Shepherds of Haven

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<<timed 3s>><<goto 'prologue1.0.0'>><</timed>>

/*<<nobr>><<set $part to 1, $chasejoin to true, $rieljoin to true, $aylajoin to true, $redjoin to true, $halekjoin to true, $brionyjoin to true, $lavinetjoin to true, $ayla to 100, $album to true, $gold to 10000, $queststart to true, $mimirjoin to true, $croellejoin to true, $lavinetcolor to "auburn", $blade to 55, $trouble to 56, $tallys to 62, $shery to 70, $riel to 40, $chase to 65, $red to 55, $ayla to 69, $briony to 69, $lavinet to 49, $mimir to 33, $halek to 10, $bladeromanceflag to 5>><</nobr>>*/The god's shattered body lies at your feet. The black ichor of his blood forms a strange oil slick around your boots. His flesh has begun to disintegrate, evaporating in little curls of acrid smoke. Mute, the dying god stares up at you without expression. <span class="gradient">"Strike him down,"</span> a voice says from behind you. Strangely, you find that you can't turn your head to look; the speaker has a surreal, metallic quality to their voice, as if their words are formed by the blaring of a dozen unearthly trumpets, all at once. There could even be multiple speakers, for all you know. You hesitate, torn between turning to confront your invisible watcher and obeying their steely command. <<nobr>> <div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Does he not deserve mercy?"</div>' 'prologue1.0.1'>><<setcompassionate +5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Does he not deserve justice?"</div>' 'prologue1.0.2'>><<setloyal -5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Does he not deserve the slowest death imaginable?"</div>' 'prologue1.0.3'>><<setcompassionate -5>><</link>> </div> <</nobr>>

There's a lashing of impatience behind you; a flare through the air like the snap of lightning and burnt ozone. <span class="gradient">"He is Tapyt Nightwalker,"</span> the voice tells you, calmly enough. <span class="gradient">"He who spawned the Endarkened, and began the Dawn Wars. There can be no mercy for one such as him."</span> <<include "prologue1.0.4">>

There's a lashing of impatience behind you; a flare through the air like the snap of lightning and burnt ozone. <span class="gradient">"You speak to //me// of justice,"</span> the voice says, calmly enough—though some bitter power behind the words leaves a strange taste on your tongue. <span class="gradient">"Tapyt Nightwalker is a creature of chaos, a primal being of disorder and evil. Justice is anathema to him. As well I know."</span> <<include "prologue1.0.4">>

There's a reverberation through the air behind you; surprise, and a little bitterness. <span class="gradient">"Perhaps,"</span> the speaker says, calmly enough. <span class="gradient">"He is the Worldruiner; the Nightwalker who cursed this world with the Endarkened. Perhaps he does deserve to suffer. But even you do not have the strength to see that fate through."</span> <<include "prologue1.0.4">>

Still, you hesitate. Something about this feels wrong. You avoid looking into the god's terrible, ruined eyes. <span class="gradient">"Is it fear that holds you back?"</span> the voice behind you asks, impatient now. "Not fear," you answer… <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I\'m never afraid." </div>' 'prologue1.0.5'>><<setcourage +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Not fear, but wisdom."</div>' 'prologue1.0.6'>><<setintelligence +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"But I wonder: if it\'s so important, why don\'t //you// do it?"</div>' 'prologue1.0.7'>><<setcunning +2>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

The voice behind you bursts forth like a storm from a bank of clouds. <span class="gradient">"Then destroy him! If you are as brave as you say."</span> <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"There must be another way..." </div>' 'anotherway'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"How can I know what will happen when I do this?" you ask. "I need time to consider the consequences." The voice behind you bursts forth like a storm from a bank of clouds. <span class="gradient">"There is no time! You must destroy him //now//!"</span> <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"There must be another way..." </div>' 'anotherway'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

The voice behind you is as bitter and biting as the winter wind. <span class="gradient">"Had I the power to do it myself, I would have long ago,"</span> it replies. <span class="gradient">"No, it must be you."</span> <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"There must be another way..." </div>' 'anotherway'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

//Way…// <span class="gradient">"There //is// no other way,"</span> the voice insists. <span class="gradient">"If you stay your hand now, Tapyt will be able to—"</span> <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"To what?" </div>' 'to'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="drunk">//Wake up…//</span><<else>>//Wake up...//<</if>> <span class="gradient">"He'll be able to—"</span> <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"What?" </div>' 'what'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Speak up!" </div>' 'what'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

But you never hear the mysterious speaker's final words. Someone else's cuts through them, shredding the sounds apart—tearing the scene before you into pale and ghostly tatters. When you finally force yourself to turn around and look behind you, there's nothing there. The dying god's body disappears. And slowly, with the horrible inevitability of a stone plummeting to earth, you find yourself hurtling back through dense and close-fitting dreams… <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>"WAKE UP!"</span></div></div>' "prologuetransition">><</link>></center>

<<if settings.music is true>><<audio "theme" volume 0.1 play>><</if>> <<fadein 10s>> <<fadeout 5s 8s>><div class="logo"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/logos/darkshohlogo.jpg" alt="Shepherds of Haven" width="100%"></div><</fadeout>> <</fadein>> <<timed 12s>><<goto "wakeup">><</timed>><span class="next">[[Next|wakeup]]</span>

<span class="splash">Prologue</span><span class="splashblur">You snap back to the waking world with a sickening jolt. For a disorientating moment you have no idea where or even //who// you are. Your body feels too heavy around you, as dense and clumsy as clay; it feels as if you're suffocating in your own flesh. The world around you is too dark to recognize. Then a familiar face shoves its way out of the shadows, glaring. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"BOY!" it screams... </div>' 'prihine'>><<set $gender to "male", $she to "he", $her to "his", $hers to "his", $them to "him", $woman to "man", $child to "son", $sibling to "brother", $girl to "boy">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"GIRL!" it screams... </div>' 'prihine'>><<set $gender to "female", $she to "she", $her to "her", $hers to "hers", $them to "her", $woman to "woman", $child to "daughter", $sibling to "sister", $girl to "girl">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"BRAT!" it screams... </div>'>><<run Dialog.setup("Select Pronouns"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("Pronouns").processText()); Dialog.open();>><</link>> </div><</nobr>></span>

<<nobr>><<set _sheher to "", _woman to "", $gender to "xixian">><</nobr>><span class="heading">Gender</span> <label><<radiobutton "$gender" "male">>  Your character identifies as male.</label> <label><<radiobutton "$gender" "female">>  Your character identifies as female.</label> <label><<radiobutton "$gender" "xixian" checked>>  Your character identifies as nonbinary. </label> <span class="heading">Pronouns</span> Select your pronouns //or// input custom ones by clicking the <i>Use Custom Pronouns</i> button at the bottom. You will be able to change your pronouns from the Profile screen at any time by clicking on the word <b>Pronouns</b>. <span class="subheading">Use Preset Pronouns</span> <<listbox "_sheher">> <<option "She/Her/Hers">> <<option "He/Him/His">> <<option "Xe/Xem/Xis">> <<option "They/Them/Theirs">> <</listbox>> <<listbox "_woman">> <<option "Woman, Sister, Daughter">> <<option "Man, Brother, Son">> <<option "Person, Sibling, Child">> <</listbox>> <center><<button 'Confirm'>><<if _sheher is "She/Her/Hers">> <<set $she to "she", $her to "her", $hers to "hers", $them to "her">> <<elseif _sheher is "He/Him/His">> <<set $she to "he", $her to "his", $hers to "his", $them to "him">> <<elseif _sheher is "Xe/Xem/Xis">> <<set $she to "xe", $hers to "xis", $her to "xer", $them to "xem">> <<elseif _sheher is "They/Them/Theirs">> <<set $plural to true, $she to "they", $hers to "theirs", $her to "their", $them to "them">> <</if>> <<if _woman is "Woman, Sister, Daughter">><<set $child to "daughter", $woman to "woman", $sibling to "sister", $girl to "girl">> <<elseif _woman is "Man, Brother, Son">><<set $child to "son", $woman to "man", $sibling to "brother", $girl to "boy">> <<elseif _woman is "Person, Sibling, Child">><<set $child to "child", $woman to "person", $sibling to "sibling", $girl to "child">> <</if>><<goto "prihine">><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>> <<button 'Use Custom Pronouns'>><<run Dialog.setup("Custom Pronouns"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("custompronouns").processText()); Dialog.open();>><</button>></center>

<span class="subheading">Use Custom Pronouns</span> <label><<radiobutton "$plural" false checked>>  Singular</label> <label><<radiobutton "$plural" true>>  Plural</label> Please use only lower-case letters when inputting your pronouns. //<b>He/she/they</b> went on a trip to the shore.// <<textbox "$she" "she">> //<b>His/her/their</b> dog is rambunctious.// <<textbox "$her" "her">> //The cat in the corner is <b>his/hers/theirs</b>.// <<textbox "$hers" "hers">> //I haven't seen <b>him/her/them</b> around lately.// <<textbox "$them" "her">> //That <b>man/woman/person</b> seems lost.// <<textbox "$woman" "woman">> //You look in the mirror and see the face of a young <b>boy/girl/child</b>.// <<textbox "$girl" "girl">> //My <b>brother/sister/sibling</b> is my best friend.// <<textbox "$sister" "sister">> //I am my parents' only <b>son/daughter/child</b>.// <<textbox "$daughter" "daughter">> <<button 'Confirm'>><<goto "prihine">><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>>

<<notify_tutorial "Pronouns">>"…I AM NOT ACCUSTOMED TO WAKING MY SERVANTS! If you don't get up //right now//, you will force me to do something drastic!" The sudden tirade brings back a sense of clarity and, dismayingly, a rush of something like comfort; you are familiar with this person, with this role. The pale, pointed face glaring at you between tent flaps is that of your employer, Lady Prihine Naveen. <<nobr>>/*<span class="entrylink">[[Prihine Naveen|Character Guide]]</span>*/<</nobr>> Or rather, that of your employer's //daughter//—the one you've been tasked with guarding for the next several weeks as you accompany her to her wedding in Haven. Although you wouldn't consider a bodyguard to be a conventional servant, Prihine certainly does; and she's made it clear that she expects you to draw her a hot bath every morning, at dawn. A glance at the rough, bluing canvas walls of your tent tells you that dawn is already at hand. Prihine, seeing your glance, shrieks, "Layabout! Dolt! Am I paying you to laze around and daydream like a simpleton?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You\'re not <i>paying</i> me at all. It\'\s your father I signed the contract with." </div>' 'prihinesnap1'>><<setloyal -3>><<setcourage +2>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Of course not, Lady Prihine. My apologies." </div>' 'prihinesnap2'>><<setloyal +3>><<setcharisma +2>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Say nothing. Anything you say will only provoke her further. </div>' 'prihinesnap3'>><<setintelligence +2>><<setcunning +3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Prihine glares. "The contract that clearly states you are to look after my wellbeing," she bites back. "I cannot be //well// if I am not clean. Fetch me my bathwater." <<include "prihineexitappearance">>

Prihine glares. "I can do nothing with your apologies, nor do I want them," she retorts. "Can an apology bathe me? Can it feed me? No? Then I should think you need to be concerned with things that can. You are responsible for my wellbeing!" <<include "prihineexitappearance">>

Prihine glares. "Say nothing, then," she fumes. "You do not need to speak to fetch my bathwater." <<include "prihineexitappearance">>

With that, her head abruptly withdraws from your tent. In a moment you hear her flouncing away towards her own more sumptuous sealskin tupik, leaving you to sit in groggy silence. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "scarsortattoos">><</link>></center>

<<set $appearancedif to "">>You manage to emerge from your tent just as the rest of the camp begins to stir. Although she considers it beneath her, you and Prihine have decided to travel with a caravan of roaming merchants, the Kinley Traders: a group that frequently makes the trip between Brunen, Prihine's hometown, and Haven, the capital city of the Continent and the seat of the Autarchy. Prihine's father is well-connected among the Norm merchants in the caravan, and has ordered you to tag along after them in their train of wagons. In addition to you, the Traders are well-protected by their own mercenary guards, but their concerns are more… demon-orientated than the bandits Prihine thinks are waiting to kidnap and ransom her. You meet the eyes of a few of these 'van guards as you make your way to the little brook outside of camp. Some look away when you catch their gaze; others give you a few grimaces and nods of sympathy. Most are intimidated by aspects of your appearance. You have the glowing eyes of a Mage, a Diminished person, after all. <<nobr>><<cycle "$appearancedif" autoselect>> <<option "That alone is enough to make others give you a very wide berth." "">> <<option "Plus, only battle-hardened warriors sport scars like yours. It's enough to make these soft merchant types uneasy and skittish around you—like frightened rabbits trying to pretend a predator isn't in their midst." "scars">> <<option "Not only that, but tattoos have something of a bad reputation in these parts: you catch quite a lot of people trying not to stare at the ink on your skin." "tattoos">> <<option "They even stare at the many sharp, glittering rings lining your fingers: not only there for decoration, but in a pinch, they make an unarmed punch a mean and cutting blow. People probably sense that about you: that wariness and flash, that preparedness for a sudden fight." "rings">> <<option "You even catch them staring at the many piercings studding your ears. Piercings aren't common on the Continent, and are usually associated with pirates, corsairs, and criminals. That's probably why these merchants give you such a wide berth." "piercings">> <</cycle>><</nobr>> But you can only shrug to yourself. You've gotten used to being alone. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "appearancetest">><</link>></center>

<<if $appearancedif != "">><<run Dialog.setup("Cosmetic Features"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("Features").processText()); Dialog.open();>><</if>> The camp, which consists of about a dozen wagons and three dozen merchants, begins to fill with the sounds of clanking pots and crackling wood; your nose catches the scents of campfire smoke, reheating porridge, and the woody-smelling bags of oats that are given to the horses. The Kinley Traders break their fast well and early, hoping to get their traveling done in as much daylight as possible. It's only Prihine who takes her time getting ready in the mornings: she often sniffs that beauty is a bride's only commodity, and something far more valuable than any merchant's fruits or silks. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "meetcaine">><</link>></center>

<center><b>Select desired aspects of your appearance.</b></center> <<if $appearancedif is "scars">><<checkbox "$scars" false true checked>>  Scars <<else>> <<checkbox "$scars" false true>>  Scars<</if>> <<if $appearancedif is "tattoos">><<checkbox "$tattoos" false true checked>>  Tattoos <<else>> <<checkbox "$tattoos" false true>>  Tattoos<</if>> <<if $appearancedif is "rings">><<checkbox "$rings" false true checked>>  Rings<<else>><<checkbox "$rings" false true>>  Rings<</if>> <<if $appearancedif is "piercings">><<checkbox "$piercings" false true checked>>  Ear Piercings<<else>><<checkbox "$piercings" false true>>  Ear Piercings<</if>> <center><<button 'Confirm'>><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>></center>

The sounds of camp slowly recede as you make your way to the foaming brook where you'll collect Prihine's bathwater. The only other person kneeling at the water's edge is Caine, one of the merchants' apprentices: twelve and precocious, you've noticed him staring at you openly before, but you've never actually spoken. His look brightens when he sees you bending down across from him. You notice that he's washing his hands in the river—cleansing them of blood. Caine notices you staring and holds his dripping hands up with a grin. "A chicken," he says. "Killed him a few minutes ago. For the One-God." Ah. Although you haven't actually witnessed it, the Norms in the group perform an animal sacrifice at dawn everyday, dedicating their kill to their patron One-God. They believe that the sacrifice will please Xer, and that it ensures Xe will continue to safeguard the group from coming across an Endarkened creature. Such sacrifices have never been commonplace until recently, you think; but then again, neither have demonic attacks.<<set $cainemeet to true>> <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Isn\'t it upsetting to slaughter an animal every day?" </div>' 'caineschicken1'>><<setcompassionate +2>><<setcharisma +2>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Do you really think the One-God will defend your lives from Endarkened in exchange for one chicken?" </div>' 'caineschicken2'>><<setcourage +2>><<setfaith -2>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"What do you do with the chicken after you kill it?" </div>' 'caineschicken3'>><<setintelligence +2>><<setcunning +2>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Caine shrugs. "Naw. Gotta do it for dinner, lots of nights. This isn't any different, except I don't get to eat it afterwards." <<include "chickenend">>

Caine shrugs. "Dunno. It's what the Church says, so everyone's doing it. Haven't seen a demon so far." <<include "chickenend">>

Caine blinks. "We bury it, so's the wolves can't get at it." <<include "chickenend">>

<<notify_tutorial "Dialogue Tags">>"Interesting," is all you say as you begin to fill your bucket with water. It will take several trips to fill Prihine's little tin bathtub; several more to heat it all over a meager campfire. Caine watches you perform this mundane task with interest before blurting, "Why can't you just use magic to do that?" You just look at him. Caine's face reddens, but he plows on: "I mean—I know it's illegal, of course. But no one's watching, 'cept me. And I won't tell. And none of the Autarch's Inquisitors would make it all the way out here. And it seems like it'd be way easier, instead of hauling it up bucket by bucket." <<include "caineconvo1">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("toogreatarisk")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"It\'\s too great a risk."</div>' 'toogreatarisk'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("howmage")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"How did you know I\'\m a Mage?"</div>' 'howmage'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I can\'t show you any magic, but I can show you this." Show him your weapon.</div>' 'weaponchoice'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Magic and other non-Norm gifts have been outlawed by the Autarchy for the past two hundred years, ever since the Castigation. Anyone caught using it without government permission is executed on sight—a fate you're not too keen on meeting, especially not for the sake of Prihine's morning bath. And even though you're fairly certain there are no Inquisitors in the Kinley Traders… you can never be sure who's still willing to report you to the Autarch's death-squads in exchange for a reward. As they say: "The eyes of the Sun Court shine everywhere." Best not to take that chance. Caine's little face turns gloomy when you tell him this. "I suppose so," he admits. "But I just think it's a shame—" Then he looks around and bites his lip, cutting himself off. <<include "caineconvo1">>

"Ebert said it," Caine blurts. "And some of the others—and the Lady, too. Plus you've got the—" He gestures vigorously at his eyes. You shake your head. Caine's talking about the <i>iladrin</i>, the Mage-glow—a certain light in your eyes that marks you out as a magic-user. Centuries ago it was considered a great boon, a gift from the gods themselves. But now, here in the Norm-led Autarchy, it's more like a curse—a bullseye emblazoned on your face. "What have the others said, about me being a Mage?" you ask, trying to keep your voice steady. But Caine just looks down and shakes his head. "Sorry." What exactly is he sorry about? <<include "caineconvo1">>

You tell yourself that the boy is simply curious, that he'll be easily distracted by some flashy trick or another. <<nobr>><<cycle "$mainweapon" autoselect>> <<option '"I\'m handy with a sword," you offer, showing him the grey iron sword hanging at your side.' "sword">> <<option '"I\'m handy with a gun," you offer, showing him the Norm-wrought pistol at your hip.' "gun">> <<option '"I\'m handy with a bow and arrow," you offer, showing him the battered bow and quiver slung across your back.' "bow">> <<option '"I\'m handy with a dagger," you offer, showing him the simple sharpened dagger on your belt.' "dagger">> <</cycle>><</nobr>> But Caine is uninterested in this earthly weaponry; it's clear he only wants to know about one thing. He blurts out, "Have you <i>ever</i> done any magic?" The question gives you pause. In fact, you <i>have</i> performed magic throughout your life, though you've kept that secret on pain of death. Magic in the Autarchy is strictly outlawed and regularly snuffed out by Inquisitors, but people like you—<i>Mages</i> like you—have persevered in keeping the gift alive regardless, either through rigorous and furtive self-teaching, apprenticeship to secret mentors, or training in clandestine circles. Despite yourself, your mind flashes back to your <<linkappend "past..." t8n>> <center><span class="heading">Select your education:</span></center> <div class="cardcontainer"> <div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/selftaught1.png" alt="Self-Taught" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link 'Self-Taught'>><<script>> Dialog.setup("Self-Taught"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("Self-Taught").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">Self-Taught</span></center></div> <div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/journey2.png" alt="Journeyman" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link 'Journeyman'>><<script>> Dialog.setup("Journeyman"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("Journeyman").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">Journeyman</span></center></div> <div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/circle2.png" alt="Circle-Trained" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link 'Circle-Trained'>><<script>> Dialog.setup("Circle-Trained"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("Circle-Trained").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">Circle-Trained</span></center></div></div><</linkappend>>

<center><b>You taught yourself magic through stolen books.</b></center> You were never allowed a formal education. Instead, you were forced to steal, lie, and sneak off with whatever illegal spellbooks you could scrounge up or palm from piles meant for burning, always living in fear of being discovered and accused of practicing dark arts. You had to puzzle out the intricacies of spellweaving and the arcane on your own; however, your patchwork education and a few trials by fire have forged you into an innovative, creative, and quick-thinking Mage who comes up with solutions on the fly and thinks outside of the box. Living life on the edge and in constant defiance of the Autarchy has given you sharper instincts, a razor sense of self-preservation, and an ability to cover your tracks more than most. <center><<button 'Confirm'>><<set $education to "Self-taught">><<setloyal -6>><<setmagic +7>><<setcunning +7>><<goto "educationnext">><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>> <<button 'Return'>><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>></center>

<center><b>You were apprenticed to the traveling scholar, Belnus Farplane.</b></center> There was a wandering Mage, Belnus Farplane, who often passed near your childhood home. Although his own magical power was weak, only fit for curing cuts and lighting candles, he claimed to be the descendant of a long line of famous researchers and Archmages, possessing an intimate knowledge of the old spellbooks and arcane scrolls that have since been lost to the Autarchy's war on magic. This heritage, combined with his worldly experiences and wisdoms from his many travels, made him a formidable scholar and master of his craft. After an accident led to your fortuitous rescue of the old man, you managed to convince him to tutor you in exchange for sheltering him in your home. It was not an easy apprenticeship: Belnus was eccentric, cantankerous, demanding, and exacting, often forcing you to write long and esoteric essays on dead subjects and engaging you in spirited, hours-long debates just for the sake of arguing. However, you came to love him as a kind of bizarre, owlish uncle. After a few years, the old man passed on—but his vast and invaluable knowledge of magic lives on in you. Through Belnus's detailed lessons, you became a more articulate, well-read, and informed Mage than most. You are able to persuade, communicate, and illuminate others in lucid and cogent ways. <center><<button 'Confirm'>><<set $education to "Journeyman">><<setcharisma +7>><<setmagic +6>><<setintelligence +7>><<goto "educationnext">><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>> <<button 'Return'>><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>></center>

<center><b>You were trained in an underground school for Mages: the Veiled Circle of Capra.</b></center> Although the great Mage colleges like Solhadur were dismantled by the Autarchy during the Castigation, there are still some clandestine academic societies dedicated to preserving magic throughout Blest today. These "circles" are groups of Mages who gather in secret to live, learn, and train together in the arcane arts, pooling their resources together to keep some semblance of the old Mage schools alive. Mage Circles are hunted by the Autarchy and its Inquisitors in earnest, so your years in the Veiled Circle outside the city of Capra were spent in great risk. However, it was there that you were able to study spellcraft and the mysteries of the universe with the best tools and methodology left on the Continent. You also found a community—teachers, peers, classmates, and friends—at the Circle before you graduated and decided to go your own way. Your experiences there have crafted you into a powerful and confident Mage who has experience working in groups and teams, as well as scalpel-like precision and well-practiced control over your powers. <center><<button 'Confirm'>><<set $education to "Circle-trained">><<setcourage +3>><<setmagic +10>><<setintelligence +5>><<setloyal +2>><<goto "educationnext">><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>> <<button 'Return'>><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>></center>

<<nobr>><<silently>><<set $empty to false>><<if $mainweapon is "sword">><<set $basicsword to true, $possess_sword to true, $sword += 5>><<elseif $mainweapon is "gun">><<set $basicgun to true, $possess_gun to true, $gun += 5>><<elseif $mainweapon is "bow">><<set $basicbow to true, $possess_bow to true, $bow += 5>><<else>><<set $basicdagger to true, $possess_dagger to true, $dagger += 5>><</if>><</silently>><</nobr>>…Of course, you can't tell Caine any of this. So you just say: <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"None of your business, kid." </div>' 'whatev'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Of course I haven\'t used magic. I\'m a loyal citizen of the Autarchy." </div>' 'whatev'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Caine's face crumples. "Oh," he says. "Right." Suddenly, an earsplitting shriek pierces the peaceful glen, with its bubbling brook and the morning air drowsy and golden with pollen. Caine visibly jumps; he looks around, pale-faced, as if expecting a demon to come barreling out of the trees behind you. You roll your eyes and get to your feet. "It's just Her Eminence," you tell the boy, who relaxes. "Wanting to know why I'm taking so long." "Oh," Caine says. Then he gives you a pitying look—a galling expression to receive from someone so young. "How'd you end up serving the likes of her, anyway?" You think bleakly of your dream from last night, rapidly fading in the growing summer sunlight; that feeling of not knowing who you were or what you were supposed to do. A feeling that you've carried with you all your life—that all Diminished have been burdened with, most likely. If it were three centuries ago, it might have been Prihine serving <i>you</i>. "That," you tell Caine firmly, "is a long story. One for another time." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "firstname">><</link>></center>

As the two of you begin to walk back to camp, the boy suddenly asks: "What's your name, anyway?" Prihine has only ever referred to you as "idiot" or "scoundrel"—some of the other merchants have deigned to address you as "Mage." It's been a while since anyone's addressed you by your first name…<<nobr>><<include "givenname">><</nobr>>

<span class="fancylist"><span class="nohighlight"> * <<link "View suggestions for gender-neutral names.">><<toggleclass "#neutralnames" "hide">><</link>><div id="neutralnames" class="hide"><span class="nohighlightlist">&emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[Cecile|surname][$firstname to "Cecile"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[Rui|surname][$firstname to "Rui"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[Kit|surname][$firstname to "Kit"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[Synan|surname][$firstname to "Synan"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[Vahe|surname][$firstname to "Vahe"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[Syndrael|surname][$firstname to "Syndrael"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[Jun|surname][$firstname to "Jun"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[Calix|surname][$firstname to "Calix"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[Aeron|surname][$firstname to "Aeron"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[Therin|surname][$firstname to "Therin"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[Tamar|surname][$firstname to "Tamar"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[Ocie|surname][$firstname to "Ocie"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[Nokomis|surname][$firstname to "Nokomis"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[Emrys|surname][$firstname to "Emrys"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[Quinlan|surname][$firstname to "Quinlan"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[Pallas|surname][$firstname to "Pallas"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[Sevine|surname][$firstname to "Sevine"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[Keahi|surname][$firstname to "Keahi"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[Rhys|surname][$firstname to "Rhys"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[Robyn|surname][$firstname to "Robyn"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[Senneth|surname][$firstname to "Senneth"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[Ember|surname][$firstname to "Ember"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[Storm|surname][$firstname to "Storm"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[Pyre|surname][$firstname to "Pyre"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[Honor|surname][$firstname to "Honor"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[Triumph|surname][$firstname to "Triumph"]] </span></div> * <<link "View suggestions for feminine names.">><<toggleclass "#femininenames" "hide">><</link>><div id="femininenames" class="hide"><span class="nohighlightlist">&emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[Arainia|surname][$firstname to "Arainia"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[Hyperia|surname][$firstname to "Hyperia"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[Anthea|surname][$firstname to "Anthea"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[Rhiannon|surname][$firstname to "Rhiannon"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[Arianrhod|surname][$firstname to "Arianrhod"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[Eulalie|surname][$firstname to "Eulalie"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[Hyacinthe|surname][$firstname to "Hyacinthe"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[Daphnel|surname][$firstname to "Daphnel"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[Amaline|surname][$firstname to "Amaline"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[Halle|surname][$firstname to "Halle"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[Aeryn|surname][$firstname to "Aeryn"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[Ellery|surname][$firstname to "Ellery"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[Kitty|surname][$firstname to "Kitty"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[Thora|surname][$firstname to "Thora"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[Ytha|surname][$firstname to "Ytha"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[Vala|surname][$firstname to "Vala"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[Thirrin|surname][$firstname to "Thirrin"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[Angharad|surname][$firstname to "Angharad"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[Solana|surname][$firstname to "Solana"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[Ilune|surname][$firstname to "Ilune"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[Calenthe|surname][$firstname to "Calenthe"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[Galatea|surname][$firstname to "Galatea"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[Koryth|surname][$firstname to "Koryth"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[Ixphora|surname][$firstname to "Ixphora"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[Clariel|surname][$firstname to "Clariel"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[Lirael|surname][$firstname to "Lirael"]] </span></div> * <<link "View suggestions for masculine names.">><<toggleclass "#masculinenames" "hide">><</link>><div id="masculinenames" class="hide"><span class="nohighlightlist">&emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[Kellen|surname][$firstname to "Kellen"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[Asodel|surname][$firstname to "Asodel"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[Talwyn|surname][$firstname to "Talwyn"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[Samphire|surname][$firstname to "Samphire"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[Vansen|surname][$firstname to "Vansen"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[Caspen|surname][$firstname to "Caspen"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[Locke|surname][$firstname to "Locke"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[Acheron|surname][$firstname to "Acheron"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[Caddaric|surname][$firstname to "Caddaric"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[Nichothades|surname][$firstname to "Nichothades"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[Ximun|surname][$firstname to "Ximun"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[Savon|surname][$firstname to "Savon"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[Rhun|surname][$firstname to "Rhun"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[Tor|surname][$firstname to "Tor"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[Isach|surname][$firstname to "Isach"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[Takshin|surname][$firstname to "Takshin"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[Dynerek|surname][$firstname to "Dynerek"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[Spiritus|surname][$firstname to "Spiritus"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[Seren|surname][$firstname to "Seren"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[Zakkar|surname][$firstname to "Zakkar"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[Ifrat|surname][$firstname to "Ifrat"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[Endeleon|surname][$firstname to "Endeleon"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[Valentin|surname][$firstname to "Valentin"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[Zephirin|surname][$firstname to "Zephirin"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[Celestin|surname][$firstname to "Celestin"]] </span></div> * <<link "Input custom name.">><<script>> Dialog.setup("Given Name"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("Given Name").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>><</link>> </span></span>

Input your first name. <<if $gender is "male">><<textbox "$firstname" "Samphire">><<elseif $gender is "female">><<textbox "$firstname" "Arainia">><<elseif $gender is "xixian">><<textbox "$firstname" "Cecile">><</if>> <center><<button "Confirm">><<set $firstname to $firstname.toUpperFirst()>><<if $firstname is "">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Please enter a first name.<</replace>> <<elseif $firstname is "Blade" or $firstname is "blade">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that name is unavailable.<</replace>> <<elseif $firstname is "Trouble" or $firstname is "trouble">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that name is unavailable.<</replace>> <<elseif $firstname is "Tallys" or $firstname is "tallys">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that name is unavailable.<</replace>> <<elseif $firstname is "Shery" or $firstname is "shery">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that name is unavailable.<</replace>> <<elseif $firstname is "Riel" or $firstname is "Riel">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that name is unavailable.<</replace>> <<elseif $firstname is "Chase" or $firstname is "chase">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that name is unavailable.<</replace>> <<elseif $firstname is "Red" or $firstname is "red">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that name is unavailable.<</replace>> <<elseif $firstname is "Ayla" or $firstname is "ayla">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that name is unavailable.<</replace>> <<elseif $firstname is "Halek" or $firstname is "halek">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that name is unavailable.<</replace>> <<elseif $firstname is "Briony" or $firstname is "briony">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that name is unavailable.<</replace>> <<elseif $firstname is "Lavinet" or $firstname is "lavinet">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that name is unavailable.<</replace>> <<elseif $firstname is "Prihine" or $firstname is "prihine">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that name is unavailable.<</replace>> <<elseif $firstname is "Caine" or $firstname is "caine">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that name is unavailable.<</replace>> <<elseif $firstname is "Mimir" or $firstname is "mimir">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that name is unavailable.<</replace>> <<elseif $firstname is "Croelle" or $firstname is "croelle">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that name is unavailable.<</replace>> <<elseif $firstname is "Autarch" or $firstname is "autarch">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that name is unavailable.<</replace>> <<elseif $firstname is "Naolin" or $firstname is "naolin">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that name is unavailable.<</replace>> <<elseif $firstname is "Moonsilk" or $firstname is "moonsilk">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that name is unavailable.<</replace>> <<elseif $firstname is "Gladius" or $firstname is "gladius">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that name is unavailable.<</replace>> <<elseif $firstname is "Ornos" or $firstname is "ornos">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that name is unavailable.<</replace>> <<elseif $firstname is "Enik" or $firstname is "enik">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that name is unavailable.<</replace>> <<elseif $firstname is "Ebert" or $firstname is "ebert">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that name is unavailable.<</replace>> <<elseif $firstname is "Chandry" or $firstname is "chandry">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that name is unavailable.<</replace>> <<elseif $firstname is "Justyn" or $firstname is "justyn">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that name is unavailable.<</replace>> <<elseif $firstname is "Cybele" or $firstname is "cybele">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that name is unavailable.<</replace>> <<elseif $firstname is "Ysa" or $firstname is "ysa">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that name is unavailable.<</replace>> <<elseif $firstname is "Daren" or $firstname is "daren">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that name is unavailable.<</replace>> <<elseif $firstname is "Saya" or $firstname is "saya">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that name is unavailable.<</replace>> <<elseif $firstname is "Pan" or $firstname is "pan">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that name is unavailable.<</replace>> <<elseif $firstname is "Neon" or $firstname is "neon">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that name is unavailable.<</replace>> <<elseif $firstname is "Kato" or $firstname is "kato">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that name is unavailable.<</replace>> <<else>> <<replace "#textbox-error">><</replace>> <<goto "surname">> <<run Dialog.close()>> <</if>><</button>><br><span id="textbox-error"></span></center>

<<if $correctname is false>>...Or even by your last name...<<else>>"Uh-huh," he says. "And your last name?"<</if>><span class="fancylist"><span class="nohighlight"> * [[Niriviel|namedone][$surname to "Niriviel"]] * [[Ravenwood|namedone][$surname to "Ravenwood"]] * [[Valendil|namedone][$surname to "Valendil"]] * [[Talward|namedone][$surname to "Talward"]] * [[Emroth|namedone][$surname to "Emroth"]] * [[Hatche|namedone][$surname to "Hatche"]] * [[Kinpol|namedone][$surname to "Kinpol"]] * [[Ittai|namedone][$surname to "Ittai"]] * [[Ichanepol|namedone][$surname to "Ichanepol"]] * [[Wildegarde|namedone][$surname to "Wildegarde"]] * [[Harte|namedone][$surname to "Harte"]] * [[Watermore|namedone][$surname to "Watermore"]] * [[Charon|namedone][$surname to "Charon"]] * [[Draper|namedone][$surname to "Draper"]] * [[Ryder|namedone][$surname to "Ryder"]] * [[Vespertine|namedone][$surname to "Vespertine"]] * [[Keene|namedone][$surname to "Keene"]] * [[Anlon|namedone][$surname to "Anlon"]] * [[Summertide|namedone][$surname to "Summertide"]] * [[Cindersong|namedone][$surname to "Cindersong"]] * [[Mikali|namedone][$surname to "Mikali"]] * [[Komori|namedone][$surname to "Komori"]] * [[Narain|namedone][$surname to "Narain"]] * [[Quartine|namedone][$surname to "Quartine"]] * [[Vintmorecy|namedone][$surname to "Vintmorecy"]] * [[Danalustrous|namedone][$surname to "Danalustrous"]] * [[Wyanet|namedone][$surname to "Wyanet"]] * <<link "Input custom surname.">><<script>> Dialog.setup("Last Name"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("customsurname").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>><</link>> </span></span>

Input your surname. <<if $gender is "female">><<textbox "$surname" "Niriviel">><<elseif $gender is "male">><<textbox "$surname" "Hatche">><<else>><<textbox "$surname" "Keene">><</if>> <center><<button "Confirm">><<set $surname to $surname.toUpperFirst()>><<if $surname is "">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Please enter a last name.<</replace>> <<elseif $surname is "Bronwyn" or $surname is "bronwyn">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that surname is unavailable.<</replace>> <<elseif $surname is "Alder" or $surname is "alder">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that surname is unavailable.<</replace>> <<elseif $surname is "Ironwood" or $surname is "ironwood">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that surname is unavailable.<</replace>> <<elseif $surname is "Acquell" or $surname is "acquell">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that surname is unavailable.<</replace>> <<elseif $surname is "Syndran" or $firstname is "syndran">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that surname is unavailable.<</replace>> <<elseif $surname is "Trinaeste" or $surname is "trinaeste">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that surname is unavailable.<</replace>> <<elseif $surname is "Antiqua" or $surname is "antiqua">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that surname is unavailable.<</replace>> <<elseif $surname is "Aescar" or $surname is "aescar">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that name is unavailable.<</replace>> <<elseif $surname is "Prince" or $surname is "prince">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that name is unavailable.<</replace>> <<elseif $surname is "Stormbreaker" or $surname is "stormbreaker">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that name is unavailable.<</replace>> <<elseif $surname is "Naveen" or $surname is "naveen">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that name is unavailable.<</replace>> <<elseif $surname is "Tavadon" or $surname is "tavadon">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that name is unavailable.<</replace>> <<elseif $surname is "Esthin" or $surname is "esthin">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that name is unavailable.<</replace>> <<else>> <<replace "#textbox-error">><</replace>> <<goto "namedone">> <<run Dialog.close()>> <</if>><</button>><br><span id="textbox-error"></span></center>

You tell the boy your full name. "$firstname $surname?" Caine repeats. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Yes, that\'s right." </div>' 'thejourneybegins1'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"No, you misheard me..." </div>' 'correctname'>><<set $correctname is true>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"Oh, sorry," he says sheepishly. "What'd you say your first name was, again?" <<include "givenname">>

Caine beams at you, as bright and cheery as anything. "Glad to meet you, $firstname," he chirps, with the earnest sincerity only a twelve-year-old can possess. It's the first time anyone's said those words to you in a while. <<nobr>><<cycle "_nothingtemp" autoselect>> <<option "You try not to let him see your smile." false>> <<option "You try not to let the thought depress you." false>> <</cycle>><</nobr>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "thejourneybegins">><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<if settings.notifications>><<notify 5s>><span class="fas fa-book-open"></span> Character Guide Updated! <br><br> <span class="desc">Caine Tavadon</span><</notify>><</if>><<notify_codex_bestiary "Ahfuri">><</nobr>>A week passes by. Your caravan leaves the western territories of Kinley and Brunen behind, the grey ashlands receding, turning into the scruffy grassland of the Damba Plains. During the day, Prihine (thankfully) elects to ride in her bedecked carriage, fanning herself on a pile of cushions. She only lifts the curtain hiding her face from the commonfolk to tell you to pass her some water, or a snack, or to instruct the rest of the 'van to stop so that she may relieve herself. Normally the thought of an aristocratic lady squatting in the bushes would strike you as funny—but as you are the one receiving the brunt of the others' glares, you try to keep your expression neutral and professional. Every now and then you spot a hare bounding through the tall, golden grass, or the shadows of an <span class="entrylink"><span class="entrylink-tooltip">A fast, cat-like steed a little larger than a horse.</span><<link "ahfuri" "Glossary">><</link>></span> and its rider leaping across the plain. Once you pass the Shield Peaks, you'll be in the valley of the Sun's Embrace—a huge expanse of land with a plateau at its center. In your mind's eye you can already see what sits on top of that plateau: the legendary white towers of Haven, arrayed like a crown, the tiered city that represents the pinnacle of Blest… "It really ain't that nice," Caine informs you matter-of-factly. He's taken to following you around lately, whenever he doesn't have other chores to do for the caravan. He's already been to Haven many times. "It's kind of dirty. And smelly, 'least in the lower districts—because of all the factories. Conte-by-the-sea is way nicer." "It's not sightseeing I'm going to Haven for," you tell him, nudging your stout mare back into place in the train. Caine's eyebrows lift. "What're you going for, then?" Prihine's father hired you out of Brunen for this bodyguarding job, and this job alone. Once you see her safely wedded to some Consortium politician in Haven, you'll be free to do whatever you want. But what is it that you want? Why do you want to go to the Continent's capital, the very seat of power for the Autarchy? <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Haven is the largest city on the Continent with a high Diminished population. I want to be able to blend in again, without being stared at and pointed out as a Mage. To have a community. </div>' 'cainequiet'>><<setloyal +3>><<setcompassionate +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Haven must hold the secrets to understanding the Endarkened problem, and why demons are invading our world once again. I want to conduct my research there and try to solve this current crisis.</div>' 'cainequiet'>><<setintelligence +4>><<setcompassionate +2>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Haven is the capital of the Autarchy, and the world\'s greatest stronghold against the demons. I want to find safety there, and protection.</div>' 'cainequiet'>><<setcunning +3>><<setloyal +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">The seat of the government sits in Haven. I want to study my enemy—those who serve the Autarchy and oppress my people—and learn how to evade it.</div>' 'cainequiet'>><<setcunning +4>><<setloyal -2>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Even if I can\'t legally use my magic, a city like Haven is sure to have a wealth of resources and opportunities for an enterprising soul like myself.</div>' 'cainequiet'>><<setcharisma +4>><<setcunning +2>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Caine is quiet for a while, absorbing this. "Ebert says that the Autarch is sick," he says finally. "That she's not powerful enough to drive back the Endarkened in her state, and that's why they're coming back. And that no one knows who her heir is going to be, because she has two sons, and one's a bastard, and that everyone in Haven is afraid." He looks at you, and you note that his eyes are shining with the kind of excitement and admiration fit for a great hero. "Maybe you can do something about that." You don't have the heart to tell him that the Autarch already has many great Mages in her employ—some of the only ones sanctioned to freely use magic in the entire Continent. If <i>they</i> haven't been able to solve her problems, you doubt that they'd give a Diminished bodyguard a shot. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cainesquestions">><</link>></center>

Another time, while your caravan train is rumbling over the low hills, Caine asks you about the Castigation. "I mean, what <i>was</i> it, anyway?" he asks. "They talk about it in Church, but no one ever says what really happened." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You try to avoid saying much: he\'s too young to know about these things. </div>' 'avoidtellingcaine'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You talk to him about it in great detail, as if he were an adult; you commend the boy\'s desire to learn.</div>' 'tellcaine1'>><<setintelligence +1>><<setcourage +1>><<setcunning -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You tell him what he wants to know, but simplify it in terms that are easy to understand.</div>' 'tellcaine2'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

The Castigation was a cataclysmic war that took place two hundred years ago, a bloody conflict between the Norms' expansive army and the splintered array of the Gifted races: mainly the Elves, the Mages, the Ket, and the Hunters. Following their disastrous defeat, the Gifted—those who'd once wielded supernatural or superhuman powers—became the Diminished; the Norms established their hegemonic government, the Autarchy; and all manner of magic and gift was outlawed from Blest. You don't think Caine is really old enough to process these dark historical events: it would probably distress him to think about the Diminished races' previous position of power, their great fall—and their current position as second-class citizens in the new Autarchy. Though, of course, he must have seen evidence of this state of affairs all across the Continent. You just say lightly, "It would be best to ask your master about that." Caine glowers. "He just tells me to stop chattering. He stinks. And no one ever tells me anything." "Maybe there's a good reason for it." "What good reason is there for <i>ignorance</i>?" he asks, sounding startlingly adult as he says it. He turns in his saddle to look at you. "Can you tell me one thing, at least? Is it true that there used to be—um—another Church, or whatever? One that believed in lots of gods, not just the one?" Suddenly you notice that some of the other merchants riding nearby have gone very still. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Be quiet now, Caine."</div>' 'bequietcaine1'>><<setcunning +1>><<setcompassionate -2>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Yes. It was called the Old Faith, and the Diminished were slaughtered for it."</div>' 'bequietcaine2'>><<setcourage +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<set $avoidtellingcaine to true>>Caine looks like he's about to ask why, but he catches sight of your expression and wisely clamps his mouth shut. For the rest of the day the two of you ride on in silence, and you spend the time hoping word of this conversation won't get back to anyone of importance… <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "caine1">><</link>></center>

Caine goes pale. "That was the Castigation?" You nod, keeping your voice even and your gaze steady when another trader turns to look at you. "You'll learn more when you're older," you tell him, and Caine falls quiet at that. The two of you ride on in silence, and for the rest of that time you feel the glare of the other traders resting heavy between your shoulder blades like a knife. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "caine1">><</link>></center>

"The Castigation was a great war that took place two hundred years ago," you tell him. "Between the Diminished—though at the time they were called the Gifted—and the Norms." His brow furrows. "Why did they go to war?" "There are many different reasons. The first and foremost being the Old Faith." He looks around, a little uneasily, as if he knows that the words are forbidden but is unsure why. Still, when his eyes return to you, they look fever-bright with interest. "Old Faith?" You nod. "At one point, the majority of people in Blest believed in the old gods—a Summit of many different deities and beings. They believed this Summit created all of the Children of Light: the Elves, the Mages, the Ket, the Hunters, the Norms, and everyone else." Caine nods, digesting this new information. "Like the One-God." "Right. Except in the teachings of the Old Faith, it was believed that some of the Children of Light were blessed by the gods more than others, whereas the One-God is said to have created everyone equally. Why else were the Elves born with such long lives? Why were the Ket given their arma, the Mages their magic, the Hunters their ability to slay demons?" "The Norms were left out," Caine says, realizing. "Not given powers and the like." "Right. And so for a long time the Norms were mistreated badly—looked down upon by the other races as last-born, or cursed, or forgotten by the gods. Eventually their resentment for this treatment boiled over, and erupted into what became known as the Castigation." Caine shakes his head. "But how did they—I mean, we—win? Against magic and all that?" "You had guns," you tell him bluntly. "And mass production, and large-scale agriculture. Some say that the gods' gift to the Norms was inventiveness, the ability to adapt. They had to be able to compete with the other races, and they did so with technology. They also had the numbers: you know Norm families can have four, five, six children to an Elf family's one, and an Elf child takes decades to reach maturity, whereas Norm sons and daughters can grow up into soldiers like that." He starts at the emphatic snap of your fingers. You sigh. "Anyway, after the Gifted lost the war—the Castigation—they became the Diminished. And the Norms established the Autarchy and outlawed all manner of magic and gift. It's why you won't see me filling Prihine's bath any way other than the normal one." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cainereligion">><</link>></center>

Caine is silent for a long time—so long that you wonder if you've overloaded his mind with information. He's a merchant's apprentice, so he knows how to read and write—and yet he knows so little about the world and its history. You wonder briefly if it's a result of his Norm upbringing, or if it's the efforts of the Autarchy to erase the past. "So the Norms got mistreated before," he says finally, slowly. "But then the Castigation happened—and now we're on top, and get to treat the Diminished like kak?" You look around quickly and hush him. "You can draw your own conclusions," you say, "but anything beyond fact is not my domain. I can only tell you what happened." Caine nods, looking unhappy. Then he says, "Do you believe in the One-God, or the Old Faith?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Neither." And you mean it. There is no such thing as a god, either one or many.</div>' 'caine2'>><<setfaith -30>><<set $belief to "atheist", $god to "Hael">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Neither, really." But you\'re not entirely sure. You haven\'t seen proof of either religion, but there\'s room for you to be proved wrong.</div>' 'caine2'>><<setfaith -15>><<set $belief to "agnostic", $god to "pitfire">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item"><b>[LIE]</b> "I believe in the One-God," you say, though you only say it because you don\'t want to get into trouble.</div>' 'truefaith'>><<setcunning +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I believe in the One-God," you say, and you mean it. Why wouldn\'t you believe in a creator who\'s fair and just, and who created all mankind equally?</div>' 'caine2'>><<setfaith +15>><<setloyal +5>><<set $belief to "one-god", $god to "God">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I believe in the Old Faith," you say, even though it is a terrible risk to do so. The Old Faith is considered heresy as much as magic is considered a crime—but you can\'t deny there is something real and compelling about the old gods\' myths and legends.</div>' 'caine2'>><<setfaith +15>><<setcourage +5>><<setcunning -3>><<setloyal -5>><<set $belief to "oldfaith", $god to "gods">><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

What do you actually believe in? <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">I don\'t believe in any god.</div>' 'caine2'>><<setfaith -10>><<set $belief to "atheist", $god to "Hael">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">I\'m not entirely sure.</div>' 'caine2'>><<set $belief to "agnostic", $god to "pitfire">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">I believe in the Old Faith, but I can\'t let Caine know that.</div>' 'caine2'>><<setfaith +10>><<set $belief to "oldfaith", $god to "gods">><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"The Castigation was a great war," you tell him, "between the Norms and the Diminished." Caine's brow furrows. "Why'd they go to war?" "The Norms didn't like that the Diminished had powers," you say. "The Elves had their long lives, the Mages had their magic, the Ket had their arma, the Hunters had their grace… The Norms thought they were too powerful, and unfairly so. And the other races believed that the Norms were inferior, because they didn't have any power of the sort. Both sides treated each other poorly, though the Norms were the more slighted, because they were the minority and the Diminished outnumbered them—at least back then. Eventually it all boiled over into a long conflict, the Castigation, which the Norms won." "So what happened when they won?" "They established the Church. And the Autarchy." <i>And outlawed magic,</i> you don't say. <i>And began treating the Diminished like second-class citizens. Worse, chattel to be dispensed with.</i> Caine frowns. "So the Autarchy didn't always exist?" "No. In fact, the Sun Court is only a few hundred years old. But it's ruled absolutely ever since then, and all of the Continent has been… united under its government." "And that's why you can't use magic? Because the Norms back then said so?" "That's right." Caine looks down and picks a twig out of his hill horse's mane. "That seems foolish. Seems to me it's telling you to not be who you are, same as if someone told water it's not allowed to be wet." You don't say anything to that. Caine, as a Norm child, has the ability to speak freely—but you've seen Diminished have their tongues cut out for less. At your silence, Caine also stops speaking, and for a long time the two of you ride on without saying a word. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "caine1">><</link>></center>

"I see," is all Caine says. He looks pensive—or troubled. The two of you ride on for a long time in silence. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "caine1">><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<if settings.music is true>><<audio ":playing" fadeout>><<audio "camp" volume 0 loop fadeoverto 30 0.1>><</if>><</nobr>> You travel again until sunset, when the tops of the Shield Peaks bristle over the horizon and just tickle the undersides of the pink clouds sliding in. You know the routine well by now: at nightfall, the merchants move their wagons into a wide circle and stable one horse in front of each cart, so that they can't be stolen easily or all at once. Then they light individual fires in front of their wagons, with one large communal fire in the center of camp for those who have the privilege of eating from the caravan leader's pot. Prihine is one such privileged traveler, though she bids you to bring the food to her tent, where she can languish in privacy. Your stomach growls as you try to ignore the smells wafting from the plate you bear to her. You, of course, do not have the privilege of sharing a meal with Nilus and the other prominent merchants. Instead of hot plates of rabbit stew and loaves of crunchy, cheese-stuffed bread, you are forced to subsist on shriveled, sour apples—overflow from the fruit merchant's stock—and flavorless, hardtack biscuits from Kinley. The other 'van members ignore you, hustling past your lone campfire as they dine and talk with their friends and family. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "enterebert">><</link>></center>

Eventually Ebert, Caine's master, sidles up to your fire. He's a short, beady-eyed man, balding despite his young age. A trader of dried meats, he smells constantly of an overbearing sharpness, as if his clothes are encrusted in salt. He hands you a hard little yenin plum on the pretense of friendliness and says, "Mind if I take a seat?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Actually, I\'d rather be alone."</div>' 'ebert0.1'>><<setloyal -3>><<setcompassionate -2>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Be my guest."</div>' 'ebert0.2'>><<setcharisma +1>><<setloyal +2>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You shrug, indifferent to whether he sits down or not.</div>' 'ebert0.3'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Ebert frowns, but takes a seat anyway—he knows that a Diminished like you can do nothing to stop him. <<include "ebertseat">>

You nod, gesturing at an empty woven cushion directly across from you. Ebert sits down without thanking you, as if he always expected you to say yes. <<include "ebertseat">>

You don't look up from sanding your tin plate clean as Ebert takes a seat across from you. <<include "ebertseat">>

"Nice night," he remarks, nodding at your general surroundings. The 'van leader, Nilus, has decided to make camp in a small copse of spiraling larkon trees, their small purple fruits bobbing in the evening breeze like eyes. Above, the two moons—pearly Mitna and the little Polar Candle—sit like pale thumbprints in the sky. In the dimming light, you spot Prihine leaving her tent and attempting to requisition a nearby tailor's boy into plucking some larkon fruit for her. Probably craving dessert, you think. She has an infamous sweet tooth. "Pretty lady," Ebert comments, following your line of sight. When you turn to look back at him, he grins at you and waggles his eyebrows. Ever-so-imperceptibly, you tense. No matter how you actually feel about Prihine, a Diminished person admitting to even thinking about a Norm noblewoman in that way is risky, and possibly subject to dire consequences... if you're talking to the wrong person. It seems Ebert is testing you, but for what purpose? <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Really? I think she\'s awful."</div>' 'ebertprihine0.1'>><<setcourage +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item"><b>[LIE]</b> "Oh? I hadn\'t noticed."</div>' 'ebertprihine0.2'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Yes, I think she\'s quite attractive."</div>' 'ebertprihine0.3'>><<setcourage +2>><<setcunning -1>><<set $prihineromanceflag += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item"><b>[LIE]</b> "Yes, she\'s very pretty."</div>' 'ebertprihine0.4'>><<setcunning +1>><<setcharisma +1>><<set $prihineromanceflag += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I\'m <i>sure</i> her father wouldn\'t be pleased to hear you talking about her like that."</div>' 'ebertprihine0.5'>><<setcunning +2>><<setcompassionate -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Don\'t be a pig."</div>' 'ebertprihine0.6'>><<setcourage +2>><<setcompassionate -3>><<setcharisma -2>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Stay silent. This is a trap, and you\'re not going to fall for it.</div>' 'ebertprihine0.7'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

And you do: how could anybody be attracted to that screeching, spoiled girl? "Once I've got my money, I'll be glad to wash my hands of her," you state. Ebert barks out a laugh. It seems this was the right answer. "True enough," he acknowledges, shaking his head ruefully. "Fair as she is, her personality is quite ugly." Then he shrugs. "Aristocratic women aren't for me, anyway. Too—soft." <<include "playerorientation">>

Although you <i>have</i> noticed Prihine's fair looks, you're not about to admit that to Ebert. He's not going to get you that easily. He frowns at your neutral answer, but doesn't try to press you further. "I suppose that's why you're hired, not me," he grumbles. <<include "playerorientation">>

You glance once more at Prihine's slim figure, the ashy locks falling in soft waves down to her waist. "Too bad she's my employer," you add, not bothering to hide your feelings on the matter. Ebert sucks his cheeks in, as if not expecting this answer. "And a Norm noblewoman, at that," he says uneasily, failing to make eye contact with you. "Destined to be married to another." <<include "playerorientation">>

Although you don't actually think Prihine is attractive, you decide to string Ebert along on his own game. What's he playing at? He sucks in his cheeks, as if not expecting this answer. "Aye," he agrees uneasily. "Too bad she's a Norm noblewoman, eh? Destined to be married to another…" <<include "playerorientation">>

Ebert pales briefly. "Now, now," he says uneasily, holding up his hands. "I didn't mean anything by it. Just making conversation, that's all." <<include "playerorientation">>

Ebert's eyes harden briefly. "Just making conversation," he says, with a touch of sullen mutiny in his voice. <<include "playerorientation">>

Ebert presses his lips in at your silence. "Just making conversation," he mutters. <<include "playerorientation">>

As he turns away to pull some salted jerky from his pack, you loose a quiet breath. Regardless of what you said—or didn't say—Ebert has no business inquiring into that aspect of your life. Truth be told… <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You\'re attracted to men.</div>' 'orientation'>><<set $attractedto to "men">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You\'re attracted to women.</div>' 'orientation'>><<set $attractedto to "women">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You\'re attracted to people of multiple genders.</div>' 'orientation'>><<set $attractedto to "all">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You\'re attracted to people regardless of their gender identity.</div>' 'orientation'>><<set $attractedto to "all">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You\'re not attracted to anybody in a sexual or romantic way.</div>' 'buttout'>><<set $aroace to true>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

And when it comes to pursuing these attractions... <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You\'re interested in both sex and romance.</div>' 'buttout'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You\'re interested in sex, but not romance.</div>' 'buttout'>><<set $aro to true>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You\'re interested in romance, but not sex.</div>' 'buttout'>><<set $ace to true>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

But that isn't anything Ebert needs to know. He seems to be on the hunt for information that can be used against you—though what's set him off, you don't know. He turns back to the fire and cocks a curious look your way. "How came you to be in Lady Naveen's service, anyway?" Your shoulders relax. This, at least, isn't anything too personal: you already told the story to the 'van master when you joined, and Ebert could always just ask Prihine herself. You explain how Prihine's father hired you at a horse fair in Brunen, after he saw you fending off some bandits who were after your previous employer's stock. The Naveen name in general wields powerful influence, but Prihine's Brunen clan is a cousin-branch of little consequence, a backwater offshoot from the main house. It's only lately that their prospects have elevated, with Prihine's father arranging her judicious marriage to a Minister of Trade within the Consortium. You were hired to ensure that no one—political rivals, bandits, or otherwise—tries to take advantage of the money and favor that will soon be heading the Naveens' way. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "heritage">><</link>></center>

<i>As if any kidnapper wouldn't return Prihine after five minutes in her presence,</i> you think now. You've heard that her new fiance was smitten with her at first sight, and apparently wasn't deterred when she then proceeded to speak. Rumor has it he's in his fifties, near three times in her age; and he may need all of that life experience to handle her and her tantrums. <i>Good luck to him</i>, you think, just as Ebert says, "And where did you come from, before Brunen? Where's your hometown?" There it is again: that prickling sense of warning, down at the base of your neck. This meat merchant has definitely taken a little too much interest in you. You answer his question curtly, hoping to put a swift end to the <<linkappend "conversation." t8n>> <center><div class="heading">Select your heritage:</div></center><<set $possibleheritage to "">> <div class="cardcontainer"> <div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/hunterheritage.png" alt="Hunter Heritage" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link "Hunter">><<set $possibleheritage to "hunter">><<script>> Dialog.setup("Tutorial"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("heritagenote").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">Hunter Heritage</span></center></div> <div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/ketheritage.png" alt="Ket Heritage" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link "Ket">><<set $possibleheritage to "ket">><<script>> Dialog.setup("Tutorial"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("heritagenote").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">Ket Heritage</span></center></div> <div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/elfheritage.png" alt="Elf Heritage" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link "Elf">><<set $possibleheritage to "elf">><<script>> Dialog.setup("Tutorial"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("heritagenote").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">Elf Heritage</span></center></div> <div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/normheritage.png" alt="Norm Heritage" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link "Norm">><<set $possibleheritage to "norm">><<script>> Dialog.setup("Tutorial"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("heritagenote").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">Norm Heritage</span></center></div></div><</linkappend>>

<<if $heritagenote is false>>The world of Blest is occupied by many peoples and races, most of whom are collectively known as the Children of Light. Among the Children of Light, Mages and Mage-blooded persons are considered their own biologically-distinct group of people, as distinguished and recognizable as Elves or Norms: they are not a "class," but a race of people, often marked by their unusually-colored hair or faintly-glowing eyes, and possessing their own specific and unique cultures, beliefs, rituals, histories, and ways of life. You are biologically Mage-blooded, but were taken in and raised by a non-Mage community as an infant. Selecting your heritage will indicate what culture and community you were raised by and your specific origin story, but it does not change your physical race, which is predominantly Mage. Some heritages and origins do alter an aspect of your appearance, implying some measure of non-Mage ancestry: for example, selecting an Elvish heritage gives you half-pointed ears, or a Hunter heritage gives you a streak of white in your hair. However, this tiny percentage of non-Mage blood only manifests as a cosmetic difference; it does not have any effect on powers, racial abilities, or lifespan, regardless of which heritage is chosen, and should be considered negligible in all areas except cosmetic. Different heritages unlock different dialogue options, background stories, and levels of cultural knowledge. They also impact different stats—but your base Mage powers remain the same. <<set $heritagenote to true>> <center><<button 'Continue'>><<if $possibleheritage is "hunter">><<replace "#ui-dialog-body">><<include "hunterheritage">><</replace>><<elseif $possibleheritage is "elf">><<replace "#ui-dialog-body">><<include "elfheritage">><</replace>><<elseif $possibleheritage is "norm">><<replace "#ui-dialog-body">><<include "normheritage">><</replace>><<else>><<replace "#ui-dialog-body">><<include "ketheritage">><</replace>><</if>><</button>></center> <<else>><<if $possibleheritage is "hunter">><<replace "#ui-dialog-body">><<include "hunterheritage">><</replace>><<elseif $possibleheritage is "elf">><<replace "#ui-dialog-body">><<include "elfheritage">><</replace>><<elseif $possibleheritage is "norm">><<replace "#ui-dialog-body">><<include "normheritage">><</replace>><<else>><<replace "#ui-dialog-body">><<include "ketheritage">><</replace>><</if>><</if>>

<<if $possibleheritage is "hunter">>Hunter Heritage<<elseif $possibleheritage is "elf">>Elf Heritage<<elseif $possibleheritage is "norm">>Norm Heritage<<else>>Ket Heritage<</if>>

<<replace "#ui-dialog-title">><<include "heritagetitle">><</replace>><center><b>You were raised by an Elvish clan in the depths of a hidden valley called Vale.</b></center> In the halcyon days, the Elves ruled in ancient cities, hidden deep in primordial forests and concealed by labyrinthine illusions and wards. During the Castigation, however, many of these cities were besieged, burned, and ultimately abandoned, left to be reclaimed by the wilds once more. Refusing to settle in cities monitored and ruled by the Autarchy, many surviving Elvish refugees opted to adopt the life of nomads, constantly staying on the move to evade the notice and persecution of Autarchy forces like the Inquisitors. These nomadic clans and tribes are viewed with intense suspicion and scrutiny by anyone who happens to glimpse them—but they at least maintain some semblance of freedom, even while they never set down roots. Your adoptive parents were the leaders of one of these traveling Elvish settlements, making their semi-permanent home in the forested valley of Vale. Most of the year, the clan—which was the size of a large village—followed the migratory patterns of <i>yanni</i> elk, thinning their herds and wandering through unkempt wilds and hidden forests before returning to Vale for a season. A $child of the forest, you were brought up in the ways of the Elves, raised by your parents and their many clan-members. Although the migratory life was unstable and constantly in motion, you were taught how to not leave of a trace of yourself on the road, how to employ stealth and camoflauge, and how to evade the attention of your enemies. However, you were also taught to view outsiders with suspicion and distrust. <b>Bonus</b>: Razor Wits <b>Cosmetic</b>: Although you are predominantly Mage-blooded, a small measure of distant Elven ancestry seems to have given you faintly-pointed ears: not as noticeable as a full-blooded Elf's, but more tapered than on average. <center><<button 'Confirm'>><<set $heritage to "Elf", $cunning += 5>><<goto "ebertelfreact">><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>></center> <center><<button 'Return'>><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>></center>

<<replace "#ui-dialog-title">><<include "heritagetitle">><</replace>><center><b>You were raised by Norm pioneers in a frontier town called Westwood.</b></center> Although the Autarchy technically rules most of the known Continent, its reach is weakened and diluted in the Western territories, which are far less explored and populated than the great cities of the East. Your adopted parents were the leaders of a remote outpost called Westwood: a quaint and bucolic Norm town populated by intrepid farmers and pioneers looking to establish homesteads. Although you were the sole Diminished person to be found for miles, the Norms of your community never treated you with the disdain or discrimination more commonly found throughout the Continent. Isolated from all outside influence—including that of the Autarchy's—Westwood was left to develop its own culture and way of life. A $child of the frontier, you were raised in the comfort of your prosperous—though remote—farming community, brought up as the child of Westwood's popular mayor. Although this childhood didn't put you in touch with your Diminished roots or culture, you were encircled by a cradle of comfort and trust, making it easier for you to interact with strangers and speak to others with a sense of thoughtless charm. <b>Bonus</b>: Silver Tongue <b>Cosmetic</b>: The Norm heritage does not alter your appearance. <center><<button 'Confirm'>><<set $heritage to "Norm", $charisma += 5>><<goto "ebertnormreact">><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>></center> <center><<button 'Return'>><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>></center>

<<replace "#ui-dialog-title">><<include "heritagetitle">><</replace>><center><b>You were raised by Ket mercenaries in a coastal fishing village called Drummond's Point.</b></center> Before the Castigation, the Ket were a proud race of warriors known for their strict militaristic culture, superhuman strength, and explosive fighting abilities. They were the last people to fall in line to the Autarchy, battling its armies to their final breaths, and even today, Ket rebel forces and underground militias still simmer throughout the Continent. Your adopted parents were the leaders of one such rebel force, though their plans for liberation ultimately never came to fruition; their military company was disastrously defeated in battle, and they were forced to flee with the survivors to an abandoned fishing village on the coast. There, they eventually adopted new identities and converted their warriors into a small flotilla of mercenaries, resigning themselves to protecting merchant vessels from pirates and corsairs to earn a living. A $child of the sea, you were raised in the remote locale of Drummond's Point. Your parents were often absent and away at sea, but you were brought up in the rough care of their former soldiers and lieutenants, now transformed into humble fisherfolk. In the Ket fashion, however, pains were taken to ensure that you were given some measure of physical training as a youth, enabling you to grow into a tough and hardy little sea urchin. <b>Bonus</b>: Physique <b>Cosmetic</b>: As a result of your Ket heritage, you sport a small tattoo on your right wrist, as is traditional for many rural Ket children who come of age. <center><<button 'Confirm'>><<set $heritage to "Ket", $strength += 5>><<goto "ebertketreact">><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>></center> <center><<button 'Return'>><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>></center>

<<replace "#ui-dialog-title">><<include "heritagetitle">><</replace>><center><b>You were raised by Hunter émigrés in the dusty hills of a settlement called Maj.</b></center> Before the Castigation, the Hunters were a proud race of white-haired exorcists whose powers allowed them to hunt, slay, and banish demons. After the fall of the Diminished world, however, their unwavering faith in the old gods led to constant clashes with the Autarchy, even after the war was declared over. After several uprisings and attempted rebellions, their people were officially expelled from Haven and its nearby territories and scattered to the winds, threatened with either persecution or death. Forced to flee in a mass exodus, your adoptive parents eventually settled in Maj, an isolated settlement where Hunters like them could be safe from the ire of the Autarchy. There, they were left to scratch out a hard living, resorting to meager farmwork among the rocky lowlands. A $child of the hills, you were raised in the Hunter community of Maj. Although your parents did their best to give you a happy life, they were often subdued and preoccupied by their people's lost glory and fall from grace. You were often left to boldly explore the hills on your own, losing yourself in adventures and quests to escape the quiet resignation that awaited you back home. <b>Bonus</b>: Nerves of Steel <b>Cosmetic</b>: Although you are predominantly Mage-blooded, a small measure of distant Hunter ancestry seems to have given you a distinctive streak of white in your hair. <center><<button 'Confirm'>><<set $heritage to "Hunter", $courage += 5>><<goto "eberthunterreact">><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>></center> <center><<button 'Return'>><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>></center>

"I was raised in Vale," you tell Ebert, striving to keep your tone curt and matter-of-fact. Ebert's brows lift. "Vale," he repeats. "A wild place: we were always warned not to pass through there, lest we get picked off. Wasn't part of that valley destroyed, some years back?" <<include "heritageavoid">>

"I was raised in Maj," you tell Ebert, striving to keep your tone curt and matter-of-fact. Ebert's brows lift. "Maj," he repeats. "I remember that place. Passed through it a few times with the 'van, on our way to the old King's Road. Wasn't it destroyed, some years back?" <<include "heritageavoid">>

"I was raised in Drummond's Point," you tell Ebert, striving to keep your tone curt and matter-of-fact. Ebert's brows lift. "Drummond's Point," he repeats. "I've heard of that place. A little fishing village: we used to hear tell of it when we passed through Torsari. Wasn't it destroyed, some years back?" <<include "heritageavoid">>

"I was raised in Westwood," you tell Ebert, striving to keep your tone curt and matter-of-fact. Ebert's brows lift. "Westwood," he repeats. "We used to pass through there, a long time ago, when our route took us to Lindell. Wasn't that whole place destroyed, some years back?" <<include "heritageavoid">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I don\'t want to talk about it." </div>' 'ebertsnap1'>><<setcharisma -1>><<setcourage +1>><<setcunning -2>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item"><b>[LIE]</b> "I wouldn\'t know. I left a long time ago." </div>' 'ebertsnap2'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I\'m not sure. Anyway, where do <i>you</i> come from?"</div>' 'ebertsnap3'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Ebert frowns at your abrupt response, but you can't muster the energy to care. You're not eager to revisit those memories, that dark place in your history. Your nights are haunted by enough strange phantoms as it is. You don't need to add in the ghosts of the past. <<include "heritagedone">>

<<if $cunning >= 8>><<setcunning +2>> Ebert nods, apparently accepting your deft lie, though you can tell he's still curious about you and your story. Why? You're not eager to revisit those memories, that dark place in your history. Your nights are haunted by enough strange phantoms as it is. You don't need to add the ghosts of the past to the list.<<else>>Ebert frowns, clearly not buying this lie, but you don't care to pursue the topic any further. You're not eager to revisit those memories, that dark place in your history. Your nights are haunted enough strange phantoms as it is. You don't need to add in the ghosts of the past.<</if>> <<include "heritagedone">>

"Orlop," Ebert answers, though you can tell from his expression that he hasn't failed to notice your deflection. But you're not eager to return to those memories, that dark place in your history. Your nights are haunted by enough strange phantoms as it is. You don't need to add in the ghosts of the past. <<include "heritagedone">>

Luckily, your conversation is interrupted by the low thumping of a single drum, somewhere off at the edge of camp. You and Ebert fall silent as you strain to listen; some of the other 'van members have trailed away from their fires and are now somewhere in the copse of trees, chanting something. Your ears catch faint fragments of the words: <center><span class="song"> And so XE cast the blasphemer down, For there can be only be <b>ONE.</b> Instead of death and the embrace of the <b>ONE,</b> Tapyt and his children must reside in Hael, And so shall the <b>ONE</b> cast you as well! </span></center> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "songoftheonegod">><</link>></center>

You look at Ebert, who looks wry as he says, "Dusk sacrifice. Nilus decreed it today. Instead of only one chicken in the morning, now we're going to lose two a day." He shakes his head. "Foolishness. They think that the Endarkened are coming back because belief in the One-God wanes. That enough devotion will strengthen Xer power, and enable Xem to drive the Endarkened back. Superstitious nonsense." He waits, but when you say nothing, he continues: "Me, I think it has more to do with the Autarch. Her declining health. If anyone's got the power to stave off the demons, it'd be her, eh? But if she's getting sick…" <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "ebertsthreat">><</link>></center>

He falls silent. Then, when you glance at him from across the flames, his eyes suddenly flash to you. "Speaking of the Autarch, I heard you talking to the boy," Ebert says, his voice suddenly tight and low. <<if $avoidtellingcaine is true>>"Talking to him about the Castigation? Now who went ahead and gave you the right to do that?" "I didn't say anything," you protest. "<i>He</i> asked <i>me</i>, and I hardly said a word." Ebert shakes his head in apparent disgust. "Still. You're a bad influence. Ever since he's been hanging around you, he's been asking... questions. Foolish questions, questions that could get him eyeballed by the Inquisitors if he ever spoke them in the city." He glares at you. "I don't want my apprentice associating with rabble. It'll only bring trouble—and it threatens to tarnish my good name."<<else>>"Talking to him about the Autarchy, and the Castigation? Now who went ahead and gave you the right to do that?" "Caine asked me about it," you begin, taken aback. So this is what made Ebert seek you out tonight: he's angry that his apprentice has been associating with you. Of course. How could you expect otherwise? "He's the one who brought it up to <i>me</i>." "Doesn't mean you ought to go whispering poison into his ear. Hael, someone like you ought to know better," Ebert snaps.<</if>> He stands, and from the new vantage point he suddenly doesn't look like the squat little meat merchant whom you just had a friendly chat with: his eyes and mouth are thrown into shadow, and he towers over you ominously. "I want you to stay away from Caine," he says, his face like a funeral mask. "Don't put any more of your Diminished ideas into his head. If you come near him again, I'll report you to the guards in Haven for<<if $avoidtellingcaine is true>> corrupting our youth."<<else>> speaking ill of the Autarchy."<</if>> <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Fuck off, Ebert." </div>' 'fuebert1'>><<setcourage +4>><<setcunning -5>><<setintelligence -1>><<setcompassionate -1>><<set $staycaine to true>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I\'m sorry. I meant no harm, but I\'ll stay away from Caine."</div>' 'fuebert2'>><<setcourage -4>><<setloyal +5>><<setcompassionate +1>><<set $avoidcaine to true>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Fine. I was getting tired of the boy anyway."</div>' 'fuebert3'>><<setloyal -5>><<setcompassionate -5>><<set $avoidcaine to true>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Caine\'s my friend. If he seeks me out, I won\'t turn him away—but I promise not to say anything to him about matters that might trouble you."</div>' 'fuebert4'>><<setcharisma +3>><<setcourage -3>><<setloyal +3>><<set $staycaine to true>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item"><b>[LIE]</b> "Fine, Ebert. I\'ll do as you wish."</div>' 'fuebert5'>><<setcunning +4>><<setcourage +1>><<setloyal -3>><<set $staycaine to true>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Of course the only adult Norm who's attempted friendliness with you here ended up having ulterior motives. Well, the man can go straight to Hael: you'll do what you want, say what you want, and be friends with whomever you please. Ebert's expression darkens. "Mark me, Diminished," he warns. "Stay away from the boy, or you'll regret it." "Do your worst," you tell him, wondering as the man strides into the darkness if you'll live to regret your bold words. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "nameday">><</link>></center>

Although you enjoy your friendship with the boy, you know better than to get yourself in trouble with the authorities. Best to back off and do what Ebert says. Ebert nods, looking smug. "Good—then you have some sense in your head, after all. Remember what you promised." He walks away into the darkness, leaving you to wonder how you'll face Caine's sadness and confusion in the morning. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "nameday">><</link>></center>

Ebert looks briefly surprised by your immediate consent, but after a moment he nods to himself with satisfaction. "Fair enough," he grumbles. "Just remember what you promised." He walks off into the darkness, leaving the night to close in around you as you stare into your fire, alone. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "nameday">><</link>></center>

Ebert frowns. "That's not what I'm asking. I'm telling you to stay away from him, period." You do your best to stare back at him steadily. "Then it's your job to keep him away from me, not mine. Don't turn me into the villain when it's your problem." Ebert scowls, but says nothing more of the matter. You watch as he storms off into the darkness, leaving the night to close in around you as you stare into your fire, alone. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "nameday">><</link>></center>

Out loud you agree with all of Ebert's demands to avoid causing a scene, but internally you know you have absolutely no intention of obeying them. You can do what you wish and be friends with whomever you please: you'll just have to be more careful about it in the future. Ebert seems to be pacified with your lie—for now. He turns and strides off into the darkness without another word, leaving the night to close in around you as you plot your future deceptions. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "nameday">><</link>></center>

<<audio ":playing" fadeoverto 7 0>><<timed 3s>><<goto "thepast">><</timed>> <center><div class="dot"> /* <<timed 1s t8n>> ... <<next>>... <<next>>... <</timed>>*/ <span class="next">[[Next|thepast]]</span></div></center>

<<silently>><<if $gender is "male">><<set $nameday to "wreath">><<elseif $gender is "female">><<set $nameday to "flower">><<else>><<set $nameday to "garland">><</if>><</silently>><<timed 13s>><<goto "namedaypast">><</timed>><div class="dot2"><<fadein 3s 1s>><<fadeout 5s 7s>> That night, instead of ruined gods and unseen voices, you dream of your past...<</fadeout>><</fadein>>/*<span class="next">[[Next|namedaypast]]</span>*/</div>

<span class="splash">Many Years Ago...</span><span class="splashblur">It's the eve of your thirteenth birthday. Your <<print $nameday.toUpperFirst()>> Day—the day that marks your official passage into adulthood. The tree branch waving outside your bedroom window is <<nobr>><<cycle "$birthday" autoselect>> <<option "dark and gnarled as a bone. You were born in winter, to new snows and a crescent moon: good omens for clear eyes and a sharp mind." "winter">> <<option "full of pale, tentative buds. You were born in spring, to warm winds and the scent of apple blossoms: a sign heralding great beauty and charm." "spring">> <<option "full of vibrant green leaves. You were born in summer, to a lemon-colored sunrise and a sky streaked with red: a portent of courage and a strong, proud, bloody life." "summer">> <<option "full of tattered, fiery leaves. You were born in autumn, to the howling of silver wolves and the raking of a crying wind: an augury of quick-footed wit and a survivor's heart." "autumn">> <</cycle>> <</nobr>> You're standing in front of your mirror and getting dressed for the celebration; you eye your reflection critically and examine your straight-hipped, awkward body, made shapeless by adolescence. You worry over your appearance: the eyes of the entire community will be on you tonight, after all. And you already stand out from the crowd as it is: no one else in the village has <<nobr>> <<if $heritage is "Elf">> your faintly-pointed ears, human-sized with just a slight taper. They're a mark of your mixed blood—they mean you <i>must</i> have some distant Elvish ancestry in you, somewhere—but that's a cold comfort when you're feeling stunted and gangly and thoroughly mortal, surrounded by your ethereally beautiful neighbors and relatives. Your glowing eyes and burgeoning magical powers are dead giveaways of your predominant Mage blood... and even though your peers try to encourage you, and tell you that you have access to arcane tapestries full-blooded Elves could never hope to touch... you can't help but feel you'd still sacrifice some of that power for truly elfish ears. You'd like to fit in with your people more. <<elseif $heritage is "Hunter">> the streak of white that you have in your hair. A sign of your mixed blood, the only indication that you have <i>some</i> thin hint of snowy-haired Hunter lineage in you—for all the good that it's done you. For some reason, Hunter powers only transfer to pure-blooded Hunter children: they don't manifest in those without two full-blooded Hunter parents. And while you've never met your biological parents, you know they clearly weren't that: it's obvious from your glowing eyes and burgeoning magical talent that you are almost entirely Mage, at least in every way that counts. <br><br> Well, if you couldn't be given the famous demon-sensing powers of the Hunters, you think, you could have at least inherited a full head of white hair as a consolation prize. You can't count the number of times you've had to punch a local bully for calling you a skunk. <<elseif $heritage is "Ket">> the special tattoo on your wrist, unique among all others in Drummond's Point and given to you by your aunts and uncles. Your father had been thunderously, toweringly furious when he found out. All Ket have some mark of their homeland, allegiance, and often bloodline inked on their skin, with Ket warriors receiving the brand over their heart—but your tattoo simply means "child of the stars" in the old Kettish tongue. It tells any passing Ket your exact origins: that you have Mage blood—in fact, you are brimming with the power of a full-blooded Mage—and that no one knows where you came from before you were abandoned on your parents' doorstep. At the time, you'd embraced the truthful mark with pride—but now you look at it and wonder how much easier your life would be if you'd been born with arma instead of magic. <<else>> your bright, softly-glowing eyes, the ancient mark of a full-blooded Mage. Although your mother always claimed she thought you could have some Norm ancestry, you were always dubious about how she could know. You look thoroughly Mage-blooded, and in your tiny community, you stick out like a sore thumb, your growing body thrumming with a power that no one in Westwood could hope to understand. <</if>><</nobr>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "boarbrush">><<if $birthday is "winter">><<setintelligence +5>><<elseif $birthday is "spring">><<setcharisma +5>><<elseif $birthday is "summer">><<setcourage +5>><<else>><<setcunning +5>><</if>><</link>></center></span>

Sighing, you turn to your dressing table and pick up your mother's favorite boar bristle hair brush—the one with the fine handle carved from bone. You miss her; she would have given you some confidence tonight. Although you were not related by blood, you shared similar features, both of you possessing a <<nobr>><<cycle "$expression" autoselect>> <<option "fine-featured, intelligent face." "intelligent">> <<option "playful, perceptive face." "playful">> <<option "charismatic, attractive face." "attractive">> <<option "strong-featured, striking face." "bold">> <</cycle>><</nobr>> You stare intently at your visage in the mirror, searching now for that shade of your mother. It has been three years now since she passed from a wasting sickness, the Grey Death. You don't find her in your reflection, but you do note that you haven't developed any papules or whelks or boils yet, thank the Sun. You prod anxiously at your chin, careful not to jinx it. Your father warned you that the change would be coming, and every morning you've feared waking up to find that your face has erupted <<if $heritage is "Elf">>and given everyone even more cause to mark you as different.<<else>>like Tekrom Galen's after <i>his</i> Wreath Day.<</if>> So far, you've been in the clear. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Keep looking at the mirror and customize your appearance. </div>' 'customizeappearance'>><<if $expression is "intelligent">><<setintelligence +2>><<elseif $expression is "attractive">><<setcharisma +2>><<elseif $expression is "bold">><<setcourage +2>><<else>><<setcunning +2>><</if>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Turn away from the mirror and use a randomized appearance. </div>' 'randomappearance'>><<if $expression is "intelligent">><<setintelligence+2>><<elseif $expression is "attractive">><<setcharisma +2>><<elseif $expression is "bold">><<setcourage +2>><<else>><<setcunning +2>><</if>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<set $eyecolor to either("light green", "light blue", "dark blue", "dark green", "gray", "dark", "brown", "hazel", "amber")>><<set $haircolor to either("black", "fiery", "silver", "blonde", "brown", "coppery", "auburn", "chestnut", "platinum", "straw-colored", "honey-colored", "dark")>><<set $hairtype to either("straight", "wavy", "curly", "kinky", "coiled")>><<set $hairlength to either("short", "close-cropped", "ear-length", "chin-length", "shoulder-length", "long")>><<set $skincolor to either("golden", "tawny", "dusky", "dark", "fair", "beige", "tan", "olive", "bronze", "umber", "pale")>>Your reflection shows a $girl with $eyecolor eyes, $hairlength $hairtype $haircolor hair, and $skincolor skin. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">The mirror sees true. </div>' 'themirrorvisitor'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">There\'s a smudge on the mirror: your reflection doesn\'t look right. </div>' 'randomappearance'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<div class="heading">Skin Color</div><div class="box"><div class="columns"><label><<radiobutton "$skincolor" "dark" checked>>  Dark</label> <label><<radiobutton "$skincolor" "umber">>  Umber</label> <label><<radiobutton "$skincolor" "fawn">>  Fawn</label></div> <div class="columns"><label><<radiobutton "$skincolor" "tawny">>  Tawny</label> <label><<radiobutton "$skincolor" "tan">>  Tan</label> <label><<radiobutton "$skincolor" "olive">>  Olive</label></div> <div class="columns"><label><<radiobutton "$skincolor" "beige">>  Beige</label> <label><<radiobutton "$skincolor" "bronze">>  Bronze</label> <label><<radiobutton "$skincolor" "golden">>  Golden</label></div> <div class="columns"><label><<radiobutton "$skincolor" "rosy">>  Rosy</label> <label><<radiobutton "$skincolor" "fair">>  Fair</label> <label><<radiobutton "$skincolor" "pale">>  Pale</label></div></div> <div class="heading">Facial Marks</div><<checkbox "$appearance2" "" "freckles,">>  Freckles <<checkbox "$appearance3" "" "moles,">>  Moles <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "eyecolor">><</link>></center>

<<nobr>> <div class="heading">Eye Color</div><div class="box"><div class="columns"><label><<radiobutton "$eyecolor" "scarlet">>Deep Scarlet</label> <label><<radiobutton "$eyecolor" "ember-colored">>Fiery Orange</label> <label><<radiobutton "$eyecolor" "golden">>Warm Gold</label> <label><<radiobutton "$eyecolor" "light green">>Bright Jade</label> <label><<radiobutton "$eyecolor" "deep green">>Forest Green</label></div> <div class="columns"><label><<radiobutton "$eyecolor" "hazel">>Fractured Hazel</label> <label><<radiobutton "$eyecolor" "turquoise">>Sparkling Turquoise</label> <label><<radiobutton "$eyecolor" "dark blue">>Dark Sapphire</label> <label><<radiobutton "$eyecolor" "light blue">>Sky Blue</label> <label><<radiobutton "$eyecolor" "violet">>Glittering Amethyst</label> </div> <div class="columns"><label><<radiobutton "$eyecolor" "amber">>Burnt Amber</label> <label><<radiobutton "$eyecolor" "rich brown">>Rich Chocolate</label> <label><<radiobutton "$eyecolor" "storm-gray">>Stormcloud Gray</label> <label><<radiobutton "$eyecolor" "dark">>Midnight Black</label> <label><<radiobutton "$eyecolor" "pale">>Pale Opal</label></div></div> <br> Or input a <<linkappend "custom eye color." t8n>> Please use lower-case only. <br><br> <<textbox "$eyecolor" "blue">><</linkappend>> <</nobr>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>'>><<if $eyecolor is "glowing">><<run Dialog.setup("Error"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("EyeWarning").processText()); Dialog.open();>><<else>><<goto "customizehair">><</if>><</link>></center>

<div class="heading">Hair Color </div><div class="box"><div class="columns"><label><<radiobutton "$haircolor" "raven">>  Raven Black</label> <label><<radiobutton "$haircolor" "dark brown">>  Dark Brown</label> <label><<radiobutton "$haircolor" "chestnut-colored">>  Chestnut Brown</label> <label><<radiobutton "$haircolor" "copper-colored">>  Copper-Colored</label> <label><<radiobutton "$haircolor" "autumn-colored">>  Autumn-Colored</label> <label><<radiobutton "$haircolor" "fiery">>  Flame-Colored</label></div> <div class="columns"><label><<radiobutton "$haircolor" "golden">>  Straw Gold</label> <label><<radiobutton "$haircolor" "honey-blond">>  Honey-Blond</label> <label><<radiobutton "$haircolor" "platinum">>  Frosty Platinum</label> <label><<radiobutton "$haircolor" "silver">>  Deep Silver</label> <label><<radiobutton "$haircolor" "ashy">>  Pale Ash</label> <label><<radiobutton "$haircolor" "ivory-colored">>  Faded Ivory</label></div> <div class="columns"><label><<radiobutton "$haircolor" "rose-gold">>  Burnished Rose-Gold</label> <label><<radiobutton "$haircolor" "pink">>  Pastel Pink</label> <label><<radiobutton "$haircolor" "pale blue">>  Sky Blue</label> <label><<radiobutton "$haircolor" "mint-green">>  Mint-Green</label> <label><<radiobutton "$haircolor" "plum-burgundy">>  Plum Burgundy</label> <label><<radiobutton "$haircolor" "wine-red">>  Wine-Red</label></div></div> Or input a <<linkappend "custom hair color." t8n>> Please use lower-case only. <<textbox "$haircolor" "auburn">><</linkappend>> <div class="heading">Hair Length</div><div class="box"><div class="columns"><label><<radiobutton "$hairlength" "close-cropped">>  Close-Cropped</label> <label><<radiobutton "$hairlength" "short" checked>>  Short</label> <label><<radiobutton "$hairlength" "long">>  Long</label></div> <div class="columns"><label><<radiobutton "$hairlength" "ear-length">>  Ear-Length</label> <label><<radiobutton "$hairlength" "chin-length">>  Chin-Length</label> <label><<radiobutton "$hairlength" "throat-length">>  Throat-Length</label></div> <div class="columns"><label><<radiobutton "$hairlength" "shoulder-length">>  Shoulder-Length</label> <label><<radiobutton "$hairlength" "chest-length">>  Chest-Length</label> <label><<radiobutton "$hairlength" "waist-length">>  Waist-Length</label></div></div> <div class="heading">Hair Type</div><div class="box"><div class="columns"><label><<radiobutton "$hairtype" "curly" checked>>  Curly</label> <label><<radiobutton "$hairtype" "wavy">>  Wavy</label> <label><<radiobutton "$hairtype" "straight">>  Straight</label></div> <div class="columns"><label><<radiobutton "$hairtype" "coiled">>  Coiled</label> <label><<radiobutton "$hairtype" "kinky">>  Kinky</label> <label><<radiobutton "$hairtype" "bouncy">>  Bouncy</label></div> <div class="columns"><label><<radiobutton "$hairtype" "tousled">>  Tousled</label> <label><<radiobutton "$hairtype" "tied">>  Tied</label> <label><<radiobutton "$hairtype" "braided">>  Braided</label></div></div> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>'>><<if $haircolor is "covered">><<run Dialog.setup("Error"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("HairWarning").processText()); Dialog.open();>><<else>><<goto "customizedone">><</if>><</link>></center>

You have not selected a hair color. Please select a hair color before continuing. <center><<button 'Return'>><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>></center>

You have not selected an eye color. Please select an eye color before continuing. <center><<button 'Return'>><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>></center>

You stare at yourself in the mirror: a young $girl with $skincolor skin, $eyecolor eyes, and $hairlength $hairtype $haircolor hair stares back at you. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Yes, that\'s you. Same as you\'ve ever been.</div>' 'themirrorvisitor'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Something doesn\'t look quite right. </div>' 'customizeappearanceagain'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

There's a smudge on the mirror, or something; it warps your appearance, makes you look like a stranger to yourself. You look more closely again. <<include "customizeappearance">>

You're still contemplating your reflection—half-alien to you, almost a young $woman and not quite a child, adolescent and anxious and strange—when you suddenly feel as if someone is in the room, watching you. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "thebirthdayvisitor">><</link>></center>

You turn, and for a moment you think to yourself that your nerves are simply jangled by the upcoming event. There is no one in your simple bedroom: just the sparse wooden furniture and bare walls that you have grown up with since the day you were found abandoned on your guardians' doorstep. But then—there's a darting movement at the corner of your eye. A ripple and distortion in the air, like waves of heat coming off of a hot tin roof. Suddenly a shadow—no, a figure—warbles into view by your wardrobe, flickering here and there, uncertain and barely visible. It's a strange-looking thing, lopsided, the outline of its head much too big and drooping on its finger-thin body. It looks like a child's drawing of a sunflower, bending under its own weight—or the shadow of a cowering slave, bending under the whip of its master. It trembles violently in an unseen wind. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You shout for an adult—someone needs to save you from this horrible spirit!</div>' 'bdayspirit1'>><<setloyal +2>><<setcourage -2>><<setcunning +2>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You stand still, silently observing the strange apparition. You want to understand exactly what has appeared in your room before acting. </div>' 'bdayspirit2'>><<setintelligence +3>><<setloyal -2>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You lunge for your only weapon: a straight wooden branch you\'ve taken to using as a kind of bat.</div>' 'bdayspirit3'>><<setcourage +2>><<setstrength +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You address the creature directly: "What are you?"</div>' 'bdayspirit4'>><<setcharisma +2>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

But no one answers your call. The house is empty, as all of the adults are outside, preparing for your birthday celebration. The creature raises its head at your shout; if it had been preoccupied before, you've drawn its attention now. <<include "apparition">>

For a moment you and the strange, translucent figure regard each other in silence. You note how the thing seems to weave and bob in the air unsteadily, as if it's just as surprised as you are to find itself standing in your room. What could it be? A ghost? Some form of ancient demon, the likes of which have never been seen in Blest? <<include "apparition">>

Your friend Zori recently mocked you for carrying around your <i>roto</i> bat, but you always knew it was good for more than smacking around the soft leather skin you've pilfered as a ball. You menace the strange creature in your room with your branch and shout, "Stay back!" <<include "apparition">>

The figure cocks its head, then looks vaguely down at its own body, as if it's just as confused as you are. Then it looks back up, and although you can see no visible features on its 'face', you feel some alien gaze arrowing down into your core. <<include "apparition">>

<span id="spirittalk"><<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="gradient"><span class="glitchy" data-text="Child,">"Child,"</span></span><<else>><span class="gradient">"Child,"</span><</if>> the figure warbles. It takes an uneven, halting step towards you; its voice is both indistinct and unforgettable, like the crackling of autumn leaves underfoot. The whir of a lantern bug's wings. It reaches out to you with slender, shadowy arms and says, <<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="gradient"><span class="glitchy" data-text="Danger.">"Danger."</span></span><<else>><span class="gradient">"Danger."</span><</if>> You try not to recoil. Is it saying that you are in danger—or that you <i>are</i> the danger? <<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="gradient"><span class="glitchy" data-text="Words,">"Words,"</span></span><<else>><span class="gradient">"Words,"</span><</if>> the figure says. <<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="gradient"><span class="glitchy" data-text="Eight. Words. Us. Power. Use. Destroy. Create. Save.">"Eight. Words. Us. Power. Use. Destroy. Create. Save."</span></span><<else>><span class="gradient">"Eight. Words. Us. Power. Use. Destroy. Create. Save."</span><</if>> It pauses, trembling in the light emanating from the few candles in your room: you can't tell if the trembling is from fear or exhaustion. <<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="gradient"><span class="glitchy" data-text="Eight,">"Eight,"</span></span><<else>><span class="gradient">"Eight,"</span><</if>> it repeats. <<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="gradient"><span class="glitchy" data-text="Use. Save. Last. After—all gone.">""Use. Save. Last. After—all gone."</span></span><<else>><span class="gradient">""Use. Save. Last. After—all gone."</span><</if>></span> Then, abruptly, the figure <<link "vanishes.">><<replace "#spirittalk">><span class="redacted"> Eight,</span> , it says, or something like that: <span class="redacted"> Eight words. Save.</span> , you can't remember...<</replace>><</link>> Its passing sends a sudden wind through your room, and when the current passes through you, your vision shakes and blurs briefly. Although you don't move, you feel as if you're tossed into the air, your brain rattling around in your skull like a marble in a cup. The earth shivers all around you. Then the world resettles, and your vision clears. The silhouette that you saw is utterly gone. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "birthdayrunaway">><<set $godspeaker +=1>><</link>></center>

Bewildered and a little frightened, you turn down and run down the stairs—only to be greeted by the sight of your empty home. "Father?" you call out. No answer. For a moment a pang of fear strikes your chest, arrow-like—could the apparition have snatched your parent away with its passing? But then the sounds of revelry and flickering firelight outside the kitchen window draw your attention, and you relax. Of course. Your father and the others are still outside, preparing. Relieved, you dash outside to join them. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "birthdayjoin">><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<if $heritage is "Elf">> The scent of bonfires and night blossoms greets you as you step outside. This is Vale, valley of hidden things, a place of wood and deer and tree and river. The Elves who live here travel the land in a caravan for most parts of the year, following the wanderings of deer and the rarer <i>yanni</i> elk; they return to their ancestral home for a few sennights once a year to pay their tributes to Bes, the Green Lady, who is said to sleep somewhere under the trees of Vale. As an homage to her, the Elves also make their homes in the trees, in makeshift little houses and shelters and platforms, where they sleep as a community under the stars. <br><br> As the adopted $child of the Elves' chieftain, the Speaker, you live in one of the bigger treehouses: in fact, it's the only structure that remains permanently standing during the Elves' year-long migration. The tribe, insulated as it is, has always treated you as one of their own, despite your mysterious appearance as an infant. Despite your lack of true Elven features. Accordingly, the celebration they've prepared for you is one of their finest: an elaborate ritual involving much singing, dancing, and a joyous hunt at the end of the night, where you'll join the adults on their ahfuri for the first time and toss your <<if $gender is "female">> necklace of flowers around the neck of a doe. A symbol of throwing away your childhood as you grow into a woman. <<elseif $gender is "male">>wreath onto the antlers of a stag. A symbol of throwing away your childhood as you grow into a man. <<else>> garland around the neck of a deer. A symbol of throwing away your childhood as you grow into an adult. <</if>> <<elseif $heritage is "Ket">> The scent of charred wood and brine greets you as you step outside. This is Drummond's Point: a place of salt, and rock, and fish, and bone. The settlement sits on the cliffs of the Banteen Sea, the Sea of Plenty—and thus, while your village is small, it thrives on the good fishing and fair weather that the area offers. You can see the results of that prosperity now, in the preparations for your party; there are imported streamers from Capra hanging from constructions of driftwood all along the beach, the smells of roasting fruit shipped in from inland. As you approach, the sun-weathered faces of the men and women who populate Drummond's Point soften into quiet smiles at the sight of you. <br><br> You are the adopted child of the village leader, a gruff old Ket who retreated with his group of rebels after the second Ket Uprising and resettled as a community of sellswords, hired out to defend merchant ships and coastal villages from corsair raids. Your father is often out at sea, leading his men, but today he has returned to weave your ceremonial garland, which you'll toss into the sea after a night of feasting and drinking. A symbol of throwing away your childhood as you grow into an adult. <<elseif $heritage is "Norm">> The scent of smoking meats and crushed grass greets you as you step outside. This is Westwood, a Norm outpost on the frontier: a place of sun and dale and idle afternoons spent in the fields or the settlement's little bustling market. You are the adopted child of the new town's mayor, and the only Mage to speak of for many leagues. But despite your mysterious origins, or the <i>iladrin</i> in your eyes, this town on the very edges of the Autarchy has never treated you like a Diminished outcast. Instead, you're something of a minor celebrity—despite the fact that everyone knows you can't actually perform magic, even if they asked. Which they wouldn't, since to even ask would bring the threat of death. <br><br> Still, your elevated status shows in the town's preparations for your birthday party: there are imported streamers from Capra, brought in by the monthly mail caravan, and a communal buffet heaped high with glazed and braided loaves, cured meats, and dishes of sugared nuts. At the end of the night, you'll stand at the head table and give a speech, at which point you'll toss your ceremonial garland into the waiting crowd. Whoever catches it will wear the item to <i>their</i> Wreath or Flower Day, or save it for their own child's. It's supposed to be good luck—and as the village's collective darling, you know your festoon will be much fought over. <<else>> The scent of smoke and dust greets you as you step outside. This is Maj, a dusty little farming community at the base of the Shield Peaks. It's a harsh landscape, full of grey soil like ash and refugees trying to scrape out a living in the dirt. The crops that grow here are meager and sickly, but they contribute to the demands of the nearby city Leore. And more than that, Maj is one of the last stops on the old King's Road before straying into the unsettled western territories, making it a reluctant-but-necessary stopover for many pioneers and travelers. <br><br> Maj's odd worldliness shows in its preparations for your thirteenth birthday celebration. The party looks as if it's assembled from scraps: you spot colored lanterns from Stroud here, shabby white table linens from Courtshore there. It's to be expected. You are only the adopted child of a simple farmer, and to your knowledge the Hunters (who make up the majority of Maj) never celebrated Flower Days or Wreath Days in their native homeland, the Reach. This night, along with many others, is a concession: a capitulation to being absorbed into the Autarchy against their will. <br><br> It certainly puts a dour spin on things. At the end of the night you suppose you'll stand, sing a short song—<i>but which one? No one's told you what to do</i>—and then toss your ceremonial garland into the flames to a round of half-hearted claps. A symbol of throwing your childhood away, you think grimly. An act of destruction to mark your first steps as an adult. <</if>><</nobr>> You spot your father now, patiently weaving your ceremonial garland as he sits by the main bonfire. Normally it would be your mother's job to do this, but your father now takes up both parental duties for the night: the weaving of the garland and the passing of the cup. Before you can make your way towards him, your childhood friend Zori steps into your path. <<nobr>><<cycle "$zoriher" autoselect>> <<option "Her eyes light up when she sees you." "her">> <<option "His eyes light up when he sees you." "his">> <<option "Xer eyes light up when xe sees you." "xer">> <</cycle>><</nobr>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "zorigender">><<if $zoriher is "her">><<set $zorifemale to true, $zorishe to "she", $zoriher to "her", $zorihers to "hers", $zorithem to "her">><<elseif $zoriher is "his">><<set $zorimale to true, $zorishe to "he", $zoriher to "his", $zorithem to "him", $zorihers to "his">><<else>><<set $zorixix to true, $zorishe to "xe", $zoriher to "xer", $zorihers to "xis", $zorithem to "xem">><</if>><</link>></center>

"$firstname!" $zorishe shouts happily, flinging a fistful of petals into your face. "Happy birthday!" Then $zorishe pauses when $zorishe catches the look on your face. "Wait, what's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost!" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Not now, Zori. I need to speak to my father." </div>' 'zorichoice1'>><<setloyal -2>><<setcharisma -1>><<setcompassionate -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Something strange just happened..." </div>' 'zorichoice2'>><<setloyal +2>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"It\'s nothing. Thanks for the flowers!" </div>' 'zorichoice3'>><<setcharisma +1>><<setcunning +2>><<setloyal -2>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

You try to move your friend aside, but Zori stays put, looking concerned. "What's happened?" You just shake your head and try to plow through the crowd towards your father. Zori can't do anything to help you; $zorishe only has room in $zoriher head for fantasies about adventuring and fighting off imaginary demons. But your father will know what to do. He always knows what to do. <<include "birthdayfather">>

You quickly explain what just occurred in your room. Zori claps a hand to $zoriher forehead and exclaims, "Sun above, $firstname, what do you think it was?" "<i>Servori,</i>" you answer, more than a little relieved that your friend immediately believes you. "The way is closed. I was going to tell my father about it." Zori nods. "Good idea. <i>He</i> would know." <<print $zoriher.toUpperFirst()>> face suddenly brightens. "You don't think it was an Endarkened, do you?" "Flame and flood, I should hope not." Zori has always been like this: $zoriher head is full of nothing but fantasies about adventuring and fighting off imaginary foes, and $zorishe's especially taken a grotesque interest in learning about the Endarkened. But demons are the stuff of fairytales, and haven't walked the Continent in many years. Why would one show itself in your room now? And if it <i>was</i> a demon—what did it do to you? "Let's go talk to my father," you say, but before you can, someone spots you and blows the ceremonial horn. Everyone roars in response: the festivities can now begin! <<include "birthday13">>

You shake your head. What would be the point in trying to explain? Zori and the others would just think you've caught a fever, and you yourself aren't even sure of what you saw. Better to keep quiet about it now and wait until the celebrations are over. You force a smile on your face and say, "Now, what'd you get me for a present?" Zori grins and rubs $zoriher hands together. <<print $zorishe.toUpperFirst()>> is effervescent and guileless, and your closest friend—the only one daring enough to approach you when you were introduced to the other village children, so long ago. Your orphanhood and Mage blood mean nothing to $zorithem: in fact, $zoriher head is only filled with fantasies of having adventures, fighting off imaginary demons. "Wait 'til you see it, $firstname," $zorishe crows. "It'll have to be after the celebration, of course. I've hidden it in a secret place, and you'll have to follow these clues…" However, before $zorishe can finish $zoriher thought, someone in the crowd spots you and blows on their ceremonial horn. The festivities can now begin! <<include "birthday13">>

…But when you finally reach him, you find that the words dry up on your tongue. It has always been this way between the two of you, but especially so since your mother died. Things seem to pass between the two of you in eddies and currents, not words; you <i>feel</i> your father's concern for you, his <<if $heritage is "Norm">> gentle <<else>> rough <</if>> kindness, the way he prepares meals for you and sometimes silently cradles the back of your head in his oversized palm. But he doesn't <i>speak</i> it—and you, with the awkward clumsiness of a teenager, have found yourself unable to say much to him, in return. Somewhere along the way you've found yourself in awe of him, or shy, <<if $heritage is "Hunter">>or angry,<</if>> or everything all at once. So when he looks up from his garland-weaving and looks at you curiously, you don't know how to string the words together. How to phrase it so that he'll take you seriously, instead of dismissing your story as the fanciful imaginings of a child? Before you can decide, someone spots you and blows the ceremonial horn. It's time for the festivities to begin! <<include "birthday13">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Happy Birthday!</span></div></div>' "birthday131">><</link>></center>

After that, everything is a whir of color and noise. People cheering, toasting you, guiding you this way and that; Zori's laughing face glows beside you. You are only a child, <<if $gender is "xixian">> barely grown, <<else>> barely a $woman, <</if>> and you are powerless to resist the pull of your own <<print $nameday.toUpperFirst()>> Day. Your strange encounter washes away in the presence of realer, warmer figures and emotions. Everyone in the community has gathered to celebrate your coming of age. Your father smiles as he watches you from afar. There is dancing, and singing, and feasting, and laughter. <center><<linkappend "And then…" t8n>> <p style="text-align:right">A scream.</p> <<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "thebdayscream">><</link>><</linkappend>></center>

At first, you only dimly register it, and chalk up the sound to someone breaking a glass of beer, or being startled by one of the children playing underfoot. It's only when a kind of hush falls on the edges of the crowd that you turn from your celebrating to look. <<nobr>><<if $heritage is "Elf">> There's a figure, standing there at the edge of the trees. <<elseif $heritage is "Norm">> There's a figure, standing there at the edge of the town square. <<elseif $heritage is "Hunter">> There's a figure, standing there at the edge of the field. <<else>> There's a figure, standing there at the edge of the cliff. <</if>><</nobr>> It's watching your party, silently, patiently, like a predator watching a bunch of rabbits frolic from tall grass. It's not like the figure that appeared in your room—this creature is much taller, twice a man's height, hulking, with pale-gleaming skin and eyes as black and fractious as a beetle's. It's not… human, although it stands upright like a man, with its lashing, fleshy tail and long talons that bead green on the ends with venom. And it radiates sheer <i>malice</i>. Somehow, without knowing how, you know that it is waiting and looking for you. "Sun help us," Zori whispers, beside you. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Everybody, RUN!" You\'ve all got to get out of here! </div>' 'runbdayrun'>><<setcunning +1>><<setcompassionate +2>><<setloyal +2>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You kneel swiftly and pick up a rock to throw at this terrible creature, hoping to scare it away. </div>' 'runbdayrun2'>><<setcourage +2>><<setstrength +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You look around for your father—has he seen this thing yet? </div>' 'runbdayrun3'>><<setintelligence +2>><<setloyal +2>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You try and slip away by yourself, before the monster notices you. </div>' 'runbdayrun4'>><<setcunning +3>><<setcompassionate -3>><<setloyal -3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Your shout breaks the partiers out of whatever fearful reverie has fallen over them. Immediately, panic breaks out: some of the adult men and women surge towards the creature, brandishing makeshift weapons and shouting; others shove people out of the way to escape its notice. <<include "demonbirthday">>

You pick up a large rock, about the size of your fist, and hurl it towards the creature. Your shot falls very short, and the beast doesn't flinch; Zori joins you and tosses another rock, shouting, "Go away!" Your actions break the partiers out of whatever fearful reverie has fallen over them. Immediately, panic breaks out: some of the adults surge towards the creature, brandishing other makeshift weapons and shouting; others shove people out of the way to escape its notice. <<include "demonbirthday">>

But you can't find him—there are too many people blocking your way. What you do see is Zori, picking up a rock and hurling it towards the creature. "Go away!" $zorishe shouts. As brave as ever. <<print $zoriher.toUpperFirst()>> movement breaks the partiers out of whatever fearful reverie has fallen over them. Immediately, panic breaks out: some of the adults surge towards the creature, brandishing other makeshift weapons and shouting; others shove people out of the way to escape its notice. <<include "demonbirthday">>

But Zori catches your wrist as you turn to leave. "Where are you going?" $zorishe hisses. "We have to go," you murmur. "Come with me." "Go <i>where</i>?" Before you can answer, there's another scream at the edge of the crowd. Someone has stooped and thrown a rock at the creature, breaking whatever fearful reverie has fallen over the rest of the partiers. Immediately, panic breaks out: some of the adults surge towards the creature, brandishing other makeshift weapons and shouting; others shove people out of the way to escape its notice. <<include "demonbirthday">>

You are immediately jostled and buffeted by the currents of people pushing this way and that. A barrage of sounds assaults your ears: babies wailing, hoarse voices screaming, calling out to loved ones—someone laughing darkly in the background. You nearly lose your balance and get trampled in the panic, but manage to scramble up onto a table—your knees slipping in greasy plates and mashed pastries—to escape the chaos. <<nobr>><<if $heritage is "Hunter">> Someone pushes past you—old Nyrol, his lips drawn back from his teeth in feral snarl—and he lunges towards the monster like a man possessed, and his expression is fixed in an unseeing, hateful stare that you've never seen before. <i>The blood-rage</i>, you realize, the thought fluttering past you like a tattered leaf in a high wind. You'd heard tell of how pure-blooded Hunters launch into a berserker rage when in the proximity of a demon. For a moment, a tiny, mad hope blooms inside your chest. <br><br> But then another thought springs at you, a conversation in another time: your mother, gossiping with your father in the kitchen, impatient and annoyed by Nyrol's drunken ramblings earlier in the evening. He'd been boasting about how he'd come from a long line of Hunter warriors, how he would have been a great hero in the days of old; and your mother had scoffed and said, "<i>Pure blood is one thing, but skill's another. Hunter exorcists train their entire lives to be able to wield their powers. Some seclude themselves in monasteries, or go on great pilgrimages to master themselves and their grace. We are farmers, with no training or education, and only the barest dribble of power to speak of. If a demon attacked tomorrow, I think we'd all be just as helpless as any Norm: Nyrol included.</i>" <br><br> "<i>It is a moot point,</i>" your father had returned in a weary voice. "<i>Demons walk this plane no more, and the world has no need for Hunters. Let old Nyrol dream.</i>" <br><br> Your hands reach out, try to grab for the old drunkard's sleeve, but it's too late, it's far too late; he's already slipped from your grasp. <i>Let him dream</i>, your father's voice echoes in your head. <i>It's only a dream.</i> <br><br> Except it's not. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "hunterbdaypart2">><</link>></center> <<else>> Almost against your will, you drag your eyes towards the monster on the edge of the milieu. The group of adults has surrounded it, a circle bristling with swords and knives and even—ridiculously—a pitchfork or two. Your father is chief among them, and you feel a meteoric fear smote your heart at the sight of him. <br><br> <i>No</i>, you think. <i>This is all wrong.</i> <br><br> Slowly, and with a terrible sense of leisure, the monster finally moves, lifting one of its over-long arms. You see now that <i>it</i> is the person laughing, that it has been laughing this entire time—delighted by its victims' pain and terror. It ignores the weapons menacing it as easily as a man ignores the frenzied barbs of ants. <br><br> Then it swipes. <br><br> And just like that, half of the men and women in your community are dead. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>No...</span></div></div>' "everyondead">><</link>></center> <</if>><</nobr>>

Almost against your will, you drag your eyes towards the monster on the edge of the milieu. The group of adults has surrounded it, their hands and eyes glowing white with their grace—the racial power given to them to slay demons. But their grace is weak, you know: diluted by centuries of mixed bloodlines and the Autarchy's oppression. Your mother was right, you think: the strongest among them could barely exorcise a Thrall on their own. It was why they were defeated in their last Uprising, and cast to the winds as refugees. But you can only hope that they can defeat the monster together. Your hopes are dashed as soon as the beast moves. Slowly, and with a terrible sense of leisure, the monster lifts one of its over-long arms. You see now that <i>it</i> is the person laughing, that it has been laughing this entire time—delighted by its victims' pain and terror. It ignores the weapons menacing it as easily as a man ignores the frenzied barbs of ants. Then it swipes. And just like that, all of the men and women in your community are dead. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>No...</span></div></div>' "everyondead">><</link>></center>

You see the blood flying through the air in gruesome arcs and flashes of red; the horrible folding in of bodies, as if they've been turned into bags of wet sand. Your father, lying at the creature's feet. But your brain skips past these things, refuses to understand them; all it can cling to is the fact that the monster is now approaching you. People scatter before it like flies. You feel a tremor down your arm. You look, and it's Zori plucking at your sleeve. <<print $zorishe.toUpperFirst()>>'s saying something. "What?" Only the ghost of the word leaves your mouth. "<i>Use your magic</i>!" Zori shouts again. <<print $zoriher.toUpperFirst()>> eyes are wild, but $zorishe hasn't left your side. "It's coming!" <<include "demonattaq">>

<<set $resist to 0>><<include "demonattack">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("butimnottrained")>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"But I\'m not trained..." </div>' 'butimnottrained'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("butitsnotlegal")>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"But it\'s not legal..." </div>' 'butitsnotlegal'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("butimnotstrongenough")>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"But I\'m not strong enough..." </div>' 'butimnotstrongenough'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $resist >= 2>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"All right. I\'ll try." </div>' 'trydreamertry'>><</link>><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

<<set $resist +=1>>That's right, it will still be a few years until you're able to get any kind of grasp on practiced magic. Who knows what could happen if you try and use that power—untapped and unrefined for years—now? The results could be disastrous… "You think training matters?" Zori screams. "You're the only one who can do <i>anything</i>!" <<include "demonattack">>

<<set $resist +=1>>"YOU'RE THINKING ABOUT THE AUTARCHY RIGHT NOW? WE'RE GOING TO DIE! Worry about the Inquisitors later, blast it!" <<include "demonattack">>

<<set $resist +=1>>"Did you see what that thing did to their weapons?!" Zori asks now, hysterical. "Please, $firstname! You're the strongest out of all of us! You have to do it! Save us!" <<include "demonattack">>

You take a breath and reach for your magic—that headachy golden glow behind your eyes, that singing in your blood that is always there, ready to thrum to life if you reach out and pluck it. But then you look up, and you see that the monster is no more than a few yards away from you. Dozens of bodies are littered, having fallen as silently as leaves, at its feet. From here you can see the liquid black of its eyes, its slight smile, the outline of its organs writhing through its translucent skin, as if it's a pupa newly crawled from a chrysalis. Your innards heave. And you find with a kind of frozen terror that when you grope for your magic, the thread of it slips out of your fingers. You're too afraid; you can't concentrate. There's nothing there. "$firstname!" Zori screams. "<i>Do something!</i>" The demon is almost upon you. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Cast a spell! </div>' 'theworldsworstnightmare'>><</link>></div><</nobr>>

Nothing happens. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Hurry! Cast a spell! </div>' 'theworldsworstnightmare1'>><</link>></div><</nobr>>

Nothing happens. The demon draws closer. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Throw your power at the demon!</div>' 'theworldsworstnightmare2'>><</link>></div><</nobr>>

But you can't. Your magic has seized up within you as you stand paralyzed with fear. Like ice floes in a stream, you think numbly. Stone over cooling magma. The demon has picked up Zori. You shut your eyes. <i>Am I in a dream?</i> you wonder as Zori begins to scream. This frozen helplessness, this out-of-body feeling—why does it feel like this is some terrible nightmare? And how can you get it to end? Zori's blood-curdling scream has been cut off. And now, without opening your eyes, you know that the demon is reaching for you. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "darklaughter">><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="demonic">"Child,"</span><<else>>"Child,"<</if>> it laughs. Your heart jerks at the sound of its blood-slick voice. <<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="demonic">"This is for Tapyt. Long live the Nightwalker."</span><<else>>"This is for Tapyt. Long live the Nightwalker.<</if>><</nobr>> Are you ready to die? <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Yes...</div>' "readytodie">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">No...</div>' "notreadytodie">><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

The monster took your father from you, you think, trying to still the battering of your desperate heart. Zori. Your home, your family and friends. What else is there to live for? The demon sees your resignation in your face and laughs. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "thefirstword">><</link>></center>

<i>I'm not ready to die!</i> There must be something you can do! The demon sees the futile determination on your face and laughs. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "thefirstword">><</link>></center>

Then, in the moment before your final destruction, you feel it. Not your magic, but something else, something new—a shining rope of power somewhere down deep inside you, limited and yet infinitely, cosmically vast. You reach for it, and without knowing why, you speak some unutterable word: the sounds of it glow on your tongue, fill up your body with some unspeakable warmth, as if you've taken a deep draught of sunlight and lightning. You feel as if not you but the entire world has spoken, every part of it at once. The moons turn black, or else too bright for human eyes. But there is no wind, no tremors in the earth—and already the word is gone from your mind. <i>Go away!</i> you think. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "thegoneawayword">><<set $godspeaker -=1>><</link>></center>

And when you open your eyes again, the demon is no more, as if it had never existed. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "thegoneawayworld">><</link>></center>

And yet neither is your home. The buildings, the bodies, Zori, your father. The survivors and the fallen. All of it—along with the Endarkened—is gone. Erased. Utterly obliterated from existence. They never reappear again. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "backtothepresent1">><</link>></center>

In your dreams you try to find them again—the figures of those you've lost, or banished, or destroyed. At night you feel around again for your home, groping aimlessly, trying to find the unknowable word that can bring it all back. But there is nothing. The whole thing has winked out of existence, like a popped soap bubble. And when you open your eyes in the morning, sometimes you're afraid you won't know what you'll see next: gods, demons, or the judging faces of the dead. All you know is that you've never dared to return to the place where you grew up, though stories have reached your ears that the area remains utterly empty, as if no living creature had ever stepped foot there. No one can explain what happened, not the locals or academics or even the Inquisitors who came to investigate the town's disappearance. Even when you gained yourself a magical education a few years later, you found no answers there. You can only theorize that your magic, untrained, wrought catastrophic results beyond your reckoning. You've heard claims that, for some Mages, adolescence brings a time when their magical powers suddenly explode in force and potency, sometimes wildly beyond their own control: it was why Mage students were sent off to school at the age of twelve, before the Castigation. Perhaps your raw, seething magic teleported your home away, to Hael or to some other world the Mages used to know how to walk. Or perhaps you burned it all into the ether. <i>Maybe the Autarchy is right to fear magic, after all</i>, you think, though somehow this answer doesn't quite satisfy you. And you can't figure out exactly what word it was you instinctively spoke. You can't remember how it sounded, exactly, and no trace of it lies in any spellbook or scroll you've ever seen. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "strangewordsstrangehappenings">><</link>></center>

You've only discovered one thing: your story of that night's demon attack was only one of many. Different Children of Light across the Continent have confirmed your suspicions many times over. That day—your <<print $nameday.toUpperFirst()>> Day—was a day of sudden Endarkened appearances all over the land. A day of rampages, and destruction, and violence, and death. You don't know if Ebert is right, if it's the Autarch's failing health that allowed them to return, or if it's the people's weakening belief in the One-God, as the Church claims. Or if it's something else entirely. You only know this. The day that marked your coming of age was the day that the demons finally came back to Blest. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "onehellofamorning">><</link>></center>

In the morning, you curse Ebert and his nosing into your past as you sit and wait for Prihine's bathwater to heat. Of course his prying drudged up painful memories, dark visions you've been pushing away for years. But you didn't expect to still feel the rawness of the wounds well into the next day. Ultimately, how have you dealt with the aftermath of your first Endarkened encounter? <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">I\'ve sworn my vengeance on the Endarkened and all their kind. If I can put an end to any one I see—or at least prevent my fate from happening to someone else—I\'ll be happy. </div>' 'achievevengeance'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">I\'ve resolved to leave the past in the past. There\'s nothing I can do about it now, and I need to live my own life. I\'ve moved on. </div>' 'achieveclosure'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">I don\'t feel anything at all. There\'s only numbness. But I get by. </div>' 'achieveindifference'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

That's right: you've dedicated much of your life and your subsequent magical training to fighting off Endarkened whenever you can. You haven't spotted one on this trip, thankfully, but you hear that Haven has no end to its share of demon problems. You don't know if that prospect fills you with dread or excitement. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cainefriend">><</link>></center>

That's right: you've decided to put the past behind you and invent a new life for yourself, one that's preferably as far away from the demons as you can go. Too bad you've heard that Haven has had no end to its own share of Endarkened problems… But at least the city can give you the chance to be who you want, unburdened by the weight of the past. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cainefriend">><</link>></center>

You're aware that how you're feeling is probably not healthy, but it's not as if you can talk to anybody about what's happened—the immense burden that you've been forced to carry. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cainefriend">><</link>></center>

Caine sees the dark look on your face and brings by some expensive deer jerky from Courtshore—no doubt smuggled from Ebert's wagon. <<nobr>> <<if $staycaine is true>> You look around quickly to make sure no one's looking, then accept the jerky with a smile. In some ways you realize that Caine reminds you of Zori: there's that same boldness, the quick curiosity. You're glad you didn't do as Ebert demanded. <br><br> Caine seems to read your mind. "Ebert told me to stay away from you," he says, jutting his chin out rebelliously. "But I don't see any harm in it. And I'm old enough to choose for myself—even if he does tan my hide for it afterward." <br><br> "You may lose your apprenticeship," you point out. <br><br> Caine rolls his eyes. "I can get another one easy enough," he says. "There's lots of work around—'specially in Haven." <<elseif $avoidcaine is true>> But, remembering Ebert's words from the night before, you wave the boy off. Caine looks at you and says, "What's the matter? You don't like jerky?" <br><br> "No," you answer gruffly, not knowing whether to look away or maintain eye contact with the boy. "And anyway I don't have the money to pay for it." <br><br> Caine looks surprised. It's clear that Ebert hasn't said anything to him yet. "You don't have to pay for it, $firstname. We're friends." <br><br> You shake your head. "No, Caine," you answer firmly. "As a matter of fact, we're not." <br><br> Caine looks at you as if you've just murdered his pet cat. Conveniently, Prihine calls for you from her tent at that moment, demanding a washcloth. You hurry off, leaving the boy to stand there and look wonderingly after you. <br><br> <i>It's for the best</i>, you tell yourself as you walk away. And once you get to Haven and manage to disappear into the city, Caine will be able to forget all about you. <<set $cainestatus to "He's hurt that you decided to avoid him.">> <</if>><</nobr>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "onwardtohaven">><</link>></center>

<<notify_map "The City of Haven">><<set $havenmap to true>>As it turns out, you end up reaching Haven the very next day. From afar, the capital is just how you imagined it: the bone-white spires, the tiered districts, the pale cobblestone streets tracing it all like glittering veins. It looks like a crown, you think. Resting atop its pedestal, gazing down at all the Continent. No wonder the first Autarch chose it as his seat of power, after the Castigation. But as you draw closer, you see evidence of the disrepair Caine once told you about. In fact, the famous white stone of Haven's buildings has turned grimy from two centuries of rapid urban development and industry. Sections of the city's walls and tiers have been damaged in the Uprisings, giving the whole thing the appearance of a half-eaten, disheveled cake. And worse still, sad-eyed Diminished workers wander the streets everywhere, their heads bent from either exhaustion or the oppressive atmosphere of the city. Or both. You swallow and try not to let doubt grip you. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "havenstiers">><<set $codex +=1>><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<notify_codex_culture "Essential Traveler's Guide to Haven">> <<if $staycaine is true>> The city is divided into five sections, Prihine informs you in a rare moment of conversation as you wait to be let in through the main gates. The lowest and largest section is where the Diminished and the exceptionally poor live: Ashtown, occasionally referred to by the natives as Witchtown. <br><br> Then there's Smoketown, the district of foundries, factories, and warehouses. Then the Market Quarter, where the traders, merchants, and shopkeepers gather to sell their wares. Then Whitestone—a largely residential district meant only for the wealthy or aristocratic. And finally, at the very top of the city, the Sun Court itself, housing the Autarch's palatial estate, Haven's treasury, and the government houses of the Consortium. <br><br> "Of course, <i>I'll</i> be living in Whitestone," Prihine tells you smugly. "My fiance's home has no less than twelve fireplaces…" <br><br> She doesn't ask you where <i>you</i> plan on living. She most likely knows the answer anyway. <<elseif $avoidcaine is true>> The city is divided into five sections, Prihine informs you in a rare moment of conversation as you wait to be let in through the main gates. As you've approached Haven, you've found that she's become a little friendlier towards you, more apt to stay by your side. More tolerable, at least. You suspect that, as her unknown future approaches, Prihine's latched onto the last bit of familiarity she has left: you. <br><br> "The lowest and largest section is where the Diminished and poor live," she tells you, tossing her curls over her shoulder. "That's called Ashtown. I hear the uncouth sometimes called it Witchtown. Daddy says I must never go there." <br><br> "Especially not without me to protect you," you joke, but Prihine doesn't laugh. <br><br> "Then there's Smoketown, the district of foundries, factories, and warehouses," she continues, pointing to each requisite tier. "Then the Market Quarter, where the traders, merchants, and shopkeepers gather to sell their wares. Then Whitestone—a residential district for the wealthy and aristocratic. That's where <i>I'll</i> be living." <br><br> "And at the very top of the city?" you ask, craning your neck to stare up at the smallest tier. <br><br> Prihine gives you a look of half-derision. "That's where the Sun Court is, of course! Where the Autarch lives, and where the Consortium conducts its government affairs. My fiancé works there every day." <br><br> You turn to look at her through the window of her little carriage. "How do you know all of this? I thought you'd never been to Haven before." <br><br> For a moment, she blushes, then covers her face with her fan. "This is my new home, of course," she says, trying for haughtiness. "I've spent the entirety of this dreadful trek learning about my future. The better question is, why haven't <i>you?</i>" <br><br> "I already know where I'll be living," you tell her. Around the other side of her carriage, you catch Caine's eye, and he looks hurriedly away. From here you can already hear the frightful din of "Witchtown"—your new home.<<set $prihinestatus to "She seems to cling to you as a last remnant of her old life.">><</if>><</nobr>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "enterthecity">><<if $avoidcaine is true>><<set $prihineromanceflag +=1>><</if>><</link>></center>

<<if $avoidcaine is true>><<include "enterhavenavoidcaine">><<elseif $staycaine is true>><<include "enterhavenstaycaine">><</if>>

At the city gates, the guards let Prihine past, but not you. "I'm her guard," you tell them as you watch Prihine's carriage disappear through the enormous whitestone arch. "I've accompanied her here from Brunen." "That's not our concern," one of the guards says. He's young, clean-shaven, and he wears the shining mail armor of the city's Vice Guard— but the mail is ill-fitting and too big for him. He must be a person of low rank. His partner, an older woman, turns away and continues conducting travelers into Haven. "I don't understand," you begin, wondering frantically if there's some permit or protocol you've missed. The young guard eyes you up and down: you notice that his eyes linger in uncomfortable places. "You've been reported," he says in a terse voice. "For slandering the Autarch and her Sun Court. The punishment for that is imprisonment, but because it happened outside of Haven, I'll let it slide and settle for disbarment instead. We don't want any malcontents here." <i>Ebert</i>. That <span class="entrylink"><span class="entrylink-tooltip">Jackass.</span><<link "muti" "Glossary">><</link>></span> of a meat merchant must have said something as he went through. And Caine already went through with him. <<include "cityguard">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("guardebertwaslying")>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I haven\'t slandered the Autarch. The man who told you that was lying!" </div>' 'guardebertwaslying'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"This is all a big misunderstanding. I\'m sure we could work something out..." </div>' 'bribeguardattempt'>><</link>> <<if not hasVisited("threatenguardattempt")>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Let me through, or else." </div>' 'threatenguardattempt'>><</link>><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

The guard folds his arms. "And why would he do that?" <<include "persuasionguard">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("guardebertgrudge")>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"He has a grudge against me. He doesn\'t like Diminished, that\'s all." </div>' 'guardebertgrudge'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("guardebertresentment")>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"He resents me for being in the service of a rich Norm lady, while he\'s a lowly meat merchant." </div>' 'guardebertresentment'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("guardlastattempt")>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Please... you have to let me in." </div>' 'guardlastattempt'>><</link>><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>> <<if $charisma >= 10>> The guard pauses for a moment, looking you up and down once more. Then he says, "That's truly the only reason?" <br><br> You nod vigorously. "Yes. He's hated me ever since I arrived to the caravan. Hated that his own apprentice took a liking to me. <br><br> The guard frowns and is clearly torn between what Ebert told him and your persuasive words. After a moment he waves his hand impatiently and says, "Fine. The word of one merchant isn't much in the way of evidence. But keep to yourself in Haven, mind you, and don't stir up any trouble. Else I'll come down on you with all the force of the law." <br><br> You nod, forcing yourself to smile. "Of course. Thank you." <br><br> The guard waves you through, and you pass through the entryway of Haven with a cool shudder of relief. <br><br> <<include "enterhaven">> <<else>> The guard shakes his head. "Lots of people don't like Diminished," he says. "Doesn't mean they go around making false reports." <<include "persuasionguard">><</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $cunning >= 11>> The guard taps his fingers on the hilt of his scimitar. "That right?" <br><br> "Oh, yes. Can't you see a man like that, giving way to his petty whims and jealousies?" <br><br> "Suppose so," the guard agrees reluctantly. He frowns to himself, then shakes his head. "All right. I suppose the word of one merchant isn't much in the way of evidence, anyway. But keep to yourself in Haven, and don't stir up any trouble. Else I'll come after you myself, and punish you to the full extent of the law." <br><br> You nod. "Of course," you tell him smoothly. "I wouldn't dream of it." <br><br> The guard waves you through, and you pass through the entryway of Haven with a cool shudder of relief. <br><br> <<include "enterhaven">> <<else>> The guard rolls his eyes. "Right," he says. "I'm sure a prosperous merchant is jealous of a Diminished." <<include "persuasionguard">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $compassionate >= 53>> The guard opens his mouth to reject your plea, but then he stops—he must see something in your face, because his look softens a little. Then he shakes his head and says, "Fine. But only because you're in the employ of a lady, and because you seem too spineless to speak ill of our great Autarchy." He jerks a thumb over his shoulder. "Go inside. Don't let me catch talk of you again." <br><br> You bow several times and enter the gateway to Haven with relief, thanking the impatient guard profusely. <br><br> <<include "enterhaven">> <<else>> The guard laughs, but the sound has no mirth in it. "Try again," he says, his eyes unsmiling despite his smirk. "Begging will get you nowhere in Haven." <<include "cityguard">> <</if>><</nobr>>

The guard's eyes narrow. "And what exactly do you mean by that?" <<include "guardseduce">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="money-item">Bribe him with a few coins.</div>' 'guardbribecoin'>><<setgold -6>><</link>> <<if $kissguard is false>><<link '<div class="flirt-item">Kiss him. </div>' 'kissguard'>><<set $kissguard to true>><<if $charisma >= 12>><<setcharisma +1>><</if>><</link>><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

<<set $bribeguard to true>>You flash the guard a few coins, and pray to whoever's listening that the stories you've heard of corruption in Haven are true. There's a long, heart-stopping pause. Then the guard swipes the coins out of your hands and says flatly, "Go." "Thank you." You pass through the entryway of Haven with a lighter coinpurse, but a heart even lighter with the knowledge that you've narrowly escaped exile... or a new home in the Autarch's dungeons. <<include "enterhaven">>

<<nobr>><<if $charisma >=12>><<set $kissguardsuccess to true>> For a moment the guard's lips don't move as he stiffens with surprise. Then, abruptly, he grabs your shoulder and pulls you away. <br><br> "One-God curse you," he breathes. But his pupils are dilated, and he's breathing just a little quickly. "What's gotten into you?" <br><br> "You can meet me inside," you tell him, speaking in a rushed whisper. You glance at his partner, the older woman, to see if she's noticed anything. "At some inn. We can meet tonight." <br><br> For a moment the young man just stares at you, as if you've gone mad. Then he says flatly, "The Golden Blossom, in the Floating District in Smoketown. Midnight." <br><br> He gives you a hard shove to send you on your way. When you look back, he turns quickly away from you, the back of his neck flushed and red. <br><br> You hurry through the entryway of Haven, resolving to never go to the Golden Blossom and praying you'll never run into this particular guard again. <br><br> <<include "enterhaven">> <<else>> For a moment the guard's lips don't move as he stiffens in surprise. Then, abruptly, he shoves you away from him. When you look up into his face, you see that his eyes are hard and flinty, and two spots of red have appeared high on his cheeks. <br><br> "That," the man says, breathing just a little quickly, "was a mistake." <br><br> "I'm sorry," you say in a rush, aware that your presumption could get you thrown in the Autarch's dungeons—or onto the executioner's block. "I thought—" <br><br> "You thought wrong," the Vice Guard says flatly. But he doesn't seem to know what to do with you. You have to act fast while he's off his guard. <<include "cityguard">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $courage >= 10 and $compassionate <=43>> The Vice Guard's eyes widen slightly in surprise; you're sure he's not used to being obliquely threatened, especially not by a Diminished stranger. But the sheer force of your will does its work, as it always does: you know the guard sees something in your face and decides that what might happen isn't worth it. He looks away and mumbles, "Go. But don't you stir up any trouble. Else I'll come after you myself." <br><br> <i>I'd like to see you try</i>, you think as you stride confidently past him and through the entryway of Haven. You can tell by the guard's shamed look that he's thinking the same thing. <br><br> <<include "enterhaven">> <<else>> The Vice Guard laughs shortly. "Or else what?" <br><br> You think better of your plan to threaten a servant of the Autarch. "Er," you mutter. "Never mind." <<include "cityguard">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "enteredthecityyay">><</link>></center>

<<if $bribeguard is true>><<notify_gold "-6 Gold">><</if>>After that, there's a long afternoon of making it through other checkpoints (none of which stop you again, thank the Sun), showing your permits for this or that, and unloading and unpacking the wagons. You manage to catch up to Prihine, who shrieks at you for causing such a delay, and you spot Caine unsaddling one of the horses, but Ebert the meat merchant is nowhere in sight. You wonder if you'll have to deal with him again, or if he's gone for good. To your surprise, you find that most of the Kinley Traders' stock has actually been purchased for Prihine's wedding, which explains why the merchants were so willing to put up with her as you traveled. Most of them have even been recruited to help set up on the day of the ceremony, meaning the 'van won't disperse just yet. That night, you stay with them at a little inn in the Market Quarter while Prihine rushes off to have dinner with her precious Minister. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "diningaloneuntilcroelle">><</link>></center>

On this night, you dine alone. Caine goes to bed early—still with his master nowhere in sight—and none of the other 'van guards attempt to talk to you. You sit in the inn's barroom and partake in a simple meal of cold potatoes and mutton stew: a regional dish from up North. <<include "meetcroelle">>

There's a long afternoon of making it through the city gates, showing your permit for this or that, unloading and unpacking the wagons. No time to get a lay of the land or even cast more than a cursory look at your surroundings. To your surprise, you find that most of the Kinley Traders' stock has actually been purchased for use in Prihine's wedding, which explains why the merchants were so willing to put up with her during your travels. Most of them have even been recruited to help set up on the day of the ceremony, meaning the 'van won't disperse just yet. That night, you stay with them at a little inn in the Market Quarter. To your surprise, Prihine also insists on staying with you, instead of rushing off to dine at her precious Minister's mansion. When you express surprise, she sniffs and informs you that tradition dictates a groom must not see his bride before the official wedding ceremony. Somehow you doubt that this is true. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "prihineconvo1">><</link>></center>

That night, over a simple dinner of seafood chowder and silky rice from the Southern Crescent, you finally work up the nerve to ask a question that's been bothering you since the start of your journey. "Your father hired me," you tell the aristocrat, "but couldn't he have accompanied us to Haven? Isn't he going to see you get married?" Prihine doesn't look up from picking at her food. Her mouth tightens a little, but otherwise her expression doesn't change. "He has many daughters," is all she says. "That means much of his time is spent managing their dowries and carting them off to form blood alliances all over the Continent. He doesn't have the time to attend each of their little weddings." You nod, and the two of you say nothing more. For the first time you wonder if Prihine has a reason for lashing out beyond simply being spoiled. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "prihineleaves">><</link>></center>

After a while, Prihine retires to her room, while you stay in the barroom and finish your dessert. <<include "meetcroelle">>

At some point during your meal, you glance over to find a man drinking at the next table, watching you. "Do you believe in free will?" he asks you, apropos of nothing. You notice that he's dressed all in black, and wears a very wide-brimmed black hat, pulled low over his eyes. It doesn't hide his blood-red hair—or the little smirk on his face.<<nobr>><<set _excuse to false>><</nobr>><<include "croellemeeting">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if _excuse is false>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"Excuse me?" </div>' 'exsqueezemecroelle'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("whynotfreewill")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"Why wouldn\'t I believe in free will?" </div>' 'whynotfreewill'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I do believe in free will." </div>' 'croellefreewill'>><<set $croelle += 10>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I don\'t believe in free will." </div>' 'croellenofreewill'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You don\'t say anything. You\'re not in the mood to exchange philosophies with a stranger. </div>' 'croellenotalk'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"Free will," the red-haired man repeats, as if you've been talking all along and you've simply lost the thread of the conversation. "Do you believe that it exists?" <<include "croellemeeting">>

<<set _excuse to true>>The red-haired man waves a gloved hand. "You know," he says, his tone airy but his voice coarse and rough as gravel. "There's the matter of the One-God—or gods, if you're daring enough to admit it. Most believe that Xe has a plan for each of us. Some fate or destiny in mind when we're created. If that's the case, doesn't that mean that every action we take is predetermined, absolute—out-of-our-control? Are we not simply pawns on a chessboard, being moved by some cosmic entity's machinations and whims rather than our own volition?" He sits back and takes a drink, gazing at you from over the rim of his cup. Although his slight smile remains, his stare is intense and unblinking. "Then there's the matter of magic," he says lightly, smacking his lips, which gives you a start. He must have noticed your eyes. "In a world where anyone could secretly spellbind another—can we ever truly know if what we're doing is of our own will, or someone else's?" <<include "croellemeeting">>

"Hmm," is all the man says. He looks at you assessingly. "You're new to Haven. Do you believe you came here of your own free will—or did circumstances and the Autarchy force you to? Would you have come if things were different?" "That doesn't mean choice doesn't exist," you begin. But the man changes the subject before you can say anything more. <<include "shepherdsmention">>

"Hmm," is all the man says. He looks at you assessingly. "No, I suppose you wouldn't. After all, you're new to Haven—and I'll bet you didn't come here because you wanted to. You were forced to come here: by history, by circumstance, by the Autarchy. If things were different, you wouldn't have come. You wouldn't have <i>had</i> to come." He looks away before you can say anything more. <<include "shepherdsmention">>

"Hmm," the man says at your silence. "And is your not-saying anything truly a choice—or is it one that I forced you to make by speaking to you?" You press your lips together, not to be goaded. The man seems to lose interest in the topic and moves on. <<include "shepherdsmention">>

"I hope you haven't come here to join the Shepherds," he says idly. You look at him. "The Shepherds?" The blood-haired man flicks a square of paper onto your table: a glance tells you that it's some sort of <span class="entrylink">[[newspaper clipping.|newspapershepherds]]</span> "A Diminished police force," the red-haired man drawls, clucking his tongue. You can't really tell if he's interested or disgusted by the concept. "Meant to deal with the Endarkened and other supernatural crimes—the ones simple Norm soldiers and the Vice Guard can't handle. We've had lots of Diminished come through here, hoping to join them." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"And what happened to those Diminished?" </div>' 'whathappenedtothosediminished'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Why would anyone want to join them?" </div>' 'whywouldanyonewanttojointhem'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Are they paid?"</div>' 'aretheypaidcroelle'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<set _readnewspaper1 to true>><div class="headline"> <header>The Haven Herald</header> <div class="newspapersubhead">15 CAMOA, YEAR 21 OF THE ERA OF THE LAMPS - 1 Danar Per Copy </div> </div> <div class="headline"><span class="headline hl5">The Golden One Declares Formation of Shepherds</span><p><span class="headline hl4">in LOCAL NEWS</span></p></div> Today, we celebrate the founding day of our Autarchy. It has been two hundred years since the first Golden One ascended to power and established our glorious empire. On this day, the Golden One made a rare appearance before the people of Haven. She commemorated our people’s intrepidness, courage, and ingenuity, citing the common folk as the true pillars of the Autarchy. She also addressed concerns over the increasing Endarkened presence in Haven and its outlying lands. The Autarch gave assurances that her Court Mages are working hard to understand the slow reappearance of demons throughout the Continent. She asks that the good people of Haven continue to have faith in the might of the Autarchy and to stand firm in the face of the enemies of our One-God. To that end, the Golden One has declared the formation of a special police force, dedicated to fighting the Endarkened and protecting Haven’s citizenry. To the shock of many, the Golden One has acknowledged that this elite coalition—separate from the city’s Vice Guard and the Autarch's Army of the Sun—will be composed of Diminished fighters loyal to the Autarchy. Although citizens showed consternation over the presence of a non-Norm fighting force in the city, the Autarch acknowledged that Elves, Mages, Ket, and even Hunters are the best-equipped soldiers to fight Endarkened monsters. She assures the populace that every step will be taken to ensure that these Diminished will <i>only</i> act in the best interests of the empire. They will serve as the front line against the demonic threat as well as any other crimes committed by traitorous Diminished; this will also prevent the needless deaths of our Norm soldiers, who are vital and needed on other fronts. The Autarch then introduced the enigmatic new commander of this Diminished army, a group the Golden One has deemed “the shepherds” who will protect her flock from the wolves who stalk our walls from the shadows… <div class="citation"><i>continued on page 2</i></div>

"Most are dead, I expect," the man answers matter-of-factly. "It's a brutal line of work—most are not equipped to survive it. Others are turned away point-blank. They'll only have the most skilled fighters." "And how does one go about joining them in the first place?" you ask. The man wags his finger at you. For the first time you notice that his eyes are a strange, ocher color. "Now I see that you didn't know a thing about them," he says. "I shouldn't have brought it up." <<include "croellestandjojo">>

"Seems to me they're just asking to be put on the front line," you say. "Why would anyone want to be fodder for the demons?" The man raises his eyebrows. For the first time you notice that his eyes are a strange, ocher color. "They are well-rewarded for their efforts, of course," he says. "But more than that, there is more than one Diminished who finds the prospect of being able to use their powers… appealing. Imagine finally being able to freely use your magic without fear of reprimand from the Autarchy. More than that—with the Autarchy's blessing, to slay demons. There are some who entertain fantasies of becoming heroes in the people's eyes." He shakes his head ruefully. "All fantasies, of course, but appealing fantasies nonetheless. I see now that I shouldn't have said anything; you clearly hadn't heard of any of it before I brought it up." <<include "croellestandjojo">>

"Decently well, and straight from the Autarch's coffers," the man says lazily. "Though I suspect the idea of being able to use their powers freely, and with the government's blessing, is more appealing than even a steady salary of gold." He shakes his head. For the first time you notice that his eyes are a strange, ocher color. "I see now that you didn't know a thing about them until I brought it up. Forget what I said." <<include "croellestandjojo">>

He stands, and you can't help but ask the stranger who he is, wondering why he even bothered to strike up a conversation with you. He flicks you a golden-eyed look over his shoulder. "My name is Croelle," is all he says. The name makes you think of dark figures of legend, blackbirds that served as omens and warnings for the gods. "And what is it that you do, Croelle?" you ask him. <i>Why are you so interested in preventing me from joining the Shepherds?</i> Croelle smiles, and somehow the expression seems vicious to you. "I'm a watcher," he tells you. "An interested party has asked me to watch the Shepherds and how they do. But now I think I'll have to watch out for you, as well. Something tells me the tasks will be one and the same." Before you can say anything more, the red-haired man gives you a nod, flips a coin into his empty cup, and walks away. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Strange...</span></div></div>' "discussingtheshepherdz">><</link>></center>

The next few days are too busy to allow you to think any more on the mysterious stranger. You do hear more about the Shepherds, in the conversations of passerby and even from some of the merchants who traveled with you to Haven. The topic seems to be one that inspires much interest and anxiety in the city: apparently no one seems very happy that there are Diminished fighters running around, using their powers unchecked, but there is also a reluctant acknowledgement that the once-nightly demonic attacks have gone down. Daily arguments rock the barroom over whether the Shepherds are a brilliant way of dealing with the Endarkened, or if they pose even more of a threat than the demons themselves. <<if $staycaine is true>><<include "cainediscussshepherds">><<elseif $avoidcaine is true>><<include "prihinediscussshepherds">><</if>>

"I hear their leader is a Ket assassin," Caine tells you brightly over a game of cards. "They call him Kingslayer. Apparently he's one of the greatest swordsmen on the Continent and he's killed a bunch of people." "Why did the Autarch make him the leader?" you ask, wondering why such a fearsome man—purportedly a killer—would agree to a role in the spotlight. <i>If</i> Caine's rumor is true—which it probably isn't. Caine shrugs. "I dunno. All I know is loads of people are afraid he's gonna go around killing <i>them</i> if he catches them talking ill about the Shepherds." He looks excitedly around at you. "Don't you think it seems an adventure? Joining them, using your powers for good, killing demons?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Yes. In fact, you\'re planning on finding out how to join the Shepherds after this job with Prihine is done. </div>' 'thinkingaboutjoiningup'>><<setcourage +1>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">No. You\'ve had enough run-ins with demons in your life; you don\'t need any more. </div>' 'nowayshepherdsjose'>><<setcourage -1>><<setcunning +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You don\'t know yet. You need to find out more about them first. </div>' 'needtofindoutmoreabouttheshepherds'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Caine's eyes light up. "Right? I wish I were old enough. And had powers." He looks at you sidelong. "I'll be staying on in Haven anyway, to see how things turn out. Got myself a job at a woolery in Smoketown." "What about Ebert?" you ask him. Caine shrugs. "He buggered off somewhere. Least I got paid before he went." A pity. You think to yourself that you'd like to have had one last conversation with Ebert—perhaps in an intimidating new Shepherd uniform. The thought makes you laugh. <<include "prihinewedding">>

All this talk of assassins and demons has only made you uneasy; and it's not as if the Shepherds are <i>popular</i>, judging by all the talk about them. Why would you want to risk your life for people who wouldn't even be grateful for it? Caine frowns a little. "I suppose that makes sense." He looks at you sidelong. "But I hope they'll protect <i>me</i>. I'll be staying on in Haven anyway, to see how things turns out. Got myself a job at a woolery." "What about Ebert?" you ask him. Caine shrugs. "He buggered off somewhere. Least I got paid before he went." A pity. You think to yourself that you'd have liked to have had one last chat with Ebert before embarking on your next venture. <<include "prihinewedding">>

There's too much gossip going around, all half-truths and misinformation—like this assassin business, no doubt. Caine nods and says, "Right, that makes sense. Scope out the situation first before you make any decisions." He looks at you sidelong. "I've decided to stay on in Haven, by the way, to see how things turn out. Got myself a job at a woolery." "What about Ebert?" you ask him. Caine shrugs. "He buggered off somewhere. Least I got paid before he went." A pity. You think to yourself that you'd have liked to had one last chat with Ebert—or maybe sent a tip to this assassin Shepherd about him. The thought makes you laugh. <<include "prihinewedding">>

"I think they sound simply dreadful," Prihine remarks over a game of cards. It's your third day in Haven, and she still hasn't gone to visit her Minister. "Imagine—a group of Diminished scoundrels who can do whatever they want with their powers!" Sometimes you think Prihine has forgotten that <i>you're</i> Diminished. You think she's taken to thinking of you as a harmless watchdog. You throw down the skull card, wondering if she's in the mood to play seriously or if she wants you to let her win. "I don't think they can do just <i>anything</i>," you tell her. "Using their powers has to be related to Endarkened-slaying or dealing with supernatural threats. That's what I've heard." "Yes, for <i>now</i>," Prihine insists. "But what happens when they start overstepping their boundaries? Who's to hold them accountable?" "The Autarch, surely." "But by then they'll have grown too strong." She throws down a heart card triumphantly. "They'll have gotten used to using their powers—and I expect they'll use them on anyone who tries to bring them to heel. If we're not careful, we'll have another Uprising on our hands." And everyone knows how <i>those</i> go. The last Uprising, staged by the Hunters in Ashtown twenty years ago, resulted in the near-extinction of their race—though not before the city was torn apart by legendary riots and street battles. The survivors have since been banished back to the Reach or scattered across the land as refugees. You don't like the idea of being caught in the city during a similar conflict. But because this is one of the few opportunities you have to talk seriously to Prihine, you say, "Diminished civilians or Shepherds, they're all the same as you, you know. They're not actively seeking to abuse their powers or hurt innocents." Prihine sniffs at you. "Your ignorance is showing," she tells you. "Were you aware that their leader is a fearsome assassin? Known for murdering countless Norm figureheads? They call him Kingslayer!" "If that's true, why would the Autarch make him a Shepherd?" you ask her calmly. "Let alone their commander?" She throws down another card: the crown card, which means she wins. "Perhaps it is an excuse to cull," she says. "Round up the most dangerous criminals in the Autarchy and toss them to the Endarkened, using duty as an excuse. When they die, the other Diminished can have no reason to complain, as it wasn't the Autarchy that executed them, but the Children of Darkness." Her nonchalance at such a gruesome thought annoys you. "Maybe you can ask your husband about it," you suggest. "Since he's a member of the Consortium, and all." But Prihine pretends to lose interest in the topic after that. For the rest of the game you speak of Shepherds and husbands no more. <<include "prihinewedding">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "prihinewedding1">><<set $clothes to "your finest wedding attire... which admittedly isn't much">><</link>></center>

The night of Prihine's wedding ceremony arrives. It's an evening ceremony, against tradition, which gives you a clue as to the Minister's intentions for young Lady Naveen. Normally weddings are held during the day, under the watchful eye of the One-God and Xer sun, to show that the marriage is founded on truth and righteousness. Ceremonies held at night—under the coy gaze of Mitna and her daughter-moon—are said to encourage fertility in the marital bed. Predictably, Prihine starts off the evening in a storm of tears. "It's n-n-not fair!" she gasps in great gulping sobs to her handmaids as they fuss over her running makeup. "If I'd have known their s-s-stupid customs, I wouldn't have done it! I won't do that to my hair!" No one tells you the cause of Prihine's distress until you discreetly take up your position at the back of the church: an extravagant building with rich, gold-painted furnishings dedicated to the One-God. You see that the golden pews are lined with a considerable number of ostentatious Norm politicians and nobles, most of whose bloodlines and estates you already know, thanks to Prihine's bragging. To your surprise, almost everyone in the audience is completely bald. A nearby 'van guard, who has been requisitioned as backup security, notices your expression. "It's a new fashion at the Sun Court," she murmurs. "The older ones don't like it when their hair turns white. Too close to the Hunters, who all have white hair, and too much of a reminder of their old age, when the Elves don't age at all. So they shave it all off. And of course the younger ones have to follow suit." You think back to Prihine's tears and almost laugh. "So the groom is also bald? And the bride will have to be, too?" "She will if she wants to get anywhere in Court," the 'van guard replies with a smirk. Poor Prihine, you think. Now she learns the price of power. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "prihinewedding2">><</link>></center>

Eventually the maids get Prihine all cleaned up and calmed down, and she glides down the aisle with a broad, painted smile. The ceremony proceeds without a hitch: there is much droning on about the One-God and vows, many slow and repetitive gestures between the bride and her stiff-backed groom. You find yourself almost drowsing in the sweltering warmth of the room, which is crammed with what seems like a thousand candles. Then there's the sound of a gong, and suddenly everyone is clapping politely. Just like that, Prihine is married, and you are released from your duties. Of course this is the moment the demon bursts into the room. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "prihinewedding3">><</link>></center>

<<if settings.music is true>><<audio ":playing" fadeout>><<audio "battle" volume 0.1 time 85 loop play>><</if>>You never see it coming. One moment everyone is rising from the pews, shuffling forward to offer the newly-married couple their congratulations; the next, something is bursting through the church's stained glass window with a terrific crash and raining colored shards down on the screaming guests. It's a Revenant—the same type of demon that attacked your home on your thirteenth birthday, so long ago. Of course this is a different one, but everything about its shape is familiar to you: the hulking, apelike form, the long and sinister talons. Immediately the Revenant seizes the closest guest—an unfortunate noblewoman—and twists her head off like it's uncorking a bottle of wine. Pandemonium breaks out. What do you do? <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">I turn to run. I\'m no longer duty-bound to protect Prihine now that she\'s married!</div>' 'runfromdemon1'>><<setloyal -5>><<setcourage -10>><<setcunning +5>><<setorder -5>><<setcompassionate -5>><<set $runfromdemon to true, $bothdead to true>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">I draw my weapon and run towards the demon. I have to do something! </div>' 'chargetowardsdemon1'>><<setloyal +5>><<setcourage +10>><<setcompassionate +5>><<setorder +5>><<set $runtowardsdemon to true, $blade +=3, $trouble +=3, $tallys +=3, $shery +=3>><<if $possess_sword>><<set $health -=25>><<setsword +2>><<setstrength +1>><<elseif $possess_dagger>><<set $health -=20>><<setdagger +2>><<setstrength +1>><<elseif $possess_bow>><<set $health -=10>><<setbow +2>><<setstrength +1>><<elseif $possess_gun>><<set $health -=20>><<setstrength +1>><<setgun +2>><</if>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

With only a backwards glance, you stampede out of the church doors along with the rest of the guests… …Right into the waiting arms of another demon. You backpedal just as a middle-aged man is snatched up and flung into a wall across the street, his body whumping dully like a sack of flour hitting the ground. <i>Two</i> demons? One waited outside while the other went in—like dogs corralling panicking sheep, you think with dismay. Shit. As if sensing your thoughts, the second demon's head swivels around to stare at you. Sensing your fear, it grins, showing many rows of pointed teeth. <i>Shit.</i> <<include "runfromdemon2">>

<<nobr>><<if $possess_sword>> You draw your sword and launch yourself straight at the demon. You may not be able to use your magic against it, but in the years since your first Endarkened confrontation, you've devoted yourself to mastering the sword. Now's the time to see if your skills will be of any use. <br><br> The Revenant is too preoccupied to see you coming. You stab at it—and your blade sinks into its flesh with a clean, satisfying sound, like a knife slicing through a lemon. Immediately, foul black ichor spills over your hands, burning you. <br><br> The Revenant roars, seeming more angry than hurt, but you don't give it time to retaliate. You slash again, once, twice, thrice, swinging wildly with your sword until the demon's leg gives out and you're hacking away at its neck, trying to sever its head from its terrible, convulsing body. <<elseif $possess_dagger>> You draw your dagger and launch yourself straight at the demon. You may not be able to use your magic against it, but in the years since your first Endarkened confrontation, you've devoted yourself to mastering the dagger. Now's the time to see if your skills will be of any use. <br><br> The Revenant is too preoccupied to see you coming. You stab at it—and your blade sinks into its flesh with a clean, satisfying sound, like a knife slicing through a lemon. Immediately, foul black ichor spills over your hands, burning you. <br><br> The Revenant roars, seeming more angry than hurt, and you have to stab it over and over to do any real damage. But finally your blade meets its strange, cavernous heart, and the demon crumples half-on-top of you, expelling another gout of steaming black blood with its dying breath. <<elseif $possess_bow>> You draw your bow and let loose a quick flurry of arrows at the demon. You may not be able to use your magic against it, but in the years since your first Endarkened confrontation, you've devoted yourself to mastering the bow and arrow. Now's the time to see if your skills will be of any use. <br><br> The Revenant is too preoccupied to see you coming. All of your arrows meet their mark—but the Revenant is so big that it merely shakes itself like an annoyed horse, shaking off a swarm of flies. You have to come closer, so that the force of your arrows make a greater impact—bringing you within range of the demon. It swipes; you dodge; a talon barely catches your leg as you roll away. <br><br> Then you let fly another arrow, and this one meets the Endarkened's eye. It screams as a fount of black ichor gushes from its head; then it staggers, wavers, and topples to the ground with a tremendous crash. You've killed it. <<elseif $possess_gun>> You draw your pistol and fire off a round at the demon. You may not be able to use your magic against it, but in the years since your first Endarkened confrontation, you've devoted yourself to mastering the gun. Now's the time to see if your skills will be of any use. <br><br> The Revenant is too preoccupied to see you coming at first, and your bullet meets its mark—but the Revenant is so big that it doesn't seem to do anything except make it angry. It turns and lets loose a roar, and you have just enough time to reload before it barrels down on top of you and swipes at your ribs. You barely manage to avoid being gutted, though you feel its claws catch and snag at your side—and as you roll out the way, you fire again, praying for a lucky shot. <br><br> It works. Your bullet slams into the demon's eye, erupting out of the back of its head. The shot rings throughout the church and rattles around in your skull, as if the bullet had ricocheted into <i>your</i> head. But when the ringing stops, you look, and the demon is dead. <</if>><</nobr>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "caineorprihine">><</link>></center>

A scream behind you draws your attention. You turn, and you see a <i>second</i> demon standing in the entryway of the church. It gives you a terrible shock—was this one waiting outside, while the other one came in to herd everyone out? Like sheepdogs, you think in dismay. Corralling panicking sheep. Your heart hurtles into your mouth when you see exactly who it is this second Revenant is menacing. Prihine, in her blood-spattered wedding dress, was in the process of fleeing when the demon came in: now she cowers before it, wailing. And beside her, holding a little penny-knife, is—Caine. His face is set and white; he looks like a ragdoll before the demon's monstrous form. You do some lightning-fast calculations. They're too far away for you to throw yourself into the fray in time. Your weapon is of no use. If you cast a protective spell from here, you'll be able to shield one of them from the Revenant's coming attack—but only one. And magic is still illegal… <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You don\'t care about that. You\'ll save Caine! </div>' 'savecaine'>><<setorder -5>><<set $prihinestatus to "She was killed during the attack at her wedding.", $cainestatus to "He worships you for saving his life at the church.", $cainesafe to true, $prihinedead to true>><<achieve "achieve_hapless">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You don\'t care about that. You\'ll save Prihine! </div>' 'saveprihine'>><<setorder +5>><<set $cainedead to true, $prihinesafe to true, $resources +=1, $shepherdgold +=500, $cainestatus to "He was killed during the attack at Prihine's wedding.", $prihinestatus to "She's indebted to you for saving her life over Caine's.">><<achieve "achieve_hapless">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You don\'t want to go to prison. You watch helplessly as both die. </div>' 'bothdie'>><<setorder -10>><<set $bothdead to true, $cantbecommander +=1, $prihinestatus to "She was killed during the attack at her wedding.", $cainestatus to "He was killed during the attack at Prihine's wedding.", $didntusemagicatthechurch to true>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You won\'t use magic at all. You\'ll use that other thing, that power from your <<c nameday>> Day, to save both of them... </div>' 'wordofpowerconfirm'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Yes! You remember that Word, that shining rope of power inside you that you touched so long ago. It could help you—could help both of them—but even as you reach for it, you're aware that the rope is limited. The Words, whatever they are, are finite. You have the intuitive feeling that you only have so many before they run out. Will you still use one to save Caine and Prihine? <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">On second thought, I shouldn\'t. </div>' 'secondthoughtswop'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Yes, I\'ll use a Word to save them both! </div>' 'bothlive'>><<set $bothsafe to true, $prihinestatus to "She's indebted to you for saving her life.", $cainestatus to "He worships you for saving his life at the church.", $godspeaker -=1, $reputation +=10>><<setorder +10>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

On second thought, you don't think it's the right time to use one of those Words—the last time yielded disastrous results, anyway. What will you do instead? <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">I\'ll use magic to save Caine! </div>' 'savecaine'>><<setorder -5>><<set $prihinestatus to "She was killed during the attack at her wedding.", $cainestatus to "He worships you for saving his life at the church.", $cainesafe to true, $prihinedead to true>><<achieve "achieve_hapless">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">I\'ll use magic to save Prihine! </div>' 'saveprihine'>><<setorder +5>><<set $cainedead to true, $prihinesafe to true, $resources +=1, $shepherdgold +=500, $cainestatus to "He was killed during the attack at Prihine's wedding.", $prihinestatus to "She's indebted to you for saving her life over Caine's.">><<achieve "achieve_hapless">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">I don\'t want to go to prison. I watch helplessly as both die. </div>' 'bothdie'>><<setorder -10>><<set $bothdead to true, $cantbecommander +=1, $prihinestatus to "She was killed during the attack at her wedding.", $cainestatus to "He was killed during the attack at Prihine's wedding.", $didntusemagicatthechurch to true>><</link>><</nobr>>

<<notify_achievement "Not the Glittering Weapon" "Put yourself in harm\'s way to save another.">> You raise your hand and fling up a shield in front of Caine just as the Revenant's claws come crashing down. Prihine is cut down instantly, shreds of her golden wedding dress flying through the air like gleaming leaves—but Caine, to his obvious astonishment, is unharmed. The demon is obviously confused by this turn of events. It swipes down again, and another time, but each time its talons crash against your magical barrier and bounce back. Finally it looks up and notices you. "RUN!" you shout at Caine, and he bobs his head and scrambles out of the church, his outline still glowing with your protection spell. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "demonslayer">><<set $health -=20>><</link>></center>

<<notify_achievement "Not the Glittering Weapon" "Put yourself in harm\'s way to save another.">>You raise your hand and fling up a shield in front of Prihine just as the Revenant's claws come crashing down. Caine is cut down instantly, his small body being tossed aside like a paper doll's—but Prihine, to her obvious astonishment, is unharmed. The demon is obviously confused by this turn of events. It swipes down again, and another time, but each time its talons crash against your magical barrier and bounce back. Finally it looks up and notices you. "RUN!" you shout at Prihine. She looks back at you with huge eyes, then nods and scrambles out of the church, the front of her wedding gown flecked with blood, her outline still glowing with your protection spell. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "demonslayer">><<set $health -=20>><</link>></center>

Caine is killed instantly, his small body hurled with tremendous violence against the far wall of the church. The demon saves Prihine for last, and it seems that her scream goes on for hours. You can only watch numbly, hands slack at your sides, and you don't even have the heart to curse the Autarchy, to curse the Castigation, to curse your own powerlessness in this world that wants to kill you and those you care about. Finally the demon looks up from its feeding and notices you. You tense: you were too distracted by what was going on to make your escape! <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "demonslayer">><<set $health -=20>><</link>></center>

You close your eyes and reach for that coiled braid of power inside you, that thing that is neither magic nor prayer. The world around you seems to go utterly still, and into that stillness you speak a word: a word that you don't know, having never heard or spoken it, but one that makes you think of mountains falling, ocean waves crashing, the slow erosion of time. Time stops. The demon freezes in place, the progression of its body through the air halted so that it looms over Caine and Prihine like a great pouncing gargoyle. Both Caine and Prihine whirl to look back at you, their eyes wide with relief—or terror. "Go," you gasp at them. The effort of speaking your Word of Power has left you dizzy and breathless—and you don't know how long the effect will last, if it's like a spell that will wear off or if you've permanently changed some function of the world itself. Caine starts to run towards you, but you shake your head and, after hesitating, he nods and drags Prihine past the frozen demon and outside. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "bothlivepart2">><</link>></center>

You move to follow, but you find that you can hardly move your body. Maybe you've become frozen with the Endarkened, too? It wouldn't surprise you, considering how little control you seem to have over this power. As you sway, trying to make it just one more step, a group of people run back through the entrance. They stare at you, and you stare at them. There are three of them, two men and a woman, dressed in dark clothing with silver livery and pauldrons: the symbol of a rampant silver hound shines on their chests. You can't tell if the image is supposed to be a wolf or a sheepdog. <i>Shepherds</i>, you think. "You're too late," you try to tell them, slurring a little. "I've already killed the demons." But the effort of speaking more takes the last of the energy out of you, and, closing your eyes, you fall and finally let darkness take you. <<include "shepherds">>

The demon charges you, letting loose a bellowing roar that vibrates through your heels and sends a blaze of fear up your spine. It crosses the church floor too quickly for you to use your weapon; in a moment the Revenant has knocked aside the church pews and swept you up in its claws. You gasp; the pressure on your ribs is crushing, and you're sure being squeezed out of your normal shape. You've dropped your weapon somewhere. The demon's fangs gleam and drip with venom; you can smell its hot, fetid breath, the smell of carrion and corpses left to rot on a battlefield or a sickhouse. What do you do? <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">I fling the most destructive magical spell I can muster into the demon\'s face. </div>' 'demonmagicchurch'>><<setmagic +2>><<setreputation +10>><<set $health -=30>><<set $didntusemagicatthechurch to false>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">I slam my fist into the demon\'s eye. </div>' 'demonpunchchurch'>><<set $health -= 40, $reputation +=10>><<setstrength +2>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

You call up a storm of magic and shout it into the demon's face. Instantly, it blazes up into a magical conflagration; brilliant white flame consumes it, and, shrieking, the demon hurls you to the ground. Your skull cracks against the hard stone of the church floor. In a pain-blurred daze, you watch as the Endarkened rears back, flailing, hurling its massive body against the walls in an attempt to put the flames out. It takes several minutes, but eventually the magical fire reaches its heart. The demon makes a popping sound like bacon sizzling in a hot pan, gurgles one last time, then expires. You shut your eyes. After a few moments you're aware of the sounds of boots on the church floor. When you open your eyes again, you see that three people have entered the church, two men and one woman, dressed in dark clothing and silver livery. The silver emblem of a rampant hound shines on their chests—a wolf or a sheepdog. <i>Shepherds</i>, you think. Their three blurred forms hurry over to check on you, and you have just enough time to croak, "You're too late. I killed the demons," before the effort of speaking makes you too dizzy. You finally close your eyes and let darkness take you. <<include "shepherds">>

You ram your fist into the demon's eye and gouge; immediately a fount of hot black blood spurts, ink-like, over your hand, singeing your skin. Roaring in pain, the Endarkened drops you, and you manage to roll out of the way just before it topples onto the ground, writhing. Grimly you stand up and seize a nearby plank of wood. You crack the demon over the head with it, twice to stun it, and then drive the spear into its other eye, penetrating its brain. Twitching, the Endarkened collapses back and dies. You fall, too, closing your eyes and breathing hard, feeling the demon's cooling blood congealing all down the front of your clothes. After a few moments you're aware of the sounds of boots on the church floor. When you open your eyes again, you see that three people have entered the church, two men and one woman, all dressed in dark clothing and silver livery. The silver emblem of a rampant hound shines on their chests—a wolf or a sheepdog. <i>Shepherds</i>, you think. Their three blurred forms hurry over to check on you, and you have just enough time to croak, "You're too late. I killed the demons," before the effort of speaking makes you too dizzy. You finally close your eyes and let darkness take you. <<include "shepherds">>

You have only moments to react. As the Revenant begins to lope towards you, what do you do?<<include "runawaychoice">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Use my magic on it. I have no choice! </div>' 'usemagicrundemon'>><<setmagic +2>><<setreputation +5>><</link>> <<if not hasVisited("useweaponrundemon")>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Use my weapon on it. I have no choice! </div>' 'useweaponrundemon'>><<setstrength +2>><<set $health -=10>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("wordofpowerrunconfirm")>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Use a Word of Power against it, like the one I used on my <<c nameday>> Day. I have no choice! </div>' 'wordofpowerrunconfirm'>><</link>><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

You blast a gout of flame straight into the demon's face. <<nobr>><<if $magic >= 12>><<set $health -=30>> Instantly, it blazes up into a magical conflagration; brilliant white flame consumes it, and, shrieking, the demon topples to the ground, crashing down on top of you before you can roll out of the way. <br><br> You cry out and have to wriggle free of the demon's burning body: luckily, the flames don't harm you, being your own, but you still hear something in your body dislocate from the force of the demon falling onto you. Foul black ichor spurts over your body, acid-like—<i>that</i> burns, and it's all you can do not to scream. <br><br> But you finally manage to wrestle yourself free of the Endarkened, and moments later, it makes a popping sound like bacon sizzling in a hot pan, gurgles one last time, then expires. <br><br> You collapse backwards in relief and shut your eyes. Your body throbs all over from the pain, but at least you're alive. That's all you manage to think as the world blurs around you. <br><br> Then you hear the sounds of approaching footsteps and look up to find three people standing over you: two men and one woman, all dressed in dark clothing with silver livery. The symbol of a rampant silver hound shines on their chests—some sort of wolf or sheepdog. <br><br> <i>Shepherds</i>, you think. <br><br> One of them speaks to you. "Are you all right?" <br><br> Trying to answer causes your vision to spin again. Before you know it, your head is falling backwards and your eyes are closing against your will. Finally, you sink back and allow the darkness to take you. <br><br> <<include "shepherds">> <<else>><<set $health -=60>> …But it's not enough: the weak fireball dissipates as it strikes the Revenant in the face. Undeterred, it descends on you, snatching you up in its lethal claws. <br><br> You cry out—the pressure on your ribs drives all of the breath from your lungs—and struggle in vain as the demon cackles with glee and squeezes you tighter. At some point you feel some of its venom-tipped claws piercing your ribcage, sending a violet-white pain blooming up all along your right side. Your vision blurs. Once more you attempt to cast something—a stunning spell, a spear of ice—but you can't even tell if they connect. <br><br> <i>Is this the end?</i> you wonder, staring into the Endarkened's dripping maw. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "almostkilledforrunning">><</link>></center><</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>>It isn't. There's a cracking sound, which you think for a fatal moment is your ribs, before the demon quite abruptly drops you. You're barely able to roll out of its way before it topples to the ground on top of you. <br><br> For a moment you think this is another ploy it's using, some cruel trick meant to give you a bit of hope before it ends you—but when you lift your head, you see that the demon's face has turned into a smoking crater. Someone has put a lucky bullet through the back of its skull. <br><br> The world blurs around you. You hear the sounds of approaching footsteps and look up to find three people standing over you: two men and one woman, all dressed in dark clothing with silver livery. The symbol of a rampant silver hound shines on their chests—some sort of wolf or sheepdog. <br><br> <i>Shepherds</i>, you think. <br><br> One of them speaks to you. "Are you all right?" <br><br> Trying to answer causes your vision to spin again. Before you know it, your head is falling backwards and your eyes are closing against your will. Finally, you sink back and allow the darkness to take you. <br><br> <<include "shepherds">><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $possess_bow or $possess_gun>> You fumble your weapon free and manage to fire off a shot at the demon. The shot hits its mark, but glances off the demon's thickened hide: it charges you, only more enraged, bellowing as its blood-streaked body bears down on yours. <br><br> It strikes you once, sending you tumbling to the ground: you don't even have time to process the lancing pain that rips through you with the strike. <br><br> Now the Revenant stands over you, poised to make the death-blow. <<include "runawaychoice">> <<elseif $possess_sword or $possess_dagger>> But you only have time to fumble your weapon free before the Revenant descends on you, knocking you to the ground with one mighty blow. The force of the impact sends your weapon skittering out of your hands. <br><br> Now it stands over you, poised to make the death-blow. <<include "runawaychoice">> <</if>><</nobr>>

You remember that Word, that shining rope of power inside you that you touched so long ago. It could help you now—but even as you reach for it, you're aware that the rope is limited. The Words, whatever they are, are finite. You have the intuitive feeling that you only have so many before they run out. Do you still want to use one of those Words? <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">On second thought, I shouldn\'t. </div>' 'secondthoughtswoprun'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Yes, I should! </div>' 'runawaygodspeaker'>><<set $godspeaker -=1>><<set $reputation +=10>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

If you really think about it, you don't think it's the right time to use one of those Words—and the last time yielded disastrous results, anyway. What will you do instead? <<include "runawaychoice">>

You close your eyes and reach for that coiled braid of power inside you, that thing that is neither magic nor prayer. The world around you seems to go utterly still, and into that stillness you speak a word: a word which you don't know, having never heard or spoken it, but which makes you think of mountains falling, ocean waves crashing, the slow erosion of time. Time stops. The demon freezes in place, the progression of its body through the air halted so that it looms over everyone in the street like a great pouncing gargoyle. People in the street whirl to look back at you, their eyes wide with relief—or terror. "Go," you gasp at them. The effort of speaking your Word of Power has left you dizzy and breathless—and you don't know how long the effect will last, if it's like a spell that will wear off or if you've permanently changed some function of the world itself. After a moment of hesitation, everyone scatters and bolts—ushered by the sounds of the first demon still commencing with its feast inside the church. You take one quick look at the frozen monstrosity you've created before turning and following suit. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "runningfromyourdemons">><</link>></center>

…But you don't make it very far. The world spins and blurs around you, and your body is shedding damp coats of sweat, as if you have a fever. It isn't long until you sag against a wall somewhere—an alley or a side-street—and think to yourself that you might just die in the gutter, after all. Then you hear the sounds of approaching boots. You look up, and through your blurred vision you see three people hurrying towards you, two men and one woman. They're all dressed in dark clothing with silver livery; a silver rampant hound shines on their chests, a wolf or a sheepdog. <i>Shepherds</i>, you think. "The church," you croak at them, clutching the wall for support. "Demons… I already killed one. There's still another." "You two go ahead," the woman tells the other men. They nod and run down the alley, back the way you came; you catch a glimpse of a dark, cruel Ket sword in the hands of one, a Norm rifle in the hands of another. They vanish around the corner, and the tall, tawny-skinned woman says to you: "Did you say you <i>killed</i> one of the demons already?" <i>Well,</i> you think, <i>I did <b>something</b> to it, anyway.</i> But you can't answer her—the effort of running and speaking has taken all of the energy out of you. Instead, you sway and sink to the ground. Closing your eyes, you fall and let darkness take you. <<include "shepherds">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "shepherdshome">><<set $health to 100, $clothes to "ripped and tattered wedding attire">><<audio ":playing" fadeoverto 3 0>><</link>></center>

When you swim your way back to consciousness again, you open your eyes to find yourself in a darkened room. You lift your head as much as you can manage, but you only make out the dim shapes of a few cots beside you, some shelves, and the soft glow of a mage-lamp in the corner. Some kind of infirmary, you think. But not the crowded sickhouses you've glimpsed in the Market Quarter or Ashtown. Beneath the lamp you spy a petite, bespectacled young Norm woman with long, pale hair reading in a chair. As if sensing your gaze, she looks up suddenly, and her blue eyes widen at the sight of you sitting up. "Oh!" she exclaims. "You're awake. How do you feel?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I feel like death itself." </div>' 'ifeellikedeathitself'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I feel well enough, considering the circumstances." </div>' 'sherrymeetapprove'>><<set $shery += 2>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Remain silent. </div>' 'sherrymeetdisapprove'>><<set $shery -= 3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Although the majority of your injuries have been healed, your head feels like it's stuffed with cotton, and you're frighteningly weak—like a baby lamb struggling to stand. The woman flushes slightly. "I'm sorry to hear that," she says. Her voice is so quiet that you strain to hear it, like the tapping of mouse feet. "We had our Healer look at you, but I'm afraid we're quite short-handed at the moment…" <<include "meetingshery">>

The woman smiles; the expression is surprisingly warm on her wan, large-eyed face. "I'm glad to hear it," she answers. Her voice is so soft that you strain to hear it, like the rustling of silk. "We had our Healer look at you, but we're quite short-handed at the moment, so we didn't know how effective the treatment would be." <<include "meetingshery">>

The woman flushes deeply at your silence, then coughs uncomfortably. "Well," she says. "I'm glad you're awake, at least. We're quite short-handed at the moment, so if you hadn't woken up soon, I wouldn't have known what to do… " <<include "meetingshery">>

She rises to her feet suddenly. "I'll go fetch the others. They've been wanting to talk to you." Then she stops again and turns, as if doubting herself. "I'm Shery Acquell, by the way. I work for the Order of the Shepherds—I realize now that I didn't say that." She hesitates. "Did you… need anything?" <<include "sheryintro">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("whereamishery")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Where am I, Shery?" </div>' 'whereamishery'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("whoaretheseothershery")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Who are these \'others\'?" </div>' 'whoaretheseothershery'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("whyamihereshery")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Why am I here?" </div>' 'whyamihereshery'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("whoareyoutotheseshepherdsshery")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Who are you to the Shepherds?" </div>' 'whoareyoutotheseshepherdsshery'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Let her fetch the others.</div>' 'shepherdsintro'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Shery blinks. "You're at the Shepherds' compound," she tells you. "In Ashtown. The others brought you back here after your encounter with the Revenants." <<include "sheryintro">>

She smiles a little. "Our leaders. I'll let them introduce themselves." <<include "sheryintro">>

Shery shakes her head. "From my understanding," she says, "the others have a proposition for you. But it's not my place to speak of it." She seems to catch what you're thinking and hurriedly adds, "But don't worry. You're not in any danger of the sort. Or trouble." As if she's aware she's botched it, she looks away again with a blush. <<include "sheryintro">>

Shery bobs a short bow, her pale hair sweeping over her face in a curtain. "I'm the Shepherds' quartermaster," she answers. "I look after their administrative affairs, their supply and equipment needs, and the housing and feeding of their recruits." "Does babysitting injured civilians also fall under your roster of duties?" you ask with a raised eyebrow. "Well… I'll do anything that they need me to do, really," the quartermaster replies. Again there's that shy wisp of a smile. "And they asked me to get them as soon as you were awake." <<include "sheryintro">>

With another short curtsy, Shery turns and leaves the room. You only have a few moments to sit up properly and adjust your disheveled appearance before the others file back into the room. For a moment, they take a good long look at you, giving you the chance to give a good long look back. The first of three is a tall, dark-haired man. He has a rangy, sinewy build and the stoic features of a Ket; a dark, cruel sword hangs at his side. In the gloom of the infirmary room, his eyes and hair are like the stuff of night: his features are fine-boned, reserved, with an aristocratic nose and a serious mouth. His gaze flicks over you with the surgical precision of a knife. You sense immediately that this is a man who is always alert and on-guard—someone who can assess the core of you at a glance, but who usually pretends not to out of a stiff and curt sense of courtesy. The other man with him is the dark-haired man's total opposite. This man is broader, stockier, a strongly-built Norm with shorn hair the color of a lion's coat and a square, blunt jaw. His stark white gloves stand out against his tan coloring—locals of the region call it "summer-skinned"—and his face is open and expressive, showing a look of undisguised curiosity. You note with a slight chill that his bright blue eyes are ringed with a corona of gold. Not the <i>iladrin</i>, you think, but something else. The last of the three is a young woman, an Elf of indiscriminate age. Unlike Shery, this woman is slim and ropy with muscle, full of easy grace and confidence. Her skin is nut-brown and freckled, her chin-length hair much the same color; her eyes are a startling green and she wears an expression of placid frankness, as if nothing can shake her composure. If she didn't move, you think she might simply become a tree. "Good," the woman says briskly. "It seems like you're recovered." She and the golden-haired man draw up stools to sit by your cot; the dark-haired man remains standing by the door. "Blade Bronwyn," he says when you look at him. "Commander of the Shepherds. This is my second-in-command, Trouble Alder, and my third, Tallys Ironwood." <<nobr>><<if $staycaine>> <br> <i>Ah</i>, you think. <i>So this is Caine's infamous assassin-commander. He certainly looks the part.</i> Blade looks at you as if he knows exactly what you're thinking. You school your face into a neutral expression.<</if>><</nobr>> <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Pleased to meet you." </div>' 'pleasedtomeetyoushep'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"What do you want from me?" </div>' 'whatdoyouwantfrommeshep'>><<setloyal -1>><<setcharisma -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Are those your real names?"</div>' 'arethoseyourrealnames'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

You introduce yourself, and the four of you all exchange nods like you've gathered in a tea shop for an afternoon meeting. You notice that Tallys and Trouble both seem a little apprehensive; Blade alone seems unfazed by the unusual circumstances. <<include "doyouknowhowwefoundyou">>

Blade's lips quirk in a slight smile. "Straight to business," he says. "I approve." <<include "doyouknowhowwefoundyou">>

Trouble barks out a real laugh; even Tallys' lips quirk up slightly, though it does nothing to lighten her expression. Blade is the only one who doesn't smile. "Blade is my real name," he answers with complete seriousness. "I come from a family that named their sons after weapons, hoping they would become great soldiers for their city-state. Tallys, as far as I know, has given her real name as well. Trouble is a nickname." "A pretty obvious one, once you get to know me," Trouble chimes in easily, grinning at you and winking. <<include "doyouknowhowwefoundyou">>

Tallys spears you with a clear-eyed look. "Do you remember how we found you?" "Of course," you answer. "The attack on the church—the Endarkened." <<nobr>><<if $runfromdemon>>You feel a sudden pang: did Prihine or Caine survive the assault? You ran out before you could check. But the Shepherds probably wouldn't know if they were alive or not…<</if>><</nobr>> Trouble nods. "We brought you here because we wanted to ask you about that," he says. Then he corrects himself with a rueful look. "Well, we brought you here because you needed medical attention, and we'd have lost track of you if you went to the Healer's Quarter along with all of the other Diminished who got hurt." "Why did you take just me?" you ask him blankly. Trouble exchanges a look with Blade and Tallys. "You were the only one who put up a fight against the Revenant," he answers. "You're a trained Mage, aren't you?" When a wary silence descends over the room, Tallys cuts in, "Don't worry. You won't get in trouble. We're not the Autarch's Inquisitors. We're only curious because—it's rare for us to come across anyone who can handle a demon like that." You still remain silent for a long time. "I might have had some training," you say finally. The others all exchange significant glances. "How much training?" Tallys asks. "Enough to handle a demon," you tell her. For now, you decide to keep your mouth shut about that "other" thing—that mysterious secondary power that you seem to have. You yourself don't understand it quite yet, so there doesn't seem much point in bringing it up until you do. Finally Blade meets your eye. "Would you consider joining us?" "We're short-handed," Tallys butts in at your expression. She leans forward on her chair. "The Autarch… convened us very suddenly, and we haven't had the time to put together a proper fighting force. Too many Diminished who join up aren't properly trained, or their powers are too weak after centuries of non-use to be of….well, any use." "Being told not to use their powers since birth will do that," Trouble comments wryly. He sends you a knowing gold-ringed look. "Doesn't seem like it's a problem for you, though." "We need more time to train them," Tallys continues, blunt. "And in the meantime, the Endarkened problem continues to rise. We're in danger of being overwhelmed." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"What\'s in it for me?" </div>' 'whatsinitformeshep'>><<set $whatsinitforme to true>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Why me?" </div>' 'whymeshep'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"This is too sudden." </div>' 'thisistoosuddenshep'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"You'll be paid well, for one thing," Trouble says. "One hundred deucalions a month. That's better than any Diminished I know." He glances at you hastily. "No offense." "You'll be provided your own room, training, weapons, and equipment," Blade adds. "Fed about as well as Shery can manage, three meals a day." <<nobr>> <<if $gold > 1000>> <br><br> "But I have money…" you begin, looking pointedly at the bulging coin purse resting safely on your bedside table. Trouble finally seems to notice it and makes an unflattering choking sound. <</if>> <</nobr>> "And you'll get the opportunity to use your gift," Tallys continues. "You can use your magic freely, and with the Autarch's blessing. None of the authorities can touch or threaten you. You can fight and kill Endarkened. You can help protect Haven and make the world a better place." "And put my life at risk," you add wryly. "Can't leave that part out." Tallys' face shutters. "You are always at risk," she says, "when you're Diminished." <<include "werealizeyoucouldhatetheautarchy">>

"Well, we've never seen anyone stand up to an Endarkened like that," Trouble says, laughing. "You clearly know what you're doing. Which is more than most of us can say. We couldn't just pass someone like you up." "How do you know you can trust me?" you ask. "From what I hear, the Shepherds have a lot of enemies." Trouble lifts his eyebrows. "Yeah, and what are <i>you</i> gonna do that'd be worse than any of them? We've got raving-mad demons on one side, some very unhappy Norm civilians watching our every move on the other. Plenty of political enemies who aren't happy the Autarch is giving us a chance. You're going to, what, spy on us for them? We don't have anything to hide." "I could be incompetent," you point out. "Or a coward, or insane…" Tallys spreads her hands in a kind of verbal shrug. "<i>Servori</i>," she says. "I suppose we'll have to find out." <<include "werealizeyoucouldhatetheautarchy">>

The three of them all exchange looks again. "We realize that," Tallys says gently. "It's a lot to spring on you when you're fresh out of a fight with two Revenants. But our…forwardness should tell you the urgency of our situation." "Desperation, more like," Trouble drawls. "Hope that doesn't turn you off." "Is the death rate… high among the Shepherds?" you find yourself asking awkwardly. "Not at the moment," Blade deadpans. "That's because the three of us have been handling the bulk of the dangerous work. But that will have to change." <<include "werealizeyoucouldhatetheautarchy">>

"We realize that you could hate the Autarchy," Trouble adds. "Or the demons. Or both. Hael, I wouldn't blame you. The idea of coming close to them—either of them—could leave a bad taste in your mouth. But as of right now it's the only solution we could come up with that keeps innocents from dying. We've been doing a fairly good job of it." "Even if it doesn't make us very popular with the general populace," Tallys says with a wrinkle of her nose, to indicate exactly what she thinks of popularity. <<include "shepherdsAGREE">>

Trouble turns his strange eyes to you. "So what do you say?" he asks. "Are you interested?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("needtoknowmoreshep")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"I need to know more before I make a decision..." </div>' 'needtoknowmoreshep'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Yes, I\'m interested." </div>' 'shepherdsjoinfinal'>><<set $shepherdsjoin to true, $blade += 3, $trouble +=3, $tallys += 3, $shery += 3>><<setloyal +5>><<setorder +2>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">No, thanks...</div>' 'shepherdsconscript'>><<setorder -2>><<setloyal -5>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Blade cocks his head, folding his arms as he leans languidly against the doorway. "What do you want to know?" he asks. "Ask away."<<include "needtoknowmoreshep2">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $whatsinitforme is false>><<if not hasVisited("whatsthepaylike")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"What\'s the pay like?" </div>' 'whatsthepaylike'>><</link>><</if>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("howdidyouformthisgroupagain")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"How did you form this group, again?" </div>' 'howdidyouformthisgroupagain'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("whatexactlydoesbeingashepherdentail")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"What exactly does being a Shepherd entail?"</div>' 'whatexactlydoesbeingashepherdentail'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("howcloselyareyouworkingwiththeautarchy")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"How closely are you working with the Autarchy?"</div>' 'howcloselyareyouworkingwiththeautarchy'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("whatabouttheinquisitorsshep")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"What about the Inquisitors?"</div>' 'whatabouttheinquisitorsshep'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("howdoyouknowyouwontbekilledshep") and $cunning >= 20 or $intelligence >=20>><<link '<div class="question-item">"How do you know you won\'t all be killed when this is all over?"</div>' 'howdoyouknowyouwontbekilledshep'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You don\'t have any more questions.</div>' 'shepherdsAGREE'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"One hundred deucalions a month," Trouble answers, folding his arms. "Plus free room, board, food, and equipment. A pretty cushy deal, if you ask me." "In exchange for risking my life," you comment. "But also the reward of doing good in the world, protecting innocents," Tallys butts in. "As well as the freedom to use your gods-given powers without reprimand. We're the only Diminished in the Continent who are authorized to employ our magic, arma, or what have you without being branded criminals for doing it; we have the full authority and sanctity of any law enforcement or peacekeeping force out there. And our officers are given the resources to learn and train in magic and combat, to grow stronger, to access knowledge that might be kept from the public eye. That's more than anything else you'll find in the Autarchy." <<include "needtoknowmoreshep2">>

The three of them all exchange glances with each other. "The Autarch convened us," Blade finally says, slowly. "She decided that it was time to do something about this demon encroachment, and felt that the fighters who stood the best chance in repelling them would be people like us." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"And that\'s it? Just like that, she trusted you to use your powers for good?" </div>' 'andjustlikethatshep'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Maybe it\'s a sign that relations between us and the Autarchy are repairing." </div>' 'maybethingsaregettingbettershep'>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Blade lifts a shoulder in a cool shrug. "It's the Autarchy. We're surrounded at all times by observers who scrutinize our every move. If we put one toe out of line, she'll know about it." Hmm. <<include "needtoknowmoreshep2">>

"Yeah, maybe," Trouble agrees. Tallys laughs bitterly, but Blade only inclines his head and says nothing more. <<include "needtoknowmoreshep2">>

"We deal with the supernatural threats that the Vice Guard and Inquisitors can't handle," Blade answers calmly. "That means mostly Endarkened, but we also handle rogue Diminished who are too strong for the normal militia. Depending on the case, we either kill them or subdue them for capture. And we rescue and protect the populace from danger, just like any police force." "We also investigate and solve crimes of the arcane slant," Tallys adds sagely. "Mage serial killers, disappearances caused by Endarkened, cursed artifacts or hexes…" "But again, only if it smells supernatural," Trouble reiterates, folding his arms. "The city has other forces to deal with other stuff." <<include "shepherdinfomoreeee">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("doyouhavehuntersinshepherds")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"If you focus on killing Endarkened, does that mean you have Hunters in your group?" </div>' 'doyouhavehuntersinshepherds'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("buildingcaughtfireshep")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"So if a building caught fire, that wouldn\'t be something we worried about?" </div>' 'buildingcaughtfireshep'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("kitteninatree")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"What about a kitten in a tree? Can I use my magic to get it down?" </div>' 'kitteninatree'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("whatifsomeonewasmurderedshep")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"What if someone up the street gets murdered? Or jumped in a mugging? Do we just stand by?" </div>' 'whatifsomeonewasmurderedshep'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Ask another question. </div>' 'needtoknowmoreshep2'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

As far as you knew, Hunters were banished from the city after their last Uprising, but their powers are uniquely geared towards hunting and destroying demons. As if he reads your thoughts, Blade grimaces ever-so-slightly, though he doesn't move from his position by the door. "Not yet," he answers. "Our group currently only numbers twenty-five." "We're working on it," Trouble supplies instead. <<include "shepherdinfomoreeee">>

"Not unless we suspected an Endarkened of setting the fire," Tallys answers. "Or a Mage," Trouble murmurs. <<include "shepherdinfomoreeee">>

"Not unless you thought the kitten was really an Imp," Blade answers, lips twitching. "Or a Tainted, or an evil Wild-Mage, or a Changeling on a rampage. As for your magic—I'd advise against using it casually. If the Inquisitors catch you using your powers for something that's not strictly demon or arcane-related, it won't look good. For any of us." <<include "shepherdinfomoreeee">>

Blade makes a very subtle face. "If it's murder, we turn it over to the Vice Guard—unless we find evidence that there's Endarkened or some other force involved. Then it's in our jurisdiction. As for mugging…" "It depends on you as a person," Trouble says, fidgeting. "We're not going to prohibit you from stepping in, being a good person. Hael, we'll even back you up. But you gotta be careful. Don't burn the muggers to an astral crisp. Else the citizens are going to start thinking you're a loose cannon, as bad as what we're fighting." "Just be prudent," Tallys murmurs. <<include "shepherdinfomoreeee">>

At this, Tallys grimaces. "I asked the very same question," she says. "I"—here she glances at Blade—"very much dislike them, so it was a concern of mine, as well. The short answer is, not so closely that it leaves a bad taste in my mouth." "What does that mean?" you ask. "We submit financial requests to the Autarch's people for approval," Blade answers. "They provide our funds. And once a month I report on our activities myself directly to the Autarch. But this isn't something that affects you. Other than that, we are only affiliated in the loosest way possible. We are essentially given free reign." "Why does the Autarchy trust you so much? How do you know there aren't spies within the Order?" "I handpick every recruit myself," Blade answers. "And I am very, very good at rooting out spies." You notice that he didn't answer your first question… "There are also wards in place here to filter out Endarkened impersonators and traitors with ill intent," Tallys chimes in. "Anyone who has intentions to harm the Order is marked and expelled." <<include "needtoknowmoreshep2">>

At this, Tallys tenses, ever so slightly. "They're kept separate from us," she says, very softly. "They're not to interfere with our work—and we're not to interfere with theirs. Autarch's orders." "So they leave you alone?" "They're not raiding our compound every night, if that's what you mean," Blade says flatly. "No, they stay away. Inside these walls, we're safe from them. That's better than we can say for most." <<include "needtoknowmoreshep2">>

Trouble snorts. "Don't know that, I guess," he says, shrugging. "But we do know it'd be a damn waste, and the Autarch hates wasting things she can use." "There will always be a demon problem," Tallys adds. "And there will always be a need for people who can fight demons." <<include "needtoknowmoreshep2">>

Trouble sits back, disappointed. "That's too bad," he says, without accusation. "I thought you'd make a great recruit." "Am I free to go, then?" you ask. "I thank you for the medical care, though I don't know if I can pay you in full…" Tallys holds up her hand. "We didn't bring you here for that," she tells you. "You owe us no debts. You're free to leave whenever you feel recovered enough." Blade speaks up again just as you're clambering awkwardly to your feet. You test your joints and muscles, sore but intact—whoever healed you did a good job of it. Blade says, "There is the tricky matter that others have seen you fighting the Endarkened. As a Shepherd, we could protect you—but if you go your own way now, you could run into other authorities of the Autarchy. Some who are not too happy about having such a powerful Diminished running around the city." You look at him squarely. "Is that a threat?" "No," the Shepherds' leader answers, unsmiling. "It's a warning." "They'll feel better about it if you're under our jurisdiction," Trouble explains. "Because you'd be technically controlled by the Autarch. But out there, alone… they'd think you were a threat. A wild card." You think on his warning for a moment, but it doesn't change your mind. "Duly noted." Seemingly concluding that your business here is done, Blade turns and nods at you from the doorway. "Good luck out there." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You, too." </div>' 'rejectedthesheps'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Thanks." </div>' 'rejectedthesheps'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Say nothing. </div>' 'rejectedthesheps'>><<setloyal -5>><<set $compassionate -=1>><<set $blade -=1>><<set $trouble -=1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Tallys is looking at you with a sorrowful expression. "Our offer stands," she says, getting to her feet. "If you ever decide to change your mind, we'll be here." You nod. "I'll keep that in mind." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "byebyeshepherds">><</link>></center>

Outside, the sun burns bright and furious down on the streets of Haven. You look around, disorientated. When Shery was giving you your belongings back, she mentioned that it's already been two days since the attack on the church. You have no idea where the Kinley Traders are now, or what's happened to Caine and Prihine. Is it even any of your concern anymore? What are you going to do next? As you look around at the bustling crowds of Ashtown, trying to gain your bearings, you notice that there are a few people across the street from the Shepherds' compound, staring at you. Although they're not dressed in uniforms, something about them sends a chill down your spine. Their stances are too lackadaisical to be authentic; their clothes and faces are too clean for them to be from Ashtown. They're not Diminished, you think. They can't be. Their eyes are too bold, too confident, too… <i>inquisitive.</i> You feel the blood leave your hands. But you don't even have time to run before the Inquisitors descend on you. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "nabbedbyinquisitors">><</link>></center>

The dungeons beneath the Sun Court are not as terrible as you expected them to be. Of course, you are still recovering from your trials at the church, so the bone-deep chill coming off the stone walls fails to help the strange fever that's been besetting you for the last few days. And the pile of moldy straw that serves as your bed is certainly not luxurious, by any means. But you would have expected much more tortuous surroundings, judging by the horror stories you've heard since you were a small child. Maybe the Inquisitors are saving the worst for last, you think bleakly to yourself. Maybe they're just taking their time in breaking you. The worst part of the whole ordeal is the thoret on your wrists. You've heard of thoret, though you also thought it was an old wives' tale: it's some dark metal forged from cold iron and Waste-mined orichalcum that suppresses the Gift—be it magic, arma, or anything else. It didn't <i>feel</i> like anything when they clapped it on you. But you found that when you reached experimentally for your magic, there was nothing there: just a dull, muted sensation, as if a wall has descended between you and your innate powers, blocking off some vital artery. Even the strange, unknowable Words are no longer there. There's only blankness when you try and grasp for them. Perhaps some time needs to elapse before you're strong enough to use one again. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "inthoretchains">><</link>></center>

Your brooding is interrupted by a cruel clanging sound down the hall. One of the Inquisitors, you surmise, is rattling his steel club against the bars of the various cells and cages as he walks towards you. Eventually he draws up to the bars of your little prison, looking in; his eyes and hair are pale, down here in the dark, and his gaze glitters with a special kind of malice. "Diminished," he says, his voice clipped and cruel. "I've just received word from the Sun Court. You are to be executed at dawn for your crimes." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $didntusemagicatthechurch>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"What crimes? I didn\'t use any magic!" </div>' 'didntusemagicjackass'>><</link>> <<elseif $godspeaker == 6 or $runtowardsdemon is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"What crimes? I <i>saved</i> people!" </div>' 'whatcrimesjackass'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Wait... I can pay you..." </div>' 'bribetheinquisitor'>><<setcourage -1>><<setcunning +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You and the Sun Court can go to Hael." </div>' 'damntheinquisitor'>><<setcourage +2>><<setintelligence -2>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

You deliberately didn't use magic to avoid this exact scenario: did Prihine and Caine die for nothing? The Inquisitor is wholly unmoved by your protest—and despite yourself, your heart begins to rabbit desperately in your chest at the blank, uncaring look in his eyes. You should have known. These people don't give a shit about the letter of the law, about justice. They just want to see anyone they deem a threat to burn. And you killed a demon all on your own, without backup and without training; that's enough to raise their alarms, all right. Enough to make them panic and swarm, like bees around an invading wasp. Blade was right. To the Inquisitors, your very existence is a crime. You were doomed from the moment you set foot in the city.<<nobr>><br><br><<if $compassionate >= 50>><i>I should have saved them,</i> you think with a sick, gutted feeling. If you were going to be executed either way, you could have at least ensured Prihine or Caine would have lived. Now all three of you will be dead for nothing.<</if>><</nobr>> The Inquisitor turns away, indifferent. "You have been sentenced," he says simply. "I'd spend your last hours contemplating how you will meet the One-God, Diminished. Perhaps your soul can still be saved, even if your flesh is destroyed." <<include "deathforshepherds">>

The Inquisitor is unmoved. "You have broken the laws of the Autarchy," he intones. "The punishment for this is death." <<include "deathforshepherds">>

"I'll do anything," you tell him. "Just let me go…" The Inquisitor laughs, the sound as cold and glittering as broken glass. "Bribing an agent of the Sun Court is also a crime," he tells you. "One that is also punishable by death." <<include "deathforshepherds">>

"I'll see you there," you add viciously. The Inquisitor's eyes glitter with secret mirth. "I'll see you at dawn," he tells you. <<include "deathforshepherds">>

Then he walks away, leaving you to contemplate your fate in the cold and lonely dark. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "deathorshepherds">><</link>></center>

When the Inquisitor returns, hours later, he's accompanied by two stone-eyed Ket guards, each of whom holds a long and wicked spear in their hands. Deliriously you wonder if that's how execution in Haven works—if they're just going to skewer you in your cage like a pig. A night with the thoret on you has left you weak and almost senseless. As the Inquisitor draws up to your cage, he says, "Any last words, Diminished?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Wait. I was in my rights to fight that demon... I\'m a Shepherd." </div>' 'conscriptedwillingly'>><<setcunning +3>><<setintelligence +2>><<setcourage -2>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I have nothing to say to a dog of the Autarchy." </div>' 'conscriptedunwillingly'>><<setloyal -10>><<setcourage +10>><<setcunning -5>><<setintelligence -5>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"I'm authorized to do whatever I want in order to fight the Endarkened," you spit. "Did the Autarch know <i>that</i> when she signed the order for my execution?" For a moment, no one speaks. Then the Inquisitor flushes a little, two red spots appearing high on his cheekbones. "You lie," he says coldly. "Why didn't you state this sooner?" "I've been delirious after my strenuous battle with the demon," you drawl, not without a hint of sarcasm. "I hit my head pretty hard when I saved all of those lives. And the thoret muddles my senses. I've only just now regained my clarity." He watches you for another moment, his eyes vicious and snake-like. "You lie," he reiterates again, very softly. You sit back so that your manacles don't chafe at your wrists. "Check with the Commander of the Shepherds," you tell him, feigning bravado. "He'll tell you I'm under his jurisdiction." The silent Ket guards each glance at the Inquisitor. He presses his lips together for a moment, then snaps, "What are you waiting for? Go and find that wretched man!" <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "shepherdsconscriptfinal">><</link>></center>

"The Inquisitor laughs throatily. "How I love ridding the Autarchy of malcontents like you," he says. "Haven will be a better place without you." As they drag you out of your cage while you struggle weakly, you can't help but think back to the events that led you here. Where is the figure from your room now—the voice from your dreams? Where is the power that allowed you to slay a god? You can't help but wonder as they carry you to your death if things could have gone differently… But then they bring you out into the sun, and when you see the executioner's ax glinting in the light, you know that there is no more time to wonder. This is the end… <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "gameover">><</link>></center>

When Blade arrives to the dungeons, his face registers only the barest hint of surprise. "Thoret," he says, looking at you through the bars of the cage. "The stories of your battle must have been far-spread. That's a rare substance—generally only used on prisoners of the highest threat level." "I'm honored," you drawl. "Are you going to get me out of here?" "I'll do my best," he drawls back. "Though I have less power with the Autarchy than you might expect—being a Diminished myself. It would only really work if you were a Shepherd." You make a weary gesture, weighed down by the manacles of thoret. "They didn't tell you? I <i>am</i> a Shepherd." He regards you seriously. "I can't lie to them, <<c surname>>. They'll check later—to make sure you're really a member of our ranks. If you go your own way after this, they'll come after you. And they'll punish me, as well. I can't risk that happening when the Shepherds are still so fragile. They need a leader." "It's not a lie," you tell him grimly. "I'm a Shepherd." Blade levels you with a flat stare for a long while. "I need fighters," he says finally. "People who are willing to protect the citizenry—even if it means putting themselves in danger. But as much as we need recruits, I can't take in someone who will just use the position out of desperation, but who doesn't actually care for the work. That kind of attitude threatens lives." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Promise your loyalty. You really do want to become a Shepherd.</div>' 'pledgeyourloyalty'>><<setloyal +5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Persuade him. You may need to become a Shepherd to save your own life, but that doesn\'t mean you\'ll be happy about it. But you can find a way to make it work.</div>' 'persuadebladeofyourloyalty'>><<setcunning +8>><<setcharisma +1>><<setloyal -10>><<set $blade -= 5>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

You sigh. "I've had some time to think down here." Blade inclines his head to indicate that he's listening. "Long story short," you continue, "I've concluded that the only way that <i>my</i> life won't be threatened is if I join you. It's the only way for a Diminished to live with any kind of freedom nowadays. I see that now." You shake your head. "So I promise, no resentment, no conniving. I'll do my best for the Shepherds. I'll be a good soldier, I'll protect all the civilians you want. You'll never have a complaint about me. You're giving me a second chance at life, after all." Blade stares at you with a piercing, unflinching gaze... but ultimately, he seems satisfied with your answer. <<include "andyouintendtokeepyourword">>

"The best I can promise you is that I'll do what needs to be done," you tell him, exasperated. "I won't desert, I won't betray you. I'll fight demons and protect all the citizens you want. You'll never have a complaint about me; I understand and accept my responsibilities, and I won't take them lightly. I'll be a good soldier. But I won't pretend that it was my first choice." Blade frowns. He doesn't seem to be happy about your response, but you surmise that he doesn't have much of a choice. <<include "andyouintendtokeepyourword">>

"And you intend to keep your word if I get you out?" You don't break eye contact with him. "Yes." The word clangs like the sounding of a bell: it has a touch of finality or fate to it. Blade looks at you for a long moment, gauging you. Finally he steps up to the bars and sticks his hand through them. "Fine. We have a deal, <<c firstname>>." You lift up your shackled hand to take his. Later you'll each cut your thumbs and press the bloody prints into the contract that will seal your fate. Blade smiles for the first time, a look full of irony and amusement. "Welcome to the Shepherds," he says, gripping your hand. "Here's to auspicious beginnings." <<set $shepherdsconscript to true>> <<include "chapter1end">>

You think back to the disappearance of your hometown, the destruction in the church. This could be it, you think. What you came to Haven for. You could use this opportunity to fight Endarkened, research and hone your powers, stay safe from the Autarchy and its damn laws… You could find a home and a community and a way to exercise your potential to its fullest. Becoming a Shepherd could literally be the answer to all of your problems. "I am looking for work," you say aloud. "My last job… ended pretty abruptly." Trouble sits back, as if satisfied by your answer. "Well, you're never gonna find work like this in Blest, $firstname," he announces. "I can tell you that much." Blade arches a brow at you from his position by the door. "Do we have a deal?" This is how it starts, you'll think later. This is the moment that everything hinges on—like the moment in your dream where you slew a god. Like the moment that strange figure appeared in your room. Everything ahead will lead back to this. "I'll do it," you hear yourself saying, and it sounds as if the voice is not yours, but many voices speaking at once. Blade smiles for the first time when he comes to shake your hand. Later you'll each cut your thumbs and press the bloody prints into the contract that will seal your fate. Trouble nudges you. "Hey, congratulations! One of us now." "It's a long and hard road, but a rewarding one," Tallys states calmly—but her eyes are warm and approving. You smile, looking around at them all, feeling a fierce and familiar light bloom in your chest, so intense that it almost resembles pain. Your bones feel as if they've been lit with sunlight. <<if $newgameplus>> It's strange: why do you feel as if you've stood here before, as if you could trust these people with your life? What is this surge of affection, or excitement, or memory that you're feeling?<</if>> "I can't wait to get started." Blade nods at you, the hound on his chest glinting as if it's caught on fire. "Welcome to the Shepherds, <<c firstname>>." <<include "chapter1end">>

<<nobr>> <<unset $resist>> <<unset $whatsinitforme>> <<unset $sheher>> <<unset $correctname>> <<unset $avoidtellingcaine>> <<unset $possibleheritage>> <<unset $didntusemagicatthechurch>> <</nobr>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>End Chapter</span></div></div>' "endprologuescreen">><<set $codex +=1, $cloak to true, $medallion to true>><</link>></center>

<div class="box"><span class="endchaptersummary"><<nobr>> <center><span class="heading">Chapter Summary</span></center> <br> <span class="bulleticon"><span class="fas fa-chevron-right"></span></span>&emsp;You were hired as a mercenary bodyguard to accompany Prihine Naveen to her wedding in the capital of Haven. A Mage with immense and mysterious talents, you were adopted and raised by <<if $heritage is "Elf">>Elves in the hidden valley of Vale;<<elseif $heritage is "Ket">>Ket in the remote village of Drummond's Point;<<elseif $heritage is "Norm">>Norms in the frontier outpost of Westwood;<<else>>Hunters in the farming community at Maj;<</if>> you were <<if $education is "Self-taught">>self-taught in the magical arts<<elseif $education is "Journeyman">>apprenticed to Belnus Farplane for your magical education<<else>>trained in the secret Mage Circle at Capra<</if>> and specialize in the $mainweapon as your weapon of choice. You came to Haven in order to start a new chapter of your life. Both the invading Endarkened and the ruling Autarchy shadow your steps. <br><br> <span class="bulleticon"><span class="fas fa-chevron-right"></span></span>&emsp;<<if $avoidcaine is true>>You avoided the young apprentice Caine in order to pacify his master, Ebert, and ended up spending more time with Prihine instead.<<elseif $staycaine is true>>You defied Ebert in order to continue associating with his apprentice Caine, earning the meat merchant's ire and the attention of the Vice Guard.<</if>> <<if $kissguardsuccess>><br><br><span class="bulleticon"><span class="fas fa-chevron-right"></span></span>&emsp;You kissed the guard at the front gates in order to secure your entrance into the city.<</if>> <br><br><span class="bulleticon"><span class="fas fa-chevron-right"></span></span>&emsp;When Prihine's wedding was attacked by demons,<<if $runfromdemon>> you chose to flee the church in order to save yourself.<<elseif $runtowardsdemon>> you chose to stay at the church and fight.<</if>> <br><br><span class="bulleticon"><span class="fas fa-chevron-right"></span></span>&emsp;<<if $bothdead>>As a result of your actions, both Prihine and Caine are dead.<<elseif $bothsafe>>As a result of your actions, both Prihine and Caine are alive and well.<<elseif $prihinesafe>>As a result of your decision, Prihine was saved while Caine was killed.<<elseif $cainesafe>>As a result of your decision, Caine was saved while Prihine was killed.<</if>> <br><br><span class="bulleticon"><span class="fas fa-chevron-right"></span></span>&emsp;<<if $shepherdsjoin>>When the Order of the Shepherds approached you, offering you a job as a sanctioned demon-slayer, arcane investigator, and general protector of the populace, you joined them willingly, pledging your powers to serving the greater good. The founding members of the Order will remember that.<<elseif $shepherdsconscript>>Although you initially turned the Order of the Shepherds down when they offered you a job, you were ultimately conscripted against your will in order to save yourself from execution by the Inquisitors.<</if>> <</nobr>></span><span class="endchaptersummary2"></span></div> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "endprologuelevelup">><<set $part to 1>><<set $health to 100>><<set $rank to "Officer">><<set $clothes to "the crisp, black-and-silver-threaded uniform of the Shepherds, the rampant hound shining proudly on your chest">><<if $shepherdsjoin is true and $blade gte 25>><<achieve "achieve_firstimpressions">><<elseif $shepherdsconscript is true>><<achieve "achieve_conscripted">><</if>><</link>></center>

<<if recall("achieve_firstimpressions") is true and recall("achieve_conscripted") is false>><<notify_achievement "The Wolf Triumphant" "Made a good first impression on the Shepherds.">> <<elseif recall("achieve_conscripted") is true and recall("achieve_firstimpressions") is false>><<notify_achievement "A Leashed Dog" "Had to be conscripted into the Shepherds' Order to protect yourself from the law.">><</if>> <div class="box"><span class="column-icon"><span class="endchaptericon"><i class="fas fa-shield-alt"></i></span></span><span class="column-2"><span class="heading">Items</span><br>You gained a new Shepherds uniform and a Shepherds sun medallion as a result of your recruitment.</span></div> <div class="box"><span class="column-icon"><span class="endchaptericon"><i class="fas fa-book-open"></i></span></span><span class="column-2"><span class="heading">Codex</span><br>Your <span class="entrylink">[[codex|Documents]]</span> has been updated with a new entry: <b><i class="fas fa-hand-sparkles"></i> <i>The Shepherds' Oath.</i></b></span></div> <div class="box"><span class="column-icon"><span class="endchaptericon"><i class="fas fa-heart"></i></span></span><span class="column-2"><span class="heading">Relationships</span><br>Your <span class="entrylink">[[character guide|Character Guide]]</span> and <span class="entrylink">[[relationships|Relationships]]</span> page have been updated with new entries.</span></div> <<if recall("achieve_firstimpressions") is true and recall("achieve_conscripted") is false>><div class="box"><span class="column-icon"><span class="endchaptericon"><i class="fas fa-trophy"></i></span></span><span class="column-2"><span class="heading">Achievements</span><br>You unlocked a new <span class="entrylink">[[achievement|Achivements]]</span>: <b>The Wolf Triumphant.</b></span></div> <<elseif recall("achieve_conscripted") is true and recall("achieve_firstimpressions") is false>><div class="box"><span class="column-icon"><span class="endchaptericon"><i class="fas fa-trophy"></i></span></span><span class="column-2"><span class="heading">Achievements</span><br>You unlocked a new <span class="achievement">[[achievement|Achievements]]</span>: <b>A Leashed Dog.</b></span></div><</if>> <div class="box"><span class="column-icon"><span class="endchaptericon"><i class="fas fa-first-aid"></i></span></span><span class="column-2"><span class="heading">Health</span><br>Your health has been fully restored.</span></div> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Proceed to Next Chapter</span></div></div>' "chapter1start">><<if settings.music is true>><<audio "hq" volume 0.1 play>><</if>> <</link>></center>

<<nobr>><i>My dear <<c rank>> <<c surname>>,</i> <br><br> <i>Thank you for your service to Haven. I have heard tell of your remarkable deeds in dealing with the Equalist problem, and I must tell you how impressed we are.</i> <br><br> <<if $childreninquisitors is true>> <i>My Inquisitors are still performing their tests, but I believe you did the right thing in turning the children over to their expertise. Rest assured, the children are in good hands.</i> <br><br> <<include "token">> <<elseif $childrensafe is true>> <i>That you were able to save innocent Sun-touched children from certain death is something the Sun Court will not forget soon.</i> <</if>> <br><br> <<if $childrenquarantined is true>> <i>If the children prove to be too much of a burden for the Shepherds, have your Commander notify my offices, and we will increase funding and resources to accommodate.</i> <br><br> <<include "token">> <<elseif $childrenhome is true>> <i>That they were able to return home safe and whole seems truly a miraculous gift from The Most High.</i> <br><br> <<include "token">> <<elseif $childrendead is true>> <i>It is unfortunate that the poor Sun-touched children could not be saved—but the One-God has plans for us all. </i> <br><br> <<include "token">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<i>Please, take this token of my appreciation. I would like to meet you someday soon, when the gaze of the One-God is not quite so scorching. </i> <i>Until then,</i> <i>The Golden One</i>

<i><<c rank>> <<c surname>></i>: <<nobr>><<if $inquisitors is true>> <br> <i>We have been informed that the Shepherds have come into conflict with the Inquisitors. Both serve as hands of the Sun Court, and <b>both</b> must abide by its laws. Be forewarned: if you continue in your insubordination, you shall be summoned to the Chrysalis yourself.</i> <br><br> <<else>> <br> <i>Welcome to the Order.</i> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>> <<if settings.music is true>><<audio "hq" volume 0.1 play>><</if>> <<fadein 10s>> <<fadeout 5s 8s>><div class="chapterlogo"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/logos/chaptercroplogo.png" alt="Shepherds of Haven"><center><span class="chapterglow">Chapter One</span></center></div><</fadeout>> <</fadein>><</nobr>> <<timed 13s>><<goto "chapter1begin">><</timed>><span class="next">[[Next|chapter1begin]]</span>

<span class="splash">Several Weeks Later</span><span class="splashblur"><<set $blueprint1 to true>><<notify_map "The Order of the Shepherds">>Summer in Haven is an ugly thing. Your first few weeks as a Shepherd stream by in a hot, gritty blur. It takes a few days for you to get settled into the Shepherds' compound—a sprawling, closed-off building in the heart of Ashtown, high-walled to stave off vandals and replete with its own courtyards, training grounds, stables, riding green, refectory, and residential quarters. Shery informs you that the building was once the base of a great Mage's tower, from the time before Haven was claimed by Norms: if that's true, you can't even imagine the original structure's immensity, because it already seems quite tall, and bizarrely, some days it seems to grow even taller. Sometimes you get an uneasy feeling wandering the halls at night, and a few wrong turns have gotten you dizzyingly lost until every door seems to lead into the same room. But it's a home, of a sort. Your initiation into the Shepherds was a short, no-frills ceremony where you recited the Shepherds' oath and signed a contract in blood. There are only about a score of fighters in the Shepherds, almost all of them newly-recruited, like you. Trouble is the only Norm combatant among them, leading you to wonder how he joined up in the first place. "Norms can hate demons, too," he laughs when you ask him. "And they can fight. When I heard Blade was forming this ragtag little team, I told him I'd be the first to sign up." "You don't care that everyone else is Diminished?" Trouble snorts. "Diminished, Norm," he says. "It's all just words. Why do I care if you can throw a fireball? I can shoot the pinfeather off of a hawk from almost a league away. Does that mean you should shun me?" You grin. "That attitude can't make you popular with the Autarchy. Or, for that matter, other Norms." Trouble lights a stick of charch and blows a cloud of white, savory-smelling smoke over his shoulder. "Let's just say they've disowned me," he says. "Which doesn't bother me, since I disowned <i>them</i> long ago."</span> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "chapter1start-1">><</link>></center>

That seems to be the story with every Shepherd you meet: it's a group of misfits and outsiders that Blade has scrounged up, skilled though they are. No one brings up his own supposed dark past, and you know better than to ask. But it gives you a sense of comfort, knowing that you're not the only one trying to move on from a troubled history. Not the only one harboring secrets that you don't quite understand. The only time anyone asks you about your past is when the topic of your education comes up: everyone wants to know what type of magic you lean towards, where your strengths and weaknesses are. What order you would have been grouped into before the Castigation. Although specialized magical tomes and spells have largely been destroyed by the Autarchy, leaving many advanced techniques lost to time, your magic still naturally favors one of the <<linkappend "three main Orders of Mages..." t8n>> <center><span class="heading">Select Your Magic Specialization:</span></center> <div class="cardcontainer"> <div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/astralcard.png" alt="The Astral Order" class="card"><div class="cardtransitions"><div class="cardlink"><<link 'The Astral Order'>><<script>> Dialog.setup("The Astral Order"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("theastralorder").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">The Astral Order</span></center></div> <div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/psioniccard2.png" alt="The Psionic Order" class="card"><div class="cardtransitions"><div class="cardlink"><<link 'The Psionic Order'>><<script>> Dialog.setup("The Psionic Order"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("thepsionicorder").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">The Psionic Order</span></center></div> <div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/arcanecard.png" alt="The Arcane Order" class="card"><div class="cardtransitions"><div class="cardlink"><<link 'The Arcane Order'>><<script>> Dialog.setup("The Arcane Order"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("thearcaneorder").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">The Arcane Order</span></center></div></div><</linkappend>>

The Astral Order, sometimes known as the Star-Crowned Order or the Burning Hand, was an order encompassing Mages who dealt with the energies of the universe and the ether. There were many different specializations and factions who were part of the Astral Order, including Battle-Mages, Healers, and Elementalists. ---- <div class="box"><span class="column-1"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/symbols/battlemage.png" class="status"></span><span class="column-2"><center><span class="heading">Battle-Mages</span></center>Battle magic involves the use of powerful combat spells and potent destructive energies to turn the tide of battle in the user's favor. Summoning weapons from the ether and armor from the earth, hurling meteoric impact blasts and bolts of magical lightning, using superstrength to shatter bones or gravity wells to pummel opponents, casting shields and wards, and more are all part of a Battle-Mage's arsenal. The most powerful Battle-Mages, once called War-Mages, could pull mountains down over their enemies or burn through armies like wildfires. <br><br><center><<button 'Select Battle Magic as Specialization'>><<set $specialization to "battle">><<set $specializationtitle to "Battle-Mage">><<set $obscura to "Duelki">><<setcourage +3>><<setstrength +5>><<fair_plus "$astral" +15>><<goto "specializationnext">><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>></center></span></div> ---- <div class="box"><span class="column-1"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/symbols/healer.png" class="status"></span><span class="column-2"><center><span class="heading">Healers</span></center>Healing magic involves using magic to heal people's bodies, soothe their minds, and restore and repair broken objects. The most powerful Healers could once bring people back from the gates of death, perform transformative surgeries, regrow limbs and restore senses, or even extract and extinguish painful memories and nightmares. Today, healing magic is one of the few accepted uses of magic still practiced in the Autarchy, requiring skilled, patient, and precise users with expert knowledge of anatomy, mending, and even niche fields like diseases and poison.<br><br><center><<button 'Select Healing Magic as Specialization'>><<set $specialization to "healer">><<set $specializationtitle to "Healer">><<set $obscura to "Elae">><<setcompassionate +5>><<setintelligence +3>><<fair_plus "$astral" +15>><<goto "specializationnext">><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>></center></span></div> ---- <div class="box"><span class="column-1"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/symbols/elementalist.png" class="status"></span><span class="column-2"><center><span class="heading">Elementalists</span></center> Elemental magic involves controlling and manipulating the natural elements, generally those of fire, water, air, and earth. Walking on rivers, ending droughts, creating heat and light, and even learning to glide on the wind were once all commonplace pursuits for Elementalists. Some even forged special connections with Elemental creatures in the past. The most powerful Elementalists were called Weather-Mages, and they could summon storms, call lightning, or raise the land to their aid. <br><br><center><<button 'Select Elemental Magic as Specialization'>><<set $specialization to "elementalist", $specializationtitle to "Elementalist", $obscura to "Aetherai">><<setcunning +5>><<setintelligence +3>><<fair_plus "$astral" +15>><<setayla +5>><<goto "specializationnext">><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>></center></span></div> ---- <center><<button 'Return'>><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>></center>

The Psionic Order, sometimes known as the Clarion League or the Mindsearers, was a sect encompassing Mages who dealt with psychic energies and powers of the mind. There were many different specializations and factions who were part of the Psionic Order, including Diviners, Enchanters, and Wild-Mages. ---- <div class="box"><span class="column-1"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/symbols/diviner.png" class="status"></span><span class="column-2"><center><span class="heading">Diviners</span></center>Divining magic is often divided into three categories: magic that spies on things and scenes in the present; magic that divines what happened in the past; and magic that makes prophecies about what might happen in the future. Although practitioners of a famously fickle and difficult art, Diviners are sought after as prized investigators and spies, able to pierce the veils of time and space with their mind's eye. Skilled Diviners can even predict their opponents' movements in battle, making them more difficult to injure when advanced enough to Divine in real-time. <br><br><center><<button 'Select Divination as Specialization'>><<set $specialization to "diviner">><<set $specializationtitle to "Diviner">><<set $obscura to "Argentis">><<setintelligence +5>><<setcunning +3>><<fair_plus "$psionic" +15>><<setmimir +5>><<goto "specializationnext">><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>></center></span></div> ---- <div class="box"><span class="column-1"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/symbols/enchanter.png" class="status"></span><span class="column-2"><center><span class="heading">Enchanters</span></center>Enchanting magic involves using one's willpower and mental cunning to bend the minds and wills of other people to the user’s whims. Charms, bewitchments, and glamours fall under enchanting, as do illusions such as invisibility and spells that cause sleep or paralysis. The strongest Enchanters could once probe their opponents' memories for truth or knowledge, enslave another's mind to them, or even drive their victims mad.<br><br><center><<button 'Select Enchantment as Specialization'>><<set $specialization to "enchanter">><<set $specializationtitle to "Enchanter">><<set $obscura to "Dulcetis">><<setcharisma +8>><<fair_plus "$psionic" +15>><<goto "specializationnext">><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>></center></span></div> ---- <div class="box"><span class="column-1"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/symbols/wildmage.png" class="status"></span><span class="column-2"><center><span class="heading">Wild Mages</span></center> Wild magic involves using animals and wild creatures as an extension of the self: speaking to, controlling, summoning, or borrowing the bodies of wild beasts and living things. Seeing through the eyes of a cat, conversing with a passing bird, or sending a stampede of horses through an enemy camp were once all commonplace talents for Wild Mages. In the past, Wild Mages often had familiars bound to them, and could sometimes even speak to ancient trees and plants. <br><br><center><<button 'Select Wild Magic as Specialization'>><<set $specialization to "wild", $specializationtitle to "Wild Mage", $obscura to "Fera">><<setcunning +5>><<setcharisma +3>><<fair_plus "$psionic" +15>><<goto "specializationnext">><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>></center></span></div> ---- <center><<button 'Return'>><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>></center>

The Arcane Order, sometimes known as the Bridgebuilders or the Order of Light and Shadow, was an order encompassing Mages who dealt with occult rituals or magic manipulating form, essence, time, and space. There were many different specializations and factions who were part of the Arcane Order, including Shifters, Binders, and Conjurers. ---- <div class="box"><span class="column-1"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/symbols/shifter.png" class="status"></span><span class="column-2"><center><span class="heading">Shifters</span></center>Shifters, also sometimes called Change-Mages, use transformative magic to change substantive objects from one thing to another: Alchemysts can change water into wine, iron into gold, blood into oil, and much more, utilizing chemical reactions and transmutations to alter the substance and matter of the things around them. Shifters who change their own shape, called Shrouders, are capable of transforming themselves into other objects, people, or beings, giving themselves arms of stone, the eyes of owls, or the faces of those they want to impersonate. <br><br><center><<button 'Select Shifting Magic as Specialization'>><<set $specialization to "shifter">><<set $specializationtitle to "Shifter">><<set $obscura to "Mutai">><<setcunning +8>><<fair_plus "$arcane" +15>><<goto "specializationnext">><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>></center></span></div> ---- <div class="box"><span class="column-1"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/symbols/binder.png" class="status"></span><span class="column-2"><center><span class="heading">Binders</span></center>Binding magic involves magically binding, storing, or confining forces and powers to items, usually for later use: spirits to artifacts, spells to inanimate objects, energy to weapons and armor. The most skilled Binders can even infuse simple chalkmarks or runes with complex curses, creating traps and wards to terrorize their enemies; store explosive energies inside glass orbs to create magical bombs; or charge lodestones and amulets to use as arcane batteries. Before the Castigation, there were even Binders who could bind spirits or energy to corpses to reanimate the dead, called Whisperers.<br><br><center><<button 'Select Binding Magic as Specialization'>><<set $specialization to "binder">><<set $specializationtitle to "Binder">><<set $obscura to "Astrigai">><<setintelligence +8>><<fair_plus "$arcane" +15>><<goto "specializationnext">><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>></center></span></div> ---- <div class="box"><span class="column-1"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/symbols/conjurer.png" class="status"></span><span class="column-2"><center><span class="heading">Conjurers</span></center> Conjuration magic involves summoning things from somewhere else: food from "thin air," jewels from far-away places, waiting armies from distant valleys. The most advanced Conjurers can teleport themselves instantaneously, sometimes phasing through solid matter or shifting their density in ways that defy the laws of space and dimension. However, conjuration can also be misused: while Summoners, the most powerful Conjurers, can conjure living beings from other planes—usually non-demonic fey creatures or spirits for contracted service—there are a few who can also summon demons, becoming reviled Sorcerers in doing so. <br><br><center><<button 'Select Conjuration as Specialization'>><<set $specialization to "conjurer", $specializationtitle to "Conjurer", $obscura to "Obsidai">><<setintelligence +4>><<setcourage +4>><<fair_plus "$arcane" +15>><<setred +5>><<goto "specializationnext">><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>></center></span></div> ---- <center><<button 'Return'>><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>></center>

<<notify_codex_culture "The Magics of Blest">>Of course, you add ruefully, it doesn't matter much, given that magic is almost entirely outlawed in the Autarchy and you've never had much chance to hone your spellcraft to the point of being able to practice the very specialized and niche spells. You're lucky you even know how to use functional magic at all: most of the Mage populace no longer can. They were never taught, and never allowed the resources or freedom to learn. Shery looks pensive when you tell her this. "Well, this entire compound used to be the residence of a very great Mage," she says thoughtfully. "I'll see what I can find." "And you're no longer under the Autarchy's thumb," Blade adds, looking up from his sui game with Trouble. "Not in a conventional sense, anyway. We'll make sure you're well-equipped in the battle against the Endarkened." "And to Hael with what the Inquisitors say about that," Trouble finishes. He scowls when Blade silently makes a move and wins the game. "If we're going to lay our lives on the line for them, we're going to do it on <i>our</i> terms." You can't help but smile at that. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "chapter1start1-2">><</link>></center>

There is a procession of training, of testing, of familiarizing yourself with the idea of being a Shepherd. You brush up on your fighting skills, and relish the opportunity to let your magic stretch after years of dormancy and secretiveness. For the first time you allow yourself to light candles and wash dishes with a snap of your finger, and you think to yourself that being a Shepherd really isn't so bad. Then there are the patrols. Long patrols, wearying patrols—tedious patrols through the hot, dusty streets under an acidic blue sky or watched by the lidless moons. You only encounter another Endarkened once, a small Imp skittering through an alleyway, which you dispatch with ease. The actual difficulty is something you didn't expect: enduring the stares of civilians as you walk by. The other Diminished fear you, because you work for the Autarchy, and many consider you to be traitors to your kind. And the Norms hate and fear you as well, since you are powerful and Diminished and allowed to use your abilities freely, with only the word of the Autarch as a thin chain to keep you in line. You have become used to the sight of people flinching away from you in the street, like a dangerous dog off its leash. But other than that, your initiation into the Shepherds is untroubled by nothing more than long shifts prowling the streets of Ashtown and Smoketown. You begin to tire of sweating under the brutal sun, of scanning the streets ceaselessly for any sign of a demon. Tallys tells you that the Autarchy usually dispatches the Shepherds on missions throughout Blest, to handle a village's demon infestation or to exorcise some Thrall, but ever since you joined up, there's been an unusual lull. "Lucky me?" you say. She smiles at you faintly. "Wait until things pick up again," she counsels. "You'll find yourself wishing for the days when you had nothing to do but patrol." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "chapter1start-3">><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<if $godspeaker is 6>> Some of your patrols take you past the church where you first encountered the Revenants. Sometimes you allow yourself to glance over at the huge frozen demon that still looms there. Despite the church and the Autarchy's best efforts, the Revenant simply cannot be removed or destroyed; it stands there, utterly immobile, and eventually the stream of city life has resumed around it until it's become nothing more than a statue in the background. You even see birds shitting on it at times. <br><br> Blade asks you what manner of spell you used to produce such a result, but you can only shake your head. You hope that the Word of Power you used doesn't wear off one day—that the Revenant doesn't suddenly just resume its rampage. That would be disastrous. But you can only make your circuitous patrol around it and hope. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "chapter1start-4">><</link>></center><<else>><<goto "chapter1start-4">><</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<audio ":playing" fadeoverto 10 0>><<if $cainesafe>> A few days after your initiation, Caine comes to visit you. <br><br> He's no worse for the wear following his encounter with the Revenant, and his gratitude over being rescued by you is overshadowed only by his excitement that you've now officially become a Shepherd. <<if $avoidcaine>> He's also seemed to have forgotten all about your snubbing of him during your long caravan trip to Haven. <</if>> "I knew it all along," he crows when he sees you in the dark-cloaked uniform. "I always knew you were meant to be a Shepherd!" <br><br> "You did, did you?" you ask wryly. <br><br> Caine nods his head vigorously. "My new master at the woolery—Zatani—he supports the Shepherds and thinks you all are heroes who keep us safe with no thanks. But he's <i>never</i> going to believe I actually know one of you! Will you still meet with me sometimes, and tell me stories?" <br><br> "So far there's not much to tell," you admit, but nothing can ever dampen Caine's enthusiasm. He only leaves after he wrestles many promises out of you to keep in touch. In exchange he'll bring you word of any gossip he hears in Smoketown or the Market Quarter. You watch him skip away into the glassy sunlight and wonder to yourself if you could have ever been that carefree, following your first near-death experience with a demon. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "chapter1dayoff">><</link>></center> <<elseif $prihinesafe>> A few days after your initiation, a courier comes to visit you. <br><br> He's a stiff-backed young Norm, sporting vaguely-familiar colors and the livery of someone belonging to the Consortium. For a horrible moment, you think you've been summoned by the Sun Court or its Inquisitors, but then you see that the courier bears a perfumed envelope addressed to you in feminine script. <br><br> "A secret admirer?" Trouble asks, looking over your shoulder at the handwriting. "You hiding a lover from us, $firstname?" <br><br> You ignore him and tear open the envelope. Enclosed is a brief note: <br><br> <<set $loadPassage to Story.get("prihinesnotechapter1_cainedead").text;>> <<letter_holder "formal" $loadPassage>> <br> When you look up from the letter, the courier hands you a hefty sum of money and trots away! <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "chapter1dayoff">><<set $gold += 50>><</link>></center> <<elseif $bothdead>> A few days after your initiation, the Minister holds a grand funeral for Prihine. <br><br> Hundreds gather in Whitestone to attend the burial, though Prihine was a transplant and had very few real friends in Haven. The newspapers write about her as if she were a saint: a beautiful young noblewoman snatched out of the prime of her life by a wicked Endarkened and (in some papers) the incompetence of the Shepherds. She is buried in the Norm tradition in a proud old graveyard near the Minister's home, and so many flowers pile on her grave that they overflow onto nearby plots. <br><br> …Or so you hear. As a Diminished, you are not allowed to attend the funeral of such an esteemed personage. <br><br> Caine is buried in an unmarked grave in Ashtown. When you go to lay flowers at his grave, you see that no one else has come to visit him—not even Ebert. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "chapter1dayoff">><</link>></center> <<elseif $bothsafe>> A few days after your initiation, Caine comes to visit you. <br><br> He's no worse for the wear following his encounter with the Revenant, and his gratitude over being rescued by you is overshadowed only by his excitement that you've now officially become a Shepherd. <<if $avoidcaine>> He's also seemed to have forgotten all about your snubbing of him during your long caravan trip to Haven. <</if>> <br><br> "I knew it all along," he crows when he sees you in the dark-cloaked uniform. "I always knew you were meant to be a Shepherd!" <br><br> "You did, did you?" you ask wryly. <br><br> Caine nods his head vigorously. "My new master at the woolery—Zatani—he supports the Shepherds and thinks you all are heroes who keep us safe for no thanks. But he's <i>never</i> going to believe I actually know one of you! Will you still meet with me sometimes, and tell me stories?" <br><br> "So far there's not much to tell," you admit, but nothing can ever dampen Caine's enthusiasm. He stays a while, talking with you about your new lives in Haven and begging you to keep in touch, before he suddenly remembers something. <br><br> "Oh, the Lady paid me to give this to you," he says, drawing out a crumpled, perfumed envelope and a small pouch from his pocket. <br><br> You open the letter first. <br><br> <<set $loadPassage to Story.get("prihinesnotechapter1_cainealive").text;>> <<letter_holder "formal" $loadPassage>> <br> When you open the pouch that she sent with Caine, you find that it's full of more gold than you've seen in your life! <br><br> Caine grins at you. "She may be a royal pain in the arse," he says, "but at least she's <i>royal</i>." <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "chapter1dayoff">><<set $cainesafe to true, $prihinesafe to true, $gold += 90>><</link>></center> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $bothsafe>><<notify_gold "+90 Gold">><<elseif $prihinesafe>><<notify_gold "+50 Gold">><</if>><</nobr>>A few weeks after you join the Shepherds, you finally get your first day off. You're surprised when Blade stops by to tell you: somehow you didn't envision the Autarch's police force having holidays and leisure time. When you say this, Blade just smiles faintly as he walks away. "Make the most of it while you can," he says, ominously echoing Tallys's earlier words. "If we're right and demon numbers increase, days like this will come few and far between. Be sure to value your time." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "dayoff">><<set $visitingdayofffirsttime to true>><<if settings.music is true>><<audio ":playing" fadeout>><</if>><</link>></center>

<<set $guilt to "">>Time passes. The blazing Haven summer begins to wane, turning into early fall. The days are still warm, but the sky takes on a greyer, dreamier tint, losing its sharp blue acidity. Leaves begin to flutter in the street, crunching underneath your boots as you make your nightly patrols. Your life settles into the rhythms of life as a Shepherd. Still. Although your new home and life bring you some measure of comfort, they don't quite stop the dreams. At least once a week you find yourself tangled up in your bedsheets, sweating and fearful and near-feverish. You dream of blood and screams, fire and thrashing and burning pain. The dark laugh of a demon echoes in your ears—<i>Child. Long live the Nightwalker</i>—and when you jolt awake, the words always drop from your lips before you can stop them: <<nobr>><<cycle "$guilt" autoselect>> <<option '"<i>Father...</i>"'>> <<option '"<i>Zori...</i>"'>> <<option '"<i>Help...</i>"'>> <<option '"<i>I\'m sorry...</i>"'>> <</cycle>><</nobr>> Guilt and terror always roar up in you when you hear yourself saying that, the feelings sometimes as fresh as the day you turned thirteen. Shuddering, you tend to <<nobr>><<cycle "$guilt2" autoselect>> <<option "revel in self-loathing for a while. Why weren't you strong enough to save them? And what did you even do?">> <<option "allow yourself to shed a few tears. You still miss them so much.">> <<option "force yourself to get up and do something else. No need to dwell on the past.">> <<option "clench your teeth painfully hard and glare at the ceiling. <i>Fuck the demons.</i> They took everything away from you. ">> <<option "close your eyes and force yourself into a meditative state. You're grateful that you survived, at least. ">> <</cycle>><</nobr>> Throwing yourself into your work as a Shepherd helps. Every time you eviscerate a demon, you think about how you're preventing some child from becoming another you. It helps ease the hurt. If you can't completely purge your inner demons just yet, you can at least eradicate the ones out there. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "equalistsbegin">><<unset $guilt>><<unset $guilt2>><</link>></center>

About five sennights after your initiation into the Order, Blade leaves the city with a few other fighters to deal with a demon infestation in the nearby city of Ambryn—leaving Trouble, his Vice-Commander, in charge. <<nobr>><<if $bothsafe is true or $cainesafe is true>><<include "cainealiveequalistsintro">><<elseif $cainedead is true or $bothdead is true>><<include "artaequalistsintro">><</if>><</nobr>>

You're walking with the bored gunslinger on patrol when you hear a voice call out your name. You turn. Caine's there, looking both relieved and frantic. As he dashes up to you, Trouble says, "You know this kid?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"He\'s my friend." </div>' 'caineintrotrouble1'>><<setloyal +1>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"We\'re acquainted." </div>' 'caineintrotrouble2'>><<setloyal -1>><<setcunning +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Never seen him before in my life." </div>' 'caineintrotrouble3'>><<setcompassionate -3>><<setloyal -3>><<setcharisma -1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"<<c firstname>> saved my life," Caine adds, putting his hands on his knees as he pants for breath. "I'm glad I found you, <<c firstname>>! I need your help!" <<include "cainekidnap">>

"Acquainted? More like bonded for life!" Caine pants, putting his hands on his knees as he gasps for breath. "I'm glad I found you, <<c firstname>>! I need your help!" <<include "cainekidnap">>

Caine waves his hand and laughs like you've made a good joke. "We came here to Haven together," he tells Trouble as he puts his hands on his knees and tries to catch his breath. "I'm glad I found you, <<c firstname>>! I need your help!" <<include "cainekidnap">>

You glance sidelong at Trouble, who merely looks amused. "What's going on, Caine?" His cheeks are pink from exertion: the poor boy must have run the length of the city to come get you. "There's a boy at the woolery," he pants. "Hal. Another apprentice. Me and him are friends. Well, a few sennights ago, he disappeared. My master—Zatani—he said Hal must have run away, but I didn't believe that. Hal would have told me—and anyway, we <i>like</i> our work with Zatani. He's nice, and the pay and the work's good. There'd be no reason to run off. But no one believed me when I said something was wrong. I tried looking for him—I even told the Vice Guard—but no one gave two kaks about him!" "I'm not sure if I can help you with a missing boy," you begin. "Have you spoken to his family?" But Caine waves you off. "It's not his <i>missing</i> that's the problem," he says. "It's that he <i>came back</i>." You exchange glances with Trouble again. "I'm not sure I follow." Caine straightens, having finally gotten his breath back. "He came back today," he blurts. "Showed up again at the workshop… But something's… wrong with him. Something's different. It's not natural." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"What do you mean, \'not natural\'?" </div>' 'whatdoyoumeancaine1'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Do you think it has something to do with an Endarkened?" </div>' 'isitanendarkenedcaine'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Caine shakes his head. "I can't explain it. It's just like he's… not right. He's not the same Hal. And he won't tell anyone where he went." He looks at you with beseeching eyes. "Please, can you come look at him?" <<include "cainechoice">>

But Endarkened don't kidnap children, only to later let them go, you think. They either kill them on the spot or they don't. But they don't just turn them loose afterwards. Caine is shaking his head. "I dunno. I just know that something isn't right. Please, can you come look at him?" <<include "cainechoice">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I don\'t know... I don\'t think I could do anything to help him." </div>' 'idontknowcaine1'>><<setcompassionate -1>><<setcunning +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Sure, I might as well take a look." </div>' 'surecaine1'>><<setcompassionate +2>><<setcourage +1>><<settrouble +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"No. This isn\'t a Shepherd problem."</div>' 'sorrycaine1'>><<setloyal +2>><<setcompassionate -3>><<settrouble -5>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"Oh, come on, <<c firstname>>, have a heart," Trouble butts in. "It's not like we have anything better to do, anyway." He turns to Caine. "Lead the way, kid. We'll take a look at your friend." You shoot him a glance. "This wouldn't be considered Shepherd work." He grins broadly and winks at you. "Then it's a good thing no one around here's gonna punish you for slacking off." He gestures to Caine. "Go on. We're following you." Caine's entire face brightens. "Thank you!" He darts off as he leads you back through the wending avenues of the city. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "woolery">><</link>></center>

"You don't have to come along," you tell Trouble hastily. "I'm aware that this could very well be something mundane—not Shepherd work. But I think it must be serious, if Caine thought to come and get me. <<nobr>><<if $specialization is "healer">> Especially if the boy needs someone like a Healer."<<else>> I might be able to help."<</if>><</nobr>> Trouble shrugs indulgently. "You're lucky Blade isn't here," he drawls, "but <i>I</i> don't care. Hael, I might as well come with. It's not as if we have anything better to do." The two of you follow Caine back through the wending avenues of the city. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "woolery">><</link>></center>

Caine's face falls. "Oh, have a heart, <<c firstname>>," Trouble cuts in, exasperated. "It's not like we have anything better to do." He turns to Caine. "Lead the way, kid. If <<c firstname>> can't help you, I'll at least take a look." Caine's entire face brightens. "Oh, thank you, sir!" You shoot the sharpshooter a glance. "Would Blade consider this Shepherd work?" He grins broadly and winks at you. "Dunno. It's a good thing Blade isn't here, isn't it?" He gestures to Caine. "Go on. I'm following you." Then he glances at you idly from over his shoulder. "Coming, recruit?" You roll your eyes as you follow your second-in-command back through the wending avenues of the city. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "woolery">><</link>></center>

At the woolery, you find Caine's friend sitting on a pile of raw wool. The air is musty with the damp animal scent of the material as a few laborers work to spin it into plain cloth. Caine's friend, Hal, seems oblivious to the great noise and bustle of work all around him. He only sits there, dull-eyed, and nestles further into his pile of wool. You examine him critically. The boy is about Caine's age, no older than twelve or thirteen, with the thin, scrawny bird-build of boys that age and a tuft of wild brown hair. He doesn't look injured or hurt in any way: you can see no bruises or scars that would indicate a beating or some other type of physical trauma. And yet the boy is completely catatonic, responding to neither your cautious inquiries nor Caine's impatient bellowing. "You see?" he says, turning to you. "Something isn't right with him." "And he wasn't always like this?" Trouble asks, scratching his chin. "He's not just maybe slow?" Caine shakes his head vigorously. You notice he's seemed to have picked up the city burr now that he's spent more time in Haven. "Naw! He used to talk even more than me, before he went away." He turns back to his friend. "Right, Hal? You can tell the Shepherds what happened, can't you?" The boy murmurs something, but it's too inaudible to hear. Hmm. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Shake the boy roughly. Maybe that will snap him out of it.</div>' 'shakehal'>><<setstrength +1>><<setcompassionate -1>><<setcharisma -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Reach out to the boy with your magic. Maybe it will tell you if he\'s been infected by a demon. </div>' 'magichal'>><<setmagic +1>><<setpsionic +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Try to persuade the boy to talk to you. Maybe he\'s only frightened. </div>' 'talkhal'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

You grab Hal by his thin shoulders and shake him vigorously. His head bobs back and forth violently with the motion, but otherwise the boy doesn't react. "Here, careful now," Trouble says uneasily. "You don't want to hurt the kid." <<include "troubleeye">>

You close your eyes and send out an investigative tendril of your magic towards Hal, searching for any hint of demonic influence on him. You feel around for a moment, probing. No, you catch no indication that he's had any contact with an Endarkened at all—but there <i>is</i> something unnatural there. Something you've never encountered before. It's almost the feeling you get when you're opening your senses to another nearby Mage, but also very different: there's something incomplete about this, something jarring and twisted and malformed. Like going to shake hands with somebody, only to unexpectedly come in contact with a metal hook instead of a hand. You open your eyes and quietly tell Trouble what you've found. He frowns. "And you don't know what it could be?" "No. I've never felt anything like it." <<include "troubleeye">>

You bend so that you're at the boy's eye level. "You can talk to us, Hal," you tell him kindly. "We're here to help you—we're friends of Caine. And we promise you won't get in trouble if you tell us what's going on with you. We only want to help." Hal just stares forward, his jaw slack. "Well, if his friend couldn't get him to talk, I doubt he'd be persuaded by even you," Trouble comments. "Or me, not with my scary mug." <<include "troubleeye">>

You're walking with the bored gunslinger on patrol when you hear a voice call out Trouble's name. You turn. There's a stout woman standing there at the end of the alley, breathing heavily, her cheeks flushed with exertion. She wears the simple clothing of a laundress—something her powerful arms also attest to. When you glance at Trouble, you see that he recognizes the woman. "Hey, Arta," he says. "What brings you to this part of town?" The woman bustles up to you, holding up her skirts. "Your quartermaster said you'd be around these parts," she gasps. "Take a moment to catch your breath," Trouble tells her. Slowly you notice that a furrow of concern is showing on his face. "She's a friend of my mum's," he tells you as Arta takes several deep breaths. "Always tried to help me out when I was a kid, even though she didn't have much herself. Lives in Smoketown." To Arta he says, "What's toward?" She finally straightens, and you can see the distress and fear stamped on her face. "It's Hal," she says. "Something's not right with him." "Her son," Trouble explains to you. He frowns at her. "Not right, how?" "It's like this," Arta begins, wiping at her reddening face. "In Smoketown there's been kids runnin' off. I didn't think much of it—there's always a scamp or two that comes back—but then my own Hal didn't come home one night. That's when I knew something tweren't right. <i>My</i> boy wouldn't leave home like that, and scare me to death." "So I spent the next two sennights looking for him, high and low. Damn near scratched the eyes out of those Vice Guards, who laughed when I asked them to help." She frowns, then shakes her head. "Finally I found him a few days ago, dumped on my very own doorstep, barely breathin'. I bore him inside and swaddled him and looked after him, and he's—he seems stronger now. But he won't breathe a word about what happened to him. And he's <i>strange</i>." "What do you mean, strange?" you ask. She presses her knuckles fretfully against her mouth. "I don't have the words to describe it," she says. She turns her beseeching gaze to Trouble. "Please, will you come have a look at the boy?" You glance at Trouble, who looks deep in thought. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"It\'s not a Shepherd\'s concern." </div>' 'itsnotshepworktrouble1'>><<settrouble -5>><<setcompassionate -2>><<setloyal +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Has the boy seen a Healer?" </div>' 'hastheboyseenahealertrouble1'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You should help your friend." </div>' 'youshouldhelpyourfriendtrouble1'>><<setcompassionate +2>><<setcharisma +1>><<settrouble +3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"There's no evidence of demonic influence," you tell him. "It's not Shepherd work." Trouble half-glares at you. "Shepherds handle all manner of uncanny things, not just Endarkened kak," he tells you simmeringly. "And I wouldn't be going as a Shepherd. I'd be going as a friend." His gold-blue eyes flick towards Arta. "Besides, who's to say our patrol won't take us over to Smoketown anyway?" "Because we're supposed to be patrolling Ashtown today." "Good thing I'm in command, then," he says, lifting his brows. "Guess that means I can decide to patrol anywhere I want." Your opposition seems to solidify his resolve: he turns to Arta and says, "Lead the way. We'll have a look at the boy." You try not to roll your eyes as Arta clasps Trouble's hand gratefully and leads you back through the wending avenues of the city. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "halpossessed">><</link>></center>

Trouble glances at you sidelong, but it's a look of approval and appreciation. "Agreed," he says warmly. "Lead the way, Arta." Arta clasps his hand with gratitude. "Oh, thank you, Trouble." She looks at you as well. "Thank you, to both of you. I knew the Shepherds would help." You follow her as Arta leads you back through the wending avenues of the city. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "halpossessed">><</link>></center>

Arta glances over at you, as if wondering for the first time who you are. "Aye, he saw one," she answers guardedly. "Healer said Hal is fine body-wise. But he couldn't say what else could be ailing him." She shakes her head, her eyes a little wild. "But a mother <i>knows</i>. His bones might be sound, but something else is wrong with him!" Trouble rubs the back of his neck. "I'll take a look at the boy." He glances at you sidelong. "You don't mind, do you, $firstname? We were going to take our patrol over there, anyway. Shouldn't take long." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Actually, I do mind. </div>' 'actuallyidomindtrouble1'>><<setcompassionate -5>><<settrouble -5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">I don\'t mind at all. </div>' 'idontmindtrouble1'>><<setcompassionate +3>><<settrouble +1>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

It isn't Shepherd work, after all—or at least you don't think it is. But with Blade out of town, Trouble is acting commander: this is probably just a rhetorical question, considering you have no real say in the matter. So you just shrug and stay pointedly silent. Trouble frowns, but he turns back to Arta and says, "Lead the way." She clasps his hand. "Oh, thank you, Trouble. I knew you would help." You close your mouth against your own protests as Arta leads you back through the wending avenues of the city. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "halpossessed">><</link>></center>

Trouble grins at you. "Knew you wouldn't," he says with a warm smile. Then he turns back to Arta. "All right, Arta. Lead the way." She clasps his hand gratefully. "Oh, thank you, Trouble." She glances at you, too. "Thank you to both of you. I knew the Shepherds could help." You follow her as Arta leads you back through the wending avenues of the city. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "halpossessed">><</link>></center>

Smoketown's name is fitting: this tier of the city is filled with a constant haze, not thick smoke necessarily but a veil of dirty air that rasps against your lungs and makes your face feel both dry and grimy. You follow Arta through the dizzying array of shacks and shanties, stacked crazily on top of each other so that they line the district like rows of uneven teeth. Finally she abruptly turns into a little hovel, indistinct from the rest. Hal is sitting inside on his thin bed, motionless. You examine him critically. The boy is about twelve or thirteen, with the thin, scrawny bird-build of boys that age and a tuft of wild brown hair. He doesn't look injured or hurt in any way: you can see no bruises or scars that would indicate a beating or some other type of physical trauma. And yet the boy is completely catatonic, responding to neither your cautious inquiries nor Trouble's snapping fingers in front of his face. His mother turns to you. "You see? He's afflicted with something." She stoops to peer worriedly into Hal's face. "I've brought Shepherds to see you, son. Can't you tell them what's happened to you?" Hal murmurs something, but it's too inaudible for you to hear. Hmm. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Shake the boy roughly. Maybe that will snap him out of it.</div>' 'shakehal'>><<setstrength +1>><<setcompassionate -1>><<setcharisma -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Reach out to the boy with your magic. Maybe it will tell you if he\'s been infected by a demon. </div>' 'magichal'>><<setmagic +1>><<setpsionic +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Try to persuade the boy to talk to you. Maybe he\'s only frightened. </div>' 'talkhal2'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

You bend so that you're at the boy's eye level. "You can talk to us, Hal," you tell him kindly. "We're here to help you—we're friends of your mother. And we promise you won't get in trouble if you tell us what's going on with you. We only want to help." Hal just stares forward, his jaw slack. "Well, if his own mother couldn't get him to talk, I doubt he'd be persuaded by even you," Trouble comments. "Or me, not with my scary mug." <<include "troubleeye">>

<<nobr>><<if $cainesafe or $bothsafe>> He moves you aside to take a closer look at Hal himself, though you don't know what Trouble will find that you couldn't. You look away to gauge your surroundings: could something in the environment have caused this reaction in Hal? Some type of fume that addled his brain, some hidden abuse that Caine is oblivious to? <<else>> He moves you aside to take a closer look at Hal himself, though you don't know what Trouble will find that you couldn't. You look away to gauge your surroundings: could something in the environment have caused this reaction in Hal? Some type of fume that addled his brain, some hidden abuse that Arta is oblivious to? <</if>><</nobr>> It's not until you hear Trouble suck in a hard breath that you drag your eyes back to Hal. The sharpshooter has tilted the boy's head back and is peering closely into his face. Both of them have gone quite still. When you take a step to look closer, you finally see what's stopped Trouble dead in his tracks. There's a corona of gold around Hal's pupils, easily missed because his eyes are hazel. But some intuitive sense tells you that that golden color isn't natural—more, it's <i>familiar</i>. It's the exact same marking that rings <i>Trouble's</i> eyes. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "behindthesetroubleseyes">><</link>></center>

"It's the Equalists," Trouble rants later, after storming back to the Shepherds' compound. He slams down his rifle onto the table and kicks aside a nearby chair. "It's the God-damned, pig-fucking, <i>kisich</i>-worm Equalists!" "Calm down," you tell him, just as Tallys comes into the room with her eyebrows raised. "Who are the Equalists?" Trouble rips off the glove from his left hand and throws it onto the table, holding his palm out to you. "<i>This</i> is the Equalists!" You stare. Carved in a ragged scar onto Trouble's palm is the emblem of an arcane rune, vaguely star-shaped, within a circle. <<if $arcane gte 20 or $specialization is "binder">> You think it might be a sigil for strength or power in the old Mage script. <</if>> Something about looking at the scar makes your eyes ache and the back of your head itch; although the mark seems old, the scar tissue white and faded, something about it feels unnatural. Wounding. The room goes quiet. Tallys says softly, "What is that?" "<i>That</i> is the work of the Equalists," Trouble says, his voice low and furious now. He suddenly drops his hand and puts his glove back on, avoiding your gaze. "You remember how I told you I used to be in a gang here in Haven?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $troubletime gte 1>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Yes."</div>' 'yestroublegang'>><<settrouble +1>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>><<else>><<disabled "Yes.">><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"No." </div>' 'notroublegang'>><<if $troubletime gte 1>><<settrouble -3>><</if>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Trouble shakes his head. "But I never said how I left," he says in a low voice, averting his gaze. "I don't like to talk about it—it wasn't in the best circumstances." <<nobr>><<if $intelligence gte 15>> "Something to do with these Equalists?" you guess. <<else>> "Something to do with these Equalists?" Tallys guesses.<</if>><</nobr>> Trouble nods. "One day when I was fifteen, me and the gang were out, running a scattershot. That was the name for when we hit multiple targets all over the city, so if the Vice Guard came, they couldn't get all of us at once. We only took a few things from each place—then, when we pooled it all together, we generally had enough to feed each of us." He shakes his head. "I drew the unlucky straw of stealing from Yevi, the butcher. He was waiting for us, though; clubbed me over the head before I even made it one step into his shop." He looks bitter. "I don't blame him. If I were him, I'd kill to protect my own livelihood, too—especially from a young kakhead like me." He sighs and rubs the back of his head, as if remembering the old wound. "But I suppose he hit me too hard. I was only a kid, see. Wasn't as hardheaded back then as I am now. And I guess he thought he killed me—bleeding from the skull as I was, and all. So good old Yevi panicked, took me out into the alley, and dumped me there to rot." "Gods above," Tallys whispers. Trouble doesn't look at her, as if made uncomfortable by her sympathetic gaze. "Anyway, I don't know much about what happened after that. Next thing I knew, I was waking up in the hideout of the Equalists." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "equalistsintro">><</link>></center>

<<if $troubletime gte 1>>Trouble rolls his eyes. <</if>>"My mother died when I was young," he tells you. "I was tossed out into the street to fend for myself—and I was forced to take up with a gang of street rats and hoodlums to survive. One day, when I was fifteen, I was out with them—we were running a scattershot—and we were supposed to steal from multiple targets from all over the city, at the same time, so the Vice Guard couldn't catch us all." He shakes his head. "I had the unlucky opportunity of stealing from Yevi, this butcher who hated our guts. But he was waiting for me—clubbed me over the head before I even made it one step into his shop." He looks bitter. "I don't blame him. If I were him, I'd kill to protect my own livelihood, too—especially from a kakhead like me." He sighs and rubs the back of his head, as if remembering the old wound. "But I suppose he hit me too hard. I was only a kid, see. Wasn't as hardheaded back then as I am now. And I guess he thought he killed me—bleeding from the skull as I was, and all. So good old Yevi panicked, took me out into the alley, and dumped me there to rot." "Gods above," Tallys whispers. Trouble doesn't look at her, as if made uncomfortable by her sympathetic gaze. "Anyway, I don't know much about what happened after that. Next thing I knew, I was waking up in the hideout of the Equalists." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "equalistsintro">><</link>></center>

"So who are they?" you ask. Trouble's eyes burn with hatred. "They're cowards, is what they are," he answers. "Mages—a society of Mages and madmen. They think—they want everybody to have the Gift, in some way or another. They want to slowly convert the entire population into magical Diminished, make them <i>equal</i>. They think that if everyone has the 'blessing' of magic, then the Autarchy can't persecute Mages anymore, since <i>everyone</i> will be a Mage. And the Norms can finally be equal to all the others, to make it fair. That's what the Castigation was about, right? That inequality, that unfairness? The Norms getting all sore that they weren't granted powers like everyone else? So if the Equalists can fix that gap, everything will be fine between us, and all of the world's problems will be fixed. At the very least, the Inquisitors won't be able to execute Mages anymore: not when their own children, spouses, and what have you have been turned into Mages themselves." He looks disgusted. "Using that logic, they kidnap Norm kids from the streets—kids they think no one will miss—and experiment on them, trying to force magical ability onto them." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"It makes sense, in a twisted kind of way."' 'inatwistedsense'>><<setcunning +1>><<settrouble -3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"How would they even do that?"' 'inatwistedsense2'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"That\'s one of the worst things I\'ve ever heard."' 'inatwistedsense3'>><<setcompassionate +2>><</link>></li> </ul>

Trouble looks at you in disgust. "Only if you're a lunatic," he answers. "You can't <i>force</i> a Norm to have magical powers. It's like sewing wings onto a horse and expecting it to fly." <<include "equalistsescape">>

Trouble shakes his head in disgust. "Don't ask me," he says darkly. "They didn't exactly explain the logistics of what they were doing to their victims. All I know is the spells they used on me were… torturous. I've got all manner of weird energy swirling around me because of it." "Is that how you got your scar?" you ask. Trouble nods. "That, and my eyes. It's a mark of how they change you." <<include "equalistsescape">>

You're appalled: a society of rogue, cultist Mages kidnapping innocent Norm children to torture and mutate into Diminished? It's a horrible abuse of power—and more, it seems to fit exactly the kind of propaganda the Autarchy loves to spew. "They sully the name of Mages everywhere," you say angrily. "Yes, I'm surprised you don't hate them all, after what's been done to you," Tallys comments. Trouble frowns a little. "I at least have more sense than that," he says. "If you two don't hate me for all the things Norms have done to you, I can't hate Mages for what one group has done to me." <<include "equalistsescape">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "equalistsescape2">><</link>></center>

"So how did you escape their clutches?" Tallys asks. Trouble shrugs. "I wasn't there long before the Inquisitors got wind of what was going on and raided their hideout," he says. "One of the only things the Inquisitors were ever really good for. All of us kids who were there were freed, tested by the Autarch's Mages, and cleared as still… mostly normal. Not a threat, anyway. Then they just tossed us back to the streets because they didn't know what else to do with us." He runs a hand through his hair. "…I'd thought all of the Equalists died that night. I guess not." You and Tallys exchange glances as Trouble lapses into deep silence. Then the Elf folds her arms and says, "Explain to me why you think they've come back now?" She listens as you and Trouble bring her up to speed on Hal. "That's no proof that the Equalists have returned," she says after you're done explaining. "Just because his eyes look different?" "The pattern matches," Trouble retorts fiercely, his temper flaring again. "Poor and destitute Norm kid disappears for a few sennights? Only shows up again, changed and traumatized—and with the same markings that <i>I</i> got after my run-in with them?" Tallys shakes her head. "That's still some very circumstantial evidence. And why won't Hal just confirm that theory? And how did he escape? Surely they wouldn't just let him go?" Trouble throws a look at you. "<i>You</i> talk some sense into her, <<c firstname>>." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'I think Tallys is right...' 'tallysside1'>><<settallys +5>><<settrouble -5>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'I think Trouble is right...' 'troublesside1'>><<settrouble +5>><<settallys -5>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'I remain silent.' 'speaknoworholdyourpeace1'>><<settrouble -5>><<settallys -5>><<setcunning +1>><<setcourage -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

You shrug. "I just don't think there's enough evidence to say definitively it's the Equalists. There could be other reasons for why Hal turned out this way. He could have run away, been abused or hurt by someone else..." "And sometimes one's eye color changes," Tallys points out. "It's not always evidence of an evil cult that was destroyed years ago." Trouble glowers. "I don't <i>need</i> evidence," he growls. "I <i>know</i> it's them. I feel it in my gut." <<include "equalistsevidence">>

"I think Trouble's on to something," you state. "Hal <i>did</i> have the same look in his eyes. You can't really explain that any other way. And it would make sense, considering the story of his disappearance." Trouble gives you a grateful look, but Tallys says in a flat tone, "Not really. All we know is that the boy disappeared, and no one knows where he went. That doesn't mean he was kidnapped or held captive, and while his eyes might have changed color, you'd be laughed out of a tribunal for pointing to that as actual evidence of an evil cult." "What about the fact that he's not talking?" Trouble demands stubbornly. "If he'd simply run away, do you think he'd have ended up like that?" <<include "equalistsevidence">>

<<include "equalistsevidence">>

Tallys shakes her head. "It doesn't matter," she says. "Even if it <i>was</i> the Equalists, it's not as if we can do anything about it." <i>That</i> sends Trouble into apoplexy; you can almost feel the heat of his anger blasting from him in waves. His eyes seem to spark dangerously. "<i>What?</i>" "It's not our business," Tallys reiterates, spreading her hands. "Tell it to the Inquisitors, maybe, and let them deal with it—but a bunch of rogue Mages, if it's really the Equalists, are still not Endarkened. Hal is not possessed, is he?" You glance at each other. "Not as far as I'm aware," you say. Tallys nods. "So it's not our responsibility. The Shepherds were formed to deal with the Endarkened and Endarkened-related threats. This isn't one of them." "The Shepherds were formed to deal with <i>any</i> supernatural threat," Trouble fires back. "Diminished, demon, or otherwise. That was the whole point: to fight magic with magic, fire with fire. If rogue Mages go on a rampage, Norm soldiers don't stand a chance. That's why the Shepherds were formed—because we're the only ones who could." He glares at her. "It is our business." "<i>If</i> you can prove it's the Equalists," Tallys retorts, folding her arms. "Which you can't. You have only a hunch to work off of, and if you don't do your due diligence and provide real, hard evidence—or if you're simply wrong—the Inquisitors or the Vice Guard are going to have a field day with the idea of us interfering in their jurisdiction based on nothing but a blind guess. How do you think that will look—barging in and claiming that a boy's disappearance must be the work of Mages, with no actual proof that he was even <i>kidnapped</i>, so therefore it must be our case alone? And how do you think they'll see it, when they realize the charge is being led by someone who was a personal victim of the Equalists himself? You'd look like an <i>uskeche</i>."<<if $heritage is "Elf">> This is an Elvish term for 'one who sees ghosts that aren't really there.'<<else>> She pauses to allow the weight of her words to sink in.<</if>> "Do you really want to jeopardize our reputation on something so thin? Is it worth it?" For a long moment, taut, furious silence reigns. You're wondering if you should get in the middle of this: Trouble, after all, is Vice-Commander and in charge of the Shepherds while Blade is gone, but Tallys certainly outranks him in terms of outright seniority and experience—and the fact that she's remaining so cool-headed is certainly a mark in her favor. Personal vendettas and past traumas <i>can</i> cloud people's thinking... as you well know. "Why are you being so callous about this?" the sharpshooter asks her finally. "Is it because the victims are Norms? Is that why you don't give a shit?" A wall slams down behind Tallys's eyes. "That isn't it." "It is," Trouble accuses, vehement. "If it was a sad little Elf or some orphaned Hunters, you'd be all over this. But because it's Norms, you're thinking, 'it's a Norm problem, so let the Norms deal with it without risking <i>my</i> hide.' Right? Or maybe you even think they deserve it, so they can get a taste for how the Diminished suffer every day?" "That's unfair," Tallys says quietly, but she doesn't say anything more to dispute Trouble's accusations. Suddenly it seems as if she's retreated into herself, her shoulders hunching, but Trouble is relentless. "A lot of things are unfair," he tells her, throwing his hands into the air. "And we <i>all</i> have to deal with that." Then he wheels around to lock eyes with you. "I'm going back to see Hal. He might be able to give me a lead on where the Equalists are hiding out. And if you're a good Shepherd—no, a good person—you'll come with me, <<c firstname>>." Then he storms out of the room. After a moment of silence, Tallys also turns and leaves, her eyes downcast as she wraps her arm around to hug herself. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Follow Trouble.' 'followtrouble'>><<set $troubleequalist to true>><<settrouble +10>><<settallys -10>><<set $troublestatus to "He's grateful to you for supporting him.">><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Follow Tallys.' 'followtallys'>><<set $tallysequalist to true>><<settallys +10>><<settrouble -10>><<set $tallysstatus to "She's grateful to you for supporting her.">><</link>></li> </ul>

You hurry to catch up with Trouble's long-legged strides as the sharpshooter sets off down the streets of Haven. By now, evening has fallen; lamplighters move down the street, laboriously lighting Ashtown's few streetlamps with wicks on long poles. The noise of the day's crowds has receded. Now most of Witchtown's Diminished are inside, enjoying dinners with their families or commiserating over drinks with their fellow workers. Trouble strides down the avenue, oblivious to it all. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Trouble, wait."' 'troublewaitupboi'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Slow down, I\'m on your side."' 'slowdowntroubleboi'>><<settrouble +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You shouldn\'t have said that to Tallys. It was unfair."' 'unfairtroubleboi'>><<settrouble -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Trouble glances back at you; his face relaxes only slightly when he notices you following him, but his eyes still blaze with the heat of his anger. "<<c firstname>>," he says. "Figured you would come. You're one of the good ones." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I\'m coming because it\'s my duty."' 'itsmydutytrouble'>><<setloyal +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'m coming because I\'m curious."' 'imcurioustrouble'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'m coming to support you."' 'tosupportyoutroubleboi'>><<settrouble +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'m coming because I\'m worried about Hal and the other victims."' 'worriedabouthal'>><<setcompassionate +2>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'m only coming because I have nothing better to do."' 'nothingbettertodotrouble'>><<settrouble -3>><<setloyal -3>><<setcompassionate -3>><</link>></li> </ul>

"The Shepherds are sworn to protect the innocent," you tell him. "I can't turn away now." Trouble nods. "Like I said," he says gruffly. "One of the good ones." <<include "troubleequalistsmore">>

"I want to know if you're right, and if it really is the Equalists," you tell him. "And if they're really trying to force magical ability onto these kids." Trouble frowns at you slightly. "You've got a morbid sense of curiosity, <<c firstname>>," he says. "Though I suppose I can't complain." <<include "troubleequalistsmore">>

Trouble looks back and stares at you. "You are?" You nod. "You need my support—and I can't let you go walking off all half-cocked. Especially into the lair of some nasty rogue Mages." Trouble grins, just briefly. "Well, I appreciate your loyalty, <<c firstname>>," he says. "I'll remember it in the future." <<include "troubleequalistsmore">>

Trouble glances back at you. "He's a kid you barely know," he points out. You stare back at him. "So?" Then Trouble grins. "Like I said," he says, looking away after a moment. He seems a little pleased. "You're one of the good ones." <<include "troubleequalistsmore">>

Trouble stares at you. "You can't be serious." You shrug. "You want my help, don't you?" Trouble rolls his eyes. "I suppose so," he answers. "Though now I wonder if I'd be better off without it." <<include "troubleequalistsmore">>

Trouble turns his head to look at you, and for a brief moment he smiles, like a sunburst flashing out from behind a bank of clouds. He slows his pace so that you can catch up to him. "Thanks, <<c firstname>>," he says quietly. "I know you are." Then he looks away. "I wish I could say the same about the rest of the Shepherds." <<include "troubleequalistsmore">>

Trouble glances back at you, but doesn't slow his pace. "You think I was wrong?" he asks you. You nod. "Yes, I do. Tallys wasn't being a bigot or unfair. She was just analyzing the situation the way anyone would." He shakes his head. "You heard her," he says. "First she thought it wasn't the Equalists, then she said that even if it was the Equalists, we'd have nothing to do with it. What does she think the Shepherds are for? We're not just here to fight demons. We're here to keep things balanced between the Diminished and the Norms. If there's a group of rogue Mages out there, it's our job to stop them. Who else would have the power to? The Vice Guard?" "That doesn't mean you have to resort to name-calling," you tell him. "We can talk about our course of action without getting personal." Trouble turns away, though you can tell he's disgruntled. "I said what I said," he says shortly. "Let it be done." <<include "troubleequalistsmore">>

He lapses into silence again as the two of you make your way back to Smoketown. You notice his gloved fist clenching and unclenching as he walks; his head swivels around and watches the night crowds, as if he'll catch an Equalist snatching away a child at any moment. After a moment you break the silence. <<include "troubleexplore">>

<div class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("socanyouusemagic")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"So <i>can</i> you use magic?" </div>' 'socanyouusemagic'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("wherearetheothervictims")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"Where are the other victims who were rescued with you from the Equalists?" </div>' 'wherearetheothervictims'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("howdidyouendupjoining")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"How did you end up joining the Shepherds after what happened to you?"</div>' 'howdidyouendupjoining'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("areyougoingtobeallright")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"Are you going to be all right?"</div>' 'areyougoingtobeallright'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Continue walking in silence.</div>' 'hal2'>><</link>>

Trouble frowns. "Not in the conventional sense," he answers. "I can't consciously cast any spells. But I'm pretty sure my abilities have been—augmented, in some way or another. I can see way better than I used to. And when I shoot a gun, I can… <i>will</i> the bullet to my target, sort of. That's a kind of magic, right?" "But I've seen you miss," you point out. He shakes his head. "I try not to use the ability as much as possible," he answers. "All magic has a price to pay. For Mages, it's energy, or willpower, or whatever. But for me, I don't feel anything when I'm using… whatever it is. And that creeps me out." He rubs the back of his neck. "What cost am I paying for what the Equalists did to me against my will? Am I selling my soul to Tapyt? Am I shaving a year off my lifespan every time I use the ability? I just don't know." <ul class ="choices"> <li><<link '"I wish you\'d told me sooner."' 'iwishyoudtoldmesooner'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Is there any way to reverse the process?"' 'isthereanywaytoreverse'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You should look at it as a gift."' 'youshouldlookatit'>><<settrouble -10>><</link>></li> </ul>

Trouble pulls a face. "I can't say I'm sorry," he admits. "It's a part of my past that I don't like reliving." Then he casts a dark look at the streets around him. "When I don't have to, anyway." <<include "troubleexplore">>

Trouble shakes his head. "If there is, I haven't found it," he answers. "I'd guess not. I've just got to live with it." Then he casts a dark glance at the streets around him. "But that doesn't mean I'll let others suffer the same fate." <<include "troubleexplore">>

"It's enabled you to save others in your role as a Shepherd," you note. Trouble scowls at you. "I'd have preferred to do that the natural way," he spits. "I can live with what's been done to me, <<c firstname>>, but I don't have to be <i>grateful</i> for it." <<include "troubleexplore">>

Trouble shrugs. "Hael if I know," he answers. "They all scattered to the winds once the Inquisitors turned us loose. Most of them were orphans like me—unwanted kids, urchins that no one would miss. I'm sure most of them have died since then." <<include "troubleexplore">>

Trouble shakes his head. "Couldn't go back to my old gang like that," he says, looking away. "By then they thought I was dead, and they'd been absorbed into another group. It wouldn't have been the same, anyway. So I took up some mercenary work for a few years, working as a soldier-for-hire around Blest. Then I met Blade, and a little while after that he invited me to join the Order." He looks briefly grim. "You know, I decided to join because I wanted to prevent what happened to me from happening to other helpless innocents. I wanted to stop the abuse of magic, Endarkened tragedies, and all that. But I never expected the Equalists to actually <i>return</i>. And now they've fallen right into the Order's lap?" His mouth twists. "Doesn't it feel like fate?" <<include "troubleexplore">>

Trouble looks at you. "What d'you mean?" "This is a pretty traumatic part of your past," you tell him. "Will you be able to handle it—or should I go on alone?" Trouble's eyes sharpen. "I appreciate the thought, <<c firstname>>," he says tightly. "But if you think I'm sitting this one out, you're madder than the Autarch's son." Which doesn't answer your question, you note. But you choose not to press the issue further. <<include "troubleexplore">>

It begins to drizzle lightly, then rain—fat drops of water strike your face with surprising force, and you pull up your hood to keep the downpour from your eyes. Beside you, Trouble's cloak steams: his very skin seems to sizzle with his determination and anger. Finally, you reach Hal's home in Smoketown. Here, the streets are almost completely empty, drained of the usual deluge of factory workers and laborers that shuffle to work each day. It gives the rain-drenched night an eerie feeling: the towers and chimney pipes of Smoketown look like dark monoliths, silently keeping watch over you. Inside, Hal is as unresponsive as ever, even when Trouble bends down in front of him and tells the boy quietly that he knows about the Equalists. He even removes his glove to show Hal the scar on his palm—but the boy doesn't even blink. He just keeps staring forward, expression blank. "He hasn't said a word still," his mother says doubtfully. "Not to me, not to his friends, not even to the Healer." "He's traumatized," you say, watching him. "Can't a Healer fix that?" "Sometimes… but Healing doesn't take away memories. Sometimes the wounds go too deep to be solved in a few minutes. Sometimes it can take months. Even years." Trouble looks up at you, looking both frustrated and helpless. "But we don't have that long," he says. "There's gotta be other kids—and right now they're suffering at the hands of those bastards. Hal's our only way to get to them." Hal's mother, watching from the corner of the room, spreads her hands. "I'm sorry. If I knew anything—if he'd said anything—" You stand there for a moment, thinking. The situation seems urgent: what will you do to learn the truth? <<include "searchfortruth">>

<<nobr>><<if $charisma gte 22 and $compassionate gte 55>> You kneel down so that you're at Hal's eye level. <br><br> "Hal," you begin quietly, gently, so as not to spook the boy, "I understand that you've been through a lot. And that you might be frightened, or… traumatized. But we're trying to find the ones who did this to you. They might have other children. Do you think you could try to help us help them?" <br><br> For a moment, Hal doesn't speak. But you sense a kind of stirring behind his eyes: something kindling to life. You decide to push further. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Don\'t you want to punish those who hurt you?"' 'dontyouwanttopunish'>><<setcompassionate -2>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Don\'t you want to help those other children?"' 'dontyouwanttopunish'>><<setcompassionate +2>><</link>></li> </ul> <<else>> You kneel down so that you're at Hal's eye level. <br><br> "Hal," you begin quietly, gently, so as not to spook the boy, "I understand that you've been through a lot. And that you might be frightened, or… traumatized. But we're trying to find the ones who did this to you. They might have other children. Do you think you could try to help us help them?" <br><br> Hal's mouth twitches… but in the end he says nothing. He just keeps staring forward. You sigh and look up at Trouble, who shakes his head. <<include "searchfortruth">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Hal's mouth contorts suddenly, and he takes a rasping breath, as if his lungs are constricted. Finally he grits out, with enormous difficulty: "…atacombs." "What? What?" Trouble asks, suddenly alert. Behind him, Arta covers her mouth. "What did he say?" "Catacombs…" Hal says again. He struggles to speak, as if he's not fully in control of himself. "…Hightown. Under…ground." His fists ball. "Get… those bastards…" Then his head slumps down onto his chest, and he says no more. Arta pushes you aside to envelop her son in her arms. <<include "almostcompound">>

Hal's mouth twitches, and he takes a rasping breath, as if his lungs are constricted. Finally he grits out, with enormous difficulty: "…atacombs." "What? What?" Trouble asks, suddenly alert. Behind him, Arta covers her mouth. "What did he say?" "Catacombs…" Hal says again. He struggles to speak, as if he's not fully in control of himself. "…Hightown. Under…ground." His fists ball. "Save… them…" Then his head slumps down onto his chest, and he says no more. Arta pushes you aside to envelop her son in her arms. <<include "almostcompound">>

<<nobr>><<if ($compassionate lte 47 and $psionic gte 25) or ($specialization is "diviner") or ($specialization is "enchanter")>> <<include "halmemory">> <<else>> You tilt Hal's chin upwards so you can see his strange, changed eyes. He stares up at you, his expression first blank, but as you reach towards his mind with your magic—a scalding, scouring probe, rooting through his memories—he begins to react. His face contorts as he recognizes your mental touch, and he tears his face out of your hand suddenly, crying out. His thoughts slam shut against you: someone has invaded the boy's mind before, and he has built a resistance to the intrusion. <br><br> You step back and take a breath as Hal turns his face to the wall and begins to cry; his mother hurries towards him and folds him into her big arms. You weren't strong enough to read his memories, after all. <br><br> Trouble stares at you. "What was that just now?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Don\'t worry about it."' 'dontworryaboutit'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I tried to read his mind. He\'s not open to it."' 'itriedtoreadhismind'>><</link>></li> </ul> <</if>><</nobr>>

Trouble gives you a strange look, but turns back to Hal and says nothing more. <<include "searchfortruth">>

"I don't think <i>anyone</i> would be, let alone a kid who's been through what he has!" the sniper exclaims, appalled. You raise an eyebrow at him. "I thought you said we needed to get the information from him, no matter what. For the other children?" Trouble looks away and falls silent. <<include "searchfortruth">>

Trouble turns to you and speaks quietly over the sound of her shuddering sobs. "Well done, recruit," he says. "The catacombs in Hightown, eh? We should have thought of that—they're a damn good place to hide. They sprawl out all the way under Haven like a system of roots. Sometimes scavengers go in there and get lost, it's so big. Or that's what we thought." He shakes his head. "The Equalists have to be there." "How do we reach them?" you ask him. He smiles tightly, and you can see that a strange fire has been kindled in his eyes. "There's an entrance at the Church of the One-God. Let's start there." <<include "equalistscompound">>

You rise. "Hal's in no condition to talk to anyone," you tell Trouble. The boy doesn't stir at the mention of his name. "We shouldn't try to push him—it won't come to anything, and it will only traumatize him further. We should canvass the area and see if we can pick up any clues there." Trouble heaves a sigh. "He was kidnapped sennights ago, so it's doubtful we'll find anything," he mutters. Then he scratches the back of his head. "…But it's worth a try." Arta looks up from preparing a bowl of porridge for Hal. "Be careful," she warns. "And keep a low profile. If there are any of those child-snatchers around, they'll take off at the sight of you." Trouble smiles briefly. "Keeping a low profile is not the easiest thing for me," he admits. Then he gives you a glance of relief. "But at least I have our recruit here to keep me on the right path." He tugs his sun medallion off his neck and slips it into his pocket; you do the same. "Let's go, <<c firstname>>." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "backoutsidetherain">><</link>></center>

Back outside, the rain has increased to a ferocious downpour; you flip the hood of your cloak up to cover your head again, and mutter a simple cantrip to light the slick cobblestones under your feet. Trouble says that you should take the lead with your magelight, but privately you're not sure you'll spot anything in this dark and sodden mess. The two of you trace Hal's route back from the workshop to his home—the likeliest path he was on when he was captured. The streets are empty, most of the homes shut up and dark, and it's an hour of bending in the frigid rain and blinking water out of your eyes before you admit, "…Maybe there's not much to find around here, after all." Trouble wipes his face with the back of his wrist. "There has to be <i>something</i>," he says. He glances around at the darkened windows all around you. "Someone around here must have seen something. Kids are disappearing left and right, not just Hal. Let's start knocking on some doors." You turn to survey the muddy avenue. To the right of you is an inn: though the door is shut, there is a light shining underneath it—and moving shadows beyond. To the left of you is a small house with a candle in the window, though all the other windows are shuttered. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I\'ll take the inn."' 'inn'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'ll take the house."' 'house'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Trouble nods. "I'll take the house, then." <<include "innn">>

<<nobr>><<if $visithouse is true>> Trouble is nowhere to be seen when you approach the little inn: there is only the clatter and rush of the rain to accompany you. You suppress an uneasy twist in your stomach and approach the inn's door. He must have decided to investigate further up the street. <br><br> <</if>><</nobr>>The inn's door doesn't open on your first set of knocks, nor your second, nor your third. It's not until you take a step back to survey the front of the building—contemplating maybe punching through that well-lit windowpane—that your ears catch the sounds of voices, barely audible under the pattering of the rain. They're coming from around the corner, down the alleyway that winds behind the inn: curiosity piqued, you creep a little closer, dampening your magelight and muttering another spell to better your vision. A large, aproned man you presume is the inn's keeper is hanging out of the building's back door; he seems unhappy and tense, glancing around for witnesses as he talks to his visitor. The man addressing him from the alleyway's shadows is tall and sinewy, with a pointed beard and a wicked scar crisscrossing the bridge of his nose. Something about him seems rodent-like to you. Through the rain you hear him whine: "Blast the Autarch's son!" "'Ere now," the innkeeper says sharply. "Watch your mouth. We don't speak 'eresy in these parts." "It isn't heresy, it's truth," the scarred man retorts. "That damned Firstborn's gone and put a bloody curfew in place. I can't leave the city." "Ain't my problem." "Oh, but it is, Filas," the scarred man says, stepping closer. "If I can't leave the city, I can't pick up my shipment—which means my employers will be very, very unhappy. You wouldn't want them to be unhappy, would you?" You think you catch the glint of a knife at his belt. "It'd mean they'd send me back here to collect their… goods." Now the innkeeper looks a little uneasy, but he says, "Yer not taking any more kids from this neighborhood, rat. That poor family 'cross the way's been looking for their little girl for ages…" The "rat" waves a careless hand. "She's in a better place now," he says impatiently. "Better than this shithole, at least." "You thank your lucky stars you're my sister's man. Elsewise I'd kill you on the spot." "I'd like to see you try." Then he glances behind the innkeeper, into the cheery glow of the kitchen. "Where's that apprentice of yours, anyway? How much would you take for him?" The innkeeper gives him a hard shove back into the alleyway before slamming the door in his face. You feel a sudden warmth radiating near your right ear; you turn to find Trouble standing behind you, though where he came from, you don't know. Even through the rain he smells of charch and hot metal. "Very convenient," he mutters, levelly enough—though his gold-ringed eyes are hard and blazing. "The child-snatcher's fallen right into our lap. Blessings upon the Autarch's son." He stares at the man in the alleyway like a lion crouching in grass: the Rat is now angrily pounding on the inn's back door, oblivious to the two of you watching. "Let's get him." <<include "confrontation">>

A brief smile flickers over Trouble's face. "After you, recruit." <<include "confrontation2">>

"We don't know if this is what it looks like," you tell him. "We should wait and watch a little more." Trouble shakes his head. "No way," he growls. "He's looking for a kid to take <i>now</i>. He can lead us right to the Equalists!" Before you can protest, he shoves past you into the alleyway. Rolling your eyes, you dart after him. <<include "confrontation2">>

When the man spots you coming down the alleyway, he turns to run. A quick barrier spell blocks off his escape; he whirls like a cornered animal as you descend on him, wild-eyed, and blurts, "I have money! Take it and leave me be!" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Grab the man by the collar. "We don\'t want your money, rat."' 'grabtheman'>><<set $ratscondition -= 1>><<setstrength +3>><<setcompassionate -5>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Let Trouble grab him by the collar as you hang back.' 'lettroublegrabhim'>><<setcunning +3>><</link>></li> </ul>

You haul the man up by his shirtfront and slam him up against the alley wall. You can feel his breath, hot and rank, against your face: it smells of spoiled meat. "We want information." Trouble whistles softly: a Shepherd signal meaning <i>watch out</i>. You glance down to see the man's hand scrambling for the knife at his belt. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Knock the knife away.' 'knocktheknife'>><<set $ratscondition -= 1>><</link>></li> <<if $astral gte 20 or $specialization is "elementalist">> <li><<link 'Freeze the man in place with an ice spell.' 'freezethemaninplace'>><<set $ratscondition -= 2>><<setmagic +1>><<setastral +1>><</link>></li> <</if>> <<if $psionic gte 20 or $specialization is "enchanter">> <li><<link 'Force the man\'s mind to become docile.' 'forcethemansmind'>><<setpsionic +1>><<setmagic +1>><<set $ratscondition -= 5>><</link>></li> <</if>> </ul>

<<nobr>><<if $strength gte 20>> You easily send the knife spinning off into the darkness. The man yelps and puts his hands up. "I'm sorry!" <<else>> You reach for the knife, but you're not fast enough to get to it before the man does. Before he can draw it, however, Trouble's there, grabbing his wrist and wrenching it back so that the man yelps and whines. "I'm sorry!" he cries. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "interrogate">>

You mutter the spell-word, and instantly the man's body is welded to the wall by a formation of ice: his hand is frozen in place, hovering just inches over the knife. He cries out in shock and panic. "I'm sorry! Please!…" <<include "interrogate">>

You make eye contact with the man and bend your will against his, envisioning casting a net over a frantic, flapping bat; when you tighten your mental hold, he falters, then drops his hand from the knife entirely. He goes limp against the wall, eyes suddenly blank, before murmuring, "…Sorry. I'm sorry." <<include "interrogate">>

Trouble seizes the man by the shirtfront and slams him up against the wall. When the man reaches for the knife at his belt, Trouble bats it away as easily as if he were kicking a ball of thistledown, then growls and hauls the man up even higher. The Rat squirms and thrashes before squeaking out: "Stop! Please! I'm sorry!" <<include "interrogate">>

<<include "interrogation">>

<<nobr>><<if $ratscondition gte 7>> The Rat whimpers, but says nothing. <br><br> <<include "intimidate">> <<else>> Sweat trickles down the man's face, slipping along the puckered grooves of his scar. He doesn't look so tough now, you think. <br><br> "M-my name is Y-Yonni," he snivels. "I'm but a p-poor merchant. New to these parts, from Heth Macoll." <br><br> Trouble growls and crowds closer. "Merchant of children's lives," he snarls. "Peddler of flesh!" <br><br> "Don't you have a family?" you ask the man. "Can't you understand how much pain you've caused?" <br><br> The Rat lets loose a howl of fear as he senses your ire. "P-please…" <br><br> <<include "interrogation">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $ratscondition gte 6>> "Wh-what children?" the Rat asks, feigning innocence. <br><br> Trouble's fist hits the wall right next to his head, cracking the softened brick. "<i>Don't try to play dumb, you fucking zib</i>," he says in a dangerous voice. "We caught you red-handed, talking about it! <i>Now answer the question</i>!" <br><br> "I don't know what you're talking about!" the Rat cries—and says nothing more. <br> <<include "intimidate">> <<else>> The Rat twists against your hold. "You'll hurt me if I tell you…" he snivels. <br><br> Trouble's fist hits the wall right next to his head, cracking the softened brick. "We'll hurt you if you don't," he says in a low, dangerous voice. <br><br> This is enough to convince the Rat. <br><br> "A month, nothing more," he breathes, turning his eyes heavenward as if to pray. <br><br> "How many children have you taken?" you ask him. "How many have you stolen from their homes?" <br><br> "And are you the only one?" Trouble demands. <br><br> The Rat squeezes his eyes shut, then nods. "I-I'm usually the only one," he mumbles. "Sometimes they go out, when they're desperate… but it's m-mostly me." <br><br> "How many children?" you repeat again, putting a little edge into it. <br><br> A hot, wet breath puffs out against your face. "Sixteen," the Rat whispers—but instead of remorse, you read only fear for his own life. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Good. He should be afraid. <b>[HIT HIM]</b>' 'goodheshouldbeafraid'>><<setcompassionate -5>><<set $ratscondition -= 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Slam a kick against the wall close to his body, to scare him.' 'slamakick'>><<setstrength +1>><<set $ratscondition -= 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Nod and thank him for his honesty.' 'nodandthankhim'>><<setcompassionate +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Continue your interrogation.' 'interrogation'>><</link>></li> </ul> <</if>><</nobr>>

The feeling of your fist connecting with his bony face is so, so satisfying. The crunch of cartilage, the howl of pain—it gives you a grim, burning sense of justice. You'll make him pay for his crimes. <<include "interrogation">>

The Rat kicks and shrieks as your boot sends shards of soggy brick flying. You feel strong enough to destroy the entire building with your fists and feet, but withhold the burning energy in order to learn more. <<include "interrogation">>

The Rat blinks, surprised. "You're… welcome?" <<include "interrogation">>

<<nobr>><<if $ratscondition gt 6>> The Rat squirms, but presses his lips tightly together. <br> <<include "intimidate">> <<else>> <<set $equ to true>>The Rat whimpers and says, "Please…" <br><br> Trouble shakes him roughly. "Begging won't get you anywhere. Coward! Kisich! I bet those kids begged you, didn't they, and you didn't listen then!" <br><br> The Rat squeaks and squirms again. "Who are you?" he chokes out. <br><br> You step forward again, close enough that you can feel the sickly body heat radiating from him. "<i>Who are you working for?</i>" <br><br> He cries out and squeezes his eyes shut. "They call themselves the Equalists!" <br><br> You and Trouble glance meaningfully at each other. <<include "interrogation">> <</if>><</nobr>>

The Rat snivels. "They pay good coin!" Trouble makes an incoherent noise. "That can't be it," he growls, pressing a little harder on the man's neck. "You'd really sell helpless kids to them just for coin?" <<nobr>><<if $ratscondition lte 5>> The man pauses at that, his eyes darting everywhere but the two of you, searching for some means of escape. Finally he closes his eyes and breathes, "They're working for… this man. This thing. They worship him." <br><br> "Worship?" you repeat. <br><br> He shudders, as if he didn't hear you. "He frightens me. When I'm not helping them, I have these… <i>visions</i>. Darkness where there isn't darkness. Voices in the shadows. So I have to help them, so I don't… <i>see</i> anymore." <br><br> "What are you on about?" Trouble demands roughly. <br><br> But the man refuses to say anything more about the subject, no matter what you do. <<include "interrogation">> <<else>> Perhaps wisely, the man doesn't answer that. <<include "interrogation">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $ratscondition lte 6>> The man bites his lip, helpless tears welling in his eyes as he seems to struggle against himself and your iron will. Finally he snivels and says, "What will you do to me if I say?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"We\'ll let you go."' 'wellletyougo'>><<setcompassionate +2>><</link>></li> <li><<link '<b>[LIE]</b> "We\'ll let you go."' 'wellletyougolie'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"We\'ll kill you if you don\'t say."' 'wherearethechildren2'>><<setcompassionate -2>><</link>></li> </ul> <<else>> The man twists away from you, his eyes bulging. He looks half-mad, practically frothing in the dim light of the alleyway. "Won't say," he groans. "Can't say!" <<include "interrogation">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Trouble makes a little noise of dissent, but otherwise stays quiet. <<include "wherearethechildren2">>

Trouble glances sharply your way, but otherwise stays quiet. He seems to understand your ploy. <<include "wherearethechildren2">>

The Rat shudders, then goes limp in defeat. "In Hightown," he whimpers, clear snot running down his nose. "Their hideout is in Hightown, at the Church of the One-God. There's an entrance there that leads to the catacombs under the city." You and Trouble look at each other. "That makes sense," he mutters. "It'd be the perfect place to go undetected—the catacombs are huge." You turn back to the man, about to ask what the Equalists do to their victims down there—only to find out that he's finally passed out from fear. You let him drop to the ground in disgust. <<include "finishhim">>

<<if $rattry is 1>> <<include "intimidate1">> <<elseif $rattry is 2>> <<include "intimidate2">> <<elseif $rattry is 3>> <<include "intimidate3">> <</if>>

You and Trouble look at each other. How far are you willing to go to get answers from this man? <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Punch the man in the face.' 'punchthemanintheface'>><<setstrength +1>><<set $ratscondition -= 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Let Trouble punch the man in the face.' 'lettroublepunchtheman'>><<setloyal +3>><<set $ratscondition -= 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Pull out your weapon and give him a scare.' 'pulloutyourweaponandgive'>><<set $ratscondition -= 5>><<setcompassionate -5>><<if $mainweapon is "sword">><<setsword +1>><</if>><<if $mainweapon is "bow">><<setbow +1>><<set $mainweapon to "arrow">><</if>><<if $mainweapon is "dagger">><<setdagger +1>><</if>><<if $mainweapon is "gun">><<setgun +1>><</if>><</link>></li> <<if ($compassionate lte 45 and $astral gte 20) or ($specialization is "battle" or $specialization is "elementalist")>><li><<link 'Conjure a flame and bring it close to his face--close enough to blind.' 'conjureaflame'>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setmagic +1>><<set $ratscondition -= 5>><<setastral +1>><</link>></li><</if>> </ul>

Your fist connects with the side of the Rat's face, making a meaty thud through the rushing of the rain: you feel a slight sting as some of your knuckles connect with his teeth. Then you wind back and punch him again for good measure. He cries out, turning his head aside to spit blood—but you can't tell if he's scared enough to talk yet. <<include "interrogation">>

Trouble winds his gloved fist back and delivers a harsh blow against the side of the Rat's face, connecting with his jaw and probably loosening a few teeth. The Rat cries out, turning his head aside to spit some blood from his split lip—but you can't tell if he's scared enough to talk yet. <<include "interrogation">>

The man shrieks before you've even brought your $mainweapon level to his face, allowing it to trail delicately along his neckline. "P-please," he cries. He smells sour, like sweat and urine. "I'll talk!"<<nobr>> <<if $possess_bow is true or $mainweapon is "arrow">> <<set $mainweapon to "bow">> <</if>> <</nobr>> <<include "interrogation">>

The man shrieks before you've even raised your glowing hand to eye-level, allowing him to feel the sizzling heat on his cheek. A few tiny blisters bubble on his face. "P-please," he cries. He smells sour, like sweat and urine. "I'll talk!" <<include "interrogation">>

You wind your fist back and punch the Rat hard enough that the wind is forcibly knocked out of him. He wheezes, trying to get enough air back to talk. "S-stop!…" <<include "interrogation">>

Trouble slams his fist into the Rat's stomach, mercilessly but lightly enough that the man still has enough air to talk. Still, he doubles over before wheezing, "S-stop!…" <<include "interrogation">>

You pause, drawing up to the Rat so that he has no choice but to look into your eyes. You concentrate and will your features to shift and warp: your pupil dilates and becomes the oval of a goat's eye, while your shadowed face becomes the dripping maw of a long-snouted reptile… The Rat gasps and tries to twist away from you, eyes bulging like a terrified bullfrog's. Unbidden, he begins to scream, and your features snap back to normal as you lean in close. <<include "interrogation">>

The pain almost makes the Rat pass out—you can see it in his eyes. He can't do much beyond curling into himself like an insect and moaning with feverish pain, but you are relentless. <<include "interrogation">>

The pain almost makes the Rat pass out—you can see it in the way he turns white and doubles up. He can't do much beyond curling himself like an insect, and Trouble takes a step back, almost as if he regrets the move. However, when he looks at you, his face is set with grim determination, and he nods. <<include "interrogation">>

You envision the Rat's mind as a ball of putty: you seize hold of it with your magic and <i>stretch</i>. You will never forget the terrible, broken sound the Rat makes as the sanity briefly slips out of him. <<include "interrogation">>

<<set $visithouse to true>> Trouble nods. "I'll take the inn, then." The steps up to the old, rickety house creak and sag beneath your weight: for a moment you worry that the soggy wood will give way beneath you. Before you even have the chance to knock, the door snaps open, and a thin woman with large bags under her eyes stands in the threshold, looking wildly past you. "Rika?!" she blurts. Then she sees that you're alone, and her face crumples. She seems to slump into herself. "Who're you?" she asks forlornly. "Have you seen my Rika?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Who is Rika?"' 'house2'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Are you missing someone?"' 'house2'>><</link>></li> </ul>

The woman presses her lips into a thin line. "My daughter," she says, with an air of having said it a dozen times before. "She's… we ain't heard from her. My man's been out looking for her since last two-moon." You draw your hood further over your face: the woman seems oblivious to the rain and doesn't offer for you to come inside. But it seems as though this is another Arta; her daughter Rika is another Hal. This could be your chance to find a lead on these child-snatchers—or the Equalists, if Trouble is right. <<include "rikasmom">>

<div class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("wasrikathetype")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"Was Rika the type to run off?"</div>' 'wasrikathetype'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("didsheassociate")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"Did she associate with anyone you didn\'t know?"</div>' 'didsheassociate'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("whenwasthelasttime")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"When was the last time you saw Rika?"</div>' 'whenwasthelasttime'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Have you ever heard of the Equalists?"</div>' 'haveyoueverheard'>><</link>>

The woman's face contorts; suddenly she seems quite angry at you for showing up without her daughter. "No," she says sharply, her voice high and shrill. "She's headstrong, sure—but she has a good home here. Good food and a good bed! If she ran off, she'd have come back by now!" <<include "rikasmom">>

Rika's mother's eyes bulge. "What you mean, <i>associate</i>?" she demands. "She's a little girl! She ain't—<i>associating</i> with no strangers! She knows better!" "I'm not trying to imply anything," you tell her. "I genuinely just want to know. It could give us a lead." The woman falls silent, but her eyes continue to glare snake-like at you. "She didn't associate with nobody," she says finally. <<include "rikasmom">>

The woman sighs, looking impatient. She stares past you into the rain. "Who are you, anyway?" she demands. "Vice Guard? I already told them over and over—" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I\'m a Shepherd. We\'re different."' 'imashepherd'>><<setreputation +1>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'m someone who\'s trying to help you. You could stand to be a little nicer."' 'imsomeonewhostrying'>><<setcompassionate -3>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Just tell me."' 'justtellme'>><<setcharisma -1>><<setcompassionate -5>><</link>></li> </ul>

The woman stops for a moment, apparently shocked into silence. Then she says softly: "Shepherds? What would you want with Rika?" She shakes her head and says, "Never mind. I'm sorry. I… Rika was playing with some other children. Triss and her little brother. They went missing, too." She points behind you, towards the inn. "Weren't far from here. They were behind there." Her face twists in sudden contempt. "Filas, the inn-keeper, says he never saw nothing. Vice Guard never questioned him. But Bart, his assistant—he looks scared as sin whenever we come around to ask questions. Must be for a reason." You make a mental note. "Bart and Filas. Thank you." Rika's mother folds her arms and stares off into the rain. "I hope she ain't anywhere wet." <<include "rikasmom">>

The woman's mouth snaps shut; for a moment she can't speak. Then she deflates and mutters, "I'm sorry. I… Rika was playing with some other children. Triss and her little brother. They went missing, too." She points behind you, towards the inn. "Weren't far. They were behind there." Her face twists in sudden contempt. "Filas, the inn-keeper, says he never saw nothing. Vice Guard never questioned him. But Bart, his assistant—he looks scared as sin whenever we come around. Must be for a reason." You make a mental note. "Bart and Filas. Thanks." Rika's mother folds her arms and stares off into the rain. "I hope she ain't anywhere wet." <<include "rikasmom">>

The woman looks taken aback for a moment; she takes a step back, as if finally registering that you're a stranger who could hurt her if you cared to. Finally she says, biting her lip, "…Rika was playing with some other children. Tress and her little brother, Dalas. They went missing, too." She points behind you, towards the inn. "Weren't far. They were behind there." Her face twists in sudden contempt. "Filas, the inn-keeper, says he never saw nothing. Vice Guard never questioned him. But Bart, his assistant—he looks scared as sin whenever we come around. Must be for a reason." You make a mental note. "Bart and Filas. Thanks." Rika's mother folds her arms and stares off into the rain. "I hope she ain't anywhere wet." <<include "rikasmom">>

Rika's mother frowns. "No. What's that?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Never mind."' 'nevermind'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"They may have been the ones who took Rika."' 'theymayhavebeentheones'>><</link>></li> </ul>

She scoffs a little and looks away. "Suit yourself, then," she says. She begins to turn from the door: it's clear she's tired of allowing herself to hope. She doesn't believe you'll find her daughter. "If that's all, then… goodbye. And if you do find Rika, then please bring her home." The door snaps shut in your face. <<include "haveyoueverheard2">>

The woman's eyes suddenly blaze in her sallow face. "I don't need to hear any of your fool ideas," she snaps. "Not unless you've got any proof! I've heard enough of <i>theories</i> from other folk—and they never help. What are you trying to say?" <<nobr>><<if $intelligence lt 15 and $charisma lt 15>> "There's a boy a few blocks away," you begin. But you can't help but falter under her thunderous gaze. "His name is Hal. His eyes… are like my companion's…" <br><br> Rika's mother stares at you as if you've gone insane. "Don't bother me again," she says abruptly. She waves you off as if you were a drunk in the streets, begging for money. "And don't come back here unless you've seen Rika with your own two eyes." <br><br> Then she slams the door in your face. <br><br> <<include "haveyoueverheard2">> <<else>> <<set $rika1 to true>> "It's a working theory," you tell her, forging on despite her skepticism. "They're a group of Mages who kidnap Norm children. My companion was once taken by them himself, when he was a child. They experimented on him, and the ordeal left some peculiar…marks on him." <br><br> Rika's mother has gone pale now, but she continues to challenge you. "And? Why would you ever think they were around here?" <br><br> "A boy a few blocks away just returned home after being missing for several sennights. He bears the same marks as my companion. So we think the Equalists may be taking children from all over the city." <br><br> For a moment the woman doesn't say anything. Finally she says, a little subdued now: "You know where they are?" <br><br> You shake your head. "Not yet. That's what we're trying to find out." <br><br> She puts a shaky hand to her head. The idea that her daughter was taken to be a magical experiment obviously upsets her. After a moment she says softly, "We always thought Rika had… some strangeness to her. Maybe something in our blood, from years back. We don't know where her da's family comes from. But we never took her to get seen, else the Inquisitors'd come for her." <br><br> "You're talking about magic?" Some Norms have Mage ancestry, you know—the very faint traces of magic in their blood can cause them to become Hedgewitches. People with no more magic than what could make a wart fall off… but still considered dangerous within the Autarchy. "Was Rika a Hedgewitch? Or a Mage?" <br><br> The woman shudders and clutches her arms as if you told her a horror story. "One-God help us," she whispers to herself. Then she shakes her head at you. "You should go. I can't be seen talking to you about this." <br><br> She hesitates just before shutting the door, and her eyes are as gray and sad as rainclouds. "I hope you're wrong," she says finally. "But if you do find these… Equalists… and they have my girl… please bring her home." <br><br> Then she turns away and closes the door. Far beyond, you can hear the thin, reedy cry of a baby starting up. It seems Rika has a sibling. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "youturnbacktotheinn">><</link>></center> <</if>><</nobr>>

You turn back to the inn across the street, though Trouble is nowhere to be seen. For a moment you stand there on the rickety porch, evaluating your options. You can't just give up now. There has to be a lead here somewhere. <<include "kitty">>

<i>Well</i>, you think to yourself, <i>that could have gone better</i>. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "moreknockingfails">><</link>></center>

More knocking fails to coax the woman outside again; the window with the candle in it suddenly darkens. With no other options, you turn back to the inn across the street. Trouble is nowhere in sight, and you stand there in the rain, somewhat at a loss. Where could he have gone? And what do you do next? <<include "kitty">>

You're broken from your thoughts by the appearance of a cat from around the corner of the porch: from the way it languidly slinks against the house's siding, it obviously belongs to this family, though its lustrous gray fur and sharp green eyes bely a pure-bred female rather than an alley cat. Where exactly did she come from? The cat stares at you with a knowing look, her whiskers quivering with tiny beads of water from the rain. Then she gives an inquisitive chirp. "Mrrp?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Kneel down and pet the cat.' 'kneeldownandpet'>><<setcompassionate +2>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Ignore the cat and walk towards the inn.' 'ignorethecat'>><<setcompassionate -2>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Talk to the cat. Maybe it has some information you can use.' 'talktothecat'>><<if $specialization is "wild">><<setmagic +1>><</if>><</link>></li> </ul>

You kneel so that you're sitting on the balls of your feet and affectionately allow the cat to sniff your fingers. Then it—<i>she</i>, you correct yourself—butts her head against your palm and begins to purr wildly. You smile to yourself. It's a bright moment in a dark night. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "eventuallyyourlegs">><</link>></center>

Eventually your legs get tired, and you rise stiffly to your feet. The cat nimbly jumps up onto the roof of the tiny house and disappears. Time to get a move on. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "innn">><</link>></center>

You don't have time to be playing with animals. You have a case to pursue and children to rescue. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "innn">><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<if $specialization is "wild">> <<include "cat">> <<else>> "Hello," you begin, a tad awkwardly. The cat stares at you, then blinks very slowly. "Er… have you seen anything suspicious around here?" <br><br> The cat continues to stare at you placidly. You clear your throat and try again. "Do you know where your owner—the little girl, Rika—went?" <br><br> Behind you, the door snaps open again, and Rika's mother glares. "What are you on about?" she snaps. Then she takes in the sight of you crouching to address her cat. "Mismis! In!" <br><br> The cat shoots you an apologetic look before slinking inside before the door slams shut once more. <br><br> You swallow. Well, that was embarrassing. <</if>><</nobr>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "innn">><</link>></center>

You concentrate for a moment, focusing on opening up your mind and senses to the chatter of the world around you. Your mind flinches from the contact—like eyes long used to darkness watering at the sight of sudden sunlight—but eventually the chirruping and noise settle into something more comprehensible. You turn to the cat and reach out a tendril of your thoughts toward her. <i>What's your name, little one?</i> The cat yawns and stretches luxuriously. <i>My humans call me Mismis,</i> she answers, <i>but among my kind I am known as—</i> She says something untranslatable to the Common tongue. <i>Well, I'll call you Mismis, if you don't mind.</i> You gesture silently towards the house. <i>This is your home?</i> Mismis licks a paw. <i>Perhaps. Why do you want to know?</i> You study her. Cats can be as capricious as they are loyal. <i>I'm looking for the little girl who lives here</i>, you tell her. <i>Rika. She was most likely taken away by people—predators—and I want to save her.</i> The cat continues to lick her paw, as if she has no interest in this, but you note that her right ear flicks back and forth, as if agitated. Finally she says, <i>Yes, I have seen the snakes.</i> You guess "snakes" to mean those who eat others' young. <i>I was not there when they took Rika, or I would have scratched their eyes out. But I know where their den is. I cannot get in.</i> Excitement surges up in you like a flame. <i>Where is their den?</i> Mismis shows her teeth. <i>They live in holes in the ground, and smell of dead humans. There is a place with a big yellow thing that looks like a man but stays very still. The place has other big holes, and other dead humans. That is the entrance to where they live.</i> She sniffs at you. <i>Follow your nose. The whole place smells of death.</i> "<<c firstname>>?" You abruptly break the connection between you and the cat to jerk your head up: Trouble is standing there on the porch steps, drenched and looking annoyed, staring at you silently staring at a cat. "…What are you doing?" <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cat2">><</link>></center>

You stand up and quickly explain what Mismis told you: Trouble doesn't bother to question how or why you were talking to a cat in the first place. He says immediately, "What do you think it means?" "Hael if I know." You turn back to question Mismis further, only to find that the cat has disappeared. "A place that smells of death, with a giant yellow man that stays very still?…" He snaps his fingers suddenly. "A statue of the One-God," he says. "Those are always gold." You feel another surge of excitement. "You think she could have been talking about a church?" "A <i>graveyard</i>," Trouble says, his eyes glinting fiercely in the weak light of the porch. "Dead humans, holes in the ground—there can't be anywhere else but the catacombs under the city! They'd be the perfect hideout for those rats—" "And there's an entrance to them through the graveyard of the Church," you finish. Your heart is thrumming rapidly in your chest, despite yourself. "The one in Hightown. Should we start there?" Trouble nods. "No time to waste," he breathes. <<include "equalistscompound">>

You tilt Hal's chin upwards so you can see his strange, changed eyes. He stares up at you, his expression first blank, but as you reach towards his mind with your magic—a scalding, scouring probe, rooting through his memories—he begins to react. His face contorts as he recognizes your mental touch, and he tears his face out of your hand suddenly, crying out. But you remind yourself that you must be pitiless, even as Trouble and Arta start and stare at you. Other lives are in danger, if Trouble is right about the Equalists. Sacrifices have to be made. And Hal will recover, you tell yourself. At least, he should. You continue to reach for the boy's thoughts as he begins to scream. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "insidehalsmind">><</link>></center>

When you open your eyes again, you know immediately that your body is no longer your own. It's lighter, smaller, springier-feeling—you're in Hal's body. You are Hal. <i>What're you doing?</i> A small voice speaks to you from some distant corner of your—no, Hal's—mind. <i>Get out. You're not supposed to be here…</i> <i>I just need to see something</i>, you tell him. <i>I'm not here to hurt you. I just have to know.</i> <i>Know what?</i> You direct him to what you want to see, firm and unrelenting. His fragile resistance gives way to you in an instant, crumbling like a wall of sand before the tide. In a moment you're looking out through his eyes, the vision already hazy with pain and time, but with enough detail that you're able to surmise what's going on. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "halmemory2">><</link>></center>

It's the evening of Hal's kidnapping. He—you—are walking down the street on the way home from work, the chatter of other boys from the workshop fading away behind you as they go their separate ways. As you pass an alleyway, someone speaks to you from the shadows within. You look, wary; there's an old beggar with an eyepatch, reaching out with a liver-spotted hand. He looks dirty and frail, and not very dangerous, so you stop. "Boy," he croaks. "Please, boy. Spare a coin? Or a bit of food?" You are filled with pity for the old man. He reminds you of your grandfather, who is also missing an eye, though he is warm and jovial and cared-for by you and your mother and your aunts and uncles. Is this where Pap would be, if he were left all alone? Hal's voice leaves your mouth, without any input from you: you are, of course, viewing a memory that has already happened. "What happened to you?" "I got sick, lad," the old man says, mournful. "No money to pay a Healer, or any of those fancy physicks from the West. I can only wait here to die. But I'm so hungry…" Automatically your hand moves to take a copper coin from your pouch, strung around your neck and well-hidden from cutpurses. You can hardly afford it—you were saving up the money for a cake for your mother's birthday—but you figure she'll be proud to hear that the money was spent with good intentions. You move closer to drop the coin into the beggar's outstretched palm, and that's when he grabs your arm. "Thank you, my lad," he says, grinning, and when you look into his face, you see that it's utterly transformed: instead of the visage of a weary old man, you're looking into the mad, glowing eye of a Mage with a short, pointed beard. That's all you see before he mutters something under his breath and sleep descends upon you like a storm cloud. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "halmemory3">><</link>></center>

The next memories are blurred by whatever sedative they gave Hal to keep him calm. When you next wake up, you find yourself in a small, dark, windowless room with a dozen other children, some your age, others much younger. All cowering. The room is fiercely cold: you sense that you must be underground. A girl, stocky, tousle-headed, and fierce-looking, is watching you stir from where you've been dumped on the floor. She hisses, "Oi! You got a family?" It takes you a long time to get your bearings. "Yeah, I've got one," you mutter finally. Your head throbs, and you feel as if your skull has been stuffed with cotton. "Why?" "That means they're getting desperate," the girl says triumphantly. She points to a few other children in the corner, these more silent and subdued than the rest. "Them, they've been here longer than the others. And they're orphans—got snatched up 'cause no one would go looking for them, see?" She indicates herself and you. "But us, we <i>got</i> people looking. That means they don't care anymore. They're desperate. They're getting anybody they can take." "Who's <i>they</i>?" You feel as if panic should be rising within you, but for some reason you feel an odd lack of emotion. Is it an aftereffect of the spell that was cast on you? A potion they fed you to dampen your thoughts? "Who's they? Them crazy Mages, of course!" the girl exclaims. "The Catchers! The ones who put us here!" "What do they want with us?" "They want to give us magic," another girl butts in sagely. Beside her, a little boy no older than six sobs into his hands. "I heard 'em talking. They do stuff to us—stuff that hurts, from the screams—and try to put the magic in us. I saw one kid come out of The Room with his hair sticking straight up like it was full of lightning! But he died right after. They all do. It makes the Catchers mad. That's why they're getting more and more kids—'cause the first ones died too fast." The little boy sobs harder, though the noise never rises above a dry, shuddering gasp. "Shush, Yonny," the older girl tells him. "What's The Room?" you ask her. Her face is grave and smudged with what looks like wet clay. "That's where they do their things to the kids," she whispers, clearly trying not to upset the young crying boy. "Their spells and whatnot." You still feel no fear. You just feel hollowed out and stuffed, like a doll. "But where is it? What's in it? What does it look like?" She shakes her head. "Dunno. I ain't ever seen it. Those kids in the corner have, but they don't talk. Whatever they do to you in there makes you not want to talk." "Well, that ain't going to happen to <i>me</i>," the first girl butts in fiercely. "I won't let 'em. I'm going to escape." The second girl shakes her head. "You'll get yourself killed." "Better that than let them put their hands on me!" "Wait," you interrupt. "How are you going to escape?" She turns to you, a little wary, but it's clear that you can't do anything to her that's worse than what the "Catchers" will do. "They need us whole, see," she says, lowering her voice conspiratorially. "Healthy, so they can do their 'speriments. So if we fight each other, pretend to argue—" "They'll have to separate us," you say, seeing her plan instantly. The girl nods. "And I memorized the layout of this place," she whispers. "I wasn't asleep the whole time they brought me here, like they thought. If they take you out of this room and you can make a break for it, you've got to go left around the corner, then left again, down a very long tunnel, then right to this little wooden door. It doesn't look like it goes anywhere, but it goes outside." You're impressed by her resourcefulness. "Left, left, right," you say aloud. The girl nods. "<i>L</i>et's <i>l</i>eave, <i>R</i>ika," she says. "That's how I remember." "What's Rika?" "That's my name, stupid." You're about to tell her that a better acronym would be <i>let's leave right away</i>, but before you can, the only door to the room suddenly swings open, eliciting little cries and whimpers from the other children. Standing in the doorway is a man—the same man who masqueraded as a beggar and brought you here. He's still wearing an eyepatch, so you presume that he actually is missing an eye—but now, in his true form, he seems young and strong. His face is stony as he sweeps the room with a critical eye. Then his finger lifts and points in your direction like a terrible weathervane. "Rika." The stocky girl flinches. The man's finger crooks upward. "Come." After a moment of hesitation, she rises. You want to say something to her—try to stop the man from taking her, even—but you've found that you're frozen in place: not by fear, but by some other invisible force. The other children also stand stock-still. The man has cast a spell on you! Rika pauses at the threshold. "What're you gonna do to me?" she asks, raising her chin. "You gonna hurt me?" The man looks down at her with cold dispassion. "Hurt you," he echoes, and he sounds barely human. "No, child. I'm going to give you a great gift." The door swings shut behind them. You strain to listen, but you can't hear any sounds of Rika running away. Later, the other girl turns to you grimly in the dark. "You asked what The Room is like," she says. "I guess Rika's about to find out." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "halmemory4">><</link>></center>

But Rika never returns to the cell—whether because she was killed or because she has escaped, you don't know. What you do know is that the sennight that follows is filled with more pain and terror than you've ever experienced in your life. Hal's memories become fractured here—the boy's endeavors to block out what has happened to him—but you catch glimpses of strange instruments, Mages hovering over your paralyzed body with glowing hands and runes to be seared into your flesh, only to vanish hours later. No matter how much you cry and beg, your captors are merciless. Worse, they grow impatient with you: it seems whatever they're doing doesn't seem to be having its intended effect. With time, you feel yourself withdrawing more and more into the sanctity of your own mind. The spells that they use to keep you tame and quiet are slowly rendering you mute, disconnected from yourself. It's an effort just to open your eyes, knowing what the day has waiting for you. One night, lying on the cold stone floor as your feverish body tries to sweat out the foreign energies now inside you, the other girl—Yonny's cousin, Tress—says, "They're hurrying, with you. Usually they only take a kid to The Room once a day. With you they're doing it lots." "You think they're getting scared that help is coming for us?" you whisper, unable to summon the energy to hope. Tress shakes her head. "I heard some of them talking again. I think they're getting rushed by somebody—a boss, maybe. Someone named Blaphemel." "Blaphemel? What kind of name is that?" "Dunno. But they're real scared of him." And if monsters like these are scared of him, you think, what kind of monster is he? <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "halmemory5">><</link>></center>

One day a reckless impulse rises up in you, despite their spells, despite their cold and surgical torture-rituals. <i>To Hael with this</i>, you think, with the very last vestige of your old vigor. If things are going to continue like this, you might as well die trying to escape than submit to their experiments any longer. So, one day, you run. One of the Mages takes you out of the cell, and you make a break for it, remembering Rika's mantra: left, left, right. Let's leave, Rika. Miraculously, the Mage doesn't follow you; she only watches, arms at her sides, as you dart around the corner towards freedom. You barely spare a glance at your surroundings: the walls are curved, and close, and made of damp stone. You pass by several recesses in the walls that look like stone bunks. You run for several minutes, but the tunnels remain utterly silent, and no alarm is raised. Soon enough, you find the wooden door that Rika had once spoken about: a little thing, more like a hatch in the wall than an actual door, but you know instinctively it leads to your freedom. You're just reaching your hand towards the rusty iron ring set into the door when someone's hand touches your shoulder. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "halmemory6">><</link>></center>

You whirl. Then bite back a shout of joy. Standing there isn't the terrifying one-eyed Mage, or any of the other Catchers. Instead, this figure is small and stocky, and smiling, as if pleased to see you. Her hair is combed back and slicked smartly against her head. Rika! "I thought you were dead!" you blurt. You snatch at her hand. "Come—we can get help—let's go—" Rika laughs, and the sound seems odd to you; it's dry and fricative, and somehow insect-like. "Oh, no," she says. Instead of her urban burr, her voice is now sophisticated, purring—too adult. It's not the one you remember. "I don't think we're going anywhere." And that's when you notice it. Rika's eyes are different—not ringed with gold, like some of the children in the cell, but pupil-less and beetle-black. And her hand is glowing red, sparking with furious energy… <i>She's become a Mage?</i> That's all you can register before Rika draws her hand back and blasts you with a gout of flame. You feel your clothes and flesh catch fire and you try to scream, but the fire rushes down your throat and snuffs the sound in your chest. Darkness consumes you in an instant. Rika's laughter rains down on you like shards of falling glass as you go. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "halmemory7">><</link>></center>

The next thing you remember, you're outside: the Catchers have dumped you in a muddy hole in the ground, leaving you for dead. Your eyelids crackle when you open them; you can't smell anything, but when you open your mouth to rasp a breath, you taste the overpowering stench of smoke and burnt tissue. An unfamiliar dog is peering down at you, sniffing at your charred sleeve and barking; you can see the pink, singed flesh of your arm beneath its inquiring nose. Above you, a golden statue smiles down at you. Blurredly you notice well-dressed figures approaching from a distance, exclaiming in fear and amazement as you try to move. You try to call out to them, to ask for help… But then the pain roars up again, too intense to comprehend, and you pass out once more… <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "halmemory8">><</link>></center>

The next thing you know, you're standing outside your home in Smoketown. You have no idea how you got there—you think you might have walked in a daze, though from where, you couldn't say—but more unbelievably, your body is as new and unmarked as the day you were kidnapped. No burn marks remain, and one of the people who found you was kind enough to lend you new clothes. He spoke with a foreign accent, you remember. He said that you healed right before his eyes, and that you were touched by the gaze of the One-God. But you know that's not how you came to be healed. Rika definitely tried to kill you—she burned you to a crisp, such that you should have never been able to open your eyes again—but it seems the Catchers' experiments have had an effect on you, as well. True to their promise, they've given you a gift—or a curse. And they don't seem to know it. Otherwise they never would have dumped you outside like trash. But you can't seem to take joy in your strange fortune. The trauma of the past sennights has taken its toll on you: that fire purged every bit of you, extinguishing you to only a wisp. The act of regenerating—of waking up from the dead—is too unnatural for you to process, to allow yourself to experience and <i>feel</i>. You feel almost as if you've been reborn without your true soul: that part has been released to the heavens, and the thing you're controlling now is simply… an abomination. Something separate from your old self. Something unspeakable and new. And everywhere you turn, you can't see the faces of your mother, your friends, the strangely-uniformed people who come to see you and ask about where you've been. You can only see those eyes. Rika's eyes. Inhuman and full of laughter, and blacker than the pits of Hael… <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "halmemory9">><</link>></center>

You surface from Hal's memories with a gasp, like someone breaking from a long time spent underwater. There's a steadying hand on your elbow—Trouble is talking to you, you think—and eventually you're able to stagger into a chair as Hal begins to softly, helplessly cry. "Well?" Trouble asks quietly. He looks unhappy as Arta rushes over to comfort her son, but all of his focus is on you. "What did you see?" You take a breath and shakily manage to recount what you—and Hal—relived. Trouble's expression turns more and more thunderous with each passing moment, and when you're done, he stands up and begins to pace. "Fuck," he says. You blow out a breath. "I know." "But where are they hiding?" He runs a hand through his hair, agitated. "We still don't know. And how did they get that girl Rika under their control? Does that mean she really is a Mage now? They've succeeded?" "That's not the worst part," you say. "Hal escaped a few days ago. If they've succeeded, that means all of those other children…" Trouble's face spasms. "<i>Shit</i>." "I know." You run a hand over your face, almost expecting your own skin to be blackened and charred. It will be a long time before you can forget the horrors of what you just experienced. Do you regret forcing Hal to relive such trauma? <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'No. It\'s the only way to save the other children, and with time, he\'ll recover. He\'d thank me if he could.' 'halmemory10'>><<setcompassionate -3>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Yes. The boy has already been so much, and I forced him to go through it all over again.' 'halmemory10'>><<setcompassionate +3>><</link>></li> </ul>

You shake yourself free of your thoughts as Arta leads Hal away to bed. There's no use dwelling on it now: what's done is done. "Let's review what we know," you say. "They've been luring children by preying on their goodwill, masquerading as beggars and victims. They take the children to some kind of underground hideout. Tunnels somewhere below the city." "The sewers?" "No, we—I—would have smelled it. It wasn't wet enough." He furrows his brow. "Maybe we should start with where Hal ended up, and trace it backwards. What do you remember?" You think about it. "Well, they dumped Hal's body in an open hole in the ground. I can't imagine they'd think it wouldn't have attracted attention." "Unless it's a place where dead bodies aren't uncommon!" Trouble says suddenly, snapping his fingers. "You said you saw a golden statue standing over you. Could that have been the One-God?" You catch his thoughts. "A graveyard," you blurt. "Attached to one of the churches. They put his body in an open grave!" "And the people you saw approaching," Trouble says. "They were well-dressed? Foreign-sounding, like merchants from somewhere else?" "So the church in Whitestone?" He nods, and you can see that a strange fire has been kindled in his eyes. "There's an entrance to the city's catacombs at that one. It'd be the perfect place to hide: massive tunnels, no one to disturb you…" You meet his gaze. "Let's start there." <<include "equalistscompound">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "finishhimcontinued">><</link>></center>

"What do we do with him?" Trouble asks softly, wrinkling his nose in distaste at the man. "Can't stick around and wait for Vice Guard to pick him up. Those kids need help <i>now</i>." <<include "finishhimm">>

<ul class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("whatdoyouthinkweshoulddowithhim")>><li><<link '"What do <i>you</i> think we should do with him?"' 'whatdoyouthinkweshoulddowithhim'>><<setloyal +3>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link '"Tie him up and leave him with the innkeeper. Tell him to turn the Rat over to the Vice Guard."' 'tiehimupandleavehim'>><<set $troubleharden += 1>><<setorder +3>><<setloyal +5>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Let him go. He\'s not the mastermind here, only the lackey."' 'lethimgohesnot'>><<settrouble -1>><<setcompassionate +5>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Kill him. Child-snatchers deserve death."' 'killhimchildsnatchers'>><<set $troubleharden -= 1>><<setcompassionate -10>><<settrouble -1>><<setloyal -5>><</link>></li> </ul>

Trouble scratches the back of his head in a furious, agitated way. "Oh, Hael," he mutters. "I don't know. Shove him in a closet somewhere until we can come back and then offer him up to the parents of the kids he stole?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Oh, that sounds good."' 'ohthatsoundsgood'>><<setorder -3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Hmm. I don\'t know about that..."' 'hmmidontknowaboutthat'>><</link>></li> </ul>

"Street justice," you note, flexing your fists. "I like it." Trouble grins wolfishly. "I knew I liked you, recruit." <<include "almosttt">>

Trouble frowns. "What do you suggest, then?" <<include "finishhimm">>

Trouble makes a face at that. "How do we know the innkeeper won't just turn him loose?" "Why would he?" "I dunno. The Rat offers him coin, or something." "We'll just have to take that chance. It's the only way we have of going through legal channels. This way, he's punished, and legitimately; and if he's not, that's not on us." Trouble frowns but doesn't argue with you. Eventually he nods, and the two of you get to work trussing up the Rat like a holiday bird. <<include "almosttt">>

Trouble scowls. "He'll only get taken up by some other shitheads and made to do worse someday," he grumbles. "You sure we want to just… let him go, no consequences?" You fold your arms. "We have bigger fish to fry." He growls, then stoops to rifle through the Rat's pockets. Upon finding the man's signaculum—the small disc indicating his name, status, and address—he stands up and pockets it. "If I catch wind of any other kids disappearing, I'm going straight to you," he says, addressing the man's unconscious body more than he is addressing you. "Yonni Matin. I'll remember you." Then he spits on the ground near the Rat's hand. "You'll get your punishment in the afterlife, dogshit." <<include "almosttt">>

Trouble's brows snap down. "You mean murder an unarmed, unconscious man in cold blood?" You stare right back. "He sent those children to their deaths in cold blood." For a moment he seems to wrestle with himself, clearly at odds with your logic and his own morality. Finally he grimaces and says, in a very low voice: "…I don't think I can." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Fine. I\'ll do it."' 'fineilldoit'>><<set $cantbecommander += 1>><<setcompassionate -10>><<setcourage +1>><<setorder -10>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You\'re going to have to do worse than this eventually, you know."' 'youregoingtohavetodoworse'>><<settrouble -3>><<set $troubleharden -= 1>><<setcompassionate -10>><</link>></li> </ul>

Trouble winces. "If you want to." He turns his back to you, a concession—one that is very difficult for him to make, considering the way his hands twitch and clench against his sides. He inhales deeply, once or twice, as if fighting off nausea. "Get it over with, then," he mutters. Then he looks up at the sky, despite the rain. You kneel swiftly, drawing your $mainweapon without a sound. The Rat's dead before he ever has a chance to wake up. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Take his coin.' 'takehiscoin'>><<setgold +20>><<settrouble -3>><<setcompassionate -10>><<setcunning +8>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Leave it. Trouble\'s looking this way again.' 'almosttt'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Trouble's eyes flash when he sees you removing the dead man's coin pouch, and his lip curls. "What?" You shrug in response to his silent accusation. "It's not as if he'll need it." Then you get to work putting his body in the trash, where it belongs. <<set $troublestatus to "He's not the biggest fan of your tactics.">> <<include "almosttt">>

Trouble's eyes flare. "I know that." Then he turns his back to you: it's a concession, and one that it is very difficult for him to make, judging by the way his hands twitch and clench against his sides. "Get it over with, then," he mutters, crossing his arms and hunching his shoulders against the cold. "And let's not speak of this ever again." You kneel swiftly, drawing your $mainweapon without a sound. The Rat's dead before he ever has a chance to wake up. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Take his coin.' 'takehiscoin'>><<setgold + 20>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setcunning +3>><<settrouble -10>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Leave it. Trouble\'s looking this way again.' 'almostttt'>><</link>></li> </ul>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "almostttt">><</link>></center>

Afterwards, Trouble turns to you and surveys you grimly through the rain. "Hightown, then," he says. "The Church of the One-God. That's the only place where we can get into the catacombs—and find the kids." "If they're alive," you can't help but point out. Trouble's gloved fist balls. "They are," he grinds out. "I can feel it. They have to be." <i>Those things don't mean the same</i>, you think, but you only silently nod and follow Trouble as he lopes through the rain towards Hightown. <<include "equalistscompound">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "equalistscompoundd">><</link>></center>

The journey up to Hightown is a sluggish nightmare: the rain has become a ferocious downpour, thunder rumbling like falling boulders and lightning cleaving the black sky above. Haven is built in tiers, on a slope, and although it has excellent drainage systems, you can't help but feel your journey uphill is rather like walking up a mudslide or avalanche. At times the miserable brown water rushes up to your knees, and Trouble has to reach out and grab your shoulder to steady you. Finally you reach the Church, with its great towering statue looming up through the dark, the palms of the One-God upturned as if to catch the lightning. You hurry to shield yourself along the darkened wall of the graveyard, surveying the mausoleum (the only free-standing building other than the Church) from a distance. Although you doubt anyone could spot you through the deluge of rain—and the lightless night—you're not about to take any chances. Trouble crouches on his haunches near you, watching the small gold-tipped roof with glittering eyes. "That place leads to the catacombs," he says, so quietly you almost don't hear. "That's where the Equalists must be." Then he's pulling the rifle off of his back, removing its waterproof cover and checking his ammunition. "You going to be all right, <<c firstname>>? I know this is your first big mission, so if it's too much, you can go back." You eye the big gun and ask, "What's the plan?" Trouble lifts one broad shoulder in a shrug. "Kick the door down. Storm the place. Kill them all—take no prisoners. Free the kids and get out." <<include "uh">>

<div class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("areyousureyourethinkingstraight")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"...Are you sure you\'re thinking straight?"</div>' 'areyousureyourethinkingstraight'>><<if $trouble gte 35>><<settrouble +1>><</if>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"All right. I\'ll follow your lead." He\'s the experienced one here, after all. </div>' 'allrightillfollowyourlead'>><<setloyal +5>><<setcourage +3>><<set $troubleharden -= 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"We should take a stealthy approach instead. Sneak in, secure the children, find out what\'s going on, <i>then</i> attack."</div>' 'weshouldtakeastealthy'>><<setcunning +3>><<setintelligence +3>><<set $troubleharden += 1>><</link>>

Trouble clearly has an extremely loaded and traumatic past regarding the Equalists: that, paired with his hot temper, could cloud his thinking and feed his need for revenge. You have to be sure he has his head on straight before he does this. <<nobr>><<if $trouble gte 35>> Trouble's eyes flare, and he holds himself still and taut for a moment before speaking. Finally the air rushes out of him and he says softly, "…Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks for your concern, <<c firstname>>." <<include "uh">> <<else>> Trouble's eyes flare, and he holds himself still and taut for a moment before speaking. Finally the air rushes out of him and he says tightly, "Don't you worry yourself, recruit. I'm fine. Now let's go." <<include "uh">> <</if>><</nobr>>

It makes sense, you think to yourself. Getting the drop on the Equalists first means they won't have time to surprise you or ambush you. Hopefully you can end this before they even know what's going on. Trouble cocks his rifle and straightens. "All right," he says softly. "Follow my lead." <<include "attack">>

Trouble blinks. "Sneaking around opens up the possibility of getting jumped ourselves—if we don't get the drop on them first, things could go sideways." "If we burst in there, guns blazing, they could kill the children before we ever find them," you counter evenly. For a moment, he thinks over it, his mind working in such a furious way that you could swear you can hear the gears in his head clanking. Finally Trouble clicks his tongue softly and says, "Ay, you're right, recruit. As usual." He motions with his gun. "You lead, then. I'll cover your back." You nod and turn to make your way down into the tunnels, and into the darkness you know is waiting there for you. <<include "stealth">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "stealth2">><<set $encounterdblaphamel to true>><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<achieve "achieve_restraint">><<notify_achievement "I'll Pay Thy Toll" "Prevented Trouble from confronting the Equalists with guns blazing.">><<set $encounteredblaphemel to true>><<if settings.music is true>><<audio "dungeon" volume 0 fadeoverto 5 0.1>><<timed 5s>><<audio "dungeon" fadeoverto 120 0>><</timed>><</if>><</nobr>>No sound or movement greets you as you slip through the small wooden hatch in the inner wall of the mausoleum, emerging from the other side into a darkened, musty tunnel. It seems just as deserted as one would expect—but you know that if the Equalists have managed to stay hidden for this long, it wouldn't be so easy to just stumble across them. You glance at Trouble, and he gives you a sharp nod. Onward. You shuffle forward and begin to descend down the throat of the tunnel into its gut. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "stealth3">><</link>></center>

You hear the sharp intake of Trouble's breath—breath sounds so loud in this dark, oppressive space—but he says or thinks nothing more. <<include "eventuallyyousensethetunnel">>

Eventually, you sense the tunnel 'leveling out,' so that you're no longer shuffling downwards. There's a fork in the passageways in front of you. One path slides to the right, and one winds lazily to the left. Even when you strain your eyes and ears for some sign that either is occupied, you sense nothing: there's no light, sound, or disturbance of air to provide you a clue. With a prickling sense of worry, you hope you'll remember how to get out of this labyrinth when the time comes. Behind you, Trouble draws close, his presence a burning heat in the dark tunnel. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Let\'s go right.' 'rightway1'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Let\'s go left.' 'divert'>><</link>></li> </ul>

After a few minutes, you begin to hear the sound of dripping water. You straighten your back and pick up your stride: it's the first sound you've heard in ages, and it seems promising. …However, it takes another several minutes for you to discover that you've hit a dead end. You have to waste more time backtracking. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'I\'ll go right now.' 'rightway1'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'I\'ll go left now.' 'divert2'>><</link>></li> </ul>

This… Haven't you come this way before? You hear the sound of dripping water again and silently groan. Another dead end… or the same one? Trouble shoots you an incredulous look. Time to backtrack again. Finally you decide to take a corridor you haven't taken before. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "rightway1">><</link>></center>

A few sweaty moments of creeping in the dark bring you to a small door tucked away on your right: groping, your hand comes to rest against the rotting wood, and you close your eyes and concentrate. You can't hear anything going on behind the door. Beside you, Trouble silently raises his gun and nods at you. You gently push open the door. There's another moment of waiting with your heart thundering in your throat, straining your ears and eyes for any movement within… then the two of you slip inside, shutting the door carefully behind you. You conjure a small blue witchlight and look around. This seems to be a barracks of some sort: there are two damp and mildewy cots here, a few unlit candles scattered over the floor, and two worktables littered with papers and books. Other than that, it's completely empty. <<include "barracks">>

Moving silently, you approach the first desk to find it neatly organized, with a stack of research books and spell tomes in one corner and what looks to be a sheaf of letters or personal papers in the middle. Carefully picking up the letters, you begin to read… <<include "letters">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "6camoa">><</link>></center>

<<set $loadPassage to Story.get("yugaosnote1").text;>> <<letter_holder "note" $loadPassage>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "8camoa">><</link>></center>

<<set $loadPassage to Story.get("yugaosnote2").text;>> <<letter_holder "note" $loadPassage>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "15camoa">><</link>></center>

<<set $loadPassage to Story.get("yugaosnote3").text;>> <<letter_holder "note" $loadPassage>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "20camoa">><</link>></center>

<<set $loadPassage to Story.get("yugaosnote4").text;>> <<letter_holder "note" $loadPassage>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "5kthili">><</link>></center>

<<set $loadPassage to Story.get("yugaosnote5").text;>> <<letter_holder "note" $loadPassage>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "5kthili2">><</link>></center>

The diary entries stop there. You move over to the other desk, which is considerably more haphazard and disorganized than the other one, scattered with papers and strange, violently-drawn sketches. You pick up one page to find the same thing drawn over and over, in lazy loops and harsh stark print: <<set $loadPassage to Story.get("treasnote1").text;>> <<letter_holder "note half-width-letter-holder" $loadPassage>> Another one reads: <<set $loadPassage to Story.get("treasnote2").text;>> <<letter_holder "note half-width-letter-holder" $loadPassage>> A third reads: <<set $loadPassage to Story.get("treasnote3").text;>> <<letter_holder "note half-width-letter-holder" $loadPassage>> The last one reads: <<set $loadPassage to Story.get("treasnote4").text;>> <<letter_holder "note half-width-letter-holder" $loadPassage>> <<include "barracks">>

One cot is rumpled and messy, as if its owner tosses in their sleep and never makes their bed. The other one is immaculately-neat, the sheets drawn and tight, unmarred except for the giant bloodstain spread across the bed. Trouble leans close and touches the stain cautiously: it is old, and whoever bled there did so a while ago. Judging from the size, you guess they most likely died from the wound. <<include "barracks">>

Slipping out of the room—and unable to communicate much about what you found there—you creep down the tunnel until you reach another fork in the passage. This time you… <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Take the right path.' 'rightway3'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Take the left path.' 'divert3'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Once again, you find a small door set into the wall, and again, you can't hear or sense anything behind it. Again Trouble raises his gun, and again you gently ease the door open, taking care not to let its hinges squeak. Slipping inside, your senses are immediately assaulted by something… noxious. It feels similar to breathing in toxic fumes, or entering a room that has contained a decomposing corpse for week: you find yourself breathing through your mouth, even though the sensation is less physical and more psychic. Even Trouble seems to feel something, edging uneasily backwards until his back hits the closed door. You fight the urge to retch. Terrible magic has been wrought here: evil magic, uncanny and unnatural magic—Endarkened magic, you think. In the old days people would call it the Rot: something so foul and unnatural that it corrupted things from the inside-out. Why are you feeling it so strongly <i>here</i>? Your stinging eyes survey the room, taking in the dim shapes that lurk in the darkness. There's a sarcophagus here in the middle, a solid gray slab that seems to have been made into a morbid operating table. Here are worktables with vicious and gruesome medical tools; and in the corner, summoning circles that hurt your eyes when you look at them. To the far right, a tall, high table with a large black orb—held on a pedestal shaped like a claw—looms ominously. A poisonous miasma seems to leak from the orb. <<include "lab">>

You approach the worktables, swallowing your revulsion when you notice most of the tools lying on them haven't been cleaned of blood. Again you notice there are a few notes scattered across their surfaces: <<set $loadPassage to Story.get("equalistsnote1").text;>> <<letter_holder "note half-width-letter-holder" $loadPassage>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "approachtheworktables2">><</link>></center>

Another paper says, though in considerably shakier handwriting: <<set $loadPassage to Story.get("equalistsnote2").text;>> <<letter_holder "note half-width-letter-holder" $loadPassage>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "approachtheworktables3">><</link>></center>

<<set $rika2 to true>><<set $loadPassage to Story.get("equalistsnote3").text;>> <<letter_holder "note half-width-letter-holder" $loadPassage>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "approachtheworktables4">><</link>></center>

<<set $loadPassage to Story.get("equalistsnote4").text;>> <<letter_holder "note half-width-letter-holder" $loadPassage>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "approachtheworktables5">><</link>></center>

On one worktable is a black tome covered in strange runes. The crawl up the nape of your neck tells you that it's wreathed in very dark magic, and it possibly contains blasphemous spells. Getting caught with such a thing could get you executed, Shepherd or no. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Take it.' 'takethedarktome'>><<setcourage +1>><<setcunning +1>><<setmagic +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Leave it be.' 'leavethedarktome'>><<setintelligence +1>><<setloyal +2>><</link>></li> </ul>

<<set $darktome to true>>When Trouble isn't looking, you swiftly wrap the tome in some rags and tuck it away, close to your chest. The volume seems to burn and pulse like the beat of a heart against your torso. <<include "lab">>

You turn away from the tome with a sense of relief. No need to sully your hands with such a cursed thing. <<include "lab">>

You step closer to the summoning circles, throwing an arm out to stop Trouble when he wanders too close. Although they're inactive—bloody runes scrawled into the floor when it should be lyme and chalk—you can still feel the malice thrumming from them like heat. Trouble wrinkles his nose at them. <i>What the hell are they for?</i> <<nobr>><<if $arcane gte 25 or $intelligence gte 22>> You kneel to examine them, careful not to touch. After a moment of scanning the runes, you answer: <i>They're for summoning Endarkened. Low-level ones.</i> <br><br> Trouble's curse is unutterable, even in your own heads. <i>You don't mean…</i> <br><br> You nod once, sharply. <i>The Equalists failed to imbue the childen with magic on their own,</i> you tell him. <i>It seems they turned to demons to help them, probably going mad in the process: they were summoning Endarkened into the children and turning them into Thralls. It'd succeed in giving the victims 'magic,' but it sacrificed their free will to the demons in the process.</i> <br><br> Trouble has to turn away at that, and for a moment your thoughts are drowned out by the rush of horror, rage, and revulsion crowding in his head. As for yourself, you… <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '...feel immense pity and regret. Those poor children.' 'feelimmensepity'>><<setcompassionate +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '...feel a similar pain and rage. Those <i>kisichs</i> will pay.' 'feelasimilarpain'>><<setcompassionate -3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '...feel a burning curiosity. How did the process work? What implications does this have?' 'feelaburningcuriosity'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '...feel not much of anything. You\'ve already seen so much in your life.' 'feelnotmuchofanything'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '...feel an intense need to comfort Trouble.' 'feelanintenseneed'>><<settrouble +1>><</link>></li> </ul> <<else>> You stare at the circles for a long time, squinting hard. But the runes in the floor are incomprehensible—you can't discern any meaning in them. Eventually you shrug and decide to move on. <<include "lab">> <</if>><</nobr>>

To your alarm you even feel a crowd of tears cluster in your throat. The children did nothing to deserve this. You have to find them. You have to save them… <<include "lab">>

You clench your fists hard enough to feel your nails bite crescents into your palms. You swear then and there to make them pay in blood. <<include "lab">>

You have to squash the itch of your curiosity. There will be time later to pore over the Equalists' methods. <<include "lab">>

You feel only a dull emptiness. This is the world you live in. <<include "lab">>

You step forward and lay a hand on Trouble's quivering shoulders for a moment. After a beat of silence, he slowly relaxes, and he nods at you. He doesn't smile, but it's something. You step away again. <<include "lab">>

Cautiously, you approach the table holding the black orb. You notice as you approach that there are dull red swirls inside it—as if it contains red-lit storm clouds within. It seems inactive at the moment, but you can't prevent the feeling of dread that steals over you as you stare at it… <i>That's some cursed shit right there</i>, Trouble thinks, staring alongside you. <i>Let's not kak with it.</i> <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Turn away.' 'turnawayfromorb'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Touch it...' 'touchtheorb'>><<setintelligence -1>><<setcourage +3>><<sethealth -10>><</link>></li> </ul>

You turn away. Trouble's right; nothing good can come of disturbing that thing. <<include "lab">>

As soon as your fingertips brush against the orb's black, glassy surface, the thing emits a dull red flash—as if flaring in anger—and you immediately feel a terrible searing sensation shooting up your hand. You snatch your hand back, biting viciously down on your tongue to keep from crying out. In the pitch of the room, you can see that your fingers have been strangely blackened—as if you'd plunged them into a fire. Trouble hisses through his teeth and grabs your hand to examine it. You wait for anything more—cursed objects will often exact something terrible upon its victim, if that's what this orb is—but nothing else happens. However, your insides continue to squirm with discomfort and unease. Touching that orb was like touching so contrary to you—so opposite of your own soul—that, for a brief moment, you felt as if you were standing on the edge of a precipice, staring into an all-consuming abyss. Strange… <<include "lab">>

It's not long before you blunder into a wide, round chamber lined with manacles and brackets set into the walls. For a moment you think this might be where they kept the children—but closer examination shows that this room hasn't been used in a long, long time. You don't want to think what it <i>was</i> used for—you just sigh and turn back around to retrace your steps. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Take the right path now.' 'rightway3'>><</link>></li> </ul>

You can feel Trouble growing restless as you exit the room and creep through the corridors once again. His shoulders twitch, and his hand flexes against his gun over and over. You can sense that his itch to kill some Equalists is stronger than ever. You reach another—and, you hope, the final—fork in the tunnels, with one path leading right and the other shooting left. Now, when you listen carefully, you can hear soft whimpers coming from the right corridor, and the deep rumble of adult voices coming from the left. Trouble jerks his head at you, motioning right. <i>I can hear the children over there.</i> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "rightway4part2">><</link>></center>

Prowling silently down the right tunnel, you quickly reach a strong iron door with a small slit at eye level. Peeking inside, you see the huddled figures of nine or ten children: some holding each other, some clasping their knees and crying softly. You nod at Trouble, who positions himself back down the hall in case an Equalist decides to check on their victims. There's a large, heavy padlock keeping the door shut, made of brittle iron that's been rusted in the cold and damp. <<include "lock">>

Laying your palm on the lock, you imagine it unclasping and coming loose in your hand—then you <i>push</i> your magic and willpower at the image, willing it to come true. A warm buzz shoots through your palm—and then you're holding the lock as it comes free from the door. <<include "escape">>

You always knew this thing would come in handy. After some fumbling—luckily, the lock is very basic—you hear a satisfying clicking sound and barely catch the heavy object before it falls away from the door. <<include "escape">>

"Hello?" you whisper, your voice already hoarse from disuse. "Are any of you injured?" None of the children stir, as if they hadn't heard you. You wonder if they're used to ignoring whatever temptations or delusions the Equalists must subject them to down here. <<include "lock">>

A few hard kicks to the door fail to do anything but make a racket. Trouble seizes your ankle just as you reel back for another kick and hisses, "<i>Are you crazy?!</i> You're going to bring every cultist here down on our heads!" <<include "lock">>

Groping around in the dark yields a long, warped piece of metal, not dissimilar to a crowbar. You jam it between the lock's loop and the door and strain for a moment, feeling the lock yield under the pressure. It pops open and falls to the ground. <<include "escape">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "letthekidsout">><</link>></center>

You ease the door open, taking care not to alert either the Equalists or startle the children within. A dozen eyes light up in the dark as they turn to you: they are children of all age and sizes, the oldest being around twelve. All are ragged-looking, but not as terrible as you might have expected: probably the Equalists wanted their test subjects in good condition. For a moment no one speaks, and it's as if the room is holding its breath. The very walls seem to tense like taut lungs. Trouble moves into the room from behind you, pulling the door closed until it's only open by a crack. "You kids all right?" he asks softly. Again, no one speaks. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Everyone, stay calm. We\'re here to rescue you."' 'escape2'>><<setcourage +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Is anyone hurt? Can you stand?"' 'escape2'>><<setcompassionate +2>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"It\'s good that you\'re staying silent. Easier to escape."' 'itsgoodthatyourestayingsilent'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Conjure a witchlight so you can get a look at their faces better.' 'conjureawitchlight'>><<setmagic +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Trouble shoots you a glance, as if to say, <i>I don't think that's why they're silent</i>, but moves further into the room without comment. <<include "escape2">>

As soon as you do this, most of the children cry out in almost hysterical terror, flinching back from you and fleeing to the corners of the room. One clutches his head as he screams, trembling, "<i>Put it out! Put it out!</i>" Trouble grabs your wrist, hard enough to make the light go out. "They're scared of magic," he hisses at you, though he doesn't seem angry. "Poor kids think you're one of <i>them</i>." Ah: of course the children would have been conditioned to fear magic and Mages with all their hearts. Feeling terrible, you put your hands up in the air to show the children you mean no harm. None of them move from their positions in the corner. "I'm sorry," you tell them, in a voice you'd use to coax a wild animal. "I'm very sorry. I wasn't thinking." <<include "escape2">>

For a moment, the children only continue to watch you, their eyes glowing in the dark like they're a family of shivering raccoons. Noticing this, you feel your gorge rise: that can't be the <i>iladrin</i> in their eyes, can it? Then a little boy whose hair sticks straight up says hoarsely: "Who're you?" "We're Shepherds," you tell him, keeping your voice quiet so they'll match your volume. "We've come to rescue you." The children begin to stir at this, though they still seem very timid. "Really?" a girl clutching a smaller boy to her side whispers. She seems skeptical, but there's that spark of hope. "How'd you know we were here?" "Do you know a boy named Hal?" At this, they all surge to their feet. Though none approach you directly, their interest suddenly converges on you, giving you the sense of being crowded. Whispers and murmurs of <i>"they know Hal!"</i> fill the room. "But Hal's dead," the youngest child states flatly. He's a scrawny boy no older than seven. "He ain't," Trouble insists softly, lapsing into a rougher city accent as he talks to the children. "He escaped and made it back home. And from him we figured out where you all went. What they've been doing to you." At this, the children's wariness crumbles, and they all drift forward, their little hands reaching out to touch your cloaks as if to ensure you're real. You study them in the half-light: although they're pale from lack of sunlight and covered in soot and red dirt, they seem relatively well-fed and healthy. None are injured, and they stand with relative ease. Then you think back to what you saw in the other rooms, and your stomach sinks. On the surface, at least, none of them seem possessed. But Thralls never do. But there will be time for that fear later: for now the two of you busy yourselves with checking the children over for hidden injuries, murmuring to them soothingly and gently. Pretty rapidly they begin to trust you, and soon an air of excitement warms the freezing air in the chamber as the children realize they might be getting out. They tell you that they are the only children in the place, and—as far as they can tell—the Equalists number only a dozen, and all of them are present in the hideout tonight. It's a miracle you haven't run into them sooner. "Their big boss is here, too," the girl with her brother tells you. You glance at her. "Big boss?" "Blaphemel. He's scary. We ain't ever seen him, but you can feel when he's around. He makes the Catchers go crazy." <i>That</i> doesn't sound ominous at all. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "escape3">><</link>></center>

Finally Trouble straightens, peeks his head out of the door to make sure the hallway is still clear, then turns back to you. "One of us is going to have to lead the kids out," he says matter-of-factly. "Can't risk them getting caught in a crossfire. But the other one's going to have to go kill the Equalists. We're not letting them get away again. They're never going to repeat this or hurt anyone else—not if we can help it." "Agreed," you whisper back. "But who does what?" The blond sniper makes a face. "What do you think? I'm never good at making these calls." Before you can answer, however, the little girl with her younger brother grabs Trouble's sleeve. "I want to go with you," she says adamantly. The other children chime in with a chorus of agreement: they seem to want to follow Trouble. He looks at you sheepishly. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Tough crowd..."' 'toughcrowd'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You take them to safety. I\'ve got this."' 'escape4'>><<setcourage +1>><<settrouble +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"No way. You deal with the Equalists, I\'ll take the kids out."' 'nowayyoudealwith'>><<setcourage -3>><</link>></li> </ul>

"Sorry," Trouble whispers. "Kids, uh, like me, I guess. I don't feel good about leaving you to it, though." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I\'ll be fine."' 'escape4'>><<setcourage +1>><<settrouble +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You owe me."' 'escape4'>><<settrouble -1>><<setcunning +1>><<setcourage -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I guess we have no choice. If we leave together, the Equalists might get away."' 'escape4'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

But one little boy fairly shouts, "No! We want to go with <i>him</i>!" The other children try to hush him, and soon enough it turns into a scuffle. You manage to get them quiet before any Equalists hear you, but it's clear that the decision has been made for you. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"...Fuck."' 'escape4'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'You sigh. "I guess I\'m doing this, then."' 'escape4'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Rotten kids..."' 'escape4'>><</link>></li> </ul>

<<set $confrontequalists to true>> For a moment Trouble makes a face, clearly not liking this idea. He seems to struggle with himself for a few silent moments, before he finally says in a strained voice: "…You sure?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Yes. You\'re going to kill these bastards yourself.' 'escape5'>><<setcompassionate -5>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Yes. Trouble has such an ugly history with them that it\'s better if you do it instead.' 'escape5'>><<setcompassionate +5>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Not really, but this is what you signed up for.' 'escape5'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Trouble tsks softly, but after another moment, he acquiesces. "All right, fine—maybe a Mage like you will stand a better chance against them anyway." But he's obviously unhappy with the idea. He reaches out to grip your shoulder with vice-like strength. "But you be careful, you hear me? If you get yourself hurt, I'll never forgive you. Or myself." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Don\'t worry, I\'ll be fine."' 'dontworryillbefine'>><<setcourage +1>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <<if $attractedto is not "women">><li><<link '"Worried about me, are you?" <b>[FLIRT]</b>' 'worriedaboutmeareyou'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link '"Oh, I\'ll be careful, all right. You can count on that."' 'ohillbecarefulallright'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"This will be a piece of cake."' 'thiswillbeapieceofcake'>><<setcourage +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"If I get hurt, I\'ll make sure you never hear the end of it."' 'ifigethurtillmakesure'>><<settrouble -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

He grimaces, but seems to reluctantly believe you. "All right, then. But if you ever breathe a word of this to Blade, he'll have my head." <<include "escape6">>

He snorts. "'Course I am. I'm sending a lone recruit into a literal den of lions. I must be mad." <<include "escape6">>

He nods. "Good." <<include "escape6">>

He smiles briefly. "That's what I like to hear." <<include "escape6">>

Trouble doesn't smile. "Let's hope it never comes to that." <<include "escape6">>

He turns and withdraws a small package from the side of his belt: you take it for him without thinking and then pale when you realize what you're holding. Trouble has just handed you a whopping parcel of explosives. Has he been carrying these with him all night?! "I'll set these up on the way out," Trouble says nonchalantly, taking the package back. "When you get up to the surface, we'll blow the whole place to Hael. Can't afford to leave any traces. With how history's gone, someone else would just find this place again and start it all over if they got the chance." You nod, and watch as the children form a solemn chain of linked hands according to Trouble's stern instructions. They can't afford to lose one child on their way back up the tunnels. One of them tells you that the Equalists are most likely in their eating area down the hall to your right: the direction you heard the adult voices drifting from. Another says they likely won't realize the children are gone for hours, as they never check up on their victims until dawn. How the children have managed to keep track of the time down here, you don't know. You start getting your weapons ready, feeling strangely calm. When you signed up for the Shepherds, you were told that most of the people—things—you would kill were Endarkened, maybe Tainted creatures and a Thrall or two. But deciding to do this means slaughtering other Mages: your own kind. They've committed atrocities, of course, and there's no doubt in your mind that they can't stay alive. They'd either find a way to escape the Autarchy's imprisonment or pass on their secrets to other crazed followers with time. Trouble is right: the Equalists and their compound must be destroyed. Still… have you ever killed other people before? <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'No... never. I\'ve only killed Endarkened creatures.' 'escape7'>><<setcompassionate +5>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Yes, I have killed other people, but only ever in self-defense.' 'escape7'>><<setcompassionate -2>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Yes, I have killed other people when they deserved it, or to protect others--just like now.' 'escape7'>><<setcompassionate -5>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Yes, I have killed a lot of people. This is nothing new.' 'escape7'>><<setcompassionate -10>><</link>></li> </ul>

Suddenly Trouble turns to you and pulls you into a rough embrace. "I mean it, <<c firstname>>—be careful," he growls in your ear. "Don't make me regret leaving you behind." You nod. Before the two of you can say anything else, he's turning and slipping out the door—leading the children away and back up into the dark. <<include "timetokill">>

<<nobr>><<set $childrendead to true>><<achieve "achieve_troubledpast">><<achieve "achieve_restraint">><<notify_achievement "I'll Pay Thy Toll" "Prevented Trouble from confronting the Equalists with guns blazing.">><<set $encounteredblaphemel to true>>/*<<if settings.music is true>><<audio "dungeon" volume 0 fadeoverto 10 0.1>><<timed 30s>><<audio "dungeon" fadeoverto 120 0>><</timed>><</if>>*/<</nobr>>You slip through a small wooden hatch in the inner wall of the mausoleum, emerging from the other side into a darkened, musty tunnel. It seems just as deserted as one would expect—but you know that if the Equalists have managed to stay hidden for this long, it wouldn't be so easy to just stumble across them. You glance at Trouble, and he gives you a sharp nod. Onward. You shuffle forward and begin to descend down the throat of the tunnel into its gut. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "attack2">><</link>></center>

The tunnels under Haven, you know, were once used to transport Diminished slaves into the city after the Castigation. Some years after, a controversial bill passed in the Consortium outlawing slavery: as a result, the tunnels were largely abandoned, sealed up, and repurposed to become a vast underground network in which the nameless dead were kept. The catacombs. But now the Equalists have repurposed this place, reverted it back into the hellish underground highway it used to be back in those dark days. You catch glimpses of torture chambers, chains and hooks dangling from ceilings and coated in rust-like blood; carts and cages for transporting bodies, both dead and alive. That's all you get a sense of before you barrel around one corner and come face-to-face with an Equalist. He's a slight man, tousle-haired, looking positively shocked to see you. Trouble opens fire. <i>Bang-bang-bang!</i> The sound of his rifle is enormous in the closed space of the tunnels, and as the Equalist is blown off his feet only to slump against the far wall, bloodied—four more appear at the end of the tunnel, drawn by the loud sound. One takes off running while the others begin to shout for backup. <<nobr>> <<set $fire to "">> <<set $fire2 to "">> <<set $fire3 to "">> <<set $fire4 to "">><</nobr>> <ul class="choices"> <<if $mainweapon is "sword">><li><<link 'Charge them, sword swinging.' 'chargethemswordswinging'>><<settrouble -1>><<setintelligence -1>><<sethealth -5>><<setsword +3>><<setstrength +3>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $mainweapon is "bow">><li><<link 'Fire at them with your bow.' 'fireatthemwithyourbow'>><<setbow +3>><<setstrength +3>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $mainweapon is "dagger">><li><<link 'Charge them, slashing with your knife.' 'chargethemslashingwith'>><<settrouble -1>><<setintelligence -1>><<sethealth -5>><<setdagger +3>><<setstrength +3>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $mainweapon is "gun">><li><<link 'Add your own bullets to the fray.' 'addyourownbullets'>><<setstrength +3>><<setgun +3>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $specialization is "battle">><li><<link 'Send a bolt of magical lightning crashing through them.' 'sendaboltofmagicallightning'>><<setmagic +3>><<setastral +3>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $specialization is "elementalist">><li><<link 'Send a fireball blazing down the corridor.' 'sendafireballblazing'>><<setmagic +3>><<setastral +3>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $specialization is "healer">><li><<link 'Hang back and heal Trouble when he needs it.' 'hangbackandhealtrouble'>><<setmagic +3>><<setastral +3>><<settrouble +1>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $specialization is "enchanter">><li><<link 'Put them under a spell of paralysis.' 'putthemunderaspell'>><<setmagic +3>><<setpsionic +3>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $specialization is "conjurer">><li><<link 'Magically pull their weapons towards you, yanking them out of their hands.' 'magicallypulltheirweapons'>><<setmagic +3>><<setarcane +3>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $specialization is "shifter">><li><<link 'Turn your skin to tough leather.' 'turnyourskin'>><<setmagic +3>><<setarcane +3>><</link>></li><</if>> </ul>

Behind you, you hear Trouble curse; you've jumped straight into the fray with your close-range weapon, inadvertently getting in his way! You whirl, swinging your sword so swiftly that you knock an Equalist's head clean off his shoulders. His blood is hot and bright as it sprays across your shirtfront. As he slumps to the ground, you raise your sword and stab his comrade; behind you, Trouble is doing the same with his own knife, no longer able to use his gun. <<include "attack3">>

You add your arrows to the fray, piercing one Equalist cleanly through the throat and the other through the eye. You and Trouble take down the rest in a flurry of projectiles too quick and numerous to dodge. <<include "attack3">>

Behind you, you hear Trouble curse; you've jumped straight into the fray with your close-range weapon, inadvertently getting in his way! You stab one Equalist in the throat, his blood hot and bright as it gushes out over your wrist. As he slumps to the ground, you pull your dagger out and slash his comrade across the face; behind you, Trouble is doing the same with his own knife, no longer able to use his gun. <<include "attack3">>

You pull out your gun and shoot an Equalist right between the eyes. He goes down, his forehead smoking, his limbs jittering and twitching as if he's been electrocuted. You and Trouble take the rest down in a flurry of bullets too quick and numerous to dodge. <<include "attack3">>

You chain together a bolt of white lightning, something that looks like molten, liquified fire and light, and send it bursting down the corridor. The very air itself catches fire, bringing with it the smell of burnt ozone; the lightning passes through the line of Equalists and kills them instantly. <<include "attack3">>

You send an enormous ball of fire and gas rocketing down the tunnel, incinerating every Equalist within its path. Not even their flesh is left behind: they turned to blackened skeletons within an instant. <<include "attack3">>

Trouble nods at you in thanks, but otherwise doesn't seem to notice either you healing him or his minor injuries. He takes out any Equalist who comes close to you. <<include "attack3">>

You impose the force of your will on theirs, clamping down and immobilizing the Equalists in place. They freeze, going as still as statues as their minds struggle and wrestle with yours—and then Trouble mows them all down with a hailstorm of bullets. <<include "attack3">>

Exclamations of surprise and dismay accompany your motion as all of the Equalists' weapons go flying out of their hands, lodging in the far wall. Disarming them gives Trouble the opportunity to mow them down with another hailstorm of bullets. <<include "attack3">>

The move surprises the Equalists enough for Trouble to take them out with another flurry of bullets. You feel a projectile from their side graze you, but thanks to your tougher skin, you hardly feel it. <<include "attack3">>

<<nobr>><<notify_achievement "Troubled Past" "Allowed Trouble to exact his blood revenge.">> <<if $mainweapon is "bow">><<set $fire to "fire">><<set $fire2 to "shoot">><<set $fire3 to "reload">><<set $fire4 to "arrow">><</if>> <<if $mainweapon is "sword">><<set $fire to "stab">><<set $fire2 to "pierce">><<set $fire3 to "hack">><<set $fire4 to "sword">><</if>> <<if $mainweapon is "dagger">><<set $fire to "stab">><<set $fire2 to "pierce">><<set $fire3 to "hack">><<set $fire4 to "knife">><</if>> <<if $mainweapon is "gun">><<set $fire to "fire">><<set $fire2 to "shoot">><<set $fire3 to "reload">><<set $fire4 to "bullet">><</if>> <</nobr>> What ensues is a quick and bloody battle. You pursue the Equalists down the rabbit's warren of their hideout, burning, hacking, and slashing your way through their ranks. You think you kill ten, then fifteen, then twenty—and soon their numbers begin to thin. Some vanish behind confusing corners and bends in the tunnels, but most you're able to hunt down and slay. Trouble has a grim look of determination on his face, as if you've been tasked with eliminating vermin. In every breath, in every bullet he puts between an Equalist's eyes, you read his only thought: <i>Kill them all</i>. And you think you do, when all is said and done. Within the hour you're covered in blood, and your ears are ringing and your eyes and nose are stinging with the scents of gunpowder and cordite—but the tunnels, at last, lie still and empty. Behind you is a trail lined with the corpses of the dead and the blood and twitching flesh of the dying. You took no mercy and left no survivors. Panting, Trouble draws the back of his gloved hand across his brow. "Think we got 'em all?" he croaks. His voice is harsh and hoarse, but you don't think he's said a word the entire time you've been down here. You can't read the look in his eyes. Is he relieved to have gotten the chance to destroy his once-tormentors? Or is he just angry and looking for more? Hot emotion seems to thrum from him in waves. You take a moment to listen: there's no sound coming from anywhere in the hideout except for the groaning and whimpering of those behind you. "I think we're clear," you tell him.<<nobr>><<audio ":playing" fadeoverto 30 0>><<if $courage gte 25>> You flex your hands, though they're not shaking. <<else>> You flex your hands; despite yourself, they seem to be shaking badly. <</if>><</nobr>> Trouble cocks a look at you. "You all right?" he asks then. A strange look crosses his face. "You… this isn't your first time, you know…?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I\'ve never killed anyone before. Except Endarkened."' 'iveneverkilledanyonebefore'>><<setcompassionate +5>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'ve only ever killed people in self-defense before."' 'iveonlykilledpeopleinself'>><<setcompassionate -2>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Yes, I\'m fine. I\'ve killed people to protect the innocent before."' 'yesimfineivekilledpeople'>><<setcompassionate -5>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'m fine. I\'ve killed lots of people before."' 'imfineivekilledlotsofpeople'>><<setcompassionate -10>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Don\'t act like you care if I\'m fine."' 'dontactlikeyoucareifimfine'>><<setcompassionate -20>><<settrouble -15>><</link>></li> </ul>

He lays a hand on your shoulder. "I'm sorry," he says, his voice heavy. "I'm sorry I put you in this position, then. But… at least we're protecting others by doing this." <<include "attack4">>

He lays a hand on your shoulder. "Hey," he says, his voice soft. "I know this was… gruesome. But we are defending people, and ourselves. By making sure they're dead, we're keeping the city safe." <<include "attack4">>

Trouble nods. "That's… good, I guess, if good is the word for it. But if anything's bothering you, you tell me, all right?" <<include "attack4">>

Trouble nods slowly. "Got it." <<include "attack4">>

Trouble's eyes widen at your harsh tone, and he frowns. But he doesn't say anything for a long moment. <<include "attack4">>

Then he looks away. "Let's see to the children." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "attack5">><</link>></center>

But no matter how hard you look, you can't find the kidnapped children anywhere. You look in every inch of the hideout: every nook and cranny, every unfamiliar turn. You split up and methodically search foot-by-foot, stepping over the lumpen shapes of the dead. All of the chambers are empty, or full of dead, adult Equalists. Each tunnel eventually leads back to the hatch that you came from, and no one got past you—certainly not someone towing a bunch of children. Right…? Trouble punches a wall hard enough to split his knuckles. "SHIT!" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Calm down. We need to think."' 'calmdownweneedtothink'>><<settrouble -1>><<setintelligence +1>><<set $troubleharden += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"We must have missed something."' 'wemusthavemissedsomething'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Maybe they were never here?"' 'maybetheywereneverhere'>><<settrouble +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You don\'t think... someone escaped with the children, do you?..."' 'youdontthinksomeoneescaped'>><<settrouble -10>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Well, this was a waste of time."' 'wellthiswasawasteoftime'>><<settrouble -20>><</link>></li> </ul>

He glares at you. "Think about what?" "There must be something we're missing," you say. "A hidden chamber, a secret door, a lever you pull to open a trap door. Something. They didn't just vanish into thin air." <<include "attack6">>

Trouble runs an agitated hand through his hair. "But what? We've searched every inch of this place!" "There must be something we're missing," you say. "A hidden chamber, a secret door, a lever you pull to open a trap door. Something. They didn't just vanish into thin air." <<include "attack6">>

"Maybe they're being held somewhere else," you offer. "Maybe there's another base." Trouble stares at you, though you see the hope growing in his eyes. "You think so? But… the trail lead here…"<<nobr>><<if $rika is true>> He chews his lip. "And you saw this place in Hal's memories." <<elseif $ratvisit is true>> He chews his lip. "And the Rat said this was where they were."<</if>><</nobr>> "Maybe they moved them before we got here," you suggested. "Could have been a few hours before we arrived, or maybe even days. In any case, they're not <i>here</i>. We need to go back and investigate more leads." <<include "attack6">>

He stares at you, aghast. "Can't be," he begins, speaking as if through numb lips. "We had the entrance to our backs—they would have had to get past us to escape—" "They're Mages," you point out. "Mages who don't have scruples about using their magic illegally. They could have transported the children away. Teleported them, turned them invisible." There's a long, horrible moment as you both consider that. Trouble begins to say, "No. I don't believe it. They <i>must</i> be here, or else they were never here to begin with—" <<include "attack6">>

Trouble glares at you. <<include "attack6">>

But before he can formulate a proper response, you hear voices near the entrance of the tunnel. <i>"Inquisitors here! Throw down your weapons <b>now</b>!"</i> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Oh No...</span></div></div>' "attack7">><</link>></center>

Trouble looks at you with a scowl. "Shit." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "attack8">><</link>></center>

<<set $equalistscompoundintact to true>>After a lengthy period of time explaining yourselves to the Inquisitors—who likely would have arrested you just for all the blood covering your clothes, if not for your Shepherd badges—a team of dozens takes over searching the Equalists' compound, as well as looking for the missing children. "They're <i>Norm</i> children, by the way," Trouble says as he uses a towel to mop blood from his blond hair. "In case that lights a fire under your arses. Norm children kidnapped by insane Mages. It'll look good for you bastards if you find them, so hop to it." He frowns, half to himself. "They've got to be somewhere. Whether it's here in the city or out—" The Inquisitor looks politely-bored. "Your diligence is noted, Vice-Commander." Trouble scowls. The two of you watch for a moment as Inquisitor agents vanish into the mausoleum, then reemerge carrying strange artifacts and pieces of equipment, like a line of ants entering and exiting their busy hive. "You think they'll find them?" Trouble asks you, looking tired and miserable as the rain pelts his face. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"If we couldn\'t find them, they won\'t."' 'ifwecouldntfindthemtheywont'>><<settrouble -3>><<setcompassionate -5>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Maybe. Probably. They have more resources than we do."' 'maybeprobablytheyhavemoreresources'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I don\'t know."' 'maybeidontknow'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"They\'ll definitely find them."' 'theylldefinitelyfindthem'>><<settrouble +1>><<setcompassionate +2>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"We\'ll keep looking, ourselves. We won\'t stop until we find them."' 'wellkeeplookingourselves'>><<setcompassionate +2>><<settrouble +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Trouble closes his eyes, as if you'd struck him. "Let's go home," he says, his voice very low and weary. "We've done enough for tonight." <<include "endchapter">>

Trouble nods, looking as if he wants very much to believe you. "Let's go home, <<c firstname>>," he says, his voice very subdued. "We've done enough for tonight." <<include "endchapter">>

He nods, looking more defeated than you've ever seen him. "Let's go home, <<c firstname>>," he says, his voice very subdued. "We've done enough for tonight." <<include "endchapter">>

Trouble nods, looking as if he wants very much to believe you. "Let's go home, <<c firstname>>," he says, his voice very subdued and eary. "We've done enough for tonight." <<include "endchapter">>

Trouble's smile flickers as briefly as a candleflame. "Yeah," he says softly. "For now, let's go home, <<c firstname>>. We've done enough for tonight." <<include "endchapter">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "timetokill2">><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<set $childrensafe to true>><<audio ":playing" fadeoverto 10 0>><</nobr>>When you're sure Trouble and the children are far enough away to be safe from the crossfire, you slip out of the room and down the corridor as silent as a shadow. The blood is thrumming hot and bright in your body, but strangely, your head feels clear and calm. For whatever morbid reason, this feels right. This feels like something you're supposed to do. Then the world shifts on its axis. A burst of pain streaks through you like a hot yellow comet. You stumble, clutching your head, the locus of the agony, before a strange, timbrous voice rattles through you like dry leaves blown by an autumn wind. <b><i>Careful.</i></b> <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '<i>Who are you? Who\'s there?</i>' 'timetokill3'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Ignore the voice and keep moving.' 'ignorethevoiceandkeepmoving'>><</link>></li> </ul>

You don't make it two steps before the voice interrupts again. <<include "timetokill3">>

Horribly, you notice that the speaker sounds like a chorus of voices—not just one person—sounding everywhere, all at once. One of the voices even sounds like your own. <b><i>Danger…</i></b> You shake your head vigorously like you're clearing your ears of water. What danger? What's going on? <b><i>Blaphemel</i></b>, the voice says. <i><b>A Faceless Lord, an Infernal Prince, a Defiler and Seducer of Man.</b></i> <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '<i>Blaphemel is the name of the Equalists\' sponsor...</i>' 'blasphemelisthename'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '<i>Okay, seriously, why the Hael are you in my head?</i>' 'okayseriouslywhythehael'>><</link>></li> </ul>

<b><i>Yes</i></b>, the voice tells you. <i><b>It is an primeval, ancient, wretched demon, a piece of Tapyt's very essence. The befoulers that dwell here turned to it in desperation, seeking the power to achieve their goals…</b></i> <i><b>But instead it has glut on their ambition and pride, whispering poison into their ears until it drove them mad.</b></i> <<include "timetokill4">>

The voice ignores you and continues on as if you hadn't spoken. <i><b>You must be wary. Blaphemel is an primal, ancient, wretched demon, a piece of Tapyt's very essence. The befoulers that dwell here have turned to it in desperation, seeking the power to achieve their goals…</b></i> <i><b>But instead it has glut on their ambition and pride, whispering poison into their ears until it drove them mad.</b></i> <<include "timetokill4">>

You shudder, feeling bile rise into your throat at the thought. A facet of Tapyt himself? It seems impossible… <b><i>It is possible</i></b>, the voice insists. <b><i>This is no mere Imp. This is a face of the Nightwalker himself, come to wreak havoc on the mortal realm and draw power back to its beating heart in Hael…</i></b> You want to close your eyes, but the voice rings just as clearly even when you do. How are you supposed to defeat such a thing by yourself? <i><b>Use the Words,</b></i> the voice whispers to you, fading already to a wisp. <i><b>Mortal weapons cannot kill it.</b></i> <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '<i>No. I\'ll never use the Words again! Not after what happened!</i>' 'noillneverusethewords'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '<i>All right. Thank you...</i>' 'allrightthankyou'>><</link>></li> </ul>

The voice is a mere whisper now, but still you can feel the reverberation of disapproval ringing down your spine. <i><b>Then pray your magic is powerful enough to defeat the Defiler,</b></i> it says. <i><b>Otherwise it will consume your soul and drag you with it back to Hael.</b></i> <<include "timetokill5">>

The voice pauses now, as if in thought; in the background the great clamor of voices rises in a wordless roar. Finally it says: <b><i>If you are strong enough, you may not need the Words. If your magic is powerful, you may rend the Defiler to its pieces, scattering its essence to the winds and destroying it utterly.</i></b> <i><b>But it will be very, very difficult. If you are not powerful enough… it will close its jaws around your soul and drag you with it back to Hael.</b></i> <<include "timetokill5">>

With that, the voice vanishes, the ocean-roar of its presence easing until it's just you, standing and blinking dumbly in the dark. It seems you've been carrying another passenger around in your head all these years… <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Yes, that seems about right. It really fits the cadence of my strange life so far.' 'yesthatseemsaboutright'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Oh, $god, am I going crazy? I\'d better not tell anybody about this...' 'ohgodamigoingcrazy'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'I just imagined it. It wasn\'t a real voice. Just my subconscious...' 'ijustimaginedit'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '<i>I need to get this thing out of my brain <b>now</b>.</i>' 'ineedtogetthisthingout'>><</link>></li> </ul>

It's almost funny, how numb you've gotten to the truly bizarre things that tend to happen to you. This isn't really all that out of place, if you think about it. But if you've had something else in your head all the time—why did it only reveal itself to you now?… <<include "timetokill6">>

It's almost too much for a person to take. The words, your hometown, and now you're hearing someone <i>talk</i> to you? You'd better keep a lid on all of this, or the Shepherds are going to put you away in an asylum… <<include "timetokill6">>

Yes, that's it. You don't have a voice in your head. It was just your danger instincts kicking in to warn you. Yeah. That's right… <<include "timetokill6">>

But what is it? And why did it only come out and reveal itself to you <i>now</i>?… <<include "timetokill6">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "timetokill7">><</link>></center>

<<if $mainweapon is "bow">><<set $mainweapon to "arrows">><</if>>Eventually you have to get moving again. You can hear the muttering conversation of voices—human ones, now, adult and largely male—somewhere down the hallway. Your head still aches fiercely from the interruption you've just suffered, and when you come to a halt outside yet another rotting door, you pause for a moment and realize you haven't exactly formulated a plan. What will you do? <<include "confrontchoice">>

<<if settings.music is true>>/*<<audio ":playing" fadeout>>*/<<audio "battle2" volume 0.1 loop play>><</if>>You burst through the door with your spells already blasting. The Equalist closest to the door is dead before he can even scream; the others, sitting together at a low table, scramble to their feet with a series of shouts. <<nobr>><<if ($magic gte 25) or ($astral gte 20)>> Black fire blazes from the corner, and you throw up a translucent shield to block you from its impact. It dissipates harmlessly against your ward, and you surge to your feet and fight on. <<else>> You see the blaze of black fire from the corner too late to dodge it, and it feels as if hot acid has been splashed up your arm. You grit your teeth against the pain and fight on. <</if>><</nobr>> Another dead, then another. You cast and slam your magic around, <<nobr>><<if ($astral gt $psionic) and ($astral gt $arcane)>>cracking necks from across the room, setting things aflame,<<elseif ($psionic gt $astral) and ($psionic gt $arcane)>>paralyzing cultists from across the room, turning them against each other,<<elseif ($arcane gt $astral) and ($arcane gt $psionic)>>summoning weapons from the ether, shifting your skin to become steel-hard, <</if>><</nobr>> and the Equalists, taken by surprise and used to fighting against children, crumple before you like leaves before a whirlwind. You raise your hand and a dirty-haired Mage falls with a fount of blood gushing from his eyes and mouth. You strike again and again, and two others sag to the floor. Heat fills you. Somehow, this feels easy. Somehow, this feels right. There were twelve Equalists in the room when you first burst in: exactly the number that the children told you. There's only one left when you suddenly feel something: the sudden sensation of oil filling your mouth, the odor of something rotten invading your senses. You pause and look up. <<include "rikablaphemel">>

<<nobr>><<if $cunning gte 20>> You press your ear to the door, but it's so thick that you can only make out a few muffled words: there are several adult voices murmuring, at least over ten, and they all seem to be deferring to somebody: you hear snatches of "<i>Yes, my lord,</i>" and "<i>Anything, my lord</i>…" <br><br> But the voice you hear replying is high and female-sounding. Strange. <<include "confrontchoice">> <<else>> You press your ear to the door, but the wood is so thick that you can't make out anything. <<include "confrontchoice">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<if settings.music is true>>/* <<audio ":playing" fadeout>> */<<audio "battle2" volume 0.1 loop play>><</if>>You slam open the door with your $mainweapon at the ready. The Equalist closest to the door is dead before he can even scream; the others, sitting together at a low table, scramble to their feet with a series of shouts. <<nobr>><<if $strength gte 20>> Black fire blazes from the corner, and you duck and roll just in time to dodge it. You surge to your feet and fight on. <<else>> You see the blaze of black fire from the corner too late to dodge it, and it feels as if hot acid has been splashed up your arm. You grit your teeth against the pain and fight on. <</if>><</nobr>> Another dead, then another. You $fire2 and $fire and $fire3, and the Equalists, taken by surprise and used to fighting against children, crumple before you like leaves before a whirlwind. You raise your $mainweapon and a dirty-haired Mage falls with a fount of blood gushing from his eye. You strike again and again, and two others sag to the floor. Heat fills you. Somehow, this feels easy. Somehow, this feels right. There were twelve Equalists in the room when you first burst in: exactly the number that the children told you. There's only one left when you suddenly feel something: the sudden sensation of oil filling your mouth, the odor of something rotten invading your senses. You pause and look up. <<include "rikablaphemel">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "rikablaphemel2">><</link>></center>

A little girl is watching you from the corner, but somehow, she looks <i>wrong</i>. A pert little smile is on her face, even as she takes in the massacre… and her eyes are beetle-black. Somehow she gives you the same eerie sensation that the black orb in the other room did… <<nobr>><<if $rika is true>> <i>…Rika?</i> <br><br> <<include "rikanoo">> <<else>> <<include "rikanoo">> <</if>><</nobr>>

You don't have any time to react before she raises a hand and begins to burn you. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "rikanoo2">><<sethealth -50>><</link>></center>

The pain is incredible—like nothing you've ever felt before. It feels as if your very soul is being set on fire. The girl laughs, and her voice is the sound of a demon's. "Brightburner," she crackles. Her skin is peeling from her face like cracks in a porcelain mask. "However did you end up here?" You fall to your knees, hard enough to make your bones rattle. A black hole is being eaten through your heart. Your vision goes dark and spotted around the edges. You hear a shrieking cackle: not from the little girl, but from the one surviving Equalist. "Blaphemel!" he screams. "Blaphemel is our savior! Praise our merciful lord Blaphemel!" His worship seems to make the demon stronger, for the cold acid pain radiating up through your bones grows more potent, sending violet-white blooms of nausea through your body. You cry out. The little girl—no, Blaphemel—smiles. "The Nightwalker will be very pleased to see you dead." <<set $equalistsurvivor to false>> <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Fight back with magic.' 'fightbackwithmagic'>><<if $magic gte 26>><<setmagic +1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Kill the worshipful Equalist.' 'killtheworshipfulequalist'>><<setstrength +1>><<setcunning +1>><<setcompassionate -5>><<if $mainweapon is "bow">><<setbow +1>><<set $fire to "fire">><<set $fire2 to "shoot">><<set $fire3 to "reload">><<set $fire4 to "arrow">><</if>><<if $mainweapon is "gun">><<setgun +1>><<set $fire to "fire">><<set $fire2 to "shoot">><<set $fire3 to "reload">><<set $fire4 to "bullet">><</if>><<if $mainweapon is "sword">><<setsword +1>><<set $fire to "stab">><<set $fire2 to "pierce">><<set $fire3 to "hack">><<set $fire4 to "sword">><</if>><<if $mainweapon is "dagger">><<setdagger +1>><<set $fire to "stab">><<set $fire2 to "pierce">><<set $fire3 to "hack">><<set $fire4 to "knife">><</if>><</link>></li> </ul>

<<nobr>><<if $magic gte 26>> You blast forth every iota of magic in your system, wringing every last drop from your blood as you slam your will up against the demon's, bearing your teeth in a primal scream. You hear a mirroring scream of fury as you feel the Faceless Lord's hold beginning to dissolve, even slightly—and when you look up, you see cold anger in its gaze. <br><br> The little girl reaches up and snaps the neck of her gibbering worshiper, drawing energy from his violent death. <br><br> <<include "blaphemel">> <<else>><<set $equalistsurvivor to true>> You blast forth every iota of magic in your system, wringing every last drop from your blood as you slam your will up against the demon's. But you feel the futility in the gesture: Blaphemel only laughs and increases its hold on you, leaving you wracked on the floor with pain. The worshiper's gibbering rises to an unearthly shriek. <br><br> <<include "blaphemel">> <</if>><</nobr>>

The man's shrieking grows louder and louder as the din in your head strengthens: you nearly think it's the sound of you passing out. But somehow—somehow you fumble for your $mainweapon from the floor with slippery fingers, staggering to your feet and aiming; and in a moment, you've silenced the man's shrieks, your $fire4 piercing cleanly through his brain. In another moment, the Faceless Lord's hold on you has lessened, at least enough for you to think clearly. You meet its eyes and see the cold fury in its gaze as its follower falls to the ground. <<include "blaphemel">>

"You're too late," the Faceless Lord says, contemptuous. "I'm too powerful, even for the likes of you. These <i>fools</i>"—it does not even look at the fallen Equalists around it—"summoned me moons ago, gave me their ambition and all the torture and pain I could want. I seeded madness in their minds and made them give me more. Through all that I've grown strong. Too strong for you, Brightburner." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Why... why are you calling me that?"' 'whywhyareyoucallingme'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Go back to Hael, demon!"' 'gobacktohaeldemon'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Blaphemel laughs, and the sound is like metal nails scraping against glass. "You don't know? Oh, how precious. It's a pity you won't live long enough to find out." <<include "blaphemel2">>

Blaphemel laughs, and the sound is like metal nails scraping against glass. "Oh, I will someday," it coos, drawing closer. "Once I've done my work here and desire time with my newest plaything." It leans close, and its fetid breath is as sweet as rotting flowers. "In the meantime, you can wait for your new master… along with all the souls you Shepherds failed to save." <<include "blaphemel2">>

It raises a hand for the killing blow: you know that with a finality that rings in your very soul. If you are to act, you must act now. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Speak a Word of Power.' 'speakawordofpower'>><<set $godspeaker -= 1>><<set $facelesslordsdead += 1>><<set $blaphemeldead to true>><</link>></li> <<if $magic gte 30>><li><<link 'Destroy it with your magic.' 'destroyitwithyourmagic'>><<set $facelesslordsdead += 1>><<set $blaphemeldead to true>><</link>></li><<else>><<disabled "Destroy it with your magic.">><</if>> </ul>

You speak the Word into the sudden hush of the world. You don't know what it means, or even the shape of it on your tongue; it's as if you spoke the very air or light itself into existence. It has no weight or substance. And yet it strikes the anvil of the world with the force of a great hammer blow; a great reverberation rings in your ears, loud enough to split your soul open, and the air wavers and trembles until you're not sure if it's simply the rattling of your skull that makes your vision shake. The demon's face contorts terribly, and it lets loose a shriek—this time not of anger, but of helpless, panicked fear. That's all it has time to do before there's a rushing sound, like the universe vacuuming up its essence—and then a click, like a key turning into an invisible lock. <<nobr>><<if (($rika is true) or ($rika1 is true and $rika2 is true))>> <br>Before it goes, you feel your own soul reach out and snag hold of something frail and fluttering, something separate from the demon… <br><br> <i>Rika</i>, you think, crading the little spirit close. She was still in the vessel of her body, after all. You shunt her back into her inert frame as the Faceless Lord dissipates with one last shriek. <br> <</if>> <<if $equalistsurvivor is false>> <br>And just like that, Blaphemel is gone. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "speakawordofpower2">><</link>></center> <<else>> <br>And just like that, Blaphemel and its worshiper are… gone. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "speakawordofpower2">><</link>></center> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<audio ":playing" fadeout>>You sink to your knees with relief, gasping for breath in the sudden bubble of new air that seems to have formed around you. Somehow, with dreadful certainty, you know that this time, you have not sent the Faceless Lord somewhere else. You have eradicated it, scrubbed its essence so utterly from the fabric of the universe that it's almost as if the thing had never existed at all. You've killed the Faceless Lord with the unspeakable power that hides inside you.<<nobr>> <<if (($rika is true) or ($rika1 is true and $rika2 is true))>> <<set $rikaalive to true>> <<achieve "achieve_savior">><<notify_achievement "Golden Eyes" "Successfully freed the victims of the Equalists without casualties, and saved the soul of the little girl Rika.">> And saved the innocent soul of its host, Rika: in the last, fading light of the Word of Power as it leaks out into the world, you can see her life force thrumming in her body, the golden energy that seems to beat inside her. Although she's unconscious, you can see no speck of Endarkened taint or Rot remaining within her soul. She's clean of Blaphemel's influence… as is the rest of the world, now. <</if>><</nobr>> Is this what you were given the Words for? <<include "troubleaftermathconfront">>

Your magic erupts from you, through you, in a flash like a burst from the sun. You feel heat and power and blood flowing through you; your vision goes black and then white; and without even realizing it, you find that you're screaming in a tongue that you've never heard and don't recognize. Blaphemel is screaming, too: almost a sound of surprise, then fear. You watch as its flesh blackens and curls back from you, the energy blasting from your body shredding its essence to nothing. The Faceless Lord did not expect this display from you, this intense and consuming power. There's a roar of sound and entropy as Blaphemel warps and twists and then dwindles down, down… down into nothing. And then it dies. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "destroyitwithyourmagic2">><</link>></center>

<<audio ":playing" fadeout>>You collapse to the ground, gasping and choking for breath as all the energy in your body leaves you, all at once. The heat dissipates, leaving you feeling cold and empty… but through that emptiness you can feel Blaphemel's absence. You've destroyed it, eradicated it utterly from this universe. The voice in your head told you it wasn't possible without the Words, but you did it. Is that why the Faceless Lord called you Brightburner? <<include "troubleaftermathconfront">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "troubleaftermathconfront2">><</link>></center>

<<nobr>> <<if $blaphemeldead is true>> <<achieve "achieve_blaphemel">> <<notify_achievement "The First Faceless Lord" "Destroyed Blaphemel, <br> the Seducer, and eradicated its cult.">> <</if>> <<if $rikaalive is true>> Sometime later, you finally emerge from the hideout of the Equalists with Rika's slumbering body in your arms. You find Trouble and the children standing in the muddy cemetery, the children all crowded behind him as Trouble argues with two men in uniform. His eyes light up when he sees you stumbling out, and he rushes at you. You have to put Rika's body down among her friends before he bowls you both over. <<else>> Sometime later, you finally emerge from the hideout of the Equalists to find Trouble and the children standing in the muddy cemetery, the children all crowded behind him as Trouble argues with two men in uniform. His eyes light up when he sees you stumbling out, and he rushes at you. <</if>><</nobr>> "<<c firstname>>!" he exclaims. "Thank God you're okay—holy <i>shit</i>, I was so worried!" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Embrace him.' 'troubleaftermathconfront3'>><<settrouble +3>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Push him off.' 'troubleaftermathconfront3'>><<settrouble -3>><</link>></li> </ul>

He frowns and looks into your face. "Are you all right? What happened in there?" Before you can reply, the two men clear their throats. Trouble's eyes instantly darken. "Can you corroborate his story, Diminished?" one man, a dark-haired and thin-nosed sort, asks. You glance at his medallion: Inquisitors. "Is it true that this place was the breeding ground for a group of Mages who were torturing Norm children?" Trouble looks at you expectantly. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Yes, it\'s all true. They were called the Equalists."' 'yesitsalltrue'>><<setorder -3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"...We don\'t have all the details yet."' 'wedonthaveallthedetails'>><<settrouble -3>><<setorder +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Do you really think we would make something like this up?"' 'doyoureallythinkwewould'>><</link>></li> </ul>

The Inquisitors raise their eyebrows and look at each other. The other one says, this one pale-haired and stocky: "We'll have to go inside and see the evidence for ourselves." <<include "troubleaftermath4">>

Trouble gapes at you. "What—what are you talking about?" he asks in a furious whisper. You make a motion to be quiet. It won't look good for the Diminished if these Inquisitors get this kind of narrative… You watch as they raise their eyebrows and look at each other. "We'll have to go inside and see the evidence for ourselves," the other one, a pale-haired and stocky man, says. <<include "troubleaftermath4">>

Their withering silence is enough answer for you. The Inquisitors look at each other; the other one, a pale-haired and stocky man, says: "We'll have to go inside and see the evidence for ourselves." <<include "troubleaftermath4">>

Trouble abruptly raises something: it looks like a detonator. "Not so fast," he growls. "I don't think I'm going to be letting you lot muck around in there. Who knows where all of that magic kak winds up—or who it's going to be used on next?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Support him. Whatever\'s down there can\'t fall into anyone else\'s hands, let alone the Autarchy\'s.' 'supporthimwhateversdownthere'>><<setcompassionate +3>><<setloyal +3>><<settrouble +1>><<setorder +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Stop him. There is a goldmine of valuable things to examine down there.' 'stophimthereisagoldmine'>><<setloyal -3>><<setintelligence +1>><<setcunning +1>><<settrouble -3>><<set $equalistscompoundintact to true>><<setreputation -5>><<setorder -3>><</link>></li> </ul>

"Do it," you tell him, and Trouble grimly nods. "If you step a foot down there, you'll be incinerated with the rest of it," he tells the Inquisitors—and they back down. <<include "troubleaftermath5">>

Trouble's jaw drops. "You can't be serious, <<c firstname>>!" You shake your head. "I've had enough of my people's artifacts being destroyed by the Autarchy. You don't know, Trouble: it all depends on the person who wields them. The things down there could be put to good use in the right hands." He indicates the Inquisitors, who have the sense to look offended. "You think <i>these</i> are the right hands?!" You stare at him, hard. "It's not your call. They're not your things, not your heritage. Not your jurisdiction. You're not going to cause an underground explosion in the middle of the city." After a long, tense moment, Trouble's breath hisses out from between his teeth… but he lowers the detonator, and the Inquisitors let loose their own breaths. <<include "troubleaftermath5">>

"But if what you say is true," one of the them says slowly, "these children were meant to be vessels of Endarkened. The Mages captured them for that purpose?" His eyes suddenly bulge. "That means they could all be infected with the Rot!" At this, his partner draws his weapon—a long, thin rapier—and all of the children cower back behind you in fear. Trouble jumps in the way without hesitation. "Try it," he snarls at the Inquisitors, hand on his gun, "and I'll blow a hole through your head the size of the goddamn moon." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Impose yourself in the way as well.' 'troubleaftermath6'>><<settrouble +3>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 1>><<setcourage +3>><<setcompassionate +5>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Stand aside and watch.' 'troubleaftermath6'>><<setcourage -3>><<setcompassionate -5>><<settrouble -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Wait, Trouble. How do we know they <i>aren\'t</i> possessed?"' 'waittroublehowdoweknow'>><<settrouble -3>><<setintelligence +1>><<setcunning +3>><</link>></li> </ul>

He gawks at you. "What do you mean? They're perfectly normal!" <<include "troubleaftermath6">>

"You fool," the dark-haired Inquisitor spits. "Not even the children themselves would know they were possessed. That's the entire point! They could all be Thralls waiting to infect the entire city!" You hesitate, and even Trouble flinches. As terrible as the thought is, it's true: you have no real way of sensing if the children are Enthralled, not really. You have no Hunters in the Order, at least not yet, and even the best Mages can miss very slippery demons. It has happened often enough. You look at the children, at their frightened eyes and trembling lips. None of them have said a word, but that could just be their exhaustion, their resignation to having their fates tossed back and forth among their captors. It's usually easy to tell a possessed victim as a Thrall if the victim is unwilling to accept its demonic parasite; the struggle between two minds is evident, and the victim acts unlike themselves. But there are always some who welcome the demon, and the power it brings—and besides that, some Endarkened are simply very clever. Clever enough to trick a mortal child, in any case. And a demon holding that kind of power can work dark magic from within its victim's pilfered soul—just as you saw with Rika—and, even more urgently, it can sense when it has been detected. The Endarkened looks out through stolen eyes, reads the faces of those around it, and knows who has guessed the truth. Such persons are doomed; the demon will not stop until it has killed them. To release a horde of potential Thralls onto the unwitting streets of Haven would be a disaster. "What should we do, <<c firstname>>?" Trouble asks you in an undertone. <<include "childrenchoice">>

Trouble nods, clearly approving of this plan. "Smart," he says, flexing his gloved hands. "We can wait until we find some Hunters to join, or a spellbook with an answer, or—or something." He glances at the kids. "And their families can come visit them under supervision." The Inquisitors look unhappy about this, but they don't fight back on your decision. "I hope not to see the Shepherds' compound in flames for this, Diminished," one of them says, looking very much like he does hope for this to happen. "If things go awry, it'll be on your head." You ignore him and turn back to the children, who smile tentatively at you. "Let's go home," you tell them as Trouble punches your shoulder approvingly. "All of us, now." You're greeted by some of the brightest smiles you've seen in a long, long time. <<include "endchapter">>

The children stir and gasp with hope: all of a sudden, their eyes light up with joy. The Inquisitors survey you with suspicion. "Mark me, Diminished," one of them warns. "Should this go awry, it will be on your head. And we will come to claim it." You ignore him and turn to the children as Trouble punches your shoulder approvingly. "Let's take you home," you tell them—and you're greeted with the brightest, biggest smiles you've seen in a long, long time. <<include "endchapter">>

Trouble flushes with anger as you address the Inquisitors. "<<c firstname>>," he says through grit teeth. "<i>My</i> group was given over to the Inquisitors after we got away from the Equalists. And they didn't do jack shit!" "Rest assured," the pale-haired man drawls sarcastically, "we will conduct rigorous testing, using the best of the Autarch's resources. If the children are pure of demonic Rot, they will be released home." You arch a brow. "And if they aren't?" The Inquisitor spreads his hands. "They will be exterminated." Trouble gasps, even though the children remain silent and white-faced. "No," Trouble says. "<i>Fuck</i> no. You know their tests are shit, <<c firstname>>—they'll chuck these kids into some stupid device and condemn them to death, anyway!" "They didn't do that to you," you point out. He flushes even further. "<i>I</i> wasn't suspected of being a Thrall!" You turn to the Inquisitors. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Take them."' 'taketheminquisitors'>><<set $troublehate to true>><<set $childreninquisitors to true>><<set $trouble to 0>><<set $numberofhated += 1>><<setorder +15>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"On second thought..."' 'childrenchoice'>><</link>></li> </ul>

<<nobr>><<achieve "achieve_exterminator">><<notify_achievement "Exterminator" "Exterminated the children from the Equalist compound to avoid a demon infestation.">><</nobr>>You don't have time to react before Trouble's fist swings and clocks one of the Inquisitors in the face. "<i>Run</i>!" he yells to the children—but they're all so stunned that they don't seem to know he's talking to them. You stand and watch as the two Inquisitors wrestle him to the ground, pinning his arms behind his back and shoving his face into the dirt. One of the children begins to cry. Trouble puts up a good fight, but eventually more Inquisitors come, and they round the children up and begin to cart them away. You tell yourself you're doing the right thing, that the children will be treated well and that the Autarch has tools that the Shepherds lack—that you're doing what's best for the city. But it is very hard to believe that when the children stare at you like ghosts, ferried away to some unknown fate. And when Trouble finally stands up from the mud, released by six heavy Inquisitors, the look he gives you is so full of betrayal and hatred, it feels like he scalded you with acid. "Fuck you, <<c firstname>>," the gunslinger says. He spits at your feet and storms away. You shut your eyes. You know you did the right thing… but you also know that Trouble Alder will never forgive you. <<include "endchapter">>

You follow close on Tallys's heels as the Elf silently exits the Shepherds' compound and makes her way into the streets of Ashtown. By now, evening has fallen; lamplighters move down the street, laboriously lighting Ashtown's few streetlights with wicks on long poles. The noise of the day's crowds has receded. Now most of Witchtown's Diminished are inside, enjoying dinners with their families or commiserating over drinks with their fellow workers. Tallys strides down the avenue, oblivious to it all. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Tallys, wait."' 'tallyswait'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Where are you going?"' 'tallyswhereareyougoing'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Slow down. I\'m on your side."' 'slowdownimonyourside'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You were wrong back there, to dismiss him that way."' 'youwerewrongbackthere'>><<settallys -10>><</link>></li> </ul>

She glances back and notices you following for the first time, pursing her lips. "I need to get out of the city," she explains tersely. "I need—to clear my head. It's too loud here. I need to think." "Think about what?" you ask her. Tallys gestures vaguely behind her. "About what just happened. How he called me… callous." "Do you think you're callous?" Tallys stares at you. "I think I'm practical," she says. "You have to be, in this world. Don't you?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Yes, I think so."' 'yesithinksotallys'>><<settallys +3>><<setcompassionate -5>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"No, not necessarily."' 'nonotnecessarilytallys'>><<settallys +1>><<setcompassionate +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I don\'t know."' 'idontknowtallys'>><</link>></li> </ul>

"It's the only way to survive," you say. "You can't afford <i>not</i> to be practical." Tallys looks away. "I thought so, too," is all she says. <<include "tallysfollowfind">>

"You never <i>have</i> to be anything," you say. "You still have the choice to have a heart, no matter what." Tallys looks away, but says nothing. <<include "tallysfollowfind">>

Tallys goes quiet. "Neither do I." <<include "tallysfollowfind">>

"Out," Tallys answers tersely. "Out where?" "Out of the city." She purses her lips. "I need—to clear my head. It's too loud here. I need to think." "Think about what?" you ask her. Tallys gestures vaguely behind her. "About what just happened. How he called me… callous." "Do you think you're callous?" Tallys stares at you. "I think I'm practical," she says. "You have to be, in this world. I'm just looking out for the Shepherds—putting our interests first. Doesn't someone have to?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Don\'t you think that\'s Blade\'s job?"' 'dontyouthinkthatsblades'>><<settallys -3>><<setblade +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Don\'t you think the Shepherds should put the interests of civilians first?"' 'dontyouthinktheshepherds'>><<setcompassionate +5>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I understand. You\'re doing the tough part."' 'iunderstandyouredoingthetough'>><<settallys +3>><</link>></li> </ul>

Tallys stares at you. "But he isn't here," she says. "And he appointed Trouble leader in his place," you answer pointedly. Tallys looks away. "And maybe that was a mistake." <<include "tallysfollowfind">>

Tallys stares at you. "Not if it leads to our very destructon," she answers. You stare right back. "Then what did the Autarchy give us power for?" She looks away. "Perhaps to destroy ourselves," she says. <<include "tallysfollowfind">>

Tallys smiles briefly. "I'm thankful someone understands," she says. "I only wish Trouble did, as well." <<include "tallysfollowfind">>

Tallys glances back at you. "Can't," she says simply. "I need to get out of the city, clear my head—I can't think." Then she seems to realize what you just said. "Wait, did you just say you're on my side?" You nod. "Of course. You were just being practical, logical. We can't afford to operate solely on emotion and gut instinct." "But maybe he's right," the Elf murmurs, shaking her head. "Maybe I have become—callous. Those Norm children do need help. But for some reason, whenever I hear about something like that, I just think, 'Diminished children need more help. I need to focus on that.'" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I understand."' 'iunderstandtallys'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"The Shepherds aren\'t supposed to be prejudiced."' 'theshepherdsarentsupposedtobe'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Tallys looks surprised. "You do?" You nod. "Of course. We all have our priorities. And being Diminished yourself, you're more sympathetic to the plight of the Diminished." Tallys shakes her head. "But maybe that means I'm not fit to be in command." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Maybe you\'re right."' 'maybeyourerighttallys'>><<settallys -3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You\'re just looking out for the underdog."' 'yourejustlookingoutfortheunderdog'>><<settallys +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Maybe <i>I</i> should be third-in-command."' 'maybeishouldbethird'>><<setcunning +3>><<setcompassionate -5>><<settallys -10>><</link>></li> </ul>

"Maybe the job requires more objectivity," you say. Tallys just looks away. "Maybe." <<include "tallysfollowfind">>

Tallys's look brightens a little. "Yes," she says. "Someone has to." <<include "tallysfollowfind">>

Tallys's head swivels around so she can give you a stony stare. "I did not realize you harbored such ambitions." You shrug. "It's just a suggestion. I could relieve you of duty if you find it too burdensome." Tallys's features turn cold. "I thank you for your selflessness," she says, her voice chilly with sarcasm. <<include "tallysfollowfind">>

"We're supposed to protect all people," you remind her. "It's why Trouble and Shery are a part of the Order, too. We're all here to protect the innocent. It's just a matter of if the crime falls under our jurisdiction or not." She glances at you. "And you're not so sure it is?" You shrug. "I can't <i>know</i> for sure. I just agree that it warrants more investigating before we jump to any conclusions." <<include "tallysfollowfind">>

Tallys glances back at you, her mouth tight. "You followed me out here just to tell me that?" Her eyes harden. "I'm going out of the city, you know. To clear my head. Are you going to tail me there too?" You stand your ground. "You shouldn't have spoken to Trouble like that." Tallys scowls: a rare expression for her normally-serene face. "…You really think so?" You nod. "It's clearly a deeply personal issue for him." "But that's exactly <i>why</i> I dismissed him," the Elf answers, exasperated. "It's <i>too</i> personal. He's allowing his hatred to cloud his view." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Are you sure you\'re not allowing hatred to cloud <i>yours</i>?"' 'areyousureyourenotallowinghatred'>><<settallys -10>><<set $tallysharden += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I agree that we need to be objective, but you could have softened your approach."' 'iagreethatweneedtobeobjective'>><<setcharisma +3>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Tallys's head swivels around to give you a sharp stare. "What do you mean by that?" You don't back down from her look. "You know exactly what I mean." Tallys sucks in a breath and looks away; you notice that her face has gone quite pale. <<include "tallysfollowfind">>

"You were never going to persuade him by telling him he was wrong so blatantly," you tell her reasonably. "Even if you're right—though we have no evidence either way—you went about it the wrong way in telling him." Tallys frowns and looks away. "Perhaps you're right." <<include "tallysfollowfind">>

The two of you walk on in silence for a while. Tallys is deep in thought, and you're wondering what you're going to do next. Is it always like this whenever Blade leaves the Order? Are the Shepherds actually just as fractured as the rest of the city? And how do they deal with conflict within their own ranks? Around you, Ashtown ebbs and flows in a backdrop of faint chatter, soft lights, vague shapes and evening shadows moving around you. It begins to drizzle lightly, a cool mist descending from nowhere; you hunch your shoulders against the sudden cold, but Tallys fails to notice. Soon enough you and Tallys reach one of Haven's side gates, set into the crumbling white wall that demarcates the bottom tier of the city. There's a Vice Guard standing there, keeping watch as ever, but as you approach you see that she already seems preoccupied with someone else. "I don't understand," a man is saying. He's dressed in merchant's clothes, and his build and beard tell you that he's a Norm. His features are rat-like, and a jagged scar crisscrosses the bridge of his nose. "I have…business to conduct at the edge of the valley. You're telling me I can't leave?" "Orders of the Sun Court," the Vice Guard tells him, eyes forward. "A new curfew is in effect. No one goes in or out of the city after sundown." "But that's ridiculous!" the man sputters. The Vice Guard looks him in the eye, and now her own gaze is hard and steely. "This curfew comes from a Son of Heaven himself," she tells him. "Dare you question the word of the Autarch's son?" The merchant draws back in dismay. "No," he says faintly, barely audible over the patter of rain. "No, I would never—I would never dream of that." Head bowed, he beats a hasty retreat back up the road, cursing to himself under his breath. You and Tallys now approach, drawing out your sun medallions to show the guard at the gate. She barely looks at either of you. "New curfew," she says, looking off into the rain. "On account of all these kids going missing. No one is to go in or out of the city after sundown." Tallys's mouth twists. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"But we have Shepherd business outside the walls!"' 'butwehaveshepherdbusiness'>><<setloyal -5>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Understood. Thanks for telling us."' 'understoodthanksfortellingus'>><<setloyal -5>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Kids going missing?"' 'kidsgoingmissing'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

"It will have to wait," the Vice Guard says, completely unfazed. You have a feeling she's used to being battered by protests and complaints all day. You can't believe this; what if you had an actual urgent reason to leave the city—a demonic infestation or a message that needed to be delivered? "But—" Tallys jerks her head at you. "Let's go, <<c firstname>>," she says quietly. "It isn't worth the effort." You stare at her, but it's clear that she has no interest in clashing with the Vice Guard. So you just nod, and the two of you turn and walk back down the street, leaving Haven's wall to grin at you like a row of uneven teeth in the rain. <<include "tallysfollowfind2">>

Tallys opens her mouth for a moment, as if to protest, but when both you and the Vice Guard look at her, she closes her mouth again and merely shakes her head. The two of you turn and walk back down the street, leaving Haven's wall to grin at you like a row of uneven teeth in the rain. <<include "tallysfollowfind2">>

"That's what I said," the Guard says curtly. She eyes you with a gimlet eye. "Why, you know something about it?" You catch Tallys's eye, and she gives an imperceptible head shake. It never looks good when a Diminished person claims to know about any kind of trouble—especially not to the bigoted Vice Guard. So you just shake your head, and the two of you turn and walk back down the street, leaving Haven's wall to grin at you like a row of uneven teeth in the rain. <<include "tallysfollowfind2">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "tallysfollowfind3">><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<if settings.music is true>><<audio "calmtavern" volume 0 fadeoverto 30 0.1>><<timed 30s>><<audio "calmtavern" fadeoverto 120 0>><</timed>><</if>><</nobr>> Later, you and Tallys decide to take shelter from the bad weather by stamping into a local tavern called The Thirteenth Hour. Tallys says it's a good meeting place for Diminished—a place where the Shepherds are actually welcome. The two of you settle down at a corner table by the crackling hearth, draping your steaming cloaks over your chairs to dry in the warmth of the room. The tavern is full tonight, crammed with chattering Diminished who shared your idea of getting out of the steady downpour. You turn to Tallys as a hassled-looking barmaid sets down two warm mugs of honey <span class="entrylink"><span class="entrylink-tooltip">A popular Elven drink that replenishes the body and restores the mind.</span><<link "vytas" "Glossary">><</link>></span> and a dish of peya: a traditional Elven nut-stuffed bread wrapped in a fragrant steamed leaf. As the scents of the food and the noise of the crowd wash over you, you turn to Tallys and comment wryly: "This is rather the opposite of getting out of the city to clear your thoughts." "Yes, but I have no choice," Tallys answers, resigned. She takes a sip of her vytas and adds, "Sometimes being with other people can help, too." You don't miss that she shoots you a grateful glance from under her lashes. "Who is this Son of Heaven, anyway?" you ask her. "The one who instituted this curfew? I didn't know that the Autarch had any children." "Few do, outside of Haven," Tallys comments. "All of the attention is given to Her Radiance; the topic of the sons doesn't usually come up, because it makes everyone think about the future, and what will happen when the current Autarch… meets her demise. And to speak of that is blasphemous… so people don't. But the sons have their hand in ruling the Autarchy, all the same." She glances around surreptitiously and lowers her voice, though the chances of your conversation being overheard in this cacophony seem impossible. "Enik Goldenson is the firstborn, and takes very much after his mother. By all accounts he takes his role as a Son of Heaven very seriously: he's a religious fanatic, obsessed with serving the One-God, and quite literal about interpreting Xer word and teachings. He punishes non-believers and Diminished with extreme prejudice." She sits back. "He is also power-hungry, cunning, and eager to consolidate his authority in the Autarchy early. I'm willing to bet it was his curfew that stopped us just now; it's his hand in the execution of every rebel, every worshiper of the Old Faith. Under his direction, the Inquisitors have thrived, rooting out perceived crimes all over the Continent. Martial law sounds right up his alley." You whistle softly. "Sounds like a bad egg." Tallys snorts. "Wait until you hear about his brother." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "tallysfollowfind4">><</link>></center>

"Ornos Silverson is the second-born, and an animal. Whereas Enik is zealous and devout, following the doctrines of the One-God, Ornos obeys nothing but his own cravings, his own desires. He's openly flouted the edicts of the Church and the order of the Autarchy. Nothing governs him—or tampers his depravities." She glances around again and lowers her voice even further. "No one knows who Ornos' father is," she says very softly, so that you have to crane forward to hear her. "Braver souls call him Ornos the Bastard. Enik, the brother, was born from the Autarch's consort, Prince Sulepsis, who was killed by assassins some time ago. But Ornos was born much later, when the Autarch should have been barren. She claims that he is a gift from the One-God, born from a miraculous union between her and Xer light." "Do you believe that?" you ask her, though you already know the answer. Tallys shakes her head in disgust. "That man did not come from God," she practically spits. "I say he must have been whelped by a she-wolf, or some other, more craven beast. He takes whatever he wants, whenever he wants—be it person or object. I heard he cut a tailor's throat ear-to-ear for missing a frayed cuff-link on his shirt, and laughed when the widow found the body." "And the Autarch lets him run amok like that?" you ask, appalled. "She adores him," Tallys answers, her mouth twisting. "He can do no wrong in her eyes. And, as her health declines… her power to stop him dwindles, too." "Enik will take the throne, surely? When the Autarch… passes?" Tallys shudders. "It's not so clear. He is firstborn, and the legitimate heir, but Ornos is the Autarch's 'miracle.' We do not know yet who will ascend. We will likely never know until the Autarch… <i>moves on</i>." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I hope Enik becomes Autarch."' 'ihopeenikbecomes'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I hope Ornos becomes Autarch."' 'ihopeornosbecomes'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I hope the Autarch chooses someone else to be her successor."' 'ihopetheautarchchooses'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I hope the entire family dies."' 'ihopetheentirefamilydies'>><<setcompassionate -2>><</link>></li> </ul>

"He, at least, represents some kind of order," you comment. "He can be predicted and outmaneuvered. The alternative doesn't bear thinking about." <<include "tallysfollowfind5">>

"Maybe he'll be too busy pursuing his own pleasures to care about ruling the Continent," you say. "Things might become more lax, with him in charge." <<include "tallysfollowfind5">>

Tallys's eyesbrows raise. "That has never happened," she says bluntly. "Their bloodline is 'holy.' No one else can be the Autarch but a Golden One." "They made themselves out to be holy," you point out. "Anyone else can do the same." <<include "tallysfollowfind5">>

Tallys's eyes widen at your bold—no, suicidal—words. But you're confident that no one can hear you: someone on the other side of the bar shouts to buy everyone a round, and a cheer goes up in the shocked silence lying between you. <<include "tallysfollowfind5">>

Before Tallys can answer, someone tries to edge past your table and bumps into it with their hip, causing your glasses to wobble. As you steady the whole thing, you happen to glance up—and meet a pair of familiar ocher eyes as you do. Your blood thumps hard in your throat; you know those eyes. You've seen them somewhere before. The man staring down at you has short, blood-red hair under a wide-brimmed black hat, which he hasn't removed—despite the fact that it's dripping with rainwater. When he catches your glance and sees the recognition in your eyes, his own quirk with hidden amusement. He smirks, and that's when you remember who he is. Croelle: the man who first told you about the Shepherds, so long ago, and who accosted you to have a conversation about free will. The man who said he was being employed to watch the Shepherds. <i>You!</i> you want to blurt. But he's moved past your table and vanished into the crowd before you can say anything. Tallys, noticing your sudden surprise, raises her eyebrows. "Do you know him?" "Yes," you say, trying to see where Croelle went. Then you correct yourself. "Well, no, not really. We met once. Before I joined the Shepherds, when I first came to Haven. In another tavern." "He must haunt a lot of them, then," Tallys notes, pouring herself another drink—one with alcohol this time. She doesn't seem very concerned; the vytas has relaxed her slightly, made her forget about the earlier argument with Trouble. "What a coincidence to see him here, of all places." But is it a coincidence? You're not sure… <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Get up and go talk to Croelle.' 'getupandtalktocroelle'>><<setcroelle +10>><<settallys -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Stay and keep Tallys company.' 'stayandkeeptallyscompany'>><<settallys +3>><</link>></li> </ul>

You stand up. "I'm just going to go… catch up with him." Tallys turns back to her drink, though she looks a little disappointed. "By all means," she says, her eyes carefully downcast. <<include "croelle">>

You remain at the table and wrap your hand around your steaming mug to warm it. Tallys arches a brow. "His showing up here obviously perturbed you," she comments. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"He told me he was being paid to watch the Shepherds."' 'hetoldmehewasbeingpaid'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Say nothing. Now isn\'t the time to upset Tallys further. ' 'saynothingnowisntthetime'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Tallys shrugs. "Count him as one of many, then. The entire city is watching us, and our political enemies have spies everywhere. But we aren't doing anything wrong, so they can watch all they want." You nod and take another sip of your vytas. The idea of being <i>watched</i> makes you uneasy, but Tallys seems used to it. Maybe it's just what comes with being a Shepherd. <<include "cointest">>

You raise your mug and clink it against Tallys's. "It's nothing. Never mind." And you think to yourself that you're probably right. Croelle being here probably means nothing; it's not something worth bringing up now, anyway. <<include "cointest">>

You scoot back from the table and edge your way through the crowded and humid room to find Croelle. You find him waiting at the bar for a drink, lean as a rake in his black outfit, so tall that he stands nearly a head above everyone else in the room. A thin, vicious sword hangs at his side, and his skin is so death-pale that his eyes seem to burn in his face. The watcher turns to you but doesn't greet you: he seems unsurprised by the fact that you followed him. His eyes fall to your sun medallion, and he says lightly: "A Shepherd now." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Surprised?"' 'surprisedcroelle'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I seem to recall you said you\'re watching us?"' 'iseemtorecallyousaidyoure'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Croelle smiles slightly, though the look is cruel and doesn't reach his eyes. "Not exactly," he answers. "I figured it would happen. You seem the type to ignore even the most well-intentioned warning." <<include "croelle2">>

Croelle smirks slightly, though the look is cruel and doesn't reach his eyes. "Don't flatter yourself," he answers. "It's my time off at the moment. I'm not a voyeur. I'm not watching you for pleasure. I only do it as business, and right now, I'm not working." <<include "croelle2">>

You stiffen at the insult, but before you can answer, he turns back to receive his drink from one of the servers. Croelle lifts his pewter mug to you in a lazy, almost mocking toast and says, "Still believe in free will?" Your mouth twists at the familiar topic. Why is this man obsessed with talking philosophy with you? "What do you mean?" Croelle indicates your sun medallion. "I mean, did you join the Shepherds of your own free will?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"No. I was forced into it. To survive."' 'noiwasforcedintoit'>><<setloyal -5>><<setcroelle +5>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Yes. I joined them willingly. And I\'m glad I did."' 'yesijoinedthemwillingly'>><<setloyal +5>><<setcroelle +5>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Don\'t you get tired of interrogating me about this?"' 'dontyougettiredofinterrogating'>><<setcroelle -5>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Stay silent.' 'staysilentcroelle'>><<setcroelle -5>><</link>></li> </ul>

Croelle nods sagely, with something like a bitter smile. "That's life." <<include "croelle3">>

Croelle gazes at you, his burning eyes somewhat curious. "You and I are different creatures, I suppose." <<include "croelle3">>

Croelle lets loose a low laugh. "Clearly <i>you</i> don't get tired of it," he retorts. "Since you followed me here." <<include "croelle3">>

Croelle smirks to himself, as if he expected your reticence. <<include "croelle3">>

Then he cocks his head at you, interested. "And… are you happy now? With the Shepherds?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'You feel a flicker of irritation. "Why do you care about my happiness? We\'re strangers!"' 'whydoyoucareaboutmyhappinessangry'>><<set $croellestatus to "You're starting to wish you could wring his neck.">><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Why do you care about my happiness? We\'re strangers." You\'re genuinely curious.' 'whydoyoucareaboutmyhappinesscurious'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Yes. I am very happy. More than I expected."' 'yesiamveryhappymorethaniexpected'>><<setcroelle +5>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"No. But I\'m getting by."' 'nobutimgettingby'>><<setcroelle +3>><</link>></li> </ul>

"I don't even know you," you tell him, more than a little frustrated by his blasé attitude. "Why do you ask about me, my life and wellbeing—when I don't even know who you are?" Croelle shrugs, though his smile is tight now. "We all have choices to make," he says, still cryptic. "I like my choices to be well-informed." <<include "croelle4">>

"I'm a stranger to you," you tell him, without rancor. "Why is my happiness even a question for you?" Croelle's smile is bitter and hard. "We all have choices to make, Shepherd," he answers, still cryptic. "I like my choices to be well-informed." <<include "croelle4">>

You can't help but smile to yourself. Joining the Shepherds might be the best thing you ever did. You look up to find Croelle watching you. He seems thoughtful, almost resigned—as if your answer was not what he was hoping for. "Good for you," is all he says, though he clearly isn't happy for you. There might even be a tone of sarcasm or cruel irony to his tone... or pity? <<include "croelle4">>

Croelle turns his eyes forward to stare at the wall. "A kindred spirit, then," is all he says, sipping his drink. He looks pensive and grim. <<include "croelle4">>

Then his eyes flick away, to something across the room, and you sense that you only have time for one more question before he walks away. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Seriously, who are you?"' 'seriouslywhoareyou'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Do you mean us any ill will?"' 'doyoumeanusanyillwill'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Why don\'t you join our table?"' 'whydontyoujoinourtable'>><<setcroelle +5>><</link>></li> <<if $intelligence gte 20>><li><<link '"Are you another Mage, too?"' 'areyouanothermagetoo'>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link '"Why do you always wear that hat?"' 'whydoyoualwayswear'>><<setcroelle +2>><</link>></li> </ul>

Crolle stares at you: his gaze is scalding like a hot white searchlight. "I already told you," he tells you. Though he seems calm, his voice has taken on a clipped, dangerous quality. "My name is Croelle." "That's it?" you demand. "No last name, no other title?" He shakes his head. "That's all I've ever been known as." "By whom?" His grin turns fierce and animalistic. "By anyone foolish enough to ask," he answers. <<include "croelle5">>

Croelle stares at you, and a brittle, knowing smile spreads across his lips. You notice that his canine teeth are slightly sharper than normal, as if filed to slight points. "That remains to be seen," he says slowly. "I have no personal stake in harming you. But things don't often go the way we'd like, do they? You of all people should know that." <<include "croelle5">>

Croelle stares at you, as if taken aback. It seems this was the last question he expected you to ask. "No," he says, a bit rudely. You raise an eyebrow at him, but he offers no other explanation other than his refusal. <<include "croelle5">>

The way his ocher eyes burn certainly seems to be the <i>iladrin</i>. But Croelle only sneers at you and turns away. "Close enough," is all he says. <<include "croelle5">>

Croelle looks slightly surprised, as if this was the last question he expected you to ask. Then he rolls his eyes and says, "<i>That's</i> what you choose to ask? I expected a better show from you." <<include "croelle5">>

<<set $croellestatus to "His modus operandi seems to be rudeness, strangeness, and speaking in cryptic riddles.">>Then he lifts his tankard towards you in another salute and begins to shove himself off of the counter, to walk away. As he does it you see something shiny slip out of his dark coat: a necklace of some kind, not so different from your sun medallion. With it comes the headachy wash of magic, and something else, something <i>wrong</i>—like the smell of rotting carrion. Despite yourself, you flinch. Croelle notices the movement before casually slipping the necklace back under his clothes. "See you soon, <<c firstname>>," he says, a little ominously—then vanishes back into the crowd. You stand there for a moment, trying to remember if you ever even told him your name. Then you go back to Tallys… though you can't quash the strong feeling of being watched. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "croelle6">><</link>></center>

A little later in the night, you see a pair of men come into the bar. <<include "inquisitors">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cointest2">><</link>></center>

A little later in the night, when you and Tallys have gotten truly comfortable again, she says, seemingly out of nowhere: "Do you ever wonder if people like us can be happy?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"People like us?"' 'peoplelikeus'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Aren\'t you happy now?"' 'arentyouhappynow'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Yes, I do wonder."' 'yesidowonder'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I am happy." ' 'iamhappy'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Tallys nods gravely: her green eyes shimmer with a heavy kind of sadness. "Diminished, of course," she clarifies. "Do you think we can be truly happy in this world? Free of pain and fear—or is such an existence impossible, as long as the Autarchy exists?" "This is because of what happened with Trouble?" Tallys looks away, then slowly nods. "If we lived in a world without the Autarchy," she begins again, "maybe we could have gone to investigate the case ourselves. Maybe I wouldn't have been afraid that the Inquisitors would show up in the middle of it and blame us for what was happening to their Norm children. Maybe I wouldn't shy away from such things, terrified we'll be used as scapegoats for anything that isn't clearly the work of demons." She looks away. "Maybe there wouldn't be a curfew preventing us from leaving the city. Maybe a concept like the Equalists wouldn't even exist." <<include "cointest3">>

Tallys's mouth twists. "How can I be?" she asks. "How can I live in this world without always looking over my shoulder? Live free of pain and fear? Isn't such a thing impossible, as long as the Autarchy exists?" "This is because of what happened with Trouble?" Tallys looks away, then slowly nods. "If we lived in a world without the Autarchy," she begins again, "maybe we could have gone to investigate the case ourselves. Maybe I wouldn't have been afraid that the Inquisitors would show up in the middle of it and blame us for what was happening to their Norm children. Maybe I wouldn't shy away from such things, terrified we'll be used as scapegoats for anything that isn't clearly the work of demons." She looks away. "Maybe there wouldn't be a curfew preventing us from leaving the city. Maybe a concept like the Equalists wouldn't even exist." <<include "cointest3">>

Tallys nods. "How could you not?" she asks. "How can we live truly happy in this world? How can we exist without pain and fear? Isn't such a thing impossible, as long as the Autarchy exists?" "This is because of what happened with Trouble?" Tallys nods. "If we lived in a world without the Autarchy," she begins, "maybe we could have gone to investigate the case ourselves. Maybe I wouldn't have been afraid that the Inquisitors would show up in the middle of it and blame us for what was happening to their Norm children. Maybe I wouldn't shy away from such things, terrified we'll be used as scapegoats for anything that isn't clearly the work of demons." She looks away. "Maybe there wouldn't be a curfew preventing us from leaving the city. Maybe a concept like the Equalists wouldn't even exist." <<include "cointest3">>

Tallys looks at you, startled. "How could you be?" she asks. "How can you be truly happy in this world—how can you live without pain and fear hanging over you like a guillotine? Isn't such a thing impossible, as long as the Autarchy exists?" "This is because of what happened with Trouble?" Tallys nods. "If we lived in a world without the Autarchy," she begins, "maybe we could have gone to investigate the case ourselves. Maybe I wouldn't have been afraid that the Inquisitors would show up in the middle of it and blame us for what was happening to their Norm children. Maybe I wouldn't shy away from such things, terrified we'll be used as scapegoats for anything that isn't clearly the work of demons." She looks away. "Maybe there wouldn't be a curfew preventing us from leaving the city. Maybe a concept like the Equalists wouldn't even exist." <<include "cointest3">>

Tallys frowns when you tell her the details of your peaceful, happy childhood. "Truly?" Doubt and skepticism clearly shade her green eyes. "But... your case must be an exceptional one, surely? I cannot believe every Diminished orphan who gets taken in by an all-Norm community would be granted the same favorable treatment as you were." "Maybe I got lucky," you acknowledge, "but isn't the very fact that there <i>are</i> Diminished orphans being taken in by Norms a sign that they're not all so evil and oppressive?" <<include "cointest4">>

Tallys arches a brow. "And what 'solid facts' am I missing?" "Well, you have food and shelter, for one," you comment slowly. "Which is more than I had for a long time. And friends. Blade, Shery… even Trouble, once this argument's blown over. People who support you. Care about you." Tallys is looking at you. "Can all of that stand against the tide of the Autarch's power?" she asks. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"And you have me."' 'cointest4'>><<set $tallysromanceflag += 1>><<settallys +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Yes. It\'s the only thing that can, actually."' 'cointest4'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Tallys's eyes widen at your rebellious words. "What are you saying?" "I'm only agreeing with you," you tell her, leaning forward. "For the Diminished to be happy, the Autarchy can't exist." <<include "cointest4">>

You quote the words to her in Elvish. "Only unhappiness will come to she who struggles against the snows rather than following the tracks laid clearly before her." A smile flickers across Tallys's lips, and her eyes shine at the words spoken in her native tongue. "You dare to school me in the old sayings?" she asks, almost playfully. "<i>Me</i>, Keeper of the Elvish histories!" But she seems delighted to hear you reference an old adage of her—no, your—people. You smile back at her. "We'll never know if we would have been happier without the Autarchy around. Maybe something worse would be in its place: maybe the wars would have destroyed us all, and we would have never been born. I don't claim to know. All I know is that the wisdoms of the past tell us to make do with what we have in the present." "You are quite wise for one so young," Tallys comments, sounding chagrined. You snort. "I've had enough experience to fill up a dozen lifetimes." <<include "cointest4">>

Tallys smiles at that, a little sadly. Then she seems to shake herself out of her moroseness and shakes her head, discreetly dabbing at the corner of one eye. When she looks up at you, her face shines with a new expression: one of determination, as if she's told herself to stop wallowing in self-pity. "Would you like to play a game?" she asks suddenly. Without waiting for an answer, she draws a little cloth pouch from the inside of her cloak: it's full of tiny ivory tiles that clatter inside. "How about Elements?" <<include "game">>

<<nobr>><<set $turn to 0, $play to 0, $bet to false, $hairdisplay to "">><</nobr>>You smile. "You just carry that around with you?" She shrugs. "You never know when you might need to distract yourself with a bit of fun." You lean forward and allow her to pour the tiles onto the table between you. There are nearly a hundred, and each is the size of your thumbnail, bearing the small painted symbol of a tree, raindrop, or flame. "My own special set," Tallys murmurs, hands moving deftly to flip each tile so that it's face-down. "Painted by an Elven artisan who's made them for centuries. Do you remember how to play?" You nod. "We each flip one tile at the same time," you say, "and see whose tile beats the other. Water douses fire, fire destroys wood, and wood grows from water. Pretty straightforward." Her eyes glint, a little mischievously. "Let's make it a little more interesting, then…" Her smile suddenly turns sly and foxlike. "Winner gets to ask the loser a question—any question—and the loser… has to answer." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"That sounds fun. I\'m in."' 'thatsoundsfunimin'>><<settallys +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Are you serious? Isn\'t that a little... childish?"' 'areyouseriousisnthatalittle'>><<settallys -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Care to wager coin on it?"' 'caretowageronit'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Tallys smiles wider. "Excellent. And I hope you won't take offense if I ask a question you might not want to answer." You spread your hands. "How could I be? That's the whole point of the game." <<include "game2">>

Tallys's expression doesn't change much, but you can sense her urge to roll her eyes. "Most games are, <<c firstname>>. Are you going to try it or not?" You relent with a sigh. "Fine, fine. Let's try it." <<include "game2">>

<<set $bet to true>>Tallys lifts her eyebrows. "We're betting information," she says delicately. "Knowledge. That's far more valuable than money." But when you continue to stare at her, she sighs. "Fine," she acquiesces. "Five lyss for every win. Sound good?" You nod. "Sounds good." <<include "game2">>

She gestures with her hands. "Let's begin, then. One… two…" <<include "flip">>

<<if $turn gte 5>> <<goto "endgame">> <</if>> <br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Flip a Tile!</span></div></div>' "flip2">><<set $turn += 1>><</link>></center>

<<set $play to random(1,4)>> <<if $play is 1>> <<if $bet is true>> <<set $gold += 1>> <<notify_gold "+1 Gold">> <</if>> You flip water, and Tallys flips fire. You win! <br> <<include "asktallys">> <<elseif $play is 2>> <<if $bet is true>> <<set $gold -= 1>> <<notify_gold "-1 Gold">> <</if>> You flip wood, and Tallys flips fire. She wins! <br> <<include "tallysasksyou">> <<elseif $play is 3>> <<if $bet is true>> <<set $gold += 1>> <<notify_gold "+1 Gold">> <</if>> You flip fire, and Tallys flips wood. You win! <br> <<include "asktallys">> <<else>> <<if $bet is true>> <<set $gold -= 1>> <<notify_gold "-1 Gold">> <</if>> You flip water, and Tallys flips wood. She wins! <br> <<include "tallysasksyou">> <</if>>

<br> <<if $turn is 1>> Tallys smiles ruefully. "Congratulations for winning on the very first try. What do you want to ask me?" <<elseif $turn is 2>> Tallys sighs through her nose. "You win. What's your question?" <<elseif $turn is 3>> Tallys purses her lips in displeasure. "What do you want to know?" <<elseif $turn is 4>> Tallys drops her head down to the table: it seems the drink is starting to have a little effect on her, because she slurs a bit when she says: "What's the question?" <<else>> Tallys groans; her position on the seat of her chair seems a little wobbly, and her head bobs and weaves in the air as if struggling to stay aloft. "Ask your question." <</if>> <ul class="choices"> <<if $compassionate lt 50>><<if not hasVisited("sofuckmarryorkill")>><li><<link '"So... Fuck, marry, or kill... Trouble, Blade, and Shery?"' 'sofuckmarryorkill'>><</link>></li><</if>> <<else>><<if not hasVisited("sotroublebladeandshery")>><li><<link '"So... Trouble, Blade, and Shery. Which one would you marry, which one would you kill, and which one would you make love to?"' 'sotroublebladeandshery'>><</link>></li><</if>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("whowasthefirstpersonyoukilled")>><li><<link '"Who was the first person you ever killed?"' 'whowasthefirstpersonyoukilled'>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("whowasthefirstpersonyoukissed")>><li><<link '"Who was the first person you ever kissed?"' 'whowasthefirstpersonyoukissed'>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("onascale")>><li><<link '"On a scale of one to ten, how attractive do you think I am?"' 'onascale'>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("whatsyourfavoritething")>><li><<link '"What\'s your favorite thing to do on your day off?"' 'whatsyourfavoritething'>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("whatsyourgreatestfear")>><li><<link '"What\'s your greatest fear?"' 'whatsyourgreatestfear'>><</link>></li><</if>> </ul>

Tallys snorts. "Really?" "You're the one who started this!" She rolls her eyes. "Very well, then. I would marry Shery, sleep with Blade, and…" She pauses for a moment, then looks down at her cup and swirls the drink around in it. "…kill Trouble." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"And what if I were in the mix?"' 'andwhatifiwereinthemix'>><<set $tallysromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Are you just saying that because you\'re mad at him right now?"' 'areyoujustsayingthatbecause'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Keep playing the game.' 'keepplayingthegame'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Tallys winks at you. "Now, now, <<c firstname>>. You only get to ask one question, not two." She tosses back the rest of her drink and signals a barmaid for more. "Let's flip again." <<include "flip">>

Tallys purses her lips, but says nothing as she takes a deep draught of her drink. "…Let's keep playing, shall we?" The two of you ready yourselves to flip another tile. "One… two…" <<include "flip">>

The two of you ready yourselves to flip another tile. "One… two…" <<include "flip">>

Tallys smiles slightly and leans back in her chair, folding her hands on her stomach as if she's in very deep thought. Finally she says decisively: "I'd marry Shery, make love to the Commander, and kill Trouble." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Marry Shery? Why?"' 'marryshellywhy'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Make love to Blade? Why?"' 'makelovetobladewhy'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Kill Trouble? Why?"' 'killtroublewhy'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"And what if I were in the mix?"' 'andwhatifiwereinthemix2'>><<set $tallysromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> </ul>

"She'd make a very lovely wife," Tallys answers calmly, shrugging. She states it without real interest—more like it's just a fact. "She's sweet, loving, and loyal: who wouldn't want to marry her?" Then she glances back at the tiles. "Shall we keep playing?" "Sure." You lean forward. "One… two…" <<include "flip">>

Tallys raises her eyebrows. "He's an attractive man by any standard," she says blandly, as if she were discussing the weather. "And I can't imagine that he'd be a selfish lover." She shrugs and looks at the tiles. "Shall we keep playing?" You lean forward. "One… two…" <<include "flip">>

Tallys spears you with an unimpressed look. "Did you hear what he was saying to me, not one hour ago?" "Yes, but…" She raises her hand. "I wouldn't, of course, actually kill Trouble. We're friends. But he can be an idiot at times. He's like an annoying brother. I certainly wouldn't marry or—well." She shrugs and looks at the tiles. "Shall we keep playing?" You lean forward. "One… two…" <<include "flip">>

A mischievous smile steals across Tallys's lips. "You only get one question," she says, but her voice is just a shade lower than usual. "Not two. But maybe you can ask me that some other time." She shrugs and looks at the tiles. "Shall we keep playing?" You lean forward. "One… two…" <<include "flip">>

Tallys's expression doesn't change, but you think that she looks just a bit paler than usual. "You would ask that kind of question during a game?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"You\'re right. Let me ask something else."' 'yourerightletmeask'>><<setcharisma +3>><<settallys +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You said I could ask any question."' 'yousaidicouldaskanyquestion'>><<setcourage +3>><<setcharisma -3>><</link>></li> </ul>

"What's your favorite animal?" you ask. Tallys looks thoughtful. "I appreciate all animals," she says after a moment. "More than people, sometimes. Their lives are so… pure, so uncomplicated. They lack delusions about… well, really anything." She mulls it over for a moment. "I suppose, if I had to choose… I've always admired swans." For some reason, you wouldn't have guessed that: you would have expected her to pick something like a deer or an ahfuri. "Swans?" Tallys nods decisively. "They are the picture of nature's grace and beauty," she says. "And I have always loved watching birds in flight. They're so free. And…" She trails off for a moment, then smiles a little and shrugs indulgently. "And they only mate once. For life. They die loving the same partner, until the end of their days. There's something very beautiful in that." She catches your look and blinks. "Let's roll again." <<include "flip">>

Tallys snorts, but she looks less amused and more baffled. Then she shrugs and says: "…It was a man from another tribe. An Elf. I'd coupled with someone I'd assumed to be unattached… but she turned out to be his wife." <<nobr>><<if $heritage is "Elf">> <br> You raise your eyebrows. "And you killed him? In self-defense?" <br><br> Among the Elves, you know, it's almost sacrilegious to kill one of your own: extinguishing a life that might have lived for hundreds or even thousands of years is taken much more seriously than in other cultures. <br><br> Tallys frowns. "I didn't mean to. He confronted me on a cliff edge—wrestled with me and tried to push me over. He fell… on accident." She looks away. "It almost sparked a war between our two clans. Even up until ours was destroyed, relations between us were… frosty." <br><br> She presses her lips shut and doesn't seem to want to speak about it any further. <br><br> You clear your throat. "All right, then. Let's roll again." <br> <<include "flip">> <<else>> <br> "So you challenged him to a duel?" you ask, raising your eyebrows. <br><br> Tallys shakes her head vigorously. "Elves don't duel each other," she says. "Killing our kin is taken much more seriously in our culture than it is in others. Your opponent could have lived hundreds or even thousands of years. Extinguishing a life like that—with all of its memories, experiences, history—is considered… sacrilegious." <br><br> "But you killed him," you prompt. <br><br> Tallys grimaces. "It was an accident," she states. "He confronted me on a cliff edge—wrestled with me and tried to push me over. He fell instead… on accident." She looks away. "It almost sparked a war between our two clans. Even up until ours was destroyed, relations between us were… frosty." <br><br> She presses her lips shut and doesn't seem to want to speak about it any further. <br><br> You clear your throat. "All right, then. Let's roll again." <br> <<include "flip">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Tallys smiles. "Avelin," she murmurs with a faraway look in her eyes. "Xe was a Mage, of all people. Xe lived in a hut in a forest we would travel through every summer to reach our ancestral home. We snuck away and—I felt like xe wanted me to kiss xer. And so I did." "How old were you?" you ask. Tallys smiles in a brittle way. "It would be twelve in non-Elvish years." Then she nods her head at the tiles. "Shall we go again?" You nod. "One, two…" <<include "flip">>

<<if ($tallysromanceflag gte 2) and ($heritage is not "Elf")>> Tallys actually throws her head back and laughs out loud. "Ten," she says, without embarrassment and with a merry glint in her eye. "Whether or not that changes remains to be seen." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Blush and look away.' 'blushandlookaway'>><<setcourage -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Meet her gaze head-on. "Nice to know."' 'meethergazeheadon'>><<settallys +1>><<setcourage +1>><<set $tallysromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Ewww..."' 'ewwonascale'>><<settallys -1>><</link>></li> </ul> <<elseif ($tallysromanceflag gte 2) and ($heritage is "Elf")>> Tallys actually throws her head back and laughs out loud. "Ask me in Elvish, and then I'll answer," she says with a merry glint in her eyes. <br><br> You comply, and the glint grows into a spark of something more. "Eleven," Tallys says, her voice a bit husky—then she clears her throat and leans forward again. "…Shall we play again?" <br><br> You nod, trying not to smile at the idea that Tallys finds you exceedingly attractive. "Sure. One… two…" <br> <<include "flip">> <<else>> Tallys smiles, tilting her head coyly. "A seven," she answers simply, unembarrassed, "but whether that number raises or lowers remains to be seen." Then she leans forward again and looks at the tiles. "Let's flip again. One… two…" <br> <<include "flip">> <</if>>

Tallys snorts at your embarrassment. "Let's flip again," she says, sitting languidly forward. "One, two…" <<include "flip">>

Tallys smiles slightly. "I'm glad," she says—then sits forward languidly. "Shall we flip again? One, two…" <<include "flip">>

Tallys rolls her eyes and snorts. "Let's flip again," she says, sitting forward eagerly. "One, two…" <<include "flip">>

Tallys snorts, opens her mouth to answer, then seems to think better of it. "Garden," she says carefully. "And take long walks in the valley." You cock an eyebrow at her. "What were you actually going to say?" Tallys shakes her head. "That's my answer. Let's flip again. One… two…" <<include "flip">>

Tallys rubs her arms suddenly and shudders. "Being trapped underground," she breathes. "For an Elf, being cut off from sunlight, from the free air… it's horrifying. I'm badly claustrophobic." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Shouldn\'t have revealed your weaknesses to me so easily. I\'m going to commit great evil with this knowledge."' 'shouldnthaverevealedyourweaknesses'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Hey, that\'s my greatest fear too!"' 'heythatsmygreatestfeartoo'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Don\'t worry, I\'ll keep you safe."' 'dontworryillkeepyoussafe'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Hm, interesting." Time to flip again.' 'flip'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Tallys rolls her eyes. "I trust you," she answers simply. "I wouldn't play this game with you if I didn't." Then she cocks her head. "Time to flip again?" <<include "flip">>

Tallys smiles slightly. "We're quite alike, you and I," she acknowledges, inclining her head. "Let's pray we never get sent on a mission to a cave together…" You laugh. "We'll just refuse to go. Send someone else!" Tallys laughs too. "Send the Commander," she comments. "His eyes can actually see in the dark." Then she cocks her head. "Time to flip again?" <<include "flip">>

Tallys rolls her eyes, but her lips are smiling. "You'll protect me from being trapped underground?" she asks sardonically. "That's so kind of you. No, I'll protect myself by never venturing into a dark and airless tunnel, thank you." Then she cocks her head. "Time to flip again?" <<include "flip">>

<<if $turn is 1>> <<include "q1">> <<elseif $turn is 2>> <<include "q2">> <<elseif $turn is 3>> <<include "q3">> <<elseif $turn is 4>> <<include "q4">> <<elseif $turn is 5>> <<include "q5">> <</if>>

"Ha!" Tallys exclaims, sitting back triumphantly in her chair. You throw your hands in the air. "All right," you concede. "You win the first round." Tallys smirks. "That I did, <<c firstname>>," she says, eyes sparkling. She's definitely seemed to have forgotten the argument with Trouble—at least for the moment. She puts her fingers on her chin. "Now to ask you a question…" She looks at you slyly. "What… is your favorite color?" You snort. "Really? You could ask me anything, and you ask that?" Tallys shrugs. "I'm starting slow. Since I'll be winning every round after this one, anyway." Well, then. This is a simple enough question. You tell her your favorite color is… <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Red."' 'favoritered'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Orange."' 'favoriteorange'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Yellow."' 'favoriteyellow'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Green."' 'favoritegreen'>><<set $tallys +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Blue."' 'favoriteblue'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Red."' 'favoritered'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Purple."' 'favoritepurple'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Pink."' 'favoritepink'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"White."' 'favoritewhite'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Gray."' 'favoritegray'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Brown."' 'favoritebrown'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Black."' 'favoriteblack'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Something more specific.' 'favoritespecific'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Well, to be honest, you don\'t have a favorite color...' 'weirdquestioncolor'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Tallys looks thoughtful. "A passionate color," is all she says. "I'll file that away for later." Then she cocks her head. "Shall we roll again?" You nod. "One… two…" <<include "flip">>

Tallys looks thoughtful. "A bold color," is all she says. "I'll file that away for later." Then she cocks her head. "Shall we roll again?" You nod. "One… two…" <<include "flip">>

Tallys looks thoughtful. "A striking color," is all she says. "I'll file that away for later." Then she cocks her head. "Shall we roll again?" You nod. "One… two…" <<include "flip">>

Tallys perks up. "That's my favorite color, as well," she tells you. "I'll have to file that away for later." Then she cocks her head. "Shall we roll again?" You nod. "One… two…" <<include "flip">>

Tallys looks thoughtful. "A soothing color," is all she says. "I'll file that away for later." Then she cocks her head. "Shall we roll again?" You nod. "One… two…" <<include "flip">>

Tallys looks thoughtful. "A proud color," is all she says. "I'll file that away for later." Then she cocks her head. "Shall we roll again?" You nod. "One… two…" <<include "flip">>

Tallys looks thoughtful. "A sweet color," is all she says. "I'll file that away for later." Then she cocks her head. "Shall we roll again?" You nod. "One… two…" <<include "flip">>

Tallys looks thoughtful. "A pure color," is all she says. "I'll file that away for later." Then she cocks her head. "Shall we roll again?" You nod. "One… two…" <<include "flip">>

Tallys looks thoughtful. "A nuanced color," is all she says. "I'll file that away for later." Then she cocks her head. "Shall we roll again?" You nod. "One… two…" <<include "flip">>

Tallys looks thoughtful. "A simple but strong color," is all she says. "I'll file that away for later." Then she cocks her head. "Shall we roll again?" You nod. "One… two…" <<include "flip">>

Tallys looks thoughtful. "A dark color," is all she says. "I'll file that away for later." Then she cocks her head. "Shall we roll again?" You nod. "One… two…" <<include "flip">>

Your favorite color is... <<textbox "$color" "">> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "customfavoritecolortallys">><</link>></center>

Tallys looks thoughtful. "<<c color>>," she echoes. "I'll file that away for later." Then she cocks her head. "Shall we roll again?" You nod. "One… two…" <<include "flip">>

Tallys rolls her eyes. "I suppose that's an answer," she allows reluctantly. "Shall we flip again?" You nod. "One… two…" <<include "flip">>

"I won!" Tallys exclaims. She takes a victorious sip of her drink. "All right, then… what's the most embarrassing way you've ever been injured?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"This happened just last week, actually. I was chasing after an Imp and I slipped on some old fruit peels..."' 'slippedonfruitpeels'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I once sneezed so hard I threw out my neck for a week."' 'sneezedsohard'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"While training, I dropped a weapon on my foot and crushed my toes."' 'droppedaweapononfoot'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"When I was little, our village put on a talent show, of sorts. During my performance, I slipped across the stage, fell on my back, slid, barreled into the band, broke the lead\'s instrument, and brought the entire show to a grinding halt."' 'talentshowslipped'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Nothing comes to mind, honestly."' 'nothingcomestomindhonestly'>><<settallys -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'d rather not answer that."' 'idrathernotanswerthat'>><<settallys -2>><</link>></li> </ul>

Tallys bursts out laughing. "Did anybody see?" Your face burns. "Only the fruit merchant… and his huge line of customers…" It takes a long time for Tallys to stop laughing. <<include "flip">>

Tallys bursts out laughing. "I've always heard Mage's sneezes are dangerous." Your face burns. "That's only when you're a kid. This happened when I was an adult…" It takes a long time for Tallys to stop laughing. <<include "flip">>

Tallys bursts out laughing. "What weapon was it?" <br><br> Your face burns. <<if $mainweapon is "sword">> "…My sword," you answer reluctantly. <br><br> Tallys's jaw drops open. "Hilt or point?" <br><br> "Hilt, thankfully." <br><br> It takes a long time for her to stop laughing. <br> <<include "flip">> <<elseif $mainweapon is "gun">> "…My gun," you answer reluctantly. <br><br> Tallys's jaw drops open. "Did it go off?" <br><br> "No, thankfully." <br><br> It takes a long time for her to stop laughing. <br> <<include "flip">> <<elseif $mainweapon is "bow">> "…One of my arrows," you answer reluctantly. <br><br> Tallys's jaw drops open. "Fletching or point?" <br><br> "Fletching, thankfully." <br><br> It takes a long time for her to stop laughing. <br> <<include "flip">> <<elseif $mainweapon is "dagger">> "…My dagger," you answer reluctantly. <br><br> Tallys's jaw drops open. "Hilt or point?" <br><br> "Hilt, thankfully." <br><br> It takes a long time for her to stop laughing. <br> <<include "flip">> <</if>>

Tallys bursts out laughing. "That can't be a real story." "It is," you say with great dignity. "The stage was very slippery, and I was wearing socks." It takes a long time for her to stop laughing. <<include "flip">>

Tallys makes a face. "Really? Nothing at all?" You shrug. "I don't do many embarrassing things. Or injure myself." She rolls her eyes. "Fine, then. Let's flip again. One, two…" <<include "flip">>

Tallys rolls her eyes. "You're defeating the purpose of the game, <<c firstname>>," she says—but she leans forward as if to flip again. "One, two…" <<include "flip">>

Tallys regards you slyly. "You may not like this question, <<c firstname>>." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Give me your best shot."' 'asd'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Oh, boy. I don\'t like that tone..."' 'asd'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Groan.' 'asd'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Tallys smirks. "With a choice of Commander Blade, Trouble, and Shery: who would you sleep with, who would you marry, and who would you kill?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"And I <i>have</i> to answer?"' 'andihavetoanswer'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Why aren\'t you in the mix, Tallys?"' 'whyarentyouinthemix'>><<set $tallysromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You\'re right, I <i>don\'t</i> like this question."' 'yourerightidontlikethisquestion'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"That\'s a stupid question. I\'m not going to answer it."' 'thatsastupidquestion'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"That\'s actually a good question."' 'thatsactuallyagoodquestion'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Tallys smirks. "Yes." "Fine, then," you mutter. "I'd marry…" <<include "fmk">>

She smiles at you from beneath her lashes. "I can always ask you that question more directly," is all she says. "For now, you may answer it the way I posed it." "Fine, then," you say. "I'd marry…" <<include "fmk">>

She lifts a shoulder in a lazy shrug. "You agreed to play the game. This is the game." "Fine, then," you mutter. "I'd marry…" <<include "fmk">>

Tallys frowns at you, but chooses not to comment. "Let's just roll again, then," she says, looking at the tiles. She seems unsurprised, though disappointed. "One… two…" <<include "flip">>

"I'd marry…" <<include "fmk">>

<<set $marry to "">><<set $fuck to "">><<set $kill to "">> <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Shery."' 'marryshery'>><<set $marry to "shery">><<if $gender is "female">><<set $sheryromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Blade."' 'marryblade'>><<set $marry to "blade">><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Trouble."' 'marrytrouble'>><<set $marry to "trouble">><<set $troubleromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <<if $tallysromanceflag gte 1>><li><<link '"You, Tallys."' 'marryyoutallys'>><<set $marry to "tallys">><<set $tallysromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link '"No one. Marriage isn\'t for me."' 'marriageisntforme'>><</link>></li> <<if $aro is true or $aroace is true>><li><<link '"No one. I\'m not interested in romance, let alone marriage."' 'nooneimnotinterestedinromance'>><</link>></li><</if>> </ul>

Tallys laughs. "A sweet and gentle wife for the Mage, I see," she comments. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I like Shery, what can I say?"' 'ilikesherywhat'>><<if $gender is "female">><<set $sheryromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"She can make me nice cups of tea at the end of long days."' 'shecanmakenicecupsoftea'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"It\'s just for the game—she just seemed like the best choice!"' 'itsjustforthegameshe'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Tallys' eyes sparkle with interest as she leans closer. "Is that so?" <ul class="choices"> <<if $attractedto != "men">><li><<link 'Well, yeah, you think you are starting to like Shery.' 'wellyeahlikeshery'>><<if $gender is "female">><<set $sheryromanceflag += 2>><</if>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link 'You\'re just kidding around: this is all in good fun. ' 'yourejustkiddingaroundthisisall'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Tallys tilts her eyes heavenward, as if thanking the gods for this wonderful gift. "A crush on our quartermaster," she notes. "That <i>is</i> scandalous." She shakes her head with a secret smile and politely moves on, sensing your growing embarrassment. "Now: who would you sleep with?" <<include "fmksleep">>

"Ah," Tallys says, looking just a trace disappointed. "If you say so. Now: who would you sleep with?" <<include "fmksleep">>

Tallys actually chortles, a delighted sound. "Truly a marriageable quality," she teases. "Though you know she can do that now, without needing to be wed?" "It's not the same without a marriage certificate hanging on the wall." "…Why would it be hanging on the wall?" "I don't know. Isn't that what you do with marriage certificates?" The two of you stare at each other before breaking out in a fit of laughter. You laugh for a long time before she reaches for a napkin, wiping the tears of mirth from her eyes. You think to yourself that she's very different now from the normally-reserved and cool-eyed face she presents to most others, even the other Shepherds. "Now then," Tallys chuckles, "who would you sleep with?" <<include "fmksleep">>

Tallys smiles at you teasingly. "Mm-hm. And who would you sleep with?" <<include "fmksleep">>

Tallys laughs. "A strong and silent husband for the Mage, I see," she comments. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I like Blade, what can I say?"' 'ilikebladewhatcani'>><<if $gender is "female">><<set $bladeromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"He won\'t be strong and silent <i>in bed</i>. Haha. Get it?"' 'hewontbesilentinbed'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"It\'s just for the game—he just seemed like the best choice!"' 'itsjustforthegameheseemed'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Tallys' eyes sparkle with interest as she leans closer. "Is that so?" <ul class="choices"> <<if $attractedto is not "women">><li><<link 'Well, yeah, you think you are starting to like Blade.' 'wellyeahlikeblade'>><<if $gender is "female">><<set $bladeromanceflag += 2>><</if>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link 'You\'re just kidding around: this is all in good fun. ' 'yourejustkiddingaroundthisisallblade'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Tallys tilts her eyes heavenward, as if thanking the gods for this wonderful gift. "A crush on our Commander," she notes. "That <i>is</i> scandalous." She shakes her head with a secret smile and politely moves on, sensing your growing embarrassment. "Now: who would you sleep with?" <<include "fmksleep">>

"Ah," Tallys says, looking just a bit disappointed. "If you say so. Now: who would you sleep with?" <<include "fmksleep">>

Tallys rolls her eyes, but she's clearly trying to keep her lips from twisting up into a laugh. "Very mature, <<c firstname>>," she says. "As if this game is the picture of maturity!" She laughs her assent and moves on. "I suppose that's true. Now, who would you sleep with?" <<include "fmksleep">>

Tallys smiles at you teasingly. "Mm-hm. And who would you sleep with?" <<include "fmksleep">>

Tallys laughs. "A brave and loving husband for the Mage, I see," she comments. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I like Trouble, what can I say?"' 'iliketroublewhatcanisay'>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Yeah, I can help him... polish his gun."' 'yeahicanhelphimpolishhisgun'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"It\'s just for the game—he just seemed like the best choice!"' 'itsjustforthegametrouble'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Tallys' eyes sparkle with interest as she leans closer. "Is that so?" <ul class="choices"> <<if $attractedto is not "women">><li><<link 'Well, yeah, you think you are starting to like Trouble.' 'wellyeahliketrouble'>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 2>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link 'You\'re just kidding around: this is all in good fun. ' 'yourejustkiddingaroundtrouble'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Tallys tilts her eyes heavenward, as if thanking the gods for this wonderful gift. "A crush on Trouble Alder, of all people," she whispers. "Wonders will never cease." She shakes her head with a secret smile and politely moves on, sensing your growing embarrassment. "Now: who would you sleep with?" <<include "fmksleep">>

"Ah," Tallys says, looking just a bit disappointed. "If you say so. Now: who would you sleep with?" <<include "fmksleep">>

Tallys turns red, though not from embarrassment, as you initially think—but from suppressed laughter. Tears well up in her eyes in her effort not to die laughing. "Ah… but he has… such large guns," she finally manages to choke out. "I can handle them," you answer confidently, and you stare at each other for a moment before collapsing in a fit of hysteria. Tallys gropes for a napkin just to wipe her eyes, and you think to yourself that she's so different from the normally-reserved and cool-eyed face she presents to most people, even other Shepherds. It's a rarity to see her like this, though the drinks must certainly help. After a moment she sputters: "Ah, then… who would you sleep with as a one-night affair?" <<include "fmksleep">>

Tallys smiles at you teasingly. "Mm-hm. And who would you sleep with?" <<include "fmksleep">>

She rolls her eyes, though you think she might be pleased by this answer. "I'm not in the game, <<c firstname>>," she reminds you. "Now, who would you sleep with?" <<include "fmksleep">>

Tallys crosses her arms. "That's not an uncommon sentiment," she says, though you can tell she's a bit disappointed you're not quite playing the game. "Now, who would you sleep with?" <<include "fmksleep">>

"Ah," Tallys says, blinking. "I'm sorry, I didn't know that. All right, then: who would you sleep with?" <<include "fmksleep">>

Tallys smiles. "So you like the pure and virginal type," she teases. <<if $gender is not "female">> "Though she doesn't exactly—her stars don't exactly align in your constellation, if you take my meaning." <br><br> "Shery's attracted to women?" you intuit. <br><br> Tallys nods. "She likely won't tell you outright, so I just thought I'd say." Then she smiles and puts her chin in her hand. <</if>>"And finally… who would you kill?" <br> <<include "fmkkill">>

"<i>Really</i>?" Tallys makes a face, squirming in her seat as if uncomfortable. "There's someone out there for everyone…" She looks suddenly transformed into a little girl feeling queasy about someone being attracted to her brother. "Eugh. And who would you kill?" <<include "fmkkill">>

Tallys smiles. "So you like the dark and brooding type," she teases. <<if $gender is not "female">> "Though I should say—his stars don't exactly align in your constellation, if you take my meaning." <br><br> "Blade's attracted to women?" you intuit. <br><br> Tallys nods. "He likely will never think to bring it up, being closed off as he is, so I thought I should say so." Then she smiles and puts her chin in her hand. <</if>>"And finally, who would you kill?" <br> <<include "fmkkill">>

As unfazed as ever, Tallys meets your eye without a blush. "I'm flattered, <<c firstname>>," she says with a slight smile. "Even if you are breaking the rules. Now, who would you kill?" <<include "fmkkill">>

Tallys sighs. "I thought we agreed to play the game on these terms?" You shrug. "I'm only speaking the truth." She rolls her eyes. "Fine, then. Who would you kill?" <<include "fmkkill">>

Tallys nods. "I see. Never mind, then. Who would you kill?" <<include "fmkkill">>

Tallys snorts. "Well, I'll be sure to never inform her—knowing you'd choose to kill her would be quite devastating to the poor girl." She gestures at the tiles. "Well, I'm all out of questions: shall we flip?" <<include "flip">>

Tallys snorts. "After the job of the Vice-Commander, I see," she comments. "I'll be sure to let him know." Then she gestures at the tiles. "Well, I'm all out of questions: shall we flip?" <<include "flip">>

Tallys snorts. "After the job of the Commander, I see," she comments. "I'll be sure to let him know." Then she gestures at the tiles. "Well, I'm all out of questions: shall we flip?" <<include "flip">>

Tallys snorts. "This might be the wrong order to join, then," she remarks, but she moves on. "Well, I'm all out of questions. Shall we flip again?" <<include "flip">>

Tallys traces a finger along her lip in thought. "Hmm," she hums. Then she looks at you. "What physical feature are you most self-conscious about?" You think on this. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"...My eyes."' 'myeyesconscious'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"...The color of my hair."' 'myhaircolorconscious'>><<if $haircolor is "rose-gold">><<set $hairdisplay to "pink">><<elseif $haircolor is "raven">><<set $hairdisplay to "black">><<elseif $haircolor is "autumn-colored">><<set $hairdisplay to "red">><<elseif $haircolor is "chestnut-colored" or $haircolor is "copper-colored">><<set $hairdisplay to "brown">><<elseif $haircolor is "platinum" or $haircolor is "honey-blond">><<set $hairdisplay to "yellow">><<elseif $haircolor is "ivory-colored">><<set $hairdisplay to "pale">><<else>><<set $hairdisplay to $haircolor>><</if>><</link>></li> <<if $heritage is "Hunter">><div class="heritage-item"><<link '"...The white streak in my hair."' 'whitestreakconscious'>><</link>></div><</if>> <<if $heritage is "Ket">><div class="heritage-item"><<link '"...The tattoo on my wrist."' 'wristtattooconscious'>><</link>></div><</if>> <<if $heritage is "Elf">><div class="heritage-item"><<link '"…My ears."' 'myearsconscious'>><</link>></div><</if>> <li><<link '"Honestly, I\'m not that self-conscious about anything."' 'notselfconscious'>><<setcourage +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Tallys cocks her head. "Really? I think they're quite beautiful." You smile crookedly as you stare down at the wet ring on the table, left behind by one of the glasses. "They make me stand out," you comment. "Or the <i>iladrin</i> does, anyway. I always feel people staring, so… sometimes I get self-conscious." Tallys raises her chin. "Well, you shouldn't," she says. "I think you should be proud of your heritage." You look at her. "You, of all people, know that it isn't always something wise to advertise." "Well," Tallys declares, "if anyone gives you any problems about it, I will be there to tell them a thing or two." She smiles at you. "Do you want to keep going?" <<include "flip">>

Tallys smiles slightly. "Really? I like your $hairdisplay hair. And besides, you can always dye it." You hold back an incredulous laugh. Hair dyes like that have only just made it out from the West, and they're so expensive that only the richest nobles are able to afford them. "Maybe someday," you say. "Flip?" Tallys nods. <<include "flip">>

"Why?" Tallys asks, surprised. "I think it's quite striking." You raise a hand to touch your hair self-consciously. "It always made me stand out, especially in my village," you murmur. "And it looks strange to outsiders. If I could get rid of it, I would." Tallys raises her chin. "Well, you shouldn't," she says. "I think you should be proud of your heritage." You smile crookedly. "You, of all people, know that it isn't always something wise to advertise." "Well," she declares, "if anyone gives you any problems about it, I will be there to tell them a thing or two." She smiles at you. "Do you want to keep going?" <<include "flip">>

Tallys cocks her head, looking down at the small, neat script inked on the inside of your wrist. "Really?" she asks. "I quite like it. It's very dashing." You withdraw the hand in question, tucking it protectively against your chest. "You don't know the story behind it," you tell her. "To the Ket, it marks me out as an outsider. It tells them that I'm not one of them." "But you wouldn't have received it if you weren't one of them," Tallys remarks, tilting her head further. Watching you, she adds, "I think you should be proud of your heritage." The laugh that escapes your mouth is bitter. "You, of all people, know that it isn't always something wise to advertise." "Well," she declares, "if anyone gives you any problems about it, I will be there to tell them a thing or two." She smiles at you. "Do you want to keep going?" <<include "flip">>

Tallys looks delighted. "But I love your ears!" "They're silly," you complain, reaching up to touch your slightly-pointed ears. "Neither fully-pointed like a true Elf's nor rounded like… well, anyone else's. They look ridiculous." Tallys reaches out to brush your left ear affectionately. "I think they're sweet. Very unique." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Pull away.' 'pullawayfromtallys'>><<set $tallysromanceflag -= 1>><</link>></li> <<if $attractedto is not "men">><li><<link 'Lean into her touch.' 'leanintohertouch'>><<set $tallysromanceflag += 1>><<settallys +1>><</link>></li><</if>> </ul>

Tallys's hand falls away, and for a moment she is silent. The pause in the air rings with tension and something that feels like hurt. But when she speaks again, her tone is casual. "Shall we play again?" <<include "flip">>

Tallys smiles slightly, a small dark blush dusting her tan and freckled cheeks. Then her hand falls away, and she turns back to the tiles. "…Shall we go again?" <<include "flip">>

"Well, that's good," Tallys says magnanimously. "It means you're confident and comfortable in your body. Most would envy that." She turns back to the tiles. "Shall we go again?" <<include "flip">>

"Aha!" Tallys says triumphantly. "This shall be the last question. If you could have any wish in the world, what would you ask for?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I\'d wish for world peace."' 'worldpeacewish'>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'d wish for true love."' 'truelovewish'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'d wish for wealth and power."' 'wealthandpowerwish'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'d wish for fame and glory."' 'fameandglorywish'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'d wish for my family back."' 'familybackwish'>><<settallys +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'d wish to just... be normal."' 'benormalwish'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Tallys nods sagely. "No Autarchy, no Diminished, and no Endarkened," she says. "Just peace and unity. Something for us all to strive for." <<include "q6">>

Tallys smiles, a little bitterly. "A romantic wish," she says lightly. "I wouldn't have expected it." She raises her glass to you in a toast. "I hope that you find it someday." <<include "q6">>

Tallys raises her eyebrows. "And what would you do with it?" she wonders aloud. "Good or ill? They say wealth and power corrupts even the purest of hearts." <<include "q6">>

Tallys looks thoughtful. "Interesting," she says. "But what would you be famous—or infamous—for? That would be the question." <<include "q6">>

Tallys' face sobers instantly; her whole body goes tense. Almost without thinking about it, she lays her hand on top of yours. "I'm the same as you, <<c firstname>>," she says very, very softly. Her eyes are huge and limpid as they stare into yours: her gaze is green as grass and as bottomless as a still lake. "More than anything in the world…. that's what I wish for, too." <<include "q6">>

Tallys' face sobers instantly. Almost without thinking about it, she lays her hand on top of yours. "That's what <i>they</i> want you to feel," the Elf says very, very softly. "Don't let the Autarchy win. You are normal. We predate the Norms by at least a thousand years: we came to this Continent first. It is they who are the outsiders. Not you." <<include "q6">>

Then she drains her glass before gathering up the Elements tiles again. "Apologies. I think I'm done playing for the night." <<include "endgame">>

But before you can do anything, a commotion makes the two of you look up. Tallys quickly clears the tiles back into her little pouch. A pair of men have come into the bar. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "inquisitors">><</link>></center>

<<audio ":playing" fadeoverto 5 0>>You notice them immediately, though they're dressed in the same nondescript clothing as everyone else. It's more their attitude that attracts your attention: they move too authoritatively and look around too searchingly to be normal civilians, and you can tell at a glance that they're not Diminished either. In another moment, you understand who they are. Inquisitors. You're not the only one who takes notice of your new visitors. The people immediately around the tavern's entrance hush, and slowly the silence unfurls like a ripple spreading out from an impact point. It's clear that these Inquisitors aren't part of the tavern's usual clientele. After an awkward moment, one of the barmaids shuffles forward. "C-can I help you, sirs?" The two Inquisitors ignore her at first, looking around and studying the faces of the bar patrons, as if committing each of them to memory. Finally one of the Inquisitors, a tall blond man with an arrogant countenance, turns to her imperiously and says, "Fetch the owner. We would speak to him." The barmaid scurries off, and shortly enough returns with an anxious, mustachioed Norm man in tow. "Samphire Lindell," the blond Inquisitor says. His voice carries clearly all the way to the back of the room. No one else speaks. "You are harboring many Diminished here." The owner bobs his head in nervous deference. "Begging your pardon, sirs," he says. "I'm not harboring anybody. This is a place of business… these are paying customers…" "But why not serve others of your own kind?" This comes from the other Inquisitor, a slender man with dark coloring. His voice is as light and sibilant as a snake's. "Why turn your establishment into a potential breeding ground for dissent?" "Sirs?" Samphire Lindell clearly doesn't know what to say. "All are welcome here. Norms, too. Everyone." This answer doesn't seem to satisfy the Inquisitors. The blond one holds out his clenched hand, gloved palm turned downward, and commands, "Hold out your hand." "Sirs?" "<i>Hold out your hand.</i>" <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "inquisitors2">><</link>></center>

When the man continues to cower, visibly shaking now, the Inquisitor turns to the silent, horrified crowd and addresses it in a clear voice. "Bear witness. What you see here is a test of the Heir's devising: a way to clearly discern if there is holy love in a Diminished's heart. Or a Norm's." He holds up a thin, silver disc between his gloved fingers: it's stamped with the Autarch's emblem, an all-seeing eye radiating rays like the sun. "This coin is a new talisman and weapon of the Autarchy. It will burn the flesh of the blasphemous; it will do nothing to those who love the Golden One. If this man cries out and drops the coin, we will take him to the Chrysalis beneath the Sun Court. We will keep him there until he has sufficiently metamorphosed with love for the Autarchy." He pauses, lips twitching. "If he does not drop the talisman, we will not take him to the Chrysalis and will instead take our leave." You and Tallys exchange frantic and expressive looks. What kind of sick test is this? A new trial of the "Heir's" devising? This must be Enik's doing—but what is the Chrysalis? Some kind of evil instrument or conversion chamber deep in the Sun Court's bowels? You shudder as you imagine what kind of depraved punishments have been concocted there. "Is it possible?" Tallys asks under her breath. "A coin that can tell if you love the Autarch or not?" "I don't know," you murmur back. "It's unlike any magic I've ever heard of—if it is magic. It might even just burn people indiscriminately. Maybe that's the point." She chances a glance at the front of the room. "Poor man. He has six daughters. They're watching now." She means the barmaids, of course—two of them are comforting a third one, who's sobbing quietly into her apron. The entire room feels muggy, stifled by a feeling of dread and preliminary mourning. What will you do? <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'I sit quietly and leave the man to his fate. I can\'t afford to draw the attention of the Inquisitors to myself.' 'isitquietlyandleavetheman'>><<setcourage -10>><<setcunning +10>><<setintelligence +3>><<setloyal -5>><<settallys +1>><<setorder +5>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'I stand and intercede. I can\'t just sit by and let this man be taken away.' 'istandandintercedeicant'>><<setcompassionate +10>><<setcourage +8>><<setcroelle +20>><<setreputation +2>><<settallys +3>><<setorder -3>><<set $inquisitors to true>><</link>></li> </ul>

You and Tallys both look away as the man reluctantly holds out his hand. You hear the Inquisitor drop the coin in it… and then the man begins to scream. Tallys flinches at the blood-curdling noise—Samphire Lindell's voice cracks as he begs the Inquisitors to make the pain stop—and her shoulders tremble. But otherwise, she doesn't move. Samphire's daughters stifle their cries and hide their faces. Your fingers dig red crescents into your palms as you wait for the torture to stop. <i>That could be you</i>, you tell yourself. <i>Nothing protects you from the Inquisitors—nothing. Not even working for the same person.</i> After a few moments, Samphire's screaming subsides. The little coin drops to the floor with an innocent tinkling clatter. After picking it up with gloved hands, the Inquisitors wordlessly whisk the man out of the bar—and the room looses a collective breath of relief. The very walls seem to sag, as if they'd tensed along with everyone else. When you look, you can see the expressions of guilt on people's faces: guilt not just for standing by and watching, and also for feeling relieved that Samphire had been targeted instead of them. Tallys looks at you as a crush of people hurries to evacuate the pub, lest the Inquisitors come back. One of Samphire's daughters sinks to her knees. "I'm glad you didn't do it," Tallys says faintly: her eyes are dim and sad. "I saw it in your eyes—that you were thinking about it." You stare at her. "Thinking about what?" Tallys averts her gaze. "Running headlong into that," she says in an undertone. "But you knew our place, the purview of our work. You didn't draw the Inquisitors' attention to us. …To me." She shudders, then dashes a hand across her eyes. "I don't know what I would have done if they'd threatened to take you. It would have spelled the end for us." "What do you think the Chrysalis is?" you ask her. Tallys shudders again. "I don't know," she says. "I hope we never find out." Then she lifts her gaze to yours. She draws a shaky breath. "Thank you, <<c firstname>>." You don't feel very good, being thanked right now. "For what?" Tallys doesn't look away. What she says next seems like a joke, but the Elf doesn't smile. "Thank you for not being Trouble." <<include "endchapter">>

<<nobr>><<achieve "achieve_bystander">><<notify_achievement "Vox Populi" "Interceded in the bar with Tallys and the Inquisitors, saving a life.">><</nobr>>Before you know it, you're rising to your feet, though Tallys snatches at your arm in vain and hisses, "No!" You ignore her and say in your own clear—thankfully steady—voice: "Stop!" The Inquisitors' eyes immediately snap to you. Everyone except Samphire Lindell turns; he stays where he is, head bowed, too afraid to turn and redirect attention to himself with his movement. "Who are you to tell us to stop, Diminished?" the blond Inquisitor asks, his lip curling. "A Shepherd," you say, feeling a little silly without your cloak, which is still drying on the back of your chair. Nonetheless, you reach up and tug your sun medallion out so that it hangs freely on your chest. "And another agent of the Autarchy. And I say that you have no cause to 'test' this man. He's done nothing wrong. He's just running a business." "A business that lubricates the wheels of rebellion," the other Inquisitor answers coldly. "And conspiracy." "Do you have proof of such a rebellion? Any conspiracies?" Silence from the Inquisitors—but a few murmurs of agreement and assent from the other watching Diminished. You can't help but feel a little emboldened: if it came down to it, you outnumber these Inquisitors by two score to one. "I think you should just leave," you tell them. "Go and find real criminals, real threats to the Autarchy. I don't think the Autarch would be very pleased to hear that you were going around terrorizing citizens—particularly law-abiding Norms like Mr. Lindell here." "Do not dare to presume you know what the Autarch desires," the blond Inquisitor snaps. Then he regards you, eyes glittering with a special malice. "Unless… <i>you</i> would like to prove your worthiness to wield the Autarch's power?" Your spine turns to ice. Tallys puts her face in her hands, then looks up at you and mouths: <i>We could kill them</i>. Imperceptibly, you shake your head. Killing Inquisitors is a crime beyond safe harbor, even if the whole room were willing to stay silent about it. Which they wouldn't. But you see Tallys's hand drift slowly down to the knife at her waist. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "istandandintercedeicant2">><</link>></center>

The Inquisitor pads forward to face you, apparently forgetting all about the trembling owner of the bar. The crowd parts before him like a school of fish avoiding a shark. When he stops in front of you, you can feel his breath on your face: it's so cold you almost wonder if the man is dead. "Go on," he says, his eyes like chips of ice. "If you have the audacity to command us, let us see the worth of your command. We will listen if you prove that you, too, love the Autarch whose authority you flaunt." He holds out the silver coin. The eye on it flashes in the firelight. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Take it.' 'takeitcoin'>><<set $coinscar to true>><<sethealth -5>><<setorder -3>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Tell the Inquisitor you won\'t do it.' 'telltheinquisitorno'>><<set $croellesave to true>><<set $croellestatus to "He saved you from the Inquisitors, but you don't know how or why.">><</link>></li> </ul>

Reluctantly, you hold out your palm, and the Inquisitor drops it into your hand. For a moment, nothing happens: the disc sits in your palm, only slightly warm from the Inquisitor's grip. You curl your fingers around it and feel the imprint of the eye press into your flesh. For a moment you think you've passed the test. Then you begin to feel it. A burning feeling, not like that of hot metal, but a caustic sensation like acid, at first only fizzing and frothing uncomfortably against your hand. You have to grit your teeth against the suddenness of it. Can it sense your hatred and anger, after all? Is it only reflecting the venom of your feeling towards the Autarchy onto your flesh and body? Or would this have happened to anybody, down to the most devout follower, and that is the whole point of the exercise—to make every last person feel inadequate in the face of the Autarchy's demands? The burning sensation increases. Now it's really singeing you; your palm sends hot feverish waves of pain up your arm and into your shoulder and chest. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Keep holding the coin and stay silent.' 'keepholdingthecoin'>><<if $strength gte 20>><<set $inquisitorswin to true>><<setreputation +5>><<sethealth -10>><<else>><<set $croellesave to true>><<set $croellestatus to "He saved you from the Inquisitors, but you don't know how or why.">><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Drop the coin and admit defeat. ' 'dropthecoindefeat'>><<setcourage -3>><<setcunning +3>><<setorder -5>><<set $croellesave to true>><<set $croellestatus to "He saved you from the Inquisitors, but you don't know how or why.">><</link>></li> </ul>

<<if $strength gte 20>> Sweat breaks out on your forehead, but years of hardship and training keep you silent. The coin singes you, so that you imagine your flesh blackening and blistering within your closed fist. It feels like squeezing a serpent's fang, venom weeping into your palm, flowing into your blood. But you make eye contact with the Inquisitor and keep your face calm. <br><br> His eyes blaze with fury—and a little bit of fear. It's clear he was not expecting your stoicism. After a few moments of silence, Tallys speaks up, her voice only a little shaky: "So. It's clear Officer <<c surname>>… loves the Autarch. I believe there is nothing more to prove." <br><br> The Inquisitor's lips tighten… but he holds out his gloved hand for the coin. You raise your hand and plunk the coin onto his palm as casually as possible: you will <i>not</i> show that you're in any pain whatsoever. Still without breaking eye contact, you say… <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"So. I believe I told you to get the fuck out of here?"' 'coinstrengthif'>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setorder -1>><<setreputation +5>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Now why don\'t you prove your loyalty to the Autarch, like I did?"' 'coinstrengthif'>><<setorder -3>><<setcunning +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I believe our business here is concluded."' 'coinstrengthif'>><<setcharisma +3>><</link>></li> </ul> <<else>> You shut your eyes and grit your teeth, telling yourself to ignore the furious burning in your hand. But after just another moment of searing pain, of feeling like you're holding onto a smoldering coal, your body's instincts take over… and you drop the coin to the ground with a barely-audible hiss of pain. <br><br> The Inquisitor's eyes blaze with triumph. <br><br> "<i>Blasphemer</i>," the other one says. <br><br> Tallys's hand tightens on her knife. <br><br> Before the Inquisitor can speak again, however, another, gruffer voice chimes in: "It's a bad look, agents of the Autarchy squabbling amongst each other." <br><br> Both you and the Inquisitor turn to look at the speaker. The crowd parts to reveal Croelle watching the scene, seated languidly at a table across the room with his boots hiked up on its surface. When you catch his eyes, he smirks at you—then turns his attention to the two Inquisitors. They both stiffen under his harsh yellow gaze: it's almost raptor-like. Someone standing next to him gasps. <br><br> "You must have better things to do," Croelle drawls. <br><br> For a moment you think you're about to witness this red-haired man's murder. At the very least he's going to get dragged off to the "Chrysalis": your mind whirs as you weigh whether to prevent this—or allow it to happen in exchange for your own life. <br><br> But to your deep surprise, the Inquisitors don't say anything. Instead, they back off. The dark-skinned man glances at the other, then jerks his head, as if to leave. The blond Inquisitor looks sullen, like a child being scolded by an older sibling—or cowed, as if he's afraid of Croelle. They both nod jerkily at him, avoiding eye contact… and then leave without another word. <br><br> Tallys and you exchange glances. Who <i>is</i> this "watcher?" Why does he seem to wield such power—and why is this the second time you've run into him? It definitely can't be a coincidence. <br><br> Croelle rises from his table, as if to follow the two Inquisitors. He moves at a leisurely pace, taking his time: he flips a coin into his empty cup to pay for his drinks, ignoring Samphire Lindell and his daughters staring at him in awe and gratitude. When he draws up to you, he stops. Then meets your eye and smiles. Somehow the look makes his pale face seem taut and strained. <br><br> "You are full of surprises," he says, glancing down at your sun medallion. <br><br> You raise your chin. "So are you." <br><br> His grin turns wolfish: his canines are ever slightly pointed. "You're not going to thank me?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Thank you, Croelle."' 'thankyoucroelle'>><<setcroelle +5>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Why do the Inquisitors listen to you?"' 'whydotheinquisitorslisten'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Why did you do it?"' 'whydidyoudoitcroelle'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li> </ul> <</if>>

He stares at you for a moment. "Goodbye, <<c surname>>." <<include "thenhegivesyou">>

He stares at you for a moment. "You'll find out someday." <<include "thenhegivesyou">>

The Inquisitor's face goes white, but before he can respond, someone in the crowd says, "Yes, you promised!" "Yes, you said you'd obey $them if $she proved $her worth!" It seems your actions have galvanized the crowd: they're more inspired now, more unified, and pretty soon the atmosphere is going to turn mob-like if the Inquisitors don't keep their word. The Inquisitors glance at each other, fury radiating off of them in waves, and for a moment you think they really won't comply. You flex your uninjured fist, readying yourself for a fight. Then, wordlessly, the Inquisitors sweep around and exit the bar—but not without casting one last wrathful glance your way. The door swings shut with a bang, and you blow out a breath. You know you haven't seen the last of them. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "coinstrengthif2">><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<achieve "achieve_chrysalis">><<notify_achievement "Ametabolous" "Successfully passed the Inquisitors\' test.">><</nobr>>A cheer goes up from the crowd as soon as the Inquisitors are well out of sight. Samphire Lindell tearfully shakes your hand—his daughters promise you free drinks for the rest of your life—and a few tentative onlookers step forward and thank you. "Godsent," one bystander says, pumping your arm up and down furiously. "Truly, you Shepherds are protectors of the people!" It's not until you collapse back into your chair across from Tallys that you open your hand and survey the damage. Your palm has a reddish-black mark on it, the wound already cracking and oozing clear fluid: the imprint of the eye on the coin has left a gruesome sigil on your palm. When Tallys catches sight of it, she hisses through her teeth. "Gods above." <ul class="choices"> <<if $specialization is "healer" or $astral gte 25>><li><<link '"It\'s fine. I can just heal it."' 'itsfineicanjusthealit'>><<set $coinscar to false>><<sethealth to 100>><<setmagic +1>><<setastral +1>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link 'Let her take your hand and look closer.' 'lethertakeyourhand'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Tuck your hand against your chest. You\'ll deal with this on your own. ' 'tuckyourhandagainstyourchest'>><<setloyal -5>><<setcourage +1>><</link>></li> <<if $healthpotion is true and $healthpotionnumber gt 0>><li><<link 'Use the medicinal salve you bought from Chandry on the wound.' 'usethemedicinalsalve'>><<sethealth to 100>><<set $coinscar to false>><<set $healthpotionnumber -= 1>><<if $healthpotionnumber is 0>><<set $healthpotion to false>><</if>><</link>></li><</if>> </ul>

You feel the warm fizz of your magic beginning to close the wound. In moments, the injury has been covered with tender new, pink skin. In an hour or so it will be as if it had never happened. Tallys looks around and remarks nervously, "That's not strictly Shepherd work, you know. They could arrest you for that." But she also looks relieved. You flex your hand. "I'd like to see them try." <<include "tallysreaction">>

Tallys makes a sympathetic noise as she examines your wound. "I'll give you a salve back at the compound," she says. "It will heal this quickly, but you'll always have a bit of a scar." You stare at the eye staring back at you from your own palm. "A nice little reminder." "A reminder of your heroism," Tallys says, releasing you. She blows out a breath. "I don't know what possessed you to do that… But you saved a man's life today." You can't tell if she looks awed or worried. <<include "tallysreaction">>

You clench your hand. "It'll be fine." Tallys stares. "You need medical attention. You'll have a scar." You shake your head. "It doesn't matter. Don't worry about me." The wound in your palm seems to blaze in protest, but you ignore it. <<include "tallysreaction">>

Tallys helps you apply the pale green, astringent-smelling salve to your palm. You feel a soothing coolness begin to spread outwards from the wound, and you feel a certainty that it will heal without a scar. <<include "tallysreaction">>

Then he gives you a lazy salute and exits the bar. The door closes behind him with a bang and an icy gust of wind. With a collective breath of relief, the crowd disperses, hasty to leave the site of the Inquisitors' interest. Samphire Lindell shakily collapses into a chair and begins to cry. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "thenhegivesyou2">><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<achieve "achieve_watcher">><<notify_achievement "Watcher" "Had Croelle save you from the Inquisitors.">><</nobr>>It's not until you collapse back into your chair across from Tallys that you open your hand and survey the damage. Your palm has a reddish-black mark on it, the wound already cracking and oozing clear liquid: the imprint of the eye on the coin has left a gruesome sigil on your palm. When Tallys catches sight of it, she hisses through her teeth. "Gods above." <ul class="choices"> <<if $specialization is "healer" or $astral gte 25>><li><<link '"It\'s fine. I can just heal it."' 'itsfineicanjusthealit'>><<set $coinscar to false>><<sethealth to 100>><<setmagic +1>><<setastral +1>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link 'Let her take your hand and look closer.' 'lethertakeyourhand'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Tuck your hand against your chest. You\'ll deal with this on your own. ' 'tuckyourhandagainstyourchest'>><<setloyal -5>><<setcourage +1>><</link>></li> <<if $healthpotion is true>><li><<link 'Use the medicinal salve you bought from Chandry on the wound.' 'usethemedicinalsalve'>><<sethealth to 100>><<set $coinscar to false>><<set $healthpotionnumber -= 1>><<if $healthpotionnumber is 0>><<set $healthpotion to false>><</if>><</link>></li><</if>> </ul>

You shut your eyes and grit your teeth, telling yourself you can't maim yourself for this. You drop the coin to the ground with a barely-audible hiss of pain, and a collective groan rises up from the watching crowd. The Inquisitor's eyes blaze with triumph. "<i>Blasphemer</i>," the other one says. Tallys' hand tightens on her knife. Before the Inquisitor can speak, however, another, gruffer voice chimes in: "It's a bad look, agents of the Autarchy squabbling amongst each other." Both you and the Inquisitor turn to look at the speaker. The crowd parts to reveal Croelle watching the scene, seated languidly at a table across the room with his boots hiked up. When you catch his eyes, he smirks at you—then turns his attention to the two Inquisitors. They both stiffen under his harsh yellow gaze: it's almost raptor-like. Someone standing next to him gasps. "You must have better things to do," Croelle drawls. For a moment you think you're about to witness this red-haired man's murder. At the very least he's going to get dragged off to the "Chrysalis": your mind whirs as you weigh whether to prevent this—or allow it to happen in exchange for your own life. But to your deep surprise, the Inquisitors don't say anything. Instead, they back off. The dark-skinned man glances at the other, then jerks his head, as if to leave. The blond Inquisitor looks sullen, like a child being scolded by an older sibling—or cowed, as if he's afraid of Croelle. They both nod jerkily at him, avoiding eye contact… and then leave without another word. Tallys and you exchange glances. Who <i>is</i> this "watcher?" Why does he seem to wield such power—and why is this the second time you've run into him? It definitely can't be a coincidence. Croelle rises from his table, as if to follow the two Inquisitors. He moves at a leisurely pace, taking his time: he flips a coin into his empty cup to pay for his drinks, ignoring Samphire Lindell and his daughters staring at him in awe and gratitude. When he draws up to you, he stops. Then meets your eye and smiles. Somehow the look makes his pale face seem taut and strained. "You are full of surprises," he says, glancing down at your sun medallion. You raise your chin. "So are you." His grin turns wolfish: his canines are ever slightly pointed. "You're not going to thank me?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Thank you, Croelle."' 'thankyoucroelle'>><<setcroelle +5>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Why do the Inquisitors listen to you?"' 'whydotheinquisitorslisten'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Why did you do it?"' 'whydidyoudoitcroelle'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

The Inquisitor's face contorts, and you don't know if it's into an expression of rage or triumph. Tallys's hand tightens on her knife. Before the Inquisitor can speak, however, another, gruffer voice chimes in: "It's a bad look, agents of the Autarchy squabbling amongst each other." Both you and the Inquisitor turn to look at the speaker. The crowd parts to reveal Croelle watching the scene, seated languidly at a table across the room with his boots hiked up. When you catch his eyes, he smirks at you—then turns his attention to the two Inquisitors. They both stiffen under his harsh yellow gaze: it's almost raptor-like. Someone standing next to him gasps. "You must have better things to do," Croelle drawls. For a moment you think you're about to witness this red-haired man's murder. At the very least he's going to get dragged off to the "Chrysalis": your mind whirs as you weigh whether to prevent this—or allow it to happen in exchange for the barkeeper's life. But to your deep surprise, the Inquisitors don't say anything. Instead, they back off. The dark-skinned man glances at the other, then jerks his head, as if to leave. The blond Inquisitor looks sullen, like a child being scolded by an older sibling—or cowed, as if he's afraid of Croelle. They both nod jerkily at him, avoiding eye contact… and then leave without another word. Tallys and you exchange glances. Who <i>is</i> this "watcher?" Why does he seem to wield such power—and why is this the second time you've run into him? It definitely can't be a coincidence. Croelle rises from his table, as if to follow the two Inquisitors. He moves at a leisurely pace, taking his time: he flips a coin into his empty cup to pay for his drinks, ignoring Samphire Lindell and his daughters staring at him in awe and gratitude. When he draws up to you, he stops. Then meets your eye and smiles. Somehow the look makes his pale face seem taut and strained. "You are full of surprises," he says, glancing down at your sun medallion. You raise your chin. "So are you." His grin turns wolfish: his canines are ever slightly pointed. "You're not going to thank me?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Thank you, Croelle."' 'thankyoucroelle2'>><<setcroelle += 5>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Why do the Inquisitors listen to you?"' 'whydotheinquisitorslisten2'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Why did you do it?"' 'whydidyoudoitcroelle2'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

He stares at you for a moment. "Goodbye, <<c surname>>." <<include "lazysalutecroelle">>

He stares at you for a moment. "You'll find out someday." <<include "lazysalutecroelle">>

<<nobr>><<achieve "achieve_watcher">><<notify_achievement "Watcher" "Had Croelle save you from the Inquisitors.">><</nobr>> Afterwards, Tallys also sags into her chair. She loosens her hold on her knife to dash away something from her eye; her hands are trembling. "Thank the gods that man stepped in," she murmurs. "I don't know if you're brave or stupid." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Why not both?"' 'whynotbothtallys'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Why didn\'t you do anything?"' 'whydidntyoudoanythingtallys'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Someone had to stop them."' 'someonehadtostopthem'>><<settallys +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

She smiles briefly. "It's a good thing you joined this Order, <<c firstname>>," she notes. You can't tell if she sounds sarcastic or proud. "You really are… a Shepherd until the end." <<include "endchapter">>

<<nobr>><<if $tallystime is 1>> Her shoulders tighten. "I already told you," Tallys says stiffly. "The Inquisitors killed my family. My friends. Everyone I ever knew and loved. I can't… confront them so easily. Not like you." <br><br> She looks away again and shakily reaches for her drink. "Well," she says after taking a sip. She raises a hand to her throat, as if it's sore. "At least you saved one person. I suppose it's something to celebrate. I only pray this doesn't have consequences down the road." <br><br> <<include "endchapter">> <<else>> Her shoulders tighten, and Tallys looks away. "I need to… avoid Inquisitors, as much as I can," she says stiffly. "I can't draw their attention to myself. I just…can't. I'm not like you." <br><br> She looks away again and shakily reaches for her drink. "Well," she says after taking a sip. "At least you saved one person. I suppose that's saving something to celebrate." She raises a hand to her throat, as if it's sore. "…I only pray this doesn't have consequences down the road." <br><br> <<include "endchapter">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Tallys' lips twitch into a slight smile. "An everyday hero," she says lightly. "Just like Trouble." She looks thoughtful. "But also not. Otherwise you wouldn't have come here with me." "A mix of both you and Trouble," you joke. Tallys doesn't laugh: instead she seems pensive. "Maybe you're just what the Order needs." Then she looks up at you, her expression grave. "You know this will catch the ire of the Inquisitors." You shrug. "And the Autarch. But since when have I not had their dislike? Why worry about people who hate me anyway?" Tallys shakes her head. "This is going to be worse. They're threatened enough by you as it is. This will cause waves." She sighs and sits back, a little resigned. "You saved one person today, <<c firstname>>," she says, raising a hand to her throat, as if it's sore. "I suppose it's something to celebrate. But I only pray this doesn't have consequences down the road." <<include "endchapter">>

Tallys stares at you in stunned silence for several seconds. Then her lips twist up into a rueful smile, and she says shakily, "Yes, you truly looked… like the stuff of legends. A champion of the downtrodden." Then her smile falls from her lips, and she frowns and says, "It's something to celebrate: you saved the life of one person today, undoubtedly." She looks away. "…I only pray it doesn't have further consequences down the road." <<include "endchapter">>

Tallys sucks in her cheeks sharply. "I…" she begins. Then she swallows, hard enough that it looks like it hurts. "I… I'm sorry. I froze up. I've spent so long evading their attention, avoiding them at all costs… I didn't have it in me to make myself known to them." She ducks her head, her shoulders curling inward: she looks incredibly shamed. "…Forgive me. You're a much braver soul than I." Neither of you say much for the rest of the night. <<include "endchapter">>

Tallys sucks in her cheeks. "I… don't know," she says slowly. "I was ready to defend you, I know that much. But… I've been evading the Inquisitors for years, terrified they were going to single me out, take <i>me</i> to the Chrysalis. I don't know if… if I could have really done it." "Well, it's the thought that counts," you say, trying to keep things light. Tallys smiles, ever so faintly. "And no one around here is going to forget that your thought was very noble and brave." Then she bites her lip. "I know it's something to celebrate: you undoubtedly saved Samphire Lindell's life tonight." She looks away. "…I only pray this doesn't have consequences further down the road." <<include "endchapter">>

Tallys looks ashen. "I've heard… whispers of it," she murmurs faintly. "A place of Enik Goldenson's devising, a place where they… break you, extract all of the goodness and life from you like marrow from a bone." She looks away. "It's our own version of Hael on earth." "Then it's a good thing none of us went there tonight," you say, trying to keep things light. Tallys doesn't smile. "It's something to celebrate: I have no doubt that you saved Samphire Lindell's life tonight." She looks away. "…I just pray this incident doesn't have consequences further down the road, for your sake, <<c firstname>>. Please be careful—and keep an eye out. The Inquisitors will have a target on your back for this." <<include "endchapter">>

<<nobr>><<if $tallysequalist is true>> <<include "tallysend">> <<elseif $troubleequalist is true>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "troubleend">><<if $childrendead is false>><<set $resources += 1>><<set $shepherdgold += 1000>><</if>><</link>></center> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $troublehate is false>> <<set $troublestatus to "He's grateful to you and feels like you're good friends.">><<set $tallysstatus to "She feels a bit awkward around you and Trouble, but that will subside.">> <<include "troublelikeend">> <<elseif $troublehate is true>> <<set $troublestatus to "He despises you for what you've done.">><<set $tallysstatus to "She's a bit wary of you after what's transpired.">> <<include "troublehateend">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $childrendead is true>> The two of you return to the compound just as dawn begins to break, bedraggled and weary. Grey light touches the horizon as you slowly mount the steps of the Shepherds' compound. Shery and Tallys come rushing out to greet you, and briefly you explain the situation: you were right about the Equalists, but weren't able to recover the children. Yet. <br><br> "We have to get our officers to start looking right away," Shery says, eyes wide. <br><br> "It might be a matter of jurisdiction, now," Tallys answers quietly. "It sounds like the Inquisitors have taken the case over. We should respect their authority. Unless we're asked to join or intercede, they'll devote their resources to finding the children in our stead." <br><br> What she doesn't say hangs between you in the air like an guillotine: that there may not be any children to find, because they're either long-gone or already dead. <br><br> And what if they're dead because of you? <br><br> Trouble balls his fists and stares at the ground, saying nothing. He still hasn't spoken to Tallys directly, not since their argument, and she has returned the treatment in kind. But now she stares at him with something like pity in her eyes and says softly, "You were right, Trouble. You were right all along." <br><br> After a long, tense moment, he sighs. "Not about everything," he mutters. "The kids weren't there." <br><br> "They'll find them." She takes him in for another moment. Then: "Did it feel good? Did it feel… right? Destroying those who tormented you? Taking your revenge on those who damaged your life so terribly?" <br><br> Bizarrely, it's not an admonishment, but rather something like hope… <br><br> Trouble snorts, and it's a bitter sound. "Ask me again in a few years," he says. "I don't know myself well enough yet." He glances at you. "I'm just glad <<c firstname>> was there to make sure I didn't get myself killed." He turns away. "I guess I can take satisfaction, knowing they're never going to hurt someone like they hurt me again. And that my instincts were right. But—in this case—" He pauses, not looking at anybody. "I kind of wish they were wrong." <br><br> <<include "bladereturns">> <<else>> The two of you return to the compound just as dawn begins to break, bedraggled but triumphant. Grey light touches the horizon just as you <<if $childrenquarantined is true>> herd the children inside, and for the next hour there's a great bustle and flurry of movement as Shery is roused from her bed and your new guests are examined, treated, and tucked into bed, with immediate summons going out to their parents. You're too exhausted to pay much attention to the logistics, but you do notice Tallys—owl-eyed and looking haggard—peeking her head around the corner to stare at the commotion before beating a hasty retreat to her room. You look at Trouble, who shrugs and says, now in a very good mood: "I'll talk to her. It'll be fine." <br><br> You glance at the sight of two siblings joyously reuniting with their parents and smile. "Yes, it will." <br><br> <<include "bladereturns">> <<elseif $childrenhome is true>> strip off your heavy, sodden cloaks and begin to drag yourselves to bed. Shery pokes her head out of her room, flustered and worried, and you spend some time catching her up on things while she brews the two of you some dark sweet tea. At one point you notice Tallys—owl-eyed and looking haggard—peeking her head around the corner before beating a hasty retreat to her room. You look at Trouble, who shrugs and says, now in a very good mood: "I'll talk to her. It'll be fine." <br><br> You smile at the memory of bringing the children home to their families. "Yes, it will." <br><br> <<include "bladereturns">> <<else>> <<include "bladereturns">> <</if>> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if settings.notifications>><<notify 5s>><i class="fas fa-heart-broken"></i> Trouble will <br> remember that.<</notify>><</if>><</nobr>>Trouble shoves his way past you as you return to the compound. You're met by a worried Shery along the way, but Trouble doesn't stop to talk to her. He throws you a disgusted glance at you over his shoulder—one that says <i>You make me sick</i>—before vanishing into his darkened room, a place that smells of gunpowder and iron. The door slams harshly behind him as he goes. The noise brings Tallys out of her room, and both she and Shery look at you questioningly. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"He\'ll get over it."' 'hellgetoverit'>><<setcompassionate -5>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Something terrible happened tonight..."' 'somethingterriblehappenedtonight'>><<setcompassionate +5>><</link>></li> </ul>

Shery bites her lip, looking doubtful. "If you say so…" Tallys just looks at you with too-knowing eyes, as if she can see the blood on your hands. <<nobr>><<if $compassionate gte 50>> You can't bring yourself to meet her gaze, and are forced to turn away. <br><br> <<include "bladereturns">> <<else>> You stare back steadily until she's forced to turn away. <br><br> <<include "bladereturns">> <</if>><</nobr>>

You explain what happened, and both women go utterly silent. "You gave them to the Inquisitors?" Tallys asks hollowly. "After all that?" Shery bites her lips. "I'm… I'm sure that the Autarch will treat them fairly. She must have a heart for children…" The Autarch, in fact, does not have a heart for children, and she also would not hesitate to extinguish a dozen young lives to protect everyone from an Endarkened threat. But her forces are better-equipped to handle something like this than you are, at least for now, until the Order can find its feet. The three of you know this, but still, Shery looks like she's going to be sick. Tallys swallows, hard enough that it looks like it hurts, before coming forward very slowly and laying a hand on your shoulder. "You did the right thing," she tells you—but in the reflection of her doubtful eyes, your own look just as haunted. You're forced to turn away, and for the rest of the night, you're alone, staring up at the ceiling with only the steady pattering of returning rain to accompany you. <<include "bladereturns">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "tallysend2">><<set $troublestatus to "He's angry with you at the moment, but he'll get over it.">><<set $tallysstatus to "She feels grateful and closer to you than before.">><</link>></center>

That night, Trouble returns to the Shepherds' compound soaked through to the bone. He's angry, and he doesn't want to speak to you. "I couldn't find them," is all he says. Then he storms to his room and slams the door. Tallys flinches at the sound, but when she looks at you, her face is as cool and composed as ever. "I think I'll go to bed," she says softly, looking down at the ground. Then she looks up again and smiles at you. It's a sweet and sincere smile, like moonlight peeking through pale clouds. "…Thank you, for following me tonight. I'll never forget it, <<c firstname>>." Although you failed to help Trouble in his quest to catch the Equalists, you feel as if your bond with Tallys has grown stronger. <<include "bladereturns">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "bladereturns2">><</link>></center>

<<if $blaphemeldead is true and $godspeaker lt 7>> You fall into your bed like you're never going to leave it, and you sleep… <br><br> …and you sleep… <br><br> …and you sleep. <br><br> You wake up on and off to drink from the pitcher of water by your bed, but you're always too groggy and heavy-headed to stay conscious for more than a few minutes. It's almost as if you have a fever—from mucking around in all of that rain, no doubt—but after three straight days of sleeping, you begin to feel a bit alarmed, even as the clutches of dreamless slumber fail to loosen its hold on you. <br><br> Finally, on the fourth day, you manage to sit up. You feel… <i>rested</i>, but there's a part of you that feels a bit different. Changed, or maybe more hollow. <br><br> You tell yourself you're simply very hungry, and rouse yourself from bed to go outside. The others are overjoyed to see you. <br><br> <</if>> <<if $troublequalist is true and $equalistscompoundintact is true>> Days later, you hear from Trouble, a bit bitterly, that the Inquisitors have begun their scouring of the Equalists' compound. They've uncovered a wealth of artifacts and tomes there in the catacombs, and have ferried most of it already to parts unknown. At least, you think, those dangerous spells and tools aren't lying around for just anyone to find. <br><br> You just hope the Autarchy will dispose of it all properly. <br><br> <</if>> <<if $troubleequalist is true and $equalistscompoundintact is false>> Days later, you hear from Trouble that he went with a few other recruits to oversee the final destruction of the Equalists' compound. There was some damage done to the catacombs and the adjacent graveyard, of course, which the Shepherds will have to pay for, but all evidence of the Equalists' activities—and the forbidden arcane tools they used—has been destroyed forever. Which is a good thing, considering you wouldn't want anyone else to pick up where they left off… or for the city to break out in riots if they ever discovered what lay buried with their dead all that time. <br><br> <</if>> <<if $childrenquarantined is true>> The children begin to settle in to the numerous rooms at the Shepherds' tower, with their parents and families coming to visit them immediately. It takes some time to explain exactly why they're not allowed to go home… but their guardians seem so thankful the children are safe that they decide to trust you… for now. <br><br> <</if>> <<if $childrenquarantined is true and $rikaalive is true>> Even the girl Rika wakes up, and apparently no worse for the wear; you see her in the morning being shakily embraced by her parents. They even brought their housecat, whose fur Rika dampens with her grateful tears. <br><br> <<if $rika is true>> Maybe, if he ever feels better, Hal might be able to come visit her, you muse. <br><br> <</if>> <</if>> <<if $childrendead is true>> Weeks later, Trouble informs you that the Inquisitors have had no luck locating the missing children. He says that he's setting up a small task force within the Shepherds dedicated to finding them, but the look in his eyes tells you that his hopes of success are slim. The trail has long gone cold. Still, it's a hope you both need—it helps to subsume the guilt. <br><br> At least, Trouble tells you, looking off with a strange light in his eyes, the whole operation has given him a measure of closure he never knew he needed. And he wouldn't have gotten that closure if you hadn't stormed the hideout. Although he regrets not being able to save the children in time, he doesn't regret going after the Equalists and destroying them with his own hands. <br><br> "That's one demon I can lay to rest," he says with a sigh. Then he smiles slightly at you. "Thanks for reminding me why I took on this job, <<c firstname>>. Whatever happens, I've got to believe we did good." He pauses, nods to himself. Looks away again. "Yeah. We did good." <br><br> <<else>><<goto 'bladereturns3'>> <</if>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Some Time Later...</span></div></div>' "bladereturns3">><</link>></center>

Eventually, Trouble and Tallys reconcile and agree to let bygones be bygones. You don't witness the conversation yourself, but you notice that Tallys has thawed around Trouble, slightly at first and then completely within a few days, and soon enough the blond sniper is all smiles around her again. When you comment on the change, Shery, who was away on a business trip across the city, only sighs a little and shakes her head. "It's always like that with them," she tells you in a rare moment of honesty. "They're exact opposites. Vice-Commander Trouble's hot-headed, and Tallys is cool and composed… he gets too invested, she seems too aloof. When the Commander's gone, they fight like cats and dogs…" She sighs again. "I'm just glad you were there this time around. We need someone like you to keep them in check." Days later, Blade comes home, his clothes stained and bloodied. All the Shepherds who went with him also return alive and well. He's not back for more than an hour before you're summoned to his office. "I heard about what happened," he says, sitting behind his desk. He looks tired, but his gaze is as keen and cool as ever. "From Tallys and Trouble both. Now I'd like to hear it from you." He listens silently as you recount their argument and what ensued afterward. When you finish your story, he says, "You were put in a difficult position." He doesn't apologize for it, but he does comment, "You did well with the circumstances that were given to you." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Aw, thanks, chief."' 'bladereturns4'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Oh, I didn\'t do much..."' 'bladereturns4'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Hopefully it doesn\'t happen again any time soon."' 'bladereturns4'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Blade's lips quirk slightly, but the expression soon fades as he sits back in his chair and looks around at his office: a sparse and spartan space with almost no decoration. There's only his austere desk (neatly organized), a few chairs, a threadbare rug by the fireplace, some maps and weapons on the walls, and a medium-sized dark-wooded chest in the corner. It doesn't seem like he spends a lot of time here. "I'm sure you're starting to recognize the flaws in our system," Blade says finally. "We have around thirty fighters in the Order, and there's only Trouble, Tallys, and myself to lead them all as captains. Our problems are only going to grow the more our numbers increase." He pauses. "As it stands, we need to divide the troops into squads soon, now that everyone has been reasonably trained and acclimated. But who will lead each squad?" He makes a sharp, cutting gesture with his hand. "Trouble is popular with the recruits, but loses his head frequently and runs headlong into… bad decisions, with no regard for the greater picture or long-term strategy. Tallys is viewed as callous and unapproachable by the others, meaning her leadership qualities are weak, but she can make tough choices using logic instead of emotions… most of the time." He pauses again, and the ensuing silence is pregnant with expectation. Finally he continues, watching you in an assessing way: "Even I have my faults. And when I'm away, we need someone who can keep things in balance. Someone I can trust to make the right calls." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Who do you have in mind?"' 'bladereturns5'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"It sounds like you\'re talking about me."' 'bladereturns5'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Wait expectantly and say nothing.' 'bladereturns5'>><</link>></li> </ul>

"I am talking about you," Blade says flatly. "I'd like to make you a captain alongside the three of us." For a moment you just sit there, blinking. You know the Order is struggling to get off its feet as Endarkened attacks across the Continent increase. But it's still surprising that you'd be offered so much power—and responsibility—within weeks of your arrival. Either you've made a very good impression, or the Shepherds are more desperate than they want to let on. Blade takes advantage of the silence to continue: "It won't come with a salary increase or greater privileges, and really only more responsibility, but we need more trustworthy leaders around here. Someone whom I can rely on. You'll have more command over the recruits, and if Trouble, Tallys, and I are away—or dead—you'll be in charge of the entire Order as acting commander. You'll participate in more of the decisions around here and attend our meetings to help decide the future of the Shepherds. And you'll keep Trouble and Tallys in equilibrium when I'm not around, as you did this time." He looks at your face and seems to remember that he's not ordering you, but making a request. "I'll understand if you decide against it." <ul class="choices"> <<if $troubleequalist is true and ($cainesafe is true or $bothsafe is true)>><li><<link '"I\'ll do it, but I\'d like a favor. I\'d like to take in Caine Tavadon as a recruit."' 'illdoitbutcaine'>><<setblade +3>><<setcompassionate +5>><<setloyal +5>><<set $rank to "Captain">><<set $bladestatus to "He's beginning to entrust you with more power.">><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link '"I\'ll do it, but I\'ll take a bonus now instead of a raise."' 'illdoitbutbonusinstead'>><<set $rank to "Captain">><<set $bladestatus to "He's beginning to entrust you with more power.">><<setcunning +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"It would be an honor. Thank you, Blade."' 'itwouldbeanhonorblade'>><<set $rank to "Captain">><<setblade +3>><<set $bladestatus to "He's beginning to entrust you with more power.">><<if $gender is "female">><<set $bladeromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'m not interested."' 'imnotinterestedblade'>><<setblade -10>><<set $bladestatus to "He's disappointed that you're not interested in becoming a captain.">><</link>></li> </ul>

Blade arches a brow. "Caine Tavadon?" "A Norm boy," you explain. "A wool merchant's apprentice—my friend. We came to Haven together, and I worry about him. So much turmoil is going on in the city: political uprisings, Endarkened attacks, children disappearing. I'd feel better if I could keep an eye on him here." You pause, weighing whether or not to say this, before adding: "He's also a devout friend of the Shepherds. I think he'd be overjoyed to join." (Overjoyed is an understatement, actually; you rather worry Caine might have a conniption when he finds out.) Blade ponders it a moment. "Can he fight?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"A little. He\'d be eager to learn."' 'illdoitbutcaine2'>><<set $cainejoin to true>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"He\'s twelve."' 'illdoitbutcaine2'>><<set $cainejoin to true>><</link>></li> </ul>

<<nobr>><<achieve "achieve_caine">><<notify_achievement "Raising Caine" "Got Caine an apprenticeship with the Shepherds.">><</nobr>>Blade's dark, perspicacious eyes scrutinize you for a moment, as if trying to discern your deeper motives. Suddenly he rises smoothly to his feet and extends a strong, slim-fingered hand towards you. When you grasp it, you notice his knuckles are covered in feathery white scars. "It's a deal, Captain," Blade says formally. "Caine Tavadon will join the Shepherds.<<nobr>><<if $childrenquarantined is true>> For the time being, he can help look after the children you rescued from the Equalists. At least until things are settled." <<else>> He can be Shery's apprentice and help her with whatever she needs in running the Order." <</if>><</nobr>> You nod, not bothering to keep the smile off your face. "Thank you, Blade. I'll let him know." As you leave the office, you swear you can hear a small boy somewhere in the city shrieking to the heavens with joy. <<include "autarchsletter">>

Blade ponders this for a moment, his face impassive, before he says, "I can do fifty deucalions." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Done."' 'donebonus'>><<setgold +50>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"How about sixty?"' 'howaboutsixty'>><<if $charisma gte 30>><<setgold +60>><<else>><<setgold +50>><</if>><</link>></li> </ul>

Blade extends a strong, slim-fingered hand towards you; you notice that his knuckles are covered in feathery white scars. "Do we have a deal, Captain?" You grin and clasp his hand. "We have a deal." <<include "autarchsletter">>

<<nobr>><<if $charisma gte 30>> Blade looks slightly disgruntled, but he says grudgingly, "…All right." He extends a strong, slim-fingered hand towards you. "Do we have a deal, Captain?" <br><br> You grin and clasp his hand. "We have a deal." <br> <<include "autarchsletter">> <<else>> Blade gives you a flat and stony look. "Fifty," he reiterates. He's not going to budge on this. <br><br> Well, it was worth a try. "Fifty," you agree reluctantly. <br><br> He extends a strong, slim-fingered hand towards you. "Then, Captain, do we have a deal?" <br><br> You clasp his hand. "We have a deal." <br> <<include "autarchsletter">> <</if>><</nobr>>

"I'll do my best," you add, smiling at him. To your surprise, he smiles back. "I'm… grateful," he says, looking back at you. For a second you swear his features soften, ever so slightly. He looks genuinely <i>glad</i>. Then he's extending a strong, slim-fingered hand towards you; you notice that his knuckles are covered in pale, feathery white scars. "Welcome aboard, Captain," he says with his faint smile. You grin and clasp his hand. "Happy to be here… Commander." <<include "autarchsletter">>

Blade frowns, though he doesn't seem angry. "That's a shame," is all he says, turning away. He lapses into silent thought for a moment, then glances up at you. "You're dismissed." The heavy oaken door slams shut behind you as you leave, blasting your body with a cold gust of air. It's almost as if a ghost was standing directly behind you, and—uneasy—you glance back over your shoulder at the closed door of the silent office. Of course, no one else is there. <<include "autarchsletter">>

<<nobr>><<if $cainejoin is true>> <br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cainejoinif">><<set $cainestatus to "He\'s so excited to be joining the Order! He loves you so much.">><</link>></center> <<else>> <<include "autarchsletter2">> <</if>><</nobr>>

The next few days are a procession of getting Caine moved into the Order. As you'd predicted, he's over the moon at the news, jumping and hollering and running around so much that you can barely get him to listen to more than one sentence at a time. He promptly asks for leave from his master, the wool merchant Zatani Zircei (who tearfully informs you that he'd be happy to make the Shepherds their uniforms at a discount as he says goodbye to Caine). <<if $troubleequalist is true>> Caine also tells you that Hal seems to be recovering, and that he'd like to visit when he's feeling up to it. You tell him this shouldn't be a problem, and he beams. <</if>> He moves into a room next to the buttery, settling in immediately and <<if $childrenquarantined>> taking charge of the children, who take to him like awed siblings to an older brother. <<else>> becoming Shery's assistant, enthusiastically helping her with all of the tasks a quartermaster has to deal with. <</if>> Other than for work, he barely leaves your side—and for those first few days, life is bright and warm and blissful. <<include "autarchsletter2">>

<br><center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "autarchsletter3">><</link>></center>

By the end of the week, a letter comes to you sealed in an ostentatious gold folio, delivered by a silent and wall-eyed courier. For a moment your curiosity is piqued, but then you catch the look on Shery's face as she sits at the breakfast table across from you. All the blood has drained from her cheeks, and she looks like she's about to faint. "What?" you ask her as the courier takes xer leave. Shery points at the stamp of the all-seeing eye on the back of the gold envelope. "That's the seal of the Autarch," she whispers. <<nobr>> <<if $cainejoin is true>> <br><br> Pausing in his quest to shovel down as many eggs as possible, Caine cranes his neck over your arm and gawks. "<i>Whoa</i>! You got a letter from the <i>Autarch</i>?" <br><br> At this, everyone in the refectory begins to murmur. <br><br> <<else>> <br><br> <</if>><</nobr>> A splash of cold dread runs down your spine as you carefully turn over the envelope and unseal the flap, feeling like you're handling an explosive device. You unfold the heavy, cream-colored parchment inside and begin to read the neat, gold-inked script: <br><br> <<nobr>> <<if $troubleequalist is true>> <<set $loadPassage to Story.get("goodletterautarch").text;>><<letter_holder "formal" $loadPassage>><center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "token2">><<setgold +100>><<if $childrenquarantined is true>><<set $shepherdgold += 500>><</if>><</link>></center> <<elseif $tallysequalist is true>> <<set $loadPassage to Story.get("badletterautarch").text;>><<letter_holder "formal" $loadPassage>> <<if $inquisitors is true>>There's no signature, but there's no doubt in your mind that this either came from the Office of the Head Inquisitor or from the Autarch herself. You fold the parchment up slowly, and Shery, watching your face anxiously, whispers: "It's not good?" <br><br> It's at this exact moment that Tallys approaches, bearing a simple plate of toast and jam. "What's not good?" she asks. <br><br> Then she spots the envelope with the Autarch's seal in your hand, and all the blood drains from her face. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"It\'s all right. There\'s no need to panic."' 'itsallrighttherenoneedtopanic'>><<setcourage +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Yeah... I\'m... fucked."' 'yeahimfucked'>><<setcourage -1>><</link>></li> </ul> <<else>> That's all the simple script says, but for whatever reason, the words seem stark and ominous: almost like a threat rather than a greeting. You tuck the letter away, into your breast pocket, but the ink unfurls in your head long after everyone else has forgotten about it. <br><br> Is this just a polite letter, a political bluff… or have you somehow played right into the Autarch's hands? <br><br> <<include "reallytheend">> <</if>> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<notify_gold "+100 Gold">> <<if $cainejoin is true>> Beside you, Caine squawks. "I can't believe the Autarch <i>praised</i> you, <<c firstname>>!" His gaze widens when it falls upon the elegant, white leather pouch that the courier so politely placed near your breakfast plate. "And God's teeth—that's a <i>lot</i> of gold!" <<else>> Shery squeaks. "I can't believe… the Autarch… actually wrote you a letter!" She stares at the elegant, white leather pouch that the courier so politely placed near your breakfast plate. "That's so much gold!" <</if>> <br><br> "I know." You turn the parchment over, but the backside is blank. Did the Autarch really deign to send you a written note of thanks, of all things? And rewarded you with money? <<if $troublehate is false>> <br><br> Trouble strolls up then, holding a tray heaped high with hot and buttered breakfast rolls. "What's all the fuss?" he asks. <br><br> You explain the message you received from the Autarch, and he makes an indignant face. "What the Hael? I didn't get kak!" <br><br> Blade sits down at your table now, looking at him impassively. "That's because the Autarchy hates your guts," he says flatly. From the slight drawl in his voice, though, you can tell he's simply teasing Trouble. "An insurgent Norm who frequently advocates for equality with the Diminished? You're hardly in their good graces." <br><br> Trouble looks like he wants to stamp his foot. "But $firstname <i>is</i> Diminished!" <br><br> "But everyone likes $them better than you." <br><br> "Oi, I'll kill you—" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"We can split the money, Trouble."' 'wecansplitthemoneytrouble'>><<setcompassionate +5>><<settrouble +1>><<setblade +1>><<setshery +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"What can I say? I\'m just very likeable."' 'whatcanisaylikeable'>><<setblade +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Let them bicker. You\'re too busy counting your shiny new coin.' 'afterafewmoremomentspuzzle'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li> </ul> <<else>> <<include "token3">> <</if>>

His face splits in a grin, argument instantly forgotten. "'S alright, <<c firstname>>," he says, clapping you affectionately on the shoulder. "You keep it. You earned the Hael out of it, that's for sure." You smile at him. "Thanks." <<include "afterafewmoremomentspuzzle">>

Blade smirks as Trouble unleashes a veritable storm of indignant protests. <<include "afterafewmoremomentspuzzle">>

After a few more moments, you turn back to the letter, utterly puzzled. <<include "token3">>

"What do you think she means when she says she'd like to meet me when the 'eye of the One-God is not so scorching'?" "It's a fancy way of saying it's too hot to go outside," Shery explains. She looks around furtively before lowering her voice and practically whispering: "But the reality of it is, the Autarch has been ill for quite some time. She's likely just too sick to see you, though the Sun Court will never acknowledge that." You nod. You've heard rumors swirling about the Autarch's sickness for a while: even Ebert the meat merchant mentioned it to you when you were still guarding Prihine. "How should I take this very unnecessary gesture?" you ask her. You hadn't thought the Autarch—ruler of the iron-fisted Autarchy, mouth of God and overall inheritor of a monstrous dynasty—would be so… generous. Or normal-sounding. Or even… kind. Blade glances over as he rises from his seat at the end of the table, taking his cleaned plate as he goes; he often eats so quickly you rarely ever see how the food reaches his mouth. "Take it as a good sign," he tells you as he passes. "You've fallen into the Autarch's good graces." Shery's spectacles flash at you from across the table. "Or take it as a sign to be careful," she murmurs, too low for anyone else to hear. "That also means the Autarchy is more aware of you, more likely to notice any slip-ups. And as they always say…" She looks at you meaningfully. "The eyes of the Sun Court are everywhere." <<include "reallytheend">>

"It's just a warning," you tell her. "They're just telling me not to cause trouble with the Inquisitors anymore. No one's being dragged away or executed." Tallys sits down shakily. "Still, though… They heard about what happened at the <i>Thirteenth Hour</i>?" In her panic it seems she's forgotten the Elvish conventions of avoiding direct questions. You glance back at the letter. "It seems so." Tallys passes a hand over her face. Shery fidgets in her seat and murmurs, "You have to be careful, <<c firstname>>. Maybe you should stay close to headquarters for a while?" You stare at her. "Whatever for?" The quartermaster bites her lip. "They sent this letter to tell you that they're watching," she tells you. She steals a glance at Tallys, who looks positively haunted. "Just… be careful, please. You haven't been in Haven long enough to know this, but the eyes of the Sun Court are everywhere. If you blind yourself to them… well… what may happen to you..." She trails off, her tone loaded with meaning. "Let's just say that being dragged to Hael seems merciful in comparison." <<include "reallytheend">>

Tallys's eyes go wide, like a prey animal standing stricken before a predator. Her lips part slightly, and you can read the fear in her airless voice when she says, "They heard about what happened at the <i>Thirteenth Hour</i>?" In her panic it seems she's forgotten the Elvish conventions of avoiding direct questions. "It seems so." She sits down shakily on the bench across from you, exhaling forcefully and dragging a hand over her face. <<if $cainejoin is true>> Caine, beside you, watches with wide and startled eyes as Tallys struggles to collect herself. <</if>> When she finally looks up, she says seriously, "You need to stay close to headquarters from now on. And you have to be very, very careful." You nod. It seems like a good course of action—and you can't say you're feeling particularly brave with how fearful both Tallys and Shery look. The latter looks like she's seen a ghost, and the former gazes at you with her sad green eyes. The expression on her face is that of someone mourning a close friend. Finally, Tallys blows out a breath. "I'm sorry, <<c firstname>>," she says slowly. "You're being wrongfully targeted for doing a good deed… but wrongful or not, you <i>are</i> being targeted." She looks up at you, and her eyes are suddenly caustic and hard as glass. "Consider this a warning shot before a battle; the pistol that starts the race. They sent this as a warning to you—a warning that they're watching, scrutinizing you for any more slip-ups or mistakes. Any excuse to bring you in." She stops, looking distraught, and now Shery takes up the warning, watching you with her stricken pale blue eyes. "You haven't been in Haven long enough to know this, <<c firstname>>," she murmurs, "but… the eyes of the Sun Court are everywhere. There's no escaping them, and even the safest-seeming spaces have been infiltrated by their spies." She bites her lip. "And right now, according to this letter… you have to be very, very careful. Their gaze is fixed utterly on you." <<include "reallytheend">>

<<unset $equalistsurvivor>> <<unset $turn>> <<unset $play>> <<unset $bet>> <<unset $hairdisplay>> <<unset $color>> <<unset $fuck>> <<unset $marry>> <<unset $kill>> <<unset $rika>> <<unset $rika1>> <<unset $rika2>> <<unset $ratvisit>> <<unset $ratscondition>> <<unset $visithouse>> <<unset $rattry>> <<unset $equ>> <<unset $visitingdayofffirsttime>> <<page_break "End Chapter" "endchapter1screen">>

<div class="box"><span class="endchaptersummary"> <center><span class="heading">Chapter Summary</span></center> <br> <span class="bulleticon"><span class="fas fa-chevron-right"></span></span>&emsp;<<if $troubleequalist is true>>You chose to accompany Trouble on his mission to find the missing children and the Equalists. <<elseif $tallysequalist is true>> You chose to accompany Tallys to a tavern, where you discovered trouble brewing all on its own. <</if>> <<if $troubleequalist is true>> <br><br><span class="bulleticon"><span class="fas fa-chevron-right"></span></span>&emsp; <<if $childrensafe is true>> You managed to persuade Trouble to infiltrate the Equalist compound through stealth, recovering the children safely. You headed off to deal with the Equalists while Trouble got the children out, ultimately encountering their sponsor in the form of an ancient demon named Blaphemel. <<elseif $childrendead is true>> You managed to storm the Equalist compound and slaughter all of the cultists you could find inside, but you were not able to locate the children they kidnapped. <</if>> <</if>> <<if $childrensafe is true and $blaphemeldead is true>> <br><br><span class="bulleticon"><span class="fas fa-chevron-right"></span></span>&emsp; You completely obliterated Blaphemel's existence from this realm or any other. <<if $rikaalive is true>> You also managed to save the soul of the little girl, Rika, extracting her from the demon's clutches unharmed. <</if>><</if>> <<if $troubleequalist is true and $childrensafe is true>> <br><br><span class="bulleticon"><span class="fas fa-chevron-right"></span></span>&emsp; You decided to <<if $childrenquarantined is true>> take the children back to the Shepherds' compound to be quarantined until they could be determined to be clear of demonic possession. <<elseif $childrenhome is true>> allow the children to go back home to their families, deciding they'd already been through enough. <<elseif $childreninquisitors is true>> turn the children in to the Inquisitors for the safety of the city, not wanting to risk a demonic outbreak. <<if $troublehate is true>> Trouble has made it clear that he won't forgive you for that. <</if>> <</if>> <</if>> <<if $troubleequalist is true>> <br><br><span class="bulleticon"><span class="fas fa-chevron-right"></span></span>&emsp; <<if $equalistscompoundintact is true>> The Equalists' compound was left intact, and whatever magical contraband they stored inside was seized by the authorities. <<else>> The Equalists' compound was destroyed, forever ridding the world of whatever magical contraband had been stored inside. <</if>> <<if $darktome is true>> You did, however, manage to pilfer a mysterious arcane tome from their laboratory when no one was looking. <</if>> <</if>> <<if $tallysequalist is true>> <br><br><span class="bulleticon"><span class="fas fa-chevron-right"></span></span>&emsp; <<if $inquisitors is true>> You interceded when a pair of Inquisitors began harassing the owner of the tavern. <<if $inquisitorswin is true>> You even managed to impress the public by passing their cruel test. <</if>> <<if $coinscar is true>> The encounter did, however, leave you with a coin-shaped scar on your palm. <</if>> <<else>> You chose not to draw attention to yourself when a pair of Inquisitors began harassing the local tavern owner, much to Tallys's relief. <</if>> <</if>> <<if $tallysequalist is true>> <br><br><span class="bulleticon"><span class="fas fa-chevron-right"></span></span>&emsp; The mysterious stranger known as Croelle ultimately intervened on your behalf, putting a stop to the Inquisitors. They seemed to fear him, for some reason. <</if>> <<if $rank is "Captain">> <br><br><span class="bulleticon"><span class="fas fa-chevron-right"></span></span>&emsp; For your actions, Blade promoted you to the rank of Captain. <<if $cainejoin is true>> As one of the conditions of your promotion, you asked for Caine Tavadon to become an apprentice with the Shepherds. <</if>> <</if>> </span><span class="endchaptersummary2"></span></div> <br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "endchapter1levelup">><<set $part to 2>><<set $health to 100>><<set $gold += 100>><<if $halfname is "recruit">><<set $halfname to $firstname>><</if>><</link>></center>

<div class="box"><span class="column-icon"><span class="endchaptericon"><i class="fas fa-coins"></i></span></span><span class="column-2"><span class="heading">Gold</span><br>You gained 100 deucalions as part of your Shepherd's pay.</span></div> <div class="box"><span class="column-icon"><span class="endchaptericon"><i class="fas fa-heart"></i></span></span><span class="column-2"><span class="heading">Relationships</span><br>The statuses on your <span class="entrylink">[[relationships|Relationships]]</span> page has changed.</span></div> <div class="box"><span class="column-icon"><span class="endchaptericon"><i class="fas fa-first-aid"></i></span></span><span class="column-2"><span class="heading">Health</span><br>Your health has been fully restored.</span></div> <<page_break "Proceed to Next Chapter" "startchapter2">>

<i>6 Camoa</i> <i>The experiments have begun for our first six subjects. Almost immediately, one expired. The rest are still alive, but our attempts to bind magical energy to them—in principle, the same practice that allows Binders to store magic in their weapons and enchanted objects—have failed.</i> <i>Sennez is very, very displeased by our early failure, despite his encouraging speech not one sennight ago. He has instructed me to find a peddler of flesh to find more children for us. I will begin the search tomorrow.</i>

<i>8 Camoa</i> <i>I have found a merchant who can bring us what we need.</i> <i>Today, Yugao and I fought bitterly. He blames the fragility of the subjects on their youth—if we procured adults, he argues, they would be much hardier and more able to withstand the harsh energies we draw into their bodies.</i> <i>He is a fool, of course. It must be children. Their malleability makes them the only suitable recipients for this power: in the same way that it is easier for the young to learn a new language than the old, their half-formed bodies and minds have not been solidified by adulthood and everyday life. If anyone can be elevated—if anyone can <i>learn</i> the gift of magic, once it is given—it is them, and them alone.</i>

<i>15 Camoa</i> <i>Our experiments continue to fail.</i> <i>Before long, we will run into the same problem the first group ran into: so many children will go missing that we will be discovered.</i> <i>I warned Sennez as much, and the next day he went out and returned with a mysterious object wrapped in his hands. I know not what it is—it seemed black and orb-like—but I sense a powerful miasma rising from it. He claims it will grant us the power we need to succeed.</i>

<i>20 Camoa</i> <i>I am losing track of the days.</i> <i>There is no light down here, and I have not seen the sun since I went out to procure our merchant. And I can barely sleep, for I feel a dark presence haunting my dreams. Lurking in the shadows in the corner of my eyes.</i> <i>Is it guilt that haunts me? Doubt—the great enemy of progress, as Sennez says?</i> <i>Or something else?</i>

<i>5 Kthili</i> <i>Whatever object Sennez procured, it is working.</i> <i>Our first success came today! A girl by the name of Rika woke up with the ability to conjure fire. She is about eleven years of age, stocky and short of build, and claimed previously to come from Norm parents. Perhaps it is her pure blood that makes her suitable to receive the gift?</i> <i>Her sclera are black as pitch now, but this is hardly different from our previous subjects, who had gold pigmentation appear in their irises.</i> <i>She killed Kit where he stood, but Sennez—with the help of that strange black orb—was able to get her under control. She is as docile as a cat now.</i> <i>I do wonder what that thing is: the orb that Sennez claims grants him great power. When I am in the operating room alone with it—for he has placed it on a high table, as if to allow it to keep watch over our procedures—I sometimes think I can hear it whispering, and once I caught Yugao talking to it. He doesn't sleep anymore, Yugao, and only paces our room over and over, muttering things to himself.</i> <i>Earlier tonight (or is it daytime? I'm never sure anymore), I awoke to find him sitting on my chest, eyes glittering like the red pupils of a rat's. He said nothing, and I pushed him off.</i> <i>I should be happy about our success—tomorrow we will see what else Rika can do—but instead I feel only a sense of unease.</i>

<span class="crazy"><center>Blaphemel Blaphemel Blaphemel Blaphemel</center></span>

<i>Master gives us power. When He is near I feel so strong, so safe. He gives us the power to make our dreams come true. He promises us everything.</i>

<i>Sometimes he sings to us. I don't understand the words, but it's a song that I heard once in the womb, before I tore my way out to find it.</i>

<i>Trea doesn't understand. Xe doesn't see him. Our infernal prince, our lord and master. I'll make xer see.</i>

<i>So the orb is a connection to Blaphemel. Sennez has sold something—perhaps his soul—to the demon in order to augment his magical power. And in exchange, the demon helps us with our experiments… But for what purpose?</i>

<i>The fusion is seamless... It is a thing of beauty, to see another soul inhabit a child's body, shunting the native spirit aside for control. And with the demon's help, what was once a helpless runt becomes a living god, a powerful magical being able to strike fear into the Autarchy…</i>

<i>...We have only managed to convert one... Rika, her name is. The other children are too weak, and the possession does not seem to take. We will have to get rid of them soon and find others...</i>

<i>The demon inside Rika is only a servant, a lesser limb of Blaphemel. It was being housed in the little girl's body as a sort of test, a way to see if it was safe for the demon to survive the transfer. But Rika is the only one out of all the children who worked. Sennez says we will give her Blaphemel to become his vessel tonight…</i> <br>

<i>$firstname,</i> <i>You have my thanks. I will never forget what you've done for me. The gratitude of a Minister's wife has far reach within the Autarchy. If you ever need my aid, tell me at once.</i> <span class="prihinesignature">Prihine Ushala</span> <i>Lady Prihine Ushala</i> <i>Wife of Turti Ushala, Minister of Trade</i>

<i>$firstname,</i> <i>You have my thanks. I will never forget what you did for me and the boy. The gratitude of a Minister's wife has far reach within the Autarchy. If you ever need my aid, tell me at once.</i> <span class="prihinesignature">Prihine Ushala</span> <i>Lady Prihine Ushala</i> <i>Wife of Turti Ushala, Minister of Trade</i>

<<nobr>> <<if settings.music is true>><<audio ":playing" fadeout>><<audio "theme" volume 0.1 play>><</if>> <<fadein 10s>> <<fadeout 5s 8s>><div class="chapterlogo"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/logos/chaptercroplogo.png" alt="Shepherds of Haven"><center><span class="chapterglow">Chapter Two</span></center></div><</fadeout>> <</fadein>><</nobr>> <<timed 13s>><<goto "chapter2begin">><</timed>><span class="next">[[Next|chapter2begin]]</span>

<<set $zilka to false, $courtesanknow to false>><<if $mainweapon is "bow">><<set $fire to "fire", $fire2 to "shoot", $fire3 to "reload">><<elseif $mainweapon is "sword">><<set $mainweapon2 to "blade", $fire to "stab", $fire2 to "slash", $fire3 to "hack">><<elseif $mainweapon is "dagger">><<set $mainweapon2 to "knife", $fire to "stab", $fire2 to "slash", $fire3 to "hack">><<elseif $mainweapon is "gun">><<set $fire to "fire", $fire2 to "shoot", $fire3 to "reload">><</if>> <<if $troublehate is false>><<run Dialog.setup("Trouble's Birthday"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("troublebirthdayconfirm").processText()); Dialog.open();>><</if>> <span class="splash">Several Weeks Later</span><span class="splashblur"></span> Time passes. Summer turns to early autumn, though the days remain unusually warm. Life in Haven goes on as usual; you continue to patrol, eat, sleep, train. Shery twists her ankle going down the stairs one day, but recovers after Tallys gives her a gift of herbal tea. A fire erupts in a cafe in Ashtown—started by a demon, an arsonist, or natural causes, no one knows for sure—but is quickly put out. And the Autarch lifts the nightly curfew she once imposed on citizens to keep them safe from Endarkened. It becomes clear that the Shepherds' presence has made life in the city just a little safer; even the Shepherds' strongest naysayers are reluctantly forced to acknowledge that fact. <br><br> In fact, demon attacks and Endarkened activity have seemingly halted altogether in Haven. No one knows why or how, but they also know better than to question the change and invite bad luck. For a time, the turning of the seasons ushers a rare mood of peace and gratitude into the city. Demons are nowhere to be found for the moment, and relations between the Diminished and the Norms remain quiet. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "chapterbegins2">><</link>></center>

It's Trouble's birthday today. Would you like to spend time with him? <center><<button 'Yes'>><<settrouble +3>><<goto "troublebirthday">><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>> <<button 'No'>><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>></center>

Trouble grins as you approach him. "Hey. We're all going out for dinner later to my favorite tavern—even Blade! On threat of strangulation, of course." You spend a little time with him doing whatever he wants, which mostly consists of sneaking into the kitchens for an illicit snack and playing in the alleyway with a stray dog. Trouble claims he's never made a big fuss about his birthday: he's not even sure he's got the date right, since his mother died when he was very young. "It's nothing," he says, waving off your sympathetic look. "I seem like a summer guy, right? So I figure my birthday's in summer." It's true: golden-haired and summer-skinned, Trouble looks like this birthday suits him very well. Eventually you reach the point where it would be a good time to give him a gift. Will you give him something? <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Yes.' 'troublegift'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'No.' 'troublebdayfinish'>><</link>></li> </ul>

You'll give him… <ul class="choices"> <<if $tallysgift is true>><li><<link 'The potted plant. ' 'thepottedplantbday'>><<settrouble +1>><<set $tallysgift to false>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $halekgift is true>><li><<link 'The cookbook.' 'cookbookbday'>><<settrouble +1>><<set $halekgift to false>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $redgift is true>><li><<link 'The tome about other worlds.' 'tomeworldbday'>><<set $redgift to false>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $aylagift is true>><li><<link 'The map of Blest.' 'mapofblestgift'>><<set $aylagift to false>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $rielgift is true>><li><<link 'The toolset.' 'toolsetbday'>><<set $rielgift to false>><<settrouble +3>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $troublegift is true>><li><<link 'The model of the airship.' 'airshipmodelbday'>><<settrouble +10>><<set $troublegift to false>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $bladegift is true>><li><<link 'The strange dagger.' 'strangedaggerbday'>><<set $bladegift to false>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $sherygift is true>><li><<link 'The heartshaped necklace.' 'heartnecklacebday'>><<settrouble -3>><<set $sherygift to false>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $brionygift is true>><li><<link 'The painting set.' 'paintingsetbday'>><<set $brionygift to false>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $chasegift is true>><li><<link 'The flashy scarf.' 'flashyscarfbday'>><<set $chasegift to false>><<settrouble +1>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $lavinetgift is true>><li><<link 'The ornate hairpin.' 'ornatehairpinbday'>><<set $lavinetgift to false>><<settrouble -3>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $falsegift is true>><li><<link 'The crystal orb.' 'crystalorbbday'>><<set $falsegift to false>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $flowergift is true>><li><<link 'The bouquet of flowers.' 'bouquetofflowersbday'>><<set $flowergift to false>><<settrouble +1>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $gold gte 1>><li><<link 'Some money.' 'goldbday'>><</link>></li><</if>> </ul>

Trouble smiles. "That's a cute little thing. Thank you, <<c halfname>>!" <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "troublebdayfinish">><</link>></center>

Trouble cocks his head. "Thanks for this. I don't cook much, so—it'll be good to learn new things." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "troublebdayfinish">><</link>></center>

Trouble cocks his head. "Thanks for this. This'll be an interesting read." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "troublebdayfinish">><</link>></center>

Trouble smiles briefly. "Thanks for this. My old one's all dogeared and stained, so this will be nice to have." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "troublebdayfinish">><</link>></center>

Trouble beams. "Thanks for this, <<c halfname>>; I really needed something like this!" He sweeps you off your feet in an easy hug. You smile. "Happy birthday, Trouble." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "troublebdayfinish">><</link>></center>

Trouble's face absolutely lights up; he looks delighted! "<<c halfname>>!" he exclaims. "You shouldn't have. This is <i>cool.</i>" He holds the little model up to the light, turning it this way and that, admiring it. Then he turns to you and crushes you in an easy, one-armed hug. "Thank you, <<c halfname>>," he murmurs in your ear. "I love it." You smile. "Happy birthday, Trouble." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "troublebdayfinish">><</link>></center>

Trouble cocks his head, admiring the weapon. "Nice," he says. "I'll try not to pull it on too many people in a fight." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "troublebdayfinish">><</link>></center>

Trouble makes a face. "Erm… thanks, <<c halfname>>," he says slowly. "I'll… put this to good use." It's clear that he's not a huge fan of the necklace. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "troublebdayfinish">><</link>></center>

Trouble cocks his head. "Never painted before," he comments. "Don't know how to. But maybe I'll paint something and give it to you. Thanks, <<c halfname>>." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "troublebdayfinish">><</link>></center>

Trouble smiles. "Very fashionable," he says, slinging the scarf haphazardly around his neck. "Very hoity-toity. Do I look like nobility?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Always."' 'flashyscarfbday2'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You look funny, actually."' 'flashyscarfbday2'>><</link>></li> </ul>

He laughs warmly. "Thanks, <<c halfname>>. I mean that." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "troublebdayfinish">><</link>></center>

Trouble stares. "My hair isn't long enough for this," he says finally. "But I'll—er—find a good way to put it to use." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "troublebdayfinish">><</link>></center>

Trouble cocks his head. "What's it do?" he asks you. When you tell him you don't know, he looks bemused. "Thanks, <<c halfname>>," he says, nonplussed. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "troublebdayfinish">><</link>></center>

Trouble smiles as he accepts the bouquet. "These are really nice," he says. He glances at you warmly. "Thanks, <<c halfname>>." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "troublebdayfinish">><</link>></center>

Trouble immediately puts out a hand to stop you, however. "I'm not taking your money, <<c halfname>>," he says with an easy grin. "You can buy me a drink later tonight if you want. Other than that, your friendship is worth more to me than your coin. Thanks, though." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "troublebdayfinish">><</link>></center>

You spent some time with Trouble on his birthday! <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "chapterbegins">><</link>></center>

Time passes. Summer turns to early autumn, though the days remain unusually warm. Life in Haven goes on as usual; you continue to patrol, eat, sleep, train. Shery twists her ankle going down the stairs one day, but recovers after Tallys gives her a gift of herbal tea. A fire erupts in a cafe in Ashtown—started by a demon, an arsonist, or natural causes, no one knows for sure—but is quickly put out. And the Autarch lifts the nightly curfew she once imposed on citizens to keep them safe from Endarkened. It becomes clear that the Shepherds' presence has made life in the city just a little safer; even the Shepherds' strongest naysayers are reluctantly forced to acknowledge that fact. In fact, demon attacks and Endarkened activity have seemingly halted altogether in Haven. No one knows why or how, but they also know better than to question the change and invite bad luck. For a time, the turning of the seasons ushers a rare mood of peace and gratitude into the city. Demons are nowhere to be found for the moment, and relations between the Diminished and the Norms remain quiet. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "chapterbegins2">><</link>></center>

With the change, of course, comes something else. You begin to notice on your daily patrols that some of Haven's civilians have fallen into a kind of stupor. You see many of them loitering on street corners and in alleyways, eyes glazed and stupid, empty smiles on their faces. Day by day, the number of these idlers seems to increase, and soon you find them slumped together on benches or sitting in the gutter, staring ahead blankly. They don't beg for money or bother any passerby: in fact, they don't seem to interact with anyone at all, content with merely sitting there and wasting their time away. You reach out inquisitively with your magic towards one or two, but no trace of enchantment or Endarkened corruption seems to have touched them. Instead, there is nothing but vast and seething emptiness. The others, too, notice the change, but it is with nothing more than passive curiosity. "Heard a new batch of refugees came in with the merchant 'vans," Trouble theorizes, shrugging. "Since they're all starting to arrive for the festival. Maybe the refugees couldn't find jobs, so they just sit around all day." "Maybe," you muse doubtfully. But not much more can be done about the matter. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "chapterbegins3">><</link>></center>

On one balmy day, Blade gives you another rare day off. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "dayoff">><<if settings.music is true>><<audio ":playing" fadeout>><</if>><</link>></center>

That night, just as you're drifting off to sleep, an alarm goes off in the Shepherds' compound. It's something you've never heard before. When there were demon attacks on the city or other urgent matters that needed your attention, you were always simply roused from your bed by Shery or one of the other recruits. You've never heard an alarm—this strange, piercing sound that seems to lash against your brain in searing red streaks. Magic, you think, gritting your teeth. One of the old wards going off. But what could it mean? Is there a fire? An assassin? You shove on your boots and run out of your room with your weapon in hand. Other recruits are doing the same; a few shouts over the alarm confirm that no one else knows what's going on. Instinctively, you head towards the compound's vestibule: presumably if someone (or something) set off a ward, the compound's only aboveground entrance would be the first place to check. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "dayoffover3">><</link>></center>

You find Trouble there, towering over another recruit in an absolute rage. The alarm stops abruptly, just in time for you to catch the tail-end of Trouble's bellowing. <i>"Bloody fool! Zib-kissing, kak-eating, muck-loving son of a sharmooti—"</i> Tallys and Shery arrive, too, the latter sleepy-eyed and frazzled, the former as coolly composed as ever. Then comes Blade, padding in with silent footfalls like some kind of night hunter, sword drawn and darkly-gleaming, and everyone goes abruptly quiet, including Trouble. You step up just as Blade looks at the cowering recruit at Trouble's feet and says, "What's toward?" Trouble looks down at the man and looks like what he wants to spit. "Tell them, Ben. Go on, you jackass." You finally recognize the man that Trouble has been verbally assaulting. It's Benir Roxak, another Mage who joined the Order just a few sennights ago. He's only nineteen, and a weaker Mage besides, but he's good at healing—you've seen him taking shifts in the Shepherds' infirmary. A quiet boy who keeps to himself. Why is Trouble so toweringly angry at him? Blade steps closer and turns over something next to Benir with his sword. A knapsack. The young Mage trembles as the edge of the sword draws near his neck, but remains silent; he watches with wide eyes as Blade sifts through his upturned pack, the contents of which are spilled all over the floor. Finally, the dark-haired Ket crouches and picks up a little square tin from the ground. He examines it for a moment, impassive, before holding it out to you. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "dayoffover4">><</link>></center>

You take the tin from his hand. Inside is something fine and dark, like soft black wood shavings or peat. The stuff smells sweet and floral at first, but you also notice something acrid underneath the scent—something that makes your eyes water. You pass the tin back to Blade and say, "I don't recognize it." "Nor do I," Blade says. He turns back to Benir. "Care to explain?" Benir's eyes dart around, seeking escape. When he doesn't find it, he looks away and mutters, "It's nothing. It's harmless." Blade is unmoved. "What is it?" "Can I have it back?" "No. What is it?" Benir's hands twitch on his thighs, but he says, calmly enough: "It's called Black Sun." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "dayoffover5">><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<if $newspaper is 2>> You frown: you've heard that name before… You read it in the newspaper! The drug that's been invading the streets! <br> Then your heart plummets into your gut. <i>No</i>. So Benir is a user of Black Sun? <<else>> The name means nothing to you, but a few of the other watching recruits stir and murmur amongst themselves. <</if>><</nobr>> Blade and Tallys don't seem to recognize the word, but Shery steps forward and says hesitantly, "I've heard of that. It's… it's a new drug that's appeared in Haven, these last few sennights. Some kind of soporific. It's supposed to be <i>very</i> addictive." She hesitates for a moment, twirling a long strand of hair around her finger until it frays, then adds, "It makes people go mad." "That's not true," Benir blurts from the ground. "Black Sun is a boon—a gift! It makes you feel stronger, more confident, less fearful—pain is replaced by pleasure, traumatic memories can be forgotten—" "You're an addict," Blade says, without rebuke. Only a slight frown tells you what he's really thinking. Shery cuts in, querulously: "Th-that's not what I've heard about Black Sun. A Healer here in Ashtown told me that it eats away at you—that, in time, you'll become a mindless shell. An abuser of Black Sun will become completely inert, unable to feel, think, experience, remember… They even forget how to eat or sleep, until they perish. That Healer's clinic is full of comatose Black Sun users." Benir's head snaps around to look at her, and now he looks like a cornered animal, crouching low, showing his teeth. His face has a look of scraped bone. You remember suddenly all of the "idlers" you've seen in the backalleys of Haven these last few sennights, and your stomach turns. Has Benir been one of them in his free time? "That's not true," he spits. "You don't know anything about it!" <<include "benir">>

<ul class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("howlongstuff")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"How long have you been using this stuff?" </div>' 'howlongstuff'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("whyareyoutakingit")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Why are you taking it?"</div>' 'whyareyoutakingit'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("whosoldyoublacksun")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Who sold you the Black Sun?"</div>' 'whosoldyoublacksun'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("areyouaddictedtoit")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Are you addicted to it?"</div>' 'areyouaddictedtoit'>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link 'It doesn\'t seem like you\'ll get much more out of him.' 'benircont'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Benir looks at you, wary. "Three days," he admits. "I only went out and took it at night, when everyone else was asleep." <<include "benir">>

Benir squirms a little; he still hasn't risen from his crouch. "The world is so miserable," he says finally. His eyes rove around the room, darting at shadows; his voice raises to a fever-pitch. "We risk our lives every day for people who hate us. Demons are returning. The Diminished suffer. The other day a little girl spat on me because her brother had been taken away—by Endarkened or Inquisitors, I don't know. She blamed me either way. And you're a Mage, you know the things we have to go through—can you blame me for wanting an escape?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"No, I can\'t blame you."' 'noicantblameyou'>><<setcompassionate +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"This is the world we live in. I prefer to face it head-on."' 'thisistheworldwelivein'>><<setcourage +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Remain silent.' 'remainsilentbenir'>><<setcharisma -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Benir laughs, a little crazily. "You see," he says. "I knew you would understand!" <<include "benir">>

Benir looks at you, jaw twitching. "Well, we can't all be as strong as you," he says. <<include "benir">>

Benir laughs, a little crazily. <<include "benir">>

Benir looks at you, and you think it's with hope in his eyes. "The Waxman," he tells you. "You want to try it? I know if you take some, you'll see what I mean—" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"No. I\'m not doing that."' 'noimnotdoingthat'>><<setblade +1>><<settallys +1>><<settrouble +1>><<setshery +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"It couldn\'t hurt to try..."' 'itcouldnthurttotry'>><<setblade -3>><<settallys -3>><<settrouble -3>><<setshery -3>><</link>></li> </ul>

Benir's mouth twists. "But then how can you know how good it is for you?" he asks softly. <<include "benir">>

Trouble's head swivels around to gawk at you. "Are you mad?" he demands. "Haven't you seen all of those ghouls in the streets? You want to become one of them?" You shrug. "I wouldn't get addicted." "It's not as if you'd have a choice," Tallys says, shaking her head. <<include "benir">>

Benir's mouth twitches, as if he's going to laugh. "No," he says, his voice pitched high. "Put it another way," you say. "If we were to take this away from you, would you go out immediately and buy more?" After a moment, reluctantly, Benir nods—though his mouth still moves with hidden laughter. "Would you sell your clothes for it, if you didn't have the money to pay? Your other possessions?" "Possessions mean nothing," Benir says, cryptically. "I'd rather be happy and poor than miserable and rich." "And Black Sun makes you happy?" He smiles at you, a little secret smile. "It makes <i>everyone</i> happy." <<include "benir">>

"Why did the ward go off?" you ask, more to the other Shepherds than to Benir, but he answers anyway. "Don't know," he says, sullen now. "This is the first time I've brought it back home." "Tell them what you told me," Trouble insists again, rounding on him. "Tell them what you meant to do with it." Benir covers his face with his hands. When he says nothing more, Trouble looks at you and growls, "He was going to feed it secretly to patients in the infirmary. Get them addicted without them knowing." "I only wanted to help!" Benir cries then. "It can ease your pain better than I ever could—don't you see I wanted to share it? That I was being <i>generous</i>? It can help you all!" "<i>That's</i> why the ward went off!" Shery gasps, finally realizing. "It detects those with ill intentions towards the inhabitants of the tower, so when Benir crossed the threshold… it caught him." Tallys frowns, watching the pitiable Mage rock back and forth on the ground. "But he thought he had <i>good</i> intentions," she notes. "How can the magic of this place know the difference?" "It hardly matters," Trouble butts in impatiently. "The question is, what are we going to do with him? He was going to <i>poison</i> us." "But he's not in his right mind," Shery says, her eyes large and sad. "It's the Black Sun that's making him do it." "Is it? Can we really trust him either way?" You all look at Blade, who seems deep in thought. You can't tell what he's thinking, but he seems conflicted: perhaps he feels torn between his responsibility for this recruit and his responsibility for the safety of the others. He looks up, sees you watching him, and says, "What would you suggest, <<c rank>>?" You think on it for a moment. It seems Blade is making good on his decision to rely on you for input more: this could be the one of many choices that could shape not only your future, but also that of the Shepherds. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Throw him out. We can\'t have him here."' 'throwhimoutwecant'>><<setcompassionate -10>><<setcunning +10>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Send him to the Healer\'s clinic. When he\'s clean of his addiction, he can come back."' 'sendhimtothehealersclinic'>><<setcompassionate +10>><<setcharisma +3>><<set $benir to true>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Let him stay, but take away his power."' 'lethimstaybuttakeaway'>><<setcourage +3>><<setloyal +5>><<setcompassionate +5>><<set $benirsabotage to true>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Let him stay and keep his position. Ultimately, no harm was done."' 'lethimstayandkeep'>><<setcompassionate +10>><<setintelligence -5>><<setcunning -5>><<setcourage +10>><<setloyal -5>><<set $benirsabotage to true>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Kill him. He\'s a traitor and a danger to us all."' 'killhimhesatraitor'>><<setcompassionate -15>><<setcunning +10>><<setshery -3>><<settrouble -1>><<set $cantbecommander += 1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Blade doesn't say anything for a moment, looking pensive. Finally he turns to Benir and says, "I don't care what Shepherds do in their spare time, so long as it doesn't endanger the Order. You can drink, smoke, gamble—as long as you can still carry out your duties when you must. But this Black Sun will disable you, and that might prove fatal to the ones who rely on you." He frowns down at the man. "Worse, you've broken our trust. We can't have you here in the Order." Benir nods slowly and rises, hands still twitching. After a moment he looks Blade square in the eye and says, "Can I have my Black Sun back?" A rare flash of emotion crosses Blade's face: disgust, pity, concern, scorn. After a moment he tosses Benir the little tin and says, "I have no right to keep it; you bought it with your own wages. I'd give you gold to go see a Healer, but I know you'll just use it to buy more." "Gods watch over you, Roxak," Tallys says, crossing her arms. She looks like she's hugging herself. "I hope one day this hunger in you can be filled, and you can find peace." Benir doesn't say another word. He just gathers up his things and walks out the door, clutching his tin like a child holding a prized doll. You and the rest of the Shepherds stand and watch him go, looking on like a silent crowd of spectators watching a man march his way to the gallows. <<include "blacksun">>

"I'm not paying a Healer," Benir blurts then. "I don't need to be healed. Any ailments I have, Black Sun can help me with." "<i>I'll</i> pay for it," Blade tells him sternly. "You'll thank me later." He looks at Shery. "Send for your Healer friend. And get someone to pack his things." "I don't want to go," Benir says loudly. "I'm not sick." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Don\'t you want to remain with the Shepherds?"' 'dontyouwanttoremainwithshepherds'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You are sick, you just don\'t realize it."' 'youaresickyoujustdontrealize'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Just leave him, then. He obviously doesn\'t welcome your help."' 'justleavehimheobviously'>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setblade -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

"There must have been some reason why you joined us in the first place," you tell him. "Don't you want to keep your position?" Benir frowns; his gaze is as empty and wondering as a child's. "I joined because I needed money," he says slowly. You shake your head. "I don't think that's true. I think you joined because you wanted to help people. And you can't help them when you're in this state. Can you?" Benir lapses into silence at this. Finally he says, "I'll go, then, fine. If you give me my tin back." You glance at Blade, who lifts one shoulder in a shrug. "I'll give it to the Healer," he says. "She'll decide what to do with it." This seems to assure Benir; he relaxes a little. "All right," he says. "I'll go." <<include "blacksun">>

Benir doesn't seem to know what to say to that. He slumps back a little, then says, defeated, "Can I at least have my tin back?" You glance at Blade, who lifts one shoulder in a shrug. "I'll give it to the Healer," he says. "She'll decide what to do with it." This seems to assure Benir; he relaxes a little. "All right," he says. "I'll go." Trouble grunts a little. "You ought to thank the Commander and <<c firstname>>, Ben," he says. "I wouldn't have shown you the same mercy." But Benir doesn't thank you. When the Healer arrives, he just gathers up his things and walks out of the compound, clutching his bag like a child with a prized doll. You and the rest of the Shepherds watch him go in silence. He doesn't look back, and soon enough the darkness of the night outside swallows him up—as if he had never existed in the first place. <<include "blacksun">>

Blade throws you an impatient glance. "He's not in his right mind," he says. "None of you are in <i>your</i> right minds," Benir butts in, clasping his knees. "But you'll see one day. You'll see." When the Healer arrives, she has to take him out on a stretcher, because the boy has lost the strength to stand. You watch her helpers bear him away like pallbearers carrying a coffin at a funeral. You can't stop the bleak thought from forming as you watch them— <i>Perhaps that's really what it is.</i> You watch as Benir is carried off to his uncertain fate. <<include "blacksun">>

Trouble looks at you sharply. "He's just going to keep using it," he tells you. You shrug. "Better here, where we can keep an eye on him, rather than out there, where he'll likely die on the streets." "This isn't a charity," Tallys cuts in coolly. "Or a sickhouse. We don't have the resources to watch over him—to rehabilitate him. It will take twice the vigilance just to ensure that he doesn't sabotage something else in the Order." "Let him clean the floors, then," you suggest. "Make him scrub the walls, clean up garbage, wash dishes. Cut his pay so he can't afford any more drugs. He can't sabotage anything then. But the boy made a mistake—I don't think he should be cast out into the cold and left to fend for himself." "He did well enough before he came to us," Trouble mutters, but Blade seems to agree with your decision. He nods and says, "Fine. But he keeps the stuff out of the Order. The wards will catch it if he tries to bring it in again. If I catch him using it on-duty or in the compound, he's out." Then he casts a glance around at the other watching Shepherds. "And let it be known now: Black Sun is prohibited to the Shepherds. It's too late for Roxak, but you see firsthand what effects it has. Don't allow yourselves to become like this pitiful fool. If you do, I won't extend the same mercy twice." There's a murmur of assent from the other watching Shepherds; no one seems to be tempted by Black Sun after watching Benir's breakdown. Trouble glances at you sidelong as a few others begin to gather up the Mage and his things and take him back to his room. "I just hope he doesn't kak anything else up," he tells you darkly. "It'll be on your head if he does, <<c firstname>>." <<include "blacksun">>

"<i>What?</i>" Trouble squawks. "The wards caught him," you say. "He's not going to try anything again. He can't even bring it back into the compound without everyone knowing. And what he does in his free time is his business—we can't regulate his choices, his mistakes." "<i>Oh yes we very well fucking can,</i>" Trouble exclaims. "I'm not getting my bones knitted together by a Mage who's high out of his mind!" "And that's your choice," you answer calmly. "We didn't know he was taking it before the wards went off, did we? His performance didn't change." Trouble sputters, then wheels around to look at Blade, who looks pensive. "You can't be considering this," he says. Blade doesn't answer him immediately. Finally he says, "From here on out, Black Sun is forbidden to the Shepherds: the same as alcohol and other substances on duty and in the compound. What you do on your days off is your business. Just keep it out of my sight." He looks down at Benir, looking faintly troubled. "We will see how he fares," he tells you slowly. "If there is any discernible change, I'll boot him. If not—then… we'll see." There's a ripple of discontent through the rest of the watching Shepherds. But Blade's word is final, and Benir, the subject of all this talk and discussion, is finally allowed to rise to his feet. He stands slowly, dusting his hands on the back of his pants, and finally looks Blade square in the eye. "So I get to stay?" he says. Blade's look is coolly dispassionate. "For now." Benir doesn't smile. "Then does that mean I can have my Black Sun back?" <<include "blacksun">>

"Here now," Trouble says, turning to you, startled. "I'm all for throwing him out, but <i>killing</i>?" "He's too dangerous a liability," you tell him. "He's been in our Order, he knows our secrets, our routines—the structure of our compound. You don't think he'd spill valuable information about us the instant one of our enemies tempted him with some Black Sun?" "We do not have the jurisdiction to murder people," Tallys puts in, more calmly than Trouble. "We can kill in self-defense, yes. In combat and to save lives. And we can kill Endarkened and Tainted and Thralls. Even Diminished on a rampage. But Roxak is none of those. We can't kill him because of what he <i>might</i> do." "Isn't Black Sun illegal?" "It's too new to be illegal," Shery murmurs. "It came out of nowhere. There are no laws against it." "And even if it were, we have no authority to execute criminals unless they're an active threat," Tallys insists. "And I say that Benir is one," you say. "To us, anyway. And I doubt the Autarchy would protest." You turn to Blade, whose face is unreadable. "Don't tell me that you, of all people, balk at the necessity of it?" Finally Blade makes a face of distaste, then flicks a glance up at the rest of the Shepherds who are listening in silence. You see the thought cross his mind: <i>What kind of example would this set?</i> He seems deeply annoyed with Benir for causing this kind of problem, or possibly even with Black Sun for presuming to exist. "I am not the kind of man who will murder a subordinate for displeasing me," he says finally, with deliberate slowness. "I have not hewed that closely to the ways of the Autarchy." Someone in the back of the group murmurs, barely audibly: "Not yet, anyway…" Blade pretends not to notice, though a twitch in his shoulders tells you he heard. "But you're right in that Benir cannot be allowed to stay, <<c surname>>, nor can he be allowed to go free. We'll give him over to the Vice Guard for abuse of his position, to ensure he doesn't go blabbing out the secrets of the Order, which in turn are the secrets of the Autarchy. From there they'll take him into their… safekeeping." "Or give him to the Inquisitors," Trouble remarks, folding his arms. "The Chrysalis." At this there's a ripple of dissent through the group. That in itself may be a fate even worse than death. Blade's expression doesn't change. "Yes," he says, just a tinge heavily. "Or that." Benir has been listening to this discussion of his fate with the distant, distracted interest of a child who can't quite follow the thread of an adult's conversation. Sensing a resolution being made, he finally lifts his head and says, "Does that mean I can have my Black Sun back?" <<include "blacksun">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "blacksun2">><</link>></center>

Later that night, you, Shery, Tallys, Trouble, and Blade convene in Blade's offices to discuss the matter further. "I'm not convinced that the wards went off because of Roxak's intentions," Tallys says. "I think that it was the Black Sun itself. The protective spell around this place might have sensed something about it—something evil. I know I did." "I think we should do some research on it," Shery adds timidly. "It couldn't hurt. The Archmage of this tower was a great researcher himself—I'm sure one of the artifacts here could tell us more…" "Or <<c halfname>> could do it," Trouble says, glancing at you. He's sitting in a chair turned backwards, with his feet planted on both sides and his elbows on the chair's back, smoking furiously. "Being our only real Mage in the Order right now." "I also have some contacts," Blade puts in calmly. "If I call in a favor, I can find out more about the nature of this Black Sun; perhaps find the person he got it from. Interview this Waxman." <ul class="choices"> <<if $darktome is true or $arcane gte 35 or ($specialization is "conjurer" and $arcane gte 20)>><li><<link '"I\'ll look into Black Sun myself."' 'illlookintoblacksunmyself'>><<setloyal -2>><<setmagic +3>><<setarcane +3>><<setintelligence +2>><</link>></li><<else>><<disabled "I\'ll look into Black Sun myself.">><</if>> <<if $sherytime gte 1>><li><<link '"Let Shery do the research on it."' 'letsheryresearchit'>><<setshery +5>><<setloyal +2>><</link>></li><<else>><<disabled "Let Shery do the research on it.">><</if>> <li><<link '"Let Blade ask his contacts about it."' 'letbladeaskhiscontacts'>><<setblade +1>><<setloyal +2>><</link>></li> </ul>

The others nod slowly, as if this makes sense to them. Blade says, his tiredness showing only in the faintest exhale through his nose: "I'll leave it to you, then. Let's get some sleep for tonight, and see what we can uncover about this pestilence tomorrow." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "researchbsalone">><</link>></center>

The next day, you set to the task of looking into Black Sun yourself. You pore for hours over the Order's many texts and magical volumes, crawling through histories, complex theoretical works, and arcane spellbooks for any hint as to what Black Sun could be or what about it could have set the wards off. You read until your head is thumping, your eyes are dry and throbbing, and your face feels parched and withered from long hours of staring intently at tiny columns of text. Finally, you have to call a halt in your search, feeling the futility of the last several hours in the way your bones creak and flare in protest from sitting for so long. <<nobr>> <<if $darktome is true>> "I need help," you mutter to yourself, though where exactly that help should come from, you're not sure. You doubt that having another pair of eyes on this mountain of books will be useful if the answer doesn't lie in these books at all. <br><br> At that exact moment, your hand happens to brush against the black, cracked spine of a book you don't remember placing in the pile. And at the contact, something bright and acrid suddenly flares into your mind like a splash of blood on a wall. <br><br> <i>Use me,</i> something whispers into your mind, an oily caress. <br><br> And without knowing when you did it, you realize that your hand has closed around the book you stole from the Equalists' compound. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Cringe back from the book.' 'cringedarktome'>><<setcourage -1>><<setcunning +1>><<setloyal +2>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Open the book eagerly.' 'eagerdarktome'>><<setcourage +1>><<setcompassionate -1>><<setloyal -5>><</link>></li> </ul> <<elseif $arcane gte 35 or $specialization is "conjurer">> "I need help," you mutter to yourself, though where exactly that help should come from, you're not sure. You doubt that having another pair of eyes on this mountain of books will be useful if the answer doesn't lie in these books at all. <br><br> At that exact moment, your hand happens to brush against the red, cracked spine of a book you don't remember placing in the pile. <br><br> Curious, you flip the book open and take in a little hiss of breath when you realize what it is: an edition of the <i>Codex Luminis</i>, a book detailing the process of summoning a lesser spirit. This particularly volume contains lists of names for lesser spirits of knowledge. <br><br> <i>Well, that's useful.</i> While not as powerful (or as complex to wrangle) as greater spirits, even lesser spirits of knowledge can contain a wealth of information not found in books; due to their very natures, they tend to absorb and retain data like sponges, and the ones who have been around for centuries are chockful of useful facts. They're not fool-proof by any means, able to be distracted or deceived or manipulated, but depending on which one you summon, you could find the answers you've been seeking within a few minutes. <br><br> The only problem is the setup: according to this book, it will take you at least an hour to prepare the correct configurations, wards, and spell-circles to protect yourself before you can attempt to conjure something from the Spirit Realm. Even lesser spirits can do harm if they prove to be unruly. And there's always a price to pay for their services, too. Sighing, you rise from your seat and set to the task of clearing away the untidy stacks of volumes you've made. You're going to need a lot more room. <br><br> <<page_break "Next" "spiritofknowledgesummon">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<notify_codex_endarkened "On Spirits and Demons">><<set $spiritsanddemons to true>>Nearly two hours later, you sit cross-legged within your triple-bound circle of protection, watching as tiny flashes and glimmers of fey light flicker hopefully within the circle opposite of yours. It's like watching the embers smolder within a bundle of kindling, too fragile for you to risk even blowing on it, or watching distant stormclouds glint with the promise of lightning. Eventually, the tiniest wisp of blue flame—perhaps the most minor suggestion of a spirit you've ever seen—appears in the circle. You press your lips into a thin line, perhaps to keep from laughing. So much for this edition of the <i>Codex Luminis</i>. The spirit it recorded has all of the presence and strength of a dust bunny. Once the spell is complete, there aren't precise words or incantations you have to say, but sticking with a greeting that's tried and true can prove helpful in grounding the spirit and orientating it in the unfamiliar surroundings of Blest. "Episteme," you intone, "I name thee. I welcome thee, in the spirit of kinship and shared understanding. To prove our friendship, I have brought thee gifts." The spirit's blue, almost liquid-like flame rotates within its circle uncertainly, almost in a questing fashion. Then, in the thinnest voice imaginable, it says querulously, <i>What have you brought me?</i> Minor spirits like this only require small tokens for each service. You plan to give it... <ul class="choices"> <<fake_choice "A platter of fruit, cured meats, and cheese. Because they typically lack a form in their world, spirits delight in even the simplest pleasures of the flesh." "spiritofknowledgeblacksun">> <<fake_choice "A copy of today's newspaper. A spirit of knowledge is always drawn to even the most trivial forms of new knowledge." "spiritofknowledgeblacksun">> <<fake_choice "A rendition of a popular song, played by you on a valke. Spirits love new experiences, especially ones that utilize senses they don't have in the Spirit Realm." "spiritofknowledgeblacksun">> </ul>

The spirit takes a moment to process your offering. Then, seemingly pleased, it says primly, <i>What would you ask of me?</i> You describe the situation with Black Sun, of what happened with Benir Roxak and the wards. Episteme says immediately, <i>I recall a city long ago: the city of Nemuth, close to where your Heth Macoll now lies. A master of mine sent her apprentice to that city to find a rare artifact, and the apprentice returned bearing ill news. Nemuth had been ravaged overnight by a drug similar to the one you describe, though then it was called Lethe, and it brought ectasy and oblivion to all who consumed it. People said that Lethe was a medicine, a panacea, one that could cure the world's ills. But within a matter of months, that city lay dark and empty, all its occupants driven to catatonia or madness, and the streets had to be purged of the husks that littered them. That was almost eight hundred years ago.</i> It pauses for a long moment, before you prompt, "Was anything ever discovered about where Lethe had come from, or who had made it?" <i>No</i>, the spirit replies heavily, <i>but my master suspected it was the doing of a Faceless Lord. She could never prove it, though.</i> A little chill grips your heart, then. "A Faceless Lord?" Episteme bobs up and down in a nod. <i>They go by many names, but the five Faceless Lords have existed since the Dawn Wars, and the creation of the Endarkened. They are different facets of the Archdemon itself, or perhaps its limbs, reaching across the worldwalls to wreak havoc on Blest while feeding power back to their slumbering overlord. The Archdemon grows on the pain and havoc and madness they inflict, you see, and their final aim is to nourish it this way until it can grow strong enough to finally reawaken and renew its assault on the world of Light. The Faceless Lords are the Archdemon's generals, sent out to wage war and conquer on its behalf. They are plagues on humanity, and some might even purport that dark periods in your history could be attributed to the actions of a Faceless Lord, though this can't be directly proven.</i> "And you... you think Black Sun... could be like Lethe? Could be the doings of a Faceless Lord?" you ask, breathless. The spirit is silent for a while. <i>I do not know,</i> it admits. <i>Even my knowledge can only extend so far. But it seems to me that you should find out. Before it's too late.</i> <<page_break "Next" "research_succeed">>

You snatch your hand back from the dark tome, but still, the voice—though it's more like a sensation, an <i>awareness</i> of something, than it is an actual voice—persists. <i>You took me for a reason</i>, it whispers. <i>Why have you not yet used me? </i> You frown down at the ancient, cracked spellbook, its black cover riddled all over with spidery red veins. You knew when you took it from the Equalists that it was contraband for a reason, quite obviously a fount of occult and forbidden knowledge—and it was with some trepidation that you brought into the compound with you, fearful of the same wards that caught Benir Roxak going off on <i>you</i>. But nothing happened: whatever this book is, it doesn't seem to be demonic, though that doesn't mean it isn't infused with a dark and profane power of its own. Still, the fact that the wards cleared it must mean it doesn't pose any actual danger to the occupants of the Order if the one who wields it doesn't hold any ill intentions... right? And you still have yet to uncover anything useful about Black Sun. So, fingers trembling, you find yourself easing the book open for the first time. And the book glides open as smoothly as if its pages were made of silk. Your heart thumps uneasily as you skim through the tiny, faded red text and the stained illustrations of disturbing rituals, virgins being sacrificed while leopards hang on silk cords, men being boiled alive in strange pits of magma. Here are even descriptions of Sorcerors summoning Endarkened and taking them on as slaves or even lovers! You swallow, hard. Shepherd or not, if the Autarchy ever caught you with this in your possession, you would be executed immediately. <<include "facelesslordstome">>

Finally you arrive at a page that seems relevant to you. It describes the myth of the "Faceless Lords"—five plagues on humanity that are said to be the facets or limbs of the Archdemon itself, reaching across the worldwalls to wreak havoc on Blest while feeding power back to the slumbering Archdemon, so that it can grow strong enough on the violence and chaos caused by the Faceless Lords to finally awaken and renew its assault on the Children of Light. These Faceless Lords are like generals sent out to wage war and conquer on behalf of their king, and the book purports that many dark periods in your own history could be attributed to the actions of a Faceless Lord somehow, though this can't be directly proven. <<if $confrontequalists>>A chill falls across your heart as you recognize one of the many names of these Faceless Lords. <i>Blaphemel.</i> It can't be... <</if>> Reading on, you find tales and accounts of the many catastrophes these Faceless Lords have supposedly wrought on behalf of their dark master. Plague, famine, war, outbreaks of madness... And here, as a small footnote by some scholar four hundred years past: <i>From the scant evidence I can find, it seems the ancient city of Nemuth was devoured in a matter of months by a narcotic that came from nowhere: an elixir that induced both ectasy and extreme catatonia within its victims, and was proclaimed to cure all the world's pains. I cannot be sure, but this sounds like the work of a Faceless Lord... but there is no one to ask for sure, as the city of Nemuth exists no more. That 'panacea' spelled their end.</i> That's all of the information you can find, but it seems enough. You let the book fall shut with a heavy, decisive thud. <ul class="choices"> <<fake_choice "Shit." "research_succeed">> <<fake_choice "I did it." "research_succeed">> <<fake_choice "I have to tell the others!" "research_succeed">> </ul>

You flip open the dark tome eagerly, its pages whispering open as smoothly as if they were made of silk. You knew when you took it from the Equalists that it was contraband for a reason, quite obviously a fount of occult and forbidden knowledge—and it was with some trepidation that you brought into the compound with you, fearful of the same wards that caught Benir Roxak going off on <i>you</i>. But nothing happened: whatever this book is, it doesn't seem to be demonic, though that doesn't mean it isn't infused with a dark and profane power of its own. Still, the fact that the wards cleared it must mean it doesn't pose any actual danger to the occupants of the Order, so long as the one who wields it doesn't hold any ill intentions. So, confident of your mastery, you find yourself riffling hungrily through the book's pages, your fingertips seeming to tingle as they brush against the faded red ink. You skim through tiny, cramped text and the stained illustrations of disturbing rituals, virgins being sacrificed while leopards hang on silk cords, men being boiled alive in strange pits of magma. Here are even descriptions of Sorcerors summoning Endarkened and taking them on as slaves or even lovers! You purse your lips, though you read on. Shepherd or not, if the Autarchy ever caught you with this in your possession, you would be executed immediately. <<include "facelesslordstome">>

Shery stiffens when you state her name—then bobs her head furiously. "Y-yes!" she squeaks. "I can do it! I'll start looking into it right away." Blade nods, his tiredness showing only in the faintest exhale through his nose. "Let's get some sleep, then," he intones as everyone in the room rises. "See what we can uncover about this pestilence tomorrow." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "vivek">><</link>></center>

Blade nods slowly, looking thoughtful, before he rises to his feet and says gravely, "I'll see to it, then." Without any further preamble, he turns and sweeps silently from the room. Trouble sighs after him. "Always the lone wolf, that one," he mutters to himself. "Well. Hope he doesn't wind up killing anyone." You look around at him sidelong. "Is that... a common concern with him?" Trouble barks a short laugh, while Tallys pinches the bridge of her nose. "Not since he became Commander, no," the sniper replies. "He's got to, you know, be lawful and all. But I just hope his contacts—or this Waxman—end up being cooperative. The Ket way of gathering information tends to be, uh, pretty brutal otherwise." "Effective, though," Tallys murmurs ruefully. <<page_break "Next" "bladereturnswaxman">>

And effective it is, as you soon find when Blade returns to the compound a few days later. His face is as calm and impassive as ever, his gaze cool and unruffled, but you don't miss how he subtly uses a rag to wipe the bruised and split knuckles on his right hand while he waits for the rest of the group to reassemble. Without looking up from his task, he says in a bland, neutral tone: "Well. The Waxman won't be selling his wares in Haven any longer, but I was able to unearth some information regardless." Trouble shoots you a look, as if to say, <i>I told you so.</i> "What did you uncover?" Tallys asks. "To make a long story short, this drug's hold on the city has become ironclad overnight," Blade says in a clipped voice. "I've seen virulent drugs before, but nothing that could take a metropolis like Haven within the span of a few sennights. It sounded like—" "Demon-work," Shery breathes. Her eyes widen when you all glance at her, and she amends hastily, "Or dark magic, at the very least." Blade nods curtly. "Yes. First I attempted to trace where this Waxman's supply came from, but that was a dead end: great pains had been taken to obscure the source and passage of the drug from its supplier to its dealers, which was interesting enough, considering it hasn't yet been declared illegal by the Sun Court. And it takes quite a lot to foil me." He shakes his head irritably. "From there, I had one of our Mages send an express message to... a monastery I know. Worshippers of the Blank God. Trouble and I lended them some assistance a while back." The sniper nods. "Oh, yeah. Weird bunch, but nice. They take a vow of silence and live high up in the mountains, totally alone in their monastery. Like hermits. Shave their heads and everything. And all of 'em are Hunters, to a man." You all straighten in interest at that. Hunters have been expelled from the city as a result of the last Uprising, but there's no denying that adding some to your ranks—especially with their demon-hunting and exorcist capabilities—would be incredibly valuable. Tallys says alertly, "You have allies in an entire monastery of Hunters? Why have you not invited them to join us?" "They're pacificists," Blade intones, his dry tone indicating that he's profoundly aware of the irony. "Along with their vow of silence, they've forsworn taking up weapons. It's their way of resisting the blood-rage that they consider their genetic curse." He shakes his head. "But they can, at least, be appealed to for consultation in times of emergency. Once I described the situation, their leader sent his message back to me immediately, and what he had to say was very clear." He places the letter, filled with an old man's shaky handwriting, down on the table between you, and you all lean forward to read the ominous, bolded words nested within the rest of the text. A little chill falls over your heart as you read the highlighted words: <b>FACELESS LORD</b>. <<page_break "Next" "ohthedramaofthefacelesslord">>

Trouble looks up quizzically while Shery gasps and places her fingers over her mouth. Tallys's own mouth twists, as if someone had spoken an obscene word into the silence of the room. "What the Hael's a Faceless Lord?" "I'm surprised you haven't heard of them," Tallys says, glancing at him. "Even the Church acknowledges their existence from time to time. They're the five plagues of humanity, the five limbs of the Archdemon, itself the living vessel of the dark god Tapyt. If the Archdemon is king of the demons, the Faceless Lords are its Infernal Princes, or its generals, set by it to campaign and make war and conquer on its behalf. While the Archdemon slumbers in Hael, the Faceless Lords slip through our worldwalls and wreak havoc in Blest, sowing seeds of madness and chaos and violence and sickness. In doing so, they feed power back to the Archdemon—for it and all demonkind are nourished by our suffering—hoping to eventually awaken it so that it can renew its assault on the world of Light. According to some, almost every dark period in our history could theoretically be traced back to the secret doings of a Faceless Lord." "Oh, <i>them</i>," Trouble says, seemingly unfazed by this dramatic story. "I always thought they were, you know, a myth, like the saints and their helpers and the angels and all that. No offense, Shery." Before Shery can respond, Blade says, his tone not quite sharp, "You work for an order of demon-hunters, and you didn't bother to investigate whether tales of the five most threatening demons we know of could be true or not?" Trouble pulls a face. "Well, it wasn't quite brought up at orientation, was it? And that's sort of on <i>you</i>, I'd think." Before the conversation can derail, you cut in, scanning the letter: "So your contact believes that Black Sun is the doing of a Faceless Lord?" Blade nods gravely, his eyes shuttered and troubled. "It seems so. His warnings on the topic were quite dire. He urged me to rid the city of this drug as quickly as possible... at our own peril. Apparently the more people who fall to Black Sun, the more this theoretical Faceless Lord could grow in strength." "But how could we possibly hope to do that?" you ask. <<if $confrontequalists is true>>But even as you ask the question, your memory stirs: didn't the Voice in your head call Blaphemel a Faceless Lord?...<</if>> "Drugs are in the Vice Guard's jurisdiction, not ours; and we have no concrete proof that Black Sun is demon-related, other than the word of someone who doesn't even live here. Will the Autarch agree to act on our word and ban it with such thin evidence?" Blade tilts his head in a gesture of reluctant concession. "Perhaps not. We need to investigate further first. We can draw better conclusions then… after we figure out if it's our task to cleanse the entire city of this rot." Trouble shudders. "God help us if it is," he murmurs. And so you send out a team of investigators into the city to try and trace this problem… but as with all things Endarkened, Black Sun is insidious and ephemeral and very hard to track. After a few days, you decide that all you can do for now is wait for new leads to turn up. But you can't help the feeling of anxiety and dread that plucks at your heart like a taut string. <<page_break "Next" "wompwomp2">>

The next day, Shery comes to you, biting her lip. "I've found out who we can ask about the Black Sun," she says anxiously, "as well as why the wards went off. I spent all night going through all of the Archmage's old journals and records… and the answer lies in this very tower, actually." You raise your brow. "But?" Somehow you sense there's an implicit <i>but</i>. A blush spreads across her cheeks. "But… we have to ask Vivek. That old gargoyle in the hallway? But… he hates me." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I\'ll come with you. He\'ll talk to me."' 'illcomewithyouhelltalk'>><<setshery +3>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Ugh... I suppose I can help you, since you can\'t do it on your own."' 'ughiguessicanhelp'>><<setshery -3>><<setcharisma -3>><</link>></li> </ul>

Shery smiles, her face pinking happily. "Thank you, <<c firstname>>!" she blurts. "I know he'll listen to you." <<include "vivek2">>

Shery colors even further, but she says nothing to your insulting comment. She only nods and says, rather stiffly: "L-let's go, then." <<include "vivek2">>

The two of you make your way to the main corridor where Vivek the stone-spirit rests, lurking in the form of a hulking lion's head. As soon as you make your approach, the creature erupts into a storm of yelling. "<i>Go away</i>!" it shouts. Its voice is both gravelly and piercing, and seems to come from within the statue—though of course none of its carven features actually move. "I'll not have you poking around today!" Shery bites her lip and looks at you anxiously. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Appeal to the creature\'s sense of vanity. "We need to talk to you, Vivek. You\'re the only one who can help us."' 'appealtothecreaturessense'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Bully the creature into submission. "Answer our questions or I\'ll take a hammer to what remains of your face."' 'bullythecreatureintosubmission'>><<setcompassionate -5>><</link>></li> </ul>

There's a moment of silence as the creature mulls it over. Finally it mutters, reluctantly: "What is it?" <<include "vivek3">>

There's a moment of shocked silence as the creature processes this threat. Finally it mutters, "What is it, then? What is it? Speak quickly!" <<include "vivek3">>

You look expectantly at Shery, who shuffles forward. "Erm—Vivek—I was reading last night and… it says that <i>you</i> are one of the keepers of the wards for this tower. Is that true?" The gargoyle doesn't answer, which you take to mean agreement. "Can you tell us why the wards went off last night?" Shery asks. Still the creature doesn't answer. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"VIVEK! ANSWER HER!"' 'vivekanswerher'>><<setcompassionate -2>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Wait and say nothing.' 'vivek4'>><</link>></li> </ul>

The creature cries out in fear at your bellow. "All right, all right!" it shouts. "I was <i>thinking</i>!" <<include "vivek4">>

Finally it says: "Someone brought a demon-thing into this place. Of course the wards went off." You and Shery exchange glances. Demon-thing? "Can you elaborate?" you ask it. Vivek mutters to itself, and you catch some words that suspiciously sound like <i>they don't know anything</i>. "Master placed many spells on this place," it finally answers resentfully. "Many spells to keep the demons out. Demons are always drawn to powerful magic, wanting to corrupt it. So he made wards to always detect them, even things with their essence on them." "And you're saying something with demonic essence came into the tower last night?" The statue grunts. "The little tin the boy brought in. It had a demon-thing in it." Shery squeaks. "You're saying Black Sun is… tainted by demonic energies somehow?" Vivek growls. "'Course that's what I'm saying! What are you, thick?" She cowers, and you have to intercede again. "Enough of that. Tell us more about the drug." "Don't know much more than that," Vivek mumbles, sounding put-out. "Smells like a demon made it, or it came from part of a demon, or something. If I had to guess, I'd say it was a Faceless Lord. Powerful stuff, it was." "A… Faceless Lord?" you ask, not failing to notice Shery's suddenly pale face.<<nobr>><<if $confrontequalists is true>> <i>There are more than one?</i> <br><br> <<include "sheryexplain">> <<else>> <br><br> <<include "sheryexplain">> <</if>><</nobr>>

"A Faceless Lord is one of the five most powerful Endarkened known to man," she whispers to you, clutching at her long sleeves. "They're said to be five facets of the Archdemon itself, each representing some horrible plague on humanity. Every race has some sort of legend about one of the Faceless Lords appearing throughout the millennia to bring about great famines, wars, or outbreaks of madness… Every dark period in our history could probably be traced back to the 'Infernal Princes,' if one looked hard enough." <<nobr>><br><br><<if $confrontequalists is true>> Suddenly you think back to that ancient demon you faced at the Equalists' hideout. Blaphemel, the Prince of Madness: the demon who fed on the Equalists' pride and seduced them into insanity. You haven't yet figured out how to tell anyone how you came to confront it, let alone know its true nature by dint of the voice in your head… but now there's a second one? <br><br> This can't mean anything good. <</if>><</nobr>> "So you're saying… Black Sun has some connection to a Faceless Lord?" you ask aloud. "It's been made by a <i>demon</i>?" "But for what purpose?" Shery whispers, even paler. "What does it do to people that serves an Endarkened's purpose? Does it feed on their catatonia, and… and their sloth?" Vivek falls ominously silent at this. "Dunno," the creature says finally. "Reckon you'd better find out." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "research_succeed">><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<achieve "achieve_eclipse">><<notify_achievement "Eclipse" "Uncovered the true nature of Black Sun.">><</nobr>>When you alert the others to this news, no one looks particularly happy. "Now I kind of wish you hadn't succeeded," Trouble exclaims. "What the <i>fuck</i>?" "We need to investigate this immediately," Blade snaps. "Do you think the Faceless Lords are real?" Tallys asks him. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"It sounds like a scary story you\'d tell a child."' 'wompwomp'>><<setfaith -2>><</link>></li> <<if $confrontequalists is true>><li><<link '"They must be. I\'m pretty sure I faced one myself."' 'theymustbeifacedone'>><<setfaith +2>><</link>></li><</if>> </ul>

You remind the group of Blaphemel, and how the demon had infected the Equalists with insanity, feeding on their ambition and pride. You don't mention the Voice that spoke to you, but you remember it clearly: it had called the demon a Faceless Lord, clear and plain as day. These incidents are connected. <i>There's a second one</i>, something inside you whispers. Tallys looks disturbed. "But why now?" she asks. "Why here?" <<include "wompwomp">>

"Does it matter?" Shery asks, pressing her knuckles to her mouth. "It's our duty to investigate such things anyway, r-right? And if this drug really can be traced back to one of the most powerful Cacophants in existence, a servant of the Archdemon itself…" You all lapse into silence at this. Then you shake your head. "We need to investigate first. We can draw our conclusions later… after we figure out if we need to cleanse the entire city of this rot." Trouble shudders. "God help us if we do," he murmurs. You send out a team of investigators into the city to try and trace this problem… but as with all things Endarkened, Black Sun is insidious and ephemeral and very hard to track. After a few days, you decide that all you can do for now is wait for new leads to turn up. But you can't help the feeling of anxiety and dread that plucks at your heart like a taut string. <<page_break "Next" "wompwomp2">>

<<set $cacophant to true>><<notify_codex_endarkened "The Faceless Lords">>One morning, you leave the Shepherds' compound with Trouble and Blade, assigned to patrol duty with them in the Market Quarter until the afternoon. The city is alive and burbling with noise: preparations are well underway for the approaching Candle Day, which will take place in a sennight's time. The Autarch holds these holidays around twice a year, though the dates always differ and seem governed by completely arbitrary whims. ("The will of the One-God," Blade comments dryly. "The Autarch can't control when God feels it's time to throw a party.") At one point in the past, <i>Candle Days</i> were actually <i>Petal Festivals</i>—celebrations of laughter, dancing, and joy under the doting eyes of the love goddess, Hina. Celebrants would orchestrate great games and sports for young children; traveling performers, bards, and acting troupes would stage extravagant shows; and hopeful youths or couples would visit Hina's temple, hoping that the goddess would find them their lifelong match. In the fall, Petal Festivals also served another purpose: it was said that the Winterfather, Nante, despised laughter, and so the celebration was also meant to drive away the harshness of incoming winter. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "wompwomp3">><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<notify_codex_culture "Holiday Guide">><</nobr>>This, of course, was all done away with after the Castigation. Hina, Nante, and any mentions of the Old Faith were eradicated, and besides that, the Autarchy didn't want to officially encourage young Diminished to copulate and produce more Diminished children. Petal Festivals became Candle Days: days spent in silence and solemn prayer, so that the candle of revelation could be lit in the minds of non-believers and the weak. It's only been in the lifetime of this current Autarch that the nature of Candle Days has changed once again. You've heard that The Golden One is more lenient than Autarchs of the past, and for reasons unknown, she has declared that Candle Days are to once again be periods of festivity and celebration. Trouble has already regaled you with tales of Haven's recent Candle Days: day-long parties filled with drunken revelry, feasting, dancing, and whoring. "An age-old concept," Blade says flatly in his clipped way. "Let the oppressed forget they're oppressed for a while; give them an outlet for their energies, so that they can't harness those energies against you, unleashing them in little upheavals and rebellions. Keep them happy by staging huge spectacles—after all, happy animals are docile animals." "Haelfire," Trouble says, stubbing out his stick of charch. "Can't you let <i>anybody</i> have a little fun?" "I'm surprised to hear you so openly criticize the Autarch," you add, glancing around to make sure no Vice Guards or Inquisitors are listening. Blade's eyebrows lift. "I'm not criticizing," he deadpans. "Only pointing out the obvious: the Autarch does not make this gesture out of mercy or kindness. This, as in all things, is simply a way to stay in power." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "wompwomp4">><</link>></center>

Your talk is suddenly interrupted by a sudden commotion up the busy, shop-crowded street. Your attention snaps towards the unexpected racket, but a crowd of spectators has already formed, blocking your view of whatever's causing all the fuss. You can't tell what's going on: could it be a cart collision? An argument? All you can make out are the rounded tops of a train of wagons, and you can barely discern the sounds of several voices shouting at each other. Someone screams out for the Vice Guard. Blade motions for Trouble to go with him. "Stay here," he instructs you. "Keep an eye on things. We'll call you if we need backup." "All right," you answer, and he and Trouble disappear into the crowd. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "wompwomp5">><</link>></center>

<<set $medallion to false>>As you crane to see what's going on, someone suddenly bumps into you. You stagger to maintain your balance, having stood on your tiptoes to see over the crowd; the man who bumped into you turns briefly and says, "Sorry." You get the brief impression of a graceful, acrobatic frame, stylish clothes, tanned skin, and bright green eyes. A playful and intelligent gaze. That's all you get a glimpse of before the man vanishes up the street, heading in the opposite direction of the commotion with the wagons. It's not until you turn back towards the incident that you notice that something is different. Something about the weight of your body has changed; your neck feels lighter… With a feeling of sudden panic, you grab at your chest. "Shit," you blurt. Your sun medallion is gone—the badge of authority you wear around your neck that allows you free reign in Blest, courtesy of the Autarch. The very symbol that marks you as one of the Shepherds' Order! You look around at your feet, but even a cursory glance tells you that you haven't dropped the medallion. You've been robbed! <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Chase after the thief!' 'thievesguild'>><<setloyal -10>><<setcourage +3>><<setcunning -3>><<setchase +5>><<settrouble +1>><<set $followedchase to true>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Tell Blade and Trouble that you\'ve been pickpocketed!' 'merchantsguild'>><<setloyal +10>><<setcourage -3>><<setintelligence +3>><<setriel +5>><<setblade +1>><<set $followedriel to true>><</link>></li> </ul>

"<i>Vex'ka</i>," you curse again, before turning and careening back in the direction of the thief. You can't let him get away: you can't even imagine what could happen with a token of the Autarch's authority in the hands of a common man… or a criminal. And there's the unholy wrath you'll face from Blade when you tell him that you've had your badge slipped right off your neck. So you run. Ahead of you, the thief—<i>brown hair</i>, you think, <i>dark coat</i>—slips through the crowds like a fish through a stream. The crush of people in the streets buffets your body as you try to follow him, but you gamely manage to keep up for several minutes. It's only once you've slid into the mud-slick alleyways of Ashtown that you see the man glance back at you with interest… before he makes a dash for a busy intersection. From a block away, it seems clear that you're in danger of losing sight of him. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Fire a spell that will make him freeze in place.' 'fireaspellthatwillmake'>><<setreputation -1>><<setmagic +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Start yelling at passerby to grab him.' 'startyellingatpasserby'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Put your head down and put on an extra burst of speed.' 'putyourheaddownandputon'>><<setstrength +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

…Of course, it's practically impossible to hit a single moving target amongst a sea of people—and you accidentally lock up the movements of an irritable merchant for your troubles. By the time you make your apologies and fumble past her, the thief has rounded the corner, slipping just to the edge of your field of sight. <<include "thievesguild2">>

…Of course, no one pays you any mind: the citizens of Haven have grown desensitized to all manner of sights, and no one even looks up at the man as he weaves between wagon wheels and hooves of workhorses. <<include "thievesguild2">>

…Unfortunately, no amount of speeding up can take care of the mass of people in your way. You push, shove, and barrel others over in your attempt to catch up to the wily thief, but you're not in time to stop him from rounding the corner, slipping just to the edge of your field of sight… <<include "thievesguild2">>

You swear you catch his merry green eyes glancing back at you once more—and winking. Then, in another moment, he's vanished. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "thievesguild3">><</link>></center>

You slow to a halt. <i>Damn it!</i> The bastard's gotten away with your sun medallion! <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Damn!"' 'thievesguild4'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Shit!"' 'thievesguild4'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Fuck!"' 'thievesguild4'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Mutter angry nonsense to yourself.' 'thievesguild4'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Curse silently in your head.' 'thievesguild4'>><</link>></li> </ul>

When you finally manage to catch a breath and look around, you notice that the elusive thief has led you to the docks—a particularly sleazy part of Ashtown bordering the Naucharin, the wide river that springs from the top of Haven's plateau and down into the valley of the Sun's Embrace. It's more of a canal, really, rather than a roaring, foaming current, and punters and dockworkers look at you curiously from the placid water as you pace around and curse. The thief has literally managed to vanish into thin air—air that smells of damp wood, peat, and salted fish. Snooping around and ducking into alleyways turns up nothing: this area is filled with grungy warehouses and places of storage, all of which are locked and barred to you. Any one of them would serve as the perfect hideout for a thief. You pause to evaluate your options, finally allowing your heart to slow. Going to the Vice Guard wouldn't do much: they're hardly competent enough to stop a thievery that's happening right in front of them, let alone track down a pickpocket even you couldn't catch. And you didn't stop long enough to make sure Blade or Trouble knew where you were going. What happens now? <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "thievesguild5">><</link>></center>

Before you can even decide, you suddenly notice a man—different from the one who snatched your medallion—loitering near one of the warehouses, his hands in his pockets and his shoulders insouciantly slouched. He would look like any other dockworker or laborer… except for the fact that he's looking at you out of the corner of his eyes with interest. When you begin to stride towards him, the man's shoulders hunch even further. He's a ragged-looking sort, with lanky brown hair falling to his shoulders and scruff on his cheeks. You can't see his hands, but you imagine they're rough with work on the river. As you approach, he mutters, "Don't want no trouble." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Did you see a man run past here?"' 'didyouseeamanrunpasthere'>><</link>></li> </ul>

The man frowns. "What sort of man?" Suddenly you notice that he's leaned up by a doorway. You describe the man who stole your medallion: slim, tanned, with a dark tailored coat, carefully-tousled brown hair, and a rogueish look. The dockworker snorts. "Never saw no one like that." <<include "interrogatesentry">>

<ul class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("imashepherdautarchswill")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"I\'m a Shepherd. If you\'re lying to me, you\'re obstructing the Autarch\'s will." </div>' 'imashepherdautarchswill'>><<if $compassionate lt 50>><<setcompassionate -2>><</if>><<setloyal +1>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("hestolesomethingprecious")>><<link '<div class="talk-item"> "He stole something of mine. It\'s very precious to me, and I really need it back."</div>' 'hestolesomethingprecious'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("whoareyousentry")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"Who are you, anyway?" </div>' 'whoareyousentry'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("whatsbehindyouthere")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"What\'s behind you there?"</div>' 'whatsbehindyouthere'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $noticegraffiti is true>><<if not hasVisited("whatsthatsymbol")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"...What\'s that symbol?"</div>' 'whatsthatsymbol'>><</link>><</if>><</if>> <li><<link 'With nothing left to say, you push past him and investigate the doorway.' 'thievesden'>><</link>></li> </ul>

<<nobr>><<if $compassionate gte 50>> The man's lips twitch. "But I ain't lying," he answers calmly. "I never saw no one like that." <<include "interrogatesentry">> <<else>> The man's expression falters, but otherwise he doesn't react. "What's a Shepherd want with him? …Not that I know anything about it, of course." <<include "interrogatesentry">> <</if>><</nobr>>

The man raises a brow. "What was it?" "My badge." His eyes sharpen. "Oh." <<include "interrogatesentry">>

The man hesitates. "Rafe," he says eventually. "The name's Rafe." "And who do you work for, Rafe?" His eyes flick sideways, but otherwise his bland expression doesn't change. "Nobody." "So you're, what, unemployed and just hanging around here?" His eyes stare at you, gray and dull with a perhaps suppressed intelligence. "Far as you're concerned, ayup." <<include "interrogatesentry">>

The man shifts defensively, as if to cover your field of view. "None of your business," he growls. Well, if <i>that</i> isn't suspicious… You crane your neck to get a better look around him. The doorway leading into the warehouse itself is small and inconspicuous—maybe <i>too</i> inconspicuous—just a small, dark, single-person entrance. <<nobr>><<if $intelligence gte 25>> <<set $noticegraffiti to true>> The walls here are covered with graffiti, as with all the other buildings in this neighborhood: the bricks are discolored with the chicken scratch and angry paint of recalcitrant dockworkers and bored delinquents. <br><br> You do notice one scrawl that sticks out to you, somehow. It looks like a small sigil of some sort, shimmering in a metallic gold paint… You've seen this symbol all over the city, actually. As if many members of a gang—or one lone street artist—had peppered the city with it. <br><br> <<if settings.theme is "Scholar" or settings.theme is "Bard">><center><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/room/chasecat.png"></center> <<elseif settings.theme is "Soldier" or settings.theme is "Royal">><center><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/room/chasecat.png" style="filter: invert(100%);"></center> <</if>> <<include "interrogatesentry">> <<else>> Nothing outwardly seems off to you. Still, you can't help the niggling instinct in your gut… <<include "interrogatesentry">> <</if>><</nobr>>

The man's eyes dart around. "What symbol?" You point. "The one that looks like a cat." He doesn't turn to look. "I don't know what you're talking about." <<include "interrogatesentry">>

"Oi," the man says roughly as you make to push past. He extends an arm across the doorway to stop you. "You can't go in there." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Shove past him anyway.' 'shovepasthimanyway'>><<setstrength +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Glare at him with all the force of your magic.' 'glareathimwithalltheforce'>><<setmagic +1>><<setpsionic +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Duck nimbly under his arm before he can stop you.' 'ducknimblyunderhisarm'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Threaten him.' 'threatenhim'>><<setcompassionate -2>><</link>></li> </ul>

The man curses as you muscle past him and take swift steps down the darkened entryway. <<include "thievesden2">>

The man's will buckles under yours like so much soggy paper before the rain. He looks away and mutters, "It's your funeral, then." <<include "thievesden2">>

The man curses as you deftly dodge him and take swift steps down the darkened entryway. <<include "thievesden2">>

"Get out of my way before I gut you," you tell him calmly. The man's face drains of blood as his arm falls away to his side. "It's your funeral, then," he mutters, looking away as you stride past. He turns on his heel and follows you closely as you make your way down the darkened entryway. <<include "thievesden2">>

You don't give anyone time to react or block you further as you <<nobr>><<if $strength gt $magic>> kick the rusty metal doorway open, <<else>> lay your palm on the rusty metal doorway and cause the inner locks to fall open, <</if>><</nobr>>revealing an immense and cavernous warehouse within. Stepping inside, you notice mountains of crates and chests piled high, almost to the ceiling; rich tapestries, furs, and rugs line the dusty concrete floor, and sitting at a table in the middle of it all is a group of people, numbering maybe two dozen, bent together over a series of schematics. One of them is the thief who stole your medallion. "Oh," he says, looking up from the table as casually as if you were delivering food. "It's you." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Storm towards him. "Yes," you say menacingly. "It\'s me."' 'thievesden3'>><<setcompassionate -2>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Stalk towards him with your fists on your hips. "Where\'s my medallion?"' 'thievesden3'>><<setchase +1>><</link>></li> <<fake_choice "Approach him silently." "thievesden3">> </ul>

However, you don't make it five steps before the group at the table draws on you. Suddenly a dozen guns are pointed your way—as well as plenty of knives. "I tried to stop $them, boss," the man from the doorway pants behind you. The thief who stole your medallion turns to the sentry with a comically-unimpressed look. "Rafe," he says, "I thought you'd do a better job than that. What kind of sentry lets any pretty face just barge in on us like that?" Ignoring the protests of the guard, he casts an interested glance over to you. "No matter how pretty that face may be." His look turns serious again as he frowns at Rafe. "What if <<print $she>>'d been a Vice Guard? Or worse—one of those merchant rats?" <<nobr>><<if $plural is true>> "<i>Are</i> $she, Chase?" a slender dark-haired woman demands from the thief's side. "A merchant or a Vice Guard?" <<else>> "<i>Is</i> $she, Chase?" a slender dark-haired woman demands from the thief's side. "A merchant or a Vice Guard?" <</if>><</nobr>> Chase shakes his head, his lips quirking wryly. "Not so much. Just a lost Shepherd coming to reclaim $her goods." He rises smoothly and saunters over to you, oblivious to the guns bristling all around you. "But you've found yourself in a den of snakes instead, haven't you, sunshine?" he asks quietly, his green eyes glinting mischievous and catlike in his tanned face. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "thievesden4">><</link>></center>

"Who are you people?" you ask, not to be intimidated by him. "Thieves Guild," Chase answers promptly, to the groans and sighs of the people around him. The woman who'd been at his side—a beautiful, hazel-eyed thief—cries, "You can't just keep telling people like that, you idiot!" Chase looks around innocently. "Why ever not? <<c she>><<nobr>><<if $plural is true>>'re not going to haul me off.<<else>>'s not going to haul me off.<</if>><</nobr>> Shepherds are only concerned with magic and demons, from what I hear. Besides, we're a perfectly legitimate guild, just like any other." You squint. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"How can that be true?"' 'thievesden5'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Stealing is illegal..."' 'thievesden5'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"The Autarch would never allow a Thieves Guild!"' 'thievesden5'>><<setloyal +2>><</link>></li> </ul>

Chase winks and taps his nose. "We pay our dues just like any other guild," he says. "…<i>Mostly</i> in the form of bribes and kickbacks to the Vice Guard, but it's money all the same. And we've got rules and structure just like any other guild. Thieves give a cut of their income into the guild's pot, just like merchants and artists do. Plus, we've got a nice little agreement with the Autarchy. What, you don't believe it?" At your skeptical look, he stretches his arms over his head. "We operate by a gentleman's code: no stealing from anyone who can't afford it, and even the ones who do get the chance to buy their stuff back. We don't kill if we can help it. We don't interfere with civvy life as much as possible… and we even muscle out other thieves. Can't have too much chaos interfering with business, after all." He grins, a white and sharp-looking smile. "Having us around is actually a benefit. We get rid of unaffiliated crime for them. Orderly illegality, nice and tidy, as it were." <<include "stealsteal">>

"Besides heists and pickpocketing?" Chase strokes his chin. "We've got our fingers in a lot of pots. Gambling, sharping, fencing, smuggling, information-gathering… " The dark-haired woman hisses in protest. "<i>Chase</i>!" Chase grins. "Guess I should shut up now." <<include "stealsteal">>

Chase beams. "Knew you'd see it our way, sunshine." <<include "thievesden6">>

Chase's smile doesn't falter. "Yeah, that's about the score of things," he says casually, stretching until his back pops. <<include "thievesden6">>

Chase laughs lightly. "Knew you were someone after my own heart, sunshine," he says. <<include "thievesden6">>

Before you can reply, a commotion back at the doorway draws your attention—along with the aim of the thieves' guns. Blade stalks through the hideout's entrance, glowering, with Trouble holding his own drawn pistol at his side. "<b>You</b>," Blade says, sweeping up to you with a glare. He seems heedless to everyone pointing weapons at him: it must run in the Order. "You abandoned your post. Why?" You can't help but stare at their sudden appearance. "Er…" Trouble's looking around the warehouse with interest. "Nice place you've got here," he says in a cavalier way. "I like the furs." Chase salutes. "Thank you kindly, friend. And who are you?" "Don't answer that," Blade snaps when Trouble opens his mouth. He looks at you. "<<c firstname>>. What's going on?" You quickly detail how this man, Chase—"Chase Trinaeste," he interrupts, "King of Crooks, Prince of Thieves, yada yada"— stole your sun medallion, and how you chased after him. And how this is apparently the hideout of Haven's Thieves Guild. Chase waits patiently as you make your explanation, even signaling to his thieves to lower their weapons and disperse back to their places around the warehouse, though they remain watchful and guarded. Once you're finished, Blade turns his dark eyes to the leader of the thieves and says, "I suspect I know why he wants your badge." "It's very shiny," Chase says airily, sticking his thumbs through his belt loops. "Looks nice." Trouble turns to you. "He stole from that caravan of merchants we saw back in the street. Cleaned them out, caused that big commotion. But they got one of his own during the raid, so he probably slipped that badge off your neck to impersonate a Shepherd later, sneak in, and break his girl out of jail." "First of all," Chase begins, raising his hand, "not my girl. One of my thieves, yes, but I'm a bachelor, thank you very much." He grins winningly at you. "Secondly, that's a very good guess. Pretty much spot-on, in fact. So will you let me use it? I'll give it right back." "No," Blade says flatly, putting his hand on the hilt of his sword. "You will return it." Chase's grin turns even sharper. "You can try and make me." "Also," Trouble says, turning to you as if none of this is happening, "we didn't just track you down out of luck. That merchant caravan they robbed belonged to the Merchants Guild, and their leader, Riel Syndran, is damn smart. He'd already figured out where this hideout is and sent us to, uh, retrieve you. They've been raiding his 'vans for weeks, bleeding the guild dry." You notice immediately that there's a drop in the temperature in the room at the mention of this merchant leader's name. The young woman who seems to be Chase's lieutenant or second-in-command says quietly, "You lot are buddy-buddy with that rat Riel?" You glance at Blade, whose face remains stony. "We aren't affiliated with Merchants Guild," he answers coolly. "Nor any guild." "That was our first time meeting him," Trouble adds. You turn back to Chase. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"What\'s your problem with him?"' 'thievesden7'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Why are you robbing his caravans? Aren\'t you more about heists and pickpocketing?"' 'thievesden7'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Chase watches you for a moment, idly twirling your sun medallion around and around on his finger. Finally he says, with an enigmatic smile: "You guys ever hear of Black Sun?" You stiffen at that, all the air seeming to rush out of the room. For a moment, no one speaks. Then you say, a bit mutedly, "What about it?" Chase scowls, a rare emotion on his generally-open and genial face. He looks like he wants to spit. "That Merchants Guild," he says. "And that Riel. They're responsible for bringing Black Sun into the city. <i>That's</i> why we've been robbing them—to disrupt their lines of supply. The more we keep them in chaos, the less of the drug they can peddle into the streets." "You're saying <i>Merchants Guild</i> is responsible for Black Sun?" Trouble echoes incredulously. "Can't be. Why would they do such a thing?" Chase shrugs. "Why does anyone ever do anything?" he asks. "Gold. Selling drugs is just as profitable as selling silks or honey. Who cares if it gets people sick, so long as they get their coin first? And you make addicts of your customers—they're always going to come back." "What's your proof of all this?" Blade asks then. "You say you've been robbing their caravans: have you found Black Sun there?" Chase grimaces. "Not yet," he admits. "We were sure they were smuggling it in with their rugs and furs, but… they're pretty clever. Their rat-leader Riel is smart. We thought robbing them would make their losses so great that they'd stop with the Black Sun. But it's still getting into the city somehow. Ari, what'd you have to say about it?" At this, his lieutenant slouches forward, looking reluctant to speak. At Chase's pointed look, she finally drawls, "One of our boys mugged a minister's aide. A little <i>persuasion</i> had the aide saying that his boss, the Minister of Trade, was funneling his money into Black Sun. And the Minister of Trade is sort of in charge of Merchants Guild, isn't he? And how else are you going to get it into the city in such large amounts, without anyone noticing? So… put two and two together. You get Black Sun coming in through the merchants." Chase scratches his cheek. "Yeah. That." <<include "chasemore">>

<ul class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("whydoesthievesguildeven")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Why does Thieves Guild even care about Black Sun, anyway?"</div>' 'whydoesthievesguildeven'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("ifthisbusinesstrademinister")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"If this business with the Trade Minister is true, why do you all hate the merchant leader Riel specifically?"</div>' 'ifthisbusinesstrademinister'>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link 'Finish up this discussion. You need your sun medallion back, after all. ' 'givememymedallion'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Chase makes a noise of incredulity. "You serious?" he asks. "For one thing, we all live in this city. It's not like we want it to become a den of soul-drained, drug-addicted ghouls. <i>Also</i>, it makes it very hard for us to make a living. We've got no one to rob, since they've spent all their money on Black Sun and then sit around, wasting away. Very bad for business." <<include "chasemore">>

"He's annoying as all get-out," Chase answers flippantly. "Foiling us at every turn, trying to outmaneuver us. Really quite irksome. And he's a hoity-toity kiss-ass." "And he's caught one of our own," Ari, his lieutenant, adds, cleaning under her fingernails with her knife. "And he's <i>helping</i> the minister bring in Black Sun, so why would we like him?" She spits. "He's like every other oak, maid, and made man this side of the Naucharin." "Aye," Chase says wisely. <<include "chasemore">>

"This is all very well and good," you begin, "but I still need my medallion back." Chase makes a face. "Even after all that? Even if I need it to free one of my thieves from that nefarious druglord's prison?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Well..."' 'wellmedallion'>><<setblade -1>><<setloyal -3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Yes, I still need it back."' 'givememymedallion2'>><<setchase -1>><<setloyal +3>><</link>></li> </ul>

<<nobr>><<if $plural is true>> "Yes, $she still need it back," Blade raps out, after giving you a gimlet eye of disapproval. "Now." <<else>> "Yes, <<print $she>>s it back," Blade raps out, after giving you a gimlet eye of disapproval. "Now." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "givememymedallion2">>

Chase purses his lips in thought. "And if I refuse? As we've established, I've got about forty thieves holed up in this place—all of them pretty quick with a knife." As if on cue, Ari twirls her knife in a slow, lazy arc. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Light up some magic in a show of force.' 'givememymedallion3'>><<setmagic +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Look expectantly at Blade and Trouble.' 'lookexpectantlyatbladeandtrouble'>><<setblade +1>><<settrouble +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Then we wouldn\'t be able to be friends, would we? And that\'d be a shame."' 'givememymedallion3'>><<setcharisma +1>><<setchase +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

"I've got bombs," Trouble says at your look. "I've already thought of five different ways to kill everyone in this room," Blade adds coolly. <<include "givememymedallion3">>

<<set $medallion to true>>Chase laughs lightly. "I get your point," he says. Then, after just another moment's thought, he tosses the medallion your way. "Fine," the thief sighs, not sounding too put-out. "It was always a lark anyway, using it. It's not worth bloodshed. I suppose we'll have to find another way." He meets your eye, then cocks his head and grins. "We square?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Sure. We\'re square."' 'weresquare'>><<setcompassionate +3>><<setchase +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I forgive, but I don\'t forget."' 'iforgivebutdontforget'>><<setchase -1>><<setcompassionate -2>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'m never square with someone who steals from me."' 'imneversquarewithsomeone'>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setchase -3>><</link>></li> </ul>

Chase's eyes brighten. "Knew I liked something about you, gorgeous," he says with a wink. Then he flicks an airy salute at you and turns away. "I'll be seeing you around, then." <<include "outsidethieves">>

Chase smirks. "Suppose I can't blame you," he says with an airy shrug. Then he flicks you a salute and turns away. "Guess I'll be seeing you around." <<include "outsidethieves">>

Chase chuckles. "Whatever you say, sunshine," he answers airily. Then he flicks you a salute and turns away. "Maybe we'll cross paths again. Hopefully on better terms." <<include "outsidethieves">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "outsidethieves2">><</link>></center>

Outside of the thieves' den, Blade lets you have it. "You shouldn't have run off without telling us where you went," he scolds you, looking aggrieved. "And you definitely shouldn't have barged into a criminal hideout. You could have been hurt. Or killed." "Bit hypocritical, considering we just barged in right after you," Trouble comments, shrugging at Blade's scathing look. <<if $troublehate is false>>He ruffles your hair.<</if>> "We were worried about you, <<c halfname>>. Medal's not worth your life. I'm just glad it didn't go sideways—I wouldn't want to go toe-to-toe with that Chase guy. He smiles a lot, but his eyes tell a different story." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Apologize profusely.' 'apologizeprofusely'>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setcharisma +1>><<setblade +1>><<settrouble +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Remain professional. "I acted as I thought best. But it won\'t happen again."' 'remainprofessionaliacted'>><<setloyal +2>><<settrouble -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I can take care of myself, you know."' 'icantakecareofmyselfyouknow'>><<setloyal -10>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Nod and move on.' 'outsidethieves3'>><<setcharisma -1>><<setloyal -2>><</link>></li> </ul>

Eventually Blade only sighs in a world-weary fashion. "Just don't let it happen again," he says, pinching the bridge of his nose. But with that, it seems you're forgiven. "Translated, that means 'you damn near gave me a heart attack and aged me about five years,'" Trouble quips, grinning and locking his fingers behind his head. "But no harm done, eh?" You smile. <<include "outsidethieves3">>

Blade only nods, expression unreadable, while Trouble looks unimpressed by your distant attitude. "Fair enough," he says with a shrug. "No harm done, at least." You decide to change the subject. <<include "outsidethieves3">>

Trouble shakes his head. "Doesn't work that way," he says. "Not anymore, anyway. We're an order—a team. You can't just go gallivanting off on your own." Blade makes an irritated noise that you think expresses agreement. You decide to change the subject. <<include "outsidethieves3">>

"What did you think about what Chase said?" you ask them. "About Merchants Guild being involved with Black Sun?" "I mean, it doesn't sound that far out of the realm of possibility," Trouble says, glancing at Blade, who shrugs. "Riel Syndran, the leader of Merchants Guild, struck me as—well. Not exactly a man of integrity, but certainly someone too clever and too cautious to involve himself in the drug trade," your dark-haired commander notes. "But our introduction was fleeting. Still, on the other hand—the word of thieves does not go very far." "Don't you think we should investigate?" you ask. "If Merchants Guild—or a minister of the Autarch—is really involved with Black Sun… that's… alarming, to say the least." Blade makes a disgruntled noise. "Agreed," he answers darkly. "Yes, it warrants looking into. At worst it's an unfounded rumor, like all of our other leads. At best…" Trouble laughs without humor. "There's really no 'best', is there?" he asks. "We're dealing with a rampant drug problem that could be caused by a demon. A demon who could be involved with the most powerful group of merchants and traders in the Autarchy." "Let's just go talk to this Riel Syndran first," you propose. "And draw our conclusions then." The other two nod, and with that, you depart for the headquarters of the Merchants Guild. <<include "riel2">>

The offices of Riel Syndran, head of Merchants Guild, are as sumptuous a place as you've ever seen. The entire guild headquarters are stationed in a stately, gilded building near Haven's university, surrounded by manicured lawn sculptures, rich arcades and colonnades, and bustling merchants scurrying to and fro with bundles of goods. When you're invited inside by Riel's assistant, an enthusiastic pink-haired young woman named Aerin, you take note of the spotless checkerboard marble floors and the priceless art adorning the walls. Trouble gives a low whistle. "You could buy a house with that statue there," he says with a nod to a refined but incomplete-looking bust. Blade nudges him sharply. "Don't gawk," he says. Surprisingly, you don't have to wait long before Aerin ushers you into Riel's main office, announcing that Shepherd officers are there to see him. The man Riel is sitting behind a massive oak desk when you enter the room, closely examining something under a magnified looking glass. Dozens of voluminous books—all history chronicles, you note—line the shelves around him, and fine working tools are spread across his desk, each arranged according to size and utility. Although he's a young, slender man with a slight figure, the merchant leader seems larger than life in his expensive, sober suit and with the gold-tipped walking cane resting near his hand: the head of it is shaped in the likeness of a rat, the symbol of the Merchants Guild. Riel himself is pale and fine-boned, his face thin and severe and his ice-blue eyes bright and alert, though the dark, almost bruise-like smudges under them denote a decided lack of sleep. His dark hair is slicked ruthlessly back, and the fingers examining the object of his interest are slim and neat: a scholar's hands, delicate and precise. In fact, everything about him seems pin-neat, so impeccable and sharp his figure almost seems to cut the eye. He glances up as you approach the desk, and his blue eyes seem to pierce you down to your spine. The merchant leader rises smoothly and sweeps a formal bow, a gesture of polite greeting among equals. "Welcome," Riel says. He glances at Blade and Trouble. "I wasn't expecting to see you again so soon." His tone is light and crisp; despite the bow, he does not come around the desk to shake your hands, which is generally customary among Norms. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Go around his desk to shake his hand.' 'goaroundhisdesk'>><<setriel -3>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Sweep an equally-polite bow.' 'sweepanequallypolite'>><<setriel +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Sweep an even deeper bow as a show of deference.' 'sweepanevendeeperbow'>><<if $charisma lt 20 or $compassionate lt 50>><<setriel -1>><</if>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Give him a bow, but a shallower one, to show that you\'re the one in control.' 'givehimabowbutashallower'>><<setloyal -2>><<setcunning +2>><<if $cunning gte 30>><<setriel +1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Don\'t do anything at all.' 'dontdoanythingatall'>><<setcharisma -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Riel recoils slightly when you reach to touch him. "That's quite all right," he says smoothly, though it's clear he wants nothing to do with your handshake. "Please, have a seat." <<include "riel4">>

Riel inclines his head: the whole exchange is very ceremonial in tone. Then he gestures to the plush chairs situated in front of his desk. "Please, have a seat." <<include "riel4">>

Riel's lips twitch at your display, but he doesn't comment on it. He gestures to the plush chairs situated in front of his desk. "Please, have a seat." <<include "riel4">>

Riel doesn't bat an eye at your display. He gestures to the plush chairs situated in front of his desk. "Please, have a seat." <<include "riel4">>

Riel doesn't bat an eye at your refusal to bow. He gestures to the plush hairs situated in front of his desk. "Please, have a seat." <<include "riel4">>

Once you're all situated and introduced, Riel steeples his fingers and regards you all with a thoughtful look. "Well, now," he says. "To what do I owe this pleasure? It's not often the Merchants Guild receives a visit from the esteemed Shepherds." There's no sarcasm in his voice, but you're on your guard. Chase told you this man is likely directly involved with the peddling of Black Sun through Haven. You can't come right out and accuse him, so you say, as you and the others had agreed upon: "We're here to talk about the thief you captured earlier. The one who took part in the raid on your caravan." "Ah." Riel purses his lips, glancing at your two teammates. "It was Commander Bronwyn and Vice-Commander Alder who helped capture her, actually. We've turned the woman over to the Vice Guard, and they are detaining her until I get the chance to go in for an interrogation." He glances around at your faces. "Is there a reason behind your order's renewed interest in her? You seemed happy enough to give her over to our custody. She's not cavorting with Endarkened, is she?" "Why do you think the Thieves Guild is raiding your wares?" Blade asks, ignoring the question. Riel's face takes on a prim look of supreme disapproval. "That's what I hope to find out through my interrogation," he states. "But…" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Press him. "But...?"' 'rielno2'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Wait for him to finish his thought.' 'rielno2'>><<setriel +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

"But," Riel continues slowly, "—and I suppose I can disclose this to you, being that you are officers of the law—we suspect that Thieves Guild is involved with a new drug circulating through the city. A vile soporific called Black Sun. And I want to learn how to stop it." Trouble clamps his lips together, and you can't tell if he's straining to keep from shouting or laughing. You lean forward and say, "Black Sun? What makes you think Thieves Guild has anything to do with it?" Riel looks grave. "They're criminals, for a start," he answers. "They make their living profiting from other people's misfortune and misery. Theft of others' property is one step; peddling drugs does not seem so far off. Besides, who else has the necessary criminal connections to create it? To transport it? They're an organization dedicated to fencing and trafficking illegal contraband. Of course they'd be the ones smuggling it into the city." When you open your mouth to protest, he interrupts: "And if that wasn't damning enough: they've been disrupting trade by raiding our caravans, the incontrovertible evidence of which lies in the Vice Guard's jail right now. While we've had run-ins with them before, this is on an unprecedented scale; and it exactly coincides with Black Sun's arrival to our city. I have theories they're using the profits from our stolen wares to buy or produce more of the drug." "Why, though?" Trouble asks. "Seems a bit—off-the-rails, even for Thieves Guild. They like to make money, not zombify poor souls and get them addicted to random slag." "Do you have any other proof?" you add. "Aside from their sudden raids on our caravans matching up exactly with the arrival of Black Sun to the city?" Riel drawls. "Yes: I have informants who claim that the supply of the drug moving through the city originates from the river docks. From a factory very, very close to where the Thieves Guild hideout lies, in fact." He gives you a pointed look. "All of that evidence stacked up together points to one obvious conclusion, wouldn't you say?" You, Blade, and Trouble all glance at each other. "Well, it's funny you should say that…" you begin slowly, "…because we've heard that it's <i>you</i> who has a connection to Black Sun. Not Thieves Guild." Riel's eyes widen; it briefly gives him the look of a startled owl, and you get the feeling that he's not a man who is often surprised. Then his gaze narrows, his considerable regard focusing until it rests on you, scalpel-like, and he leans forward intently. "What do you mean? And where did you hear this… allegation?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"We heard it from Thieves Guild."' 'wehearditthievesguild'>><<setcourage +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"It doesn\'t matter where we heard it from. Is it true?"' 'itdoesntmatterwhere'>><<setriel -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Riel shakes his head. "That's ridiculous," he says adamantly. "And an obvious smokescreen. Why on earth would we sell Black Sun?" <<include "rielno3">>

Riel shakes his head. "No," he says adamantly. "<i>No</i>. Why on earth would we sell Black Sun?" <<include "rielno3">>

"For profit?" Trouble offers. "Which is sort of what you guys are all about?" "We've also heard that the Minister of Trade is funding the creation and transport of the drug," you tell him. "And since the Minister of Trade has some connection to you…" Riel's frown is deeply concerned. "He works closely with us," he concedes, "and he supervises and monitors our activities, just as the Sun Court monitor yours. But, like you and the Sun Court, we are fundamentally separate entities. He has no say in our active decisions: he is more of a check, a safeguard, to ensure that we abide by his regulations." Then he shakes his head. "But to claim that he would have anything to do with Black Sun is—beyond the pale. It's a preposterous accusation!" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"As preposterous as Thieves Guild making Black Sun in a factory and then raiding your wares for funds to make more?"' 'aspreposterousasthievesguild'>><<setriel -1>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link "'We must be missing something. None of it makes any sense.'" 'wemustbemissingsomething'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Riel looks miffed by your implication. "I imagine a group of known and stated criminals manufacturing an illegal drug with stolen gold is somewhat more believable than a high-ranking politician doing so," he says coolly. "But perhaps I am alone in that assumption." "It doesn't add up," Blade says then, sounding irritable. "Thieves Guild blames you. You blame Thieves Guild. Who is to be believed?" <<include "rielno4">>

"Thieves Guild thinks you're making Black Sun," Trouble says. "You think they are. Who's right?" <<include "rielno4">>

"I don't know," Riel murmurs, looking like he's sliding into deep thought. Then he looks up at you with renewed sharpness. "Why are the Shepherds investigating this, anyway? Is this even within your purview?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Tell him you suspect Black Sun has ties to a Faceless Lord.' 'tellhimyoususpectblacksun'>><<setriel +1>><<setloyal +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Say nothing.' 'saynothingtoriel'>><<setriel -1>><<setloyal -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Riel's pale face grows even paler as you explain the nature of your findings. "I don't doubt it," he says slowly, "and, in fact, I had begun to suspect something of the sort myself... but still, I have to pray you are wrong." <<include "rielno5">>

Riel watches you for another instant, and you can see the very gears turning in his mind as he works to piece things together on his own. "The drug must have something to do with Endarkened," he concludes after a moment, speaking almost to himself. "Maybe an Endarkened made it, or is controlling the ones who do. A powerful Endarkened, too, if the commander of the Shepherds himself is looking into it; you're not that short-handed… So. A Cacophant, perhaps, or even one of the mythical Faceless Lords?" You say nothing, but you don't miss how Trouble grimaces ruefully. <<include "rielno5">>

Suddenly the merchant leader gets up and begins to pace. Looking at him, you feel quite sure that he doesn't have anything to do with Black Sun… but does the Minister of Trade? You ask him so, and Riel frowns. "I'm not sure," he murmurs, picking invisible lint off his sleeves as he thinks. "Now that you say it, his behavior has seemed—erratic lately. Prone to fits of pique. I thought it was stress from his recent nuptials: there was an attack during his wedding, some deaths… But…" He trails off. "I suppose, yes, conceivably, he could be channeling personal funds into… <i>less than savory</i> endeavors. No one audits <i>his</i> finances, as he is a Sun Courtier; only the Autarch has that power, and she is too ill to bother… Though for what purpose he'd be doing any of this, I have no idea. But if Endarkened are involved…" Again he trails off. His line of thought seems to be skipping ahead almost too quickly for you to keep up. Then he looks back at you. "But my contacts were sure Black Sun was being made in Ashtown. Near the thieves." "I mean, it could still be made in that factory," Trouble butts in. "Just because the Minister is funding the whole thing, doesn't mean someone else isn't making it with his gold. But where does that leave us?" You all fall silent at that. When it seems there's nothing else to say, Riel glances up again, looking pale and troubled. "You've given me much to think about," he says, standing to escort you from his office. "Thank you. I will… evaluate my options, and contact you if I make any further discoveries." Then he looks once more into your face. "Be careful out there." The door clicks shut behind you with the heavy sound of a swinging bank vault. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "decisiontime">><</link>></center>

Outside, Trouble lets loose a groan of frustration. "God's teeth," he gripes, looking at the chilly, lemon-colored sun as it begins to sag towards the horizon. "We're no closer to figuring this mess out than we were before!" Blade sighs and rubs his temples as if he feels a headache coming on. "Thieves Guild thinks Merchants Guild is funding Black Sun's creation and smuggling it in through their caravans, and Merchants Guild thinks Thieves Guild is producing Black Sun here in the city and raiding their caravans to fund it. Who's telling the truth?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I think Thieves Guild is telling the truth."' 'ithinkthievesguildtellingtruth'>><<setchase +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I think Merchants Guild is telling the truth."' 'ithinkmerchantsguildtellingtruth'>><<setriel +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I think they\'re both telling the truth."' 'ithinkbothtellingtruth'>><<setintelligence +3>><</link>></li> </ul>

"Their leader, Chase, seems… straightforward," you note. "I never got the feeling he was lying." "Neither did I," Trouble chimes in. You smile at him, then shake your head. "It really doesn't seem like Thieves Guild would stand to gain from harming people with drugs." "Unless that's what he wants you to think," Blade grumbles. <<include "decisiontime2">>

"Their leader, Riel, seems upright and intelligent… but not manipulative. I never got the sense that he was lying," you say. Blade shakes his head. "Nor did I," he agrees. "I also don't see the long-term benefit the Merchants Guild would gain in selling a drug that would ultimately harm their other businesses. It's killing their customers off." "Unless that's just what the guy wants you to think," Trouble grumbles. <<include "decisiontime2">>

"I didn't sense a lie from either of them," you admit. Blade sighs and rubs his temples harder. "Neither did I," he says reluctantly. "While neither of their leaders are completely transparent, in this, I sensed that both seemed to be telling the truth. Or <i>believed</i> they were telling the truth." Trouble runs a hand through his golden hair. "You don't think they're ignoring a third party, do you?" he asks. "Blaming each other because of bad blood, blinded to whatever else is going on?" You sigh. "That very well could be it. It's the tale of our times, really…" <<include "decisiontime2">>

You all fall silent again at that. "Well," Blade finally says in his clipped way, "we know we have two leads, regardless of which party may or may not be responsible. The factory by the docks in Ashtown, where the Black Sun is supposedly being made, and the Minister of Trade, who is supposedly funding the drug." He glances at you. "The question is: which of those places do we start hunting for a Faceless Lord?" You think on it. You would investigate… <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'The Minister of Trade with Riel.' 'rielprepgala'>><<set $rieljoin to true>><<setriel +12>><<set $rielinvestigation to true>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'The Black Sun factory with Chase.' 'chaseprepraid'>><<set $chasejoin to true>><<setchase +12>><<set $chaseinvestigation to true>><</link>></li> </ul>

"<i>Siktir Lan</i>," you curse, turning and shouldering your way through the gathering crowd. You need to tell the others about this right away! You finally emerge from the milieu to find Blade and Trouble standing at the front of a line of wagons, talking to a slim young man dressed in a sober, expensive suit and holding a gold-tipped walking cane bearing the insignia of a rat—the symbol of the Merchants Guild. The man is pale and fine-boned, his face thin and severe and his ice-blue eyes bright and alert, though the purplish, almost bruise-like circles beneath them denote a decided lack of sleep. His dark hair is slicked ruthlessly back, and the fingers resting on the head of the cane are slim and neat: a scholar's hands, delicate and precise. He has somewhat of an over-alert energy about him, one of almost feverish intelligence, but his expression remains cool and intelligent. When he speaks, he speaks in articulate, measured tones. Nearby, other merchants are wrestling a thin, snarling girl into stocks. Although she's gagged, she stares at Blade and Trouble with unmeasured vitriol. "This is the fifth raid in as many sennights," you hear the young man saying as you approach. His voice is light and crisp, almost prim, but you can sense a steely, unshakable authority behind it. "And this is the first time we've managed to catch any of the thieves. I have to thank you, Commander, Vice-Commander, for your help in catching this… miscreant. I'll be turning her over to the Vice Guard for interrogation." "Miscreant's a word for it," Trouble says ruefully, rubbing his jaw. "Gal's got one hael of a haymaker." "The Vice Guard's idea of interrogation tends to be torture," Blade points out. "They're not a delicate bunch." The man lifts his fine chin. "So be it." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Interrupt their conversation. This can\'t wait.' 'interrupttheirconversation'>><<setriel -1>><<setcourage +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Watch and wait until their discussion is done.' 'watchandwaituntildiscussion'>><<setriel +3>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

"I was robbed," you blurt, watching as the gazes of all three men swing to you. Trouble's mouth slackens, but before either he or Blade can say anything, the slender man intercedes. "Who was it?" he asks in a clipped, brisk voice. "What did he look like?" You think about it. "A young Norm man. He had… brown hair, green eyes. A long dark coat." "Ah," the man says grimly. He turns back to Trouble and Blade, though you don't miss how his blue eyes assess you. "Their leader, Chase Trinaeste. You just missed him." "What did he steal?" Blade asks you. "Did he hurt you?" You shake your head, wincing. "Nothing's injured but my pride. And… he stole my sun medallion." Blade's nostrils flare as Trouble whistles lowly, to the tune of "<i>I would hate to be you</i>." You scratch the back of your neck as the dark-haired merchant looks at all three of you, then murmurs, "That's not good." <<include "merchantsguild2">>

Blade's eyes flick to you, but he continues the conversation. "I don't bring it up as a matter of squeamishness, guildmaster, but of practicality. The Vice Guard will likely kill her before extracting any useful information," he says, as if he were discussing the weather. "You'd be better off imprisoning her and conducting the interrogation yourself." The man seems to consider this. "Too great a risk," he says finally. "There's nowhere I could hold her that would be secure enough to keep their leader out. He once robbed a foreign queen in the street without even touching her, or so the rumors go. My pride bridles to admit it, but if he wanted to, he could likely slip past my physical defenses quite easily. She'll have to go in the Vice Guard's jail—though perhaps they will permit me to question her in their stead." Finally they turn to you, the merchant's expression expectant. Trouble says, "What is it, <<c halfname>>?" You cough. "Well…" Once you're done explaining, their expressions are grave. "That must have been their leader, Chase Trinaeste," the young man says grimly. He drums his fingers across the head of his cane. "Haven's greatest rogue and scoundrel. It's sheer misfortune that you ran into him." Blade's nostrils flare with irritation, but he says, "It's good that you're unhurt, <<c surname>>. And that you didn't take off running after him like a fool." <<include "merchantsguild2">>

Before you can reply, another merchant from the caravan arrives, this one looking flushed and agitated. To your surprise she seems to be a Mage, a smaller woman with angry green eyes that sport the <i>iladrin</i>. Her light pink hair is cut in a messy bob, and her wrists jangle with exotic-looking bracelets. "Something needs to be done about that man, Riel," she hisses, not seeming to notice the huddle of Shepherds blocking the roadway. "If those thieves keep raiding our 'vans—we might lose this branch of Merchants Guild!" "Nothing so extreme as that, Aerin," the man called Riel intones, pivoting on his cane. "Try not to lose your composure. It's unseemly." "But our funds—" she says anxiously. "We will recover them," Riel insists, the picture of calm. "We know where their hideout is, and we've captured one of their members. Once she gives us the information we need, we can put a stop to Black Sun for good. From there, we can starve them." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "merchantsguild3">><</link>></center>

"Hold a moment," Trouble says sharply, just as you echo, "Black Sun?" Riel's ice-blue eyes flick to you. "I'm sure you've heard of it," he says dryly. "It's been the plague of our fair city for weeks. A vile soporific that replaces feelings of pain with pleasure, unpleasant memories with a sense of false peace… It's slowly killing the population of Haven." "But what does that have to do with the Thieves Guild?" you ask him. He shrugs: even that gesture looks elegant and proper on him. "Isn't it obvious?" he asks. "Thieves Guild is the one who has been smuggling it into the city. Who else has the necessary criminal connections to create it? To transport it? They're an organization dedicated to fencing and smuggling illegal contraband, after all." "What's more," the woman called Aerin interjects, "is that they've been disrupting trade by raiding <i>our</i> caravans—and using the profits from our stolen wares to buy more Black Sun!" You feel a headache coming on. "I think you'd better start from the beginning," you tell them. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "merchantsguild4">><</link>></center>

Riel sighs and says: "Very well. To give you an oversight, the Merchants Guild and Thieves Guild have always been at odds, ever since their inceptions five hundred years ago. The term 'guild' when applied to thieves, of course, is a farce—a mockery meant to imitate and insult the very groups they love to prey upon." "The Thieves Guild isn't a real guild?" you ask. Riel looks disdainful. "Of course not," he answers. "A guild is a formalized group that offers protection, training, and privileges to its due-paying members. It must be registered with the Sun Court and is subject to that supervising power's regulations and decrees, paying taxes in order to operate as a recognized entity within the Autarchy. You think a group of criminals pays taxes to the Autarch? With their stolen contraband?" Aerin laughs at the very thought. You shake your head; the merchants clearly loathe the Thieves Guild with all their being. "All right," you say. "So they're not a real guild, but they call themselves that. And you say that you've always been at odds with them." "Yes," Riel says, with a tinge of haughtiness. "They're a blight upon Haven. Little better than a gang with an overwrought name, they gather together and plot ventures, raids, and robberies that would be too ambitious for any one thief to accomplish. If they succeed using their numbers and cunning, they divide the treasure amongst themselves. That is the nature of their 'guild.' It's a mockery, just like everything they do, and I find it repulsive—another display of their parasitic nature." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I don\'t know, it sounds pretty clever to me."' 'idontknowitsounds'>><<setriel -3>><<settrouble +1>><<setloyal -3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I completely agree. They\'re nothing more than a racket of criminals!"' 'completelytheyrearacket'>><<setriel +3>><<setblade +1>><<setloyal +3>><</link>></li> </ul>

Trouble nods. "If I'd known that was what they were doing, <i>I</i> probably would have fallen in with them long ago. I'd always heard they were a rough bunch, but it sounds like a cushy gig." Riel stares at him in horror. "You're a Shepherd," he says, sternly. "Sworn to uphold justice." Trouble shrugs. "I'm talking about <i>before</i>, mate," he answers. "We've all got to survive somehow." Riel's nostrils flare again. "The majority of us are able to survive without resorting to stealing from others." <<include "rielmoreee">>

"Precisely," Riel says, inclining his head. "They should be excised from Haven like the cancerous growth they are." <<include "rielmoreee">>

Then he shakes his head. "This is neither here nor there. In the past, the Thieves Guild has always preyed upon the more honest efforts of the Merchants Guild, but never to any noteworthy extent: they target just about anybody in the city, from the wealthiest nobleman to the humblest jeweler. The bad blood between us has largely been rooted in historical vendettas, in past grudges allowed to simmer. But in the past few sennights, their attacks on Merchants Guild caravans have suddenly increased tenfold. And we suspect it's due to the presence of Black Sun in the city. The timing lines up exactly—the raids only started when Black Sun appeared—and it would make sense for them to use the funds from our stolen goods to fuel their production of the drug." "Why, though?" Trouble asks. "Seems a bit—off-the-rails, even for Thieves Guild. They like to make money, not zombify poor souls and get them addicted to random slag." Riel waves his hand dismissively. "They're criminals," he answers. "Isn't that all that needs to be said? They make their living profiting from other people's misfortune and misery. Theft of others' property is one step; the peddling of drugs does not seem so far off." Trouble's face hardens. "Lots of people could say the same about Merchants Guild," he says roughly. "And not all people who resort to crime are evil, you know. Some are just poor and desperate." Aerin, the pink-haired Mage merchant, looks unimpressed. "Not these villains," she answers. "Our guildmaster has proof of what they're doing—don't you, Riel?" "Aside from their sudden raids on our caravans matching up with the exact arrival of Black Sun?" Riel drawls. "Yes: I also have informants who claim that the supply of the drug moving through the city originates from the river docks. Very close to where the Thieves Guild hideout lies, in fact." He glances at you pointedly. "All of that evidence stacked together points to a fairly compelling conclusion, wouldn't you agree?" Trouble frowns as you and Blade exchange thoughtful looks. That is pretty interesting evidence… "And if we had the manpower to stop them, we'd have raided their headquarters and reclaimed our things long ago," Aerin continues. "But they're armed to the teeth, and we're only merchants. Vice Guard is most likely in their pockets—what with bribes, and all. And no one else is of any help in this situation." She huffs angrily. "Even though our guildmaster here has figured out where their hideout is, he can't guess at all the defense measures they might have. He's hoping to interrogate that lady we caught and find out some information that can get us in without our people getting killed." At this, an idea seems to spark in Riel's mind; you see it in the way he suddenly tenses, and his eyes alight with a muted spark of excitement. But when he turns to you, his expression is smoothed into one of polite indifference. "Perhaps," he drawls, "these brave Shepherds might perform the deed for us." "You mistake us for mercenaries," Blade says then, flatly. "We're not dogs to be sent on a personal hunt." Riel raises a thin brow. "Not even to reclaim your lost medallion?" <<include "rielrile">>

Riel snorts. "I'm sure you can," he says, "after you inform the Autarch that you lost the symbol of her authority—a free pass throughout all the Continent—to a common thief. And I shudder to think what havoc a man like that could wreak with it in the meantime." <<include "rielrile">>

Riel smiles thinly. "A simple trade," he says. "The location of the Thieves' hideout, so you can retrieve your sun medallion… and in exchange, I only ask that you find a way to stop the thieves from creating more Black Sun." "And reclaim our stolen wares," Aerin blurts, but Riel waves her into silence. Blade looks annoyed. "We could simply find the hideout without you," he asserts. Riel's smile grows wider. "If it were so easy," he answers silkily, "it would not be the lair of the greatest criminal network this side of Southern Crescent." There's a silent beat as you all consider this. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Well, we do need the medallion back..."' 'wellwedoneedmedallion'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"We need to investigate, anyway. If Thieves Guild really has something to do with Black Sun..."' 'weneedtoinvestigateanyway'>><</link>></li> </ul>

"And we can find out if Thieves Guild really is behind Black Sun," Trouble adds. Blade huffs. "Black Sun does make it a Shepherd matter," he grudgingly concedes. "And I can't even imagine what chaos a criminal organization would wreak with that medallion, especially if they're involved in the drug's creation." He turns to Riel with a glare. "Fine, then. If we uncover any evidence of Black Sun, we'll find a way to stop Thieves Guild. Then you can take back your wares. But if there's no such evidence, you're on your own. It's not something I'm going to put manpower into pursuing further if it turns out to be a dead end for us." Riel looks very satisfied. He picks a bit of invisible lint off his sleeve and says drolly: "It won't be. And: we have a deal." <<include "rielwarning">>

Blade huffs. "We're obligated to look into it," he agrees grudgingly. "It would be our first meaningful lead in several days." Then he turns to Riel with a glare. "Fine, then. If we uncover any evidence of the drug, we'll find a way to stop Thieves Guild. Then you can take back your wares. But if there's no such evidence, you're on your own. It's not something I'm going to put more manpower into pursuing if it turns out to be a dead end for us." Riel looks very satisfied. He picks a bit of invisible lint off his sleeve and says drolly: "It won't be. And: we have a deal." <<include "rielwarning">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "rielwarning2">><</link>></center>

After he provides you with the instructions on how to reach the thieves' hideout—a hidden warehouse in the river district, which you never would have been able to find on your own—Riel imparts you with one last warning. "Be careful," he says as you turn to depart. "The thieves have their own language—the rogue's cant, a kind of street talk. Their words will often have double-meanings, significances that you won't know. And they're skilled liars and con artists. Don't fall for their tricks, and don't promise anything you can't give." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "chase2">><</link>></center>

You make your way to Ashtown, following Riel's instructions to an innocuous-looking storehouse tucked into a row of innocuous-looking storehouses. This part of the warehouse district is particularly sleazy, bordering the wide canal that flows from the top of the city all the way down to the valley of the Sun's Embrace. The air here smells of peat, salt, and fish, and the curious eyes of workers follow you as you make your way past river barges and punts being loaded with cargo. You can't help but feel relieved that you're coming here with Blade and Trouble at your side. The door that you need to enter is guarded by a single sentry, a scruffy man with lanky brown hair falling down to his shoulders. He flicks a look at your uniforms and growls, "Place is closed." <ul class="choices"> <<if $compassionate lte 45 and $strength gte 10>><li><<link 'Punch him in the throat and storm the entryway.' 'punchhiminthethroatandstorm'>><<setstrength +1>><<setcompassionate -5>><</link>></li><<else>><<disabled "Punch him in the throat and storm the entryway.">><</if>> <li><<link 'Let Blade and Trouble handle this.' 'letbladeandtroublehandle'>><<setblade +1>><<settrouble +1>><<setloyal +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Draw your weapon and threaten him.' 'drawyourweaponandthreaten'>><<setcompassionate -2>><<if $mainweapon is "sword">><<setsword +1>><<elseif $mainweapon is "gun">><<setgun +1>><<elseif $mainweapon is "bow">><<setbow +1>><<elseif $mainweapon is "dagger">><<setdagger +1>><</if>><</link>></li> <<if $specialization is "enchanter" or $psionic gte 25>><li><<link 'Look him in the eyes with the full force of your magic and force him to yield.' 'lookhimintheeyeswiththefull'>><<setmagic +1>><<setpsionic +1>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li><<else>><<disabled "Look in the eyes with the full force of your magic and force him to yield.">><</if>> </ul>

The man crumples in a heap to the ground, clutching his throat and wheezing for breath, and Trouble whistles as you troop past him. "Damn, <<c firstname>>." Blade says nothing, but he looks like he might vaguely approve of your efficiency. <<include "chase3">>

Before the man can say anything else, Blade reaches out a hand and lightly presses his thumb against a pressure point in the man's throat. He doesn't say anything as Trouble comments genially, "This is really not a fight you want to get involved in, buddy. We'll let your boss know you did your best." The man's eyes bulge as he feels the pressure on his neck increase ever so imperceptibly. One look at Blade's too-dark eyes has him nodding and jerking his head to go through as he gasps like a fish. You nod at him as the three of you file past. "Thanks." <<include "chase3">>

The color drains from the man's face as you draw on him in grim silence. His eyes dart from your weapon to your steely gaze, your silent demand. Finally his lips part, and he says airlessly, "…Go on, then. Not about to die today." You put your weapon away and nod at him as the three of you file past. "Thanks." <<include "chase3">>

The man's will crumbles before you like a wall of paper before a storm. His eyes deaden and his jaw slackens and he murmurs, "…Go ahead." He offers no resistance as the three of you silently file past him, Trouble and Blade looking vaguely impressed by your skill. <<include "chase3">>

You undo the thick latches of the rusted metal door leading to the Thieves Guild hideout, revealing an immense and cavernous warehouse within. Stepping cautiously inside, you notice mountains of crates and chests piled high, almost to the ceiling; rich tapestries, furs, and rugs line the dusty concrete floor, and sitting at a table in the middle of it all is a group of people, numbering maybe two dozen, bent together over a series of schematics. One of them is the thief who stole your medallion. "Oh," he says, looking up from the table as casually as if you were delivering food. "It's you." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Storm towards him. "Yes," you say menacingly. "It\'s me."' 'chase4'>><<setcompassionate -2>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Stalk towards him with your fists on your hips. "Where\'s my medallion?"' 'chase4'>><<setchase +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You\'re all under arrest!"' 'chase4'>><<setloyal +2>><<setblade -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

<<set $blueprint1 to true>>However, you don't make it five steps before the group at the table draws on you. Suddenly a dozen guns are pointed your way—as well as plenty of knives. Blade has already drawn his sword and Trouble his rifle; you reach for your magic, but Chase Trinaeste is putting up his hand and motioning for his thieves to lower their weapons. He's a spry, slinky kind of man, with a lolling, nonchalant stance, a lithe, acrobatic build, and sly, catlike green eyes set in a tanned face. Although he doesn't look as physically-powerful as Blade or Trouble, he looks incredibly quick on his feet—and his belt is outfitted with all manner of glittering weapons, none of which look completely decorative. But he's grinning at you, as if vastly amused by your appearance in his hideout, and he says cheerfully, "Here to take us to the gallows?" A slim dark-haired woman standing behind him looks at him sharply. "Chase!" Chase shrugs her off with an easy grin. "What? It's a valid question. I'm curious if Shepherds have the authority to arrest us. I'm not a demon, am I? So what are they going to do?" He turns back to you, and his gaze is interested and curious as he pads closer. This close, you can smell the amber scent of his sleek jacket, the pomade in his tousled brown hair. He doesn't seem angry about your interruption in the slightest; only intrigued. "Well, well, well," he murmurs, more quietly. "The gorgeous Shepherd from the market. How ever did a lost lamb like you find your way to this den of wolves?" You raise your chin. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"You really think you could get away from me?"' 'youreallythinkyoucouldgetaway'>><<setchase +1>><<setcourage +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"A contact told us where you were."' 'acontacttolduswhere'>><<setchase -1>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li> <<if $compassionate lte 48>><li><<link '"Maybe it\'s me who\'s the wolf."' 'maybeitsmewhosthewolf'>><<setcompassionate -2>><</link>></li><<else>><<disabled '"Maybe it\'s me who\'s the wolf."'>><</if>> </ul>

Chase winks at you. "I'd never dream of it, gorgeous." <<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 4>> A disapproving snort from Blade draws his attention back to your friends, and he straightens. <<elseif $troubleromanceflag gte 4>> A cough from Trouble draws his attention back to your friends, and he straightens. <</if>> <<if $attractedto is "women" or $aroace is true or $aro is true or $ace is true>> <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"You\'re barking up the wrong tree, friend."' 'yourebarkingupthewrongtree'>><<set $chaseromanceflag to 0>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Roll your eyes at him.' 'rollyoureyesathim'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Fuck off. Not interested."' 'fuckoffchase'>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setchase -10>><<set $chaseromanceflag to 0>><<setcharisma -10>><</link>></li> </ul> <<else>> You stare at him defiantly. You're not going to react to his flirtations… are you? <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Well...' 'rollyoureyesathim'>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 2>><<setloyal -1>><<setblade -1>><<if $troubleromanceflag gte 4>><<set $troubleromanceflag -= 1>><</if>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 4>><<set $bladeromanceflag -= 2>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Maybe in another context, but right now, I\'m all business.' 'rollyoureyesathim'>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>><<setloyal +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Hell no! I want my medallion back!' 'rollyoureyesathim'>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 4 or $blade gte 40>><<setblade +1>><</if>><</link>></li> </ul> <</if>><</nobr>>

He blinks. "That's great, but I'm not—oh." Then he smiles easily. "I flirt with everyone, sunshine, but it's not a romantic thing. Just a way of talking, that's all. But I don't blame you for making sure I don't get the wrong idea." Trouble coughs, then, and he turns back to the matter at hand. <<include "chasecontcont">>

He raises his hands placatingly, but otherwise seems unfazed by your hostility. "Noted. Just a habit of mine to acknowledge objective fact, though, so don't take it as a sign of interest. Just my way of talking. Sorry if I offended, though." Then he turns away from you, his smile cool and easy. <<include "chasecontcont">>

Chase's mouth quirks at your expression. <<include "chasecontcont">>

Chase tips his head. "I bet I know who that contact would be," he says, looking unimpressed. Then he shrugs his shoulders. <<include "chasecontcont">>

Chase raises his eyebrows with a grin. "And do you bite, O Wolf?" You stare right back at him. "If you push your luck, maybe you'll find out." Chase laughs. <<include "chasecontcont">>

"Well, then, what's it going to be?" he asks you, in louder tones. "Aside from me taking your personal effects, which I'm sure is a matter we can resolve between us, the rest of the Guild's done you no harm. Are you going to duke it out with them, too?" "They can't take all of us," the dark-haired woman behind Chase drawls lazily. As if on cue, another thief begins to twirl his knife again. Blade's eyes go straight to them. "Care to wager on it?" he asks in a deceptively-light voice, flexing his hands. <<if $intelligence gte 20 or $cunning gte 20>> And you begin to feel a flaring of chilly power from him, like the air around him is flexing in the way a panther stretches before it readies itself for a hunt. There's an aura of expectant <i>readiness</i> to him, combat-alertness and arma beginning to kick itself into high gear. <</if>> The entire room tenses, as if the very walls were holding a breath. Even the woman, presumably Chase's lieutenant, looks hesitant. Then Chase wrinkles his nose playfully, holding up a hand to diffuse the tension. "Sorry, I don't gamble," he says, drawing everyone's attention back to him. "But I am being serious: it's mighty bold of you to storm this place all official-like, like police conducting a big raid. But this is a personal matter between me and that lovely Shepherd standing there in the middle, isn't it?" "Not exactly," you tell him. "We've also heard claims that your group has been committing some wrongdoings—to put it lightly. We're here to investigate those claims." Chase grins even wider, and now his smile seems a little dangerous, Cheshire-like. "Oh? And what claims would those be?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Someone has informed us that you are involved with the creation of Black Sun."' 'someonehasinformedusthatyou'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Someone has informed us that you are guilty of raiding the Merchants Guild caravans."' 'someoneinformedusguilty'>><</link>></li> </ul>

A chilly silence falls over the warehouse at that. Then, suddenly, Chase bursts out laughing. "Well, that's—a bold claim indeed," he says in an almost admiring tone. Blade arches a brow. "So you admit to it?" Chase signals to his thieves to disperse back to their places around the warehouse, maintaining his disarming smile. "Hael no," he answers easily—but somehow his smile doesn't reach his eyes. "But I think I'd better hear why you think that before we go any further." <<include "chasecontcont2">>

Chase's lieutenant laughs out loud, and even Chase's eyes quirk in amusement. "Well, yeah," he agrees easily. "That's no secret. Guilty as charged." He cocks his head at you. "But what do the Shepherds care about it? We're not Mages or Endarkened, and neither are the Merchants Guild. Is it really a Shepherd matter?" <<nobr>><<if $courage gte 30>> "It is if your raids have anything to do with Black Sun," you tell him boldly. "Seeing that Black Sun has an affiliation with demons." <<else>> "It is if your raids have anything to do with Black Sun," Trouble tells him boldly. "Seeing that Black Sun has some sort of affiliation with demons." <</if>><</nobr>> A chilly silence falls over the warehouse at that. Chase signals his thieves to disperse back to their places around the warehouse, his disarming smile now gone. "I think you'd better start over from the top," he says in more serious tones. <<include "chasecontcont2">>

So he listens as you explain what Riel told you: that the thieves have been raiding the merchants' caravans for funds to produce Black Sun, and that they're allegedly making it in a factory nearby. And that the drug seems to be related to one of the five Faceless Lords, which is how you came to be involved in the quest to purge the city of it. "Are you sure those are real?" Chase asks mildly. "Always thought those were wives' tales." "We don't know for sure," Trouble admits, a straight-shooter as ever. "But we can't take that chance." The thief leader looks thoughtful: a strange expression on his usually-smiling face. "Damn," is all he says for the moment. Finally he shakes his head. "That Riel," he says, looking rueful—maybe even grudgingly admiring. "I don't know if he did this on purpose, but he's smart—I'll give him that. He's got you all twisted the wrong way 'round. We thought <i>Merchants Guild</i> was the one smuggling in Black Sun. We've been raiding their 'vans to stop them!" <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "chasecontcont3">><</link>></center>

Trouble gapes, and even you and Blade can't help but stare. "What are you saying?" you ask him incredulously. Chase's lieutenant (or relative?), a beautiful hazel-eyed woman named Ari, doesn't look so amused by the misconception. "It's that rat Riel who's bringing in Black Sun," she reiterates sourly, folding her arms tight against her chest. "Or if not him specifically, someone else involved with the merchants. We got reliable intel that the Minister of Trade, their boss or whatever, was funneling his gold into making Black Sun. We figured they had to be getting it in to the city somehow, and the merchant caravans made the most sense, since he's in charge of them and no one would think to check them. <i>That's</i> why we've been raiding their 'vans. Not for gold, but for the drugs. To make them lose so much money they'd stop trying to bring it in." <<include "chaseinfo">>

<ul class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("butwhywouldyoucareaboutblacksun")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"But why would you care about Black Sun?"</div>' 'butwhywouldyoucareaboutblacksun'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("ifthisbusinesswiththetradeadministeristrue")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"If this business with the Trade Minister is true, why do you all hate the merchant leader Riel?"</div>' 'ifthisbusinesswiththetradeadministeristrue'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("haveyoufoundanythinginthecaravans")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Have you found anything in the caravans?"</div>' 'haveyoufoundanythinginthecaravans'>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link 'Enough of this. It\'s clear you can\'t tell who\'s telling the truth here.' 'herrr'>><</link>></li> </ul>

"He's annoying as all get-out," Chase answers flippantly. "Foiling us at every turn, trying to outmaneuver us. Really quite irksome. And he's a hoity-toity kiss-ass." "And he's caught one of our own," his lieutenant adds, cleaning under her fingernails with her knife. "And he's <i>helping</i> the minister bring in Black Sun, so why would we like him?" She spits. "He's like every other oak, maid, and made man this side of the Naucharin." "Aye," Chase says wisely. <<include "chaseinfo">>

Chase grimaces. "Well, no," he admits. "But only because that Riel is so damned smart. Not for lack of trying, though." "So all your evidence relies on intel that Black Sun may be funded by the Minister of Trade?" Blade demands. "You've been raiding the caravans based on that?" Chase barks out a laugh, but again, it doesn't seem to touch his eyes. "Isn't that what Riel's been doing?" he asks you. "Assuming we've got something to do with Black Sun just because it's made near here? And we're—what—lowlifes, so of course it'd be scum like us?" <<include "chaseinfo">>

Chase shakes his head, looking wry. "I get why you'd be skeptical, but the irony of it is, we're the ones who are actually telling the truth. For once," he adds. He rocks on the balls of his feet and sticks his hands in his pockets, putting on a show of casual amusement; from Blade's frown, it seems he finds this behavior suspicious. "And, look—I'm sorry if we got off on the wrong foot. If you're trying to stop Black Sun too, then that means we're on the same side, of a sorts—but I know who you're going to want to trust more." He looks at you. "But I'm telling you: it's the Minister of Trade who's in on this, not us. We assumed that since he's in charge of Merchants Guild, it'd be the only way he could be shipping the drug into the city in such massive quantities, but if it's not them, then it's <i>someone</i> involved with him." He shrugs. "I took your sun medallion so we could bust my dove out of the Vice Guard's guest house and get her away from that rat Riel. Didn't expect you to come tearing after it, but I guess I should have expected the pigeon plucker would have sicced you after us." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I believe you."' 'ibelieveyouherrr'>><<setchase +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Can we take a look around at your stuff? Just to verify?"' 'canwetakealookaroundat'>><<setintelligence +1>><<setcunning +1>><<setchase -3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"How could I trust the word of a thief?"' 'howcoulditrustathief'>><<setchase -5>><<set $chaseromanceflag -= 1>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Chase beams. "Good to hear," he says, looking pleased. <<include "herrr2">>

Ari scoffs, but Chase shrugs idly. "Go ahead," he says carelessly. "We've got nothing to hide. …Besides everything here being stolen contraband, but I doubt you're going to want anything to do with that." So you look around for a bit, poking through mountains of expensive coats and tumbling landslides of jeweled cups and bangles. You don't find anything out of place—certainly not any evidence of Black Sun—and the thieves watch you from a distance, sporting distinctly-unimpressed looks. Finally you turn back to Chase. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"It seems we were wrong about you. I\'m sorry."' 'itseemswrongsorry'>><<setchase +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Could you return the merchants\' wares to them?"' 'couldyoureturnthemerchants'>><<setriel +3>><</link>></li> </ul>

Chase smiles slightly, looking lazily pleased. "Don't worry; I'm used to it." <<include "herrr2">>

Chase snorts. "Sorry, but no matter what you say, <i>I</i> still don't have proof they're not involved with Black Sun," he retorts. "Their Minister of Trade is certainly in on it, and for all I know they could be, too—just feeding you lies to keep you off the scent. 'Sides, I need the leverage in case I can't get my dove back in the usual way: breaking in." <<include "herrr2">>

Chase's lips twitch, but his eyes look somewhat darkened. "I'm a thief, not a liar," he answers. Then he seems to shake it off with a shrug and a grin. "Well, <i>sometimes</i> I fudge the truth. Not this time, though." <<include "herrr2">>

<<set $medallion to true>>After another moment of thought, he takes the medallion from his pocket and tosses it to you. A glance tells you it's the real deal: you know every worn groove and imprint of the thing by now. "Here," Chase says. "Since you're trying to stop Black Sun, too, I can offer this back as a show of good faith. Using it was always a lark, anyway." He gives you a friendly kind of smirk. "We square?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Sure. We\'re square."' 'sureweresquare'>><<setcompassionate +5>><<setchase +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I forgive, but I don\'t forget."' 'iforgivebutidontforget'>><<setchase -1>><<setcompassionate -2>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'m never square with someone who steals from me."' 'imneversquarewithsomeonewhostealsfromme'>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setchase -3>><</link>></li> </ul>

Chase's eyes brighten. "Knew I liked something about you, sunshine," he says. <<include "herrr3">>

Chase smirks. "Suppose I can't blame you," he says with an airy shrug. <<include "herrr3">>

Chase chuckles. "Whatever you say, sunshine," he answers airily. <<include "herrr3">>

Then he cocks a look at Blade and Trouble. "Got what you want?" The three of you glance at each other. The thieves haven't admitted to being involved with Black Sun—in fact, they've lobbied some compelling arguments that they're very much against it—and Chase has returned your sun medallion. You don't really have any more business here… do you? "We're free to go?" you ask him. Chase shrugs nonchalantly. "Seems we're on the same side in this matter, so sure," he says. "I'd appreciate you not spreading news of where we are, but…" He winks at you. "Whatever happens, happens." "And what about the factory Riel mentioned?" Blade asks. "The Faceless Lords?" Chase waves a hand. "We'll look into it." "Even with one woman down?" Trouble asks with a cock of his head. Chase grins. "Sure. Who else is going to do it?" Then he comes forward to shake your hands. His palm is surprisingly wiry and strong. "You lot seem like an interesting crowd to run with. It's a shame we met on terms like this." Then he makes eye contact with you, and hidden laughter dances in his gaze. "See you around, sunshine." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "decisiontime">><</link>></center>

Blade nods. "I agree. A politician within the Autarchy seems like the perfect vessel for a powerful demon." <<nobr>><<if $followedriel is true>> So you head back to Riel at his offices in the Merchants Guild and bring him up to speed, telling him what Chase told you. As he absorbs this information, you let him know that you'd like his help in investigating the allegations against the Minister of Trade. <br><br> Riel sighs. "I'm glad, at least, that you came back to me," he says, "but I worry about following the word of thieves. They're not the most trustworthy, and this could be some elaborate trick to distract us both." At your look, he sighs again. "But it also isn't something we can ignore. An accusation against a Minister of the Autarchy is a serious thing. And if rumors are abounding that Merchants Guild has anything to do with it…" He pauses. "Then we must get to the bottom of things, if only to prove our own innocence. I won't have the Guild's reputation dirtied by anything Turti Ushala might be up to." <br><br> He smiles at you wryly. "So we will cooperate on this, and investigate together. I only pray we find something… even though I'm sure we won't like what we find." <<elseif $followedchase is true>> Riel smiles when he sees you returning so soon. "We could sorely use the help," he admits. "I'm not exactly equipped for field missions and dangerous investigations"—he indicates his frail frame—"so your firepower will be invaluable." Then he pauses. "Merchants Guild will be grateful for your help," he states, "especially now that I know we need to prove our own innocence. I only hope we can find something… though I'm also sure we won't like what we find." <</if>><</nobr>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "rielprepgala2">><</link>></center>

He asks you to give him a few days to send out some tendrils and get a feel for the situation: using his connections to investigate the Minister will go much more quietly than a few Shepherds sniffing around, at least initially. You, Blade, and Trouble spend that time getting the others up to speed, though you agree the three of you should continue heading up the Black Sun case while Tallys and Shery hold down the fort and work other leads. Finally, Riel summons you back to his offices. "We're going to the Minister of Trade's gala tonight," he announces, sweeping into the room with a distinct flourish of his expensive coat. "He'll be holding it at his private mansion, so it will provide us ample opportunity to look into his activities and see if we can find any evidence of Black Sun." He shoots Trouble a glance. "We will, of course, be investigating <i>discreetly</i>." Trouble stares blankly. "You think the Minister of Trade's going to let people looking like <i>us</i> in?" He gestures towards the hem of his own muddy cloak. "Even if you could dress us up, he's not going to let some no-names tramp on in. And he's certainly not going to let <i>Shepherds</i> in, especially if he really does have anything to do with Black Sun." "I'm the head of Merchants Guild," Riel answers with supreme dignity. "Do you really think a man like Turti Ushala is going to risk insulting me by shutting out my personal guests?" "Can we take the risk?" Blade asks. "If he catches wind that we might be on to him, isn't he liable to do something rash?" Everyone glances at you for your thoughts, but you're preoccupied by the faintest echo of memory in your mind, something that's been niggling at you since the first time you heard the Minister's name. Turti Ushala… where have you heard that before? <ul class="choices"> <<if $intelligence gte 25>><li><<link 'Turti Ushala is the name of Prihine\'s husband!' 'turtiushalaisthename'>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link 'You can\'t remember.' 'youcantrememberturti'>><<setintelligence -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Riel looks at you knowingly. "I've been doing some research," he says. "I'm glad you remembered—yes, Turti Ushala is the name of Prihine Naveen's husband. She was his bride, and you were at the church where they were wed. Then attacked by Endarkened." "You don't think there's a connection, do you?" you ask him. "If Turti is involved with Black Sun, and Black Sun is involved with demons…" "And if demons attacked Turti's wedding, that might have had something to do with it?" Riel finishes. He makes the gesture for <i>servori</i>: the way is closed. "Hard to say. If I had to guess, I would say he was not cavorting with Endarkened then—but I'm no expert. I've heard some demons can latch on to their vessels from the moment the vessels are born." <<include "rielprepgala3">>

Riel looks at you knowingly. "I've been doing some research," he says. "I was expecting you to have remembered by now. Turti Ushala is the name of Prihine Naveen's husband. She was his bride, and you were at the church where they were wed. Then attacked by Endarkened." <<include "rielprepgala3">>

<<nobr>><<if $prihinesafe is true or $bothsafe is true>><<set $prihinefavor to true>><<elseif $bothdead is true or $prihinedead is true>><<set $turtihates to true>><</if>> <<if $prihinefavor is true>> "Wait, that means you have an inside connection," Trouble exclaims, turning to you. "You <i>know</i> that Prihine girl, don't you? She kind of owes you her life. So we can get into her party, no problem!" <br><br> You nod. This is true: Prihine explicitly told you once that she owed you a favor, didn't she? And what better way to have that favor repaid than by asking her to let you in to her husband's exclusive gala? <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Oh. Oh, no. Poor Prihine. Her husband\'s mixed up in this?"' 'ohohnopoorprihine'>><<set $prihineromanceflag += 1>><<setcompassionate +2>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'You just hope she\'ll actually carry through on her word...' 'thiscont'>><</link>></li> </ul> <<elseif $turtihates is true>> Trouble turns to you with a grimace. "Wait, that's not good, is it? You were kind of involved with that whole affair—he might blame you for his dead wife." <br><br> Blade raps his knuckles on Trouble's head, who yelps in protest. "Think before you speak, idiot." <br><br> Riel looks grave. "No," he says. "He's right. Turti will not be pleased if he discovers this particular Shepherd is anywhere near his private event. He might deny us entry on sight." <br><br> <<if $trouble gt $blade>> "Well, we can't leave <<c surname>> behind," Trouble says adamantly. "<<if $plural is true>><<c she>>'re<<else>><<c she>>'s<</if>> our only good Mage, and kind of our strongest hope against something like a Faceless Lord." <br><br> <<else>> "We're not leaving <<c surname>> behind, though," Blade says in his matter-of-fact way. "We need $them." <br><br> <</if>> Riel looks thoughtful. "We'll need to disguise you, then, and pray the Minister doesn't recognize you." He sighs. "If we had to be discreet before, we need to act in utter secrecy now. We'll likely need to split up when we reach the mansion, to avoid drawing attention to <<c rank>> <<c surname>>." <br><br> <<include "thiscont">> <<else>> <<include "thiscont">> <</if>><</nobr>>

The realization strikes you like a lightning bolt. It's bad enough that the young woman was attacked at her own wedding and forced to marry a man over twice her age. Now he might even be consorting with demons <i>and</i> pushing an insidious drug through the streets of Haven? Blade looks grave. "But she mistreated you, didn't she? It's not as if she's a saint herself." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"She was just in pain and lashing out."' 'thiscont'>><<setcompassionate +2>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 1>><<if $gender is "female" and $bladeromanceflag gte 1>><<set $bladeromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"That\'s true. I suppose things always come full circle..."' 'thiscont'>><<setcompassionate -2>><<if $gender is "male">><<set $rielromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <<fake_choice 'Shrug. "That\'s all in the past. I don\'t think about it at all anymore."' 'thiscont'>> </ul>

Before you can discuss this further, however, your conversation is suddenly interrupted by a sudden exclamation outside of the door. "The guildmaster is busy!" Aerin's indignant voice carries through the heavy oaken doors of the office. "You can't just barge in, Ebert! <i>Hey!</i>…" You turn. <i>Ebert?…</i> The four of you glance up as a squat, familiar figure slips quickly in through the doors, shutting them on the storm of cursing behind him. The man begins, his back still turned, "Forgive me, Guildmaster… There're some contracts you said you'd look at, and they really can't wait…" Riel turns very cold and severe. "I have guests, Ebert," he says, his usually-light voice suddenly a deeper, more clipped timbre. "Use your sense and manners. If I had time for you, I would have invited you in." However, his reprimand comes too late. Ebert has already turned from the door, and his eyes flash up—and spot you. A gamut of feeling comes rushing up within you. Well, well, well. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Smile wickedly and wave at him. "Fancy seeing you here, meat man."' 'thiscont2'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Glare balefully at him. What in the eight Haels does he think he\'s doing here?' 'thiscont2'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Ignore him. He\'s so beneath you it\'s sad.' 'thiscont2'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'You stare blankly. First Prihine, now Ebert? Talk about a blast from the past...' 'thiscont2'>><</link>></li> </ul>

<<set $dontknowebert to false>>You haven't forgotten what this man did to you. Telling you off, threatening you to stay away from his apprentice… <<nobr>><<if $staycaine is true>> siccing the Vice Guard after you when you didn't listen… <</if>> <<if $cainedead is true or $bothdead is true>> abandoning Caine and leaving him to be buried in some unmarked grave… <</if>><</nobr>> You watch as Ebert takes in your Shepherds' uniform and all the blood drains from his face. Riel is looking back and forth between the two of you, sensing the sudden tension in the room. Blade and Trouble are also watching you with interest. "You know each other?" "No, no," Ebert blurts out, backing up towards the door again. "Not at all. Er… so sorry to interrupt, Guildmaster." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Clench your fist. It\'s aching to fly into Ebert\'s face. "I didn\'t know you employed racists in this guild, Riel."' 'clenchyourfistitsaching'>><<setcourage +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Go along with the lie. "Nope, never met him in my life."' 'goalongwiththelie'>><<set $dontknowebert to true>><<setcunning +1>><<setriel -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Oh, we know each other. He treated me horribly when I was working as Prihine\'s bodyguard."' 'ohweknowhetreatedmehorribly'>><<setcharisma +1>><<setriel +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Riel's eyebrows shoot up. "You've been mistreated by this man in the past, <<c rank>> <<c surname>>?" he asks. You laugh, and the sound is bitter in the quiet room, muffled by the rich curtain and plush carpet. "Would <i>you</i> like to answer that, Ebert?" you ask the cowering man. The <i>muti</i> doesn't even have the decency to meet your gaze. "Don't know what <<if $plural is true>><<print $she>>'re<<else>><<print $she>>'s<</if>> on about," he mutters. <<include "thiscont3">>

Ebert doesn't make eye contact with you as his head bobs up and down. "That's right. Couldn't tell $them from anyone else." <<nobr>><<if $blade gte 30>> <br><br> Blade is watching your face, clearly not believing you. <</if>> <<if $riel gte 30>> Riel looks skeptical. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "thiscont3">>

Riel's eyes are cool as they take in Ebert's shrinking frame. "Is that so?" he drawls thoughtfully. His fingers drum against the head of his cane. <<nobr>><<if $trouble gte 35>> <br><br> Trouble cracks his neck ominously, making Ebert flinch. He looks like he's ready to start swinging. "That so?" he echoes. <</if>> <<if $blade gte 30>> <br><br> Blade is glaring daggers at the man like he wishes he could crack his head open and extract the truth like an egg. He doesn't say anything, but his whole body is taut and very still. You can't read what's going on behind his dark eyes. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "thiscont3">>

"Get out of here," Riel tells Ebert, who hunches his shoulders and flees the room. Once he's vacated the office, the merchant leader turns back to you and says, "I really do hate that man. A simpering, cowardly little idiot. I've always wanted to be rid of him, but never found a good enough excuse. There's bad blood between you?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Very." You explain your history with Ebert.' 'veryyouexplainhistory'>><<setriel +1>><<setblade +1>><<settrouble +1>><<setcharisma +1>><<setloyal +1>><<set $punishebert to true>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I don\'t want to talk about it."' 'idontwantotalkaboutitebert'>><<setcharisma -1>><<setloyal -1>><</link>></li> <<if $dontknowebert is true>><li><<link '"I told you, I don\'t know him." ' 'itoldyouidontknowebert'>><<setriel -3>><<setblade -1>><<setcunning +1>><<setloyal -2>><</link>></li><</if>> </ul>

Riel, puzzlingly, actually smiles after you're done recounting how horrible Ebert has been to you. "That's just what I needed," he says in a satisfied way. "Conduct unbefitting of a guildmember. I'll have him expelled within the day." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Can\'t you do worse? I want to make him pay."' 'cantyoudoworse'>><<setcompassionate -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You don\'t need to go that far..."' 'youdontneedtogothatfar'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Thank you. That would be very kind of you."' 'thankyouverykindofyou'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Riel raises an eyebrow—but he looks intrigued. "I suppose I could blacklist him, ensure no businessperson this side of the Continent will even go near him. It'd essentially ruin his business." He tilts his head in a strangely innocent but calculating way: he's making it clear he's weighing and assessing the deal, but not for any nefarious purposes. "But to go so far, I'd… like a favor from you. In the future. It may be something I never call on you for. But I rarely ever wield my clout for free." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Done."' 'doneriel'>><<set $punishebertmore to true>><<set $punishebert to false>><<setriel +1>><<if $gender is "male">><<set $rielromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"What kind of favor?"' 'whatkindoffavor'>><</link>></li> <<if $attractedto is not "women">><li><<link '"I\'d love to perform a favor for you." <b>[INNUENDO]</b>' 'idliketoperformafavor'>><<set $rielromanceflag -= 1>><<if $troubleromanceflag gte 5>><<set $troubleromanceflag -= 2>><</if>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 3>><<set $bladeromanceflag to 0>><</if>><</link>></li><</if>> </ul>

Riel smiles thinly and inclines his head. "It will be done." <<include "aknockatthedoor">>

He shrugs lightly. "Maybe I'd need you to look into the arcane for me, or procure a spellbook. Maybe you'd allow me to interview you on some sensitive topic for my records. Maybe I'd need you to look dour and intimidating during one of my business negotiations. Something along those lines." He smiles thinly. "I trade not in gold, but primarily in favors and connections, you see." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Fine. A favor for a favor. End Ebert\'s career."' 'fineafavorforafavor'>><<set $punishebertmore to true>><<set $punishebert to false>><<setcunning +3>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setriel +10>><<if $gender is "male">><<set $rielromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'m not comfortable with that."' 'imnotcomfortablewiththat'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Riel smiles thinly. "It will be done," he says, inclining his head. <<include "aknockatthedoor">>

Riel settles back as if expecting this. "We'll settle for driving him out of the guild and city, then," is all he says. <<include "aknockatthedoor">>

Riel doesn't bat an eye. "Not that kind of favor." You shift. "What kind are you referring to, then?" He shrugs lightly. "Maybe I'd need you to look into the arcane for me, or procure a spellbook. Maybe you'd allow me to interview you on some sensitive topic for my records. Maybe I'd need you to look scary and intimidating during one of my business negotiations. Something along those lines." He smiles thinly. "I trade not in gold, but primarily in favors and connections, you see." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Fine. A favor for a favor. End Ebert\'s career."' 'fineafavorforafavor'>><<setcunning +3>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setriel +5>><<set $punishebertmore to true>><<set $punishebert to false>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'m not comfortable with that."' 'imnotcomfortablewiththat'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Riel shakes his head. "It was a long time coming," he answers. "I don't tolerate intolerance among my guildmembers: it's an inexcusable stupidity that good businessmen should never abide, and it tarnishes the reputation of the guild besides. He's finished." "It's not illegal to discriminate against Diminished," you point out. "In fact, the Autarchy practically encourages it in all its citizens." Riel chuckles: the sound is like the rustling of dry leaves. "The Merchants Guild is mine," he tells you. "Within these walls, I rule over my own kind of kingdom, my own Sun Court. My laws are my own—and I am not the Autarch." <<include "aknockatthedoor">>

Riel smiles and shakes his head. "It's less kindness and more practicality," he answers. "Most members find him repugnant—my poor assistant Aerin included—and this is simply a good opportunity to… separate the wheat from the chaff." "It's not illegal to discriminate against Diminished," you point out. "In fact, the Autarchy practically encourages it in all citizens." Riel chuckles: the sound is like the rustling of dry leaves. "The Merchants Guild is my kingdom," is all he says. "And I am not the Autarch." <<include "aknockatthedoor">>

There's an expectant pause as the others wait for more, but no more is forthcoming. Eventually Riel shrugs and answers, "So be it." <<include "aknockatthedoor">>

Riel clearly doesn't believe you, but he simply shrugs. "If you insist." <<include "aknockatthedoor">>

A knock at the door draws all of your attentions again, but this time, instead of Ebert, it's Riel's assistant Aerin. "Sorry," she says, looking hassled. "He always just barges right past me, the sexist prig. Anyway—we've got our in-house seamstress here if you Shepherds want to attend the gala without your uniforms. Blending in with the noble crowd will deflect attention from you and let you snoop around the house and investigate. If you stand out because you're underdressed—well, sneaking around won't nearly be so easy." Riel rises smoothly to his feet just as a short half-Elven woman floats into the room. "A disguise is essential," he announces, "and Mistress Teya here is well-versed in all of the latest fashions. Select something that will allow you to blend in—you should not look like a soldier, nor should you make yourself the talk of the gala by choosing the fashion statement of the season. The bill, of course, will go to the Merchants Guild." "Who's first?" Mistress Teya asks. A commanding, painted fingernail points at you. "You. You shall be my first model." "Oh, haelfire," Trouble mutters as he and Blade file out of the room, wearing dark expressions. "I'm going to be all buttoned up like a mummy." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "aknockatthedoor2">><<set $formalwearhave to true>><</link>></center>

Mistress Teya leaves you to stand in silence as she unpacks an array of gorgeous textiles and sophisticated outfits from her traveling case: from what you can glean, sleek and subtle is the current fashion style, with only a splash of color to accent certain areas; large ruffles and pleats seem to be out. Finally she turns to you with an imperious expression. "Well?" she demands in a prim twitter. "What catches your eye?" <<include "chooseoutfit">>

You step forward to take a look at…<span class="fancylist"><span class="nohighlight"> * <<link "The gowns and dresses.">><<toggleclass "#gowns" "hide">><</link>><div id="gowns" class="hide"><span class="nohighlightlist">&emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[I want the elegant, flowing, near-translucent floor gown dyed in dove-gray ombre.|flowingdovegraypeignoir][$formalwear to "a flowing, dove-gray peignoir"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[I want the sleek, cinched violet sheath dress with a glittering gold belt at the waist.|richlycoloredvioleteveninggown][$formalwear to "a richly-colored violet evening gown"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[I want the pink, ruffled ball gown with a cascade of ruffles and ribbons.|pastelpinkballgownwithskirt][$formalwear to "a pastel-pink ballgown with a skirt like a princess"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[I want the dramatic, dark blue dress with ruched fabric in the skirt to imitate ocean waves.|dramaticdarkbluedresswithwaves][$formalwear to "a dramatic and striking dark blue dress with waves in the skirt"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[I want the colorful, sequined gown resembling a peacock's feathers.|chooseoutfit2][$formalwear to "a deep green gown studded with glittering sequins and colorful feathers like a peacock's plume"]] </span></div> * <<link "The suits and tunics.">><<toggleclass "#suits" "hide">><</link>><div id="suits" class="hide"><span class="nohighlightlist">&emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[I want the slim-fitting, dark and somber suit with a splash of red at the breast pocket.|slimfittingdarksomber][$formalwear to "a sleek dark suit with a red handkerchief"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[I want the dark red tunic and black cape that brings to mind a dashing war hero.|darkredtunic][$formalwear to "a resplendent red outfit that makes you look like a triumphant royal returning from a military campaign"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[I want the long, royal purple coat and trousers with subtle gold designs along the hem.|chooseoutfit2][$formalwear to "a deep purple long coat with handsome gold designs"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[I want the pale blue linen suit with a ruffled white shirt and silver cuff links.|palebluelinensuit][$formalwear to "a pale blue suit with a ruffled white shirt and silver cuff links"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[I want the pale, cream-colored suit with a high collar and an opal brooch.|chooseoutfit2][$formalwear to "a cream-colored suit with a high collar and an opal brooch"]] </span></div> * <<link "The robes and vestments.">><<toggleclass "#robes" "hide">><</link>><div id="robes" class="hide"><span class="nohighlightlist">&emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[I want the shimmering silk robe decked in pastel pink with an ornate trim of red blossoms along the sleeves.|richlycoloredvioleteveninggown][$formalwear to "fetching pastel robes with a silky sheen and red blossom designs"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[I want the midnight-blue velvet robes covered in fascinating gold embroidery.|richlycoloredvioleteveninggown][$formalwear to "a mysterious midnight-blue robe covered in shimmering gold"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[I want the dark red, thigh-length robe with a cinched black belt, styled in a kind of military fashion.|chooseoutfit2][$formalwear to "a cinched red short robe with a striking black belt"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[I want the forest-green, floor-length robes with wide, trailing sleeves.|chooseoutfit2][$formalwear to "forest-green, floor-length robes with wide, trailing sleeves"]] &emsp;&emsp; ✧ [[I want the slim robe in sunset colors, with dark purple at the shoulders fading to orange at the midriff and blush-pink at the hem.|chooseoutfit2][$formalwear to "a sunset-colored robe with a gorgeous ombre of purple to pink"]] </span></div>

Mistress Teya gives a curt nod of approval. "A fine choice," she says. <<include "chooseoutfit2">>

Mistress Teya frowns, but moves forward to begin tailoring without another word. <<include "chooseoutfit2">>

Mistress Teya gives a curt nod of approval. "A fine choice," she says. <<include "chooseoutfit2">>

Mistress Teya frowns, but moves forward to begin tailoring without another word. <<include "chooseoutfit2">>

<<set $fashion to true>><<notify_codex_culture "Lady Tatler, Issue 42">>A half-hour with her has your new formalwear fitting perfectly. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "chooseoutfit3">><</link>></center>

<<set $clothes to $formalwear>>As you examine yourself in the mirror, you… <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '...call Blade in. Does this look right?' 'bladereactdress'>><<if $blade lte 40 or $bladeromanceflag lt 3>><<setblade +1>><</if>><</link>></li> <<if $troublehate is false>><li><<link '...call Trouble in. Does this look right?' 'troublereactdress'>><<settrouble +3>><</link>></li><<else>><<disabled "...call Trouble in. Does this look right?">><</if>> <li><<link '...call Riel in. Does this look right?' 'rielreactdress'>><<setriel +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '...pat yourself on the back. You look like someone who belongs at a gala.' 'ebertconfront'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Blade comes into the room suddenly, without knocking. He pauses at the doorway and regards you without expression. "What do you think?" you ask him. <<nobr>><<if $blade gt 40 and $bladeromanceflag gte 3>> "You look…" Blade pauses for a very long time, as if scrambling in silence to find the words. Finally he clears his throat and tries again: "You look. Good. Fashionable…" He stands stock-still at the doorway, but he doesn't seem to quite look at you. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Wow. You sure know how to pay a compliment..."' 'wowyousureknowhowtopay'>><<setblade +1>><<if $gender is "female">><<set $bladeromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Thanks. You look good, too."' 'thanksyoulookgoodtoo'>><<setblade +1>><<if $gender is "female">><<set $bladeromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Take a step closer to him, curiously.' 'takeastepclosertohim'>><<if $gender is "female">><<set $bladeromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> </ul> <<else>> “It is adequate,” the Ket says, without inflection—but the corners of his mouth suppress a smile. He's dressed in a stiffly-laundered black tunic and a fine navy coat with silver livery, complete with a thick black cloak trailing behind him. It's a bit old-fashioned, and certainly out of season, but it's sober and dignified—and he wears it so easily he might as well be a prince. As always, his dark Ket sword is buckled at his side. <br><br> You raise a brow at the weapon. "Are you bringing that to the gala?" you ask him. "It's not very… discreet, is it?" <br><br> His mouth quirks ruefully, and he leans his shoulder against the wall. "We've decided that I'll be posing as Riel's personal bodyguard," he tells you. "It allows me to bring my weapon in. And also saves me from having to talk to nobles." <br><br> You can't help but laugh. "Which sounds more onerous: hunting for a powerful Endarkened or having to mingle with a room full of aristocrats?" <br><br> "I respectfully decline from answering," Blade answers contentedly, and leaves again with you laughing at his back. You'll make a diplomat of him yet. <br><br> <<include "ebertconfront">> <</if>><</nobr>>

You say it playfully, and Blade looks studiously at a pair of gas lamps set into the office wall without replying. <<include "bladereactdressif">>

Blade coughs and mutters something unintelligible. <<include "bladereactdressif">>

Blade backs up a pace, still not quite looking at you. <<include "bladereactdressif">>

He's dressed in a stiffly-laundered black tunic and a fine navy coat with silver livery, complete with a thick black cloak trailing behind him. It's a bit old-fashioned, and certainly out of season, but it's sober and dignified—and he wears it so easily he might as well be a prince. As always, his dark Ket sword is buckled at his side. You raise a brow at the weapon. "Are you bringing that to the gala?" you ask him. "It's not very… discreet, is it?" His mouth quirks ruefully, and finally he makes eye contact with you. "We've decided that I'll be posing as Riel's personal bodyguard," he tells you. "Allows me to bring my weapon in. It also saves me from having to talk to nobles." You blow out a breath. "Which means <i>I'll</i> be the one who has to." He laughs: such a rare sight that you don't have the time to memorize the look of it before it's gone. "Just try not to draw too much attention to yourself. I have a feeling many eyes will be on you tonight—and I don't want to worry about prying lovesick swains away from you <i>as well as</i> hunting for a demon. Somehow the former sounds more dangerous…" You laugh, and he trails off with a stare. The two of you smile at each other until the silence draws out too long. Then Blade seems to remember himself, makes a curt gesture of farewell that you don't understand, and silently exits the room. <<include "ebertconfront">>

Trouble strolls back into the room, then pauses at the sight of you, as if caught off-guard by your sudden appearance in formalwear. <<nobr>><<if $troubleromanceflag gte 3>> He blinks several times at you, looking comically-owlish, before he says a bit blankly: "You look… different." <br><br> You raise a brow. "Different in a good way?" <br><br> That seems to snap him out of it. "Oh, yeah," he blurts hurriedly. He's dressed in a warm red suit with gold buttons and cuffed shoulders, though his necktie is rather askew (as if it had been wrestled on him). His blond hair, normally a bit flyaway and tousled, looks neatly combed at a side part. You wonder how Mistress Teya managed that. "Yeah, <i>obviously</i> good—not that you don't look good all the time. This doesn't make a difference. No, I mean, it <i>does</i>, but…" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Continue to let him flail. "I don\'t know what you mean..."' 'continuetolethimflail'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'End his suffering. "I think you look good, too."' 'endhissufferingithink'>><<settrouble +3>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <<if $troubleromanceflag gte 3>><li><<link 'Step forward and straighten his tie. "Something got your tongue?"' 'stepforwardandstraighten'>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li><</if>> </ul> <<else>> "Hey," he says with a warm grin, "you look great! Way better than me or Blade!" <br><br> He's dressed in a warm red suit with gold buttons and cuffed shoulders, though his necktie is rather askew (as if it had been wrestled on him). His blond hair, normally a bit flyaway and tousled, looks neatly combed at a side part. You wonder how Mistress Teya managed that. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Nonsense. You look great, too!"' 'nonsenseyoulookgreattoo'>><<settrouble +3>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 1>><</link>><li> <li><<link '"It\'s kind of strange to see you like this..."' 'itskindofstrangetoseeyou'>><<settrouble -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Step forward and fix his tie.' 'stepforwardandfixhistie'>><<if $charisma gte 15>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> </ul> <</if>><</nobr>>

Trouble trips over his next words. "You, uh—the color—" He looks around a bit desperately, as if hoping for inspiration to strike him from nowhere. "Shoes," he says finally. "You need shoes. I'll, er, tell the seamstress…" The door slams shut as he turns to flee from the room. <<include "ebertconfront">>

Trouble grins a bit sheepishly, and for the first time you notice he has a boyish dimple in his left cheek when he smiles. "Thanks, <<c halfname>>," he says in softer tones. He looks at you, and his gaze is warm. Then, after another second passes, he seems to snap out of it and straightens. "You're going to have to talk to the moneybags tonight," he informs you, tugging his tie so that it looks more straight. "I'm no good at talking to those who think of themselves as high and mighty. Plus, I'm a bit nervous I'll be recognized—you know, from the days I used to rob nobles—so it's probably better if I hang in the background. And, uh—Blade isn't the most sociable. He'd be a dead giveaway, so…" You tsk your tongue. "What did you all do before I got here—draw straws? Sometimes I think you couldn't manage without me." Trouble laughs, the sound rich and warm. "Sometimes I think you're right," he agrees, smiling. <<include "ebertconfront">>

You say it casually, innocently, but Trouble colors deeply, his ruddy skin taking on a warm glow. "Oh, shut up," he mutters—but he holds still as he allows you to fix his tie. For the briefest instant, his eyes connect with yours—then he's shifting away, chuckling ruefully, and your arms fall back at your sides. "You're going to have to talk to the moneybags tonight," Trouble informs you, tugging at his collar as if it's suffocating him. "I'm no good at talking to those who think of themselves as high and mighty. Plus, I'm a bit nervous I'll be recognized—you know, from the days I used to rob nobles—so it's probably better if I hang in the background. And, uh—Blade isn't the most sociable. He'd be a dead giveaway, so…" You tsk your tongue. "What did the Order do before I got here—draw straws? Sometimes I think you couldn't manage without me." Trouble laughs, the sound rich and warm. "Sometimes I think you're right," he agrees, smiling. <<include "ebertconfront">>

Trouble colors slightly, but he looks pleased. "Thanks," he says, a bit gruffly—then he scratches the back of his neck and looks around. "It was nice of Riel to pay for all this. The Order really ought to have the budget for it, but the Autarchy can be so stingy, and if we tell Riel to send the bill to them, someone might tip off the Minister…" He looks down at his clothes again. "He says we can keep them, but I dunno what I'd do with a get-up like this afterwards." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"You\'re not keeping them as pajamas? That\'s what I\'m doing."' 'yourenotkeepingthemaspajamas'>><<setcharisma +1>><<settrouble +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Maybe we can re-sell them and make some gold back?"' 'maybewecanresellthem'>><<settrouble -1>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Trouble laughs out loud, put more at ease by your joke. "See, that's exactly why you have to be the one to talk to the moneybags," he tells you. "You make people feel happy, and I'm no good at talking to those who think of themselves as high and mighty. Plus, I'm a bit nervous I'll be recognized—you know, from the days I used to rob nobles—so it's probably better if I hang in the background. And, uh—Blade isn't the most sociable. He'd be a dead giveaway, so…" You tsk your tongue. "What did the Order do before I got here—draw straws? Sometimes I think you couldn't manage without me." Trouble laughs, the sound rich and warm. "Sometimes I think you're right," he agrees, smiling. <<include "ebertconfront">>

Trouble looks a bit uncomfortable at the thought. "Seems sort of wrong to sell off something you got as a free gift," he says, "but I could see your point." Then he shakes his head. "See, that's exactly why you have to be the one to talk to the moneybags. You're clever, clever enough to keep up with their backtalk and lies, and I'm no good at talking to those who think of themselves as high and mighty. Plus, I'm a bit nervous I'll be recognized—you know, from the days I used to rob nobles—so it's probably better if I hang in the background. And, uh—Blade isn't the most sociable. He'd be a dead giveaway, so…" You tsk your tongue. "What did the Order do before I got here—draw straws? Sometimes I think you couldn't manage without me." Trouble laughs, the sound rich and warm. "Sometimes I think you're right," he agrees, smiling. <<include "ebertconfront">>

Trouble looks self-conscious. "If you feel that way, think about how <i>I</i> feel," he says, aggrieved. "I can barely breathe in this thing." "Just think of it as—physical training," you tell him. "Like when Blade makes you strap weights to your back while you hike uphill. It'll make you stronger. And you just need to last the night." Trouble snorts. "I can look the part," he says, "but you're going to have to be the one who talks to the moneybags." He tugs at his collar as if it's suffocating him. "I'm no good at talking to those who think of themselves as high and mighty. Plus, I'm a bit nervous I'll be recognized—you know, from the days I used to rob nobles—so it's probably better if I hang in the background. And, uh—Blade isn't the most sociable. He'd be a dead giveaway, so…" You tsk your tongue. "What did the Order do before I got here—draw straws? Sometimes I think you couldn't manage without me." Trouble laughs, the sound rich and warm. "Sometimes I think you're right," he agrees, smiling. <<include "ebertconfront">>

Trouble colors at the neck slightly when you lean close to him, but he holds still and allows you to rearrange his tie. "Not you, too," he grumbles. "I feel like a blond ape in a straitjacket. Or a dog on a leash." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I sort of feel that way, too."' 'isortoffeelthatwaytoo'>><<set $troubleharden -= 1>><<setloyal -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Shush him gently. "Think of it as another part of your duties."' 'shushhimgentlythink'>><<set $troubleharden += 1>><<setloyal +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

"At least we're going through this torture together," Trouble groans. You nudge him playfully. "Misery loves company." <<include "ebertconfront">>

"It's just another part we have to play," you tell him. "The world is full of them: it's just the way of things. Sometimes putting on a suit is more powerful than putting a gun in someone's face." Trouble is watching you thoughtfully. "So, what, tonight is about putting on a mask? I'm not great at those." You smile at him. "Just watch me. Most Diminished people have to wear one every day just to stay alive. This is nothing compared to that." <<include "ebertconfront">>

While you wait for Riel to arrive, you examine his desk. He seems to be terribly neat, Riel: although its surface is littered with all manner of trinkets, tomes, and contracts, everything seems to have its own place, and every angle is in exact alignment with another. It's quite pleasing to look at, really. Suddenly you notice that there's a small globe on the corner of his desk, depicting the continent of Blest as well as the fabled southern continent that lies across the turbulent Nysos sea. The Land of the Gods, they call it. There's a seam running directly through the center of the globe, separating Blest and the Land of the Gods into exact halves. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Open the globe. There must be something inside.' 'rielsweets'>><<setintelligence +1>><<setcourage +1>><<setcunning -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Leave it alone.' 'rielsweeps'>><<setcunning +1>><<setintelligence +1>><<setcourage -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Suddenly Riel sweeps into the room again, looking you over with a critical eye. He nods approvingly. "That outfit is a good choice: it looks suitable for the occasion." <<include "rieloutfit">>

You prise open the globe, and it swings open smoothly to reveal… A colorful dish of peppermint candies. You stare, and Riel chooses that exact moment to sweep back into the room. "Oh," he says, appearing unfazed by your nosiness. "Would you like some?" He moves smoothly into the room to approach the desk; swiftly and surely he manipulates some hidden mechanism under its surface, and at least three different drawers pop out from places you never would have thought to look. All are filled with elegantly-wrapped little sweets and caramels. "Help yourself," Riel says in a supremely-dignified manner, folding his hands gracefully behind his back like a butler offering his patron a buffet. "As you can see, I have plenty." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Take one of the candies and thank him.' 'takeoneofthecandies'>><<if $gender is "male">><<set $rielromanceflag += 1>><</if>><<setriel +1>><<sethealth +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Wow, you sure have a sweet tooth, don\'t you?"' 'wowyousurehaveasweettooth'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Shake your head. You\'re not interested in candy.' 'shakeyourheadyourenot'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"How did you do that with the drawers?"' 'howdidyoudothatwiththedrawers'>><<setriel +1>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

You smile at him as you pop it into your mouth; this one is a hard honey treat, and it instantly begins to melt on your tongue. "I'll be spending lots of time in your office, that's for sure," you tell him. Riel smiles, looking rather pleased. "You are welcome to stop by anytime you wish." <<include "rielsweets2">>

"It's my one vice," Riel intones dryly. "I don't partake in drugs, nor wine nor charch nor any stimulant aside from the occasional cup of khav. But when I must burn the midnight oil and toil away at my desk… sweets keep me awake." <<include "rielsweets2">>

"Suit yourself," Riel answers, manipulating the desk so the drawers hide themselves away again. <<include "rielsweets2">>

"It almost looks like magic," you note, "but I'm sure it's all a very clever trick." Riel smiles, pleased by your curiosity. "It was something I invented in my spare time. I tend to channel my creative energies into making things like that, to blow off steam." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"So you\'re an inventor? What have you invented?"' 'soyoureaninventor'>><<setintelligence +1>><<setriel +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Nod. That\'s as far as you want to take the conversation. ' 'nodthatsasfarasyouwant'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Riel laughs quietly: the sound is pleasant and polite. "Not much of note," he demurs. "So much of my time is taken up by running the guild. But in my spare time, I've been wanting to study magical technology more closely, to see how I can integrate it with the existing machinery on the market today—of course, much of it is contraband, so I'm vastly limited in what I can do—but at the moment, I'm thinking of ways to develop long-distance communicators, or more efficient ways to store magical energy, or ways for me to see through the eyes of others even when I'm not in the same vicinity as them…" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"That\'s fascinating. I don\'t know anyone who does anything like that."' 'thatsfascinatingidontknowanyone'>><<setriel +1>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"We could use someone like you in the Shepherds."' 'wecouldusesomeonelikeyouintheshepherds'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

"I'm sure you do," Riel says, vaguely amused. "Perhaps you just haven't realized it yet." <<include "rielsweets2">>

Riel tilts his head. "Truly? You think so? I was always under the impression the Shepherds were a more… combat-oriented police force. And I'm barely strong enough to hold up a sword—as you can see." He holds out one thin, elegant hand with an air of irony. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"We need people of all stripes. Not just fighters."' 'weneedpeopleofallstripes'>><<setriel +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Sharp minds can be even more valuable than strong hands."' 'sharpmindscanbeevenmorevaluable'>><<if $gender is "male">><<set $rielromanceflag += 1>><</if>><<setriel +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Riel's lips twitch. "I suppose you might." <<include "rielsweets2">>

Riel laughs. "I suppose that's true. It's pleasing to see that someone like you believes that." <<include "rielsweets2">>

Riel deftly manipulates the drawers so that they hide themselves away again. <<include "rielsweets">>

Then he takes a step back from the desk and asks, "What did you need?" You gesture at yourself, indicating your formalwear. "What do you think?" Riel looks you over with a gimlet eye. "A good choice," he says after a moment. "It will look suitable for the occasion." <<include "rieloutfit">>

Riel arches a brow. "Did you want me to say something else?" Somehow you get the feeling that he knows exactly what you're getting at, but he's making you come out and say it first. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"…Never mind."' 'nevermindriel'>><<setcourage -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I mean, a compliment other than \'suitable\' would be nice."' 'imeanacomplimentotherthansuitable'>><<setcourage +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Riel makes a sonorous sound. "As you like." <<include "rieloutfit2">>

Riel tuts. "I am hardly the one to turn to when it comes to doling out compliments," he says, a little waspishly. "…But if it would satisfy you to hear, you do look nice." <<include "rieloutfit2">>

Riel smiles thinly. "That's good," he says, looking at you assessingly. "You have a flatterer's tongue. It will serve you well when interacting with the nobles tonight." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"It wasn\'t flattery; I was being sincere."' 'itwasntflatteryiwasbeing'>><<setcharisma +1>><<setriel +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I have a what tongue?" <b>[INNUENDO]</b>' 'ihaveawhattongue'>><<setriel -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

"Of course," Riel answers graciously—but you can tell he probably doesn't believe you. <<include "rieloutfit2">>

Riel remains unimpressed by your comment and doesn't dignify it with an answer. <<include "rieloutfit2">>

He looks around at the rest of the room, as if pondering what else to say. You break the silence by asking… <<include "rieltalkminister">>

"What is it being held for? Who will be there?" "Ostensibly, it's being held for the upcoming Candle Day," Riel replies, "as a show of devotion for the One-God and the Autarchy. It is understood by all, though, that it also serves the dual purpose of celebrating the Minister's 55th birthday. However, you needn't worry—plenty of people will be there who have never met the Minister, despite the intimacy of the occasion." He thinks about it for a moment. "As for guests: I do not expect any other prominent Ministers of the Consortium will be present, or notable figures of the Sun Court. Although Turti is the Minister of Trade, he is still low-ranking in terms of nobility, and considered doddering and old-fashioned besides. If you step on any toes, it won't be anyone who has the personal ear of the Autarch." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Oh <i>$god</i>, he\'s old!"' 'ohgodhesold'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"...We\'re going to be arresting the man on his birthday?"' 'weregoingtobearrestingtheman'>><<setcompassionate +2>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Wait, why would you assume I\'m going to step on any toes?"' 'waitwhywouldyouassume'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Although you'd seen him at the wedding, his head had been shaven and you'd been standing at a distance. You hadn't realized Prihine was truly marrying someone potentially older than her own father… "Yes, it's a despicable practice," Riel intones dryly when you express these thoughts. You tilt your head. "What, marrying off someone so much younger to someone so much older?" "Yes," Riel answers, "but I was also referring to the ordeal of marriage itself. Quite a scary thing." He smiles, and you think he might be joking—but it's hard to tell. <<include "rieltalkminister">>

"<i>If</i> he's guilty," Riel replies, unmoved. "And if he is, he has far more things to worry about than his birthday, I promise that." <<include "rieltalkminister">>

Riel smiles slightly. "I would never imply such a thing," he answers smoothly. "It was purely hypothetical." <<include "rieltalkminister">>

"Will you feel guilty if we end up taking him into custody?" you ask him. Riel shrugs. "I have no personal loyalty to the man," he replies delicately, "though of course I do my utmost to serve him as leader of the Merchants Guild. In the same way the Autarch—or her Grand Inquisitor—oversees the Shepherds' activities and ensures that all is legitimate and up to snuff, so too does the Minister of Trade oversee the Merchants Guild's activities. And, of course, his office performs other duties, such as negotiating with foreign powers for trade agreements and ensuring that imports and exports for the Autarchy are healthy. But I suspect—well, I know—that his deputies and aides are responsible for the bulk of this work. The Minister's primary duties are reporting to the Autarch and being seen as a powerful figure of commerce. Both of which he does capably enough. But if he were to be corrupt, or even Endarkened-touched? I would lose no sleep over… facilitating his arrest." <ul class="choices"> <<if $cunning gte 20>><li><<link '"And <i>you</i> wouldn\'t have ambitions to become Minister of Trade yourself… would you?"' 'andyouwouldnthaveambitionstobecomeminister'>><<setriel +1>><<setcunning +1>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link '"So you\'re not close to him."' 'soyourenotclosetohim'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Riel's expression doesn't change, but his eyes glint slightly. "Who but the heavens may know?" he asks softly. <<include "rieltalkminister">>

Riel nods in affirmation. "Though our offices exchange some correspondence, we see each other in person perhaps a handful of times a year," he answers idly.<<nobr>><<if $prihinesafe is true or $bothsafe is true>> "…Less now that he's married. I find his wife to be… spirited. Having dinner with them taxes me." <<else>> "Less, if I can help it. He does drone on about the One-God entirely too much." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "rieltalkminister">>

Riel gives you one last glance and nods. "I have other things to tend to before tonight," he says. "We'll convene back here at sunset and then set off to the Minister's mansion. Until then—lie low and tell no one, not even my own merchants, who you are or what you're doing. I vet them all thoroughly, but even I can't prevent it if any of them strike upon the foolish notion of spiriting that news to the Minister." With that last businesslike parting, he departs. <<include "ebertconfront">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Sometime later...</span></div></div>' "ebertconfront2">><</link>></center>

Blade and Trouble are not outside of Riel's offices when you change back into your uniform and step back out: that doesn't surprise you, though, as they're still probably being wrangled in or out of their own gala outfits. There <i>is</i> someone lurking in an alcove, though, between an artfully-fragmented vase and a stern-looking bust—and this person you are less pleased to see. Ebert. He glances around furtively to make sure you're alone before addressing you. You wonder if he's about to say something nasty or if he's just afraid of being seen with a Diminished. "So," he says gruffly. "A Shepherd now." <ul class="choices"> <<if $staycaine is true>><li><<link '"That\'s right. Ironic, isn\'t it? You once tried to report me to the Autarchy, and now I work for the Autarch herself."' 'thatsrightironicisntit'>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link '"Yes--but even the uniform won\'t stop me from beating you black and blue if you ever show your face to me again."' 'yesbuteventheuniformwont'>><<setcompassionate -3>><</link>></li> <<if $cainejoin is true>><li><<link '"Yes. Caine is one now, too, actually."' 'yescaineisonenowtoo'>><<set $cainesmomtell to true>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link 'Ignore him. Responding to him would be a waste of breath.' 'ignorehimresponding'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Ebert colors. "I was doing it for the boy," he snarls. Purple-faced and hunch-shouldered, he looks so much like an animal or some sort of goblin that you want to laugh. "I was protecting him." <<nobr>><<if $cainedead is true or $bothdead is true>> A bitter laugh rises within you like bile. "Oh, is that so?" you ask, advancing on him despite yourself. Ebert tenses and shifts backwards until his back is pressed against the ornate wall. "Were you protecting him when you abandoned him in a city to fend for himself? Were you protecting him when you let him die, buried in some unmarked hole in the ground?" Your voice gets louder. "Does his family even know he's dead?" <br><br> Ebert's eyes bulge. "You were the one at the wedding, not me," he shoots back. Despite physically cowering, his eyes do not look afraid of you. "You were the one who let him die." <<include "killebert">> <<else>> You can't help but laugh at that. "I'm taking care of him better than you ever did," you tell him. "You never cared about his wellbeing. You were just satisfying your own ego and hatred." <br><br> Ebert's lip curls, and his eyes blaze in his face. <<include "yellebert">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Ebert's eyes bulge. "You threatening me, Diminished?" "Of course I am, you daft man," you say softly, drawing closer. Despite his brave front, you notice that Ebert flinches backwards, behind the safety of the bust. "And if you don't want to be swallowing your teeth in the next second, you'd best get out of my way." Ebert's lip curls. <<include "yellebert">>

Ebert's eyes bulge. "What're you babbling on about?" he snarls. "Exactly what I said," you tell him. "Your old apprentice is now apprenticed with the Shepherds: a group of powerful Diminished who stand for everything you hate. How does that make you feel?" Ebert colors until his face turns nearly puce. "Converted him to your ways, just as I always thought," he mutters. "That's what I was tryin' ta protect him from. Well. It doesn't matter what I think—only what his mother thinks. I bet you <i>she</i> doesn't know about all this, does she?" This throws you off. <<nobr>><<if $cainetime lt 1>> You've never heard Caine mention his mother. <</if>><</nobr>> "I—" Ebert smirks, triumph in his eyes. <<include "yellebert">>

Ebert smirks at you, triumph in his eyes. "Coward," he spits. <<include "yellebert">>

"Your clothes may be different, but you're still the same. You'll always be trash." <<include "killebert">>

<<nobr>><<if $strength gte 20>> <<set $hitebert to true>> You swing, and the force of your blow is meteoric; you feel the crunch of cartilage as your fist connects with his face, and you know you've broken Ebert's nose. He howls and topples backwards, knocking over the vase behind him with a terrific crash. <br><br> Aerin, Riel's assistant, comes running from around the corner, and she stops and gawks at Ebert lying in a groaning, disorientated heap on the floor. <br><br> "Holy Haelfire," she exclaims, falling to her knees. "What did you <i>do</i>?" <br><br> "Just gave him a taste of what he deserves," you answer, rotating your wrist experimentally. <br><br> Aerin looks at you in awe just as Ebert spits out a tooth. "You'd better get out of here before anyone else sees," she tells you. She means it to come out stern, but you think an approving smile plays around her mouth. "I'll get him cleaned up and out of here before this becomes a scene." <br><br> You walk away, feeling the burn of satisfaction that has been a long time in coming. <br><br> <<include "gala">> <<else>> You swing, but Ebert sees the movement and raises his arm to block your fist before you can punch him in the face. You swing with your other arm, and he catches that one, too; the two of you struggle for a moment together before you send him toppling backwards, knocking over the vase behind him with a terrific crash. <br><br> "Help!" Ebert screams. "<i>I'm being attacked! The Diminished is attacking me!</i>" <br><br> Aerin, Riel's assistant, comes running from around the corner, and she stops and gawks at Ebert as he lies there and screams bloody murder. <br><br> "Holy Haelfire," she exclaims, looking at you with wide eyes. "What did you <i>do</i>?" <br><br> "Just gave him a taste of what he deserves," you answer, rotating your wrist experimentally. <br><br> Aerin looks at you, a bit awed, a bit frightened. "You'd better get out of here before anyone else sees," she tells you. She means it to come out stern, but you think an approving smile plays around her mouth. "I'll get him cleaned up and out of here before this becomes a scene." At Ebert she snaps: "Shut up, you." <br><br> You walk away, feeling the burn of satisfaction that has been a long time in coming. <br><br> <<include "gala">> <</if>><</nobr>>

You turn away, deciding that silence is the most stinging insult you can deal this pathetic fool: you walk away and let the chilling emptiness say all you need to. Ebert continues ranting and raving behind you, but his vitriol falls on deaf ears. You're the one with the power now. <<include "gala">>

You lean close to him and stare into his eyes. "This <i>trash</i> has powerful connections, Ebert," you whisper to him. You watch as his eyes widen. "More powerful than your own: no one wants to defend you when you act like such an ass to everyone you know. Your guild is ejecting you, and you'll be blacklisted in Haven. Who's going to be the trash then?" "Y-you're lying," Ebert stammers, bug-eyed now. "I don't believe you." You laugh. "You'll find out soon enough." You turn and walk away then, leaving Ebert standing there, stinking of fear and sweat as he contemplates his own uncertain future… <<include "gala">>

You lean close to him and stare into his eyes. "This <i>trash</i> has powerful connections, Ebert," you whisper to him. You watch as his eyes widen. "More powerful than your own. Guess who's about to be driven out of this guild—out of the very city itself? Guess who's going to be stripped of his titles, his licenses and his papers and his status: guess who's going to be begging for scraps in some alleyway in Brunen in a month's time?" You shake your head. "You're the one who's trash. Not me." "You're lying," Ebert croaks now, his face shiny with a sheen of sweat. "I don't believe you." You laugh. "You'll find out soon enough." You turn and walk away then, leaving the man standing there, stinking of fear and sweat as he contemplates his own uncertain future… <<include "gala">>

Later, Aerin comes to find you as you stand in the Merchants Guild's expensive atrium, cooling your heels on a bench. <<nobr>><<if $hitebert is true>> "Well," the pink-haired woman says, wiping her ringed hands on a handkerchief, "I've got him bundled out of the building, for all that he was doing his best to caterwaul and bring the roof down with shouts about being attacked by 'a Diminished assassin.' Joke's on him: everyone's so used to his blustering and bellowing that no one even came to take a look." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Thanks for handling all of that. I don\'t know what got into me."' 'thanksforhandlingall'>><<setcharisma +1>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Sorry you had to deal with that."' 'sorryyouhadtodealwiththat'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Should have just left him to choke on his blood."' 'shouldhavejustlefthimtochoke'>><<setcompassionate -8>><<setcharisma -3>><</link>></li> </ul> <<else>> "I saw what happened," the pink-haired woman says quietly, leaning against the wall opposite of you and folding her hands behind her back. "I'm sorry that he's as unpleasant to you as he's been to me. I can't imagine how many times I've thought about just letting loose and giving him a black eye." <br><br> "I definitely thought about it," you state dryly. <br><br> She smiles, her lips pulled up at the corners so that her expression seems a bit sly and catlike. "Well, he's gone now," she says. <<if $punishebert is true or $punishebertmore is true>> "Hopefully it's the last we ever have to see of him." <<else>> "With any luck, a carthorse will run him over and deal with the problem for us." <</if>> <br><br> <<include "gala3">> <</if>><</nobr>>

"I do," she mutters, cutting you a knowing look. "And I should be the one thanking you, honestly. I've had to put up with that man making all sorts of disgusting comments towards me for years. I've often fantasized about giving him a black eye. I'm just glad someone finally had the stones to do it." <<include "gala3">>

She shrugs. "It's part of my job. Well—dealing with unhappy people, shuffling them out of the way, that kind of thing. We don't normally see violence in the Merchants Guild, but there's a first time for everything." She smiles, a little bitterly. "Besides, I can't say it wasn't satisfying. I've had to put up with that prig making all sorts of disgusting comments about me for <i>years</i>." <<include "gala3">>

She cuts you a look. "As it was, I think he did swallow a few of his teeth," she states lightly. "And if I'd let him get blood on the floor, Riel would have had apoplexy. He's very neat, our guildmaster." She examines her own spotless handkerchief, folding it over and over her hands. "And anyway, it was satisfying enough that you punched him. I've had to put up with that prig making all sorts of disgusting comments about me for <i>years</i>. I'm glad someone finally had the stones to put him in his place." <<include "gala3">>

"You never told Riel that Ebert was bothering you?" you ask her. From what you can glean of the enigmatic guildmaster, he seems to care about his employees. Aerin makes a face. "Ebert was always… careful, with me," she says after a moment. "He never said anything that I could point out and say outright, 'Look, that's awful.' It was always… little things, the way he'd curl his lip or roll his eyes when I talked, the way he'd brush past me like I wasn't even there, or just stupid comments under his breath that he could always say was really about someone or something else. Really annoying, but nothing new or outrageous enough for me to kick up a fuss about it. In the end, he was just another…" She makes a vague gesture with her hand, slim fingers ablaze in the light with various jewelry and rings, but you get the gist of what she means to say. Just another face in a long line of people who are absolute bastards to people like you. "So I never bothered bringing it up with Riel. He has enough on his plate, and I could deal with Ebert." She pauses, gifts you a little smile. "Doesn't mean I'm not glad to see you knock him down a few pegs." You fall silent for a moment, studying each other. <<include "aerinnightwood">>

The Merchants Guild is notoriously comprised of primarily wealthy Norm merchants, many of whom come from well-bred stock: with her pink hair and <i>iladrin</i>, Aerin certainly stands out among the crowd, especially as Riel's powerful right-hand woman. You can't help but wonder how she found her way into the position—it was clear from his simpering that someone like Ebert would have killed to have the guildmaster's ear the way she does. She smiles. "Riel, among many things, is very logic-based," she says. "He finds things like discrimination based on race and Diminished blood abhorrent—though he sometimes has to keep these opinions to himself, lest more powerful figures decide they're good reasons to target him or remove him from his seat. Anyway, he only cares about things like skill and commitment: he didn't think twice about hiring me, when it came down to it, even with my Mage blood. And I'm grateful. It's been a privilege to work with him and see the guild's innermost mechanisms, how it all works. You can really see the way power and gold shift the world, right here in these very hallways. Decisions made in these meeting rooms have ripple effects all across the known world, whether people are aware of it or not. It's fascinating to see." She pauses; then her expression turns a little impish. "And it doesn't hurt that he's a brilliant businessman as well as a leader. I've made more money just following his investment strategies than I ever would have just running my shop." "You have a shop?" you ask. She nods. "Most of the people who work for the guild also have their own businesses," she states. "It's all an interconnected economy; the profits from our businesses pay our membership dues, and our guild membership helps us shape and contribute to policies that in turn benefit our businesses. Most days, I'm too busy to go down and work in it myself—I've hired my own assistants and managers to run it all, most of the time—but the shop is how Riel and I first met, years ago." Her look turns fond. "He came in to peruse the wares, and then he made some little fickle comment about how a Corellan vase was really from Scanra, because the paint used a special technique of mixing gold dust into the pigment, which only Scanran artisans are allowed to use. But I'd bought the vase from Corell myself—the artist is Corellan, but his wife is Scanran—so I stood my ground and argued that it was the form that gave it the classification, not the painting technique… Anyway, before I knew it, we were in a raging argument, and I was telling him to get out of my shop before I broke the vase over his head." "And he offered you a <i>job</i>?" you ask incredulously. She laughs, the sound pleasing and melodic. "Practically on the spot. I knew what I was talking about, I didn't back down, and I wasn't afraid to challenge him. Surprisingly hard things to come by, if you take his word for it. Mostly I think he could just tell I was good at making money, had a good head on my shoulders, and that we would get along. He's fabulously picky with people, and he can sense things like that ahead of time. So… he asked if I would be interested in working with him, and here I am." <ul class="choices"> <<if $charisma gte 25>><li><<link '"Where did you come from, before Haven?"' 'wheredidyoucomefromhaven'>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link '"What\'s the name of your shop? What does it sell?"' 'whatsthenameofyourshopsell'>><</link>></li> </ul>

She hesitates for the briefest moment before answering, though she seems a bit reluctant. "All over the place," she says after a beat, her voice deliberately airy—though pitched lower, as if to discourage eavesdroppers from listening in. "Mercantilism runs in my blood, you see: both of my parents were traders. I spent my early years on the road with them, traveling around in a great 'van. There were other families in the 'van, too, other children to play with, even something like a little traveling school… so that was our life for many years." You listen in silence, waiting for her to go on. Speaking about one's parents in past tense is never good news. Aerin sighs and continues. "One day, something happened," she begins. "I know that sounds vague, but I was young and the memory is blurry. My parents were meeting with a business associate of theirs, in some town. We'd broken away from the caravan to detour to it, and we were going to join up with them after we were done. I was supposed to be paying attention, supposed to be learning from them—studying how transactions and deals were made, that kind of thing—but I was distracted. There was candy nearby, something like that, so I was thinking of it, looking around at some stall… and then the next thing I knew, they were having it out. My parents used magic, I guess: maybe in the wares they were trying to sell, or maybe in self-defense, I don't even know. I wasn't watching." She sucks in a sharp breath, and the movement hollows her cheeks. "They begged the man—who they'd known for years—not to report them to the Inquisitors, not to rat them out. He agreed: I remember he agreed, and that they paid him a lot of money for his silence. We weren't even a half-hour out of town before the Inquisitors came and shot them dead on the spot." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"<<c god>>."' 'wheredidyoucomefromhaven2'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'m so sorry..."' 'wheredidyoucomefromhaven2'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"That\'s awful."' 'wheredidyoucomefromhaven2'>><</link>></li> </ul>

She nods briefly. "They spared me, though," she says, her expression brittle. "The Inquisitors. Not sure why. Most of the time, when you get rid of the parents, you get rid of their offspring—we're already corrupted in their eyes, you know? Bound to follow in the sins of our forebears. But they weren't interested in me. As far as they were concerned, <i>I</i> hadn't committed any crime; I hadn't used any magic. So they let me go. And I ran." Her ringed fingers come up to rub her slender arms, as if to protect herself against a sudden chill. "I ran clear to the next town, convinced they were going to change their minds at the last second, that they were going to hunt me down and shoot me next. I changed my name and face, after that." She looks away. "Eventually I grew up, and I started my shop. And… here I am today." Then she straightens and cuts you an unreadable look. "Anyway. Let's talk about something else." Out of respect for her wishes, you decide to change the subject. <<include "aerinnightwood">>

"Oh, a bit of everything," Aerin says airily. "Art, jewelry, pottery, foreign wares. It's called the Raven's Ring." You arch your brows. That's quite the famous shop—and <i>very</i> successful, from what you've heard. Aerin catches your look and tosses her pink hair, a bit smugly. <<include "aerinnightwood">>

You've gotten bolder, since joining the Shepherds: while it was a commonplace way of introducing oneself to other Mages before the Castigation, asking this question is definitely rarer nowadays. Still, you've lost much of your fear regarding the Autarchy and its anti-magic laws… and your sense for those who actively practice magic, even in absolute secrecy, has gotten sharper. Aerin strikes you as one of those. "Oh, I'm a Whisperer," she says brightly. Huh. Whisperers are essentially Binders, except instead of working with artifacts and talismans, they typically bind spirits and energies to… the dead. Aerin doesn't seem very conscious or embarrassed by this incredibly unorthodox pursuit. "For a long time, my puppets were my only friends," she says with a guileless shrug. "I know that strikes most people as odd. But I am who I am." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"But... why the dead? Couldn\'t you make puppets out of... <i>actual puppets</i>?"' 'butwhythedeadcouldnt'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I... see. That\'s... nice."' 'iseethatsnice'>><</link>></li> <<if $specialization is "binder">><li><<link '"I\'d love to hear more." You\'ve dabbled a little in Whispering yourself, but you\'ve never met anyone who was an active practitioner in it.' 'idlovetohearmoreyouvedabbled'>><</link>></li><</if>> </ul>

"Why <i>not</i> the dead?" she objects. "Corpses are just lifeless matter, the same as felt or wool or cotton. It's only a cultural perception that differentiates them. Once you get around that, you see that it's not harming anybody, least of all the deceased. <i>They</i> don't need their bodies anymore. Spirits, on the other hand—they find that flesh and bone are much better anchors for them, instead of cold metal suits or rigid stone statues. I'm just… giving them a better house to live in. Like selling a customer the right item, tailored for their needs." Huh. Her green eyes dart around suddenly, though the atrium remains ringingly silent. "We shouldn't talk about this here," she finishes in a low voice. "Even with Riel in charge, you never know which of the rank and file might be listening: he can't control them all. Maybe some other time." <<include "aerinnightwood">>

She regards you shrewdly for a moment before shrugging. "You asked, I answered." She doesn't seem very affected by your reaction: she's a more eccentric figure than you first assumed, it seems. <<include "aerinnightwood">>

Her green eyes dart around, though the atrium remains ringingly silent. "Not here," she says in a low voice. "Even with Riel in charge, you never know which of the rank and file might be listening: he can't control them all. Maybe some other time." <<include "aerinnightwood">>

"Mostly, I assist Riel," she says, "who basically <i>is</i> the guild. I take care of his schedule, his appointments, who comes to see him, how quickly they have to talk, his communications, that kind of thing. That's the surface work, anyway. Behind the scenes, I'm also handling much of the bookkeeping and busywork for the guild, running a whole team of staffers to keep things running smoothly… and also doing <i>research</i>." The way she says this last word is very pointed, as if she's forming quotations with her fingers without actually moving. "What kind of research?" you ask, curious. Aerin clears her throat pointedly. "Research that Riel needs to know. About his rivals, certain businesses in the city… That sort of thing." Ah. You think you take her point. <<nobr>><<if $cunning gte 30>> She's like Shery, but with more corporate espionage, intelligence-gathering, and potential blackmail involved. <</if>><</nobr>> "It sounds like the Merchants Guild operates a little like a well-oiled crime syndicate," you comment. <<nobr>><<if $charisma lt 35>> "Almost like Thieves Guild." <br><br> Aerin stiffens, clearly offended by this insinuation. "We are <i>nothing</i> like those rotten scoundels," she says with sudden venom. "They're criminals, for one thing, and everything we do is on the side of the law. For another, <i>we</i> don't hurt hard-working people for profit when we could be putting our skills to better uses." <br><br> Oops. Time to change the subject before you insult her further. <<include "aerinnightwood">> <<else>> Aerin winks and taps the side of her nose. "You didn't hear it from me." <<include "aerinnightwood">> <</if>><</nobr>>

"The best," Aerin says adamantly. "I know he has a reputation for being cutthroat among certain circles, but that's only when people deserve it. He's actually very fair, if a tad too practical and adverse to emotion at times—but he's generous, too, and charitable. He pours money into Diminished schools and orphanages through filter businesses that disguise his identity. He's a great man, even if he thinks people knowing it is exposing some kind of weakness. And I do believe he might be one of the smartest people alive. The guild has flourished under his leadership, though some members were initially skeptical of his youth and more radical business plans. Those plans have always panned out in his favor, though, and he's always gotten naysayers on board and in line." She shakes her head. "If you've ever got to bet on one side with Riel and any other side, pick Riel's. I've never seen him be beat, not permanently, not even once." High praise. It makes you feel better about charging into the lion's den with a non-combatant at your side. <<include "aerinnightwood">>

"You'll have to ask him that yourself," Aerin says politely. "Good luck, though: he doesn't talk much about his personal life or his past, not unless he really respects you. All I can say is that he's the youngest guildmaster in Haven's history, and he got here through sheer wits, ambition, and cunning. And brilliant business tactics. He's become one of the richest <i>merquisants</i>"—this is trade-specific slang for someone with "new" money, a person as wealthy as an aristocrat but lacking aristocratic lineage or blood—"in the city in just eight years. And he did it all on his own." "Where did he come from, though?" you press. "Where was he educated?" Aerin shrugs. "Like I said, you'll have to ask him all that yourself. As his assistant, I can't give out that information without his say-so, or else I risk losing his trust. He hates people who blab." <<include "aerinnightwood">>

Aerin checks her timepiece before easing herself off of the wall. "Well, it was nice to chat," she says. "I'd better go and fetch the others—they should be done with their tailoring by now. If I don't see you beforehand, good luck with the mission tonight. Hopefully we can talk again soon." Then she pauses mid-step, watching you out of the corner of her eye, her head canted slightly back. "And, <<c firstname>>? Do me a favor and keep Riel safe tonight, would you?" "I'll do my best," you tell her, though you add you can't think what danger the guildmaster would be in at a party. Aerin smiles and makes her way out of the atrium. "One thing I've learned in this business? You just never know." <<include "aerinnightwood2">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "ministergalaintro">><</link>></center>

Finally, the time comes to attend the Minister's gala. "Remember," Riel says, brushing down the front of his subdued but very fine dark suit: "We are looking for evidence of the Minister's connection to Black Sun or an Endarkened—all the better if you can prove dabbling by a Faceless Lord, which the Autarch will not be able to ignore. With the right proof we can depose him, have him thrown in prison… and have his entire Black Sun operation dismantled." He mulls it over for a moment. "<i>If</i> you're correct and this isn't just a decoy by the Thieves Guild." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"We\'re correct."' 'ministergalaintro2'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I suspect you wouldn\'t be going along with this if you didn\'t think we were correct."' 'ministergalaintro2'>><<setriel +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"We\'ll see."' 'ministergalaintro2'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Riel makes a sonorous sound. "Indeed." He straightens his tie. "I will do my best to accompany you throughout the evening, but it may attract attention if I slip away from the party proper. No one will notice if <i>you</i> go missing, though, so when the time is right, you should try to investigate the mansion. Discreetly." He glances at Blade, looking silent and tense in his regal military coat, and Trouble, yanking at his dark red tie like it's strangling him. "Commander Bronwyn and Vice-Commander Alder will pose as my bodyguards: I suspect it's a better guise for them than having to pretend to be diplomats of some kind." <<nobr>><<if $goggles is true>> He glances at your goggles. "You won't be able to wear those inside, so your <i>iladrin</i> will be visible; unfortunately, that means you'll have to pose as…" <<include "disguise">> <<else>> He glances at your eyes. "Your <i>iladrin</i> will be visible, so you'll have to pose as…" <<include "disguise">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<set $disguise to "">> <ul class="choices"> <<if $strength gte 25>><li><<link '"...another bodyguard?"' 'anotherbodyguard'>><<set $disguise to "bodyguard">><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $intelligence gte 25>><li><<link '"...a visiting scholar?"' 'avisitingscholar'>><<set $disguise to "scholar">><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $charisma gte 25>><li><<link '"...one of your merchants?"' 'oneofyourmerchants'>><<set $disguise to "merchant">><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link '"...one of your servants?"' 'oneofyourservants'>><<set $disguise to "servant">><</link>></li> </ul>

Riel's lips quirk. "I will look quite the picture, coming with a retinue of three bodyguards," he notes, "but yes, I think that will do just fine. Just follow Blade and Trouble's leads and don't talk too much." <<include "disguiseend">>

Riel's expression smooths into one of relief. "Yes, I think that will work," he says. "You can make your academic talk so stuffy that the nobles will avoid you like the plague, leaving you free to investigate." <<include "disguiseend">>

Riel's expression smooths into one of relief. "Yes, I think that will work," he says. "So long as you can bluff knowledge about trade routes and some backstory about coming from a foreign land—without coming off as too memorable, of course." <<include "disguiseend">>

Riel winces. "Unfortunately, it's the most plausible explanation for why I have a Mage accompanying me to this party—at least to the Norm nobles in attendance. I deeply apologize for this indignity, no matter how necessary it might be." Aerin, who's helping with preparations, huffs. "Don't worry, I have to deal with it, too," she tells you. "I've been his right-hand for <i>years</i> and people still give me funny looks." Riel looks sincerely regretful. "These are backwards times we're living in, I'm afraid." <<include "disguiseend">>

You nod. "Should we go by false names, just to be safe?" He inclines his head. "That would be wise. What would you like to be called?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Lyra..."' 'disguiseend2'>><<set $falsename to "Lyra">><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Amaya..."' 'disguiseend2'>><<set $falsename to "Amaya">><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Daine..."' 'disguiseend2'>><<set $falsename to "Daine">><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Nahri..."' 'disguiseend2'>><<set $falsename to "Nahri">><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Circe..."' 'disguiseend2'>><<set $falsename to "Circe">><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Tynan..."' 'disguiseend2'>><<set $falsename to "Tynan">><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Vestier..."' 'disguiseend2'>><<set $falsename to "Vestier">><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Something else...' 'disguiseend2'>><<script>>Dialog.setup("Alias"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("disguisecustomname").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>><</link>></li> </ul>

Input your false first name. <<textbox "$falsename" "Ashryn">> <center><<button "Confirm">><<set $falsename to $falsename.toUpperFirst()>><<if $falsename is "">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Please enter a first name.<</replace>> <<elseif $falsename is "Blade" or $falsename is "blade">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that name is unavailable.<</replace>> <<elseif $falsename is "Trouble" or $falsename is "trouble">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that name is unavailable.<</replace>> <<elseif $falsename is "Tallys" or $falsename is "tallys">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that name is unavailable.<</replace>> <<elseif $falsename is "Shery" or $falsename is "shery">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that name is unavailable.<</replace>> <<elseif $falsename is "Riel" or $falsename is "Riel">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that name is unavailable.<</replace>> <<elseif $falsename is "Chase" or $falsename is "chase">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that name is unavailable.<</replace>> <<elseif $falsename is "Red" or $falsename is "red">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that name is unavailable.<</replace>> <<elseif $falsename is "Ayla" or $falsename is "ayla">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that name is unavailable.<</replace>> <<elseif $falsename is "Halek" or $falsename is "halek">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that name is unavailable.<</replace>> <<elseif $falsename is "Briony" or $falsename is "briony">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that name is unavailable.<</replace>> <<elseif $falsename is "Lavinet" or $falsename is "lavinet">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that name is unavailable.<</replace>> <<elseif $falsename is "Prihine" or $falsename is "prihine">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that name is unavailable.<</replace>> <<elseif $falsename is "Caine" or $falsename is "caine">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that name is unavailable.<</replace>> <<elseif $falsename is "Mimir" or $falsename is "mimir">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that name is unavailable.<</replace>> <<elseif $falsename is "Croelle" or $falsename is "croelle">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that name is unavailable.<</replace>> <<elseif $falsename is "Autarch" or $falsename is "autarch">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that name is unavailable.<</replace>> <<elseif $falsename is "Naolin" or $falsename is "naolin">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that name is unavailable.<</replace>> <<elseif $falsename is "Moonsilk" or $falsename is "moonsilk">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that name is unavailable.<</replace>> <<elseif $falsename is "Gladius" or $falsename is "gladius">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that name is unavailable.<</replace>> <<elseif $falsename is "Ornos" or $falsename is "ornos">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that name is unavailable.<</replace>> <<elseif $falsename is "Enik" or $falsename is "enik">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that name is unavailable.<</replace>> <<elseif $falsename is "Ebert" or $falsename is "ebert">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that name is unavailable.<</replace>> <<elseif $falsename is "Chandry" or $falsename is "chandry">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that name is unavailable.<</replace>> <<elseif $falsename is "Justyn" or $falsename is "justyn">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that name is unavailable.<</replace>> <<elseif $falsename is "Cybele" or $falsename is "cybele">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that name is unavailable.<</replace>> <<elseif $falsename is "Ysa" or $falsename is "ysa">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that name is unavailable.<</replace>> <<elseif $falsename is "Daren" or $falsename is "daren">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that name is unavailable.<</replace>> <<elseif $falsename is "Saya" or $falsename is "saya">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that name is unavailable.<</replace>> <<elseif $falsename is "Pan" or $falsename is "pan">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that name is unavailable.<</replace>> <<elseif $falsename is "Neon" or $falsename is "neon">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that name is unavailable.<</replace>> <<elseif $falsename is "Kato" or $falsename is "kato">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that name is unavailable.<</replace>> <<else>> <<replace "#textbox-error">><</replace>> <<goto "disguiseend2">> <<run Dialog.close()>> <</if>><</button>><br><span id="textbox-error"></span></center>

<ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"...Blackwood."' 'disguiseend3'>><<set $falsesurname to "Blackwood">><</link>></li> <li><<link '"...Thornheart." ' 'disguiseend3'>><<set $falsesurname to "Thornheart">><</link>></li> <li><<link '"...Stonesmith."' 'disguiseend3'>><<set $falsesurname to "Stonesmith">><</link>></li> <li><<link '"...Harpe."' 'disguiseend3'>><<set $falsesurname to "Harpe">><</link>></li> <li><<link '"...Dara."' 'disguiseend3'>><<set $falsesurname to "Dara">><</link>></li> <li><<link '"...Swuthersul."' 'disguiseend3'>><<set $falsesurname to "Swuthersul">><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Something else...' 'disguiseend3'>><<script>>Dialog.setup("Alias"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("disguisecustomname2").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>><</link>></li> </ul>

Input your false surname. <<textbox "$falsesurname" "Azeron">> <center><<button "Confirm">><<set $falsesurname to $falsesurname.toUpperFirst()>><<if $falsesurname is "">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Please enter a surname.<</replace>> <<elseif $falsesurname is "Bronwyn" or $falsesurname is "bronwyn">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that name is unavailable.<</replace>> <<elseif $falsesurname is "Alder" or $falsesurname is "alder">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that name is unavailable.<</replace>> <<elseif $falsesurname is "Ironwood" or $falsesurname is "ironwood">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that name is unavailable.<</replace>> <<elseif $falsesurname is "Acquell" or $falsesurname is "acquell">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that name is unavailable.<</replace>> <<elseif $falsesurname is "Syndran" or $firstname is "syndran">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that name is unavailable.<</replace>> <<elseif $falsesurname is "Trinaeste" or $falsesurname is "trinaeste">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that name is unavailable.<</replace>> <<elseif $falsesurname is "Antiqua" or $falsesurname is "antiqua">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that name is unavailable.<</replace>> <<elseif $falsesurname is "Aescar" or $falsesurname is "aescar">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that name is unavailable.<</replace>> <<elseif $falsesurname is "Prince" or $falsesurname is "prince">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that name is unavailable.<</replace>> <<elseif $falsesurname is "Stormbreaker" or $falsesurname is "stormbreaker">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that name is unavailable.<</replace>> <<elseif $falsesurname is "Naveen" or $falsesurname is "naveen">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that name is unavailable.<</replace>> <<elseif $falsesurname is "Tavadon" or $falsesurname is "tavadon">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that name is unavailable.<</replace>> <<elseif $falsesurname is "Esthin" or $falsesurname is "esthin">><<replace "#textbox-error">> Sorry, that name is unavailable.<</replace>> <<else>> <<replace "#textbox-error">><</replace>> <<goto "disguiseend3">> <<run Dialog.close()>> <</if>><</button>><br><span id="textbox-error"></span></center>

"Shit, you even thought of a fake last name?" Trouble exclaims. "Uh, I'll be… Ulric. No last name. Because… I'm an orphan." "I'll be Vyncent Corby," Blade supplies smoothly. When everyone looks at him, his face stays impassive. "I have many false names in rotation." Trouble snorts. "Should have picked one of them instead of Blade," he mutters to you from the side of his mouth. "That sounds like the fakest name of all." "You're one to talk, <i>Trouble</i>." Riel interrupts a bout of sharp nudging that soon threatens to turn into violence. "Well, then," he says lightly. "Shall we go to my coach?" He leads you outside to the front of the Merchants Guild, where a fine and impressive carriage is stationed, replete with real glass windows (curtained from the public for privacy) and a set of magnificent working horses, their coats brushed to shining. A coachman opens up one of the doors for Riel and he steps up into the contraption as if he rides in it every day—which he most likely does. He turns to regard the three of you from inside the lavish coach. "Well?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'I\'m not going in that monstrosity. It\'s pretentious. I\'ll walk.' 'walk'>><<setriel -5>><<setcunning -3>><<setstrength +1>><<settrouble +1>><<setloyal -3>><<setreputation -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Climb up into the coach and sit beside him.' 'coach'>><<setblade +1>><<setriel +3>><<setloyal +4>><<setreputation +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Riel stares at you like you've gone insane. "You can't <i>walk</i> to the Minister's gala," he says, genuinely aghast. "It's… it's not done! They'll never let you in past the gates!" He points at your feet with his walking cane. "Your dress shoes aren't made for the climb to Hightown!" You shrug. "I'm sure it'll be fine." "I'm with $halfname," Trouble says then, stuffing his hands in his pockets. You're not even sure if his dress pants are supposed to have pockets. "I'm not going in that thing. We'll meet you guys there." Riel's nostrils flare. "If you insist," he grinds out. He turns to look out the window on the other side of the carriage, obviously irritated by your unexpected and unorthodox decision, as Blade moves to climb in. "I'll go," he says flatly, shifting so his sword won't stab him as he sits. He looks rather ridiculous, a dark-haired and imposing Ket sitting in a plush carriage that looks too small for him. "It won't look convincing unless at least one of Riel's bodyguards actually accompanies him." He looks at the two of you and nods. "See you at the manse." <<include "walk2">>

Trouble shies away just as Blade climbs in after you. "I'm not going in that thing," he declares, looking skittish. He stuffs his hands in his pockets; you're not even sure if his dress pants are supposed to have pockets. "I'll meet you guys there." Riel looks at Blade, who shrugs. "Fine," the Ket says to Trouble, moving to close the door. "Meet us there. Don't keep us waiting, and <i>don't</i> get into any fights." Trouble waves you off. "Yeah, yeah." <<include "coach2">>

Riel sighs as the carriage begins to pull away, rattling over the driveway of the Merchants Guild and into the cobbled streets. "Is he always so much… trouble?" he asks. Then he looks aghast at his own play on words. "No, don't answer that." The three of you fall silent as the coach clatters its way past the citizens of the Market Quarter. Riel draws the curtains slightly as great plumes of hot dust flower up from the street; dogs and street vendors drowse in the warmth, and children call out to each other as they help their parents shutter the many shopfronts and stalls lining the avenue. Blade and Riel seem lost in their own thoughts. You could break the silence, or you could simply concentrate on preparing yourself for this event. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Ask Blade what his battle strategy for tonight is.' 'askbladebattlestrategy'>><<setblade +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Ask Riel if there\'s anyone we should focus on talking to.' 'askrielfocustalk'>><<setriel +1>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Stay silent and keep your thoughts to yourself.' 'rideend'>><</link>></li> </ul>

He looks at you sidelong. "This is not a battleground I’m familiar with,” he replies, with something like a hint of uneasiness. “I fight with swords, not words." "You report to the Autarch," Riel butts in, speaking curiously. "Surely you must have dealings with Sun Courtiers quite frequently." Blade shakes his head. "I deal only with the Autarch's people or the Inquisitors," he says slowly. "I'm not in the habit of rubbing elbows with her politicians. Which is a good thing: I may work for the Sun Court, but I don't trust its inhabitants any more than I trust a knife in my back." He looks at you. "What will be your strategy?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I\'ll be polite, but I won\'t let them get to me. I\'ll act as blank and unreadable as a stone wall, and reveal nothing of my feelings or thoughts."' 'illbepolitebutwontletthem'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'ll listen quietly and dig up information. It might make me forgettable, but at least I\'ll come away with a wealth of knowledge."' 'illlistenquietlyanddig'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'ll flatter and mingle to the best of my ability. If I can blend in with them and impress them with my wit, I might gain an advantage… or even make some powerful friends."' 'illflatterandmingletothebest'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'ll act bold and lively, as if I don\'t care what any of them think. The more memorable and eye-catching I am, the more impressed they\'ll be. They’ll know not to mess with me."' 'illactboldandlively'>><<setcourage +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

"It’s the plan with the fewest risks," Riel concedes from his seat by the window, "but it means they too may reveal nothing of their feelings and thoughts." <<include "rideend">>

“Take care that you don’t come off as slimy,” Riel tells you. “Courtiers won’t appreciate a stranger skulking around and listening to their conversation like some lowly servant. They get enough of that in their daily lives as it is, so they're sensitive to that sort of behavior.” <<include "rideend">>

“Take care that your plan doesn’t backfire,” Riel says sharply. “These courtiers do this every day. They duel with their words and actions as easily as you or I breathe. They may see through your attempts and use them against you.” <<include "rideend">>

Riel makes a skeptical sound through his nose. “Take care that you don’t make a fool out of yourself,” he deadpans. “Courage is all well and good, but if I wanted to bring an ass to court, I would have brought Ebert. Be sure you know the difference between candor and foolishness.” <<include "rideend">>

He looks thoughtful. <<nobr>><<if $prihinefavor is true>> "The Minister's wife, of course, will prove a valuable ally, given that she owes you a debt and must have some insight into what goes on in her husband's daily life. I would start there… but if she doesn't give you anything, I'd look in his house for records, transactional documents, a journal of some kind. Perhaps in his study or his bedroom." <br><br> "Won't that look horrible for both of us, if they catch me, a Diminished spy, rooting around in the Minister's underwear?" <br><br> Riel smiles, but the expression is flinty. "Yes, if you're unable to uncover the right proof and you're caught, we'll likely be thrown in the stocks by sunrise. But such is the danger in the pursuit of justice, no?" He looks a bit abstractly pleased. "It is certainly a new sensation. I find myself rather enjoying it." <br><br> <<include "rideend">> <<else>> <<set $zilka to true>>"I'd start with Zilka, a minor lord and the ambassador to the Jalis Lugalate," Riel says. "Rumor has it that Minister Ushala has some… information about Zilka that caused the man to take up his outpost in the distant desert. Namely proof that Zilka has mixed blood." <br><br> "Mixed blood?" you echo. <br><br> Riel nods. “It’s in the registries,” he says. “Or rather, evidence of his heritage <i>isn’t</i> in the registries, which means he most likely paid dearly to have it disappear. His lineage isn’t traceable past his grandfather’s generation. My guess is that he has a Mage or Elf ancestor somewhere that he doesn’t want other Sun Courtiers to know about. But the absence of proof alone has given rise to nasty rumors, which Zilka has done his best to quash. Word has it that he once killed a man in a duel for questioning his noble blood. The Trade Minister is too powerful for him to risk that, but if this is all true… Zilka might be motivated to give you information that would take the man down in other ways." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"This is making my head spin."' 'thisismakingmyheadspin'>><</link>></li> <<if $intelligence gte 30>><li><<link '"Understood. Thanks for the information."' 'understoodthanksfortheinfo'>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link '"Is having mixed blood really so bad?"' 'ishavingmixedbloodreallybad'>><</link>></li> </ul> <</if>><</nobr>>

Riel shakes his head. "Don't worry overmuch about it. There will be many ways of sniffing out Black Sun, I'm sure: blackmail is just one avenue among several." <<include "rideend">>

Riel inclines his head. "But of course. We're cooperating for the sake of this mission, after all." Quite suddenly he laughs. "Mission—it sounds quite theatrical, doesn't it?" "No," Blade says, a little stiffly. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Yes, it\'s pretty dramatic."' 'yesitsprettydramatic'>><<setriel +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"No. It\'s just work."' 'noitsjustwork'>><<setblade +1>><</link>></li> <<if $cunning gte 20>><li><<link '"For the sake of my job, I\'ll hold my tongue."' 'forthesakeofmyjobillhold'>><<setblade +1>><<setriel +1>><</link>></li><</if>> </ul>

"Quite," Riel agrees, amused. Then he tilts his head. "But I find myself rather liking it." <<include "rideend">>

Riel snorts. "Only a select few on this Continent would ever consider hunting and slaying godlike demons as mere 'work'… but as you say." <<include "rideend">>

Riel laughs: the sound is light and delicate, a warm and mellifluous sound in comparison to his crisp, cool demeanor. Even Blade's mouth quirks in amusement. "Somehow I think you'll have no trouble at all tonight," the merchant leader remarks. <<include "rideend">>

Riel looks grave. "It is if you're a Norm noble vying for the attention of the Autarch," he answers. Then he looks faintly sarcastic. "Whose blood is, of course, pure as the driven snow." Blade shifts and flicks his eyes towards Riel's coachman, sitting on the box seat of the carriage. It doesn't appear he heard, but you all fall silent for the rest of the ride anyway. <<include "rideend">>

Finally you arrive at the Minister's mansion, and with a half-hour to spare. Trouble is already waiting for you, dawdling by the gates and looking strikingly like a well-dressed delinquent, judging by his sullen expression and the hunch in his shoulders. "Good," Riel says as his footman scurries off to have your announcement sent ahead. "You made it. Now wipe that street dust off your hems—by God, what is <i>that</i>?—and straighten that tie, Trouble. We're about to make our way in." <<include "entrance">>

Together you and Trouble leave the Merchant headquarters and walk up the streets of Haven, which glow in the late afternoon. Dogs and street-vendors drowse in the warmth, and hot, gritty clouds of dust puff up around your ankles. Overly-conscious of your slippered feet, you say, "…What if I track dog shit into this minister’s house?" Trouble starts to grin like he can't help himself. "Oh, that'd be such a <i>tragedy</i>," he says, chuckling to himself. "A catastrophe to end all catastrophes. Something fit to end this party early!" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"So... I should do it."' 'walk2b'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"We wouldn\'t want that. I\'m kind of looking forward to this."' 'walk2b'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"That\'d be pretty funny... but we have to put the mission first."' 'walk2b'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Trouble laughs. "I'm kidding, recruit," he answers. Then he pauses thoughtfully. "…Maybe we can do it some other time. Some other mission." You continue walking in easy silence for a bit, observing the shops beginning to close as the sun sinks below the horizon, the children accompanying their parents home from the market. This area of Haven is so much nicer than the Shepherds' Ashtown: it's hard to believe that so many people live in the city's upper crust, so to speak… <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"So what do you think of Riel and the Merchants Guild?"' 'whatdoyouthinkofrielmerchants'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Are you as familiar with this part of Haven as you are with other neighborhoods?"' 'areyouasfamiliarwiththispartofhaven'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"So what\'s your battle strategy for this party?"' 'sowhatsyourebattlestrategyforthisparty'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Trouble cocks his head. "Dunno yet," he says finally, after a moment's thought. "He seems like a decent sort. Smart as a whip. Maybe a little, I dunno—picky? But he'd be a great ally to the Shepherds. I think we can trust him, but…" He shrugs. "You never know with merchant types. They're always rubbing elbows with people in power. That's their job, of course. But that kind of stuff can be really tricky. You've got to do some bad stuff to please the Autarch." He falls silent, and you pick up the thread of the conversation. "You seemed more apt to trust Chase Trinaeste." Trouble shrugs. "Yeah, but that's because I'm more comfortable 'round his sort. All my mates growing up would have ended up in Thieves Guild if they'd known about it, or had lighter fingers. I know how to read his kind. I don't know how to do that with Riel." <<include "walkend">>

Trouble shakes his head, smiling ruefully. "I grew up in this city, so in general, I'd say I know it like the back of my hand," he says. "Every cranny, every backalley, every gutter with good stuff to fish out… But I have to admit, this place and Whitestone are always changing on me. Getting newer, better-looking. The fat cats with deep pockets keep building it up. In a handful of years, I might not be able to recognize it." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Still... It must be nice to know your home so intimately."' 'stillmightbeniceintimately'>><<settrouble +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Change is good. It draws more people to the city."' 'changeisgooddrawsmorepeople'>><<setloyal +2>><<set $troubleharden += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"That\'s no good. Haven is being gentrified?"' 'thatsnogoodhavengentrified'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

You've been traveling so much since your thirteenth birthday that you don't really know what it's like to know a place so well that you notice all of its changes. At your expression, Trouble's eyes widen. "Oh," he begins awkwardly. "Oh, yeah…" Then he forces a smile and puts a hand on your shoulder. "It's your home now, too, <<c halfname>>." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Smile at him. "You\'re right."' 'smileathimyoureright'>><<settrouble +1>><<if $charisma gte 20>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Look away. "We\'ll see."' 'lookawaywellsee'>><<setloyal -2>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Shake off his hand. "Haven will never be my home."' 'shakeoffhandhavenneverhome'>><<settrouble -3>><<if $troubleromanceflag gt 0>><<set $troubleromanceflag -= 1>><</if>><</link>></li> </ul>

Trouble beams back at you, as brilliant as the sun, and his grip on your shoulder briefly tightens. "That's the spirit," he says jovially. <<include "walkend">>

Trouble winces, and his hand falls away. "I hope you'll change your mind," he says softly. <<include "walkend">>

"Not so long as it belongs to the Autarch," you say darkly. Trouble's hand falls away like it's a dead thing. "…Right," he says, his voice low and briefly unreadable. <<include "walkend">>

Trouble strokes his chin. "If you say so," he says doubtfully. But it looks like you've given him some food for thought. <<include "walkend">>

Trouble makes a face. "What's gentrified?" "Like… what you said," you say with a vague gesture. "The rich are changing the city to their tastes. The cultural fabric of the place is being altered to be more high-class." Trouble nods. "Yeah, that's it." Then he shrugs. "Still. Don't know how to stop them, really, short of terrorizing them out of house and home by tracking dog shit into their manors." He grins at you, and you walk on. <<include "walkend">>

Trouble laughs uneasily. "Don't have one," he says, plucking at one of his sleeves. "As you can probably tell. I tell you, <<c halfname>>, I'm great in a fight; really, really bad at talking to a bunch of stuffed turkeys in suits. I'm afraid I'm going to kak it up." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Just relax. I\'m here with you."' 'justrelaximherewithyou'>><<settrouble +1>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"This is unlike you. Normally you charge in headfirst."' 'thisisunlikeyounormally'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You\'d better not kak it up. This is a mission."' 'youdbetternotkakupthismission'>><<setcompassionate -2>><<setloyal +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Just... keep your mouth shut. It\'ll be fine so long as you don\'t talk to anybody."' 'justkeepyourmouthshutitllbefine'>><<setloyal -2>><</link>></li> </ul>

Trouble beams at you, as brilliant as the sun. "Thanks, <<c halfname>>," he says warmly, with genuine gratitude. He raises a hand and punches your shoulder affectionately. "You're a real reliable sort, you know that? I know I can count on you." <<include "walkend">>

Trouble flushes. "I'm out of my element," he croaks, pulling out a handkerchief from his pocket and wiping his brow. "I'm like a fish out of water. Riel wouldn't even let me bring my rifle. I feel so <i>naked</i>." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Now there\'s a thought..." <b>[INNUENDO]</b>' 'nowheresathoughtinnuendo'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Just picture the aristocrats naked. That\'ll help you stop feeling nervous."' 'justpicturethearistocratsnaked'>><<settrouble +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'You can\'t bring a gun with you everywhere."' 'youcantbringagunwithyoueverywhere'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Trouble looks at you blankly. "What thought?" You shake your head. "Never mind." <<include "walkend">>

Trouble grins, one dimple showing. "Yeah, I like that." He shoots you a grateful look. "Thanks, <<c halfname>>." You wink at him. "That's <<c falsename>> to you." <<include "walkend">>

Trouble clucks his tongue impatiently. "Stupid rule," he mutters. "What was that?" "Nothing." <<include "walkend">>

Trouble grumbles to himself. "You and Blade are just two peas in a pod…" <<include "walkend">>

"Yeah, you're probably right," Trouble mutters. "Hopefully I don't put my elbow in the butter or my tie in the punch, or something." <<include "walkend">>

Finally you arrive at the Minister's mansion, and with a half-hour to spare. Riel and Blade are waiting for you at the entrance, and it seems they've just gotten there. "Good," Riel says as his footman scurries off to have your announcement sent ahead. "You made it. Now wipe that street dust off your hems—by God, what is <i>that</i>?—and straighten that tie, Trouble. We're about to make our way in." <<include "entrance">>

You look up at the estate that Prihine married into as the three of you file into the courtyard. It’s a high-walled place, white-stoned after the old fashion, and the courtyard is blanketed in strange vines and exotic blooms. The house itself has no particular character that you can read. It stands simply and squarely, and nothing on its exterior suggests particular wealth or opulence. It’s only the vastness of the place that lets you know it belongs to a noble—you estimate it could comfortably house two hundred bodies. It’s a little galling to think that it all belongs to one man and his cabal of devoted servants. Quite suddenly something rings in your head like a gong. <b><i>Danger, </i></b> a voice blares, as strongly and strangely as a hundred unearthly trumpets—or a chorus of many voices speaking in tandem. <<nobr>><<if $confrontequalists is true>> It's the same voice that spoke to you just before you fought Blaphemel… <</if>><</nobr>> You put a hand to your suddenly-ringing temple. <i>Danger? Danger where?</i> But already, like oil slipping through cracks in the pavement… the voice is abruptly gone. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'What in the world?...' 'entrance2'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Uh-oh...' 'entrance2'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '...' 'entrance2'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Suddenly a hand touches your elbow. You look up to find Blade's dark, perspicacious eyes watching you. "Are you all right?" he asks quietly. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I just heard a voice in my head telling me there\'s danger..."' 'ijustheardavoiceinmyhead'>><<setloyal +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Smile and reassure him. "I\'m fine."' 'smileandreassurehimimfine'>><<setcourage +1>><<if $gender is "female">><<set $bladeromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Pull your elbow away. It\'s none of his business.' 'pullyourelbowawayitsnone'>><<setblade -3>><<setloyal -3>><<if $bladeromanceflag > 0>><<set $bladeromanceflag -= 1>><</if>><</link>></li> </ul>

Blade frowns, and Trouble, having heard you, turns his head to stare; Riel does, too. "What, you mean like an instinct?" the sniper asks incredulously. You shake your head. "No, I mean like a <i>literal voice.</i>" Blade's frown deepens even further, but before anyone can say anything else, Riel suddenly hushes your group. <<include "thedoor">>

Blade frowns as if he doesn't believe you, but he doesn't press the issue further. <<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 3>> "Tell me if you need me," is all he says. Then he releases your elbow. <br><br> <<include "thedoor">> <<else>> "If you say so," is all he says. Then he releases your elbow. <br><br> <<include "thedoor">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Blade frowns, but drops your elbow as if he'd been burned. <<include "thedoor">>

You've reached Minister Turti Ushala's door. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "thedoor2">><</link>></center>

A stream of nobles and powerful merchants are already filing through the threshold by the time you reach it, their invitations checked by servants who line both sides of the entrance like it's a hero's parade. Riel's nostrils flare in displeasure when he sees them. Clearly he's used to going to parties where the servants recognize him by sight: to be asked to produce a paper invitation is likely offensive to him. And you don't quite know what it means for you, Blade, and Trouble. Still, you hold your tongue as your retinue approaches the servants. One butler with pleasant gray eyes checks Riel's invitation with the lowest bow you've ever seen a man sweep: he trills aloud, "Welcome, Guildmaster Riel Syndran, and guests!" He does not look at you, but his eyes go to Blade's sword buckled at his hip; you shift your own weapon partially out of sight. "I can take that, if you wish…" the butler begins—but then he trails off lamely at Blade's icy stare. "It's fine," Riel says, briskly and with confidence. He sweeps a dark-gloved hand in an elegant gesture, redirecting the man's attention. "They're part of my personal retinue." The butler's eyes shift from him to you. "I do not think Minister Ushala would…" "You think? I <i>know</i> Minister Ushala would appreciate a trusted friend bringing extra guards to his party," Riel retorts then, snapping his fingers for emphasis. The butler blinks, startled. "All of these precious figures gathered in one place: Minister Ushala's staff must be stretched thin. I am to be commended for my thoughtfulness and consideration." The butler flushes, looking very confused. <<nobr>><<if $prihinefavor is true>> "I…" <br><br> "Let them in, Baldor. Don't insult my guests." <br><br> You turn at the sound of that familiar, imperious voice. Prihine is standing there, looking quite resplendent in a maroon dress pinned with pink rosettes. Her chin is tilted high, and she looks you squarely in the eye: already you can tell she's a little older, a little different from the last time you saw her. Her pale, ash-blonde hair is still quite short—only down to her ears, but curled fetchingly—and you wonder what it means that she's growing it back out. <br><br> It's clear she received the message you sent before you left the Merchants Guild, and she's come to receive you personally. <br><br> You feel a flood of… <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '...relief. It\'s good to see a familiar face.' 'prihineservant'>><<set $prihineromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '...affection. For whatever reason, the sight of Prihine brings you comfort.' 'prihineservant'>><<set $prihineromanceflag += 5>><</link>></li> <li><<link '...dread. She\'s going to behave herself tonight, isn\'t she?' 'prihineservant'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '...resentment. You don\'t like the feeling of being at Prihine\'s mercy... again.' 'prihineservant'>><</link>></li> </ul> <</if>> <<if $turtihates is true>> "I… of course, Master Syndran. I… commend you?" <br><br> <<include "noprihine">> <</if>><</nobr>>

The servant bows so deeply his head practically touches the floor. "<i>Never</i>, Lady Prihine," he simpers. "I wouldn't dream of insulting your guests!" She sniffs. "Good." Then she flicks a look at you, looking very holier-than-thou. "Come along, then." You leave the baffled servant behind and follow Prihine into the manse proper, taking in your surroundings for the first time. The party is being held in the mansion's grand ball room, a cavernous space filled with warm light. The walls are lined with slender beechwood panels, richly worked with carvings and motifs, and the ceiling boasts a huge mural painted by one of Haven's most famous artists—depicting a creature with a bull's head and a man's body being slain by a hero languishing in a lake with a naked woman. Tables line the room, filled with canapes and bowls of iced punch, and in the back of the room, a small quartet of players warm up their instruments. There are already dozens of chattering aristocrats crammed into the ballroom, talking animatedly; a cloud of perfume and glittering elegance seems to hang around them like a fog. You follow Prihine past them all, past groups of regal-looking nobles and antsy merchants, to a side room that looks to be a richly-furnished study. Prihine waits until the last person in the room, Trouble, steps in and shuts the heavy double doors behind him. Then she turns, tapping a gloved finger against one of her crossed arms. "So?" she demands, arching a finely-plucked eyebrow. "Along with being incredibly late-notice, your message to me was very cryptic. Are you going to tell me <i>exactly</i> what you're doing at my husband's birthday party?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Nice to see you, too, Prihine."' 'prihineservant2'>><<setcharisma +1>><<set $prihineromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Just... trust me. We have our reasons."' 'prihineservant2'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Uh..."' 'prihineservant2'>><<setcharisma -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"No. It\'s none of your business."' 'prihineservant2'>><<setcompassionate -2>><</link>></li> </ul>

She stamps her little heeled foot: a familiar gesture that tells you a tantrum is dangerously boiling towards your immediate future. "Tell me or I'll scream my head off," Prihine threatens. <i>So much for the grand favor she owes me</i>, you think. But you have been vague with her: you only said in your message that you needed her to repay her debt to you by getting you into this gala without the Minister finding out. It seems natural that Prihine would want to know why. Blade is eyeing Prihine rather hawkishly. "Our business is our own," he informs her in clipped tones. From his dour, mistrustful expression, you can tell he wouldn't find it prudent to be open with Prihine about your mission: he doesn't trust her to keep her mouth shut. Or he thinks she could be in on the whole thing herself. At this, Riel steps forward and murmurs into your ear. "If I may, <<c firstname>>," he says softly. "I think it'd be best to be open with her and gain her cooperation. She'd be of valuable aid to us, and she clearly has no love of her husband. She may even stand to benefit from his downfall." Prihine glares. Somehow her diminutive frame seems towering. "I can't believe you'd have the audacity to whisper about me in my own home," she says quietly, viciously. At least she hasn't started screaming. <<set $prihineknows1 to false>><<set $prihineknows to false>> <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Tell her the truth. You suspect Minister Ushala is behind Black Sun.' 'tellherthetruthyoususpectmasster'>><<set $prihineknows to true>><<set $prihineknows1 to true>><</link>></li> <<if $charisma gte 35 or $specialization is "enchanter">><li><<link 'Persuade her to go along with your plan without telling her your reasons.' 'persuadehertogoalongwithyourplan'>><</link>></li><<else>><<disabled 'Persuade her to go along with your plan without telling her your reasons.'>><</if>> </ul>

"Prihine," you say slowly, carefully—like she's a bomb and anything above a whisper may set her off—"your husband… Minister Ushala… we've recently gotten some tips that he's behind the creation of Black Sun." For a moment, there's a long silence; Trouble coughs and scratches his neck, and you study Prihine's face, which has stiffened into blank stone. Then she says, "Black what?" Riel huffs a breath through his nose. "Black Sun," he repeats clearly. "A drug. It's been terrorizing Haven for weeks." Prihine tosses her head. "I've never heard of such a thing." "No wonder, considering you live shut away in your own palace," Trouble mutters to himself. "Probably only leave to go shopping." Prihine fixes him with a snake-like stare. "Come again?" "Uh—nothing." "Black Sun," you reiterate, "is a threat to the city. We've received some information that your husband is somehow involved in it, so we need to look around and see if that's true. Discreetly." Prihine seems to chew on this for a moment. "And if you find anything?" You glance at Blade, whose eyes tighten in suspicion. "We arrest him, I suppose," you state, not sure what answer Prihine wants. Another moment, then her chin sets in resolution; it seems this is something that satisfies her. "Fine, then," Prihine says airily, with another toss of her short hair. "I'll help you. Just don't humiliate me in any way, understand?" You smile at her, almost unable to believe it was that easy to gain her cooperation. The young noblewoman always seems to find ways to surprise you. "Deal." <<include "prihineservant3">>

"Prihine," you say, in your most honeyed tones, "it's nothing that's going to harm you—and in fact, it will probably harm you more to know about it. Would I ever do anything to endanger you?" For the briefest moment, you see doubt flicker over her face. Finally she says reluctantly, resentfully: "No, I suppose not." "Then can you just trust me on this? We need to look around your house and investigate your husband without anyone finding out. Can you help us do that? I promise—it will have nothing to do with you." Her face contorts for the briefest moment. Then she takes on a mulish expression. "But it will hurt my husband?" You read her aura: it seems this is something she wants. "Yes?" Prihine nods in a satisfied way. "Fine. I'll help you do it. Just don't humiliate me in any way, got it?" You smile at her, almost unable to believe it was that easy to gain her cooperation. "Deal." <<include "prihineservant3">>

Prihine folds her arms. "What do you want, then?" <<include "prihineask">>

<ul class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("haveyounoticedoffhusband")>><<ask '"Have you noticed anything off with your husband lately?"' 'haveyounoticedoffhusband'>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("haveyounoticedsuspiciousactivityhome")>><<ask '"Have you noticed suspicious activity around your home?"' 'haveyounoticedsuspiciousactivityhome'>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("howinvolvedareyouinhusbandswork")>><<ask '"How involved are you in your husband\'s work life or business affairs?"' 'howinvolvedareyouinhusbandswork'>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("whysoblaseabouthelping")>><<ask '"Why are you so blasé about helping us arrest your husband?"' 'whysoblaseabouthelping'>><</if>> <<if $prihineknows1 is true>><<if not hasVisited("howdoweknowyourenoteinvolvedinblacksun")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"How do we know you\'re not involved with Black Sun?"</div>' 'howdoweknowyourenoteinvolvedinblacksun'>><<setintelligence -1>><<set $prihineknows1 to false>><</link>><</if>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("howhaveyoubeenprihine")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"How have you been?"</div>' 'howhaveyoubeenprihine'>><<setcompassionate +2>><<set $prihineromanceflag += 1>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link 'You can\'t think of any other questions.' 'prihineintroduce'>><</link>></li> </ul>

She shrugs. "I suppose not. We don't really spend that much time together." "Really?" Prihine looks bored. "Just dinners every few days and galas. But we don't talk." <<include "prihineask">>

"No," Prihine admits. "But it's big, and I don't have time to walk all around. You'd be better off asking the servants." <<include "prihineask">>

"Not at all," Prihine answers idly. "We could be bankrupt, for all I know. He doesn't let me go anywhere near his books, and he doesn't talk to me about things like that." "What do you talk about?" She shrugs. "Mostly gossip about the court, things about the house. Though even that's dried up lately." <<include "prihineask">>

Prihine stares at you like you're stupid. "Because the Autarch will give me all of his money if he's guilty," she says, enunciating it like you're slow. "And a divorce. And if I have money of my own, Daddy can't make me marry anyone else. I'll be free." "You wouldn't feel guilty?" "If <i>he's</i> guilty, why would I feel guilty? He'd deserve to be in jail." She examines her fingernails. "And I deserve to have his things. I married him for that reason, after all. Only this way I don't have to wait for him to die." Riel looks wryly admiring, and Trouble whistles. Well, then. <<include "prihineask">>

Prihine looks very unimpressed by this question. "Why would I have let you in if I was?" she demands. "Honestly, use your head." "Besides, isn't it a little late to be thinking of that?" Blade asks indistinctly. <<include "prihineask">>

Prihine tilts her head like no one's ever asked her that question before. "What do you mean?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Has your husband been treating you well?"' 'hashebeentreatingyouwell'>><<set $prihineromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Have you been fitting in at court?"' 'haveyoubeenfittinginatcourt'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Do you miss your family?"' 'doyoumissyourfamily'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"What do you do during your days here?"' 'whatdoyoudoduringyourdays'>><</link>></li> </ul>

She colors for some reason. "Well enough, I suppose," she mutters after a moment, looking away. "He leaves me alone. We slept in separate beds on the wedding night, because of—you know—" She pales briefly. "…I had nightmares, or I said I was having them. I think he was in shock, too. And we've slept in separate wings since." <<include "prihineask">>

Prihine toys with the silk fan tied around her wrist. "I've made some friends," she says, almost shyly. Then she looks up. "Though I'm not allowed to go much. At least they don't mind that I'm growing my hair back. They say I'm too young for that stupid tradition, anyway." <<include "prihineask">>

She snorts. "You mean the family who didn't bother to see me wed? No, not really." <<include "prihineask">>

She thinks about it. "Whatever I feel like," she says. "Mainly plan parties, order nice clothes… sometimes I read or paint. And I have people come for tea." "People?" She looks briefly hostile. "Friends." "The Minister's friends or your own?" "My own!" Why does she look so annoyed? <<include "prihineask">>

"Fine, then," Prihine announces, smoothing out a wrinkle in her taffeta skirt. "If we're going to <i>investigate</i>, I suppose I should show you around." She glares at each of you in turn. "Follow my lead, do whatever I say, and don't make me look foolish. Understand?" There's a muttered chorus of <i>yes ma'ams</i>, and she flings open the doors to step back into the ballroom. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "prihineintroduce2">><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<if settings.music is true>><<audio "gala" volume 0 loop fadeoverto 10 0.1>><</if>><</nobr>>The glittering party is laid out before you again like something out of a fairytale. Music is playing now, something sweet and fluting, and a warm burbling chatter fills the room. Prihine straightens her back and leads your group straight towards a cluster of people, cutting through the rest of the crowd like a shark through a school of fish. Glancing around, you don't think you spot her husband anywhere, but you're not sure that you would recognize him straight away. You lean close to Prihine and say… <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Where\'s your husband?"' 'wheresyourhusband'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I just wanted to say you look beautiful tonight."' 'ijustwantedtosayyoulookbeautiful'>><<setcharisma +1>><<set $prihineromanceflag += 5>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Thanks for helping us. You\'re being a big help."' 'thanksforhelpingusyourebighelp'>><<setcompassionate +2>><<set $prihineromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Don\'t screw this up for us."' 'dontscrewthisupforus'>><<setcompassionate -2>><</link>></li> </ul>

Prihine looks at you, incredulous. "He hasn't made his entrance yet, of course. It's his birthday: he's got to have a grand arrival, doesn't he?" <<include "prihineintroduce3">>

Prihine looks away from you, but you don't miss the hint of color on her cheeks. "I didn't ask you," she says sharply—but she doesn't meet your eye, and her fists bunch in her skirt. <<include "prihineintroduce3">>

Prihine nods curtly. "I suppose I owe you for saving my life. We can call everything even after this." <<include "prihineintroduce3">>

Prihine's eyes spark. "I should say the same to you," she answers abruptly. At least she doesn't erupt into a fit, the way she used to: it seems she's learned how to channel her feelings in other ways. "It's my home, my life you're disrupting. If you do anything to tarnish it, I'll make you pay." <<include "prihineintroduce3">>

She stops talking as you draw up to the first group she's led you to. Two aristocrats turn to you with interest, one a woman with brown, curly hair, the other a dark-skinned man with amber eyes. They're standing alongside one man in the vestments and robes of an augur—a priest of the One-God. The priest looks up and smiles at all of you, his eyes crinkling kindly. He looks to be in his late forties and has tousled, curly hair; his gaze is bright and alert, despite the creases in his brow and cheeks. He says warmly, "Lady Prihine. What a wonderful gathering you've put together!" "Augur," she replies stiffly. She turns to you. "This is Augur Ryneck, my dear husband's priest, and Lady Amantia, my husband's cousin—and Ambassador Zilka, one of his old school friends. And this is Master Riel Syndran, of the Merchants Guild, and his bodyguards, and…" She glances at you. <<nobr>><<if $disguise is "bodyguard">> "…and yet another bodyguard," you supply swiftly, bowing your head. "<<c falsename>> <<c falsesurname>>, at your service." <<elseif $disguise is "servant">> "…and just another one of his servants," you supply swiftly, bowing your head. "<<c falsename>> <<c falsesurname>>, at your service." <<elseif $disguise is "scholar">> "…and a visiting scholar," you supply swiftly, holding out your hand to shake. "My name is <<c falsename>> <<c falsesurname>>." <<elseif $disguise is "merchant">> "…and a merchant in his guild," you supply swiftly, holding out your hand to shake. "My name is <<c falsename>> <<c falsesurname>>." <</if>><</nobr>> "I'm delighted to make your acquaintance," Augur Ryneck answers. His smile never wavers, so it's hard to tell if he's being sincere. The amber-eyed man, Ambassador Zilka, gives a thin-lipped smile in turn, and his eyes pass over you with chilling assessment. "Likewise," he murmurs: primarily to Riel. The woman, Lady Amantia, seems altogether more lively and cheery than the other two. "What a joy it is to meet new friends!" she cries. Prihine looks at you pointedly. These people clearly all have ties to Turti: getting one of them alone and talking to them would benefit your investigation greatly. The augur is Turti Ushala's personal priest; if Turti has anything to hide, it's possible that he may have confessed his crimes to him. Lady Amantia is his family; she might have insight into his state of mind or affairs of late. And Ambassador Zilka is an old school friend… perhaps he has access to the same connections and methods that Minister Ushala does… Of course, their very disparate social positions mean they may not be willing to interact with anyone they consider lower than them. Who will you address, and who will you leave to the others? <<include "gobackpriest">>

<<set $zilkasus to 0, $metzilka to true>>You approach the ambassador to the Jalis Sultunate, taking in the foreign threads of his clothes; the scent of spices and cloves that seems to hang around him. He turns a disdainful eye toward you. "So," he says in his courtly drawl. "A <<nobr>><<if $disguise is "merchant">> merchant. What do you trade, serah?" <br><br> You think fast. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Silks and cloths."' 'silksandclothszilka'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Weapons and armor."' 'weaponsandarmorzilka'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Livestock and produce."' 'livestockandproducezilka'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Exotic fruits and herbs."' 'exoticfruitsandherbszilka'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Puppies."' 'puppieszilka'>><<set $zilkasus += 1>><<setintelligence -3>><<setreputation -2>><</link>></li> </ul> <<elseif $disguise is "scholar">> scholar. What do you study, serah?" <br><br> You think fast. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Magic. Diminished legends."' 'magicdiminishedlegends'>><<setreputation -2>><<set $zilkasus += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"History and the past."' 'historyandthepast'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Science and the heavens."' 'scienceandtheheavens'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Economics and politics."' 'economicsandpolitics'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Literature and the arts."' 'literatureandthearts'>><</link>></li> </ul> <</if>><</nobr>>

Zilka makes a humming noise. "Do you ever deal with Jalis merchants?" he asks. "It is said our region has the finest silks in all the Continents." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"My caravans never make it that far, alas."' 'mycaravansnevermakeit'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Oh, yes, all the time."' 'ohyesallthetime'>><<if $charisma gte 30 or $cunning gte 30>><<setcharisma +1>><<setcunning +1>><<setreputation +1>><<else>><<set $zilkasus += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> </ul>

Zilka hums, losing interest. "Oh, I see." <<include "zilkaask">>

"Really?" Zilka begins rattling off names of silk merchants he knows from Jalis. <<nobr>><<if $charisma gte 30 or $cunning gte 30>> Thankfully, your quick wits save you, and you are able to smoothly play along well enough to convince him. <<include "zilkaask">> <<else>> You try to fumble along, but it's clear you don't know what you're talking about, and he quickly becomes suspicious. <<include "zilkaask">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Zilka hums, looking disinterested. "Oh, I see." <<include "zilkaask">>

His eyes narrow. "…Puppies?" "Oh, yes, all kinds of puppies. I sell them to noblemen, farmers, all kinds." Is it just you, or is the room suddenly very humid? Are you sweating? Zilka watches you, plainly unconvinced. "How do you transport them?" "Why, just the same as anything else!" He looks totally incredulous. "I…see." <<include "zilkaask">>

Zilka gives no reaction to this scandalous admission. "I see." <<include "zilkaask">>

He nods. "Typical for your kind," he says, in such a light tone that you nearly miss the insult. "Have you looked into the writings of Lampus Seguna?" <ul class="choices"> <<if $intelligence gte 30>><li><<link 'You have, actually.' 'youhaveheeardoflampus'>><<setreputation +1>><<setcharisma +1>><<setintelligence +2>><</link>></li><<else>><<disabled 'You have, actually.'>><</if>> <li><<link 'Bluff. "Of course."' 'bluffofcourse'>><<if ($charisma gte 30 or $intelligence gte 30) and $cunning gte 30>><<setcharisma +1>><<setintelligence +1>><<setcunning +1>><<else>><<setreputation -3>><<set $zilkasus += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Haven\'t heard of him, no."' 'haventheardoflampus'>><<set $zilkasus += 1>><<setreputation -3>><</link>></li> </ul>

You wax on about Seguna's essays and counter-arguments against them until Zilka sighs politely, signaling that he's ready to move on with the conversation. <<include "zilkaask">>

<<nobr>><<if ($charisma gte 30 or $intelligence gte 30) and $cunning gte 35>> You guess wildly, making bland but intelligent-sounding statements about Seguna's essays, which you've never actually read. Zilka tolerates this for a while before sighing politely, signaling that he's ready to move on to some other topic. <<include "zilkaask">> <<else>> You bluff wildly, but you can tell your lame ramblings fail to impress Zilka, whose eyes narrow in suspicion. "I see," he says drolly. <<include "zilkaask">> <</if>><</nobr>>

He frowns. "Really? I'd thought Seguna's essays were rather basic knowledge for someone in your field. Ah, well." However, he looks suspicious of you. <<include "zilkaask">>

Zilka nods. "I'm partial to star-gazing myself," he says. "I have an observatory back home: the night sky in Jalis is marvelous. Tell me, what do you think of the movement of Pale Fortuna?" <ul class="choices"> <<if $charisma gte 20 or $cunning gte 20>><li><<link 'Bluff. "I think it portends good crops this year."' 'ithinkitportentsgoodcropsthisyear'>><<setcharisma +1>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li><<else>><<disabled '"I think it portends good crops this year."'>><</if>> <<if $intelligence gte 30>><li><<link 'Pale Fortuna is the name for a white star that appears near the Polar Candle on some nights. "I think it\'s a very unusual occurrence."' 'thefairladyisthenamewhitestar'>><<setintelligence +2>><<setcharisma +1>><<setreputation +2>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link 'Change the subject. "Tell me, where did you get that marvelous coat?"' 'changethesubjectwheredidyouget'>><<if $charisma lt 35>><<set $zilkasus += 1>><<setcharisma -1>><<else>><<setcharisma +1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I think it\'s... um... bad?"' 'ithinkfairladymovemenisbad'>><<set $zilkasus += 1>><<setintelligence -2>><<setcharisma -2>><</link>></li> </ul>

Zilka frowns thoughtfully. "Is that so? I'd heard it was a portent of cataclysmic change." However, you're smooth enough to convince him that change could mean good crops, and soon enough you're engaged in animated talk about the subject. <<include "zilkaask">>

Zilka nods. "I'm told by some experts that it's an omen of momentous things occurring: apparently every year that it has moved in such a way, a cataclysmic change has occurred. I wonder what that will be?" You talk for a while about astronomy before moving on to another subject. <<include "zilkaask">>

<<nobr>><<if $charisma gte 35>> It's an abrupt change in subject, to be sure, but you are smooth and charming enough that Zilka doesn't really notice it. Soon you are engaged in animated talk about clothes, and he seems to forget all about asking you about science. <<include "zilkaask">> <<else>> Zilka frowns, clearly thrown off by your abrupt change in subject. "My tailor," he says flatly, looking suspicious of you. <<include "zilkaask">> <</if>><</nobr>>

His eyes narrow. "I see," Zilka says, clearly suspicious of you. <<include "zilkaask">>

Zilka shifts. "Is that so?" he asks idly. "Tell me, what do you think of that Mage who calls himself king—Kaza Akshin?" <ul class="choices"> <<if $intelligence gte 30 or $newspaper gte 1>><li><<link 'You\'ve heard this name before: he\'s the Lightning-Cutter, the foreign king of the southern isle Elinden.' 'youveheardthisnamelightningcutter'>><<set $reputation +2>><<setcharisma +1>><<setintelligence +2>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link 'Guess. "The only true monarch is the Autarch."' 'guesstheonlytruemonarchistheautarch'>><<if $charisma lt 35 and $cunning lt 35>><<set $zilkasus += 1>><<else>><<setcharisma +1>><<setcunning +1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'ve never heard of him."' 'iveneverheardofkingkaza'>><<setcunning -3>><<setintelligence -1>><<set $zilkasus += 1>><</link>></li> </ul>

"I think it must have been very easy for him to ascend to his throne," you say, guessing at what Zilka would approve of. "Given how the entire country of Elinden is nothing but a lawless land of brigands and Diminished barbarians. He's not so much a king as he is a warlord: a coraller of savages." Zilka smirks. "Well said." <<include "zilkaask">>

<<nobr>><<if $charisma gte 35 or $cunning gte 35>> Zilka looks briefly suspicious, but you're smooth enough to soothe any concerns he might have. "Well said," he says eventually. <<include "zilkaask">> <<else>> Zilka's eyes narrow. "What does the Autarch have to do with it? Akshin is in Elinden, not the Continent." <br><br> Uh-oh. You fumble for an explanation; it's enough to move on to a new topic, but Zilka looks suspicious of you. <<include "zilkaask">> <</if>><</nobr>>

He narrows his eyes. "Really? I find that hard to believe." <<include "zilkaask">>

<<set $artpiece to "">>Zilka hums. "Oh, yes? What would you consider as your favorite work?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Deflect. "Oh, there are too many to choose from..."' 'bluffohtherearetoomany'>><<if $charisma gte 30>><<setcharisma +1>><<else>><<set $zilkasus += 1>><<setreputation -2>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Bluff by making up something on the spot. "The..."' 'makeupsomethingonthespot'>><<if $charisma gte 35 or $cunning gte 32>><<setreputation +1>><<setcunning +1>><<setcharisma +1>><<else>><<setreputation -2>><<set $zilkasus += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <<if $intelligence gte 35>><li><<link 'Name an actual art piece you like.' 'nameanactualartpiece'>><</link>></li><<else>><<disabled 'Name an actual art piece you like.'>><</if>> </ul>

<<nobr>><<if $charisma gte 30>> Zilka nods. "I suppose I'm the same way. Why favor one when you can favor them all?" <<include "zilkaask">> <<else>> "Mm-hmm," Zilka says—but it's clear he doesn't believe you. <<include "zilkaask">> <</if>><</nobr>>

"My favorite artpiece is the..." <<textbox "$artpiece" "">> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>'>><<if $artpiece is "">><<script>> Dialog.setup("Error"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("blankartpiecetitle").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>><<else>><<goto "fakeartpiecetitle">><</if>><</link>></center>

'The'?! You need to give him an actual title! <center><<button 'Return'>><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>></center>

<<nobr>><<if $charisma gte 35 or $cunning gte 32>> Zilka blinks, convinced by the swiftness of your answer. "<i>The <<c artpiece>></i>? I've never heard of it. I should look it up sometime." <br><br> You make up some details about this fake art piece, engaging in animated discussion about it for a while. <<include "zilkaask">> <<else>> His eyes narrow. "I've never heard of an artwork called <i>The <<c artpiece>></i>." <br><br> "Oh, no?" you say airily. "It's very famous…" <br><br> But it's dismayingly clear he doesn't believe you. <<include "zilkaask">> <</if>><</nobr>>

You give him the name, and Zilka smiles in appreciation. "I enjoy that one, too," he says, and you engage in an animated discussion about the piece for a while before you remember yourself and turn back to the purpose of your conversation. <<include "zilkaask">>

<<set $zilkaushala to false>><<include "zilkaask1">>

Zilka waves an elegant gloved hand. "I am here with my sister and a few cousins," he says. "Though at the moment, I am escaping their dull conversations by having this one." <<include "zilkaask1">>

He grunts into his wine glass. "There are other things I'd rather be doing," he says. "The guest of honor and I are… not on the best of terms." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Why are you at his birthday party, then?"' 'whyareyouathisbirthdayparty'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"What do you mean? Why not?"' 'whatdoyoumeanwhynot'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Oh, I see..."' 'ohiseedotdotdot'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Zilka snorts. "It is a social occasion, like any other," he says. "Even if one does not like the host, one must be seen, acknowledged, by the other greats in attendance, or risk being seen as a social recluse—or worse, an uninvited reject." <<include "zilkaask1">>

But Zilka only shakes his head and says nothing more. <<include "zilkaask1">>

Zilka looks away, clearly growing impatient with this topic. <<include "zilkaask1">>

He scoffs. "It is a tragic joke," he drawls. "There is no real government; no ambassadors to meet with me. Jalis is a lawless wasteland, given over to disparate tribes, nomads, and war-parties and warlords struggling for domination. There are at least five separate people claiming to be the ruler of Jalis, any of whom will be assassinated by rivals any day now. I lounge all day in the sun and bake." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Why were you sent there, then?"' 'whywereyousenttherethen'>><<set $zilkaushala to true>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Is there anything good about it?"' 'isthereanythinggoodaboutit'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"It sounds like your talents are being wasted over there."' 'itsoundslikeyourtalentsarebeingwasted'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

His look turns even more sour. "Turti Ushala," he says tersely. "But since it is his birthday, I shall say nothing more." <<include "zilkaask1">>

Zilka shakes his head. "Everything is expensive," he says, "even water. There is nothing to do but be bored to tears." Then he pauses. "I suppose the men and women are fine enough." <<include "zilkaask1">>

Zilka's look brightens. "Yes," he says decisively. "I have been saying that for years." He gives you a look of approval. "I am glad, at least, that you can see that." <<include "zilkaask1">>

"Thirty-some years," Zilka drawls. Despite what that implies, he doesn't look a day over thirty himself. "We were in school together. We had the same classes, attended the same tutors." He has a look of loathing on his face. "Though I rue the day I ever met him." <<include "zilkaask1">>

<<nobr>><<if $charisma gte 36 and $zilkasus lt 1>> Zilka frowns at your uncouth change in subject. But another part of him seems eager to talk about it. "I am surprised you have not heard," he says in a low voice. "It was the talk of the town for years. Turti Ushala, you see, has slandered me and my family's name. He made… <i>insinuations</i> to the Autarch. Insinuations that my… my blood is not as pure as I might claim." His fist balls suddenly. "If I had known at the time that it was he who did it, I would have dueled him in a heartbeat. Alas, the Autarch sent me away, to Jalis…" His voice drops. "And now that I have returned, I find that he is favored. Protected." A long pause. "My revenge may go un-had." <br><br> "Your revenge?" you ask. <br><br> "I seek to ruin him," Zilka says, rather bluntly. It seems you've gained his trust. Or maybe he's just sick to death of having no one to talk to over in Jalis. <br><br> "How?" you ask. <br><br> He shrugs. "Finding anything I can that might put him in bad light to the Autarch." <br><br> "And have you found anything?" <br><br> "Not as of yet," Zilka says with a frown. "I know that he takes in courtesans, but that is hardly a crime worthy of the Autarch's attention: half of the Sun Court does that, of any gender. Though I have heard…" He trails off, looking at you as if he suddenly remembers who he's talking to. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Yes?"' 'zilkaconfessb'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Anything you say is safe with me."' 'zilkaconfessa'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Don\'t worry, I don\'t know anyone here."' 'zilkaconfessa'>><</link>></li> </ul> <<else>> He gazes at you, his expression flattening with suspicion. "I do not wish to speak of that here," is all he says, his tone perfectly neutral and dead. <br><br> <<include "zilkaask3">> <</if>><</nobr>>

But it seems he's thought better of saying anything, after all. "Listen to me, droning on like this," he demurs softly. "Please, forgive my rude manners." <<include "zilkaask3">>

This seems to satisfy Zilka, for he says: "I have heard rumors—<i>rumors</i>, mind you—that he has been negotiating trade contracts with foreign powers… without the Autarch's consent. Karzai, Luxue… he seeks to export something to them. Why and what, I do not know, but—" <<include "zilkaask3">>

Zilka looks perfectly bored by you. <<include "zilkaask3">>

Before he can say anything more, though, your attention is caught by a sudden swelling in the music. Zilka looks up and sighs before moving away from you. "Our guest of honor is descending for the first dance," he says. "I must away, to make room for happier faces." With that, he slips away, and you're left to be buffeted by the crowd as it shuffles to the side to make way for the festivities. Soon enough, you're just another face in the crowd. <<include "turtiintro">>

You turn to the bubbly lady, Turti's cousin. She looks positively delighted to be talking to you. <<include "amantiachatter">>

"Delightful, darling, just delightful!" the lady cries, clapping her gloved hands together. <<include "amantiachatter">>

"Of course I am, of course!" She beams at you, looking positively manic. <<include "amantiachatter">>

"Oh, how did you know I was from elsewhere?" she asks. "Is it my charming accent? My comely demeanor? I come from Sacor, have you heard of it, darling? Sacor!" "I've heard of it. What brings you here to Haven?" She titters. "I came for my cousin's wedding, and now I've stayed for his birthday party!" <<include "amantiachatter">>

She laughs, the sound similar to the twittering of birds. "Why, all our lives, darling! We're cousins, after all!" <<include "amantiachatter">>

<<set $amantialike to false>>You catch Prihine's eye suddenly; she's busy talking with some other nobles, but she frowns when you look at her with a tinge of desperation. <i>How do I talk to her?</i> you mouth. Prihine rolls her eyes and comes over. "Amantia," she says, as if she were talking to a baby: "<<c falsename>> here is a citizen of Haven. Do you have anything to ask $them while you're visiting our fair city?" Amantia has a big, red-painted smile. "A question?" She hums thoughtfully. "My dear, do you know of any wonderful places for a cultured lady like me to go? Some place I can boast about to all my friends back home?" <ul class="choices"> <<if $tallystime gte 1>><li><<link '"The Autarch\'s menagerie is a fine place to see the natural wonders of the world."' 'theautarchsmenagerienaturalwonders'>><<set $amantialike to true>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $troubletime gt 1>><li><<link '"There\'s a pub in Smoketown called the Burning Crown."' 'theresapubcalledburningcrown'>><<setcunning -1>><<setintelligence -1>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $shopvisit gte 1>><li><<link '"There\'s a funny little shop in Market Quarter run by a clown."' 'theresafunnyshoprunbyaclown'>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $newspaper gte 1>><li><<link '"There\'s a new tea shop in Market Quarter that specializes in afternoon tea. The newspaper said it was very refined."' 'theresanewteashopinmarketquarterthtspecializes'>><<set $amantialike to true>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link '"Have you visited Merchants Guild? It\'s on very pretty grounds."' 'haveyouvisitedmerchantsguild'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"What about the university?"' 'whatabouttheuniversity'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'ve got nothing."' 'ivegotnothingamantia'>><<setcharisma -3>><<setcunning -3>><<setintelligence -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Her eyes light up as Prihine walks away. "Is that so?" she cries. "Oh, I must go at once! That sounds utterly, ravishingly delightful!" You've never seen anyone so excited about going to a zoo before. <<include "amantiasuccess">>

Her smile never leaves her face, though the prospect of going to a working-class pub clearly doesn't appeal to her. "Oh, is that so?" Amantia says politely, watching Prihine walk away. "How interesting." <<include "amantiafail">>

Her smile never leaves her face as Prihine walks away. "Is that so?" Amantia says politely. "How interesting." <<include "amantiafail">>

Her eyes light up as Prihine walks away. "Is that so?" she cries. "Oh, I must go at once! That sounds utterly, ravishingly delightful!" You've never seen anyone so excited about afternoon tea before. <<include "amantiasuccess">>

Amantia laughs a little as Prihine walks away. "Oh, that place is so learned. It is of no interest to me, my dear." <<include "amantiafail">>

Prihine shoots you an incredulous look before walking away. The smile never leaves Amantia's face. "That's all right, my dear." <<include "amantiafail">>

The conversation dies off into awkward fumbling until you hear the sound of musical fanfare. Amantia claps her hands and cries, "Oh! The first dance is beginning!" before she is whisked away into the arms of some other noble. You're left to be buffeted by the crowd as it shuffles to the side to make way for the festivities. Soon enough, you're just another face in the crowd. <<include "turtiintro">>

"Maybe you can go with your cousin Turti?" you suggest. Immediately, Amantia's face falls, and she looks a little nervous. "Oh," she says, her eyes trailing away, "I don't think I shall impose. He is very busy lately…" "Busy doing what?" you press. Amantia looks around, then lowers her voice conspiratorially. "He's been acting strange," she whispers. "Not like himself. At first I thought he was suffering from passion's pangs"—this is courtly slang for when someone's spouse won't sleep with them—"but I no longer think so. I brought him some treats once, to cheer him up, but when I was outside of his office, I heard him talking to someone. Someone with a deep, strange voice. I waited outside the door, but when he stopped and I opened it, <i>no one was there</i>." She looks at you, as if to see if her horror story has spooked you. "Isn't that odd? He must have been talking to himself with a different voice, but he doesn't seem… well. Well, you'll see him." Before you can ask her any more, a strong musical fanfare catches your attention. Amantia giggles suddenly and squeals, "Oh! The first dance is beginning!" before she is whisked away into the arms of some other noble. You're left to be buffeted by the crowd as it shuffles to the side to make way for the festivities. Soon enough, you're just another face in the crowd. <<include "turtiintro">>

<<set $priestsus to false>>You turn to the priest as Prihine and the others artfully distract the other two with conversation. He smiles at you in that crinkle-eyed way. "Tell me, <<c falsename>>—are you a God-loving $woman?" he asks you. <ul class="choices"> <<if $belief is "one-god">><li><<link '"I am. I visit the Church as often as I can."' 'iamivisitthechurch'>><<setreputation +2>><<setfaith +10>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $belief is "one-god">><li><<link '"I love the One-God, but I don\'t pray as much as I should."' 'ilovegodbutidontprayasmuchasishould'>><<setfaith +3>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $belief is "oldfaith">><li><<link '"I am... if you\'re talking about the old gods."' 'iamifyouretakingabouttheoldgods'>><<setfaith +3>><<setcourage +3>><<setreputation -3>><<setcunning -3>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $cunning gte 25>><li><<link '<b>[LIE]</b> "Of course I am. I love the One-God more than anyone."' 'ofcourseilovegodmore'>><<setcharisma +1>><<setcunning +1>><<setreputation +3>><</link>></li><<else>><<disabled '<b>[LIE]</b> Of course I am. I love the One-God more than anyone."'>><</if>> <li><<link '"No, not really."' 'nonotreallygod'>><<setreputation -1>><<setfaith -15>><</link>></li> <<fake_choice '"I don\'t know. I haven\'t really thought about it."' "nonotreallygod">> <li><<link '"I don\'t believe in your god or any other."' 'idontbelieveingod'>><<setreputation -5>><<setfaith -20>><<setcompassionate -1>><<setcourage +1>><<setcharisma -1>><<setcunning -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

The augur smiles, looking pleased. "I thought I sensed the goodness in your heart. My own rejoices to be in the presence of another child of heaven." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Even if I am Diminished?"' 'evenifiamdiminished'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Likewise: I\'ve always found the aura of augurs to be comforting."' 'likewiseialwaysfoundtheaura'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Augur Ryneck tilts his head. "Why would that matter?" he asks gently. "You should know: the One-God loves Xis children equally and fairly. Race doesn't matter to one such as Xer." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"That\'s not what the Autarch says."' 'thatsnotwhattheautarchsays'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Of course. You\'re right."' 'ofcourseyourerightryneck'>><</link>></li> </ul>

"She says the One-God chose pure-blooded Norms to be the One-God's leaders on earth," you point out. "And sometimes she even goes so far as to say that the One-God champions the Norm race as Xis golden children, over all others." The augur merely shakes his head. "There are splintered messages, but only one truth: the One-God's unabiding and unconditional love. All else is… debate amongst mortals. Political leanings. Historical warpings." He looks briefly saddened. "I try to tell Turti the same all the time." <<include "priestcont">>

He beams. "I'm glad you know this. I try to remind Turti of it all the time." <<include "priestcont">>

He beams. "Turti always says that, too." <<include "priestcont">>

The augur nods; he looks unmoved, as if he hears this response all the time. "Love is all that matters, child," he tells you. "Prayer, worship, even the Church—they are all only different ways of expressing that love. Everyone has their own." He sighs. "I try to remind Turti of that all the time." <<include "priestcont">>

The augur's eyes widen. "You're a pagan?" he asks, in soft tones, so no one else can hear. "I… see." He shifts, looking uncomfortable, before he says, "…I suppose it is better than having no love in your heart at all. I try to remind Turti of that all the time, when he lambasts the ways of the Old Faith." <<include "priestcont">>

The augur smiles, looking pleased. "I thought I sensed the goodness in your heart. My own rejoices to be in the presence of another child of heaven." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Even if I am Diminished?"' 'evenifiamdiminished'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Likewise: I always found the aura of augurs to be comforting."' 'likewiseialwaysfoundtheaura'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

The priest nods, looking unmoved; it seems he hears this response a lot. "That is a shame. Even believing in the wrong god is better than not loving God at all. I try to remind Turti of that fact all the time, when he lambasts the ways of the Old Faith." <<include "priestcont">>

The priest blinks, looking taken aback by your scandalous response. "Who, then, do you believe put the sun in the sky?" he asks. He doesn't seem angry, more clinically interested. "Who do you think placed the Autarch on the throne of Heaven?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Forces I may not know the name of... but I know it wasn\'t the One-God."' 'forcesimaynotknowthenameof'>><<setfaith -3>><</link>></li> <<if $intelligence gte 30>><li><<link '"The sun is a giant ball of flaming gas that existed well before the earth did. And the Autarch\'s ancestors placed themselves on the throne in a military coup."' 'thesunisagiantballofflaminggasthatexistedwellbefore'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link '"I don\'t claim to know the answers. I just don\'t believe there\'s some benevolent being hanging around in the sky."' 'idontclaimtoknowtheanswersijustdontbelieve'>><<setfaith -5>><</link>></li> </ul>

He tilts his head. "How do you know these <i>forces you don't know</i> are not the One-God?" You shrug. "I just… know." The priest purses his lips. "Hmm. You would do well not to mention these opinions to our kind host Turti. He positively despises what he calls 'Diminished pagans.'" <<include "priestcont">>

The priest laughs lightly. "You have all the answers," he says, unperturbed by your response. "In a way, you're just like Turti. He, too, treasures his intelligence above all." <<include "priestcont">>

The augur nods, as if this is a response he hears a lot. "I'm sure there are other things you believe in," he says gently. "Things the One-God manifests in that you don't yet recognize. A child's laugh. The smell of grass. A lover's look." You shake your head, and he sighs. "Well, you would do well not to mention your opinions to Turti. He is seriously devout, and he advocates for the persecution of what he calls 'Diminished pagans.'" <<include "priestcont">>

The augur folds his hands into his voluminous sleeves, pondering it. "About twenty years, I should say," he muses. "Since shortly before he took his position as Minister of Trade." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"That\'s a long time of service."' 'thatsalongtimeofservice'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Why did the Autarch choose him for the position?"' 'whydidtheautarchchoosehim'>><</link>></li> </ul>

"Yes," Augur Ryneck agrees serenely. "It is." <<include "priestcont">>

Augur Ryneck smiles a little. "Such an honest question! You are a precious rarity, child." He thinks on it a moment. "It is an old and well-known story among the court. Turti was once a young treasurer of middling birth. He worked for the previous Minister of Trade as one of his aides. One day he noticed that the previous Minister had been miscalculating records being given to the Autarch's offices: whether this was incompetence or an attempt to siphon off gold, I do not know. Turti, fearing blame should the error be discovered, reported it to the Autarch himself before the Autarch's spies could. His predecessor was executed for it, and Turti was rewarded for his loyalty by being given the position instead." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"That... seems to be a poor way to choose very powerful politicians."' 'thatseemstobeapoorwaytochooseverypowerful'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Do you think Turti sabotaged his predecessor himself?"' 'doyouthinkturtisabotaged'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

The augur laughs lightly. "The Autarch channels the will of the One-God," he says. You can't tell if that's his way of agreeing with you or not. <<include "priestcont">>

The augur smiles. "Speaking truthfully: no, I do not believe so. Turti was always a mild-mannered man with little ambition: I would have thought him too afraid to attempt a thing, not with such risks at hand. At least back then, when he was young. But now…" He trails off, rather meaningfully. <<include "priestcont">>

The augur strokes his chin. "He used to come to my Church in the Market Quarter once a sennight. Lately, however, his work has kept him too busy, and his visits have dropped off. I haven't seen him in four or so moonturns. I was pleasantly surprised to hear I was invited tonight." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"What do you talk about when he does visit?"' 'whatdoyoutalkaboutwhenhedoesvisit'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"His work?"' 'hisworkaugur'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Have you noticed him acting odd lately?"' 'haveyounoticedhimactingoddlately'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Does Prihine come along, too?"' 'doesprihinecomealongtoo'>><</link>></li> </ul>

The augur laughs lightly. "That is between Turti, me, and the One-God," he tells you gently. <<include "priestcont">>

The augur nods. "He has been organizing trade agreements with other nations of late, including Karzai and the wild isles of Elinden. He wishes to encourage increased exports to those powers—though exports of what, I'm not sure." <<include "priestcont">>

"Well, as I said, I haven't seen him recently," the augur says. "But now that you mention it, when I last saw him, he was complaining of frequent stomach upsets, being forced to rest at home more often rather than going out. And he was very ill directly after his wedding. I related that to the stress of the attack, though, and prayed fervently for his recovery." He looks grave. "Had it not been for the grace of the One-God, it would have been I officiating that ceremony, and I who had my head torn off." You suddenly realize, with a sinking feeling of dread, that you never actually saw what happened to Turti during the Endarkened attack on the wedding. Did he run away with everyone else? Was he injured in the assault? "Was he touched by a demon during that disaster?" you wonder aloud. Augur Ryneck looks shocked at the very implication. "Goodness, no," he exclaims. "Everyone knows an Endarkened's touch is corrupting and cursed. He would have come to me to be cleansed, and he did not. He came away from the event miraculously unscathed." Somehow, you're not so sure. <<include "priestcont">>

He shakes his head. "No, I'm told Lady Prihine sees her own augurs." He looks wry. "Though she has failed to provide me with any names that I recognize." <<include "priestcont">>

Before you can say anything else, though, your attention is caught by a sudden swelling in the music. Augur Ryneck smiles and begins to move away. "The guest of honor and host of our evening is making his arrival," he notes. "And the young people will want to dance. Time for me to find a nice corner to occupy." With that, he slips away, and you're left to be buffeted by the crowd as it shuffles to the side to make way for the festivities. Soon enough, you're just another face in the crowd. <<include "turtiintro">>

<<nobr>>/*<<if settings.music is true>><<audio "gala" volume 0 loop fadeoverto 10 0.1>><</if>>*/<</nobr>> There's a grand staircase in the back of the ballroom, one of those enormous red-carpeted affairs that feels like a stereotype, lined with polished gold banisters. Someone is descending it now to the flourish and singing of the valkes and the stringed aplanea in the corner, but the person's figure is too small for you to really make out their features. You assume this is Turti, though, from the cheers and claps of the watching guests: he's dressed in luminous red robes and holding up his arm to wave to the party-goers. His movements seem sluggish, his limbs looking heavy and water-logged—but that could be due to his age. When his foot reaches the last step, many of the guests automatically break into pairs to begin the night's first waltz, as is tradition when kicking off events. You look around. Should you dance, too? <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'I\'ll dance with Blade.' 'illdancewithblade'>><<setreputation +1>><<if $gender is "female">><<set $bladeromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <<if $troublehate is false>><li><<link 'I\'ll dance with Trouble.' 'illdancewithtrouble'>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li><<else>><<disabled 'I\'ll dance with Trouble.'>><</if>> <li><<link 'I\'ll dance with Riel.' 'illdancewithriel'>><<setreputation +3>><<if $gender is "male">><<set $rielromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'I\'ll dance with Prihine.' 'illdancewithprihine'>><<set $prihineromanceflag += 5>><<setreputation +5>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'I won\'t dance at all.' 'danceend'>><<setloyal -5>><<setcharisma -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Blade stiffens in surprise as you turn to him, though his expression barely changes from its usual impassive gaze. "Are… you sure?" he asks carefully. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Don\'t be an idiot and just take my hand."' 'dontbeanidiotandjusttakemyhand'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Are you kidding? I\'ve been dying to dance with you!"' 'areyoukiddingivebeendyingtodance'>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 4 and $gender is "female">><<set $bladeromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Just go along with it. It\'s for the mission."' 'justgoalongwithitforthemission'>><<setloyal +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Do you... not want to dance with me?"' 'doyounotwanttodancewithme'>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 4 and $gender is "female">><<set $bladeromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> </ul>

Blade clears his throat, looking faintly nervous, but his hand when he takes yours is strong and sure. <<include "bladedance">>

Blade looks a little dumbfounded by this statement—and your smile—but his hand when he takes yours is strong and sure. <<include "bladedance">>

"Of course," Blade says awkwardly. His hand, however, feels strong and sure as he guides you into step. <<include "bladedance">>

"No," Blade says quickly—and then he clears his throat as an awkward expression crosses his face. "I… No. That came out wrong." Then he sort of thrusts his hand out at you like it's a weapon and he's trying to stab you. You take his hand, and although he looks faintly nervous, his arm feels strong and sure as he guides you into step. <<include "bladedance">>

Trouble's eyes widen in a panicky way as you turn to him, and a slight ruddy flush starts to creep up his neck. "Oh, no, <<c halfname>>, don't do it," he whispers in a warning tone as you reach for his hand. "I've got lead feet, I don't know how to dance: this is going to be <i>awful.</i>" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Just relax and follow my lead."' 'troubledance'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"It\'s okay, I don\'t know how to dance, either. We can look foolish together."' 'troubledance'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Just shut up and dance with me."' 'troubledance'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Riel raises his eyebrows, as if he was not expecting you to turn to him. <<nobr>><<if $gender is "male">> You think his eyes flicker once to see if anybody is watching the two of you. <</if>><</nobr>> Then he says gravely, inclining his head: "I'm honored." <<include "rieldance">>

Prihine sniffs, as if she always expected you to ask her to dance and is rather miffed that you took so long. She extends her hand out to you haughtily, but you think her face might be slightly pink—then you whirl close together, and you're off. <<include "prihinedance">>

<<set $boys to "">><<if $gender is "male">><<set $boys to "guys">><<elseif $gender is "female">><<set $boys to "girls">><<elseif $gender is "xixian">><<set $boys to "starry-eyed recruits">><</if>>As you dance with Blade, you're surprised to find that he's a fairly-competent dancer: he may not know the exact steps, but he's able to scan the room, gauge other peoples' movements, and mimic them smoothly and without much fanfare. You feel the steady drum of his heart beneath your hand, smell the clean sandalwood scent of him as you whirl and pirouette. Blade seems to be looking everywhere but you as he joins you in a slow but stately waltz. Should you say something to break the silence? <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Compliment his dance skills. You didn\'t know you had it in him.' 'complimenthisdanceskills'>><<setblade +1>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Tease him. "I guess you must be dancing with $boys like me every night, to get this good."' 'teasehimiguessyoumustbedancing'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Talk about the mission. What is he thinking?' 'talkabouthemissionwhatishe'>><<setloyal +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Just ride out the dance in silence. It\'ll all be over soon...' 'bladedanceend'>><<setcharisma -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Blade's lips quirk, just slightly. "Thank you," he says dryly. "Really, it's just a result of training." "The Ket hold ballroom lessons?" He shakes his head. "No, but we're schooled in how to blend in, how to imitate others seamlessly even when we're infiltrating places with complex rituals, protocols…" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"And dancing is one such ritual?"' 'anddancingisonesuchritual'>><</link>></li> <<if $heritage is not "Ket">><li><<link '"<<c god>>, do the Ket sound strange..."' 'goddotheketsoundstrange'>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $heritage is "Ket">><<heritage '"Yes, that\'s the Ket for you..."' 'yesthatstheketforyou'>><</if>> </ul>

"Of course," Blade answers, looking at you finally. "A social ritual, serving no other purpose other than to display one's status, to be seen. It's nothing more than… peacocking." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"You know, what you\'re really referring to is a <i>mating</i> ritual."' 'youknowwhatyourereallyreferringtoismating'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Dancing is fun!"' 'dancingisfunblade'>><<if $gender is "female">><<set $bladeromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I suppose you\'re right..."' 'isupposeyourerightblade'>><</link>></li> </ul>

"Yes," Blade answers slowly, his brow furrowing; he doesn't really seem to understand the implication.<<nobr>><<if $gender is "female" and $bladeromanceflag gte 5>> <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"So… is what we\'re doing…a mating ritual?"' 'sowhatweredoingamatingritual'>><<set $bladeromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You know what? Never mind."' 'youknowwhatnevermindblade'>><</link>></li> </ul> <<else>> <br><br> <<include "bladedanceend">> <</if>><</nobr>>

You feel Blade's shoulder's go positively stiff under your hands, and instead of alert and stoic as he always looks, for one brief moment he looks like all the thoughts have flown out of his head. You hear him take a breath, open his mouth, close it again, then begin to speak: "We're not… peacocks," he begins awkwardly. "No," you agree. "We're not." Blade looks as blank as if someone had suddenly sprung a test question on him—one that he's utterly unprepared for. "We're people," he says, like he's desperately groping for some train of thought. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Take pity on the poor soul. "I\'m just teasing you; I understand what you meant."' 'takepityonthepoorsoulimjustteasing'>><<set $bladeromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Press him further. "Yes, we\'re two good-looking people... who are dancing together..."' 'presshimfurtheryesweretwogood'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Stare at him. "...What are you talking about?"' 'stareathimwhatareyoutalkingabout'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Blade smiles briefly, the expression faintly ironic. "I'm glad, because <i>I</i> find myself unclear as to what I meant." You laugh. "It's kind of funny to see the self-assured Commander looking at such a loss for words." Blade makes a sonorous, unimpressed sound, but his eyes quirk with hidden laughter. "Be careful, or you're going to find yourself demoted." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"You\'re too noble to ever abuse your power like that."' 'youretoonobletoeverabusepower'>><<set $bladeromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You wouldn\'t do it. You need me too much."' 'youwouldntdoityouneedme'>><<set $bladeromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Try it, I dare you."' 'tryitidareyoublade'>><</link>></li> </ul>

"You underestimate me," Blade answers gravely. "I'm actually an underhanded tyrant." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"That\'s a shame. I much prefer the heroes of the story."' 'thatsashameimuchpreferheroesofstory'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I should have known. No one with that kind of fearsome glare could have been a good guy."' 'ishouldhaveknownnoonewithfearsomeglare'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I guess I\'ll have to keep an eye on you, then. Someone has to keep you in check."' 'iguessillhavetobetheonewhokeepsyouincheck'>><<set $bladeromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> </ul>

"I'm sorry to disappoint you," Blade deadpans, but he's smiling, and you spend the rest of the song dancing in contented silence. <<include "bladedanceend">>

Blade laughs quietly, and you spend the rest of the song dancing in contented silence. <<include "bladedanceend">>

Blade looks down at you, lips twitching. "You are very confident." You toss your head in mock-confidence. "You think I can't do it?" He looks at you, and you think there's something like hidden warmth in his gaze—maybe something resembling an affectionate smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. But he only gives an expressive shrug. "By now, I should know better than to bet against you," he says lightly. You spend the rest of the song dancing in contented silence. <<include "bladedanceend">>

Blade looks down at you, lips twitching. "You are very confident." You toss your head in mock-confidence. "Am I wrong?" He looks at you, and you think there's something like hidden warmth in his gaze—maybe something resembling an affectionate smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. "Who knows?" is all he says. You spend the rest of the song dancing in contented silence. <<include "bladedanceend">>

"You're fired," Blade answers calmly. You share a laugh and spend the rest of the song dancing in contented silence. <<include "bladedanceend">>

Blade looks straight ahead, over the top of your head. He looks stiff and formal and very harangued, all of a sudden—and he clams up and doesn't say a word. <<include "bladedanceend">>

Blade looks lost. "I… don't know," he admits. <<include "bladedanceend">>

Blade looks briefly puzzled, but doesn't press you. <<include "bladedanceend">>

Blade's eyes dart towards another laughing couple who spins past you, colliding with another pair and nearly falling over each other. "Yes," he drawls. "Fun." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"You\'re having fun with me, aren\'t you?"' 'yourehavingfunwithmearentyou'>><<setblade +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"All right, it\'s fun for people who don\'t have a stick up their ass."' 'allrightitsfunforpeoplewhodonthavestickass'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Looks like some people are deep in the cups already."' 'lookslikesomepeoplearedeepinthedrinks'>><</link>></li> </ul>

<<nobr>><<if $gender is "female" and $bladeromanceflag gte 5>> Blade's look is uncharacteristically warm as he meets your gaze, and his mouth quirks into something resembling a fond smile. "Yes," is all he admits. Simple, almost reluctant—but it's an admission nonetheless. "I do find myself… at ease with you." He shrugs expressively, your hands on his shoulders shifting with the movement. "It doesn't necessarily feel like work." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Smile sincerely at him. "And I feel the same way."' 'smilesincerelyandifeelthesameway'>><<set $bladeromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Don\'t get all emotional on me, now."' 'dontgetallemotionalonmenow'>><<set $bladeromanceflag -= 3>><<setcompassionate -1>><<setcharisma -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I shall endeavor to come up with more ways to entertain you."' 'ishallendeavortocomeupwithmorewaystoentertain'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> </ul> <<else>> Blade tries to suppress the smile threatening to form at the corner of his mouth and just grunts. <br><br> <<include "bladedanceend">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Blade clears his throat and looks away, seemingly-unsure of what to say—but you spend the rest of the song dancing in contented silence. <<include "bladedanceend">>

Blade's face falls back into its usual stoic expression; it looks as if all emotion retreats to some place deep inside him. He looks away and says nothing more to you for the rest of the song. <<include "bladedanceend">>

Blade laughs quietly; it's more of an amused huff of air than anything. "You don't have to try," he tells you. "One thing I enjoy about you is that you are… entirely you." You fall into contented silence after that, and spend the rest of the song dancing smoothly in step with each other. <<include "bladedanceend">>

Blade's shoulders go sharp with indignation. "You think I have a stick up my ass," he asks—no, accuses—in a supremely-dignified voice. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"No, I <i>know</i> you have a stick up your ass."' 'noiknowyouhaveastickupyourass'>><</link>></li> <<if $courage gte 25>><li><<link '"I don\'t know. You\'d have to pull down your pants for me to see."' 'idontknowyoudhavetopulldownpants'>><<setblade -3>><<setcharisma -1>><<setloyal -1>><<set $bladeromanceflag -= 1>><</link>></li><<else>><<disabled "I don\'t know. You\'d have to pull your pants down for me to see.">><</if>> <li><<link '"Hm? What? I didn\'t say anything..."' 'hmwhatididntsayanything'>><<setblade +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

To your surprise, he sighs. "Others have told me much the same," Blade says, almost to himself. If he were anyone else, it would come off as comically-melancholy. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"It\'s all right. I\'ve heard it doesn\'t have to be a permanent condition."' 'itsallrightnotpermanentcondition'>><</link>></li> <<fake_choice '"Are you really that surprised? You are our boss... and you\'re not exactly known as \'the fun one.\'"' 'itsallrightnotpermanentcondition'>> <<fake_choice '"One time I saw you give two recruits goofing off such a severe look that one of them cried."' 'itsallrightnotpermanentcondition'>> </ul>

Blade just grunts, and neither of you say anything more for the rest of the dance. <<include "bladedanceend">>

Blade's mouth nearly falls open in surprise at that, but he looks away over your shoulder and doesn't say anything more for the rest of the dance. <<include "bladedanceend">>

Blade lets out a half-startled chuckle at that, like he's not used to being surprised into laughter. You dance in contented silence for the rest of the song. <<include "bladedanceend">>

Blade nods. "Good for the mission," is all he notes. You spend the rest of the song dancing in silence. <<include "bladedanceend">>

Silence falls between the two of you after that. <<include "bladedanceend">>

Blade's lips twitch into a faint smile. "I know. But you can't deny it's useful, especially in situations like this." <<include "bladedanceend">>

"I wish I'd learned that sort of thing," you muse. "No one in my village ever gave me that kind of training." Blade shakes his head, dark eyes watching you. "I can imagine how you feel, <<c firstname>>," he says solemnly. "But in my opinion, it's both a blessing and a curse." <<include "bladedanceend">>

Blade shoots you an annoyed look and snorts. "Not at all," he answers in his usual serious way. "In fact, you're the first person I've danced with… ever." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I\'m honored!"' 'imhonoredblade'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You are such a liar."' 'youaresuchaliarblade'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Shouldn\'t we make the occasion more memorable? Want to try to lift me over your head?"' 'shouldntwemaketheoccasionmorememorable'>><<setblade +1>><<if $charisma gte 20 or $compassionate gte 60 and $gender is "female">><<set $bladeromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> </ul>

Blade has a look on his face like he'd be blushing faintly if he were anyone else. He just grunts, and you spend the rest of the song dancing in contented silence, swaying smoothly in step. <<include "bladedanceend">>

Blade's shoulders stiffen with indignation. "I never lie unless I have to," he answers with great dignity. "And I'm not lying now." "How did you go your entire life without ever <i>once</i> dancing with someone?" He looks away, a bit haughtily. "I was busy with other things," he answers with a hint of irony. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Like learning how to kill people?"' 'likelearninghowtokillpeople'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"And there was never anyone you wanted to dance with?"' 'andtherewasneveranyoneyouwantedtodancewith'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Blade nods. "Among other things, yes," he says drolly. "Does that resolve your questions?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I\'m learning that when it comes to you, there are always more questions."' 'imlearningthatwhenitcomestoyou'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Yes... for now."' 'yesfornowblade'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Blade smiles, and you chat a bit more before spending the rest of the song dancing in contented silence. <<include "bladedanceend">>

You chat a bit more before spending the rest of the song dancing in contented silence. <<include "bladedanceend">>

Blade looks at you sharply, then away. "No," he admits. "I never felt the inclination." <<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 6>><br><br> Then he glances back at you, so fast you nearly don't catch it. "…Until now." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "bladedanceend">>

Blade looks at you, aghast. "Please, no," he pleads in a long-suffering way. You laugh, and spend the rest of the song dancing in contented silence. <<include "bladedanceend">>

Blade glances at you, now all business. "I'm hoping we uncover something here tonight," he says, turning his gaze away to scan the chattering partygoers. "If the Autarch catches wind that we infiltrated one of her minister's parties to chase after a drug—with only a tenuous connection to the world of demons—the consequences for the Order might be… significant. A lot is riding on this mission, and I'm hoping someone at this party will crack." <<nobr>><<if $blade gte 40>> Then he looks at you, his eyes dark and keen and perspicacious. "And I'm worried about you. You flinched when we were entering the premises like someone hit you in the head." <br><br> He's talking about that voice you heard earlier, of course. But is it really the right place for you to tell him about it, even if you wanted to? <br><br> Blade catches your expression and makes a gesture as if to withdraw his statement. "Never mind," he says. "Your thoughts are your own, of course." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I want to tell you something, but I\'m afraid it will make me sound crazy..."' 'iwanttotellyousomethingbutafraidcrazy'>><<setblade +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Thank him for respecting your privacy.' 'bladedanceend'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Just nod and look away.' 'bladedanceend'>><</link>></li> </ul> <<else>> <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Don\'t worry. I\'m sure things will work out."' 'dontworrybladeimsurethingswillworkout'>><<setblade +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"We\'ll do our best, as always. Whatever happens, happens."' 'welldoourbestasalwayswhateverhappens'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You\'re right. It is a tricky situation."' 'yourerightitistrickysituation'>><</link>></li> </ul> <</if>><</nobr>>

He looks at you with his patient, solemn eyes. "I know you well enough by now to know that you're perfectly sane," he says. This is as close to an invitation as you'll ever get to opening up more… <<include "bladedanceend">>

Blade smiles briefly. "Your confidence is… admirable," he admits. "I just hope it isn't bravado." <<include "bladedanceend">>

Blade smiles briefly. "You're right," he says. "Though that never stops me from worrying." <<include "bladedanceend">>

Blade nods, looking grave, but he doesn't say anything more. You spend the rest of the song dancing in silence. <<include "bladedanceend">>

Then, all at once, the music is fading to an end,<<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 7 and $gender is "female">> and you and Blade are left standing there with your arms around each other as everyone else breaks apart. You glance around to see the couples dispersing—it's customary to take a break after the first dance—and when you look back, you're surprised to find Blade staring at you, his expression intent but unreadable. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Um... the song is over..."' 'umthesongisover'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Don\'t look away. ' 'dontlookawayfromblade'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Pull away.' 'pullawayfromblade'>><<set $bladeromanceflag -= 5>><</link>></li> </ul> <<else>> and Blade is stepping back from you and looking warily around. "Let's find the others," he says, now all business, and the two of you part along with everyone else. <br><br> <<include "danceend">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 8>> "I know," Blade says quietly, his eyes intense, and his hands stay on your waist—but then he seems to realize what he said and jerks back from you as if touched by fire. Before you can say anything else, he's stepping away from you and no longer meeting your gaze. "Let's find the others," he mutters over his shoulder. <br><br> <<include "danceend">> <<else>> Blade jerks his hands away from you as if he was touched by a live wire. Before you can say anything else, he's stepping away from you and mutters without meeting your gaze: "We should go find the others." <br><br> <<include "danceend">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Blade blinks suddenly, as if breaking out of his own thoughts; his hands drop away from you as if weighed by lead. "Let's find the others," he says, avoiding your gaze—and before you can respond, he's pulling away from you and stepping back. <<include "danceend">>

Blade's hands drop away from you like dead things. "Let's find the others," he says, avoiding your gaze—and before you can respond, he's turned away from you and is walking away. <<include "danceend">>

You guide Trouble out to the dance floor and he puts his arms around you, moving as stiffly as a toy wooden soldier in a box-step a little too slow for this fluting waltz. His gold-ringed blue eyes stare straight ahead, as if he's desperately rehearsing dance steps in his head—or just lamenting his own existence. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Snap your fingers in front of his face. "Just focus on me."' 'snapyourfingersinfrontoffacefocus'>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Distract him with work talk. "So, hear anything interesting?"' 'distracthimwithworktalk'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Fluster him more. "You look so handsome tonight. I heard people were dying to dance with you."' 'flusterhimmoreyoulookhandsome'>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 2>><</link>></li> </ul>

Trouble's gaze snaps you, startled, and uncharacteristically a flush begins to creep up his ruddy skin. "Uh," he mutters. "Sure." He fixes his eyes on your face and—eventually—his shoulders relax under your hands. Ever so slightly. And the stumbling of his feet lessens. <<nobr>><<if $troubleromanceflag gte 6>> <br><br> Every so often you catch him glancing quickly at your face and then away. Your arms have slid down a little, resting on his chest, and his heart thumps hard underneath your hand. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "troubledance2">>

"No," Trouble mutters back at you. The distraction seems to work, because his shoulders immediately relax under your hands and the stumbling of his feet lessens. "A fat duke spent fifteen minutes talking to me about soup. Otherwise, no one seems all that keen on talking to a lowly bodyguard. Also, the food here is forgettable. Wine's watered down." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"You\'re a man of priorities."' 'youreamanofpriorities'>><</link>></li> <<fake_choice '"What\'d he have to say about soup, though?"' 'souptrouble'>> <li><<link '"You know reconnaissance work is part of being a Shepherd, right?"' 'youknowreconnaissance'>><</link>></li> </ul>

The sniper screws his face up at you. "I dunno—that it's the marker of a good party, or something? Hael if I know: I was so bored I was almost crying into my cup." <<include "troubledance2">>

He nods seriously. "You're damn right." <<include "troubledance2">>

"It can't all be shootouts and dogfights," you tell him. Trouble looks indignant. "Who's the Vice-Commander here, eh?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Not for long. I\'m coming for your position."' 'notforlongimcoming'>><<setloyal -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link "Says the man who can <i>barely</i> dance." "troubleweakspot">><<settrouble +1>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Sorry, I spoke out of turn."' 'sorryispokeoutofturn'>><<setloyal +1>><<setcourage -1>><<settrouble -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

"Oi!" He pinches your side lightly, making you laugh. "I'll have you hung up by your shoestrings for insubordination, recruit." <<include "troubledance2">>

Trouble snorts. "We'll see, recruit. Beat me in a drinking match and then we'll talk." <<include "troubledance2">>

He snorts. "I'm just kidding, <<c firstname>>. Besides, I know you're right." He looks sullen. "I just know I don't fit in with… this crowd. Never have, never will." <<include "troubledance2">>

Trouble's face colors, and he swallows thickly and looks away. Incredibly, his dancing gets even worse, and you try not to wince as he treads on your foot. "Thanks," the gunslinger mutters. "That's a bald-faced lie, though." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"It\'s not. I heard several young ladies and one prince over there asking who that strapping blond bodyguard was."' 'itsnotiheardladiesoneprince'>><<settrouble +1>><</link>></li> <<fake_choice '"Why are you so quick to think that? You do realize you\'re objectively attractive, right?"' 'troubleisattractive'>> <li><<link '"You caught me. Did it make you feel better?"' 'youcaughtmediditmakeyoufeelbetter'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Trouble snorts. "All right, that's enough of that," he mutters. "I appreciate the thought, <<c firstname>>, but you don't have to ham me up just because I'm your commanding officer." <<include "troubledance2">>

"Tell them I'll be over at the buffet, plowing through those delicate little appetizers," Trouble answers flippantly, grinning at you. "That's all I'm here for." <<nobr>><<if $troubleromanceflag gte 4>><br><br> "Come on," you tease. "Look around—these are the most attractive and wealthiest people in Haven! There isn't anyone here you'd want to dance with?" <br><br> <<if $troubleromanceflag gte 7>> Trouble's eyes flick up to your face, and then away. He clears his throat, but whatever he's thinking, he doesn't seem inclined to say. <<elseif $troubleromanceflag lt 7>> "I'm already dancing with $them," Trouble quips with an easy grin. His hands on your body are relaxed and familiar. <</if>><</if>><</nobr>> <<include "troubledance2">>

He looks at you for a moment, then colors further. "N-no," he manages finally, looking away. "Er… yes. I don't know." <<include "troubledance2">>

Then he sighs. "I just… I don't like any of this. All of this glitz and glam. All for some old guy's birthday? Look at that fountain. It's pouring <i>chocolate.</i>" He jerks his head towards the feature in question. "You know how many people the money it took to make that would feed? I saw some kid in Ashtown footsore because he couldn't afford to buy shoes. Meanwhile, they're picking at all this and then they'll throw it away. It's… pretty sickening, to be honest. Hard to enjoy myself when I'm thinking about stuff like that." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I agree. Something needs to change about all of this."' 'iagreesomethingneedstochangeabout'>><<settrouble +1>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"This is <i>such</i> a romantic topic of conversation..."' 'thisissucharomantictopicofconversation'>><<settrouble -2>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Can\'t you just... not think about it?"' 'cantyoujustnotthinkaboutit'>><<settrouble -1>><<set $troubleharden -= 1>><</link>></li> </ul>

He smiles at you briefly, though his gaze is thoughtful. "Yeah. Wonder who's going to change it, though? The people in power are the ones who'll benefit, so they won't do anything." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Maybe you can."' 'maybeyouwilltrouble'>><<set $troubleharden += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Maybe I can."' 'maybeiwilltrouble'>><<setcourage +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Maybe Blade can?"' 'maybebladewilltrouble'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Maybe... both of us can."' 'maybebothofuswilltrouble'>><<if $troubleromanceflag gte 5>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'m not sure..."' 'imnotsuretrouble'>><</link>></li> </ul>

He smiles ironically. "Yeah, right." You tilt your head. "Why not?" "Well, because—" He nods down at his scuffed shoes. "I'm <i>me</i>. They're not going to listen to the likes of me." You shrug. "Maybe not now, not yet. But maybe someday." "Huh," Trouble says. Now he looks a bit thoughtful. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I believe in you."' 'ibelieveinyoutrouble'>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Be the change you want to see... or something like that."' 'bethechangetrouble'>><<set $troubleharden += 1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Trouble looks at you, his gaze blue and piercing, and then a smile begins to spread across his face, like a dawning sun. It's warm, and true, and sweet. "Thanks, <<c halfname>>," he says quietly, in familiar, conspiratorial tones. "I feel the same about you." <<include "troubledance3">>

He laughs. "You read that in a book, or something?" You smile. "I must have." <<include "troubledance3">>

Trouble smiles at you encouragingly. "Yeah, you!" he says with genuine warmth. "I can see it. And I'll be there to cheer you on." <<include "troubledance3">>

"Maybe," Trouble say, looking a bit mystified. <<include "troubledance3">>

Trouble tilts his head. "You think so?" You nod. "I can feel it." Suddenly he grins at you, fierce and lion-like. "I do, too." <<include "troubledance3">>

"Hm," Trouble says, looking a bit mystified. <<include "troubledance3">>

He blinks at you. "Eh?" You nod around at the glamorous surroundings, the amorous couples flirting and twirling together. "Read the room, Trouble. No one else is talking about the economic state of things…" His expression clouds over with confusion. "I'm… sorry?" he offers, nonplussed. <<include "troubledance3">>

"Try and enjoy yourself," you tell him. "There's no use in worrying about it. You're not going to do anything about it." Trouble's mouth twist. "I'll try," he mumbles, though his expression looks a bit rebellious as he says it. <<include "troubledance3">>

Then he trips again and curses. "God<i>damn</i> this bloody floor!" Then he throws you an abashed look. "Sorry, <<c halfname>>." He lapses into such concentrated silence trying to be a good dance partner that you don't speak again for the rest of the short song. <<include "danceend">>

When he steps with you out onto the dance floor, Riel is stiff and crisp and as perfect and synchronized in motion as he is in everything else. Although you cannot imagine him practicing dance steps in his sumptuous office, he knows every move and latest technique as impeccably as if he were a dance instructor himself. He leads you in an elegant minuet, arching your hands and moving in graceful figure-eights, only your hands touching. His are gloved elegantly for the occasion. His eyes stay calmly on your face, but you get the impression his attention is also roaming everywhere—keeping a subtle eye on the surrounding couples, assessing and gauging and calculating and evaluating. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Do you dance often? You\'re excellent at it."' 'doyoudanceoftenriel'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I didn\'t think you\'d be the type to ignore his dance partner."' 'ignorerieldancepartner'>><<setriel -3>><<setcourage +1>><<setcharisma -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Spot anything interesting?"' 'spotanythinginterestingriel'>><<setriel +1>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Riel's expression doesn't change except for a slight arching of his brow. The gaze he assesses you with is cool and sarcastic. "I wasn't aware that we were here for the usual social niceties," he murmurs. "Forgive my inattentiveness. I was rather more focused on the mission that brought us here tonight, but I'll endeavor to flatter you with my attention while I'm at it." <<include "rieldance2">>

"Yes and no," Riel answers coolly. "Yes—it is a regrettably-necessary social custom one must partake in if one wishes to do business with the powerful and the elite. Would I whole-heartedly do away with it if I could? Also yes." His ice-blue eyes take in your face. "Do I often dance with someone I respect? No." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"...Is that a compliment?"' 'isthatacomplimentriel'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"...Is that an insult?"' 'isthataninsultriel'>><<setcharisma -1>><<setintelligence -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'m honored by your regard."' 'imhonoredbyyourregard'>><<if $gender is "male">><<set $rielromanceflag += 1>><</if>><<setriel +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Riel inclines his head. "Of course," he answers. "I respect you. You've chosen to help the guild, against all odds, despite this runaround that thief Trinaeste and I have put you through. You've given me no reason not to respect you." <<include "rieldance2">>

Riel shakes his head. "On the contrary," he answers. "I respect you. You've chosen to help the guild, against all odds, despite this runaround that thief Trinaeste and I have put you through. You've given me no reason not to respect you." His voice stays as light and unreadable as ever as he says this. <<include "rieldance2">>

Riel's lips twitch. "You have earned it," he replies simply, inclining his head. <<include "rieldance2">>

He shakes his head. "Not so far," he answers, his lips barely moving as he murmurs to you—though his expression is fixed in a pleasant, friendly expression, as if you're making simple small-talk. "There are too many potential leads, too much noise to sort through: it will take some time to ferret any useful information out of anyone. Generally I wait until they've all had a few drinks." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"We may not have that time."' 'wemaynothavethattimeriel'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Do you drink?"' 'doyoudrinkriel'>><</link>></li> </ul>

He nods. "I agree, and I'm working on a plan to resolve that," he tells you. <<include "rieldance2">>

Riel shakes his head. "Rarely," he answers. "I might have a glass of wine with dinner now and then for the taste of it, but never in a social setting where I am surrounded by potential rivals or even adversaries. Alcohol clouds the mind and upsets the constitution. Thus I do not indulge in it unless I'm by myself, and even then I rarely see the benefit of it when weighed against the downsides." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Not everything needs to be so rational, you know. You can do things purely for the pleasure of it."' 'noteverythingneedstobesorationalriel'>><<setriel +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"That seems wise. I also don\'t drink alcohol, so we\'re alike in that sense."' 'iagreeidontdrinkalcohol'>><<setriel +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Isn\'t it exhausting, being so guarded?"' 'guardedrielriel'>><<setcunning -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You\'re lucky you get to make that choice. I don\'t get to choose at all."' 'youreluckyyougettomakethatchoiceriel'>><<setcharisma -1>><<setriel -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

"To be sure. But I'm not sure I have a choice in the matter." <<include "rieldance2">>

Riel's lips twitch, and he arches a brow. "Oh? Such as?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Eating delicious foods?"' 'deliciousfoodsriel'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Watching birds in the sky?"' 'birdsinskyriel'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Reading a piece of fiction?"' 'readingfictionriel'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Sex?"' 'sexriel'>><<setriel -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

"Even if foods are proven to be unhealthy for you, such as fatty foods, people still enjoy eating them," you note. "Ah," Riel says, his eyes alighting with challenge. "But one could argue that the emotional happiness that comes from enjoying good food has benefits that counteract the detriments of the fat. But I do not feel those same positive effects when imbibing, typically, so I simply don't do it." <<include "rieldance2">>

"It doesn't accomplish anything, but people still do it," you point out. "Ah," Riel says, his eyes alighting with challenge. "But one could argue that resting one's mind while watching birds in flight does, ultimately, present health benefits that make the activity worth doing." <<include "rieldance2">>

"People do that purely for the pleasure of it," you point out. "Ah," Riel says, his eyes alighting with challenge. "But one could argue that one is still absorbing knowledge of whatever they're reading—and sharpening their minds, elevating their vocabularies, giving themselves respite or perspective from their real-life situations... Even if it's fiction, it still presents intellectual benefits in stimulating the imagination." <<include "rieldance2">>

"Ah," Riel says, wrinkling his nose. "Yes, that. I won't get into the sordid details, but there are strong arguments that the drive is… social, or biological, and therefore accomplishes things beyond just <i>pleasure</i>." He clears his throat as he says it, averting his gaze as if he passed something unseemly in the street. <<include "rieldance2">>

Riel tilts his head. "And that's beyond the restriction placed on Mages against drinking alcohol?" You nod. "I never had a taste for it, anyway." He looks satisfied. "I had a feeling we would get along." <<include "rieldance2">>

"Ah," Riel says knowingly. "The restriction on Mages against drinking. It is… regrettable, though from what I'm given to understand… necessary?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"It\'s true that our magic can rage out of control when we\'re drunk. But so can regular people\'s tempers... Both cause damage, but only one group is banned from it."' 'itstruemageragecontroldrunk'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Only when we\'re cross-eyed drunk. We should be allowed to drink at least one glass if we want to."' 'onlywhenwerecrosseyeddrunk'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Yes, it\'s necessary. But I still don\'t have to like it."' 'yesitsnecessarybutdonthavetolikeit'>><<setriel +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"It is necessary and it is rightfully a law."' 'itisnecessaryanditshoudlbelaw'>><<setriel +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

"Ah," Riel says. "But Trouble's stray punch wreaks far less damage than a fireball or a bolt of lightning, no?" <<include "rieldance2">>

"It's simpler for the Autarchy to ban it outright rather than try to monitor and enforce that," Riel says sympathetically. "Though in essence I do agree." <<include "rieldance2">>

Riel nods slowly. "I feel much the same way about most things." <<include "rieldance2">>

Riel nods. "That seems a fair and objectively-minded assessment. I admire that." <<include "rieldance2">>

Quite abruptly he changes the subject and says: "I'm curious. How did you learn to dance like this? Do the Shepherds host ballroom lessons?" His tone is light and amused, as his touch: his hands are cool through his thin gloves, slender pianist's fingers only lightly touching the tips of yours. This close, he smells of expensive cologne and pomade, not overpowering but crisp and clean and tea-like. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'You\'re baffled by his statement. You never learned how to dance, and you\'re doing it quite awfully.' 'yourebaffledbyhisstatement'>><</link>></li> <<if $education is "Circle-trained">><li><<link '"We danced at school."' 'wedancedatschool'>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link '"I picked it up here and there on my travels."' 'ipickedituphereandthereontravels'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I spent some time in the employ of a nobleman and learned it in his court."' 'ispentsometimeintheemployofnobleman'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'m just copying everyone right now."' 'imjustcopyingeveryonerightnow'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Is he making fun of you? Riel looks surprised by the implication. "I would never," he says in a dignified way. "In fact, I quite enjoy… your way of dancing. It's interesting." You still can't tell if he's making fun of you. <<include "rieldance3">>

Riel tilts his head. "You attended a university?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"...Something like that." <b>[DEFLECT]</b>' 'somethinglikethatdeflect'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"No, a... you-know-what." <b>[TRUTH]</b>' 'noayouknowwhattruth'>><<setriel +1>><<setcourage +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Riel's blue eyes scan your face, and he seems to instantly detect your lie. Without comment, he turns the conversation to other things. <<include "rieldance3">>

"Ah," Riel says instantly. "I take your meaning. I would love to discuss it further some other time. Somewhere more private." <ul class="choices"> <<if $attractedto is not "women">><li><<link '"I\'d love to speak to you in private." <b>[FLIRT]</b>' 'idlovetospeaktoyouinprivate'>><<set $rielromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link '"Of course."' 'ofcourseinprivateriel'>><<setriel +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"We\'ll see."' 'rieldance3'>><<setriel -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Riel turns his head and coughs politely. "…Yes. Quite. As would I." <<include "rieldance3">>

He smiles at you with genuine warmth, his eyes half-lidded and lazy as a panther's. "Excellent. I look forward to it." <<include "rieldance3">>

Riel nods. "I would love to hear about those sometime. I'm sure you've witnessed all manner of marvels around the Continent." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Have you traveled much?"' 'haveyoutraveledmuchriel'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'d be happy to tell you about them."' 'idbehappytotellyouaboutravels'>><<setriel +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"We\'ll see."' 'rieldance3'>><<setriel -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Riel shrugs lightly. "For business," he says, "which leads me little time to actually take in the sights and enjoy my journeys. In my youth I spent… an extensive time in Leore and its nearby cities, learning my trade. Then I came here for university, and I've been here since." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"What did you study in university?"' 'whatdidyoustudyinuniversity'>><<setriel +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Are you from Leore?"' 'areyoufromleore'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Where does your family reside?"' 'whereisyourfamilyriel'>><</link>></li> </ul>

"Many things," Riel answers, looking pleased to talk about it. "Chief among them were history, economics, and politics. With a few other obscure specialties. I also obtained a law degree. If I could have stayed forever and earned degrees in every subject, I would have." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Not business?"' 'notbusinessriel'>><</link>></li> <<fake_choice '"Why a law degree?"' 'lawdegreeriel'>> <li><<link '"Why couldn\'t you?"' 'whycouldntyouriel'>><<setriel +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Riel smiles thinly. "It was interesting," he says, his voice carefully neutral, "and I also believed that such skills would be useful for my future endeavors, both for my own protection and those of my associates." He doesn't quite wink, but it's much the same feeling. <<include "rieldance3">>

Business, you're given to understand, is different from economics: you're surprised that he didn't study something more directly related to his everyday trade. "Business makes history," Riel answers glibly. "And all business is politics. There are simply some things you can't learn in a classroom, and business is one of them. I needed to be out in the world for that. But the <i>structure</i> that informs it all—the tri-fold tentpole of economics, history, and politics—-seemed so interconnected that I felt wrong studying just one. So I chose them all." <<include "rieldance3">>

Riel smiles. "Academics are interesting people," he says, "but in the realm of inciting real change, their world is slow-moving and often ineffectual. To have any say in how the world is shaped, one needs power—and to have power, one needs coin. I couldn't achieve my goals from within the confines of a university. I needed to be out in the world… accruing power." <<include "rieldance3">>

"A little outside of it," Riel answers breezily, twirling you deftly—but he fails to elaborate on the subject, and you let the matter drop. <<include "rieldance3">>

"I have none," Riel answers steadily. <<nobr>><<if $cunning gte 20>> But you think he's a little too calm for it to be sure, and his expression is careful and guarded. <br><br> Still, you let the subject drop. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "rieldance3">>

He smiles at you with genuine warmth. "Excellent. I look forward to it." <<include "rieldance3">>

"Interesting," Riel says thoughtfully. "And you were a bodyguard for that personage, I take it? Interesting..." He looks suddenly pensive. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I know what you\'re thinking, and I can\'t be <i>your</i> bodyguard."' 'iknowwhatyourthinkingcantbebodyguard'>><<setriel +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You\'ll have to pay me handsomely to get me to leave the Shepherds."' 'youllhavetopaymehandsomely'>><<setriel +1>><<if $gender is "male">><<set $rielromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Do you want me?" <b>[FLIRT]</b>' 'doyouwantmeriel'>><<setriel -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Riel laughs. "I suppose not," he says. "What a shame. But I couldn't pull you away from the Order. Your skills are better put to use there, not hoarded for my sake." He ruminates on it. "Maybe someday." <<include "rieldance3">>

Riel laughs. "A haggler after my own heart," he says approvingly. "No, I couldn't pull you away from the Order. Your skills are better put to use there." He ruminates on it. "Maybe someday." <<include "rieldance3">>

If Riel realizes your innuendo, he gives no sign of it. "I suppose I couldn't pull you away from the Order," he sighs. "Your skills are inarguably better put to use there." <<include "rieldance3">>

Riel looks impressed. "Truly? Then you are a fine imitator. That would be an interesting skill for you to hone." <<include "rieldance3">>

Then, quite suddenly, the song is ending, and you and Riel are breaking apart. He bows to you at the waist, graceful and slim. "Thank you for the dance, <<nobr>><<if $rielromanceflag gte 4>><<c rank>> <<c firstname>>."<<else>><<c rank>> <<c surname>>." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "danceend">>

You guide Prihine out onto the dance floor, and you think you catch several people staring as they watch you dance with the wife of the birthday party's host and star. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Ignore their stares. This dance is between you and Prihine.' 'prihinedance2'>><<set $prihineromanceflag += 1>><<setloyal -2>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Flash them a winning smile.' 'prihinedance2'>><<setcharisma +1>><<setreputation +2>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Send them a rogueish grin and a wink.' 'sendthemarogueishgrinandawink'>><<setcharisma +1>><<setcourage +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Glare at them. They have no right to stare. ' 'glareatthemnorighttostare'>><<setcompassionate -2>><<setcourage +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

A little scandalized ripple moves through the crowd, and Prihine stomps on your foot. "Don't make a scene!" she hisses, two high red spots appearing on her cheeks. <<include "prihinedance2">>

Prihine slaps your shoulder. "Don't glower," she hisses through her teeth. "<i>Dance</i>." <<include "prihinedance2">>

The two of you move through a formal waltz, Prihine's body stiff in your arms, your hands on her waist and hers on your shoulders, resting so lightly that you'd think she wasn't touching you at all. She's pretending not to notice the reaction to you being together, but it's clear she's aware of it… and not so clear what she thinks of it. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Maybe it wasn\'t the best choice, the two of us dancing together."' 'maybeitwasntthebestchoicedancing'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I bet you just love making a scene."' 'ibetyoulovemakingscene'>><</link>></li> <<if $attractedto is not "men">><li><<link '"They\'re staring because of how lovely you look."' 'theyrestaringbecauseofhowlovelyyoulook'>><<set $prihineromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link '"So what is this? Showing off your pet Diminished to the onlookers?"' 'sowhatisthisshowingoffpet'>><<set $prihineromanceflag -= 1>><</link>></li> </ul>

She looks at you sharply. "What do you mean?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I don\'t want your reputation to be affected by this."' 'idontwantyoureputationtobeaffected'>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I don\'t like everyone\'s eyes being on me."' 'idontlikeeveryoneseyesonme'>><<setcourage -1>><<setcharisma -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Won\'t Turti suspect me now?"' 'wontturtisuspectmenow'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

She tosses her head. "You think I give two flying dog shits about what <i>they</i> think?" she asks, shocking you with her language. "They're nothing. Dirt beneath your heels." And you notice she's talking about you, not herself. <<include "prihinedance3">>

"Well, that's just too bad," Prihine answers unsympathetically. "You should have thought of that before you asked me to dance." <<include "prihinedance3">>

She tosses her head. "He's not even watching," she answers. "He's retired to a sitting room to meet with his inner circle by now, anyway." <<include "prihinedance3">>

To your surprise, Prihine smiles at you: it's a rare expression on her, sharp and brittle-looking. "It's all I can do," she answers. "Play the good wife, or make everyone in Haven look at me and know my name. Which do you think I should pick?" <<include "prihinedance3">>

"W-what?" It comes out as a squeak, and immediately Prihine looks both embarrassed and infuriated. "You dare! Don't get cheeky with me!" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I mean it."' 'prihinedance3'>><<setcharisma +1>><<set $prihineromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Sorry, bad joke."' 'sorrybadjoke'>><</link>></li> </ul>

She looks away, trying to hide her hot blush. "I should have you thrown in chains for that," she mutters. <<include "prihinedance3">>

Prihine's eyes bulge in anger. "You asked <i>me</i> to dance!" "Only to see what you would say." She looks away, huffing—and falls into chilly silence after that. <<include "prihinedance3">>

After a few moments of wordless dancing, Prihine says suddenly, abruptly: "Why?" You look at her. "Why what?" She meets your eyes, her grey ones now defiant… but also strangely vulnerable. "Why did you save me that day?" she asks you, her voice softer than you've ever heard. "I… I certainly never gave you any reason to." She looks away, as if ashamed.<<nobr>><<if $cainedead is true>> <br><br> "Why did you save me and not the b—" She stops herself. "Caine?" <</if>><</nobr>> <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I didn\'t think about it. I just did what my instincts told me."' 'prihinedance4'>><<setcourage +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I care about you and I didn\'t want to see you harmed."' 'prihinedance4'>><<set $prihineromanceflag += 2>><<setcompassionate +2>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I could never let an innocent—any innocent—-die in front of me without trying my hardest to save them."' 'prihinedance4'>><<setcompassionate +5>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I thought you deserved a second chance."' 'prihinedance4'>><<setcompassionate +3>><</link>></li> <<if $cainedead is true>><li><<link '"You were powerful and influential, and he was not."' 'youwerepowerfulandinfluentialprihine'>><<setcompassionate -8>><<setcunning +8>><<set $prihineromanceflag to 0>><<setreputation -3>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $cainedead is true>><li><<link '"I didn\'t care about him at all."' 'prihinedance4'>><<setcompassionate -10>><<setcunning +10>><<set $prihineromanceflag -= 5>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link '"To be honest, I... I\'m not sure."' 'prihinedance4'>><</link>></li> </ul>

She turns to stone in your arms. "…What?" she asks quietly. Then, before you can answer, she steps back and sharply slaps you across the face. One or two couples nearby catch the movement and gasp and twitter, but otherwise it seems to go unnoticed by the rest of the party. "That boy loved you," Prihine says, baring her teeth, her eyes sparking. "Even I could see that. And you—you—" The words die on her lips, and she looks at you as if she doesn't recognize you. Prihine turns away from you in disgust, smarting tears in her eyes, and storms away… leaving you standing alone on the dance floor. <<include "danceend">>

She looks away. "…I see," is all Prihine says, quietly. "Well… thank you. Since I never got to tell you in person." All at once, the song is over. She steps away from you and smooths her hands in her skirts. "Let's find the others," Prihine says, and as she walks, her spine turns ramrod-straight beneath the stares of every dancer at the party. By the time you reach her again, she's reverted back to her usual self. <<include "danceend">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "danceend2">><</link>></center>

<<audio ":playing" fadeoverto 20 0>>Afterwards, after the music has faded back to an accompanying tune and the laughing dancers take a break, your little group convenes again by the tables of appetizers to the side of the room. "Did you learn anything?" Prihine demands. "I haven't—but I'm not surprised, I suppose. I wouldn't expect Turti's cousin to know more about him than his own wife." "I haven't made much headway, either," Riel admits. "But I've only spoken to a few people. Given some time, I think I could ferret out who has information." "We may not have that time," Blade comments, looking pensive. "It's not as if all of us will have a good excuse to come back after tonight. We need to act quickly." When you look at him, he frowns. "As for me, I've learned nothing of use." "'I've learned that I can damn near break some toes if I try and dance," Trouble mutters, heading straight for the canapés. "It's so bloody hot in here, I can't <i>think</i>. I need a drink." Prihine's face lights up: suddenly you see the still-youngish girl who planned this party, not the wife conspiring to bring down her husband's political dynasty. "Try the spiced lamb," she advises, pointing at one tray. "And the angel egg, that's my favorite; and there's roast goose in slices. And the asparagus and cream wrapped in pastry. And the stuffed mushrooms!" She presses a chalice of lemon ice into Trouble's hand as he dutifully follows her instructions. "Not bad," the sniper says indistinctly around a mouthful of food—Blade and Riel make twin faces of disgust. Then someone appears at his elbow, startling him and causing him to swallow too quickly. "Prihine," the newcomer simpers. She's another aristocrat, a pretty woman with auburn hair piled onto her head. She seems friendly enough, if in a condescending way. "These black torant mushroom caps are divine! However did you get them so out of season? You must have paid a fortune!" Despite the compliment, Prihine frowns. "Torant mushrooms?" She glances at the platter in question; her eyes widen. "These are supposed to be lillant mushrooms!" You look, as well. <<nobr>><<if $intelligence gte 22>> It's true: torant mushrooms are black truffles, smooth and node-like, and these are what sit on the gold plate, stuffed with minced chicken and tarragon. Prihine must have been expecting the more common brown lillant mushrooms, which are irregular and gilled. <<else>> You can't discern anything unusual about the stuffed mushrooms, little black caps stuffed with minced chicken and tarragon, but Riel leans in close and observes them alertly. "Yes, these are a rare delicacy," he murmurs to you. "Torant mushrooms are black and smooth—lillant mushrooms are much less expensive, and are brown, irregular, and gilled. It's unusual that these would be mixed up somehow… and these do not look exactly like the torant mushrooms I've seen, either. They look… fleshy." <</if>><</nobr>> Prihine looks apoplectic. "I'll be right back," she says through grit teeth. Then, to your surprise, she snags your sleeve and drags you along with her; so you snag Riel's, who snags Trouble's, who snags Blade's. "Where are we going?" you ask as you all form a clumsy link through the crowd of oblivious party-goers. "To the kitchens," Prihine announces. "This is <i>not</i> the food I picked and ordered, and I want to know why." You glance back at the others: Riel looks quietly intrigued, Trouble bored, and Blade unimpressed. "Who else would have the authority to change the menu without your knowing?" you ask her. Prihine doesn't even look at you when she answers. "Who else? My dear, damnable husband, of course." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "danceend3">><</link>></center>

You make your way to Prihine's kitchen, which is certainly a more humble space than the grand ballroom: it's humid and loud, with plain brown walls streaked with soot and grease and servants running to and fro. Still, it's big enough to turn out enough food to feed the entire Shepherds' Order, and more; despite yourself, your stomach unleashes a quiet grumble when you breathe in the smells of fat-glazed roasts and delicate sugared pastries. Prihine clears her throat, and instantly the entire kitchen falls quiet. "Lady Prihine!" The army of scurrying servants and cooks drop everything to turn to her as one: they are either very well-trained or very afraid of her. She jerks her head like a military commander. "Keep working. Lili"—this she directs to a young cook near the ovens, who flinches—"come here." "This is a waste of time," Trouble mutters to Blade from behind you as the cook nervously hurries over, brushing away sweaty strands of mousy brown hair. "We should go off and look around the house while they're all busy." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I agree."' 'iagreeprihine' >><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Wait a moment. I trust Prihine."' 'waitamomentitrustprihine'>><<set $prihineromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Prihine glares at you, but otherwise pretends you hadn't spoken when she turns back to her servant. <<include "danceend4">>

Prihine tsks her tongue, but otherwise doesn't acknowledge your whispering as she turns back to her servant. <<include "danceend4">>

"Would you like to inform me why there are different mushrooms being served than the ones I told you to cook this morning?" she demands of Lili, a dangerous glint in her eye. It's obvious from her tone that the question is purely rhetorical. The young cook blanches until her face is nearly as white as the flour on her smock. "I… I'm sorry, Mistress," she squeaks. "It… it wasn't my choice." "<i>Whose choice was it</i>?" Lili ducks her head. "M-Master's!" Prihine looks outraged. "Did he change anything else on the menu?" The servant ducks her head even lower. "No, Mistress, I swear! That was the only thing!" <<include "shroom">>

Lili's eyes go to you and widen; she's clearly not used to seeing a Diminished person speak about her masters so nonchalantly. "I… it's not my place to guess at my master's reasons," she says finally. Then she bites her lips. "I just do as he says." <<include "shroom">>

"No," the servant squeaks. But her eyes dart around guiltily. <<include "shroom">>

Lili's hands ball in her apron, and she shifts from foot to foot. "I… I don't know," she mutters. <<include "shroomnext">>

<<nobr>><<if $charisma gte 25>> "What <i>do</i> you know, Lili?" you ask her. You keep your voice kind and gentle, but she is clearly being very suspicious. "It's okay to tell us. You won't get into trouble." You look pointedly at Prihine. "Right?" <br><br> Prihine huffs out an agreement. <br><br> Lili fidgets and chews her lip, wringing her fingers again and again. Finally she blurts: "I'm sorry. I knew it was wrong, but I was afraid to disobey him!" <br><br> "You knew what was wrong?" Blade demands sharply. <br><br> Lili buries her face in her hands. "The mushrooms," she moans in a muffled voice. "They're—there's something <i>wrong</i> with them. I think they're like turlins—you know what that is?" <br><br> <<include "turlins">> <<else>> "Tell me what you do know or I'll have you thrown out on the street by midnight," Prihine threatens. "And be quick about it!" <br><br> Poor Lili cowers behind her hands. Finally she blurts: "I'm sorry. I knew it was wrong, but I was afraid to disobey him!" <br><br> "You knew what was wrong?" Blade demands sharply. <br><br> Lili buries her face in her hands. "The mushrooms," she moans in a muffled voice. "They're—there's something <i>wrong</i> with them. I think they're like turlins—you know what that is?" <br><br> <<include "turlins">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $intelligence gte 25 or $heritage is "Elf">> "Turlins," you echo. "Those are Elvish mushrooms. They make you—er—very impressionable, dropping your inhibitions and liberating your sensibilities. In other words, they make you <i>agreeable</i>." <br><br> "What do the Elves use them for?" Trouble asks from behind you. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '...' 'turlinsdotdotdot'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Use your imagination..."' 'useyourimaginationmushrooms'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Sex, mostly."' 'sexmostlyturlins'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I don\'t know, actually..."' 'idontknowactuallyturlins'>><</link>></li> </ul> <<else>> "Turlins are Elvish mushrooms," Riel tells you all. "A mild psychotropic breed that encourages the lowering of inhibitions and the liberating of sensibilities. In some regions, they call it <i>the peacemaker</i>. It creates senses of trust and unity among its consumers." He taps his chin. "But it's illegal in all parts of the Autarchy, and those black mushrooms outside aren't turlins, anyway." <br><br> <<include "lili">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Trouble looks around when no one answers him. "Why did you all stop talking?" <<include "turlins2">>

Trouble looks blank. "So they eat them?" Blade rolls his eyes. "Just ignore him." <<include "turlins2">>

"Oh," Trouble says, a bit faintly. <<include "turlins2">>

Blade rolls his eyes at the both of you. <<include "turlins2">>

"Turlins are also illegal in the Autarchy," Riel notes, turning back to the conversation at hand. "And those black mushrooms outside aren't turlins, anyway." <<include "lili">>

"No," Lili admits, looking miserable. "But they're <i>like</i> them. I saw Old Mandy sneak a cap off a plate and eat one. An hour later she'd fallen into this… trance, and she did what anybody said, even when Gigi told her to lick a boot. We had to send her home." "So they brainwash you?" Blade cuts in. He looks so fearsome and grave in his black cape that the cook cowers back involuntarily, as if her own shadow had addressed her. "They make you obey commands? And Turti made you serve them?" Her eyes are wide and frightened. "Yes," she says. "But I d-didn't want to…" He makes a sharp, abortive gesture. "You're not going to get into trouble. Why did he want you to serve them?" Lili shakes her head. "I don't know, honest." "I would think that would be obvious," Riel responds instead. "He's serving them to an entire party of his closest allies and connections. Clearly he wants to make the lot of them susceptible to doing as he says." Trouble blinks. "But what would that be?" <ul class="choices"> <<if $prihineknows is true>><li><<link '"Something to do with Black Sun?"' 'lili2'>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $prihineknows is false>><li><<link '"Something to do with you-know-what?"' 'lili2'>><</link>></li><</if>> </ul>

"Maybe transporting it abroad," Blade says, his face taut and urgent. "There are ambassadors here. Foreign merchants. <i>He's been drafting up trade agreements for exports</i>…" You all look at each other for a moment. Then you turn to Lili as one and demand, "Where did he get the mushrooms from?" She holds up her hands as if to defend herself from you. "From the cellar," she exclaims. "And he took away our keys—he hasn't let anyone else go down there in weeks!" <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "lili3">><</link>></center>

You all take off running, with Prihine squawking in protest as you drag her by the elbow and Riel quickly falling behind. You quickly reach the side pantry, tucked away in an unused corner of the kitchen, where the flurry of activity fades and all goes strangely quiet. There's a hatch in the floor here, half-hidden behind sacks of potatoes and apples, and just as Riel comes panting up, you kneel and tug at the handle on the hatch. It doesn't budge. "Locked," Blade says. "And hard to break through without falling straight down to the floor below." Prihine flushes incredulously. "Don't break it," she snaps, straightening. "I've got the keys to everything in the house in my room." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Tell her to go fetch the key.' 'tellhertogofetchthekey'>><</link>></li> <<if $magic gte 30>><li><<link 'No need. You can undo the lock with your magic.' 'noneedlockmagic'>><<setmagic +1>><<setastral +1>><</link>></li><<else>><<disabled 'No need. You can undo the lock with your magic.'>><</if>> <<if $lockpick is true and $cunning gte 28>><li><<link 'No need. You can pick the lock.' 'noneedpicklock'>><<setcunning +1>><<setstrength +1>><</link>></li><<else>><<disabled 'No need. You can pick the lock.'>><</if>> <<if ($strength gte 30 and $specialization is "battle") or ($astral gte 30 and $strength gte 30)>><li><<link 'No need. You can punch through the hatch.' 'noneedyoucanpunchhatch'>><<setstrength +3>><<setmagic +3>><<setastral +1>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 1>><<if $gender is "female">><<set $bladeromanceflag += 1>><</if>><<set $prihineromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li><<else>><<disabled 'No need. You can punch through the hatch.'>><</if>> </ul>

Prihine nods, springs to her feet, and hurries off, moving swiftly despite her long skirts. You can't help but feel surprise at her quick obedience to anything you've said. You wait for several tense and silent minutes before she finally returns, breathing a bit quickly and holding up a set of silver keys. Another few moments of testing each one finally has the lock coming undone—and the hatch swings open. A strange, damp smell wafts up from the dark stairwell beneath it. "That does not smell great," Trouble says, staring down into the darkness below. <<include "lili4">>

You lay your hands on the heavy oaken hatch and imagine it swinging open with ease. There's a clicking sound as the locks come undone—and then the hatch does just that. Blade smiles ever-so-faintly at you. "Well done." <<include "lili4">>

You whip out your trusty lockpicking set and get to work: within moments, the locks on the hatch have come undone beneath your hands. Trouble punches your shoulder triumphantly. "Well done, recruit!" Riel is smiling wryly. "We've had another thief in our midst all along," he notes, inclining his head. <<include "lili4">>

You raise your fist, feeling it burn as you concentrate all your magic to your hand, and then summarily shatter the hatch to pieces with a single blow. Trouble and Prihine's jaws drop, Blade's eyes widen slightly, and even Riel looks at you like you're a specimen he'd love to dissect. "Well done," he says briskly. "Though I'm afraid the Shepherds' Order will have to be billed for Lady Prihine's repair costs." <<include "lili4">>

Prihine surges to her feet in the next moment. "Never mind that," she snaps. "We need to see what he's hiding down there!" Before any of you can stop her, she's running down the cellar stairwell, holding up her skirts—and you have no choice but to follow. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "lili5">><</link>></center>

The storeroom seems what you would expect of a high-born family's cellar: aged wooden steps leading downward, the sharp smells of ancient wines and mulled ciders. It is exceptionally dark. But there's also something else, lacing through the cool basement scents: something sickly, like mold. And when you put out a hand to steady yourself against the wall as you make your way down the darkened staircase—<i>where are the lights?</i>—you jerk back. You touched not the smooth, paved surface of brick or stone, but something irregular and bulging and wet. Somewhere in the darkness, there is the sound of enormous breathing. The walls themselves seem to move like lungs. Prihine screams. <ul class="choices"> <<if $magic gte 20>><li><<link 'Light up the darkness with your magic.' 'lightupdarknesswithmagic'>><<setmagic +1>><</link>></li><<else>><<disabled 'Light up the darkness with your magic.'>><</if>> <<if $lantern is true>><li><<link 'Use the travel lantern you carry.' 'usethetravellantern'>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link 'Stumble forward into the darkness.' 'stumbleforwardintodarkness'>><<sethealth -5>><</link>></li> </ul>

Your witchlight erupts into a golden flare, sending light bursting into the room. <<include "lili6">>

You raise your little lantern, sending a weak light flickering into the room. <<include "lili6">>

You run towards where you think she is, tripping a little and rolling your ankle down the stairs. Behind you, Trouble lights one of the braziers near the top of the staircase. <<include "lili6">>

It illuminates a horror almost too disgusting to describe. An immense creature crowds the cellar, leaking black pus across the floors and shelves of wine. It is almost shapeless, inhuman, with a number of rheumy yellow eyes that swim along the dark mass of its form, as if it's barely holding itself together. Shiny black mushrooms sprout from the pores of its skin, budding and dying by the minute. Its breathing is labored, cavernously loud, and some what sort of strange black substance—resin?—leaks from the slit that forms its mouth and onto its chin. Staring at it, your mouth fills with bile, and that feeling of Rot darkens the edges of your visions. Somehow, you recognize the semi-familiar smell eking from the thing's body: it reminds you of that tin of Black Sun you confiscated from Benir Roxak. The horrible realization strikes you then. The thing is growing the mushrooms on its own body, and vomiting up the substance that creates Black Sun. This, then, must be the Faceless Lord. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "lili7">><</link>></center>

<<nobr>> <<set $clochushealth to 100>> <<set $mainweapon2 to "">> <<if settings.music is true>><<audio "battle3" volume 0.1 loop play>><</if>> Blade and Trouble draw their weapons; Riel pauses at the top of the stairs, but the hatch has somehow flown shut behind him. Prihine, the one closest to the Endarkened creature, turns her head to the side and retches. <</nobr>> The thing spots you standing there and gurgles, <<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="demonic">"Brightburner. Come to get your fill?"</span><<else>>"Brightburner. Come to get your fill?"<</if>><<nobr>><<if $mainweapon is "bow">><<set $mainweapon2 to "arrow">><<setbow +1>><<set $fire to "fire">><<set $fire2 to "shoot">><<set $fire3 to "reload">><<elseif $mainweapon is "sword">><<set $mainweapon2 to "blade">><<setsword +1>><<set $fire to "stab">><<set $fire2 to "slash">><<set $fire3 to "hack">><<elseif $mainweapon is "dagger">><<set $mainweapon2 to "knife">><<setdagger +1>><<set $fire to "stab">><<set $fire2 to "slash">><<set $fire3 to "hack">><<elseif $mainweapon is "gun">><<set $mainweapon2 to "bullet">><<setgun +1>><<set $fire to "fire">><<set $fire2 to "shoot">><<set $fire3 to "reload">><</if>><</nobr>> <ul class="choices"> <<if ($bow gte 20 or $gun gte 20) or ($sword gte 20 or $dagger gte 20)>><li><<link 'Raise your weapon and charge it.' 'raiseyoureweaponandchargeit'>><<setstrength +1>><<if $mainweapon is "bow">><<setbow +3>><<elseif $mainweapon is "gun">><<setgun +3>><<elseif $mainweapon is "dagger">><<setdagger +3>><<elseif $mainweapon is "sword">><<setsword +3>><</if>><<set $clochushealth -= 15>><<if $strength lt 20>><<sethealth -20>><</if>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $astral gte 20>><li><<link 'Set the thing on fire.' 'setthethingonfire'>><<set $clochushealth -= 20>><<setmagic +3>><<set $clochushealth -= 20>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link 'Drag Prihine out of the way. ' 'dragprihineoutoftheway'>><<set $prihineromanceflag += 1>><<setcompassionate +5>><<if $strength lt 20>><<sethealth -20>><</if>><</link>></li> </ul>

You use your $mainweapon to attack the creature, <<print $fire2>>ing rapid-fire as you lunge forward. Blade and Trouble join you, the former's sword arcing through the air like dark quicksilver, the latter's gunfire loud and ringing in your ears. The creature roars, but your weapons seem like the irritating bites of insects to it, rather than doing any real damage. It lashes out, its body forming writhing black tentacles that whip through the air, and Blade <<nobr>><<if $strength gte 20>> and you dodge out of the way, rolling nimbly to your feet just out of harm's way. Trouble is not so lucky: the butt end of his rifle gets caught and is sent spinning away into the darkness. <<else>> dodges, rolling nimbly out of the way. You and Trouble are not so lucky: the butt end of his rifle gets caught and is sent spinning away into the darkness. You are struck hard across the jaw and sent into the strange bulbous wall, and a falling bottle nearly shatters over your head. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "lili8">>

You raise your hand and draw on the source of power deep inside you, the spark in your blood setting alight the gunpowder lining your bones. You fling your will at the creature and imagine it erupting into white, dazzling flame. It shrieks as your magic sets upon it, popping and blistering its oozing skin. Trouble adds his bullets to the fray, and Blade pushes Prihine out of the way and grimly slices into the solid mass a flurry of times, too fast to count. But then the creature rallies, expelling a cloud of pus that extinguishes your magical flames. Writhing black tentacles whip outwards, snagging the end of Trouble's rifle and sending it flying; you and Blade barely manage to dodge. <<include "lili8">>

You're darting forward before anyone can react, seizing Prihine by the elbow and yanking her back as she shrieks. You manage to fling her into a soft(ish)-looking pile of packing materials before one of the creature's limbs comes whipping towards you, abnormally long. You <<nobr>><<if $strength gte 20>> dodge and roll out of the way, escaping harm, and Prihine scrambles backwards to get even further away from the thing's reach. <<else>> get struck fairly hard in the face, sending you flying backwards into Prihine; she pushes you off her even as you both scramble to get out of each other's way. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "lili8">>

The monster lets out some sort of screech. "<i>Turti, Turti, where is my precious vessel?</i>" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"He can\'t help you, demon!"' 'hecanthelpyoudemon'>><<setcourage +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"How long have you been possessing him?"' 'howlonghaveyoubeenpossessinghim'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> <<if $compassionate lt 50 or $cunning gte 25>><li><<link '"Tell me your name, and maybe I\'ll go fetch him for you."' 'tellmeyournamemaybeillfetchhim'>><</link>></li><</if>> </ul>

The thing gives a wet, gurgling laugh. "Help?" it echoes. "No, I am the one helping him! Before I came to him, he was weak, ineffectual… now he is powerful, exacting. Able to make good on his contacts all across your brightworld. With <i>my</i> help, he has been able to spread joy… and all the misery that comes with it. He has given the wretched animals food and pleasure, and made them all the more hungry." It eyes you greedily, all its yellow eyes spinning. "And I have fed on their hunger, their sloth. And I grow all the hungrier… Brightburner." <<include "lili9">>

The thing gives a wet, gurgling laugh. "Does it matter?" it asks. "Before I came to him, he was weak, ineffectual… now he is powerful, exacting. Able to make good on his contacts all across your brightworld. Now that I've come, he has been able to spread joy… and all the misery that comes with it. He has given the wretched animals food and pleasure, and made them all the more hungry." It eyes you greedily, all its yellow eyes spinning. "And I have fed on their hunger, their sloth. And I grow all the hungrier… Brightburner." <<include "lili9">>

The demon eyes you beadily. "Clochus," it says, a phlegmy, monstrous sound. "The Devourer. Prince of greed, sloth, and hunger…" <<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="demonic">"And oh, how I hunger for you, Brightburner."</span><<else>>"And oh, how I hunger for you, Brightburner."<</if>> <<include "lili9">>

Without warning, its limbs burst forward again to lash out at you. Blade slices one, two, four in twain with his sword, so fast that he blurs with the motion—but the limbs grow back even longer and stronger. Trouble fires with his pistol, but the bullets do little against such a strong demon. You spend several minutes battling it out with the Faceless Lord, though it really feels like hours. The miasma of its toxic essence seems to choke the room, and it becomes hard to breathe. Sweat pours down your face. You think someone may be banging on the cellar's hatch, but try as Riel might, it won't open from within. Prihine throws bottles of wine at the monster, but of course, that does nothing. Suddenly Riel cries from the top of the staircase: "Its eyes, blind its eyes!" You exchange a look with Blade, then Trouble. <ul class="choices"> <<if $magic gte 35 and $astral gte 30>><li><<link 'Blind the Faceless Lord using your magic.' 'blindfacelesslordusingmagic'>><<setmagic +1>><<set $clochushealth -= 10>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link 'Attack the Faceless Lord in tandem.' 'attackfacelesslordtandem'>><<setstrength +1>><<if $strength gte 30>><<set $clochushealth -= 30>><<else>><<set $clochushealth -= 15>><<sethealth -20>><</if>><</link>></li> </ul>

Blade and Trouble shut their eyes as you blast out a blistering surge of magic, powerful enough to singe eyeballs and permanently blind. The Faceless Lord screams in pained fury and thrashes full-tilt against the walls, sending bottles crashing down all around you. But it is blinded; its limbs lash out haphazardly, still dangerous but easier to dodge. <<include "lili10">>

The three of you surge forward as one, too fast for the demon to parry. Blade pierces three of the eyes, all flying to different parts of the creature's body; Trouble takes out another three in rapid succession. You aim for the last three, <<nobr>><<if $strength gte 30>> and you meet your marks cleanly; hot black acid gushes out of the demon's eyes, and it gives a pained roar of fury. <<else>> but you miss the last two as the eyes shoot away towards the sides of the creature's body. It gives a scream of fury and lashes you across the back and shoulders. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "lili10">>

Then it does something you were not expecting. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "clochus">><</link>></center>

All of the mushrooms lining the creature's body explode as one, in a shower of spores. There is the smell of something sweet and rotting, like fruit left to spoil in the sun, a splitting carcass on the road. The yellowish fumes fill the room. You cough in surprise and cover your mouth with a sleeve: already, Trouble has toppled over, insensate, and Blade is clearly struggling to remain conscious. Prihine has gone quiet somewhere behind you, and Riel shouts before losing consciousness—"Don't breathe it in, <<c firstname>>!" But the poisonous gas seems to have no effect on you. Blade gamely tries to fight on, hacking off another of the creature's limbs, before he looks at you and chokes out, "…Run." He staggers, sinking to the ground, and the creature laughs, bubbling and spitting up Black Sun as it gurgles. "When I consume your spirit and dissolve your bones inside my stomach, I'll make sure you feel every moment of it," it promises you darkly. "Speak your last words now, Brightburner, even if there's no one left to hear them." <<include "clochusdeath">>

<<nobr>><<if $clochushealth lte 50>> Your will, ever stronger, meets with the Faceless Lord's in a ferocious clash that sounds like the sun and moon colliding. It is such a momentous impact that your brain shorts out, and your vision goes white, and all the heat and cold leave your body at once, as if you have simply… dissolved. <br><br> Somewhere you hear the demon screaming, somewhere you feel its essence being purged from the world—but you don't see it. Still, when you feel the destruction of its soul, your own feels lightened… cleansed. <br><br> Then you open your eyes, see how its body has disappeared, even the ooze of Black Sun… and you know. <br><br> You have defeated the Faceless Lord for good. <br><br> <<include "clochusgone">> <<else>> Your will meets with the Faceless Lord's in a ferocious clash that sounds like the sun and moon colliding. It is such a momentous impact that your brain shorts out, and your vision goes white, and all the heat and cold leave your body at once, as if you have simply… dissolved. <br><br> Somewhere you hear the demon screaming, but its essence refuses to budge, like a black spot from the world that can't ever be erased. With a rising sense of panic, you realize you aren't strong enough to destroy it entirely… but you can banish it back to Hael. <br><br> You scream the words, though what you're saying you're not sure: they could as likely be epithets and wordless cries as they could be the words to an incantation. Still, you feel it—the worldwalls giving way, the warping and bending of space and time. When you feel the demon's soul go, your own feels lightened… cleansed. There is a <i>pop</i>, small and almost comedic in nature. <br><br> Then, when you open your eyes, you see that its body has disappeared… though the ooze of Black Sun was left behind. <br><br> You sag in relief. The Faceless Lord is gone. Not forever, but for now. <br><br> You've managed to save <<if $loyal gte 50>> your friends. <br><br> <<include "clochusgone">> <<else>> yourself. <br><br> <<include "clochusgone">> <</if>> <</if>><</nobr>>

You thrust your arm forward and pierce the Faceless Lord's throat with your $mainweapon2. The demon screams, its massive bulk convulsing, but you can barely see it. The sounds of its howls are too close and loud for you to comprehend—your vision whites out. Then one of its limbs lashes out, sending you crashing back against the wall. You feel a bone snap on impact. Clochus screams and gurgles. "<i>Fool</i>!" it shrieks. "You think a mortal weapon can kill me?" You try to get up again, but find that you can barely move. <<include "clochusdeath">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "clochusgonea">><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<audio ":playing" fadeoverto 5 0>><<if $clochusdead is true>><<achieve "achieve_devourer">><<notify_achievement "The Second Faceless Lord" "Destroyed Clochus, the Devourer, and freed Haven from Black Sun forever.">><</if>><</nobr>>Then the room spins crazily, and your vision doubles. Before you even know it, you're falling sideways… and the ground rushes up to meet you. The darkness takes you up like an old friend. <<include "aftermathminister">>

<<set $priestsus to false>>"Thank you for the commendation," Riel answers gravely. He looks at you. "Shall we enter?" You nod. "Let's." You leave the baffled servant behind and step into the manse proper, taking in your surroundings for the first time. The party is being held in the mansion's grand ball room, a cavernous space filled with warm light. The walls are lined with slender beechwood panels, richly worked with carvings and motifs, and the ceiling boasts a huge mural painted by one of Haven's most famous painters—depicting a creature with a bull's head and a man's body being slain by a hero languishing in a lake with a naked woman. Tables line the room, filled with canapés and bowls of iced punch—these Trouble makes a direct beeline for—and in the back of the room, a small quartet of players warm up their instruments. There are already dozens of chattering aristocrats crammed into the ballroom, talking animatedly; a cloud of perfume and glittering elegance seems to hang around them like a fog. Quite instantly, you find yourself separated from the others as they all split off to conduct their own investigations: Trouble grazes by the food assortments, Blade has already been accosted by a young noblewoman, and Riel attaches himself seamlessly to a conversation among three regal-looking courtiers. You spot a humble-looking priest of the One-God, an augur, standing by himself and approach him. The priest smiles in a crinkle-eyed way as you turn to him. "Hello," he says cheerfully. "My name is Augur Ryneck. Who are you?" You introduce yourself as <<c falsename>> <<c falsesurname>>, and he nods sagely. "Tell me, <<c falsename>>," he says, "are you a God-loving $woman?" <ul class="choices"> <<if $belief is "one-god">><li><<link '"I am. I visit the Church as often as I can."' 'iamivisitchurchoftenican'>><<setreputation +1>><<setfaith +10>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $belief is "one-god">><li><<link '"I love God, but I don\'t pray as much as I should."' 'ilovegodbutdontprayasmuchasshould'>><<setfaith +3>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $belief is "oldfaith">><li><<link '"I am... if you\'re talking about the old gods."' 'iamifyouretalkingoldgods'>><<setfaith +3>><<setcourage +2>><<setreputation -1>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $cunning gte 25>><li><<link '<b>[LIE]</b> "Of course I am. I love God more than anyone."' 'ofcoursegodmorethaniloveanyone'>><<setcharisma +1>><<setcunning +3>><<setreputation +1>><</link>></li><<else>><<disabled "<b>[LIE]</b> \"Of course I am. I love God more than anyone.\"">><</if>> <li><<link '"No, not really."' 'nonotreallypriest'>><<setreputation -1>><<setfaith -15>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I don\'t believe in a god."' 'idontbelieveingodpriest'>><<setfaith -20>><<setreputation -3>><<set $priestsus to true>><</link>></li> </ul>

The augur smiles, looking pleased. "I thought I sensed the goodness in your heart. My own rejoices to be in the presence of another child of heaven." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Even if I am Diminished?"' 'evenifiamdiminishedpriest'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Likewise: I\'ve always found the aura of augurs to be comforting."' 'likewiseialwaysfoundaugurscomforting'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Augur Ryneck tilts his head. "Why would that matter?" he asks gently. "You should know: the One-God loves Xis children equally and fairly. Race doesn't matter to one such as Xer." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"That\'s not what the Autarch says."' 'thatsnotwhatautarchsays'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Of course. You\'re right."' 'ofcoursepriestisright'>><</link>></li> </ul>

"She says the One-God chose pure-blooded Norms to be the One-God's leaders on earth," you point out. "And sometimes she even goes so far as to say that the One-God champions Norms as Xis golden children, over all others." The augur merely shakes his head. "There are splintered messages, but only one truth: the One-God's love. All else is… debate amongst mortals. Political leanings. Historical warpings." He looks briefly saddened. "I try to tell Turti the same all the time." <<include "priestcont2">>

He beams. "I'm glad you know this. I try to remind Turti of it all the time." <<include "priestcont2">>

He beams. "Turti always says that, too." <<include "priestcont2">>

The augur smiles, looking pleased. "I thought I sensed the goodness in your heart. My own rejoices to be in the presence of another child of heaven." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Even if I am Diminished?"' 'evenifiamdiminishedpriest'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Likewise: I always found the aura of augurs to be comforting."' 'likewiseialwaysfoundaugurscomforting'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

The priest blinks, looking taken aback by your scandalous response. "Who, then, do you believe put the sun in the sky?" he asks. He doesn't seem angry, more distantly interested. "Who do you think placed the Autarch on the throne of Heaven?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Forces I may not know the name of... but I know it wasn\'t the One-God."' 'forcesimaynotknownameofbutwasnt'>><</link>></li> <<if $intelligence gte 30>><li><<link '"The sun is a giant ball of flaming gas that existed well before the earth did. And the Autarch\'s ancestors placed themselves on the throne in a military coup."' 'sunisgiantballofgas'>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link '"I don\'t claim to know the answers. I just don\'t believe there\'s some benevolent being hanging around in the sky."' 'idontclaimanswersbutnobelieve'>><</link>></li> </ul>

He tilts his head. "How do you know these <i>forces you don't know</i> are not the One-God?" You shrug. "I just… know." The priest purses his lips. "Hmm. You would do well not to mention these opinions to Turti. He positively despises Diminished pagans." <<include "priestcont2">>

The augur folds his hands into his voluminous sleeves, pondering it. "About twenty years, I should say," he muses. "Since shortly before he took his position as Minister of Trade." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"That\'s a long time of service."' 'thtaslongtimeservicepriest'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Why did the Autarch choose him for the position?"' 'whyautarchchoosepriest'>><</link>></li> </ul>

"Yes," Augur Ryneck agrees serenely. "It is." <<include "priestcont2">>

Augur Ryneck smiles a little. "Such an honest question! You are precious, child." He thinks on it a moment. "It is an old and well-known story among the court. Turti was once a young treasurer of middling birth. He worked for the previous Minister of Trade as one of his aides. One day he noticed that the previous Minister had been miscalculating records being given to the Autarch's offices: whether this was incompetence or an attempt to siphon off gold, I do not know. Turti, fearing blame should the error be discovered, reported it to the Autarch himself before the Autarch's spies could. His predecessor was executed for it, and Turti was rewarded for his loyalty by being given the position instead." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"That... seems to be a poor way to choose very powerful politicians."' 'poorwaytochoosepowerful'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Do you think Turti sabotaged his predecessor himself?"' 'turtisabotagedpredecessor'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

The augur laughs lightly. "The Autarch channels the will of the One-God," he says. You can't tell if that's his way of agreeing with you or not. <<include "priestcont2">>

The augur strokes his chin. "He used to come to my Church in the Market Quarter once a sennight. Lately, however, his work has kept him too busy, and his visits have dropped off. I haven't seen him in four or so moons. I was pleasantly surprised to hear I was invited tonight." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"What do you talk about when he does visit?"' 'talkaboutvisitpriest'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"His work?"' 'hisworkpriest'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Have you noticed him acting odd lately?"' 'noticedhimoddlatelypriest'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Did you know his wife? Prihine?"' 'hiswifeprihineknow'>><</link>></li> </ul>

The augur laughs lightly. "That is between Turti, me, and the One-God," he tells you gently. <<include "priestcont2">>

"Well, as I said, I haven't seen him recently," the augur says. "But now that you mention it, when I last saw him, he was complaining of frequent stomach upsets, being forced to rest at home more often rather than going out. And he was very ill directly after his wedding. I related that to the stress of the attack, though, and grief for his lost wife, and I prayed fervently for his recovery." He looks grave. "Had it not been for the grace of the One-God, it would have been I officiating that ceremony, and I who had my head torn off." You suddenly realize, with a sinking feeling of dread, that you never actually saw what happened to Turti during the Endarkened attack on the wedding. Did he run away with everyone else? Was he injured in the assault? "Was he touched by a demon during that disaster?" you wonder aloud. Augur Ryneck looks shocked at the very implication. "Goodness, no," he exclaims. "Everyone knows an Endarkened's touch is corrupting and cursed. He would have come to me to be cleansed, and he did not. He came away from the event miraculously unscathed." Somehow, you're not so sure. <<include "priestcont2">>

Augur Ryneck's face saddens. "I met her once," he says, "when they were planning the ceremony. It was a brief and fleeting meeting, and in the end I was not able to attend the wedding itself. But from what I knew of her... she seemed... fragile. Hurt. A little sad." He shakes his head. "Such a shame to see such a young life snuffed out so quickly. Alas, she is with the One-God now." <<include "priestcont2">>

<<nobr>><<if $priestsus is true>> <<include "investigationfail">> <<else>> The augur is looking at you with kind but very shrewd eyes. "Do you know," he says cheerfully, "since you seem so interested in learning about our dear host, I might as well introduce you to someone—his cousin, Lady Amantia." <br><br> He guides you by the elbow to a well-dressed, gaily-laughing lady, introducing the two of you before bowing and making his exit. Lady Amantia takes to you in a heartbeat: she is cheery and bubbly, but can't seem to concentrate long enough to talk about anything of significance. You listen to her natter on about the latest fashions, the canapés at the party, and some idle court gossip for quite a while. Not once does she ask you anything about yourself. <<include "amantiachatter2">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Lady Amantia laughs breathlessly. "Of course I am, of course!" She beams at you, looking positively manic. <<include "amantiachatter2">>

She laughs, the sound similar to the twittering of birds. "Why, all our lives, darling! We're cousins, after all! <i>First</i> cousins, first!" <<include "amantiachatter2">>

<<set $amantialike to false>>"Have you gone anywhere in our fair city?" you ask her, rather desperately. Judging by her accent and excitableness, you'd guess she hasn't been in Haven very much. Amantia has a big, red-painted smile. "Not as much as I would like, darling, what with those wretched monsters running about at night." She hums thoughtfully. "My dear, do you know of any wonderful places for a cultured lady like me to go? Some place I can boast about to all my friends back home?" <ul class="choices"> <<if $tallystime gte 1>><li><<link '"The Autarch\'s menagerie is a fine place to see the natural wonders of the world."' 'autarchmenageriefineplacewonders'>><<setcharisma +1>><<set $amantialike to true>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $troubletime gt 1>><li><<link '"There\'s a pub in Smoketown called the Burning Crown."' 'burningpubsmoketown'>><<setcunning -1>><<setintelligence -1>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $shopvisit gte 1>><li><<link '"There\'s a funny little shop in Market Quarter run by a clown."' 'funnyshopquarterclown'>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $newspaper gte 1>><li><<link '"There\'s a new tea shop in Market Quarter that specializes in afternoon tea. The newspaper said it was very refined."' 'newtteashopmarketquarter'>><<set $amantialike to true>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link '"Have you visited Merchants Guild? It\'s on very pretty grounds."' 'visitedmerchantsguildpretty'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"What about the university?"' 'whataboutuniversityamantia'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'ve got nothing."' 'ivegotnothingamantia2'>><<setcharisma -3>><<setcunning -3>><<setintelligence -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Her eyes light up. "Is that so?" she cries. "Oh, I must go at once! That sounds utterly, ravishingly delightful!" You've never seen anyone so excited about going to a zoo before. <<include "amantiasuccess2">>

Her smile never leaves her face. "Is that so?" Amantia says politely. "How interesting." <<include "amantiafail2">>

Her eyes light up. "Is that so?" she cries. "Oh, I must go at once! That sounds utterly, ravishingly delightful!" You've never seen anyone so excited about afternoon tea before. <<include "amantiasuccess2">>

Amantia laughs a little. "Oh, that place is so learned. It is of no interest to me, my dear." <<include "amantiafail2">>

The smile never leaves Amantia's face. "That's all right, my dear." <<include "amantiafail2">>

"Maybe you can go with your cousin Turti?" you suggest, trying to connect the conversation back to your investigation. Immediately, Amantia's face falls, and she looks a little nervous. "Oh," she says, her eyes trailing away, "I don't think I shall impose. He is very busy lately…" "Busy doing what?" you press. Amantia looks around, then lowers her voice conspiratorially. "He's been acting strange," she whispers. "Not like himself. At first I thought he was suffering from simple grief... but I don't think it's that. I brought him some treats once, to cheer him up, but when I was outside of his office I heard him talking to someone. Someone with a deep, strange voice. I waited outside the door, but when he stopped and I opened it, <i>no one was there</i>." She looks at you, as if to see if her horror story has spooked you. "Isn't that odd? He must have been talking to himself with a different voice, but he doesn't seem… well. Well, you'll see him." Before you can ask her any more, her face suddenly brightens. "I know," she says in an intimate tone. "You should talk to dear Zilka, his old school friend—he has loads of interesting things to say about Turti." She leads you over to a dark-skinned, amber-eyed man with the air of a bored housecat. He's dressed in the fine threads of the West, and looks indifferent as Amantia enthusiastically introduces him as the ambassador to the Jalis Lugalate—an esteemed position, she assures you. "Dear Zilkie and I are wonderful friends, along with Turti," she chirps. "He'll tell you all about our old days together. As for me, I'm going to track down one of those ravishing lemon ices!" "Do not leave us here long," Zilka tells her, never looking at you; though you think his eyes might linger on Amantia as the cheerful lady rushes away. Then he turns to you and says flatly, "Charmed, I'm sure." You introduce yourself, since Amantia never bothered to give your false name or occupation. <<nobr>><<if $disguise is "servant">> As soon as he hears that you're supposedly a servant, however, the ambassador doesn't want anything to do with you. <br><br> <<include "investigationfail">> <<elseif $disguise is "bodyguard">> As soon as he hears that you're a lowly bodyguard, however, the ambassador doesn't want anything to do with you. <br><br> <<include "investigationfail">> <<else>> <<include "zilkamore">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<set $zilkasus to 0, $metzilka to true>>Zilka looks vaguely disdainful, though that might just be his usual face. "So," he says in his courtly drawl, clearly making conversation just to be polite: "A <<nobr>><<if $disguise is "merchant">> merchant, you say. What do you trade, friend?" <br><br> You think fast. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Silks and cloths."' 'zilkasilkandclothes'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Weapons and armor."' 'zilkadisinterested'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Livestock and produce."' 'zilkadisinterested'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Exotic fruits and herbs."' 'zilkadisinterested'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Puppies."' 'puppieszilka2'>><<set $zilkasus += 1>><<setintelligence -1>><<setreputation -2>><</link>></li> </ul> <<elseif $disguise is "scholar">> scholar. What do you study, friend?" <br><br> You think fast. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Magic. Diminished legends."' 'magicdiminishedlegends2'>><<setreputation -3>><<set $zilkasus += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"History and the past."' 'historyandthepast2'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Science and the heavens."' 'scienceandtheheavens2'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Economics and politics."' 'economicsandpolitics2'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Literature and the arts."' 'literatureandthearts2'>><</link>></li> </ul> <</if>><</nobr>>

Zilka makes a humming noise. "Do you ever deal with Jalis merchants?" he asks. "It is said our region has the finest silks in all the Continents." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"My caravans never make it that far, alas."' 'caravansnevermakeitfar'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Oh, yes, all the time."' 'ohyessallthetimezilka'>><<if $charisma gte 30 or $cunning gte 30>><<setcharisma +1>><<setreputation +1>><<else>><<set $zilkasus += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> </ul>

Zilka hums, losing interest. "Oh, I see." <<include "zilkaask2">>

"Really?" Zilka begins rattling off names of silk merchants he knows from Jalis. <<nobr>><<if $charisma gte 30>> Thankfully, your quick wit saves you, and you are able to smoothly play along well enough to convince him. <<include "zilkaask2">> <<else>> You try to fumble along, but it's clear you don't know what you're talking about, and he quickly becomes suspicious. <<include "zilkaask2">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Zilka hums, looking disinterested. "Oh, I see." <<include "zilkaask2">>

Zilka gives no reaction to this scandalous admission. "I see." <<include "zilkaask2">>

He nods. "Typical for your kind," he says, in such a light tone that you nearly miss the insult. "Have you looked into the writings of Lampus Seguna?" <ul class="choices"> <<if $intelligence gte 30>><li><<link 'You have, actually.' 'youhaveheeardoflampus2'>><<setreputation +1>><<setcharisma +1>><<setintelligence +2>><</link>></li><<else>><<disabled 'You have, actually.'>><</if>> <li><<link 'Bluff. "Of course."' 'bluffofcourse2'>><<if ($charisma gte 30 or $intelligence gte 30) and $cunning gte 30>><<setcharisma +1>><<setintelligence +1>><<else>><<setreputation -3>><<set $zilkasus += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Haven\'t heard of him."' 'haventheardoflampus2'>><<set $zilkasus += 1>><<setreputation -3>><</link>></li> </ul>

You wax on about Seguna's essays and counter-arguments against them until Zilka sighs politely, signaling that he's ready to move on with the conversation. <<include "zilkaask2">>

<<nobr>><<if ($charisma gte 30 or $intelligence gte 30) and $cunning gte 30>> You guess wildly, making bland but intelligent-sounding statements about Seguna's essays, which you've never actually read. Zilka tolerates this for a while before sighing politely, signaling that he's ready to move on to some other topic. <<include "zilkaask2">> <<else>> You bluff wildly, but you can tell your lame ramblings fail to impress Zilka, whose eyes narrow in suspicion. "I see," he says drolly. <<include "zilkaask2">> <</if>><</nobr>>

He frowns. "Really? I'd thought Seguna's essays were rather basic. Ah, well." However, he looks suspicious of you. <<include "zilkaask2">>

Zilka nods. "I'm partial to star-gazing myself," he says. "I have an observatory back home: the night sky in Jalis is marvelous. Tell me, what do you think of the movement of Pale Fortuna?" <ul class="choices"> <<if $charisma gte 20 or $cunning gte 20>><li><<link 'Bluff. "I think it portends good crops this year."' 'ithinkitportentsgoodcropsthisyear2'>><<setcharisma +1>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li><<else>><<disabled '"I think it portends good crops this year."'>><</if>> <<if $intelligence gte 30>><li><<link 'Pale Fortuna is the name for a white star that appears near the Polar Candle on some nights. "I think it\'s a very unusual occurrence."' 'thefairladyisthenamewhitestar2'>><<setintelligence +2>><<setcharisma +1>><<setreputation +2>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link 'Change the subject. "Tell me, where did you get that marvelous coat?"' 'changethesubjectwheredidyouget2'>><<if $charisma lt 35>><<set $zilkasus += 1>><<setcharisma -1>><<else>><<setcharisma +1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I think it\'s... um... bad?"' 'ithinkfairladymovemenisbad2'>><<set $zilkasus += 1>><<setintelligence -2>><<setcharisma -2>><</link>></li> </ul>

<<nobr>><<if $charisma gte 35>> It's an abrupt change in subject, for sure, but you are smooth and charming enough that Zilka doesn't really notice it. Soon you are engaged in animated talk about clothes, and he seems to forget all about asking you about science. <<include "zilkaask2">> <<else>> Zilka frowns, clearly thrown off by your abrupt change in subject. "My tailor," he says flatly, looking suspicious of you. <<include "zilkaask2">> <</if>><</nobr>>

His eyes narrow. "I see," Zilka says, clearly suspicious of you. <<include "zilkaask2">>

Zilka shifts. "Is that so?" he asks idly. "Tell me, what do you think of that Mage who calls himself king—Kaza Akshin?" <ul class="choices"> <<if $intelligence gte 30 or $newspaper gte 1>><li><<link 'You\'ve heard this name before: he\'s the Lightning-Cutter, the foreign king of the southern isle Elinden.' 'youveheardthisnamelightningcutter2'>><<setreputation +2>><<setcharisma +1>><<setintelligence +2>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link 'Guess. "The only true monarch is the Autarch."' 'guesstheonlytruemonarchistheautarch2'>><<if $charisma lt 35 and $cunning lt 35>><<set $zilkasus += 1>><<else>><<setcharisma +1>><<setcunning +1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'ve never heard of him."' 'iveneverheardofkingkaza2'>><<setcunning -3>><<setintelligence -1>><<set $zilkasus += 1>><</link>></li> </ul>

"I think it must have been very easy for him to ascend to his throne," you say, guessing at what Zilka would approve of. "Given how the entire country of Elinden is nothing but a lawless land of brigands and Diminished barbarians. He's not so much a king as he is a coraller of savages." Zilka smirks. "Well said." <<include "zilkaask2">>

<<nobr>><<if $charisma gte 35 and $cunning gte 35>> Zilka looks briefly suspicious, but you're smooth enough to soothe any concerns he might have. "Well said," he says. <<include "zilkaask2">> <<else>> Zilka's eyes narrow. "What does the Autarch have to do with it? He is in Elinden, not the Continent." <br><br> Uh-oh. You fumble for an explanation; it's enough to move on to a new topic, but Zilka looks suspicious of you. <<include "zilkaask2">> <</if>><</nobr>>

He narrows his eyes. "Really? I find that hard to believe." <<include "zilkaask2">>

<<set $artpiece to "">>Zilka hums. "Oh, yes? What's your favorite work?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Deflect. "Oh, there are too many to choose from..."' 'bluffohtherearetoomany2'>><<if $charisma gte 30>><<setcharisma +1>><<else>><<set $zilkasus += 1>><<setreputation -2>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Bluff by making up something on the spot. "The..."' 'makeupsomethingonthespot2'>><<if $charisma gte 35 or $cunning gte 32>><<setreputation +1>><<setcunning +1>><<setcharisma +1>><<else>><<setreputation -2>><<set $zilkasus += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <<if $intelligence gte 35>><li><<link 'Name an actual art piece you like.' 'nameanactualartpiece2'>><</link>></li><<else>><<disabled 'Name an actual art piece you like.'>><</if>> </ul>

<<nobr>><<if $charisma gte 30>> Zilka nods. "I suppose I'm the same way. Why favor one when you can favor them all?" <<include "zilkaask2">> <<else>> "Mm-hmm," Zilka says—but it's clear he doesn't believe you. <<include "zilkaask2">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $charisma gte 35 or $cunning gte 32>> Zilka blinks, convinced by the swiftness of your answer. "Oh? I've never heard of it. I should look it up sometime." <br><br> You make up some details about this fake art piece, engaging in animated discussion about it for a while. <<include "zilkaask2">> <<else>> His eyes narrow. "I've never heard of that." <br><br> "Oh, no?" you say airily. "It's very famous…" <br><br> But it's clear he doesn't believe you. <<include "zilkaask2">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<set $zilkaushala to false>><<include "zilkaask2b">>

Zilka waves an elegant gloved hand. "I am here with my sister and a few cousins," he says. "Though at the moment, I am escaping their dull conversations by having this one." <<include "zilkaask2b">>

He grunts into his wine glass. "There are other things I'd rather be doing," he says. "The guest of honor and I are… not on the best of terms." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Why are you at his birthday party, then?"' 'whyareyouathisbirthdayparty2'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"What do you mean? Why not?"' 'whatdoyoumeanwhynot2'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Oh, I see..."' 'ohiseedotdotdot2'>><</link>></li> </ul>

But Zilka only shakes his head and says nothing more. <<include "zilkaask2b">>

Zilka looks away, clearly growing impatient with this topic. <<include "zilkaask2b">>

He scoffs. "It is a tragic joke," he drawls. "There is no real government; no ambassadors to meet with me. Jalis is a lawless wasteland, given over to disparate tribes, nomads, and war-parties and warlords struggling for domination. There are at least five separate people claiming to be the ruler of Jalis, any of whom will be assassinated by rivals any day now. I lounge all day in the sun and bake." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Why were you sent there, then?"' 'whywereyousenttherethen2'>><<set $zilkaushala to true>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Is there anything good about it?"' 'isthereanythinggoodaboutit2'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"It sounds like your talents are being wasted over there."' 'itsoundslikeyourtalentsarebeingwasted2'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

His look turns even more sour. "Turti Ushala," he says tersely. "But since it is his birthday, I shall say nothing more." <<include "zilkaask2b">>

Zilka's look brightens. "Yes," he says decisively. "I have been saying that for years." He gives you a look of approval. "I am glad, at least, that you can see that." <<include "zilkaask2b">>

<<nobr>><<if $charisma gte 36 and $zilkasus lt 1>> Zilka frowns at your uncouth change in subject. But another part of him seems eager to talk about it. "I am surprised you have not heard," he says in a low voice. "It was the talk of the town for years. Turti Ushala, you see, has slandered me and my family's name. He made… <i>insinuations</i> to the Autarch. Insinuations that my… my blood is not as pure as I might claim." His fist balls suddenly. "If I had known at the time that it was he who did it, I would have dueled him in a heartbeat. Alas, the Autarch sent me away, to Jalis…" His voice drops. "And now that I have returned, I find that he is favored. Protected." A long pause. "My revenge may go un-had." <br><br> "Your revenge?" you ask. <br><br> "I seek to ruin him," Zilka says, rather bluntly. It seems you've gained his trust. Or maybe he's just sick to death of having no one to talk to over in Jalis. <br><br> "How?" you ask. <br><br> He shrugs. "Finding anything I can that might put him in bad light to the Autarch." <br><br> "And have you found anything?" <br><br> "Not as of yet," Zilka says with a frown. "Though…" He looks at you suddenly, as if remembering who he's speaking to. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Yes?"' 'zilkaconfess2a'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Anything you say is safe with me."' 'zilkaconfess2a'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Don\'t worry, I don\'t know anyone here."' 'zilkaconfess2a'>><</link>></li> </ul> <<else>> He gazes at you, his expression flattening with suspicion. "I do not wish to speak of that here," is all he says, his tone perfectly neutral and dead. <br><br> <<include "investigationfail">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<set $courtesanknow to true>>Zilka leans forward; his breath smells of mint and thyme. "He keeps a courtesan," he whispers to you. "Not the worst crime in the world, at least not to those in the Sun Court, but I'd be willing to wager she knows quite a lot about him. Courtesans always do." He smirks at you, then winks. "Scandalous, is it not? Welcoming a courtesan into his bed not a season after his wife was killed in front of him at their wedding? I find it obscene. And I have it on good authority that she is in his private rooms right now." He motions subtly towards a door set in the back of the ballroom. "If I were someone a bit bolder—someone curious about his secrets—I would head up there now, while he's preoccupied with the party. And if that person were to find anything valuable… I would pay a healthy sum to hear it, too." Then he turns away, smiling a secret smile, just as fanfare strikes up at the front of the ballroom. A red-robed figure is descending the stairs, to the applause and cheers of the partygoers: presumably the Minister himself. Zilka coughs subtly again and glances at you. <<include "investigationsucceed">>

<<set $courtesanknow to false>>The conversation grinds to a chilly, awkward halt, and you stand there for a few moments in clumsy silence before you excuse yourself and turn away. Riel comes sidling up to you, his eyes wary as he scans the crowd for any listeners. "Anything?" he asks you. Blade and Trouble are still occupied with talking to their own interviewees. You shake your head. "Not so far." Riel sighs. "The same with me. There are plenty of Turti's enemies here, if you can believe it—people who would be happy to see him fall from grace—but he's been such a recluse these past months that no one seems to know anything special about him." His eyes dart towards the front of the room just as a fanfare from the orchestra kicks up. A red-robed figure, too far away to see properly, begins to descend to the cheers and applause of the partygoers. Riel turns back to you. "That's the Minister himself," he says in a low voice, tilting his head towards a half-hidden servant's door tucked away in a forgotten corner of the room. "Now would be a perfect time to look around his offices, his rooms, for anything of note. The others and I will stay here and try to see if we can uncover anything else." You hesitate, looking back at Turti. "What if I get caught?" "Just say you were a lost guest, looking for the privy," Riel returns. "This is a party, <<c falsename>>: there are too many guests, too many servants here. Turti wouldn't harm anyone, not here. And he'll be preoccupied down in the ballroom, anyway. I'll be sure to keep him busy and delay him as long as I have to." You nod; you suppose you have no choice. "I'll go, then. Let's hope I can find something of use." <<include "courtesanrooms">>

You look around. Riel, Blade, and Trouble still seem to be preoccupied with talking to their own interviewees; you catch Riel's eye, and he glances at Turti's descending figure before nodding at you. How does he know what you're asking? But when you jerk your head towards the back door leading to the mansion's private quarters, he raises his eyebrows and nods again. So. You suppose you're going to go up and talk to Turti's courtesan. <<include "courtesanrooms">>

<<nobr>><<if settings.music is true>><<audio ":playing" fadeoverto 5 0>><</if>><</nobr>>You slip through the door, shutting it on the noise and chatter of the party behind you; the roar of crowd dampens instantly as you creep up rich, red-carpeted stairs and up into the Minister's private rooms. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "courtesanroomsa">><</link>></center>

You search first through his office, which contains a stately oaken desk and several hand-painted portraits hanging on the walls (one, unnervingly, of Prihine). You riffle through the minister's papers, but can find nothing of interest at first: unless he writes in numbered code, all you find are inventory sheets and ledgers for his work as Minister of Trade. Then you pause. Here is a contract addressed to the Karzaki trade minister, intended to exchange several hundred crates of... <i>something</i>. Then, in black ink: <span class="crazy">no! NO! NO! I CANNOT DO IT!</span> But it's scribbled out. Strange… You read on. The contract refers to the "something" as "Eclipse." This seems to be an obvious reference to Black Sun—but is it enough to expose him? To convince the Autarch or anyone else of his nefarious activities? <<nobr>><<if $courtesanknow is true>> <<include "porfiriatalk">> <<else>> <<include "porfiriaattack">> <</if>><</nobr>>

A sudden noise at the office door makes you look up, shoving the papers back into the desk. A beautiful, svelte woman stands in the doorway, wearing a slinky red gown that she's slipped off her shoulders: she's literally half-naked! When she sees you, she hurriedly stuffs her breasts back into her dress, but she seems unembarrassed and more intrigued to find you here. "Who are you?" she asks in a musical voice. Dark ringlets fall all around her shoulders. "I was expecting Turti." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I\'m sorry, I\'m... lost."' 'porfiriatalk2'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I was... looking for the privy."' 'porfiriatalk2'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I was just admiring this nice office."' 'porfiriatalk2'>><</link>></li> </ul>

The woman—and she must be the courtesan Zilka mentioned—raises a slender brow. "You didn't answer my question," she notes. "But I suppose I don't much care. It's not my home." She folds her arms, elegant painted nails showing red on her deep tanned skin. "What are you looking for… <<c rank>>?" You freeze. How did she know your rank? <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Play it cool. "You must have the wrong person."' 'porfiriatalk3'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"How did you know who I am?"' 'porfiriatalk3'>><<setcunning -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Remain silent.' 'porfiriatalk3'>><</link>></li> </ul>

The courtesan smirks. "You have the bearing of someone who works for the law," she notes. "I've been in the Velvet Guild long enough to tell the difference." <<include "porfiria">>

"The Courtesans Guild, just with a more delicate name," she says in a bored tone. "It's just like any other guild. It instructs us in our profession, protects us, trains us, arranges things for us. It's as esteemed and respected as Merchants Guild; I'm surprised you haven't heard of it, honestly." <<include "porfiria">>

"Porfiria," she answers idly. "'Velvet rose of the Sesz Isles.'" She curtsies, a bit ironically, but doesn't ask you your name. <<include "porfiria">>

"Since his wedding," she answers, unconcerned. <<include "porfiria">>

She laughs lightly. "Why, are you wondering for yourself?" Then she tilts her head, blinking coquettish, kohl-lined long eyelashes. "Yes—I do come at a very high cost. The Minister has paid dearly for my… ministrations." <<include "porfiria">>

Porfiria smiles. "Oh, he is <i>very</i> good to me," she says with some meaning you don't fully understand. A strange glint has appeared in her eyes. <<include "porfiria">>

As she approaches you, all at once you're set with a sharp, strong feeling of <i>wrongness</i>, as if your stomach had twisted suddenly. A stench invades your nostrils, and you nearly gag. Through the smarting in your eyes, you see the courtesan reaching towards you with her soft hands. She places one on your shoulder and practically purrs: "Ah, you feel it now, don't you? <i>Brightburner</i>?" All at once, her hand turns to a long, black, snakelike limb, slimy and covered in pustules. The limb wraps around your neck, as fast as a squid's, and begins to brutally squeeze. Your feet lift off the ground, and you feel as if your brain might burst from the pressure. <<include "porfiriastrangle">>

Suddenly, the voice in your head rings out: <b><i>Beware!</i></b> Before you can turn, something suddenly wraps around your neck, cutting off your air supply. You gag and choke, looking down at the long, snakelike black limb that's wrapped itself around your throat. You strain to turn your head and see your invisible attacker: in the reflection of the office window you see a slender, beautiful woman strangling you, one of her hands transformed into the strange alien limb. Even as you watch through swimming eyes, her features shift and warp into something altogether… <i>inhuman</i>, the flesh seeming to melt to reveal a nightmarish, masslike face. "Come here to meet me, Brightburner?" the woman—no, the thing—coos. <<include "porfiriastrangle">>

The Faceless Lord! You try to open your mouth to scream, to shout for help, but of course the demon is crushing the life out of you, pitiless. You don't have much time before you black out… and once you lose consciousness, it's all over for you. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Speak a Word of Power!' 'destroyclochus'>><<set $godspeaker -= 1>><<set $facelesslordsdead += 1>><<set $clochusdead to true>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Fight back with your magic!' 'fightbackwithyourmagic'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Fight back with your physical strength!' 'fightbackwithyourphysicalstrength'>><</link>></li> </ul>

<<nobr>><<if settings.music is true>><<audio "battle3" volume 0.1 loop play>><</if>> <<if $magic gte 40>> You close your eyes and imagine burning your way through the tentacle wrapped around your neck; you feel the air heat and the demon shriek as it recoils from you, retreating and releasing you from its grip. Out of the corner of your eye you watch as the Faceless Lord sheds its human skin, melting into a huge black mass of pus with many eyes. <br><br> <<include "fightclochus">> <<else>> You try and imagine burning your way through the tentacle wrapped around your neck; but its grip is too strong, and your concentration slips as you struggle and flail just to remain awake. Soon enough, you find yourself plunging into darkness… <br><br> <<include "clochusfail">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if settings.music is true>><<audio "battle3" volume 0.1 loop play>><</if>> <<if $strength gte 35>> You buck violently, planting your feet up on the edge of the desk and heaving all your weight backwards. The move takes the demon by surprise, and with an inhuman shriek, it topples backwards, trying desperately to keep its grip on your neck. You lash and headbutt and strike for all your worth, pummeling its vulnerable human flesh with vicious blows. The Faceless Lord loosens its stranglehold on you as it retreats back, shriveling and melting into a huge black mass of pus with many eyes. <br><br> <<include "fightclochus">> <<else>> You buck violently, planting your feet up on the edge of the desk and heaving all your weight backwards—but it might as well be the flailing of a rabbit caught in a lion's mouth, for all the good it does you. You lash and struggle and scratch, but nothing can loosen the Faceless Lord's grip on you. Soon enough, you find yourself plunging into darkness… <br><br> <<include "clochusfail">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<set $clochushealth to 100>><<if $mainweapon is "bow">><<set $mainweapon2 to "arrow">><<setbow +1>><<set $fire to "fire">><<set $fire2 to "shoot">><<set $fire3 to "reload">><<elseif $mainweapon is "sword">><<set $mainweapon2 to "blade">><<setsword +1>><<set $fire to "stab">><<set $fire2 to "slash">><<set $fire3 to "hack">><<elseif $mainweapon is "dagger">><<set $mainweapon2 to "knife">><<setdagger +1>><<set $fire to "stab">><<set $fire2 to "slash">><<set $fire3 to "hack">><<elseif $mainweapon is "gun">><<set $mainweapon2 to "bullet">><<setgun +1>><<set $fire to "fire">><<set $fire2 to "shoot">><<set $fire3 to "reload">><</if>><</nobr>>You face off with the Faceless Lord, still gagging and gasping for breath. It waits only a moment before surging towards you, belching some kind of noxious fume from nodes positioned all along the black, slimy mass of its body. "Brightburner," it gurgles. "<i>Die</i>." <ul class="choices"> <<if ($bow gte 30 or $gun gte 30) or ($sword gte 30 or $dagger gte 30)>><li><<link 'Raise your weapon and meet it in battle.' 'raiseweaponmeetitinbattle'>><<setstrength +1>><<if $mainweapon is "bow">><<setbow +3>><<elseif $mainweapon is "gun">><<setgun +3>><<elseif $mainweapon is "dagger">><<setdagger +3>><<elseif $mainweapon is "sword">><<setsword +3>><</if>><<set $clochushealth -= 15>><<if $strength lt 30>><<sethealth -30>><</if>><</link>></li><<else>><<disabled "Raise your weapon and meet it in battle.">><</if>> <<if $astral gte 20>><li><<link 'Set the thing on fire.' 'setclochusonfire'>><<set $clochushealth -= 20>><<setmagic +3>><<setastral +1>><<set $clochushealth -= 20>><</link>></li><<else>><<disabled "Set the thing on fire.">><</if>> <li><<link 'Shout for help. ' 'shoutforhelp'>><<setcunning +3>><<setcourage -1>><<if $strength lt 30>><<sethealth -20>><</if>><</link>></li> </ul>

You use your $mainweapon to attack the creature, <<print $fire2>>ing rapid-fire as you lunge forward. The creature roars, but your attacks seem like the irritating bites of insects, rather than doing any real damage. It lashes out, its body forming writhing black tentacles that whip through the air, and you <<nobr>><<if $strength gte 30>> and you dodge out of the way, rolling nimbly to your feet just out of harm's way. <<else>> try to dodge, but aren't fast enough to avoid it. You are hard across the jaw and sent into the office wall, and a heavy shelf nearly splinters over your head. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "fightclochus2">>

You raise your hand and draw on the spark of power deep inside you, setting alight the gunpowder lining your bones. You fling your will at the creature and imagine it erupting into white, dazzling flame. It shrieks as your magic sets upon it, popping and blistering its oozing skin. But then the demon rallies, expelling a cloud of pus that extinguishes your magical flames. Writhing black tentacles whip outwards, so that you barely manage to dodge it. <<include "fightclochus2">>

You open your mouth before the creature can react, screaming for Trouble, Blade, Riel—anyone. The creature's limbs come whipping towards you in response; you <<nobr>><<if $strength gte 30>> dodge and roll out of the way, escaping harm, and you see a servant appear briefly in the doorway, wide-eyed, but then they turn around and flee. <<else>> get struck fairly hard in the face, sending you flying backwards into a shelf. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "fightclochus2">>

The monster lets out some sort of screech. "<i>Turti, Turti, where is my precious vessel?</i>" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"He can\'t help you, demon!"' 'hecanthelpyoudemon2'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"How long have you been possessing him?"' 'howlongpossessinghimhavebeen'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> <<if $compassionate lt 50 or $cunning gte 25>><li><<link '"Tell me your name, and maybe I\'ll go fetch him for you."' 'tellmenamemaybefetching'>><</link>></li><</if>> </ul>

The thing gives a wet, gurgling laugh. "Help?" it echoes. "No, I am the one helping him! Before I came to him, he was weak, ineffectual… now he is powerful, exacting. Able to make good on his contacts all across your brightworld. With <i>my</i> help, he has been able to spread joy… and all the misery that comes with it. He has given the wretched animals food and pleasure, and made them all the more hungry." It eyes you greedily, all the yellow eyes along its body spinning. "And I have fed on their hunger, their sloth. And I grow all the hungrier… Brightburner." <<include "fightclochus3">>

The demon eyes you beadily. "Clochus," it says, a phlegmy, monstrous sound. "The Devourer. Prince of greed, sloth, and hunger… and oh, how I hunger for you, Brightburner." <<include "fightclochus3">>

Without warning, its limbs burst forward again to lash out at you again. You raise your $mainweapon, but mortal weapons do little against such a strong force. You spend several minutes battling it out with the Faceless Lord, though it really feels like hours. The miasma of its toxic essence seems to choke the room, and it becomes hard to breathe. Sweat pours down your face. You think someone may be banging on the study door—when did that shut?—but you can't find a pause that will give you long enough to open it. Suddenly something rings in your head: <i><b>Its eyes! Blind its eyes!</b></i> <ul class="choices"> <<if $magic gte 35 or $astral gte 30>><li><<link 'Blind the Faceless Lord using your magic.' 'blindlordfacelessmagic'>><<setmagic +1>><<setastral +1>><<set $clochushealth -= 10>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link 'Attack the Faceless Lord with your weapon, aiming for its eyes.' 'attackfacelesslordaimforeyes'>><<setstrength +1>><<if $strength gte 30>><<set $clochushealth -= 30>><<set $clochushealth -= 20>><<else>><<sethealth -20>><</if>><</link>></li> </ul>

You blast out a blistering surge of magic, powerful enough to singe eyeballs and permanently blind. The Faceless Lord screams in pained fury and thrashes full-tilt against the walls, sending books and shelves crashing down all around you. But it is blinded; its limbs lash out haphazardly, still dangerous but easier to dodge. <<include "fightclochus4">>

You leap forward, too nimbly for the demon to follow. You aim for its eyes, <<print $fire2>>ing as fast as you can manage,<<nobr>><<if $strength gte 30>> and you meet your marks cleanly; hot black acid gushes out of the demon's eyes, and it gives a pained roar of fury. <<else>> but you miss the last two as the eyes shoot away towards the sides of the creature's body. It gives a scream of fury and lashes you across the back and shoulders. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "fightclochus4">>

Then it does something you were not expecting. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "fightclochus5">><</link>></center>

<ul class="choices"> <li><<link '<i>Speak</i>... Speak the Word of Power!' 'speakspeakwordofpower'>><<set $clochusdead to true>><<set $facelesslordsdead += 1>><<set $godspeaker -= 1>><</link>></li> <<if $magic gte 45>><li><<link 'Scream out a magical incantation that will destroy it utterly.' 'screammagicalincantationwilldestroy'>><<if $clochushealth lte 50>><<set $clochusdead to true>><<set $facelesslordsdead += 1>><</if>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if ($sword gte 50 or $gun gte 50) or ($dagger gte 50 or $bow gte 50)>><<if not hasVisited("plungemawweaponcavernous")>><li><<link 'Plunge your $mainweapon2 into its cavernous maw.' 'plungemawweaponcavernous'>><<set $clochushealth -= 20>><<sethealth -30>><</link>></li><</if>><</if>> </ul>

<<nobr>><<if $clochushealth lte 50>> Your will, ever stronger, meets with the Faceless Lord's in a ferocious clash that sounds like the sun and moon colliding. It is such a momentous impact that your brain shorts out, and your vision goes white, and all the heat and cold leave your body at once, as if you have simply… dissolved. <br><br> Somewhere you hear the demon screaming, somewhere you feel its essence being purged from the world—but you don't see it. Still, when you feel the destruction of its soul, your own feels lightened… cleansed. <br><br> Then you open your eyes, see how its body has disappeared, even the ooze of Black Sun… and you know. <br><br> You have defeated the Faceless Lord for good. <br><br> <<include "otherscome">> <<else>> Your will meets with the Faceless Lord's in a ferocious clash that sounds like the sun and moon colliding. It is such a momentous impact that your brain shorts out, and your vision goes white, and all the heat and cold leave your body at once, as if you have simply… dissolved. <br><br> Somewhere you hear the demon screaming, but its essence refuses to budge, like a black spot from the world that can't ever be erased. With a rising sense of panic, you realize you aren't strong enough to destroy it entirely… but you can banish it back to Hael. <br><br> You scream the words, though what you're saying you're not sure: they could as likely be epithets and wordless cries as they could be the words to an incantation. Still, you feel it—the worldwalls giving way, the warping and bending of space and time. When you feel the demon's soul go, your own feels lightened… cleansed. There is a <i>pop</i>, small and almost comedic in nature. <br><br> Then, when you open your eyes, you see that its body has disappeared… though the ooze of Black Sun was left behind. <br><br> You sag in relief. The Faceless Lord is gone. Not forever, but for now. <br><br> You've managed to save <<if $loyal gte 50>> the city. <br><br> <<include "otherscome">> <<else>> yourself. <br><br> <<include "otherscome">> <</if>> <</if>><</nobr>>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "clochusfail2">><<set $health to 30>><<setorder -10>><<set $clochusalive to true>><<audio ":playing" fadeout>><</link>></center>

You wake, gradually, to the sounds of shouting and yelling. Trouble's concerned blue-gold eyes hover over you; you feel a sharp sting against your cheek as something slaps you, once, twice. The movement triggers some loosening in your chest, and you sit up with a desperate, wheezing gasp. "<<c she>><<nobr>><<if $she is "plural">>'re<<else>>'s<</if>><</nobr>> alive," Trouble shouts, his voice too loud and brash for your sensitive, ringing ears. "Someone get a Healer! Riel, get the Hael out of the way." As you desperately suck in air, you look around, disorientated and confused. Your throat throbs horribly. "The Faceless Lord?" you croak. Around you, you see Riel and Blade talking at the office window, which has been shattered and is splattered with a black, viscous liquid. <<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 5>> Blade stops what he's doing to walk over to you, squeezing your shoulder in a silent gesture of relief, but then he's immediately pulled away by one of the many people swarming the room again. <<elseif $blade gte 45>> Blade is looking over at you, looking worried, but you see relief on his face as he notes that you're now conscious and looking around. <</if>><</nobr>> Riel comes over, looking relieved. "<<c rank>>," he says, his voice a little tight. "Good. You're awake." You look around again. There are at least a half dozen people you don't recognize in the office, some wearing the uniform of the Vice Guard, others wearing the uniform of the Inquisitors. Outside, in the corridor, you see a pair of Inquisitors frog-marching a hysterical Turti Ushala past in shackles. "The Faceless Lord has fled," Riel informs you, reading your confused expression. "Commander Bronwyn and Vice-Commander Alder rushed in here just in time. You were already unconscious, but they attacked it, thinking you dead. The fury of their attack repelled the demon enough that it fled out the window. I alerted the other authorities, and they are trying to find it now." From the expression on his face, their chances of finding the thing are grim. "You are lucky they arrived in time. We thought you were dead." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"You mentioned that already."' 'clochusfail3'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Thank you... for saving me."' 'clochusfail3'>><<settrouble +1>><<setblade +1>><<setriel +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"It took me by surprise."' 'clochusfail3'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Riel looks grim. "We never should have sent you up here alone," he says. "I never expected that the demon could be here, right here in Turti's mansion, while he filled the house with hundreds of Haven's most powerful nobles. It's not a mistake I'll make again." He sounds apologetic, and Trouble puts a hand on your head and mumbles something. Still dazed, you say, "What about the Minister?" Riel holds up a sheaf of papers, presumably from the desk. "We have all the evidence we need," he says. "He was possessed by the Faceless Lord, who took the shape of a courtesan from the Sesz Isles. It was controlling his every move, forcing him to funnel his money into the creation of Black Sun, using his connections to further its spread through the city and—it seems—across the Continent. If we hadn't stopped it in time, the entire world might have been taken over by the drug." "But the demon is still out there," you point out. Trouble pats you on the shoulder. "That's a worry for another time," he says gently. "For now, we've got to get you to an infirmary." That's all you hear before the room spins crazily, and your vision doubles. Before you even know it, you're falling sideways… and the ground rushes up to meet you. The darkness takes you up like an old friend. <<include "infirmaryend">>

You think of cleanliness, of purity: of how the world looked when nothing had been made in it but sky and snow. You hear the rushing of clear water in your ears, the rumbling of mountains falling to leave behind blank land; the crashing of tectonic plates and the screaming of the stars. You speak the Word at the Faceless Lord, and your heart loosens when you feel its essence beginning to melt away. "No!" the demon screams. Its body trembles fiercely as it begins to be wiped away. "No! Tapyt—" That's all it has time to say before you scrub it from the universe, with nothing but the wisp of ozone and fresh mountain air left in its wake. Not even the dark ooze of Black Sun remains on the walls. You've burned it from existence in only an instant. You can hardly believe it, as you lie there gasping and trying to recover your breath. You hear running footsteps outside as Trouble, Blade, and Riel rush towards you. But you can barely tell them a coherent story, between wheezing gasps. You can only point at the corner where it used to be. The Faceless Lord is gone, and you were the one with the power to defeat it. Hopefully now the city will be free of Black Sun. <<include "otherscome">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "otherscome2">><<audio ":playing" fadeoverto 5 0>><</link>></center>

The others come momentarily, drawn and alarmed by all the noise. They find you lying on your side, gasping for breath, with the Faceless Lord utterly vanished from the room. Warm and strong hands pick you up, ensuring that you're all right: Blade and Trouble peer down at you, talking in voices you can't really understand, while Riel paces the room, busying himself with something. Shortly enough, Inquisitors arrive, and then Vice Guards. Amidst all the chaos you're able to relay your story, and, in turn, Riel produces papers from the desk proving that Turti was being controlled by the demon to fund and distribute Black Sun. That's all the Inquisitors need to hear before they cart him off in shackles, the minister wailing for his demonic master all the while. Nothing, of course, answers his pleas. Blade touches your shoulder as your head sways; it suddenly feels very hard to remain awake. "The Inquisitors are going to the factory now," he says. "Our work here is done; the demon is gone and the city is saved. Now you need to rest." That's all you hear before the room spins crazily, and your vision doubles. Before you even know it, you're falling sideways… and the ground rushes up to meet you. The darkness takes you up like an old friend. <<include "infirmaryend">>

<<nobr>><<audio ":playing" stop>><<if $clochusdead is true>><<achieve "achieve_devourer">><<notify_achievement "The Second Faceless Lord" "Destroyed Clochus, the Devourer, and freed Haven from Black Sun forever.">><</if>><</nobr>><center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "infirmaryend2">><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<achieve "achieve_partycrasher">><<notify_achievement "Party Crasher" "Infiltrated the<br> Minister's mansion and put a stop to his involvement with Black Sun.">><</nobr>>You wake up a day later, tucked into a clean bed in a quiet place. For a moment, all of the white and softness makes you think you've gone to your eternal rest… …but then you turn and look, and you see Blade's stern face and dark eyes watching you gravely from your bedside. You look around and realize that you're back in the Shepherds' infirmary. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"...I\'m going back to sleep."' 'infirmaryimgoingbacktosleep'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'m alive?"' 'infirmaryimalive'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"What happened?"' 'infirmarywhathappened'>><</link>></li> </ul>

He smiles at your response. "In a bit, if you don't mind," Blade says, inclining his head. "Do you remember what happened?" <<include "infirmaryend4">>

He smiles at your response. "Yes," Blade says, inclining his head. "Do you remember what happened?" <<include "infirmaryend4">>

Blade studies you. "You don't remember?" <<include "infirmaryend4">>

You sink back against the pillows; suddenly you notice the enormous bouquets set in vases at your bedside, the tokens pressed against your sheets. Haltingly the story comes out: you remember the sudden appearance of the "courtesan," fighting back against the demon on your last legs… Blade fills in the gaps for you. He, Riel, and Trouble are all fine, having come to you when servants rushed into the ballroom, screaming about what they saw in Turti's office. They arrested Minister Ushala and presented the damning evidence to the Sun Court: further investigation proved that he was indeed—under the influence of the demon, whom he called Clochus—responsible for distributing Black Sun and was planning to ship it throughout the Autarchy, using his powers as Minister of Trade. From there, the Faceless Lord's influence would have spread to unimaginable lengths: the Endarkened was feeding on the catatonia the drug incited in its victims, in much the same way a parasite feeds on the nutrients of its host and grows larger and stronger. "What will happen to the Minister?" you ask, drinking thirstily from the stone water jug on the table. Blade's face is impassive. "They hung his head on the Sun Court walls for the birds to pick at. The rest, they threw in a midden heap and burned." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "infirmaryend5">><</link>></center>

More details come out over time, as Trouble, Shery, Tallys, and even Riel come to visit you over the next hours. The nobles at the gala are all talking about your heroism. Inquisitors determine that the Faceless Lord likely got its tendrils into Turti either at his wedding, during the demon attack, or sometime afterward. The factory that he was funneling money into, the foundry in Ashtown that was creating Black Sun, has been dismantled and put out of commission. Black Sun is being found and eradicated in all corners of the city, now that the Inquisitors are aware it's connected to an Endarkened entity. Clinics for its victims are being opened, though privately Riel's outlook on those are bleak. <<nobr>><<if $clochusalive is true>> <br><br> There is still no trace of Clochus, but Riel says that, now that you know what to look for, you don't expect the demon to be resurfacing anytime soon. Not until it can concoct some other scheme, take control of some other vessel. <</if>><</nobr>> "Oh, and I will be forming a working relationship with the Order of the Shepherds from now on," the merchant leader informs you contentedly, sipping tea over his crossed knee at your bedside. "Call it charitable work, of sorts. Seeing your heroism and the importance of your investigations convinces me of your vital role in keeping this city alive and thriving. Haven needs you, and for that, I would like to lend you my aid. The Merchants Guild will operate as the Shepherds' sponsor and supplier from now on. Anything you need, I can find. Equipment, armor, weapons, contracts with other merchants—I will be taking care of these from now on." You smile at him from your infirmary bed. "And what of the danger?" you ask. "Won't it look bad for your reputation, for the Merchants Guild to ally themselves with Diminished?" Riel picks an invisible speck of dirt off of his pant leg, feigning indifference. "What good is my power if I must be controlled and restrained by the opinions of others?" he sniffs. "And compared to the idea of a Faceless Lord, the Eberts and even Autarchs of the world seem… insignificant." He gives you a secret smile. "But that will have to remain between us for now." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "infirmaryend6">><<if $clochusalive is true>><<setreputation +5>><<else>><<setreputation +10>><</if>><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<if $clochusalive is false>>No one really asks you how you defeated the Faceless Lord Clochus, the Devourer: it's clear the physical toll the act has taken on you, though you're recovering quickly by the day. All the others do is sing your praises to anyone who will listen, and for a while, you're told that's all to be heard in the streets: stories of the Minister's grand ball being crashed by a Faceless Lord, and tales of the lone Shepherd who faced the grotesque demon down and brought it to its knees. <<else>> No one really asks you how the battle with Clochus the Devourer went: it's clear the physical toll the act has taken on you, though you're recovering quickly by the day. If they're disappointed that you let the demon escape, they don't express it: in fact, you're surprised to hear tales of your valor and heroism being spread through the streets instead. Either the rumor mill doesn't know the full story, or just the <i>willingness</i> to investigate and fight alone is enough to impress the public.<</if>><</nobr>> Even Chase Trinaeste comes to visit you, slinking casually into the infirmary as if he lives there. "So," he says, twirling a chair backwards and plopping down into it. "Didn't know I'd pickpocketed a living legend." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Yup, that\'s me... the Hero of Haven."' 'yupthatsmeheroofhaven'>><<setreputation +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I don\'t have anything else to steal, if that\'s why you\'re here."' 'idonthaveanythingelsetostealifthatswhy'>><<if $charisma gte 25>><<setchase +1>><<setcunning +1>><<setcharisma +1>><<else>><<setchase -1>><<setloyal -1>><<setcompassionate -1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'m not a legend. I was just doing my job."' 'imnotalegendiwasjustdoingjob'>><<setloyal +4>><<setcompassionate +2>><</link>></li> </ul>

Chase laughs. "Glad to see the glory isn't getting to your head, sunshine." <<include "infirmaryend7">>

Chase laughs, the sound genuine and warm. "Didn't come for that this time," he notes humorously. "Just wanted to see how you were doing." <<include "infirmaryend7">>

Chase blows out his cheeks. "C'mon, you crash a Sun Courtier's birthday party, <<nobr>><<if $clochusalive is false>>kick the shit out of the demon possessing him,<<else>> survive an encounter with the demon possessing him,<</if>><</nobr>> save the lives of everyone there, and put an end to a nefarious drug-slash-said-demon's-spawn—I think you can afford to give yourself a little credit, sunshine." <<include "infirmaryend7">>

For a moment the two of you study each other in silence. Then Chase props his chin up in one hand and says, more thoughtfully: "You know, I had the oddest feeling when you walked out of the hideout that last time. Almost like… regret? I felt like you were going to do something big, and like I was going to miss out on it. And look: I was right! I can't <i>believe</i> you'd go to a Minister's mansion without me. Do you know how much stuff I could have nicked?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Roll your eyes. "Oh, I\'m <i>so</i> sorry I wasn\'t thinking of that." <b>[SARCASM]</b>' 'rolleyessorrythinking'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Tilt your head. "You felt regret?"' 'tiltheadregret'>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <<if $charisma gte 25>><li><<link 'Smirk. "You had \'the oddest feeling\' when you watched me walk out?" <b>[INNUENDO]</b> ' 'smirkoddestfeeling'>><<setchase +1>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li><</if>> </ul>

He grins. "Apology accepted." Then he meets your eye and says more seriously, "To tell you the truth, I don't really want to feel anything like that again." <<include "infirmaryend8">>

Chase smiles, but his eyes shift away from you; his shoulders are relaxed, but his hands seem… nervous. "Well, I dunno <i>exactly</i> how to put it," he says, scratching the back of his head. "But yeah… like if I didn't go with you, I was going to be missing out on the fun?" He meets your eye and says more seriously, "To tell you the truth, I don't really want to feel that again." <<include "infirmaryend8">>

Chase cracks a rueful grin. "If you're making a dirty joke about me looking at your backside while you walked away, I'm not going to comment," he quips back. "No, this was different. More like… if I didn't go with you, I was going to be missing out on the fun?" Then he meets your eye and says more seriously, "To tell you the truth, I don't really want to feel anything like that again." <<include "infirmaryend8">>

You tilt your head. Where is he going with this? Chase takes out something from his belt and begins to play with it unconsciously: one of his knives, a slim silver switchblade. But it's an idle movement, you note, not a threatening one. "Look," he says finally. "I find myself liking you, and I like what you guys do here. Contrary to popular opinion, we thieves do care about things other than grifting people and taking their kak. We care about doing good stuff too, at least every once in a while—a city destroyed and overrun by demons is something we want to prevent. In general, I mean, we want the city safe. I hope we proved that by getting involved with Black Sun…" He looks rueful. "…despite how ineffective we were in handling it. But maybe that's the point: teamed up with the right people, we could be… not ineffective." <ul class="choices"> <<if $intelligence gte 20>><li><<link '"Are you saying... you want to join the Shepherds?"' 'sayingyouwantjoinshepherds'>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link '"I\'m not following."' 'imnotfollowingchase'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Chase coughs. "I guess," he says. "Or more like—I'm willing to offer my services. To you. When it will help you find demons and the like. Free of charge, of course." He says it like he's having teeth pulled. <<include "infirmaryend9">>

Chase rolls his eyes. "I'm willing to offer my services. To you. And the Order. When it will help you find demons and the like. Free of charge, of course." He says it like he's having teeth pulled. <<include "infirmaryend9">>

"Consider it my act of charity of the century. Hopefully it makes up for all the candy I've stolen from babies." This last part seems to be a joke, but the rest of it might be serious: it looks like Chase is actually offering to ally the Thieves Guild with the Shepherds' Order. <<include "chasejoinriel2">>

Chase huffs in a half-amused, half-exasperated way; the action sends the scent of his jacket, smoke and amber, rolling towards you. "I thought we'd been over this," he says. "Sure, we're not <i>official and sanctioned</i> like Merchants Guild, nor are we strictly legal, but as far as those who matter are concerned, we're a guild. A powerful one, at that. And we'll keep things on the down-low: your big bad bosses won't have to find out about it, and Thieves Guild's rivals don't, either. We can be very discreet when we want to be, as I'm sure you know. We've done jobs for clients you'd never believe, and who you'll never hear of. We know how to keep our business buttoned up tight." Then he winks at you. "But, hey, even if a rumor or two <i>were</i> to reach the common working folk... that wouldn't be so bad, would it? The idea of Thieves Guild and the Shepherds' Order working hand-in-hand could show that we're looking out for the little guys, the downtrodden who can't protect themselves… like the Black Sun victims. We're one of them, and we're looking out for them. Maybe it'll help prove all around that we—thieves or Diminished—aren't so bad, after all?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"You know that means you\'ll have to work with Riel, right?"' 'youknowyoullworkwithriel'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Uh, I don\'t know about that..."' 'uhchaseidontknowaboutthat'>><</link>></li> </ul>

He hangs his head and groans. "Ugh, don't remind me. I guess I can stomach it…" He lifts his head then and flashes a distinctly-rogueish grin at you. "…for the greater good." <<include "chasejoinriel2">>

Chase smiles, half to himself. "Yeah, I'm probably being crazy. But just trust me." <<include "chasejoinriel2">>

"We don't need anything stolen," you tell him. Chase snorts. "You know what's more valuable than money?" he asks. He leans closer to you and taps the side of his nose. "Secrets. Information. We've got guild branches all across the Continent—and we <i>know</i> shit. Shit the Vice Guard doesn't, shit even the Autarchy doesn't. We'd be like… your scouts, your reconnaissance. Your eyes and ears in the streets. Black Sun would have been tagged as a problem much faster if we'd been working together from the get-go. It'd work the same way with other things in the future: tracking down problems in the underworld before they ever became problems in the public one." He taps his chin thoughtfully, seemingly warming to the idea. "We could be your spies. I'd be your new spymaster!" Then he pauses and winks at you. "And, of course, in case you do ever need someone to break into a rogue Mage's mansion, or steal a cursed artifact back from someone who shouldn't have it… we're handy in those situations, too." <<include "chasejoinriel2">>

Chase waves a hand. "I already talked to Spike," he says, presumably referring to Blade. "Who didn't exactly say <i>yes</i>, but he didn't threaten to kill me, so I figure he's open to it. Trubs has got my back with this one. I'll win the rest over with my dashing good looks and charm soon enough." He cocks a bright glance your way. "I just wanted to hear your thoughts on it first. You are, after all, the biggest and brightest star in my sky." He tosses an impish look towards your sun medallion. "We have a special connection." <<include "chasejoinriel2">>

<<set $chasejoin to true>>You study Chase, sitting blithely in his chair but watching you just as keenly. He <i>seems</i> sincere… and you can't deny how useful such an alliance would be to the Shepherds. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Welcome aboard, my friend."' 'welcomeaboardmyfriend'>><<setchase +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'If this is some sort of trick, I\'m going to kill you."' 'ifthisissometrickimgoingtokill'>><<setchase -3>><<setcompassionate -2>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"If the others are all right with it, I\'m all right with it."' 'iftheothersareallrightimallright'>><<setloyal +3>><</link>></li> </ul>

Chase's eyes light up, and he springs to his feet and pumps your hand enthusiastically. "Thanks, sunshine," he tells you warmly, already looking alight with excitement and new ideas. "I appreciate the show of faith. And, trust me… you are not going to regret this." <<include "chasejoin2a">>

"If you put one toe out of line," you warn him, "loot our things, hurt our prospects… I will personally kill you." Chase laughs and holds up his hands. "I admire the skepticism," he says. "But even I know better than to cross somebody <<if $clochusalive is false>>who just sent a demon-god back to Hael, crying to his mama.<<else>> who just went toe-to-toe with a demon-god.<</if>> Trust me, <<c firstname>>—you are not going to regret this." <<include "chasejoin2a">>

Chase nods. "A predictably neutral response," he notes. "But I'll take it." He springs to his feet and shakes your hand. "Thanks, <<c firstname>>. And trust me—you're not going to regret this." <<include "chasejoin2a">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "chasejoin2b">><<set $army += 20>><</link>></center>

And just like that, both the Merchants Guild and the Thieves Guild, the two most powerful organizations in Haven, have aligned themselves with the Shepherds. With the Inquisitors and Vice Guards still standing in your way, the odds feel a little bit more even… and with Black Sun and the Faceless Lord Clochus gone from the city, the world feels just a little more balanced. A little more free. For now, you can rest. <i>Give it time</i>, a voice that is you-but-not-you whispers in the back of your mind. This is just the beginning. The field is beginning to level itself out. <<page_break "End Chapter" "endchapter2">>

Trouble nods. "I'm with <<c firstname>>. Seems easier to look into a physical location with supplies of Black Sun rather than rumors about some guy in the government. Let's start at the factory." <<nobr>><<if $followedriel is true>> So you turn right back around and head back into the Thieves Guild, where Chase smiles at you like he expected you to come back through the door all along. When you tell him you'd like to go with him to investigate the factory, he laughs. <br><br> "Can't say we work all that often with law enforcement," he jokes, "but I do like your gumption. And I also can't say we won't need all the help we can get." He shakes your hand. "Welcome aboard, Shepherds." <<elseif $followedchase is true>> So you head back to Chase and bring him up to speed on Riel told you, informing him you'd like to investigate this Black Sun factory in Ashtown. <br><br> "And we'd figured it might be something we do together," Trouble finishes, cracking his knuckles loudly. "Seeing as you've spent all this time trying to put a stop to the stuff, anyway. Might as well try and work together on it." <br><br> Chase laughs. "Can't say we work all that often with law enforcement," he jokes, "but I do like your gumption. And I also can't say we won't need all the help we can get." He steps forward to shake your hands. "Welcome aboard, Shepherds." <</if>><</nobr>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "chaseprepraid2">><</link>></center>

You spend some time preparing with Chase's thieves for the raid on the factory, which is allegedly some kind of foundry where metal castings were originally poured and forged. Chase's spies return and report that they haven't seen anyone coming in or out of the place, but that the property itself seems to belong to some impoverished Norm lord: someone of noble birth who lost his lands and fortunes to his own gambling addiction. But no one knows if the factory is still his, or if he sold it off: he seems to have disappeared to Karzai some time ago. "Karzai?" Chase echoes musingly. "That's a place of some sinister magic, no? That's where a lot of arcane contraband comes from. They brew some wicked stuff up there." He shoots you a look and a grin. "That's a free tip for you Shepherds, in case you didn't know. Karzai equals bad. I'll have to start charging you soon for my wisdoms." "We already knew that," Trouble begins, before Blade says over both of them, irritably: "It's good intelligence, but we need more to prove a Black Sun connection. What's the plan?" Chase's eyebrows raise. "Is there really a point in making one? We don't know how many people are in there… what's going on or where the drug is, if it's there at all… or the layout of the place. What's there to plan?" Blade stares at him. "Do you not plan things?" he asks. Although his voice is flat and perfectly serious, you can tell he's appalled from the slow, deliberate way he's talking. "How did you plan that raid on the merchants? Or whatever heists you perform?" Chase taps the side of his nose and winks. "Trade secret. I don't." Then he looks up at the ceiling as if there's something very interesting there. "I kinda just… go by my gut, you know?" Blade gives you a look, as if to say, <i>We're all going to die</i>. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "chaseprepraid3">><</link>></center>

At the tail-end of your preparations, you find yourself approached by Chase's lieutenant, the slender dark-haired woman. "Ari," she says, leaning against a pile of crates and folding her arms as she stares at you. "Ariella Caffreal, for short. Didn't catch your name." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I\'m <<c firstname>>. Pleased to meet you."' 'arinodsslowly'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Name\'s <<c surname>>."' 'arinodsslowly'>><<setcompassionate -2>><<setloyal -2>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"<<c rank>> <<c firstname>> <<c surname>>, to you."' 'rankfirstnamesurname'>><<setcompassionate -5>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Stay silent. She doesn\'t need to know your name.' 'staysilentdoesntneedname'>><<setcharisma -3>><<setloyal -3>><</link>></li> </ul>

Ari nods slowly, digesting this information. <<include "chaseprepraid4">>

Ari raises her hands sarcastically. "Pleased to meet you, highness," she drawls. <<include "chaseprepraid4">>

Ari sniffs, offended. <<include "chaseprepraid4">>

Then she pops her hip out, still staring at you. "Why you Shepherds working with us? Aren't we on opposite sides?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Not in this case. We\'re all against Black Sun, so it makes sense we should work together."' 'chaseprepraid5'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"We\'re more concerned with the Endarkened than we are with petty theft."' 'chaseprepraid5'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Yes, but in this case we\'re stronger together than apart."' 'chaseprepraid5'>><</link>></li> </ul>

She grunts. <<nobr>><<if $chase gte 42>> "Chase," she says after a moment. "He likes you. He takes a liking to lots of people, lots of things. He thinks they're, you know, shiny. Like a pretty object you just have to get your hands on, look at. But he gets bored fast. Makes him an active thief, not so much a reliable friend." She stares at you pointedly. <<if $aroace is false and $aro is false and $ace is false>> "Or a lover." <</if>> <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Stare at her. "Why are you telling me this?"' 'stareatherwhytellingme'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'m not here to be friends with him."' 'imnotheretobefriendswithhim'>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setchase -3>><<setloyal -3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I think you have the wrong idea..."' 'ithinkyouhavewrongidea'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"What, are you jealous, or something?"' 'whatareyoujealousorsomething'>><<setcourage +1>><<setcharisma -3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I don\'t mind that. I\'m a bit of the same way myself."' 'idontmindthatbitofsameway'>><<setchase +1>><<setloyal -2>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'ll take that as a challenge."' 'illtakethataschallenge'>><<setchase +1>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> </ul> <<else>> "Chase trusts you, I guess," she says finally. "Suppose that'll have to be enough—though his gut's been wrong before." <br><br> <<include "chaseprepraid6">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Ari lifts her shoulder in a light shrug. "Giving you fair warning," she says. "I don't want the Shepherds to come down hard on us if one of their <<print $rank.toLowerCase()>>s feels jilted by our leader." <<include "chaseprepraid6">>

Ari lifts her shoulder in a light shrug. "Whatever you say." <<include "chaseprepraid6">>

She snorts. "No," she answers with sincere scorn. "We're not like that—he's like a brother to me. I'm just giving you fair warning. I don't want the Shepherds to come down hard on us if one of their <<print $rank.toLowerCase()>>s feels jilted by our leader." <<include "chaseprepraid6">>

Ari lifts her shoulder in a shrug. "Whatever you say." <<include "chaseprepraid6">>

Ari shakes her head. "Heard that before," she mutters. <<include "chaseprepraid6">>

Silence falls for a moment. <<include "chaseariconvo">>

<ul class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("isheagoodleader")>><<chat '"Is he a good leader?"' 'isheagoodleader'>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("waschasealwaysathief")>><<chat '"Was Chase always a thief?"' 'waschasealwaysathief'>><</if>> <<if $noticegraffiti is true>><<if not hasVisited("inoticedstrangesymboloutside")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"I noticed a strange symbol outside..."</div>' 'inoticedstrangesymboloutside'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>><</if>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("howdidcometojointhievesguild")>><<chat '"How did you come to join Thieves Guild?"' 'howdidcometojointhievesguild'>><</if>> <<if hasVisited("howdidcometojointhievesguild") and not hasVisited("whathappenedtoariatthirteen")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">Press her. "What happened when you were thirteen?" </div>' 'whathappenedtoariatthirteen'>><<setintelligence +1>><<setcharisma -1>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("doyouregretlifeofcrimechoice")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"Do you ever regret choosing a life of crime?"</div>' 'doyouregretlifeofcrimechoice'>><<setcharisma -1>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("whatdoyoudohereari")>><<chat '"What is it you do here?"' 'whatdoyoudohereari'>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("areyouworriedcaptivecomrade")>><<chat '"Are you worried about your comrade who got taken captive?"' 'areyouworriedcaptivecomrade'>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("whatdothinkblacksunbusiness")>><<chat '"What do you think about all this Black Sun business?"' 'whatdothinkblacksunbusiness'>><</if>> <li><<link 'You can\'t think of anything else to say. ' 'chaseraidbegin'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Ari doesn't bat an eye. "The best," she answers promptly. "He may act like a fool, but he looks after each and every one of us like we're his family. He don't make us do any job he wouldn't do himself. He protects us against the Vice Guard, other thieves. He's clever, cunning, and ruthless, even if he don't act like it. He's way better than…" Quite suddenly she trails off. "…our old leader." But on that topic, she says nothing more. <<include "chaseariconvo">>

Ari shakes her head. "Nah," she says, looking wary. "When he got picked up, he was… something else. But that's not for me to talk about." <<include "chaseariconvo">>

You explain the graffiti in gold paint that you've noticed cropping up all over the city. Ari snorts. "That? That's part of our secret language. Anyone who's in Thieves Guild can read it. Some symbols mean this is a safe place; some say this is a good spot for a stakeout; some mean this house is full of good things, but there are this number of guards, or dogs, or whatever…" She pauses. "Chase invented it." <<include "chaseariconvo">>

Ari pauses. "I was always stealing," she says slowly, "ever since I was young. My… the woman who gave birth to me and I were poor. I didn't see anything wrong with it, stealing; it was just how we survived. I'd pickpocket people, sometimes even sweet-talk them into giving me things. It worked better when I was a kid, but when I was thirteen…" She trails off significantly. "Something happened, and after that, I struck off on my own. Worked as a con artist in different cities, traveling around. I was good at it, too. But one day a job went wrong and I got cornered—and not even sweet-talking or my knife could help me then. That's when Chase showed up. He'd been looking for me; he'd heard there was a good con artist in Haven and he got curious, like he always does." She smiles slightly. "He saved my life, so I've been with the group ever since." <<include "chaseariconvo">>

<<if $charisma gte 30>>Ari's eyes tighten, but she doesn't avert her gaze from yours. "The woman who birthed me sold me into a brothel," she says in a hard, jagged voice. "I don't even know why. I get the feeling she was an addict—not of Black Sun, something else—but really, who gives a shit what her reason was?" She shrugs one shoulder and looks away. "Did what I had to do to get out of there. Then Chase found me, and I've been with Thieves Guild ever since. Can't see myself ever leaving it, either." <<else>>Ari's eyes tighten. "Sorry," she drawls. "You've already got more than I tell most strangers. Try another question." <</if>> <<include "chaseariconvo">>

"No," Ari says bluntly. "I don't see anything wrong with it. Besides, the people we steal from? The 'crats and the Autarchy officials? How do you think they made their gold, their power? You think they did it fair and square? No. They committed crimes way worse than us. Only they're the ones who make the laws, so they're not going to call <i>themselves</i> criminals. Still, I don't feel a crumb of remorse taking from the likes of them. I know what they're capable of, and I bet you do, too." <<include "chaseariconvo">>

"I run cons," Ari says easily. "Counterfeit art, grifts to take some money from willing 'ristos. Kato over there runs pickpocketing, and Chase usually takes care of the big, difficult heists. Kato and I also help him with whatever he needs… even if he doesn't always know it." <<include "chaseariconvo">>

"Nah," Ari says. "Chase'll spring her out, soon enough. We ain't ever lost a thief to the gallows, not since he's been in charge. He takes care of his people, Chase." <<include "chaseariconvo">>

"Not a fan," Ari says blithely. "Everyone's wasting all their money on the drug, so there isn't any for us to steal. I don't like that." <<include "chaseariconvo">>

Chase waltzes over, then. "You lot gossiping about me?" he asks, slinging an arm over Ari's shoulders. "Swapping tales of my dashing good looks and charming demeanor?" She shrugs him off, annoyed. "More like talking about what an idiot you are." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Ari here was just sharing some very interesting stories about you."' 'arisharingstories'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"<i>I</i> was talking about your good looks and charm."' 'italkgoodlookscharm'>><<setchase +1>><<setcharisma +1>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 2>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Just discussing the mission."' 'justdiscussingmission'>><<setloyal +2>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Yeah, it\'s pretty clear you\'re dumb."' 'yeahitsprettyclearyouredumb'>><</link>></li> </ul>

"Oh?" Chase turns his head to look at Ari, who rolls her eyes. "Were you discussing the time I robbed that foreign queen? Or perhaps my swashbuckling exploits across the three seas—or perhaps my affair with that countess and her husband—" "<i>Like I said</i>," she grits out, "we were just talking about what a fool you are." <<include "chaseraidbegin2">>

"They are oft the subject of much spirited discussion," Chase says cheerfully, as Ari spears you with an unimpressed look. "What things were you saying specifically?" <<include "chaseraidbegin2">>

Chase hums. "So business-like," he says. "Are all you Shepherds so buttoned-up?" <<include "chaseraidbegin2">>

Chase makes a content humming sound. "Then there must not be that much to discuss, right?" <<include "chaseraidbegin2">>

Blade materializes behind him then, making everyone<<nobr>><<if $courage gte 30>> but you and Chase jump. <<else>> but Chase jump. <</if>><</nobr>> "It's time to go," he says. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>To the Factory</span></div></div>' "factoryraid">><</link>></center>

From a distance, it's difficult to tell whether the foundry is in full operation or all but abandoned. Smoke rises from the open chimneys near the center of the building, but after two hours of observation, no one comes or leaves the complex. As night begins to fall, the furnaces continue to fire, but still no one comes. "Strange," Chase comments from behind the broken wall where you've set up your reconnaissance. "You think it's a foundry run by ghosts?" Blade waves him into silence, looking down at the place with the same sharp and impenetrable stare he's had since first arriving. With dusk falling, you can see that his dark eyes have seemed to turn silver and chatoyant in the gloom. He's channeling arma to his eyes, making them hyper-keen and capable of piercing the dark—or of predicting movement and patterns so acutely that he almost seems able to foresee the future,reacting to where his opponent will be (or not be) almost before they've begun to move themselves. <<nobr>><<if $heritage is "Ket">>Folks in your village called it the <i>vesathat</i>, the mirror-eye. Only skilled, elite soldiers of the Khehi caste are able to use it.<</if>><</nobr>> Finally he says, "There are wagons lined up outside, as if preparing for a large delivery. We're going to have to make our move soon." You wait for a few minutes more to make sure the coast is clear, lingering behind the fragmented stone wall on the hill above the factory. Chase, sitting back on his heels, glances at you and whispers, "What?" You stare back at him. "What?" "You're curious about me," Chase says. "I can tell. Ask what you want to ask; I won't bite." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"How did someone like you end up in charge of Thieves Guild?"' 'howdidsomeonelikeyouchargethievesguild'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'m just reconciling the idea that thieves like you would care about the wellbeing of Haven. It challenges a lot of ideas I once had."' 'imjustreconcilingideaofthives'>><<setchase +1>><</link>></li> <<if ($courage gte 25 and $charisma gte 20) or $chaseromanceflag gte 3>><li><<link '"How is someone like you single?"' 'howissomeonelikechasesingle'>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>><<setchase +1>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link '"I\'m not curious about you at all."' 'imnotcuriousaboutyouatall'>><<setchase -1>><<setloyal -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

"Someone like me?" Chase quips. "What do you mean, like… clever? Dashing?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Sure, fine."' 'howdidsomeonelikeyouchargethievesguild2'>><<setchase +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Of course."' 'howdidsomeonelikeyouchargethievesguild2'>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>><<setchase +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"More like... silly... carefree..."' 'howdidsomeonelikeyouchargethievesguild2'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"The exact opposite, really."' 'howdidsomeonelikeyouchargethievesguild2'>><</link>></li> </ul>

"Well," Chase says, scratching his nose, "generally, you only take over for a Thieves Guild leader when they die—either naturally, or if you kill them yourself." He pauses. "I'll leave it to you to guess what I did." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Come on, that\'s cruel."' 'comeonthatscruel'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You killed the old leader, obviously."' 'youkilledoldleaderobvi'>><<setchase -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You didn\'t kill the old leader."' 'youdidntkilloldleader'>><<setchase +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

A dimple appears on the right side of his cheek; he looks positively impish. "Sorry, sunshine. I've got to maintain my mystique to keep you interested." <<include "factoryraid2">>

Chase doesn't bat an eye; just keeps giving you a catlike smile. He shrugs. <<include "factoryraid2">>

Chase doesn't bat an eye; just keeps giving you a catlike smile. "You're pretty clever, sunshine," he says brightly. "I'll have to keep an eye on you." <<include "factoryraid2">>

He cocks his head. "Oh, yeah? What, about criminals being morally-depraved, selfish thugs, or thieves wanting to incite lawlessness and chaos?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"...Maybe."' 'imjustreconcilingideaofthives2'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Yes, actually."' 'imjustreconcilingideaofthives2'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"On second thought, never mind."' 'imjustreconcilingideaofthives2'>><</link>></li> </ul>

He laughs slightly. "Well, stick around, sunshine," he says. "I think we'll keep surprising you." <<include "factoryraid2">>

He laughs, a sound of genuine surprise. "Of my own volition, of course," he answers merrily. "I'm a free spirit, sunshine, a wandering soul… a rolling stone that gathers no moss, et cetera. Relationships of that kind just hold me back." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Even if it\'s with the right person?"' 'evenifitsrightperson'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"That seems like a lonely way of living."' 'thatseemslikelonelywayliving'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"What about friendships, at least?"' 'whataboutfriendshipsatleast'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'m the same way, actually. Or was."' 'imthesamewayactuallyorwas'>><<setchase +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I have the exact same philosophy."' 'ihaveexactsamephilosophy'>><<setchase +3>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Chase smiles slightly, but the expression is stiff and ill-fitting, like a suit that doesn't really belong to him. "Don't think anyone like that exists, sunshine," he says lightly. "At least, not in my world. Not for me. And I'm keen to keep it that way." <<include "factoryraid2">>

For the briefest second, Chase's smile doesn't drop, but something flickers in his eyes: maybe something like regret, or pain. Then he says breezily: "Sometimes. It's a cowardly way of living, I'll admit. But I prefer it over the alternative." <<include "factoryraid2">>

"Oh, friends are fine," Chase says breezily. "But the nice thing about a friend is that their whole world doesn't revolve around you. You can pick up, leave town for a few months… and when you come back, the friendship's the same as it's been: you can just pick things up again like old times. Can't do that with a lover or a sweetheart. You've got an <i>obligation</i> to them, you see." "A commitment?" you hazard. He sneezes. "Careful. I'm allergic to that word." <<include "factoryraid2">>

Chase cocks his head. "Cut from the same cloth, are we?" He grins. "I knew I sensed a kindred spirit in you." <<include "factoryraid2">>

He shrugs easily. "Suit yourself." <<include "factoryraid2">>

Finally, Blade gives the signal that it's time to move, and Chase turns and begins dispensing orders to his thieves: ten dark-clothed members who are crouching, lithe and silent, in the gloom like a row of black cats. "Kato, Ari, you take Jesper and Wyman and go through the east wing. Kaz, Honey, you take the south. The rest of you, you know what to do." He turns to you, Blade, and Trouble. "I'm going with the three of you—you Shepherds have got keen noses for demons, right? So you'll be where the action is, no doubt." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Just... behave, please."' 'justnbehavepleasechase'>><<setchase -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Glad to have you along."' 'gladtohaveyoualongchase'>><<setchase +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Heavens preserve us."' 'heavenpreserveus'>><<setblade +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Are you any good in a fight?"' 'areyouanygoodinafightchase'>><</link>></li> </ul>

He looks wounded. "Me, behave? I shall be the picture of professionalism." "Oh, God," Blade mutters as Trouble snickers. <<include "factoryraid3">>

He beams. <<include "factoryraid3">>

Blade makes a noise like he agrees. <<include "factoryraid3">>

Chase stares at you. Then he grins, and the look is fierce and a little unsettling. "Darling, you have no idea." <<include "factoryraid3">>

<<nobr>><<if settings.music is true>><<audio "sneak" volume 0 fadeoverto 15 0.1>><<timed 15s>><<audio "sneak" fadeoverto 100 0>><</timed>><</if>><</nobr>>You split up from the other thieves, all of you silently swarming the foundry and scaling its tall walls before Chase's people scatter in all directions. Within moments, your group—-which Chase refers to as "the tip of the spear"—slips in through the building's north entrance, creeping carefully through the warm, thrumming halls with your weapons drawn. There's still no sign of life here, though the corridors glow orange from the guttering torchlights lining the walls and you pass rooms with their furnaces still lit. It's a wholly-eerie effect, as if an army of workers had been here, just moments before, and then vanished in an instant, leaving their belongings still scattered around. The whole place is as dry and hot as the fires of Hael: you feel sweat trickling down your back, insect-like, and stinging your eyes. As you step towards what you think is the main factory floor, quite suddenly something rings in your head like a gong. <b><i>Danger, </i></b> a voice blares, as strongly and strangely as a hundred unearthly trumpets—or a chorus of many voices speaking in tandem. <<nobr>><br><br><<if $confrontequalists is true>> It's the same voice that spoke to you just before you fought Blaphemel… <</if>><</nobr>> You put a hand to your suddenly-ringing temple. <i>Danger? Danger where?</i> But already, like oil slipping through cracks in the pavement… the voice is abruptly gone. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'What in the world?...' 'factoryraid4'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Uh-oh...' 'factoryraid4'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Not again...' 'factoryraid4'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '...' 'factoryraid4'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Chase catches ahold of your elbow, his grip slim and strong. "Hold a moment," he says softly, peering into your face. "What's wrong?" You don't even bother asking him how he knows something's wrong. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Just a headache..."' 'justaheadachechase'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Oh, nothing. Just a voice in my head telling me that there\'s danger ahead."' 'ohnothingjustvoiceinheadtellingdanger'>><<setchase +1>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Pull away. "It\'s none of your concern."' 'pullawayitsnoneofyourconcern'>><<setchase -10>><<set $chaseromanceflag to 0>><</link>></li> </ul>

Chase studies you for a moment, his face suddenly unreadable; but you get the distinct feeling that he doesn't believe you. "Right," he says quietly. "Well, when we get out of here, I'll get you a special brew; I know a guy. Until then, hang in there." He gives you a friendly pat on the back before you move on. <<include "factoryraid5">>

Chase studies you for a moment, suddenly serious, and you get the distinct feeling that, for all his nonchalance and joking, nothing really slips past him. Not even your sarcasm. "Right," he says after a moment, smiling crookedly. "Well, I could have told you that. Tell that voice to get to saying something useful, or I'll replace it." You crack a smile. "I wish." He gives you a reassuring pat on the back before you move on. <<include "factoryraid5">>

"Ah," Chase says, releasing you. "As you say." His face is now unreadable. <<include "factoryraid5">>

Soon enough, you reach the main floor of the factory, where enormous assembly lines have been built and are chugging away on their own. It's clear from the piles dumped on the ground and the abandoned machinery here and there that this foundry was once devoted to making metal castings, probably for bullets or maybe even explosives. Now it's dedicated to… making something else. Chase tries to peer at the little tins being poured, molded, and stamped on the moving belts high above your head, but they're placed too tall for him to see properly. "Think that's Black Sun?" he asks, his voice barely audible over the roaring of the great forges. "Certainly smells like it. Try not to breathe the fumes in." He glances around the factory floor. "But where's the source material coming from?" Then he points. "There." You look. There's a kind of opening or vent set high into the west wall, nearly at the height of the ceiling. Out of this opening comes molten heaps and slags of a black substance, which are then transported along a moving belt into a large vat in the center of the room. The material in this vat is then cooked and vomited up into the foundries and forges, which perform other complicated processes to prepare it before being hustled along on the belts you see above you. "That must be where the Black Sun is coming from," Blade says softly. "We need to find a way to get up to wherever that vent leads." Chase shakes his head. "Can't get in through the vent itself. It's too small, and anyway the belt will just get in the way." "We'll have to explore the west side of the factory." Trouble is looking around at all of the automated machinery with wonder. "How's this all moving on its own?" he asks, voice hushed. "These can't really be ghosts, can they?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Reach out with your magic and investigate.' 'reachoutwithmagicandinvestigate'>><<if $specialization is "binder" or $arcane gte 22>><<setmagic +1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Shrug. You\'re not really interested in how machines and factories work.' 'factoryraid6'>><<setintelligence -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Worry about that later. There\'s a Faceless Lord to catch.' 'factoryraid6'>><<setloyal +1>><<setcourage +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

<<nobr>><<if $specialization is "binder" or $arcane gte 22>> You concentrate for a moment, feeling around with tendrils of your magic. Then, with a shock, you realize that there <i>are</i> ghosts in the machines—or, rather, spirits, similar to the kind that are bound to magical suits of armor or statues. <br><br> "The machines are all being animated by spirits," you tell the others, concentrating. "They're like beings of energy, conglomerations of emotion. They've been summoned here, magically-bound to do this work, because… because the human workers were pretty much all dismissed." <br><br> "Are they… friendly?" Blade asks cautiously. <br><br> "If spirits in general are angry, they can cause some harm," you note. "In cases of animation, they can move whatever they're inhabiting, so a cauldron might tip on you, or a belt might try and strangle you. But these ones seem fairly harmless. They're more… terrified, than anything." <br><br> "Terrified of what?" Trouble asks, wary. <br><br> You pause, feeling around for an answer. "Whatever it is, they can't give it a name." <br><br> <<include "factoryraid6">> <<else>> You concentrate, but you can't really discern anything in the confusing tangle of energy around you. You shrug. <br><br> <<include "factoryraid6">> <</if>><</nobr>>

"Down there," Chase whispers then, indicating a small service door leading to the west part of the factory. Blade nods curtly and moves forward, hand on his sword; you follow him down some more labyrinthine corridors, more winding and twisting hallways, all snaking around each other like you're moving through some enormous creature's heaving intestines. Unnervingly, you don't encounter any of the other thieves… but you tell yourself the factory must be so large that they're busy exploring other parts of it. Suddenly you hear a rustling movement behind you and turn to see Trouble and Chase hustling to catch up to you, grinning and nudging each other. You stare at them suspiciously. "Where were you?" "Setting up some explosives," Chase answers conspiratorially. "In case we decide we want to eliminate Black Sun for good. Blow it sky-high, so to speak." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"You did <i>what</i>?"' 'factoryraid7'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You\'re going to blow <i>us</i> sky-high!"' 'factoryraid7'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You couldn\'t have waited to plant those until after we got out of here?"' 'factoryraid7'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Oh, good idea. Get rid of the drug once and for all."' 'goodideagetridofdrug'>><<setcourage +1>><<settrouble +1>><<setchase +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Chase nods. <<include "factoryraid7">>

"Don't worry," Trouble whispers. "They won't detonate without a specific trigger. The other thieves are planting more, too." "I meant to say, Trubs, we brought explosives from <i>our</i> supplies, but why are you carrying so many by yourself? I never told you to, and I doubt ol' Spike over there did." "You never know when you might need to blow something up, mate." They chuckle together like two schoolboys getting up to some mischief. You look to Blade, but he just shakes his head with a faint look of disgust and moves on. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "factoryraid8">><</link>></center>

Eventually you come to a fork in the passageway, one way leading right and the other leading left. "Trouble and I will take the right," Blade says softly. He glances at you. "Are you all right to go left with Chase?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I\'d rather go with you and Trouble."' 'bladetroublekiln'>><<setchase -10>><<setblade +1>><<settrouble +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Chase and I will handle it." ' 'chasecloset'>><<setchase +10>><</link>></li> </ul>

Chase nods. "All right. I'll go on by myself." "Be careful," Trouble whispers. The three of you creep down the corridor, towards a room with a closed door and a flickering orange light beneath its crack. At Blade's nod, Trouble slips forward and oils the hinges, as quickly as if he does this all the time; Blade lifts the latch of the door and eases it silently open. The fires of the kilns inside roar in greeting, nearly blinding you. The leaping flames cast sheets of bright light around the room for a moment, illuminating its contents. Racks of metal trowels and tools and sacks of coal stand against the walls. There's a shelf of supplies in the corner, forming a labyrinth of shadows in the room. A deep alcove is recessed in the wall at the back, with the cots of three young men pressed inside. At Blade's silent motion, Trouble holds up a length of cloth in a well-practiced motion to use as a gag. He looks at you for your signal of readiness, receiving a nod in return. Like quicksilver, Blade glides through the flickering shadows to the cot of the worker sleeping to the right of the alcove. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Watch in silence as he sets to work.' 'watchinsilenceastiesup'>><</link>></li> <<if $magic gte 40 or $specialization is "conjurer">><li><<link 'Use your magic to bind the last two yourself.' 'useyourmagictobindthemyourself'>><<setmagic +3>><<setastral +1>><<setarcane +1>><<setblade +1>><<settrouble +1>><</link>></li><<else>><<disabled "Use your magic to bind the last one yourself.">><</if>> </ul>

A coil of rope lies near the beds; Blade whisks it from the floor, slashes it to pieces, and tosses two to you and Trouble, then turns to the task of binding the first sleeping worker. <<include "bladetroublekiln2">>

You snap your fingers gently, making the gesture of binding, and a coil of rope on the floor floats up before whipping around the other two workers. <<include "bladetroublekiln2">>

Blade bends over the first worker, a tall, thin young man with wiry blond hair, pressing a finger against the artery in his neck. The boy's eyes fly open, and when he opens his mouth to gasp, Blade wedges the gag in, pushing it roughly but not enough to cause choking. Before the worker can exhale, his hands are tied behind his back. "Don't move," Blade murmurs to the other apprentice, a tall bald boy whose eyes have opened. Behind you, you can hear Trouble struggling with the third worker. "Ow—hold still, you sharmooti—<i>argh</i>! You <i>bit</i> me!" You whirl in time to see him pull back and deliver the haymaker blow many of the recruits have admired during training sessions before. The third worker—a dark-haired young man—falls back against his bunk with a sickening crack; the blond boy Blade is binding cringes. "You want to keep your teeth, don't try that again," Trouble says through a clenched jaw, rubbing the side of his gloved hand. "Did he draw blood?" Blade asks quietly. "No, but I think I did." <<nobr>><<if $troubleromanceflag gte 5 or $trouble gte 50>> <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Are you all right, Trouble?"' 'areyouallrighttrouble'>><<settrouble +1>><</link>></li> <<if $specialization is "healer">><li><<link '"Do you want me to heal you?"' 'doyouwantmetohealyoutrouble'>><<settrouble +1>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link 'Take his hand and examine it.' 'taketroubleshandexamine'>><<settrouble +1>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Concentrate on the task at hand.' 'bladetroublekiln3'>><</link>></li> </ul> <<else>> <br><br> <<include "bladetroublekiln3">> <</if>><</nobr>>

He smiles briefly at you. "I'm fine. Don't worry about me, <<c halfname>>." <<include "bladetroublekiln3">>

He smiles at you briefly. "I'm fine. Don't worry about me, <<c halfname>>." <<include "bladetroublekiln3">>

He smiles at you briefly. "I'm fine. Don't worry about me, <<c halfname>>. The gloves help."<<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 5>> <br><br> Blade scowls and looks away. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "bladetroublekiln3">>

You look back at the apprentice who bit him; the dark-haired worker sneers at you through his gag and bleeding mouth. "What's with him?" "I mean, we are invading their factory in the dead of night," Trouble mutters. "If someone did the same to me, I'd probably bite them, too." But there's something manic in the worker's eye as you approach him; and his clothes have the scent of Black Sun on them. He thrashes against his bonds as you stare at him; has he already been lost to the drug? Once all are bound, Blade turns and puts his fingers to the throat of the bald worker, who is trembling like a leaf in the high wind. He's the only one who hasn't been gagged. "Where is your master?" the dark-haired Ket asks. "The owner of the factory? And are you the only people here?" The boy struggles to speak, but nothing comes out at first. He swallows and tries again. "His office," he whispers. "Up at the top of the factory. On the right-hand side, if you take a left turn from here—there are stairs—" "Why is he here so late?" "I—I don't know." The boy goes white at the expression on Blade's face. Sputtering as the pressure on his neck increases slightly, he babbles: "We—we don't see him, or talk to him. He gives us orders through pieces of paper he shoves under the door. We're all that's left. He fired everyone else, once he came back from the North." "What was in the North?" "I don't know. <i>Ah</i>! I heard someone say he goes to Karzai a lot. I figured some badness got into him there. A curse, or something. I don't know!" Blade looks to the other two workers. "Is that true?" The blond one nods mutely, glassy-eyed and terrified, whereas the third one snarls. "Are you making Black Sun here?" you ask then. The bald boy hesitates. "I… I don't know if that's what it is," he admits. "We just do as the boss tells us." He looks ashamed. "But—yeah, it might be so." Blade turns away. "Gag him," he says to Trouble. "If any of them so much as move, cut their throats." He says it clearly enough to cow all three of the workers—even the biting one—into stillness and silence. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Go easy. These are innocent civilians."' 'goeasytheseinnocentcivilians'>><<setblade -1>><<settrouble +1>><<setcompassionate +3>><<setreputation +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"We should hogtie them. I\'ve seen them glancing at that bell more than once. They might summon reinforcements."' 'weshouldhogtiethem'>><<setcunning +1>><<setcompassionate -3>><<setblade +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Threaten them. "If you try to scream, I\'ll burn you alive."' 'threatenthemifyoutryscream'>><<setcompassionate -5>><<settrouble -3>><<setreputation -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Blade shoots you a look. "We don't know that yet," he says tightly—but he's more gentle as he handles the workers. <<include "bladetroublekiln4">>

"Good idea," Blade says; he and Trouble move to do as you say. <<include "bladetroublekiln4">>

The workers' eyes go wide. You wouldn't do it, of course, but it never hurts to scare them into compliance. <<include "bladetroublekiln4">>

"As you search the room for anything else that might be helpful, Chase saunters back in, pausing at the sight of the three gagged workers. "Oh, that's lucky," he says. "You had enough people to deal with these. <i>I</i> had to deal with mine by myself." "Where are they now?" Blade asks him. "Did they give you trouble?" you add. "Only a bit," Chase returns nonchalantly. "And they're in a kiln." You whirl, staring at him. "<i>In the kiln</i>?" "You burned them?" Trouble asks, incredulous. "Oh, it's not lit," Chase answers, his hands shoved insouciantly in his pockets. "At least—it didn't look like it. Maybe if we come back, they'll be turned into vases." He winks at the bound and gagged workers. "All right, lads? Comfortable?" Trouble snags him by the shoulder as you head out. "Come on. We're going to take care of the boss now." <<include "clochusfightfactory">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "clochusfightfactory2">><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<if settings.music is true>><<audio ":playing" fadeoverto 5 0>><</if>><</nobr>>You make your way up to the top of the factory, heading towards the owner's office. As you go, you notice how the air turns damper, <i>danker</i> somehow—and how the torches and lamps that line the corridors have somehow all gone out. A strange stench, something like burning rubber and rotting garbage, invades your nostrils as your group presses on. Trouble gags, and you have to cover your mouth with your sleeve as you try not to vomit from the smell. Finally, you reach the office door, a solid metal thing that's built like it's guarding a jail cell. There is no light from within. Blade listens at the door for a moment, then nods at the three of you before he kicks the door in. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "clochusfightfactory3">><</link>></center>

The office looks like what you would expect of a factory owner's workspace: aged wood, utilitarian shelves and desk. You notice that a kind of belt has been rigged in one corner of the room, shuttling something off through a large vent, presumably heading to the factory floor. It is exceptionally dark. But there's also something else, the scent of something lacing through the cool damp gloom: something sickly, like mold. And when you put out a hand to steady yourself against the wall—<i>where are the lights?</i>—you jerk back. You touched not the smooth, paved surface of brick or plaster, but something irregular and bulging and wet. Somewhere in the darkness, there is the sound of enormous breathing. The walls themselves seem to move like lungs. Trouble gives a muffled curse. <ul class="choices"> <<if $magic gte 20>><li><<link 'Light up the darkness with your magic.' 'lightupdarknesswithmagic2'>><<setmagic +1>><</link>></li><<else>><<disabled "Light up the darkness with your magic.">><</if>> <<if $lantern is true>><li><<link 'Use the travel lantern you carry.' 'usetravellanterncarry'>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link 'Stumble forward into the darkness.' 'stumbleforwarddarknessinto'>><<sethealth -5>><</link>></li> </ul>

Your magelight erupts into a golden flare, sending light bursting into the room. <<include "clochusfightfactory4">>

You raise your little lantern, sending a weak light flickering into the room. <<include "clochusfightfactory4">>

You stumble forwards, tripping a little and rolling your ankle. Behind you, Chase lights one of the braziers in the corridor. <<include "clochusfightfactory4">>

It illuminates a horror almost too disgusting to describe. An immense creature crowds the office, leaking black pus across the floors and sumptuous rug. It is almost shapeless, inhuman, with a number of rheumy yellow eyes that swim along the dark mass of its form, as if it's barely holding itself together. Shiny black mushrooms sprout from the pores of its skin, budding and dying by the minute. Its breathing is labored, cavernously loud, and some what sort of strange black substance—resin?—leaks from the slit that forms its mouth and onto its chin. Staring at it, your mouth fills with bile, and that feeling of Rot darkens the edges of your visions. Somehow, you recognize the semi-familiar smell eking from the thing's body: it reminds you of that tin of Black Sun you confiscated from Benir Roxak. The horrible realization strikes you then. The thing is vomiting up the substance that creates Black Sun, loading it onto this conveyor belt to be processed down in the factory. This, then, must be the Faceless Lord. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "clochusfightfactory5">><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<if settings.music is true>><<audio "battle3" volume 0.1 loop play>><</if>><<set $clochushealth to 100>><<if $mainweapon is "bow">><<set $mainweapon2 to "arrow">><<setbow +1>><<set $fire to "fire">><<set $fire2 to "shoot">><<set $fire3 to "reload">><<elseif $mainweapon is "sword">><<set $mainweapon2 to "blade">><<setsword +1>><<set $fire to "stab">><<set $fire2 to "slash">><<set $fire3 to "hack">><<elseif $mainweapon is "dagger">><<set $mainweapon2 to "knife">><<setdagger +1>><<set $fire to "stab">><<set $fire2 to "slash">><<set $fire3 to "hack">><<elseif $mainweapon is "gun">><<set $mainweapon2 to "bullet">><<setgun +1>><<set $fire to "bullet">><<set $fire2 to "shoot">><<set $fire3 to "reload">><</if>><</nobr>>Blade, Chase, and Trouble draw their weapons. "Ushala?" Chase calls. "Henrek Ushala?" <<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="demonic">"Not anymore,"</span><<else>>"Not anymore,"<</if>> the Faceless Lord gurgles. Then it spots you standing there and laughs, a wet, hideous sound. <<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="demonic">"Brightburner. Come to get your fill?"</span><<else>>"Brightburner. Come to get your fill?"<</if>> <ul class="choices"> <<if ($bow gte 20 or $gun gte 20) or ($sword gte 20 or $dagger gte 20)>><li><<link 'Raise your weapon and charge it.' 'raiseweaponchargeclochus'>><<setstrength +1>><<if $mainweapon is "bow">><<setbow +3>><<elseif $mainweapon is "gun">><<setgun +3>><<elseif $mainweapon is "dagger">><<setdagger +3>><<elseif $mainweapon is "sword">><<setsword +3>><</if>><<set $clochushealth -= 15>><<if $strength lt 20>><<sethealth -10>><</if>><</link>></li><<else>><<disabled "Raise your weapon and charge it.">><</if>> <<if $astral gte 20>><li><<link 'Set the thing on fire.' 'settheclochusonfire'>><<set $clochushealth -= 20>><<setmagic +3>><<set $clochushealth -= 20>><</link>></li><<else>><<disabled "Set the thing on fire.">><</if>> <li><<link 'Call to the other thieves for help. ' 'calltotheotherthievesforhelp'>><<setcourage -1>><<if $strength lt 20>><<sethealth -20>><</if>><</link>></li> </ul>

You use your $mainweapon to attack the creature, <<print $fire2>>ing rapid-fire as you lunge forward. The others join you, Blade' sword arcing through the air like dark quicksilver, Trouble's gunfire loud and ringing in your ears. Beside you, Chase is moving almost too fast to see, a bright pistol in one hand, a jagged dagger in the other. The creature roars, but your weapons seem like the irritating bites of insects to it, rather than doing any real damage. It lashes out, its body forming writhing black tentacles that whip through the air, and Blade and Chase<<nobr>><<if $strength gte 20>> and you dodge out of the way, rolling nimbly to your feet just out of harm's way. Trouble is not so lucky: the butt end of his rifle gets caught and is sent spinning away into the darkness. <br><br> <<include "clochusfightfactory6">> <<else>> dodge, rolling nimbly out of the way. You and Trouble are not so lucky: the butt end of his rifle gets caught and is sent spinning away into the darkness. You are struck hard across the jaw and sent into the strange bulbous wall, and a glass frame nearly shatters over your head. <br><br> <<include "clochusfightfactory6">> <</if>><</nobr>>

You raise your hand and draw on the source of power deep inside you, the spark of magic in your blood setting the gunpowder lining your bones on fire. You fling your will at the creature and imagine it erupting into white, dazzling flame. It shrieks as your magic sets upon it, popping and blistering its oozing skin. Trouble adds his bullets to the fray, and Blade and Chase leap forwardly and grimly slice into the solid mass a flurry of times, too fast to count. But then the creature rallies, expelling a cloud of pus that extinguishes your magical flames. Writhing black tentacles whip outwards, snagging the end of Trouble's rifle and sending it flying; you, Blade, and Chase barely manage to dodge. <<include "clochusfightfactory6">>

You open your mouth to call for reinforcements—this thing is way too big for you to confront on your own—but before you can get a full sentence out, the creature's limbs come whipping towards you, abnormally long. You <<nobr>><<if $strength gte 20>>dodge and roll out of the way, escaping harm, and the others manage to leap out of the way, as well.<<else>>get struck fairly hard in the face, sending you flying backwards into Chase; you both scramble to get out of each other's way as the creature whips its limbs at you, again and again. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "clochusfightfactory6">>

The monster lets out some sort of screech. "<i>Help me!</i>" it cries out in a distinctly-human voice. "Please! I'm still here!" You hesitate and it laughs, this time in the demon's voice. <<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="demonic">"You're too late,"</span><<else>>"You're too late,"<</if>> it says mockingly. <<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="demonic">"I've claimed this wretch's soul: there's nothing for you to save. I fed on his gluttony and greed until he had no more to give. Now I use his family, his gold, so that all may know the same consumptive bliss as he knew." </span><<else>>"I've claimed this wretch's soul: there's nothing for you to save. I fed on his gluttony and greed until he had no more to give. Now I use his family, his gold, so that all may know the same consumptive bliss as he knew." <</if>> <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Let him go, demon!"' 'lethimgodemonclochus'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Glance at the others. Can you really chance attacking the monster if there\'s a chance the man it\'s possessed is still alive?' 'canhenrekbesaved'>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setcunning -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"How long have you been possessing him?"' 'howlongpossessinghimclochusman'>><</link>></li> </ul>

The thing laughs, sensing your hesitation. "You won't be able to take him from me," it taunts. "Before I came to him, he was weak, ineffectual... now he is powerful, exacting. Able to make good on his contacts all across your brightworld. With my help, he has been able to spread joy… and all the misery that comes with it. He has given the wretched animals food and pleasure, and made them all the more hungry." It eyes you greedily, all its yellow eyes spinning. "And I have fed on their hunger, their sloth. And I grow all the hungrier… Brightburner." <<include "clochusfightfactory7">>

The thing gives a wet, gurgling laugh. "Let him go?" it echoes. "No, I am helping him! Before I came to him, he was weak, ineffectual… now he is powerful, exacting. Able to make good on his contacts all across your brightworld. With my help, he has been able to spread joy… and all the misery that comes with it. He has given the wretched animals food and pleasure, and made them all the more hungry." It eyes you greedily, all its yellow eyes spinning. "And I have fed on their hunger, their sloth. And I grow all the hungrier… Brightburner." <<include "clochusfightfactory7">>

Without warning, its limbs burst forward again to lash out at you. Blade slices one, two, four in two with his sword, but the limbs grow back even longer and stronger; Trouble fires with his pistol, Chase throwing a flurry of knives, but bullets and blades do little against such a strong demon. You spend several minutes battling it out with the Faceless Lord, though it really feels like hours. The miasma of its toxic essence seems to choke the room, and it becomes hard to breathe. Sweat pours down your face. You think someone may be banging on the office door—<i>when did it close</i>?—but you can't find an opening long enough to open it. Suddenly Chase cries: "Its eyes! Aim for its eyes!" You exchange a significant look with all of them. <ul class="choices"> <<if $magic gte 35 or $astral gte 30>><li><<link 'Blind the Faceless Lord using your magic.' 'blindlordfacemagicyour'>><<setmagic +1>><<set $clochushealth -= 10>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link 'Attack the Faceless Lord in tandem.' 'attacktandemfaceless'>><<setstrength +1>><<if $strength gte 30>><<set $clochushealth -= 30>><<else>><<set $clochushealth -= 10>><<sethealth -20>><</if>><</link>></li> </ul>

Blade, Trouble, and Chase shut their eyes as you blast out a blistering surge of magic, powerful enough to singe eyeballs and permanently blind. The Faceless Lord screams in pained fury and thrashes full-tilt against the walls, sending bottles crashing down all around you. But it is blinded; its limbs lash out haphazardly, still dangerous but easier to dodge. <<include "clochusfightfactory8">>

The four of you surge forward as one, too fast for the demon to parry. Blade pierces three of the eyes, all flying to different parts of the creature's body; Trouble takes out three in rapid succession. Chase gouges more with vicious efficiency. You aim for the last three, <<nobr>><<if $strength gte 30>> and you meet your marks cleanly; hot black acid gushes out of the demon's eyes, and it gives a pained roar of fury.<<else>>but you miss the last two as the eyes shoot away towards the sides of the monster's body. It gives a scream of fury and lashes you across the back and shoulders.<</if>><</nobr>> <<include "clochusfightfactory8">>

Then it does something you were not expecting. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "clochusfightfactory9">><</link>></center>

All of the mushrooms lining the creature's body explode as one, in a shower of spores. There is the smell of something sweet and rotting, like fruit left to spoil in the sun, a splitting carcass on the road. The yellowish fumes fill the room. You cough in surprise and cover your mouth with a sleeve: already, Trouble has toppled over, insensate, and Blade is clearly struggling to remain conscious. Chase shouts before losing consciousness—"Don't breathe it in, <<c firstname>>!" But the poisonous gas seems to have no effect on you. Blade gamely tries to fight on, hacking off another of the creature's limbs, before he looks at you and chokes out, "…Run." He falls over, and the creature laughs, bubbling and spitting up Black Sun. "When I consume your spirit and dissolve your bones inside my stomach, I'll make sure you feel every moment of it," it promises you darkly. "Speak your last words now, Brightburner, even if there's no one left to hear them." <<include "clochusdeath2">>

<ul class="choices"> <li><<link '<i>Speak</i>... Speak the Word of Power!' 'speakthewordofpowertoclochus'>><<set $clochusdead to true>><<set $facelesslordsdead += 1>><<set $godspeaker -= 1>><</link>></li> <<if $magic gte 43>><li><<link 'Scream out a magical incantation that will destroy it utterly.' 'speakmagicalincantationdestroyutterly'>><<if $clochushealth lte 50>><<set $clochusdead to true>><<set $facelesslordsdead += 1>><</if>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if ($sword gte 35 or $gun gte 35) or ($dagger gte 35 or $bow gte 35)>><<if not hasVisited("plungmawcavern")>><li><<link 'Plunge your $mainweapon2 into its cavernous maw.' 'plungmawcavern'>><<set $clochushealth -= 20>><<sethealth -30>><</link>></li><</if>><</if>> </ul>

<<nobr>><<if $clochushealth lte 50>> Your will, ever stronger, meets with the Faceless Lord's in a ferocious clash that sounds like the sun and moon colliding. It is such a momentous impact that your brain shorts out, and your vision goes white, and all the heat and cold leave your body at once, as if you have simply… dissolved. <br><br> Somewhere you hear the demon screaming, somewhere you feel its essence being purged from the world—but you don't see it. Still, when you feel the destruction of its soul, your own feels lightened… cleansed. <br><br> Then you open your eyes, see how its body has disappeared, even the ooze of Black Sun… and you know. <br><br> You have defeated the Faceless Lord for good. <br><br> <<include "clochusgone2">> <<else>> Your will meets with the Faceless Lord's in a ferocious clash that sounds like the sun and moon colliding. It is such a momentous impact that your brain shorts out, and your vision goes white, and all the heat and cold leave your body at once, as if you have simply… dissolved. <br><br> Somewhere you hear the demon screaming, but its essence refuses to budge, like a black spot from the world that can't ever be erased. With a rising sense of panic, you realize you aren't strong enough to destroy it entirely… but you can banish it back to Hael. <br><br> You scream the words, though what you're saying you're not sure: they could as likely be epithets and wordless cries as they could be the words to an incantation. Still, you feel it—the worldwalls giving way, the warping and bending of space and time. When you feel the demon's soul go, your own feels lightened… cleansed. There is a <i>pop</i>, small and almost comedic in nature. <br><br> Then, when you open your eyes, you see that its body has disappeared… though the ooze of Black Sun was left behind. <br><br> You sag in relief. The Faceless Lord is gone. Not forever, but for now. <br><br> You've managed to save <<if $loyal gte 50>> your friends. <br><br> <<include "clochusgone2">> <<else>> yourself. <br><br> <<include "clochusgone2">> <</if>> <</if>><</nobr>>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "clochusgone2a">><</link>></center>

Chase nods, failing to provide a witty quip for once, and together the two of you creep together down the hall towards yet another room full of flickering light. This room is empty, as expected, and seems to be some kind of bunkroom for workers to rest and sleep, perhaps while performing shifts overnight. You sift through a few discarded belongings with disinterest: a workshirt here, a little table of cards there. This factory must have once been full of people, but it seems they've all been driven away. Chase is rummaging through a storage locker for valuables. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Do you really have to do that here?"' 'chasecloset2'>><<setchase -3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Concentrate, Trinaeste. We\'re looking for the source of the Black Sun, not workers\' belongings."' 'chasecloset2'>><<setloyal +2>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Find anything good?"' 'chasecloset2'>><<setchase +1>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

"Work contracts," Chase whispers, pulling out a crude lock-box. "Trying to see if there are any names here, anything that can give us a hint of what went on." He passes a hand over the lock, and as if by magic, it springs open. Oblivious to your stare, Chase peers inside the box, frowning, before he passes a sheaf of papers over to you. "Henrek Ushala," you read aloud, looking at the name of the factory owner. Then you pause. That name sounds awfully familiar… <<nobr>><<if $intelligence gte 25>> "I know someone with that surname," you say. "Not the same person, but perhaps a relative. Turti Ushala married someone I know: Prihine Naveen. He's a…" <br><br> "Trade Minister," Chase says succinctly. "He's <i>the</i> Trade Minister. The one we've been saying is funding Black Sun." <<else>> But you can't think of it, so Chase says, "Turti Ushala is the Trade Minister. Not the same bloke as Henrek, but <i>he's</i> the one we've been saying is funding Black Sun." <</if>><</nobr>> You raise your eyebrows. "So the factory owner is related to the man you think is providing the money for Black Sun?" "Turti pays for it, Henrek makes it," Chase says grimly. "It's a family business. Maybe Turti is a cousin, a brother—a father—" "Do you think Turti even knows what he's funding? What if his so-called impoverished relative is just asking him for money?" "Could be," Chase says. "Now we just need to find one of the buggers and ask them." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span><i>Creak...</i></span></div></div>' "chasecloset3">><</link>></center>

Very suddenly, you hear a step coming from the corridor, from behind the closed door you just came from. Before you can even register what's happening, Chase grabs you and dives into a nearby supply closet in one silent flash. He shuts the door behind you with a tiny click, and the two of you stand there, crammed together in the close, warm darkness. A pair of voices move into the room, growing louder by the second. "I've got a strange feeling about this," one voice—a male—complains. "I could have sworn I saw something on the outer wall." "You're imagining things," his companion replies. "It's just how spooky this place looks, all empty and dark." A sigh. "I hate how dead it is 'round here. I still can't believe the boss fired everybody but us. Why d'you think he did it?" "Money troubles? Rumor has it he's broke. Gambler." The first voice makes a sympathetic noise. "But then how'd he afford to get all the factory stuff magicked and bespelled and ensorcelled?" A pause. "And what do you think he's making, anyway?" "Don't ask questions. I don't fancy getting fired for looking where my nose don't smell." "Why d'you think he chose us?" "See, I just told you not to ask questions." Another pause. "Dunno. He's been acting weird ever since he came back from the North. Maybe he caught some sickness up there." '<i>Karzai</i>,' Chase mouths at you. His breath tickles your face, and you nearly sneeze. Quite absurdly, his breath smells of mint, and you can feel the warm amber presence of him rising up in waves. Suddenly you realize that you're stuffed together into a closet that would barely fit one person, let alone two, your limbs practically tangled up, and surprisingly Chase doesn't even seem to notice: he's entirely absorbed in listening to the conversation outside. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'You\'re impressed he hasn\'t said anything cheesy yet.' 'youreimpressedhehasntsaidanythingcheesy'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Stick to business. "Do you think we should interrogate them?"' 'sticktobusinessdoyouthink'>><<setloyal +2>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Push him away.' 'pushchaseaway'>><<setchase -3>><<set $chaseromanceflag to 0>><</link>></li> <<if $attractedto is not "women">><li><<link '"You put us in here on purpose, didn\'t you?" <b>[FLIRT]</b>' 'youputushereonpurposedidntyou'>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 2>><<setchase +1>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link 'Blush madly and edge away.' 'blushmadlyedgeaway'>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Chase shakes his head. "They don't know anything," he whispers. "Let's wait until they leave." <<include "chasecloset4">>

"Hey!" Chase hisses, looking alarmed. "You're going to tip them off!" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Just don\'t try anything obscene!"' 'justdontryanythingobscene'>><<setchase -3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Sorry..."' 'chasecloset4'>><</link>></li> </ul>

He looks offended. "We're on a mission," he whispers, aggrieved. "I <i>never</i> mix work and pleasure." Somehow you don't believe that's true. <<include "chasecloset4">>

"Hm?" Then he blinks, your whispered meaning dawning on him. "Ah." He looks at you with a rogueish grin—or is that a knowing smirk? "Much as I'd like to be pressed up against you, darling, I'd prefer to do it in less dangerous places." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Where\'s your sense of adventure?"' 'wheressenseofadventure'>><<setcourage +1>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Wait, I didn\'t mean it that way!"' 'waitchaseididntmeanitthatway'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"It\'s a date, then."' 'itsadatethenchase'>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> </ul>

For just the briefest moment, you think you feel a physical heat flaring from Chase: intrigue and curiosity rolled up into one intense pulse. Then he laughs, very quietly, and says, "Remind me to show you some time." <<include "chasecloset4">>

Chase laughs, very quietly. "You're cute, <<c firstname>>. How else did you mean it?" You're unable to formulate an articulate reply. You tell yourself that attempting to do so would risk giving away your position, anyway. <<include "chasecloset4">>

Chase winks at you. "I'll hold you to it, sunshine." <<include "chasecloset4">>

Chase notices your movement out of the corner of his eye, but aside from a tiny smirk, he still seems more focused on what's going on outside the closet. <<include "chasecloset4">>

"He hasn't eaten, has he?" the worker outside says then, interrupting you. "How's that possible?" "I dunno. Like I said, stop asking questions." The pair of them, oblivious to your presence, leave the room and move away, still chattering. After waiting for several breathless moments, Chase eases the door open and the two of you slip out. "Think that's enough proof for Blade?" he asks in an undertone. "The automated factory, all the workers fired, the owner returned from the North and funded by his wealthy relative—" You nod. It does seem pretty obvious that Black Sun is being made here. But even if you get rid of the Faceless Lord, does that mean the drug will be eradicated forever? There are at least some humans here who are happy enough to help with whatever is going on… You meet Blade and Trouble in the middle of the corridor. "We know where the boss is," the latter whispers harshly; he never seems to be able to keep his voice fully down. "He's been squirreled away in his office for sennights, apparently." "We found out he came back from the North," Chase whispers back. "Been acting weird since returning from Karzai. Maybe he picked up the demon there. And, get this—he's a relative of that Trade Minister, the one who we thought was funding Black Sun." Blade looks grim. "The pieces are all falling into place," he says. "Let's finish it off by killing the thing." <<include "clochusfightfactory">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "thiefend3">><<audio ":playing" stop>><</link>></center>

<<achieve "achieve_guerillawarfare">><<notify_achievement "GUERILLA WARFARE" "Raided the Black Sun factory and blew up the supply of the drug.">> You wake up a day later, tucked into a clean bed in a quiet place. For a moment, all of the white and softness make you think you've gone to your eternal rest… …but then you turn and look, and you see Blade's stern face and dark eyes watching you gravely from your bedside. You look around and realize that you're back in the Shepherds' infirmary. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"You\'re alive!"' 'yourealivebladeinfirmary'>><<setblade +1>><<setcompassionate +2>><<setloyal +2>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'m alive?"' 'imaliveinthisinfirmary'>><<setloyal -2>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"What happened?"' 'whathappenedfromclochusfight'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

He smiles at your response. "Yes, thanks to you," Blade says, inclining his head. "Do you remember what happened?" <<include "thiefend4">>

He smiles at your response. "Yes," Blade says, inclining his head. "Do you remember what happened?" <<include "thiefend4">>

Blade studies you. "You don't remember?" <<include "thiefend4">>

You sink back against the pillows; suddenly you notice the enormous bouquets set in vases at your bedside, the tokens pressed against your sheets. Haltingly the story comes out: you remember the noxious gas, attacking the demon on your last legs… Blade fills in the gaps for you. He, Trouble, and Chase are all fine; after the Faceless Lord's disappearance, the other thieves were able to open the door to the office and get you all to help. The gas was a mild paralytic that did no lasting damage; a Healer was able to recommend a speedy antidote that had everyone on their feet within the hour, though there was some panic when it failed to rouse you. The thieves had been busy setting up explosives inside the factory, and once they evacuated the five human workers alongside your group, they detonated and blew up the entire foundry, ensuring Black Sun could never be recreated again. Blade and Trouble also brought evidence of Turti Ushala's involvement to the Sun Court: further investigation showed that he was giving his cousin loans, but was unaware of what the money was being used for. The Inquisitors cleared him of true collusion with the demon, though it's understood he will be stripped of his titles and publicly shamed. <<if $prihinesafe or $bothsafe>> (You wonder how Prihine will react to that news, and further wonder what the divorce laws are for members of the Sun Court.) <</if>> The Faceless Lord, under the guise of the factory owner Henrek Ushala, was planning to ship the Black Sun all throughout the knownAutarchy. From there, the Faceless Lord's influence would have spread to unimaginable lengths: the Endarkened was feeding on the catatonia the drug incited in its victims, in much the same way a parasite feeds on the nutrients of its host and grows bigger. "So the factory owner's body and soul are gone? The Faceless Lord took it over entirely?" you ask, drinking thirstily from the stone water jug on the table. Blade's face is impassive. "It seems so. There was a grave marked for him, but someone has already defaced it and set fire to the plot." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "thiefend5">><</link>></center>

More details come out over time, as Trouble, Shery, Tallys, and even Chase come to visit you over the next hours. The Thieves Guild has made a reconciliatory move with Merchants Guild, and out of appreciation for their actions in stopping Black Sun, Riel has ensured that their captured thief was released and returned to them. The drug is being found and eradicated in all corners of the city, now that the Inquisitors are aware it's connected to an Endarkened entity. Clinics for its victims are being opened, though Chase's outlook on those are bleak. "Oh, and I don't know if Spike told you, but we're joining up with you guys from now on," the prince of thieves tells you one day, leaning back in his chair and rocking it on its back legs. Every day he's come to visit you, he's ruffled your hair affectionately and said, "Getting big and strong again, sunshine?" You stare at him. "Blade agreed to let Thieves Guild… join the Shepherds?" "Think of it as a strong alliance," Chase says, steepling his fingers in a mock-serious way. Then he grins at you. "I like you guys, and raiding the factory was fun. And doing something good for once—protecting the city—that felt… kind of nice. We got to be the heroes for once. The others liked it, too. It was a unanimous vote. So we're going to be your guys' spy network, at least for a while. Our reach goes all over the Continent, you know, what with our alliances to sister guilds. You can use us to gather information, intel, infiltrate things that need infiltrating…" He winks at you. "Sometimes you might even need a magical artifact that needs stealing. And won't we come in handy, then?" You sit on it for a while. "But you're… thieves," you say eventually. "We're on opposite sides of the law." "Shhh," Chase says gently. "We're all on the same side when it comes to the demons. And hey: what the Autarch doesn't know won't hurt her, huh?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Welcome to the fold, I guess."' 'thiefend6'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'m glad to have you aboard."' 'thiefend6'>><<setchase +1>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You did fight admirably. I think you\'d be a valuable addition to the Order."' 'thiefend6'>><<setchase +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Just... behave, please."' 'thiefend6'>><<setloyal +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"All right, if Blade thinks it\'s a good idea..."' 'thiefend6'>><</link>></li> </ul>

He beams. "The Prince of Thieves and the Hero of Haven," he says with obvious relish. "I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "thiefend7">><<setreputation +15>><</link>></center>

No one really asks you how you defeated the Faceless Lord Clochus, the Devourer: it's clear the physical toll the act has taken on you, though you're recovering quickly by the day. All the others do is sing your praises to anyone who will listen, and for a while, you're told that's all to be heard in the streets: stories of the factory being taken over by a Faceless Lord to produce an evil, mind-destroying drug, right under everyone's noses... and tales of the lone Shepherd who faced the grotesque demon down and brought it to its knees. Even Riel Syndran comes to visit you one day, settling primly in the infirmary chair as if he lives there. "Hello, <<c rank>> <<c surname>>," he says politely. "I feel privileged to witness the beginning of your meteoric rise. I'll be able to tell people that I once knew the so-called 'Hero of Haven.'" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Yup, that\'s me..."' 'yupthatsmeman'>><<setreputation +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Is Chase spreading that name around?"' 'ischasespreadingnamearound'>><<setchase +1>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'m not having a meteoric rise. I was just doing my job."' 'notmeteoricrisejustjob'>><<setloyal +4>><<setcompassionate +2>><<setriel +1>><<if $gender is "male">><<set $rielromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> </ul>

He smiles. "I'm glad the glory isn't going to your head." <<include "thiefend8">>

He laughs a little, a dry, brittle chuckle. "I can't speak to the origins of the title," he says with some mirth. "Only that it seems to be on the lips of everyone in Haven." <<include "thiefend8">>

Riel smiles quietly. "I admire your professionalism," he murmurs. "I don't know that even I would be so humble." <<include "thiefend8">>

For a moment the two of you study each other in silence. Then Riel inclines his head and says, "I knew I should have gone with you, the last time you left my office. I had a feeling that you were right, that you would go wherever the true trouble was—but I held back, clinging to my old prejudice against the Thieves Guild. A mistake I won't make again." He pauses, watching you. "I also do not wish to watch on the sidelines while you accomplish momentous things again. I'd rather… be in the fray, if you will." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"What kind of <i>fray</i> are you referring to?" <b>[INNUENDO]</b>' 'whatkindoffrayreferringto'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I found myself wishing you\'d gone with us. We could have used your wits."' 'ifoundmyselfwishingyoudgonewithuswits'>><<setriel +1>><<if $charisma gte 35>><<set $rielromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"What can you do? You don\'t look as if you can fight."' 'whatcandolookasiffight'>><<setriel -3>><<setcharisma -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

"The fight against the Endarkened, of course," Riel answers. It's clear he understands your implicit meaning, but is choosing to ignore it. <<include "thiefend9">>

Riel smiles. "That's why I'm here," he says. <<include "thiefend9">>

Riel snorts. "Fighters are not the only thing your Order needs," he replies. "You also need intelligence, coordination, tacticians, diplomats—and that's not to speak of the equipment, requisitions, and business connections I can bring." <<include "thiefend9">>

You tilt your head. Where is he going with this? Riel looks down and begins to pick invisible lint off his sleeves, an unconscious habit. "Merchants Guild can be more," he begins slowly. "More than trading money, more than keeping account books. There's a chance to do real good in the world here. And having seen—at least second-hand—the things you can accomplish, I see no reason not to throw our lot in with yours." He looks at you. "So Merchants Guild will be forming am alliance, of sorts, with the Shepherds. Seeing your heroism and the importance of your investigations convinces me of your vital role in keeping this city alive and thriving. Haven needs you, and for that, I would like to lend you my aid." He takes a breath. "So the Merchants Guild will operate as the Shepherds' sponsor and supplier from now on. Anything you need, I can find. Equipment, armor, weapons, contracts with other merchants—I will be taking care of these from now on." You stare at him. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"But we\'re Diminished. Won\'t you have blow-back for allying with us?"' 'butwerediminishedblowback'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You know that means you\'ll have to work with Chase, right? He already joined."' 'youknowworkwithchasejoined'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"What specific kinds of services would you be offering?"' 'whatspecifickindsofservicesoffering'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"It\'s not up to me, you know."' 'itsnotuptomeyouknowchaseokay'>><<setloyal +3>><</link>></li> </ul>

Riel sniffs. "We are living in a new era, my friend," he says. "I believe we can serve as examples to others. We will not let old biases stand as a barrier between us any longer. Not when there is good to do, and much more important things to be concerned about." <<include "thiefend10">>

Riel wrinkles his nose, but otherwise he doesn't say much. "I will tolerate it," he says stiffly. "Now that I know he wasn't behind the Black Sun incidents, and the raids were a result of a… well-intentioned… misunderstanding—I can work towards viewing him in a better light." He pauses. "…Marginally." <<include "thiefend10">>

"We will be supplying everything to the Order," Riel says. "I have merchants of every stripe in my guild. I will find you the best weapons, the best materials, the best ingredients, everything at the fairest prices. It will save you money and ensure your officers are well-equipped to do their jobs." He pauses, his fingers drumming slightly on his knee. "I also have… personal talents," he says slowly. "I can't fight, but I can coordinate. Organize. Plan and strategize. I am a good and proven tactician. I've studied history and even military maneuvers extensively—and I am a competent negotiator. I have a law degree, which is always useful to have on hand, and I have even served as an interrogator. A successful one." He smiles slightly. "I even dabble in inventing, in my spare time. Perhaps I can create something useful for you Shepherds." <<include "thiefend10">>

Riel inclines his head. "I will be speaking to the commander shortly," he says. "I just wanted to inform you first. I don't foresee him turning me down." <<include "thiefend10">>

<<set $rieljoin to true>>You study Riel, sitting confidently in his chair with his knee crossed over the other, watching you just as keenly. He seems very sincere… and you can't deny how useful such an alliance would be to the Shepherds. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Thank you. We all appreciate this."' 'thankyourielweallappreciatethis'>><<setriel +2>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Welcome aboard, Riel."' 'welcomeaboardriel'>><<setriel +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Just so long as this isn\'t a trick..."' 'justsolongasthisisntatrick'>><<setriel -3>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setcunning +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"If the others are all right with it, I\'m all right with it."' 'iftheothersareallrightimallrightriel'>><<setloyal +5>><</link>></li> </ul>

He smiles. "Thank you, <<c firstname>>," he says, standing and sweeping a formal bow. "I see a fruitful partnership emerging from this endeavor." He pauses. "And… thank you. For your show of faith. And for your service to all of us in Haven." <<include "thiefend11">>

Riel smiles. "Thank you, <<c firstname>>," he says, standing and sweeping a formal bow. "I see a fruitful partnership coming from this endeavor." He pauses. "And… thank you. For your show of faith. And for your service to all of us in Haven." <<include "thiefend11">>

He shakes his head. "No trick," he says, "though I understand why you would think so. I even admire your suspicion, in a way." Then he stands and sweeps you a formal bow. "I give you my word: you will not regret this." <<include "thiefend11">>

Riel nods. "Thank you," he says, standing. "You will not regret this." <<include "thiefend11">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "thiefend12">><<set $army += 20>><</link>></center>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "aftermathminister2">><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<achieve "achieve_partycrasher">><<notify_achievement "Party Crasher" "Infiltrated the<br> Minister's mansion and put a stop to his involvement with Black Sun.">><</nobr>> You wake up a day later, tucked into a clean bed in a quiet place. For a moment, all of the white and softness make you think you've gone to your eternal rest… …but then you turn and look, and you see Blade's stern face and dark eyes watching you gravely from your bedside. You look around and realize that you're back in the Shepherds' infirmary. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"You\'re alive!"' 'yourealiveinfirmary'>><<setblade +1>><<setcompassionate +2>><<setloyal +2>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'m alive?"' 'imaliveinfirmarycont'>><<setloyal -2>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"What happened?"' 'whathappenedininfirmary'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

He smiles at your response. "Yes, thanks to you," Blade says, inclining his head. "Do you remember what happened?" <<include "aftermathminister4">>

He smiles at your response. "Yes," Blade says, inclining his head. "Do you remember what happened?" <<include "aftermathminister4">>

Blade studies you. "You don't remember?" <<include "aftermathminister4">>

You sink back against the pillows; suddenly you notice the enormous bouquets set in vases at your bedside, the tokens pressed against your sheets. Haltingly the story comes out: you remember the noxious gas, attacking the demon on your last legs… Blade fills in the gaps for you. Prihine, Riel, and Trouble are fine; after the Faceless Lord's disappearance, servants were able to open the door to the cellar and get you all help. The gas was a mild paralytic that did no lasting damage; Riel was able to recommend a speedy antidote that had everyone on their feet within the hour, though there was some panic when it failed to rouse you. Trouble and Blade arrested Turti Ushala and presented the damning evidence to the Sun Court: further investigation proved that he was indeed—under the influence of the demon—responsible for distributing Black Sun and was planning to ship it all throughout the Autarchy, using his powers as Minister of Trade. From there, the Faceless Lord's influence would have spread to unimaginable lengths: the Endarkened was feeding on the catatonia the drug incited in its victims, in much the same way a parasite feeds on the nutrients of its host and grows bigger. "What will happen to the Minister?" you ask, drinking thirstily from the stone water jug on the table. Blade's face is impassive. "They hung his head on the Sun Court walls for the birds to pick at. The rest, they threw in a midden heap and burned." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "aftermathminister5">><</link>></center>

More details come out over time, as Trouble, Shery, Tallys, and even Riel come to visit you over the next hours. Prihine is busy taking over as executor of her former husband's estate: she went through a gauntlet of tests from the Inquisitors to determine her innocence, but they found no mark of Taint or Rot on her, no evidence she ever had anything to do with Turti's schemes. Black Sun is being found and eradicated in all corners of the city, now that the Inquisitors are aware it's connected to an Endarkened entity. Clinics for its victims are being opened, though privately Riel's outlook on those are bleak. "Oh, and I will be forming a business partnership with the Order of the Shepherds from now on," the merchant leader informs you contentedly, sipping tea over his crossed knee at your bedside. "An alliance, of sorts. Seeing your heroism and the importance of your investigations convinces me of your vital role in keeping this city alive and thriving. Haven needs you, and for that, I would like to lend you my aid. The Merchants Guild will operate as the Shepherds' sponsor and supplier from now on. Anything you need, I can find. Equipment, armor, weapons, contracts with other merchants—I will be taking care of these from now on." You smile at him. "And what of the danger?" you ask. "Won't it look bad for your reputation, for the Merchants Guild to ally themselves with Diminished?" Riel picks an invisible speck of dirt off of his pant leg, feigning indifference. "I have faced down Clochus, one of the greatest Endarkened of all time," he sniffs. "Compared to that, the Eberts and even Autarchs of the world seem… insignificant." He gives you a secret smile. "But that will have to remain between us for now." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "aftermathminister6">><<setreputation +10>><</link>></center>

No one really asks you how you defeated the Faceless Lord Clochus, the Devourer: it's clear the physical toll the act has taken on you, though you're recovering quickly by the day. All the others do is sing your praises to anyone who will listen, and for a while, you're told that's all to be heard in the streets: stories of the Minister's grand ball being crashed by a Faceless Lord, and tales of the lone Shepherd who faced the grotesque demon down and brought it to its knees. Even Chase Trinaeste comes to visit you, slinking casually into the infirmary as if he lives there. "So," he says, twirling a chair backwards and plopping down into it. "Didn't know I'd pickpocketed a living legend." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Yup, that\'s me... the Hero of Haven."' 'yupthatsmeherohaven'>><<setreputation +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I don\'t have anything else to steal, if that\'s why you\'re here."' 'idonthaveanythingelsestealthatswhyhere'>><<if $charisma gte 25>><<setchase +1>><<setcunning +1>><<setcharisma +1>><<else>><<setchase -1>><<setloyal -1>><<setcompassionate -1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'m not a legend. I was just doing my job."' 'imnotalegendiwasdoingjobmy'>><<setloyal +4>><<setcompassionate +2>><</link>></li> </ul>

Chase laughs. "Glad to see the glory isn't getting to your head, sunshine." <<include "aftermathminister7">>

Chase laughs, the sound genuine and warm. "Didn't come for that this time," he notes humorously. "Just wanted to see how you were doing." <<include "aftermathminister7">>

Chase blows out his cheeks. "C'mon, you crash a Sun Courtier's birthday party, kick the shit out of the demon possessing him, save the lives of everyone there, and put an end to a nefarious drug-slash-said-demon's-spawn—I think you can afford to give yourself a little credit, sunshine." <<include "aftermathminister7">>

For a moment the two of you study each other in silence. Then Chase props his chin up in one hand and says, more thoughtfully: "You know, I had the oddest feeling when you walked out of the hideout that last time. Almost like… regret? I felt like you were going to do something big, and like I was going to miss out on it. And look: I was right! I can't <i>believe</i> you'd go to a Minister's mansion without me. Do you know how much stuff I could have nicked?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Roll your eyes. "Oh, I\'m <i>so</i> sorry I wasn\'t thinking of that." <b>[SARCASM]</b>' 'rolleyesimsosorrythinkingwasntthat'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Tilt your head. "You felt regret?"' 'tiltyourheadyoufeltregret'>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <<if $charisma gte 25>><li><<link 'Smirk. "You had \'the oddest feeling\' when you watched me walk out?" <b>[INNUENDO]</b>' 'smirkyouhadtheoddestfeelingwatched'>><<setchase +1>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li><</if>> </ul>

He grins. "Apology accepted." Then he meets your eye and says more seriously, "To tell you the truth, I don't really want to feel anything like that again." <<include "aftermathminister8">>

You tilt your head. Where is he going with this? Chase takes out something from his belt and begins to play with it unconsciously: one of his knives, a slim silver switchblade. But it's an idle movement, you note, not a threatening one. "Look," he says finally. "I like you, and I like what you guys do here. Contrary to popular opinion, we thieves do care about things other than grifting people and taking their kak. We care about doing good stuff too, at least every once in a while, in a practical sense—a city destroyed and overrun by demons is something we want to prevent. In general, I mean, we want the city safe. I hope we proved that with getting involved with Black Sun…" He looks rueful. "…despite how ineffective we were in handling it. But maybe that's the point: teamed up with the right people, we could be… not ineffective." <ul class="choices"> <<if $intelligence gte 20>><li><<link '"Are you saying... you want to join the Shepherds?"' 'areyousayingyouwanttojointheshepherdschase'>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link '"I\'m not following."' 'sorrychaseimnotfollowing'>><</link>></li> </ul>

"Consider it my act of charity for the century. Hopefully it makes up for all the candy I've stolen from babies." This last part seems to be a joke, but the rest of it might be serious: it looks like Chase is actually offering to ally the Thieves Guild with the Shepherds' Order. <<include "chasejoinriel">>

Chase huffs in a half-amused, half-exasperated way; the action sends the scent of his jacket, smoke and amber, rolling towards you. "I thought we'd been over this," he says. "Sure, we're not <i>official and sanctioned</i> like Merchants Guild, nor are we strictly legal, but as far as those who matter are concerned, we're a guild. A powerful one, at that. And we'll keep things on the down-low: your big bad bosses won't have to find out about it, and Thieves Guild's rivals don't, either. We can be very discreet when we want to be, as I'm sure you know. We've done jobs for clients you'd never believe, or who you'll never hear of. We know how to keep our business buttoned up tight." Then he winks at you. "But, hey, even if a rumor or two <i>were</i> to reach the common working folk... that wouldn't be so bad, would it? The idea of Thieves Guild and the Shepherds' Order working hand-in-hand could show that we're looking out for the little guys, the downtrodden who can't protect themselves… like the Black Sun victims. We're one of them, and we're looking out for them. Maybe it'll help prove all around that we—thieves or Diminished—aren't so bad, after all?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"You know that means you\'ll have to work with Riel, right?"' 'youknowthatmeansyoullhavetoworkwithrielright'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Uh, I don\'t know about that..."' 'uhidontknowchaseaboutthat'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Chase smiles, half to himself. "Yeah, I'm probably being crazy. But just trust me." <<include "chasejoinriel">>

<<set $chasejoin to true>>You study Chase, sitting blithely in his chair and watching you just as keenly. He <i>seems</i> sincere… and you can't deny how useful such an alliance would be to the Shepherds. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Welcome aboard, my friend."' 'welcomeaboardmyfriendchase'>><<setchase +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"If this is some sort of trick, I\'m going to kill you."' 'ifthisissomesortoftrickillkillyou'>><<setchase -3>><<setcompassionate -2>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"If the others are all right with it, I\'m all right with it."' 'iftheothersareallrightimallrightwithit'>><<setloyal +3>><</link>></li> </ul>

"If you put one toe out of line," you warn him, "loot our things, hurt our prospects… I will personally kill you." Chase laughs and holds up his hands. "I admire the skepticism," he says. "But even I know better than to cross somebody who just sent a demon-god back to Hael, crying to his mama. Trust me, <<c firstname>>—you are not going to regret this." <<include "chasejoina">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "chasejoinab">><<set $army += 20>><</link>></center>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "prihineromanceii">><</link>></center>

"…<<c firstname>>?" <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "prihineromanceiii">><</link>></center>

You sit up with a start to find someone standing in the dimly-illuminated doorway of the infirmary. A groggy glance around tells you that you must have dozed off without realizing it; night has fallen, and the infirmary is utterly silent and empty, save for the sputtering of the nearby torchflames, the slender silhouette of your visitor… and you. You squint. "Prihine?" She steps closer to your bed and further into the light—though not, you notice, before closing the infirmary door and locking it. Prihine pads closer to you, revealing that she's wearing a hood and a cloak over her rather plain-looking dress, almost a slip, as if she'd taken pains to avoid being noticed on her way here. In her hands she clutches a bouquet of resplendent red flowers, which she lays on your bedside table. You notice that her grip is tight and white-knuckled. "I came to thank you," Prihine says, sounding grave—or terse—as she lowers her hood, revealing her fluffy bob of rich, ash-blonde curls. "For… for everything. For saving my life." She swallows, hard. "Twice." Before you can speak, she swivels on her heel and unclasps her cloak, setting it down on a nearby chair. As she smooths her hair back, Prihine continues: "I'm rich now, you know. Thanks to you. The Autarch is granting me an annulment. It'll be as if I never married, but I'll have all the titles and wealth that are due to me. I'm a widow, now. And soon-to-be an unmarried maiden once more." She pauses, then looks at you. Though there's a slight tremble in her voice, her eyes are fierce and sparking, as if challenging you to do…. something. "He and I never consummated it, you know. I wouldn't let him touch me." She swallows thickly. "Said I was too traumatized from the wedding. It was half-true." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'What the hell is going on? "Why are you telling me this?"' 'whathehellgoesonprihine'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'m so sorry you had to go through that."' 'imsosorryprihineyouwentthroughthat'>><<set $prihineromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'m glad for you."' 'imgladforyouprihineyes'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Remain silent. ' 'remainsilenttowardprihine'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Prihine comes to sit at your bedside, clasping your hand quite suddenly in an iron grip. <<include "prihineromanceiv">>

Prihine shakes her head fiercely, as if shaking water out of her ears. "Don't be," she says in a hard voice. "I'm not." Then, suddenly, she comes to sit at your bedside, clasping your hand quite suddenly in an iron grip. <<include "prihineromanceiv">>

Prihine looks thrown-off by that; for a moment, she hesitates, then comes to sit at your bedside, clasping your hand in an iron grip. <<include "prihineromanceiv">>

Prihine bites her lip at your silence, but comes to sit at your bedside, clasping your hand quite suddenly in an iron grip. <<include "prihineromanceiv">>

Her hand is cold and shaky; when she leans in close, you realize you've never spoken to her before like this, quietly, as equals—nor have you ever seen her looking quite so… intense. Determined. The firelight casts the shadows of her eyelashes against her cheeks. "We almost died the other night, you and I," Prihine says in a thready voice. Then she clears her throat. "That made me realize… I wanted to see… You see, ever since the church, I've thought about it. About you. I know we can't ever be together—it's not possible, you're…" She trails off, then sucks in a shaky breath."I'm not Diminished. It's not possible, not in that way. And I wouldn't want to. But just for tonight…" She bites her lip, reddening it ever so slightly. "I just wanted to know how it feels. With… with someone I trust. Someone like you. I want…" She blushes, finally, and says in a very, very small voice: "I want to be with you." Then, before you can say or do anything, Prihine rises and takes off her silk shift with a shiver, letting it pool like water down at her feet. And quite abruptly you realize that she's wearing nothing underneath it. Prihine raises her chin at your stare. "Well?" she asks, almost defiantly. "Do you want me as well? Or not?" Could this really be happening? Is Prihine Naveen, terror of Brunen, now lady of the Ushala estate… really offering you a night of passion, with no strings attached? <<include "damnprihine">>

<ul class="choices"> <<if $attractedto is not "men">><<if not hasVisited("letyoureyesroamoverher")>><<link '<div class="question-item"> Let your eyes roam over her. <b>[EXPLICIT]</b></div>' 'letyoureyesroamoverher'>><</link>><</if>><</if>> <<if $attractedto is not "men">><<if not hasVisited("areyousurewecantbemoreprihine")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Are you sure we can\'t be more?"</div>' 'areyousurewecantbemoreprihine'>><<set $prihineromanceflag += 1>><</link>><</if>><</if>> <<if $attractedto is not "men">><<link '<div class="flirt-item">"Come here. Of course I want you..."</div>' 'comehereprihineofcourseiwantyou'>><<set $prihineromance to true>><<set $prihinestatus to "You shared a single night of passion together.">><</link>><</if>> <<if $attractedto is not "men">><<link '<div class="brokenheart-item">"I\'m sorry. This is all happening too fast for me... Can I have some time to think about it?"</div>' 'imsorrythisisallhappeningtoofastformeprihine'>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($aroace is true or $ace is true) and $attractedto is not "men">><<link '<div class="brokenheart-item">"Prihine, I do have feelings for you, but not exactly in that way... I\'m not interested in sex."</div>' 'prihineihavefeelingsbutnotsex'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $attractedto is "men">><<link '<div class="brokenheart-item">"Um... I\'m not attracted to women..."</div>' 'umprihineimnotattractedtowomen'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="brokenheart-item">"I\'m sorry, but I just don\'t feel that way about you."</div>' 'imsorryprihineidontfeelthatwayaboutyou'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="brokenheart-item">"Are you insane? You were awful to me. There\'s no way I could ever be attracted to you."</div>' 'areyouinsaneyouwereawfultome'>><</link>> </ul>

You sit up straight in your bed and allow your eyes to glide over Prihine's naked body; she shivers as if your very gaze was a caress. You look at her from her slim, pale shoulders to the triangle of shadow at her throat; at her soft, small breasts, her nipples pert and pebbled against the cold, down to her narrow hips and the small trim patch of dainty hair between her legs. Her thighs are trembling a little, though whether it's from nervousness, apprehension, or want, you can't tell. Prihine swallows, flexes her hands, and then croaks: "Well?" <<include "damnprihine">>

<<nobr>><<achieve "achieve_prihine">><<notify_achievement "Pretty and Prihine" "Spent a night with Prihine Naveen.">><</nobr>>For just the barest, briefest instant, Prihine's face breaks into a relieved smile. Then she's hopping on top of your lap, pulling aside your blankets, and then the two of you are sinking into a long and blissful dream… one full of dampness and heat, tight coils of pleasure and sharp, stifled gasps… a dream that repeats itself several times over that night. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "damnprihinei">><</link>></center>

In the morning, Prihine kisses you one last time and slips away. Unspoken between the two of you is the understanding that she won't be back, and that what you just experienced is not something that she will repeat: she's a high-born lady and you are the Diminished officer who arrested and eventually had her husband killed. In the world that exists now, such a relationship cannot exist; the only evidence you'll carry of this attraction will be the wordless memories of last night. And because not even her scent on the pillows linger, half of you wonders—as you recline back and fall into an exhausted slumber—if any of it ever even really happened at all… <<page_break "End Chapter" "endchapter2">>

Prihine grimaces, her arms coming up to cross protectively over her chest as she grips her shoulders. "No," she says softly, adamantly. "I don't want anymore than this. Not now." She looks away. "Maybe in another world." <<include "damnprihine">>

This is, apparently, the wrong thing to say, because a flush shoots up Prihine's neck in an instant—and then in the next, she's seizing her clothes and shoving them on. "Don't bother," she hisses at you, flinging the door open. "I'm sorry to impose so <i>suddenly</i>." In a whirl of skirts and perfume, she's gone… and from her furious, offended expression, you can guess she won't be back anytime soon… <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "endchapter2">><</link>></center>

For a few instants, Prihine opens her mouth as if to yell at you, her expression as angry as it usually was in the past; but then your words seem to sink in, and then she looks down at her feet as if she doesn't know what to say or feel. Slowly, she begins to put her clothes back on—then moves with an increasingly-hurried pace. "I'm sorry," she mutters after a moment, not looking at you—the first time you've ever heard her apologize to anyone. "I shouldn't have assumed… This… this was a mistake. I didn't mean…" She stops talking. Now fully dressed, she flings open the door and is gone in the next moment, a whirl of skirts and perfume… and from her humiliated, confused expression, you can guess she won't be back anytime soon… <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "endchapter2">><</link>></center>

The color completely drains from Prihine's face. "You're…" She blinks rapidly, more at a loss for words than you've ever seen her. Protectively, her arms come up to cover her chest. "You're—but… you saved me. You… did all of those things…" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I\'m sorry if you misinterpreted my actions."' 'umprihinei'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I would have done those things for anybody."' 'umprihinei'>><<setcompassionate +2>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"It\'s all right. I can see why you might have thought that..."' 'umprihinei'>><<setcompassionate +2>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I did... but I\'m still only into men..."' 'umprihinei'>><</link>></li> </ul>

For a few instants, Prihine opens her mouth as if to yell at you, her expression as angry as it usually was in the past; but then your words seem to sink in, and then she looks down at her feet as if she doesn't know what to say or feel. Slowly, she begins to put her clothes back on, then with an increasingly-hurried pace as embarrassment sets in. "I'm sorry," she mutters after a moment, not looking at you—the first time you've ever heard her apologize to anyone. "I shouldn't have…" She shakes her head. "This… this was a mistake." Now fully dressed, she flings open the door and is gone in the next moment, a whirl of skirts and perfume… and from her humiliated, confused expression, you can guess she won't be back anytime soon… <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "endchapter2">><</link>></center>

Prihine's mouth presses together in a pursed look of hurt. "But you…" She trails off for a moment, uncharacteristically at a loss for words. Protectively, her arms come up to cover her chest. "You saved me. You… did all of these things…" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I\'m sorry if you misinterpreted my actions."' 'umprihineii'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I would have done those things for anybody."' 'umprihineii'>><<setcompassionate +2>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"It\'s all right. I can see why you might have thought that..."' 'umprihineii'>><<setcompassionate +2>><</link>></li> </ul>

For a few instants, Prihine opens her mouth as if to yell at you, her expression as angry as it usually was in the past; but then your words seem to sink in, and then she looks down at her feet as if she doesn't know what to say or feel. Slowly, she begins to put her clothes back on, then with an increasingly-hurried pace as embarrassment sets in. "I'm sorry," she mutters after a moment, not looking at you—the first time you've ever heard her apologize to anyone. "This… this was a mistake." Now fully dressed, she flings open the door and is gone in the next moment, a whirl of skirts and perfume… and from her hurt, confused expression, you can guess she won't be back anytime soon… <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "endchapter2">><</link>></center>

Prihine's eyes flare with anger, betrayal, and hurt; two red spots appear high on her cheekbones, and she instantly surges towards her clothes, shoves them on, and slams out the door without allowing you to say another word. The look she tosses back over her shoulder before she leaves is nothing short of vicious. Then she's gone. You sink back against your pillows, feeling drained. Did that really just happen? Even in the morning, after a good night's rest, it almost feels as if it were all a dream… <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "endchapter2">><</link>></center>

<div class="box"><span class="endchaptersummary"> <center><span class="heading">Chapter Summary</span></center> <br> <span class="bulleticon"><span class="fas fa-chevron-right"></span></span>&emsp; Black Sun, an insidious drug, began to creep through the streets of Haven. You discovered that an addicted recruit, Benir Roxak, was planning to slip the drug into the infirmary's supplies. <<if $benir>>You decided to send him to a clinic to recover from his addiction, then return to the Order. <<elseif $benirsabotage>> You showed mercy by allowing him to keep his position at the Order. <<else>>He was ejected from the Order and thrown out. <</if>> <br><br><span class="bulleticon"><span class="fas fa-chevron-right"></span></span>&emsp; Later, a thief named Chase Trinaeste stole your sun medallion during a distracting raid on Merchants Guild caravans. <<if $followedriel>>You decided to report this theft to the leader of the Merchants Guild, Riel Syndran. <<elseif $followedchase>> You decided to pursue the thief back to his headquarters, meeting the crew of the Thieves Guild in the process. <</if>> <br><br><span class="bulleticon"><span class="fas fa-chevron-right"></span></span>&emsp; After some commotion, you discovered that the heart of the conflict between Merchants Guild and Thieves Guild was centered around Black Sun. To put an end to the drug, you decided to <<if $rielinvestigation>> investigate with Riel and the Merchants Guild, infiltrating a party at the Trade Minister's mansion. <<if $prihinesafe or $bothsafe>> Prihine, your former charge, aided you in your mission. <</if>> <<elseif $chaseinvestigation>> investigate with Chase and the Thieves Guild, infiltrating a secret factory that was manufacturing Black Sun. <</if>> <br><br><span class="bulleticon"><span class="fas fa-chevron-right"></span></span>&emsp; There, you discovered that a Faceless Lord, Clochus, was behind the drug, distributing it en masse in order to feed off of the catatonia and sloth it induced in its victims. <<if $clochusdead>> You slew Clochus and ended its existence permanently. <<elseif $clochusalive>> You were unable to slay the Faceless Lord, and Clochus escaped into the night. However, its Black Sun operation was dismantled. <<else>> You managed to banish the Faceless Lord back to Hael. <</if>> <br><br><span class="bulleticon"><span class="fas fa-chevron-right"></span></span>&emsp; As a gesture of cooperation and thanks, both Merchants Guild and Thieves Guild have decided to ally themselves with the Shepherds. <<if $prihineromance is true>><br><br><span class="bulleticon"><span class="fas fa-chevron-right"></span></span>&emsp; You spent a passionate night with Prihine, although she stated it could be no more than that. <</if>> </span><span class="endchaptersummary2"></span></div> <br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "endchapter2levelup">><<set $part to 3>><<set $health to 100>><<set $gold += 100>><<set $resources += 2>><<if $clochusalive is true>><<set $shepherdgold += 500>><<else>><<set $shepherdgold += 2000>><</if>><<set $thievesjoin to true>><<set $merchantsjoin to true>><<set $chasejoin to true>><<set $rieljoin to true>><<set $numberofshepherds += 2>><<if $halfname is "recruit">><<set $halfname to $firstname>><</if>><<set $clothes to "the crisp, black-and-silver-threaded uniform of the Shepherds, the rampant hound shining proudly on your chest">><<if $rielinvestigation is true and $clochusdead is true>><<set $rielstatus to "Although he plays his cards close to the chest, he was clearly impressed by your performance at the Trade Minister's gala.">><</if>><<if $chaseinvestigation is true and $chase gte 40>><<set $chasestatus to "There seems to be more to him than meets the eye. He finds himself intrigued by you.">><</if>><</link>></center>

<<unset $zilka>> <<unset $courtesanknow>> <<unset $dontknowebert>> <<unset $disguise>> <<unset $prihineknows>> <<unset $prihineknows1>> <<unset $zilkasus>> <<unset $artpiece>> <<unset $zilkaushala>> <<unset $amantialike>> <<unset $priestsus>> <<unset $boys>> <<unset $clochushealth>> <<unset $prihinefavor>> <<unset $turtihates>> <<achieve "achieve_rieljoin">> <<achieve "achieve_chasejoin">> <div class="box"><span class="column-icon"><span class="endchaptericon"><i class="fas fa-coins"></i></span></span><span class="column-2"><span class="heading">Gold</span><br>You gained 100 deucalions as part of your Shepherd's pay.</span></div> <div class="box"><span class="column-icon"><span class="endchaptericon"><i class="fas fa-trophy"></i></span></span><span class="column-2"><span class="heading">Achievements</span><br>You unlocked two new <span class="entrylink">[[achievements|Achievements]]</span>: <b>The Thief Lord</b> and <b>The Merchant Prince</b>.</span></div> <div class="box"><span class="column-icon"><span class="endchaptericon"><i class="fas fa-book-open"></i></span></span><span class="column-2"><span class="heading">Codex</span><br>A <span class="entrylink">[[codex|Documents]]</span> document has been updated: <b><i class="fas fa-book-dead"></i> <i>The Faceless Lords.</i></b></span></div> <div class="box"><span class="column-icon"><span class="endchaptericon"><i class="fas fa-heart"></i></span></span><span class="column-2"><span class="heading">Relationships</span><br>New companions have been added to your <span class="entrylink">[[relationships|Relationships]]</span> page.</span></div> <div class="box"><span class="column-icon"><span class="endchaptericon"><i class="fas fa-first-aid"></i></span></span><span class="column-2"><span class="heading">Health</span><br>Your health has been fully restored.</span></div> <<page_break "Proceed to Next Chapter" "startchapter3">>

<<nobr>> <<if settings.music is true>><<audio "candleday" volume 0.1 play>> <</if>> <<fadein 10s>> <<fadeout 5s 8s>><div class="chapterlogo"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/logos/chaptercroplogo.png" alt="Shepherds of Haven"><center><span class="chapterglow">Chapter Three</span></center></div><</fadeout>> <</fadein>><</nobr>> <<timed 13s>><<goto "chapter3begin">><</timed>><span class="next">[[Next|chapter3begin]]</span>

<<nobr>><<set $charmfor to "">> <<set $wood to "">> <<set $flowers to "">> <span class="splash">Several Weeks Later</span><span class="splashblur"></span><</nobr>>The days pass. Autumn ripens into late fall; the white streets of Haven turn chilly and grey, and when you get up in the mornings to train, the air now has a frigid bite that rasps against your lungs. Candle Day comes: a religious holiday, though it's become popular to return to its more pagan roots when celebrating it. Traditionally, people will weave talismans and charms for a loved one or a friend on Candle Day, selecting wood and flowers and shaping it all into complex patterns with their own special meanings. Do you celebrate Candle Day? <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Yes.' 'candleday'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'No.' 'rielbirthday'>><</link>></li> </ul>

You remember celebrating Candle Day with your family; your mother teaching you how to weave the right meanings into your charms while your father went off foraging for the proper wood and flora to make them. Sometimes he even trespassed on reserved woodlands to obtain the materials, though he winked and bid you not to tell your mother that every year. You decide to make a talisman for… <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Blade.' 'candledayi'>><<if $gender is "female">><<set $bladeromanceflag += 1>><</if>><<setblade +3>><<set $charmfor to "blade">><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Trouble.' 'candledayi'>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 1>><<settrouble +3>><<set $charmfor to "trouble">><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Tallys.' 'candledayi'>><<set $tallysromanceflag += 1>><<settallys +3>><<set $charmfor to "tallys">><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Shery.' 'candledayi'>><<if $gender is "female">><<set $sheryromanceflag += 1>><</if>><<setshery +3>><<set $charmfor to "shery">><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Chase.' 'candledayi'>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>><<setchase +3>><<set $charmfor to "chase">><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Riel.' 'candledayi'>><<if $gender is "male">><<set $rielromanceflag += 1>><</if>><<setriel +3>><<set $charmfor to "riel">><</link>></li> </ul>

Your charm will be woven out thin, flexible strands of wood to form a small wreath, which will be hung around the neck as a pendant or around the wrist. Some people even hang them over their hearths, or tie them to their packs and saddlebags to safeguard their travels. Each type of wood has its own special meaning, which some people will recognize and others will not. For your charm for <<c charmfor>>, you select… <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Hawthorne, for protection.' 'candledayii'>><<set $wood to "hawthorne">><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Oak, for long life.' 'candledayii'>><<set $wood to "oak">><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Holly, for good luck.' 'candledayii'>><<set $wood to "holly">><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Dogwood, for stability and peace.' 'candledayii'>><<set $wood to "dogwood">><</link>></li> </ul>

You smile with satisfaction as you patiently weave the talisman together. Next, you need flowers to thread through it, both for decoration and for an added layer of fortune and meaning. You pick… <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Valerian, for health (and fertility).' 'candledayiii'>><<set $flowers to "valerian">><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Chrysanthemums, for long life. ' 'candledayiii'>><<set $flowers to "chrysanthemum">><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Gardenias, for joy and happiness (and secret admiration).' 'candledayiii'>><<set $flowers to "gardenia">><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Larkspur, for laughter.' 'candledayiii'>><<set $flowers to "larkspur">><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Peonies, for wealth and prosperity.' 'candledayiii'>><<set $flowers to "peony">><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Snapdragons, for protection against danger.' 'candledayiii'>><<set $flowers to "snapdragon">><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Roses, for romance or luck in romantic affairs.' 'candledayiii'>><<set $flowers to "rose">><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Alstroemeria, for good luck and fortune.' 'candledayiii'>><<set $flowers to "alstroemeria">><</link>></li> </ul>

<<if $charmfor is "blade">> <<include "bladecandle">> <<elseif $charmfor is "trouble">> <<include "troublecandle">> <<elseif $charmfor is "tallys">> <<include "tallyscandle">> <<elseif $charmfor is "shery">> <<include "sherycandle">> <<elseif $charmfor is "chase">> <<include "chasecandle">> <<elseif $charmfor is "riel">> <<include "rielcandle">> <</if>>

Blade smiles when he sees you producing the talisman from your pocket. "Thank you," he says quietly, holding up the charm to the light and admiring it. The smile that plays around the corner of his mouth is faint, but the look he gives you with his dark eyes is warmer than his usual stony, assessing stare. "I… ended up making one for you, as well." He gives you the talisman he wove for you: a methodical and rather plain circle of hawthorne, for protection, and gardenias for joy. He coughs in an embarrassed way and adds, "I've never made one before, so I had to ask Tallys about the meanings. I hope it serves you well." <<nobr>> <<if $bladeromanceflag gte 5>> <br><br> You smile. "Thank you, Blade." <br><br> He stares at your smile for a long, silent moment before you look up and catch his eye. Then Blade coughs again and nods. "Goodbye." He turns on his heel and walks away. <</if>><</nobr>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "candledayendi">><<setfaith +3>><<if $wood is "dogwood" or $wood is "hawthorne">><<setblade +1>><</if>><<if $flowers is "valerian" or $flowers is "snapdragon">><<setblade +1>><</if>><<set $charmfrom to "blade">><<set $charm to "A Plain Charm Made from Hawthorne and Gardenias">><</link>></center>

Trouble grins when you hand him his talisman. "Great," he exclaims, "I was hoping to get one from you! Thanks, <<c firstname>>." He gives you a sheepish grin as he draws something from his pocket: his own talisman that he crafted for you, a crude and clumsy wreath of holly, for good luck, and snapdragons, for protection from danger. "Reckon it'll keep you safe in the field," Trouble says proudly as you examine the talisman. You look up and catch his eye, and he scratches his head ruefully. "…Well, you'll have me to do that, but one more thing couldn't hurt." <<nobr>> <<if $troubleromanceflag gte 5>> <br><br> …Is that a blush on his cheeks, or are you just imagining it? <</if>><</nobr>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "candledayendi">><<setfaith +3>><<if $wood is "hawthorne" or $wood is "holly">><<settrouble +1>><</if>><<if $flowers is "larkspur" or $flowers is "chrysanthemum">><<settrouble +1>><</if>><<set $charmfrom to "trouble">><<set $charm to "A Crude Talisman Constructed from Holly and Snapdragons">><</link>></center>

Tallys smiles and raises a pleasantly-surprised eyebrow when you offer her the talisman you made. "I'm touched," the Elf says without sarcasm, accepting it graciously. <<nobr>> <<if $wood is "oak" or $flowers is "chrysanthemum">> <br><br> Then she arches a brow at your design. "Though I believe I have already been blessed with long life, being an Elf—but I appreciate the gesture nonetheless." She turns and draws something out of her own pocket. <</if>><</nobr>> "I made you one as well." She shows you the incredible charm she wove for you: a perfectly-crafted wreath of oak, for long life, and heather, for admiration—or solitude? Tallys smiles cryptically as you ponder over her talisman choices. "Happy Candle Day, <<c firstname>>," is all she says, <<nobr>><<if $tallyssex is true>> leaning in to kiss you softly on the cheek when she's sure no one's watching. <<else>> smiling contentedly down at the charm you gave her. <</if>><</nobr>> "May the gods watch over us both." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "candledayendi">><<setfaith +3>><<if $wood is "dogwood" or $wood is "holly">><<settallys +1>><</if>><<if $flowers is "gardenia" or $flowers is "chrysanthemum">><<settallys +1>><</if>><<if $flowers is "rose" or $flowers is "gardenia">><<set $tallysromanceflag += 1>><</if>><<set $charmfrom to "tallys">><<set $charm to "A Perfectly-Made Talisman Woven from Oak and Heather">><</link>></center>

Shery gasps when she sees you offering her the woven charm. "Oh, it's beautiful, <<c firstname>>!" she exclaims—then blushes when she realizes she's forgotten herself. <<nobr>><<if $flowers is "rose" or $flowers is "gardenia">> Then she catches sight of the flowers you've chosen for the occasion and blushes even harder: she clearly knows their secret meanings, though she doesn't seem sure if you do. <</if>><</nobr>> "Th-thank you! I'm so happy!" She buries her face in the flowers of your wreath before murmuring in a muffled tone: "I… I made you a charm as well, if that's all right with you!" She sticks out a hand in an embarrassed way and thrusts the charm at you. You take it: it's a delicate, sweet token made from daffodils, for admiration and high regard, and juniper, for keeping one safe from danger. "I hope you like it!" Shery blurts. "I hope you'll keep it with you—it will be my way of protecting you, the way you've been protecting all of us!" Then, beet-red, she hurries away before you even get the chance to thank her. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "candledayendi">><<setfaith +3>><<if $wood is "dogwood" or $wood is "holly">><<setshery +1>><</if>><<if $flowers is "valerian" or $flowers is "larkspur">><<setshery +1>><</if>><<if $flowers is "rose" or $flowers is "gardenia">><<if $gender is "female">><<set $sheryromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</if>><<set $charmfrom to "shery">><<set $charm to "A Delicate Talisman Crafted from Juniper and Daffodils">><</link>></center>

Chase blinks down at the talisman you give him—then his face cracks into a wide, bright smile. "Well, thanks, sunshine," he says, sounding both amused and a bit perplexed. "You know, I gave it my best shot for yours, too—but I've never made one before, so it might look… unique." He's right: the charm Chase wove for you seems to be made from an indeterminable wood, with flowers you've never seen before. "What are these?" you ask him. Chase shrugs with a carefree grin. "No idea. I saw 'em and they looked pretty, so I used them." "Saw them <i>where</i>?" He's already cartwheeling away. "Can't remember. Thanks again for the charm, I'm keeping it forever!" <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "candledayendi">><<setfaith +3>><<if $wood is "hawthorne" or $wood is "holly">><<setchase +1>><</if>><<if $flowers is "alstroemeria" or $flowers is "peony">><<setchase +1>><</if>><<set $charmfrom to "chase">><<set $charm to "A Strange-looking Talisman Made of... Something">><</link>></center>

"Oh, <<c firstname>>," Riel says, sounding a bit surprised when you offer him the talisman. "…I'm… grateful, of course. Thank you. This isn't a tradition I practice, but…" He hesitates, then admits: "I guessed you might give me something like this, but then doubted myself again afterward. Therefore, I only had time to make a practice version. Again, I've never made anything like this before." Of course the talisman he produces for you is perfect and impeccably neat. It's made from ash wood, which symbolizes an indomitable spirit, and goldenrod, which means victory in all things. "I chose those for you based on my research into ancient Elvish texts, which is where the tradition originally stems from," Riel explains. "In the olden days…" <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "rielcandlei">><<setfaith +3>><<if $wood is "oak" or $wood is "dogwood">><<setriel +1>><</if>><<if $flowers is "peony" or $flowers is "alstroemeria">><<setriel +1>><</if>><<if $flowers is "rose" or $flowers is "gardenia">><<if $gender is "male">><<set $rielromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</if>><<set $charmfrom to "riel">><<set $charm to "A Neat Charm Made with Laquered Ash Wood and Goldenrod">><</link>></center>

He spends quite some time laying out the history of Candle Day and its customs to you before stopping to take a breath. "Oh. I'm sorry. I do get carried away…" <<nobr>> <<if $flowers is "peony">> <br><br> He smiles when he notices the flowers you chose for him. "Wealth," he notes, regarding your peonies. "You know me well." <br><br> Then he looks up and catches your eye again. "I hope to come to know you better as time goes on." <<elseif $flowers is "rose" or $flowers is "gardenia">> If he notices the more romantic undertones of the flowers you chose for him, he chooses not to say. <</if>><</nobr>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "candledayendi">><</link>></center>

<<notify_codex_culture "Candle Day Talismans">>You spend the rest of Candle Day preparing for the night's feast and celebrating the holiday with your friends. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "rielbirthday">><</link>></center>

<span class="splash">A Few Days Later</span><span class="splashblur"></span> It's Riel's birthday today. Would you like to spend time with him? <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Yes.' 'rielbirthday2'>><<setchase +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'No.' 'thedaysgrowchillier'>><</link>></li> </ul>

<<nobr>><<if settings.music is true>><<audio ":playing" fadeoverto 5 0>><</if>><</nobr>>The days grow chillier and chillier. <<nobr>><<if $cainejoin is true>> You watch Caine crunching through the bright, colorful leaves, <<if $childrenquarantined is true>> shouting with the other children as he directs them in made-up games. <<else>> cheerfully hauling supplies for Shery. <</if>> <</if>><</nobr>> Although busy with their respective guilds, Riel and Chase begin spending more and more time at the Shepherds' compound, eventually being given their own rooms to stay in when it grows too late to make the trek back to their respective guildhalls. The refectory steams with the breaths and collective warmth of recruits, both old and new. Slowly but steadily, your Order is growing. One day Blade comes to you, pensive. "The Autarch has asked me to go to the Reach," he tells you. "It's a long journey. I'd like to take you with me." You raise your eyebrows. The Reach is a ridge of mountains far to the northwest: a stark, harsh place that conceals the Hunters' ancestral home, Uth Baryd. Uth Baryd was once their capital, their enclave to retreat to and train their young in their secretive exorcist arts. During the Castigation it was emptied, with the Hunters being scattered across Blest—and then, after several political rebellions, the Autarchy designated it a place of exile, to banish the rebel Hunters back to so their society could wane in isolation, cut off from all contact with the outside world except what the Autarch allowed. A homeland turned into a prison, a vast nature preserve with ironbound walls. You've heard it's a daunting, foreboding place, usually barred to outsiders. "Why does the Autarch want to send us there?" you ask him. "If there are Endarkened, surely the residents of the Reach can handle it themselves. They're Hunters, after all." Blade shakes his head; he doesn't look entirely sure, himself. "They've stopped communicating with the outside world," he answers. "The Autarch wants us to investigate why." At your skeptical look, he adds, "Remember that the Shepherds are not just demon-fighters. We are a bridge between the Autarchy and the Diminished, representatives and protectors of both worlds. It will be better-received if Haven sends us rather than Inquisitors—or Vice Guards. And if there is a supernatural reason for their silence, we will be responsible for solving it." You shrug; you can't really argue against that. "I'll pack my bags, then." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "hunterintroi">><</link>></center>

Riel smiles as you approach him: he's serendipitously made the trip to the Shepherds' compound today. "How did you know?" he asks, amused. "I generally keep it a secret: did Aerin tell you?" You tap your nose. "I have my ways." He inclines his head. "You must have a formidable spy network—one to rival even mine." Then he smiles at you and bows slightly in invitation. "Would you like to have tea?" You spend a little time with him, sitting in the courtyard and having tea on a white linen table and grazing on a plate of sugared pastries. Some of the others drift in and out: Shery joins you, Trouble and Chase drop by to make a ruckus, Tallys gives Riel a flower and Blade a friendly nod. At one point in the afternoon, you find yourselves alone again as Shery goes to refill the pot. This would be a good time to give Riel a gift… Will you give him something? <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Yes.' 'rielgift'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'No.' 'rielbdayfinish'>><</link>></li> </ul>

You'll give him… <ul class="choices"> <<if $tallysgift is true>><li><<link 'The potted plant.' 'plantrielgift'>><<setriel +1>><<set $tallysgift to false>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $halekgift is true>><li><<link 'The cookbook.' 'cookbookrielgift'>><<set $halekgift to false>><<setriel -1>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $redgift is true>><li><<link 'The tome about other worlds.' 'tomegiftriel'>><<set $redgift to false>><<setriel +3>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $aylagift is true>><li><<link 'The map of Blest.' 'mapgiftriel'>><<set $aylagift to false>><<setriel +1>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $rielgift is true>><li><<link 'The toolset.' 'toolsetrielgift'>><<set $rielgift to false>><<setriel +10>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $troublegift is true>><li><<link 'The model of the airship.' 'airshipgiftriel'>><<set $troublegift to false>><<setriel +1>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $bladegift is true>><li><<link 'The strange dagger.' 'daggergiftriel'>><<set $bladegift to false>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $sherygift is true>><li><<link 'The heart-shaped necklace.' 'necklacegiftriel'>><<set $sherygift to false>><<setriel -3>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $brionygift is true>><li><<link 'The painting set.' 'paintinggiftriel'>><<set $brionygift to false>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $chasegift is true>><li><<link 'The flashy scarf.' 'scarfgiftriel'>><<set $chasegift to false>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $lavinetgift is true>><li><<link 'The ornate hairpin.' 'hairpingiftriel'>><<setriel -1>><<set $lavinetgift to false>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $falsegift is true>><li><<link 'The crystal orb.' 'orbgiftriel'>><<set $falsegift to false>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $flowergift is true>><li><<link 'The bouquet of flowers.' 'flowergiftriel'>><<setriel +1>><<set $flowergift to false>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $gold gte 1>><li><<link 'Some money.' 'somegoldgiftriel'>><</link>></li><</if>> </ul>

Riel smiles. "Thank you, <<c firstname>>. This will look very handsome on my desk." <<include "rielbdayfinish">>

Riel's face gives nothing away as he politely accepts the book. "Thank you," he says gravely. "I'll make good use of this." <<include "rielbdayfinish">>

Riel's eyes light up with interest. "Thank you, <<c firstname>>," he says with genuine pleasure. "This is a rare copy! And with such a fascinating subject matter—it could revolutionize how we conceive of the planar arithmetics…" <<include "rielbdayfinish">>

Riel nods and smiles. "Thank you for this; I always enjoy looking at maps." <<include "rielbdayfinish">>

Riel gives you a ghostly smile. "Thank you, <<c firstname>>," he says with genuine pleasure. "This is just what I was wanting. It's a thoughtful choice; I thank you." He's examining the toolset greedily, eyes gleaming with interest. "I'll put it to good use." You smile. "Happy birthday, Riel." <<include "rielbdayfinish">>

Riel's eyes light with interest. "This is interesting," he says, taking the item. "And I've been reading up on airship technology of late. Thank you, <<c firstname>>." <<include "rielbdayfinish">>

Riel accepts the gift politely. "Thank you," he says gravely. "This will make a fine display on my wall." <<include "rielbdayfinish">>

Riel can't conceal his distaste for the gift, but he accepts it without comment. "Thank you, <<c firstname>>," he intones, a bit dryly. <<include "rielbdayfinish">>

Riel inclines his head in thanks. "Thank you," he says. "I seem to lack artistic talent, but perhaps this will change that." <<include "rielbdayfinish">>

Riel accepts the gift with his usual grave politeness. "Thank you," he says seriously. "I will treasure this." <<include "rielbdayfinish">>

Riel snorts a little when you hand it to him, but he seems to acknowledge the fine craftsmanship of the hairpin. <<include "rielbdayfinish">>

Riel looks curious about the gift, but simply thanks you and tucks it away without comment. <<include "rielbdayfinish">>

Riel accepts the flowers graciously. "Thank you," he says contentedly. "I'll keep these in my office." <<include "rielbdayfinish">>

Riel looks a bit startled—and perhaps horrified—by your offer. "Please, do not," he insists. "In fact, it's I who should be treating you—so let's have dinner at my favorite restaurant sometime, to celebrate. That will be a gift enough." <<include "rielbdayfinish">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "rielbdayfinishi">><</link>></center>

You spent some time with Riel on his birthday! <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "hunterintro">><</link>></center>

You have one day off before you set off on your journey. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "dayoff">><<if settings.music is true>><<audio ":playing" fadeout>><</if>><</link>></center>

The night before your journey begins, you survey the things you've managed to pack. You're only bringing along a saddlebag and a knapsack, but a handy compartment spell has made it so that you can fit much more than you should be able to. But it's been a long time since you've been on the road—a long time since you came to Haven, you think with surprise—and your traveler's sense is a little rusty. It's hard to gauge what you'll need on your way to the Reach. You stand in the middle of your room and debate. Should you bring an extra water skin or an extra blanket? <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'I\'ll bring an extra water skin.' 'dayoffoverii'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'I\'ll bring an extra blanket.' 'dayoffoverii'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Why not both?' 'dayoffoverii'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

You shake your head: suddenly it feels hard to concentrate. You can feel the beginnings of a headache coming on, the red and sickly feeling throbbing at the back of your skull. Shery pokes her head in to see if she can bring you any other supplies and notes your furrowed expression. "Maybe you should lie down," she suggests, looking around at the things scattered around your room. "Get some rest. The Commander likes to leave at the crack of dawn—do you want me to bring you some of Tallys' lysselberry tea?" You shake your head, feeling as if you're looking at Shery through a bank of fog. "I'll be fine," you mutter. "Maybe you're right. I just need to lie down." You don't even remember stumbling to your bed, flinging yourself down onto it despite the heaps of clothes and scattered objects. You only remember your head touching your pillow, your vision spinning crazily, and then— You're gone. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "dayoffoveriii">><</link>></center>

When you open your eyes again, a familiar scene is laid out before you. There's the dying, silent god, lying bloodied at your feet. Behind you is that same presence as before, both familiar and alien at once, its gaze like a white-hot beam of sunlight on the back of your neck. No matter how much you may want to, you can't seem to wrench your head around and look at it—to see who it really is. The voice—or multitude of voices—resumes speaking, as if it had never been interrupted at all. "Tapyt must die," it repeats. "And he must die now, before he can recover his full strength. A god will not stay fallen for long." You find yourself speaking, though the words and thoughts aren't yours. "But if he dies, we die," you say. Your voice sounds muffled to your own ears, as if you're speaking from underwater. "The power it takes to kill a god will also destroy the one who wields it. And he is still a part of our whole. We will annihilate ourselves." There's a long pause. "The sacrifice is worth it," the voice finally says. "Consider the Children. The World that has been Made. It cannot be subjected to the wiles of Tapyt any longer." "The World needs us," you object. "If we are gone, it will fall into ruin just the same." More silence, so long that you wonder if you have been left alone. At your feet, the dark god makes a gurgling sound—a noise of pain or laughter, you can't tell. "There is another way," the voice behind you admits finally, with a metallic timbre of resignation. "One that does not involve killing, or dying." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "dayoffoveriv">><</link>></center>

The world shifts around you. The blood roars in your head, and the air around you turns grey and shimmering, with an iridescent film like soapy bathwater. Slowly, a kind of crease begins to form in the space in front of you, a jagged fissure in the air. Something about it defies the eye. It is not a shape to be found in nature—it is not a color of this earth. The fissure twists and snags like a tangle of guts. Your own stomach turns, and finally Tapyt at your feet lets loose a helpless scream that makes your skull vibrate like a struck gong. "There is banishment," the voice behind you says heavily. "We can seal the Cursed One away into the Void—exile him and his Children from this plane. The effort will drain us—we will need to sleep, for a long, long time—but it will not kill us." A pause. "But it will also not kill him." You can barely think; you feel dizzied by the otherworldly energies surging around the rift, the shifting of realities that has created this thing, this Void. "Let us send him there, then," you manage to say. "Let us seal him away from bright Blest and cast him into the Darkness he so loves. And let us take our rest." The voice behind you turns ominously dark. "But while we sleep, he will plot his escape," it warns. "He may return to torment our Children once again. And we do not know when we will wake up." It hesitates. "Or if we ever will." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>"Wake up, <<c firstname>>! <i>Wake up!</i>"</span></div></div>' "dayoffoverv">><</link>></center>

You jerk awake just as someone shakes you and calls your name again. You sit up with a gasp, and a dozen details rush you at once, clamoring for attention. For one thing, your face is wet—have you been crying in your sleep, you wonder? There's a tight, shallow feeling in your chest, as if someone has seized hold of your heart and squeezed it into some awkward shape. Your breathing is labored. And you're aware of the aching feeling of loss—as if someone close to you has died. But you shake your head. You don't <i>know</i> any of the people in your dreams, so no, no one has died. You don't even know if they're real. Do you? Suddenly you notice that you're not alone. Your room is utterly dark (<i>who turned out the lights</i>?), but Shery is standing in the threshold of the doorway, holding a candle and looking frightened. Blade and Trouble and Tallys are standing over you, their figures casting monstrous shadows on the walls. Trouble has you gripped by the shoulders, and Tallys is holding an empty cup in her hand. She dashed you in the face with water, you realize. "You were crying out in your sleep," Blade says quietly. "Are you all right?" Trouble finally releases you. "Crying out? More like screaming your bloody head off!" he exclaims. "You shouted like the very whores of Tapyt were after you!" You shudder. Shery steps closer with her candle and says timidly, "You passed out—I've been checking on you intermittently, but—" Trouble cuts in, "Are you prone to night terrors, <<c firstname>>?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I\'m fine. It was just a nightmare."' 'imfineitwasnightmareday'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"That was no night terror..."' 'thatwasnonightterrorday'>><</link>></li> </ul>

The others all exchange glances. "That was no mere nightmare," Tallys says firmly. "You lashed out with your magic in your sleep, <<c firstname>>. All of the lights in the compound went out—every flame snuffed, every globe shattered." You stare. "<i>I</i> didn't do that." Such accidents are known to happen in very young children with powerful magical ability, but it's been years since anything like that has happened to you. More, you would have felt the aftereffects of such a thing—but now you only feel clammy and shaken. Trouble looks uneasy. "And the wards went off, too," he says. "For just a moment. And when we came in…" You look up at him. "What?" Trouble hesitates. Blade says seriously, "There were shadows on the walls. Watching you." "Or maybe one big shadow," Shery murmurs. "We're not sure." <<include "nightmareee">>

You shakily thank Blade as he passes you a glass of water. Wiping at your bleary eyes, you say, "It felt real. I saw something… something terrible." "A vision?" Blade asks keenly. You shake your head. "I don't know. Usually the visions that come from scrying and divination are distant, in the third-person—but this felt like I had really been a part of what I saw." "And what did you see?" You can only shake your head. Already the scene is fading from your mind. The others all exchange glances. "All the lights in the compound went out as you screamed," Tallys tells you. "Every flame snuffed, every globe shattered." "And the wards went off," Trouble adds, running a hand through his hair. "For just a moment. And when we came in…" You look up at him. "What?" Trouble hesitates. Blade says seriously, "There were shadows on the walls. Watching you." "Or maybe one big shadow," Shery murmurs. "We're not sure." <<include "nightmareee">>

You look around, but the walls are dark and blank, as they've always been. Blade, watching you, says, "Have you been visited by a demon?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Of course not!"' 'ofcoursenotnightmareee'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'m not sure..."' 'imnotsurenightmareee'>><</link>></li> </ul>

"Then what was it?" he asks. "If you have any inkling, we should know. Have you had anything like this happen to you before?" <<include "thetruth">>

The others all exchange nervous looks again as Blade's expression turns serious. He looks down at you keenly and says, "Has anything like this happened to you before?" <<include "thetruth">>

Do you tell them the truth about your other visions—and the mysterious powers you've been gifted along with them? Do you tell them the truth about your past? <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'No, my secrets are my own.' 'nomysecretsaremyowntruth'>><<setcunning +5>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setloyal -15>><<setblade -3>><<setshery -3>><<settallys -3>><<settrouble -3>><<setorder -3>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Yes, it\'s time to tell the Shepherds what I know.' 'yesitstimetotellshepherdswhatiknowtruth'>><<set $shepherdsknow to true>><<setloyal +15>><<setcourage +3>><<setcharisma +3>><<settrouble +3>><<setblade +3>><<settallys +3>><<setshery +3>><<setorder +3>><</link>></li> </ul>

<<nobr>><<if settings.notifications>><<notify 5s>><i class="fas fa-heart-broken"></i> The group will <br> remember that.<</notify>><</if>><</nobr>>You shake your head. "No," you murmur, averting your eyes. "Never. I think it was just a dream. Just my magic overreacting." "Are you sure?" Tallys asks you, pressing. "You really think that's all it was?" "Yes," you answer, hardening your resolve. "Just forget about it. It was nothing." There's a long silence as the others regard you, clearly in disbelief. Finally Blade says tersely, "Fine, then. We will let you rest." But his tone makes it clear that he doesn't believe you—and that he won't forget this matter anytime soon. Silently, he withdraws from the room, and after a moment Tallys and Shery hesitantly follow him. Only Trouble remains, giving you a skeptical look. "<<c firstname>>, mate, you don't have to be frightened," he tells you in a low voice. "Whatever it is, we want to help you—you don't have to keep anything from us." "Who says I'm frightened?" you ask, too tired and shaken to be truly irritated. "I'm just tired, Trouble, honestly. Can we leave it at that?" The sharpshooter pulls a face, incredulous. "As you wish," he says, with a hint of sarcasm, and he turns on his heel and leaves as well. The door falls shut behind him, blocking out Shery's candlelight, and you're left to battle your inner darknesses alone. <<include "journeystart">>

<<nobr>><<if settings.notifications>><<notify 5s>><i class="fas fa-heart"></i> The group will <br> remember that.<</notify>><</if>><</nobr>>You fall silent for a moment, gathering your thoughts. Then, slowly, haltingly, you say, "As a matter of fact, yes. Something like this has happened before." No one speaks. The darkness surrounding you is oppressive, with none of those waiting figures moving, breathing, only watching you. Into that cottony silence you begin to talk about your past: what happened on your thirteenth birthday, the figure that appeared in your room, the Endarkened that began its killing spree that same night. The Word of Power that you spoke to send it away. And the visions and dreams that have followed afterward. "I think," you finish, "that the figure that came to me that night might have been—a god, or <i>the</i> God, or something. I think it—they—gave me this power for some hidden purpose. And I think that it has been showing me things… things that happened in the past." You're sure that it all sounds like the ravings of someone gone mad, but Blade remains silent throughout your talk. Finally he stirs and says, "But why?" "I don't know," you admit. "I've never known." "And these Words you speak of—you can use them now? They're not spells?" You think about it. "They're different from spells," you say slowly. "More powerful, drawn from a different source. And I suppose I could use them at will, but… it doesn't always feel right to. It's only sometimes that I get the sense that I'm <i>supposed</i> to say one. <<nobr>><<if $facelesslordsdead gte 1 and $godspeaker lte 6>> Like with the Faceless Lords. <</if>> <<if $bothsafe is true>> Or that Endarkened in the church at Prihine's wedding. <</if>><</nobr>> I think they're limited, and I'm not supposed to squander them." "According to this—figure?" You shake your head. "According to some intuition I have," you admit. "I'm sorry. I don't know much more than that." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "yesitstimetotellshepherdswhatiknowtruthi">><</link>></center>

The others are silent for a long, long time. Blade seems pensive, while Trouble merely seems baffled. Tallys is unreadable, and Shery is staring at you from over her flickering candle flame as if she's utterly fascinated by you. Finally Blade says: "I can understand why you didn't say anything sooner. It certainly sounds… outlandish." You grimace. "You must think I'm a lunatic." "No," Blade says, lightly enough. "I don't know what to think, yet. I need to do some research. This area is generally… out of my field of expertise." Then he meets your eye. "But I do know you well enough to believe what you're saying. I know that you're speaking the truth. I just can't provide an explanation for why that truth is happening." He looks at you. "But I will help you, as best I can." You try not to let that spark of hope kindle in your chest. "You will?" He nods seriously. Trouble butts in, "We all will, of course. But Haelfire, <<c firstname>>—I always thought it was obvious you were special, but I was never expecting anything like <i>this</i>. Don't you think you've been granted a great boon?" "<<c firstname>> might not see it that way," Tallys says, in a reprimanding tone. "Considering the cost such a thing has come with. You think tonight has been an enjoyable experience, for example?" "Oh, right," Trouble says, abashed, just as the Elf turns to you and adds, "You were brave to tell us, <<c firstname>>. I'm not sure I would have, in your position." "But now we can use our resources to help you," Shery blurts. She goes pale when everyone turns to look at her, but continues, "We can try to understand what happened to you. What is happening to you." "Why the Endarkened returned on the evening of your birthday," Tallys adds, nodding sagely. "And who this figure is, and what the visions and powers they granted you mean." You nod slowly. Relieved but also a little wary, you say, "So you're not going to cast me out?" In the shadows, Blade's smile is little more than a faint line. "Trouble is an artifact of magical experimentation," he says. "Tallys, the sole survivor of an Elven clan that once claimed to walk with the gods. Even I—have my own darknesses to face. You have only stepped into place among us." "Besides, why would we want to cast you out?" Trouble asks, with a little laugh. "Sure, your story is—a bit wild, but if it's true, why <i>wouldn't</i> we want you on our side? Who would I rather have facing down a demon with me, some piddling conjurer or a Mage who has the power to change the world?" You can't help but laugh, and a feeling of warmth slowly suffuses your body. It feels good to finally speak the truth to somebody, anybody. To this new family especially. You hadn't realized you'd kept it locked up for so many years. You can only hope that that truth doesn't someday endanger them—or you. <i>What about the wards?</i> no one dares to say. <i>What about the shadows on the walls?</i> Are you being haunted or watched over? And by whom—or what? <<include "journeystart">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "journeystarti">><</link>></center>

The next morning, the day finally arrives—it's time for you to leave Haven. <<nobr>><<if $shepherdsknow is true>> No one speaks of the night before, which leaves you wondering if any of it ever even happened. It's only when Shery pulls you aside at breakfast and tells you that she'll be doing her research in your absence that you realize it's still on everybody's mind. They're just going out of their way to treat you normally—a courtesy you think you're grateful for. Unspoken between all of you is the knowledge that the Shepherds will never be the same again. <br><br> <<include "journeystart2">> <<else>> No one speaks of the night before, which leaves you wondering if any of it ever even happened. It's only when Trouble treats you more distantly than normal that you realize it's still on everybody's mind. They're just going out of their way to treat you normally—a courtesy you suspect they manage only with difficulty. Unspoken between all of you is the knowledge that the Shepherds may never be the same again. <br><br> <<include "journeystart2">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Trouble and Tallys come to see you off: Blade is leaving the both of them in charge while you're gone. You give them a skeptical look, remembering how well things went with the Equalists, but Tallys catches your thought and smiles faintly. "This is for the best," she says. "It will be an exercise in cooperation for the both of us." "High and mighty talk," the sharpshooter drawls, albeit good-naturedly. "In actuality, I know it's because you Elves hate the cold." Tallys shrugs. "It's true," she says. "Like all of Bes' creations, we thrive in sunlight and green things." She catches your eye and smiles. "Don't worry. Riel will be here, as well: he'll serve as a mediator if it comes to that. He sends his apologies, by the way, that he couldn't come to see you off. He and Shery are working on weapons acquisitions for the Order." Trouble wrinkles his nose and looks at you. "Best of luck, <<c firstname>>," he tells you. "I guess it's better you than me. I don't take kindly to freezing my arse off." You glance uneasily at Blade, who remains stone-faced. "It can't be <i>that</i> bad," you joke. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "journeystart2i">><</link>></center>

As soon as you leave the enclosing warmth of Haven's walls, the free wind tears at you with icy fangs. You're surprised—it's been a while since you've left the confines of the city—and you're immediately forced to huddle against the warmth of your ahfuri's fur. Shery kitted you out in a thicker, heavier version of your Shepherd's uniform, but you can already feel the bite of coming winter through your cloak anyway. You stare out at the folds and hillocks of valley that spread out before your feet like a bunched blanket: deep, dark places and airy prominences that seem impossible to cross. It'll take two sennights for you to get to the Reach, at least—and up there, the cold will be legendary. <i>No wonder Trouble and Tallys didn't want to come</i>, you think. Blade looks across at you and says over the tearing wind: "Will this journey be too hard on you?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I traveled all my life before I reached Haven. This is nothing."' 'itraveledallmylifebeforehavenreached'>><<setcourage +3>><<setblade +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"It could be. Maybe you should have considered that before you brought me along."' 'itcouldbemaybeyoushouldhaveconsideredthatblade'>><<setcourage -1>><<setblade -10>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I don\'t think so. I\'ll do my best!"' 'idontthinksobladeilldomybest'>><<setcourage +1>><<setblade +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Smile and shrug.' 'smileandshrugtoblade'>><</link>></li> <<if $gender is "female" and $attractedto is not "women">><li><<link '"I\'ll be fine as long as I have you to keep me warm." <b>[FLIRT]</b>' 'illbefineifyouwarmbebladeflirt'>><</link>></li><</if>> </ul>

Blade smiles slightly in approval. "I commend your bravery," he says, "but don't push yourself. Tell me if you need to stop." With that, he pulls his hood up and spurs his ahfuri into snow-blurring motion. You follow. <<include "journeystartreal">>

Blade's face doesn't change, but you sense his disapproval. "Hardship is a necessary part of growth," is all he says, and with that, he pulls his hood up and spurs his ahfuri into snow-blurring motion. You follow. <<include "journeystartreal">>

Blade smiles at you. "I have faith in you," he says. "But you don't need to push yourself. Tell me if you need to stop." He pulls his hood up and spurs his ahfuri into snow-blurring motion, and you follow. <<include "journeystartreal">>

Blade nods. "Tell me if you need to stop." He pulls his hood up and spurs his ahfuri into snow-blurring motion, and you follow. <<include "journeystartreal">>

Blade just snorts and spurs his ahfuri into motion in answer. You follow. <<include "journeystartreal">>

That afternoon, as you're still crossing the valley of the Sun's Embrace with Haven at your backs, you hear a clattering up the road behind you. You turn and watch as a rider approaches on an ahfuri of their own. They're wearing a thick cloak, so it's impossible to tell who it is at a distance—but whoever it is, they seem intent on bearing down on your position. You glance at Blade, but he doesn't tense. Could it be a courier from the others, already sent to deliver a message to you? You're surprised when the rider draws up and pulls down their hood. It's Chase, dressed in an elaborate fur coat that you're sure is "secondhand" and grinning from ear to ear. Blade spears him with a flat look. "What are you doing here?" "Thought I'd join you," Chase answers, exactly as if he's stumbled upon you during an afternoon stroll. "I don't recall informing you that we were leaving," Blade says in a clipped way. "Ah, but the Thieves Guild has eyes and ears everywhere," Chase says, winking. "And as your new spymaster, I make it my business to know what you lot are up to." "And so you're abandoning your post at the Guild?" Chase's grin widens. "Aren't <i>you</i> abandoning your post at Shepherd HQ?" He looks over at you and winks again. "Come on, <<c firstname>>, don't tell me you're not relieved to have someone else coming along. You need someone to lighten up the journey with this dour-faced stick in the mud." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I think Chase would make a fine addition."' 'chasewouldmakeafineaddition'>><<setchase +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Blade\'s not a stick in the mud."' 'bladesnotastickinthemud'>><<setblade +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'m fine with you coming if Blade is fine with it."' 'imfinewithyoucomingifbladeisfinewithit'>><<setblade +1>><<setchase +1>><<setcunning +1>><<setloyal +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"<<c god>>, please, no."' 'godnochase'>><<setchase -5>><<setcompassionate -2>><</link>></li> </ul>

Chase laughs. "Tough crowd," he says, turning to Blade. "But consider this: not only am I good company, but excellent backup for whatever may happen on the road." <<include "chaseconvojourney">>

Chase laughs, while Blade rolls his eyes. "See? I knew it," he says, turning to the dark-haired Ket. "Your recruit has spoken, Commander. And keep in mind that I'm not only good company, but excellent backup for whatever may happen on the road." <<include "chaseconvojourney">>

"He's just… focused," you add. Blade tries to hide a slight smile. "I think the word you're looking for is <i>boring</i>," Chase answers, rolling his eyes. "Still, if you're not going to count me as entertainment, at least consider that I'd make marvelous backup for whatever may happen on the road." <<include "chaseconvojourney">>

"When you're acting as a Shepherd, you're under his jurisdiction, you know," you remind him. Chase rolls his eyes. "I remember. Almost makes me regret joining up in the first place. But then again, sometimes it's nice to let someone else take the lead." He looks over at Blade as his mount begins to stir restlessly. "So how about it, O Gracious Commander? Don't you think you'll need the backup?" <<include "chaseconvojourney">>

"What reason could you possibly have for wanting to visit the Hunters?" Blade asks, clearly suspicious. Chase opens his hands in the classic <i>servori</i> gesture. "It's always good to get out and about," he replies enigmatically. "Travel the land. See the sights. Collect some intel." Blade regards him with a gimlet eye. "And you don't have any ulterior motives." "Every creature on this earth has ulterior motives, ever since they come out of the womb," Chase answers in a mock-philosophical way. Then he winks. "But if you really want to know, I'll only be escorting you most of the way. I've, ah... got my own plans. Just happens that our paths overlap, so we might as well travel together." He gives you a feline grin. "And it sounds like fun." Blade grunts irritably. "Come on, then," he says in an annoyed tone, capitulating. "Let's not lose any more daylight on your prattling." Chase sweeps a bow from his saddle. "I accept!" With that, the three of you move off into the wilderness beyond Haven's gaze. <<include "nightmarejourney">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "nightmarejourneyi">><</link>></center>

You travel at a brisk pace until the chilly, lemon-colored sun is swallowed by the Shield Peaks and Haven has fallen into shadow behind you. That night, Blade hunts a deer and brings it back to the camp to roast for dinner. The meat is tougher than you're used to, leaving a gamey, oily taste in your mouth, but Blade is as conscientious as ever: he won't hunt younger game, preferring to let them mature and breed to keep the populations around Haven thriving. Chase says a mock prayer over the meat and makes a sign of supplication to the One-God, but devours it easily enough. The meal unsettles your stomach, and you retire to your small tent early in the evening, retreating to waxed tarpaulin well-sealed against the cold. Outside, you can hear the sounds of the fire still crackling, the wind whistling through the trees. Uneasily, and with a strange awareness of yourself doing it, you begin to fall into a blurry kind of sleep… <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "nightmarejourneyii">><</link>></center>

This time, you feel as if you're not so much experiencing a vision as you are an <i>impression</i>. There is no scene before you, just a swirl of fragmented images, ideas, disembodied voices. You feel a presence in the same way a person senses a mountain while standing at its base—the whole thing is too large and close to see, too much to process all at once. When you try to concentrate hard, only more images and impressions come to you. A grain of sand, tumbling through water. A star burning, white and coldly ferocious. Children's laughter, the feeling of racing through grass. A sensation like drinking from a well of fire. Blood thumping to an ancient drumbeat. "Who are you?" you ask, though you don't know if you actually open your mouth and speak it. "What do you want from me?" The answer comes in a torrent of sound and feeling. You sense madness there, and confusion and careening urgency. <<nobr>> <<if $godspeaker is 7>> <<set $godspeakernumber to "seven">> <<elseif $godspeaker is 6>> <<set $godspeakernumber to "six">> <<elseif $godspeaker is 5>> <<set $godspeakernumber to "five">> <<elseif $godspeaker is 4>> <<set $godspeakernumber to "four">> <<elseif $godspeaker is 3>> <<set $godspeakernumber to "three">> <<elseif $godspeaker is 2>> <<set $godspeakernumber to "two">> <</if>><</nobr>> <span class="gradient">He's coming.</span> <span class="gradient">His agents have found you. They know you!</span> <span class="gradient">You must save the words.</span> <span class="gradient">You only have $godspeakernumber left.</span> <span class="gradient">Will that be enough?</span> <span class="gradient">It will have to be. You need at least one.</span> <i>For what?</i> <span class="gradient">For him.</span> <span class="gradient">He's back!</span> <i>But so am I.</i> <span class="gradient">Who are you?</span> <i><<c firstname>> <<c surname>>.</i> <<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="gradient"><span class="glitchy" data-text="Are you sure?">Are you sure?</span></span><<else>><span class="gradient">Are you sure?</span><</if>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "nightmarejourneyiii">><</link>></center>

/*[comment] put fade here? or blur the lines of reality a bit more by not making the transition clear? */ You wake up abruptly to find your tent flap partly open, letting a triangle of golden light fall down across your face. Your blanket is tangled around you like hairy rope. A shadow is in the threshold of the tent, crouching, lightly touching your ankle. Blade, you think dizzily. For a moment you think you see a weapon in his hands. But no, he's just bending over you, looking concerned in his reserved way. His hands are empty. Chase is behind him, looking in. You sit up and say groggily, "Was I making noise again?" Blade shakes his head. "No. I just had the sense that something was wrong." For a moment all of you watch each other in silence. Then Chase says quietly, "Bad dreams, <<c firstname>>?" You shrug, not knowing how to answer. Was it what you experienced before, or was this a plain old incoherent dream? Could you ever really tell the difference? Blade takes in your expression and says, "What do you need from us?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Nothing. Go back to being lookout."' 'nothinggobacktobeinglookout'>><<setloyal -5>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I think I\'ll come out. I wouldn\'t be able to fall back asleep anyway."' 'ithinkillcomeoutiwouldntbeabletofallasleep'>><<setblade +3>><<setchase +3>><<setloyal +5>><</link>></li> <<if $chase gte 40>><li><<link '"Could you stay, Chase?"' 'couldyoustaychasepleasetent'>><<setchase +5>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>><<set $chasetentstay to true>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 7>><<setblade -10>><<set $bladeromanceflag -= 3>><</if>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $gender is "female" and $bladeromanceflag gte 7>><li><<link '"Could you stay, Blade?"' 'couldyoustaybladepleasetent'>><<setblade +3>><<set $bladeromanceflag += 1>><<set $bladetentstay to true>><</link>></li><</if>> </ul>

Blade nods; he seems to understand your need to handle things alone. "Don't forget your shift starts three hours before dawn," is all he says. "Sleep well, <<c firstname>>," Chase adds, smiling at you easily—with just a trace of concern in his green eyes. "I'll try," you answer, already feeling a weariness weigh on you like a blanket of snow. Then Blade nods and lets the tent flap fall, causing the others to vanish with the light. You think they go back to the fire—but their footfalls never make a sound. <<include "morning">>

<<nobr>><<if settings.music is true>><<audio "camp" volume 0 loop fadeoverto 5 0.05>><</if>><</nobr>>Blade nods and moves back a little to let you through the tent flap. You shuffle out, noting that it has begun to snow—fat white shingles slap your face as you make your way back to the smokeless campfire. Blade settles down across from you and passes you one of the rocks that has been warming near the fire. Chase hesitates, as if contemplating returning to his tent, before settling on your other side. "I meant to tell you to put this in your bedroll," Blade says, indicating the fire-heated rock. "To stave off the cold. Unfortunately, I forgot." You curl your palms around the rock, letting its warmth seep into you; it feels like a beating heart in your hands. "I'm surprised to hear you forget anything," you comment, trying for a smile. "You're usually so meticulous." Blade tosses you a flat look from across the flames. "I am not a god," he tells you sardonically. "I have flaws, just like anyone." Chase perks up at this. "Such as?" "Only a fool reveals his weaknesses for nothing in exchange." It's a clear attempt at banter, but suddenly your heart's not in it: the talk of gods has sobered you. Sensing your mood, Blade and Chase fall silent and turn back to watching the white-dressed pines. Every sound seems eerily sharpened by the fall of snow: you can hear the near-silent glide of an owl overhead, nuts falling to the ground many yards away. Finally Blade says, staring out into the empty forest: "Perhaps it is a good thing that the Autarch sent us to see the Hunters." You also stare out into the darkness, arrested by the tranquil scenery, the moonlight falling over the snow like a sterile white glove. "Why's that?" Blade doesn't look at you. "They are good at exorcising demons," is all he says at first, lightly enough. Then he glances at you sidelong. "So maybe they can help you. Us." <<include "morning">>

<<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 7>> For the briefest instant, some rare emotion seems to flash across Blade's face; but when you look again, his face is coolly impassive. <br><br> <</if>><</nobr>> Chase raises his eyebrows. "Of course, <<c firstname>>." Once Blade retires and the thief has shuffled into your cramped tent, the two of you continue to stare at each other for a moment. Then he reaches down and begins to unbuckle his belt. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Uh..."' 'chaseuhhtent'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"What, you\'re not even going to buy me dinner first?"' 'whatyourenotevengoingtobuymedinnerfirsttent'>><<setcharisma +1>><<setchase +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

"Relax," Chase says with a grin. He holds up his weapons belt, with its array of sheathed daggers. "I'm not here to transgress. Just getting comfortable." He tosses his weapons belt aside and slips easily into place next to you, crossing his legs in one lithe movement. His eyes gleam chatoyantly in the dark, like a cat's. "Not the best sleeper, are you?" he says softly. <<nobr>><<if $shepherdsknow is true>> Although he wasn't there that night, you filled in the story for him haltingly on the road. You told him about the strange visions you've been receiving all your life, the one you experienced in the Shepherds' compound. <</if>><</nobr>> You shake your head. "I suppose not. I've always had nightmares—but lately they've been getting worse." "And you think I can help with that?" "Maybe. Sometimes it helps to take my mind off it. Talk a while." "I'm good at talking." Chase sets his back against the canvas wall of your tent: it seems he can make himself comfortable anywhere. "I used to have nightmares, too." You can't really imagine a man who smiles so much to be tormented by nightly… anything. "How did you stop them?" Chase looks thoughtful. "It was around time I took leadership of the Guild. At the hideout, we all have these hammocks slung up in the same room. People noticed if I cried out or twisted in my sleep. I guess that feeling of always being around people just made my nightmares stop." "I'm not <i>always</i> around people, though," you point out. Chase grins at you and winks. "We can change that," he says. "I'll never leave your side, if you want." It's a joke, obviously, so you only snort and roll your eyes. But something about Chase's presence does put you at ease. Maybe it's the way he lounges in the cramped space, perfectly at home. Maybe it's his nonchalant demeanor, as if it's totally normal to be keeping you company until you fall asleep. Slowly, under Chase's surprisingly watchful eye, you're able to drift off into a warm and welcome slumber. <<include "morning">>

Chase grins and winks. "Don't worry," he says, holding up his weapons belt with its array of sheathed daggers. "I'm just getting comfortable. I prefer to wait for, ah, better circumstances before pursuing anything along <i>that</i> line of thinking." He tosses his weapons aside and slips easily into place next to you, crossing his legs in one lithe movement. His eyes gleam chatoyantly, like a cat's in the gloom. "Not the best sleeper, are you?" he says softly. <<nobr>><<if $shepherdsknow is true>> Although he wasn't there that night, you filled in the story for him haltingly on the road. You told him about the strange visions you've been receiving all your life, the one you experienced in the Shepherds' compound. <</if>><</nobr>> You shake your head. "I suppose not. I've always had nightmares—but lately they've been getting worse." "And you think I can help with that?" "Maybe. Sometimes it helps to take my mind off it. Talk a while." "I'm good at talking." Chase sets his back against the canvas wall of your tent: it seems he can make himself comfortable anywhere. "I used to have nightmares, too." You can't really imagine a man who smiles so much to be tormented by nightly… anything. "How did you stop them?" Chase looks thoughtful. "It was around time I took leadership of the Guild. At the hideout, we all have these hammocks slung up in the same room. People noticed if I cried out or twisted in my sleep. I guess that feeling of always being around people just made my nightmares stop." "I'm not <i>always</i> around people, though," you point out. Chase grins at you and winks. "We can change that," he says. "I'll never leave your side, if you want." It's a joke, obviously, so you only snort and roll your eyes. But something about Chase's presence does put you at ease. Maybe it's the way he lounges in the cramped space, perfectly at home. Maybe it's his nonchalant demeanor, as if it's totally normal to be keeping you company until you fall asleep. Slowly, under Chase's surprisingly watchful eye, you're able to drift off into a warm and welcome slumber. <<include "morning">>

You draw a shaky breath. "I'd feel safer with you here." Blade goes perfectly still for a moment; you can't read his face in the dark. Tactfully, Chase retreats. Blade says, very carefully: "Are you sure that's what you want?" You nod. "Yes." Another long moment; another unbearable silence. Finally Blade says, almost as if to himself: "Fine. I'll keep watch until you fall asleep again." He makes his way into the tent to sit beside you, letting the flap fall and extinguish the firelight coming from outside. The tent is hardly big enough for the both of you, especially with Blade sitting up, but he manages to wedge himself next to your bedroll in as dignified manner as possible. His knee touches your shoulder through the blanket. He feels surprisingly warm, not the distant chill you were expecting. So he's human, after all, you think distantly. "Does this help?" Blade asks after a moment, stiffly awkward. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Yes."' 'yesbladetent'>><<setblade +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Not really, no."' 'notreallynobladetent'>><</link>></li> <<if $bladeromanceflag gte 5>><li><<link 'Hold his hand.' 'holdhishandbladetent'>><<if $gender is "female">><<set $bladeromanceflag += 2>><</if>><<setblade +5>><</link>></li><</if>> </ul>

Blade nods. "Good. I've never done this before." "But you're so good at standing guard," you tell him, knowing the darkness will hide your smile. He seems to bristle a little. "I'm confident in my ability to fend off enemies," he says under his breath. "Not so much to serve as a ward for nightmares. I've been told by some that I <i>inspire</i> bad dreams." "Well, clearly I don't think that," you tell him. Blade lapses into silence—you think he might be surprised. "No," he says thoughtfully after a moment. "It seems you don't." He says nothing more for the rest of his bedside vigil. You can't see his expression in the dark. But his mere presence is enough to drive away the strange dreams, circling the hidden corners of your mind like bats, and soon enough you find yourself drifting off into a warm and welcome slumber. <<include "morning">>

Your heart is beating so fast you don't think you'll ever fall back asleep. Blade says, a little acerbically: "I can leave if you want." You shake your head, knowing the darkness will hide your smile. "Never mind. I want you to stay." Blade says little more after that: you can't see his expression in the dark. But his mere presence is enough to drive away the strange dreams, circling the hidden corners of your mind like bats, and soon enough you find yourself drifting off to a warm and welcome slumber. <<include "morning">>

As soon as you touch him, you feel Blade jump slightly; he stiffens, and for a moment you think he'll pull his hand away. But after a moment, he does and says nothing, and hesitantly—almost shyly—he allows your twined hands to rest on your bedroll. His palm feels strong and cool to the touch. You breathe in unison in the dark. Blade says quietly, "Rest easy. I wouldn't allow any harm to come to you." You smile to yourself. "I know." The two of you say nothing more for the rest of the night. But Blade's mere presence is enough to drive away the strange dreams, circling the hidden corners of your mind like bats, and soon enough you find yourself drifting off into a warm and welcome slumber. <<include "morning">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "morningi">><<audio ":playing" fadeoverto 5 0>><</link>></center>

In the morning, you don't speak of what happened the night before. Camp is packed up in the usual way, in swift, efficient silence; you're treated just as you have always been. You're once again tentatively relieved: you don't want to be treated awkwardly, delicately, or worse—cast out and treated as a freak. You've had enough of that in your lifetime. After a warming breakfast of drop biscuits and salted beef—no venison for you—you give your ahfuri a quick brush-down until his coat is smooth and gleaming. Then you harness up and you're on your way—leaving the white-frosted glade behind, and with it, your mad dreams. You ride with your hood down, thanking the glassy sunlight on your cheeks, thanking the heart-leaping speed of your ahfuri—fast enough to outrun anything—thanking even the frigid wind that reminds you that you're truly alive. You try not to think about the dark feeling of foreboding that now lingers at the back of your mind, like the aftertaste of spoiled meat. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "morningii">><</link>></center>

Five days of uneventful traveling pass. The winter-eaten landscape of Blest passes by you in a blur as your ahfuri—a handsome, tawny racer-breed named Uwala—bounds effortlessly through snow-bound pines and up the icy hills. Finally, on the sixth day, Blade signals to something to your left. The great city of Capra looms to the east; Blade indicates that you're going to stop there for the night. <<nobr>><<if $education is "Circle-trained">> You nod. You're familiar with Capra: like Haven, it was once a great Mage capital, and is still known for its (now carefully-regulated) production of magical tools and technologies, such as lodestones, far-speakers, and explosive elemental orbs. It's also where you trained in your Mage's Circle some years before coming to Haven. You wonder if any of the old Circle still remains there; hidden Circles frequently pick up and move in order to remain concealed and to evade the Autarchy's Inquisitors. Doubtless you won't have time to find out before you move on. <br><br> <<include "meh">> <<else>> You nod. You're vaguely familiar with Capra, having passed through there on your travel before. Like Haven, it was once a great Mage capital, and is still known for its (now carefully-regulated) production of magical tools and technologies, such as lodestones, far-speakers, and explosive elemental orbs. There you'll be able to find a warm inn, and a brief time of shelter from the cold. <br><br> <<include "meh">> <</if>><</nobr>>

"A storm is coming," Blade remarks, pulling down the cloth that obscures the lower half of his face from the cold. "We'll be snowed in, regardless of wherever we stay. We might as well take shelter now." Chase stretches from his seat atop his ahfuri. "Finally," he groans. "I've been dying to get out of this gods-blasted snow and these Norm-shit tents. First thing I'm going to do is buy one of those fancy sealskin tents in town. Or maybe they'll have some Mage-made tents? Something ensorcelled to keep out the cold?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Shery will be heartbroken to hear you say that."' 'sherywillbeheartbrokentohearthat'>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setshery +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I hear that. Every morning I wake up thinking my feet have frozen and fallen off."' 'ihearthateverymorningiwakeupthinkingmyfeethavefrozen'>><<setcharisma +1>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Don\'t be such a fop. People have endured much worse than this."' 'dontbesuchafoppeopleendured'>><<setchase -3>><<setcharisma -3>><</link>></li> </ul>

"She worked so hard to find us winter gear," you comment. Chase snorts. "You can only find so much through the, ah, <i>legal</i> channels," he says. "Haven is just as tight-fisted as its ruler—all of those damnable rules and regulations. But if you go through the black market…" "I hope you aren't discussing criminal enterprises," Blade remarks in the background. Chase grins at you and winks. "Of course not, Commander." The three of you spur your ahfuri into motion, and you bound off towards Capra, the city of Mages. <<include "capra">>

Chase winks at you. "That could be fixed," he comments. "All you need is a partner to help keep your bed warm." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"In your dreams, thief."' 'bonerattlinggustcutsoff'>><<setchase +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Is that an offer?"' 'bonerattlinggustcutsoff'>><<setchase +3>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>><<set $bladeromanceflag -= 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Don\'t be a pervert."' 'bonerattlinggustcutsoff'>><<set $chaseromanceflag -= 4>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Just ignore him.' 'bonerattlinggustcutsoff'>><</link>></li> </ul>

A bone-rattling gust of wind cuts off Chase's next words. Uwala yowls impatiently, and Blade, watching your exchange sardonically, says, "Are we ready to head out?" You nod, and the three of you spur your ahfuri towards Capra, the city of Mages. <<include "capra">>

Chase's smile flickers. "But I am not most people," he says, pouting a little. Blade nudges his ahfuri closer and says sardonically, "<i>Most people</i> would not take this long to head out. Are we going into the city, or not?" You nod, and the three of you spur your ahfuri into motion, bounding towards Capra, the city of Mages. <<include "capra">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "caprai">><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<if settings.music is true>><<audio "capra" volume 0.1 play>><</if>><</nobr>>The first thing you realize upon entering the city is that Capra is not how you remembered it. The Capra of your memories was a proud, bustling place, with soaring, grandiose architecture carved from the mountains by magic and crowds of calm, composed citizens living out their lives in a well-mannered, organized way. Even after the Autarchy took this place and converted it into a hotbed of manufacturing and industry, something about Capra still retained the grandeur and majesty of its heyday. Now, as you flash your sun medallion at the guards at the city gate, you see that the city has completely turned on its head in just a few short years. The streets are almost completely empty, despite it still being late afternoon—the time when most people would be returning from work. The few stragglers who are in the streets are pale, wan things, almost unrecognizable as living people: their eyes and cheeks are sunken, and they shamble around in a daze like ghouls. None of them acknowledge you. You stable your ahfuri in a cattery near the south gate and make your way into the silent, nervous streets, looking around warily. Blade mentions the odd surroundings first. "Could Black Sun have made its way here? I thought we stopped it before it left Haven." Chase shakes his head. "This isn't Black Sun," he murmurs. "Black Sun put people in a stupor, but they had a—blissful look to them. The coma of an addict. This is different. These people look half-dead." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "capraii">><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<if settings.music is true>><<audio ":playing" fadeoverto 7 0>><</if>><</nobr>>The strangeness continues when you arrive at your shelter for the night: a cozy inn that you've frequented before called <i>The Phoenix Feather</i>. The innkeeper takes one look at you from behind the counter and says tersely, "You shouldn't stay here tonight." You glance sidelong at Blade, who remains impassive. Is it because of your Shepherd uniforms? Is the man hostile to the Shepherds' Order—or to the Autarch? He doesn't <i>look</i> like a rebel. In fact, he looks like some kind of war victim: his face is even more ravaged and hollow-cheeked than the sorry souls you've seen wandering the streets. Behind him, a young girl—the man's daughter, most likely—casts fearful glances up at you as she pretends to leaf through account books. "We're only passing through," you tell the man. "We just need a room for one night." The man shakes his head. "You should get out of Capra," he tells you. "Move on and tent in the wilderness, if you have to." "Any particular reason why you're driving your customers away?" Chase drawls from behind you. For the first time you notice that the inn is completely empty of other guests. The man averts his gaze. "Something ill has fallen over Capra," he mutters nervously. "It comes at night." "What does?" Blade demands. He shakes his head again. "I daren't speak of it, lest I attract its attention to myself. I can only warn you as best I can." When none of you move, he scans you nervously again. "You say you're only here for one night?" "Yes," you say slowly. "Then mayhap it will spare you," the innkeeper says, now resigned. "It may not even realize you're here." <<include "innroom">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "roomi">><</link>></center>

You've hardly settled into your room, a luxurious suite with its own wash closet—<i>at least agents of the Autarchy never travel in squalor,</i> you think—when there's a knock at your door. You open it to find Blade standing in the threshold, looking grim. Behind him is Chase, as usual. "Something's afoot," Blade declares immediately, striding farther into your room when you open the door wider. "I don't like cryptic warnings—or the strange air in the city." "I thought the man hated Diminished at first," you agree, rubbing your arms. "But he's right. There is something more sinister-feeling in Capra." "Something that only comes at night never has good intentions," Chase quips, slipping into the room and tossing his body backwards onto your neatly-made bed. "Could it be an Endarkened attack? There was that Revenant that came by night in Ambryn, Trouble said." Blade shakes his head. "If it were that simple, the innkeeper would have told us right away," he answers. "There are few who fail to recognize the symbol of the Shepherds at this point. He should have been clamoring for our help. This is something else." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Do you think we should leave?"' 'bladedoyouthinkweshouldleave'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Do you think we should ask around?"' 'bladedoyouthinkweshouldaskaround'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Do you think we should sleep in the same room?"' 'bladedoyouthinkweshouldsleepinthesameroom'>><</link>></li> </ul>

"I've considered that," Blade begins. "But the storm," Chase interrupts. "It's going to bring a lot more snow. We won't be able to use the roads—it'll be this or a cave or a den." "So it's between facing a known danger out in the wild, or an unknown danger here in Capra," you conclude. Blade looks pensive. <<nobr>><<if $heritage is "Elf">> "And aren't those with Elvish blood more susceptible to the cold?" He glances at you, looking serious and concerned. "Tallys, at least, goes into a hibernative state that's difficult to rouse her from when deep freeze like this one sets in. I don't want the same thing happening to you if we're caught out of doors tonight." <<else>> "If there's something supernatural going on, it's our duty to look into it," he says. <</if>><</nobr>> You nod. "Capra it is, then." <<include "roomii">>

"Perhaps," Blade says, nodding. "Though judging by how forthcoming the innkeeper has been, getting the locals to talk may be quite the endeavor." "They may talk to me," you comment. "I've been here before; I'm not a total stranger to these parts. I could go to the bars and ask around." "But you can't drink," Chase points out. "And liquor is the lubricant for many a reluctant tongue. I can go." <<include "roomii">>

"We may have to resort to that," Blade answers, completely serious. "Faugh," Chase says in disgust. "What good are renting these nice spacious rooms if we're just going to cram into the same one anyway?" "It's that or possibly being attacked by something in the night," Blade says, turning to him. Chase rolls his eyes. "I'll take my chances." <<include "roomii">>

There are a few more minutes of rather circular discussion before there's a begrudging agreement to feel things out. Chase departs to the bars alone to gather information, while you and Blade stay behind at the inn. Blade vows to stay awake and alert for signs of threats and insists that you both learn coded knocking so you can communicate through the walls of your rooms in the case of an emergency. ("Won't shouting work just as well?" "What if you're gagged?" "Won't you hear someone breaking into my room and gagging me?" "Perhaps. Perhaps not. Isn't it better to be prepared for all situations?") Shortly after they both leave, however, you curl up under the heavy, soft down comforter of your bed and feel your own head grow heavy with sudden drowsiness. The poor sleep and nightmares you've been suffering from lately are weighing on you, and ensconced as you are in the quiet and safety of this secluded room, it's a hard battle just to keep your eyes from sliding shut. Little by little, you begin to drift off to sleep… <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "roomiii">><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<if settings.music is true>><<timed 5s>><<audio "knock" volume 0.1 play>><</timed>><<audio "nightmare" volume 0 fadeoverto 30 0.3 loop>><</if>><</nobr>> Suddenly, a knock comes at your door. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "roomiv">><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<if settings.music is true>><<audio "knock" volume 0.1 play>><</if>><</nobr>> Your eyes snap open. The room is pitch-black—not even the moon's light filters in through the window. You stir and lift your head as the knock comes again. <i>Knock.</i> <i>Knock.</i> <i>Knock.</i> <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"...Blade?"' 'roomv'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"...Chase?"' 'roomv'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"...Who is it?"' 'roomv'>><</link>></li> </ul>

A faint voice answers you, too muffled to make out, so you rise to open the door. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "roomvi">><</link>></center>

But when you open it, nothing's there. Beyond the door, the long, lightless hallway stretches, none of the other doorways in visible sight. Nothing stirs. You shake your head, which is beginning to throb. That's strange… Who knocked on your door? <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "roomvii">><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<if settings.music is true>><<audio "nightmare" volume 0.5>><</if>><</nobr>>A strange noise trickles to you then, making the hairs on your arm stand on end. Something like… wet, heavy breathing. The terrible rasp of consumptive lungs. Something animalistic and monstrous. And beneath that—the sounds of someone weeping. Whimpering in manic fear. Somewhere beyond this room… or maybe in it? Where is it coming from? <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Look under your bed.' 'lookunderbehindnothing'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Look behind the curtain.' 'lookunderbehindnothing'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Call out for help.' 'calloutforhelpwhimperingfear'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Try and ignore the noises.' 'tryandignorenoiseswhimperingfear'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Nothing. <<include "roomviii">>

<<nobr>><<if settings.music is true>><<audio "nightmare" volume 0.7>><</if>><</nobr>>You open your mouth and yell and yell for Blade and Chase… for anyone to come and break through this oppressive darkness, the <i>sounds</i> it's producing… for someone to come running up the stairs, bearing a lamplight… But your voice comes out small and feeble, as if you can't force enough air into your lungs. No one answers you. Maybe they can't hear you over all these other noises? <<include "roomviii">>

<<nobr>><<if settings.music is true>><<audio "nightmare" volume 0.7>><</if>><</nobr>>You shut your eyes. <i>I just need to ignore it. I just need to ignore it…</i> The sounds grow louder and louder. <<include "roomviii">>

<<nobr>><<if settings.music is true>><<audio "nightmare" volume 1>><</if>><</nobr>>You pace the room, not knowing quite what to do and feeling lost. What is going on? Where is everyone? Where are <i>you</i>? The noises you're hearing rise up in a great, maddening roar, and the darkness becomes so thick that it almost presses you to the floor. Unbidden, you feel hot tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. <i>Stop,</i> you think, trying to will yourself to open your eyes to a normal room again. <i>Just <b>stop</b>!</i> All at once, everything goes silent. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "roomix">><<audio ":playing" stop>><</link>></center>

You open your eyes, breathing out a sigh of relief. <i>It stopped</i>… Then a voice speaks directly behind you. "Oh, <<c firstname>>… it never stops." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "roomx">><</link>></center>

You try to whip around, but you find that you're frozen in place; your muscles are locked up, so that you can't even turn your head and see the unseen speaker behind you. Their voice is smooth, somehow sweet and lulling… but you sense an evil pressing against you that's so powerful you begin to feel nauseous and dizzy from its mere presence. Your skin breaks out into a cold sweat. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Lash out with your arm.' 'roomxi'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Speak a spell word to illuminate the darkness.' 'roomxi'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Use a Word of Power to free yourself.' 'roomxi'>><</link>></li> </ul>

You try your best to move, to speak, to do <i>anything</i>—but nothing happens. Your voice comes out in a strangled squeak, as if you've been paralyzed. The voice behind you laughs. "Trying to use your powers against me, <<c firstname>>? No, that won't work: this is my realm, my reality. I control everything here. Including you." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Who are you?"' 'roomxii'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Are you what\'s been haunting my dreams?"' 'roomxii'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Are you what\'s been terrorizing this city?"' 'roomxii'>><</link>></li> </ul>

The thing doesn't answer you. Instead, it glides closer, and the sound of its breath against your neck are all the things that could drive a person mad in the world. The sound of infants crying. Nails being scraped against glass. "Struggle is futile, Brightburner," the thing whispers. "Even if you find me… even if you destroy me… our plans move forward. And your world teeters on the edge of ruin." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Fuck you!"' 'roomxiii'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"What are you talking about?"' 'roomxiii'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Leave me alone..."' 'roomxiii'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You\'re not real."' 'roomxiii'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'ll find you. I\'ll destroy you."' 'roomxiii'>><</link>></li> </ul>

The thing laughs, and you fall… <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "roomxiv">><</link>></center>

…And in the morning, you awaken to your sunlit room, feeling refreshed and revitalized from what feels like a long, dreamless slumber. You look around: you literally haven't moved from the position you were in the night before, having apparently slept like the dead. You suddenly realize someone's knocking on your door. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Hop out of bed immediately and answer it.' 'roomxvi'>><<setblade +1>><<setloyal +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Take a moment to check your appearance in the mirror before answering.' 'roomxvi'>><<setloyal -1>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Yell, "Just a minute!" and dash to splash some water on your face and comb your hair.' 'roomxvi'>><<setloyal -1>><<setblade -1>><<setchase +1>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Upon opening the door, you find Blade's serious face and Chase's chipper expression waiting to greet you. Both seem to note your rumpled clothes from the day before, but pointedly don't comment on them. Chase says, "Wakey-wakey, eggs and bakey!" "We're about to have breakfast downstairs," Blade translates. Although he looks as dour as ever, he looks immaculate and unruffled: did he really stay up all night? You suddenly realize how hungry you are. "I'm coming." As you make your way down the staircase, you ask, "Did you find anything out at the bars last night?" Chase shakes his head. "Nothing of value. Places were crowded, but the people were acting… <i>weird</i>. No one was drinking. They were all just downing <span class="entrylink"><span class="entrylink-tooltip">A dark, caffeinated drink imported from the southern isles.</span><<link "khav" "Glossary">><</link>></span> and talking to each other kind of desperately, like they were talking just to talk, or didn't want to be alone, or something." He shrugs. "Anyway, they avoided me like the plague. When I tried to lay on the charm, they just looked at me like I'd grown a second head." "That's how everyone looks at you," Blade answers flatly. Chase turns to him and slaps his shoulder in a friendly way, earning an affronted look. "Least I didn't stay up in my room, sitting in silence all night. You feeling rested, O fearless leader? Gather any intel from watching the paint on your walls?" Your dark-haired commander makes an unimpressed sound through his nose. "I didn't notice anything amiss," he admits reluctantly. He glances at you. "At least it seems you, <<c surname>>, were able to get some sleep. That's the one good thing that came from stopping in this place." He's just finishing his sentence when you come downstairs into the inn's dining room. The innkeeper is dozing over by the bar, his chin propped up on his hand and his elbows leaned against the counter. A dozen glasses and a rag lie discarded in front of him; he must have been in the process of polishing them when he fell asleep. At Chase's polite cough, he fails to stir. The three of you glance at each other. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Sir?"' 'roomxvii'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Hello?"' 'roomxvii'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Good morning!"' 'roomxvii'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Wake up!"' 'roomxvii'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Nothing. Chase laughs. "Poor old boy's exhausted." He claps his hands, but the man doesn't even twitch. "Fire!" "Leave him alone," Blade says, moving swiftly over to the door leading to the kitchen. He eases it open, but it's devoid of any sounds or the smells of cooking food. "Seems we'll have to procure our breakfast elsewhere." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"That\'s strange. When I stayed here before, they always had a hot meal going."' 'roomxviii'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Where\'s his daughter?"' 'roomxviii'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Things in this place just get stranger and stranger."' 'roomxviii'>><</link>></li> </ul>

You're just about to move over to the bar yourself when the door to the inn suddenly bursts open, revealing the innkeeper's daughter, looking wide-eyed and frantic. Behind her she's dragging the wrist of a lean, rangy-looking woman with a ropy build and an even ropier-looking braid of heavy, sand-colored hair slung over one shoulder. The young woman is dark-skinned, deeply-freckled, with fierce, hawklike amber eyes and a hard scowl etched out on her sharp features. A weathered and crooked quarterstaff, dark and shiny with use, hangs across her back and over one shoulder in a leather holster. "Let me go," she snaps, jerking her wrist out of the girl's hands just as she spots you standing there. She takes you in, but for the moment doesn't acknowledge you as she says to the girl: "I already told you, I don't know how to help your da." She has a strange accent, something both lilting and harsh at the same time. "You <i>owe</i> us," the young girl insists. She looks about Caine's age, eleven or twelve, with a mop of sandy curls like her father's. "And you know magic—I saw—" She gestures to the man still leaning against the counter, who hasn't even twitched despite all the commotion. "Please. He won't wake up…" At her mention of magic, the young woman's eyes flash towards you, as if daring you to say something about it. She spots your uniforms and spits, "Who're you? Dogs of the Autarchy?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"We\'re Shepherds. We hunt Endarkened and the occult."' 'wereshepherdswehuntendarkenedoccult'>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setloyal +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Watch who you\'re calling dogs."' 'watchoutwhoyourecallingdogs'>><<setcompassionate -1>><<setayla +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Who are you?"' 'whoareyouaylastomp'>><<setcunning +1>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

She snorts. "And Diminished—your own kind. Don't think I haven't heard about that." <<include "roomxvix">>

The young woman's eyes harden. "Yeah? And what're you going to do to me if I don't, lapdog?" she challenges, loud and ferocious. <<include "roomxvix">>

She snorts. "None of your business, that's who." <<include "roomxvix">>

Before you can respond, the little girl stomps her foot. "My dad!" she shouts. "He won't wake up!" All four of you have to turn to the situation at hand when she says that. A few minutes of investigation proves the girl's claims correct: the innkeeper won't wake up, no matter what you do. You shout in his ear, shake him; Chase splashes water in his face and the young woman even slaps him in the face, and he still stays unconscious. And yet his breath is the deep, even breathing of a peaceful dreamer. The young girl gives a helpless sob. "He's just like everyone else," she whispers. Then she glares at you, tears sparkling in her eyes. "This is all your fault! He tried to help you, and instead the S-Specter took him away!" The air seems to electrify when she says that. "Specter?" you and Blade demand. The girl cowers for just an instant under the intensity of your stares, but she forges on reluctantly: "You really ain't heard of the Specter?" Chase crouches so that he's more eye-level with the young girl. "Why don't you tell us about it, little sister?" he asks, in more kindly tones than you've seen him use. She looks doubtfully at the group of you, then back at her father, still sleeping where you've left him gently folded against the countertop. Her lip quivers, and she begins… <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "roomxvx">><</link>></center>

"The Specter come 'cause of them Mages. They got a secret school going on up at that old castle. No one's s'posed to know, only my dad is friends with one of 'em and he gives 'em leftover food sometimes. They do all kinds of… all kinds of… speriments—" "Experiments," Blade says. She casts him a fearful look and says, "Yeah, that. But one of the speriments must have gone wrong, 'cause then they called the Specter up. It comes and eats people's brains, leaves 'em sleeping forever. It's been happening all over town. It comes at night, chooses somebody, and then <i>eats</i> them. They never… wake up after that." She bites her lips to keep from crying. "And now it's got my dad." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Comfort her. "Don\'t worry. We\'re going to find a way to cure him."' 'comfortherweregoingtofindwaytocure'>><<if $compassionate gte 50>><<setcompassionate +1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Why did you say it was our fault?"' 'whydidyousayitwasourfault'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"What kind of experiments do you mean?"' 'whatkindofexperimentsdoyoumean'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

<<nobr>><<if $compassionate gte 50>> She doesn't totally look like she believes you, but the little girl does nod. "Maybe you could," she mutters doubtfully. "Maybe it can't get all of you at once." <br><br> <<include "roomxvxi">> <<else>> She stares up into your face before bursting into tears. Oops. Guess you don't have a very comforting demeanor. <br><br> "The Specter's gonna et his heart!" she wails. "And then it's gonna et you too!" <br><br> Blade looks awkward; Chase murmurs, "There, there," but that doesn't seem to help. <br><br> You consider the situation. <br><br> <<include "roomxvxi">> <</if>><</nobr>>

She looks at you as if you're stupid. "'Cause he tried to warn you," she says. "And that made the Specter mad, so it ate him next. It knows everything. It hears everything, everyone's thoughts and dreams." <<include "roomxvxi">>

She shrugs unhappily. "Dunno. Creepy things. Messing with things that oughtn't be trifled with—that's what Dad says." <<include "roomxvxi">>

It would sound like the fantasies of a girl with an over-active imagination… if you had not just dealt with a demon that operated just like this in the months prior. "It sounds like Black Sun," Blade says, echoing your thoughts, but Chase says, "But <<c firstname>> got rid of the Faceless Lord behind it. Could this be another one? How many <i>are</i> there?" <<nobr>> <<if $intelligence gte 25>> <br><br> "Five," you answer. <<else>> <br><br> "Too many," you answer. <</if>><</nobr>> Then you glance at the young woman who's standing to the side of the bar, watching all of this unfold with her arms crossed protectively over her chest. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"And how do you factor into all of this?"' 'roomxvxii'>><<setintelligence +1>><<if $specialization is "elementalist">><<setayla +3>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I don\'t think we got the chance to introduce ourselves properly. I\'m <<c rank>> <<c firstname>> <<c surname>>."' 'roomxvxii'>><<setcharisma +1>><<if $specialization is "elementalist">><<setayla +3>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"So who are you?"' 'roomxvxii'>><<setcourage +1>><<setayla +1>><<if $specialization is "elementalist">><<setayla +3>><</if>><</link>></li> </ul>

The young woman grunts. "Not that I owe you anything," she begins, eyeing your medallion, "but the name's Ayla. Ayla Aescar. I'm just passing through." <<nobr>><<if $education is "Journeyman">> <br><br> The name gives you just the briefest moment's pause. Where have you heard that name before? <</if>><</nobr>> "She got into a fight here the other night," the innkeeper's daughter breaks in. "Beat up someone and used her magic on them. Blew all of Dad's chairs around and broke things. Dad told his friends not to call the Inquisitors and said he wouldn't send her to jail if she stuck around and worked off what she broke." She hesitates. "I thought… I thought she could use her magic to help him." "I don't do that kind of magic, kid," Ayla says, leaning to one side so that one of her bony hips juts out. She's dressed in unusual clothing, you notice for the first time: the kind of sheer layers common to the desert-dwelling peoples of the far West. She looks at you and adds, almost reluctantly, "I'm Zephilim." She means that she's an Elementalist, a rare kind of Mage who only works one element: magic of the wind and air. <<nobr>><<if $specialization is "elementalist">> "I'm an Elementalist as well," you tell her, to which Ayla's eyes widen slightly. <br><br> "Interesting," is all she says—but you think there she might be hiding a tiny smile of approval. <<else>> "<<c obscura>>," you answer, to which she simply nods. <</if>><</nobr>> "How do you know the Mages in the school have anything to do with it?" Chase asks the young girl then. <<nobr>><<if $troubleequalist is true>> As he says it, you can't help but think of another similar case to this claim: the Equalists. A group of Mages toying with arcane forces that then rendered innocent victims comatose and lethargic… actually, it's like the Equalists and Black Sun combined. <</if>><</nobr>> The innkeeper's daughter hesitates. "It started with them," she mumbles after a moment. "I heard one of their people telling my dad about it, that some of their Mages had fallen asleep, before any of it started happening here…" Blade glances at you. "Does that sound right to you, <<c surname>>?" <ul class="choices"> <<if $education is "Circle-trained">><li><<link '"If she\'s talking about the Veiled Circle, no. I know those people: none of them would dabble with demonic forces."' 'ifshestalkingveiledcircledabble'>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link '"I\'m hesitant to automatically blame Mages for supernatural things going awry... but it\'s worth looking into."' 'roomxvxiii'>><</link>></li> <<if $troubleequalist is true>><li><<link '"Possibly. It happened with the Equalists, didn\'t it?"' 'roomxvxiii'>><<setcunning +1>><<setloyal -1>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link '"Only one way to find out, isn\'t there?"' 'roomxvxiii'>><</link>></li> </ul>

"How sure are you?" Blade asks you. You look back at him. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I\'d stake my life on it."' 'roomxvxiii'>><<setloyal +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Pretty sure..."' 'roomxvxiii'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Well... it has been a long time since I\'ve seen them..."' 'roomxvxiii'>><<setcourage -1>><<setloyal -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

"Guess we're going to the Mage school, then," Chase declares, interlocking his fingers behind his head. He glances at Blade. "Right? That's the drill with the Shepherds, isn't it?" Blade looks both darkly pensive and annoyed at being preempted by the thief. "It is our duty to investigate," he grants, and with that, you help the innkeeper's daughter close up and get her father to bed as she tells you how to reach the Mages of the Veiled Circle. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "roomxvxiv">><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<if $education is "Circle-trained">> Shortly after, you set off towards Solhadur, an old, ruined castle lying on the outskirts of the city, nestled at the shores of its great lake. When Capra was still a great Mage metropolis, it was also the site of one of the Continent's greatest magical academies, Solhadur: a rich and thriving institution of learning that housed some of the brightest minds in the Mage world. It was there that young Mages trained to earn their certifications before the Castigation, donning the official robes and medallions that would mark them as initiated working Mages. <br><br> Later, that same school would serve as the disguised home for the Veiled Circle, where you studied your own piecemeal spellcraft among other young hopefuls and rebel Diminished living concealed from the Autarchy. <br><br> Part of you is again surprised that the Circle is still there: you'd thought they would have found another place to live to avoid the area becoming too "hot," as Circles are wont to do. You'd always had the vague intention of returning to check in, as many graduates do after setting off on their own journeys for a while; but your travels took you farther and farther away before you ended up in Brunen, where you were hired to protect Prihine on her way to her wedding in Haven. You wonder how the school has fared in your absence, how they've continued to evade detection for so many years... and if any of your old school friends still remain there. <br><br> Or if this strange "Specter" has already gotten to them in their sleep. <br><br> <<include "roomxxx">> <<else>> Shortly after, you set off towards Solhadur, an old, ruined castle lying on the outskirts of Capra, at the shores of its great lake. Because Capra was—and technically still is—a Mage city at heart, it once housed the Continent's greatest magical academy at that castle, a school also called Solhadur. Before the Castigation, the college was a rich and thriving institution of learning, a placed that housed some of the brightest minds in the Mage world. Shery said the Archmage who originally created the Shepherds' tower may have trained at Solhadur. Part of you is excited to see it, even if it's in ruins now. <br><br> The other part of you is surprised that the Mages' Circle here has picked so obvious a place to settle. Hunted always by the Inquisitors, Circles are makeshift schools and places of learning for young rebel Mages who study their spellcraft in secret. They rarely stay in the same place for long, for fear of being detected—but you suppose Capra is also a predominantly-Mage city, even today. Perhaps the people here were content to keep the Circle's secrets, like the innkeeper and his daughter… <br><br> Until those Mages supposedly brought a Specter down on everybody's heads. <br><br> <<include "roomxxx">> <</if>><</nobr>>

As you walk, you notice that Ayla, the mysterious Zephilim Wind-Mage, is sullenly trailing after you. When you catch her eye, she stubbornly lifts her chin and says, "I owe the innkeeper one for not turning me in. I'd be lower than dogshit if I just upped and left." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Who were you fighting in his bar, anyway?"' 'whofightinginbarroom'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"We\'d be glad to have your help."' 'wedbegladforhelpinroom'>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Just don\'t get in our way, all right?"' 'justdontgetinwayaylaallright'>><<setayla -3>><</link>></li> </ul>

She scowls. "Some ass who thought it was smart to get handsy with me. I cracked a glass over his head, and then some." <<include "roomxxxi">>

She looks away. "Don't mention it." <<include "roomxxxi">>

Ayla's nostrils flare, and Chase darts you a half-admiring, half-nervous look. "I'll do my absolute and very best," she responds, her tone both sugar-sweet and acidic. <<include "roomxxxi">>

Up ahead, Blade and Chase fall into conversation about how you might get in to Solhadur, should the Mages there prove unwilling to entertain guests. As they talk, you and Ayla continue to walk in silence. <<include "aylaconvo1">>

She looks as you suspiciously, but seems to find no harm in answering the question. "Jalis desert," Ayla answers shortly, folding her arms. Despite her thin clothing, she never seems cold, even when harsh winds blow through the streets. You raise your eyebrows. The Jalis desert lies on the western-most edge of the known Continent; although it technically falls under the purview of the Autarchy, it's such a harsh and bleak place that hardly anyone seems to survive there. <<nobr>><<if $heritage is "Norm">> "I grew up somewhat in the same region. Westwood, though it's far south of the desert." <br><br> "Fascinating," Ayla responds. Then, after a moment's pause: "Sorry. I don't know why I said it like that. I blew through there once, but no one was there." <</if>><</nobr>> <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"What is the Jalis desert like?"' 'aylawhatisjalisdesertlike'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Do you ever miss your home?"' 'ayladoyouevermissyourhome'>><</link>></li> </ul>

She glances at you. "Hot." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Not one for talking, are you?"' 'aylanotonefortalkingareyou'>><<setayla +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I can imagine!"' 'icanimagineayla'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

She snorts at you. "Nope." <<include "aylaconvo1">>

Ayla nods, and after a moment relents: "It's a broken land. There are tribes all run by different warlords; some try to unify them all under one banner, which seems foolish. Each group hoards water, shade, cave systems… they all try to kill each other every day. It's like a war zone, plus the sun and the sand… Awful place for a kid to grow up." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"How did you survive?"' 'aylahowdidyousurvive'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I can imagine!"' 'aylaicanimagine'>><<setayla -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

She shrugs. "Got lucky, I guess." <<include "aylaconvo1">>

She gives you a sardonic look. "You ever say anything else?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Sorry."' 'sorryforsayingicanimagineayla'>><<setayla -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Nope. I\'m an idiot."' 'nopeaylaiamanidiot'>><<setayla +1>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

She shoots you a baffled look. "What're you apologizing for? I don't care." What a confusing person. <<include "aylaconvo1">>

She presses her lips together in a way that tells you she's trying not to laugh. "Yeah. You are." A comfortable silence descends after that. <<include "aylaconvo1">>

She shakes her head. "Nah. It's a brutal, awful place. Everyone fighting for water, killing each other for shade… I was lucky to get out. I don't think I'd go back." It's interesting, however, that everything about her—from her clothes to her accent—screams her origins, despite her evident dislike of the place. You wonder why that is… <<include "aylaconvo1">>

"Mm-hm," Ayla answers. "That's me. Never stay in one place more than a few weeks." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Any particular reason why?"' 'aylaanyparticularreasonwhy'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Are you on the run or something?"' 'aylaareyouontherun'>><<setcourage +1>><<setcharisma -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I used to be like that, too."' 'aylaiusedtobelikethattoo'>><<setayla +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

She shrugs. "Not really. Just get bored." <<include "aylaconvo1">>

"No," Ayla answers, unperturbed by the potentially-rude question. "Though I wouldn't tell you if I was." <<include "aylaconvo1">>

She glances at you, a bit suspiciously—and maybe a bit thoughtfully. "What changed?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I was looking for something all that time, and now I guess I\'ve found it."' 'aylaiwaslookingforsomethingallthattimeifoundit'>><<setayla +1>><<setloyal +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Nothing, really. I\'m just sticking things out until something better comes along."' 'nothingreallyimjuststickingthingsoutayla'>><<setloyal -10>><<setcunning +3>><</link>></li> </ul>

She cocks her head, looking almost like a hawk as she does it. "What'd you find?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"My place in the world."' 'aylaiwaslookingforsomethingallthattimeifoundit2'>><<setloyal +5>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"A new family."' 'aylaiwaslookingforsomethingallthattimeifoundit2'>><<setblade +1>><<settrouble +1>><<settallys +1>><<setshery +1>><<setriel +1>><<setchase +1>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setloyal +3>><<set $aylaharden += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Stability. Security. Safety."' 'aylaiwaslookingforsomethingallthattimeifoundit2'>><</link>><<setcunning +1>></li> <li><<link '"Gold and a roof over my head."' 'aylaiwaslookingforsomethingallthattimeifoundit2'>><<setcunning +3>><</link>></li> </ul>

Ayla grunts softly. "Must be nice." <<include "aylaconvo1">>

She eyes you thoughtfully. "Gotcha." <<include "aylaconvo1">>

There's a long moment as the Mage seemingly debates what answer to give you. "I'm a guide," she says. "Or navigator. Mostly for 'vans and convoys and shit. People hire me to find them the best routes through the wild, guide them through places that aren't mapped well. You need someone who knows where to find enough water for twenty horses at the end of each night, what trail to take so you won't get bogged down in mud and have to backtrack. Sometimes rich nobles hire me for tours, too. Ask me to take them to secret ruins and whatnot." For the very time, she smiles to herself; the grin is wicked and sharp. "If they piss me off enough, I'll just leave 'em somewhere out of the way. I always give 'em a fake name, so…" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"That sounds like an interesting job. You must know every inch of the Continent."' 'aylathatsoundsinterestingjob'>><<setayla +1>><<set $aylaromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"We have a lot in common. I used to work as a guard for caravans."' 'aylawehavealotincommoncaravans'>><<setayla +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"It seems dangerous to piss off a bunch of nobles..."' 'aylaitseemsdangeroustopissoffnobles'>><<setcourage -1>><<setayla -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

She shrugs, looking just a little embarrassed. "Yeah. Guess so." <<include "aylaconvo1">>

She cocks her head. "Yeah? How'd that treat you?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Good. I liked being on the road, traveling around."' 'aylagoodilikebeingonroad'>><<setayla +1>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Good. I liked traveling with people and getting to hear their stories."' 'aylagoodilikedtravelingwithpeoplestories'>><<setloyal +1>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setintelligence +1>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"It was a job. Nothing more, nothing less."' 'aylaitwasajobnothingmore'>><<setloyal -1>><<setcompassionate -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I didn\'t really like it. I always felt like an outsider."' 'aylaididntreallylikeitoutsider'>><<setayla +1>><<setloyal -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Hated it. I hated having to deal with finicky merchants and Norms who treated me like dirt."' 'aylahatedithavingfinickymerchants'>><<setcourage +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Ayla nods. "I hear that." <<include "aylaconvo1">>

Ayla looks thoughtful. "Never thought of it that way. Huh." <<include "aylaconvo1">>

Ayla nods, looking nonplussed. "Huh." <<include "aylaconvo1">>

Ayla nods. "I hear that. I always felt the same way." Then she realizes she's said too much and looks quickly away. "I mean… never mind." <<include "aylaconvo1">>

She laughs a little. "I hear that. It's enough to make someone tear their hair out." <<include "aylaconvo1">>

She rolls her eyes. "What are they going to do? It's not like we run in the same social circles." <<include "aylaconvo1">>

Finally, you fall silent as you climb a slope out of the city and Solhadur comes into view. The sight momentarily shocks your group to a standstill. The castle is a magnificent testimony to the ravages of time: you can still see how legendary the place must have looked back when it was in use, a sprawling and massive collection of towering buildings reaching heavenward as they sit on the shores of a massive mirror-like lake, the colorful roofs and fanciful spires making the whole thing look like a giant's confectionery. The place looks big enough to be a township of its own, and must have housed thousands of Mages in its heyday. Now the colorful stone has fallen dull and streaked with grime, and many of the towers are crumbling and in disrepair. A sense of terrible loneliness pervades the place; although it has only been two hundred years since it was officially occupied, it might as well have been millennia, going by how desolate Solhadur looks. <<nobr>><<if $education is "Circle-trained">> The sight fills you with <<cycle "_feelings" autoselect>> <<option 'longing and relief. Despite its ruinous appearance, you missed this place.'>> <<option 'dread and trepidation. Could anyone still be here?'>> <<option 'sadness and loss. It hurts that this place was so utterly destroyed by the Autarchy.'>> <<option 'resentment and anger. It\'s not fair. They took <i>everything</i> from your people.'>> <</cycle>> <br><br> <<include "castlei">> <<else>> <<include "castlei">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Chase whistles. "So this is it," he says, his tone unusually neutral. He's already scanning the buildings with the gimlet eye of a seasoned looter; in the back of the group, Ayla seems to be doing the same thing. "How do we get in?" Blade nods to the castle's wide-open gates. "This place must be well-defended, if the Circle has eluded the attention of the Autarchy for so long. I don't trust that gate for an instant." <ul class="choices"> <<if ($education is "Circle-trained") or ($magic gte 35 and $intelligence gte 30)>><li><<link 'You know the answer to this.' 'youknowanswertothisquestionbyblade'>><</link>></li><<else>><<disabled 'You know the answer to this.'>><</if>> <li><<link 'Defer to Ayla.' 'deferanswertoayla'>><</link>></li> </ul>

"See those statues?" You point to two rows of massive stone statues—representing Archmages of the past—lining the path past the front gates like a silent honor guard. "Those are wards, somewhat similar to what we have back at the Shepherds' compound. Among other things, the first set of wards scans our intentions once we step foot onto the campus. If we possess ill intent towards the Mages here, we won't be allowed to pass. If we don't, we'll be fine." "And if we're willing to arrest them based on any crimes they may have committed?" Blade asks with a skeptical arch of his brow. "Such as cavorting with demons?" "Then the wards <i>should</i> deem them not worthy of protection," you say. "<i>Should</i>," Ayla echoes, looking distinctly unimpressed. "I volunteer to go first," Chase says. He beams at Blade. "I'm not as arrest-happy as certain others." "I'm fine with that," Blade answers, stone-faced. "Let Chase go first, <<c firstname>>." <<include "castleii">>

She spends a few moments squinting at the features of the castle. "See those statues?" she asks finally, directing your attention to the two rows of massive stone statues—presumably representing Archamges of the past—lining the path past the front gates. "I've seen 'em before in other ruins. They're wards. The first set usually scans your thoughts and sees if you're, like, evil. Or wishing ill on the people here. If you are, you'll get your head chopped off or something. If you're innocent, you'll be fine." "And if we're willing to arrest the people here based on any crimes they may have committed?" Blade asks with a skeptical arch of his brow. "Such as cavorting with demons?" She shrugs. "Then maybe the wards will say they're not worthy of protecting anyway." "Maybe?" "I don't know. I never been here before, same as you!" "I volunteer to go first," Chase breaks in. He gives Blade a big, toothy grin. "I'm not as arrest-happy as certain others here." "I'm fine with that," Blade answers, stone-faced. "Let Chase go first, <<c firstname>>." <<include "castleii">>

<<nobr>><<if $chaseromanceflag gte 4>> He sweeps a bow. "Always happy to risk my life for you, <<c nickname>>." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "castleiii">>

<<nobr>><<if $blade gte 50 or $bladeromanceflag gte 5>> Blade sighs. "Never mind. I'll go first." <br><br> "Oh, my God," Ayla says, tapping her foot impatiently. "Can you all just make up your minds and get on with it?" <br><br> <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "castleiii">>

Eventually all of you make it past the threshold of the school. There's only a slight tingling sensation as you pass through the wards, a strange feeling of being assessed by some invisible and alien presence. Then the feeling fades, and you're left blinking in the sunny courtyard—and you suddenly find that you're being charged by a red-haired man bolting out of one of the castle's side doors. "Hey!" he shouts, waving his arms at you. Blade's hand moves to his sword, and Ayla unsheathes her quarterstaff. "Hey—you do <i>not</i> want to be here right now; you need to leave!" <<nobr>><<if $education is "Circle-trained">> Then he pulls up short when he catches sight of you. "Wait—<i><<c firstname>></i>?" <br><br> You stare back at him. "<i>Red</i>?" <br><br> The young man and you gawk at each other for a moment, taking each other in. His name is Liefred Antiqua, Red for short: he's another Mage who attended the Circle with you when you first joined at fourteen. You haven't seen each other in the years since you left. You'd half-forgotten how tall and straight-framed he was, with lightly-tan skin, vivid green eyes, and an improbable shock of sideswept red hair. Some would describe him as classically good-looking, with his intelligent gaze, bright grin, strong features, and generally warm and friendly expression; in fact, he was quite popular when the two of you were teenagers… <ul class="choices"> <<if $attractedto is not "women">><li><<link 'You were even sweethearts at one point!' 'youwereevensweetheartsatonepoint'>><<setred +15>><<set $redromanceflag += 1>><<set $redrelationship to "ex">><<set $redstatus to "He's acting normal around you, despite the fact that you were once sweethearts.">><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link 'Though the two of you were always just close friends.' 'thoughthetwoofyouwerealwaysjustclosefriends'>><<setred +10>><<set $redrelationship to "friend">><<set $redstatus to "He's extremely glad to see you; you're old friends.">><</link>></li> <li><<link 'But you barely noticed. You were just classmates and acquaintances.' 'butyoubarelynoticedclassmatesandacquaintances'>><<setred +3>><<set $redrelationship to "classmate">><</link>></li> <li><<link 'And you were always jealous of this. You considered each other rivals.' 'youwerealwaysjealousofredconsideredrivals'>><<set $redrelationship to "rival">><</link>></li> </ul> <<else>> Then he stops, taking the four of you in: Blade glaring at him while half-drawing his sword, Ayla looking ready to bolt. Chase looking pleasantly-interested—and then you, with your Mage eyes and glittering sun medallion. <br><br> "Shepherds," the man says breathlessly. He is tall and straight-framed, with lightly-tan skin, vivid green eyes, and an improbable shock of sideswept red hair. Some would describe him as classically good-looking, with his intelligent gaze, bright grin, and generally warm and friendly expression, though right now that expression is looking more concerned. Or terrified. "Look, I appreciate you coming, but I don't think it will help at all. It's better for you if you just leave—" <br><br> "Who are you?" Blade demands. <br><br> The man blinks, then looks around uncertainly. "Red," he says finally. "Red Antiqua. Short for Liefred." <br><br> "Are you the leader of the Mages here?" <br><br> Red pauses, then looks at you questioningly. He doesn't say it out loud, but the look in his clear green eyes is clear: he's asking you if it's safe to admit that there's a Circle here. As another Mage yourself, he must expect you to be honest. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Answer the question."' 'castleredelse'>><<setloyal +1>><<setcompassionate -1>><<setred -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"It\'s all right. We\'re here to help, not persecute you."' 'castleredelse'>><<setred +3>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Look away. You don\'t know him, and you don\'t owe him anything.' 'castleredelse'>><<setred -3>><<setloyal -1>><</link>></li> </ul> <</if>><</nobr>>

You broke up amicably when you left the Circle to go your own way; you never expected to see him here, of all places. "I thought you said you were leaving," you begin—but before you can finish your sentence, Red is stepping forward to envelop you in a tight hug. He smells of books and ink. When he draws back to look into your face, his looks happy… or confused. Or just a tiny bit fearful. <<include "redknow">>

You never expected to see him here, of all places. "I thought you said you were leaving the Circle," you begin—but before you can finish your sentence, your old friend is stepping forward to envelop you in a loose hug. He smells of old books and ink. <<include "redknow">>

He hesitates for a moment, then steps forward and clasps your shoulder in a formal gesture of welcome. <<include "redknow">>

He hesitates for a moment, looking as if he means to greet you or shake your hand, but decides to hang back. <<include "redknow">>

He sucks the air in through his teeth. "Without admitting anything in particular," he says slowly, "I'm—in charge here. Not of anything nefarious, mind you—" Before he can finish, though, someone pokes their head out of a window high up in one of the towers. "Hey, Archmage!" they shout. "How do you want us to move the volumes on demon-summoning? They're fragile, so—" Suddenly they trail off, spotting you standing there in the courtyard. "Oh, you're busy, so… never mind!" You turn back to look at Red, whose face has gone… well, red. "Oh, to Hael with it," he mutters. Then he sighs and closes his eyes. "You might as well come in. The wards said you didn't mean us harm, and you're Shepherds—maybe you can help us." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "redexplainsthings">><</link>></center>

"It's… good to see you," Red says, a bit awkwardly, as if he has no idea what else to say. His eyes dart over your face, no doubt taking in the differences in your appearance, just as you are doing to him; he looks a bit more broad-shouldered and athletic rather than lanky and a little gangling, in general more like the adult version of himself. "What are you even doing here?" You suddenly become very aware of the others watching you. <<romancecalc>> <<nobr>><<if $highestromance is "blade" and $bladeromanceflag gte 6>> Most notably, Blade's eyes travel back and forth between you and Red, his face suddenly unreadable. <<include "nothing">> <<elseif $highestromance is "chase" and $chaseromanceflag gte 4>> Most notably, Chase's eyes travel back and forth between you and Red, visibly curious. <<include "nothing">> <<elseif $highestromance is "ayla" or $aylaromanceflag gte 1 or $ayla gte 40>> Most notably, Ayla's eyes travel back and forth between the two of you, looking a bit resentful. <<include "nothing">> <<else>> <<include "nothing">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Red looks surprised for a moment; then rueful. "Ah. That." He glances at the side door he just ran out of. "That's what I was just coming to warn you about, actually. The wards told me some Shepherds had come, but…" He glances at you. "I never expected one of them to be you." <<include "nothingi">>

He grins, his eyes warm and affectionate. "Typical <<c firstname>>," he says. "You always did come running whenever you heard someone else was in trouble." He glances at the side door he just ran out of. "That's what I was just coming to warn you about, actually. The wards told me some Shepherds had come, but…" He glances at you. "I never expected one of them to be you." <<include "nothingi">>

Red frowns. "Seems sort of strange, taking your colleagues to your old stomping grounds for old times' sake," he comments, which means he doesn't believe you—but he lets your statement pass for now. He glances at the side door he just ran out of. "That's what I was just coming to warn you about, actually. The wards told me some Shepherds had come, but… I never expected one of them to be you." <<include "nothingi">>

"What did you want to warn us about?" Ayla demands. Red turns to her, still friendly despite her bluntness. "Well, it's complicated," he says, "but if <<c firstname>> is with you, I might as well tell you the full story. And who knows: maybe you can help." He looks to your companions, and introductions are made: Chase is friendly enough towards Red—though he's always friendly—whereas Blade and Ayla are distinctly more wary. "Let's get out of the wind while we talk," Red says, wincing as another cold gust slams through the courtyard. "Another storm's coming through tonight." Blade throws you a look of muted alarm as Red turns to lead you into the dark, cavernous doorway to the castle, the one that leads to the dining hall; you know the Ket swordsman doesn't like heading into 'enemy territory' without knowing the full story. But seeing Red, at least, has put you at ease. The Mages here couldn't be dabbling in the dark arts, not if he came out to greet you in such a mundane and normal way… …Right? <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Whisper to Blade. "Trust me. He\'s a good guy."' 'whispertohimtrustmehesgoodguy'>><<setred +1>><<setloyal +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Whisper to Blade. "Be on your guard."' 'whispertohimbeonyourguard'>><<setcunning +1>><<setcompassionate -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Whisper to Blade. "Let\'s just see how things play out."' 'whispertohimletsjustseehowthingsplayout'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Ignore him and keep walking.' 'redexplainsthings'>><<setblade -1>><<setloyal -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Blade grunts, as if he trusts that claim about as far as he can throw it, but he acquiesces and follows your lead into the depths of Solhadur. <<include "redexplainsthings">>

Blade nods once and keeps his hand on the hilt of his sword the entire walk into Solhadur. <<include "redexplainsthings">>

Blade makes a face, but he reluctantly follows your lead into the depths of Solhadur. <<include "redexplainsthings">>

Red leads you into the school's massive dining hall; the ceiling is so high that you think you'd need to stack twenty men to reach it, and the grey stones are so cold it feels as if you'd walked into an ice cabinet. He quickly stokes a fire in the giant hearth—without using magic, you note, which means he's being careful around the Shepherds—and invites you to sit at one of the many dining tables lined up against the famous stained-glass windows, once broken and now mended to keep out the cold. In one, a mural of a group of Mages fighting a dragon sends fiery rays of color across the floor; in another, a Mage climbs a cloudy staircase to converse with beings lurking in the heavens. <<nobr>><<if $education is "Circle-trained">> You're awed that one particular bench still sits beneath a spangled reel of faeries cloaking themselves in mist and moonlight, cracked and charred as the table is; it's the one that you used to sit at during all your celebrations and meals with the Circle. <</if>><</nobr>> Red brings a tray with steaming mugs of tea, though in the tense atmosphere, no one but him actually drinks. He seems to know that he's keeping you all in suspense and says, "I'll get on with it, then. <<nobr>><<if $education is "Circle-trained">> Yes, there's a problem in Capra: people are falling asleep and won't wake up. They can take water and food, with some work, so we can keep them alive until we find a cure, but the issue is spreading, and we're going to start losing people soon. No, whatever you heard, we didn't cause it. But we do think <i>it</i> is targeting us." <<else>> I assume you're here because of the issue in Capra? People falling asleep and not waking up? And the townspeople have told you it's our fault, right? That we've summoned some kind of 'Specter'?" <br><br> "You have the brunt of it," Chase says cheerfully. <br><br> Red sighs. "I know you don't have any particular reason to believe us, but we didn't cause it. But we do think <i>it</i> is targeting us." <</if>><</nobr>> "What is <i>it</i>?" Blade asks shortly. Red sighs. "We're not totally sure. The townspeople call it the Specter—some of our people think it's a curse…" He pauses for a moment and looks at you searchingly, then sighs and says: "I have my own theories. First and foremost… have you ever heard of the Faceless Lords?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"You have no idea."' 'redexplainsthingsii'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"What haven\'t I heard about them?"' 'redexplainsthingsii'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Oh $god, <i>this</i> again?"' 'redexplainsthingsii'>><</link>></li> </ul>

<<nobr>><<if $education is "Circle-trained">> You quickly detail everything that's been going on in Haven since you arrived, and also spend just a little time catching Red up on how you became a Shepherd in the first place. <<else>> At Red's quizzical look, you briefly explain your past missions—and your past encounters with the Faceless Lords. <</if>> <<if $blaphemeldead is true>> You detail how you killed the Prince of Madness, Blaphemel. <</if>> <<if $clochusdead is true>> Chase chimes in with how you faced down Clochus, the Devourer, and rent its essence to pieces. <</if>><</nobr>> Red listens intently, then says: "That's both terrifying and sort of relieving—about the other Faceless Lords, that is. It means we haven't been the only ones dealing with this." He takes his turn detailing what the Veiled Circle has been dealing with: the first Mages fell asleep during midsummer, and from there it was a slow and insidious spread through Capra. "We couldn't turn to anyone for help, of course," Red says. "Our very existence is condemned by the Autarchy. Inquisitors and those who would usually deal with things like this would rather see us burn to the ground than give us aid. So I started doing my own research. And…" He hesitates again, then forges on. "I found some old archives, tucked away in a hidden library far out in the wilds, near a place called Garen Township. Records that were written by a Mage named Weyellan the Lifegiver. Ever heard of him?" <ul class="choices"> <<if $intelligence gte 35>><li><<link 'Yes, the name rings a bell.' 'yesthenameringsabellred'>><</link>></li><<else>><<disabled "Yes, the name rings a bell.">><</if>> <li><<link 'Shake your head.' 'shakeyourheadatred'>><</link>></li> </ul>

"He was an Archmage of the distant past," you recall. "A Healer who had congress with an Endarkened." Red nods, ignoring the little gasps and looks of shock from around the table. "One of the only recorded cases of an apparently-harmonious union between an Endarkened possessor and her mortal vessel," he says. "Weyellan, a Healer, and Zere, a Cacophant who fed on pain. A fascinating paradox, to put it mildly. Moreso because they even seemed to cooperate, maybe even like each other—on the surface, anyway." He shakes his head. "Whatever the case, Weyellan left behind notes and journal entries before he disappeared forever. And through the notes of the Lifegiver and his Endarkened companion, we learned about the nature of one of the most mysterious Faceless Lords. There's Blaphemel, of course, the Prince of Madness, and Clochus, the Devourer… and there's Quiial, the Eater of Dreams." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "redexplainsthingsiii">><</link>></center>

"He was an Archmage of the distant past," Red explains. "Though his statue was eventually torn down from the school that instated him. He was a great Healer, a formidable academic… and one of the only people ever recorded to achieve a harmonious union between his Endarkened possessor and himself." There are little gasps around the table, and even Ayla's spine goes stiff with shock. Red continues, unperturbed: "Yes, he was host to an Endarkened… parasite seems like a harsh word, given how <i>human</i> his entries make her seem. <i>Demonic attaché</i>, we'll say. Zere was her name." He shakes his head. "Anyway, Weyellan left behind notes and journal entries before he disappeared forever. He learned through his demon companion Zere about many things, including the nature of Hael and one of its mysterious Faceless Lords. It's because of him that we know a lot of what we do about the Endarkened. We always knew about Blaphemel, of course, the Prince of Madness, and Clochus, the Devourer… but the nature of the third one always eluded us, until Weyellan." He takes a breath. "Quiial, the Dream-Eater." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "redexplainsthingsiii">><</link>></center>

Red looks down and toys with the handle of his chipped mug as he continues. "The Faceless Lords don't need to be summoned to this plane like most other Endarkened do. They slip through the worldwalls between Blest and Hael in cycles, like natural disasters. But their coming always precludes something big. It's said that they're connected directly back to the Archdemon itself, the vessel of Tapyt and ruler and arbiter of all Endarkened. They're like… the Archdemon's limbs into this world, its tendrils. When they cause violence in this world, or madness, or whatever else they feed on, they grow stronger; and the worldwalls dividing them from their source grow weaker; and they feed that power back to their central hub, the Archdemon. I don't know if that makes any sense. Basically, the Archdemon's like the stomach and they're like the mouths. Only these mouths actively cause the destruction they eat." He looks back up at you. "Now, you know about some of the other Faceless Lords: Blaphemel fed on madness, and Clochus on sloth, and the more those two caused those things on this plane and amongst the Children of Light, the more they fed on them and grew. I don't know what the other two do; but I do know that Quiial, the Dream-Eater—" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Eats dreams. We get it."' 'redexplainsthingsiv'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Let him go on. ' 'redexplainsthingsiv'>><</link>></li> </ul>

"—preys on sleeping minds, yes, but it doesn't just devour dreams. I think it eats <i>knowledge</i>. Memories. Power. And also… fear." "Well, that sounds terrifying," Chase says. "And that's what you think is happening to Capra?" Red nods, looking uncharacteristically grave. "That's my theory, anyway. I think—in the same way Clochus created Black Sun and trapped Haven's citizens into an eternally-slothful <<if $troubleequalist is true>>state, and Blaphemel lured the Equalists into madness and fed on their delusions<<else>>state<</if>>—Quiial is locking people into an eternal sleep, feeding slowly from their minds and growing stronger from… well, I'm not sure what, but it's clearly sapping them of <i>something</i>. Knowledge? Potential? Secrets? Terror? It might steal away their memories, their minds, everything that makes them thinking people, and leaves them comatose. Or perhaps it traps them in a never-ending nightmare and torments them, growing stronger from their fear. Or maybe both." "Why did it start with the Mages here?" Blade asks him, looking tense and grave in his black uniform. Red shrugs. "Truthfully, I can only guess. I monitor every Mage's activities here, and none of them ever got close to summoning an Endarkened, let alone a Faceless Lord. We just don't have the resources or the knowledge here, and it's not like we can go out without the others noticing. It's a really tight-knit community. My only guess is that Quiial was suddenly awakened, same as the other Faceless Lords you faced, and it started targeting us first because we have more knowledge for it to steal than regular citizens. We're probably more—enticing? Useful? No offense, of course." He grimaces then. "And if I'm right, it will probably use all of the pilfered spellcraft and forbidden secrets it steals from us to wreak havoc… once it's powerful enough to fully manifest on this plane." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"What do you mean, powerful enough to manifest? Isn\'t it already here?"' 'redexplainsthingv'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"If you have such a good guess on what it is, why haven\'t you destroyed it?"' 'redexplainsthingv'>><</link>></li> </ul>

"Ah," Red says. "It turns out Quiial operates differently than the other Faceless Lords in one key way. It seems to exist in its own realm, a place that's neither Hael nor Blest, neither Void nor World of Light. It seems to live in a place Zere called the Phantom Shore: some sort of realm of dreams and nightmares. It seems to hide there until it's strong enough to come out into our world—which it achieves, again, by feeding on the minds of the dreamers it traps in the Phantom Shore first. It eventually swaps places with them, as it were." "How are you going to kill it, then?" Ayla challenges. She finally makes a grab for her tea, signaling that she trusts Red. For now. "Sounds like if you fall asleep, and go to where it is, that's where it has control. So you'll get trapped there, and it'll sap you… then you'll just make it stronger. So how do you destroy it?" <<nobr>><<if $education is "Circle-trained">> He looks rueful. "Well, truthfully, I sort of thought I wasn't ever going to get the chance to try," Red answers. "We're actually in the process of packing up and leaving Solhadur now. It was the only solution I could think of, until…" He glances at you, one fast and darting look. "Until you came back, <<c firstname>>." He clears his throat and looks to the others. "None of the other Mages are strong enough to confront the thing, you see. Many of them are still students, young beginners, or otherwise just… gentle souls. Researchers. Instructors. Academics. We're not exactly an enclave of warriors here." <<include "redconvo">> <<else>> He looks rueful. "Well, truthfully, I sort of thought I wasn't ever going to get the chance to try," Red answers. "We're actually in the process of packing up and leaving Solhadur now. It was the only solution I could think of, until… well, until you all came here." He clears his throat and looks to the others. "None of the other Mages are strong enough to confront the thing, you see. Many of them are still students, young beginners, or otherwise just… gentle souls. Researchers. Instructors. Academics. We're not exactly an enclave of warriors here." <<include "redconvo2">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Red puts up his hands. "What else could I do?" he asks. "I have to look after everyone, and I can't make them fight. I wasn't going to sit around and let them all get… dream-eaten." <<include "redconvo2">>

"Like I said, packing. There's a lot to condense when it comes to a centuries-old castle." He sighs. "When the wards went off, I thought some poor souls had stumbled their way into this place. I knew they were well-meaning—the guardians told me so—but I took off sprinting to get them out of here, in case they attracted Quiial's attention…" He laughs slightly, though the look he gives you is kind. "Well, it's a bit late now… but I'm glad, at least, that it was Shepherds who showed up, of all people." <<include "redconvo2">>

"You mean because of the demon or because of the Autarchy?" Red asks humorously. He puts his hands up at the sardonic looks this earns him. "I'm kidding. Truth be told, we've been here for many years. The wards and the walls have kept us safe for—well, since before I came here as a boy. It's hard to want to leave them, when so much out there is dangerous and uncertain for the group." He scratches the back of his head. "…We weren't expecting a demon to come for us in our sleep, of course." <<include "redconvo2">>

Red grimaces. "That's true," he says slowly. "Usually Archmages—the leaders and headmasters of Circles—need a few decades under their belts. Some accreditation, et cetera. Unfortunately, our old Archmage passed shortly before I graduated—old age, his mother was Archmage before him here, during the Castigation—and for whatever reason, he chose me to be his successor." He spreads his hands. "And I'm all they have, unfortunately." <<include "redconvo2">>

Red puts up his hands. "What else could I do?" he asks. "I have to look after everyone, <<c firstname>>. I wasn't going to sit around and let them all get… dream-eaten." <<include "redconvo">>

"Like I said, packing. We can talk to them in a bit once we're done here." He sighs. "When the wards went off, I thought some poor souls had stumbled their way into this place. I knew they were well-meaning—the guardians told me so—but I took off sprinting to get them out of here, in case they attracted Quiial's attention…" He laughs slightly, though the look he gives you is affectionate. "Well, it's a bit late for that now… but I'm sure your arrival has the creature quivering in its boots." <<include "redconvo">>

"You mean because of the demon or because of the Autarchy?" Red asks humorously. He puts his hands up at the sardonic looks this earns him. "I'm kidding. Truth be told, after you left, <<c firstname>>, we've had to batten down our hatches and stay put here. Some things happened, and, well… you know as well as I do that these wards and these walls have kept us safe for a long time. It's hard to want to leave them when so much out there is dangerous and uncertain for the group." He scratches the back of his head. "…We weren't expecting a demon to come for us in our sleep, of course. But to answer your question, it was a mix of luck and the excellent defenses the Mages before us installed in place." <<include "redconvo">>

He grimaces, then looks at you. "Well, that's the thing," he begins slowly. <<nobr>><<if $redrelationship is "ex" or $redrelationship is "friend">> He reaches out and covers one of your hands with his: a familiar gesture. <</if>><</nobr>> "You asked me why I didn't leave the Circle when you did. When I was supposed to; when we graduated. It's because… I'm Archmage now. Archmage Tevanti died." You feel struck for a moment, as if by a fist. Archmage Tevanti was the leader of your Circle, one of your primary instructors but also the mentor and guide for you all. He led you, protected you, made sure each and every one of you was housed and fed… He was a kindly soul, gentle and quiet. The kind of man who loved to watch the bees returning to their hives at sunset; who always kept a bit of candy in his pocket for the young ones. You always knew he was very old: his mother had been Solhadur's last true Archmage before the Castigation. He was the master of the castle by birthright, and it was his family's ancient (and cleverly-seeded) investments that have kept the place going all this time. But... dead? When the words leave your lips, they sound airless, though maybe your tone is steadier than you think. "When?" Red's eyes are on the table, and now he no longer quite meets anyone's gaze. "A few sennights after you left. A wasting sickness; he'd been hiding it from all of us." He looks up, and though his eyes are dry, his expression is hurt and sad, as if the death were still fresh. "He chose me to be his successor. After that, I couldn't leave… though I sometimes wonder if he'd meant for you to have it." You're not sure if this is true or if Red is simply being modest. Although you'd always shown the greatest magical potential among your peer group, Red had always been the most popular, the most anchored. However, you also knew he had dreams of his own: he is a Traveler, the kind of Conjurer who can teleport himself across vast distances in a process called translocation. Traveler Mages of the past were most often adventurers, explorers and mappers of remote regions people couldn't normally traverse, or otherwise important messengers and couriers across continents. You always thought he wanted to use his powers to explore Blest and unearth its secret histories; to pick through remote ruins and hear the arcane whispers of the past. Not to stay rooted in Solhadur. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Congratulations."' 'congratulationsredoption'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'m so sorry to hear about Archmage Tevanti. I\'ll miss him."' 'redimsosorrytoheararchamgetevanti'>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Did you even want the responsibility? Did he ask you?"' 'didyouevenwantheresponsibilityred'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Regardless of his past aspirations, being named Archmage is still a great honor. Red looks rueful as he says, "Well, thanks, though I hardly ever know what I'm doing around here. At least I still get to travel around and explore when I can, do research on my own. It's only lately that I've needed to be here full-time, scrambling around to figure how to get us out of this mess with this Endarkened." He sighs and looks at you. "I'm glad you're here now, too." <<include "redinchargei">>

You'd always meant to visit again someday; somehow the idea of the old man passing away had never occurred to you. Your heart feels as heavy as iron with this news, <<nobr>><<if $compassionate gte 70>> and you even find yourself brushing away a quick stray tear for a moment. <<else>> though you remain composed and calm. <</if>><</nobr>> "I miss him, too," Red says heavily. <<include "redinchargei">>

Red looks distinctly awkward as the others all look at him. "Well," he says, clearing his throat but forging on smoothly enough: "It hasn't been such a terrible burden. I still have the freedom to travel around and explore when I can, do research on my own. It's sort of nice to have someplace to call home, which wouldn't have really happened if I'd struck out on my own." He looks around at the crumbling walls. "Though in this case, we're going to have to vacate this place soon enough." <<include "redinchargei">>

Suddenly you notice how tired he looks, the grey thumbprints under his eyes from lack of sleep. He <i>has</i> grown, this Red you once knew; the lanky, laughing boy who flirted with everybody and always got lost in his books is now a very real adult. It's a peculiar feeling, to feel as if he's at once so familiar and strange to you; both a comforting presence and acutely mysterious. <ul class="choices"> <<if $redrelationship is "ex" or $redrelationship is "friend">><li><<link 'Reach out and touch the circles under his eyes. He\'s still the same Red, in some ways, and you are the same <<c firstname>>. "You look like you need some sleep."' 'reachouttouchcirclesundereyes'>><<setred +3>><<set $redromanceflag += 2>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link 'Hold his gaze with determination. "Don\'t worry. We\'re going to help you."' 'holdhisgazedetermination'>><<setloyal +1>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Look away. "It feels strange, to be back here. It all happened so fast, coming here; I didn\'t really process it..."' 'lookawayitfeelsstrangebackhereprocess'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Red's breath jumps a little at your touch, but he smiles at you with the ease of an old friend. His eyes are warm as he stares back at you. "After all of this, I'm going to take the world's longest nap," he jokes lightly. You laugh. "Under that old apple tree by the lake?" "You know me well." <<include "redinchargeii">>

Red smiles. "I don't doubt it. I'll take all the help I can get—especially from you, <<c firstname>>." <<include "redinchargeii">>

He smiles, a trace bitterly. "Did you ever think you'd see me here again?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I did. I hoped to, anyway."' 'ididihopedtoredanyway'>><<setred +1>><<set $redromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"No, honestly. I thought you left."' 'nohonestlyithoughtyouleftred'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I didn\'t think about it."' 'ididntthinkaboutitred'>><<setred -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

He smiles. "Well, that makes me happy to hear," Red says lightly. <<include "redinchargeii">>

He drops his gaze. "Right." <<include "redinchargeii">>

He laughs. "Ouch." <<include "redinchargeii">>

<<nobr>><<if $redrelationship is "ex">> <<if $highestromance is "blade" or $bladeromanceflag gte 6>> Blade is watching this exchange very keenly. "Who are you to each other?" he asks suddenly. <<elseif $highestromance is "chase" or ($chaseromanceflag gt $aylaromanceflag and $chaseromanceflag gt 2) or ($chaseromanceflag gt $bladeromanceflag and $chaseromanceflag gt 2)>> Chase looks back and forth between the two of you, his gaze perceptive and coolly interested. "So did the two of you ever…?" <<elseif ($aylaromanceflag gt $bladeromanceflag) or ($aylaromanceflag gt $chaseromanceflag)>> Ayla is staring at the two of you, hard. "What's going on between the two of you?" she demands. <<else>> Ayla is looking bored by this exchange. "So what's the deal between the two of you?" she asks. <</if>> <br><br> You and Red look at each other. "We used to date," Red admits truthfully. "When we were teenagers, of course. School sweethearts and all that. At the Circle we call it 'dallying.'" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"It lasted for all of six weeks, mind."' 'itlastedsixweeksmind'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"It was young puppy love..."' 'youngpuppylovered'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"He was my first kiss."' 'heredwasmyfirstkiss'>><</link>></li> <<if $ace is false or $aroace is false>><li><<link '"It was a physical relationship, nothing more."' 'itwasphysicalrelationshipnothingmorered'>><<set $redromanceflag -= 1>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link 'Say nothing. The past is the past for a reason.' 'redexflavor'>><</link>></li> </ul> <<else>> <<include "panneonentrance">> <</if>><</nobr>>

"I was just the latest in his long string of dalliances and flirtations," you add wryly. "He was quite the playboy back then." "That's not true," Red exclaims. "I was a normal teenager with a regular amount of friends!" He glances at you. "And you were the last person I was with here: there was no <i>string</i> after." <<include "redexflavor">>

"I was so infatuated with him," you joke. "He was the popular one, of course. Everybody wanted to be with him. He was quite the playboy, if you can believe it." Red almost blushes. "That's not true," he says to the others. "I was a normal teenager with a regular social life." He glances at you. "And you were the last person I was with here, you know." <<include "redexflavor">>

"Though I wasn't his," you joke. "He was quite the playboy back then: he had a whole string of people just dying to be with him." "That is not true," Red exclaims. "I was a normal teenager with a regular social life!" He glances at you. "And you were the last person I was with in that <i>string</i>, you know." <<include "redexflavor">>

Red smiles, though it seems a bit forced. <<include "redexflavor">>

<<nobr>><<if $highestromance is "blade" and $bladeromanceflag gte 6>> "And you… separated?" Blade continues tersely. His expression seems tight, like it's difficult for him to grind the words out. You notice that he has one fist clenched on the tabletop, though he carefully moves it out of your vision when he notices you looking. "Why?" <<elseif $highestromance is "chase" or ($chaseromanceflag gt $aylaromanceflag and $chaseromanceflag gt 2) or ($chaseromanceflag gt $bladeromanceflag and $chaseromanceflag gt 2)>> Chase taps his finger on his chin. "So why'd you break up?" He keeps his posture languid and nonchalant, but you notice his foot, balanced on his knee, is vibrating with some unseen energy. <<elseif ($aylaromanceflag gt $bladeromanceflag) or ($aylaromanceflag gt $chaseromanceflag)>> Ayla snorts. "Sounds like it didn't last long. Why'd you break up?" <<else>> "Why'd you break up?" Chase asks, with all the blitheness of a child. <</if>><</nobr>> Red glances at you. "You know, I half-forget, it was so long ago…" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Answer truthfully.' 'answertruthfullyredex'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Deflect like he does.' 'deflectlikehedoesredex'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Say nothing at all. ' 'saynothingatallredex'>><</link>></li> </ul>

"I knew I was leaving the Circle soon," you admit. "Once you finish your studies, you have the option to travel and make your own way in the world… or stay. I wanted to see more of Blest, and I figured the relationship wasn't serious enough for a long-distance venture—since it was a school fling—so it was sort of understood between us that it was going to end with no hard feelings. We were just young and fooling around…" "Right," Red echoes, clearing his throat a bit awkwardly. "That was it, now I remember." <<include "panneonentrance">>

"You know, I don't really remember either," you agree. Inwardly, however, you remember perfectly well. You'd assumed that what you and Red had was not serious: it was, as he called it, a school romance, teens exploring things with each other, flirting and playing around. When it was time for you to leave the Circle, it was obvious that the relationship between you was not a long-distance commitment: that had been made clear to you in the way Red had dated and broken up with the multitudes of people before you, like a hummingbird flitting to different flowers. You'd never bothered to ask him to take anything more seriously, already knowing the answer, and so you'd parted on amicable terms, as friends. <<include "panneonentrance">>

Inwardly, however, you remember perfectly well. You'd assumed that what you and Red had was not serious: it was, as he called it, a school romance, teens exploring things with each other, flirting and playing around. When it was time for you to leave the Circle, it was obvious that the relationship between you was not a long-distance commitment: that had been made clear to you in the way Red had dated and broken up with the multitudes of people before you, like a hummingbird flitting to different flowers. You'd never bothered to ask him to take anything more seriously, already knowing the answer, and so you'd parted on amicable terms, as friends. <<include "panneonentrance">>

Before anyone else can speak, there's a creaking at the far end of the dining hall as the door swings open. <<nobr>><<if $education is "Circle-trained">> A few heads you recognize pop in. "Red? What's taking you so long?" <br><br> <<include "panneonrecog">> <<else>> You stand as a few Mages come in, pausing and regarding your table warily. One is a brown-haired, friendly-looking young man with a playful expression; the other is a short, stouter man with spectacles and an odd, round helmet clamped over his head. <br><br> "Who are you?" the brown-haired man asks, blinking. <br><br> You go through the whole thing again, making your introductions and explaining why you came. The brown-haired man turns out to be a Shifter name Panrachus—Pan for short—while his helmeted companion is named Saleneon, or Neon, a Binder. <br><br> "You've got the look of someone who went here," Pan comments, frowning slightly at you. "Were you a student here? I don't remember you." <br><br> You shake your head. <ul class="choices"> <<if $education is "Self-taught">><li><<link 'You proudly tell him you taught yourself magic. You didn\'t need anyone but your own wits. ' 'proudlytellhimyoutaughtyourselfmagic'>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $education is "Journeyman">><li><<link 'You proudly tell him you were apprenticed to your own personal mentor, Belnus Farplane.' 'proudlytellhimmentorbelnusfarplane'>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link 'You\'re a little ashamed of your humble origins. All of this grandeur and academia is intimidating.' 'panneonentrancei'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'You <i>wish</i> you\'d gone here. All of these resources would have given you quite the advantage when you were learning magic.' 'panneonentrancei'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li> </ul> <</if>><</nobr>>

Pan nods slowly, taking this in. You can't read the expression on Red's face: it's something like thoughtful. "Good on you," he says. "Don't know too many Mages who figured it out all on their own. You must be a survivor." <<include "panneonentrancei">>

Pan tilts his head. "Haven't heard the name," he says, "but I'm sure he was great." <<include "panneonentrancei">>

Neon, who tends to be quieter than the other two, gives Red a nervous glance. He's slighter than his companion, seeming more humble and shy. "Are you going to show them the machine, then?" <<include "panneonentranceii">>

You turn to Red just as he grimaces. <<include "machine">>

You stand as the two Mages pause and regard your table warily—then, recognizing you, they rush forward all at once. Here are more of your old schoolmates, now taller, more mature-looking: you immediately notice Panrachus, Pan for short, a friendly Shifter who was always changing his appearance to prank your teachers; and Saleneon, or Neon, a stolid Binder who has always been one of Red's most loyal followers. "<i><<c firstname>></i>?" Pan says incredulously. "What in the eight hells are you doing here?" However, both he and Neon look delighted to see you. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Embrace them. You were all part of the same circle of friends.' 'panneonrecogi'>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Shake their hands. You weren\'t very close, but it warms your heart to see more familiar faces.' 'panneonrecogi'>><<setloyal +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Nod to them. They\'re past acquaintances, nothing more and nothing less.' 'panneonrecogi'>><<setloyal -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

You and Red briefly re-explain the circumstances that brought you here, including things that transpired after you left the Circle, some of the travels you went on, how you ended up with the Shepherds, and what you now do with them. (You also notice that Blade watches you mingle with the others with a stern, serious look of vague discomfort, though this is hard to read; Ayla with a pinched expression, almost of sadness or anger; and Chase simply with his usual gaze of mild, benevolent interest.) Pan lifts his eyebrows when you're done with your recounting, looking impressed. He's a square-jawed, blunt-faced young man with cropped brown hair and a light dusting of freckles. "So you've faced off with the real thing, then? With… a Faceless Lord? That's like the highest level of demon there is—and you're just a new recruit!" <<nobr>> <<if $facelesslordsdead gt 0>> <br><br> "<<c she>> didn't just face off with a Faceless Lord," Red corrects, sounding a bit proud, "$she shredded it to pieces, down to its very essence." <<elseif $troubleequalist>> <br><br> "<<c she>> didn't just face off with a Faceless Lord," Red corrects, sounding a bit proud, "$she's already confronted <i>two</i>."<</if>> <<if $rank is "Captain">> <br><br> "And $she<<if $plural is true>>'re<<else>>'s<</if>> a captain now, not a recruit," Blade also interjects, folding his arms. <</if>><</nobr>> Neon, who tends to be quieter than the other two, gives Red a nervous glance. He's shorter than his companion, blond and bespectacled, with a round, polished helmet on his head that he rarely ever removes. You know it's bound up with the energy or spirit of something, but Neon has never revealed what that is. "Are you going to show $them the machine, then?" You turn to Red just as he grimaces. <<include "machine">>

<<if $education is "Circle-trained">> <<include "tour1">> <<else>> <<include "tour2">> <</if>>

The "tour" that Red gives you on the way to the elusive <i>machine</i> is brief; everywhere, other Mages hustle and bustle between rooms, largely ignoring you as they concentrate on stuffing prized books, writing materials, and artifacts into innocuous mulebags or little pockets of space to retrieve later. You can't help but stare: there must be at least a hundred Mages gathered here, and who knows how many Solhadur held in its heyday. The school's dilapidated exterior is an illusion, Red explains to you, to deter scavengers or looters from approaching the place; on its interior, Solhadur has been much better preserved due to the efforts of the Circle. While the majority of the books here were burned and many of the previous students taken captive or driven out by the Autarchy, the shell of the school has remained, housing several generations of the Mages who came to reoccupy it after the Castigation. As he said, the final moving process—or evacuation—of the place is well underway, but on the way you're still particularly interested in… <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '...the magnificent library, the scarred shelves of which still hold a large collection of pilfered texts. You could spend hours and hours reading there.' 'tour2i'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '...the grand courtyard with its wisteria trees, where you imagine the more intrepid students could spar and train.' 'tour2i'>><<setcourage +1>><<setstrength +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '...the cavernous oratorium, where Red says the students would host makeshift shows or passionate debates.' 'tour2i'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '...the rooftops of the buildings: those would be perfect for looking out at Capra or even playing pranks on other students.' 'tour2i'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '...the small campus temple, where some devout students still attend daily prayer.' 'tour2i'>><<setfaith +3>><</link>></li> </ul>

Red notices you looking around and smiles at you. "When this is all over," he says, "assuming we survive, I can show you around in more detail. It's not often that I get to show off our old home. And there's a lot of interesting history here." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I would love that!"' 'iwouldlovethatred'>><<setred +1>><<setintelligence +1>><<set $redromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Sure, maybe." At the moment, you have more important things on your mind.' 'tour2ii'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Aren\'t you leaving this place, though? It\'s not going to matter in a few days."' 'arentyouleavingthisplacered'>><<setred -3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"It makes me kind of sad, actually."' 'itmakesmekindofsadactuallyred'>><</link>></li> </ul>

He smiles at your enthusiasm. "All the more reason to come back quickly, then." <<include "tour2ii">>

His step falters before he resumes speaking casually. "That's true, I suppose," he says. "I guess it's more important to the people who live here to appreciate it before we leave, rather than strangers." <<include "tour2ii">>

Red cocks his head. "Why's that?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"All of this culture, all of this knowledge... all destroyed because of the Autarchy."' 'allofthiscultureredknowledge'>><<setloyal -1>><<setred +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"It makes me wish for what could have been. I wish I could have learned here."' 'itmakesmewishsomethingbeenred'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"It\'s sad that you have to leave it."' 'itssdayouhavetoleaveitred'>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

He sighs. "I know," he says quietly, his eyes roaming over the cracked stone walls. "I agree." <<include "tour2ii">>

Red's lips quirk briefly. "If all goes well," he says gently, "you'd be welcome to stay here. We're all like a family here in the Circle—you could be among other Mages, if you wanted." He pauses. "Though, with the town's attention on us, I don't suppose we'll be sticking around for much longer either way." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"That... that sounds nice, actually."' 'tour2ii'>><<setred +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Smile at him. "Thank you. That\'s kind."' 'tour2ii'>><<setred +1>><<set $redromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Shake your head. "Thanks, but no thanks. My place is with the Shepherds."' 'tour2ii'>><<setblade +1>><<setchase +1>><<setloyal +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"No. The Circle doesn\'t seem right for me."' 'nothecircledoesntseemrightred'>><</link>></li> </ul>

"Thanks, though," you amend at Red's awkward suggestion. He coughs. "Don't mention it." <<include "tour2ii">>

Red smiles briefly. "True," he says, looking around; his gaze is fond. "But as the old Archmage always used to tell me: '<i>it's not the walls that make the Circle, but the people</i>.' Wherever we go, we'll be able to make it our home." <<include "tour2ii">>

Finally your group reaches one of the classrooms. However, when Red opens the door, you find not the usual trestle desks and shelves you were expecting, but an enormous, inert green orb. The orb easily fills the majority of the room—you would need your entire group and more to link arms around it—and is forged from a deep green kind of glass, wrapped in strange gold bands that look like the interlocking rings of alien planets. If you look closely, deeper gold veins glitter secretly beneath the surface of the near-black glass. <<include "chasewhistle">>

The "tour" that you give the others as Red guides you to the elusive <i>machine</i> is brief for the moment; everywhere, other Mages—both strange and familiar—hustle and bustle between rooms, largely ignoring you as they concentrate on stuffing prized books, writing materials, and artifacts into innocuous mulebags or little pockets of space to retrieve later. The old castle is mostly how you remember it, warmer and more furnished on the inside than its dilapidated exterior would lead many to expect. This is an illusion, you explain to the others, to deter scavengers or looters from approaching the place; on its interior, the school has been much better preserved due to the efforts of the Circle. While the majority of the books here were burned and many of the previous students taken captive by the Autarchy, the shell of the school has remained, ready to be rebuilt by the long generations of Mages who came to occupy it afterward. There are the same cozy nooks you remember here, the same worn statues or suits of armor there… The tattered flags of Solhadur, gold and turquoise, are still emblazoned against the ash-stone walls, displaying the proud symbols of a crown emerging from the sun, moon, and stars. As Red said, the final moving process—or evacuation—of the place is well underway, but on the way you still make sure to point out to the others… <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '...the magnificent library, the scarred shelves of which still hold a large collection of pilfered texts. You could spend hours and hours reading there.' 'tour1i'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '...the grand courtyard with its wisteria trees, where the more intrepid students (with you among them) could spar and train, or simply bask in the sunlight.' 'tour1i'>><<setcourage +1>><<setstrength +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '...the cavernous oratorium, where the students would host makeshift shows or passionate debates—you even participated in a few yourself.' 'tour1i'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '...the rooftops of the buildings, where you used to hide out from your teachers and drop grapes down onto unsuspecting scholars below.' 'tour1i'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '...the small campus temple, where you once attended daily prayer.' 'tour1i'>><<setfaith +3>><</link>></li> </ul>

Finally your group reaches one of the classrooms, where you remember taking the dizzyingly-difficult Mechanics of Space from dowdy old Master Huron. However, when Red opens the door, you find not the usual trestle desks and shelves, but an enormous, inert green orb. The orb easily fills the majority of the room—you would need your entire group and more to link arms around it—and is forged from a deep green kind of glass, wrapped in strange gold bands that look like the interlocking rings of alien planets. If you look closely, deeper gold veins glitter secretly beneath the surface of the near-black glass. <<include "chasewhistle">>

Chase whistles just as Red, Neon, and Panrachus file in and close the door. "You must have had a devil of a time getting that in here," he remarks. "What is it?" Ayla asks, folding her arms and staring up at the orb as if she expects the thing to roll off of its enormous pedestal and squash her. "It looks… sort of familiar. The way it shines. Sort of looks like the <i>iladrin</i>." Red clears his throat, a bit nervously. "It's something I found," he begins after taking a breath. "Before any of this happened with Quiial. It's more related to my research. You see, I've been interested in something called the Worldwalkers, or the <i>Synestra</i>, for a long while now. According to legend, they were a group of Mages who supposedly existed a thousand years ago—" He's starting to talk faster and more animatedly. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Focus, Red. Give us the short version."' 'focusredgiveshortversion'>><<setred -3>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Let him give you the full explanation. ' 'lethimgiveyoufullexplanationred'>><<setred +1>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

He sighs, as if very used to this reaction. "The Worldwalkers were Travelers, like me," Red explains. "Only instead of translocating across great distances: teleporting"—he explains to the others—"they translocated <i>between worlds</i>. There are a multitude of worlds, you see, not just Blest and Hael: countless other planes, some of which are similar to ours and some of which are totally alien. The Worldwalkers would visit these worlds, explore them and record their observations in secret, and they were even known to bring some things back from them. That's supposedly where we get our khav from, which originally came from this bean called coffee—" "Focus, Red," Pan reiterates. The Archmage blinks. "Anyway, as you can tell, I've spent the last several years making the Worldwalkers the basis of my research. They vanished from the face of the earth without explanation, and I want to learn what happened to them—and how to replicate their arts." <<include "chasewhistlei">>

"—before they seemingly vanished from the face of the earth. Wait, no, I'm getting ahead of myself. Let me start again." He takes another breath. "The Worldwalkers were Travelers, like me. Only instead of translocating across great distances, the Worldwalkers could translocate <i>between worlds</i>. What I've found indicates that they visited foreign worlds, slipping through the worldwalls in a process they called 'walking the dark paths'…" "Hold a moment," Ayla interrupts. "What d'you mean, <i>other worlds</i>?" "Hael?" Blade offers, completely deadpan. Red nods. "Yes, Hael is one of them, of course—but there are a vast multitude of them, at least according to the texts. More worlds than there are people in this one. Some could be versions of our own world, only with slight or very significant differences; a certain person dead there, a different decision made here. Others seemed to be entirely different, alien and foreign. Some didn't even have air to breathe, and the Worldwalkers who tried to go there perished instantly." He blinks at your expressions: Ayla looks brashly skeptical, at best, Chase politely intrigued, and Blade downright unimpressed. "I know it sounds fantastical…" "Why wouldn't we have ever heard of such a thing?" Chase asks, cocking his head. "I've never heard of another world besides this one and Hael." "I'm getting to that," Red says. "But there is proof of what I'm talking about. The Worldwalkers supposedly brought back things with them from these other worlds, things which have mutated and changed into their own versions here on Blest. Off-world imports. I'm pretty sure khav is one, coming originally from coffee, and potatoes, and even horses—those weren't around in all of our history, until someone suddenly claimed they'd brought them over from an unnamed land." He spreads his hands. "But which one?" "I thought those things came from the Sesz Isles," Ayla rebuts. "And other islands." Red shakes his head. "They're <i>grown</i> there now, but where they first originated from is a different matter entirely. Anyway, the Worldwalkers went to all of these different worlds and planes, and learned from them, and brought knowledge and specimens back, but it was all done in the utmost secrecy, of course…" "All right, Red, let's not bore them to tears," Pan prods, crossing his arms. "What happened to the Worldwalkers?" Red blinks and spreads his arms. "No one knows. I've only found a scattering of texts implying they even existed in the first place. They all vanished, at least eight hundred years before the Autarchy even began hunting Mages. I've spent the last handful of years trying to understand what happened to them… and how they were able to work their arts." <<include "chasewhistlei">>

He gestures to the enormous orb behind him. "That brings us to this. It's an artifact I discovered in a ruined tower on a lonely isle in the southern seas. I can't <i>prove</i> that it's a Worldwalker tool, but I'm pretty damn sure. I think it helps one enter other worlds, sort of like a focus. Or a magnifying glass. A tool to sort of help guide you into the process." Chase glances at you. "Did you follow all of that, <<c firstname>>?" <ul class="choices"> <<if $intelligence gte 15>><li><<link '"Yup, so far..."' 'chasewhistleii'>><<setred +1>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $specialization is "conjurer" or $arcane gte 35>><li><<link '"Yes... and in fact, Summoners and Conjurers have always claimed there\'s at least one other world besides this one and Hael..."' 'yesactuallysummonersconjurerssaid'>><<setred +3>><<setintelligence +1>><<setarcane +1>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link '"Not... really..."' 'notreallychaseredlog'>><<setintelligence -3>><</link>></li> </ul>

"When they conjure non-demonic spirits, like Vivek back at the Shepherds' compound, those spirits must come from somewhere," you say. "They definitely don't come from our world, and yet they don't come from Hael, either. They can't really communicate to us exactly where they come from—they seem to operate on an entirely different plane from our own—but it's something that specialists have always been somewhat aware of." Red nods, pleased by your expertise. "Exactly, <<c firstname>>. I'm only taking the theory further. What if the place they come from is a place we can go <i>to</i>, and visit ourselves?" <<include "chasewhistleii">>

Red sighs, looking very put-upon. He condenses it even further: "Worldwalkers were Mages who traveled to other worlds. I think this tool helped them do it. The mechanics of how or why aren't really that important: I just think it can help someone travel to another world." <<include "chasewhistleii">>

"But what does it have to do with the current situation and Quiial?" He looks… uneasy. The three of them—Panrachus, Saleneon, and Red—all exchange glances. "Well," Pan begins, "Red here had the vague notion that it might help us find this demon that's plaguing all of our minds and put a stop to it. If his theories are right, and the thing is the Faceless Lord he's talking about… and it really does exist in this Phantom Shore, this realm of dreams that's not exactly our world and not exactly Hael…" "Then that place must be some kind of other world," you finish then. "One that could possibly be reached, not just through sleep and being carried there by Quiial… but independently, through this tool." "Right," Red said. "But I quickly gave that idea up when I realized that hardly anybody here would be able to withstand the onslaught of one of the most powerful Endarkened ever, especially in its own territory. I thought it would be easier—and safer—just to pack everyone up and see if distance could solve the problem. But now…" He trails off and looks at you; his gaze is half-anxious, half full of awe. "There's you. With your claims that you've already rid the world of at least one Faceless Lord." "And the Shepherds, of course," Neon interjects quietly, glancing at your group with respect. "You all look powerful. Competent enough to handle a threat on this level." "Thanks for the ringing endorsement," Chase quips, just as Ayla butts in: "I'm no Shepherd, though. I'm just a drifter." "Didn't you say you owe the innkeeper, though?" you ask her. "What better way to pay that debt?" Ayla curls her lip. "He made me stick around and work off a few broken chairs," she says. "That really worth risking my life?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"No, but he didn\'t turn you in to the Inquisitors when he could have. He saved your life, and you\'re in his debt. <i>That\'s</i> worth risking your life."' 'shelooksawayandgrunts'>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setcunning +1>><<setloyal +1>><<setayla +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Think about his child. Do you really want to leave that girl fatherless when you could have done something?"' 'shelooksawayandgrunts'>><<setcompassionate +3>><<setcharisma +1>><<setayla +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I guess you\'re right..."' 'shelooksawayandgrunts'>><<setayla -3>><<setcourage -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Say nothing.' 'shelooksawayandgruntsunimpressed'>><<setcharisma -1>><<setayla -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

She looks away and grunts. <<include "chasewhistleiii">>

She looks away and grunts, unimpressed by your silence. <<include "chasewhistleiii">>

"How sure are you that this… thing can get us to Quiial?" Blade asks then, addressing Red. "And in one piece?" Red raises his eyebrows. "You mean you'll consider it?" "It's our duty as Shepherds," Blade replies seriously. "And if you're right, this is a problem that needs to be resolved immediately." "Well, great," Red says, looking up at the enormous orb. "In that case, I'm <i>fairly</i> sure this will get us to where we need to go. I tested it on some rocks and things, and I'm pretty sure it worked." "Wait, you haven't tested living creatures?" Chase interjects then. "Pigeons, or something?" Red coughs. "…No. They wouldn't have been able to come back, if I wasn't with them. Also… if I'm right, the World Ark takes ten years to charge enough power to send a living party to a different world and then back again in one piece." Blade raises his eyebrows. "And has it been charging?" Red smiles a little. "…Yes?" Chase looks at Blade. "You a gambling man, boss?" The dark-haired Ket sends him a cutting glare. "No." "Too bad, because if you were, you could make a pretty penny wagering on whether we make it with our guts intact or not." The thief grins. "'Course, it's not like I mind. This sounds fun." "I guess you have it, then," Panrachus says. "We're lucky that you Shepherds came into town when you did. Another day or two and we would have all been gone—and maybe hunted down like dogs by this demon. It's good to know we have people on our side." <<nobr>><<if $education is "Circle-trained">> He shoots your uniforms a skeptical look. "And you're lucky you have $firstname on yours. Else we never would have trusted you with this." <</if>><</nobr>> "So when do we go?" Chase asks, bouncing lightly on his heels and shadowboxing with the air. "I'm rearin' to kick this Dream-Eater in the teeth." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I trust Red. I think we should go as soon as we can."' 'itrustredithinkweshouldgo'>><<setcourage +1>><<setred +1>><<set $redromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'m a bit nervous about this contraption. I want some time to look over it myself."' 'imabitnervousaboutcontraptioniwantsometime'>><<setred -3>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Wait, Red, does that mean you\'ll have to come with us?"' 'waitreddoesthatmeanyoullcome'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Wait a minute, don\'t I get a say in this?"' 'waitaminutedontigetasayinthis'>><<setcunning +3>><<setloyal -1>><<setcourage -1>><<setblade -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

He smiles at your show in confidence in him, then says: "I'll have to come with you. If you want to come back afterwards, anyway. Only I know how to fine-tune the orb and give it the right coordinates. Dial it in to the right world, so to speak." "Can you fight?" Blade asks him. "Decently enough," Red says with a shrug, which you can tell does <i>not</i> impress your commander. "Enough to defend myself and others. I can pack a pretty powerful magical punch if I need to." "There's also a huge warhammer," Pan deadpans. "He found it in some ruins and now it flies to his hand whenever he needs it. It gets big and everything. All very phallic." Red makes a strangled sound while Chase says contentedly, "I can tell you and I are going to be friends." <<include "chasewhistleiv">>

"You're welcome to," Red says, without rancor, "but you might want to hurry. Like I said, the Dream-Eater comes at night. We don't want to be caught unawares and alert it to your presence—or give it any time to prepare." <<include "chasewhistleiv">>

"If you want to come back afterwards, yes," Red says, scratching the back of his head. "Only I know how to fine-tune the orb and give it the right coordinates. Dial it in to the right world, so to speak." "Can you fight?" Blade asks him. "Decently enough," Red says with a shrug, which you can tell does <i>not</i> impress your commander. "Enough to defend myself and others. I can pack a pretty powerful magical punch if I need to." "There's also a huge warhammer," Pan deadpans. "He found it in some ruins and now it flies to his hand whenever he needs it. It gets big and everything. All very phallic." Red makes a strangled sound while Chase says contentedly, "I can tell you and I are going to be friends." <<include "chasewhistleiv">>

The others turn to look at you. "What do you mean?" Blade asks, looking a trace disgruntled by the question. You fold your arms. "You're all counting on me being the one who can kill the Faceless Lord. But have you thought to ask if I want to rush headlong into some dream-world, using a device I don't know and which has never been tested?" "You don't have a choice," Blade tells you curtly. "You're a Shepherd." At the same time Chase adds: "It's part of the job, <<c firstname>>. If we don't help, these Mages are probably going to be dead as doorknobs by sunup. And eventually it'll be this whole town. Maybe even the whole Continent, one day." Red steps forward and lays a hand on your arm. "I'll go with you," he says in a determined voice. "I'll have to anyway, if you want to come back. I'm the only one who knows how to use the device. But you won't have to do this alone." You sigh in defeat. It seems like this is a mission you can't turn down. <<include "chasewhistleiv">>

<<set $redjoin to true>><<set $aylajoin to true>>"Let's not waste any more time, then," Blade says decisively, jerking his head at Pan and Saleneon, who straighten with haste. "The longer we wait, the more we give the demon time to strike—or gather intelligence on us from some unwitting dreamer. The two of you: prepare your Mages. If anything goes wrong on our end, you're going to have to get them away from here. We'll gather the necessary things and leave before nightfall." "And whatever you do, <i>don't</i> let anyone fall asleep!" Chase yells out the door as the two Mages quickly depart. Red smiles at you ruefully. "It's nice to have someone else in charge other than me, for once," he mutters. Then he glances up at the darkened orb and sighs. "I wish I could savor the feeling. Let's get to it, then." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Night falls...</span></div></div>' "nightfalls">><</link>></center>

<<notify_codex_culture "The Seven Trials">>By nightfall, your plans have been laid out and the preparations are complete. You watched Red do some very complicated magical things to the orb, which he calls the World Ark: <<nobr>><<if $arcane gte 30>> you managed to follow all of it, but doubt you'd be able to replicate it without him. Still, Red teaches you what to do in case anything should happen to him. <<else>> you weren't able to follow any of it, and your head spins with the esoteric arcana he's utilizing to work the ancient thing. <</if>><</nobr>> Now the World Ark crackles with green lightning, which sparks and surges around the gold rings that serve as the orb's conduit for its magical energies. "It's both our gate and our anchor," Red explains as he begins the final preparations. "When we're done in the Phantom Shore, I'll hone in on this thing again, and it will bring us back to our original positions." He holds his hand out to you. Another part of the process is that you all have to be touching Red, the 'conductor' of this disembodied experience. You take his hand, Chase his other; Ayla grabs a fistful of his collar, and Blade lays a reluctant hand on his shoulder. All of you are armed to the teeth and well-supplied; you're not sure how long this expedition will take. Ayla has decided to accompany you, after all, if only for the novelty of the experience. "How often can I say I got to go to another world?" she muttered when you looked at her. And because she seems like a ferocious veteran fighter, Blade saw no reason to turn her down. You're going to need all the help you can get. Despite yourself, your heart is jolting in electric spurts against your chest. This is insane, right? You're taking the plunge and doing something that no one has done in a thousand years—crossing the worldwalls—all in pursuit of this Faceless Lord and a dream realm that may or may not exist? Pan and Saleneon, watching from the doorway, look as anxious as you feel. "Good luck," Neon says, barely audible over the crackling of the World Ark. Pan makes the sign of the gods. "Say your prayers," he tells you. "Hope your atoms don't end up scattered across the cosmos." Red throws him a look of annoyance. "Please shut up," he says—and then he activates the device. You feel the pull the way a bird must feel the shift in gravity when it takes a dive; it starts low in your gut, a kind of lurching, swooping feeling, as if your inner cells are straining in the direction of the World Ark. Then you look around, and you feel as if your vision is smearing; the world's colors are running together like paint down a canvas, flowing towards the orb, and the faces of your companions are mere blank spaces, their fingers and limbs already tapering away into the sudden cyclone of energy that is the device. "Hold on!" you hear Red exclaim, casting out his magic, which tangles with yours— "<i>Don't let go!</i>" <center> And then suddenly you are </center> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>gone...</span></div></div>' "nightfallsi">><</link>></center>

<center><div class="dot"> <<timed 1s t8n>> ... <<next>>... <<next>>... <</timed>><span class="next">[[Next|nightfallsii]]</span></div></center> <<timed 5s>><<goto "nightfallsii">><</timed>>

"…<<c firstname>>?" When you wake up again, it's to the warm, crackling glow of a hearth fire against your face. Someone is bending over you, and beneath your head is a light, downy pillow that somehow feels or smells familiar. Your head spins. <<nobr>><<if $education is "Circle-trained">> <br><br> Is this your old dorm room at Solhadur? You try to sit up. <</if>><</nobr>> "Did it not work?" you mumble. It is, in a way, to be expected; magical experiments rarely succeed on the first try, and especially not when millennia-old mysterious artifacts are involved. "Is everyone alright?" The person sitting above you recoils hastily as you look around. "It is you," the high voice says, first anxiously, then excitedly. "It's really you! <<c firstname>>! It's me!" What you see standing before you in the firelight hits you like a punch to the gut. Your breath leaves your body all at once, and you feel paralyzed, stricken. Your blood goes hot and then cold at the same time, as if you'd been plunged into an acid bath. When the word finally leaves your mouth, it dies half on your lips, just a ghost of a name: "<i>Zori?</i>" <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "nightfallsiii">><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<if $zorifemale is true>><<set $zorishe to "she">><<set $zoriher to "her">><<set $zorithem to "her">><<set $zorihers to "hers">><<elseif $zorimale is true>><<set $zorishe to "he">><<set $zoriher to "his">><<set $zorithem to "him">><<set $zorihers to "his">><<elseif $zorixix is true>><<set $zorishe to "xe">><<set $zoriher to "xer">><<set $zorithem to "xer">><<set $zorihers to "xis">><</if>><</nobr>>You can scarcely believe your eyes, and suddenly your throat feels very full, almost too much for you to breathe. There, standing before you in the flesh, is your childhood friend Zori. The one you thought long-dead, but it is unmistakably, undeniably $zoriher. There's the same dark hair, the same delicate, pointed features… the same little scar on $zoriher chin where $zorishe was once cut during a rock fight… Zori beams, though $zoriher eyes sparkle with sudden tears. "It's you," $zorishe chokes out again, wiping a sleeve across $zoriher nose. "It's—it's really you! You've changed so much—you're <i>old</i>—I mean, I knew it was you, but I couldn't be sure…" You don't know what to say. "You… you haven't changed at all," you manage to croak. In fact, $zorishe hasn't aged a day, not since the night of your thirteenth birthday. <<c zorishe>>'s even still wearing the same clothes $zorishe always wore as a child, right down to the reed bracelet you'd given $zorithem not two weeks before your <<c nameday>> Day… <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"How... how are you here?"' 'howhowareweherezori'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You\'re... you\'re not real. This can\'t be real."' 'youreyourenotrealzori'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Am I... dead?"' 'amideadzori'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'You break down into tears. "Oh, $god, Zori, I\'m so sorry..."' 'ohgodzoriimsosorry'>><</link>></li> </ul>

"It's more like, how are <i>you</i> here?" Zori asks. <<c zorishe>> tries to smile, but now the tears are coming thick and fast, flowing down $zoriher cheeks like twin rivers. "I… I thought I'd never see you again… thought we'd be stuck here forever… but now you're here…" Suddenly $zorishe throws <<print $zoriher>>self into your arms and begins to wail. "I missed you s-so much!" <<c zoriher>> bird-thin body feels light and warm and very real as <<c zorishe>> wails in your ear. "You came back to us! You came back!" <<include "nightfallsiv">>

Zori holds out $zoriher hand for you to grasp; $zoriher pulse flutters in $zoriher wrist, warm and real as you've ever felt. "I'm real," $zorishe says earnestly, looking into your eyes. "Honest, I am. Ask me anything, and I'll know it. I know you used to be afraid of worms when they came up out of the ground after the rain. I remember once we hid under Tekrom Galen's bed to scare him, only he—" "Stop," you choke out, feeling as if your ribcage is being crushed. "How can it be you?" Zori's tears fall on the back of your hand, glittering in the firelight. "It's me," is all $zorishe can say. "I can't believe it's <i>you</i>." <<include "nightfallsiv">>

Has Red's experiment gone wrong, killing you and sending your soul to the afterlife? Zori shakes $zoriher head. "No, not unless I am, too. But I know I'm not. You're just—in the place we all got sent to. No, I'm not explaining it right." Suddenly $zoriher voice cracks, and $zorishe launches <<print $zoriher>>self into your arms. <<c zoriher>> bird-thin body feels light, arm, and very real as $zorishe begins wailing into your ear. "I missed you, <<c firstname>>," Zori sobs. "I missed you so, so much…" <<include "nightfallsiv">>

Zori launches into your arms at that; $zoriher bird-thin body feels light, warm, and very real as $zorishe wails in your ear. "I missed you," $zorishe sobs. "I missed you so, so much…" <<include "nightfallsiv">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "nightfallsv">><</link>></center>

When the both of you have managed to calm down a bit, you sit back to take each other in with fresh eyes. You realize now with acute, painful suddenness that the bed you've woken up in is your old one: this is, in fact, your childhood room. There is your mother's bone-handled horsehair brush on the dresser; there's the old prized bat you used to play with leaning against the wall. Outside, night obscures the rest of the village, but you can see pinpricks of lit windows in the distance. There are no moons or stars. Strangest of all, of course, is Zori, sitting on a stool and watching you with rapt attention. It is bizarre, to see your old friend at the same age as Caine; how has $zorishe not aged a day since that terrible night? <<c zorishe>> smiles brightly when $zorishe notices your confusion. "I know, it's strange," $zorishe remarks. "I always used to wonder what you'd look like when you grew up. You look… <<nobr>><<if $strength gt $magic>> strong, sort of. Like you could beat up anybody, or beat ol' Gargua in an arm-wrestling match." <<elseif $magic gt $strength>> powerful, like. Thrumming with it, like you could kill anybody with just a look, if you meant to." <<else>> fierce, sort of. Like no one in the world would mess with you." <</if>><</nobr>> <<c zorishe>> falls silent for another moment. "And you look… kind of sad, too. Like you've been through a lot." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Why don\'t you look any different?"' 'whydontyoulookanydifferentzori'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Where are we, Zori?"' 'wherearewezorithen'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I thought you died."' 'ithoughtyoudiedzori'>><</link>></li> </ul>

<<c zorishe>> looks down and bites $zoriher lip. "Well," $zorishe begins. "After—after what happened on your <<c nameday>> Day, I guess you… well, you did that thing, remember? Shouted that word?" You nod slowly. That was the first time you ever used a Word of Power. Zori spreads $zoriher arms to indicate everything, including your home. "Well, when you did that," $zorishe says, "I guess you… teleported us all here. To this other world. We've been here ever since." <<include "nightfallsvi">>

<<c zorishe>> looks down and bites $zoriher lip. "We're in the village," $zorishe tells you. "After—after what happened on your <<c nameday>> Day, I guess you… well, you did that thing, remember? Shouted that word?" You nod slowly. That was the first time you ever used a Word of Power. Zori spreads $zoriher arms to indicate everything, including your home. "Well, when you did that," $zorishe says, "I guess you… teleported us all here. To this other world. We've been here ever since." <<include "nightfallsvi">>

Zori looks down and bites $zoriher lip. "Nearly did," $zorishe tells you. "That… that Endarkened near crushed me. But… but after you did that thing… you remember? Shouting that word?" You nod slowly. That was the first time you ever used a Word of Power. Zori spreads $zoriher arms to indicate everything, including your home. "Well, when you did that," $zorishe says, "I guess you… teleported us all here. To this other world. We've been here ever since." <<include "nightfallsvi">>

<<page_break "Next" "nightfallsvii">>

You feel as if you're falling, very slowly, and from a great distance. Can this be true? All this time, you've been laboring under the terrible knowledge that you wiped out your entire village, every man, woman, and child within it… but in fact… you actually transported it harmlessly to another plane? There's relief splashing through you, but also mingled guilt: does that mean you could have brought them back, all these years, but simply left them here to rot? <<include "zoriask">>

Zori looks uneasy. "Don't know that it has a name," $zorishe begins. "Don't know all that much about it, in fact. Just know that it's never day here—there's no sun or moon—it's always just… dark. And when you try to go beyond the village, there's just leagues and leagues of darkness ahead of you. Pitch-black, like. No one makes it very far before they turn tail and come running home." You turn to look out the window, but again, you see nothing but darkness and gloom. "We were trying to get to a place called the Phantom Shore," you tell Zori. "A place of dreams and nightmares, ruled by a creature called Quiial. Do you think we could be there?" Zori nods. "Maybe. There is something—" <<c zorishe>> stops. "Maybe I shouldn't tell you now. I don't want to frighten you." You want to laugh, or cry. How like brave little Zori to still want to protect you, even when you're the one who's grown up. <<include "zoriask">>

Zori shrugs. "No day or night here," $zorishe says. "No way of tracking the time. We measure things by events now. Feelings. Little Laila started talking, recently, and walking a bit, so at least a few months, we think." Little Laila, you think, dredging up long-forgotten memories. A neighbor of yours—one of the babies who'd cried at your celebration. When you were thirteen, Laila had just turned ten months old. Standing would put her at, what, fifteen months? Less? "Sun above," you whisper, unconsciously defaulting to your old childhood epithet. <<include "zoriask">>

Zori looks at you with sad, sad eyes. "Oh, <<c firstname>>," $zorishe whispers. <<c zoriher>> little hand comes up to take yours. "Don't—don't you remember? He… when the Revenant came…" You remember. The arc of blood, the sight of your father's dead body lying crumpled on the ground. So your Word of Power had been too late to save even him. "He's still dead?" Zori blinks, and big, fat tears simmer in $zoriher eyes. For $zorithem, the whole ordeal must be so much fresher. <<nobr>><<if $heritage is "Elf">> "We buried him, the way he would have wanted us to," $zorishe whispers. "And put a sapling on his burial mound, the way that's good and proper. I can… I can take you to him later, if you'd like." <<include "zoriparents">> <<elseif $heritage is "Hunter">> "We burned him, the way he would have wanted," $zorishe whispers. "Released his soul back to Narthax, the way that's good and proper. I can… I can take you to where we spread the ashes later, if you'd like." <<include "zoriparents">> <<elseif $heritage is "Norm">> "We buried him, the way he would have wanted us to," $zorishe whispers. "And put him in the cemetery, next to your ma. I can… I can take you to them later, if you'd like." <<include "zoriparents">> <<elseif $heritage is "Ket">> "We made him a funeral pyre, the way he would have wanted," $zorishe whispers. "Gave him a proper warrior's rites. I can… I can take you to where we spread the ashes later, if you'd like." <<include "zoriparents">> <</if>><</nobr>>

"Did I teleport it, too?" you ask, the implications of what you're saying slowly starting to sink in. Zori shakes $zoriher head quickly. "If you did, it isn't here," $zorishe says. "I think you destroyed it—maybe whatever you did, whatever word you used, it might be bad for demons and not as bad for everyone else? As in, it got killed, but we only got transported as a side effect." Then $zorishe bites $zoriher lip. "Though I guess I have to tell you… there <i>is</i> a demon in this world." That makes you sit up. "What do you mean?" Zori looks nervous. "It's this—this thing," $zorishe says in a hushed voice, as if it could hear $zoriher from the next room over. "It used to come—I don't know, pretty often. And every time it did, it'd… take one of us away, usually when we were all sleeping. The person it took never came back. It… <i>feeds</i> on us. It's evil. I heard someone say we weren't good enough for it, though, 'cause we weren't asleep proper. Something like that." "Could it be Quiial? The Dream-Eater?" It certainly sounds like it; and if all of this is true, then the villagers who have been trapped in the Phantom Shore—if that is what this is—might not be suitable fare for the Faceless Lord; it probably prefers dreamers in Blest, whose energies it can sap and (in so doing) use to manifest in that realm. Residents of this realm would probably be less satisfying... Like a thief coveting the exotic feasts of kings rather than the meals he can cook on his own. Zori shakes $zoriher head. "Dunno if it's called that. I never heard a name for it. Just know that everyone's scared as Hael of it. Lately it's been leaving us alone…" This must be because it found victims in Capra and the Mage's Circle, you think. "…but we've gotten a pretty good sense of when it'll come back. The area around here changes, like; the shadows grow darker, more dense. Triba thinks it'll be here really soon." <<include "zoriask">>

It's almost hard to recall how you got here, or that you were clinging to everyone else when you were sucked through the World Ark: now that memory seems ethereal, somehow faraway. Zori cocks $zoriher head. "Shepherds?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"People I work with. Colleagues."' 'whereareshepherdsotherzori'>><<setloyal +1>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"My friends. Companions."' 'whereareshepherdsotherzori'>><<setloyal +2>><<setcompassionate +2>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Some people I happen to know."' 'whereareshepherdsotherzori'>><<setloyal -5>><<setcompassionate -5>><</link>></li> </ul>

"We came here together," you recall. "You wouldn't have been able to miss them: there's Blade, a dark-haired Ket with…" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"...a sour expression..."' 'whereareshepherdsotherzorii'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"...a unique sword..."' 'whereareshepherdsotherzorii'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"...a strong build..."' 'whereareshepherdsotherzorii'>><</link>></li> </ul>

"…and Chase, who has brown hair and…" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"...green eyes..."' 'aylaandred'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"...stylish clothes..."' 'aylaandred'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"...a look like he\'s going to cause mischief..."' 'aylaandred'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Zori nods and hops to $zoriher feet to help you shift from your old childhood bed, a cot so short and narrow you wonder how you ever fit in it. Your head swims when you get to your feet, and the room seems to sway a bit, but other than that you feel no worse for the wear after your journey into this strange realm, which you're becoming more and more certain is the Phantom Shore. You allow Zori to help you down the stairs, taking in the darkened living room, the empty kitchen. It still smells a bit like wood and flour here. A thin layer of dust, seemingly a few months old, coats the surfaces, but not by much. <<include "outside">>

"She's a Wind-Mage with amber eyes and…" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"...foreign-looking clothes..."' 'aylaandred'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"...a fierce expression..."' 'aylaandred'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"…a heavy braid of hair with a jade stone on the end of it…"' 'aylaandred'>><</link>></li> </ul>

"A Mage with fiery red hair and…" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '...a friendly demeanor..."' 'aylaandred'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '...a tall gait..."' 'aylaandred'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '...a giant war hammer on his back..."' 'aylaandred'>><</link>></li> </ul>

"And what about your parents?" you ask $zorithem. Zori looks away. "My Da died, too," $zorishe mutters after a moment. "Ma's busy looking after the young ones, so I'm left to do whatever I want." It's said with an air of carelessness, but Zori has never been good at hiding $zoriher emotions; $zoriher voice and hands tremble a little. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Reach out and comfort $zorithem. "I\'m so sorry."' 'zoriparentsii'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Keep a respectful distance. You are not, after all, the same children that you once were.' 'zoriparentsii'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Pretend not to notice. You know Zori wouldn\'t like you to see $zorithem weak.' 'zoriparentsii'>><</link>></li> </ul>

After a moment of brief sniffling, Zori clears $zoriher throat and looks ready to talk again. <<include "zoriask">>

Zori cocks $zoriher head. "Haven't seen anyone of that sort," $zorishe admits. "We found you right smack-dab in the center of the village and carried you here when you were passed out, but no one else has shown up since. Maybe they got teleported somewhere else?" <<c zorishe>> hastily amends her statement as you look out the window at the oppressive darkness outside. "Don't worry—I'm sure they're okay. If they're out there in the Dark Plains, they'll be making their way here now. This place is the only source of light around for—well, forever. You can't miss it. They'd have to be heading here." <<nobr>><<if $aro is false and $aroace is false>> <br><br> <<c zorishe>> pauses for a moment, watching your face, before $zorishe says a bit hesitantly: "Is… is one of them your <<if $attractedto is "men">> swain?" <<elseif $attractedto is "women">> leman?" <<elseif $attractedto is "both" or $attractedto is "all">> swain or leman?" <</if>> <br><br> You almost snort. <i>Swain</i> and <i>leman</i> are old-fashioned words your village used—uses—to mean <i>sweetheart</i>. Leave it to Zori to still be as nosy as ever. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Change the subject.' 'zoriask'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Yes, something like that..."' 'yessomethinglikethatzori'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"My interest lies back at home, in Haven."' 'myinterestliesbackathomeinhaven'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I think I\'m holding out for someone in my future."' 'imholdingoutforsomeoneinmyfuturezori'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"No, definitely not."' 'nodefinitelynotzori'>><</link>></li> </ul> <<else>> <<include "zoriask">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Zori cocks $zoriher head, eyes curious. "Who?" <ul class="choices"> <<if ($bladeromanceflag gte 7 and $attractedto is not "women") and $gender is "female">><li><<link '"The dark-haired Ket... maybe. He\'s hard to read."' 'yessomethinglikethatzorii'>><<set $bladeromanceflag += 3>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $chaseromanceflag gte 4 and $attractedto is not "women">><li><<link '"My interest might lie with the brown-haired thief."' 'yessomethinglikethatzorii'>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 3>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $aylaromanceflag gte 1 and $attractedto is not "men">><li><<link '"We only just met, but that fierce Wind-Mage is... something else."' 'yessomethinglikethatzorii'>><<set $aylaromanceflag += 3>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if ($redromanceflag gte 2 or $redrelationship is "ex") and $attractedto is not "women">><li><<link '"There might be the spark of something with the red-haired Mage..."' 'yessomethinglikethatzorii'>><<set $redromanceflag += 3>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link '"On second thought... never mind."' 'yessomethinglikethatzorii'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Zori nods slowly. "I see," is all $zorishe says. <<include "zoriask">>

Zori tilts $zoriher head. "Oh?" <ul class="choices"> <<if ($troubleromanceflag gte 6 and $attractedto is not "women")>><li><<link '"Yes, with this Norm sniper I know... Trouble."' 'myinterestzorirom'>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 3>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if ($tallysromanceflag gte 5 and $attractedto is not "men") or $tallyssex is true>><li><<link '"Yes, with this Elven archer I know... Tallys."' 'myinterestzorirom'>><<set $tallysromanceflag += 3>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if ($sheryromanceflag gte 3 and $attractedto is not "men") and $gender is "female">><li><<link '"Yes, with this Norm quartermaster I know... Shery."' 'myinterestzorirom'>><<set $sheryromanceflag += 3>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if ($rielromanceflag gte 4 and $attractedto is not "women") and $gender is "male">><li><<link '"Yes, with this merchant genius I know... Riel."' 'myinterestzorirom'>><<set $rielromanceflag += 3>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $prihineromance is true>><li><<link '"Yes, with this aristocratic lady I know... Prihine."' 'myinterestzorirom'>><<set $prihineromanceflag += 3>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link '"On second thought... never mind."' 'yessomethinglikethatzorii'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Zori nods slowly. "I see," is all $zorishe says. <<include "zoriask">>

Zori's eyes widen. "How do you know you'll meet them?" You shrug. You just know. <<include "zoriask">>

"Oh," is all Zori says—but you're not sure $zorishe totally believes you. <<include "zoriask">>

Outside, you are greeted by a small group of people, who stare at you, white-faced, as if you were a ghost. Which, you suppose, you might as well be. For a moment they only stare at you, and you stare at them, and you suddenly remember that they have been trapped here for years—or months—because of you. Because of the thing you did to them. They must think you're a monster. Then, to your surprise, an older woman reaches out to embrace you. This is Triba Lari, your adopted aunt on your mother's side: she was once married to your mother's brother, who passed away during a bandit raid when you were still in diapers. She is just as strong and stocky as you remember her, with powerful arms and a bun of brown hair dusted through with gray. You feel her hug you tightly enough to crack your shoulders; the warm press of her tears against your collar. "Oh, child," she whispers. "You've grown up. It's so good to see you alive." After that, it's a flurry of greetings from people you thought were long-dead. Some seem more reserved, cautious of you; but many are overjoyed, reaching out hands to touch your clothes, your hair, as if to reassure themselves that you're really here. There are no torches and pitchforks; no angry mob waiting to make you pay for what you've done. Seeing your look of wonder—or maybe confusion—Aunt Lari says, "It's thanks to you that we're all alive, of course. You saved us from that monster on your…" Her voice breaks. "…On your thirteenth birthday." The little group of people—mostly relatives of Zori's, old neighbors, or friends of your aunt, who seems to have taken over as leader of your community—eventually usher you through the village. You're startled by how much everything has stayed the same: the little roadways, the old well, the thatching in the roofs. Carefully, no one lets you look at the village square: the site of the massacre that took place so many years ago. The only things that seem different are the lack of light and wind—it seems like perpetual night here, even with all of the braziers and extra torches burning—and sound seems oddly quiet. Muffled. When you look beyond the village gates, all you can make out is unending darkness beyond, so thick it seems almost viscous. And all of the trees and flowers have died. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "outsidei">><</link>></center>

Unnerved, you allow the group to guide you to Aunt Lari's yard, where a long table has been set up for you to sit and confer at. Zori sits with you proudly at your right hand, like a personal attendant, and drinks are served, though their flavors seem muted or diluted somehow. Slowly, haltingly, you begin to talk… about all that's happened, about the world back home… and they talk… and at some point you lose the thread of the conversation. It all seems like so much. You want to put your head in your hands. No, it's life-changing. All this time, you thought… you thought they were all gone. But here they are, warm and alive, eager to hear news, buzzing with suppressed excitement and joy and hope in seeing you. Your heart beats fast with the knowledge, so fast you can barely feel it. They're alive… most of them. And they don't hate you. And you can bring them home. The realization hits you, sudden and momentous. You tune back into the conversation as Aunt Lari says, "We'll send out a search party for your friends. Put out lights to guide them here. But in the meantime… I think it's best if we all get away from here. That demon you speak of, Quiiial: it's on its way here, now. Maybe attracted by your presence, maybe not. But we can all feel it coming. And if it gets here, it's going to—I don't know. Eat another one of us. Hold us hostage against you. There are too many of us here for you to protect." You look around and realize that it's true: the faces around the table do indeed look nervous, and there are too many for you to watch over. If Quiial did come now, it could snatch away someone like Zori in a heartbeat. Even if you gathered everybody in one place. The last fight you had with a Faceless Lord took all of your strength, all of your concentration. "What do you mean, get away from here?" "Go back to Blest, of course," Aunt Lari says. She lays a calloused hand on your arm. "Reverse what you did to bring us here. We're grateful, of course, because it saved us from certain destruction… but we can't stay here, not for another hour. Not with that thing on its way back. I can read the shadows, feel their frenzy in the Dark Plains. The Dream-Eater is angry, and it is out for blood." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I don\'t know how to send the entire village back."' 'idontknowhowtosendauntlauri'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I can fight it. I\'m not frightened of it."' 'icanfightitauntlauri'>><<setcourage +2>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"But what about my friends?"' 'butwhataboutmyfriendsauntlauri'>><<setloyal +1>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

"Yes, you do," Aunt Lari says gently. "If you brought us here, you can bring us home." <<include "outsideii">>

"But we are," another man—one of your father's oldest friends, Timur—breaks in now. "We're all at risk, child. If you plan on battling the thing, at least take us back home, beyond where it can retaliate against us." <<include "outsideii">>

"You can stay here to help them, if you wish," Aunt Lari says. "Sun willing, we can even leave any wanting fighters here with you to help. But we must get the children away, at least. We've spent so long fighting this creature—lost so many to its clutches already. Please, <<c firstname>>. At least send the little ones home." "I'm staying with <<c firstname>>," Zori butts in then, but $zorishe is immediately hushed by the adults at the table. <<include "outsideii">>

<<set $sus to 0>>You look down at the warped, scarred garden table beneath your hands. It is eerie, how well you remember this thing: there's the knot where Aunt Lari's companion, Felix, once dropped a hot coal, and here's where her oldest son scratched the table with a muddy arrowhead he found in the woods. Though were these scratched words always there? You can't quite make them out… "<<c firstname>>?" Zori says, snapping your attention back to the conversation. You hesitate. Teleporting the village back to Blest would use up one of your Words of Power: a very precious resource, if your recent dreams and visions are anything to go by. And yet, given the nature of this Endarkened, Quiial... can you even trust your own dreams? What if the nightmares that have been plaguing you are the Faceless Lord's own doing, and hoarding the Words is exactly what it <i>wants</i> you to do? This is a difficult choice, perhaps the most difficult you've ever had to make. It is atonement; it is risk. You're sure that you know enough about the Words now to alter reality and send your kinsmen safely home… but will your choices have further consequences down the line? <<include "waffle">>

<<set $sus += 1>>"I'd like to talk things over with them," you say. "And it would make me feel better to have them here before I empty this place out." Aunt Lari shakes her head. "There's no time," she says. "We don't know how long they'll be delayed, if they're even out there. Do you really want to risk everyone's safety on that chance?" <<include "waffle">>

<<set $sus += 1>>"Either way, you'll have to use two Words of Power," Aunt Lari points out. "One to destroy it, and one to send us back. Why wait to send us back when you can do it ahead of time, before you confront it, and spare us all the risk? You simply can't know what will happen when it shows up." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"But I can use other things to fight it... Not just the Words..."' 'buticanuseotherthingstofightitnotjustwords'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"That\'s not true. Red has a way to get us home that doesn\'t use the Words."' 'thatsnottrueredhasawaytogetushome'>><</link>></li> </ul>

You're growing a bit confused: you think you've been inundated with too much information for one night. Aunt Lari stares at you as if you're babbling. "What does that have to do with sending us home?" <<include "waffle">>

Aunt Lari stares at you. "What you described doesn't seem possible for a village," she points out. "Everyone must be touching him? And how will we know it will work? And what if he doesn't come here until after the demon has arrived? Or worse, is killed? What will we do then?" <<include "waffle">>

<<set $sus += 1>>"What's not to know?" Aunt Lari asks softly. Despite her general calm, you sense that she's growing a bit frustrated—or desperate. "Is it really so hard to imagine taking us back to the place we belong? To showing us the sunlight, and fresh air, and green grass again?" She looks around bleakly at the gathering darkness around you. "This place is Hael. Please… we can't stay here any longer. To make us do so would be cruel." <<include "waffle">>

You know the Words have a purpose, though you can never divine ahead of time what that purpose might be; you only know that, in the past, the instinct to use them was suddenly sprung upon you in the heat of the moment, and you either chose to heed that instinct or not. This feels different, but perhaps that's the point… perhaps this could be a way of reclaiming your own agency, of deciding for yourself what the Words are used for. Or maybe this is simply your gut telling you that this is not what you should do? Your head is spinning. It's hard to think, especially with Zori watching you so closely. <i>Something's wrong,</i> something deep within you whispers. But you're afraid you can no longer trust the voice inside your head… or can you? "Are you all right, <<c firstname>>?" Zori asks. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I\'m sorry. I can\'t do it."' 'waffle2'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Yes. I\'ll do it."' 'possession'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Aunt Lari's eyes widen in shock, and she sits back sharply. "You… what?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I can\'t do it. We\'ll find another way."' 'icantdoitwellfindanotherway'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"No, never mind. I can do it."' 'possession'>><</link>></li> </ul>

"You don't mean that," Zori says, turning to you with equally-wide eyes. <<c zorishe>> looks hurt, betrayed even. "Do you, <<c firstname>>? What about my little brother? My sister?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I promise, Zori. I\'ll protect you all."' 'ipromisezoriillprotectyouall'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You\'re right. I have to think of them... I suppose I\'ll do it."' 'possession'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Quite suddenly, Aunt Lari leans forward and seizes your wrist. Her grip is surprisingly strong for an older woman; it almost hurts. "You can't be serious," she says, her eyes suddenly fierce. "You can't be endangering us all for your selfish whims! You have the power to help us, and you turn away?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Recoil. "Let go. You\'re hurting me!"' 'promiseprotectzorii'>><<setcourage -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Shove her off. "What do you think you\'re doing?"' 'promiseprotectzorii'>><<setstrength +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Look her in the eyes and hold firm. "My decision is made."' 'promiseprotectzorii'>><<setcourage +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Aunt Lari holds fast; the pain in your wrist grows and grows. "Reconsider, <<c firstname>>," she pleads with you. "Please; my children!…" "Let $them go, Miss Lari!" Zori blurts from beside you. When you look at $zorithem, $zoriher eyes are sad… but accepting. "I trust you, <<c firstname>>," $zorishe says. "If that's what you want, it must be for the best." This is all starting to feel very strange to you. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Maybe... maybe I should do it after all."' 'maybemaybeishouldauntlauri'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Something\'s wrong... this isn\'t right. None of this is right."' 'somethingswrongthisisntrightauntlauri'>><</link>></li> </ul>

All at once the pressure on your wrist eases. Aunt Lari looks at you, a relieved smile beginning to touch her lips. "Do you mean it?" Your head is spinning again. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Yes... yes, I\'ll use the Word to send you home."' 'possession'>><</link>></li> </ul>

"You're right," Aunt Lari snaps. The darkness above her head seems to be drawing nearer and nearer, so that the nearby torch flames sputter and dwindle. The pressure on your wrist feels disconnected somehow, remote, a signal sending feverish waves of pain up your arm and into your chest from a place that seems far away. "It's not right to leave us here in the dark. It's not right, not after what you've done." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Look at the words written on the table.' 'lookatwordswrittenonthetable'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Acquiesce. She\'s right... you need to pay the penance for your terrible crimes...' 'acquiesceshesrightpaypenance'>><</link>></li> </ul>

It is monumentally hard to drag your eyes downward, to force them to focus on the blurry, indistinct words carved into the bench beneath your hand. It is such a labor that a cold sweat erupts on the back of your neck, and you strain as if you're lifting a mountain. Slowly, the words swim into view, one-by-one… <b>THIS IS A DREAM. THEY ARE QUIIAL. THEY WANT TO TAKE THE WORD AND RIP OUT YOUR SOUL.</b> The words give you a burst of clarity and strength, and all at once you rip your hand out of Aunt Lari's grasp. The demon senses your realization in the same moment that you make it and lets loose a terrible scream. Everyone in the village begins to scream, and the sound is so unearthly, so terrible, that you feel as if you might black out just from having it pierce your brain in such a way. The world shakes with the force of that scream, and when you summon the strength to look, you find that Aunt Lari and Zori's eyes are black holes dripping with gore, and maggots are erupting from their throats… <ul class="choices"> <<if $courage gte 35>><li><<link '"DEMON! I\'M NOT AFRAID OF YOU!"' 'demonfight'>><<setcourage +1>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $faith gte 60>><li><<link 'Close your eyes and pray.' 'demonfight'>><<setfaith +1>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $magic gte 30 or $astral gte 30>><li><<link 'Impose a bubble of silence around you through sheer force of will.' 'demonfight'>><<setmagic +1>><<setastral +1>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $magic gte 30 or $psionic gte 30>><li><<link 'Break the demon\'s illusion with your own mind.' 'demonfight'>><<setmagic +1>><<setpsionic +1>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link 'Clap your hands over your ears and whisper to yourself: "It\'s not real. It\'s not real."' 'clapyourhandsoverearswhispertoyourself'>><</link>></li> </ul>

"You're not real," you chant, your voice growing stronger. "None of this is real, <i>you're not real</i>!" <<page_break "Next" "demonfight">>

"Fine," you gasp out. "I'll do it. I'll send you back." All at once the pressure and the darkness ease, leaving you feel as if an enormous weight has been lifted from you. <<include "possession">>

Aunt Lari leans forward to press your hands, then kisses them, as if you were a hero out of the legends. "Thank you, <<c firstname>>," she says as everyone seems to breathe a sigh of relief. "Truly. Thank you." It seems to take very little time at all to gather the entire village near the gates, where the torches are still vainly struggling to fight back the darkness outside. The sky seems to grow closer, heavier, even as you look at it; Quiial must be approaching now. The air seems to press down against your lungs, as thick as carpet. A kind of expectant hush falls over everyone as they watch you prepare yourself. You suck in a breath, but the air is so muggy and dense, it's almost like breathing in water. A kind of cold, stinging sweat breaks out against your forehead. "Quickly now," you hear Aunt Lari urging to her little ones as she herds them close to her. "The demon approaches. We must away." You close your eyes and call up that coil of power inside you, the shining <i>something</i> that always slumbers in you, inert. When you concentrate, you can just feel that elusive Word lurking somewhere below the surface, waiting to be called up; you can almost feel it pressing against your tongue, like you're holding honey in your mouth and you feel the urge to both spit it out and swallow. Zori reaches out and touches your wrist, almost shyly. "See you on the other side," $zorishe whispers. You hold the image of sending everyone back to Solhadur in your mind. The buildings don't matter, only the people, every single one of them. You can do it if you want to. You know you can. Do you speak the Word of Power? <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Yes.' 'yeswordpowerchptiii'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'No.' 'demoend3'>><</link>></li> </ul>

You open your mouth and finally let the Word of Power unfurl on your tongue, imagining that coil of power within you shining up through your chest and out into the air… And that's when things go terribly wrong. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "yeswordpowerchptiiia">><<set $godspeaker -= 1>><</link>></center>

A voice beside you, no, around you—no, <i>inside of you</i>—lets loose a triumphant cackle. It is dark and rich, as smooth as chocolate, but there is a bitterness to it that terrifies you. <b><i>At last</i></b>, the voice says. <b><i>Thank you, Brightburner. The Words are a direct conduit into the most secret part of your soul… and you have just opened the door for me to come in and make myself at home.</i></b> Then you feel it. A darkness infecting that shining rope, like a sickness, a disease corroding and rotting the limb of a once-flowering tree. You feel something <i>alien</i> crawling inside you, through your nose and throat, choking you, a maggot burrowing into the soft meat of your heart, a hot-clawed rat scrabbling around your innards. Something evil makes its way into the deepest corner of your mind, a worm squirming through the wrinkles of your brain, attaching itself to the backs of your eyes, a leech of all things good, a parasite— You open your mouth to scream. And scream, and scream, but no sound comes out because your throat is full of <i>demon</i>— And then you wake up. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "possessedending">><</link>></center>

<span class="next">[[Next|demonfighti]]</span></div></center> <<timed 3s>><<goto "demonfighti">><</timed>>

<<nobr>><<achieve "achieve_sleep">><<notify_achievement "To Sleep, Perchance to Dream" "Successfully broke out of Quiial's nightmarish illusion.">><</nobr>>The sudden silence is deafening, like the roar of an ocean too vast to perceive. When you open your eyes again, you find yourself standing in the "Dark Plains," a vast and empty place of… nothingness. Looking around, you find that not a soul is anywhere near you, and the air is dead and silent. It seems, for the moment, that you have driven the Faceless Lord off. That you have foiled its attempts to fool you, to steal a Word of Power from you… or worse. Unless this is just another one of its tricks. You look around carefully, one hand on your $mainweapon. You understand now why Red called this place the Phantom Shore: consciousness and sleep seem to ebb in waves here, dreams and truth washing over you in an unceasing tide. If you concentrate hard enough, you think you can pick out images wavering and flickering in the darkness ahead of you, glimpses of visions flashing like waves in the sun. It's quite nauseating, but you can find the rhythm and beat of it if you try hard enough—now that you're aware of it. You're suddenly achingly aware that you don't know where your companions are. That blasted demon could be keeping them anywhere, likely paralyzed in their own versions of what you just experienced… but you have to find them. You have to band together and kill this thing once and for all. Even as you think it, the force of your will gives shape to the darkness in front of you. Quite suddenly, paths form at your feet, barely distinct in the murk. When you tread closer to them, your footfalls make no sound—and in fact, looking down, the darkness is so thick that you can't even see your shoes. Only the upright doors at the end of each path give off enough light—or color, or difference—to be just barely visible in the gloom. One path leads to a black door that smells of blood and metal; it bears the emblem of a wolf, something solitary and proud. Another path leads to a bronze door that smells of wind and sand; it bears the emblem of a lizard, something quick and savage. The third path leads to a red door that smells of ink and fire; it bears the emblem of a monkey, something inquisitive and clever. The last path leads to a golden door that smells of coins and cologne; it bears the emblem of a cat, something mysterious and elusive. Something in you—that innate voice that you trust, the instinct that tells you when to use the Words and scrawled that message on the garden table—says that breaking out of the demon's spell has weakened its hold enough for you to seize control… at least momentarily. At least enough to find your friends. These doors must lead to where they're being held. Which door will you enter? <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'The black door with the wolf.' 'bladenightmare'>><<set $dreampartner to "blade">><<setblade +3>><<set $bladestatus to "Although you can't quite remember the details, your experiences in the Phantom Shore have brought you closer. You've seen him at his most vulnerable.">><</link>></li> <li><<link 'The bronze door with the lizard.' 'aylanightmare'>><<set $aylastatus to "Although you can't quite remember the details, your experiences in the Phantom Shore have brought you closer. You've seen her at her most vulnerable.">><<set $dreampartner to "ayla">><<setayla +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'The red door with the monkey.' 'rednightmare'>><<set $redstatus to "Although you can't quite remember the details, your experiences in the Phantom Shore have brought you closer. You've seen him at his most vulnerable.">><<set $dreampartner to "red">><<setred +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'The golden door with the cat.' 'chasenightmare'>><<set $chasestatus to "Although you can't quite remember the details, your experiences in the Phantom Shore have brought you closer. You've seen him at his most vulnerable.">><<set $dreampartner to "chase">><<setchase +3>><</link>></li> </ul>

You ready yourself and step through the door… finding yourself stepping into a dank and gloomy prison. Your heart leaps for a moment as you register the thick iron bars surrounding you, the blocks of impenetrable dark stone… but then you realize that you're looking <i>into</i> a cell; you're not the one inside it. Through a slit in the far wall, which lets in just the barest crack of sunlight, you think you can make out the gallows that stand outside of the Vice Guard's barracks. A black-hooded executioner is readying the noose outside, and you can hear the dim roar of approving spectators. "<i>Kill the Crooked King! Kill the Crooked King!</i>" Something stirs from inside the cell; a lithe, miserable lump of a figure, slumped on the ground and shackled hand, neck, and foot to a bracket bolted into the wall. Quite abruptly you realize that the figure is <i>Chase</i>, looking dirty, bruised, and ragged… the exact opposite of how he always seems, carelessly-elegant and nonchalant. "Crooked king," he mutters to himself. "What a name." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"...Chase?"' 'chasenightmarei'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Are they talking about you?"' 'chasenightmarei'>><</link>></li> </ul>

He laughs, a bit bitterly. "Yes, that's me," he says. "Chase Trinaeste, Crooked King, Bloodless Bandit, Prince of Thieves, and all manner of silly titles. More myth than man, at this point." Then he seems to notice you for the first time and, for a moment, curls away from your gaze, as if ashamed. "Come to gloat, have you?" he asks. Unlike his usual smooth and laughing tone, his voice is now a hoarse rasp, like a rusty hinge. "Come to see the marvel that you've orchestrated?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"What?... I didn\'t put you in there..."' 'chasenightmareii'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Chase, it\'s me."' 'chasenightmareii'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Are you all right?"' 'chasenightmareii'>><</link>></li> </ul>

He shifts to look at you again, one bruised green eye peeking out of his overgrown brown locks to assess you. "Oh, it's you," he murmurs, dragging himself up into a sitting position. However, by his expression, he doesn't seem to fully recognize you. "I thought… that you were someone else." Then he shakes his head. "What are you doing here? Come to get a look at the wretched thief before he hangs? Think I'm an animal in menagerie, do you?" It hurts, somehow, to see carefree and insouciant Chase like this—like looking at a bird with crippled wings. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"We need to get you out of here. Where are the keys?"' 'weneedgetoutchasenightmare'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"What happened to you?"' 'whathappenedtoyouchasenightmare'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"What are they hanging you for?"' 'whataretheyhangingyouforchasenightmare'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Who did you think I was?"' 'whodidyouthinkiwaschasenightmare'>><</link>></li> </ul>

He shakes his head. "One of the guards has them. They pass them off to different guards every hour or so, so they can't be pickpocketed or beaten unconscious. There's a whole rotating shift to keep it random. Almost flattering, all the effort they went to—if it wasn't going to kill me in the end." <<include "chasenightmareiii">>

He laughs, though the sound is bitter. "What <i>hasn't</i> happened to me?" Chase asks. "I trusted the wrong people, and they've stabbed me in the back. But I've stabbed others in the back before, so now I suppose I'm just getting my comeuppance." <<include "chasenightmareiii">>

He raises his hands to tenderly feel his bruised jaw, then turns his head to spit blood. "What <i>aren't</i> they hanging me for?" he asks. "They've got me for everything under the sun. Theft, grand burglary, murder, crimes against the Autarchy…" <<include "chasenightmareiii">>

He closes his eyes briefly, then says: "Someone I thought I knew. Someone I trusted. It doesn't matter now." <<include "chasenightmareiii">>

Somewhere in the distance, there's a clanking of an iron door, an answering roar from the crowd outside. Chase's eyes flit indifferently to somewhere behind you. "That'll be the executioner. They're coming to fetch me for my grand finale." You turn, preparing yourself to confront this executioner. Chase quickly says, "Don't stop him. I deserve it." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"What are you talking about?"' 'chasenightmareiv'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"No, you don\'t!"' 'noyoudontchasenightmare'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Maybe. But I need you right now."' 'maybebutchasenightmare'>><</link>></li> </ul>

He smiles in an ironic, melancholy way. "You don't know me, then, if you still think that," he answers softly. <<include "chasenightmareiv">>

"You don't need me, stranger," Chase answers, shaking his head. "No one does." <<include "chasenightmareiv">>

He looks away. "I've hurt… so many people in my life. Stolen from them, pillaged, plundered, robbed… I've tricked them, conned them, lied, fought, killed… Pretty much every bad thing you could think of, I've done. I deserve whatever's coming to me." He closes his eyes, pulls a little against the shackle chafing his neck. "I've betrayed people, too. It's only fitting that the people I thought I could trust most have now turned on me. Turned me in. All for what? Power?" He shakes his head. "Doesn't matter. The world's being set to rights, finally." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Chase, this isn\'t like you! This isn\'t you!"' 'chasenightmarev'>><<setchase +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Snap out of it, man! We have no time for a depressive episode!"' 'chasenightmarev'>><<setchase -1>><<setcharisma -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Whatever you did, you can atone for."' 'chasenightmarev'>><<setchase +1>><<set $chaseharden += 1>><</link>></li> </ul>

He grimaces. "I'm sorry," is all he says. He falls silent as the executioner appears behind you, a tall, burly man who utterly ignores your existence as he brushes past you to unlock the door to Chase's cell. He hauls Chase up and drags the unprotesting thief to the door, rumbling, "Your eyes are going to make good feed for the birds today, filcher." Chase avoids your gaze as he stumbles past. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Reach out and seize his coat. "You are not going to die!"' 'chasenightmarevi'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Place yourself in front of him. "I\'m not letting you go out there."' 'chasenightmarevi'>><</link>></li> <<if $intelligence gte 20>><li><<link 'Take his arm. "Chase, this is a dream. You need to wake up."' 'chasenightmarevi'>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $chaseromanceflag gte 5>><li><<link 'Hug him from behind. "Don\'t you recognize me? Are you really going to leave me like this?"' 'hugchasefrombehindnightmare'>><</link>></li><</if>> </ul>

"I need you," you tell him. "You can't abandon me like this." <<include "chasenightmarevi">>

He stiffens, blinking at you in sudden confusion. Then his expression clears a little, as if he recognizes you for the first time. "…<<c firstname>>?" Beside him, the executioner bares his teeth in a snarl. "Who're you?" he demands, as if only just now noticing you, too. "You're not supposed to be in here!" You square off against him. "You're not taking this man to the gallows." The executioner's hand flies to the ax strapped to his back. "Intruders die first!" he roars. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Kick him in the groin.' 'chasenightmarevii'>><<setstrength +1>><<setcompassionate -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Punch him in the face.' 'chasenightmarevii'>><<setstrength +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Wrench Chase\'s shackles out of his hands. ' 'chasenightmarevii'>><<setstrength +1>><<setchase +1>><</link>></li> <<if $intelligence gte 20>><li><<link 'Stare him down. "I know it\'s you, Quiial."' 'chasenightmarevii'>><<setcompassionate -1>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li><</if>> </ul>

The executioner lets loose an angry roar, something bear-like and not quite human. His eyes are suddenly black and pupil-less. He lunges for you, one thick and meaty hand reaching out to grasp your neck… And then, quick as lightning, Chase's chains are wrapped around his throat. The thief deftly applies pressure from behind and wrestles the man to his knees as the executioner's eyes bulge and redden. He chokes and gurgles for breath, clawing at the shackles to no avail. Spittle forms at the corners of his mouth as Chase brutally strangles him. Chase looks at you, and now his eyes are clearer and unclouded; he cocks his head at you. "You <i>aren't</i> supposed to be here," he says, as if just realizing it. "You weren't there when this all happened…" He looks at you curiously. "Is… is any of this real?" You shake your head. "No, it's not. It's Quiial's doing. You're in a dream." "Ah," Chase says, as if this makes sense to him. Then he pulls his chains taut and snaps the executioner's neck. The nightmare dissipates instantly. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "chasenightmareviii">><</link>></center>

Quite abruptly, you find yourselves back in the Dark Plains, swaying from the sudden snap back to reality. Chase is looking around, rotating his wrists experimentally, as if he can still feel the phantom weight of the chains that were on them. The look on his face is now calm, clinical: the usual mask of cheerful indifference that he usually sports. Whatever vulnerability he was feeling has instantly retreated to someplace deep inside him. He's immediately back to his old self. "Well," the thief drawls, crossing over to stand in front of you. "<i>That</i> was interesting." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Are you all right?"' 'areyouallrightchasenightmare'>><<setchase +1>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"What was that all about?"' 'whatwasthatallaboutchasenightmare'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You\'re not going to say thank you?"' 'yourenotgoingtosaythankyouchasenightmare'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

"Oh, sure," Chase says carelessly. "I was just mentally tormented by a demon for God-knows-how-long, but I'm doing great." He winks at you. "How are you doing, gorgeous? All good?" <<include "chasenightmareix">>

"What was what all about?" Chase asks airily. "I'm not quite sure what just happened. Memory's a bit foggy, and all." <<include "chasenightmareix">>

He grins suddenly and bows to you with a flourish. "Thank you, <<c firstname>>," he says brightly, winking. "You saved my hide in there. I'll be sure to repay the favor sometime." <<include "chasenightmareix">>

Without waiting for an answer, he looks around critically at the darkness surrounding you. "Dreary place, this is. You'd think a being like Quiial would have more imagination." His green eyes light up suddenly with an emotion that you can't name, something wrathful and sadistic, though the placid smile remains on his face. "I can't wait to kill that thing. It was really trapping me in one of its nightmares, huh?" You nod. "Bastard," Chase says cheerfully. Then he looks back at you, a look of distant concern now crossing his face. "Did it… do the same to you?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Tell the truth. "It tried."' 'tellthetruthchasenightmare'>><<setchase +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Lie. "No. I woke up here and went looking for you."' 'chasenext'>><<setcunning +1>><<setloyal -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

<<nobr>><<if $chaseromanceflag gte 4>> For just the briefest instance, something like anger crosses Chase's face, and he leans in close to examine you. His green eyes are suddenly sharp and catlike, and you can smell leather and cologne as he peers into your face. "You all right, $nickname?" he asks you softly. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"No, not really... but there isn\'t time for that now."' 'chasenext'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Yes, I\'m fine."' 'chasenext'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'ll feel better when we get out of here."' 'chasenext'>><</link>></li> </ul> <<elseif $chase gte 40>> He looks really concerned now. "Are you all right?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"No, not really... but there isn\'t time for that now."' 'chasenext'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Yes, I\'m fine."' 'chasenext'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'ll feel better when we get out of here."' 'chasenext'>><</link>></li> </ul> <<else>> <<include "chasenext">> <</if>><</nobr>>

He sighs, taking this in. Then he reaches up and clasps your shoulder. "Well, thanks," he says, just a tad awkwardly. "I'd have been in real trouble, if it weren't for you. Don't know that I could have ever broken out of there on my own." You straighten then and look around. The other doors are gone! "The others… What about the others?" <i>Are <b>they</b> going to be trapped forever?</i> But even as you think it, you hear footsteps stumbling towards you in the darkness—somewhere far off, a voice cries, "I heard <<c firstname>>'s voice!" You whirl, and Chase tenses slightly, drawing his twin daggers from their sheaths at his belt. Soon enough figures emerge from the gloom: Red, Ayla, and Blade. The five of you all stare at each other wildly for a moment. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Step forward. "You\'re here! How did you get out of your nightmares?"' 'stepforwardchasenightmare'>><</link>></li> <<if $cunning gte 20>><li><<link 'Edge away. "How do we know it\'s really you?"' 'edgeawayhowdoweknowchasenightmare'>><<setcunning +2>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link 'Draw your $mainweapon. "It\'s Quiial! Attack!"' 'drawweaponquiialattackchase'>><<setcourage +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Chase tilts his head. "Yeah, shouldn't you still be trapped?" <<include "chasenexti">>

"Shouldn't you still be trapped by Quiial?" Chase asks, cocking his head. <<include "chasenexti">>

"Wait!" Red flings up his hands. "It's really us, not Quiial!" You regard him narrowly. "You should be trapped in your dreams, like Chase just was." <<include "chasenexti">>

"We were," Blade says tersely, stepping forward to get a better look at you. Ayla, looking like a wild, frightened animal, twitches away from him when he brushes past her. "But then something happened—we felt the demon's hold on us loosen suddenly, and we found ourselves here." You look at Chase, who raises his eyebrows. Could it have been an effect of the two of you breaking out of your own nightmares? Your combined wills cracking through the demon's power, shattering its hold on this strange place even further? "That means it must be weak," Chase says, reaching the same conclusion as you. "We need to find the thing and kill it dead." Ayla frowns. "But how do we do that? It's still somewhat in control—it could be hiding anywhere—" <<include "reunion">>

You ready yourself and step through the door… and find yourself instantly in a barren desert seared by a brutal sun. Golden sands stretch around you for as far as the eye can see, broken up occasionally into sloping dunes; but otherwise the land is flat and featureless, not even dotted by scrub. Ahead of you is an acidic blue sky with a white hole being burnt into its fabric by the blinding noonday sun. Heat strikes down on you like hammer blows against a forge, and strange birds of prey wheel ahead, seemingly awaiting a meal. You look around. There's no living creature in sight. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Hello?"' 'aylanightmarei'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Ayla?"' 'aylanightmarei'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Can anyone hear me?"' 'aylanightmarei'>><</link>></li> </ul>

No answer. You decide to walk on for a few minutes, your feet sinking up to the ankles into scorching sand that singes your skin. Clouds of grit rise in dirty plumes around you as you stumble forward. You have to cover your mouth with a sleeve to keep from inhaling the grit and choking. Where is Ayla? As you trek through the empty desert, you pass only two things of note: a pair of human skeletons half-lodged in the sand, bleached white by the sun and crumbling from years of decay, and a spine-covered torchtree, a kind of desert plant with shoots sticking up in a thorny array like a torch, lined with bright yellow, bony spines. <<nobr>><<if $courage gte 30 or $intelligence gte 30>> <ul class="choices"> <<if $courage gte 30>><li><<link 'Examine the skeletons.' 'examineskeletonsaylanightmare'>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $intelligence gte 30>><li><<link 'Examine the torchtree.' 'examinetorchtreeaylanightmare'>><</link>></li><</if>> </ul> <<else>> <<include "aylanightmareii">> <</if>><</nobr>>

You take a peek at the skeletons lying submerged in the sand, but curiously, they are featureless and indistinct: you can't even tell what sex they might have been. The only thing of note is that you find one clutching a small, heavy jade stone, which looks identical to the one that Ayla wears at the end of her braid. Ominous… <<include "aylanightmareii">>

You look closer at the torchtree, taking care not to touch its wicked sharp thorns. There's not much to say about it, except that it seems like the yellow spines are beaded with some kind of milky liquid. Intuition tells you that it's likely poison. Ominous… <<include "aylanightmareii">>

You walk on. What feels like hours pass. Sometime after passing the torchtree, a thin cry suddenly draws your attention; you think it came from behind a sand dune to your left. "Ayla?" you call. "<i>Help</i>!" the faint voice calls back. Following the sounds of the cries up and over the sand dune, you finally find Ayla standing at its bottom, submerged to her hips in a pool of black sand. Or ooze. Is she… trapped in quicksand? <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "aylanightmareiii">><</link>></center>

"Don't move!" she says sharply when you start and stumble towards her. Her eyes are wild, and she doesn't seem to completely recognize you. "If you fall in too, we'll both drown." You stare at the muck that seems intent on slowly creeping up her waist. "What is that?" "Tar pit," Ayla answers shortly. She looks around, breathing quickly; she seems on the verge of panicking. "I need—I need help. A rope, a branch… something." From where she's standing in the tar pit, you're at least twelve feet away at its edge. You glance around, but there is no rope, and no nearby trees to hack branches from. Ayla's breathing quickens as the tar begins to reach her chest. She begins to move now, trying to wade towards you, but the movement only causes her to sink faster. Her eyes go wide, and she begins to flail and churn through the tar. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Stop! Hold still!"' 'aylanightmareiv'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Don\'t panic!"' 'aylanightmareiv'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Try and reach me!"' 'aylanightmareiv'>><</link>></li> </ul>

The Wind-Mage doesn't seem to hear you. The tar is now reaching her collarbone. "Shit," Ayla blurts. "Shit, shit, shit!" When she looks at you again, her eyes are afraid and slightly manic. "Do something!" she screams. Her panic is starting to infect even you. You cast your eyes around again, but there's no method of support here, just featureless landscape. When you think to check, your pack is gone, as are your weapons… <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'The skeletons?' 'skeletonsaylatree'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'The torchtree?' 'torchtreeaylatree'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Your clothes?' 'clothesaylatree'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Could you maybe somehow use their bones to form a kind of connective rope to reach Ayla? But they're so far away, and what would you use to bind them together?… "I found these bones," you tell her lamely, struggling to piece together a coherent idea. "Maybe I could use them?" For some reason, this causes Ayla to become more hysterical. "<i>You think the dead can help me</i>?" she screams. <<include "aylanightmarev">>

Could you somehow use one of the torchtree's branches to save Ayla? But it's been a long time since you last passed it, and by the time you went there and back, she'll have already drowned… "I passed a torchtree," you begin lamely, struggling to piece together a coherent plan. "Maybe I could use a branch…" Ayla glares at you. "How could we hold on to it?" she howls. "They're poisonous, and—it'll cut us to pieces besides!" <<include "aylanightmarev">>

Maybe you could somehow tie your clothes together into a rope? It would only work if Ayla did it as well, but you don't see how that would happen, as the two ropes would have to still connect together in the middle for you to pull her to safety… Ayla is agog when you hesitantly move to pull off your shirt. "What are you doing?" she shrieks. "Keep your kakking clothes on and <i>help me</i>!" <<include "aylanightmarev">>

Again, she tries to make a desperate lunge for you… but the black ooze makes a sound of great suction, almost like the sound of a giant mouth slurping… and with a scream she finds herself being pulled down up to her neck. "<i>Help me</i>!" Ayla cries again. <<include "helpayla">>

You leap in to save Ayla, sinking into your ankles into the cold, viscous black mud. You plow through it determinedly to get to the Wind-Mage, who's still flailing helplessly in the center of the pit; but by the time you've even reached halfway, the tar is already up to your knees. Your movements are slowing down; it's like trying to walk through wet pavement, the thick, concrete-like liquid dragging at your feet and weighing down your limbs. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Slow down and move more calmly.' 'slowdownmovemorecalmy'>><<setintelligence +1>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Put one last burst of energy into crossing the distance.' 'jumpintograbaylai'>><<setayla +1>><<setstrength +1>><<setcourage +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

"<i>What the hell are you doing</i>?" she asks, seeing you crawl to a snail's pace. "Just trust me!" you yell back. "This will keep me from sinking faster!" <<include "jumpintograbaylai">>

Ayla is beginning to choke for breath by the time you reach her, the tar now up to her chin. She doesn't look relieved to see you when you arrive in front of her; instead, her eyes are filled with despair. "You shouldn't have come for me," she whispers, struggling to keep her head above the tar. "I drag everyone down with me. That's how it always goes." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"No, we\'re not going to die. I\'m going to get you out of here."' 'nowerenotgoingtodiesandayla'>><<setayla +1>><<set $aylaromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"If you don\'t want to be responsible for my death, you need to <i>do something</i>."' 'ifyoudontwanttoberesponsibleayladream'>><</link>></li> <<if $intelligence gte 20>><li><<link '"Ayla, this is a dream."' 'aylathisisadreamsand'>><</link>></li><</if>> </ul>

She stares at you. "How?" <<include "jumpintograbaylaii">>

That seems to jolt her out of it for a moment; she shakes her head, as it clearing it of a fog, then says in a steadier tone, "How?" <<include "jumpintograbaylaii">>

She blinks, then shakes her head. "What are you talking about?" "Don't you remember? Quiial? It's using this nightmare against you!" For a moment Ayla is silent, and the pause is so long that the tar reaches her bottom lip. She turns her face straight up to the sun and says finally, "How do we get out?" <<include "jumpintograbaylaii">>

You look around. This is a dream world, with dream logic… <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'If you believe you can pull Ayla out, you will.' 'ifyoubelieveyoucanpullaylayouwill'>><<set $aylaharden += 1>><<setayla +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Grab her and tell her to trust you. Then <i>sink</i>.' 'grabherandtellhertotrustyouthensink'>><<set $aylaromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> </ul>

She flinches as you seize hold of her wrist, her lean, wiry arm now feeling so thin and insubstantial that it's hard to feel it through the muck at all. She's taking her last deep breaths as the tar threatens to drown her. You look into her eyes. "I'm going to get you out," you tell her. "Believe in me." For a moment, Ayla doesn't answer, too distracted by her need to breathe; resisting her urge to panic and lash out against sinking, the sensation of oncoming suffocation. The feeling of being trapped. Then, finally, she meets your eye and nods. You turn and begin to haul her back through the tar, willing yourself to do it in the same way you will things to be done by your magic. In your mind's eye, you're as light as a feather, as strong as an ox—Ayla weighs nothing more than a handful of cotton, and the tar isn't tar, but water. No, a bed of leaves. <i>This is nothing more than a dream,</i> you tell yourself. <i>If Quiial can have control here, so can I.</i> Miraculously, you find yourself doing it. You tow Ayla back through the tar and muck, pulling her halfway out so that you're dragging her by the wrist. The edge of the tar pit is closer now; you can hear Ayla gasping raggedly for breath. She can't move of her own volition, though she flops and flounders like a fish the more she rises up out of the ooze. Then she rasps, "<i>We're so close</i>." She looks up at you now, seemingly finally recognizing who you are. "Do it, <<c firstname>>!" One slick hand wrapped around hers, you suddenly find yourself losing balance and toppling forward. Your other hand reaches out, grasping for that one golden ledge of dry land… You fall through the air… And then, all at once, you land… and the nightmare dissipates. <<include "aylaout">>

She flinches as you put your arms around her; you can barely feel her lean, hard frame through all the muck between you, but you know she's there. She's taking her last deep breaths as the tar threatens to drown her. You look into her eyes. "Trust me," you tell her. "This is the way out. If you trust me, it will be all right to sink." For a moment, Ayla doesn't answer, too distracted by her need to breathe; resisting her urge to panic and lash out against the sensations of being trapped, of suffocating. Then, finally, she meets your eye and nods. Then she disappears under the tar. You close your eyes and sink down, too. Your hands meet each other's beneath the surface of the tar and cling tight even as darkness fills your vision. Ooze fills your mouth and lungs. Ayla does not let go. You sink, and sink… And then your feet touch the bottom of the pit. And then, all at once—the nightmare dissipates. <<include "aylaout">>

But you're too far away still, and the tar has reached Ayla's ears; she claws her way to keep above the surface and screams. With the ooze filling her ears, there's no way she can hear you. <<include "helpayla">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "aylaouti">><</link>></center>

Quite abruptly, you find yourselves back in the Dark Plains, swaying from the sudden snap back to reality. Ayla is on her knees, gasping and wheezing for breath, although she's completely unharmed and clean of mud. She chokes and spits as if she'd really been drowning, through, clutching at her chest as she sucks in great gulps of air. She looks around as she gasps, looking bewildered and frightened. <ul class="choices"> <<if $aylaromanceflag gte 3>><li><<link 'Hug her and stroke her hair to comfort her.' 'hugherandstrokehairtocomfort'>><<set $aylaromanceflag += 1>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setayla +1>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link 'Put a hand on her shoulder and tell her she\'s going to be fine.' 'putahandonhershouldershesgoingtobefine'>><<setayla +1>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Wait and watch from a respectful distance.' 'waitandwatchrespectfuldistance'>><<setloyal -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Turn away and examine your surroundings.' 'turnawayexaminesurroundingsayla'>><<setcunning +1>><<setloyal -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

After another moment of sputtering, Ayla abruptly jerks away from you. "What're you doing?" she mutters, wiping her mouth. She doesn't meet your gaze and pulls into herself defensively. <<include "aylaoutii">>

After another moment of sputtering, she looks up at you. "…Thanks," she pants, wiping her mouth. She doesn't meet your gaze. <<include "aylaoutii">>

After another moment of sputtering, she looks up at you. <<include "aylaoutii">>

"What the <i>fuck</i> was all that about?" In a moment her face switches from terrified to… absolutely furious. You explain again about Quiial, how it was trapping her in her own nightmare and sapping her of power by tormenting her, and Ayla's eyes spark dangerously. "I'll fucking kill it," she spits, shooting to her feet. It seems her anger gives her a renewed sense of energy and strength. "I'll tear it up, bit by bit! Spit out hunks of it for the vultures with my teeth!" Then she looks around at you, a bit suspiciously… or with maybe a sense of wonder. "You. Why… why did you come for me?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I thought you might need my help."' 'ithoughtyoumightneedmyhelpayla'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I felt the closest to you."' 'ifelttheclosesttoyouayla'>><<setayla +3>><<set $aylaromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I don\'t know. I didn\'t really think about it."' 'idontknowididntreallythinkofitayla'>><</link>></li> </ul>

She stiffens, and her face is drawn and taut as she looks away. "So you thought I was the weakest link, huh?" she mutters, hugging her arms. "Figures." <<include "aylaoutiii">>

"You don't even know me," Ayla says, shaking her head. <<include "aylaoutiii">>

Ayla grunts. "Got it," she says, a bit sardonically. <<include "aylaoutiii">>

Then she looks back at you, and her hawk-like amber eyes have a strange emotion in them… a softness and warmth that's fleeting but distinct. "In any case… thank you," she mumbles, looking away with a dusky blush on her cheeks. "I… I wasn't expecting any of you to come running after me, so…" She trails off, embarrassed. "Yeah. Anyway. Thanks." Then she folds her arms suddenly and scowls. "And I'd appreciate it if you didn't mention any of that to the others. In return I'll owe you a favor. Two favors—one for getting me out of that trap in the first place, and another for keeping, you know, quiet about it." You straighten then and look around. The other doors are gone! "The others… What about the others?" Without your help, are they going to stay trapped? But even as you think it, you hear footsteps stumbling towards you in the darkness—somewhere far off, a voice cries, "I heard <<c firstname>>'s voice!" You whirl, and Ayla stiffens, her hand going to her quarterstaff on her back. Soon enough figures emerge from the gloom: Red, Blade, and Chase. The five of you all stare at each other wildly for a moment. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"You\'re here! How did you get out of your nightmares?"' 'youreherehowdidyounightmares'>><</link>></li> <<if $cunning gte 20>><li><<link '"How do we know it\'s really you?"' 'howdoweknowitsreallyouayla'>><<setcunning +2>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link '"It\'s Quiial! Attack!"' 'itsquiialattackayla'>><<setcourage +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Ayla regards them more suspiciously. "You should still be trapped," she says, eyes narrowed. <<include "aylaoutiv">>

"You should still be trapped by the demon," Ayla says, also regarding them suspiciously. <<include "aylaoutiv">>

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Chase flings up his hands. "Hold on there, <<c nickname>>! It's us!" You regard him narrowly. "You should be trapped in your dreams, like Ayla just was." <<include "aylaoutiv">>

"Well, we were," Red says, stepping forward to get a better look at you. Blade is staring at you, tense and coiled for action, his dark eyes darting over you again and again, as if he's just as wary of the situation. "But then something happened—we felt the demon's hold on us loosen suddenly—" You look at Ayla. Could it have been an effect of the two of you breaking out of your own nightmares? Your combined wills cracking through the demon's power, shattering its hold on this strange place even further? "That means it's weak," Ayla says, reaching the same conclusion as you. "We need to find it now and murder it while we can." Chase frowns. "But how do we do that? It could be hiding anywhere—" <<include "reunion">>

You ready yourself and step through the door… and find yourself stepping into a darkened library. <<nobr>><<if $education is "Circle-trained">> Some parts of it are familiar to you, the old shelves from Solhadur's library cobbled together with nooks and crannies that you don't recognize. <</if>><</nobr>> The bookcases here all seem to be from different places, woods of different colors and strange books with no titles stitched together to form higgledy-piggledy walls lining thin, narrow walkways. It's almost like a hedge maze, the geography and geometry of the place making no real sense. Cabinets and casements jut together at haphazard, uneven angles, dead ends forming where they weren't there before. The shelves of this labyrinth are so tall that they tower up into the gloom and vanish, like buildings rising up into mist—and they seem to tilt, ever so slightly, towards you, as if they're in danger of toppling. The air is thick with the smells of dust and rotting pages. You look around, straining your eyes to see through the gloom, peering around the silent shelves looming over you like monoliths to some dead god… Then someone grabs your arm. You whirl; it's Red, breathing hard and holding up a flickering golden orb of light between his fingers. "<i>Run</i>," he says. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "rednightmarei">><</link>></center>

Something pursues you as the two of you dash along the shelves, bashing into some in your haste and sending books flying. It's a dark, stalking thing that sometimes flickers into sight somewhere behind you; sometimes you catch glimpses of it when you glance over your shoulder, a menacing, indistinct shape that hunches on all fours, sometimes standing stock-still and yet drawing ever closer, sometimes crawling towards you in an obscene, disjointed way. Once or twice it peers out between shelves with staring white eyes, like a dead fish's, barely snagging at your sleeves with a swipe of an eerie, too-long arm. Red careens from shelf to shelf, pathway to pathway, leading you in a mad chase away from this thing. He seems to know where he's going—he at least acts like he's not totally lost—but your surroundings never change, and eventually you start to feel like he's leading you in a giant, dizzying circle. Meanwhile, the thing stalks closer and closer. You can hear it… purring, or chittering to itself, or something, a sound both insect-like and alien. Red turns a corner, swears, and spins around. There's a light sheen of sweat on his face; although he's breathing steadily, you can tell he's growing winded. It seems he's been running from this thing for a long time. His eyes have the distinct edge of unthinking terror in them. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"What is that thing?!"' 'rednightmareii'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Why is it trying to kill us?"' 'rednightmareii'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Why are we running from it?"' 'runningfromitrednightmare'>><</link>></li> </ul>

"Are you joking?" Red asks incredulously. "It's trying to kill us! And look at it! It looks terrifying!" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"What is it?"' 'rednightmareii'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Why is it trying to kill us?"' 'rednightmareii'>><</link>></li> </ul>

"I'm not sure," he gasps. "I think I—summoned it. On accident. From somewhere else. I was just experimenting, trying to understand how the worldwalls worked, and I ripped through one, and that thing came through, and—<i>watch out</i>!" He seizes your arm and yanks you out of the way just as the creature drops down from a shelf, letting loose a high screech that makes your throat hurt and your eyes water. It fails to cleave you in half with its deadly-looking claws and surges back up one of the shelves, disappearing into the mist above. Red curses again, uncharacteristically. "What do we do?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Can\'t we fight it?"' 'cantwefightitrednightmare'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Can\'t you send it back?"' 'cantyousenditbackrednightmare'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Can\'t you take us back home?"' 'cantyoutakeusbackhomerednightmare'>><</link>></li> <<if $intelligence gte 25>><li><<link '"Were you experimenting to understand more about the Phantom Shore? What if that thing is Quiial?"' 'werentyouexperimentingrednightmare'>><</link>></li><</if>> </ul>

He shakes his head. "Absolutely not," he says adamantly. "We don't know its capabilities; we could be engaging it in a fight we'd quickly lose. We just need to outrun it, tire it out…" <<include "rednightmareiii">>

He shakes his head. "No. I don't know how to. I'm sorry." He rubs his forehead in frustration. "I was messing around with things I shouldn't have, and now I've unleashed this thing I can't put back. If only we could outsmart it—" <<include "rednightmareiii">>

He looks at you blankly. "Home? What are you talking about? This <i>is</i> home." "No, it's not," you argue back. "This is another world." Red shakes his head. "This is our world. That's the whole point: we've—I mean I've—let this thing into Blest." He runs his hands through his hair. "If ony we could outsmart it, try and—I don't know—tire it out…" <<include "rednightmareiii">>

Red gives you a strange look. "What are you talking about? The Phantom Shore? Quiial?…" <<include "rednightmareiii">>

Before you can answer, the creature drops down again, hedging you into this dead end. It bares its teeth and lashes out once, its arm long and whiplike, the talons on the end of it wicked and curved. <<nobr>><<if $strength gte 20>> You feint to the side, successfully dodging its strike, but Red is not so lucky. He stumbles just as the thing nicks his ankle and sends him sprawling to the ground. <<else>> You don't manage to dodge in time, feeling the deadly-sharp claws snag at your ankle and sending you toppling. Red is struck, too, and barely manages to catch your elbow before he, too, stumbles and falls. <</if>><</nobr>> The creature leaps back and clings to one of the shelves, watching as the two of you struggle: its behavior rather reminds you of a sadistic cat toying with its prey. You notice for the first time that it possesses a long, bony, spiny barbed tail, which whips back and forth in anticipation of the kill. "Shit," Red curses as you pull him up. One glance at his ankle shows a bright streak of red, and he can't put his full weight on it. The creature, triumphant, watches from a high ledge, chittering and gloating. Its skeletal body is elongated and ghostly-white, covered in bluish veins. Its face is indescribable, a many-jawed monstrosity with white, staring eyes: a visage straight out of a nightmare. "Come on—we've got to run—" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"You can\'t run on that leg!"' 'rednightmareiv'>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"No, we need to fight back."' 'rednightmareiv'>><<setcourage +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"We should try and hide."' 'rednightmareiv'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Red shakes his head. "We can outpace it," he argues back, swiftly kneeling and tying a strip of cloth around his ankle. "We can tire it out, eventually." "And what happens then?" you demand. He grabs your wrist again. "And then we can get away!" <i>But where would we go</i>? you want to ask him. It's becoming clear to you that this library labyrinth could go on forever—and that this thing could be chasing you forever. Haunting your every steps, lurking always just behind you. How do you break the cycle? <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Grab Red\'s arm. "You need to kill it!"' 'grabredsarmnightmare'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Grab Red\'s shirt and shake him. "You need to wake up! You\'re in a dream!"' 'grabredsshirtnightmare'>><</link>></li> </ul>

His eyes go wide. "I—I can't," Red says. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Why not?"' 'grabredsarmnightmarei'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Have you even tried?"' 'grabredsarmnightmarei'>><</link>></li> </ul>

He shakes his head. "It's safer to run!" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"It doesn\'t matter what\'s <i>safer</i>!"' 'rednightmarev'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You can do it! I\'m right here with you!"' 'rednightmarev'>><<setred +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"No, it\'s better to face it and destroy it yourself!"' 'rednightmarev'>><</link>></li> </ul>

He blinks at you, confused—then his expression clears a little when he seems to see your face and recognize it. "…<<c firstname>>?" <<include "rednightmarev">>

Before you can say anything else, the monster lets loose one last high-pitched screech; now you see its eyes burning with rage as it looks down on you, glaring, as if to say, <i>You're not supposed to be here!</i> It pounces, vast maw unhinged to wrench your head off from your shoulders… And Red sets it on fire. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "rednightmarevi">><</link>></center>

The sound the creature makes as it alights in the air is something you will never forget: the grisly <i>pop</i> of a pepper blistering on a grill, tight flesh roasting and bursting in the same second. Its fiery body arcs towards you like a speeding comet, dead eyes staring at you sightlessly, but before it can collide with you, Red is interposing his body in the way, swinging his warhammer… It connects, and you feel the impact moving through your very bones… And then, just as suddenly, the nightmare dissipates. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "rednightmarevii">><</link>></center>

Quite abruptly, you find yourselves back in the Dark Plains, swaying from the sudden snap back to reality. Red, still holding his warhammer, lowers it warily, then puts a hand to his head and sags to the ground, groaning at the abrupt transition. <ul class="choices"> <<if $redromanceflag gte 3>><li><<link 'Kneel beside him and take his hand to comfort him.' 'rednightmareviii'>><<set $redromanceflag += 1>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setloyal +1>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link 'Put a hand on his shoulder and support him silently until he stands up again.' 'rednightmareviii'>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setloyal +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Wait and watch from afar until he feels like himself again.' 'rednightmareviii'>><<setloyal -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Turn away and examine your surroundings.' 'rednightmareviii'>><<setcunning +1>><<setloyal -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Eventually Red's eyes seem to adjust, because he opens them again and says weakly, "That was Quiial, wasn't it?" You nod. "Great," Red says dryly, passing a shaky hand over his eyes as he moves to stand up. He looks pale, still covered in a light sheen of sweat from racing away from the creature. "Just… just give me a moment, will you? I need to… need to process what just happened." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"All right. Take your time." Remain close by and let him breathe.' 'allrightrednightmare'>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setred +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Don\'t take too long. We\'re still in its territory."' 'donttaketoolongwerestillred'>><<setcunning +1>><<setred +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You can think later. We need to find the others and get out of here."' 'youcanthinklaterrednightmare'>><<setcompassionate -1>><<setred -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Red shuts his eyes for a moment, focusing on trying to even out his breath. His eyes knit in concentration, and you can tell he's deeply disturbed by what just happened, and is trying to compartmentalize that part of his mind for now. Finally he rises and murmurs sincerely, "Thank you, <<c firstname>>." <<include "rednightmareix">>

Red nods and shuts his eyes for a moment. Then another. Eventually his breathing evens out, though his brow knits in thought. Finally he rises and murmurs, "Thanks." <<include "rednightmareix">>

Red shuts his eyes for just a moment. "…Yeah, you're right," he murmurs finally, rising. <<include "rednightmareix">>

Then he glances at you. "…I suppose you're wondering what that nightmare was all about?" <ul class="choices"> <<if $intelligence gte 35>><li><<link 'You don\'t need to wonder; you can guess well enough.' 'youdontneedtowonderrednightmare'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link '"Yeah, what was that thing?"' 'yeahwhatwasthatthingrednightmare'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'No, his demons are his own. You don\'t need to know.' 'rednightmarex'>><<setloyal -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

"It was about your fears about the consequences of your experiments, wasn't it?" you say. "You know you're meddling with things you don't understand and forces you may not be able to control in your quest for knowledge… and deep down, that scares you. And instead of being ready to face and accept the consequences of your actions, you want to run away from them, and charge recklessly ahead into your ventures without stopping to really think and confront your fears about them…" Red blinks at you, obviously more than a little startled by your insight. "Er… yes, I suppose that's the most articulate way of putting it…" he says slowly. <<include "rednightmarex">>

Red grimaces. "I'm not sure," he begins. "I'm guessing it was metaphorical—which wasn't a subtlety I was expecting from Quiial, to be honest." He blinks and passes a hand over his eyes again. "…I'd say it was a representation of my deepest fears. Well, sorry, it was a nightmare: so it was obviously about that." Then he bites his lip. "Deep down, I suppose I'm… <i>apprehensive</i> about where my studies might lead. I know I'm meddling with forces I don't understand and probably can't control… and I suppose that frightens me. But instead of stopping to think on that too long, I just keep myself moving, thinking about things and keeping myself preoccupied so that I can't dwell on it too long. So I suppose I haven't faced the fears that have been chasing me…" He falls silent, looking embarrassed. "And, er… yeah." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"That does make sense..."' 'thatdoesmakesenseredstudies'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"<i>That\'s</i> your greatest fear?"' 'thatsyourgreatestfearrednightmare'>><<setred -3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Maybe you should stop and face them sometime."' 'maybeyoushouldstopandfacethemred'>><<set $redharden += 1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Red scratches the back of his neck, rather sheepishly. "Maybe it's a bit obvious, isn't it?" he jokes. <<include "rednightmarex">>

He frowns. "Well, yes," he says. "Not everyone's is, you know, being roasted alive by a dragon, or something. And I'd say that creature was pretty terrifying. No? Just me?" <<include "rednightmarex">>

"I think I just did," Red answers, smiling briefly. "Thanks to you." <<include "rednightmarex">>

Then he takes in your expression and grimaces sympathetically. "Did… I suppose you were subjected to the same treatment?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Tell the truth. "For a while."' 'truthrednightmare'>><<setred +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Lie. "No. I woke up here and went looking for you."' 'rednext'>><<setcunning +1>><<setloyal -1>><<setred -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

<<nobr>><<if $redromanceflag gte 3>> Red's eyes flash with concern, and suddenly he reaches out and tilts your chin up so he can get a good look at you. <br><br> "Are you all right?" he asks you, his voice soft and concerned now. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"No, not really... but there isn\'t time for that now."' 'rednext'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Yes, I\'m fine."' 'rednext'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'ll feel better when we get out of here."' 'rednext'>><</link>></li> </ul> <<elseif $red gte 40>> He looks concerned now. "Are you all right?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"No, not really... but there isn\'t time for that now."' 'rednext'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Yes, I\'m fine."' 'rednext'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'ll feel better when we get out of here."' 'rednext'>><</link>></li> </ul> <<else>> <<include "rednext">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Red takes this in for a moment, nodding. "We'll talk more when we get out of here," he tells you gently. Then he takes a breath and says, "I should thank you, too. For coming to get me—for saving me from the demon, in fact. I might have been trapped in there forever if not for you." You straighten then and look around. The other doors are gone! "The others… What about the others?" <i>Are <b>they</b> going to be trapped forever?</i> But even as you think it, you hear footsteps stumbling towards you in the darkness—somewhere far off, a voice cries, "I heard <<c firstname>>'s voice!" You whirl, and Red hefts his warhammer again. Soon enough figures emerge from the gloom: Blade, Ayla, and Chase. The five of you all stare at each other wildly for a moment. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"You\'re here! How did you get out of your nightmares?"' 'yourehereredhowdidyou'>><</link>></li> <<if $cunning gte 20>><li><<link '"How do we know it\'s really you?"' 'howdoweknowitsreallyyoured'>><<setcunning +2>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link '"It\'s Quiial! Attack!"' 'itsquiialattackred'>><<setcourage +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Red, too, is regarding them curiously. "Shouldn't you all still be trapped?" he asks. <<include "rednexti">>

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Chase flings up his hands. "Hold on there, $nickname! It's us!" You regard him narrowly. "You should be trapped in your dreams, like Red just was." <<include "rednexti">>

"We were," Blade says, stepping forward to get a better look at you. Ayla, looking like a wild, frightened animal, twitches away from him when he brushes past her. "But then something happened. We felt the demon's hold on us loosen suddenly." You look at Red. Could it have been an effect of the two of you breaking out of your own nightmares? Your combined wills cracking through the demon's power, shattering its hold on this strange place even further? "That means it's weak," Red says, reaching the same conclusion as you. "We need to find it now and destroy it before it rallies itself again." Ayla frowns. "But how do we do that? It's still somewhat in control—it could be hiding anywhere—" <<include "reunion">>

You ready yourself and step through the door… finding yourself stepping into a place you've never been before, but which you recognize instantly as the Autarch's Sun Court. There's no mistaking the dazzling white marble of the famous throne room, fashioned so that when the sunlight hits it, the Autarch's esteemed figure and her golden throne are enshrouded in light, blinding the eyes of the unworthy and forcing supplicants to cast their gazes down. Obvious, too, are the many banners with the resplendent seal of the Autarchy hanging from the ceiling: alternating red and white backgrounds with the golden eye and its rays radiating outward to mimic the sun, hanging like the flayed skins in the dead air. You recognize it all even though you've never actually seen it, and despite the fact that it's night, now: the famed white marble lies dark and dormant as you step through the doorway in the air and look around. And then, suddenly, a pair of arms seize you from behind and shove you against one of the many pillars lining the throne room. "Don't move," a low voice whispers into your ear. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Snap your head back and headbutt your attacker in the face.' 'snapyourheadbackblade'>><<setstrength +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Try and turn your head to see them.' 'tryandturnheadbladenightmare'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Struggle against their hold. "Who are you?"' 'struggleagainsttheirholdbladenight'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Obey and go completely still.' 'obeyandgostillbladenight'>><<setblade +1>><<setloyal +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

You hear a slight grunt of surprise as whoever it is deftly steps back, dodging your attack but also releasing you in the process. You whirl to find yourself facing… Blade. <<include "bladenightmarei">>

You turn your head to the side, craning to get a look in the dark. "…Blade?" <<include "bladenightmarei">>

"I said, don't move." The whisper comes harsh and angry, but the figure moves a little into your field of view. Blade. <<include "bladenightmarei">>

After a tense moment of waiting in the darkness, the person relaxes their hold and steps into your field of view. Blade. <<include "bladenightmarei">>

He's dressed in different clothes than when you first came to the Phantom Shore: an all-black outfit with a hood and mask obscuring most of his face. In his hand he holds his dark-metaled sword, Anguriel, and in the other, a wicked-looking dagger… and his body is coiled and tensed as a panther's, half-crouched on the balls of his feet. His eyes are alert and cold, and he radiates a chilly danger you haven't experienced from him. He seems… different. Sharper, harder. More distant. He holds up a hand when you move to speak, ordering silence, his dark eyes darting around to all corners of the room. In the gloom they seem to glint and reflect the light strangely, in a chatoyant, silver way, a little like a cat's: he's channeling arma to his eyes in order to see through the dark. "Move," Blade breathes after a moment—and then, without warning, he seizes you and jumps backwards, farther and more agilely than should be humanly-possible. There's a brief hissing sound from behind you that you think is coming from a viper… And then, when you look back, a long, black-tipped spear juts out of the ground where you were just standing. Blade moves again, so quickly and silently his clothes don't even make a whisper; his sword flashes through the air like quicksilver, and you see a blur of movement; the motion of two blades meeting; a sudden arc of blood, appearing as if out of nowhere. Someone retreating back into the dark. Blade grabs your wrist and begins to run. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "bladenightmareii">><</link>></center>

The next few moments are a chaotic flurry of motion; there are a number of unseen attackers pursuing you, hurling weapons, sometimes morphing out of the darkness to hedge you in. Blade fends them off capably, wordlessly—but you can tell by the tense set of his shoulders that this is not a good situation to be in. You notice that he does very little to actually finish your pursuers off and merely wounds them when he has to. Defending, not attacking back. <<set $ask1 to false>><<set $ask2 to false>> <<include "bladenightmareask">>

<ul class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("whoarethesepeoplebladenight")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Who are these people?"</div>' 'whoarethesepeoplebladenight'>><<set $ask1 to true>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("whyaretheytryingkillyoubladenight")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Why are they trying to kill you?"</div>' 'whyaretheytryingkillyoubladenight'>><<set $ask2 to true>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("whyareweherebladenight")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Why are we here?"</div>' 'whyareweherebladenight'>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link 'None of this feels right... Why are you here again?' 'bladenightmareiii'>><</link>></li> </ul>

"Assassins," Blade answers shortly. As if that weren't already obvious. <<include "bladenightmareask">>

Blade doesn't answer that. <<include "bladenightmareask">>

"This is the Sun Court," Blade says, his dark eyes scanning the room. This throne hall seems to stretch forever and ever; you feel as if you have been dashing past columns for an eternity, and are no closer to the ends of the room than when you started. "I'm here to kill the Autarch." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Why?"' 'whybladenightmareask'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Are you working alone?"' 'workingalonebladenightmareask'>><</link>></li> <<if $ask1 is true>><li><<link '"So are they soldiers of the Autarch?"' 'soaretheysoldiersofautarchbladenightmare'>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $ask2 is true>><li><<link '"Is that why they\'re trying to kill you?"' 'isthatwhytheyretryingtokillyoubladenight'>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link '"But you didn\'t kill the Autarch... you work for her."' 'butyoudidntkillautarchbladenightmare'>><</link>></li> </ul>

The look he throws you is scathing. "There are a thousand reasons why, and very few why not." <<include "bladenightmareiii">>

Blade's expression furrows, as if he's struggling to remember the answer to your question. "I don't know," he admits finally, brow knit. <<include "bladenightmareiii">>

Blade shakes his head. "They're far more competent," he answers. "And deadly. They're members of the Ket Rebellion. The last of the world's greatest assassins." <<include "bladenightmareiii">>

Blade doesn't look at you. "No," he says finally, his voice devoid of emotion. "It's because I failed. They think I betrayed them." <<include "bladenightmareiii">>

"What?" Blade snaps. His hand snaps up suddenly, and he cleaves a speeding arrow in half with his sword. "I don't know what you're talking about. Tell me later." <<include "bladenightmareiii">>

Before you can gather your thoughts, a tall figure suddenly coalesces from the darkness, slinking toward you. Blade immediately tenses in recognition, backing away, his eyes dark and burning with some hidden emotion. He puts his sword up to guard, and he looks… Trapped. The man padding out of the darkness is lean and rangy with muscle, the lower half of his face obscured by a mask similar to Blade's, a long ragged scar over his right eye. He has a shock of silver hair, though he seems only ten years older than you and Blade, and his voice when he speaks is light and mellifluous. In his hands are two very nasty-looking scythes. <<nobr>><<if $heritage is "Ket">> "Cousin," the man drawls, addressing Blade in Kettish. "Why do you run from family?" <br><br> Blade's whole body seems to coil: in wariness, in distress. <<else>> He turns to Blade and says something to him in Kettish. Whatever it is, Blade's eyes narrow and he takes another step back, herding you away from the man. <</if>><</nobr>> When he answers in Common, his voice is cold and harsh. "Why do you hunt me?" he asks. "Everywhere I turn—one of you is there. Lurking in the shadows, crouching on the rooftops. Waiting to open my throat with one of your blades. Are our loyalties broken so easily?" "You should ask yourself that," the man snaps then, his voice icy and whip-like. "You betrayed everything we stood for. Our highest ideals. All our hopes rested on you, and you turned your back on them like they were nothing. <i>Loyalty</i> is only given to men who have honor. You—you are nothing more than a dog. And dogs deserve to be hunted." Blade's only response is to edge back again, but when you catch a glimpse of his face, you see that these words have wounded him deeply. That he has been dreading hearing them. For the first time you see Blade confused, ashamed… even afraid. Doubt crosses his face, as if he's wondering if any of this is true. The man pads forward again, his eyes intent. "Let me kill you," he urges. "Put an end to all of this. You are compromised." "I am not," Blade answers hoarsely, defiantly. His grip on his sword hilt is white-knuckled and tight. The silver-haired man shakes his head. "You are. And the longer you stay alive, the more of a threat you pose to us. To your people, and to your brother…" He lifts the scythe in his right hand. "Let me kill you, cousin. You won't have to be afraid anymore. Afraid of us, waiting in the shadows to kill you… or afraid of hurting us in your bid to stay alive." He smiles, almost coaxingly. "This can all be over. Peace at last." Blade shakes his head, as if he's trying to clear his ears of water. "Shut up," he answers—but his voice, for once, sounds unsteady, thick with some emotion. "Death is not peace." The man draws even closer. "You know that's not true." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Grab Blade\'s arm. "Fight back! Don\'t give up and die!"' 'grabbladesaremfightbacknight'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Face the attacker. "What the Hael is going on?!"' 'faceattackerwhatthehaelgoingon'>><</link>></li> <<if $intelligence gte 20>><li><<link '"This is a dream! None of this is real! You have to wake up!"' 'thisisdreamnonerealbladenightmare'>><</link>></li><</if>> </ul>

Blade blinks at you. "<<c firstname>>?" You shake him. "The Blade I know is one of the greatest warriors on the Continent: he wouldn't give up so easily! Are you really letting him get to you?" His expression clears, just for the moment—and he nods. The silver-haired man makes a noise that will haunt you forever—something between a snarl of hatred and an inhuman hiss. He charges forward, intent on killing you—but Blade's sword snaps up easily, smoothly, and pierces him through the heart. The nightmare dissipates instantly. <<include "bladenightmareiv">>

The silver-haired man's dark eyes fly to you for the first time, and his expression contorts in an expression of fury, hatred, and resentment. "<i>You</i>," he says. "You're not supposed to be here. Get out!" He charges at you. You ready yourself to defend—where are your weapons? When did they go missing?—but before you can move, Blade's sword is snapping up, taking advantage of the man's distraction. With a deft twist of his wrist, his sword cleaves off the man's head in one swift slice, with a clean sound like the cutting of lemon. The nightmare dissipates instantly. <<include "bladenightmareiv">>

Blade's eyes jump to you, and he shakes his head again, trying to clear it of its fog. "What?" You put your hands on his shoulders and shake him. "The demon Quiial is trapping you in this nightmare. But it's not real; it's only preying on your deepest fears, your regrets. Don't let it exploit you! Take back control!" The silver-haired man makes a noise that will haunt you forever—something between a snarl of hatred and an inhuman hiss. He charges forward, intent on killing you—but Blade's sword snaps up easily, smoothly, and pierces him through the heart. The nightmare dissipates instantly. <<include "bladenightmareiv">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "bladenightmarev">><</link>></center>

Quite abruptly, you find yourselves back in the Dark Plains, swaying from the sudden snap back to reality. Blade is crouching on the ground, panting hard; he passes a shaky hand over his eyes, struggling to recover. <ul class="choices"> <<if $bladeromanceflag gte 6>><li><<link 'Kneel beside him and take his hand to comfort him.' 'bladenightmarevi'>><<set $bladeromanceflag += 1>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setloyal +1>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link 'Put a hand on his shoulder and support him silently until he stands up.' 'bladenightmarevi'>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setloyal +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Wait and watch from afar until he feels like himself again.' 'bladenightmarevi'>><<setloyal -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Turn away and examine your surroundings.' 'bladenightmarevi'>><<setcunning +1>><<setloyal -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Eventually Blade's breath steadies and he looks up, looking grim—and angry. "That was Quiial?" he grates out, looking livid. "Trapping me in a vision? Sapping me of power?" You nod. A look of cold rage spasms across his face, and he begins to rise to his feet. Then he looks at you. "Did it do the same to you?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Tell the truth. "It tried."' 'truthbladenightmare'>><<setblade +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Lie. "No. I woke up here and went looking for you."' 'bladenext'>><<setcunning +1>><<setloyal -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

<<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 6>> Loathing flashes across his face again, and almost unknowingly he reaches up to brush a lock of hair from your cheek. "Are you all right?" he asks you, his voice soft and concerned now. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"No, not really... but there isn\'t time for that now."' 'bladenext'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Yes, I\'m fine."' 'bladenext'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'ll feel better when we get out of here."' 'bladenext'>><</link>></li> </ul> <<elseif $blade gte 40>> He looks concerned now. "Are you all right?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"No, not really... but there isn\'t time for that now."' 'bladenext'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Yes, I\'m fine."' 'bladenext'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'ll feel better when we get out of here."' 'bladenext'>><</link>></li> </ul> <<else>> <<include "bladenext">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Blade takes this in for a moment, nodding. Then he says, slowly, haltingly: "What you saw in there…" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Yeah, what was that about?"' 'yeahwhatwasthataboutbladenightmare'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Forget it. Your secrets are your own. I won\'t pry."' 'forgetitbladenightmare'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'m not interested in your demons."' 'imnotinteresteddemonbladenightmare'>><<setblade -1>><</link>></li> <<if $bladetime gte 3>><li><<link '"That\'s what you told me about before, right? The night you went to kill the Autarch?"' 'thatswhatyoutoldmeaboutbladenightmare'>><<setblade +1>><</link>></li><</if>> </ul>

<<nobr>><<if $bladetime gte 3>> "I'll tell you when we're out of here," he says. "Sometime." <br><br> <<include "bladenexti">> <<else>> Blade grimaces. "It's a long story," he says. "One too long to tell now." <br><br> <<include "bladenexti">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Blade nods, looking relieved. "I'm… glad." <<include "bladenexti">>

Blade looks away. <<include "bladenexti">>

He nods, looking grim. "Yes… though the illusion made it… different, obviously. More twisted." "Who were those people pursuing you?" But already the details of the dream are fading. "They weren't soldiers of the Autarch, were they? They were…" But now it's hard to remember. Blade shakes his head, looking tired. "Another time," he says. <<include "bladenexti">>

Then, when he looks at you again, the glance he shoots at you is grateful. "Thank you," he says quietly, sincerely. "For coming to get me. For breaking me out of the nightmare. I might have been trapped in there forever if not for you." You straighten then and look around. The other doors are gone! "The others… What about the others?" <i>Are <b>they</b> going to be trapped forever?</i> But even as you think it, you hear footsteps stumbling towards you in the darkness—somewhere far off, a voice cries, "I heard <<c firstname>>'s voice!" You whirl, and Blade draws his sword again. Soon enough figures emerge from the gloom: Red, Ayla, and Chase. The five of you all stare at each other wildly for a moment. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"You\'re here! How did you get out of your nightmares?"' 'youreherehowoutofnightmareblade'>><</link>></li> <<if $cunning gte 20>><li><<link '"How do we know it\'s really you?"' 'howdoweknowitsreallyoublade'>><<setcunning +2>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link '"It\'s Quiial! Attack!"' 'itsquiialattackblade'>><<setcourage +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Blade regards them more suspiciously. "You should still be trapped," he says, eyes narrowed. <<include "bladenextii">>

"You should be trapped by Quiial," Blade says, also regarding them suspiciously. <<include "bladenextii">>

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Chase flings up his hands. "Hold on there, $nickname! It's us!" You regard him narrowly. "You should be trapped in your dreams, like Blade just was." <<include "bladenextii">>

"Well, we were," Red says, stepping forward to get a better look at you. Ayla, looking like a wild, frightened animal, twitches away from him when he brushes past her. "But then something happened—we felt the demon's hold on us loosen suddenly—" You look at Blade. Could it have been an effect of the two of you breaking out of your own nightmares? Your combined wills cracking through the demon's power, shattering its hold on this strange place even further? "That means it's weak," Blade says, reaching the same conclusion as you. "We need to find it now and finish it off." Ayla frowns. "But how do we do that? It's still somewhat in control—it could be hiding anywhere—" <<include "reunion">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "reunioni">><</link>></center>

A door appears out of the darkness a few feet away from you, blinking into existence as suddenly as a popped soap bubble. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "reunionii">><</link>></center>

It's painted blood-red and stands in the air, so sharply-outlined it looks like it could cut you if you touch it. Everyone turns slowly to look at it. "Well, shit," Chase says. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I guess that answers that question."' 'iguessthatanswersquestionreunion'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I have a bad feeling about this..."' 'reunionihaveabadfeeling'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Well, that\'s convenient."' 'reunionwellthatsconvenient'>><</link>></li> </ul>

"Hold a moment," Blade says sharply. "You can't possibly be suggesting we go through there, can you?" Ayla nods fervently. "Fuck that sideways a million times," she agrees. "That's a trap waiting to happen!" <<include "reunioniii">>

"I agree," Blade says, looking at the door with a wary, catlike suspicion. "Nothing good can come from opening that door." <<include "reunioniii">>

Red looks around at you all, a bit nervously. "But do… do we really have any choice?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Are you kidding? That\'s exactly what the demon wants us to do!"' 'reunionareyoukiddingdemon'>><<setcunning +2>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"We should go through... but carefully."' 'weshouldgothroughreunioncarefully'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Step towards the door and try to open it.' 'settowardthedoorandtryopen'>><<setcourage +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

"Yeah," Chase says. "I'm generally all for doing the unexpected, but in this case, it seems like playing right into the bastard's hands." <<include "reunioniv">>

"If we go through there, it's going to tear us apart," Ayla says, hugging her arms. "No way." <<include "reunioniv">>

"Wait," Blade says sharply, reaching out to grab your sleeve. "We need to think about this." <<include "reunioniv">>

"We're still in the Faceless Lord's realm," Red points out. "It could hide from us indefinitely; <i>years</i> could pass here, even if it was only a few minutes in our world. It could wear us down in that time, drive us insane… turn us against each other. I don't think we have any choice but to press on now and not give in to its fear-mongering and manipulations… while it's all still fresh in our minds. The longer we wait, the more we're in danger of forgetting." He nods at the door. "This door must lead somewhere. Maybe the demon <i>wants</i> a confrontation." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I don\'t know..."' 'reunionv'>><<setcourage -1>><</link>></li> <<if $cunning gte 25>><li><<link '"You\'re acting suspicious. How do I know you\'re not the demon, trying to tempt us?"' 'youreactingsuspiciousreuniondemon'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link '"Red\'s right. I think we should do it."' 'reunionv'>><<setcourage +1>><<setred +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

"Yeah," Ayla exclaims, wheeling on him. Red smiles a little. "I suspect this is what it wants—to drive us apart even when we're together—but you can test me with your magic, if you want. Would the Faceless Lord suggest that?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Regard him suspiciously. Quiial <i>did</i> try to tempt you into using a Word of Power, after all...' 'regardsuspiciouslyredreunion'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li> <<if $magic gte 35 or $psionic gte 20>><li><<link 'Test him with your magic, while you\'re still clear-headed enough to do so.' 'testhimwithmagicredreunion'>><<setmagic +1>><<setpsionic +1>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link 'Don\'t test him. His suggestion enough proves his legitimacy.' 'reunionv'>><<setred +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

After a moment of indecisive silence, Ayla rounds her shoulders into sullen humps. "Don't know how to work magic like that," she mutters to you, "Not exactly… but I don't feel anything off about him." Blade regards the Archmage narrowly, but he doesn't make a move to threaten him. "Nor do I," he admits with some reluctance. <<include "reunionv">>

You send out a tendril of your magic, testing and probing at Red's essence—and everyone else's, while you're at it. It certainly <i>feels</i> like them, in that same way you unconsciously know how they smell or how their auras feel when they're in the same room as you… You let go of the magic and nod. "We're all real. Ourselves, I mean." "Well, unless <i>you're</i> Quiial just telling us that… but in the interest of saving time, I'm not going to question it," Chase quips with a weak grin. <<include "reunionv">>

Red meets your gaze squarely. "We need to have faith in each other," he says, his voice firm and sure. "Our only advantage here is numbers: the Faceless Lord is in control of everything else but that. We outnumber it. If we stick together, and have faith in each other… we can defeat it. And whatever lies beyond that door." "And if we don't?" Ayla asks then, sharply. "Have faith in each other? You forget, some of us are strangers." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"That doesn\'t matter. I trust all of you."' 'reunionvi'>><<setayla +3>><<set $aylaharden += 1>><<setloyal +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Better a stranger than a demon."' 'reunionvi'>><<setayla +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I suppose we have no choice."' 'reunionvi'>><<setayla -3>><</link>></li> </ul>

She stares at you hard for a moment, absorbing that. Then, finally, she huffs and pops out her hip, folding her arms. "Shit," Ayla grouses. "Fine, then. Let's go through the bloody door." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Open the door.</span></div></div>' "reunionvii">><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<if settings.music is true>><<audio "phantomshore" volume 0 loop fadeoverto 5 0.1>><</if>><<set $holdhands to false, $hampered to 0>><<romancecalc>><</nobr>>The world on the other side of the red door looks no different from the Dark Plains you just left, but the air feels different: rather than dead and empty, it feels… tense. Electrified with awareness. Like something is watching you. It makes no sense, but you suppose logic doesn't operate on a normal level here in the Phantom Shore. Your group resolves not to be separated by the demon's wiles by… <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '...holding hands with each other.' 'holdinghandshampered'>><<set $hampered to 2>><<set $holdshands to true>><<setloyal +5>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 7 and $highestromance is "blade">><<set $bladeromanceflag += 1>><<elseif $chaseromanceflag gte 5 and $highestromance is "chase">><<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>><<elseif $redromanceflag gte 3 or $highestromance is "red">><<set $redromanceflag += 1>><<elseif $aylaromanceflag gte 3 or $highestromance is "ayla">><<set $aylaromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <<if $rope is true>><li><<link '...tying a connective rope around each others\' waists.' 'tryingconnectiveropearoundwaists'>><<set $hampered to 1>><<set $holdshands to true>><<setloyal +3>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link '...gripping each other\'s shoulders in a single-file line.' 'grippingeachothersshouldersinsinglefile'>><<set $hampered to 2>><<set $holdshands to true>><<setloyal +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '...sheer willpower alone.' 'sheerwillpoweralonereunion'>><<setloyal -5>><</link>></li> </ul>

This hampers your movements greatly, but at least you're all in physical contact with each other: it will be hard for the demon to separate you now. <<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 7 and $highestromance is "blade">> You find yourself holding Blade's hand, his palm broad and iron-strong in yours. <br><br> <<include "resilient">> <<elseif $chaseromanceflag gte 5 and $highestromance is "chase">> You find yourself holding Chase's hand, his grip slim and nimble in yours. <br><br> <<include "resilient">> <<elseif $redromanceflag gte 3 or $highestromance is "red">> You find yourself holding Red's hand, his grip warm and friendly in yours. <br><br> <<include "resilient">> <<elseif $aylaromanceflag gte 3 or $highestromance is "ayla">> You find yourself holding Ayla's hand, her palm wiry and tense in yours. <br><br> <<include "resilient">> <<else>> <br><br> <<include "resilient">> <</if>><</nobr>>

At least this way, your hands are free to defend yourself… though it's a little awkward moving while tied to two other people. <<include "resilient">>

This hampers your movements greatly, but at least you're all in physical contact with each other: it will be hard for the demon to separate you now. <<include "resilient">>

You simply must keep an eye on each other at all times. <<include "resilient">>

"We just have to be resilient," Red cautions again. "I'm sure if we fight against it hard enough, we can break the demon's hold on this world and force it to expose itself." So you move on, tense and wary. There is nothing to look at but oppressive darkness all around you, and you're forced to shuffle forward bit-by-bit, flinching at each movement and stray sound that comes to you through the neverending gloom. Blade is tense and silent in the lead, his sword in hand; Chase subdued and alert, his eyes glinting greenly in the dark; Ayla startled and wild-eyed, her braid whipping around at each movement; and Red something like falsely-cheerful, doing his best to keep everyone's spirits high. Eventually you come to a set of three doors in the darkness. All are the same painted red as the first one, and none give you any indication as to where they might lead. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Take the first door.' 'resilienti'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Take the second door.' 'resilienti'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Take the third door.' 'resilienti'>><</link>></li> </ul>

"More darkness," Chase comments dryly as you go through. "Excellent." You walk on a bit more in silence before you start to hear something. It sounds like the wet thuds of… a beating heart? When you look around, you suddenly feel as if this darkness you're trapped in is the cavernous stomach of some creature too big to conceive of, the fleshy reverberations of its heart echoing up through your feet. As you walk, the sound grows louder and louder. <ul class="choices"> <<if $courage gte 25>><li><<link 'Ignore it.' 'resilientii'>><</link>><<setcourage +1>></li><</if>> <li><<link 'Look at the others. "Do you hear that?"' 'lookattheothersresilient'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Blade looks back at you, his eyes sharp. "I don't hear anything." Ayla gives you a strange look. "Neither do I." "Just ignore it, <<c firstname>>," Chase says, clapping you on the shoulder. "Just the demon playing tricks on us." You swallow. "…All right." <<include "resilientii">>

Eventually you come to a set of three doors in the darkness. All are the same painted red as the first one, and none give you any indication as to where they might lead. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Take the first door.' 'resilientiii'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Take the second door.' 'resilientiii'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Take the third door.' 'resilientiii'>><</link>></li> </ul>

There's a collective groan as you find more darkness on the other side. "Damn it!" Ayla growls. "How many times are we going to have to do this?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"This is only the second set we\'ve gone through."' 'thisisonlysecondsetresilient'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"This is only the third set we\'ve gone through."' 'thisisonlythirdsetresilient'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"We\'ll keep doing this for as long as it takes."' 'wellkeepdoingthisresilient'>><</link>></li> </ul>

She gives you a strange look. "No, it's not," she tells you. <<include "resilientiv">>

She gives you a strange look. "No, it's not," she tells you. "By my count it's our fourth." <<include "resilientiv">>

She gives you a hard look. "What, so for all eternity? We've already been through this eight times!" <<include "resilientiv">>

"We just have to keep going," Blade cuts in sternly. "Keep moving." Eventually you come to a set of three doors in the darkness. All are the same painted red as the first one, and none give you any indication as to where they might lead. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Take the first door.' 'resilientv'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Take the second door.' 'resilientv'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Take the third door.' 'resilientv'>><</link>></li> </ul>

"Did… did anyone else hear that voice?" Red asks. You hear nothing but the sounds of your own shuffling through the dark. "What voice?" Blade asks suspiciously. Red looks away. "It's nothing. Never mind." Eventually you come to a set of three doors in the darkness. All are the same painted red as the first one, and none give you any indication as to where they might lead. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Take the first door.' 'resilientvi'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Take the second door.' 'resilientvi'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Take the third door.' 'resilientvi'>><</link>></li> </ul>

"Shut up," Blade says through his teeth. You look at him, startled. "What?" His gaze snaps to you and he jolts a little, then passes a hand over his eyes. "The demon," he says, not looking at you. "Trying to whisper… doubts into my mind." Then he shakes his head. "It's nothing. I can ignore it." "I hear it, too," Chase says. "It's trying to prey on our fears again. Our anxieties…" "Our jealousies," Ayla whispers then. "Let's just keep moving," Red says hurriedly. "Maybe we're getting close." Eventually you come to a set of three doors in the darkness. All are the same painted red as the first one, and none give you any indication as to where they might lead. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Take the first door.' 'resilientvii'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Take the second door.' 'resilientvii'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Take the third door.' 'resilientvii'>><</link>></li> </ul>

You're beginning to feel as if you're walking in circles. Chase yelps suddenly and brushes something off of his sleeve. "What is it?" Blade snaps, turning with his sword glinting in his hand. "Cockroach," Chase says with a shudder. Then he blinks and peers down at the pitch-black ground. "…At least, I thought it was." Eventually you come to a set of three doors in the darkness. All are the same painted red as the first one, and none give you any indication as to where they might lead. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Take the first door.' 'resilientviii'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Take the second door.' 'resilientviii'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Take the third door.' 'resilientviii'>><</link>></li> </ul>

<<nobr>><<if $shepherdsconscript is true>> "You know, I'm beginning to think it would have been better to let the Inquisitors kill you," Blade says. <<else>> "You know, I'm beginning to think it would have been better if that Revenant had killed you," Blade says. <</if>><</nobr>> "Yeah," Chase chimes in. "And I know I would have been better off if you'd never hauled me into this." "Same here," Ayla says. "You just get everyone killed, don't you?" "That's all you're good for," Red adds. "You bring death and destruction everywhere you go." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"<i>What</i>?"' 'resilientix'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Huh?"' 'resilientix'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"...Do you really think that?"' 'resilientix'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"How dare you!"' 'resilientix'>><</link>></li> <<if $intelligence gte 35>><li><<link '"You\'re not really saying that."' 'resilientix'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li><</if>> </ul>

Blade looks at you strangely. "What is it, <<c firstname>>? No one said anything." Red touches your elbow. "Are you all right? You've gone pale." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I\'m fine. Forget it."' 'resilientx'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Let\'s just keep going."' 'resilientx'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"<i>Fuck</i> this demon. It\'s getting in my head."' 'resilientx'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Red squeezes your elbow. "Don't let it mess with you." Eventually you come to a set of three doors in the darkness. All are the same painted red as the first one, and none give you any indication as to where they might lead. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Take the first door.' 'resilientxi'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Take the second door.' 'resilientxi'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Take the third door.' 'resilientxi'>><</link>></li> </ul>

You feel as if your mind is peeling apart, your vision blurring and your eyes crossing. Things are getting scrambled in your head, now, and you have an eerie sensation of vertigo, as if you could be walking on the ceiling of this place without knowing it. If there even is a ceiling. "I feel like shit," Chase whispers from somewhere behind you. However, when you look, he's actually leading you from the front. But wait, wasn't Blade the one in front?… Red wipes a bead of sweat from his brow. "I do, too," he says grimly. "It feels like it's getting hotter. Almost like we're walking into the fires of Hael." You feel your own drop of sweat trickle down the back of your neck like the crawling of an insect and shiver. It's true: the farther you walk, the more intense the heat becomes, and the more oppressive the darkness. Ayla clutches her stomach. "I'm going to throw up," she groans. You try to look at her, but you find that your eyes slide away from everyone else, as if they're suddenly too bright to see. Eventually you come to a set of three doors in the darkness. All are the same painted red as the first one, and none give you any indication as to where they might lead. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Gtrifdjs glfdk.' 'resilientxii'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Hreijgfvj.' 'resilientxii'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Bfrwhgav n.' 'resilientxii'>><</link>></li> </ul>

<<nobr>><<set $attack to 0>><<set $strike to "">><<set $attack to random(1,2)>> <<if $mainweapon is "bow">><<set $strike to "an arrow">><<elseif $mainweapon is "gun">><<set $strike to "a bullet">><<elseif $mainweapon is "sword" or $mainweapon is "dagger">><<set $strike to "your blade">><</if>> <<if $attack is 1>> Something shrieks off to your left, and suddenly something pale and ghostlike is lunging at you. <br><br> <<if $hampered gt 1>> You shout and try to raise your weapon to defend, but your movements are too hampered by everyone else around you. The thing falls against you, limp and groaning, and you scramble backwards in the dark, pulling everyone else with you. <br><br> "It's not real," someone's voice close to your ear says. "It's not real, <<c firstname>>!" <br><br> When you open your eyes again, the thing has vanished. <br><br> <<include "resilientxiii">> <<else>> You raise your $mainweapon to defend and put $strike through the thing's eye. There's a high scream, and to your horror you find that the creature you've just killed is <<if $cainesafe is true>> Caine… <<elseif $prihinesafe is true>> Prihine… <<else>> Caine… <</if>> You flinch back, too horrified to speak, and someone's hand finds your shoulder. "It's not real," they murmur into your ear, putting a hand over your eyes. You twist your head away, but they persist. "Don't look. It's not real, <<c firstname>>." <br><br> When you open your eyes again, the thing has vanished. <br><br> <<include "resilientxiii">> <</if>> <<elseif $attack is 2>> <<if $holdhands is "false">> When you look around again, you find that everyone else has disappeared. <br><br> Terror grips you in an instant, your whole body seizing with it, as if you'd been electrified. You look around in the dark, fumbling—but your hands grasp at empty air. <br><br> Where did everybody go? <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Call out.' 'calloutattackoption2'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Start running.' 'startrunningattackoption2'>><</link>></li> <<if $intelligence gte 30>><li><<link 'Stay still and shut your eyes. This isn\'t real' 'holdshandsfalsei'>><</link>></li><</if>> </ul> <<else>> Quite suddenly, you feel Ayla going slack at your side. When you turn to look at her, you find, to your horror, that there's a dark red stain growing at her chest… and when Ayla looks down, noticing your gaze, she, too, sees the blade that is sprouting through her heart. <br><br> Ayla opens her mouth to speak, but she can only gurgle as a bubble of red spittle wells at her lips. <br><br> Frozen in helpless shock, you can only trace the blade down to the arm holding it… which belongs to Chase, looking just as startled as you are to find him stabbing Ayla. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"What are you doing?!"' 'whatareyoudoingholdshandstrue'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Get away from her!"' 'getawayfromherholdshandstrue'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Ayla?!"' 'aylaholdshandstrue'>><</link>></li> </ul> <</if>> <</if>><</nobr>>

Your voice dies feebly on the dead air, too faint and muffled for anyone to hear. Somewhere—or maybe only in your own head—you can hear Quiial laughing. You stumble forward, calling again, before you trip over something and fall flat on your face. Suddenly multiple disembodied hands are plucking at you from the darkness. You recoil, screaming as they push and pull at your clothing… <<include "holdshandsfalsei">>

You start to run, your footfalls making no sound in the darkness—almost as if you have no presence in this realm. As if you don't exist at all. Somewhere—or maybe only in your own head—you can hear Quiial laughing. Then you trip and land hard on your face… and suddenly multiple hands are plucking at you from the darkness. You recoil, screaming as they push and pull at your clothing… <<include "holdshandsfalsei">>

When you open your eyes again, Blade is staring at you, looking concerned. "<<c firstname>>?" He waves a hand in front of your eyes, then snaps his fingers, making you startle. "Can you hear me?" You blink; quite suddenly you notice how quickly you're breathing. "What happened?" Red, to your other side, also looks worried. "You just went… catatonic for a moment," he says. "You went slack and stopped responding to us." "What did you see?" Ayla asks, watching you. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Shake your head. "It\'s... nothing."' 'holdshandsfalseii'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Tell them the truth.' 'holdshandsfalseii'>><</link>></li> </ul>

They all glance at each other, looking visibly worried, before Chase says: "…Let's just keep going." You don't miss that he hovers quite close to you now, as if acting on a silent order to keep an eye on you. <<include "resilientxiii">>

Chase looks pale and shaken, as if he's not in control of his own movements. "I… I don't know," he says, eyes wide as bright blood begins to gush over his hand. "I'm not doing it!" <<include "holdshandstruei">>

Chase looks pale and shaken, as if he's not in control of his own movements. "I can't," he breathes, eyes wide as bright blood begins to gush over his hand. "I can't move!" <<include "holdshandstruei">>

The Wind-Mage can only rattle out one last wet breath before her eyes close, and she begins to crumple. <<include "holdshandstruei">>

Then you feel it: a cold, piercing, icy pain in your own chest. You look down to find a knife driven into your own heart, and the hand holding it is your own… You die… <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "holdshandstrueii">><</link>></center>

"<<c firstname>>!" When you open your eyes again, Blade is staring at you, looking concerned. "<<c firstname>>?" He waves a hand in front of your eyes, then snaps his fingers, making you startle. "Can you hear me?" You blink; quite suddenly you notice how quickly you're breathing, the icy sweat that coats your back. "What happened?" Red, to your other side, also looks worried. "You just went… catatonic for a moment," he says. "You went slack and stopped responding to us." "What did you see?" Ayla asks, watching you. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Shake your head. "It\'s... nothing."' 'holdshandstrueiii'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Tell them the truth. ' 'holdshandstrueiii'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Eventually you come to a set of three doors in the darkness. All are the same painted red as the first one, and none give you any indication as to where they might lead. When you approach them, you find that one is white-hot to the touch, its surface radiating heat like a stove top; one is icy-cold, like the kind of metal in winter that fuses your fingers to its surface when you touch it; and one is wet with red paint… or weeping blood through its pores. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Open the white-hot door.' 'resilientxiv'>><<sethealth -5>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Open the ice-cold door.' 'resilientxiv'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Open the blood-covered door.' 'resilientxiv'>><</link>></li> </ul>

<<nobr>><<if settings.music is true>><<audio "phantomshore" fadeout>><<audio "phantomshorefinal" volume 0.1 loop play>><</if>><</nobr>>You open the door to find Haven burning. You're standing on a clifftop in the Sun's Embrace, the valley that surrounds the capital city and its plateau. Below you, Haven is ablaze in the night, its every tier on fire, orange and red bursting out of the white turrets and towers like they're melting candlesticks. The screams of the dying are a faint, eerie chorus on the night wind, and from here you can smell the greasy ashes of crumbling homes and burning flesh alike. There's something else spilling out of the city, too, and it's not just fire: a red-glinting army is pouring out of the gates to devour the surrounding countryside and beyond. An endless stream of dark-armored figures, some as grotesque and many-limbed as giant spiders, some the size of hulking Revenants… Wait… "Is that… is that an <i>Endarkened army</i>?" Red whispers beside you. Blade, on your other side, is scanning the horde intently. "There are so many," he says eventually, sounding disturbed. "Millions. As many or more than what fought in the Dawn Wars." "None of this is real," Ayla says in a shaky voice. "We're still in the Phantom Shore! This isn't reality!" "<i>Ah</i>," a familiar voice says from behind you. "But it is. You just don't know it yet." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "resilientxv">><</link>></center>

You whirl. And feel your gut lurch—for <i>you</i> are the one standing there, gazing back at your party with arrogant $eyecolor eyes. Or rather, it's Quiial wearing your face… and from the way the others tighten in a protective band around you, you have to wonder if that's what they see, too. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Nobody listen to it. It\'s trying to scare us."' 'nobodylistentoitquiial'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"What are you talking about, demon?"' 'whatareyoutalkingaboutdemonquiial'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Quiial laughs. "What would be the point in scaring you?" it asks, walking forward on <i>your</i> legs, <i>your</i> shoes. "I'm about to kill you all. A little watery fear is no use to me, not here." <<include "resilientxvi">>

Quiial laughs. <<include "resilientxvi">>

It turns to sweep an arm out to the scene before you: Haven annihilated, the sky turning black with smoke and ash, demons rampaging across the land and even taking to the skies, their ululating war cries and screams of laughter rending the air like the screeches of giant bats. "This is no mere nightmare, weaklings—this is a <i>vision</i>. A portent of the future. This is what awaits the world of Blest… Fate, inevitable and unstoppable." It takes a step even closer, so that now you can gaze into your own eyes, watch the familiar-but-foreign mouth shaping the terrible words. "We have put these plans into motion long ago, Brightburner," Quiial whispers to you, smiling. "Long before you were ever born. Slowly our forces have sown chaos, and dissent, and blood and madness and death unto your world. We have worked patiently, secretly, for millennia upon millennia. Our work has given the Faceless Lords the strength to rise, we who will herald a new apocalypse… and soon the Archdemon, our lord and master, our vessel of Tapyt, shall rise as well. When he awakens, he will use our gathered power to tear down the worldwalls… and the armies of Hael will march on the World of Light once again!" Chase's eyes go wide, and Ayla stifles a sharp gasp. You frown. The vessel of Tapyt? Has this been the Faceless Lords' true intent all along? Accruing enough demonic power for their dark god to open a portal from Hael to Blest… and invade your world? "You're lying!" Ayla shouts. "Everything that comes out of your mouth is a filthy lie!" Quiial laughs, and the sound of it coming from your throat is enough to make you sick. "Believe what you want," it says. "I can taste the stink of your fear from here." It looks at you knowingly. "You're wondering now, aren't you? Wondering if what you've done is enough to stop this from happening?" It leans forward and whispers conspiratorially: <<nobr>><<if $facelesslordsdead gte 1>> "You may have defeated the others… <<elseif $facelesslordsdead is 0>> "It's not." <</if>> <<if $blaphemeldead is true>> Blaphemel… <</if>> <<if $clochusdead is true>> Clochus… <</if>> <<if $facelesslordsdead gte 1>> But none of that matters. You won't kill me. And there are two others besides me, ruining your world even as you're delayed here in mine." Your own face smirks back at you. "You're already too late, Brightburner. The end of your Blest has already begun." <</if>><</nobr>> "It's not true," Red says then, in a firm, steady tone. He flinches when Quiial whirls to glare at him, but continues in a stronger voice: "It wouldn't bother telling us all this if it were true. It's just trying to wear us down—we've found it, and it's scared. Cornered. It's trying to make us afraid and feed on our fear." You watch as Quiial tips your head back and laughs. "No, mortal," it says tauntingly, drawing closer to him—though remaining just out of arm's reach. "I tell you this only so that you may ruminate on the totality of your failure as you die. To perish in ignorance of your own failings seems like such a waste, after all the effort you've gone through to get here." Then it pauses, watching you thoughtfully, greedy $eyecolor eyes drinking you in. "Of course," the demon wearing your face purrs, "we could always make an <i>exchange</i>." It glances indifferently at the sight of Haven on fire. "I could offer you a way to escape this fate…" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"...What kind of exchange?"' 'resilientxvii'>><<setcunning +3>><<setblade -1>><<setred -1>><<setayla -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Demons offering bargains is never good. "Don\'t listen to it!"' 'resilientxvii'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Plug your ears. "La-la-la-la, I\'m not listening!"' 'resilientxvii'>><</link>></li> </ul>

<<set $desire to "">>"Let me guess, you're going to offer for us to stay here, escape the destruction of our world by hiding out in yours, yada yada?" Chase quips. Despite his easygoing stance, you can see his eyes raking the demon's form, as if gauging how to kill it. The only thing that seems to be staying his hand—and Blade's, and Ayla's and Red's—is the wary sense that the demon is plotting something... and that it happens to look exactly like <i>you</i>. "The only catch is we have to give you our souls?" The Faceless Lord ignores him as it prowls back and forth, watching your group like a lion evaluating which gazelle is weakest in the herd. "No, nothing like that," Quiial purrs in your voice. "All I ask is that you don't interfere… whether that means staying here or going back, it doesn't matter to me. But so long as you keep away from our plans, you can escape your own dooms… and in return, I can give you anything you desire." Then it lifts a hand and points to Ayla, who flinches. "For example," the thing wearing your face drawls, "I'm sure you would like your family to stay with you in the world after the Burning? Your parents returned to you, happy and whole?" The Wind-Mage's face goes pale, her jaw slackening. She seems speechless. Then the demon points at Blade, who tenses, looking like he'd love to cut the thing's head off but not knowing if it's quite the right time for that yet. "And you," it says. "Wouldn't you like a world at peace? No conflict, no danger… no Autarch tormenting those around you, no betrayed brother hunting your every step?" Blade's expression doesn't change, but he says flatly, "Fuck you." Just his saying the words shows how shaken he is. His hand around the hilt of his sword is steady but white-knuckled. The Faceless Lord turns to Chase, who plasters on a weak, brave smile. "And what of you, thief-lord?" it asks mockingly. "Wouldn't you like a world where your past has been erased? Where you could start over fresh, with none of your old wounds or mistakes to haunt you?" "No idea why you think I would want that," Chase says in a falsely-chipper way. "That sounds awful." But he glances quickly away from the demon and fails to meet its eye again. Quiial looks at Red. "Knowledge," it promises him. "All the secrets you've been chasing. The ability to walk between worlds, to explore places no one in the known universes has ever walked. I can give you that power." Red presses his lips together and looks away. Finally the demon returns to you, taking one step closer… then another. "And you?" it whispers. "I see what you want most, <<c firstname>>…" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Your lost home, given back to you safely... time rewound and life started anew..."' 'resilientxviii'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"A chance to right your past mistakes..."' 'resilientxviii'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Your true parents revealed to you, your family whole again..."' 'resilientxviii'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"A world where you\'re free to be who you are, with no fears about the Autarchy..."' 'resilientxviii'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"True love and happiness with the person you most desire..."' 'resilientxviii'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"The ability to make everyone who sees you worship and desire you..."' 'resilientxviii'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Knowledge and power, the skills to become the greatest Mage this world has ever seen..."' 'resilientxviii'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"All the carnal pleasures you could want..."' 'resilientxviii'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Untold riches, gold as far as the eye can see..."' 'resilientxviii'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Something else...' 'desirequiialsays'>><</link>></li> </ul>

<i>What you want most is...</i> <br><br> <<textbox "$desire" "">> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>'>><<if $desire is "">><<script>> Dialog.setup("Error"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("blankdesire").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>><<elseif $desire is "cock" or $desire is "Cock" or $desire is "poop" or $desire is "Poop" or $desire is "shit" or $desire is "Shit" or $desire is "bitches" or $desire is "Bitches" or $desire is "pussy" or $desire is "Pussy" or $desire is "sluts" or $desire is "Sluts">><<script>> Dialog.setup("Error"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("dudecomeondesire").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>><<else>><<goto "desirequiialsays2">><</if>><</link>></center>

(Dude, come on.) <center><<button 'Return'>><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>></center>

What is your desire? <center><<button 'Return'>><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>></center>

"<<c desire>>," Quiial purrs. "Isn't that right?" <<include "resilientxviii">>

<<audio ":playing" fadeoverto 30 0>>Your fingers curl around your $mainweapon. You stare into the face that is both yours and not yours, a visage both cruel and beautiful, arrogant and somehow alluring. Everyone else seems frozen, arrested by whatever temptations it may be whispering inside their minds as the demon stares back at you, waiting… But however confident it may seem, you alone can read your own face. The demon is desperate. It's already tried this trick on you once before… And it didn't work the first time, either. <ul class="choices"> <<if $strength gte 45 and $courage gte 40>><li><<link 'Drive $strike into the demon\'s heart.' 'drivestrikethroughqsheart'>><</link>></li><<else>><<disabled "Drive $strike into the demon\'s heart.">><</if>> <<if $magic gte 45 or $astral gte 40>><li><<link 'Blast the Faceless Lord in the face with your magic.' 'blastfacelessqsfacemagic'>><</link>></li><<else>><<disabled "Blast the Faceless Lord in the face with your magic.">><</if>> <li><<link 'Speak a Word of Power and destroy the thing once and for all.' 'speakwordofpowerdestroyfacelessqs'>><<set $godspeaker -= 1>><<set $quiialdead to true>><<set $facelesslordsdead += 1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Quiial looses a terrible scream as you strike it, stumbling back as black blood gushes from its chest. It is truly bizarre to attack something that looks exactly like <i>you</i>, but your action is enough to snap the others out of it, and Blade lunges forward then, his sword blazing with arma, and Chase pulls out his pistol and shoots the Faceless Lord in the eye, and Red surges forward with his hands blazing with magic, and Ayla blasts its body backwards with a gust of wind as strong as a rampaging river… It does not take long for the five of you to hack the Faceless Lord to bloody pieces together. It has already been weakened the more you rebelled against its hold on the Phantom Shore, being whittled down by your clashing wills… It has already expended much of its power trying to keep all of you locked in your nightmares, battling it out with you on a mental level. Soon it's little more than a crumpled, insubstantial heap on the ground. But just as you're about to finish it off, you hesitate… How can you ensure it's really destroyed for good, rather than simply left to recuperate in this world again—until the next time it's ready to resurface? <<include "quiialstillalive">>

Quiial looses a terrible scream as you strike it, stumbling back as black blood gushes from its chest. It is truly bizarre to attack something that looks exactly like <i>you</i>, but your action is enough to snap the others out of it, and Blade lunges forward then, his sword blazing with arma, and Chase pulls out his pistol and shoots the Faceless Lord in the eye, and Red surges forward with his hands blazing with magic, and Ayla blasts its body backwards with a gust of wind as strong as a rampaging river… It does not take long for the five of you to hack the Faceless Lord to bloody pieces together. It has already been weakened the more you rebelled against its hold on the Phantom Shore, being whittled down by your clashing wills… It has already expended its power trying to keep all of you locked in your nightmares, battling it out with you on a mental level. Soon it's little more than a crumpled, insubstantial heap on the ground. But just as you're about to finish it off, you hesitate… How can you ensure it's really destroyed for good, rather than simply left to recuperate in this world again—until the next time it's ready to resurface? <<include "quiialstillalive">>

You think of brightness, of laughter and joy; of the good clean feeling in your heart after you've wept and wrung all the sorrow out of it, of the sun shining through leaves and dewdrops gathering on unfurling flowers. You hear a great mad rush of voices, of singing and chanting, something ancient and primal and human. You hear the rise of the moon and the roar of the tides and speak the music of the earth into the air. All of that power rushes out of you in a vast silver burst to engulf the Faceless Lord and consume it with white flame. "No!" the demon screams, blackening and curling in on itself like a dead leaf. The air in your lungs feels freer as you feel it begin to dissolve to nothing. "You're too late! Tapyt will come! You will— That's all it has time to say before you wipe it from the universe like scrubbing away a blemish, eradicating the thing utterly. You feel it die and the Phantom Shore begin to crumple with it. The darkness around you shatters, black shards falling away to reveal lights like the stars… "Shit!" Red says, grabbing you… and that's the last thing you hear before you're whisked away from the Phantom Shore for good. <<include "done">>

The creature meets your gaze with one red-rimmed eye. It can no longer speak, dwindled down as it is, but you can tell that it looks frightened. Ironic, for an Endarkened who feeds on terror and fear. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"This is for Zori."' 'qsalivei'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Tell your Archdemon he is <i>never</i> claiming Blest."' 'qsalivei'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I hope you die painfully."' 'qsalivei'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Fuck you, demon."' 'qsalivei'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"DIE!"' 'qsalivei'>><</link>></li> </ul>

The Faceless Lord opens its mouth to scream. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Eradicate it with your magic.' 'eradicateqswithmagic'>><<if $magic gte 50>><<set $quiialdead to true>><<set $facelesslordsdead += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Speak a Word of Power and cleanse the universe of its existence.' 'speakpowerquiialdead'>><<set $godspeaker -= 1>><<set $quiialdead to true>><<set $facelesslordsdead += 1>><</link>></li> </ul>

<<nobr>><<if $magic gte 50>> Your will, stronger than ever, meets with the Faceless Lord's in a ferocious clash that sounds like a comet colliding with the earth. You open your mouth to scream as power surges fiercely through you, feeling like your heart is an erupting volcano, a tiny bottle trying to contain a raging river… For a moment you feel as if you might simply burst. <br><br> The demon's essence evaporates before your own like an ant's before a beam of sunlight. You feel it die, its essence snuffing out like a candle flame, and you gasp like a rescued drowner as the free air fills your lungs. <br><br> Then you feel the Phantom Shore crumpling along with it, your friends crying out as the world around them begins to loosen and fall apart. The darkness around you shatters, black shards falling away to reveal lights like the stars… <br><br> "Shit!" Red says, grabbing you… and that's the last thing you hear before you're whisked away from the Phantom Shore forever. <br><br> <<include "done">> <<else>> Your will meets with the Faceless Lord's in a ferocious clash that sounds like a comet colliding with the earth. You open your mouth to scream as power surges fiercely through you, feeling like your heart is an erupting volcano, a tiny bottle trying to contain a raging river… For a moment you feel as if you might simply burst. <br><br> Somewhere you hear the demon screaming, but its essence refuses to budge, like a black spot from the world that can't ever be erased. With a rising sense of panic, you realize you aren't strong enough to destroy it entirely… but you <i>can</i> banish it back to Hael. <br><br> You scream the words, though what you're saying, you're not sure: they could as likely be epithets and wordless cries as they could be the words to an incantation. Still, you feel it—the worldwalls giving way, the warping and bending of space and time as you <i>shove</i> the demon away from you. When you feel the demon's soul go, your own feels lightened… cleansed. There is a <i>pop</i>, small and almost comedic in nature. <br><br> Then, when you open your eyes, you see that its body has disappeared… your strange and monstrous doppelganger is gone. <br><br> You sag in relief. The Faceless Lord is gone. Not forever, but for now. <br><br> You've won the battle for your own souls. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "eradicateqswithmagici">><</link>></center> <</if>><</nobr>>

With the demon's going, the Phantom Shore begins to give way, too; whatever Quiial did to keep root it in existence is now gone, and the world around you begins to crumple. The darkness around you shatters, black shards falling away to reveal lights like the stars… "Shit!" Red says, grabbing you… and that's the last thing you hear before you're whisked away from the Phantom Shore forever. <<include "done">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "donei">><</link>></center>

<center><div class="dot"> <<timed 1s t8n>> ... <<next>>... <<next>>... <</timed>><span class="next">[[Next|unpossessedending]]</span></div></center> <<timed 5s>><<goto "unpossessedending">><</timed>>

When you open your eyes again, Panrachus and Saleneon are standing over you, dashing water across your face. "<<c firstname>>! Are you awake? Wake up!" You sit up with one last gasp, sucking in great gulps of air. A set of hands thump you on the back as you cough and wheeze—<i>where are you?</i> you wonder;<i> is any of this real?</i>—before a pair of strong arms encircles you and spins you up. "You did it, <<c firstname>>!" Red shouts. "You killed it—it's gone—Quiial is <i>gone</i>!" Abruptly, he deposits you back to your feet, as if realizing what he's doing; but when he meets your eye and grins, the look is unabashed. "You're a godsdamn hero!" Pan and Neon are grinning, too. You're back in your own world, it seems, back in the classroom with the World Ark and the sun just peeking over the horizon outside. Ayla, Chase, and Blade are in various states of recovery around the room, looking dazed and shaken by the journey—but overall healthy and whole. Golden dust motes dance in the window in blurry streams. You can hear the chirping of birds outside. "I can feel it," Pan announces, looking proud—as if he had anything to do with this. "The Faceless Lord—I can literally <i>feel</i> it gone!" Neon smiles tentatively at you. "<<c firstname>> rid us of it," he says, more quietly. "Just like I knew $she would." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Clutch your head. You\'re afraid this is still a dream...' 'clutchheaddoneafraiddream'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Look around. "Is everyone all right?"' 'lookaroundiseveryallrightdone'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Smile uncertainly. "I... killed it?"' 'smileuncertainlyikilleditdone'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Grin in relief. "We all did it."' 'grininreliefdoneqs'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Blade rises to his feet and catches your elbow. He also looks slightly wary, but he says to you quietly: "I think we're back. Things here feel… different." He smiles at you, ever-so-faintly. "I'm not usually one to be the optimist, but… I think we did it." <<include "unpossessedendingi">>

"Fine," Chase says from the floor. He bounces to his feet, looks briefly like he regrets it, then slings an arm around your shoulders. "You all right, <<c firstname>>?" You do a mental check of your own body. All your limbs and organs are there and in their proper place. You check in with Ayla, who looks nauseous but otherwise seems fine, and Blade, who looks around warily as if he still expects Quiial to jump out at you. He catches your eye and nods slightly in acknowledgment. <<include "unpossessedendingi">>

"Don't you feel it?" Ayla asks you from the ground. She clambers to her feet, looking a little green but otherwise no worse for the wear. "How light the air is now? That thing is dead, thanks to you." She frowns in a way that almost might be a smile. "We're all back and free." <<include "unpossessedendingi">>

"None of us could have made it out of there on our own," you tell him. You look around as Ayla staggers over to you, looking a little green but otherwise no worse for the wear. "We all helped destroy the demon." "Pshaw," Chase says weakly from the ground. He bounces to his feet, looks briefly like he regrets it, then slings an arm around your shoulders. "It was you who broke out of your nightmare first, <<c firstname>>. You're the champion of the day. You killed that thing dead!" Blade is also rising from the floor, dusting himself off with dignity, his brow furrowed as he looks warily around at the classroom. He doesn't look like he fully trusts that you're back home, but then he catches your eye and then slowly, hesitantly nods. His mouth even slightly relaxes into something like a smile. It's faint, but it's there. <<include "unpossessedendingi">>

Pan and Neon are impatient for news. "What happened in the Phantom Shore? What did you do? How did you face down Quiial?" As you wait for your bodies to recover from your otherworldly journey, you haltingly recount your experiences in the Faceless Lord's nightmare world. Pan and Neon, in turn, tell you that you were only in the Phantom Shore for a few hours—but already it all seems like it happened years ago. In fact, you find yourself struggling to hold onto the memories as you retell them. You remember the battle with the demon easily enough, but what took place before that is already starting to fade in the clear light of day, exactly like a dream. What nightmare did you experience when you first arrived? Who did you save first? What did you go through before reaching the Faceless Lord? Already it's slipping through your mind like water through a sieve… the more you try to cling to the fragments of memory, the more they fade away. Red groans as he regards the World Ark, which now lies smoking and inert after your journey back. "Well," he sighs, running a hand through his vibrant hair. "I suppose I'll have to wait another ten years to use it again." Then he grins over his shoulder at you. "…But that doesn't mean I can't study how it works in the meantime." "Forget that for now," Chase quips, putting his hands on his hips. "How's about a hero's breakfast? I'm <i>famished</i>." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "unpossessedendingii">><</link>></center>

The next several hours are spent debriefing everyone again, recounting and reaffirming what happened to each other, though this proves difficult when you discover many of your memories are now piecemeal and disappearing fast. This doesn't seem to bother Neon and Panrachus, though, who simply nod and take you at your word. Red dispatches a messenger to check on the innkeeper in town, as well as the state of Capra in general, and the Shifter Mage he sends confirms it: the townspeople who had fallen into comas all simultaneously woke up upon Quiial's demise, weak and hungry but otherwise seemingly-unaffected. Capra is now in a state of celebration. You eat with the rest of the Mages in the dining hall after the news spreads about the Faceless Lord's destruction. There are about one hundred of them gathered here; they'd been preparing all night to evacuate the academy, and the news that they might not have to leave incites an atmosphere close to holiday-like in the warm dining hall. Shining and hopeful faces greet you constantly, thanking you and clasping your hands; Chase basks in the attention, while Blade and Ayla look downright uncomfortable with it. But you are all—slowly, tentatively—beginning to feel happy and relieved after your night of terror. At one point, Saleneon, exhausted from the long night's vigil, falls asleep at the breakfast table as you all cram down eggs and bacon… but then his hand slips off of his chin, and he startles himself awake. With no nightmares, no eternal slumber. That's when you all begin to laugh, seeing him blink owlishly from beneath his helmet. Quiial, it seems, is truly gone for good. And now the Mages and Capra are free. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "unpossessedendingiii">><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<if $quiialdead is true>><<achieve "achieve_nightmare">><<notify_achievement "The Third Faceless Lord" "Destroyed Quiial the Dream-Eater and freed the Mages and the city of Capra.">><</if>><</nobr>> You try and sleep after that, <<nobr>><<if $education is "Circle-trained">> taking up your old quarters in the southwestern dormitory: your rooms have remained untouched since you left the Circle. <<else>> taking up an unused room in the southwestern dormitory, a sparsely-furnished place but clean. <</if>><</nobr>> You are bone-tired, but somehow your mind whirs still with thought. You keep getting flashes, impressions of your time in the Phantom Shore… but you actually remember very little of it. Still, it still has its effects on you. You find that you can't sleep, staring up at the brightening ceiling, sometimes feeling as if something is watching you from the dark corners of the room. There's a staring, haunted feeling pinned between your shoulder blades, lurking at the back of your mind. More frustrating is the fact that you can't remember exactly why you feel this way. It's as if you've been jolted awake from a terrifying nightmare and can't get yourself to calm down afterwards. It comes as a relief when someone knocks on your door. You open it and find Blade, Chase,<<nobr>><<if $ayla gte 40>> Ayla, <</if>><</nobr>> and Red standing there, looking tired, haggard, and disheveled, dark marks under their eyes. "None of us can sleep," Red mumbles <<nobr>><<if $ayla gte 40>> as Ayla shoves past you to make herself at home on your bed. <<else>> as Chase slinks past you to make himself at home on your bed. <</if>><</nobr>> Blade meets your gaze. "I can't get what Quiial said out of my head," he admits, folding his arms. "About Tapyt, about their plans for Blest. Can we discuss it?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Not now. I want to rest."' 'notnowiwanttorestending'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Open the door wider. "Come in."' 'openthedoorwiderendingcomein'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Blade frowns, <<nobr>><<if $ayla gte 40>> Ayla scowls, <</if>><</nobr>> and Red looks disappointed. "If you say so," Chase says with a shrug, turning away. You shut your door as the others leave, and climb back into your bed, tracing the progression of shadow and light on the ceiling until your brain can't distinguish between them anymore… And eventually, pushed to your limit, you finally begin to slide into dreamless, blissful sleep... <<include "endchapter3">>

"Thanks, $nickname," Chase declares, sinking down to sit with his back against your old bed frame. Blade silently takes up position by the window, and Red sinks down into the old stuffed reading chair in the corner. "We won't be long. Just need to debrief more." Of course, none of this is true, <<nobr>><<if $ayla gte 40>> as Ayla falls asleep instantly at the foot of your bed, <<else>> as Chase falls asleep instantly at the foot of your bed, <</if>><</nobr>> and Red's head sinks back against the armchair. Warm in the company and silence of the room, his eyelids slowly shut, and even Blade's head tips against the wall as he dozes. You crawl into their midst and finally fall into the warm embrace of true and dreamless sleep... <<include "endchapter3">>

<<nobr>><<achieve "achieve_possessed">><<notify_achievement "The Stuff of Nightmares" "Became possessed by the Nightmare Demon, Quiial.">><<set $possessed to true>><<set $quiialdead to true>><<set $halek to 0>><<set $halekstatus to "He doesn't seem to fully trust you, for some reason.">><</nobr>>When you open your eyes, Panrachus and Saleneon are standing over you, dashing water across your face. You sit up with the gasp of a near-drowner. A set of hands thump you on the back as you cough and wheeze for air—<i>where are you?</i> you wonder; <i>is any of this real?</i>—before a pair of strong arms encircles you and spins you up. "You did it, <<c firstname>>!" Red shouts. "You killed it—it's gone—Quiial is <i>gone</i>!" Abruptly, he deposits you back to your feet, as if realizing what he's doing; but when he meets your eye and grins, the look is unabashed. "You're a godsdamn hero!" You hold a hand to your spinning head. "I… am?" "Yes!" He turns to the others: Blade, Chase, and Ayla all seem to be getting their bearings as well, Ayla looking pale and shaken, Chase dazed and Blade wary and confused. "Wasn't that fight incredible? I've never seen anything like it in my life." You try and think hard about the events that have just transpired. The sun outside is just beginning to peek over the horizon, which means you've probably been in the Phantom Shore for only a few hours—but already it all seems so far away. Yes, you think; yes, you're starting to cobble the picture together. Red took you all to the Phantom Shore… you met Quiial there, and after a long and grueling fight, you used a Word of Power against it and eradicated it… And now the Faceless Lord is gone. And with it, the nightmares that have been plaguing Capra and the Circle… …Right? You begin to smile as the images slowly begin seeping back. "We did it?" "<i>You</i> did it," Red corrects. Suddenly he's grinning again, running over to his World Ark to check it. "And that was an incredible thing—the first worldwalking venture in a millennium—I need paper—need to write things down—" "Uh, Red?" Pan asks, indicating Blade, Chase, and Ayla, who are slowly clambering to their feet. "Maybe that should wait for another time?" Red blinks. "Oh. Right." The next hour is a lot of recuperating and debriefing; the others remember the same thing as you do, though it takes them some time to recover the piecemeal memories. The trip between worlds is hard one, strenuous on both the body and mind. Ayla is sick three times within the first hour back, as is Red and eventually yourself: oddly, the journey seems to have had a strange effect on the Mages alone. At one point, Saleneon, exhausted from the long night's vigil, falls asleep at the breakfast table as you all cram down eggs and bacon… but then his hand slips off of his chin, and he startles himself awake. That's when you all begin to laugh, seeing him blink owlishly from beneath his helmet. Quiial, it seems, is truly gone for good. And now the Mages are free. <<include "endchapter3">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "demoend3i">><</link>></center>

This is the end of the public demo (version 1.0.1). If you'd like to leave feedback or discuss this content, or follow the game's development, please join the <i>Shepherds of Haven</i> community at any of the links below! * <a href="https://www.shepherdsofhaven.com/">Development Blog</a> * <a href="https://www.patreon.com/rinari">Patreon</a> * <a href="https://discord.gg/NvMwa8X">Discord</a> Please also note that you can import your save file from this public demo into the full version of the game, continuing on from this point once you purchase and download the paid version. Simply click the button below, make a save on that screen (downloading and saving directly to your device is best), and then upload the save file into your purchased copy of the full game. <center><<button 'Make a Save'>><<goto "endchapter3screen1">><</button>></center>

<<page_break "..." "endchapter3screen1">>

<div class="box"><span class="endchaptersummary"> <center><span class="heading">Chapter Summary</span></center> <br> <span class="bulleticon"><span class="fas fa-chevron-right"></span></span>&emsp; After hearing that the Hunters of the Reach have seemingly disappeared, you, Blade, and Chase set off on a journey to Uth Baryd, their capital city. <br><br><span class="bulleticon"><span class="fas fa-chevron-right"></span></span>&emsp; Plagued by nightmares, you were confronted with a choice to tell the Shepherds the truth about your mysterious powers—and your dark past—or deal with your demons yourself. <<if $shepherdsknow is true>> You chose to be upfront about the mysteries surrounding you. <<else>> You chose to guard your secrets closely. <</if>> <br><br><span class="bulleticon"><span class="fas fa-chevron-right"></span></span>&emsp; A snowstorm led you to make a stop in Capra, a Mage city famous for its machinery and mass production of magical artifacts. There, you learned that the citizens of Capra were being terrorized by a "Specter": some kind of monster that fed on their dreams at night and trapped them in unending comas. <br><br><span class="bulleticon"><span class="fas fa-chevron-right"></span></span>&emsp; Your investigation led you to Ayla, a traveling Wind-Mage who owed a debt to the innkeeper you were staying with; <<if $education is "Circle-trained">> together, you went to Solhadur, your old school academy. There, you discovered that Red, <<if $redrelationship is "ex">> your ex-sweetheart, <<elseif $redrelationship is "friend">> your old friend, <<else>> your old school rival <</if>> and several other Mages were still in residence at the castle. Red informed you that the "Specter" was really the Faceless Lord Quiial, the Dream-Eater. <<else>> together, you went to Solhadur, where a hidden enclave of Mages was accused of creating the Specter. The leader of the Mages, Red, claimed that this was not true, and that the Specter was really the Faceless Lord Quiial, Eater of Dreams. <</if>> <br><br><span class="bulleticon"><span class="fas fa-chevron-right"></span></span>&emsp; In Quiial's metaphysical lair, the Phantom Shore, you were confronted with a terrible ordeal: your old village and childhood friend Zori claimed to have been trapped in the nightmare realm after you teleported them there with a Word of Power on your thirteenth birthday. <br><br><span class="bulleticon"><span class="fas fa-chevron-right"></span></span>&emsp; <<if $possessed is true>>Something terrible happened next, but you are not quite sure what. <<else>> However, after many struggles and trials, you finally broke out of your nightmares and confronted Quiial, the orchestrator of your torment. <<if $quiialdead is true>> Together with your companions, you killed it once and for all, freeing Capra and the Veiled Circle from its insidious influence. All affected citizens woke up from their long nightmare, and the city is once again free. <<else>> Together, you banished it once and for all, freeing Capra and the Veiled Circle from its insidious influence. All affected citizens woke up from their long nightmare. <</if>><</if>> </span><span class="endchaptersummary2"></span></div> <br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "endchapter3levelup">><<set $part to 4>><<set $health to 100>><<set $resources += 1>><<set $circlemagejoin to true>><<set $numberofshepherds += 2>><<if $possessed is false>><<setreputation +10>><</if>><</link>></center>

<<unset $sus>> <<unset $ask1>> <<unset $ask2>> <<unset $holdhands>> <<unset $hampered>> <<unset $strike>> <<unset $desire>> <div class="box"><span class="column-icon"><span class="endchaptericon"><i class="fas fa-coins"></i></span></span><span class="column-2"><span class="heading">Gold</span><br>You gained 100 deucalions as part of your Shepherd's pay.</span></div> <div class="box"><span class="column-icon"><span class="endchaptericon"><i class="fas fa-book-open"></i></span></span><span class="column-2"><span class="heading">Codex</span><br>A <span class="entrylink">[[codex|Documents]]</span> document has been updated: <b><i class="fas fa-book-dead"></i> <i>The Faceless Lords.</i></b></span></div> <div class="box"><span class="column-icon"><span class="endchaptericon"><i class="fas fa-heart"></i></span></span><span class="column-2"><span class="heading">Relationships</span><br>New companions have been added to your <span class="entrylink">[[relationships|Relationships]]</span> page.</span></div> <div class="box"><span class="column-icon"><span class="endchaptericon"><i class="fas fa-first-aid"></i></span></span><span class="column-2"><span class="heading">Health</span><br>Your health has been fully restored.</span></div> <<page_break "Proceed to Next Chapter" "startchapter4">>

<<nobr>> <<if settings.music is true>><<audio ":playing" fadeout>><<audio "renewal" volume 0.1 play>><</if>> <<fadein 10s>> <<fadeout 5s 8s>><div class="chapterlogo"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/logos/chaptercroplogo.png" alt="Shepherds of Haven"><center><span class="chapterglow">Chapter Four</span></center></div><</fadeout>> <</fadein>> <<set $greesearch to false>> <<set $lanternon to false>> <<set $dayofftime to 4>> <<set $ironhorn to false>> <<set $healertalk to false>> <<set $demontalk to false>> <<set $halektimer to 3>> <<set $traitee to "wits">> <<set $traitee2 to "courage">> <<set $lanternuse to false>> <<set $savemekduk to false>> <</nobr>> <<timed 13s>><<goto "chapter4begin">><</timed>><span class="next">[[Next|chapter4begin]]</span>

<span class="splash">Several Days Later</span><span class="splashblur"></span>You stay in Solhadur for over a sennight, recuperating from your journey into the Phantom Shore. You, Blade, Chase, Red, and Ayla have circuitous discussions about what you witnessed there—what you can remember of it, at least—and the five of you resolve to hunt down the remaining Faceless Lords with new fervor. "We know there are five of them," Red says, "and you've encountered <<nobr>><<if $encounteredblaphemel is true>> three so far. <<else>> two so far. <</if>><</nobr>> That should make ferreting out the others a bit easier." "But where do we start?" Chase asks, scratching his head. "They could be anywhere—maybe not even on this Continent!" <<nobr>><<if $possessed is false>> "It doesn't matter," Blade answers resolutely. "We'll hunt them down as Shepherds must. All we need to know is that we can't allow their plans to come to pass." <br><br> You all fall silent at that, remembering that dim vision of the world in ruins. <br><br> A part of you whispers, in a voice oily with doubt: <i>Quiial said we were already too late to stop it</i>. <br><br> But if any of the others remember that part, none of them say it. <<else>> No one quite knows what to say to that. <</if>><</nobr>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "begin4chapteri">><</link>></center>

To that end, Ayla, Red, and the Veiled Circle of Mages decide to join your cause. "If there are more of those <i>mutis</i> out there, I want to know about it," the Wind-Mage says firmly, eyeing Blade as if to challenge him into not letting her join. "I'm not about to let my fate rest in the hands of others, or let the world get destroyed while I sat back. Besides—I helped, didn't I? And you need more fighters." Chase glances wryly at Blade. "She's got a point, boss." Your commander's face is utterly unreadable: he has a strong poker face as always, giving nothing away of his thoughts. <<nobr>><<if $rank is "Captain">> "What do you think, Captain?" he asks you, suddenly reverting to formal language. "We've seen Aescar's abilities in action. Her elemental magic is unrefined, but has strong offensive and defensive capabilities. She can summon whole gusts of wind, choke the life from her enemies. And she has honed survival instincts and extensive knowledge of the land." <br><br> "I'm right here," Ayla grates out. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I say she joins. She\'s proved herself more than worthy."' 'isay4she'>><<setayla +10>><<set $aylaromanceflag += 1>><<set $aylastatus to "She's pleased that you made a show of faith in her.">><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'m not sure. I\'ll leave it up to you."' 'imnot4sure'>><<setayla -10>><<setblade -1>><<setcourage -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'m a little wary. She seems impulsive and not prone to following orders."' 'ima4little'>><<setayla -25>><<set $aylastatus to "She's not happy with you for failing to show faith in her when she wanted to join.">><</link>></li> <li><<link '"She shouldn\'t join. She\'s not Shepherd material."' 'sheshouldnt4join'>><<set $ayla to 0>><<set $aylahate to true>><<set $numberofhated += 1>><<set $aylastatus to "She despises you.">><</link>></li> </ul> <<else>> Then he stretches his hand out for Ayla to shake. "You didn't need to accompany us to the Phantom Shore," he says gravely, "but you volunteered your services anyway, and proved your fighting abilities. I say you are already worthy." <br><br> She shakes his hand, looking a little surprised. Then she says, sounding gruffly-pleased: "Good to be onboard." <br><br> <<include "begin4chapterii">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Ayla smiles at you in a brittle way, just briefly—like a flash of sun from between the clouds. Blade nods and stretches his hand out for Ayla to shake, apparently agreeing with you. "You didn't need to accompany us to the Phantom Shore," he says gravely, "but you volunteered your services anyway, and proved your fighting abilities. I say you are already worthy." She shakes his hand, looking a little surprised. Then she says, sounding gruffly-pleased: "Good to be onboard." <<include "begin4chapterii">>

Blade only needs another moment of consideration before he stretches his hand out for Ayla to shake. "You didn't need to accompany us to the Phantom Shore," he says gravely, "but you volunteered your services anyway, and proved your fighting abilities. I say you are already worthy." She shakes his hand, looking a little surprised. Then she says, sounding gruffly-pleased: "Good to be onboard." <<include "begin4chapterii">>

Ayla's eyes blaze with anger, but perhaps wisely, she bites her tongue, though she looks taut and furious. Perhaps noticing her ability to hold her silence, Blade glances at her sidelong and says, "You have something to say?" Ayla says nothing for a moment. Then, glaring at you in a snake-like manner, she says in a steady enough voice: "I take my orders from clients when I lead them around on tours well enough. And I was apprentice to a master who's long dead now, but he could attest I listened when I needed to. If you need a letter of reference, I can get you one." Blade considers that for a long moment. "We'll let you join," he says finally, "on a probationary status. If you cause any trouble in the ranks, you're out. Otherwise, we'd be glad to have you." Ayla rolls her eyes, but when she speaks again, she sounds gruffly pleased. "Nice to be onboard," is all she says. <<include "begin4chapterii">>

Ayla's eyes blaze with anger, but perhaps wisely, she bites her tongue, though she looks taut and furious. Perhaps noticing her ability to hold her silence, Blade glances at her sidelong and says, "You have something to say?" Ayla says nothing for a moment. Then, glaring at you in a snake-like fashion, she says in a somewhat steady (but vicious) tone: "I'm willing to bet you don't got many Mages. Every one counts. Especially if you've got demon lords running around." There's some more deliberation after that. Eventually Blade decides to put her on probationary recruitment, evaluating her performance at every turn. If she doesn't prove she's up to snuff, she'll be summarily ejected from the Order. "Glad to hear it," Ayla drawls, looking as if she already regrets joining up. She stands and shoves her way past you out of the room. <<include "begin4chapterii">>

<<achieve "achieve_ayla">><<notify_achievement "The Wind Blows <br> Where It May" "Recruited Ayla, the nomadic Wind-Mage.">> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "begin4chapteriii">><</link>></center>

The issue of Red and the Mages turns out to be rather more complicated. "I've talked it over with the rest of the Circle," Red begins one day as the five of you sit for a private meal in his workshop: a warmly-lit, cramped little space with a long worktable you can imagine him squinting over in the wee hours of the night. A cantankerous-looking <<nobr>><<if $education is "Circle-trained">> owl named Archimetius, who belonged to Archmage Tevanti, glares at you archly from a high perch before rotating his head away. <<else>> owl, who Red calls Archimetius, glares at you archly from a high perch before rotating his head away. <</if>><</nobr>> "And—if you'll have us—we'd like to join the Order of the Shepherds." <i>That</i> comes as a surprise to the rest of you. "I thought you were safe now," Chase says, cocking his head. "Now that the Nightmare Demon's gone, you don't have to move." Red winces. "That may be true on the supernatural front," he begins, "but there's still the fact that the rest of Capra blamed <i>us</i> for the 'Specter.' They were convinced that it was our experiments here that created it—and no matter how wrong that idea actually is, it's a dangerous one. People know we're here, and they already made the move to blame us for the first magical mishap they saw. Any wrong step could bring the Inquisitors down on our heads… so it's for the best that we still leave." He looks saddened. "Solhadur isn't safe for us anymore." Blade regards him coldly. "So you think the Shepherds would give you the safe harbor you seek?" Red looks back at him, steady. "Wouldn't they?" At Blade's thunderous look he adds: "The Shepherds are the only ones with the power to protect their own ranks from the Autarchy, aren't they? You alone hold the authority to sanction the use of magic—and other gifts—without fear of punishment or execution. You could clear us of any 'crime,' though we've really only transgressed by existing. Don't you agree that makes for a rather perfect equation?" The dark-haired Ket frowns. "We are not an orphanage," he says, "nor a charity, as much as we might like to be. We are a fighting force, a militia. We can't just take a hundred hungry mouths in and use our scant authority to shield them from the Autarch. Else we would be doing that for all the Diminished in Haven." "Many of us can fight," Red rebutts, "and those who can't now would be able to with proper weapons and training. The others still have abilities that would be very useful to the Order. Healing, research, divination, instruction, inventing new tools and weaponry, tracking down arcane objects, mysterious curses, Endarkened targets…" "Would they be willing to put in the work, though?" Blade challenges. "Would they be willing to bleed or even die for the Order? That's what we demand of all our Shepherds, all our recruits." He stares Red down. "That's the only way the system functions." Red doesn't bat an eye. "We'll swear our oaths… and the Circle Mages will keep to them. I'll make sure of it." Blade glances at you. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Nod eagerly. An entire faction of Mages in the Order? That changes everything.' 'begin4chapteriv'>><<setcunning +3>><<set $redstatus to "He holds you in high regard.">><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Nod confidently. You have all the faith in the world in Red.' 'begin4chapteriv'>><<setred +3>><<set $redstatus to "He holds you in the highest regard.">><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Shrug. You\'re ambivalent.' 'begin4chapteriv'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Shake your head. He needs to be cautious about this.' 'begin4chapteriv'>><<setred -3>><<setcompassionate -5>><<set $redstatus to "He noticed you don't seem to trust him.">><</link>></li> </ul>

"You're not really going to turn down a bunch of free Mages, are you?" Chase asks with a smirk. "Hael, if you won't take them, the Thieves Guild will have them!" "Fine," Blade says finally, abruptly, throwing an annoyed look at Chase. Red cocks his head. "To us joining the Shepherds, or us joining the Thieves Guild?" Blade glowers at him. "Join the Shepherds," he says. "We will shelter you in exchange for your recruitment." Red beams, and the two men reach out to clasp hands. "And may we have a long and fruitful partnership," he says. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "begin4chapterv">><<set $army += 10>><<set $circlemagejoin to true>><</link>></center>

<<achieve "achieve_red">><<notify_achievement "Roads Not Taken" "Recruited Red, leader of the Mages' Circle.">>And so the Mages of the Veiled Circle prepare, once again, to vacate their old home—only this time, it's to make the long journey back to Haven and the Shepherds' headquarters. It's decided that Ayla will journey with them, to save her from having to make the arduous trek to the snowy Reach. ("I'm a desert girl," she says with a shudder. "I've got no business up in the cold.") With all that was going on, you'd almost forgotten that you were ever meant to go there in the first place. "This has all been an interesting… diversion," Chase jokes. "Certainly the most eventful stopover I've ever made." It seems he, too, is going to be splitting off before you arrive at the Reach: his real intent all along seems to have been to check up on a branch of Thieves Guild in a nearby northern city, Sacor—though you only glean this from his vague and meandering references, not a direct notice of his intentions. Blade is unsurprised. "I always knew there was some other reason he was accompanying us," he intones flatly. "A rogue like him never tags along unless there's something in it for him." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "begin4chaptervi">><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<if settings.music is true>><<audio ":playing" fadeoverto 10 0>><</if>><</nobr>>Soon enough, in fact, you find that it's Chase's birthday—thankfully you have the opportunity to celebrate with him before he parts with you. Would you like to spend time with him? <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Yes.' 'chasebirthday'>><<setchase +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'No.' 'dayoff4'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Chase grins as you approach him. "I don't have a birthday," he quips. "I am an ageless being—I sprung up out of the earth fully-formed." You give him a look. "Do you really want to pass up a reason to celebrate yourself?" He laughs. "You know me well, $nickname." You spend a little time with him, walking along the battlements of Solhadur together. There's a small party in the courtyard, amidst the numerous crates and piled belongings of the Mages; Red, Saleneon, Pan, and Ayla are there, and even Blade is persuaded to join in on the merrymaking by Chase, who employs a heavy dose of guilt and charm in turns. At one point in the afternoon, you find yourselves alone for a moment as the others are preoccupied by a blindfolded game. This would be a good time to give Chase a gift… Will you give him something? <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Yes.' 'chasegift'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'No.' 'chasebdayfinish'>><</link>></li> </ul>

You'll give him… <ul class="choices"> <<if $tallysgift is true>><li><<link 'The potted plant.' 'plant4gift'>><<set $tallysgift to false>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $halekgift is true>><li><<link 'The cookbook.' 'cookbook4gift'>><<if $chaseread is true>><<setchase -1>><</if>><<set $halekgift to false>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $redgift is true>><li><<link 'The tome about other worlds.' 'tome4gift'>><<set $redgift to false>><<setchase -3>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $aylagift is true>><li><<link 'The map of Blest.' 'map4gift'>><<set $aylagift to false>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $rielgift is true>><li><<link 'The toolset.' 'toolset4gift'>><<setchase +1>><<set $rielgift to false>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $troublegift is true>><li><<link 'The model of the airship.' 'model4airship'>><<set $troublegift to false>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $bladegift is true>><li><<link 'The strange dagger.' 'dagger4gift'>><<setchase +3>><<set $bladegift to false>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $sherygift is true>><li><<link 'The heartshaped necklace.' 'necklace4gift'>><<set $sherygift to false>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $brionygift is true>><li><<link 'The painting set.' 'painting4gift'>><<set $brionygift to false>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $chasegift is true>><li><<link 'The flashy scarf.' 'flashy4gift'>><<setchase +10>><<set $chasegift to false>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $lavinetgift is true>><li><<link 'The ornate hairpin.' 'ornatepin4gift'>><<set $lavinetgift to false>><<setchase +1>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $falsegift is true>><li><<link 'The crystal orb.' 'crystalorb4gift'>><<set $falsegift to false>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $flowergift is true>><li><<link 'The bouquet of flowers.' 'bouquet4gift'>><<set $flowergift to false>><<setchase +1>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $gold gte 1>><li><<link 'Some money.' 'somemoney4gift'>><<setchase +1>><</link>></li><</if>> </ul>

Chase blinks at the frail plant—which you've somehow managed to haul all the way here—a little bemused but smiling. "Thanks, <<c firstname>>," he says, giving you a cheerful pat on the head. "I'll do my best not to kill it." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "chasebdayfinish">><</link>></center>

Chase's face gives nothing away as he politely accepts the book. "Thanks, <<c firstname>>," he says cheerfully. "I don't know how to cook worth a damn, so this will come in handy. The pictures are nice!" <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "chasebdayfinish">><</link>></center>

Chase looks decidedly unenthused as he accepts the book, but the polite smile stays on his face. "Thanks, <<c firstname>>," he says. "I'll, er, make sure to read this sometime." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "chasebdayfinish">><</link>></center>

Chase grins. "Thanks, <<c firstname>>," he says, looking down at the map with interest. "This'll come in handy if I ever get lost." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "chasebdayfinish">><</link>></center>

Chase beams, looking down at the toolset with interest. "Thanks, <<c firstname>>," he says, genuinely excited. "This'll come in handy—see that? That's great for lockpicking. Oh, and <i>that</i>—marvelous for safes." You smile. "Happy birthday, Chase." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "chasebdayfinish">><</link>></center>

Chase laughs. "What a toy," he says with delight, holding it up to the light. "Thanks, <<c firstname>>." He winks at you. "Here's hoping we can go on a joyride in one of these someday." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "chasebdayfinish">><</link>></center>

Chase's eyes widen and turn shiny with excitement. He whistles and twirls the dagger in the air, deftly catching it by the hilt. "Damn, thanks, <<c firstname>>," he says with a distinctly-rogueish grin. "What a great gift! I'll definitely think of you the next time I cut someone's throat open." Then he winks at you. "Just kidding." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "chasebdayfinish">><</link>></center>

Chase smiles. "Shiny. I like it." He slings the necklace around his neck. "Thanks, gorgeous." He winks at you. "I'll be sure to wear this always and think of you." <<include "chasebdayfinish">>

Chase looks blank. "Oh," he says, taking the painting set with a polite smile. "Thanks, <<c firstname>>. I'll, uh, paint something for you for your birthday." <<include "chasebdayfinish">>

Chase's eyes go wide and shiny; he beams. "Thanks, <<c firstname>>!" he exclaims, throwing the scarf around his neck. "I <i>love</i> flair like this. Do I look handsome? No, don't answer—I can already see your answer in your eyes." He does a twirl, showing off his new scarf, before he <<nobr>><<if $chaseromanceflag gte 8>> grabs you and kisses you on the cheek. <<else>> slings his arm around your shoulder affectionately. <</if>><</nobr>> "Thanks. I love it." You smile. "Happy birthday, Chase." <<include "chasebdayfinish">>

Chase beams, admiring the hairpin. "Pretty," he says, holding it up to the light. "Thanks, <<c firstname>>." <<include "chasebdayfinish">>

Chase raises his eyebrows. "Whoa," he says, juggling the orb into the air. Then he pretends to drop it, spinning it deftly on his finger. "Thanks, <<c firstname>>. I don't know what this is for, but I'm sure I can find some use for it. Maybe I'll invent a new game. Brain some Endarkened with it, maybe?" He winks at you. "At least I don't need it to tell me that our future together is going to be bright. I already know that." <<include "chasebdayfinish">>

Chase beams, accepting the flowers and giving them a dramatic whiff. "Thanks, <<c firstname>>," he says with a grin. He winks. "Flowers for a paramour? Color me intrigued." <<include "chasebdayfinish">>

Chase blinks, then laughs a little, waving your offer of money away. "Thanks, $nickname," he says. "I guess it makes sense that you'd want to give money to a thief-lord—but your company is more precious to me than gold." He grins impishly at you. "I like the way you think, though." <<include "chasebdayfinish">>

You spent some time with Chase on his birthday! <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "dayoff4">><</link>></center>

<<set $capradayoff to true>>On the last day before the Mages leave Solhadur for good, an air of festivity descends on the old castle, perhaps to counter any sense of melancholy or loss that comes with the departure. The evening will bring All Heroes Eve, a fall holiday dedicated to celebrating heroes, champions, and iconic figures of the past. Capra—and most other major cities—will hold a masked carnival to celebrate the occasion, and citizens (both children and adults) will dress as their favorite heroes in order to invoke their spirits and honor their lives. Although many Diminished heroes have been erased from the canon by the Autarchy, no one particularly enforces this—at least, not all the way in Capra. During the day, you're free to enjoy your last bit of leisure before resuming your journey to the Reach. <<include "dayoff42">>

<<nobr>><<if $dayofftime lte 0>> <<include "orange4sun">> <<elseif $dayofftime is 4>> You estimate you have time for four more activities. <<include "dayoff4activity">> <<elseif $dayofftime is 3>> You estimate you have time for three more activities. <<include "dayoff4activity">> <<elseif $dayofftime is 2>> You estimate you have time for two more activities. <<include "dayoff4activity">> <<elseif $dayofftime is 1>> You estimate you have time for one more activity. <<include "dayoff4activity">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<ul class="choices"> <<link '<div class="companion-item">Spend time with a companion.</div>' 'spendtime4withcompanion'>><</link>> <<if not hasVisited("dosome4strength")>><<link '<div class="strength-item">Do some strength and weapons training.</div>' 'dosome4strength'>><<setstrength +10>><<if $mainweapon is "sword">><<setsword +3>><<elseif $mainweapon is "dagger">><<setdagger +3>><<elseif $mainweapon is "bow">><<setbow +3>><<elseif $mainweapon is "gun">><<setgun +3>><</if>><<set $dayofftime -= 1>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("study4magic")>><<link '<div class="magic-item">Study magic and spell-casting.</div>' 'study4magic'>><<setmagic +10>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("takea4moment")>><<link '<div class="pray-item">Take a moment to pray.</div>' 'takea4moment'>><<setfaith +10>><<set $dayofftime -= 1>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("sho4p")>><<link '<div class="shopping-item">Shop.</div>' 'sho4p'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="rest-item">Rest until the evening.</div>' 'orange4sun'>><</link>> </ul>

You decide to seek out… <ul class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("blade4spend")>><li><<link 'Blade.' 'blade4spend'>><<if $bladetime is 3>><<setblade +3>><<set $dayofftime -= 1>><</if>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("chase4spend")>><li><<link 'Chase.' 'chase4spend'>><<if $chasetime is 1>><<setchase +3>><<set $dayofftime -= 1>><</if>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("red4spend")>><li><<link 'Red.' 'red4spend'>><<set $dayofftime -= 1>><<setred +3>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("ayla4spend")>><li><<link 'Ayla.' 'ayla4spend'>><<set $dayofftime -= 1>><<setayla +3>><</link>></li><</if>> </ul>

<<nobr>><<if $bladetime is not 3>> However, Blade is currently too busy preparing for the Mages' mass transfer to spend time with you at the moment! <br><br> You decide to give up looking and do something else. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "dayoff42">><</link>></center> <<else>> <<include "blade">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $chasetime is not 1>> Unfortunately, you can't find Chase anywhere, no matter how hard you look! <br><br> You decide to give up looking and do something else. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "dayoff42">><</link>></center> <<else>> <<include "chase">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<include "red">>

<<include "ayla">>

<<if settings.notifications is true>><<notify 5s>><span class="fas fa-fist-raised"></span> Physique Increased!<</notify>><</if>>You head to the small gymnasium and training grounds in a side courtyard of the castle. The place is deserted, and you spend some time lifting weights, doing laps, and training with your weaponry before you decide it's time to take a break. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "dayoff42">><</link>></center>

<<if settings.notifications is true>><<notify 5s>><span class="fas fa-hand-sparkles"></span> Magic Increased!<</notify>><</if>>You head over to the private study rooms, which are reserved for Mages who want to practice their arts or study one of the arcane tomes that haven't been packed away yet. Which specific school of magic do you want to train in? /* use fair math or straight +10 integer here? Or get rid of it entirely? */ <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Psionic magic.' 'youspend4several'>><<setpsionic +10>><<set $dayofftime -= 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Astral magic.' 'youspend4several'>><<setastral +10>><<set $dayofftime -= 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Arcane magic.' 'youspend4several'>><<setarcane +10>><<set $dayofftime -= 1>><</link>></li> </ul>

You spend several hours lost in the pages of ancient spellbooks, practicing new techniques and outlining forms in lyme and chalk. There has been so much knowledge lost to time… After a long while, your eyes begin to smart, so you decide it's time to take a break and do something else. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "dayoff42">><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<set $temple to "">>You wander over to the castle's private <<cycle "$temple" autoselect>> <<option "temple to practice your worship of the Old Faith.">> <<option "chapel to practice your worship of the New Church.">> <</cycle>> <br><br> <<if $temple is "temple to practice your worship of the Old Faith.">><center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "temple4worship">><<set $belief to "oldfaith">><</link>></center> <<else>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "chapel4worship">><<set $belief to "one-god">><</link>></center> <</if>> <</nobr>>

Here, away from the eyes of the Autarchy, Mage students are free to worship and practice the Old Faith. You find a large barrel of many worn, clinking coins and spend a long time in contemplation of the pantheon of idols here. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "dayoff42">><</link>></center>

An outsider might find it surprising that Mages would worship the One-God, but there were many such students who needed a place to pray. You kneel before the worn, smiling statue of the One-God and pray for a long, long time. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "dayoff42">><</link>></center>

<<nobr>> <<if $shopvisit is 0>> Unfortunately, you don't have enough experiencing in trading and shopping, and you wander around without finding a single stall that's still open. Eventually, you give up and turn back to Solhadur. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "dayoff42">><</link>></center> <<else>> You meander down into downtown Capra to pick up some supplies before your journey resumes. Many of the usual shops and stalls are closed in preparation for the night's festivities, but you do find one dour-faced merchant still selling his wares. <br><br> You have to admit, it feels a bit strange to be doing this without a certain painted clown hopping around and shouting at you. <br><br> The merchant, a pot-bellied Norm, eyes you beadily and spits. <<nobr>><<if $goggles is true>> "What you looking at, stranger?" Thanks to your dark goggles, he hasn't seemed to notice that you're a Mage. <<else>> "What you looking at, Diminished?" <</if>><</nobr>> <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Sigh. "I miss Chandry."' 'sighi4misschandry'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Nothing. Just relieved. That you\'re... uh... normal."' 'nothing4justrelieved'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Stare him down. "That any way to talk to a customer?"' 'stare4himdown'>><<setcourage +1>><<setcompassionate -3>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Shake your head and turn to business.' 'wares'>><</link>></li> </ul> <</if>><</nobr>>

"Huh?" "Nothing. Never mind." <<include "wares">>

<<nobr>><<if $compassionate gte 50>> The man snorts. "You ain't bought nothing yet." <br><br> <<include "wares">> <<else>> The man pauses, then seems to back down. "Sorry," he mutters, averting his eyes. <br><br> <<include "wares">> <</if>><</nobr>>

You turn to examine the man's wares, which are scant and have been picked over by earlier shoppers. Just some medicinal packets of salve, a wiry length of rope, a small lantern, and a lockpicking set remain on the surface of the scarred table… Then you do a triple-take and feel your eyes threatening to pop out of your head. These prices are exorbitant! <i>Thirty deucalions</i> for a piece of rope?! <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Confront the merchant. "These prices are ridiculous! You can\'t be serious."' 'confront4merchant'>><<setcourage +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Make a joke about it. "For those prices, I hope that rope\'s woven from the Autarch\'s hair. ...Not that she has any, obviously."' 'makea4joke'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Ask him civilly. "Mind telling me why these prices are so high?"' 'askhim4civilly'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Attempt to haggle mercilessly. "You obviously want someone to take these off your hands. I\'ll give you twenty deucalions for the whole lot."' 'attemptto4haggle'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Walk away. You\'re not going to bother with this.' 'walkaway4youre'>><</link>></li> </ul>

He blinks slowly. "Either buy or don't buy," he says, unperturbed. "The choice is yours." <<page_break "Shop" "4shop">>

The merchant fails to crack a smile. (Chandry would have given you a discount just for that zinger.) "Rope's hard to come by," he says slowly. "Either buy or don't buy, the choice is yours." <<page_break "Shop" "4shop">>

He blinks slowly. "You see anyone else selling?" He's right. The entire street is empty, and the city is essentially closed for the day. He's taking advantage by selling on a holiday, and at a steep upcharge. <<page_break "Shop" "4shop">>

He grunts. "Nothin' doin'. Full price or not at all. The choice is yours." Well, damn. <<page_break "Shop" "4shop">>

You return to Solhadur. <<include "dayoff42">>

<<set $caprashopTabsData to { items: { tabKey: "items", tabName: "ITEMS", items: [ {itemTag: "healthpotion", isConsumable: true, setVariablesWhenBoughtTo: [{varName: "healthpotion", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}, {varName: "healthpotionnumber", varType: "int", setValue: $healthpotionnumber, addAmount: 1}], name: "HEALTH PACKET", desc: "SACHETS FILLED WITH HEALING MEDICINAL HERBS. THEY LOOK A BIT OLD, BUT THEY\'LL DO THE TRICK.", hasIcon: false, goldCost: 30, discountRate: 0, extraDesc: "The shopkeeper eyes you up and down. \"Just the one?\"", onBuyMessage: "He hands you the salve. \"Here you go.\""}, {itemTag: "lantern", hideItem: $lantern is true, setVariablesWhenBoughtTo: [{varName: "lantern", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}], name: "CHIPPED TRAVEL LANTERN", desc: "A SMALL, PORTABLE LAMP. IDEAL FOR CAVES AND RUINS.", hasIcon: false, goldCost: 30, discountRate: 0, extraDesc: "\"That\'ll be thirty gold.\"", onBuyMessage: "The man hands over the lantern in silence. You notice that the wick hasn\'t even been trimmed!"}, {itemTag: "rope", hideItem: $rope is true, setVariablesWhenBoughtTo: [{varName: "rope", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}], name: "TATTERED ROPE", desc: "A PLAIN CORD OF ROPE. DESPITE ITS FRAYED ENDS, IT\'S PLENTY STURDY.", hasIcon: false, goldCost: 30, discountRate: 0, extraDesc: "\"That\'ll be thirty gold.\"", onBuyMessage: "The man passes you the length of rope without comment."}, {itemTag: "lockpick", hideItem: $lockpick is true, setVariablesWhenBoughtTo: [{varName: "lockpick", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}], name: "LOCKPICKING SET", desc: "A BASIC, COMPACT TOOLSET FOR OPENING DOORS AND SIMPLE LOCKS.", hasIcon: false, goldCost: 30, discountRate: 0, extraDesc: "If he wonders why you\'d want this, the merchant doesn\'t ask.", onBuyMessage: "The man slides over the lockpicking set, which has a rusted latch."}, ], }, }>> <<inventory_holder $caprashopTabsData "shop_holder fit-to-passages-holder">>

You're about to turn away when a previously-unnoticed shelf to the side catches your eye. It's stuffed full of souvenirs themed after the city of Capra. Noticing your look, the merchant says, "Since it's a holiday, I'll give you one of these for a discount." ...His proposed "discount" still overshoots most merchants' prices by a long shot, but you consider the shelf of souvenirs. This could be your chance to snag a memento of your time here... You pick… <ul class="choices"> <<if $gold gte 50>><<link '<div class="money-item">...the miniature model of the city, small enough to sit on your thumb. It\'s cute <i>and</i> educational. <b>[50 DEUCALIONS]</b> </div>' 'miniature4model'>><<setgold -50>><<set $caprasouvenir to "Tiny Replica of Capra">><<set $caprasouvie to true>><</link>><<else>><<disabled "...the miniature model of the city, small enough to sit on your thumb. It\'s cute <i>and</i> educational.">><</if>> <<if $gold gte 50>><<link '<div class="money-item">...the decorative pocketwatch made in the Capra fashion. It\'s made of cheap materials, but functions well. <b>[50 DEUCALIONS]</b></div>' 'thedecorative4watch'>><<setgold -50>><<set $caprasouvenir to "A Souvenir Pocketwatch from Capra">><<set $caprasouvie to true>><</link>><<else>><<disabled "...the decorative pocketwatch made in the Capra fashion. It\'s made of cheap materials, but functions well.">><</if>> <<if $gold gte 50>><<link '<div class="money-item">...the woodblock print of The Twins, Capra and Caprona\'s legendary founders. It\'s colorful and eye-pleasing, if a bit fragile. <b>[50 DEUCALIONS]</b></div>' 'woodblock4print'>><<setgold -50>><<set $caprasouvenir to "A Woodblock Print of Capra and Caprona's Founding Twins">><<set $caprasouvie to true>><</link>><<else>><<disabled "...the woodblock print of The Twins, Capra and Caprona\'s legendary founders. It\'s colorful and eye-pleasing, if a bit fragile.">><</if>> <<if $gold gte 30>><<link '<div class="money-item">...the cluster of Emperor Hydrangea, a rare local flower that changes color depending on the ambient magic in the air. <b>[30 DEUCALIONS]</b> </div>' 'thedried4cluster'>><<setgold -30>><<set $caprasouvenir to "Cluster of Emperor Hydrangeas from Capra">><<set $caprasouvie to true>><<set $flowercollection += 1>><</link>><<else>><<disabled "...the cluster of Emperor Hydrangea, a rare local flower that changes color depending on the ambient magic in the air.">><</if>> <li><<link 'Nothing. These are all crap.' 'youre4donehere2'>><</link>></li> </ul>

The man grunts and wraps the little model in paper before thrusting it at you. "Here." <<page_break "Next" "youre4donehere2">>

The man grunts and thrusts the pocketwatch dangling on its thin chain towards you. "Here." <<page_break "Next" "youre4donehere2">>

The man grunts and hands you the print, rolling it up roughly. "Here." <<page_break "Next" "youre4donehere2">>

The man grunts and thrusts the handful of pale, gradient flowers at you. "Here." <<page_break "Next" "youre4donehere2">>

"Happy All Heroes Eve," the merchant says as you turn away. It's half an indifferent grumble, half smug. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Nod at the man in thanks and take your leave.' 'youreturn4to'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Turn away and mutter, "Highway robbery..."' 'youreturn4to'>><<setcourage +1>><<setcompassionate -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Shoot him a filthy look and stalk off.' 'youreturn4to'>><<setcompassionate -2>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Thank him politely and wish him a good Heroes Eve.' 'youreturn4to'>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

You return to Solhadur. <<include "dayoff42">>

The orange sun sinks beneath the black line of the horizon, and the castle comes alive with preparations for the night's events. You have no more free time to spend. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "allheroesday">><<set $capradayoff to false>><</link>></center>

The evening brings the beginning of the carnival, and many of the Circle's Mages descend on Capra to join in on the merriment, safely concealed by their heroes' costumes and masks. Do you join them, or rest early to be prepared for departure in the morning? <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Celebrate All Heroes Eve.' 'allheroeseve'>><<setloyal +5>><<setcharisma +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Stay in.' 'stayin'>><<setintelligence +3>><<setloyal -5>><</link>></li> </ul>

You have a restful evening back in the castle, content to drift off to the sounds of distant cheers and fireworks… <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "departurei">><</link>></center>

<<set $maskmask to true>>To attend the carnival, you'll need to dress up as your favorite hero of the past. You dress up as… <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Valeria Ravenstar, an Elven queen who led her people in the Dawn Wars.' 'youselect4ensemble'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Thrar the Iron-bound, an infamous Hunter who slew the most Endarkened on record during his career.' 'youselect4ensemble'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Ambriodhe, a Norm knight and King\'s Rider who was renowned for her courage and chivalry.' 'youselect4ensemble'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Finncayra the Moonlit, a Mage who pulled down a mountain range on top of an invading army.' 'youselect4ensemble'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Jermayan Brokenblade, who was said to be one of the last of the Dragonriders.' 'youselect4ensemble'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Serenè Sardet, a cunning diplomat and tactician who famously conquered any foreign court they were sent to.' 'youselect4ensemble'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Thayet, a Changeling who snuck into an enemy camp and slew its despot the night before a great battle.' 'youselect4ensemble'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Gyir Storm-Lantern, a Ket-Mage who sailed a flaming ship across the Mirror Sea to explore the mysterious Southern Continent.' 'youselect4ensemble'>><</link>></li> </ul>

You select an ensemble that approximates the known outfit of your hero as well as a mask—one of many that Saleneon has fashioned for the occasion—that embodies their essence and spirit, choosing… <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '...a snow leopard mask.' 'redgrins4waves'>><<set $mask to "leopard">><</link>></li> <li><<link '...a lion mask.' 'redgrins4waves'>><<set $mask to "lion">><</link>></li> <li><<link '...a wolf mask.' 'redgrins4waves'>><<set $mask to "wolf">><</link>></li> <li><<link '...a hyena mask.' 'redgrins4waves'>><<set $mask to "hyena">><</link>></li> <li><<link '...a boar mask.' 'redgrins4waves'>><<set $mask to "boar">><</link>></li> <li><<link '...a horse mask.' 'redgrins4waves'>><<set $mask to "horse">><</link>></li> <li><<link '...a rabbit mask.' 'redgrins4waves'>><<set $mask to "rabbit">><</link>></li> <li><<link '...an owl mask.' 'redgrins4waves'>><<set $mask to "owl">><</link>></li> <li><<link '...a peacock mask.' 'redgrins4waves'>><<set $mask to "peacock">><</link>></li> <li><<link '...a dragon mask.' 'redgrins4waves'>><<set $mask to "dragon">><</link>></li> <li><<link '...an orchid mask.' 'redgrins4waves'>><<set $mask to "orchid">><</link>></li> <li><<link '...something else...' 'something4maskelse'>><</link>></li> </ul>

You choose a <<textbox "$mask" "">> mask... <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>'>><<if $mask is "">><<script>> Dialog.setup("Error"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("blankmask").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>><<else>><<goto "redgrins4waves">><</if>><</link>></center>

Please choose a mask for your All Heroes Eve costume. Masks are usually themed after animals, plants, or occasionally symbols. <center><<button 'Return'>><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>></center>

Red grins and waves when he sees you descending the stairs in your $mask mask and costume. Aside from his vibrant red hair, you wouldn't be able to tell him from a stranger: his features are obscured behind a regal moonhawk mask, and he seems to be wearing an outfit similar to an Archmage of the past: Vadhe of the Black Robes. Behind him, Pan and Neon stand dressed as other famous Mages; Chase is dressed in some sort of pirate coat, a red and flashy affair, with the mask of a grinning fox; Ayla is dressed as the warrior Hraska the Brave with a ferocious bear mask; and even Blade is dressed all in black as some sort of Ket warrior, wearing an expressionless panther mask. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Wave back at Red. "Nice robes."' 'waveback4at'>><<setred +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Cock your head at Chase. "A pirate?"' 'cockyour4head'>><<setchase +1>><</link>></li> <<if $beltofcourage is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Point at Ayla. "I have her belt!"</div>' 'pointat4ayla'>><<setayla +1>><</link>><<else>><<disabled "Point at Ayla. \"I have her belt!\"">><</if>> <li><<link 'Look at Blade. "Who are you supposed to be?"' 'lookat4blade'>><<setblade +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Black robes were once reserved for the most powerful Mages in the world: only seven or so black robe Mages ever existed at one time. Red sighs and says, "I wish that tradition was still around. Still: at least this night gives me the chance to wear them and dream, right?" <<include "thegroup4of">>

You don't remember a pirate ever becoming a member of the Heroes' Canon. Chase grins cheekily and says, "Vasco, the Corsair King. Ruler of the three seas and terrorizer of ships, ports, and deserted isles alike." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"That sounds... decidedly unheroic."' 'thatsounds4decidedly'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Sounds dashing. It suits you."' 'sounds4dashing'>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You\'ve always got to be the sore thumb, haven\'t you?"' 'youvealways4got'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Yours sounds better. Switch costumes with me."' 'yourssounds4better'>><<setchase +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

He winks. "He doesn't have to be a hero to be <i>my</i> hero." <<include "thegroup4of">>

He grins, the look a little sharp. "Thank you kindly." <<include "thegroup4of">>

He bows. "Indeed I do." <<include "thegroup4of">>

He laughs. "No can do, $nickname," Chase says. "I thought of it first." <<include "thegroup4of">>

Ayla stares at you blankly. "I've never seen you wear it." "I usually wear it with my uniform," you tell her, looking down at your costume. "How do you know it's really hers?" You pause. "…Shery told me it belonged to her." Ayla sniffs, clearly skeptical. "Uh-huh." <<include "thegroup4of">>

He almost looks as if he's simply wearing his own armor. "His name was Ysk," the Ket answers calmly. "He was one of the greatest assassins who ever lived." "I've never heard of him." He smiles in a vaguely-morbid way. "He would have been poor at his job if you had." <<include "thegroup4of">>

<<nobr>><<if settings.music is true>><<audio "allheroeseve" volume 0 loop fadeoverto 10 0.07>><</if>><</nobr>> The group of you step out together and head down into Capra to celebrate the night, festooned in your colorful outfits and striking poses as festival-goers and dancers whirl past you. There are the warm smells of roast nuts, of sugar-warm custard tarts and caramelized honey and baking fruits; the lighter scents of dust and sweat and autumn winds. There is music, and laughter, and silly games in stalls and fire-breathers whooping and hollering as they tumble into the streets. You wile away the hours of All Heroes Eve, losing yourself in the fantasy of being someone else. <<nobr>><<if $redrelationship is "ex">> <<include "exconvo">> <<else>> <<include "departure">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "exconvoi">><<if $gold gt 0>><<setgold -1>><</if>><</link>></center>

<<if $gold gt 0>><<notify_gold "-1 gold">><</if>>At one point in the night, you take a break from the dancing and crowds, stepping off into a less-crowded town square and buying yourself a lemon ice. Despite the cool autumn night, you find yourself feeling hot under the layers of your hero's outfit. Suddenly you feel a presence at your side. You turn and find… <ul class="choices"> <<if $bladeromanceflag gte 10>><li><<link '...Blade, standing at your elbow.' 'bladestanding4at'>><<set $bladeromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $chaseromanceflag gte 7>><li><<link '...Chase, standing at your elbow.' 'chasestanding4at'>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $aylaromanceflag gte 5>><li><<link '...Ayla, standing at your elbow.' 'aylastanding4at'>><<set $aylaromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $redromanceflag gte 5>><li><<link '...Panrachus, standing at your elbow. He\'s pointing over at Red, who\'s looking quite tipsy as he tries to swap masks with Neon.' 'panrachus4standing'>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link '...a little girl you sort of recognize, standing at your elbow.' 'alittle4girl'>><</link>></li> </ul>

He leans close to your ear so that you can hear him over the din of the crowd. "I didn't want you to get lost in the crowd," he tells you. Automatically, his arm rises to easily deflecting a cavorting festival-goer from crashing directly into you, his hand hovering protectively over your back without touching it. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Smile at him and offer a sip of your drink.' 'smileat4him'>><<set $bladeromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I can take care of myself, you know!"' 'ican4take'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Don\'t lie; you\'re just using me as an excuse to get away from everyone being dumb and drunk."' 'dontlie4youre'>><<setblade +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Cautiously, almost as if he were expecting your lemon ice to bite him, he ducks his head to drink from the little cup. The light catches on his dark eyelashes, his aristocratic nose. Then he clears his throat and says stiffly: "It's sweet." "Sweet-good, or sweet-bad?" you ask, though you think you already know the answer: your serious commander doesn't seem the type to have a sweet tooth. Blade lifts his shoulder in an expressive shrug, though he smiles faintly. "I'm glad I tried it," he answers enigmatically. <<include "thetwo4of">>

His lips twitch. "I'm aware," he answers. "I can leave you alone, if you wish." You shake your head. "That's not what I meant." <<include "thetwo4of">>

He inclines his head gravely. "I find it difficult to resist arresting those two Mages, Panrachus and Saleneon," he says seriously. "They are, after all, breaking the law right in front of me." Then he catches your eye and smiles slightly. <<include "thetwo4of">>

The two of you stand for a while in comfortable silence before Blade begins, a bit awkwardly: "<<c surname>>… no, <<c firstname>>. There's been something I've been meaning to ask you." You arch your brows at him. "What is it?" Blade looks stiffly-embarrassed, even pained, as if he'd suddenly swallowed a rock. He stands there for a moment in silence before he forces out tersely: "You and the Mage. …Red. You said that—you'd had—<i>liaisons</i> with him in the past." He looks like he wants to shrivel under the awkwardness of his own words, but it seems his determination to know outweighs even his own pride or embarrassment, because he forges on. "Now that you're reunited. What is the status of your relationship with him now?" Abruptly, he turns away from you, as if something very interesting is going on in the crowd in the town square. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"We\'re practically strangers to each other."' 'werepractically4strangers'>><<set $bladeromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"We\'re just friends. We were just kids when all that stuff happened: it\'s all in the past."' 'werejust4friends'>><<set $bladeromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I still have feelings for him."' 'istill4have'>><<set $redromanceflag += 1>><<set $bladeromanceflag to 0>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I don\'t necessarily have feelings for him now, but I could see something happening in the future."' 'idont4necessarily'>><<set $redromanceflag += 1>><<set $bladeromanceflag -= 5>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Don\'t answer. It\'s none of his business.' 'dont4answer'>><<set $bladeromanceflag -= 1>><<setblade -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

He frowns, taking this in. "I… see." <<include "thenhe4coughs">>

Blade's expression doesn't change, except for a relaxing of the tension around his mouth and eyes. "I… see." <<include "thenhe4coughs">>

Blade's expression hardens in that instant, but he turns away before you can really read his expression. "I see," he says, his voice now stony and emotionless. <<include "thenhe4coughs">>

Blade's expression doesn't change at your silence, but you sense a barrier being flung up between the two of you, anyway. <<include "thenhe4coughs">>

Then he coughs and says, "I only ask because, as your commander… fraternization between Shepherds is forbidden, and he is a Shepherd now." All that being said, he nods towards a few stalls holding some sort of game involving throwing an ax at a target. "Do you see a prize you like?" You follow him into the crowd, and the tall, shadowy form of him doesn't leave your side for the rest of the night. <<include "departure">>

He smiles brightly at you, nodding at your lemon ice. "Don't care for anything stronger? Everyone else is getting into the cups." "Imbibing is illegal for Mages," you remind him. He wrinkles his nose at you in jest. "Doesn't stop your friends Pan and Neon," the thief answers with a wink. For the first time, you notice that he doesn't carry a drink; in fact, you've never seen him drinking alcohol, not even around Trouble or Blade. "There's nothing stopping you from getting one, you know," you tell him, nodding your head at a stand that sells warm mead and wine. Chase shrugs. "Don't care for drink," he tells you idly, stretching; something shiny pinned to his pirate's coat catches the fiery lamplight. "Got to keep my wits about me at all times: there's always a pocket to pick, a mark to scope out, a joint to case. I find more benefits in keeping sober than I do in drinking." The two of you stand for a while in comfortable silence before Chase says, seemingly apropos of nothing and in a very casual way: "So, we never got the chance to talk about this further, but… you and Red. You used to canoodle, no?" You snort at his choice of words. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"We only ever kissed."' 'weonly4ever'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Canoodle? How old are you?"' 'canoodle4how'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Yes, and?"' 'hesticks4his'>><</link>></li> </ul>

"Kiss, canoodle, caboodle, what have you," Chase says, waving his hand. "Getting back to my point…" <<include "hesticks4his">>

"I'm going to be six next year," Chase answers brightly. "Getting back to my point…" <<include "hesticks4his">>

He sticks his hands in the deep pockets of his red overcoat, rocking on his heels. "How do you feel about him now?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"We\'re just friends. All of that other stuff is in the past."' 'were4justfriends'>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>><<set $redromanceflag to 0>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I still have feelings for him."' 'istillhave4feelings'>><<set $chaseromanceflag -= 3>><<set $redromanceflag += 5>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I don\'t have feelings for him now, but I could see something happening in the future."' 'idont4have'>><<set $chaseromanceflag -= 1>><<set $redromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Why do you ask?"' 'whydoyou4ask'>><</link>></li> </ul>

The corner of Chase's mouth quirks in a decidedly-rogueish way. "I've heard <i>that</i> before," he teases—but he seems satisfied with this answer, so he lets the matter drop. <<include "thenhe4seems">>

"Ah," Chase says, looking out at the crowd. His expression is nonchalant, even amused, but… perhaps something about it seems forced? "That explains it, then. Thanks for answering the question." <<include "thenhe4seems">>

Chase nods sagely. "Makes sense," he says. "He's bookish, but good-looking enough. I could see it, too." <<include "thenhe4seems">>

Chase grins. "Curiosity, my dear," he tells you. "Plain and simple. But if you don't want to answer, I get it." <<include "thenhe4seems">>

Then he seems to shake himself a little and turns to you with that usual teasing look in his eyes. "I have to say, you do look lovely as… whoever you are," he says, waggling his eyebrows. "Care to dance more?" He stretches out his upturned hand; when you place yours in it, he flashes something of a smile and smirk, kisses your knuckles briefly, pulls you close, and whirls you off into the night. <<include "departure">>

She sort of flops against you; although it's forbidden to Mages, no one can really tell that she's been indulging in drinks all night. She smells of sunlight and something earthy, like sage. "Can I ask you something?" she half-slurs, hooking an arm around your neck. Although her arm looks slim, you can feel the immense power in it, the wiry muscle of her. "You used to <i>shahi</i> that Red, didn't you? You still like him?" You blink. Of all things, this was not what you expected her to ask. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"We\'re just friends! All of that other stuff is in the distant past."' 'werefriends4just'>><<set $aylaromanceflag += 1>><<set $redromanceflag to 0>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I still have feelings for him."' 'istillhavefeelings4for'>><<set $aylaromanceflag -= 5>><<set $redromanceflag += 5>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I don\'t have feelings for him now, but I could see something happening in the future."' 'idonthave4feelings'>><<st $aylaromanceflag -= 3>><<set $redromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Ew, Red? No way!"' 'ewred4no'>><<set $aylaromanceflag += 1>><<set $redromanceflag to 0>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Don\'t answer. It\'s none of her business.' 'dontanswer4its'>><<set $aylaromanceflag -= 1>><<setayla -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Ayla nods, looking strangely pleased by this answer. "Gotta leave things in the past," she says, nodding wisely. "That's where it belongs." <<include "thenanother4spurt">>

Ayla frowns. "That so?" she says. "Well, you sure have a damned funny way of going about it." Her arm slips off your neck, and she looks away. <<include "thenanother4spurt">>

Ayla frowns. "I guess I could see that," she admits reluctantly. Her arms slips off your neck, and she looks away. <<include "thenanother4spurt">>

She snorts. "I guess he's not that bad-looking," she says, looking a bit pleased and apparently feeling charitable. <<Include "thenanother4spurt">>

Ayla frowns, and an awkward silence falls between you. <<include "thenanother4spurt">>

Then another spurt of music kicks up, and her look brightens and she grabs your wrist. "Come on," she says, leaving you no room to protest—and then you're spinning off again as she leads you through the rest of the night. <<include "departure">>

"He wanted to ask you," Pan says, very loudly, "or, at least, he's wondering—if you'd ever <i>start up</i> anything with him again. Idle curiosity and all that. But of course, he's too chickenshit to ever say anything, so I thought I'd ask." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Never! That\'s all in the past!"' 'neverthats4all'>><<set $redromanceflag to 0>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"We\'re just friends, Pan."' 'werejust4friendspan'>><<set $redromanceflag to 0>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I don\'t know. Maybe someday."' 'idont4know'>><<set $redromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Haven\'t had any time to think about it. No idea."' 'haventhad4any'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Probably. I\'m finding I still have feelings for him."' 'probably4im'>><<set $redromanceflag += 3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Definitely!"' 'defini4tely'>><<set $redromanceflag += 5>><</link>></li> </ul>

"Got it," Pan says drolly. Then he does a double-take, seeming to see you in a new light, and says: "Say, why didn't we ever…?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Get out of here!"' 'getout4of'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I don\'t know, you tell me!"' 'idont4you'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You\'re drunk!"' 'youre4drunk'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I thought about it!"' 'ithought4about'>><</link>></li> </ul>

"I'm going, I'm going." He hightails it back to the others, and the rest of the night blurs past you in a colorful wheel. <<include "departure">>

"Huh," Pan says thoughtfully. But then he's distracted by something else—someone bumping into him, the screams of onlookers as acrobats flip into the air—and stumbles off. After that, the rest of the night blurs past you in a colorful wheel. <<include "departure">>

"Mages," he says in a dignified, virtuous voice, "are not allowed to drink." But he definitely smells of wine when he stumbles off; after that, the rest of the night blurs past you in a colorful wheel. <<include "departure">>

"Huh," Pan says thoughtfully. "Damn, I suppose I should have noticed." But then he's distracted by something else—someone bumping into him, the screams of onlookers as acrobats flip into the air—and stumbles off. After that, the rest of the night blurs past you in a colorful wheel. <<include "departure">>

"Understood," Pan says drolly, holding up his hand. "I'm sure that's how he feels, too. He was just rambling, as one does when one is shit-faced drunk." Then he stumbles off, and the rest of the night blurs past you in a colorful wheel. <<include "departure">>

"Oh?" Pan's eyebrows threaten to climb up into his hairline. "Interesting, very interesting. I'll be sure not to let him know, though. Stuff like that always goes to his fat head." Then he stumbles off, and the rest of the night blurs past you in a colorful wheel. <<include "departure">>

Pan raises his hands. "That's totally fair," he says. "Given that you've been busy, you know, saving the town from a demon, and all. Forget I ever said anything!" Then he stumbles off, and the rest of the night blurs past you in a colorful wheel. <<include "departure">>

Then you start. This is the inn-keeper's daughter! She looks up at you, her expression unreadable from beneath the fierce sparrowhawk mask she's wearing. "Thanks," is all the girl says, nodding at you solemnly. You notice she holds a sticky red treat in her hand. "My dad's awake, thanks to you. I'll never forget that." That's all she has time to say before someone—you think her father—calls for her through the crowds, and then she turns and trips away. <<include "departure">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "departurei">><<nobr>><<if settings.music is true>><<audio ":playing" fadeoverto 3 0>><</if>><</nobr>><</link>></center>

The next morning dawns bright and early on your departure from Solhadur. <<nobr>><<if $education is "Circle-trained">> Before you leave, you take one last hour to walk along the castle ramparts, strolling through the library and running your fingers along the ancient shelves, which now stand empty. The Mages have done their best to pack away and preserve as much as they could, and booby-trap what little they couldn't bring… but you're still aware that this is likely the last time you'll see the inside of the school, now that the Circle is leaving for good. <br><br> How do you feel? <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Unbearably sad. This is the place where you grew up. It hurts to say goodbye.' 'whenyoure4done'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Nostalgic and fond. This place holds so many good memories. You\'re happy you could see it again.' 'whenyoure4done'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Wistful but hopeful. It\'s sad, but the Circle has a brighter future with the Shepherds.' 'whenyoure4done'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Indifferent. This is just a place: a physical shell. You make your own home.' 'whenyoure4done'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Angry. If the world wasn\'t like this, you wouldn\'t have to leave. No one would.' 'whenyoure4done'>><</link>></li> </ul> <<else>> You come down from the old dormitories to find everyone waiting in the courtyard. <br><br> <<include "departureii">> <</if>><</nobr>>

When you're done looking things over, the others meet you outside in the courtyard. <<include "departureii">>

Ayla nods at you, muttering something about seeing you soon in Haven, and Red and at least a dozen of the other Mages come forward to embrace you. "You saved all our lives, <<c firstname>>," a Diviner named Raven murmurs into your ear. "None of us will ever forget that. The Veiled Circle owes you a great debt: the Mages here will follow you and the other Shepherds anywhere." Red coughs lightly and grins at you from over her shoulder. "What she said." Blade stands apart from the crowd, aloof as ever while you finish up. He only nods at the others once in acknowledgment before turning away. You finish your goodbyes on a cheery note: you will all see each other in a matter of weeks, if not less, upon your return to Haven. Red clasps your shoulder and looks long and hard into your eyes. "Stay safe, <<c firstname>>. We'll see you soon." Chase elbows him aside and ruffles your hair. "Don't miss me too much, dearest," he says smoothly. "I'll weep at night without seeing you, but I shan't despair. You should try and keep your chin up, too." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"...I hate you."' 'ihate4you'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Be good and stay out of trouble!"' 'begood4and'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'ll miss you, Chase."' 'illmiss4you'>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>><<setchase +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"See you soon, Red."' 'seeyou4soon'>><<setred +1>><<set $redromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Goodbye, Ayla!"' 'goodbye4ayla'>><<setayla +1>><<set $aylaromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Safe travels, everyone! We\'ll see you soon!"' 'safe4travels'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

He beams. "Love you, too, gorgeous." <<include "departureiii">>

He sighs. "It goes against my very nature, but I'll try," he says. <<include "departureiii">>

He blinks, apparently taken aback by the sincerity of your answer. "Er—I'll miss you, too, <<c firstname>>," he mutters after a moment, kicking a pebble with the tip of his shoe. Then he waves lamely at you as you turn away. "Be safe." <<include "departureiii">>

He smiles while Chase pouts. "Have a good journey, <<c firstname>>—and protect yourself from the cold, will you? Wouldn't want you to be frost-bitten by the time we see you back in Haven." <<include "departureiii">>

She looks starkly embarrassed while Chase pouts. "Er… sure! Goodbye!" she shouts back from a distance. Then she turns away and busies herself with adjusting straps on her pack, as if embarrassed. <<include "departureiii">>

They all nod and wave back, clapping you on the shoulder and wishing you both a safe and untroubled journey. <<include "departureiii">>

And with that, you're back on the road to the Reach. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "departureiv">><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<if settings.music is true>><<audio "snow" volume 0 fadeoverto 10 0.1>><<timed 10s>><<audio "snow" fadeoverto 40 0>><</timed>><</if>><</nobr>>You and Blade travel for another hard sennight on your ahfuri, camping and tramping through the snow, which has resumed falling in thick, lazy flakes after your respite in Capra. The terrain becomes rockier and steeper as you travel north, jutting up first into barren wintry steppes before looming into the jagged mountains of the Shield Peaks. Your ahfuri are perfectly-adapted to this kind of travel, bounding up sheer cliff-faces and padding gracefully along mountain paths that taper in width to the length of the average human shoe. Along with their thick, luxurious fur, which keeps them comfortable in the harshening weather, the hunting cats' enormous retractable claws and feline grace make you feel eternally grateful that you didn't choose to travel on horses; you might have plummeted to your death twice over if you had. The air becomes thinner the higher you climb, and soon the cold becomes so consuming that your face prickles with the sheer intensity of it every time you peek out from your fur-lined hood, and your hands go numb from clutching your ahfuri's reins. You can barely feel the campfires Blade builds at night, and insane winds begin to blast and howl over the peaks, producing strange, eerie reverberations and cutting you to the bone with their chill. It is a lonely and desolate place. One day, close to the top of the peak, you notice Blade sitting up alertly in his saddle, looking around with piercing eyes. "What is it?" you ask him. The Ket looks wary, his head turning this way and that. "I believe we're in Hunter territory," he says after a moment. "If not the Reach proper, then very close to it. I'd always heard there were heavy border patrols in this area; we should have been stopped by now. But there's been no one." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Maybe you just can\'t detect them?"' 'maybeyou4just'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Isn\'t that the reason why we were sent here? Because the Hunters disappeared?"' 'isntthat4the'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"This place is starting to give me the creeps."' 'thisplace4is'>><<setcourage -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Blade huffs lightly. "I doubt that," he says in a slightly-haughty tone. "If that's true, then we have much bigger things to worry about." <<include "departurev">>

Blade nods slowly. "I thought they might have simply been hiding themselves from the Norm merchants, the Inquisitors who came to investigate," he says. "I thought the others who came before us were simply too incompetent to sense them, or otherwise that the Hunters might have revealed themselves to fellow Diminished like us. But this place feels truly empty. Strange." <<include "departurev">>

Blade glances sidelong at you. "Be on your guard," he says. "Anything could happen." <<include "departurev">>

You continue traveling in silence for nearly an hour after that, your eyes growing tired from the strain of trying to discern anything in the blinding white snow, the horizon of which disappears into an equally-pale sky. The treeline vanishes, leaving only you in a vast world of white. You can't tell what's heaven and what's earth here… and maybe that's the point. Perhaps this is part of the strange splendor you've heard defines the mysterious Reach. Eventually Blade calls a halt, pulling his ahfuri up alongside a frozen pond shaded by a lone, scraggly tree. "I need to consult a map," he says shortly, undoing his pack to retrieve it. "Else we'll become lost in these mountains and be doomed to wander in this damned cold." He glances at you as you dismount and stand in the snow, rubbing your arms and stamping your boots to improve the blood circulation in your feet. Beside you, your ahfuri Uwala stretches and decides to rest in the sun. "Are you cold?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"A little."' 'departurevi'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Yes, but I\'m trying to get used to it."' 'departurevi'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Yes, and I feel like I\'m going to die."' 'departurevi'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '<b>[LIE]</b> "No, not at all."' 'departurevi'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"No, I\'m just moving like this to prevent my limbs from falling asleep."' 'departurevi'>><</link>></li> </ul>

<<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 10>> Blade unclasps his cloak and perfunctorily wraps it around your shoulders. "Here," he says, almost bossily. <<elseif $blade gte 65>> He takes off his thick gloves and tosses them to you. "Put those over yours," he says. "I can't use them with this map, anyway." <<else>> He nods. "Don't push yourself too hard; I can't have you collapsing up here." He briefly touches the back of his own neck, looking a little annoyed. "I'm actually feeling overheated." <</if>><</nobr>> Then he turns back to his map to consult it. "I spotted a patch of sunberries back that way," he notes, jerking his head in the direction he means. "They have restorative properties, if you feel like gathering them; they're said to warm the blood and stave off sickness and the cold." He bends over his map, intent, and because you have nothing better to do, you tramp off to go look for the sunberries. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "departurevii">><</link>></center>

<<notify_codex_bestiary "Ironhorn">>Several yards down the craggy slope, you lose sight of Blade and the ahfuri, scanning the patches of snow and bare rock for telltale bursts of bright orange and yellow. You're so absorbed in your hunt that you walk for several minutes, your breath forming light clouds in front of your face. <<nobr>><<if $cunning gte 50>> Then, all at once, you feel a prickling at the back of your neck, as if a pair of eyes were on it. You whirl, your hand flying to your $mainweapon, and look up to find a shaggy grey creature staring at you from a nearby crag. <<else>> You're still concentrating on finding the berries when you hear an animal huff from very, very close by. Your skin jumps as you look up and find a shaggy grey creature staring at you from a nearby crag. <</if>><</nobr>> You stare. The creature is an ironhorn, a huge, sturdy animal similar to a mountain goat. Dark, vicious horns curl so high on its head that the tips look in danger of piercing the animal's skull. It stares at you with somber yellow eyes, pawing one hoof at the rock it's standing on… but for the moment, it holds its peace. You try to remember what you've heard of ironhorns. You think they're generally grazers, not aggressive unless threatened… but why is this one staring at you so intently? <ul class="choices"> <<if $specialization is "wild" and $magic gte 30>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Speak to the animal.</div>' 'speakto4animal'>><<set $ironhorn to true>><</link>><<else>><<disabled "Speak to the animal.">><</if>> <li><<link 'Wave your arms and scare it off.' 'waveyour4arms'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Ignore it and keep walking.' 'ignoreit4and'>><</link>></li> </ul>

You reach out a tendril of your magic to address the ironhorn. <i>Hello</i>. If the ironhorn is surprised by your attempts to communicate it, it doesn't show it. <i>Turn back</i>, it—he—says, tossing his head. <i>You do not want to go the way you are going</i>. <i>Why not</i>? <i>That way lies sickness and death</i>, he tells you. <i>My calves died from it. You get close to the dark mountain, to the Place with Many Mouths, you waste away</i>. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'The dark mountain?' 'before4ironhorn'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'The Place with Many Mouths?' 'before4ironhorn'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Sickness and death?' 'before4ironhorn'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Before the ironhorn can answer, there's a quiet hissing sound—and then a hard <i>thwack</i>. <<include "departureviii">>

The ironhorn regards you lazily and doesn't move. But then there's a quiet hissing sound—and then a hard <i>thwack</i>. <<include "departureviii">>

The ironhorn regards you lazily as you make to walk past it. But then there's a quiet hissing sound—and then a hard <i>thwack</i>. <<include "departureviii">>

The ironhorn's head jerks to the side violently, and its legs fold up underneath it and crumple. It dies. You stare. An arrow has suddenly sprouted from the side of its neck… and when you trace the path from where it flew back to its source, you see a very tall, snowy-haired Hunter standing on a higher boulder, looking as if he'd been there all along. He locks eyes with you, and his grey eyes flare with a kind of awareness. His features are more on the delicate side, his frame narrow and slim, and though his expression is generally neutral and slack, a quick intelligence glints from his hooded eyes. He approaches you, moving as silently and lithely as a prowling animal. A strange silver knife <<nobr>><<if $heritage is "Hunter">> —his <i>hraqa</i>, you realize, his chosen Hunter weapon and the conduit of his exorcist powers— <</if>><</nobr>> rests in his belt, but he holds it loosely, lightly, as if he's prepared for anything but is not threatening you necessarily. In his other hand is a rather plain longbow. "I was hunting it," he says by way of explanation, indicating the ironhorn's corpse. Dark blood begins to pool against the rocks, and its hairy legs stick stiffly up into the air. "I hope you didn't mean to claim it." <ul class="choices"> <<if $ironhorn is true>><li><<link '"I was talking to him!" You feel sick. It\'s as if a stranger had been killed right in front of you.' 'iwas4talking'>><<setcompassionate +5>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $heritage is "Hunter">><<link '<div class="heritage-item">Make the Hunter sign for greeting. "Greetings, brother."</div>' 'make4huntersign'>><<if $sibling is "sibling">><<set $sibling to "cousin">><</if>><</link>><<else>><<disabled "Make the Hunter sign for greeting. \"Greetings, brother.\"">><</if>> <li><<link '"No, I wasn\'t hunting it. But you did surprise me."' 'noi4wasnt'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You could have shot me!"' 'youcould4have'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Who are you?"' 'who4areyou'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

The Hunter raises his pale eyebrows. "I'm… sorry," he says after a moment, clearly at a loss of what to say. "I didn't realize." <<include "departureix">>

The Hunter looks a bit surprised by your gesture; you see his eyes go to the streak of white in your hair, and then he returns the gesture. "Greetings, $sibling," he says slowly. <<include "departureix">>

The Hunter inclines his head slightly. "I apologize," he says. "I didn't realize you were there." <<include "departureix">>

The Hunter raises his pale eyebrows. "I think not," he answers, quite politely. "I am a very good shot." <<include "departureix">>

"I should pose the same question to you," the Hunter answers, "given that you're the one in my people's lands." <<include "departureix">>

Before you can answer, Blade appears at the top of the ridge, drawn by the noise. He puts his hand on the hilt of his sword when he sees the Hunter, but calls down in a steady enough voice: <<nobr>><<if $blade gte 60>> "Are you all right, <<c firstname>>?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I\'m fine!"' 'henods4curtly'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"This man snuck up on me. He hasn\'t hurt me, though."' 'henods4curtly'>><</link>></li> </ul> <<else>> "Who are you?" <br><br> <<include "departurex">> <</if>><</nobr>>

He nods curtly and turns to the Hunter. "Are you a Hunter of the Reach?" <<include "departurex">>

The white-haired man blinks slowly. "I am Naolin," he says finally, loosing his grip on his dagger. "<i>Sola</i> to the Hunters here and leader of the Black Shield. I am protector of our chieftain, Halek." <<nobr>><<if $heritage is "Hunter">> You suck in a breath at the words. <i>Sola</i> is a position of power and high honor among the Hunters; that means he's second-in-command, practically royalty, to all the Hunters in the region and its capital, Uth Baryd. But why is a sola alone and hunting a lowly ironhorn? <br><br> "Where are the rest of the Hunters?" you ask. <<else>> Blade's expression doesn't change at the strange words. "Sola, if I remember correctly, means you are a powerful man," he says bluntly. "Why are you out here in the rocks, hunting goats?" <br><br> "And where are the rest of the Hunters?" you add. <</if>><</nobr>> Naolin looks at the two of you and eyes your uniforms and sun medallions, and an expression of muted surprise crosses his face. "Are you Shepherds?" he asks then. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"What does it look like?"' 'departurexi'>><<setcourage +1>><<setcharisma -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Yes, we are."' 'departurexi'>><<setloyal +1>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Hold your silence.' 'departurexi'>><<setcompassionate -1>><<stcourage +1>><<setcharisma -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

The sola turns and gestures, indicating for you to follow him. "The Hunters could use your help," he says. "I'll show you where my people are." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "departurexii">><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<if settings.music is true>><<audio "reach" volume 0 loop fadeoverto 30 0.1>><</if>><<audio "snow" volume 0.1 time 0 play>><<timed 10s>><<audio "snow" fadeout>><</timed>><<notify_codex_bestiary "Yakku Elk">><</nobr>>You take your ahfuri an hour northwest, following Naolin's directions as he rides alongside you on an enormous white <i>yakku</i> elk. The Hunter—who you realize is only a few years older than yourself—doesn't speak much during the journey other than to show you the way, though he keeps glancing surreptitiously at you and frowning pensively to himself. He does not elaborate on why the Hunters have closed themselves off from the outside world, or why there are none of them patrolling the area; he insists that it's something better conveyed by his chieftain—or sol—Halek. Blade looks as suspicious as you feel. You notice once or twice that he also looks a little tired as you race up the mountain—but that could simply be from the long hours of sitting in the ahfuri's hard saddle. Finally, you reach enormous, ancient-looking gates hewn from what look like the vast trunks of abramic oaks—trees that Naolin informs you are holy to the Hunters. The gate and its surrounding wall loom at least ten men high. Carved into each pole is a Hunter rune that seems to crackle with hidden power: although Naolin doesn't point them out specifically, you guess that these are special exorcist wards to protect the area from demonic invasion and infiltration. "The Mornhaven Gate," he says a bit proudly as you pass beneath the shadow of the wall. The vast doors creak open, pulled by two wary-looking sentries who bow to Naolin as you pass and accept the hairy bundle of his slain ironhorn. "It's never been breached by demons, not in the thousands of years since it's been built. You'll never see another wall like it." <ul class="choices"> <<if $heritage is "Hunter">><<link '<div class="heritage-item">"Isn\'t that because we\'ve lost the art of how to make it?"</div>' 'isnthat4because'>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link '"It\'s never been breached by Endarkened, but wasn\'t it breached by the Autarch\'s army during the Castigation?"' 'itsnever4been'>><<setcharisma -5>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"It\'s a true marvel."' 'itsa4true'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Why are the abramic oaks so special?"' 'whyare4the'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Naolin frowns, glancing sidelong at Blade, who looks back. "We don't speak of such things around outsiders so casually, $sibling," he tells you. <<include "departurexiii">>

Naolin frowns deeply, apparently offended by your question. He doesn't answer, and the silence that falls over you is decidedly awkward. <<include "departurexiii">>

Naolin smiles. "I think it's a shame others don't get to see it too often." <<include "departurexiii">>

Naolin blinks, considering how to answer. "Legend has it that Narthax used the boughs of an abramic oak to cradle the first Hunters when they were born," he says. "For that reason, they are considered sacred to us—and anathema to demons." He shrugs one shoulder. "So the legend goes." "Have you tried crafting weapons from this wood?" Blade asks, clearly interested in anything that might serve as an effective strategy against the Endarkened. Naolin elects not to answer. "That is for the Hunters to know." <<include "departurexiii">>

Past the Mornhaven Gate lies a winding set of wide stone stairs, carved into the very side of the mountain. Ascending these into even greater thin-aired heights allows you to reach another wall—this one bordering the Hunter capital, Uth Baryd. You stare as Naolin leads you into the city. It is a smaller city, built into the mountain and nowhere near as large as Haven or Capra or Ambryn. The homes here are simple, one or two-story stone houses lining gravel-edged mountain paths. At the center of the city are clusters of ancient buildings: a tall dark spire, which Naolin says houses the Black Shield, the Hunters' elite warriors and personal guard of the sol, and a large, narrow compound you think might be a library, and a circular building that looks like some kind of fighting arena. Naolin whisks you past all of this, moving so briskly that you almost don't notice the greatest oddity of the place: the city's streets are all silent and empty. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "departurexiv">><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<if settings.music is true>><<audio ":playing" fadeoverto 30 0>><</if>><</nobr>>You look around as you're led to a kind of great hall in the epicenter of the city, where the sol lives and rules. Your arms prickle as you notice that no curious faces peek out at you from the windows along the way; the wind howls mournfully through barren roads, and there is no other sound. Here and there you see discarded toys, upturned buckets, a cart lying abandoned in the street. It is as if the entire city had emptied in a matter of hours. You're tense as Naolin leads you into the great hall, a stately building with a domed white roof and a golden sunburst affixed to its apex. This place, too, is empty, but instead of acknowledging this he moves swiftly and confidently through the halls until you reach a snowy courtyard at the building's center. Here, a tall man is arguing quietly with a young woman whose luminous white hair falls all the way down to her feet. "Sol," Naolin says, putting a fist to his heart and bowing respectfully. "I found Shepherds when I was out on my hunt. I've brought them to you in case they can help us." The tall man turns, frowning, and your eyes nearly bug out of your head in surprise. His face is the carbon copy of Naolin's! The pale features, towering frame, and sleepy eyes are exactly the same. The only difference between the two is that the sol's hair is just a little longer than his sola's; where Naolin stands straight and tall, his chieftain slouches lackadaisically; and the other man's ears sport piercings where Naolin has none. "You're twins?" you ask, trying to hide your surprise. To your recollection, you've never heard or encountered a pair of Hunter twins before. The two of them scowl briefly, mirroring each other. "Yes," says the sol—whose name is Halek, you remember—"and before you ask, yes, I'm the older one, by eight minutes. That's why I'm chieftain and he is not." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"That hardly seems fair."' 'thathardly4seems'>><<sethalek +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I wasn\'t going to ask that."' 'iwasnt4going'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"So Naolin is in charge of protecting you while you lead? Does he take over if something happens to you?"' 'sonaolin4is'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

"I agree," Halek says, pointedly exchanging a glance with his brother, who rolls his eyes. <<include "departurexv">>

"Oh, really?" he asks in a rather bored way. "Everyone else does." <<include "departurexv">>

Naolin purses his lips, perhaps displeased that you would ask something like this so boldly, but Halek drawls, quite unaffected: "Rule passes to my heirs, not my sola. Our ancestors thought that letting the sola inherit power would motivate the sola to do a poor job of guarding me—if you catch my meaning. Pretty unpleasant to think about, isn't it?" He glances at Naolin. "Not that my brother doesn't think about throttling me every other day, anyway." "That's sacrilegious, sol," Naolin says crisply, "and I would never blaspheme in such a way." Halek makes a sonorous noise of disbelief. <<include "departurexv">>

Then he blinks and looks at you again, as if taking you and Blade in for the first time. "I imagine you've come to help us with our… current crisis?" His expression is cautious, guarded, as he says it. "I appreciate the show of support, but I hope you know what you're getting into." "We have no idea what your problem is or if we can help you with it," Blade breaks in irritably then. "Your sola here has refused to breathe a word of it to either of us. So no, we don't know what we're getting into. We came because you've turned away the merchant caravans that came to bring you supplies, and you won't let anyone through your walls; and no one's seen hide nor hair of your people in sennights. The Autarch sent us to investigate. Where is everyone?" His face looks a little flushed as he says it, and you think to yourself that you've never seen him look quite so agitated before. But then the woman Halek had been arguing with steps forward and looks keenly at him. Blade glares back like an angered cat. "You are sick," the young woman says quietly, reaching out soft, pale hands to touch his face. Blade jerks back as if she might burn him. "You have the fever." "Do not touch me," he says roughly. He looks to Halek and Naolin, who now look worried. Naolin reaches into a pocket and ties a cloth around the lower part of his face, nudging Halek to do the same; his brother ignores him. "What is she talking about?" Blade demands. The young woman looks at you now. She is a beautiful, ethereal-looking person, her white hair rippling down her back in one perfect shining sheet, her eyes ringed with pale lashes and the irises colored a delicate blue. She's dressed in rich red robes and has painted her lips a shade of dark ruby to match. "This is my… this is Moonsilk," Halek says after a moment, not looking at the woman. "She's trained in the healing arts; she can sense these things in others, sometimes." "I am his betrothed," Moonsilk adds contentedly; then she nods again at Blade. "And you have a touch of the fever in you." "I never get sick," Blade says over her, annoyed. Naolin says, "Moonsilk is rarely wrong about these things. You should let her have a look at you; we might need to quarantine you." With the kerchief over his face, you can't tell if he's nervous, grave, or something in between. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"<i>Quarantine</i>?"' 'departurexvi'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"What fever?"' 'departurexvi'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Enough cryptic words! Tell us what\'s going on!"' 'departurexvi'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Blade looks extremely affronted as Halek sighs. "The Reach is in the midst of a plague," he tells you. "<i>That's</i> where everyone is: they're all sick, or dying. It's taken out over four-fifths of our population. We call it the Wildfire Fever." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "departurexvii">><</link>></center>

You listen in thunderstruck silence as Halek finally explains what's been going on. The fever set in a little over a month ago, sweeping through the capital like—well—a wildfire, infecting the strongest warriors and the frailest elders alike. Even children haven't been spared. At first the Hunters were able to contain it to a select few, but the sickness turned out to be incredibly virulent, spreading through any means possible: air, water, or otherwise. Only Halek, Naolin, Moonsilk, and four dozen or so Hunters have remained unscathed so far; they turned away the merchants and other forces sent to investigate for fear of spreading the sickness outside of the Reach, remaining enclosed and isolated instead within their walls. That's why they purportedly "vanished" and haven't been seen for weeks. "We've been surviving on supplies sent from neighboring Hunter settlements and tribes, but if something isn't done soon, the entire city might perish," Halek says. <<include "wildfireexplain">>

"I'm sorry for that," Naolin says quickly. "We're growing desperate, and I thought if anyone could help us, it would be Shepherds. I'd hoped that you could help us resolve the problem before it placed you in any danger." "You still should have given us the chance to decide for ourselves," you begin hotly. "It was my fault," Halek intercedes. "He acted on my orders. But if I'm right, you don't have anything to worry about—I hope." <<include "wildfireexplain">>

"Fever first," Moonsilk says softly, as if it's a chant. "And then delirium, pain in the bones, fire in the brain… Vomiting, insomnia for about ten days… after that, a long coma, and finally death." <<include "wildfireexplain">>

"About a dozen," Halek says seriously, looking briefly pained. "The others are still hanging on, but the number of people who can care for them is dwindling rapidly. More will join them if we don't find a solution soon." <<include "wildfireexplain">>

"I don't," Blade insists before anyone can say anything. He folds his arms. "If anything, I was feeling something hours before we even came in sight of the city limits. If I have caught an illness, it's nothing more than a simple cold." <<include "we4cant">>

"We can't take that risk," Halek says now, turning to him. "It could be spreading that far on the air now; we don't understand how the fever works. Every minute you stand there, you endanger us, and through us all the children and old ones we come in contact with after this. Can you live with that?" He nods at you. "You might even be risking your companion, here." Blade's face shutters at that, and he glances at you, now looking less certain. <ul class="choices"> <<if $bladeromanceflag gte 7 or $blade gte 65>><li><<link 'Lay a hand on his arm. "Maybe you should go with Moonsilk. It can\'t hurt to get looked at."' 'laya4hand'>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link 'Impose yourself protectively in front of him. "I don\'t believe he\'s sick!"' 'impose4yourself'>><<setblade +1>><<setcunning -1>><<setcourage +1>><<setloyal +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Eye him warily. "Maybe you should listen to them. We can\'t take the risk."' 'eyehim4warily'>><<setcunning +1>><<setblade -1>><<setloyal -3>><</link>></li> </ul>

The corners of Blade's mouth turn down severely, and for a moment he stands there, still as a statue as he seems to war internally with himself. Then he turns to Moonsilk and grinds out: "Fine. If we can make absolutely certain, it makes sense. But as soon as you clear me, I'm coming back out." <<include "she4nods">>

That's when Blade touches your elbow, gently moving you aside. "I don't believe it, either," he says wearily, "but it can't hurt to make absolutely certain." He looks suspiciously at Moonsilk. "But as soon as they clear me, I'm coming back out." <<include "she4nods">>

The corners of Blade's mouth turn down severely, and for a moment he stands there, still as a statue as he seems to war internally with himself. Then he turns to Moonsilk and grinds out: "Fine. But as soon as you clear me, I'm coming back out." <<include "she4nods">>

She nods. "I'll take you to the infirmary," she murmurs. "We've quarantined the sick in the old temple, so it's empty for now." She begins to lead him away, and Blade looks back over his shoulder and locks eyes with you. "Don't do anything without me," he instructs severely—and then they're out of the courtyard. Halek turns to you then. "He'll be fine. Will you take a walk with me?" <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "the4sol">><</link>></center>

The sol leads you to a place in the building he calls the inner sanctum: a vast, dark hall reverberating with a kind of heavy, holy silence, like the kind you find within the deepest temples and tallest churches. Above you, the white dome you saw from the outside stretches in a vast, circular inner mural, depicting the old god of justice, Narthax, descending from the sun to cast his hand out towards a group of white-haired worshipers. Other murals adorn the ceiling in complex frescoes, depicting various Hunter heroes slaying Endarkened with spears of white light, and a central oculus at the top of the dome lights a shrine beneath it with a similar shaft of heavenly illumination. "Our oldest and most sacred shrine," Halek murmurs as Naolin takes a position near the door of the sanctum. "No, don't approach it—only our priests and augurs are allowed to do that. Even I'm not allowed near it. See that candle at its top? Its light is never allowed to go out: not even now, when there's hardly anyone healthy enough to tend to it." He nods at the oculus, a circular portal in the roof that seems open to the sky, rain, and snow. "Through that, it's said Narthax is able to watch us even from his current slumber… and our priests use it to look for omens and other signs to help guide our people." Then he covers his mouth to hide a yawn. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"What kinds of omens and signs?"' 'what4kinds'>><<sethalek +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Why do you worship Narthax in particular?"' 'whydo4you'>><</link>></li> <<if $cunning gte 30>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"You look as if this talk is boring you."</div>' 'youlook4as'>><</link>><<else>><<disabled '"You look as if this talk is boring you."'>><</if>> </ul>

Halek shrugs. "Oh, I'm sure I don't know," he says in an indifferent way. "I suppose you could take me and Naolin as an example. We were born as twins, under new snows and a blue moon, or something—and apparently that was a portent that we were destined to lead our people into salvation. Something along those lines. And everyone still believes it to this day." <<include "thenhe4blinks">>

Halek raises his brows. "You don't know?" <<nobr>><<if $heritage is "Hunter">> He glances at the streak of white in your hair. "I would have thought you'd have an inkling of your heritage." <br><br> "My parents were displaced migrants who fled to Maj after the Uprisings in Haven. They didn't tell me much about... well, anything," you inform him. <br><br> "Ah," Halek says, his expression idly regretful. "That explains it. I know a lot of Hunters who view the old ways as a painful reminder of their loss." <</if>><</nobr>> He nods at the mural depicting Narthax and explains: "According to the Canticle of Light, Narthax was the god who created the Hunters and gave us our grace, our powers. During the Dawn Wars—what we Hunters call the Long War—the world was invaded by the spawn of Tapyt, the demons… yada yada… and then Narthax, Lord of Justice, descended from the heavens and gifted the Hunter people with the ability to destroy the children of the Enemy, the soldiers of Hael, et cetera, et cetera—making us the sole people gifted with the blessing to hunt demons." He bites back another yawn. "He gave us our powers, so of course we're obsessed with him. We worship everything about him, right down to his heavenly underwear." <<include "thenhe4blinks">>

Halek forces back another yawn. "It can be quite boring. All I ever hear anyone talk about is Narthax this, Narthax that. You can't ask your neighbor how his wife is without him bringing Narthax into it. For me, it's a bit hard to believe that…" <<include "thenhe4blinks">>

Then he blinks and shakes his head. "No, this is neither here nor there. I brought you here so others wouldn't overhear—particularly Moonsilk, or even my dear brother." He glances at Naolin, who looks suspicious but can't seem to hear you from this distance. "He's trustworthy, of course, but… protective of our secrets; all the Hunters are, as I'm sure you know. They wouldn't be happy about me disclosing any of this to you, but I don't see how I have a choice." "Disclosing what to me?" you ask. "Tell me your name first," Halek says in return. "<<c firstname>>," you tell him slowly. Halek blinks. "Would you help save the Hunters from our plague, <<c firstname>>? If you alone had the power to?" <<include "healtalk">>

Halek cocks his head, staring at you intently. "Well, for one thing, you're the one outsider who isn't sick," he says. "And we need an outsider. But more than that… there's something… different about you." He frowns, his grey eyes studying you. "I can't pinpoint exactly what it is, but it makes my Hunter senses itch. There's something—" <<nobr>><<if $possessed is true>> He pauses, seems to think better of it. "Something within you I can sense. Or maybe it's the lack of something. Whatever it is… you're different." Then he frowns. "Truth be told, I don't know whether I should trust it or not: it doesn't feel entirely right. But I'm desperate, so I don't exactly have the luxury to be choosy." <<else>> He pauses, seems to think better of it. "Something within you that I can sense," he admits finally. "I don't know how to explain it. Something about you that's shining. It doesn't feel exactly…" He goes quiet again. "…Of this world. But I could just be imagining things." <</if>><</nobr>> You try not to shift uneasily on your feet. Could he be talking about the Words of Power? The voice inside your head that sometimes speaks to you when you're in danger? Or something else? <<nobr>> <<if $godspeaker lt 7>> <br><br> Halek shakes his head then. "Sorry. I don't mean to speak in cryptic words." <br><br> Words. The thought occurs to you then: could you use a Word of Power to cure the Hunters? <br><br> <i>You could,</i> a voice within you reasons. <i>But without understanding the source of the plague, where it comes from, it would just come back to infect them again after you left. And then you'd have wasted a Word for nothing.</i> <</if>><</nobr>> "I think that you can help us," Halek finishes definitively, breaking you out of your thoughts. "It's just a feeling I have. I can't really explain it." <<include "healtalk">>

Halek shakes his head. "We've tried that," he says. "The first weeks in, I sent for healers from all over the mountains. They either cured the people temporarily, only for the victims to fall ill again as soon as the healer stopped helping them… or the healers got sick themselves and added to the strain of things. I doubt you could do much differently." He shakes his head. "No, I have something else in mind." <<include "healtalk">>

"As much as I might want to help," you note, "a plague is not really in our jurisdiction. We handle things of a more arcane nature." "That's just the thing," Halek butts in. "I'm not entirely convinced this sickness <i>is</i> just a mundane disease. I think it might be something… else." He begins to tick off his reasons using his fingers. "For one thing, the plague set in suspiciously fast. We're isolated up here in the Reach, so widespread sickness is rare for us, as our contact with outsiders is limited… so why did it suddenly erupt suddenly like this? Where did it come from? And we were caught totally off-guard. That in itself is suspicious: it was more like an enemy attack than it was a random disease. As if it was meant to target our weakest vulnerabilities. Would a malicious force try to breach the Mornhaven gate, something that's never been done before, or try to kill us off a different way?" He shakes his head. "But even more than that, things just don't line up. Sickness persisting after healers, even magical ones, tended to the patient is something I've never heard of. What 'normal' illness does that? And for some reason, Moonsilk can sense a little when someone has the fever in them—and she's pure Hunter. Untrained in anything but the exorcist arts and some mending. Have you ever heard of a Hunter naturally picking up on something that wasn't… demon-related?" He has a point there. This doesn't sound like a completely normal problem. "So you think this plague might be caused by demons?" you ask him. It doesn't even sound that far-fetched—not after the nightmarish comatose state that took Capra, or the drug-induced stupor that swept through the streets of Haven. Halek frowns. "I don't have any proof," he says, "but that's what my gut tells me. And a Hunter's gut is rarely wrong about these things." He sighs. "But before we can get to the cause of the plague, first we have to find some way to cure it. To save the people who are already touched by it." He glances at you. "I'm hoping you can help us with that." <<include "healtalk">>

Halek smiles a little in relief, but the expression is fleeting. <<include "halekexplain">>

If Halek is relieved that you're willing to entertain whatever plan he has in mind, he doesn't show it. <<include "halekexplain">>

"I've been reading through our ancient texts," he begins, turning back to gaze at the shrine and clasping his hands seriously behind his back. He begins to pace the length of the room; you trail after him. "Trying to find an answer for all this, see if anything like this has happened before. According to some of our earliest records, a plague like this <i>did</i> hit the Hunters, way back during the Long War. I lost the thread of it there… but even farther back than that, I uncovered a legend that seems to have some legitimacy to it. Have you ever heard of a substance called lachryma?" <ul class="choices"> <<if $intelligence gte 35>><<link '<div class="choice-item">You have, actually.</div>' 'you4haveactually'>><</link>><<else>><<disabled "You have, actually.">><</if>> <li><<link 'You can\'t say you have.' 'youcant4say'>><</link>></li> </ul>

"I think I have," you say, dredging up the faint memory. "It's said to be a miraculous substance—an elixir that can cure any ill. A single drop on the tongue can cleanse the body and soul." Halek nods gravely. "According to our legends, lachryma was created when Narthax's first Hunter was slain, back when the world was still new. Seeing one of his children die for the first time, Narthax shed godly tears—lachryma—and buried that Hunter in the Shield Peaks' highest mountain. Supposedly, the fount of lachryma is still there, deep within the mountain… and drinking from it can cure a mortal of any sickness." <<include "lachryma">>

"It's said to be a miracle substance," Halek explains. "An elixir that can cure any ill: a single drop on the tongue can cleanse the body and soul." He shakes his head. "According to our legends, lachryma was created when Narthax's first Hunter was slain, back when the world was still new. Seeing one of his children die for the first time, Narthax shed godly tears—lachryma—and buried that Hunter in the Shield Peaks' highest mountain. Supposedly, the fount of lachryma is still there, deep within the mountain… and drinking from it can cure a mortal of any sickness." <<include "lachryma">>

He looks serious. "And I've found the location of the cave that leads to it." "But if any of that is true, why hasn't anyone tried to harness this substance?" you ask. "A liquid that can cure someone of any ill? If the myth had any truth to it, all the soldiers of the Autarchy would be searching high and low for it, since the Autarch herself is sick." A flash of ill-suppressed hatred flickers across Halek's face before leaving behind his usual placid expression. "Very few people even know of this myth," he says. "And those who do generally dismiss it as a quaint story, like the fruit of the gods or the river of youth. Only those in the Reach know that there might be even an iota of truth to the claim; and we've guarded the location of where the lachryma might lie with our very lives, and more. You couldn't get a Reach Hunter to breathe a word of it, or of any of our people's secrets, even if you cut him to ribbons." "So why haven't you sent your Hunters to try and get it, if you know where it is and the need is so urgent?" you ask. Halek's expression clouds. "Let me show you." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "lachrymai">><</link>></center>

He brings you to another darkened chamber in the sanctum, this one carrying the stately and ancient air of a museum; there are weapons and historical artifacts lying in glass cases here, as well as murals rough-painted on broken stone fragments. Naolin, several yards behind you, makes a small noise of protest as Halek lets you in here, but his brother ignores him and beelines straight for a case in the back-right corner, coming to a halt in front of an enormous painting depicting a giant black mountain. Crawling in tunnels within the mountain are strange white figures, but their features are indistinct and faded with time. "The Cave of Many Mouths," Halek drawls, nodding to the painting. "An uncreative crowd, my people; not great at choosing names. But it's fitting. It's a peak that lies a good distance away from the Reach, and I'm positive that it houses the spring that contains the lachryma; all of the records and legends, or what I could piece together, fit into a piece that only points here." He shakes his head. "However, we haven't been able to mount an expedition to get inside." "Because…?" Halek looks grim. "Because the mountain now houses a colony of Ghasts," he says. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "lachrymaii">><</link>></center>

<<notify_codex_endarkened "The Tainted Ones">> You frown. Ghasts are Tainted creatures, the corrupted offspring of Endarkened and Children of Light. From what you know of them, Ghasts are not as dangerous as some other Tainted beasts, like Shades or Balor: they're humanoid in shape and only about as strong as the average adult. Stories say the ones roaming the distant Realm-of-Ghosts emit a strange red light from their eyes, to lure unwary travelers close, as they have few other ways of catching their prey. They are not particularly fast, or clever, and don't possess any Endarkened magic. They can't even speak. Nevertheless, your mother used to scare you and Zori with stories about Ghasts, with their garish white skin and bleeding eyes. Still, you'd think they'd be easy for a squadron of Hunters to deal with. "I know what you're thinking," Halek says, reading your face. "But the very thing you think would be an asset in this case would actually be its downfall." He points a long, pale finger at the mural, tracing the complex network and warren of tunnels that lead into the heart of the mountain. "The lachryma lies at the center of the peak," he says. "To reach it, one must avoid a legion—maybe hundreds, even thousands—of Ghasts, and then make it out again with the lachryma. That in itself wouldn't be too difficult, in the grand scheme of things: the Ghasts in these peaks are as dumb as animals, having been trapped underground for millennia. They've been there since the Dawn Wars and have never seen the light of day. What's more, they're blind, unlike their stronger counterparts in the Realm-of-Ghosts." He holds up the same finger. "But their numbers are unknowable, and their blood carries the Endarkened taint. Do you know what happens to Hunters when they catch wind of the Rot?" <ul class="choices"> <<if $intelligence gte 15>><li><<link 'Your heart sinks. "Oh."' 'helek4sighs'>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link '"You... uh..." You pause. "...I\'ve got nothing."' 'helek4sighs'>><<setintelligence -1>><</link>></li> <<if $heritage is "Hunter">><<heritage'You grimace. Your father hated talking about this. \"You fly into a blood-rage.\"' 'helek4sighs'>><</if>> </ul>

Halek sighs. "We fly into a blood-rage," he finishes. "We go berserk, for lack of a better word. All pure-blooded Hunters suffer from it; we can't control it. As soon as we sense a demon is nearby, our minds go blank, our blood turns hot and our ears start to sing… we can't fight it. We <i>have</i> to kill the demon, or the thing with demon blood, whether it's against our wills or not. If you held my brother at gunpoint in the presence of a demon and told me not to attack it, or else you would kill him, I wouldn't have a choice in the matter. I would barely even see him, or you. I would only see the demon, would only have the thought to destroy it… I wouldn't be able to stop myself until that demon was dead. That is the 'gift' Narthax gave us. Or curse, more like." He turns away briefly, studying the mural. "Normally, it isn't such a burden. Normally, killing demons only serves to help us, or those around us, and people are grateful for it. Our grace lets us do the impossible, and our rage allows us to withstand unholy amounts of pain or injury in order to wipe out the threat, as we were supposedly made to do. There isn't usually a real reason to refrain. But when you have a mission to venture into a Tainted-infested mountain, to retrieve the only cure that could save your people…" "A team of you would lose yourselves," you finish, realizing. "As soon as you caught wind of the Ghasts, you'd all go off into the darkness, intent on killing them—every last one. And there are so many of them. You'd either be overwhelmed and killed yourselves, or it would take you so long to hunt down them all that you'd forget all about the lachryma. And by the time you cleared the mountain, if you ever did, and regained your senses… it would be too late for your people." Halek nods decisively. "You see now why we need you?" he asks. "It has to be a non-Hunter: someone who doesn't suffer the <i>nyrol</i>, the blood-rage, someone who can actually focus on getting the lachryma and getting out in time. Someone who wouldn't lose themselves and forget. I would have sent for you Shepherds sooner, but I only just discovered the location of the lachryma a day ago. And…" He casts a rueful glance at Naolin. "There are plenty among our people who hate the Shepherds. You'd think we Hunters would love a military police force dedicated to hunting Endarkened. But since you work for the Autarch…" The very entity who persecuted and exiled his people. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I understand."' 'i4understand'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"There are some among you who would refuse our help? Even at the risk of going extinct?"' 'thereare4some'>><<setcourage +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Just so you know, I don\'t <i>like</i> working for the Autarch. But needs must."' 'justso4youknowidont'>><<setloyal -5>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"The Autarch is still better than the demons, you know. She imposes order, as flawed as it may be, and she can be merciful. It\'s better than death by Endarkened."' 'theautarch4is'>><<setloyal +5>><</link>></li> </ul>

Halek nods heavily. "I don't have any feelings about it either way, mind you," he says. "But try telling that to a council of elders." <<include "he4sighs">>

The sheer pride of it! But Halek seems to agree. "Pride is one of our longest traditions and our biggest problem," he says. He sighs, looking around at all of the prized artifacts around you. "And it's a pride that's been a thousand years in the making. There's not much one chieftain can do about that." <<include "he4sighs">>

Halek shrugs lightly. "I don't judge you for your choices," he says. "I daresay I'd make the same ones, in your position. In fact, I don't have any feelings about it either way—but try telling that to the council of traditionalist old fogeys." <<include "he4sighs">>

Halek makes a noncommittal sound in his throat. "Whatever you say," he says. "<i>I</i> don't have any particular feelings about it either way, but try telling that to the council of elders." <<include "he4sighs">>

He sighs and pinches his nose. "So," he finishes. "You have our crisis, and you have our reasons for why we can't solve it ourselves. It seems you're the only one who can help us. I don't feel good about asking a total stranger to venture into a mountain full of Tainted on our behalf… but I don't really have a choice." He looks at you, his grey eyes tired and unhappy. "Will you help us, <<c rank>> <<c firstname>>?" If all of this is true, you don't really see how you could refuse—especially if this plague isn't as <i>natural</i> as it seems. <<nobr>><<if $demontalk is true>> You are duty-bound to answer to and investigate anything that might smell of demons… and from what you've heard, this seems to fit the bill. <</if>><</nobr>> <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Besides, this sounds academically-interesting. You want to conduct your own research into this plague.' 'you4nod'>><<setintelligence +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Besides, you\'d want to help these people even if you weren\'t a Shepherd.' 'you4nod'>><<setcompassionate +5>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Besides, the Autarch sent you here specifically to help. You wouldn\'t want to risk her ire by refusing.' 'you4nod'>><<setcunning +3>><<setcourage -3>><<setloyal +2>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Besides, maybe you\'ll get a reward out of it: at the very least, a reputation boost for single-handedly saving the Hunters.' 'you4nod'>><<setcharisma +1>><<setcunning +2>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Besides, a chance to explore an entire mountain full of Tainted? You want to go where no one else has gone before.' 'you4nod'>><<setcourage +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Besides, you\'d like to make a good impression on Halek. He seems like a powerful person to befriend.' 'you4nod'>><<sethalek +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Besides, you\'re curious about this lachryma. Could it have saved your mother, when she was sick?...' 'you4nod'>><<setintelligence +1>><<setloyal -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

You nod. "I'll do it," you begin. But before you can go further, someone else enters the sanctum. You watch as Naolin turns slightly, wary, but it's only Moonsilk. She walks confidently forward—though it's really more of a glide—before she pauses, taking in the sight of you and Halek standing before the mural. Then she says, her tone neutral: "You are asking $them to go to the Cave of Many Mouths?" Halek looks reluctant to speak, but he answers, "Yes." Moonsilk looks at you. "That is good," she says slowly, "because you will need to go, regardless. That is, if you want your Commander to live." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"...Is that a threat?"' 'he4has'>><<setcompassionate -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Is he all right?"' 'he4has'>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Where is he? Can I see him?"' 'he4has'>><<setblade +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

"He has the Wildfire Fever," Moonsilk says tranquilly. She brushes aside her curtain-fall of pale hair. "And no, you may not see him. He is still in the early stages, but the Fever is very contagious. I wouldn't risk it. He's resting peacefully now." "Did he say anything?" Moonsilk shrugs. "Not to me. But I'm sure he doesn't want to die." She tilts her head at you, gauging you and your reaction. <<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 15>> "Are you lovers?" <br><br> "Moonsilk," Halek raps out. "Stop." <br><br> She shrugs. "As you wish." She looks down at her bare feet. <</if>><</nobr>> "You can see him when you've come back with the lachryma." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'You feel a pang of dread. Blade is really sick? "Will he be all right if I leave?"' 'youfeel4a'>><</link>><<setblade +1>></li> <li><<link 'You nod, determined. "I\'ll bring back enough lachryma to save them all."' 'halek4looks'>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'You frown. You can\'t exactly leave your commander to die... "I guess I have to go, then."' 'halek4looks'>><<setloyal +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'You sigh. "This had better not be a wild goose chase."' 'you4sigh'>><<setcompassionate -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Moonsilk makes a gesture like a shrug. "I will keep him alive," she says. "But you'd better not take too long." <<include "halek4looks">>

Moonsilk makes a vague gesture. "I hope so, for your sake… or otherwise your commander is as doomed as the rest of us." <<include "halek4looks">>

Halek looks at you, grim. "There you have it," he says heavily. "When you're ready, Naolin and I will take you there." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "halek4looksi">><</link>></center>

After some preparations, the two twins take their elk and guide you to the entrance of the Cave of Many Mouths. It's a few hours away from the Reach, amidst desolate peaks and cliffs just like the rest of the Shield Peaks, so by the time you begin the climb up, the sun is already beginning to drown in a cloudy sea of orange and blue. The wind, if it's even possible, intensifies so that every bit of exposed skin becomes covered in icy crystals and stings fiercely with the cold. You lope alongside Halek and Naolin on your ahfuri, but none of you can quite summon the strength to speak. After some time, you manage to rally. Will you make conversation before you reach the cave? <<include "halekask">>

<<nobr>><<if $halektimer gt 0>> <<include "halekask1">> <<elseif $halektimer is 0>> <br> <<include "arrivalmanymouths">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<ul class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("ask4about")>><<link '<div class="question-item">Ask about the twins\' silver weapons.</div>' 'ask4about'>><<set $halektimer -= 1>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("ask4scars")>><<link '<div class="question-item">Ask about the scars on their right hands.</div>' 'ask4scars'>><<set $halektimer -= 1>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("ask4relationship")>><<link '<div class="question-item">Ask about their relationship with each other.</div>' 'ask4relationship'>><<set $halektimer -= 1>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("ask4moonsilk")>><<link '<div class="question-item">Ask about Moonsilk.</div>' 'ask4moonsilk'>><<set $halektimer -= 1>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link 'Hold your silence. You need to save your strength for the journey into the cave.' 'arrivalmanymouths'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Halek carries a long, silver-bladed spear strapped across his back, and Naolin that strange silver knife at his hip. What's more interesting is that they also carry plainer, more mundane weapons: these silver ones are clearly special. "What, our <i>hraqa</i>?" Halek casts a lazy glance backwards at his spear when you ask about it. "They're our Hunter weapons, like an extension of ourselves, our souls. We can channel our powers—we call it grace—through them. We can do it with other weapons in a pinch, too, but it works much better with our <i>hraqa</i>." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Can I see?" There are those Hunter runes carved into the shaft of his.' 'cani4see'>><<setcourage +1>><<setintelligence +1>><<setcunning -1>><<setcharisma -1>><</link>></li> <<if $heritage is "Hunter">><<heritage '"Do all Hunters carry <i>hraqa</i>?" Your parents never did.' 'doall4hunters'>><</if>> <<if $heritage is not "Hunter">><li><<link '"Do all Hunters carry them?"' 'dohunters4all'>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link '"How do you receive them?"' 'howdo4you'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Halek doesn't answer immediately, so it's Naolin who interjects. "That would be a great insult, <<c rank>>," he says, though his voice is polite and gentle. "In our culture, our <i>hraqa</i> are extremely personal and individual to us. It's a sacred bond, a manifestation of our very beings. To touch someone else's <i>hraqa</i> is considered extremely intimate, in some cases even violative—like touching a part of someone's soul. Even Hunters fighting each other to the death won't touch each other's <i>hraqa</i>." "It's not personal," Halek finishes. "It's not just a weapon, but the vessel that we channel our grace—thought to be our very spirits—through. That's why we don't typically let others handle them. It's too… vulnerable. It doesn't feel right." <<include "halekask">>

Halek shakes his head. "Only initiated Hunters," he says. "Those who have been through the rites of passage, who have been marked and certified as trained exorcists. We call them <i>nara</i>." Naolin casts you an interested glance. "I'm guessing your parents weren't nara." You shake your head. "They were farmers. Migrants, after the Uprising." Naolin makes a noise of sympathy. "That's a pity. The Autarch has laid low so many good Hunters." "Farming," Halek says then, pointedly, "is just as noble and necessary a pursuit as demon-killing is. We need both to survive." Naolin arches a brow, clearly a bit surprised by this comment, but he seems embarrassed by his gaffe and holds his peace. <<include "halekask">>

"We choose them when we're young children," Halek says. "They let us into the armory and let us have our pick of the room. It's said our souls are drawn to the right weapon. I hear the Ket say something similar about their swords." <<include "halekask">>

Both twins sport a sun-shaped scar on the backs of their right hands. The scars seem colored with faded red ink so as to appear new, rather than faded with time. "This?" Halek taps the back of his hand. "That's our <i>matha</i>. It's the symbol marking us as trained and initiated exorcists, certified among our kind to hunt and cleanse the earth of demons. You get it when you survive the rite of passage to enter the <i>nara</i>, or the White Order. The order of exorcists. Sometimes called the Order of Heaven, among outsiders." "It's a great honor to receive your <i>matha</i>," Naolin adds sagely. "Among our kind, anyone who has one is treated with the highest respect." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Rite of passage?"' 'right4of'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Did it hurt to receive it?"' 'did4it'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Halek grunts. "When you're fifteen," he says, "the sol of your clan or city sends the lot of you out into the wilderness. In the winter, alone. Each of you is supposed to cross the mountains, either into the Waste or the Realm-of-Ghosts, and kill a Tainted or an Endarkened on your own. Then you're expected to drag its carcass back, or some other irrefutable proof of its death, all the way home by spring. All while surviving the winter, not starving or dying of sickness, and trekking through the most desolate wastelands known on earth." It's clear from his tone that he doesn't approve of this particular ritual. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"So the two of you had to do your rites separately?"' 'sothe4two'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"How many young Hunters die during this rite of passage?"' 'how4many'>><<sethalek +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"What did you kill?"' 'what4didyoukill'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"If you\'re sol, can\'t you get rid of this tradition?"' 'ifyoure4sol'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Naolin nods. "It was the first time we'd been separated for any significant length of time," he says, glancing at Halek, who's gone quiet. "I remember, for the first week or so, it was very freeing. Then I missed him terribly." He smiles. "I was back before him. He didn't come home until the very last day of winter. Some people thought he'd died, but I knew better. If he didn't come home, it was because he'd run away." "I could never leave you behind, brother dearest," Halek answers sardonically. He meets your eye. "I was just the slower one. I always have been. I like to take my time with things." "Sometimes to the detriment of being sol," Naolin says, with mock-severity. <<include "halekask">>

"Far too many," Halek answers. "At least half. It's a waste of our blood, considering…" "Halek," Naolin says then, sharply. Halek rolls his eyes. "My sola will kill me if I say more." <<include "halekask">>

"We both killed Endarkened," Naolin says, when Halek doesn't answer. "I killed a Revenant, and he a Cacophant. As much as he criticizes, he wouldn't settle for less." "That's because if I came back hauling an Imp, Father would have lost a lot of money," Halek answers sardonically. "He bet on us—maybe I should have done it just to spite him." <<include "halekask">>

Halek snorts. "I wish," he answers. "Being sol has less power than you think." <<include "halekask">>

"It did hurt, but it wasn't the worst thing I've suffered," he answers. Then he glances at Naolin. "My baby brother, on the other hand, cried his eyes out." "That is a lie, <<c rank>> <<c firstname>>," Naolin says with great dignity. "I did not cry." "Not in public. At home, though…" "Stop telling the <<print $rank.toLowerCase()>> lies!" "I thought a sol couldn't lie?" "No one says that." "Ah." <<include "halekask">>

The two of them seem to get along generally, but surely their positions as sol and sola must put strain on the relationship? "Halek, you're chieftain of your people, and Naolin, you're protector of the chieftain—but you're only a few minutes apart in age. Does that affect your relationship as brothers? Having to treat each other as superior or… inferior?" Halek glances at Naolin. "No more than any other working relationship between siblings, I would think," he drawls. "He drives me mad when he chases me down and nags me into doing one thing or another…" "And he drives me mad by making my job harder," Naolin sighs. "But we rarely argue, if that's what you're asking." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Where are your parents?"' 'where4are'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I wish I had siblings."' 'iwish4siblings'>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

"Our mother's one of those who are sick," Naolin tells you quietly. "Our father passed away last year. It was his time." "The Hunters, if you weren't aware, tend to die very young," Halek drawls then. "Another little gift Narthax gave us. Shortened lifespans in return for the power to slay demons. It's a good thing the demons actually came back, or otherwise people might have wisened up and started getting very angry at the gods." Naolin looks scandalized. "You are such a blasphemer." "I try." <<include "halekask">>

Naolin glances at you sympathetically. "Most Hunter children don't," he says. "Our family was blessed." "You're an only child, <<c firstname>>?" Halek asks then. You nod. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"The closest I ever had was my childhood friend... Zori."' 'neither4brother'>><</link>></li> <<if $cainesafe is true or $bothsafe is true>><li><<link '"I have something of a little brother now. Caine."' 'neither4brother'>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link '"But it\'s all right. I have a new family now. The Shepherds."' 'neither4brother'>><<setloyal +1>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'ve always been alone."' 'neither4brother'>><<setloyal -5>><</link>></li> </ul>

Neither brother seems to know what to say to that. "Ah," Naolin says, awkwardly. Halek says nothing at all, only blinks at you with slow, languid eyes. <<include "halekask">>

"So Moonsilk is your betrothed?" You catch a huff of breath from Naolin, possibly amused, and a twitching of Halek's shoulders: from his stiff seat on his elk, it's clear he's reluctant to broach this topic. "Yes?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"She\'s very beautiful."' 'shes4verybeautiful'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"She\'s a bit... strange."' 'shes4abitstrange'>><<sethalek +1>><<setcourage +1>><<setcharisma -1>><</link>></li> <<if $attractedto is not "women">><li><<link '"It\'s a pity. If only you were single..." <b>[FLIRT]</b>' 'itsa4pity'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li><</if>> </ul>

"Yes," Halek says after a moment, sounding bored by the topic. "I suppose she is." <<include "halekengaged">>

Now it's Halek who snorts in amusement. "That's one way of putting it," he says. "But don't worry, I agree. I think it's all a mask, though. She likes to come off as mysterious and ethereal to throw people off, get them to let their guard down. But in truth I think she is simply… cunning. Conniving might be a better word for it." "You don't like her?" "On the contrary," Halek says. "She scares the living daylights out of me." <<include "halekengaged">>

Naolin's eyes widen, but Halek looks wholly unaffected by your bold flirtation. "I agree," he says, covering a yawn with the back of his hand. "But, alas, some things are not in my control." <<include "halekengaged">>

"She has powerful connections," Naolin says then, as if to remind his brother of this fact. "Moonsilk is the scion of one of the most prestigious Hunter clans in the Reach." <ul class="choices"> <<if $cunning gte 25 or $intelligence gte 30>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"So is that why you\'re betrothed to her? It\'s a political arrangement?"</div>' 'sois4thatbetrothed'>><</link>><<else>><<disabled '"So is that why you\'re betrothed to her? It\'s a political arrangement?"'>><</if>> <li><<link '"When did you become engaged?"' 'when4engaged'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"How did you meet?"' 'how4meet'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"That\'s a strange name, isn\'t it? Moonsilk?"' 'thats4strangename'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Halek nods. "You might know this, but Hunter blood is… fickle," he says. "The exorcist powers don't manifest unless the child is one-hundred percent pure-blooded. The white hair, too." <<nobr>><<if $heritage is "Hunter">> His eyes flick to the white streak in your hair, then away. <<else>> His elk snorts, and Halek pauses to settle it. <</if>><</nobr>> "That means Hunter marriages, if the goal is to produce children to preserve the bloodline and the grace of both families, are a very orchestrated affair. At least among the leadership. And the number of pure-blooded Hunters dwindles every year. That means our choices are… very limited." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Why don\'t you just marry for love?"' 'why4dont'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Why can\'t Naolin marry her, then? Your blood is the same."' 'why4cant'>><<sethalek +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You won\'t be happy with her."' 'you4wont'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Oh, I see."' 'oh4isee'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Halek snorts. "You don't have the luxury when you're sol," he says. "Or the object of a prophecy that proclaims you'll lead your people to salvation. They don't tend to let messiahs marry anyone willy-nilly." His voice drips with sarcasm as he says this, but you sense it's not really directed at you. <<include "halekask">>

Naolin makes a face while Halek laughs, a little bitterly. "I thought of that a long time ago," he said. "He won't hear of it." "Sola are not allowed to marry until after their sols do," Naolin says, "to ensure our priorities are always on our sol and not on our own families. Besides that, if Halek gets to be leader, he has to accept the responsibilities that come with being leader. It can't be all benefits with no consequences." "There are <i>no</i> benefits," Halek says, "and I never asked for it. Besides, don't act all holier-than-thou—you like her even less than I do." "I don't know what you're talking about," Naolin says, perfectly polite. <<include "halekask">>

"Oh, I know," Halek says. "But they never said a sol's duty was to be happy." <<include "halekask">>

Halek hums lightly. "Yep." <<include "halekask">>

"Five years ago," Halek drawls. "By all rights we should have a litter of little Hunters by now." "It's thanks to my brother's procrastination that it's gone on so long," Naolin butts in dryly. "He'd be turning the elder council's hair grey if it weren't already white." "Procrastination? My dear brother, the way I've forestalled this wedding is an <i>art</i>. I've used everything at my disposal, threats, bribery, persuasion, blackmail…" "When will you finally give in, then?" you ask him. Halek shrugs, looking indifferent. "When I have no choice—or the fight's gone out of me, and I simply don't care to struggle any longer." <<include "halekask">>

"We didn't," Halek says, "until after we were already engaged. My father announced it on our birthday, without my consent." "That's not true," Naolin butts in. "We met her when we were seventeen, Halek. Remember? When her tribe's elders made a diplomatic visit?" "Did we? I don't remember anything past what I had for breakfast this morning. I think I spent most of that year napping in the fields." "Our great leader," Naolin says to you drolly. <<include "halekask">>

"It's a translated name," Naolin says. "Localized, I mean, or Commonized—like our last name, Prince. In the Hunter tongue it's pronounced differently, means something else, but a very long time ago, that was what our clan was known as to others, and for whatever reason, we stuck with it. Moonsilk's like that: her true Hunter name is Gwydamnak or something, but… Moonsilk is… the translated version, and admittedly prettier." "You know a lot about my fiancèe, brother," Halek remarks idly then. "I had no idea her name was <i>Gwydamnak</i>." Naolin sniffs. "It's a sola's duty to know these things, <i>diru</i>." "Yes, yes. Remind me to use that as ammunition the next time she's being insufferable." <<include "halekask">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "manymouths">><</link>></center>

Finally, Halek signals that you've arrived at your destination. There are no signs, certainly no structures to mark the way, so it's hard to know exactly how he is able to pinpoint the lachryma cave's location. But sure enough, it's there: little more than a small, dark wrinkle in the rock, barely big enough for a single person to squeeze through. Naolin and Halek keep well back from the entrance of the cave, their nostrils flaring as their elk prance uneasily. "The Ghasts are underground," Halek explains tightly, "but we don't want to take the chance that we might catch wind of one of them. We'll stay here until you get back." Naolin slips off his elk and begins to hand you an oiled torch, but Halek says sharply, "I don't think that will do you much good. The Ghasts are blind, but their senses of hearing and smell are likely quite good—they'd smell the smoke from miles away." "It's fine," you say, waving Naolin off. A magic spell like a mage-orb or witchlight is the easiest thing a Mage can achieve, almost as easy as thought itself—and it doesn't leave a scent or smoke. You'll be able to light the way yourself. The two brothers load you up with a wealth of other supplies, including jerked meat and canteens of water. Halek told you on the way over all the details you would need to know regarding the lachryma, including how long it should take you to reach it—about four hours at a steady pace—and what paths he knew you should avoid. However, he says, his information is fragmented, and it has been over a thousand years since anyone mapped the place last—the earth may have shifted, and you might have to backtrack and try again and again. Luckily, you'll know when you're getting close to the source of the spring (<i>if it exists at all</i>, the uneasy voice in your mind whispers): Halek read several legends of the moss turning luminous and sparkling in the caves around the lachryma, so you should be able to know exactly when you're about to reach it. Finally, he hands you some thread to find your way back if need be. It reminds you of a story you'd heard, about a lost soul trapped in a labyrinth with a giant spider. "I can use magic to find my way back," you tell him, tucking the thread away in your pocket. Halek nods gravely. "I know," he says. "But you never know." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "manymouthsi">><</link>></center>

The twins stand back as you pick your way across the slick, ice-covered rocks towards the crevice, steeling yourself for the journey within. It's hard to feel any sense of bravado as you consider spending hours scrabbling through the perilous dark, potentially running into blind, pale-skinned demonspawn all on your own. <<nobr>><<if $courage gt $intelligence>> <<set $traitee to "courage">> <<else>> <<set $traitee to "wits">> <</if>> <<if $cunning gt $charisma>> <<set $traitee2 to "resourcefulness">> <<else>> <<set $traitee2 to "intuition">> <</if>><</nobr>> But you take a breath. You have tools to help you, and your own $traitee and $traitee2. Probably more importantly, you're the only chance the Hunters have at the moment. You can't afford to fail. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "manymouthsii">><</link>></center>

You look back once at Halek and Naolin before you enter the cave, feeling the icy wind tear and bite at your face. Night is falling, so the two brothers look like grave and silent sentinels—monoliths carved of rock—guarding the entrance to someone's tomb. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"If I don\'t make it back... pass along a message for me to someone, will you?"' 'ifi4dont'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Don\'t you dare leave this spot without me."' 'dontyou4dare'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I expect a hot meal and bath when I return."' 'iexpect4a'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Trust me. I\'ll come back with the lachryma."' 'trustme4ill'>><<sethalek +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Goodbye."' 'manymouthsiii'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Say nothing and enter the cave.' 'manymouthsiii'>><</link>></li> </ul>

"Tell <<cycle "_someone" autoselect>> <<option "Blade">> <<option "Trouble">> <<option "Tallys">> <<option "Shery">> <<option "Riel">> <<option "Chase">> <<option "Red">> <<option "Ayla">> <</cycle>>..." <br><br> <<include "but4thewords">>

But then the words fail you, or otherwise get stuck somewhere in your chest. So you just shake your head when Halek sends you a quizzical look and turn back to the cave. "Never mind." <<include "manymouthsiii">>

Halek nods. "We won't. I swear it." <<include "manymouthsiii">>

The ghost of a smile touches Halek's lips. "Of course." <<include "manymouthsiii">>

The ghost of a smile touches Halek's lips, and he exchanges glances with Naolin, who looks vaguely hopeful. "Thank you," the chieftain says sincerely, though so quiet you can barely hear him over the frigid wind. "For everything, <<c firstname>>." <<include "manymouthsiii">>

And with that, you are forcing your body sideways through the crevice, squeezing, squeezing yourself through… For one brief moment, it feels as if the bare rock digs into you with punishing force, as if it's going to crush your torso, collapse the wall of your chest… <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>But then you\'re in.</span></div></div>' "manymouthsiv">><</link>></center>

Outside, the wind howls and shrieks eerily, currents of air blasting against you this way and that. Exactly as if it were a cave of many mouths. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "manymouthsv">><</link>></center>

The space you've made your way into is tight and small and dark, though from the moonlight trickling through the crevice behind you, you can faintly make out the contours of the little antechamber. It's dry and empty, and feels more like a small pocket of air, and ahead of you lies the mouth of a deeper, darker tunnel, just big enough for you to stand in. Warm, moist air rises out of this tunnel, as if it's a gullet leading to some alien stomach. Unnervingly, the sides of this passage are smooth, as if the product of construction rather than a natural formation in the earth. You light a small, golden mage-orb that hovers cheerily in the air before you, seeming to fight back the curtain of darkness for you. You breathe a small sigh of relief, then press on. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "manymouthsvi">><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<if settings.music is true>><<audio "cave" volume 0 loop fadeoverto 30 0.1>><</if>><</nobr>> The natural light from outside the cave fades rapidly behind you as you descend into the belly of the earth. The slope is not so steep that you might lose your footing, but you certainly feel yourself climbing deeper and deeper below the surface. All around you, the air is still, warm, and a little musty: there is no sound save for your quiet footsteps on the rock and the occasional drip of some stalactite somewhere. You hold your ball of light up cautiously, and strain your eyes and senses to reach down the tunnel ahead of you, but again, you hear and sense nothing. Not even a bat. The cave system here is more of a highway than a winding fissure in the earth, straight and narrow; but if it's been used recently, it's impossible to tell, as you can't make out anything on the dim rock. Deeper and deeper you go. At first the path is simple enough to follow, as there's only one way for you to travel, but eventually you reach a fork in the road, more of a hub, with many "spokes" or tunnels branching out from the center of it. Still no sound—and luckily, Halek told you which of these to take. You pin a location spell to the wall of the hub, so that you'll be able to find your way back to it, as one end of a magnet finds the other. Then deeper and deeper you go. Eventually you reach another fork, and this one is not one that Halek described. There are only two branches here, one with cooler, fresher air, and the other with the same warm, humid air. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'I take the left tunnel, with the cool air.' 'manymouthsvii'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'I take the right tunnel, with the warm air.' 'manymouthsvii'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Nothing but unremitting darkness, and the roof of the tunnel stretching out above you. Here and there you spy little white clusters of mushrooms poking out of the ground, which is turning to black earth now, or the viper-quick dart of some centipede scuttling away from your light. But no Ghasts. It has been a thousand years since anyone's seen them, you think to yourself. Perhaps they're all dead? Your arm becomes tired from holding aloft the light, so you relax it and let the orb float ahead of you, illuminating the way with a gentle golden warmth. Minutes trickle by—maybe hours. You become almost sleepy, treading ceaselessly through the warm earth. After a while it feels as if you've worn tracks in the rock—as if you've been marching steadily downward for so long you might reach the very center of the earth itself. The air grows damper and stuffier, so that you wonder if a vast flame truly lies at the heart of the world, heating the air around you. You reach another fork. No sign of any glowing moss, yet. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Follow the warm air.' 'manymouthsviii'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Follow the cool air.' 'manymouthsviii'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Among the things Halek gave you is a timepiece, to keep track of your progress. Do you want to check it? <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Sure, why not?' 'sure4why'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'No, doing so will only make me more impatient.' 'manymouthsix'>><</link>></li> </ul>

You glance at the timepiece, which informs you that two and a half hours have passed. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Wow, already? That was quicker than you thought.' 'manymouthsix'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Over halfway there. You\'ve got this.' 'manymouthsix'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Only two hours?! This is going to be wretched.' 'manymouthsix'>><</link>></li> </ul>

An indeterminate amount of time passes after the thought occurred to you. Then more time. Then more time. Another fork in the tunnels. You could swear you'd passed this one already; that cluster of mushrooms looks exactly the same. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Take the right one.' 'manymouthsx'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Take the left one.' 'manymouthsx'>><</link>></li> </ul>

<<nobr>><<if settings.music is true>><<audio "cave" fadeoverto 10 0.05>><</if>><</nobr>>The air is starting to feel the same to you, regardless, wet and soupy. And somehow, it's becoming even quieter the more you descend beneath the surface of the earth. The outside air is slowly easing; the silence is so thick and oppressive you almost feel as if you're swallowing it. You can almost hear the sweat trickling off of you, droplets crawling down your back like insects. Then, suddenly, you notice something strange happening. Your mage-orb starts to sputter. Alarmed, you reach for it with your mind and magic, but the light feels… cut off from you somehow, as if there is a physical wall between you and it. It's as if you went to move your hand, only to find it so utterly asleep that you couldn't even feel it. The light dwindles, against your control… And then goes out, leaving you in utter darkness. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>What?</span></div></div>' "manymouthsxi">><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<if settings.music is true>><<audio ":playing" fadeoverto 5 0>><</if>><</nobr>>You’ve reached the end of the Shepherds of Haven public demo—thank you for playing! To stay updated on new features, announcements, and full release plans, feel free to sign up for the newsletter, follow Shepherds on Tumblr, or support the game on Patreon! <span class="fancylist"> * <a href="https://www.patreon.com/rinari">Patreon</a> * <a href="https://www.shepherdsofhaven.com/">Tumblr</a> * <a href="https://discord.com/invite/Q8U86fe">Discord</a> * <a href="https://dashboard.mailerlite.com/forms/1347248/147084601884411238/share">Newsletter</a> * <a href="https://linktr.ee/manifoldstudios">Linktree</a> * <a href="https://forms.gle/tHMbqXwKsypXfAu6A">Bug Reports</a> </span>

<<if settings.music is true>><<audio ":playing" fadeout>><<audio "recovery" volume 0.1 play>><</if>> <<fadein 10s>> <<fadeout 5s 8s>><div class="chapterlogo"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/logos/chaptercroplogo.png" alt="Shepherds of Haven"><center><span class="chapterglow">Chapter Five</span></center></div><</fadeout>> <</fadein>> <<timed 13s>><<goto "chapter5begin">><</timed>><span class="next">[[Next|chapter5begin]]</span> <<set $haveweapon to false>> <<set $fairybread to "">> <<set $wintersun to "">> <<set $knowstormbreakername to false>>

<<if $savemekduk is false>> <<include "chapter5regular">> <<else>> <<include "recuperatinglonger">> <</if>>

<span class="splash">Some Time Later</span><span class="splashblur"></span>You spend almost a week recuperating in bed after your ordeals in the Cave of Many Mouths. Blade, his recovery accelerated by the return of his arma, <<nobr>><<if $blade gte 65>> comes to keep you company constantly, <<else>> checks in on you often, <</if>> and even Halek and Naolin sit and play card games with you when they're not busy organizing things in the Reach, which is exploding with life again now that Buubas has <<if $buubasdead is true>>been eradicated for good. <<else>> been banished back to Hael. <</if>> <</nobr>> At some point, they also inform you that the Cave of Many Mouths has been flooded, and the thoret sealed away from the outside world forever. You nod slowly, staring sightlessly down at your cards. <ul class="choices"> <<fake_choice '"That\'s good. Let\'s hope that\'s enough to lock away the threat for good."' 'itwastherightdecision5'>> <<fake_choice '"I hope Mekduk is all right..."' 'halekandnaolinexchange'>> <<fake_choice '"Do you think it killed all of the Ghasts, too?"' 'doyouthinkitkilledall'>> <<fake_choice '"Good riddance. The things we saw down there... the prisoners they must have held captive and sacrificed to that shrine? A cleansing flood was just what the place needed."' 'itwastherightdecision5'>> </ul>

Halek and Naolin exchange glances, while Blade says in his usual stiff way, attempting to be kind: "I'm sure she is. She knew to heed your warning, and you gave her plenty of supplies. Once we cleared Buubas from her path, she would have made her way into those upper caverns and made a new home for herself. The flood probably had the added benefit of wiping out the other Ghasts, or at least sealing them off from being able to reach her. Without being hunted by them constantly, her existence down there might even be easier." <<include "itwastherightdecision5">>

Naolin taps his fingers against the table thoughtfully. "I would think so. Maybe not <i>all</i>, but a large number—and the few that remained will be pushed deeper into the mountain. It wouldn't surprise me if we were to never see another one of them again." <<page_break "Next" "recuperating5more">>

"It was the right decision, going back down there," Halek adds, watching you carefully. "I'm glad we listened to you." You look thoughtfully down at your hands, now clean and unblemished by Buubas's plague. "<i>I'm</i> glad that you brought that lachryma with you. If you hadn't, we'd all be dead." Halek nods, his expression now grim. "Too true. And now that the last of it has been used or locked away as reserves, we'll just have to hope we don't have any need for it again." <<page_break "Next" "recuperating5more">>

Eventually you're up on your feet and back to normal again, and in the middle of the month, <<nobr>><<if $huntercure>> Uth Baryd throws you a celebration in the streets, a night of wild bonfires, dancing, drums, smoke, and singing. You barely remember it all, you're still so tired from your journey; but you do recall the smiling faces and shining white hair, the smell of smoking meat and the sharpness of the honeymead, and Halek and Naolin looking so pleased and content beside you. <<if $blade gte 70 or $bladeromanceflag gte 15>> The Hunters shower you and Blade with congratulations and thanks, though Blade curtly deflects the attention to you, claiming you're the one who deserves the praise. <<if $bladeromanceflag gte 15>> And when his dark eyes meet yours across the firepits, one side of his mouth lifts in a smile that seems reserved only for you. <</if>> <</if>> <br><br> Many adults and children try to press gifts into your hands, as well: garlands of tiny snowflowers are strung around your neck, several families eagerly offer you handmade sticks of incense and scented candles, a few warriors offer you flasks of bone-warming mead and mulled wine—"not that you can drink it," Halek says with a wink—and one elderly woman even shoves an incredible cream-colored vase filled with lush black and white flowers into your arms, shrieking in indignation when you try to pass it back. <br><br> Naolin even gives you a smooth, polished shard of white stone, which he says is a piece broken off from the Mornhaven Gate itself. "May it protect you and my brother always," he says, closing your fingers around the fragment. <br><br> The night passes by in a whirl of fire shadows, singing, and laughter. <br><br> <<include "ch5beginningii">> <<else>> you make your preparations to return to Haven. <br><br> <<include "leaving">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<span class="splash">Some Time Later</span><span class="splashblur"></span>You spend some time recuperating, as does the rest of the Reach. In the wake of your trek to the Cave of Many Mouths, the Hunter population rapidly becomes healthy once again, and in the middle of the month, <<nobr>><<if $huntercure is true>> they throw you a celebration in the streets, a night of wild bonfires, dancing, drums, smoke, and singing. You barely remember it all, you're still so tired from your journey; but you do recall the smiling faces and shining white hair, the smell of smoking meat and the sharpness of the honeymead, and Halek and Naolin looking so pleased and content beside you. <<if $blade gte 70 or $bladeromanceflag gte 15>> The Hunters shower you and Blade with congratulations and thanks, though Blade curtly deflects the attention to you, claiming you're the one who deserves the praise. <<if $bladeromanceflag gte 15>> And when his dark eyes meet yours across the firepits, one side of his mouth lifts in a smile that seems reserved only for you. <</if>> <</if>> <br><br> Many adults and children try to press gifts into your hands, as well: garlands of tiny snowflowers are strung around your neck, several families eagerly offer you handmade sticks of incense and scented candles, a few warriors offer you flasks of bone-warming mead and mulled wine—"not that you can drink it," Halek says with a wink—and one elderly woman even shoves an incredible cream-colored vase filled with lush black and white flowers into your arms, shrieking in indignation when you try to pass it back. <br><br> Naolin even gives you a smooth, polished shard of white stone, which he says is a piece broken off from the Mornhaven Gate itself. "May it protect you and my brother always," he says, closing your fingers around the fragment. <br><br> The night passes by in a whirl of fire shadows, singing, and laughter. <br><br> <<include "ch5beginningii">> <<else>> you make your preparations to return to Haven. <br><br> <<include "leaving">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $heritage is "Hunter">> You also receive quite a lot of attention for the streak of white in your hair, now that the majority of Uth Baryd is up and able to notice it. Strong Hunter mothers coo and fuss over you, and children point in fascination. <br><br> "That's a sign of blessing from the gods, child," one wisewoman tells you sagely. "The kiss of Narthax, we call it. You may not be full Hunter, but the blood runs strong within you." <br><br> You touch your hair. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I always felt strange about it, in Maj..."' 'scornful'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I always knew it was something to be treasured."' 'grateful'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"This is nothing. It\'s just a genetic quirk."' 'scornful'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Thank you."' 'grateful'>><</link>></li> </ul> <<else>> <<include "recuperating">> <</if>><</nobr>>

She makes a scornful noise. "Your parents did you wrong, child," she says. "Keeping you from your heritage, not teaching you about our culture. Maybe they thought they were helping you, helping you adapt to the Autarchy." She spits. "Rubbish. That's a gift, treasure, and it should be treated as such." <<include "recuperating">>

She nods wisely. "I hope your parents did right by you, child," she says. "It's not right to keep one from their culture, their heritage. Maybe they thought they were helping you, easing the pain of adapting to the Autarchy… Bah." She spits. "I'm glad you listened to your instincts. That there's something precious. Wear it with pride." <<include "recuperating">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "recuperatingi">><</link>></center>

During your period of recuperation, you spend some time… <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '...reading through the Hunters\' annals on demon-hunting.' 'readinghunterannals'>><<setintelligence +3>><<setloyal +5>><<setmagic +3>><<setstrength +1>><</link>></li> <<if $heritage is "Hunter">><<link '<div class="heritage-item">...learning more about your Hunter heritage.</div>' 'learninghunterheritage'>><<set $hunterheritage to true>><<setintelligence +3>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link '...exploring the city with Blade.' 'exploringcitywithblade'>><<setblade +3>><<if $gender is "female">><<set $bladeromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link '...resting in the palace with Halek and Naolin.' 'restinginthepalaceiwthhalek'>><<sethalek +3>><</link>></li> </ul>

It's protected knowledge, very rarely seen by outsiders: Halek refers to it as "jealously-guarded" and difficult to get ahold of even for Hunters. But the Hunters of the Reach can't deny you anything, not when you're the savior of their people. You spend several weeks hunting through ancient texts and scripts on the arts of exorcism and demon-slaying. <<include "recuperatingii">>

You walk through the streets, taking in the city, bustling with more white-haired Hunters than you've ever seen in one place. You spend evenings at the firesides of grateful townfolk, all of whom are clamoring for the honor of hosting you for a meal, and swapping stories and learning more about the culture of your parents. They regale you with legends about the hraqa, and Narthax, and heroes with names you can't pronounce who performed deeds that few ever learned about. The stories fill your head until your vision spins with them. <<include "recuperatingii">>

He's still recovering from his cold, and you from your arduous trek, so you make quite the sight, hobbling around together through Uth Baryd. It at least gives you the excuse to relax… although Blade still insists on training every day at dawn, unless one of the Hunter healers catches him and gives him an earful. You explore the famous rock gardens of the city, watch a kind of gladiator fight put on in the arena in your honor, and enjoy a broad sampling of Hunter foods and games. <<include "recuperatingii">>

Most of the time, you laze around eating sugared fruits and nuts, playing three-man games of gonen or triad, or reading by the fire or napping. Halek is indolent by nature and greedily uses the excuse to doze around; Naolin is less lazy, but is content to keep you company while you recover. It is all extremely restful, and you can't readily recall a time where you've felt more at peace. <<include "recuperatingii">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "recuperatingiii">><</link>></center>

Eventually, it's time for you to make your journey home to Haven. <<include "leaving">>

<<nobr>><<if settings.music is true>><<audio ":playing" fadeoverto 5 0>><</if>><</nobr>><<nobr>><<if $hunterjoin is true>> Halek gathers a company of twenty Black Shield Hunters to accompany your group back to the city: Naolin attempts to saddle him with more, resulting in an argument, but eventually it's decided that a score of elite Hunters would be the most helpful number. Too many would deplete the citadel's defenses, and such a large group would draw too much attention in Haven, so Naolin is forced to relent. For now. <<else>> Halek makes his preparations to leave with you. The Hunter council of elders voice their stringent protest, but they are eventually convinced that it is the will and destiny of their sol and messiah to go to Haven. Naolin hides his distress more discreetly, and when you depart from the Reach, it is as friends. <</if>> <<if $huntercure is true>> <br><br> "Thank you," Naolin says to you as he clasps your shoulder in the Hunter sign of peace and friendship. "For all that you've done; for saving our people. You're welcome here any time. They're already beginning to make tapestries of you to be hung in the Hall of Heroes someday." <<else>> <br><br> "Thank you," Naolin says to you, bowing politely. "For trying to help us." <</if>><</nobr>> He glances at his twin, who yawns. "Please look after my brother. If anything happens to him, we'd be lost." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Don\'t worry. We\'ll take care of him."' 'dontworrywelltakecareleaving'>><<sethalek +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"If he drives us crazy, can we send him back?"' 'ifhedrivesuscrazyleaving'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"No guarantees, but I\'ll do my best."' 'noguaranteesbutilldomybestleaving'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Halek can take care of himself."' 'halekcantakecareofselftwin'>><<sethalek +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Take care of yourself as well."' 'takecareyourselftwinleaving'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Naolin smiles. "I know. Thank you." <<include "leavingi">>

He snorts. "Please do." "I shall endeavor not to sour you with my odious presence," Halek drawls. <<include "leavingi">>

He smiles. "Thank you." <<include "leavingi">>

Naolin smiles. "I know. Still, it helps to know someone's looking out for him." <<include "leavingi">>

Naolin smiles. "I will. And remember—if you ever need us, the Hunters of the Reach are here." <<include "leavingi">>

Moonsilk, notably, does not come to see you off from the Reach. You're told Halek has been avoiding her ever since the "incident," but the two of them are still solidly-betrothed. You don't think anything can break that marriage pact, save the intervention of the gods themselves. <<nobr>><<if $blade gte 65>> But at the last moment, Blade nudges you silently and flicks his eyes towards a high window. You glance up and see a white-clad figure watching you, but it hurriedly retreats from your view as you depart. <<else>> You think you see a white-clad figure watching you from a high window as you depart, but you figure that's just a trick of light and snow. <</if>><</nobr>> Halek has the biggest smile on his face as you leave the citadel of Uth Baryd, last stronghold of the Hunters… and you think he'd whistle all the way back to Haven if you let him. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "leavingii">><</link>></center>

The journey back to the capital takes several sennights, though it's an uneventful (but icy) trek. By the time you make it back to the city, Leph has arrived, the month of wolves and howling winds. The dead of winter has descended on Haven, and the streets are still and blazing with cold by the time you finally trudge through Haven's gates. But despite your chilly surroundings, it's a warm greeting when you step back into the embrace of the Shepherds' compound. <<nobr>> <<friendshipcalc>> <<set _welcomeMessage = "">> <<set _hasGreeter = false>> <<if $tallyssex is true or $highestfriendship is "tallys" or $tallys gte 65>> <<set _welcomeMessage += "Tallys rushes forward ">> <<set _hasGreeter = true>> <<if $tallyssex is true>> <<set _welcomeMessage += "to kiss your cheek in relief, hugging you tightly">> <<else>> <<set _welcomeMessage += "to hug you tightly">> <</if>> <<if $troublehate is false>> <<set _welcomeMessage += ", followed by Trouble giving you a warm rough embrace">> <</if>> <<elseif ($highestfriendship is "blade" and $troublehate is false) or $highestfriendship is "trouble" or $trouble gte 75>> <<set _welcomeMessage += "Trouble engulfs you in a warm rough hug">> <<set _hasGreeter = true>> <<if $tallys gte 50>> <<set _welcomeMessage += ", followed by Tallys">> <</if>> <</if>> <<if $shery gte 45>> <<if _hasGreeter>> <<set _welcomeMessage += ", then Shery, who waves with shy happiness">> <<else>> <<set _welcomeMessage += "There's Shery, who waves with shy happiness">> <<set _hasGreeter = true>> <</if>> <</if>> <<if $cainesafe is true and $cainejoin is true>> <<if _hasGreeter>> <<set _welcomeMessage += ", then Caine, who tackles you and shouts \"I missed you!\"">> <<else>> <<set _welcomeMessage += "Caine tackles you and shouts \"I missed you!\"">> <<set _hasGreeter = true>> <</if>> <</if>> <<if _hasGreeter>> <<if _welcomeMessage.includes("I missed you!\"")>> <<set _welcomeMessage += " The rest of your companions gather to welcome you home.">> <<else>> <<set _welcomeMessage += ". The rest of your companions gather to welcome you home.">> <</if>> <<print _welcomeMessage>> <br><br> <</if>> <<include "welcomehome">> <</nobr>>

Chase, who's made it back before you, <<nobr>><<if $chase gte 50 or $chaseromanceflag gte 7>> ruffles your hair affectionately and says, <<else>> beams and says, <</if>><</nobr>> "You've got a whole crowd for your homecoming party." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>And you do.</span></div></div>' "welcomehomei">><<if $childrenquarantined is true>><<set $resources += 1>><<setreputation +8>><<set $shepherdgold += 100>><</if>><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<if $hunterjoin is true>> Along with the Hunters, there are the newly-arrived Circle-Mages and Red and Ayla; the Thieves Guild, who have relocated (at least in part) to your compound for the winter; and even Riel and some of his trusted aides have commandeered some offices in the building, to make his accelerating business with the Order easier to conduct. He's also decided to take it upon himself to overhaul the Order's organizational system, completely redoing how records, archives, and mission files are kept. Shery is over the moon with joy. <<else>> Along with Halek, there are the newly-arrived Circle-Mages and Red and Ayla; the Thieves Guild, who have relocated (at least in part) to your compound for the winter; and even Riel has commandeered some offices in the building, to make his business with the Order easier. He's also decided to take it upon himself to overhaul the Order's organizational system, completely redoing how records, archives, and mission files are kept. Shery is over the moon with joy. <</if>> <<if $childrenquarantined is true>> <br><br> You can't forget the children who were rescued from the Equalists, either, <<if $hunterjoin is true>> though the Hunters quickly vet them for demon infestations and send them home to their families just in time for the winter holiday, <<else>> though Halek methodically goes through and declares them clear of demon infestations, sending them home to their families, <</if>> <<if $cainejoin is true>> and, of course, Caine. <<else>> and, of course, everyone who was already at the Order before you joined. <</if>> <</if>><</nobr>> And even more recruits joined while you were away! "We're going to be accused of raising a veritable army within Haven's walls," Blade says dryly, looking around at the intense hustle and bustle of your headquarters. You look at your swelling numbers, how the once-cold halls have been transformed into a busy network of life and activity. "It wouldn't be a lie," you answer. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "welcomehomeii">><</link>></center>

There is a long period of settling back in, of adjusting to the Order's new numbers. Friendships are forged and new routines are developed as everyone adapts to the sudden influx of fresh Shepherds that you've received. Ayla and Trouble get on like long-lost siblings, though they also argue just as a brother and sister would; Red becomes acquainted with Riel, engaging in spirited intellectual discussions with him over games of chess in the evenings, while Tallys and Halek are content to quietly garden and cook together. And while you were gone, the friendships between Trouble and Chase and Riel and Shery seem to have solidified even further, and you often see the former two hassling Blade good-naturedly as he tries to conduct his business throughout the day. <<nobr>><<if $numberofhated is 0>> And, of course, there's a unique place for you in the fabric of things, as well. No one keeps it hidden how overjoyed the Order is to have you back in its ranks. Your evenings are filled and busy with all manner of people demanding your company and attention. And leisure time with <<c highestfriendship>>, along with many others, features heavily in your day-to-day life. <br><br> All the renewed attention and celebrity status surprises you. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'It\'s actually nice.' 'welcomehomeiii'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'It\'s flattering, but exhausting.' 'welcomehomeiii'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'It\'s everything I ever wished for.' 'welcomehomeiii'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'It\'s so lovely, it\'s a bit strange. And scary. Like it could all go away in an instant...' 'welcomehomeiii'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'It\'s annoying, but nothing can be done about it.' 'welcomehomeiii'>><</link>></li> </ul> <<else>> <<include "welcomehomeiii">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Jobs and positions are found, assigned, and filled for each and every new Mage, <<nobr>><<if $hunterjoin is true>> Hunter, <</if>><</nobr>> thief, merchant, and green recruit now joining the Order. And for your deeds in Capra and the Reach, everyone now looks to you with a newfound respect and even awe. <<nobr>><<if $circlemagejoin is true and $hunterjoin is true>> Some of the newer recruits even go shiny-eyed when you walk past them, and reverent whispers accompany you everywhere you go. <</if>><</nobr>> <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'You kind of like the celebrity and fame.' 'welcomehomeiv'>><<if $circlemagejoin is true and $hunterjoin is true>><<setreputation +5>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'You\'re eating the hero treatment up. It\'s about time!' 'welcomehomeiv'>><<if $circlemagejoin is true and $hunterjoin is true>><<setreputation +5>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'You\'re embarrassed by it all. You\'re just a Shepherd like any other.' 'welcomehomeiv'>><<if $circlemagejoin is true and $hunterjoin is true>><<setreputation +5>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'You quietly hate the new attention. You just want to exist in peace.' 'welcomehomeiv'>><<if $circlemagejoin is true and $hunterjoin is true>><<setreputation +5>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'You\'re a bit shy, but a bit proud of your accomplishments at the same time.' 'welcomehomeiv'>><<if $circlemagejoin is true and $hunterjoin is true>><<setreputation +5>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'You\'re indifferent to it all. You\'re just doing your job.' 'welcomehomeiv'>><<if $circlemagejoin is true and $hunterjoin is true>><<setreputation +5>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'All the praise makes you feel sick to your stomach. You\'d trade it all for a good night\'s sleep.' 'welcomehomeiiialt'>><<set $traumatized += 1>><<if $circlemagejoin is true and $hunterjoin is true>><<setreputation +5>><</if>><</link>></li> </ul>

You still have nightmares about what happened in the Phantom Shore and the Cave of Many Mouths… but not much can be done about that. Besides, you're used to bad dreams. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "welcomehomeiv">><</link>></center>

You take light missions within Haven and easy patrol shifts after your long circuit around the north part of the Continent. <<nobr>><<if $tangrielknow is true and $sherytime gte 2>> <<include "vivekclosure">> <<else>> <<include "dayoffs5">> <</if>><</nobr>>

You also find yourself contemplating the matter of what you found inside the mountain: not only the thoret, but also the body of Tangriel, the man who built the very walls that now shelter you. It seems that every time you walk down the corridors at night, or run your hands against the spell-warm stones, a shadow of him flickers at the corner of your eye. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Shery and Vivek would be interested to know what happened to him.' 'sheryvivek'>><<setshery +3>><<setcompassionate +3>><<if $tangrieljournal is true>><<setshery +3>><</if>><<if $tangrielmedallion is true>><<setshery +3>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'I\'ll keep the secret of his untimely demise to myself. Knowing his horrible fate won\'t help anyone.' 'illkeepsecretdemisevivek'>><</link>></li> </ul>

You try and put the ghost of Tangriel out of your mind. Talking about him with the others will just stir up more of the past, rather than letting it rest in peace. You say your farewells to Tangriel and thank him for your home. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "dayoffs5">><</link>></center>

You find Shery and tell her the whole story: how you fell inside the mountain, discovered Mekduk, and Tangriel's rotten bones. <<nobr>><<if $tangrieljournal is true>> She listens attentively, but looks skeptical until you produce his journal. Her mouth drops open, and she accepts the relic with great care and relevance. <<elseif $tangrielmedallion is true>> She listens attentively, but looks skeptical until you produce his medallion. Her mouth drops open, and she accepts the relic with great care and relevance. <<elseif $tangrielsring is true>> She listens attentively, but looks skeptical until you produce his ring. Her mouth drops open as she gazes at its $tangrielsringcolor fire. <</if>><</nobr>> "So he was experimenting with translocation," she murmurs, "just like Red is. But he wound up teleporting himself inside of a mountain full of thoret and couldn't magic himself back out. And the Ghasts… captured him… and this… Mekduk was placed in charge of keeping him alive. She grew fond of him, and let him go… only for him to fall and die at the bottom of a cliff?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"That about sums it up."' 'sheryviveki'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I know it sounds crazy, but I know what I saw."' 'sheryviveki'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"A sad way for him to go, wasn\'t it?"' 'sheryviveki'>><</link>></li> </ul>

She nods. "I believe you," Shery says gravely. <<nobr>><<if $tangrieljournal is true>> She looks sadly down at the journal. <<elseif $tangrielmedallion is true>> She looks sadly down at the medallion. <<elseif $tangrielsring is true>> She looks sadly down at the ring. <<else>> She sighs regretfully. <</if>><</nobr>> "He was a very great man, one of the most powerful Mages to have ever lived. We owe so much to him, his inventions…" She looks around at the walls. "Our home." <<nobr>><<if $tangrieljournal is true or $tangrielmedallion is true>> She takes a breath. "I'm going to display this—if that's all right with you—to, to honor Tangriel in some way. Keep his memory alive. It's the least I could do." Then she bites her lip. "And… I think we should tell Vivek. He in particular has always wondered what happened to his master. I think he deserves to know." <<else>> She takes a breath. "I'm going to… make a plaque, and hang it somewhere in the atrium. To honor Tangriel in some way, keep his memory alive. It's the least I could do." Then she bites her lip. "And… I think we should tell Vivek. He's always wondered what happened to his master. I think he deserves to know." <</if>><</nobr>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "sheryvivekii">><</link>></center>

So the two of you tell the whole story over again to the ugly gargoyle, who remains mercifully silent throughout your story. <<nobr>><<if $tangrieljournal is true>> When he demands proof of the truth, you show him Tangriel's journal, which shocks the guardian spirit into silence. <<elseif $tangrielmedallion is true>> When he demands proof of the truth, you show him Tangriel's medallion, which shocks the guardian spirit into silence. <<elseif $tangrielsring is true>> When he demands proof of the truth, you show him Tangriel's ring, which shocks the guardian spirit into silence. <</if>><</nobr>> "I knew he was dead," Vivek says finally, in a much smaller voice than you've ever heard him use. "Spirits always know when their masters leave this world; we're bound to them, you see. But I did not expect—I thought he would have had a nobler end." He falls silent for a long while. Shery says gently, "I know that Tangriel was the one who bound you to this statue, Vivek. Generally, he or someone of his blood would be the only ones who could release you from your… service. But so many of his things were left behind—I'm sure I could research, find some sort of solution, if you wanted—" "No," Vivek says then, harshly. Then he quiets, sounding almost contrite. "No. This form… is the only thing left I have of him. I will stay and guard his tower, as he commanded me. I do not wish to return to the great Sea of All Things." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Why not? Don\'t you want to be free?"' 'whynotvivekdontyouwanttobefree'>><<setloyal -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You loved him very much, didn\'t you, Vivek?"' 'youlovedhimverymuchvivek'>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setcharisma +1>><<setshery +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Well, I hope this gave you some closure, knowing exactly what happened."' 'wellihopethisgaveyouclosurevivek'>><<setshery +1>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"He abandoned you, left you here to rot. He doesn\'t deserve your loyalty."' 'heabandonedyouletyourotnoloyaltyvivek'>><<setloyal -1>><<setshery -1>><<setcompassionate -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

"No," Vivek says flatly. "Freedom is undoing for us. It is… forgetting, dissolving. I don't want to forget. I want to stay here." <<include "sheryvivekiii">>

The statue is silent for a very long time. "He was my best and longest master," Vivek says eventually. But that's all he has to say on the matter. <<include "sheryvivekiii">>

"It does," Vivek says slowly. "It helps." <<include "sheryvivekiii">>

"No!" Vivek thunders. "He did not mean to! He told me he would return, and he always kept his word, if he could. It's not his fault he died. All mortals do." He goes quiet again, his anger subsiding suddenly. "Even you will, someday." <<include "sheryvivekiii">>

He contemplates you in silence for a while. Finally he says: "Thank you, Shepherd. It was… kind of you, to think of a lowly spirit's feelings. I will not forget it." After a moment he adds, "And you, too… Quartermaster." Shery ducks her head. "I didn't do anything," she murmurs, but the smile she sends you is positively radiant with delight. You part with the old gargoyle on good terms, and for weeks after, you think Vivek is much gentler with the recruits who pass beneath him in the great hall. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "dayoffs5">><<set $tangrieljournal to false>><<set $tangrielmedallion to false>><<achieve "achieve_vartageth">><<notify_achievement "To the Last Gasp" "Discovered the fate of Archmage Tangriel, the previous owner of the Shepherds’ compound, and gave Vivek closure.">><</link>></center>

One day, you find that you have some time off to spend at your leisure. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "dayoff">><<if settings.music is true>><<audio ":playing" fadeout>><</if>><</link>></center>

Soon enough, you find it's Red's birthday. His friends in the Veiled Circle—namely Pan and Neon—throw him a party in the refectory, and it's clear how popular he is: all of his Mages are there, as well as new friends he's already made among the Shepherds. <<nobr>><<if $red gte 54>> His face brightens when he sees that you've arrived, though, and he excitedly waves you over, heedless of all the other people waiting to give him their well wishes. "<<c halfname2>>!" he calls. "Come—sit by me?" <<else>> He smiles at you politely in the middle of opening presents. "<<c firstname>>! Come to celebrate with us?" <</if>><</nobr>> <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Celebrate with him.' 'redbirthday'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Leave.' 'leaveredbirthday'>><<setred -5>><</link>></li> </ul>

Red's face falls for a moment before he puts on a polite smile. "All right," he says with an awkward laugh. "See you later." <<include "halekbirthday">>

You join in on the celebration, a warm evening of cake (almond vanilla—Red's favorite, baked by Shery), gifts, music, games, and laughter. <<nobr>><<if $education is "Circle-trained" and $redrelationship is not "rival">> It reminds you of celebrating with him in the Circle: for some reason you've always remembered the date of his birthday since then. <<elseif $education is "Circle-trained" and $redrelationship is "rival">> It looks just how he used to celebrate at the Circle, though you never joined in then; in fact, his loud parties used to annoy you. <</if>><</nobr>> Eventually there's a quiet moment between the two of you as you stand by the refectory's window, looking out at the crisp, dewy moon. Red smiles sidelong at you, looking very content. "It was a good move, coming here," he murmurs, almost as if he's talking to himself. "I'm glad we did it." Now seems like the perfect time to give him a gift… <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Give him your present.' 'redpresent'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Never mind.' 'redbdayfinish'>><</link>></li> </ul>

You'll give him… <ul class="choices"> <<if $tallysgift is true>><li><<link 'The potted plant.' 'pottedplantred'>><<set $tallysgift to false>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $halekgift is true>><li><<link 'The cookbook.' 'cookbookgiftred'>><<set $halekgift to false>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $redgift is true>><li><<link 'The tome about other worlds.' 'tomegiftred'>><<set $redgift to false>><<setred +10>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $aylagift is true>><li><<link 'The map of Blest.' 'mapgiftred'>><<set $aylagift to false>><<setred +3>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $rielgift is true>><li><<link 'The toolset.' 'toolsetgiftred'>><<set $rielgift to false>><<setred +1>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $troublegift is true>><li><<link 'The model of the airship.' 'modelairshiptgiftred'>><<set $troublegift to false>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $bladegift is true>><li><<link 'The strange dagger.' 'strangedaggergiftred'>><<set $bladegift to false>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $sherygift is true>><li><<link 'The heartshaped necklace.' 'heartshapednecklacegiftred'>><<set $sherygift to false>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $brionygift is true>><li><<link 'The painting set.' 'paintinggiftred'>><<set $brionygift to false>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $chasegift is true>><li><<link 'The flashy scarf.' 'flashyscarfgiftred'>><<set $chasegift to false>><<setred +1>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $lavinetgift is true>><li><<link 'The ornate hairpin.' 'ornatehairpingiftred'>><<set $lavinetgift to false>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $falsegift is true>><li><<link 'The crystal orb.' 'crystalorbgiftred'>><<set $falsegift to false>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $flowergift is true>><li><<link 'The bouquet of flowers.' 'bouquetflowersgiftred'>><<set $flowergift to false>><<setred +1>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $gold gte 1>><li><<link 'Some money.' 'goldgiftred'>><<setgold -1>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link 'Nothing. Never mind.' 'nothingnevermindredgift'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Red smiles at the little plant, which Tallys watered for you while you were away. "Aw, thanks, <<c halfname2>>," he says with a grin, taking the plant. "I'll be sure to take care of this little guy—he can sit on my desk!" He gives you a boyish grin. "Thank you." <<include "redbdayfinish">>

Red looks briefly bemused, but he hides it well behind a polite smile and a thanks. "Thank you, <<c firstname>>," he says pleasantly. "I'm a pretty terrible cook, so this will come in handy." <<include "redbdayfinish">>

Red's mouth falls open as you pass him the tome. "<i>Where did you get that</i>?!" he fairly shouts. "This is a rare text—only nine copies—I've been looking for this for <i>years</i>!" He suddenly sweeps you up into a tight hug, and people start to turn and stare. "<i>Thank you</i>!" He smiles down at you. "You are the most brilliant person in the world." You smile at him. "Happy birthday, Red." <<include "redbdayfinish">>

Red looks positively delighted. "Thank you, <<c halfname2>>," he says sincerely. "This will be an amazing help during my travels. It's brilliant." He smiles at you, all boyish ease and charm. "<i>You're</i> brilliant." You smile at him. "Happy birthday, Red." <<include "redbdayfinish">>

Red smiles, looking down at the toolset with interest. "That's so thoughtful of you, <<c halfname2>>," he says happily. "I'm sure I'll need this in the workshop at some point. Thank you!" <<include "redbdayfinish">>

Red blinks down at the toy, then smiles pleasantly at you. "Thanks, <<c firstname>>," he says smoothly. "This'll look great on the shelf in my room." <<include "redbdayfinish">>

Red blinks down at the weapon. "Oh—er, thanks, <<c firstname>>," he says, taking the dagger with a nervous laugh. "I'm… I'm sure this will come in handy someday!" <<include "redbdayfinish">>

Red accepts the necklace, then looks at you with his mouth quirked in a half-uncertain smile. "Thank you, <<c firstname>>," he says, seeming briefly puzzled. "I'll… wear this, and think of you." <<include "redbdayfinish">>

Red smiles. "I've never tried painting. Thank you, <<c firstname>>—I'll dedicate my first masterpiece to you!" <<include "redbdayfinish">>

Red grins. "That looks almost too fashionable for me," he says, accepting the garment with reverence, "but I'll wear it always and think of you. It looks great! Thank you!" <<include "redbdayfinish">>

Red can't bother to hide his laughing snort. "Did you mean to get this for someone else?" He pins the ornament to his fiery hair. "Well, at least I look pretty." <<include "redbdayfinish">>

Red holds the sphere curiously up to the light. "This is glass, isn't it?" he asks, holding the orb tentatively like it's actually a bomb. "Good for scrying—too bad I'm rather shit at that. But I can practice. Thank you, <<c firstname>>." <<include "redbdayfinish">>

Red accepts the flowers with a huge smile, then gives you a warm hug. "Thanks, <<c halfname2>>. They're lovely." <<nobr>><<if $redromanceflag gte 5>> <br><br> Somewhere in the background, Pan whoops, "<i>Ooooh</i>! <<c halfname2>> got Red <i>flowers</i>!" <br><br> Red blushes fiercely and mutters, "Ignore him, he's an imbecile." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "redbdayfinish">>

Red looks taken aback, but he accepts your gift of one deucalion with grace and polite gratitude. "Thank you, <<c firstname>>," he says seriously. "That's very kind of you. I appreciate it." <<include "redbdayfinish">>

Red smiles awkwardly. "I'm just glad you're here, <<c firstname>>." <<include "redbdayfinish">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "redbdayfinishi">><</link>></center>

You spent some time with Red on his birthday! <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "halekbirthday">><</link>></center>

Halek's birthday also happens to fall on the same month as Red's. Do you celebrate with him? <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Yes.' 'halekbirthdaycelebrate'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'No.' 'wintersunarrives'>><</link>></li> </ul>

You find Halek hiding out on one of the Shepherd tower's terraces, lying on his back and watching the winter clouds skid across the sky. For a moment he doesn't seem to notice your arrival, and you think he might even be asleep, but then he says, "This is the first time I've ever spent my birthday away from the Reach. And away from my twin, in fact." "Are you homesick?" you ask him. He looks rueful. "On the contrary," Halek replies. "It's a bit of a relief. Back home, our birthday is such a huge fuss. It doesn't matter what we want, everyone else always wants to celebrate their chosen ones or whatever it is. Incredibly tiresome." He falls silent, and for a long while the two of you just sit there on the terrace, enjoying the pale, watery sun and the companionable silence. Eventually it seems like a good a time as any to give him a gift. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'But you don\'t give him one.' 'halekbdayfinish'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Give him one.' 'halekgift'>><</link>></li> </ul>

You'll give him… <ul class="choices"> <<if $tallysgift is true>><li><<link 'The potted plant.' 'pottedplanthalekgift'>><<set $tallysgift to false>><<sethalek +1>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $halekgift is true>><li><<link 'The cookbook.' 'cookbookgifthalek'>><<set $halekgift to false>><<sethalek +10>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $redgift is true>><li><<link 'The tome about other worlds.' 'tomegifthalek'>><<set $redgift to false>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $aylagift is true>><li><<link 'The map of Blest.' 'mapgifthalek'>><<set $aylagift to false>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $rielgift is true>><li><<link 'The toolset.' 'toolsetgifthalek'>><<set $rielgift to false>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $troublegift is true>><li><<link 'The model of the airship.' 'airshipgifthalek'>><<set $troublegift to false>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $bladegift is true>><li><<link 'The strange dagger.' 'daggergifthalek'>><<set $bladegift to false>><<sethalek +3>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $sherygift is true>><li><<link 'The heartshaped necklace.' 'necklacegifthalek'>><<set $sherygift to false>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $brionygift is true>><li><<link 'The painting set.' 'paintinggifthalek'>><<set $brionygift to false>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $chasegift is true>><li><<link 'The flashy scarf.' 'flashyscarfgifthalek'>><<set $chasegift to false>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $lavinetgift is true>><li><<link 'The ornate hairpin.' 'ornatehairpingifthalek'>><<set $lavinetgift to false>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $falsegift is true>><li><<link 'The crystal orb.' 'crystalorbgifthalek'>><<set $falsegift to false>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $flowergift is true>><li><<link 'The bouquet of flowers.' 'bouquestflowersgifthalek'>><<set $flowergift to false>><<sethalek +1>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $gold gte 1>><li><<link 'Some money.' 'goldgifthalek'>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link 'Nothing. Never mind.' 'nothingnevermindgifthalek'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Halek smiles at the little plant, which Tallys watered for you while you were away. "Ah, that's winter mint," he says, sitting up and regarding the pot with interest. "It's a great ingredient for teas and some broths—did you know that? No? Well, it's wonderful." He gives you a crooked, sleepy smile. "Thanks." <<include "halekbdayfinish">>

Halek practically shoots to his feet, suddenly alert. "This is by one of the most famous chefs in Conte-by-the-Sea," he says, almost seizing the book from your hands in his sudden fervor. His eyes are bright with interest. "I've been wanting to get my hands on this for ages—thank you, <<c firstname>>!" He doesn't quite hug you, but his eyes are fierce with some emotion. Something like gratitude and something else. You smile at him. "Happy birthday, Halek." <<include "halekbdayfinish">>

Halek looks at the book and forces a smile, but his eyes don't mask his disinterest. "Oh, thanks, <<c firstname>>," he says politely. "I'll… be sure to read this sometime." <<include "halekbdayfinish">>

Halek nods politely, accepting the map. "Thank you, <<c firstname>>," he says with sleepy interest. "I always like looking at these." <<include "halekbdayfinish">>

Halek turns the toolset over in his pale hands. "I'm not very handy," he drawls. "But thank you, <<c firstname>>. I'll find a use for this sometime." <<include "halekbdayfinish">>

Halek blinks down at the toy, then tilts his head. "What is that?" You explain what it is, and Halek nods seriously. "I see," he says. "Thank you for the gift." <<include "halekbdayfinish">>

Halek smiles at you, immediately holstering the weapon to his belt. "Thank you," he says sincerely, drawing the dagger and holding it up to the light. "This is a nice knife. I'm sure I'll have a use for it sooner rather than later." He smiles crookedly at you. "Thanks for thinking of my safety." <<include "halekbdayfinish">>

Halek looks dryly amused. "That looks like a lover's token," he quips. "What, did you find it somewhere and decide to repurpose it? Well—thank you. I'll keep it close." <<include "halekbdayfinish">>

Halek smiles ponderously. "I'd like to try painting. Thank you, <<c firstname>>." <<include "halekbdayfinish">>

Halek immediately winds the scarf around his neck. "My wardrobe's mostly black," he deadpans, "so this is a nice splash of color. Thank you." <<include "halekbdayfinish">>

Halek looks bemused. "That looks like a gift for Moonsilk," he notes dryly, accepting the hairpin. "But thank you. I… appreciate it." He looks droll. <<include "halekbdayfinish">>

"A paperweight?" Halek accepts the crystal orb. "I hate doing paperwork, but if I ever have any, I'll be sure to use this. Thanks." <<include "halekbdayfinish">>

Halek accepts the flowers with a smile. "Thank you, <<c firstname>>." <<include "halekbdayfinish">>

Halek holds up his hand before you can give him the coin. "Thank you, but no thank you, <<c firstname>>," he says. "I appreciate the gesture, but I don't need the coin. That's very kind of you, though." <<include "halekbdayfinish">>

Halek smiles at you slightly. He either doesn't notice the awkward moment, or he's very good at pretending not to notice. <<include "halekbdayfinish">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "halekbdayfinishi">><</link>></center>

You spent some time with Halek on his birthday! <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "wintersunarrives">><<sethalek +3>><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<if settings.music is true>><<audio "wintersun" volume 0.1 play>><</if>><</nobr>> Soon enough, Wintersun arrives—the feast day held on winter solstice, the shortest day of the year. The day's festivities are focused on celebrating the worst of winter being over, the coming of spring and the new year, and themes of renewal and cleansing. <<nobr>><<if $cainejoin is true>> Caine comes to you, making a face of disgust. "Did you know people go swimming in the river naked after midnight?" he asks you. "It's freezing out there! Your—" He looks around furtively. "Your <i>you-know-what</i>'d fall off!" <br><br> Trouble, overhearing, barks out a laugh. "It's symbolic," he explains. "Something to do with washing away the sins and regrets of the past year." <br><br> "You seem to know a lot about it," Caine says suspiciously. "You done it?" <br><br> "Get lost, kid. Everyone in Haven knows about it." <br><br> "That means you did! So your you-know-what fell off?!" <br><br> "<i>No</i>!" <<else>> "You know, some people even go swimming in the river naked after midnight," Chase says with a cackle. "Something about washing away the sins and regrets of yesteryear, et cetera, et cetera." <br><br> "I could see you doing that, Chase," Red says, overhearing. "It seems just crazy enough to suit you." <br><br> The thief gives the pretense of looking offended. "Speak for yourself!" he says with mock indignity. "If the people of Haven want to see me bare-arsed, they're going to have to work harder than that!" <</if>><</nobr>> That afternoon, a team of cooks bakes a giant cake, as tall as a man, with golden raisins and honey—a symbol to invite bees and birds and spring to return. And an enormous feast is held in the Order's dining hall, the cavernous chamber packed with warm and chattering bodies as platters of shared food are passed hand to hand. The room steams with life and joy. You will all be crammed into this room together until after midnight, to welcome in the new year in precious company. It is one of the most important holidays of the year. You sit next to… <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Blade.' 'bladewintersun'>><<setblade +3>><<set $wintersun to "blade">><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Trouble.' 'troublewintersun'>><<settrouble +3>><<set $wintersun to "trouble">><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Tallys.' 'tallyswintersun'>><<settallys +3>><<set $wintersun to "tallys">><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Shery.' 'sherywintersun'>><<setshery +3>><<set $wintersun to "shery">><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Riel.' 'rielwintersun'>><<setriel +3>><<set $wintersun to "riel">><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Chase.' 'chasewintersun'>><<setchase +3>><<set $wintersun to "chase">><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Red.' 'redwintersun'>><<setred +3>><<set $wintersun to "red">><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Ayla.' 'aylawintersun'>><<setayla +3>><<set $wintersun to "ayla">><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Halek.' 'halekwintersun'>><<sethalek +3>><<set $wintersun to "halek">><</link>></li> </ul>

At midnight, as is tradition, you turn to him and break a piece of fairy bread together: a kind of glazed, braided bun with colorful custard on the inside. The color inside the bun is supposed to predict the state of your coming year. <<bun>> <<nobr>><<if $fairybread is "white">> <br><br> "That's good," Blade says gravely. "To our good health." <<elseif $fairybread is "pink" and $bladeromanceflag gte 7>> <br><br> Blade's eyes flick towards the pink color of the bun before glancing away; if he has any thoughts on its significance, he doesn't share them. <</if>><</nobr>> It's also tradition for you to intertwine your arms with your tablemate's and take a bite out of the other person's fairy bread, for good luck. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'You do so. "To the new year!"' 'youdosotothenewyeartablemate'>><<setblade +3>><<if $gender is "female" and $bladeromanceflag gte 7>><<set $bladeromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'You don\'t do so. ' 'wintersunoveri'>><</link>></li> </ul>

<<nobr>><<if $gender is "female" and $bladeromanceflag gte 7>> It takes a lot of persuasion and expectant staring for Blade to awkwardly follow suit. He turns away afterwards, and you could swear he was covering a faint blush. But it must be the warmth of the room. <br><br> <<include "wintersunover">> <<else>> <<include "wintersunoveri">> <</if>><</nobr>>

At midnight, as is tradition, you turn to him and break a piece of fairy bread together: a kind of glazed, braided bun with colorful custard on the inside. The color inside the bun is supposed to predict the state of your coming year. <<bun>> <<nobr>><<if $fairybread is "red">> <br><br> "Well, shit," Trouble says with an easy laugh. "That can't be good." <<elseif $fairybread is "pink">> <br><br> "Huh," Trouble says, looking at the inside of the bun with a bemused look. "Wonder what that means for me?" <</if>><</nobr>> It's also tradition for you to intertwine your arms with your tablemate's and take a bite out of the other person's fairy bread, for good luck. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'You do so. "To the new year!"' 'youdosotothenewyeartrouble'>><<settrouble +3>><<if $troubleromanceflag gte 5>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'You don\'t do so.' 'wintersunoveri'>><<settrouble -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

<<nobr>><<if $troubleromanceflag gte 5>> There's a ruddy blush on Trouble's cheeks as he leans forward; his stubbled cheek skims past yours as he hesitantly takes a bite of your half of the fairy bread. Then he sits back, still blushing furiously, and coughs. "Think I'm going to choke on this if I'm not careful. That'd be a sight, wouldn't it?" He downs some wine and hardly seems to notice it. <br><br> <<include "wintersunover">> <<else>> <<include "wintersunoveri">> <</if>><</nobr>>

At midnight, as is tradition, you turn to her and break a piece of fairy bread together: a kind of glazed, braided bun with colorful custard on the inside. The color inside the bun is supposed to predict the state of your coming year. <<bun>> <<nobr>><<if $fairybread is "white">> <br><br> Tallys smiles when she sees the color of your bun. "That's good," she says quietly. "That'll keep us safe this year." <<elseif $fairybread is "pink">> <br><br> Tallys steals a mischievous look at you when she sees the color of your bun. <<if $tallysromanceflag gte 3>> She even winks! <</if>> <</if>><</nobr>> It's also tradition for you to intertwine your arms with your tablemate's and take a bite out of the other person's fairy bread, for good luck. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'You do so. "To the new year!"' 'youdosotothenewyeartallys'>><<settallys +3>><<if $tallysex is true or $tallysromanceflag gte 5>><<set $tallysromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'You don\'t do so.' 'wintersunoveri'>><</link>></li> </ul>

<<nobr>><<if $tallyssex is true or $tallysromanceflag gte 5>> She meets your eye as she leans forward to take a bite of your half of the fairy bread; her short hair whispers against your cheek, and Tallys smiles at you—though it's half a smirk. "To new beginnings and adventures," she murmurs, her eyes glinting with hidden laughter. <br><br> <<include "wintersunover">> <<else>> <<include "wintersunoveri">> <</if>><</nobr>>

At midnight, as is tradition, you turn to her and break a piece of fairy bread together: a kind of glazed, braided bun with colorful custard on the inside. The color inside the bun is supposed to predict the state of your coming year. <<bun>> <<nobr>><<if $fairybread is "white">> <br><br> Shery smiles when she sees the color of your bun. "I'm so glad," she breathes. "I was hoping for that one—that means you'll stay safe this year!" <<elseif $fairybread is "pink">> <br><br> Shery blushes when she notices the color of your bun. She pretends not to see it, but the way her eyes dart at you, then away, is telling. <</if>><</nobr>> It's also tradition for you to intertwine your arms with your tablemate's and take a bite out of the other person's fairy bread, for good luck. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'You do so. "To the new year!"' 'youdosotothenewyearshery'>><<setshery +3>><<if $gender is "female" and $sheryromanceflag gte 3>><<set $sheryromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'You don\'t do so.' 'wintersunoveri'>><</link>></li> </ul>

<<nobr>><<if $gender is "female" and $sheryromanceflag gte 3>> Shery looks like she wants to die in her seat and ascend to heaven right then and there. She leans forward hesitantly, her long hair hiding her face, but you can tell that her hand is trembling as you take a bite from her half of the fairy bread. Shery pulls away rapidly and squeaks, "T-to the new year!" <br><br> She spends the rest of the night fanning her face with a napkin, looking overheated. <<include "wintersunover">> <<else>> <<include "wintersunoveri">> <</if>><</nobr>>

At midnight, as is tradition, you turn to him and break a piece of fairy bread together: a kind of glazed, braided bun with colorful custard on the inside. The color inside the bun is supposed to predict the state of your coming year. <<bun>> <<nobr>><<if $fairybread is "gold">> <br><br> Riel smiles. "Very fortuitous," he acknowledges. "I don't believe it any of it, but this is decidedly the best color we could have gotten." <</if>><</nobr>> It's also tradition for you to intertwine your arms with your tablemate's and take a bite out of the other person's fairy bread, for good luck. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'You do so. "To the new year!"' 'youdosotothenewyearriel'>><<setriel +3>><<if $gender is "male" and $rielromanceflag gte 3>><<set $rielromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'You don\'t do so.' 'youdontdosowintersunriel'>><<setriel +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

<<nobr>><<if $gender is "male" and $rielromanceflag gte 3>> Riel's face is unreadable as he politely leans forward to take a bite with impossible dignity, but you notice how his hand—resting on his knee—twitches with nervous energy, just slightly. Then he smiles at you, cool as anything. "To the new year." <br><br> <<include "wintersunover">> <<else>> Riel smiles and nods. "To the new year." <br><br> <<include "wintersunover">> <</if>><</nobr>>

You might be imagining it, but Riel looks sort of relieved. <<include "wintersunover">>

At midnight, as is tradition, you turn to him and break a piece of fairy bread together: a kind of glazed, braided bun with colorful custard on the inside. The color inside the bun is supposed to predict the state of your coming year. <<bun>> <<nobr>><<if $fairybread is "gold">> <br><br> Chase grins. "I knew you were my good luck charm, $nickname," he croons. "You've made this thief very happy. And probably very rich. Sometime this year, anyway." <<elseif $fairybread is "pink" and $chaseromanceflag gt 0>> <br><br> Chase raises his eyebrows when he sees the color that you got—then he gives you an over-the-top smirk, waggling his eyebrows in a comical fashion. "How <i>interesting</i>." <</if>><</nobr>> It's also tradition for you to intertwine your arms with your tablemate's and take a bite out of the other person's fairy bread, for good luck. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'You do so. "To the new year!"' 'youdosotothenewyearchase'>><<setchase +3>><<if $chaseromanceflag gte 6>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'You don\'t do so.' 'wintersunoveri'>><<setchase -3>><</link>></li> </ul>

<<nobr>><<if $chaseromanceflag gte 6>> Chase's eyes glint in a mischievous manner as he leans forward to take a bite out of your half of the fairy bread. He smells enticingly of cologne and amber, and also faintly of leather and metal… it's almost intoxicating. The look on his face when he leans back—a little smirk—tells you that he knows exactly what he's doing. "To the new year, $nickname," he murmurs, smiling at you. He licks a bit of powdered sugar from his lip. "May we continue to bring each other good luck." <br><br> <<include "wintersunover">> <<else>> <<include "wintersunoveri">> <</if>><</nobr>>

At midnight, as is tradition, you turn to him and break a piece of fairy bread together: a kind of glazed, braided bun with colorful custard on the inside. The color inside the bun is supposed to predict the state of your coming year. <<bun>><<nobr>><<if $fairybread is "red">> <br><br> Red stares at it for a moment, then smiles. "I mean, it's not like it means anything," he says to you in a conspiratorial whisper. "We're, what, going to believe that bread knows our future?" <<elseif $fairybread is "pink">> <br><br> "Don't let Chase find out we got that," he whispers, winking at you in a conspiratorial manner. "If he hears, he'll never let us hear the end of it." <</if>><</nobr>> It's also tradition for you to intertwine your arms with your tablemate's and take a bite out of the other person's fairy bread, for good luck. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'You do so. "To the new year!"' 'youdosotothenewyearred'>><<setred +3>><<if $redromanceflag gte 4>><<set $redromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'You don\'t do so.' 'wintersunoveri'>><</link>></li> </ul>

<<nobr>><<if $redromanceflag gte 4>> Red leans forward in that easy and confident manner he has, taking a bite out of your half of the fairy bread as you do so with his. It's only as he's making to sit back down that he looks at you and murmurs, "I wanted to mention—you look very nice tonight, <<c halfname2>>." <br><br> That's all he says before he sits back in his seat, shoots you a boyish grin, and then raises his cup in a toast with everyone else in the room. "To the new year!" <br><br> <<include "wintersunover">> <<else>> <<include "wintersunoveri">> <</if>><</nobr>>

At midnight, as is tradition, you turn to her and break a piece of fairy bread together: a kind of glazed, braided bun with colorful custard on the inside. The color inside the bun is supposed to predict the state of your coming year. <<bun>><<nobr>><<if $fairybread is "gold">> <br><br> Ayla snorts when she sees the color of your bun. "Bullshit," she says, with scornful humor. "I get gold every year and I'm still poor as shit. Ah, well. Better than red." <<elseif $fairybread is "red">> <br><br> The color in her face drains a little as she takes in the red bun. "That's never good," she says after a moment. <</if>><</nobr>> It's also tradition for you to intertwine your arms with your tablemate's and take a bite out of the other person's fairy bread, for good luck. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'You do so. "To the new year!"' 'youdosotothenewyearayla'>><<setayla +3>><<if $aylaromanceflag gte 4>><<set $aylaromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'You don\'t do so.' 'wintersunoveri'>><</link>></li> </ul>

<<nobr>><<if $aylaromanceflag gte 4>> Ayla gets so distracted by your close proximity that she actually wolfs down your half of the fairy bread entirely! <br><br> "Sorry," she says, her mouth full as she leans away. "…I'm hungry." <br><br> <<include "wintersunover">> <<else>> <<include "wintersunoveri">> <</if>><</nobr>>

At midnight, as is tradition, you turn to him and break a piece of fairy bread together: a kind of glazed, braided bun with colorful custard on the inside. The color inside the bun is supposed to predict the state of your coming year. <<bun>> <<nobr>><<if $fairybread is "white">> <br><br> Halek looks unimpressed as he inspects the inside of your bun, which matches the color of his hair. "Boring," he says with a yawn. "Give me riches or something any day." <<elseif $fairybread is "pink">> <br><br> Halek snorts when he sees the inside of the bun. "If that's in reference to Moonsilk," he drawls, "it's very much wrong. But we'll see." <</if>><</nobr>> It's also tradition for you to intertwine your arms with your tablemate's and take a bite out of the other person's fairy bread, for good luck. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'You do so. "To the new year!"' 'wintersunoveri'>><<sethalek +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'You don\'t do so.' 'wintersunoveri'>><</link>></li> </ul>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "wintersunoveri">><</link>></center>

...Wintersun is over! <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "wintersunoverii">><<nobr>><<if settings.music is true>><<audio ":playing" fadeout>><</if>><</nobr>><</link>></center>

The weeks pass; the season turns. Finally, the very worst of winter eases, and Blade comes to you with another mission. This one won't take as long as the last one did, he says, but you will have to go even farther afield. And this time he won't be going with you: he has to stay and corral the new ranks of the Order. "Will I be going alone?" you ask, thinking of that lonely journey into the mountain. He shakes his head. "No," Blade says. "I'm sending some of our newest members along with you. Red, Ayla, and Halek." "Where to?" He slaps down a map on the table in front of you; it would be a dramatic movement in anyone but Blade, but for him it's simply a matter-of-fact motion. He points one long, scarred finger at a city nestled in blood-red dunes, west across the Shield Peaks. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>"Heth Macoll." </span></div></div>' "wintersuniv">><</link>></center>

<<set $tempbladeflirt to false>>You pause. Heth Macoll is a city infamous for its lawlessness—it sits on the northwestern bands of the Autarchy, in a strip of ashland and desert, and is home to many mercenaries and even criminal networks. There is no real government there, and the wealthy and the cutthroat rule the place. Heth Macoll is where people go to find sellswords who have no problem doing the lowest, dirtiest work for high coin. You've even heard Riel refer to it as "a veritable hive of scum and villainy." "Chase's spy network brought us this intelligence," Blade says, interrupting your thoughts. "And one of Riel's traveling merchant caravans has corroborated it. Heth Macoll is notorious for its gladiator fights, underground gambling, and other black market activities. But recently there have been rumors that there is a gladiator arena there, growing rapidly in prominence—and populated solely by Diminished fighters." You watch as he stands back, looking darkly pensive; he has the look of a man who would pace, but is too still and tense out of habit to do it naturally. "The thieves in the Heth Macoll guild—Chase's sister branch—have said that it's likely these Diminished fighters are not willing gladiators, but captives, kidnapped slaves forced to fight each other against their wills. And they fight each other to the death there." He shakes his head. "The thieves are still working on it, but they've made contact with at least one flesh-peddler who has said he's been told to be on the lookout for promising 'candidates', which backs up the theory that these are the victims of kidnap and illegal slave trading." He looks at you. "If any of this is true, we need to free those captives." <<include "discussmission1">>

<ul class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("anysignsendarkenedactivity")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Any signs of Endarkened activity?"</div>' 'anysignsendarkenedactivity'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("anywordonpeoplerunarena")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Any word on the people who run the arena, or the victims?"</div>' 'anywordonpeoplerunarena'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("soyouresendingmeacrosscontinentonrumor")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"So you\'re sending me across the Continent on a rumor?"</div>' 'soyouresendingmeacrosscontinentonrumor'>><<setloyal -5>><<setblade -5>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("whendoyouwantustoleavebladearena")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"When do you want us to leave?"</div>' 'whendoyouwantustoleavebladearena'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("whereareweonfindingfacelesslordarena")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Where are we at on finding the next Faceless Lord?"</div>' 'whereareweonfindingfacelesslordarena'>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($bladeromanceflag gte 10 or $blade gte 70) and $tempbladeflirt is false>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"I wish you could come along. I always feel better when you\'re on the mission, too."</div>' 'iwishyoucomealonebettermissionarena'>><<set $tempbladeflirt to true>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 10>><<setblade +1>><<set $bladeromanceflag += 1>><<else>><<setblade +1>><</if>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link 'Let him go on.' 'discussmission1i'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Blade shakes his head. "Not as of yet. This is a matter of justice concerning Diminished, which is also in our purview—and slavery has been illegal within the Autarchy for centuries. So whether demons are involved or not, this is our jurisdiction—and our duty to investigate." <<include "discussmission1">>

Blade frowns. "Unfortunately, no. The owners of the arena have remained elusive, even to the Heth Macoll Thieves Guild. The patrons range from mercenaries wanting to spend their coin to visiting aristocrats and nobles looking for… unique entertainment. As for the victims, we have no names or information—likely they're simply people from around the Continent whose disappearances wouldn't be investigated… which means they could be any Diminished alive." <<include "discussmission1">>

Blade frowns at you. "I am sending you based on the intelligence we've received from multiple sources, and due to the urgency of the situation," he says, his voice suddenly very cold. "If the so-called 'rumor' is true, to any degree, I would not be able to stomach letting those captives wait for even one day more than necessary. Would you?" You look away. <<include "discussmission1">>

"As soon as possible," Blade answers. "Preferably the day after tomorrow, if you can prepare well enough by then." <<include "discussmission1">>

Blade blows a breath. "We're working on it," he says, "especially now that we have Halek's knowledge to supplement the gaps in ours. But the Faceless Lords are dangerous for a reason: they can take any form, possess any vessel, and be anywhere in the world. We're scouring the Continent for telltale signs of crisis, as with Black Sun or the Wildfire Fever, but…" "It's a big place," you finish. "And we don't know what scale the Faceless Lord is working on." He nods. "Exactly." <<include "discussmission1">>

<<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 10>> Blade smiles faintly. "I know," he says gently. His hand twitches, as if he wants to reach up—but then he clenches it and tucks it against his side. "I… wish I could go, as well. Unfortunately, I'm needed here." His eyes watch you. "Just be careful. And safe. That's an order." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Actually, I think I\'ll go running headlong into trouble as soon as I can."' 'actuallyithinkillrunheadlongblade'>><<set $bladeromanceflag += 1>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Smile at him softly. "You, too."' 'smilebladesoftlyarenamission'>><<set $bladeromanceflag += 1>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Salute. "Aye-aye, Commander."' 'saluteaycommanderbladearenamission'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Well, I\'ll be accompanying a berserk Hunter, an even more berserk Wind-Mage, and Red, so... no promises."' 'wellillbeaccompanyingbeserkhuntlbadearena'>><</link>></li> </ul> <<else>> Blade smiles faintly. "I know. Unfortunately, I'm needed here." <<include "discussmission1">> <</if>><</nobr>>

His expression turns severe. "<<c firstname>>—" "It's called a <i>joke</i>, <<nobr>><<if $courage gte 70>> dummy." <br><br> His face transforms into one of both relief and offense. It's possible he's never been called that word in his life. "Ah," Blade mutters. "Just… be careful." <<include "discussmission1">> <<else>> Blade." <br><br> His face softens slightly. "Good," he says quietly. "I… knew that." <<include "discussmission1">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Blade looks away, suddenly unable to make eye contact with you. He clears his throat, his hand clenching slightly. "…Good." <<include "discussmission1">>

He nods. "Good." <<include "discussmission1">>

Blade snorts and shakes his head. "I'll be counting on you to be the sensible one." <<include "discussmission1">>

"Red, Ayla, and Halek will accompany you into the city," Blade continues. "Once you're there, you'll make contact with the thieves in the Heth Macoll guild: they can be trusted, as they're Chase's long-time allies. They'll get you into the arena." He pauses. "As I've mentioned, we've had no luck understanding the situation from the outside, and we need as much information as possible before we act. Our primary objectives are to free the current captives and dismantle the arena's organization so that it can't continue its operations in the future. And doing so will deter other groups from attempting to start their own arenas and imitating the practices already established there." He sighs and sits, leaning back in his chair. "This—if we're going by the Autarchy's standards—would mean taking the time to identify the heads of the organization, the minds behind it all, and arresting them, delivering them to the nearest Inquisitors or city Vice Guard. But I will leave it to your judgment to do as you see fit. As long as the arena is stopped and the captives freed—and the whole thing so crippled that they can't take up again once you've left—I don't much care how you do it." <<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 10>> He pauses again, watching you, then adds in a sterner voice, "So long as you're careful. Don't do anything stupid." <</if>><</nobr>> You nod, and he continues. "As I said, we need to understand how the whole thing works—who's in charge, how they pick and capture their gladiators, who's involved—before you bring everything crashing down. If we charge in there, guns blazing, the ones responsible will likely get away and will be free to start again somewhere else. And the captives might be harmed in the crossfire." He sighs and shakes his head. "Since having people attend the fights has borne no fruit in terms of gleaning information… it seems we'll need someone to infiltrate the arena and learn its inner workings from the inside." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "discussmission1ii">><</link>></center>

There's a sudden knock at the door, and Blade's significant pause is enough of a welcome for the person to come in. It's Riel, holding a dossier and looking as crisply-dressed as ever. "Ah, good, I thought you'd be here already," he says by way of greeting; he heads to the desk where you're sitting across from Blade, then sets down the dossier and sits primly next to you. "Those are the best routes to Heth Macoll that I've mapped out, in consultation with my caravan masters; and I've taken the liberty of making up some false identities for the four of you as you travel." Blade nods in thanks. "I was just explaining the covert nature of the mission," he says, flicking open the dossier and examining the contents within. "Ah," Riel says, turning to you and folding one knee smartly over the other. "Yes, someone will need to investigate the arena from within—subtly and covertly. It also needs to be someone who is powerful and skilled enough to survive, well, posing as a gladiator. Officer Aescar is a strong Mage, but I fear she's too impulsive and… honest to make a suitable covert agent. I suspect she'd blow her cover the moment someone insulted her. And Liefred is a wretched liar, but even if you could train him out of that, I don't believe his magical abilities are well-suited to a gladiator-style environment: he likely wouldn't last long enough to get the information we need. And no one can doubt our dear sol's skills… but if there is an Endarkened creature or vessel anywhere in the vicinity of that arena, he's going to forget his objective in an instant and rampage his way out of there. Which, of course, would be disastrous for the mission." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"So that leaves me, obviously."' 'soleavesmerielarenaprep'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Wait, I\'m going to pose as a <i>gladiator</i>?"' 'waitimgoingtoposeasgladiatorprep'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'But they will all be nearby?"' 'butwilltheybenearbyarenaprep'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Riel nods. <<include "discussmission1iii">>

"I thought you meant we'd investigate while pretending to be janitors, or something." Riel shakes his head. "It's extremely doubtful they'd ever hire an outsider in that capacity, not without careful vetting. No, you'll gain the most comprehensive view of things from the inside as one of the gladiators themselves." Then he leans back. <<include "discussmission1iii">>

"They will be in the audience each day during the fights," Blade says, "and they'll be working on other ways of obtaining information while you work inside the arena." "We are working on a solution for Halek's blood-rage," Riel puts in then, "but it's a prototype and there's no guarantee it will work the way we expect. Best not to take any chances." Then he leans back. <<include "discussmission1iii">>

"The tricky part is that you must be 'captured' and sold to the arena," he says. "It's repulsive, I know, but it's the only surefire way their suspicions aren't aroused. Luckily our connections to the Thieves Guild in Heth Macoll—along with some hefty coin—will make that ordeal easier, at least in a literal sense. But it's really the only way. If you're hired, they'll be watching your every move. If you break in, there is a high chance of being caught—and severely punished. But if you pretend to be one of their captives, one of their gladiators, not only will you be able to observe everything without much notice—they will be expecting you to escape, not for you to be a spy for anyone—they may even treat you very well, if you become one of their favored fighters." He and Blade look at you expectantly: you can tell they know this is a lot to ask of you, and it's a dangerous and risky mission to boot. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I\'m ready."' 'discussmission1iv'>><<setloyal +5>><<setcourage +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'ll do whatever it takes to help those captives."' 'discussmission1iv'>><<setcompassionate +5>><<setblade +1>><<setriel +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Can\'t you send someone else?"' 'cantyousendsomeoneelsecapturedarena'>><<setloyal -5>><<setcunning +3>><<setblade -3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Fine, I\'ll go." But you\'re not exactly happy about it.' 'discussmission1iv'>><<setloyal -3>><<setriel -1>><<setblade -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

"There's very few I would trust with this," Blade says flatly, "and of those, most have to take other vital missions. It has to be you." You sigh. "Fine." At least you tried. <<include "discussmission1iv">>

Riel nods. "Good. Now, you'll learn much more when you actually reach Heth Macoll, but here's what else we know…" You spend the rest of the evening being briefed on your mission before your departure. <<nobr>><<if $riel gte 55 or $rielromanceflag gte 3>> At the end of it all Riel shakes your hand very gravely, murmuring, "Be careful," as he stands to leave. "We'll all be awaiting your return, as before." <br><br> You nod. "I'll be back soon." <br><br> "We'll be waiting," Riel says again, and gifts you a rare smile. <<elseif $bladeromanceflag gte 17>> At the end of it all Blade pauses, his dark eyes taking you in, before he lays his hand on the crown of your head in silence. "Come back safely," he says, almost too quiet to hear. <br><br> You nod, <<if $courage gte 30>> giving him a brave smile. <<else>> and try to give him a smile. <</if>> "I will." <</if>><</nobr>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>A Few Days Later...</span></div></div>' "discussmission1v">><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<if $numberofhated is 0>> So, once preparations have been made and quick farewells said—many of your friends have been dispatched on their own missions—you take Uwala and set off out of the city with Red, Ayla, and Halek in tow. <<elseif $cainejoin is true>> So, once preparations have been made and quick farewells said— "but you just got back!" Caine complains—you take Uwala and set off out of the city with Red, Ayla, and Halek in tow. <<elseif $trainingtime gte 1 and $teammorale gte 1>> So, once preparations have been made and quick farewells said—your squad looks nervous as you leave, as if they might implode in your absence—you take Uwala and set off out of the city with Red, Ayla, and Halek in tow. <<elseif $trainingtime gte 1 and $teammorale lt 1>> So, once preparations have been made and quick farewells said—your squad looks almost a little relieved as you leave—you take Uwala and set off out of the city with Red, Ayla, and Halek in tow. <</if>><</nobr>> It's a mostly-uneventful journey: you take something like the same route across the mountains that you took from Brunen to Haven, staying occasionally at roadside inns and otherwise camping out in fields and caves. The weather begins to ease the more West you go, though a chilly bite stays in the clear air, and bathing in frigid streams begins to grow tiresome. One afternoon, you call a halt just as the sun is caressing the dark line of hills in front of you; you've passed the Shield Peaks and are making your approach to the northern ashlands that hold Heth Macoll. Below you, there's a little village called Drun nestled in the valley at your feet: a tiny settlement of no more than a dozen or so houses, and certainly no inn. The mountain air is sharp and cold, and it seems to gnaw at your empty stomachs as you breathe it in. "Not many travelers come this way," Ayla says from her seat on her tawny ahfuri, Shishka. "They won't have a place for us to stay." "We can camp out a little down the path," Red says decisively. "I think I've been in this area before—if my memory serves me correctly, there's a copse, a little pond." "Even if we don't go down there to rest, we do need supplies for dinner tonight," Halek points out then, holding the reins of his huffing elk. "At least, it'd be <i>nice</i> to have them: I'm sick to death of jerky and hardtack." "I can go," Ayla says, stretching in her saddle. "Be a nice change of pace." "I can go, too," Red says. <ul class="choices"> <<if $democomplete is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Ayla and Red, you go: I\'ll go with Halek to make camp."</div>' 'aylaredillgohalekmakecamp'>><<sethalek +3>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">"Ayla and Red, you go: I\'ll go with Halek to make camp."</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $democomplete is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I\'ll go with Ayla to town. Halek and Red, you make camp."</div>' 'aylatownhalekredmakecamp'>><<setayla +3>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">"I\'ll go with Ayla to town. Halek and Red, you make camp."</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link '"I\'ll go with Red to town. Ayla and Halek, you make camp."' 'redtotownaylahalekmakecamp'>><<setred +3>><</link>></li> </ul>

Halek nods. "All right. Meet at that copse in an hour." <<include "halektown">>

Halek nods. "All right. Meet at that copse in an hour." <<include "aylatown">>

Halek nods. "All right. Meet at that copse in an hour." <<include "redtown">>

[Sorry, this section is not complete.] <<include "camp">>

And so you go down into Drun, carrying your empty packs and a demure expression. Red says that the townspeople here are not exactly friendly to outsiders, so it's best if you don't stand out: you tuck your sun medallions into your shirts and do your best to look pinched and hungry—not like powerful warriors who could level the town in a minute if provoked. To your relief, the villagers that you encounter seem to brighten at your arrival—though it's unclear whether it's the appearance of newcomers or your coin that cheers them up. You buy a few meager ingredients from them at undoubtedly an upcharge: some hard, wizened apples, a loaf of tough bread, and other sundries. As you begin to walk back to your ahfuri, Red nudges you playfully. <<nobr>><<if $education is "Circle-trained">> "Remember when our class went on a field trip to a town like this, to look at those caverns near the Wild Wood?" he murmurs. "And they caught that upperclassman who was supposed to be watching us—Tiro, I think it was—with his pants down with one of the village girls?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"What are you talking about? Was I there?"' 'whattalkingaboutwasithere'>><<setred -3>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'You smile. "I\'d forgotten about that."' 'tiro'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'You roll your eyes. "How could I forget? He was disgusting."' 'tiro'>><</link>></li> <<if $redrelationship is "ex">><li><<link '"You\'re one to talk! Weren\'t <i>we</i> also off somewhere, kissing when we should have been doing our sketches?"' 'youreonetotalkredwerentwesomewherekissing'>><<set $redromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li><</if>> </ul> <<else>> "How much do you want to bet they've killed each other by the time we get back?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Pull away. "That seems morbid."' 'pullawaythatseemsmorbid'>><<setred -5>><<setcharisma -3>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Roll your eyes. "Honestly, they\'re like a pair of kids."' 'rollyoureyespairofkidslike'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Grin at him. "What\'s the wager?"' 'grinathimwhatsthewager'>><</link>></li> </ul> <</if>><</nobr>>

He blinks at you. "Of course you were! You were supposed to be helping Magister Batt with collecting specimens. You don't remember?" You shrug. "It was a long time ago." Awkward silence falls as you make your way back to camp. <<include "camp">>

"Whatever happened to him?" "Ah," Red says, a bit more sober—or sheepish—now. "Wyvern got him, a few years back." "Oh." <<include "fieldtrip">>

He blushes slightly, but he's still grinning. "Way better than looking at dusty runes <i>or</i> Tiro with his pants down." You laugh together all the way back to camp. <<include "camp">>

His face falls, and he looks distinctly awkward. "Ah—you're right. Never mind." The rest of the trip back is marked by awkward silence. <<include "camp">>

"To be fair, Halek never instigates it," he laughs. "He's generally pretty laidback, but then Ayla gets on him for something and then he's snapping back like an irritated dog." "To be fair, Ayla gets on him because he does things like sneaking off to take a nap when we're not looking." "That is also true." Thankfully, no one has killed each other by the time you make it back to camp. <<include "camp">>

"Winner has to take one shift of guard duty for the other when we get back?" Red hazards. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"No money?"' 'nomoneywhatswager'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You could have flirted a bit, asked for a kiss... and you went with guard duty?" <b>[FLIRT]</b>' 'youcouldflirtedabitkissguard'>><<set $redromanceflag += 3>><<setred +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

"<<c halfname2>>, I have no savings aside from my salary. And all of that goes to…" "What, old books about different worlds?" you joke. Red's sheepish pause at that is all the answer you need. You spend the rest of the trip back to camp chatting amiably. <<include "camp">>

Red's face turns as nearly—well, red as his hair. He laughs, his voice a little too loud and nervous. "Stupid of me," he says, smiling at you sidelong. He winks. "Next time I'll do better." <<include "camp">>

"Still." He smiles sidelong at you. "Those were the best times. Not a care in the world—other than getting caught by Inquisitors and burned at the stake, of course." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"They really were the best."' 'theyreallywerebestfield'>><<setred +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Nudge him with your shoulder. "I\'m just glad we found each other again."' 'nudgeredshouldergladfound'>><<setred +3>><<set $redromanceflag +=1>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I don\'t know, it wasn\'t all that great back then."' 'idontknowwasntallgreatredbackthen'>><</link>></li> </ul>

You spend the rest of the trip back to camp reminiscing fondly about the past. <<include "camp">>

Red smiles back at you, his body solid and warm against you. "Me too, <<c halfname2>>." <<nobr>><<if $redromanceflag gte 5>> He stares at you in the fading light for a moment, then looks quickly away, clearing his throat. "Anyway… what's your favorite memory from that trip?" <</if>><</nobr>> You spend the rest of the trip back to camp reminiscing fondly about the past. <<include "camp">>

Red frowns at you. "It wasn't perfect, of course, but what do you mean?" <ul class="choices"> <<if $redrelationship is "rival">><li><<link '"I was bullied a lot."' 'iwasbulliedlottored'>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $redrelationship is "rival">><li><<link '"We competed a lot back then. It would stress me out, trying to be the best of the class."' 'wecompetedalotbackstressred'>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link '"I hated studying. The way we would stay up, reading until our eyeballs were going to fall out..." You shudder.' 'ihatedstudyingredstayup'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I just like where we are now better."' 'ijustlikewherewearenowredbetter'>><</link>></li> </ul>

"What? By who?" Red frowns. "I don't remember that." You look away. "You never noticed." He was Mr. Popular; why would he notice? His arms fall back to his sides. "Oh." The rest of the trip to camp is marked by awkward silence. <<include "camp">>

Red blinks in surprise. "But you always made it look so easy," he says. "And I wasn't aware that we were competing." "That makes it even worse." "Oh." The rest of the trip is marked by awkward silence. <<include "camp">>

Red laughs. "I loved all that. Still do." Then he grins sidelong at you. "Well, here's to the present, at least." <<include "camp">>

"Huh." He looks thoughtful. "I see your point." Then he grins sidelong at you. "Here's to the present, then." <<include "camp">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "campi">><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<if settings.music is true>><<audio ":playing" fadeout>><<audio "camp" volume 0 loop fadeoverto 10 0.1>><</if>><</nobr>>There is a pond not too far from your campsite. It's brackish, and deadly cold, but that doesn't stop anyone from plunging into it and washing up with a hard little bar of soap. You help set up camp, build a fire, hang a pot, spread out bedrolls, and gather kindling. Halek sits in front of the fire and unwraps the purchases from Drun, having gone off into the little grove of trees beforehand to forage for additional herbs and mushrooms. You have to bite your tongue to keep from salivating as he cuts out scraps of dried meat, a few herbs, and some wilting vegetables, dumping it all into the pot with some boiling water. As an afterthought, he decides to splurge and drops in a chunk of pork fat, and you all watch it melt into the stew with delicious slowness. Ayla returns abruptly from washing up, her sandy braid heavy and dripping with water. "What're you doing?" she asks harshly, throwing down her dirty clothes. "I don't eat meat." Halek blinks at her from his slouch by the fire. "You don't?" "You didn't notice me not eating any of your bloody jerky this entire time?" "I wasn't paying attention." "Typical. No, I can't eat that—meat makes me sick. Always has." "There's hardtack in those bags over there." "You expect me to eat biscuits after a hard day of riding?" "I don't much care what you eat, to be honest." "Now, guys," Red begins soothingly. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Let them figure it out on their own.' 'letthemfigureitoutredaylaonown'>><<setred -1>><<setayla -1>><<sethalek -1>><<setcharisma -1>><<setloyal -5>><<set $cantbecommander += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"We\'re all tired and hungry. We don\'t need to argue."' 'werealltiredhungrynoneedargueaylared'>><<if $charisma gte 45>><<setred +1>><<setayla +1>><<sethalek +1>><<setcharisma +1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Halek, can\'t you just make a separate dish for Ayla?"' 'halekcantyoumakeseparatedishayla'>><<setayla +3>><<if $aylaromanceflag gte 3>><<set $aylaromanceflag += 1>><</if>><<sethalek -3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Ayla, can\'t you make your own meal?"' 'aylacantyoumakeyourownmeal'>><<sethalek +3>><<setayla -3>><</link>></li> </ul>

With Red's mediation, Ayla and Halek finally come to a compromise. He agrees to prepare her a separate pot with just vegetables—"weed soup," Halek calls it, a bit spitefully. <<include campii>>

<<nobr>><<if $charisma gte 45>> For a moment, Halek and Ayla stare at each other. Then Ayla blinks and relaxes her shoulders. <br><br> "You're right," she mutters. "Sorry, Halek. Ain't your fault. I'm just—cranky, you know. Saddle-sore." <br><br> He waves a hand. "I am, too," he says. "I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking. I'll make another pot without meat in it." <br><br> "Thanks." <br><br> "It's no trouble. It really makes you that sick, huh?" <br><br> "Yeah. Grew up eating tubers and whatnot—there ain't much meat to be had in the Jalis desert. So now my body doesn't like it." <br><br> "Hm. What about fish?" <br><br> "I can handle that if I have to, but if it tastes fishy…" <br><br> "I'll keep that in mind." <br><br> You catch Red smiling at you over the flames as you sit down against a log to relax. <br><br> <<include "campii">> <<else>> The two of them ignore you. There's several more minutes of bickering before Halek finally relents and agrees to make another pot for Ayla—"weed soup," he calls it, a bit spitefully—and you can finally all sit down to eat and relax. <br><br> <<include "campii">> <</if>><</nobr>>

He grumbles about a bit under his breath, but finally he relents and prepares a separate pot for Ayla. "Weed soup," Halek calls it, a bit spitefully. <<include "campii">>

Her eyes blaze for a moment; then she throws herself down and starts to prepare herself a separate pot. Halek passes her the necessary herbs and vegetables with something like satisfied silence. <<include "campii">>

The stew is surprisingly heartening, savory and delicious; Halek has a clear talent for cooking, and he has a small smile of pride as the camp quiets to slurps and hums of approval. The soup warms you as it slides down into your stomach: you catch hints of dark, fatty salt, and something herby… Then, suddenly, Ayla goes quite still. "What did you put in this?" Halek looks up from his bowl. "Nothing special. The meat, in ours. Some odd roots and herbs." “<i>What kind of roots and herbs</i>?” He frowns, then turns and opens a little pouch. "Some mushrooms from that grove of trees—and a plant. We Hunters call it ghostwort, on account of it being so pale and having a mild taste. We eat it all the time." "What's wrong, Ayla?" Red asks, concerned: all the blood seems to have drained from her face. Everyone gets to their feet when she begins to shake. "Show it to me, Halek," she says, her voice very quiet now. The Hunter, looking concerned now too, pulls out a sprig of white-green leaves that looks a bit like common mint. Ayla gives a low moan, shoots to her feet, and stumbles off into the brush. Red grabs the plant out of Halek's hand and holds it up to the firelight. "Oh, shit," he says. "This is witch's bane! It's poison to Mages!" As if to answer him, your stomach gives a dangerous, painful squeal. Halek looks more horrified than you've ever seen him. "I didn't know," he breathes. "We use it in our soups—Hunters are fine with it—" Red puts his hands on his knees. "It's fine. We'll be fine. We didn't eat enough to kill us, and it wasn't raw anyway, it will have been diluted. Worst case, we're in for a very bad night of food poisoning." "I'm so sorry," Halek says, rising to his feet. "What can I do? How can I help?" "You can't," Red begins, and then he's off like a bolt into the bushes too. "Oh—fuck." <ul class="choices"> <<if $specialization is "healer">><li><<link 'Good thing you\'re a Healer: you can start nullifying the effects of the witch\'s bane within your system now, then help the others.' 'goodthingyourehealerwitchesbane'>><<setastral +1>><<setmagic +1>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link 'You shoot off into the bushes, too.' 'campiii'>><<sethealth -5>><</link>></li> </ul>

You feel the glow of your magic burning in your stomach and settle in for a very long night. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "campiii">><</link>></center>

Later, Ayla wipes her mouth and glares daggers at Halek. "Fuck you. You—poisoner!" "I'm so sorry," Halek says, cradling his head in his hands as he sits on the camp's log. "I had no idea." "You want to be a cook or something, don't you? Do your research, asshat! You could have killed us!" "Technically—" Red begins weakly. "<i>I'm sorry</i>. It will never happen again." "You're damn right it won't! I'm not eating a thing <i>you</i> make!" "It was an accident." She makes a hissing noise through her teeth, all anger and scorn, before tossing her braid over her shoulder and storming off into the dark. Halek sighs and continues to cradle his head in his hands, without looking up. Red gives you a helpless look before he crawls over to his bedroll and slithers in, looking pallid and sickly. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Lay down next to Red.' 'talktored'>><<setred +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Go and find Ayla.' 'talktoayla'>><<setayla +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Talk to Halek.' 'talktohalek'>><<sethalek +3>><</link>></li> </ul>

He smiles weakly as you slide into the bedroll next to him. "How are you feeling?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I\'m all right, actually."' 'imallrightactuallyredtalkto'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I could ask you the same thing."' 'icouldaskyouthesamethingredtalkto'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I feel like death."' 'ifeellikedeathredtalkto'>><</link>></li> </ul>

"Lucky you," Red answers, letting his head fall back against his thin pillow with a groan. "I've got the chills, but the nausea's fading a little. But I don't want to say that around Halek." He glances at the slouching figure on the other side of camp, who's out of earshot. Then he lowers his voice. "I feel bad for him. He couldn't have known. Hell, I didn't know what witch's bane looked like until today." <<include "talktoredi">>

"Like Hael," Red answers, letting his head fall back against his thin pillow with a groan. "I've got the chills, but the nausea's fading a little. But I don't want to say that around Halek." He glances at the slouching figure on the other side of camp, who's out of earshot. Then he lowers his voice. "I feel bad for him. He couldn't have known. Hell, I didn't know what witch's bane looked like until today." <<include "talktoredi">>

"Same," he answers, letting his head fall back against his thin pillow with a groan. "But I don't want to say that around Halek." He glances at the slouching figure on the other side of camp, who's out of earshot. Then he lowers his voice. "I feel bad for him. He couldn't have known. Hell, I didn't know what witch's bane looked like until today." <<include "talktoredi">>

"I like him," Red says readily. "Don't get me wrong, though—I like everyone within the Shepherds. Halek is… calming to be around. Easygoing, laidback. He's a bit lazy, yes, but knowing his background, I understand why he's that way. It's pretty interesting, isn't it, that someone like him is essentially the leader of his people?" He pauses for a long time. "He reminds me of me, in some ways. I like being Archmage, and I accept my duty readily. But I understand Halek. He'd rather be off doing his own things." You talk for a while longer before drifting off to a peaceful and restorative sleep. <<include "talktoredii">>

"She's… interesting," Red says carefully, staring up at the night sky. "I like her, don't get me wrong—I like everyone within the Shepherds. She can be a little… tetchy. But once you get used to her you see how much she cares about people—much as she'd throttle you if she caught you saying it. I'd trust her to watch my back any day." You nod, and you talk for a while longer before drifting off to a peaceful and restorative slumber. <<include "talktoredii">>

"Oh, sure," Red answers, turning on his side and closing his eyes. "My bet is that Ayla will come creeping back in the middle of the night; she'll wake Halek up, if that's even possible, say sorry to him, and go to bed. He'll wake her up in the morning and apologize to her. They'll be fine." "You seem very confident." "I have four sisters," he says with a yawn. "I am <i>very</i> familiar with conflicts of this nature. Trust me. It'll all blow over in the morning." <<include "talktoredii">>

Red laughs softly. "It's really not that different from being Archmage," he whispers. "Better, actually, because I don't have that much pressure on me to… fix things. Look after things myself. As a Shepherd, I can take more of a backseat rather than lead. I think I quite like that." Then he glances at you. "What about you?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I didn\'t expect it, but it has its own charms."' 'didntexpectcharmsredtalk'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I didn\'t expect it, and I don\'t like playing referee."' 'didntexpectrefereered'>><<setloyal -5>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I love being a Shepherd, plain and simple."' 'ilovebeingsheapherdplanredtalk'>><<setloyal +5>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Meh." ' 'mehtalkredresponse'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Red smiles slightly. <<nobr>><<if $education is "Circle-trained">> "You always had a knack for corralling others in the Circle," he says. "It figures it would follow you into Shepherd life." <<else>> "People listen to you," he comments lightly. <<if $rank is "Captain">> "It's no wonder Blade made you captain so early." <</if>> <</if>><</nobr>> You talk for a while longer before drifting off to a peaceful and restorative sleep. <<include "talktoredii">>

Red nods slowly. "I get it. It's not a common person who enjoys mediating conflicts between others. Kind of makes you wonder how Blade got the job. …But please don't tell him I said that." You talk for a while longer before falling into a peaceful, restorative sleep. <<include "talktoredii">>

Red smiles a little. "I can tell," he says. "I'm glad we're all in it together." You talk for a while longer before falling into a peaceful, restorative sleep. <<include "talktoredii">>

Red nods slowly, and you fall into a contented quiet before drifting off to sleep. <<include "talktoredii">>

"Oh, what, like rubbing my head and feeding me—well, not soup, but something refreshing and restorative?" Red laughs, not easily embarrassed. "I mean, if you're volunteering…" "Then who will take care of me?" "We'll take turns. Use time-cards. Clock out." Then he catches your eye and begins to laugh. You talk for a while longer before falling into a peaceful, restorative sleep. <<include "talktoredii">>

"The stars are beautiful tonight," you remark, because that's all that catches your eye. And it's true: the sky is a marvelous black tapestry above you, its sheer dark fabric dotted with brilliant white diamond-glinting stars. Red turns onto his back, suddenly more animated. "You see that one?" He traces a constellation shaped like a griffin with his finger. "That's Wermarcht—it's said that a great Mage, a long time ago, actually traveled there. To the stars. But he never came back." <ul class="choices"> <<if $intelligence gte 45>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Probably because you can\'t breathe in space..."</div>' 'cantbreathespaceproblably'>><</link>><<else>><<disabled '"Probably because you can\'t breathe in space..."'>><</if>> <li><<link '"Seems like an allegory for something. Don\'t fly too close to the sun, don\'t play with fire, don\'t venture into the unknown without being aware of the consequences..."' 'allegoryfireunknownconsequences'>><<set $redharden += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"What about that one?" You point to a heart-shaped constellation.' 'whataboutthatonepointtoheartshapedoconstellation'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"That one\'s my favorite." You point to your favorite constellation.' 'thatonesmyfavoriteconstellation'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Red looks around at you with surprise. "You think? I haven't ever heard that theory, but I suppose that makes sense…" <<include "talktoredii">>

Red makes a humming sound. "You think? I figure he just didn't have his calculations right." <<include "talktoredii">>

Red blinks. "That's Hina," he says. "Named after the goddess, obviously. It's said that if lovers wish on that constellation, their love will shine long and bright… and when they die, they'll become stars in the constellation themselves." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"How utterly saccharine."' 'howutterlysaccharinered'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"That\'s so romantic."' 'starstoryredromance'>><<set $redromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Want to wish on it with me?"' 'wantwishuponstarwithrednight'>><<set $redromanceflag += 3>><<setred +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

He laughs. "There are a lot of old legends like that. Like there, look at Orgael…" You spend the rest of the night talking about constellations before you drift off to sleep. <<include "talktoredii">>

Red smiles fondly, still looking up at the stars. "Yes, I suppose it is," he agrees, before he points at another constellation. "And look, there's Orgael…" You spend the rest of the night talking about constellations before you drift off to sleep. <<include "talktoredii">>

You feel Red go very, very still beside you. Then he turns on his side to face you. "You want to?" he whispers, his green eyes reflecting the moonlight. "Could you stand to be made a star, orbiting me for all eternity?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Blush and look away. He\'s joking around, as always. "Forget it."' 'blushlookawayredjokes'>><<set $redromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Stare back at him. "What do you think?"' 'starebackatredstargreeneyes'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I wouldn\'t ask to wish on it with you if I couldn\'t, would I?"' 'iwouldntasktowishonstarifcouldntred'>><<set $redromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I could ask the same thing of you."' 'icouldasksamestarofyoured'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Red laughs and touches your shoulder, turning you back around to face him. "I'm only joking. Let's wish, then." <<include "conferstarmurmur">>

Red smiles, but his eyes look a little confused. "Let's wish, then," he whispers. <<include "conferstarmurmur">>

Red smiles a little at that, his eyes suddenly very intent, as if drinking in your every detail. Then he chuckles softly and brushes a lock of hair from your brow. <<nobr>><<if $aro is false and $aroace is false>> Despite yourself, your heart skips a beat. <</if>><</nobr>> "Let's wish, then," Red says in a low voice, still gazing at you fondly. <<include "conferstarmurmur">>

"Oh, definitely," Red says confidently, still speaking in a whisper. "Let's wish, then." <<include "conferstarmurmur">>

You confer for a while before murmuring your wish together to the stars. Then, peacefully, you drift off into a warm and restorative slumber. <<include "talktoredii">>

You spend the rest of the night talking about constellations before you drift off to sleep. <<include "talktoredii">>

<<nobr>><<if $redromanceflag gte 7>> At some point during the night, you swear you feel Red shifting beside you to draw your blanket over your shoulder… and maybe his hand brushes gently against your cheek. But it could be the stuff of dreams, with how sleepy you are... <br><br> <<include "hethmacoll">> <<else>> <<include "hethmacolli">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if settings.music is true>><<audio ":playing" fadeoverto 7 0>><</if>><</nobr>>You wade into the imposing darkness of the trees, the sounds of camp fading behind you as you step into the grove after Ayla. You find her standing by the trunk of an enormous tree, hugging her arms. Her broad shoulders seem to be trembling, but as you approach, they stop, and she glances back at you, her amber eyes half-glowing in the dark. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Are you alright?"' 'areyoualrightaylatalk'>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setayla +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You should go easy on him. He clearly feels like shit."' 'youshouldgoeasyonhimclearlyfeelsshit'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You shouldn\'t go running off like that. It\'s not professional."' 'shouldntgorunningaylaprofessional'>><<setloyal +5>><<setayla -3>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Wait and let her speak.' 'waitletaylaspeaktalk'>><<setayla +3>><</link>></li> </ul>

For a moment, it looks like she won't answer you. Then Ayla sighs and drops her shoulders. "No. I feel like shit. I <i>know</i> he didn't mean it— <<include "talktoaylai">>

For a moment, it looks like Ayla is opening her mouth to argue with you; but she sighs and drops her shoulders. "I know. I feel like shit. I <i>know</i> he didn't mean it— <<include "talktoaylai">>

Ayla scowls. "Professional, hell," she mutters. "Is it professional for him to poison us?" Then she sighs and drops her shoulders. "And it's not like I don't feel bad. I feel like shit, too. I know he didn't mean it. <<include "talktoaylai">>

Ayla sighs and drops her shoulders. "I feel like shit," she whispers. "I know he didn't mean it. <<include "talktoaylai">>

But there's just a part of me that… I don't know." She blows out a long breath, long and defeated. "I just… when I get scared, or mad, I fly into this crazy fight-or-flight mode. It's hard for me to trust people, or hear them out calmly. My first instinct is to just… lash out." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I don\'t blame you. You lived so much of your life alone. That\'s how you survived, by fighting."' 'idontblameyoulivedlifealoneaylasurvived'>><<setayla +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Place a hand on her shoulder. "You\'re okay. You don\'t need to change a thing. I like you as you are."' 'placehandonhershouldernoneedtochangeayla'>><<set $aylaromanceflag += 3>><<setayla +3>><<set $aylaharden += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"In some ways, you remind me of Trouble."' 'insomewaysyouremindmetroubleayla'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Well, it\'s good that you\'re aware of it. That means you can work on it."' 'wellitsgoodyoureawareaylameanswork'>><<set $aylaharden += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Yeah, you are pretty crazy."' 'yeahyouareprettycrazyayla'>><<setayla +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

"And not trusting anyone for kak," she agrees solemnly. "Yeah. But it doesn't mean I <i>like</i> it. I don't want anyone—to be scared of me, or anything." She sighs. "Maybe it was a mistake to join up. Maybe I'm not fit to be with the Shepherds." <<include "talktoaylaii">>

She gives you a small, tired smile. "Yeah?" You nod encouragingly, and for just a moment, Ayla lets herself melt into your side. Then, abruptly, she pulls away and says, "Maybe it was a mistake to join up. Maybe I'm not fit to be with the Shepherds." <<include "talktoaylaii">>

She snorts. "You think I want to be likened to that idiot?" Then she shakes her head. "No, it's different. Him, it's like… he's so loyal, and he cares about people so much, that when someone says a bad word about him or his friend, he can't help but start swinging. But you know, he's just as ready to be friends with the man he punched the lights out of, at the end of things? Just don't fuck with him, and you're alright. Me, I'm not like that. I'm just… <i>touchy</i>. Someone can do the littlest thing and they'll piss me off. I'm not used to being around people." She sighs again. "Maybe it was a mistake to join up. Maybe I'm not fit to be with the Shepherds." <<include "talktoaylaii">>

She offers you a wan smile. "Maybe. Yeah." Then the smile falls off her face, and she sighs. "Maybe it was a mistake to join up. Maybe I'm not fit to be with the Shepherds." <<include "talktoaylaii">>

Ayla gives a thick laugh. "Yeah." Then the smile falls off her face, and she sighs. "Maybe it was a mistake to join up. Maybe I'm not fit to be with the Shepherds." <<include "talktoaylaii">>

"Hey, you know what?" Ayla looks up fiercely. "Fuck you. I can do anything you can do!" She turns and stomps off into the trees, back towards camp again, muttering to herself. <<include "hethmacoll">>

Her fists clench against her arms, just once, before she relaxes again. "Let's go back," she mutters. "If Halek's still awake, I'll apologize to him. You need to rest—we're almost to Heth Macoll, you know." <<include "talktoaylaiii">>

She smiles at you: it's a surprisingly genuine smile, small but warm. "Nah, I won't. Thanks, <<c halfname>>." Then she claps your shoulder. "Let's go back. If Halek's still awake, I'll apologize to him. We can't keep you up much longer. You need to rest—we're almost to Heth Macoll, after all." <<include "talktoaylaiii">>

Ayla shifts from foot to foot—and you think you catch something like a dark, heated blush on her face before she clears her throat and turns away. But it's too dark to really tell. "Er—thanks, <<c halfname>>," she mutters finally, looking bashful. "I'll—uh—yeah, I appreciate that." Then she sweeps her braid back over her shoulder and coughs. "Let's go back. If Halek's still awake, I'll apologize to him. You need to rest—we're almost to Heth Macoll, after all." <<include "talktoaylaiii">>

You spend some time quietly conversing in the thick silence of the trees before returning to camp. <<include "hethmacoll">>

"I'm sorry," he says in a muffled tone as you sit beside him on the log. He doesn't look up from his position, his head hanging practically between his tall knees. "I truly didn't know. Are you alright?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I\'ll be fine. Some bad soup isn\'t going to take me down."' 'illbefinehalekbadsoupdown'>><<setcharisma +1>><<sethalek +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Don\'t worry. It was an honest accident." ' 'dontworryhonestaccidenthalek'>><<setcompassionate +1>><<sethalek +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You should be sorry. That was careless."' 'youshouldbesorrythatwascarelesshalek'>><<sethalek -3>><<setcompassionate -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I didn\'t even know witch\'s bane existed. So we can\'t expect <i>you</i> to have known."' 'ididntknowwitchsbaneexistedexpect'>><</link>></li> </ul>

He finally looks up and gives you a weak smile. <<include "talktohaleki">>

He pinches the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes. "I know. I feel awful." <<include "talktohaleki">>

He finally looks up and gives you a weak smile. <<include "talktohaleki">>

Then he sighs and turns back to look at the dark trees, which Ayla has disappeared into. "Do you think she'll be alright?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"She\'ll get over it."' 'halekaylawillgetoverit'>><<sethalek +1>><</link>></li> <<if $aylatime gte 1>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Ayla... isn\'t used to being around other people. She\'s suspicious and untrusting by nature. She\'s not going to react well to this, but she also forgives and forgets easily."</div>' 'aylaisntusedtobeingpeoplehaleksuspicious'>><<setayla +3>><<sethalek +3>><</link>><<else>><<disabled '"Ayla... isn\'t used to being around other people. She\'s suspicious and untrusting by nature. She\'s not going to react well to this, but she also forgives and forgets easily."'>><</if>> <li><<link '"You should apologize to her again when she comes back."' 'halekyoushouldapologizeaylaagain'>><<setayla +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"She\'s being unreasonable. Forget her."' 'aylasbeingunreasonablehalekforgether'>><<setayla -3>><</link>></li> </ul>

Halek gives you a wan smile. "Thanks." <<include "talktohalekii">>

Halek nods slowly. "That… makes sense, I suppose. She's not used to compromising with others… having to get along. And she's probably used to people trying to kill her if she lowers her guard." You nod. "It's a knee-jerk reaction, an emotional reflex. I think once she's had some time to cool down, she'll see that you meant no harm. She might even apologize to <i>you</i>." Halek shakes his head. "I wouldn't need it. Just let me carry on feeling like dogshit for, oh, three more days or so. After that, we can put all this behind us." <<include "talktohalekii">>

He nods slowly. "I will." <<include "talktohalekii">>

Halek gives you a wan smile. "I think she's within her rights, but thanks." <<include "talktohalekii">>

You sit together in silence for a while, watching the fire sputter and send up clouds of sparks into the night air. Finally Halek says, "I always told myself that I wanted to get away from the Reach. Away from everyone who—revered me, me and Naolin, everyone who treated us like celebrities and groveled over us just because we were… born on a certain night. Born as twins." He shakes his head. "I'm glad I left… at least temporarily. But I'm finding it harder to adjust than I thought." <ul class="choices"> <<if $charisma gte 30>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Because you\'re not used to people disagreeing with you?"</div>' 'becausehalekyourenotusedtodisagree'>><<sethalek +3>><</link>><<else>><<disabled '"Because you\'re not used to people disagreeing with you?"'>><</if>> <li><<link '"Oh, please. Talk to me when you have real problems."' 'ohpleasehalektalktomerealproblems'>><<sethalek -8>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Do you regret leaving? Do you want to go back?"' 'doregretleavingwantbackgohalek'>><</link>></li> </ul>

He nods. "Naolin and I… we were barely ever punished. The Hunters are generally harsh, disciplined parents, but us?" He smiles slightly. "No one wanted to raise a hand against their two prophesied saviors. No, I'm not used to anyone… shouting at me. Showing their anger with me. Disliking me—at least obviously—or arguing with me." He shrugs. "I find it refreshing, in a way. I don't dislike it. It's just all… new. I sometimes don't know how to react." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I think you\'re doing just fine."' 'becausehalekyourenotusedtodisagreei'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You\'ll get used to it. There\'s no rush."' 'becausehalekyourenotusedtodisagreei'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Welcome to the real world."' 'becausehalekyourenotusedtodisagreei'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Halek's mouth quirks. "Thanks, <<c firstname>>," he says. "You, at least, I can trust to tell it to me straight." <<include "talktohalekiii">>

Halek frowns slightly, and it feels like he withdraws away from you, although he doesn't move. "Mmm," is all he says, staring into the fire. <<include "talktohalekiii">>

"Oh, Hael no," Halek says with a little smirk. "Back to Moonsilk? I'd rather face a firing squad." He laughs lightly. "No, I have no regrets. I'm just expressing how I feel right now." <<include "talktohalekiii">>

Finally he rises and looks off into the dark. "I'll go find Ayla," Halek says. "Get some rest, <<c firstname>>. You're going to need it for Heth Macoll." You spend a few moments conversing quietly under the stars before he trudges off into the treeline, looking like he's about to be executed. <<include "hethmacoll">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "hethmacolli">><<nobr>><<if settings.music is true>><<audio ":playing" fadeout>><</if>><</nobr>><</link>></center>

In the morning, things calm down, and Halek and Ayla go back to normal, talking amiably and moving around the camp in sync. It seems that all is forgiven between them, and the tensions between your group members fade to nothing. Red glances you over a breakfast of runny eggs from Drun and practically sags with visible relief. With that kerfuffle over, you move on and resume your journey, saddling the ahfuri and Halek's elk and leaping off towards the rising sun. And soon enough, you leave the hill country and mountains behind you… and a few days later, you finally arrive at Heth Macoll. The sun breaks free from the horizon in a dull flash of crimson as you make your descent towards the city, the eerie dawn light fleeing down the steppes in a steady wave. The last clinging, bluish shadows of the night ebb like a retreating tide, and the sun's watery rays fall on the vast, undisturbed expanse of frost-rimed dust lying before you, turning it a sickly red. It gives Heth Macoll the impression of a fetid, bloated corpse lying in a basin of blood. The city-state is famous for the red sand that stretches around it, as well as for the giant dustbowl that it sits in: famous poems have likened it to a pearl laying at the bottom of a rust-colored lake, but the beauty of that image eludes the real-life thing. The city itself looks like a half-crumbling metropolis even from miles away, red-mortar buildings rising up out of the sand like jagged teeth from gums. It was once a great fortress against the hostile elements of the strange red desert surrounding it; now it's a broken, sprawling wreck fading into the sand, overrun by scavengers, looters, and cutthroats. Red says that in its heyday, the city once sported lush gardens, bustling trade depots, and forums of lively cultural exchange. "Looks like we missed its heyday by about four hundred years," Ayla remarks dryly, regarding the great decrepit city with distaste. Halek sits atop his elk and stares down at the place. He whistles. "The arena is somewhere in the middle of the city. We'll have a devil of a time navigating that." He points at the lively stream of people swarming through the city streets, readying for the opening of the markets—and, presumably, the gambling and smoking dens. Then he glances at you. "Get ready. That place looks like it could swallow you whole." <<page_break "Next" "aliasesss">>

Before you make your way into the city proper, you review logistics with your team. "I know you'll be going by an alias," Red comments. <<nobr>><<if $rielinvestigation is true>> "I think <<c falsename>> <<c falsesurname>> was what Riel put?" <br><br> You nod. <br><br> <<include "hethmacollii">> <<else>> "What was it, again?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Lyra..."' 'namechangeinfoii'>><<set $falsename to "Lyra">><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Amaya..."' 'namechangeinfoii'>><<set $falsename to "Amaya">><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Nahri..."' 'namechangeinfoii'>><<set $falsename to "Nahri">><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Circe..."' 'namechangeinfoii'>><<set $falsename to "Circe">><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Tynan..."' 'namechangeinfoii'>><<set $falsename to "Tynan">><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Vestier..."' 'namechangeinfoii'>><<set $falsename to "Vestier">><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Something else..."' 'somethingelsenamechangeinfoii'>><</link>></li> </ul> <</if>><</nobr>>

Your false name will be <<textbox "$falsename" "">>... <<include "namechangeinfoii">>

$falsename <<textbox "$falsesurname" "">>. <<include "hethmacollii">>

<<nobr>><<if $falsename is "Lyra" and $falsesurname is "Harpe">> Ayla snickers abruptly. "Seriously, your fake name is Lyre Harp? Riel cleared that?" <br><br> "It's <i>Lyra Harpe</i>." <br><br> "Yeah, okay." <br><br> Red ignores her. <</if>><</nobr>> "Right," he says. "But if we want to communicate with you in there incognito, we should use your codename. And you should use ours." "Callsigns," Halek reminds him. After you returned from the Reach, the Shepherds began implementing a new system of organization to deal with the Order's influx of new members. Officers were divided into two divisions: the Solar Corps, which handles non-specialized and everyday tasks like patrols, interviews, and normal day-to-day routines; and the Lunar Corps, which contains elite officers more equipped to lead their own units and handle much more difficult, dangerous, and specialized issues and missions. You have been assigned to the Lunar Corps, and as such you were issued a callsign—along with everyone else—to be referred to in discreet communications or in the field where your real name or even a fake identity wouldn't be suitable. The others gave you the privilege of choosing your own callsign, so you chose… <<include "callsign">>

But wait, only Faceless Lords have called you that so far: the demons seem to know you by that name. Are you sure you want to use it as a callsign? <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Sure, why the hell not.' 'callsigni'>><<setintelligence -3>><<setcourage +3>><<set $callsign to "Brightburner">><</link>></li> <li><<link 'On second thought...' 'callsign'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Your callsign will be... <<textbox "$callsign" "">> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>'>><<if $callsign is "">><<script>> Dialog.setup("Error"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("errorcallsign").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>><<elseif $callsign is "cock" or $callsign is "Cock" or $callsign is "poop" or $callsign is "Poop" or $callsign is "shit" or $callsign is "Shit" or $callsign is "bitches" or $callsign is "Bitches" or $callsign is "pussy" or $callsign is "Pussy" or $callsign is "sluts" or $callsign is "Sluts">> <<script>> Dialog.setup("Error"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("errorcallsign").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>> <<elseif $callsign is $firstname or $callsign is $surname or $callsign is "Tempest" or $callsign is "Voyager" or $callsign is "Spectre" or $callsign is "Keykeeper" or $callsign is "Starfall" or $callsign is "Kingslayer" or $callsign is "Deadeye" or $callsign is "Thorn" or $callsign is "Thorne" or $callsign is "Architect" or $callsign is "Magpie" or $callsign is "Belladonna" or $callsign is "Reaper" or ($callsign is "brightburner" or $callsign is "Brightburner") or ($callsign is "Bright burner" or $callsign is "Bright Burner") or ($callsign is "bright-burner" or $callsign is "Bright-burner")>> <<script>> Dialog.setup("Error"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("errorcallsign").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>> <<else>><<goto "callsigni">><</if>><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<if $callsign is $firstname>> You can't use your real name as your callsign! <br><br> <center><<button 'Return'>><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>></center> <<elseif $callsign is $surname>> You can't use your real name as your callsign! <br><br> <center><<button 'Return'>><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>></center> <<elseif $callsign is "Tempest">> This is Ayla's callsign, you can't use the same as someone else! <br><br> <center><<button 'Return'>><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>></center> <<elseif $callsign is "Voyager">> This is Red's callsign, you can't use the same as someone else! <br><br> <center><<button 'Return'>><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>></center> <<elseif $callsign is "Spectre">> This is Blade's callsign, you can't use that! <br><br> <center><<button 'Return'>><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>></center> <<elseif $callsign is "Keykeeper">> This is Shery's callsign, you can't use that! <br><br> <center><<button 'Return'>><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>></center> <<elseif $callsign is "Starfall">> This is someone else's callsign, you can't use that! <br><br> <center><<button 'Return'>><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>></center> <<elseif $callsign is "Deadeye">> This is Trouble's callsign, you can't use that! <br><br> <center><<button 'Return'>><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>></center> <<elseif $callsign is "Thorn" or $callsign is "Thorne">> This is Tallys's callsign, you can't use that! <br><br> <center><<button 'Return'>><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>></center> <<elseif $callsign is "Architect">> This is Riel's callsign, you can't use that! <br><br> <center><<button 'Return'>><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>></center> <<elseif $callsign is "Magpie">> This is Chase's callsign, you can't use that! <br><br> <center><<button 'Return'>><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>></center> <<elseif $callsign is "Belladonna">> This is someone else's callsign; please choose something else! <br><br> <center><<button 'Return'>><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>></center> <<elseif $callsign is "Reaper">> This is Halek's callsign, you can't use that! <br><br> <center><<button 'Return'>><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>></center> <<elseif ($callsign is "brighburner" or $callsign is "Brightburner") or ($callsign is "Bright burner" or $callsign is "Bright Burner") or ($callsign is "bright-burner" or $callsign is "Bright-burner")>> But wait, only Faceless Lords have called you that so far: the demons seem to know you by that name. Are you sure you want to use it as a callsign? <br><br> <center><<button 'Confirm'>><<run Dialog.close()>><<setintelligence -5>><<setcourage +1>><<set $callsign to "Brightburner">><<goto 'callsigni'>><</button>></center> <br> <center><<button 'Cancel'>><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>></center> <<else>> You can't use that as a callsign! Please enter something else. <br><br> <center><<button 'Return'>><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>></center> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<notify_codex_story "Callsigns">><</nobr>>Red nods. "Right. <<c callsign>>. And I'm Voyager, Ayla's Tempest, and Halek's Reaper." You spend a little time going over your fake identities and stories again before you notice Halek turning and pulling something out of his pack. To your surprise he withdraws what looks to be a thin metal collar: for a brief moment you think he's going to put it on you, to build up your ruse of being an enslaved captive, but instead he clasps it on himself with a grimace. "What is that?" you ask as he grits his teeth and takes deep breaths through his nose. "Experiment," is all Halek is able to grunt. Red, ever the talkative one, takes over. "Ever since you came from the Reach, Halek's asked us about what we'd ever do if we were in a situation where there was a de—an Endarkened nearby and he wasn't allowed to go after it," he explains. "You know, blood-rage, berserker mode, uncontrollable rampages, et cetera. Over the last few months Riel and Neon worked together with him to develop something of a… prototype. The metal's Bound with enchantments to make it act a little like thoret: it's supposed to suppress his Hunter powers, voluntarily of course, until he removes it—including the sense that drives him into the blood-rage at the scent of a demon. Unfortunately, field tests have shown that whether he can even <i>sense</i> the demon is pretty spotty. So far he's only been able to catch wind of Revenants… but at least he won't fly a rage against his will, and he can take it off whenever he wants." "Unfortunately, it also happens to be <i>really</i> uncomfortable," Halek says tightly. "But after a while, it's not so bad." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"You don\'t have to wear that thing if you don\'t want to."' 'youdonthavetowearthatthingredifyou'>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"That\'s pretty interesting. I\'ll have to ask Riel how it works when I get back."' 'thatsprettyinterestingillhavetoaskriel'>><<setintelligence +1>><<setriel +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Riel and Neon could solve an age-old Hunter problem within a matter of months?"' 'rielcouldsolveanageoldhunter'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Whatever. Just don\'t let it screw up the mission."' 'whateverjustdontletitscrewupmission'>><<sethalek -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Halek shakes his head. "I want to," he manages. He's still wincing, but slowly his discomfort seems to be subsiding. "For as long as I can, anyway. If this works, it could be… life-changing." <<include "callsignii">>

Red nods. "Neon's a Binder, and a very innovative one, at that. And Riel, although magically ungifted, is pretty brilliant. I keep telling him he's wasted on business." <<include "callsignii">>

"It's not exactly solved," Halek butts in then, still wincing—but his discomfort seems to be subsiding. "It still hurts like a swift kick to the teeth, and we don't know the side effects. It'll need years of testing. And the Hunters have never been that forthcoming about our problems with people outside of our kind. I bet if we'd told others sooner, there'd be some clever spell for it by now or something. But we just have to keep our secrets." Red shifts. "Riel also said it had the potential to wear off after enough uses. I guess we'll see." <<include "callsignii">>

"I won't," he answers sardonically, his discomfort subsiding. <<include "callsignii">>

Ayla taps her foot impatiently, leaning against her ahfuri's side. She jerks her head towards Heth Macoll just as a high tinny horn blares from one of its minarets, announcing that the city gates are opening for the day. "Well, now that we've got all that squared away—can we go?" She glances at you. "It's time to sell you off to the arena, <<c firstname>>." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "arenaselloff">><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<if settings.music is true>><<audio "hethmacoll" volume 0.1 play>><</if>><</nobr>>Moving into Heth Macoll proper feels a little like stepping into the bowels of some hot-blooded alien creature. A riot of color and sound and scent slams into you as you step into the city: there are the smells of dark exotic spices, musky perfumed silks, strange warm fruits, human sweat, fire for the streetside grills, and animal dung; dust rises from the tramping of thousands of feet to choke you. Blissfully, the winter day is cool—you can't imagine what the streets would be like in the blazing heat of summer, with all of these bodies crammed against you, shuttling you this way and that. Apparently the city was once known for its colorful tile mosaics and red clay roofs; your eyes nearly cross with all the dizzying splashes of color, mainly blue and white with patches of rusty red and gold, and your senses feel bombarded with all the things going on in the crowds. You stable your mounts, which would otherwise be very eye-catching to the regular city-dwellers, and then forge your way through the market district towards the rendezvous point with the Heth Macoll Thieves Guild: some sort of fountain at the city center. As you fight your way against the crowd, Ayla says through her teeth: "This is worse than bloody Haven. Is it always this crowded?" Overhearing her, Red shakes his head. "I don't think so." Halek glances over. "They can't all be here for the gladiator fights, can they?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"If they are, then we know hosting an arena is a very profitable trade."' 'arenaselloffi'>><<setintelligence +1>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Bloodthirsty animals, the lot of them."' 'arenaselloffi'>><<setloyal -1>><<setcompassionate -2>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Let\'s not jump to any conclusions. Maybe the city\'s always like this."' 'arenaselloffi'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Stay close and keep your eyes peeled. We can\'t afford to get separated in the crowd."' 'arenaselloffi'>><<setloyal +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Finally you make your way into a side-street, leading to a little plaza that gives you some breathing room from the crush of bodies. Here there are stalls filled with gold souvenirs and tokens, all trinkets of the One-God. You stop before an array of tiny suns with eyes set into their centers, puzzled by the sudden religious display. From what you've heard of Heth Macoll, this is not exactly a puritan city: in fact, it's the opposite, a hotbed of sin, vice, and illegal activity. Ayla crowds against your left side, hissing, "We ain't got time for souvenirs—and this is all shit anyway!" while Halek murmurs helpfully, "It's brass painted to look like gold." The merchant manning the stall gives you a toothy grin. "Ready to pay obeisance to the Hierophant, are you?" Although she looks to be a frail old woman, her Common tongue has a coarse and guttural harshness to it: the Heth Macollans are known to be a rude and outspoken people. You look up at her. "What do you mean, the Hierophant?" The merchant stares at you. "You're not here as a religious pilgrim?" She gestures with one wizened, craggy hand towards the flowing crowds in the main thoroughfare just beyond your tiny plaza. "The Western Hierophant is here, visiting the city! Thousands have come to Heth Macoll to pray to him!" Beside you, Halek grunts, fingering the metal collar hidden beneath his shirt. "That explains all the people," he says under his breath. "And the religious displays." Red crosses his arms. "So it's just a quick way to make a buck on the faithful." The merchant smiles as if he'd complimented her, revealing blackened teeth. "Knew you looked sharp <i>and</i> handsome." He shifts uncomfortably and coughs, and Ayla hides a snicker behind her hand. You glance back at the crowds as the others continue to talk back and forth with the merchant. The four Hierophants are, collectively, the leaders of the Church of the One-God, answering only to the Autarch herself. Each Hierophant is in charge of maintaining and growing the faith in their respective region; each is ultimately responsible for appointing priests and augurs, establishing new churches in places that might not have them, and spreading the word of the One-God throughout their domain and converting non-believers to the "true faith." Each Hierophant is equally powerful in their own right, able to issue separate creeds, doctrines, or interpretations of the One-God's will to the followers of their specific region. Acolytes of the Western Hierophant, for example, may worship or pray in different ways from devotees of the Southern Hierophant, and followers of the Northern Hierophant are said to agree with more traditional interpretations of the church's Doctrines. The four leaders must ultimately agree with and especially defer to the Autarch, but otherwise they wield immense political power and social influence. Some people even view them as mortal extensions and mouthpieces of the One-God Xerself, worshiping and idolizing the Hierophants as pieces of the holy whole. The Western Hierophant, you remember, is more radical and progressive than the others, known for making constant circuits of his region in order to have maximum outreach with his followers. That must be why he's here, in Heth Macoll, rather than in Orlop, the seat of his power. And that must be why there are so many visitors to the city as well, pilgrims hoping to catch a glimpse of his Holiness. And if there are going to be crowds in church… "There are going to be crowds in the arena," Red finishes. "You can't have religious redemption without some sin first." "Good news for us," Ayla says in an undertone, folding her arms. She waits until the merchant turns away to greet other customers, trying to sell a tourist from Leyholm a rattling anklet made of animal bone. "It means the arena's going to snatch you right up, to load up on fighters. They need the extra entertainment for the tourists." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Joy." <b>[SARCASM]</b>' 'arenaselloffii'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"This is lucky for us. Let\'s not waste the opportunity."' 'arenaselloffii'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Let\'s keep going, then."' 'arenaselloffii'>><</link>></li> <<if $belief is "one-god">><li><<link '"Could you not talk about people\'s faith like that?" Red\'s comment rubbed you the wrong way.' 'peoplefaithredcommentrubbed'>><<setred -3>><<setfaith +3>><<set $halekfaithknow to true>><<setcourage +1>><<setcharisma -1>><</link>></li><</if>> </ul>

<<nobr>><<if $education is "Circle-trained">> He blinks, then rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. "You're right. I'm sorry, I forgot that you were—" <<else>> He blinks, then rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. "Sorry. I didn't realize you were…" <</if>><</nobr>> "A follower?" You turn away. "Faith isn't just something that's sold, something that cons people." "So you believe in the One-God?" Ayla asks with interest. You meet her eye. "I do." "So do I," Halek butts in then, very calmly and mildly. You all turn to stare at him. "What?" The Hunter looks around, half-lidded and bland. "You think because my people want to ride Narthax's—" Red coughs loudly. "—you think I do too?" You don't really know what to say to that. Ayla shakes her head. "Let's save this talk for some other time. We need to get a move on." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "arenaselloffii">><</link>></center>

"Hold a moment," the old vendor says, catching your elbow with a bony hand. "You ignore the customs of Heth Macoll, <i>yanaru</i>." It's a polite—if there's such a thing as polite in this city—word for <i>foreigner</i>. "I gave you information that you needed. The least you could do is buy something. A trinket… to remember your travels." You cast another glance at her selection while Ayla pulls impatiently on your cloak. It's a diverse array, and not <i>everything</i> is shoddily-made. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Pull your arm out of the old woman\'s grip. "I don\'t owe you a thing."' 'glitterlady'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Back away apologetically. "Sorry. Maybe next time."' 'glitterlady'>><</link>></li> <<if $cainejoin is true and $gold gte 1>><<link '<div class="money-item">Pick up the tiny toy figurine of a gladiator. This would be a good souvenir for Caine. <b>[1 DEUCALION]</b> </div>' 'pickuptinytogladiatorforcaine'>><<setgold -1>><<set $souvenirgladiator to true>><<setcompassionate +5>><<setloyal -1>><</link>><</if>> <<if $gold gte 3>><<link '<div class="money-item">Pick up a tiny replica of Heth Macoll, small enough to sit on your finger. This would be a good memento for yourself. <b>[3 DEUCALIONS]</b></div>' 'cackle'>><<set $souvenirhethmacoll to true>><<setgold -3>><</link>><<else>><<disabled "Pick up a tiny replica of Heth Macoll, small enough to sit on your finger. This would be a good memento for yourself. <b>[3 DEUCALIONS]</b>">><</if>> <<if $gold gte 5>><<link '<div class="money-item">Pick up a native flower from the region, the Leonic Wild Rose, called such for its resemblence to a desert lion\'s mane. <b>[5 DEUCALIONS]</b></div>' 'cackle'>><<set $flowercollection += 1>><<set $leonicrose to true>><<setgold -5>><</link>><<else>><<disabled "Pick up a dried native flower from the region, the Leonic Wild Rose, called such for its resemblence to a desert lion\'s mane. <b>[5 DEUCALIONS]</b>">><</if>> <<if $gold gte 5>><<link '<div class="money-item">Turn to Red. "Do you want anything?" <b>[5 DEUCALIONS]</b></div>' 'turntoreddoyouwantanythingfivedeuc'>><<setred +3>><<set $redromanceflag += 1>><<setgold -5>><</link>><<else>><<disabled "Turn to Red. \"Do you want anything?\" <b>[5 DEUCALIONS]</b>">><</if>> <<if $gold gte 5>><<link '<div class="money-item">Turn to Ayla. "Do you want anything?" <b>[5 DEUCALIONS]</b></div>' 'turntoayladoyouwantanythignfivedecu'>><<setayla +3>><<set $aylaromanceflag += 1>><<setgold -5>><</link>><<else>><<disabled "Turn to Ayla. \"Do you want anything?\" <b>[5 DEUCALIONS]</b>">><</if>> <<if $gold gte 5>><<link '<div class="money-item">Turn to Halek. "Do you want anything?" <b>[5 DEUCALIONS]</b></div>' 'turntohalekdoyouwantanythingfivedecu'>><<sethalek +3>><<setgold -5>><</link>><<else>><<disabled "Turn to Halek. \"Do you want anything?\" <b>[5 DEUCALIONS]</b>">><</if>> </ul>

The old woman's eyes glitter. "We'll see." Ayla makes a huffing sound and drags you away. "Ignore her. Let's go." <<include "arenaselloffiii">>

Red glances at your selection and smiles. "He'll go crazy over that." <<include "cackle">>

The old woman cackles, taking your coin with one knobby hand. "A fine choice." Then she bobs a mocking curtsy. "Enjoy your stay in our fine city." Ayla makes a huffing sound and drags you away. "Done? Then let's go." <<include "arenaselloffiii">>

Red raises his eyebrows, then shoots you a surprised smile. "Me? You're going to buy me a souvenir?" "Do you want one?" you ask with a smile. "It seems I have no choice but to get one, so…" Red takes a look over the cart, then selects a slim, ornately-decorated volume: a book of local stories and legends. "Thank you, <<c halfname2>>," he says, giving you a quick side-hug and a boyish smile. A dimple appears at his right cheek. "This is a kind gift. I'll treasure it always." Ayla rolls her eyes before proceeding to drag you away from the cart. "Glad we could have fun shopping in the middle of a mission. All done here? Then let's go." <<include "arenaselloffiii">>

The Wind-Mage stiffens in surprise, then stares at you as if you've grown a second head. "Who, me?" You suppress a smile. "Yes, you. It seems I'm supposed to buy something, and I'd like to buy something for you, so…" Ayla stares for another long moment before she looks away, an embarrassed, baffled expression on her face. "Erm… thanks," she mutters, suddenly avoiding your eye. She looks intently at the vendor's selection before pointing abruptly at a slender totem carved out of jade: a cactus, strung on a leather thong. "I'll take that. If that's okay." You nod and pay for the item; the shopkeeper hands it over, and Ayla swiftly unsheathes her quarterstaff and binds the cactus totem to the neck of it, leaving it to dangle with a few other trinkets and totems. She sends you a small smile before looking away again, punching your shoulder gently. "Thanks, $halfname. That's… that's kind of you. I'll… look at it lots. So thanks." Halek hides a snicker behind his hand, and Red suddenly becomes very interested in the pattern of birds wheeling above in the sky. Ayla instantly scowls and turns on her heel, swinging her braid over her shoulder. "Come on. Daylight's going. We need to get a move on." <<include "arenaselloffiii">>

Halek starts, as if surprised you addressed him. Then he arches a brow, casts a wary eye over the cart, and then reaches over and picks up a packet of local spices. "I can pay for it," he begins, but you wave him off and hand over the coin. The old woman cackles, taking your coin with one knobby hand. "A fine choice." Then she bobs a mocking curtsy. "Enjoy your stay in our fine city." "Thank you," Halek says to you, gifting you a quiet smile. "That's… kind of you. I appreciate it." Ayla makes a huffing sound and begins to drag you away from the cart. "All done shopping, then? Yes? Then let's go." <<include "arenaselloffiii">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "arenaselloffiv">><</link>></center>

Finally, you reach the fountain in the center of the city where you're supposed to meet the Heth Macoll Thieves Guild. To your surprise, it's not really a fountain at all: it's more like a large pillar made of naturally-formed mineral and clay surrounded by a shallow pool—but both are dry and devoid of water. Red pauses, staring up at the strange formation with interest. "They call this a fountain? Where's the water?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'You\'re too busy looking around for your contact to take much notice.' 'street'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'You can\'t help but stare at the "fountain," too.' 'fountain'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

<<nobr>><<if settings.music is true>><<audio ":playing" fadeoverto 10 0>><</if>><</nobr>>You stop in front of the fountain, trying to look nondescript and unassuming, but it's hard not to stare at the thing. The base of it, the same dull red clay that surrounds the rest of the city, gleams rustlike in the winter sun, but the minerals coating the top of the pillar—leftover residue from water when it actually ran, you surmise—glint in a rich rainbow of colors, shining in the sunlight like an iridescent beacon. "I've heard of this," Ayla says then, crossing her muscular arms and jutting her hip out. "This is Etu Yavesh, the Fountain Rock—a gift from the water goddess, Dewi. It's supposed to be the heart of Heth Macoll. One day the water just sprang up here, out of the ground, and that's how this city came to be, spreading outwards from this point. They say drinking from Etu's water gives one magical vigor, or the gods' blessing, just like the hot springs that are here in the city, too; that's how the city's founders found the strength to carve the place out of the desert, supposedly. I guess the water's rich with minerals and comes from the same source, deep underground." She pauses, searching for the words. "Etu is a… not manmade, it's a natural thing." "A geyser?" Red offers. "Do you know how often it flows?" Ayla shrugs. "We could ask around. Maybe it's gone dry." "It hasn't," a voice says from behind you, causing you all to whip around. "Etu Yavesh goes according to the cycles of the moons. It's the Time of Slumber now, which lasts a few sennights—but soon enough it'll burst forth again for the Time of Plenty. I think the Hierophant's timed his big holiday speech to coincide with that day... as if he has anything to do with it. Still, the suckers always fall for the show." <<include "ven">>

You busy yourself with scanning the street subtly, your eyes passing over dozens of faces as they push past you. There are many streets and alleyways shooting off of this central plaza, like rays bursting forth from a sun; down one tiny corridor you see some men hunched over a milk crate, playing some gambling game with cups and die. In another you see two women fighting over a long bolt of cloth as an anxious vendor clutches his hair. No sign of the thief you're supposed to meet, yet. Halek, beside you, flares his nostrils and says, "With this collar on, I can't smell demons, but I can sure smell everything else." "That's what living in a big city is like," you tell him, your eyes still moving through the crowds. Halek grunts. "I suppose." But then he opens his mouth, letting the air whistle down his throat in that curious way the Hunters have, as if they can scent and taste the wind itself. Maybe they can. "But there's something else here, too. Something different from Haven. A… manic feeling. An energy. Like excitement, or… bloodlust." You look at him. "Because of the arenas?" He wrinkles his nose. "Because of everything." "That'll be the Hierophant," a voice says from behind you, causing you all to whip around. "He likes those animal sacrifices, you know, the ones they do for the One-God, so the whole city's been slaughtering goats for his arrival." <<include "ven">>

<<set $ven to 0>>A slender green-eyed person with cropped, pale blue hair stands behind your group, looking amused as you take in xer brightly-colored clothes and the fat coinpouch at xer hip. Xe cocks xer head at you and says in a low voice, "<<c callsign>>?" "Verdant," you answer, the codeword you're supposed to give in response. The thief nods, then jerks xer head towards a side-street leading away from the plaza with the dormant fountain. "Let's get going. There's supposed to be a parade coming through here in a bit, for the Hierophant, and we don't want to risk getting caught in the crowd." Xe falls into step in front of your group, talking as comfortably as if you've known each other all your lives. To outside eyes, it looks like someone leading a group of visiting friends around the city, giving them the grand tour. Which is probably exactly what the thief wants. "I'm Ven," xe says in an undertone, tucking xer hands into xer pockets. "My boss sent me here as a favor to Chase Trinaeste, who's an old friend of hers." Xe glances at you curiously. "So you're the new Order he's joined up with, eh? You don't look like much." Xer tone is frank and inoffensive, but the way xe watches you out of the corner of xer eye tells you that this is a test. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Go along with the insult. "Thanks, that\'s the idea."' 'goalonginsultthanksidea'>><<setcunning +1>><<setcharisma +1>><<setcourage -1>><<set $ven += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Touch your weapon. "You want to take that back?"' 'touchweaponyouwanttotakethatback'>><<setcompassionate -1>><<setcourage +1>><<setcharisma -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Stay calm. "What were you expecting, exactly?"' 'staycalmwhatexpectingexactly'>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Redirect xer attention to something else. "So why the huge coinpurse? Seems a bit conspicuous for a thief, no?"' 'redirectxerattentiontosomethingelsecoinpurse'>><<setintelligence +1>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Ignore xer and don\'t rise to xer bait.' 'ignorexerdontrisexerbait'>><<set $ven += 1>><</link>></li> </ul>

"If we stood out, that'd defeat the purpose, wouldn't it?" Ven makes an unimpressed sound. "Only we're supposed to make you out to be a great warrior the arena <i>has</i> to have. So… you looking like that doesn't help much, does it?" <<include "streeti">>

Xe casts a glance at your $mainweapon and snorts, unimpressed. "<<c she>> always this hotheaded?" xe asks Red, who frowns at xer. "That doesn't bode well for your mission, does it? They're gonna say way nastier things in the arena." <<include "streeti">>

Xe shrugs. "Dunno. Something more… <i>heroic</i>, I suppose. That's what the arena expects, anyway." <<include "streeti">>

Ven glances down at the pouch, then snorts. "Usually it's bait," xe answers. "Seeing if any cutpurses or urchins want to take a run at it. If they do and they're not part of Thieves Guild, we punish them for stealing on our turf. Thieves Guild owns this area, see. Only we're allowed to steal here." "How do you punish them?" Ayla asks then, the shiny end of her staff knocking against her shoulder in tandem with her steps. Ven looks back at her blandly. "Usually cut off their fingers. A hand if they're lippy or a repeat offender." Halek frowns. "Chase's thieves don't go that far." "That's Chase's problem, then." Xe eyes your group again. "Fearsome Shepherds, are you? Queasy at the idea of a little blood? The arena's going to eat you up." <<include "streeti">>

Xe snorts. "Playing the strong, silent type, huh? The arena's got plenty of that. All brawn, no brain." <<include "streeti">>

<<nobr>><<if $redromanceflag gte 5 and ($redromanceflag gt $aylaromanceflag)>> "They will treat $them well, won't they?" Red asks then, his face calm but his voice a bit anxious. He doesn't look at you, but you can tell he's worried and trying to hide it. <br><br> Ven shrugs. "They're Diminished slaves in there," xe says, xer voice flat. From xer hair and coloring, you'd assume xe was a Mage, but xe lacks the <i>iladrin</i>, and you can't feel any magic coming off of xem. "I can't vouch for what it's like. But I've heard they treat their better fighters as well as can be, yeah. Unhappy gladiators aren't very good ones. I doubt you'll be whipped or anything, if that helps." <br><br> Red runs a hand through his hair, looking uncomfortable. <br><br> <<elseif $aylaromanceflag gte 5>> "They will treat $them well, won't they?" Ayla asks then, her face a stoic mask. But when she looks at Ven, her amber eyes flare dangerously. "They're not going to treat <<c callsign>> like kak, eh?" <br><br> Ven shrugs. "They're Diminished slaves in there," xe says, xer voice flat. From xer hair and coloring, you'd assume xe was a Mage, but xe lacks the <i>iladrin</i>, and you can't feel any magic coming off xer. "I can't vouch for what it's like. But I've heard they treat their better fighters as well as can be, yeah. Unhappy gladiators aren't very good ones. I doubt you'll be whipped or anything, if that helps." <br><br> Ayla grunts, not looking satisfied with this response. <br><br> <</if>><</nobr>> Halek, who's stayed quiet, speaks up suddenly, his voice a sleepy rumble that's almost lost amidst the noise of the street. "So while <<c callsign>>'s in the arena, we'll be conducting reconnaissance with your guild?" Ven nods. "Courtesy of the gold your Order sent along and Chase's good word, yeah. We'll be trying to figure out what we can from the outside. If we can, we'll make some bribes so you can pass messages to each other, too." Xe pauses. "Kind of unorthodox, innit—Thieves Guild helping out the law? Allying with police officers? Feels like the world's gone topsy-turvy. I never saw such a thing in my life." "Haven's Thieves Guild doesn't have a problem with it," Red puts in then, his tone polite and unassuming. Ven makes a face; it's half a sneer, half a smirk. "Yeah," xe says. "Shows that Chase's gotten weak. Gone crawling to the culls and glims. Wouldn't be surprised if someone takes his throne one of these days." At your appalled looks, xe shrugs, tone still casual. "It's the way of thieves. Gauge everyone for weaknesses, then go in for the kill." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Go along with it to appease xer. "Chase <i>is</i> pretty soft-hearted."' 'goalongappeasexerchasesofthearted'>><<set $ven += 1>><<setcharisma +1>><<setchase -5>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Harden your voice. "Don\'t let any of this fool you. Chase is just as ruthless and clever as he\'s ever been. You don\'t want to go toe-to-toe with him."' 'hardenyourvoicedontletanyofthisfoolyouchase'>><<setchase +3>><<setloyal +1>><<if $chaseromanceflag gte 8>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Shake your head. "Chase\'s thieves are absolutely loyal to him."' 'shakeyourheadchasesthievesareloyal'>><<setchase +3>><<setloyal +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Snap at xer. "Don\'t act like it\'s a bad thing. Chase and the Haven Thieves Guild are helping a greater cause."' 'snapxerdontactlikeitabadchasethingthieves'>><<set $ven -= 1>><<setchase +3>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Ven nods. "Thought so. I'll pass that on to my boss." The others frown. <<include "streetii">>

Ven makes a humming sound. "It's not me he's got to worry about." <<include "streetii">>

Ven smirks at you. "That's what the last Thief-lord thought… and that's how Chase took over." <<include "streetii">>

"There ain't no greater cause in our world than coin," Ven says seriously. "Just remember that." <<include "streetii">>

<<set $noshackle to false>>Finally you arrive at the arena, one of many circular compounds lining a wide road Ven calls "Gladiator's Avenue." The street is writhing with humanity and animal life, travelers and spectators jamming close together in order to gain entrance to the buildings as gongs ring out, announcing the beginnings of new bouts or matches. The crowd seems eager and howling for bloodsport, and your ears ring with their shouts and cheers. Ven directs the others to fall back as xe takes something out of xer bulging coinpouch: a pair of thin silver shackles that xe assures you are fake. "Got to make this look halfway believable," xe says. "Now, give me your weapons. It's going to look bad on me if I bring them a 'prisoner' who's armed to the teeth." You glance at the others, intending to make your temporary goodbyes. <<nobr>><<if $red gt $ayla and $red gt $halek>> Red, chewing his lip, steps forward quickly and embraces you. Somehow his shirt still smells of clean ink, parchment, and sunlight, even despite all the other smells of Heth Macoll. "Be careful," he murmurs in your ear. <<if $redromanceflag gte 5>> His lips and breath brush against your earlobe, so that you shiver. <</if>> "You need anything at all, you get a message to us and we'll pull you out, understand?" <br><br> Then he gives you a quick squeeze and steps back. His eyes, watching you, are anxious. <<elseif $ayla gt $red and $ayla gt $halek>> Ayla steps forward suddenly and punches your shoulder, hard enough to bruise. Then she looks away, blushing darkly, as the wind slaps her heavy braid against her shoulder. "Give 'em hell," she mutters, avoiding your gaze. "You need anything, you tell us and we'll come get you. Come Hael or high water." <<if $aylaromanceflag gte 5>> She meets your gaze again briefly before her face heats up even further and she hugs her arms. She seems like she wants to say something more, but falls silent again and settles for glaring at Ven. <</if>> <<else>> Halek gives you a brief smile and pats your shoulder. "Be careful," he says. "If you need anything, just get a message to us and we'll take it from there. I'm not worried about you, though." It's only the quick quirk of concern in his grey eyes that tells you otherwise. He nods at you and Ven once before stepping back. <</if>><</nobr>> Together, the three of them melt away into the crowd. Ven turns back to you, all business. Xe holds up the shackles. "Let's have it, then." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Do you really have to take my weapons from me?"' 'doyoureallyhavetotakemyweaponsfromme'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Do you really have to put those on me?"' 'doyoureallyhavetoputthoseonmeven'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Give up your weapons and hold up your wrists.' 'surrender'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Ven frowns at you. "There's no way they'll believe you're a captive if you keep them." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Xe\'s right. You don\'t want to risk blowing your cover. "Fine."' 'surrender'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Well, can you convince them to let me use my $mainweapon when I fight?"' 'wellcanyouconvincethemven'>><<if $ven gte 2>><<setcharisma +1>><<set $haveweapon to true>><</if>><</link>></li> </ul>

<<nobr>><<if $ven gte 2>> Xe studies you for a moment, then blows out a breath. "Yeah, I can try," xe says reluctantly. "No promises, though." <br><br> You nod. "Thanks." <br><br> Xe shrugs. "Whatever." And xe claps the shackles over your wrists. <br><br> <<include "streetiii">> <<else>> Ven doesn't bat an eye. "No. Now hand them over, or this isn't happening." <br><br> You sigh. "Fine." <br><br> Xe takes your weapons before slapping the shackles over your wrists. <br><br> <<include "surrender">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Ven shrugs. "They'll take them off you once we make the trade, anyway. You're only going to wear them for, what, ten minutes tops?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Still. It\'s humiliating."' 'stillitshumiliatingven'>><<setcunning -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Fine."' 'surrender'>><</link>></li> </ul>

<<nobr>><<if $ven gte 1>> <<set $noshackle to true>>Xe hesitates. "Well…" Then xe puts the shackles away. "I suppose I can just… pretend to hold you at gunpoint. Just act really, really scared, yeah?" <br><br> You nod. "Thanks." <br><br> Xe shrugs. "Whatever. Now give me your weapons." <br><br> <<include "streetiii">> <<else>> Xe doesn't bat an eye. "Tough." Xe takes your $mainweapon from you before shackling your wrists. <br><br> <<include "streetiii">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Ven nods, smartly strapping your $mainweapon to xer side. "I'll keep this safe for you until you're done. Don't worry, the vaults at our Thieves Guild are the safest in the country." <<include "streetiii">>

Together, the two of you walk towards the arena, Ven marching you like a proper captive. There's no sign of Halek, Red, or Ayla now, so you look around at the arena, taking in as much of the environment as you can. The compound is circular in shape, with two long wings or arcades jutting out from it on both sides, sectioning off a series of small courtyards attached to the arena. It looks like a fight has just ended, as hundreds of people are streaming out of the arena entrance, chattering and talking in a lively way. At the main entrance is a large signboard covered in chalk writing, mostly announcing what contests are scheduled when, which fighters are slotted to compete, and what looks like the odds of victory and defeat for each champion. As you walk into the western arcade, you peer into the several side courtyards littered throughout the complex. You catch glimpses of warriors training or practicing with each other in these yards, some watched by smaller, looser crowds of observers who break into cheers whenever particularly bloody hits are landed. You can't make out much, but these fighters all seem to be Diminished. They also look healthy and well-fed, which you suppose is a good sign, their eyes bright and their faces clean—and they show no signs of wanting to make a break for it, even though the arches lining the courtyards open out into the avenue and you can see no guards or chains or cages. But you also catch the sight of some fighters who are barely in their teens, <<nobr>><<if $cainesafe is true>> a few scarcely older than Caine. <<else>> some even looking thirteen or fourteen. <</if>><</nobr>> They can't all be content with their captivity, can they? Roars ring out as one boy, seventeen and scrappy, sends an older woman tumbling down into the dust. He holds a practice sword to her throat and says, "Yield." His eyes are ruthless and cold. Even here, in the unofficial matches, odds-makers and gamblers work the crowds furiously, bellowing out bets and collecting deucalions from the willing hands of the audience members. People reach out to clap the boy on the shoulders as he stands victorious. You hear someone saying, "That's a future champion in the making, there. Give him a few years and he might even beat the Stormbreaker." "A few years?" someone else answers. "More like a few decades. Have you seen that woman punch? She'd end him in a heartbeat, the way he is now." "Ach, decades… he won't make it to his thirties. They all get worn out sooner or later." "You ever think about buying a retired one from the arena, one too broken to fight anymore? Stormbreaker or Silver Strike would make a mean bodyguard." "If I had the coin to buy the Stormbreaker, I'd have other things in mind that didn't involve guarding my body!" Ven's eyes flick over these laughing onlookers and then away with indifference. In the last of these courtyards, you spy a strange contraption, sitting alone in an apparent place of honor. The device looks to be a set of enormous scales, each iron plate big enough to hold an ox. You glance quizzically at Ven, wondering what they could be for, but xe pays the scales no attention and hustles you further into the arena. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "streetiv">><</link>></center>

You enter the central part of the complex, but you don't get a chance to look around before Ven abruptly diverts you down a set of stairs, into a subterranean tunnel that eventually leads to the fighters' compound beneath the arena. Here, you surmise, is where the gladiators' quarters and the armories are located: a group of tall, golden-skinned warriors brush past you, scarcely even noticing you, and a broad, mustachioed man stands at the end of the tunnel, checking names off of a list as they pass him. He glances up as you and Ven draw to a halt in front of him. The man is short and squat, but also powerfully-built and muscular; his hand is so large that it looks like it could crush Ven's head like a melon. He stares at you for a moment with blank, faded gray eyes, then turns to Ven. <<nobr>><<if $noshackle is true>> He glances at your lack of bindings, but Ven moves to show him the gun xe has pressed into the small of your back. "Don't worry, it's safe. If $she move<<if $she is not "plural">>s<</if>> an inch, I'll blast $her spine full of lead." <br><br> Tovrik blinks slowly. <</if>><</nobr>> "And who are you?" Ven shifts and flashes something from xer pouch. "Thieves Guild. We heard from Tsoltan Bone-Eater that you were looking for Diminished fighters. We've got one here for you." The man raises a bristling dark brow. "What's Thieves Guild want with the arena business?" Ven shrugs. "Anything that pays well, we do. Stealing coin or stealing people, it don't matter. And who knows? If you like this one, maybe we can make a… permanent arrangement. A partnership. Our resources, your coin, both our profit." The man grunts, then extends an enormous, burly hand. "Tovrik." "Ven, but I suspect you don't give much of a shit." Tovrik doesn't laugh, instead inspecting you with a gimlet eye. You feel rather like a slab of meat, being worked over by a discerning butcher. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Raise your chin and stare back at him defiantly.' 'raiseyourchinstarebackdefiantly'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Do your best to look meek and frightened.' 'dobestlookmeekfrightened'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Stare straight ahead, stoic and calm.' 'starestraightstoiccalm'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Stare at the ground while wishing death upon him in your head.' 'staregroundwishingdeathuponhimandhead'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Tovrik clucks his tongue: you can't read his expression, but you guess he likes what he sees. "Can $she fight?" <<include "streetv">>

It helps if they underestimate you, take you as just another helpless captive. They won't be watching you closely, then. Tovrik clucks his tongue. "Can $she fight?" <<include "streetv">>

Tovrik clucks his tongue: you can't read his expression, but you guess he likes what he sees. "Can $she fight?" <<include "streetv">>

Tovrik makes a humming sound, but you can't really tell what he thinks of you. "Can $she fight?" <<include "streetv">>

"Wouldn't bother bringing $them here if $she couldn't," Ven retorts. "This one's a damn good fighter. We snatched $them up during a raid on a 'van… $she <<if $plural is true>>were<<else>>was<</if>> hired as their guard. Took about twenty of us to take $them down. And the rest of the 'van is dead, this one presumed dead too, so no one's going to come looking." Tovrik nods, his interest clearly increasing at the false account. He snaps his fingers at you. "What's your name, warrior?" "<<c falsename>> <<c falsesurname>>," you respond, your voice steady as you say it. "And you're a Mage? What kind?" <<nobr>><<if $specialization is "healer">> "Elae." <br><br> He makes a face. "A Healer? Ah, away with you. We've got no use for your kind here." <br><br> "But $she can fight," Ven butts in quickly. "I swear it. I've never seen the like." <br><br> Tovrik grudgingly turns back. "…Ten deucalions." <br><br> Ven actually bristles. "You must be joking!" <<elseif $specialization is "battle">> "Duelki." <br><br> Tovrik's eyes light up greedily. "A Battle-Mage? Aye, we can always find a place for that." He turns to Ven. "One hundred deucalions." <<elseif $specialization is "elementalist">> "Aetherai." <br><br> Tovrik's eyes light up greedily. "An Elementalist? That would be interesting. The crowd craves something new." He turns to Ven. "Eighty deucalions." <<elseif $specialization is "binder">> "Astrigai." <br><br> He makes a face. "A Binder? Ah, away with you. We've got no use for your kind here." <br><br> "But $she can fight," Ven butts in quickly. "I swear it. I've never seen the like." <br><br> Tovrik grudgingly turns back. "…Fifteen deucalions." <br><br> Ven actually bristles. "You must be joking!" <<elseif $specialization is "shifter">> "Mutai." <br><br> Tovrik's eyes light up greedily. "A Shifter? That would be interesting. The crowd craves something new." He turns to Ven. "Seventy deucalions." <<elseif $specialization is "conjurer">> "Obsidai." <br><br> A look of uncertainty crosses Tovrik's face. "A Conjurer? I'm not sure. I don't know if we have any need of that." <br><br> "But $she can fight," Ven butts in quickly. "I swear it. I've never seen the like." <br><br> Tovrik grudgingly turns back. "…Thirty deucalions." <br><br> Ven actually bristles. "You must be joking!" <<elseif $specialization is "enchanter">> "Dulcetis." <br><br> A look of uncertainty crosses Tovrik's face. "An Enchanter? I'm not sure. I don't know if we have any need of that." <br><br> "But $she can fight," Ven butts in quickly. "I swear it. I've never seen the like." <br><br> Tovrik grudgingly turns back. "…Twenty-five deucalions." <br><br> Ven actually bristles. "You must be joking!" <<elseif $specialization is "diviner">> "Argentis." <br><br> He makes a face. "A Diviner? Ah, away with you. We've got no use for your kind here." <br><br> "But $she can fight," Ven butts in quickly. "I swear it. I've never seen the like." <br><br> Tovrik grudgingly turns back. "…Five deucalions." <br><br> Ven actually bristles. "You must be joking!" <<elseif $specialization is "wild">> "Fera." <br><br> Tovrik's eyes light up greedily. "A Wild-Mage? That could be interesting. The crowd craves something new." He turns to Ven. "Sixty deucalions." <</if>><</nobr>> They haggle for a while before agreeing on a price for you. <<nobr>><<if $haveweapon is true>> At the end of it all, Ven adds, "Oh, and we took this off of $them when we first caught $them." Xe hands over your $mainweapon and adds, "<<c she>> made quite a sight, wielding it. It'd make a good show for your arena." <br><br> Tovrik barely glances at the $mainweapon before jerking his head at a servant lurking in the wings. She scuttles forward and bears away your weapon, presumably to be locked away in an armory. "We get a lot of those: gladiators who fight best only with the weapon they know. We'll see what happens, then give the $mainweapon to $them if things look promising." <br><br> Ven shrugs. "No skin off my nose either way." <br><br> <</if>><</nobr>> Then Tovrik gestures to another servant, who scurries off and returns with a bulging bag of gold and silver. Ven accepts it, opening the bag and counting quickly, before xe tucks it into xer colorful vest and nods at Tovrik. Then xe turns on xer heel and walks away from you without another word. Xe doesn't even spare you a glance back. Tovrik turns to you. "Come with me." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "streetvi">><</link>></center>

He takes you into another room, this one hot and humid, where several Mages are bent over workbenches. One approaches to pat you down, searching you for any belongings or hidden weapons, while another—a Healer—examines you for injuries or sicknesses. <<nobr>><<if $noshackle is true>> A third clips the shackles off of you with one efficient snap of a pair of steel pliers. They are all apparently very confident that you won't try to escape—or that you won't succeed if you try. <</if>><</nobr>> Tovrik speaks to you in a clipped, bored manner, as if he's done this a thousand times—which he probably has. "You'll be given your own room and three square meals a day: four if you train hard of your own accord. Your first fight will be tomorrow. Win, and some money from your victory will be set aside in a personal fund for you. Eventually you can use this fund to order more things for your room, furniture, that sort of thing. Save up enough and you can buy your freedom: thrice what I just paid that thief for you. Lose, and marks start being tallied against you. You don't want more than a few marks on your name. It won't end well for you, so fight your hardest and win." His voice should be dark and threatening, but instead it's only clinical and detached. "Win enough matches, and you'll be named a champion. Champions earn more with each victory and receive special privileges the other gladiators don't. You can do whatever you want between your fights, but it's best to train and practice, to stay sharp. I wouldn't get too close to the other fighters, either. After all, in the end you're all pitted against each other. Best not to have too many… biases." He rubs his nose. "There are hot springs in the east wing you can bathe in, at most once per day. They're supposed to be rejuvenating, said to imbue you with strength and vigor; our gladiators have exclusive use of them. No sex before your matches: you need to conserve your energy for the bout. Meal bell is rung when it's time to eat; fight bell is rung to summon the right gladiators to the arena entrance we passed earlier. You'll learn the difference between them soon enough. You check the signboard at the stairs every day at dawn to see if you're up for a match that day. You fail to show up when fight bell is rung, you get punished. But we hate to punish our fighters: it puts them out of the fight for longer, so best to avoid that, yes?" You can hardly keep up with what he's saying, the other Mages poking and prodding you this way and that. It's a strange experience: these gladiators have much more freedom and care than you'd expect, and it sounds more like some sort of leisure camp than a group of captives being held and enslaved against their will. Why hasn't he talked about what happens if you try to escape? Surely people do try to escape? But you're not able to think any further when you feel a sudden sharp sting against your forearm. You cry out, startled, and try to jerk away: one of the Mages has slapped her palm against your arm, and the contact burns like acid. She glances at you, her eyes totally devoid of emotion, before pulling her hand away to reveal a glowing purple sigil sinking into your skin. You stare at it a moment before it fades, feeling the spell or curse take hold of you. "That," Tovrik says, "is on every single fighter in this arena. There's a matching rune circle around this building, you see: a ward. Anyone with that sigil tries to cross the ward, they're going to get a nasty shock for their trouble. We've had a few even die from the pain, so I don't recommend trying your luck." He shrugs. "Everyone tries at least once, no matter what I tell them. But believe you me when I say no one's ever managed to take even a step before they pass out. Some throw up their guts, it hurts that bad." Now his look turns dark. "And that doesn't even compare to what we do to them afterwards." There it is. You frown, rubbing at the unblemished skin where the spellmark now sits. You hope that this won't complicate your plans. How will you free the captives if there's a ward in place that will kill them if they try to leave? Tovrik turns away. "That'll be all. Someone will take you to your quarters. And then there'll be a bout at noonbell. One of our better fighters, the Staghead. I'd suggest you attend: you can watch and learn from the best." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "streetvii">><<set $clothes to "the plain, drab clothing of a Tyro fighter">><</link>></center>

A few minutes later, you've been given a fighter's uniform to wear: plain, drab, loose-fitting clothes that breathe in the humid heat. A servant whisks you away to your quarters: a simple room with a sparse bed, a thin blanket, a washbasin, and a cheaply-made chest with a clay pitcher sitting on top of it. It's not uncomfortable, about the same quality as a low-end inn, and you can't help the feeling of surprise again. You'd expected a filthy pit in a dungeon, not cheerful sunlight streaming in through the high window above the bed. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Check the room for surveillance devices or peepholes.' 'checkroomforsurveillance'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Test the door to see if it\'s locked.' 'testdoorsoiflockedinnfeeling'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Look in the chest.' 'lookinchestgladiatorfight'>><</link>></li> </ul>

You look high and low, but you can't find any indication that the masters of this place have any interest in watching you. It seems they have a rock-solid system in place to keep captives from escaping, so they have no reason to spy. <<include "streetviii">>

The door opens easily at your touch. It seems Tovrik was telling the truth: with that spell on you, the masters of this place don't care what you do or where you roam in your free time. It seems the height of arrogance, but you have total freedom in this place. <<include "streetviii">>

There's nothing inside it, though: it must be a place to store things whenever you can save up the money to buy them. Still, it seems an unusual luxury for this place. <<include "streetviii">>

<<set $brionyjoin to true>>Before you can investigate further, there's a knock at your door. You open it to find two people standing there: one is a thin, nervous-looking Elf with gold-white long hair, a bit older in appearance than Tallys. The other is a slender-muscled, bright-eyed young woman with petal-pink hair tied in a high ponytail with a red ribbon: right off the bat, she has a friendly, cheerful disposition, and her long-lashed violet eyes glint at you playfully as she smiles and waves. There is a unique-looking sword strapped to her back, but both she and the Elf are relaxed, welcoming, rather than intimidating. The young woman is dressed in something like soft, pliable armor, emblazoned in silver and turquoise, with the emblem of a dragon on her belt; the man is dressed in the same drab clothes you are. "Hi," the young woman says brightly, as if you're old friends. You notice she has a sprinkle of freckles across her nose, and her ears are slightly pointed: she doesn't seem to be a full Elf, as she also has the <i>iladrin</i>, and her unusual hair supports that. <<nobr>><<if $magic gte 50>> Interestingly, when you open your magical senses up, the ambient power you sense radiating from her is nearly strong enough to bowl you over: she practically <i>blazes</i> with it, her magic a hard, glassy radiance with a razor edge to it. Lightning-strike strong. <</if>><</nobr>> But perhaps she's an Elf-Mage? <<nobr>><<if $heritage is "Elf">> <br> The young woman seems to notice the same about you: her mouth forms a small 'o', and she points unthinkingly at your ears. "Hey," she says with a pleased grin, "we're the same! Are you mixed blood?" <br><br> The Elf man at her side nudges her sharply. "Don't be rude, Briony, we haven't introduced ourselves." <br><br> She scratches her head sheepishly. "Sorry—I couldn't help but notice. But enough of that: your head must be spinning, right?" She tilts her head at you with a sudden sympathetic look. <<elseif $haircolor is "pink" or $haircolor is "rose-gold">> <br> The young woman seems to notice something about you: she points unthinkingly at your hair. "Hey," she says with a pleased grin, "we match!" <br><br> The Elf man at her side nudges her sharply. "Don't be rude, Briony, we haven't introduced ourselves." <br><br> She scratches her head sheepishly. "Sorry—I couldn't help but notice. But never mind that: your head must be fair in a tizzy, right?" She tilts her head at you with a sudden sympathetic look. <</if>><</nobr>> "I'm Briony," she says, pointing at herself. "And this is Nathe—though he goes by Sunflash in the arena." The male Elf nods at you in greeting. "<<c falsename>>," you tell them. Briony offers you another genuine smile: she seems to hand them out very freely. "We wanted to come by and see how you were settling in…" Then she bites her lip, watching you. "We've both been here for a while, so we try to help newcomers as best we can. Are you all right? Settling in well enough? Did you come alone? And where did you come from? How did they get you?" "Briony," Nathe says sternly. "You're prying." She winces and sighs again. "Sorry. Sometimes I talk too fast for my brain to catch up." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"It\'s all right, I don\'t mind." Give her your fake story.' 'itsallrightidontmindgiverherfakestory'>><<setbriony +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You don\'t need to worry about me. I\'m fine." Try to impress them with your toughness.' 'youdontneedworryaboutmetryimpresswithtoughness'>><<setcourage +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You don\'t have to act all buddy-buddy with me. We\'re not friends." Regard them with suspicion.' 'youdonthavetoactbuddybuddy'>><<setcharisma -3>><<setcompassionate -1>><<setbriony -8>><</link>></li> <<if ($attractedto is not "male" and $aro is false) and $aroace is false>><li><<link 'Clear your throat and look away. She\'s distractingly pretty.' 'clearthroatshedistractinglypretty'>><<set $brionyromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link 'Stare at her in silence.' 'stareatherinsilencenow'>><<setcharisma -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

You outline the false alias that Riel gave you, pretending that you were a 'van guard whose caravan was slaughtered in an ambush. You describe how the Heth Macoll Thieves Guild dragged you away from the wreckage and sold you off here, to Tovrik. Briony makes soft, sympathetic noises while Nathe nods seriously. "I'm sorry to hear that," she says when you're done, looking like she wants to hug you; she braces her arms against her sides. "That must have been awful. But if you stick with us, I'm sure things will get better—just keep a tight hold on your hope. It's important in here. And we'll all get out of here at some point, and then you can go back to your old life if you want." Your ears perk up at this, but Nathe butts in before you can ask her for more details. "Do you have any questions for us? We know pretty much everything about this place." <<include "streetix">>

Briony laughs slightly. "Well, I'm glad. I suppose it's better than curling up and crying for a sennight, like I did when I first got here." "Surely you have questions, at least?" Nathe asks then. "We know pretty much everything about this place, so feel free to ask." <<include "streetix">>

Briony's face falls: she's a very easy person to read, and right now her face broadcasts her shock and hurt. She looks away and murmurs, "Oh… right. Sorry about that. We'll… leave you alone, then." "Unless you have any questions for us?" Nathe offers then. "We know pretty much everything about this place, if you want to know anything in particular." <<include "streetix">>

Briony bends so that she remains in your line of sight, her pink ponytail falling against her shoulder as she tilts her head curiously. Her lips quirk as if she senses what you're thinking, but she could just be a happy person in general, and in another instant the moment has passed. She straightens. "Do you have any questions for us?" "We know pretty much everything about this place, if you want to know anything in particular," Nathe offers. <<include "streetix">>

You've never seen such an unusual-looking person before, and Briony blushes under your scrutiny. "Um…" She looks away, fidgeting self-consciously. "We can leave you alone, if you want." "Unless you have any questions for us?" Nathe offers. "We know pretty much everything about this place, if you want to know anything in particular." <<include "streetix">>

<<set $brionyknow to false>><<set $scalesknow to false>>You pause. This could be your best chance at gathering intelligence within the arena. <<include "talkaboutarena">>

<ul class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("haveeitherofyoutriedescaping")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Have either of you tried escaping?"</div>' 'haveeitherofyoutriedescaping'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("whoownsthisplacerunsoperationhere")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Who owns this place? Who runs the operation here?"</div>' 'whoownsthisplacerunsoperationhere'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("whatwerethosebigscalesoutside")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"What were those big scales outside?"</div>' 'whatwerethosebigscalesoutside'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("howmanygladiatorsarehere")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"How many gladiators are here?"</div>' 'howmanygladiatorsarehere'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("dotheytreatfighterswellhere")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Do they treat the fighters well here?"</div>' 'dotheytreatfighterswellhere'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("howdidyoutwogetherebrionyarena")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"How did you two get here?"</div>' 'howdidyoutwogetherebrionyarena'>><<set $brionyknow to true>><</link>><</if>> <<if $brionyknow is true and $scalesknow is true>><li><<link 'You can\'t think of anything else to ask.' 'gong'>><</link>></li><<else>><<disabled "You can\'t think of anything else to ask.">><</if>> </ul>

"Oh, sure," Briony says, hugging her arms and looking away, down the corridor. "Plenty of times. But that spell they put on you is nigh unbreakable, and none of us can get close enough to the ward line—the magic circle around this place—to be able to pick the spell apart. The guards either make you leave, or the pain sets in. And I'm hopeless at that sort of magic, anyway. So we've tried, but nothing's come of it so far." Nathe glances at her, as if expecting her to say something else, but Briony shifts guiltily before falling silent. <<include "talkaboutarena">>

Nathe and Briony glance at each other. "No one knows," Nathe answers in response. "The grand arena-master is Tovrik, whom you've met, but he's only in charge of managing the slaves and the fights. Someone else funds the whole thing, started it, gives the orders from on high—we call them the Sponsor, but no one knows who that is." "Have you ever seen them?" "No. Sometimes they visit, but they stay in the big box at the top of the arena during fights, so we haven't been able to see their face. I've heard—" He hesitates and looks at Briony, who continues. "Supposedly," she says, "if you fight well enough and stay champion for a long enough time, one of your greatest honors is to meet the Sponsor themselves personally and receive a token of their favor as their personal victor, or titleholder. Or some even say they let the champions go free, granting them their liberation, but—we just don't know for sure. None of us have been around long enough to actually see it happen." She pauses. "I've been angling for it for some time, but we also don't know when the Sponsor is actually here, so who knows how long it will take to actually meet them…" Interesting. Does that mean you'll have to become a champion of this place if you're ever to get a shot at meeting this Sponsor? How long will that take? And how likely is it to happen? "Why do you want to meet the Sponsor?" you ask Briony. She blinks. "So I can kill the bastard," she says plainly. Then she smiles at you, tightly, and the expression is altogether much fiercer than her former sweetness. <<include "talkaboutarena">>

<<set $scalesknow to true>>"Ah," Briony says. She bites her lip again, twirling a stray ringlet of hair nervously around her finger. "That's… those are the Scales of Fate. Heth Macoll is still steeped quite a lot in the Old Faith, you see, and they have this whole thing about being in balance with the world, being in harmony with the will of the gods. Anyway, I'm sure it's been explained to you that if you win fights, you get a tiny portion of the winnings put into a fund for yourself?" You nod. "Well," Briony says slowly, "if you lose a fight, you get a mark against your name, put in Tovrik's 'red book'—it's a book of all the records and registries and data and whatnot of all the fighters. If you get a lot of marks, or if you're injured in a fight, so badly that the Healers can't help you easily and you can't fight anymore—" "It's called being compromised," Nathe puts in helpfully. "Right, if you're compromised, or if you lose too much, or are on a losing streak…" She sighs. "You're put on the Scales of Fate." You frown, crossing your arms. "And what happens then?" She looks nervously at Nathe; he doesn't see, but there's a flash of fear or anxiety in her eyes before she turns back to you again. "Well," she begins, taking a breath, "the loser gets placed on the scale in front of everyone. And then the weighing begins. Basically, enough gold has to be offered up from donors in the audience to outweigh the warrior. It's this whole thing, people write on these slates the amount they want to offer, and the arena-master puts the corresponding weights on the opposite plate… so say someone offers one thousand deucalions, then Tovrik puts a weight equaling that on the other part of the scale. The fighter's savings, too, the money they might have won from previous fights, is added as well—they lose it all to the Scales." She trails off for a moment, then continues. "Oftentimes, if a gladiator is well-liked or popular with an audience, enough gold gets scraped up that the scales tip in their favor. Then they get seen to by the Healers for rehabilitation, or they're put back into the rotation to fight, the marks removed from their name so they can start over again, clean. But if no one puts forth enough money…" "The fighter gets taken away," Nathe says in a wooden voice. "And we never see them again." You stare. "What do you think happens to them?" Briony looks away, shivering lightly. "I try not to think about it too much. It never helps." "Some say they meet the Sponsor, and the Sponsor decides what to do with them," Nathe says grimly. "But we guess that their fates can't be too kind, considering they never return. And I very much doubt they're allowed to go free. Otherwise we'd all be losing on purpose." <<include "talkaboutarena">>

Briony tilts her head, thinking. "About sixty?" she hazards. "Last time I counted, it was around there." Nathe murmurs something to her about a "bramble-boar fight," and she grimaces. "I forgot about that. Maybe it's closer to fifty." <<include "talkaboutarena">>

Briony shrugs. "Well enough," she says. "They never touch us, unless we try to escape. Then they beat you to within an inch of your life, starve you, brand you... all that. They never kill you, though. Too precious of a commodity for them to waste. They'd rather break you." "Otherwise, they leave us mostly alone," Nathe comments. "Sometimes they have to drag people to the arena, if they're too frightened to fight: that's what happened to me, my first time. But they feed us enough, let us bathe and sleep and talk amongst ourselves." He pauses meaningfully. "That doesn't mean I wouldn't burn this place to the ground, given the chance." Briony nods, her face suddenly serious. "Don't mistake any of it for mercy," she says gravely. "You can't trust a soul here. They're slavers, after all: they look at us as animals, stupid Diminished beasts with no souls. They don't hurt us out of business sense, pragmatism. But don't think for one instant they care about us beyond our status as their property." <<include "talkaboutarena">>

Briony straightens, but Nathe seems more reluctant to talk about it. "If you want to know the truth," she says, "the slavers picked me up somewhere on the Southern coast. Where, I have no idea—I just remember the sounds of the waves, the salt. I'd washed up there, apparently, amidst the debris of a shipwreck—but I didn't remember anything. Still don't, really, except my name and little meaningless bits and pieces here and there. And all I had on me was this sword." She touches the hilt of her weapon, its blue pommelstone gleaming over her shoulder. "Anyway, they found me there, put me in a cage, and before I'd really gotten my bearings, they brought me here to Heth Macoll, across the Continent. And I've been here ever since." You stare at her. "So you have no memories?" Briony shakes her head ruefully. "I'm afraid not. I don't remember a thing from before I woke up on that beach. The Healers think I hit my head, but they haven't had any luck fixing me otherwise." <<include "brionyandnathepast">>

She laughs lightly, though there's something a bit forced about it. "It's not so bad. At least I can still read and write, and pick up a sword. The <i>habit</i> memories are still there. I just don't remember any of the <i>personal</i> ones." She shrugs, the motion a bit too forced to be truly careless. "I don't think of it much, and in a sense, it's sort of a mercy… being trapped in here, I don't have anyone to pine for or miss. I can just be content with where I am... or as content as someone being kept prisoner and forced to fight can be, anyway." <<include "brionyandnathepasti">>

You've never met an amnesiac before. Briony smiles wryly and says, "Yes, I suppose it is interesting, being me." <<include "brionyandnathepasti">>

Briony looks surprised for a moment; then she smiles at you. "That's very kind of you," she says warmly. "But I'm alright. It doesn't bother me, really. I've had some time to get used to it, and in a sense, it's sort of a mercy… being trapped in here, I don't have anyone to pine for or miss. I can just be content with where I am... or as content as someone being kept prisoner and forced to fight can be, anyway." <<include "brionyandnathepasti">>

Briony smiles, though it seems forced. "Thanks. I do, too." <<include "brionyandnathepasti">>

She shakes her head. "No," she says. "I suppose it wasn't that important. And I've had enough time to adopt a new name." <<include "brionyandnathepasti">>

"How long have you been here?" "Nine, ten months? I'm pretty much the last of the 'original' gladiators who were brought here, though I was at the tail-end of that first round." She glances at Nathe. "He's been here for six." Nathe turns away as you look at him expectantly. "I was out hunting," he says finally, slowly. "For my husband and child. They… captured me while I was in the brush, stalking a deer. Came out of nowhere. They dragged me away, and I haven't seen or heard of my family since." He pauses, not looking at you. "They probably think I was killed." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I\'m so sorry."' 'sosorrybrionypast'>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You\'re going to get out of here soon and reunite with them. I know it."' 'goingtogetoutofheresoonreunitewiththembriony'>><<setcourage +1>><<setbriony +1>><<set $brionyromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Maybe not. Maybe they\'re looking for you, even now."' 'maybenotmaybetheyrelookingforyoubrionypast'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'m surprised you haven\'t burned this place to the ground to get back to them." ' 'imsurprisedburnedbrionypast'>><<setbriony -1>><<setcharisma -1>><<setcompassionate -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Nathe nods abruptly. "It's no different from anyone else here," he says, his voice terse. <<include "talkaboutarena">>

Nathe smiles slightly, but he doesn't raise his eyes; you can tell he doesn't believe you. "Let us hope." "No need for hope," Briony puts in, bouncing a little on the balls of her feet. She grins and nods at you. "<<c falsename>>'s right. We'll get out of here and you'll find them again." Nathe only smiles, but it's more genuine this time. <<include "talkaboutarena">>

Nathe grimaces. "That only hurts more." <<include "talkaboutarena">>

Briony frowns at you, and Nathe winces. He says nothing to your comment. <<include "talkaboutarena">>

Briony looks like she's about to say something, but suddenly a deep, low-pitched gong rings out somewhere above you, the sound so loud and amplified that it buzzes through your bones. "Ah, that's the noonbell bout," Briony says, stepping back out of your room. "I wanted to see this, and Nathe—" "You're forcing me," he says dryly. "No, I'm <i>encouraging</i> you in case it gives you any tips for tomorrow." She glances at you and gives you a quick smile. "Would you like to come, <<c falsename>>? It might be good for you to see for yourself how things work around here." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Nod. "Yes, please." This is a good opportunity to scope out the situation.' 'yespleaseopportunityscopesituation'>><<setbriony +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Shrug. You have nothing better to do.' 'shrugnothingbettertodonathe'>><<setbriony -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Who\'s fighting?"' 'whosfightingnatheravven'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Briony beams, and Nathe nods. "It's this way." <<include "gongi">>

Nathe turns away. "It's this way." <<include "gongi">>

"Ravven Staghead," Briony says, her nose scrunching as if she realizes how ridiculous it sounds. "Against… well, it's a mystery, but Staghead's a boulder of a man, so it'll be interesting either way." You nod. "Lead the way, then." <<include "gongi">>

They lead you down the corridor, away from the gladiators' quarters. But where you would expect to head up the stairs into the arena proper, Nathe veers, bringing you to a curving tunnel that encircles the bottom of the stadium, evidently called "the pit." You are essentially directly beneath the stands and seats of the arena above, and long windows and slits have been carved at eye-height so that you can see what's going on in the stadium. Your heads are at the same level as the feet of any fighters outside, but they are positioned far enough away that you can see them fairly clearly. Briony explains that fellow gladiators are not allowed in the arena during a match—only the ones scheduled to duel—due to concerns that they might interfere with the fight or distract audience-members from what's going on. A few other fighters crowd into the pit, moving so that they have good positions to watch the battle; they ignore you, but some catch Briony's eyes and nod at her. Beside you, she bounces lightly on her feet, clenching and loosening her hands as if she's the one who's about to fight. "Would you calm down?" Nathe asks in exasperation, on your other side. "Nope," she says, still bouncing. "I'm nervous. Staghead's still got that weak ankle from the other day. He's at a disadvantage." "You care too much. Last I remember, he promised to gut you and wear your innards as a necklace." "That was before a fight—to put on a show for the crowd. He's all right." "Didn't you break his nose in the mess hall the other day?" "Yes, and it taught him a nice lesson. Like I said, he's all right." You watch as a tall, sturdy man of indeterminable race strides out into the middle of the amphitheater, amidst bellows and roars from the crowd. You can't tell if they love him or hate him. His skin is bronze and slick with oil, and he's shirtless, wearing only trousers and what looks like a deer skull on his head, its huge rack of antlers sharpened to wicked points. Hence the name "Staghead," you suppose. Briony nudges you gently, directing your attention to her. <<nobr>><<if $brionyromanceflag gte 1>> You notice that she smells of apple blossoms and honey, a surprisingly sweet scent here in the midst of all this dust and sweat. <</if>><</nobr>> "I suppose I should explain what kinds of matches there are here. You start at the beginner level—the Tyro level, Tovrik calls it, which means novice. In that tier, you go into battle bare-handed, unarmored, and they evaluate how you do against other opponents. If you show promise, they start giving you bouts with more interesting opponents, or varied conditions, as well as weapons and shields and armor. It makes the bouts more exciting, you see, more desirable to the audiences if they switch things up a lot. Then you start working your way up the more you win, and those victories earn you more privileges, better rank. You get better pay from each fight, and trophies, and some fighters buy services, like personal masseuses to come, er, visit them." She blushes. "…I haven't done that, though. Obviously." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"What rank are you and Nathe?"' 'whatrankyouandnathe'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Is that why you get to carry around your sword?"' 'isthatwhyyougetcarryaroundsword'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Is that why you wear different clothes?"' 'isthatwhyweardifferentclothesbriony'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"So what rank is the Staghead?"' 'sowhatrankisstaghead'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Why are you blushing?"' 'whyareyoublushingbriony'>><<set $brionyromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> </ul>

"He's the same as you: Tyro," she says brightly. "And then there's Novitiate, Gladiator, Hero, and Champion. It's all rather silly, but it draws in the crowds." "And what are you?" "Oh, look," Briony says excitedly, pointing through the viewing window. "It looks like something's happening!" <<include "gongii">>

Briony blinks, then nods. "Yes—I've earned the right, and anyway it's… complicated. No one else can lift it, for one thing, so they thought it wasn't worth the hassle trying to keep it from me. And I put on a pretty good show with it. If you came here with your own weapon and you do well, they might let you use it. Or you might not care that much about it—it's up to you. And them, I suppose." <<include "gongii">>

Briony smiles at you sidelong. "So you noticed?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Hard not to notice what you look like." [<b>FLIRT</b>]' 'hardnottonoticeyourlooksbriony'>><<set $brionyromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Anyone with eyes would notice that you\'re wearing armor, even if it\'s light."' 'anyonewitheyesnoticeyourewearingarmor'>><<setbriony -1>><<setcharisma -1>><<setcompassionate -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Yes, I did. Not many people around here dressed like you."' 'yesididnotmanypeopledressedlikeyoubriony'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

She blushes and says, "Oh—um, thank you." For once she doesn't seem to know what to say, but she's grinning sheepishly, as if pleased. <<include "gongii">>

Briony snorts. "I guess that's true," she says with a shrug. "Yes, I've earned the privilege—but I also participate in more dangerous fights, so a little extra protection is warranted." <<include "gongii">>

A dimple appears impishly on her right cheek. "Observant," she notes. "Yes, I've earned that privilege—but I also participate in the more dangerous fights, so a little protection is warranted." <<include "gongii">>

"Gladiator," Briony says. "It goes Tyro, Novitiate, Gladiator, Hero, and Champion. It's all rather silly, but it draws in the crowds." <<include "gongii">>

She colors even further, and she thumps your shoulder. "I'm not!" <<include "gongii">>

Another gong crashes out before either of you can say anymore, drawing your attention to the other side of the arena. Ravven Staghead is still pacing, thumping his muscular chest and bellowing warcries in tandem with the cheers of the crowd. Opposite of him, a portcullis begins to crank open, groaning as the rusty metal struggles to rise. There is something very large stirring in the gloom on the other side of the gate. Briony sighs. "There are a lot of different kinds of bouts and contests," she says, quieter now. She stares out into the arena. "Some are feats of strength or competitions of skill, like racing with a weight strapped to your back, or throwing knives at a target. But most are outright fights. There are the knuckle-duster fights—bare-handed combat—and fights with weapons… but in both of those, powers usually aren't allowed, so you can't use magic or arma. And those usually end when first blood is drawn or the opponent gives up. Then there are the beast fights, where you either fight alone or in teams against some captured monster." She shifts. "Then there are the hampered fights, where you're both blindfolded, or one arm is tied behind your back, or you can only fight with whips, or something." She pauses. "And then there are matches like these. Free fights." "What happens in a free fight?" you ask her. Her violent eyes are looking at something very far away from you, away from the arena. "It's no-holds-barred," Briony says softly. "And in these, you fight to the death." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span><i>"Staghead! Staghead!"</i></span></div></div>' "gongiii">><</link>></center>

The roar of the crowd shakes through your head like thunder. Something emerges from the darkness beyond the portcullis: you catch a glimpse of a tall man—no, a man-like creature, gray-skinned and hulking with lurid yellow eyes—lumbering out from behind the gate. He—or it—is apparently chained to some sort of animal, a huge hyena-like beast with slavering, powerful jaws and a hunched, broken-looking back. It's as large and as vicious-looking as an ahfuri. The Staghead beats his chest and roars in challenge. But before anyone can move, the arena-master, Tovrik, moves out into the center of the stadium. The creature at the far end doesn't move: you see now that a chain attaches it to the far wall, preventing it from shuffling forward. The Staghead also stays still, though he tenses his shoulders, readying himself for a charge. In one hand, Tovrik grasps the neck of a dangling, protesting goose. In one swift motion he raises it to the sun, draws a knife from his belt, and then plunges it into the bird's heart. "<i>For the One-God! For the One-God! For the One-God!</i>" the audience roars. Briony turns away, grimacing. "A ritual for the Hierophant," she explains. "An animal sacrifice. They do it before all the fights now. The crowds love it, and they say it blesses the fight." You remember how the merchants in the Kinley Traders slaughtered a chicken every day at dawn, seeking the One-God's protection. It seems that particular belief has spread outwards—or maybe it even originated from the Western Hierophant himself. Dark blood splatters against the dust of the arena. Tovrik moves away, still holding the dripping goose, and once he's safe he makes a signal to some unseen party; the chain holding back the monsters at the far end suddenly goes slack. The big man-shaped creature charges the Staghead, bellowing. "What <i>is</i> that thing?" Briony asks, frowning. <ul class="choices"> <<if $intelligence gte 45>><<link '<div class="choice-item">You know what it is.</div>' 'youknowhwatitisstaghead'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>><<else>><<disabled "You know what it is.">><</if>> <li><<link 'You let Nathe explain.' 'nathexplain'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Raise your brows at her. "You really don\'t know?"' 'raisebrowsatbrionystaghead'>><<if $brionyknow is true>><<setbriony -3>><</if>><</link>></li> </ul>

<<notify_codex_bestiary "Vargur">>"It's a Balor," you explain. You watch as Staghead deftly feints to the right, wielding his own knife, which flashes into the sun and darts into the Balor's side. It screams in pain, and the enormous jackal-like animal still chained to it lunges and snarls at the sound. "A Tainted creature that normally roams the Waste—a cross-breed between the Endarkened and the Ket. They're immensely strong; they can tear a person limb from limb with their bare hands. And the jackal-looking animal is its mount: a vargur. It has the most powerful set of jaws in the world." <<include "gongiv">>

<<notify_codex_bestiary "Vargur">>"It's a Balor," Nathe breathes, watching keenly as Staghead deftly feints to the right. You notice belatedly that he also carries a knife, which flashes in the sun and darts into the Balor's side. It screams in pain, and the enormous jackal-like animal still chained to it lunges and snarls at the sound. "The Tainted offspring between a Ket and an Endarkened. It's faster and smarter than it looks. If it gets ahold of Ravven, it'll break his neck like that goose's. And that hyena creature is the thing's mount, a vargur." <<include "gongiv">>

<<nobr>><<if $brionyknow is true>> She glances at you, frowning. "I have amnesia, remember?" She says it with a hint of sarcasm. "I don't know anything outside of this place." <<else>> <<set $brionyknow to true>> She glances at you, frowning. "I have amnesia," she says quietly. "When the slavers found me washed ashore in the debris of a shipwreck, I couldn't remember anything except my own name. I've been trying to read and catch up on things, but there's still a lot I don't know." She nods at the creature currently brawling it out with Staghead in the arena. "Such as what <i>that</i> is." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "nathexplain">>

Briony makes a face. "How did they get a Tainted creature here, so soon after the last few?" "It must have been that new shipment that came in last sennight," Nathe replies. "But Dune would have said something—I'll be right back." Briony brushes past you and disappears into the steady stream of fighters now trickling into the pit to catch a glimpse of the fight. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'You turn to watch Briony go.' 'brionyexplain'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'You keep your eyes on the fight.' 'fightobserve'>><</link>></li> </ul>

You continue to watch the Staghead battle it out with the Balor: the creature has gripped him around the waist and hurtled him into the ground with back-breaking force. The crowd gasps and screams and boos. Staghead teeters to his feet, his head dripping blood and covering his face in a garish mask. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"What happens if he dies?"' 'whathappensifhediesbriony'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Where does he come up with the name Staghead?"' 'wheredoeshecomeupwiththenamestaghead'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Why did they bring a Tainted to fight him?"' 'whydidtheybringataintedtofighthim'>><</link>></li> </ul>

"Then his body is disposed of," Nathe says flatly, his face very still. He doesn't meet your eye. "And his spot is replaced by another fighter." "So his family never finds out what happens to him? He's just dead, just like that?" Nathe exhales through his nose. "Such is the life of a gladiator." And what a brutal life that is. You watch as Staghead is pummeled around the head by a series of crippling blows. <<include "brionyreturns">>

<<set $knowstormbreakername to true>>"Tovrik gives us our titles," Nathe answers dryly. "Usually it's based on our backgrounds, or our powers, or our fighting styles, or something distinctive we do in one of our starting battles. It's more theatrical: no one wants to cheer the name 'Thom' as gladiators below are hurling fire at each other. Hence why I'm Sunflash the Mace, not Nathe. And Briony's the Stormbreaker, since she conquered the apparent storm at sea that took down her ship. It's all very dramatic, you see." "Will I get a title?" you ask, intrigued despite yourself. Nathe shrugs. "Eventually. You'll have to last more than a few fights before the audience starts recognizing you by sight, asking for you. That's when you'll get a name." Somehow, you don't think you'll be sticking around that long. <<include "brionyreturns">>

"Is he being punished?" Nathe shakes his head. "On the contrary: it's a great honor to be put into such a fight. They must have imported the Tainted as a special bout to commemorate the week of the Hierophant being here. Special games, you know. Staghead's not being punished. He's being honored—rewarded—for his good record by being given the privilege of fighting such a rare opponent." <i>It doesn't look like an honor</i>, you think as Staghead takes a brutal blow to the head. <<include "brionyreturns">>

Once her distinctive pink hair is out of sight, Nathe turns to you and catches you looking. "What is it?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"What kind of Diminished is she? I can\'t tell."' 'whatkindofdiminishedissheicanttell'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Is she any good in a fight? She looks pretty small."' 'issheanygoodinafightsosmall'>><<setbriony -3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"What\'s the relationship between you two?"' 'whatsrelationshipbetweenbrionynathe'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Do you buy her whole story, about her amnesia?"' 'doyoubuyherwholeamnesiastory'>><<setbriony -5>><<setcunning +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'m still curious about that sword."' 'imstillcuriousaboutthatsword'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'You turn away. "It\'s nothing."' 'brionyreturns'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Nathe shrugs. "No one knows, let alone her—she has no memories, after all. You can tell by her ears that she has Elvish blood in her, and her eyes have the <i>iladrin</i>, so there's magic as well. And I'd bet money on her having Ket heritage, too. She's incredibly strong—stronger than Staghead by far. There has to be some arma in there. But as for the actual nature of her blood, your guess is as good as mine." Interesting. You know what it's like to not know about your true origins, the actual facts of your genetic makeup. You and your adopted parents were never able to really know how much $heritage you really <<nobr>> <<if $heritage is "Elf" or $heritage is "Hunter">>were, after all. <<else>> were, after all, if any at all. It was all just speculation. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "brionyreturns">>

Although Briony seems athletic enough, she isn't exactly bulging with muscle like some of the other gladiators you've seen here, and she's isn't very tall, to boot. Nathe snorts. "Don't let her catch you saying that. She looks and acts sweet and friendly, but she's got a fierce temper—and an even fiercer sense of pride. I wouldn't underestimate her, if I were you." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Noted."' 'brionyreturns'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I wasn\'t planning on it."' 'brionyreturns'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'ll decide that for myself."' 'brionyreturns'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I guess we\'ll see."' 'brionyreturns'>><</link>></li> </ul>

He snorts. "Why, are you interested?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Examine your nails casually. "I\'m just making conversation."' 'brionyinterestnathe'>><<set $brionyromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Smile. "I might be."' 'brionyinterestnathe'>><<set $brionyromanceflag += 3>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Shake your head. "Don\'t be stupid. I\'m just asking a question."' 'brionyinterestnathe'>><<set $brionyromanceflag to 0>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Frown at him. "None of your business."' 'brionyinterestnathe'>><</link>></li> </ul>

"Ah," he says. "Well, if I must indulge you, I'm happily married. To a man. Briony is like… a sister to me. She was my first friend when I first arrived here… and I desperately needed a friend." <<include "brionyreturns">>

Nathe frowns. "Of course I do. Why would she lie about that?" You shrug. "There are plenty of reasons. And it's hard to believe someone like <i>that</i> is walking around, not knowing who she is or where she comes from." His frown deepens. "She may act cheerful, as if nothing affects her, but it's more of a front for the benefit of the other fighters. They look up to her, especially the newcomers who are frightened and weak and need a source of comfort and inspiration. She <i>acts</i> happy and gives everyone a smile, but that's not to say that's how she really feels." "You're very trusting of her." <<include "brionyreturns">>

There's something strange about it, some kind of energy radiating from the blade that makes you a bit uneasy. Like the throbbing, invisible heat of a fire, or the chill radiating from metal that's been plunged into the snow. Nathe makes a pained face. "Gonturan? Please don't bring that up to her. It'll only get her started on how it… talks to her." You look at him. "<i>Talks</i> to her?" <<include "brionyreturns">>

Nathe opens his mouth to say more, but then Briony's coming back again. "Nathe," she says breathlessly, shouldering her way through the crowd of gladiators all around you. "The roster—you're on to fight. First match of the day tomorrow." All the blood seems to drain from his face. Nathe vanishes without another word, and Briony takes his place beside you. Outside of the pit, the Staghead has gored the Balor through the side with his strange helmet; his knife has been plunged into the vargur's neck. But then the vargur, undeterred, whirls and plunges its fangs into Staghead's hand, crushing his bones—and the Balor takes the opportunity to disarm him. "<<c falsename>>," Briony says under her breath, touching your forearm. Her hands are calloused and warm. "I know we just met… but I need to ask you a favor." You look at her. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"What is it?" You have to hear what it is first.' 'brionyreturnsi'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'m listening." Gaining her trust could prove useful to your mission.' 'imlisteninggainhertrustuseful'>><<setcunning +1>><<setloyal +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Nod sincerely. "Sure, I\'d like to help you."' 'nodsureidliketohelpyoubriony'>><<setbriony +1>><<set $brionyromanceflag += 1>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Pull away. She has no right touching you or asking you for favors.' 'pullawayshehasnorighttouchingyou'>><<setbriony -5>><<set $brionyromanceflag to 0>><</link>></li> </ul>

She smiles. "Thank you," she says. <<include "brionyreturnsi">>

She beams at you, the hand on your arm squeezing familiarly. "Thank you," she whispers. <<include "brionyreturnsi">>

Briony frowns, but she forges on regardless. <<include "brionyreturnsi">>

"It's about Nathe. I hate to speak of things he'd rather people not know, but it's urgent. You see, Nathe has lost nearly every fight he's been in since he's gotten here." You stare at her. Briony continues: "I've tried to help him, tried to train him, but he's just not a gladiator. Not in that way. He can hunt, but setting yourself up in a tree to aim at a deer grazing is very different from battling it out with other warriors who'd happily maim you. To be honest, it's been a miracle he's survived this long." She shakes her head. "He has too many marks on his name. If he loses again, they're going to send him to the Scales—and I just know something terrible will happen to him, then. No one ever comes back from that. And he's not popular enough for people to donate gold to save him. If he loses this next fight, he's done for. And there's nothing I can do to stop it." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"That\'s awful. We have to do something!"' 'thatsawfulwehavesomethingtodobriony'>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setbriony +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Can\'t we just kill the people who come to take him to the Scales?"' 'cantwekillpeoplewhocometotakescales'>><<setcompassionate -3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"So what can I do?"' 'brionyreturnsii'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Why do you care about what happens to him so much?"' 'whydoyoucarewhathappenstonathesomuchbriony'>><<setloyal -5>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setbriony -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Briony smiles briefly at you. "I know. I'm glad you feel the same way." <<include "brionyreturnsii">>

Briony shakes her head. "Not unless we want to instigate a full-scale coup and break out of here. And we're not ready for that yet. I—" She hesitates, then looks away. "No, we need more time." <<include "brionyreturnsii">>

Briony frowns at you, her gaze hardening. "Do I need a reason other than he's my friend?" "Surely you must have seen other gladiator friends be defeated in battle." She flushes. "And I've tried to help every single one!" <<include "brionyreturnsii">>

<<set $promisedbriony to false>>She takes a breath, then meets your eyes, her hand falling away from you. "Nathe needs to win this next match, <<c falsename>>. It's victory or death for him." "I understand. And…?" "And," Briony says. "I've just seen the roster for tomorrow. <i>You're</i> going to be his next opponent." In the sudden wake of your silence, she grabs your hand and squeezes it plaintively. "You have to let him win tomorrow, <<c falsename>>. <i>Please</i>. If he loses to you, he'll be sentenced to the Scales; if you lose, nothing happens! You'll get a mark on your name, but you'll have <i>months</i> before that even matters, if it ever does! You'll have plenty of victories afterward to make up for it, so you have nothing to lose… whereas this means life or death for him. Literally." She bites her lip, staring into you with pleading violet eyes. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Fine, if it\'ll save his life, of course I have to toss the fight."' 'finebrionyfight'>><<setbriony +10>><<set $brionyromanceflag += 1>><<set $promisedbriony to true>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I have to think about it."' 'ihavetothinkaboutitbrionyreturns'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"What makes you so sure you have to ask me, anyway? For all we know, he could kick my ass."' 'whatmakesyousosurebrionykickass'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"It would be dishonorable to lose on purpose. Doesn\'t he want to win fair and square?"' 'itwouldbedishonorabletoloseonpurposefairandsquare'>><<setcourage +1>><<setcompassionate -1>><<setbriony -3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Like Hael would I let him win. I don\'t even know him. Or you."' 'likehaelwouldilethimwinidontevenknowhim'>><<setbriony -15>><<set $brionyromanceflag -= 10>><</link>></li> </ul>

Her eyes light up, and she leans forward and flings her arms around your neck. <<nobr>><<if $brionyromanceflag gte 2>> She kisses your cheek. <</if>><</nobr>> "Really? Oh, thank you, <<c falsename>>, that'd mean the world to me, I can't thank you enough—" "Thank $them for what?" Nathe says from somewhere behind you. He's returned from looking at the roster, and his face is as haggard as if five years had passed. Briony turns quickly, giving you a significant look. "Nothing. <<c she>>, ah, complimented my hair, that's all. We're just watching the fight." <<include "brionyreturnsiii">>

She nods eagerly. "Of course. But if I can just say—" "Say what?" Nathe has returned from looking at the roster, and his face is as haggard as if five years had passed. Briony turns quickly, flashing you a warning look. "Nothing. I was just, ah, complimenting $her hair. We're just watching the fight." <<include "brionyreturnsiii">>

Briony laughs a little, patting your arm. "No, I can tell you're a fighter," she says, a bit of mirth gleaming in her eyes. "You look like you can handle yourself, that's all." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Puff your chest up. It is true.' 'brionykicksassfollowup'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Look at her, baffled. You\'re not really sure what she means.' 'lookbafflednotsurewhatmeans'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Is she... flirting?' 'isbrionyflirtingrightnow'>><<set $brionyromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <<if $attractedto is not "men">><li><<link '"Oh, I can <i>definitely</i> handle myself." [<b>INNUENDO</b>]' 'icanhandlemyselfbrionyinnuendo'>><</link>></li><</if>> </ul>

She shakes her head. "Never mind." <<include "brionykicksassfollowup">>

Briony pulls her hand away rapidly at your stare, blushing. "Anyway…" <<include "brionykicksassfollowup">>

Briony snorts derisively, though a blush still colors her cheeks. "I'm sure," she says with a hint of sarcasm. <<include "brionykicksassfollowup">>

Before she can say more, though, Nathe returns from looking at the roster; his face is as haggard as if five years had passed. "What are you talking about?" "Nothing," Briony says quickly, turning around and shooting you a meaningful look. "We're just watching the fight." <<include "brionyreturnsiii">>

Briony frowns. "I'm sure he would," she says, "but we're a bit past that option now. I'm asking this as a favor to him <i>and</i> me, <<c falsename>>—please. I don't want him to die." Nathe returns abruptly, and Briony jumps. However, it doesn't look like he heard you; his face is as haggard as if five years had passed, and he seems distracted. "What are you talking about?" "Nothing," Briony says quickly, shooting you a warning look. "We're just watching the fight." <<include "brionyreturnsiii">>

Briony's eyes flash suddenly, amethysts snapping dark fire. "This is about his <i>life</i>, <<c falsename>>," she says, suddenly low and fierce. "Surely you could set that aside for your ego? Do you want me to beg?" "Beg for what?" Nathe has returned, looking wan and haggard, as if five years had passed since he went to look at the roster. Briony jumps before sending you a warning glare. "It's nothing," she says quickly. "We're just watching the fight." <<include "brionyreturnsiii">>

Outside of the pit, Staghead has driven the blade of his knife up into the vargur's chin, impaling its brain. The great beast lies writhing in the dust, limbs thrashing as its nerves misfire. Staghead scrabbles in the dirt with the Balor, rending, ripping, punching, mauling. He's lost his weapon again—he looks in danger of being overpowered—and then he sinks his teeth into the Tainted's neck and rips its throat out. Silence for a moment. Then uproarious applause, rolling down from the high seats like thunder, flowers raining down into the hot dust. Staghead smiles through blood-blackened teeth and climbs to his feet, spitting out ichor and gore. The stadium rings with calls like religious chants. "<i>Staghead! Staghead! Staghead!</i>" The Balor's blood gushes out into a silent black lake in the dirt, an inkwell describing a quick and brutal death. It covers up the goose blood that had been left behind, and the Balor's corpse lays there, twitching, like just another sacrificial animal offered to <<nobr>><<if $belief is "one-god">> a quiet and exacting god. <<else>> a god who never cared. <</if>><</nobr>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "brionyreturnsiv">><</link>></center>

Later, Briony and Nathe take you to the mess hall where you share meals with the other gladiators. They give you some information on the more prominent fighters, including where they came from and how they ended up here, though most of their talk revolves around fighting styles and battle disadvantages. It seems they're used to looking at everyone as a potential opponent—but whatever they think of you, they don't say. "Do fights ever break out between the gladiators after-hours?" you ask, taking a sip of some grassy-tasting herbal tea from a crude tin cup. Glancing around, you notice most of the warriors sit in loose groups of two or three... but many also sit alone. Not an insignificant number of them seem to be assessing you from afar, their gazes neither outright hostile nor particularly friendly. A tense wariness seems to pervade the room, the ambient chatter never rising to more than a weary mumble. A few gladiators meet your eye, only to glance away, their jaws tight. Briony and Nathe glance at each other. "Fights... not exactly," Briony begins, her tone a bit cagey. "Brawling with each other after-hours is prohibited: they want us to save our energy for the bouts, and if we injure other gladiators and cost the arena money, our punishment is so severe that it's just not worth it for most people." She shrugs. "Still, there are always going to be <i>tensions</i>, especially between groups of people forced to live together, and <i>especially</i> against their will." "And under such stressful circumstances, to boot," Nathe mutters under his breath, picking at a bowl of green-flecked spiced rice. "All of these bruisers, hopped up on battle-adrenaline and feeling like they don't have much to lose... It's a miracle there hasn't been <i>more</i> conflict." "You would think more people would rally together," you point out. "Unite against the real enemy—the people keeping us all here—rather than wasting time on each other." Briony pulls a sour face, as if she's said the same thing many times. "You'd think," she says in a tone of exasperated sarcasm. "But that's a tougher ask than you'd expect. There are lot of personalities in here... many of them cutthroat. They're out for themselves and see this place as a dog-eat-dog world. Be careful what you say or do around those ones. Some will sell you out to Tovrik for a few extra meals or a day off of the roster if they get the chance." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"...Noted."</div>' 'notedbrionytalk'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"What? That's awful!"</div>' 'notedbrionytalk'>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setbriony +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I get it. We're all strangers in here. They don't owe anything to anyone."</div>' 'notedbrionytalk'>><<setcunning +2>><<setcompassionate -3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Nathe glances searchingly at Briony, then at you. "There are a few who take it even further than that," he cautions. "I don't think you have to worry about them, being new, but... these people come from all over. Many were selected because no one would miss them, and because they were so battle-hardened... so there are some criminals, mercenaries, and literal cutthroats here." Is he saying that not every person is the innocent Diminished slave you were imagining? "What are you saying?" Briony leans forward, lowering her voice. "There have been a few murders," she says in a murmur. "Sometimes two warriors will be slated to fight against each other, and maybe it's the case that one will be sent to the Scales if they lose, or perhaps they simply fear that the other one will kill or maim them in the coming fight. Sometimes we find someone in their bed with their throat cut in the night." "Oh." You look around surreptitiously, scanning the faces around you, while Briony adds hastily, "But again, it's only a few. Most of the people in here <i>are</i> good people who were just placed in a terrible situation. And you're new, so no one knows if you're a threat yet. You don't have anything to worry about." She forces a smile, though it looks uneasy. "Still. You just have to be careful what friends you make in here." "For many reasons," Nathe finishes lightly, though his eyes are grim and unsmiling. "Most don't make friends at all, simply because they don't want to become too attached to people they may have to kill for others' entertainment in the near future." You all drop your eyes to the table at that, and you know the two of them are thinking about the bout tomorrow. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $promisedbriony is false>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Watch them suspiciously. Of all the people here, <i>they</i> would benefit the most if your throat was opened in the night...</div>' 'autogenerated_685998'>><<setcunning +5>><<setcompassionate -1>><<setloyal -1>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Gaze at them curiously: they're obviously close friends. "What makes you two so different?"</div>' 'autogenerated_685999'>><<setintelligence +1>><<setbriony +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Look at them with clinical interest. "Weren't you two concerned you'd ever be pitted against each other?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686000'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

You're a stranger to them, after all. If faced with a choice between ensuring Nathe's survival or getting rid of future competition that they have no ties to, is it unfeasible to think that they would...? <<include 'suspectbrionyandnathe'>>

While the other gladiators sit together in groups, you don't see many with the obvious closeness and companionship of these two. Briony pulls a rueful face. "Well, when you're a blank slate like me, you don't have many points of reference when it comes to friends," she says in a falsely bright voice, dropping her eyes to her plate once again. "It's something of a kindness, because you don't have anyone on the outside to miss... but it also means the people in here are the only people I've ever 'met.' It's easier for me to... get attached, I suppose, or let people in. <i>They</i> don't need or want friends as badly because they... already know what that's like?" An awkward pause falls at that. Nathe says quickly, "Well, I was lucky to have met you in here. You came to me on my first day, when I was frightened and confused, and gave me a friend and a guide when I thought I was going to die alone without anyone even knowing my true name. It's the one bright spot that's come out of all this." Briony smiles briefly at that, and you turn back to your meals. It's beginning to make more sense to you, at least, why these two showed up at your door and took you under their wing so easily. Of course Briony has more concern and interest about every new person who comes through here. To her, this underground arena is her entire world. <<include 'afterbrionynathemeal'>>

Nathe laughs shortly. "It didn't cross <i>my</i> mind, not when Briony showed up at my door and threw me the lifeline I desperately needed," he remarks. "I was too frightened and confused to be concerned about that, at least at first... I was just happy to see a friendly face who wasn't out to kill me." "And after?" you press. "After you got your bearings and were able to process the situation..." The two of them shake their heads. "It never came up," Briony says simply. "We're, um..." "We're very different classes of fighter," Nathe says, not without a hint of irony. "If the two of us did battle, it wouldn't be very fun for anybody to watch. It's the one thing that's kept us safe so far." Briony catches your eye and looks away again, chewing her lip. <<include 'afterbrionynathemeal'>>

<<nobr>> <<if $cunning gte 50>> Briony and Nathe don't seem to notice your scrutiny, however, continuing to pick at their meals with idle, familiar chatter. They don't <i>seem</i> desperate enough to contemplate murdering you so Nathe doesn't go to the Scales tomorrow, but maybe you should lock your door tonight... Just in case. <<else>> Briony glances up and seems to notice your scrutiny. She seems to jolt, with discomfort and surprise, and quickly looks away. <</if>> <</nobr>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "hotspringsch5">><<if $cunning lt 50>><<setbriony -3>><</if>><</link>></center>

<<page_break "Next" "hotspringsch5">>

After dinner, the two of them show you to the hot springs: a series of underground chambers so humid that you break into a sweat just to go near them. Here, Briony explains, you can bathe in the mineral pools and herbal baths before relaxing your muscles in the natural thermal springs. Before leaving, she looks like she wants to say more, but then she glances at Nathe—who's become more and more preoccupied as the evening has gone on—and sighs, giving you a helpless kind of shrug. Then they bid you good night and take their leave. From there, you descend alone into the hot springs, the air growing warm and thick with salt as you move down the steps into a room where pink crystal lanterns throw a rosy glow across warm sandstone. The curved pools here almost remind you of the turquoise lachryma you saw in the Reach, filled with green and milk-white waters rich with minerals and flowing out of the room in a gentle current. The chamber is enveloped in a curtain of thick steam, and initially seems empty save for a lone woman sitting in the farthest corner, her features obscured from you by vapor. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Turn around and leave. You're not about to bathe with someone else in the room.</div>' 'autogenerated_686001'>><<setintelligence -1>><<setcourage -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Stay, but only strip to your underthings.</div>' 'autogenerated_686002'>><<setloyal +1>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Strip completely, indifferent to the woman's presence. Nudity doesn't mean much to you. </div>' 'autogenerated_686003'>><<setcourage +2>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

The woman makes no comment as you turn and depart in silence. <<include 'bedroomarena0'>>

This may be your chance to talk to another slave of the arena. <<include 'talktolor1'>>

And this may be your chance to talk to another slave of the arena. <<include 'talktolor1'>>

You bathe in silence in the blissfully-warm waters for several minutes before the other woman in the room speaks. Her voice is thick and gravelly, as if she recently survived a throttling. "Sort of surprised the Stormbreaker didn't follow you in here," she remarks, unmoving from within her veil of steam. "Guess you're the latest of her pets, eh?" <<nobr>> <<if $knowstormbreakername is false>> <br><br> Stormbreaker must be Briony's gladiator name, you deduce. <</if>> <</nobr>> <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"What happened to the other ones?" </div>' 'autogenerated_686004'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm no one's pet."</div>' 'autogenerated_686005'>><<setcompassionate -1>><<setcourage +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Guess so. She just decided to adopt me."</div>' 'autogenerated_686006'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"She and Nathe have been good to me. Do you have some kind of problem with that?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686007'>><<setloyal +1>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

The woman shrugs, waving a large, muscular hand in an airy gesture. "They're around," she says dismissively. "Sure, she pretends she's not close to them in front of the arena-masters, but I've seen them in corners, talking and whispering together. They're up to <i>something</i>." She fixes you with a piercing stare. "She tell you anything about it?" <<include 'whatsbrionyupto'>>

The woman snorts, but the way she eyes you seems to hold a new measure of respect. "Sure, I get that. She hasn't had time to sink her claws in you yet." Then she lowers her voice. "But I see her talking to the others, when she thinks the arena-masters aren't looking. She and her cronies are up to <i>something.</i>" She fixes you with a piercing stare. "She tell you anything about it?" <<include 'whatsbrionyupto'>>

The woman snorts. "She tends to do that. Tries to keep every wet-eyed and sniveling whelp who gets dragged in here alive... though for what, I couldn't tell you. Still, it's earned her a few friends in this place... I see them in the corners sometimes, talking when they think the arena-masters aren't looking. She tries to hide it, but it's obvious they're up to <i>something</i>." She fixes you with a piercing stare. "She tell you anything about it?" <<include 'whatsbrionyupto'>>

The woman snorts. "I wouldn't call it a problem. She and you can do whatever you want. But I see her pretending like she isn't close to some others, in front of the arena-masters. But then they're always in corners, talking and whispering together, if you watch closely enough. They're up to something." She fixes you with a piercing stare. "She tell you anything about it?" <<include 'whatsbrionyupto'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Turn things around on her. "Who are you? Why do you care so much?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686008'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Be honest. "No, she hasn't told me anything."</div>' 'autogenerated_686009'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Play coy. "Maybe she has. What would you give me for that information?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686010'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Deflect. "Maybe they're just brainstorming ways to keep Nathe alive."</div>' 'autogenerated_686011'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

The woman gazes at you from across the room. Everything below her neck is obscured by the murky water and wisps of steam, but you can make out tan, broad features, a severe, thin braid of dark hair, an implied muscular build, and thick, jagged scars slashed across her throat, cheek, and nose. "Then she ain't as trustworthy as she seems, is she?" she asks. She lounges back against the rock wall of the pool, lazy and at her ease. "The name's Lor." <<include 'introducelor'>>

The woman gazes at you from across the room. Everything below her neck is obscured by the murky water and wisps of steam, but you can make out tan, broad features, a severe, thin braid of dark hair, an implied muscular build, and thick, jagged scars slashed across her throat, cheek, and nose. "Depends on how good the information is," she says, though her eyes are bright with interest. She lounges back against the rock wall of the pool, lazy and at her ease. "The name's Lor." <<include 'introducelor'>>

The woman gazes at you from across the room. Everything below her neck is obscured by the murky water and wisps of steam, but you can make out tan, broad features, a severe, thin braid of dark hair, an implied muscular build, and thick, jagged scars slashed across her throat, cheek, and nose. She visibly sneers at your response. "They been doing that since he got here," she says with scorn. "Along with a dozen other weaklings like him. She even asked <i>me</i> to go easy on him, once. She learned not to ask again." Then she lounges back against the rock wall of the pool, lazy and at her ease. "The name's Lor." <<include 'introducelor'>>

You keep your voice steady. "<<c falsename>>." Lor cocks her head, as if listening for a lie or some hidden intonation in your voice. From this far away you can't make out her heritage: from her build, she could technically be Ket, Norm, Hunter, or a mix of all three for all you know. She studies you for another moment before saying, "Stormbreaker may be showing you the ropes, but you don't have to do things <i>her</i> way. She wants us all to work together, to game the system so the weak stay alive longer and the strong waste their time pulling them along. But for those of us who know better..." She gives a shrug of her powerful shoulders. "There are other ways to work the system to our favor." "Such as?" "<i>Such as</i>," she drawls, "giving the arena-masters the heads-up on anything you think they'd be interested in. If you hear something about what Stormbreaker's really up to, and you tell me, I can tell Tovrik. He trusts me. And then we both might get a little something for our trouble." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"That's a generous offer. Why are you extending it to me?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686012'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"What 'little something' would I get?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686013'>><<setcunning +2>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"This is pointless, you know. You should be finding ways to rebel against the arena-masters, not kowtow to them like a good little lackey."</div>' 'autogenerated_686014'>><<setcourage +2>><<setcunning -1>><<setcompassionate -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"What's to stop me from telling Briony about what you just told me?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686015'>><<setloyal +1>><<setcunning +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Not interested."</div>' 'autogenerated_686016'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Thanks. I'll have to think about it."</div>' 'autogenerated_686017'>><</link>> <<if $cunning gte 55>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Maybe we can trade information. I'll tell you if I hear anything about what Briony's up to, and you tell me what you know about who runs this place."</div>' 'autogenerated_686018'>><<setcunning +4>><</link>><</if>> <<if $cunning lt 55>><div class="inactive-item">"Maybe we can trade information. I'll tell you if I hear anything about what Briony's up to, and you tell me what you know about who runs this place."</div><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

Lor shrugs again. "You're new here, but you look fresh and strong," she says idly. "You'll be in here a while. Figured you should get the choice of how you want your experience in here to go." That sounds a bit ominous. "I'll have to think about it," you hedge. Lor snorts. "Don't think about it too long," she says. "Offer's no good if you get slaughtered tomorrow. Tovrik's not going to invest in a weakling—and neither am I." <<include 'lorexit'>>

Lor shrugs. "Depends on what mood Tovrik's in and how good the information is. Maybe it'll be coin. Better food at mealtime. Courtesan or two for your room. That kind of thing." So she's exactly the person that Briony and Nathe warned you about. The rewards she's promising won't help you fulfill your mission... but would gaining the trust of Tovrik and the arena-masters be the way to go? However, if you <i>lose</i> the trust of the gladiators here—the very people you've been tasked with rescuing—that wouldn't be very ideal, either. "I'll have to think about it," you hedge. Lor snorts. "Don't think about it too long," she says. "Offer's no good if you get slaughtered tomorrow. Tovrik's not going to invest in a weakling—and neither am I." <<include 'lorexit'>>

Lor's eyes harden, and the dreamy, relaxed air of the room suddenly tenses into something sharper. "You watch yourself, <i>kisich</i>," the gladiator says softly. "Just because you made some friends doesn't mean you're always going to have Stormbreaker or any other <i>sharmooti</i> to watch your back. Especially not if you and I ever face each other in the arena. I promise you that." You stare her down, unflinching. "I don't need anyone else to deal with you. Here or in the arena." <<include 'lorexit'>>

Lor snorts. "Nothing. It's not anything she doesn't already know. But I'll remember which side you picked. Just remember that I gave you a choice." <<include 'lorexit'>>

Lor snorts. "Fine. Your loss." <<include 'lorexit'>>

Lor snorts. "Fine. But don't take too long. Offer isn't always going to be there, especially if you get slaughtered tomorrow. Tovrik's not going to invest in a weakling—and neither am I." <<include 'lorexit'>>

Lor's eyes narrow. "Why do you want to know about that?" The lie flows smoothly and easily off your tongue. "It'd be nice to know exactly who it was who snatched me from my life and put me here in chains. I'm not saying I'll do anything with the information... but it would still be nice to know." She watches you for another moment. Then she merely shrugs, looking for all the world like a lioness lazing after a hunt, and says in a clipped voice: "Well, I can't help you with that. All I know is that it's some bastard they call the Sponsor who built this place, invested his coin and put together a team to run the operation and find people to bring in fighters and slaves. He's not here often, so I'm guessing he doesn't live in Heth Macoll. Some bet that he's a powerful merchant, or that it's one of those trading syndicates or companies funding things under the table, sending a representive out to check on things every once in a while." You nod, but before you can ask more, Lor says abruptly, "Whoever it is, I wouldn't worry about it. You just think about how you're going to last another day, and then the next. It all starts to matter less once you've gotten that figured out." "You never think about who put you in here?" you ask her. "Or what will happen when your luck runs out? No one leaves this place alive, it seems—not even the regular winners. Every day they're just one rolled ankle or one mistimed step away from the same bad fate as everyone else." Lor laughs. "I don't care about any of that. To be honest, my life in here is still better than what it was out there. I get fed and housed, don't I? Earn coin and get to fight to my heart's content? If you claw your way to the top, like I have, it's a pretty cushy life. Nothing like what was waiting for me in my old one." "What was waiting for you out there?" you ask. Lor's smile is fierce and hard. "The guillotine." <<include 'lorexit0'>>

<<page_break "Next" "lorexit">>

She doesn't seem to be interested in conversing much after that. She wades out of the hot springs and leaves you alone with your thoughts for a while, and it's not long after that you follow suit. <<page_break "Next" "bedroomarena1">>

<<page_break "Next" "bedroomarena1">>

Back in your room, you find a note hidden underneath your pillow. Curious, you unfold it, and find a scrawl of glowing, incomprehensible ink. You pause: this must be Red's work, a way to encode the message so that no one else but you can read it. To outside eyes, it probably looks like an empty slip of parchment. You frown down at the paper. If you and Red discussed this encryption, you don't remember: more likely than not, he expects you to instinctively know how to decode it. <<include "revealtheletter">>

<<nobr>><<if $redromanceflag gte 5>> You kiss the parchment, and the words emblazon themselves across the page. <br><br> <<include "arenaletter">> <<else>> But of course, nothing happens, and you feel rather silly for kissing a piece of paper. <<include "revealtheletter">> <</if>><</nobr>>

You give yourself a small papercut using the edge of the parchment, at the tiny scar on your thumb that every adult in Blest sports as a way of signing contracts. The blood wells easily and falls against the paper, and in response, the ink turns red and legible. <<include "arenaletter">>

<<nobr>><<if $red gte 55 or $arcane gte 30>> You concentrate, pressing your will against the paper, and in response, the ink begins to unravel to become legible words. <br><br> <<include "arenaletter">> <<else>> You concentrate, pressing your will against the paper, but nothing happens. <<include "revealtheletter">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<set $loadPassage to Story.get("arenaletter1").text;>> <<letter_holder "note" $loadPassage>> You stare at the message for some time longer, reading and re-reading the same line several times. <i>You need to win every single match you're put in.</i> <i>The mission rides on this!</i> You think of Nathe, and Briony's request to you. Shit. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "arenaletteri">><</link>></center>

<i><<c callsign>>,</i> <i>We've done some digging and found that the arena is owned and ultimately run by a single person called "the Sponsor."</i> <i>Our investigation indicates that the Sponsor is actually going to be in the arena tomorrow, watching the day's fights up at the royal box at the top of the stadium. We're going to see if we can get in somehow, but the chances of us doing so are really slim. You stand the best chance of seeing who they are by posing as a fighter. Supposedly the Sponsor is going to invite the gladiators they like up to dinner with them tomorrow night. Apparently it's some great honor that only happens once a year. <b>You need to be invited to that dinner</b>. You need to win every single match you're put in. The mission rides on this!</i> <i>Write on the back of this, and a servant will pick up your reply in the morning. Let us know you're okay.</i> <<nobr>><<if ($red gt $ayla) or ($redromanceflag gt $aylaromanceflag)>> <i>Also, Voyager won't shut up about you: he keeps fretting and worrying, and it's driving us all crazy.</i> <<elseif ($ayla gt $red) or ($aylaromanceflag gt $redromanceflag)>> <i>Also Tempest is acting really restless: I think she's worried about you, but won't admit it. She keeps snapping at everyone, so hurry back so she calms down.</i> <</if>><</nobr>> <i>P.S. Reaper was near the arena today, but didn't sense the presence of the Balor with his collar on. Just in case you wanted to know. Stay safe and see you soon.</i> <br><br>

The next morning, one of Tovrik's servants comes for you at dawn. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'You\'re already up on your feet, pacing restlessly.' 'arenaletterii'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'You hastily stuff the note back under your pillow. You were just writing your response.' 'arenaletterii'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'You\'re still in bed, and you jolt up, disorientated.' 'arenaletterii'>><</link>></li> </ul>

The servant blinks at you, blandly unimpressed. "It is time for your first match, warrior," she says tonelessly. You dress and follow her towards the mess hall, which is empty save for yourself and the servant. You're given a wooden bowl with rice porridge and two fried eggs, which you down quickly with several glasses of water. Then the servant leads you to a long tunnel that eventually leads up into the arena; at the far end you can see the portcullis and the light of early morning creeping through. Remarkably, it sounds as if the stands are already packed and teeming with excited onlookers. Briony explained to you last night that morning bouts are supposed to be some of the most exciting, to kick off the rest of the day's games, and this one in particular is going to be well-attended due to the Hierophant's arrival and the air of festivity within the city. And, you can't forget, the mysterious Sponsor is going to be here, too: doubtless that adds a tone of significance and expectation to everything. You haven't seen Nathe all morning: presumably he's gotten ready ahead of you and is awaiting in another tunnel on the opposite side of the stadium. Your heart lurches as people outside begin to stamp their feet in expectation. How are you going to handle this? <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'I\'ll see what happens and act accordingly.' 'arenaletteriii'>><<setcunning +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'I\'ll put up a good fight, for appearances\' sake, but ultimately let Nathe win.' 'illputupgoodfightforappearancesake'>><<setcompassionate +5>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'I\'ll go easy on Nathe and let him win handily.' 'illgoeasyonnathelethimwin'>><<setcompassionate +8>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'I\'ll fight Nathe as hard as I can and try to win, for the mission.' 'illfightnatheashardasican'>><<setloyal +5>><<setcompassionate -5>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'I\'ll fight Nathe as hard as I can and win, because I don\'t let anyone beat me if I can help it.' 'illfightashardasnathecan'>><<setcompassionate -8>><</link>></li> </ul>

It will be more convincing to the audience if you make it look like the fight is evenly-matched… but ultimately you'll let Nathe win. You'll just have to figure out another way to meet the Sponsor. <<include "arenaletteriii">>

It will make him look better and improve his standing in the arena if he beats you with ease. You'll just have to figure out another way to meet the Sponsor. <<include "arenaletteriii">>

Even if it means Nathe goes to the Scales… or dies. <<include "arenaletteriii">>

<<nobr>><<if settings.music is true>><<audio "prearena" volume 0.2 play>><</if>><</nobr>>Tovrik appears in the tunnel behind you, folding his arms and looking you up and down with his usual gimlet eye. He has not outfitted you with any armor, or given you any weapons, and you try not to feel naked under his calculating gaze. "Fight well, warrior," Tovrik rumbles. Outside, the audience is cheering and booing in turns: Nathe must have emerged from his tunnel. <i>"Sunflash! Sunflash! Sunflash the Bludgeoner!"</i> <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Don\'t I get a title?"' 'dontigetatitletovrik'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"What are the rules?"' 'whataretherulestovrik'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"...Bludgeoner?"' 'bludgeonertovrik'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Where\'s Briony?"' 'wherebrionytovrik'>><<setbriony +3>><</link>></li> </ul>

Tovrik grunts. "You haven't even fought yet. Maybe if you win a few bouts, you'll earn one." <<include "arenaletteriv">>

"Beat your opponent," Tovrik says flatly. "Fight until he can't fight anymore. So until he gives the sign of surrender, or you cripple him, or…" Or one of you kills the other? <<include "arenaletteriv">>

Tovrik smirks. "Good luck." <<include "arenaletteriv">>

You thought she'd at least come to see you, to talk to you about the fight and what you plan to do, but there's been no sign of her. Tovrik frowns. "The other gladiators aren't allowed to talk to combatants before their fights. Too much opportunity to cheat." <<include "arenaletteriv">>

The portcullis cranks open with the terrible scream of metal covered in rust and blood. Sunlight flashes into your eyes in one blinding burst, and the roars and calls of the audience flood into your brain like a great wave of white water. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'You manage to stagger out, shielding your eyes against the glare.' 'arenaletterv'>><</link>></li> <<if $courage gte 50>><<link '<div class="choice-item">You walk out, your back straight and your chin raised high.</div>' 'arenaletterv'>><</link>><<else>><<disabled "You walk out, your back straight and your chin raised high.">><</if>> <li><<link 'You hesitate, trying to let your eyes adjust, until Tovrik gives you a rough shove.' 'arenaletterv'>><<setreputation -1>><<setcourage -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

<b><i>"Sunflash! Sunflash! Sunflash the Bludgeoner!"</i></b> On the other side of the arena, Nathe stands, looking grim and more than a little scared. He's still dressed in the same clothes as you are, but you notice that, unlike you, he sports a weapon: an enormous, spiked mace propped up against his shoulder, its head so large you think it's even bigger than your own. It looks comically large for Nathe's thin, spindly frame, but he seems to hold it with ease. Well. That explains why they call him the Bludgeoner. Tovrik moves in after you, performing his ritual with the dangling bird to the calls and ecstasy of the crowd. In the meantime, you… <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Concentrate on the fight ahead.' 'concentratefightahead'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Meet Nathe\'s eyes.' 'meetnatheseyes'>><<setcourage +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Look around for Briony.' 'lookaroundforbriony'>><<setcharisma +1>><<setbriony +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Look around for Halek, Red, and Ayla.' 'lookaroundforhalekredayla'>><<setloyal +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Contemplate snatching that sacrificial knife from Tovrik.' 'contemplatesnatchingtovrik'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

They're not going to make you fight Nathe with that mace bare-handed, are you? <<include "arenalettervi">>

He stares back, his face unreadable, though you think there might be a trace of regret in his eyes. <<include "arenalettervi">>

You catch sight of her in the pit, her face small and anxious at ground-level, biting her lip as she stares back at you. At least her pink hair is unmistakable amidst all the dust and noise. <<include "arenalettervi">>

You try to be subtle about it, but of course it's impossible to see if they're here, among a crowd of thousands, all the faces just splotches of color in the hard morning light. <<include "arenalettervi">>

But before you can plan it out, he's moving away from you, back to the safety of the tunnel. <<include "arenalettervi">>

Tovrik's voice, magically-amplified, rings out across the arena. "<b>On one side, we have Sunflash the Bludgeoner</b>! <b>He is one mark away from being weighed on the Scales of Fate! His life rests on the outcome of this match! </b>" "<i>Sunflash! Sunflash! Sunflash the Bludgeoner!</i>" <b>"Because of the importance of this match, we have given Sunflash his infamous mace! That should even the odds! What say you?"</b> <i>"Sunflash! Sunflash! Sunflash the Bludgeoner!"</i> <b>"On the other side, we have a Tyro fighter, unarmed, unarmored… and untitled! But we will allow $them use of $her powers! Sounds like a fitting match, eh? Will this newcomer be Sunflash's executioner, or just more fodder for his mace?"</b> The crowd screams in orgiastic excitement. Tovrik steps even further back. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span><b>"Fight!"</b></span></div></div>' "nathefight">><</link>></center>

<<nobr>> <<if settings.music is true>><<audio "prearena" stop>><<audio "arena" volume 0.1 loop play>><</if>> <<set $nathehealth to 100>> <<set $nathestrength to 15>> <<set $mcstrength to 15>> <<set $brionystrength to 20>> <<set $natheturn to 1>> <</nobr>> Nathe charges at you, raising his mace high and letting loose a cry of anger and frustration. His eyes are blank and full of desperation: more like a trapped animal's than a person's. He is literally fighting for his life here, and while you think he'd rather settle with just making you lose… you can't be sure. You don't have much time to act. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Conjure an invisible shield to deflect the blow.' 'conjureinvisibleshielddeflect'>><<if $magic lt 60 or $astral lt 40>><<set $health -= $nathestrength>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Dodge out of the way.' 'dodgeoutofthewaynathe'>><<if $strength lt 50 or $cunning lt 38>><<set $health -= $nathestrength>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Take advantage of the opening to punch him in the gut.' 'takeadvantageofopeningpunchgut'>><<if $strength gte 55>><<set $nathehealth -= $mcstrength>><</if>><</link>></li> </ul>

<<nobr>><<if $magic gte 60 and $astral gte 40>> You raise your hand just in time for a transparent shield to blossom in front of you, blocking Nathe's blow and making it glance off to the side. He stumbles, thrown off by the sudden change in trajectory. <<else>> You try to raise your hand in time, but the shield you hastily throw up is weak, and Nathe's mace passes right through it, slowed down only enough to glance off your right shoulder. You feel the spikes catch at your thin shirt and then the bitter sting of pain. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "nathefighti">>

<<nobr>><<if $strength gte 50 and $cunning gte 38>> You leap out of the path of the mace as it swings down, sidestepping it neatly and sending Nathe off-balance as the mace plummets down into the empty air. He stumbles, trying to keep his footing. <<else>> You try to roll out of the path of the mace, but you are too slow to react. You move just enough so that the mace only glances you, but you feel the spikes catch at your thin shirt and then the bitter sting of pain. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "nathefighti">>

<<nobr>><<if $strength gte 55>> You leap forward, surprising Nathe, and punch him hard in the gut before he can bring the mace down on you. He doubles over, wheezing, but manages to keep his footing as well as his hold on his weapon. <<include "nathefighti">> <<else>> You leap forward, intending to punch Nathe, but he's ready for you, sweeping his mace around in a deadly arc too difficult for you to pass. <<include "nathefighti">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<set $nathedisarmed to false>>You feint to the right, ducking and weaving as you try to keep away from that huge, deadly cudgel. Nathe is clearly much stronger and faster than you'd expected… and he is definitely not playing around. Nathe straightens, bringing the mace up again to hover in the air between you as the crowd stamps their feet and shouts in approval. "I will try not to hurt you as much as I can," Nathe says, eyes sad, "but I need to win this fight. I need to go home to my family." <<include "fightnathe">>

<<nobr>><<if $natheturn gte 5>> <<include "endfightnathe">> <<else>> <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Keep talking to keep him off-balance.' 'talknathe'>><<set $natheturn += 1>><<setcunning +3>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Launch into an offensive attack.' 'offensenathe'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Stay on the defense and wait to see what he does.' 'defensenathe'>><<set $natheturn += 1>><<if $strength lt 60>><<set $health -= $nathestrength>><</if>><</link>></li> </ul> <</if>><</nobr>>

Nathe is well-equipped against you, so you need to find some other way of wearing him down: your words. <ul class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("areyoureallygoingkillmeifyouhaveto")>><li><<link '"Are you really going to kill me, if you have to?"' 'areyoureallygoingkillmeifyouhaveto'>><<set $nathestrength -= 5>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("sothisiswhyyouandbrionybefriendedme")>><li><<link '"So is this why you and Briony befriended me?"' 'sothisiswhyyouandbrionybefriendedme'>><<set $mcstrength += 5>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("didyouplanthisdidyousetmeupsoyoucouldbeatmemoreeasily")>><li><<link '"Did you plan this? Did you set me up so you could beat me more easily?"' 'didyouplanthisdidyousetmeupsoyoucouldbeatmemoreeasily'>><<set $nathestrength -= 5>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("dontevenbotheryounevergoinghomefamily")>><li><<link '"Don\'t even bother. You are never going to get home to your family."' 'dontevenbotheryounevergoinghomefamily'>><<set $nathestrength += 5>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link 'But he\'s moving too fast, and you can\'t think quickly enough to say much.' 'natheattackorhitordefense'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Nathe's face falters. "No! I don't even want to hurt you… I don't <i>want</i> to fight you. Please, understand. I just need to beat you, as quickly and painlessly as I can. It's not about you…" <<include "natheattackorhitordefense">>

"So you could scope me out as a fighter, figure out my weaknesses? Or did you just want to soften me up so I'd go easy on you? I knew you must have had a motive for wanting to be my friends." Nathe's face falters. "What? No, we didn't even know you would fight me until after—when we checked the roster… You saw it all! We didn't know!" <<include "natheattackorhitordefense">>

He shakes his head. "No, I swear! None of this was planned… I had no idea you'd be the one to fight me…" <<include "natheattackorhitordefense">>

But from the way Nathe's face spasms, you can tell that was a mistake. His eyes flash with something fiery, and he grits out, "Yes, I will!" <<include "natheattackorhitordefense">>

<<nobr>><<if $natheturn is 2 or $natheturn is 3>> Nathe swings the mace at you in a quick series of sideways swipes, wielding the weapon with as much ease as if it were a wooden bat. <<elseif $natheturn is 4>> Nathe surprises you by suddenly thrusting the mace rather than swinging it at you. <<elseif $natheturn is 5>> Nathe brings the mace down in a high overhead swing, sending it arcing towards the ground with so much force you can feel the wind whistling against your face. <</if>><</nobr>> <<nobr>><<if $strength gte 60>> You manage to dodge out of the way, feinting to the left and putting yourself out of harm's way. Momentarily. <<else>> You try to dodge, but you are too slow—or rather, Nathe is too fast. The mace clips your side, and you feel fiery pain blazing through your ribs. <</if>><</nobr>><<include "fightnathe">>

You coil your body in preparation to go on the offense. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Attack him with your magic.' 'magicalnathe'>><<set $natheturn += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Hit him with a physical blow.' 'physicalnathe'>><<set $natheturn += 1>><<if $natheturn is 1>><<if $strength gte 55>><<set $nathehealth -= 10>><<set $nathestrength -= 5>><<else>><<set $health -= $nathestrength>><<set $mcstrength -= 5>><</if>><<elseif $natheturn is 2>><<if $strength gte 55>><<set $nathehealth -= 10>><<set $nathestrength -= 5>><<else>><<set $health -= $nathestrength>><<set $mcstrength -= 10>><</if>><<elseif $natheturn is 3>><<if $strength gte 55>><<set $nathehealth -= 15>><<set $nathestrength -= 5>><<else>><<set $health -= $nathestrength>><<set $mcstrength -= 10>><</if>><<elseif $natheturn is 4>><<if $strength gte 60>><<set $nathehealth -= 15>><<set $nathestrength -= 5>><<else>><<set $health -= $nathestrength>><<set $mcstrength -= 10>><</if>><<elseif $natheturn is 5>><<if $strength gte 65>><<set $nathehealth -= 20>><<set $nathestrength -= 10>><<set $nathedisarmed to true>><<else>><<set $health -= $nathestrength>><<set $mcstrength -= 25>><</if>><</if>><</link>></li> </ul>

You ready your magic, though Nathe is moving so quickly that it's hard to decide what to do with it. <ul class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("blastfewfireballsathim")>><li><<link 'Blast a few fireballs at him.' 'blastfewfireballsathim'>><<if ($astral gte 50 and $magic gte 60) or ($specialization is "battle" and $magic gte 60) or ($specialization is "elementalist" and $magic gte 60)>><<set $nathehealth -= 20>><<set $nathestrength -= 10>><<else>><<sethealth -20>><<set $mcstrength -= 10>><</if>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("formairintofisttopunchhimbackwards")>><li><<link 'Form the air into a fist to punch him backwards.' 'formairintofisttopunchhimbackwards'>><<if ($astral gte 50 and $magic gte 60) or ($specialization is "battle" and $magic gte 60) or ($specialization is "elementalist" and $magic gte 60)>><<set $nathehealth -= 20>><<set $nathestrength -= 10>><<else>><<sethealth -20>><<set $mcstrength -= 10>><</if>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("createillusionthatwillbindnathe")>><li><<link 'Create an illusion that will blind him.' 'createillusionthatwillbindnathe'>><<if ($psionic gte 45 and $magic gte 60) or ($specialization is "enchanter" and $magic gte 60)>><<set $nathehealth -= 10>><<set $nathestrength -= 5>><<else>><<sethealth -10>><<set $mcstrength -= 5>><</if>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("teleportaroundstrikehimbehind")>><li><<link 'Teleport around him to strike him from behind.' 'teleportaroundstrikehimbehind'>><<if ($arcane gte 50 and $magic gte 60) or ($specialization is "conjurer" and $magic gte 50)>><<set $nathehealth -= 15>><<set $nathestrength -= 5>><<else>><<sethealth -20>><<set $mcstrength -= 5>><</if>><</link>></li><</if>> </ul>

<<nobr>><<if ($astral gte 35 and $magic gte 60) or ($specialization is "battle" and $magic gte 60) or ($specialization is "elementalist" and $magic gte 60)>> You fling a few fireballs at Nathe, and he's too slow to dodge them all; one whizzes past his right side, singeing his entire arm and burning off his sleeve. <br><br> He stumbles back, gritting his teeth against the pain, but gamely manages to keep on his feet. <<else>> You try to conjure fire, but all you manage is a weak puff of hot air before Nathe is charging, bashing your right shoulder with the blunt part of his mace. You go flying sideways and roll in the dirt, barely managing to scramble up before he's after you again. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "fightnathe">>

<<nobr>><<if ($astral gte 35 and $magic gte 60) or ($specialization is "battle" and $magic gte 60) or ($specialization is "elementalist" and $magic gte 60)>> You form a fist with the air, something Mages sometimes call a gravity punch; Nathe goes flying backwards like a ragdoll and strikes the opposite wall of the arena, crumpling to the ground with a groan. You prepare a second attack, but he manages to roll out of the way just in time. <<else>> You try to give the air shape and weight, but you're not able to concentrate well enough before Nathe barrels into you instead. You find yourself being borne down to the ground; you manage to push him off of you and roll away, but not before he gets in a few well-aimed punches and kicks. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "fightnathe">>

<<nobr>><<if ($psionic gte 35 and $magic gte 60) or ($specialization is "enchanter" and $magic gte 60)>> You send out a tendril of thought and set off an explosion of light in Nathe's brain, making him believe an entire display of explosives has gone off all around him. He reels, crying out and waving wildly at the illusory lights, and you take advantage of the opening to kick him in the chest and send him sprawling. <br><br> He manages to scramble to his feet, wiping his eyes as if he's had sand thrown into them. He shakes his head furiously and growls. "Stop with the tricks!" <<else>> You wave your hand and try to create an explosion of light in Nathe's brain, but his will rebels against yours, and you don't seem to have any effect on him. He growls and aims a kick at your chest, sending you sprawling. <br><br> You manage to scramble to your knees and evade his next blow, but it's close. <</if>><</nobr>><<include "fightnathe">>

<<nobr>><<if ($arcane gte 35 and $magic gte 60) or ($specialization is "conjurer" and $magic gte 50)>> Nathe's mace comes flying at you, and you feel yourself dissolve into the air like smoke. You flash behind him in the next second, "stepping" the few yards through him to aim a kick at the small of his back. <br><br> Nathe grunts in surprise, flying forwards. You stomp on his leg before he manages to flail his other one out and send you skipping backwards. He gets to his feet, painfully slow but steady, but you can see the damage has already been done. <<else>> You try to skip forward through time and space to materialize behind Nathe, but you actually wind up propelling yourself into his incoming fist. It's like you've run into a brick wall; stars explode in your vision, and you go flying backwards. <br><br> When the dust clears, you manage to roll to your feet, but you taste coppery blood in your mouth. That did not pan out like you thought it would. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "fightnathe">>

<<nobr>><<if $natheturn is 1>> You aim a hard kick at Nathe's leg, <<if $strength gte 55>> and he grunts in pain as the hit lands and his shin crumples awkwardly. He manages to stay on his feet and swipes to keep you back, but it looks unwieldy and difficult. <<include "fightnathe">> <<else>> but you miss, stumbling forward awkwardly just as Nathe swings his mace. You manage to dodge it, clumsily, but his fist comes up and clocks you in the chin, sending pain buzzing throughout your teeth. <<include "fightnathe">> <</if>> <<elseif $natheturn is 2>> You aim a strong blow to Nathe's solar plexus, <<if $strength gte 55>> making him double over and wheeze painfully for breath. He nearly drops his mace, wavering on his feet, but he manages to keep one eye on you even while he chokes. The crowd roars for more. <<include "fightnathe">> <<else>> but you miss, and he grabs your wrist and yanks you forward, sending you tumbling into the dust. The crowd shrieks and jeers as Nathe raises his mace, bringing it down into the dust close to your head. "Give up!" he roars. The spiked metal doesn't sink into your forehead, as you expect, but it does send stinging dirt flying into your eyes, and you are momentarily blinded. You scramble to your feet as the crowd howls for more. <<include "fightnathe">> <</if>> <<elseif $natheturn is 3>> You send two blinding jabs towards Nathe's face, <<if $strength gte 55>> connecting cleanly and nearly dislocating his jaw. He stumbles backwards, groaning and clutching his face, and you close in ruthlessly, sending another flurry of jabs to his unprotected chin, neck, and nose. Nathe flails his arm out, the mace sending you skipping back, but you've got him up against the ropes now. <<include "fightnathe">> <<else>> but you miss, and he takes advantage of the opening by punching you in the face back. You hear the hard crunch of cartilage, and blinding white pain explodes across your vision. You stumble backwards, clutching your face, and through the screams of the crowd you hear Nathe say, "Sorry!" <br><br> Growling in frustration, you force yourself to open your eyes and grit your teeth through the agony; blood drips down your chin and splatters in the dirt. The crowd screams with delight. <<include "fightnathe">> <</if>> <<elseif $natheturn is 4>> You launch yourself at Nathe in a flying tackle, <<if $strength gte 60>> barreling into him and slamming the crowd of your head into his stomach. You tumble into the dirt together, scrabbling, scratching, hitting; Nathe manages to twist away, still keeping a desperate hold on his weapon, but you can tell that he's severely winded and disorientated. <<include "fightnathe">> <<else>> but he sidesteps, nimbly avoiding your move and sending you flying face-first into the dust. You roll just as his mace comes down, but then he steps on your stomach, winding you badly. You don't know if it was intentional or an accident, but all you can do is keep moving, even though your body is screaming at you to stop. The audience screams, too. <<include "fightnathe">> <</if>> <<elseif $natheturn is 5>> You aim a vicious kick at Nathe's groin, <<if $strength gte 65>> and finally he doubles over, groaning through his teeth. He finally drops his mace, though he manages to kick it behind him before you can dive at it. Still, at least he's finally disarmed. <<include "fightnathe">> <<else>> but his eyes flare at your dirty move, and he easily sidesteps, swinging his mace down onto your arm and splintering your wrist with a sickening crunch. Your vision whites out; the world goes silent as you scream. When you're able to see again, you're lying on the ground, crawling away with your arm tucked pitifully against your chest. <<include "fightnathe">> <</if>> <<else>> <<include "fightnathe">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>> <<if settings.music is true>><<audio ":playing" fadeoverto 7 0>><</if>> <<if ($nathehealth gt $health) or $health lte 10>> <<include "losefightnathe">> <<elseif $health gte $nathehealth>> <br><br> <<include "decidenathesfate">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "decidenathesfatei">><</link>></center>

You battle it out for a while, but soon enough, it's all over, and you find yourself standing across from Nathe as he clutches his wounded arm, <<nobr>><<if $nathedisarmed is true>> the mace lying abandoned at his feet. <<else>> the mace slack and useless in his hand. <</if>><</nobr>> You've fought him to a standstill, and it's clear—to you at least—that you've won this fight… and when Nathe meets your gaze, his eyes are resigned and dull. "Do what you will, then," he says wearily. "We can't tie. One of us has to make the finishing blow." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Allow Nathe to win and save him from the Scales, throwing the match.' 'forfeitfightnathe'>><<set $natheoutcome to "forfeit">><<setbriony +10>><<set $brionyromanceflag += 2>><<setcompassionate +10>><<setloyal -5>><<set $brionystatus to "She's forever loyal to you for protecting her friend, Nathe, and in turn will always defend you.">><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Defeat Nathe fair and square, even if it means he\'ll be sent to the Scales.' 'winfightnathe'>><<setcompassionate -8>><<setloyal +10>><<setbriony -30>><<set $brionystrength to 25>><<setred +3>><<setayla +3>><<sethalek +3>><<set $natheoutcome to "won">><<set $brionystatus to "She's angry with you for defeating her friend, Nathe, when she specifically asked you not to.">><</link>></li> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Defeat Nathe and finish him off. Death in honorable combat is better than death at the Scales.</div>' 'defeatkillnathe'>><<setcompassionate -40>><<set $brionyhate to true>><<set $numberofhated += 1>><<set $briony to 0>><<set $brionystrength to 50>><<setred -20>><<sethalek -10>><<setayla -8>><<set $cantbecommander += 1>><<set $natheoutcome to "killed">><<set $brionystatus to "She will never forgive you for killing her friend, Nathe.">><</link>> </ul>

It will be a small mercy. You pick up Nathe's mace, and his eyes turn wide and frightened as he sags involuntarily to the ground. Then, before anyone can stop you, you raise the weapon high and bring it down on Nathe's head with a <i>crunch</i>. He dies instantly. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "defeatkillnathei">><</link>></center>

"<i>No!</i>" Briony's scream is lost in the tumult from the audience, cheers and screams rolling down from the stands like waves of thunder—but then you feel the air begin to heat up and spark, as if an actual static storm was building suddenly in the arena. You glance back and you see Briony's eyes blazing with violet fire; a hot, headachy press against your eyes tells you that her latent magic is surging over the stadium like a clear sheet of flame. She looks at you with genuine hatred in her gaze. "<b>And the Tyro is our winner</b>!" Tovrik's voice booms out triumphantly across the ranks of rabid onlookers. A portcullis on the other side of the arena opens, and a pair of slaves scurry over and drag Nathe's corpse away. "<b>And what a fitting end for our Sunflash—he surely would have lost when he was sent to the Scales, no</b>?" You hear cheers to the tune of "<i>Honor in death</i>!" and "<i>A warrior's death</i>!" as well as cries of "<i>He should have been given a chance</i>!" You turn, expecting to be allowed out of the arena, but instead the portcullis clangs down again just before you can reach it. There is a pause as the crowd continues to roar, and then Tovrik announces: "<b>The Sponsor has declared he would like to see a harder fight: Sunflash was no match against our promising new warrior! Would you like to see our Tyro go to the next round</b>?" "<i>Yes! Yes</i>!" You see Tovrik across the arena, in one of the first rows; he turns to you with a glittering smile, like a shark's promise. "<b>Next up</b>," he booms, "<b>it's Sunflash's killer versus his closest friend… the Stormbreaker is entering the arena!</b>" <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>"<i>Stormbreaker! Stormbreaker!</i>"</span></div></div>' "defeatkillnatheii">><</link>></center>

The tight, headachy feeling between your eyes increases to a knifepoint. The portcullis opens again, but this time it's Briony who steps out, stiffly, slowly, like she's been wounded. But her eyes tell a different story. She looks blazingly angry. Tovrik ducks his head to listen to a servant whispering something to him. The smile on his face widens. "<b>NO. HOLDS. BARRED!</b>" <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>"<i>Kill the Tyro! Kill the Tyro!</i>"</span></div></div>' "defeatkillnatheiii">><</link>></center>

Without missing a beat, Briony surges towards you. White flame burns around her fist. Uh-oh. <<include "fightbriony">>

You meet Nathe's eyes, and he must see something in your own gaze, because his shoulders relax ever so slightly. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I hope you get out of here and find your family."' 'ihopeyougetoutherefindfamily'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'m only doing this so Briony doesn\'t hate me."' 'imonlydoingthissobrionydoesnthateme'>><<setbriony +1>><<set $brionyromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"If I do this, you need to help me find a way of meeting the Sponsor."' 'ifidothisyouneedtohelpmeetsponsor'>><<setloyal +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Just get this over with.' 'forfeitfightnathei'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Nathe smiles tentatively at you. "I will. I swear I will." <<include "forfeitfightnathei">>

A trace of a smile appears on his face. "Thank you anyway," Nathe says softly. <<include "forfeitfightnathei">>

A look of puzzlement crosses Nathe's face. "I'll do all I can," he says slowly. "Which isn't much—I don't have much influence—but Briony does." <<include "forfeitfightnathei">>

You pretend to swoon, swaying to the right before you allow yourself to collapse to the ground. Nathe rushes over and pretends to kick you several times in the ribs; you jerk and convulse accordingly. You're not sure how convincing it is, but the audience seems to be eating it up. "<b>What a comeback! What a triumph! Sunflash the Bludgeon has defeated the newcomer warrior!</b>" Tovrik booms. "<b>He has saved himself from the Scales today!</b>" "You saved me, <<c falsename>>," Nathe whispers to you as servants come to lead him away. "I'll never forget that. Thank you." You wait for a few moments, figuring it's better to lie on the ground and pretend at weakness than get up immediately and ruin the charade. Then, finally, you drag yourself to your feet to the jeers and boos of the crowd. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Nathe had better appreciate this.' 'forfeitfightnatheii'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Briony had better appreciate this.' 'forfeitfightnatheii'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'You just hope you can still fulfill your mission.' 'forfeitfightnatheii'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'You know you\'ll figure something out.' 'forfeitfightnatheii'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'You just want to rest for now.' 'forfeitfightnatheii'>><</link>></li> </ul>

But when you look up, you notice that the portcullis that Nathe exited through is now shut again. Nathe himself has disappeared. <<include "lostfight">>

You connect gazes with Nathe one last time, and you see the defeat and resignation in his expression. Then you leap forward, easily sidestep his half-hearted blow, and punch him in the face, knocking him out cold. <i>Whump!</i> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span><i>"No!"</i></span></div></div>' "winfightnathei">><</link>></center>

Briony's heartbroken cry is lost amidst the hungry roars and cheers of the crowd, which threaten to swallow you like a wave of thunder. People scream in orgiastic delight as servants scuttle forward to drag Nathe away by his limp legs. "<i>Scales! Scales! Scales! Scales!</i>" Many in the audience stampede to get to the entrance, presumably following Nathe's journey as he's carried out of the arena to the contraption that will decide his fate. The cheers and excitement fade away, and finally you are left alone in the middle of the stadium as flowers and tokens rain down on you like gifts from heaven. Then you feel the air begin to heat up and spark, as if an actual static storm was building suddenly in the arena. You glance back and you see Briony's eyes blazing with violet fire; a hot, headachy press against your eyes tells you that her latent magic is surging over the stadium like a clear sheet of flame. She looks at you with genuine fury in her gaze. "<b>And the Tyro is our winner</b>!" Tovrik's voice booms out triumphantly across the ranks of rabid onlookers. "<b>And what a fitting end for our Sunflash—we will see what the Scales decide for his fate!</b> <b>Do you think he stands a chance of winning?</b>" Raucous cheers and laughter greet his question; it's clear that no one believes Nathe will be popular enough to garner the amount of gold needed to spare his life. You try not to grimace. Then you turn, expecting to be allowed out of the arena, but instead the portcullis clangs down again just before you can reach it. There is a pause as the crowd continues to roar, and then Tovrik announces: "<b>The Sponsor has declared he would like to see a harder fight: Sunflash was no match against our promising new warrior! Would you like to see our Tyro go to the next round</b>?" "<i>Yes! Yes!</i>" You see Tovrik across the arena, in one of the first rows; he turns to you with a glittering smile, like a shark's promise. "<b>Next up</b>," he booms, "<b>it's Sunflash's defeater versus his closest friend… <i>the Stormbreaker is entering the arena!</i></b>" <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>"<i>Stormbreaker! Stormbreaker!</i>"</span></div></div>' "winfightnatheii">><</link>></center>

The tight, headachy feeling between your eyes increases to a knifepoint. The portcullis opens again, but this time it's Briony who steps out, stiffly, slowly, like she's been wounded. But her eyes tell a different story. She looks blazingly angry. Tovrik ducks his head to listen to a servant whispering something to him. The smile on his face widens. "<b>And this match will be… NO. HOLDS. BARRED</b>!" <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>"<i>Kill the Tyro! Kill the Tyro!</i>"</span></div></div>' "winfightnatheiii">><</link>></center>

Without missing a beat, Briony surges towards you. White flame burns around her fist. Uh-oh. <<include "fightbriony">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "losefightnathei">><<set $natheoutcome to "lost">><<setbriony +10>><</link>></center>

You battle it out and give it everything you've got, but soon enough, it's all over… and you find yourself hunched over, panting, bruised, bloody, and defeated. Nathe stands over you and says quietly, "Do you accept defeat?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Yes."' 'yeslosefightnathe'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Aim one last kick at his legs.' 'aimonelastkicklosefightnathe'>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setcourage +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Nathe makes the gesture that he's won the fight, and the crowd bursts into a riot of sound. Nathe bends down and touches your shoulder. "I'm very sorry. The Healers will fix you right up, though—and if you went easy on me, I'm grateful. I hope we can remain friends." <<include "losefightnatheii">>

Nathe sidesteps easily and kicks you in the ribs, sending fire blooming up and down your side. Your vision whites out. When you're able to see through the stars again, you hear Nathe murmuring, "I'm so sorry," as the crowd roars, "<i>Sunflash! Sunflash!</i>" <<include "losefightnatheii">>

He walks away as the crowd continues to cheer, and after a few moments, you're able to drag yourself to your feet. The portcullis on the other side of the stadium is closed again, though. Nathe has disappeared. <<include "lostfight">>

Tovrik is deep in conversation with a servant whispering in his ear, and finally he straightens and booms: "<b>So, our latest warrior has been defeated by the weakest gladiator we have! But the Sponsor wants to see $them earn $her place… so the Tyro will be placed in a second match right now</b>!" The audience screams their excitement: it's not every day that they get a two-in-one deal. You press a hand to your complaining ribs as Tovrik shouts: "<b>This is the match you've been waiting for! <i>Ironfang is here!</i></b>" <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...Iron What Now?</span></div></div>' "lostfighti">><<if $haveweapon is true>><<set $mcstrength += 10>><</if>><<if $legendarysword is true or $legendarybow is true or $legendarydagger is true or $legendarygun is true>><<set $mcstrength += 20>><</if>><</link>></center>

It takes a few moments, but then the gate Nathe exited through cranks open again laboriously, and something <i>enormous</i> slithers out. You try not to stare as an gigantic scaly creature winds its neck back like a cobra. It looks like a dragon or a Drake, though not as big—maybe the size of an elephant—with beaded purple skin and snakelike yellow eyes. It walks on two legs and lacks arms or wings—but wicked spikes line its ridged spine and tail instead. And even more wicked are the fangs, dripping with green venom, which the thing bares at you in something like a grim smile. A metal collar and thick chain restrain it to the opposite side of the arena for the moment, but you can't imagine that's going to last for long. A wyvern. These bastards caught a wyvern, and now you're going to have to fight it. <<nobr>> <<if $haveweapon is true>> <br><br> Someone throws something down at your feet: your $mainweapon, the one that Ven convinced Tovrik to keep. <br><br> "<b>Can't have $them dying too fast!</b>" Tovrik shouts to the jeering audience. "<b>Won't be as good of a fight!</b>" The wyvern lets loose a mocking scream. <br><br> You pick up your $mainweapon and ready yourself. <</if>><</nobr>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>"Wait!"</span></div></div>' "lostfightii">><</link>></center>

<<notify_codex_bestiary "Wyvern">><<set $wyvern to true>>Briony is standing at the portcullis closest to you, gripping the grate. Her voice is high and reedy amidst all the cheers, but you can still hear her. She beckons Tovrik over, and he frowns. "I want to fight with $falsename!" Tovrik scowls. "No can do, Stormbreaker," he growls. "The Tyro's going to have to defend <<print $them>>self alone. <<c she>> lost to Nathe, so it's $her fight." "<i>I</i> was going to fight the wyvern!" Briony shouts. "It isn't fair to make $them fight it alone, without a chance to recover—let me fight it!" "Nothing is fair in the arena," Tovrik growls. "The Sponsor wanted it this way, so that's how it is." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"It\'s okay, Briony. I can fight alone."' 'lostfightiii'>><<setcourage +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Get back, Briony, it\'s dangerous!"' 'lostfightiii'>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Let Briony fight!"' 'letbrionyfightlostfight'>><<setbriony +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"This is all your fault! If I hadn\'t lost to Nathe, I wouldn\'t be here."' 'lostfightiii'>><<setbriony -3>><<setcunning +1>><<setcompassionate -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Tovrik shakes his head. "No way." <<include "lostfightiii">>

Briony's eyes flare dangerously for a moment. Then, tight-lipped, she grasps the metal grate of the portcullis and <i>pulls.</i> The bottom half of the gate is yanked off of its hinges, and for a moment Briony stands there, hefting the enormous metal fencing like she's holding a basket over her head. Then she tosses it at Tovrik, the portcullis crashing at his feet, and strides into the arena to the excited screams of the spectators. "I am fighting with <<c falsename>>," Briony says, her voice very calm but her eyes blazing with ferocity. "You can try to stop me, or you can get out of the way." Tovrik glances at the twisted metal, bent like taffy, and scowls—but then a servant hustles forward and whispers something into his ear. The arena-master grunts, unimpressed by whatever he was told… but then he waves a many-ringed hand. <b>"Fine</b>," his amplified voice says across the stadium. "<b>The Stormbreaker will fight alongside the newcomer</b>." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>"<i>Stormbreaker! Stormbreaker!</i>"</span></div></div>' "lostfightiv">><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<if $natheoutcome is "lost">> Briony rushes to your side and touches your arm. "Are you all right?" she whispers. She presses a hand to your side and frowns. "I'm not brilliant at healing, but I can try to help." <<include "lostfightv">> <<elseif $natheoutcome is "forfeit">> Briony rushes to you and throws her arms around your neck, her pink hair tickling your nose. This close, she smells of blossoms and something fainter, like rain or salt. <br><br> "Thank you," she whispers, pressing her cheek against yours. "Thank you so much—you've saved his life. And now I'm going to get you out of this." She pulls back, her violet eyes shining and her smile brilliant. "You gave them a good show. I know you really beat him, but—thank you for throwing the match. I know it can't have been an easy choice." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Do I get a reward?" [<b>FLIRT</b>]' 'doigetarewardflirt'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Anything to help a friend."' 'anythingtohelpafriendbriony'>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setloyal -1>><<setbriony +3>><<set $brionyromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I couldn\'t just let him be sent to the Scales."' 'icouldntjustlethimbesenttothescales'>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setloyal -1>><<setbriony +3>><<set $brionyromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You\'re welcome. But I\'m going to need help meeting the Sponsor."' 'yourewelcomebutgoingtoneedhelpsponsor'>><<setloyal +1>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li> </ul> <</if>><</nobr>>

Briony blinks for a moment, as if taken aback—but then a fierce blush swamps her face. "Oh! I guess we can—I mean, I'm not the type to just—oh, let's just talk about it later!" She covers her face for a moment, clearly flustered, before managing to recover herself. <<include "brionygivesfaintsmileheal">>

She squeezes your arm. "Thank you." <<include "brionygivesfaintsmileheal">>

Briony blinks for a moment, then furrows her brow. "Why?" Then she shakes her head. "No, never mind—you don't have to say if you don't want to. Of course I'll help you. Maybe we'll both be able to get in." <<include "brionygivesfaintsmileheal">>

Then she gives you a faint smile. "Let me try to heal you. I'm not <i>brilliant</i> at it, but I promise your insides won't end up as your outsides." <<include "lostfightv">>

Briony nods and knits her brow, seemingly concentrating hard as coolness rushes from her palm and into your side. It's not delicate—more forceful, like a tide of water tumbling over you rather than the careful, thoughtful movements of a surgeon—but it helps you breathe a little easier. The pain eases. Briony gives you a small smile. "That should help." <<include "lostfightvi">>

You close your eyes and concentrate on knitting together bruised flesh and broken blood vessels. A cool relief seeps over you, and soon enough you're standing straight and tall. <<include "lostfightvi">>

<<nobr>><<if $natheoutcome is "lost">> Briony frowns at you. "This was supposed to be my fight," she says. "I don't know why the Sponsor changed it, but I'm not going to let you be punished for saving Nathe—even if you didn't actually intend it. Besides"—the grin she gives you is glittering and fierce—"maybe if we both do well, we'll both be invited to dinner with that <i>kisich</i>. If the time comes to slit his throat, I call dibs." <<elseif $natheoutcome is "forfeit">> Briony frowns at you. "This was supposed to be my fight," she says. "I don't know why the Sponsor changed it, but I'm not going to let you be punished for saving Nathe—I asked you to, so there's no way I'm letting you take the consequences alone. It's my fault you're in here in the first place. And besides"—the grin she gives you is glittering and fierce—"maybe if we both do well, we'll both be invited to dinner with that <i>kisich</i>." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "lostfightvi">>

On the other side of the arena, the wyvern makes a rough, coughing bark—an intimidating sound, a call of challenge. Someone passes Briony her sword before scuttling back through the half-open gate she busted through: the sword is a long white blade with a golden hilt and a multi-colored stone set into the pommel, crackling with a strange and vigorous energy. You can feel the power coming off it the way you can taste lightning, or smell burning fire in the air, or feel the seaside wind blasting against your face just before a storm. Magic… or something else? "<i>Gonturan! Gonturan!</i> <i>Blood-drinker, oath-binder! <b>Stormbreaker!</b></i>" the crowd shouts. Briony turns to you and gives you a confident smile. "Are you ready?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Do I have a choice?"' 'lostfightvii'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Uh... not exactly."' 'lostfightvii'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'m ready." ' 'lostfightvii'>><</link>></li> <<if $natheoutcome is "lost">><li><<link '"I\'m serious, Briony. I want to fight the wyvern alone."' 'imseriousbrionywantofightalone'>><<setbriony -3>><<setloyal -5>><<setcourage +3>><</link>></li><</if>> </ul>

For a moment, she blinks at you. Then Briony frowns. "<i>Why?</i>" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"This is my fight, not yours."' 'goalone'>><<setcourage +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I want to redeem myself, from losing to Nathe."' 'goalone'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I know I can do it alone."' 'goalone'>><<setloyal -1>><<setcourage +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I need to look good to the Sponsor."' 'goalone'>><<setloyal +1>><<setcunning +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I don\'t want to put you in danger."' 'idontwanttoputyouindangerbriony'>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setbriony +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Briony opens her mouth, as if to argue, but after a moment's pause, she must see something in your expression, because she shakes her head. "Fine," she says reluctantly, stepping back. There's a groan from the audience as she sheaths her sword in a scabbard slung across her back. "They won't let me out of the arena, but I'll—I'll just stand back and stay here, then. I won't interfere. If that's what you really want." She looks hesitant, but when you nod, she bites her lip and steps back, placing her back against the arena wall. Jeers and boos echo throughout the stadium, and some people even begin to throw bits of food. <<include "fightwyvernalone">>

Briony shakes her head. "You're not <i>putting</i> me in anything. I'm putting <i>myself</i> here—and I would have fought the wyvern by myself, anyway, if you hadn't lost and that bloody Sponsor hadn't interfered. It's better if we do it together." <<include "lostfightvii">>

But before she can say anything else, someone looses their hold on the chain… and the wyvern surges forward to meet you. <<include "fightwyvern">>

<<nobr>> <<if settings.music is true>><<audio "arena2" volume 0.1 play>><</if>> /* comment INCOMPLETE ROUTE, also loop the music */ <<set $brionyturn to 1>> <<include "fightingbriony">> <</nobr>>

Your magic roars to life in an effort to allay Briony's charge. <ul class="choices"> <<if ($specialization is "battle" and $magic gte 68) or ($magic gte 70 and $astral gte 50)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Form a shield to deflect her attack.</div>' 'fightingbrionyi'>><</link>><<else>><<disabled "Form a shield to deflect her attack.">><</if>> <<if ($specialization is "battle" and $magic gte 69) or ($magic gte 70 and $astral gte 60)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Counter her punch with a super-powered one of your own.</div>' 'fightingbrionyi'>><</link>><<else>><<disabled "Counter her punch with a super-powered one of your own.">><</if>> <<if ($specialization is "wild" and $magic gte 65) or ($magic gte 68 and $psionic gte 50)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Bring a circling hawk down from the sky to harry her.</div>' 'fightingbrionyi'>><</link>><<else>><<disabled "Bring a circling hawk down from the sky to harry her.">><</if>> <<if ($specialization is "elementalist" and $magic gte 50) or ($magic gte 60 and $astral gte 50)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Whip sand into her face.</div>' 'fightingbrionyi'>><</link>><<else>><<disabled "Whip sand into her face.">><</if>> <<if ($specialization is "elementalist" or $specialization is "battle") and ($magic gte 70 or $astral gte 60)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Send a fireball at her.</div>' 'fightingbrionyi'>><</link>><<else>><<disabled "Send a fireball at her.">><</if>> <<if ($specialization is "enchanter" and $magic gte 65) or ($magic gte 68 and $psionic gte 50)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Use an enchantment to blind her.</div>' 'fightingbrionyi'>><</link>><<else>><<disabled "Use an enchantment to blind her.">><</if>> <<if ($specialization is "enchanter" and $magic gte 68) or ($magic gte 70 and $psionic gte 60)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Use an enchantment to paralyze her.</div>' 'fightingbrionyi'>><</link>><<else>><<disabled "Use an enchantment to paralyze her.">><</if>> <<if ($specialization is "shifter" and $magic gte 60) or ($magic gte 65 and $arcane gte 60)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Shift to develop protective spikes over your body.</div>' 'fightingbrionyi'>><</link>><<else>><<disabled "Shift to develop protective spikes over your body.">><</if>> <<if ($specialization is "conjurer" and $magic gte 70) and $haveweapon is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Summon your weapon to you.</div>' 'fightingbrionyi'>><</link>><<else>><<disabled "Summon your weapon to you.">><</if>> <<if ($specialization is "binder" and $magic gte 60) or ($magic gte 65 and $arcane gte 55)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Create magical traps on the ground and set them to explode when she gets too close.</div>' 'fightingbrionyi'>><</link>><<else>><<disabled "Create magical traps on the ground and set them to explode when she gets too close.">><</if>> <<if ($specialization is "conjurer" and $magic gte 65) or ($magic gte 70 and $arcane gte 65)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Summon a spirit of fire to fight alongside you.</div>' 'fightingbrionyi'>><</link>><<else>><<disabled "Summon a spirit of fire to fight alongside you.">><</if>> <li><<link 'You draw a blank on what spell to use.' 'fightingbrionyi'>><</link>></li> </ul>

This section is incomplete. <<popup 'fightingbrionypopup' 'Alpha Build'>>

This section is not yet complete. To simulate this battle as a placeholder, the game will now calculate a multitude of factors and give you an outcome based on procedural coding. Part of this coding is random, but various factors tip the scales one way or the other. Please keep in mind that this is a placeholder system in the alpha version and will be replaced by a legitimate battle system soon. Thank you! <center><<button '<i class="fas fa-dice"></i>  Simulate My Results'>><<goto "fightingbrionyii">><<dialogclose>><</button>></center>

<<nobr>><<if settings.music is true>><<audio ":playing" fadeoverto 15 0>><</if>><</nobr>> <<set $chancetolose to 0>> <<set $chancetowin to 0>> <<if ($magic lt 70 and $strength lt 65) and ($dagger lt 70 and $sword lt 70) and ($gun lt 70 and $bow lt 70)>> <<include "brionydefeat">><</if>> <<if $natheoutcome is "killed">> <<set $chancetolose += 2>><</if>> <<if $health is 100>> <<set $chancetowin += 1>><</if>> <<if $health lt 100>> <<set $chancetolose += 1>><</if>> <<if $health lt 80>> <<set $chancetolose += 1>><</if>> <<if $health lt 60>> <<set $chancetolose += 1>><</if>> <<if $health lt 45>> <<set $chancetolose += 2>><</if>> <<if $haveweapon is true>> <<set $chancetowin += 1>> <<if ($legendarysword is true or $legendarygun is true) or ($legendarydagger is true or $legendarybow is true)>> <<set $chancetowin += 1>> <</if>><</if>> <<if $magic gte 70 and $strength gte 65>> <<set $chancetowin += 1>> <</if>> <<if $chancetowin gt $chancetolose>> <<include "randomwin">> <<elseif $chancetowin is $chancetolose>> <<include "randomtie">> <<else>> <<include "randomlose">> <</if>>

<<if $magic gte 70 and $strength gte 65>> <<set $outcome to 0>> <<set $outcome to random(1,4)>> <<if $outcome lt 4>> <<include "winbriony">> <<else>> <<include "brionydefeat">> <</if>> <<else>> <<set $outcome to 0>> <<set $outcome to random(1,3)>> <<if $outcome is 2 or $outcome is 3>> <<include "winbriony">> <<else>> <<include "brionydefeat">> <</if>> <</if>>

<<set $outcome to 0>> <<set $outcome to random(1,2)>> <<if $outcome is 1>> <<include "winbriony">> <<else>> <<include "brionydefeat">> <</if>>

<<if $natheoutcome is "killed">> <<set $outcome to 0>> <<set $outcome to random(1,10)>> <<if $outcome is 3>> <<include "winbriony">> <<else>> <<include "brionydefeat">> <</if>> <<else>> <<set $outcome to 0>> <<set $outcome to random(1,4)>> <<if $outcome is 2>> <<include "winbriony">> <<else>> <<include "brionydefeat">> <</if>> <</if>>

<<achieve "achieve_beatbriony">><<notify_achievement "Deadliest Warrior" "Defeated Briony Stormbreaker in single combat.">>You defeat Briony by a narrow margin and win the battle! <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Victory!</span></div></div>' "dinnerarena">><<setbriony +5>><<setreputation +5>><<set $brionyoutcome to "won">><<if $natheoutcome is "killed">><<set $gladiatortitle to "Butcher">><<else>><<set $gladiatortitle to "Conqueror">><</if>><</link>></center>

You are defeated by Briony and lose the battle! <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Defeat</span></div></div>' "dinnerarena">><<setbriony -5>><<setreputation -5>><<set $brionyoutcome to "lost">><<if $natheoutcome is "killed">><<set $gladiatortitle to "Butcher">><<else>><<set $gladiatortitle to "Maverick">><</if>><</link>></center>

This section is incomplete. <<dialog 'Alpha Build'>>This section is not yet complete. To continue with the alpha build, the game will proceed to the route where you fight the wyvern with Briony, rather than alone. The two routes are extremely similar, except that it is much harder to defeat the wyvern on your own; but this should serve as a very close placeholder until this route is complete. Thank you for your patience and understanding! <center><<button 'Confirm'>><<goto "fightwyvern">><<dialogclose>><</button>></center> <</dialog>>

<<nobr>> <<nobr>><<if settings.music is true>><<audio "wyvern" volume 0 time 18 loop fadeoverto 5 0.1>><</if>><</nobr>> <<set $wyvernturn to 0>><<set $wyvernhealth to 100>><<set $wyvernstrength to 25>><<set $mcstrength to 15>> <</nobr>>"Don't let it bite you!" Briony shouts as she leaps forward to meet the wyvern; she's <i>fast</i>, moving so quickly it almost looks like she's flying. She's practically just a blur of white metal and bright pink. "Its venom is paralyzing—and if it breathes on you, you might turn to stone!" She dodges the wyvern's lunging bite and whips her sword at its neck, opening a large laceration that looks like a gill. The creature screams and slams its tail down towards her; Briony sidesteps, then speaks a word, and the sword in her hand flames with brilliant white fire—and she plunges the blade up to its hilt into the wyvern's neck. The wyvern roars, shaking her off like she's a bug wielding a splinter. Briony skips lightly back and curses; her sword is still lodged in the thing's neck. You look at Briony, and she looks at you. "...Oops." <<include "fightingwyverntogether">>

<<nobr>> <<if ($wyvernturn is 6)>> <<include "fightwyverntogetherend">> <<else>> <<if $wyvernturn is 1>> Briony shouts something, and her sword lodged in the wyvern's neck glows briefly—then goes flying to her hand in a line of light, blurring like a hawk diving for prey. Briony catches it easily and surges forward again, slashing and stabbing the wyvern's side in a ferocious, deadly dance. The wyvern leans down to bite at her, but Briony twists and leaps nimbly out of the way—but then it lunges at a lucky moment, lashing a spray of venom against her shoulder. Briony rears her fist back and punches its face with enough superpowered strength to send the wyvern flying backwards, its whole body crashing against the far wall with the sound of a falling mountain. The crowd screams. <br><br> "Shit," Briony says, wincing as she brings a hand up to touch her shoulder. Already the venom is beginning to eat a hole through her armor. "It got me—I thought it had to bite you, not just <i>spit</i>. Ow—oh, watch out!" <br><br> The wyvern has recovered and is hurtling towards you again. <<include "fightingwyverntogetheri">> <<elseif $wyvernturn is 2>> Briony has lost her sword again, but that doesn't seem to stop her as she punches and kicks the wyvern with raw, terrifying strength. In this state she could tear an oak tree by its roots and lob it like a spear, easy. You wonder if there's a limit to her powers, or if she's even capable of holding an egg without crushing it. She must be part-Ket—she has the strength—or part-Elf, or both. Whatever she is, it certainly makes for a deadly combination. <br><br> The wyvern seems to know this and keeps its distance from her as best it can in the small arena; then it sweeps its tail along the ground, sending a cloud of choking red dust up into the air… and directly into your eyes. <br><br> Oh. It's <i>smart</i>? <br><br> Briony coughs and shields her eyes. "Shit! Cover me, <<c falsename>>!" <<include "fightingwyverntogetheri">> <<elseif $wyvernturn is 3>> <<set $brionyroll to 0>> <<set $brionyroll to random(1,3)>> <<if $brionyroll is 1>> The wyvern is battering Briony now with more sprays of venom, hissing and spitting long-distance projectiles. Briony puts a translucent magical shield up, the barrier hanging in the air in front of her like a clear sheet of flame. "I can't get an opening!" she shouts at you. "I'll try and distract it!" <<elseif $brionyroll is 2>> The wyvern is battering Briony now with more sprays of venom, hissing and spitting long-distance projectiles. Briony hurls bolts of green light back, orbs burning like cosmic starbursts or meteor streaks, striking the wyvern in the face and neck with explosions of light. Still, it's undeterred, winding its head back for an assault. <br><br> "I can't get an opening!" Briony shouts at you. "I'll try and keep it distracted!" <<else>> Briony runs in a zigzag, serpentine pattern, confusing the wyvern into striking several times at the empty air and raking up mouthfuls of dirt. At one such moment, she turns and drives her sword into its right eye, blinding it; the thing screams and draws its head back, thrashing and flailing as green, acidic blood sprays over the arena. <<set $wyvernhealth -= 10>> <br><br> "Hael's bells, I didn't think of that!" Briony looks sheepish as she ducks. "Stay back!" <</if>> <<include "fightingwyverntogetheri">> <<elseif $wyvernturn is 4>> Briony hurls a fantastic cacophony of white lightning from her hands, liquid light and flame boiling through the air and striking the wyvern's side like molten, blinding magma. The smell of burning flesh fills the air, but still, the damned thing doesn't die. It barely even slows it down. <br><br> Briony curses. "What the kak? Did they feed this thing god beans or something?!" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Keep going, I think we\'ve almost got it!"' 'keepgoingithinkwealmosthavewyvern'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"What are <i>god beans</i>?"' 'whataregodbeanswyvern'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Is anything we\'re doing even working?"' 'isanythingweredoingevenworkingwyvern'>><</link>></li> </ul> <<elseif $wyvernturn is 5>> Briony dodges a sideswipe of the wyvern's tail, darting forward between its feet and punching the ground hard enough to split the earth, forming an enormous, explosive crater in the ground. The wyvern goes down in a spray of burning dirt, rubble, and blood, half-trapped in the sudden sinkhole that's opened beneath it. <br><br> "Now, <<c falsename>>!" she screams. <<include "fightingwyverntogetheri">> <<else>> <<include "fightingwyverntogetheri">> <</if>><</if>><</nobr>>

Her smile is fierce and determined. "You think so? Then take <i>that,</i> you big bastard!" She hurls another bolt of lightning. The wyvern howls with defiant rage, though it staggers under the force of the onslaught. "You've got an opening, <<c falsename>>!" Briony shouts. <<include "fightingwyverntogetheri">>

"I don't know, it's just a saying!" "Who says it?" "I do, I don't know, <<c falsename>>! Is this really the time to be criticizing my turns of phrase?! Oh, <i>duck</i>!" The wyvern barrels between you, its breath steaming and acrid. <<include "fightingwyverntogetheri">>

"I don't know, but—<i>duck</i>!" The wyvern barrels between you, and Briony leaps to her feet with the grace of an Elf. "You've got an opening!" <<include "fightingwyverntogetheri">>

<<nobr>> <<if $wyvernturn is 4 or $wyvernturn is 5 or $wyvernturn is 6>> <<if $mainweapon is "gun" or $mainweapon is "bow">> You aim your weapon and fire a quick succession of <<if $mainweapon is "gun">> bullets at the wyvern. <<else>> arrows at the wyvern. <</if>> <<if $gun gte 65 or $bow gte 65>> Your volley confuses and wounds the wyvern enough for it to stumble backwards, thrashing its head and shrieking. <<else>> <br><br> However, you're too far away and your projectiles are too small and weak to do much than vaguely annoy the wyvern. It flicks you away with its tail like you're a mosquito, and you go tumbling face-first into the dirt. It's a good thing the wyvern's heart wasn't that in it, or you'd be mincemeat. The crowd shrieks with laughter at the sight of you rolling around in the dust like a ragdoll. <</if>> <<elseif $mainweapon is "sword" or $mainweapon is "dagger">> You stab and hack at the wyvern with your $mainweapon, willing the blade to drive deep into its flesh. <<if ($sword gte 65) or ($dagger gte 65)>> <br><br> You succeed, though you wonder how many times you can stab the damn thing and have it not die. Your flurry of attacks seems to slow the wyvern down, though, as it roars and curls its tail defensively over its puncture wounds. <<else>> <br><br> Bringing yourself in such close quarters with the creature turns out to be a mistake, though: the wyvern flinches away from your $mainweapon at the last minute and whips its spiny tail towards you, bringing your legs out from under you and sending you flipping onto your back in an explosive blow. <br><br> Ow. <</if>> <</if>> <<elseif (($wyvernturn is 2) or ($wyvernturn is 3))>> <<if ($mainweapon is "bow") or ($mainweapon is "gun")>> You point your $mainweapon and aim, firing off at a volley at the wyvern. <<if (($bow >= 65) or ($gun >= 65))>> <br><br> Your shots hit their mark, and the wyvern screams with pain as your <<if $mainweapon is "bow">> arrows drive into its flesh. <<elseif $mainweapon is "gun">> bullets drive into its flesh. <</if>> <<else>> <br><br> But you miss, and the wyvern snarls and gnashes its teeth at you, taunting. The crowd also jeers and yells at your failure. <br><br> The wyvern hisses, gathering enough venom in its throat to spit at you; you feel a flash of caustic pain and liquid burning against your hand. <</if>> <<else>> You charge, slashing at the wyvern with your $mainweapon. <<if ($dagger >= 65) or ($sword >= 65)>> The blade sinks deep into the wyvern's right leg, laming it badly; acidic blood gushes out over your fingers, but you fight through the pain to stab the wyvern again and again. <br><br> The creature screams in rage as the crowd cheers. <<else>> But your blade bounces off its hide, and the wyvern lashes out at you with its tail as the audience screams and boos as your failure. You're not able to spin away in time to keep a spike from tearing into your shoulder. <</if>> <</if>> <<elseif $wyvernturn is 1>> You heft your $mainweapon, gauging the wyvern's weak points while it's distracted. <<if $legendarysword is true>> "All right, Clarion," you whisper to your sword, which hums and glows beneath your hand. "Let's see what you're made out of." <<if $sword >= 70>> <br><br> You let your will flow down into the sword, as if it's not a metal weapon, but an extension of yourself: it's your arm, your limb, made of your own flesh rather than something else. <br><br> The sword responds to you, glowing with an eager blue radiance. You hold it aloft, and the blade erupts into a burst of light, abruptly blinding the wyvern as it snakes its head around to look at you. <br><br> The creature screams, and it charges at you; you plunge Clarion into it once, twice, before it learns better and scrambles away, screeching in pain as green blood streaks down its hide. <br><br> Then, in a surprise move, the wyvern's snakelike head whips towards you. <<else>> <br><br> You try to will the sword to activate, to go from cold, inert metal to whatever legendary thing Chandry promised you it would be, but Clarion stays dull and silent. You're so distracted trying to get it to do something that you barely notice the wyvern charging at you like an angry bull. <</if>> <<if $strength >= 65>> <br><br> You dodge nimbly out of the way, rolling to your feet as the crowd cheers and screams in approval. <<else>> <br><br> You try and dodge, but you're too slow; one very angry foot slams down on you, knocking you to the ground as your sword goes spinning away into the air. You lose track of it in all the dust that's kicked up and barely manage to roll out of the way before the wyvern tramples you to death. <br><br> When you manage to scramble to your feet, you see the wyvern staring at you like a bull about to charge and gore its taunter with its horns. Steam actually blasts out of its nostrils. <br><br> Shit. <</if>> <<elseif $mainweapon is "sword">> <<if $sword >= 68>> You charge at the wyvern and hack your blade into one, two, three times, feeling your sword sink into its scaly hide with satisfying weight and heft. Greenish blood erupts over your hands, burning. <br><br> You skitter away just as the wyvern gives an angry scream, lunging at you. <<else>> You charge at the wyvern and attempt to stab your blade into its scaly hide, but your sword feels heavy and clumsy in your hands; it fails to pierce the wyvern's skin, and you barely manage to duck out of the way when it whips its spiny tail at your head, roaring in anger. <</if>> <<if $strength >= 65>> <br><br> You dodge nimbly out of the way, rolling to your feet as the crowd cheers and screams in approval. <<else>> <br><br> You try and dodge, but you're too slow; one very angry foot slams down on you, knocking you to the ground as your sword goes spinning away into the air. You lose track of it in all the dust that's kicked up and barely manage to roll out of the way before the wyvern tramples you to death. <br><br> When you manage to scramble to your feet, you see the wyvern staring at you like a bull about to charge and gore its taunter with its horns. Steam actually blasts out of its nostrils. <br><br> Shit. <</if>> <<elseif $legendarygun is true>> "All right, Thunderer," you whisper to your gun, which almost seems to purr beneath your hand. "Let's see what you're made out of." <br><br> <<if $gun >= 70>> You level your enormous handgun, aim, and fire; an explosive shot erupts from your hand and slams into the wyvern's shoulder, opening a bloody crater below its spine. Your bones vibrate from the blast, and many in the audience gawk at you, never having seen such a powerful and compact weapon before. It was like shooting a literal cannonball, or hurling a bolt of lightning and thunder. <br><br> The wyvern screams and charges at you, blood streaking down its side. <<else>> You level your enormous handgun, aim, and fire; an explosive shot erupts from your hand, but whizzes past the wyvern's head and misses, slamming into the far wall on the other side of the arena. A few people scream as rubble and dust tumbles down, but all it does it make the wyvern angry; it lets loose a screech and charges at you, eyes burning like yellow death. <</if>> <<if ($strength >= 65)>> <br><br> You dodge nimbly out of the way, rolling to your feet as the crowd cheers and screams in approval. <<else>> <br><br> You try and dodge, but you're too slow; one very angry foot slams down on you, knocking you to the ground as your gun goes spinning away into the air. You lose track of it in all the dust that's kicked up and barely manage to roll out of the way before the wyvern tramples you to death. <br><br> When you manage to scramble to your feet, you see the wyvern staring at you like a bull about to charge and gore its taunter with its horns. Steam actually blasts out of its nostrils. <br><br> Shit. <</if>> <<elseif $mainweapon is "gun">> <<if $gun >= 68>> You level your gun and pepper the wyvern with a flurry of shots. It only seems to annoy the creature, who shakes its purple hide like a horse flicking away flies, but at least you see a little greenish blood begin to drip down its sides. <<else>> You level your gun and pepper the wyvern with a flurry of shots, but many miss and strikes the opposite wall of the arena, sending dust showering down onto Briony, who's ducked. <br><br> As for the wyvern, your assault only appears to annoy it, as it shakes the bullets off like a horse flicking away flies. It gives a throaty scream and charges at you. <</if>> <<if $strength >= 65>> <br><br> You dodge nimbly out of the way, rolling to your feet as the crowd cheers and screams in approval. <<else>> You try and dodge, but you're too slow; one very angry foot slams down on you, knocking you to the ground as your gun goes spinning away into the air. You lose track of it in all the dust that's kicked up and barely manage to roll out of the way before the wyvern tramples you to death. <br><br> When you manage to scramble to your feet, you see the wyvern staring at you like a bull about to charge and gore its taunter with its horns. Steam actually blasts out of its nostrils. <br><br> Shit. <</if>> <<elseif $legendarydagger is true>> "All right, Whisper and Requiem," you whisper to your daggers. "Let's see what you're made of." <br><br> <<if ($dagger >= 70)>> You dart forward, wielding your two daggers; before the wyvern can even really react to your presence, you plunge the two of them into its belly in a move that Chase calls "the viper's fangs." It hisses, thrashing so wildly that you have to back off: Requiem's poison seems to have no effect on the creature, the wyvern being a venomous beast itself, but at least you've made it bleed. <br><br> The wyvern screams with rage and whips its barbed tail at you. <<else>> You dart forward, wielding your two daggers; you stab Whisper into the wyvern's side, but the angle of your attack is wrong, and the blade glances harmlessly off the creature's iron-hard skin. Requiem follows, but its poison is useless against the wyvern's own venomous system: all it does is make the wyvern angry, and it roars and swipes its barbed tail at you. <</if>> <<if $strength >= 65>> <br><br> You dodge nimbly out of the way, rolling to your feet as the crowd cheers and screams in approval. <<else>> <br><br> You try and dodge, but you're too slow: a spike catches against your wrist, opening a long, fiery score across your forearm as Requiem goes spinning away. You fumble to recover, but end up dropping Whisper, too. <br><br> The wyvern glares at you with baleful eyes. Shit. <</if>> <<elseif $mainweapon is "dagger">> <<if $dagger >= 68>> You lunge towards the wyvern and drive your dagger into its belly, lending so much force to the blow that it actually sinks hilt-first into the creature's skin and sends greenish blood erupting over your hand. <br><br> The wyvern gives a scream of pain and lunges at you, gnashing its long teeth. <<else>> You charge the wyvern, attempting to stab your dagger into its belly, but your puny weapon is even less effective than Briony's sword; it actually bounces off the wyvern's scaly hide like a blade of grass. The creature swivels and gives you a baleful look, hissing, before dropping its spiny tail down towards your head. <</if>> <<if $strength >= 65>> <br><br> You dodge nimbly out of the way, rolling to your feet as the crowd cheers and screams in approval. <<else>> <br><br> You try and dodge, but you're too slow: a spike catches against your wrist, opening a long, fiery score across your forearm as your dagger goes spinning away. You fumble to recover, but barely manage to escape getting trampled by the wyvern's gigantic legs. <br><br> The creature glares at you with baleful eyes, then seems to smile when it notices that you're disarmed. Shit. <</if>> <<elseif $legendarybow is true>> "All right, Warpwood Striker," you whisper to your bow, which sings and warms beneath your hand. "Let's see what you're made out of." <br><br> <<if $bow >= 70>> You nock an arrow to the bow and let it fly: not only does the magic ingrained in the warm sunwood see to it that your bolt flies straight and true to its mark, it adds a supernatural weight to the blow, driving the arrow deep into the wyvern's chest. It lets out an infuriated, wounded shriek and charges at you. <<else>> You attempt to nock an arrow to your bow, but a sudden clumsiness overtakes you, and the shaft slips out of your sweaty fingers and fumbles uselessly to the ground. You're so preoccupied with trying to recover it from the dust that you barely even notice the wyvern bearing down on you like a freight train. <</if>> <<if ($strength >= 65)>> <br><br> You dive out of the way just in time, rolling nimbly to your feet to the cheers and screams of approval from the crowd. <<else>> <br><br> You try to dodge out of the way, but you're too slow, and a heavy, spiked tail swings at you like a cannonball. The wyvern's tail slams into your stomach, a spike shredding into your side, and your bow goes flying, clattering to the ground many yards away. <br><br> You go flying backwards, landing in the hot dust to the jeers and boos from the audience. You manage to scramble to your feet, winded, bleeding, but intact—and you find the wyvern staring at you like a bull readying its second charge. <br><br> Shit. <</if>> <<else>> <<if $bow >= 68>> You swing your bow up and let a flurry of arrows fly, each one meeting their mark with a satisfying <i>thud</i> as the points pierce the wyvern's thick hide. Greenish blood trickles down its chest as it shakes itself furiously, unable to dislodge the arrows. It lets loose a fearsome, pained shriek and charges you, gnashing its long teeth in a fury. <<else>> You attempt to nock an arrow to your bow, but a sudden clumsiness overtakes you, and the shaft slips out of your sweaty fingers and fumbles uselessly to the ground. You're so preoccupied with trying to recover it from the dust that you barely even notice the wyvern bearing down on you like a freight train. <</if>> <<if $strength >= 65>> <br><br> You dive out of the way just in time, rolling nimbly to your feet to the cheers and screams of approval from the crowd. <<else>> You try to dodge out of the way, but you're too slow, and a heavy, spiked tail swings at you like a cannonball. The wyvern's tail slams into your stomach, a spike shredding into your side, and your bow goes flying, clattering to the ground many yards away. <br><br> You go flying backwards, landing in the hot dust to the jeers and boos from the audience. You manage to scramble to your feet, winded, bleeding, but intact—and you find the wyvern staring at you like a bull readying its second charge. <br><br> Shit. <</if>> <</if>> <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "fightingwyverntogether">>

It seems ridiculous, just charging forward and punching an enormous Tainted creature in the face, but you'd heard once that it works on sharks, so the same principle should apply here. <<nobr>> <<if $strength >= 68>> <br><br> You charge forward, roaring at the top of your lungs; you dodge a lash of the wyvern's tail and launch your fist at its nose. <br><br> The wyvern rears its head back, surprised, confused, and slightly dazed. Briony stares at you as it shakes its head, snorting and uncertain. "I thought you were going to, I don't know, set your fist on fire, or something! Did you really just <i>punch</i> it?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"What, like you don't punch things?"</div>' 'brionyargue'>><<setbriony +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"It worked, didn't it?"</div>' 'brionyargue'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Uh, I guess I did?"</div>' 'brionyargue'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Problem?"</div>' 'brionyargue'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <<else>> You charge forward, yelling at the top of your lungs, but your punch is like a kitten bopping an attack dog on the nose; the wyvern scrunches its nose up like it has to sneeze, but otherwise you have no effect on it. <br><br> <<include "fightingwyverntogether">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Briony opens her mouth to argue, but then the wyvern recovers and charges between the two of you like a tantruming child wanting to remind its parents that they shoul be paying attention to <i>it</i>. <<include "fightingwyverntogether">>

<<if $strength gte 63>> <<if $throwrock is 1>> You pick up a nearby rock and hurl it at the wyvern like a shotput, slamming a piece of concrete the size of a melon into the wyvern's eye. Ouch. That's got to hurt. <<set $wyvernhealth -= 10>> <br><br> <<include "fightingwyverntogether">> <<elseif $throwrock is 2>> You fling a hand-sized rock at the wyvern, striking it in the back of the skull in a lucky strike. It shakes its head, dazed. <<set $wyvernhealth -= 5>> <br><br> <<include "fightingwyverntogether">> <<elseif $throwrock is 3>> You lift a boulder so heavy it takes two hands to even get it up over your head. You fling it at the wyvern, and it crushes the creature's toes. <<set $wyvernhealth -=10>> <br><br> <<include "fightingwyverntogether">> <<else>> You pelt the wyvern with a flurry of small stones and pebbles, enough so that the wyvern stumbles back and trips over its own feet, landing heavily on the ground. It huffs an annoyed breath, a bit dazed. <<set $wyvernhealth -= 8>> <br><br> <<include "fightingwyverntogether">> <</if>> <<else>> <<if $throwrock is 1>> You pelt the wyvern with a shower of rocks and pebbles, but they might as well be flakes of dandruff, for all that they effect the enormous creature. The wyvern growls and snaps its tail at you, flicking you to the side like you weigh nothing. But you feel all your weight as you go flying into the opposite arena wall, to the groans and winces from the audience. <<set $health -= $wyvernstrength>> <br><br> <<include "fightingwyverntogether">> <<elseif $throwrock is 2>> You fling a baseball-sized rock at the wyvern… and miss! It rewards you for your failure but smashing its tail violently down on your head. Through your daze and swimming vision, you see someone in the audience faint. You manage to crawl back to your feet as Briony flies in to distract the wyvern. <br><br> "Are you all right?" she shouts, fending the beast off with her sword. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Yuh, Em joost feeni!"</div>' 'yuhbriony'>><<set $health -= $wyvernstrength>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Probably brain-damaged, but still kicking!"</div>' 'yuhbriony'>><<set $health -= $wyvernstrength>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I liked having all my teeth."</div>' 'yuhbriony'>><<set $health -= $wyvernstrength>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <<elseif $throwrock is 3>> You lob a large chunk of concrete when the wyvern has its back turned, but either a preternatural reflex or very bad luck has it whipping its tail through the air like a wooden bat, sending the rock flying back to you with twice the velocity with which you threw it. You're not able to dodge in time and are struck by your own projectile… Tovrik makes some pithy comment to the howling audience, but you're too dazed to really hear. <<set $health -= $wyvernstrength>> <br><br> <<include "fightingwyverntogether">> <<else>> You chunk a rock at the wyvern, but all it does is get caught between the wyvern's spikes, rattling like a marble. The wyvern retaliates by smashing you across the stomach with its tail. Ow. <<set $health -= $wyvernstrength>> <br><br> <<include "fightingwyverntogether">> <</if>> <</if>>

<<set $health -= $wyvernstrength>>"<i>What</i>?" But you're not able to answer her before the wyvern slams between you again. <br><br> <<include "fightingwyverntogether">>

You wave your arms and jump up and down to get the wyvern's attention. "HEY!" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("bigboywyvern")>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"...BIG BOY!"</div>' 'bigboywyvern'>><<set $wyverntaunted to random(1,2)>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("fatasswyvern")>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"...FAT-ASS!"</div>' 'fatasswyvern'>><<set $wyverntaunted to random(1,2)>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("chickenwyvern")>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"...YOU BIG CHICKEN!"</div>' 'chickenwyvern'>><<set $wyverntaunted to random(1,2)>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("badbreathwyvern")>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"...BAD BREATH!"</div>' 'badbreathwyvern'>><<set $wyverntaunted to random(1,2)>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"...YOU OL' STINKER!"</div>' 'youolstinkerwyvern'>><<set $wyverntaunted to random(1,2)>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

The crowd screams with laughter at your comical insult. <<include "wyvernreactiontaunting">>

<<if $wyverntaunted is 1>> The wyvern seems more confused by your name-calling than anything—you're not entirely sure it understands human speech as anything more than garbled yelling—but at least you distract it enough for Briony to get a good hit in. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span><i>Pow!</i></span></div></div>' "fightingwyverntogether">><<set $wyvernstrength -= 5>><<if $wyverntaunt is 1>><<set $wyvernhealth -= 5>><<elseif $wyverntaunt is 2>><<set $wyvernhealth -=10>><<else>><<set $wyvernhealth -= 15>><</if>><</link>></center> <<else>> The wyvern's feelings seem hurt by your insult, and it bares its teeth and charges at you, too fast for you to get out of the way. You get knocked around a bit for calling it rude names. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span><i>Pow!</i></span></div></div>' "fightingwyverntogether">><<set $health -= $wyvernstrength>><</link>></center> <</if>>

You have only seconds to think of a spell before the wyvern is upon you. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if (($specialization is "battle") and ($magic gte 60)) or (($magic gte 65) and ($astral gte 50))>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Form a shield to defend yourself.</div>' 'autogenerated_686019'>><<setastral +2>><<set $wyvernstrength -= 10>><</link>><</if>> <<if (($specialization is not "battle") or ($magic lt 60)) and (($magic lt 65 or $astral lt 50))>><div class="inactive-item">Form a shield to defend yourself.</div><</if>> <<if ((($specialization is "battle" and $magic gte 65)) or (($astral gte 55) and ($magic gte 69)))>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Create a gravity well to pummel the wyvern. </div>' 'autogenerated_686020'>><<setastral +2>><<set $wyvernhealth -= $mcstrength>><</link>><</if>> <<if ((($specialization is not "battle" or $magic lt 65)) and (($astral lt 55) or ($magic lt 69)))>><div class="inactive-item">Create a gravity well to pummel the wyvern. </div><</if>> <<if (($specialization is "battle") and ($magic gte 60) and ($strength gte 55) and ($astral gte 40)) or (($strength gte 68) and ($astral gte 65) and ($magic gte 68))>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Send a superpowered punch its way.</div>' 'autogenerated_686021'>><<setastral +2>><<set $wyvernhealth -= $mcstrength>><<set $wyvernstrength -= 5>><</link>><</if>> <<if (($specialization is not "battle" or $magic lt 60) or ($strength lt 55) or ($astral lt 40)) and (($strength lt 68) or ($astral lt 65) or ($magic lt 68))>><div class="inactive-item">Send a superpowered punch its way. </div><</if>> <<if (($specialization is "wild") and ($magic gte 60)) or (($magic gte 65) and ($psionic gte 50))>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Use your wild magic to bring a hawk down to harry the wyvern. </div>' 'autogenerated_686022'>><<setpsionic +2>><<set $wyvernstrength -= 10>><<set $wyvernhealth -=5>><</link>><</if>> <<if (($specialization is not "wild") or ($magic lt 60)) and (($magic lt 65) or ($psionic lt 50))>><div class="inactive-item">Use your wild magic to bring a hawk down to harry the wyvern.</div><</if>> <<if (($specialization is "wild") and ($magic gte 65)) or (($magic gte 68) and ($psionic gte 55))>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Use your wild magic to confuse and tame the wyvern's attacks. </div>' 'autogenerated_686023'>><<setpsionic +2>><<set $wyvernstrength -= 10>><</link>><</if>> <<if (($specialization is not "wild") or ($magic lt 65)) and (($magic lt 68) or ($psionic lt 55))>><div class="inactive-item">Use your wild magic to confuse and tame the wyvern's attacks. </div><</if>> <<if (($specialization is "diviner") and ($magic gte 60)) or (($magic gte 65) and ($psionic gte 60))>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Use your divining magic to predict the wyvern's next move. </div>' 'autogenerated_686024'>><<setpsionic +2>><<set $wyvernstrength -= 5>><</link>><</if>> <<if (($specialization is not "diviner") or ($magic lt 60)) and (($magic lt 65) or ($psionic lt 60))>><div class="inactive-item">Use your divining magic to predict the wyvern's next move.</div><</if>> <<if (($specialization is "healer") and ($magic gte 60)) or (($magic gte 65) and ($astral gte 60))>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Heal your wounds while you can. </div>' 'healfromwyvern'>><<setastral +1>><</link>><</if>> <<if (($specialization is not "healer") or ($magic lt 60)) and (($magic lt 65) or ($astral lt 60))>><div class="inactive-item">Heal your wounds while you can. </div><</if>> <<if (($specialization is "elementalist") and ($magic gte 50)) or (($magic gte 55) and ($astral gte 50))>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Whip sand into the wyvern's eyes.</div>' 'autogenerated_686025'>><<setastral +1>><<set $wyvernhealth -= 5>><<set $wyvernstrength -= 5>><</link>><</if>> <<if (($specialization is not "elementalist") or ($magic lt 50)) and (($magic lt 55) or ($astral lt 50))>><div class="inactive-item">Whip sand into the wyvern's eyes.</div><</if>> <<if (($specialization is "elementalist") and ($magic gte 65)) or (($specialization is "battle") and ($magic gte 65)) or (($astral gte 65) and ($magic gte 70))>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Send a bolt of lightning at the wyvern.</div>' 'autogenerated_686026'>><<setastral +2>><<set $wyvernhealth -= $mcstrength>><</link>><</if>> <<if (($specialization is not "elementalist") or ($magic lt 65)) and (($specialization is not "battle") or ($magic lt 65)) and (($astral lt 65) or ($magic lt 70))>><div class="inactive-item">Send a bolt of lightning at the wyvern. </div><</if>> <<if (($specialization is "enchanter") and ($magic gte 55)) or (($magic gte 60) and ($psionic gte 50))>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Use an enchantment to blind the wyvern. </div>' 'autogenerated_686027'>><<setpsionic +2>><<set $wyvernstrength -= 10>><</link>><</if>> <<if (($specialization is not "enchanter") or ($magic lt 55)) and (($magic lt 60) or ($psionic lt 50))>><div class="inactive-item">Use an enchantment to blind the wyvern.</div><</if>> <<if (($specialization is "enchanter") and ($magic gte 60)) or (($magic gte 65) and ($psionic gte 55))>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Use an enchantment to paralyze the wyvern.</div>' 'autogenerated_686028'>><<setpsionic +2>><<set $wyvernhealth -= $mcstrength>><<set $wyvernstrength -= 5>><</link>><</if>> <<if (($specialization is not "enchanter") or ($magic lt 60)) and (($magic lt 65) or ($psionic lt 55))>><div class="inactive-item">Use an enchantment to paralyze the wyvern. </div><</if>> <<if ((($specialization is "binder") and ($magic gte 50)) or (($magic gte 55) and ($arcane gte 50))) and ($haveweapon is true)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Activate the elemental spell you bound into your weapon. </div>' 'autogenerated_686029'>><<setarcane +2>><<set $mcstrength += 10>><</link>><</if>> <<if ((($specialization is not "binder") or ($magic lt 50)) and (($magic lt 55) or ($arcane lt 50)))or ($haveweapon is false)>><div class="inactive-item">Activate the elemental spell you bound into your weapon. </div><</if>> <<if (($specialization is "binder") and ($magic gte 60)) or (($magic gte 65) and ($arcane gte 55))>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Scatter magic-laced traps over the ground to sabotage the wyvern when it charges.</div>' 'autogenerated_686030'>><<setarcane +3>><<set $wyvernstrength -= 10>><<set $wyvernhealth -= $mcstrength>><</link>><</if>> <<if (($specialization is not "binder") or ($magic lt 60)) and (($magic lt 65) or ($arcane lt 55))>><div class="inactive-item">Scatter magic-laced traps over the ground to sabotage the wyvern when it charges.</div><</if>> <<if (($specialization is "shifter") and ($magic gte 60)) or (($magic gte 65) and ($arcane gte 50))>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Shift your physique to develop razor-sharp spikes over your body.</div>' 'autogenerated_686031'>><<set $mcstrength += 5>><<set $wyvernstrength -= 5>><<set $wyvernhealth -= 10>><<setarcane +2>><</link>><</if>> <<if (($specialization is not "shifter") or ($magic lt 60)) and (($magic lt 65) or ($arcane lt 50))>><div class="inactive-item">Shift your physique to develop razor-sharp spikes over your body.</div><</if>> <<if (($specialization is "conjurer") and ($magic gte 60)) or (($magic gte 65) and ($arcane gte 50))>><<link '<div class="choice-item"> Conjure a row of spearpoints for the wyvern to trample over. </div>' 'autogenerated_686032'>><<setarcane +2>><<set $wyvernhealth -= $mcstrength>><</link>><</if>> <<if (($specialization is not "conjurer") and ($magic lt 60)) and (($magic lt 65) or ($arcane lt 50))>><div class="inactive-item"> Conjure a row of spearpoints for the wyvern to trample over. </div><</if>> <<if (($specialization is "conjurer") and ($magic gte 65)) or (($magic gte 68) and ($arcane gte 55))>><<link '<div class="choice-item"> Teleport through the wyvern, tearing out pieces of its softer insides as you phase through its flesh. </div>' 'autogenerated_686033'>><<setarcane +2>><<set $wyvernhealth -= $mcstrength>><<set $wyvernstrength -= 10>><</link>><</if>> <<if (($specialization is not "conjurer") or ($magic lt 65)) and (($magic lt 68) or ($arcane lt 55))>><div class="inactive-item"> Teleport through the wyvern, tearing out pieces of its softer insides as you phase through its flesh. </div><</if>> <<if (($specialization is "conjurer") and ($magic gte 65)) or (($magic gte 70) and ($arcane gte 65))>><<link '<div class="choice-item"> Summon a spirit of fire to fight alongside you. </div>' 'spiritfightwyvern'>><<set $wyvernhealth -= $mcstrength>><<set $wyvernstrength -= 5>><</link>><</if>> <<if (($specialization is not "conjurer") or ($magic lt 65)) and (($magic lt 70) or ($arcane lt 65))>><div class="inactive-item"> Summon a spirit of fire to fight alongside you. </div><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item"> You draw a blank on what spell to use. </div>' 'autogenerated_686034'>><<setintelligence -2>><<set $health -= 5>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

You let a near-invisible barrier bloom in the air in front of you. It won't defelect the wyvern's blows entirely or shield you from all harm, but it should protect you and soften its attacks considerably. <<include 'fightingwyverntogether'>>

You focus your energies into a compact telekinetic blast, dragging the wyvern towards the centerpoint of the well and pummeling it with tremendous force. The wyvern gives a low scream of fear and pain. <<include 'fightingwyverntogether'>>

Briony's not the only one who can punch. You kick off, leaping high into the air and directing all your enhanced, magical power into your fist. You slam it into the wyvern's jaw in a fierce uppercut, and some of its teeth go flying. <<nobr>><<if $stupid or $intelligence lt 40>> <br><br> Ironfang? More like... Nofang! <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'fightingwyverntogether'>>

You reach out with your mind and find it—a pinprick of bright life and awareness, circling in the sky far above you. A red-tailed hawk! In an instant you reach out and seize it within your mind, infusing it with your will, shifting its brain towards you, flinging images and feelings at it. <i>Help me. Hurt the wyvern</i>! You speed down with the hawk as it arrows down from the sky, screeching. It attacks the wyvern's eyes, and the monster screams in fury, snapping and biting at the bird as it rends and slashes ferociously with its beak and talons. The hawk darts out of reach, and in that instant, its instincts to survive, to flee, override your own control, and it breaks loose, flying away in a panic and rejoining the birds above. Still, it left the wyvern bleeding—it looks blind in one eye. <<include 'fightingwyverntogether'>>

You've used your magic on wild and domesticated animals, not Tainted monsters with Endarkened blood running through their veins. True to form, the mind that you reach out to is alien and slick, refusing to be held in your grasp for long… You sigh. You can't control it or speak to it, not the way you can with birds or dogs, but you can at least scramble its thinking enough to make its attacks hurt much less. <<include 'fightingwyverntogether'>>

You blur your eyes slightly, trying to open your mind to the paths of time all around you. You start to see a kind of double-vision, a faint image of the wyvern just a second or so ahead of it in reality, like the streak of light that stays in your eyesight when you look away too quickly from a source of bright light. It won't protect you from its attacks entirely, but at least you can move enough to soften and deflect the coming blows. The wyvern snaps its jaws at you, and you're a step ahead of it already, dodging out of the way with preternatural grace. <<include 'fightingwyverntogether'>>

You kick up a gust of wind that whips grit, dirt, and sand straight into the wyvern's eyes, momentarily blinding it. It howls and thrashes in the dust, trying to scrape at its eyes with its clawed foot and wounding itself as it screams. <<include 'fightingwyverntogether'>>

You conjure a crackling ball of lightning between your hands, compressing and shaping it the way you would a ball of staticky yarn, massaging the light and fire into just the right kind of projectile. Then you unleash it at the wyvern, striking it in the side with the force of a cannonball gutting a ship. The wyvern stumbles, bleeding and making a broken, keening sound of pain. <<include 'fightingwyverntogether'>>

You lash out with a ferocious psionic wave, striking the wyvern's mind in such a way that it renders it half-blind. It screams, confused, as it blunders around on its two clumsy legs. It can still track you by scent and sound, but at least you've taken the teeth out of its attacks. <<include 'fightingwyverntogether'>>

You reach out and catch the wyvern's mind with your own, locking it in a paralytic embrace the way a spider does to a fly caught in its web. It thrashes angrily against your hold, writhing and struggling in one place, but it can't move when Briony comes in for a powerful frontal attack. The wyvern stumbles, momentarily released from your spell, but you notice its movements are now more stiff and ungainly, as if it's been ejected with its own venom. Your magic is still keeping a small hold on its mind, locking up its joints the way rust might with a machine. <<include 'fightingwyverntogether'>>

You bound enchantments into your $mainweapon for this very purpose. You speak a word and your <<nobr>> <<if $mainweapon is "dagger" or $mainweapon is "sword">> blade erupts with crackling energy. Now it's flashy <i>and</i> deadly. <<else>> $mainweapon glows with fiery runes. Now whatever projectiles you fire will explode on impact, causing much more damage. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'fightingwyverntogether'>>

You slap various pre-made runes and traps over the ground: some binding, some sticky and slowing, others downright explosive. Briony has some difficulty dancing out of the way of them, but the traps don't activate when you run over them: that makes you the perfect bait to lead the wyvern on a merry chase around the arena. It bumbles into one spell that closes over its legs like strands of a spider's web; another snaps over its ankles like a bear trap. Another unleashes a plume of eye-stinging smoke, and yet another creates a minor explosion that engulfs the wyvern in fiery white light. It screams in pain, confused, aimless, thrashing in agony. <<include 'fightingwyverntogether'>>

You concentrate, feeling your skin crackle and shift as you grow sharp defensive spikes all over your body: along your arms and shoulders, across your back. It's a little grotesque—you borrowed from the quills of a porcupine, the cutting skin of a shark, and the jagged shape of rocks polished to points at the bottom of caves—and the audience screams with horror, but the next time the wyvern bats its tail towards you, you wound it right back. The wyvern screams, the sound laced with fear and terror. <<include 'fightingwyverntogether'>>

You'd made sure to memorize the location and contents of a forgotten weapons rack in one of the training courtyards of the arena. You summon it now, the spears glittering sharp and deadly and upright in the sun, and conjure it directly beneath the wyvern's feet. It pierces its own legs, heedless of what's going on, and screams. <<include 'fightingwyverntogether'>>

It's gruesome, bloody work, but turning yourself semi-transparent and teleporting instantaneously across the arena, keeping the wyvern in your direct line of travel, is a shockingly effective strategy. You tear through it the way diving birds tear through swarming schools of fish, taking out little chunks of reptilian flesh as you go. Your clothes don't even get that spattered, because you're only half-materialized on this plane. You have to be careful, though, or you'll dissipate into a cloud of nothing if you don't keep a tight hold on your molecules. The wyvern screams, unsure of what's actually going on as it springs fountains of blood all over its body. <<include 'fightingwyverntogether'>>

The wyvern charges at you, and you lose your train of thought as you desperately throw yourself out of the way. <<include 'fightingwyverntogether'>>

<<set $spiritname to "">>You concentrate, parsing through the depths of your memory banks for a spirit of the right nature and power for this. You won't be able to hold it in place for long, not without prepared rune circles and sigils, but you can at least summon it and control it long enough to unleash one devastating, explosive attack. <<nobr>><<cycle "$spiritname" autoselect>> <<option "Bartimaeus!">> <<option "Angarat!">> <<option "Uzael!">> <<option "Ramachni!">> <</cycle>><</nobr>> <<page_break "Next" "spiritfightwyvern2">>

It takes a moment, but finally your spirit pops into existence: first an ember, hovering in the air, barely visible—and then growing rapidly in size like a spreading wildfire, erupting into existence just as the wyvern stampedes past it. The spirit doesn't hesitate to get its bearings—it charges after the wyvern and tackles it, erupting into blazing <<nobr>> <<if $spiritname is "Bartimaeus">> blue flame. <<elseif $spiritname is "Angarat">> purple flame. <<elseif $spiritname is "Uzael">> black flame. <<else>> green flame. <</if>><</nobr>> The wyvern cries out with pain as otherworldly fire eats into it. The spirit dissipates rapidly without an anchor, but it did its work. The wyvern's side is burnt raw and bloody, spurting vast founts of acidic blood. <i>Thanks, $spiritname. </i> <<include "fightingwyverntogether">>

You focus on knitting your wounds back together and boosting your strength and energy, feeling the golden tide of warm magic well up within you. <<nobr>> <<if $strength gte 65>> <br><br> The wyvern tries to take advantage of your distraction by aiming a few lashing bites your way, but you're able to dodge and weave with the best of them. The wyvern seems to scowl in frustration. <<else>> <br><br> <<set $health -= $wyvernstrength>> The wyvern takes advantage of your distraction by slamming its tail into the ground to your right, knocking you off your feet. At least you managed to get some healing in, even if you were immediately injured again. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "fightingwyverntogether">> /* :: fightwyverntogetherend <<page_break "Next" "fightwyverntogetherend2">> */

<<if $wyvernhealth gt $health or $health lt 10>> <<set $wyvernoutcome to "lost">> <<set $gladiatortitle to "Stoneskin">> <<set $reputation -=5 >> And then… your vision blacks out. <br><br> <i>Shit</i>, you think, disorientated; you must have hit your head harder than you thought. You shake it desperately, blinking and trying to recover your senses, and when your vision clears, the wyvern is standing right in front of you. Its visage fills your view like a demon's mask, long and snakelike and dreadful. <br><br> Then it opens its mouth and breathes on you. Its breath is cold and numbing, and it smells strangely of acid, and then rock and salt, like boulders heating in the sun after being uncovered by receding waves. <br><br> And then you're blind again, and the world abruptly ends in a curtain of black. <br><br> <<page_break "..." "blackoutwyvern">> <<elseif (($health gte $wyvernhealth) or ($wyvernhealth lte 0))>> <<set $wyvernoutcome to "won">> <<set $gladiatortitle to "Dragonslayer">> <<setreputation +5>> And then… it falters. <br><br> You look, and you see that you've actually managed to wound the beast badly enough for it to stumble and weave, panting raggedly and in great gouts of hot, desperate breath. Its tail lashes, but the wyvern seems to have lost its strength… for the moment. However, the way its yellow eyes glare at you tell you that it's still dangerous. Still capable of ripping your head off if you get too close and make the wrong move. <br><br> You glance at Briony, but she's across the arena and you're closer to the wyvern… so you decide it's your job to deliver the finishing blow. <br><br> You run at the wyvern, kicking off the ground with one last desperate burst of strength and energy. The wyvern opens its enormous, many-toothed maw to greet you… <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if ($haveweapon is true) and ($mainweapon is "bow")>><<link '<div class="choice-item">...and you fire your arrow straight into its gaping mouth.</div>' 'autogenerated_686035'>><</link>><</if>> <<if (($haveweapon is true) and ($mainweapon is "sword"))>><<link '<div class="choice-item">...and you drive your blade up through its jaw.</div>' 'autogenerated_686036'>><</link>><</if>> <<if (($haveweapon is true) and ($mainweapon is "dagger"))>><<link '<div class="choice-item">and you drive your dagger down through its skull. </div>' 'autogenerated_686037'>><</link>><</if>> <<if (($haveweapon is true) and ($mainweapon is "gun"))>><<link '<div class="choice-item">...and you fire your bullet straight down its throat. </div>' 'autogenerated_686038'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">...and you send a gout of magical flame right into its face.</div>' 'autogenerated_686039'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">...and you drive a sliver of rock deep into its eye.</div>' 'autogenerated_686040'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <</if>>

It's an almost miraculous shot: you're halfway twisting into the air, the wyvern is diving towards you… but for an instant, none of that matters. There's just you and your target. You fire, and the arrow goes speeding down the wyvern's mouth, lodging in the back of its throat and silencing its roars. You see the sunlight through its head—and then the monster falls, its eyes dull and empty. It strikes the ground with the weight and sound of a great tree falling. <<include 'wyvernvictory'>>

You duck under the wyvern's snout just as it attempts to snap you up in its jaws, driving your sword up and through its chin. Your blade pierces the roof of its mouth, wiring its jaw shut… and then you stab into its brain. The creature collapses instantly and sags to the ground, twitching and thrashing as its nerves fire in one last morbid display. Dust rains all around you. Green, acrid blood splatters the front of your shirt. <<include 'wyvernvictory'>>

You twist up, narrowly avoiding flying into the wyvern's mouth and instead tumbling sidelong across its snout. You use your momentum to drive you blade down into its skull, piercing its brain… and then it spasms, flinging you off as it falls down to the ground with the weight of a crumbling mountain. <<include 'wyvernvictory'>>

It's an almost miraculous shot: you're halfway twisting into the air, the wyvern is diving towards you… but for an instant, none of that matters. There's just you and your target. You fire, and the bullet goes speeding down the wyvern's mouth and explodes out the back of its throat in a gruesome shower of blood and flame. You see the sunlight through its head—and then the monster falls, its eyes dull and empty. <<include 'wyvernvictory'>>

You gather up all of your magical energy and fling it in the wyvern's face, the blast of flame rushing down its throat like a reverse vacuum. The wyvern gapes, as if somehow opening its maw further will let the fire out—and then the burst meets its acidic stomach and there's a miniature sonic <i>whoof</i>. Fire and smoke and blood and guts come showering down on you in a grisly storm. The wyvern crashes down to the ground like a fallen tree, inert and deathly still. Its yellow eyes are blank and empty. <<include 'wyvernvictory'>>

It's a good thing the wyvern created so much rubble and destruction around the arena; it gave you the perfect opportunity to grab a sharp wedge of rock to use as a weapon. You use it like a knife, plunging your arm elbow-deep into the wyvern's eye and piercing its brain. It dies instantly, acidic green blood gushing over your forearm as its lifeless body crashes to the ground. You're thrown off by the corpse's twitching and thrashing, all the Tainted's nerve endings firing in one last post-mortum display… And then it crumples to the ground and goes still. The great belly sinks in like a bellows whose fire has suddenly gone out. <<include 'wyvernvictory'>>

<<nobr>><<if settings.music is true>><<audio ":playing" fadeoverto 5 0>><</if>><</nobr>>Silence reigns in the arena. <center><<linkappend "And then…" t8n>> <p style="text-align:right">Finally, the wyvern dies.</p> <<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span><i>"Dragonslayer! Dragonslayer!"</i></span></div></div>' "wyvernvictory2">><</link>><</linkappend>></center>

<<achieve "achieve_beatwyvern">><<notify_achievement "Dragonslayer" "Killed a wyvern in gladiator combat.">>The crowd erupts into a fury of calls and cheers, surging to their feet as they chant the new name. You look around as Briony runs up to you, holding her dripping sword and grinning foolishly. She throws her arms around your neck, the red ribbon in her hair fluttering in the sudden breeze. "You did it, $falsename, you did it!" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Yeah... I guess I did."</div>' 'dragonslayermc'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Are they calling <i>me</i> Dragonslayer?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686041'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"<i>We</i> did it."</div>' 'autogenerated_686042'>><<setbriony +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"It's not a dragon, it's a wyvern," you say. "Big difference." Briony rolls her eyes and punches your shoulder lightly, but she's grinning. "Now's not the time to quibble over semantics, $falsename. At least they're not calling you Shiteater or something like that!" "There's a gladiator here named Shiteater?" "...Unfortunately." <<include 'dragonslayermc'>>

She beams, her smile brilliant even through the soot and dirt smudged all over her face. "Yeah... we did." <<include 'dragonslayermc'>>

"<i>Dragonslayer! Stormbreaker!</i>" Tovrik comes up, his eyes guarded and his expression unreadable. He looks neither surprised nor pleased that you did so well; but he also doesn't seem angry or disappointed. He's just… neutral. "Well done, warriors," he says, though his voice is no longer amplified. "You've defeated Ironfang. I'd complain about how expensive he was to capture, but you made up for it—look at all the bets you've made good on." He's right: people are throwing down gold coins into the arena, along with flowers and scraps of ribbons. Does that mean they're happy they bet on you? He shakes his head. "Time for the next fight. You go and get cleaned up. The Sponsor's asked to see you after the day's bouts are over." "Both of us?" Briony asks. Tovrik nods. "He asked to dine with Stormbreaker, our reigning champion, and…" He glances at you. "Dragonslayer, our newest and most promising fighter. Go to your rooms, and someone will fetch you when he's ready." <<page_break "..." "dinnerarena">>

<<nobr>><<if settings.music is true>><<audio ":playing" stop>><</if>><</nobr>><span class="next">[[Next|blackoutwyvern2]]</span></div></center> <<timed 1s>><<goto "blackoutwyvern2">><</timed>>

<center><div class="dot"> <<timed 1s t8n>> ... <<next>>... <<next>>... <</timed>><span class="next">[[Next|dinnerarena]]</span></div></center> <<timed 5s>><<goto "dinnerarena">><</timed>>

<<nobr>><<if settings.music is true>><<audio ":playing" stop>><</if>><<set $health to 100>> <<if $wyvernoutcome is "lost">> "…Excuse me? <<c gladiatortitle>>? Are you awake?" <br><br> You snap awake, sitting up abruptly and whipping your head around. A wide-eyed young man draws back, startled, as you take in the disorientating darkness around you. <br><br> "Where am I? What's happened?" <br><br> The young man coughs slightly, looking embarrassed. You notice for the first time that he's wearing servant's clothing—and that you're lying in your bed in your room underneath the arena. "Er… you were turned to stone," he begins. "…Briefly. No more than a few hours." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '...' 'dotdotdinner'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I was <i>what</i>?!"' 'iwaswhatdinneroption'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Ha ha, now pull the other one."' 'hahanowpull'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Where\'s Briony?"' 'wheresbrionydinneroption'>><</link>></li> </ul> <<elseif $wyvernoutcome is "won">> You barely feel like you have any time to rest and recover after that. You're ushered out of the arena, away from the thunderous cheers of the crowd—though they echo in your ears for a long time after—and are seen to by a bevy of Healers and business-like attendants. Then you're practically chucked into the bathhouse, with Briony being whisked away from you—"I'll see you as soon as I can!" she shouts— and then you're forced into your room and given a hot meal to eat. You barely even register what the food is, with all the thunder and noise going on above you: from what you can piece together, the next fight is between a trio including Staghead and four opponents in some sort of free-for-all. <br><br> You're trying to listen for more details, contemplating how you're going to pass on your next message to Red, Halek, and Ayla; but then you find your head falling down sideways onto your pillow, and shortly thereafter, consciousness receding from you in a long dark wave. <br><br> <<page_break "Did They Put Something In Your Food?" "didtheyputsomethinginyourfoodgladiator">> <<elseif $brionyoutcome is "lost">> "…Excuse me? <<c gladiatortitle>>? Are you awake?" <br><br> You snap awake, sitting up abruptly and whipping your head around. A wide-eyed young man draws back, startled, as you take in the disorientating darkness around you. <br><br> "Where am I? What's happened?" <br><br> The young man looks sheepish. You notice for the first time that he's dressed in servant's clothes. "You lost your bout with Briony Stormbreaker," he says, his voice gentle. "She knocked you clean out. We carried you here to recover, and the Healers saw to you, and normally we'd allow you to rest more… but it's time for dinner, and the Sponsor has summoned you to his private suite." <br><br> You stare. "The Sponsor wants to see me? After I lost?" <br><br> The young man blushes. "Ah—maybe I've miscommunicated. I should say… he has invited Briony Stormbreaker to dine with him. And he has ordered that you accompany her… as her personal attendant. Um. As is tradition, when one warrior has lost an important match to another. It… amuses the Sponsor, to see a defeated opponent serving their defeater." <br><br> A roil of humiliation and anger flares up in your stomach. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'You master yourself. No matter how embarrassing, it\'s still your chance to see the Sponsor.' 'youmasteryourselfnomatterhowembarassing'>><<setloyal +5>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Tell him I\'m not going." Mission or no, you\'re no one\'s servant.' 'tellhiminnotgoingmissionorno'>><<setloyal -5>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"What\'s Briony have to say about that?"' 'whatsbrionyhavetosayabouthat'>><</link>></li> </ul> <<else>> You barely feel like you have any time to rest and recover after that. You're ushered out of the arena, away from the thunderous cheers of the crowd—though they echo in your ears for a long time after—and are seen to by a bevy of Healers and business-like attendants. Then you're practically chucked into the bathhouse, with Briony being whisked away from you: <<nobr>><<if $natheoutcome is "killed">> the look of loathing she sends you will stay with you for a long time, you think. <<else>> the look of dislike, anger, and begrudging respect she shoots you over her shoulder will stay with you for a long time, you think. <</if>><</nobr>> <br><br> And then you're forced into your room and given a hot meal to eat. You barely even register what the food is, with all the thunder and noise going on above you: from what you can piece together, the next fight is between a trio including Staghead and three others in some sort of free-for-all. <br><br> You're trying to listen for more details, contemplating how you're going to pass on your next message to Red, Halek, and Ayla; but then you find your head falling down sideways onto your pillow, and shortly thereafter, consciousness receding from you in a dark quiet wave. <br><br> <<page_break "Did They Put Something In Your Food?" "foodissomethingtheyputin">> <</if>><</nobr>>

He shifts under your blank stare. <<include "stonewyverns">>

He flinches as you feel your face frantically, then your legs and arms. Everything <i>seems</i> normal… certainly not as if your skin was recently like a statue's. But the young man does not seem to be joking around. <<include "stonewyverns">>

His smooth brow furrows. "Er… I'm not joking." "So you're saying I was, what, a statue until recently?" <<include "stonewyverns">>

"She's fine," the young man says quickly. "She's recovering in her rooms at the moment: she was very worried about you and kept looking in." He pauses. "I think she was worried that you'd died." "And I… didn't?" He shakes his head. <<include "stonewyverns">>

"That's what wyverns do," the young man says. "Their breath turns people to stone—although, thankfully, it's a temporary effect. Most of the time. The only reason you weren't summarily smashed was because Lady Stormbreaker intercepted the wyvern at the last moment and killed it before it could harm you further. It was… quite dramatic. Tovrik was pleased because it was such a good show for the crowd. She got in the way of that wyvern swooping down on you, caught it by its tail just as it came smashing down, and then… <i>threw</i> it." He blushes like he's telling some tawdry story. "She was able to kill it on her own, and now reigns as champion supreme. And of course, she protected you." You stare at him. So first you lost to Nathe, and now to the bloody wyvern. There's no way that Sponsor will have anything to do with you, now. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Are there any side effects that come from... turning to stone?"' 'aretheresideeffectsturningstone'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"So, what, you carried me here and just waited for me to turn back?"' 'sowhatyoucarriedherewaitedback'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I could have gotten that wyvern, if I\'d just had a few more minutes."' 'icouldgottenwyvernminutes'>><</link>></li> </ul>

The servant shrugs lightly. "I'm not a Healer or a physicker, so I'm not sure," he says. "But we've had other people in the arena go through this, and they were no worse for the wear afterwards. We've only had one person never turn back. I believe they auctioned him off as a statue." Well, <i>that's</i> a charming thought. <<include "stonewyvernsi">>

The servant shrugs lightly. "We've had wyvern victims in the arena before: the Healers knew what to do. We made you comfortable, and you don't seem to be experiencing any adverse effects. You did make a handsome statue, though. Some people offered to buy you, but Tovrik refused." Well, <i>that's</i> a charming thought. <<include "stonewyvernsi">>

"Mm-hmm," the young man says. "I'm sure." <<include "stonewyvernsi">>

He fidgets with his over-tight collar. "Anyway, the Sponsor has invited you to his private suite for dinner…" You blink at him. "Who, me? Even though I lost both fights?" The young man scratches his nose next. "Well, the Stormbreaker asked for you to accompany her," he says. "She asked for a special boon, seeing how she is the undefeated champion of the arena. It looked like they were initially going to refuse, but she threatened to stay put in her room, spellmarks or no, so the Sponsor agreed. She's stubborn as a bull, that one." You blow out a breath of relief. At least now you know you can count on Briony to keep her word. The servant steps to the door. "You can bathe in the hot springs… but I'd suggest moving quickly, because no one keeps the Sponsor waiting. Good luck." <<include "brionywaits">>

You nod in assent, and the young man's expression relaxes; he's clearly relieved. "Thank you," he says. <<include "illtakeyouhotsprings">>

The young man stares. "I'm sorry," he says slowly, "but the Sponsor wills it. If you don't…" He trails off meaningfully. "They may use the spellmarks on you. And that is not a pleasant time. Far less pleasant than a nice dinner." …Damn it, he's got you there. After a moment's thought, you grunt in assent, and the young man relaxes slightly. "Thank you," he says. <<include "illtakeyouhotsprings">>

The young man shrugs helplessly. "She has not been informed. Master Tovrik thought it fit not to tell her." Well, that figures. You wonder if Briony could still be angry at you, now that she's had the chance to knock your lights out. <<nobr>><<if $natheoutcome is "killed">> Then again, you did kill her closest friend in cold blood, so… yes, she probably still hates you. <<else>> But you did sentence her friend to almost-certain death, so… yes, she probably still hates you. <</if>><</nobr>> The young man takes your silence for assent, and he nods gratefully. "Thank you," he says. <<include "illtakeyouhotsprings">>

"I'll take you to the hot springs, and you can get ready." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "illtakeyouhotspringsi">><</link>></center>

Afterwards. the young man looks pointedly at your drab clothes. "Would you… like to use some of your earnings?" he probes. "To buy something… nice to wear?" He shifts. "We have an outfitter on-site: usually he outfits the gladiators in armor, protective gear they can buy with their pay, but he can make very nice casual outfits, too. Some warriors like to spend their earnings that way—looking nice, dressing up." <<include "buyclothes">>

Or are you just exhausted, right past your bones and down to your very soul? <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "snapeyesopenwideeyeddarkness">><</link>></center>

"…Excuse me? <<c gladiatortitle>>? Are you awake?" You snap your eyes open, sitting up abruptly and whipping your head around. A wide-eyed young man draws back, startled, as you take in the disorientating darkness around you. "Where am I? What's happened?" The young man looks sheepish. You notice for the first time that he's dressed in servant's clothes, and that you're still in your room beneath the arena. "The day's bouts are over," he tells you. "The Sponsor has summoned you for dinner in his private suite." You run a hand through your hair. Right, of course. The Sponsor. The young man smiles at you gently. "Everyone's talking about you," he says in a hushed voice. "How you beat the Stormbreaker—and she's had over a hundred matches without being defeated-–without even breaking a sweat! Most Tyros are so scared their first few matches, they get clobbered, but you…" He trails off admiringly. "You just cut through both of them like wheat. Incredible." Then he shakes his head. "The Sponsor asked to see Briony Stormbreaker for dinner—she <i>was</i> the reigning champion, after all—so it's no surprise she's still invited. But no one was expecting you to be, too. You've really given them all a run for their money." He tilts his head suddenly at you. "Speaking of money, would you like to buy something?" Your brain feels sluggish and warm still from sleep. "Buy something?" He glances pointedly at your drab clothes: a fresh set following your fight with Briony, but still plain and dull-colored. "Something from the commissary, perhaps? We have an outfitter who can give the gladiators new things to wear, when they want them. Some like to feel pretty, and sharp-looking, especially down here… so that's what he's here for. So long as you can pay for his services." <<include "buyclothes">>

Or are you just exhausted, right past your bones and down to your soul? <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "excusemegladiatortitle">><</link>></center>

The servant nods. "Very well, then. When you're ready, you can go to the servants at the end of the hall: they're prepared to take you to the Sponsor's dinner party." <<include "brionywaits">>

<<nobr>><<set $winnings to 0>> <<if $wyvernoutcome is "lost">> <<set $winnings to 0>> <<elseif $wyvernoutcome is "won">> <<set $winnings to 1>> <<elseif $brionyoutcome is "lost">> <<set $winnings to 1>> <<else>> <<set $winnings to 2>> <</if>> <<set $formalwearhave2 to true>><</nobr>>The servant bows his head. "Very good," he says. "I'll send him in right away." The outfitter, it turns out, is an enormous, scarred man with a beard all the way down to his waist: he has the hands of a blacksmith or a butcher, not a tailor, but the rack that he grimly wheels out to you—like an executioner toting out his guillotine—is fully bedecked with the latest fashions. How interesting. You suppose they must have an array of distractions down here to keep the gladiators in good spirits and calm enough not to incite riots and revolts. Once you get out of here, your "winnings" are not going to matter much, anyway, so you decide there's not much point to hoarding them. You pick out… <ul class="choices"> <<if $winnings gte 0>><<link '<div class="choice-item">The pale green short dress.</div>' 'buyclothes2i'>><<set $formalwear2 to "a mint-green short dress">><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">The pale-green short dress.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $winnings gte 0>><<link '<div class="choice-item">The dark red tunic and trim trousers.</div>' 'buyclothes2i'>><<set $formalwear2 to "a dark red tunic and trousers">><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">The dark red tunic and trim trousers.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $winnings gte 0>><<link '<div class="choice-item">The dark purple vest and white blouse with ruffled sleeves.</div>' 'buyclothes2i'>><<set $formalwear2 to "a dark purple vest and a white blouse with ruffled sleeves">><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">The dark purple vest and white blouse with ruffled sleeves.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $winnings gte 1>><<link '<div class="choice-item">The long, white, flowing gown with a plunging neckline and a slit up the leg.</div>' 'buyclothes2i'>><<set $formalwear2 to "a long, white, flowing gown">><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">The long, white, flowing gown with a plunging neckline and a slit up the leg.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $winnings gte 1>><<link '<div class="choice-item">The gold, stately robe with wide, trailing, elegant sleeves.</div>' 'buyclothes2i'>><<set $formalwear2 to "a gold, stately robe">><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">The gold, stately robe with wide, trailing, elegant sleeves.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $winnings gte 1>><<link '<div class="choice-item">The black military coat with a blood-red pocket square.</div>' 'buyclothes2i'>><<set $formalwear2 to "a black military coat with a red pocket square">><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">The black military coat with a blood-red pocket square.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $winnings is 2>><<link '<div class="choice-item">The gorgeous ballroom dress in silvery-blue, with off-the-shoulder sleeves and pink blossoms at the bodice.</div>' 'buyclothes2i'>><<set $formalwear2 to "a gorgeous, silvery-blue ballroom dress with pink petals">><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">The gorgeous ballroom dress in silvery-blue, with off-the-shoulder sleeves and pink blossoms at the bodice.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $winnings is 2>><<link '<div class="choice-item">The sharp and fashionable dark blue suit with elegant embellishments along the trim.</div>' 'buyclothes2i'>><<set $formalwear2 to "a sharp and fashionable dark blue suit with elegant embellishments">><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">The sharp and fashionable dark blue suit with elegant embellishments along the trim.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $winnings is 2>><<link '<div class="choice-item">The flowing summer vestments in pale sage and yellow with blooming roses along the hem.</div>' 'buyclothes2i'>><<set $formalwear2 to "flowing summer vestments in pale sage and yellow and rose accents">><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">The flowing summer vestments in pale sage and yellow with blooming roses along the hem.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $winnings is 2>><<link '<div class="choice-item">The cloudy pink imperial robes with a lovely flowing train.</div>' 'buyclothes2i'>><<set $formalwear2 to "pale pink imperial robes with a lovely flowing train">><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">The cloudy pink imperial robes with a lovely flowing train.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> </ul>

<<nobr>><<set $clothes to $formalwear2>> <<if $fashion is false>> <<set $fashion to true>> <<notify_codex_culture "Lady Tatler, Issue 42">> <</if>> <<achieve "achieve_slaygurl">><<notify_achievement "If Looks Could Kill" "Earned enough <br> winnings to dress up <br> for your big dinner with the Sponsor.">> <</nobr>> You sort of expect the tailor to at least grumble out some feedback, but he just silently hands you the outfit and wheels his rack away. <<include "brionywaits">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "brionywaitsi">><</link>></center>

Outside your room and at the end of the hallway, you find Briony waiting with a cadre of servants, tapping her foot impatiently and looking off into the distance. <<nobr>><<if $brionyhate is true>> She gives no indication of noticing you at all and turns her head the other way as you approach, radiating chilly anger and silence. She hugs her bare arms hard enough to bruise. <</if>> <<if $wyvernoutcome is "lost">> When she catches sight of you, though, her eyes brighten in relief and she comes rushing towards you, stumbling a little in her heels. <br><br> "Sorry," she says breathlessly, knocking recklessly into you. "Not used to these—how are you? Are you all right?" This close, you can smell her perfumed hair: a warm almond or vanilla scent. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"It\'ll take more than turning to stone to keep me down."' 'itlltakemorethanturningtostone'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"It was so bizarre. One moment I\'m in the arena with you, and the next, I\'m waking up in my room."' 'itwasbizarreinthearena'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Thank you, for what you did. Saving me and making sure I came with you, I mean."' 'thankyouforwhatyoudidbrionysavingsme'>><<setbriony +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'m fine."' 'imfinebrionyafterarena'>><</link>></li> </ul> <<elseif $wyvernoutcome is "won">> When she catches sight of you, though, her eyes brighten in relief and she comes rushing towards you, stumbling a little in her heels. <br><br> "Sorry," she says breathlessly, knocking recklessly into you. "Not used to wearing these. How are you, Dragonslayer? Everyone's talking about how you brought down a wyvern single-handedly." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Well, I didn\'t do it single-handedly. You were there."' 'wellididntdoitsinglehandedlyyou'>><<setbriony +1>><<setloyal +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"What else have they been saying?"' 'whatelsehavetheybeensayingbrionyarena'>><<setloyal -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"That name really doesn\'t make any sense."' 'namedoesntreallymakeanysensebrionyarena'>><</link>></li> </ul> <<elseif $brionyoutcome is "lost">> And when she's finally forced to catch sight of you, her mouth tightens angrily, and she turns her head away again, thoroughly ignoring you. You see her knuckles tighten around her arms until they grow white; something crackles in the air, invisible waves of heat shifting all around you. But she doesn't say a word. <br><br> <<include "brionywaitsii">> <<elseif $brionyoutcome is "won">> And when she's finally forced to catch sight of you, her mouth tightens angrily, but she doesn't look away. She meets your stare steadily, accusingly. Her chin raises, as if for a fight, but she doesn't say a word. <br><br> <<include "brionywaitsii">> <</if>><</nobr>>

She grins. "That's what I like to hear." <<include "brionywaitsii">>

Briony bites her lip, as if she knows she shouldn't say what she's going to say next, but then it tumbles out of her: "What was it like, being—frozen? Did it feel like anything?" You shake your head. "Not really, no. I didn't even realize anything had happened until after I woke up." Briony shakes her head. "It was so surreal. One minute, you're standing there, and the next, you're a statue! I was so worried, I kept wondering how you'd breathe. Then someone said the birds were going to—you know, leave droppings on you—so I had to hover around after the fight, looking at the sky." You can't help but laugh at that, and she laughs too. <<include "brionywaitsii">>

She smiles shyly at you and gives you a gentle slap on the shoulder. "Friends have got to look out for each other, right?" She looks happy as she says it. <<include "brionywaitsii">>

Briony's face falters slightly at your curt tone, but she brushes it off quickly. <<include "brionywaitsii">>

She winks, affecting a cocky posture. "Well, yes, but I'm willing to let you have all the glory this time. I was getting a bit tired of it." Then she catches your expression and lets out a snort of laughter. "Anyway, I'm glad I'm not going into this alone—it feels good to know you're going to be by my side. Big as I talk, I'm a little nervous about meeting this Sponsor." <<include "brionywaitsii">>

She waves her hand. "Mostly about how you'll be the darling of future wagers… and how you should have the wyvern's head mounted on the wall in your room. You can hang hats on it." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Now there\'s an idea..."' 'nowtheresanideabrionyarena'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I don\'t ever want to look at another wyvern again."' 'idonteverwantanotherwyvern'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'m kind of sad I had to kill it. It would have made a good pet."' 'imkindofsadihadtokillit'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Briony hides an unladylike snort of laughter behind her hand. "It's a bad idea. That thing is going to stink to high heaven in a few days." "They preserve it before they mount it on walls, don't they?" "Oh, yeah—I suppose you're right!" <<include "brionywaitsii">>

She smiles briefly, though she looks preoccupied. "It's funny, that was my first time fighting one in the arena, but… something about it felt sort of familiar at the same time. No, I think I'm imagining it." Then she bites her lip and says nothing more. <<include "brionywaitsii">>

Briony snorts in an unladylike way. "Sure, if you like demon-blooded, Tainted pets who want to rip your head off, inject the corpse with venom, and then let it liquefy into a nice soup for later!" Then she blushes at your raised brow. "…Sorry, that was too much." <<include "brionywaitsii">>

She waves her hand. "<i>None</i> of the names around here make sense. I mean, Sunflash, Stormbreaker, Silverstrike, Bloodshadow, Demoncutter, the Undying… Tovrik says it's about the drama, the way it gets people's adrenaline riled up, not logic. Just go with it." <<include "brionywaitsii">>

You look around as the servants begin to lead you away, towards the stairs that will take you up into the main floor of the arena. Briony is dressed in a glittering, midnight-blue knee-length dress that compliments her golden skin; the dress is decorated with tiny gold moons and stars and constellations, and she's wearing slightly-raised, strapped heels. Interestingly, however, her pink hair is still tied in its usual ponytail with the same worn red ribbon… and she still has her large white sword strapped to her back! <<nobr>><<if $brionyhate is true>> <br><br> You don't even think about asking her about it, though. Palpable hatred radiates from her, sizzling like the air after a lightning strike. <<include "sorrybriony">> <<elseif $natheoutcome is "won">> You think about asking her about it, but she just shoots you a grim look before looking away. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Ask her about Nathe.' 'askbrioneaboutnatheafter'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Look away.' 'lookawaybrioneafterarena'>><</link>></li> </ul> <<else>> <<include "brionytalking">> <</if>><</nobr>>

For another moment, Briony doesn't speak, though the air around her tightens and moves with a sudden heat. Then she says, without looking at you: "They didn't gather enough gold to save him. He's in the dungeons now—I went to see him, but he told me I oughtn't waste my chance to see the Sponsor. Still…" Her voice drops. "I expect he'll be gone by morning." "But he's not dead," you reiterate. Briony throws a glare at you. "Not yet." <<include "sorrybriony">>

Silence falls between the two of you, heavy and simmering. <<include "sorrybriony">>

<<nobr>><<if $brionyhate is true>> "Sorry doesn't bring my friend back to life," Briony says without looking at you. Her voice is raw and terrible, as if she'd screamed it hoarse. <<else>> Briony doesn't answer, steadfastly avoiding your gaze, but you think she manages a tiny, ambivalent shrug. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "suite">>

<<nobr>><<if $brionate is true>> "So you thought it was right to kill my friend in cold blood?" Briony asks dully. Her voice is raw and terrible, as if she'd screamed it hoarse. "When I asked you to spare him?" She shakes her head. "Go to Hael, $falsename. Nothing you say could ever make that 'right.'" <<else>> Briony snorts and doesn't look at you, hugging her arms even tighter, as if she's very cold. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "suite">>

<ul class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("areyouallowedtocarryswordsponsor")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"Are you allowed to carry that sword to dinner with the Sponsor?"</div>' 'areyouallowedtocarryswordsponsor'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("youreallylikethatredribbondontyou")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"You really like that red ribbon, don\'t you?"</div>' 'youreallylikethatredribbondontyou'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("wheresnathebrionytalking")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"Where\'s Nathe?"</div>' 'wheresnathebrionytalking'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("whatsyourgameplanforthisdinner")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"What\'s your game plan for this dinner?"</div>' 'whatsyourgameplanforthisdinner'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("thatsaprettydressbrionytalking")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"That\'s a pretty dress."</div>' 'thatsaprettydressbrionytalking'>><<set $brionyromanceflag += 2>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link 'You arrive at the Sponsor\'s suite.' 'suitei'>><</link>></li> </ul>

"Oh, Gonturan?" Briony strokes her sword absently, cocking her head as if listening to something. "I'm not bringing her in; they just let me carry her around through the halls. She likes to stick by my side as much as possible; sometimes, if they try to lock her away, she'll come flying at me, sometimes through walls. They figured it was better to just let me have her as much as possible—saves on property damage and repairing holes—and they know I can't do anything <i>untoward</i> with her, not with the damned spellmark around my neck." But the mischievous, impish wink she gives you implies otherwise. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"\'She?\'"' 'allowedcarryswordsponsor'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You talk about the sword like it\'s a living thing."' 'youtalkswordlikeitslivingthing'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"It <i>flies</i> to you?"' 'itfliestoyouask'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"What\'s the story behind Gonturan? I sense a very strange energy crackling from the blade..."' 'whatsstorybehindgonturanstrange'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Briony cocks her head. "Well, she is," she tells you matter-of-factly. "She's got her own thoughts and will—that's why she won't let anyone pick her up, you know, unless she acknowledges them as her master. You can give it a try, but we've gotten a lot of sprained wrists from others that way, so I'd be careful." <<include "allowedcarryswordsponsor">>

She nods. "Yes, I haven't got a clue if she's <i>supposed</i> to do that, but she gets very irritated when we're apart for very long. She's all right if I leave her in my room and tell her where I'm going, but if someone forcibly takes her away from me or locks her somewhere she's not supposed to be—she's not happy about it, and lets them know." <<include "allowedcarryswordsponsor">>

"Oh, I haven't got a clue," Briony answers contentedly. "Just like I don't know the story behind <i>me</i>. All I remember is waking up on the beach with her clutched in my hand, so we must have come from the same place…" Her expression flickers for a moment, then she seems to rally herself, her shoulders straightening. "So now we're inseparable, I suppose." <<include "allowedcarryswordsponsor">>

She gives you a rueful smile. "She talks to me, you see. Well, it's not quite <i>talking</i>, it's more vague impressions or maybe feelings—but I get a pretty good sense of it, all the same. Sometimes I wish she actually talked, because then I could ask her about where we come from, what I've forgotten—but I think that's too complex for her, or otherwise she just doesn't want to say. It's more like… I can tell when she's angry, or approves of somebody, or feels watchful; she doesn't <i>say</i> it in specific words, but I can just… tell. I feel it." She cocks her head again, listening to the sword's silent, radiating chatter. "No one else can hear it, but sometimes, if you watch closely, you can see her pommelstone change color. I haven't figured out if that's linked to <i>her</i> feelings or mine, or something else entirely." You glance at the pommelstone in question, but at the moment it's a neutral white. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'You\'re skeptical. Maybe the blow that caused Briony to lose her memories also knocked a few screws loose.' 'youreskepticalmaybeblowcausedbriony'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'You\'re curious. What could cause a sword like that to talk to only one person?' 'yourecuriouswhatcouldcauseswordtotalk'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'You\'re excited. What a discovery this is! It\'s a very unique weapon.' 'youreexcitedwhatdiscoverythisisunique'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'You\'re neutral. Whatever Briony wants to believe, you\'ll let her; it doesn\'t matter much to you.' 'brionytalking'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Briony senses your wordless skepticism and sniffs, turning her nose up. "Well, believe what you want." <<include "brionytalking">>

<<nobr>><<if $sherytime gte 2>> You know from Vivek that it is possible for inanimate objects to speak, at least when a spirit has taken up residence within them… but this seems different from other artifacts you've heard about before. <<else>> You'd like to examine Gonturan further, if you had the time. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "brionytalking">>

Riel and Red would love to hear about this. <<include "brionytalking">>

Briony blinks at you, then reaches up and touches her hair, like she's forgotten about it. "Oh, right," she says absently. "Well, when they found me on that beach, this and Gonturan were the only things I had—except the clothes on my back, of course. I wasn't naked. Not that you thought that." She blushes, but keeps going. "Anyway, it kind of felt like this wasn't just any ribbon—it felt like… I'd held on to it, even when I was flailing around in the ocean, being battered by waves and whatever else was out there. So I figured I'd keep it with me, always, even if I don't remember exactly what it is or what it's for." She shrugs lightly, but now her face broadcasts muted pain. She manages a laugh. "For all I know, it could be nothing. Just a scrap of fabric I picked up on the street and put in my pocket, or something. Wouldn't that be funny?" But she doesn't laugh again. <<include "brionytalking">>

"In his room," she answers blithely. "I went to see him, after our match—he said to thank you again, a thousand times, and some Elvish sayings, but I couldn't make it out well: he was crying. Anyway, he's very happy and relieved, and he'll come see you in the morning." She sends a dazzling smile your way. "He'll never forget this—and neither will I." <<include "brionytalking">>

Briony glances around casually at all of the servants surrounding you. "Oh, I don't know," she says. "I expect I'll just gorge myself on fine food and have a nice time. I'll be on my best behavior, of course. Can't afford to piss off the very man who's in charge of this all." But the look she gives you is loaded with meaning. <<include "brionytalking">>

Briony lights up with pleasure. "Oh, thank you!" she says brightly, doing a little twirl. "I didn't have any day-to-day clothes, except for my armor, so I figured—why not treat myself and buy something nice?" She runs a hand fondly over the hem of her skirt. "I hardly ever get to look—well, you know, like someone who wears dresses." <<nobr>><<if $brionyromanceflag gte 4>> <br><br> Then she glances your way and smiles. "You look really nice, too," she says, with genuine warmth. Then she looks away and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, feigning nonchalance. "Leave it to you to blow everyone out of the water." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "brionytalking">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "suitei">><</link>></center>

The servants lead you up several flights of stairs to a set of doors you didn't even know existed at the top of the stadium. Two pull the doors soundlessly aside, and another takes Briony's sword away before bowing you in, all of them turning and leaving you to enter what feels like the belly of the beast alone. <<nobr>><<if $brionyhate is false>> Briony glances at you once, shrugs, and then strides boldly into the opulent corridor that lies beyond the doors. <<else>> Without acknowledging you, Briony squares her shoulders before striding boldly into the opulent corridor that lies beyond the doors. <</if>><</nobr>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "suiteii">><</link>></center>

Whatever you expected to find inside, nothing lives up to the reality of the dinner party taking place inside the Sponsor's suite. The block of sumptuous rooms resembles the palatial guest apartments often given to visiting nobles and aristocrats at royal estates. Designs in gold filigree crawl over the dark, blood-red walls; everywhere you look it's rich ebony furniture, fur rugs with snarling faces, and expensive suits of armor with feathered plumes and weapons of torture and destruction. It's an eerie mix between opulence and violence, decadence and depravity. The dining room is more like a banquet hall, with one very long table covered in maroon cloth and layered with steaming gold plates and silver pitchers. Bloody, teeth-staining wine and meat crackling with fat fill the air with intense, almost heady aromas; you spy rare golden fruits and black caviar heaped on shallow dishes, and in the center of the table is the enormous roast haunch of some great beast, dripping with red sauce and big enough to feed ten people alone. There are two empty chairs waiting for you and Briony on one side of the long table. Directly across from these seats are two other gladiators, already sitting and tucking eagerly into their drinks and appetizers. One you recognize as the Staghead, though it takes you a moment to place him without his intimidating deer skull. Now he looks positively diffident, his head bowed politely in deference to your host. In this position, he doesn't seem so larger-than-life, his cropped brown hair and boyish face making him seem like a farmer's oldest son, just a young man accustomed to plowing fields and driving oxen to pull carts. However, he is still very tall and broad-shouldered, and the hands that tear at a roast duck wing look large enough to pulverize small boulders, so you decide it's not worth bringing any of this up to him. He's dressed in something resembling a plain, well-tailored suit. Seated next to Staghead is a thin, wiry warrior that you don't recognize: this man has a leathery, dark face and suspicious, alert brown eyes. He nods at Briony once, picking his teeth with a bit of animal bone, before he gives you an assessing look and turns back to his meal in silence. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "suiteiii">><</link>></center>

Finally, the two warriors are watched by your host, seated at the head of the table: an older Norm man, maybe in his fifties or sixties, with graying, receding pale blond hair and pitch-black eyes over a neat, trimmed beard. His face is heavily lined, and he sits with the hunch of a man twenty years older… but the condescending smirk on his face indicates that his wits are all there, and the many-ringed hands he has folded on the table in front of him look unusually strong. So this is the infamous, mysterious Sponsor, the one you've been sent all the way here to find. Something about his countenance strikes a chord in your memory, but you're not sure how and where to place him.<<nobr>><<if $rielinvestigation is true>> In some way he resembles a priest you glimpsed at Minister Turti's gala, so long ago, but that man was much younger… and when you try to reach for any more than that, the memory slips out of your grasp. <</if>><</nobr>> "Welcome," the Sponsor says smoothly, nodding at you without rising. His baritone voice is surprisingly… sweet, and almost hypnotic in quality, as smooth as butter. "You'll forgive me for my rudeness—bad knees, you see. Please, sit. Welcome to you all: the most prized fighters this side of the Shield Peaks." Briony looks at the man with open dislike: it's clear that disguising her emotions, if she's even trying, is not her strong suit. "Hello," she says stiffly, taking her seat across from Staghead. You follow suit, sitting across from the other man. "Staghead. Mountain Jackal. I didn't know you'd be here." Staghead doesn't answer, too absorbed in his food to manage much more than a grunt, but the man called Mountain Jackal says in sibilant tones: "You are not the only fighter the Sponsor deemed worthy of his attentions, Stormbreaker." Briony shoots him an unimpressed look. "Wasn't implying that, Jackal. I just didn't know." "Please," the Sponsor says then, "call me Zythos." He gestures at you to begin eating. "And help yourselves. We have prepared the very finest feast for our champions." Something about this man makes your skin crawl: maybe it's the interested way he watches Staghead gorge himself, as if he's never seen a person eat before, or maybe it's his sweet voice, the slightly predatory way he seems to loom at the head of the table, leaning forward on his elbows. He stares at you intently as you glance at your own empty plate. Against your will, your stomach grumbles. You haven't eaten all day. Briony frowns at her plate for a moment, then hesitantly reaches for a bowl of mashed potatoes. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Don\'t touch the food. He could have done something to it.' 'donttouchfoodbrionyplate'>><<setcunning +3>><<setloyal -3>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Put some food on your plate to put on a polite show, but don\'t eat any of it.' 'putsomefoodonplatepolite'>><<setcharisma +1>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Take a small, careful bite of some whole fruit to test it out.' 'takesmallcarefulbiteofwholefruit'>><<setintelligence +1>><<setloyal +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Help yourself and begin eating. If he\'d wanted you dead or injured, he would have just done it in the arena.' 'helpyourselfandbegineatingifhewanteddead'>><<setcourage +3>><<setloyal +2>><<setcunning -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

You sit and fold your hands in your lap, watching as the others dig in to their food. Zythos, noticing your strange behavior, lets loose a dry little laugh that's more like a cough. "Why, such a small appetite!" he exclaims. "Such a powerful warrior subsides only on air? I'm impressed!" He gives you a gentle smile, to indicate that he's joking, but the expression looks ill-worn, like a bad suit that doesn't quite fit. <<include "suiteiv">>

You heap a few potatoes onto your own plate, as well as a mound of buttered peas. Your mouth waters as you do it, and it takes quite a lot not to have a small bite—but you resist the temptation, biting your tongue against your own hunger. As if sensing your plight, the Sponsor lets out a dry little laugh. "Why, such a small appetite!" he exclaims. "Such a powerful warrior subsides only on air? I'm impressed!" He gives you a gentle smile, to indicate that he's joking, but the expression looks ill-worn, like a bad suit that doesn't quite fit. <<include "suiteiv">>

You take a careful bite of an apple—it's hard to believe that they'd be able to inject poison into the fruit without you noticing a puncture hole—and Zythos tuts. "Why, there's so many delicacies before you, and you choose an apple? What simple tastes you have here in Heth Macoll!" He gives you a gentle smile, to indicate that he's joking, but the expression looks ill-worn, like a bad suit that doesn't quite fit. <<include "suiteiv">>

The Sponsor smirks in slight satisfaction as you proceed with spooning gravy and potatoes onto your plate, grabbing a buttered biscuit dripping with honey and a few stalks of truffled <i>isparati</i>. You have to admit that it's all <i>delicious</i>, especially after your hard fights today. For a while, all that's heard in the dining room are the sounds of you, Briony, Staghead, and Mountain Jackal eating while the Sponsor looks on. <<include "suiteiv">>

<<nobr>><<if $brionyoutcome is "lost">> Beside you, Briony runs out of water, and you notice suddenly that there are no servants attending you anywhere in this enormous suite. Did Zythos dismiss them all? Why would he want to be alone with four of his most fearsome warriors? There are the spellmarks binding you, true, but is he truly so arrogant as to believe that nothing could happen? <br><br> "<<c falsename>>," Zythos says then, very politely. "Briony Stormbreaker has run out of water. Refill her glass, won't you?" <br><br> Ah. That's right, you'd almost forgotten that he expects you to play the role of an "attendant": humiliation for losing your last fight. <br><br> "I'm not comfortable with that," Briony says then, holding her hand over her glass to block you from touching it. Her face is stony, but her eyes look fierce. "Being waited on like that. It's not necessary, thank you. I can fill my own water glass." <br><br> "Nonsense," Zythos chuckles, unperturbed. "It's tradition." <br><br> "I don't care if it's tradition. It's spiteful and demeaning. No, thank you." Although her voice is calm, the hand above her glass trembles slightly. <br><br> Zythos glances at you. "Fill the glass, won't you?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Stare back at him inscrutably. "No, thank you."' 'starebackinscrutablyattalquist'>><<setcourage +1>><<setbriony +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Just let me do it, Briony. It\'s not a big deal."' 'justletmedoitbrionynotabigdeal'>><<setcourage -1>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Forcefully move her hand aside and fill her glass.' 'forcefullymovebrionyhandaside'>><<setbriony -1>><<setloyal -1>><</link>></li> </ul> <<else>> <<include "suitev">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Zythos's expression doesn't change. Instead, he just looks even more amused. <<include "suitev">>

You're lucky Zythos even let you sit at the table at all. Briony flushes angrily, but says nothing as you move her hand aside and refill her drink. Mountain Jackal scoffs under his breath. <<include "suitev">>

Anything to get on the Sponsor's good side and get his guard down, right? Zythos watches you in satisfaction as you fill Briony's glass, smiling to himself like he's just made some great chess maneuver. <<include "suitev">>

"So," Briony says after a moment, dabbing her lips daintily on a napkin. "I'm curious—why even bother 'rewarding' your gladiators like this? Just for the pleasure of watching us eat? It seems a bit funny, given how most of us were captured against our wills, sold into slavery, ripped away from our families and friends… The idea that you might care at all about our feeling good about ourselves with this little banquet seems a bit…" She weighs the word for a moment on her tongue like it's a mouthful of wine. "<i>Hypocritical</i>? Nonsensical?" Across the table, Mountain Jackal puts his wine down rather forcefully and glares at her, but Briony's eyes stay locked on Zythos's face. The man's smile never wavers. "That's so interesting that you would complain that way, my dear. Are you speaking on someone's behalf? Because I know <i>you</i> weren't ripped away from anyone's proverbial bosom: you were already lost when we found you. You have no family or friends to pine for. As far as you're aware, we gave you a better life than the one you would have led after waking up on that beach, half-drowned and senseless." Briony colors, and above the table, a chandelier sways as if disturbed by a rush of hot air. She clenches her hand around her napkin hard enough to bend the silverware within it. Unperturbed, Zythos turns to you with an oily smile and leans forward. "And what about you, <<c falsename>>?" he asks. "You're new to this arena, so I don't believe I've been told the details of your arrival here." This is your chance to learn more about this man: hopefully you can glean some knowledge from him that will help take him and this whole blasted arena down. But you'll have to be careful to ask the right questions and not squander your opportunities while you can. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Give him the false story you and the Shepherds concocted.' 'givehimstoryyouandshepherdsconcocted'>><<if $cunning gte 50>><<setcunning +2>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Deflect and flatter his taste in furnishings.' 'deflectandflatterhistasteinfurnishings'>><<if $charisma gte 50>><<setcharisma +1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Stay stonily silent. Showing that you\'re not intimidated by him will make him respect you.' 'staystonilysilentshowing'>><<if $courage gte 50 or $compassionate lte 40>><<setcourage +1>><</if>><</link>></li> </ul>

You repeat the false alias that Riel concocted for you, talking in brief detail about your job as a 'van guard for a group of merchants; how the Heth Macoll Thieves Guild ambushed you, slaughtered all your clients, and captured you to sell to the arena. <<nobr>><<if $cunning gte 50>> Zythos nods slowly, absorbing your story, told with just the right amount of detail to resemble the truth. He seems to be buying it, at least. <<else>> Zythos looks at you and makes a humming sound, clearly not believing a word you say. Uh-oh. <</if>><</nobr>><<include "talquistquestionpreface">>

"Oh, it's not a very interesting story," you say breezily. "Not nearly as interesting as this place… did you pick out the furnishings? I've never seen the like!" <<nobr>><<if $charisma gte 50>> Miraculously, your flattery seems to work, because Zythos smiles and indulges with you talk about how he never gets to exercise his true sense of aesthetic: he's always confined by the strictures of his work, doomed to boring white and austere angles. You talk on this subject for some time, until Staghead begins to yawn and Briony fiddles with her napkin like she wants to get up and pace. <<else>> However, Zythos must be accustomed to sycophancy, because he looks distinctly-unimpressed by your obvious deflection. He doesn't answer, and the conversation dwindles down into awkward silence. <</if>><</nobr>><<include "talquistquestionpreface">>

<<nobr>><<if (courage gte 50 or $compassionate lte 40)>> You stare at him flatly, showing how little his probing means to you. Zythos looks mutedly impressed, and the conversation moves on to other topics for a while before turning to you again. <<else>> You stare at him flatly, but Zythos stares readily back, and soon you find your face growing hot under his intense scrutiny. Before you can even really stop yourself, you shift in your seat and look away, and when you look back, Zythos has a smug little smile of triumph that makes you want to scream. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "talquistquestionpreface">>

<<set $talquistask to 1>><<set $talquistknow to false>><<include "talquistquestions">>

<<nobr>> <<if $talquistask is 1>> <<include "talquistquestionsreal">> <<elseif $talquistask is 2>> Strangely, you feel a headache kick up between your eyes, increasing in pain and magnitude until it feels like a low-banked fire is roaring inside your skull. <<include "talquistquestionsreal">> <<elseif $talquistask is 3>> You frown, and the headache grows worse. <<include "talquistquestionsreal">> <<elseif $talquistask is 4>> You knead your forehead. You're finding it a bit difficult to concentrate. <<include "talquistquestionsreal">> <<elseif $talquistask is 5>> You wince as a needlepoint of pain flashes through your head. <<include "talquistquestionsreal">> <<elseif $talquistask is 6>> Your head swims a little. What is going on? Did you hit your head harder than you thought during a fight today? <<include "talquistquestionsreal">> <<elseif $talquistask is 7>> You frown, rubbing your temple. Trying to get answers out of him is like trying to squeeze blood from a stone. <<include "talquistquestionsreal">> <<elseif $talquistask gte 8>> <<include "talquistend">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<ul class="choices"> <<if $belief is "one-god">><<if not hasVisited("whydoifeelirecognizeyousomewherebefore")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Why do I feel like I recognize you? I\'m sure I\'ve seen you somewhere before..."</div>' 'whydoifeelirecognizeyousomewherebefore'>><<set $talquistask += 1>><</link>><</if>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("sowhatisitthatyoudotalquist")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"So what is it that you do?"</div>' 'sowhatisitthatyoudotalquist'>><<set $talquistask += 1>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("doyouhavebusinesspartnerstalquist")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Do you have any business partners? Do you answer to someone else?"</div>' 'doyouhavebusinesspartnerstalquist'>><<set $talquistask += 1>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("whatgaveyouarenaidea")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"What gave you the idea to start the arena?"</div>' 'whatgaveyouarenaidea'>><<set $talquistask += 1>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("ideaofwardstalquist")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"How did you come up with the idea of the wards? Despite myself, I have to say they\'re..."</div>' 'ideaofwardstalquist'>><<set $talquistask += 1>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("whystagheadmountainjackalhere")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Why are Staghead and Mountain Jackal here?"</div>' 'whystagheadmountainjackalhere'>><<set $talquistask += 1>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("whythisroastanimalsittinginmiddleoftable")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"What is this roast animal that\'s sitting in the middle of the table?"</div>' 'whythisroastanimalsittinginmiddleoftable'>><<set $talquistask += 1>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("howoftendothiscomearenabouts")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"How often do you do this? Come to the arena to watch the bouts, host gladiators for dinner?"</div>' 'howoftendothiscomearenabouts'>><<set $talquistask += 1>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("doyoumakelotsofmoneyhostingthesefights")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Do you make a lot of money, hosting these fights and having the Scales?"</div>' 'doyoumakelotsofmoneyhostingthesefights'>><<set $talquistask += 1>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("youmusthavefamilyfriendsdotheyknow")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"You must have a family, friends. Do they know about what you\'re doing here?"</div>' 'youmusthavefamilyfriendsdotheyknow'>><<set $talquistask += 1>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("areyouincontrolofwardstalquist")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Are you the one in control of the wards?"</div>' 'areyouincontrolofwardstalquist'>><<set $talquistask += 1>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($talquistknow is false) and (($specialization is "enchanter" and $magic gte 50) or ($specialization is "enchanter" and $psionic gte 55) or ($magic gte 70 and $psionic gte 70))>><<link '<div class="question-item">Reach out to his mind and try to scan his thoughts.</div>' 'reachoutmindtrytoscanthoughtstalquist'>><<set $talquistknow to true>><<set $talquistask += 1>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Reach out to his mind and try to scan his thoughts.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> </ul>

Zythos smiles, all teeth. "I'm sure you have. Maybe if you think a little harder, it will come to you." <<include "talquistquestions">>

Zythos laughs. "Why, I sponsor the arena, of course." "Besides that," you prompt. "I don't see how that's any of your concern," Zythos answers, still genial. <<include "talquistquestions">>

It's a rather desperate dive, playing at his potential insecurities, but Zythos remains unshaken. "Yes and no," he says, smiling crookedly. "I work alone. I think and act alone. But we all serve a higher power, don't we?" <<include "talquistquestions">>

"There seemed to be a need for it," Zythos replies, swirling his wine in its glass, though he doesn't drink it. "I just fill the need." <<include "talquistquestions">>

<<nobr>><<if $charisma gte 50>> "…a brilliant idea. It's kind of an ingenious business model. I'm surprised no one thought of it sooner." <br><br> Zythos chuckles. "I'm known for my… innovation." However, that's all he says. <<else>> "…pretty impressive. I guess." You just can't bring yourself to compliment such a detestable man sincerely. He smirks at your obvious ambivalence and doesn't answer. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "talquistquestions">>

Staghead makes a snorting sound at you, not unlike an angry elk. "We've just as much of a right to be here as you, new-blood." Zythos smiles, watching you both. "As to why you're all here," he says silkily, "I suppose it's no real secret. This dinner is a… vetting process, so to speak. I select three or four of the finest gladiators we have after watching them fight. Then, during dinner… I see which one really catches my eye. And then I invite that lucky warrior to my private chambers first. Then the others follow, in turn." He laughs a little at your look. "Don't worry, it's not about what you think. I'm far too old to be preoccupied with matters of the flesh—and besides, my soul belongs to another." He shrugs. "So rest easy. If I pick you, it won't be for any nefarious reason. Just… to give you a token of my special favor, that's all." Briony scrunches her nose in distaste, and Mountain Jackal catches your eye from across the table. When Zythos turns and engages Staghead in conversation, the Jackal mumbles under his breath: "I wonder why the poor wretches he picks never come back to the arena, then?" <<include "talquistquestions">>

Zythos smirks.<<nobr>><<if $wyvernoutcome is "won" or $wyvernoutcome is "lost">> "Why, that's the very wyvern you killed earlier today." <<else>> "Why, it's roast wyvern." <</if>><</nobr>> Briony chokes abruptly on the bite she was taking, and Staghead slowly lowers his fork to his plate, blinking slowly. Mountain Jackal keeps chewing, unperturbed, before Zythos begins to laugh. "I speak in jest," he says. "It's roast crocodile." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"That\'s... not much better."' 'roastanimalcrocodile'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Oh, then that\'s fine, I guess."' 'roastanimalcrocodile'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"What...?"' 'roastanimalcrocodile'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Strangely delicious."' 'roastanimalcrocodile'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Zythos raises his glass to you in a mocking toast. <<include "talquistquestions">>

"Perhaps… once a year?" Briony looks up at that, frowning. "How long have you been running this arena, then? I haven't met any gladiator who's been here for more than a year." Zythos says nothing, but his silence is more than enough answer. Briony makes a little gasping sound, looking genuinely shocked. <<include "talquistquestions">>

"My child, it's not about the money for me," Zythos says with a smile. But what it is about, he doesn't say. <<include "talquistquestions">>

Zythos shakes his head. "If I did have one, I know they would understand," he says in that oily, gentle way. "But I do not. I belong first and foremost to my god, no one else." "Would <i>your god</i> approve of what you're doing here?" "Most definitely," Zythos answers contentedly. <<include "talquistquestions">>

Zythos bursts out laughing. "My, you are very transparent," he says teasingly. "I wonder why you would ask such a thing?" He puts a mocking finger to his lips, as if in thought. "I retain some control over them, yes. But ultimately it's others who you'll have to 'deal with' in order to lift them, if that's what you're getting at." <<include "talquistquestions">>

Looking down at your plate, you subtly reach out a tendril of your mind, figuring you can glean some information from Zythos's stray thoughts. You'll have to be quick and subtle about it, but it should be within your capabilities. To your surprise, though, as soon as you reach towards Zythos's mind, you encounter… a wall. It's not the usual ironclad barrier erected by Mages to deter infiltration of their thoughts, nor the crackling, fizzy energy of a another kind of spell. It's just a… blankness. An empty nothing, as if Zythos were dead. You root around, but you can't sense any of his thoughts, which should be impossible. He's living and breathing, smiling as he raises his glass to Mountain Jackal for some dry joke, but for all you can see of his mind, he might as well be some sort of automaton. A puppet made out of flesh and bone rather than kindling and twine. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'You recoil sharply, unable to hide your alarm.' 'yourecoilsharplyunablehidealarm'>><<setcunning -1>><</link>></li> <<if $briony gte 45 and $brionyhate is false>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Nudge Briony\'s foot. You need to warn her that something\'s wrong.</div>' 'nudgebrionysfootneedtowarn'>><<setbriony +1>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Nudge Briony\'s foot. You need to warn her that something\'s wrong.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $cunning gte 40>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Keep your face cool and unreadable, as if nothing had happened at all.</div>' 'keepfacecoolunreadable'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Keep your face cool and unreadable, as if nothing had happened at all.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> </ul>

Zythos's attention immediately snaps to you. "Something wrong, <<c falsename>>?" he asks with a little tilt of his head. You try to recover, but you know you must look twitchy. "No, nothing at all." He smirks knowingly at you. <<include "talquistquestions">>

You nudge Briony's foot, and she glances at you curiously from over the rim of her wide cup. While Zythos is still preoccupied, you murmur, "There's something wrong with him. I can't read his thoughts." Briony frowns and opens her mouth to ask you more, but then Zythos addresses her, and she swivels to answer him. You manage to compose yourself in the few moments they're distracted by their own conversation, though Briony now looks openly uneasy. <<include "talquistquestions">>

No one seems to notice that anything's amiss, including Zythos. Though the way he smiles at you seems to be more and more smug. <<include "talquistquestions">>

Then Mountain Jackal looks up, addressing Zythos for the first time since dinner started. "I'd like to know something, your lordship," he says, his tone verging on sarcastic. Zythos inclines his head, granting him permission to continue. Mountain Jackal points a thumb at himself, then you. "Stormbreaker here's champion of the arena. Staghead's got the second-best record, and me, I've survived the longest out of anyone who's ever come here, even if I don't have as many wins under my belt. But why is ol' $gladiatortitle here? <<nobr>><<if $brionyoutcome is "won">> Sure, $she beat the Stormbreaker, but that was one fight. Have you ever invited a gladiator so new to the arena to dine with you?" <<elseif $brionyoutcome is "lost">> Sure, $she beat Nathe, but he was dogshit at fighting, and then $she lost to the Stormbreaker besides. Have you ever invited a gladiator so new to the arena to dine with you?" <<elseif $wyvernoutcome is "won">> Sure, $she killed the wyvern, but so what? Plenty of gladiators have survived the same kind of match, sometimes with even more dangerous creatures. Have you ever invited a gladiator so new to the arena to dine with you?" <<else>> <<c she>> lost to Nathe, and he was dogshit at fighting, and then $she got turned to stone by a damn lizard, so why would $she be invited? Have you ever invited a gladiator so new to the arena to dine with you?" <</if>><</nobr>> You stare at Mountain Jackal, but he doesn't seem to be saying all of this to agitate you; instead, he stares Zythos down, as if challenging him. Perhaps the wily fighter senses something is amiss, as well, and is attempting to pry it out of Zythos. The Sponsor smiles. Somehow your headache increases, and at the same time, you smell something vile—something that reminds you of sulfur, of black fire and singed flesh. From the way the others shift warily, they must sense it, too. "You're a clever one, aren't you, Jackal?" Zythos purrs. "It's a fitting name for you. Yes, you're right—this dinner is very unusual, for many different reasons. In normal circumstances, I would have never have invited a mere Tyro fighter into my presence." He curls his hand, bedecked in heavy rings, towards you. "However, I couldn't resist making an exception for $falsename. It's not every day I get to dine with an undercover agent—the so-called Hero of Haven." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>What?</span></div></div>' "talquistendi">><</link>></center>

Several things happen in that instant, all at once. Briony surges to her feet and leaps down the table at Zythos, her hand blazing with light like she's holding a starburst in her fist. She seems intent on killing him in one blow, as she has been coiling herself up to do all evening—but her fist meets empty air, and she staggers and whirls, looking around in alarm. Staghead also leaps to his feet with a roar, fists ready to swing; but Zythos is nowhere to be seen. Then the other three gladiators stare at you… or rather, behind you. You feel a dark presence hovering against your neck, like sickly flame. Zythos stands somewhere behind you, having teleported faster than even Briony could predict. "I knew you would come eventually," Zythos whispers, his breath moving the hairs on the back of your neck and making your eyes prickle. "But alas, you came far too slowly, far too late. The time of the Nightwalker has come. And there's nothing you can do about it…" <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>"<i>Brightburner.</i>"</span></div></div>' "talquistendii">><</link>></center>

Mountain Jackal rises to his feet too, gripping his steak knife in his fist; but all seem frozen, unable to do anything while Zythos stands behind you. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Snap your head back and headbutt him in the face.' 'driveback'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Shove your chair back and hit him in the stomach.' 'driveback'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Drive your elbow back and smash it into his groin.' 'driveback'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Grab your own steak knife and plunge it backwards.' 'driveback'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'ve come here to kill you, demon."' 'ivecomeheretokillyoudemontalquist'>><</link>></li> </ul>

But you meet empty air. Zythos lets loose an oily laugh… and then he disappears for good. <<include "talquistendiii">>

Zythos laughs. "I cannot be killed," he gloats. "I am immortal. Immaterial. <i>More</i>. I am as inevitable as war, as common as spilt blood. You could never kill me: <i>you cannot kill death</i>." Briony lunges suddenly for him, ready to drive her fist into his heart, but he's already vanished. You look around, but it seems he's disappeared for good. <<include "talquistendiii">>

Someone bursts into the room just at that moment, sending splinters of wood showering through the air. You leap to your feet, ready to fight off whatever reinforcements Zythos has sent to kill you… but then you stare. Halek is standing there, breathing hard, his body blazing with a halo of hard white light. Red and Ayla stand behind him, looking windswept and breathless. "<<c falsename>>," Red says, looking between you and Halek, who looks wildly around the room, flaring his nostrils. "He caught wind of—of a demon or something, some kind of presence even his collar couldn't let him ignore." "Faceless Lord," Halek grinds out. Swear pours down his face; it seems to take great effort to remain coherent enough to speak, to not go berserk and tear the city apart for his quarry. At least the metal collar he's wearing still helps, in that regard, though he looks like he's in pain. Ayla looks around. "Where's the Sponsor? Aren't you supposed to be eating with him?" "He just disappeared," you answer, rounding the table to look out the window. Outside, Heth Macoll's spires and minarets are bathed in the bloody light of sunset. "No idea where he went." "I'm sorry, what is going on?" Briony inputs then. Mountain Jackal looses a groan. "You're all idiots," he snaps, sitting back down in his seat and downing a goblet of wine. "Didn't you realize who he was? How could you not recognize him at first sight?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"What are you talking about?"' 'talquistendiv'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You knew who he was?"' 'talquistendiv'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Speak plainly, Jackal."' 'talquistendiv'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Who was he?"' 'talquistendiv'>><</link>></li> </ul>

It's Staghead who answers, not Mountain Jackal. "I guess we know now why no one ever comes back from dinner with him," he rumbles. "He must have them killed, or devour their souls, or whatever it takes to keep his identity a secret." "That man was the Western Hierophant," Mountain Jackal tells you. "One of the four leaders of the Church, cardinal of the golden compass, holiness of holinesses, one of the hands of God Xerself. The whole city's been in a state of frenzy, knowing he's here on tour." He shakes his head. "The Western Hierophant is the Sponsor. Or rather, the Sponsor is the Western Hierophant. And, I suppose, he's also whatever this Faceless Lord is. A demon." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Well, shit.' 'talquistendv'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Well, fuck.' 'talquistendv'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Goddamn it.' 'talquistendv'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Hm. Don\'t like that.' 'talquistendv'>><</link>></li> </ul>

<<nobr>><<if $ayla gt $red>> Ayla hurries over to check on you while the others work to calm Halek down. "You all right?" She gives you a cursory once-over. "We were kinda worried about you, so we decided to poke around and see if we could hear about your condition... pretend like we were audience members who were bored and hanging around after the day's bouts. Then Halek just went crazy and decided to charge in here, so it's not like we were going to stop him." <<if $wyvernpunch is true>> She gives you a crooked smile. "Nice job on punching that wyvern, by the way. <<if $aylaromanceflag gte 4>> That was pretty badass. And kind of sexy, if I'm going to be brutally honest." <<else>> That was pretty badass." <</if>> <</if>> <<else>> Red hurries over to check on you while the others work to calm Halek down. "Are you all right, <<c halfname2>>?" he asks softly. He looks you up and down, clearly worried. <<if $redromanceflag gte 5>> He frowns and brushes a bit of dirt on your cheek away with his thumb. <</if>> "You wouldn't believe the heart attack you gave me, having to watch you battle it out in the arena. Not that you gave me any specific reason to be worried, of course. I'm just, er, a worrier in general." He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. "We thought we'd check out the arena, poke around in a few areas under the guise of being audience members who wanted to linger after the day's fights... and then Halek just went—half-berserk, I suppose the term would be? Not the typical blood-rage, but he couldn't really stop himself from charging in here. So of course we had to follow. So much for lying low." He grimaces. "How are you? Were you hurt?" <</if>><</nobr>> Before you can answer, Mountain Jackal peeks his head out of the shattered set of doors that Halek came through. "Coast is clear," he hisses. "For now. Kind of surprised the servants didn't come running at all the noise you three made." "We didn't run into anyone while we were charging up here, miraculously," Red says. He glances at you sidelong and amends, "Some translocation magic might have helped, though it took the wind out of me. We had to wrestle Halek to get him still enough for me to do it. <<nobr>><<if $haveweapon is false>> Also, we brought your weapons and gear. Thought you'd might need them." He shakes his head. "We're lucky that the Sponsor didn't want any servants to sit in on this dinner, or else they would have raised the alarm by now. Security is surprisingly lax in this place." <<else>> And we're lucky that the Sponsor didn't want any servants to sit in on this dinner, or else they would have raised the alarm by now. Security is surprisingly lax in this place." <</if>><</nobr>> "That's because they're always expecting people to break <i>out</i>, not in," Briony says, folding her arms. "Now, mind telling me who you all are?" Red and Ayla glance at you for direction. You take a breath. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>"We\'re Shepherds."</span></div></div>' "talquistendvi">><</link>></center>

Briony stares blankly. "What, like for goats?" "Oh, for—" Mountain Jackal makes an impatient noise. "They're demon-killers. Police." "Oh! <i>Oh</i>." After a moment, Briony suddenly frowns at you. "I… see. Then—" She blinks a few times. "Is your name really <<c falsename>>?" You shake your head. "No, it's actually <<c firstname>> <<c surname>>." "Right." Briony bites her lip. "Then—Nathe? <<nobr>><<if $natheoutcome is "forfeit">> I didn't realize you were here to... Was it alright that you threw your match with him?" <<elseif $natheoutcome is "won">> Is that why you didn't let him win? I didn't realize you were here to..." <<elseif $natheoutcome is "lost">> I didn't realize you were here to... Is it alright that you lost to him?" <<else>> Why did you kill him, if you're really an officer of the law?" <</if>><</nobr>> <ul class="choices"> <<if $natheoutcome is "lost" or $natheoutcome is "forfeit">><li><<link '"It\'s alright. I still ended up here, which is all that matters."' 'talquistendvii'>><<setbriony +1>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link '"I did what I had to do."' 'talquistendvii'>><</link>></li> <<if $natheoutcome is "killed" or $natheoutcome is "won">><li><<link '"I\'m sorry. It was for the sake of my mission."' 'sakeofmissiontalquist'>><<if $natheoutcome is "killed">><<setbriony -5>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setloyal -5>><</if>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link '"He definitely threw a wrench in our plans."' 'talquistendvii'>><</link>></li> </ul>

<<nobr>><<if $natheoutcome is "killed">> "But you didn't have to <i>kill</i> him!" Briony blurts. <br><br> You shake your head. "I did what I thought was best." <br><br> <<include "talquistendvii">> <<else>> She rubs her arm self-consciously. "I… see." <br><br> <<include "talquistendvii">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Red addresses Briony. "And who are you, if you don't mind my asking?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"She\'s a friend."' 'shesafriendtalquistbriony'>><<setbriony +3>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"She\'d be useful. She wants to kill the Sponsor—I mean the demon—too."' 'shedbeusefulkillsponsor'>><<setloyal +1>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"She\'s nobody you need to worry about."' 'shesnobodyyouneedworryaboutbrionyred'>><<setbriony -3>><<setcompassionate -2>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Let Briony speak for herself.' 'letbrionyspeakforherself'>><</link>></li> </ul>

"Always good to make new friends," Red states. <<include "talquistendviii">>

"Huh," Red says. "Well, then—all right, then." <<include "talquistendviii">>

"I'm Briony," she says, waving in a friendly manner. "Stormbreaker, gladiator, champion, local amnesiac. You probably saw me fighting today, if you were watching." Red snaps his fingers suddenly. "Oh, right—the pink hair." She rolls her eyes. "Yes, I'm the owner of that hair." Red grins at her. "Sorry, everything looks so small when you're up in the stands." <<include "talquistendviii">>

He shakes Briony's hand, and Ayla gives a curt nod. Introductions are made, and you all give brief explanations about what's transpired, including your mission, the nature of the Shepherds, Briony's story, your story, and even her plot to kill the Sponsor. "I wish I had known about your thing!" Briony exclaims. "I would have said something sooner, and we could have coordinated together much better. <<nobr>><<if $natheoutcome is "lost" or $natheoutcome is "forfeit">> After Nathe, I meant to give you the heads up, but all the servants were around, and there was never a chance to say much after that." She sighs. "Staghead, Jackal, the others and I have been planning this for some time. <<else>> Staghead, Jackal, and I have been planning this for some time. <</if>><</nobr>> You were sort of a wild variable, getting added in at the last minute, but I didn't think you'd have any objections if we killed him. We thought it would have more of an effect on the wards, though." She frowns, plucking at something invisible in the air. "But I can still feel them there, even though he's gone. I can't believe he could <i>translocate</i>! I thought he was a Norm, through and through—the bastard was cleverer than we thought." "Not clever," Jackal states. "It's not like he outsmarted us. He's <i>possessed</i>. None of us could have expected that." "We always knew he picked three or four champions whenever he came to visit," Staghead says then, his voice rumbling so deeply you can feel it in your chest. "So we made it so that things conspired—transpired—so it would be us this time." He frowns. "What do you think he did with all the other ones, the ones who came before us? Everyone acts like it's some great honor to earn, having dinner with him, but we all know whoever gets picked never actually comes back." "We always thought it was because he sold them to some other arena," Mountain Jackal adds. "Somewhere nicer and bigger, on account of their proving themselves as great champions. But now I wonder…" He shakes his head. "Maybe he ate them. Devoured their souls, their warrior strength, to make himself stronger. Fed on their essences. He wanted the best and brightest to take into himself. He probably does the same to those who get sentenced to the Scales—the leftovers, the scraps. He's a demon, after all. Them <i>kisichs</i> are insatiable." "Worse than a demon," Halek grinds out then. He's sitting in a chair, his jaw clenched as he takes deep breaths and tries to master his blood-rage. His voice is tight and shaky, but at least he's able to talk, and the white light blazing around him has faded. "A Faceless Lord. One of the five limbs of Tapyt in this world. Not a hand of God, but a hand of the devil himself." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "talquistendix">><</link>></center>

You listen gravely as Halek explains your predicament. He can't track the Faceless Lord's aura; unlike all other demons, the High Cacophants are able to cloak themselves from even Hunters, shielding themselves from outside notice. It's how Quiial and Clochus <<nobr>><<if $troubleequalist is true>> and Blaphemel <</if>><</nobr>> were able to escape attention for so long. The only reason his blood-rage was activated was because Zythos revealed his demonic aura, very briefly, in order to ready the magic that ultimately teleported him away. "And he's powerful," Halek says, running a shaky hand over his brow. "More powerful than the others, by far. He's had a longer time to be in this world, to draw power from it and stabilize his presence here. He's cloaked himself in the flesh of the Hierophant, living out his life over the years, doing little things in that guise to build his strength—and like aged wine steeping in a barrel, he's become more potent. The others you'd faced had just woken up, or were still weak—<i>he's</i> been on this plane for a long time." "How long, though?" Ayla asks, folding her arms. "Was the Hierophant <i>always</i> possessed, or was it more recent? How long has he been acting as a vessel for the most powerful demon-general of all?" Halek shakes his head. "There's no way for us to know." "And who is 'he', anyway?" Briony asks then. She paces back and forth, her glittering skirts swishing around her knees. "Do you know anything else about this Faceless Lord, other than the fact that he's bad news?" "His name is Jarkyth," Halek rasps. "The Blood-Drinker. Patron of violence, destruction, upheaval, bloodthirst, and wrath. He grows powerful from needless destruction, spilt blood, chaos, conflict, and wanton death, particularly that of innocents." There's a heavy pause there. "Well, that's not great news," Briony says in a very dry voice. "Considering he's been moonlighting as the literal owner of a violent and combative arena full of warriors who fight each other to the death every day…" "And that's not to mention his role as Hierophant," Red says, kneading his forehead in a worried way. "The animal sacrifices. The blood spilled for the One-God. People all over the Continent have followed the Western Hierophant's lead in that; they make bloody offerings all the time. At dawn, at sunset. He was the one who introduced the idea in the first place—<i>shit.</i>" You look around at all the worried faces in the room. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"We\'re in trouble."' 'talquistendx'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"We can take him."' 'talquistendx'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"He\'s had years to grow strong and feed off of the violence he created. What are we going to do about it?"' 'talquistendx'>><</link>></li> </ul>

<<nobr>><<if $shepherdsknow is true>> "Well, you can use your… you know, whatever words or whatever it is you say," Ayla says bluntly, folding your arms. Everyone in your inner circle knows about your powers and history now. "The ones that erase the demons and all. Just because he's more powerful than the other fuckers, doesn't mean he can withstand something like that." <<else>> "Well, <<c firstname>>'s got a handle on it," Ayla says, folding her arms and glancing at you. "That's kind of $her thing, no? Getting rid of nasty Faceless Lord parasites? It's worked in the past." <</if>><</nobr>> Halek shakes his head. "It's not that simple," he says. His voice is hoarse and raw, like he's swallowed gravel. "I'm telling you, this Faceless Lord is different from the others. Much stronger, given how much time he's had to enhance his power and prepare. He's most likely going to have the ability to jump hosts, possess other vessels at a moment's notice. <<nobr>><<if $shepherdsknow is true>> Even if you do use a Word of Power against him, there's always the chance he might leap into someone else at the last second, in the moment that the mortal flesh disintegrates. And we would never know. Not even me." <<else>> Even if we do manage to destroy him, there's always the chance he might leap into someone else at the last second. And we would never know. Not even me." <</if>><</nobr>> Silence again at that. You frown to yourself. Could that be true? Could a Faceless Lord at this strength really escape you and your strange powers? "It's not worth the risk, in any case," Red says slowly. "Can you imagine what would happen if a Faceless Lord managed to hide himself away in one of <i>us</i>? It'd be the end of the Shepherds as we know it. Maybe even the world." <<if $possessed is true>> <br><br> Something twinges in your brain like a laugh, but you ignore it. It must just be the remnants of the headache Jarkyth's presence gave you. <</if>> "There is a way to prevent that from happening," Halek says slowly. He lets out a long, slow breath. "If we can just… corner him somewhere, I think I know a way that I can… trap him. Extract the demon from the host and paralyze it, keep it from jumping anywhere else. If I can do that first, and hold it in place, you should be able to kill it." He shakes his head. "But I won't be able to help you do it. All my concentration will be focused on binding the thing in place." "Well, all right, then," Ayla says decisively. "Let's do that." Red runs a hand through his hair. "But how are we going to find the demon in the first place? It's a big city. He could be anywhere." Mountain Jackal snorts from the corner of the room. "You fools," he says. "He's the Hierophant. He's here to celebrate the high holy day. He has to lead the ceremony of Saint Cecily and the Orange Tree at dawn. At the cathedral. He can't miss it, or everyone will know something's amiss. It's the whole reason why he came here." Everyone's heads swivel to him. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"But why would he keep up the charade of being Hierophant? He\'s already revealed himself."' 'whywouldhekeepupthecharacdehierophant'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"How do you know so much about this, Jackal?"' 'howdoyouknowsomuchjackalthis'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Do you think he\'d still go, knowing we know where he\'ll be?"' 'doyouthinkhedstillgoknowingweknowhellbe'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Mountain Jackal snorts again. "So? He revealed himself to <i>you</i>, but who's going to believe you? You're stuck here and can't do a damn thing about it." <<include "talquistendxi">>

Mountain Jackal snorts again. "I follow the One-God. So what?" He shakes his head. "Anyway, it doesn't matter what I know. We're all stuck here, and can't do a damn thing about it. We can't stop him." <<include "talquistendxi">>

Mountain Jackal snorts again. "Why wouldn't he? As far as he knows, you're stuck here and can't do a damn thing about it." <<include "talquistendxi">>

Red groans. "Of course. What good is it if we have a guess as to where he'll be? <<c firstname>> can't leave the arena. Those ward-spells are impenetrable; I can't pry them apart. It'd take me weeks, even at my best." "I've had no luck, either," you say. You haven't gotten a chance to examine the wards closely, but even from afar, your chances look grim. "I'm rotten with any magic that doesn't have to do with wind," Ayla adds blithely. "Fat load of good having a bunch of Mages in one room is, huh?" "So what are you going to do?" Staghead rumbles, folding his enormous arms. "You can't go after the Hierophant if you can't leave the arena. And once he leaves the city, he'll be untouchable, surrounded by all his guards and pageantry. If you're going to strike him down, the only time to do it is now, when he's in a foreign city and not expecting you." "But how do we get out of here?" Ayla demands. Briony has fallen silent for some time, looking lost in thought. Finally she straightens, resolve and determination clear on her face. "Well," she says. "I suppose it's time for a revolt." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "talquistendxii">><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<if settings.music is true>><<audio "arenainvestigate" volume 0.1 play>><</if>><</nobr>>Briony explains the situation to you after she dispatches Staghead and Mountain Jackal to make preparations. She's been planning a rebellion with Nathe and the others for months now, rallying the gladiators together to gather the salient information and ready themselves to strike. Her plan ended at killing the Sponsor—the supposed head of the snake—tonight, but there was always a backup plan in case he either got away or the wards continued to work. "Tovrik," Briony explains, jogging with you along the empty corridors away from the Sponsor's suite. "If Zythos isn't the one controlling the ward-spells, Tovrik is. But it's so difficult to get to him, because he's so well-guarded, and he can just activate the wards and knock us all out, or maybe even <i>kill</i> us—whereas we knew we'd be alone with the Sponsor if we could just earn our way to his dinner, and four against one gave us much better odds. That's why we left Tovrik for last, because the chance of failure was so high with him." She looks grim. "But we've got no choice now." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"You don\'t have to do this, Briony."' 'donthavetodothisbrionyexplain'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Maybe you should hang back and let us take care of this."' 'maybeyoushouldhangbackletustakecareofthis'>><<setloyal -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Thanks for your help."' 'thanksforyourhelpbrionystaghead'>><<setloyal +1>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setbriony +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

<<nobr>><<if $brionyhate is true>> <<include "brionydisdain">> <<else>> <<include "brionygrin">> <</if>><</nobr>>

She gives you a wolfish grin. "Are you kidding? This is what I've been waiting for. And that Faceless Hierophant or whoever is owed my fist in his face." She pauses. "And—from what I understand of the Shepherds, it sound like you do… good work. The kind of thing that helps people. I want to do that, too." She smiles at you, softer this time. "So if you need my sword, I'm here." <<include "talquistendxiii">>

She shoots you a disdainful frown, full of clear dislike. "I'm not doing it for you. I'm doing it for me, and Nathe, and all of us—for our freedom, and for revenge, and…" She falls silent. "Anyway, I'm not doing it for you." <<include "talquistendxiii">>

<<nobr>><<if $brionyhate is true>> She gives you a disdainful look, full of clear dislike. "Not on your life." <br><br> <<include "talquistendxiii">> <<else>> <<include "brionygrin">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $brionyhate is true>> <<include "brionydisdain">> <<else>> <<include "brionygrin">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Elsewhere, you hear the sounds of distant battle, quickly muted. Briony said that the key to getting to Tovrik was to eliminate anyone who could come to warn him first, instantaneously, simultaneously, and so silently that no one would suspect a thing. To accomplish that, almost every gladiator in the arena was needed, working in perfect tandem in order to pull it off. The whole thing took months of careful work, including giving the public appearance of unfriendliness and non-cooperation among the gladiators so that no one would suspect they were planning anything together. There are no screams, but you can't imagine that those warriors are going to be very kind to their captors. Alongside you, Red, Ayla, and Halek keep pace, pensive and silent. Now would be a good time to check in with someone before the action really starts. <ul class="choices"> <<if $brionyhate is false>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Ask Briony how she\'s feeling.</div>' 'askbrionyhowshesfeeling'>><<setbriony +3>><<set $brionyromanceflag += 1>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Ask Briony how she\'s feeling.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link 'Ask Red how he\'s feeling.' 'askredhowhesfeeling'>><<setred +3>><<set $redromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <<if $aylahate is false>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Ask Ayla how she\'s feeling.</div>' 'askaylahowshesfeeling'>><<setayla +3>><<set $aylaromanceflag += 1>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Ask Ayla how she\'s feeling.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link 'Ask Halek how he\'s feeling.' 'askhalekhowhesfeeling'>><<sethalek +3>><</link>></li> </ul>

Briony tugs on her ponytail absently, as in thought. You know she's listening for the sounds of the other gladiators, her comrades, and wondering how they're doing. <<nobr>><<if $natheoutcome is "won">> "I feel awful," she says finally, distantly. "We've been planning this since forever, and now I'm wondering—why didn't we make our move before Nathe's fight? We could have tried to escape, could have…" <br><br> She trails off, glancing at you. "But we thought it would be too soon, too risky, to do it any earlier than when the Sponsor was here, when we could get at him at his dinner. I guess that's why we placed all our hopes on you." <br><br> The heavy way she ends the sentences says everything. <br><br> <<include "talquistendxiv">> <<else>> "I'm—just thinking about a lot of things, I guess," she says finally. "How we're all going to get out of here. How we're going to get to the cathedral. What'll happen after that. I…" She trails off, then shakes her head. "Never mind." Then she gives you a weak smile. "So, a Shepherd, huh? That sounds pretty impressive, now that I know what it is." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Do you know what Endarkened are?"' 'doyouknowhatendarkenedarequestion'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Would you like to join? I think you\'d make a great Shepherd."' 'wouldyouliketojoinithinkyoudmakegreatshepherd'>><<setbriony +1>><<set $brionyromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"We\'re just regular people, just like anyone else."' 'werejustregularpeoplelikeanyoneelse'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"What were you going to say, just then?"' 'whatwereyougoingtosayjustthenbriony'>><<setbriony +1>><</link>></li> </ul> <</if>><</nobr>>

It seems a stupid question, but she does have her amnesia. Briony laughs slightly. "Of course I do. Well, someone had to explain it to me, but I got it after that. And I've had to fight my fair share of Endarkened-blooded things in the arena. That wyvern was not the biggest—or scariest—thing I've had to face." <<include "talquistendxiv">>

Her eyes light up at that. "Really? You think so?" She looks excited, beaming and practically bouncing on her feet at the thought of it. "I mean—I'd have to think more about it, obviously, but—I can't pretend it doesn't sound amazing!" <<include "talquistendxiv">>

Briony makes a humming sound. "Well," she says lightly. "If you ever have need of an irregular freak like me, let me know. I'd be willing to sign up." <<include "talquistendxiv">>

"Hm? Oh." Briony gives a casual sort of wave of her hand. "Just… thinking about where I'd go, after all this was over. I haven't had time to think about it too much. Too busy… planning, thinking about other things. But now that it seems close at hand, I have to wonder." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Wouldn\'t you try and recover your lost memories?"' 'wouldntyoutryrecoverlostmemories'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"What about Nathe?"' 'whataboutnathebrionyanother'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Good luck with that."' 'goodluckwiththatbriony'>><<setbriony -1>><<setloyal -3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You can always come with us, if you like."' 'youcanalwayscomewithusifyoulikebriony'>><<setbriony +1>><<set $brionyromanceflag += 1>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setloyal +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

She grimaces. "Maybe that'd be the smart thing to do," Briony admits. But then she looks away. "But a part of me just… doesn't want to." <<include "talquistendxiv">>

She shakes her head. "He has his own family to go back to," she says. "As do most of the fighters here, I think. I couldn't intrude. I'd have to find my own way." <<include "talquistendxiv">>

Briony looks away. "Thanks." <<include "talquistendxiv">>

Briony looks at you, surprised, before a sunny smile splits across her face. "Thank you, <<c firstname>>," she says softly. "That… that means a lot." She laughs and brushes her hand against the corner of her eye, feigning dust. "Makes me feel not quite so… lost." <<include "talquistendxiv">>

Red runs a hand through his hair, then lets out a nervous laugh. "Oh, me? Fine, just fine," he says in a overly-jaunty voice. "Just, er, feeling slightly overwhelmed. I knew what I was getting into when I signed up, but this is all a bit more <i>action</i> than I'm used to. It all moves pretty fast, doesn't it? I can handle the odd ruin caving in on my head, or a rampaging spirit showing up because someone smudged some chalk, but this is… fast-paced." He shakes his head. "I guess the word you could use is <i>frazzled</i>? I'm frazzled. One of the four greatest religious leaders in the world aside from the Autarch is actually a Faceless Lord. If this weren't the fifth and final one, I'd wonder who else was. And I had to watch you fight a man wielding a giant mace the size of a pumpkin, bare-handed. And this city is full of slaves, Diminished slaves, and <i>prostitutes</i>—" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"What, it\'s the prostitutes that bother you the most?"' 'wellitsprostitutesbother'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You didn\'t need to worry about me. As you can see, I handled myself just fine."' 'youdidntneedworryhandledmyselfjustfine'>><<setcourage +1>><<setloyal -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Calm down. Breathe. It\'s all going to be okay."' 'calmdownbreatheitsallokay'>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Yes, this can all get a bit much."' 'yesthiscanallgetabitmuch'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Ayla, on your other side, snickers. "You wouldn't believe how many times he got <i>solicited</i>—" Red sends her a withering glare. "We swore we would never speak of that," he says in a wounded voice. "Especially not to <<c firstname>>." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Why especially not to me?"' 'whyespeciallynottomeredglare'>><<if $redromanceflag gte 6>><<set $redromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Tell me more, Ayla."' 'tellmemoreaylaredglare'>><<setayla +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I missed you guys."' 'imissedyouguysredglare'>><<setred +1>><<setayla +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

<<nobr>><<if $redromanceflag gte 6>> "Because you're the commanding officer of this mission," Red says, far too quickly and smoothly for it to be the full truth. "And it would look unprofessional. Being propositioned by—workers of the night. So let's drop the subject. Forever." <br><br> <<include "talquistendxiv">> <<else>> "I don't know," Red says miserably. "It's not something one wants to go on and on about." <br><br> "Well, you're the one who brought it up." <br><br> "I know. You think I'm not kicking myself for that? I'm kicking myself for that." <br><br> <<include "talquistendxiv">> <</if>><</nobr>>

She holds up her hands. "Sorry, that's all you get. I don't know if I want to fuck with an Archmage." "Ah, so my title <i>is</i> good for something. I knew all those years of hard work would pay off." <<include "talquistendxiv">>

He gives you a crooked smile. "We missed you, too, <<c halfname2>>." <<nobr>><<if $redromanceflag gte 6>> He looks at you quite intently for a moment, then looks away again. "And, er, I know this doesn't matter at the moment, but I just thought I'd say—you look nice. Ferocious, but... you know, beautiful. So in case you ever worry that being bruised and bloodied detracts from your general look—it doesn't." He gives you a sheepish grin that makes him look like a teenager. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "talquistendxiv">>

<<nobr>><<if $wyvernoutcome is "lost">> He sends you a wry look. "Really? Because I definitely watched you get turned into a stone statue today, so…" <br><br> You thump your chest. "But I'm still alive and breathing." <br><br> He sighs with something like resigned defeat. "Well, I can't deny that." <<elseif $brionyoutcome is "lost">> He sends you a wry look. "Really? Because I definitely watched you get your clock cleaned by that pink-haired warrior over there. She seems very nice, by the way. Very… effervescent." <br><br> "Not to be rude, but I'm just letting you know that I can hear you," Briony says from the front, pointing to her half-pointed ears. "Elvish hearing, and all that. But carry on saying nice things about me." <br><br> Red turns to you sheepishly. "At least we've made a new ally." <<elseif $redromanceflag gte 6>> For some reason, Red blushes darkly: he seems preoccupied by some hidden thought for a moment before he manages: "Yes, I saw that. Er. You handling yourself. You… fought very well." Then he clears his throat as Ayla snickers. <<else>> Red smiles wryly. "Yes, I suppose you did. Still, I can't help but worry. It's in my nature." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "talquistendxiv">>

Red opens his mouth to say something, then shuts it again. Then he takes a deep, steadying breath and says, "You're right. I'm sure it'll all be fine. It's just… a lot to process." <<include "talquistendxiv">>

Red nods. "I'm glad you think so," he half-mutters. "I was beginning to think nothing ever fazed you." <<include "talquistendxiv">>

Ayla blinks at you, as if surprised you'd be concerned about her feelings. "I'm all right," she says finally, looking away and tucking her quarterstaff close against her chest. "I'm not the one who was duking it out in the stadium all day. Those were some tough fights to watch." She shrugs. "Other than that, not much else on my mind." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Do you think we can take the Faceless Lord down?"' 'doyouthinkwecantakefacelesslorddown'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"What do you think of the Sponsor being the Western Hierophant?"' 'whatdoyouthinkofsponsorbeingwesternhierophant'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Where\'s the Heth Macoll Thieves Guild?"' 'whereshethmacollthievesguild'>><</link>></li> </ul>

She nods. "We took down Quiial, didn't we? This <i>muti's</i> not going to be anything compared to a living nightmare." That's… actually a good point. <<include "aylaglancesadds">>

Ayla shrugs. "Always thought there was something kind of strange going on, with all the blood sacrifices in the church. Doesn't really surprise me. Demons and church leaders… already pretty much the same thing, in my book." <<include "aylaglancesadds">>

Ayla shrugs, looking vaguely irritated. "Took off at the first sign of trouble," she says. "Didn't want anything to do with anything once Halek started going—you know. Cowards, the bunch of them." <<include "aylaglancesadds">>

Then she glances at you, hesitating, before she adds: "What about you? You doing good?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I\'m fine. Never been better."' 'imfineneverbetteraylathanks'>><<setayla +2>><<setcourage +1>><<if $aylaromanceflag gte 6>><<set $ayalromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'m tired. I can\'t wait to go home and sleep."' 'imtiredicantwaitgohomeandsleep'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I feel... pretty disturbed. So much perverse stuff is going on here."' 'ifeelprettydisturbedsoperversestuff'>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'m a little sore. Maybe if someone helped me limber up later tonight..." <b>[INNUENDO]</b>' 'idfeelbetterifigotkissaylaflirt'>><<set $aylaromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Her lips quirk slightly. "Good on you. You're made of tough stuff, <<c surname>>." She punches your shoulder lightly, affectionately. <<include "talquistendxiv">>

Ayla nods. "Just a few more fights left, and then we can leave this place behind us," she says gruffly. It's about as close as she can get to a comforting tone. <<include "talquistendxiv">>

She nods. "I guess I get that. Hierophants turning out to be possessed, slaves being taken and abused…" She shrugs. "Just gotta shove it down and focus on what's next." <<include "talquistendxiv">>

Ayla double-takes, then flushes darkly. "Who, Staghead?" she asks, her voice acerbic. But she steadfastly avoids your gaze, grumbling to herself. <<include "talquistendxiv">>

"I'm… fine," Halek says, his voice less strained but his face still pale and wan. He runs the back of his hand across his eyes and says, "I've never… experienced this sensation before. Being on the brink of the blood-rage, but able to retain my thoughts. It's kind of a miracle, but I feel like death itself." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Are you sure it\'s safe to keep the collar on, in your state? We don\'t want to push you too far."' 'areyousurecollaronstatepush'>><<setloyal +1>><<setcompassionate +1>><<sethalek +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Well, keep it together until we can kill the Faceless Lord."' 'wellkeepittogetheruntilwekillfacelesslord'>><<setloyal -1>><<setcompassionate -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Just focus on pleasant things. Puppies. Kittens."' 'justfocuspleasantthingspuppieskittens'>><<sethalek +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I still think that thing\'s unnatural."' 'istillthinkthingsunnaturalhalek'>><<sethalek -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Halek shakes his head abruptly. "It's better to have it on," he raps out. "I don't even want to think about where we'd be if I didn't have it. This Hunter thing can be such a pain in the ass." <<include "halekregainfocus">>

Halek salutes sarcastically: at least he can still manage that. "Aye-aye, captain," he says sardonically. <<include "halekregainfocus">>

Halek grunts. "Food. Naps." <<include "halekregainfocus">>

Halek just grunts. <<include "halekregainfocus">>

Silence falls between you for a moment as Halek regroups his focus and control. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"How long do you think the Hierophant has been possessed?"' 'howlonghierophantpossessed'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Do you think the Hierophant was possessed unwillingly, or could he have made a willing pact with the Endarkened?"' 'doyouthinkhierophantpossessedunwittingly'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"How does this binding ritual work?"' 'howdoesbindingritualwork'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Halek shrugs. "My guess is years," he says. "Long enough to implement the whole blood ritual, animal sacrifice idea in the Church." You shake your head. "And no one suspected a thing." "That's how demons work," Halek says seriously, his expression grave. "The most powerful ones, anyway. They don't often risk outright attacks. They like to get in under your skin. Make you question everything and everyone around you—even yourself." <<include "talquistendxiv">>

It's not uncommon, you know, for people to fall in league with demons through foolish bargains and temptations of power, knowledge, wealth, or even pleasure. Even though the Hierophant is originally a Norm, he could have found ways to contact a Faceless Lord. Or he could have been taken against his will. Halek shakes his head. "No way to tell. If it were a regular demon, I'd be able to say one way or another: typically the host soul tends to struggle, to cry out against the demon's influence. But with a Faceless Lord, all bets are off. Its reach is so insidious that vessels might not even know it's there, controlling their every action. Their hold on the mortal soul is that great. So I couldn't say for sure." <<include "talquistendxiv">>

Halek shakes his head. "We can talk about it in detail after we get out of here," he says. "But to break it down to its barest bones, it involves drawing a circle around the demon, sort of like how you draw rune-circles to summon spirits, or confine things—like the ward circle that encloses this building." He gestures at the walls. "Only our circles are invisible, cast out from us like nets made of wind. And there's something to do with rhythms, the vibrations of our hearts, locking that with the demon's—" He shakes his head. "It's complicated. Anyway, I need all my concentrate to drag that demon out of its host and hold it, so don't jostle me or anything unless it's absolutely necessary. And I'll need to sneak up on it: if the little weasel sees me coming, it'll flee before I ever get a chance to trap it." "Sounds complex," you note. Halek shakes his head again. "You have no idea. It's not something that's often done, and for a demon of this magnitude, you usually want a team of three or more to attempt it. That's safest, anyway." At your look, he adds, "But it <i>can</i> be done with one." "And if not by the sol of the Reach, then by who?" Ayla mutters to herself. Halek grimaces, but the resigned look on his face indicates weary agreement. <<include "talquistendxiv">>

<<nobr>><<if settings.music is true>><<audio ":playing" fadeoverto 10 0>><</if>><</nobr>>Finally, you reach what Briony says are Tovrik's chambers, meeting about a dozen of the other gladiators outside his door. No servants, guards, or otherwise come to confront you, and the building is eerily silent and still. It seems the gladiators' stealthy coordinated takedown has worked… for now. <<nobr>><<if $haveweapon is true>> A gladiator you don't recognize comes forward, proffering your weapons, gear, and other belongings. "We found these in the armory, <<c gladiatortitle>>. Thought you'd need them." <br><br> You nod, taking back your items. "Thank you." <br><br> <</if>> <<if $natheoutcome is "won">> Suddenly, Briony catches sight of a face in the crowd and starts forward. "Nathe!" <br><br> The thin Elven gladiator looks wan, bruised, and defeated in the back of the crowd, but he gives Briony a tired smile. "Briony. I'm glad to see you're all right." <br><br> She hurtles forward to fling her arms around him, murmuring tearfully into his shoulder, while Staghead, leading the pack of other warriors, explains, "We found him in the dungeon, and not a moment too soon. They were getting ready to drain his body of blood for the dawn sacrifice for St. Cecily. Already roughed him up pretty bad." He shakes his head. "They… tortured him. He probably won't ever walk the same again." <br><br> "Thank the gods you're alive," Briony says, hugging him again. You hope she's mostly heedless to what Staghead is saying. She looks her friend up and down, then frowns at his bandaged hand, which is clutching his huge mace. "Are you all right?" <br><br> "Oh, yes," Nathe says, though in truth, he looks terrible: stubble lines his jaw, and he looks wasted away, his neck a rainbow of bruises. You can't imagine how the rest of him looks. But there's a grim, resolute smile on his face. "I'm well enough to fight, anyway." <br><br> Then he looks at you. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"...No hard feelings?"' 'nohardfeelingsnathe'>><<setbriony -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'m glad you\'re alive."' 'imgladyourealivenathe'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'m sorry, about before."' 'natheapology'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I wanted to help you, but I had a mission: to take down this arena. I had to do my duty."' 'natheapology'>><<setloyal +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Nod in acknowledgment.' 'younodinacknowledgment'>><</link>></li> </ul> <<elseif $natheoutcome is "lost" or $natheoutcome is "forfeit">> Suddenly, Briony's face brightens as she catches sight of a face in the crowd and shoulders forward. "Nathe!" <br><br> He smiles back, hefting the enormous mace in his hand. "Glad to see you're all right, Briony. And you, too, $falsename." <br><br> She jogs up to meet him. "It's actually $firstname, but we'll talk about that later. Everything went according to plan?" <br><br> Nathe nods, though he shoots you a curious glance. "It did, and everyone's in position now. As we expected, we met some opposition from Lor and her faction of fighters, and they ultimately refused to stand down... but they're taken care of now." <br><br> Briony shoots an inquiring look towards Mountain Jackal, who sneers and shrugs slightly. "We gave 'em a chance, and they didn't take it. Shows <i>them</i> what happens when you side with fucking slavers." <br><br> There's a slightly heavy, ominous pause as you contemplate what that means, but then Nathe forges past it and adds, "Everything else went smoothly. As soon as the ward falls, we'll be able to evacuate quickly and transport those who are too injured to move or fight to the safehouse." <br><br> "Safehouse?" You glance at Briony. <br><br> "An inn near the Fountain Rock," she explains. "We have a contact there, a very powerful man. If we can just get everyone there in one piece, it'll act as a sanctuary—at least for a time, until everyone can figure out what to do or where to go. But first, we've got to get these spellmarks <i>off</i>." <br><br> <<include "talquistendxv">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Nathe's lips twitch, and after a moment, he simply looks away. <<include "talquistendxv">>

Nathe nods curtly, but says nothing more. <<include "talquistendxv">>

Nathe nods curtly. "You're forgiven," he says, his voice very quiet. "Staghead explained who you are and what you're doing here. I understand that you did what you thought was right." But he doesn't move any closer to you, nor take your hand in the conciliatory gesture of friendship Elves tend to make. Still, it's something, at least. <<include "talquistendxv">>

Nathe's lips tighten, but he reluctantly nods back. <<include "talquistendxv">>

"What's the plan?" Ayla asks then, jerking her head towards Tovrik's rooms. "Just bust in and kill the fucker?" "No," Briony says quickly. "Though I'd <i>love</i> to. But if we're somehow wrong, and Tovrik isn't the keystone—that's the central part of the spell, for anyone who doesn't know, the thing that makes it work—then we need to get the identity of the real one out of him before we kill him." There's a weighty pause at that. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "talquistendxvi">><</link>></center>

"You sure we can't just smash it out of him?" Staghead asks gruffly. "Well, as far as I can tell, there are three scenarios here," Red puts in, ever helpful. "Scenario One: Tovrik is the keystone, and killing him undoes the spell. Scenario Two: he's the keystone, but the spell can't be lifted just by killing him—it can only be lifted if he wills it, a precaution they might have taken to prevent assassination attempts on his life. Or they were really dumb and made it easy for us, leading to Scenario One. In the case of Scenario Two, though, killing him immediately would be really, really bad—because he can't lift the spell if he's dead, so then we would just be stuck with it, permanently, until we managed to untangle it ourselves." "Scenario Three is that someone else is the keystone, and only Tovrik knows who it is," Briony finishes. "We've searched every inch of this place, dug as deep as we could, and couldn't find any evidence that anyone else would know about it. So we need to get that knowledge out of him before anyone kills him." "Well, let's not stand around talking about it," Staghead says impatiently. He's wearing his deer skull again, and the antlers look sharp enough to gore. "Let's go snare the son of a bitch." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "talquistendxvii">><</link>></center>

It's almost too easy, bursting into Tovrik's chambers and storming his bedroom with a veritable platoon of gladiators at your beck and call. You whirl in, too fast for him to react, and before he can speak, he's been upturned onto the floor with your $mainweapon pointed at his head. Briony plants a boot on his throat and <i>presses</i>, hard enough that he doesn't have the breath to speak the word that will activate the wards and blind you all with pain. Gonturan blazes like a line of white fire in her hand. The arena-master stares up at you with bugged eyes, choking and gargling like a baby with spittle running down its chin. It's clear in his eyes that he can't comprehend what's going on. <<include "tovrikprepsection">>

<<set $tovrikconvince to 0>><<set $tovrikturn to 0>><<include "tovrikinterrogate">>

<<if $tovrikturn is 4>> <<include "tovrikinterrogateend">> <<else>> <ul class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("shoutinhisfacehowwards")>><li><<link 'Shout in his face. "<b>HOW DO WE LIFT THE WARDS?!</b>"' 'shoutinhisfacehowwards'>><<set $tovrikturn += 1>><<setcourage +1>><<if $courage gte 50>><<set $tovrikconvince += 1>><</if>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("threatenhimquietlyingreatdetail")>><li><<link 'Threaten him quietly and in great detail.' 'threatenhimquietlyingreatdetail'>><<set $tovrikturn += 1>><<setcompassionate -1>><<if $compassionate lt 40>><<set $tovrikconvince += 1>><</if>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("speaktovrikpassively")>><li><<link 'Speak to him persuasively.' 'speaktovrikpassively'>><<set $tovrikturn += 1>><<setcharisma +1>><<if $charisma gte 50>><<set $tovrikconvince += 1>><</if>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("speaktovriklogically")>><li><<link 'Speak to him logically.' 'speaktovriklogically'>><<set $tovrikturn += 1>><<setintelligence +1>><<if $intelligence gte 50>><<set $tovrikconvince += 1>><</if>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("punchtovrikinfacebreaknose")>><li><<link 'Punch him in the face and break his nose.' 'punchtovrikinfacebreaknose'>><<set $tovrikturn += 1>><<setstrength +1>><<setcompassionate -1>><<set $tovrikconvince -= 1>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("slaptovrikhardbusinessdaze")>><li><<link 'Slap him, hard enough to show that you mean business, but not hard enough to daze him.' 'slaptovrikhardbusinessdaze'>><<set $tovrikturn += 1>><<setstrength +1>><<if $strength gte 50>><<set $tovrikconvince += 1>><</if>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("pleawithhimappealtosenseofempathy")>><li><<link 'Plea with him and appeal to his sense of empathy.' 'pleawithhimappealtosenseofempathy'>><<set $tovrikturn += 1>><<setcompassionate +1>><<if $compassionate gt 60>><<set $tovrikconvince += 1>><</if>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("ripinformationfrommindmagic")>><li><<link 'Rip the information from his mind using your magic.' 'ripinformationfrommindmagic'>><<set $tovrikturn += 1>><<if $psionic gte 50>><<set $tovrikconvince += 3>><</if>><</link>></li><</if>> </ul> <</if>>

<<nobr>><<if $courage gte 50>> The blood drains from Tovrik's face as your red-faced screaming finally alerts him to what's happening. He struggles against Briony's hold for a moment, choking, the fear evident in his eyes. <<else>> However, Tovrik looks simply confused by your yelling. It must be hard to process all the noise while he's being choked out by Briony. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "tovrikinterrogate">>

You lean in close and paint, in great detail, exactly what you're going to do to Tovrik if he doesn't tell you what you want to know. You present very vivid pictures of pain, and entrails, and other brutal plans in store for him. <<nobr>><<if $compassionate lt 40>> You can tell your threats work, because tears appear in the corners of Tovrik's eyes, and he squirms in fear. <<else>> You can tell your threats don't have the intended effect, though, because Tovrik just gives you a kind of sneer. Even Staghead and Mountain Jackal are giving you strange, skeptical looks. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "tovrikinterrogate">>

"Look," you begin. "All of your staff members are dead. Your guards, your servants, everyone who kept this place running—they're all dead. Literally no one stands between you and these angry, well-honed, sharpened gladiators. Even if you manage to activate the wards and escape—where are you going to go? Who's going to help you? Everyone is <i>dead</i>. But if you tell us what we want to know, we'll let you go. We've had our fill of bloodshed." <<nobr>><<if $charisma gte 50>> Your voice comes out clear and earnest, and you can see in Tovrik's eyes that he's beginning to consider some of what you say. <<else>> But your voice comes out shaky, uncertain and false, and Tovrik essentially ignores you as he scrabbles desperately at Briony's ankle. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "tovrikinterrogate">>

You outline all of Tovrik's options, proving with what you think is intellectual deftness that telling the truth is really his only way out of this. You keep emotion out of it and lay it out in cold, hard fact: all your group wants to know is how to end the spell warding the arena. If he's the one who's in control of it, all he has to do is bring the barrier down and you all can leave him in peace. <<nobr>><<if $intelligence gte 50>> Surprisingly, your words seem to have some kind of effect, though Tovrik can't get enough breath to speak. <<else>> Tovrik sputters: he clearly doesn't believe you. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "tovrikinterrogate">>

Tovrik howls in pain as your fist collides with his face. The crunch of cartilage is extremely satisfying under your hand, but then Tovrik slumps back, cross-eyed and looking dazed. Oops. <<include "tovrikinterrogate">>

<<nobr>><<if $strength gte 50>> Tovrik gasps and sputters, but your slap clearly has its intended effect. He gazes up at you, blinking furiously and clearly not wanting to experience any more pain. <<else>> However, you misjudge your own strength, and you hit Tovrik so hard you nearly break his neck. You spend the next several seconds trying to revive him and wondering if you'll need smelling salts. Oops. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "tovrikinterrogate">>

"Please," you say. "We've all had enough of this—I'm sure you have, too. It can't be what you envisioned in life, day in and day out watching people fight and bleed. We just want to go home to our families. Our children miss their parents. We miss our siblings. Our friends. Our spouses." <<nobr>><<if $compassionate gt 60>> You can't say for sure, but you think your plea might actually be working. There's something in Tovrik's eyes: something like guilt and fear. <<else>> But it's a tough thing to reach a man so hardened by the work he chose: if your words have any effect on Tovrik at all, he doesn't show it. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "tovrikinterrogate">>

<<nobr>><<if $psionic gte 50>> It's easy, finding what Tovrik is so desperately trying to keep from you: like the obvious lumps in a mattress when a child tries to hide something in his bed. You grasp the information and tear it out of Tovrik's mind, and he <i>screams</i>—the sound is tortured and wet, and blood pours out of his nose and ears. <br><br> "Stop!" he screams, before you get a chance to filter through the tumorous mass of knowledge. "I'll tell you what you want to know! Just please—stop!" <<include "brionyglance">> <<else>> But it's too delicate of a job, beyond your capabilities. Your mind flails against his, but you get nothing. <<include "tovrikinterrogate">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<if $tovrikconvince gte 3>> <<include "tovriksuccess">> <<else>> <<include "tovrikfail">> <</if>>

<br>Briony increases the pressure on his throat in response, growling. "Tell us something, you fucker!" she says viciously. "I <i>know</i> you're not that brave. If you don't start talking, I'm going to rip your balls off and feed them to you!" "All right," Tovrik chokes out finally, desperately fighting for breath. "All right, fine, you crazy <i>sharmooti</i>—just let me breathe! <i>I'll talk</i>!" Briony glances at you. You nod and keep your $mainweapon at the ready. Briony releases the man, and for a moment he flounders against the floor, clutching his neck as he struggles for air. When he finally is able to speak, he looks up at you with hate in his eyes… and then he speaks a word. Your head explodes in pain. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "tovrikfaili">><<sethealth -10>><</link>></center>

You are writhing, trapped in a cage of lightning, sinking into a pit of acid and magma. You are screaming, your throat filling with the metallic taste of blood—and all around you are answering screams of agony. You are pinned to the floor like an insect. It feels as if your guts are strewn across the ground. You can't see. <ul class="choices"> <<if $belief is "oldfaith">><li><<link 'Please, gods, let it end!' 'tovrikfailii'>><<setfaith +1>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $belief is "one-god">><li><<link 'Please, God, let it end!' 'tovrikfailii'>><<setfaith +1>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link 'Where are Red, Ayla, and Halek?!' 'whereareredaylahalektovrikfail'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Are you going to die here?' 'tovrikfailii'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'This is worse than the thoret.' 'tovrikfailii'>><</link>></li> </ul>

You try to look around for them, but your whole body is wracked with pain. You seize up, and your vision goes white. <<include "tovrikfailii">>

And then, all at once, the pain stops. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "tovrikfailiii">><</link>></center>

<<set $tovrikkill to true>>After several shuddering moments, you finally manage to open your eyes and look around. Your vision swims in front of you like an unsteady film of light and color. Tovrik is dead, his face held in the rictus of terror while he clutches at his own throat, his skin blue and mottled. Ayla stands over him with her quarterstaff, breathing heavily. Halek moves over to the corpse as Red helps you and then the other gladiators up. Several people leave the room to throw up, and Briony sags against the wall, pale and trembling. "She sucked the air out of his lungs," Red says softly, glancing at Ayla, whose expression has gone hard and dead now. She aims a swift kick to Tovrik's ribs, her foot impacting with a dull thud like she'd kicked a bag of sand. "Suffocated him. She had to do it—to end your suffering." You blow out a shaky breath. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"She did the right thing."' 'aylabastard'>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setayla +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Thank you, Ayla. You saved us all."' 'aylabastard'>><<setayla +3>><<setloyal +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I wish there could have been another way."' 'iwishaylacouldhavefoundanotherway'>><<setayla -3>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"We fucked up. We shouldn\'t have let him get the jump on us like that."' 'wefuckedupweshouldnthavelethimjumplikethat'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Is everyone okay?"' 'iseveryoneokayaylareturn'>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Ayla gives you a nod. "You all right?" <<include "checkyourself">>

You check yourself all over. "Fine, I think." She nods again, then spits on Tovrik's corpse. "Bastard deserved worse." <<nobr>><<if $aylaromanceflag gte 5>> Then she moves closer to you, her face softening into a look of concern and worry. "I thought… when you were screaming like that, I just… lost it. I had to make it stop." Her hands twist against her quarterstaff, wringing its neck with white knuckles. "…Don't ever do that to me again." <br><br> You offer her a weak smile. "I'll do my best." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "tovrikfailiv">>

"Well, there wasn't," Ayla says then, her voice hard. "If he'd kept it up, your brains would have exploded. I didn't have any other choice." She spits on Tovrik's corpse. "Fucker deserved worse, anyway." <<include "tovrikfailiv">>

"Forget about that," Ayla says. "Are you all right?" <<include "checkyourself">>

"I'm fine, I think," Briony says shakily, putting a hand against her head. She looks around and checks on the others: Mountain Jackal has disappeared, Staghead is in a fury, <<nobr>><<if $natheoutcome is not "killed">> Nathe is folded against the ground and staring blankly ahead, <</if>><</nobr>> and the other gladiators seem to be recovering their senses slowly, helping each other up. "We're all alive, anyway, which is more than I would have expected. Thank you, Ayla." The Wind-Mage nods. <<include "tovrikfailiv">>

<<achieve "achieve_killtovrik">><<notify_achievement "The Odds Were Not In Your Favor" "The Scales of Fate tipped against Tovrik, and he was killed.">> "But now what do we do about the wards?" Halek asks, glancing at Tovrik's dead body. "Are they still there?" You feel around with your magic for a moment. "Yes, unfortunately." There's a collective groan around the room before Briony brightens suddenly and rasps, massaging her throat: "Wait—check his body! He always carries his red book with him: the one that holds all the data about the arena and its gladiators. Maybe it has a clue about the wards?" You hobble over to Tovrik's corpse and flick open one side of his vest, drawing a thick, red leather-bound handbook from the pocket closest to his heart. Red, Ayla, Halek, and Briony crowd around you as you open it to a random page and begin reading. <i><b>22 Leph. Shipment of 13 arrived today. 3 have potential, 8 are destined to be fodder, 2 I'm unsure. Names and statistics below.</b></i> You scan down the list, but it's all data entry, heights and weights and other little tidbits. You flip around for a bit more before Briony says, "Wait—try and find my page. Maybe it says something about my past, where I come from." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"No. We need to focus on getting out of here."' 'noneedfocusgettingoutbriony'>><<setloyal +1>><<setcompassionate -1>><<setbriony -3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You can look for yourself later."' 'youcanlookyourselflater'>><<setbriony -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Riffle around for her name.' 'riflearoundforhername'>><<setbriony +3>><<setloyal -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Briony frowns, but says nothing else. <<include "tovrikfailv">>

She sighs. "All right, fine." <<include "tovrikfailv">>

It's hard to find the relevant page, given how many times Briony appears in the book and the numerous records of fights she's been in, but finally you find an entry detailing the day she arrived at the arena. Unfortunately, from all you can glimpse, it only corroborates what Briony has said: she was found on the southern coast, near Conte, in the remains of a shipwreck, clutching only her sword, Gonturan, and showing the classic symptoms of amnesia. Tovrik makes several detailed notes regarding her power level, obvious superstrength, as well as her… physique. Briony tears the page out of the book and stuffs it in her pocket. "Pig." <<include "tovrikfailv">>

<<nobr>><<set $readernumber to 0>><<set $reader to "">><<set $readernumber to random(1,5)>>"Is there anything else in there, <<c firstname>>?" Halek asks. <<if $readernumber is 1>> <<set $reader to "mc">> <<elseif $readernumber is 2>> <<set $reader to "ayla">> <<elseif $readernumber is 3>> <<set $reader to "red">> <<elseif $readernumber is 4>> <<set $reader to "briony">> <<else>> <<set $reader to "halek">> <</if>><</nobr>> You flip around for several more minutes, but it takes some time before <<nobr>><<if $reader is "mc">> you notice a pattern in most of the entries. <br><br> "Look at this," you say, pointing. "In all of these 'intake' entries, it's always one Mage who's responsible for putting the spellmark on the new captives—the one that binds them to the wards. All of these other names change over time—the Healers who inspect them for disease, the armorers who give them their clothes and gear—but this one goes back to pretty much the beginning of the book." <br><br> Briony peers around you eagerly. "Who is it?" <br><br> You read the name aloud. "'Thumma.'" <<else>> <<c reader>> points something out to you. <br><br> "Look," <<if $reader is "briony" or $reader is "ayla">> she says. <<else>> he says. <</if>> "In all of these 'intake' entries, it's always one Mage who's responsible for putting the spellmark on the new captives—the one that binds them to the wards. All of these other names change over time—the Healers who inspect them for disease, the armorers who give them their clothes—but this one goes back to pretty much the beginning of the book." <br><br> You frown down at the dizzying pages, covering in sprawling ink. "Who is it?" <br><br> <<c reader>> reads the name out loud. "'Thumma.'" <</if>><</nobr>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "tovrikfailvi">><<if $reader is "mc">><<setintelligence +1>><<else>><<setintelligence -1>><</if>><</link>></center>

That helps you search the book more thoroughly, hunting for any more details on this Thumma. Eventually, you find what you're looking for: she was an early captive of the arena, one of the very first. A talented Binder who was no good at fighting. Apparently Tovrik and the other people in charge of the arena tested some kind of experiment on Thumma, though it's unclear exactly what that experiment was. There are mentions of a 'potion' and obedience, and shortly after that, the first mentions of the arena ward crop up. "It sounds like they gave her some kind of mind-altering potion," Red says slowly, his eyes skimming the pages at breakneck speed. "Some kind of variant of a love potion, one of those things that make you very happy and compliant. It kind of seems like they were hoping it could be given to every gladiator, to ensure their absolute loyalty and prevent their escape—but something about it wasn't feasible. Maybe it took away their fighting ability, because they got so… I don't know, dopey, or lovesick, or had to be commanded to do things. Anyway, it seems Thumma was their only test subject, and they forced her to create the wards. And… she's been here ever since." Briony turns abruptly to some of the younger gladiators. "Someone go find Thumma," she says. "And <i>don't </i> hurt her. If she struggles, just—pick her up!" <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "tovrikfailvii">><</link>></center>

A few of the gladiators nod and trot away; others, having finally regained the strength to stand, begin to roll Tovrik's body in a rug, murmuring the rites of the dead—though these have been altered to condemn his soul to Hael. Shortly after they've stuffed the body into his vast wardrobe, Thumma appears at the doorway, flanked by two tall and grim-faced warriors. <<include "thumma">>

<br>"All right," Tovrik rasps finally, desperately fighting for breath. "All right—I'll tell you! Just don't kill me!" <<include "brionyglance">>

Briony glances at you. You nod and keep your $mainweapon at the ready. Briony releases the man, and for a moment he flounders against the floor, clutching his neck as he struggles for air. When he finally is able to speak, he rasps, "Spare me. It was the Sponsor—he had me under his control, too." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I\'ll spare you if you tell us how to lift the spell."' 'brionyglancei'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Don\'t give me that shit. You did this of your own free will."' 'brionyglancei'>><<setcompassionate -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You\'re not in a position to bargain. Start talking, or Staghead here starts stabbing."' 'brionyglancei'>><<setcompassionate -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

He flinches. "…Fine. Thumma, the Binder with the red hair. She's the one who made the ward-spell, wove it around the arena. She's the one you want, if you want to get rid of it for good. I can control it, but she's the only one who can lift it." Briony draws Gonturan abruptly and holds it high over her head. Tovrik falls back with a cry, cringing away from the sword's blade as it begins to drip with liquid flame. "You're a liar!" Briony shouts. "Why would you <i>ever</i> give control of the wards to one of your bloody Diminished slaves?! Why would she <i>ever</i> go along with what you said—and why would you trust her? You're lying!" Tovrik writhes pitifully on the ground. "I'm not!" he cries. "We knew she would be loyal, always loyal!" Briony slams her foot down on the ground, hard enough to crack and splinter the stone tiles. "<i>Why</i>?" "We tested a potion on her!" Tovrik shouts. He closes his eyes, as if expecting the death-blow, but Briony doesn't move. "She was one of our first captives. We did an experiment, used an untested tonic, long before the creation of the wards. A potion that would make her always obedient, always compliant. And it worked. Because of it, she made the wards for us. And we knew she was trustworthy because there is no cure. She's been that way for years." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"What kind of potion was it?"' 'whatkindpotionwasit'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"So, what, some kind of mind control potion? Why didn\'t you use this potion on us?"' 'whydidntyouusepotiononus'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"So make her lift the spell."' 'somakeherliftthespell'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"How could there be no cure?"' 'howcouldtherebenocure'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Tovrik winces. "A love potion. Something like it." Ayla makes a disgusted noise. "So, what, she thinks she's in love with <i>you</i>?" He looks away, and that's all the answer you need. <<include "brionyglanceii">>

Tovrik shakes his head, still cowering. "There were side effects. She was too different, too… <i>empty</i>. She was no good at fighting. And we couldn't mass-produce the potion, anyway. The process of making it was too complicated, too costly." <<include "brionyglanceii">>

Tovrik shakes his head. "I can't," he says. "That was one of the first things she was told: the command was ingrained in her. Never lift the spell. Not even for me." He glances around, his eyes so wide and furtive the whites show. "In case this exact thing ever happened." <<include "brionyglanceii">>

"It was an experimental thing," Tovrik repeats. "The man who created it wasn't able to recreate it—and then he died quickly after. There isn't anything else like it in existence." <<include "brionyglanceii">>

Unbidden, Halek speaks up. "He's telling the truth," he says quietly. "Or at least believes he is. Hunters can always tell." Briony turns. "Someone go and find Thumma. Do <i>not</i> hurt her." A silence falls as a few of the gladiators slip out of the room to find the Binder responsible for your confinement. In the meanwhile, Tovrik looks around. "Are you going to let me go?" he asks, his eyes wild. "You see it—I can't do anything, now. I swear, I'll… I'll leave the city, I'll never step foot in an arena again. I'll lead a good life. I'll tend goats!" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Step aside and let the other gladiators kill him.' 'stepasidelettheothergladiatorskillhim'>><<setreputation +1>><<setbriony +3>><<setayla +1>><<set $tovrikkill to true>><<setcompassionate -5>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Kill him yourself.' 'killtovrikyourself'>><<setreputation +2>><<setcompassionate -10>><<setbriony +1>><<setayla +3>><<set $tovrikkill to true>><<setloyal -3>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Sigh and take a step back. "You\'re free to go." You can\'t stomach much more senseless killing. ' 'sightakestepbackfreetogostomache'>><<setbriony -5>><<setred +3>><<setayla -2>><<setcompassionate +8>><<setreputation +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Threaten him. "If I <i>ever</i> catch wind of you so much as <i>littering</i>, I\'ll visit you in the night and cut your balls off."' 'threatenhimifevercatchwind'>><<setcompassionate +4>><<setred +3>><<setbriony -1>><<setayla -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Throw him in the dungeons. Whatever happens to him, happens.' 'throwtovrikdungeonswhateverhappenshappens'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

<<achieve "achieve_killtovrik">><<notify_achievement "The Odds Were Not In Your Favor" "The Scales of Fate tipped against Tovrik, and he was killed.">>You turn away as Staghead steps grimly forward, then Mountain Jackal, then all the others. Briony watches with her arms tightly folded as Tovrik tries to squirm away, tries to scream—but no sound can cover up the horrible <i>squelch</i> of blood and shattered skull as Staghead raises a brutal-looking cudgel high above his head and then brings it down with all his might. Tovrik doesn't stop breathing right away, but he doesn't scream as the rest of the gladiators beat him to death. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "stepasidegladiatorskilli">><</link>></center>

Red's face is faintly green beneath his dark tanned skin. "Well," he manages, swallowing dryly. "That was—that was something." "Bastard deserved it, and then some," Ayla says, considerably more cheerfully. <<include "brionyglanceiii">>

<<achieve "achieve_killtovrik">><<notify_achievement "The Odds Were Not In Your Favor" "The Scales of Fate tipped against Tovrik, and he was killed.">> <<nobr>><<if $mainweapon is "sword">> You raise your sword, look into Tovrik's eyes, and then drive your blade into his stomach. <<elseif $mainweapon is "dagger">> You raise your dagger, look into Tovrik's eyes, and then lean forward and open a bloody line at his throat. <<elseif $mainweapon is "gun">> You raise your gun, look into Tovrik's eyes, and then fire. <<else>> You raise your bow, look into Tovrik's eyes, and then fire. <</if>> <<if $compassionate gt 50>> It's a quick and merciful death—perhaps better than what the foul man deserves, but spilt blood is spilt blood all the same. He's dead now, and that's all that matters. <<else>> It's a slow and painful death, ensuring that he spends his last moments in absolute agony. Exactly what a worm like him deserves. <</if>><</nobr>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "killtovrikyourselfi">><</link>></center>

<<achieve "achieve_sparetovrik">><<notify_achievement "May the Odds Be In Your Favor" "The Scales of Fate tipped favorably for Tovrik, and he was spared.">>Besides, if Jarkyth really does grow stronger from bloodshed, you're not totally sure you want to keep contributing to that. Tovrik looks around in disbelief as the other gladiators all frown at you, some in slow-dawning outrage, others in baffled disbelief. "What—you can't mean it?" You gesture wearily at him. "Get out of here. Don't make me regret my decision." He scrambles to his feet and disappears into the hallway without another word. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "stagheadspeaks">><</link>></center>

"Fuck you, <<c gladiatortitle>>," Staghead says bitterly. "That wasn't your call to make. You didn't spend months under his heel. You only had two fights." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I\'m still an officer of the law. It was my call."' 'stagheadspeaksi'>><<setloyal +5>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Vengeance begets vengeance, Staghead. It\'s better this way."' 'stagheadspeaksi'>><<setcompassionate +5>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"He\'ll meet a bad end, one way or the other. You can\'t run from a past like his."' 'stagheadspeaksi'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You\'re right, I should have asked you all. I\'m sorry."' 'stagheadspeaksi'>><<setreputation -1>><<setcourage -1>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"The Faceless Lord feeds off of violence. I didn\'t want to feed him more than I have to."' 'stagheadspeaksi'>><<setintelligence +2>><</link>></li> </ul>

Red touches your shoulder. "I think you did the right thing," he says gently. "I don't know if <i>I</i> could have done it—but I think it was right." Ayla grunts skeptically. "Hope he never shows up to cause trouble down the line." "He won't," Briony says in a low voice. Her eyes look darker than usual. "I'll make sure of that." <<include "brionyglanceiii">>

<<achieve "achieve_sparetovrik">><<notify_achievement "May the Odds Be In Your Favor" "The Scales of Fate tipped favorably for Tovrik, and he was spared.">>"I won't," Tovrik breathes. "I swear I won't—I'll donate my gold to charities, I'll have children and raise them well, I'll never speak a work against anyone—" You gesture sharply. "Get. Out." He nods, scrambles to his feet, and disappears into the hallway without a glance back. <<include "stagheadspeaks">>

He may rot to death without anyone to find him, he may go free, or anything in between. Whatever happens to him, you'll let fate decide. Tovrik lets out a scream as Staghead and Mountain Jackal grimly seize him under his arms and begin to drag him away. It's a desperate wail, the sound of a child caught in a nightmare from which he can't wake up—but it does little to break the solemn expressions on the other gladiators' faces as they watched him be dragged away. Briony makes a strange, foreign gesture you've never seen before, an aggressive dismissal akin to spitting. "Good riddance. May he rot in Hael, and may the infernal beasts feast on his bones." <<include "brionyglanceiii">>

<<nobr>><<if $tovrikkill is true>> You turn to the others as a lean, craggy-faced warrior rolls up Tovrik's corpse in his rich fur rug, murmuring the rites for the dead. <</if>><</nobr>><ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Touch Briony\'s shoulder. "You\'re trembling. Are you all right?"' 'touchbrionysshoulderyouretremblingareyouallright'>><<if $tovrikkill is true>><<setbriony +3>><<set $brionyromanceflag += 1>><<else>><<setbriony +1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Turn to Halek. "What did you mean, Hunters can always tell the truth?"' 'turntohalekwhatdoyoumeanhuntersalwaystell'>><<sethalek +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Turn to Red, who looks faintly queasy. "Are you okay?"' 'turntoqueasyredfaintly'>><<setred +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Turn to Ayla, watching with hard indifference in her eyes. "All good?"' 'turntoaylaindifferenceeyes'>><<setayla +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

<<nobr>><<if $tovrikkill is true>> She gives you a wan smile. "Yeah. Just—no, it's nothing." She tries to force a more sincere grin, but it just looks like that—forced. Painful. "I'm fine. Thanks, <<c falsename>>. Oh, I mean—<<c firstname>>." <br><br> <<include "brionyglanceiv">> <<elseif $briony lt 50>> She draws a sharp breath, then straightens and brushes her bangs out of her eyes. "Fine," Briony says, putting on a forced smile that she directs at no one in particular. "Just fine. Let's just get this next part over with." <br><br> <<include "brionyglanceiv">> <<else>> She blows out a shaky breath, then brushes the bangs out of her eyes. "I… I almost lost control, just then," she whispers to you, ashen-faced. "Of my magic—my powers. I—it was <i>flowing</i> out of me, like a cup filled with too much wine. Gonturan held me back, acted as a—as a conduit for the power to flow into. But I wanted to… <i>explode</i>, tear him apart, <i>something</i>. It wasn't even anger, it was just—just too much strength in me, all at once, and it needed a way to get out, or it was going to come boiling through my pores like steam." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I know the feeling."' 'iknowthefeelingbrionyyes'>><<setbriony +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Has that ever happened before?"' 'hasthateverhappenedbeforebriony'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Careful. If you lose control, you could bring this whole place down on our heads."' 'carefulifyoulosecontrolbringthiswholeplace'>><<setbriony -3>><<set $brionyromanceflag -= 1>><<setloyal -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You\'re all right now. Just take deep breaths. We\'re here for you."' 'youreallrightnowjusttakedeepbreathswerehere'>><<setbriony +1>><<set $brionyromanceflag += 1>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setloyal +1>><</link>></li> </ul> <</if>><</nobr>>

She gives you an incredulous look. "…You do?" You nod. Sometimes that's what your Words of Power feel like, though not exactly. Briony gives you a small, relieved smile. "It's... good to know I'm not the only one. <i>Really</i> good, to be honest. But we can talk more about that later." <<include "brionyglanceiv">>

She hesitates for a moment. "Once or twice," she says finally, very quietly. "It never came to anything, not then... but it has happened." You watch her, and she avoids your gaze. "I see." <<include "brionyglanceiv">>

She frowns. "I won't. I never have." Her tone is hurt and a little betrayed; she shrinks her shoulders away from you and turns away. <<include "brionyglanceiv">>

You rub her back in soothing circles, and Briony gives you a shy smile. "Thank you," she says, looking considerably calmer after a few moments. "That helps a lot. I think I'll be all right." She sighs and leans against you. "You're the best." <<nobr>> <<if $aylaromanceflag gte 7>> <br><br> You might be imagining it, but Ayla's gaze on the two of you seems hard and unhappy as she watches you comfort Briony. But then she abruptly looks away, shifting from foot to foot uncomfortably. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "brionyglanceiv">>

"I'd really appreciate it if you didn't spread that particular bit of knowledge around," Halek drawls, a little of his usual sardonic demeanor returning. It seems that the Faceless Lord is now far enough away for him to calm down slightly. "It's not something my people like to advertise. Ever. But just as we can sense the vibrations of Endarkened auras—the wrongness of them, how they don't resonate with the fabric of our world, like dissonant notes in a melody—we can also sense the vibrations of people's heartbeats. Aside from, ironically, our own people: other Hunters. But, yes. If you live long enough, you eventually start learning the difference in someone's life rhythms when they're lying and when they're telling the truth." You try desperately to remember if you've ever lied to Halek before. He gives you a thin smile. "Don't worry. I don't take any notice of it anymore, not unless I'm really looking." <<include "brionyglanceiv">>

He gives you a slightly shaky smile. "Fine. I've seen worse before—regrettably. Just thinking about that ward, actually. And that potion. How do you snap someone out of an enchantment that affected them years ago?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"We\'ll get to that when we get to it."' 'brionyglanceiv'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"No point in worrying; we either do it or we don\'t."' 'brionyglanceiv'>><</link>></li> <<if $intelligence gte 50 or $psionic gte 45>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"It depends on if the effect was instantaneous or ongoing."</div>' 'itdependsonifeffectinstantorongoing'>><<setred +1>><<set $redromanceflag +=1>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">"It depends on if the effect was instantaneous or ongoing."</div>'>><</link>><</if>> </ul>

"Though the odds of it being ongoing seem incredibly unlikely," you add. "But there was that fabled 'Tonic of Luck,' wasn't there? And that was something that could be dispelled, even after the user had consumed it at a certain point in the past…" Red frowns. "Right, but that's—you know, metaphysical, slightly quantum, arcanity delivered in the form of a consumable. The vehicle was a potion, but the lode-spell went beyond that—that's how it could be dispelled. But if this is a chemical thing—" "It could be a bewitchment." "But then why use a potion at all? Why not just bewitch her?" "Maybe as a way to cut back on dependency on Enchanters?" "But then you'd have a dependency on Alchemysts, wouldn't you?" "Oh my gods," Ayla interrupts. "Can you please save it on the speculation? You're giving me a headache." <<include "brionyglanceiv">>

She lifts a shoulder in a slight shrug from where she stands by the door. "We're all clear out here," she answers. "No one making a peep in the whole building. As for him"—she glances at the spot that Tovrik used to be in. "I can't abide slavers, myself. I had a…" She pauses. "An <i>encounter</i> with some, when I was a kid. It's how I got these." She shows you some faint but ropy scars on her wrists and ankles, clearly from being bound so tightly her skin was rubbed almost raw. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I\'m so sorry. Are you okay?"' 'imsosorryyouokayayla'>><<setayla +3>><<set $aylaromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Ouch. Those look like they hurt."' 'ouchthoselookliketheyhurt'>><<setayla +1>><<set $aylaromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Why haven\'t you gotten those healed?"' 'whyhaventyougottenthosehealed'>><<setayla -3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"What happened?"' 'whathappenedayla'>><</link>></li> </ul>

She shrugs. "Yeah, fine. I'm made of tougher stuff than that. I'm just saying—if that were me, that fucker would have been swallowing his teeth before he died." <<include "brionyglanceiv">>

She shakes her head. "Nah, not anymore. They look wicked, but I don't feel a thing." She shrugs. "Just a good reminder, when I start to forget. Don't trust anyone." <<include "brionyglanceiv">>

She narrows her eyes at you. "It's a good reminder for me, when I start to forget. Don't trust anyone." <<include "brionyglanceiv">>

She shakes her head. "That's a story for another time. Long story short: if it were me, I would have gutted that fucker like a fish." <<include "brionyglanceiv">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "brionyglancev">><</link>></center>

Thumma arrives then, flanked by the same two serious-faced gladiators. <<include "thumma">>

<<nobr>> <<set $convincethumma to 0>> <<set $thummaturn to 0>> <<set $goddessdivine to false>> <</nobr>>You recognize her as one of the first Mages to examine you when you first arrived to the arena—the same one who put the spellmark on your forearm, if you remember correctly, though they all looked similar to each other in their dull robes. She's a nondescript, youngish woman, possibly in her thirties, with limp red curls and a heavily-freckled face. She looks around, a bewildered and nervous smile twitching on her face, and there's nothing about her that immediately indicates that anything is wrong. Briony immediately turns to address her. "Thumma, is it true that you're the one in control of the wards?" There's a pause. Then the woman says, her voice small but strong: "Yes." There's a collective ripple of consternation from the other gladiators. You don't blame them for their discomfort. It's one thing to hate your obvious captors and oppressors; another to realize that one of you, a fellow captive and slave, is extremely complicit in your captivity. You look into Thumma's pale green eyes. There's nothing of the blankness of typical enchantments in them; none of the dull loss of willpower that comes with mind-control. Whatever this potion did, it's changed her utterly, down to her very core. And she doesn't even seem to realize it. "Can you take down the spell?" Briony asks. She steps forward and takes Thumma's hands. "Please, Thumma: you must have seen the state of things on your way here. Everyone in the arena is dead. There's nothing keeping us here anymore—except, except <i>you.</i> If you could please just dissipate the wards—" "No," Thumma says firmly. She's still, bizarrely, smiling a little, as if she'd told Briony she won't able to attend her party but wishes her a fun time all the same. "No, I can't do that." Briony stares at her. "<i>Can't</i>, or won't?" The Binder thinks on it. "Won't, I suppose," she says after a moment, decisively. "Dear Tovrik told me not to. So I won't." Briony looks at you helplessly. <<include "convincethumma">>

<<if $convincethumma is 4>> <br> <<include "thummasucceed">> <<else>> <ul class="choices"> <<if $tovrikkill is true>><<if not hasVisited("deartovrikdeadthumma")>><li><<link '"\'Dear Tovrik\' is dead, Thumma. You don\'t have to listen to him anymore."' 'deartovrikdeadthumma'>><<set $thummaturn += 1>><<set $convincethumma += 1>><</link>></li><</if>><</if>> <<if $tovrikkill is false>><<if not hasVisited("deartovriknothereanymore")>><li><<link '"\'Dear Tovrik\' isn\'t here anymore, Thumma. You don\'t have to listen to him anymore."' 'deartovriknothereanymore'>><<set $thummaturn += 1>><</link>></li><</if>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("trytoappealherempathymusthavesomeonemissesher")>><li><<link 'Try to appeal to her empathy. She must have someone who misses her, on the outside.' 'trytoappealherempathymusthavesomeonemissesher'>><<set $thummaturn += 1>><<if $compassionate gte 70>><<set $convincethumma += 1>><</if>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("tryappealtoherlogicdead")>><li><<link 'Try to appeal to her logic. With everyone else dead, she has no reason to keep the wards up. It serves no purpose.' 'tryappealtoherlogicdead'>><<set $thummaturn += 1>><<if $intelligence gte 50>><<set $convincethumma += 1>><</if>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("tryappealselfpreservationdontwanthurt")>><li><<link 'Try to appeal to her self-preservation. You don\'t want to hurt her, but desperate gladiators might lash out if she\'s the only thing keeping them here.' 'tryappealselfpreservationdontwanthurt'>><<set $thummaturn += 1>><<if $cunning gte 50>><<set $convincethumma += 1>><</if>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("tryappealsenseofdefianceenslaved")>><li><<link 'Try to appeal to her sense of defiance. Isn\'t she sick of being enslaved to someone else\'s will?' 'tryappealsenseofdefianceenslaved'>><<set $thummaturn += 1>><<if $courage gte 50>><<set $convincethumma += 1>><</if>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("trybewitchherlettingwardsdrop")>><li><<link 'Try to bewitch her into letting the wards drop.' 'trybewitchherlettingwardsdrop'>><<setpsionic +1>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("trybreakenchantmentonherwithmagic")>><li><<link 'Try to break the enchantment on her with your magic.' 'trybreakenchantmentonherwithmagic'>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("threatenherthumma")>><li><<link 'Threaten her.' 'threatenherthumma'>><<if $compassionate lte 40>><<set $convincethumma += 1>><</if>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if ($specialization is "diviner" and $psionic gte 40) and $goddessdivine is false>><li><<link 'Try to divine a way to get her to let go of the wards.' 'trydivinewaytogethertoletgowards'>><<set $goddessdivine to true>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link 'This isn\'t working. Use a Word of Power to rid the arena of the wards forever.' 'thisisntworkingwordofpowerridarenawards'>><<set $godspeaker -= 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Kill Thumma.' 'killthummaendoption'>><<setcompassionate -10>><<setred -8>><<setayla -3>><<setbriony -8>><<sethalek -5>><<setreputation -5>><<setorder -5>><<set $cantbecommander += 1>><<set $thummadead to true>><</link>></li> </ul> <</if>>

Her smiles falters for just a split second. Then she shakes her head and says, "That's all right. I still love him—even if death do us part." <<include "convincethumma">>

She laughs slightly. "That's a funny way of looking at it. Love pays no heed to distance or time." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"He left you here, Thumma, abandoned you to us! He didn\'t love you at all!"' 'heleftyouherethummaabandoned'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You don\'t love him, Thumma. He gave you a potion that makes you think you love him."' 'youdontlovehimthummapotion'>><<set $convincethumma += 1>><</link>></li> </ul>

She shakes her head. "You just don't understand." <<include "convincethumma">>

Thumma blinks slowly. "I—I remember when he gave me something to drink," she says doubtfully. "I thought it was terribly kind of him." <<include "convincethumma">>

<<nobr>><<if $compassionate gte 70>> "I have people waiting for me, back home," you say softly. "And I need to get back to them. And Briony needs to return to her people—and Staghead, to his. Don't you have anyone like that? A child? A lover? A friend?" <br><br> Something changes in Thumma's face, just slightly. She seems to shrink away from you. <br><br> "My… my sister," she mumbles. "My t-twin. I never told her where I went." <br><br> "If you can drop the wards," you say, "you can find her again. Be with her. Don't you want that?" <br><br> Thumma shakes her head, but now she looks uncertain. <<else>> "I don't remember," Thumma answers serenely. That tactic clearly failed to reach her. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "convincethumma">>

<<nobr>><<if $intelligence gte 50>> "Who are you obeying?" you ask her. "Who are you serving, by keeping us in here? You know everyone is dead. They're not going to be pleased with your obedience anymore: they're dead. And if you keep us here, what's going to happen? There's no one to feed us, no one to protect us. If we're trapped in here, we might just starve." <br><br> Thumma blinks slowly, looking as if she doesn't hear you—but still, her milk-pale brow wrinkles slightly. <<else>> Thumma just smiles blithely and shrugs. "I don't mind," she says. "I still must obey." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "convincethumma">>

<<nobr>><<if $cunning gte 50>> "I won't be able to hold them back if you anger them, Thumma," you point out. "All their other captors and tormentors are dead. You don't want to be the last one standing. Just let us go, and we can all leave this place unharmed." <br><br> Thumma is frowning. "I don't want to hurt anybody," she says slowly. Her brow furrows. "But…" <<else>> However, your threats seem to have the opposite effect on the Mage; she raises her chin. "I must obey," she repeats in a stronger, clearer tone. "I won't drop the wards." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "convincethumma">>

<<nobr>><<if $courage gte 50>> "You're your own person," you tell her. "But you've been under Tovrik's thumb for <i>years</i>. Obeying his every word, simpering after him when you know that's not how you feel, not how you <i>really</i> feel—doesn't that make you sick? Aren't you tired of it?" <br><br> Something spasms across Thumma's face, and she hesitates. <<else>> Thumma shakes her head. "I'm not enslaved to anyone. I'm here of my own free choice," she says calmly. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "convincethumma">>

But whatever is controlling her, its hold is too great for you to supersede. Your attempts to enchant her into doing your bidding do nothing. <<include "convincethumma">>

<<nobr>><<if ($psionic gte 60 and $magic gte 75) or ($specialization is "enchanter" and $psionic gte 50)>> You feel around in Thumma's thoughts, and it's hard work: the mind is already a tricky thing, let alone when working with complex and unknown spells in the mix. Probe too hard, and you could damage something permanently, like break a stray memory, or alter a habit or line of thought. It's like walking into a pristine house with muddy shoes: if you track dirt into the wrong place, it will never, ever come out. <br><br> But work too softly and you'll become lost in the labyrinth of the human mind yourself. <br><br> Finally you find a thin, slippery sheen coated over Thumma's memories and thoughts, as oily and filmy as a soap bubble. Is this the enchantment that the potion seeded within her, slowly growing to cover all her thoughts with a veil for all this time? <br><br> You hesitate. This enchantment has been a part of Thumma's mindset, her worldview, her entire <i>personality</i> for a long time. Breaking it could be an extremely jarring re-entrance into the world of the free-willed. It could even drive her insane. <br><br> But if you don't break the spell now, you won't get out of here in time to stop Jarkyth—and Thumma deserves to have her mind back. Right? <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Definitely. You need to do this, even if it hurts Thumma in the short-term.' 'definitelyyouneedtoifithurtsthumma'>><<setcourage +1>><<setcompassionate -1>><<setloyal +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'No, you\'ll back off. You don\'t want her blood on your hands if something goes wrong.' 'noyoullbackoffyoudontwantherbloodonhands'>><<setcourage -1>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>></li> </ul> <<else>> You feel around in Thumma's thoughts, and it's hard work: the mind is already a tricky thing, let alone when working with complex and unknown spells in the mix. Probe too hard, and you could damage something permanently, like break a stray memory, or alter a habit or line of thought. It's like walking into a pristine house with muddy shoes: if you track dirt into the wrong place, it will never, ever come out. <br><br> But work too softly and you'll become lost in the labyrinth of the human mind yourself. <br><br> Eventually, you give up. Such delicate work is beyond you: you'll have to find another way to convince her. <<include "convincethumma">> <</if>><</nobr>>

You break the enchantment. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "definitelyyouneedtoifithurtsthummai">><</link>></center>

Abruptly, Thumma falls to the ground like a wet sack of concrete, cracking her head on the floor. "Oh, shit!" Briony cries, rushing to the Binder's aid. "Here, someone help me get her onto the bed!" <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "definitelyyouneedtoifithurtsthummaii">><</link>></center>

A short while later, Thumma is awake, and blinking dazedly on Tovrik's bed. "Where am I?" she mumbles. "Where's—what's going on?" Red glances at you. "I think whatever you did worked," he says softly. "I mean, it concussed her, but I get the sense she's not all… love-potioned anymore. Well done." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Smile back at him. "I\'m just relieved it worked."' 'smilebackimrelievedthumma'>><<setred +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Wink cockily at him. "I always get the job done."' 'winkcockilyathimigetthejobdone'>><<set $redromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Breathe out a shaky sigh. "Thank the eight stars. I thought I killed her."' 'breatheoutshakysigheightstars'>><<setcompassionate +1>><<if $redromanceflag gte 8>><<set $redromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> </ul>

He smiles back. "Let's see if she's up to dropping the wards. It should be easy." <<include "thummasucceed2">>

Red inhales abruptly, then sneezes. "I can—imagine. I mean, I don't doubt it. I've seen that in action myself." He gives you a boyish, slightly foolish grin. "Again, well done." <<include "thummasucceed2">>

He gives you a brief smile. "I know that feeling," he says. "Let's see if she's up to dropping the wards. It should be easy." <<include "thummasucceed2">>

You'll just have to convince Thumma some other way. <<include "convincethumma">>

<<nobr>><<if $strength gte $magic>> You draw your $mainweapon and brandish it in front of Thumma's face. "Look, do as we ask and you won't get hurt. But you don't want to find out what happens if you don't drop those wards." <<else>> Your hand lights up with magic, and you blur it towards Thumma's face, stopping just of smashing into her nose. "Do as we ask," you say in a soft, deadly voice, "and you won't get hurt. But you don't want to find out what happens if you don't drop those wards." <</if>> <<if $compassionate lte 40>> <br><br> Thumma blinks rapidly, and you see a change come over her eyes. <<else>> <br><br> But Thumma seems unperturbed by your threats, which you sort of expected. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "convincethumma">>

It's hard work, trying to pick out the threads of the future with all the gladiators ranged impatiently around you, giving you strange looks as you stand and sweat and try to scry. As always, the future is incredibly fragmented, split into so many different pasts and reflections and echos that it makes you dizzy, as if you've stepped off a carousel and can't find your bearings. You get flashes of a few futures where you leave the arena, but it's not very clear how you achieve it; time is a cloud of gnats, flitting this way and that, too quickly for you to get a good look. <i>I have to kill her</i>, you understand eventually. <i>Killing her would work. It would bring down the wards.</i> <i>Or I can convince her. There is a chance to. Or I can use a Word of Power.</i> Great. <<include "convincethumma">>

You aren't getting anywhere with Thumma, and you're running out of time: if you don't get out of here now and prepare before your fight with Jarkyth—the literal Blood-Drinker—you're not going to have much of a fight at all. With a feeling of impatience, you reach towards the braid of power locked away inside of you, that tightly-coiled, shining rope somewhere in your hidden depths. You sense resistance as you reach for it, which surprises you—that's never happened before, except when you've just used it and have exhausted your ability to use it again. The power seems to pull away from you, as if reluctant. <i><b>This isn't what the words are for.</b></i> <i>If I don't use one now, I'll never be able to get to the Faceless Lord in time. And where would we be, then?</i> Something loosens in you, like a muscle relaxing. You shake your head and reach for it, speaking the word in your mind, driving it like a spear towards the barrier that you know stretches high above your head like a canopy. It shatters instantly. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Success!</span></div></div>' "wordofpowersuccessthumma">><</link>></center>

Thumma twitches, but says nothing; Briony straightens and gasps first. "The wards!" She looks around wildly. "Does anyone else feel that? They're gone!" Staghead frowns. "How can that be?" "I don't know, but—oh, they're off, let's get out of here—" "I feel it, too," Red says, frowning. "They just… disappeared suddenly, as if they'd been… erased? But how could that be?" Ayla scowls at Thumma. "Did you do something?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I dissipated the wards. By myself."' 'idissipatedwardsbymyself'>><<setcourage +1>><<set $reputation += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"We must have convinced Thumma. Isn\'t that right, Thumma?"' 'wemusthaveconvincedthummaisnthatright'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li> <<if $shepherdsknow is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I dissipated the wards using a Word of Power."</div>' 'idissipatedthewardsusingwordofpower'>><<setred +1>><<sethalek +1>><<setayla +1>><<set $reputation += 1>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">"I dissipated the wards using a Word of Power."</div>'>><</link>><</if>> </ul>

Red glances at you incredulously. "Just like that? How?" "That doesn't matter," Mountain Jackal says impatiently. "What matters is that we get every gladiator out of this building <i>now</i>. Staghead, you're with me." You turn to the others as the gladiators all break into a flurry of commotion and activity: there are wounded to tend to and move, young ones to corral, headcounts to be done, and more. You look at Red, Halek, Ayla, and Briony. "We need to get moving, too," you say. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>"We\'ve Got a Faceless Lord to Hunt."</span></div></div>' "orangeday">><</link>></center>

The Binder blinks for a few moments before managing a weak, confused smile. Even though the wards keeping you in the arena are gone, the enchantment on Thumma hasn't been lifted. "We'll worry about it all later," Briony says in a rush, glancing at you once and frowning. Then she shakes her head. "What matters now is that we get every gladiator out of this building now, before anyone on the outside notices anything is amiss. Staghead, Mountain Jackal, you see to the wounded. <<nobr>><<if $natheoutcome is not "killed">> Nathe, lead the children out, please." <<else>> Silverstrike, lead the children out, please." <</if>><</nobr>> You turn to the others as the gladiators launch into the flurry of activity they've been planning for so long. "We need to get moving, too," you say. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>"We\'ve Got a Faceless Lord to Hunt."</span></div></div>' "orangeday">><</link>></center>

Red blinks. "You <i>did</i>? But you didn't say anything!" "I guess I don't need to?" He groans in frustration. "Damn, I really wanted to see it in action." Then he seems to remember where he is and says hurriedly, "Not that I'm not grateful that you acted, of course. It's good that the wards are down—it's just a pity you had to use something that… powerful to dissolve them." "I suppose I'll have to learn what a 'word of power' is later," Briony interjects then. She gives you a brief, tight smile. "Thanks, <<c firstname>>, for whatever you did. Now we've got to get every gladiator out of here before anyone on the outside notices something is amiss. Staghead, Jackal, you see to the wounded. <<nobr>><<if $natheoutcome is not "killed">> Nathe, lead the children out, please." <<else>> Silverstrike, lead the children out, please." <</if>><</nobr>> You turn to the others as the gladiators launch into the flurry of activity they've been planning for so long. "We need to get moving, too," you say. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>"We\'ve Got a Faceless Lord to Hunt."</span></div></div>' "orangeday">><</link>></center>

You blow out a breath. You were hoping it wouldn't come to this, but it seems like you have no choice: if you want to get out of the arena, you're going to have to kill the one who's keeping you locked in it. It takes no time at all to reach out and snap Thumma's neck. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "killthummaoptioni">><</link>></center>

Her body drops to the floor, and several of the gladiators cry out in alarm. Briony's eyes widen, and Red goes pale. "<i><<c firstname>></i>!" It's too late: she's dead, and with her life fleeing her body, you can feel the wards outside dissipating, as well, dissolving into the air like mist. The others all stare at you, aghast. Even Ayla, usually the hardened pragmatist, looks wary of you. Finally, it's Mountain Jackal who speaks. "What. The. Fuck?" He glares at you. "What kind of Shepherd are you? Aren't you supposed to be police? She was one of us!" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I had no choice. I didn\'t want to do it, but I didn\'t see any other way."' 'killthummaoptionii'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"She was not one of us. She was on the side of the slavers. She was too far gone."' 'killthummaoptionii'>><<setcompassionate -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'m sorry. But her sacrifice means our freedom."' 'killthummaoptionii'>><<setloyal +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Shut up, Jackal. I did what you didn\'t have the balls to do."' 'killthummaoptionii'>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setbriony -5>><<setred -5>><<set $redromanceflag -= 5>><<set $brionyromanceflag -= 5>><<sethalek -2>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"We just need to stop the Faceless Lord, at any cost."' 'killthummaoptionii'>><<setloyal +3>><</link>></li> </ul>

He stares at you. "You're insane," the gladiator says finally, shaking his head. "You're totally insane." You turn to your companions, who have all gone still and silent. "Come on," you tell them. There will be time to dwell on this later, to contemplate what you've done. What had to be done. "The wards are down, and we're free to go. We need to track down Jarkyth—and kill him once and for all." After a few long moments, finally Briony nods tersely and brushes past you. The rest of her gladiator friends follow, giving you a wide berth. Red and Halek take up the rear; Red avoids your gaze. It's only Ayla who pauses to address you, glancing back at Thumma's broken, crumpled body. "They get it," she says quietly, looking back at you. "They understand why you had to do it. But that's not going to get out of their heads anytime soon. I'm glad I'm not you." She leaves, and when you finally step out into the night air, it isn't a feeling of freedom that fills your lungs: it's guilt and doubt. But you push it down, away, far into the reaches of your mind. You don't have time for such insecurities, such petty feelings. You've got a Faceless Lord to hunt. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "orangeday">><</link>></center>

<<set $thummasaved to true>>"This isn't working," Mountain Jackal says suddenly, folding his arms. "And we don't have forever to bandy words with her." "Just give me a moment," you tell him. Then you turn back to Thumma, whose eyes seem to be swimming with tears now—a bizarre sight, with the vapid smile still fixed on her face. Does that mean you're getting through to her in some way? "This isn't you, Thumma," you tell her, putting all your conviction behind it. "I know you can break out of this on your own; I know you can let us out of here. The people who put this spell on you are all dead; it should be weakened enough for you to snap it. Break out of it, Thumma! Free yourself! <i>Break out of it</i>!" You feel the air heat, hear all the sound go rushing out of the room as if pulled by a vacuum. And then— Thumma screams. And you feel the wards drop. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>You\'re Free.</span></div></div>' "thummasucceedi">><</link>></center>

Later, Thumma wraps you in a shaky hug as the gladiators all bustle around you in the flurry of activity they've planned for so long. There are wounded to tend to, children to lead out, headcounts to make as all of the gladiators evacuate to a preplanned safe zone before anyone outside notices anything amiss. "Thank you," Thumma breathes as someone leads her away. "I'll—I'll need to tell you more, when this is all over—what they did to me, how horrible it was! But <i>thank you</i>. I was trapped in my own mind, and now I'm—I'm free." You turn to the others as Staghead, Mountain Jackal, and the others prepare to lead the gladiators out for good. Briony stays by your side: she's got a job to finish, she tells you with a fierce, glittering grin, and a Sponsor to kill. "We should get moving then, too," you say. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>"We\'ve Got a Faceless Lord to Hunt."</span></div></div>' "orangeday">><</link>></center>

You turn to Thumma and speak to her coaxingly. "You're in control of the wards that are keeping us locked into the arena," you tell her gently. "Do you think you could let them go?" Thumma frowns, as if you're speaking utter gibberish to her—but then her expression clears a little in realization, and she nods. Moments later, you feel the wards drop, like an umbrella being taken away in the rain. Briony gasps sharply; then an expression of delight crosses her face. "They're gone," she breathes. Then she turns to the other gladiators, oblivious in their lack of magic. "They're gone!" A cheer goes up in the room, and briefly hands reach out as the warriors jostle you in thanks. Then they turn to launching the plan they've worked on for so long: teams are dispatched to see to the wounded, guide out the children, and keep an eye out for any outsiders who might notice that anything's amiss. Briony <<nobr>><<if $brionyromanceflag gte 4>> kisses your cheek. "Thank you, <<c firstname>>," she says quietly. "You're amazing." <<if $aylaromanceflag gte 4>> <br><br> Across the room, Ayla frowns at you suddenly, glaring as if you'd just insulted her mother. <</if>> <<elseif $brionyhate is false>> hugs you tightly. "Thank you, <<c firstname>>," she says quietly. "You're amazing." <<else>> nods tightly to you. "Good work," she says, albeit with a tense, awkward, unhappy expression, her tone reluctant. <</if>><</nobr>> Halek clears his throat. "Shall we get going, then? Jarkyth is still out there, and we don't have much time until dawn." You nod. "Let's go," you tell the others. "We have a Faceless Lord to hunt." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "orangeday">><<setreputation +3>><</link>></center>

The ceremony of St. Cecily and the Orange Tree has very unusual beginnings, as far as you know. St. Cecily was a prioress who led a nunnery devoted to the One-God, centuries and centuries ago. Along with her kindness and dedication, she was well-famed for her talent at gardening, and pilgrims the world over came to the priory to walk her incredible gardens: lush courtyards overflowing with life and beauty. It was said that St. Cecily's touch was so pure, so holy, that anything she grew was in turn consecrating, sanctifying, and cleansing; tea brewed from her apple blossoms cured consumption, and salves made from her crushed kanaea leaves could close any wound almost instantaneously. Most famous of all was an orange tree that she had planted as a sapling, which then grew to be as enormous as a great oak. St. Cecily spent many years reading under that tree, leaning against it and speaking to it to encourage its fruit to grow. In the time of St. Cecily, skirmishes between the people of her land and other fiefdoms were growing more and more common as famine set in and starved the population. One day, disaster struck the priory: raiders invaded, killing the innocent and unarmed nuns and pillaging their stockrooms for food and drink. St. Cecily was chased by one such bandit into the courtyard; crazed with hunger and anger at the king for failing to protect his people, he was intent on killing the prioress and ridding the country of its symbol of hope and faith. During the ensuing struggle, St. Cecily fell back under the shadows of her beloved orange tree—and the wicked man could not cross the line drawn in the ground by the shadow of its leaves. When he tried, he caught aflame and died instantly where he stood. And so it came to be known that the ground from which St. Cecily's orange tree had sprouted had become holy earth, land made sacred by St. Cecily's love and devotion. Thereafter, many believers came to pray beneath that tree, claiming to hear the voice of the One-God when they sat against its sun-warmed trunk and tasted one of its fruits. Today, St. Cecily is celebrated by similar rituals all across the Continent. Believers lay out bowls of oranges at each entrance of their home, speaking prayers and holy chants of cleansing, renewal, and protection. At dawn, on the day that St. Cecily triumphed over her attacker, the Hierophant performs his own sacred ritual in the region's largest cathedral, completing it in front of the adoring masses of his devotees outside. This last step is said to be crucial in 'activating' the rituals that have been done in believers' homes; the prayers of the Hierophant sanctify the oranges that his followers have set out, turning the ground they're placed on holy and righteous and ensuring the people's protection for the rest of the year. <ul class="choices"> <<if $heritage is "Norm">><li><<link 'You used to set out oranges with your parents on this day.' 'youneedorangesparents'>><<setfaith +1>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $belief is "one-god">><<link '<div class="choice-item">You would be setting out your own oranges if you were at home.</div>' 'youwouldsettingorangesathome'>><<setfaith +3>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">You would be setting out your own oranges if you were at home.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link 'The whole thing is so ridiculous. That kind of superstition borders dangerously on beliefs in magic.' 'thewholethingridiculouskindofsuperstition'>><<setfaith -3>><<setloyal -1>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'You\'ve never given this day much thought. Other cultures have certain beliefs: it\'s not up to you to pass judgment.' 'orangedayii'>><</link>></li> <<if $intelligence gte 50>><<link '<div class="choice-item">You\'ve done your own research on St. Cecily. You think she\'s an amalgamation of different historical figures rather than strictly one person, but no one\'s all that interested in hearing your historical theories.</div>' 'youvedoneyourownresearchstcecily'>><<setintelligence +2>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">You\'ve done your own research on St. Cecily. You think she\'s an amalgamation of different historical figures rather than strictly one person, but no one\'s all that interested in hearing your historical theories.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link 'You didn\'t know anything about this, until Red told you.' 'youdidntknowanythinguntilredtoldyou'>><<setintelligence -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Fond memories: you recall drinking orange blossom tea with your mother, scattering the peels in the flowerbeds with your father. Now this holiday means something very different. <<include "orangedayii">>

Last year, you were on the road with caravans, and you still remember some of the merchants setting out the fruit, scattering peels in a circle around the wagons like salt lines. You hope your memories of this day don't taint your experiences of the holiday in the future. But they probably will. <<include "orangedayii">>

Or it would, if the followers of the Autarch's Church weren't such damn hypocrites. Protective wards are all well and good when they come from the One-God, but not when they come from living, breathing Mages. <<include "orangedayii">>

The closest parallel you could find was "Cecilia the Scarlet," a young virgin girl who was kidnapped by bandits for ransom. She decapitated the bandit leader with a club—some legends portend the club was fashioned from the branch of a fruit tree—and became something of a local folk hero... but again, no one really wants to hear your theories. <<include "orangedayii">>

He went into a little too much detail, but at least you know what's going on. <<include "orangedayii">>

All this is to say that you have at least one advantage against the Faceless Lord: you know exactly where he is and what he's doing. The five of you linger outside of Heth Macoll's grand cathedral, across a large plaza and crammed in with the masses of the devout who are waiting for the "Hierophant" to emerge after dawn and finish his sanctifying prayers. People jostle you back and forth to get a better look at the front of the cathedral, from which the Hierophant will eventually emerge, and the cool morning air smells cloyingly of oranges. Around you, Briony, Ayla, Red, and Halek are tense. Halek has retained control of himself, as Jarkyth is again cloaking his demonic aura within that of his earthly host's. The Hunter takes deep breaths of the chilly pre-dawn air, seemingly gearing himself up for this entrapment ritual he needs to do. From what he's told you, it's extremely taxing on the system and difficult to pull off… but it should be effective against a Faceless Lord, as with any demon. "'Should' being the operative word," Red said dryly. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "orangedayiii">><</link>></center>

Beside him, Briony is looser, more relaxed, but still alert—and she keeps Gonturan close to her side. The other gladiators are now recovering at the inn of a merchant sympathetic to their cause; you expect many are impatient to leave and begin the journeys home to their families, but they agreed to wait in case things took a downhill turn with the Faceless Lord. You feel your own chill, and it's not just the morning cool: if you fail, the gladiators may be your only hope in either evacuating the city to get away from a rampaging and bloodthirsty High Demon… or they could be the only ones capable of spreading the word that he's possessed one of the church's five greatest leaders. Not an ideal scenario, in either case. From the cathedral, several bells begin ringing in a harmonious cacophony, signaling the beginning of the Hierophant's ritual inside. The crowd cheers. "Remember," Halek breathes. "You kill him <i>after</i> I get him in thrall, not a second before. You strike too early, he flees into another body and we'll lose him forever. Got it?" You all nod. "He'll say anything to make you hesitate, make you doubt. Then he'll strike—probably at me so that I can't complete the ritual. You can't let that happen. Don't let him turn you against each other. Don't let him tempt you. Demons thrive on two things: hurting people and controlling people. Remember that and you should be fine." Briony looks around, her face anxious. "You said you fought that Faceless Lord, Quiial, before," she says to Red and Ayla. They caught her up on the situation before you came here. "Do you have any tips?" Red shakes his head regretfully. "I barely remember anything from the Phantom Shore," he says. "Ayla?" She shrugs. "I just know we got rid of the thing. Ask <<c firstname>>. <<c she>><<if $plural is true>>'re<<else>>'s<</if>> faced down the most of the buggers out of all of us, and $her experience with 'em isn't limited to some freaky dream world where the rules were different." Briony looks at you, her violet eyes nervous but hopeful. "<<c firstname>>?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Trust in each other. We outnumber the thing five to one: it can\'t take on all of us at once."' 'trusteachotheroutnumberthing'>><<setloyal +1>><<setred +1>><<setayla +1>><<setbriony +1>><<sethalek +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Don\'t trust your senses. Faceless Lords can deceive the mind and make you think or see things that aren\'t really there."' 'donttrustsensesfacelesslordsdeceivemind'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Don\'t give into your fear. It makes them stronger, and it makes you less able to fight."' 'dontgiveintofearbrionymakesthem'>><<setcourage +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Don\'t give into temptation. It will try to give you everything it thinks you want, lure you close, and then either possess you or destroy you."' 'dontgiveintotemptationtrytogivelure'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Leave destroying it to me. Mortal weapons barely make a dent on Faceless Lords, and magic can act strangely. Give it all you\'ve got and weaken it, but leave the final blow to me."' 'leavedestroyingittomemortalweapons'>><<setloyal -1>><<setcourage +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Shrug. "There\'s never anything that can prepare you for something like this."' 'shrugneveranythingprepared'>><<setbriony -1>><<setayla -1>><<sethalek -1>><<setred -1>><<setloyal -1>><<setcharisma -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Briony smiles. "Yeah—we've got this." <<include "orangedayiv">>

Briony bites her lip. "That's pretty scary—but I've faced worse. I think. Well, probably not, but I've got your back either way!" <<include "orangedayiv">>

Briony nods. "Just like in the arena. I've got this." <<include "orangedayiv">>

"…Don't open my soul up for the greatest of all demons," Briony repeats dryly. "Got it, thank you." <<include "orangedayiv">>

Briony nods. "I will." <<include "orangedayiv">>

Briony blows out a breath, making her bangs flutter. "Inspiring," she says, giving you a tight smile. "Thanks." <<include "orangedayiv">>

Red stirs. "We should go," he murmurs. "Now that we know he's in the building, we've got to act before he moves out into the public eye. I don't want to be dealing with a crush of angry worshippers while we assassinate their 'old, helpless' Hierophant right in front of them." Ayla nods. "We're lucky that this is a sacred day. No one's allowed to enter the church, for any reason, until the Hierophant signals that he's completed the prayers. Convenient, huh?" You glance at the guards standing vigil at the church's doors. "We'll see about that." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "orangedayv">><</link>></center>

You split up, moving as smoothly into the crowd as if you'd rehearsed it. The grand cathedral is enormous and has many entrances, not just the doors facing the public plaza: Ayla heads for the west entrance, Red the east, and you and Briony take the two south-facing cloisters. Halek vanishes, ready to make his move once you're all in position, as you'd planned. You walk part of the way with… <ul class="choices"> <<if $brionyhate is false>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Briony.</div>' 'brionywalkpartofway'>><<setbriony +3>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Briony.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $aylahate is false>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Ayla.</div>' 'aylawalkpartofway'>><<setayla +3>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Ayla.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link 'Red.' 'redwalkpartofway'>><<setred +3>><</link>></li> </ul>

She sticks close by your side as you navigate the crowd, uncharacteristically silent. You glance at her. "Danar for your thoughts?" Briony shakes her head, then gives you a brave smile. "Just—be careful in there, all right? That's all. We didn't all make it out of the arena just to lose anyone now." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"So I\'m one of you now? A gladiator?"' 'soimoneofyounowagladiator'>><</link>></li> <<if $thummadead is true>><li><<link '"Well... not <i>everyone</i> made it out."' 'awkwardbrionytalkthumma'>><<setbriony -4>><<setcharisma -3>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link 'Nudge her playfully. "Worried? You? The fearsome champion of the arena?"' 'nudgeherplayfullybrionyworried'>><<setbriony +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Pat her on the head. "Don\'t worry about me. I can take care of myself."' 'patbrionyonheaddontworry'>><<setbriony +1>><<set $brionyromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <<if $brionyromanceflag gte 4 and $charisma gte 50>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Kiss her swiftly on the cheek. "You\'re sweet to worry. I\'ll promise if you promise, all right?"</div>' 'kissherswiftlyyouresweetbriony'>><<set $brionyromanceflag += 5>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Kiss her swiftly on the cheek. "You\'re sweet to worry. I\'ll promise if you promise, all right?"</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link 'Frown at her. "I\'m perfectly capable of taking care of myself."' 'frownatherimperfectlycapablebriony'>><<setloyal 1->><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Nod professionally. "Thanks. You, too."' 'nodprofessionallythanksyoutoobriony'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Briony bites her lip and falls silent, clearly not knowing what to say to that. <<include "orangedayvi">>

Briony snorts. "Of course! You fought a gladiator fight, didn't you? Multiple, even! So of course you're one of us!" She beams at you. "Whether you like it or not." <<include "orangedayvi">>

Briony snorts. "I'll let you in on a secret: it's a bit easy to become champion when you can punch through walls," she says. "The real trouble is <i>controlling</i> that. Plus everything else, I suppose. Like not knowing where that power actually comes from. That part is... hard." <<include "orangedayvi">>

Briony blushes, but she seems pleased by your gesture. "All right," she says impishly. "I'll hold you to that. And if you break your word, I'll kick your ass myself, you got it?" She ruffles your hair in turn before giving you a wink, a mock-salute, and then walking away. <<include "orangedayvi">>

There's something very endearing about her worried expression; you can't really resist pecking her cheek. Her skin is soft and sweet-smelling. She blushes, but boldly turns and returns the gesture, kissing you on the cheek back. "It's a deal," she says cheerfully. "And if you break it, I'll come for you personally myself, got it?" You nod, and she gives you one last smile, wave, and a lingering look over her shoulder before she disappears into the crowd. <<include "orangedayvi">>

She huffs lightly. "So stubborn," she mutters. "All right, whatever you say!" <<include "orangedayvi">>

Briony offers you a small smile. "I'll do my best." <<include "orangedayvi">>

She nudges you. "You going to be okay? I've kind of had my fill of you getting the shit beat out of you and/or you beating the shit out of other people, so if we could make this quick, I'd appreciate it." Underneath all of her acerbic sarcasm, you perceive a sense of concern emanating from her. <ul class="choices"> <<if $aylaromanceflag gte 5>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Kiss her cheek. "I\'ll be fine. Promise you will be, too."</div>' 'kisshercheekitllbefineayla'>><<set $aylaromanceflag += 5>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Kiss her cheek. "I\'ll be fine. Promise you will be, too."</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link 'Wrap your arm affectionately around her neck. "I\'ll make it quick, just for you."' 'wrapyourarmaffectionatelyaroundaylaneck'>><<setayla +3>><<set $aylaromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Tease her. "Aw, you care about me! You\'d weep over me like a grieving widow! You\'d drip snot on me!"' 'teaseherawyoucareaboutmeyoudweepovermeayla'>><<setayla +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Roll your eyes. "I\'ll do my best, Your Highness."' 'rollyoureyesaylailldomybest'>><<setayla -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Nod professionally. "Let\'s get this over with."' 'nodprofessionallyletsgetthisoverwith'>><<setloyal +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Ayla colors deeply, having gone stiff at your side. Then she mumbles, "Uh… okay. You, too." Her head moves slightly toward you, as if she's about to peck you quickly on the cheek as well—but then she pinches your side instead, rather forcefully, before whirling and shoving her way through the crowd, radiating embarrassment. <<include "orangedayvi">>

She scowls at you, but tolerates your closeness. It's a bigger gesture in her than it would be in someone else hugging you back. "Thanks so much." She gives you a brief, warm nod—if a nod can be warm—before slipping away. <<include "orangedayvi">>

Ayla punches you in the ribs hard enough to make you double over, laughing. "Shut up with that nonsense," she growls, shaking her fist at you. "I don't give a shit if you wind up at the bottom of a ditch! And I do <i>not</i> drip snot!" She scowls at you as you continue to laugh, all the way up until she leaves you for the western entrance. <<include "orangedayvi">>

She rolls her eyes back before taking her leave. "Thanks much." <<include "orangedayvi">>

She nods before taking her leave. "Yeah." <<include "orangedayvi">>

He gives you a quick, encouraging smile just as you're about to part ways. "Good luck," he whispers. "And be careful, for gods' sakes. I don't think my heart can take any more stress, watching you throw yourself into danger again." <ul class="choices"> <<if $redromanceflag gte 10>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Kiss his cheek. "You, too. Your safety is just as important as mine."</div>' 'kissredcheekyousafety'>><<set $redromanceflag += 3>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Kiss his cheek. "You, too. Your safety is just as important as mine."</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link 'Nudge him playfully. "You worry too much."' 'nudgehimplayfullyworrytoomuch'>><<setred +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Hug him quickly. "Don\'t worry. I\'ll be careful, and you should, too."' 'hughimquicklycarefulred'>><<setred +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Nod professionally. "I\'ll do my best."' 'nodprofessionallyilldomybestred'>><<setloyal +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Glance at his shoulder. He\'s missing his giant warhammer. "You\'re going in unarmed?"' 'glanceatredshouldermissingwarhammer'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Red starts a little at the brush of your lips, then leans forward to return the gesture. His lips linger against your cheek for just a moment, warm and clinging, before he draws away and gives you a faint smile. <<nobr>><<if $redrelationship is not "ex">> <br><br> It's a first for both of you; you hope that it doesn't portend a last. <<elseif $redrelationship is "ex">> <br><br> It makes your chest ring with a tight emotion you can't name, flinging you back to a place with such dizzying heat and force that for a moment you can't see. You blink the memory away like it's stars in your eyes. <</if>><</nobr>> Red walks away. "See you soon," he murmurs. <<include "orangedayvi">>

He laughs a little. "I know. But it's kept me alive, at least." He tips his head at you and disappears into the crowds. <<include "orangedayvi">>

Red smiles. "I will." He nods his head at you before walking away. <<include "orangedayvi">>

Red smiles slightly before taking his leave. "I'm sure you will." <<include "orangedayvi">>

"Hm?" Red blinks. "No, it's in a—well, a pocket dimension is the simplest way of phrasing it. I can summon it in a flash, though, so don't worry." You nod. "I hope you bash that thing's head in." Red chuckles. "I kind of hope I swing it into his—" Then he pauses. "Well. It seems Chase and Trouble are getting to me. Never mind." He waves at you. "See you soon." <<include "orangedayvi">>

<<set $clothes to "your Shepherds uniform and medallion">>You leave the crowds and make your way stealthily to the southwestern cloister, where only a single guard is keeping watch in front of the heavy oaken doors. He frowns, taking in your Shepherds' uniform—newly-donned—before barking out, "Get back to the plaza! This area is closed to worshipers until the Hierophant leaves." Your plan with the others didn't outline exactly how you'd get rid of the guard: just that you needed to do it quickly and quietly, and ensure that he didn't raise an alarm or come back later. <<include "guard">>

<ul class="choices"> <<if ($specialization is "enchanter" and $psionic gte 40) or ($magic gte 70 and $psionic gte 60)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Enchant him into walking away and taking a nap somewhere.</div>' 'enchanthimintowalkingawaynap'>><<setmagic +1>><<setpsionic +3>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Enchant him into walking away and taking a nap somewhere.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $specialization is "healer" or $specialization is "binder" or $arcane gte 45>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Splash a sleeping draught in his face.</div>' 'splashsleepingdraughtinhisface'>><<setcunning +1>><<setarcane +1>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Splash a sleeping draught in his face.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $strength gte 50>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Quickly put him in a sleeper hold and choke him until he falls unconscious.</div>' 'quicklyputhimsleeperholdandchokehim'>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Quickly put him in a sleeper hold and choke him until he falls unconscious.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $strength gte 60>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Punch him in the throat, then hit him in the back of his neck to stun him.</div>' 'punchhimthroatbackofneckstun'>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Punch him in the throat, then hit him in the back of his neck to stun him.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("flashhimshepherdsmedallionofficial")>><li><<link 'Flash him your Shepherds medallion. "Official Shepherds business. You need to walk away."' 'flashhimshepherdsmedallionofficial'>><<setloyal +1>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("pretendtheresemergencyattendto")>><li><<link 'Pretend there\'s an emergency he needs to attend to.' 'pretendtheresemergencyattendto'>><<if $charisma gte 50>><<setcharisma +1>><</if>><<if $cunning gte 50>><<setcunning +1>><</if>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link 'You blink. "Um..."' 'youblinkumorangeday'>><<setreputation -3>><<sethealth -10>><<setcharisma -2>><<setintelligence -2>><<setcunning -2>><<setcourage -2>><</link>></li> </ul>

It's easy to invade his mind—like slipping a knife into a soft melon—and weaving a command like a net. It wraps around him, binds him—and soon enough, he's marching stiffly away to find a comfortable bench to nap on. He'll wake up in a few hours having no idea what happened. <<include "guardi">>

It was fairly easy to mix your own sleeping draught—a little <i>too</i> easy, in your opinion. The guard sputters indignantly as the tonic drips into his mouth, but soon enough the potion's effect takes hold, and he slumps to the ground, snoring peacefully. You grab him by the ankles and drag him into some very deep bushes. He won't be waking up for a while. <<include "guardi">>

It's far too easy to grab the man, twist him around, and lock your arm around his neck before he can even sputter a protest. He struggles against you, but his strength is no match for yours: soon enough, he slumps and sags against you, unconscious. You let him drop to the ground and drag him into some very deep bushes, binding and gagging him with some rope <<nobr>><<if $rope is true>> from your pack. <<else>> that Ayla gave you. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "guardi">>

You smash your fist into the man's throat, striking his windpipe so that he chokes and clutches at his neck desperately. While he's bent over and disorientated, heaving, you chop the back of his neck with your hand and knock him out cold. You let him drop to the ground and drag him into some very deep bushes, binding and gagging him with some rope <<nobr>><<if $rope is true>> from your pack. <<else>> that Ayla gave you. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "guardi">>

<<nobr>><<if $loyal gte 80>> The man straightens at your soldierly aura, but he still frowns uncertainly. "What kind of business?" <br><br> You glare imperiously at him. "That's for me to know. Now leave and don't say a word to anyone, unless you want to end up in the Autarch's prison for disobeying one of her officers." <br><br> He blanches and steps hurriedly aside, darting off into the teeming crowds like the hounds of Hael are after him. <br><br> You smirk to yourself. This job does have some perks, after all. <br><br> <<include "guardi">> <<else>> The man stares back at you. "No," he says. "I'm tasked with protecting the Hierophant. No one gets in without his say-so. Not even so-called Shepherds." <<include "guard">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $charisma gte 50>> "There's a gang of robbers," you explain urgently. "They're moving through the crowd, pickpocketing worshipers, mugging them, ruining everyone's holy day. You've got to stop them while the Hierophant's preoccupied, or he's going to come out of that cathedral to absolute chaos. And I expect he won't be very happy someone didn't maintain order for him." <br><br> The guard's brow knits. "…What do these robbers look like?" he asks. <br><br> "Just like regular church-goers," you say. "You'll need to blend into the crowd and keep an eye out for them. They don't strike openly. Blink, and you'll miss it." <br><br> The guard watches you skeptically for a moment, then grunts. "Thanks." He tips his helmet back and jogs away, his eyes scanning the crowds like a hawk's. That should keep him busy. <br><br> <<include "guardi">> <<else>> "There's a fire," you blurt, stammering a little on the words. "Over there, down the block a ways." <br><br> The guard looks at you indifferently. "Let the fire brigade deal with that." <br><br> You think quickly. "Er… Heth Macoll… doesn't have one." <br><br> The guard arches a brow at you. "Heth Macoll doesn't have a <i>fire brigade</i>?" <br><br> "Um… no?" <br><br> He shrugs. "Let someone else deal with it. I don't live here." <<include "guard">> <</if>><</nobr>>

The guard gives you a hard look. "If you have no business here, you need to leave. <b>Now</b>." Out of options, you tackle him, and wrestle him in the dirt while clamping a hand over his mouth to prevent him from screaming. It's messy, undignified work, especially when the guard bites you viciously, breaking skin. You grit your teeth and deal him a ferocious blow across the face, finally knocking him out. When he's unconscious, you drag him into some deep bushes and bind and gag him with some rope <<nobr>><<if $rope is true>> from your pack. <<else>> that Ayla gave you. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "guardi">>

Afterwards, you step to great wooden door of the cathedral, reaching out and pulling on the stubborn, wrought-iron handle. The door gives way finally, as if opened by an unseen butler, and the growing morning light outside gives way to an intimidating and impenetrable gloom within. You step inside. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "guardii">><</link>></center>

The air in the cathedral is heavy and acrid from the smell of burning candles. It feels as if the stones themselves object to your presence here, and you feel a burning sensation radiating through the heels of your boots. As if the ground here has been defiled, cursed, rather than blessed and consecrated. You edge forward, past the vestibule with its row of candles and donation boxes and into the main section of the cathedral itself. High above, enormous bells are suspended in the semi-open belltower, the rafters and ropes of which dangle freely overhead. A figure in a dark red robe stands praying at the altar at the end of the room, seemingly oblivious to your presence. You look warily around for any hidden guards. The place is vast and dark, windowless except for the vast opening high above for the bells. Chandeliers of brass-bound oak hang from the towering ceiling, burning with the light of thousands of small, ineffectual candles. Since the citizens of Heth Macoll don't tend to donate much to religious causes, this building is austere, with benches of unadorned wood lining the nave. A simple stone statue of the One-God watches from the shadows. The figure at the plain altar finally turns. The demon wearing Zythos's face smiles at you. "Ah, <<c firstname>>," he says, his eyes wrinkling kindly. "I didn't expect you to attend! Why don't you step closer, and we can share some orange tea?" In the half-light, his eyes gleam like a monster's. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Draw your $mainweapon.' 'drawmainweapontalquist'>><<setcourage +1>><<setstrength +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Keep him talking: you need to buy Halek time to prepare the ritual.' 'asktalquisthalf'>><<setcharisma +1>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Ignore him and keep looking around.' 'ignorehimlookingaroundtalquist'>><<setcunning +1>><<setcourage +1>><</link>></li> <<if $stupid is true>><li><<link 'You take a step closer, curious. Tea?' 'youtakestepclosercurioustalquist'>><</link>></li><</if>> </ul>

You meet the demon's eyes, and the smell of burning in the air increases: perversely, you get the sense that he's excited by your attention. You have to swallow back the bile in your throat. <<include "asktalquist">>

Zythos laughs at the sight of your weapon. "My dear," he says mockingly, still not moving. "Surely you know better by now?" <<include "asktalquist">>

The smell of burning in the air increases: it seems the demon is incensed by the thought of you ignoring him. "Trying to look the hero?" he hisses. The voice, which should be an old man's, sounds more like a snake's. "It won't work. We both know why you're here." <<include "asktalquist">>

Zythos views you with open contempt. "How did <i>you</i> become known as the 'Hero of Haven'? You're a simpleton!" Right, of course—he's not here to offer you tea. He's here to kill you! You need to ask him some questions, or something. <<include "asktalquist">>

<ul class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("howlongpossessinghierophanttalquist")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"How long have you been possessing the Hierophant?"</div>' 'howlongpossessinghierophanttalquist'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("areyountyougoingasktalquistarenahowgotout")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Aren\'t you going to ask how I got out of the arena?"</div>' 'areyountyougoingasktalquistarenahowgotout'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("whatdidyoudowithpreviousgladiatorsdined")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"What did you do with the previous gladiators you dined with?"</div>' 'whatdidyoudowithpreviousgladiatorsdined'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("thebloodsacrificesweretheyalldoing")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"The blood sacrifices across the Continent... were they all your doing?"</div>' 'thebloodsacrificesweretheyalldoing'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("whyhaveyouotherlordsrecognizedtalquistbrightburner")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Why have you and the other Faceless Lords recognized me? Why do you call me Brightburner? What\'s your plan?"</div>' 'whyhaveyouotherlordsrecognizedtalquistbrightburner'>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link 'There\'s no more time to speak. He begins to walk towards you.' 'talquistaskend'>><</link>></li> </ul>

The Faceless Lord laughs, a sound that's rich and velvety and dark as wine. "Wouldn't you like to know?" he asks mockingly. "It could have been since birth, or the last ten years… but time passes so oddly here in the Brightworld. I couldn't say." <<include "asktalquist">>

The demon scoffs. "I don't need to ask," he says dryly. "You got rid of the wards, somehow. You needn't bore me with the details." <<include "asktalquist">>

"As the Sponsor?" Zythos appears to think about it. "Ah, I glut myself on their blood—then their souls. I absorbed their strength, agility, and power. I culled the best ones from the pack and feasted upon them at my leisure. Sometimes I even butchered them for my own pleasure. It was so intoxicating that I even began feeding on the scraps, the dregs that couldn't fight anymore. The ones that lost to the 'Scales.'" He shakes his head. "It was a perfect system, really. Whether a warrior became a champion or lost to the Scales, they ultimately came into my possession; and the ones in between continued to feed me with their bloodsport, fighting for their very lives before they landed on either side of the spectrum. It's such a shame that you spoiled it all the way you did." Then he smiles, the wrinkles around his eyes kind and fatherly but the look on his face utterly inhuman. "But no matter. With all the gold I made, I can easily begin anew." You stare him down. "Not if I have anything to say about it." He laughs. "You won't." <<include "asktalquist">>

You look around: even here, there are great ceremonial bowls of blood placed beside the baskets of oranges. Zythos smiles mockingly. "Isn't it obvious?" he asks, as if you are terribly dull. "Of course it was me. I convinced those wretches that this was the best way to show loyalty to their god… but instead, they were showing devotion to <i>me</i>. I <i>am</i> the Blood-Drinker, after all. Warmaker and eater of men." <<include "asktalquist">>

He barks out a laugh. "So you don't even know? How pathetic. A child like you could never hope to defeat the Nightwalker." <<include "asktalquist">>

"Come," Zythos purrs. "Let us not tarry with any more games, much as I enjoy them. We both know you are here with some hare-brained scheme to destroy me—and we both know that you are not alone. Why don't you tell your friends to come out?" There's a pause—and then the shadows stir. Briony steps out of the gloom first, Gonturan blazing in her hand like white starfire, then Ayla, holding her quarterstaff in front of her, ready to channel the wind. Red comes last, hefting his enormous warhammer like it weighs as little as a wooden bat, the handle and head glowing with fiery runes. Zythos looks around with a smirk on his face. The smell of burning flesh intensifies as his excitement grows. That same headache kicks up behind your eyes again: a reaction to the demon's presence, you suppose, a nausea caused by his aura. "You think this will do anything?" he asks softly. "You think the gladiators I devoured didn't fight back, too? And they were made of far stronger stuff than this. For example…" He raises a craggy hand and crooks it at Briony, who stiffens. "Wouldn't you like to know who you are, my dear?" Zythos asks her, both so softly you barely hear him and in such a ringing voice that you can't get it out of your head. Briony blinks and shakes her head as if she's got water in her ears. "Wouldn't you like your memories back? To know what you've done, who's waiting for you? Whether you have a lover, a family? I can give you that. Just raise your sword and strike these wretches down, as you've done in the arena so many times. It will be so easy. Give yourself to me, and I will tell you all that you long to know." Briony grits her teeth and shakes her head so wildly that her ponytail nearly comes undone. "Shut up," she says through her teeth, blinking furiously. "Monster!" You stand still, tense, watching. You can't do anything to shut him up: you need him talking, distracted; you can't strike him now, or he may escape before Halek can complete his ritual. Where <i>is</i> he? Smirking, Zythos turns to Ayla, who goes still. "What about your family, dear one?" he whispers. "Your lost parents? Surely you'd like to know where they are, why they left you? <i>I</i> know. I know all. And I have the resources of all the Church behind me… I can do anything you ask. I can even bring your parents to you. They are alive, did you know that?" Ayla lets out a long, shuddering breath, her grip on her quarterstaff white-knuckled. She blinks and stares firmly into the middle distance, but says nothing. Finally, Zythos turns to Red, who regards him warily. "And you, Archmage? Surely you'd like the key to traveling between the worlds, exploring the many universes to your heart's content? Wouldn't you like to walk the dark paths?" Red gives him a tight smile. "Sorry," he says. "We sort of already went over this with Quiial. Temptation doesn't really have the same effect on us anymore." Finally, that makes Zythos frown. "Indeed?" he says softly. "Then… what about your other friend?" And he looks up, at the bell tower, exactly where Halek has been hiding. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span><i>Crash!</i></span></div></div>' "talquistaskendi">><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<if settings.music is true>><<audio "battle4" volume 0.1 loop play>><</if>><</nobr>>A streak of silver flashes past you, cutting through the air so swiftly that you feel it like a flash of heat against your face. It impales Jarkyth through the stomach, pinning him as he stands upright and burying its point into the ground behind him. Halek's spear, his <i>hraqa</i>. Moments later, Halek appears, leaping down from the belltower where he's been concealed. While you entered through the ground-level entrances, drawing the attention of the demon, he scaled the side of the building and stealthily entered through the opening of the belltower, waiting in the rafters for his moment to strike. Now he approaches Jarkyth, chanting in a low, fricative, vibrating voice as the Faceless Lord twists and shrieks in fury. The wound in his stomach is already closing, but the spear—its head half-buried in the stone ground—will hopefully keep him in place long enough for Halek to finish his chanting and bind the demon in place. You watch as the Hierophant's limbs suddenly freeze and lock up, a terrible scream ripping from his mouth as Halek seals him in stasis. Halek's grey eyes burn with an intense light as he kicks up the chanting, raising his fist and closing it in a savage gesture. The Hierophant writhes, his head lolling helplessly on his neck, but it seems he can't move, his limbs twisting unnaturally in place as he struggles against the Hunter's hold. You stand at Halek's side, waiting for him to complete the chant so you can kill the Faceless Lord once and for all. You're so focused on waiting for your cue—Halek won't be able to break the chant long enough to speak to you, or even look away—that you almost don't notice Jarkyth's eyes looking up… staring at something above your heads. You glance up. Jarkyth says something, and the enormous bells suspended over your heads… <i>Drop.</i> <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Push Briony out of the way.' 'doublesave'>><<sethealth -20>><<setbriony +3>><<setloyal +1>><<setcompassionate +1>><<if $brionyromanceflag gte 5>><<set $brionyromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Push Halek out of the way.' 'doublesave'>><<sethealth -20>><<sethalek +3>><<setloyal +1>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Push Ayla out of the way.' 'doublesave'>><<sethealth -20>><<setayla +3>><<setloyal +1>><<setcompassionate +1>><<if $aylaromanceflag gte 9>><<set $aylaromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Push Red out of the way.' 'doublesave'>><<sethealth -20>><<setred +3>><<setloyal +1>><<setcompassionate +1>><<if $redromanceflag gte 10>><<set $redromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Jump out of the way.' 'singlesave'>><<setred -3>><<sethalek -3>><<setayla -3>><<setbriony -3>><<setloyal -10>><<setcompassionate -10>><<sethealth -10>><</link>></li> </ul>

You go tumbling against the hard stone floor, and all around you, you hear the loudest crashes you've ever heard in your life, the sound more deafening than cannon fire. <<include "ouchie">>

The two of you go tumbling against the hard stone floor, and all around you, you hear the loudest crashes you've ever heard in your life, the sound more deafening than cannon fire. <<include "ouchie">>

Your skull vibrates—pain rips through your brain—and through your shaking vision you see clouds of stone dust rising into the air, your companions scrambling to recover even as their heads ring with the ear-splitting noise of the shattered bells. Zythos has disappeared, and although you've gone deaf, you surmise that Halek's chant has stopped. You look around and are not quick enough to react before Zythos's strong hand comes darting out of the smoke, dust, and gloom to wrap around your throat. <<nobr>><<if $possessed is true>> A voice sounds suddenly in your head, tearing through you with a serrated edge even more painful than the bleeding in your ears. You cry out: this voice feels <i>wrong</i>, repulsive, like a worm crawling around in your skull. <br><br> <i>Stay your hand!</i> the voice says sharply. <i>This one is mine.</i> <br><br> Zythos, still throttling you, raises his brows. <i>Quiial? How did you get inside the Brightburner?</i> <br><br> Quiial laughs darkly. <i>That's none of your business, Blood-Drinker. If you must know, I evade detection by staying in my realm unless circumstances beckon me forth. The Brightburner has a vacancy that I can occupy, but I am not actively present within $them most of the time. Except to defend what's mine.</i> <br><br> Zythos also laughs. <i>Clever</i>, he says reluctantly. <i>Then, let us part as friends.</i> <br><br> Quiial does not hide his disdain. <i>Go, then.</i> <br><br> Zythos releases you, and you go crashing down to the floor. Both voices in your head leave you, taking the memories of even hearing them away; for a moment you are left to lie in blissful, deafening, empty silence. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "ouchiepossessed">><<if $possessed is true>><<set $jarkythfate to "escaped">><<setreputation -25>><<setorder -20>><<set $halekhate to true>><<setayla -20>><<setbriony -10>><<setred -5>><</if>><</link>></center> <<else>> "Admirable attempt, Brightburner," the demon whispers. His breath is as rancid as a rotting corpse's against your face. His face is twisted into a snarl of fury, but his eyes gleam with wicked laughter. "It would have worked, if the Hunter ritual didn't take so long. Now—what say we get more acquainted? Having you as a host is even more tempting than having Zythos." <br><br> Your stomach rebels at the thought. "You—can't." <br><br> He snickers. "You think you're untouchable just because of who you are?" he whispers. "The Hierophant thought that, too. And so many others." <br><br> The pressure on your windpipe increases, and black spots begin to dance in the corners of your vision. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Scrabble at his hands, clawing them bloody.' 'battlemore'>><<set $help to "">><<set $helparrives to random(1,4)>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Kick at him desperately from where you dangle, aiming for his stomach.' 'battlemore'>><<set $help to "">><<set $helparrives to random(1,4)>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Reach with trembling hands for your weapon.' 'battlemore'>><<set $help to "">><<set $helparrives to random(1,4)>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Look around desperately for a solution—any solution!' 'battlemore'>><<set $help to "">><<set $helparrives to random(1,4)>><</link>></li> </ul> <</if>><</nobr>>

Eventually you are shaken awake by someone. Their voice is muffled and indistinct, but finally you open your eyes to find Briony's distinctive violet eyes drifting in front of you. She's shouting. "—what happened?! Where is he?!" Behind her, Red is helping Halek up out of the wreckage of the bells; blood is pouring out the Hunter's nose and ears. "He's gone," Red says resignedly. "Teleported out of here as soon as he figured out we had a Hunter who could bind him enough to be killed. He could be anywhere in Blest—or for that fact, Hael—now." Briony shakes her head and helps you up. To her left, Ayla is staring at you, hard. "He let you go," she says. "I saw it. He had you in his hands—he was going to break your neck—and then he just… let you go. Why?" You put a hand to your bruised head. "I… I don't know. Maybe it was… <<nobr>><<if $shepherdsknow is true>> because of the Words? Maybe he knew he couldn't touch me. Not really." <br><br> Ayla frowns. "Why would he think that?" <<else>> because of Halek?" <br><br> Ayla frowns. "Halek was out for the count. Why would he care about him?" <</if>><</nobr>> "It doesn't matter," Briony interrupts then. "We all need medical attention—and I think those doors are about to burst, with all the people wanting to come rushing in here. We'd better get out fast, before they see we've wrecked their church and their Hierophant is gone." She helps you hobble to the southern exit, which is miraculously—at the moment—clear of people: Red and Ayla follow, holding Halek up between them, and soon enough you've limped down the busy streets, disappearing once again into the hot bowels of Heth Macoll. <<page_break "..." "endchapter5screen">>

<<set $jarkythhealth to 80>>Jarkyth shakes you like a ragdoll, jerking your thoughts so violently that you can't concentrate. You don't even have the breath to speak a Word of Power. You feel your movements beginning to slow, for your vision beginning to fade… And then you see it. <<nobr>><<if $helparrives is 1>> <<set $help to "Briony">>A burning blade sprouts out of the Hierophant's chest, with the clean sound of something slicing into hard fruit. The smell of burning fills your nose as the sparks showering around the blade cauterize the flesh that it's piercing. <br><br> Briony stands behind the old man, her eyes burning with fury. She withdraws Gonturan from the Hierophant's chest, as quickly and easily as jerking a knife out of a cutting board, and then swings the blade in a mighty arc and cleaves the Faceless Lord's head nearly off his shoulders. <br><br> He drops you, staggering and spouting blood from his half-severed neck. Briony leaps after him and readies her sword for another vicious strike, her blood-streaked pink hair moving in a sudden wind. <<elseif $helparrives is 2>> <<set $help to "Ayla">>The air around you moves in a strange current, almost like water being pulled into a vortex. The pressure builds and builds until the wind scores against you, as ferocious as a hurricane. Zythos can't see, the wind scrubbing his eyes and face with ferocious lashes. <br><br> Then, out of nowhere, the heavy end of a quarterstaff comes sailing through the air like a bat, swung with ferocious strength and fury; it knocks Zythos's head nearly off his shoulders with a sickening <i>thunk.</i> <br><br> He drops you, staggering and spouting blood. Ayla stands over him, her eyes kindling with a strange light. She raises her staff again for another blow, the wind whipping her heavy braid into the air like a flag of victory. <<elseif $helparrives is 3>> <<set $help to "Halek">>A wicked spear sprouts from the Hierophant's throat, cutting off his speech as he gurgles and chokes. The spear is withdrawn, viciously, with the furious strength of ruthless hatred, before being whipped in a wide arc, nearly severing the Hierophant's head from his neck. <br><br> He drops you, staggering and spouting blood. Halek stands over him, blood pouring out of his ears and nose, his grey eyes kindling with a strange and furious light. He's breathing hard, his breath steaming like a bull's. He raises his spear again for another blow, a sudden wind ruffling his white, blood-streaked hair. <<else>> <<set $help to "Red">>An enormous hammer comes swinging out of nowhere, striking Zythos in the head and nearly knocking his skull off his neck with a sickening <i>thud</i>. He staggers, his head nearly bashed to nothing, gurgling and spouting blood—and then he drops you. <br><br> Red stands over him, grim, green eyes blazing with anger and determination. He raises his hammer high above his head again for a second strike, a sudden wind ruffling his red, blood-streaked hair. <</if>><</nobr>> Jarkyth recovers far more quickly than should be possible. Even with his head crooked at an awkward, dangling angle, he surges to his feet in an instant and lashes out at <<c help>> with ferocious, terrifying blows, moving so quickly that he practically blurs. Already his wounds are knitting, the smell of burning flesh and char making your stomach heave as smoke pours out through his pores. The others rush in to harry him: Briony hacks and slashes with her sword, Ayla uses the wind to pull the demon in close, forcing him to fight at close-quarters rather than run away. Red swings with his hammer whenever he can get a clear shot, forcing Zythos to duck and jump to avoid being pulverized. Panting, Halek wipes his mouth and begins his strange, buzzing chant again. Your head spins, but you tell yourself sharply to get ahold of yourself. The team needs you to keep Jarkyth distracted long enough for this damn ritual to work. <ul class="choices"> <<if $mainweapon is "sword" or $mainweapon is "dagger">><li><<link 'Charge in, $mainweapon swinging.' 'chargeinmainweaponswingingjarkyth'>><<if $mainweapon is "sword">><<if $strength gte 65 and $sword gte 70>><<set $jarkythhealth -= 10>><<setsword +3>><<else>><<sethealth -10>><</if>><<else>><<if $strength gte 65 and $dagger gte 70>><<set $jarkythhealth -= 10>><<setdagger +3>><<else>><<sethealth -10>><</if>><</if>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $mainweapon is "gun" or $mainweapon is "bow">><li><<link 'Take shots at the demon from a distance.' 'takeshotsatdemonfromdistancejarkyth'>><<if $mainweapon is "gun">><<if $strength gte 65 and $gun gte 70>><<setgun +3>><<set $jarkythhealth -= 10>><<else>><<sethealth -10>><</if>><<else>><<if $strength gte 65 and $bow gte 70>><<setbow +3>><<set $jarkythhealth -= 10>><<else>><<sethealth -10>><</if>><</if>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $astral gte 55 and $magic gte 55>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Fire at the demon with magical projectiles.</div>' 'fireatdemonmagicalprojectiles'>><<setastral +3>><<setmagic +3>><<set $jarkythhealth -= 10>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Fire at the demon with magical projectiles.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($astral gte 60 and $magic gte 55) or ($arcane gte 60 and $magic gte 55)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Form a cage out of energy to hem the demon in.</div>' 'formcageofastralenergyhem'>><<setastral +3>><<setmagic +3>><<set $jarkythhealth -= 10>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Form a cage out of astral energy to hem the demon in.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <<if (($specialization is "elementalist") and ($astral gte 55 and $magic gte 55)) or ($magic gte 60 and $astral gte 60)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Trap the demon in a tomb of stone.</div>' 'tombofstoneenergy'>><<setastral +3>><<setmagic +3>><<setintelligence -1>><<set $jarkythhealth -= 5>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Trap the demon in a tomb of stone.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($arcane gte 55 and $magic gte 65) or ($specialization is "binder" and $arcane gte 50)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Use your own binding ritual to hold the demon in place while the others attack.</div>' 'usebindingritualholddemoninplaceattack'>><<setarcane +3>><<setmagic +3>><<set $jarkythhealth -= 10>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Use your own binding ritual to hold the demon in place while the others attack.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $specialization is "conjurer" and $arcane gte 55>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Teleport behind the demon and strike from behind.</div>' 'teleportbehinddemonstrikebehind'>><<setarcane +3>><<setmagic +3>><<set $jarkythhealth -= 10>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Teleport behind the demon and strike from behind.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link 'Use yourself as a distraction. "Hey! Over here!"' 'useyourselfasdistractionjarkyth'>><<if $strength gte 65>><<set $jarkythhealth -= 5>><<else>><<sethealth -10>><</if>><</link>></li> </ul>

<<nobr>><<if $mainweapon is "sword">> <<if $strength gte 65 and $sword gte 70>> You dart in and slash at Jarkyth with your sword, opening a wound in his chest and another deep in his side, between his ribs. The demon roars in fury and pain and twists away from you, evading a side-attack from Ayla—but at least you landed something on the bastard. You press on, wielding your blade in a deadly dance. <<else>> You dash in, hacking clumsily, but you just get in the way: you bash into Ayla, sending her off-target with a curse, and you nearly have <i>your</i> head knocked off by a stray swing of Red's hammer. <br><br> While you fumble, Jarkyth slashes at you with a claw made of shadows and opens a bad wound in your side. Grimly, you try and press on. <</if>> <<else>> <<if $strength gte 65 and $dagger gte 70>> You dart in and slash at Jarkyth with your dagger, opening a wound in his chest and another deep in his side, between his ribs. The demon roars in fury and pain and twists away from you, evading a side-attack from Ayla—but at least you landed something on the bastard. You press on, wielding your blade in a deadly dance. <<else>> You dash in, hacking clumsily, but you just get in the way: you bash into Ayla, sending her off-target with a curse, and you nearly have <i>your</i> head knocked off by a stray swing of Red's hammer. <br><br> While you fumble, Jarkyth slashes at you with a claw made of shadows and opens a bad wound in your side. Grimly, you try and press on. <</if>> <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "battlemorei">>

<<nobr>><<if $mainweapon is "gun">> <<if $strength gte 65 and $gun gte 70>> You whip your sword up and fire with expert proficiency, blasting several bullets into Jarkyth's body before he can dodge. Your companions work in tandem with you, stepping effortlessly to the side to give you an opening, pressing in when it seems he's about to escape. Jarkyth's black blood drips all over his red robes and the stone floor. You keep up the assault. <<else>> You try to aim and fire, but your hands are shaky, and everyone is moving too quickly for you to track; you're not able to shoot without hurting one of your friends. Briony barely manages to avoid getting her head blown off. You try and move closer, to get a better shot, but Jarkyth takes advantage of the closed distance and darts towards you, backhanding you and sending you spinning to the ground before you can even react. Mouth bleeding, you scramble to your feet and try to press on while the others distract him. <</if>> <<else>> <<if $strength gte 65 and $bow gte 70>> You whip your bow up and fire with expert proficiency, shooting several arrows into Jarkyth's body before he can dodge. Your companions work in tandem with you, stepping effortlessly to the side to give you an opening, pressing in when it seems he's about to escape. Jarkyth's black blood drips all over his red robes and the stone floor. You keep up the assault as arrows stick out of his body, needles in a morbid pincushion. <<else>> You try to aim and fire, but your hands are shaky, and everyone is moving too quickly for you to track; you're not able to shoot without hurting one of your friends. Briony barely manages to avoid getting an arrow flung into her back. You try and move closer, to get a better shot, but Jarkyth takes advantage of the closed distance and darts towards you, backhanding you and sending you spinning to the ground before you can even react. Mouth bleeding, you scramble to your feet and try to press on while the others distract him. <</if>> <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "battlemorei">>

You blast several flaming orbs of light at Jarkyth, with enough velocity that they slam into him with the power of cannonballs. He's bowled backwards, nearly disintegrating with the hits—if you can just keep up this assault, you'll have him. <<include "battlemorei">>

You form a temple with your hands and speak a spell-word, creating a cage of lightning to trap Jarkyth in. You pull, and the cage begins to shrink, making his flesh sizzle as he screams and rails against the trap. If you can just keep up this assault, you'll have him. <<include "battlemorei">>

You clench your fist together, and stones and rocks from all over the cathedral abruptly fly together to crush Jarkyth into a veritable coccoon of earth. He screams as the pressure begins to grind his bones together, though it also has the side effect of protecting him from the others' deadly assault—at least momentarily. Still, if you can just hold on, you'll have him. <<include "battlemorei">>

You sketch a rune circle in your mind, hold the arcane shapes in front of you, and soon enough, a circle glows at Jarkyth's feet, welding him to the ground as if with impermeable glue. He snarls in frustration and tries to tear himself away, but you hold him still as the others keep up their deadly assault. If you can just hold on, you'll have him. <<include "battlemorei">>

Jarkyth is not the only one who can teleport. You translocate behind him before he even has a chance to turn his head, sending your <<nobr>><<if $mainweapon is "bow">> arrow flying at his neck. He snarls in fury and a little bit of fear, ripping it out of his flesh—but he's beginning to slip. If you can just keep this up, you'll have him. <<elseif $mainweapon is "gun">> bullet flying at the back of his skull. He snarls in fury and a little bit of fear, an apparent bullet in the brain seeming to have no effect on him—but he's beginning to slip. If you can just keep this up, you'll have him. <<else>> blade whistling towards his neck. He snarls in fury and a little bit of fear, clamping a hand to the bleeding gash you've left—he's beginning to slip. If you can just keep this up, you'll have him. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "battlemorei">>

Jarkyth flies at you, his face twisted in an ugly snarl, <<nobr>><<if $strength gte 65>> and you manage to roll out of the way just before he gouges you with his deadly claws made of shadow. Briony leaps on his back while he's distracted, punching a hole through his chest. He stumbles and manages to throw her off, but he's slipping. <<else>> and he's far too quick for you to get out of the way in time. His claws rake against your side, gouging you and sending fiery lines of pain blazing up your body. You stumble out of the way just as Red darts in and aims a gigantic swing at the demon's chest, sending it flying. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "battlemorei">>

The Faceless Lord turns and attempts to dive at Halek, whose chant is growing again in power and volume, but Briony blocks him off and drives him back, aiming one superpowered punch to his face. The blow demolishes his features, so that when the demon staggers to his feet again, there's nothing but a bloody ruin to confront you. A true Faceless Lord, controlling an empty puppet. "Very good," he rumbles—and now his voice is not the smooth baritone of a human's, but the sword-metal, lightning-shrieking sound of a demon's. "I applaud your vigor, even if it is a little desperate. I see your fear, though—you think I will possess you, unless you catch me in thrall with that little ritual. But no need to worry: I cannot steal property that has already been claimed." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"...What?"' 'battlemoreii'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Don\'t listen to him!"' 'battlemoreii'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"God, would you <i>shut up</i> already!"' 'battlemoreii'>><</link>></li> </ul>

He laughs. "Did you really think we would let such power to go unchecked by our own forces?" he asks, looking around—even though he no longer has eyes. <<nobr>><<if $bladetime gte 3>> "You don't think the first thing we did was infiltrate the so-called demon-fighters, the Shepherds, as soon as we heard about them? Like that commander of yours—don't you think we have a leash on him? Why else would an infamous assassin so willingly serve his mortal enemies? <i>We made sure your leader could be controlled</i>, even before he began that blasted order." <<else>> "You don't think the first thing we did was infiltrate the so-called demon-fighters, the Shepherds, as soon as we heard about them?" <</if>><</nobr>> Despite yourself, your heart leaps in your chest. Jarkyth smiles at Red and Ayla, a monstrous, sickly expression in such a ruined face. "And what about the Phantom Shore?" he purrs. "You barely even remember what happened there. Don't you think that's for a reason? Do you even remember how you destroyed Quiial? No, of course you don't… all you remember is waking up with a sense of accomplishment." He lets loose a dark laugh. "And you never questioned it! That's the beauty! You <i>believed</i> because you wanted to, just as if you were trapped in one of his dreams—and you are, really, still. You didn't know his ability to infect the minds of his victims, to have them carry him back to the waking world like a parasite. Even now, I see his shadow hovering over you: measured, marked, and claimed." Red's face goes pale, and Ayla's mouth drops. Jarkyth turns then to Halek, still chanting, hopefully oblivious to what's going on. White light is beginning to gather around him in waves that stir the dust underfoot. "What about Clochus, Blaphemel, Buubas?" Jarkyth taunts. "You don't really think your so-called savior <<c firstname>> erased them with a snap of $her fingers, just like that, do you? You really think it could have been that easy, when it had never been done before? That you were just magically gifted a champion that history had never seen?" "No, it was all a pretty ruse, a scam to ensure you would place your trust in a false hero. What really happened was that the Faceless Lords who were 'vanquished' actually fled into your friends. Trouble,<<nobr>><<if $chaseinvestigation is true>> Chase, <<elseif $rielinvestigation is true>> Riel, <</if>><</nobr>> Halek… All just biding their time, while you groveled and wept for a walking sham. It was playacting for your benefit, nothing more. Meaningless theater. Even <i>$she</i> thought <<print $she>>'d really done it. That's the beauty of all things, too. That $she <<if $plural is true>>were<<else>>was<</if>> so much our pawn that $she didn't even know it. Never suspected." Now Jarkyth turns to you, and his bloody, glinting smile nearly splits his misshappen head in half. His features are beginning to reassemble into a human face, but everyone seems frozen, unable to move. Your heart pounds so hard in your chest that you think it might kill you; and that's the worst part, that it's not even an alien sensation. That you are used to a part of you trying to kill the rest. <i>No, no</i>, you whisper to yourself. <i>It's not true, it's not.</i> Jarkyth laughs, the sound throaty, almost fond. Pitying in a way that also delights him. "My dear," he whispers, though you hear him audibly—you all do. "Don't you see? You've always been <i>our</i> weapon. Our plant. Those powers that you have been given don't really exist. We sacrifice, we pretend, all so you can keep up your little ruse and infiltrate the heart of the Shepherds even deeper. We give you 'special' abilities, status, so that you can rise up and take your place above the adoring people of this world. They'll never suspect it when you turn against them. Their beloved Hero of Haven! Little do they know what you <i>really</i> are. What you really do to the people you love." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'You can\'t stop whispering it. "No... no... no..."' 'battlemoreiii'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'You scream. "YOU\'RE FUCKING LYING!"' 'battlemoreiii'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Tears fill your eyes. "Stop! Please, stop!"' 'battlemoreiii'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'You squeeze your eyes shut. "This isn\'t real, this isn\'t real."' 'battlemoreiii'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Jarkyth laughs; he knows that he's won. "Why do you think the Endarkened came to Blest when you reached adulthood?" he whispers. "Why do you think you wiped out your village? Only a demon could do that, a monster yourself. Why do you think you hear a voice in your head, telling you what to do? <i>Who do you think that is</i>? You fear <i>my</i> possessing you, but it's nothing compared to what's already inside you." He takes a step closer, eyes burning. "You want to know why we call you by another name?" the Faceless Lord whispers. You barely see him; darkness gathers at the corners of your eyes. You can't speak; in this moment, you can't even remember who you are. "Brightburner," the Faceless Lord whispers. Something flexes inside you, writhes, bridling in a response that makes you feel sick. "Our mortal weapon, the Faceless Lord with a face. The light of Tapyt burns so bright inside you." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span><i>No!</i></span></div></div>' "battlemoreiv">><</link>></center>

Suddenly, Halek's voice snaps through the air… then stops. There's a burst of blinding light, and then Jarkyth jolts a few feet up into the air, as if raised by a giant, invisible fist. He screams as his limbs are crushed against his body, his head jerking with violent, sickening twitches as he struggles against the ritual's hold. He can't move—he writhes and thrashes in the air, making a terrible keening sound as Halek raises his hand like a puppeteer pulling a marionette's strings. Acrid black smoke begins to pour of the demon's eyes and mouth and gather in a dark shape in front of him, oily and somehow dense, black blood and shapeless cloud all at once. Halek's voice, raw and hoarse, finally snaps you out of your reverie. "<i>Now, <<c firstname>>!</i>" he shouts. "Kill him! <i>Kill him while I have him trapped!</i>" A voice rings in your head even as Jarkyth screams and screams. <i>Yes, little demon</i>, he whispers. <i>Do as you always do and appease your allies. Keep up the charade. It is just as we planned.</i> You falter. Is destroying Jarkyth actually what the Endarkened want? Your head spins. If they wanted you to appear trustworthy, would he have spoken so candidly in front of your friends, planting the idea of possession in their minds? Or will they rush to comfort you, reassure you, deny it all, and will that play into the demons' hands as well—? Someone seizes you by the shoulders and shakes you. <<nobr>><<if $red gte $ayla and $red gte $briony>> "Gods damn it, <<c halfname2>>!" Red shouts, grabbing your face with his warm, calloused hands. "You are <i>not</i> possessed! You are not an Endarkened! It's typical demon talk, and you are too damn <<if $courage gt $intelligence>> brave <<elseif $intelligence gt $courage>> smart <<elseif $compassionate gte 55>> good <<else>> competent <</if>> to be taken in by it! He's preying on your fears, on all the doubts you've never been able to say out loud! That's what Faceless Lords do—<i>don't let him do it to you!</i>" <<set $redstatus to "He glimpsed both your strength and your vulnerability in Heth Macoll, and respects you for both.">> <<elseif $ayla gte $red and $ayla gte $briony>> "Gods damn it, <<c firstname>>," Ayla screams, slapping you across the face. She grips you with her warm, calloused hands. "Get it together! You are not a fucking demon, and neither are we! He's just trying to get inside your head! Don't let him fucking do it to you, you're better than that! You're better than <i>him</i>! FUCKING KILL THE BASTARD!" <<set $aylastatus to "Getting to know you better in Heth Macoll has deepened the bonds between you.">> <<else>> "<<c firstname>>, listen to me!" Briony shouts. She takes your face gently in her warm, calloused hands and shouts to be heard over the sudden howling wind. "Don't listen to him, please! Halek said this would happen—it's demon talk, he'll say anything to make you doubt yourself, doubt us, doubt <i>everything</i>! He wants your heart to be weak, he wants to make you afraid. He'll use anything against you, but none of it's true, I swear it isn't! You <i>know</i> it isn't, you just need to trust yourself and not the word of a lying, fuck-faced, shit-mouth <i>demon</i>!" <</if>><</nobr>> You take a breath like you're a drowner surfacing from being held underwater. You turn and look at Jarkyth, at the demonic essence leaking out of his mouth to pool in a cloud in front of him, and you see the fear in his eyes… and you see that it's true. He's lying to you. He's desperate. He's <i>afraid</i>. He's terrified of you—and you remember it, then, the bone-deep knowledge that's been with you since the first time you used a Word of Power. You are not the demons' pawn. You are <<c firstname>> <<c surname>>, and you are their worst god damn nightmare. Jarkyth shrieks with fear and agony. <ul class="choices"> <<if $legendarysword is true>><li><<link 'Raise Daystar Clarion and plunge it into his essence, eradicating him from this plane.' 'raisedaystarclarionplungejarkyth'>><<if $sword is 100 and $jarkythhealth lt 80>><<set $jarkythfate to "banished">><<setreputation +5>><<else>><<set $jarkythfate to "escaped">><<setreputation -20>><<setred -5>><<setayla -5>><<sethalek -10>><<setbriony -5>><</if>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $legendarydagger is true>><li><<link 'Raise Whisper and Requiem and strike at his essence, eradicating him from this plane.' 'raisewhisperjarkyth'>><<if $dagger is 100 and $jarkythhealth lt 80>><<set $jarkythfate to "banished">><<setreputation +5>><<else>><<set $jarkythfate to "escaped">><<setreputation -20>><<setred -5>><<setayla -5>><<sethalek -10>><<setbriony -5>><</if>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $legendarygun is true>><li><<link 'Raise the Thunderer and blast his essence to high Hael.' 'raisethunderjarkyth'>><<if $gun is 100 and $jarkythhealth lt 80>><<set $jarkythfate to "banished">><<setreputation +5>><<else>><<set $jarkythfate to "escaped">><<setreputation -20>><<setred -5>><<setayla -5>><<sethalek -10>><<setbriony -5>><</if>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $legendarybow is true>><li><<link 'Raise the Warpwood Striker and strike at his essence, eradicating him from this plane.' 'raisewarpwoodjarkyth'>><<if $bow is 100 and $jarkythhealth lt 80>><<set $jarkythfate to "banished">><<setreputation +5>><<else>><<set $jarkythfate to "escaped">><<setreputation -20>><<setred -5>><<setayla -5>><<sethalek -10>><<setbriony -5>><</if>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link 'Speak a Word of Power and destroy him forever.' 'speakwordofpowerjarkythdestroy'>><<set $godspeaker -= 1>><<set $jarkythfate to "destroyed">><<setreputation +10>><<set $jarkythdead to true>><<set $halekstatus to "His respect for you grew during your teamwork in Heth Macoll.">><<set $facelesslordsdead += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Use your magic and tear him to pieces with your power.' 'usemagictearjarkythtopieces'>><<if $magic lt 70 or $jarkythhealth gte 80>><<set $jarkythfate to "escaped">><<setreputation -20>><<setred -5>><<setayla -5>><<sethalek -10>><<setbriony -5>><<elseif ($magic gte 70 and $magic lt 77) and $jarkythhealth lt 80>><<set $jarkythfate is "banished">><<setreputation +5>><<elseif $jarkythhealth lt 80 and $magic gte 77>><<set $jarkythdead to true>><<set $facelesslordsdead += 1>><<set $jarkythfate to "destroyed">><<setreputation +10>><</if>><</link>></li> </ul>

<<nobr>><<if $sword is 100 and $jarkythhealth lt 80>> You step closer to the bound demon, feeling it recoil in terror as you draw near. You draw Clarion, feeling it heat beneath your hands, and then you bring the sword above your head and strike, piercing the demon's suspended essence at its core. <br><br> You feel the demon's essence dwindle immediately, bleeding out from your sword like it's a wound in the air—not enough to destroy it altogether, but enough to reduce it to ash and send it back to Hael weaker than a worm. You watch as the black smoke writhes around your blade, shrivels… then shrinks to nothing and disappears. <br><br> The light of the ritual fades, and you are left standing there, breathing heavily. Jarkyth is gone, sealed away in Hael again, and you are alive. And very much not a demon. <br><br> Zythos's body drops to the ground with a groan. <br><br> <<include "battlemorev">> <<else>> You draw your sword and strike, but a mortal weapon is nothing against one of the five most powerful demons in Hael. Clarion bounces off of Jarkyth's essence like it's made of metal; there's a flash of light as the blade impacts, and a feeling like black lightning shoots through your bones and sends you hurtling backwards. You skitter across the ground and crash into Halek's legs: he's unable to dodge you for fear of breaking the ritual, but his concentration is shattered anyway, and the light of his grace abruptly stutters and fades. <br><br> For a moment, the Jarkyth's essence hovers there in the air, like a dark cloud of gnats, before it swarms upwards, darts out of the opening in the high bell tower, and disappears into the light of the morning sky. <br><br> Zythos's body drops to the ground with a groan. <br><br> <<include "jarkythescaped">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $dagger is 100 and $jarkythhealth lt 80>> You step closer to the bound demon, feeling it recoil in terror as you draw near. You draw your daggers, feeling them heat beneath your hands, and then strike, piercing the demon's suspended essence at its core. <br><br> You feel the demon's essence dwindle immediately, bleeding out from your stab like it's a wound in the air—not enough to destroy it altogether, but enough to reduce it to ash and send it back to Hael weaker than a worm. You watch as the black smoke writhes around your knives, shrivels… then shrinks to nothing and disappears. <br><br> The light of the ritual fades, and you are left standing there, breathing heavily. Jarkyth is gone, sealed away in Hael again, and you are alive. And very much not a demon. <br><br> Zythos's body drops to the ground with a groan. <br><br> <<include "battlemorev">> <<else>> You draw your daggers and strike, but a mortal weapon is nothing against one of the five most powerful demons in Hael. Your daggers bounce off of Jarkyth's essence; there's a flash of light as they impact, and a feeling like black lightning shoots through your bones and sends you hurtling backwards. You skitter across the ground and crash into Halek's legs: he's unable to dodge you for fear of breaking the ritual, but his concentration is shattered anyway, and the light of his grace abruptly stutters and fades. <br><br> For a moment, the Jarkyth's essence hovers there in the air, like a dark cloud of gnats, before it swarms upwards, darts out of the opening in the high bell tower, and disappears into the light of the morning sky. <br><br> Zythos's body drops to the ground with a groan. <br><br> <<include "jarkythescaped">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $gun is 100 and $jarkythhealth lt 80>> You raise the Thunderer and whisper to it, feeling the metal heat beneath your hand. When you squeeze the trigger, a burst of shrapnel explodes from the barrel, striking the demon's essence at its core. <br><br> You feel the demon's essence dwindle immediately, bleeding out from your shot like it's a wound in the air—not enough to destroy it altogether, but enough to reduce it to ash and send it back to Hael weaker than a worm. You watch as the black smoke writhes around your bullets, shrivels… then shrinks to nothing and disappears. <br><br> The light of the ritual fades, and you are left standing there, breathing heavily. Jarkyth is gone, sealed away in Hael again, and you are alive. And very much not a demon. <br><br> Zythos's body drops to the ground with a groan. <br><br> <<include "battlemorev">> <<else>> You fire, but a mortal weapon is nothing against one of the five most powerful demons in Hael. The bullet flies true to its target, but at the last minute, somehow Jarkyth deflects it—and sends it flying straight at Halek! <br><br> He doesn't move, but Briony raises a hasty magic shield in time to deflect the hit, and the Hunter's concentration is broken enough that Jarkyth wriggles out of his hold and escapes. For a moment, the demon's essence hovers there in the air, like a dark cloud of gnats, before it swarms upwards, darts out of the opening in the high bell tower, and disappears into the light of the morning sky. <br><br> Zythos's body drops to the ground with a groan. <br><br> <<include "jarkythescaped">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $bow is 100 and $jarkythhealth lt 80>> You raise the Warpwood Striker and whisper to it, feeling the wood hum and heat beneath your hand. When you loose your arrow, it flies true, striking the demon's essence at its core. <br><br> You feel the demon's essence dwindle immediately, bleeding out from your arrow like it's a wound in the air—not enough to destroy it altogether, but enough to reduce it to ash and send it back to Hael weaker than a worm. You watch as the black smoke writhes around your arrow, shrivels… then shrinks to nothing and disappears. <br><br> The light of the ritual fades, and you are left standing there, breathing heavily. Jarkyth is gone, sealed away in Hael again, and you are alive. And very much not a demon. <br><br> Zythos's body drops to the ground with a groan. <br><br> <<include "battlemorev">> <<else>> You fire, but a mortal weapon is nothing against one of the five most powerful demons in Hael. The arrow flies true to its target, but at the last minute, somehow Jarkyth deflects it—and sends it flying straight at Halek! <br><br> He doesn't move, but Briony raises a hasty magical shield in time to deflect the arrow, and the Hunter's concentration is broken enough that Jarkyth wriggles out of his hold and escapes. For a moment, the demon's essence hovers there in the air, like a dark cloud of gnats, before it swarms upwards, darts out of the opening in the high bell tower, and disappears into the light of the morning sky. <br><br> Zythos's body drops to the ground with a groan. <br><br> <<include "jarkythescaped">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<achieve "achieve_blooddrinker">><<notify_achievement "The Fifth Faceless Lord" "Destroyed Jarkyth, the Blood-Drinker, <br> and saved Blest from the insidious grasp of a possessed Hierophant.">><<if settings.music is true>><<audio ":playing" fadeoverto 5 0>><</if>><</nobr>>You scream as your power meets with the Faceless Lord's in one last ferocious clash, lightning bolts striking each other, tsunamis colliding with mountains, white-hot stars pulling each other together in a deadly explosion. You feel the demon's essence dwindle and snuff out immediately, like a candle being blown out by a strong gust of clean wind. You scream again, feel your vision white out with the effort of it—but you feel it down to your very soul. It is as true as the sun and moon, as immutable as the laws of physics. Jarkyth is dead, and he is never coming back. And that is real, immutable fact. The light fades, and you are left standing there, breathing heavily. You've destroyed him once and for all, and you are alive. And very much not a demon. Zythos's body drops to the ground with a groan. <<include "battlemorev">>

<<nobr>><<nobr>><<if settings.music is true>><<audio ":playing" fadeoverto 5 0>><</if>><</nobr>><<if $magic lt 70 or $jarkythhealth gte 80>> You raise your hand and blast Jarkyth with the strongest magical attack you can summon, all the rage and hurt pouring out of you like magma from an erupting volcano. It bursts against the Endarkened's extracted essence in a torrential wave of light and energy, and you feel him flail, feel him screech in pain… <br><br> But then you feel something go wrong. <br><br> Jarkyth manages to deflect your burst of magic, sending it bouncing back at you and your companions. You try to duck, and Halek's power falters and skitters to a halt, flickering out in one harsh burst of white light. <br><br> Jarkyth's essence hovers in front of you for a moment, looking like a dark cloud of gnats. Then it dissipates, swarming out the opening in the high bell tower and disappearing into the morning sky. <br><br> Zythos's body drops to the ground with a groan. <br><br> <<include "jarkythescaped">> <<elseif ($magic gte 70 and $magic lt 77) and $jarkythhealth lt 80>> You scream as your power meets with the Faceless Lord's in one last ferocious clash, lightning bolts striking each other, tsunamis colliding with mountains, white-hot stars pulling each other together in a deadly explosion. <br><br> You feel the demon's essence erode immediately—not enough to destroy it altogether, but enough to reduce it to ash and send it back to Hael weaker than a worm. You scream again, feel your vision white out with the effort of it—but your soul shunts the demon away, through the worldwalls and out of Blest altogether. <br><br> The light fades, and you are left standing there, breathing heavily. Jarkyth is gone, sealed away in Hael again, and you are alive. And very much not a demon. <br><br> Zythos's body drops to the ground with a groan. <br><br> <<include "battlemorev">> <<elseif $jarkythhealth lt 80 and $magic gte 77>> <<achieve "achieve_blooddrinker">><<notify_achievement "The Fifth Faceless Lord" "Destroyed Jarkyth, the Blood-Drinker, <br> and saved Blest from the insidious grasp of a possessed Hierophant.">> You scream as your power meets with the Faceless Lord's in one last ferocious clash, lightning bolts striking each other, tsunamis colliding with mountains, white-hot stars pulling each other together in a deadly explosion. <br><br> You feel the demon's essence dwindle and snuff out immediately, like a candle being blown out by a strong gust of clean wind. You scream again, feel your vision white out with the effort of it—but you feel it down to your very soul. Jarkyth is dead, and he is never coming back. And that is real, immutable fact. <br><br> The light fades, and you are left standing there, breathing heavily. You've destroyed him, and you are alive. And very much not a demon. <br><br> Zythos's body drops to the ground with a groan. <br><br> <<include "battlemorev">> <<else>> <<include "jarkythescaped">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "battlemorevi">><<set $halekstatus to "His respect for you grew during your teamwork in Heth Macoll.">><</link>></center>

<<set $hierophantscan to false>>Later, you manage to retain consciousness as your friends gather themselves and check each other for grievous wounds. Halek is so worn out from the Hunter ritual and the effort of extracting a Faceless Lord from its mortal vessel that he can barely speak—but he wears a look of quiet triumph on his face. You imagine you do, as well. Briony approaches you and touches your shoulder. "<<c firstname>>?" she asks softly. "We should go soon. The crowds are bound to be knocking the doors down after all this commotion—I don't particularly fancy having to face them." "We can't leave yet," Ayla says then. She looks weary, scratched and bruised, but otherwise like her same old self. She jerks her head towards Zythos. "What do we do about <i>him</i>?" Red is speaking quietly to the old man as he kneels on the ground, looking around in a bewildered way at the ruined church, his bloody clothes. Zythos seems utterly confused as to how he got here—but you know that could be a ruse. Halek confirms that there's no trace of demonic Taint lingering in his soul, not with Jarkyth well and truly gone, but it's hard to feel warmly towards the man. He does, after all, have the same face. Red looks up as you approach, then beckons you to the side, away from Zythos. "He doesn't seem to remember anything," he whispers. "But he could be faking. There's no real way to tell if he welcomed Jarkyth into his soul, offered himself up in a pact as a willing vessel, or if he was taken unwillingly. Now that Jarkyth's gone, even a Hunter can't tell retrospectively. What do you think we should do?" "Let me talk to him," you say wearily. You almost don't recognize your own voice, it's so tired and raw. You step stiffly forward until Zythos looks up at you with frightened eyes. He takes in your uniforms and murmurs, "Did the Autarch send you, my children?" <<include "hierophant">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "jarkythescapedi">><</link>></center>

<<set $hierophantscan to false, $halekstatus to "He's disappointed that Jarkyth escaped in Heth Macoll.">>Later, Briony punches the wall in frustration. "Damn it!" she curses. She and Halek tried to go chasing after the demon, but his essence dissipated to the nine winds: he's gone. She hangs her head between her knees, looking defeated. "I can't believe he got away!" Beside her, Halek is stonily silent. "We'll have to dispatch more Shepherds," Red says finally, running a hand through his hair and blowing out a long, slow breath. "Try to head the thing off, if we can. The problem is it could be anywhere, hiding in a puddle, or a cave, or another person…" Ayla snaps at him like an irate dog. "Enough of that," she says, glancing pointedly at you. "We did what we could, and at least the thing is out of Heth Macoll and the Hierophant now." She glances at the frail old man kneeling on the ground, looking in bewilderment at the ruined church bells. "Speaking of which, what do we do with him?" You glance at him. "Does he remember anything?" Red sighs again. "He claims not to," he says. "But he could be faking. There's no real way to tell if he welcomed Jarkyth into his soul, offered himself up in a pact as a willing vessel, or if he was taken unwillingly. Now that Jarkyth's gone, even a Hunter can't tell retrospectively. What do you think we should do?" "Let me talk to him," you say wearily. You almost don't recognize your own voice, it's so tired and raw. You step stiffly forward until Zythos looks up at you with frightened eyes. He takes in your uniforms and murmurs, "Did the Autarch send you, my children?" <<include "hierophant">>

<ul class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("werenoteyourchildrentalquist")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"We\'re not your children."</div>' 'werenoteyourchildrentalquist'>><<setcompassionate -5>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("areyouallrightalquist")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"Are you all right?"</div>' 'areyouallrightalquist'>><<setcompassionate +5>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("doyourememberanythingtalquist")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Do you remember anything?"</div>' 'doyourememberanythingtalquist'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("wereyouthesponsorgladiatortalquist")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Were you the sponsor of a gladiator arena here in Heth Macoll?"</div>' 'wereyouthesponsorgladiatortalquist'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("didyouimplementbloodritualstalquist")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Did you implement blood rituals as a method of worship?"</div>' 'didyouimplementbloodritualstalquist'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("askhimoutrighttalquistpact")>><<link '<div class="question-item">Ask him outright. "Did you make a pact with Jarkyth, or did he possess you against your will?"</div>' 'askhimoutrighttalquistpact'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $psionic gte 60 and $hierophantscan is false>><<link '<div class="question-item">Scan his thoughts to discern the truth.</div>' 'scanhisthoughtstalquist'>><<setpsionic +1>><<setmagic +1>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Scan his thoughts to discern the truth.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link 'You turn to the others. You\'ve made your decision.' 'hierophantfate'>><</link>></li> </ul>

He flinches, his face draining of color. You can tell he's not used to speaking to Diminished, especially not like this, where you hold all the power and he's helpless at your feet. <<include "hierophant">>

He feels his neck slowly: he seems perfectly whole and intact, the demon having healed his flesh right before it was bound for the ritual. "I… I think so." <<include "hierophant">>

Zythos shakes his head slowly. He seems like a frail old man now, a little doddering: nothing like the powerful, mocking Sponsor that held you hostage at dinner. "Not… no, nothing," he says. He avoids your eyes, but that could just be shame. "The last thing I remember is… praying. In church. That's all." <<include "hierophant">>

Zythos knits his brow. "What do you mean? The One-God forbids Xer augurs from gambling. What interest would I have in such a thing?" Ayla regards him with narrowed eyes. "Very convincing," she mutters. "That's exactly what a Hierophant would say if he wanted to cover up his involvement." The Hierophant sputters. "I—I cover up nothing! If I was involved in any crimes, it was because the demon was in control, not me!" It could be the truth, or it could be a convenient lie to absolve himself of any responsibility. <<include "hierophant">>

Zythos frowns. "What?" He blinks owlishly. "I… I'm not sure. I suppose that sounds familiar, but that could just be the remnants of my memories from when the demon had me in his grasp…" Interesting. <<include "hierophant">>

A spasm of indignation crosses his face. "You—you forget to whom you speak!" the Hierophant cries, his eyes bulging. "The audacity! How dare you ask me such a thing!" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'You harden your voice. "Answer the question. Now."' 'youhardenvoiceanswerquestionhierophant'>><<setcompassionate -4>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'You soften your approach. "Please, Your Grace. We want to help you."' 'considerapproachhierophant'>><<setcharisma +1>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Stare him down. "That seems exactly how a demonic cultist would react."' 'starehimdownhierophantdemonic'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

He quails and says faintly, "No, no… I would never do such a thing…" <<include "hierophant">>

He huffs, but says nothing more. <<include "hierophant">>

The Hierophant's face mottles with rage, but he says nothing more. <<include "hierophant">>

You riffle through the Hierophant's thoughts, but the time he was inhabited by the demon is unclear, hazy, as you would expect of someone possessed. You can't tell how long another being was in control of thoughts, and the memories surrounding the possession (before and after) are equally blurred. You see his fear, though, plain as day. He desperately hopes you will not accuse him of consorting willingly with demons. He wants to live, but that's not surprising. Pretty much everyone on earth does. Your gut, looking at all of this, leans towards the Hierophant being an unwilling victim in this rather than a conspirator. But your mind whispers that you can't totally be sure. <<include "hierophant">>

"What do you want to do?" Briony asks. She looks at the trembling old man, and her face is full of pity. "I—I think he's frightened, and sad, and… I hope he's innocent. If we don't know for sure, I suppose we should just… let him go, and keep an eye on him." Ayla crosses her arms. "What if he is in cahoots with them, though?" she asks. "As soon as we let him out of our sights, he'll be calling back to his bosses in Hael and giving them the scoop on everything. Maybe he'll even summon another demon into himself, and the whole cycle will start again." Red sighs. "I don't know if I can stomach killing an old man on that off-chance," he says wearily, "but I also know that our duties bind us to do things for the greater good—even when they're undesirable. <<nobr>><<if $jarkythfate is "escaped">> There's also the possibility that Jarkyth could find him again and re-possess him, when all is clear. So there's that." <<else>> It's a risk to let him go. My gut says to take that risk, but I know I'm responsible for more than just myself, now." <</if>><</nobr>> <<nobr>><<if $jarkythfate is "escaped">> "Kill him and be done with it," Halek says tiredly. "If Jarkyth could possess him once, he'll do it again, unwilling or not." <<else>> "I truly don't care," Halek drawls. "If you were all Hunters, you'd have killed him already and spat on his corpse, then had a party on it. But you're not, so I'll abide by whatever you want to do. Just get me to a bed so I can sleep forever." <</if>><</nobr>> Red glances at you. "Well, <<c firstname>>?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Let him go. He was a victim of Jarkyth, just like any of us."' 'lethimgovictimofjarkyth'>><<set $hierophantalive to true>><<setcompassionate +8>><<setreputation +5>><<setloyal +5>><<setorder +20>><<setbriony +3>><<setred +3>><<setayla -3>><<if $jarkythfate is "escaped">><<sethalek -5>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'ll let him live, on a few conditions. He owes his life to the Shepherds now."' 'illlethimlivejarkythowes'>><<setcunning +8>><<setloyal +5>><<set $hierophantfavor to true>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Draw your weapon, one last time. "We can\'t take the risk that he\'s working with the demons."' 'drawyourweapononelasttimejarkyth'>><<setcompassionate -15>><<set $hierophantdead to true>><<setorder -20>><<setloyal -8>><<setbriony -3>><<setred -3>><<setayla +3>><<setreputation -10>><<if $jarkythfate is "escaped">><<sethalek +5>><</if>><</link>></li> </ul>

<<achieve "achieve_hierophantsmercy">><<notify_achievement "Soul of Saint Cecily" "Spared the Western Hierophant, one of the most powerful people on the Continent.">>Zythos's face brightens. "Thank you, my child," he says fervently. He grabs your hands and kisses them. "You are blessed, you are a divine gift. Thank you, thank you!" "Well," Red says wearily as the old man scrambles to his knees to get away from you. "That's that, I suppose." <<include "hierophantfatei">>

<<achieve "achieve_hierophantsfavor">><<notify_achievement "The Hierophant\'s Regard" "Gained the Western Hierophant as a potential ally.">>Zythos nods rapidly when you explain to him your position. "Of course," he says quickly. "You saved my life, after all, saved me from that wretched demon—like angels! Arbiters of the One-God. I'll do anything you want! Just ask!" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"You\'re going to sing the Shepherds\' praises all across the land." With the Hierophant\'s support, your reputation will improve immensely in the eyes of the public.' 'youregoingsingshepherdshierophant'>><<setreputation +10>><<set $army += 3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You\'re going to show your gratitude to the Shepherds in gold." The Hierophant is one of the wealthiest people on the Continent. With donations from his coffers, your resources will greatly expand.' 'youregoingshowgratitudeshepherdshierophant'>><<set $shepherdgold += 5000>><<set $resources += 1>><<setreputation +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You agree to have Shepherds monitor you from now on. They are to have access to all your records, all your doings, anytime we please." You don\'t want rewards; you want risk mitigation.' 'youagreemonitorhierophant'>><<setreputation +3>><<setloyal +5>><<setorder +5>><<set $resources -= 1>><</link>></li> </ul>

"Of course," Zythos blurts. "And I will be sincere, too! You have no idea how grateful I am!" <<include "lethierophantlivei">>

"Of course," Zythos blurts. "A-anything. I'll give you anything, if you let me live." <<include "lethierophantlivei">>

The Hierophant's face drains of color. "That—there is no precedent!" he sputters. "If I give you that much power over my office…" You gesture around to the ruined bells lying around you, the blood-stained church. "None of this has precedent. And we both work for the Autarch. So long as you stay out of trouble, this will be as un-invasive as possible." When he opens his mouth again to protest, you add: "You really have no recourse here, Your Grace. You were possessed by a demon, through-and-through, and we are an order of demon-hunters. It's this or exile." He has nothing he can say to that. "…Fine." <<include "lethierophantlivei">>

You shake on it. "Good. It's a deal." <<include "hierophantfatei">>

<<achieve "achieve_hierophantskiller">><<notify_achievement "Terminarch" "Killed one of the most powerful people on the Continent: the Western Hierophant.">> <<nobr>><<if $jarkythfate is "escaped">> "Or that Jarkyth is waiting to possess his favorite vessel again," you add. <</if>><</nobr>> The old man's eyes widen as you approach him, $mainweapon dangling from your hand. "Wh-what are you doing? No, please—stay back—!" <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "weaponsjarkythi">><</link>></center>

<center><div class="dot"> <<timed 1s t8n>> ... <<next>>... <<next>>... <</timed>><span class="next">[[Next|weaponsjarkythii]]</span></div></center> <<timed 5s>><<goto "weaponsjarkythii">><</timed>>

After Jarkyth, it is stupidly easy to kill Zythos, his host. Nothing more than mortal bones and flesh. Afterwards, you wipe the blood from your hands and say, "The demons killed him, and we weren't able to save him." The others hesitate, but nod. It is true, in its own way. <<include "hierophantfatei">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "hierophantfateii">><</link>></center>

Afterwards, you prepare to leave the church, helping each other up and limping towards the southwestern cloister. Halek speaks roughly again just before you reach the great oaken doors, which, miraculously, have not been knocked down by the crowds outside. You wonder if they've even noticed anything amiss. "What are we going to tell people?" he asks. "If they find out what happened here—that their Western Hierophant was a Faceless Lord, that those blood sacrifices were all feeding a demon and not the One-God—there are going to be riots. Maybe worse than riots. It's going to cause upheaval all across the Continent." "But don't the people deserve to know?" Briony asks, scrubbing a hand through her bloodied hair until it sticks up in sweat-slicked spikes. "They've been deceived, by someone they trusted. They're going to keep doing the blood sacrifices if they don't know the truth about them." <<nobr>><<if $jarkythfate is not "escaped">> <br><br> "That shouldn't totally matter," Red puts in then. "Seeing as how Jarkyth is gone, the rituals won't have any effect on him anymore. They'll be just that: rituals, demonstrations of faith, religious traditions. Those things can be really important to people: would it be right to tear them away if it doesn't really serve a purpose to do so anymore? What good would it do to damage people's faith and fracture their happiness when the demon is gone?" <</if>><</nobr>> "Ignorance isn't bliss," Ayla adds. "It's just ignorance. I'll do whatever we decide, I guess, but it doesn't sit right with me to keep quiet on it when it's the Church we'd be protecting. You know, the thing that thinks God hates us and supports people killing and oppressing our kind?" "The Church isn't all like that," Halek says. "There's good in it, too." "The Western Hierophant's Church is like that." They debate the matter for a bit, but finally their voices dwindle into silence: everyone is just too tired to argue passionately. But you are likely going to be greeted by a lot of people when you walk out those doors, so you need to make your decision now. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"We keep quiet about this. No one needs to know, and their knowing doesn\'t help anybody, anyway. It will just sow chaos."' 'hierophantfateiii'>><<if $jarkythfate is "escaped">><<setorder -5>><<else>><<setorder +25>><</if>><<setloyal +20>><<setbriony -3>><<setayla -3>><<setred +3>><<sethalek +3>><<set $hierophanttruth to false>><<setreputation +10>><<achieve "achieve_orderaboveall">><<notify_achievement "Order Above All" "Kept the peace by hiding the truth about the Church, the Hierophant, and their ties with the Endarkened… no matter the consequences.">><</link>></li> <li><<link '"We tell the people the truth. They deserve to hear it, even if it creates disorder and turmoil."' 'wetellpeopletruthendchapter5'>><<setorder -25>><<setloyal -20>><<setbriony +3>><<setayla +3>><<setred -3>><<sethalek -3>><<set $hierophanttruth to true>><<if $jarkythfate is "escaped">><<setreputation -20>><<else>><<setreputation +20>><</if>><<achieve "achieve_truthteller">><<notify_achievement "Herald of Truth" "Spread the truth about the Church, the Hierophant, and their ties with Endarkened… no matter the consequences.">><</link>></li> </ul>

<<nobr>><<if $jarkythfate is "escaped">> "Even if they find out we botched the job, and the thing that's menaced, deceived, and exploited them is actually still out there?" Halek asks skeptically. <br><br> You sigh. "Even that." <br><br> <<include "hierophantfateiii">> <<else>> <<include "hierophantfateiii">> <</if>><</nobr>>

The others nod, though some faces look reluctant. Briony cocks her head, listening to Gonturan as she pushes open the church door and peeks her head out: the coast is currently clear, but you'll have to walk through the crowded streets anyway, so it's only a moment's reprieve. And you are all covered in blood, church dust, demon ichor, and grime. You're going to make quite a sight, even to the hardened denizens to Heth Macoll. "Better brace yourself," she advises as she helps you out into the blazing morning light. "We still have to get back to the inn, and there'll be a mob in between us and there, I'm sure." You sigh. "Our job is never done, it seems. There's always one thing after another." Briony nods, looking thoughtful. "Do you think the job has a more permanent opening, though?" she asks. She gives you a tired smile. "I've been thinking about where I'll go, after all this. <<nobr>><<if $natheoutcome is not "killed">> Nathe will go back to his family. <<else>> The others will go back to their homes. <</if>><</nobr>> But I don't know where my family is, or if I even have one. I'm sort of at a loose end. And being a Shepherd seems fun." You stare at her as if she's gone insane, and she laughs, the sound bright and clear in the glassy air. "What? It's more fun than being a gladiator, anyway! That fight had my heart racing!" She raises her fists in the air in a celebratory manner, albeit gingerly. "I've got a taste, and now I want more. <<nobr>><<if $natheoutcome is "forfeit" and $wyvernoutcome is "won">> I'm just dying to obliterate some more demons. I bet some of the other gladiators would be interested in joining, too. Putting our fighting skills to good use, helping people, and actually getting paid for it sounds nice. Much better than fighting each other to the death in forced matches." <<else>> I'm just dying to obliterate some more demons." <</if>><</nobr>> You can't deny that she'd be a useful asset to the Order: anyone who can knock down stone walls with her bare fists is bound to be a powerful weapon against the Endarkened. And her energy seems limitless, which is always another plus. "I say: of course you should join," Red says from your other side. "We'll have to come up with a last name for you, though—at least until you uncover your real one. 'Officer Stormbreaker' doesn't quite work." Briony smiles. "Why not?" she asks. "I'm tired of leaving my past behind me and keeping what I have. And what I have—what I <i>know</i>—is that I'm Briony. Briony Stormbreaker." <i>And I am <<c firstname>> <<c surname>></i>, a tiny voice inside you whispers as the others chatter on. It's your own voice, yours and yours alone. And if there are any listening presences who want to object to that... They don't say a word. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>End Chapter</span></div></div>' "endchapter5screen">><</link>></center>

<div class="box"><span class="endchaptersummary"> <center><span class="heading">Chapter Summary</span></center> <br> <span class="bulleticon"><span class="fas fa-chevron-right"></span></span>&emsp; Blade and Riel informed you that reports were reaching the Shepherds about a gladiator's arena in Heth Macoll: one that was capturing Diminished slaves to force them to fight for spectators' and gamblers' amusement. You traveled west across the Shield Peaks with Halek, Ayla, and Red in order to investigate this matter, eventually posing as a captured slave yourself in order to gain information about the arena's operations and founders. <br><br><span class="bulleticon"><span class="fas fa-chevron-right"></span></span>&emsp; Inside the arena, you met Briony and Nathe, two gladiators who were—unbeknownst to you—secretly orchestrating their own rebellion against their captors. Briony informed you that you would be fighting Nathe the next day, and asked you to throw the fight in order to spare him from being executed for his poor fighting record. <br><br><span class="bulleticon"><span class="fas fa-chevron-right"></span></span>&emsp; <<if $natheoutcome is "lost">> You wound up naturally losing the fight to Nathe anyway, and were pitted against a wyvern in your next fight as a result. Briony jumped in to aid you as thanks for her friend. <<elseif $natheoutcome is "won">> You won the fight against Nathe, provoking Briony's anger. You were then pitted against her in the next fight, and she did not go easy on you. <<elseif $natheoutcome is "forfeit">>You defeated Nathe in reality, but deliberately threw the match in order to save his life. You earned both his and Briony's gratitude for this, and she offered to jump in to help you against your next match: a battle against an angry wyvern. <<elseif $natheoutcome is "killed">> You not only defeated Nathe, but killed him in order to spare him from later execution by your captors. Briony was both heartbroken and enraged, and challenged you to a fight against her immediately afterward. <</if>> <br><br><span class="bulleticon"><span class="fas fa-chevron-right"></span></span>&emsp; <<if $brionyoutcome is "won">> You defeated Briony and earned the title $gladiatortitle. <<elseif $brionyoutcome is "lost">> Briony defeated you, and you earned the title $gladiatortitle. <<elseif $wyvernoutcome is "won">>You defeated the wyvern and even landed the killing blow against it, earning the title $gladiatortitle. <<else>>Although you and Briony ultimately managed to defeat the wyvern, you were knocked out by it and briefly turned to stone during your fight. You earned the title $gladiatortitle as a result. <</if>> <br><br><span class="bulleticon"><span class="fas fa-chevron-right"></span></span>&emsp; Later, you were invited to a celebratory dinner with the arena's sponsor, a mysterious man named Zythos. You soon discovered that the "Sponsor" was not only the Western Hierophant of the One-God's Church, one of the four most powerful religious leaders in the world… but he was also possessed by Jarkyth, a Faceless Lord known as the Blood-Drinker and a glutton of violence. <br><br><span class="bulleticon"><span class="fas fa-chevron-right"></span></span>&emsp; In order to confront the Faceless Lord and defeat it, you needed to break out of the gladiator's arena first. Briony launched her long-planned revolt, and in the process, <<if $tovrikkill is true>> the arena's master of operations, Tovrik, was brutally killed. <<elseif $sparetovrik is true>> the arena's master of operations, Tovrik, was spared from being brutally killed. <</if>> <<if $thummakilled is true>>Thumma, a Binder who had been under his thrall, was also killed. <</if>> The rest of the arena burned, and the rebel gladiators escaped safely. <br><br><span class="bulleticon"><span class="fas fa-chevron-right"></span></span>&emsp; You confronted the Faceless Lord at a nearby cathedral, planning to corner him on a holy day where he would be forced to appear in public. The demon fed your mind with lies and fear, <<if $jarkythfate is "escaped">> and in the end, it managed to escape. <<elseif $jarkythfate is "banished">> but in the end, you prevailed and banished it back to Hael. <<elseif $jarkythfate is "destroyed">> but in the end, you prevailed with the help of your friends and destroyed it once and for all. <</if>> <<if $possessed is false>><br><br><span class="bulleticon"><span class="fas fa-chevron-right"></span></span>&emsp; The true Western Hierophant was freed of the demon's control, and you were left with the power to decide his fate. <<if $hierophantfavor is true>> You left him alive, though on the condition that he owed the Shepherds a favor. <<elseif $hierophantalive is true>> You let him live, despite not knowing which actions were the demon's and which were his. <<else>> You ended up executing him in order to be as safe as possible. <</if>><</if>> <<if $possessed is false>><br><br><span class="bulleticon"><span class="fas fa-chevron-right"></span></span>&emsp; However, the damage had been done, and the Faceless Lord's actions had twisted the Church into believing that animal sacrifices were suitable offerings to the One-God, when in reality, they were fueling the bloodthirsty Faceless Lord's power. <<if $hierophanttruth is true>> You decided to inform the people of this deception, despite the threat of mass unrest and disorder. <<else>> You decided to conceal this truth from the people in order to preserve order and prevent mass revolt. <</if>><</if>> </span><span class="endchaptersummary2"></span></div> <br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "endchapter5levelup">><<set $part to 6>><<set $health to 100>><<set $gold += 100>><<set $numberofshepherds += 1>><<set $brionyjoin to true>><<set $army += 5>><<if $mainweapon is "arrows">><<set $mainweapon to "bow">><</if>><</link>></center>

<<unset $winnings>> <<unset $hierophantscan>> <<unset $help>> <<unset $helparrives>> <<unset $jarkythhealth>> <<unset $convincethumma>> <<unset $thummaturn>> <<unset $goddessdivine>> <<unset $readernumber>> <<unset $reader>> <<unset $tovrikconvince>> <<unset $tovrikturn>> <<unset $talquistask>> <<unset $talquistknow>> <<unset $hunterheritage>> <<unset $haveweapon>> <<unset $fairybread>> <<unset $wintersun>> <<unset $knowstormbreakername>> <<unset $tempbladeflirt>> <<unset $noshackle>> <<unset $brionyknow>> <<unset $scalesknow>> <<unset $promisedbriony>> <<unset $nathehealth>> <<unset $nathestrength>> <<unset $mcstrength>> <<unset $brionystrength>> <<unset $natheturn>> <<unset $nathedisarmed>> <<unset $brionyturn>> <<unset $chancetolose>> <<unset $chancetowin>> <<unset $outcome>> <<unset $wyvernturn>> <<unset $wyvernhealth>> <<unset $wyvernstrength>> <<unset $brionyroll>> <<unset $wyvernpunch>> <<unset $throwrock>> <<unset $wyverntaunt>> <<unset $spiritname>> <<unset $ven>> <<achieve "achieve_briony">><<achieve "achieve_freenathe">> <div class="box"><span class="column-icon"><span class="endchaptericon"><i class="fas fa-coins"></i></span></span><span class="column-2"><span class="heading">Gold</span><br>You gained 100 deucalions as part of your Shepherd's pay.</span></div> <div class="box"><span class="column-icon"><span class="endchaptericon"><i class="fas fa-trophy"></i></span></span><span class="column-2"><span class="heading">Achievements</span><br><<if $natheoutcome is "forfeit">>You unlocked two new <span class="entrylink">[[achievements|Achievements]]</span>: <b>Stormbreaker</b> and <b>Man Over Mission</b>.<<else>>You unlocked a new <span class="entrylink">[[achievement|Achievements]]</span>: <b>Stormbreaker</b>.<</if>></span></div> <div class="box"><span class="column-icon"><span class="endchaptericon"><i class="fas fa-book-open"></i></span></span><span class="column-2"><span class="heading">Codex</span><br>A <span class="entrylink">[[codex|Documents]]</span> document has been updated: <b><i class="fas fa-book-dead"></i> <i>The Faceless Lords.</i></b></span></div> <div class="box"><span class="column-icon"><span class="endchaptericon"><i class="fas fa-heart"></i></span></span><span class="column-2"><span class="heading">Relationships</span><br>New companions have been added to your <span class="entrylink">[[relationships|Relationships]]</span> page.</span></div> <div class="box"><span class="column-icon"><span class="endchaptericon"><i class="fas fa-first-aid"></i></span></span><span class="column-2"><span class="heading">Health</span><br>Your health has been fully restored.</span></div> <<page_break "Proceed to Next Chapter" "startchapter6">>

<<if settings.music is true>><<audio ":playing" fadeout>><<audio "roadtrip" volume 0.1 play>><</if>> <<fadein 10s>> <<fadeout 5s 8s>><div class="chapterlogo"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/logos/chaptercroplogo.png" alt="Shepherds of Haven"><center><span class="chapterglow">Chapter Six</span></center></div><</fadeout>> <</fadein>> <<timed 13s>><<goto "chapter6begin">><</timed>><span class="next">[[Next|chapter6begin]]</span> <<set $clara to false>> <<set $auberonknow to false>> <<set $hug to false>> <<set $aylakick to false>>

<span class="splash">A Few Weeks Later</span><span class="splashblur"></span> <<nobr>><<if $possessed is true and $jarkythfate is "escaped">> Over the next sennight, you watch as the city descends into chaos around you. <br><br> Jarkyth has absconded with Zythos's body, and the disappearance of the Western Hierophant during an important religious ritual sends the citizens of Heth Macoll into paroxysms of fear, paranoia, and hysteria. Not only that, but the gladiators' rebellion at the arena has kickstarted a chain of similar revolts all across the city. Slaves rise up against their masters in bloody insurrections; leaderless and rudderless, the rest of the city begins to fall to looting, violence, and overall confusion. Ven, from the Heth Macoll Thieves Guild, stops by the gladiators' safehouse to inform you that it would be best to get out of the city as soon as possible: people are looking for a target to blame, and your presence won't continue to go unnoticed for much longer. <br><br> Many of the freed gladiators take xem at xer word and immediately depart, intent on not being trapped in Heth Macoll for a second longer. Most don't even stop to thank you for the part you played in their liberation: they're too focused on dispersing across the Continent to hunt down the remnants of their old lives and the families they were torn away from. Only Briony decides to stay with you: she gives you a watery, uncertain smile and says plaintively, "I suppose I don't have anywhere else to go." And, after a pause: "And the Sponsor is still out there somewhere, right? So if I join up with the Shepherds, I suppose that's the best way to be involved with the hunt." <br><br> She and Red are the only ones who take your failed fight with the Faceless Lord reasonably well. Ayla seems to avoid you for a bit while you all lick your wounds, her face troubled whenever she glances your way, though by the time you're ready to leave the city, the tension between you has eased a bit. <br><br> What really surprises you is Halek's reaction: the Hunter suddenly pours a shocking amount of energy into avoiding being in the same room together with you. He was badly wounded during the fight, and initially you chalk his reticence and aloofness up to that, as well as a Hunter's natural affront at letting his quarry escape. But once, when his leg buckles and you automatically put out a hand to help him, he shakes off your touch without even looking at you; the look on his face is both remote and full of an almost savage revulsion. Over the next several days, similar incidents happen: he jerks or shies away from you like a resentful horse, and when he does look at you, his nostrils flare as if he's scented something repulsive. <br><br> When you finally demand to know why he's acting this way, he only answers tersely: "Ignore me. There's a shadow laying heavy on you. Probably Zythos's touch... lingering on you. I don't know." <br><br> When he leaves the room, Red glances over at you and tries to give a reassuring, if quizzical, smile. "Hunters," he says by way of explanation. "Give it time. He'll go back to normal soon enough." <br><br> But somehow, you're not so sure. A hard kernel of bitterness and anger forms in your heart then. It wasn't <i>all</i> your fault that Jarkyth escaped; you all had a hand in that failure. Yet it feels like you're the only one being punished for it. Something dark and oily mutters in the back of your mind as you watch the fires on the city outskirts grow by the day, treacherous thoughts about the unwanted weight of your responsibilities and what would happen to the Shepherds if you hadn't been there at all. You never asked for any of this. You're not even sure where the thoughts come from, but for that brief instant, you're held captive in their grip, something ugly and alien uncoiling in your guts. Somehow, obscurely, you suddenly feel utterly and terribly alone. <br><br> <<page_break "..." "chpt6beginsii">> <<else>>You take a sennight to recover from your fight with Jarkyth and your ordeals in the gladiators' arena. Most of the gladiators take a few days to get their affairs in order, then disperse across the Continent to hunt down the remnants of their old lives and the families they were torn away from. Many stop to thank you and your team for your help in defeating the Sponsor, though others also attribute their successful escape to Briony and their own planning. You watch as they depart from Heth Macoll and walk towards the simmering red horizon, their figures straight and proud, from the slightest teen to the most grizzled veteran. And you can't help but feel glad, despite everything: no matter what's happened, at least they're free. Ven and the Heth Macoll Thieves Guild confirm that the arena is finished for good, the entire building having mysteriously burned down a few days after your fight with the Faceless Lord—and now other gladiator rings in the area are beginning to experience their own revolts. <br><br> "It'd be best to get out of the city soon, then," Halek remarks from where he's spent the last several days recovering in bed. "The air around here is starting to smell like civil war." <<if $redromanceflag gte 8>> <br><br> Red glances up from his book, as if to say, <i>What exactly does civil war smell like?</i>, but he simply gives you a quick, secret smile and winks. <</if>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "chpt6beginsi">><<if ($natheoutcome is "forfeit" and $wyvernoutcome is "won") and $tovrikkill is true>><<set $army += 10>><<set $gladiatorjoin to true>><<setreputation +5>><<set $resources += 1>><</if>><</link>></center> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if ($natheoutcome is "forfeit" and $wyvernoutcome is "won") and $tovrikkill is true>> About half of the gladiators, however, have no place to return to: they were drifters before the slavers captured them, with no particular homes or families to miss. Briony feels a particular kinship to these souls—all devastating fighters and warriors in their own right—as she finds herself in the same situation as them; and it only takes a few hours of persuasion for her to convince them to come to you and ask to sign up with the Shepherds as well. <br><br> "We might as well use our abilities for good," Staghead rumbles. "Got nothing better to do. A lot of us are Diminished too, and you know we can handle ourselves in a fight. Plus, you'll pay us fair, right? Seems better than signing up for a mercenary company." <br><br> Mountain Jackal picks his teeth with a needle-thin dagger. "And we respect you, $gladiatortitle," he adds, leaning against the wall and looking largely indifferent to the proceedings. "So if you're a Shepherd and you like it, it's got to be a good gig. Maybe they could use our services, too." <br><br> Ayla folds her arms after you've gotten everything squared away with the remaining gladiators who want to join up: about forty in total. "You think Blade's going to be happy or pissed when you show up with a little army of former slaves?" <br><br> "They're gladiators," Red interjects. "Some of the best fighters on this side of the Continent. All of them are already more hardened and battle-ready than most of our recruits. I can't imagine Blade will displeased about that." <br><br> Halek snorts. "Besides, he's got to be used to it by now," he says. "<<c firstname>> just keeps showing up with a boatload of fearsome new recruits. He probably expected it when he sent $her over here in the first place." <br><br> Ayla nods as you shake your head helplessly. "Good point." <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "chpt6beginsii">><</link>></center> <<else>> About half of the gladiators, however, have no place to return to: they were drifters before the slavers captured them, with no particular homes or families to miss. Although Briony tries to persuade them to join her in signing up with the Shepherds, the majority of them decide to stay in Heth Macoll, determined to help free the remaining gladiators in the city. <br><br> "Might as well put our skills to good use," Mountain Jackal notes, picking his teeth with a needle-thin dagger. "Got nothing better to do. If we can scrape up enough coin, we can even get Thieves Guild's resources in on the action." <br><br> "Ven's not going to be happy about that," you note, remembering how the thief spoke derisively of Haven Thieves Guild becoming a force of good. <br><br> Staghead spits. "Sod it," he says. "It's going to happen whether xe likes it or not." <br><br> You shake their hands. "It's a noble pursuit. Good luck." <br><br> Mountain Jackal shakes his head. "Noble's something high-up, somethin' you gotta reach for," he says. "Like—like world peace, or somethin'. This is about <i>freedom</i>. That's as low as anything; the right of it is given to you the second you're born. Nothing <i>noble</i> about that. It's just what they're owed. What <i>we're</i> owed. And that's that." <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "chpt6beginsii">><</link>></center> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $brionyhate is true or $natheoutcome is "killed">> <<if settings.music is true>><<audio ":playing" fadeoverto 5 0>><</if>> Briony buries Nathe in a small, private funeral consisting of several of the other gladiators on the outskirts of Heth Macoll. From what you hear, she honors Nathe's Elvish traditions by burning his body on a funeral pyre and scattering the ashes to the winds, freeing his soul from its earthly confines. She does not allow you to the attend the funeral. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "chpt6beginsv">><</link>></center> <<else>> Briony and Nathe part on good terms, swearing to write letters to each other after Nathe has found his family, whom he guesses will be somewhere in the Frostwood, where he last left them months ago. <br><br> "But even if they aren't there, I'll find them," he says confidently, his eyes shining in a way you haven't seen before. He smiles at Briony. "And I'll be able to find you, of course. The Shepherd headquarters in Haven sound impossible to miss." <br><br> Briony embraces him. "Be well," she whispers tearfully. "Stay safe, and come and visit soon—and I'll visit you, too. I can't wait to meet Callon, and Lohir—" <br><br> Nathe pats the top of her pink head fondly. "You will." He gives her a brave smile. <br><br> She turns away, sniffling miserably and wiping her eyes, and <<if $natheoutcome is "forfeit">> Nathe turns to you with a smile, embracing you in turn. "Thank you," he whispers in your ear. "It's thanks to you that all of this is happening. It's thanks to you that I'm free. I'll never forget that, $firstname." <br><br> When he parts, he makes the Elvish gesture of enduring loyalty and friendship—and then he departs. <<include "chpt6beginsiii">> <<else>> Nathe turns to you, nods, and then walks away, his figure soon becoming a small dot in the distance. <<include "chpt6beginsiii">> <</if>> <</if>><</nobr>>

Finally, she sniffles to a halt and gives you a watery smile. "It just feels like my old life is walking away from me," she whispers. "Like everything I knew is leaving. My oldest friend—my whole routine, mindset, way of life. I don't know anything else. What am I supposed to do?" <<nobr>><<if $charisma gte 50 or $briony gte 60>> You put a hand on her shoulder. <<elseif $charisma gte 30>> You look at her. <<else>> You shrug. <</if>><</nobr>> "It's up to you." She takes a deep breath, then draws herself up. She wipes away her tears. "I'll do as I said," she says finally, her voice a little clearer now, ringing with resolve. "I'm going to be a Shepherd." Out in the distance, Nathe's figure disappears into the shimmering red horizon. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "chpt6beginsv">><<set $facelesslordsdead to 5>><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<if settings.music is true>><<audio ":playing" fadeoverto 15 0>><</if>><</nobr>>Finally, you embark on your journey back to Haven, <<nobr>><<if $gladiatorjoin is true>> accompanied by a veritable army of gladiators-turned-new-recruits. Camping is an interesting experience: you feel like the commander of a military campaign on the march, with all the tents that crop up around yours at night. <<else>> with Red, Halek, Ayla, and your new recruit Briony in tow. <</if>><</nobr>> True to form, Blade takes one look at you upon your return, nods curtly in thanks, and then begins the process of <<nobr>><<if $gladiatorjoin is true>> swearing everyone in. <<else>> swearing Briony in. <</if>><</nobr>> He doesn't bat an eye at the idea of you turning up with a <<nobr>><<if $gladiatorjoin is true>> veritable small army of deadly warriors, and really neither does anyone else. <<else>> one-woman army, even when you explain the nature of her unusual powers and how she can level a stone wall with a punch. <</if>> <<if $possessed is true and $jarkythfate is "escaped">> If he has any thoughts on the failure of your overall mission, he doesn't share them; the others simply give you sympathetic looks and pats on the back in commiseration. Everyone's had assignments that had less than ideal outcomes, and soon enough all of their attention is taken up by the new recruit you've dragged home once again. <</if>> <</nobr>> "It's wonderful to see you making new friends," Tallys remarks drolly. <<nobr>><<if $gladiatorjoin is true>> <br><br> Staghead is immediately given an enormous battle-axe that can split a man's skull with a single swing; he insists on keeping his signature deer antlers, which makes an extremely comical and foreboding sight when he walks down the street in his Shepherd uniform. Shery frets over how it will impact the Order's public image, but Trouble says with a laugh: "Are you kidding? Kids chase after him every day and ask for rides on his shoulders—and he gives 'em! They love that big bastard." <br><br> Mountain Jackal, on the other hand, joins the Shepherds' espionage division, attaching himself to the ranks of many of Chase's thieves. You see him eating in the mess hall with his new teammates, making sarcastic comments and sneering, but you think he looks happy in his own way. <<if $thummasaved is true>> <br><br> Even Thumma, the Binder who was originally holding the arena wards in place, finds a job in the armory, quietly repairing broken weapons and binding protective spells into talismans and shields. <</if>> <</if>><</nobr>> Briony settles in and soon makes fast friends with most everyone in the Order, her persistent good cheer, high spirits, and terrifying strength winning the respect of many. She and Blade spend some time sparring, attracting an audience of recruits in a display not unlike a gladiator fight. Blade dryly comments that Briony's fighting style is a bit too flashy to be all that practical, especially after she tries to suplex him over her head—"What do you expect? This is all I know!" she exclaims—but acknowledges that the former gladiator makes a valuable addition to the Order; Red and Riel, meanwhile, are in turns obsessed with Gonturan, leading her to good-naturedly exclaim that "they only like me for my big sword." Shery is delighted to make a new, substantially more sensitive friend than, say, Trouble, who gets a few strong-armed whacks for saying something offensive out of hand. It's only a few months and several destructively-but-impressively won missions before Briony is officially promoted to Captain, along with Red, Ayla, Halek, Chase, and Riel, among others. For a while, all is well, and you are able to recover from your time in Heth Macoll in peace. <<nobr>><<if $hierophanttruth is true>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "westcontrumblings">><<if settings.music is true>><<audio ":playing" fadeout>><</if>><</link>></center> <<else>> <<include "chpt6beginsvi">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Rumblings of chaos in the western part of the Continent do reach your ears, though: word spreads of the Hierophant's treachery and the Faceless Lord's deceit, and you hear rumors, quickly squashed, of riots, protests, and even small rebellions in large cities throughout the West. The Autarch, confined as she is to the Sun Court, does not acknowledge these whispers of trouble coming from the frontier, which spread quickly towards Haven… but you feel their reverberations all the same. The air in Haven changes slightly; people look more wary in the streets, more jaded, and once or twice you even see a few people glaring at Inquisitors, the once all-powerful arm of the Church. You stick close to home and take on local missions. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "chpt6beginsvi">><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<if settings.music is true>><<audio ":playing" fadeout>><</if>><<if $godspeaker lte 4>> <<if $hierophanttruth is false>> <<page_break "Next" "onenightyoudreami">> <<else>> One night, you dream, and forget it again upon waking. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "godspeakerdream">><</link>></center> <</if>> <<elseif $facelesslordsdead is 5 and $possessed is false>> <<if $hierophanttruth is false>> <<page_break "Next" "onenightyoudreamii">> <<else>> One night, you dream, and forget it again upon waking. <br><br> <<page_break "..." "godspeakerdream2">> <</if>> <<else>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "chpt6beginsviinofade">><</link>></center> <</if>><</nobr>>

One night, you dream, and forget it again upon waking. <<page_break "..." "godspeakerdream">>

One night, you dream, and forget it again upon waking. <<page_break "..." "godspeakerdream2">>

<<nobr>><<if $godspeaker is 7>> <<set $godspeakernumber to "seven">> <<elseif $godspeaker is 6>> <<set $godspeakernumber to "six">> <<elseif $godspeaker is 5>> <<set $godspeakernumber to "five">> <<elseif $godspeaker is 4>> <<set $godspeakernumber to "four">> <<elseif $godspeaker is 3>> <<set $godspeakernumber to "three">> <<elseif $godspeaker is 2>> <<set $godspeakernumber to "two">> <<else>> <<set $godspeakernumber to "one">> <</if>><</nobr>><span class="gradient">This is all wrong.</span> <i>What is?</i> <span class="gradient">Calm yourself. <<c she>> still <<if $plural is true>>have<<else>>has<</if>> $godspeakernumber words left. <<c she>> only <<if $plural is true>>need<<else>>needs<</if>> one.</span> <span class="gradient">But will $she use it when the time comes? Knowing the cost?</span> <span class="gradient"><<c she>> <<if $plural is true>>do<<else>>does<</if>> not know the cost.</span> <span class="gradient">Yet.</span> <span class="gradient"><<c she>> should.</span> <span class="gradient"><<c she>> will.</span> <span class="gradient"><<c she>> does. Deep down. We do.</span> <span class="gradient">We can only hope it works this time. That we've spun the weave another way—that the strands have changed enough—</span> <span class="gradient">Hush. All we can do is hope.</span> <span class="gradient">Have faith.</span> <span class="gradient">Trust.</span> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span><i>Faith and hope and trust...</i></span></div></div>' "chpt6beginsvii">><</link>></center>

<span class="gradient">You have done well, little kithma. You've destroyed the five hands of the Cursed One.</span> <span class="gradient">But will it be enough? Will you make the right choice when the time comes?</span> <span class="gradient">The largest threat still looms over all…</span> <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Who are you?"' 'whoareyouchapter6voice'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"The right choice?"' 'therightchoicechapter6voice'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"The largest threat?"' 'thelargestthreatchapter6voice'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Please. Are you demons? Am I possessed?"' 'pleaseareyoudemonschapter6voice'>><</link>></li> </ul>

<span class="gradient"><<c firstname>> <<c surname>>.</span> <i>No, I'm <<c firstname>> <<c surname>>.</i> <span class="gradient">We'll see.</span> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "chpt6beginsvii">><</link>></center>

<span class="gradient">The weave has spun another way, the strands of all things crossed and unraveled. We can only hope it works this time.</span> <i>This time?</i> <span class="gradient">All times.</span> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "chpt6beginsvii">><</link>></center>

<span class="gradient">Keep on your guard. Do not become unwary simply because you destroyed his lieutenants. They were kittens; he is the lion. He could be anywhere, anyone around you. Your lover. Your closest friend.</span> <i>Who?</i> <span class="gradient">God-killer, world-ruiner.</span> <i>Light-bearer, bright-burner...</i> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "chpt6beginsvii">><</link>></center>

Your mind vibrates with affront. <span class="gradient">If you were a demon, why would you destroy the lords of demons?</span> <i>Maybe I'm not really destroying them. Maybe they're only faking it… so I can gain everyone's trust. So I can be their secret weapon.</i> <span class="gradient">You are not their weapon. You are ours.</span> <span class="gradient">You are <<c firstname>> <<c surname>>.</span> <span class="gradient">That is your weapon against them. Our weapon against them.</span> <i>Am I <<c firstname>> <<c surname>>?</i> <span class="gradient">Yes. And so are we.</span> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "chpt6beginsvii">><</link>></center>

Amidst all the flurry and hustle of the Shepherd compound, you manage to scrape a few days off to enjoy at your leisure. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "dayoff">><<if settings.music is true>><<audio ":playing" fadeout>><</if>><</link>></center>

One day, you walk into the <<nobr>><<if $rank is "Captain">> Captains' <<else>> Shepherds' <</if>><</nobr>> conference room, expecting to be briefed on your next mission, only to find Trouble already there, bemusedly reading a letter at the large, polished round table. Chase is also there, spinning in a chair idly as Trouble finishes reading the letter aloud. You sit next to them at the table. "What's toward?" <<nobr>><<if $troublehate is false>> Trouble glances at you and gifts you a familiar smile. <<else>> Trouble doesn't look at you as he speaks. <</if>><</nobr>> "My turn to do the mission briefings. Blade and Riel are away, as well as Halek and Red. Tallys—ah, there she is." You all look up as Tallys enters the room, lithe and coolly-elegant as ever; behind her comes Briony, bright and vivid and talking animatedly to Ayla, who nods along to the conversation and even cracks a few smiles and slouches at her ease into one of the chairs on your right side. Finishing off the parade is Shery, who smiles at you shyly before closing the door behind her and taking her place on Chase's other side. "Right," Trouble says, flicking the letter carelessly onto the table; it spins across the smooth wood and comes to a rest in front of you. "Well, I'll keep it short, mostly because I don't know what's totally going on. Shery got this letter in the Shepherds' petitions, and I can't really make heads or tails of it." You glance down at the letter, which is written in flowing, flowery script. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "dayoffoverchp6ii">><</link>></center>

<<set $loadPassage to Story.get("lavinetsletter").text;>> <<letter_holder "formal" $loadPassage>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "dayoffoverchp6iii">><</link>></center>

<i>To Whom It May Concern,</i> <i>I write to beseech your intervention and guidance in a matter that I suspect to be related to your general purview, though the hard evidence for this remains elusive. To introduce myself, I am Lavinet Naveen, the heiress of Lockwood, formerly Falkirk, a fiefdom to the south of Thielwood.</i> <i>I would love to perambulate and exchange the pleasantries I am usually lauded for as a hostess and noblewoman of the Order of the Violet. However, expediency seems key—so please forgive any perceived haste or rudeness on my part. If we are ever to meet in person, I would love to show you all the courtesies and graciousness that agents of your standing deserve. But for now, I shall strive to be succinct, and to cut to the heart of the matter.</i> <i>Of late, our well-loved land and all its residents have been experiencing a series of devastating attacks, particularly on our farmsteads and outlying leased lands. We initially believed these attacks to be the work of Endarkened: they were violent, destructive, and almost certainly caused by some sort of magic, with crops being burned and whole houses swallowed by the earth. Reports of strange, glowing beings seen in the night have spread like wildfire through the fiefdom; some even claim to have heard these beings speak, but fear of being tempted by the Endarkened have kept the local folk well away. We are receiving many refugees from the outlands of our territory, innocent farmers and tentants fleeing to the safety of Lockwood as we battle these violent assailants.</i> <i>My father, the lord of Lockwood, still believes that these are Endarkened pests who should be exterminated. He also eschews relying on the Shepherds for help, as he believes this is a problem we Lockwoodians must solve on our own, using our own resources, strength, and wit. And, to be frank, he hesitates to invite your Order to our lands out of concern for how it might be perceived by other nobles. I'm sure I don't need to explain to you the hesitation Norm aristocrats have in dealing with the Diminished police forces, even with the Autarch's official backing—as absurd and distasteful as I find the reluctance myself.</i> <i>My father hired a contingent of mercenaries to deal with the problem, but they quickly found themselves out of their depth and out of their league. The majority have either fled or been killed by our mysterious enemies. My only hope now is to write to you, the Order of the Shepherds, for your help, even if this communiqué must remain obscured from my father's eyes until your arrival.</i> <i>I realize that this is a bold demand: to ask you to come here on uncertain terms, without the consent of the ruler of this fiefdom and without solid proof that these attacks are initiated by Endarkened or the supernatural rather than by weather phenomena or man-made threats. I myself wanted to dismiss the stories as local superstition until I saw, with my own eyes, a piece of fire hurled through our estate's highest window, as if flung by a Mage. </i> <i>But I do not believe this is the work of a Mage. I believe Something Else is afoot here, even if I cannot ascertain the truth of this instinct on my own.</i> <i>(As another aside, a few of the other nobles here do believe this is the work of Mage rebels, whom they hold equivalent to the Endarkened—a theory I would like to quash quickly, unless it turns out to actually be true. But I cannot prove if it's Endarkened, Mages, or otherwise without your help. This is another reason for your agents to come here: if not to help us, then to prove the innocence of Diminished folk in this matter.)</i> <i>For your efforts, I offer gold as well as the eternal gratitude of a noblewoman of the Winter Court. If this is arrangement is amenable to you, I beg you to send a team of agents to investigate the strange tide that has beset Lockwood as soon as you can. Please make all haste. If you don't, I fear that our home will be ashes by the time your people arrive.</i> <i>All my thanks to you,</i> <span class="lavinetsignature">Lady Lavinet Delphinia Naveen</span> <i>Lady Lavinet Delphinia Naveen</i>

<<notify_codex_culture "The Rising Sun">>Enclosed in the letter is a cheque for one thousand deucalions, to be signed by "Lady Lavinet Naveen" upon services rendered. You stare at the paper for a moment, your mind working out what it's saying. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"This is not that complicated, Trouble."' 'thisisnotthatcomplicatedtrouble'>><<settrouble -3>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"She writes in a very wordy, roundabout way."' 'shewritesverywordroundaboutway'>><<settrouble +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"She has very pretty handwriting."' 'shehasveryprettyhandwriting'>><<setintelligence -1>><<setlavinet +1>><<setshery +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"So something that may be demons or not demons is attacking this fiefdom?"' 'sosomethingmaybedemonsfiefdom'>><<setbriony +1>><<setayla +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"One thousand deucalions? Bold to even write that amount in a cheque."' 'onethousanddeucalionsboldcheque'>><<setcunning +1>><<setchase +1>><<settallys +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Oh, $god. We have to deal with nobility?"' 'ohgodwehavetodealwithnobility'>><<settallys +3>><<setayla +1>><<setlavinet -3>><</link>></li> </ul>

He frowns. "Well, it's so <i>long</i>," he says defensively. "You could boil this down to a few paragraphs, not a whole bloody novel." <<include "dayoffoverchp6iv">>

"Yeah, she does," Trouble says, furrowing his brow. "You could boil this down to a few paragraphs, not a whole bloody novel." <<include "dayoffoverchp6iv">>

Trouble gives you an unimpressed look while Chase peers around his arm. "Uh, yeah, I guess she does… but I'm more concerned about what's <i>on</i> the paper rather than <i>how</i> it's written." <<include "dayoffoverchp6iv">>

Trouble scratches his chin. "Guess so. Or it could be Mage rebels, like some of them theorize. Or—I dunno, earthquakes and wildfires." "Or mass delusion, or bandits dressing up," Ayla puts in sarcastically. "Won't know until we get there." <<include "dayoffoverchp6iv">>

Chase glances over, turning the cheque over in his hands and holding it up to the light. "I'll say. You could easily forge a signature on this and cash it. She wouldn't be able to dispute it for weeks." Tallys tsks. "Noble naivety, at its finest." "Um," Shery begins quietly, "is it that naive to trust that officers of the law would do the right thing?" She flushes under everyone else's stares. "What I mean to say is… I would be surprised if any one of us, or our recruits, actually took that money without coming to Lockwood first." "That's true," Briony says. "It's more a show of faith, I think, to demonstrate that she trusts us already and that we'll be coming on good and respected terms, rather than her being stupid. It shows that she doesn't assume the worst of us." "We are Diminished," Tallys grits out. "As far as she thinks, we're immoral animals who are little better than the Endarkened themselves. She's probably just testing us." Briony frowns. "It didn't sound like that to me. It sounds like she respects us and holds us in high esteem: she wrote to us without her father's permission, after all. Why would she do that if she thought so lowly of us?" Tallys shakes her head. "Because she needs us. She'll dress everything up in pretty words, then discard us as soon as we've done our jobs. You can't trust a Norm noble as far as you can throw them." Trouble makes a swift chopping motion with his hand in the air between them, his glove a sudden flash of white that makes Briony blink. "Let's forget about that for now and get back to the matter at hand: the mission." <<include "dayoffoverchp6iv">>

You've never enjoyed your dealings with the nobility, particularly the Norm nobility. They've by and large been entitled, spoiled, and snobby, fluffing themselves up on the power of their wealth and influence. Even Prihine was insufferable when you first met her. Tallys nods. "I agree. This is going to be extremely tiresome." Ayla also seems to agree. "Never liked a noble. Maybe this one'll be different. …But probably not." Trouble waves his hand. "Putting personal feelings aside," he says, putting on his best Vice-Commander voice, "let's back to the matter at hand: the mission." <<include "dayoffoverchp6iv">>

"Seems simple enough, doesn't it?" Chase asks, spinning in his chair. "Head to Lockwood, investigate these attacks, get the Order paid. Straightforward." Trouble nods. "I think there's good evidence that things could be supernatural—enough for us to get involved, anyway. So: Tallys, Ayla, Briony, and <<c firstname>>—you'll be our team to Lockwood. <<c firstname>> will take point, as usual." "Not Tallys?" Shery asks softly. "She is third-in-command." Trouble exchanges glances with Tallys. "This is by her request. Tallys doesn't want to be the face of any mission that requires her to deal with powerful Norms of influence, if she can help it. It wears on her temper." He flashes her a brief grin. "I know the feeling." Ayla curls her lip, then. <<nobr>> <<if $rank is "Captain">> "And is there any reason why you're sending <<if $gender is "female">> an all-woman team to deal with some spoiled princess, instead of the frontlines of demon-fighting?" <<else>> a team of mostly women and <<c firstname>> to deal with a spoiled princess, instead of the frontlines of demon-fighting?" <</if>> <br><br> Trouble stares for a moment. "Uh, not really," he mutters, blinking. "Everyone else is gone." <<else>> "And is there any reason why you're making <<c firstname>> team leader, when $she<<if $plural is true>>'re<<else>>'s<</if>> only an officer and we're all captains?" <<if $gender is "male">> She glares pointedly. "Couldn't be because $she<<if $plural is true>>'re<<else>>'s<</if>> a man and we're all women?" <</if>> <br><br> Trouble stares blankly at her for a moment. "No, of course not," he says, shaking his head. "t's a matter of seniority. <<c firstname>> has more experience than the two of you, and if Tallys won't take lead, that's how the dice rolls." <</if>><</nobr>> "Why don't <i>you</i> go, then? Or Chase? Why is he even here?" "I'm Vice-Commander—I've got to stay while Blade is gone. And Chase was—" "Bored," Chase puts in cheerfully, lacing his hands behind his head. "And I've got a mission to Caprona with my squad, post-haste. So it's you four or no one, like it or not." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "dayoffoverchp6v">><</link>></center>

You go over mission details for a while, Shery scribbling everything down in her notes. Trouble impresses upon you the importance of maintaining a civil front with the nobles of Lockwood—"though I'm a bloody hypocrite for saying so," he adds with a sheepish grin—as their political power could greatly influence how the Order is seen and dealt with across the Continent. He levels what would be a stern look at Tallys, but a little of that boyish grin still plays around his mouth. "So hold your temper, alright, Tal? And you too, Ayla. …And Briony. Some nobleman might sniff at you and make an unkind comment, so don't go choking him out with your thighs or anything." "That only happened once," Briony mutters, grinning now too. Ayla cracks her knuckles. "I make no promises." Chase laughs. "You've got a tough mission on your hands, <<c firstname>>. This lot'll be a handful." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I wouldn\'t trade them for the world."' 'iwouldnttradethemfortheworldchase'>><<setbriony +1>><<setayla +1>><<settallys +1>><</link>></li> <<if $troublehate is false>><li><<link '"No more than you, Trouble."' 'nomorethanyoutroublechase'>><<settrouble +1>><<if $troubleromanceflag gte 7>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link '"No more than you, Chase."' 'nomorethanyouchasechp6'>><<setchase +1>><<if $chaseromanceflag gte 7>><<set $chaseromanceflag +=1>><</if>><</link>></li> <<if $tallyssex is true>><li><<link 'You meet Tallys\' eye and smirk. "A handful, indeed."' 'youmeettallyseyeandsmirkhandful'>><<set $tallysromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $brionyhate is false>><li><<link 'You meet Briony\'s eye and smile. "I don\'t mind."' 'youmeetbrionyseyeandsmileidontmind'>><<set $brionyromanceflag += 1>><<setbriony +1>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $aylahate is false>><li><<link 'You meet Ayla\'s eye and smile. "I look forward to it."' 'youmeetaylaseyeandsmileilookforwardtoit'>><<setayla +1>><<set $aylaromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $tallyssex is false>><li><<link 'You meet Tallys\' eye and smile. "With Tallys there, nothing can go wrong."' 'youmeettallyseyeandsmilewithtalllys'>><<settallys +1>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link 'You sigh and address Shery. "I wish you could come with us. You could help me tame this lot."' 'yousighandaddresssheryiwishyoucouldcomewithus'>><<setshery +1>><<if $gender is "female">><<set $sheryromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <<if $aylahate is true and $brionyhate is true>><li><<link 'You sigh; you think about how half your team hates your guts. "Joy."' 'youthinkabouthowhalfyourteamhatesyourgutsjoy'>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link '"They\'ll obey orders and act professionally. I\'ll make sure of it."' 'theyllobeyordersactprofessionallyillmakesure'>><<setloyal +5>><<setcharisma -1>><<setcompassionate -1>><<setbriony -1>><<settallys -3>><<setayla -3>><</link>></li> </ul>

Briony beams, while Ayla coughs and looks away, examining her fingernails with feigned carelessness. "Flatterer," Tallys says—but she seems vaguely pleased. <<include "dayoffoverchp6vi">>

He snorts out a laugh. "I don't know what you're talking about," he says, his eye twinkling. "I'm the picture of calm." Briony shakes her head wryly. "Liar." <<include "dayoffoverchp6vi">>

<<nobr>><<if $chasesex is true>> He winks rogueishly at you. "I suppose you're speaking from experience, my darling?" <br><br> Everyone at the table collectively groans. <<else>> "Fair," he says, smiling impishly. "Very fair." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "dayoffoverchp6vi">>

This will be the first time you're on a mission together since you first started up your dalliance—so this will be an interesting mission, indeed. Tallys avoids your eye, but she's smirking herself. <<include "dayoffoverchp6vi">>

It will be a good chance to get to know Briony better, you think. <<nobr>><<if $brionyromanceflag gte 4>> She smiles back at you, blushing happily. <<else>> She smiles back at you happily. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "dayoffoverchp6vi">>

She smiles back, meeting your eye in an unspoken challenge. <<include "dayoffoverchp6vi">>

Tallys sniffs. "Flatterer," she says—but she seems pleased. <<include "dayoffoverchp6vi">>

Shery flushes, but she seems happy to be missed. "I'm sure you'll be fine, <<c firstname>>," she says in quiet, admiring tones. "You always are." Then she looks away, tucking her hair behind her ears self-consciously. "Besides—it sounds like you might need to engage in combat, or forensic investigation. I'm no help to you when it comes to that." "I think you underestimate yourself, Shery," Tallys says then—but the quartermaster only shakes her head ruefully, waving away the praise. After a moment she adds, a bit enviously: "I <i>would</i> like to see this lady's estate—I'm sure you'll have lots of fancy dinners, and there'll be lovely fashions and courtly language and glamor—" <<include "youthink">>

Ayla glowers at you while Briony looks away, steadfastly ignoring your existence. <<include "dayoffoverchp6vi">>

Ayla glowers at you, clearly not liking your tone. "Whatever," she says, surly. <<include "dayoffoverchp6vi">>

Shery sighs then, pushing away her notes and examining Lady Lavinet's letter again. "How grand," she says, a bit enviously. "You'll be a visiting a real noblewoman's estate—I'm sure you'll have lots of fancy dinners, and there'll be lovely fashions and courtly language and glamor—" <<include "youthink">>

Briony's eyes light up excitedly. "You think?" Ayla shakes her head and snorts. "I doubt it. We're not visiting diplomats—we're the help. If she lets us share her table instead of sending food up to our rooms—if she'll even do <i>that</i>—I'll eat my shoes." "The thought of dressing up for the likes of them makes me sick, anyway," Tallys adds. "<i>If</i> they deign to let us sit with them, they'll be watching us like—like performing monkeys, criticizing our table manners, commenting on our uncouthness and gluttony to each other with snide remarks and sparkling commentary." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I\'m sure it won\'t be that bad."' 'imsureitwontbethatbadchasebrightly'>><<settrouble +1>><<setchase +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Well, <i>I\'m</i> excited for it. I love being in the world of the aristocrats."' 'wellimexcitedbeinginworldaristocrats'>><<setshery +3>><<setbriony +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You\'re right. This is not going to be pleasant, but we\'ll bear it up together."' 'yourerightnotgoingtobepleasantbutogether'>><<settallys +3>><<setayla +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

"Yeah—and if it is, you can always get your revenge," Chase says brightly. "So as long as you're not caught. Shred their dresses or shave their eyebrows in their sleep. Or let a pig loose in their rooms, you know." "Well, no," Trouble begins, but he's grinning so ridiculously that you can't take him seriously. "Don't do that, or Blade's going to kick my arse. But, er—well, use your best judgment and don't take any shit." Tallys makes a doubtful sound, but says nothing more. <<include "youthinki">>

Their world has always been so different from your own: where you've had blood and sweat and fire, the aristocratic realm has been full of glamor and perfume, dancing in ballrooms with sparkling clothes and dazzling smiles, silky punch and fan language and sweetly-barbed words… Briony bounces a little in her seat. "I agree: I'm excited, even if they are bastards to us. I'll just ignore it and soak all the trappings of wealth in." She turns to Shery and pats her arm. "And I'll bring you back lots of souvenirs, Sher." Shery beams. <<include "youthinki">>

"Good to know you've got our backs, <<nobr>><<if $rank is "Captain">> Captain," <<else>> team leader," <</if>><</nobr>> Ayla says—and she means it. Tallys nods, smiling slightly. <<include "youthinki">>

You're packing up your things to leave the conference room when Shery suddenly speaks up again, looking over the letter that Lady Lavinet sent with a frown. "Hold a moment," she says softly. She points at the swirly signature at the bottom of the page. "Did you notice this surname? Lady Lavinet <i>Naveen</i>…" <ul class="choices"> <<if $intelligence gte 35>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"That was Prihine\'s maiden name!"</div>' 'youthinkii'>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">"That was Prihine\'s maiden name!"</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link '"What about it?"' 'youthinkwhataboutitch'>><<setintelligence -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

"Wasn't that the maiden name of your old charge?" Shery asks, biting her lip. "Lady Prihine Naveen, before she was married?" <i>Ohhh</i>. <<include "youthinkii">>

Chase glances from the paper to your face. "Think there's any relation?" "Prihine was from Brunen, wasn't she?" Tallys asks, folding her arms. "So it's doubtful that this Lavinet is a sister, or a mother, given she lives halfway across the Continent from there. Perhaps a cousin?" <<nobr>><<if $prihinedead is true or $bothdead is true>> Trouble sucks the air between his teeth, and when you meet his gaze, you know exactly what you're both thinking: if this Lady Lavinet really is a close relation of Prihine, she's not going to be happy to see the former bodyguard who let her cousin die. <br><br> Ayla huffs, folding her arms. "Well, <i>that's</i> not good." <br><br> <i>No,</i> you think as you move to file out of the room. <i>It's not. </i> <<elseif $prihineromance is true>> You try to let your face remain impassive as the others begin to file out of the room. If this Lady Lavinet really is a close relation of Prihine, what are the chances that she knows you as the former bodyguard who deflowered her cousin? <br><br> "Well," you say as you leave with the others, "can't say it won't be interesting..." <<elseif $prihinesafe is true or $bothsafe is true>> You nod slowly. "Maybe she knows about me already, then." No doubt this Lavinet would have heard about your heroics in saving her cousin from a terrible death—maybe that's even why she wrote to you in the first place. <br><br> Briony nudges you playfully. "Let's hope they roll out the royal carpet for us, then." <</if>><</nobr>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "youthinkiii">><</link>></center> /*comment BLADE'S BIRTHDAY IS SUPPOSED TO GO IN THIS CHAPTER [INCOMPLETE] */

<<nobr>><<if settings.music is true>><<audio "camp" volume 0 loop fadeoverto 15 0.1>><</if>><</nobr>>You take a day or so to make your preparations before setting off towards Lockwood with Briony, Tallys, and Ayla in tow, taking your ahfuri north across the frigid Damba Plains, the golden grasses stiff and frozen as winter grips the land in one last desperate fist. It's fast going, without mountains and desert and rock to impede you—and for the most part, your little group gets along. Briony gathers firewood and sets it aflame with a blink, stamping her feet in the thin snow to keep warm and talking brightly to loosen up the atmosphere in camp. Ayla opens up more, her barbed, sarcastic aloofness giving way to a more wry sense of humor and friendly camaraderie. And Tallys, although she keeps more to herself, tolerates Briony's mangled attempts at Elvish and teaches Ayla how to meditate when she makes her dawn prayers in the old tradition. "Red mentioned that there are scholars called stellarists now, in the universities to the West," she says one night, while you all are lying on your backs and watching the star-studded veil of the night. Typically one of you would have to keep watch while the others slept, but Briony has drawn a circle of protection around the group, something that renders your camp invisible unless an outsider were to walk right into it. Tallys snorts. "They study the skies and try to make a science of recording their movements. But the Elves and the Mages have been watching the stars for millennia. It's so typical. They steal the ideas of older civilizations and pretend they were the ones who came up with them in the first place." Everyone falls silent for a moment, staring up at the heavens. Then Briony says, her eyes shining in the star- and firelight: "Do you really think the stars are doorways to other worlds, like some people say? Windowpanes glowing so brightly that we can see them from here?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Maybe. No one knows what they really are."' 'maybenooneknowswhattheyreallyare6'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I do. If Hael and the Spirit Realm can exist, other worlds must exist, too."' 'idoifhaelandspiritrealm'>><<setbriony +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I don\'t know. I never really cared to think about it."' 'idontknowinevercaredtothinkch6'>><<setbriony -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"No. The stars are like our sun, just very far away."' 'nothestarsarelikeoursunjustveryfaraway'>><<setintelligence +2>><</link>></li> </ul>

Briony nods slowly. "I suppose it's as good a theory as any other," she says finally. "I think there's some truth to it. But what would be there, if you were to step through the door?" <<include "youthinkiv">>

Briony nods. "I agree. And Red's always trying to get to them—so there must be truth to the idea. I can feel it. But what would be there, if you were to step through the door?" <<include "youthinkiv">>

Briony frowns. "Oh." <<include "youthinkiv">>

Briony frowns. "That's a theory, but it's fallen out of favor in recent years," she says. Ever since she got to the compound, she's been reading voraciously, shoring up the gaps in her knowledge about the world that she's forgotten. "Only because the scholars who first propelled the idea were killed by the Autarchy for heresy," you rebut. "Now the predominant theory is—what, that the stars are the One-God's bedroom lights?" <<include "youthinkiv">>

Ayla stirs, then. "Say there was a door that led to a different version of our world," she says. "One where there were different choices made, different paths taken. Like… maybe in that world, Chase wasn't a thief, but a tailor, and Shery was a baker, and Halek wasn't a twin, and Blade flirted like a playboy." She trails off for a moment. "What would you want that world to be like?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I\'d want the Castigation to have never happened."' 'idwantcastigationnever'>><<setorder -1>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setloyal -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'d want my family back, and make sure my thirteenth birthday never happened the way it did."' 'idwantmyfamilybackthirteenthbirthday'>><<settallys +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'d want to know my birth parents."' 'idwanttoknowmybirthparents'>><<setayla +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'d want to do better in my relationships."' 'idwanttodobetterinmyrelationships'>><</link>><<setloyal +1>></li> <li><<link '"I\'d want to save people I never got to save."' 'idwantosavepeopleinevergotosave'>><</link>><<setcompassionate +1>></li> <<if $facelesslordsdead lt 5>><li><<link '"I\'d want to redo my fights with the Faceless Lords."' 'idwantoredomyfightsfacelesslords'>><<setcourage +1>><<setloyal +1>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link '"I\'m happy with my choices. I wouldn\'t want anything to be different."' 'imhappywithmychoiceswouldntwantanythingdifferent'>><<if $brionyhate is false>><<setbriony +1>><<setloyal -1>><</if>><</link>></li> </ul>

You can barely even conceive of such a world, but the idea of a reality in which magic was practiced freely and no one was afraid to use their powers makes your eyes smart dangerously and your chest ache with the impossibility of it. What a wondrous world that would be, with such incredible sights that you can't even really dream of it… Ayla is still staring steadfastly up at the sky. "Yeah," she says after a moment. "I bet a lot of people wish for that." <<include "youthinkv">>

You frown. It almost feels as if you had a dream like that, once, not so long ago—a convincing fantasy of what it was like to have your hometown intact, the villagers all safe, Zori still alive… "I would wish for something very similar," Tallys whispers then, interrupting your train of thought. <<nobr>><<if $tallyssex is true>> On your right side, her hand slips secretly into yours, and she squeezes, hard. <</if>><</nobr>> "I understand your heart." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Smile at her. You two understand each other in a way few other people can.' 'smileatheryoutwounderstandtallyseach'>><<settallys +1>><<set $tallysromanceflag += 2>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Look away. It\'s too painful of a thought to share.' 'lookawayitstoopainfulofathoughttoshare'>><<settallys -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Stare at her in sympathy. Pain can\'t be compared or measured, but you can\'t imagine being in her position.' 'stareatherinsympathypainmeasured'>><<settallys +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Tallys smiles back, an unspoken message passing between the two of you. <<include "youthinkv">>

Tallys looks away as well, frowning. <<include "youthinkv">>

Tallys looks away then, her face drawn tight with pain. <<include "youthinkv">>

You don't know if you'd want to be living with them, in this other reality, but you'd want to know them, know who they were, and be content with that knowledge instead of always wondering… Ayla is dead still, beside you. "Yeah," she says softly. "I get that." <<include "youthinkv">>

There are quite a lot of things you've said wrong, small rents you've torn into your relationships that you wish you could undo—but it's never that easy. Briony stirs beside you. "It's never too late to fix things, you know," she says softly. You're not sure if you have a good answer to that. <<include "youthinkv">>

If you'd made different choices, if you'd acted faster or taken other paths… how many people would be alive today? <<nobr>><<if $brionyhate is false and $briony gte 50>> Briony slips a hand around your arm. "Hey," she says softly. "Don't torture yourself. You can't save everyone." <br><br> "But in another world, maybe I could," you point out. <br><br> She shakes her head. "It does no good to think like that. You're in this world, and that's all we've got." <<elseif $tallyssex is true or $tallysromanceflag gte 15 or $tallys gte 70>> On your right side, Tallys silently slips her hand into yours, squeezing hard to give you some comfort. <<elseif $ayla gte 70 or $aylaromanceflag gte 15>> Ayla nudges your foot: it's almost a kick, but there's something gentle in it, as if to say, <i>Hey, don't do that to yourself.</i> <<else>> Everyone nods as if they understand what you mean, but no one makes a move to comfort you. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "youthinkv">>

Ayla laughs softly. "They're gone, ain't they? Seems good enough to me." But you're not so sure. <<include "youthinkv">>

<<nobr>><<if $brionyhate is false>> Briony rolls over onto her side to gift you a quiet smile. "That's how I feel, too," she whispers, content. "I love everything how it is. I wouldn't want it to change, not for anything. In fact, it's the idea of it being any <i>different</i> that scares me." <br><br> <<include "youthinkv">> <<else>> <<include "youthinkv">> <</if>><</nobr>>

You look around at the others. "What about you?" <<nobr>><<if $brionyhate is true>> "I'd want Nathe to be alive," Briony says, bluntly. To your other side, Ayla winces in sympathy. <br><br> <<include "youthinkvi">> <<else>> Briony sighs, staring up at the sky again. "I suppose if I <i>had</i> to choose," she says slowly, "I'd… I'd make it so that things are exactly as they are now, except that I didn't have amnesia. Then I wouldn't have to guess about anything. I'd have a normal childhood, a normal life—and then I'd get kidnapped and brought to the arena, and then everything would go the same way as it has now, except I'd know where I came from. And it would probably be sad, but… I wouldn't have to wonder. I'd <i>know.</i>" She pauses. "And maybe I'd like to see a world where—" She trails off. "No, never mind." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"What is it?"' 'whatisitembarrassedbrionysays'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Let the matter drop.' 'youthinkvi'>><</link>></li> </ul> <</if>><</nobr>>

She smiles at you in an embarrassed way. "Maybe a world where I was a bit better-looking, and everyone who saw me fell madly in love with me. I expect I wouldn't like it all that much, but it'd be fun to see." <ul class="choices"> <<if $brionyromanceflag gte 5>><li><<link '"But you\'re already so beautiful, just as you are!"' 'areyoujokinginsanelyprettybriony'>><<set $brionyromanceflag += 2>><<if $aylaromanceflag gte 5>><<set $aylaromanceflag -=1>><</if>><<if $tallyssex is true or $tallysromanceflag >= 10>><<set $tallysromanceflag -= 1>><</if>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link '"It would be fun to live in a world like that, wouldn\'t it? I might wish for something like that, too."' 'idliketoseeaworldlikethatbriony'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'m already living in that world. For myself, that is."' 'imalreadylivinginthatworldformyselfthatis'>><<if $tallyssex is true>><<settallys -1>><</if>><<if $aylaromanceflag gte 10>><<set $aylaromanceflag -= 1>><</if>><<setcourage +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"That\'s silly. You could see any alternate reality, and that\'s what you would pick?"' 'thatsillyyoucouldseeanyalternatereality'>><<setbriony -3>><<setcompassionate -1>><<setcharisma -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Briony makes an embarrassed sound and punches your shoulder, blushing fiercely. "Stop!" she cries, covering her face. "I didn't say it to make you compliment me, it was just how I was feeling—I'm so <i>boyish</i>, and I'm such a <i>clod</i>—" "Briony—" She squeals again and rolls around, clearly embarrassed. "Stop! Just forget I said anything!" <<nobr>> <br><br> <<if $tallyssex is true or $tallysromanceflag gte 10>> Over the sounds of your laughter, though, you notice that Tallys has fallen silent—and is currently cutting you quite the unimpressed look. <<elseif $aylaromanceflag gte 10>> Over the sounds of your laughter, though, you notice that Ayla has fallen silent, scowling and stabbing a twig in the dirt with unwarranted viciousness. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "youthinkvi">>

"No," Briony says, blushing fiercely but sounding breezy, "no one is." You're not entirely convinced; you're sure you've seen several recruits mooning after Briony the way you've seen them mooning after Blade, Trouble, Tallys, Shery, Chase, Riel, Halek, Ayla, and Red—but Briony seems either embarrassed or oblivious, so you hold your peace for now. <<include "youthinkvi">>

Briony grins at you sheepishly. "Right? It'd be fun!" <<include "youthinkvi">>

She shoves you playfully. "Cad! You think everyone is madly in love with you?" "Aren't they?" She snorts. "You wish!" <<nobr>> <br><br> <<if $tallyssex is true or $tallysromanceflag gte 10 or $numberofromances gte 1>> "No," Tallys says in an extremely dry, droll tone, cutting you an unimpressed look. "It's true." <br><br> Ayla nods sagely. "Yeah... Bit of a dickish thing to say it out loud, but <<c firstname>> has pull <i>and</i> reach." <br><br> Briony blushes, apparently unable to find the words to respond to that. <<elseif $aylaromanceflag gte 10>> On the other side of the fire, Ayla just rolls her eyes and mutters something under her breath. Her tone is self-depracting, but the conversation moves on before you get a chance to ask her about her thoughts on the matter. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "youthinkvi">>

She covers her face and rolls around in the dirt for a bit, embarrassed. "You asked!" <<include "youthinkvi">>

"I'd want a world where my parents were alive and with me," Ayla says after a moment. "And good people. I'd hate it if they were alive but scumbags." Everyone falls silent for a moment at that. After a moment, you glance at Tallys. "What about you, Tallys?" The Elf doesn't answer, turned now on her side and not facing the stars. From her breathing, you think she's fallen asleep—but the set of her shoulders is tense and still. Her silence is enough of an answer, and the night passes by as snow begins to fall, obscuring the stars. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "youthinkvii">><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<if settings.music is true>><<audio ":playing" fadeout>><</if>><</nobr>>You keep traveling north, the crowded roads and plentiful towns of the Central Territories falling away once again to the more desolate and chilly hinterlands of the Shield Peaks. Thielwood comes into view: the vast green carpet of the Continent's oldest forest, said to be the cradle of civilization, an ancient and primeval greenwood that seems as big as an ocean and stretches all the way to the coast of the Banteen Sea. The closer you come to "the Elder Wood," which is only a few days' ride north of Lockwood, the more you begin to hear of mischief on the road from passing travelers, warning both of strange, supernatural entities as well as vicious bandits on the road—some of them potentially refugees displaced by the attacks on Lockwood and driven to a life of crime in order to survive the harsh winter without a home. On the night before you come into view of Lockwood, you're faced with a decision: should you stay at an inn, in a Norm town that has seen few Diminished—if any—pass through its gates, or do you risk camping out again on the cold road, where bandits and wild predators are said to lurk? "I say we take our chances with the wilderness," Tallys says. "I'm at home in the trees—I'd take a hungry wolf over hostile Norm yokels any day." Briony chews her lip. "I suppose I could go either way," she admits, "though it'd be nice to sleep in a warm bed for once, and the fee for the inn would be a tiny fraction deducted from that hefty cheque. But if we camp, my ward should shield us for the night—unless someone already knew we were there, in which case it'd be useless." "I say we stay in town," Ayla says gruffly. "I can fight off villagers, but I don't like to fuck around with bandits. Desperate people who think they're going to starve are capable of anything." The three women all look to you for direction. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"We\'ll stay at the inn in town."' 'innlockwood'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"We\'ll make camp along the road."' 'camplockwood'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Briony sighs and looks longingly at the warm lights of the little town behind you. "Aye-aye, Captain." You make camp in a deep copse off the main road, in a thick glade of trees that should obscure your campfire's light from passing travelers. Ayla gathers firewood, Tallys cooks, you set up the bedrolls, and Briony digs the latrine and draws the circle of protection, all of you moving in easy synchronization. Tallys prepares a delicious vegetable stew, the kind that leaves a sheen of grease on your lips afterwards, which you wash down with icy water from the river nearby. Ayla says, "What'd you put in this, Tal?" "Witch's bane," Tallys answers serenely. You all break into a fit of laughter at that. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "camplockwoodi">><</link>></center>

You fall asleep after a few hours, comforted by the fact that Briony's magic bubble—which arcs like a translucent umbrella over your camp—renders you invisible to most eyes, "except apparently cats," as she's explained. But then, abruptly, you find yourself being woken up by Ayla, who shakes you urgently and hisses something in your ear. Her breath smells of hot cinnamon and spices, no doubt due to the root-like <i>taban'tha</i> stick she was chewing before bed. "Wake up," she hisses. "<i>Bandits</i>." You sit up, the sudden absence of your blanket making you shiver in the cold night air. Dim, shadowy figures are moving beyond the filmy shield of Briony's spell. For now, it seems they still can't see or hear you, but as soon as they cross the ward boundary and blunder into your camp, they'll see you just as clearly as you'll see them. You try and listen, and their voices come to you, faint and muffled. "Where are they? I thought you said they were right here." "They were! I've been watching them all day, they were posted up right here, right by this rock. See?" "Then where are they?" "Maybe they heard us coming?" "They couldn't have vanished into thin air." "Maybe they could've. They're Shepherds, I think." "I don't know about this, Eaton. These're the Autarch's men, taking their things is…" "Risky." "I don't care. Little Hekol's sick, and we need the money if he's going to see a physicker, and if we'll have supplies to last the winter. Them's medallions're solid gold. We need them. You want to go back to camp empty-handed?" "No." "Good. Then help us look. And stay sharp. If we need to make 'em bleed for that gold, we will." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "camplockwoodii">><</link>></center>

You count ten thieves, their figures rangy and wiry, some armed with knives and sickles and one armed with a bow. From what you can make out, their clothes are ragged, and they seem a ragtag band; they move not with the practiced stealth of experienced bandits, but of people more accustomed to hunting deer than humans. Tallys has drawn her bow, and is pointing her arrow straight at the leader's throat. "Permission to fire?" she asks you softly. You have no doubt that she'll meet her mark, the arrow flying out of the ward like a phantom projectile from nowhere. Beside her, Briony has drawn Gonturan, the blade glinting white in the moonlight, and Ayla's wind-staff stands at the ready. You know that as soon as you leave the boundary of the spell, you'll all be seen—but you should be able to dispatch these amateurs with ease. On the other hand, if these are refugees driven to theft by desperation and hunger, you're not sure if a battle is going to be the most helpful solution. On the other, <i>other</i> hand, they sound desperate enough to cut your throats, and you would do well not to underestimate them. "<<c firstname>>?" Ayla keeps her voice soft, even though your enemies still can't hear you. Her amber eyes seem to glow in the dark. "What's our move?" <ul class="choices"> <<if $psionic gte 45 and $magic gte 50>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Add to Briony\'s ward, strengthening the illusion and turning you so invisible that the bandits could bump right into you and never notice.</div>' 'addtobrionyswardcamp'>><<setpsionic +3>><<setmagic +1>><<setbriony +2>><<setayla -3>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Add to Briony\'s ward, strengthening the illusion and turning you so invisible that the bandits could bump right into you and never notice.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link 'Attack them and aim to kill.' 'attackthemandaimtokillcamp'>><<setcompassionate -10>><<setayla +1>><<if $strength lt 50>><<sethealth -5>><<setreputation -2>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Attack them, but only aim to scare them away.' 'attackthembutonlyaimtoscarethemaway'>><<setcompassionate +5>><<settallys +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Step out of the ward and address the bandits.' 'stepoutofwardaddressbanditscamp'>><<setcharisma +2>><<setbriony +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

You concentrate, using your magic to shore up and reinforce Briony's spell the way you might slather bricks together to support a crumbling wall. The film of the spell strengthens and intensifies until it's as thick and opaque as frosted glass. One of the bandits accidentally steps into the boundary line and stares right past you, squinting blindly. He brushes through your camp, stumbles against a rock, and curses. You hold your breath. Then he shakes his head and moves on, oblivious to Tallys standing a hair's width away from him and pointing an arrow directly at his face. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "addtobrionyswardcampi">><</link>></center>

After a few moments, the bandits move on, moving further into the copse and grumbling about where you could have gone. Briony lets loose a breath and flops down to to the ground in relief. "Nice work, <<c firstname>>," she says, sounding glad. "They never even noticed us! That'll show them." Ayla looks less approving. "They're just going to rob someone tomorrow night," she points out. "And the night after that. And those people aren't going to have a fancy invisibility spell to protect them." "It's not our responsibility," Tallys says with a sigh, putting away her bow. "We're demon-fighters, investigators of the arcane and supernatural. Bandits are someone else's problem." "Who? The Autarch's? This Naveen woman? Clearly <i>they</i> haven't done shit." You suddenly feel very weary, your eyes aching from your interrupted sleep. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"That\'s enough, Ayla. What\'s done is done."' 'thatsenoughaylawhatsdoneisdone'>><<setayla -3>><<setloyal -1>><<setcompassionate -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I removed the threat. Isn\'t that good enough?"' 'iremovedthethreatisntthatgoodenough'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I acted on impulse. I\'m sorry if you think that was the wrong choice."' 'iactedonimpulseimsorrywrongchoice'>><<setloyal +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I wasn\'t going to kill them. This was the most peaceful solution."' 'iwasntgoingtokillthemthiswasmostpeacesolution'>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Maybe you\'re right, Ayla. Maybe we should have confronted them."' 'maybeyourerightcamp'>><<setayla +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

The Wind-Mage's eyes sharpen dangerously at your stern tone, and she opens her mouth to argue more. Tallys, however, lays a hand on her shoulder and shakes her head; Ayla snorts, turns away, and flings herself down onto her bedroll, silent and sullen. Briony glances between you and the inert Wind-Mage. She tries for a smile, though it's weak and forced. "Let's just try and get more sleep before dawn, all right?" she offers. <<include "lieawake">>

Ayla frowns, but seems to consider this. After a moment, she shrugs. "I suppose, yeah. Sorry if I spoke out of turn. I just…" Then she trails off and shakes her head. "Never mind. Let's just go back to sleep, all right?" <<include "lieawake">>

Ayla looks away, frowning. "What's done is done. Can't change it now—let's just go back to sleep." <<include "lieawake">>

She looks away, seemingly indifferent to your answer. "As you say." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "nextmorninglockwoodi">><</link>></center>

Ayla pauses, watching your face. Finally, she sighs and looks away. "Never mind," she grumbles, tucking away her wind-staff. "At least no one was hurt, and—they're gone now. Let's just go back to sleep." <<include "lieawake">>

But you all lie awake for the rest of the night, listening in the dark for noises that never come. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "nextmorninglockwoodi">><</link>></center>

Tallys nods once and looses her arrow; it pierces the bandit leader through the throat, sprouting out of his neck like a thorn. He gurgles and topples to the ground, though so quietly that initially, none of the other bandits notice. Then one of them stumbles over his body, and they scatter. <<nobr>><<if $strength gte 50>> It's quick, gruesome work after that. Briony steps out of the ward and hacks, slashes, and punches her way through their group; Ayla uses the wind to drag them into a central position, rather than letting them scatter. <br><br> You step out with your $mainweapon and put a swift end to their lives. The last thing the bandits ever see is <<if $mainweapon is "sword">> the silver flash of your sword in the moonlight. <<elseif $mainweapon is "dagger">> the quicksilver dart of your dagger in the moonlight. <<elseif $mainweapon is "gun">> the brief muzzle flash of your gun in the dark. <<else>> the near-silent blur of your arrows in the moonlight. <</if>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "attackthemandaimtokillcampi">><</link>></center> <<else>> You try and charge after them into the heavily-wooded thicket, but you quickly lose track of your prey in the dark. You blunder onwards, swinging your $mainweapon aimlessly, but all is confusion and darkness and panic. One bandit leaps out at you from behind a tree and socks you in the eye, making stars explode in your vision. By the time your sight clears of the starbursts of pain, you're on your back, and most of the group has fled. <br><br> Ayla spits on the ground while Briony fusses over your swollen eye. "Well. We scared 'em off, but they'll live to rob someone else tomorrow." <br><br> "At least they won't come back here," Tallys says as she mixes a salve for your eye. If she finds the fact that a common bandit got the jump on you embarrassing, she doesn't say so. "That's our only concern for tonight." <br><br> Briony offers you a weak smile as you tenderly touch your face. "One disaster averted. That bodes well for tomorrow, I think!" <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "nextmorninglockwoodi">><</link>></center> <</if>><</nobr>>

Afterwards, your camp stands in grim and bloodied silence. Your team gathers the bandit's bodies into a pile and light a funeral pyre; you don't find any objects referring to their identities, except a few tokens here and there that seem to allude to wives, husbands, and children. It doesn't matter, you tell yourself as you watch the bodies burn. They aimed to steal from you, maybe even to kill you. You only responded in kind. Above, the embers of the pyre mingle with the cold light of the stars. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "nextmorninglockwood">><</link>></center>

You quickly explain the plan to the others before bursting out of the ward boundary, shouting and brandishing your $mainweapon. The bandits yelp and scatter as if a bear had crashed through the underbrush, running blindly in all directions as Tallys, Briony, and Ayla chase them, using magic and weaponry to drive their quarry away even faster. The wind whips and tears at them; magical fire and light showers down like small comets; a storm of arrows rain from overhead. It gives the bandits a few bruises and scratches for their trouble, but mostly they're able to escape unscathed. From their terrified screams and shouts, though, it sounds like they regret their decision to try to rob you—and they won't be back anytime soon. "That was fun!" Briony laughs, wiping sweat from her brow as the four of you make your way back to camp, panting as if you'd gone on a nice run. "Think they'll think twice about robbing Shepherds in the future?" "Definitely," Tallys says. "Though whether that will apply to common, everyday travelers, I can't say." "They'll rob someone tomorrow," Ayla says, wiping her brow as well. "And the night after that, and after that. It's their way." She glances at you. "But I guess it's not our problem, so we probably can't worry about it." You flop down onto your bedroll. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"We can\'t worry about every single crime committed in the world. We can\'t stop them all, and fretting about it will drive us mad."' 'wecantworrysinglecrimecommittedinworldfretting'>><<settallys +3>><<setintelligence +1>><<setcunning +1>><<setloyal -5>><<setcompassionate -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I don\'t care what happens to other people. We make sure we survive, and whatever else happens, happens."' 'idontcarewhathappensotherpeoplesurvive'>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setcunning +1>><<setbriony -3>><<setayla -1>><<settallys +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Well, now I feel bad. But I didn\'t want to kill them."' 'wellnowifeelbadbutdidntwanttokillthemtallys'>><<setcompassionate +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I think we taught them a lesson that they won\'t soon forget. Maybe they\'ll reconsider their line of work."' 'ithinkwetaughtthemlessonsoonforgetreconsider'>><<setintelligence +1>><<setbriony +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Remain silent. You have no particular thoughts on the matter.' 'remainsilentnoparticularthoughtsonmatter'>><<setayla -3>><</link>></li> </ul>

Ayla frowns, but she seems to see the sense in what you're saying. "If you say so," she says, her voice sounding skeptical and somewhat hesitant. <<include "bedroll">>

Ayla gives you one hard look. "If you say so," is all she says. But it seems she's not entirely happy with your line of thinking. Neither is Briony, who now frowns as she gets ready for bed again. You spend the rest of the night lying awake, listening in the dark for noises that never come back. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "nextmorninglockwoodi">><</link>></center>

Ayla nods slowly. "I guess that makes sense. Don't want any more blood on our hands than we have to have." <<include "bedroll">>

Ayla looks skeptical. "If you say so." <<include "bedroll">>

She drops down into her bedroll, and you spend the rest of the night lying awake, listening for sounds that never come back. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "nextmorninglockwoodi">><</link>></center>

Ayla sighs and drops down onto her bed. "Let's just go back to sleep." But a sense of unease pervades the camp. You spend the rest of the night lying awake, listening in the dark for noises that never come back. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "nextmorninglockwoodi">><</link>></center>

<<set $banditturn to 0>>Before anyone can stop you, you step out of the boundary of the ward, popping into sight and raising your hands in the air. "Stop. I'm unarmed, and I just want to talk." One of the bandits actually lets loose a high-pitched squeal of alarm at your sudden appearance; it must have sounded as if a ghost had addressed them from thin air. The others jump, whirling around and brandishing their motley weapons. After a beat, Briony, Ayla, and Tallys also emerge from the bubble, holding their weapons loosely in their hands and looking grim. For a few moments, you're locked in a stand-off, staring at each other and straining your eyes in the dark. Finally, the shadowy figure of the group's apparent leader speaks. "Let's make this easy," he says, his voice cautious. "We outnumber you ten to four. Hand over your valuables—and those gold medallions—and no one gets hurt." <<include "thievesconvince">>

<<nobr>><<if $banditturn is 3>> <<include "thievesfail">> <<else>> <ul class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("speaktothemincalmtonesbandits")>><li><<link 'Speak to them in calm tones. "We don\'t need to do that. I just want to know why you\'re doing this."' 'speaktothemincalmtonesbandits'>><<set $banditturn += 1>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("speaktobanditthreateningly")>><li><<link 'Speak to them threateningly. "You would regret that. You may have the numbers, but we\'re trained fighters... and we have magic."' 'speaktobanditthreateningly'>><<set $banditturn += 1>><<setcompassionate -1>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("jokelightlybanditsnotrealgold")>><li><<link 'Joke lightly to ease the atmosphere and make them feel more friendly. "I\'m afraid they aren\'t even real gold. The Autarch\'s a cheap-arse, so it\'s all painted nickel. Typical, eh?"' 'jokelightlybanditsnotrealgold'>><<set $banditturn += 1>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li><</if>> </ul> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $compassionate gte 65 and $charisma gte 45>> "Why we're doing this?" the bandit leader demands. "Why do you think? Because we have to!" He gestures around at the hungry, wiry figures of shadow ranged all around you. "We lost our homes! Our families are living in the woods, starving and ill! We've got nowhere to go, no work, no way to earn coin or food, not with our villages razed to the ground. No way to pay for transport to the bigger cities, where maybe the Autarch or the Lockwoods could help us." He spits. "All because these monsters came out of nowhere and burned down our homes. And where were you—the Shepherds who are supposed to protect us from all that?" <br><br> "Not here," another bandit iterates. "So now you can make it up to us with gold. Seems like a fair deal." <br><br> "We're on our way to Lockwood now," you explain. "To investigate this problem and hopefully prevent anyone else from losing their homes. No one told us about the attacks until recently. We came as soon as we could." <br><br> "You rob us now, you prevent us from helping people like you," Ayla puts in then. <br><br> That makes the bandits hesitate. <br><br> "What do you want?" the bandit leader asks finally, speaking in a thick voice. <<include "convincebandits">> <<else>> However, your soothing tone only seems to annoy the bandits. "Shut yer mouth," one of them growls. "Don't talk to us like we're wild animals. And hand over your coin!" <<include "thievesconvince">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $compassionate lte 40>> Briony's fist flashes with dark fire for emphasis, and the wind plucks and gnaws at the bandits' clothes. That makes them hesitate, and they look around, murmuring amongst themselves. <br><br> "You can't use magic against us," the bandit leader says, his voice still defiant but wavering. "The Autarch won't allow it. You're only supposed to use it against demons." <br><br> "We can use our powers in defense of our lives," Tallys puts in calmly. "And you are threatening those very lives now." <br><br> "And where were those powers when we lost our homes to the monsters?" another bandit demands then, his voice hoarse and angry. "When they came from nowhere, burning and killing, taking everything we had and forcing us to steal to survive? Where were you and your powers then?" <br><br> Briony shifts uneasily, glancing at you. "We're sorry about that," she begins, her voice low and cool. "We're on our way to address those attacks now; we weren't informed about them until now. But if you do battle with us, we'll have to kill you—and that will be in defense of our mission. Our mission to help people like you." <br><br> You look at them, at the gaping blackness of where their faces should be. "And who do you think the Autarch will believe, at the end of all things? Her own agents, sent to risk our lives and take care of monsters, or the attackers who were foolish enough to try and waylay them?" <br><br> That convinces him; the leader gestures sharply to the others, who lower their weapons hesitantly. The man blows out a harsh breath. "What do you want?" he asks in a thick voice. <<include "convincebandits">> <<else>> The other bandits scoff, your threat falling short of actually convincing them. "Do your worst," one of them says. "You're lawmen; we're desperate. We'll see who plays the dirtiest." <<include "thievesconvince">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $charisma gte 50>> None of the bandits laugh, exactly, at your joke, but you sense the atmosphere relaxing, the set of their shoulders lowering just the tiniest fraction. <br><br> The bandit leader says, his voice wary: "I'm afraid I'll have to take what I can get, friend. We're desperate. Got no food, no houses, and our wives and children are ill. We lost everything to these damn attacks in the North. Even if that is nickel around your necks, we need it." <br><br> You keep your posture easy and genial. "I understand your plight," you say in friendly tones. "Really, I do. And I want to help you. But I have to say that this is not the solution. We're on our way to address these attacks in the North, right at this very moment. Lady Naveen of Lockwood wrote to us for our help. If you take the marks of our authority, you're going to slow us down by a lot—and we may be too late to help people just like you." <br><br> That gives the bandits pause; they all look to their leader. After a long moment he says thickly: "So what do we do now?" <<include "convincebandits">> <<else>> Your joke falls abysmally flat and even seems to anger some of the bandits. <br><br> "You think this is a laughing matter?" one of them growls. "My mother's sick and in need of medicine, and you joke around?" <<include "thievesconvince">> <</if>><</nobr>>

"Enough talk," the leader spits then. "Get 'em!" What ensues then is a messy, bloody fight. Briony leaps into action, her sword blazing, punching and kicking and dodging. Tallys lets loose a hailstorm of arrows, each one meeting its mark with deadly precision. Ayla waves her hand, and a strange vortex drags the bandits into a tight-knit circle, creating a formation like the bullseye of a target. They're unable to scatter by the time you raise your $mainweapon to meet them. <<nobr>><<if $strength gte 50>> Despite your wishes, there is only one way such a battle can go. Before long, all of the bandits lie dead in a heap before you, and Briony is wiping her bloody sword on some grass while Tallys gathers kindling for a funeral pyre. It was as quick as exterminating a nest of rats—easier, even. You're not sure how you feel about that. <br><br> Ayla pats your shoulder awkwardly as you watch the bodies go up in a blaze of light. "You tried, <<c firstname>>," she says gruffly. "You gave them a choice, and they made their decision. That's just the way it goes, sometimes." <br><br> You nod, watching the embers of the pyre rise to mingle with the cold and distant light of the stars. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "nextmorninglockwoodi">><</link>></center> <<else>> <<set $cheekscar to true>>They fight back surprisingly well, however, the desperation of their position lending ferocity and strength to their counter-attacks. Ayla sweats, trying to hold them in place with just the power of the wind. You make a misstep, get too close to the cluster—and suddenly the bandit-leader's knife whips out, slashing you across the cheek and opening a line of fire down your face. <br><br> You stumble back, and Briony darts in to slash and hack with Gonturan—but soon enough, the bandits are able to break free of Ayla's vortex and scatter into the woods, shouting and cursing you to Hael. You bring a hand to your face and feel hot blood seeping between your fingers. <br><br> Tallys is at your side in a flash, peeling your hand away to get a look at your wound. She curses softly in Elvish and then begins to rummage in her hip-pouch for a few numbing herbs. <br><br> <<if $specialization is "healer">> <<set $cheekscar to false>>You wave her away. "It's all right," you say, magic already beginning to knit the wound and setting your face aglow with ethereal light. "I can heal it. It was stupid of me to get that close." <<else>> Briony makes a ball of light and then gasps, seeing your face. "Oh, <<c firstname>>! Are you all right?" <br><br> "It'll leave a scar," Tallys says grimly, dabbing at your cheek with a clean handkerchief. <</if>> <br><br> Ayla is staring off, into the dark. "We lost them," she says finally, casting a concerned glance back at you. "They probably won't be back, but they won't forget this. If word spreads, other bandits might want to make a play at us in the future." <br><br> Briony bares her teeth. "Let them," she says. "After what they did to <<c firstname>>, I'll wring their necks, one by one. And after you tried to give them a chance!" <br><br> "We all make our choices," Tallys says then, heavily. She hands you a paste of herbs to chew. "They've made theirs, and they'll have to live with them. Just like we'll have to live with ours." Her green eyes meet yours. "Let's hope we haven't done anything we regret." <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "nextmorninglockwoodi">><<setreputation -8>><<sethealth -10>><</link>></center> <</if>><</nobr>>

<ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I want to help you. What do you need?"' 'iwanttohelpyoubandits'>><<setcompassionate +5>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You need to just walk away from here peacefully. If you don\'t bother us again, we won\'t bother you."' 'banditsleave'>><<setcharisma +3>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li> <<if $specialization is "healer" and $astral gte 40>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Take me to your camp. I can\'t solve all your problems, but at least I can help your sick."</div>' 'takemtoyourcampbanditsproblems'>><<setcompassionate +8>><<setbriony +3>><<setayla +1>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">"Take me to your camp. I can\'t solve all your problems, but at least I can help your sick."</div>'>><</link>><</if>> </ul>

The bandit leader pauses, as if surprised by your response and more than a little suspicious of it. "What do you mean?" he demands. "We need gold—gold for medicine, for food, for materials and shelter. Maybe even transport, if we can get it, and move our families somewhere we can recover and find work." You stare steadily back at him. "How much gold?" There's a long silence again; he hesitates. "One hundred deucalions," he says finally. Somewhere in the back of the group, Ayla makes a muffled noise of disbelief. <ul class="choices"> <<if $gold gte 100>><li><<link 'Hand him one hundred deucalions of your personal gold. "Take it, and be well."' 'handhimonehundreddeucalionspersonalgold'>><<setgold -100>><<setcompassionate +10>><<setreputation +5>><<setbriony +3>><<set $brionyromanceflag += 1>><<if $tallys gte 65>><<set $tallysromanceflag += 1>><<settallys +2>><</if>><<if $ayla gte 60>><<setayla +3>><<else>><<setayla -1>><</if>><</link>></li><<else>><<disabled 'Hand him one hundred deucalions of your personal gold. "Take it, and be well."'>><</if>> <li><<link '"I can\'t give you that."' 'abandonbandits'>><<setcunning +3>><<setcompassionate -5>><</link>></li> </ul>

For a moment, the bandit leader is agog. "We wanted to rob you, and you give us your gold freely?" "You acted out of desperation," you reply. "Hopefully this will be enough to elevate your positions, and make it so that you don't have to resort to crime to survive." He accepts the coinpurse from your reverently, carefully, as if you're a beautiful illusion that might disappear as soon as he touches you. "Thank you," he whispers. "I'll… we'll never forget this. Your kindness—you must be a saint. Thank you. I'll make sure everyone in my village knows your name." You shake hands as friends and exchange names: he is Eaton of the former village Arrowspoint, and he swears to tell everyone all he knows of your generosity. Afterwards, when the bandits have turned and disappeared into the dark wood, Briony turns and flings her arms around you. "You truly are a saint," she exclaims. "One hundred deucalions! You may have saved an entire community." "Let us hope they use it for good," Tallys remarks, putting away her bow with a sigh. "It was an admirable move, <<c firstname>>. I pray they don't let it go to waste." Ayla nods to you, then puts her fists together and bows slightly at the waist. It's a Jalis gesture, one you don't recognize—but still, you sense that it's a gesture of deep and wordless respect. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "nextmorninglockwoodi">><</link>></center>

The man snorts, as if he'd expected that. "I suppose I'm not surprised. Well, then. Seems we're at an impasse, and I don't care to stay any longer, bandying useless words." He jerks his head to the rest of the bandits and stalks off into the night. The rest follow, casting you baleful and contemptuous looks. Then they disappear, and you spend the rest of the night watching the shadows between the trees. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "nextmorninglockwoodi">><</link>></center>

The bandit leader looks skeptical. "And you won't take vengeance on us for trying to rob you? You won't follow us back to our camp?" You shake your head. "I don't even know who you are, and I have no interest in vengeance. Leave here in peace, and we'll have no need to retaliate against you." It only takes a moment for the bandit leader to consider this. Then he inclines his head. "Fine." He jerks his head towards the other bandits, and they silently retreat, melting into the shadows with only a few twigs snapped underfoot. Within minutes, it's as if they were never there. Briony blows out a breath of relief. "Nice job, <<c firstname>>," she murmurs. "I thought it was going to come to blood for a moment. This is much better." Ayla is staring off into the dark, looking like a vigilant hound alert for prey. "They'll leave us alone for tonight," she says, "but they'll rob someone else again tomorrow, and the night after that. Someone more helpless than us, someone who can't defend themselves." "They're bandits because of what happened in the North," Tallys reminds her. "Because they lost their homes to these attacks." She shakes her head. "The best thing we can do for them now is to hunt these monsters down and destroy them. We can give everyone a chance of recovery, if we can do that." Ayla sighs heavily and turns away, and you spend the rest of the night watching the treeline for shadows that never come. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "nextmorninglockwoodi">><</link>></center>

Immediately, Tallys' hand comes up to grip your upper arm. "This is not Endarkened-related," she murmurs. "And as such, the use of that kind of magic is not sanctioned by the Autarch. If she finds out…" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I don\'t care."' 'idontcaretallyscampbandit'>><<setorder -5>><<setloyal -5>><<setcourage +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"This is related. These people lost their homes due to some sort of supernatural creature. I\'m merely helping them, the way Shepherds are meant to."' 'thisisrelatedbanditcampproblem'>><<setintelligence +2>><<setcunning +1>><<setloyal +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Back down. You can\'t afford getting into trouble with the Autarch.' 'backdownyoucantaffordbanditcamp'>><<setloyal +10>><<setorder +5>><<setcourage -3>><<settallys +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Tallys sighs, but releases your arm. "I expected you wouldn't." She glances at the bandits and frowns. "…I can help, as well. I have herbs and tinctures." <<include "healcamp">>

Tallys sighs, but releases your arm. "As you say." She glances at the bandits and frowns. "…I can help, as well. I have herbs and tinctures." <<include "healcamp">>

"You're right," you say, deflating. "I didn't think of that." <<include "abandonbandits">>

"And me," Briony puts in. "I'm no good at precision magic, but I can funnel power to <<c firstname>> if that's what's needed." Ayla glances around at your group, then sighs, shifting her weight to one leg. "And I can… dress wounds, or whatever. Wherever I'm needed." The bandit leader stares. "You… you would really help us? Even after we tried to rob you?" "You acted out of desperation," you tell him. "If we can help you so that you're not desperate enough to turn to a life of crime, we'll have done our jobs." He seems hesitant, but you see the glint of a tentative smile on his face. "…Thank you. If you'll really do as you say… just… thank you." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "healcampi">><<setreputation +5>><<setastral +3>><<setmagic +3>><</link>></center>

<<set $samona to true>>He leads you back to his camp, which holds about fifty people, mostly displaced families who have fled into the wilderness to escape the attacks up North, beyond the outskirts of the Lockwood territory. Many are too wounded, young, old, weak, or sick to travel very far, certainly not to any larger settlements that could offer them aid, lodging, or work; and they are far enough outside the boundaries of any official fiefdom that no vassal leader wants to take responsibility for them. You make your rounds throughout the camp, which is lit through by large bonfires—to keep away the wolves, the bandit leader Eaton explains. You examine children with pneumonia, pregnant women with queen's fever, men and frightened teens with burn wounds that ooze clear pus. You work throughout the night, sending your healing magic in to soothe pains and close wounds and cool fevers. Tallys wordlessly distributes the right herbs and plants with instructions on how to brew them into helpful salves and medicines, and Briony makes conversation with the non-ill, eliciting smiles and even some laughs. Ayla is swarmed by curious children who cling to her wind-staff, begging for a ride. Eaton tells you that he hasn't heard the sound of laughter in his camp since they lost their homes. By the time dawn approaches, touching the sky with rosy fingers, your eyes sting and ache with weariness. But at least everyone in camp has been seen to. At the end of it all, Eaton clasps your hand and you shake as friends. He thanks you and your team profusely, saying that the gold they've already "earned" will be enough to see them through the winter, now that they don't have to worry about procuring expensive curatives and medical aid. "Please," he says, offering you some money. "For your help." You shake your head. "There's no need for that. Keep it so you can take care of your people." He blinks, then rummages around in his pocket. "Then, take this," he says, pressing something into your hand. It looks like a little wooden token, carved into the shape of a woman with a bow. "My son made it," Eaton explains, sounding hesitant and embarrassed. "It's Samona the Huntress, founder of our village, Arrowspoint. Carrying her likeness is said to imbue you with the strength to ensure your arrows always fly true." He scratches his ear. "I, er, hope it helps." You smile at him as you tuck it away into your pocket. "Thank you. I'm sure it will." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "nextmorninglockwoodi">><<setstrength +3>><<setbow +5>><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<if settings.music is true>><<audio "livelytavern" volume 0 loop fadeoverto 15 0.1>><<timed 15s>><<audio "livelytavern" fadeoverto 90 0>><</timed>><</if>><</nobr>>Tallys sighs and glances back at the darkness of the road behind you. "As you say, <<c rank>>." You make your way into town, Rivercross, a medium-sized little tourist stop on the way to Fort Lagann. This means it's a popular trading post for soldiers, merchants, farmers, and travelers alike. You stable your ahfuri and crowd into the town's second-largest inn, a bustling and cheerful place called The Golden Goose. Briony immediately flings off her heavy furred cloak and throws herself into a chair, crying out greedily, "<i>Food!</i>" Ayla follows suit, and Tallys heads up the back of the group, scanning the room with hooded eyes. Initially, no one takes any notice of your ragtag band, as new travelers trickle through the doors every half-hour or so, and rooms at the inn seem to be filling up fast. But then a waitress comes to take your orders, and her eyes widen slightly when she takes in Briony's unusual pink hair, Tallys' obvious pointed ears, the strange windstaffs and mythical blades and unique <<print $mainweapon>>s you carry. <<nobr>><<if $goggles is false>> Your glowing eyes. <<else>> At least she doesn't notice your glowing eyes, thanks to your goggles—but even with that concealment, your fearsome and unusual company doesn't help matters. <</if>><</nobr>> She scurries off, and it's not long before other patrons are nudging each other and whispering, jerking their heads towards you as their eyes take you in assessingly, and a little apprehensive hush falls slightly over the room. Ayla continues to stuff her face with a bowl of nuts left on your table, oblivious, but after a while Briony looks up with a frown, tensing lightly, and Tallys is coiled tight as a bowstring ready to snap. You notice that your food is ready, waiting all the way across the room on a tray left forgotten on a far counter, adding to the steam in the too-warm room. The waitress never brought it to you; perhaps she's too afraid to approach you again. Tallys fairly bares her teeth. "The wretches. I told you they didn't like to serve food to our kind." Briony takes a sip from the huge tankard of warmed fruit juice left on your table, flicking her eyes around the room. "Look at that gaggle in the corner. They're talking about us." Ayla doesn't look up. "They're <i>all</i> talking about us." Now she notices the food, too. "Oh, Hael's bells. I'm fucking hungry." You stand. "I'll get the food if the waitress won't." You leave the table just as Ayla, Briony, and Tallys lean over their cups of juice, whispering furiously, and make your way across the crowded room to retrieve your meals. Many of the other patrons pretend not to notice you, refusing to make room as you shuffle past: it doesn't feel outright hostile or aggressive, exactly, but there is an air of wariness and suspicion that seems to follow you. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "innlockwoodi">><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<set $onsgender to "">><<set $onsshe to "">><<set $onsher to "">><<set $onsthem to "">><<set $onsname to "">><</nobr>>When you finally reach the counter, obscured from your team's sight by all the intervening bodies, you finally notice the group that Briony was talking about. They're a crowd of young locals, all clear-faced and good-looking and smirking conspiratorially with each other: from your old memories of your hometown, you'd guess they're a group of bachelors and bachelorettes out for a night on the town, seeking suitable partners among the new faces and travelers passing through Rivercross before their imminent spring celebration—typically an important festival for people of their age group to "two," or court each other, with marriage as the endgoal. One last wild season before they end their singledom. They see you looking and whisper to each other furtively, some giggling, some smirking: you can't tell if they're praising you or making you the butt of some immature joke. There's no missing the slightly predatory look in their gazes, though; they look like a crowd of lions staring at a rabbit in a field. One of them finally plucks up the nerve to detach from the group and saunter over to you, leaning up against the counter and presenting you with a dazzling smile. You turn to assess the stranger. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'She\'s an admittedly beautiful young woman with night-dark skin, full lips, and a rich fall of black curls.' 'admittedlybeautifulwomandarkskinlips'>><<set $onsgender to "female">><<set $onsshe to "she">><<set $onsher to "her">><<set $onsthem to "her">><<set $onsname to "Fara">><</link>></li> <li><<link 'He\'s an admittedly handsome, brown-skinned young man with chiseled cheekbones and his white shirt opened to reveal an equally-chiseled chest.' 'admittedlyhandsomeyoungmanchiseledcheekbones'>><<set $onsname to "Ianthe">><<set $onsgender to "male">><<set $onsshe to "he">><<set $onsher to "his">><<set $onsthem to "him">><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Xe\'s an admittedly gorgeous and slim, pale-skinned person with a dusting of winsome freckles and captivating grey eyes.' 'admittedlygorgeousslimpersondustingfreckles'>><<set $onsname to "Caris">><<set $onsshe to "xe">><<set $onsher to "xer">><<set $onsthem to "xem">><<set $onsgender to "xixian">><</link>></li> </ul>

"Hello," the young woman says, sidling up close enough for you to feel the heat radiating from her skin, even in the already-warm room. Her white blouse is open enough to expose her slim collarbones, and her eyes are lined with expensive kohl. She gives you a long, slow, up-and-down look that is obvious in its meaning; her tongue drags slowly across her lower lip. "I'm Fara. What's a gorgeous stranger like you doing in a place like this?" <<include "innlockwoodii">>

"Hello," the young man says, his voice light and melodious. He slides close enough for you to feel the heat radiating from his skin, even in the already-warm room; he brushes fetching brown curls out of his eyes, which are long-lashed and a pretty green. He gives you a long, slow, up-and-down look that is obvious in its meaning; his throat bobs as he swallows, and his eyes keep flicking to your lips. "I'm Ianthe. What's a gorgeous stranger like you doing in a place like this?" <<include "innlockwoodii">>

"Hello," xe says, sidling close enough for you to feel the heat radiating from xer skin, even in the already-warm room. Xe reaches up to brush auburn hair out of xer eyes, xer hand flashing from the many rings lining xer fingers and thumb. Xe gives you a long, slow, up-and-down look that is obvious in its meaning; xer tongue drags slowly across xer bottom lip. "I'm Caris. What's a gorgeous stranger like you doing in a place like this?" <<include "innlockwoodii">>

<ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'You roll your eyes. "If you think a tired line like that is going to work, try again."' 'yourollyoureyestiredline'>><<setcunning +1>><<setcompassionate -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'You eye $onsthem with suspicion. You know exactly what this is about, and you\'re not going to be showcased like some novelty.' 'youeyeonsthemsuspicion'>><<setloyal -3>><<setcompassionate -1>><</link>></li> <<if $ace is false and $aroace is false>><li><<link 'You gaze back with equal interest. Okay, so the circumstances might be suspect... but $onsshe is also <i>very</i> attractive. ' 'onssexytime'>><<setcharisma +1>><<setcunning -1>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link 'You sniff and turn away to head back to your table without answering. No, thank you.' 'rejections'>><<setloyal -1>><</link>></li> <<if $ace is true or $aroace is true>><li><<link 'You suppress a groan before excusing yourself. When you notice them, these little mating rituals make you feel at best awkward, and at worst frustrated and uncomfortable.' 'suppressagroanandexcuseyourself'>><</link>></li><</if>> </ul>

<<c onsname>>'s face transforms from one of smooth confidence to surprised uncertainty. <<c onsshe>> quickly recovers and says, smiling again: "You're right, it was trite of me to even try. No real reason why you'd be interested in a country bumpkin like me when you're so obviously more… traveled." <<c onsher>> eyes linger on your sun medallion. "So, let me try again: what's your name, and what do I do to get to know you better?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Sorry, sport. There\'s no chance, and there never was."' 'rejections'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You blew it already. Sorry."' 'youblewitalreadysorry'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'You regard $onsthem with veiled interest. Despite the rocky start, you have to admit $onsshe <i>is</i> attractive.' 'youregardveiledinterestonsthem'>><</link>></li> </ul>

You're not totally sure that any line would have worked on you, but it's fun to make <<c onsname>> regret and wonder. <<include "rejections">>

<<c onsname>> notices your interest and smiles, confidence rapidly returning. "I suppose you could start with buying me a drink," you say. <<include "onssexytime">>

No doubt this fool wants to add you, the exciting Diminished prospect, to $onsher list of conquests: an exotic notch on $onsher belt, a ribald story to tell. <<c onsshe>> must be doing this to impress $onsher friends as they look on, or else was put up to this as a dare. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Tell $onsthem in no uncertain terms that you\'re not interested.' 'tellonsthemnotinterested'>><<setcourage +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Tell $onsthem in no uncertain terms to fuck off.' 'tellonsthemtofuckoff'>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setcharisma -3>><<setreputation -3>><<setloyal -3>><<setcourage +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Thank $onsthem politely for the attention, but indicate that you\'re on the job and unable to be distracted by what <<print $onsshe>>\'s implying.' 'thankonsthempolitelyjobindicate'>><<setcharisma +1>><<setreputation +1>><<setloyal +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Pretend to be interested for a bit, then brutally reject $onsthem in front of all $onsher friends.' 'pretendtobeinterestedbrutallyrejectonsthem'>><<setcunning +3>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setcharisma +2>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Tell $onsthem genuinely that you might be interested, but only if $onsshe treats you like a person, not like a magical "catch."' 'tellonsthemgenuinelyiftreatedlikeperson'>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setcharisma +1>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Walk away without saying anything.' 'rejections'>><</link>></li> </ul>

<<c onsname>>'s face falters for the first time, an expression of confusing crossing $onsher face. No doubt $onsshe's never really faced rejection before, growing up as a beauty in such a small community. But $onsshe nods after a moment and says politely, "I'm sorry to bother you, then, and I apologize if I made you uncomfortable." <<c onsshe>> departs back to $onsher group, head held high but shoulders slumping at the raucous cheers and unkind laughter that greet $onsher. <<include "table">>

<<c onsname>>'s face falters for a moment, then morphs into a deep frown when $onsshe registers what you just said. <<c onsshe>> withdraws in dignified but offended silence, walking back to $onsher group of friends, who jeer and laugh unkindly at first—then dwindle down to whispers and hostile glances at you once <<c onsname>> has had the chance to convey what happened. Unconcerned, you turn away with your tray of food. <<include "table">>

It's certainly flattering, but it would be unprofessional for you to engage in any sort of activity of the kind that <<c onsname>> is clearly looking for. <<c onsshe>> blinks for a moment, processing this, before $onsshe finally inclines $onsher head. "I understand," $onsshe says, a bit regretfully. <<c onsshe>> gifts you one last smile, this one somehow more sincere than the last. "Well, I hope you pass through here again sometime… and perhaps for leisure, rather than work. Have a good night." <<c onsshe>> goes back to $onsher table, head held high despite the answering jeers and unkind laughter of $onsher "friends." <<include "table">>

You entertain <<c onsname>>'s over-the-top and somewhat clumsy flirtations for a little while, leaning in close and pretending to be smiling and interested. Then, at a critical moment, you splash your drink in $onsher face and say, "Never in a thousand years would I ever be interested in you, and it was presumptuous for you to even think otherwise. Now remove yourself from my presence before I get really annoyed." Sputtering and outraged, <<c onsname>> slinks back to $onsher friends, who all howl with jeer and unkind laughter. A few even flip you a few approving thumbs-up. <<include "table">>

<<c onsname>> blinks rapidly for a moment, as if startled by this revelation. Then $onsshe smiles, and it's much more sincere than the last one. "It's a deal. I'm sorry if I made you feel that way—it wasn't my intention. Let's start over and try again. What's your name?" <<include "onssexytime">>

<<c onsname>>'s face slackens as $onsshe watches you walk away without giving $onsthem the time of day. No doubt <<print $onsshe>>'s never been treated like that before, in this tiny town with its limited amount of people. You feel a certain sense of satisfaction as $onsshe turns back to $onsher group of friends, slumping and defeated, and they all break out into uproarious, unkind laughter at $onsher rejection. <<include "table">>

You're not interested in the things this stranger is interested in, that's for sure. <<include "rejections">>

You make light conversation for a while, leaning closer to hear each other over the sounds of the crowded room. You know you should bring the food back to the table where Tallys, Ayla, and Briony are waiting, but it's hard to pull yourself away from the conversation: <<c onsname>> is positively magnetic, and the way $onsher eyes watch you in the warm light is a bit… intoxicating. <<c onsshe>> makes $onsher interest clear each time $onsshe tilts $onsher head back and laughs a tinkling kind of laugh; each time $onsshe bites $onsher lip, watching yours. The way $onsshe takes any excuse to edge closer to you, touch your arm with a trailing, blazing caress, and the way $onsshe leans close enough for you to smell the cinnamon on $onsher breath <<nobr>><<if $onsgender is "female">> and see the shadowy triangle of her cleavage. <<else>> and places a strong, slim hand on the small of your back. <</if>><</nobr>> Finally, <<c onsname>> regards you, smiling with all teeth. "It's getting a little warm in here," $onsshe notes, fanning $onsher face, which seems flushed. "Would you like to take this conversation… outside?" There's no real mistaking what that means. <ul class="choices"> <<link '<div class="flirt-item">Follow <<c onsname>> outside. </div>' 'followonsnameoutside'>><<set $makeout to true>><<setloyal -10>><<setreputation -5>><<setbriony -5>><<set $brionystatus to "She thought you were unprofessional in Rivercross.">><<if $brionyromanceflag gte 5>><<setbriony -10>><<set $brionyromanceflag -= 5>><<set $brionystatus to "You hurt her feelings in Rivercross.">><</if>><<setayla -5>><<set $aylastatus to "She looks down on you for your actions in Rivercross.">><<if $aylaromanceflag gte 5>><<setayla -15>><<set $aylaromanceflag -= 10>><<set $aylastatus to "You hurt her deeply in Rivercross.">><</if>><<settallys -5>><<set $tallysstatus to "She was exasperated by your unprofessional conduct in Rivercross, and lost respect for you.">><<if $tallysromanceflag gte 5 or $tallyssex is true>><<set $tallysromanceflag -= 3>><<set $tallysstatus to "Although you have a no-strings-attached arrangement, your actions still annoyed her in Rivercross.">><</if>><</link>> <li><<link 'Regretfully excuse yourself. While it would be fun, you\'re on a job and your teammates are waiting for you.' 'regretfullyexcuseyourselfyoureonajob'>><<setloyal +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Coyly excuse yourself. You\'ve had your fun teasing $onsthem, but the flirting was just for fun: it was never going to lead anywhere.' 'coylyexcuseyourselfflirtingwasfun'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Flatly reject $onsthem. <<c onsshe>>\'s going to have to work way harder to bed you, if that\'s what $onsshe wants.' 'flatlyrejectonsthemharder'>><<setcourage +1>><<setcompassionate -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

The others can retrieve their own food. <<c onsname>> laughs lightly and places $onsher arm around you, guiding you to the snowy alleyway outside. <<include "alleyway">>

<<c onsname>> frowns, but seems to understand. "Well," $onsshe says regretfully, "if you ever pass through Rivercross again, look me up. Hopefully you'll be here for… pleasure, instead of work." <<include "table">>

<<c onsname>> looks even more intrigued. "I see," $onsshe says slowly. <<c onsshe>> clears $onsher throat. "Well. If you ever change your mind, you know where to find me." <<c onsshe>> bids you a good night and excuses <<print $onsthem>>self, looking a bit confused, dazed, and quite flustered. <<include "table">>

<<c onsname>>'s sultry expression morphs into one of dismay and disbelief. "I… I see," <<c onsshe>> says, clearly confused. But $onsshe nods. "I understand. Well… if you ever change your mind, you know where to find me." <<c onsshe>> bids you a good night and excuses <<print $onsher>>self, looking confused, dazed, and quite flustered. <<include "table">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "alleywayi">><<if settings.music is true>><<audio ":playing" fadeout>><</if>><</link>></center>

No sooner have you closed the side door behind you that you find <<c onsname>>'s hands bunched in your shirt, dragging you closer for a heated, demanding kiss. <<c onsshe>> backs you up against the alley wall, the stone icy against your back as $onsshe moves from your lips to your neck in a hypnotizing, practiced rhythm. <<c onsshe>> kisses you with a heat and hunger that catches you off-guard, $onsher tongue swiping greedily against yours as $onsher hands roam over your body, teasing and exploring. You barely get a chance to break away, your lips already swollen, before $onsshe drags your head back enthusiastically for more. Then $onsshe slips a hand under your shirt, electricity thrilling up your skin at the contact. Inside the inn, you hear a series of shouts and a crash. You pause. "Forget it," <<c onsname>> whispers breathlessly, $onsher lips moving down to your neck, where $onsshe nips at the hollow of your throat and makes you shudder. "Probably one of the waitresses dropping a tray." A fuzzy notion that you might have forgotten something important rises out of the haze of desire in your mind as <<c onsname>> hastily begins to unbutton your shirt. <i>Waitress… tray…</i> <<nobr>><<if $onsgender is "female">> You delicately press against the hot flesh of <<c onsname>>'s thigh and $onsshe gives a pleased little moan. "Please," she whimpers, panting now. <<elseif $onsgender is "male">> Your fingers skim against the hot skin of Ianthe's stomach and he suddenly tenses and groans, almost against his will. "Please," he says, panting slightly. "I'm… <i>ah</i>." <<else>> You tug at the hair at the nape of Caris's neck and xe shudders, gasping at the sensation of it. "Please," xe mumurs, eyes falling shut in please. "I… <i>ah</i>." <</if>><</nobr>> <ul class="choices"> <<link '<div class="flirt-item">Fuck it. Where\'s the nearest bed? </div>' 'fuckitwheresnearestbed'>><<set $aylaromanceflag to 0>><<set $brionyromanceflag to 0>><<set $troubleromanceflag -= 7>><<set $bladeromanceflag to 0>><<set $redromanceflag -= 5>><<set $rielromanceflag to 0>><<set $tallysromanceflag -= 3>><<set $sheryromanceflag -= 5>><<set $cantbecommander += 1>><<setloyal -30>><<set $ons to true>><</link>> <li><<link 'With a wrench of effort, you break away. There was another crash inside.' 'withwrenchofeffortbreakaway'>><</link>></li> </ul>

<<c onsname>> grins, $onsher teeth white in the night. <<c onsshe>> takes your hand and leads you down the street, to the outskirts of town, where you tumble into an empty barn and fall into sweet-smelling hay. Soon enough <<c onsname>>'s mouth is back on your neck, then your chest, then your stomach… It's all you can manage to not arch into pleasure and sensation and lose yourself for the rest of the night. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "pissedbreakfast">><</link>></center>

<<c onsname>> groans with frustration. "You're going to drive me up the wall." But $onsshe follows you as you turn to bolt back inside. <<include "brawl">>

You awaken in the morning to the sounds of a crowing rooster. You crack open an eye and see a puzzling sight: dust motes swirling in golden sunlight, slanting through wooden slats, and the curious beak of a rooster hovering just before your eyes. It promptly pecks your nose, causing you to yelp and jolt up. Beside you, <<c onsname>> laughs, straw poking out of $onsher hair. "Surprised you stayed," $onsshe notes, grinning at you. "Aren't your other Shepherds going to wonder where you are?" You look up at the lightening sky again; it's well past dawn. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>"...Shit."</span></div></div>' "pissedbreakfasti">><</link>></center>

<<set $brawl to true>>By the time you get dressed and make your way back to the Golden Goose, your hair disheveled and full of straw, you find Briony, Ayla, and Tallys waiting for you at a breakfast table, staring at you in chilly silence. Ayla has a fading black eye, Briony seems to have had a bit of her hair chopped off, and Tallys practically vibrates with cold displeasure. They all look at you with utter distaste. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"What happened to you?"' 'pissedbreakfastii'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"What? ...We\'re all adults here!"' 'whatwerealladultsherepissedbreakfast'>><<setbriony -3>><<settallys -3>><<setayla -3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"...Am I late?"' 'amilatepissedbreakfast'>><</link>></li> </ul>

"You're not really judging me, are you?" They look at you with loathing. <<include "pissedbreakfastii">>

Briony sniffs and looks away from you, while Tallys finally says in clipped tones: "Quite late, yes." Ayla glowers at you. "Kind of you to disappear last night," she grates out. "You missed quite the commotion." <<include "pissedbreakfastii">>

"There was a bar fight," Tallys says, her face looking uncharacteristically haggard. "After you… departed. I looked up and Briony was casually pinning a man against the wall by his throat, and Ayla had decked another's lights out. I don't know whose temper broke first." "Bastards tried to proposition us," Ayla says, surly. "Friends of the tart you left with—they must have figured they could get the package deal. And when that didn't work, they called us names. Filthy names. You're saying you wanted me to take that lying down?" Briony is quieter, more embarrassed. "Sorry, Tallys," she says, eyes lowered. You notice that she doesn't apologize to you. Tallys sighs and rises. "It's done now—and at least the innkeeper didn't turn us out on our ears." She shrugs her pack on and heads to the cattery outside. "Come. We're losing daylight." The others follow, notably now following Tallys' lead rather than yours. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "tolockwood">><</link>></center>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "brawli">><<set $brawl to true>><</link>></center>

You open the door to find one of the most bizarre sights you've ever seen waiting for you. Much of the room has cleared; several locals are crowded on the far end of the room, either cowering or shouting fearfully. Briony is on the other side of the room, closest to your table, casually pinning a man several feet up the wall by his throat and speaking to him in low, deadly tones, her violet eyes blank and blazing with ethereal light. Ayla is sitting on top of another man's chest while he's sprawled on the ground, banging his head smartly against the floor; and Tallys is sitting on the table, contemplating her long white Elvish knife as she speaks calmly to two girls, who clutch themselves and look about ready to soil their dresses. You recognize all of them as <<c onsname>>'s friends, the ones who'd been standing in the corner. <<c onsshe>> appears beside you, hair mussed and eyes glazed, and takes in the scene for a moment. "Oh. Seems like your friends got a little drunk on the strawberry wine." You round on $onsthem. "Strawberry wine?" <<c onsshe>> nods, furrowing $onsher brow. "It's our town's specialty—we brew it every year in preparation for the springpole festival. You can't really taste the alcohol because it's so sweet—wait, you didn't know?" Briony is now lifting her opponent so high that his feet kick and dangle in the air like a child's; he sputters something derogatory and a chair in the corner of the room catches fire. A strange wind rips and pulls at the inn from outside. Okay. You've got a drunk Battle-Mage, Wind-Mage, and Elven archer on one hand, and a group of terrified and angry locals on the other. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Concentrate your efforts on explaining the misunderstanding to the locals and innkeeper.' 'concentrateyourefforts6locals'>><<setreputation +1>><<setcharisma +1>><<setloyal +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Address the two girls that Tallys is menacing. "What did you do?!"' 'addresstwogirls6tallys'>><<settallys +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Pull Ayla off of her victim. "Stop it! Get ahold of yourself!"' 'pullayla6off'>><<setayla +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Free Briony\'s victim. "You\'re going to kill him!"' 'freebriony6victim'>><<setbriony +1>><</link>></li> <<if $psionic gte 30 and $magic gte 45>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Silence the room with an enormous flash of magic.</div>' 'silencethe6room'>><<setorder -5>><<setreputation +1>><<setmagic +1>><<setpsionic +3>><<setloyal -5>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Silence the room with an enormous flash of magic.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $mainweapon is "gun" or $possess_gun is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Fire a bullet into the air, breaking up the brawl.</div>' 'firea6bullet'>><<setreputation -5>><<setorder -3>><<setreputation -1>><<setgun +1>><<setloyal -5>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Fire a bullet into the air, breaking up the brawl.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> </ul>

"We didn't know the drink you served was wine," you explain. "When Mages drink alcohol, things tend to… get out of hand. They're not normally like this." Some of the locals frown, and this probably reinforces their preconceived notions that Diminished are uncivilized beasts—but the innkeeper, at least, looks abashed. "My fault," he said. "By the time I realized, Cara'd already served your table, and I didn't want to embarrass you by taking the drink away." "Lottie and the others were asking for it," someone else adds: a pimply-faced youth with a stubborn chin. "I heard what they were saying to those girls. All manner of filth and insult. Davo gets into fights for much less every seventh day." There are a few murmurs of assent and agreement at that—so at least the villagers look a little less hostile and afraid. You corral a few of them into helping you break up the fight, and within minutes, things are set to rights again. <<include "brawlii">>

The two girls are too stunned to really give you a coherent answer, but your appearance is enough to calm Tallys down. She sighs and puts away her knife, ignoring the quivering locals as she turns to the destruction Briony and Ayla are wreaking. "I apologize," Tallys says to you, considerably more sober than they are: drink affects an Elf differently, especially when the Mages in question haven't been allowed to have alcohol in public long enough to build up a tolerance. "I don't know whose temper broke first, but—we can address that later. I'll get Briony if you get Ayla." Between the two of you, the fight breaks up quickly, with Tallys laying a hand on Briony's shoulder and speaking quietly into her ear. You have to haul Ayla bodily off her victim, and she still gets one last kick in before you get her clear. After several moments, though, you're able to set things to rights. <<include "brawlii">>

For a long while, Ayla doesn't seem to hear you, especially with the winter wind tearing and howling around outside—but finally she sits up and lets her victim fall back to the ground with a piteous scream. She stands up, dusting her clothes off in a perfunctory manner, but not before growling at the man: "If you ever talk to a woman that way again—to <i>anyone</i>—I'll come back and cut your balls off. You hear?" He curls in on himself with a whimper. "Yes. I'm sorry." She spits, wiping a reddened mouth. "Muti." Then she turns to face you, and you smell the alcohol on her breath. How much "juice" did they drink? Ayla looks around and blinks, a bit sheepishly. "Oh," she says. "We made a mess." It takes several minutes, but the two of you work on setting things to rights, and soon enough the fight breaks up. You watch Ayla use the wind to push the tables and chairs into some semblance of propriety, a little more sober now. <<include "brawlii">>

Briony instantly drops her man, who rolls around on the floor, spluttering for breath. "I'm not," she says, a bit petulantly. Her violet eyes are a bit glazed and unfocused. "I'm just talking—and he was being such a boor! And anyway I didn't break his neck, or punch him into the sky, or drop a house on him, just like Trouble said—" You hush her, and she falls silent sheepishly. Together the two of you work on setting things to rights, and with the superpowered warrior's help, the fight breaks up quickly. You watch her pick up Ayla by the back of her shirt like a dog. <<include "brawlii">>

You conjure up an image of an internal lightning strike, a flash of brilliant white light that momentarily stuns the room into silence. When the light finally fades, your group's opponents are curled up on the floor, whimpering and cowering as they wait for the heavens to strike them down. Briony, Ayla, and Tallys are merely looking at you abashedly. Minutes later, you've calmed down the crowd enough to set things to rights. <<include "brawlii">>

Many villagers gasp, jump, or duck for cover; your bullet leaves a smoking hole in the roof, and many of your team's opponents shriek. Briony's hand flashes up to Gonturan, and Ayla and Tallys whirl, ready for a fight—but when they see you, they relax, looking abashed. Within moments, the fight is broken up and things are set to rights. <<include "brawlii">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "brawliii">><</link>></center>

Tallys explains the situation with the innkeeper and staff watching. "After you… left with your new acquaintance," she begins, sending a withering look at <<c onsname>>, who wilts under her scrutiny, "$onsher friends decided to approach our table and… proposition us. I suppose they assumed it was a package deal." Her voice goes very dry at that. "When we rebuffed them, they began hurling insults and filthy words at us—things I don't care to repeat. We attempted to tell them to leave, to no avail. And then one of them grabbed my arm. I'm not sure who lost their temper first—" "It was me," Ayla says, at the same time that Briony says sheepishly, "I think I threw the first punch." <<c onsname>>, who's still at your side, frowns. "Sounds about right. They've all had a little too much to drink, and Thom in particular's got a big mouth. I'm sorry that that happened." <<c onsshe>> glances back at $onsher group of friends, who are mostly limping towards the front door. "I'll make sure they get home and don't cause any more trouble." It takes some persuading, but eventually the innkeeper is convinced that your group did not start the conflict and that you shouldn't be thrown out on your ears. He allows you to keep your rooms, but warns that any other signs of trouble will mean immediate eviction. Tallys bows until her head is nearly level with her knees: an Elvish gesture of respect that you guess is probably lost on the innkeeper. "Thank you for believing us," she says, sounding sincerely grateful. "I… understand how this must look, so for you to put your prejudices aside and give us the benefit of the doubt is… very noble." She sounds almost surprised. "It was extremely unprofessional of us to engage in any sort of confrontation, drink or no. It will never happen again. I hope we can salvage the reputation of the Shepherds in your town." Briony bows, too, though the gesture is more clumsy than Tallys's. "I'm extremely sorry," she says. "I'll pay for any damage I've caused personally. I'm really very sorry." Ayla grunts and mumbles something like an apology. The innkeeper looks to you and sighs. "As long as there ain't no more trouble," he says. With that, patrons and waitresses bearing platters of food creep into the room again, and soon the place is merry and loud with free-flowing drink once more. It's as if the brawl had never happened. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "brawliv">><</link>></center>

Briony, Ayla, and Tallys spend some time apologizing profusely to you, as well. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I\'m just sorry that I left. It was unprofessional of me, too."' 'imjust6sorry'>><<setbriony +1>><<settallys +3>><<setayla +1>><<setloyal +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I don\'t really blame you. I might have reacted the same way, if I\'d been harassed like that."' 'idont6reallyblameyou'>><<setbriony +3>><<setayla +3>><<settallys +1>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'m not surprised. I should have expected it from you three."' 'imnot6surprised'>><<setayla -3>><<setbriony -3>><<settallys -3>><<setcharisma -2>><<setcompassionate -2>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'You\'re annoyed. <<c onsname>> is long gone, and you are thoroughly... impeded.' 'youreannoyed6onsname'>><<settallys -5>><<setbriony -5>><<setayla -5>><</link>></li> </ul>

"You shouldn't have to watch us for us to stay out of trouble," Tallys says. But she smiles at you and seems pleased by your apology. <<include "brawlv">>

Briony smiles at you. "Still, we should have held our tempers. We're supposed to show that we're better than that. Can't let everyone think we're like Trouble." "Blame the drink," Ayla says, massaging her temples. "Can't believe they gave us wine." "They haven't seen Mages come through here in some time," Tallys guesses. "It wouldn't be the first thing to come to mind. In any case, all seems settled now, so let's forget it and move on." <<include "brawlv">>

Tallys' lip thins. "If that's what you believe," is all she says. <<include "brawlv">>

Tallys' eyes sharpen in rebuke, and Ayla looks disgusted while Briony shakes her head. "You shouldn't have gone off, anyway," Tallys says, her voice dripping acid. "Forget our unprofessionalism—at least we were provoked. You wandered off at first opportunity, chasing tail. And perhaps I'd even understand it if the prize was worthwhile—but even your tastes are low. You'd sacrifice your reputation and this mission for a roll in the hay with a country bumpkin?" She shakes her head. "I'd expect this kind of behavior from Chase, perhaps, but not from you." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Whoa, when did this turn around on <i>me</i>? You\'re the ones who got into a drunken brawl."' 'youreannoyed6onsnamei'>><<setloyal -3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You\'re just jealous."' 'youreannoyed6onsnamei'>><<settallys -3>><<setbriony -3>><<setayla -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Oh, so it\'d be forgivable if my partner met <i>your</i> standards of beauty, but since $onsshe didn\'t, I deserve to be chastised?"' 'youreannoyed6onsnamei'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Maybe you\'re right."' 'youreannoyed6onsnamei'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Tallys just curls her lip. <<include "brawlv">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "brawlvi">><</link>></center>

The four of you take plates of food up to your rooms, deciding to retreat from the public eye for the night. Briony stumbles in the steep staircase and knocks into Ayla, dissolving into a fit of giggles, while Ayla gropes ahead of her tentatively like she's blind. Eventually you get everyone into bed and settled in, even though Briony exclaims that the ceiling looks like it's going to fall on her and Tallys turns green like she's going to be sick. They all wake up with headaches the next morning, as well as stinging knuckles. You eat breakfast in fine form as they glare at you, Ayla complaining that "the sun is too loud." Although the innkeeper looks more cautious, none of them touch the fruit juice again. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "tolockwood">><</link>></center>

You return to your table, carrying the tray of now-tepid food. Briony looks at you like you're her savior, beaming, and Ayla grabs the tray; soon enough you're all able to tuck in, conversing happily. You tell the others about $onsname and Ayla sneers. "You could do better than a roll in the hay with a country bumpkin," she says. <<nobr>><<if $tallyssex is true>> Tallys meets your eye and seems to laugh. "Yes," she says with a secret smile. "You could." <<else>> "Besides," Briony says jokingly, spearing a piece of cheese with her fork, "I'd have to report your absence to Blade, and I wouldn't look forward to speculating with him about where you went." <br><br> "If you said a 'roll in the hay,' he'd ask if <<c firstname>> lost something on a farm," Tallys says. <br><br> You dissolve into a fit of laughter at that, and the night continues to fly by. <</if>><</nobr>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "tablei">><<setbriony +3>><<settallys +3>><<setayla +3>><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<if settings.music is true>><<audio ":playing" fadeoverto 5 0>><</if>><</nobr>>Afterwards, you ascend the steep, narrow staircase up to your rooms on the third landing; your stipends cover two rooms with two beds each, which means that you'll have to share a room with one other person for the night. You pick… <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Tallys.' 'tabletallys'>><<settallys +5>><<set $tallysromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <<if $aylahate is false>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Ayla.</div>' 'tableayla'>><<setayla +5>><<set $aylaromanceflag += 2>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Ayla.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $brionyhate is false>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Briony.</div>' 'tablebriony'>><<setbriony +5>><<set $brionyromanceflag += 1>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Briony.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link 'No one. You\'ll sleep in the stables outside for free because you don\'t want to share a room.' 'noone6youllsleep'>><<setloyal -8>><<if $tallyssex is true>><<set $tallysromanceflag -= 8>><</if>><<if $brionyromanceflag gte 5>><<set $brionyromanceflag -= 5>><</if>><<if $aylaromanceflag gte 5>><<set $aylaromanceflag -= 5>><</if>><<setbriony -1>><<settallys -1>><<setayla -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Tallys smiles at you as Ayla and Briony herd into their room next door. "A wise choice. Either of the other two would have kept you up all night with their talking." You take turns using the small bathroom before Tallys comes out of her bath, toweling her short hair dry. She slides into her bed and grimaces. "Do you ever notice how soft the beds in the compound are? Shery's outdone herself—sleeping in inns used to be a luxury, but now it just makes me miss home." It's the first time you've ever heard her refer to Haven as her home. <<nobr>><<if $tallyssex is true>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "tallystablesmile">><</link>></center> <<else>> <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Any bed feels nice, with the places I\'ve slept in."' 'anybed6feels'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I never noticed the quality of the beds, honestly."' 'inever6noticedquality'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Eh, I\'ve slept in better."' 'ehive6slept'>><<settallys -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"So it\'s \'home\' now, is it?"' 'soits6home'>><<set $tallysharden += 1>><</link>></li> </ul> <</if>><</nobr>>

Tallys smiles at you as you get ready for bed. "Going to sleep over there?" she asks, her eyes twinkling. "There's room over here, if you want it." Her meaning is unmistakable: if you choose to sleep in Tallys' bed, you're not going to be getting much sleep at all. <ul class="choices"> <<link '<div class="flirt-item">Sleep in Tallys\' bed. </div>' 'sleepin6tallysbed'>><<set $tallysromanceflag += 5>><<settallys +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Sleep in your own bed.' 'sleepin6yourownbed'>><<set $tallysromanceflag -= 5>><</link>></li> </ul>

It's the first time you've had any privacy together since the mission started, and you're not about to pass that up. Her eyes glint, and she opens the blanket in wordless invitation. You slide in, and instantly Tallys' lips meet yours in a deep and unhurried kiss; she tugs your head down as she sinks into the pillows, her tongue slowly and luxuriously coaxing yours. She takes her time, running her cool hands over your body the way water might slip over every inch of your skin. Then she slips a hand under your shirt, and you gasp at the thrill of the contact. Tallys chuckles softly into your ear, nipping the soft junction of your jaw in reprimand. "Careful," she whispers, her breath tickling your neck. "You have to be quiet, or they're going to hear next door…" She pulls your shirt off, then slides down, her lips at your neck, then your chest, then your stomach… You stifle a groan and arch into pleasure and sensation, desperately trying not to lose yourself and failing for the rest of the night. <<include "nextmorninglockwood">>

Tallys nods, her expression now schooled into one of impassive cool. She flips her covers over herself. "Of course; I understand. Good night." She goes to sleep, her breathing light and even. At one point you hear her get up in the night, only to return over an hour later, her lithe figure silvered by the moonlight streaming in from the window. She does not spare you a second glance and heads back to her own bed, alone. <<include "nextmorninglockwood">>

Tallys nods slowly. "I suppose that makes sense," she says. "It can be better than sleeping on the road, with rocks digging into your back—though, truth be told, I still love being under the stars, even if the bedding is less comfortable." "Why don't you put a skylight into your room?" you ask her. Tallys laughs. "There are many stories above it," she reminds you. "But if there was a way to bore a hole into all the flights of Archmage Tangriel's tower, perhaps I would." <<include "youlay6in">>

"Well, take note when we get back," Tallys says. "I'm sure it will make Shery happy to receive a compliment." <<include "youlay6in">>

Tallys doesn't roll her eyes, but she would if she was the type of person to do so. "That wasn't exactly my point," she says dryly. "But, as you say. I'm sure you have slept in better." Awkward silence pervades after that. <<include "youlay6in">>

She's silent for a moment, as if she's surprised that that's what she said. Then she concedes: "Yes, I suppose it is." <<include "youlay6in">>

You lay in silence for a while, contemplating the black-and-silver moonlit ceiling. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Do you feel strange, having me as team leader when you\'re actually Third-in-Command?"' 'doyou6feelstrange'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Do you really think this Lady Lavinet is going to be unkind to us?"' 'doyou6reallythink'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"These villagers weren\'t as bad as I was expecting."' 'thesevillagers6werent'>><<set $tallysharden += 1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Tallys is still and quiet for a while. "To tell you the truth, no," she admits finally, her voice soft. "If we're being completely honest, I'm relieved that you're here to take the helm in a matter I find so… distasteful. And, truth be told, I've long since wondered if you should be Third-in-Command, not me." You look at her. "What do you mean?" "Well, think about it," Tallys says. "I was only made Third due to seniority and competence; I outlived the few recruits who first joined the Order before you, and I was competent enough that Blade and Trouble could rely on me. But then you came along—and I believe you are a superior candidate for the position. Look at what you've accomplished; look at the reputation you've earned. I'd have no trouble at all passing the power to you, if the situation demanded it." She shrugs. "But it hasn't. At least not yet, anyway." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I wouldn\'t want that much responsibility, anyway."' 'iwouldnt6want'>><<setloyal -5>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I think you undermine yourself. You\'re a brilliant Third."' 'ithink6youundermine'>><<settallys +1>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Maybe you\'re right. Maybe I am the better fit."' 'maybeyoure6righttallys'>><<setcunning +3>><<settallys -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"We\'ll see what happens in the future."' 'wellsee6whathappens'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Tallys smiles ironically at you. "Sadly, you opened yourself up to the possibility the day you joined the Order," she says. "A Shepherd does not get to pick and choose how much responsibility $she<<if $plural is true>>take<<else>>takes<</if>> on. It's simply given to $her, and $she either <<if $plural is true>>rise<<else>>rises<</if>> to the call or <<if $plural is true>>leave<<else>>leaves<</if>>." Then she shrugs. "But this is all theoretical. Who knows what the future holds?" That's all she has to say about that. <<include "youfall6silent">>

Tallys snorts. "Thank you," she says. "That's kind, if inaccurate. I believe I'm perfectly adequate, but not excellent. But—duty calls, and we don't know what the future will bring. We'll see." That's all she has to say about that. <<include "youfall6silent">>

Tallys makes a neutral sound, but she seems to have nothing more to say to that. <<include "youfall6silent">>

Tallys makes a sonorous sound. "Indeed." <<include "youfall6silent">>

"I don't think, I know," Tallys says, her mouth twisted in a way that indicates she finds this topic unpleasant. "Think about it, <<c firstname>>. She is part of a system specifically designed to oppress the Diminished. The majority of the Norm nobility were not nobility two hundred years ago: their ancestors allied with the first Autarch during the Castigation, and in return, he gifted them with land, titles, wealth, and power. Most of them were peasants before that, merchants and soldiers. Now their status is built on the bodies of thousands of Diminished; you think it behooves them to see us as anything other than chattel? And Diminished with free use of their powers—in other words, us—well. We threaten the entire power balance that they rely on." <ul class="choices"> <<if $heritage is "Norm">><<link '<div class="heritage-item">"Norms aren\'t as heartless as you say, Tallys. My parents were Norms, and they were the kindest people I knew. They took me in and loved me."</div>' 'normsarent6as'>><<set $tallysharden += 1>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">"Norms aren\'t as heartless as you say, Tallys. My parents were Norms, and they were the kindest people I knew. They took me in and loved me."</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link '"What you say makes sense."' 'whatyou6saymakessense'>><<settallys +1>><<set $tallysharden -= 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I think you\'re wrong. The way she wrote to us seemed sincere. I think this will be different."' 'ithink6yourewrongshe'>><<settallys -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Stay neutral. "I don\'t know enough about this topic to say definitively, either way."' 'stayneutral6idont'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Tallys is silent for a moment. "I do not say that Norms are incapable of—kindness, or love," she says. "Otherwise I would not be friends with Trouble, or Shery, or even Chase or Riel. But the nobility… that's a different matter altogether." That's all she has to say about that. <<include "youfall6silent">>

She nods. "Thank you. I speak from long and painful experience." <<include "youfall6silent">>

Tallys snorts and turns away. "I wish I shared your optimism, <<c firstname>>," she say softly. "Though many in my circles would call it naivety, or ignorance. We will see who is right, when we arrive to Lockwood. But I pray that you won't have your heart broken." <<include "youfall6silent">>

Tallys nods. "You'll see when we get to Lockwood," is all she says. <<include "youfall6silent">>

Tallys is silent for a moment. "Yes, I suppose that's true," she concedes after a while. "I was expecting… pitchforks and angry mobs. We got some stares, but that's to be expected." "Maybe the Shepherds are more respected than we think," you say. She snorts. "Or maybe they simply didn't know what to make of us, or they were too drunk and merry to bother," Tallys says. Then she shrugs. "Still, it was a pleasant surprise. Let's hope we receive a similar or better reception in Lockwood—though I'm not going to hold my breath." <<include "youfall6silent">>

You fall silent, and after a while Tallys' breathing evens out to a deep, steady tempo. You fall asleep and spend the rest of the night swimming through a black and dreamless sea. <<include "nextmorninglockwood">>

She nods perfunctorily as Tallys and Briony enter their room next door. "All right. I promise not to snore too much." You take turns using the small bathroom before Ayla comes out of her bath, fresh and steaming, and hops into her bed wearing nothing but her breast-band and underwear. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Pretend not to notice anything.' 'pretendnot6tonotice'>><<setayla +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Mock-widen your eyes. "Oh, my. I didn\'t know we\'d reached that point in our relationship."' 'mockwidenyour6eyes'>><<setayla +1>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Look away with a blush, trying not to stare at her lean muscles.' 'lookaway6withblush'>><<set $aylaromanceflag += 2>><<setayla +1>><</link>></li> <<if $ace is false and $aroace is false>><li><<link 'Stare boldly. "I always thought I\'d get to see you naked, but not like this." <b>[FLIRT]</b>' 'stareboldly6ialways'>><<set $aylaromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link 'Avert your eyes. "<<c god>>! Aren\'t you going to put something else on?!"' 'avertyour6eyes'>><<setayla -3>><<set $aylaromanceflag -= 1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Ayla pulls the covers all the way to her chin, looking comfortable and at peace. <<include "youresilent6for">>

Ayla rolls her eyes. "Sorry, but you're not special," she says sardonically. "This is how I always sleep." "You didn't strip down like that on the road." "Because it's the middle of winter outside?" She snorts. "But indoors, this is how I sleep. You should consider yourself lucky: in Jalis, most of us sleep totally naked. You Easterners are weird about nudity." She shakes her head and throws the covers over herself, almost all the way to her head. <<include "youresilent6for">>

Ayla notices your reaction and seems embarrassed, herself. "Oh," she says gruffly, looking away. "I didn't think… sorry." She quickly gets into bed and covers herself with the blanket, all the way to the top of her head. "In Jalis, most of us sleep, uh, naked. It's not... I'm not doing anything special, is what I'm saying. This is how I always sleep." "Right," you choke out, keeping your eyes fixed anywhere but her. "Makes sense." Ayla snorts; you can't tell if the look on her face is amusement or awkwardness. <<include "youresilent6for">>

Ayla rolls her eyes, unimpressed by your comment. "I get naked at a moment's notice," she answers sardonically. "Not just for canoodling. Wore barely a stitch in Jalis if I had enough water to not lose it all to the sun. You Easterners are so funny about nudity." She flings her covers over herself so that she's covered nearly to her head. <<include "youresilent6for">>

Ayla sends you a look of contempt. "What else do you want me to wear?" she asks sardonically. "My evening gown? This is how I sleep." You stare at her. "You never did when we were outside, camping." "Because it's the middle of bloody winter! But in here's warm. This really going to be a problem for you?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Close your eyes. If you just don\'t look at her, you can just pretend she\'s not half-naked.' 'closeyour6eyes'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Ask her to put some clothes on.' 'askher6toputonclothes'>><<setayla -3>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Tell her you\'re fine with it.' 'tellher6yourefine'>><<setayla +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Ayla rolls her eyes. "Prude." She flings her covers up so that they're covering her nearly to her head. "There, now you can't complain." <<include "youresilent6for">>

Ayla rolls her eyes, but she flings aside her covers and tramps over to her bag, putting on a pair of loose slacks and a shirt without saying a word. She treads back to bed, throws you a sardonic look, and gets back in again. <<include "youresilent6for">>

"I was just surprised," you explain. Ayla grunts. "If you say so." She gets under her covers and flings them up to her chin. <<include "youresilent6for">>

You're silent for a while, laying there in the dark. Finally Ayla says: "So… can I ask you something?" It's not really a question, so you don't need to give an answer. Ayla continues: "Sometimes, on the road… I notice you talk in your sleep. And sometimes you wake up in a sweat, like you had a bad nightmare. That new?" She pauses. "Is it because of Quiial?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I\'ve had nightmares since I was thirteen years old."' 'ivehad6nightmaressince'>><<setayla +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I have nightmares occasionally, like any person, but it\'s not nearly as bad as it used to be."' 'ihave6nightmaresoccasionally'>><<setayla +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I don\'t remember any of that."' 'idont6rememberany'>><</link>></li> <<if $traumatized gte 1>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"It\'s gotten worse since Quiial, yes."</div>' 'itsgotten6worsesince'>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">"It\'s gotten worse since Quiial, yes."</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link '"I don\'t want to talk about this."' 'idont6wanttotalkaboutthis'>><<setayla -3>><</link>></li> </ul>

Ayla nods, blinking slowly. "Sorry to hear that," she says. "Do… do you have any ways to cope with them? Like things you can do to make them better?" <<include "youthink6onit">>

Ayla glances at you in surprise. "Yeah? What do you think changed?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I found a cause to fight for. I don\'t care about the things that used to haunt me."' 'aylanods6slowly'>><<setloyal +1>><<setcourage +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I found a family that makes me feel safe."' 'aylanods6slowly'>><<setloyal +5>><<setcompassionate +1>><<set $aylaharden += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I finally have the power to fight back against my demons."' 'aylanods6slowly'>><<setcourage +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'m not afraid of so many things anymore. Staring death down multiple times will do that."' 'aylanods6slowly'>><<setcourage +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'m more confident now, especially now that I can use my powers."' 'aylanods6slowly'>><<setcourage +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I just... got older. It seems natural."' 'aylanods6slowly'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I don\'t know, honestly."' 'aylanods6slowly'>><<setintelligence -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Ayla nods slowly. "Makes sense. And when you do have nightmares, do you… have a way to cope with them? Like a way to calm yourself down?" <<include "youthink6onit">>

Ayla casts you a skeptical glance. "Really? Seems weird." She pauses for a moment. "But in the past, when you did have them… did you ever have any way to cope? Like a way to calm yourself down?" <<include "youthink6onit">>

She frowns. "Yeah? I'm sorry to hear that. Sometimes it feels like the bastard's still out there, infecting our dreams, lurking over us while we sleep." She grimaces. "Do you have any way to… cope? Like calm yourself down, or anything?" <<include "youthink6onit">>

"Oh." She falls silent. "Fine, then. Good night." She turns over onto her side, a sharp-edged shape in the darkness—but from the pattern of her breathing, you can tell she doesn't fall asleep for a long, long time. The night creeps by in uneasy silence. <<include "nextmorninglockwood">>

You think on it. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Not really, no."' 'noreally6noayla'>><<setintelligence -1>><<setcharisma -1>><<setayla -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I meditate before I fall asleep. It helps clear my mind."' 'imeditate6before'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I go for long walks afterward, outside."' 'igo6forlong'>><<setayla +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I visualize positive things, things that make me happy."' 'ivisualize6positive'>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I exercise and tire myself out so much that I sleep soundly."' 'iexercise6andtire'>><<setayla +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I smoke a stick of charch. It helps calm my nerves."' 'ismoke6astick'>><<set $charch to true>><</link>></li> </ul>

Ayla's silent for a moment. "That doesn't seem… great." <<include "youglance6atayla">>

Ayla frowns. "Really? Seems like a lot of… effort." <<include "youglance6atayla">>

She nods slowly. "That makes sense. The cold air clears your head." <<include "youglance6atayla">>

Ayla's brow furrows. "Like… candy, or something?" You stare at her. "More like… fun memories that make me smile, or little daydreams, or thinking of people I care about…" She's silent for a while. "I see." <<include "youglance6atayla">>

She grins. "I like the sound of that." <<include "youglance6atayla">>

Ayla wrinkles her nose. "What if you run out of charch, though? Aren't you dependent on it?" "No. Charch is everywhere." "Well, what if you hate the taste?" <<include "youglance6atayla">>

You glance at her. "Why are you asking?" For a long moment, Ayla doesn't answer. "I have nightmares, too," she begins slowly. "There's… a lot of rough stuff that happened in my life. Once I was captured by some slavers, tied up—ready to get sold to some rich warlord. They wanted to cut off my hands, since I'd been stealing, but then they decided I'd need them if I was going to be a good slave." She falls silent again. "I got away, obviously, but I have a lot of nightmares about that. It got worse after Quiial, and then when we saw the slaves in the arena…" She trails off. "I'm just glad it was you who got sent in, not me." <ul class="choices"> <<if $compassionate gte 55 and $ayla gte 55 and $charisma gte 40>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Reach over and touch her arm. "I\'m glad you told me. Thank you."</div>' 'reachover6andtouch'>><<set $aylaromanceflag += 1>><<setayla +2>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Reach over and touch her arm. "I\'m glad you told me. Thank you."</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $compassionate gte 55>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Look at her. "I\'m here whenever you need me. If you can\'t sleep, or just want to talk..."</div>' 'imhere6wheneveryouneedme'>><<setayla +3>><<set $aylaromanceflag += 1>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Look at her. "I\'m here whenever you need me. If you can\'t sleep, or just want to talk..."</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link 'Stare at her. "Why didn\'t you tell Blade and Riel about this, before we went to the arena? They could have chosen someone else for the mission."' 'stare6ataylawhy'>><<setayla -3>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Cover your mouth to hide a yawn. "Mm-hm. Interesting."' 'coveryour6mouthto'>><<setayla -30>><<setintelligence -3>><<setcharisma -8>><<setcompassionate -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

She looks away and grumbles something—but she seems pleased by your response. You lay in silence for a while before you finally drift off to sleep. This time, it seems like you nor Ayla have any nightmares. <<include "nextmorninglockwood">>

"You can even crawl into my bed, if you want." Ayla smiles at you crookedly. "…You really mean it?" You nod. "Of course I do." She laughs a little, but you can't read her expression in the darkness. "Thanks, <<c firstname>>," she whispers. "That's… really nice of you. I don't know if I've met someone as nice. And—the same to you, you know. If you ever need to talk to someone—I know I'm not <i>great</i> at talking, but… I'll be here." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Thanks, Ayla. I appreciate it."' 'thanksayla6iappreciate'>><<setayla +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Does that mean you\'re planning on sticking around?"' 'shessilent6forawhile'>><<set $aylaharden += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I think you\'re great at talking."' 'ithink6youregreatattalking'>><</link>></li> </ul>

She smiles. <<include "youdont6speakaylalong">>

She's silent for a while. "I guess so," she allows finally. "For now." <<include "youdont6speakaylalong">>

She laughs. "That's kind." <<include "youdont6speakaylalong">>

You don't speak for a long time. Finally Ayla says: "Thanks for being my friend. I think I'll sleep better tonight." You smile back. "I think I will, too." And you do. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "nextmorninglockwoodi">><</link>></center>

Ayla's face shutters. "I did my job, didn't I?" she asks roughly. "I didn't let it affect the mission—and it's none of their business, anyway." She turns away. "Forget it." The rest of the night passes in awkward silence. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "nextmorninglockwoodi">><</link>></center>

Ayla's eyes sharpen, and she says harshly, "Boring you, am I? Never mind—just forget it!" She turns over on her side, clearly angry, and the rest of the night passes in awkward silence. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "nextmorninglockwoodi">><</link>></center>

She beams at you. "Come on, then, roomie," she says brightly, shouldering her way into the room as Tallys and Ayla enter theirs next door. "First one in calls first bath!" You take turns using the small bathroom before Briony hops into her bed, smelling of almond soap and wearing a loose nightshirt that practically reaches her knees. She unwinds her hair from its usual ponytail and sets her red ribbon gingerly on the bedside table. Gonturan, she props up on her side of the bed. You glance at her. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Has Gonturan said anything lately?"' 'hasgonturan6said'>><<setintelligence +1>><<setbriony +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You\'d better not sleep in."' 'youdbetter6notsleep'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You\'re going to sleep in that bed?" <b>[FLIRT]</b>' 'youregoing6tosleepinbed'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Briony runs her hand fondly along the hilt of the sword, though the pommelstone remains inert and dull. "No, not lately—she only really reacts when something crazy is happening, it seems. I guess none of this really counts." "Not even when you joined the Shepherds?" She shakes her head. "Not really. There was a feeling of—of rightness, like it was the right thing to do. But I'm not sure if that was more her or me." You're both quiet for a while, lying in the dark after you blow out the lamp on your bedside table. <<include "brionytalklockwood">>

<ul class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("howareyou6settlingin")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"How are you settling in so far? Do you like the Order?"</div>' 'howareyou6settlingin'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("areyou6makingfriends")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Are you making friends?"</div>' 'areyou6makingfriends'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("anyromantic6prospects")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Any romantic prospects?"</div>' 'anyromantic6prospects'>><<if $brionyromanceflag gte 5>><<set $brionyromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("doyoumiss6gladiatorlife")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Do you miss the gladiator life?"</div>' 'doyoumiss6gladiatorlife'>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link 'You fall silent at last.' 'youfallsilent6atlast'>><</link>></li> </ul>

"I love it," Briony is quick to say. She smiles. "Everyone's so kind, and so interesting. I feel like I fit right in—and I love demon-work! Investigating demons, I mean, and the missions." She shakes her head. "I'm lucky you let me join. I can't imagine myself anywhere else, now." <<include "brionytalklockwood">>

She nods. "Lots. I like the young recruits, and everyone else has been very sweet in helping me settle in. Shery's so lovely, and Chase and Trouble always make me laugh, though sometimes they make me cry, too; they never mean it, though, so it's easy to forgive them, even if I can tell the tears sort of unnerve them. And Blade is very gentle, deep down, very thoughtful; I can't always tell what he's thinking, but first and foremost I know he's kind. Halek, too: he's very sleepy and sarcastic, but I can tell deep down he cares. Red's been teaching me the finer parts of magic, or re-teaching me, I suppose, when he has the time, and we've been reading lots of books together; and Riel's so clever, even though I'm sure he hates when I'm around because I break all of his things. Ayla's strong and loyal—I'm glad she's there to watch my back—and Tallys…" She falters for the first time. "Well, I like Tallys. I'm not so sure she likes me—" "Why do you think that?" She smiles sheepishly. "I'm a bit awkward around her. I think she intimidates me—she's so cool and composed, and elegant, and hard-to-read—and I try too hard to impress her. The other day I tried to talk to her about Elvish things, and I know she doesn't consider me a true Elf. Which is true. Aside from the blood, the Elves are all about history, and I don't really have much of that." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"She\'ll warm up to you. It takes some time; it did for me."' 'shellwarm6upto'>><</link>></li> <<if $heritage is "Elf">><<link '<div class="heritage-item">"She\'d better consider you an Elf. I have the blood, too, and I\'d be upset if she thought less of me because I\'m not a \'full Elf.\'"</div>' 'shedbetter6considerelf'>><</link>><<setbriony +1>><</if>> <li><<link '"Tallys is not the easiest person to get along with. You might as well give up now."' 'tallysnoteasy6'>><<setbriony -1>><<settallys -4>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I can tell Tallys likes you. She\'s not nearly as intimidating as she seems. Just try to relax around her."' 'tallyseasy6'>><<setbriony +1>><<settallys +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"At least you have me."' 'atleast6youhaveme'>><</link>></li> </ul>

She nods slowly. "I hope so. I'd like it if I could be close friends with everybody. But, well, life doesn't always work that way." You fall silent for a while, gazing up at the ceiling. <<include "brionytalklockwood">>

"I'm sure she does," Briony says hastily. "I'm sure it's all just in my imagination." You fall silent for a while, gazing thoughtfully up at the ceiling. <<include "brionytalklockwood">>

Briony smiles sidelong at you. "Of course," she says. "What do I care about others when I have you in my corner?" You fall silent for a while, gazing thoughtfully up at the ceiling. <<include "brionytalklockwood">>

Briony looks at you, seeming shocked that you would badmouth Tallys. "That's not what I meant," she says quickly. "She doesn't owe me anything—I'm the newcomer, after all—and, well, I like her. I just wasn't sure how she felt about me, that's all." She lapses into an awkward silence, clearly unsure of what to say next. <<include "brionytalklockwood">>

Briony visibly relaxes. "You think so? Of course—you're right. I just really want to impress her for some reason!" You fall silent for a while, gazing thoughtfully up at the ceiling. <<include "brionytalklockwood">>

<<nobr>><<if $brionyromanceflag gte 5>> You sense Briony go still. "Why do you ask?" she asks after a moment, her voice forced casual but her demeanor careful. <br><br> You play it casual. "Just curious." <br><br> Briony thinks on that for a moment. "Well," she says slowly, "there's—I thought—maybe—well—!" She glances at the amused expression on your face and covers her own. "Oh, never mind!" <<else>> She shakes her head. "Not really," she says, but it seems like there's more to it than that. <</if>><</nobr>> After a moment of silence, she finally says: "I—I think I'd <i>want</i> to fall in love. I'd want to be with someone. But… sometimes it feels like my heart is blocked up." You glance at her. "Blocked up?" Briony chews her lip. "Blocked up, or… maybe missing a part of it? I don't know." She shakes her head. "Sometimes I feel this… this <i>aching</i> inside me, this longing for something that I can't name. It's this very sad, twisting pain…" Her eyes seem to reflect the moonlight falling in through the window, which lands against your bed like a sterile white glove. "It's like the feeling that sailors have, looking at the sea, missing something or someone… but I don't know what my <i>thing</i> is. It could be for my homeland, for my family, Hael, maybe even my religion." She trails off, and you finally catch her meaning. "Or it could be for a lover." "Someone I've forgotten," Briony says in a whisper. "What if I'm… what if I'm married to someone, or I love them, really deep down, and I just don't remember it? What if I make a terrible mistake, betray them, and then when I remember…" She shakes her head. "The thought terrifies me. That something that could bring me so much happiness could mean something totally different, if and when I get my memories back. It makes everything feel… temporary. I suppose that's what I mean by my heart being blocked up, and empty all at once. I'm… afraid." She trails off after her long monologue, then shoots you a rueful smile. "Anyway, enough about me," she says. <<nobr>> <<romancecalc>> <<if $aro is false and $aroace is false>> "Are <i>you</i> interested in anyone?" <<include "romancecalc6choice">> <<else>> "Is there anything else on your mind?" <<include "brionytalklockwood">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Briony smiles at your non-response and changes the subject, seeming perfectly at ease. You talk for a while longer until her voice wanes into sleepy silence. <<include "brionytalklockwood">>

She laughs, seemingly delighted to hear your answer. "Oh, the two of you would be so cute together," she says excitedly. "I definitely notice that he smiles more and seems to relax a bit when you're around. But sometimes he seems more tense, too. Oh, but how would you ever get him to admit to it? He's so stuffed up and serious, I think he'd have a heart attack if he ever had to do something romantic, like kiss!" <<include "brionyromancetalk">>

You talk animatedly on the subject for a while; Briony promises not to say a word to anyone, but her eyes glint brightly with excitement and mischief. <<include "brionytalklockwood">>

Briony's eyes light up. "I thought you two seemed close!" she says excitedly. "Oh, you'd be so <i>amazing</i> together—you're practically attached at the hip already anyway—but what are you going to do? He's so <i>dense</i>—I think you could spell it out for him and say 'I love you' and he'd think you were talking about being friends still…" <<include "brionyromancetalk">>

Briony gasps slightly, the sound dramatic in the quiet of your room. "<i>Really</i>? Have you—have you said anything to her? The two of you act so normally that I wouldn't have guessed—" <<nobr>><<if $tallyssex is true>> "You can't tell anybody," you caution, "but we've been involved… physically. No strings attached or any romantic relationship or anything like that." <br><br> Briony's mouth makes that classic round 'o'. "I... see," she says after a moment, clearly striving to give a normal reaction, although she's wrapped her blanket around her head out of sheer excitement. "I've heard of that—you're friends who also happen to get intimate without love being involved, right? Mountain Jackal told me the word for that. Erm—playmates? Pillow friends? Taxation without representation?" <br><br> She suddenly laughs at herself, and for a few moments you talk in amused whispers. <br><br> Then Briony says: "And you're fine with this arrangement? Just being friends with no commitment?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"That works great for me. I\'m not looking for anything else."' 'brionynod'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"That\'s the only way I want it. Tallys is attractive, but I wouldn\'t want anything more with her."' 'thats6onlywayiwanttallysattractive'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I have feelings for her, but I\'m content with this until she wants something more."' 'ihavefeelings6forhercontent'>><<set $tallysromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I have strong feelings for her, and it\'s killing me not to tell her."' 'ihavestrong6feelingsherkillingme'>><<set $tallysromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I want something more. Eventually."' 'iwantsomething6moreeventually'>><<set $tallysromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> </ul> <<else>> You shake your head. "I haven't told her. I hope it's not too late." <br><br> Briony looks at you earnestly. "It's never too late!" But she doesn't sound so sure. <<include "brionytalklockwood">> <</if>><</nobr>>

"We're better as friends," you say. <<include "brionynod">>

Briony nods slowly. "I hope she feels the same way," she says. "Well, I'm sure she'd tell you if she didn't." <<include "brionyromancetalk">>

Briony makes soft, sympathetic noises. "I'm sure it will all work out," she says, reaching across the space between your beds to pat your arm. "For all you know, she may be harboring the same feelings herself. Give it time and wait and see." <<include "brionyromancetalk">>

Briony makes soft, sympathetic noises. "Poor thing," she says, reaching across the space between your beds to pat your arm. "I think it will all work out. If you tell her and she feels the same way, you'll both be happy. If she doesn't, at least you'll know and be able to move on. But I'm sure she's half in love with you, too! You're wonderful, so why wouldn't she be?" <<include "brionyromancetalk">>

Briony grimaces. "You'll have to tell her at some point," she says softly. You sigh. "I know." <<include "brionytalklockwood">>

Briony squeals suddenly. "Really? I <i>knew</i> it! Well, I didn't know it, but—" <<nobr>><<if $sheryromanceflag gte 10>> She rolls around on her bed suddenly. "Shery always said—<i>oh</i>!" She suddenly claps a hand over her mouth. "…Never mind!" <br><br> You stare at her. "Shery said what?" <br><br> "Nothing! Never mind, I didn't say a word!" <br><br> "Briony, tell me!" <br><br> You talk animatedly for a while, laughing and teasing each other, but Briony manages to seal her mouth shut and stays mum, shaking her head wildly. <<include "brionytalklockwood">> <<else>> She grins at you. "That's so <i>cute!</i> Are you ever planning on telling her?" <br><br> <<include "brionyromancetalk">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Briony gasps, the sound loud and dramatic in the dark quiet of your room. "<i>Riel?</i> Oh, good luck—he's awfully picky and uptight, but now that I think about it, I'm sure he'd make a wonderful partner. He's so—<i>competent</i>—you could leave everything well in hand with him—and he does that body language mind-reading thing, so he'd never tread all over your feelings like some others... Have you told him, what captured your attention about him? Tell me everything!" <<include "brionyromancetalk">>

<<nobr>><<if $chasesex is true>> She laughs. "Well, <i>that's</i> no surprise, you two are always making lovey-dovey eyes at each other! Are you two-ing, or…?" <br><br> You explain the situation and how you and Chase are already physically-involved. Briony casts you a sudden sympathetic look. "But do you want it to be more, or is how you're doing it all right? Just being friends who also happen to—er—get intimate?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I\'m happy with the situation; it\'s exactly what we agreed on."' 'chasebriony'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'m good with the situation. Chase is extraordinarily gifted, but I wouldn\'t want to pursue it further than we already have."' 'chasebriony'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I have feelings for him, but I\'m too scared to say so."' 'ihave6feelingsforchase'>><<setcourage -1>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I have feelings for him, and I\'m waiting until the relationship blossoms into something else."' 'brionychasetalk'>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I want something more eventually, but I\'m content to wait for now."' 'brionychasetalk'>><</link>></li> </ul> <<else>> Briony gawks at you. "<i>Really?</i> Well, I know he's a charmer, and an incorrigible flirt, but isn't he always—a rascal? Chase? Are you worried that he's going to break your heart?" <ul class="choices"> <<if $chase gte 70 or $chaseromanceflag gte 10>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Deep down, he\'s not like that. It\'s a facade he puts on to prevent people from getting too close."</div>' 'deepdown6hesnotlikethat'>><<setchase +1>><<setbriony +1>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">"Deep down, he\'s not like that. It\'s a facade he puts on to prevent people from getting too close."</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link '"Even if he does, I welcome it. To have loved and to have lost is better than never loving anyone at all."' 'evenif6hedoesiwelcome'>><<setcourage +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I don\'t know what I feel."' 'idont6know'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"If he does, I\'ll kill him."' 'ifhe6does'>><<setintelligence -1>><</link>></li> </ul> <</if>><</nobr>>

Briony nods slowly, processing this. "I see… That's true, I suppose Chase doesn't exactly present as 'long-term relationship material,' by his own words. And, well, it sounds like you've both agreed on it, and are capable of sticking to it! I admire that: I think I'd get myself mixed up in that arrangement and then fall hopelessly in love and get my heart broken!" She pauses for a moment. "Is he as good as he brags, or is that all just ego?" <<include "brionyromancetalk">>

Briony makes soft, sympathetic noises, reaching over the gap between your beds to pat your arm. "It'll all work for the best, <<c firstname>>," she says encouragingly. "You're amazing, and if Chase doesn't see that, he's going to regret it—literally. Do you want me to talk to him?" "God, no." "Fair, but I mean it: I think if you wait and see, things will be great! And Chase isn't an idiot, as much as he acts like it—he'd never do anything to hurt your feelings, I'm sure of it!" She continues to talk to you encouragingly for some time, until you feel like you should change the subject. <<include "brionytalklockwood">>

Briony nods slowly. "I see… that makes sense. I don't see how he could do <i>that</i> with you without falling hopelessly head over heels for you along the way. But how would you know if he started feeling differently? He's so unreadable in that smiling way of his—" <<include "brionyromancetalk">>

Briony blinks at you, looking impressed. "You know him so well! I suppose I never thought of it that way—he does seem to deflect a lot." She smiles at you suddenly. "I think being with you would be very good for him. But how do you plan on actually getting him to <i>talk</i> about it? He's so slippery, and..." <<include "brionyromancetalk">>

Briony laughs softly. "That's very wise," she says. "And brave. I don't know if I could ever open up my heart like that, knowing I might get hurt. But, I suppose, you also can't control it so easily, either. But if he does ever hurt you, you just tell me and I'll wallop him sore, got it?" <<include "brionyromancetalk">>

Briony gives you a sympathetic look. "I can imagine," she says softly. "I've never been in love—I don't think, anyway—but I imagine it can be… painful. And scary." Then she gives you a bright, sweet smile. "But no matter what happens, it'll all be okay. You have all of us to take care of you. And I'll kill Chase for you, if you want." <<include "brionyromancetalk">>

Briony bursts into a fit of giggles. "And I'll be right behind you, hear? He'd better treat you as you deserve to be treated!" <<include "brionyromancetalk">>

Briony beams, leaning over to jostle your shoulder. "<<c firstname>>! Oh, that's so <i>cute</i>! <<nobr>><<if $redrelationship is "ex">> And aren't you two former sweethearts, as well? <</if>> <<if $redromanceflag gte 10>> I can absolutely see it, he gets all moony whenever you walk into a room! <<else>> When did it start? Has he said anything to make you think he's interested as well? <</if>><</nobr>> Oh, tell me everything!" <<include "brionyromancetalk">>

Briony squeals suddenly, rolling around in her bed with excitement. "Really? Oh, I can tell that she gets all soft around you, too, a little gentler and sometimes shyer... When did it start? Are you planning on telling her? Tell me everything!" <<include "brionyromancetalk">>

There's a very long pause as Briony processes that. "The—noblewoman, the one you were protecting when you first met the Shepherds?" she asks in an incredulous whisper. "Isn't she <i>married</i>?" "Not anymore," you tell her. "And what's more, we slept together." She shrieks, sitting up bolt-right in her bed. "<i>What?</i>! Tell me everything!" You explain, and Briony listens in stunned silence, hugging her pillow to her chest. When you're done, she gasps as if you'd ended the story in a murder. "What do you mean, she just left? That's the end of it? You're not going to—court each other?" You shake your head. "Our positions are too different, and it's not what she wants. It'd ruin her to be seen with a Diminished lover, especially right after her husband was executed <i>by the Shepherds</i>. I have to respect that." Briony makes a frustrated noise. "That can't just be the end of it!" she exclaims. "I won't allow it! I'll—I'll talk to her, or something!" "Don't you dare." "All right, so I won't talk to her, but… she's clearly fallen in love with you! She wouldn't have sneaked to the infirmary otherwise! Let's think on what we can do…" <<include "brionyromancetalk">>

Briony makes an understanding noise. "That makes sense. And don't you think the ratio of attractive people in the Order is unusually high? What's with that, anyway? Is it a requirement, or something?" You talk animatedly on this subject for a while longer, until Briony's voice dwindles into sleepy silence. <<include "brionytalklockwood">>

Briony nods slowly. "That makes sense—our whole lives can't be consumed by the Order, after all. It'd be smart to pursue relationships outside of it—what does Trouble say? Don't buy your sugar where you buy your bread?" You talk for a while longer until her voice dwindles down into contented silence. <<include "brionytalklockwood">>

Briony senses your reservation and changes the subject, but she looks a bit sad and awkward now, as if she's aware that you're withholding from her and doesn't know if she should address it or not. You talk for a while longer until her voice dwindles into subdued silence. <<include "brionytalklockwood">>

Briony blinks. "Oh, really? I never knew that! I'm sorry for asking, then." She changes the topic and talks easily about other things for a while, until her voice dwindles down into contented silence. <<include "brionytalklockwood">>

Briony thinks about it for a moment. "No," she says after a moment, definitively. "Although it was somewhat fun to wake up and do battle every day—you can't imagine the adrenaline, the thrill of the fight once you're <i>in</i> it—I chafed at being a captive. At the way Tovrik could say anything he wanted to me, and didn't have to fear my fist in his face. It wasn't even like I had anywhere I wanted to go, anywhere I needed to be, like many of the others... I just hated that someone else was deciding my fate for me. It drove me a bit mad, at times. I tried to hold it together, but there were times when I felt like a feral animal trapped in a cage... It was all I could do to not gnaw at the bars. Sometimes it <i>would</i> get to me, and that..." Her voice falters for a moment. "That would be scary. It was a bad time for everyone then: me included." You watch her for a moment. <<nobr>><<if $intelligence gte 50>>"It seems like there was a reason why a lot of them left you to your own devices," you say after a moment, probing cautiously. "The slavers and the other gladiators alike. You'd think that, with you being champion, some of them would have been motivated to sabotage you behind the scenes. But it doesn't seem like they did." <br><br> Briony smiles weakly. "Right," she says softly. "I tried my best to be nice to everyone, to keep up a cheerful front... but there were... slip-ups. They definitely had reasons to fear me." <br><br> <</if>><</nobr>> After a pensive silence, she turns and gives you a small smile. "Anyway, I'm much happier as a Shepherd than I was as a gladiator. Even though I never had it as bad as others—like, say, Nathe—and I got special treatment as a champion… I'd never want to go back. Here, I have real friends, not just comrades who were thrown together by circumstance and forced to cohabitate on pain of death. I have—choice, and freedom, and…" She trails off, then gives you a fiercer kind of smile. "And I still get to fight. So I'm happy." <<include "brionytalklockwood">>

Briony eventually drifts off to sleep, her breathing deep and even and peaceful. It lets you sleep as well, and you spend the rest of the night swimming through a black and dreamless sea. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "nextmorninglockwoodi">><</link>></center>

You've noticed that Briony tends to oversleep, no matter how much she tries not to. She grins sheepishly at you. "Will you wake me up if I do?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"No way. I\'m leaving you if you don\'t wake up on your own."' 'noway6im'>><<setloyal -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"No, thanks. I saw Red try to do that once, and you swatted him aside like he was a fly."' 'nothanks6i'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Sure, I\'ll wake you up."' 'sureill6wake'>><<setbriony +1>><</link>></li> <<if $attractedto is not "men">><li><<link '"Sure I will. Maybe even with a kiss." <b>[FLIRT]</b>' 'maybewith6akiss'>><<set $brionyromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li><</if>> </ul>

She makes a humming sound. "Good thing I run fast, then. I'll have to catch up to you tomorrow. Good night!" With that, she flops over onto her side and is out like a light. <<include "nextmorninglockwood">>

"I was sleepy!" Briony protests. "I promise not to do that tomorrow. You're my commanding officer, it'd be a terrible scandal." "That's the only thing that's stopping you?" She grins at you. "Good night!" With that, she flops over onto her side and is out like a light. <<include "nextmorninglockwood">>

"You're a doll," Briony says, beaming. "I knew I could count on you. Good night!" With that, she flops over onto her side and is out like a light. <<include "nextmorninglockwood">>

<<nobr>><<if $brionyromanceflag gt 5>> She grins at you. "You'd give me the royal treatment?" she asks playfully. "I shall endeavor to sleep in, then." She winks at you and turns over onto her side—but from the pattern of her breathing, you're not sure she falls asleep for a long time. <<else>> Briony laughs, but the sound is slightly forced; she looks embarrassed. "Knowing me, I probably wouldn't even wake up," she manages, trying to keep her tone light—but she doesn't seem to know what else to say. She turns away from you with a blush and hides her face until she falls asleep. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "nextmorninglockwood">>

Briony stares at you quizzically. "Um… yes? Did you want to switch?" You stare at her flatly and she finally seems to take your meaning. Her cheeks pink. <<nobr>><<if $brionyromanceflag gte 5>> "You don't want me in your bed," she says, her tone light and playful but her body language more shy. "I turn and toss something awful, and I kick." <br><br> You pretend to think on it. "I think it'd be worth it." <br><br> She blushes harder. "You're such a flirt!" she murmurs, flustered. She punches her pillow into a more comfortable shape and then flops down, her face hidden from you. From the pattern of her breathing, though, you can tell she doesn't fall asleep for a long time. <<else>> "Oh—" she begins to stammer. "I, uh—I sleepwalk, so—maybe another time!" <br><br> Then, clearly embarrassed by what she's just blurted out, she punches her pillow into a more comfortable shape and then flops down, hiding her face from you. You can tell she wants to die of humiliation, so you leave the matter alone. For now. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "nextmorninglockwood">>

Briony gives you an odd look. "Are you sure? It's going to be freezing tonight." You nod. "I'm used to it. I'll just snuggle up with Uwala and a horse blanket." Tallys shrugs. "It's your decision," she says. The other three play a quick game of hand-signed Elements—which, of course, Tallys wins—before dispersing to their rooms. You bring your bags back down to the stables outside, where the hostlers give you a strange look but allow you the use of a lantern and a horse blanket. You settle against Uwala's warm and furry stomach, breathe in the smells of dust, snow, and hay, and then fall asleep. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "nextmorninglockwood">><</link>></center>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "nextmorninglockwoodi">><</link>></center>

The next morning, you continue the journey to Lockwood, expecting to come within sight of the city by sunset. <<include "journeytolockwood">>

You continue the journey to Lockwood, expecting to come within sight of the city by sunset. <<include "journeytolockwood">>

<<nobr>><<if ($tallyssex is true and $tallysromanceflag lt 5) and $ons is true>> Tallys acts completely normal towards you, though you think she rolls her eyes once at your antics. It seems she's able to hold true to her promise not to let your own sexual relationship get in the way of pursuing others. <<elseif ($tallyssex is true and $tallysromanceflag gte 5) and $ons is true>> Tallys acts as frosty to you as all the others do. This is slightly confusing, considering you always said you wouldn't let you own sexual relationship get in the way of pursuing others. But you have no time to discuss it with her, with Briony and Ayla around. The day drags on in awkward silence. <<elseif $aylaromanceflag gte 5 and ($ons is true or $makeout is true)>> Ayla seems to want nothing to do with you, scoffing, tsking, and glaring at you whenever you happen to speak or even sneeze. It's clear that she's annoyed by your actions in Rivercross, and now she acts as if you're worse than the mud under her shoe. <br><br> The day drags on in awkward silence. <<elseif $brionyromanceflag gte 5 and ($ons is true or $makeout is true)>> Briony seems to avoid your eye all day, her movements jerky and awkward around you, even the brush of your shoulder against hers making her jump as if she'd been burned. It's clear that she's upset about your actions in Rivercross—Briony is nothing if not abysmal at hiding her emotions—but she does not seem to want to discuss it with you, choosing instead to pretend as if you don't exist. <br><br> The day drags on in awkward silence. <<else>> The day passes in companionable quiet, the slow leaping bounds of your ahfuri lulling you into an almost sleepy, comfortable peace. You make idle conversations with the others, take breaks to prevent saddle soreness, and even stop by a pond to skip stones. The watery winter sun skids across the sky like an egg across a warm pan. <</if>><</nobr>> Finally, you come into sight of Lockwood, just as the sun begins to sink towards the western hills. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "journeytolockwoodi">><</link>></center>

It's an impressive-looking provincial town, if a bit small: larger than your hometown by a landslide, but nowhere near as big as Haven or Ambryn. The buildings are built in the old fashion, with ornate iron-wrought designs and charming embellishments on the roofs, and quiet cobbled lanes and avenues. It's a place that seems almost frozen in time, isolated from the changes that have taken root in the other parts of the Continent. A quaint, pretty town. The sights are marred slightly by the tents staked outside of the city walls, crowded with people who seem to be refugees fleeing the recent attacks on the outlying lands. It's a well-organized encampment, at least, with plenty of food being distributed by people wearing town guard uniforms—but you were not expecting this number of fugitives, and the scale of the attacks that they imply. The town guard do not seem to be expecting you when you make it to the gates and request to be let in. They confer amongst themselves in furious whispers, and for a half-hour they try to turn you away. "We did not call any Shepherds here," one calls down to you from the city wall ramparts. His helmet keeps slipping down into his eyes; he seems young, and new to his position. "M'lord Naveen was very clear about that. I think you've got the wrong place." "This is Lockwood, isn't it?" Briony calls up, cupping her hands around her mouth. "And aren't you experiencing supernatural attacks? Possibly demons? Who better to help you than the Shepherds?" He shuffles, looking uncertain. "We did not call you here, though! M'lord would not want you to gain entry to the city without his permission—I've sent a messenger to ask him what he wants to do—" Ayla abruptly bangs the end of her staff against the cobbled road. "Oi, pig-face! I'm getting tired of standing around, so if you don't let us in and let us talk to <i>m'lord</i> ourselves, we're just going to walk right through the wall!" Briony glances at you. "Can we do that?" "Magically? Most likely. Politically? I don't think it would be wise," Tallys says, looking dryly amused. Abruptly, another man appears at the battlements, conferring with your gatekeeper in a harsh voice. He seems to be a superior, possibly the captain of the guard. The younger man cowers, his head disappearing from the wall, and the new one leans down to address you. "Sorry about all that," he says. "The Lady Naveen has been expecting you, but the others weren't told, in case the Lord got wind of it. I suppose he knows now." He shakes his head. "You can go in. Head straight up the road, and you'll see the Naveen estate. You can't miss it. It's the biggest building in the whole place." With that, the gates open with a complaining creak. You enter Lockwood, exchanging skeptical looks as you walk into the city's shadow. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "journeytolockwoodii">><</link>></center>

You make your way into Lockwood, taking in the quaint, stately little shops and houses, the well-cobbled and unbroken roads. Predictably, people stare at your little procession and the enormous ahfuri who pad quietly beside you, tails whipping occasionally: you see one baker's eyes boggle when he takes in your dark blue uniforms, and you see several teenagers gasping aloud and hurrying off to spread the news. "So much for being discreet," Tallys murmurs. You eventually make your way up to what you presume is the Naveen estate: a towering, sprawling castle at the top of Lockwood, perched on its largest and tallest hill and looking out over the entire fiefdom. You pass your mounts off to the startled stablehands, and a rosy-cheeked butler hurries out to greet you. "Ah—officers—this is quite unexpected!" he sputters. "To arrive unannounced like this—the Lord Lockwood is in deep conference at the moment—" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"We\'re here on Shepherd business. Whatever he\'s doing can wait."' 'journeytolockwoodiii'>><<setcharisma -1>><<setcompassionate -1>><<setcourage +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"We come here at the invitation of his daughter, Lady Naveen."' 'journeytolockwoodiii'>><<setlavinet +1>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"We\'ll wait until he\'s done."' 'journeytolockwoodiii'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

<<nobr>><<if settings.music is true>><<audio ":playing" fadeout>><<audio "lockwood" volume 0 fadeoverto 10 0.1>><</if>><</nobr>> The man blinks rapidly. "Er—ah—" Then, seeing the seriousness on all your faces, he bows deeply. "…Of course. Please, follow me." He leads you into the Naveen estate, past a vast, glittering, perfumed foyer and into halls lined with plush teal carpet and vases even richer than Riel's. It's an exorbitant display of wealth, but tasteful—speaking to years of dignified lineage rather than tawdry affairs of opulence. Ayla runs a hand across a luxurious velvet couch in front of a window and whistles. The butler's eye twitches, but he says nothing. Then you round a corner and come face-to-face with a tall, beautiful, fair-skinned woman with delicate auburn curls cascading down nearly to her waist. She's statuesque and curvaceous in that way that fabulously beautiful noblewoman are; she has an imperious nose and full, painted lips set in a patrician face. Burgundy, wine-colored eyes blink at you from behind luxurious lashes. The woman is dressed in a lavender-colored dress made of crushed velvet and holding a silk fan in her white-gloved hand; as soon as she sees you, the fan flicks up and spreads to cover her mouth, as quick as a thought. The butler practically throws himself at the woman's feet. "Lady Naveen!" he blurts, bowing. "These—guests—are here to—" "I know who they are, Benson," the woman says. Her voice is deeper than you would expect, the rich, clear tone of an opera singer rather than the tittering high voice you were expecting. "In fact, they are <i>my</i> guests, and they're here at my invitation." Benson makes a strangled sound. "Lady Naveen—" She ignores him and turns to your group, taking all of you in: from Tallys' glower, Briony's bright look of interest, and Ayla's bored indifference. Her eyes linger on your face longest of all; <<nobr>><<if $prihineromance is true>> you wonder if she recognizes you, if Prihine's mentioned you, but finally her eyes turn away, and she smiles. <<elseif $prihinedead is true or $bothdead is true>> you wonder if she recognizes you, the bodyguard who let her cousin die, but that seems impossible: how would she know you by your face alone? Finally her eyes turn away, and she smiles. <<elseif $prihinesafe is true or $bothsafe is true>> you wonder if she recognizes you as the person who saved Prihine's life, but finally her eyes turn away from you, and she smiles. <<else>> but whatever she sees in your expression, she doesn't give it away in hers. <</if>><</nobr>> "Thank you for answering my letter," she says after you exchange introductions, curtsying deeply and sincerely to you. Her fan snaps shut and is held at a flat angle, like a rapier in a fencer's riposte. "I am grateful beyond words to receive you here as my guests. That the Shepherds deemed it fit to help our small fiefdom is an honor. As such, please call me Lavinet, not Lady Naveen. You won't need to stand on ceremony here." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I wasn\'t planning on it."' 'iwasnt6planning'>><<setcharisma -1>><<setlavinet -3>><<settallys +3>><<setayla +1>><<setloyal -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Does that apply to your father, as well?"' 'doesthat6apply'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Bow deeply in return. "We were honored to receive your request, Lavinet."' 'bowdeeply6in'>><<if $gender is "male">><<set $lavinetromanceflag += 1>><</if>><<setlavinet +1>><<setcharisma +1>><<setloyal +1>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> <<if $attractedto is not "men">><li><<link 'Drink the sight of her in. "If I\'d known how beautiful the letter-writer was, we would have gotten here much sooner." <b>[FLIRT]</b>' 'drinkthe6sight'>><<setlavinet -3>><<set $lavinetromanceflag -= 1>><<settallys -3>><<set $tallysromanceflag -= 1>><<if $aylaromanceflag gte 5>><<set $aylaromanceflag -= 3>><<setayla -3>><</if>><<if $brionyromanceflag gte 5>><<set $brionyromanceflag -= 2>><</if>><</link>></li><</if>> </ul>

Lavinet doesn't bat an eye at your bluntness, though Ayla snickers. She inclines her regal head and says with perfect politeness: "I'm glad that barriers of status won't stand between us, then." <<include "journeytolockwoodiv">>

Lavinet doesn't bat an eye at your blunt question. "That will be up to him to decide," she says. "But when you're with me, we shall be friends." Tallys might have made a sound, but it was so quick and subtle that you missed it. Lavinet gives no sign that she notices. "Come, let's talk somewhere more private." <<include "journeytolockwoodiv">>

She smiles. "A diplomat. The Shepherds sent their best, then. I'm pleased." <<include "journeytolockwoodiv">>

Benson's face purples, but Lavinet doesn't bat an eye at your shameless flirtation. "Come," she says, drawing her closed fan through her hand. "It would please me greatly if we could talk somewhere more private." <<include "journeytolockwoodiv">>

<<nobr>><<if settings.music is true>><<audio ":playing" fadeoverto 5 0>><</if>><</nobr>>Leaving Benson behind, Lavinet leads you outside to a beautiful terrace with a vine-and-flower-threaded pergola shielding you from the gazes of any curious people below. There is a white-clothed table already set up here, with a three-tiered tray of cakes and finger sandwiches and steaming pots of pink floral tea. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Wait for Lavinet to pour out your tea, as the hostess of the occasion.' 'waitforlavinet6to'>><<setlavinet +1>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Pour out Lavinet\'s tea, to be polite and deferent.' 'pourout6lavinetstea'>><<setlavinet +1>><<if $gender is "male">><<set $lavinetromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Wait for servants to emerge and pour out your tea.' 'waitfor6servants'>><<setcharisma -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Pour only your own tea: this seems like a self-serve situation.' 'pouronly6yourown'>><<setcharisma -3>><<setlavinet -1>><<setloyal -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Lavinet smiles and pours you the cups of hot, sweet tea. <<include "journeytolockwoodv">>

Lavinet blinks, as if surprised by your gesture, but then she smiles and continues the conversation flawlessly, nodding to you as she accepts a cup of hot, sweet tea. <<include "journeytolockwoodv">>

You wait, but it seems that no servants are forthcoming: this is a private conversation, and thus will not be attended by servants. If Lavinet notices your gaffe, she gives no sign; she leans forward and serves you the tea herself, pouring you all cups with easy, practiced motions. <<include "journeytolockwoodv">>

Tallys and Ayla follow suit, but Lavinet looks briefly surprised by your move. However, she smiles and continues the conversation flawlessly. <<include "journeytolockwoodv">>

"I suppose I should start from the beginning," she says after you've all settled in. "First: thank you again for answering my request. I'm aware of the strain in relations between the Autarchy's aristocrats and the Shepherds, so your coming at all speaks volumes as to the integrity of your Order. I take it your journey was manageable?" "It was just fine, thank you," Briony begins, but Tallys cuts her off with: "Let's skip the pleasantries, please, and get to the point of the matter. I don't believe we have much time to waste." Lavinet blinks once, but otherwise her face stays a pleasant mask. However, there's no denying the brief, awkward silence that falls over the table. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Nudge Tallys. She needs to be polite to Lavinet.' 'nudgetallys6she'>><<settallys -3>><<setlavinet +3>><<setloyal +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Look expectantly at Lavinet. If her letter was anything to go by, you can\'t waste time on her long-winded rambling.' 'journeytolockwoodvi'>><<settallys +3>><<setlavinet -3>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Look hopelessly at Briony, who looks mortified. This is going to be a long mission.' 'journeytolockwoodvi'>><<setbriony +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Cover a laugh with your hand, the way Ayla is doing.' 'covera6laugh'>><<setayla +3>><<setlavinet -3>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Busy yourself with sipping your tea.' 'busyyourself6with'>><<setcourage -1>><<setloyal -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Tallys frowns, but otherwise doesn't acknowledge you. <<include "journeytolockwoodvi">>

The lady looks distinctly unamused by your snickers. So does Tallys. <<include "journeytolockwoodvi">>

It's quite a pleasant flavor, not terribly sweet, with an herbal aftertaste. <<include "journeytolockwoodvi">>

"Of course," Lavinet says easily after a moment, turning to Tallys. "Forgive me, I'm so used to making idle conversation to pass the time—" She shakes her head. "There I go again. But I do know how to cut straight to the heart of the matter, trust me." She sighs. "As I said in my letter, we are being besieged—quite literally—by beings of an unknown but supernatural nature. They've begun to visit us nearly every night, so that we have to herd everyone into the city and bar the gates; and before this, they were plaguing our farms and outlands. Thankfully, no civilians have been outright killed, at least not directly, but homes and villages have been destroyed, and many lives displaced." She reaches over to a book lying on a sidecart and spreads it open in front of you, maneuvering easily around the teacups and sugar spoons. "Now, I've been attempting to research this matter, but I'm hampered by the fact that refugees are flooding into Lockwood every day: I'm busy helping my father manage this all, and besides, he discourages the investigation. To him, it is easy to chalk this up to Endarkened attacks—and the solution is equally as simple. Military force." She leafs through the book, which turns out to be her journal: she shows you bits and pieces she's copied out of old textbooks, as well as a crude drawing that a villager gave her. The drawing depicts a figure made of smoke or mist, with glowing eyes and not much else. "Now, you see," Lavinet says, pointing at the drawing with her gloved hand, "this is what made me wonder if these are really Endarkened after all. To take this form, they cannot be Imps or Revenants, who are either very large or quite small. They must be Cacophants, then, since Cacophants can shape-shift and choose their forms—but why choose this form at all? And why would there be so many of them in one place?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"It doesn\'t make sense. These must not be Endarkened."' 'itdoesnt6make'>><<setlavinet +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You know a lot about demons for a civilian."' 'youknow6alot'>><<setlavinet +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Demons are tricky, though. They manipulate and scheme. Choosing this form may be part of some plot we\'re not aware of."' 'demonsare6tricky'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Are we sure this drawing is accurate, though?"' 'arewe6sure'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"How many are there, exactly?"' 'howmany6are'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Have you seen one in person?"' 'haveyou6seen'>><</link>></li> </ul>

"Exactly," Lavinet says, looking triumphant. "I agree, darling. I do not believe they are Endarkened." <<include "journeytolockwoodvii">>

Lavinet flinches at your use of the word 'demon,' which isn't used in polite conversation, but then she sits back and preens a little. "Of course, darling. A girl must know her enemies thoroughly; I have strived to put my mind to good use while I awaited your arrival." Tallys rolls her eyes. <<include "journeytolockwoodvii">>

Lavinet frowns. "I suppose that's true. But isn't the simpler answer that they're not Endarkened at all, but something else?" <<include "journeytolockwoodvii">>

Lavinet frowns. "Well, nothing in this life is sure," she says. "But I have had at least two witnesses affirm its proximity to the real thing. I wouldn't have wasted my time, otherwise." <<include "journeytolockwoodvii">>

Lavinet shakes her head. "We're not sure," she says. "Since we don't know how they travel, if they have access to magic. It could be only a dozen or several hundred. The stories are too piecemeal to know for certain." <<include "journeytolockwoodvii">>

Lavinet shakes her head. "Not yet," she says. "Although they've been appearing at our gates most nights, Father doesn't allow me out of the estate. And I wanted to ride to one of the villages being affected, but he forbade that, too. The closest that I came was when they hurled fire through our window. After that, we've all been kept under lock and key." <<include "journeytolockwoodvii">>

"What do you think <i>they</i> are, then?" Ayla asks, leaning back and placing her dirty shoe on the chair opposite of her. "If not demons, then what?" Lavinet sighs and leans back. "That's what I was hoping you could tell me. I've set our best scholars on the case, but their resources are limited when we are essentially walled into our own city. You can speak to them later, of course." Then she looks up, regarding you with her burgundy-colored eyes. "There are also… complicating factors at play here." "As if things weren't already complicated enough?" you quip. Lavinet smiles slightly, though the expression lacks true mirth. "You will soon learn that <i>everything</i> surrounding me is complicated, darling," she says lightly. "But—yes, this case is rather more complicated than simply catching a few creatures and… banishing them, or whatever it is you strapping Shepherds do." She glances up at the high windows of the estate. "You know, of course, that my father did not want you to come here—that he did not, in fact, even know you were coming until undoubtedly a few minutes ago. Of course, I'll fight tooth and nail to keep your presence here, but it <i>is</i> a hurdle we must address. Tonight at dinner will be the best proving ground, I think." "We can handle one man," Ayla drawls. Lavinet laughs, the sound like the tinkling of a champagne glass. "Oh, I don't doubt it! But do go easy on him, will you? Not only is he my father, but he is a powerful authority in these lands. You never want to earn the true wrath of a Naveen." Then she takes a sip of her tea. "And there's something else. Do you know what the bargaining season is?" <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "journeytolockwoodviii">><</link>></center>

You frown and glance around at the others, who all look puzzled. "I can't say I do." "I suppose it would be known as the social season, to others," Lavinet says airily. "It's the part of the year where all the aristocrats and nobles of a region gather together in one place to—well, socialize. We all go to the Winter Court in Sacor—though the biggest and most elite players go to the Sun Court in Haven—and hold events: dinners, parties, balls, charity events. And auctions, races, card games, parlor readings, concerts—all of that, you know, the things that show up in those novels about aristocratic life. The younger nobles, when they reach debuting age, are officially presented to society at the start of the season, and we all <i>mingle</i> and showboat and dance, and it's a long and busy affair." You nod slowly. "I've heard of the nobles' social season, yes." "Well," Lavinet continues in a brisk tone, "<i>we</i> call it the bargaining season. Because it is also the season that marriage arrangements are made; nobles of a marrying age are expected to propose to each other during this time, and the most desirable scions may even be… fought over by competing families, or bid over, I should say. For the status they may bring the receiving family, you see, or the wealth, or the titles or the land or the connections and alliances…" "What does any of this have to do with the recent attacks?" Tallys asks impatiently. "I'm getting to that, darling," Lavinet says, still perfectly pleasant. "In any case, it's all a complex dance and ritual, the bargaining season, and one of its steps is to do a 'circuit' of the region prior to the bargaining season's start. Getting a lay of the land, you see, or renewing and strengthening previous bonds and alliances—or establishing new ones, ahead of the big show. As such, it's customary for groups of young aristocrats to tour the land, staying a few weeks at a time at some promising heir or heiress's estate before moving onto the next in a great pompous cavalcade…" "<i>What does this have to do with anything?</i>" Now Lavinet huffs and throws an annoyed look at Tallys. "We are hosting one such cavalcade now," she says, with a hint of frostiness. "A group of young and very powerful aristocrats, all my peers. They were visiting us when the attacks first began—and now the roads are so unsafe that they are unable to move on or return to their homes for fear of being ambushed en route and killed." She shakes out her long auburn hair. "So what I mean to say is: you will be investigating this case with an audience. An audience of young lords, ladies, and suzerains who could drastically alter the fate of the Shepherds in the future. Impress them, earn their support, and you may become unstoppable. But earn their ire—or, worse, fail to protect them—" She shrugs elegantly. "My dear, I'm sure I don't have to tell you what the Autarch might do if she discovers you've allowed an entire crop of young, promising, future Consortium members to die on your watch." Now Tallys curses. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'You echo her sentiments. "Shit."' 'youecho6her'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Raise your head. "We\'re up to the task."' 'raiseyour6head'>><<setcourage +1>><<setlavinet +1>><<if $gender is "male">><<set $lavinetromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You really think we could win the nobles\' support?"' 'youreally6think'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Remain silent while you absorb this information.' 'journeytolockwoodix'>><</link>></li> </ul>

"You could have told us this before we got here," Ayla says dryly then. Lavinet doesn't bat an eye. "Would you have come?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Yes, of course."' 'yesof6course'>><<setcourage +1>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setlavinet +1>><<setloyal +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"We could have prepared for this scenario, at least."' 'wecould6have'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Doubtful."' 'doubtful6echo'>><<setlavinet -1>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setloyal -3>><</link>></li> </ul>

She inclines her head. "Well, then, I'm sorry to have kept it from you," she says soberly. <<include "lavinetflatters">>

"Well, I'm sorry, darling," Lavinet says, not sounding overly sorry at all. <<include "lavinetflatters">>

"I assumed you wouldn't have wanted the responsibility—you might have passed it off to the Inquisitors, who I can't imagine will be as effective as you." Briony grins. "Are you trying to flatter us, Lady Lavinet?" "Of course not, dear," Lavinet says, mock-scandalized. "Such trite compliments would never work on such clever agents like you." Ayla cracks her knuckles. "You sure've got a way with words, Lady." <<include "journeytolockwoodix">>

She looks imperious. "Exactly." <<include "journeytolockwoodix">>

"I'm sure you are, darling," Lavinet answers. "I have every confidence in your performance. It's why I called you here." <<include "journeytolockwoodix">>

"The young ones, yes," Lavinet answers confidently. "With my help, of course: you need an in, a persuasive voice on your side. But if you perform well… this is a new, impressionable generation of aristocrats, my dear. Nothing like the stodgy, old-fashioned, and frankly prejudiced nobles you might be accustomed to. The possibilities here are endless." <<include "journeytolockwoodix">>

A servant appears seemingly out of nowhere and bends to whisper something into Lavinet's ear. She stands gracefully and her fan flicks up to cover her mouth. "I must go and speak to my father," she says, curtsying. "Calm him down before you meet officially at dinner. Tori here will show you to your rooms; if you need anything, let one of the servants know and you will be taken care of." She hurries away before you can say anything else, and the servant, Tori, turns to you with diffident eyes. "Please, follow me." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "journeytolockwoodx">><</link>></center>

You're led to the west wing of the Naveen estate, as sumptuously-furnished as any other part of the house. Tori shows you into a massive suite of rooms, which you expect to share with the others; however, she leads Briony, Ayla, and Tallys away. You're left regarding your new guest apartments with something close to awe: you have your own bedroom, bathroom, reading room, parlor, and foyer. You could fit a dozen Shepherds in here—maybe more. You unpack your things and take an hour or so to rest before Tori returns to notify you about dinner. After she leaves, you hesitate in front of your massive white-painted wardrobe, which holds most of your belongings. Tori mentioned that the dinner would be attended by Lavinet, her father, and the other visiting nobles—but no one told you what to wear. Is this a formal occasion? Casual? <<include "outfitpick1">>

<<set $dressedup to false>><<set $borrowedfromlavinet to false>> <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Wear your uniform.' 'wearyour6uniform'>><<setreputation -5>><<setloyal +3>><<setcharisma -3>><<setlavinet -1>><</link>></li> <<if $formalwearhave is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Wear the formalwear that Riel gave you before the Minister\'s gala.</div>' 'wearthe6formalwear'>><<setlavinet +1>><<if $gender is "male">><<set $lavinetromanceflag += 1>><</if>><<setreputation +2>><<set $dressedup to true>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Wear the formalwear that Riel gave you before the Minister\'s gala.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $formalwearhave2 is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Wear the formalwear that you salvaged from the gladiators\' arena.</div>' 'wearthe6wearsalvaged'>><<setreputation +1>><<set $dressedup to true>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Wear the formalwear that you salvaged from the gladiators\' arena.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $formalwear3 is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Wear the formalwear that you bought from Chandry.</div>' 'wearchandry6formalwear'>><<set $dressedup to true>><<setlavinet +1>><<setreputation +2>><<if $gender is "male">><<set $lavinetromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Wear the formalwear that you bought from Chandry.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link 'Ask to borrow something from Lavinet.' 'askto6borrower'>><<setreputation -3>><<setlavinet +1>><<set $dressedup to true>><<set $borrowedfromlavinet to true>><</link>></li> </ul>

You smooth down the creases in your dark uniform. It may look plain, but it's who you are. <<include "outfitpick1i">>

You look fondly at the outfit that Riel gave you before you infiltrated the Minister's gala: $formalwear. It seems so long ago now. Will you wear this to dinner? <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Yes.' 'outfitpick1i'>><<set $clothes to $formalwear>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'No.' 'whatwill6youwear'>><</link>></li> </ul>

What will you wear instead? <<include "outfitpick1">>

You had your formalwear from the Sponsor's dinner—$formalwear2—repaired and cleaned of the dust and bloodstains from that night. Will you wear this to dinner? <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Yes.' 'outfitpick1i'>><<set $clothes to $formalwear2>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'No.' 'whatwill6youwear'>><</link>></li> </ul>

You had Ysbeta design $formalwear3. Will you wear this to dinner? <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Yes.' 'outfitpick1i'>><<set $clothes to $formalwear3>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'No.' 'whatwill6youwear'>><</link>></li> </ul>

It's embarrassing to request clothes from your hostess, but not more embarrassing than showing up to dinner looking like a ruffian. You open your door and poke your head outside; with uncanny speed, a servant materializes in front of you out of nowhere, eyes downcast in a show of submission. "You needed something, <<c rank>>?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Speak to him imperiously. "I need to borrow Lady Lavinet\'s clothes for dinner tonight."' 'speaktohim6imperiously'>><<setcourage +1>><<setcompassionate -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Speak to him shyly. "Er... I\'m sorry to bother, but is there any way Lady Lavinet would have some clothes I could borrow? I\'m afraid I didn\'t pack for the occasion..."' 'servant'>><<setcompassionate +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Stare him down and bluff. "Where are my clothes? Lady Lavinet said she\'d send some over for this evening\'s dinner. Did someone forget?"' 'starehim6down'>><<setcunning +1>><<setcompassionate -3>><<setlavinet -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

The more confident you act, the less awkward this will be. <<include "servant">>

The servant bows deeply from the waist, so that his forehead is nearly touching the floor. "Of course. I understand." <<include "hehurries6off">>

The servant's face drains of color, and he hurriedly bows again, so deeply at the waist that his forehead nearly touches the ground. "Of course! I… wasn't informed. But I will fetch them right away." <<include "hehurries6off">>

He hurries off, and it's only belatedly that you hope that Lavinet's servants don't gossip: it would be mortifying for the other nobles to find out you had to borrow her clothes just to show up at dinner. The servant returns in an impressive few minutes with a neatly-wrapped silver box in his gloved hands. Inside are four outfits and a beautifully-penned note on cream paper: <i>I didn't have any time at all, darling, so I'm afraid these will have to do. I'll speak to our seamstress later and she'll whip up something much better within a few days. </i> Inside are some of the most gorgeous clothes you've ever seen, their fabric rich and shining. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Pick the floor-length auburn gown with glittering autumn leaves sewn into it and a hairpin made of fiery berries.' 'theservant6bows'>><<set $formalwear4 to "a floor-length autumn-themed gown">><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Pick the pale blue suit with white lining and silver cufflinks: the very picture of winter.' 'theservant6bows'>><<set $formalwear4 to "an icy, pale-blue suit">><<if $gender is "male">><<set $lavinetromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Pick the pale green robe with delicate pink petals stitched into it, scented with flowers.' 'theservant6bows'>><<set $formalwear4 to "a flowery, spring-colored robe">><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Pick the pale yellow vestments outlined with glittering gold thread and depicting a summery mural.' 'theservant6bows'>><<set $formalwear4 to "summery, warm, and golden vestments">><</link>></li> </ul>

<<set $clothes to $formalwear4>>The servant bows and hurries away. "Very good, <<c rank>>." <<include "outfitpick1i">>

You eye yourself in the mirror for a few minutes more. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Time to get on with it. You head down to dinner.' 'timeto6get'>><</link>></li> <<if $briony gte 55 and $dressedup is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Call Briony in for her opinion.</div>' 'callbriony6in'>><<setbriony +3>><<if $brionyromanceflag gte 5>><<set $brionyromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Call Briony in for her opinion.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $ayla gte 65 and $dressedup is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Call Ayla in for her opinion.</div>' 'callayla6in'>><<setayla +3>><<if $aylaromanceflag gte 7>><<set $aylaromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Call Ayla in for her opinion.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $tallys gte 60 and $dressedup is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Call Tallys in for her opinion.</div>' 'calltallys6in'>><<settallys +3>><<if $tallyssex is true or $tallysromance is true or $tallysromanceflag gte 20>><<set $tallysromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Call Tallys in for her opinion.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> </ul>

You head down to dinner, finding Briony, Ayla, and Tallys waiting impatiently in the corridor leading to the grand dining room, where you're told a special meal is being held in your honor—at Lavinet's insistence, you're sure. Briony is wearing the same dress that you saw her wearing in the gladiator's arena: the dark blue knee-length dress decorated with tiny gold moons and stars. It's a bit scuffed, and you think you might see a dot of blood on her skirt near her knee, but it's passable at a glance. Ayla is wearing the clothes you saw her wearing when you first met her in Capra—scandalous, near-translucent clothes from Jalis—and looking defiant, while Tallys is dressed in her Shepherds' uniform. It seems she's stayed true to her refusal to 'dress up' for the nobles. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Glance at Briony. "Do you think anyone will notice the blood?"' 'glanceat6briony'>><<setbriony -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Glance at Ayla. "That\'s what you\'re going to wear?"' 'glanceat6ayla'>><<setayla -3>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Glance at Tallys. "You couldn\'t have bothered to dress up?"' 'glanceat6tallys'>><<settallys -3>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Compliment them as a group. "You all look great!"' 'complimentthem6as'>><<if $charisma gte 40>><<setbriony +1>><<setayla +1>><<settallys +1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Nod at them and take your position at the door.' 'servantappears'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Briony forces a smile. "I'll say it's a new trend," she says. "A splash of color to liven up the outfit." <<include "servantappears">>

Ayla glowers at you. "I've got my uniform, and I've got my normal clothes," she growls. "Don't got anything else." <<include "servantappears">>

"I told you I wouldn't," she answers frostily, without looking at you. "These people don't deserve the energy." <<include "servantappears">>

<<nobr>><<if $charisma gte 40>> They smile at you. <<if ($aylaromanceflag gt $brionyromanceflag) and ($aylaromanceflag gte $tallysromanceflag) and ($aylaromanceflag gte 5)>> "Thanks," Ayla says, looking at you quickly and then glancing away. She clears her throat. "You, uh… You look good, too." <<if $brionyromanceflag lt 5>> Briony nudges her, grinning and waggling her eyebrows, and Ayla jams an elbow into her ribs. She yelps. "Ow!" <</if>> <<elseif ($tallysromanceflag gt $brionyromanceflag) and ($tallysromanceflag gt $aylaromanceflag) and ($tallysromanceflag gte 10 or $tallyssex is true)>> "As do you," Tallys returns, smiling slightly at you. Her face relaxes, for just a moment. <<if $dressedup is true>> "You… clean up well, as the saying goes. Not that you were dirty to begin with." <</if>> <<if $aylaromanceflag lt 5>> Ayla snickers, and Tallys sniffs and turns back to face the dining room door before you can answer. <</if>> <<elseif ($brionyromanceflag gt $aylaromanceflag) and ($brionyromanceflag gt $tallysromanceflag) and $brionyromanceflag gte 7>> "So do you," Briony says in a rush, looking over at you with sparkling eyes. She's blushing again. "You, um… look terribly good. They're going to think you're a noble too, and we'll just look like your servants. Not that that's, um, a bad thing, or anything." She pulls on her ponytail nervously. <<if $tallysromanceflag lt 3>> Tallys arches a brow at her; you can't see her total expression from where you're standing, but whatever she's doing, it makes Briony blush harder. <</if>> <<else>> "Thanks!" Briony chirrups, striking a pose while Ayla and Tallys smile briefly. "You look great, too!" <br><br> <<include "servantappears">> <</if>> <br><br> <<include "servantappears">> <<else>> But for some reason, your words sound false even to your own ears, and you falter as if you're telling an outright lie. Briony frowns at you but murmurs a thanks; Ayla glowers and Tallys shoots you a distinctly-unimpressed look. <br><br> <<include "servantappears">> <</if>><</nobr>>

You ask a servant to go fetch Briony, and when she arrives, her eyes practically light up at the sight of you. "Oh, you look so <i>good</i>!" she cries, charging at you. She coos and fusses over your outfit—for herself, she's wearing the same dress she wore to Zythos's dinner at the arena, the knee-length blue dress decorated with gold moons and stars. This close, her pink hair smells faintly of peaches and honey, and you notice she's wearing a bit of glossy maquillage on her lips and eyelashes. "Oh, gods, I'm so envious—you always look so incredible, it's no wonder everyone in the Order's totally in love with you!" Her hands smooth over your shoulders, touch your hands familiarly. She beams up into your eyes, practically sparkling. "You're <i>lovely</i>, <<c firstname>>," she says sincerely. "You made my knees go weak a bit when I got to the doorway!" She's always so enthusiastic, but you can always tell that she means it. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Return the compliment. "You look amazing."' 'returnthe6compliment'>><<set $brionyromanceflag += 3>><<setbriony +3>><<setcharisma +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Shy away. "I feel a bit awkward and out of place..."' 'shyaway6i'>><<setcourage -3>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Clear your throat awkwardly. "Um, thanks..."' 'clearyour6throat'>><<set $brionyromanceflag -= 1>><<setcharisma -3>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Raise a brow. "Your knees went weak at the sight of me?"' 'raisea6brow'>><<setbriony +3>><</link>></li> <<if $brionyromanceflag gte 10>><li><<link 'Stare at her lips. They look shiny and very kissable... <b>[FLIRT]</b>' 'stareat6herlips'>><<set $brionyromanceflag += 5>><<setbriony +3>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link 'Take in her outfit. "Is that blood near your knee?"' 'takein6heroutfit'>><<setbriony -5>><<set $brionyromanceflag -= 3>><<setcharisma -3>><<setcompassionate -5>><</link>></li> </ul>

She blushes prettily. "You think so? Thanks!" She twirls happily to give you a sense of the whole picture. "I never get the chance to dress up, so I admit I went sort of all-out. Did you see all the pots of maquillage they gave us, on the vanity? I wish I'd had the chance to buy a new dress before we came here, but the stuff I really like is way out of my price range, so I had to refrain. Still, I think I look good!" She gives a little shimmy of her bare, tanned shoulders, jokingly tossing her pink hair. "We're going to make quite the sight when we go down there—don't steal too much of my spotlight, okay?" Her cheeks go pink again, but her tone remains light and teasing. Then she wraps her arm around yours. "Now let's go. If I keep staring at you, I'm going to get all addled and confused!" <<include "youhead6down">>

Briony smiles, then reaches over and pats your cheeks. "Don't be," she says warmly. "Trust me, you always look incredible and like you can kick anyone's ass. Those nobles are going to be green with jealousy when they see you, okay?" She hooks her arm around yours. "Now, let's get down there and show them what you're made of!" <<include "youhead6down">>

Briony smiles, but seems to know to tone down her enthusiasm a bit. "You're welcome," she says softly, hooking her arm familiarly around yours. "Now, let's get down there and show everyone else what you're made of!" <<include "youhead6down">>

Her cheeks go pink, and she reaches over and punches your shoulder lightly. "Stop! They always do when I see beautiful people, don't read too much into it!" Then she hooks an arm familiarly around yours and grins up at you. "Now, let's go down there and knock the rest of them dead!" <<include "youhead6down">>

For a moment, time seems to go still as you zero in on Briony's face: her long, darkened lashes, the little freckles across her nose, the soft gloss of her lips. You feel something in your chest tighten, and before you know it, a pink blush has overtaken Briony's cheeks, turning them the same color as her signature hair. Her hands are still on your shoulders, unconsciously smoothing over your outfit. When she sees you staring intently, her hands tighten against you lightly. "<<c firstname>>?" she breathes, sounding a little breathless. She looks up up at you from beneath her lashes. You somehow manage to find your voice. "You look very beautiful," you whisper to her, your voice suddenly sounding constricted and raspy. She's staring at your lips now, too. "Uh, I do?" she says absently. "Um, you do, too… or… I suppose I already said that…" You can feel her warm breath ghosting against your mouth, making it tingle. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span><i>Knock, knock, knock!</i></span></div></div>' "stareat6herlipsi">><</link>></center>

Briony jolts, but doesn't move away from you for a split second, staring into your eyes in a kind of daze. Then she blinks rapidly and looks to the door; a servant pops her head through at your lack of response and says, "I'm to guide you to dinner, officers." "Oh," Briony mumbles, smoothing down her flyaway hairs. "Yes! Of course! Please lead the way!" She glances back at you and gives you a quick, nervous smile before turning to follow the servant. You're left to trail behind, grumbling internally about the lack of privacy even in one of the wealthiest households of the North. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "youhead6down">><</link>></center>

Briony glances down, frowning, then brushing self-consciously at the small bloodstain on her skirt. "A splash of color is fashionable," she says with forced cheer. She backs away from you, her smile awkward on her face. "Let's go down and meet the others, shall we?" <<include "youhead6down">>

You head down to the dining hall and find the others waiting outside of its doors. Ayla is dressed in her civilian outfit, the scandalous, near-translucent clothes from Jalis that she was wearing when you first met her. Tallys is wearing her uniform, having not bothered to dress up for the occasion. <<nobr>><<if ($tallyssex is true or $tallysromance is true) or $tallysromanceflag gte 10>> The Elf frowns at you, her green eyes moving between you and Briony, before her shoulders tighten and she looks away. <</if>> <<if $aylaromance is true or $aylaromanceflag gte 10>> Ayla glances at you, a scowl forming on her face when she notices that you're accompanying Briony. She looks away, her braid whipping around as her hand tightens into a fist at her side. <</if>><</nobr>> "Where have you two been?" Ayla asks. "Dinner's just about to get started, and I'm starving." <<include "servantappears">>

After a few moments, the Wind-Mage comes strolling in, dressed in her civilian outfit: the scandalous, near-translucent clothes from Jalis that she was wearing when you first met her. <<nobr>><<if $aylaromance is true or $aylaromanceflag gte 10>> At the sight of you, she pauses and lets out a long, slow whistle, eyeing you up and down appreciatively. <br><br> "Damn, <<c firstname>>," Ayla says honestly. "You look <i>fine</i>." She looks away, not embarrassed, exactly, but not meeting your eye, either. You watch as she swallows and tugs at her collar, as if hot—and she's from the Jalis desert. She never gets hot. "Um. Damn. You make me feel like I look like shit." <br><br> It's her own eloquent way of paying you a sincere compliment. <<else>> At the sight of you, she stops short and stares. "Damn, <<c firstname>>," she says honestly. "You look… great." She clears her throat and looks away, rubbing her arm as if suddenly embarrassed. "Kind of makes me feel like I look like shit. Can't even hold a candle compared to you." <</if>><</nobr>> <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"That\'s not true. You always look incredible."' 'thatsnot6true'>><<set $aylaromanceflag += 1>><<setayla +3>><<setcharisma +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Well, you could have bothered to dress up a little..."' 'wellyou6could'>><<setayla -3>><<setcharisma -3>><<setcompassionate -5>><<if $aylaromanceflag gte 5>><<set $aylaromanceflag to 0>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You really think so? I sort of feel out-of-place..."' 'youreally6thinkso'>><<setcourage -3>><<setayla -3>><<set $aylaromanceflag -= 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Don\'t talk badly about yourself, please. You don\'t deserve it."' 'donttalk6badly'>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setayla +3>><<if $aylaromanceflag gte 7 and $ayla gte 65>><<set $aylaromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <<if $aylaromanceflag gte 10 or $aylaromance is true>><li><<link 'Look away from how her gauzy outfit clings to her every lean curve. "Um... what\'d you say?"' 'lookaway6from'>><<set $aylaromanceflag += 3>><<setayla +3>><</link>></li><</if>> </ul>

She waves you off, though you think she bites off a tiny smile when you're not quite looking. With her dark skin, you can't tell if she'd be blushing or not. "Shut up," she mutters. "That's so stupid and <i>not</i> true. …But, uh. Thanks for the thought." She glances at you briefly, then away again, then clears her throat, tugging on her braid as if it's a bellpull that will magically gift her with some ideas of what else to say. An awkward moment passes before she mutters, "We, uh, should get on down to dinner. The others will be wondering where we are." Before you turn to leave, she stops you with a hand on your sleeve. "<<c firstname>>?" She looks away again. "…Thanks." That's all she says before she quickly exits the room, leaving you to follow. <<include "youhead6downto">>

Ayla rolls her eyes, though her shoulders hunch as if you'd hit her. "Thanks a lot," she says sardonically. "I totally wanted to come traipsing all the way here just so's you could shit on me. Now that I've got that experience under my belt, I'm hungry." She swivels on her heel, almost whipping you in the face with her braid as she walks away. "Let's go down to dinner. The others'll be wondering where we are." <<nobr>><<if $aylaromanceflag gte 5>> <br><br> As you make to follow, you think you catch her muttering: "<i>Asshole</i>." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "youhead6downto">>

Ayla observes you for a moment, then forces a smile and pats you on the shoulder. "You don't gotta worry, <<c firstname>>," she says, her voice gruff and awkward. "You look great. And you always seem like you could kick ass. You don't have anything to worry about." You smile at her. "Thanks, Ayla." Clearly embarrassed, the Wind-Mage turns away. "Now, can we head down there and get some chow? I'm starving." <<include "youhead6downto">>

She grunts, not meeting your eye for a moment. Then she forces a stilted sort of laugh and punches you on the shoulder, hard enough to hurt. "I was just joking," she says, a little too heartily. Then she glances at you, then away. "But, um, thanks. It's… nice to hear that. Especially from you, of all people. You're… you're all right in my book, <<c firstname>>." Then she turns away, so abruptly that she almost whips you in the eye with her heavy, sand-colored braid. "Now, uh, let's get down to dinner. I'm starving, and the others are probably wondering where we are." <<include "youhead6downto">>

Ayla grins at seeing you so flustered, then makes a show of strutting right up to you, leaning so you get a good eyeful of her bared collarbones and hips. "You not paying attention to me?" she asks with a devious kind of grin. This close, she smells of heat and cinnamon; a kind of answering heat shivers up from your gut. "Huh?" She reaches out and flicks your cheek. "Eyes up here, <<c firstname>>." You drag your eyes up to hers, seeing her dark amber eyes watching you, observing the way her tongue flashes against her lip. Ayla says, very casually: "Better be careful. A girl'd get the wrong idea, with the way you're looking at her." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Step closer to her. "And what if I want you to get the wrong idea?" <b>[FLIRT]</b>' 'stepcloser6to'>><<if $aylaromanceflag gte 5>><<set $aylaromanceflag += 10>><<else>><<set $aylaromanceflag += 5>><</if>><<setayla +3>><<setcourage +1>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Back away. "S-sorry."' 'backaway6sorry'>><<set $aylaromanceflag -= 5>><<setayla -5>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Stare at her obliviously. "What do you mean?"' 'stareat6her'>><<set $aylaromanceflag -= 3>><<setayla -3>><</link>></li> </ul>

Ayla raises an eyebrow, then tilts her head, giving you that long, slow, assessing up-and-down look. After a moment, she seems to shrug to herself, as if to say, <i>Fuck it</i>, and says, "We got a few minutes before dinner. Want to make the most of them?" Your gut sparks. But before you can answer, someone knocks on your door… <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span><i>Knock! Knock! Knock!</i></span></div></div>' "stepcloser6toi">><</link>></center>

Ayla lets loose a growl of frustration and storms over to the door, yanking it open with hurricane-level force. "<i>What</i>?" A servant with impeccable composure bows, looking not at all surprised to find Ayla when he undoubtedly expected you. "I'm here to guide you down to the dining hall, officers." "Great," Ayla grits out. "We could have found it ourselves, but I'm <i>so</i> happy you showed up when you did." She tosses a frazzled look over her shoulder at you, as if this is all your fault. "Come on," she growls. "Let's just get down there before I get any more…" She casts a venomous glance at the servant. "<i>Aggravated.</i>" She stomps off, and you have no choice but to trail after her, wondering what would have happened if you hadn't been interrupted. <<include "youhead6downto">>

You almost miss the flicker of disappointment that crosses her face before the usual brash bravado makes its way back. "Never mind," Ayla grunts, standing away from you. "Do you want to head down already? I'm starving. My gut is welded to the bottom of my chest." She turns on her heel, her braid threatening to whip you right in the face. "Let's go." <<include "youhead6downto">>

She <i>tsks</i>, unimpressed, and steps away. "Never mind. Want to head down already? I'm starving." <<include "youhead6downto">>

You head down to dinner and find the others waiting for you outside of the grand dining hall. Briony beams at the sight of you, <<nobr>><<if $brionyromanceflag gte 10>> though the smile briefly falls when she notices that you're accompanying Ayla. She quickly shakes it off, though, and calls that you both look great. <<else>> calling that you both look great. <</if>><</nobr>> Tallys is standing with her, arms folded as she waits in her Shepherd uniform, having not bothered to dress up for the occasion.<<nobr>><<if ($tallyssex is true or $tallysromance is true) or $tallysromanceflag gte 10>> She arches a brow when she notices you with Ayla, then quickly looks away, her expression unreadable. Her fingers on her arms tighten noticeably, though. <</if>><</nobr>> "You made it just in time," Briony informs you as you both walk up. "They've just rung the bell for dinner, though so far the doors have stayed closed." <<include "servantappears">>

After a few moments, the door swings open, and Tallys makes her way in on silent footsteps. She's still wearing her Shepherds uniform, not having bothered to dress up for the occasion, but she still brings a certain elegance and grace to it, just from the way she moves. <<nobr>><<if $tallyssex is true or $tallysromance is true>> She stops at the sight of you, arching her brow and tilting her head as she drinks you and your outfit in. Then she pads closer, smiling a little, her eyes suddenly hooded and gleaming with flirtatious mischief. "Well, well, well," she drawls lazily, leaning close so that you can smell the scent of mint and eucalyptus in her hair. She drags a slim fingers across your shoulder, to your exposed throat, and then down to your collarbone. "Don't you clean up well? Who knew?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'You grin and capture her fingers in a kiss. "Like what you see?"' 'yougrin6and'>><<setcourage +1>><<setcharisma +1>><<set $tallysromanceflag += 5>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'You waggle your eyebrows at her. "Can\'t resist a $woman in formalwear, can you?"' 'youwaggle6your'>><<setcharisma +1>><<if $charisma gte 45>><<set $tallysromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Lean away. You\'re on a mission, and you want to stay professional. "You look nice, too."' 'leanaway6youre'>><<set $tallysromanceflag -= 5>><<settallys -3>><<setloyal +5>><</link>></li> </ul> <<else>> She smiles at the sight of you, taking your new outfit in. "So you decided to dress up, after all." She tilts her head, making the Elven gesture for sincerity. "You look wonderful. I'm sure the nobles will be very impressed." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Are <i>you</i> impressed, though?"' 'areyou6impressed'>><<set $tallysromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You\'re not mad that I dressed up for the likes of them?"' 'yourenot6mad'>><<settallys +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You really think I look nice? I feel a bit out-of-place..."' 'youreally6thinkilook'>><<setcourage -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Thanks. You look great, too."' 'thanksyou6look'>><<settallys +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You\'re really going to go in your uniform?"' 'yourereally6going'>><<settallys -5>><<set $tallysromanceflag -= 5>><<setcharisma -3>><</link>></li> </ul> <</if>><</nobr>>

"Very much so," Tallys breathes, the touch of her cool breath making you shiver and sparking a heat low in your gut. She leans forward and presses a slow, clinging kiss to your lips, her mouth soft and languid and pliant against yours. When you feel the peek of her tongue, you both breathe in sharply. "We've got a few minutes before dinner starts," she murmurs, her hands meandering down to your waist. "We could…" <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span><i>Knock! Knock! Knock!</i></span></div></div>' "yougrin6andi">><</link>></center>

Tallys freezes, then unleashes the most unholy stream of curses you've ever heard from a mortal being. Despite this tirade, the door swings open to reveal a placid-faced servant. "I am here to guide you down to dinner, officers," he says in a bland voice, looking not at all surprised to find Tallys here with you. "I'm sure you are," Tallys hisses. She smooths her hair, despite the fact that it was still smooth and unrumpled, before composing herself and stepping away from you. She casts you one regretful glance over her shoulder. "We'll continue this conversation another time, <<c rank>> <<c surname>>." You wink at her while the servant's back is turned. "I'm sure we will." <<include "youhead6dining">>

"No," Tallys concedes with a smile, stepping closer to you. She draws her fingers across your cheek, then down the side of your neck to the hollow of your throat, then to the space between your collarbones. Despite yourself, your heart thrums under her touch. She leans forward and presses a slow, clinging kiss to your lips, her mouth soft and languid and pliant against yours. When you feel the peek of her tongue, you both breathe in sharply. "We've got a few minutes before dinner starts," she murmurs, her hands meandering down to your waist. "We could…" <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span><i>Knock! Knock! Knock!</i></span></div></div>' "youwaggle6youri">><</link>></center>

Tallys frowns, a look of disappointment briefly flashing across her face before it's smoothed away into its usual professional stoicism. "Thank you," she murmurs, stepping away from you. "I said I wouldn't dress up for those charlatans, and so I won't. I'm glad you decided to maintain the decorum, though." Something about the way she says it indicates that she might not actually be that glad. She turns away. "Let's head down. I'm sure the others are wondering where we are." <<include "youhead6dining">>

Tallys smirks a little, the expression surprising on her face. "Why, do you want me to be?" "Would I have called you here if I didn't care about your reaction?" you return cheekily. Tallys makes a humming sound to herself. "Hmm, I suppose that is true…" When she turns to you again, she's smiling fondly. "I am impressed, <<c firstname>>. It seems no matter the situation, you always set the standard for others. The very picture of perfection. I… admire that quite a lot." Suddenly she looks away, brushing her short hair behind her pointed ear. "Anyway, we should get going. The others will be wondering where we are." <<include "youhead6dining">>

Tallys's look softens, and she shakes her head. "No, of course not," she says gently. "Forgive me, <<c firstname>>, Shery often tells me that I get carried away in my passions…" She trails off, as if realizing that her words could be misconstrued as innuendo. "What I mean to say is—just because I'm not dressing in formalwear for the nobles, it doesn't mean you shouldn't. It's why you're in charge of this mission, and not me. You're a better face for the team than I am. I'm glad you're here, and glad you're doing it, in fact." She walks over and gives you a pat on the shoulder. "I just want you to know that I'm not judging you for something like that," she says, her voice soft. "I'm sorry if I gave you that impression. It's my own prejudices and feelings, but it has absolutely nothing to do with you or the others, so please don't worry about that." Then she pulls away and says, "Should we get going? The others will be wondering where we are." <<include "youhead6dining">>

Tallys's look softens, and she comes forward to lay a cool hand on your shoulder. "You look lovely," she says, her tone sincere and encouraging. "You always do, and you always carry out your missions with courage and composure. I know this time will be no different." She gives your arm an encouraging squeeze before letting go. "Now, should we head down to dinner? The others will be wondering where we are." <<include "youhead6dining">>

Tallys smiles ruefully. "I know that it will be seen as odd that I'm wearing my uniform," she admits, "but I confess, I can't bring myself to care what nobles like these think." Then she glances up at you, her look surprisingly shy for a moment. "But it's nice to know that <i>you</i> like how I look," she adds. "Your regard means more to me than I… think I've said." <<nobr>><<if $tallys gte 70>> She looks back at you. "I respect you immensely, my friend," she says, her voice very soft. <</if>><</nobr>> Then she clears her throat and looks away, tucking her short hair behind her pointed ear. "Anyway, should we head down to dinner? The others will be wondering where we are." <<include "youhead6dining">>

"Yes," Tallys says calmly, "as I iterated earlier, I will not be dressing up for the likes of <i>them</i>. They can take me exactly as I am, or not at all." She regards you for a moment, frowning, before she turns away. "Let's head down to dinner. The others will be wondering where we are." <<include "youhead6dining">>

You head down to the dining hall, where you find Briony and Ayla already waiting for you. <<nobr>><<if $brionyromanceflag gte 10>> Briony notices you walking with Tallys and gives you a sudden tight, pained smile, before abruptly turning around and fussing with her hair, avoiding meeting your gaze. <<if $aylaromanceflag lt 10>> Ayla glances at her quizzically, then at you, clearly confused by her behavior. <</if>> <</if>> <<if $aylaromanceflag gte 10>> Ayla scowls when she sees you, looking away and kicking at a scuff on the floor. She doesn't make a comment as you approach with Tallys at your side. <</if>><</nobr>> "Has the event started?" Tallys asks as you look to the closed dining hall door. Briony shakes her head. "We heard the dinner bell, but no one came to fetch us…" <<include "servantappears">>

A servant appears suddenly at your elbow, making Briony jump as he moves to open the double doors for you. "Please, make your way inside. The Lord Lockwood is expecting you." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Into the Fray</span></div></div>' "servantappearsi">><</link>></center>

You were expecting a large but intimate dining room, similar to what you saw when you met with Zythos for your gladiators' dinner. However, you're surprised to find that the 'grand dining room' is actually big enough to be its own ballroom, with an enormous, cavernous ceiling decorated with gold foil and several long, white-clothed tables laid out on the north end of the room like it's the Shepherds' refectory during Wintersun. To the south, closest to you, is an array of buffet tables with small appetizers being handed out by servants. Beside you, Tallys murmurs, "Is this a dinner, or a feastday?" Lavinet spots you and drifts over, smelling of jasmine and gardenia. She's dressed in a resplendent, dove-gray gown with a white fur throw wrapped around her shoulders. She dips into a quick curtsy, then snaps open her fan, covering her mouth as she murmurs, "Hello again. I trust that you're finding your quarters comfortable?" "I've never stayed in a room so big," Briony answers brightly. "I feel as if the pillows will swallow me whole." Ayla nods. "'S pretty nice," she admits, smiling slightly and nodding to Lavinet. "…Thanks." Lavinet curtsies back. "It's my pleasure." <<nobr>><<if $borrowedfromlavinet is true>> Then she glances at you and smiles, clapping her hands. "<<c firstname>>! I'm so glad you chose that one, darling—it's the one I favored for you—my dear, you look a vision!" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Cough and look away, covering up a blush. "Thank you."' 'coughand6look'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Bow back. "I can only hope to measure up to your splendor."' 'bowback6ican'>><<setcharisma +1>><<setlavinet +1>><<if $gender is "male">><<set $lavinetromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Nod curtly. "I appreciate you letting me borrow this."' 'nodcurtly6iappreciate'>><<setloyal +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Look down at yourself skeptically. "Really? I feel a bit stupid."' 'lookdown6at'>><<setcourage -1>><<set $lavinetromanceflag -= 1>><<setlavinet -1>><</link>></li> </ul> <<elseif $dressedup is true>> Then she glances at you and smiles. "<<c firstname>>! You look a vision—wherever did you get those marvelous clothes?" <br><br> You explain, and she laughs, fanning herself. "I daresay you might start a new trend tonight. <<nobr>><<if $clothes is $formalwear>> I must speak to this Riel and ask where his seamstress trained." <<elseif $clothes is $formalwear2>> Perhaps we will all pay a visit to a gladiator's arena and find out where they source such wonderful clothes." <<elseif $clothes is $formalwear3>> Perhaps there will be a nationwide hunt for this… Chandry of yours." <</if>><</nobr>> <br><br> <<include "servantappearsii">> <<else>> <br><br> <<include "servantappearsii">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Lavinet smiles, fanning herself. "Of course." <<include "servantappearsii">>

Lavinet laughs—it's almost a giggle. She fans herself. "What a flatterer!" Then she looks mischievous. "Not to say I don't enjoy it. Keep the pretty words coming, darling, and you may find you have a talent for diplomacy." <<include "servantappearsii">>

Lavinet laughs, fanning herself. "It was my pleasure." <<include "servantappearsii">>

Lavinet smiles. "Nonsense. You are the picture of finery and finesse." <<include "servantappearsii">>

Tallys doesn't say a word during this exchange, instead scanning the room with wary eyes. "I take it those are the young aristocrats you were telling us about?" She nods to the western side of the room, where about a dozen or more trim and richly-dressed figures are mingling with each other, their fluting voices forming an airy backdrop to the whole affair. None of them seem to have taken any notice of you, as they don't glance your way—but somehow you feel a probing awareness directed at you nevertheless. One slender-necked young woman huddles closer to a tall, arrogant-looking man and hides whatever she's saying behind her silk fan. Lavinet follows your gaze, then leans closer to you. "Isolde Belchare," she murmurs. "Formerly heiress to the Dunixi fiefdom, to the north—though now she's lady of Coutre, or soon to be. She's engaged to the man next to her—Auberon Eddon." Then she hesitates, her fan spread open in her left hand, as if to invite a question. <<include "lavinettalk1">>

<ul class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("whatis6it")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"What is it you\'re not telling me? About them?" You glance at Auberon and Isolde. </div>' 'whatis6it'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("whatdo6weneed")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"What do we need to know about interacting with these nobles?"</div>' 'whatdo6weneed'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("whocan6itrust")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Who can I trust here, besides you?"</div>' 'whocan6itrust'>><<set $clara to true>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("wheresyour6father")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Where\'s your father? How did your discussion with him go?"</div>' 'wheresyour6father'>><<if $brawl is true>><<setlavinet -3>><</if>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("thereare6so")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"There are so many names. Why is your father called Lord Lockwood when your surname is Naveen?"</div>' 'thereare6so'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("whoelse6is")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Who else is in your family besides you and your father?"</div>' 'whoelse6is'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("whyare6we")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Why are we standing around eating appetizers? You didn\'t tell me this was a party."</div>' 'whyare6we'>><<setcharisma -1>><<setcunning -1>><<setlavinet -1>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link 'A bell rings. It\'s time for dinner to begin.' 'abell6rings'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Lavinet smiles in a catlike way. "What ever do you mean, darling?" Her fan's flapping quickens. <ul class="choices"> <<if $charisma gte 40>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Persuade her. "I can\'t be effective if I don\'t have all the information."</div>' 'auberonandisolde'>><<set $auberonknow to true>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Persuade her. "I can\'t be effective if I don\'t have all the information."</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link 'Intimidate her. "You\'re hiding something, and I want to know what."' 'intimidateher6youre'>><<if $compassionate lt 40>><<setlavinet -3>><<else>><<setlavinet -5>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Drop the subject. "Never mind."' 'dropthe6subject'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Lavinet glances around surreptitiously, then sighs, snapping her fan shut and drawing it through the palm of her hand again. "All right, but I must drop diplomacy in exchange for frankness," she murmurs. "And I would prefer it if you didn't breathe a word of this to anyone. Those two are powerful, as powerful as or even more influential than me. Auberon's province is vast, and Isolde's holdings rich. They may go to the Sun Court, someday. So I would tread carefully around them: they are chief among those who you must impress. But…" She trails off, and Ayla says impatiently, "Spit it out, will you?" "Oh, all right, but it's most unladylike," Lavinet hisses crossly. "Our history is—complicated. I must host them and do my best to be lovely and gracious and generous, but those two are snakes in grass. Auberon proposed to me last year—" Briony glances at Auberon. "<i>Oh!</i> Well, he's not terrible-looking—" "—and I rejected his proposal, causing quite a scandal in the Winter Court." Lavinet tosses her luscious auburn hair over her shoulder, looking indistinctly proud of herself. "I must marry for love, you see, and I do not love Auberon, the pompous a—buffoon. My father attempted to force the issue, as an allegiance with the Eddons would elevate our prospects immensely, but I… might have burned down his rose garden in protest. It worked, anyway, and all talks of marriage stopped. For now." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Wait, you <i>burned down your father\'s rose garden</i>?"' 'waityou6burned'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"That\'s admirable that you would stand up for your principles and defy your father like that."' 'thatsadmirable6that'>><<setlavinet +1>><<if $gender is "male">><<set $lavinetromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Why do you want to marry for love? That seems... impractical for people in your status."' 'whydo6you'>><<setlavinet -3>><</link>></li> </ul>

Lavinet waves an airy hand. "Yes, there was a point about me being a flower being grown only to be plucked—it was all much more emphatic at the time, darling." <<include "thenshe6shakes">>

She smiles slightly. "Thank you, darling. I'm aware that I'm quite privileged in being able to defy my own ordained fate—I have money, after all, and status, so I can afford to refuse—but it was crucial to my happiness. And happiness, after all, is one of the most important things in life, don't you think? Power and money mean nothing if you're not happy." "Wherever did you get the idea to refuse your own engagement?" Briony asks curiously. "Not many in your position, privileged or not, would believe in such a stance so passionately." "Romance novels, my dear," Lavinet answers airily. "If those characters can find love, then I can, too." <<include "thenshe6shakes">>

She gives you a long stare. "My happiness is not impractical," she says slowly. "It is paramount to all else." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"That sounds selfish."' 'thatsounds6selfish'>><<setlavinet -3>><<setbriony -1>><<setcharisma -2>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Only someone privileged could believe that."' 'onlysomeone6privileged'>><<setlavinet -3>><<settallys +1>><<setcourage +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I suppose that makes sense."' 'isuppose6that'>><</link>></li> </ul>

"It is your right to believe whatever you wish," Lavinet answers, coolly-polite again. She smiles at you as if her smile were a dagger she could slip between your ribs. "As it is my right to believe that opinion is stunted." <<include "thenshe6shakes">>

Lavinet purses her lips together, but says nothing in response to that. <<include "thenshe6shakes">>

She turns away from you. "Indeed." <<include "thenshe6shakes">>

Then she shakes her head. "After that, Auberon chose Isolde to be his betrothed, but rather than finding happiness in her catch, Isolde seems to resent me. We've always been something of rivals, but being made aware that she was 'second choice' and only received her new good fortune because of my rejection… It has not endeared me to her, not in the least." Ayla whistles. "So they're likely to hate anything you propose," she says. "Including bringing us here." If she were anyone else, she would grimace; however, Lavinet doesn't bat an eye. "Yes, that's the gist of it." There's a collective, muted groan. <<include "lavinettalk1">>

<<nobr>><<if $compassionate lt 40>> <<include "auberonandisolde">> <<else>> Lavinet smiles, the expression glittering and sharp. "Or else you'll do what, my darling?" she coos. <br><br> You can't think of what to say to that, so she turns away from you. <<include "lavinettalk1">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Lavinet glances around, then gives you a demure smile. "Of course." <<include "lavinettalk1">>

<<notify_codex_culture "Secrets of a Sun Courtier">>"Well," she says slowly, "don't ever ask to speak to one before noon—that time is only for the closest friends and confidants, and to do so would seem impudent. Or after sundown, and especially not alone. That's for lovers and dalliances." Tallys makes a noise of disgust, while Briony leans forward eagerly. "Anything else? If we can do anything to avoid causing offense—" "Or if we want to cause it," Ayla adds implacably. Lavinet sighs artfully. "There's so much, my dears," she laments. "It's all so complex that I fear it would take <i>weeks</i> to go over it. Oh, do they teach fan language in the Order?" You stare at her. "Fan language?" She nods and offers her pink silk fan to you; you notice that it has a beautiful embroidered peacock on its face. "Yes, the secret language of the courtiers. It's how we communicate without words, you see, or signal our feelings without being too obvious or uncouth." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Why on earth would they teach us that in the Shepherds?"' 'fanlanguage'>><<setlavinet -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Sorry, too busy killing demons to bother with fans."' 'fanlanguage'>><<setlavinet -3>><<setcharisma -3>><<setcompassionate -5>><</link>></li> <<if $intelligence gte 50>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I\'ve read about fan language in books, but I don\'t know the intricacies of it."</div>' 'iveread6about'>><<setlavinet +1>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">"I\'ve read about fan language in books, but I don\'t know the intricacies of it."</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link '"No, they don\'t teach us that in the Order."' 'wellshe6says'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Lavinet looks annoyed. "Well, I don't know, darling," she says, fluttering her fan impatiently. "You must have quite a lot of contact with the Autarch, her Sun Courtiers and Consortium members—it would be a useful skill to learn." "I would like to learn it," Briony interjects hastily, trying to diffuse her irritation. "If ever I have the time. It seems fascinating." Lavinet looks away from you. <<include "wellshe6says">>

Lavinet looks pleased. <<include "wellshe6says">>

"Well," she says, "you may always look to a courtier's fan to have an indication of what they're thinking. On the surface, they may be complimenting you with their words, but their fan might signal that they're actually insulting you—the other courtiers will see and know this. Covering the mouth like so, of course, is to indicate that one is saying something that one shouldn't, or that one is in a position of submission or deference. Holding the fan closed at a plangent angle, like this, is to say that it was a good response from you—a <i>touché</i>. Snapping it quickly once, open and shut, like this, is to say, <i>You are cruel.</i> Drawing it across the face, from left to right, is to say, <i>I wish to be rid of you now</i>. There's more—I'll have to send you a note, Isolde is renowned for her insults with the fan—and then there's the bowing and all of those nuances—" "Well, my head is spinning," Ayla remarks, looking around. "I need a drink." "There's punch on that table," Lavinet answers without skipping a beat. "Non-alcoholic, of course." Ayla grunts. "Pity." <<include "lavinettalk1">>

"The servants," Lavinet says instantly. "They're utterly loyal and trustworthy, so you have nothing to fear when it comes to them. And Clara, my lady-in-waiting." She turns and nods to a young woman in a rather plainer-looking dress than the rest of the nobles; she has stolid brown eyes and brown hair scraped back in a neat but severe bun. "She's my oldest and closest friend, and she supports our cause utterly. And her fiance, Pendric." She motions to a tall, friendly-faced aristocrat with black, curly hair and exotic designs on his ruffed collar. "I've known him since childhood and he can be counted on as an ally. If you must speak to aristocrats, trust them first. Though there's not much that they know that I don't." <<include "lavinettalk1">>

Lavinet coughs lightly, twirling her fan in her left hand. "There was quite a lot of shouting," she answers, serene. "But now that you're here, and he doesn't want to risk looking foolish by sending you away when he has all these charges to protect… I've convinced him to see things my way. To give you a chance. He'll be out in a moment, and I have his word that he will be <i>civil</i>. But he may ask you all manner of questions. Do try your best to answer them with grace, please. He's not entirely himself, now that we seem to be under siege." <<nobr>><<if $brawl is true>> <br><br> "We'll do our best," Briony says cheerfully. <br><br> "But I can't vouch that that means much," Tallys says, folding her arms. "Just before we got here, we had an all-out brawl in a tavern because a few farmers said some things we took offense to…" <br><br> "And <<c firstname>> had gone off with a trollop," Ayla adds seriously. <br><br> Lavinet's face drains of color. "I… see." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"They\'re joking."' 'theyrejoking6blank'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"..."' 'dotdot6dot'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Yeah, that did happen."' 'yeahthat6did'>><<setlavinet -1>><</link>></li> </ul> <<else>> <<include "lavinettalk1">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Lavinet laughs uneasily, but you're not sure if she totally believes you. <<include "lavinettalk1">>

Lavinet heaves an unladylike sigh. "Let's just move on," she says, covering her face with her fan. <<include "lavinettalk1">>

"We call each other by fiefdom name if we are in control of that fiefdom," Lavinet says. "My father's full title is Galbert Pierpont Naveen, Lord of Lockwood; and that's shortened to Lord Lockwood, not Lord Naveen. When I assume the mantle, I will be Lady Lockwood, unless I'm married and take my husband's name and title. Auberon, if he becomes ruler of Coutre, will be Lord Coutre, whereas he's still only Lord Eddon now. Does that make sense?" You nod, and she smiles. "Of course," she adds, "I will not marry anyone who will not allow me to control my own fiefdom." <<include "lavinettalk1">>

"I am the oldest," Lavinet says. "I have two younger half-sisters, Camilla and Estora the Younger. They've been at the finishing school in Sacor, and we decided they should stay there until it's safe to come home. Their mother—Estora the First—passed from an illness five years ago. I loved her as my own mother, of course; it was very tragic. And my birth mother, Edaline, left our household when I was six and has since remarried into a more powerful family." She doesn't bat an eye as she says this, as if she's relaying some unrelated news. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I\'m sorry to hear about your stepmother Estora."' 'imsorry6tohear'>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setcharisma +1>><<setlavinet +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Why did your mother leave your family?"' 'whydid6yourmother'>><<setlavinet -3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"And do you have any cousins?"' 'anddo6you'>><<if $prihinedead is true or $bothdead is true>><<setlavinet -10>><<setintelligence -3>><<setcunning -1>><<setcharisma -3>><</if>><</link>></li> </ul>

She inclines her head. "Thank you, darling." <<include "lavinettalk1">>

Briony nudges you for your nosiness, but Lavinet laughs quietly. "Oh, it's a tawdry story, dear," she says, infinitely gentle. "The rumor is that she had an affair, and so she had to leave our household in disgrace and marry her lover to legitimize their illicit romance. <i>Her</i> story is that she caught my father having the affair, and left him out of pride. She remarried very quickly, in either case." <<include "lavinettalk1">>

"Oh, many," Lavinet answers. But no other answer seems to be forthcoming. <<include "lavinettalk1">>

Lavinet laughs a cool, tinkling little laugh. "This is customary, darling," she says gently. "We don't sit and eat right away—we mingle and talk. It's not a party; we do this every night." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Oh... right. I knew that."' 'ohright6iknew'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"That seems excessive. Eating before you eat?"' 'thatseems6excessive'>><<setlavinet -1>><<settallys +1>><<setayla +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"What a waste of time."' 'whata6waste'>><<setlavinet -3>><</link>></li> </ul>

She smiles in a tight-lipped way. "Of course." <<include "lavinettalk1">>

"I'm not complaining," Ayla butts in. "The more food, the merrier." Lavinet laughs again, but seems to have nothing to add. <<include "lavinettalk1">>

Ayla grunts in agreement. Lavinet forces a tight-lipped smile. "If you say so." <<include "lavinettalk1">>

Lavinet beckons to you. "Come. You're to sit with my father at the high table—the seats of honor." <<include "servantappearsiii">>

She floats across the dining room towards the one long table set perpendicular to all the rest. You, Briony, Tallys, and Ayla follow with the eyes of everyone else in the room now upon you: young aristocrats, grizzled advisors, and hood-eyed servants alike. Lavinet directs to you to four chairs, the ones facing the strange audience, while she takes the seat at one head of the table. Directly across from you are <<nobr>><<if $clara is true>> Clara, the young woman that Lavinet pointed out as her trusted lady-in-waiting, and Pendric, her fiance. <<else>> a plainer-dressed young woman with brown hair scraped back in a bun, and a black-haired, tall young gentleman that you deduce is either her husband or lover. <</if>><</nobr>> Directly beside them are Auberon, a richly-clothed and handsome man with his dark braided hair pinned rakishly back from his face, and his betrothed Isolde, who has icy blue eyes and even icier diamonds clustered at her throat. You also notice that Auberon seems to have crushed pearl powder highlighting his dark, elegant cheeks. They are both the picture of opulence and wealth, even more so than Lavinet—more than anyone else here, in fact. Their eyes are cold and glittering. As you take your seats, a door on the far side of the room opens, and a man who can only be Lavinet's father comes striding out. He is shorter than Lavinet, but rather powerfully-built, with long auburn hair tied back in the traditional fashion and hard gray eyes. Everyone in the room stands in greeting, but without taking any notice, the man arrows straight towards you, stopping by his seat at the head of the table. "I am Lord Lockwood," he says after a moment, bowing to you slightly. "Thank you… for coming here." That's all he says before he sits, steepling his fingers over his plate. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Rise and bow to him. "It is our honor to be here. Thank you for hosting us so graciously, my lord."' 'riseand6bow'>><<setcharisma +1>><<setcompassionate +5>><<setreputation +1>><<setlavinet +3>><<set $nobles += 5>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Nod to him. "We are looking forward to lending our assistance in this matter."' 'nodto6him'>><<setloyal +1>><<setlavinet +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Raise a glass to him. "To your health, my lord."' 'raisea6glass'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Laugh. "That\'s all you can manage? I\'d heard a lot about the fine manners of nobles; I didn\'t realize they were so easy to read."' 'laughthats6all'>><<setcourage +5>><<setcharisma -10>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setlavinet -8>><<settallys +1>><<setayla +3>><<setbriony -3>><<set $nobles -= 10>><</link>></li> </ul>

Lord Lockwood does not give much away; he nods curtly and pulls his chair forward, but his shoulders relax slightly. You glance at Lavinet, and she smiles encouragingly and nods. <<include "lordlockwoodmeet">>

Lord Lockwood nods curtly and pulls his chair forward. You glance at Lavinet on the other end of the table, and she nods encouragingly. <<include "lordlockwoodmeet">>

Lord Lockwood sniffs, looking unimpressed, but he inclines his head in a nod. You glance at Lavinet on the other end of the table, but you can't read her expression. <<include "lordlockwoodmeet">>

There's a stifled gasp somewhere behind you, and <<nobr>><<if $clara is true>> Clara looks at you from across the table, her eyes wide and horrified. <<else>> the brown-haired woman across from you covers her mouth, her eyes wide and horrified. <</if>><</nobr>> Briony covers her face, and Lavinet forces a smile, but it's all teeth: her eyes spear you from the other end of the table. Lord Lockwood shakes out his napkin, not acknowledging that you've spoken. Auberon, across from you, leans towards Isolde and mutters audibly: "What did I tell you? Barbarians and savages." <<include "lordlockwoodmeet">>

"I'm Captain Stormbreaker, sir," Briony says then, standing and curtsying rather clumsily to Lord Lockwood. "Briony is my given name. We're glad to be here, and I'm confident we can help you solve this problem. We'll do our absolute best to protect the people here with our lives, if we must." "I'm Captain Aescar," Ayla says then, nodding from her seat. She glances at Tallys, who doesn't say a word and stares straight ahead. "That's Captain Ironwood. She's third-in-command of the Shepherds, so you know the Order's sent their best." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"And I am <<c rank>> <<c surname>>."' 'and6iamrank'>><<setloyal +1>><<if $rank is not "Officer">><<set $nobles += 5>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"And my name is <<c firstname>>."' 'lordlockwoodmeeti'>><<set $nobles -= 2>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"And my name is <<c firstname>>, but you can call me $halfname, $callsign, \'hey you,\' \'hellion,\' \'bastard,\' \'insufferably annoying\'..."' 'andmy6name'>><<setcharisma +1>><<set $nobles -= 5>><<setloyal -1>><<setlavinet -3>><</link>></li> </ul>

<<nobr>><<if $rank is "Officer">> "'Officer'?" Auberon repeats drolly. "You're an underling, then." <br><br> You stare at him. "I am the leader of this team." <br><br> He stares back, unfazed. "What a strange way of conducting things. An officer of a lower rank leading a team of superiors? I've never heard the like." <br><br> Lavinet clears her throat pointedly. "My dear Auberon," she says, placing her fan in her lap. "We're far from military or government experts—we can't hope to fathom the Shepherds' operations. Let's not look like the silly nobles we are by attempting to blindly guess." <br><br> Auberon's mouth pinches together, but he holds his tongue. Beside him, Isolde laughs softly and takes a sip of her water. <<else>> "I am the leader of this team," you add. <br><br> There are a few whispers and murmurs in the room as the aristocrats take in your appearance, no doubt speculating about your age and deeds. They seem impressed. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "lordlockwoodmeeti">>

<<nobr>><<romancecalc>><<if $highestromance is "chase" or $chasesex is true>> "I see Chase is rubbing off on you," Tallys mutters. <br><br> <</if>><</nobr>> The nobles mutter amongst themselves, clearly scandalized by your cavalier attitude. You grin cockily, and Lavinet looks down at her plate. <<include "lordlockwoodmeeti">>

Lord Lockwood studies you all for a moment, then nods again. "Welcome," he intones, unreadable. <<nobr>><<if $clara is true>> Across from you, Clara bobs a curtsy and introduces herself, giving you a shy smile; Pendric does the same, rather more cheerily than anyone else. Auberon murmurs something sarcastic like "Enchanted, I'm sure," and Isolde says nothing at all. <<else>> Across from you, the brown-haired woman introduces herself as Clara, Lavinet's lady-in-waiting, and the man beside her is Pendric, her fiance and heir to the Aster fiefdom—wherever that is. <</if>><</nobr>> With the introductions done, the servants begin to bear silver platters to your table. There's roast goose in slices, covered with plum sauce; buttery pastries filled with crab and delicate cheese; pears poached in wine and thin crepes filled with shredded potatoes, wild rice, juicy shrimp, and sauteed vegetables. The servants load your plate without asking how much or what you would like to eat. Briony and Ayla dig in eagerly, giving compliments or making noises of approval, while Tallys picks at her food. You glance down and notice all the cutlery by your plate: arrayed before you are more forks, knives, and spoons than you've seen in one place. You stare down at them, wondering if there's any meaning to which one you pick. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Look around surreptitiously to see what the nobles are using.' 'lookaround6surreptitiously'>><<if $cunning gte 55>><<set $nobles += 5>><<setreputation +1>><<setcunning +1>><<else>><<set $nobles -= 5>><<setreputation -1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Think back to the etiquette lessons in the books you\'ve read.' 'thinkback6to'>><<if $intelligence gte 50>><<set $nobles += 5>><<setreputation +1>><<setintelligence +1>><<else>><<setreputation -1>><<set $nobles -= 5>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Boldly go with your gut. If you act with enough confidence, no one will notice what you pick, anyway.' 'boldlygo6with'>><<if $courage gte 55>><<setcourage +1>><<setreputation +1>><<set $nobles += 5>><<else>><<setreputation -1>><<set $nobles -= 5>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Ask Lavinet, but do it so light-heartedly that no one thinks twice of your question.' 'asklavinet6but'>><<if $charisma gte 55>><<setlavinet +1>><<setcharisma +1>><<setreputation +1>><<set $nobles += 5>><<else>><<setreputation -1>><<set $nobles -= 5>><</if>><</link>></li> </ul>

<<nobr>><<if $cunning gte 50>> You see that Clara and Pendric are using the forks that are second-right from their plate and the spoons that are fourth-left from their plate, so you follow suit. <<else>> You glance over at Clara and Pendric, but they move too quickly for you to make out which spoons or forks they've picked out. You clumsily try to imitate them, but it appears you've chosen wrong, because Isolde titters and hides her mouth behind a napkin. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "lordlockwoodmeetii">>

<<nobr>><<if $intelligence gte 45>> You've dabbled in books about court intrigue before—didn't one of the characters narrowly avoid social disaster by choosing the soup spoon instead of the entree spoon? <br><br> You go with what your memory tells you, and from the non-reactions of those around you, you surmise that you made the correct choice. <<else>> You've read a book about court intrigue before, but the details are fuzzy; it's been a long time, after all. Did a character avoid disaster by using a soup spoon, or a dessert spoon? <br><br> After a moment's hesitation, you choose one of the spoons—but it appears you've chosen wrong, because Isolde hides a titter behind her napkin. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "lordlockwoodmeetii">>

<<nobr>><<if $courage gte 50>> You just choose a fork and start eating your meal. Luckily, you do it so smoothly and confidently that no one even glances your way! You think you've gotten away with it—for now. <<else>> However, Auberon and Isolde are watching you far too closely for your bravado to obscure your actions. She hides a titter behind her napkin while he shakes his head in disgust. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "lordlockwoodmeetii">>

<<nobr>><<if $charisma gte 50>> "There are enough forks and spoons here to wall off the city," you joke, directing your comment to Lavinet. She glances up, sees you looking at her, and then subtly signals to her fourth-left spoon and second-right fork. You pick up the correct utensils, and she smiles mischievously. <br><br> There are a few light chuckles from Pendric and Clara at your joke, but otherwise no one gives you a second glance. <<else>> "Say, Lavinet, which forks am I supposed to use?" The question comes out too loud and abrasive, and Tallys looks up from her meal while Briony winces. <br><br> Lavinet, looking over to you, says in a quiet voice, "It's your fourth-left spoon and your second-right fork, darling." <br><br> Isolde hides a titter behind her napkin. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "lordlockwoodmeetii">>

It's not long into the meal before the questions begin. It starts innocuously enough: Pendric asks about your journey here, Clara asks if you've ever been to the town before. Lord Lockwood drills each of you, in turn, about your training backgrounds, the circumstances of your births, what kind of weapons or powers you use. How the Shepherds typically operate, who's in charge, how many times any of you have met with the Autarch or the Inquisitors. How many high-born names you know, if you have any deeper connections in Haven or beyond. Then Auberon jumps in and begins to ask you about your credentials: what do you think the problem here actually is? Can't you make an educated guess, or are you no better than the mercenaries? What kind of expertise do you bring to the table? What makes you think you're qualified to handle this problem when an army of hired fighters couldn't? <<nobr>><<if $facelesslordsdead is 1>> <<set $numberoffacelesslordsdead to "one">> <<elseif $facelesslordsdead is 2>> <<set $numberoffacelesslordsdead to "two">> <<elseif $facelesslordsdead is 3>> <<set $numberoffacelesslordsdead to "three">> <<elseif $facelesslordsdead is 4>> <<set $numberoffacelesslordsdead to "four">> <<elseif $facelesslordsdead is 5>> <<set $numberoffacelesslordsdead to "five">> <</if>><</nobr>> <<nobr>><<if $brionyhate is false and $aylahate is false>> <br><br> Briony, Ayla, and Tallys immediately jump to your defense: Tallys explains in a hard tone your achievements, the past missions you've embarked on and the cases that you've solved. <br><br> <<include "teamdefend">> <<else>> <<if $courage gte 60 or $charisma gte 60 or $cunning gte 60>> <br><br> You fend off the barrage of questions capably, offering up the perfect answer each time. Auberon looks frustrated that you can parry off his attacks so well: no doubt he expected you to be a bumbling simpleton barely capable of stringing together two words. <br><br> <<include "auberoninterrogate">> <<else>> <br><br> You try to answer this barrage of questions as best as you can, but you find yourself fumbling and letting things slip. He's just too good at turning your words around, or hiding a subtle insult in an innocuous verbal package. Isolde smirks, while Lavinet looks ready to take someone's eyes out. The other nobles look distinctly unimpressed. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "auberoninterrogate">><<set $nobles -= 5>><</link>></center> <</if>> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $facelesslordsdead gt 0>> "<<c rank>> <<c surname>> has killed $numberoffacelesslordsdead out of the five strongest Endarkened known to exist on this plane," she says in a cold voice. "Such a thing has never been done before, certainly not by a single person. I think $she <<nobr>><<if $plural is true>>are<<else>>is<</if>><</nobr>> more than well-equipped to handle your little infestation." <</if>><</nobr>> "Don't forget countless other deeds," Briony adds, frowning at Auberon. "Saving the Mages of Capra, <<nobr>><<if $hunterjoin is true>> the Hunters of the Reach, <</if>><</nobr>> the gladiators in Heth Macoll…" "In short, $she could eat you for breakfast," Ayla finishes. There are murmurs from the other nobles as they exchange glances, looking deeply impressed—but Auberon looks a bit bored, as if he was listening to a child telling a fanciful and nonsensical tale. "I'm sure," he drawls. <<include "auberoninterrogate">>

"And how, may I ask," Isolde says, addressing you for the first time, "do we know that your intentions here are good and lawful? You are all Diminished, are you not? Why wouldn't you simply want us to all be devoured by these dark-hearted beasts? We are Norms, after all: the very people responsible for your people's oppression. How do we know you aren't simply here to ensure our enemy's campaign is… successful, and be rid of us all?" Clara gasps, and Lavinet goes white with fury. Even Lord Lockwood looks disapproving—and worse still, Briony looks about ready to stab Isolde with her fork. Ayla makes a low growling sound, and Tallys goes very, very still. You need to diffuse this situation, fast. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I am a Shepherd. I have devoted my life to protecting others and defending the innocent. Even if they are unpleasant and crass."' 'blanche'>><<setloyal +1>><<setcunning +1>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setorder +1>><<setcourage +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"We have Norm Shepherds as well as Diminished. Our mission is noble and our ranks are inclusive and diverse. We don\'t consider such things in our fight against the Endarkened."' 'wehave6norm'>><<set $nobles += 5>><<setreputation +1>><<setloyal +5>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setorder +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"My family was killed by the Endarkened. I\'d rather die than do anything to help them."' 'myfamily6was'>><<setcourage +1>><<setcompassionate -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I have many Norm friends and don\'t hold the conflicts of the past against them."' 'ihave6many'>><<set $nobles -= 1>><<setcharisma -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"The thought never occurred to any of us. Only a truly evil person would interpret it in those terms, I think."' 'blanche'>><<setcharisma +3>><<setcunning +3>><<setlavinet +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You really think we traveled all the way here just to fail on purpose? If that was what we wanted, we would have just stayed in Haven and let your enemies do the work for us." ' 'youreally6thinkwetravelled'>><<setloyal -5>><<setcourage +3>><<setcharisma -3>><<set $nobles -= 5>><</link>></li> <<if $auberonknow is true>><li><<link '"Do you really believe that, or are you just trying to get back at Lavinet because your fiance wanted her and not you?"' 'doyou6really'>><<setcunning +3>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setlavinet -5>><<set $nobles += 3>><</link>></li><</if>> </ul>

It's the perfect response, delivered calmly and sincerely. Isolde purses her lips, but says nothing more. <<include "auberoninterrogatei">>

A stricken silence falls over the table; Lavinet looks mortified, while her father looks more interested or sympathetic. Isolde seems pitiless, but after a moment, she nods tightly. <<include "auberoninterrogatei">>

Isolde makes a humming sound, her fan making lazy twirls in the air. She seems unconvinced. "Indeed." <<include "auberoninterrogatei">>

Isolde blanches in rage at your implication, but she seems to be shocked speechless at the same time. Clara stares down at the napkin in her lap, and Pendric seems to hide a smile behind his hand. <<include "auberoninterrogatei">>

There are a few gasps around the room as the nobles take in your pitiless response; Lord Lockwood shoots a look at Lavinet, as if to say, <i>Do you see?</i>, while Isolde looks triumphant. <<include "auberoninterrogatei">>

Pendric snorts into his bowl of soup while Clara looks scandalized. Isolde looks livid, and her hands twitch on the tabletop as if she wants to strike you—and at the end of the table, Lavinet also looks deeply annoyed. Belatedly you remember that she asked you to keep that knowledge a secret. Whoops. <<include "auberoninterrogatei">>

Auberon regains control of the conversation then, leaning over the table to stare into your eyes. "And what about your powers?" he asks silkily. "Forgive our curiosity, but we 'ristos have been brought up in the cradle of nobility, far from exposure to… magic, or Diminished abilities. You say you're a Mage, correct?" He glances around at the table, smirking. "Why, I don't believe I've ever seen even a mote of a spell being performed, not even by street charlatans. I hear such fantastical stories—conjuring things from thin air, calling light and fire out of the sky… and I hardly know what to believe. To tell the truth, you seem like figures stepped out of a fairytale. Doesn't that sound terribly ignorant?" "Yes, it does," Tallys grits out. "Diminished are around you every day—or they should be. We are not myths or <i>fairytales</i>." Auberon ignores her. He leans forward, even closer to you; his voice lowers into an intimate tone, as if he's addressing a friend. "Couldn't you show us a little of what you can do? I think that would set our concerns at ease. After all, how can we trust in your competence if we have no real idea of your capabilities? If you could give us a demonstration…" He trails off meaningfully; and beside him, Isolde nods. You glance around the table: Lavinet looks anxious, her father looks neutral, and Pendric and all of the nobles behind him look avidly curious. Didn't she say you have to impress them all and win their support? "I'm not sure if I believe a word of it, love," Isolde says then, spreading her fan across her face and laughing softly. The sound itself is somehow an insult. "I don't think these people are strong enough to combat the monsters—I don't see why we should trust them with our lives. I doubt they could even make a wart fall off." The air around you seems to grow hotter; beside you, you see all three of your teammates' eyes sparking. You need to do something, now. <<include "fightmaybe">>

<ul class="choices"> <<if $magic gte 30>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Scare the nobles by conjuring the illusion of fire on their plates.</div>' 'scarethe6nobles'>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setlavinet -3>><<setayla +3>><<set $aylaromanceflag += 1>><<setloyal -5>><<setmagic +1>><<setpsionic +1>><<set $nobles -= 10>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Scare the nobles by conjuring the illusion of fire on their plates.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $magic gte 30>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Entertain them by creating the illusion of songbirds and butterflies.</div>' 'entertainthem6bycre'>><<set $nobles += 5>><<setpsionic +1>><<setmagic +1>><<setloyal -5>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Entertain them by creating the illusion of songbirds and butterflies.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link 'Smile nervously. "Maybe some other time."' 'smilenervously6maybe'>><<set $nobles -= 3>><<setcourage -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Stand abruptly. "I won\'t have my abilities questioned by two idiots. Do you want to fetch your dueling pistols, or will you be quiet?"' 'standabruptly6iwont'>><<setlavinet -5>><<if $gender is "male">><<set $lavinetromanceflag -= 1>><</if>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setcourage +3>><<setintelligence -1>><<setcunning -1>><<setcharisma -1>><<setstrength +1>><</link>></li> <<if $loyal gte 55>><li><<link 'Regard them calmly. "Performing magic in a circumstance not related to demon-fighting is illegal according to the laws of the Autarchy."' 'regardthem6calmly'>><<set $nobles += 5>><<setloyal +5>><<setlavinet +3>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("lookto6tallys")>><li><<link 'Look to Tallys, Briony, and Ayla for direction.' 'lookto6tallys'>><<settallys +1>><<setayla +1>><<setbriony +1>><<setloyal +5>><</link>></li><</if>> </ul>

Isolde screams high enough to crack glass as the food on her plate suddenly erupts into flame. Auberon jumps back, startled—and you notice for the first time how his gloved hand flies to the thin dagger at his hip. You smile at them slowly as the golden, heatless flames lick higher. "Convinced now?" Lord Lockwood stands abruptly. "<<c rank>> <<c surname>>!" he shouts in a stern voice. "I must ask you to stop that immediately! Magic is still illegal, even within these walls!" You let the flames disappear in an instant, but the damage is done. Isolde is escorted out of the room, flustered and angry, and Auberon stalks out after her. You meet Lavinet's eyes across the table, and she looks disappointed in you. Lord Lockwood is furious. Ayla, however, grins. "That was awesome." <<include "fightmaybei">>

The smell of spun sugar fills the room as twittering songbirds descend from the rafters, swooping over Isolde's head and making her shriek. A shimmering, iridescent-winged butterfly lands on Clara's shoulder, and she gasps in awe. Lord Lockwood flinches away from a fluting bird, but otherwise looks intrigued by the illusion. Auberon appears annoyed that all of the other nobles seem delighted by your display. Eventually you wave your hand, and the birds and butterflies dissolve into sweet-smelling mist. "Satisfied?" The aristocrat looks away and says nothing. <<include "fightmaybei">>

Auberon spreads his hands. "Why not now?" he purrs. But you don't answer, and eventually the conversation moves on. <<include "fightmaybei">>

Briony's mouth falls open, and Isolde looks positively alarmed. Lord Lockwood, however, looks livid. Auberon draws a hand towards his waistband, where a thin dagger is strapped to his belt. There's a screech of wood against marble as Lavinet stands abruptly and her chair is shoved backwards. "<<c firstname>>," she says firmly. "No violence is permitted in this household. Ever. Sit <i>down</i>." You glance at the others, and to your surprise, Tallys is glaring at you, too. She jerks her head towards your chair. You sit, reluctantly, and Auberon smirks. "There's a good dog." Your gut simmers with anger, and you clench your fist hard enough that your nails leave bright red crescents in your palm. It only helps a little. There's a tense silence all around as everyone awaits your reaction—but when you remain silent, eventually the conversation moves on. Lavinet doesn't look at you for the rest of the meal. <<include "fightmaybei">>

Auberon arches an elegant brow. "Surely this is something that can be circumvented, if a member of the nobility grants you permission?" he nudges. You stare back at him. "Not even you are powerful enough to override the Autarch's laws. Or do you say otherwise?" No one has a reply to that. Auberon looks dissatisfied while Lavinet looks relieved. But he says nothing more, and gradually the conversation moves on. <<include "fightmaybei">>

Tallys shakes her head imperceptibly, while Ayla nods vigorously. Briony mouths, <i>They're being so stupid and horrible!</i> <<include "fightmaybe">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "fightmaybeii">><</link>></center>

You make your way through the rest of the grueling dinner, then dessert: chocolate mousse with berries, served in tiny glasses so small that your spoon doesn't totally fit in one. Lord Lockwood still seems reluctant to speak with you freely, but he is at least begrudgingly accepting of your presence in his estate. He excuses himself shortly after the meal is done without saying another word to you. You spend the rest of the time conversing with Pendric and Clara, then a few other nobles who make their way over to pay obeisance to Lavinet. And then, finally, it's over. After the servants clear away the dishes, Lavinet hurries over to you and says, "I'll have the butlers bring breakfast to your rooms so you can start your investigation early tomorrow. I think this is it for me for tonight: my father's retired to his rooms for the evening, and Lady Summerfield's invited many of us for a few games of whist in her parlor." She hesitates for a split second before giving you her winning smile. "What will you do now?" The implication is clear: whatever parlor games are being attended by the young lords and ladies, you have not been invited. You wonder if they'll take this opportunity to talk about you, with either cautious praise or vicious criticism. You look around at Briony, Tallys, and Ayla, who await your direction. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I think we should all go to bed and get some rest, so we can be fresh tomorrow."' 'ithink6we'>><<set $health to 100>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I think we should patrol the city walls tonight. If these mysterious beings have been visiting nightly, we should see if we can confront them sooner rather than later."' 'ithink6weshould'>><<setcourage +1>><<setloyal +1>><<set $nobles += 3>><</link>></li> <<if ($specialization is "diviner" and $psionic gte 50) or $psionic gte 65>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Pretend to go to bed, but spy on the parlor games from your room.</div>' 'pretendto6gotobed'>><<setcunning +5>><<setloyal -3>><<setpsionic +7>><<setmagic +1>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Pretend to go to bed, but spy on the parlor games from your room.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> </ul>

Lavinet nods. "I think that sounds like a wonderful idea." She curtsies deeply. "Good night, all. We'll talk again tomorrow." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "nextmorninggg">><</link>></center>

Lavinet arches a brow. "They may not come tonight," she cautions. "It tends to be sporadic, their pattern. And it will be cold out on the walls." You shake your head. "It's our jobs." She lays a gloved hand on your shoulder. "You are very dedicated, darling," she says, smiling affectionately. "It's very… admirable." Then she shrugs. "If you insist, I'll send hot chocolate and khav to you later in the night." Behind you, Briony sighs. "To the outer walls, then." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "ithink6weshouldi">><</link>></center>

You head to Lockwood's outer wall, noticing how all the streets are quiet and dark now. The moons have hidden their faces tonight, so you use torches to make your way down from the estate. Briony looks around and murmurs, "I hope those refugees we saw outside are within the city walls now." "They must be," Ayla answers. "I bet they stay in their tents during the day, and then hole up in inns or with nicer citizens at night in case of an attack." "It does seem to be an organized effort," Tallys allows. Her breath steams in the wintry air. "Let's hope they won't have to live this way for much longer." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "ithink6weshouldii">><</link>></center>

When you reach the walls, the captain of the guard gives you a puzzled look, but tips his helmet and says, "Paying for yourselves already, I see. Well, have at it, but we haven't seen nothin' tonight." Ayla posts up on the west wall, Tallys on the north, Briony on the east, and yourself on the south, looking in the direction of distant Haven. You scan the darkness beyond the walls, which is so impenetrable it's almost frightening; if you hadn't arrived just today, you would have thought this place was birthed out of an abyss that drops all the way to the center of the earth. It gives you a sense of déjà vu, but you're not sure why… <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "ithink6weshouldiii">><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<if ($brionyhate is false and $briony gte $ayla) and $briony gte $tallys>> After a few hours of huddling and warming your hands in the cold, staring out at dark nothing, Briony suddenly appears on your side of the battlements, hugging herself and shivering violently. <br><br> "I drank some of the khav Lavi sent and now I'm jittery <i>and</i> cold," she whispers, drawing up to you and blowing into her hands. "Have you seen anything?" <br><br> You shake your head. "Not a thing." <br><br> "Well, she did say they don't turn up every night," Briony murmurs. "Odd that they would avoid this place the day we come here, though. Do you think they somehow know about our arrival?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I wouldn\'t discount anything."' 'mmbriony6says'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"That seems unlikely. All of the townspeople are locked up in the city. Who could tell them about us?"' 'mmbriony6says'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"No idea. Too cold to think about it."' 'mmbriony6says'>><<setintelligence -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"They know somehow. I feel it."' 'mmbriony6says'>><</link>></li> </ul> <<elseif ($aylahate is false and $ayla gte $tallys) and $ayla gte $briony>> After a few hours of huddling and shivering in the cold, staring out at dark nothing, Ayla strolls over to your side of the battlements. <br><br> "Haven't seen shit," she says, seemingly unaffected by the cold as she flips her cloak over her shoulder. "And it's getting closer to dawn. I doubt they'll come tonight." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'You nod. "We\'ll stay a few more minutes, then go back to the estate."' 'younod6well'>><<setloyal -1>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'You shake your head. "We stay until sunrise."' 'youshake6your'>><<setloyal +1>><<setstrength +1>><</link>></li> </ul> <<elseif $tallys gte $ayla and $tallys gte $briony>> After a few hours of huddling and shivering in the cold, staring out at dark nothing, Tallys appears on your side of the battlements. "I've seen nothing," she murmurs, drawing up to your side. "And it's approaching dawn. If those creatures are out there, I doubt they're going to show themselves tonight." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Nod. "We\'ll stay a few more minutes, then head back inside."' 'tallysshrugs6you'>><<setloyal -1>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Shake your head. "Can\'t take any chances. We stay until sunrise."' 'tallysshrugs6you'>><<setloyal +1>><<setstrength +1>><</link>></li> </ul> <<else>> <<include "nightnighti">> <</if>><</nobr>>

"Mm," Briony says, hopping on her feet. She smiles apologetically. "Sorry, I'm just now realizing that Nathe was probably right about my Elvish blood—my body's not happy in this cold. I hope Tallys is all right." She blows into her hands again. "If we haven't seen anything, and it's getting closer to dawn—should we stay out here, or…?" <<include "brionypatrol">>

"Darn," Briony mutters. Then she grins at you. "That's fair. We'll be good little soldiers tonight." <<include "thenshe6suddenly">>

"The town guard will alert us if anything happens," Briony agrees. "Thank the gods. I thought I might become an ice block before morning." <<include "thenshe6suddenly">>

<<nobr>><<if $heritage is "Elf">> She shakes her head, grinning. "That's kind, but don't act like you're any different." She nods her head towards your half-pointed ears. "If you can deal with it, so can I. If you stay, I stay." <<include "brionypatrol">> <<else>> She shakes her head, grinning. "That's kind, but there's no way I'd be able to sleep knowing you were still out here. I can stay. But what's the plan?" <<include "brionypatrol">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $briony gte 65 or $brionyromanceflag gte 9>> Then she suddenly eyes your cloak. "Scoot over," she says playfully, dodging her way under your arm and snuggling up against your side. "You look warm, and I think I might die if I'm exposed to this much longer." <br><br> She makes herself comfortable under your cloak, tucked up right against your shoulder. She even winds her arm around yours, shivering. Her pink hair tickles your nose, imparting that now-familiar scent of almond blossoms and something like honey. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Allow her to stay, purely out of kindness.' 'allowher6to'>><<setbriony +1>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>></li> <<if $charisma lte 35>><li><<link 'Allow her to stay because you feel too awkward to do otherwise.' 'allowher6tostay'>><<setcharisma -3>><<setcourage -3>><<setbriony -3>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link 'Put a friendly arm around her shoulders. "Here, warm up."' 'puta6friendly'>><<set $brionyromanceflag += 1>><<setbriony +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Huddle against her playfully. "Warm me up too! We need to share body heat!"' 'huddleagainst6her'>><<set $brionyromanceflag += 2>><<setbriony +8>><</link>></li> <<if $brionyromanceflag gte 9>><li><<link 'Pull her closer in an intimate embrace. <b>[FLIRT]</b>' 'pullher6closer'>><<set $brionyromanceflag += 5>><<setbriony +3>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link 'Pull away. "No."' 'pullaway6no'>><<setbriony -10>><<set $brionyromanceflag to 0>><</link>></li> </ul> <<else>> <<include "nightnight">> <</if>><</nobr>>

"Thanks," Briony says in a cheerful way, apparently thinking nothing at all of your sudden closeness. "I'll be here for a few minutes, and then I'll leave, I swear." <<include "nightnight">>

Briony senses your stiffness and draws back instantly, looking up into your face with a concerned expression. "Oh no. Sorry, did I make you uncomfortable?" She hastily untangles herself from your cloak and looks at you, blushing. "Er, sorry—the cold's gotten to my head. It won't happen again!" Before you can say anything else, she spins on her heel and hurries away, the dark swallowing up her small figure in an instant. <<include "nightnight">>

"Thanks," Briony says eagerly, seeming to find nothing strange at all about this casual display of closeness and affection. She huddles against your side comfortably, and you spend the rest of your shift in warm and companionable silence. <<include "nightnight">>

Briony gives a tiny, playful scream against your shoulder. "I know!" You spend the rest of your shift crammed together, laughing and joking to keep the cold at bay. <<include "nightnight">>

Briony laughs, a little breathlessly, before allowing you to wrap your arms around her. She looks up at you from beneath her eyelashes, practically glowing with health and vigor despite the dark night. "Here," she says, grabbing your chilled hands playfully. "Feel how cold my cheeks are!" She brings your hands up to cup her round face, her own hands still on your wrists as she holds your palms against her pink, icy cheeks. She looks at you, smiling. "Cold, right?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Blush. "Erm, yeah. Cold..."' 'blusherm6yeah'>><<set $brionyromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Lean closer. "I can warm you up." <b>[FLIRT]</b>' 'leancloser6ican'>><<set $brionyromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Stare at her lips. <b>[FLIRT]</b>' 'stareat6brionylips'>><<set $brionyromanceflag += 3>><</link>></li> </ul>

She looks up into your face, cocking her head. "Is something wrong?" <<include "seeanything6question">>

Briony blinks up into your face. "Oh, yeah? How?" she breathes, playing curious and innocent—but somehow you think she knows exactly what you mean. A little quirk at the corner of her mouth confirms your suspicions, and her eyes dance with a mischievous light. <<include "seeanything6question">>

Briony blushes, but she doesn't move away as she stares in a slightly dreamy way up into your face. "What is it?" she whispers. She bites her lip, and you allow your eyes to wander up to her nose, with its sprinkling of freckles, and then to her violet eyes… <<include "seeanything6question">>

"See anything?" Briony jumps and whirls to confront the guard who's suddenly materialized at the end of the wall. "Oh!" she squeaks. Then she lets out a high laugh. "Um, no! Nothing to report here!" He squints at you suspiciously, and Briony hastily breaks away. "We were just talking! I'm going back to my wall, now!" She hurries away into the dark, swallowed by the night before you can say anything more. The guard wanders off, grumbling something under his breath about "unprofessional" "canoodling." <<include "nightnight">>

Briony's face instantly falters, and she pulls away as well. "Oh," she says awkwardly. "Sorry, I—" Then she shakes her head. "Never mind. I'm sorry—it won't happen again." She turns on her heel and marches away from you, shoulders as straight and stiff as someone being marched to the gallows. The night swallows her, and you don't exchange another word for the rest of your shift. <<include "nightnight">>

She nods. "Sounds good." <<include "thenshe6glances">>

Ayla sighs. "Fine." <<include "thenshe6glances">>

<<nobr>><<if $ayla gte 70 or $aylaromanceflag gte 7>> Then she glances at you and cocks her head. "You cold?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'You shake your head. "No. My legs are asleep."' 'youshake6yourhead'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'You shiver. "A little."' 'shesteps6closer'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'You nod. "Freezing my arse off."' 'shesteps6closer'>><<setayla +3>><</link>></li> </ul> <<else>> <<include "nightnight">> <</if>><</nobr>>

"Oh," Ayla says. "That sucks." She turns around and heads back the way she came. <<include "nightnight">>

She steps closer to you and unceremoniously flings her cloak over your shoulders, drawing you closer to her. Her body is like a line of fire against your side. "Here," she mutters, looking away. "Cold doesn't bother me." <<nobr>><<if $aylaromanceflag gte 9>> <br><br> You glance at her, and you notice how there are small freckles on her face, imperceptible from a distance. And her eyes are like liquid amber, with gold flecks around the pupil. She stares back at you, suddenly intense. Warmth radiates from her skin like a furnace. <</if>><</nobr>> <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Pull away.' 'nightnight'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Lean into her warmth. "Thanks."' 'leaninto6her'>><<set $aylaromanceflag += 1>><<setayla +3>><</link>></li> <<if $aylaromanceflag gte 9>><li><<link 'Look at her lips. <b>[FLIRT]</b>' 'lookat6aylalips'>><<set $aylaromanceflag += 5>><</link>></li><</if>> </ul>

Ayla smiles and nudges you. "Don't get used to it. People got to pay me if they want to be cuddling up." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"That makes you sound like a prostitute."' 'thatmakes6you'>><<setayla +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'ll keep that in mind."' 'illkeep6that'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Deep down, I know you\'re generous."' 'deepdown6iknow'>><<setayla +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"What\'d I do to deserve this generosity?"' 'whatdi6do'>><</link>></li> </ul>

"And, so?" Ayla asks bluntly. "They make good money, you know. If I could get anyone to pay for my ugly mug, I'd probably think about it." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"You\'re not ugly. You\'re beautiful."' 'yourenot6ugly'>><<set $aylaromanceflag += 3>><<setayla +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Very cosmopolitan of you."' 'verycosmopolitan6of'>><</link>></li> </ul>

She looks away. "Ach." She doesn't say anything more, but she seems pleased. At some point she puts an affectionate arm around your shoulders and squeezes. <<include "nightnight">>

"Haven must be rubbing off on me," Ayla says in a friendly manner. You stand in warm, companionable silence for the rest of your shift. <<include "nightnight">>

"Do that," Ayla answers, more friendly than usual. You stand in warm, companionable silence for the rest of your shift. <<include "nightnight">>

She looks away, scowling. "Am not," she mutters. "I'm a scoundrel and a bitch, friend. Don't you forget that." But she seems inordinately pleased, and you spend the rest of the shift in warm, companionable silence. At some point she puts an affectionate arm around your shoulders and squeezes. <<include "nightnight">>

"You looked pathetic, standing there shivering," Ayla answers cheerfully. "Couldn't help but take pity on you." She shoots you a grin, and you stand in warm, companionable silence for the rest of your shift. <<include "nightnight">>

Ayla seems to stiffen, as if knows exactly what you're thinking. However, she doesn't move, her amber eyes boring into yours. Is her face getting closer, or are you leaning towards her?… "See anything?" Ayla jumps and curses, spinning around to address the young town guard who's come to check on you. "<i>Kisich</i>! Don't sneak up like that!" "Oh," the guard mutters. "Sorry. I, uh, thought you people could hear better than us." "'You people?'" Ayla looks at you and rolls her eyes, though you think she might be blushing. "Typical. I'm going back to my post." She hurries away before you can say anything else, disappearing into the night. The guard mutters an apology and slinks away. <<include "nightnight">>

Tallys shrugs. "You are team leader." <<nobr>><<if $tallyssex is true>> <br><br> You stand there for a moment, looking out together into the dark. You note that Tallys is rubbing her arms, as if cold. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Grab her hand.' 'tallysnono'>><<set $tallysromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Reach to pull her close to you.' 'tallysnono'>><<set $tallysromanceflag += 2>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Let her be.' 'aheavy6silence'>><</link>></li> </ul> <<else>> <<include "youstand6there">> <</if>><</nobr>>

She smiles at you fondly, giving your knuckles a brief kiss. "I am sorry if I seem distracted tonight, <i>elan</i>," she says gently. "I am not feeling particularly amorous at the moment. Too many prying eyes around. And my nerves have been tangled ever since we came here." She reaches up to brush her fingers along your cheek. "It's not you. I just… don't feel comfortable here." <<include "aheavy6silence">>

A heavy silence falls between you. <<include "youstand6there">>

<<nobr>><<if $tallys gte 65>> You stand there for a long time, not speaking to each other and lost in your own thoughts. <<include "tallyspatrol">> <<else>> <<include "nightnight">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Tallys laughs lightly. "We are," she acknowledges. <<nobr>><<if $heritage is "Elf">> "I'm rather surprised you're not feeling its effects, either—but perhaps your blood works in a different way." She shakes her head. <<else>> "Elves can become sluggish and lethargic in extreme cold—some may even fall into comas, if exposed for long enough. But this is nowhere close to that temperature. I wouldn't have come here if I thought there was that risk." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "tallyspatrol">>

She smiles bitterly. "You mean, considering the fact that I must now protect the very people who doomed my family, or directly benefited from their demise?" she asks. "And not only that, they seem to expect me to beg for their approval, and tolerate their insults as if I don't understand them—like a lapdog?" <<include "umyes">>

<ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Exactly that, yes."' 'shesighs6and'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Um... yes?"' 'shesighs6and'>><</link>></li> <<if $compassionate gte 70>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"You sound like you need a hug."</div>' 'shesighs6and'>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">"You sound like you need a hug."</div>'>><<set $hug to true>><</link>><</if>> </ul>

She sighs and turns to face you. "I am sorry if I'm making this mission difficult for you, <<c firstname>>," she says softly. "I thought I could stay civilized. I thought—" She turns away again. "I do not wish to be a burden. But I can't force myself to smile at them without wanting to…" She trails off, rather ominously. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Touch her shoulder. "Hey. You could never be a burden."' 'tallyslikey'>><<set $tallysromanceflag += 1>><<settallys +3>><<if $hug is true>><<settallys +3>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Pat her on the back. "I think you\'re doing great."' 'tallyslikey'>><<settallys +3>><<if $hug is true>><<settallys +3>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Sigh. "Yeah, you are making things pretty awkward. But we\'ll manage."' 'sighyeah6you'>><<settallys -5>><<set $tallysromanceflag -= 5>><</link>></li> <<if ($tallyssex is true or $tallys gte 70) or $compassionate gte 70>><li><<link '"Just tell me if there\'s anything I can do to help. I\'m here for you."' 'tallyslikey'>><<setcompassionate +5>><<set $tallysromanceflag += 2>><<settallys +3>><<if $hug is true>><<settallys +3>><</if>><</link>></li><</if>> </ul>

She smiles at you. "Thank you, my friend." <<nobr>><<if $hug is true>> She pauses. "I'll take that hug, if it's still on offer." <br><br> You pull her in, and Tallys leans against your shoulder and sighs. <</if>><</nobr>> You spend the rest of the night in companionable silence. <<include "nightnight">>

Tallys says nothing more for the rest of the night. <<include "nightnight">>

"Oh, did I?" Tallys laughs humorlessly. <<include "whoatally">>

Tallys stirs. "It's nothing," she says after a moment. "It's just…" She frowns. "I almost wonder if these attacks are what they seem. What if they're not just beings that appeared out of nowhere?" "What do you mean?" you ask. She turns to you. "What if they're merely the tools of people who would like to see Lockwood fail?" she asks. "Political enemies of the Naveens, directing soldiers or mercenaries to dress up and frighten their citizens—even drive them to other fiefdoms? And what if this campaign is succeeding because someone within the estate itself knows its exact movements, its plans to counteract these enemies?" "You're talking about one of the other nobles," you say then. "You think one of them could be behind this? A subtle way of waging war on the Naveens…" She nods. "And perhaps that is another reason why they're so hostile to our arrival. We are the key to revealing that this could all be a sham. And the people who demonstrate the most enmity towards us…" "…are Isolde and Auberon," you say. "Who also happen to hate Lavinet and would love to see her humiliated." "Or even killed," Tallys says grimly. "By these supernatural beings, of course. Just another reason to blame our kind." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"That\'s a dark theory."' 'thatsa6dark'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"That\'s clever. I never would have considered that possibility."' 'thatsclever6inever'>><</link>></li> <<if $intelligence gte 50>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I already considered this myself."</div>' 'ialready6considered'>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">"I already considered this myself."</div>'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link '"I think this is too far-fetched. The simpler answer is that things are exactly as they seem."' 'ithink6this'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Tallys shrugs. "This is a dark place," she says, gesturing all around you. "You can see it: there are no friendships here, no real kindnesses or trust. It all looks very pretty, but… like a rose garden, this place is full of thorns." <<include "nightnight">>

Tallys laughs, without humor. "I don't like to think this way," she says softly. "But I don't trust any of these people worth a penny. We must be on our guard, and consider all scenarios." You nod, and she lapses into contemplative silence after that. <<include "nightnight">>

"Did you?" Tallys asks dryly. "Interesting how you never brought it up." You shrug. "I figured it was better to gather more information, before jumping to conclusions." Tallys makes a humming sound, one half of agreement. Then she descends into contemplative silence for the rest of the night. <<include "nightnight">>

Tallys looks away from you. "Nothing is ever exactly what it seems," she mutters. "Especially when it comes to Norm nobles. The Autarch's people." She descends into silence again after that. <<include "nightnight">>

"I'm quite tired," you begin, yawning. "I think we should go to bed and rest up for tomorrow." Lavinet makes a deep curtsy. "I think that sounds like an excellent idea," she murmurs. "Well, then. Tomorrow." Briony makes her own clumsy curtsy while Ayla nods. "Tomorrow," you all chorus. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "pretendto6gotobedi">><</link>></center>

You slip back to your rooms and get dressed and ready for bed, giving the nobles time to set up in their parlor. Generally, it's difficult for you to scry on places you haven't been to, but you've got a handle on the layout of the estate, and you think you'll be able to find your way. Divination and scrying are much clearer when you can use a focus, something to anchor your concentration to. You decide to use… <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'The polished brass disk that you always carry in your pack.' 'ittakes6several'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'The mirror-like washbasin of water by the sink.' 'ittakes6several'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'The silver-lined, hand-held mirror that you\'ve had for years.' 'ittakes6several'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Nothing. You\'ll close your eyes and manifest the visions through sheer concentration and will.' 'ittakes6several'>><</link>></li> </ul>

It takes several minutes of concentrating and casting out your mind, like a fisherman patiently casting and reeling in many invisible lines. Eventually a tendril of your consciousness brushes against an unfamiliar door—beyond, you hear faint snatches of music and laughter—and then you push your mind through. It feels as if you are floating, but also unspeakably heavy. Your head sways on your neck. Then: success! The picture behind the door unfurls before you like an unrolled tapestry. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span><i>Step into the parlor...</i></span></div></div>' "ittakes6severali">><</link>></center>

The first thing you see is smoke. It's difficult to differentiate between the normal light-bloom haze of scrying and the amount of actual charch smoke in the air, but eventually you piece things together. There are about two-dozen young nobles gathered in this spacious parlor, all in states of relaxed repose. In one corner, a group of young men languorously puff on cigarettes as they gather in fervent conversation. On the other end of the room, other aristocrats—primarily women—play cards at a round table in prim, upright silence. A few suzerains who look like twins plunk discordantly away at a plinith in the center of the room while two tiny dogs sing-howl at their feet. One lady—the hostess of the event, you deduce—sits with a grimace, sketching out the whole scene on an artist's pad. You allow your mind to wander around the room, catching brief melting murmurs of the conversation; you imagine yourself as a phantom figure, standing behind the nobles and making them shiver, though you are really more in the perspective of an invisible bird flying overhead. The wingflaps of your mind can't be heard anywhere. <<include "scrying">>

<ul class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("checkon6the")>><<link '<div class="question-item">Check on the group of aristocrats smoking.</div>' 'checkon6the'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("checkon6thegroup")>><<link '<div class="question-item">Check on the group of aristocrats playing cards.</div>' 'checkon6thegroup'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("checkon6hostess")>><<link '<div class="question-item">Check on the hostess of the party. </div>' 'checkon6hostess'>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link 'There\'s nothing else to see here.' 'theresnothing6else'>><</link>></li> </ul>

You can't smell anything while scrying, but you imagine the air is thick with the scents of cologne as well as lemon verbena, lavender, and vanilla—the common flavors of after-dinner charch for the upper class. The young nobles are relaxed over couches and armchairs and talking fervently about… you. <<nobr>><<if $nobles gte 65>> "They're not so bad, actually," one young man with curly blond locks says. "I was expecting a savage bunch of heathens, perhaps ready to spit on us and curse us for the misfortune our ancestors have placed them in. But they are, by and large, quite polite. Charming, even. That pink-haired warrior is quite something…" <br><br> "They're all lovely," another dark-eyed man murmurs. "Although the dark-skinned Elf looks like she'd rather rip your tongue off and feed it to you if you ever addressed her directly…" <br><br> "Keep it in your pants, the both of you," a third, more serious and sharply-dressed noble retorts. "I don't expect Lady Lavinet would be happy about the idea of you making advances on the officers she called here." <br><br> "Ah, but that's the thing, isn't it, Rhun?" the first man says with a laugh. "They're officers, not servants. They're free to do whatever they like, and not even good old Lavi can stop them. When did we start calling her Lady Lavinet, anyway? Still got that schoolboy crush on her?" <br><br> Rhun huffs and looks away, and the men continue talking and laughing. <br><br> Another says: "That leader of theirs seems competent. Good head on $her shoulders, at least so far." <br><br> "Yes," the blond one—Lord Nemian, you think—acknowledges. "<<c rank>> <<c surname>> has proved a surprise. I only hope <<print $she>>'ll live up to expectations. If not…" <br><br> "If not, Lady Lavinet's reputation will be ruined," Rhun says, his voice now anxious. <br><br> The men shake their heads. "Quite a gamble she took, turning to the Shepherds," another says. "Not the Vice Guard, not the Inquisitors… it's quite a statement. Nobles of the Autarchy extending our… regard to this new order. Giving them a chance to prove themselves. If they can do it, God bless them. If not, she marks herself as a Diminished-lover, and a needless one at that. Lord Lockwood will have no choice but to send her away somewhere, out of sight. Let the younger sisters take over." <br><br> "I don't know why you're all so concerned about her <i>reputation</i>. Yes, she gambled with it, but she's also gambling with our lives. If these Shepherds fail, or even make things worse, that could mean all of us dead." <br><br> "No, not dead. They haven't made a move against us, not in a way that really counts. They wouldn't dare." <br><br> "Who's 'they', anyway?…" <br><br> The conversation continues for a while before Rhun says abruptly, "I believe they can do it. I place my hopes on <<c rank>> <<c surname>> and $her team." <br><br> The others raise their glasses. "I suppose I will, too," Nemian says glumly—and he throws back his drink like he's toasting his own funeral. <<include "scrying">> <<else>> "It's worse than I thought," one young man says, peering glumly into the cheery hearth. "They're savages. Barely able to keep their manners and not, what, start brawling at the dinner table, hurling plates. The way the Jalis one eats…" He shakes his head. "Why did I ever think Diminished could be capable of protecting us, let alone uncovering this great mystery?" <br><br> "They talk, at least," another says sullenly. "I'd always been under the impression that they couldn't speak our language. Some, maybe, if they applied themselves and learned…" <br><br> "What did you think it was called Common for?" <br><br> "I never thought twice about it. I thought they all spoke Gnommish." <br><br> "It's <i>Elvish</i>. For the Elves." <br><br> "Whichever. Whatever it is, I'm glad we can communicate, but what they <i>have</i> communicated has… disheartened me. And there are more like them, running around the Continent without any supervision?" <br><br> "Supposedly they're on the same footing as the Inquisitors. Ridiculous, isn't it?" <br><br> "Well, I have no love of the Inquisitors after what they did to my brother…" <br><br> "Ah. Quite." <br><br> "…But I admit, it makes me uneasy thinking of putting our lives in <i>their</i> hands. That pink-haired one could just as well burn this place down in her sleep—what do we need to wait around for the assailants outside the walls for? We've welcomed four more dangerous enemies into our midst… And the way the leader, the one with the $eyecolor eyes, looked at Lord Lockwood… it sent a chill down my spine. <<c she>> looked like $she wanted to kill him… or Auberon." <br><br> "Now, Lorio, let's not exaggerate. They haven't done anything yet." <br><br> "No, but mark my words. They may be agents sent in by The Enemy to spy in our midst, take us down from the inside. Why else would they act so inhospitably?" <br><br> "Perhaps because they sense they are not welcome here," one young man with blond curls drawls, ashing his cigarette in a fine ivory tray. "I'd like to see you smile and bow when walking into a place where even the servants stare at you like you have two heads. And at the agents' expense and time, traveling all the way here? Of course they'd be prickly. You would, too—or you would if you hadn't been raised with those inane princely manners." <br><br> "<i>Nemian</i>." <br><br> "What? I am <i>tired</i> of listening to him <i>natter</i>." <br><br> The conversation—more an argument—becomes more lively and abrasive: it seems some nobles are willing to wait and give your group a chance, while others are beginning to—or have already—written you off. The talk devolves into noise that you can't really parse through, earning annoyed looks from the ladies by the card table. <br><br> You've learned all you could here. <<include "scrying">> <</if>><</nobr>>

You drift over to the nobles playing cards: it looks to be a game of Intrigue, which involves all of them trading cards with each other rapidly, almost without speaking. If someone assembles a full hand from the cards they get from the other players, they'll attempt to take some of the chips stacked in a pile in the center of the table. Some may take them subtly one at a time, others may dive for the whole pile once they notice that the barrier has been lifted. You don't even want to know what one chip is worth: probably enough to pay the rent on a modest house in Ashtown for a year. The game goes on for a while, only the shuffling of the cards and the sounds of ice clinking in fine glasses pervading this side of the room. Finally, a slender young woman says: "How long do you think it will take the agents to resolve this matter?" "I say a sennight, at most." "Truly? I think they may give up within the sennight—but not that they will truly solve the case." "Oh, they must. We are going to miss the opening ball of the season, at this rate. Imagine the preparations in Sacor… and a tenth of the young nobles stuck here!" "If I have to look out at this town again from my window, I may scream." "My sister graduated from her finishing school, and I had to miss it." "Do you think it was like this for our ancestors, trapped in their castles for months under siege?" "God, no. Far less was happening at that time, dear. We must bear the sensation of missing so much more." "Do not take the One-God's name in vain, please." "It is a pity we are trapped here, Saina. The convent must miss you dearly." "If you would only pray for our salvation…" "Perhaps the One-God answered your prayers by sending us those Shepherds. Have you ever considered that? Perhaps they are Xer solution to our woes!" For some reason, the group bursts into a volley of laughter at that, and the sanctimonious young woman—who wears a necklace bearing the sign of the One-God—shrinks into herself, looking sullen. You linger for a while more, but not much of significance is said. <<include "scrying">>

You wander over to the center of the room, where the hostess of the party, Lady Summerfield, is knelt on the rich fur rug, her voluminous skirts spread wide. She seems to be sketching a picture of the party, but when you circle around to look at her drawing pad, you see that she is merely pantomiming busily: there's nothing on her paper but a faint outline of silhouettes and a lot of scribbles. Someone moves into your field of vision and sinks down onto the rug next to Lady Summerfield, making a show of rearranging the hostess's long brown curls for her. It's Lavinet, holding a flute of amber drink and looking very composed and cool. She murmurs, almost too soft for you to hear through the scrying: "How bad is it, my dear?" Lady Summerfield does not look up from her 'drawing.' "I don't know what you could have done differently, sweetling," she sighs after a moment, picking up a piece of different-colored graphite and adding some green lines to her abstract picture. "You acted in all haste. You could not have prevented these… demons, or whatever it is, from attacking your people. You have sheltered your vassals—and us—the best you could. We all know this." Lavinet takes a sip of her drink, her gloved hand steady. "But?" "<i>But</i>, my love, from the outside, it does not look so favorable and clear-cut. Indeed, some of the imbeciles among us are beginning to resent their long 'confinement.' The arrival of those Shepherd officers have banked that flame, at least for now, but there are rumblings. These people have never been deprived of their freedom in any way. They chafe. And their relatives…" "They blame my family for this predicament?" "They are beginning to. Some fault the lack of security, the Lockwood fiefdom's inadequate military. Had you made your names on the strength of your army, perhaps we would have broken through this barricade our enemies have constructed around us… so some ignorants say. Even more unpleasant is a certain idea that this situation is <i>deliberate</i>. Concocted by you as a play of power. Not many of us here have witnessed what you have witnessed: we have not interviewed your constituents, rode out to see the damage wrought by our Enemy. We only have your word for it that any of this is truly happening…" "And so others think that we are lying," Lavinet says, her voice utterly toneless. "That we have fabricated these circumstances, paid off the messengers and civilians to put up a charade… to keep you all here. But for what purpose?" "Ah, my dear, I couldn't say for sure. I imagine some of the old—forgive my language—dimwits in the other fiefdoms might see it as a kind of captivity. Perhaps you mean to keep us all here, under the guise of it being for our safety, as a kind of ransom. A display to our parents and more powerful relatives: do as you say, or something terrible might happen to one of these dear little nobles you've got locked up in your castle. And no one will ever be able to prove it wasn't a demon or a mere negligence in your security. And you have made it known that you wouldn't join in on the bargaining season and get married. Why? Perhaps because you knew another way to accrue more power for your family on your own…" <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "ladysummerfield6who">><</link>></center>

Lady Summerfield, who had been speaking in a melting, light tone not quite urgent enough to be a whisper, finally trails off. Lavinet takes a sip of her drink again, but this time, you see a very slight tremble in her hand. Her face, however, remains both bright and impassive. "It's ridiculous," she says, and Lady Summerfield nods as if it's the given conclusion. "How long do I have before the ones who hold these ideas act on them?" "I'd say a few sennights or so, maybe more," Lady Summerfield says casually. "And the worst that happens is that they send riders to come and verify the situation for themselves. If they find evidence of your phantoms, all is well… until they want to send their own armies into an already messy and confusing situation. If they <i>don't</i> find evidence of these elusive creatures, well…" "Then I look a fool, a conspirator, or both," Lavinet says, her tone briefly heavy. "And our fiefdoms will be at war." "Oh, no, sweetling. There will be no need for them to take care of you themselves. If they think you've concocted some scheme to create a supernatural threat <i>and</i> a way to cause infighting among the nobles, there will be no invasion, no civil war between fiefdoms. They will tell the Autarch, and her Inquisitors will bring you and your father to Haven in chains." A long pause, punctured only by shouts from the smokers and the shuffling of cards over at the game table. The fire in the deep hearth continues to crackle merrily. Finally Lavinet says: "But the Shepherds. They're agents of the Autarchy as well. And if they find the evidence that everything I'm saying is correct…" "Perhaps their word has sway with the Autarch. I do not know," says Lady Summerfield. "But I do know that the words of Diminished—no matter what fine, upstanding fighters they are—mean almost nothing to old farts like Auberon's father… or God forbid, Jizania Tiger." The two women both pale. Summerfield continues, "The Shepherds may tell those others that you are telling the truth… but those others are within their rights to disbelieve them. After all, <i>you</i> called the Shepherds here. You bribed them with gold before they even came. They might say anything, verify anything, if you told them to. They very well may be paid witnesses nestled deep in your pockets." For the first time, Lavinet's back stiffens. "The integrity of these officers cannot be questioned," she says softly. "They are brave souls, and generous too, to help a group of spoiled, wealthy brats like us. After what our kind did to theirs? I won't have anyone speak ill of their honesty." <<nobr>><<if $prihinedead is true or $bothdead is true>> "That is your choice to make, my dear. But was it not a Diminished person—one that later became a Shepherd—that let your cousin die under their watch?" <br><br> Lavinet goes dead silent then. Uneasy, you pull yourself away from the scene a little. For some reason you can feel your heart thumping in your chest—as if she can sense you standing near her and knows you are eavesdropping. <br><br> Prihine's mangled body flashes briefly through your mind before the bloom of the scrying takes over once again. <<include "scrying">> <<else>> "And that is your right, my dear. But the old farts won't believe them. And by the time the Autarchy, or their order, catches up to it all, they might have seen you hauled off in chains… or worse. You must tread very carefully. And <i>they</i> must resolve this matter very soon." <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "ladysummerfield6whoi">><</link>></center> <</if>><</nobr>>

Well, shit. The women continue talking in low voices, eventually joined by Clara, Lavinet's lady-in-waiting, and you decide to draw away, satisfied (and unnerved) by what you heard. <<include "scrying">>

You release your hold on the vision, and it immediately dissipates before your eyes like mist. You blink, and your private bedroom returns to you slowly, bleeding into your mind like ink. It's dark, and scrying is always taxing on your mind… You close your eyes, and you don't even feel your head hit your pillow before you're asleep. Somehow what you saw all feels like a dream… <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "nextmorninggg">><</link>></center>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "nightnighti">><</link>></center>

The night draws on, but no beings ever appear. Only the wind deigns to visit, blowing over your body in icy blasts, cold and questing fingers carding through your hair. You shiver and withdraw into your cloak, uneasy for no reason you can name. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "nextmorninggg">><</link>></center>

You make it back to your bed and sleep for a groggy few hours before the light of day filters through your window and jolts you awake. You bathe, brush your teeth, and emerge from your bathroom into your foyer, where you find two cream-colored envelopes with elegant scripts lying on the round table in the center of the room. Lavinet told you that this is where you would find messages delivered by the servants every hour (though when they entered your suite or departed, you don't know). On the desk in your reading room, you find a silver tray heaped high with breakfast items: a steaming pot of tea, exactly how you like it, a tall glass of fruit juice, toast, eggs, fatty ham, and rich gold butter and tiny pots of glistening jams. You pore over the letters as you eat. The first is from Lavinet: <<set $loadPassage to Story.get("lavinetsletter2").text;>> <<letter_holder "formal" $loadPassage>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "nextmorningggi">><</link>></center>

<i>Dear <<c firstname>>,<i> <i>I'm afraid I'm being held up by some important meetings my father requires me to attend. If I didn't know better, I'd think he was trying to keep me from you, but I won't assume anything so stupid of my own sire. I will conspire to meet with you tonight at dinner, or we may run into each other if you're out and about on the estate.</i> <i>I've arranged for the following groups to be prepared for your investigation, should you choose to visit any of them.</i> <i>- The scholars have commandeered our library, in the west wing, and our archives, in the basement. They've done some research into this matter and might have useful clues.</i> <i>- The town guard are primarily stationed along the city walls for defense. You may speak to them about what they've seen, as well as how effective our defenses look in the light of day. They have been instructed to tell you anything you want to know.</i> <i>- There are refugees from our outlying lands outside the town walls: I'm sure you saw them when you were riding in. These are survivors of the attacks that have been plaguing our land. I can't guarantee their cooperation, but they may be the strongest witnesses we have of these creatures. </i> <i>- Many of the most important nobles will be attending a private concert in the east gardens, to celebrate Pendric's birthday. It's terribly silly, I know, especially when we're under siege, but the complexities of our politics are really too myriad to set down on paper. If you feel like speaking to any of them for whatever reason, they'll be having a picnic in the same gardens at lunch, after the concert. Only Pendric's friends will be there: no Isolde or Auberon or any unpleasants. And I will be there, as well. But even I cannot force anyone to agree to any interviews you might want to conduct.</i> <i>Thank you, darling, and good luck in your investigations. I hope we can find answers to our little problem today. </i> <i>Warm regards,</i> <span class="lavinetsignature">Lavinet Naveen</span>

The next letter is addressed from… Lady Isolde. But it seems a servant or handmaid penned the letter itself. <i>You are cordially invited to afternoon drinks in Lady Isolde's personal parlor. </i> The time is listed for later this afternoon. That feeling of unease comes again, like a breath of cold wind. What are you supposed to make of this? Ayla comes in then, kicking open the door with the unceremonious ferocity that makes her Ayla. Briony follows, looking bright and chipper, and then comes Tallys, cool as ever. "You get a note, too?" Ayla asks, throwing herself down onto the reading bench by the window. "Oh, you got <i>two</i>." "What's the other one?" Briony asks, sitting beside her. You pass the note to Tallys, whose frown deepens as she reads. "Lady Isolde has invited me to drinks in her parlor," you tell the others. "She didn't invite any of you?" They all shake their heads. "Why would she want to talk to you alone?" Briony asks, looking anxious. "Maybe you should ask Lavi." "She's in meetings until later this afternoon," Tallys answers, showing you her own note. It seems to be an identical copy of yours. "Though we might see her if any of us go to this… picnic. But there are more important things to attend to, in my mind." "Then what are you going to do about Asseron and Assolde?" Ayla asks. "You'd be going in there with no backup. Smells of treachery, if you ask me." "But we've got to impress them, don't we?" Briony chews her lip. "Lavinet said they're the most influential ones here—we need their support if we're going to get the nobles on our side." "Who says we <i>want</i> nobles on our side?" Tallys nearly spits. "Why do we have to bow and scrape for their approval at all? We're the ones who can solve their problem, not the other way around. They need us; we don't need them. Getting the Norm aristocracy involved could only mean trouble for the Shepherds. More oversight, more authorities to please. It makes the whole thing a tangled web of bureaucracy." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Or it means more money, political power, and public support."' 'orit6means'>><<setintelligence +1>><<setcunning +3>><<settallys -1>><<setbriony +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You\'re right. We need to focus on demon-hunting, not playing with spoiled brats."' 'youreright6we'>><<setloyal +5>><<settallys +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I don\'t know."' 'nextmorningggii'>><<setcourage -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I just wish the ones to impress were not... those two."' 'ijust6wish'>><<setayla +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Lavinet's right: if you have famous and influential nobles backing you, there's no telling how much more efficient or powerful the Shepherds could become. The commonfolk always follow their celebrities' leads, and other nobles and politicians who would be enemies of the Shepherds would be defanged. You would effectively be protected from human forces while you dealt with the demonic ones; and there's always more room for a plant to grow without a cage to hem it in. Tallys turns away in disgust. <<include "nextmorningggii">>

Briony bites her lip, but doesn't argue. Tallys, on the other hand, looks satisfied. "Exactly." <<include "nextmorningggii">>

"They're <i>all</i> like those two," Tallys returns, folding her arms. "In a way, I trust them more: they're honest about how they feel, and so they're easier to counter. The ones who pretend to be something they're not—the ones who dress things up in pretty words and flattery—are the ones you have to watch out for." Briony sighs. <<include "nextmorningggii">>

<<nobr>><<dialog 'Alpha Build'>>This section is not yet complete and will be more polished in the final version of the game. Only the route to visit the nobles with Lavinet is written at the moment. <center><<button 'Confirm'>><<dialogclose>><</button>></center> <</dialog>><</nobr>>"In any case," Ayla interrupts, "we need to figure out what we should do today. I say we split up. Cover more ground that way." "I'll take the town guard," Briony says. "I'd like to think I have an eye for good defenses, and I built up a rapport with some of them yesterday." "Fine," Tallys says. "Then I'll take the scholars. Digging through archives and historical texts for knowledge is something of my specialty. Even if that role in everyone's minds has been usurped by Master Antiqua." "And I'll take the refugees," Ayla says. "I've stayed in camps like that before—when I was younger, at least. I know what people are feeling, how to talk to them. Or how to not piss them off, anyway." They look at you expectantly. <ul class="choices"> <<if $democomplete is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Then I\'ll visit the scholars with Tallys."</div>' 'seelavinet'>><<settallys +3>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">"Then I\'ll visit the scholars with Tallys."</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $democomplete is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Then I\'ll visit the town guard with Briony."</div>' 'seelavinet'>><<setbriony +3>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">"Then I\'ll visit the town guard with Briony."</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $democomplete is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Then I\'ll visit the refugees with Ayla."</div>' 'seelavinet'>><<setayla +3>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">"Then I\'ll visit the refugees with Ayla."</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link '"Then I\'ll visit the nobles with Lavinet."' 'thenill6visitlavinet'>><<setlavinet +3>><</link>></li> </ul>

"Maybe I can ask her what to do about Isolde," you add. Tallys shrugs. "Whatever you say." <<include "seelavinet">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "seelavineti">><</link>></center>

/* music? */ You finish up breakfast, then make your way down to the east gardens. There's a quartet playing here, surrounded by an arching display of vivid blooms; a dozen or so nobles sit in attentive silence, on elegant wicker chairs or on plush blankets in the grass; nearby are white-clothed tables of refreshments, with servants on standby to pour out drinks or provide shade to the beckoning aristocrats. You glance up at the sun. By the sounds of it, this concert isn't anywhere close to finished—Lavinet indicated that you should come at lunchtime, for the picnic afterward—and none of the young nobles seem to notice you lurking around in the back. One servant by the tables shoots a curious glance at you. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Take a chair inconspicuously. It\'s been a long time since you enjoyed live music like this, and you can wait an hour or so.' 'takea6chair'>><<setloyal -5>><<setcharisma +3>><<setcompassionate +1>><<set $nobles += 5>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Interrupt the concert and break up the party. You\'re on a mission, and saving lives and getting to the bottom of this mystery are far more important than some birthday concert.' 'interruptthe6concert'>><<setloyal +5>><<setcharisma -3>><<setcompassionate -5>><<set $nobles -= 5>><</link>></li> </ul>

You sit and let the pleasant music wash over you. A fountain depicting a young woman pouring a glass pitcher (looking suspiciously like Lavinet) into a pool of lilypads burbles softly in the background. Hummingbirds flit to and fro, drinking greedily from the huge exotic flowers that grow around the garden, oblivious to the cares of the world around them. A few aristocrats playing pall-mall on the lawn in the back notice you, but no one approaches Pendric, the supposed host of the party—and all of his attention is on the players. Beside him, his fiancee, Clara, fans herself gently and listens to the music. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>One hour later...</span></div></div>' "takea6chairi">><</link>></center>

You blink as the last song warbles to a ringing silence, and enthusiastic clapping fills the garden. You must have begun to doze slightly in the delicious warmth of the sun: now you know how nobles can be content to just laze around all day. You look around in a kind of bleary-eyed daze as party-goers begin to rise and break away from the musicians, some heading straight to the refreshment tables while others finally take notice of you and approach. Pendric smiles, ever the picture of the perfect gentleman. In some ways he reminds you a little of Red, straight-framed and honest-faced and friendly. "<<c rank>> <<c surname>>! It's wonderful to see you. Had I known you would have had the time to attend, I would have sent you a formal invitation." His smile is guileless, but a young woman laughs softly as if he'd insulted you. Beside him, Clara goes still. You frown. Perhaps not like Red, after all. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I didn\'t come to be social. I have questions to ask you."' 'ididnt6come'>><<setloyal +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I came to ask you questions, but found myself caught up in the lovely music."' 'icame6to'>><<setcharisma +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I didn\'t actually have the time to wait, but I decided to be polite and not break up your birthday party."' 'ididnt6actually'>><<setloyal -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Pendric smiles. "Of course. Fire away." <<include "seelavinetii">>

Pendric smiles. "I'm glad that you could enjoy it." "We were under the impression that Shepherds did not enjoy music," the young woman who laughed adds in sibilant tones, and the group chuckles as if she'd said some great joke. You frown again. Hadn't Lavinet said that this was a group of people that could be trusted? Maybe that's something relative, with this crowd. <<include "seelavinetii">>

Pendric bows to you. "Your gesture is very much appreciated, <<c rank>>." You can't tell if he's being sincere or sarcastic. <<include "seelavinetii">>

You stride into the center of the garden, gesturing sharply to the musicians to stop playing. They hesitate, then lower their instruments; Pendric blinks and looks up at you while the other nobles stir and murmur in disapproval. "I need to talk to you," you say, folding your arms and staring sternly at all of them. "This can resume later." A young woman tuts and turns to her companion. "The nerve!" she whispers. Before you can hurl back a response—do these people have any idea the danger they might be in?—Pendric rises to his feet with a nervous smile. In some ways he reminds you a little of Red, straight-framed and honest-faced and friendly."I would be happy to talk with you, $rank," he says. He looks around encouragingly at his friends. "As would we all." You nod curtly. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Very good."' 'pendricsmiles6at'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Thanks."' 'pendricsmiles6at'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"As it should be." ' 'pendricsmiles6at'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Say nothing at all: a nod is enough.' 'pendricsmiles6at'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Pendric smiles at you. "Fire away." <<include "seelavinetii">>

<<set $lavinetweapon to false>><<include "asknobles">>

<ul class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("isthere6anything")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Is there anything any of you want to tell me?"</div>' 'isthere6anything'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("whator6who")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"What—or who—do you think these assailants are?"</div>' 'whator6who'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("doyou6thinkattacks")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Do you think these attacks could be politically-motivated?"</div>' 'doyou6thinkattacks'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("howcould6you")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"How could you be celebrating your birthday when this whole place is under siege?"</div>' 'howcould6you'>><<setcharisma -1>><<set $nobles -= 5>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link 'The conversation moves to other topics.' 'asknoblesi'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Cool, dispassionate stares. No one answers your question. Great. <<include "asknobles">>

Pendric frowns, while Clara wrinkles her brow. "Aren't they Endarkened?" another young aristocrat asks in an affected, innocent tone. "Isn't that the entire reason why you're here?" "I heard it could be… rogue Mages," the woman who laughed says, glancing at you. "Disguising themselves, burning the countryside as an act of rebellion." "What would that achieve, Lady Tamara?" Clara asks, turning to the woman with a frown. Tamara shrugs. "I cannot fathom the mindset of such degenerates, my dear." Well. It doesn't seem any of them have a straight answer; no surprise, considering Lavinet herself doesn't. You do notice how the noble beside Lady Tamara—a bright-sashed suzerain—frowns and looks away. <<include "asknobles">>

Tallys had mentioned it to you last night: that this could be instigated by one of the Naveens' political rivals as a scheme to ruin their reputation. Pendric frowns and glances around at the other nobles, who all shake their heads and shrug. "I suppose it's always a possibility," he says slowly, "but I haven't heard of such a theory. The resources it would take to attack farms, homesteads—it would require a private army. And I think we'd catch wind if any noble was building that. The Autarch certainly would." <<include "asknobles">>

Pendric smiles ruefully. "I can see how it would look… inane," he says. "Or perhaps even suspicious. But this is according to Lady Lavinet's edicts. We nobles, you see—we're pretty worthless in situations like this. What skills could we contribute, what more could we really do? We'd only be adding to the tension by sitting in our rooms and fretting. By carrying on like everything is fine, we maintain a sense of normalcy and order. That allows everyone else to function, instead of worrying about us." You glance at Clara, who dips a curtsy in agreement. "It is unfortunately true, <<c rank>>," she says, her sweet and gentle voice as soft as a satin pillow. "Some of us are university-educated, others not; we don't have much knowledge or talent to contribute. Not in a situation such as this." "Now, if you need singers and embroiderers, or perhaps people who can fence while looking devastatingly handsome…" Pendric's smile is self-deprecating. "Aren't any of you military-trained?" You thought nobles received education in that area—many heirs serve in the Autarch's army as a rite of passage before they join the Sun Court, and they should at least have some military knowledge if their fiefdoms have any kind of soldiering or even knights. Pendric smiles slightly. "We are second sons, third daughters, and fourth suzerains," he says. "It's why we're here, instead of at home with our families preparing for the social season, or idling around because we're confident we'll be snatched off the marriage market without lifting a finger. We need to tour around and show ourselves off, to attract suitors—like ponies turned out for tricks." "Except us," Clara reminds him. Pendric smiles and kisses her fingers. "Of course. We're here because we were bored." "Lavinet isn't a lesser heir," you add. "Nor, I'm told, are Lord Auberon or Lady Isolde." "Ah. You're right. And those three <i>are</i> our military-trained nobles." You stare at him. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Auberon and Isolde are military-trained?"' 'auberonand6isolde'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Lady Lavinet is military-trained?"' 'ladylavinet6is'>><<set $lavinetweapon to true>><<setlavinet +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Those lazy fops? Clara laughs at your skepticism. "As Pendric said," she says, fluttering her fan, "most first-born heirs receive that type of training. Lord Auberon is a member of the Order of the Rose, and carries a dagger as a mark of his membership. And Lady Isolde is a fine horsewoman. They each know how to lead military units, how to direct them…" "At least in theory," Pendric adds with a dimpled grin. "Things tend to fly out our heads when we're surrounded by…" He gestures vaguely at the ornamented garden. "…Glamor and ease." You want to point out the obvious point here: that Auberon and Isolde do not like Lavinet, that they are military-trained, at least in name, and that they have motive to be orchestrating these attacks. But you glance around at the crowd of watching faces and decide to keep your counsel to yourself. <<include "asknoblesi">>

Pendric's mouth quirks. "No one told you? She's famous for her lance around these parts, and she fights wicked with a rapier and a saber." "She is an official chevalier," Clara adds, naming a somewhat decorative and outdated rank for warriors on horseback, like "lady-knight" or "banneret." She seems extremely proud of her mistress's accomplishments. "She was trained by her father's master-at-arms," Pendric finishes. "And then later, with the town guard, though she soon outstripped them all. She isn't as decorated or experienced as your officers might be, of course—she's pure Norm—but I think she could hold her own in a match against you." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Is that... normal? For a noble lady to train that way?"' 'isthat6normal'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Only if I was asleep."' 'onlyif6iwas'>><<setlavinet -3>><<set $lavinetromanceflag -= 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Really? Well, now I\'m curious."' 'reallywell6now'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"So she\'s beautiful <i>and</i> can fight? The perfect package?"' 'soshes6beautiful'>><<if $gender is "male">><<set $lavinetromanceflag += 1>><</if>><<setlavinet +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Pendric grins. "Not at all," he says cheerfully. "But I'll leave it to her to discuss that." <<include "asknoblesi">>

Clara coughs politely. "I think we'd better get back to the matter at hand." <<include "asknoblesi">>

Clara smiles at you. "Perhaps you can discuss it with her another time. But now I think we'd better get back to the matter at hand." <<include "asknoblesi">>

Pendric coughs uncomfortably while Clara hides her smile behind a fan. "I'll, ah, leave that to you to decide. I view Lavi as a sister… with all the foibles of a rather bossy sibling." Clara clears her throat. "Perhaps we should get back to the matter at hand." <<include "asknoblesi">>

<<set $lavifail to 0>><<set $elementalsknow to false>>You talk with the large group for a while more, but it becomes clear that no straight answers are forthcoming: Pendric seems a bit clueless—not like Red after all, mostly just tall—and the others are just as ignorant as he is or simply unwilling to volunteer information. Lavinet herself is nowhere to be seen. You watch as the nobles break off into smaller groups, eager to get back to the party, and consider that you may need to rethink your plan of action when it comes to interrogating them. It's hard to know who to pin in the spotlight when there are a dozen or more unknown faces surrounding you. You look around the garden, and one particular cluster of people catches your eye. It's that young woman who'd laughed at you, an auburn-haired diva with tiny white flowers woven through her hair; she snaps her fan open and bends to whisper in the ear of a young suzerain while a barrel-chested, decorated man with them glances around, seemingly as if to make sure no one is listening. You watch, and after several minutes of conspiring in languid, cat-eyed little whispers, the auburn-haired woman drifts away, seemingly in the direction of the powder rooms inside. The decorated man and the suzerain continue speaking in rapidfire whispers. Now's your chance to see what they know—if it's anything at all. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'You should be able to charm them into giving something away.' 'youshould6be'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'You should be able to intimidate these soft-handed nobles into saying something.' 'youshould6beable'>><</link>></li> <<if $specialization is "shifter" and $arcane gte 60>><<link '<div class="choice-item">You\'ll shift into the auburn-haired diva\'s form. Although it\'s risky, you hope they\'ll think they\'re talking to their confidante, not you.</div>' 'shift'>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">You\'ll shift into the auburn-haired diva\'s form. Although it\'s risky, you hope they\'ll think they\'re talking to their confidante, not you.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($specialization is "enchanter" and $psionic gte 50) or ($psionic gte 60 and $magic gte 65)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">If they prove resistant, you\'ll use a subtle enchantment to loosen their tongues and lower their defenses.</div>' 'enchant'>><<set $elementalsknow to true>><<setreputation +3>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">If they prove resistant, you\'ll use a subtle enchantment to loosen their tongues and lower their defenses.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> </ul>

[SORRY, THIS SECTION IS INCOMPLETE.] <<include "sequencing">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "sequencingi">><</link>></center>

Do you want to see the sequence where you shape-shift or enchant your targets? These paths will only be available to certain specializations in the complete build of the game, but for now will remain readable since this particular route is not finished. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Enchant my targets.' 'enchant'>><<set $elementalsknow to true>><<setreputation +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Shapeshift into Lady Tamara.' 'shift'>><</link>></li> </ul>

You slip away and find a quiet, private nook for you to change form. You've only just begun to perfect looking identical to other people (though what your target looks like under her clothes is up to your imagination only), and luckily you've been able to magically alter your voice fairly well, too. The only problem is clothes—do you remember what that woman was wearing? <ul class="choices"> <<if $intelligence gte 65 or $cunning gte 65>><<link '<div class="choice-item">I recall in perfect detail what she was wearing, and change my own clothes accordingly.</div>' 'irecall6what'>><<setintelligence +1>><<setcunning +1>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">I recall in perfect detail what she was wearing, and change my own clothes accordingly.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $intelligence gte 50 or $cunning gte 50>><<link '<div class="choice-item">I have a fuzzy memory of what she was wearing: it will be enough to fool her friends, anyway.</div>' 'ihave6fuzzy'>><<set $lavifail += 1>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">I have a fuzzy memory of what she was wearing: it will be enough to fool her friends, anyway.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link 'I don\'t remember what she was wearing at all, and will have to wing it.' 'idont6remember'>><<setintelligence -3>><<set $lavifail += 2>><</link>></li> </ul>

She was wearing a pale blue riding gown with a white rose pinned to her furred collar. You transform your clothes into a perfect imitation, then make your way back to the young suzerain and xer soldierly friend. They nod at you and continue their conversation without noticing a thing. <<include "disguisech6">>

You remember it was a pale blue dress; you won't get the exact details right, but it should be good enough for a quick chat. You mince over to the two nobles, and they glance at you and frown. "Tamara," the suzerain says, wrinkling xer brow. "I thought you were powdering." "Well, I'm done," you answer with a tinkling laugh. Xer brow puckers, but xe turns away with a shrug. <<include "disguisech6">>

You shrug and change your clothes into something resembling a fancy afternoon gown. Good enough. You mince over to the young suzerain and xer soldierly friend, and they both turn to you with a frown. "Tamara?" the suzerain says, wrinkling xer brow. "I thought you were powdering." Then xe takes a step back. "And did you <i>change</i>?" You clear your throat in preparation of doing your best 'snooty female noble' voice. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"It\'s all the rage to show off two outfits during one outing, my dear. Didn\'t you know?"' 'itsall6therage'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"A servant spilled a drink on me and I had to change. I\'ll make sure he\'s punished."' 'aservant6spilled'>><<set $lavifail += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"What? I was always wearing this, silly!"' 'whatiwas6always'>><<set $lavifail += 2>><</link>></li> </ul>

The suzerain blinks rapidly, but after a moment says: "Of course." <<include "disguisech6">>

The suzerain frowns, while the soldier shoots you an odd look. "That was… fast," the suzerain says, the furrow in xer brow growing deeper. "And an unusual reaction from you." You smile innocently, and xe turns away with a deeper frown. <<include "disguisech6">>

The suzerain's eyes narrow. "I see." <<include "disguisech6">>

You wander over to the pair, not attempting to be casual about it. "What were you talking about, with that woman who just left?" The young suzerain eyes you with barely-concealed contempt. "Excuse me?" You push at them hard with your magic. This is a pair of untried and sheltered nobles, unexposed to magic and therefore presumably defenseless. The suzerain's jaw slackens immediately; the decorated man, who by his gait seems to be involved with the military, fights a little bit harder—but soon enough, his will crumbles before yours, too. "What were you talking about?" you ask again, taking care not to raise your voice and draw attention from the other party-goers. "Did it have to do with the recent attacks?" The suzerain blinks slow, unfocused eyes. "It's Lady Tamara," xe murmurs. "She—she believed that the attacks were engineered by Auberon and Isolde, as a way to tar the reputation of the Naveens. She…" "She has befriended them," the other man rumbles. He blinks furiously, but can't seem to break out of your spell. "To ferret out the truth of things. It has not endeared her to many people in this group. But to her surprise, she has discovered that <i>they</i>—Isolde and Auberon—believe these attacks are a maneuver by the Naveens. If the Naveens come to the rescue and save the day—in a situation that they ultimately have control over—they boost their standing and are seen as heroes by all these noble families. It's well-known that Lady Naveen desires to go to the Sun Court. This may be just the thing to catch the Autarch's attention." Interesting. "And who do you believe?" you prompt. "Do you think Lady Naveen's family or the Eddons are truly responsible for these attacks?" The suzerain frowns, while the big man shrugs. "We don't know," he says slowly. "Which is why we have not shared our findings with either party." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "enchanti">><</link>></center>

You sense, still, that there's something being blocked off from you, a reluctance you have to pick at. You pull, the same way you might unearth a stubborn rock while mining—and the wall gives way. "What are you not telling me?" you ask, your voice vibrating with a magical timbre. The suzerain grimaces, but the words tumble out: "We have… taken the liberty… of consulting a Mage… in these matters. Without any of the parties here aware. We have discovered…" "Who was this Mage?" you interrupt. The suzerain grits xer teeth against the demand of your magic, but fails to answer. <i>Very</i> interesting. "We have discovered—that whoever these assailants are, they are not quite using magic, not as we know it. It may be Endarkened magic, it might not. And…" "And their powers seem to be quite primitive," the apparent soldier bursts out. "They hurl fire, tear down houses with the wind, flood fields, and upturn the earth. It's destructive, but not in an orderly way, as with an invasion. More like simple forces of nature, all concentrated on the same area at once." Your first thought are Elementalists, which would mean Mage rebels after all—but what do they mean, it's not quite magic? You press some more, but that's all the suzerain and the soldier seem to know. You'll have to consult with the others, but you feel as if you've gained a very valuable nugget of information today. You pause just before letting the spell drop, mulling the issue over. That Lady Tamara is due to return any moment now, but you sense that these two are still keeping something from you, locking something away in the dark of their minds. You discern it has very little to do with this matter and is more of a personal nature—but you still can't tell what that is. Not without rummaging around in their heads some more. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Probe their minds. Any information could prove useful.' 'probetheir6minds'>><</link>><<setintelligence +2>><<setcunning +1>><<setcompassionate -3>><<if ($specialization is "enchanter" and $psionic gte 55) or $psionic gte 65>><<setmagic +1>><<setpsionic +1>><</if>></li> <li><<link 'Turn away. Even aristocrats deserve their privacy.' 'enchantii'>><<setcompassionate +5>><<setcunning -3>><</link>></li> </ul>

<<nobr>><<if ($specialization is "enchanter" and $psionic gte 55) or $psionic gte 65>> You root around in their thoughts and finally yank free some information about them: the suzerain is Xirxe Treven, third heir to a small fiefdom in the East, and the barrel-chested man is Adem Sylver, a second son of a minor duchy who served in the Autarch's army and was awarded a medal for his heroism. <br><br> They're also both lovers, along with Lady Tamara. You nearly blush at the remembrances you catch, flitting past you like birds in the hazy depths of their minds. <br><br> What's <i>really</i> interesting is that those tangled feelings aren't even the real secrets they're trying to stuff down. It seems that Suzerain Treven is actually the result of adultery and not xer father's true heir… and the product of this affair also means xe carries a tiny fragment of Mage blood in xer. It's not much more than what a Hedgewitch might have—but it grants xer occasional premonitions and vague feelings for the truth. It's how they uncovered this information about the attacks in the first place. There's no Mage consultant at all: the Mage <i>is</i> the suzerain, and vice-versa. <br><br> And if the Autarch or any of the other nobles ever caught wind of such a secret, unlucky Xirxe would be exiled, xer family ruined, and xer lovers Tamara and Adem would go down with the ship as well. They must all trust each other with their lives, to know and keep a secret like this. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'You immediately feel a sense of shame for ripping such a precious secret away from them.' 'youimmediately6feel'>><<setcompassionate +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'You smile and tuck away the secret for later. You never know when it might come in handy.' 'yousmile6and'>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setcunning +5>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'You feel a strange sense of kinship with this noble, even though you\'ve barely exchanged a few words. It must be difficult, to live life terrified of being outed for something that should be considered lucky.' 'youfeel6astrange'>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>></li> </ul> <<else>> You feel around, but unfortunately their secret is so elusive that you can't pull it out of their minds without making a scene. You shrug. It probably wasn't that important, anyway. <br><br> <<include "enchantii">> <</if>><</nobr>>

But, well, what's done is done. Instead you vow never to breathe a whisper of what you've learned here, at least where it pertains to them. You thank them silently for forking over a wealth of information about the attacks. <<include "enchantii">>

You thank them silently for forking over such a wealth of valuable information. <<include "enchantii">>

But then again, that's how all Diminished must feel—and they don't have wealth and privilege to cushion their fall. <<include "enchantii">>

Then you murmur the spell-word to make them forget all about this encounter and take your leave; Lady Tamara returns, frowning in a worried way. It's no wonder the Norms, and especially the Norm aristocracy, are so afraid of the Diminished, you think as you depart. Enough to oppress them, enough to enslave them. They're almost right to be afraid. It was very easy for you to dig out their secrets and crack their minds like they were mere eggs. You could have even done much worse, if you wanted—and they would have been powerless to stop you then, too. The scariest part of all is that they'll never know you did it. <<include "lavinetarrives">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "disguisei">><</link>></center>

You talk for a while, and you're able to extract from the conversation that the young suzerain is named Xirxe; xe seems to be a lesser heir of a minor fiefdom to the East. And the man is Adem Sylver, the second son of a minor duchy. Apparently he served in the Autarch's army and achieved the rank of Major. He is decorated with a medal of honor for his apparent heroism, though what that heroism was, you're not sure. Finally the suzerain turns crisply to you and says, "Well, what do you think you're going to do?" "About?" You try not to fiddle with your—with Tamara's—fan. Xirxe clicks xer teeth. "About your conundrum with Lavinet and Auberon. Are you going to take a side? Or do we still keep this to ourselves?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Remind me again what we\'re discussing?"' 'remindme6again'>><<set $lavifail += 2>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"What do you think I should do?"' 'whatdo6youthink'>><<set $lavifail += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I side with Lavinet, of course."' 'iside6with'>><<setloyal +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Xirxe gives you a hard stare. "Are you daft?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Just overheated in the sun, that\'s all."' 'huff'>><<if $lavifail gte 3>><<setcharisma -3>><<setcunning -3>><<setreputation -3>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Er... no?"' 'huff'>><<set $lavifail += 2>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"How dare you speak to me that way!"' 'huff'>><<set $lavifail += 1>><</link>></li> </ul>

<<nobr>><<if $lavifail gte 3>> They stare at you as if you've grown a second head: it was clearly the wrong thing to say. <br><br> You feel a pinprick of danger in your chest: you are perilously close to revealing yourself. You dip a curtsy and mutter an excuse, drifting away across the grass before they can question you further. By the time the real Lady Tamara returns, you are back in your true form and clothes, and doing your best to look innocuous. <br><br> <<include "lavinetarrives">> <<else>> Xe huffs impatiently. "Lavinet and Auberon. You decided to befriend the Eddons and infiltrate their circle under the suspicion that they were instigating these attacks, to destroy Lavinet and Naveens' reputation. Now you've discovered that they believe <i>Lavinet</i> has orchestrated these attacks, to swoop in and save the day and bolster her own reputation." Xe glances tightly at the barrel-chested man. "And I take it you and Adem have already discussed the matter without me?" <br><br> <<include "ademagrees">> <</if>><</nobr>>

"Well, you already know my thoughts on the matter," Xirxe says, rather waspishly. "And I take it you and Adem have discussed the matter?" <<include "ademagrees">>

You turn to the burly man, who shrugs elegantly. "If you ask me, I'd side with Lavinet any day," he rumbles. "She's a clever one, but generally honest. To pull a scheme like trapping us here and inciting an army to destroy her own lands… the amount of money they must be paying in reparations and repairs ought to be staggering, if those refugees are real. And there are much simpler and easier ways to attract the Autarch's attention. I don't think she'd resort to hiring an army of—whatever they are—to endanger us all, even if it would look good for her to save the day with those Shepherds." "You only favor her because you want to bed her," Xirxe murmurs. Adem shrugs again. "And so? I want to bed everybody." You shake your head. "So if we don't believe Lavinet has anything to do with these incidents…" "Then Auberon and Isolde must," Adem finishes. "I'd put some money on that. Those two are rich and conniving, and have motive to see Lavinet and her family humiliated—she rejected Auberon so dramatically last spring, after all. I wouldn't put it past them to hire insurgents and keep up this ruse to bankrupt her estates and make her look like a fool." "I would agree," Xirxe sighs, "if not for the fact that I believe Isolde to be a coward, and too afraid of being caught and persecuted by our dear Autarch for consorting with—magic." "Then perhaps it is neither of them," you suggest. "And perhaps these attacks are a different thing entirely." "But what, then?" Xirxe chews xer lip. "We know from our… <i>friend</i>… that these attacks are similar to magic, but not quite. Perhaps it is Endarkened work, after all—but we simply don't know." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Our \'friend\'?"' 'checkfail'>><<set $lavifail += 2>><<if $lavifail gte 3>><<setcharisma -3>><<setcunning -3>><<setreputation -3>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Why are we keeping this knowledge a secret?"' 'whyare6wekeeping'>><<set $lavifail += 1>><<if $lavifail gte 3>><<setcharisma -3>><<setcunning -3>><<setreputation -3>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Perhaps it isn\'t magic at all, then, but clever illusions and weaponry."' 'perhapsit6isnt'>><<set $elementalsknow to true>><<setreputation +3>><</link>></li> </ul>

It seems to be the wrong question to ask, for Xirxe stops and narrows xer eyes at you, and Adem frowns. <<nobr>><<if $lavifail gte 3>> You feel a pinprick of danger in your chest: you are perilously close to revealing yourself. You dip a curtsy and mutter an excuse, drifting away across the grass before they can question you further. By the time the real Lady Tamara returns, you are back in your true form and clothes, and doing your best to look innocuous. <br><br> <<include "lavinetarrives">> <<else>> "What's wrong with you, Tamara?" Xirxe asks. "You are very… absent-minded, of a sudden. It's not like you." <br><br> You glance away. "I feel a bit faint, that's all." <br><br> Xirxe makes a skeptical noise, but Adem intervenes. "Our friend has a good nose for these things," he says gently. "Trust that they're correct in their estimations." Then he casts a significant glance at Xirxe, who looks away—and it registers to you that this 'friend' is standing right next to you. But how would Xirxe know anything about magic? Or Endarkened? Perhaps xe's a hobbyist, or has a network of spies, as they all must…? <br><br> You talk for a while more, but you become increasingly aware that the real Tamara will return at any minute, so you eventually excuse yourself and slip away into a back garden. Then you shift back into your real form and rejoin the party, musing on the little tidbits you've picked up. <br><br> <<include "lavinetarrives">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $lavifail gte 3>> It seems the wrong question to ask, because Xirxe huffs impatiently and Adem frowns. Xirxe opens xer mouth with a hard expression, as if about to ask you something scathing. <br><br> You feel a pinprick of danger in your chest: you are perilously close to revealing yourself. You dip a curtsy and mutter an excuse, drifting away across the grass before they can question you further. By the time the real Lady Tamara returns, you are back in your true form and clothes, and doing your best to look innocuous. <br><br> <<include "lavinetarrives">> <<else>> Xirxe huffs impatiently while Adem rolls his eyes. <br><br> "We just said why we're keeping it quiet," Xirxe says in a scathing voice. "Because we don't know who to trust here, and whether Lavinet or Auberon is behind any of these… schemes. Until then, we play things close to the chest. Honestly, Tamara, where is your head? You seem… scattered, of a sudden. It's not like you." <br><br> "It's because she's thinking too hard about bedding you, Xirxe," Adem says sweetly. "Or me." <br><br> Xirxe nudges him sharply, though xe represses a smile. "Not here, you moony fool." <br><br> Okay, time to go. You make your excuses and drift away, ducking into a private back garden and changing back into your real form. By the time you go back to the party, Tamara has returned and they've all broken away from each other to talk to other people, casual and smiling as anything. You slip back into the crowd, and no one realizes that anything was ever amiss. <br><br> <<include "lavinetarrives">> <</if>><</nobr>>

"That has been a long-standing theory," Adem says in approving tones. "And it would be explain the fire and smoke. But there have been other incidents—the wind ripping down whole houses, fields being swallowed up by the earth, towns being flooded. I don't think illusions account for that." Something clicks in your mind. Fire, wind, earth, and water? "Elemental magic." "Yes," Xirxe says, drawing a stick of charch out of xer suit pocket and lighting it. "Except, as we know from our source—it's not really <i>magic</i> at all." You chat a bit more, then slip away with a demure excuse once you sense the real Tamara will return to the circle soon. Once you find a quiet back garden, you shift back into your true form, pondering the valuable new information you've picked up. <<include "lavinetarrives">>

It comes out sure and confident, and Xirxe sighs while Adem nods in agreement. "You two are peas in a pod," Xirxe says in disgust. <<include "ademagrees">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "lavinetarrivesi">><</link>></center>

There's a sudden commotion near the garden entrance, and then suddenly Lavinet appears, wearing a near-translucent golden gown with the sleeves baring her perfect shoulders. She glides over to you and clasps your hands, her painted lips quirking in a practiced smile. "Darling!" She leans over to kiss your cheek in greeting, then murmurs, "Anything?" <<nobr>><<if $elementalsknow is true>> "Later," you murmur back, and she squeezes your hands before letting go and stepping away. <<else>> You shake your head, and her smile doesn't even twitch as she steps away. <</if>><</nobr>> You watch her make her circuit around the garden, coaxing a few laughing nobles to eat and kissing Pendric and Clara with sparkling fond delight. Eventually she makes her way back over to you and says, snapping her fan open to cover her mouth: "I'm so sorry for the delay, dear. My father and I were arguing again. Not about you—betrothal nonsense. No, let's not speak of your findings here. Too many sharp ears around, I think. Are you settling in all right?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Just fine, thank you."' 'justfine6thank'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'m not expecting to \'settle in\', because I won\'t be staying here long."' 'imnot6expecting'>><<setlavinet -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"It\'s a delight to be here, honestly."' 'itsa6delight'>><<setcharisma +1>><<setlavinet +1>><<if $gender is "male">><<set $lavinetromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'You blink, thrown off by her constant changes in topic.' 'youblink6thrown'>><<setintelligence -1>><<setcharisma -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Lavinet smiles. "Very good. And everyone's been treating you well? No unkind words being bandied around?" <<include "lavinetarrivesii">>

Lavinet's expression doesn't change. "You never know, darling. And has everyone been treating you well? No unkind comments or anything like that? I won't brook any unpleasantness towards you." <<include "lavinetarrivesii">>

Who would frown at a soft bed and luxurious surroundings? Lavinet smiles. "Very good. And everyone's been treating you well? No one's said anything unkind?" <<include "lavinetarrivesii">>

Lavinet smiles as if you were some provincial buffoon struggling to keep up, and pats your hand. "I'm going to assume that everyone has been treating you well? No unkind words when I'm not around?" <<include "lavinetarrivesii">>

You remember Lady Isolde's note suddenly. When you tell Lavinet about it, her face remains perfectly placid—but you notice how her gloved fingers tighten imperceptibly over her fan. "I see," she says sweetly. She lays a hand on your forearm. "How very kind of Lady Isolde to invite you to her parlor. That's an honor reserved only for her closest friends! What a generous, lovely gesture!" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Lavinet, your... your nails are digging into my arm."' 'lavinetyour6your'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"So... are you saying to go? Not go?"' 'soare6you'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Why do you think she did it?"' 'whydo6youthink'>><</link>></li> </ul>

"Are they? I'm terribly sorry, darling." She's still smiling, but her eyes are livid. "I am very interested to know exactly what Lady Isolde would need to talk to you about. It must be terribly important, to pull you away from your work and mission. But I'm sure it's all very worthwhile and proper. Lady Isolde wouldn't act otherwise." <<include "lavinetarrivesiii">>

"Why, to not attend would be a terrible insult and would cause needless friction between yourself and Lady Isolde," Lavinet chides. "You must go, darling!" Then she tilts her regal head. "I am very interested to know exactly what Lady Isolde would need to talk to you about. It must be terribly important, to pull you away from your work and mission. But I'm sure it's all very worthwhile and proper. Lady Isolde wouldn't act otherwise." <<include "lavinetarrivesiii">>

"I would never presume to speak on Lady Isolde's behalf." She smiles even wider, but her eyes are livid. "I am very interested to know exactly what Lady Isolde would need to talk to you about. It must be terribly important, to pull you away from your work and mission. But I'm sure it's all very worthwhile and proper. Lady Isolde wouldn't act otherwise." <<include "lavinetarrivesiii">>

Then she bends close to you, and you notice that she's wearing a different perfume from yesterday's, something citrus-y and herbal rather than sweet. You wonder if it means anything, the way fans or colors do. "Tread carefully," she murmurs. "You must go and see what she's up to, darling, for plans are better countered in the light than the dark. But be aware that every tiny thing might be a signal to her and others, whether you know it or not. To attend a private meeting with her toes the line; it indicates that you see her as an authority here, as equally answerable to as me. Make it clear that you're answering her invitation as a courtesy, not because you felt obligated to obey her summons. And don't accept drink or food from her, and don't stay longer than you have to. Otherwise people are going to be very confused about whose side you're on." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I am not some toy to fight over."' 'iam6not'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"There are far more important things going on, you know. People have lost their homes."' 'thereare6far'>><<setlavinet -3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Oh, sod it. This is too confusing."' 'ohsod6it'>><<setintelligence -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Fine, I\'ll go, but I\'ll be careful."' 'fineill6go'>><<setlavinet +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Can\'t you come with me?"' 'cantyou6come'>><<setlavinet +1>><<if $gender is "male">><<set $lavinetromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'m on no one\'s side except the Shepherds. I\'m doing my job, that\'s all."' 'imon6no'>><<setloyal +4>><<setlavinet +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'m on no one\'s side except my own."' 'imon6noonesside'>><<setloyal -10>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setlavinet -3>><<set $lavinetromanceflag -= 1>><</link>></li> </ul>

"No, of course not, darling," Lavinet says pleasantly. "Only, 'ristos always look at everything like a game, and we are all pawns on the board—each and every one of us. Do not be a pawn on Lady Isolde's side." <<include "lavinetarrivesiv">>

For once, Lavinet's eyes flash with anger—but when she speaks again, her voice is light and pleasant. "I'm aware," she says, unreadable behind her courtier's smile. "It is the reason why I called you here in the first place, after all." <<include "lavinetarrivesiv">>

Lavinet laughs softly. "I wish I could say that," she says. "I do not have the liberty of quitting the game when it becomes too complex. But, whatever you decide, dear—I'll support you." <<include "lavinetarrivesiv">>

"Good," Lavinet says, snapping shut her fan in a businesslike way. "And don't agree to a thing. You never know what…" A servant walks by, and her tone changes. "…what marvelous treats she might be serving, and we're having a large dinner." <<include "lavinetarrivesiv">>

Lavinet laughs lightly, tapping you with her fan. "Aren't you sweet! No, it would be a terrible insult to Lady Isolde. When she invites you alone, you cannot bring a companion with you. Even a companion as insightful as me." <<include "lavinetarrivesiv">>

Lavinet smiles. "That's very admirable, dear," she says. The way she says it sounds almost pitying. <<include "lavinetarrivesiv">>

Lavinet smiles, but it somehow seems cold and sharp this time. "As are we all, my dear," she says, her eyes glittering with an emotion you can't name. <<include "lavinetarrivesiv">>

You spend some time mingling with the picnickers for a while, making conversation until a surprise performer—some sort of acrobatic harlequin—leaps out into the garden to several cries of delight. (He's dressed in something resembling Chandry's usual outfit, which is… disconcerting. But when you try to ask him about it, the harlequin mimes for silence.) After that, the aristocrats go back to being utterly preoccupied, so you decide to slip back inside the estate. You still have some time before dinner, and the others are all still busy with whatever they're doing. The only thing left for you to do is accept Lady Isolde's invitation and meet her in her private parlor—or not. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'You decide to attend. You want to know what she\'s up to.' 'isoldesparlor'>><<set $nobles += 3>><<setcharisma +1>><<setcunning +1>><<setcourage +1>><<setintelligence +1>><<setlavinet +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'You decide to snub her and not attend. You\'re not going to waste time with someone so unpleasant to you.' 'youdecide6to'>><<set $nobles -= 3>><<setreputation -1>><<setcharisma -1>><<setcourage -2>><<setintelligence -2>><<settallys +3>><<setbriony +1>><<setayla +1>><<setlavinet -3>><</link>></li> </ul>

You decide to spend the extra time interrogating the servants around the palace. They don't know much, but it's better than talking to Isolde. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "reconvene">><</link>></center>

<<set $sawisolde to true>>You ask a servant where Lady Isolde's apartments are, and he immediately leads you into the east wing of the estate, to a set of white-and-gold gilded doors. He knocks and murmurs something to the servant who pokes her head out; then <i>she</i> disappears and murmurs something to someone else. Eventually you're allowed inside, though Isolde's servant shoots a contemptuous glance at your shoes. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "isoldesparlori">><</link>></center>

You're led into a sumptuous parlor decked out in pale sea-green and pink. Lounging on one cream-colored chaise is Auberon, who hardly looks up at you as you enter; and, of course, Isolde, who nods from her seat by the window and lazily gestures for you to sit anywhere. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Stand uncomfortably in the middle of the room.' 'isoldesparlorii'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Sit in the chair across from Isolde.' 'isoldesparlorii'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Sit in the chair beside Auberon.' 'isoldesparlorii'>><</link>></li> </ul>

"I'm glad you could… make it," Isolde says, half-covering her mouth in a yawn. "It's a pleasure to… speak with you. Alone." Her words keep trailing off, as if she can't be bothered to finish her sentences. "May I offer you a drink? Perhaps some limona? It's imported from the South." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Thank you, that would be kind."' 'isoldesparloriii'>><<setloyal -5>><<setcunning -3>><<setintelligence -3>><<setcourage +3>><<setcharisma +1>><<set $nobles -= 5>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I don\'t drink."' 'isoldesparloriii'>><<setloyal +3>><<setcunning +3>><<set $nobles += 5>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Alcohol is forbidden to Mages, as I\'m sure you\'re aware."' 'isoldesparloriii'>><<setloyal +5>><<setcunning +3>><<setintelligence +1>><<set $nobles += 5>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Water is fine, thank you."' 'isoldesparloriii'>><<set $nobles += 3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"No. Let\'s just get straight to business."' 'isoldesparloriii'>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setcharisma -5>><<set $nobles -= 5>><</link>></li> </ul>

Isolde smiles. "Of course." Auberon sits up, then, and regards you keenly, pinning you to the spot with his molten brown eyes. He's wearing a red military coat today, lined all over with silver buttons, while Isolde is dressed in a swan-gray skirt that looks like it's made from mist. "Have you uncovered anything in your investigation?" You narrow your eyes at him. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Why do you want to know?"' 'whydo6youwant'>><<setcunning +1>><<setcharisma -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"That\'s for myself and Lady Lavinet to discuss; not you."' 'answertome'>><<setlavinet +3>><<setloyal +1>><<setcourage +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I don\'t answer to you."' 'answertome'>><<setcourage +3>><<setcompassionate -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"No, unfortunately." <b>[LIE]</b>' 'nounfortunately6lie'>><<setcunning +3>><<set $nobles -= 5>><</link>></li> </ul>

Auberon scoffs. "Because it's a matter that concerns all of us, of course," he says impatiently. "We are all imperiled, trapped here in this cursed estate while the walls are besieged by—demons and faeries. Of course I want to know any news you <i>Shepherds</i> might have." <<include "isoldesparloriv">>

Auberon's eyes light up with a dangerous glint. "I am a lord," he says softly. "One day to be a marquis. And you are a mere officer, one who serves the very Autarch whose ancestors elevated my family. You answer to me if I say you answer to me." <<include "isoldesparloriv">>

Auberon's eyes light up triumphantly, as if expecting this. "I see." <<include "isoldesparloriv">>

"Do you think you will be successful at stopping these attacks?" Isolde cuts in. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Very successful."' 'isoldesparlorv'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I haven\'t failed yet."' 'isoldesparlorv'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"There\'s no way to tell. It\'s a complicated process."' 'isoldesparlorv'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I don\'t like to bet on the outcome of these things."' 'isoldesparlorv'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I couldn\'t say."' 'isoldesparlorv'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Auberon and Isolde glance at each other, conversing silently in head shakes and frowns. Finally Isolde turns back to you as Auberon makes a show of going back to his book. "We would like to make a proposition for you," Isolde says, attempting to smile; the expression looks ill-fitting on her face, like a gown she hasn't quite grown into. "It's quite a simple one: should you succeed, we would like you to credit us for summoning you here. And should you fail, we'd like you to do nothing at all." You stare at them, and they stare back as if they'd asked you to report the weather outside, as casual and gormless as anything. You process it for a moment. So they want you to give them credit if you manage to stop the attacks, and let Lavinet take the blame if you don't? You don't even really need to ask <i>why</i>. Everyone's made it clear the bad blood that lies between these two groups, and Auberon and Isolde's intentions are plain as day. If you fail, it will make Lavinet look horrible, and she will be blamed for turning to you and the Shepherds when you couldn't actually offer a solution. Her reputation might be ruined—which is exactly what these two want. And if you succeed, they want to take the credit for themselves, denying Lavinet any of the benefits she'd get, despite the risks she took in summoning you here. Auberon and Isolde would look like the heroes who saved the day instead, having the foresight and courage to ask for your help while Lavinet and her family supposedly flailed around, too incompetent to resolve the situation themselves. It's a cunning, underhanded tactic. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Why on earth do you think I would agree to that?"' 'whyon6earth'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"What did you have in mind?"' 'whatdid6youhave'>><<setcunning +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'m not betraying Lady Lavinet."' 'lazy'>><<setloyal +5>><</link>></li> <<if $courage gte 40>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"You two are horrible people."</div>' 'lazy'>><<setcourage +3>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">"You two are horrible people."</div>'>><</link>><</if>> </ul>

"We'll give you gold," Auberon says lazily. <<include "isoldesparlorvi">>

"We'll give you gold," Auberon says lazily, as if you hadn't spoken. <<include "isoldesparlorvi">>

"As well as donate to your Order. And, of course, you will have the nobles' support behind you. We can guarantee it. Minus Lady Lavinet's faction." "Perhaps," Isolde cuts in with a sly smile. "We shall see how long her allies stand by her." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I think we\'re done here." You turn to leave.' 'ithink6weredone'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"...How much gold are we discussing?"' 'howmuch6gold'>><<setcunning +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"How can you guarantee the nobles\' support?"' 'howcan6you'>><</link>></li> <<if $courage gte 55>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"You know what? Go to Hael. I hate rich snobs like you, who think you can buy someone\'s honor, and only care about tearing down other people when you could actually be productive."</div>' 'youknow6whatgotohell'>><<set $nobles -= 5>><<setcourage +3>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">"You know what? Go to Hael. I hate rich snobs like you, who think you can buy someone\'s honor, and only care about tearing down other people when you could actually be productive."</div>'>><</link>><</if>> </ul>

"One thousand deucalions," Isolde says then. She smiles when you pause. "And more for your Order, if you like." "And the backing of the nobles," Auberon reiterates in a drawl. "Public support, celebrity endorsement, status, money, and power. Everything you could ever want." <<include "isoldesparlorvii">>

"One thousand deucalions," Auberon says without blinking. He studies his fingernails. To him, that kind of gold must be a drop in the bucket. "And more to your Shepherds Order, if you want. And, again, the backing of the nobles." <<include "isoldesparlorvii">>

Auberon waves an arrogant hand. "We are… influential," he drawls. "More influential than Lavinet Naveen." Then he shakes his head. "I don't expect you to understand. When we want others to do it our way, they obey." "And don't forget the one thousand deucalions," Isolde says, smiling as if she knows she has you. "That will be all for you. And there will be more for your Order, if you like." <<include "isoldesparlorvii">>

Isolde goes white with fury, though Auberon doesn't blink. "You're not from our world," he says with a condescending little smile. "I wouldn't expect someone like you to understand." <<include "isoldesparlorvii">>

You shake your head, trying to process it all. Could any of this actually be true, or are they deceiving you for some other purpose? Would they really state their intentions so baldly? Don't they know you could go running back to Lavinet to tell her everything—or is that exactly what they want, and there's some other purpose to this you can't see? On the other hand, there's guaranteed noble backing and a lot of money involved… Isolde clears her throat softly. "Well?" she asks. "Whether or not you agree, we will spread the assertion to others, anyway—that we called the Shepherds here, that it was our clever idea that saved the day. We just need your good word to support the claim, when the time comes. Promise that, and we will give you everything you want. And if you fail… then no harm done, and we'll forget any of this ever happened." <<include "thepromise">>

<ul class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("ifi6fail")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"If I fail, I\'ll just blame it on you and say you called me here. How\'s that for a reversal?"</div>' 'ifi6fail'>><<setcunning -1>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("howdo6iknow")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"How do I know you\'ll keep your word?"</div>' 'howdo6iknow'>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link '"Fine. I promise to give you credit if we succeed in our mission. And if that happens, you promise to pay me and the Order, as well as secure the nobles\' backing for our cause."' 'finei6promise'>><<set $auberongold to "all">><<set $auberonsnobles to true>><<setloyal -30>><<setcunning +10>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I want half the money now, as insurance."' 'iwant6half'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"No way. My integrity is not for sale."' 'flush'>><<setcourage +3>><<setloyal +5>><<setcunning -3>><</link>></li> <<if $courage gte 55>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Go fuck yourself." </div>' 'gofuck6yourself'>><<setcourage +5>><<setcunning -5>><<setcharisma -3>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">"Go fuck yourself." </div>'>><</link>><</if>> </ul>

Isolde laughs slightly. "To whom will you say this?" she asks, very amused by your challenge. "You won't be giving your testimony until <i>we</i> choose it, until <i>we</i> arrange an audience with the right people. Until then, you would just be blathering your claims to thin air." <<include "thepromise">>

Auberon <i>tsks</i> at your audacity. "We can sign an agreement," he says. "The agreement, once signed, will stipulate that you must testify to these facts once you are paid the sum we agree upon. The agreement is our protection, to ensure you follow through, and the money will be yours, since you will get exactly what you want and nothing will stop you from testifying." <<include "thepromise">>

/* comment set shepherdsgold +2000, setgold +1000 */ Auberon and Isolde smile, every inch the sleek, sharp-toothed cats they are. "Wonderful." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "finei6promisei">><</link>></center>

You sign a short agreement vowing to give your word that their claims are true, should you ever be summoned pr prompted to do so—and that you won't breathe a word of this arrangement to another soul. Auberon and Isolde don't say anything else as you scribble your signature down, and you leave with the distinct feeling that you might have just signed a deal with the devil. At least the fact that your pockets will be full will make up for it... <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "reconvene">><</link>></center>

Auberon scoffs. "Fine," he says with an airy wave of his hand. "Five hundred deucalions, now. My seneschal will see to it." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Deal."' 'fine'>><<setgold + 500>><<set $auberonsnobles to true>><<set $auberongold to "half">><<setloyal -30>><<setcunning +15>><<setcharisma +1>><<setgold +500>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"On second thought, no. I\'m not going to do this."' 'flush'>><<set $nobles -= 5>><<setloyal +5>><</link>></li> </ul>

/* comment set shepherdgold +2000, setgold +500 */ Auberon and Isolde smile, every inch the sleek, sharp-toothed cats they are. "Wonderful." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "finei">><</link>></center>

You sign a short agreement vowing to give your word that their claims are true, should you ever be summoned pr prompted to do so—and that you won't breathe a word of this arrangement to another soul. Auberon and Isolde don't say anything else as you scribble your signature down, and you leave with the distinct feeling that you might have just signed a deal with the devil. At least your pockets are full. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "reconvene">><</link>></center>

Auberon's face clouds over in a terrible flush of anger. Then Isolde lays a hand on his forearm, and the expression smooths away into that implacable mask. "Very well," he says, flicking his fingers. "Then I suppose we have nothing more to discuss." His servant hustles you out as if afraid the noble might draw a gun on you. You leave with the feeling that you just dodged a literal bullet. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "reconvene">><</link>></center>

Auberon stands abruptly, as if to hit you. Your hand drops down to your weapon, and he pauses; Isolde tugs at his arm, hissing, "Sit <i>down</i>!" The young lord stares at you for one long moment, his dark eyes bright and hateful. Then he makes a face, as if he would spit, and gestures sharply with his head. "Get out." "Gladly." You turn on your heel and stride out, carrying the distinct feeling with you that not all attacks are from without—and not all monsters look like Endarkened. A cold chill settles over your heart. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "reconvene">><</link>></center>

/* "comment: adjust this for other paths" */ By the time you return to your rooms, it's just a few minutes before dinner time. You wash and dress hurriedly, and it's no time at all before you hear a knock on your door. It's Tallys, wearing her uniform as usual, and Briony, dressed in a new short dress with a pale blue tulle skirt and studded all over with striking, metallic-gold cherry blossoms. Beside her, Ayla is dressed in a very bold violet suit with pockets she seems to be enjoying. She looks away at your stare. "Lavinet offered to dress us up," she mutters. "Free clothes." Briony does a little twirl. "I love her." Tallys clears her throat. "Shall we discuss what we've uncovered today?" "Ah, yes!" Briony bops her fist into her palm. "I'll go first. The guards initially reported what we pretty much knew: they've been seeing to a lot of refugees, there's a bit of stealing here and there, but other than that, there wasn't too much to say. They hadn't really seen anything out of the ordinary, and nothing went through the front gates on the night that fire was thrown through the estate's window, over from the north—there's just sheer cliff over there, so no one knew how or where the fire came from. <i>But</i>—and this took a lot of pressing and wheedling—I finally got one guard to admit that she'd seen something that night. She said it looked like a big torch flame emerging from the trees of Thielwood. Then the flame seemed to float into the air, and spiral up and up into the sky—and then a piece of it broke off, and that was what went through the window." "Why didn't the guard report what she saw?" you ask. "Lavinet hasn't said anything like that." Briony blushes. "If we're being frank—she was, er, having a rendezvous of her own, and she didn't want to admit to her superiors that she was somewhere she shouldn't be. The only way she could have seen the fire from that direction was if she'd deserted her post that night—which she had. We're lucky she saw anything at all, since she was quite busy at the time… if her report is anything to go by." Ayla grunts. "That's interesting, because what I heard from the refugees was that they saw lots of strange currents in the air, right before their villages would get attacked. Almost like dust devils—you know, whirlwinds? Maybe they're what directs the flame?" "This is all starting to sound like Elemental magic," Tallys says, "not Endarkened working. I didn't get much from those scholars, but they did say they were focusing their efforts on researching rivers—because they'd heard reports that the rivers in the affected areas were flowing backwards, sometimes even flooding the fields. It must be Elementalists, yes?" "Where'd a bunch of Elementalists come from, though?" Ayla asks. "How'd they know to gather? And why are they attacking Lockwood, of all places? If they're rebels, you'd think they'd storm Haven, or some more important city." "Maybe they bear a grudge against Lockwood specifically?" Briony hazards. "Maybe this is about something the Naveens did?" "I looked into that, too," Tallys says. "That perhaps this is—a retribution or revenge for something." "And?" you ask. "Did you discover anything?" Tallys shakes her head slowly. "The Naveens keep impeccable records. They built this town five hundred or six hundred years ago, and they've kept their noses out of most trouble since. There's the usual political feuding with other noble houses, of course, and once it almost came to a minor civil war—but that was so long ago, I can't imagine the remnants of a defunct aristocratic family would be taking their revenge now." "So we're right back where we started," Ayla says, crossing her arms. "Elementalist Mages. That's the most likely scenario." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"No, something still isn\'t adding up."' 'nosomething6still'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"If it\'s Elementalists, maybe we can recruit them."' 'ifits6elementalists'>><<setcunning +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"That sounds plausible..."' 'reconvenei'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Ayla scowls. "Well, what?" "I agree with <<c firstname>>," Tallys says, looking pensive. "It just feels like we're missing something." <<include "reconvenei">>

Tallys gives you a rather sarcastic look. "I'm aware that you love recruiting people, <<c firstname>>," she says, "but it's a rather different thing to go from recruiting Mages or Hunters who did nothing wrong and who volunteered their services to—recruiting people who have attacked innocent civilians and destroyed homes." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"We don\'t know why they\'re doing this, if it is indeed Mages."' 'wedont6knowwhy'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I suppose that\'s true."' 'reconvenei'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Tallys raises an eyebrow. "Could anything justify this destruction?" You shrug. "I'd rather wait before passing judgment. And it's worth nothing that no one has died—yet." "Yeah, they were just driven out into the cold to starve!" Ayla jeers. <<include "reconvenei">>

"And what did you find out, <<c firstname>>?" Briony asks, turning to you. "Anything useful?" <<nobr>><<if $elementalsknow is true>> You nod. "Like you all, I heard a lot of talk about elements. I also learned one other key tidbit: whatever is happening, it's similar to magic, but it's not quite that." <br><br> There's a reverberating pause for a moment. <br><br> "So… <i>not</i> Elementalists?" Ayla asks. <br><br> "Then what?" Tallys muses. "Endarkened? But why go through such a ruse? To pin blame on Elementalist Mages? Why them specifically?" <br><br> "I mean… is there some sort of other creature tied to the natural elements?" Briony asks innocently. "Something that's not Endarkened or Mage at all, but totally different?" <br><br> Another pause. <br><br> <<if $intelligence gte 70>> "Elementals," you, Tallys, and Ayla say at once. Briony blinks, startled. <<else>> "Elementals," Tallys and Ayla say at the same time. Briony blinks, startled. <</if>> <br><br> "Elementals?" she echoes. "What are those?" <br><br> Sometimes you forget that she has amnesia. "Elementals are… well, beings tied to the elements," you say. "Some say they were among the first children of the gods, older even than the Elves. There were the Flamelings, the Sylphs, the Hill Folk, and the Undine…. among others." <br><br> "Fire, air, earth, and water," Briony says, looking droll. She scrunches her nose. "That seems so obvious. Why didn't it occur to us sooner?" <br><br> "Because the Elementals vanished close to a thousand years ago," Tallys says, crossing her arms. "They haven't been seen since the Flowering Era, the same as the Drakes or the Asteriae. Some say their existence was tied to the gods, and with the gods fading away in their slumber, so too did the Elementals. Other say their lifeblood was magic or the essence of the fey world itself, the stream of ether and <i>taika</i> and otherworldly gift that touches all lives on the Continent—and as those things gradually left the world, they did, too." <br><br> "And some say they just went extinct," Ayla add. "People moved into their habitats and drove them out. They're supposed to be all gone." <br><br> "Well, clearly not," Briony points out. "Since it seems they're the likeliest answer to all this, aren't they?" <br><br> <<page_break "Next" "clearlynotbriony">> <<else>> "Not really," you answer, scratching your arm idly. <br><br> "Oh, did that Isolde tell you anything? Did you go to meet her?" <br><br> But before you can respond, a servant raps on the door and pokes his head in. "Dinner is served, Officers." <br><br> <<include "reconveneii">> <</if>><</nobr>>

She has a point. Elementals would make perfect sense in this situation: beings of fire attacking farms, people made out of smoke and mist? It seems so obvious in hindsight. But the Elementals are extinct. It's like saying fairies are the cause of recent burglaries, or angels are the cause of local fires… Still. It all fits a little too perfectly to ignore. "But why and how would they have come back, if it <i>is</i> the Elementals?" Ayla asks. "And why attack specifically Lockwood?" "Therein lies the question," Tallys says grimly. "And perhaps we will find that out. In the meantime, I think we should adjust our defenses, in case this possibility turns out to be real. <<c firstname>>?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I agree. Let\'s tell the guard what to watch out for. Just in case."' 'iagree6lets'>><<setintelligence +1>><<settallys +1>><<set $elementalguard to true>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I don\'t agree. They\'ll laugh in our faces for proposing such a thing without hard evidence."' 'idont6agree'>><<setintelligence -1>><<settallys -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Tallys nods. "It will be done." <<include "reconveneii">>

Tallys purses her lips, but doesn't argue with you. Ayla sighs and turns away with a shrug. "Well," she says, "now I'm going to dinner with more questions than I had before." <<include "reconveneii">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "reconveneiii">><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<if $elementalsknow is true>> <<set $forgottenpeoples to true>> <<notify_codex_history "The Forgotten Peoples of Blest">> <</if>><</nobr>>You head back down to the dining hall, where Lavinet and the other nobles are just beginning to take their seats. <<nobr>><<if $elementalguard is true>> Tallys disappears briefly to inform the guard of your suspicions, then returns, tight-lipped and unreadable. <</if>><</nobr>> You don't get the chance to say much to Lavinet—she makes a motion with her fan as if to say, <i>Later</i>—before Auberon sits down next to you, Isolde flanking your other side. The table descends into paltry dinner conversation as platters with roast hens are doled out, gleaming with fat and sprinkled with fresh herbs and pearls of wild rice. One male noble you don't recognize compliments Briony on her hair, believing it to be dye, while Pendric plies Ayla for stories of her many travels. Even Clara and Tallys make polite, albeit stiff, conversation at the other end of the table. It almost seems the picture of unity, at least for a brief moment. You'd almost feel halfway content, if not for Auberon sitting coldly on your right side and Isolde picking at her food on your other. Galbert, Lavinet's father, glances up and notices your silence. He frowns, then begins: "Tell me. Do you Shepherds… marry? Or are you devoted only to your work?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I don\'t know, I\'ve never thought about it."' 'idont6knowive'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"We\'re not allowed to fraternize with each other. Technically. I\'m pretty sure no one follows that rule."' 'werenot6allowed'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"We\'re allowed to marry civilians, though no one has so far."' 'wereallowed6to'>><</link>></li> <<if $aro is false and $aroace is false>><li><<link '"We\'re not unfeeling. We can fall in love. We just need to put saving lives first, or we retire."' 'werenot6unfeeling'>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $aro is true or $aroace is true>><li><<link '"I\'m the wrong person to ask. I don\'t really feel romantic love, so..."' 'imthe6wrong'>><</link>></li><</if>> </ul>

Galbert grimaces, though why, you have no idea. <<include "reconvenev">>

He looks down at his plate. "I… see." <<include "reconvenev">>

Galbert smiles grimly. "But that does not answer my question," he says. "Do you marry?" "We fall in love." "That," he says, "is something else entirely." <<include "reconvenev">>

Galbert snorts. "That doesn't have much to do with my question. Marriage and romance are entirely different." <<include "reconvenev">>

"Tell me," Lavinet says then from the other end of the table, "how do you feel about arranged marriages, <<c firstname>>? The idea of being promised to someone for advantage?" "Lavinet," her father says in warning tones. Lavinet ignores him entirely. "Would you marry someone if it served your Order?" she asks. "If it was for the good of everybody but yourself?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I\'d rather die."' 'reconvenevi'>><<setlavinet +1>><<if $gender is "male">><<set $lavinetromanceflag += 1>><</if>><<setayla +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Maybe if I\'d never found anyone, and was getting on in years?"' 'reconvenevi'>><<setlavinet -3>><<set $lavinetromanceflag -= 1>><<setloyal +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"What kind of advantages would it bring?"' 'whatkind6ofadvantages'>><<setcunning +2>><<setlavinet -3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I find the concept repugnant. I know someone who was betrothed to someone much older than her. It was miserable."' 'ifind6the'>><<if $prihineromance is true>><<setcourage +3>><<setintelligence -3>><<elseif $prihinedead is true or $bothdead is true>><<setlavinet -5>><<setintelligence -3>><<else>><<setlavinet +3>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'ll never marry anyone, period."' 'reconvenevi'>><<if $brionyromanceflag gte 5>><<set $brionyromanceflag -= 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <<if $aroace is false and $aro is false>><li><<link '"I\'ll only marry for love."' 'reconvenevi'>><<set $brionyromanceflag += 1>><<if $gender is "male">><<set $lavinetromanceflag += 1>><</if>><<settallys +1>><</link>></li><</if>> </ul>

Lavinet's eyes flash. "Does it matter?" she asks tightly. "You'll be wed to them for life." You shrug. "Of course it matters. I can't weigh my decision if I don't know the pros and cons." <<include "reconvenevi">>

<<nobr>><<if $prihineromance is true>> Lavinet's eyes glitter with an unknown light. "Yes," she says. "I know someone like that, too." <<elseif $prihinedead is true or $bothdead is true>> Lavinet's eyes glitter with an unknown light. "Yes," she says softly. "I knew someone like that, too." <<else>> Lavinet's eyes glitter with an unknown light. "Yes," she says. "I know someone like that, too." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "reconvenevi">>

Galbert opens his mouth, presumably to repudiate you—but whatever he wants to say, you never find out, because it's at that exact moment that something fiery smashes through the skylight of the dining hall and lands, burning, not five feet from Lavinet's chair. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span><i>Smash!</i></span></div></div>' "reconvenevii">><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<if $elementalguard is true>><<set $anganthealth to 75>><<else>><<set $anganthealth to 100>><</if>><<set $angantpower to 15>><<set $defensenow to false>><<if settings.music is true>><<audio "battle2" volume 0.1 loop play>><</if>><</nobr>>Screaming. Glass and porcelain breaking. Stampeding. That's all you hear for that split second it takes you to process what's going on. The fiery thing—tall, man-shaped, licked all over with orange flame—lunges at Lavinet, roaring in a crackling voice that sounds like many trees burning. She shoves her chair back and hurls it at the creature, far quicker than you would expect; Briony darts through and slams her bare fist into the thing's face, sending it flying through the air at breakneck speed and crashing into the far wall. A tapestry is set aflame. Isolde beside you screams and screams. A servant is dragging Galbert away—Lavinet is shouting, "My lance! My lance!"—and tendrils of water are snaking around Briony, wrapping around her neck, cutting off her air, and a huge boulder-like thing is dropping in through the hole in the ceiling, and Ayla is sending lashes of wind at a near-invisible person that blows the wind right back. The air howls and shrieks, as during a hurricane. The fiery creature staggers to its feet again and locks eyes with you from across the room. Its—his—eyes are burning, and you know in a heartbeat that this is an Elemental, a Flameling—and he is a thinking, breathing sentient being. And he is very, very angry. <<include "attackangant">>

<ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Draw your weapon and attack!' 'drawyour6weapon'>> <<if $mainweapon is "gun">> <<if $gun gte 65 or $legendarygun is true>><<set $anganthealth -= 10>><<setgun +3>><<setstrength +3>> <<else>> <<if $defensenow is true>><<sethealth -5>> <<else>><<set $health -= $angantpower>> <</if>> <</if>> <<elseif $mainweapon is "sword">> <<if $sword gte 65 or $legendarysword is true>><<set $anganthealth -= 10>><<setsword +3>><<setstrength +3>> <<else>> <<if $defensenow is true>><<sethealth -5>> <<else>><<set $health -= $angantpower>> <</if>> <</if>> <<elseif $mainweapon is "dagger">> <<if $dagger gte 75 or $legendarydagger is true>><<set $anganthealth -= 10>><<setdagger +3>><<setstrength +3>> <<else>> <<if $defensenow is true>><<sethealth -5>> <<else>><<set $health -= $angantpower>> <</if>> <</if>> <<else>> <<if $bow gte 75 or $legendarybow is true>><<set $anganthealth -= 10>><<setbow +3>><<setstrength +3>> <<else>> <<if $defensenow is true>><<sethealth -5>> <<else>><<set $health -= $angantpower>> <</if>> <</if>> <</if>><</link>></li> <<if ($magic gte 60 and $astral gte 50) or ($specialization is "battle" and $astral gte 40)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Slam the Elemental into the ground with a kinetic burst!</div>' 'slamthe6elemental'>><<set $anganthealth -= 10>><<setastral +3>><<setmagic +3>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Slam the Elemental into the ground with a kinetic burst!</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("createa6shield")>><li><<link 'Create a Shield so that you can\'t be burned!' 'createa6shield'>><<if ($magic gte 50 and $astral gte 50) or ($specialization is "battle" and $astral gte 40)>><<set $defensenow to true>><<setstrength +1>><<elseif $defense gte 10>><<sethealth -5>><<else>><<sethealth -20>><</if>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if ($specialization is "elementalist" and $astral gte 50) or ($magic gte 40 or $astral gte 60)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Douse the Elemental with water!</div>' 'dousethe6elemental'>><<set $anganthealth -= 15>><<setmagic +3>><<setintelligence +2>><<setastral +3>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Douse the Elemental with water!</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($specialization is "wild" and $psionic gte 60) and $compassionate lte 50>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Sic the palace hounds on your enemy!</div>' 'sicthe6palace'>><</link>><<set $anganthealth -= 5>><<setmagic +3>><<setpsionic +3>><<setcompassionate -1>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Sic the palace hounds on your enemy!</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($specialization is "enchanter" and $psionic gte 50) or $psionic gte 55>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Seize control of the Elemental\'s mind and turn him against the others!</div>' 'seizecontrol6ofthe'>><<set $anganthealth -= 15>><<setmagic +3>><<setpsionic +3>><<setcunning +2>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Seize control of the Elemental\'s mind and turn him against the others!</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($specialization is "shifter" and $arcane gte 50) or $arcane gte 55>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Shift the floor beneath him into a lake of water!</div>' 'shiftthe6floor'>><<set $anganthealth -= 15>><<setmagic +3>><<setarcane +3>><<setcunning +1>><<setintelligence +2>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Shift the floor beneath him into a lake of water!</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($specialization is "binder" and $arcane gte 50) or $arcane gte 55>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Activate a runetrap in the ground and bind him into place!</div>' 'activatea6runetrap'>><<set $anganthealth -= 10>><<setmagic +3>><<setarcane +3>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Activate a runetrap in the ground and bind him into place!</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($specialization is "conjurer" and $arcane gte 65) or $arcane gte 70>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Conjure a spirit of ice to fight him!</div>' 'conjurea6spirit'>><<setarcane +3>><<setmagic +3>><<set $anganthealth -= 10>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Conjure a spirit of ice to fight him!</div>'>><</link>><</if>> </ul>

Luckily, you had the wherewithal to remain armed even when you came to the dinner table—despite protests from servants that it was unseemly. You rip your $mainweapon free and face the Flameling, who lets out another crackling war cry and charges you. You feel the air heat—and then burn—instantly, the same way you feel the flash of white pain just before you touch a stove. The Flameling is in front of you in an instant, his limbs covered with orange fire, and then he's rearing his fist back. <<nobr>><<if $mainweapon is "gun">> <<if $gun gte 65 or $legendarygun is true>> Your gun flashes up, and you fire; flame blooms at the Elemental's shoulder, accompanied by the smell of gunpowder and cordite. He grunts—a surprisingly human sound, accompanied by a very human grimace of pain—before he skitters away, dodging the rain of bullets you send at him. Strange, lava-like blood drips on the floor and even melts through the wood like acid. <<else>> Your gun flashes up, but you're too slow to squeeze the trigger in time; the Flameling seizes the end of your gun, and your hand flares with pain as heat shoots up the barrel. Crying out, you drop your gun and roll, dodging the Elemental's next fiery blows as he attempts to hurl flame down onto your head. You narrowly escape with your life, and the smell of singed cloth and hair fills the room. <</if>> <<elseif $mainweapon is "sword">> <<if $sword gte 65 or $legendarysword is true>> You raise your sword in parrying position just in time to block the Elemental's blow. You hear the hiss of flame and burning metal, and for a moment you think your sword might melt into a metallic puddle, right out of your hand. <<if $legendarysword is true>> Clarion screams with fury, then erupts into blue fire, the ethereal flames licking back against the Elemental's native heat. <</if>> <br><br> You ignore the searing pain in your arm and stab once, twice, thrice; the Flameling dodges your blow the first time, but you're too quick, and your sword slices into his shoulder and arm. He grunts in pain—a surprisingly human sound—before ducking away, avoiding the bite of your blade. Strange, lava-like blood drips onto the floor and even melts through the wood, eating into the planks like acid. <<else>> You raise your sword in attempt to block the Elemental's blow, but find that you move too slow; the blade knocks against his arm at an awkward angle, and it takes nothing at all for him to sweep it out of your grip. Before you can recover, the Elemental seizes your forearm, and you feel a flash of searing pain. You kick out, causing him to skip backwards, but your boot half-melts and you're left clutching your wrist, the smell of singed cloth and flesh filling the air around you. <</if>> <<elseif $mainweapon is "dagger">> <<if $dagger gte 75 or $legendarydagger is true>> <<if $legendarydagger is true>> You raise one of your knives—Whisper—in a parrying position just in time to block the Elemental's blow. <<else>> You raise your dagger in a parrying position just in time to block the Elemental's blow. <</if>> You hear the hiss of flame and burning metal, and for a moment you think your blade might melt into a metallic puddle, right out of your hand. <<if $legendarydagger is true>> Your knives seem to flare with rage, and Requiem smells unnervingly like superheated blood. <</if>> <br><br> You ignore the singed feeling in your hand and slash once, twice, thrice; the Flameling dodges your blow the first time, but you're too quick, and your dagger slices into his shoulder and arm. He grunts in pain—a surprisingly human sound—before ducking away, avoiding the bite of your blade. Strange, lava-like blood drips on the floor and even melts through the wood, eating through it like acid. <<else>> You raise your dagger in attempt to block the Elemental's blow, but find that you move too slow; the blade knocks against his arm at an awkward angle, and it takes nothing at all for him to sweep it out of your grip. Before you can recover, the Elemental seizes your forearm, and you feel a flash of searing pain. You kick out, causing him to skip backwards, but your boot half-melts and you're left clutching your wrist, the smell of singed cloth and flesh filling the air around you. <</if>> <<else>> <<if $bow gte 75 or $legendarybow is true>> You draw your bowstring back with the ease of drawing a knife through butter, and the wood sings beneath your hand. You let loose a flurry of arrows, one an explosive for good measure, and you watch as their points sink into the Flameling's flesh and burst into flame. He grunts in pain—a surprisingly human sound—before surging towards you, a tide of fire too fast to track. You leap out of the way, and he feints back, dripping strange, lava-like blood onto the floor. It eats through the wood like acid. <<else>> You raise your bow and let loose an arrow, but it glances harmlessly off of the Elemental's shoulder, burning to nothing like a matchstick. He <i>surges</i> at you, a tide of flame too fast to track—and then he seizes your forearm, and you feel a flash of searing pain. You kick out, causing the Flameling to skip backwards, but your boot half-melts, and you're left clutching your wrist, the smell of singed cloth and flesh filling the air around you. <</if>> <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "reconveneviii">>

You lift your hand, gathering the gravity in the room the way a fisherman might bunch his net in his fist—and then you <i>pull.</i> The Elemental slams down into the ground, crushed as if by a falling, invisible anvil. He struggles there for a moment, and you increase the force of your magic until he's crumpled like a bug, flailing weakly and screaming with hoarse, very human-sounding pain. <<include "reconveneviii">>

<<nobr>><<if ($magic gte 50 and $astral gte 50) or ($specialization is "battle" and $astral gte 40)>> You stumble backwards, creating a translucent shield out of hardened air and magic around you just as the Elemental slashes at you with a gout of fire. The fire bounces harmlessly off of you, and the Elemental snarls with anger before diving towards you again. <<include "attackangant">> <<elseif $defense gte 10>> You stumble backwards, and you're not quick enough to form the Shield before the Elemental is upon you, sending gouts of flame your way. You instinctively raise your forearms to block your face, and you feel the heat pass over you—but thankfully, nothing catches on fire. You're wearing enough defensive gear—including your bracers—to protect your flesh… for now. <br><br> The Flameling snarls with anger before diving towards you again. <<include "attackangant">> <<else>> You stumble backwards, and you're not quick or battle-honed enough to form your Shield before the Elemental is upon you, sending gouts of flame your way. You instinctively raise your forearms to block your face… and feel your sleeves catch on fire. <br><br> Frantically, you drop to the ground and roll, feeling heat singe your skin—your hair—your neck—before you manage to smother the flames. Before you can recover, the Elemental is on top of you, trying his damnedest to finish the job. You kick at him, half-melting your boot in the process, before he skitters away. <<include "attackangant">> <</if>><</nobr>>

There are goblets and water pitchers all over the room. It's not a lot, but it's enough liquid to dump on one man made of fire. You gather the water in an arc above you, like someone braiding a rope out of liquid; it gathers in a kind of vortex before dropping on the Flameling like a microburst of heavy rain. Steam explodes throughout the room, obscuring your vision, and somewhere you can hear the Elemental screaming. Was it enough to kill him? Does an Elemental even die if his flames go out? <<include "reconveneviii">>

Lavinet's estate has its own kennel of hunting hounds and mousers. You send out a psionic summons for them, akin to a silent wolf's howl to summon the pack, and within moments they arrive, having burst out of their cages and out of their handlers' holds in a screaming frenzy. Immediately, the largest of them set themselves upon the Flameling, heedless of the danger to themselves as their teeth sink into his fiery flesh. The being gasps, then sends a gout of flame directly into the dogs' faces, forming a whip of heat and light to send them scuttling backwards. The instinctive desire to flee from fire breaks your psychic hold on them, but the pack's intrusion and attacks were just enough to give you an opening. As they flee to all corners of the room, whimpering, you dart in and deliver your own hail of blows on the Elemental, who backs away, disorientated and confused by the assault pressing him in from all sides. <<include "reconveneviii">>

It's never easy, seizing control of a mind you've never encountered before; if done in haste, it can permanently damage the person you're trying to control. In the heat of battle, though, you can't afford mercy to your enemies. Like a rider seizing the reins of a bucking horse, you grab the Flameling's mind and hold on with grim, ruthless strength, dominating him with your will. You get flashes of sentience—a long sleep, his name—before you brush them away like cobwebs and take <i>control</i>. The Flameling's body goes slack, like a puppet with a cut string. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "seizecontrol6ofthei">><</link>></center>

You yank the Elemental around and send him charging at his allies as he lets loose a pained, desperate roar—a strangely familiar sound—bowling a wisp of air over, sending a gout of flame at a thing that looks like a walking tree. It shrieks, its branches all aflame; but it seems Elementals have as much mercy towards their comrades as they do towards their enemies, which is to say none, because one of the beings made of water immediately tackles the Flameling and douses him almost instantly. Unconsciousness comes quickly, and you lose your grip on the being's mind just as steam explodes across the room. <<include "reconveneviii">>

There's an awkward pause as you kneel and slap your hand down on the ground. In order to shift something, you need to have some sort of understanding of what composes it first. You shoot a tendril of awareness down into the floor, rooting around the tiles, probing their essence. Marble, itself swirled and veined with traces of clay, silt, chert, and serpentine… That's enough for you to work with it. You step back, dodging a fiery punch from the Flameling as you do so—then you focus your concentration on the ground beneath his feet and <i>push</i>. The marble flickers uncertainly, then shifts to water before your very eyes; the Flameling stumbles, trying to leap out of the way, but you accounted for that and stretch the water into a wide pond too large for him to avoid. He stumbles into the turbulent green-blue water, catching himself on his hands and knees and screaming as the flames on his limbs burst into painful steam. You cover your face with your sleeve to avoid being burned by the gouts of hot air, smiling grimly to yourself. Let's see him flounder out of the very element that could kill him. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "reconveneviii">><</link>></center>

You have just enough time to slap a pre-made sigil on the ground before the Flameling bears down on you, roaring as his fiery fists swing. You leap back, speak the spellword—and the sigil erupts into blinding light just as he steps through it. The Flameling screams as he's forced to his knees, his limbs locked to the ground as if immobilized by powerful magnetic force—and then you're there, <<nobr>><<if $mainweapon is "sword" or $mainweapon is "dagger">> slashing at his face while he can't defend himself. <<elseif $mainweapon is "bow">> drawing your bowstring back and letting your arrows fly. <<else>> swinging your gun up and pulling the trigger. <</if>><</nobr>> You get one blow in—you hear bone crack like a piece of dry tinder— <<include "reconveneviii">>

<<set $icespirit to "">>You feel around for the bonds you've created with spirits during your training; you don't have any water spirits, but a spirit of winter might do. Each spirit-bond has formed a knot in your soul, the network of thread spreading out in all directions to places you can't quite see. You delicately feel each string, the texture of each carefully memorized and catalogued, before you find the one you're looking for, opening your mind up and whispering… <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Avalan!"' 'conjurea6spiriti'>><<set $icespirit to "Avalan">><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Glacis!"' 'conjurea6spiriti'>><<set $icespirit to "Glacis">><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Hrimfaxi!"' 'conjurea6spiriti'>><<set $icespirit to "Hrimfaxi">><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Iglis!"' 'conjurea6spiriti'>><<set $icespirit to "Iglis">><</link>></li> <li><<link 'That\'s not its name... what was it?...' 'thatsnot6its'>><</link>></li> </ul>

<i>The spirit of winter's name is... </i> <br><br> <<textbox "$icespirit" "">> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>'>><<if $icespirit is "">><<script>> Dialog.setup("Error"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("blankspiritname").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>><<else>><<goto "thatsnot6its2">><</if>><</link>></center>

Speak the spirit's name in order to summon it. <center><<button 'Return'>><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>></center>

"<<c icespirit>>!" you whisper. <<include "conjurea6spiriti">>

And then you tug on the string. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "conjurea6spiritii">><</link>></center>

Nothing happens for a moment. Then: a tiny mote of light pops into existence before you, as faint and glimmering as a firefly. You try and keep your eyes on it even as you dodge the Flameling's kicks and punches; rapidly, the tiny light grows and grows, until it becomes a man-sized whirling window of light in the air. A shining figure immediately hurtles down from the window just as it begins shrinking again; the white shape streaks across the room and sinks into a suit of armor propped up against the far wall. <i>Smart</i>! Using a vessel will help protect the spirit and anchor it to this plane for a longer duration of time. The Flameling immediately changes course to neutralize this new threat, letting loose a warcry that sounds like a volcano erupting. Your ice spirit doesn't even take a moment to adjust to its new body; it tenses, springs, and then the two of them are battling it out, the Flameling doing his best to melt the armor and the spirit within, <<c icespirit>> doing its best to douse the Elemental with ice magic and freeze him in his tracks. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "conjureaspiritiii">><</link>></center>

You watch as <<c icespirit>> suddenly spears the Flameling with a huge icicle, cackling a laugh that sounds like discordant wind-chimes; the Elemental grunts before melting the projectile completely with a burst of flame and issuing a threatening growl. You see your spirit hesitate, gauging the situation—but it's too slow to move before another Flameling charges up behind it and wraps fiery forearms around the suit of armor's torso, locking its metal arms in place and consuming it with fire. The spirit's armor practically vaporizes, like an insect's wings beneath a magnifying glass on a hot and sunny day. You wince, feeling the pain along your connection to the spirit. <<c icespirit>> lets loose a scream like the winter wind, and you feel its presence already loosening from this plane. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '<i>Retreat!</i>' 'retreat6spirit'>><<setcompassionate +5>><</link>></li> <li><<link '<i>No! Keep fighting!</i>' 'nokeep6fighting'>><<setcompassionate -5>><<set $anganthealth -= 5>><</link>></li> </ul>

The spirit immediately dissipates again from your world, fleeing the pain into the disembodiment of the Spirit Realm once more. <<include "reconveneviii">>

The ice spirit struggles weakly as the two Flamelings aim more fire at it; it sends one more lash of ice at its enemies, slicing deep into the first Flameling's face. He scowls and incinerates your spirit into nothing; you feel it flee the mortal realm once again and think, <i>Shit, what other spirits can I call now?</i> <<include "reconveneviii">>

And then, while you're preoccupied, another Elemental barrels into you—the walking, mossy boulder—and it's literally like getting hit by a speeding wagon. The world uproots itself as you are trampled. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span><i>Shit.</i></span></div></div>' "reconveneix">><<if ($briony gt $tallys and $briony gt $ayla) and $briony gt 50>><<elseif ($ayla gt $tallys and $ayla gt $briony) and $ayla gt 50>><<elseif ($tallys gt $ayla and $tallys gt $briony) and $tallys gt 50>><<else>><<sethealth -20>><<set $nobles -= 10>><</if>><<if ($strength gte 70 and $cunning gte 50) and $defense gte 5>><<sethealth -5>><<else>><<sethealth -10>><</if>><</link>></center>

<<friendshipcalc>><<romancecalc>><<nobr>><<if $defensenow is true>> Thankfully, you still have your Shield up, so you only bounce harmlessly down to the ground. Still, it's enough of a fall to disorient you—and from the way the walking boulder looms ominously over you, you'd guess not even a magical ward will stand up to its immense blows for long. If it decides to rain punches down on you, your Shield is eventually going to shatter like glass. <<elseif ($strength gte 70 and $cunning gte 50) and $defense gte 5>> You manage to tuck your body and roll with the momentum of the blow, minimizing the damage to your body, limbs, and head. However, your quick reaction time isn't enough to save you entirely; you look up to see the walking boulder looming over you, looking like it could very easily crush you under its foot. And you won't have time to dodge that. <<else>> You see stars, and not the fun, celestial kind—though there <i>is</i> a hole in the ceiling now, and you can see the heavens staring down at you from the gap. Then your vision shakes, and a screaming, disconnected pain radiates from your shoulder to your neck like a wildfire. You can't quite manage to see straight, and when you try to move, you flop back down to the ground like a boneless fish. What happened? Do you have a concussion? <br><br> The boulder appears directly above you, in perfect position to crush you under its foot, and you curse again. "Shit." <</if>><</nobr>> <<nobr>><<if ((($briony gte $tallys and $briony gte $ayla) and ($briony gt 50)) or ($highestfriendship is "briony") or ($highestromance is "briony" and $brionyromanceflag gte 12)) and $tallysromance is false and $tallyssex is false>> Briony, several yards away and battling her own Elementals, sees the boulder raising its bulky arms to pummel you and shouts, "Okay, <i>now</i> you're pissing me off!" She headbutts the walking tree gripping her hard enough to free herself, then stabs a water creature with Gonturan, leaving the sword impaled within the being's transparent chest. "Get away from <<c firstname>>!" The air around her heats and hums with fury, even as a thin trickle of blood drops down her face. <br><br> Then she comes charging over and slams her fist into the boulder above you with a yell of fury; you see the force of the shockwave traveling down her arm like a line of light. The sheer strength and power of the punch sends the enormous rock Elemental flying through the opposite wall and down the cliff the estate is situated on. The former gladiator turns and sends out a lash of lightning at another boulder, and it shatters into a shower of pulverized, burning dust. <br><br> Briony turns to you, panting lightly as she helps you to your feet and wipes blood out of her eyes. "You okay?" <<if $brionyromance is true or $brionyromanceflag gte 12>> She suddenly embraces you shakily. "Gods—I was so scared for a moment, you looked as if you'd <i>died</i>. I saw red—I could have killed more of them—" She shakes her head, huffing out a trembling breath. "You scared me, sweetheart, darling—you <i>are</i> okay, aren't you?" Her hands are a warm flurry all over you, touching your ribs, your heart, your cheek, your hair. <</if>> <br><br> You feel yourself for broken bones. "I think so. It took me by surprise, and—<i>watch out</i>!" She ducks, and you send a blast of magic hurtling towards a near-invisible warrior raising a blade made of wind and air behind her. The air smells of burning ozone; the warrior dissipates with a scream; and suddenly, you and Briony find yourselves separated by the fray once more. <<elseif ((($ayla gte $tallys and $ayla gte $briony) and ($ayla gt 50)) or ($highestfriendship is "ayla") or (($highestromance is "ayla") and ($aylaromanceflag gte 10)) or ($aylaromanceflag gte 15)) and $tallysromance is false and $tallyssex is false>> Ayla, several yards away and battling her own Elementals, sees the boulder raising its bulky arms to pummel you and yells, "Oh, <i>Hael</i> no!" <br><br> A tree-thing is holding her in both of its branch-like arms; Ayla spits blood in its eyes, then drops lightly to the ground. Then she raises her wind-staff, and the boulder above you immediately leaps up into the air. No, it's being <i>lifted</i> into the air, blown by a spiraling current of wind that quickly forms a ferocious vortex that pulls the very breath from your lungs. The whirlwind slams the boulder around the room before it's shunted through a wall and over the cliffside of the estate outside. You don't even want to know where it lands in the town below. <br><br> Ayla comes running up to you, hauling you to your feet, her lip busted and her eyes wild and sparking. "You alright?" <<if $aylaromanceflag gte 10>> The air around her smells like burning ozone. "Those fuckers—they don't get to <i>touch</i> you—" She looks spitting mad, and she grabs your shoulders roughly. "<i>Are you alright</i>?" she repeats, her voice raw and harsh and even a little desperate. "You scared me <i>shitless,</i> <<c firstname>>!" <</if>> <br><br> You feel yourself for broken bones. "I think I'm okay—I—<i>watch out</i>!" She ducks, and you send a blast of magic hurtling towards a near-invisible warrior raising a blade made of wind and air. The air smells of burning ozone; the warrior dissipates with a scream; and suddenly, you and Ayla find yourselves separated by the fray once more. <<elseif (($tallys gte $ayla and $tallys gte $briony) and ($tallys gt 50)) or ($highestfriendship is "tallys") or ($tallysromance is true) or ($tallyssex is true)>> Tallys, several yards away and battling her own Elementals, sees the boulder raising its bulky arms to pummel you and cries, "Watch out!" <br><br> She raises her bow and lets loose a blindingly-fast flurry of arrows; one is explosive, and it detonates against the boulder on impact, causing the enormous creature to stagger and groan. Tallys takes a running leap while the giant creature is preoccupied, lands on its back, reverses one of her arrows in her grip, and sinks its point into the boulder's eye. It screams and falls to the ground with a great crash, the impact reverberating off the walls like an indoor avalanche. <br><br> Tallys leaps lightly down from the boulder's twitching body and hurries over to you, pulling you to your feet. "Are you all right?" <<if $tallyssex is true or $tallysromance is true>> Seeing you nod faintly, she presses a kiss to your temple. "Oh, <i>elan</i>, my heart, I thought…" She shakes her head; you notice that her hands are trembling as they grasp your arms. "I thought I lost you." <</if>> <br><br> You feel yourself for broken bones. "I think I'm all right. I… <i>Watch out</i>!" She ducks, and you send a blast of magic hurtling towards a near-invisible warrior raising a blade made of wind and air. The air smells of burning ozone; the warrior dissipates with a scream; and suddenly, you and Tallys find yourselves separated by the fray once more. <<else>> You're not able to dodge before the boulder strikes you, and it's like being hit by a pneumatic hammer—you feel the air rushing out of your stomach, and you almost have the terrifying feeling that your ribs have been all shattered. The boulder is ceaseless, ruthless as a machine. In a moment, someone else is yelling—they've thrown a chair, and Lavinet stabs at the boulder with what looks like a rapier or a thin saber—and the creature turns away ponderously, slow and distracted but still immensely powerful. You try to rally your blurry vision and crawl to your feet, spitting blood. In a moment, yet another Elemental is on you, a near-invisible warrior whirling a blade made out of air. You barely manage to feint before your head is lopped off from your shoulders. <</if>><</nobr>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "reconvenex">><</link>></center>

The battle lasts only a few minutes—not even enough time for the guards to storm in—but to you, it feels like a lifetime. Maybe even two. You slash, dodge, hurl light, spill steaming and iridescent Elemental blood, and still your enemies come, pouring down through the hole in the ceiling and hurling themselves at you without remorse. There is no central leadership to target, no discernible pattern to their actions—so there's nothing you can do except wait for one side to be annihilated. You see Ayla flying through the air, Tallys ducking down as a huge piece of rubble is hurled at her. Lavinet using the grand long dinner table as a shield. Briony bats aside another chunk of debris just in time to protect one of the servants—but the next one knocks her off of her feet with a muted <i>oof</i>! <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Keep fighting...</span></div></div>' "reconvenexi">><</link>></center>

And then, all at once: something happens. The Elementals you're fighting suddenly pull away from you, turning as if they'd heard some silent signal. You notice as they go how the enemy backed you all up against the walls, like sheepdogs herding cattle; they were keeping you preoccupied, driving you away from the center of the room, where you could have congregated with your allies and formed a defensive position. But why? Why keep you all scattered? What were they after? And why are most of them retreating now? About three-fourths of them are flowing up to the hole in the ceiling and disappearing into the night—even the boulders, who are carried on a cushion of wind by their nimble Sylph friends. But a few—the vanguard regiment—remain, menacing various groups around the room. You see a pair of Flamelings advancing on Lavinet, who holds up her rapier in grim silence; however, she seems to be fending them off capably, slashing and stabbing with her thin weapon when they get too close. It won't be long before those two are taken care of. But across from Lavinet, too far for her to reach, there's also a cluster of frightened nobles with a huge watery figure leaning over them as it traps them against the far corner of the room. Many of them are sobbing in terror, even though the water Elemental isn't currently moving. Just watching them. Poised. Several nobles who were once holding small, decorative daggers—Pendric, Auberon, and some others chief among them—lie insensate at the creature's feet. You also spot the Flameling who first attacked you, now badly wounded and bleeding heavily; you're not sure why he was left behind, but you can tell he's limping towards the skylight like he still has a chance to get away… Someone screams. "<i>Help</i>!" You only have a moment to act before the Elementals either flee or accomplish whatever it is they've been planning since they burst into the room. Tallys, Ayla, and Briony are all still embroiled in their own rapidfire battles, trying not to get singed or drowned or suffocated or crushed. And what few guards or servants who have managed to burst into the room at this point have unceremoniously been dispatched. What will you do? <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Focus on capturing the wounded Flameling!' 'focuson6capturing'>><<set $nobles -= 15>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setcunning +3>><<setloyal -5>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Focus on protecting the nobles!' 'focuson6protecting'>><<set $nobles += 10>><<setcompassionate +5>><<setcourage +3>><<setloyal +5>><</link>></li> </ul>

You dive towards the injured Flameling, your ears filled with the indignant screams of the nobles as they watch you abandon them to their fate. The Flameling turns, his attention drawn by all the noise—and then you're just a few inches away from him, close enough to feel the volcanic heat of his skin. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "focuson6capturingi">><<if $health gt $anganthealth>><<set $capturedangant to true>><<set $nobles += 5>><<setreputation +5>><<else>><<set $lavinetkidnapped to true>><<sethealth -25>><<set $nobles -= 20>><<setreputation -15>><</if>><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<if $health gt $anganthealth>> The Flameling swipes; you dodge; he feints back; you follow, tracking him all the while like a predator hunting its prey. He tries a new move, spinning himself so quickly that he becomes a tiny tornado of flame, nearly lashing you with stray bursts of fire… but you can tell his energy is seriously lagging. You almost have him. <br><br> At the critical moment, <<if $strength gte $magic>> you draw your weapon—you don't have a chance of touching him bare-handed— <<if $mainweapon is "sword">> and stab into the blinding whirl of light and flame. <br><br> Your sword meets its mark, because the Flameling immediately drops to the ground, clutching his side, before he goes still. He's passed out from blood loss. Short and sweet and to the point. <<elseif $mainweapon is "dagger">> and spin in your own whirl, slicing into the Flameling with the cutting edge of your <<if $legendarydagger is true>> daggers. <<else>> dagger. <</if>> Hot, acidic blood flies, nearly blinding you alongside the flame, but you're able to sidestep it in time to watch the Flameling fall to the ground, now covered in dozens of shallow cuts. He groans once, then goes still. Blood loss. Short and sweet and to the point. <<elseif $mainweapon is "gun" or $mainweapon is "bow">> and you fire, <<if $mainweapon is "gun">> the bullet exploding from your barrel like the burst of a comet. And it meets its mark, because the Flameling immediately drops to the ground, clutching his chest. He flails a little in a puddle of his own acidic blood before abruptly going still. Passed out from b blood loss. Short and sweet and to the point. <<else>> the arrow zipping into the blinding whirl of flame and light. It meets its mark, because the Flameling abruptly drops to the ground, the arrow sprouting out of hi chest like a flower. He tries to pull it free, tries to burn it, but he's already too weak from his injuries. He groans once, then goes still. <</if>> <</if>> The flames on his skin abruptly dampen, as if banked, until the Flameling only looks like a glowing figure of light. This close, he doesn't look so different from you. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "focuson6capturingii">><<if settings.music is true>><<audio ":playing" fadeout>><</if>><</link>></center> <<elseif $magic gt $strength>> you breathe a spellword, <<if $psionic gt $astral and $psionic gt $arcane>> and when he locks eyes with you, the Flameling suddenly goes blind, as if the room has been plunged into total darkness. His tornado slows as he fumbles, groping in the air and crying out; you stand out of reach and watch him flail around. Then you speak another spellword, and his limbs stiffen as if he's been paralyzed. Then another, then another, until his jaw is locked in a rictus and his flames recede, leaving him only glowing like a lamp. And then, finally—he's unconscious. He drops to the ground like a sack of potatoes, still partially spinning as he falls. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "focuson6capturingiii">><<if settings.music is true>><<audio ":playing" fadeout>><</if>><</link>></center> <<elseif $arcane gt $astral and $arcane gt $psionic>> and the Flameling suddenly sprouts chains, the links flying in a deadly whirl as he continues to spin. They erupt from the surface of his skin, snaking up his torso to choke off his breath like the coils of metallic constrictors. He struggles, slowing his attack as he tries to claw the chains away from his blocked airway, but your magic is too strong; you push against his efforts, and his flailing and wheezing begins to die down to a feeble twitch as he topples to the ground, now practically mummified in chains. Almost immediately, his fire dims until he looks like just a glowing shadow. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "focuson6capturingiv">><<if settings.music is true>><<audio ":playing" fadeout>><</if>><</link>></center> <<else>> and then you plunge your hand into the Flameling's chest. You coated your hand with protective magic as you did so, so you don't feel any of the scorching heat of the Flameling's body as you make a crater in his chest with your fist. There's no heart in the cavity where it's supposed to be, so when you yank your hand out, there's only a huge, raw hole left smoking in the Elemental's torso. Still half-spinning, he falls to the ground without a word, choking for breath as acid blood gushes out of the wound; he flails for a moment, convulsing, before going still. His flames instantly darken and shrink, until he looks only like a glowing shadow. <br><br> After a moment's thought, you kneel and send some healing magic scurrying his way, closing the Flameling's wound superficially. You can't have your captive dying on you yet. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "focuson6capturingv">><<if settings.music is true>><<audio ":playing" fadeout>><</if>><</link>></center> <</if>> <</if>> <<else>> You're fast, but even injured, he moves much faster than you would expect—and you're not in such great shape, yourself. You see him turning, find that you're too sluggish to stop or change direction in time… and then he's lifting his hand, and blistering heat is blazing on your face, and a white flash fills your vision, light and flame and molten color. <br><br> And then, suddenly… you can't see anything at all. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "focuson6capturingvifail">><<if settings.music is true>><<audio ":playing" fadeout>><</if>><</link>></center> <</if>><</nobr>>

<center><div class="dot"> <<timed 1s t8n>> ... <<next>>... <<next>>... <</timed>><span class="next">[[Next|focuson6capturingvii]]</span></div></center> <<timed 5s>><<goto "focuson6capturingvii">><</timed>>

When you come to again, suddenly, as if you'd been jerked awake from a long sleep, the nobles are running around like they're chickens with their heads cut off. Guards have practically overrun the large dining room, and the Elementals are nowhere to be seen. Lord Lockwood is standing, shouting at the top of his lungs while his face turns into an ugly shade of puce. Around you, servants and scholars are carefully collecting piles of what look like ash, sweeping the crumbled remains of <i>something</i> into little bags. Nearby, Tallys and Ayla are standing over your burnt, singed body, their own bodies tense and alert, as if they're defending you from some forthcoming attack. Briony is kneeling over you as well, <<nobr>><<if $specialization is "healer">> checking that your magic is doing its work by automatically healing your expansive burns and wounds. <<else>> sending a spark of healing magic into your expansive burns and wounds. <</if>><</nobr>> She suddenly notices that you're regaining consciousness and gasps. "<<c firstname>> is awake!" Instantly, Tallys and Ayla turn to you, looking grave and concerned. You're not sure why they look so serious; from what you can tell, the Elementals are all gone, the bodies of their fallen comrades have either dissipated or turned to harmless ash, and the nobles you'd been safeguarding seem to be all intact. You, however, are not in such great shape… "Wha…what's wrong?" you manage to croak from between chapped lips. Briony bites her lip. "You… you're burned," she whispers, sending a soothing wave of magic over your skin. "Don't move. It's not as bad as it could be—I suppose that bastard held back, somehow—and your body's repairing itself as we speak. But talking's just going to make it hurt. You'll be fine." "Then why do they look so worried?" you ask, glancing at Ayla and Tallys even as your skin crackles with pain. The tawny Elf and Wind-Mage glance at each other. "It's not looking so good, boss," Ayla says finally, her voice unusually quiet. "I say we leave," Tallys says abruptly. "We were not prepared for that kind of ambush, don't have the manpower to take on an entire army of Elementals, and our employers are looking for a neck to hang." "<i>What</i>?" You manage to sit up, feeling your new, still-healing skin split as you do; you have to bite back a howl of agony, and your eyes smart with tears. Briony places a steadying hand on your shoulder. "They can't blame us for that attack…" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"It was their guards who were supposed to alert us!"' 'doesnmt2'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"They came down from the fucking sky, how could we have known?"' 'doesnmt2'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"No one was seriously hurt, were they?"' 'noone6was'>><</link>></li> </ul>

"It doesn't matter," Ayla says impatiently. "Galbert or whatever is <i>pissed</i>. If he had any other choice, he'd throw us in the dungeons as collaborators." "Collaborators of what?" you demand. <<include "besideyou6briony">>

Ayla and Tallys look grimmer than ever. Instead of answering directly, Ayla continues, "Galbert or whatever is <i>pissed</i>, <<c firstname>>. It wasn't our fault, but we should leave as soon as we can. If he had any other choice, I think the man'd throw us in the dungeons as saboteurs." "<i>Why</i>?" <<include "besideyou6briony">>

Beside you, Briony lets out a long, slow sigh. "That fire monster that was fighting you," she says softly. "When you were passed out, Lavinet rushed in to save you, and… the fire man tried to... to kidnap her. I think that was their aim all along. He tried to take her out the window, but she fought back, and... he dropped her. From up there." She nods up at the massive ceiling, with the hole in it glowering down at you like the eye of a reproachful god. "She's badly injured. Burned all over, bones broken. We're going to do everything we can to help her, but they..." She glances over at the nobles who are all staring in your direction, their expressions distinctly hostile and full of scorn. "They blame us for the state of her. More to the point, they blame <i>you</i>." <<page_break "..." "laviinjured">>

You dive towards the nobles, and some of them scream at the sight of you lunging towards them, bloodied, battered, eyes burning with luminous magical power. <<nobr>><<if $health gt $anganthealth>> You slam shoulder-first into the watery being, who bursts into a spray of liquid upon impact. However, it quickly re-forms into a warrior possibly even larger than when you hit it, and you barely manage to dodge a swat of its enormous, trunk-like limb. While the alarmed screams of the nobles ring in your ears, you ready your $mainweapon and wonder if beings made of water can scream, too. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "focuson6protectingi">><<set $capturedangant to true>><<set $nobles += 10>><<setreputation +5>><</link>></center> <<else>> You slam shoulder-first into the watery being, feeling as if you've somehow run into a wall of concrete; your previous injuries scream in protest at the impact. The Elemental is totally unfazed by your attack, and as the nobles watch, it wraps its huge, trunk-like limbs around you, picks you up, and… <br><br> ...Flings you as hard as it can into the far wall, like a child hurling its stuffed toy. You hear—and feel—a <i>lot</i> of bones break. <br><br> The last thing you can think as you flop down to the ground is: <i>This is not good…</i> <br><br> Debris rains down on your broken body in a shower of plaster and dust, and you black out. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "dot6dot6dot">><<set $lavinetkidnapped to true>><<set $nobles -= 15>><<setreputation -10>><<sethealth -50>><<if settings.music is true>><<audio ":playing" fadeout>><</if>><</link>></center> <</if>><</nobr>>

You spend a few seconds—not even a minute—savagely attacking the water Elemental, positioning yourself between it and the frightened nobles as you send wave after wave of magic at it, throwing in a whirlwind of attacks from your weapon, as well. The elephantine creature staggers, stunned and confused by your vicious assault. Once, it tries to turn away from you, and you think it might flee. But then it surges at a noble a little to the left of you, out of easy reach, and your brain slows time down and you think—<i>hostage—targeting the weak spot—forcing me to defend!…</i> Before you can even think any further, you're leaping in the way, <<nobr>><<if $mainweapon is "sword" and $strength gte 50>> your sword arcing down to lop the creature's watery limb off at the elbow. Its arm drops to the ground with a harmless splash, and the monster screams with anger and pain. <br><br> You gesture sharply for the noble it targeted to back up, and she gabbles a thanks as she shrinks back into the huddle of aristocrats. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "focuson6protectingii">><<set $nobles += 10>><<setreputation +3>><</link>></center> <<elseif $mainweapon is "dagger" and $strength gte 50>> spinning in an incredible whirlwind attack with your daggers clutched in your hands. You damn near tear the creature's watery limb off at the elbow, the arm dropping to the ground with a harmless splash, and the monster screams with anger and pain. <br><br> You gesture sharply for the noble it targeted to back up, and she gabbles a thank you as she shrinks back into the huddle of aristocrats. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "focuson6protectingii">><<set $nobles += 10>><<setreputation +3>><</link>></center> <<elseif $mainweapon is "gun" and $strength gte 50>> your gun cocked at your hip as you fire at close range. <<if $legendarygun is true>> The Thunderer explodes like a small sun in your hand, the burst of the huge round echoing like its namesake. <</if>> <br><br> The creature's watery limb bursts into a spray of liquid, then goes flying, lopped off at the elbow and dropping to the ground with a harmless splash. The monster screams with anger and pain. <br><br> You gesture sharply for the noble it targeted to back up, and she gabbles a thank you as she shrinks back into the huddle of aristocrats. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "focuson6protectingii">><<set $nobles += 10>><<setreputation +3>><</link>></center> <<elseif $mainweapon is "bow" and $strength gte 50>> your bow raised as you let loose a powerful arrow at point-blank range. <<if $legendarybow is true>> The Warpwood Striker screams as it looses its charge, the arrow zipping unnaturally up the water creature's arm. <</if>> The monster's limb bursts into a spray of cool, frothing liquid, then drops to the ground with a harmless splash. The Elemental roars with anger and anguish. <br><br> You gesture sharply for the noble it targeted to back up, and she gabbles a thank you as she shrinks back into the huddle of aristocrats. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "focuson6protectingii">><<set $nobles += 10>><<setreputation +3>><</link>></center> <<elseif $astral gte 50 and $strength gte 50>> You summon pure energy into your hand, then release it at the Elemental in a vorpal slice. There's a cutting sound in the air, like a knife going through a lemon—and then the creature's watery limb is lopped off at the elbow, going flying. The Elemental roars with anger and pain. <br><br> You gesture sharply for the noble it targeted to back up, and she gabbles a thank you as she shrinks back into the huddle of aristocrats. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "focuson6protectingii">><<set $nobles += 10>><<setreputation +3>><</link>></center> <<else>> pushing the noble out of the Elemental's path as its watery arm flies towards her. Instead, it catches you in the stomach, and with all the tremendous force of a flash flood, you're knocked backward and pummeled into the wall behind you, winded and gasping for breath. The rush of water then nearly drowns you—you choke, trying to find some way out of the frothing, violent stream of water—before the Elemental draws back its arm for another strike. You drag yourself to your feet, trying to wipe the water out of your eyes just as it attacks you again. At least you gave the nobles time to get out of the way first. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "focuson6protectingii">><<setreputation -3>><<sethealth -10>><<set $nobles += 2>><</link>></center> <</if>><</nobr>>

After a moment, more Elementals come to their friend's aid, but you're now used to fighting them, blasting them with the appropriate spells and shouting for the nobles to flee to the farthest corner of the room as you handle the situation. For the most part, they obey your every command like lambs, though some try to help you, pricking the Elementals in the backs with their decorative daggers and even chair legs while your enemies are preoccupied with fighting you. It doesn't do much in comparison to your seasoned combat experience—but it's the thought that counts. You lose track of Lavinet and the others in the chaos, but you manage to safely defend the aristocrats from harm, a blur of movement, magic, and <<nobr>><<if $mainweapon is "sword" or $mainweapon is "dagger">> blade. <<elseif $mainweapon is "bow">> arrows. <<else>> bullets. <</if>><</nobr>> Soon enough, the water creature is finally dead, you've killed everyone else who came after you, and there are only three Elementals left in the room. Someone on the far end of the chamber finally gets the doors unjammed, and the nobles rush past you, scattering and fleeing while they still can. One of the last Elementals lunges after them, but you're there to intercept it. The last thing the nobles see is you standing there, blazing with light, defending their exit as an enormous craggy creature looking very much like a demon goliath stands over you, menacing you. The last thing <i>you</i> see before they escape is the look on the nobles' faces: fear, gratitude, awe, surprise. They look at you like you're a hero. And then they're gone. You crack your knuckles as you turn to face the stone-faced creature, who growls at you. Time to put an end to this, once and for all. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "focuson6protectingiii">><</link>></center>

<<if settings.music is true>><<audio ":playing" fadeoverto 10 0>><</if>>Moments later, you hear a triumphant shout, and you glance over even as you dash the last warrior against the wall like a handful of gravel. Lavinet is standing over the wounded Flameling you'd fought earlier, the one who charged you first: her rapier is just piercing his throat, allowing a thin line of acid blood to dribble down his neck. The Flameling is kneeling, exhausted, resigned… and he's holding his arms up in the universal sign of surrender. She's taken the last remaining Elemental hostage, and with that, the brief battle is finally over. <<include "capturedanganthainn">>

<center><div class="dot"> <<timed 1s t8n>> ... <<next>>... <<next>>... <</timed>><span class="next">[[Next|whenyou6cometoagain]]</span></div></center> <<timed 5s>><<goto "whenyou6cometoagain">><</timed>>

When you come to again, the nobles are running around like they're chickens with their heads cut off; the Elementals are gone, and guards have practically overrun the large room. Lord Lockwood is standing in the center of the chaos, shouting at the top of his lungs while his face turns into an ugly shade of puce. Nearby, Tallys and Ayla are standing over your body, tense and alert, as if to defend you from some forthcoming attack. Briony is kneeling over you as well, <<nobr>><<if $specialization is "healer">> checking that your magic is doing its work by automatically healing your wounds. <<else>> sending a spark of healing magic into your broken bones. <</if>><</nobr>> She suddenly notices that you're regaining consciousness and gasps. "<<c firstname>> is awake!" Instantly, Tallys and Ayla turn to you, looking grave and concerned. You're not sure why they look so serious; from what you can tell, the Elementals have fled, and the nobles you'd been safeguarding are miraculously intact. No grave injuries, no deaths. And your own shattered bones are only temporary. "Wha…what's wrong?" you manage to croak from between chapped lips. Tallys and Ayla glance at each other. "It's not looking so good, boss," the Wind-Mage says after a moment, her voice unusually quiet. "I say we leave," Tallys says abruptly. "We were not prepared for that kind of ambush, don't have the manpower to take on an entire army of Elementals, and our employers are looking for a neck to hang." "<i>What</i>?" You manage to sit up, bones creaking as you do; newly-healed joints pop into place, sending fresh pain singing to the center of your forehead. "They can't blame us for that attack…" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"It was their guards who were supposed to alert us!"' 'doesnmt'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"They came down from the fucking sky, how could we have known?"' 'doesnmt'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"No one was seriously hurt, were they?"' 'nobut6was'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Beside you, Briony lets out a long, slow sigh. "That fire monster that was fighting you before," she says softly. "When you were passed out, Lavinet got distracted, rushed in to try and help you, and… the fire man tried to... to kidnap her. I think that was their aim all along. He tried to take her out the window, but she fought back, and... he dropped her. From up there." She nods up at the massive ceiling, with the hole in it glowering down at you like the eye of a reproachful god. "She's badly injured. Burned all over, bones broken from the fall. We're going to do everything we can to help her, but they..." She glances over at Galbert and his advisors, who are all staring in your direction, their expressions distinctly hostile and full of scorn. "They blame us for the state of her. Or, more to the point, they blame <i>you</i>." <<page_break "..." "laviinjured">>

"Good job," Tallys says, a little out of breath when she appears next to you in the following moments. Her hair is mussed and her collar is askew, but otherwise, she seems fine. She kneels alongside the Flameling and moves to check his pulse—it seems he's only warm when not actively on fire, because she lifts his wrist without flinching. After a moment, she declares: "He's alive. But we need to get him into a cell, fast. If he wakes up again, he might try to escape, and I don't know if I have the energy to fight like that again. Or he might call his friends back—they've all fled, but I think they expected him to be right behind them." She gestures, and a few nervous guards step forward to haul the Elemental away, though they cringe instead of touching him until Tallys snaps at them to get a move on. When they're gone, the Elf rises to her feet and touches your shoulder. "Good work, <<c firstname>>. Thanks to you, we have our first Elemental captive." Her mouth is a grim line in her face, and her eyes are huge and forest-green. "Now let's see if he'll talk." <<include "capturedanganthainn">>

"Ye gods," Briony breathes when she finally jogs up to you, eyes wide as she takes in the Elemental's prone form. "Psionic magic?" You nod. "It's always easy to enchant half-dead targets. I just had to get close enough for him to look into my eyes." She nods back, chewing her lip as she examines the enemy's body, still covered in pitted wounds. "Nice job. Let's get him into a cell before he wakes up and wreaks more havoc again. Then we'll see if he'll talk." <<include "capturedanganthainn">>

"Ye gods," Briony breathes when she finally jogs up to you, eyes wide as she takes in the Elemental's prone form. "Arcane magic?" You nod. "Shifted his skin into metal chains. Gruesome, but effective." She shakes her head. "I'll keep that trick in mind for the next time I need to be a firefighter." She glances at the inert Flameling again, chewing her lip. "Nice work. Now let's get him into a cell. I want to see if the bastard can talk." <<include "capturedanganthainn">>

"Ye gods," Briony breathes when she finally jogs up to you, eyes wide as she takes in the Elemental's prone form. "You healed him? And that hole in his chest…" You nod. "I was finally close enough to make that move, and he was so weak already that his guard was down. He couldn't block me. It was a lucky strike." She shakes her head, half-admiring. "Very lucky. If you'd been wrong and he had organs after all, you would have killed him before you could heal him, or worse…" She glances at the Flameling again, chewing her lip. "Still, nice work. We needed one of these bastards alive. Let's lock him up somewhere and see if he'll talk." <<include "capturedanganthainn">>

<<nobr>><<if $specialization is "healer" and $astral gte 60>><<set $health to 90>><<else>><<set $health to 70>><</if>> What follows is a grueling series of hours as you work both on healing yourself, then tending to Lavinet. <<if $specialization is "healer">> Healing your own injuries is a difficult task enough, drained as you are from the previous battle, <<else>> Briony is able to help you heal your own injuries, serving as a magical battery and directing force to help shore up the gaps in your knowledge where you need it, but you are both heavily drained from the previous battle, <</if>> and convincing Lord Galbert to let you see his daughter is another beast entirely. It takes nearly an hour of fierce argumentation—and ultimately dire threats about his negligence causing Lavinet more suffering—before the furious nobleman finally consents to let you into the infirmary where she's being kept, fussed and tended over by frantic-looking physickers whose specialties lie in childbirth and fevers. At one point you think the confrontation between you might come to blows: Ayla, by the end of it, nearly leaps upon the nobleman after hearing the choice words he has for you and your team. An odd look shines in Galbert's eyes as you all but bully your way into the sickbay: it's some deadly combination of hatred and fear. Whatever happens next, you're fairly sure that you've lost Lavinet's father's goodwill forever. <</nobr>> You're not even sure if you completely blame him. From what you're told, the sight of Lavinet's burning body plummeting several floors down to the ground was enough to traumatize all of the nobles who witnessed the terrible accident. For her father, the effect must be magnified tenfold. Still, he eventually lets you in, and <<nobr>><<if $specialization is "healer">> you're able to use your magic to tend to Lavinet's injuries. It's grueling work, knitting together shattered bone and smoothing away shallow burns to give way to new, creamy skin—you note with interest that the nature of the injuries suggest the Flameling didn't intend to grievously injure her, most likely because he needed her alive as a captive—but gradually, Lavinet's breathing eases, and she stirs, her eyelashes fluttering as she comes fitfully towards wakefulness. <<elseif $magic gte 70 and $astral gte 65 and $intelligence gte 55>> between you and Briony, with her again serving as a power source to draw from while you direct the operation, plus Tallys's healing knowledge, herbs, salves, and tinctures, you're able to bring Lavinet back to a condition resembling good health. You cobble together shattered bone, soothe and smooth away shallow burns... And gradually, her breathing eases, and she stirs, her eyelashes fluttering as she comes fitfully towards wakefulness. <<else>> you watch as Briony and Tallys set to work, Briony doing her best to heal the noblewoman with magic—"but I'm not a <i>Healer</i>," she insists to you in private distress, "I can do little things, but it takes too much finesse, I'm too <i>clumsy</i> for it!"—and Tallys assisting with her knowledge of healing, herbs, salves, tinctures, and medicine. Between the two of them (while you and Ayla cool your heels), they're able to coax Lavinet back to a condition resembling intactness, though from Lavinet's grimaces, cries of pain, and thrashing, it's not an easy process for any one of them. Gradually, however, her breathing eases, and she stirs, her eyelashes fluttering as she comes fitfully towards wakefulness. <</if>><</nobr>> You all slowly breathe a sigh of relief as she opens her eyes and murmurs, "Was anybody killed?" No, you confirm to her, no one else was killed or even seriously injured following the fight with the Elementals. It seems they intended for the conflict to be relatively bloodless, which explains their battle strategy: they kept most of you separated and pressed up against the sides of the room presumably to kidnap her and flee, though you put up such an unexpected resistance that they were unable to nab her until she was distracted in trying to help you. Lavinet nods slowly, looking immensely weary, but she makes a visible attempt to rally herself before she looks at you and says hoarsely: "You mustn't blame yourself, <<c firstname>>. This is the nature of warfare. Injuries happen." She gives a faint wave of her hand, an attempt at bravado. "And as you can see, I'm perfectly fine now." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I don't blame myself at all. I did what I thought was best."</div>' 'autogenerated_686043'>><<setcompassionate -3>><<setloyal -5>><<setlavinet -5>><<setcharisma -3>><<settallys +1>><<setcourage +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Thank you for trying to help me. I'm sorry that it resulted in you getting hurt."</div>' 'autogenerated_686044'>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setbriony +1>><<setayla +1>><<setlavinet +3>><<setloyal +1>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I feel awful, Lavinet. I'm so sorry. For everything."</div>' 'autogenerated_686045'>><<setcompassionate +3>><<setlavinet +1>><<setbriony +1>><<settallys -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I admire your strength and courage, Lavinet. You're far more resilient than any noblewoman has the right to be, under the circumstances." </div>' 'autogenerated_686046'>><<setcharisma +3>><<setlavinet +3>><<settallys -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm just glad you're all right now."</div>' 'autogenerated_686047'>><<setloyal +2>><<setayla +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You shouldn't have interfered in the first place. A civilian has no business getting involved in a fight like that."</div>' 'autogenerated_686048'>><<setbriony -3>><<setlavinet -10>><<settallys +2>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setloyal +2>><<setayla -1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Lavinet stiffens slightly, and Briony turns shocked eyes towards you. But after a moment, Lavinet's eyelids merely fall to heavy, resigned half-mast as she murmurs, "Well, then. Good for you." <<include 'lavinetreconvenehealing'>>

Lavinet smiles with a weary shake of her head. "As I said, think nothing of it. We're comrades-in-arms now, after all. It isn't in my nature to simply stand by, just as it's not in yours." <<include 'lavinetreconvenehealing'>>

<<if $gender is "male">><<set $lavinetromanceflag += 1>><</if>>Lavinet smiles tiredly, her eyes glinting with humor. "I think you'll find I'm just not <i>any</i> noblewoman, darling," she murmurs. "But thank you. I'm not the type to go to pieces if I can help it." <<include 'lavinetreconvenehealing'>>

Lavinet smiles and glances around at your teammates. "That's thanks to you, too," she murmurs. "I was worried I'd never walk again. I see now why magic is so coveted... and so feared." She holds up her hand and flexes it wonderingly. "And to think we could live in a world where it could be like this <i>all</i> the time. What a pity." <<include 'lavinetreconvenehealing'>>

<<if $lavinetromanceflag gte 1>><<set $lavinetromanceflag to 0>><</if>>Lavinet stiffens slightly, while Briony turns shocked eyes towards you; even Ayla frowns, watching you as she leans against the wall with her arms folded. Only Tallys seems to give no reaction to what you just said. After a moment, Lavinet meets your gaze evenly and says, "I am no mere civilian, my dear. And I think you would do well to remember that." You raise a brow, glancing at her bedridden state. "...Whatever you say, Lady Naveen." Lavinet's fist tightens slightly on her bedspread, but she turns her head away and seems to have nothing more to say to you. <<include 'lavinetreconvenehealing'>>

<<page_break "Next" "lavinetreconvenehealing2">>

You withdraw to allow Lavinet to recover, and for her father, friends, and other servants to visit her room and exclaim over her remarkable recovery—but it's not much later before she emerges from the sickbay herself, looking a tad shaky but as regal as ever as she enters the private study that you've withdrawn to. She draws herself up and waves you away as Briony moves to assist her; she looks wan and resigned as she says, "Have you heard? The town guard captured the creature that tried to kidnap me." Briony gasps, and you raise your brows as you, Tallys, and Ayla exchange glances. "No, we weren't told." Lavinet shakes her head wearily. "It seems the... Elemental... was overcome by his injuries and collapsed a little outside of our walls, near the refugee camp. The townsfolk raised the alarm, and the guard secured him and ensured he remained unconscious." A brief pause allows you to try and imagine exactly how they managed that. They probably beat him senseless. "He's safely locked away in our dungeons now." "Well, we've got to question him, then," Ayla says, her foot vibrating with restless impatience. "We've got to find out why they're attacking Lockwood, why they tried to take you away—" Lavinet nods grimly. "I agree. And time is of the essence. My father won't hear of you—or me—going down there to interrogate the prisoner ourselves, and he's intent on having you thrown out of the estate as soon as he can manage it. I'm holding him off for now, but we need to slip down there and extract the information while we can before he decides to impose his will more forcefully. I've asked Clara to pretend I've gone to wash up and sleep in my own rooms for now." She turns smartly to you. "So? Before we go down there, what do we need to know?" As a group, you look to Tallys. The Elves were always said to have a closer tie to Elementals than most other races, both of them being considered "Elder Races" in comparison to the rest of the rest of the world. But she only shrugs. "My clan never had much interaction with the Elementals, so I never read much about them in our personal annals and archives. I only know that they're people, same as us: their forms may look… unusual, or even unthinking, but that boulder has just as much inner life as Trouble, or that gust of wind can speak just as well as Shery. They are just as 'human,' at least in thought and speech, as any Hunter, Ket, Mage, or Elf." <<include "elementals">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>A few hours later...</span></div></div>' "capturedanganthainni">><<if settings.music is true>><<audio ":playing" fadeout>><</if>><</link>></center>

You spend the aftermath of the sudden (and strangely bloodless) skirmish evaluating your current state of affairs. No one was seriously hurt during the attack. <<nobr>><<if $elementalguard is true>> <i>Most</i> guards never saw the Elementals coming, but thanks to your warning earlier in the evening, a few knew what to look out for and injured some of the enemy before they made it over the city wall. However, because the Elementals were traveling overhead on the wind, they broke through the ceiling far faster than said guards could rush up the hill to the estate. <br><br> Still, it was their preparedness that weakened the Elementals enough for you to fend them off so successfully. <<else>> Guards never saw the enemy coming: how could they have seen monsters—some of them as near-invisible as the wind itself—flying far overhead on the night air? And so they never had time to warn anybody before the Elementals busted through the ceiling. It's a small miracle, at least, that the entire room wasn't slaughtered in the attack. <</if>><</nobr>> Some of the nobles did help during the fight, Auberon and Pendric chief among them before being knocked out. Many didn't involve themselves as physically, or were unable to, and just as many looked traumatized when they were finally ushered back to their rooms. But at least they're all still alive. None of them came out of the affair with anything worse than a few cuts or bruises, and you heard some servant grudgingly admit that that's all thanks to you and your team. If you hadn't been there tonight, things could have—would have—taken a turn for the worse. A few estate guards also made it into the room to time to help, but the doors leading into the hallway had been blocked and guarded by one of the boulder creatures for the majority of the battle. "Which means they can strategize," Ayla muses when you all convene in Lavinet's private study later. "Though I guess we already knew that, what with the way they flew in from above." "But why?" Lavinet demands, pacing restlessly over the plush carpet. You didn't get a good look at what she was doing during the fight, but you're told she acted quickly and valiantly in the face of danger, killing several Elementals with only her rapier. Apparently her father is furious that she didn't flee the room when he did—a lone servant hauled him out before the door was closed and blocked—and he is currently in council with his own advisors about what should be done about the ambush, if anything. <<nobr>><<if $nobles lt 65 or $elementalsknow is false>> Rumor has it that he might even blame you and your team for the lack of preparedness for the attack. You're not totally sure he's all that off-base, either. How could two dozen of your enemy break in through the roof and nearly succeed in killing you all, while you could do nothing but try and react? <br><br> "The only reason people didn't die was because they—the Elementals—wanted it that way," Briony concludes in a low voice. "They deliberately attacked without the true intent to kill. They kept us separated from each other, but only as a stalling tactic. We can be grateful for that, at least." <br><br> Somehow, that doesn't make you feel any better. <br><br> Lavinet says that she'll protect you from her father's retribution—at least until you can figure this mess out—so you just hope you'll have time to redeem yourself before you're hauled off in the same chains the captured Flameling is now in. <<else>> Rumor has it that he's grateful for the actions of you and your team, though; Lavinet reiterates that if it weren't for you, many lives might have been lost tonight, and the lord is planning on rewarding you for your bravery and quick thinking. And the nobles are grateful to you, as well, many sending messengers and indications that they "have full confidence that you'll solve this case" before anyone else is hurt. It's finally a start, at least. <</if>><</nobr>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "capturedanganthainnii">><</link>></center>

"Why plan this attack in the first place? Why go after us, here, now?" Lavinet asks again. When you look at her, the auburn-haired aristocrat shakes her head, folding her arms. You're all standing in the dark: somehow, you couldn't bear to light a fire in the hearth, and Ayla even balks when someone offers her a bowl of hot water to wash up. "The enemy didn't kill anybody. They didn't steal anything. They only wrecked our skylight, trapped us in a room together, and then left. Why? What did they separate us out for, if not to kill us? And why are they attacking our farmlands, driving our people into the city, if their true goal was the nobility?" "Maybe the attack tonight was a message?" Briony offers. "Driving some point home? 'I could kill you, but I won't'?" "Or maybe they weren't expecting us to put up such a fight," Tallys says flatly. "They might have assumed you were all helpless targets, just like the townsfolk… Maybe they weren't expecting Shepherds to be here. They might have aimed to kill you, or your father, or even kidnap you, but weren't able to see their plans through because of us." "But <i>why</i>?" Lavinet demands again. "What did we ever do to <i>them</i>? I didn't even know Elementals still existed!" "Well, as you can see, they do," Tallys says acidly. Then she glances away, her mouth tight. "Though it's true—I also thought they'd disappeared, at least eight hundred years ago." "Can you tell us anything more about them?" you ask. The Elves were always said to have a closer tie to Elementals than most other races, both of them being considered "Elder Races" in comparison to the rest of the rest of the world. She shrugs. "My clan never had much interaction with them, so I never read much about them in our personal annals and archives. I only know that they're people, same as us: their forms may look… unusual, or even unthinking, but that boulder has just as much inner life as Trouble, or that gust of wind can speak just as well as Shery. They are just as 'human,' at least in thought and speech, as any Hunter, Ket, Mage, or Elf." <<include "elementals">>

<ul class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("isthere6evidence")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Is there evidence that they\'ve ever attacked other races before?"</div>' 'isthere6evidence'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("howmany6kinds")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"How many kinds of Elementals are there?"</div>' 'howmany6kinds'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("whatkind6ofsocieties")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"What kind of societies do they live in?"</div>' 'whatkind6ofsocieties'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("howmany6of")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"How many Elementals are there, total?"</div>' 'howmany6of'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("whywould6they")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Why would they come back now?"</div>' 'whywould6they'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("dothey6have")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Do they have any weaknesses that we know of?"</div>' 'dothey6have'>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link 'You have nothing more to ask.' 'stand6silence'>><</link>></li> </ul>

There's a pause. "I think there were… conflicts, here and there," Tallys says after a moment, her usually-cool voice betraying a tone of unease. "But mostly only when they were provoked, their territory encroached upon or sacred covenants violated. There are tales about consecrated trees in their forests, for example. Local villages nearby would swear an oath to never touch those trees, but the generations went on, and time forgot. When the covenant was broken—when someone cut a tree—the Hill Folk would declare war." Then she shakes her head. "But such incidents were always few and far between. Most of their conflicts were between each other: the Flamelings sometimes warred with the Sylphs, et cetera." You turn to Lavinet. "Could something like this have happened? Could a citizen of Lockwood have violated some law, upset the Elementals?" She shrugs unhappily. "I'm sure I don't know, darling. As I said, I was under the impression the Elementals had all gone away. If anyone's done anything <i>untoward</i> toward them, I'm sure I would have heard of it by now. Those people outside our gates are desperate, hungry, and homesick. If there was an easy answer to this problem, someone would have come forward with it by now." "Unless they didn't know," Ayla points out. "To them, it would have been as simple as cutting a tree, dumping their waste in a river. No reason to think it would have been related to these attacks." Lavinet frowns, looking pensive. "I suppose we'll see." <<include "elementals">>

Tallys ticks them off on her fingers. "There are the Sylphs, the people of air—those are the near-invisible warriors we saw. Their lesser cousins are called the Sprites: they're smaller, often ball-shaped, very mischievous, typically used to spy on others. Then there are the Undine, the people of water; they, too, have different types, namely the River Undine and the Sea Undine. The River Undine look like people made out of water, able to shape themselves and re-form as they like. The Sea Undine are more like fish people—humans with gills and fins instead of legs. They can't leave the ocean, so the water-based ones who attacked tonight were all River Undine. Then there are the Flamelings, the people of fire that we saw. They're fearsome warriors, famously proud and hot-headed. They have cousins, too, the Volta, the people of lightning—but you never see them outside of fierce storms. And then there are the Hill Folk, the people of earth. Some come in the form of rocks and boulders, and it was said they were the most prolific Elementals. You could walk by several on a hike in the hills and never know it. The other Hill Folk look like trees, or at least, people-shaped trees. Supposedly they are ruled by two monarchs, the Holly King and the Oak King, each ruler trading off for summer and winter. Elves used to leave offerings for the respective king whenever we thought we were passing through his domain." "So we're dealing with five out of the eight kinds of known Elementals," Ayla says impatiently. "The Sylphs, the River Undine, the Flamelings, and the tree Hill Folk and rock Hill Folk." Tallys nods. "That seems to be the case." "The Sprites could be in there, too," you point out. "The smaller wind ones used as spies? We may just not have seen them yet." Ayla glances at the darkened windows and shudders. "Six out of eight, then," she assents. You turn back to Tallys. <<include "elementals">>

Tallys frowns, thinking on it. "I'm not sure," she admits after a moment. "I only know that they all rarely interact with one another—or, at least, that was the case before. They're all of different elements, of course; it wouldn't be common for a Flameling and an Undine, people of fire and water, to have much to say to each other. But I also know they worship, or worshipped, the old gods, and they're all bound together by some kind of… treaty, or covenant. It was said they would gather together in special locations once every few years—it was called the Landsmeet, a kind of summit. I don't know exactly went on there, but I know it was one of the only times the Elementals all gathered together under one banner. I think they would discuss matters of governance amongst themselves." "How strange," Lavinet murmurs. "Like holding court, or having the social season at Sacor. It sounds like their civilization is quite advanced." Tallys's brow twitches. "Yes. That seems to be the case." <<include "elementals">>

Tallys frowns. "Now? I have no idea. I'd heard that, before they disappeared, they had dwindled down to less than a thousand—at least the common ones you could see roaming around the Continent. But we have no way of knowing if that number has grown or shrunk since then. Again, it's been nearly a millennia since anyone's seen them." <<include "elementals">>

Tallys sighs. "I have no idea. Perhaps they were drawn by something?" But she seems to have no more inkling than you do. <<include "elementals">>

Tallys shrugs. "It was not something the Elven scholars discussed in great detail. I would assume using the opposite element against them would be effective, at least in the case of fire and water. But…" "But?" Briony, Ayla, and Lavinet all turn to stare at her. Tallys sighs and shifts on her feet. "I have heard… that Elementals never truly die. They go back to the primal element from which they came, and then, somehow… they're born again." Briony gives an indignant squeak. "What are you talking about? You're saying they're <i>reincarnated</i>?" Tallys nods seriously. "That's what I've heard. But I think there's some sort of special process, perhaps a ceremony, that they must perform in order to facilitate someone's… rebirth. But I have no idea what that entails or if they still have access to it." "So what you're saying is, some of things we killed today might come back to bite us in the future?" Ayla cocks out her hip, glowering at the idea. Tallys shrugs. "I suppose so. And if any of that is true, trying to annihilate them outright might not be the best solution." <<include "elementals">>

You stand in silence for a bit, contemplating the issues that lie before you, before Lavinet finally shakes herself out of her reverie. "In any case," she says, her face resigned, "standing around and guessing won't give us the answers to these problems. We'll need to ask the Elemental directly." She's referring, of course, to the injured Flameling that you all helped to capture. Briony bites her lip. "So we're doing this? We're going to try and interrogate a man made out of fire?" Lavinet nods. "Yes. And I want <<c firstname>> to lead the interrogation." Ayla cracks her knuckles. "We'll be there to make sure things don't go sideways, then. <<c firstname>>, you do whatever you think will get some answers out of the <i>kaq</i>, all right?" You nod, feeling the weight of the responsibility descend on you like a tightness settling over your heart. If you can't get the Flameling prisoner to talk, whatever happens next may fall on you. But you can't hesitate now. You were assigned to this case, and you're going to see it through. Lavinet moves to the door. "Let's go, then. The longer we wait, the further our chances of resolving this peacefully slip away." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "stand6silencei">><</link>></center>

You stop to scrounge some light snacks the servants are passing out—you never got to eat dinner, after all. Then you down some strangely-reinvigorating juice before moving as a group down to the dungeons, which you're told were originally built to hold criminals acting against the Naveen family. You can tell the whole place was refurbished recently: the mortar on the walls looks new, and state-of-the-art lamps have been installed along the narrow corridors. The Naveens have so much money that they can afford to renovate areas of their estate that haven't been used in at least one hundred years. <<nobr>><<if $lavinetkidnapped is false>>You installed the Flameling in the cell farthest away from the open air, sunlight, and sources of water as you could possibly go. You shackled him into an iron chair with bolts and a collar already installed into it—an ancient torture device left over from Lockwood's more medieval days. Then, you, Ayla, and Briony drew a circle in chalk around the chair, building three Shields or wards into the circle. Between the three of you, the Flameling has no chance of leaving the circle without your permission, and even if one of you somehow gets hurt and loses hold of the spell, the other two still have an ironclad defense set up. As long as he's in the circle, the Flameling won't be able to use his fire, either. <br><br> "You're lucky we're here," Ayla told Lavinet when you were setting the spells up. "I don't even wanna think about what would have happened, even if you'd managed to catch him without us. Without magic to hold him in, your asses'd be cooked." <br><br> Lavinet had smiled tightly, looking like a cat as she stared down at the unconscious, slumped form of the Flameling. "I'm aware." <<else>> The guard installed the Flameling in the cell farthest away from the open air, sunlight, and sources of water as they could possibly go. They shackled him into an iron chair with bolts and a collar already installed into it—an ancient torture device left over from Lockwood's more medieval days. When you draw aside the metal cover concealing the eye-high slit in the door of the cell, you see that the Flameling is awake, sitting up, but deathly quiet as he stares at the wall across from him. The fires surrounding his body are sharply banked; he seems bent, broken, and too tired to try to use them for an escape... <br><br> Unless, of course, he's merely faking. <</if>><</nobr>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "stand6silenceii">><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<if $lavinetkidnapped is false>>Now, you draw aside the metal cover concealing the eye-high slit in the door of the cell. You even sealed up the cracks underneath the door to ensure an Air Elemental couldn't somehow slip through and free your prisoner. The Flameling is awake, sitting up, but deathly quiet as he stares at the wall across from him. The magic circle remains strong and unbroken, and even from your spot by the door, you can feel its power thrumming through the air, like the beating of a hummingbird's wings. <br><br><</if>><</nobr>> Briony cocks her head at you, a tendril of her mind brushing against yours. You all agreed beforehand to psychically link yourselves to communicate during the interrogation: talking about what to do next in front of your prisoner would undermine your power over him. <i>How are we going to play this?</i> Lavinet's eyes watch you expectantly, and Ayla tilts her head expressively, and you know they're all really posing the same question in different ways. <i>How far are we willing to go to get answers?</i> <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '<i>I\'m willing to resort to torture if that will save the lives of the citizens of Lockwood. Even Elementals care about their fingers and nails.</i>' 'stand6silenceiii'>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setcunning +3>><<setlavinet +3>><<if $gender is "male">><<set $lavinetromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link '<i>We can rough him up if it comes to that, but I won\'t stand for anything inhumane.</i>' 'stand6silenceiii'>><<setbriony +1>><<setayla +1>><<setloyal +1>><<setcourage +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '<i>I won\'t hurt him, but I\'m prepared to play mind games if it will get me answers.</i>' 'stand6silenceiii'>><<setcunning +3>><<setintelligence +1>><<settallys +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '<i>Don\'t hurt him. He is our prisoner, and under the Charter of Light, he\'s afforded certain rights and dignities.</i>' 'stand6silenceiii'>><<setbriony +1>><<settallys +1>><<if $lavinetkidnapped is true>><<setlavinet -10>><<else>><<setlavinet -5>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link '<i>We\'ll just see what happens.</i>' 'stand6silenceiii'>><<setcourage -3>><<setcharisma -3>><<setcunning +1>><<setbriony -3>><<setlavinet -3>><<setayla -3>><<settallys -3>><</link>></li> </ul>

They all nod. <i>Let's do this.</i> You turn and open the door of the cell. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "stand6silenceiv">><</link>></center>

The Flameling looks up at you with no expression in his strange, burning orange eyes. Those eyes are blank, unnerving—they lack pupils and simply look like hot coals in his face. The rest of him, too, is glowing, flickering occasionally with dampened fire—more like a man cloaked in faint candlelight rather than a being of living flame himself. If you ignore that and squint, you can better see his silhouette through the glow of his skin: the shadow of a broad-shouldered, muscular warrior with a square jaw and yellowish licks of flame that serve as hair on the top of his head. His chin and shoulders have a sullen slant to them. <<nobr>><<if $lavinetkidnapped is false>><br><br>You suppose the dull warmth emitting from his skin and the lack of lively, cheerful flames licking along his limbs indicate that he's still weak from his injuries. If you're lucky, he'll stay that way before he starts to test your wards. They're nigh unbreakable, but it would still require effort to hold them against him, and you're already feeling taxed at the moment. <</if>><</nobr>> The man made of fire stares first for a long, good while at Lavinet, who sits herself primly on the chair across from him; her face remains imperious and cool as she stares back. Then his fiery eyes turn to you… as if he knows you're the one in charge of this whole operation. You stare at him. Now is the time to… <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '...gain his trust by acting kind. "How are your injuries? Do you need a Healer? Can you eat?"' 'gainhis6trust'>><<if $compassionate gte 70>><<set $angant += 10>><<setcompassionate +3>><</if>><</link>></li> <<if ($specialization is "healer" and $astral gte 50) or ($astral gte 65 and $magic gte 60 and $intelligence gte 55)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">...show your humanity by offering to heal his injuries yourself.</div>' 'showyour6humanity'>><<set $angant += 25>><<setcompassionate +5>><<setlavinet -3>><<settallys +1>><<setbriony +1>><<setcourage +1>><<setintelligence +2>><<setastral +3>><<setmagic +3>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">...show your humanity by offering to Heal his injuries yourself.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link '...catch him off-guard by saying something cruel. "We have one of your comrades in another room. If you don\'t start talking, I\'ll give the signal for them to start cutting off whatever it is that hurts the most."' 'catchhim6off'>><<if $compassionate lte 40 and $cunning gte 50>><<setcunning +3>><</if>><<setcompassionate -3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '...threaten him directly. "I\'ll give you one warning. Answer our questions, and you won\'t be harmed. Jerk us around, and I\'ll kill you. Slowly and painfully."' 'threatenhim6directly'>><<setcompassionate -5>><</link>></li> <li><<link '...work subtle Enchanting magic to make him like you more. It won\'t make him spill his secrets, but it will make him feel like you\'re an ally without even realizing it.' 'worksubtle6enchanting'>><</link>></li> </ul>

<<nobr>><<if $compassionate gte 70>> The Flameling doesn't answer, only offering you stubborn silence… but you think his shoulders relax, almost imperceptibly. He doesn't say a word. <<else>> You try to make your voice sound soft, concerned, and sincere, but the Flameling isn't buying it. He simply crosses his arms and sinks down into his chair, glowering at you. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "stand6silencev">>

You can feel Lavinet's flare of disapproval along the psychic connection you've set up between all of you, but her face gives away nothing as she watches you approach your prisoner. He arches a brow, as much as he can without actual eyebrows. "I remember your kind are skilled in the healing arts," he says finally, carefully. His voice sounds the burning of reeds and kindling, crackly and gravelly and harsh. "But can you heal a being you've not seen walk this earth for hundreds of years?" Well, that's the thing—you generally need an idea of someone's anatomy and physiology to heal them. Otherwise you might end up mixing around their organs, or repairing tissue that wasn't meant to be repaired. But you think you can at least alleviate some of his pain. You tell him so. The flame warrior watches you for a moment, assessing your skill, your sincerity. Finally, he gives a wary nod, and you step forward and reach towards the magic circle surrounding him. Ayla gives a little hiss of caution, and the spell presses against your hand for a moment, a slight resistance in the air… and then, like a soap bubble molding around your wrist without popping, it allows you to stretch your hand out to the man and touch his shoulder. He's warm, warmer than a person with a deadly fever, but not so scalding that it hurts you. It's more like holding your hand near a hot coal. His banked flames lick against your fingers harmlessly, more a flutter in the air than anything else. Interesting. <<if $lavinetkidnapped is false>>You'd expected as much, because when you'd hauled him here magically, he didn't set fire to the chair as soon as you shoved him into it. <</if>> So he has control over whether or not his flames are destructive. You send a wave of cooling, soothing magic out across his body, washing away the aches and pains of the earlier battle. The Elemental flinches at the sensation at first, and then relaxes. No more words are exchanged as you withdraw your hand—but he nods tightly in thanks. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "showyour6humanityi">><</link>></center>

"Feeling better now?" Lavinet asks, an edge of sarcasm lining her voice. The Flameling eyes her like she's an animal who might attack him at any moment. Notably, however, he no longer looks the same way at you. There's a grudging respect there when he glances at you. "You are kind to your enemies," he says reluctantly. "Kinder than my people would be. I suppose that could be a point in your favor." "Does that mean you'll answer our questions?" Briony asks. The Flameling shrugs, glancing at her. "It depends on what they are." The wary slant of his shoulders never drops. "And whether your kindness is actually weakness or strength." <<include "angantcooperates">>

<<nobr>><<if $compassionate lte 40 and $cunning gte 50>> The Flameling doesn't answer, but you catch the almost imperceptible widening of his eyes. He straightens slowly in his chair, folding his arms. Although he remains silent, you can tell you've unnerved him. <<else>> Unfortunately, it seems the Flameling was expecting this kind of tactic, because he only smiles grimly. When he speaks, his voice is crackly, like twigs burning in the summer. "You didn't catch anyone else," he says, his voice deep and powerful. "You wouldn't have been able to take them alive." <br><br> You raise a brow. "We took you alive." <br><br> He shrugs his big shoulders. "It wouldn't happen twice." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "stand6silencev">>

<<nobr>><<if $compassionate lt 40>> The Flameling doesn't answer, but you catch the almost imperceptible widening of his eyes. He straightens slowly in his chair, folding his arms. Although he remains silent, you can tell you've unnerved him. <<else>> Unfortunately, it seems the Flameling was expecting this kind of tactic, because he only smiles grimly. When he speaks, his voice is crackly, like twigs burning in the summer. <br><br> "Kill me, then," he says, "if that's what you want. There goes your only source of information." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "stand6silencev">>

You'll have to be careful, though—you don't know how an Elemental's mind works, what natural defenses he might have against psychic influence and manipulation. If you go too hard, or are too clumsy, he may recognize what you're doing and distrust you even more. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "worksubtle6enchantingi">><<if ($specialization is "enchanter" and $psionic gte 50) or $psionic gte 65>><<setpsionic +5>><<setmagic +3>><<setcunning +5>><<setintelligence +3>><<set $angant += 30>><<else>><<set $angant -= 20>><<setpsionic -3>><<setcunning +10>><</if>><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<if ($specialization is "enchanter" and $psionic gte 50) or $psionic gte 65>> You reach out with your mind, imagining that you're stretching out a ribbon. The ribbon glows with light and is branded with words like FRIENDSHIP, ALLY, GOODWILL, APPROVAL. Carefully, very carefully, you push towards the Flameling's mind, a strangely dark, alien mass—and you wrap the ribbon around his pulsating, shifting thoughts, so gently that he would never even realize that you're doing it. It takes finesse, the skill of an incredibly gifted psionic master. Very few ever manage to infiltrate the thoughts of a species they've never seen before, not in this way. <br><br> The Flameling gives no outward sign that anything's different, but you can tell by the settling of your spell that the Enchantment takes. He still looks around at you all, still wary… but subconsciously, the idea that he can trust you will be starting to take root in his mind. <br><br> "We want to talk to you," Briony says then, folding her arms. Out of anyone in the room, she's most equipped to sense what you were just doing—but if she did notice, you can't tell. "Are you ready to answer our questions?" <br><br> The Flameling shrugs cautiously. "It depends on what you want to ask," he says. Unbidden, his eyes dart to you before darting away as he scowls to himself. <br><br> <<include "angantcooperates">> <<else>> You reach out with your mind, imagining that you're stretching out a ribbon. The ribbon glows with light and is branded with words like FRIENDSHIP, ALLY, GOODWILL, APPROVAL. Carefully, very carefully, you push towards the Flameling's mind, a strangely dark, alien mass—but then, unexpectedly, his thoughts erupt into a frenzy at your presence, forcefully shoving you out of his mind with jagged, angry spikes. <br><br> The Flameling cries out at the sensation, thrashing briefly against his restraints as his brain screams in protest at your intrusion. You hastily retreat, but when the Elemental finally calms down and looks at you, he glares at you with suspicion and anger. He may not know it was you, but he knows something just happened. And he's not happy about it. <br><br> "¤æ‡¬ðƒ ," he spits, in a language that makes your brain smart and your vision shake. Whatever he said, you'd guess it was a curse. <br><br> Tallys stirs, then says something to the man in Elvish. <<if $heritage is "Elf">> "<i>Who are you? What's your name</i>?" <</if>> <br><br> The Flameling laughs bitterly. "So it's true," he says quietly. "The People have fallen in line with the Defilers." <<include "defilers">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Tallys stirs, then says something to the man in Elvish. <<nobr>><<if $heritage is "Elf">> "<i>Who are you? What's your name</i>?" <</if>><</nobr>> The Flameling laughs bitterly. "So it's true," he says quietly. "The People have fallen in line with the Defilers." <<include "defilers">>

<<set $aylakick to true>>He throws a look of loathing at Lavinet, whose expression doesn't change. "And you don't need to speak the Old Tongue to me. You tarnish its purity. We'll speak the language of the rats." Ayla stands suddenly and slams her foot into the wall beside the Flameling's head; tiny spiderweb cracks fissure out from the impact point beneath her heel. "I don't take kindly to being insulted by a talking candlestick," she snarls. "Now, let's try that again. <i>Answer <<c firstname>>'s questions</i>." <<include "angantcooperates">>

You lean closer so that the Flameling looks at you. "Who are you? Why did your people attack? And what do you want?" The Flameling falls silent for a moment, regarding you with an unreadable expression on his face. Then, finally, he looks away, towards Lavinet again. "My name is Angant Hainn," he says, his voice rough. "I am the champion of the Aithne Hainn clan. Bearer of the Blue Flame and the Eye That Sees All." You don't understand really any of that—but you know a capitulation when you see one. He's given you his name. Humanized himself, in a way. Now you have to decide what to do with that. You sit in the other chair across from Angant Hainn while Tallys, Ayla, and Briony lean against the walls. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Smile encouragingly. "That\'s good. It\'s nice to meet you, Angant Hainn. My name is <<c firstname>> <<c surname>>."' 'hegrunts6then'>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Nod curtly. "I am called <<c rank>> <<c surname>>, of the Order of the Shepherds."' 'hegrunts6then'>><<set $angant += 10>><<setloyal +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Regard him coolly. "Keep talking, Angant Hainn."' 'hegrunts6then'>><<setcunning +1>><<setcompassionate -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

He grunts, then says nothing for a moment. You stare at each other like two lions crouching over the same watering hole, though you're the one with the high ground: Angant is still shackled at the neck, wrists, and feet. And from the look in his eyes, he knows it. After a moment, he says grudgingly: "I will only speak to your leader." You smile grimly. "You're looking at $them." Angant's jaw sets. "You?" There's no hiding the hint of scorn in his voice. "You look like a mercenary, not the ruler of this place. Wouldn't that be you?" This he directs to Lavinet, whose face stiffens slightly. Briony stirs behind you, as if annoyed by Angant Hainn's insolence. <<if $aylakick is true>> You give her a quelling glance. It was all right when Ayla kicked the wall, but if the Battle-Mage were to do it, <i>she</i> might blast a hole clear through the whole cell. <</if>> You glance at Lavinet, but her face gives away nothing. She's letting you decide what to say, as you're the one in charge of this interrogation. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"We are both leaders here."' 'weare6both'>><<setlavinet +3>><<set $angant -= 5>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'m the one in charge here."' 'imthe6one'>><<setlavinet -3>><<setcourage +3>><<setreputation +1>><<set $angant += 10>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"She\'s the one in charge."' 'shesthe6one'>><<setlavinet +3>><<if $gender is "male">><<set $lavinetromanceflag += 1>><</if>><<setloyal +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"She\'s the daughter of the actual leader here."' 'shesthe6daughter'>><<setlavinet -5>><<set $angant += 5>><<setcharisma -3>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Snap your fingers in front of his face. "It doesn\'t matter who the leader is. You talk to us if you want to keep your tongue."' 'snapyour6fingers'>><<setcompassionate -5>><<set $angant -= 10>><<setloyal -3>><</link>></li> </ul>

It's technically true: Lavinet is in charge of Lockwood, while you are in charge of this case. <<include "heglances6from">>

It's technically true: you're in charge of this mission, and Lavinet put you in charge of this interrogation, as well. <<include "heglances6from">>

It's technically true. Whatever happens here, it's Lavinet and her people who will have to deal with the fallout, not you. <<include "heglances6from">>

It's true. If Lavinet were truly in charge here, her name would be Lady Lockwood, not Lady Naveen. <<include "heglances6from">>

You can't let him control the conversation. <<include "heglances6from">>

He glances from face to face. "I see." Then he shifts a little and says, his voice wary: "Then answer me one last thing. We have heard you talk amongst yourselves, and you speak often of the <i>Shepherds</i>. What are they? More to the point, what are <i>you</i>?" This last part he directs to you alone. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Answer him truthfully. "The Shepherds are an order of fighters and warriors devoted to protecting the populace from the Endarkened and supernatural threats. They are the only group on the Continent sanctioned to use Diminished powers by the Autarch."' 'answerhim6truthfully'>><<set $angant += 10>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Rebuke him. "I\'m the one asking the questions here."' 'rebukehim6im'>><<set $angant -= 10>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Deflect. "What do you mean, you\'ve heard us talking?"' 'deflectwhat6do'>><<set $angant += 5>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Narrow your eyes. "What do you mean, what am I?"' 'narroryour6eyes'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

The Flameling's eyes widen. "So it's true," he breathes. "The Endarkened truly have returned?" You feel the others' muffled surprise and exchange looks with them. He doesn't even know about the demons? "And who or what is the Autarch?" Angant Hainn continues. "What has been diminished?" He looks around at everyone's grave, silent faces. "Surely you can tell me that much?" <<include "letstry6a">>

The Flameling growls. "I strive for cooperation," he hisses. "If we do not have that, then we have nothing." <<include "letstry6a">>

The Flameling opens his mouth, then shuts it again, as if he'd slipped. He says nothing more, but you hear a tendril of Ayla's thoughts brushing against your own. <i>They've been spying on us,</i> she says. <i>And on Lockwood, before we ever came here. Think about it. Those Sprites, which can go invisible and soundless if they want to? They'd just ride here on the wind, slip into a room, and then carry the information back to the rest. Hael, they could even be spying on us right now…</i> <<nobr>> <<if $lavinetkidnapped is false>> <br><br> <i>Impossible</i>, Tallys butts in. <i>We've sealed up each crack in this cell.</i> <br><br> Ayla scowls. <i>Yeah, but there's still air in here. Who's to say they hadn't gotten in first?</i> <</if>><</nobr>> That initiates a whole tangle of thoughts and voices, though everyone in the room remains outwardly calm and stoic. You mentally wave for silence just as you notice Angant Hainn's eyes flicking between the four of you. He may suspect what you're doing. <<include "letstry6a">>

He studies your face for a long time, and his gaze is like a searchlight, pinning you beneath its regard, searing your brain and scouring the area in the back of your head, rooting around for your secrets and dark thoughts. Finally he turns away and says, "I have not encountered one of your kind in a long time." <<include "letstry6a">>

"Let's try a different tact," Lavinet says then, rearranging the pleats of her skirt in a nonchalant way. "You're clearly out of the loop, if you don't know who the Shepherds are. Why don't you tell us a little about who you are, and what you're doing, and we'll repay the favor as best we can?" Angant Hainn snorts, but he looks at the ground as if he seems to consider it. Finally he says reluctantly, "Very well. You might as well hear our side of things, since if you plan to keep me alive, there will be negotiations." Briony straightens a little at that. "Negotiations? You think your folk will want to barter with us to get you back? Are you that important to them?" Angant Hainn shakes his head. "Just listen," he says. "Everything will be explained." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>The Flameling begins talking...</span></div></div>' "letstry6ai">><</link>></center>

"We Elementals are different from your kind," the being known as Angant Hainn begins. "We are… primordial, tied to the world and its tapestry in a way that you are not. We are its threads. When the world's fabric becomes worn thin over time, we unravel. Do you understand?" Tallys nods, but Lavinet seems more nonplussed. "I think I understand," she murmurs, her fine brow wrinkling in thought. Angant Hainn shoots her a contemptuous look. "Do you? We are among the Firstborn, defiler, quickling: the first beings to crawl out of the primeval World Forge that the gods used to shape the mountains, winds, and oceans themselves. Our bodies still remember the first hammer-blows of creation; our very cells still reverberate with the power of the gods. How could you understand that tie?" Lavinet shifts uneasily. <i>I feel like listening to such talk is blasphemous</i>, she says across your psychic connection, although you're fairly sure she isn't very religious. Still, her unease radiates towards you like a visible cloud; she has been brought up in the cradle of the Autarchy, taught the One-God's canon since before she even learned how to speak. To her, listening to a man made of fire discuss being forged by the gods must be… uncomfortable. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'It\'s uncomfortable for you, too, because this is pagan talk. Perhaps the Elementals merely perceived the One-God as a multitude?' 'itsuncomfortable6for'>><<set $belief to "one-god">><</link>></li> <li><<link 'It\'s uncomfortable for you in that you don\'t believe in any of this: gods, the One-God, nothing. For all you know, the Flamelings were birthed in a volcano.' 'tallysfrowny'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'You\'re neutral to all of this; you just want to hear the man talk.' 'tallysfrowny'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'You have little sympathy for her, though, because Angant Hainn has <i>lived</i> this. How could that be anything but proof of the gods, right in front of you?' 'tallysfrowny'>><<set $belief to "oldfaith">><</link>></li> </ul>

It's a splinter theory among the religious scholars of the West: that the pagan gods of the old pantheon were actually the One-God in different guises and forms, the same way a single beam of sunlight creates multiple rainbow refractions when it meets a simple shard of glass. <<include "tallysfrowny">>

Lavinet's sentiment earns a flare of ire from Tallys. <i>It is not blasphemy, it is the truth. His people walked this plane long before yours had even wiggled free from the ooze.</i> Briony shifts anxiously. <i><b>Gods</b>, Tallys.</i> <i>What?</i> <i>You don't have to say it like…</i> <<include "aylabreaks6in">>

Ayla breaks in. <i>Would everybody shut the fuck up?!</i> Angant Hainn keeps talking. "When the gods went to their eternal slumber, after the Dawn Wars, and magic and light and all their life essence began to leach from this world, we, too, became drained. Lethargic. We are tied inexorably to the life force that keeps both the gods and this world alive and full of brightness—full of power—and as the sun began to be overtaken by shadow, so too did we begin to wilt and wither and enter the long slow decay of all things." He swallows thickly. "Many of us knew what was happening; we gathered, went into the Thielwood or into the lakes under the Shield Peaks or the trenches of the Sea of Storms. And then…" He pauses, takes a breath. "We died alongside the gods, in a fashion. We call it <i>akala</i>, the death-sleep, the coma of the world itself. For us, it's long period of hibernation that's very close to death, and if we stay in it long enough, we will be scattered into nothing. Our spirits vacate their bodies, and we are… extinguished." This gives even Ayla pause. <i>Huh? I don't get it.</i> Lavinet shushes her. Tallys says, her voice calm and even: "When did this happen? When did you first enter this death-sleep?" Angant Hainn shrugs as best he can with his wrists shackled to the arms of his iron chair. "We do not measure time as you might. It was not as long as the gods have been gone, but other than that, I cannot say." She folds her arms. "Even without an exact date, your version of history corresponds with ours. To the outside world, the Elementals have been gone for over eight hundred years." Angant Hainn nods hesitantly. "Yes. That seems right. It took us some time to understand that, to orientate ourselves, but… there it is." Briony breaks in then, voicing the question you're all thinking. "So your people were forced into a kind of hibernation, due to the absence of the gods, or the weakening of the world, or the receding of magic, or something like that? How did you wake up, after spending so long in… <i>akala</i>, I think you said?" Angant Hainn frowns. "That, I do not know. I only know that there was a sudden… <i>awakening</i>. The Elementals suddenly had the power to wake again, to be a part of the world again—and we crawled up from the ground like cicadas once gone dormant, now ready to see the light once more." "That explains your sudden reappearance, then," Lavinet says faintly. "You literally just returned to the world of the living." "Our souls were like stones dropped back into the ocean of this world," Angant Hainn agrees gravely. "A stone never knows when it will be dropped, or why. It just is." <<include "questionanganthainn">>

<ul class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("youmust6know")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"You must know more. What made you wake up? Why now?"</div>' 'youmust6know'>><<if $intelligence gte 70>><<set $angant += 10>><</if>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("didyou6have")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Did you have any sense of time at all, or was it just like waking up from a nap?"</div>' 'didyou6have'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("wheredid6you")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Where did you wake up? Where did you all hide yourselves?"</div>' 'wheredid6you'>><<setcunning +3>><<setintelligence +3>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("whatabout6the")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"What happened to the Elementals who didn\'t join the hibernation?"</div>' 'whatabout6the'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("allof6theelementals") and $angantaskotherelementals is false>><<link '<div class="question-item">"<i>All</i> of the Elementals woke up? So we could be seeing multitudes of them flying around soon?"</div>' 'allof6theelementals'>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link 'The conversation shifts to other topics.' 'butnone6of'>><</link>></li> </ul>

He pauses, seems to weigh his words heavily before muttering: "As I said, I'm not sure. Our scholars have theorized… that something has happened with the gods. Something has disturbed the ripple of their slumber, enough to finally shake us awake and allow us to rejoin this world. But what that is, we do not know. We have not heard them speak." You're not sure what's more bizarre: that the Elementals have <i>scholars</i>, or that they could just wake up out of nowhere one day and rejoin the world of the living after eight hundred years. <<nobr>><<if $intelligence gte 70>> <br><br> "Could it have to do with the Endarkened?" you ask. "Their return must have disturbed the natural order of things, something like that." <br><br> Angant Hainn nods slowly. "I did not know they had returned," he says, his voice thick and heavy. "In our short time back, we have not encountered them. But they could have something to do with it, yes. We can't discount anything." <<else>> <br><br> "Could it have to do with the Endarkened?" Briony asks then, furrowing her brows. "Their coming back must have disturbed the natural order of things, something like that." <br><br> Angant Hainn nods slowly. "I did not know they had returned," he says, his voice thick and heavy. "In our short time back, we have not encountered them. But they could have something to do with it, yes." <</if>><</nobr>><<include "questionanganthainn">>

The Flameling ponders your question for a moment. "I am not sure," he admits. "I do not remember much of the slumber, or even the time directly before it. I simply remember… sleeping, feeling the stars turn above me somewhere, around and around. And then, suddenly—it was as if light had flooded my limbs, as if strength had suddenly poured into my body, the way molten steel pours into a mold. My eyes snapped open, and I stood without realizing it. Then, by instinct, I went up to meet the sun, and all of the brothers and sisters who had sheltered with me were awake and climbing up, too." "Did you age?" He shakes his head. "Even outside of the <i>akala</i>, the Elementals do not age in the same sense you do. We go from young to mature, but after we are fully grown, that's it. There is no… oldness, nothing like that. We simply <i>are</i>." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I\'ve got to know. Do your people... you know?"' 'ivegot6to'>><<setcourage +2>><<setcunning -1>><<set $angant -= 10>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"How fascinating. So you remained exactly the same as when you went to sleep?"' 'howfascinating6so'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"If you don\'t die of old age, what kills you, then?"' 'ifyou6dont'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Angant Hainn frowns—it's a very surly, challenging expression. "Do we what?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Make a circle with one hand and stick your finger in it suggestively.' 'elementalssus'>><<setcharisma -3>><<setlavinet -3>><<settallys -3>><<setayla +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Do you... have sex?"' 'elementalssus'>><<setcourage +1>><<setcharisma -3>><<setlavinet -3>><<settallys -3>><<setayla +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"No... never mind." Now\'s not the time to be asking that.' 'anganthainnbackdown'>><<setcourage -3>><<setintelligence +1>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Briony gives a soft little shriek of embarrassment and incredulity. Angant Hainn doesn't bat an eye. "We give and take pleasure," he says scornfully. "Procreation is a completely separate matter and has nothing to do with carnal activities. Elementals do not conceive and carry their young the way you do." You're already in deep, so you might as well go ahead with it. "Do you marry?" His look turns even more contemptuous and impatient. "No. There's barely even a word for that among our kind. We are more…" He gives a vague gesture like a circle or a whirlpool. "Unattached. Free. Most of us usually have multiple partners, sometimes even together. A very few pair-bond with one person for life. And many of us are not interested in 'that' at all, and never will be." "<<c firstname>>," Lavinet hisses. "I hardly think this is the time to be discussing this!" Tallys nods. "She's right. We need to get back to the topic at hand: the Elementals suddenly awakening after eight hundred years. Why did they do so? And how?" Angant Hainn shakes his head. "I already told you. I don't know." <<include "questionanganthainn">>

He shrugs, seemingly bored by this line of conversation. "I think so, yes." <<include "questionanganthainn">>

The Elemental gives you a look of utter scorn. <<include "questionanganthainn">>

Angant Hainn's look grows guarded. "Why do you want to know?" You shrug. "I'm just curious." He snorts. "Well, turn your curiosity elsewhere." <<include "questionanganthainn">>

For a moment, Angant Hainn presses his lips together, as if contemplating whether it's wise to reveal such a valuable secret to the enemy. He says vaguely: "It was decided that the Elementals would divide into five, and shelter in sacred places throughout the Continent. One site would be at its center, while the others would be in its north, south, west, and east." "So which one did you shelter in?" you press. "The central location?" He nods. "Yes. And each site is marked by a World Tree. You enter the Tree and follow its main root down. A World Tree's largest roots run along the centerlines of the earth itself—the <i>axis mundi</i>, in your tongue. Following such roots leads…" He pauses again, hisses through his teeth, and continues, "Let's say to a place so deep in the earth that it lies outside of time itself. There, you might find underground lakes as big as oceans, the molten center of the earth beating like a vast heart, even currents of the air where the World Tree's roots touch the surface. It's said even that the World Tree's smaller roots spread all throughout the Continent, all the way to the sea, tying it to all things that grow in this land. We sheltered there, beneath its vast and sacred roots, and slept in that deep Earth-heart place." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I\'ve never seen or heard of a \'World Tree\' before."' 'ivenever6seen'>><<set $angant -= 10>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"What about the other locations? The other Elementals?"' 'whatabout6thelocations'>><<set $angant += 10>><<set $angantaskotherelementals to true>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Where is the entrance to this World Tree?"' 'whereis6the'>><<set $angant -= 10>><</link>></li> </ul>

The Flameling's expression clouds. "Truly?" He glances at Tallys, who looks bemused. "Then truly, the Defilers of this land have eradicated even its truest, deepest knowledge." <<include "questionanganthainn">>

Angant Hainn frowns. "I do not know what became of them. They could still be asleep, and we were the first to awaken. Or they could remain asleep forever. Or something terrible has happened to them, and we are the last of our kind. We have sent Wind envoys to scout for any signs of them, but we are freshly woken and disorientated, trying to get our own bearings. Navigating this changed land and making the journey back down along another World Tree root to see what happened to the others could take months… even years." Ayla is surprised into answering. "Did it take months for you to come back up to the surface?" The Flameling shakes his head. "No, but as I said, time works differently down there." <<include "questionanganthainn">>

Angant Hainn's expression clouds. "Do not bother," he warns. "Only an Elemental can find one, even though it may be as vast as a mountain. And only an Elemental can guide one along its roots. Else the intruder will find themselves crushed by the earth… or worse." "That doesn't answer my question." <<nobr>><<if $angant gte 30>> The Flameling regards you narrowly. "Our entrance was in Thielwood," he says finally. That's all he seems willing to say. <<else>> The Flameling regards you narrowly, but says nothing. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "questionanganthainn">>

"I wish I knew," the warrior says, his voice bitter. "If the world's god-power—<i>taika</i>, in your tongue"—this he says to Tallys, who inclines her head—"continued to leak from this world, the others would have dwindled to nothing and been forgotten." It's a bit cryptic, but you surmise he means they all would have gone truly extinct. <<include "questionanganthainn">>

Angant Hainn shakes his head. "Only those in our location have awoken," he says. "Perhaps it's a slow process… or perhaps the others throughout the Continent may never wake up. My people have sent envoys to check, but it may takes months or even years to know for sure. The land has changed since we were gone. We may not be able to find where the others were sleeping again. We may be the only ones left." <<include "questionanganthainn">>

"But none of this explains why you attacked our people," Lavinet interjects then, her back straight even as she wrings her white gloves in her hands. "You said yourself that your torpor was caused by… the gods' absence, or something like that? And your awakening, too, seems to have had nothing to do with us, since you don't even know why it happened. So why attack Lockwood? Why invade our estate and terrorize our vassals?" The Flameling suddenly turns and regards her with so much hate in his eyes that the very air seems to heat. It's a very subtle shift in temperature, more a breath of warmth than anything—but at the sheer rage in his eyes, Briony puts a hand on her sword, and Ayla tenses. "I will tell you why," Angant Hainn says in a low, deadly voice. "Do you know what the Landsmeet is?" Tallys stiffens, but she says nothing through your mental connection. The rest of you shake your heads; you have no idea what it is. Angant Hainn's voice actually trembles, as does his breath. "The Landsmeet," he begins, "is our most sacred meeting ground. It's a holy site, the only place where all Elementals find commonality, no matter their race or form. It's where we would convene, once every fifteen years, to hold court, parlay with each other, address matters that concerned all of the races—Elemental and Children of Light, both. It is where we once voted to aid your people in the Dawn Wars, the fight against the Endarkened." "It's a summit?" Briony murmurs softly, like she's testing out the word for the first time. Angant Hainn doesn't look at her. "It is more than that," he says quietly, firmly. "The Landsmeet is… it is <i>everything</i>. It is where Bes and Thimben married—it is where their feet made flowers spring from bare rock, ancient fire erupt like a geyser of water from the ground. The Landsmeet is…!" He pulls a ragged breath; his breathing has turned harsher, almost into panting, and now the cell is definitely hot, the air warming so that it feels like a sunny spring day. Angant Hainn is growing agitated. Blue flame flickers at the sharp corners of him, at his elbows and throat. "When we die," he says, struggling to master himself, "we return to the element from which we were created. When I die, when my flames are quenched and my body is destroyed utterly, my soul and essence shall be scattered, so that I will exist in every hearthfire and forge across the Continent—but no longer as Angant Hainn. I shall be unthinking again, basic, nothing more than true, pure, primal flame." He sucks in another breath. "But at the Landsmeet… there are rituals. There is the holy flame. And the stone table, and the lake of dreams, and the rainbow zephyr." He shakes his head at your confused looks. "The Landsmeet is where we can remake those who have fallen, and where we can birth souls anew. It is the site of our very creation. We die and are reborn in the Landsmeet; we also shape new children there. It is where the Green Lady gave us that power, and said to us that we shall dwell and meet in the place where she had union with Thimben, and we shall live in harmony with each other, as nature both dictates and defies." He spears Lavinet with a vicious, wild stare, looking like he wants to set her on fire and watch her burn. "And you ask me why we attack your kind—you, whose people dirty the air with smoke from your machines, who devour the fields like locusts and turn the earth pale and sick in your ever-constant greed for <i>more</i>? Ask yourself: what has become of our Landsmeet, the one place we held sacred above all others? The only place where we can repopulate our kind?" He suddenly lunges, straining against the confines of his shackles. "<i>You have built your castle on top of it!</i> <i><b>And it is not yours!</b></i>" <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "brionygasps6and">><</link>></center>

Briony gasps, and Lavinet's jaw uncharacteristically pops open. Tallys's eyes are wide, while Ayla begins to knead her forehead. As for you, you feel as if a stone has dropped way down into your gut. "No," Lavinet whispers. "That… that can't be! You must be mistaken!" <<if $lavinetkidnapped is false>>This seems to drive Angant Hainn into an even greater frenzy; you feel the magic of the wards sparking against him like an itch in your brain. <<else>> This seems to drive Angant Hainn into an even greater frenzy; heat touches your face like you're standing in front of a bonfire blaze. <</if>> But for now, he's trapped, left only to trash uselessly against his constraints. "You think we would mistake such a thing?" the Flameling roars. "We are bound to the Landsmeet just as the World Tree binds every plant on this Continent together! It dominates our hearts and minds! We could no sooner mistake it than we could mistake a stranger for our parent, or the setting sun for the rising!" He lets out a desperate, agonized sound. "We staggered into the light, fresh from our slumber and aching to make pilgrimage to our sanctuary, to our holiest ground, and you… <i>you tainted it</i>! You tore it apart and used it to make bricks for your—for your monstrous city!" Lavinet's face has gone pale; she stands abruptly. "My ancestors have been here for five hundred years!" she cries. "Half a millennium! How were we to know we couldn't use the land? It's not as if you left a note!" <<if $lavinetkidnapped is false>> Angant Hainn erupts into flame, though the fire shrinks back from your wards. He takes no notice, actually bellowing: "Five hundred years? We have met here for five thousand or more!" <<else>> Angant Hainn erupts into flame, bellowing, "Five hundred years? We have met here for five thousand or more!" <</if>> "But you left!" "Not of our own choice!" He spits, the saliva crackling and acidic on the ground. "If anything, we were driven out by <i>you</i>, by your kind—you stamped out the good and green of this world, the fey god-power and magic and light of it, and in so doing you made us too weak to remain! Defiler, ruiner! Your kind breed like rabbits, letting your progeny run wild and spread out across the land as if it's yours to take. You pay no heed to what came before! How do you think it feels, to awaken after eight hundred years to find that the world has changed, the demons have returned, and our most sanctified land has been taken from us, plundered, and used to provide cud for your cows?" Lavinet falters, and after a moment, it becomes clear she has nothing to say to that. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "brionygasps6andi">><</link>></center>

<<if $lavinetkidnapped is false>> It takes some time for Angant Hainn to regain control of himself, and in the meantime, the wards spark and fizzle and flare like the anvil of a blacksmith's forge. <<else>> It takes some time for Angant Hainn to regain control of himself, agitated as he is. <</if>> Finally, he exhausts himself, breathing weakly as he slumps against his constraints. Lavinet looks devastated, while Ayla paces restlessly in the background. Briony chews her thumb. Tallys's face looks like it's carved from stone. "I understand how you feel, cousin," she says to Angant Hainn finally, causing him and Lavinet to look up sharply. "Trust me, I do. My people, too, have suffered under the hands of the Norms. They have driven us out of Sylfaen, slaughtered our warriors, and left us to roam across the Continent as nomads." You look at her. <i>Tallys…</i> But she holds up a hand. "However," she begins, "surely you can see how this situation arose? Their people are young and short-lived. Their memories restart every few generations. And after your disappearance, who would have been alive to keep the concept of the Landsmeet common knowledge? Even I did not know much about it—and I was my clan's Keeper, guardian of all our knowledge back to the days of Queen Ilsevel. How could they have known? To them, it would have simply been a matter of finding empty land, a home for their people who wanted to establish an outpost. Anyone could have done it. The Mages, the Ket. Even the Elves. <i>They could not have known</i>. They did not know it was yours; they did not think they were hurting anyone by settling it." Ringing silence meets this. Everyone in the room is staring at Tallys. She meets your eye, then looks back to the Flameling. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'You\'re pleasantly surprised by her perspective. Could she be changing her views on the Norms, little by little?' 'moreoverthe6elf'>><<set $tallysharden += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'You\'re somewhat disappointed in her. This isn\'t like her. This isn\'t the strong-willed Tallys you know.' 'moreoverthe6elf'>><<set $tallysharden -= 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'You\'ve never been more proud of her.' 'moreoverthe6elf'>><<set $tallysharden += 2>><<settallys +1>><</link>></li> <<if ($tallyssex is true or $tallysromance is true) or $tallysromanceflag gte 20>><li><<link 'You\'ve never been more in love with her.' 'moreoverthe6elf'>><<set $tallysharden += 2>><<settallys +1>><<set $tallysromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li><</if>> </ul>

"Moreover," the Elf continues, folding her arms, "what do you hope to gain by attacking the people of Lockwood now? Will you punish them for the sins of their ancestors? Will you slaughter them, down to the last child, because they happened to claim land you were absent from for near a millennium?" Angant Hainn growls. "We have not <i>slaughtered</i> anyone," he spits. "Much as we are willing to wage war over the Landsmeet…" His voice trails off ominously for a moment. "We did not resort to all-out violence. Not yet. Not only are we aware of the Norms' potential ignorance in their sacrilege, but we assumed that unnecessary casualties could invoke the wrath of other forces we have not considered or understood. Such as your people." He nods at your Shepherd medallion. "We do not know enough about the new world yet to make such decisions lightly. We only intended to scare your people off our lands, make them think it was no longer viable territory… It's why we have refrained from actually killing anyone. We only wanted to empty the realm, allowing us to explore it freely, and to reclaim it without bloodshed." "You burned their houses and flooded their fields," Lavinet says then, her voice very flat. In the light of Angant Hainn's flames, her burgundy eyes look more like the color of dried blood. "Many of them were driven to thievery—some starved. It's the middle of winter, and you…" Briony lays a hand on her shoulder, and she falls into angry silence. For a moment, you think you see something like shame flicker across the flame warrior's face. Then Angant Hainn says, quietly, "It was the most peaceful resolution we could find. Vacate the farmers without killing them outright, and we reclaim the Landsmeet." "Then why did you break in through the ceiling tonight?" Ayla asks him. "Did you think the nobles would react the same way, too? Flee at the first sign of trouble you gave them?" Angant Hainn shakes his head. "Whatever else you people are, you are persistent," he admits. "Every time we empty a village, more gather in the next. We decided that our strategy of attrition was not working—that there were simply too many people to scare them all away. So we sent our spies to the place that many of the Norms had fled to, the seat of their leadership… and we listened. Eventually we formulated the plan to capture you"—he nods at Lavinet—"and hold you hostage in exchange for the return of the Landsmeet." Then he gestures at himself with his chin. "As you can see, that plan did not play out in our favor. We knew the Shepherds were here, whoever or whatever the Shepherds were, but we thought we would be able to handle them. It turns out we were wrong." "How interesting," Lavinet says brightly. "So you meant to kidnap me from my home and ransom me to my people?" "Yes," Angant Hainn says dully. "And don't look too upset, for I know you mean to do the same with me." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Did you really think that Lavinet\'s people would all agree to evacuate their ancestral homes in exchange for one life?"' 'didyou6really'>><<setcunning +1>><<set $angant -= 10>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"But even if you emptied the fiefdom, would the Landsmeet still work? So many buildings have been built on top of it. There\'s no way you could still access the same features you need in order to, say, create your young..."' 'buteven6if'>><<set $angant += 10>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"But do you really need this exact land? Can\'t you recreate the Landsmeet in some other place, one that\'s not already occupied?"' 'butdo6you'>><<set $angant -= 10>><</link>></li> </ul>

He shrugs miserably. "We do not know the ways of your kind. We didn't back then, and we certainly don't now. It was an act of desperation." He stares down at his shackled feet. "And now we see how little it helped." <<include "theremust6be">>

His face crumples, and his shoulders sag miserably. "We do not know," the Flameling whispers. "We are still drawn to this place, as powerfully as birds are to the north. We do not know if it will still bless us with the gift of children. Even if it did, finding out would require us to burrow into the earth, to raise rivers of lava back to the surface, to boil the lakes in order to raise our younglings…" He trails off, but you know what he means. To do so would render this area uninhabitable by humans. <<include "theremust6be">>

"Haven't you been listening?" Angant snarls suddenly. "This is consecrated land blessed by the Green Lady herself. And with the gods locked in their slumber, it's not as if we can wake her up and ask her to do it again a hundred miles away. It must be here. We are still drawn to this place, the way birds are to the north. We can not simply… ignore it, replace it, make a new one somewhere else. <i>This is it</i>." <<include "theremust6be">>

"There must be <i>some</i> solution," Lavinet says then, passionately. But from the way her lip slightly trembles, you're not sure she actually believes it. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "youtalk6forwhile">><</link>></center>

You talk for a while more, and Angant Hainn proves to be quite free with his information now that you've broken past his defenses. He speaks in the hushed, fervent tones of a worshiper in church, a muted and frenzied look coming into his eye whenever he speaks of the Landsmeet. You've seen that look before. It's one of obsession, desperation. You know then that he and the other Elementals would die to get this place back. The only problem is that there are at least three thousand innocent lives and countless buildings camped on top of it. And they're not going anywhere, judging by the look on Lavinet's face. "Well," she finally says in a clipped, business-like tone, "this has all been… very illuminating. After tonight's earlier <i>interaction</i>, I find myself needing time to withdraw and digest this new information." She levels a look at Angant Hainn. "We will decide what to do with you soon." "Wait," he says as you stand to leave. "If there's any hope that we can reclaim what's rightfully ours…" "Passive-aggressive son of a bitch," Ayla mutters under her breath. You raise your brows at Angant Hainn. "Yes?" He looks away, then lets out a long, slow breath. "Negotiation," he says. "I don't care what happens to me in a personal sense—kill me, if you want. But the Elder Council will agree to meet with you, if you wish it. And I would be a helpful presence, both as a translator and as a show of good faith. Having me there would show them that you are not single-minded animals; that you can be reasoned with. It would ease the tensions on both sides." He pauses. "Please. If you don't want us to progress to all-out war with each other, consider it." Briony shifts. <i>How do we know it's not a trap?</i> she asks. <i>Or a threat?</i> Lavinet makes a clicking sound behind her teeth. "How do I contact your… Elder Council?" "Stand on your ramparts and speak it into the wind," Angant Hainn returns immediately. "The Sprites will hear it and bear word back to the others. Then they will tell you where to meet. But you must hurry, for if they don't hear anything from me or you by noon today, they shall know there's no hope of peaceful resolution—and they will launch another last-ditch attack on the town." He stops, looks at you. His voice is as rough as gravel when he speaks again. "And this time, they will not aim so carefully." Lavinet turns on her heel and exits the cell. "Goodbye." She holds the door open for the rest of you and makes a point of slamming it behind her, hard enough for the resulting wind to blow out the rest of Angant's flame like a snuffed candle. He's plunged into darkness, and so are you when she slams the eye-slot shut, too. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "welltallys6asks">><</link>></center>

"Well?" Tallys asks, some time later. Now you're standing on a private, high balcony, rubbing your arms and shivering in the chill night air—despite yourself, there was something vaguely comforting about Angant Hainn's ambient warmth. Now the evening feels far colder without it. Far, far out in the distance, you can see the first rosy fingertip of pink light beginning to bleed into the sky's dark blue. Dawn is approaching, and you haven't slept a wink. Lavinet is pacing, her gloved hands clasped behind her like she's a military commander considering her strategies before a battle. Perhaps she is. "Well," she says. "It seems negotiation is our only choice. We can't wage direct war with them. They have a nasty habit of disappearing into the environment, and you can't fight <i>nature</i>. It'd be about as effective as firing a bullet into a storm." "But what're you going to negotiate <i>for</i>?" Ayla asks, crossing her arms. "They want the Landsmeet—whatever that is, whatever they can take. You've built your whole city on top of it. What's there to negotiate?" "I don't… I don't know," Lavinet says then, a bit faintly. She turns and stares out at the estate grounds, at the shrubs standing guard in the darkness below like misshapen sentries. If you stare at them long enough, they start to look like people with branches for limbs, moving subtly in the night wind. "The way I see it," you begin slowly, "there's not a lot of room for compromise here. They want Lockwood and its surrounding lands; they were prepared to kidnap you for it, and they are likely prepared to invade and slaughter your people wholesale, too. Your people won't give up the fiefdom…" "<i>Never</i>," Lavinet says then, her voice a sudden cry like a night bird's. "And why should we? We've been here half a thousand years—they were already gone <i>three hundred years</i> before my people even came to this land—" "That's not their fault, though," Tallys puts in quietly. "They can't help the way their people waned, the way they were driven into hibernation…" "And I am not <i>saying</i> it's their fault, Captain Ironwood," Lavinet practically spits. Then she sucks in a breath, smooths down her hair, and tries to regain some of her courtly composure. "But my people are innocent, too. We could not have known. Even if we had, what would anyone expect us to do? Forfeit free and unclaimed land just because an ancient and gone-away race <i>used to</i> occupy it, and left no note of their intention to return and reclaim it? It would be one thing if they were still there when we arrived… but they weren't. They were hundreds of miles underground, sleeping. For centuries. We couldn't have known. This is—our <i>lives</i> are here. Hundreds of generations of our ancestors have lived and died here. We can't give that up. I won't see my people punished for something they had no fault in." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Even if it means the Elementals die out for good?"' 'evenif6it'>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"No one is saying you will, Lavinet. We\'re just trying to understand our options."' 'noone6is'>><<setintelligence +1>><<setlavinet +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Calm down. You\'re acting hysterical."' 'calmdown6youre'>><<setcharisma -3>><<setcompassionate -1>><<setlavinet -10>><<set $lavinetromanceflag to 0>><<setbriony -3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'m with you. Their problems are not your people\'s concern. And don\'t forget, they burned and starved your vassals without even explaining why."' 'imwith6you'>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setcunning +1>><<setlavinet +1>><<setorder -5>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Are there even any records to prove that what he\'s saying is true? Were there geysers of fire or rainbow zephyrs here when your people first came?"' 'arethere6even'>><<setintelligence +2>><</link>></li> </ul>

Lavinet falters, then stares at you. "What? No—" "They can't bear new children without the Landsmeet," you point out. "And without procreation, eventually they'll begin to die of old age or mortal killing. And then their extinction will truly begin." Briony bites her lip, hard. Lavinet glances at her and says, "What?" Briony trembles for a moment, and you don't think it's because of the cold. After a moment, she murmurs, "It's awful of me to even think it, but—" Ayla turns to her. "But what?" Briony shakes her head, pink hair swishing around her cheeks. "But didn't you already think they <i>were</i> extinct? Hasn't the world believed they were gone, well and truly gone, for at least several hundred years? We can't put their demise on Lavinet. If this did happen—if this is the beginning of their true extinction event—then—it's not <i>her</i> fault. The world wouldn't even be that different, would it? We've already been living that reality for eight hundred years. The world's already accepted it." She looks around helplessly. "It's like thinking a kind of tree went extinct centuries ago, only to find a single specimen in the wilderness unexpectedly. Only, that specimen's already dying, too. Is it really that much of a difference if it goes out for good?" Tallys's jaw clenches. "If we can do something to prevent it from dying, with the knowledge and understanding that we have now, then we need to take it." Briony nods miserably. "Yes, I suppose you're right." <<nobr>><<if $ayla gte 65 and $intelligence gte 65>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "whatwas6allabout">><</link>></center> <<else>> "Or maybe it's not your problem," Ayla points out then, folding her arms. "If I found some kind of rare pine tree that was supposed to be extinct, I wouldn't think much of it, and I'd move on." <br><br> Lavinet puts a hand to her brow. "This is too much to consider right now," she says, closing her eyes. "I have too much on my plate before trying to process the moral implications of saving or not saving an entire species." <br><br> <<include "sowhat6aredo">> <</if>><</nobr>>

"What was all that about their children, anyway?" Ayla asks then, scratching her arm. "I didn't really get it." You stroke your chin. "It sounds as if the Elementals have two ways of… creating more of themselves. They don't seem to mate or give birth in the usual way. In their more straightforward method, it seems that they create new children by use of the Landsmeet." "Imagine two or more artists coming together to shape a clay vase," Tallys puts in then. "Only, the vase can only be fired to completion in a special kiln. That kiln is the Landsmeet." "Okay," Ayla says. "But then there's another way. He said something about dying and being remade." "That's exactly how it sounds," you say. "In addition to making new… vases… with new material, it seems the Elementals possess the ability to remake old souls who have been killed, as well. Making a new vase with clay from the old one." "It's reincarnation," Briony says, her look clearing. "When they die, their souls go back to the aether, or to their primal element, or whichever—but it seems they can be given shape and new life again, and call their souls back into new bodies. Theoretically, they can just recycle themselves over and over, being reborn into newly-made forms." "But they need the Landsmeet to do it," Tallys puts in. "Otherwise, they simply remain 'dead'—and new children can't be made, either. It sounds complicated, but that's the most important point: they need the Landsmeet to do it all, or they will go out and extinguish." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "sowhat6aredo">><</link>></center>

After a moment, she begins to relax, unclenching her jaw. "Yes, of course. Forgive me, darling. I am…" She sighs. "It's been a long night." <<include "sowhat6aredo">>

Lavinet's lip curls, and for a wild moment, you think she might lunge at you. Instead, she is very, very still; and then she snaps open her fan and covers the bottom half of her face, laying the outspread pleats against her lips. She curtsies. "Of course," she says softly. "I am calm now." Despite that, you can feel the quiet rage radiating from her. Even Tallys looks at you and shakes her head. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "sowhat6aredo">><</link>></center>

She nods slowly. "That is true. Such guerilla tactics would be unforgivable in any other circumstance." "Thankfully, this is a unique situation begetting unique considerations," Tallys puts in then. "I won't tell you how to feel about your people being hurt, but try and put yourself in the Elementals' shoes. They emerged from their eight-hundred-year hibernation, disorientated, confused, and frightened. They discovered their only sanctuary has been ripped from them, made unrecognizable—and even more magic and power has left the world since before they were unwillingly driven into their slumber. The demons have returned, the Autarchy now rules, Norms are in charge while Elves, Mages, Ket, and Hunters are Diminished, and new technology peppers the land. There weren't even <i>guns</i> around when they went to sleep. Can you imagine how terrifying that must be?" She folds her arms. "They weren't fully in their right minds. They may still not be. Can we blame them for lashing out, for clinging to the only bit of familiarity they have in this strange new world?" "I certainly can," Lavinet mutters, looking away. "But I take your point. I won't condemn them to the gallows—not quite yet." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "sowhat6aredo">><</link>></center>

Lavinet falters. "I… I don't know. It was so long ago—I never took note of geological features…" "There are brief mentions of a large lake, possibly formed by a meteor crater, that's since dried up," Tallys says then. She's spent all day with the scholars of Lockwood, so she would know. "I didn't see anything else, but I wasn't looking as far back as eight hundred years ago. I thought that whatever was happening had to be tied to something more recent." "Didn't we all," Lavinet murmurs bitterly. "In any case, nothing like that exists around here now…" <<include "sowhat6aredo">>

"So what are you going to do?" Briony asks her, laying a hand on the noblewoman's elbow. Lavinet sighs. "I will meet with their Elder Council, I suppose. I don't see any other choice. But…" She trails off. "I don't know how I'll be able to do it without the presence of my father. Even convincing him not to eradicate these—people—on sight will be difficult enough as it is. He will not want to parlay. It would like asking him to negotiate with chickens for the coop he built for them." She shakes her head. "If he even allows the negotiations to occur in the first place, he will only inflame and disrupt the process. Him and all of his old guard advisors—and most of the other nobles, too. You saw how hard it was for them to be civil just towards <i>you</i>. Imagine getting them to remain polite towards the beings made of fire and water who just broke in and attacked them tonight." "So what do we do?" Tallys asks again. Lavinet ponders it. "We must meet the Elder Council alone," she says after a moment. "In secret, if we must." She curtsies to you suddenly, bowing her head shockingly low. "I regret having to burden you with this more than I already have—but I'll need your help once more. All of you. You've proven yourselves the only effective safeguards against any tricks the Elementals might employ. And the Shepherds can serve as a third party to the proceedings, both as witnesses and as mediators between Lockwood and the Elder Council." She clears her throat. "I know I was the one who called you here, but you don't have a true stake in seeing either side win out. Whatever happens to Lockwood, you will still earn your payment and be able to return to Haven with no trouble. And I think your presence will be the neutral, balancing force that we need in order to keep the peace." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"All right. We\'ll do our best to remain neutral and impartial."' 'allright6well'>><<setorder +5>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"But of course we\'re biased towards you. We\'re your friends."' 'butof6course'>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setcharisma +1>><<setlavinet +3>><<if $gender is "male">><<set $lavinetromanceflag += 1>><</if>><<setbriony +2>><<setayla +1>><<if $aylaharden gte 1>><<set $aylaromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"The Shepherd creed directs us to protect civilians from \'the supernatural\' as well as Endarkened. I\'d say the Elementals count as supernatural, so of course we\'re going to side with you over them. They\'re still the enemy."' 'theshepherd6creed'>><<setlavinet +3>><<settallys -3>><<if $tallysromanceflag gte 5>><<set $tallysromanceflag -= 1>><</if>><<setloyal +2>><<setcompassionate -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"If anything, I think we\'d side with the Elementals. They\'d be considered Diminished, after all, just like us. And I feel a certain kinship with them."' 'ifanything6ithink'>><<settallys +3>><<setayla +1>><<setlavinet -8>><<setloyal -5>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Now hang on a minute. Our mission was to uncover the mystery of what was happening here. We\'ve done that. Handling negotiations is a whole other beast, and we need to be compensated for that."' 'nowhang6on'>><<setcunning +10>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setloyal -10>><<setlavinet -8>><<setbriony -3>><<setayla -1>><<if $lavinetromanceflag gte 4>><<set $lavinetromanceflag -= 3>><</if>><<if $cunning gte 65>><<set $lavimoregold to true>><<else>><<setreputation -3>><</if>><</link>></li> </ul>

Lavinet smiles faintly. "Thank you, <<c firstname>>." "So, how are we supposed to do this in secret?" Ayla asks then. <<include "thenoblewoman6bows">>

Briony nods earnestly, though Ayla and Tallys look more reserved. Despite this, Lavinet smiles. "Thank you, <<c firstname>>," she whispers, laying a warm hand on your arm. "I haven't—I don't have many friends like you. Many of them—they're alliances, not true friends. Most would abandon me at the first ill wind. As you might have seen." She looks around at all of you. "I'm… I'm so grateful to you all that I find myself a bit speechless. I thank the One-God that you responded to my letter in time, and that it was the four of you who answered. I think it's possible we could have all been killed tonight, if not at some point in the near future, if it weren't for you." Ayla clears her throat in an embarrassed manner. "Well, don't thank us yet," she says gruffly. "How do you propose we keep this all a secret from your father?" <<include "thenoblewoman6bows">>

Tallys looks at you sharply. "They're beings of magic and ancient power, <<c firstname>>," she says, her voice low. "I would think you would recognize how similar they are to us. If anything, it's our duty to strengthen their relationships with the general populace and foster peaceful relations between them and the outside world, the same way we're given assignments to quell Mage uprisings in Ashtown." You glance at Briony and Ayla, who shake their heads. "I haven't made up my mind, yet," Ayla mutters, glancing away. "We'll just do the negotiations, yeah?" "But how?" Briony asks then, looking to Lavinet. "There's still the matter of getting it done in secret." <<include "thenoblewoman6bows">>

Lavinet's expression shutters. "I see. Well, I suppose that can't be helped." "How are we supposed to get this done in secret?" Ayla asks then, trampling over the awkwardness with her signature blunt manner. <<include "thenoblewoman6bows">>

Lavinet arches a brow. "I asked for your help in this matter," she says coolly. "And for your guidance and intervention in settling it. I would not consider it 'settled' until we've reached an accord with the Elder Council and have prevented a massacre on both sides of the aisle." <<nobr>><<if $cunning gte 65>> "You should have specified that, then," you argue. "Otherwise you could simply keep us on the hook indefinitely, running your many errands for you with a set fee hanging over our heads. We've already uncovered the mystery behind these attacks, fended off an invasion in your very estate, and helped you interrogate an Elemental prisoner—whom you wouldn't have captured without our help. As far as I can see it, we've fulfilled our duties, and having us be your mediator is beyond the scope of what you asked, and what we were deployed for. We need more payment, Lady Naveen." <br><br> It's fudging the truth only slightly—your mission orders were something to the effect of staying long enough to resolve the matter and keep the peace—but Lavinet doesn't need to know that. Her lips press into a thin, steely line. <br><br> "Fine," she says tightly, after a moment. "You may speak with my bookkeepers at your leisure. They shall draw up a new contract and transfer an additional amount of gold to your Order. Your superiors may decide how to divvy up the surplus." <br><br> You nod, satisfied with this turn of events. Briony looks uncomfortable, while Ayla nods tightly and Tallys's face remains unreadable. <br><br> "We still need to address our methods in holding these investigations," the Elf says after a moment. "How do we plan to carry such proceedings in secret?" <<else>> "That's not what you said in your letter," you fire back. <br><br> Lavinet tilts her head, giving you a tight-lipped smile that looks like the macabre grin of a skull. "We can have a solicitor take a look," she coos in sweet tones. "I'm sure this matter would be very quick to settle then." <br><br> You instantly back down. Blade or Riel would have an absolute conniption if they found out you were risking legal trouble by trying to finesse your client of more money. <br><br> Lavinet turns away, and after a beat of embarrassed silence, Briony says, "So what now?" <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "thenoblewoman6bows">>

The noblewoman bows her head. "We could sneak out, when the time comes to meet the Elder Council," she says after a moment, her voice sounding very weary. "It will be difficult, but I can keep the servants quiet long enough that my father won't realize we're gone until it's too late." "That sounds like a wonderful idea," Tallys comments sardonically. "He definitely won't leap to conclusions after finding you've been spirited away from your bed by the four Diminished banshees, directly after a night of being terrorized and attacked by a supernatural enemy who wanted to kidnap you." Lavinet stiffens slightly. "What better options do we have?" she challenges. <<include "sneakout">>

<ul class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("areyou6sure")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"Are you sure we can\'t just tell your father directly?"</div>' 'areyou6sure'>><<setcourage +1>><<setcunning -1>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($specialization is "shifter" and $arcane gte 60) or ($arcane gte 70 and $magic gte 70)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"We could use Shifting magic to transform other people into our own forms and guises. They would have to be skilled at tricking others, but it would mean your father wouldn\'t know you were gone until you were back."</div>' 'wecould6transforminto'>><<set $lavisneakout to "shift">><<setarcane +3>><<setmagic +1>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">"We could use Shifting magic to transform other people into our own forms and guises. They would have to be skilled at tricking others, but it would mean your father wouldn\'t know you were gone until you were back."</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($specialization is "enchanter" and $psionic gte 60) or ($psionic gte 70 and $magic gte 70)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"We could trap everyone with the illusion that we\'re still here. It will be a strain to Enchant so many people, but they\'ll be oblivious until we return."</div>' 'wecould6trapeveryone'>><<set $lavisneakout to "enchant">><<setpsionic +3>><<setmagic +1>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">"We could trap everyone with the illusion that we\'re still here. It will be a strain to Enchant so many people, but they\'ll be oblivious until we return."</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($specialization is "binder" and $arcane gte 60) or ($arcane gte 70 and $magic gte 70)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"We could seal everyone into the estate with Binding magic, so that they can\'t leave. It won\'t fool them, but it will prevent them from following us if the ruse is discovered."</div>' 'wecould6seal'>><<set $lavisneakout to "bind">><<setarcane +3>><<setmagic +1>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">"We could seal everyone into the estate with Binding magic, so that they can\'t leave. It won\'t fool them, but it will prevent them from following us if the ruse is discovered."</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link '"We have no better plan. We pretend we\'re ill or sleeping, sneak out, and pray they find out too late to stop us."' 'wehave6nobetter'>><<set $lavisneakout to "sneak">><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Say nothing. You don\'t approve of going behind Lord Lockwood\'s back. You\'ll follow Lavinet\'s lead, but you\'ll stay as blameless as possible.' 'saynothing6you'>><<setlavinet -5>><<setbriony -5>><<settallys -3>><<setayla -5>><<setcourage -5>><<setcunning +3>><<setcompassionate -3>><<setloyal -8>><</link>></li> </ul>

Lavinet's eyes blaze in her face. "Absolutely not," she breathes. "I know him. He'll only throw a fit, try to keep me inside… he'd go to war with the Elementals before risking me or capitulating on behalf of our people. He can not know. Not until we've had time to establish relations with the Elementals ourselves." "Then what do we do?" Ayla demands. <<include "sneakout">>

Lavinet's eyes brighten. "Truly?" She shakes her head in wonder. "Honestly, magic is such a useful gift. It almost pains my heart to see how…" She sees something in Tallys's face and abruptly changes tack. "We'll need good actors," she muses, "people who would be comfortable being wreathed with magiwhile also deceiving others in their impersonation of us…" "People you can trust," Briony adds. "Do you have many of those?" Lavinet taps her fan against her lips. "I trust the servants," she admits. "The ones who have been with our household all my life. They'd do anything to protect the family, and at least some would go against Father's will to help me. But I'm not sure if I trust their acting abilities." "You could always just pretend you're ill," Briony says, chewing her lip. "We all will. Then they can just shut themselves in our rooms, and that'll reduce interaction with others and buy us some time." Lavinet sighs. "Perhaps. Though all four of us staying in bed might rouse suspicion, in and of itself." She begins to pace. "Other nobles, of course, would be better—dare I say impeccable—at impersonating us. Their everyday lives involve playacting, lying, deception. The consequences they would face would be lesser, too, should they be caught. But there are few I trust so implicitly—and that is a heavy debt to owe. The few friends I believe would never hold it against us would be the ones I would bring to the summit itself." She turns to you, looking uneasy. "Do you have an idea of which would be better to use in our scheme, <<c firstname>>?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Use the servants." They may be caught faster, but at least you can trust them.' 'usethe6servants'>><<set $lavisneakout to "shiftservants">><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Use other nobles." They might actually succeed in fooling everyone, and you can worry about anything else later.' 'useother6nobles'>><<set $lavisneakout to "shiftnobles">><</link>></li> </ul>

<<nobr>><<if $cunning gte 65>> "I can give them some tips to keep the ruse going longer," you add. Your own skills and talent in deception and resourcefulness should help you in that regard. <<else>> Ayla makes the sign of the gods. "And gods help us if they get caught right away." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "youturn6to">>

<<nobr>><<if $nobles gte 70>> "And I can talk to the ones you pick," you add. You've probably built up enough rapport and respect among the nobles that you can persuade them to go along with this without doing anything to gum up the works—including taking advantage of Lavinet in the future. <<else>> Tallys makes the sign of the gods, muttering a prayer. <<if $heritage is "Elf">> You catch a snatch of Elvish that sounds like, "…<i>and strike down fools so that we do not have to suffer them</i>." <</if>> <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "youturn6to">>

Lavinet's eyes widen, and she looks uneasy. "Trap them in an illusion?" she echoes. "Will that harm them?" You shake your head. "Not at all. It's like being caught in a dream. You don't know you're asleep—it feels like real life to you—but it can't do anything to you. They'll simply be under the impression that we're around, without feeling the need to investigate too deeply. Harmless." "Will you be all right, though, <<c firstname>>?" Briony asks anxiously. "Creating an estate-wide enchantment and sustaining it while we're away will take a <i>lot</i> of work and energy." Lavinet turns to you. "We wouldn't want you passing out in the middle of the negotiations," she says, her brow furrowing. "Is there anything that could heighten our chances of success?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I\'ll rely on my physical strength and stamina to keep the enchantment going."' 'illrely6on'>><<set $lavisneakout to "enchantstrength">><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'ll rely on my cunning and resourcefulness to parcel out my energy more efficiently."' 'ill6relycunning'>><<set $lavisneakout to "enchantcunning">><</link>></li> </ul>

Briony looks doubtful, but she merely nods. "If you say so." <<include "youturn6to">>

Lavinet's eyes widen. "That's a risky plan," she breathes. "My father will not take kindly to discovering you've trapped him in his own estate. There may be a panic." You shrug. "Only if they figure it out." "Why wouldn't they?" she exclaims. "Someone's going to need to leave the grounds at some point: there are hundreds of people living here! They're going to know if they're prevented from leaving." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Well, then, I\'ll keep them in the estate with sheer strength of will. We can deal with the fallout later."' 'wellthen6ill'>><<set $lavisneakout to "bindcourage">><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Well, then, I\'ll only focus on the ones I absolutely need to keep in place. With my wits, I can manipulate the spell so that servants are \'tagged\' as free to leave."' 'wellthen6focus'>><<set $lavisneakout to "bindcunning">><</link>></li> </ul>

Lavinet grimaces. "I suppose we have no other choice," she admits. <<include "youturn6to">>

It will arouse less suspicion, since the nobles and Lord Lockwood aren't likely to stray from the estate anytime soon… and if the servants are free to come and go, no one should be the wiser. But it's also risky if they discover they <i>can</i> send servants out past your boundary: it heightens the chances that they'll find some way to break it. But it's the best you can do to prolong the deception. <<include "youturn6to">>

She sighs. "I agree. It's the best we can do, given the circumstances." <<include "youturn6to">>

When you say nothing, Lavinet sighs again. "It seems we have no other choice, then. We'll pretend we're sleeping, sneak out, and pray they find out too late to stop us." <<include "youturn6to">>

You turn to the aristocrat just as she squares her shoulders and begins to stride off the balcony. "Where are you going?" Lavinet doesn't glance at you; the air smells like jasmine as she brushes past. In the distance, the sky is beginning to turn milky and light. "I'm going to deliver our message to the Wind Sprites," she says crisply. "And then I'm going to read through our archives, see if I can uncover anything else that will prove useful in the talks to come." Briony makes to grab her wrist. "Lavinet! You're exhausted—you need to try and rest—" Lavinet shakes her hand free with a brittle little laugh. "Haven't you heard, darling?" she asks. She flashes you a sharp, glittering, dagger-like smile. "It's the way of the world around here; I'm used to it. As the saying goes in the Sun Court... There is no rest for the wicked." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "youturn6toi">><</link>></center>

<<set $clothes to "the crisp, black-and-silver-threaded uniform of the Shepherds, the rampant hound shining proudly on your chest">>Dawn breaks, and the sky quickly turns into a strange, eerie yellow and blue, like the prelude to a summer storm. Only it's the middle of winter still, and the air feels charged and unnatural. Heavy clouds begin to gather on the horizon, their bellies lit by ponderous fire. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "youturn6toiii">><</link>></center>

A cold, searing wind bites into you, and Ayla unleashes such a colorful stream of curses and oaths that Clara, riding beside her, takes on an expression that implies she just watched the Wind-Mage kill a cat. Briony, on her ahfuri, rubs her arms, shivering and sniffling in the icy wind. "They're doing this on purpose," she moans pitifully. "They knew we were meeting, and they couldn't have bothered to make it nice and sunny? Gods, I'm going to be so paranoid about everything from now on—<i>anything</i> could be an Elemental, you know? Like when you bathe in rivers while out in the field for a mission—is some Undine or whatever just going to be spying on you while you're naked? And oh gods, the <i>latrines</i>—" At the front of the procession, Tallys and Lavinet ride dead-silent. You're all wearing heavy, furred cloaks provided by the estate's seamstress, but that does nothing to alleviate the chill in the air. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Hold your silence, too. You want to concentrate on the meeting ahead.' 'youreriding6inslow'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Shush Ayla and Briony. They\'re making a racket.' 'shushayla6and'>><<setayla -3>><<setbriony -3>><<settallys +3>><<setlavinet +3>><<setloyal +5>><<setcharisma -3>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Call up to Tallys and Lavinet. "Are you two all right?"' 'callup6to'>><<settallys +3>><<setlavinet +3>><<if $tallysromanceflag gte 10>><<set $tallysromanceflag += 1>><</if>><<if $lavinetromanceflag gte 5>><<set $lavinetromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Address the other nobles in the party. "Are you doing all right?"' 'addressthe6nobles'>><<setcharisma +1>><<set $nobles += 5>><</link>></li> <<if $specialization is "elementalist" or $astral gte 50>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Use Elemental magic to warm the air around you.</div>' 'useelemental6magicwarm'>><<setcompassionate +3>><<setmagic +1>><<setastral +1>><<setbriony +2>><<setayla +2>><<if $brionyromanceflag gte 7>><<set $brionyromanceflag += 1>><</if>><<if $aylaromanceflag gte 7>><<set $aylaromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Use Elemental magic to warm the air around you.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($specialization is "elementalist" and $astral gte 65) and $magic gte 72>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Use Elemental magic to clear the sky and let the sun in. The Elementals aren\'t the only ones who can influence the weather.</div>' 'useelemental6magicclear'>><<setastral +3>><<setmagic +3>><<setcompassionate +3>><<setbriony +3>><<setayla +3>><<set $nobles += 5>><<if $brionyromanceflag gte 7>><<set $brionyromanceflag += 1>><</if>><<if $aylaromanceflag gte 7>><<set $aylaromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Use Elemental magic to clear the sky and let the sun in. The Elementals aren\'t the only ones who can influence the weather.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> </ul>

"What the fuck?" Ayla whispers harshly. "Did you just <i>shush</i> us? I'll fucking <i>kill</i>—" "I don't even care," Briony moans, blowing miserably into a peach-colored handkerchief. "My Elven-and-whatever bones are about to freeze, <<c firstname>>, and if I drop dead from hypothermia, I'm coming back to haunt <i>you</i>!" "Does the cold affect you differently than it affects us?" Pendric asks then, his voice perfectly curious and pleasant. "Pendric," she answers, blowing her nose again, "you are very kind, but please read a book or something." <<include "youreriding6inslow">>

"Fine." Tallys's voice drifts back towards you on the wind. <<nobr>><<if $tallyssex is true or $tallysromance is true>> Then she glances back and shoots you a small, reassuring smile, her gaze briefly softening. "We're just fine, <i>el</i>—<<c rank>>. Just… deep in thought, that's all." <<elseif $tallys gte 65>> She glances back at you and nods reassuringly. "We're just thinking, that's all." <</if>><</nobr>> Lavinet nods in agreement, and from back here, you're just going to have to trust that they haven't been fighting. <<include "youreriding6inslow">>

Pendric, sitting astride his horse beside you, gives you a wan smile. "I find the cold bracing, actually," he says genially, the icy wind ruffling his black hair. "How are you, my love?" This he addresses to Clara, who retreats further into her heavy cloak. "I'm fine," she says, giving him a reassuring smile even though her lips are pale and trembling. "Hopefully the Elder Council will have shelter, to get us out of this wind." "One would hope," the last noble in your party, Lady Dianthe Summerfield, drawls. She clings a large-brimmed hat against her head with fur-gloved hands, huffing whenever the wind threatens to blow the hat away. She's the big variable in this equation: while Pendric, the son of a wealthy mercantile family, is here to lend his economic expertise to the negotiations, and Clara, Lavinet's trusted lady-in-waiting, is also an expert on Lockwood's various fiscal and bureaucratic needs (while Lavinet handles the more political side of things)—you're not sure what Lady Summerfield is going to contribute beyond simply being present. All you know is that Clara can't fight, Pendric is decent with a saber, and Lady Summerfield claims she can shoot a pigeon out of the sky with her dueling pistols. From her ridiculous hat, though, she seems to have gotten the impression that she's been invited to an outdoor picnic or winter tea. "But knowing who we're dealing with, it seems likely that we'll be expected to squat in the field, or perhaps perch ourselves on some <i>logs</i>." Pendric gives her a winning smile. "That wouldn't be so bad, would it, Lady Summerfield? You're always saying you'd like to go somewhere more rustic." "By 'rustic,' I meant visiting some sort of hunting lodge in the North," Lady Summerfield answers tartly. "Not charging straight into the heart of enemy territory occupied by… talking boulders. Lavinet, darling, have I impressed upon you just how livid my husband will be if you get me killed during this jaunty scheme?" Lavinet doesn't look back. "You've said, my dear." Lady Summerfield fans herself, despite the cold, her wrist flicking expressively this way and that. "Just in case you forgot." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "youreriding6inslow">><</link>></center>

You concentrate, pulling the energy in the air in a kind of loose spiral until it warms—sort of like stirring steaming tea into cool milk with your mind. Briony gasps suddenly; Ayla's head whips around to stare at you. "You did that?" Briony asks with delight. "Oh, <<c firstname>>, you're a <i>lifesaver</i>—I could kiss you—" "Pretty impressive," Ayla concedes with a rare, admiring smile on her face. "That's good stuff. Even I can't work the air like that." Pendric looks around in apparent bafflement. "Did something happen?" The three of you look away with secret smirks. <<include "youreriding6inslow">>

<<nobr>><<if $charisma gte 60>> You concentrate, and though it takes some wind out of your sails—you chuckle and congratulate yourself on the pun—you feel the clouds above you beginning to shift and stir, like the movement of tectonic plates. <<else>> You concentrate, and though it takes some wind out of your sails—<<print $god>>, you hate yourself for making that pun—you feel the clouds above you beginning to shift and stir, like the movement of tectonic plates. <</if>><</nobr>> Before long, some of the grayness overhead recedes, and though the clouds don't dissipate completely, the air begins to warm and brighten as sunlight breaks through and falls on your little group. Briony gasps, looking around at you with wide eyes. "Did you do that?" she whispers. Ayla is staring at you, too, looking almost awed. "Since when did you become a Weather-Mage?" she demands. "No, don't answer that, you'll make feel even more inferior than I already do." She grins at you a little. "Nice job." Pendric is looking around in apparent bafflement. "What happened?" he asks, oblivious to the fact that the change in weather stems from you. "What did <<c rank>> <<c surname>> do?" <<nobr>> <<if $aylaromanceflag gte 8>> "<<c she>> manipulated the weather, that's what," Ayla says proudly. "How's <i>that</i> for power, huh?" <br><br> <<include "youreriding6inslow">> <<elseif $brionyromanceflag gte 10 or ($highestromance is "briony" and $brionyromanceflag gte 8)>> Briony looks away, for some reason fighting a blush. "It's, er, nothing," she squeaks. "Just ignore us!" <br><br> <<include "youreriding6inslow">> <<else>> "Just forget it," Ayla tells him. <br><br> His brow furrows. "Was it the Elementals?" <br><br> She looks vaguely pitying. "You're dumber than a box of hair, aren't you?" <br><br> "Oh. That's a bit rude, isn't it?" <br><br> "You haven't been paying attention to who I am, champ." <br><br> <<include "youreriding6inslow">> <</if>><</nobr>>

You're riding in a slow, steady promenade towards the meeting place the Elder Council directed you to through their Wind Sprite messengers. Lavinet tells you that it's some sort of old basin called Westin's Field, unpopulated and generally featureless except for its tendency to crop up valuable mushrooms in the fall. Frost crackles underfoot as your ahfuri try to match the slower pace of the horses in your party, though the snow-bare ground begins to turn muddy and full of slush nonetheless. Despite it being the dead of winter, there isn't a speck of pristine white to be seen: just dead brown grass and ugly, melting hoarfrost. Tallys mutters that it can't be good tidings for your negotiations—that they'll be as just of a mess as the landscape around you. You can't tell if that's superstition or premonition, so you hold your tongue. Despite the bleak surroundings, Lavinet is decked out in full formal battle regalia, replete with her heavy lance on one arm and an army saber buckled near the other. She's wearing a broad riding skirt and an armored chest-piece over her blouse as she sits astride her powerful war stallion, looking the picture of a lady-knight of antiquity—and her companions are outfitted similarly, though they don't quite embody Lavinet's austere strength. Clara and Pendric are in your party, of course, as Lavinet's trusted friends and advisors. Lady Summerfield rounds out the party: apparently she's gained the trust of the other nobles as someone neutral enough to report back with a true account of these events, and to serve as another third-party witness to the proceedings. Although she is actually a close friend of Lavinet's, publicly they've been careful to distance themselves enough that their relationship seems like it could go either way: exactly the kind of ambassador that even Auberon and Isolde would be forced to accept. Nobles plan many steps ahead of their enemies, it seems, and even can outmaneuver their other allies from time to time. Behind you all, Angant Hainn floats in a kind of whirling cocoon made out of the wind and air: Ayla's doing, and something she insists even Air Elementals won't be able to break her hold on. <<nobr>><<if $angant gte 30>> He readily agreed to serve as your prisoner, and to the confinement, waiting sedately as Ayla's wind-bindings paralyzed him from head to toe, keeping him floating behind you like a trailing balloon. He has been completely silent throughout your journey thus far, and since you left strict orders for the staff back home to avoid going near his cell—"to prevent any chance of his escape"—you don't think his presence here will cause any trouble. In fact, he seems downright eager to comply with you now that he knows peace talks might be on the table. <<else>> It's an unnerving sight, having a Flameling dangling insensate in the air behind you, his limb body floating after you like a trailing balloon. But he was not cooperative when you tried to sneak him out of his cell, furiously exclaiming that he could not be dishonored by being seen as a captive by his people, and in the end, Briony had had to knock him out while Ayla bound him head-to-toe in what she calls her "wind chains." You can only hope the Elder Council won't be too displeased to find you manhandling your prisoner this way. And that the Flameling doesn't wake up before you've gotten to your destination. <</if>><</nobr>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "you6check">><</link>></center>

You check your timepiece, then glance behind you at the empty, barren landscape. So far, Lord Lockwood hasn't sent any platoons of guards galloping after you, which you can only hope means your cover is still holding up. <<nobr>><<if $lavisneakout is "shiftservants">> You worked your Shifting magic earlier this morning, transforming the eight servants that Lavinet hand-picked into impeccable duplicates of your party. <<if $cunning gte 65>> Even their voices sounded authentic. You had them shut themselves up in your rooms, feigning tiredness from the night before, and you gave them some tips on how to strengthen the deception. They were definitely anxious, but if they can just avoid people like Lavinet's father for a few hours, the ruse should work well enough. <<else>> Their voices needed some work, but there was no time to worry about that. You had them shut themselves up in your rooms, feigning tiredness from the night before. Hopefully they can avoid people like Lavinet's father long enough to keep the lie going and buy you some time. <</if>> <<elseif $lavisneakout is "shiftnobles">> You worked your Shifting magic earlier this morning, transforming eight nobles hand-picked by Lavinet into perfect replicas of your party. <<if $nobles gte 70>> They were all very excited to be taking part in such a "thrilling scheme," as they kept putting it—in fact, the hardest thing about the whole charade was just getting them to calm down long enough to listen to your instructions. Once they settled into their roles, though, they were able to emulate you almost exactly—certainly long enough to fool Lord Lockwood and the others with some avoidance and stalling. Lavinet is still a bit nervous about what she'll have to do in order to repay them for this favor down the road, but you had a talk with them. Even aristocrats are willing to set aside their petty schemes for the sake of the greater good… sometimes. Especially when the Hero of Haven asks them nicely. <<else>> They were all very excited to be taking part in such a "thrilling scheme," as they kept putting it—in fact, the hardest thing about the whole charade was just getting them to calm down long enough to listen to your instructions. They were quite good at imitating you, too, putting their acting skills to good use… though you noticed one or two had eyes that gleamed with a suspicious kind of mirth when they examined their—your—reflections in the mirror. You just have to hope that Lavinet has found people you can rely on. You don't want to think about untrustworthy characters running around with your face right now. <</if>> <<elseif $lavisneakout is "enchantstrength">> You worked your Enchanting magic earlier this morning, weaving a tight web around the entire estate and trapping it in a powerful illusion—one where you are all happily in your rooms, and no one feels the inclination to question that or interact with you more than in passing. <br><br> It's possibly more magic than you've ever tried, bespelling hundreds of people at once and sustaining the enchantment from far away. You feel the constant drain on your magic like a dull tugging on your brain, the way your muscles burn and ache after a sprint and you need to gulp in more air. <<if $strength gte 70>> However, you think—you hope—you have enough stamina and physical constitution to power through and keep the illusion going as long as possible. <<else>> You hope your body will hold up under the strain. It seems to be going okay so far. The nosebleeds probably don't mean anything. <</if>> <<elseif $lavisneakout is "enchantcunning">> You worked your Enchanting magic earlier this morning, weaving a loose web around the entire estate and trapping it in a cunning illusion, one where you are all happily in your rooms, and no one feels the inclination to question that or interact with you more than in passing. <br><br> It's possibly more magic than you've ever tried, bespelling hundreds of people at once and sustaining the enchantment from far away. You feel the constant drain on your magic like a dull tugging on your brain, the way your muscles burn and ache after a sprint and you need to gulp in more air. <br><br> <<if $cunning gte 65>> However, you made it easier for yourself by keeping strict caps on your energy. Like slowly releasing the valve of a steam pipe in increments rather than all at once, you can conserve your magical power while still feeding exactly enough of it back to the illusion to maintain its integrity. Efficiency at its finest. <<else>> However, you've tried to make it easier for yourself by keeping caps on your energy. Like slowly releasing the valve of a steam pipe in increments rather than all at once, you can try and conserve your magical power while still feeding exactly enough of it back to the spell to ensure it holds up to the strain of things. You hope, anyway. If you lose focus or feed back too little power, the enchantment may slip and falter. <</if>> <<elseif $lavisneakout is "bindcourage">> You worked your Binding magic this morning, sealing the residents of the estate into the grounds so that they have no chance of leaving and pursuing you. It's like an invisible barrier, almost similar to the one that kept you in the gladiators' arena, but without the painful brands. If you're extraordinarily lucky, maybe no one will need to leave the estate while you're gone, therefore not noticing the boundary at all. If not, however, you'll just have to hold the spell against their attempts to break through—all while maintaining concentration on the proceedings ahead. <br><br> <<if $courage gte 65>> You think your willpower and courage will be enough to hold the spell in place: you are extremely resilient and willful, and it will take a lot to break a grip like yours. <<else>> You hope your willpower and courage will be enough to hold the spell in place: you're pretty resilient and strong-willed, but if Lord Lockwood hauls out a cannon, you're not sure the binding spell won't buckle. You send up a prayer that that won't happen. <</if>> <<elseif $lavisneakout is "bindcunning">> You worked your Binding magic this morning, sealing the residents of the estate into the grounds so that they have no chance of leaving to pursue you. It's like an invisible barrier—or, more accurately, an invisible net. The spell recognizes servants and the like, allowing them to slip through the barrier like it's a sieve, utilizing less power on your end and allowing them to go about their days without noticing the magical wall you've embedded around their estate. Hopefully, this will make your chances of being detected far less obvious, since it's unlikely that Lord Lockwood and the others are keen to leave the grounds and thereby run into the barrier themselves. Not right now; not after such a dangerous, nerve-wracking night. That's the hope, anyway. <br><br> <<if $cunning gte 65>> It was dreadfully difficult and complicated to weave such a complex spell, but it will be worth it if it can buy you time and keep the deception running as long as possible. Your resourcefulness and ability to handle things delicately and subtly should definitely help you out here. <<else>> It was dreadfully difficult and complicated to weave such a complex spell, and the slightest miscalculation or coincidence could send it all tumbling down. But for now, it was the best you could do. <</if>> <<else>> You begged off any meetings Lord Lockwood or the other nobles might have asked for, complaining of magical exhaustion from the fight the night before. The residents of the Lockwood estate know so little about Diminished and supernatural powers that they pretty much just accepted this as truth, and hopefully they'll leave you—or more accurately, your empty room—alone as you "recover in private" until the evening or late afternoon. Lavinet's absence was harder to explain, but since she was one of the primary fighters in last night's battle as well, she's been afforded a certain leeway and time to rest. You just hope that's good enough. It all depends on the strength of your lies, now. <</if>><</nobr>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "upahead6you">><<if $lavisneakout is "shiftservants">><<if $cunning gte 65>><<set $rusesucceed to true>><<setcunning +10>><<setarcane +3>><<setmagic +1>><<else>><<setcunning -10>><</if>><<elseif $lavisneakout is "shiftnobles">><<if $nobles gte 70>><<setcunning +10>><<set $nobles += 5>><<setreputation +3>><<setmagic +1>><<setarcane +3>><<set $rusesucceed to true>><<else>><<setcunning -10>><<setreputation -5>><</if>><<elseif $lavisneakout is "enchantstrength">><<if $strength gte 70>><<setstrength +3>><<setpsionic +3>><<setmagic +1>><<set $rusesucceed to true>><<else>><<setstrength -3>><</if>><<elseif $lavisneakout is "enchantcunning">><<if $cunning gte 65>><<setcunning +10>><<setpsionic +3>><<setmagic +1>><<set $rusesucceed to true>><<else>><<setcunning -3>><</if>><<elseif $lavisneakout is "bindcourage">><<if $courage gte 65>><<setcourage +5>><<setarcane +3>><<setmagic +1>><<set $rusesucceed to true>><<else>><<setcourage -3>><</if>><<elseif $lavisneakout is "bindcunning">><<if $cunning gte 65>><<setarcane +3>><<setmagic +1>><<setcunning +10>><<set $rusesucceed to true>><<else>><<setcunning -3>><</if>><<else>><<if $cunning gte 66>><<set $rusesucceed to true>><<setcunning +10>><<else>><<setcunning -10>><</if>><</if>><</link>></center>

Up ahead, you see Tallys stop abruptly and reach for her bow. Lavinet readies her lance, her war stallion Avonis pawing at the ground as if preparing to charge. The other three nobles still, Pendric putting a hand to his own saber, and Briony sits forward in her saddle and cranes her neck. "What is it?" she whispers to Ayla, who sniffs the air. "<i>They're here</i>." You're not sure who says it, because you're too focused on the tree that's suddenly appeared in the middle of the thin, muddy road. Only it's not a tree, not really—but a <i>person</i>, one of the Hill Folk in the shape of a spindly, svelte tree trunk with clusters of red holly berries for eyes and a fringe of browned leaves on their head. Now that you have the time to actually look at them, outside the heat of battle, you see how this one carries a crude and knotted bow over their shoulder, and how lichen and moss cover their body like cloth and armor. <<nobr>><<if $intelligence gte 60>> Fascinating. <<else>> How strange. <</if>><</nobr>> The tree person doesn't speak to you; they only turn and stump away, through a copse of thin-trunked silver trees to your right. Everyone in the group looks to Lavinet. "That's the direction of Westin's Field," she says after a moment, sounding tense. "I suppose they've sent an envoy to greet us." Pendric turns to you, his richly-gloved hand tight on the hilt of his sword. "Should we follow, <<c firstname>>?" So far, Lavinet has deferred to you on all matters of security and combat. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"We\'ll follow, but stay sharp."' 'wellfollow6but'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"We\'ll follow, but draw our weapons to show that we\'re not to be trifled with."' 'wellfollow6draw'>><<setcourage +1>><<setcharisma -1>><<setcompassionate -1>><<set $eldercouncil -= 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Call after the tree person. "Excuse me? Are you taking us to the Elder Council?"' 'callafter6the'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> <<if $angant gte 30>><<link '<div class="choice-item">You turn to Angant Hainn. "Is this safe?"</div>' 'youturn6angant'>><<set $angant += 10>><<set $eldercouncil += 1>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">You turn to Angant Hainn. "Is this safe?"</div>'>><</link>><</if>> </ul>

"At the first sign of trouble, we bolt," you say. Pendric nods, wary, while Clara lifts her trembling chin. Lavinet reaches over to pat her lady-in-waiting's knee. "Don't worry," she says softly. "They won't try anything, not after <<c rank>> <<c surname>> and the others trounced them. And if they do, I'll protect you. With my life, if need be." "I don't doubt it, milady," Clara says softly, her eyes downcast and reverent. Lady Summerfield rolls her eyes. <<include "youfollowtree">>

"As long as you think it won't provoke them," Lavinet murmurs, drawing her saber with one clear sound. Briony draws Gonturan, Tallys nocks her bow, and Ayla raises her wind-staff like it's a bat. "Let us go, then." <<include "youfollowtree">>

<<nobr>><<if $angant gte 30>> The tree person pauses, then turns back, staring quizzically at Angant Hainn. After a moment, they say, their voice very rustling and hard to make out: "My liege, the Holly King, awaits your presence." <br><br> You also glance to Angant Hainn, still suspended in his wind-cocoon, and he nods. "The Holly King is very formal," he says. "And his guards are all around you. It is the normal way of things. You have nothing to fear." <br><br> "You know what happened when the moth trusted the flame?" Ayla asks in an undertone. "It got its ass burned." <br><br> Lavinet sighs. "I don't see how we have a choice. Let's go, before it—she—gets tired of waiting." <<else>> The tree person pauses, looking back at you for a moment. Then they stare at Angant Hainn's limp, suspended body and turn away, slipping back between the trees without saying a word. <br><br> "Don't like that," Ayla mutters, nudging her ahfuri after the creature. "Nope. Don't like that at all." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "youfollowtree">>

He nods. "She's an envoy of the Holly King," he says. "The Holly King is extremely formal, bound up by old rituals. His guards are all around you. It is the normal way of things. You have nothing to fear." "You know what happened when the moth trusted the flame?" Ayla asks in an undertone. "It got its ass burned." Lavinet sighs. "I don't see how we have a choice. Let's go, before it—she—gets tired of waiting." <<include "youfollowtree">>

<<nobr>><<if settings.music is true>><<audio ":playing" fadeout>><<audio "elementals" volume 0.1 play>><</if>><</nobr>> You follow the tree messenger through the copse until you reach a large field—more like a basin where a large pond might have dried up, or a dust bowl—lying beneath the open sky, edged all around by trees. You immediately sense a change in atmosphere as you break the treeline and proceed into the scrubby field: the air here feels calmer, stiller, and even sound becomes muted and soft. At the edges of your vision, you see the surrounding grove milling with near-invisible life. Eddies of wind dance and stir like mirages at your periphery; shadows and rocks seem to shift when you're not looking directly at them, and leaves flutter and occasional lights grow and flicker to nothing. It seems you have an audience. You wonder how many Elementals are here, watching the proceedings but keeping well away from their epicenter, preferring to conceal their presence in the forest all around you instead. At the center of the indented basin is a huge, circular stone slab at least the length of ten people. Seated at the stone table are four figures, whom you assume are the Elder Elemental rulers. There's a very tall, broad-shouldered Flameling with a hint of green to his orange and yellow flames; a twelve-foot-tall man with the form of a holly tree, his shrewd, moss-bearded face peering out from its gnarled trunk and a crown of berries and flowers resting in his hair; a twisting, serpentine shape of water floating curiously in the air; and an unreadable wind warrior with twin translucent blades sheathed at their back. <<nobr>><<if $angant lt 30>> <br><br> Angant Hainn has woken up, though he remains quiet as his wind-chrysalis finally descends and touches the grass in front of the stone table. <</if>><</nobr>> You dismount and approach the stone table on foot at the behest of the tree envoy you've been following. When you stand before them, the messenger introduces the Elders one-by-one, in a very formal, creaky tone: "Umbris Arcterius, chieftain of the Hunta clan and lord of the Eastern Flamelings." "The Holly King, lord of the evergreen forests and sovereign of the Winter Wheel, and keeper of the Golden Bough." "Anae Asherah Ibai tal'Maris, Argent Regent and lady of the Silver River clans." "Nephele, great guardian and warrior of the Western Wind." Lavinet makes a deep bow, though not as deep as it could be. "It is our honor to meet you under better circumstances, Elders." She makes your introductions, and you feel as if more eyes linger on you than on the others. But perhaps that's simply in your imagination. "—and the Shepherds will be here to serve as third-party mediators," Lavinet finishes, wrapping up the introductions. "As agreed. They have reason to see the perspectives of both sides. Like you, their people are magical in nature—" "We are not," Nephele the wind warrior says, xer voice surprisingly deep and whistling, "magical. We are as natural as the world itself." "—and they have cause to understand Lockwood's perspective, as well, since we called them here. I hope that proves sufficient." Anae, the apparent leader of the River Undine, makes a wavering, elegant gesture with her watery limb. This close and this still, you can see how her form approximates a human's, the same way a Flameling does, though of course she's made of water rather than of fire. "Please sit." She doesn't give any indication of what she thinks of your presence here. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>You sit.</span></div></div>' "youfollowtreei">><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<if settings.music is true>><<audio ":playing" fadeoverto 20 0>><</if>><</nobr>>An awkward silence befalls you as you sit there at the stone slab, on great stools of rock so tall that your feet dangle, your hands in your lap as you gauge the Elementals across from you. Although they're called "Elders," there's no true way to gauge their age except by their vastness: Umbris Arcterius, the Flameling leader, stands a good head and a half over Angant Hainn, who looks like a puppy beside a great wolf in comparison. His heat and fire licks at you even from across the broad width of the table. The Holly King, with his noble wooden face, is hard to read, but the golden eyes that peer at you from the creases in his trunk are old and calculating. Anae, the Undine leader, is in ceaseless motion, the tendrils of her liquid limbs curling and uncurling over the table like tentacles. Only the wind guardian, Nephele, is truly unreadable, little more than a person-shaped current whipping around in the air, hard to perceive except from the corners of your vision. It hits you then how bizarre this all is: you are partaking in a meeting with beings who were supposed to have gone extinct eight hundred years ago. It's like holding negotiations with ghosts. Finally, it's the Holly King who speaks. "Angant Hainn of the Aithne Hainn clan has spoken to you," he says flatly. His voice creaks like a tree in a storm, and the scent of crushed pine needles and winter berries wafts over the table to you. "So we need not waste time with preliminary discussions. You understand the situation. You have claimed the Landsmeet. We want it. How do we resolve the situation?" "We do not desire bloodshed," Lady Anae adds, her voice warbling and silvery, and a little kind. "But you understand our plight. The fate of our peoples rests in the Landsmeet." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"But the Landsmeet is gone, and has been gone for hundreds of years. You need to focus on what comes next."' 'butthe6landsmeet'>><<set $eldercouncil -= 1>><<setcharisma -1>><<setcourage +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Do any of the features of the Landsmeet still remain? Have you checked?"' 'doany6ofthe'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"We are sympathetic to your plight. You didn\'t ask for any of this. But neither did the citizens of Lockwood."' 'weare6sympathetic'>><<setcompassionate +3>><<setcharisma +1>><<set $eldercouncil += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Leave this to Lavinet.' 'youfollowtreeii'>><<setlavinet +3>><<if $gender is "male">><<set $lavinetromanceflag += 1>><</if>><<setloyal +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

The Flameling, Umbris Arcterius, flares—actually flares, so that you feel as if someone threw a flash grenade in front of you. "There is no <i>next</i>," he rumbles. Somewhere behind you, Angant Hainn shifts nervously, obviously cowed by this display of anger from his leader. "The Landsmeet is <i>everything</i>. We convened there, we parlayed and discussed matters of governance there…" Lady Summerfield looks around sardonically. "This field seems just as fine a place to meet as any, doesn't it? You have such lovely furniture here." Lavinet looks like she could slap her. Umbris's face is abruptly unreadable. "We cannot create our young here," he says softly, with venom. "We cannot remake ourselves, or bring back our dead here." <<include "youfollowtreeii">>

If the Elementals could send invisible Wind Sprites to spy on you or on Lavinet's family and town, then surely they've scouted the land to see if it still has what they require. The Holly King doesn't speak, but you feel a sudden ancient anger emanating from him. Nephele, the wind warrior, booms: "Of course we have checked. We have found nothing of the sacred sites. But perhaps underground…" "Underground?" This is from Clara, who raises her chin when the Elementals stare at her, clearly surprised that one of Lavinet's retainers is speaking. "How extensively would you need to check, to be sure?" Lady Anae gestures vaguely, her hand dripping wetly all over the stone table. "Very extensively," she says, her voice mild. "We would need to tunnel…" Clara glances at Pendric, who nods; she says, "I'm not sure how possible that would be. There are many homes in Lockwood. Tunneling would destroy many of those homes, and even then it would only be for a stray chance." "<i>Your</i> homes can be replaced," Umbris Arcterius growls. "Ours cannot." <<include "youfollowtreeii">>

The Elders are silent for a moment. Finally Nephele concedes, "I suppose that is true." "You must forgive us," Lady Anae says in her soft voice then. "The world has changed. When we went to our long slumber, this land was still wild… and the Norms were ignorant and brutish, barbarians warring constantly with each other's clans in petty feuds. We didn't realize…" "Didn't realize that we were people?" Lady Summerfield asks brightly. "People with our own lives, thoughts, and feelings? How lovely." "To be fair," Pendric mutters, "it isn't that different from how our people now treat the Diminished." You shoot them both a look, and they fall silent. <<include "youfollowtreeii">>

Lavinet bows her head, considering. "We are glad that you aim for peaceful resolution," she says finally. "As do we. And we thank you for avoiding the deaths of our people, at least the best you could. I understand… how easy it could have been for you, to simply begin killing them on sight. They would have never seen you coming. Your restraint in that matter is appreciated." Although you sense how carefully she's wording it—there are some hidden barbs to her words, you can tell—her response clearly throws the Elder Council. The Holly King and Umbris Arcterius frown, while Lady Anae inclines her head, almost in a contrite, shamed manner. Nephele remains unreadable, as always. "We regret the damage we have caused," the Holly King says after a moment, all of his twigs cracking in rebuke when Umbris Arcterius folds his arms and leans back, looking distinctly unrepentant. "Had we known your people were amenable to such discussions beforehand, perhaps we would have taken the risk to approach you first. But when we first emerged from the <i>akala</i>, we sent out our watchers and found a world that escaped comprehension. The Norm people have spread across every land like a wildfire." "You insult us, King," Umbris Arcterius warns. The Holly King ignores him. "There are now weapons that shoot iron and smoke, machines that upturn the earth and eat it. Many Children of Light are nowhere to be found, and the ones that have remained are weakened, shackled. Few use magic. We even saw your Norm people executing theirs"—this he says to Tallys, Ayla, Briony, and you"—in a town to the East. When we found that you were occupying the Landsmeet, had build your fortress on top of it… we assumed the worst. From what we saw and knew, we did not know you could be reasoned with." Lavinet's face remains impassive, though Clara's has a look of shame and Pendric sports a pained grimace. You could step in here. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"It\'s a complicated situation, to say the least. There is much you need to catch up on."' 'itsa6complicated'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"The Autarchy, the current Norm government, is evil. They oppress the other Children of Light out of fear that we will rise up against them. It\'s wrong, and you weren\'t foolish to be cautious or even frightened."' 'theautarchy6the'>><<setorder -5>><<setloyal -15>><<setayla +1>><<settallys +1>><<setlavinet -3>><<set $nobles -= 10>><<set $eldercouncil -= 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You may have misinterpreted what you saw in that town. Execution tends to be reserved for criminals and seditionists. Perhaps those you saw were convicted of a terrible crime."' 'youmay6have'>><<setorder +5>><<setloyal +10>><<setayla -3>><<settallys -3>><<setlavinet +3>><<set $nobles += 5>><<set $eldercouncil -= 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Like any people—including your own, I\'m sure—there are good souls and corrupted souls, suffering and privileged, courageous and cowardly. Don\'t judge all Norms, or Diminished, based on the actions of a few."' 'likeany6people'>><<set $eldercouncil += 1>><<setcompassionate +3>><<setcharisma +1>><<setlavinet +3>><<setbriony +1>><<setayla +1>><<set $nobles += 5>><<settallys -2>><<set $tallysharden += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Say nothing at all.' 'youfollowtreeiii'>><<setcharisma -3>><<setlavinet -3>><<set $nobles -= 5>><<setreputation -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

"Indeed," Umbris Arcterius deadpans, looking distinctly unimpressed by your neutral answer. <<include "youfollowtreeiii">>

"And yet," Nephele says, making a complicated figure-eight that seems to indicate a question, "you work for this government, do you not?" Oops. You glance down at your sun medallion. How did they know? Umbris Arcterius scoffs. "Truly, it is a situation that defies reason. You can see how our first instinct was to attack. Not even your own peacekeepers—or whatever you Shepherds are—know what you stand for." "That's not true," you begin, but the Elder Council no longer seems interested in hearing your thoughts on the matter. <<include "youfollowtreeiii">>

"Perhaps," Nephele says in xer whistling, vibrating voice, "but I am surprised to see you cast judgment so quickly. Are you so disloyal to your own kind, that you would defend your enemies and renounce your own kin?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"The Shepherds are my kin."' 'theshepherds6are'>><<setloyal +5>><<setbriony +3>><<set $aylaharden += 1>><<settallys +3>><<setayla +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I am simply giving the benefit of a doubt."' 'iam6simply'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I only look out for myself."' 'ionly6look'>><<set $eldercouncil -= 1>><<setloyal -10>><</link>></li> </ul>

Nephele makes a twisting motion in the air, but says nothing more. <<include "youfollowtreeiii">>

"You could extend that same doubt to those we saw executed," Nephele returns, making an erratic twisting motion in the air. <<include "youfollowtreeiii">>

"So I see," the wind warrior replies, turning to look at the other Elders meaningfully. <<include "youfollowtreeiii">>

"I suppose you're right," the Holly King says grudgingly. "Though we did not have that perspective when we made our plans against Lockwood—and we cannot change the past now. Still, you are right. We should not have made such a sweeping assumption, or leapt to such a general conclusion." Umbris Arcterius still looks skeptical, however. <<include "youfollowtreeiii">>

After a few moments, the conversation resumes again, with Lavinet cutting in smoothly to retake the helm. The two sides are surprisingly matter-of-fact about the whole thing, touching on the topic of potential reparations before going back and forth on solutions of compromise. Pendric, Clara, and Lady Summerfield get over their shell-shock quickly and participate in the discussions with the lively air of aristocrats used to politicking and debate; the Holly King remains reserved, and Umbris Arcterius slightly derogatory, but it seems that Lady Anae and Nephele seem more open to making something between the two sides work. You, Briony, Tallys, and Ayla merely observe the goings-on keenly, stepping in when it looks like things are going to turn heated. It becomes clear after two hours pass, however, that the two sides have ultimately come to an impasse on the matter: there is simply no room for compromise. Lavinet wants her people to stay in Lockwood. The Elementals want to take it so they can try and revive the Landsmeet. They go back and forth on it, but tempers begin to flare as they run up against the same wall, over and over. There is simply no getting around the core issue here. Both sides declare that they cannot give up the area of Lockwood or the Landsmeet. "I'm sorry," Lavinet sighs, leaning back. "But we must find some halfway point. If it were a matter of money—" "We do not use money," Nephele says in acid tones. "What—how do you eat?" "We do not eat." "At least that's one thing you don't need the Landsmeet for," someone mutters. It could have been Ayla or Lady Summerfield, you're not sure. To the Holly King, Lavinet says, "And about an expedition party, I'm not sure I can authorize—" "There is that, too, Lady Naveen," the Holly King interrupts shrewdly. "<i>Are</i> you here with your father's authorization? Or will this all be for naught? Will any plans we make be aborted by the time you return to him, the true lord and master of Lockwood? Are you a proxy, or simply a wayward heir? We do not have much time to waste, if this entire affair is merely for spectacle." Dead silence. Lavinet's eyes narrow. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Lavinet is here with her father\'s full blessing." <b>[LIE]</b>' 'lavinetis6here'>><<setcunning +3>><<set $eldercouncil -= 1>><<set $angant -= 10>><<if $angant lt 30>><<setlavinet -5>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Whatever happens here, Lavinet will be able to enforce, whether her father likes it or not."' 'whateverhappens6here'>><<setcourage +2>><<setlavinet +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You probably misunderstand modern culture, my lord. This is the way of the world, now." <b>[BLUFF]</b>' 'youprobably6misunderstand'>><<setcunning +3>><<setlavinet +3>><<if $cunning gte 70>><<set $eldercouncil += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"We did sneak out, so there isn\'t much she can promise at this point in time."' 'wedid6sneak'>><<setcourage +3>><<setcunning -10>><<setlavinet -10>><<if $lavinetromanceflag gte 5>><<set $lavinetromanceflag -= 5>><</if>><<set $eldercouncil += 1>><</link>></li> <<if $compassionate lt 50>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"No matter what, she is still the lady of Lockwood, and deserving of your esteem. She took a considerable risk to come meet you here, her enemies and assailants against her people. I would advise you to speak to her with more respect, Holly King."</div>' 'nomatter6whatshe'>><<set $angant -= 10>><<set $eldercouncil -= 1>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setcourage +5>><<setlavinet +10>><<if $gender is "male">><<set $lavinetromanceflag += 5>><</if>><<if $aylaromanceflag gte 5>><<set $aylaromanceflag += 1>><</if>><<if $brionyromanceflag gte 5>><<set $brionyromanceflag += 1>><</if>><<if $tallysromanceflag gte 5>><<set $tallysromanceflag += 1>><</if>><<setloyal +1>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">"No matter what, she is still the lady of Lockwood, and deserving of your esteem. She took a considerable risk to come meet you here, her enemies and assailants against her people. I would advise you to speak to her with more respect, Holly King."</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link 'Change the subject. "So, where\'s the Oak King?"' 'changethe6subject'>><<setcharisma +1>><<setcunning +1>><<if $charisma lt 55>><<set $eldercouncil -= 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Let Lavinet handle it.' 'letlavinet6handle'>><<setlavinet +2>><<if $gender is "male">><<set $lavinetromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> </ul>

"Oh?" Nephele sounds innocent. "We had a different impression." <<nobr>><<if $angant lt 30>> <br><br> "That isn't true, my lords," Angant Hainn says it from behind you, stiffly. "We left the estate without her father's permission." <br><br> Damn. You'd forgotten about him. <br><br> Umbris Arcterius stares at you, unreadable. <</if>><</nobr>> Lady Anae looks around. "Let us return to the matter at hand," she says softly. <<include "youfollowtreeiv">>

Umbris Arcterius looks skeptical. "Let us hope that is true." Nephele looks around. "Shall we get back to the topic at hand?" <<include "youfollowtreeiv">>

It's a wild bluff, but it's all you can think of on the fly. Maybe you can use their ignorance about the world to convince them that the power dynamics here aren't as clear-cut as they think. That a daughter sneaking around behind her father's back is how things just… work. All perfectly normal, and nothing that could stand in the way of their plans. None of the Elders speak, so you can only hope that you convinced them to drop the matter. After a moment, Clara says softly, "Shall we get back to the matter at hand?" <<include "youfollowtreeiv">>

"Thank you for your honesty, <<c rank>>," Lady Anae says. Nephele whips around in a small fury. "What is the point of any of this, then?" xe demands. "We barter with a mere proxy, not a leader!" Lavinet's face remains composed, her burgundy eyes shuttered. "I assure you, my lieges," she says softly. "If I had the gumption to sneak out from beneath my father's nose, I have the ability to carry out whatever we agree to here—if anything at all. My courage and willpower are not to be questioned. As such, I would like to have your civility for the risk I took in coming here, if not your outright respect." Nephele falls silent at that, limbs and head thrashing as lashes of furious wind. After an awkward moment, Clara looks around. "Shall we return to the topic at hand?" she asks softly. <<include "youfollowtreeiv">>

Angant Hainn makes a soft hissing sound behind you. "Silence, fool!" he cries. "You address a king who walked the earth before the demons did! He is the keeper of the Golden Bough!" You glance at him, contemptuous. "That means nothing to me, Angant Hainn." Lavinet lifts a hand for silence. "Thank you, <<c rank>> <<c surname>>," she says, her face serious but her eyes glinting with something like gratitude. "I think you've made your point." The Holly King says nothing, but Umbris Arcterius grunts. "Yes. Quite." "Shall we get back to the topic at hand?" Nephele asks then. <<include "youfollowtreeiv">>

<<nobr>><<if $charisma lt 55>> Your tone is bright and cheery and your abrupt change in topic clumsy; the Holly King's face doesn't change, but Umbris Arcterius narrows his burning eyes. <br><br> <</if>><</nobr>> "The Oak King rules during the summer months," Lady Anae says to you softly. "In the old days, he would remain in hibernation while the Holly King ruled. Now, we do not know if he ever rose from the <i>akala</i>, if he's still sleeping, or if he passed away in his slumber. We will not know until the thaw begins to set in. We do not even know if the other races survived—the Sea Undine, the Volta. We will need to find them, too." "Can we return to the topic at hand?" Umbris Arcterius demands then. <<include "youfollowtreeiv">>

"My father and I share rule of Lockwood, my lieges," she says after a moment, her voice smooth and cool. "And, one day soon, I will assume full control of it once he reaches retirement age. So I am the best person to be discussing this matter with. I will be on the throne longer, so to speak, so my opinion matters more than even his does. I assure you that whatever agreements we make here will last." Nephele makes a little fluttering sound, almost like a laugh. "Well met, Lady Naveen," xe says with a tone of approval. "Then let us return to the matter at hand." <<include "youfollowtreeiv">>

Lavinet regards the stone table for a moment, and as she thinks, <<nobr>><<if $intelligence gte 50>> you review the options in your head as well. <<else>> you stare down at the slab, wondering where it came from. Did the Elementals make it, just for this meeting? <</if>><</nobr>> "There is only one resource that each side desires," Lavinet declares after a moment, tapping the table decisively. "The land that Lockwood and all its surrounding outlands occupy. Whether we call it Lockwood or the Landsmeet, that is how things stand." All seated at the stone table nod in agreement. "So," Lavinet says. "We have three options. Option one: the Elementals take Lockwood, and the residents of Lockwood forsake it. I will tell you now that this is an unacceptable option, not least because the land may be useless to the Elementals, anyway." Umbris Arcterius opens his mouth, then closes it again at Lady Anae's look. "Option two," Lavinet continues. "The citizens of Lockwood keep their current home, and the Elementals forsake it, and perhaps find or create a new Landsmeet somewhere else." The Elder Council says nothing, but from their frowns, you can tell this is not an amenable solution for them. "Option three," Lavinet says. She takes a deep, deep breath. "The citizens of Lockwood, and the united Elementals of the East… share the land. It will take much… compromise, and sharing, and shuffling. But both may attempt to live in Lockwood at the same time." The table erupts into heated shouting all at once. Around you, the air whips and screams, and the trees rattle with the roars of creatures unseen. Lavinet sits at the center of it all, face stony and unmoving. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "youfollowtreev">><</link>></center>

They shout about it for a quite a while, though it's all points you've heard before. The Elders insist that peace cannot exist between Norms and Elementals—especially not after the latter's attack on the estate, or on the farms around the fiefdom. "Beings of fire do not do well in cities with thatch roofs," Lady Anae adds. "Then we will build stone roofs," Lavinet answers. "And create a new quarter in the city—or perhaps add onto it—for the Elementals." "Elementals cannot exist in cities," the Holly King insists. "We live in the wild—with the beasts and the sky—" "The wild has shrunk, you'll find, in the last eight hundred years," Lavinet returns. "And if you carry on willy-nilly, the way you used to, the Autarch will notice it eventually, and she will likely send a force to capture or exterminate you. If you live within Lockwood, we can show that peace and coexistence is possible. And you will have the time and ability to ascertain if the Landsmeet is still there in some form." There's more arguing, and now Angant Hainn adds his voice to the mix, and then some messenger or another shimmers into view beside Nephele and speaks to xem in furious whispers. You catch Tallys's eye, and suddenly she leans forward and asks you: "What do <i>you</i> think they should do?" "What do you think?" you ask her in return. The Elf shakes her head. "I do not think peace between them is possible. Lockwood will burn, or the villagers will burn it down themselves in protest and retribution. Better to give the city to those who need it more, and avoid the unnecessary conflict of trying to share it between two incompatible forces." "You think the Elementals need it more, of course," Pendric says then, overhearing her. Despite it all, his voice remains mild. "But of course. For them, it's a matter of survival—preventing the extinction of their <i>very race</i>. Even if it's a flimsy hope, I would take it, to save my people. The citizens of Lockwood can find homes elsewhere. The Elementals simply cannot do without that specific land." "That's not Lockwood's problem," Ayla puts in then, her voice raw and harsh. "Why do they gotta be punished for something that's got naught to do with them? The Elementals are the ones who've got to figure it out. And if they can't find a way to have babies or bring back their dead, then that just might be how it has to be. But Lockwood shouldn't give everything up just for the <i>hope</i> of it." "I think they must try peace," Briony says, leaning forward, her violet eyes shining earnestly. "Coexistence is risky, dangerous—but complete displacement for either side would be terrible, too. If they can learn to share the same space, each side makes concessions, but each side keeps what's most important to them. And who knows? If they can accomplish it, perhaps they'll set an example for the rest of us. They—" All at once, the conversation dies down, and when you look up again, everyone at the stone table—the Elder Council, Lavinet and her friends, and your squad—is staring at you. It seems someone's addressed you, and you hadn't noticed it. "You are supposed to be mediating this," Umbris Arcterius snaps then. "So? What does the great Shepherd have to say on this matter?" You look around, and Briony, Tallys, Ayla, and Lavinet stare at you with anxiety in their eyes. It seems your opinion will hold great weight in this matter. You clear your throat. <<include "thedecision">>

<ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"The Elementals need to leave Lockwood alone. It\'s someone else\'s home now. It\'s painful, but that\'s the truth of it. You\'ll have to figure something else out."' 'theelementals6need'>><<set $nobles += 25>><<setlavinet +15>><<set $lockwood to "norms">><<if ($tallyssex is false or $tallysromance is false) or $tallys lt 100>><<settallys -10>><</if>><<setayla +3>><<set $angant to 0>><<set $eldercouncil -= 1>><<setloyal +10>><<setorder +10>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"The Elementals need to fight for Lockwood. Your very existence and survival relies on it. If that means displacing the Lockwoodians, so be it."' 'elementals6needto'>><<set $lavinethate to true>><<set $lockwood to "elementals">><<set $eldercouncil += 10>><<set $angant += 50>><<set $nobles -= 50>><<setlavinet -40>><<settallys +8>><<setayla -10>><<setbriony -5>><<setloyal -15>><<setorder -10>><</link>></li> <<if not hasVisited("theelementals6and")>><li><<link '"The Elementals and Lockwoodians have to try and coexist. It\'s the only solution that doesn\'t cause sure harm to both sides. You must give peace a chance."' 'theelementals6and'>><<set $lockwood to "unity">><<setlavinet +3>><<setbriony +10>><<setorder +5>><<setcompassionate +5>><<setreputation +5>><<setcharisma +3>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("youfeel6suddenitch")>><<if $godspeaker gt 0 and $shepherdsknow is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">You feel a sudden itch in your brain, right where the Words of Power are. "I have another idea..." You pause, thinking on it further and also for dramatic effect. "What if I <i>made</i> another Landsmeet?"</div>' 'youfeel6asuddenitch'>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">You feel a sudden itch in your brain, right where the Words of Power are. "I have another idea..." You pause, thinking on it further and also for dramatic effect. "What if I <i>made</i> another Landsmeet?"</div>'>><</link>><</if>><</if>> </ul>

Abruptly, Nephele leaps to xer feet, <<nobr>><<if $strength gte 80>> and you duck just in time to prevent a razor-sharp slice of wind from skimming off the top part of your head. <<else>> and you find yourself being hauled backwards as Briony yanks on the back of your cloak, half-choking you as she heaves you to the ground. There's a clash in the air as the Air Elemental's wind-sword crashes into Ayla's quarterstaff, the weapons struggling together for a moment before Ayla pushes the wind back, making Nephele stagger. <</if>><</nobr>> Lavinet is on her feet at once. "<i>Please</i>!" she cries. "Violence is forbidden here—we came in peace!" "You came to waste our time!" Nephele roars, the icy, biting wind now blasting from xer. "Abandon the Landsmeet? We would rather die!" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Then you will die! Lockwood has an army that can counter yours. And don\'t forget the Autarch, and perhaps even the Shepherds, too! You\'re outmatched. You will die if we truly choose to go to war... and all for nothing."' 'thenyou6will'>><<setcourage +1>><<setcompassionate -5>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Please, this brings me no joy! But you can\'t be willing to slaughter innocents for your own gain. What kind of existence is that? How could you even live with the guilt?"' 'pleasethis6brings'>><<setcompassionate +5>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> <<if $belief is "oldfaith">><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Perhaps this is what the gods intended."</div>' 'perhapsgods6intended'>><<setfaith +5>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">"Perhaps this is what the gods intended."</div>'>><</link>><</if>> </ul>

Nephele stills at that, though Angant Hainn roars, "How dare you?" "No," the Holly King says then, rattling all of his branches for silence. "<<c she>> speak<<nobr>><<if $she is not "plural">>s<</if>><</nobr>> the truth. We are but seedlings in this new world. We would be trampled underfoot by forces we don't know, could never understand. To fight would only serve to hasten our extinction. That cannot be why we were woken from our slumber—to simply charge into a violent end, bringing death and destruction to those around us." "But…" Nephele's voice is small and thin. "What about the younglings? Your brother? My children?" Lady Anae's hand snakes to wrap around xer airy wrist. "We had already resigned ourselves to the possibility that we would never wake up from the <i>akala</i>, old friend," she whispers then, her voice sounding like a sheet of rain falling on grass. "We accepted death then. This is not so different." They all fall silent at that. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "elementalsleave">><</link>></center>

The Air Elemental rears back from you, seeming shaken. "You wouldn't understand," xe says, xer voice half a sob. "You don't know." A tendril of water wraps around xer airy wrist, forcing the warrior to lower xer sword. "<<c rank>> <<c surname>> is right, old friend," Lady Anae says sadly. "We cannot ask the Norms to give up their homes without a fight. And if we fight, either their side dies, or ours does—and we are dying, anyway. They do not deserve wanton destruction." "But what else can we do?" Umbris Arcterius demands, his voice bitter. "We are awake. We could have just been left to die, to fade away in the <i>akala</i>. Why have we been awakened, only to bear witness to our own slow deaths?" "The gods work in mysterious ways," the Holly King rumbles then. "Perhaps the chance to see the sun once more, before all goes dark for our kind… perhaps that is a mercy rather than a curse." They all fall silent at that. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "elementalsleave">><</link>></center>

The Air Elemental rears back from you, with something like a sob. "What? No… you blaspheme!" A tendril of water wraps around xer airy wrist, forcing the warrior to lower xer sword. "Perhaps <<c rank>> <<c surname>> speaks the truth, old friend," Lady Anae says sadly. "The gods created us. Surely, if they had the power to guard the Landsmeet in our absence, they would have. Perhaps this is how it was meant to be." "But why wake us up, only to let us die out?" Umbris Arcterius demands. "It seems cruel." "The gods can be cruel," the Holly King grumbles then. "We know this. Or perhaps this is our second chance. To accomplish something before we fade away. We would have in the <i>akala</i>, anyway. In a way, the chance to see the sun once more before dying is a small mercy." They all fall silent at that. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "elementalsleave">><</link>></center>

Clara audibly gasps, and the color drains from Lavinet's face. Lady Summerfield hisses, "So now we see the truth of things." Ayla looks downright shocked by your actions. "Hold on a moment," she says, making a chopping motion in the air as if to physically cut off your words. "You realize you're advocating for war, right? Because Lockwood's not going to give up their home. They're going to defend it—violently, if they have to. You're saying it's okay for the Elementals to wage war?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"If it depends on the survival of their species, yes."' 'ifit6depends'>><<setcunning +3>><<setcompassionate -3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I hope it doesn\'t come to that. But I can\'t tell them not to fight for their people."' 'aylashakes6her'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"The Elementals were here first. And the Norms have taken too much from the rest of us."' 'aylashakes6her'>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setloyal -5>><<setorder -1>><<set $eldercouncil += 1>><<set $angant += 10>><<setlavinet -10>><<settallys +3>><<setayla -3>><<set $tallysharden -= 1>><</link>></li> </ul>

"Any one of us would do the same thing," you say. "Lavinet would wage war if it meant her people would survive. We would wage war if it protected the Shepherds. I cannot condemn the Elementals for merely wanting to live." <<include "aylashakes6her">>

Ayla shakes her head. "That's cold, <<c firstname>>." The Elders are all looking at each other, seemingly communicating without speaking. Lady Anae says finally, "As we stated, we do not wish for bloodshed. But if there is no room to compromise, there is nothing to discuss further." <<include "elementalswar">>

"Impossible!" Umbris Arcterius slams a fiery fist down on the stone table; you see Clara flinch. "It is not simply a matter of old hatreds, Shepherd. Even if we could force our people to see past their resentment of the Norms for destroying the Landsmeet…" "Or appease the Norms after our kind burned their homes and drove them into poverty…" Lady Anae begins. "…Our peoples are fundamentally incompatible. Beings of wind and air cannot live in houses! We Flamelings are meant to burn. It is hard enough to avoid forests, out of respect to the Holly and Oak Kings, and even then, it does not always happen, and wildfires ignite. To do that in a city would be unthinkable." "The Hill Folk must be among the green," the Holly King booms. "Not locked up in that stone monstrosity!" <ul class="choices"> <<if $intelligence gte 50 and $charisma gte 60>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Appeal to their sense of logic. Where else would they go?</div>' 'appealto6their'>><<setreputation +10>><<set $eldercouncil += 5>><<setorder +5>><<setintelligence +3>><<setcharisma +3>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Appeal to their sense of logic. Where else would they go?</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $compassionate gte 70 and $charisma gte 60>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Appeal to their compassion. This is the only way that avoids violence. Isn\'t it worth trying?</div>' 'appeal6tocompassion'>><<set $reputation +10>><<set $eldercouncil += 5>><<setorder +5>><<setcompassionate +5>><<setcharisma +3>><<setlavinet +3>><<if $gender is "male">><<set $lavinetromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Appeal to their compassion. This is the only way that avoids violence. Isn\'t it worth trying?</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $compassionate lt 40 and $charima gte 50>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Make clear what happens if they say no. If they go down the path of destruction, their people will suffer the consequences.</div>' 'makeclear6what'>><<setreputation +10>><<set $eldercouncil -= 1>><<setorder +3>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setcharisma +3>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Make clear what happens if they say no. If they go down the path of destruction, their people will suffer the consequences.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($nobles gte 80 and $lavinet gte 55) and $charisma gte 70>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Vouch for the virtue of the people of Lockwood and Lavinet. If they can make it work, why can\'t the Elementals?</div>' 'vouchfor6virtue'>><<set $nobles += 10>><<setlavinet +10>><<if $gender is "male">><<set $lavinetromanceflag += 3>><</if>><<setcharisma +5>><<setreputation +10>><<set $tallysharden += 1>><<settallys -3>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Vouch for the virtue of the people of Lockwood and Lavinet. If they can make it work, why can\'t the Elementals?</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($angant gte 40 and $eldercouncil gte 3) and $charisma gte 50>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Appeal to Angant Hainn to speak for you.</div>' 'appealto6angant'>><<set $angant += 40>><<setayla +1>><<setbriony +1>><<settallys +1>><<set $eldercouncil += 10>><<setreputation +10>><<setcharisma +6>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Appeal to Angant Hainn to speak for you.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link 'On second thought, never mind. This would never work.' 'onsecond6thought'>><<set $eldercouncil -= 1>><<setreputation -= 5>><</link>></li> </ul>

"As Lavinet said, where else would you go?" you ask. "If you disperse across the Continent, the Autarch's forces will take notice of you. Even if they don't, you won't have access to the Landsmeet. Even if it's only temporary, wouldn't you rather have a protected home near your holy site rather than simply scattering, remaining aimless until the rest of you die out?" Ringing silence. The Elder Council stares at you as if you've grown another head. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "appealto6theiri">><</link>></center>

"The Shepherd is right," Lady Anae says after a moment, her arms curling and uncurling like ropes made of water. "We don't have much of a choice. We need a base of operations while we search for our lost kin—and we need to remain close to the Landsmeet, to learn if it is still viable. It is a generous solution. We'd be fools not to take it." The Holly King looks to Lavinet. "Are you truly prepared to offer such a solution, Lady Naveen?" he asks, his golden eyes watching her like an owl's peering out from the depths of its nest. "Or is <<c surname>> speaking overmuch on your behalf?" <<include "elementalsstay">>

"This is the only way that gets everyone some measure of what they want," you say. "None of you asked for this. Not the Elementals, not the people of Lockwood. But it's here now, and you just have to make do and find the solution that benefits everyone the most and harms them the least. There is literally no other route that doesn't lead to conflict of some kind. Yes, there may be risks—maybe even tension or friction. But isn't it worth at least trying, before denouncing it? Isn't the risk of conflict better than choosing it straight out the gate? Your decisions here will impact the lives of thousands of people. Don't dismiss a chance at peace so lightly." Ringing silence. The Elder Council stares at you as if you've grown another head. Lavinet looks quietly shocked by your passionate appeal. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "appeal6tocompassioni">><</link>></center>

"The Shepherd is right," Lady Anae says after a moment, her voice very soft. "We don't have much of a choice. Even if we leave the area and forsake the Landsmeet, we are still choosing certain death for our people. Even if it will be difficult… living among non-Elementals… it is a small sacrifice compared to what will certainly happen if we don't take the chance." She inclines her head to you and Lavinet. "It is a generous solution. Perhaps better than we deserve." The Holly King watches Lavinet with his shrewd yellow eyes. "Are you truly prepared to offer such a solution, Lady Naveen?" he asks. "What of your father? Is <<c surname>> speaking overmuch on your behalf?" <<include "elementalsstay">>

"I don't know how much more we can say it," you tell them. "The Autarchy has weapons you wouldn't believe. Cannons the size of horses that can level a building in one shot. Iron machines that are impervious to flame or water. <i>They dominated the world</i>, do you understand? They subjugated the likes of the Ket, the Hunters, the Elves, the Mages, and all other Children of Light in less than one hundred years, and have been ruling over them ever since. Your numbers are few and your people confused and unprepared. If you don't accept this olive branch, and the protection and security that comes with it, you're faced with death either way. Either you die slowly, never able to access the Landsmeet; or you war with Lavinet's people for it, and you die then, killing many of them alongside you in wanton, meaningless destruction; or you scatter, try to live out the rest of your existences, and you're discovered by the Autarchy and they don't hesitate to extinguish you as a new, untethered, and uncontrolled threat. That's it. Those are your other options. All of them lead in death." You take a breath. "But if you choose to at least <i>try</i> and coexist with the people of Lockwood, you show the Autarchy that you are no threat—that you have done nothing worthy of concern. And you get to seize your only chance to remain near the Landsmeet and see if you can revive it, without killing innocent people when you knew there was another way. It's a simple choice, if you ask me." Ringing silence. The Elder Council stares at you, suddenly as dead and still as the grave. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "makeclear6whati">><</link>></center>

"The Shepherd is right," Lady Anae murmurs after a moment. "We don't have much of a choice. Even if we leave the area and forsake the Landsmeet, we are still choosing certain death for our people. Even if it will be difficult… living among non-Elementals… it is a small sacrifice compared to what will certainly happen if we don't take the chance." She inclines her head to you and Lavinet. "It is a generous solution. Perhaps better than we deserve." The Holly King watches Lavinet with his shrewd yellow eyes. "Are you truly prepared to offer such a solution, Lady Naveen?" he asks. "What of your father? Is <<c surname>> speaking overmuch on your behalf?" <<include "elementalsstay">>

"I have every reason to hate people like Lavinet," you say. She stirs, but otherwise doesn't interrupt you as you continue: "Her ancestors harmed and oppressed mine, and even to this day, the gap between our class and status is vast. I could resent her for the injustices of history—but I don't. She made a show of faith in calling us here to help her, when she could have been biased and relied on her own kind to avoid giving us a chance to prove our worth. She's… different. Many of her peers are different. Their hearts are open to change, and to peace. I can tell they're trying to instill progress, trying to lead by example… trying to make the world a better place, even if it is within the trappings of power and politics. Look at how she agreed to meet you here and hear you out, even after you tried to kidnap her, starved her constituents, and burned their homes." You shake your head. "The citizens of Lockwood don't deserve your ire or your hatred. They're simply people, trying to live and build their homes and lives just as you are. They were willing to work with us for the greater good. With time, they'll work with you, too. But you have to set aside your pride, the old indignities that they had no hand in. You have to meet them halfway for peace to be made possible." Ringing silence. The Elder Council stares at you as if you've grown another head. Lavinet looks quietly shocked by your passionate appeal. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "vouchfor6virtuei">><</link>></center>

"The Shepherd is right," Lady Anae says after a moment, her voice very soft. "Had we done this to other Elementals, no doubt we'd already be at war. It takes a rare breed of person to meet us after all we've done. The least we can do is give them… this… a chance." "It is not as if we have much choice," the Holly King allows reluctantly. "Even if we leave the area and forsake the Landsmeet, we are still choosing certain death for our people. Even if it will be difficult… living among Defilers…" Lavinet clears her throat softly. "…Among other Children of Light… it is a small sacrifice compared to what will certainly happen if we don't do it. We will perish, and all of this would have been for naught." He looks to you and Lavinet. "It is a generous solution. Perhaps better than we deserve." The Flameling chieftain doesn't seem wholly satisfied. He turns to Lavinet, staring at her with his burning eyes, and says, "Are you truly willing to extend such an invitation, Lady Naveen?" It's the first time he's addressed her with any measure of respect, you note. "What of your father? Or is <<c surname>> speaking overmuch on your behalf?" <<include "elementalsstay">>

The Flameling captive stares at you for a moment, as if surprised you even remembered he was here, before clearing his throat. At your nod, Ayla loosens his bindings enough for him to address the Elder Council. If any of them wanted to attack you, they would have done it already. To your surprise, Angant Hainn immediately takes a knee, pressing his forehead against his clasped forearms as they rest on his bent leg. "Elders," he says, his voice rough and his expression hidden by his posture, "I do not dare presume to advise you on these matters. I am but a lowly warrior, and you are the oldest and wisest of our kind." "Rise, Angant Hainn, for you are the champion of the Aithne Hainn clan and Bearer of the Blue Flame," Umbris Arcterius says gruffly. "While you are young, you have earned your right to address this council." Angant Hainn nods, but doesn't look up from his bowed position. "Elders," he says again. "I profess, we of the Aithne Hainn clan supported war against the Norms. We were willing to burn their castle down to ash if it meant reclaiming the Landsmeet. But…" He hesitates. "They have treated me well, as their captive. I do not know what it means. But they have kindness and compassion, things you need for peace. They have strength and courage, too, for they were skilled enough to take me prisoner. They are enemies worthy of our respect. Possibly even equals. As allies, I think they might be deserving of that respect even more. And I believe they will keep their oaths." "Thank you, Angant Hainn," Lady Anae says kindly. "As one of the few to have prolonged interaction with these people, it is valuable to hear what you think of them." Angant Hainn nods and takes a step back, avoiding your eye. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "appealto6anganti">><</link>></center>

"Well," the Holly King says after a moment, "Angant Hainn of the Aithne Hainn clan makes a compelling point. The mortals could have mistreated him, or retaliated against our kind for what we did to theirs. That alone speaks to our chances of possible peace. As difficult as it would be to share land with them…" "It is a small sacrifice," Lady Anae declares quietly. "We don't have any other choice, and they have proven their worth. If we forsake the Landsmeet and leave this territory, our people will die out, anyway. If we seek it only for ourselves and declare war, we will most likely die, and they will perish, too. Attempting peace is the only other option." The other Elders grumble amongst themselves for a moment. Then Umbris Arcterius says, turning to Lavinet: "Are you really prepared to extend such an invitation, Lady Naveen? We will not lead our people into a death-trap. We must be certain of our safety beforehand. Will your father go along with such a plan? Or does <<c surname>> speak overmuch on your behalf?" <<include "elementalsstay">>

Umbris Arcterius snorts derisively at your indecision. "What <i>do</i> you think would work, then?" <<include "thedecision">>

The others look up sharply, and Umbris Arcterius's eyes narrow dangerously. "Do not jest, Shepherd," he spits. "This is a matter of life or death for our kind. We do not have time to entertain tiresome jokes." "I'm not joking," you tell him. There's a burning, thrashing feeling in your brain, and since the Voices don't chime in, you can't tell if it's a good thing or a bad thing. Just this strange, gnawing tingle, deep in your brainstem and then way down in the quivering, spasming depths of your heart. "I think I can… maybe… make the Landsmeet anew?" Lavinet shakes her head, brow furrowed, while Briony, Tallys, and Ayla watch you keenly. They've seen or heard of you performing great things with your Words before, so they probably have an inkling of what's about to happen. But this is so different, an act of creation and renewal, and those deeds in the past were almost always acts of destruction… is it even possible to use the Words of Power this way? You shake off the doubts as best you can, though they nag at you like flies. "Why didn't you bring this up before?" Lavinet asks, clearly at a loss. The Holly King is frowning at you, his golden eyes piercing. You begin to explain, but it's difficult to know how much to say. The more you talk, the more the words seem to tumble out of you, jerked as if by a puppet's string. Your head feels a little detached from the rest of you, as if it might simply float away from your body. "Do you understand what $she <<nobr>><<if $plural is true>>are<<else>>is<</if>><</nobr>> talking about?" Umbris Arcterius asks Angant Hainn, who shrugs. You need to convince them that what you're saying isn't simply fanciful gibberish. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Rely on your skills at persuasion. You\'re a charismatic, compelling speaker, and you can convince them that what you say is true.' 'relyon6your'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Rely on your sheer courage and conviction. You believe in yourself enough that you can make them believe in you, too.' 'relyon6sheer'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Rely on sheer logic and wit. They\'re only interested in cold, hard facts, and you\'re going to give that to them.' 'relyon6logic'>><</link>></li> <<if (($briony gte 50 and $brionyhate is false) and ($tallys gte 50 and $tallyshate is false)) and ($ayla gte 50 and $aylahate is false)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Appeal to the other Shepherds to vouch for you.</div>' 'appealothershepherds6vouch'>><<setbriony +3>><<setayla +3>><<settallys +3>><<setloyal +3>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Appeal to the other Shepherds to vouch for you.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link 'Take it all back. This seems a bit harebrained, if you\'re being honest.' 'takeit6all'>><<set $eldercouncil -= 5>><<set $angant -= 10>><<setlavinet -8>><<setcourage -10>><<setintelligence -3>><<setreputation -5>><</link>></li> </ul>

<<nobr>><<if $charisma gte 65>> <<include "hardtobelieve">> <<else>> <<include "eldercouncilfail">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $courage gte 65>> <<include "hardtobelieve">> <<else>> <<include "eldercouncilfail">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $intelligence gte 65>> <<include "hardtobelieve">> <<else>> <<include "eldercouncilfail">> <</if>><</nobr>>

"This will be hard to believe," you begin. Your voice cracks; you clear it again. "Er… when I was thirteen… on my birthday… there was a… a Voice. It… spoke to me." Dead stares. Briony chews her lip, and Pendric looks profoundly awkward. Gamely, you forge on. "And, well, at my birthday, the Voice… bequeathed a special power unto me. Onto me? Whichever it is. And ever since, I've been able to use that power to…" You trail off. "…Destroy demons. And my home. That isn't part of it, though. Or maybe it is! Could be a reversal kind of thing—destruction, creation. Maybe I can reverse-destroy the Landsmeet?" The Elder Council stares at you, completely unreadable. The air feels dead and hot. Ayla puts her head in her hands. "I'll ask you to not waste our time again, <<c surname>>," Umbris Arcterius finally says, in a quiet, crackling voice. He turns back to Lavinet. "Now. What are we going to do about our negotiations? In terms actually defined by <i>reality</i>?" "I'll ask you not to speak to <<c rank>> <<c surname>> so rudely, my liege," Lavinet says stiffly, though she, too, seems embarrassed. Lady Summerfield is looking daggers at you from the end of the stone table. "<<c she>> <<nobr>><<if $plural is true>>are<<else>>is<</if>><</nobr>> still my honored guest, so $she <<nobr>><<if $plural is true>>are<<else>>is<</if>><</nobr>> due some manners. But getting back to the point…" She looks around. "Does anyone have any other ideas?" You swallow, feeling it scrape past your throat like a wood chip. Well, <i>that </i> didn't work. Maybe it's for the better. You're still not totally sure this is what the Words are for, if anything… Lavinet looks around. "Anyone?" <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "thedecision">><<set $eldercouncil -= 5>><<set $nobles -= 10>><<setlavinet -10>><<if $lavinetromanceflag gte 3>><<set $lavinetromanceflag to 0>><</if>><<setayla -3>><<setbriony -3>><<settallys -3>><<setcharisma -5>><<setintelligence -5>><<setcourage -5>><<setcunning -5>><<setreputation -10>><</link>></center>

"This will sound hard to believe," you begin, "but I have a special power. It doesn't seem to be a power that's been seen before: it's not exactly magic, nor is it arma or grace, nor any of the Gifts we normally see among the Children of Light. All I can say is that it has the power to… bring about great change or destruction. When I was thirteen, I made an Endarkened vanish into thin air with it. I didn't kill it, or send it back to Hael, or anything like that. I simply… erased it from reality." You speak around the lump in your throat, keeping calm. "Among other things." None of the Elders speak, simply staring at you. "Go on," Lavinet says, frowning deeply. You shake your head. "I only have a limited amount of this power. But with each fragment, I've been able to accomplish great things. Typically, those things involve powerful Endarkened, such as the Faceless Lords—" Angant Hainn, behind you, starts and hisses. "The Dread Princes of Hael? They're here?" He swings around to the Elders. "Perhaps that is why we were awakened! The world-walls must have been torn asunder to let those monsters through—or perhaps the earth cried out at the touch of their tainted presence, and that jolted us awake—" Nephele holds a hand up, and the light emanating from Angant Hainn flickers uncertainly. "Let <<c surname>> speak, Angant Hainn. I am more interested in how all of this ties into the Landsmeet." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "ihave6useddestroy">><<setreputation +15>><<set $eldercouncil to 100>><<set $nobles to 100>><<set $angant to 100>><<setlavinet +10>><<settallys +10>><<setbriony +10>><<setayla +10>><<setcharisma +3>><<setintelligence +3>><<setcourage +3>><<setcunning +3>><</link>></center>

"I have always used my power to destroy," you continue, looking at each of them in turn. Umbris Arcterius, with his fiery orange gaze. Lady Anae, with her shapeless, gleaming face. The Holly King, with his pinched and moss-bearded expression. Nephele, a whirl of air and feeling. "That's why I didn't initially think of it. But if there's even a chance I can use it to bring back the Landsmeet… to somehow beckon it back into reality…" You pause. "Would that suffice for you? Even if it wasn't at the old site… if the new Landsmeet served its purpose in aiding the creation of your young and remaking your dead, would you be satisfied enough to leave Lockwood alone?" "Yes," Nephele says immediately, before anyone else can speak. "If what you say is true—<i>yes</i>." Umbris Arcterius makes a furious noise. "The Landsmeet is a holy ground for us—it is where the Green Lady grew her first garden—" Nephele blows a gust of wind at him, so that the flames on his head head almost go out; Ayla snickers. "I don't <i>care</i> about that, Umbris. As long as we can grow our families there, I don't care where the site is. We can pay homage to the gods from afar; but the purpose of the Landsmeet is far more important than its location." "I agree with Nephele," Lady Anae says. "<i>If</i> it were possible…" "We would form a Covenant with Lady Naveen right now," the Holly King says, still looking reserved; but his eyes are bright with interest. "Along with the Shepherds. But it can't be done. Only the gods have the power to create a Landsmeet; no mere Mage could call forth the rainbow zephyr, or create another lake of dreams…" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I can."' 'ican6umbris'>><<setcourage +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'m no \'mere Mage.\'"' 'imno6mere'>><<setcourage +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"What is a Covenant?"' 'whatis6covenant'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Let\'s just try it and see."' 'thewordofpower'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Umbris Arcterius watches you for a long, long time. "I believe you," he says finally. "How do we test it and see?" <<include "thewordofpower">>

"It is a blood pact," Angant Hainn mentions quietly. "A sacred oath taken by Elementals, signed in blood. The consequences for breaking a Covenant are extreme. Those who violate their promise are unable to be remade in the Landsmeet, even after they die. Their souls are condemned and locked to the center of the earth, never to be recycled into a new body again." "Well, that's convenient," Ayla remarks under her breath. "Considering there is no Landsmeet right now, that isn't exactly a huge risk. They can't be reborn, anyway, so breaking their oath carries no risk." "But if <<c firstname>> can make a new Landsmeet… everything changes." Briony's voice is uncertain, but she smiles at you encouragingly. Lady Anae shakes her head. "I just don't see how that would be possible." You sigh and push yourself away from the table. "Let's try it and see." <<include "thewordofpower">>

"It's true," Briony says immediately. "<<c firstname>> has a—a special kind of power about $them, an ability that no one else has. You're all attuned to the world in a different way than most Children of Light—surely you can see it, too?" "It glows out of $them," Ayla agrees, folding her arms. "You must have noticed. And we've seen the evidence of what $she can do. Things no one else could. Not even the Autarch, or a great Archmage, or even the Mages of old." "On the day I met <<c firstname>>, <<print $she>>'d taken down a Revenant by <<print $them>>self," Tallys begins. <<nobr>><<if $prihinedead is true or $bothdead is true>> Beside you, Lavinet stiffens. <<else>> Beside you, Lavinet perks up. <</if>><</nobr>> "And that's the very least of the incredible things $she<<nobr>><<if $plural is true>>'ve<<else>>'s<</if>><</nobr>> accomplished since then." She lists out your long and storied past: the Elders listen as Tallys regales them about your deeds with the Shepherds, the impossibilities and miracles that you've performed. "They don't call $them the Hero of Haven for nothing," Briony cuts in when Tallys draws to a halt. "At the very least, give <<c firstname>> a chance. <<c she>>'ll show you. If $she <<if $plural is true>>want<<else>>wants<</if>> to make a new Landsmeet, I believe $she could do it just like <i>that</i>." She snaps her fingers for emphasis. Then she bites her lip, casting a sideways glance at you; the Elders don't miss it, either. You feel the brush of a foreign mind against yours. <i>But can you afford to use your power on something like this, <<c firstname>>?</i> Briony asks you. <i>You only have so many Words—and it's always taken a lot out of you. The scale of creating a new Landsmeet would be vast, far vaster even than eradicating a Faceless Lord. What if it pushes your body too far?</i> <ul class="choices"> <<if $courage gte 70 and $compassionate gte 70>><<link '<div class="choice-item"><i>Then I\'ll die knowing I\'m doing the right thing.</i></div>' 'thenill6dieknowing'>><<setbriony +1>><<set $brionyromanceflag += 1>><<setcourage +2>><<setcompassionate +5>><<setloyal +2>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item"><i>Then I\'ll die knowing I\'m doing the right thing.</i></div>'>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link '<i>We don\'t really have many other choices, do we?</i>' 'wedont6havechoicesdo'>><<setcourage -1>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '<i>Don\'t worry about me. I\'ve always been fine, haven\'t I?</i>' 'dontworry6mefine'>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setloyal +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '<i>I guess we\'ll have to see.</i>' 'iguess6wellseehave'>><<setcharisma -1>><<setbriony -1>><<if $brionyromanceflag lte 5>><<set $brionyromanceflag -= 1>><</if>><</link>></li> </ul>

She bites her lip again. <i>Don't say that. If it's too much of a strain, we can—</i> <<include "fine6then">>

Briony looks noticeably unhappy. <i>Well, no, but—</i> <<include "fine6then">>

She worries her lip. <i>But will that always be the case? I—</i> <<include "fine6then">>

She looks noticeably unhappy. <i>But—</i> <<include "fine6then">>

"Fine, then," the Holly King says, stroking his pointed beard with a gnarled, branch-like hand. "We do not know you, any of you; but your testimony seems sincere. It's clear that <<c surname>> has skills that even $she <<if $plural is true>>don't<<else>>doesn't<</if>> seem to fully understand. But how do we know if they're actually up to snuff—that they can accomplish what we want them to accomplish?" You sigh, pushing yourself away from the stone table. "There's no time to like the present. Let's give it a try and see." <<include "thewordofpower">>

Umbris Arcterius flares a little, the flames on his head shooting up three feet into the air. "Ridiculous," he mutters, folding his arms. "Then? What <i>do</i> you propose we do, other than dither?" <<include "thedecision">>

Lavinet hesitates for only a moment before drawing her head up high. "This was the solution I had decided upon before we came here," she replies. "Whatever my father's feelings, he does not want an all-out war. If this is the only path to averting further violence between our people, we will unite and make him choose that path." She shakes her head. "There will be other complications, of course. We will need to undergo a vast project—construction, finances—and persuading the people of Lockwood to accept this will take time and effort on both sides. They will likely demand reparations for the lives lost during your initial assaults." "We do not deal with currency," Umbris Arcterius answers gravely. "We are people of the free wind, fire, water, and earth. We do not require food nor shelter, so we do not barter or trade. But we can rebuild their homes, try and help them renew their communities the best we can." He glances at the others. "It will be a matter of some discussion." Lavinet nods. "And it will take time for you to persuade your people to give this peace a chance, as well, and to calm their anger about the Landsmeet. But I think that <<c firstname>> is right. It will be a long and difficult road, but ultimately it's the one that leads to peace and harmony." The Elders of the Council all nod, some looking reserved and reluctant, the others looking relieved and tentatively even hopeful. "We will do our best to work together and reach an accord between our people," Lady Anae says. "It shall be done." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "elementalsstayi">><</link>></center>

Lavinet and her nobles talk for a while longer with the Elder Council, hashing out the various logistics and details of what they're attempting to do. There are currently only five hundred Elementals awake in this region, a sixth of Lockwood's overall population. Lavinet and the Council go back and forth on whether a home for them should be built within the city limits, or away from the general populace of Lockwood. Having them farther away from the population center will reduce the inevitable friction with Lockwood's citizens, but it will also hamper the Elementals when it comes to exploring the viability of the old Landsmeet, which is centered somewhere beneath the Naveen estate and Lockwood's downtown. It's a complicated, tangled matter, but you can tell that each side is trying to be patient and understanding. From the weary, haggard looks that cross Clara and Pendric's faces, though, you can tell what a daunting, terrifying task this is going to be. And hopefully those same patiences don't start to wear and fray in the future. <<nobr>><<if $rusesucceed is false>> "How can we be sure that war won't break out, confining such different peoples within the same borders?" Lady Summerfield asks then, still clearly skeptical about all of this. <br><br> The Holly King frowns, shaking his fruit-crowned head. "There are no guarantees in this life," he says. "The best we can do is to form a Covenant." <br><br> "A Covenant?" Lavinet asks. <br><br> Angant Hainn steps in. "A Covenant is a sacred oath among our people," he says. "It is a blood pact, a binding contract that transcends the ages. If an Elemental breaks a Covenant made with another person, their soul is unanchored, and they cannot be remade or reincarnated through the Landsmeet." <br><br> Ayla makes a skeptical sound, low in her throat. "That's not a very heavy punishment," she says, "considering there isn't even a Landsmeet right now, anyway. It's like saying you'll promise to jump in lava if you break an oath, knowing there aren't any volcanoes left on Earth." <br><br> "You underestimate how seriously we take our oaths, Wind-Mage," Umbris Arcterius answers sharply. "A Covenant is a soul promise, rooted in ancient magic and powerful arts now lost to time. No Elemental willingly breaks one, and even those uninvolved in the Covenant itself takes pains to help protect it." <br><br> Lavinet says, "Well, the Elementals have incentive to adhere to it, since they'll lose their ability to be reborn if they break the promise—but what does a Covenant demand of the other party in the exchange?" <br><br> There's a brief pause. "Generally, it must be something of an equal sacrifice to our own," Lady Anae answers softly. "Something as precious to the contractor as the ability to be reborn after death is to us. The life of a firstborn child, perhaps…" <br><br> Clara gasps, and Pendric gives a little start in his chair. "That's outrageous!" he cries. "You can't ask Lady Lavinet to sacrifice her <i>firstborn child</i>—" <br><br> "It is only a sacrifice if the Covenant is broken," Lady Anae answers mildly. "If it is maintained, then nothing happens to the contractors at all, and all is well." <br><br> Pendric's face has drained of color. "Still…" <br><br> Before anyone can say any more, though, you suddenly hear the sounds of distant hoofbeats on the ground, beating a tattoo against your heart like a band of wardrums. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Uh-oh.</span></div></div>' "tallysis6onher">><</link>></center> <<else>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "finally6lavinetlooks">><</link>></center> <</if>><</nobr>>

Tallys is on her feet in an instant, touching the ground with her fingertips, and a Wind Scout materializes beside Nephele, squeaking, "Ten riders to the southwest, following the tracks out of town! They'll be here within ten minutes!" Ayla curses, and Lavinet looks like she's been shot through the heart. "My father's discovered our ruse," she murmurs, clenching the edge of the stone table hard enough to turn her entire forearm white with strain. "He's sent out riders to retrieve us—and if they find us here—" "They may attack us before you get a chance to explain or tell them to stand down," Nephele finishes grimly. Xe turns to the rest of the Elders. "We must away, with haste, if we are to avoid a direct confrontation with the Norm forces." Umbris Arcterius and Lady Anae nod, giving some sort of signal: all around you, the edges of the grove erupt into a flurry of motion, Sylphs and Sprites dissipating or bearing their heavier friends up into the sky, Flamelings winking out like blurred candles. Boulder-like Hill Folk burrow into the earth, churning it as they tunnel away from the area, and the tree figures of their cousins disappear into the forest in a blizzard of leaves. "Wait," Lavinet gasps, looking at the Elders as they also turn to go. "I don't know when we can meet again—my father will keep close tabs on me after this discovery, and I don't know when I'll be able to sneak away next." "Then let us seal this agreement with an unbreakable oath," the Holly King returns. "That way, no matter what he does, he will be bound to follow our agreement in order to protect you. We will force his hand by signing a Covenant here, now." "We must hurry, if we are to accomplish it before those riders get here and stop us," Nephele warns. Clara puts a hand on Lavinet's arm. "My lady, do not do this!" she pleads, her voice as high and trembling as a plaintive bird's cry. "To do such a thing in haste… think about what you are signing away!" Lavinet gives her a wan, reassuring smile. "It's all right, Clara," she whispers, too quiet for the Elementals to hear. "I'm not sure I even planned on having children, anyway." "Six minutes away," the Wind Scout reports. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Don\'t do this, Lavinet."' 'dontdo6thislavinet'>><<setlavinet +3>><<set $lavinettraded to "firstborn">><</link>></li> <<if ($courage gte 50 and $compassionate gte 55) and $loyal gte 50>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Wait. Let me sign the Covenant in Lavinet\'s stead."</div>' 'waitletme6sign'>><<setcompassionate +5>><<setcourage +3>><<setloyal +5>><<set $lavinettraded to "firstborn">><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">"Wait. Let me sign the Covenant in Lavinet\'s stead."</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $cunning gte 50 and $intelligence gte 50>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Don\'t barter with your future\'s children\'s lives. They\'re innocent in all of this, and you never know what will happen. Sign for something else: your personal wealth, or your claim to Lockwood\'s rule."</div>' 'dontbarter6with'>><<setcunning +3>><<setintelligence +3>><<set $lavinettraded to "rule">><<setlavinet +3>><<set $tallysharden += 1>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">"Don\'t barter with your future\'s children\'s lives. They\'re innocent in all of this, and you never know what will happen. Sign for something else: your personal wealth, or your claim to Lockwood\'s rule."</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link 'Hold your tongue. This is her people\'s problem, so only she can solve it as their future ruler.' 'thecovenant'>><<setcompassionate -3>><<setloyal -5>><</link>></li> </ul>

She smiles at you thinly. "I don't believe I have a choice," she says, putting on a brave face. "If we allow my father to disrupt things now, we may never get another chance to bring these plans to fruition. This way, his hand is forced, and peace is assured." <<include "thecovenant">>

<<set $lavinetbarter to true>>She turns to the Holly King. "What must I do?" The sovereign places his gnarled hand on the stone table, and when you look again, part of it has separated to form a strange stone tablet covered with esoteric symbols. "We will form the Covenant," he intones. "Let us fight together for peace." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "thecovenantii">><</link>></center>

By the time Lavinet has finished signing the tablet, pressing her bloody handprint into the stone, the multi-colored blood-marks of the other Elders are already fading, forming a rainbow sheen like the shimmer of a butterfly's wings, or the incandescence of an oil slick mingling with rain. Lavinet sits back, calm despite the horrified expressions of her friends, and before you know it, the Elders have vanished in a whirlwind of heat and light. Lord Lockwood's riders enter the copse shortly after, shouting at the sight of Lavinet with the bleeding cut on her palm. "Well," the aristocrat says smartly, allowing Tallys to tie a bandage tightly around her palm, "I suppose we must return home now. We have much to do, starting with convincing my father of what's happened here. After that, we must move the refugees back to their homes, see the aristocrats back to their lands safely… and begin the long process of moving the Elementals in…" Clara is regarding her mistress anxiously. "Do you really think any of this will work, Lady?" she asks, clearly fretting. Lavinet smiles a little and shrugs. "It must. <<if $lavinettraded is "firstborn">>The life of my firstborn child depends on it. <<else>> My future rule depends on it. <</if>> Luckily for the rest of the world…" And here she looks at you with a strange cunning in her eyes, almost smug, as if you were playing cards and had played right into her hand. "I have always been a gambling woman. And my bets tend to pay off." <<include "endchapter6">>

"That wouldn't work," Umbris Arcterius answers impatiently. "The Covenant must be signed by the person with the power to enforce the peace we seek. You belong to your Order. Whatever you sacrifice in the name of the Covenant may still not be enough to persuade the Lord of Lockwood to enter these peace accords. It must be someone closer to him—someone who will someday rule Lockwood itself." Lavinet pats your arm. "He's right, <<c firstname>>" she says, smiling gently. "But I appreciate the thought." <<include "thecovenant">>

Lavinet turns to the Elders. "Would that suffice, my lieges?" "We have no use or attachment to wealth," Umbris Arcterius says grudgingly. "Therefore, we cannot gauge if it is a large enough sacrifice on your part. But the rule of Lockwood might be worthy, maybe." "But does that mean if the Covenant is broken, the Elementals will gain control of Lockwood instead of Lady Lavinet?" Lady Summerfield asks, looking sick at the thought of it. The Holly King shakes his head. "The Covenant is not used for one side to gain the advantage over the other. It is simply used to impose severe consequences for breaking it, and to encourage its signatories to keep their word. If Lady Naveen fears losing control of her fiefdom, then she will uphold the Covenant. That is enough for us. We would not take her reign in the event of the Covenant being broken. It would simply pass to whoever she deems her successor. It is about the potential sacrifice for one side, not about the other side's greed." Lavinet thinks on this for a moment. "Then <<c firstname>> is right," she says eventually. "I'd rather suffer the consequences of a broken Covenant alone, rather than delegating them to my children. I will offer up my future rule of Lockwood as the toll." Clara gasps, and Lady Summerfield hisses. "Don't do this, Lavinet!" However, Lavinet ignores them, and Tallys looks grudgingly impressed despite herself. "Very well," Lady Anae says, looking around at the other Elders, who nod their approval. "Your offering is accepted." Lavinet takes a breath. <<include "thecovenant">>

Finally Lavinet looks up at the sky, which is beginning to darken; the dark clouds overhead are back, and your bones are beginning to ache from the dampened cold. "We should end our discussions here for today," she declares, "but let's be ready to meet again in the very near future. I understand that time is of the essence for you and your people, but I'll need at least a few days to get my father on board, and to brainstorm with my advisors on how best to go about this. There is much to consider." "How do we know you won't go back on your word, or change your mind?" Umbris Arcterius demands then. "Much can change in the time between confronting your father and the next time we meet. He could easily persuade you to renege on our plans." "I never go back on my word," Lavinet answers calmly, checking her timepiece. No one ever came riding after you, so it seems your ruse back in Lockwood is still holding up. "But I understand if you seek further assurances. What can I offer, so that you know I will do everything in my power to go forward with our plans?" "What do you value enough that it will satisfy and assure us?" the Holly King asks. Lavinet purses her lips, deep in thought. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"What about Clara or Pendric?"' 'whatabout6clara'>><<setlavinet -5>><<set $nobles -= 5>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setloyal -3>><<setcharisma -1>><</link>></li> <<if $cunning gte 50 or $compassionate lte 40>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"What about Isolde or Auberon?"</div>' 'whatabout6isoldeor'>><<setlavinet +3>><<setcunning +2>><<setcompassionate -8>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">"What about Isolde or Auberon?"</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $compassionate gte 70 and $courage gte 50>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I volunteer. You can keep me as insurance until Lavinet reaches out and proves she\'s working towards the unity you seek."</div>' 'ivolunteer6youcan'>><<setcompassionate +5>><<setcourage +5>><<setlavinet +3>><<setloyal +2>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">"I volunteer. You can keep me as insurance until Lavinet reaches out and proves she\'s working towards the unity you seek."</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $charisma gte 50>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"She doesn\'t need to offer you anything. If she doesn\'t keep her word, you\'ll just attack Lockwood and destroy the city, anyway. That\'s reason enough for her to see these plans through."</div>' 'fine1'>><<setcharisma +3>><<setlavinet +3>><<set $nobles += 5>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">"She doesn\'t need to offer you anything. If she doesn\'t keep her word, you\'ll just attack Lockwood and destroy the city, anyway. That\'s reason enough for her to see these plans through."</div>'>><</link>><</if>> </ul>

A hostage or two seems like the perfect solution: the Elementals will know that Lavinet will definitely keep her word, and she will be definitely motivated to do so. However, Lavinet glares at you, as if horrified by your suggestion. "Absolutely not," she says in a stony way. "I will not offer up my friends like sacrificial lambs." "We can do it," Clara puts forward then, her voice very quiet. "If it will benefit you and Lockwood." "<i>No</i>," Lavinet says again. She turns to the Elder Council. "And, in fact, I realize that my city itself is the only prize I need to offer. You and I both know that if I don't keep my word, you will be free to attack Lockwood and destroy it in an attempt to reclaim the Landsmeet. That's reason enough for me to see our plans through, isn't it?" The Elder Council members glance at each other, then nod. <<include "fine1">>

Lavinet's lips twitch. "As much as that appeals, I do not think it work," she says lightly. "You would never get them to agree to it, and likely their home fiefdoms will see it as an act of kidnapping and war." "I don't think you need hostages, anyway," Briony points out then. "The very situation calls for Lavinet's cooperation. If she doesn't follow through with this peace agreement, you'll likely attack Lockwood and destroy it, anyway. So she's already motivated to see things through. If she reneges, she knows the consequences." The Elder Council members glance at each other, then nod. <<include "fine1">>

Lavinet smiles at you. "Thank you for your noble offer, <<c rank>> <<c surname>>, but I don't think that will be necessary. We should not begin our peace efforts with hostages and mistrust. I already know the consequences of reneging on my promise. If I don't see through our plans here, the Elementals may attack Lockwood and destroy it, anyway, resulting in deaths on both sides. That alone is enough to guarantee my cooperation." The Elder Council members glance at each other, then nod. <<include "fine1">>

"I suppose you're right," Umbris Arcterius grumbles. "Fine, then. We will meet you again soon, Lady Naveen. And if you must contact us, simply speak it into the wind, and we will hear." They vanish not long after, in a whirl of leaf and flame and water and wind. Only the stone table remains, the only proof you ever sat with beings you didn't know existed until just a handful of hours before. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "fine1i">><</link>></center>

Later, on your way home, Clara turns to address her mistress. "Are you sure about this, Lavinet? Do you really think we can broker peace with the Elementals? Have them move in with us into Lockwood?" "You can never be quite sure of anything, darling," Lavinet returns, as easily as if you had all just been out for a summer picnic. Then she throws a look at you, her expression catlike and a little sly. "But you know me: I am a gambling woman. I like to take a chance on the impossible." "I take it you mean us," you say dryly. "And the risk you took in calling us here." "Yes, darling, and look at the results!" Lavinet looks up to examine the darkening sky, the many invisible eyes you imagine watching from up there. "Now we must look forward to what comes next," she murmurs after a moment, half to herself. "But if we can accomplish our goals—if we can achieve what no one else has before—" She smiles and looks at you. "The possibilities are limitless. And I prove that I always make good on my bets." <<include "endchapter6">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "elementalswari">><</link>></center>

Negotiations break down soon after that, and the Elders quickly withdraw, declaring their need to regroup and discuss their next course of action. You saddle your mounts, your gut thrumming with a tense, nervous energy, as if violence might explode through the copse at any moment. Your $mainweapon seems to sing in its holster. Nothing happens, but your friends look tense and angry as you begin to nudge your ahfuri and horses back in the direction of Lockwood. The Elementals you saw before are nowhere to be seen, though you don't know if that bodes well for you. Lavinet doesn't speak to you for the rest of the journey home, radiating a chill and angry distrust as she looks straight ahead from her seat on her horse. After a protracted, awkward silence and several minutes of watching darkness fall, Briony says quietly, "What are you going to do now, Lavinet?" For a moment, it almost seems as if the aristocrat won't answer her: perhaps she blames the others for what you said, as well. But finally she stirs and says, "I am not sure it will actually come to war. From the way they talked, I'd guess their numbers amount to less than one thousand. They won't risk an all-out assault. Not right away, not after we've talked." Then she shrugs. "Still. We must prepare. Keep the farmers and refugees within Lockwood's walls for the duration of this stalemate, until we know their next move. Keep the aristocrats here, as well. We'll need to build up our defenses; then we can only wait and see." To you, she says, without looking away from the road ahead: "Your role in these events is done, <<c rank>> <<c surname>>. Once we explain events to my father, you will be free to go home." You wait for her rebuke, for the tirade that you know is coming as a result of your betrayal, but only frosty silence follows. "I think we should stick around," Ayla puts in then, glancing at the others for confirmation. Briony nods, while Tallys looks away. "It wouldn't feel right to just leave you, at least not without knowing if things really are going to come to violence, or not." <<nobr>><<if $nobles lt 30>> <br><br> "How can we trust that you are not acting as their spy, now?" Lady Summerfield asks then, gesturing pointedly at you. "Since you've clearly taken their side. You may be a bigger liability than you are an asset." <br><br> "<i>I</i> didn't fuckin' say it," Ayla mutters. <br><br> <</if>><</nobr>> Lavinet doesn't look at her, either. <<nobr>><<if $rusesucceed is false>> Off in the distance, you hear the sound of distant hoofbeats pounding like wardrums. It sounds like Lavinet's father has discovered her absence and sent riders after you, after all. You grimace. Just another complication in an already-tangled mess. However, Lavinet takes no heed of the sound, looking grimly resigned, as if she's already been through the worst. <</if>><</nobr>> "You may do whatever you like," she says dully. The back of her auburn head is unreadable in the gathering dusk. "But if you choose to stay, it will be a long and tiresome waiting game." She adjusts her lance on her arm, looks towards the shadows leaping towards you on the horizon. "Now we must prepare for war." <<include "endchapter6">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "elementalsleavei">><</link>></center>

Talks break down soon after that, and before you know it, the Elementals are excusing themselves and taking their leave. They don't say explicitly what they plan to do next—not that you would really expect them to—but from their defeated air, you would guess they're planning to withdraw, perhaps even head to parts unknown. Lavinet watches them disappear in a whirl of air and tattered leaves with an expression of muted sadness on her face. You wonder if this will be the last time you see an Elemental again. "I wish we could help them," she sighs afterward, once you've saddled your mountsand are heading home. "But there was nothing to be done, no action we could have taken without risking my people and their wellbeing. I can only hope they'll stay true to their word and leave us in peace, rather than belatedly realizing they'd like to risk attacking us, anyway." "I think <<c firstname>> did a good job of turning them off the prospect," Briony says kindly. "They know there's little to be gained from attacking you, now that you've gotten a chance to meet them face-to-face." Lavinet glances at you and smiles a little. "I think so. Thank you for your help, <<c firstname>>. Now, hopefully, this will be the last time they encroach on our lands—and I can turn to seeing the refugees back to their homes, and focus on rebuilding now that the attacks are over. Maybe the other aristocrats will be able to return to their own lands, too." "What do you think the Elementals will do?" Tallys asks then, her voice devoid of emotion or judgment. Lavinet looks away. "I can't say," she says distantly. "Perhaps this will be the last we see or hear of them." She glances at you, then away. "One never knows what the future will hold. We can only keep moving forward. We can waste time wondering when we're dead." You look towards the gathering clouds on the horizon, wondering if the Elementals will have that luxury, too. <<include "endchapter6">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "thewordofpoweri">><<set $lockwood to "new">><<if $rusesucceed is false>><<setreputation -10>><<set $nobles -= 25>><<else>><<set $nobles += 10>><<setreputation +5>><<setlavinet +10>><</if>><</link>></center>

First, you have to find an area that doesn't encroach on Lockwood's borders, and is secluded enough that it can't be intruded upon by random passerby and nosy explorers. Luckily, with a host of Sprites and Sylph Wind Scouts at your command, it doesn't take long to ascertain the perfect place a few hours' ride from Westin's Field. <<nobr>><<if $rusesucceed is false>> You're saddling your mounts, having fed and watered them while you met with the Council, when you suddenly hear the drum of distant hoofbeats on the ground. <br><br> Tallys immediately kneels to touch the ground with the tips of her fingers, closing her eyes. "Guards from Lockwood," she breathes. <br><br> A Wind Scout appears in a flurry of leaves and dust, squeaking something incomprehensible to Nephele. Xe makes a twist of displeasure in the air. "Ten riders," xe says. "Following your tracks from the town. They'll be here within ten minutes." <br><br> Lavinet's eyes are widen. "Oh, no," she says. "They must have discovered our absence—they'll be furious, and if they catch us here—" <br><br> "They may attempt to strike us down before you can explain," Lady Anae says grimly. <br><br> Ayla's eyes rove all over the copse as she puts her hand on her wind-staff. "What do we do? This is our best chance to see if <<c firstname>>'s power will work… We can't let them catch us." <br><br> "That is the benefit of working with those made of the wind and air itself," the Holly King rumbles. "Leave your mounts. We go to the Skymother." <br><br> Before you can even respond, the Air Elementals descend on you, mere wisps of wind and fog that turn into a frightening, boiling swarm of movement and energy. You're buffeted this way and that—you hear Briony cry out your name, feel Tallys knock into you with a gasp—and then you're lifting up, up, into the air— <br><br> And then you're gone. By the time the Lockwood guards ride into the copse, they find nothing but an empty stone slab and your ahfuri, gazing at them patiently as if they'd walked there all by themselves. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "theelder6councilsilent">><</link>></center> <<else>> <<include "theelder6councilsilent">> <</if>><</nobr>>

The Elder Council is silent for the duration of the journey north, saying nothing as you travel to a lone mountain peak tucked a little inside Thielwood. The mountain's face is so sheer that very few travelers would ever naturally want to climb it, and even if they did, there would be ample time for lookouts to spot them from the top. <<nobr>><<if $angant gte 50>> Angant Hainn <<else>> Lady Anae <</if>><</nobr>> assures you that while it would be easy to blow them right off the mountain, the Elementals will refrain and simply warn them away from the area. Before you know it, you're standing at the top of the mountain peak, which is aptly called the Empty Summit, according to Tallys. There is a huge crater at the summit's mouth, apparently made by some kind of ancient meteor or falling star. The carpet of trees slope down into the crater's center, which is where the Elementals guide you to stand. This concavity, they assure you, is both private enough and large enough to serve as a suitable gathering place for their people. You hope that's true. You don't think you'll get a second shot at trying this. You close your eyes, listening to the wind whispering through the trees; the lapping of water somewhere, and the fluttering of the flames coming from Umbris Arcterius and Angant Hainn. That hot itch inside of you has migrated down from a knifepoint between your brows, to your throat, to the cavity above your heart. Light seems to fill your gullet every time you try to speak; it feels like something is physically stuck there, caught halfway up your windpipe, as if you've swallowed an overflowing starburst. It's a confusing, dizzying sensation. <i>I can do this</i>. The thought comes to you unbidden. You can pull up the Landsmeet out of the ground, out of the fabric of time and reality itself, like pulling on the root of something half-buried and unearthing it. It's not a question, you think, of whether you can. You just wonder whether you should. And what will happen to you if you do it. What will happen to the world. How does it fall to you, to single-handedly decide the fate of a long-lost people? And why aren't the Voices saying anything—rebuking you for going against the Words' purpose, or giving you permission to use them in this way? It occurs to you that you haven't heard them in quite a while. Are they gone for good? And when exactly did they withdraw from you? Lavinet touches your elbow with one gloved hand. The light above you is beginning to wane, now, the eerie golden glow of the sky shifting to something burning and orange and acrid. "You don't have to do this, <<c firstname>>," she says quietly. "You've already done enough." You feel the eyes of the Elder Council on you. You can tell they don't quite believe what's happening, but they're rapt with attention, regardless. It's strange to see people so comprised of motion and life standing so very still. Behind them, the sky churns and mills with all of the other Elementals you can't see. There must be hundreds, maybe even thousands of them. Hard to believe that they were all slumbering under your feet, not so long ago. Maybe the Landsmeet is like that, you think. Asleep under the earth somewhere, but not dead. You take a breath, but whatever you're about to say to Lavinet—a reassurance, a command—is lost, because there's a brand on your tongue, burning and heavy, and light is spilling out of your mouth, choking you. You can't breathe, for a hot, dizzying moment; the world narrows as everyone else looks at you, oblivious. You cannot think. Your cheeks and nose flare with heat. And then—you say it, or spit it, like so much blood on the ground, or the Word itself falls out of you. It lands on the earth, on the grave of this dead star, like a seed, and the light grows rapidly from there, spreading out and under like a network of hungry roots. No one sees it but you. Your head goes blank and dark and empty. The last thing you see before you fall over is the light on the ground blazing, the sky so alight with it that the fire of the sun is washed out into pale blue. It's like looking up into a vast mirror, you think. A reflection of a time that no longer exists. Darkness overtakes you, floods you, burns you alive. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "elder6silenti">><<set $godspeaker -= 1>><</link>></center>

<center><div class="dot"> <<timed 1s t8n>> ... <<next>>... <<next>>... <</timed>><span class="next">[[Next|elder6silentii]]</span></div></center> <<timed 5s>><<goto "elder6silentii">><</timed>>

<span class="splash">Some Time Later</span><span class="splashblur"></span>When you wake up again, it's a sennight later, and the Elementals are nowhere to be found. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "elder6silentiii">><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<romancecalc>><<friendshipcalc>> <<if ($tallyssex is true or $tallysromance is true) or ($highestfriendship is "tallys") or ($tallys gte $lavinet and $tallys gte $briony and $tallys gte $ayla and $tallys gte 70) and ($tallyshate is false)>> Tallys is sitting beside you, and upon finding you awake she immediately kneels and presses your fingers to her forehead, murmuring a fervent prayer. "<i>Praise be to the gods</i>," she breathes from the floor, in a broken, trembling voice. "You've been asleep for a sennight: I was so concerned…" <<elseif ($briony gte $lavinet and $briony gte $ayla and $briony gte $tallys and $briony gte 65) or ($brionyromance is true) or ($brionyromanceflag gte 15 and $highestromance is "briony") and ($brionyhate is false)>> "Thank the gods," Briony breathes, leaning forward to throw her arms around your neck. "Could you please never do that again? I was scared <i>witless</i>—" <<elseif ($aylaromance is true) or ($highestromance is "ayla" and $aylaromanceflag gte 15) or ($ayla gte $briony and $ayla gte $lavinet and $ayla gte $tallys and $ayla gte 60) and ($aylahate is false)>> Ayla is leaning over you, peering into your face with wide, concerned eyes, and when she sees you stir, she collapses back into her chair with a loud groan of relief. "Thank the gods," she breathes, passing a trembling hand over her forehead. "I thought for sure you'd never wake up. Glad to have you back in the world of the living." <<else>> Lavinet sits back into her chair at your bedside with a sigh, fanning herself furiously with a dark blue fan. "I'm so relieved," she sighs, looking quite distressed. "You've had me tearing my hair out over this last sennight, <<c firstname>>, you really have. I wasn't sure you were ever going to wake up." <</if>><</nobr>> You look around. You're in an infirmary of some sort, back in the Lockwood estate judging by the sconces on the wall and the Naveen rose insignia on your pillows. You croak… <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Water." You\'re desperately parched.' 'your6companion'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"What happened?"' 'what6happened'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"The Landsmeet? Did it work?"' 'thelandsmeet6did'>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

"Hang on a minute," she says softly. "Let me summon the physicker." <<include "your6companion">>

"Hold on a moment," she says softly. "Let me summon the physicker." <<include "your6companion">>

Your companion hurries to pour you water, and in the meantime, the others hurry into the room, showering you with all manner of exclamations and cries of relief and delight. A servant brings you a tray of dry toast with salted butter and jam. "We had to carry you all the way back here," Ayla informs you, sitting down on the side of your bed with more gentleness than you're used to from her. "It was a madhouse, <<c firstname>>. You dropped to the ground like a dead $woman. And then the ground <i>split open</i>, and we damn near fell into it—" "Your nose was <i>gushing</i> blood," Briony continues excitedly, like she's recounting a particularly thrilling part of a race. "And yes, if Ayla hadn't acted fast and lifted us all up on a cushion of air, I think we would have been crushed. Because there was this great huge <i>tree</i>—" "A tree?" you ask, bewildered. "Yes! An enormous tree as tall and broad as a huge hill, with silver bark and leaves made of gold—the Holly King wept when he saw it—" "Apparently that sort of thing hasn't been seen in millennia," Tallys cuts in, smiling at you. "And beneath its shade was… was…" "A new Landsmeet," Lavinet says then, pressing her hand against your forearm. "Against all odds, you did it, <<c firstname>>. You <i>did it</i>. You gave the Elementals back their home!" <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "your6companioni">><</link>></center>

<<achieve "achieve_fromashes">><<notify_achievement "From Ashes" "Restored the Landsmeet and the Elementals back to their former glory.">><<set $ilvos to true>>Your teammates spend the next hour or so explaining the fiefdom's state of affairs to you. The Elementals were so overjoyed that they immediately got to work setting up a base of operations in the new Landsmeet, and have been busy doing that ever since. For your actions in helping them, they've signed a Covenant with Lockwood swearing not to harm its citizens unless the day should come that those citizens ever attack—in short, they've sworn to only ever act in self-defense, but will otherwise leave Lavinet's people alone. They've also agreed to take part in the rebuilding efforts, as thanks for your actions and as atonement for their own. "And they've got something in store for you," Ayla adds, folding her arms. "Angant Hainn was designated their envoy between their people and ours. He's coming to talk to you, and to give you something. They're calling you something now—what was it, Tallys?" "<i>Ilvos</i>," the Elf answers with a mysterious smile. "It means Champion of Light, or the Light that Burns Eternal. I suspect they'll be extending an offer of alliance to you specifically, and perhaps to the Shepherds as well." You take this all in, dazed. <<include "aftermathwop">>

<ul class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("sotheword6of")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"So the Word of Power truly worked? The Landsmeet has everything they need?"</div>' 'sotheword6of'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("whatsgoing6onwith")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"What\'s going on with the nobles? Lavinet\'s father?"</div>' 'whatsgoing6onwith'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("ami6okay")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"Am I... okay?"</div>' 'ami6okay'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("ivebeen6asleep")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"I\'ve been asleep for a week? Has the Order been informed of everything?"</div>' 'ivebeen6asleep'>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link 'Suddenly, someone else enters the room.' 'youlook6up'>><</link>></li> </ul>

You'd expected you would need more planning, more description from the Elders to understand how to utilize the Word of Power and bring back the Landsmeet. It all happened so abruptly, almost without you realizing it, that you're surprised the final product sounds so complete. Ayla shrugs. "We didn't get too close a look at it, but it sounds like it's all there. They didn't let us see, but they did a ritual and they brought the Holly King's brother, the Oak King, back. I think they used a sapling or something. So I guess it works. And I saw the lake, and this big gout of fire…" "I saw the rainbow zephyr," Briony exclaims excitedly, her eyes shining. "And oh, it was so <i>beautiful</i>, but I only got a glimpse before Angant Hainn made a screen of fire and said we weren't allowed to lay eyes on it. The nerve of them, when you were the one who made it—" "Perhaps they'll allow you to see it with your own eyes, once you've recovered," Tallys offers. "I know it's sacred ground, but they can't exactly deny <i>you</i>: you are that ground's new maker. I'm sure they'll agree you deserve to see the results of your own work and sacrifice. You may just have to keep what you see a secret." "But you'll have to tell us, of course," Briony puts in. "I'm dying to know how they make their babies." <<include "aftermathwop">>

<<nobr>><<if $rusesucceed is true>> "Well, he wasn't exactly happy when we got back, but because he didn't even realize we were gone, he wasn't stewing in it the whole time," Ayla answers. "Lavi was able to talk him down <i>before</i> he could have a full-blown shit fit. Showed him the whole thing's been resolved, and he had nothing to worry about. So he's good." <br><br> <<if $nobles gte 70>> "Isolde and Auberon aren't very happy," Lavinet adds brightly. "But the others have been singing your praises. Lady Summerfield swears she'll name her first child after you." <<else>> "Isolde and Auberon aren't very happy," Lavinet adds brightly. "But we'll take care of that in due time." <</if>> <<include "aftermathwop">> <<else>> They all look at Lavinet, who smiles ruefully. "Well," she begins slowly. "He was… not happy. They discovered our ruse early, of course, and came rushing out to meet us, only to find us completely vanished—spirited away by the Elementals. That was… not a good impression for them to have. My father nearly had a heart attack—he was beside himself. We barely talked him down from throwing the rest of you in chains." <br><br> Briony huffs, folding her arms. "If they'd tried that after <<c firstname>> fell into a damn <i>coma</i> trying to resolve this problem, I think we would have leveled this place ourselves." <br><br> "I'm aware of that, my dear, which is why I've worked so hard to talk him off that ledge. He is still very angry, though. I knew that that was inevitable—how could he tolerate his eldest daughter running off behind his back, making decisions that would affect the fiefdom without him?" Lavinet shrugs carelessly. "But, well, it's a small price to pay. The Elementals are happy, and Lockwood is safe. I don't regret a thing." <<include "aftermathwop">> <</if>><</nobr>>

You feel the usual hollowness in your chest from losing a Word, but otherwise, you feel fine. Tired and achy, but otherwise fine. Tallys nods. "The best physickers and healers have taken a look at you," she says. <<nobr>><<if $godspeaker lt 7>> "It is as before. There's nothing wrong with you physically—you only slept for a long time, and seemed unable to wake up. But there is no injury." <<else>> "There's nothing wrong with you physically—you only slept for a long time, and seemed unable to wake up. But there is no injury." <</if>><</nobr>> "And your magic feels the same," Briony adds. "I think you'll be just fine with some rest. I'm still amazed that you were able to pull it off." <<include "aftermathwop">>

"I sent back a letter the day you fell unconscious," Tallys answers. "They may have received it by now, if there were no obstacles on the road. Doubtless they won't be surprised that you've managed to accomplish yet <i>another</i> miracle." <<nobr>><<if $aro is false and $aroace is false>> <<if $highestromance is not "briony" and $highestromance is not "tallys" and $highestromance is not "ayla" and $highestromance is not "lavinet" and $highestromance is not "">> <br><br> "Don't worry, we made sure to stress to <<c highestromance>> <i>exactly</i> how heroic you've been," Briony adds with an exaggerated wink. "That will be a passionate reunion!" <br><br> Tallys nudges her, but she's smiling—she looks happier and more relieved than you've seen her in a long time. "Don't tease <<c firstname>> too much," she admonishes. "<<c she>> just woke up from a week-long coma." <br><br> Briony mock-pouts. "But that's just the sort of thing that would cheer $them up!" she squeals, with another wink to you. <<include "aftermathwop">> <<else>> <<include "aftermathwop">> <</if>> <<else>> <<include "aftermathwop">> <</if>><</nobr>>

You look up to find Lord Galbert Naveen standing before you, his hands clasped behind his back and his expression grave. For a moment, you simply stare at this powerfully-built, stout man staring down at you… <<nobr>><<if $rusesucceed is true>> And then he does the most shocking thing. <br><br> He bows to you. <br><br> <i>You</i>, a Shepherd officer, and he a Norm lord. <br><br> He says, very simply: "Thank you, <<c rank>> <<c surname>>. Lockwood owes you a great debt. We look forward to the opportunity to pay it back whenever we can. Whatever you need, whatever you ask, I will do my best personally to provide it." He pauses, then adds awkwardly, still addressing the ground: "The Shepherds are lucky to have you." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Gesture nervously. "Please, Lord Lockwood, please stand. This isn\'t necessary."' 'hedoesnt6look'>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setbriony +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Nod seriously at him. "I am glad I could have been of service."' 'hedoesnt6look'>><<setloyal +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Stare stonily at him. "Now, I hope, you\'ll begin treating others like me with the respect we deserve."' 'hedoesnt6look'>><<setcourage +1>><<set $nobles -= 5>><<setlavinet -3>><<settallys +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Smirk. "You\'re damn right they\'re lucky."' 'hedoesnt6look'>><<setcharisma +1>><<setcunning +1>><<setayla +1>><</link>></li> </ul> <<else>> After another moment of intense staring, he speaks. <br><br> "I cannot say that I am very happy with the way that you and your officers handled this case," Lord Lockwood says. "But perhaps that is my fault. I did not summon you here, nor communicate with you much, so I could not have expected you to have kept me involved in your plans. So my daughter tells me. I still believe there is a certain respect to be paid to the lord of the fiefdom you are hired by…" <br><br> "Father," Lavinet says softly. <br><br> "…but this is a matter that can be resolved another time. For now, I extend my thanks to you, <<c rank>> <<c surname>>." He nods, though his eyes remain frosty. "I'm told that you single-handedly solved our problem, fended off our enemies, and earned us new allies. It will take some time to get used to this new reality, but… thank you. I will ensure that your Order is well-compensated for your actions here." <br><br> It seems that's about all you're going to get out of him, because he turns on his heel and marches out of the room before you can say another word. <br><br> Lavinet sighs and turns to you. "I'm sorry about that. He's still very angry about what we did—but he sees the results we achieved, too. Hopefully he'll come around." <br><br> "At least he's consented to let us celebrate a little," Briony puts in. "A special dinner, just for us. All the food and drink we could want." <br><br> "I wanted to make it more of a public feast," Lavinet says apologetically, "but with the fragile tempers and sore prides around the estate after our deception, I think it's better not to draw too much attention to ourselves by celebrating too raucously. And most of the other aristocrats are on their ways home, now that the roads are clear and we have the Elementals' Covenant reassuring us that they won't attack." <br><br> You blink. "A special dinner? When did you have time to plan that?" <br><br> Lavinet gives a little tinkling laugh and settles down on your bed, smoothing her skirts out with sly confidence. "You mean in between communicating with the Elder Council, shuffling the nobles safely home, and figuring out the logistics of relocating the refugees back to their farms and homesteads?" She smiles, eyes glittering. "My dear, a dinner is quite simple in comparison to all that." <br><br> "Don't forget all the messages back to the Shepherds," Briony sighs, "and fielding Angant Hainn, setting up perimeters around the new Landsmeet to keep it from being discovered or encroached upon… there is a lot of work to do here still." <br><br> Lavinet waves a hand. "Yes, but that's what comes next. For now—tonight—" She grins. "We <i>dance</i>." <br><br> <<include "endchapter6">> <</if>><</nobr>>

He doesn't look up. "My daughter has told me everything, from your exploits to your sacrifices. I won't even begin to ask you how you accomplished the incredible gifts you gave us and the… Elemental people. I only hope you'll grace us with your presence, and perhaps a few stories, at tonight's grand feast." You look around, seeing Briony's grin, Ayla and Tallys's smirks, and Lavinet's mischievous, slightly manic look. "You didn't really think your miracle would go uncelebrated, darling?" Lavinet asks you. "Between communicating with the Elder Council, beginning to shuffle the other nobles back to their proper places, and helping the efforts to rebuild Lockwood's surrounding lands and move the refugees home, I have been <i>planning</i>. This feast in your honor tonight is going to dazzle you." "It's going to put you right back in a coma," Ayla comments cheerfully. "I saw the drinks list." You sink back onto your pillows, feeling your stomach rumble at the prospect of a mountain of food. "This is all moving a bit fast, I think." "For you, but we've had a whole week of just waiting for you to recover," Briony says in a chipper voice. "Of course, there's still so much to do: Angant Hainn keeps pestering us with questions, the Elementals want to deliver some sort of gift, there's all sorts of logistics with reclaiming the farms and maneuvering around Isolde and Auberon…" "But that's everything that comes next," Lavinet says, patting your leg under the blanket. "Tonight, we <i>dance</i>." <<include "endchapter6">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>End Chapter</span></div></div>' "endchapter6screen">><</link>></center>

<div class="box"><span class="endchaptersummary"> <center><span class="heading">Chapter Summary</span></center> <br> <span class="bulleticon"><span class="fas fa-chevron-right"></span></span>&emsp; You received a missive from Lady Lavinet Naveen of Lockwood, a fiefdom south of Thielwood, asking you to investigate a mysterious series of attacks on her lands: attacks that seemed supernatural in nature, and which had driven many of her vassals out of their homes and into the sheltering walls of Lockwood, which also housed a number of aristocrats touring the countryside ahead of the social season. <br><br><span class="bulleticon"><span class="fas fa-chevron-right"></span></span>&emsp; With the stakes so high, you proceeded to Lockwood and commenced your investigation, fending off the barbed manuevers and court intrigue taking place between Lavinet, her political rivals, and her allies. <<if $sawisolde is true>> You were offered an opportunity by Lavinet's particular enemies, Lord Auberon Eddon (Lavinet's former would-be suitor) and his fiancé Isolde—to betray Lavinet by giving them the credit of summoning you, should your efforts in Lockwood bear fruit. <<if $auberonsnobles is false>> You rejected this offer, to their ire and dismay. <<else>> You secretly accepted this offer, though Lavinet doesn't know it yet. <</if>><</if>> <br><br><span class="bulleticon"><span class="fas fa-chevron-right"></span></span>&emsp; <<if $elementalsknow is true>> Through your investigation, you were able to deduce that the mysterious attacks pointed to the Elementals, a race of primordial beings thought to have gone extinct over eight hundred years ago. <<if $elementalguard is true>> As a result of your foresight, casualties were minimized when the Elementals proceeded to attack later that very same evening. <<else>> Your conclusions were later proven true when the Elementals attacked later that very same night. <</if>> <<else>> You weren't able to uncover much, which left you ill-prepared and caught off-guard when your foes—which turned out to be Elementals, a race of primordial beings thought to have gone extinct—attacked the estate later that very same night. <</if>> <br><br><span class="bulleticon"><span class="fas fa-chevron-right"></span></span>&emsp; <<if $lavinetkidnapped is false>> The Elementals aimed to kidnap Lavinet, but you were able to thwart their efforts and take your own prisoner: a Flameling named Angant Hainn. Your performance in the fierce battle earned the reluctant respect of the watching nobles. <<else>> The Elementals aimed to kidnap Lavinet, and nearly succeeded after she stepped in to help you during the battle. The resulting skirmish resulted in Lavinet being severely injured, and although she was quickly healed, the damage to your reputation and your relationship to the nobles was not so easy to repair. <</if>> <br><br><span class="bulleticon"><span class="fas fa-chevron-right"></span></span>&emsp; Upon interrogating your Flameling prisoner, you discovered that the Elementals have abruptly returned to the world after almost a millennia of hibernation. Disorientated and confused, they resurfaced in the Continent only to find that their ancestral home, place of governance, and sacred birthing site, the Landsmeet, was gone, and the fiefdom of Lockwood had been built on top of it during the centuries of their absence. Enraged, the Elementals attempted to reclaim their land by driving its Norm occupants away, as the Elementals are unable to resurrect their dead or birth new young without the Landsmeet. <br><br><span class="bulleticon"><span class="fas fa-chevron-right"></span></span>&emsp; After hearing Angant Hainn's story, Lavinet and your team decided to meet with the Elementals' leaders, the Elder Council, in a secret grove outside of Lockwood. <<if $rusesucceed is true>> With the help of your powers and abilities, you were able to cleverly engineer a way to spirit Lavinet out of her estate without her protective father discovering your absence and raising hell. <<else>> Although you attempted to spirit her away without her protective father discovering your absence, your ruse was ultimately discovered, further damaging your reputation and hampering your efforts to foster peace. <</if>> <br><br><span class="bulleticon"><span class="fas fa-chevron-right"></span></span>&emsp; During your meeting with the Elder Council, you ultimately decided to <<if $lockwood is "norms">>side with the Norm residents of Lockwood, telling the Elementals that they would have to find another solution to their problems. The Elementals have now disappeared, and where they'll go or what they'll do next, you aren't sure. <<elseif $lockwood is "elementals">>side with the Elementals, encouraging them to do whatever it takes to reclaim the Landsmeet... even if that means waging war. The current residents of Lockwood will be deeply displeased to hear this news. <<elseif $lockwood is "unity">> propose that both sides share the land, suggesting that both the Norm residents and original Elementals attempt to integrate and live together in harmony. Although it will be a tremendously complicated road, both forces have agreed to try the compromise... for now. <<elseif $lockwood is "new">> propose an extremely unorthodox solution: the Norms would keep Lockwood, while you created a new Landsmeet for the Elementals yourself. Although you've never used your abilities in such a generative manner before, it seems to have worked, saving the futures of both the Elementals and the Lockwoodians for now. As a result, new and hopeful peace now reigns in the region. <</if>> </span><span class="endchaptersummary2"></span></div> <br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "endchapter6levelup">> <<set $part to 7>> <<set $health to 100>> <<set $gold += 100>> <<set $numberofshepherds += 1>> <<set $lavinetjoin to true>> <<set $shepherdgold += 1000>> <<if $lavimoregold>> <<set $gold += 150>> <<set $shepherdgold += 500>> <</if>> <<if $halfname2 is "">> <<set $halfname2 to $firstname>> <</if>> <<if $halfname is "recruit">> <<set $halfname to $firstname>> <</if>> <<if $lockwood is "norms" and $nobles gte 50>> <<set $noblejoin to true>> <<set $army += 10>> <<set $resources += 1>> <<set $lavinetstatus to "She's grateful to you for siding with the Norms in Lockwood, and for your overall handling of the situation.">> <<set $tallystatus to "She's disappointed with how you handled the situation in Lockwood.">> <<set $aylastatus to "She was surprised by your actions in Lockwood.">> <<set $brionystatus to "She feels conflicted by your actions in Lockwood.">> <<elseif $lockwood is "elementals">> <<set $lavinetstatus to "She'll likely never forgive you for siding with the Elementals over her and her hometown.">> <<set $tallysstatus to "She was impressed by your conduct in Lockwood.">> <<set $brionystatus to "She's studying your conduct as a Shepherd to learn how to be a better officer.">> <<set $aylastatus "Your recent actions have given her a lot to think about.">> <<if $eldercouncil gte 5>> <<set $elementaljoin to true>> <<set $army += 10>> <<else>> <<set $elementalhalfjoin to true>> <<set $army += 5>> <</if>> <<elseif $lockwood is "unity">> <<set $lavinetstatus to "She's extremely grateful to you for helping to broker peace between Lockwood and the Elementals. She won't forget your actions soon.">> <<set $tallysstatus to "Your actions in Lockwood have given her a lot to think about.">> <<if $brionyhate is false and $natheoutcome is not "dead">><<set $brionystatus to "Her admiration for you grows every time you work together.">><</if>> <<if $aylahate is false>><<set $aylastatus to "She's more and more impressed by you as time goes on.">><</if>> <<if $eldercouncil gte 8 or $angant gte 50>> <<set $elementaljoin to true>> <<set $army += 10>> <<elseif $eldercouncil gte 5 or $angant gte 30>> <<set $elementalhalfjoin to true>> <<set $army += 5>> <</if>> <<if $nobles gte 70>> <<set $noblejoin to true>> <<set $army += 10>> <</if>> <<elseif $lockwood is "new">> <<if $nobles gte 70>> <<set $noblejoin to true>> <<set $army += 10>> <<set $resources += 1>> <</if>> <<set $elementaljoin to true>> <<set $army += 10>> <<set $lavinetstatus to "She's awed by your actions in Lockwood and won't forget what you did there anytime soon.">> <<set $tallysstatus to "There are few she respects more than you.">> <<if $brionyhate is false and $natheoutcome is not "dead">><<set $brionystatus to "Her admiration for you grows every time you work together.">><</if>> <<if $aylahate is false>><<set $aylastatus to "She's more and more impressed by you as time goes on.">><</if>> <</if>><</link>></center>

<<unset $clara>> <<unset $auberonknow>> <<unset $hug>> <<unset $aylakick>> <<unset $banditturn>> <<unset $dressedup>> <<unset $borrowedfromlavinet>> <<unset $lavinetweapon>> <<unset $lavifail>> <<unset $anganthealth>> <<unset $angantpower>> <<unset $defensenow>> <<unset $angantaskotherelementals>> <<unset $icespirit>> <<unset $elementalguard>> <<if $angant gte 50>><<achieve "achieve_burningman">><</if>> <<if $lockwood is "unity">><<achieve "achieve_unity">><</if>> <<if $rusesucceed is true>><<achieve "achieve_spiritedaway">><</if>> <div class="box"><span class="column-icon"><span class="endchaptericon"><i class="fas fa-coins"></i></span></span><span class="column-2"><span class="heading">Gold</span><br><<if $lavimoregold is true>>You gained 100 deucalions as part of your Shepherd's pay, plus an additional bonus of 150 deucalions from Lavinet as a result of your negotiations. The Shepherd coffers also received a hefty donation for seeing out this mission. <<else>> You received 100 deucalions as part of your personal Shepherd's pay. The Shepherd coffers also cashed the large cheque from Lavinet, as well. <</if>></span></div> <<if $angant gte 50 or $lockwood is "unity" or $rusesucceed is true>><div class="box"><span class="column-icon"><span class="endchaptericon"><i class="fas fa-trophy"></i></span></span><span class="column-2"><span class="heading">Achievements</span><br>You unlocked a new <span class="entrylink">[[achievement|Achievements]]</span>: <<if $angant gte 50 and $lockwood is not "unity" and $rusesucceed is false>><b>Burning Man</b>. <<elseif $lockwood is "unity" and $rusesucceed is false and $angant lt 50>><b>Know Not What We May Be</b>.<<elseif $rusesucceed is true and $lockwood is not "unity" and $angant lt 50>>Spirited Away</b>.<<elseif $angant gte 50 and $lockwood is "unity" and $rusesucceed is false>><b>Burning Man</b> and <b>Know Not What We May Be.</b><<elseif $angant gte 50 and $lockwood is not "unity" and $rusesucceed is true>><b>Burning Man</b> and <b>Spirited Away.</b><<elseif $angant lt 50 and $rusesucceed is true and $lockwood is "unity">><b>Spirited Away</b> and <b>Know Not What We May Be.</b><</if>></span></div><</if>> <div class="box"><span class="column-icon"><span class="endchaptericon"><i class="fas fa-heart"></i></span></span><span class="column-2"><span class="heading">Relationships</span><br>New companions have been added to your <span class="entrylink">[[relationships|Relationships]]</span> page.</span></div> <div class="box"><span class="column-icon"><span class="endchaptericon"><i class="fas fa-first-aid"></i></span></span><span class="column-2"><span class="heading">Health</span><br>Your health has been fully restored.</span></div> <<page_break "Proceed to Next Chapter" "startchapter7">>

/* *comment healer or enchanter - refugees *comment battle or wild mage - defenses - can find out that lavinet trained and learned to fight *comment conjurer or binder - scholars */

<<if settings.music is true>><<audio ":playing" fadeout>><<audio "wonder" volume 0.1 play>><</if>> <<fadein 10s>> <<fadeout 5s 8s>><div class="chapterlogo"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/logos/chaptercroplogo.png" alt="Shepherds of Haven"><center><span class="chapterglow">Chapter Seven</span></center></div><</fadeout>> <</fadein>> <<timed 13s>><<goto "chapter7begin">><</timed>><span class="next">[[Next|chapter7begin]]</span> <<set $toldlavi to false, $sherysdiary to false, $talkedto to 0, $talkedtoblade to false, $talkedtotrouble to false, $talkedtoshery to false, $talkedtoriel to false, $talkedtochase to false, $talkedtored to false, $talkedtohalek to false, $mimirproceed to false, $mimirproceed2 to false, $chaseroom to false>> <<set $thurlsdisguise to "">> <<set $kaidir to false>> <<set $faris to false>> <<set $bloodmorph to false>> <<set $saranaeclue to false>> <<set $thirtyearsago to false>> <<set $berendalspendant to false>> <<set $cavepartner to "">> <<set $asagattack to false>> <<set $triedtodivinemimir to false>> <<set $learnedmimirspast to false>> <<set $learnedkithma to false>> <<set $thurlshouse to false>> <<set $troublespoon to false>> <<set $namemeaning to "">> <<set $thurldead to false>> <<set $asaggone to false>> <<set $thurlsdeath to false>>

<<nobr>><<if $lockwood is "norms">> <span class="splash">Some Time Later</span><span class="splashblur"></span>What follows next is a strange and disembodied time as you return to Lockwood and begin the long process of helping the refugees move back to their homes. No one sees the Elementals again, but that doesn't stop paranoia and tension from brewing over the lengthening days and still-frigid nights. For a long time, the guards of Lockwood bristle whenever they feel a strong wind, and you see one or two civilians shuddering as they pass by tall, open flames. It feels as if the entire city is holding its breath… but the Elementals don't show their faces again. It should be a cause for celebration, and the citizens of Lockwood do smile at you, and some of the nobles shake your hand. <br><br> But it also feels a bit… funerary, a bit grim. To celebrate too wildly would feel like taking pleasure in someone else's misfortune. <br><br> Still, Lavinet smiles at you, and her friends kiss and bless you, and farmers toss stems of cracked wheat at your feet rather than hurrying away at the sight of you, as they did when you first arrived to the city. Tentative peace grips Lockwood once again… so you tell yourself that it was all worth it, and you try not to wonder where the Elementals will go. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "not7much">><<if $rusesucceed is true>><<set $nobles += 10>><<setreputation +5>><<else>><<set $nobles -= 10>><<setreputation -10>><</if>><</link>></center> <<elseif $lockwood is "elementals">> <span class="splash">Some Time Later</span><span class="splashblur"></span>What follows next is a tense and angry time as you return to Lockwood to deal with the fallout of your actions. Chaos reigns when the nobles discover what you've done, and that peace negotiations have effectively been halted forever. The Elementals have disappeared, and no attempt to find them again has borne fruit. The Lockwood guards barely manage to prevent riots and mass panic from breaking out in the streets… but after several reprisals and one hanging, things calm down enough for order to be installed once more. Lavinet—stressed, taut, exhausted—is left in a mire of things to do as the refugees outside of Lockwood settle in for the long haul, unable to return to their homes for fear of the Elementals' campaign against them; and the nobles withdraw from you, busying themselves with pretending to prepare for war. Weapons are gathered, and defenses are reinforced and bolstered, and for a while Lockwood is a flurry of activity, like a hive being shored up by ants. <br><br> Still, the Elementals don't show up. You think they might be gathering their strength, waiting to see how the situation unfolds. They can outwait their enemy, at least for now, and your presence in the city seems to deter them from attacking for the moment as they gauge their own position. So they don't show their faces… but that doesn't mean they aren't watching. For a long time, you carry a peculiar kind of ache in your chest. It feels as if the entire city is holding its breath. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "its7only">><<if $rusesucceed is false>><<setreputation -15>><<set $nobles -= 20>><</if>><</link>></center> <<elseif $lockwood is "unity">> <span class="splash">Some Time Later</span><span class="splashblur"></span>What follows next is a long and arduous ordeal as you begin the process of integrating the Elementals into Lockwood. There is, of course, the expected uproar, the long nights of arguing and the jeers in the street whenever you walk by, but Lavinet is as relentless and unyielding as a drill: it takes a long time and a lot of struggle, but eventually, shockingly, the resistance of the others begins to crumble beneath her ironclad, impassioned campaign. Even her father begins to grudgingly give in, threatened constantly by promises of violence and upheaval if he does not grant peace its fair chance. "You will go down in history as the man who stood in the way of peace and unity out of pride and ignorance," Lavinet threatens, and you watch as his resistance finally crumples, like so much sand before the sea. <br><br> You have to admit that you're impressed by Lavinet's weeks-long siege. If she were in put in charge of the Autarch's armies, you think she could have ended the Castigation within a matter of months, not years. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "thankfully7you">><<if $rusesucceed is true>><<set $nobles += 5>><<setreputation +5>><<else>><<set $nobles -= 10>><<setreputation -10>><</if>><</link>></center> <<else>> <<set $horn to true>><span class="splash">Some Time Later</span><span class="splashblur"></span>What follows next is a long and patient process as you begin the undertaking of recovering from your ordeal. Meanwhile, Lavinet and the nobles work hard to organize efforts to return the refugees to their homes, now that peace has been secured and further attacks are not forthcoming. The Elementals even help where they can, though they don't show their faces to the commonfolk much: it seems to be out of respect, since wounds are still fresh and the farmers and civilians they displaced don't take very kindly to being helped by the same people who drove them out of their homes in the first place. Mostly, their forces are busy tending to the new Landsmeet; you're told that a flurry of activity is seen on the mountaintop night and day, and that the Elementals resemble a swarm of ants building up their colony. Norms aren't allowed to approach the Empty Summit—now called Morinwë, or Rebirth Rise—but there are whispers that a precious few, including you, your team, Lavinet, and her descendants—will be granted formal permission to visit it someday. For now, you are told, it isn't yet ready… but reports about the number of Elementals occupying it swell each day. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "after7about">><</link>></center> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $rusesucceed is true>> Not much is said about the ruse you pulled on Lord Lockwood and his people, what you did to get Lavinet out of the estate and into the secret glade of the Elder Council. The trick wasn't even discovered until you returned, and by then, there were far more important things to worry about—and you get the sense that Lord Lockwood is just grateful that his daughter is safe and that you've seemed to have repelled the Elementals for now. He nods to you when you pass him in the estate halls, and even once or twice has smiled at you tightly—so whatever heated words he's exchanged with Lavinet about that day, he gives no indication that he bears any grudge against you. You can't help but feel relieved. A powerful noble like Galbert Naveen would have been a poor enemy to make, even if his daughter is in your debt. <<else>> The fact that you sided with the Norms is perhaps the only reason why Lord Lockwood doesn't have you thrown in chains upon your return to the city. For several days, his rage was apoplectic: the fact that you had the gall to use your skills to trick him and steal his daughter away from right under his nose is not an easy thing to forgive. You hear talk of reprisals, demands of compensation from the Shepherds, faint rumblings of even more drastic punishments from his advisors and peers, who, Lavinet refers to as "the old guard." But she fights tirelessly for your cause, and your decisions at the meeting with the Elder Council ultimately sway public opinion back in your favor. Briony looses a tense breath when Lavinet finally informs you that all is forgiven, and that your deceit will be brought up no more. <br><br> "I was not looking forward to a trial," the former gladiator groans, sagging against the low courtyard wall. "I've had enough of chains around my neck for a lifetime." <br><br> "It would never have gotten to that point," Tallys says, her eyes cold as she watches a pair of guards strolling past you in the arcade. "I would have killed everyone here before letting them take me captive." <br><br> You glance at Lavinet, but her face is like a painted theater mask. You think her eyes look red-rimmed, as if she's been crying—or it could just be from lack of sleep. For once, she doesn't have much to say in return. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "all7in">>

<<nobr>><<if $rusesucceed is true>> It's only because violence hasn't broken out, you think, that Lord Lockwood ultimately doesn't throw you in chains over your deceit concerning his daughter. It helps that he hadn't even realized the extent of your ruse until you returned… but any goodwill he may have had towards you was quickly eradicated by the news of your decision with the Elder Council. There is a lot of arguing, a lot of muttering from his old guard advisors and peers about reprisals, punishments, demands of compensation from the Shepherds. Lavinet vanishes into her work as Lockwood seems to prepare war: she doesn't have the time—or perhaps the desire—to speak up in your defense. In the end, it's only Tallys pointing out that the Lockwoodians have much bigger concerns to worry about at the moment that you escape any punishment. That, and the fact that the Shepherds are a well-armed military force sanctioned by the Autarchy, and conflict with them is the last thing Lockwood needs when the Elementals are lurking around. Ultimately, the nobles and Lord Lockwood go back to giving you the cold shoulder, barely even acknowledging that you exist. <br><br> "It's better than being put in the dungeons," Briony quips, but you find that that truth is little solace. <<else>> It's only because violence hasn't broken out, you think, that Lord Lockwood ultimately doesn't throw you in chains over your deceit concerning his daughter. His rage was apoplectic when he discovered that you had spirited her away, using your skills to steal her out from under his nose… and that rage, of course, was magnified tenfold when he discovered that you essentially betrayed his people to the Elder Council. For a very tense few hours, you actually ponder the possibility that you might have to fight your way out of Lockwood: while the lord and his advisors discuss your fate, Tallys gets a wild, tightly-suppressed look in her eye, Briony grips Gonturan so hard that her knuckles turn white, and Ayla paces enough to leave tracks in the plush carpet. It doesn't help that Lavinet vanishes into her work in preparing Lockwood for potential war: she doesn't have the time—or perhaps the desire—to speak up in your defense. For a moment, your fate looks bleak and uncertain. <br><br> There is a lot of arguing, a lot of muttering from Lord Lockwood's old guard advisors and peers about reprisals, punishments, demands of compensation from the Shepherds… And in the end, it's only Tallys pointing out that the Lockwoodians have much bigger concerns to worry about that ensures you escape any punishment. <br><br> "Well, that, and the fact that the Shepherds are a well-armed military sanctioned by the Autarchy, and conflict with them is the last thing the fiefdom needs when the Elementals are lurking at or within your borders," she says. "Because our people will certainly come for us, and you do not want to have two separate battlefronts to deal with." <br><br> Ultimately, the nobles and Lord Lockwood decide to let it go, and they go back to giving you the cold shoulder, barely even acknowledging that you exist. Relations between the Order and the northern aristocracy deteriorate badly, judging by Riel's reports from back home. <br><br> "It's better than being put in the dungeons," Briony quips, but you find that that truth is little solace. A tight, tense feeling hangs in the air, like a bowstring about to snap. <</if>><</nobr>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "all7in">><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<if $rusesucceed is true>> Thankfully, you don't need her influence to get her father to forgive you on the matter of using your skills to deceive him and steal Lavinet out from under his nose. Lord Lockwood didn't even notice that you were gone—your ruse worked perfectly—so he never had the proper time to get well and truly angry about the subject; and by the time he found out about the deception, he was handed much bigger things to worry about (namely, the sudden integration of the Elementals into Lockwood). Shockingly, he even nods grudgingly to you one afternoon, as you pass each other in the halls of the estate. <br><br> "I understand why you did it, <<c rank>> <<c surname>>," he says, apropos of nothing and staring straight ahead. "Thank you for keeping my daughter safe." <br><br> You don't get a chance to respond before he strides away… but it's a start. At least he doesn't have you thrown in chains. <<else>> It's also due to her influence that Lord Lockwood doesn't throw you in chains over the matter of spiriting his daughter out from under his nose. He'd discovered your deception early on, and had several hours to rage and pace and worry, working himself up into such an apoplectic wrath that he barely heard the news about the Elementals at first—he was so focused on seeing you punished. In the end, Lavinet convinced him that he had much bigger things to worry about—namely, the integration of several hundred new, supernatural citizens into his city—so you escaped punishment over your failed ruse… but from the way Lord Lockwood looks at you, you get the feeling he'll never forgive you for the slight. <</if>><</nobr>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "all7in">><</link>></center>

After about a week, Angant Hainn comes to visit you, alighting suddenly on the battlements of the estate and causing such a panic among the guard that you almost face yet another diplomatic incident—and it's not even time for breakfast. "You can use the front gate, you know," you say after you've been roused from your bed by several wild-eyed, babbling soldiers. Angant Hainn grunts. "Too confining," he says. "I prefer the open air." He's an interesting choice for a diplomat and envoy for his people, you think: as far as you can tell, Angant Hainn is as hot-headed and brash as the rest of his kind, probably more suited to being a warrior than an ambassador. It's possible that he was simply chosen because he's the Elemental who's had the most contact with the Lockwood citizens and Norms, following his capture—but you think it's probably more complicated than that. Perhaps his new position is one of high honor, a reward for some bravery or past deed that you're not aware of; conversely, perhaps it's a punishment. Either way, he seems content enough to be doing it, but he still has to work on his manners. At least he's polite enough to you. "How are you recovering?" he asks gruffly, folding his arms and looking around at the stone walls that surround you. Several guards stand out of listening range, watching him with their hands on their weapons, but he pays them no attention: he's gotten very cocky, following the creation of the new Landsmeet, though Ayla never hesitates to remind him just how badly you 'whooped his ass,' and how he'd do well to never forget it and stay humbled by his experiences. Angant Hainn didn't listen: you suppose the promise of eternal, reincarnated life will do that to an ego. <<nobr>><<if $intelligence gte 57>> <br><br> You've heard talk that Flamelings grow in stages: the ember stage is for younglings who stick close to home; the candle stage is for adolescents and is typified by nomadic, individualistic behavior, increased aggression, and a desire to travel extensively and live solitary, territorial existences; the blaze stage is considered the height of a Flameling's warrior years and the beginning of their maturity into leaders, the stage when they have a strong desire to return to and protect their homes and learn to work together as a community; the incandescent stage is when they become full-blown leaders, participate in councils and governance, settle in their lifelong pursuits, and begin families; and finally, there's the hearth stage, where they become respected, mature adults and later elders and advisors to the younger generation. <br><br> Angant Hainn, if you had to guess, is still somewhere around the blaze or incandescent stage, though this isn't something he's really specified to you himself. It's just his muted, still-somewhat-respectful arrogance that tips you off. You realize that he's still waiting for your answer and reply… <</if>><</nobr>> <ul class="choices"> <<if $strength gte 55>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I\'m better now. No lingering effects or anything like that."</div>' 'im7better'>><<setcourage +1>><<setstrength +1>><<set $angant += 5>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">"I\'m better now. No lingering effects or anything like that."</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link '"I\'m still easily tired. I find myself taking naps during the day, but other than that, no adverse effects."' 'im7still'>><<setcourage -1>><<setstrength -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"On the surface, I seem fine. On the inside, I\'m not so sure."' 'on7the'>><<setcourage -3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"What do you care? You got what you wanted; you don\'t have to pretend to be my friend."' 'what7do'>><<setcharisma -3>><<setcompassionate -5>><<set $angant -= 5>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Grunt. You\'re not inclined to discuss your health with him.' 'grunt7youre'>><<set $angant += 3>><<setcompassionate -1>><<setcharisma -3>><<setloyal -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

You rotate your shoulder experimentally. "No more weakness, either." Angant Hainn stares you down. "I would expect nothing less." His tone is approving in the Flameling way. <<include "interestingly7the">>

Angant Hainn grunts. "I suppose that's to be expected." He almost seems disappointed, though you couldn't say why. <<include "interestingly7the">>

He cocks his head, narrowing his eyes. "What do you mean?" You shrug, unable to articulate it better. You just can't shake the feeling that the more Words you spend, the more of yourself you give up. But you have nothing to back up that claim: just the loudening silence of the Voice inside your mind. And physically, you're in perfect health. "Forget it. Never mind." Angant Hainn doesn't argue with you; he just nods, accepting your non-answer. <<include "interestingly7the">>

Well, no one said you didn't need to work on your manners, too. Angant Hainn only shrugs off your rudeness, though. "Fine, then," he says in bored tones. "We are not friends: I ask because we are allies, and we rely on your strength." You scowl. "My strength is just fine." He nods. "I am glad to hear it." He says it with bald sincerity that surprises you, speaking without any irony. <<include "interestingly7the">>

The Flameling nods, as if he understands. He almost seems approving of your silence. <<include "interestingly7the">>

Interestingly, the Elementals have remained strangely incurious about the source of your incredible powers, few of them ever questioning how it was possible for you to do what you did or how exactly you created the new Landsmeet. Or if they are curious about it, they haven't exactly taken steps to convey that to you. They simply let you be: you wonder if it's simply their way, the way rivers run over rocks without stopping to question why the rocks are there in the first place. But as reticent and hands-off as they are, it seems that Angant Hainn has come to visit you for a specific purpose today. You notice that he's wearing some kind of pack around his waist, fashioned out of a tightly-woven, metallic fiber that almost looks like a pouch made of steel sheep's wool. Angant Hainn gingerly reaches inside the pouch and pulls out a bizarre, forearm-sized instrument, resembling something crossed between a war horn, an animal tusk, and a reed flute. It's a plain, worn thing, and clearly ancient: it's carved out of ivory bone, painted with faint, iridescent colors, and jangling with many tiny silver bells of varying sizes. Angant Hainn contemplates the instrument for a moment, with something close to the awe that he used when he spoke of the Landsmeet. Finally, he turns to you, clearing his throat and deepening his voice into a more formal tone. "This is the—" He says something in the Elemental tongue, in a voice that makes your ears buzz, then continues, "Anahera, in your tongue: the Horn of the Ancients, the Cry of the Elementals. It was carved from the bones of Shim the Giant, filled with the lungs of the great dragon king Zephaniel, painted with the ink-blood of the mother Leviathan, and strung with the bells of the angel Yrael. It is among our most precious artifacts." You start as he suddenly proffers you the horn. "This, we offer to you, Ilvos," Angant Hainn proclaims, looking deadly serious as his orange eyes bore into yours. "For you are the greatest friend to our people since the days of Saraneth. You granted us a home, renewed life; you have saved our people." He presses the horn into your hands. It's strangely light, almost like holding a piece of driftwood. The bells around the horn jingle lightly, and a kind of cool shiver passes through you at the sound. "Take care of this gift, Champion," Angant Hainn continues, grave. "Let no one else lay their hands upon it. For to blow into Anahera is to summon our people to your side within the hour: it is a war-call that we are bound by Covenant to always heed. With this horn, you will always have an ally in the Elementals. Our armies will march to you without delay; our greatest leaders will appear at your side at a moment's notice. But it is not a thing to take lightly. Of all the bearers who have ever held this horn, each has only had the opportunity to sound it once." You stare down at the long, twisting horn, gnarled and curled in your hands like the root of some ancient tree. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Why only once?" You try not to sound nervous.' 'why7only'>><<setcourage -1>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"What happens if I break it?" You\'re only half-joking.' 'what7happens'>><<set $angant -= 10>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"So I can summon you instantaneously in battle?" Your mind turns the idea over: this is a powerful weapon, indeed.' 'so7i'>><<setcunning +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"What are these bells? How do you put a dragon\'s lungs into a horn?" You can\'t help your curiosity.' 'what7are'>><<setintelligence +1>><<setcharisma -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Uh... sure. Thanks." Angels, Drakes, and Leviathans? He must be out of his mind.' 'he7nods'>><<set $angant -= 15>><<setcharisma -1>><<setcourage +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Thank you. This is an incredible honor, and one I\'ll take as seriously as my own life." You bow respectfully.' 'he7nods'>><<setcharisma +3>><<set $angant += 5>><</link>></li> </ul>

Angant Hainn narrows his eyes, considering. "I do not know," he admits. "The last bearer sounded the horn nearly a thousand years ago. I suppose they usually die in the ensuing battle. Or perhaps blowing it robs them of some strength." Great. "Um. Thank you." You cautiously tuck the horn away for safekeeping: you'll pack it with the utmost care among your things. <<include "he7nods">>

Angant Hainn is not amused. "It cannot be broken," he says flatly. "Others have tried and failed to cleave it. But you should still treat it with respect. Many have bled and died because of that horn." You nod and tuck the instrument away for safekeeping. "Thank you. I'll treat it with care." <<include "he7nods">>

You've considered it before, but the usefulness of the Elementals in warfare strikes you more powerfully now. The Air Elementals would make the perfect scouts, able to travel over and communicate over long-range distances; the Water Elementals would make the perfect saboteurs, denying enemy camps of clean water or ways to disinfect their wounds. The Earth Elementals would be the perfect spies: any rock, tree, or shrub could be an enemy waiting to eavesdrop on your conversation, or swallow you up in the earth itself. And the Fire Elementals would make the perfect ground troops, able to wage wide-scale destruction and devastation with ease. And most useful of all, none of them can really truly die. You could simply remake them over and over, never running out of soldiers… Angant Hainn puts a hand up, as if to physically stop your thoughts in their tracks. "Only once," he says again. "In a time of direst emergency. Anahera is yours to guard, Ilvos, but we will not tolerate carelessness when it comes to its use. We are not falcons to be called by your whistle to hunt your prey. We are people with our own lives, our own societies. Using the horn is asking us to drop everything to come to your aid: it must be a weighty decision on your part, a moment deserving of such urgency; but we trust you to make the choice when the time is right, if that time ever comes." He shakes his head. "Some of us would go with you, to aid you in the fight against the Endarkened, or even to join your Order. But we suspect that would only create more trouble for you…" And isn't that an accurate thing to say: you can't imagine the consternation you would meet if you showed up in Haven with a cadre of beings long thought to be extinct, who haven't even proven if they can live in such close quarters with humanity again. "…And we are too preoccupied with strengthening the Landsmeet, finding more of our people, building our numbers and civilization up again. It will take time: more time than we can spare to accompany you. But with the horn, we will always be ready to answer your call, should you need us." You nod and tuck the horn away for safekeeping: you'll pack it with the utmost care amongst your things. "Thank you. It's truly an honor to receive this symbol of alliance between us." <<include "he7nods">>

Angant Hainn shakes his head. "They are the bells of the angel Yrael," he repeats. "Each one performs a separate task when sounded: the smallest one is said to steal memories, the largest said to call the listener away into death. But they can only be played by those of Yrael's bloodline… so for now, they are bound to the horn for safekeeping, useless to anyone without the angel's blessing." He folds his arms. "As for the dragon king, I do not know. The creation of Anahera came long before my time." A question strikes you, then. "Have you ever been reborn through the Landsmeet?" That is to say—has he ever lived a past life? Angant Hainn scrutinizes you for a moment, then nods slowly. "This is my second life cycle," he says, grudgingly. It seems that as the savior of his people, he's obligated to answer many of your questions. "I was slain in battle long ago. My parents remade me in the—old Landsmeet." "Do you remember anything from before you died?" you ask. You know that remade Elementals are typically reborn in the Landsmeet as infants again; you've become increasingly curious about how that works. What if they had a family, children of their own? Wouldn't it be strange to be reborn to be the same age as your own child? Angant Hainn grumbles at your prying questions. "We don't remember our old existences," he says reluctantly. "Or very little: fragments and impressions only, recalled much later in life. But we generally retain the same personalities, the same characters, even if we have none of the same memories. It is very rare for someone to be a scholar in one life and a warrior in the next." "How do the people who knew you before you died cope?" you ask. "What if you had a spouse?" "Generally, they destroy themselves to be remade again, too," Angant Hainn says darkly. "In the hopes that they can be reunited with their loved one in the next cycle." You whistle. "That's… intense." He makes a vague, fiery gesture. "It is a complex thing. For the greatest of our kind, such as the Holly and Oak Kings, they can be remade exactly as themselves before they perished, fully-formed, retaining all of their memories and past experiences. However, to remake them so requires the sacrifice of many other souls, who will not carry on into their own remaking." "I see." After a moment of contemplating this, you tuck away the horn for safekeeping. "Well, thank you for telling me that: I'm sure it's not something that's often talked about. And thank you for this honor; I'll guard Anahera well." <<include "he7nods">>

He nods. "It is as the Elder Council wills," he repeats. "We trust that you will know when to call for us, should the time ever come." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "he7nodsi">><</link>></center>

Then he considers you for another moment. You resist the urge to look away from his fiery gaze, not wanting to blink or give an indication of acquiescence: you've discovered over the course of your interactions that the Flamelings seem to be regarded as some kind of predator species by the other Elementals—and predators who respect a show of force, at that. <<nobr>><<if $courage gte 55>> Angant Hainn seems to find something in your stare that he approves of, because he says, "Would you like to visit Morinwë? We thought it was time for you to see what you created, before you depart." <<else>> However, you find yourself wavering, and after a moment, you glance away. Angant Hainn makes a rumble low in his throat, unintelligible to you, before he says, "Come and visit Morinwë. We thought it was time for you to see what you created." <</if>><</nobr>> You blink. "Right now?" He gestures around at the air, which is presumably populated by hidden Wind Sprites or Sylphs who can bear you to the new Landsmeet. "It will not take much time." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Decline. "Some other time, perhaps." He can\'t just whisk you away whenever he wants.' 'decline7some'>><<set $angant -= 10>><<setcourage +3>><<fair_plus "$charisma" -10>><<setcunning +3>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setloyal -5>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Eagerly agree. "I would love that." You\'ve been burning with curiosity ever since you woke up.' 'gotolandsmeet'>><<setintelligence +3>><<setcharisma +1>><<setcourage +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Nod calmly. "Very well." You\'re interested, though it\'s not something you\'ve thought too much about.' 'gotolandsmeet'>><<set $angant += 5>><</link>></li> </ul>

Angant Hainn frowns, but eventually nods his acquiescence: he isn't exactly in a position to question you or your wishes. "As you say," he says reluctantly. "Though it seems you'll be leaving this place soon." You turn your eyes to the horizon. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Not soon enough."' 'the7flameling'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Eventually. There are still some things to wrap up."' 'the7flameling'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'ll be sorry to leave."' 'the7flameling'>><</link>></li> </ul>

The Flameling has nothing to say to that. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "all7in">><</link>></center>

He nods. "We ask that you don't speak of what you see there," he says as you clamber onto a kind of platform formed out of the wind; it tips beneath you like a boat for a moment, then settles, the Wind Sprites plucking at you and chittering mischievously. "We trust you, of course… but there are always enemies who could use the knowledge against us." You nod, sensing what an unspoken honor this is. Then again, you <i>are</i> the one who made the whole damn thing, so it makes sense that you would have the right to visit it. "I understand." Angant Hainn smiles, tightly, and then you're lifting up, up, up into the air, feeling like you're St. Clayr ascending her staircase to the heavens, your eyes so dazzled by the sun that they almost can't comprehend the wonders and miracles waiting to meet you. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "you7spend">><</link>></center>

You spend the day at the new Landsmeet, walking among shapes and sights not seen on this Continent since a thousand years before you were born. And when you return, you find that you can't breathe a word of what you've seen to anyone. It's like the Words of Power: too big for your lungs, too bright, too breathtaking. You try not to think about how it all came <i>from</i> you: how it feels like a piece of your soul, with all of its fractals and colors, has been laid against the world like a new map. It's <i>there</i>, and you know it as well as you know the back of your own hand. That's all you can really say. The rest is too much for words. The others understand, and Lavinet simply smiles and asks you what you want for dinner. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "all7in">><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<if settings.music is true>><<audio ":playing" fadeout>><</if>><</nobr>><span class="splash">A Few Weeks Later</span><span class="splashblur"></span>All in all, it takes about <<nobr>><<if $lockwood is "norms" or $lockwood is "new">> four <<elseif $lockwood is "elementals" or $lockwood is "unity">> six <</if>><</nobr>> weeks for things to settle down in Lockwood—at least enough for you to consider returning home. One day, you're sitting in a private parlor, enjoying an after-dinner <<nobr>><<if $charch is true>> smoke <<else>> talk <</if>><</nobr>> when Lavinet suddenly slips into the room unannounced. "A little bird tells me that you're thinking of returning to Haven," she says, settling gracefully in her pile of skirts on an armchair. Briony snorts. "Something tells me that you've got a whole army of birds around these parts, just waiting to tweet every passing bit of news into your ear." "So it's true, then?" Lavinet snaps her fan out across her mouth—you're beginning to piece the gestures together, and you know that she's being enigmatic. Discreet. She's up to something. Ayla, who'd been sticking her head out of the window to enjoy the night breeze, suddenly withdraws it and looks at the noblewoman. "It's about time, isn't it?" she asks. "We've been here long enough, and things at the Order are starting to require our attention. We've got our own squads, Tallys's third-in-command, <<c firstname>>'s <<c firstname>>…" "And I, for one, am starting to miss home," Briony puts in. "Your beds are lovely, Lavi, but I miss Shery, and Red and his books, and Trouble and Chase, and <i>everyone</i>—and I'm hankering for a new mission." "As am I," Tallys says, looking around at the gilded walls of the parlor with veiled dislike. Although she's learned to curb her tongue and even has begun to act semi-politely towards Lavinet, you don't think there will ever be any changing her feelings towards the Norm aristocracy in general. Every time some noble looks at her and laughs behind their fan, she looks like she wants to crawl out of her skin. As for you, you feel… <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '...eager to return home as well. You miss the others, too.' 'lavinet7taps'>><<setloyal +5>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '...excited for the next adventure. Lockwood has been interesting, but all of your missions have been unique. You can\'t wait for the next one.' 'lavinet7taps'>><<setcourage +3>><<setloyal +5>><</link>></li> <li><<link '...impatient to get a break and rest for a bit. You\'ve been away from Haven for too long.' 'lavinet7taps'>><<setcunning +1>><<setcourage -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '...a sense of dread when you contemplate all the things that must be piling up, waiting for your attention back home.' 'lavinet7taps'>><<setcunning +3>><<setloyal -5>><</link>></li> <<if $lockwood is not "elementals">><li><<link '...loath to leave Lockwood. You like the people here, and the lifestyle you\'ve been leading.' 'loath7to'>><<setcharisma +3>><<set $nobles += 1>><<setlavinet +3>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if ($lavinethate is false and $lavinet gte 50) or $lavinetromanceflag gte 7>><<link '<div class="choice-item">...sad to leave Lavinet. You\'ve grown close, and you\'ll miss her terribly.</div>' 'lavinet7taps'>><<setlavinet +3>><<if $gender is "male" and $lavinetromanceflag gte 5>><<set $lavinetromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">...sad to leave Lavinet. You\'ve grown close, and you\'ll miss her terribly.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link '...indifferent. You don\'t really care where you are, either way.' 'lavinet7taps'>><<setcharisma -3>><<setloyal -5>><</link>></li> </ul>

Fancy dinners, civil but barbed conversations, sophisticated and glittering clothes and friends… In another life, you would have enjoyed being a diplomat, or maybe even a politician… <<include "lavinet7taps">>

Lavinet taps her rose-petal fan against her painted lips in thought. Then she snaps it shut again and says decisively: "I'm going with you." You all turn to her. "<i>I beg your pardon</i>?" <<nobr>><<if $lavinethate is true>> She doesn't look at you. <<else>> She smiles. <</if>><</nobr>> "I'm going with you," she repeats again. "I am going to tender my application to become a Shepherd. In fact, I've already written to your Commander and made my formal request." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '<b><i>"What?!"</i></b>' 'she7just'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Are you insane?"' 'she7just'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Where is this coming from?"' 'she7just'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I think I misheard you."' 'she7just'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"...Oh!"' 'she7just'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You can\'t become a Shepherd."' 'she7just'>><<fair_plus "$lavinet" -10>><<if $lavinetromanceflag gte 1>><<set $lavinetromanceflag -= 5>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Good. It\'s about time."' 'she7just'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You did this without asking us?"' 'she7just'>><<setlavinet -3>><<set $lavinetromanceflag -= 1>><</link>></li> </ul>

She just smiles, cat-like. Tallys says, her tone unreadable: "What spurred this on?" <<nobr>><<if $lockwood is not "elementals" and $lavinethate is false>> <<include "proposals">> <<else>> <<include "lavihatesyoubitch">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Lavinet sighs, then rises to a reading desk in the corner of the parlor—you hadn't even realized that this was one of her many personal rooms—and opens one of its drawers, producing at least twenty thick, cream-colored envelopes from within its depths. All are sealed with dark blue wax, which means that they're… "Marriage proposals," Lavinet says, as if she's discussing tiresome gnats at a picnic. She lays the pile of letters on the tea table near your chair. <<nobr>><<if $intelligence gte 55>> You glance at the fine ink written on some of them and catch low-tier names, some of a pedigree undeserving of Lavinet's. <<else>> You don't recognize any of the names, but then again, these are nobles: why would you know their many names? <</if>><</nobr>> "They've been arriving by the cartload—literally. I would have thought the disaster of recent events would have at least deterred the majority of my suitors, give them cause to detach themselves from my name and the situation—but instead, all of this has beckoned a new breed of them. Vultures, Pendric calls them. Men from very mediocre houses, some so minor that it is almost insulting that they would even consider proposing. They think my present situation is so unfortunate that they can swoop in and claim the prize at a very low price, because I must be desperate to marry anyone willing to associate with me while I still can. A bargain bride." She moves to a glittering bar cart and pours herself a glass of wine, draining it quickly and making a face as if she finds it sour. You've noticed that she's been drinking alcohol more—or perhaps she always did, and you simply didn't pay attention. "What's worse is that my father seems just as keen to answer them. <i>He</i> wants to be rid of me, of course: the shame and scandal I have wrought on our household is unimaginable." She trails off for a moment, her eyes blank and glassy, while Briony shifts, looking uncomfortable, and even Tallys's face twitches into a grimace of sympathy. Then she stirs and continues, "I shall be married off to some bland, dim-witted, poor fourth son within the month, unless I can find some way to avert my fate. If I reject them en masse, I only make things worse, for both myself and for my sisters and their prospects. But I cannot marry someone I don't…" Her voice fades, faint and a little hopeless. "What will you do?" Ayla asks then, her brow furrowed. Lavinet blinks for a moment, then smiles, grim now. "I will gamble." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "lavi7hates">><</link>></center>

"There are really only three ways to get out of this situation," she continues. "The first: I pick a fiancé, insist on a long engagement, and find some way to break it down the road. This is the least viable option, not least because of the scandal it will cause in court when I eventually spurn my betrothed." "The second: I do something so awful, so damaging, that I become total anathema, even to the most marriage-desperate souls. While effective at preventing any betrothals, it also essentially causes the exact thing I'm avoiding: more shame to my family. So that option is out, too." She pats her lips with a lilac handkerchief conscientiously, and you see the cloth come away with a wine stain that looks like blood. "The third option: I am called away from the estate on a mission so virtuous, so grandiose and charitable, that to press the issue of marriage becomes unseemly on the part of the other side. It makes them look petty, to demand when they can tie me down with marriage and having children when I've found a higher calling to better the world. They are forced to wait while I'm off accomplishing much more important things. And answering such a calling—an Autarchy-approved calling—sets me on a path of redemption: if I can prove my worth, I can elevate my family's circumstances again, redeem the Naveen name, and hold off on getting married for a purpose good enough for the public. And the Shepherds, of course, benefit immensely from my joining." She looks around at you all, unsmiling now but a little proud. <ul class="choices"> <<if $courage gte 60>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"You brilliant bitch."</div>' 'you7brilliant'>><<setcourage +1>><<setcharisma -1>><<setlavinet +1>><<setloyal -1>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">"You brilliant bitch."</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link '"Wow, well-played."' 'wow7well'>><<setlavinet +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I don\'t get it."' 'i7dont'>><<fair_plus "$cunning" -10>><<setintelligence -3>><<setlavinet -3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You can\'t just join the Shepherds because you don\'t want to get <i>married</i>."' 'you7cant'>><<fair_plus "$lavinet" -15>><<if $shepherdsconscript is true>><<fair_plus "$lavinet" -20>><</if>><<setcompassionate -5>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"What makes you think the Shepherds would want to take a sullied name like yours, though? It might damage our reputation rather than help it."' 'what7makes'>><<fair_plus "$lavinet" -100>><<set $lavinethate to true>><<fair_plus "$compassionate" -15>><<fair_plus "$charisma" -20>><</link>></li> </ul>

Lavinet laughs, apparently charmed by your response: you can tell she's never been spoken to with such coarse language before, but she doesn't seem to mind it. <<include "lavi7hatesi">>

Lavinet gives a kind of silvery laugh. <<include "lavi7hatesi">>

Lavinet gives a tight, humorless smile. "I'm joining the Shepherds," she clarifies. "In order to prevent a forced engagement. It's such a virtuous, altruistic thing—unheard of in our circles, which always causes great stir and excitement—and I think I will be able to garner enough public approval that it will protect me from the shame of going unmarried. It will make my suitors and father seem churlish to try and keep me here to be wed off, when I have a tangible way of actually getting things done in the world." You feel a bit slow from the shock. "Ohhhhh." She tosses her auburn tresses over her shoulder. <<include "lavi7hatesi">>

"What was the name of that handsome Archmage who signed his people up with the Shepherds in order to avoid persecution by the Autarchy?" Lavinet asks sweetly. "To find safe haven, a place and a home to conduct their research away from prying eyes in exchange for their skills?" She taps her fan against her chin, contemplating the ceiling in mock-thought. "Ah—Liefred Antiqua, I think? I believe there were others, too…" <<nobr>><<if $shepherdsconscript is true>> She glances at you. "Oh, that's right! <i>You</i> joined in order to escape execution, didn't you? Then I hardly think you're in a position to be casting stones." <<else>> She rattles a few names that fit the description—people you know were motivated to join up for reasons that were initially or partially self-serving. <</if>><</nobr>> You flash a dark look at the others; Briony flushes with guilt, though Ayla merely shrugs and looks bluntly unrepentant. Tallys gives no reaction at all. Lavinet tosses her auburn tresses over her shoulder. <<include "lavi7hatesi">>

Lavinet's eyes grow very cold, though her painted lips quirk in a wry smile. "And whose fault is that?" she asks gently. "My name would not be <i>sullied</i> if it were not for you." She examines her fingernails lightly. "Anyway, it will be up to your commander to decide, not you. I believe having an aristocratic asset is far more useful than having none at all." <<include "lavi7hatesi">>

Then she turns to regard you shrewdly. "And please don't mistake me: I did not apply <i>solely</i> for selfish reasons, nor only to escape marriage. I have seen how you have handled cases like mine. I seek to join the Order to ensure that no further missions are bungled in such a manner—to make sure that people aren't hurt by poor or callous decisions." She looks straight at you, her wine-colored eyes piercing. "I do not agree with your methods, <<c firstname>>. If I become a Shepherd, I can make sure no one's life is ruined in such a manner again. I aim to make a real, tangible, actual difference in the world." It is the first time she's confronted you directly about your decision at the Elder Council; you tense, but before you can respond, she's looking at the others and speaking again, and the moment passes. Tallys shakes her head at you, as if to deter you from firing back at Lavinet and making things even worse. You've noticed that they've all been doing that, lately, even Tallys—siding with Lavinet against you. They haven't said it explicitly, but it shows a little of what they think regarding your decision with the Elementals. "It's not as if I lack skills," Lavinet continues calmly. <<include "skillslavi">>

Lavinet sighs, then rises to a reading desk in the corner of the parlor—you hadn't realized that this was one of her many personal rooms—and opens one of its drawers, producing at least twenty thick, cream-colored envelopes from within its depths. All are sealed with dark blue wax, which means that they're… "Marriage proposals," Lavinet says, as if she's discussing tiresome gnats at a picnic. <<nobr>><<if $lavinetromanceflag gte 11>> Despite yourself, something crumples in your chest; you feel the bitter sting of… something. <</if>><</nobr>> She lays the pile of letters on the low table near your chair: <<nobr>><<if $intelligence gte 55>> you glance at the fine ink written on some of them and catch very recognizable, well-minted names. <<else>> you don't recognize any of the names, but then again, these are nobles; why would you know any of their many names? <</if>><</nobr>> "They've been arriving by the cartload—literally. I would have thought that our recent exploits would have had the opposite effect: all of the things I did, summoning you here in secret, consorting with Diminished fighters and Elementals and Shepherds, sneaking away from my father and negotiating for the fiefdom without his permission—all of those things should make for a very unappealing wife, by most noble standards. They tend to like their women meek, lovely, and diffident—which recent events prove that I am not. Well, not meek or diffident, anyway." She moves to a glittering bar cart and pours herself a glass of wine, swirls it around for a bit in her glass: a rare indulgence. Then, after savoring it, she continues, "I have no intention of marrying any one of them, but my father is a different story. There are many tempting offers being thrown around—and the longer I delay, the less desirable I become, in the long run. He is eager to marry me off, and I am just as eager to avoid that." She looks down at the letters with distaste. "Least of all because none of these men have even seen it fit to come here and visit me in person. My future husband will at least make the effort to <i>see</i> me when he proposes, regardless of the state of the roads." She sits back down across from you. "But you see, this is one of the few things that I simply can't get around. You have to be very careful, rejecting proposals en masse: turn away too many, for too little reason, and you begin to earn yourself an unsavory, fickle reputation." She shakes her head. "If I say no outright, to every single proposal I receive, I will be damaging our family name, our legacy—possibly even our fiefdom and its relations to other holdings, if others are incensed enough to punish us for my slights. We simply can't afford that, not right now." "So what will you do?" Briony asks, fidgeting now with genuine concern. Lavinet looks down into her wine glass and smiles a little. "I'll gamble." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "proposalsi">><</link>></center>

"There are really only three ways to get out of this situation," she continues. "The first: I pick a fiancé, insist on a long engagement, and find some way to break it down the road. This is the least viable option, not least because of the scandal it will cause in court when I eventually spurn my betrothed." "The second: I do something so awful, so damaging, that I become anathema, even to the most marriage-desperate souls. While effective at preventing any betrothals, it also essentially causes the exact thing I'm avoiding: shame to my family. So that option is out, too." She pats her lips with a lilac handkerchief conscientiously, though you don't see a speck of wine. "The third option: I am called away from the estate on a mission so virtuous, so grandiose and charitable, that to press the issue of marriage becomes unseemly on the part of the other side. It makes them look petty, to demand when they can tie me down with marriage and having children when I've found a higher calling to better the world. They are forced to wait while I'm off accomplishing much more important things. And answering such a calling—an Autarchy-approved calling—also makes my father look very wretched in the case of punishment: he can't disown me for choosing to walk a saintlier and nobler path, at least for a while. To crush my altruistic desires in such a manner makes him look unreasonable. On the other hand, if he publicly supports my pursuits, then my entire family's standing shall be further elevated by my good deeds." She looks around at you all, smiling only a little but somehow looking very smug. <ul class="choices"> <<if $courage gte 60>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"You brilliant bitch."</div>' 'you7ubrilliant'>><<setcourage +1>><<setcharisma -1>><<setlavinet +1>><<setloyal -1>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">"You brilliant bitch."</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link '"Wow, well-played."' 'wow7uwell'>><<setlavinet +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I don\'t get it."' 'i7udont'>><<fair_plus "$cunning" -10>><<setintelligence -3>><<setlavinet -3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You can\'t just join the Shepherds because you don\'t want to get <i>married</i>."' 'you7ucant'>><<fair_plus "$lavinet" -15>><<if $shepherdsconscript is true>><<fair_plus "$lavinet" -10>><</if>><<setcompassionate -5>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I don\'t know if the Commander will agree to this."' 'i7uidont'>><<setloyal +8>><<setlavinet -3>><<if $lavinetromanceflag gte 5>><<set $lavinetromanceflag -= 1>><</if>><</link>></li> </ul>

Lavinet laughs, apparently delighted by your response: you can tell she's never been spoken to with such coarse language before, but she doesn't seem to mind it. <<include "proposalsii">>

Lavinet gives a kind of silvery laugh. <<include "proposalsii">>

Lavinet gives a silvery kind of laugh. "I'm joining the Shepherds," she clarifies. "In order to prevent a forcible engagement. It's such a virtuous, altruistic thing—unheard of in our circles, which always causes great stir and excitement—and I think I will be able to garner enough public approval that it will protect me. It will make my suitors and father seem churlish to try and keep me here to be married, when I have a tangible way of getting things done in the world." You feel a bit slow from the shock. "Ohhhhh." She tosses her auburn tresses over her shoulder. <<include "proposalsii">>

"What was the name of that handsome Archmage who signed his people up with the Shepherds in order to avoid persecution by the Autarchy?" Lavinet asks sweetly. "To find safe haven, a place and a home to conduct their research away from prying eyes in exchange for their skills?" She taps her fan against her chin, contemplating the ceiling in mock-thought. "Ah—Liefred Antiqua, I think? I believe there were others, too…" <<nobr>><<if $shepherdsconscript is true>> She glances at you. "Oh, that's right! You joined in order to escape execution, didn't you? I hardly think you're in a position to be casting stones." <<else>> She rattles a few names that fit the description—people you know were motivated to join up for reasons that were initially or partially self-serving. <</if>><</nobr>> You flash a dark look at the others; Briony flushes with guilt, though Ayla merely shrugs and looks bluntly unrepentant. Tallys gives no reaction at all. Lavinet tosses her auburn tresses over her shoulder. <<include "proposalsii">>

Lavinet doesn't bat an eye. "I suppose we'll see." Then she tosses her auburn tresses over her shoulder.<<include "proposalsii">>

"It's not as if I lack skills," she continues calmly. <<include "skillslavi">>

"I am military and combat-trained, ordained as a chevalier and able to fight expertly on horseback and on foot. I have been trained to lead my own battalions, and I have won tournaments based on my skills." "Fighting demons is nothing like the kind of fighting you're used to," Tallys retorts acidly. However much she might have warmed up to Lavinet in these last several weeks, it seems she's reverted to dislike or distrust again. A noblewoman acting like it's easy to join the Shepherds probably has something to do with that. "Endarkened don't fight according to rules: it's not like fencing or jousting." "I am aware," Lavinet answers in pleasant tones. "And yet, I am also aware that the Order takes in recruits of many different stripes, including some who aren't able to fight at all. Farmhands and barmaids, who then receive training. Your own quartermaster… and the head of Merchants Guild…" "You've done your research," Ayla says dryly. "You've told me most of this yourselves," Lavinet says perkily. "I only filed it away unconsciously." She shakes her head. "Regardless, I am willing to submit to any trials or examinations—of my combat-readiness or otherwise—and let those decide. Even if I'm deemed unfit for a fighting role, I'll take administrative work, non-combat duty… I think I have many skills that will translate, regardless of where I land." She looks around at you all, her face calm and composed, but her eyes steely. "And, of course, there is the undeniable benefit of having a prominent noble join the Order. It legitimizes it, popularizes it even further in the eyes of the Norm public, the aristocracy, and the Autarchy. Your reputation will undoubtedly rise when it comes out that a high-born lady—a Naveen—has joined your ranks. It would be as if a prince or a princess had enrolled: imagine the fame and celebrity for the Order! The increased influence, appeal, and legitimacy! People who might have once dismissed you out of hand will be forced to pay attention, to take you seriously. To work for your regard, even." She has a point there: although there are Norm fighters in the Order, which has done a lot of good in turning public favor and consideration towards the Shepherds, none even came close to having the influence of an actual noble. It would open up an entire new world for the Order. <<nobr>><<if $lockwood is not "elementals" and $lavinet gte 50>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "something7lavi">><</link>></center> <<else>> <<include "skillslavii">><</if>><</nobr>>

"There is something else," Lavinet says after a moment. She looks down at her lap, where she plays with the tassel on her fan handle, looking uncharacteristically… nervous. She purses her lips for a moment, then continues: "I've found myself… inspired by you. All of you. Your example." She looks up at you briefly, then back down at her lap, pursing her lips again. "It must sound… silly, inane, coming from someone like me. I know that I am… sheltered, and privileged, and—and everything else. But, you see, I don't <i>want</i> to be. I want… <i>more</i>. Not only for myself, but for the world around me. I want to use my wealth, my status, for good, for something greater than simply finding someone to wed and worrying about what cakes to serve. I always have: I think that's why I found the courage to call you here. Because I've always wanted to do <i>more</i>." She smiles bitterly down at her lap. "I want to learn more about the world, to see it outside of this gilded cage, see what I can do to improve it or help it. I'm well aware of how ignorant I am of the problems that lie… <i>out there</i>." She gestures vaguely out the dark window of the parlor. "But I also know I'm in the unique position of being able to actually do something about it. I have the necessary power, privilege, status, what have you, to actually create change in the world, the way few others can. But to do that, I need to experience it, really <i>understand</i> it. I can't do that from here. But if I go to Haven… if I join the Shepherds…" She swallows, then adds softly: "I want to do the kind of work you do. I want to be the person that someone else calls in a crisis, and I want to be able to answer the call and help them, as you have helped me. I can do that as a Shepherd. I know I can. More than that, I <i>need</i> to. I can't stay here, content only to go on living as I have, any longer. I can't simply just remain 'Lady Lavinet Naveen,' who merely has money and the occasional inclination to throw it at a problem, helping no one. I must do more. I know I can do more." She pauses. "Does that make any sense?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Of course it does." And you can\'t help but admire her for it.' 'of7course'>><<setlavinet +3>><<setcompassionate +3>><<if $gender is "male">><<set $lavinetromanceflag +=1>><</if>><<setcharisma +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Yes, that makes sense."' 'yes7that'>><<setcharisma +1>><<setlavinet +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Not really, no."' 'not7really'>><<setlavinet -3>><<set $lavinetromanceflag to 0>><<fair_plus "$charisma" -10>><</link>></li> </ul>

She looks at you and smiles a bit. "Thank you, <<c firstname>>," she says, her burgundy eyes glowing in the warm light. Then she clears her throat and turns away, throwing on her businesslike demeanor again like an expensive fur coat. <<include "skillslavii">>

She looks at you and smiles a bit. "I'm glad," she says, her burgundy eyes glowing in the warm light. Then she clears her throat and turns away, throwing on her businesslike demeanor again like an expensive fur coat. <<include "skillslavii">>

She looks away and frowns to herself. "I suppose I didn't explain it very well; that's my fault." "I got it," Ayla says then, uncharacteristically kind, albeit gruff. "And I think it's great. Good for you, for wanting to make a difference. You're a damn sight better than any noble I've ever met." Briony nods vigorously, and even Tallys makes no objection to that. Lavinet looks at them and smiles a bit. "Thank you," she breathes, casting her eyes down so that her eyelashes create little ridged shadows on her cheeks in the light. Then she clears her throat and turns away, throwing on her businesslike demeanor again like an expensive fur coat. <<include "skillslavii">>

"I can bring in my personal allowances for gold, if necessary," she adds, clearly aiming to seal the deal. "I have a lot of wealth at my disposal, and I believe it can really help the Shepherds when the Autarchy is being… frugal with its funds. And I have many political connections that can be used to enhance the Shepherds' circumstances, as well." She takes another sip of her wine. "I am, all in all, quite a valuable recruit to bring into the fold. Just as valuable as the chieftain of the Hunters, the head of Merchants Guild or Thieves Guild, or the Archmage of the Veiled Circle. Possibly even more so." You look to the others for their reaction: Briony looks excited, Ayla looks thoughtful, and Tallys looks reserved. <<include "laviask">>

<ul class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("are7you")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"Are you sure about this? It will be hard work."</div>' 'are7you'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("why7didnt")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"Why didn\'t you talk to us about this first?"</div>' 'why7didnt'>><<if $lavinethate is true>><<fair_plus "$lavinet" -10>><</if>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("what7kind")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"What kind of political connections would you be bringing?"</div>' 'what7kind'>><<setcunning +3>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("do7you")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"Do you really think your joining will affect our reputation positively?"</div>' 'do7you'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("what7about")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"What about Lockwood? Can you really afford to leave it like this?"</div>' 'what7about'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("but7you")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"But you will have to marry someday, won\'t you? So aren\'t you joining with a kind of time limit?"</div>' 'but7you'>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link '"I support you all the way."' 'i7support'>><<if $lavinethate is false>><<fair_plus "$lavinet" +10>><<if $gender is "male">><<set $lavinetromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</if>><</link>></li> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I don\'t support this."</div>' 'i7odont'>><<fair_plus "$lavinet" -50>><<set $lavinetromanceflag to 0>><<setcourage +3>><<setcompassionate -10>><<setcharisma -10>><</link>> </ul>

"It won't be anything like you're used to," you reiterate. "The Shepherd battle-masters are tough as nails, and they run their recruits ragged. They don't give breaks unless your health is in jeopardy, and they don't take into consideration things like birth or status. You'll be sleeping, eating, and fighting among the commonfolk, soldiers. And the cases we face…" "Some are brutal murders," Tallys cuts in, ruthless. "Serial killings, arson. Kidnapped children, cultist rituals. Blood sacrifices." Briony's face darkens at that. "Endarkened have no mercy, and neither do some of the criminals we pursue. It's tough, gory, often thankless work." "That's the part of it that some people don't get," Ayla adds. "The thanklessness. Maybe it'll be different for you, seeing as how you're not Diminished, but I suspect it may even be worse for you before it gets better. They'll call you Diminished-lover, traitor to your own people…" "I am aware of all of that," Lavinet puts in, gently. She doesn't looked fazed in the least. "I have no delusions about the work I'll be taking on. I'm confident that I can handle it." "And besides," Briony begins, "you'll have friends. You won't have to go through it alone." Lavinet smiles at her. "Exactly." <<include "laviask">>

<<nobr>><<if $lavinethate is false>> For just the briefest movement, you see her face move, fall a little; she glances away from you for the first time and looks a little ashamed. <br><br> "I… I am not sure," she says after a moment. "I suppose… I am so used to having to carry out my plans first, asking for forgiveness, not permission, that I simply acted. I am so used to people trying to stop me that I go ahead with my decisions without consulting others, so as not to give them the chance to stymie them." She inclines her head after a moment. "I am sorry. I see now how thoughtless it was. It's not that I mistrust you… Quite the opposite, in fact." <br><br> She looks around, gives you a wan smile. "It was merely force of habit," she says, her voice quieter now. <br><br> After a moment of staring at her, you nod. You suppose you can understand that, especially with a father like hers. And you've heard Galbert Naveen is <i>lenient</i>, compared to some others. <<else>> Lavinet meets your eye. "Why would I speak to you first?" she asks flatly. "We are not friends, and this is not your jurisdiction. It is something for your superiors to decide." <br><br> You suppose she has a point there. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "laviask">>

"Well," Lavinet says slowly. "All of my existing allies, friends, and relatives would be far more motivated to support the Shepherds—publicly, politically, financially, what have you—once their friend, cousin, niece, or whichever is an officer. Even some of my suitors might wish to throw in their support as a bid to impress me. It's happened before. And…" She looks thoughtful. "While my work with the Shepherds would of course take precedent, I imagine the social scene in Haven will be… an interesting landscape for me to explore. I am not going to officially debut at the Sun Court just yet—doing so would make far too many demands on my time—but I expect I will be invited to soirees here and there, pressed to share stories with avidly curious and bored nobles who want to know all about our adventures, but who can't be seen associating with Diminished police officers outright. And if I can rub shoulders with the likes of them, people who are entrenched in the very fabric of Haven and its high-born connections… who knows how many more I can persuade to our side?" <<include "laviask">>

"You have rivals," you say. "Enemies like Auberon and Isolde. What if you joining the Order just makes the Shepherds an easy target for their ire, draws their attention in a negative way? Whereas Isolde may not have had any reason to pay attention to the Shepherds, now she might be a bit more motivated to slight us to her friends or turn the other nobles against our cause, because she knows your fate is tied to ours." "That is a risk we will have to take," Lavinet answers baldly. "And, truth be told, it's not as if most of the nobles on the Continent right now don't already have cause to dislike you. You are Diminished, and elevated by the Autarch: most of them <i>already</i> hate you. That is the sad truth of it: you don't have much to lose, not when it comes to them." She tosses her curls again. "Besides: I can handle the Auberons and Isoldes of the world. They've never been able to best me so far." <<include "laviask">>

"I wouldn't consider it if I wasn't sure that it would be fine," Lavinet says adamantly. <<nobr>><<if $lockwood is "elementals">> "I think it would benefit if my father and I had some space from each other—and, in fact, my sisters are on their way back from their finishing college. We would have preferred it if they could wait until the roads were deemed safe, but they insisted… and they need to start learning about how to run the fiefdom, especially without my shadow looming over them. If I'm here, they'll never take it seriously, and will only count on me to get things done. But if something ever happens to me, they need to understand how to do it themselves." She shakes her head. "Clara and Pendric will guide them. And in the meantime, I'm useless to the fiefdom, only good for drawing negative attention to it after what—happened." She takes another deep draught of wine. "I've done all I can to prepare Lockwood for any situation: now it's time to step back and let others step into a place of leadership for a while." <br><br> "What if the worst should happen?" Tallys asks then. "What if the Elementals do return, and Lockwood becomes embroiled in war?" <br><br> Lavinet's expression clouds. "They are ready," she says, still insistent. "I have gone over it, again and again, with our best scholars and military tacticians. Even in the worst case scenarios, with our stores and defenses, the people are prepared to withstand a siege for an entire year. It won't take that long for help to arrive." <br><br> "You would really be willing to abandon your people to their fates?" Tallys asks. <br><br> "No," Lavinet replies, her tone tart, "for in the event of an Elemental attack, the Shepherds would be deployed to aid the situation, and I would be chief among them. I am not abandoning anybody." <br><br> She's clearly thought this through, and although you go over every disastrous permutation you can think of, she seems to have an answer for it all. <<elseif $lockwood is "unity">> "The Elementals have settled in, and I have done all I can to ensure the process is as smooth and painless as possible. I'm sure my presence would be useful in overseeing things, but truth be told, all of the necessary work is done. The gears are in motion. Now it just needs time." She shakes her head. "And I think it would benefit the fiefdom if my father and I had some space from each other, so he could present more of a united front and leadership to the public. My sisters are on their way back from their finishing college now—and they need to start learning about how to run Lockwood, without my shadow looming over them, and especially considering our new circumstances. If I'm here, they'll never take their duties seriously, and will only count on me to get things done. But if something ever happens to me, they need to understand how to do it themselves." <br><br> She looks down at her wine glass, empty now, and sets it on the nearby table. "Clara and Pendric will guide them. And in the meantime, I just… don't have all that much to do, except linger here as a kind of backup. But they'll be marrying me off soon anyway, so I won't even be that." She takes a deep breath. "I've done all I can to prepare Lockwood: now it's time to step back and let things run their natural course for a little while." <br><br> "You are the main force driving this peace," Tallys argues. "If you leave, how can you trust that things won't fall apart?" <br><br> Lavinet shakes her head again. "I have faith that they won't," she insists. "And again, I am leaving soon either way: either with the Shepherds, or with a husband. Lockwood will have to survive without me regardless, at least for a time." <br><br> "You would really be willing to abandon your people to their fates?" the Elf demands. <br><br> Lavinet's expression clouds. "I have done all I can for them," she responds. "I have gone over it, again and again, with our scholars and engineers and bankers and military strategists. I have helped them design everything to its best iteration. I have brokered peace and instituted ways for our people to negotiate with theirs in a respectful manner. But it cannot all ride on me: it <i>must</i> be strong enough to survive without falling on the shoulders of a single person. It must work with my father, or my sisters, or any of the people who will replace me when I'm gone or dead or fallen ill. Otherwise, the whole thing was always doomed to fail in the first place." <br><br> She looks up at you. "Besides, if anything should happen, the Shepherds would be deployed to handle it, and I would be chief among them. I am not <i>abandoning</i> anybody." <br><br> She's clearly thought this through, and although you go over every disastrous permutation you can think of, she seems to have an answer for it all. <<elseif $lockwood is "norms">> "The Elementals are gone, giving no sign of plans to return, and we have built our defenses against them to the best of our abilities. The civilians and farmers have returned to their homes, as have the nobles. What else is there for me to do? Everything has returned to its status quo." She shakes her head. "Besides, my sisters are on their way back from their finishing college in Sacor. They need to start learning about how to run the fiefdom, especially without my shadow looming over them. If I'm here, they'll never take it seriously, and will only count on me to get things done. But if something ever happens to me, they need to understand how to do it themselves." She shakes her head. "Clara and Pendric will guide them. In the meantime, I need to be… somewhere else." <br><br> "What if the worst should happen?" Tallys asks then. "What if the Elementals do return, and Lockwood becomes embroiled in war?" <br><br> Lavinet's expression clouds. "They are ready," she says, still insistent. "I have gone over it, again and again, with our best scholars, engineers, and military tacticians. Even in the worst case scenarios, with our stores and defenses, the people are prepared to withstand a siege for an entire year, perhaps even two. It won't take that long for help to arrive." <br><br> "You would really want to risk abandoning your people to their fates?" Tallys asks. <br><br> "No," Lavinet replies, her tone tart, "for in the event of an Elemental attack, the Shepherds would be deployed to aid the situation, and I would be chief among them. I am not <i>abandoning</i> anybody. But it does not matter, because <i>the Elementals will not return</i>." <br><br> She lays out her reasons for why she's confident that Lockwood is safe, and you all go back and forth on the issue for a while. She's clearly thought this through, and although you go over every disastrous permutation you can think of, she seems to have an answer for it all. <<else>> "The Elementals are happy, our two sides have sworn to uphold peace, the farmers have moved back to their homes, and so have the visiting nobles. What else is there for me to do? Everything has returned to its status quo." She shakes her head. "Besides, my sisters are on their way back from their finishing college in Sacor. They need to start learning about how to run the fiefdom, especially without my shadow looming over them. If I'm here, they'll never take it seriously, and will only count on me to get things done. But if something ever happens to me, they need to understand how to do it themselves." She shakes her head. "Clara and Pendric will guide them. In the meantime, I have no real need to be here, and every need to be… somewhere else." <br><br> Well, you can't really argue with that. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "laviask">>

Lavinet shrugs lightly. "The more time I can buy for myself, the better," she says. "I am still young; and whatever the social norms dictate, I would like to wait until I find the right man to marry. I'm not particularly interested in having children, and I can always adopt if my time for it has passed. In short, I am willing to wait decades to find the right person, so the longer I can stay with the Shepherds and fend off these wretched engagements, the better." She smirks. "My father doesn't need to know that, though, so I can't make it look as if I'm settling in for the long haul right away. But I have disclosed my circumstances to your commander. I predict that, if all goes well, there will be something like a two-year minimum added to my contract, to ensure that I'm not simply using the Shepherds as an excuse to run away from my fate. There will be a clause to extend that employment indefinitely should I perform well and desire to stay on longer, of course. By then, my father and everyone else will have had time to adapt to the situation." "Two years is an easier pill to swallow than indefinitely," Ayla grunts. "At least for them. They'd throw a much bigger fit if they thought you were signing a contract for 'forever.' Clever tactic." Lavinet tosses her hair. "Isn't it?" <<include "laviask">>

<<nobr>><<if $lavinethate is false>> You can hardly even imagine how monumental this is for her—leaving her life of wealth and privilege to get down in the mud with soldiers and Diminished demon-fighters—but you can't help but admire her tenacity and strength. She's clearly thought every part of this through, with careful consideration; there isn't really a compelling argument that you can find that sounds convincing enough to dissuade her. And after what you've seen in the last weeks, you're not sure it would even be right to turn her from this path. With her reputation, influence, courage, and skills in both persuasion and combat, Lavinet might be a major instrument in deciding the Order's fate, just like the rest of the people you've seen attach themselves to the Shepherds. The whole thing has a touch of destiny to it. It feels right. <br><br> You rise and shake Lavinet's gloved hand, and she practically glows with pleasure. "I'll put in a good word for you," you say. "And I can't think why the others would ever want to turn you away. So, provisionally… welcome to the Order." <br><br> Briony hops to her feet and rushes you both, wrapping her arms around Lavinet in a delighted hug replete with squeals of joy. Lavinet gasps, sharply, as if she's not used to such enthusiasm, or even being touched in such a way… but tentatively, she returns Briony's embrace. <br><br> "I can't believe this!" the former gladiator cries. "<i>Oh</i>, I was hoping something like this would happen—I can't wait to show you Haven, and we'll have to decorate your room—" <br><br> Ayla saunters over and also shakes Lavinet's hand, looking at you sidelong. "Looks like your record of recruiting notables continues, <<c halfname>>," she mutters under her breath as Briony and Lavinet continue to laugh together. <br><br> You look back at her, confused. "What do you mean? Lavinet decided this without my input." <br><br> She rolls her eyes. "Yeah, and so did the rest of us, but that doesn't mean we're not still notches in your proverbial sword-belt. If you hadn't been here and it'd just been us, I bet she wouldn't have joined." Then, catching the puzzled look on her face, she shakes her head with a wry snort. "Never mind." <br><br> Then you all look at Tallys, who's standing back from the proceedings and watching with wary, hooded eyes. After a moment, she says reluctantly, "There are not many noblewomen who would volunteer to kill demons, even if it did mean escaping marriage." She looks away and shrugs. "You are a rare case." <br><br> "The Order's full of rare cases," you say dryly: you only have to look at yourself to prove that, let alone the others. <br><br> "Like some kind of zoo," Ayla puts in, smirking. "Or a traveling circus." She nods to Lavinet. "Welcome to the circus, Lavinet. You're a certified badass, and you deserve to join." <br><br> Tallys doesn't look at her, but her mouth twitches in something like a smile. "It's more of a madhouse than a circus." She shrugs again, with one shoulder. "You'll fit right in." <br><br> That's all she has to say on the matter, but Lavinet smiles as if she'd paid her the highest compliment. The night draws on with a festive air, the parlor warm and heady with the sweetness of promise and the future and wine. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "skillslaviiii">><</link>></center> <<else>> She flicks you a cool, unreadable look. "Oh, good." <br><br> Then Briony hops to her feet and rushes you both, wrapping her arms around Lavinet in a delighted hug replete with squeals of joy. Lavinet gasps, sharply, as if she's not used to such enthusiasm, or even being touched in such a way… but tentatively, she returns Briony's embrace. <br><br> "I can't believe this!" the former gladiator cries. "<i>Oh</i>, I was hoping something like this would happen—I can't wait to show you Haven, and we'll have to decorate your room—" <br><br> Ayla saunters over and also shakes Lavinet's hand, looking at you sidelong. "I'm all for it. Fuck marriage. Your skills are put to way better use with the Shepherds." <br><br> Then you all look at Tallys, who's standing back from the proceedings and watching with wary, hooded eyes. After a moment, she says reluctantly, "There are not many noblewomen who would volunteer to place themselves in danger and kill demons. Especially… not after what happened. With us." She looks away and shrugs. "You are a rare case." <br><br> "The Order's full of rare cases," Briony says dryly. <br><br> "Like some kind of zoo," Ayla adds, smirking. "Or a traveling circus." She nods to Lavinet. "Welcome to the circus, Lavinet. You're a certified badass, and you deserve to join." <br><br> Tallys doesn't look at her, but her mouth twitches in something like a smile. "It's more of a madhouse than a circus." She shrugs again, with one shoulder. "You'll fit right in." <br><br> That's all she has to say on the matter, but Lavinet smiles as if she'd paid her the highest compliment. The night draws on with a festive air, the matter decided and done—though Lavinet doesn't look at you again. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "skillslaviiii">><</link>></center> <</if>><</nobr>>

Lavinet's eyes turn very cold and sharp. "I see," she says, her voice clipped and soft. "Well, that's a pity. I suppose you know it's not up to you." That's all she says for the rest of the night, and an awkward silence falls over the parlor. Tallys shoots you a secret look, hard to decipher in meaning, but you think she might agree with you. Still, that doesn't help assuage the tension, and ultimately, Lavinet turns on her heel and walks out of the room, citing her need to begin her preparations for the journey to Haven. Ayla whistles. "Well," she says after a moment. "That'll be a fun trip home." "You think she'll still go through with it?" you ask her. The Wind-Mage almost laughs at you. "Are you kidding? Look at her. Her mind was already made up before she even walked in the room. And she's a force of nature, that woman." She shakes her head. "There's nothing you can do to stop her now." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "i7donti">><</link>></center>

You learn that for yourself, in the days to come. No matter what you say or do, Lavinet is determined to come back with you and join the Shepherds. Ultimately, just like everyone else, you eventually have to give up and go along with what she wants. The Naveen servants have a saying: "<i>The lady always wins</i>." That remains as true as ever, even in your case. Still, her nominal victory does nothing to soften Lavinet's feelings towards you. Although she treats you politely enough, you catch her staring at you coldly now and then, and her smile never reaches her eyes in your presence again. The lady might have won this time, but she's made it clear that she hasn't forgotten your objections… and that she holds a grudge. You can only hope Blade turns her away at the gates and sends her home—though you doubt you'll be so lucky. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "skillslaviiii">><</link>></center>

And so, preparations to return home begin in earnest. <<nobr>><<if $lavimoregold is true>> You're given your promised bonus in gold—the one that you haggled out of Lavinet—and decide to make your way down to Lockwood's boutiques and shops to stock up for the journey back to Haven. <<include "lockwood7shop">> <<elseif ($lavinethate is false and $lockwood is not "elementals") and ($lavinet gte 70 or $nobles gte 70)>> Alongside the requisite payment in gold, Lavinet gifts you a custom-made formal outfit as thanks for your work and newfound friendship. She gives you… <ul class="choices"> <<if $formalwear4 is not "">><li><<link 'The outfit that you borrowed on your first night in Lockwood: $formalwear4.' 'you7also'>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link 'A sea foam green-blue ballgown decorated with lovely hydrangeas.' 'you7also'>><<set $formalwear4 to "a sea foam-colored ballgown decorated with lovely hydrangeas">><</link>></li> <li><<link 'A jet black suit trimmed with gold and decorated with vibrant red roses.' 'you7also'>><<set $formalwear4 to "a black suit decorated with gold trim and vibrant red roses">><</link>></li> <li><<link 'A set of pale lavender robes decorated with delicate pink peonies.' 'you7also'>><<set $formalwear4 to "a lavender robe decorated with delicate peony blooms">><</link>></li> <li><<link 'A set of blush-orange vestments decorated with tiny white cherry blossoms.' 'you7also'>><<set $formalwear4 to "a set of blush-orange, mandarin vestments decorated with tiny white cherry blossoms">><</link>></li> <li><<link 'A cascading blue gown that drips onto the floor like a waterfall.' 'you7also'>><<set $formalwear4 to "a sparkling blue gown that drips onto the floor like a waterfall">><</link>></li> <li><<link 'A cloudy suit the color of a stormy sky, shot through with pale streaks of lightning.' 'you7also'>><<set $formalwear4 to "a cloudy suit the color of a stormy sky, shot through with pale streaks of lightning">><</link>></li> <li><<link 'A fiery robe that dances and shimmers like moving summer flame.' 'you7also'>><<set $formalwear4 to "a fiery robe that dances and shimmers like moving summer flame">><</link>></li> <li><<link 'A dramatic, forest-green garment with wide, trailing sleeves like vines and a train that seems to be made of fallen leaves.' 'you7also'>><<set $formalwear4 to "a dramatic, forest-green garment with vine-like trailing sleeves and a train made of fallen leaves">><</link>></li> </ul> <<else>> You make sure to stop at Lockwood's many shops and boutiques in order to stock up on the journey home. <<include "lockwood7shop">> <</if>><</nobr>>

You also make sure to stop at Lockwood's many shops and boutiques in order to stock up on the journey home. <<include "lockwood7shop">>

<<nobr>> <<set $lockwoodmulti to 1, $lockwoodprice to 50, $shopkeeper to "">> <<if $lockwood is "elementals">> <<set $lockwoodmulti to 2>><<set $shopkeeper to "hate">>Some people stare at you with open hostility, and you hear some jeers and the sound of spitting as you walk down the street. Once or twice, you catch a huddle of youths looking at you, their fists balled in their pockets, but they look away when your cloak flutters and reveals a peek of your $mainweapon. You ignore them. They would never try anything, not against you. Best to simply buy what you need and get out of here as soon as you can. <br><br> The shopkeeper at the last stall for the day continues the frosty treatment, folding her arms and staring stonily into the distance as you browse her wares. <<set $lockwoodprice to $lockwoodprice * $lockwoodmulti>> <<include "lockwoodshop">> <<elseif $lockwood is "norms">> <<set $lockwoodmulti to 0.5>><<set $shopkeeper to "like">>Many people nod and beam at you, and some children and youths even run up to shake your hand or ask you to sign scraps of parchment, even pressing dried flowers common to the region in your hand. They all seem to know your name, somehow: although your deeds have been mainly confined to the estate at the top of the hill, it seems that word spreads fast and far in Lockwood. <br><br> The shopkeeper at the last stall for the day continues the warm treatment, smiling at you as if she knows you personally and inviting you to shop at a personal discount. <<set $lockwoodprice to $lockwoodprice * $lockwoodmulti>> <<include "lockwoodshop">> <<elseif $lockwood is "unity">> <<set $shopkeeper to "neutral">> Some people nod and smile uncertainly at you, while others glower and shake their heads, muttering amongst themselves. You even pass a group of Elementals in the street—a group of Sylphs, barely visible except for the leaves and litter whirling around them like a glimmering shield. You don't exchange a word, but they glance at you and nod tersely. You're told that the more "frightening" Elementals haven't begun their move into the city yet: Lavinet felt it was better that the most non-threatening folk, the Sylphs and the Sprites, made an appearance first, not least because they're also the hardest to directly harm. Once others have grown acclimated to their presence, the Undine will move in, then the Hillfolk, and last, the Flamelings. <br><br> All in all, reactions in the city seem decidedly mixed, but no one outright confronts you. The shopkeeper at your last stall for the day continues the lukewarm treatment: she nods at you in greeting, but otherwise does not attempt to make conversation. <<set $lockwoodprice to $lockwoodprice * $lockwoodmulti>> <<include "lockwoodshop">> <<else>> <<set $shopkeeper to "like">>Many people nod and beam at you, and some children and youths even shyly wave. No one outright speaks to you, but it's a stark contrast to how you were first treated when you arrived to this city, with people staring openly at you with suspicion and fear. You have a feeling that many folk will be sorry to see you leave. <br><br> The shopkeeper at the last stall nods at you, polite and generally friendly. <<set $lockwoodprice to $lockwoodprice * $lockwoodmulti>> <<include "lockwoodshop">> <</if>> <</nobr>>

<ul class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("buy7bunch")>><<if $gold gte $lockwoodprice>><<link '<div class="money-item">Buy the bunch of Heart\'s Hyacinthe, the local flower of Lockwood that\'s said to change color when gifted to a lover. [$lockwoodprice DEUCALIONS]</div>' 'buy7bunch'>><<set $gold -= $lockwoodprice>><<set $hyacinthe to true>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Buy the bunch of Heart\'s Hyacinthe, the local flower of Lockwood and said to change color when gifted to a lover. [$lockwoodprice DEUCALIONS]</div>'>><</link>><</if>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("buy7perfume")>><<if $gold gte $lockwoodprice>><<link '<div class="money-item">Buy the bottle of <i>Frolique</i>, a famous perfume that has been made in this region for several decades. [$lockwoodprice DEUCALIONS]</div>' 'buy7perfume'>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Buy the bottle of <i>Frolique</i>, a famous perfume that has been made in this region for several decades. [$lockwoodprice DEUCALIONS]</div>'>><</link>><</if>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("but7sunhate")>><<if $gold gte $lockwoodprice>><<link '<div class="money-item">Buy the large, woven sunhat that\'s become a popular fashion choice in this area, for aristocrats and wealthy merchants as well as farmers. [$lockwoodprice DEUCALIONS]</div>' 'but7sunhate'>><<set $gold -= $lockwoodprice>><<set $sunhat to true>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Buy the large, woven sunhat that\'s become a popular fashion choice in this area, for aristocrats and wealthy merchants as well as farmers. ($lockwoodprice deucalions)</div>'>><</link>><</if>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("buy7model")>><<if $gold gte $lockwoodprice>><<link '<div class="money-item">Buy the miniature, stacked model of Lockwood, complete with the tiny nub of the Naveen estate at the very top. [$lockwoodprice DEUCALIONS]</div>' 'buy7model'>><<set $gold -= $lockwoodprice>><<set $lockwoodsouvenir to true>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Buy the miniature, stacked model of Lockwood, complete with the tiny nub of the Naveen estate at the very top. [$lockwoodprice DEUCALIONS]</div>'>><</link>><</if>><</if>> <li><<link 'You\'re all done shopping for today.' 'youre7all'>><</link>></li> </ul>

<<nobr>><<if $shopkeeper is "like" or $shopkeeper is "neutral">> The shopkeeper nods and wraps the bundle of Heart's Hyacinthe up for you. "If you keep it in a vase with some water, it can sometimes grow into its own bush." <<else>> The shopkeeper doesn't comment as you leave your gold on the counter and wrap up the flowers yourself. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "lockwoodshop">>

The perfume comes in a delicate, very beautiful green glass bottle with gold designs painted across its surface. You glance at the shopkeeper. "Can I smell it?" <<nobr>> <<if $shopkeeper is "like">> <br><br> She smiles and gestures you to a sample bottle on another table. "Please." <br><br> You spritz the fragrance into the air and give it a sniff: the perfume is light and airy, a bit citrus-y—it reminds you of sunlit picnics, fields of flowers rippling in the wind, the ruffle of the ribbons on a wide-brimmed garden hat. Remarkable. <<elseif $shopkeeper is "neutral">> <br><br> She gives you a bit of an odd look—it's not very common to sample perfumes, as they are essentially wasting a valuable product meant to be sold. It'd be like asking to have a sip of a bottle of juice in order to taste it. But you've seen exceptions being made before, and after another moment, the shopkeeper shrugs and nods her assent. <br><br> You spritz the fragrance into the air and give it a sniff: the perfume is light and airy, a bit citrus-y—it reminds you of sunlit picnics, fields of flowers rippling in the wind, the ruffle of the ribbons on a wide-brimmed garden hat. Remarkable. <<else>> She gives you a flat, hateful look. "No." <</if>><</nobr>> Buy the bottle of perfume? <ul class="choices"> <<link '<div class="money-item">Yes. [$lockwoodprice DEUCALIONS]</div>' 'yes7buybottle'>><<set $gold -= $lockwoodprice>><<set $perfume to true>><</link>> <li><<link 'No.' 'no7dontbuybottle'>><</link>></li> </ul>

<<nobr>><<if $shopkeeper is "like" or $shopkeeper is "neutral">> The perfume bottle is wrapped with care in brown parchment paper before being presented to you in a decorative little bag. <<else>> The perfume is tossed summarily into a brown paper bag and thrust at you like it's a bomb. <</if>> <<include "lockwoodshop">> <</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $shopkeeper is "hate">> The shopkeeper sighs loudly, clearly annoyed by your presence. <</if>> <<include "lockwoodshop">> <</nobr>>

You tuck the wide-brimmed sunhat into your bag, careful not to crush it. <<include "lockwoodshop">>

It's a popular souvenir choice, as always—you think these miniature models must be in every major city, by this point. You wonder who makes them. <<include "lockwoodshop">>

You turn and make your way back to the Naveen estate. You should be ready to leave any day now. <<include "after7lockwood">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "after7lockwoodi">><</link>></center>

At last, the day comes for you to depart from Lockwood. Lavinet says goodbye to her father separately, for which you think you are glad: you don't know how he's reacted to Lavinet's impending departure—<i>or even if he knows about it…</i>—and you do not think you would like to see such a private family matter aired in public. <<nobr>><<if $lockwood is not "elementals" and $nobles gte 50>> Regardless of their lord's absence, a party of nobles and servants comes out to bid you farewell as you wait for Lavinet to finish her preparations inside. Most of the guests who had once resided in the estate are gone, traveling on the roads again now that you've resolved the problem that was keeping them confined to Lockwood—but the ones who remain greet you warmly. <br><br> Clara and Pendric are particularly sad to see you leave. "Please take care of her," Clara tells you, wringing a handkerchief in her hands. She doesn't cry, but her voice trembles, and her fiancé stares out across the plains with the tense, forthright posture of a man struggling not to tear up. "She is—so precious to us. We can hardly do without her." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Lavinet can take care of herself."' 'lavinet7can'>><<setlavinet +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Don\'t worry; I\'ll look after her."' 'dont7worry'>><<if $gender is "male">><<set $lavinetromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'ll do anything to keep her safe."' 'ill7do'>><<if $gender is "male">><<set $lavinetromanceflag += 3>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"If you can\'t do without her, she shouldn\'t be leaving."' 'if7you'>><<fair_plus "$lavinet" -10>><<set $lavinetromanceflag -= 5>><</link>></li> </ul> <<else>> No one else comes out to bid you farewell while you wait for her—not even the servants. Briony sighs and looks up at the high, imposing walls of the Naveen estate, the blank, curtained windows staring down at you like flat eyes. <br><br> "I don't expect I'll miss this place," she says wistfully. "It's comfortable, and luxurious, but there's too much—<i>tension</i> here. I always felt like I couldn't breathe." <br><br> "Shery will be so disappointed," you remark, dry; you remember the quartermaster's excitement over this mission, her envy at the thought of you attending glamorous galas and parties. The truth was not so sparkling. <br><br> <<include "lavinet7appears">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Clara smiles sadly. "All too true," she says, her voice wistful. "Still, I pray that you will be able to prevent her from charging headlong into the fray… whenever you can, anyway." <<include "she7trails">>

Clara smiles sadly. "You are too kind," she says. "We all see why she admires you. <i>We</i> admire you. And you are always welcome to return." <<include "she7trails">>

Clara frowns, but continues: "She trusts us to keep Lockwood safe, which is exactly what we'll do. We'll miss her sorely, but perhaps this will give her the opportunity to accomplish some good in the wider world. I only pray that she makes it home intact, someday." <<include "she7trails">>

She trails off for a moment, then adds: "We have even heard talk that other nobles are going to follow her example." You raise your brows. "Really?" Pendric nods. "It's only ripples for now—I expect everyone is waiting with bated breath to see how Lavinet fares—but she has inspired many of our generation. If she succeeds, and proves that a relationship with the Shepherds can be fruitful, perhaps even more meaningful than the idle drollness of our everyday lives… I predict many aristocrats will be eager to join. Maybe not players like the Auberons and Isoldes of the world, but there are more families like the Naveens; powerful families with restless second sons and third daughters, heirs longing to do something for the greater good. The Shepherds might prove the perfect place for them, if they're given the courage to try such a bold venture. And I think if Lavinet leads by example, they will gain just that." "So you're saying we're going to have an influx of noble recruits, sometime in the future?" You can't help but feel a wash of anticipation and a little excitement at that. The culture shock would be almost comical… <<nobr>><<if $lockwood is "unity">> though not as hard as integrating the Elementals and the Norms, now that you come to think of it. And the power and influence the Order would gain would be unimaginable. <<else>> but the power and influence the Order would gain would be unimaginable. <</if>><</nobr>> Pendric nods. "Some of them might even be the very nobles who witnessed your deeds here last month," he says with a dimpled grin. "They're very animated, very enamored with you. Letters are flying all over the Continent, spreading your name. Don't be surprised if they show up on your doorstep several months from now, eager to continue the adventure." "Perhaps we would even be among them," Clara says with a little laugh. "But we must look after Lockwood, and then there's…" She looks meaningfully at Pendric, who grins wider and clears his throat, his eyes darting down to her stomach. "There is the wedding," he says diplomatically. "We do hope you'll honor us by attending. We'll send the invitations to the Order's headquarters in Haven, come summer. Meanwhile, of course, we'll be holding down the fort here." <<include "lavinet7appears">>

Lavinet appears then, her eyes tight but the courtier's smile fixed on her face. She's riding her war-trained stallion, the shiny-coated destrier named Avonis, who peers at you suspiciously; her lance is tied to the back of her saddle, her sabre buckled at her side. She's dressed in rich furred traveling clothes, her wealth obvious but the outfit practical and functional. She has a saddlebag strapped to her stallion; the rest of her belongings will be shipped in two carts to Haven once she's had time to settle in. You'd heard she worked for an entire day just to downsize her things enough to fit into only two wagons. "How did it go?" you ask her. You notice that her father didn't accompany her outside, not even to bid farewell to you: the simplest courtesy. That can't be good. Lavinet only shakes her head, turning to Clara and rubbing her powdered cheek against her lady-in-waiting's in a practiced kiss. They exchange low, tearful words for a moment, bending their heads together and pressing each other's hands fretfully—you realize suddenly that they may have never been separated before, and this parting is actually much more difficult than they're letting on—before Lavinet turns to Pendric, embracing him and eventually even several waiting servants, all of whom look like anxious parents sending their child off on some long voyage. More words are exchanged, both to you and Lavinet and the others, but the day is dragging on and the cold wind is plucking at you: Avonis paws at the ground and wickers impatiently, anxious to be off. Before you know it, you've turned away and made your way down the thin, cobbled lanes, out the city gates, and in the blink of an eye, you've left the town of Lockwood behind you. Lavinet does not look back as you go. The city and the sound of all its people recede behind you, like the tide when the moon is high, or like a dream on the edge of waking. <<nobr>><<if $lockwood is not "new">> <<if $elementaljoin is true>> Then you feel a warmer breeze ruffle through your hair, like the hand of a friend, and a tiny, squeaking voice sounds suddenly in your ear. "The Elementals are with you, <<c rank>> <<c surname>>," the Wind Sprite whispers, nothing more than a palm-sized ball of air brushing your cheek. Your hair doesn't even stir, that's how small they've made themself. "If you should ever have a need of us, or if you should need to call us in the fight against the demons… only speak it into the wind, and we shall hear. We will stand with you…" <br><br> And then the voice fades away, before you can respond, and the warmth on your neck slips back to winter chill. You glance around, but no one else has seemed to notice or hear your exchange. You shake your head and sigh. Figures. As soon as you stop hearing one voice in your head, another pops in to take its place. <br><br> But it's good to know that you have allies in the Elementals, should you ever need them. It's a comforting thought to bring with you back to Haven. <<elseif $elementalhalfjoin is true>> Then you feel a warmer breeze ruffle through your hair, like the hand of a friend, and a tiny, squeaking voice sounds suddenly in your ear. "Angant Hainn sends word, <<c rank>>," the Wind Sprite whispers, nothing more than a palm-sized ball of air brushing your cheek. Your hair doesn't even stir, that's how small they've made themself. "He personally commands a platoon of soldiers, fifty-strong. While the Elder Council will not send more, he pledges this: if you should ever have a need, speak it into the wind, and you will have two-score strong fighters at your side in the fight against the demons. Only call for us, and we will answer. Until then…" <br><br> And then the voice fades away, before you can respond, and the warmth on your neck slips back to winter chill. You glance around, but no one else has seemed to notice or hear your exchange. You shake your head and sigh. Figures. As soon as you stop hearing one voice in your head, another pops in to take its place. <br><br> But it's good to know that you have some allies in the Elementals, even if it's not the entire army. It's a comforting thought to bring with you back to Haven. <</if>> <<else>> Then you feel a warmer breeze ruffle through your hair, like the hand of a friend, and a tiny, squeaking voice sounds suddenly in your ear. "The Elementals stand with you, Ilvos," the Wind Sprite whispers, nothing more than a palm-sized ball of air brushing your cheek. Your hair doesn't even stir, that's how small they've made themself. "Angant Hainn sends his regrets: he would have attended your departure, but he was called away on other business. But he will speak to you, through us, and check in on you from time to time; and the Elder Council honors you before each summit, and holds you in their thoughts, and blesses some children with your name. Remember, if you should ever have a need of us, call us with the Horn of the Ancients. We are your friends, and we will always be near…" <br><br> And then the voice fades away, before you can respond, and the warmth on your neck slips back to winter chill. You glance around, but no one else has seemed to notice or hear your exchange. You shake your head and sigh. Figures. As soon as you stop hearing one voice in your head, another pops in to take its place. <br><br> But then you smile to yourself. <i>Friends</i>. It is a nice word to hear on the wind. <</if>><</nobr>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "journey7back">><<set $lavinetjoin to true>><</link>></center>

<<achieve "achieve_noblesseoblige">><<notify_achievement "Noblesse Oblige" "Recruited the powerful noblewoman and chevalier Lavinet Naveen.">> The journey back to Haven is uneventful, save for a night when you stop over in the small town of Orilon, a popular logging destination on the Idrun river. You're eating at a table with your team when you overhear a pair of river sailors gossiping in concerned, animated tones unusual for the standard barroom tittle-tattle. They're talking about the Autarch. "Word on the river is that she's sicker and sicker," one sailor says, his brow furrowed. "That's nothing new," his companion grunts. "Been that way for years, hasn't she?" "Yes, but…" The sailor hesitates, then looks around furtively before bending his chin low over his tankard. "They're sayin' her line's lost the favor of the One-God. <<nobr>><<if $hierophanttruth is true>> On account of that Hierophant in the West, and then there's the second son—" <<else>> On account of that second son—" <</if>><</nobr>> His companion claps a grimy hand over the first sailor's mouth. "You say any more of that," he says, very calmly, "and I'll cut your tongue out myself. Her agents are everywhere. You <i>stop talking</i> before you get us both executed. Now." And he glances over at you, his eyes flicking down to your sun medallion. You look away, suddenly feeling too queasy to eat. A courier wearing the colors of the Relay Riders appears suddenly at your table, <<nobr>><<if $auberonsnobles is true and $lockwood is not "elementals">> passing you an envelope with a red wax seal. Lavinet's eyes narrow instantly as she seems to recognize the symbol on that seal. The letter isn't addressed outwardly, but a peek inside tells you that it's a summons from Auberon and Isolde, whose estate is about a day's ride from where you are now. The message reads: <b><i>It's time. Come to the Eddon estate. Sunset tomorrow.</i></b> <br><br> You glance up to find everyone's eyes watching you keenly. <br><br> Briony frowns and says, "Who's that, <<c firstname>>?" <br><br> "It's from the Eddons," Lavinet says, leaning back and folding her arms, her manicured nails tapping lightly against her skin. "Auberon and Isolde. Care to divulge why you might be receiving a message from them?" <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "incomp7journey">><</link>></center> <<elseif $lockwood is not "elementals">> passing Lavinet an envelope with a red wax seal. The Relay Riders are the private messenger service that spans much of the civilized Continent: they have stations in nearly every major city, and they ride from waypoint to waypoint, passing off letters to each other in a great relay. They're much faster than the standard mail caravan, but incredibly expensive to hire, so you surmise that whomever sent this letter must be a noble or someone of similar status. <br><br> Lavinet scans the letter quickly, then tucks it away without comment and gifts the rider a generous tip. The young woman bobs a quick bow and melts away back into the crowd. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Ask her what the letter is about.' 'ask7her'>><<setintelligence +1>><<setcourage +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Turn back to your meal. It seems like personal business.' 'lavicurse'>><<setcharisma +1>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li> </ul> <<else>> passing Lavinet an envelope with a red wax seal. The Relay Riders are the private messenger service that spans much of the civilized Continent: they have stations in nearly every major city, and they ride from waypoint to waypoint, passing off letters to each other in a great relay. They're much faster than the standard mail caravan, but incredibly expensive to hire, so you surmise that whoever sent this letter must be a noble or someone of similar status. <br><br> Lavinet scans the letter quickly, then tucks it away without comment and gifts the rider a generous tip. The young woman bobs a quick bow and melts away back into the crowd. <br><br> "What was that about, Lavi?" Briony asks her, blithely ignoring social conventions and privacy. "A letter from home?" <<nobr>><<if ($sawisolde is true or $intelligence gte 60) or $cunning gte 50>> <br><br> You don't think so. You glanced at the wax seal as Lavinet was reading the letter: it's the griffin and rose crest of the Eddons, Auberon and Isolde. <</if>><</nobr>> <br><br> Lavinet glances up at you, then clears her throat and takes a sip of her drink. "It's Auberon and Isolde," she says, her tone light and unreadable. "They've begun their campaign against me, looking to further smear my name after the disaster with the Elementals. They're using the fact that I summoned the Shepherds to Lockwood as another way to discredit me." <br><br> Briony immediately winces. "Oh, no. I'm so sorry…" <br><br> "So am I," Lavinet says with a bitter little laugh. "Because they're working to discredit the Shepherds, too, as people who can't be trusted. Diminished sycophants and traitors is the polite term being used, I think. Just more ammunition for those who had their doubts about working with the Shepherds." She looks up at you again, taking a deep draught of iced bristic. "Seems we've all been set several steps back." <br><br> An awkward silence falls over you then, and shortly after, Lavinet turns in for the night. You and the others try to carry on, but the tension is palpable, and you find yourself longing to see Haven, to have some excuse to get away from the stress. You're hopeful you'll see the city by the end of the week—but it's a feeble, lifeless kind of hope. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "your7journey">><<if ($nobles lt 70 or $charisma lt 80) or $reputation lt 80>><<setreputation -10>><<set $nobles -= 50>><<if $noblejoin is true>><<set $army -=2>><</if>><</if>><</link>></center> <</if>><</nobr>>

Lavinet sighs and shakes her head. "It's news from Lady Summerfield—how she knew where to find me, I'll never know. Anyway, it's nothing terribly urgent. Auberon and Isolde are up to their usual tricks, trying to claim credit for how things went in Lockwood. They're spreading the word that it was they who called the Shepherds there, not me." <<nobr>><<if $sawisolde is true>> <br><br> That's right, they outright told you they would try that. Did you tell Lavinet about Auberon and Isolde's proposal to you, back when you first arrived to the estate? <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Yes, you told her everything as soon as the Elementals were handled.' 'yes7you'>><<fair_plus "$lavinet" +10>><<set $toldlavi to true>><<fair_plus "$loyal" +10>><<setcompassionate +5>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'No, you forgot all about it.' 'no7you'>><<setlavinet -3>><<setintelligence -3>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'No, you deliberately kept silent on the matter.' 'no7deliberately'>><<fair_plus "$lavinet" -10>><<set $lavinetromanceflag to 0>><<fair_plus "$cunning" +10>><<setcompassionate -5>><</link>></li> </ul> <<else>> <br><br> <<include "briony7makes">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Lavinet was grateful to you for divulging the secret, but otherwise seemed wholly unsurprised. Still, you're sure that relevation helped her process things now, and prepared her for whatever machinations the Eddons have planned. <<include "briony7makes">>

At least she doesn't seem too blind-sided now. <<include "briony7makes">>

At least she doesn't seem too blind-sided, though you hope she's forgotten that you met with them in private. <<include "briony7makes">>

Briony makes a sympathetic hissing sound between her teeth. "I'm sorry, Lavi, that's awful. Is there anything we can do to help?" <<nobr>><<if $toldlavi is true>> Lavinet smiles and shakes her head. "<<c firstname>> had already informed me of this, so there's nothing left to do: I shifted my pieces, and now they are shifting theirs." She shrugs elegantly. "Don't worry; I've got them well in hand." <<if $lavinetromanceflag gte 10>> For some reason, you feel a thrill go through your stomach as she says this. There's something about Lavinet's careless, ruthless confidence that can be intoxicating, even breath-taking. It's hard to believe that anyone ever gets the best of her. <<else>> And from the glittering look of ruthless pleasure in her eyes, you believe her. You're glad you told her the truth: she would make a fearsome enemy for anyone who crosses her. The Eddons don't stand a chance. <</if>> <<else>> Lavinet forces a smile and takes a sip of her iced bristic. "Don't worry; it's a trivial thing. I'll have it all sorted by the time we get to Haven." <br><br> You wonder how she's going to accomplish <i>that</i>, but then again, you've learned to stop questioning how she does things once she sets her mind to them. <</if>><</nobr>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "lavicurse">><<if $toldlavi is true>><<if $nobles gte 70>><<setreputation +5>><<set $army += 1>><<set $nobles += 5>><<set $shepherdgold += 100>><<elseif $nobles gte 50>><<set $nobles += 5>><<setreputation +3>><</if>><<else>><<if $nobles gte 50 and $nobles lt 70>><<setreputation -5>><<set $nobles -= 10>><<elseif $nobles lt 50>><<setreputation -10>><<set $nobles -= 20>><<set $army -= 1>><<elseif $lavinet lt 50>><<setreputation -3>><<setnoble -5>><</if>><</if>><</link>></center>

"You know what I just thought of, Lavi?" Ayla asks then, apropos of nothing. She saws viciously at some stewed carrots. "I never heard you curse. Can you even?" Lavinet looks up with a distracted look on her face, arching a brow. "Can I swear, are you asking?" Ayla grins. "Yeah. You ever—I dunno, call someone a fucker, or something? You're probably going to need to learn, if you throw your lot in with the Shepherds. It's how a lot of us, you know, banter." Lavinet's preoccupied look fades into one of scandal. "Darling, I've never felt the need…" "Oh, come on, you must have," Briony laughs. "Every night I had to look at his face, I kept wanting to burst out and call that Auberon Eddon a sad, cox-combed, syphilitic asshole—" "My <i>dear</i>!" Lavinet looks positively appalled. Tallys bursts into a sudden peal of laughter. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"He was a real motherfucker."' 'he7was'>><<setlavinet +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Okay, leave Lavinet alone, her poor heart can\'t take it."' 'okay7leave'>><<if $gender is "male" and $lavinetromanceflag gte 5>><<set $lavinetromanceflag += 1>><<else>><<setlavinet -1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Continue your meal in silence.' 'continue7your'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Lavinet makes a strangled sound, and the others dissolve into fits of silly giggles. The farther away from Lockwood you get, the freer you begin to feel. The air out here is lighter. Lavinet's strange letter forgotten, you wile the night away together, hopeful that you'll see Haven by the end of the week. <<include "your7journey">>

She flushes angrily. "I beg your pardon!" she says, uncharacteristically flustered. "I can take it just fine, <<c firstname>>. I was only startled—most people don't say coarse words around ladies—but I won't wither from just a word—" "Oh, yeah?" Ayla goads. "Say something, then! Anything!" Lavinet's mouth drops open, and she blinks rapidly for a few moments. Then she stands, gathers her breath like an opera singer about to release that first powerful note, and says, "Isolde Eddon is… she is a real pigsticker!" <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "you7allerupt">><</link>></center>

You all erupt into a roar of laughter. "Ye <i>gods</i>," Briony screams, wiping a tear away from her eyes. "<i>Pigsticker</i>!" "I need to put that on a shirt!" Ayla howls, kicking her feet around. "Gods' blood—<i>my sides</i>—" "I can think of something better!" Lavinet protests, but you're too far gone, cackling like insane people. The farther away from Lockwood you get, the freer you begin to feel. The air out here is lighter. Lavinet's strange letter forgotten, you wile the night away together, hopeful that you'll see Haven by the end of the week. <<include "your7journey">>

Lavinet's strange letter forgotten, you wile the night away, hopeful that you'll see Haven by the end of the week. <<include "your7journey">>

/* comment set reputation +5, set auberonsnobles true, set auberongold "" */ /* comment separate reaction if MC agreed to a deal but chose to side with the Elementals, in which case Auberon and Isolde throw them under the bus */ [Sorry, this path is currently incomplete.] <br><br> [Summary: If you cut a deal with Auberon and Isolde Eddon, you essentially get the choice to either follow through with the deal, change your mind at the last minute, or screw them over at your testimony. All ways will result in a drop in relationships to Lavinet and the other team members unless you can persuade them to accept your reasons for keeping the deal a secret. The hit to their relationships is also smaller if you tell them the truth and either ignore the deal or plan to screw the Eddons over. If you follow through, you will visit them at their estate, give testimony that they are responsible for your successes in the last chapter, and essentially make life much harder for Lavinet. Doing this will lock her to hated status for the rest of the game. But you will receive more noble support and a boost to reputation, as well as the gold that you were promised. This route will be complete sometime in the future!] <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "your7journey">><</link>></center>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Your journey continues...</span></div></div>' "returntohaven">><</link>></center>

<<friendshipcalc>><<romancecalc>> <span class="splash">Some Time Later</span><span class="splashblur"></span>Finally, you make it home, and are strangely heartened by the sight of the tall, proud white towers and spires angling up into the pale blue sky as Haven towers on its cake-top plateau. It's late afternoon, and the streets are quiet, possibly because everyone is inside to escape the howling winter chill—it seems that the season's last bad squall is intent on moving in, after which the slow creep of spring should be on the horizon. You hardly see a soul as you ride up through Ashtown, pointing out the local landmarks to Lavinet. She's quiet: she's been to Haven before, she tells you, but has never seen Ashtown or even Smoketown. You wonder if the living conditions will be a shock to her. At this point, the grime-caked white cobblestones and tiny, cramped alleyways just feel familiar, even cozy to you… and when did that happen? Despite the strengthening howls of the winter wind, you hear the Shepherd guards at the top of the compound walls shout the news of your arrival, and by the time you stable your mounts, an entire greeting party is on the front steps to welcome you home. Some people step forward to meet Lavinet and make the standard introductions: you see one recruit offering to take her saddlebag, looking rather stunned when she smiles and curtsies to him. Briony, Ayla, and Tallys also move forward to greet their own people, calling out to friends and laughing and exchanging hugs or handshakes. <<nobr>><<if ($aro is true or $aroace is true) and $chasesex is false>> <br><br> <<include "friendsreunite">> <<else>> <br><br> <<include "romancereunite">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $highestromance is "blade">> <<include "bladereunite">> <<elseif $highestromance is "trouble">> <<include "troublereunite">> <<elseif $highestromance is "shery">> <<include "sheryreunite">> <<elseif $highestromance is "chase">> <<include "chasereunite">> <<elseif $highestromance is "riel">> <<include "rielreunite">> <<elseif $highestromance is "red">> <<include "redreunite">> <<else>> <<include "friendsreunite">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<if $highestfriendship is "blade" and $talkedtoblade is false>> <<include "bladereunite">> <<elseif $highestfriendship is "trouble" and $talkedtotrouble is false>> <<include "troublereunite">> <<elseif $highestfriendship is "shery" and $talkedtoshery is false>> <<include "sheryreunite">> <<elseif $highestfriendship is "chase" and $talkedtochase is false>> <<include "chasereunite">> <<elseif $highestfriendship is "riel" and $talkedtoriel is false>> <<include "rielreunite">> <<elseif $highestfriendship is "red" and $talkedtored is false>> <<include "redreunite">> <<elseif $blade gte 90 and $talkedtoblade is false>> <<include "bladereunite">> <<elseif ($trouble gte 85 and $talkedtotrouble is false)>> <<include "troublereunite">> <<elseif ($shery gte 80 and $talkedtoshery is false)>> <<include "sheryreunite">> <<elseif ($chase gte 85 and $talkedtochase is false)>> <<include "chasereunite">> <<elseif ($riel gte 85 and $talkedtoriel is false)>> <<include "rielreunite">> <<elseif ($red gte 80 and $talkedtored is false)>> <<include "redreunite">> <<else>> <<include "halekreunite">> <</if>>

<<nobr>> You turn and find Blade stepping forward, nodding to you. <<if $highestromance is "blade" and $bladeromanceflag gte 20>> He seems relieved to see you home safely—you can tell because his shoulders relax slightly—but curiously, he avoids your gaze. <<else>> He smiles faintly, in his subtle, half-gentle way. <</if>> "Welcome back, <<c firstname>>," he says. <<if $highestromance is "blade">> He clears his throat. <</if>> "You've been missed." You're not sure if he means by everyone, or if it's a circuitous way of implying that <i>he</i> missed you. <<if $highestromance is "blade" and $bladeromanceflag gte 25>> Then his eyes flicker up to yours, briefly, before roving over your body, checking for hidden injuries, new signs of secret hurts. "Are you well?" he asks, even softer now, hard to hear over the whistling of the wind. A worried crease has appeared in his brow. "The letters did not present a clear picture of your… health." <br><br> You smile at him reassuringly. You've been around him long enough by now that you know this is his subversive way of showing that he cares: what he's really asking is, <i>Are you hurt, did anyone hurt you, were you safe?</i> "I'm fine, Blade," you tell him. You raise your arms a little and smile up into his tense eyes, noting the furrow at the corner of his mouth. "See? Nothing wrong." <br><br> He lets out a quick sort of exhale and looks away from you again, awkward now—but the furrow goes away. "Good," he says, staring staidly into the distance once more. "That's… good. Optimal." <</if>> <br><br> Then he thrusts forward a few envelopes at you. "Here. Some mail came for you, while you were gone." <br><br> You stare down at the letters before accepting them. <<if $highestromance is "blade" and $bladeromanceflag gte 20>> You notice how careful he is not to touch you as he passes them over. <</if>> "And… why do you have them?" <br><br> Blade blinks, then looks at you, slightly puzzled, his brow creasing again. "I kept them for you," he says, as if that explains everything. "In case anyone stole them." <br><br> …Sometimes he makes absolutely no sense to you at all. <<if $talkedto < 1>> <br><br> Lavinet steps forward, then, and you shuffle to make room as Blade turns to her and speaks to her in the stiff, distant tones that he uses whenever he greets a stranger. Others clamor for your attention, distracting you for a second. <</if>> <</nobr>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "check">><<set $talkedto += 1, $talkedtoblade to true>><</link>></center>

<<nobr>> Then you hear a low, excited shout, and you look up to see Trouble taking the steps down two at a time to catch you up into a rough, warm hug that lifts you off of your feet. He smells, as always, comfortingly of warm leather, smoke, and a little of something fresh, like hay or grass or sunlight. Then he releases you and grins, <<if $highestromance is "trouble">> chucking you gently on the chin. You've noticed that he's been touching you quite a lot recently: tugging on locks of your hair, guiding you with a hand on your back, patting you familiarly on the hip or wrapping his arm around you. He doesn't even seem to realize that he's doing it. <<elseif $highestfriendship is "trouble">> tousling your hair fondly. <</if>> <<if $noblejoin is true or $elementaljoin is true>> "Stop amassing giant armies of new recruits every time you leave, would you?" he jokes. <<else>> "Stop going off and changing the world every time you leave, would you?" he jokes. <</if>> He's beaming at you, practically glowing, shining his smile directly into your eyes; he shakes you lightly. "You're making the rest of us look bad." <<if $highestromance is "trouble" and $troubleromanceflag gte 15>> Then he stops and stares at you for a moment, and his smile shrinks a little, and you hold his gaze for just a little too long. He glances away and drops his hands, scratching at the back of his neck like he's touched something burning and is too embarrassed to admit that it hurt him. He plays it off in the next moment, though. <</if>> <br><br> You huff at him. "Do you really care about me making you look bad? It's not as if you have a sense of shame." <br><br> He grins again. "Nah, I don't care. I just missed you. Little wretch." <<if $highestromance is "trouble" and $troubleromanceflag gte 20>> He plants a big, sloppy kiss on your cheek for emphasis. <<else>> He gives you a squeeze around your shoulders and tousles your hair again, very magnanimous and fond. <</if>> <<if $talkedto < 1>> <br><br> Lavinet steps forward then, and Trouble releases you to shake her hand, and you hear him say, "Hey, I've heard a lot about you," in his careless, affable way, and she smiles. Others clamor for your attention, and you're distracted from their conversation to greet the others. <</if>> <</nobr>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "check">><<set $talkedto += 1, $talkedtotrouble to true>><</link>></center>

<<nobr>> Then you look up, and Chase is there, smiling at you in his hood-eyed, sleepy way. He descends the steps at a casual, languid pace, <<if $chaseromance is true or $chasesex is true>> then slings an arm around your shoulders familiarly and begins to shuttle you back up the stairs, almost without saying a word. "<<c nickname>>," he says genially. "I was afraid I'd done something terribly wrong, to keep you away for so long. I'm glad to see that wasn't the case." His tone is very light, but he doesn't look around as he steers you into the compound. <br><br> You twist against his grip, confused. "What are you doing?" <br><br> <<if $chaseromance is true or $chaseromanceflag gte 25>> He surprises you by pressing a hard kiss to the crown of your head. <<else>> He leans over to speak into your ear. <</if>> "Well," he whispers, his breath warm against your cheek and neck, "you've been gone an <i>awful</i> long time. And I've been having all sorts of lickerish fantasies about what I'd do to you once you got back. Figured you'd want to keep the reunion private. Unless you want to have it out here? I'm fine with that, too." <br><br> You peer around at him; he grins and winks at you, perfectly pleasant and light-hearted, but his green eyes have just that hint of seriousness that makes your heart flutter. You're not able to respond, though, because a voice halts you both in your tracks. <br><br> "Don't go sneaking off with <<c halfname>> yet," someone says, admonishing—you think it's Trouble. "We want to see $them, too." <br><br> Chase sighs and releases you, but not before shooting you a wry sidelong look. "As you wish. But make it quick, will you?" <br><br> "Why?" <br><br> That rogueish smirk plays around his mouth again. "I'll tell you when you're older." <br><br> Trouble makes a gagging sound. <<else>> then stops, looking you up and down and sighing dramatically. "What <i>am</i> I going to do with you?" he asks, as if speaking to some invisible audience. "I thought <i>I</i> was unreliable, but every time you take off, it feels like you disappear for a month and then come back with some new army behind you. Too busy to come home to little old me?" <br><br> You grin. "I'm here, aren't I?" <br><br> He smiles, sleepy-eyed and sly. "So that means you missed me?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Did you miss me?"' 'did7you'>><<setchase +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Yes, I missed you."' 'yes7imissed'>><<setchase +3>><<if $chaseromanceflag gte 7>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Nah, not at all."' 'nah7not'>><</link>></li> </ul> <</if>> <</nobr>> <<include "then7lavinet">>

He pauses, for just the briefest second, before smiling at you; it almost looks nervous. "Yes," he admits. "I suppose I did." He doesn't look wholly comfortable with the realization, but in the next second, he's shrugged it off. <<include "then7lavinet">>

He pauses, for just the briefest second, before smiling at you; it almost looks nervous. "First time anyone's ever said that," he says lightly. It reads as a joke, but his eyes glance away from you. In the next second, however, he's shrugged it off. <<include "then7lavinet">>

He snorts. <<nobr>><<if $compassionate lt 50>> "It's true what they say. You really are a grade-A asshole." <<else>> "The people of Haven would be shocked to hear the news: you're not a goody two-shoes at all. You go straight for the throat." <</if>><</nobr>> "Takes one to know one." "Yeah, I suppose that's true, too." <<include "then7lavinet">>

<<if $talkedto < 1>> Then Lavinet is stepping forward, and you shuffle to make room as Chase turns to meet her, saying cheerfully, "By God, that's an expensive coat. The designer's Gavreau, isn't it? I fenced a bunch of those once, it could have fed me for a year." She gives a high, startled laugh, but then others are clamoring for your attention, so you're distracted from their conversation as you turn to greet them, and you lose them in the close-knit crowd. <br><br> <</if>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "check">><<set $talkedto += 1, $talkedtochase to true>><</link>></center>

<<nobr>> Then you look up, and you see that Riel is there, stepping forward to say hello to you. For just the briefest moment, you see him hesitate, as if he's not entirely sure what to do: in the end, he holds out his hand for you to shake. <<if $riel gte 70 or $rielromanceflag gte 10>> This is rare: Riel rarely touches people of his own accord. <</if>> His palm is cool and smooth against yours, like marble. <br><br> "<<c firstname>>," he says, very professional and brisk. "I take it your journey was passable?" <br><br> His word choice throws you off for a moment. "Yes, it was fine." <br><br> He nods, <<if $rielromanceflag gte 10 and $highestromance is "riel">> then tucks his hands behind him and looks all around at the courtyard, as if searching for something. "I look forward to your debriefing." A pause. "You always have the most fascinating things to say." Another pause. "Not that you are <i>innately</i> more fascinating than anyone else… or any more complex, I mean. What I mean to say is…" <br><br> "Holy shit," Chase says from behind him, slouching with his hands in his pockets, looking faintly horrified. "Get a <i>room</i>. Do you wear boxers or briefs, $nickname? Because you can bet he's definitely looking forward to <i>de-briefing</i> you…" <br><br> Riel, very briefly, looks absolutely murderous. Then he smooths his hair and goes back to utter blankness. "I could ruin you, Trinaeste." <br><br> "With what, Syndran? Can't figure out how much money I've got if I don't keep financial records." <<if $chasetime gt 1>> He winks at you. "Hael, I don't even know how to <i>read</i>." <</if>> <br><br> Riel fusses with one of his cufflinks and mutters something very dark under his breath. <<else>> looking thoughtful. "I look forward to debriefing you. You always have the most interesting things to report. The Elementals… the Landsmeet… it all sounds utterly fascinating." He pauses for a moment, then amends: "Of course, I am also glad that you are home safely." <br><br> You smirk a little. "Why, because if I didn't get home safely, you'd have no one to debrief?" <br><br> "There are the others," Riel returns dryly. "But they're never quite as detailed as you." <br><br> "Glad to hear that all I'm good for is <i>detail</i>." <br><br> He doesn't smile, but he makes a kind of exhalation through his nose. "I also enjoy your company, from time to time." <</if>> <<if $talkedto < 1>> <br><br> Then Lavinet is stepping forward, and Riel's face becomes the unreadable, professional face he employs with business associates. He shakes her gloved hand with his own, and they murmur in formal voices to each other; but other voices clamor for your attention, so you shuffle to make room and turn away to greet the others for the moment. <</if>> <</nobr>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "check">><<set $talkedto += 1, $talkedtoriel to true>><</link>></center>

<<nobr>> <<set $sherysdiary to true>>Then you look up, and you see that Shery is there, her face shy but eager as she hurries forward to greet you. She has a pile of books clutched in her arms, as usual—she must have been in the middle of something and took off running when she heard that you were back—and she trips and stumbles a little on the stairs, all but falling into you. You steady her, and your travel bag slips off your shoulder just as she drops all of her books; they scatter down the stairs like colorful leaves, and Shery gives a mortified hiss. <br><br> "Oh," she squeaks, kneeling to scramble for the books, "I'm sorry—I didn't mean to do that—" <br><br> You kneel and help her gather the books. "It's okay, no harm done." When you look up again, you find that she's staring at you, a small smile parting her lips, the color high in her face. She looks breathless with relief and happiness. <<if $highestromance is "shery">> <br><br> Then she starts, looks away with a deep blush, and stammers, "Oh… um… welcome back!" <br><br> You smile at her and pass her the last of the books; you can't help but notice how your fingers brush as you do so, how warm her hand feels—the spark that jumps between you at the contact. "Thanks, Shery." <br><br> She looks like she's about to die, but she nods vigorously and backs away from you. <<else>> "Hi," she says quietly, practically glowing. <br><br> You smile back at her. "Hi." <</if>> <<if $talkedto < 1>> <br><br> Then Lavinet is stepping up, and you shuffle to make room as Shery drops a sweet little curtsy and says shyly, "Hello. I'm the quartermaster of the Shepherds…" and Lavinet looks utterly charmed. Other voices clamor for your attention, so you turn away for a moment and are distracted from their conversation. <</if>> <</nobr>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "check">><<set $talkedto += 1, $talkedtoshery to true>><</link>></center>

<<nobr>> Then you look up, and Red is there, grinning at you with genuine delight. <<if $highestromance is "red">> He gives you a quick, friendly hug—though you could swear that it lingers just a bit—before taking you by the shoulders and looking at your face. <<else>> He gives you a quick, friendly hug before stepping back and examining your face. <</if>> <br><br> "Hi," he says, as warm as ever. <br><br> You smile back at him. "Hi." <br><br> "Did everything go okay? Are you…" His green eyes dart over you quizzically. <br><br> You nod. "I'm fine. No injuries, or anything like that." <br><br> Red nods, looking thoughtful for a moment, as if he wants to say something else—like how he knows there are ways to not be fine that don't involve injuries—but for the moment, he forgoes saying whatever it is that popped into his head. Instead he says lightly, "That's good. Now, I'm sure you're eager to unburden yourself and tell someone all about these Elementals…" <br><br> You nearly groan. <i>Of course</i> he would be brimming with curiosity about a long-dead race! <br><br> "First of all, I've got to know about this death-coma they enter into," the other Mage begins. "The <i>akala</i>. I haven't found any mention of it in the texts, but I have found all sorts of fascinating hints about how the Landsmeet works, and how this 'remaking'-slash-reincarnation process goes, and there's a very interesting theory by Tarquin the Elder about the elemental spirits that we summon and Elementals…" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Glare at him good-naturedly. "I\'ve been gone for weeks, and this is really all you want to talk about?"' 'glare7at'>><<setred +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Hold up a hand. "Stop right there. You expect me to just give you all of this information, and you don\'t even offer to take me to dinner?" <b>[FLIRT]</b>' 'hold7up'>><<setred +3>><<set $redromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Humor him. "Tell me about Tarquin the Elder\'s theory first."' 'humor7him'>><<setred +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Cut him off. "Red, I really can\'t do this now."' 'cut7him'>><<setred -3>><<set $redromanceflag -= 5>><</link>></li> </ul> <</nobr>>

He pauses for a moment, blinking rapidly, before he snaps his jaw shut. "You're right," he says after a moment, having the decency to look abashed. "I'm an idiot, and you are a saint for putting up with me." Then he gives you that cheeky, boyish grin, and he doesn't look so embarrassed, after all. "I'll make it up to you?" <<nobr>><<if $highestromance is "red">> <<set $reddate to true>>You bat your eyelashes at him. "I'm looking forward to it." <br><br> He coughs, but doesn't look away, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'll, ah… come up with something nice." <<else>> "I'm looking forward to it," you answer primly. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "then7lavineti">>

For a moment, he looks at you as if his brain had just short-circuited. Then his face splits into that shy, boyish grin. "Ah, I didn't realize… that you would want dinner," he says after a moment, a bit lamely. You arch a brow at him. "Really?" His grin gets bigger. "Well—I'll do you one better. <<nobr>><<if $highestromance is "red">> Dinner, dessert, and a night under the stars. Does that sound satisfactory?" <<else>> Dinner <i>and</i> dessert. Does that meet your standards?" <</if>><</nobr>> You pretend to examine your fingernails. "I suppose…" Red looks pleased. "Good." <<nobr>><<if $redromanceflag gte 15>> <<set $reddate to true>>He clears his throat, and when he speaks again, you could swear his voice is just a bit deeper. "It's a date." <<else>> He bumps you familiarly with his shoulder. "You really do drive a hard bargain." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "then7lavineti">>

Red's face lights up, but he grins and shakes his head. "No, I've hogged the glory of your return for too long," he says. "But later. <<nobr>><<if $redromanceflag gte 15 or $highestromance is "red">> I'd love to get you alone and… pick your brain." <br><br> Then he looks vaguely horrified by what he just said. "Not, like—no. Never mind." <<else>> I'd love to get you alone and talk more. When you're rested and ready, of course." No matter how hard he tries, though, he can't conceal his excitement. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "then7lavineti">>

Red's smile dims, and he looks frankly embarrassed. "Gods, <<c halfname2>>, I'm sorry. I didn't even realize I was doing it. Kick me the next time I'm being a total ass, would you?" You pat him on the forearm. "Just remember that you gave me permission." <<include "then7lavineti">>

<<if $talkedto < 1>> Then Lavinet is stepping up, and you shuffle to make room as Red turns to her and greets her in a kind, diffident tone, shaking her hand; other voices clamor for your attention, so you glance away for a moment, distracted by the other conversations around you. <br><br> <</if>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "check">><<set $talkedto += 1, $talkedtored to true>><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<if ($aro is true or $aroace is true) and $talkedtohalek is false>> <<include "friendsreunite">> <<elseif $aro is true or $aroace is true and $talkedtohalek is true>> <<include "therest">> <<elseif $highestromance is $highestfriendship and $talkedto lt 2>> <<include "friendsreunite">> <<elseif $talkedto lt 2>> <<include "friendsreunite">> <<else>> <<include "therest">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Then you look up, and Halek is there, his hands in his pockets as his tall body slouches down the stairs. Fat flakes of snow are beginning to flutter down from the sky; when they fall into his white hair, they seem to disappear. Halek nods to you, as if he'd seen you just yesterday. "All right?" You nod back. "Yup." "Great." He suppresses a yawn, as laconic as ever. You notice a tuft of his hair is sticking up, as if he's just been shaken awake from one of his illicit naps and is still groggy. "Elementals?" "Yeah." "Sounds rough." "It kind of was." He looks sympathetic. "At least it's over, now." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "check">><<set $talkedto += 1, $talkedtohalek to true>><</link>></center>

Then the others are stepping forward, and there are shouts and cheers, and people ruffling your hair or punching your shoulder, and for that one moment, suspended in the flurry of the renewed snowfall, almost soundless with the weight of it—all you know is warmth and laughter and peace. You can't help but smile. Something in your heart flexes, a kind of tightness or pain, and you don't know if it makes you want to sing or cry. And then you notice that something is wrong. Everyone is wearing black. Not just the Shepherd uniforms, but the casual clothes, too—and their eyes look tired and strained, even as they joke with each other and you. The quiet of the city suddenly screams at you from under the wind. The twinge in your chest becomes something different altogether. You pull away for a moment. "What's happened?" you ask, looking from face to face. Black—mourning clothes—"Has something happened?" Tallys goes still beside you, and the smile drops from Briony's face. You look to the others, and Trouble sighs and glances up, and you notice for the first time how the Shepherd flag has been covered with a black banner that you've never seen before, hanging there like some warning from a god you've never heard of. Your heart goes cold. Blade grimaces and looks away from you; the group goes silent. "It's the Autarch," he says finally, his low, careful voice suddenly loud in the silence; the wind abruptly dies, and the black banner sags like a shed skin. "She's dead." <i>What?</i> "It only just happened," Riel confirms, looking back at you. "Everyone in the city knows. Sometime last night, the Autarch passed away." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "therestii">><</link>></center>

"How did it happen?" you ask later, once the cooks have fired up a warm dinner—more subdued than you were expecting, since you guessed they would have wanted to impress Lavinet. But she's been quiet all night, clearly shaken by the news, and you're told that the city has been in a mandatory state of mourning, which means indulgent foods and rich feasts will look tasteless at best and suspicious at worst. "The Sun Court isn't saying much, but given how calm everything has been, I think we can safely deduce that it was from natural causes," Riel says, stirring sugar into his tea. You're all seated together at one of the worn tables in the dining hall, surrounded by other tables of quiet, nervous recruits. There's still snow in Lavinet's furred cloak, you notice, apropos of nothing: no one thought to take it from her. <<nobr>><<if $cainejoin is true>> <br><br> Caine is there, too, sticking to you like a burr; he's perched on a little low stool and pretending to read a book, glancing up at you intermittently as if letting you out of his sight will result in you disappearing again. Even he seems anxious, affected by the strange, despondent mood that's gripped the city. You wonder if he truly understands what's going on: what it means for an Autarch, a leader he's never seen or thought much about, to die. <</if>><</nobr>> "She was sick for a long time," Halek remarks, the indifference clear in his tone. Although he lacks the impassioned hatred of many of the Hunters who were personally ousted from the city by the previous Autarch, he still always disliked the current—no, the most recent—one on principle. "So far as we could tell," Tallys muses. "Even the rumors about her illness were always impossible to prove or verify. She always seemed so…" She gropes for the right word. "Mythical?" Red proposes. "Unreachable? Larger than life?" "That's because of the rhetoric surrounding her, of course," Riel says in his clipped, perfunctory way. The way he says it suggests that he wanted to say <i>propaganda</i>, instead, but refrained. Even with the Autarch gone, old habits die hard. "She was always made out to be a kind of demi-god, certainly some holy figure blessed and handpicked by the One-God Xerself. An idol like that… it's hard to imagine her simply getting old, let alone passing away in such a mundane, everyday fashion. It didn't help that the public rarely saw her, if ever. If I didn't know better, I would have proposed that she'd never existed at all: she simply could have been a name and shield by which others in the Consortium could enact their plans. The idea of her dying of old age or sickness… well. It's as if we've been told that the world woke up to find that a famous mountain or a city was no longer there. As if it simply vanished overnight." "Feels weird," Trouble says eloquently. You nod. It does feel weird. <<include "autarchdead">>

<ul class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("when7was")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"When was the last time an Autarch died?"</div>' 'when7was'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("how7old")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"How old was she?"</div>' 'how7old'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("turn7blade")>><<if $bladetime gte 3 and $blade gte 60>><<link '<div class="question-item">Turn to Blade. "You met her. What was she like?"</div>' 'turn7blade'>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Turn to Blade. "You met her. What was she like?"</div>'>><</link>><</if>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("how7did")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"How did everyone find out?"</div>' 'how7did'>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link 'Look around at them all. "So what happens now?"' 'therestiii'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Red does the math in his head, but Riel beats him to it. "Seventy-one years ago," he says. "A long time. Her predecessor was also blessed with a long life." He means, of course, that her predecessor didn't meet a violent end: you don't think any Autarch has, not since the Castigation. Then again, if they had, steps would have been taken to ensure none of you ever knew about it. <<include "autarchdead">>

Shery shakes her head. "No one knows," she says softly. "Things like that… aren't talked about, not really. She was… holy, you know, untouchable. We weren't supposed to know things about her like age, or her favorite color, or anything like that." <<include "autarchdead">>

He considers it for a moment, staring at his cup of untouched black khav. Finally he shrugs one shoulder and says, "She was enigmatic. Physically frail when I met her, but undeniably steely and commanding in spirit. She was clever and shrewd. Strangely patient, sometimes empathetic. Thoughtful, occasionally even generous if not kind—though there was always the sense that her position constrained her from showing her hand too much. She did not tend to mind the sorts of things you would expect her to care about. But she could be ruthless, too. Of course." He makes a Ket gesture, hard to decipher in meaning. "I respected her. Enough." "Did you meet her often?" Lavinet asks then, stirring a little. She's wrapped her gloved hands around a mug of warm chocolate. Blade shakes his head. "A handful of times. After that, I mainly submitted my reports to a minister that she put in charge of overseeing our affairs. They never said so, but it seemed she was too ill to handle such matters in person, anymore." <<include "autarchdead">>

"The Sun Court raised a black flag, sometime in the night," Chase says, picking idly at the crumbs of his sandwich. "A lot of people didn't know what that meant, it's never happened in most people's lifetimes. But the people who did know spread the word, and come dawn, there were town criers running through, decrees being posted on the neighborhood boards. There's no doubt about it. She's dead. I expect the news is spreading across the Continent, even now." "How do they stop everyone from full-out panicking?" Ayla asks then. "Or revolting, for that matter? I expect a lot of rebels have been waiting for this opportunity—now's a good time to cause some mayhem, I should think." Blade makes a subtle face at that, and Tallys and Halek glance at each other. "They've thought of all of that," Chase says, sitting back and placing his ankle on the opposite knee, making an airy gesture with his hand. "The Army of the Sun, the Vice Guard, <i>and</i> the Inquisitors are out in full force. No one'd dare try a thing, at least not here in Haven. Fringes of the Autarchy, <i>maybe</i>. But here, you so much as look a little too happy, and they'll shoot you on sight." "It works both ways, I suppose," Briony murmurs, twisting her fingers in thought. "Although the civilians could run wild, there's also no authority right now to stop the military from doing the same. They think they've got to keep order, and they're upset about the loss of their leader, and looking for people to take it out on, to feel in control again… so now might actually be the worst time to test them, because there's no one to keep them in line if they go too far." "If it was so easy to loosen the grip of the Autarchy with a single person's death," Riel adds dryly, "it would not have ruled the world for this long." <<include "autarchdead">>

Most of them look back at you, uncertain, as if they don't know themselves. Chase says, "The whole Continent goes into mourning, I guess. State-imposed grief, thirty-three days." "I asked some of the old folks around the neighborhood, the ones who still remember the last Autarch's death or heard stories about it from their kin," Trouble says. "They said everyone's got to wear black, or black armbands if you've got a uniform, especially out in public. The Inquisitors catch you dressing normal, they'll drag you out to the Chrysalis first thing. They won't brook any disrespect towards their fallen leader." "And it's not any written rule, but children aren't playing in the streets, and many shops aren't open," Shery adds, her voice soft and anxious. <<nobr>><<if $cainejoin is true>> She looks to Caine, who frowns. "Do you hear that, Caine? You have to be careful not to draw attention to yourself, especially out in the street. Please tell your friends, too." <br><br> "All right," he says after a moment. "I'll tell 'em. But probably their parents know already." He looks hesitant for a moment. "D'you think my mom will be okay?" <ul class="choices"> <<if $cainetime gt 0>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"She\'s fine, Caine. She\'s all the way in Lindell, as far away from this mess as possible."</div>' 'shes7fine'>><<setcompassionate +3>><<setcharisma +3>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">"She\'s fine, Caine. She\'s all the way in Lindell, as far away from this mess as possible."</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link '"We don\'t know anything right now."' 'we7dont'>><<fair_plus "$charisma" -10>><<setshery -3>><<set $sheryromanceflag -= 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Ignore him.' 'ignore7him'>><<setshery -3>><</link>></li> </ul> <<else>> <br><br> "The churches are, though," Trouble grunts. "They're packed to the gills, I heard." <br><br> "People praying for the Autarch's soul?" Tallys asks. <br><br> "Fuck no. She's holy and all, she don't need their prayers. They're praying that they pick her successor real quick, and that chaos doesn't break out before then. It's the uncertainty that scares them, right? The thought of her being damned or anything like that never even crossed their minds: <i>her</i> destination is assured. She's with the One-God, or whatever. They're worried about <i>themselves</i>." <br><br> <<include "so7well">> <</if>><</nobr>>

He relaxes somewhat and smiles at you. "Yeah," he says, heartened. "You're right." <<include "so7well">>

Shery frowns at you, a rare expression, before turning to him and saying in a soothing voice, "I'm sure your mother is fine, Caine. She's very far away, and she probably won't hear about any of this until long after the trouble has passed. Why don't you write a letter to her later?" He nods hesitantly, glancing at you before returning to his book. <<include "so7well">>

"So we'll keep things quiet," Blade says then, his low voice cold and decisive. "Avoid drawing any attention to ourselves. Let the Vice Guard handle maintaining order in the streets, and the Inquisitors matters of sedition. We'll carry on with our duties as normal, unless we're told otherwise by the new leadership." <i>New leadership.</i> That sends a chill through your blood. None of you have forgotten that it was this past Autarch who spearheaded the founding of the Shepherds, pushed its creation through and personally ensured that it had the resources and the autonomy needed to effectively combat the demonic threat—despite all of the opposition she must have faced from her courtiers and politicians, or even from the general public. What will happen to the Order, now that someone else is going to take her place? "Have you heard any word?" you ask Blade. "From… the Sun Court?" His mouth tightens, and he shakes his head. "Nothing." "Is that… normal?" He makes a contemptuous noise. "We do not often… communicate. So it could be normal." "Or it could be a deliberate signal that they're boxing us out," Chase says thoughtfully. "Deciding our fates, and all that." "Who's going to be the new Autarch?" Briony asks then, her voice worried and her brow furrowed. Her leg vibrates with anxious energy. "There's that older son, isn't there, the religious fanatic in charge of the Inquisitors? And the younger one—the wild beast—I heard some folk calling him the Butcher of Bellenau." There's a weighty, dreadful silence at that. Finally Red says, clearing his throat: "No one knows who will succeed the old Autarch. There haven't been any official announcements made… and Hael, it could be that she named someone else as her successor, rather than one of her sons." "When will we find out?" Ayla demands. Riel shakes his head. "We don't know," he says. "The history texts indicate that they typically don't officially announce it until the end of the state mourning period—perhaps to deter enemies from making plans until the heir is ready to be officially installed on the throne." He pauses. "My feeling is that there is some issue with the line of succession, and they are deep in debate over the matter. A contact in the Consortium corroborates this. If that is the case, then we definitely won't hear a word until the period of mourning is over." Ayla makes an incredulous noise. "What do you mean, an issue with the succession? The Autarch was sick for ages. How could they not know who was going to replace her?" Riel sips his tea, then grimaces; apparently he made it too sweet. "We will have to wait and see," he says, and you watch as the firelight plays on his face, on all of their faces, making it look a bit as if you're in some transitory, indistinct place: a kind of purgatory, lit by fire and blood. "That's the worst part of it all. We just don't know what's going to happen." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "so7welli">><</link>></center>

It's not a comfortable thing to hear, but ultimately, you have to accept that Riel is right. So you return to your room, unpack your things, bathe, and lie down to try and sleep. But you just end up watching as the moonlight plays against your window, shifting in quicksilver and adamantine colors. What's going to happen? What if, one day, you wake up and the Order is disbanded? Or folded into some other branch of the government, yoked with more oversight and restrictions? Or your records are seized, and past violations of the rules that were tolerated or ignored by the old regime are now exposed to the scrutiny of much less generous souls? What if they start hauling officers away to the Chrysalis? What will happen with the demons then? What will happen with you? <<nobr>><<if $sherysdiary is true>> You sit up and sigh; you're not going to get any sleep like this. Maybe you should try reading—you picked up a novel, before you left Lockwood—and hope that somehow you'll wear your own thoughts out. <br><br> But when you reach into your travel pack, your hand withdraws with a book you don't think you've ever seen before. It's thin, pink and gold, more like a journal than a book, and when you flip it open to the bookmarked page, you realize with a jolt that it <i>is</i> a journal—<i>Shery's</i> journal, to be exact, since you immediately recognize the neat, tiny, girlish handwriting. <br><br> Oh no. It must have slipped into your bag when you were scrambling to help her pick all of those books up earlier. You make to shut the journal immediately, but you happen to see that the most recent dated entry is marked as today, and your name leaps out at you from the page. So she was writing about you? <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Shut the journal. You\'re not going to invade her privacy like this.' 'a7soft'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Take a little peek at the page. What she doesn\'t know can\'t hurt her, and you\'re burning with curiosity.' 'take7a'>><<set $sheryread to true>><</link>></li> </ul> <<elseif $chaseread is true>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>A soft knock sounds at your door.</span></div></div>' "soft7knock">><<set $chasenote to true>><</link>></center> <<elseif $cainejoin is true and $cainetime gte 1>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>A soft knock sounds at your door.</span></div></div>' "caine7knock">><</link>></center> <<else>> You spend the rest of the night watching the shadows slide across the wall, chasing the lone and solemn moon. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "next7weeks">><</link>></center> <</if>><</nobr>>

A knock sounds at your door. <<include "sherycomesforherdiary">>

<<nobr>><<if $compassionate gte 65>> Despite every moral instinct in you screaming at you to stop, you find yourself just glancing at the most recent diary entry. Just this once! <<else>> Eagerly, you read on. <</if>><</nobr>> <<set $loadPassage to Story.get("sherysdiaryentry").text;>> <<letter_holder "note" $loadPassage>> The next words are scratched out, and the entry ends there. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>A soft knock sounds at your door.</span></div></div>' "sherycomesforherdiary">><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="sheryswriting">I think the Lockwood team is due to return today. I can't wait to see them. I've become very fond of Briony—she's such a kind soul and always cheers me up whenever I see her—and I miss Tallys and her calming presence. I have to admit that without her, Trouble and Chase tend to run a bit wild… Tallys doesn't often get involved in their (or anyone's) antics, but when she does, they listen. The poor Commander has had his hands full all month. I'm excited to get to know Ayla more, as well! <br><br> Most of all, of course, I miss <<c firstname>>. I mentioned to Riel at lunch that I was excited to see $them, and immediately so many different people—recruits I've never spoken to, or who have never taken any notice of me—began to clamor and join in on the conversation, pressing me for more details. Everyone wants to get to know the great Hero of Haven. I even felt a bit guilty using $her name. Not because I was using it to get attention… but because I didn't feel totally worthy to be seen as part of the inner circle of such an esteemed, important person. <br><br> Everybody knows $her name in this Order, from the newest recruit to the most toughened veteran. <<c she>><<if $plural is true>>'ve<<else>>'s<</if>> touched so many lives. I've often thought of how there's a quality to <<c firstname>> that seems to affect everyone $she meet<<if $she is not "plural">>s<</if>>. It's like meeting $them, being around $them, changes you somehow. Fundamentally, in some way that's hard to describe. It's like there are two distinct versions of yourself: the version of you before you met $them, and the version of you <<if $sheryromanceflag gte 20>> after—the one that's been touched, brightened, set all aflame. <<else>> after. <</if>> <br><br> Riel calls it an epoch, a marker of time, like the beginning of an Age. A.<<print $firstname[0]>>., he calls it. After <<c firstname>>. Everything is different A.<<print $firstname[0]>>. <br><br> He was joking, of course, but I don't think I am. Not deep down. <<if $sheryromanceflag gte 20>> I don't know. My feelings continue to be so confusing. I don't want to worship <<c firstname>>, nothing like that. <<c she>> deserve<<if $plural is false>>s<</if>> to be known, not worshiped. But I don't feel worthy enough to…</span> <</if>> <br><br> <<else>> <i>I think the Lockwood team is due to return today. I can't wait to see them. I've become very fond of Briony—she's such a kind soul and always cheers me up whenever I see her—and I miss Tallys and her calming presence. I have to admit that without her, Trouble and Chase tend to run a bit wild… Tallys doesn't often get involved in their (or anyone's) antics, but when she does, they listen. The poor Commander has had his hands full all month. I'm excited to get to know Ayla more, as well!</i> <br><br> <i>Most of all, of course, I miss <<c firstname>>. I mentioned to Riel at lunch that I was excited to see $them, and immediately so many different people—recruits I've never spoken to, or who have never taken any notice of me—began to clamor and join in on the conversation, pressing me for more details. Everyone wants to get to know the great Hero of Haven. I even felt a bit guilty using $her name. Not because I was using it to get attention… but because I didn't feel totally worthy to be seen as part of the inner circle of such an esteemed, important person.</i> <br><br> <i>Everybody knows $her name in this Order, from the newest recruit to the most toughened veteran. <<c she>><<if $plural is true>>'ve<<else>>'s<</if>> touched so many lives. I've often thought of how there's a quality to <<c firstname>> that seems to affect everyone $she meet<<if $she is not "plural">>s<</if>>. It's like meeting $them, being around $them, changes you somehow. Fundamentally, in some way that's hard to describe. It's like there are two distinct versions of yourself: the version of you before you met $them, and the version of you </i><<if $sheryromanceflag gte 20>> after—the one that's been touched, brightened, set all aflame.</i> <<else>> after.</i> <</if>> <br><br> <i>Riel calls it an epoch, a marker of time, like the beginning of an Age. A.<<print $firstname[0]>>., he calls it. After <<c firstname>>. Everything is different A.<<print $firstname[0]>>.</i> <br><br> <i>He was joking, of course, but I don't think I am. Not deep down.</i> <<if $sheryromanceflag gte 20>> <i>I don't know. My feelings continue to be so confusing. I don't want to worship <<c firstname>>, nothing like that. <<c she>> deserve<<if $plural is false>>s<</if>> to be known, not worshiped. But I don't feel worthy enough to…</i> <</if>> <br><br> <</if>> <</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $cunning gte 50>> Hastily, you set the diary aside and move to answer the door. <br><br> <<else>> Jumping, you hurry to answer the door, forgetting that you're still holding the diary in the process. <br><br> <</if>><</nobr>> Lo and behold, it's Shery who stands in the doorway, her long hair tied to the side of her face in a fashion that you've never seen before. It looks like she was in the midst of getting ready for bed: she's wearing thick, fuzzy pyjamas and slippers that almost make her look comically petite and soft in comparison to the austere surroundings of the Shepherds' compound. Her face, however, is utterly mortified. <<nobr>><<if $cunning lt 50>> <br><br> Especially when her eyes land on what you're holding. The color drains from her face. <</if>><</nobr>> "I'm so sorry to bother you," she says in a rush, "and especially so late… did I wake you up? Oh, I must have—I should have waited until the morning, but now we're here, so it's better to just ask you now instead of having woken you up for nothing—" You hold up a hand to stop her nervous chatter. "You didn't wake me up, Shery." She blinks rapidly, then swallows. "Oh! Um… that's wonderful to hear. Still, I'm sorry for the intrusion. I, erm—this is embarrassing, but I think… earlier, when we bumped into each other… I think we—well, one of my books must have fallen into your bag, or something, and I was just wondering if you'd… seen it?" <<nobr>><<if $cunning lt 50>> Her eyes go again to the diary that you're holding, but she seems to feel too awkward to point it out so bluntly. <br><br> You hold up the diary. "Do you mean this?" <<else>> <br><br> You turn and fetch the diary from your desk, where you'd stashed it. "Do you mean this?" <</if>><</nobr>> Shery's cheeks go pink. "Yes, that's it," she says breathlessly. "Thank you—I'm so sorry to trouble you about it, only I couldn't sleep without knowing where it was…" She accepts the book from you with both hands, then tucks it protectively against her chest, hugging it to her like it's a bullet-proof shield. Then she says, staring at every direction except the one you're in: "You didn't, um… did you happen to…?" She glances up at you, then hastily looks away, turning redder and redder as she stands there. Her embarrassment is almost painful. "I mean, it's understandable if you did, since I'm sure you never expected to find it there among your things…" She seems very distressed. <<include "sherysdiary">>

<ul class="choices"> <<if $sheryread is true>><li><<link 'Lie. "No, I didn\'t read it."' 'no7ididnt'>><<if $cunning gte 70 and $charisma gte 50>><<setcunning +3>><<setcharisma +3>><<else>><<fair_plus "$shery" -20>><<set $sheryromanceflag -= 10>><<set $sheryknowread to true>><</if>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $sheryread is true>><li><<link 'Tell the truth. "I... read the most recent page. I\'m sorry."' 'tell7the'>><<set $sheryknowread to true>><<fair_plus "$courage" +10>><<setcompassionate +3>><<if $compassionate gte 80 or $shery gte 80 or $sheryromanceflag gte 25>><<setshery +3>><<else>><<fair_plus "$shery" -10>><<set $sheryromanceflag -= 5>><</if>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $sheryread is false>><li><<link 'Reassure her. "I would never violate your privacy like that."' 'reassure7her'>><<if $gender is "female">><<set $sheryromanceflag += 3>><</if>><<fair_plus "$shery" +10>><<setcompassionate +5>><<setcharisma +1>><<setcourage +1>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $sheryread is false>><li><<link 'Tease her. "I never read it, but I have to wonder what dirty secrets you\'re keeping in there..."' 'tease7her'>><<setcharisma +3>><<if $sheryromanceflag gte 20>><<set $sheryromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("you7nnervous")>><<if $sheryromanceflag gte 20>><<link '<div class="talk-item">Take her hands. "You don\'t have to be so nervous around me, Shery."</div>' 'you7nnervous'>><<set $sheryromanceflag += 3>><<setcharisma +3>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Take her hands. "You don\'t have to be so nervous around me, Shery."</div>'>><</link>><</if>><</if>> </ul>

<<nobr>><<if $cunning gte 70 and $charisma gte 50>> You're cunning and resourceful enough that she instantly believes it: you can see it in the way her apprehension melts into relief. "Oh," she breathes, her shoulders relaxing. "Th… thank you." She blushes and smiles at you a little. "For telling me the truth. I'm glad you didn't. Read it, I mean. Not that there's anything bad about you in it." Then her expression changes into one of panic. "Or anything about you at all! Or… er… what I mean to say is… there's a <i>normal</i> amount of you in it, but it's still p-personal, but not <i>oddly</i> personal, so…" <br><br> She covers her mouth, now horrified by what she's saying. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"You\'re cute when you\'re flustered." <b>[FLIRT]</b>' 'sherythankyou'>><<if $gender is "female">><<set $sheryromanceflag += 1>><<setshery +1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You\'re very high-strung, aren\'t you?"' 'youre7very'>><<setshery -3>><<set $sheryromanceflag -= 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Laugh it off out of mercy. "Don\'t worry about it."' 'sherythankyou'>><</link>></li> </ul> <<else>> "Oh." Shery forces a smile, but you're not sure she believes you, judging by the wide, fearful set of her eyes. "That's… that's good…" <br><br> You stand there in awkward silence for a moment before she suddenly turns away. "Um… well… good night!" <br><br> She scurries off before you can say anything more, vanishing down the hall with a flap of her slippers. <br><br> … <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>You decide to get some rest...</span></div></div>' "next7weeks">><</link>></center> <</if>><</nobr>>

Her cheeks are pink, and she squeaks from around her hand, "Oh! Um… thank… you…" She trails off, staring at you blankly for a moment, before she blurts, "Would… would you want some hot chocolate, by any chance? I have a tin in my room, and since we're both already up…" She smiles at you timidly. "I just thought it would be nice to talk… Unless you're tired, of course." <<include "sheryhotchocolate">>

She looks down at the ground and mumbles, shame-faced, "…Yes." Then, defeated, she says, "I'll be going to bed now. Good night!" And with that, she shuffles away, clutching her diary to her chest as she vanishes down the hall with a flap of her slippers. … <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>You decide to get some rest...</span></div></div>' "next7weeks">><</link>></center>

Shery's face falls, and for a moment, she doesn't say anything. After several moments of staring blankly at each other, she drops her gaze and says softly, "…Oh. I see." She shakes her head, then smiles a little ruefully: a surprising expression, given that you half-expected her to burst into tears. She shifts from foot to foot, but her voice remains steady when she continues, "Well, I appreciate you being honest about it. I don't think I could have, in the same situation." She shakes her head again. "I'm sure it was a mistake. Um. Perhaps we could just… pretend this never happened?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"If that\'s what you want."' 'if7thats'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I really am sorry..."' 'i7really'>><<setshery +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I feel like we should talk about it."' 'i7feel'>><<fair_plus "$shery" -10>><<set $sheryharden += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You don\'t even want to know what part I read?"' 'you7dont'>><<fair_plus "$shery" -15>><<set $sheryromanceflag -= 5>><</link>></li> </ul>

She nods tightly, staring down at her feet as they shuffle together self-consciously. Then, after a moment or two of awkward silence, she looks up suddenly and blurts, "Would you… would you want some hot chocolate, by any chance? I have a tin in my room, and my nerves are already—well, you know. I won't be going to sleep anytime soon… so perhaps we could talk. If you're not too tired?" <<include "sheryhotchocolate">>

She silences you with a tight, forced smile and a quick shake of her head. "It's all right, <<c firstname>>," she says quietly, her eyes downcast. "Truly. I'm not angry. I'd just like it if we didn't speak of it again." Then she looks up at you, and though her smile is still tremulous, her gaze is bright and steady. "Would you… would you want some hot chocolate, by any chance? I have a tin in my room, and my nerves are already—well, you know. I won't be going to sleep anytime soon… so perhaps we could talk. If you're not too tired?" <<include "sheryhotchocolate">>

Shery's face drops further, and she can't even bring herself to look at you. "Please, <<c firstname>>," she whispers. "Not now. I'd like it if you could respect my wishes on this matter." You're not quite sure what to say, and she doesn't give you much of a chance to formulate a response before she turns on her slippered heel and begins to scurry away. "Good night!" She vanishes down the hallway without another word, turning the corner and fleeing before you can even get a word in edgewise. … Well, you can expect her to pretend as if absolutely nothing happened the next time you see her. You suppose you'll have to abide by her wishes and do the same. It's the least you could do. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>You decide to get some rest...</span></div></div>' "next7weeks">><</link>></center>

"I know which part you read, <<c firstname>>," Shery interrupts. Her voice is still soft, but there's a sudden steel behind it that surprises you. Then, in the next instant, she bites her lip and it's gone again. "Um… this is very embarrassing for me, so I'm just going to say good night and never, ever acknowledge that this happened. Please do the same. Thank you!" She turns on her heel and scurries off like the hounds of Hael are after her, vanishing down the hall before you can get in another word. … Well, you can expect her to pretend as if absolutely nothing happened the next time you see her. You suppose you'll have to abide by her wishes and do the same. It's the least you could do. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>You decide to get some rest...</span></div></div>' "next7weeks">><</link>></center>

She believes you instantly: you can see how her apprehension melts away instantly into relief, and she practically beams. "Oh, I know," she says in a happy rush. "I… I trust you, <<c firstname>>, implicitly, and I really appreciate your integrity…" She shakes her head. "I shouldn't have been so worried. You're very upstanding, and you're always so good to your friends. Thank you for respecting my privacy." You nod graciously. "Of course." Now she's practically bubbling over with pleasure. Her blue eyes are bright and steady. "Would… would you want some hot chocolate, by any chance? I have a tin in my room, and since we're both already up…" She smiles at you timidly. "I just thought it would be nice to talk… Unless you're tired, of course." <<include "sheryhotchocolate">>

Shery's face turns bright red. "I'm not keeping anything <i>dirty</i> in here!" she squeaks, looking positively horrified. "N-no—it's just ordinary things, everyday thoughts…" You laugh at her mortified expression. "I'm only teasing you, Shery," you say gently. "Though no judgment if you're actually writing smut, or anything like that…" "<<c firstname>>!" Even the roots of her hair have turned red. "You're worse than Chase!" she squeaks, using the journal to hide her face from you. You back off with a smile. "Fine, I won't be cruel." She relaxes. "Thank you." You stare at each other for another beat before she suddenly blurts, "Um… would you actually want some hot chocolate, by any chance? I have a tin in my room, and since we're both already up…" She smiles at you timidly. "I just thought it would be nice to talk… Unless you're tired, of course." <<include "sheryhotchocolate">>

Her face lights up, and she looks delighted. "Oh, wonderful! I mean, I'm sorry that you couldn't sleep, but I would love to talk more. I know you already debriefed with the Commander, but I'd love to hear all about what the nobles you met were like, and maybe what you ate or what you wore…" She runs to fetch her tin of hot chocolate and some mugs, and then you both settle in for a nice, cozy evening of chatting and relaxing together; she's greatly amused by your retelling of the dramatics in Lockwood. The night slips by at a comforting pace, and gradually, the anxieties that were keeping you awake being to ease away. By the time Shery bids you good night, happy and yawning, you've almost forgotten all about them. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "next7weeks">><</link>></center>

Gamely, Shery keeps an understanding smile on her face. "Of course. You've had a long journey, and you already spent a long time debriefing the others… I shouldn't have even asked." She turns on her heel and nods at you politely. "Good night, <<c firstname>>." She leaves, and you return to your bed, watching the shadows slide across the wall, tailing the lone and solitary moon. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "next7weeks">><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<if $sheryharden gte 3>> You hadn't realized it was possible for Shery to turn redder—it looks like her face might overheat and melt right off—but miraculously, she suddenly relaxes and takes a deep, steadying breath. You squeeze her hands reassuringly, and she takes another one, then gifts you a tremulous smile. <br><br> "Thank you," she whispers. "I get so flustered, sometimes. But you're right: I don't need to be so… frantic around you. You have that effect on a lot of people, I think, but me especially." <br><br> She smiles quickly at you, then goes quiet again. "Um… <i>did</i> you read it, though?" <br><br> A few months ago, she wouldn't have been brave enough to press you with the question a second time; you know that much. <<include "sherysdiary">> <<else>> You hadn't realized it was possible for Shery to turn redder—it looks like her face might overheat and melt right off. What makes it worse is that your attempt to grab her hands is stymied, awkward: she shies away automatically, and you're hampered by the fact that she's already clutching the book to her chest. In the end, she gets even more nervous, and you're left standing at each other in painful silence before you decide to change the subject. <<include "sherysdiary">> <</if>><</nobr>>

You roll out of bed to answer it, but are surprised to find that no one is standing in the hallway: there's only a lone piece of paper lying on the floor, folded neatly in half. You unfold the note and read its large, messy scrawl: <<set $loadPassage to Story.get("chaseshwnote").text;>> <<letter_holder "note" $loadPassage>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "soft7knocki">><</link>></center>

<<nobr>> <span class="chaseswriting"><<print $firstname.toUpperCase()>>! PRAC T ICE D LETTRS. DID HW. EXPECT $… (r e wa r d)</span> <br><br> <center><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/room/chasecat.png"></center> <</nobr>>

You look around again. "…Chase?" <<nobr>><<if $chasesex is true and $chaseromanceflag gte 25>> You feel a presence appear behind you. "Yes?" <br><br> You turn around quickly, and there he is, hands in his pockets, grinning and gangling and insouciant. You smile at him. "You've been doing your homework." You don't even bother asking how he suddenly materialized in your room; you're just focused on the glow of pride in your chest. When you left, he could barely string one word together. <br><br> Chase saunters up to you, his fingers walking a line across your shoulder. "Uh-huh." <br><br> "I didn't expect you to be such a diligent student." <br><br> "How could I not be, with such an attractive teacher?" He winks at you. "And besides, I've always been a quick learner. Got to figure out how to write you love letters, after all." <br><br> "Ah, so we're operating within the parameters of <i>love</i> now?" But your next words are cut off, because suddenly he's kissing you, hungrily, ferociously, all the tension in his lean body betraying his casual manner—and he kicks the door shut behind you, a bit too savagely to be nonchalant. <br><br> You wile the hours away in a much more pleasant manner than worrying about the next Autarch. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "next7weeks">><</link>></center> <<else>> But there's no reply: it seems he just wanted to drop off his 'homework' and dash off into the night, to do whatever it is he gets up to in the nocturnal hours. But you can't help but smile, feeling the glow of pride in your chest. When you left, he could barely string two words together. He's been taking your reading and writing lessons seriously. <br><br> You chuckle as you stare down at the note. You're going to have to hang this up in your room. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "next7weeks">><</link>></center> <</if>><</nobr>>

You roll out of bed to answer it, and you're surprised to find Caine standing there, tousle-headed and sleepy-eyed. He looks a bit self-conscious—a rare expression for him—as he hesitates in your doorway. He looks smaller, somehow, at night. "Um," he says. "Hi." You check the time: it's well past midnight. "You should be in bed by now, Caine." He scowls that twelve-year-old boy's scowl. "I was," he mutters rebelliously. "Only, I couldn't sleep. My brain was rattling around in my head like a bee in a bucket." He looks down at his bare toes, which shuffle against each other self-consciously on the cold stone floor. "Um… I was thinking… maybe if I couldn't sleep, and you couldn't sleep, we could just maybe… stay up together?" You pause for a moment, looking at him, but other than nervous and awkward, he doesn't give you much to go on. Still, it's not hard to figure out. A very momentous thing has happened, and his understanding of the world—of his very reality—has just been thrust into question. He's confused and upset. So what are you going to do about it? <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Why don\'t I make some hot chocolate, and we can play some games until we get tired?"' 'why7dont'>><<setcharisma +3>><<setcompassionate +5>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Let\'s talk."' 'lets7talk'>><<setintelligence +3>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Not tonight, Caine." You\'ve had a long journey, and you\'re tired.' 'not7tonight'>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setloyal -8>><</link>></li> </ul>

Caine's face brightens. "That sounds great!" Soon enough, you've settled in with two mugs of warm chocolate, wrapping blankets around yourselves as you play <<nobr>><<if $album is true>> rounds of <i>Rangers of Blest</i>, laughing and chatting all the while. <<else>> games of dreadnoughts or Frustration. <</if>><</nobr>> It does a lot to ease the tension in your heart, and you can tell it helps Caine immensely: he seems to forget all about what was troubling him earlier. Eventually, he falls asleep on your window seat, and you cover him with a blanket and go to bed. A swift and easy sleep overtakes you, too, dampening and darkening your thoughts to silence at last. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "next7weeks">><</link>></center>

Caine makes a face. "'Bout what?" "About what's bothering you." You open the door wider and let him in: he wanders over to the window seat overlooking the dark grounds below while you take a seat in the nearby armchair. "What's on your mind, Caine?" For a moment, you think he might not say anything: the boy only stares out into the night, down at the rest of the compound as if he expects something to spring out of the battlements or emerge from the silent walls. Finally he says, "Are we going to be okay?" You frown. "What do you mean?" He waves his hand in a vague, all-encompassing gesture. "I mean, like… with everything. Are we going to be… safe?" "Because the Autarch is dead?" He flinches as if you'd hurled a curse at him. "…Yeah," he says after a moment. "I just. Well. I didn't even really think she <i>could</i> die, you know? They always said in church that she was an extension of the One-God, and she was… I dunno, really powerful and all-knowing, and all. They even said that in the school I went to in Lindell. But all of a sudden, she's dead. And Ebert always said that her power was the only thing that was really holding the demons back. And the sicker she got, that's why more of 'em came through, and that's why she made the Shepherds, 'cause she couldn't do it by herself anymore <i>and</i> get better. But now she's <i>gone</i>. So what's going to happen with the demons? Are they going to come through all at once, now? What'll happen to Haven? Is everything going to be okay? There's all these people… Master Zateni, Hal. Nothing's going to <i>change</i>, is it? Or…" He tries to suck in a breath, but he's clearly working himself up into an anxious state without really knowing how to articulate everything that's going on in his head. <i>Poor kid,</i> you think with a sudden pang. He's too young to be worrying about things like this. <ul class="choices"> <<if $compassionate gte 70>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Put your arm around his shoulders. "We\'re safe, Caine. We\'re all safe and fine, and everything is going to be okay. I promise."</div>' 'were7nsafe'>><<setcompassionate +8>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Put your arm around his shoulders. "We\'re safe, Caine. We\'re all safe and fine, and everything is going to be okay. I promise."</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link '"I understand why you\'d feel concerned. Nothing like this has happened to you, or really anyone. But even if things look uncertain and scary for a while, ultimately, we just have to have faith that we\'ll figure it out. Together."' 'i7understand'>><<setcompassionate +5>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"We just don\'t know what\'s going to happen. I want you to be prepared for the worst. Can you do that for me?"' 'we7just'>><<setcunning +3>><<setintelligence +3>><<setcompassionate -5>><</link>></li> </ul>

He peers up at you with hope and complete trust in his eyes. "You really promise?" You give his shoulders a squeeze. "Yes. I promise that, no matter what happens, everything is going to be fine." "And we'll all stay together? And everyone'll be safe?" You ruffle his hair. "Who are you talking to?" He starts to grin. "The Hero of Haven." "And does the Hero of Haven ever break $her promises?" Caine shakes his head. "Nope." "So you don't need to worry about it. Okay? Let me worry. You just go on with things as you always do." He relaxes under your arm. "Okay," Caine says, with such complete, unquestioning faith in you that it makes your heart throb painfully. His expression immediately appears lighter. "Thanks, <<c firstname>>." Then he peers around at your room, as if realizing that he's in it for the first time. "So, do you keep any cool weapons in here?" <<include "in7the">>

His expression clears a little, though he still looks a bit worried. "Okay," he says, taking a breath. "I know we got the strongest, smartest people on our side. There's you, and the Commander, and Riel and Briony and Trouble and Shery…" He smiles at you, nods to himself. "We can handle it even if things get bumpy." You ruffle his hair. "Exactly." Caine nods again. "Thanks, <<c firstname>>." Then he peers around at your room, as if realizing that he's in it for the first time. "So, do you keep any cool weapons in here?" <<include "in7the">>

Caine's face goes a little pale, and he looks around at you with wide, startled eyes. Then, slowly, he nods after a moment. "Yeah," he says softly, tightening his fist into a ball. "I can do that." You nod. "Good." He needs to be prepared for whatever life's going to throw at him. Throw at you. If you fill his head with sweet fantasies, he's going to be caught off-guard… or even worse. After a minute or so of uneasy silence, Caine blinks and stirs, looking around at your room as if realizing he's in it for the first time. "Got any cool weapons in here, or anything?" he asks, his tone deceptively light. You can tell he's trying to act normal for your sake, though. <<include "in7the">>

In the end, <<nobr>><<if $intelligence gt $charisma>> you end up passing him a book that you think he'd be interested in. He passes out on the window seat almost immediately, and you cover him with a blanket and fall asleep to the sounds of his gentle snores. <<else>> you end up talking late into the night, trading stories and telling him about all the wonders you've seen on your travels. It eases the tension you both are feeling, and after he passes out on the window seat and you cover him with a blanket, an easy sleep overtakes and darkens your thoughts to silence, too. <</if>><</nobr>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "next7weeks">><</link>></center>

You don't miss how his face falls, but he nods unhappily. "'Kay. Good night." He shuffles off again, and you close the door and return to bed, tossing and turning until an uneasy sleep steals over you and finally quiets your thoughts. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "next7weeks">><</link>></center>

The next weeks are fraught with a strained and electric tension. At first, you try and rest, sticking close to the compound and taking some hard-earned time to relax—but then you find that the quiet and space to wonder gnaws at you more than actual work does. You pick up a few missions here and there, all based in Haven, and you see the somber mourning colors in the streets and the anxious, furtive whispers trading between neighbors like money. Many shops remain shuttered and closed, and the entire city goes still and airless—almost as if it had died alongside the Autarch. You train and exercise, you watch as others acclimate themselves to life with the Shepherds, you go on patrol. A pair of birds build a nest inside an old cannon on the battlements, and bets go around on how many eggs will be laid. Crime rates plummet in Ashtown: it seems all but the boldest or dumbest knaves know enough to lie low and avoid drawing attention to themselves during such a precarious time. You avoid hood-eyed Inquisitors and jumpy Vice Guards. Only once do you see a drunken man being dragged out of a bar for joyfully toasting the Autarch's death: someone mutters that he'd been wanting to end his life for years but never plucked up the courage until now. Time ekes on in strange, disjointed fits and starts. Officially, Blade orders a moratorium on speculating about the new Autarch, since all it seems to accomplish is driving everyone up the wall with anxiety and rumors; but unofficially, talks still happen late at night amongst your inner circle—and probably the rest of the Order, to boot. One night finds you sitting in a lounge with some of your companions and a few other high-ranking officers and trusted recruits, half-heartedly watching a card game of Intrigue unfold. Games are still technically forbidden during this period of state mourning, but the Shepherds' Order is as private and protected as it gets, and—as Riel reasons—people need some way to blow off steam. The topic of this subdued evening is, of course, the Autarch's sons, both of whom haven't been heard from since the announcement of her death. "What do we know about the older one, Enik?" someone asks in a hushed voice. <<nobr>><<if $rank is "Captain" and $trainingtime gte 1>> It's your own recruit, Cybele, shifting in her seat and looking anxious. <<elseif $gladiatorjoin is true>> It's Mountain Jackal, picking his teeth with a long, sharp needle and looking sullen. <<else>> It's one of the Elven officers, Tithus, who looks worried. <</if>><</nobr>> "Other than that he made the Chrysalis?" Some people look mystified, while others look uncomfortable. A few turn to Lavinet, who has been reading a book by the fire with a glass of wine. From what you know, her arrival to the Shepherds has been… interesting. She was immediately welcomed by your upper echelon of companions, and you hear she's making some fast friends among them. But among the common rank and file, responses to her have been mixed. Some revere and respect her for leaving a position of luxury and wealth to risk her life fighting demons and improving the lives of the downtrodden. Others—particularly those who have had hard or impoverished lives, or who particularly value the soldierly, salt-of-the-earth atmosphere of the Shepherds—seem skeptical or even outright resentful of her, and generally act as if she doesn't belong, though most would never say so openly. Still, Lavinet has been bearing it all up with admirable aplomb, never once complaining about the stark contrast in her circumstances or the hard training she's been undertaking. She passed her combat tests with flying colors, showed an aptitude for leadership and administration that is undoubtedly bolstered by her aristocratic upbringing, and seems to be on the fast track to making Captain sometime in the coming months. But she still doesn't completely fit in: not yet. Which is why she seems surprised when multiple eyes turn to her. She looks up from her novel and arches her brows. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "next7weeksi">><</link>></center>

"You're a noble, Lady Lavinet," presses one recruit with mint-green hair. Although people are supposed to forgo her aristocratic title and simply address her by Shepherd rank, a few forget. Old habits die hard. "Surely you've met the Autarch's sons?" "I come from the North," she demurs. "I never made my debut at the Sun Court: it's a much vaster playing field than the Winter Court, and you need connections grander than my own. I glimpsed Lord Enik Goldenson when I was younger, a teenager… but of him or his affairs, I know about as much as you." The green-haired recruit seems skeptical. "Isn't knowing about what's going on with the Autarch's family your bread and butter?" she asks. "You'd have to know some things the public didn't. Your whole lives revolve around making plays for their favor." To her credit, Lavinet doesn't bat an eye at this level of interrogation. "That's not entirely true," she says simply. "As for the Shining Sons, what I do know doesn't seem very helpful. Lord Enik was once the Margrave of Linae, sometimes known as Supericanum, before forsaking that title and his lands in favor of his work as Grand Inquisitor. He is so devout to the One-God that he has sworn a vow of celibacy, though whether this will affect his duty to produce an heir upon being selected as Autarch remains to be seen. Shall I go on?" She looks around with a raised brow, and when no one interjects, she continues: "He cannot bear to hear blasphemy spoken in his presence and has ordered executions on sight, depending on his moods. He observes a strict, austere diet, refuses alcohol, and has been observed to dislike sweets. He ignores fashion trends, even the ones that seek to imitate him. He even thinks some types of art are sinful, if it seems the artists seek to emulate or surpass the ultimate and sublime beauty of the One-God, or stir some other irreligious passion in the viewer. Nobles he visits will order all but the most drab paintings covered up before he arrives to their estates—though he often drops by unannounced." She shakes her hair back as she continues, "His network of spies spans the Continent. He has few advisors, though his High Inquisitor, his enforcer and second-in-command, has watched over him since he was young. He enjoys horseback riding. We know he does not strike his servants, but he does not need to: they fear him too much to risk his displeasure." She pauses and levels an unimpressed look at the meddling recruit. "Does that satisfy your curiosity?" The woman looks away. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "next7weeksii">><</link>></center>

"But what about the other one, Ornos?" <<nobr>><<if $rank is "Captain" and $trainingtime gte 1>> Cybele asks then. <<elseif $gladiatorjoin is true>> Mountain Jackal asks then. <<else>> Tithus asks then. <</if>><</nobr>> "I've heard that he's—unpredictable, that you can find him drinking with the troops at sunset and then whipping their backs to ribbons by dawn the next day. But why do they call him the Butcher of Bellenau?" Riel, who has been in playing a game of Hare and Hounds in an almost insultingly-bored manner with Ayla, stirs just as she makes a sound like she's about four seconds away from throttling him. "Whatever happened at Bellenau is considered rumor," he murmurs, not even bothering to keep an eye on the board as Ayla shifts one of her pieces. He moves one of his without looking down, and she quietly curses his mother. "Nothing was ever officially recorded nor verified, in a historian's sense." "But what is the rumor?" you ask him, watching as he disdainfully flicks down one of Ayla's hares. For a moment, Riel doesn't say anything, and you think he might enjoy how everyone in the room leans forward, only the crackling of the hearth audible in the sudden quiet of the room. Then he continues in his usual drawling tone: "It is <i>rumored</i> that when Ornos Silverson was sixteen, he was placed in charge of his own military unit. It was believed that he needed an outlet for his—impulses, the destructive energies he has become famed for. His brother had already found his own strength with the Inquisitors and his religious zeal. The military seemed appropriate for Ornos, who was given to acts of aggression and sudden fits of wrath. Perhaps there was also the thought that military service would instill the necessary discipline in him, though of course, I only report the thoughts of others… I make no statements about the man myself." He smiles slightly, as if amused by his own legal disclaimer. Then the smile vanishes, and he moves one of his hounds to corner Ayla's. She attacks him triumphantly, seemingly heedless to the flow of the conversation. "At some point, his unit was deployed to a valley called Bellenau, where it was thought that rebel forces might be hiding amongst the commonfolk. But rather than taking the time to determine if that was the case, or separate the civilians from the possible rebels… Ornos simply ordered the entire town burned overnight. It was wholesale slaughter. Several hundred people dead in a matter of hours. Women, children, farmers—everybody. And he had their bodies placed on pikes, as a kind of deterrent for any other rebels that might have been in the area. It's said that he crafted truly gruesome displays with their impaled corpses, almost like an artist posing models, taking his time and working with loving detail. I'll spare you the gory specifics, but needless to say, that day was bathed in blood." "The soldiers who were there say that he laughed as he made them," Ayla says then, uncharacteristically grim. She doesn't take her eyes off of the Hare and Hounds board. "I always thought that was—you know, rumor, just a scary story to tell." "It is hard to say," Riel acknowledges. "The Autarchy is exceptional at hiding or distorting information when it wants to. And on one hand, it is actually nothing completely extreme when you consider the scope of what the Autarchy has done in order to keep their hold on the Continent at large; a few hundred lives overnight doesn't even match what was done during the Castigation, nor some of the depravity that has occurred since. Perhaps they were not overly perturbed by his behavior. Or perhaps these rumors are simply the result of politically-motivated exaggeration." Then he laughs a little, bitterly. "But as for us… it does not bode well for his leadership. If we thought the previous Autarch was difficult, I do not want to consider what it will be like to have her sadist son on the throne." "Either of them," Ayla says, and knocks his last hound over. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "next7weeksiii">><</link>></center>

Others throughout the month speculate endlessly on the trouble between the sons and the line of succession after the Autarch. There seems to be some contention delaying the Sun Court and the necessity of making a quick public decision: Enik, the firstborn heir, seems the obvious choice, but it's also widely-known that the Autarch openly favored her second son, the 'miracle child' whom she either adopted or conceived with a secret father late in life. If she ever took on a lover after the assassination of her late husband, the Holy Consort and Tetrarch Sulepsis Amxis III, though, that information was kept so secret that not even veteran Sun Courtiers would know it. Still, there must have been some reason she loved Ornos so tenderly—even despite his apparent fits of rage. "Who do you want to be Autarch?" a recruit asks you at breakfast. He's a wide-eyed farm boy from the Southern Crescent, far too excited for this political drama and hopped up on khav. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"<<c god>>, I don\'t know. It\'s too early to be thinking about this."' 'god7nidont'>><<setcourage +1>><<setloyal -5>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'m sick of talking about this. Don\'t ask me again."' 'im7sick'>><<setcharisma -3>><<setcompassionate -5>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Enik would be better than Ornos."' 'enik7would'>><<setorder +1>><<setloyal +5>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Ornos would be better than Enik."' 'ornos7would'>><<setorder -1>><<setloyal -5>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'m praying there\'s a third contender that we don\'t know about, and that\'s what\'s causing the delay."' 'im7praying'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"None of them. They\'re all rotten to the core."' 'none7of'>><<setcourage +3>><<setcharisma -3>><<setcunning -3>><<fair_plus "$loyal" -10>><</link>></li> </ul>

The farm boy looks bashful. "Right, sorry." And he learns not to ask you about it again. <<include "the7month">>

The farm boy's eyes go wide. "Right, sorry," he mumbles after a moment. And he learns not to ask you about it again. <<include "the7month">>

The farm boy cocks his head. "Why do you think so?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Enik at least stands for some kind of order; and he\'s predictable, besides. Ornos is a wild card, completely unstable."' 'enik7at'>><<setintelligence +3>><<setorder +5>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'d rather a torturer with some kind of code and a religion you can manipulate to stay ahead of him, rather than a butcher with apparently no morals and a thirst for violence."' 'no7one'>><<setcunning +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I don\'t trust anyone the Autarch favored. If she wanted Ornos, I want the opposite."' 'idont7trust'>><<fair_plus "$loyal" -10>><</link>></li> </ul>

Religious zealotry is nothing new in terms of the long line of Autarchs who have come before your time. You'd rather a known variable than a completely unpredictable and volatile ruler. <<include "no7one">>

The farm boy's brow furrows. "But she favored the Commander; chose him for this Order. Surely that means her judgment had some legitimacy?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"That\'s different."' 'no7one'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"We\'ll see."' 'no7one'>><<setloyal -5>><<setblade -5>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 5>><<set $bladeromanceflag -= 5>><</if>><</link>></li> <<if $compassionate lt 40>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I think that\'s proof that her judgment was flawed."</div>' 'no7one'>><<fair_plus "$loyal" -10>><<fair_plus "$blade" -15>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 10>><<set $bladeromanceflag -= 10>><</if>><<setreputation -3>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">"I think that\'s proof that her judgment was flawed."</div>'>><</link>><</if>> </ul>

No one seems to know quite what to say to that. <<include "the7month">>

The farm boy's brow furrows. "Why do you think that?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Even a violent sinner is better than a religious zealot. At least he\'s honest about his perversions."' 'noone7seems'>><<setcunning +3>><<setfaith -3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"If Ornos takes the throne, it might create chaos. and infighting. That will weaken the Autarchy\'s rule even further."' 'if7ornos'>><<setorder -5>><<fair_plus "$loyal" -10>><<fair_plus "$courage" +10>><<fair_plus "$cunning" -10>><<setreputation -3>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'The Autarch must have favored him for a reason. If she liked him over Enik, what does that say about how bad Enik really is?"' 'noone7seems'>><<setcunning +3>><</link>></li> </ul>

The farm boy swallows nervously. "And that's… a good thing?" he asks, rubbing his sweaty palms on his pant legs. "We work for them, after all." You just level him with a look. He knows what you're talking about, even if you don't have to say it in so many words. <<include "noone7seems">>

No one seems to know what to say about that. <<include "the7month">>

That's been a rumor, too: that the delay has been caused not simply because no one can decide between Enik or Ornos, but that the Autarch either named a third candidate or no one at all, leaving room for an alternate to spring up in the Consortium's favor. There have been various bits of gossip alluding to powerful politicians, ingratiated heirs, and obscure nieces and nephews, but nothing substantial as of yet. Still, it's enough to give someone hope that there are more factors at play than simply two terrible choices. Riel says that it's happened before. The farm boy bites his lip. "How likely is a third candidate, though?" You shrug. "I didn't say that it was likely, only that it was preferable." No one seems to know quite what to say to that. <<include "the7month">>

A sudden hush falls over your table, and one or two recruits even stand nervously and leave. In the shocked silence, you look around at their stricken faces, and you know it's what everybody has been thinking. Why would they all be so anxious about the decision, otherwise? But is that enough to risk speaking so bluntly? It's safe within the Shepherd walls, you know that. But how long that will remain true—that, you're not so sure of. <<include "the7month">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "the7monthi">><</link>></center>

The month creeps by at a snail's pace. Eventually, you get a smattering of days off. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "dayoff">><<if settings.music is true>><<audio ":playing" fadeout>><</if>><</link>></center>

It's about a week before the end of the official mourning period when something happens. You're in one of the courtyards,<<nobr>><<if $intelligence gt $strength>> reading, <<else>> training, <</if>><</nobr>> when suddenly you hear a cry from the surrounding battlements. One of the guards in the Autumn Tower has spotted something, and shouted down to his comrades patrolling along the walls. For a moment, your heart kicks up a clumsy tattoo in your chest: it's not a habit of the guards to start shouting, not unless there's some kind of emergency or threat—but they don't sound alarmed, just excitable. All around the compound, people are looking up and taking notice of the commotion: you see heads turning, the everyday busyness of the Order slowing as others turn to each other and ask what's going on. <<nobr>><<if ($blade gt $trouble and $blade gt $red) and $bladehate is false>> You catch Blade just as he's striding past you, heading for the walls, his gaze so intent and narrowed that he didn't even seem to realize that you were there. His dark eyes snap up to you, maybe even warm slightly—but he doesn't slow in his stride. <br><br> "<<c firstname>>," is all he says—and then he jerks his chin, motioning wordlessly for you to follow him, and it's somehow an intimate gesture of trust despite its brusqueness. <<elseif ($trouble gt $blade and $trouble gt $red) and $troublehate is false>> You catch Trouble just as he half-jogs past you, barking orders at various officers who veer off from him and scurry away like smaller pieces breaking off a comet. He smiles slightly when he sees you, as he almost always does, but his eyes look tight and worried. "Hey," he says softly, clapping you on the shoulder. "They've seen something, up on the walls. Come and have a look." <<else>> You catch Red just as he hustles past you, talking in low, animated voices to Neon and a few of his other Mages, now long since grown into their own officer uniforms. Red tries to smile when he sees you, nodding in a reassuring, friendly way, but his eyes look concerned. "We're going up to the walls," he calls, beckoning you to join them. "Seems like something's happening, and I want to see what." <</if>><</nobr>> You hurry up to the ramparts, and at first, it's not completely obvious what all the fuss is about. You don't see any Endarkened or attackers; there are people milling in the streets below, as always, going about their lives like ants trundling along with cut bits of leaves. But then someone points, and you look up, and it's just a tiny dot far above you, a mere speck of color almost floating above the city—but a flag has been raised to the top of the Sun Court, the Autarch's palace, replacing the black marker of death that has been hung there over the past month. Something catches in your throat. <<nobr>><<if $cainejoin is true>> Caine has run up, too, to see what all the commotion is about. He bounces on the balls of his heels and shields his eyes against the sun. "What is it?" he hisses, tugging on your sleeve. "I can't make it out—what's the flag?" <<else>> Shery has run up, too, shielding her eyes and squinting helplessly against the glare of the sun; even with her glasses, she's woefully short-sighted. "What is it?" she asks you anxiously, turning to you. "I can't quite make it out—do you see the details of the flag?" <</if>><</nobr>> It's hard to make out the details in the shifting light, especially when your vision jolts with your thumping heart. On your other side, Trouble lets out a puff of breath, then sags so that his hands are on his knees, his head down so you can't see his expression. He has that perfect vision that makes him such an excellent sniper. "It's white," he says, his head between his legs. You can't tell if he's relieved or sick to his stomach. "White and gold, with a hand with an eye at its center." A collective gasp goes up around you. Blade, whose face is partially in shadow, remains unreadable. "It's Enik, then," he concludes, turning away. Ornos's colors are red and black, with a hand forming a closed fist and gripping the sun. "The firstborn. Enik Goldenson is going to ascend as Autarch." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "dayoff7overii">><</link>></center>

The city erupts into chaos. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "dayoff7overiii">><</link>></center>

At first, you're not sure what kind of chaos it is: you only know the strange, tense energy of the city breaks, like a length of taut rope snapping under a great strain, and noise and explosive activity fill the streets in a great wave once more. It's jarring, almost downright alarming, after a month of imposed silence and somberness and solitude—almost like the alien roar of some creature from some other world and not the sound of your Continent's capital rushing back to vigorous, thunderous life. Eventually the chaos becomes clear—the people are <i>celebrating.</i> Whether they are genuinely relieved that Enik has been chosen as heir or simply celebrating an end to the uncertainty, doubt, and fear, you're not sure. But the mourning is over, and not even the Inquisitors can stop it. Now, people just want to party. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "dayoff7overiv">><</link>></center>

It's more than a little bizarre, but you don't have time to dwell on it. You spend another week making sure things stay under control, keeping a watchful eye on the streets and putting down the few demons drawn to the noise of the city from the plains outside. But the energy of Haven builds and builds. As soon as the funerary period was over, people began wearing loud clothes, laughing too much, and taking any excuse to touch or embrace, as if they'd all been on long journeys and hadn't seen each other in a long time. They revel in the open air—and it doesn't help that the first touch of spring is coming, the heaviness and clouds of winter beginning to lighten as each day passes. It all makes for a thrumming, festive kind of atmosphere, and, oddly, Enik's soldiers and Inquisitors do nothing to deter it. Perhaps he's too busy, planning his impending coronation and his various court appointments—or perhaps, as future leader, he understands that the people need some kind of outlet for their emotions. It hardly surprises anyone at all when it's eventually declared that a huge public holiday will be held next month, prior to his official ascension to the throne: an enormous city-wide festival, possibly even Continent-wide, intended to both honor the late Autarch and celebrate the incoming one. For everyone else, it's simply a welcome excuse to dance, cavort, and sing. "Perhaps they're fitting it in while they still can," Riel remarks, as dry as ever as he watches the workers beginning their festival preparations in the street below. "The next Autarch's reign will be suitably chaste and dour. Perhaps this is a final hurrah to squeeze in before the new regime takes hold." "Bread and circuses," Red says. "That's a phrase from somewhere. Distract the people with free food and entertainment, and they'll never have the focus to come after you for the important things—the things they should actually be worrying about." <<nobr>><<if $blade gte 50>> <br><br> You glance at Blade; didn't he once say something similar, before the last Candle Day? But he catches your look and makes a subtle face: he does not want to be caught agreeing with anything Red says. <</if>><</nobr>> "God's eyes, you're a depressing lot," Chase says then, slouching down into an old, stuffed armchair with his hands in his pockets. He's smoking charch, a rare sight for him: he, Halek, and Trouble have been passing the same cigarette back and forth for several minutes. "Can't you take even one day off from worrying?" Red smiles a little. "I don't suppose we have a choice," he concedes ruefully just as Briony flings herself down and plucks the cigarette out of Chase's fingers, taking a drag and making a face. "Even the Shepherds will be expected to take part in the festivities—I just saw the roster for next month. We're going to have only patrols and a skeleton crew for the night of the festival, working in shifts so we can each partake in the fun. Orders from the new Autarch." Several others in the room light up, while Tallys makes a face and Ayla grunts. "Shit," she mutters, rubbing her face. "Never thought I'd be suspicious of a party." "Not since Lockwood, anyway," Tallys says tartly. Everyone spends some time speculating on what such an enormous celebration is going to look like, how the logistics of it will work. Some debate Enik's motives and intentions for sponsoring such an extravagant event. Others guess at what will happen after he takes the throne. Of his scorned brother Ornos, you notice, nothing much is said at all. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "dayoff7overv">><</link>></center>

<span class="splash">A Few Weeks Later</span><span class="splashblur"></span>Although the preparations are just beginning, it doesn't take long for the excitement of the impending Ascendancy Festival to pop like a punctured balloon. Trouble comes to find you, and the look on his face says it all. "Got a mission, <<c halfname>>." You put down your latest sheaf of mission reports and arch a brow at his expression. "Far?" <<nobr>><<if $trouble gte 75 or $troubleromanceflag gte 20>> Trouble looks unhappy, but he still slings a familiar arm around your waist and tips his head against yours as you walk. "Yeah." <<elseif $trouble gte 65>> Trouble looks unhappy, but he still slings a familiar arm around your shoulder as you walk. "Yeah." <<else>> He nods. "Yeah." <</if>><</nobr>> "Why the sour look?" you ask. He sighs, heavy and solid beside you. "Sounds like it's gonna be a rough one. I'll let Blade explain." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "dayoff7overvi">><</link>></center>

When you reach the briefing room, however, it's not Blade who's awaiting you, but Chase and Red. Both look up and smile at your entrance, but as you sit down, Red returns to the mission dossier that he's been reading through, and his brow furrows again in concern. "How many teams have been sent in?" Chase asks him, setting his legs up on the chair beside him. Red sighs and runs a hand through his vibrant hair. "Looks like three. Wymer Squad, Edall Squad, and Orrus Squad." Chase whistles softly. "Shit. All at the same time?" "Wymer Squad went in first, then the other two together when they didn't come back." You frown. You didn't personally know anybody on those squads, but their team names are familiar to you. Trouble curses quietly. "I know—knew—the captain of Wymer Squad, Kaidir. Good man." Blade sweeps into the room before you can ask what's going on, his face shuttered in that Ket way. He sits and flicks a narrow, frowning look at Red, who's still poring over the mission dossier. "Where were you?" Trouble asks him. Blade grunts eloquently. "Funeral arrangements." He looks again to Red, who finally notices his scrutiny and starts. "Sorry," he says, indicating the dossier. "Did you want to—?" "No," Blade says irritably. "Feel free to begin the mission brief, if you want." Red nods and turns back to the papers, and Blade looks as affronted by this violation of the chain in command as if Red had actively insulted his mother. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "dayoff7overvii">><</link>></center>

"Looks like we're headed to a place called Wallmire," Red begins, oblivious to Blade's glare. "It's a closed community, situated smack-dab in the middle of the Bleakmoor." The Bleakmoor Marshes encompass a vast tract of land to the North, past Capra and Caprona but below the Reach, dangerous and swampy territory populated with some of nature's worst pitfalls. Hardly anyone lives there, despite how large the marshland is—which speaks to how unusual a community like Wallmire already sounds. "We don't know much about the people who live there, except that they exclusively trade with each other, hunt with each other, and study together in the confines of their village. Generally, no outsiders are allowed in—but even if they were, the place would be obscenely difficult to get to. No horses, and even the ahfuri can barely tolerate it. Too much mud, water, bogs, and peat marshes. If you're not looking closely enough at the ground, you could fall right through what looks like solid turf and drown." You've heard of the Bleakmoor's dangers. Drowning's just the least of it—there are all manner of mutant creatures said to dwell there, not to mention mosquitoes, leeches, and even carnivorous plants. No wonder Trouble looked so dour when he came to fetch you. "And we're all heading there?" you ask, looking at the faces around the table. Blade, Trouble, Chase, Red, and you. Red checks the document. "Seems like it." It's an unusual squad formation, especially for such an unpleasant place: normally you think it would be foisted on unlucky recruits. To have the Commander, Vice-Commander, <<nobr>><<if $rank is "Captain">> and three high-ranking captains—one of them the so-called "Hero of Haven"—go instead? <<else>> the Hero of Haven, and two high-ranking captains go instead? <</if>><</nobr>> And you thought your last mission was full of the heavy-hitters. "Why? What are we going there for?" Now Blade cuts in, leaning forward and pointedly taking control of the conversation from Red. "That's the issue," he says, his voice low and fricative. "We don't exactly know." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "dayoff7overviii">><</link>></center>

"I'd love some elaboration on that," Chase says brightly. Blade huffs a little, tapping at the table with a finger. "We received a request for aid from the people of Wallmire some time ago," he says. "Given their isolated position and general reclusiveness, it was already difficult enough for them to get the message to us—that alone indicated the urgency of their situation. But they alluded to the fact that other messengers had already tried to reach us and failed. It seems as though they're trapped in the swamp: the one person who was able to make it out delivered their missive to a Relay Rider in Caprona, then seemed to return to the Bleakmoor—and none of them have been heard from since." A little chill grips your heart at that. "The nature of the threat is vague," Blade continues. "The missive didn't say much: only that the village of Wallmire is being visited daily by some kind of terror. Almost every night, it claims another soul in the village—methodical, patient, and deadly. Apparently impossible to dissuade. In a matter of months, it's taken and murdered over half of the population of Wallmire. And somehow, they're unable to flee. So they must stay trapped in their own village, waiting for nightfall to bring death to their doorsteps." "Are these deaths supernatural in cause?" you ask. "Or are we dealing with a killer of some sort?" "Unclear," Blade says. "It is hard to determine fact from superstition, especially over letter and from an unreliable source. The people of Wallmire seemed to believe the threat was demonic in nature, which was why they appealed to us. Given recent events, I'm inclined to believe them—but we should keep in mind the possibility that it could be a serial killer or even group of killers, mythologized into more by terrified locals." "Even if it <i>is</i> a serial killer," Red says, "they'd be among the deadliest murderers in Blest's history. Half a town's population, killed one-by-one pretty much every night? That takes… deranged levels of bloodthirst and dedication. Honestly, I'd feel better if it was an Endarkened." Blade grunts. "We sent a team in to investigate," he continues. "Wymer Squad, specialized trackers. They got as far as the last town outside of the Bleakmoor before their messages stopped. We never heard from them again." Your next intake of breath is a hiss. The Order separates its officers into two general divisions: the Solar Corps, who handle the everyday tasks that keep the Order running, such as mission control, patrols, guard duty, canvassing, and interrogation; and the Lunar Corps, the elite division that takes on specialized missions, heavy combat roles, and far more dangerous and delicate work. It's almost unheard of for a Lunar Corps squad like Wymer to go dark like that. What Blade says next is even worse. "After some attempts at reestablishing contact, two other squads were sent in after Wymer Squad, to provide backup or to investigate their fate," Blade says. "They, too, have not returned. Nor have they been heard from. For all intents and purposes, we must assume that they're dead." Silence at that, though Trouble beside you shudders in anger. You haven't heard of such a high death count among the Shepherds since—well, maybe ever. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Hold your head high. "I refuse to believe they\'re dead without evidence."' 'hold7your'>><<setred +1>><<setcompassionate +3>><<setcunning -3>><<if $red gte 65 or $redromanceflag gte 15>><<if $redromanceflag gte 20>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 20>><<set $bladeromanceflag -= 5>><</if>><<if $troubleromanceflag gte 20>><<set $troubleromanceflag -= 1>><</if>><</if>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Clench your fists. "Whatever happened to them, we will avenge them. We\'ll get the bastard."' 'clench7your'>><<settrouble +1>><<setchase +1>><<setblade +1>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 20>><<set $bladeromanceflag += 1>><</if>><<if $troubleromanceflag gte 20>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 1>><</if>><<if $chasesex is true>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>><</if>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setcourage +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Look down at the table. "How terrible." Your heart aches for your fallen comrades... and the loved ones they left behind.' 'look7down'>><<setcompassionate +5>><<setcharisma +1>><<settrouble +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Look around nervously. "Are we sure it\'s a great idea to just go charging in to such a situation? Three squads have already been lost. Who\'s to say we won\'t be one more?"' 'look7around'>><<setcourage -5>><<setcunning +3>><<settrouble -3>><<setblade -3>><<set $troubleromanceflag -= 5>><<set $bladeromanceflag -= 5>><</link>></li> </ul>

Blade inclines his head, though his mouth is flat and tight. "That is your right," he says coolly. "And I hope that is the case. But for the purposes of our mission, I must act under the belief that they are dead, and that we are heading into the same perils that took their lives." <<nobr>><<if $red gte 65 or $redromanceflag gte 15>> <br><br> Red smiles at you encouragingly. "But if they're still out there, we'll find them," he says softly. <<if $redromanceflag gte 20>> His hand reaches out to rub your elbow assuringly. <<if $bladeromanceflag gte 20>> Blade scowls and looks away. <</if>> <<if $troubleromanceflag gte 20>> Trouble coughs and shifts in his seat, picking at something on the table. <</if>> <<if $chaseromanceflag gte 20 or $chasesex is true>> You notice Chase watching the gesture with interest, but when you look towards him, his eyes flick away, a little ironic smile playing around his mouth. <</if>> <</if>> <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "dayoff7overix">>

Blade inclines his head. "We will," he says, and he says it as cold, flat, absolute fact. "But we won't let anger cloud our judgment. Whoever our enemy is, they're lethal and strong enough to take down three Lunar Corps squads. We won't make the mistake of underestimating them." <<include "dayoff7overix">>

<<nobr>><<if $troublehate is false and $trouble gte 65>> Trouble places a heavy hand on your shoulder. "If they are gone, we'll put their souls to rest," he says softly, his jaw clenched as he stares down at the table. "We'll get the fucker. It's the least we can do for them." <br><br> <</if>><</nobr>> Blade looks away. "It is a great loss," he says, clipped, a restrained anger heating his voice before he controls it again. <<include "dayoff7overix">>

Blade looks around at your table. "If we can't handle it," he says flatly, "then no one can, and I would be much more concerned for the fate of Wallmire, Haven, and the Continent at large if there's a threat out there that could end the five of us that easily." High praise, coming from him, but it doesn't exactly make you feel better. <<include "dayoff7overix">>

"So from what I'm hearing," Chase says, "this place Wallmire is getting annihilated. They're trapped with the thing, somehow, so they can't leave as it picks them off night after night. If we go in, the same thing will likely happen to us, and we could be trapped until we eliminate the threat. And we're working based on two theories: one, it's a demon, like the townsfolk say, and it's a violent one." "And likely a Cacophant-level one, at that," Red adds. "To evade capture for so long, take down three Shepherd squads, and slowly kill half the population of Wallmire, we have to assume it's at least as powerful as a Cacophant. That's more killing than most of the Faceless Lords combined." "Though, granted, those bastards tended to thrive in situations where they deliberately kept their victims alive to feed on," Trouble puts in. "So they maybe don't count exactly. <<nobr>><<if ($quiialdead is true and $buubasdead is true) and ($jarkythdead is true and $clochusdead is true) and ($blaphemeldead is true or $facelesslordsdead is 5)>> But <<c firstname>> got all the Faceless Lords, didn't $she? They're all gone, permanently?" <br><br> "Yes," you answer, firm. You know their eradication, the hole they left in the world, as well as you know your own heartbeat. <br><br> Blade nods. <<if $bladeromanceflag gte 25>> "Our anti-demon weapon is as efficient as $she <<if $plural is true>>are<<else>>is<</if>> powerful," he says, with something like a quick, fond look at you before he looks away. "No, it isn't a Faceless Lord. But that doesn't mean it can't be something close to one in power—especially if it's had time to grow from all of the death and violence it's caused." <<elseif $blade gte 70>> "Our anti-demon weapon is as efficient as $she <<if $plural is true>>are<<else>>is<</if>> powerful," he says dryly. "No, it isn't a Faceless Lord. But that doesn't mean it can't be something close to one in power—especially if it's had time to grow from all of the death and violence it's caused." <<else>> "It likely isn't a Faceless Lord," he acknowledges. "But that doesn't mean it can't be something close to one in power—especially if it's had time to grow from all of the death and violence it's caused." <</if>> <<else>> But wait, do we even know that it <i>isn't</i> a Faceless Lord? We haven't gotten them all, have we? Or can't some of them come back?" <br><br> "They can regenerate eventually," Red says, "but it takes a very long time—years, decades, or even centuries. And even longer to gather the strength to break through the worldwalls between here and Hael and manifest in Blest again. It wouldn't be one we or <<c firstname>> have faced before." <br><br> "But that doesn't mean it can't be a demon approaching the Faceless Lords in power," Blade says, "or one of the ones we haven't found yet. Anything is possible, and we need to be prepared for anything." <</if>><</nobr>> "And the other possibility," Chase continues, "is that it isn't a demon at all, but one of the deadliest serial killers in Blest's history. One cunning and powerful enough to eliminate three entire squads of decorated officers, as well as terrorize an entire town's population without getting caught. Am I getting that right?" "Sounds about the gist of it," Trouble mutters. "We just won't know until we get there." "So," Red says quietly, staring down at the dossier, "uncharted territory, unknown situation. Deadly threat that no one can seem to beat. That means it's time to send in the big guns." He glances around at the table; Blade and Trouble look serious, while Chase studies something on the ceiling while he spins around in his chair. "That would be us, it seems." <<nobr>><<if $possessed is false>> "Can't be worse than the nightmare demon in Capra," Chase remarks with a sly grin. <br><br> Red snorts. "True." <br><br> "Yeah, I've got to make up for lost time," Trouble comments with a slightly vicious smile. "You all got to deal with that together. That means I call dibs on this bastard, whatever it is." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Trust me, be glad you missed out on Quiial."' 'trust7me'>><</link>></li> <<if $troublehate is false>><li><<link '"Aw, we missed you, Trouble."' 'aw7we'>><<settrouble +3>><<if $troubleromanceflag gte 15>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 1>><</if>><<setcharisma +1>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link '"Sorry, <i>I</i> call dibs."' 'sorry7call'>><<settrouble +1>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Settle down. This isn\'t some kind of joke. People have died."' 'settle7down'>><<fair_plus "$chase" -10>><<fair_plus "$trouble" -10>><<setcharisma -5>><<setloyal +5>><<set $troubleromanceflag -= 5>><<set $chaseromanceflag -= 10>><</link>></li> </ul> <<else>> <<include "dayoff7overx">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Trouble sobers for a moment, watching you. "I guess I am," he admits with a careful kind of expression, unusual for him. <<include "is7that">>

He grins at you, rogueish. "Missed you too, <<c halfname>>," he says fondly. "Bet you could have used a sniper at the Reach. Or at the gladiator's arena. Or in Lockwood…" "You bitter that <<c firstname>>'s been traveling around, collecting new friends?" Chase teases. <<nobr>><<if $troubleromanceflag gte 20>> "Jealous, maybe?" <</if>><</nobr>> "Nah," Trouble says easily, winking at you, "everyone knows I was here first." <<nobr>> <<if $tallysequalist is true>> <br><br> "Well, technically, Tallys was, wasn't she?" <br><br> "Piss off." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "is7that">>

"That's not fair," Trouble says indignantly. "And it's not even how dibs works—I said it first. <i>And</i> I'm Vice-Commander. I outrank you." "Hero of Haven trumps Vice-Commander." "Like hell you do!" <<include "is7that">>

Trouble's face shutters instantly. "I ain't joking," he says, dead serious. "I'm going to put a bullet between this fucker's eyes." <<include "is7that">>

"Is that all we need to know for now, Commander?" Red cuts in then. <<include "dayoff7overx">>

Blade nods. "We move out in two days. Pack your gear accordingly: our journey after we hit the marshland will be on foot, and it will be treacherous and unpleasant going." <<nobr>><<if ($cunning gte 50 and $charisma gte 50) and ($intelligence gte 50 and $numberofhated is 0)>> <<setintelligence +1>> <<setcharisma +1>> <<setcunning +1>> Something still isn't adding up to you, though. You understand the nature of the threat, understand that only a team of your power level can address it; you even understand why a small, specialized squad has to be sent in, rather than the bulk of the Shepherds' armed forces. Reconnaissance and an understanding of the murky situation must be achieved first, after all. But something about the exact composition of this team makes you suspicious. <br><br> "Is there a specific reason why you're sending us?" you ask Blade. "I can't deny that all of us are skilled and accomplished enough to confidently handle something like this—but I get the feeling that there's more to the story, too." <br><br> "That is true," Chase pipes in. "I wondered that, myself. Blade going on this makes sense—so do you, <<c firstname>>, since you're basically our guaranteed ace in the hole. I get me, too: espionage and tracking are my things. But a dense, crowded, murky swamp isn't exactly the most ideal place for a sniper, say." <br><br> Trouble remains relaxed in his seat, unoffended by the sentiment. "You weren't complaining when I saved your arse in that antiques shop. Shot the bugger's head off, and I didn't even break anything." <br><br> "Yeah, except the window." <br><br> "That was the demon." <br><br> "Didn't say that to the owner when she did her best to clobber me senseless for it." <<else>> "Fine," Chase says, still staring up at the ceiling. "Can I ask something, though? I understand the nature of the threat; I get why basically no one else but us has a chance of handling it. I even get why a small team's got to go in and do recon, understand the situation, instead of just sending a big armed regiment in to raze the place to the ground. But why us <i>specifically</i>?" <br><br> He cocks his head towards you and Blade. "I get <<c firstname>>—you're basically our ace in the hole and best guarantee of success at this point, especially when it comes to… demon stuff. And I get you, Blade: you're optimized for this kind of thing. Hael, I even get me—tracking, espionage, and recon are my specialty. But a dense, murky, crowded swamp doesn't seem like the best place for a sniper. And I don't know what ol' Liefred's going to do except maybe read at the killer and bore it to death." <br><br> "Oh, thanks very much," Red says with an easy laugh. "I <i>can</i> fight, you know." <br><br> "No, I know. But you won't have a lot of room to swing your big thing around in a swamp, huh?" <br><br> "Could you please… not phrase it like that…" <br><br> "Your hammer of the gods? Your giant pounder?" <br><br> "…" <br><br> Trouble snickers. <</if>><</nobr>> Blade makes a soft, impatient tutting noise with his tongue. "Antiqua's teleportation abilities will be useful when it comes to testing exactly how people become trapped in the swamp," he says. "He will be our method of retreat or communication with the outside world, should we find ourselves in an untenable situation. And Trouble's long-range eyesight and sharpshooting abilities may come in handy. If this threat is as elusive as it seems, it might be that close-quarters combat is not an option: we may need someone positioned to take a shot at it from a distance, rather than relying on direct confrontation or approach." But then he lets out a long sigh through his nose. "You are correct, though, that there are other motives at play," he concedes. He looks around at you all, his dark eyes stern and exacting. "This knowledge stays in this room," the Ket says. "Only one other person knows it at the moment. But it's come to my attention that the new Autarch-to-be is planning an inspection of the Shepherds. Very soon." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Uh-oh."' 'dayoff7overxi'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Well, shit."' 'dayoff7overxi'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"No way. Really?"' 'dayoff7overxi'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"That... can\'t be a good thing, can it?"' 'dayoff7overxi'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Is that normal?"' 'dayoff7overxi'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"That makes sense."' 'it7would'>><<setloyal +3>><</link>></li> </ul>

It would be foolish of a new leader to not acquire an understanding of the agencies working directly under him, after all. <<include "dayoff7overxi">>

"I'm told it's standard procedure," Blade says curtly. "And, indeed, the Vice Guard, Inquisitors, and Army of the Sun are facing their own impending inspections: it's not targeted solely at us. But with the change in regime, no one knows exactly what it means. It could be Enik's excuse to clean house. It could simply be his way of appraising and understanding the situation in each agency. But I tend to err on the side of caution, so I will not be taking any risks." "And what does <i>that</i> mean?" Chase asks, laughing a little. Blade smiles, very slightly. It's an ironic, rueful kind of look. "Up until now," he says, "I have submitted my reports on our activities and officers exactly as the previous Autarch directed. However, she was never interested in the minutiae or the details—only the broad strokes of the work we were doing—so I always kept any information I gave to her ministers… brief. Streamlined. She afforded us a large amount of leeway and demanded very little… transparency. Perhaps she even did so on purpose, to ensure that we had the freedom to operate efficiently while she turned something of a blind eye." His mouth quirks again before he nods at the four of you. "But if the new Autarch is planning on scrutinizing our organization in person, I think it would be strategic to remove several key players who might draw negative attention or come under fire while within his line of sight. There are people we would prefer he not take special notice of, and who would likely stand out in an undesired way. For example, the fact that the criminal leader of Thieves Guild is our spymaster." He tips his head at Chase, who grins, catlike. "Even if Thieves Guild operates as little more than a shell operation and front at this point, and the thieves have all been incorporated as official officers—" "—with possibly, slightly false names on the Autarchy paperwork," Chase says slyly, "just in case any Inquisitors ever think to cross-reference Vice Guard criminal records with our recruit papers…" "It's not something we'd like the new regime to focus on," Blade finishes. "This also includes our Vice-Commander, an outspoken Norm sympathizer of the Diminished and popular folk hero in Ashtown, as well as a magically-enhanced cultist experiment…" "Hael, well, when you put it like that…" "…the Archmage of a <i>very</i> illegal magical Circle who joined the Shepherds in order to avoid attention and persecution by the Autarchy and its Inquisitors…" "You know what, that's fair." "…the Ket assassin who was made commander of a Diminished paramilitary force in an extremely unpopular move by the Autarch's late mother…" <<nobr>><<if $bladetime gte 3>> He glances at you wryly, and you know what he's saying: <i>After he tried to <b>kill</b> said mother, and Enik probably knows it…</i> <</if>><</nobr>> "Oh yeah, and haven't you killed like a shitload of Consortium politicians in the past?" "…and the famed Hero of Haven, <<nobr>><<if $shepherdsknow is true>> whose mysterious powers, immense battle prowess, and penchant for winning allies, widespread public support, and the hearts and imaginations of people across the Continent would certainly trip several alarms in the mind of any new leader." <<else>> whose penchant for winning allies, widespread public support, and the hearts and imaginations of people across the Continent would certainly trip several alarms in the mind of any new leader." <</if>><</nobr>> "Ah, got it," Chase says, sitting back in his chair. "So it's an optics thing. Remove the tomatoes that stand out when the grocer comes to do his rounds, otherwise they'll be thrown away. Keep the good ones in the front of the stand so all looks well in hand. Then when he's gone, put the ugly buggers back in with the rest." "Fine," Blade says curtly. "If that's how you want to put it." "I take issue with being compared to a tomato," Red says lightly. "But I take your point. It gives us a lot of plausible deniability, too, to be sent out on important missions just before the Autarch actually comes to call. 'Sorry, I know ten percent of our force is out at the moment, but that's just how it is when you're off constantly saving the world!' He can't exactly get angry about it, can he, or demand that we come back." "Yes," Blade says, without boasting. "The timing will work in our favor, should all go according to plan. And aside from my and Trouble's more conspicuous absences, he doesn't really have any way of knowing that the officers who are in the field happen to be exactly the ones we don't want him to see. We will be relying on those who remain to put on a pleasing display that should allay any concerns he has and make our organization seem as inoffensive, nonthreatening, and obedient as possible." "So who's going to be left?" you ask him. "Who will be interacting with Enik most when he makes the inspection?" "I'm sending Tallys, Halek, and Ayla on another mission with a separate team," Blade answers. "Just in case. That leaves the majority of the captains with less checkered pasts, as well as Riel, Lavinet, Shery, and Briony. He won't take much notice of the standard recruits." He gives a dismissive flick of his hand. "Riel and Lavinet are well-equipped to charm or otherwise deflect personages like the Autarch—and they lend the Order an air of legitimacy, especially to outsiders who would prefer conventional Norm leadership of the Shepherds. And Shery is exceptionally good at making things seem… nonthreatening. So is Briony, so long as she can control her strength: she can seem quite winsome and sets others' fears at ease, when she puts her mind to it. Others will be in place to ensure the operation goes smoothly." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"You brilliant bastard."' 'youbrilliant7bastard'>><<setcourage +1>><<setloyal -3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Wow, and I thought Ket were all about following orders to the letter and obeying authority."' 'wow7and'>><<setblade +3>><<if $charisma gte 50 and $bladeromanceflag gte 20>><<set $bladeromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <<if $courage gte 70 and $bladeromanceflag gte 10>><li><<link '"You\'re so sexy when you\'re being subversive."' 'youre7so'>><<setcourage +3>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 20>><<setblade +1>><</if>><<if $blade lt 50 or $bladeromanceflag lt 15>><<set $bladeromanceflag -= 1>><<setblade -3>><</if>><<if $troubleromanceflag gte 20>><<set $troubleromanceflag -= 3>><</if>><<if $redromanceflag gte 20>><<set $redromanceflag -= 3>><</if>><<if $chasesex is true or $chaseromanceflag gte 20>><<setchase -3>><<set $chaseromanceflag -= 1>><</if>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link '"I don\'t know, something about this seems cowardly."' 'i7dontknow'>><<fair_plus "$blade" -10>><<setchase -3>><<settrouble -1>><<set $cantbecommander += 1>><<setcourage +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I wish I could stay. This could be my only chance to meet the new Autarch in person."' 'i7wish'>><<setred +1>><<setcourage +1>><<setintelligence +2>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Understood, Commander."' 'understood7commander'>><<fair_plus "$loyal" +10>><<setblade +3>><<setchase -3>><</link>></li> </ul>

It is a really clever scheme. He's removing the elements that make the Order look suspect, unpalatable, or intolerable in Enik's eyes. Out of sight, out of mind, and being on a vital, deadly mission is a good excuse to be absent from an inspection. Blade huffs lightly, possibly at the fact that you called your commanding officer a bastard—but he seems pleased by your regard. <<include "you7talk">>

"I suppose, then, that I am not a very good Ket," Blade answers lightly. <<nobr>><<if $blade gte 70>> He smiles faintly at you. "But I will protect my own, for as long as I believe that we're doing the right thing. If that makes me a poor example of a Ket, then so be it." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "you7talk">>

Trouble, who'd been drinking from a glass of water, inhales sharply and chokes; Chase has to reach over and thump his back, hard. Blade briefly looks shocked by your boldness, before his expression retreats behind the mask of Ket imperviousness. <<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 20>> He clears his throat and looks away. <<else>> "If you say so," he says, not seeming to know what else to say. He seems distinctly uncomfortable, though. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "you7talk">>

Trouble frowns at you. "I think it's smart," he says. "And that's coming from someone who likes to meet my fights head-on." You shrug. "If you say so. I just don't think we need to be afraid of someone like Enik Goldenson." "It is not a matter of fear," Blade says, his voice cold and clipped, "but of outmaneuvering your opponent." "I thought the <i>demons</i> were our opponent," you say, your voice dripping with sarcasm. He actually rolls his eyes at you, but says nothing more, apparently disinterested in continuing the discussion. <<include "you7talk">>

Blade arches a brow. "You would want that?" You shrug. "The old Autarch never showed herself among the public. I doubt I'll ever get the chance to meet the new one like this again." "I sort of agree," Red says with a rueful grin. "On an intellectual level, I've always been curious about what an Autarch is like in person. It's like… meeting the most famous person on the Continent, or a holy figure, or something. You just have to wonder what they're like in the flesh." "Unpleasant, usually," Blade says, flat. "Prone to ordering a lot of executions. You're welcome to stay, if you're that curious." Red holds his hands up. "Just agreeing with <<c firstname>>, that's all. We understand why it has to be this way, of course." "My experience, Autarchs are like lions," Chase breaks in easily. "Fascinating, majestic, but best viewed from afar." Blade almost looks like he might laugh; instead, his face is stoic, unimpressed. "How would <i>you</i> know?" he asks, scornful in a way that suggests that he's playing along with it. <<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 25>> "I dunno. Just felt like I should say something before you set Red on fire with your eyes." <<else>> "You didn't know? I have tea with good ol' Eenie boy every sennight." <br><br> "Chase," Red says, "you can't call the new Autarch '<i>Eenie boy</i>.'" <br><br> "What's he going to do? I won't be around for his inspection." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "you7talk">>

Blade nods, seemingly appreciative of your formal tone, and continues on in the same businesslike manner. <<include "you7talk">>

You talk for a while longer, but there's not much more information to be given in regards to your upcoming mission to the Bleakmoor Marshes. Eventually you're dismissed and left to prepare—as best you can—for the treacherous and fraught journey ahead. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "you7talki">><</link>></center>

<span class="splash">Some Time Later</span><span class="splashblur"></span>Several days later finds you staring at the vast and primordial tangle of swamp that lies before you, a gray-green morass of stunted trees and spiky brush, of slimy lichen and water and vine, a wall of impenetrable black lying further within the great snarl of plants while clots of white fog ooze out of it. There is a great stench of rot and damp. With trepidation, you realize that the entire place is humming like a machine, an immense buzzing sound so low and persistent that it's almost impossible to hear. You really hope that isn't the sound of insect wings. Trouble stands beside you and issues one soft, vigorous curse. Chase studies how the golden grassland of the Damba Plains quickly fades to dull scrub, then clay, then black muck as it touches the swampland's edge. "How'd this all even get here?" he asks in awe. "Doesn't make a lot of sense, does it? All around is dry savannah—and then to the North, you've got mountains, steppes, and then Thielwood. Why's a big swamp in the middle of it all?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"No idea."' 'behind7you'>><<setintelligence -3>><</link>></li> <<if $intelligence gte 70>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"The mouth of the river Tannin dumps out into this area, creating an excess of peat: decayed vegetable matter, which becomes waterlogged and forms the swamp."</div>' 'the7mouth'>><<setred +3>><<setintelligence +3>><<setchase +1>><<if ($chaseread is true and $chaseromanceflag gte 20) or $chasesex is true>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">"The mouth of the river Tannin dumps out into this area, creating an excess of peat: decayed vegetable matter, which becomes waterlogged and forms the swamp."</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link '"They say the Bleakmoor was the site of a great battle in the past, and the darkness of that event created a toxic miasma that poisoned the land."' 'they7say'>><<setchase +3>><<setred -3>><<setfaith +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

"This area is usually cloudy and overcast," you add. "So there's no strong sun to dry up the water and soil before more marsh plants grow in it, and the mud turns into more peat. That's how the marshland came to be." <<nobr>><<if ($chaseread is true and $chaseromanceflag gte 20) or $chasesex is true>> Chase beams at you, practically growing with pride. "That's my $nickname," he says fondly. "So damn smart." <<else>> "Huh," Chase says. "Dunno how you know that, but color me impressed." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "behind7you">>

Chase cocks his head slightly. "Oh, yeah?" Then he shrugs. "Sounds as good a reason as any." "Does that means there's ghosts in there?" Trouble asks, jerking his chin towards the imposing swampland. He's joking, but his eyes look vaguely nervous. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Maybe."' 'mayb7e'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You can hold my hand if you get scared."' 'you7can'>><<if $troubleromanceflag gte 20>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Ghosts don\'t exist."' 'ghosts7dont'>><<setintelligence +1>><<setfaith -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I think ghosts are going to be the least of our worries, in there."' 'i7think'>><<setintelligence +1>><<setcunning +3>><</link>></li> </ul>

He scowls. "You're lying." "Don't worry, Trubs," Chase says then. "If there are ghosts, they'll be put off by your snoring." "I don't snore." "Your bedroll is right next to mine. You snore." <<include "behind7you">>

<<nobr>><<if $troubleromanceflag gte 20>> He scowls and looks away. "Don't be dumb," he mumbles, scratching his cheek. His face looks like it's gone hot. <<else>> He rolls his eyes. "Not necessary," he grunts, "but thanks for the offer." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "behind7you">>

He rubs the back of his neck, muttering, "Yeah, obviously." <<include "behind7you">>

He scowls. "You're right, but I don't have to like that answer." <<include "behind7you">>

Behind you, Red and Blade have been poring over a map of the place as you stand and contemplate your fates before diving into the Bleakmoor: the prospect feels as ominous as throwing yourself into a bottomless pit. Red has been trying to memorize your recent trajectory and the exact location of this spot, especially in anticipation of the labyrinthine geography of the marshland: in order to translocate effectively, he has to know his destination thoroughly, by heart, and it wouldn't do for him to get so turned around in the swamp that he won't be able to find his way back out here. Finally, they look up, peering into the marshland and conversing in low, concerned voices. Red sighs and rubs his face. "Trekking through that on foot is not going to be fun," he remarks. You'd stabled your ahfuri in the last town, knowing that they'd be useless trying to wade through the water and muck. To your dismay, you'd also discovered that the mounts of the previous squads had been housed there, and that their owners never returned to claim them. You hope that you won't be just the next participants of the cycle—that the next team won't find your abandoned ahfuri in the same place as the others, too. Blade approaches you, showing you all the map he's brought, with an unlabeled location circled on the vague splotch indicating the Bleakmoor. "That is Wallmire," he says, frowning at the spot like it's a blemish. "It should take us three or four days to reach it, perhaps a few more if we encounter… complications." "Let's hope we don't encounter any complications, then," Chase says cheerfully. "Shall we go?" The others, including Blade, look to you. "Are you ready, <<c firstname>>?" he asks. <ul class="choices"> <<if $loyal lt 50 or $compassionate lt 50>><li><<link 'You bristle. "Why are you asking me?" Do they think you\'re the weakest link in the chain?' 'you7bristle'>><<setloyal -5>><<setblade -3>><<set $bladeromanceflag -= 1>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link 'Look around at the others. "I am. What about you all?"' 'look7naround'>><<setcharisma +1>><<setloyal +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'You brace yourself. "As ready as I\'ll ever be."' 'and7with'>><<setcourage +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'You nod determinedly. "Let\'s help those villagers."' 'and7with'>><<setcourage +1>><<setcompassionate +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'You shudder. "Not really, but it\'s not as if we have a choice."' 'and7with'>><<setcunning +1>><<setcourage -3>><</link>></li> </ul>

He frowns at you. "I ask to ensure you're prepared," he says. "You didn't ask anyone else," you point out. <<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 15>> "Because I—" He sighs in annoyance. "Forget it. Let's go." <<else>> "Forgive me," he says coldly. "It was a mistake. I didn't mean to offend you." <br><br> Trouble looks to and fro, making the awkward silence even more painful. "Let's just go," he grunts after a moment. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "and7with">>

They all nod, looking serious. "Ready," Chase answers without hesitation, and Trouble hefts his gun and Red smiles a little in agreement. Blade nods and puts a hand lightly on his sword. <<include "and7with">>

And with that, you take the plunge. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Into the Bleakmoor </span></div></div>' "into7bleak">><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<if settings.music is true>><<audio ":playing" fadeout>><<audio "swamp" volume 0 loop fadeoverto 10 0.1>><</if>><</nobr>>You dive into the Bleakmoor Swamp, batting aside thick vines, thorny branches, and soft curtains of cobwebs and lichen as you go. The going is about as miserable as you expected, with some added fun surprises. At first, you try to stick to dry land, which is soft and narrow and mucky, hemmed on all sides by the green-gray water of the marshes. But even avoiding wading through the water offers little reprieve: the mud sucks at your feet like the mouth of some hungry creature, and jagged sticks rise from the thin scraps of solid path to jab at your feet in angry barbs. The low, dark trees close overhead like hands. The air is muggy and close and smelly, making it feel difficult to breathe. Light disappears rapidly, so that the rare peeks of sunlight overhead flash abruptly into your brain as stabbing, painful streaks. Even sound is distorted: when you look straight ahead, everything around you sounds muted, warped. You can hear Trouble cursing and splashing, but is it to the left or to the right? A hundred paces away, or ten? It's a wholly eerie effect. Still, you encounter nothing that would indicate anything is amiss. The Bleakmoor is pestilent and unpleasant, but doesn't seem to hold anything more dangerous or supernatural than clutches of ghost-green crabs scurrying angrily after you, nipping at your heels; once, you crash through a bush and scatter a knot of puffy-jawed snakes into the nearby water. <<nobr>><<if $aroace is false and $aro is false>> <<romancecalc>> <<include "flirtswamp1">> <<else>> <<include "flirtswamp2">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $highestromance is "trouble" and $troubleromanceflag gte 20>> Trouble is vigilant and protective beside you, always hovering close by and nudging you and steering you out of the way of perceived hazards, providing a steadying hand on your elbow or your back. <<if $troubleromanceflag gte 20>> It gives you the slight impression of being herded, and it would be exasperating if it wasn't cute—and if he didn't have such a worried, earnest expression on his face. <</if>> One time, a shrieking bird erupts from the underbrush and startles the both of you, and Trouble grips your arm hard enough to bruise it, ready to hurl you out of harm's way. He stares at the bird with such an honest look of fury afterwards that it makes you laugh. <br><br> <<include "into7bleaki">> <<elseif $highestromance is "blade" and $bladeromanceflag gte 30>> Blade is hyper-vigilant and alert beside you, always keeping an eye on you from his periphery and staring at you with a slightly anxious, worried frown. Once or twice, he materializes at your side to provide a steadying hand on your elbow, or to silently offer you his hand over large gaps, or to sharply hold you back when your next step would send you plunging into the water. However, every time this happens, he lets you go as if you'd burned him, and he goes a little ways ahead as if to put some distance between you. But he always seems to gravitate back within hovering range, as if an invisible tether ties him to you—however reluctantly. It makes for a very confusing kind of dance. <br><br> <<include "into7bleaki">> <<elseif $highestromance is "red" and $redromanceflag gte 18>> Red is a warm and steadying presence at your side, almost like a beacon in the darkness; he's always there to offer a steadying hand on your elbow or a guiding hand on your back, never failing to give you a quick, reassuring grin when you glance his way. He has a way of sidling on up to you and checking in with you in an easygoing, non-pressuring way, whispering, "How are you doing?" and offering you a bar of chocolate or a drink of water and smiling with pleased, gentle affection when you accept. You can't help but feel as if the air lightens whenever he does this, and there's the warm feeling of being <i>looked after</i>—he always seems to be conscious of you, aware of you in some way, even when he's staring at 'exceedingly-rare moss formations' with rapt attention and regard. <br><br> <<include "into7bleaki">> <<elseif ($highestromance is "chase" and $chaseromanceflag gte 20) or $chasesex is true>> Chase is a light and uplifting presence beside you, often darting ahead to check things out, but always returning faithfully to your side. He makes his presence known with feather-light touches and familiar pats—sometimes on the head, sometimes on the hip, once on your rear with a wink—and has a habit of gently brushing a lock of hair out of your face or tapping your chin playfully to distract you. He has no issue with wading through muck so you don't have to, allowing you to take the dry path or the rotten log while he forges on gamely through the water. Once, when your energy ebbs and your spirits feel low, you glance over to find him blatantly staring at you, an intensive and perceptive look on his face. He immediately sends you a secret wink and an air-kiss, and you can't help but smile. His playfulness never wavers; right now, it feels like he's your sunshine, not the other way around. He seems reluctant to leave your side, even for a moment. <br><br> <<include "into7bleaki">> <<else>> <<include "flirtswamp2">> <</if>><</nobr>>

The others try to make light conversation, to keep spirits high, but after a few hours of walking and wading, all talk ebbs and the sounds of insects and water creep back in. <<include "into7bleaki">>

After a few hours, Blade calls a brief halt, glancing up at what little light you can see through the dense, dark trees. It might just be your imagination, but the sliver of sky that you can make out seems grayish, subdued. <<nobr>><<if $specialization is "elementalist" and $astral gte 30>> <br><br> You reach out with your magic, threading it through the air the way a snake's tongue might taste the invisible currents all around it: you feel an answering quiver, an electric thrum in the air that makes your Elementalist senses tingle. It's going to rain later, and hard. <br><br> You inform the others of this, and Blade's mouth turns down. <<elseif $blade gte 70>> <br><br> You glance quizzically at Blade, and he answers with a succinct but expressive jerk of his chin: it's going to rain. Not now, but later. And hard. <</if>><</nobr>> "Let's take a short break," Blade says, discussing something with Chase in quick, decisive tones. "Catch your breaths, empty your boots if you need to. Chase and I are going to scout the area, see if there's anything of note before we move on." He nods to the expanse of dull gray water that stretches ahead of you, roots and vines threading under its surface like dark veins. "That's the direction we need to go. If you see any dry paths, take note." They vanish together into the brush. It turns out that while Blade is an expert tracker, one of Chase's many hidden talents include stealth hunting—he won't divulge why or how, but he can track a panicked hare through thick grass all the way to its den, which comes in handy when searching an area for footprints or other useful tidbits. You watch them go, Blade seeming to dematerialize into the gloom, Chase bounding off into the scrub with his head cocked like a hound's. You, Red, and Trouble look to each other. The air is warm and smells strangely sweet, as if rotting fruit was nearby. The whir of something in your ear startles you; you slap at your face and feel nothing but the sting of your own hand. Sweat trickles down your back like the crawl of insects, so intense that you can almost hear it. "Well," Red says lightly after a moment. "I suppose we should look around and see if there's any way around—<i>that</i>." He nods to the large swamp ahead of you, the water of which comes up at least waist-high. "But let's stay within each other's lines of sight, shall we? We still don't know how things, ah, work, here. Don't want to risk getting separated or lost." You and Trouble nod—and then you begin hunting for ways across the next stretch of marshland that don't involve going for a swim. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Investigate the large fallen tree half-sunk into the marsh.' 'investigate7the'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Try hopping across the rocks jutting up out of the water.' 'try7hopping'>><</link>></li> <<if ($specialization is "elementalist" and $astral gte 50) or ($astral gte 65 and $magic gte 50)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Use elemental magic to create a way to walk on the water.</div>' 'use7elemental'>><<setmagic +3>><<setastral +3>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Use elemental magic to create a way to walk on the water.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> </ul>

There's a vast, fallen tree trunk partially submerged in the swamp. If you can follow its length without falling into the water, you could reach a scrap of land on the marsh's far side and continue your journey from there. The only problem is that the wood of the log is soft and rotten with damp, bobbing dangerously in some places and crumbling to nothing in others. You'll have to rely on a fine sense of physical balance in order to make it all the way across. You climb onto the log, testing its strength, and stick to the side closest to your starting shore, for now, waiting for Trouble and Red to finish up their own investigations and for Chase and Blade to return from their scouting. <<include "into7bleakii">>

There's a crop of jagged, sharp rocks poking out of the marsh like the broken spine of some sleeping underwater creature. With some maneuvering, you could jump across the swamp using these rocks to reach the scrap of land on the far side and continue your journey from there. But the surface of the rocks is slick with moisture, smooth, and pointed; you'll have to rely on a fine sense of physical balance and agility in order to make it all the way across. You test the stability of one rock, then the next, while you wait for Trouble and Red to finish up looking around, and for Chase and Blade to return from their scouting. <<include "into7bleakii">>

You could technically part the water, but the mud underneath would still be sticky and impossibly soft, so figuring out a way to manipulate its surface seems more doable. You won't be able to do this through the entire swampland, not for all five of you, but for situations where you have no other choice? Magic like this comes in handy. You practice hardening the surface of the water, creating a pliant, fluid kind of path utilizing its surface tension and layers of both air and ice. Soon enough, you have a traversable path across the swamp, formed out of the very marshwater itself. You settle on the surface of the water, swaying a little with the movement of it as you acclimate to the new sensations, gauging whether you could manage this with five people across a short distance. Red and Trouble are still looking around, just on your periphery, and Chase and Blade haven't yet returned from their scouting. <<include "into7bleakii">>

As you wait, a glint at the corner of your eye suddenly catches your attention. You turn your head to look, and you see that something is… floating, bobbing down at the bottom of the marsh, barely discernible for all its wine-dark murk. For a moment, you have the horrible impression of—well, you're not exactly sure what. Its movement makes you think of a knob of bone drifting around, or the lure of some ancient alien fish. But you squint harder, and the object resolves a little in detail. It's shiny, metal, palm-sized, obviously man-made. Within arm's reach, if you're willing to plunge your arm up to the shoulder into the dark water to scrabble for it. And your curiosity is more than a little piqued: the Bleakmoor is so desolate, so isolated, and so few actually plumb its depths that an object like this seems rare and significant. It could be a clue regarding your case… or then again, it could be nothing. You peer around, but there's nothing in the water that strikes you as immediately dangerous, other than the darkness of its depths. The object glimmers in a sudden flash from the sun. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Reach for the object.' 'reach7for'>><<setcourage +3>><<setcunning -3>><<if $strength gte 65>><<setstrength +3>><<if ($specialization is "conjurer" and $arcane gte 30) or $arcane gte 50>><<setarcane +3>><</if>><<else>><<sethealth -30>><<set $bloodmorph to true>><</if>><</link>></li> <<if $magic gte 40 and $cunning gte 50>><li><<link 'Levitate the object up to you.' 'levitate7the'>><<setcunning +3>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link 'Leave the object alone.' 'leave7the'>><<setcourage -3>><</link>></li> </ul>

You bend down and dip your arm into the water, grimacing at the slimy feel of its surface—but otherwise, it's only chilly and wet, just like any other body of water you've ever reached into. You stretch down as far as you can go, but the bobbing, shining thing underneath the water's surface just eludes your grasp, barely grazing your fingertips. Just a little farther... Then you see something move. Before you can react, you see an eruption of cloudy movement to your right, deep within the murky shadows of the water. A—a creature, huge and writhing and eel-like, eyeless and sporting a hideous circular mouth, flashes out of its hiding place in the mud and lunges for your hand, quick as a viper… or even faster. <<nobr>><<if $strength gte 65>> You snatch your arm back just in time, reeling back from the surface of the water just as the creature breaks it, lunging for your hand and just barely missing your fingers. It makes a horrible gasping noise as it streaks past your face and lands with a smooth little splash back into the water behind you. <<if $courage lt 70>> You can't help but give a strangled scream of surprise. <</if>> <br><br> Trouble and Red come running. "What? What is it?" The blond sniper looks wild-eyed as you leap back to the shore, keenly aware that that <i>thing</i> could jump out at you again any second. <br><br> You hurriedly explain what happened, and they listen with wide, startled eyes. <<if $troublehate is false>> "Shit, glad you're okay," Trouble says. <</if>> "What do you think it was?" <br><br> You shake your head. "I don't know. I've never seen anything like it." The creature most closely resembled a black eel, though much larger than any eel you've ever seen—thin, but almost as long as half your entire body, with a larger, bulbous head. You can't get the memory of its circular, gaping mouth looming towards you, filled with dozens of spiraling rows of razor-sharp teeth. <br><br> Red takes both your elbows and pulls you back from the water's edge. "Sounds like it was a bloodmorph," he states, his voice calm but his eyes somewhat nervous. "Sort of like a parasitic eel; it latches onto its prey and uses those teeth to grind into its flesh, drinking its blood. Once it's drained its victim dry, it, er—swells up, and undergoes some sort of metamorphosis, sprouting primitive legs that it uses to crawl on land. Then it does the whole thing over again. Its largest form, I think, can drop on people from above, but luckily other predators seem to like eating it enough that we don't need to worry much about that. Probably." <br><br> Trouble's head swivels around to gape at him. "We been wading around in the water with <i>that</i>, and you never said anything?" <br><br> "I'd forgotten they existed until <<c firstname>> talked about the teeth," Red says faintly. "I was too busy worrying about the melon-sized mosquitoes." <br><br> "<i>Melon-sized</i>—" <br><br> You cautiously survey the swampwater again; from your vantage point, the shiny object is still there, and you can't see any sign of the bloodmorph. But you have a feeling it's lurking, just waiting for you to try again. <br><br> <<if ($specialization is "conjurer" and $arcane gte 30) or $arcane gte 50>> Luckily for you, retrieving objects is something of a specialty: Conjuration magic does have its perks. You train your eyes on the glint of the item, do some calculations on distance in your head, and then snap your fingers. The object instantly vanishes beneath the water, then reappears in your hand, cold and wet and glittering. <br><br> Trouble starts, blinking rapidly at you, but Red only quirks his mouth ruefully and gives an approving nod. "Smart," he says. "I was just about to suggest the same thing." <br><br> <<include "finally7you">> <<else>> Red catches your gaze and smiles ruefully. "Don't worry," he says, patting your shoulder, "despite what Chase likes to imply, we Conjuration-based Mages are good for <i>some</i> things." He strides over to the edge of the water, crouches, and sights the metallic object that you pointed out, still bobbing temptingly beneath the surface of the water. Then, easy as anything, he snaps his fingers—and the object vanishes, only to appear in his hand in the next instant, cold and wet and glittering. <br><br> Red hands it over to you, grinning. "Should have asked me to start with," he says, his tone deceptively mild. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Roll your eyes. "I thought I could just grab it. Didn\'t know there was a blood-sucking creature waiting to gnaw my arm off."' 'roll7your'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Arch a brow. "Have fun showing off?"' 'arch7a'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Answer gratefully. "Thanks, Red. Didn\'t fancy having to go back in there."' 'answer7gratefully'>><<setred +1>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> <<if $redromanceflag gte 20>><li><<link 'Pat him flirtatiously on the hip. "Knew there was a reason I kept you around."' 'pat7him'>><<set $redromanceflag += 1>><<if $troubleromanceflag gte 3>><<set $troubleromanceflag -= 1>><</if>><</link>></li><</if>> </ul> <</if>> <<else>> You try to snatch your arm back, but you're too slow; the creature latches onto you with terrifying, nearly bone-crushing force, wrapping the length of its strong, slippery body around your arm and folding it against your shoulder so fiercely that you think the bone might actually snap. You howl in pain and shock, but nothing prepares you for the second agony; the creature locks its circular horror of a mouth against your wrist, and you immediately feel the saw-like grind of its teeth against your flesh. <br><br> Trouble and Red come running, but they're a few precious seconds away, and all you can think through the burning pain is that you need to get this monster <i>off</i>. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Incinerate the thing to a crisp.' 'incinerate7the'>><<if $astral gte 55>><<setastral +1>><<else>><<sethealth -20>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Seize hold of its mind and force it to release you.' 'seize7hold'>><<if $specialization is "wild" or $psionic gte 50>><<setpsionic +1>><<else>><<sethealth -20>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Teleport it somewhere far, far away from you.' 'teleport7it'>><<if ($specialization is "conjurer" and $arcane gte 40) or $arcane gte 55>><<setarcane +1>><<else>><<sethealth -20>><</if>><</link>></li> </ul> <</if>><</nobr>>

He shakes his head. "Just… try not to reach into dark water if you can help it, all right?" "I would've done the same thing," Trouble mutters then. "And gotten my arm bit off for my troubles." <<include "finally7you">>

"A little," he says lightly. "I don't get to do it very often." <<include "finally7you">>

He smiles at you. "No problem, <<c halfname2>>. Just—don't reach into dark water if you can help it, all right?" <<include "finally7you">>

Red grins, rubbing the back of his neck in a casual display. <<nobr>><<if $redromanceflag gte 20>> "Keeping me around <i>does</i> have plenty of perks," he says, his voice pitched a bit lower than usual. For a moment, he sounds downright <i>flirtatious</i>. <br><br> Trouble throws him a look of thorough disgust. "What the hell just happened to your voice?" <br><br> Red flashes you another knowing grin and shrugs. "Got some pollen in my throat, that's all." <br><br> "Yeah. Sure." <<else>> "Ah, that's what I'm here for. Teleporting objects away from dangerous parasites and getting things off of really tall shelves." <br><br> Trouble snorts. "Really? You never did either one for me." <br><br> "That's because you never ask me to get things down from shelves. You just kick the wall until they fall off." <br><br> "That happened <i>one</i> time." <br><br> "You could have gotten it, too. You just had to stretch." <br><br> "My back was all fucked up, what did you want me to do?" <br><br> "<i>Ask me</i>." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "finally7you">>

You grit your teeth and set the thing on fire with your mind, astral flame erupting along its black flesh and blistering it instantly. <<nobr>><<if $astral gte 55>> The monster immediately releases your wrist and lets loose a kind of shrill, horrible squeal—but its body tightens around your arm for just another second, so that for a terrible moment you think it will lock up in some kind of rigor mortis and refuse to let you go. But then its grip loosens—the white flame is devouring it quickly—and it slackens, then falls to the ground, writhing pitifully as it burns. Shortly thereafter, it dies. <<else>> The monster immediately releases your wrist and lets loose some kind of shrill, horrible squeal—but its body tightens around your arm, so that for a terrible moment you think it will lock up in some kind of rigor mortis and refuse to let you go. <br><br> That ends up being exactly what happens; the creature tightens up in a painful knot that you can't pry loose, and the pain makes your brain scream and your eyes burn. You almost black out. What's worse is that your grip on the magic slips, darkness creeping on the edges of your vision, and soon enough, you feel the touch of fire against your flesh, too. The spell has waged out of control and is now burning you! You immediately dispel it, and soon after, the creature slackens and falls to the ground, too—but the damage is done. Not only are you bleeding, but your skin is blistered and red from your own destructive magic. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "trouble7and">>

<<nobr>><<if $specialization is "wild" or $psionic gte 50>> You reach out with your mind and <i>yank</i>, not bothering to be delicate about it. You lobotomize the creature instantly, pulling some dark and vital wire in its brain; it slumps instantly to the ground, essentially rendered mindless by the force of your psionic contact. No matter: from what you glimpsed, it had no more intelligence than any other simple aquatic predator, like a piranha or an eel. <<else>> You reach out with your mind and <i>yank</i>, not bothering to be delicate about it. For an instance, the creature fights your hold, digging its teeth in and tightening its grip around your arm; you hear something pop and scream through your teeth in agony. In the next moment, you find purchase in its slippery animal mind—no more intelligent than an eel or a piranha, but full of vicious bloodthirst—and claw at it, crushing its thoughts like pulp. The creature slumps to the ground, essentially lobotomized. But the damage is already done; not only are you bleeding, but your shoulder feels like it's been dislocated, as well. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "trouble7and">>

<<nobr>><<if ($specialization is "conjurer" and $arcane gte 40) or $arcane gte 55>> You grit your teeth and catch the thing up in your mind, thinking about its atoms dissolving into the air, about pushing it away from you—anywhere, so long as it's far, the dry plains outside of the Bleakmoor, maybe, or tangled in the thorny, painful branches of that shrub… <br><br> There's a slight drag in the air, a slight tug of resistance as space tries to fold around your whims—and then the creature pops out of existence, releasing your arm instantaneously. You breathe a sigh of relief. In the end, you sent it into the furnace of the blacksmith's smelt back home. That flame is so hot and vast that no one would probably even notice something was in there. <<else>> You grit your teeth and catch the thing up in your mind, thinking about its atoms dissolving into the air, about pushing it away from you—anywhere, so long as it's far, the dry plains outside of the Bleakmoor, maybe, or tangled in the thorny, painful branches of that shrub… <br><br> There's a slight drag in the air, a slight tug of resistance as space tries to fold around your whims—and in response, the creature tightens its grip on you, as if determined not to go without taking you with it. You hear something pop, feel a horrible looseness in your shoulder, and you scream through gritted teeth; the combined pain is so sharp, so blinding, that you almost pass out. <br><br> There's a suction of air as the spell tries to drag the creature off of you and whisk it away to where you want to send it. But your concentration slips—the pain is too vast—and for a moment, your arm is dragged along with it, stretching painfully as you try to avoid being sucked into your own teleportation. More things in your arm pop. But then your thoughts stabilize, and the spell takes hold, and in the next instant, the creature pops out of existence, releasing your arm. Only silence and stillness is left in its wake. You heave a few gulps of air. You're lucky that your limb didn't go with it. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "trouble7and">>

Trouble and Red arrive just as you cradle your arm to your chest, your wrist and forearm streaked with blood. Trouble gives a low shout of alarm, <<nobr>><<if ($specialization is "healer" and $astral gte 45) or ($astral gte 70 and $magic gte 70 and $intelligence gte 50)>> <<setastral +1>><<if $health gte 70>><<set $health to 100>><<else>><<set $health to 90>><</if>> but you wave him off, your healing magic already hard at work to seal the wound. It's not as bad as it looks, but the vicious speed and suddenness of the attack was definitely alarming, and the creature's needle-like teeth decidedly hurt. In moments, however, you feel a cool, minty touch of magic stealing away your pain—and then you flex your hand experimentally. The wounds are gone, and your arm is as good as new, only the healed flesh of your wrist a little pink and tender. <br><br> Red breathes a sigh of relief. "Thank the gods," he says, running a hand through his hair. "Are you all right? What happened?" <<else>> and Red starts forward instantly, tearing his pack off and ripping open packets of strong medicinal salve. He examines your arm carefully, then mutters, "I don't think there was any venom—we need to clean the wound, prevent infection—" <br><br> Your eyes blur as he sets to work, and soon enough, the cool, minty touch of the healing salve does its work, numbing the pain. You close your eyes and breathe a sigh of relief, willing your arm to relax as Red begins to wrap the wound with clean gauze, and Trouble circles restlessly. <br><br> Finally, your wrist is bandaged and dressed, and the pain has dulled to an aching throb. Red gives you a reassuring pat on the knee, not bothering to hide his silent relief, while Trouble watches you with a tense, unhappy expression. <br><br> "What <i>was</i> that thing?" he asks. <</if>><</nobr>> They frown as you explain what happened: how you spotted the object in the water, how the creature suddenly attacked you. "I think it was a bloodmorph," Red murmurs, sitting back on his heels and looking towards the water. None of you quite want to examine the bloody mess on the ground, left from your encounter. "It's a parasitic eel, sort of; it latches onto its prey and uses those teeth to grind into their flesh, drinking their blood. Once it's drained its victim dry, it, er—swells up, and undergoes some sort of metamorphosis, sprouting primitive legs that it uses to crawl on land. Then it does the whole thing over again. Its largest form, I think, can drop on people from above, but luckily other predators seem to like eating it enough that we don't need to worry much about that. Probably." "What the <i>fuck</i>," Trouble says emphatically. <<nobr>><<if $troubleromanceflag gte 20>> He seizes your good arm, looks you over with a hard, worried gaze. "You <i>sure</i> you're all right, <<c halfname>>?" <br><br> You nod weakly. "It wasn't attached to me for long. It didn't do much damage." <br><br> He shakes his head. "And what'd you go reaching into the water for? You said you saw something shiny?" <<else>> He turns to you. "And what'd you go reaching into the water for? You said you saw something shiny?" <</if>><</nobr>> You nod, and they both carefully—<i>very</i> carefully—approach the water's edge again, surveying the depths of the murky swamp. Eventually they both come back, shaking their heads. "I don't see anything," Red reports. "Something else must have either snatched it in all the commotion, or it sank deeper into the marsh." Your hand tightens protectively around your wrist. "Well, it's not worth diving for," you answer bitterly. Still, that such a thing was lost after all of <i>that</i> stings, almost worse than your arm does. <<include "bladeandchasereturn">>

Finally, you turn to examine the object you retrieved from the water. When Red holds it up to the sun, it's immediately apparent what the thing is: you carry the same item strung around your neck, after all. You feel your blood run cold as Red takes in a sharp breath and Trouble curses quietly. It's a Shepherd's medallion, free-floating in the marsh water. Someone you knew has been this way. <<include "clue1">>

You concentrate, tugging with your mind, and after a moment of resistance, you feel the object come unstuck from the mud clinging to it—and then it gets tangled on something, a branch or a root or a reed you can't quite see. You increase the intensity of your spell, plucking insistently, and finally the thing pries loose and begins to float up towards the surface of the water, drifting lazily. Suddenly, you see an eruption of cloudy movement to your right, deep within the murky depths of the water. A—a creature, huge and writhing and eel-like, eyeless and sporting a hideous circular mouth, flashes out of its hiding place in the mud and lunges at your object, snatching it up in its teeth. Then it whips around, clearly aiming to swim off with your prize. <ul class="choices"> <<if $strength gte 65>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Quickdraw your weapon and kill it.</div>' 'quick7draw'>><<setstrength +3>><<setcourage +1>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Quickdraw your weapon and kill it.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $magic gte 50>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Pull it clear out of the water with your magic.</div>' 'pull7clear'>><<setmagic +1>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Pull it clear out of the water with your magic.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link 'Let it go.' 'let7it'>><</link>></li> </ul>

In an instant, you draw your $mainweapon and <<nobr>><<if $mainweapon is "dagger" or $mainweapon is "sword">> stab it downwards, impaling the creature before it can make a quick getaway. The speed of your own response surprises even you. The eel-like creature thrashes and writhes against your blade, and when you fish it out of the water, it spurts steaming, lurid yellow blood from its wound, squealing aggressively. <<else>> fire, <<if $mainweapon is "gun">> the bullet piercing the creature's brain cleanly. <<else>> the arrow piercing the creature's brain cleanly. <</if>> The speed of your own response surprises even you. The creature writhes and flops, limp now, as you carefully fish it out of the water by its tail. It's still alive, though too wounded to do much than screech feebly and flail as you examine it at arm's length. Steaming, lurid yellow blood drips down its head and into the dark water, which is beginning to stir with interested movement again. <</if>><</nobr>> Red and Trouble come hurrying over, gazing at you with startled eyes as you hold the creature aloft and make your way back to the shore. "God's blood, <<c halfname>>, what <i>is</i> that thing?" Trouble exclaims. You look at the creature in distaste. It most closely resembles a black eel, though much larger than any eel you've ever seen—thin, but as long as half your body, with a larger, bulbous, eyeless head. Most unnerving is its circular, gaping mouth, filled with dozens of spiraling rows of razor-sharp teeth. "That's a bloodmorph," Red says, eyeing you like you might throw it at him on a lark. "It's a parasitic eel, sort of; it latches onto its prey and uses those teeth to grind into its flesh, drinking its blood. Once it's drained its victim dry, it, er—swells up, and undergoes some sort of metamorphosis, sprouting primitive legs that it uses to crawl on land. Then it does the whole thing over again. Its largest form, I think, can drop on people from above, but luckily other predators seem to like eating it enough that we don't need to worry much about that. Probably." "What the <i>fuck</i>," Trouble says emphatically. "I think its blood is also somewhat acidic," Red adds. "Careful, <<c firstname>>." You raise a brow and examine the lurching, gasping parasite. "It grabbed something I was trying to get at," you state. You can't see the bloodmorph's mouth from where you're standing. "Something shiny, man-made. Do either of you fancy getting it for me?" Trouble approaches you warily, then crouches slightly to look into the dangling bloodmorph's mouth. "You sure this thing had it?" he asks after a moment. "I wouldn't have bothered with it otherwise," you reply. He clucks his tongue. "…I think it swallowed it." Then he straightens. "And I'm sure as hell not reaching my hand into that mouth." What follows is a grisly process as you lay the thrashing bloodmorph onto the ground, decapitate it, and then begin to dissect it. You have to keep leaping back to avoid the unexpected spurts of acidic blood, and you keep unearthing alien sacs and organs where you don't expect to find any, some of them still pulsing in a truly gruesome manner. The smell is awful, close to rotten fish and metal and something chemical like paint stripper or varnish. Trouble keeps making disgruntled noises like he's going to gag, and Red keeps whispering about the evolutionary improbabilities of this or that. Finally, you manage to extract your prize, carefully bathing it in water from the marsh. At first, it's coated in so much yellow blood that you can't quite figure what to make of it; but as soon as the viscera has been cleared away, your own blood runs cold. "Oh, no," Red murmurs, looking aghast. "<i>Damn</i> it," Trouble hisses, his jaw clenching. You stare at the object you've found. It's a Shepherd medallion. Just like the one you wear around your neck. <<include "clue1">>

You grit your teeth, then make an arcing motion in your mind, imagining an invisible hook sinking into the creature and landing it on the shore like a snared fish. The creature in the water instantly surges out of the water and lands—bounces—gasping and screeching and writhing as it's pinned to the ground by your magic. It struggles against your hold for several seconds, trying to slip out of your grasp, but you're by far the stronger opponent, and you half-quash the life out of it. Trouble and Red come running. "God's blood, $halfname, what <i>is</i> that thing?" The blond gunslinger draws and cocks his pistol, pointing it at the trapped and flailing creature. You look at the creature in distaste as you make your way back to the shore. It most closely resembles a black eel, though much larger than any eel you've ever seen—thin, but as long as half your body, with a larger, bulbous, eyeless head. Most unnerving is its circular, gaping mouth, filled with dozens of spiraling rows of razor-sharp teeth. "That's a bloodmorph," Red says, approaching the thing <<nobr>><<if $red gte 70>> curiously; it's a show of his faith in you and your magic that he doesn't even seem to entertain the thought that you could accidentally lose your grip on it. <<else>> delicately, keeping well back in case it somehow manages to break your hold. <</if>><</nobr>> "It's a parasitic eel, sort of; it latches onto its prey and uses those teeth to grind into its flesh, drinking its blood. Once it's drained its victim dry, it, er—swells up, and undergoes some sort of metamorphosis, sprouting primitive legs that it uses to crawl on land. Then it does the whole thing over again. Its largest form, I think, can drop on people from above, but luckily other predators seem to like eating it enough that we don't need to worry much about that. Probably." "What the <i>fuck</i>," Trouble says emphatically. "I think its blood is also somewhat acidic," Red adds. "Careful, <<c firstname>>." You raise a brow and examine the lurching, gasping parasite. "It grabbed something I was trying to get at," you state. But you don't see any evidence of the glinting object, now. "…I think it swallowed it." Trouble raises a brow, still holding his gun. "Important?" "I wouldn't have bothered with it if I didn't think it was," you return. He grunts. Then he fires off a bullet, straight into the bloodmorph's brain. It screeches, flops once on the ground, and then dies. "Guess we gotta go digging, then." What follows is a grisly process as you lay the mutilated bloodmorph onto the ground, decapitate it for good measure, and then begin to dissect it. You have to keep leaping back to avoid the unexpected spurts of acidic blood, and you keep unearthing alien sacs and organs where you don't expect to find any, some of them still pulsing in a truly gruesome manner. The smell is awful, close to rotten fish and metal and something chemical like paint stripper or varnish. Trouble keeps making disgruntled noises like he's going to gag, and Red keeps whispering about the evolutionary improbabilities of this or that. Finally, you manage to extract your prize, carefully bathing it in water from the marsh. At first, it's coated in so much yellow blood that you can't quite figure what to make of it; but as soon as the viscera has been cleared away, your own blood runs cold. "Oh, no," Red murmurs, looking aghast. "<i>Damn</i> it," Trouble hisses, his jaw clenching. You stare at the thing you've found. It's a Shepherd medallion. Just like the one you wear around your neck. <<include "clue1">>

You curse, but immediately allow the tether of your magic to loosen, letting the strange, alien creature dart away with your prize. It wasn't worth going toe-to-toe with that… thing, not when you don't know what manner of beast dwells in this marsh. It wasn't likely to have been worth the fight, anyway. <<include "bladeandchasereturn">>

You back away, frowning, and in another moment, the object suddenly vanishes beneath the murk of the swamp. It's just as well. The circumstances were a bit suspicious—something tells you that no good could have come from reaching after that prize. <<include "bladeandchasereturn">>

You look up at the others, not knowing quite what to say. "Anyone know whose this was?" Red shakes his head, and Trouble scowls. Shepherd medallions are standard-issue and do not bear the names of their assigned officers, or any customization at all. The only detail you can glean from this is that the thin but sturdy chain has been forcibly snapped; however the owner lost their medallion, they were likely either in a hurry or a battle. Maybe both. The fact that they never stopped to retrieve it—<i>or did they try?</i>—only makes the whole thing even more ominous. You look around for more clues, but fail to spot anything of note. No footprints, no campsite, no bones, no evidence that anyone had ever been here before you—except for this medallion. It's as if the Bleakmoor had simply… swallowed them whole. Red and Trouble have fallen silent, the grim implications of your discovery setting in. You knew that the squads that had been deployed ahead of you were likely dead, of course. But to find something like this—and so soon after entering the vast marshland—sets a chill in your blood. What exactly happened to them? What took down three teams of decorated officers… and with the seeming ease and silence of a river crocodile snatching up a fish? <<include "bladeandchasereturn">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "bladeandchasereturni">><</link>></center>

Chase and Blade return then, as suddenly and noiselessly as if they'd solidified from mist. They look troubled, though no worse for the wear. <<nobr>><<if $bloodmorph is true>> <<if $highestromance is "blade" and $bladeromanceflag gte 25>> Blade catches sight of your injury instantly and moves forward like a stalking panther, a look of thunder on his face. His brows snap down. "What happened?" <br><br> His voice, sharp and whip-like, makes <<if $courage lt 50>> both you and Red wince; Trouble only looks guilty. <<else>> Red wince; Trouble only looks guilty, while you raise your chin. <</if>> You explain the situation to Blade, reassuring him that you're fine, <<if $health gte 90>> and for a moment, you see the flash of something across his face: concern, worry, fear, something like frustration or raw anger. Then it's gone in the next instant, leaving behind only stony assessment, and he steps forward and holds out his hand. "Let me see it," he says quietly. <<else>> but he clearly doesn't believe you. He opens his mouth to say something, stops, and then shakes his head, making a sharp, abortive gesture. "Let me see it," he says quietly, tightly. <</if>> <br><br> He spends a few moments looking the wound over, moving very carefully and gently, hardly even touching you. After a moment, his mouth tightens, and he pulls his hand away. "We'll debrief more later," he says, "and take a closer look at the wound when we can make a proper stop. We'll also discuss why such an injury occurred with two other officers in your close proximity." He flicks a pointed, piercing look at Trouble and Red. <br><br> You speak up instantly. "It's not their faults. I decided to reach into the water on my own." <br><br> Blade's narrow look only intensifies—but he only grunts. <<elseif $highestromance is "chase" and $chaseromanceflag gte 25>> <<if $health lt 90>> Chase catches sight of your injury instantly, and his eyes widen. <<else>> Chase catches sight of your mangled sleeve instantly, and his eyes widen. <</if>> He stuffs his hands in his pockets and says quietly, "You all right, $nickname?" <br><br> You nod, explaining the situation to both him and Blade; when Chase frowns, not exactly looking appeased, you assure him that you're fine. For a moment, it seems as if he wants to come forward and take your hand, or possibly draw you into a hug; but instead, he clenches his hands in his pockets and says, his tone measured and even, "Still, that whole ordeal sounds nasty. Better not make it a habit, I think." He seems strangely subdued and dejected, suddenly. <br><br> Blade casts him a skeptical sidelong glance before he says, "I trust you to look after your injury, <<c firstname>>. Tell me immediately if it begins to bother you." Notably, he doesn't reprimand you for reaching into the water; he simply moves on and says, "And you're sure that object you were after is gone?" <br><br> Trouble and Red nod. "We've checked all over," the red-haired Traveler responds. "Nothing." <br><br> Blade makes a thoughtful, sonorous sound. "A pity. But we can't dwell on it. If you see anything else like that, we'll address it as a group." <br><br> You all nod, perhaps a little relieved by his flat, neutral tone—but Chase, watching you, only frowns deeply to himself. After a moment, he shrugs and looks away, kicking at something on the ground with his boot. <<else>> Blade catches sight of your injury instantly and frowns. "What happened?" <br><br> You explain the situation and reassure him that you're fine and relatively unharmed. You're not totally sure that the Commander believes you, but after a moment of processing, he only says, "And you're sure the object is gone?" <br><br> "It's gone," Red confirms. "We've checked all over. Nothing." <br><br> Blade and Chase glance at each other; the thief shrugs eloquently, and Blade scowls. "That's a pity," he says after a moment, his voice clipped and brusque. "But we can't dwell on it. Monitor your injury, <<c firstname>>. If it worsens or begins to bother you, tell me at once." <</if>> <</if>><</nobr>> "Did you find anything?" Trouble asks them. Blade and Chase are silent for a moment. "It was barely anything," Chase says finally, his tone unusually somber. "Like, almost indiscernible. It's been weeks, and it's rained a lot. But we thought we could make out some faint prints, some evidence of a campfire. Dunno whose exactly, but given the timeline and the fact that it's not far from our path, it's hard to believe it wasn't one of the squads who came ahead of us." He turns to Blade, who seems inclined to hold his silence for a moment. But at your expectant looks, the Ket shakes his head and continues: "We can't draw any definitive conclusions. But what we could piece together seemed odd. Someone made camp for the night, or perhaps during the day when they were hemmed in by fog. And then something caused them to abruptly abandon that same camp and flee—possibly scattering in all directions." "Blind panic," Chase says, "or maybe a sudden attack. They never had a chance to prepare or coordinate. They just… bolted." You all absorb that in silence for a moment. <<nobr>><<if $kaidir is true>> Then you say, "I found something in the water, just over there. Had to get through a parasitic eel to retrieve it, but…" And you hold out the Shepherd's medallion that you found. <br><br> Chase grimaces, stuffing his hands in his pockets as if he's loath to touch the thing. Blade's eyes deaden instantly; you see the light go out of them, and a calculating, cold kind of battle fury take its place. He doesn't move an inch, only stands there, still as a watching predator, his cloak drawn around him so that he seems wrapped in shadow. <br><br> Finally he says, his voice very toneless: "That confirms it, then. The camp we saw was one of ours." After a moment, he adds, "It is nothing we didn't expect." <br><br> Trouble sighs and runs a gloved hand over his face. "I'd hoped we'd find them alive," he mutters. <br><br> "Hope is typically a luxury we can't afford," Blade tells him, matter-of-fact but not unkindly. <<if $blade gte 65>> Then, very awkwardly, he raises a hand and places it on his friend's shoulder before turning away. <<else>> Then he turns away. <</if>> <<else>> Then Blade turns away. <</if>><</nobr>> "We should get a move on. Whatever caused those officers to break ranks, it left no prints or evidence of its own existence. I find that unnerving. They likely weren't able to sense its approach—not until it was too late." He frowns. "So if there isn't anything else to find in this area, we should press on and get to Wallmire as soon as possible." "Yeah, I've got a creepy feeling," Chase says. "And I <i>never</i> get those. We should away." <<nobr>><<if $kaidir is true>> <br><br> "Wait," Red begins. "I feel like we can glean more information from this medallion. <<if $specialization is "diviner">> <<c firstname>> is a Diviner, we could use it as a focus to…" <<elseif $psionic gte 60>> <<c firstname>> could probably divine something from it, or I could give it a shot, though I'm wretched at it…" <<else>> Maybe it can tell us something more about what happened here…" <</if>> <br><br> "Later," Blade cuts in, and now you notice how his hand has fallen to his sword, his eyes roving over the glade—which is beginning to fill with wisps of white mist—in a wary, urgent manner. "It's not safe here, not after what we just found. When we get to shelter and a defensible position, we can look at it more closely." <br><br> Trouble unshoulders his rifle, and you suddenly feel a prickle of anxiety in your gut. <</if>><</nobr>> When the Commander of the Shepherds says to move, you move. <<include "day1">>

<<nobr>><<if settings.music is true>><<audio ":playing" fadeout>><<audio "wind" volume 0 loop fadeoverto 30 0.1>><<audio "rain" volume 0 loop fadeoverto 45 0.1>><</if>><</nobr>>The light vanishes almost entirely after that, plunging you into a never-ending morass of dim gloom, green-gray water, and cold fingers of fog. Your group hurries through the undergrowth, skirting the deepest stretches of water and taking circuitous detours that make your head spin: it's hard to tell which direction you're going when the trees and vines overhead are so thick that they block out the sun completely, leading you to feel like you're a mouse caught in some strange, thorny domed trap. You think day must shift to night, but it happens so gradually—and your eyes are already so adjusted to the darkness—that you can barely tell. At some point, it begins to rain. And then it doesn't stop.<<nobr>><<if $specialization is "elementalist" or $astral gte 70>> <br><br> You offer to send the rain away, though it will be difficult when you can't see the sky; generally, dissipating weather is extremely complicated, a delicate unraveling and unweaving of nature's most complex tapestry if you want the storm to wind down entirely, a different ordeal altogether if you simply want to push it somewhere else (a more straightforward task, but one with wider effects if you shove it towards the wrong place without understanding the weather systems already in effect). Blade declines the offer, though: "You need to save your strength. I'd rather have you fresh and ready in case of attack, rather than concentrating on unknitting the weather just to keep us dry." He's already begun to pick up Mage terminology from conversations you've had with Red, Ayla, and Briony, among others. <<if $bladeromanceflag gte 20 or $blade gte 70>> Then he sends you a brief little smile. "Your efforts are appreciated, though." <</if>> <br><br> Trouble, who's been wrapping up his rifle against the wet, mutters something under his breath about how he can never let things be easy. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "day1ii">><</link>></center> <<else>> Red heaves a heavy sigh as you continue your breakneck speed—almost a full-out run, set at a punishing pace that only Blade's Ket-strength effortlessly meets—through the wind and the wet. "Of course," he mutters. "Couldn't have just been murder, madness, and monsters—had to throw in horrible weather while they were at it, too." <br><br> <<include "day1ii">> <</if>><</nobr>>

The rain pours on and on, sometimes in miserable, steady drips, other times in pounding waves that lash painfully against your face and drive blinding water into your eyes. Slimy fronds and sodden vines keep brushing your cheek in the dark, making every other step a practice in holding back a scream. <<nobr>><<if $bloodmorph is true>> <<if $troubleromanceflag gte 20 and $highestromance is "trouble">> At some point, Trouble draws up to you and touches your elbow. He always runs a few degrees hotter than the average person, so his touch is like a firebrand on your arm, even through his gloves and the chill and the rain. "Hey," he says softly. "You good?" <br><br> You glance at him questioningly, and he tilts his head towards your wrist, where the bloodmorph touched you. His expression, however, isn't full of its usual genial openness; his brows are drawn down, and he looks… you can't tell, exactly. Tense. Annoyed, maybe. <br><br> <<if $health lt 90>> You cradle your arm protectively to yourself, thrown off by his unusual intense posture. "I'm fine." <<else>> You tilt your head; your injuries from that encounter have already faded. "I'm fine." <</if>> <br><br> Trouble chews on that for a moment, running alongside you in the rain. Then he heaves a sigh. "Scared the shit out of me, you know?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Sorry?"' 'sorr7y'>><<settrouble -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Poke him teasingly. "Didn\'t act like it at the time."' 'poke7him'>><<setcharisma +1>><<settrouble +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Well, I\'m fine now. Don\'t let it distract you from the mission."' 'well7im'>><<setloyal +5>><</link>></li> </ul> <<elseif $highestromance is "red" and $redromanceflag gte 20>> At some point, Red steps up to you and brushes his hand against yours. "Hey," he says softly, keeping his voice low under the patter of the rain. "How are you holding up?" <br><br> He's talking about your injury, you can tell; he's been extra mindful of you ever since your encounter, passing you canteens of water to drink from, ensuring that the pace isn't too hard on you—even though you can tell his interference is starting to annoy Blade. You turn to him and look into his face; his concern for you is plain and undoubtedly sincere. <ul class="choices">> <li><<link 'Touch his arm. "I appreciate you looking out for me. But you know you don\'t need to worry about me, right?"' 'touch7his'>><<setred +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Draw away. "I\'m fine."' 'draw7away'>><<set $redromanceflag -= 3>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Make a joke. "What\'s that old saying? Knowledge is a candle, curiosity the flame?"' 'make7joke'>><<setred +3>><<set $redromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> </ul> <<else>> <<include "run7run">> <</if>> <<else>> <<include "run7run">> <</if>><</nobr>>

"No," Trouble says immediately, "that's not what I…" He runs a hand through his damp hair, then sighs. "Just stick close to me from here on out, would you? <<include "feel7like">>

He snorts. "Didn't think I'd be all that helpful, launching into hysterics when you needed help. But when I saw you bleeding like that, and just when I'd turned my back for a second… I damn near had a heart attack." He shakes his head, then sighs. "Just stick close to me from here on out, would you? <<include "feel7like">>

Trouble's expression doesn't change. "It won't," he says, all confidence. "But just… stick close to me from here on out, would you? <<include "feel7like">>

Feel like I've got to keep my eye on you. You always like to—touch things." <ul class="choices"> <<if $troubleequalist is true>><li><<link 'Feign indignation. "Excuse me? Whatever could you be referring to?"' 'feign7indignation'>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link 'Wink at him. "I sure do." <b>[INNUENDO]</b>' 'wink7aat'>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Roll your eyes. "Thanks, but no thanks, Dad."' 'roll7eyes'>><<setloyal -5>><<settrouble -3>><<set $troubleromanceflag -= 5>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Keep your tone light. "Vice-Commander, that isn\'t very impartial of you."' 'keep7your'>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 1>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

He shoots you a pointed, wry look. "The Equalists compound? Couldn't get you to leave anything alone." "We were investigating," you protest. "Yeah, I ain't ever seen anyone <i>investigate</i> quite so… tactile-y." "<i>That's</i> not a word." "Neither is bloodmorph—or it shouldn't be—but here we are." He bumps your shoulder with his own. "Just do me a favor and watch out for yourself, would you?" His tone softens, as does his look, for just an instant. "Lost a lot of good people in this place. Can't afford to lose you, too." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "run7run">><</link>></center>

For once, the double entendre seems to register, because a flush appears at the open collar of his shirt, creeping up his ruddy neck. He sputters. "I didn't mean like <i>that</i>," he hisses. You smirk at him, and he flushes further. "As bad as Chase, you are," he mutters, hauling his jacket up and hunching his shoulders against the rain. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "run7run">><</link>></center>

He rolls his eyes back. "Forget it, then, never mind." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "run7run">><</link>></center>

He smiles a little. "Got Blade on this mission. Means I can leave off my duties for a little bit and hand things to him. So consider it an order, yeah?" "Aye, aye, sir." <<nobr>><<if $highestromance is "trouble" and $troubleromanceflag gte 10>> He pinches your cheek fondly before moving away from you to dodge a shrub full of luminous worms. <<else>> He claps your shoulder fondly before moving away from you to dodge a shrub full of luminous worms. <</if>><</nobr>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "run7run">><</link>></center>

He smiles lightly. "I know. But it's not exactly something I can just turn off. But I'll try and stop badgering you. Just… if you need anything, you tell me, all right? Anything I can do to help—whatever it is—" He stops suddenly, then shrugs with a self-deprecating kind of smile. "I'm here for you, <<c halfname2>>," he says quietly. "Just remember that." You smile at him. "Thanks, Red." He reaches up, and the pinky of his hand just barely brushes yours, hooks against it—and then falls away. Your hand feels cold in the rainy aftermath. Red keeps walking. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "run7run">><</link>></center>

He watches you for a moment, then nods. "All right. But if you change your mind, or if you need anything, I'm here." He squeezes your shoulder once, then turns away. You feel colder in the rain than you did before. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "run7run">><</link>></center>

He snorts. "'And if you reach for it too zealously, you'll get burned?'" He smiles. "I've heard that one a lot. People tell it to me all the time." "Right," you answer wryly. "So you researching ruins is the same as me reaching for shiny objects in parasite-infested waters. You should be used to all of this by now." Red laughs; a true, honest chuckle, light and somehow heartening amidst your dreary surroundings. "True enough," he says warmly. "I can't fault you for your inquisitiveness, not without looking like a massive hypocrite. But…" And now his expression gentles, and he touches the finger of your uninjured hand, just very lightly and briefly. "But if you need anything, you tell me, all right?" He smiles again. "I'm a veteran of this kind of thing, by now. Good at reaching for candles and dressing up the burns right after. I know all of the tips and tricks." You smile back. "Thanks, I'll keep that in mind." His finger hooks against yours, squeezes once, and then falls away, leaving your hand feeling cold in the rainy aftermath. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "run7run">><</link>></center>

You run on and on. Your surroundings begin to blur into a maddening, dreary smear; the trees and half-fallen, rotting logs all begin to look identical, and you could swear you've passed the same quagmires and soupy heaps of mud at least twice before. But Blade continues to move in an unswerving, darting kind of charge, his arma and Ket physique allowing him to push for hours at a tireless sprint. Chase manages to keep up, his lithe body angled in a fluid, loping, long-legged kind of run. Trouble, not much of a long-distance runner, gamely presses on, but he curses and falls behind more frequently than the rest, needing to stop for more and more breaks. Red's long legs and stride give him an advantage at first, but after a while, he too begins to show the effects of exhaustion and strain, at times stumbling and narrowly avoiding running headlong into trees. You don't encounter much aside from the ceaseless damp and mud, but that monotony in itself is its own obstacle. Weariness and boredom—and then a growing, gnawing irritation—begin to set in. Mosquitoes, heedless of the rain, flash in little black dots at the corners of your vision. Eerie croaking sounds and the rustling of the wind through the gnarled branches periodically startle you from any mindless peace you might sink into. But if there's anything out there, stalking you or watching you, or waiting to chase you out from cover the way it might have with the other squads… you never see it. For all you know, there is nothing out there but shadow and swamp, and your group is entirely, utterly alone. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Day 1 or 2</span></div></div>' "time7i">><</link>></center>

Time begins to lose much of its meaning. You only know the rain and the running. Conversation ebbs and flows around you, sometimes barely discernible over the sounds of the never-ending storm. Blade calls a halt under a wide, rocky overhang—one of the few solid formations that you've seen in the Bleakmoor so far. He says, "It's been about four hours since our last break. We should rest for the night, eat. Two of us will stand guard while the other three sleep, rotating in shifts." "Four <i>hours</i>?" Trouble exclaims in a strangled, outraged whisper. "God's teeth, it's felt like four <i>days</i>. How can you even tell, without the moons or sun?" "My internal sense of time is impeccable," Blade returns stiffly, using a somewhat prim, over-formal tone that can bring to mind a miffed, austere old woman. "And I've been checking my timepiece to be sure." Trouble only grunts, unimpressed, before sitting down and hauling off his sodden boots. "I've got blisters for <i>miles</i>," he says with a grimace. "Were you really running around like this when you took <<c firstname>> and Chase with you to the Reach?" "We were on ahfuri," you answer dryly. "And even then, I don't think the pace was quite this punishing." "We weren't in enemy territory, then," Blade returns, the slightly miffed tone increasing. Then silence falls while you turn to unloading your packs and squeezing your bedrolls in as close a formation as possible, to take advantage of the dry space underneath the overhang. You and Red use your magic to make a small bloom of warmth, dry your clothes, and create a small, rain-proof boundary along the camp; although Blade is cautious about lighting a fire, he at least doesn't complain about this. <<nobr>><<if $kaidir is true and $bloodmorph is false>> <<include "examinemedallion">> <<else>> Eventually you settle in for the night, and your head hardly hits your pillow before you fall fast asleep. <br><br> <<include "day2">> <</if>><</nobr>>

When all have been settled for the night and you've feasted on a dinner of cold, salted meats and bread—already turning a bit spongy from all of the damp—Red turns to you and shuffles closer, his broad shoulder bumping against yours. "Let's have a look at that medallion again?" You draw it out, and the two of you pore over it for a while, looking for any other details that could illuminate the fate of its owner. But whatever clues there might have been, the waters of the Bleakmoor have wiped them clean away. <<nobr>><<if ($specialization is "diviner" and $psionic gte 40) or $psionic gt 60>> Red glances at you. "Think you could use this as a focus to divine something?" <br><br> You pause, staring down at the medallion, so similar to your own—thin, bright gold stamped with the emblem of the Shepherds, the sun shining within the moon on one side, the rampant wolf rising on its sword and shield on the other. Divining is a lengthy, vulnerable process, if you can use it to gleam anything at all; you fall into a kind of trance while doing it, meaning you'll have to rely on your teammates to protect you while you're in the throes of whatever vision you can snag from the object. <br><br> More importantly, the mind can have a hard time differentiating between reality and vivid divination. If using the medallion as a focus causes you to have a vision of something traumatic—since those are the energies that seem to linger around objects the longest—like its owner's untimely death, you don't know how it will affect you. Many Sages aren't able to keep their stomachs down when experiencing death or violence in such a manner. Others may bear mental scars from reliving someone's demise so viscerally that their minds can't reconcile their own aliveness. <br><br> Red seems to belatedly realize this risk, because he touches your shoulder. "You don't have to do it if you don't want to," he says firmly. "Divination's a fickle thing—you may not even learn anything that useful, just little flashes or scents or details. It's probably not even worth the risk." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Put the medallion away. "You\'re right. We won\'t learn anything we don\'t already know."' 'put7the'>><<fair_plus "$courage" -10>><<fair_plus "$cunning" +10>><<setred -3>><<set $redromanceflag -= 5>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Shake your head. "I have to do it. If we can understand what happened to them, we\'ll be all the more equipped to handle this mission."' 'divinedyatlov'>><<setred +3>><<setintelligence +1>><<setcunning +1>><<if $redromanceflag gte 20>><<set $redromanceflag +=1>><<set $swampclue += 1>><<set $faris to true>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Grit your teeth. "I have to know what happened to them. We owe it to them to try."' 'divinedyatlov'>><<setcourage +3>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setloyal +1>><<setred +3>><<if $redromanceflag gte 20>><<set $redromanceflag += 1>><</if>><<set $swampclue += 1>><<set $faris to true>><</link>></li> </ul> <<else>> <<include "day2">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Red sighs, as if he knows you're right. Then, after a moment, he says, "Well, let me try it. My worst marks were in Divination, but I'd like to do something." You look at him. "Are you sure?" He nods, so you hand over the medallion again, waiting in anticipation as you feel magic gathering around him like a cloud of static. Even the others notice it; Chase, who has been conversing softly with Trouble, goes still, and Blade looks sharply over like a hound who's caught an errant scent. Red's brow knits as he concentrates, folding his large hand over the medallion, his thumb rubbing along its grooves… But the magic never deepens into the true Divining trance. Red blinks rapidly, headachy heat moving the air around his face, but after a moment, he relaxes his hold on it and mutters, "I only got a flash of something, sort of like the way you see lightning deep inside a storm cloud from far away. A man with dark hair, young-ish seeming. That was it." "Kaidir, the Captain of Wymer squad, had dark hair," Trouble says. "Could it have been him?" Red frowns, then shakes his head. "I'm sorry. I couldn't say." For a moment, none of you say anything, and it's hard not to let your shoulders slump in discouragement as the rain drives on relentlessly all around you. But Blade says reluctantly, "Thank you for trying," and Red smiles wearily, and you tuck the medallion away, and somehow the air within the camp lifts a little. It's almost as if you're all glad not to think about it anymore. <<include "day2">>

<<nobr>><<if settings.music is true>><<audio ":playing" mute>><</if>><</nobr>>He nods solemnly, then sits back to give you room as you close your eyes, bringing your hands to hover over the medallion like you're warming them over a campfire. You pull and gather threads of magic around you like you're shaping a cloud from cotton; energy begins to thrum around you, invisible heat shifting the air slightly around your face, and gradually, you hear the ambient sounds of the camp and its conversations begin to drop away—though whether that's an effect of the spell or the others simply noticing what you're doing, you can't say for sure. Even the sound of the rain begins to hush and wisp down into nothing. You send out tendrils of your cottony magic to wrap around the medallion, cradling it with awareness, which gradually brightens and illuminates it the way a spark in the center of a pile of straw begins to grow and kindle. Slowly, the cottony formation becomes something like a hazy storm cloud, and within the storm cloud you see dim flashes of memory, lightning-like and far away, but growing rapidly in intensity. <i>Faris. Your name is Faris. </i> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "divinedyatlovi">><</link>></center>

<i>You have to piss. </i> <i>That's the first and only thing that registers in your mind as you stagger off into the dark. You don't go far—God, you're not stupid enough to get lost in this hellhole, especially not with this damned fog hemming you in from all sides—but the squad never bothered to dig a latrine, and the last time Sabine caught you relieving yourself too close to her tent, she'd woken up the captain with her outraged shrieking and you'd caught Hael for days.</i> <i>So you stumble a respectful distance away, blinking the sleep out of your eyes and mindful not to plunge into the pools of water, which are hidden under blankets of fog and deceitful underbrush. You do your business. Your medallion hangs heavy on your chest. When you first joined up as an officer, you had trouble sleeping with it on—the weight of it was foreign to you, like your neck was being anchored down—but now you feel naked without it. You even keep it on when you sleep at home in the compound. Your last lover complained of how it kept smacking him in the eye.</i> <i>Then you stagger back to camp, taking in the silence, the stillness of the night.</i> <i>Wait.</i> <i>You stop.</i> <i>Silence. And that's—that's strange, isn't it, because Einar always has that annoying, whistling snore, the one that always drives Jira up the wall. But he's not snoring. The little huddle of tents is totally quiet, their shapes like dark, alien lumps in the fog. </i> <i>Confused, but not yet alarmed, you quicken your pace until you're closer, wondering if perhaps the strange echo of the swamp is simply muffling the sounds you should be hearing, making them bounce away from you in bizarre ways. </i> <i>And then you see—you see things you don't quite understand.</i> <i>Everyone is <b>gone</b>. The camp is abandoned, two of the tents half-crumpled and in total disarray. One of them has a hole cut through the canvas—but from the inside, the knife abandoned on the ground a few feet away. Who was in that one? The captain? You can't remember. Your heart is thrumming. Jira's shoes are still inside her fucking tent, tucked neatly together with the laces done up the way she likes. Most of the tents still have their packs, all their supplies. It looks like even most of the weapons got left behind.</i> <i>They… they all fucking left you? And in silence? Why? You're a pretty heavy sleeper, but surely you would have heard—it looks like they fucking <b><i>bolted</i></b>, ran off and left all the gear in a panic. Why didn't anyone wake you up?</i> <i>You're not alone in the Bleakmoor Marsh, are you?</i> God, please, God, please don't let me be alone. <i>"Faris?"</i> <i>Something in your chest loosens. Captain Kaidir! You can't see him in the fog, but he's not far off judging by the sound of his voice—ten feet, maybe, or twenty. He sounds cautious, as if unsure if you're really there. "Captain," you whisper. "Where the Hael is everybody?"</i> <i>"We had to relocate to the South," he replies. "Sabine's been hurt."</i> <i>You swallow. Sabine's the most ferocious fighter of you all; how did that happen? <i>"We need to get back," Captain Kaidir says softly. For some reason, he's speaking very quietly. "Rejoin the others."</i> <i>You nod, striving for professionalism; you can't let your concern for your teammate override the mission. "Let me just get my gun…"</i> <i>"Leave it," Kaidir says. "It's not safe here."</i> <i>Somewhere to the left of you, something laughs. </i> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "divinedyatlovii">><</link>></center>

"—It's all right, <<c firstname>>, you're back with us, you're in the present. Just take a deep breath. That's right, now another…" "Is this normal? I've never seen $them like this." "Reactions to Divinations are always different. The more unpleasant the vision, the more unpleasant the reaction." Warm, familiar hands grip your shoulders, grounding you with their presence. You blink away the cotton—the fog of that terrible night—and come back into yourself, letting the pitter-patter of the rain and the low, soothing voices around you carry you back into your own body. For a moment, your spirit and mind rebel, feeling caged by your own flesh after spending even that brief time in Faris's. Faris, Faris… the medallion in your hand feels inextricably like his, now; like you have no right to touch it. "I'm all right," you mutter after a moment, blinking hard, the way someone does after looking at the sun for too long. Your heart is still clamoring in your chest, and your body is chilled with sweat, but otherwise, the effects of the vision are already fading. Still, you have to unclench your jaw, feeling corpse-like, to tell the others about what you saw. All you earn is stunned silence. "I didn't know Faris," Trouble admits, "but if you saw Captain Kaidir…" "Not saw," you correct him. "I only heard him. But it was him; Faris knew it was him, the same way he knew the tents were Jira's or Einar's." "That was Wymer Squad, then," Blade says grimly. "The first team we sent in. Did you get a sense of how long they'd been there?" You close your eyes, trying to reach for the knowledge, but already that other life is slipping away from you like a dream. "No, I didn't catch that." Chase sits forward, poking at the edge of the medallion like it might bite him. "So this belonged to Faris? He must have dropped it that night, or shortly after." "Maybe," Red says, sucking his teeth. "Divinations are… flighty, you don't get to choose what place in the timeline they stick you into. Faris could have lost his medallion days after this event. But you're right: if their camp is the same one that you and Blade found, and the medallion was found by <<c firstname>> not too far away from that, he couldn't have lost it too long after that vision." "I'm concerned about whatever drove the team to abandon the camp so hastily," Blade murmurs. "That they didn't even stop to retrieve their weapons is… alarming." Trouble shakes his head, digs into his pocket for a stick of charch, then seems to rethink lighting it, only clamping it between his teeth to chew on as stress relief after a moment. "What the fuck makes a whole team just take off into the night, without even wearing shoes, or cutting clean through their own tents, and not even stop to rouse their teammate?" he asks. No one knows the answer to that, and your heart feels sick with the not knowing. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I could try again..."' 'i7could'>><<setcourage +1>><<setblade +1>><<settrouble +1>><<setred +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"And what was that laugh?"' 'and7what'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I don\'t want to think about this anymore."' 'i7this'>><<setcourage -3>><<setloyal -5>><<if $troubleromanceflag gte 5>><<set $troubleromanceflag -= 1>><</if>><</link>></li> </ul>

"No," Blade cuts in instantly. "You probably won't learn much else, and we can't afford to have you burning too much of your energy. Maybe another time, if we run into dead ends. But for now, you need to rest." <<nobr>><<if $blade gte 65 and $cunning gte 45>> <br><br> You see the truth in his assessing glance at all the wan faces in your camp, though; hearing about this vision has not been good for team morale. That's quite enough nightmares for tonight. <</if>><</nobr>> Chase ruffles your hair gently, then takes the medallion from you and tucks it for safekeeping in your pack. "You did good, $nickname," he says softly. "You've done enough; you've got to sleep, now. I'll take first watch." <<include "you7turn">>

"An Endarkened, maybe?" Chase proposes. "Whatever threat has been terrorizing that village, Wallmire?" "We can't say for sure," Blade says decisively. "But we've learned valuable information tonight, thanks to <<c firstname>>. Now it's time to rest. We need to conserve our energy and prepare for anything." He doesn't say it, but you read it in his sentence: <i>Including whatever thing came for Wymer Squad in the night. </i> Red pats your shoulder, then gently extracts the medallion from your hands, tucking it away for safekeeping in your pack. "Get some sleep, <<c halfname2>>," he says kindly. "You've done enough for tonight. I'll take first watch." <<include "you7turn">>

"Then let's not," Red says quickly, gripping your shoulder. "You've done enough for tonight, and we're not going to learn anymore just by speculating. You should get some rest." Blade frowns, but after a moment, he inclines his head in agreement. "Investigating is one thing, but if we keep ourselves up worrying and questioning things we can't know, we become inefficient," he concedes. "So let's turn in for the night. <<c firstname>> needs to recover energy, and we need to be prepared for anything." He doesn't say it, but you read it in his sentence: <i>Including whatever thing came for Wymer Squad in the night. </i> Trouble claps you familiarly on the shoulder, then gently extracts the medallion from your hands, stowing it in your pack for safekeeping. "You get some shuteye, <<c halfname>>," he says, gruff and kind. "You earned it. I'll take first watch." <<include "you7turn">>

You turn on your side after that, wedging yourself between the cold, lumpy wall of the overhang and <<nobr>><<if $aro is true or $aroace is true>> <<if ($red gt $trouble and $red gt $chase) and $red gt $blade>> Red's <<elseif ($blade gt $trouble and $blade gt $chase) and $blade gt $red>> Blade's <<elseif ($chase gt $trouble and $chase gt $blade) and $chase gt $red>> Chase's <<else>> Trouble's <</if>> <<else>> <<if ($redromanceflag gt $troubleromanceflag and $redromanceflag gt $chaseromanceflag) and $redromanceflag gt $bladeromanceflag>> Red's <<elseif ($bladeromanceflag gt $troubleromanceflag and $bladeromanceflag gt $chaseromanceflag) and $bladeromanceflag gt $redromanceflag>> Blade's <<elseif ($chaseromanceflag gt $troubleromanceflag and $chaseromanceflag gt $bladeromanceflag) and $chaseromanceflag gt $redromanceflag>> Chase's <<else>> Trouble's <</if>> <</if>><</nobr>> bedroll, but even with the press of warm bodies and deep, familiar voices surrounding you, it takes you a long time to be able to fall asleep. <<include "day2">>

More running. More rain. It never lets up. Chase predictably takes on the role of keeping team spirit and morale high by making a continual stream of conversation to break up the monotony of the endless swamp. At first it's light discussion, some harmless gossip from back home, then deliberately stupid observations designed to startle a laugh out of Trouble or make Red groan or roll his eyes—but it largely works. The hours pass a bit quicker when you have the sounds of his voice to focus on rather than wondering if that strangely-shaped tree you passed by was the same one from hours ago, or fearing that you've permanently lost sight of the sun. Then the topics move on to relentlessly shameless probing. "Trubs, it's your turn." "Yeah. Question." "All right. Why'd you pick white gloves? Feels pretty inconvenient, wearing white gloves all the time. You're always handling gunpowder, oil, that kind of thing. Wouldn't you rather wear black?" "That isn't fair in the least," Red interjects. "You asked me and <<c firstname>> <i>far</i> more personal questions—" "That's because Trouble doesn't have any sense of shame; you can ask him over breakfast if he's ever had any gambling debt and he'll just tell you. I've already gotten all his secrets out of him. Now I'm just asking the normal stuff." "You—" "I don't like to wear black," Trouble says then. "That's more Blade's thing—I think it's too sober. Like a vulture at a funeral." Blade, who has largely been ignoring this talk, chimes in suddenly with a flat: "At least I don't dress like a cowboy who put on his clothes in the dark." Trouble rounds on him, gaping in mock (or real) outrage. "You <i>muti</i>. I'll <i>kill</i> you." "That's treason, Vice-Commander." "Kakhead. <i>Spitha</i>." "I don't believe you," Chase interrupts smoothly, "not entirely, anyway. There had to be some specific reason you chose white, right? It's not something a kid from the Ashtown slums usually chooses to wear." There's a long pause, filled only by the unpleasant sounds of boots squelching through the mud, before Trouble says reluctantly, "When I was a teenager, I saw this guy walking through the Market Quarter, dressed real sharp-like. He had this real sense of flair, you know? Crisp black suit, hair slicked back. He looked <i>good.</i> His clothes looked rich, and he had a way of carrying himself that was real purposeful, real confident. I kept looking at him because I'd never seen anyone move quite like that before. I always told myself that when I grew up—when I made it, when I could afford it—I'd dress a little like him." "And he had white gloves on, of course," you finish. He smiles grimly. "Yeah." "Was he an aristocrat, then?" Red asks, curious. Another silence. "I thought so," Trouble says, sounding vaguely abashed, "or some kind of important businessman, that sort of thing. But once I grew up and knew better, I actually figured out—that he was a butler." Chase lets out a bark of real, surprised laughter. "You're <i>shitting</i> me." The grin grows crooked. "I ain't." Red smiles, shaking his head ruefully. "Oh, Trouble. Guess I should have known—only manservants wear white gloves." "Well, how was I supposed to know that?" the sniper protests. "And by the time I figured it out, it was too late! I was already entrenched!" You chuckle over this for a while before inevitably, Chase's attention returns to Blade, who frowns as if he knew this was coming. "All right, Spike," the thief begins in a friendly, chummy way, not even bothering to give Blade the opportunity to choose between a question or a command, as per the game rules— "I heard from a trustworthy Ket lass that your people's version of dirty talk—" "No." "—varies pretty differently from what we think of it—" "No." "—she said it's not like, 'Choke me and call me a slattern,' it's saying things like, 'You're a fucking coward, huh? You're not even putting up a fight. That's because you have no <i>honor</i>. You probably didn't even fulfill your mandatory military service, you filthy little… <i>traitor</i>!'" Trouble erupts into a howl of helpless laughter, and Red chokes out, "<i>Chase</i>!" in equally scandalized, barely restrained cackling tones. Blade merely looks deeply, severely disgruntled, water dripping from his hood down into his rain-flattened hair as he stares off into the gray distance with a long-suffering expression. He looks like he's wondering why the gods cursed him with this particular existence, and what exactly he did to deserve it. <<include "questionorcommand">>

<ul class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("take7pity")>><li><<link 'Take pity on him. "I want to do my turn now, Chase."' 'take7pity'>><<setblade +3>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 20>><<set $bladeromanceflag += 1>><</if>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("press7ahim")>><li><<link 'Press him. "Well? Answer the question, Commander. <i>Is </i> that the Ket version of dirty talk?"' 'press7ahim'>><<setchase +3>><<setcharisma +1>><<if $chaseromanceflag gte 20>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("thats7enough")>><li><<link 'Nudge Chase. "I think that\'s enough with the games for now. Let\'s talk about something else."' 'thats7enough'>><<setloyal +5>><<setchase -3>><<setblade +1>><<if $charisma lt 50>><<setchase -3>><</if>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link 'Watch the exchange in silence.' 'watch7the'>><<setloyal -7>><<setcharisma -3>><</link>></li> </ul>

Chase's head rotates towards you like an owl's; he smiles, sly, like he knows exactly what you're doing—but he decides to allow it. "All right, $nickname," he says, with a tone of great largesse. "Question or command?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Question."' 'question'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Command."' 'com7mand'>><</link>></li> </ul>

He grins. "All right," Chase begins cheerfully. "You're stranded on a deserted island indefinitely, with no hope of rescue in sight. But you get to pick one companion to be with you during your exile. Who do you choose? Shepherds only." Red makes a thoughtful humming sound, while Trouble says bluntly, "Don't pick me; I can't swim." <<nobr>><<if $trouble lte 70>> (From the sidelong look he cuts you, though, he sort of seems like he wants you to pick him.) <</if>><</nobr>> Even Blade looks vaguely intrigued, although he pretends not to be listening. <<include "island">>

<ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I\'d pick you, Chase."' 'pick7chase'>><<setchase +3>><<if $chaseromanceflag gte 20>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <<if $bladehate is false>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I\'d pick Blade."</div>' 'pick7blade'>><<setblade +1>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 30>><<set $bladeromanceflag += 1>><<setblade +1>><</if>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">"I\'d pick Blade."</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $troublehate is false>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I\'d pick Trouble."</div>' 'pick7trouble'>><<settrouble +3>><<if $troubleromanceflag gte 30>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">"I\'d pick Trouble."</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link '"I\'d pick Red."' 'pick7red'>><<set $redromanceflag += 3>><<if $redromanceflag gte 20>><<set $redromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'d pick Tallys."' 'pick7tallys'>><<settallys +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'d pick Shery."' 'pick7shery'>><<setshery +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'d pick Riel."' 'pick7riel'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'d pick Ayla."' 'pick7ayla'>><<setayla +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'d pick Halek."' 'pick7halek'>><<sethalek +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'d pick Briony."' 'pick7briony'>><<setbriony +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'d pick Lavinet."' 'pick7lavinet'>><<setlavinet +3>><</link>></li> <<if not hasVisited("cani7pick")>><li><<link '"Can I pick no one? I wouldn\'t want anyone else to suffer if I\'m the only one who has to be stuck on the island."' 'cani7pick'>><<setcompassionate +5>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("can7pick")>><li><<link '"Can I pick no one? I don\'t think I\'d be able to stand being on an island with any of you for that long."' 'can7pick'>><<setcompassionate -8>><<setcharisma -3>><</link>></li><</if>> </ul>

"Ah, your wisdom knows no bounds," the thief says smugly. "I'm the total package, $nickname—I've got the survival skills, seafaring know-how, <i>and</i> I'm easy on the eyes. Smart choice." "You could have picked <i>anybody</i>," Red laments. "But you just had to inflate his ego…" Blade grunts in agreement. "You'll get picked sometime, Liefred," Chase returns with mock-pity. "Hey, maybe you could help <<c firstname>> build a raft out of books! That would definitely help!" "You know I have <i>teleportation magic</i>, right? As in, I could translocate the both of us off of that island in a heartbeat?" "My, I can't tell if the water level is rising because of the rain, or if it's your tears…" They continue to bicker good-naturedly as you run on, your spirits just a bit lighter from the brief moment of distraction. It won't last, but you can enjoy the levity while you have it, like a ray of sunlight peeking through the curtain of rain. <<include "day2or3">>

<<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 30>> "Of course you'd pick him," Chase says, rolling his eyes. Blade tosses him a threatening glower. "Shouldn't have even bothered asking. You'd die of boredom, though. He won't even play games with you. As we can all see." <<else>> "What, <i>him</i>?" Chase asks incredulously, ignoring Blade's unimpressed glower. "<i>Why</i>? He's so… depressing. I think I'd die of boredom if I was stuck on an island with him. He won't even play games with you." <</if>><</nobr>> "If we're on an island, games are the least of our concerns," Blade comments stiffly. "I'd be capable at providing shelter. Food." "People probably need more than that to avoid going stir-crazy on an island," Red points out helpfully. Blade scowls at him. "Can you even swim?" Chase asks, eyeing him doubtfully. Blade looks offended by the question. "Of course I can. It was part of my training." "Of course it was. Let me guess: you had to sit under a waterfall and learn the discipline to hold your breath through fear of drowning, yada yada." Chase shakes his head at this predictable response. "Honestly, though, I can't picture you swimming. All that goes through my head is this great big drowned blackbird, looking very wet and dour while it splashes around." "You're just distracting yourself," Blade says, with great dignity, "because you're annoyed that <<c surname>> didn't pick <i>you</i>." "Oh <i>ho</i>, the blackbird's got some bite! Look at you preen, you puffed-up scoundrel! I didn't know our commander was capable of being flattered, but look at you, you're practically <i>blushing</i>!" Blade quickly clams up under this new salvo of mockery and ammunition, and your group runs on, bickering good-naturedly. It won't last, but you can enjoy the levity while you have it, like a ray of sunlight just peeking through the curtain of rain. <<include "day2or3">>

<<nobr>><<if $troubleromanceflag gte 30>> The sharpshooter grins, looking pleased, and Chase eyes you knowingly. "Yeah, of course you would," he drones. "You two are completely attached at the hip." <br><br> "And so what?" Trouble returns with a hint of defiance. "We make a good team. And we'd <i>kill</i> an island together." <<elseif $trouble gte 70>> The sharpshooter grins, looking pleased, and Chase rolls his eyes. "Of course you would," he says. "You two always pick each other." <br><br> "No, we don't," Trouble says, a tad indignantly. "And anyway, why <i>shouldn't</i> $halfname choose me? We'd kill an island together." <<else>> Chase eyes you skeptically. "You sure about that? I don't know if he's the wisest person to choose…" <br><br> "Hey," Trouble objects, jutting his chin out. "Fuck you. And also, why shouldn't <<c firstname>> pick me? We'd kill an island together." <</if>><</nobr>> "More like the island would kill <i>you</i>, Trubs. Like you said, you can't swim; and I highly doubt your sniper rifle's going to come in handy on an island." "Oh, yeah? And why would you be all that useful, thief? Gonna steal shit from the crabs?"<<nobr>><<if $troubleromanceflag gte 20>> <br><br> "No need to get so defensive, pal! If you want to cozy up to $halfname on a deserted island and have $her all to yourself, be my guest…" <br><br> "Wh—$she picked <i>me</i>…" <br><br> "Yeah… exactly." <br><br> "What are you on about?" <</if>><</nobr>> They continue to bicker good-naturedly as you run on, your spirits just a bit lighter from the brief moment of distraction. It won't last, but you can enjoy the levity while you have it, like a ray of sunlight peeking through the curtain of rain. <<include "day2or3">>

Red beams. "Aw, thanks, <<c halfname>>. For what it's worth, I'd pick you, too." <<nobr>><<if $redromanceflag gte 20>> "<<c firstname>> is only picking you because you're good-looking," Chase shoots back drolly. At your surprised noise, he looks around and then grins wickedly. "Come on, we're all thinking it. You're telling me you've got your pick between people like Blade, or Tallys, or Ayla, survivalists and wilderness guides galore, and you're going to go with the guy who forgets to eat dinner because he was too busy sorting out mathematical theories in his head?" <br><br> "Theorems," Red begins. <br><br> "Yeah, see?" <<else>> Chase casts you a sidelong, doubtful look. "I don't buy it," he says. "You're telling me you've got your pick between people like Blade, or Tallys, or Ayla, survivalists and wilderness guides galore, and you're going to go with the guy who forgets to eat dinner because he was too busy sorting out mathematical theories in his head?" <br><br> "Theorems," Red begins. <br><br> "Yeah, see?" <</if>><</nobr>> "You do realize Red can teleport, right?" Trouble interjects then. "Hael, I'd pick him, too. He can translocate us off the island in five minutes." "Doesn't count," Chase says instantly. "I said no hope of rescue, stuck on the island indefinitely. Being able to translocate means there's hope of rescue, which cancels itself out." "Well, I can't imagine a scenario where I couldn't pop us back home," Red says. "I can, easy. You hit your head and have amnesia, and you don't remember how to do it. You got your leg caught in a bear trap and had to cut it off and now you keep fainting from the pain. You were dosed with a mysterious pollen that turns you into an idiot. I could go on." "Wait, so if I pick Red, I get punished by getting some altered version of him?" you ask, knowing full well you're adding fuel to the fire. "Yeah, that's a bit shit," Trouble says. "You're pretty determined to make me an unappealing option, Chase," Red adds good-humoredly. "Sorry, Leaf, I don't make the rules." "…But you do…" "You realize this is an imaginary scenario, don't you?" Blade butts in irritably. "<<c firstname>> already made $her choice: what is there to debate further?" "Well, Blade, the whole translocation thing's got to be sorted, or else <i>everyone's</i> going to pick Red, and that defeats the purpose of the game. Wouldn't even <i>you</i> pick him, under the current terms?" "Don't involve me." "No, you spoke up; you're involved." You run on; Red tosses you a knowing smile and a wink as they continue to bicker good-naturedly, your spirits just a bit lighter from the brief moment of distraction. It won't last, but you can enjoy the levity while you have it, like a ray of sunlight just peeking through the curtain of rain. <<include "day2or3">>

"Hmm, makes sense," Chase muses. "She's a survivalist with lots of knowledge about how to make it in the wild. Stays calm and composed under fire. I daresay I'd do the same." <<nobr>><<if $tallyssex is true>> <br><br> "Uh, are we going to ignore the obvious reason why <<c halfname>> would pick Tallys?" Trouble interjects then. <br><br> Chase cuts a look at Blade, who doesn't seem to be particularly interested in the conversation, and waggles his eyebrows at you. "No idea what you're talking about, Trubs." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "runonchase">>

Then he turns to Trouble. "Now you." The sniper stiffens. "What! It's <<c halfname>>'s question, not mine." "Well, I'm making it yours: who would you pick for a deserted island?" "You can't just do that!" "Why're you so reluctant to say? Sore subject, or something?" "No!" They continue to bicker good-naturedly as you run on, your spirits just a bit lighter from the brief moment of distraction. It won't last, but you can enjoy the levity while you have it, like a ray of sunlight peeking through the curtain of rain. <<include "day2or3">>

This earns several incredulous looks, even from Blade, who quickly schools his expression into one of disinterest. "<i>Interesting</i>," Chase says, stroking his chin. "Now why would you go and pick someone like that?" "Shery's lovely," Red begins. "She'd be excellent company on an island." "Oh, no one's disputing that, my friend: a purer and kinder soul there never was. But she isn't exactly the first person who comes to mind when it comes to surviving on an island, is she? I don't think she'd even be able to spear a crab without feeling so sorry for it that she'd cry." <<nobr>><<if $sheryromanceflag gte 20>> Chase watches you, his smirk suddenly knowing. "Perhaps <<c firstname>> is simply aware of other reasons that we're not privy to." <<else>> Then he shrugs. "Still, it's your choice, <<c firstname>>. Your funeral, maybe, but your choice." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "runonchase">>

This earns several incredulous looks, even from Blade, who quickly schools his expression into one of disinterest. "<i>No way</i>," Chase says, sounding as dumbfounded and appalled as you've ever heard him. "Not <i>Riel</i>. There's no way!" "Riel is brilliant," Red begins. "He'd certainly be able to formulate strategies about how to get off the island." "Sure, but I've seen him refuse to pick up handkerchiefs he dropped on the street because he thinks it's cleaner just to buy new ones. He wouldn't last five minutes on an island, not without a suit and his pomade to hold him together." <<nobr>><<if $rielromanceflag gte 20>> <br><br> Chase looks at you, his smirk suddenly knowing. "Or maybe <<c firstname>>'s picking him for reasons <i>other</i> than his hardy survival skills." <<else>> Then he shrugs. "Still, it's your choice, <<c firstname>>. Your funeral, maybe, but your choice." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "runonchase">>

"Hmm, makes sense," Chase muses. "She's a survivalist with lots of knowledge about how to make it in the wild; she's served as a wilderness guide for years. She seems like the most logical choice, even if she is a bit of a spitfire." <<nobr>><<if $aylaromanceflag gte 20>> Then he leans in and lowers his voice. "Of course, you and I both know that you're not picking her <i>just</i> for her survivalist skills, are you?" Before you can answer, he winks and turns back to Trouble. "Now you." <br><br> The sniper stiffens. "What! It's <<c halfname>>'s question, not mine." <br><br> "Well, I'm making it yours: who would you pick for a deserted island?" <br><br> "You can't just do that!" <br><br> "Why're you so reluctant to say? Sore subject, or something?" <br><br> "No!" <br><br> They continue to bicker good-naturedly as you run on, your spirits just a bit lighter from the brief moment of distraction. It won't last, but you can enjoy the levity while you have it, like a ray of sunlight peeking through the curtain of rain. <br><br> <<include "day2or3">> <<else>> <<include "runonchase">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Chase swivels towards you, widening his eyes comically. "What, even after the soup incident?" "That was an <i>accident</i>, Chase," Red repeats long-sufferingly. "It's not like Halek would just keep poisoning <<c firstname>> while on the island with $them." "I dunno," Chase says doubtfully. "You'd better hope there's not witch's bane on that island." "Also," Trouble says, snickering, "you might have trouble getting him to stop napping on the beach." "Halek is a solid warrior," Blade says then, stiffly. "And a good man." You all look at him incredulously; Chase's eyes are even wider than before. "Are you defending Halek?" he crows, delighted. "What, are you offended on behalf of your friend?" "No." "You <i>are</i>!" "You are, Blade, you absolutely are," Trouble says, equally delighted. Blade quickly clams up under this new salvo of mockery and ammunition, scowling, and your group runs on, bickering good-naturedly. It won't last, but you can enjoy the levity while you have it, like a ray of sunlight just peeking through the curtain of rain. <<include "day2or3">>

"Makes sense," Chase muses. "She could, I don't know, rip up trees with her bare hands and make you a lean-to; that kind of thing. And she's quite cheery: it wouldn't be such a bad time." <<nobr>><<if $brionyromanceflag gte 15>> Then he leans in and lowers his voice. "Of course, you and I both know that you're not picking her <i>just</i> for her survivalist skills, are you?" Before you can answer, he winks and turns back to Trouble. "Now you." <br><br> The sniper stiffens. "What! It's <<c halfname>>'s question, not mine." <br><br> "Well, I'm making it yours: who would you pick for a deserted island?" <br><br> "You can't just do that!" <br><br> "Why're you so reluctant to say? Sore subject, or something?" <br><br> "No!" <br><br> They continue to bicker good-naturedly as you run on, your spirits just a bit lighter from the brief moment of distraction. It won't last, but you can enjoy the levity while you have it, like a ray of sunlight peeking through the curtain of rain. <br><br> <<include "day2or3">> <<else>> <<include "runonchase">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Trouble looks skeptical. "Really? She gets annoyed when she doesn't have enough time to brush her hair before missions; do you really think she'd hack it on a deserted island without perfume or bath oils or anything like that?" "Lavinet's made of hardier stuff than that," Red points out. "She's a Shepherd, isn't she?" "Her combat ability has proved surprising," Blade agrees tersely. <<nobr>><<if $lavinetromanceflag gte 15>> "Well, I think I know the <i>real</i> reason why <<c firstname>> would pick her," Chase says slyly, looking at you sidelong. "And it's not to do with how well she handles a saber." Before you can answer, though, he turns smugly back to Trouble. "Now you." <br><br> The sniper stiffens. "What! It's <<c halfname>>'s question, not mine." <br><br> "Well, I'm making it yours: who would you pick for a deserted island?" <br><br> "You can't just do that!" <br><br> "Why're you so reluctant to say? Sore subject, or something?" <br><br> "No!" <br><br> They continue to bicker good-naturedly as you run on, your spirits just a bit lighter from the brief moment of distraction. It won't last, but you can enjoy the levity while you have it, like a ray of sunlight peeking through the curtain of rain. <br><br> <<include "day2or3">> <<else>> "Well, it's <<c firstname>>'s choice," Chase says diplomatically. "I, for one, think Lady Lavender would be able to tough it out on an island; you just wouldn't want to get on her bad side. She did burn down her father's garden, after all." <br><br> <<include "runonchase">> <</if>><</nobr>>

"Nope," Chase says, "while that's very altruistic of you, it doesn't work that way. You've got to pick someone." <<include "island">>

"Too bad," Chase says, unrepentant. "You have to pick somebody." <<include "island">>

It's the first time anyone's picked that—in this disgusting swamp, there are a myriad of dares and commands a person could give another, none of which are at all more appealing than answering a question—but Chase proceeds with your choice as if he'd expected it all along. He points instantly to something on the ground and says, "All right. Kiss that toad." You look, stopping in your tracks as the others draw to a brief halt around you, the rain still pounding down on your hooded heads. An enormously fat, squat, bulbous brown toad hunches in a shallow puddle, glaring at you balefully from within its watery domain. Red chuckles a little—clearly not believing you would ever consider kissing that thing—and says amusedly, "It could be poisonous. Toads secrete a kind of toxic mucus on their skin when threatened." "You've just got to kiss it in a way that doesn't threaten it, then. Probably real fast. A little peck." "Eugh," Trouble says, wrinkling his nose. "They eat bugs and whatnot. Rather pay you a few dukes than put my mouth on that thing." "Don't take gold," Chase returns, implacable. "The command's got to be fulfilled; that's the rules of the game." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Kiss the toad.' 'kiss7toad'>><<setcourage +3>><<setchase +3>><<if $highestromance is "chase">><<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>><</if>><<setloyal +1>><<if $highestromance is "blade" and $bladeromanceflag gte 30>><<elseif $blade gte 70>><<elseif $specialization is "wild">><<else>><<setcourage +1>><<setintelligence -3>><<setchase +3>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Weasel your way out of it.' 'weasel7your'>><</link>></li> </ul>

You march over to the puddle with the determined air of a soldier heading off to war and stoop to pick up the toad, who remains surprisingly stolid in the face of your disturbance. Then you close your eyes, pucker up, and lean in. <<nobr>><<if $highestromance is "blade" and $bladeromanceflag gte 30>> <br><br> "Hold a moment," Blade says abruptly, causing you to freeze. "You are not kissing that toad, <<c firstname>>." <br><br> Everyone turns to look at him with wide eyes, surprised by his interruption. He scowls at Chase and says, "I'll answer your damned question." <br><br> "Aw," Chase coos. "Trying to save your sweetheart from taking a bullet for you? You're too late, Commander." And, with the slow, imperious gesture of some kind of theater villain in a play, he indicates for you to continue leaning towards your doom. The toad regards you with bulging, outraged eyes. <br><br> Blade makes a soft hissing noise of frustration. "I don't have any personal experience in the matter," he spits at Chase, "but there is possibly <i>some</i> truth in what you heard. About—<i>that</i> kind of talk. For only <i>some</i> people. We don't tend to use gendered insults. There are other ways to slight each other, or incite… offense." And he delivers a glare towards Chase almost as baleful as the toad's. <br><br> Trouble and Red break out in a fit of giggles like a pair of schoolboys. Chase looks terribly, dangerously smug, and he indicates that you should lower your toad with an air of grand largesse. "Ahh," he says, grinning. "Now, was that so hard?" <br><br> Blade won't look at anyone, especially not you. He mutters an invective under his breath that a commander doesn't usually issue towards his subordinates, and Chase grins like the sun just came out of the clouds. <br><br> Safely delivered from your toad-kissing fate, you run on, laughing softly to yourself until the rumble of thunder overhead drowns you out. <br><br> <<include "day2or3">> <<elseif $blade gte 70>> <br><br> "Hold a moment," Blade says, his tone dry in an amused Ket sort of way. "<<c firstname>>, I order you not to kiss that toad." <br><br> You freeze, and all of you turn to regard Blade with wide eyes, surprised by the interruption. <br><br> His lips quirk once before his face falls into an expression of mock-seriousness. "As Commander, I cannot allow a subordinate to endanger <<print $them>>self for a game," he says formally. "We don't have the means to administer field treatment at this time. I won't have <<c firstname>> poisoning <<print $them>>self just to please you, Chase." <br><br> "That's right," Red says, unable to hold back his grin. "It'd be pretty stupid if we failed to catch this murderer-thing because <<c firstname>> was out of commission from kissing a random toad." <br><br> Blade nods. "So if you must, stick to the questions. No… ingesting random things in this swamp." <br><br> "Ahh," the thief sighs, "none of you are any fun." <br><br> But he seems to accept Blade's blatant abuse of power and jerks his head at you, signaling you to release the impassive toad. You glance at Blade, who nods imperceptibly, his eyes <i>almost</i> smiling in that hidden, muted way. Then you turn and run on, back into the rain and gloom. The toad bellows furiously somewhere behind you, as if annoyed by your sudden change of heart. You laugh to yourself, softly, until the rumble of thunder overhead drowns you out. <br><br> <<include "day2or3">> <<elseif $specialization is "wild">> <br><br> The toad glowers at you, and you feel the brush of its thoughts, slimy and ponderous like a billowing mushroom. <i>What are you doing? Unhand me at once.</i> <br><br> You start, jerking back from the toad, who puffs itself—himself—up in a grotesque manner, clearly trying to show you what an intimidating threat he is. <i>Oh. I'm sorry…</i> <br><br> If toads could curse you out, this sturdy fellow certainly would. <br><br> Chase laughs at your bewildered expression. "What's wrong?" <br><br> You look around plaintively as the toad turns and hops out of your hands, landing back in his puddle with a deep, indignant <i>splat</i>. "He… talked to me, and was not happy about being manhandled like that. He says that if I try it again, he'll bite me." <br><br> "Damn," Trouble says with a deep laugh, "that means you have to let $them off the hook, Chase. Getting bit by a toad is not in the original command." <br><br> "I suppose you're right," Chase says magnanimously. "But only because I failed to factor in <<c firstname>>'s ability to talk to the thing $she <<nobr>><<if $plural is true>>were<<else>>was<</if>><</nobr>> supposed to be kissing. Next time, I'll adapt accordingly." <br><br> Ending it on that ominous <i>next time</i>, you run on. <br><br> <<include "day2or3">> <<else>> <br><br> You kiss the toad. <br><br> It immediately hops out of your hands, its eyes bulging in that indignant, outraged manner, but other than that, nothing happens. Trouble makes improbably high sounds of delighted and incredulous disgust. Red heaves a deep '<i>of course $she did that</i>' kind of sigh. Blade is staring at you with a flat, blank kind of disbelief, as if you'd grown another head. Chase smirks and claps your shoulder as you wipe your mouth, but really it was just like kissing a wet rock—or something like that. <br><br> "Didn't think you had it in you, $nickname," he says admiringly. "You play for keeps. <<if $chasesex is true or $highestromance is "chase">> I'd almost be jealous, if I didn't know you already have far better-looking options." <<else>> I'll keep that in mind the next time I want a teammate in Intrigue or anything like that." <</if>> <br><br> Toad-kissing now over, you continue running, any conversation regarding your detour or the dare you just fulfilled lost within the sounds of the torrential rain. <br><br> <<include "day2or3">> <</if>><</nobr>>

"On second thought," you say, "I think I'll take the question." This is immediately met by a series of jeers and boos, mostly from Trouble, but there's one good-natured one from Red. Chase allows this reaction from the jury to pass before he says lightly, "That's against the rules, $nickname. You've got to do the dare." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Persuade him. "Since when were you ever a stickler for the rules?"' 'persuade7him'>><<if $charisma gte 60>><<setcharisma +3>><<else>><<setchase -3>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Wheedle him. "Make an exception for me. I\'ll make it worth your while."' 'wheedle7him'>><<if $chasesex is true or $highestromance is "chase">><<set $chaseromanceflag += 3>><<setchase +1>><<elseif $cunning gte 65 or $charisma gte 65>><<setcunning +3>><<else>><<setchase -3>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Stand firm. "I am not kissing that thing."' 'stand7firm'>><<if $courage gte 65>><<setcourage +3>><<else>><<setchase -3>><</if>><</link>></li> </ul>

Chase lets out a little laugh. "Fine, fine," he says easily. "You've got me there. I'd be a damn hypocrite if I nailed you to the wall for disobeying orders." He shrugs. "I suppose I can make <i>one</i> exception. But that's all you get, got it? So if I ask you a question instead, you've got to answer it." "Thank you for your generosity," you say lightly, while the others roll their eyes. <<include "question">>

<<nobr>><<if $chasesex is true or $highestromance is "chase">> Chase arches a brow, clearly intrigued. "Oh?" he asks, his voice a bit deeper, a little smirk twitching at the corner of his mouth. "How so?" <br><br> "Oh, <i>God</i>," Trouble mutters, sounding disgusted and mortified. "Please don't start flirting right now. This swamp is already as sickening as it is." Blade makes a little huff of agreement. <br><br> Chase grins, tossing you a secret wink before saying, "Well, I never could deny $nickname anything. Plus, I just realized that if $she <<nobr>><<if $plural is true>>kiss<<else>>kisses<</if>><</nobr>> a toad, that means <i>I'm</i> pretty much doing it, too. So I played myself." He shrugs. "Sorry, boys. <<c halfname>> <<if $plural is true>>win<<else>>wins<</if>> this one." <br><br> "It's that easy?" Red asks incredulously. "If I'd know I could get you to stop pestering me just by flirting with you, that would have made my life so much easier." <br><br> "You're welcome to start anytime, Liefred," Chase answers smoothly. Then he turns languidly to you and says, "So, $nickname, you'll take a question instead of kissing that toad? Even if that means you'll, ah, <i>owe</i> me?" <br><br> You nod while Trouble mutters something about shamelessness. "That's right." <br><br> <<include "question">> <<elseif $cunning gte 65 or $charisma gte 65>> <<include "acceptance">> <<else>> <<include "acceptance">> <</if>><</nobr>>

"Hmmm," Chase says, stroking his chin. "So what you're saying is… you'll owe me a favor?" A chill runs up your spine at that. "Um…" He snaps his fingers decisively. "Sold," he says. "I'll remember this, $nickname. You owe me a debt from now on. Just remember that the next time I approach you with a seemingly risky and unreasonable request, understand?" Before you can answer, he barrels on. "So you're going to take a question instead of your command?" You sigh, accepting the terms of the agreement. "Fine." <<include "question">>

<<nobr>><<if $courage gte 65>> Chase opens his mouth to argue, but you can match or even overtake Blade in sheer force of will and stubbornness; everyone knows that once you dig your heels in, there's no hope of persuading you. Chase seems to realize this and gives up before he starts, sighing and relenting, "Fine, fine. In the spirit of keeping this light and not starting a full-blown argument, I'll let it slide this <i>one</i> time. But I would like my generosity and adaptability to be heavily acknowledged and appreciated." <br><br> "It is," you inform him in warm tones. <br><br> He huffs lightly. "Fine. So you'll take the question instead of the command?" <br><br> "Yes." <br><br> <<include "question">> <<else>> "Ohhh no," Chase says. "That's not how this works. If I let you get away with it, what happens to the game? There's no law, there's no respect for the rules. It's total anarchy." <br><br> "It's not that serious, Chase." <br><br> You argue back and forth on it for a while, but you stand firm—even if your determination comes off more as unreasonable mulishness, and the spirit of the game is punctured slightly by how seriously you take yourself. Eventually Chase throws his hands in the air and gives up. "Fine, fine. In the spirit of keeping this light and not starting a full-blown argument, I'll let it slide this <i>one</i> time. But I would like my generosity and adaptability to be heavily acknowledged and appreciated." <br><br> "It is," you inform him in warm tones. <br><br> He huffs lightly. "Fine. So you'll take the question instead of the command?" <br><br> "Yes." <br><br> <<include "question">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $blade gt 70>> "I wouldn't know," Blade says, still very disgruntled. <<else>> Blade has nothing in response to this except disdainful silence. <</if>><</nobr>> Chase says, in a tone of playful exasperation, "The whole point of Question or Command is that you're supposed to answer the question truthfully." "I never agreed to play," Blade answers moodily. "I bet it's true," Trouble says. "Every Ket I've ever met was like that—you couldn't even say the word 'honor' around them without them watching you like you were suddenly on very thin ice. It's probably, you know, very sensitive, very forbidden stuff. <<nobr>><<if $troubleromanceflag gte 20>> I could see that being repurposed as, you know, bed games." He coughs suddenly, wetly, like the surrounding fog is beginning to creep into his lungs, and suddenly refuses to look at you. <<elseif $rank is "Captain">> Hael, <<c halfname>>, even that recruit of yours, Daren or whatever, is obsessed with it, isn't he?" <<else>> That's like the height of dirty talk, isn't it?" <</if>><</nobr>> Blade is examining the sky, as if a message from the gods has been written up there, even though you can't see anything from beneath the tangled black brambles and rain-heavy, sagging canopy. "Tell us something else, then, if you won't tell us about that," Red presses, surprising you all by joining in on the teasing. "The only thing I have to say," Blade answers slowly, "is that I loathe—<i>loathe</i>, <b><i>loathe</i></b>—you all." <<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 20>> <br><br> Chase gets a very slow, wicked grin, as if this is exactly the thing he's been after all along, and Blade has fallen neatly into his trap. "Not <<c firstname>>," he says brightly, and sends you a wink. <br><br> Blade falls into shocked silence and refuses to say anything more. <br><br> <<include "day2or3">> <<else>> Chase chuckles. "Doesn't count," he tells Blade with relaxed, drawling affection. "You've got to tell us a secret, and that's no secret at all." <br><br> However, Blade remains stubbornly silent. <<include "questionorcommand">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $charisma lt 50>> "Or be quiet for a little while," you add. <br><br> <</if>><</nobr>> Chase sighs. "Fine," he says, relenting. "But if you don't think I'm not just going to bring it up again at a supremely inconvenient time, like in the middle of a battle in front of an important enemy or something, you've got another think coming." The conversation lapses into shocked and resigned silence as you all take this in. Chase lies about a lot of things, but never about something like this. He <i>is</i> liable to bring up the most shameless things at the worst times possible—and he's like a dog after a bone: he never forgets anything. Blade has a look on his face like he's just realized this and would have liked to have gotten it over with now instead of later—but he's too proud to go back on his word. A slightly amused, ominous feeling creeps over you all. <<include "day2or3">>

Chase and Blade bicker back and forth for a while, but it's hard to hear the details over the sound of the rain. Blade stands his ground, and Chase, knowing just enough to not truly aggravate him, light-heartedly backs off. Eventually, the conversation lapses back into silence again, and the five of you continue plodding through the storm. <<include "day2or3">>

The breakneck pace continues, and yet you have the creeping feeling that you're not actually getting anywhere. How could anybody, let alone an entire village, live in such a desolate, bleak place, with its unbroken gray landscape and its vast stretches of swelling, filthy water? How would they ever know where they were going? How would they ever have faith that this swamp actually comes to an end? <<nobr>><<if $strength gte 60>> So far, you've managed to keep up with the group with admirable grace and speed, but it's your mind that feels like it's subtly fraying; you need something, <i>anything,</i> to indicate that you're making progress, or you're going to become convinced that you're simply trapped in this never-ending carousel of rain and marsh for eternity. Perhaps this is why the people of Wallmire can't get out, you think. Perhaps this is what took down those other squads—not an enemy, but simply the madness of running around and around the same swamp… <<else>> Your energy is beginning to desperately flag, your body beginning to stumble and stagger with weariness and aching soreness—but it's your mind that's fraying more. You need something, <i>anything,</i> to indicate that you're making progress, or you're going to become convinced that you're simply trapped in this never-ending carousel rain and marsh for eternity. Perhaps this is why the people of Wallmire can't get out, you think. Perhaps this is what took down those other squads—not an enemy, but simply the madness of running around and around the same swamp… <</if>><</nobr>> You don't encounter any significant threats or creatures <<nobr>><<if $kaidir is true>> (at least you can avoid any water deep enough to hold another bloodmorph), <<else>> (at least, nothing more serious than angry snakes or confused bats) <</if>><</nobr>> but at one point, day or night, you still can't quite tell—you think you hear high-pitched, hysterical screaming in the distance. It's not exactly like someone in pain: more just like fathomless, mind-rending terror. Trouble's gun is out in an instant, and so is Blade's sword. Magic blazes in your and Red's hands, and Chase tenses all the way up like a cat about to spring on a field mouse. He scampers up a tree without a word to scout the landscape, his dagger hilt gripped between his teeth. But in the end you find that it's only a bird, some sort of mocking, cackling thing whose call sounds like the screams of someone being stabbed to death. Irritated, you plow on without much comment—though the dark thought sticks with you once Red gives voice to it: "I hope that bird's not imitating something it actually heard." You keep hearing—and ignoring—snatches of odd sounds after that. More screaming, and the muttering and rustling and croaking of strange animals hidden all around you in the thick, clinging underbrush. In the unending dark, the mind plays such tricks that the sounds always seem startlingly human; and an ashy knob wrapped around a tree looks like the fingers of a long pale hand, or a log strangely suspended by furry vines looks like the dangling corpse of a hanged man before you blink the rainwater out of your eyes. Once, Trouble starts violently beside you, and he hisses, "Kaidir?" The leader of the missing Wymer Squad. He whips his head around, his eyes looking almost golden in the gloom. "I thought I heard—" But no matter how hard you listen, you don't catch anything besides the smattering of the storm, and Trouble, shame-faced, acknowledges that he thinks it was just the wind. The trees crowd and press around you like watching ghosts. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Day ?</span></div></div>' "what7day">><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<if settings.music is true>><<audio ":playing" fadeout>><<audio "swamp" volume 0 loop fadeoverto 10 0.05>><</if>><</nobr>>Finally, you begin to notice changes in your surroundings; the Bleakmoor, impossibly, becomes even more hostile as you finally seem to approach its epicenter. The light overhead recedes more and more, until you find yourself plunged in a kind of eternal midnight. The curtain of rain draws back, too, at least a little; now there are stretches of time when it doesn't rain at all, but a cold, muggy, dense fog crawls in from beneath the sunken tree roots, smelling strangely of pungent pollen, fungus, and something fetid and wet. A constant cacophony of sound whirs all around you now, filling the empty space left by the rain: the angry buzzing of insects flying past your face, the gurgling and screeching of things in the dark, sometimes sounding like creaking human laughter or lilting sobs. You are so thoroughly sick of being wet that you want to weep. The stress of it all is beginning to wear on the group. Most conversations stopped long ago, punctuated only by clipped commands or weary grunts or mumbling. Chase, valiantly, continues to try to keep the mood light, but it's a failing battle, like a candle sputtering in a strong wind. Really, the only thing left to talk about is how awful everything is. "Gods help us," he says in the dark. "Look how the water boils with worms." "Cease that talk," Blade replies without looking behind. He splashes into a crop of ferns and scatters a sickly cluster of tiny, stinging slugs. "Take care that you don't step on a marsh ray," Chase says to the rest of the group, paying no heed. "I've heard that they ride the overflow when it rains, and hide in deep puddles—they can kill you in a flash." "<i>Chase</i>. We don't need that kind of talk." "What," the thief says lightly, "<i>now</i> you're concerned about lowering morale? Trust me, Spike, it can't get much lower than this. Not when we're stranded in the filthiest, most disgusting place on the Continent—gods, look at <i>that </i> monstrosity—" A wet frond of something slaps your face, and with it some sort of luminous worm. You suppress a shudder and brush it from your cheek; you feel it cling slightly, then drop into the water, squirming. Blade and Chase are still arguing in low tones, and then when you turn your head to glance back, you suddenly see that they're right up in each other's faces, silent now, squaring up. Blade's glare is deep and deadly, and he <i>looms</i> somehow, impossibly foreboding, even though he usually stands only a few inches taller than Chase; <<nobr>><<if $heritage is "Ket">> it's a Ket thing, a trick of arma, <</if>><</nobr>> but Chase seems thoroughly immune to it and only stares back, calm and lightly defiant, his chin tilted upward nonchalantly, almost as if he's only distantly curious about what's going to happen next. <<nobr>><<if $chase lt 65>> But he's so motionless, and his eyes are suddenly so dilated that the green in them is almost completely overtaken by black. <</if>><</nobr>> Trouble places a steadying hand on Blade's elbow, and Red clamps his on Chase's shoulder, but neither of the men move, utterly and totally still. There is only the hum of insect wings and sloshing swamp water. The mist closes in like clammy fingers, plucking at your clothes and hair. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Look around in obvious confusion. "Uh... what the fuck is going on?"' 'look7obvious'>><<setcunning -3>><<setcharisma -3>><<setcourage +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Snap at them. "Are you done being idiots yet, or should we just stand around and wait for the rain to come back?"' 'snap7at'>><<setcompassionate -5>><<fair_plus "$loyal" -10>><<setcourage +3>><<if $blade lt 70>><<setblade -3>><</if>><<if $chase lt 70>><<setchase -3>><</if>><<settrouble +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Try and diffuse the situation. "Look, we\'re all stressed and exhausted. Let\'s not let our tempers get the better of us. Wallmire has to be close."' 'try7diffuse'>><<if $charisma gte 70>><<setblade +3>><<setchase +3>><<setred +1>><<settrouble +1>><<setloyal +5>><<setcharisma +3>><<setcompassionate +5>><<else>><<setcharisma -3>><<setcompassionate +5>><<setloyal +5>><</if>><</link>></li> <<if ($blade gt 70 or $bladeromanceflag gte 25) or ($loyal gt 60 and $blade gt 60)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Use your relationship to appeal to Blade. "Ease up, Commander."</div>' 'use7ryour'>><<setblade +3>><<if $chase gt 65>><<setchase +3>><</if>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Use your relationship to appeal to Blade. "Ease up, Commander."</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($chase gt 70 or $chasesex is true) or $chaseromanceflag gte 20>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Use your relationship to appeal to Chase. "Stand down, Chase."</div>' 'use7relationship'>><<setchase +3>><<if $blade gt 70>><<setblade +3>><</if>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Use your relationship to appeal to Chase. "Stand down, Chase."</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link 'Remain silent.' 'remain7silent'>><<fair_plus "$charisma" -10>><<fair_plus "$loyal" -10>><<setcompassionate -1>><<settrouble -3>><<setred -3>><</link>></li> </ul>

Neither of them move, but your words seem to have broken the strange tension that's fallen over the group: Red sighs and says, "Look. We're all tired, sore, and cold. I'm basically just one big blister, and I've forgotten what it's like to be dry. We all feel—" "Like shit," Trouble says. Red nods. "It's not surprising that we want to bite each other's heads off. But it's just the swamp. I guarantee you once we get somewhere warm and get some actual food and rest, you're going to feel stupid for even arguing like this, and you're going to shake hands and laugh about it. But right now, we just need to keep moving." There's another tense, silent moment before Blade and Chase back away from each other, relaxing slightly. Blade turns on his heel, frowning deeply, while Chase heaves a sigh and says, "You're right. Sorry, Spike. I know I'm being a pain in the ass." "You are," Blade allows reluctantly, his face hidden from the group, "but I'm not helping. As squad leader, I should do better." He inclines his head curtly to Red. "…You are right, Antiqua." The Mage smiles. "I usually am," he says, his tone deliberately light and cheerful. "But we can discuss my many merits another time. Shall we keep going?" Blade nods, his mouth tight and his eyes unreadable. "Move out." <<include "then7before">>

The two of them start guiltily, then look away from each other, sullen now. Chase sighs and says, "Fine, fine. I'm sorry, Spike. I'm antsy—and I run my mouth when I get antsy. I'll stop being a pain in the ass." Blade inclines his head, curt. "My nerves are thin," is all he says by way of apology. "But I shouldn't have lost my temper." His mouth tightens in apparent frustration, possibly at himself, but he shakes his head and shrugs it off. "Let's just keep moving." <<include "then7before">>

<<nobr>><<if $charisma gte 70>> Something in your words clearly seems to work, because the tension instantly snaps, and Blade and Chase turn away from each other, blinking in a vaguely sheepish way. Chase rubs the back of his neck and mutters, "Sorry, Spike. Rain's been making me antsy—I run my mouth off when I get antsy. I'll stop being a pain in the ass." <br><br> Blade inclines his head and says, curt, "My nerves are thin, too. But that's no excuse. I shouldn't have lost my temper." <br><br> It's probably the most apologetic you've ever heard him, and Chase grins and extends his hand in the Norm gesture of friendship. "We're good, then?" <br><br> Blade makes a brief humming tone of assent and shakes it; and just like that, things are fine again, and the mood instantly relaxes. Red breathes a sigh of relief; Trouble shoots you an approving, grateful smile. <br><br> Blade sighs and says, sounding more weary than you've heard him thus far: "Let's keep moving." <br><br> <<include "then7before">> <<else>> But your words come out clumsy, more weary and hopeless than you intend, and the only reason why the tension abates is because the both of them look a little guilty for putting more strain on you. Blade glances away from Chase and mutters, "Fine. We move out." <br><br> <<include "then7before">> <</if>><</nobr>>

He tenses up briefly at the sound of your voice—and then, slowly, you sense his muscles relaxing, his body unwinding as that frightful, deadly energy seeps out of him. After a moment of silence, he inclines his head and says, "You're right. My nerves are thin. I…" He bites off the words, then says with a hint of sullen reluctance, "I erred in my judgment. I apologize, Chase." The thief smiles, all loose and languid wryness again; the hard, detached look of him fades away in an instant. "I'm sorry, too, Spike," he says easily, holding his hand out in the Norm gesture of friendship. "I'm antsy, and when I get antsy, I run my mouth. I'll stop being a pain in the ass. Friends?" Blade huffs lightly in something that could be close to amusement, and they shake. The Ket glances at <<nobr>><<if $highestromance is "blade">> you in awkward acknowledgment, almost shyly, before he looks quickly away and says, "Let's move out." <<else>> you, nods briefly in thanks, and says, all business again: "Let's move out." <</if>><</nobr>> The others nod; Red heaves a sigh of relief, and Trouble sends you an approving smile and a wink. Chase spares you an interested glance and murmurs under his breath, "Well done, you. <<nobr>><<if $highestromance is "blade">> You've got him wrapped around your little finger, huh?" <<else>> He never listens to anybody when he's gone all 'Ket boss corporal punishment-y'. What's your secret?" <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "then7before">>

He tenses up briefly at the sound of your voice, then relaxes, a rueful little smile playing around the corners of his mouth. "You're right, <<c nickname>>," he says, glancing at you; his posture loosens back to its usual, languid stance, and his expression softens from that strange, hard, detached look back into playful amusement. "As always." He holds his hand out for Blade to shake. "Sorry, Commander. I'm antsy, and I run my mouth when I get antsy. I'll stop being such a pain in the ass." The glance Blade affords you is veiled surprise—and gratitude. He takes the hand Chase offers and shakes it once. "My nerves are thin, too," he says, by way of clear apology. "But I'm not helping the situation. Let us forget it and move on." Then he nods to you, almost warily. "Thank you, <<c firstname>>." Red heaves a sigh of relief, and Trouble grins. "Leave it to <<c halfname>> to mediate, as usual," he murmurs. "Shall we get a move on?" <<include "then7before">>

After another moment of tense silence, Blade abruptly turns on his heel, still thrumming with annoyed, restrained energy. "Move out," he says, his voice like a whip as he strides into the undergrowth. Chase laughs softly, a touch of sarcasm in it. "Aye, aye, Commander." <<include "then7before">>

Then, before anyone can move—there's a scream. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "then7beforei">><<if settings.music is true>><<audio ":playing" fadeout>><</if>><</link>></center>

For a moment, none of you really react. You're all so used to the swamp's distorted and misleading sounds; you've had too many false alarms to jump into action right away. The sound is far-off, high and reedy and plaintive, like a child's cry; it could be another damned bird, or even the way the wind tears through natural funnels in the canopy. But then the screams resolve into something else. There's two of them, for one thing. And they're saying <i>words.</i> "<i>Help! Someone help!</i>" You look around at the others, whose stricken expressions tell you everything: that wasn't just some trick of the wind, something you just imagined. They all heard it, too. Two human voices, crying out with hysterical panic. Young. <i>There are children out in the swamp, and they need help.</i> You all take off running in the direction of the screams. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "then7beforeii">><</link>></center>

It's not hard to find the source of all of the commotion; within moments of sprinting, you see a wavering pinprick of light appear in the distance, a pale lantern flame that casts a sickly sheen on the muddy, soap-scummy surface of the marshes. It does more to shine uselessly into your eyes than illuminate the paths ahead, but it gives you a sure beacon to move towards to. Onward you plunge, your $mainweapon gripped tightly in your hand. After a moment, something else appears in the distance, too—a faint red light stabbing through the trees, moving slowly. Shadows stir against its edges, churning up the dirty waters of the swamp. It looks like creatures, rats and bats and toads, are fleeing ahead of the red light—but you can't be totally sure. You look to Trouble, but he shakes his head; from this far away, he can't make out anything better than you can. As you draw closer, you hear the sounds of the children nearby: one's impatient, near-hysterical yelling, the other's sobs as they blubber, "I'm trying, I'm <i>trying</i>!" You hear something else, too, far off but furious. A shriek, female and harsh, this one not a sound of distress but more like a hunting call, a wordless challenge. The sound seems to weave through the very fabric of the swamps, piercing your eardrums in a needle-like way. The hair on your arms prickles. A sick lurch moves in your heart, though you can't say why. The yellow lantern flame bobs closer, unsteady and erratic—and then you crash through the underbrush and nearly run headlong into its blinding light. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "then7beforeiii">><</link>></center>

Two children stand frozen in their tracks, staring at you as if you were ghostly apparitions materializing out of the fog. They're both the same age as each other, maybe a little younger than Caine: eleven, maybe, or perhaps his age but scrawny and underfed. They're obviously twins, near identical, except that the girl has big, defiant green eyes and the boy's are soft, gray, and ringed by long dark lashes. Both have frizzy brown curls, the girl's as fluffy as a spaniel's ears and the boy's cropped only a little shorter, to his ears. The boy carries a lantern and a bulging travel pack; the girl carries a pitchfork far too big for her and an even bigger bow slung across her back. In the lantern light, it almost looks as if they have a faint, greenish tinge to their olive skin. The boy's mouth falls open at the sight of you, but then the girl—his sister—shoves him behind her and raises her pitchfork. "Who are you?" she barks, surprisingly composed. She has a strange, thick burr to her voice, a rural accent that you've never heard before, faintly musical and lilting. "Where did you come from?" "Easy," Red says in soothing tones, holding up his hands. "We're here to help you; we heard you shouting. We're Shepherds." "Shepherds?" She says it like it has a z—<i>Zepherdths</i>—and thrusts her pitchfork at him. "I don't know you." It's not hard to see why she's so suspicious of you; Blade is standing there with his black sword loose in his hand, staring at the children with his brows drawn down like he thinks they could be miniature assassins, while Trouble looks through the scope of his big sniper rifle, the barrel sweeping around like a darting viper's head. Red—tall as anything, with flame-red hair—has that warhammer slung across his back, and Chase vibrates with unspent energy, splashing back and forth as he watches for the red light through the trees. And then there's you, <<nobr>><<if $goggles is false>> with the strange glow in your eyes, crackling with magic, armed to the teeth. <<else>> crackling with magic, armed to the teeth. <</if>><</nobr>> If you were these twins, you wouldn't trust you, either. Sensing your stare, the girl thrusts her pitchfork at you now, obscuring your view of her brother. "Stop looking at him!" <ul class="choices"> <<if $strength gte 20>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Yank the weapon away from her. While you understand her suspicion, you can\'t afford a threat.</div>' 'yank7weapon'>><<setstrength +1>><<setcompassionate -8>><<setcunning +1>><<set $wallmire -= 5>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Yank the weapon away from her. While you understand her suspicion, you can\'t afford a threat.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link 'Talk her down. "Like we said, we\'re here to help you. You don\'t need to threaten us."' 'talk7her'>><<setcharisma +1>><<set $wallmire += 5>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Try and evaluate the situation. "Why were you screaming?"' 'try7and'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Address the boy. "Are you all right? What\'s your name?"' 'address7the'>><<setcharisma +1>><<setcompassionate +3>><<if $compassionate gt 70>><<set $wallmire += 3>><</if>><</link>></li> </ul>

The girl gasps in fear and outrage as you easily grab the handle of the pitchfork and jerk it out of her grasp. "I don't take kindly to having a weapon stabbed towards my face," you say calmly. "Now, let's try again." The girl glares at you, and her brother shrinks back, fearful. <<include "heads7up">>

The girl still stares at you suspiciously, but the boy looks back and forth between you and her, now more hesitant to treat you as an enemy. He trembles, clearly wanting to say something. <<include "heads7up">>

<<nobr>><<if $compassionate gte 70>> The boy blinks rapidly at you; the girl nudges him sharply for silence, but he swallows and opens his mouth, clearly wanting to answer you. <<else>> The boy shrinks back from you, too fearful to say anything. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "heads7up">>

"Heads up," Trouble says then, flicking a catch on his rifle. You instantly form a defensive position around the two children at Blade's hand signal: enough to flank and shield them on the sides, but not so much that they're completely behind you, free to break and run when your backs are turned—or attack you from the rear, if that's a concern. The children are silent now, craning their necks and peering fearfully through the trees. You feel yourself sweating even in the chilly air. The red light appears again, much closer now, and stronger, too—turning fiery and painful as it focuses into a kind of sharply-concentrated ray. The same shriek you heard before blasts through the marshes again, and suddenly the bushes to the right of you erupt into a cloud of wood and foliage as birds take off in a panic, screeching and cawing madly. You try not to look at them, to not get distracted, but your vision jumps for only a moment. And when you look back, you see that something like a woman has appeared between the trees, drifting over the water towards you with dreadful unhurriedness. It is a hideous sight. Though the thing has the visage of a pale, long-limbed woman, blood streaks from its mouth, which is filled with needle-like teeth. Dark, bloody runes are etched upon its forehead, and its eyes are like two great red lamps, blasting an eerie, searing crimson light every time it seems to look your way. The creature's head dangles gruesomely on its neck as it stumbles forward, moving like it's blind and half-broken. You can feel a reek of Endarkened magic encircling it, tethering it to its madness. When it looses its scream, your vision shakes, your mind sways, and a milk-sour, rancid smell fills your nostrils. Chase swears softly, trying not to flinch as the thing screams and screams, still moving towards you with the same unhurried pace. "Hael—what <i>is</i> that thing?" "Some kind of Tainted," Red grits out, breathing through his mouth. Endarkened Rot and magic, when it's being worked, tends to affect Mages more than others. "A species of Ghast, I think—gods, that <i>sound</i>—maybe endemic to the Bleakmoor." <<nobr>><<if $metmekduk is true>> <br><br> An icy tension grips your heart at that. <i>Ghast</i>. Like Mekduk. <</if>><</nobr>> "It's a Banshee," one of the children behind you blurts. "Don't get too close to it, or it'll strangle you—and some people get hypnotized by its lights!" Trouble glances back at Blade, and they exchange a wordless look. Then Blade nods, and the sniper turns and opens fire. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "heads7upi">><</link>></center>

Trouble calmly lines up the Banshee within his sights, then fires off a flurry of shots. You see the bullets sink into the thing’s bluish, sticky flesh, but only its head jerks back; the rest of the body continues its progress unhalted. The red lights swivel to stare in your direction. <ul class="choices"> <<if $astral gte 20 and $magic gte 20>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Fling it back with your magic.</div>' 'fling7bit'>><<setmagic +1>><<setastral +1>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Fling it back with your magic.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $astral gte 50 and $magic gte 50>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Set it on fire with your magic.</div>' 'set7fire'>><<setmagic +3>><<setastral +3>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Set it on fire with your magic.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $mainweapon is "bow" or $possess_bow is true>><li><<link 'Add your arrows to the onslaught.' 'add7your'>><<setbow +3>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $mainweapon is "gun" or $possess_gun is true>><li><<link 'Add your own bullets to the onslaught.' 'add7bullets'>><<setgun +3>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link 'Tell the children to look away as the Banshee begins to spurt black blood.' 'tell7children'>><<setcompassionate +5>><<set $wallmire += 1>><</link>></li> </ul>

You throw up your hands and <i>push</i> your thoughts at the thing, willing it to fly backwards. You feel the straining in your blood, and then—the Banshee is flung backwards with tremendous force, smacking into a blackened tree with a bone-crushing impact. It crumples instantly, and Trouble's next bullet severs its spinal cord. The thing gives one last gurgling wail before sinking into the marsh and dying. <<include "clear7trouble">>

You murmur a spellword, and bright flame immediately licks up the Banshee's gangly frame, immolating it in searing magefire: it lets loose a piercing screech, sounding like a balloon about to burst, or a pustule about to pop. It's not long before it shrivels, then bursts into a shower of oozing black blood. You hear Red telling the children to close their eyes, which is probably smart: a sight like that would haunt their nightmares for quite some time. <<include "clear7trouble">>

You draw your bow and unleash a powerful arrow that zips through the air, sinking into the Banshee's glowing right eye so that it looks like its skull has sprouted a bloody flower. Under your relentless assault, the creature quickly folds and dies, crumpling into the dark water with one last gurgling screech. <<include "clear7trouble">>

You post up next to Trouble and unleash your own hailstorm of bullets, pelting the Banshee with shot after shot. Its head explodes into a shower a oozing black blood. Under your relentless assault, the creature quickly folds and dies, crumpling into the dark water and silently disappearing into the depths of the marsh. <<include "clear7trouble">>

Red murmurs a spellword, and bright flame immediately licks up the Banshee's gangly frame, immolating it in green magefire: it lets loose a piercing screech, sounding like a balloon about to burst, a pustule about to pop. It's not long before it shrivels and then bursts into a shower of oozing black blood. You make the children close their eyes so that their nightmares aren't forever haunted by the sight. <<include "clear7trouble">>

"Clear," Trouble says then, pulling his eye away from his rifle. Red splashes forward to examine the body of the Banshee while your team fans out to carry out a brief reconnaissance of the area; after a few moments, it becomes clear that there are no other threats nearby, and you regroup, keeping a wary eye on the thick shadows pressing in against the children's lantern light. Red looks up from the Banshee and says, "It's definitely a Tainted, all right." "Does that mean Endarkened are near?" Blade asks, his hand still gripping his sword. Red shakes his head. "Hard to say. Like the Ghasts in the Reach, this thing could have been birthed years ago, even centuries; it could have been wandering this swamp since forever, and its demonic sire would have abandoned the area a long time ago. It may not even be, er, native to the Bleakmoor; it could have wandered down from the Realm-of-Ghosts, or even the Waste." "Went down pretty easy," Trouble notes. "Hard to think anything like that could have taken out Kaidir's squad, or the other teams." "Tainted are usually fairly straightforward to handle singly," Blade says. "It's when they're in groups that you have to worry." At that, both of the twins begin yelling at you, ripping your attention away from the discussion. "Come on, come <i>on</i>, we've got to <i>go</i>—" "Go where?" Chase asks, shaking a slimy bunch of weeds off of his ankle. "I assume you two are from Wallmire?" There aren't any other towns in this part of the Bleakmoor, as far as you're aware. The twins look at each other for a moment, consulting with each other as if by telepathy. Then the girl, shifting from foot to foot as if she's got ants crawling on her, says anxiously, "You really are Shepherds?" So she knows about your organization, after all? "Have you heard of us?" you ask her. "Someone from Wallmire sent a letter, asking us to come…" That decides it. "Yes," the girl says breathlessly. "That's us, you've come at last. Come, we've got to get home quickly…" "What on Earth were you doing out here by yourselves?" Red asks her. "And have you seen anyone else like us? Other Shepherds?" Trouble interrupts. "And what has you so anxious?" Blade asks keenly. "Are there other threats out there? More Banshees?" The girl's eyes dart all around, as if the trees themselves could be leaning in and listening. "Not here," she says adamantly. Her brother beside her is cowed and silent. "First, we need to get home. And then the adults can tell you everything." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "clear7troublei">><</link>></center>

The twins—whose names are Cyril and Surya—lead you back towards their village, which they explain is about an hour and a half's walk from where you found them. You wonder why such young children were so far from their town, armed with weapons clearly not meant for them and a stuffed travel pack, but they refuse to divulge what they were doing out in the swamp, their chins sullenly tucked to their chests as they plod on. They only give you the briefest, barest answers, acting strangely subdued; <<nobr>><<if $cainesafe is true or $cainejoin is true>> especially when you compare them to other kids their age, like Caine and his chatterbox friends. And you don't think it's just because of the trauma of their recent experiences. <<else>> and you don't think it's just because of the trauma of their recent experiences. <</if>><</nobr>> It's almost as if they're afraid of telling you too much… <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'You leave them be. They\'re clearly distressed, and you\'ll find out what you need to soon enough.' 'you7leave'>><<setcompassionate +5>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Try to gain their trust by talking to them pleasantly. There must be something they\'re comfortable talking about.' 'try7to'>><<if $charisma gte 65>><<setcharisma +3>><<else>><<setcharisma -3>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Question them suspiciously. You\'ve had enough of this swamp and its tricks. This could just be another one.' 'question7them'>><<setcharisma -3>><<setcunning +3>><<setcompassionate -5>><<set $wallmire -= 5>><</link>></li> </ul>

You trek on, serving as silent escorts while you guard Cyril and Surya's journey home. <<include "clear7troubleii">>

"So," you begin conversationally, "had you ever seen a Banshee like that before? I've seen a lot of demonic creatures, but never anything like that. Is it really true that the red lights hypnotize people?" <<nobr>><<if $charisma gte 65>> If there's one thing all children like, it's the ability to tell an adult stories. Surya, the more talkative of the two, immediately perks up, her chest swelling eagerly as she gets ready to show off her knowledge. Even Cyril nods along, attentive. <br><br> "It only works on some people," Surya says, running her hand experimentally through her brown frizz as if she isn't used to it. "No one knows why. Cy says it might be genetic—" <br><br> "Mom told me that," her brother puts in abashedly. <br><br> "—but for the people it does work on, it just sort of… freezes them in place. Like a deer when it's startled, you know. And then the Banshee creeps up and up…" <br><br> "Surya, don't," Cyril begs. <br><br> "And then it wraps its long claws around your neck, and then it strangles you. And eats you!" She makes a chomping motion with her teeth for emphasis. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Are they very common around these parts?"' 'are7they'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Who\'s your mom?"' 'whos7your'>><<set $swampclue += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"What do you think the screeching is for?"' 'what7screeching'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Do you know if they\'re truly related to Ghasts?"' 'do7ghasts'>><<set $swampclue += 1>><</link>></li> </ul> <<else>> However, even to your own ears, the words come out patronizing and cooing, like you're talking to little babies. Surya sniffs, clearly not taking the bait. Her brother, while seemingly more interested, follows her lead, and the two of them remain silent for the rest of the trip. <br><br> Well, it was worth a try. <br><br> <<include "clear7troubleii">> <</if>><</nobr>>

It's Cyril who shakes his head. It seems that this is a safe enough topic for them to let their guard down. "Used to be that we'd only ever hear about one every year or so," he says. "Most of the time, we'd just hide inside our houses and lock all the doors, and they'd go away on their own. Sometimes the grownups would circle one and kill it. But now…" "There are lots more, now," Surya says matter-of-factly. "At least one every few weeks." "Is that why you've been having trouble leaving your village?" Trouble asks then. The children fall abruptly silent. Chase heaves a sigh while you throw a pointed glare Trouble's way. "Way to go, Trubs," the thief whispers under his breath. "<<c firstname>> just got them talking, and now you've offended them." "What the Hael," Trouble grumbles. "What did I say?" "You'd know if you weren't so shit at talking to people." "Stick it up your—" Red interrupts hastily. "Let's, uh, not forget there are <i>minors present?</i>" Cyril and Surya, on the other hand, look somewhat delighted to be adding some new words to their vocabulary. You turn away. At least you've picked up something potentially useful: the sightings of Tainted creatures like Banshees has increased in recent times. Considering the proliferation of demons outside of the Bleakmoor and the Endarkened's overall return to Blest, this doesn't necessarily strike you as that odd… but maybe it speaks to whatever's been going on in these woods? You plod on, chewing over the matter as you walk. <<include "clear7troubleii">>

"She's the <i>heguman</i> of the village," Cyril says proudly. "Our zaza's the <i>gothi.</i>" "Is that Common?" Red asks curiously. "I haven't heard those terms before." The children abruptly fall silent. Chase heaves a sigh while you throw a pointed glare Red's way. "Way to go, Red," the thief whispers under his breath. "<<c firstname>> just got them talking, and now you've offended them." Red looks mortified. "I was only wondering," he says, glancing at you in embarrassment. "An isolated place like this is bound to have its own linguistic quirks—Hael, they're so cut-off from the rest of the world that their culture, the closed nature of their society, would make a <i>fascinating</i> case study. My sister would love this. If, you know, there weren't the Banshees and blood-sucking creatures and constant rain and darkness." "Stop talking about them like they're specimens, they're <i>right there,</i>" Trouble hisses. "Sorry. Shutting up." Blade rolls his eyes to himself, but you don't think Cyril or Surya look that offended; in fact, Cyril hides a giggle behind his hand. But they say nothing more about their village, and you plod on for the rest of the journey in silence. <<include "clear7troubleii">>

If a Banshee is a mutation of a Ghast, its features must have some sort of evolutionary purpose. Surya shrugs. "They're slow, are the Banshees," she says. "So they need some way to keep you in place, so they can catch you. The lights are the first way. If those don't work, then they do the screaming. That usually slows people down, makes them panic. Then, when they're stumbling around in pain, the Banshee gets 'em." Red is nodding to himself, on your left side. "The screams are probably designed to instill fear and panic," he theorizes. "I'd wager they're pretty effective at making most people break ranks and scatter." Surya casts a wary, almost admiring glance at your $mainweapon. "Not you, though." "We're not like most people," you tell her confidently. The children cast a glance at each other, but seem to have nothing to say to that. <<include "clear7troubleii">>

"I think so," Cyril says seriously. "Ghasts were first born in the mountains, weren't they? Mostly they ate each other, or hunted people who got lost in the cave systems, that kind of thing. They had their long limbs to be able to pounce on people, and they didn't have eyes because it didn't help them any in the dark. But when they came down from the mountains and were out in the open, none of those things helped them. So they had to evolve other traits that would allow them to catch prey. They move slowly, so they needed the lights to lure people close, and then the screams to paralyze them or make them panic. They're like a mutant offshoot of Ghasts. The Bleakmoor has a lot of those. Mutants and spin-offs and—hybrids, you know, weird evolutionary branches." There's a brief pause. "Them's a lot of words, kid," Chase remarks, sounding impressed. Cyril ducks his head, abashed. "We learn that kind of stuff in school," he says to the ground. "Anatomy, and that kind of thing." Red looks at you, his eyebrows raised. "Didn't know a place like Wallmire would be teaching you kids all of that." "Why, 'cause you thought we'd be stupid?" Surya interjects. "Ah—no, it's just that I know a lot of rural places don't usually have the means to offer schoolrooms, especially in such small communities…" "Well, <i>we</i> do," Surya declares, and she and her brother fall silent after that. Chase nudges Red sharply. "Way to go, Red," he murmurs under his breath. "<<c firstname>> got them talking, and you just had to go and bung it up." Red shoots you an apologetic glance and mouths, <i>Sorry.</i> <<include "clear7troubleii">>

"Are you really taking us to Wallmire?" you probe. For all you know, they could be leading you into a trap; in fact, this could be how the previous squads met their ends. The girl, Surya, grants you a contemptuous look. "Of course we are," she says, a trace of haughtiness to her voice. But isn't that exactly what a trickster <i>would</i> say? You press harder. "And why exactly are you taking us there? When we found you, you were heading <i>away</i> from it." Surya says nothing, peering up at you with only the scorn a prepubescent child could possess. Her brother, Cyril, says quietly, "We thought we could make it… out. But then the Banshee came, and if you hadn't saved us…" He trails off for a moment. "That's why we're going back. We would've died if you hadn't showed up. It's safer to go home. And you need someone to lead you there, anyway." Blade blinks, very slowly, and you know he wants to make a comment about how he was navigating you to Wallmire just fine with his map—but in the end, he holds his tongue. So do you, though you're still not entirely convinced. <<include "clear7troubleii">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "ghostly7light">><</link>></center>

<<friendshipcalc>>Finally, you begin to see pinpricks of greenish, ghostly light appearing in the fabric of the night, the distant torchlights reflecting off of the water so that it looks like will o' wisps or fireflies are hovering in the dark. Wallmire is a small but surprisingly robust settlement, from what you can make out. The surroundings are dreary, but the longhouses have a strength to them, a time-worn solidity that brings to mind grand oak trees rather than ramshackle hovels. Some houses are couched on the muddy shores of the marsh, clearly built to withstand the constant rain and wet. Others are built on stilts in the very water itself, rising up on a necklace of creaking docks, footbridges, and connective walkways. There look to be enough houses for two hundred people here—a much larger population than you were expecting—though, curiously, the houses on the shore seem to be abandoned, all of them silent and dark, while the ones further out on the water are well-lit and seemingly full. A chill passes over you as you remember that half of Wallmire's population has been decimated by whatever's been terrorizing it every night. You wonder if the people on the shore were taken first. Cyril and Surya break into a run as soon as the lights of the village come into view, darting up a footpath and onto the first of the stilted wooden walkways arching over the water. You follow as they cry out, "<i>Mom! Zaza!</i> We're back, where are you?" Curiously, at first, no one answers their cries. You see lights on in the stolid houses that you pass, even some movement at the windows—but no one peeks outside or opens their doors. Only eerie, unrelenting silence greets the children's cries. Your stomach knots as you follow the twins deeper and deeper into Wallmire. <<nobr>><<if ($blade gt $trouble and $blade gt $chase) and $blade gt $red>> Blade puts a hand on his sword. <<elseif ($trouble gt $chase and $trouble gt $blade) and $trouble gt $red>> Trouble puts a hand on his gun. <<elseif ($red gt $chase and $red gt $trouble) and $red gt $blade>> Red puts a hand on his warhammer. <<else>> Chase puts a casual hand on his gun. <</if>><</nobr>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "ghostly7lighti">><</link>></center>

Finally, they lead you to the one of the largest houses you've seen so far, centrally located and positioned around some kind of makeshift town square, where all of the wooden walkways seem to converge. Cyril runs up to the door of this house and jiggles the sturdy wooden knob—then suddenly turns to his sister, looking stricken. The windows of the house are dark. "It's locked," he whispers. Surya frowns, and beneath the veneer of toughness and defiance, you can see something a little like panic beginning to enter her eyes. She approaches the door and knocks loudly, raising her voice. "Mom? Zaza? It's us! It's Surya and Cyril!" No answer. You think you hear a thump within the depths of the house… but nothing more. Surya jiggles the knob again, becoming more frantic. "Really, it's us! I can prove it! Um—Cy's favorite meal is Mom's catfish stew, but I hate the bones, so I used to put all of the pieces in his bowl when you weren't looking…" There's something like a broken, muffled sob from behind the door. Someone else groans, "<i>No, no…</i>" Cyril and Surya look at each other, alarmed. Their knocks increase in intensity. "Please, open the door, you'll see! It's just us! And we've brought people—Shepherds—" Beside you, Trouble shifts, his boots creaking with the movement; he looks very uneasy. Cyril looks back at you, eyes wide and frantic, just as his sister kicks the door in frustration. "Let us in!" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Step forward and raise your voice. "Hello? Is anybody there?"' 'theres7pause'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Knock on the door authoritatively. "Open up. It\'s the Shepherds."' 'theres7pause'>><<setloyal +5>><<setcourage +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Comfort Cyril and Surya. "It\'s all right. Don\'t panic; we\'ll figure this out."' 'theres7pause'>><<setcompassionate +5>><<setcharisma +1>><<set $wallmire += 5>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'You\'re getting tired of this. "Open this door right now, or we\'re breaking in."' 'theres7pause'>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setcourage +1>><<set $wallmire -= 5>><</link>></li> </ul>

There's a pause. And then—movement at the window just left of the door. A sliver of an olive-skinned face stares at you, slack-jawed with fear and surprise. The person within cries out and scrabbles for the door. "<i>Cyril! Surya!</i>" The door is flung open, and two adults topple through the doorway, scooping up the children in their arms, babbling: "My darlings, my loves, we didn't know, we didn't know it was <i>you</i>—" The children kick up a kind of relieved wail, and the four of them all collapse together on the doorstep in a tangle of limbs, sobbing and clutching at each other and giddy with relief and gratitude. Chase, watching the events with a nonchalant, patient smile, glances sidelong at you. "What the fuck is going on?" he mutters out of the corner of his mouth. You shake your head at him and shrug. You have no idea. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "theres7pausei">><</link>></center>

When things have calmed down, Cyril and Surya's parents invite you into their home, a humble but spacious longhouse with simple carved furniture and what looks to be several rooms: the parents' bedroom, Cyril and Surya's bedroom, a guest bedroom, a kitchen, and a living room. All of the house's humble hearths lay dark and empty, and the adults hasten to make a fire and light some lamps, casting everything in an eerie, flickering glow. "My name is Saranae," the mother says, hastily wiping her tears away. She's a tall, willowy woman with broad shoulders, long brown hair that stretches down to her waist in lively curls—almost like they're living vines—a long, thin nose, and a full, expressive mouth. "I'm the <i>heguman</i> of this village—the mayor or mayoress, so to speak. This is my spouse, Wren, Wallmire's <i>gothi</i>—the sheriff or lawkeeper." Wren nods and shakes your hands. Xe's shorter than Saranae by a fair bit, stocky and strong-looking, with a stern expression, slanted green eyes, and slightly elfin features, sporting an upturned nose and cropped auburn hair. "Thank you for returning our children home safely," xe says in a grave, melodious voice—you can see how xe got xer name, because xe sounds almost like a songbird. Blade inclines his head; he's remained standing while the others have taken seats around the longhouse, scanning your surroundings like he's wary of something jumping out at you from the shadows. He declines a mug of spiced cider when Cyril comes around with a tray, though Trouble grabs for it and drinks it down greedily. "We would like to know why your children were out in the marsh in the first place," your commander says in his clipped way. "We found them in dire circumstances. And I take it that you were the one who wrote the original missive to the Shepherds? Why didn't your messenger stay to show us the way?" Saranae and Wren glance at each other. They don't seem to know what to say, and after a moment passes, Blade says in a very hard tone: "I've lost three teams already to this swamp, so the least we're owed is answers. If you want our help in this matter, it would be in your best interest to start talking. <b>Now.</b>" Red winces, but the implied threat does its job: Saranae sighs and begins her explanation. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "theres7pauseii">><</link>></center>

"It started months ago," she begins haltingly. "The Terror. Overnight, people would vanish from their homes. One after the other. We tried to set watches, patrols, but those people would disappear in the night, too. Then we gathered families in the center of town, abandoning the houses that lay on the outskirts. More safety in numbers, we thought. And it worked, for a while…" She trails off for a moment, then glances around for Cyril and Surya, who have gone to wash up in their room. "…And then the bodies began appearing." Whatever 'the Terror' was, she explains, it began leaving the corpses of the vanished townsfolk around Wallmire, usually arranged in gruesome effigies and bloody arrangements. Most had had their necks broken or their throats slit. All wore expressions of unadulterated terror. "People panicked," Wren puts in grimly. "We had barely been holding it together before, but when their loved ones began showing up as <i>displays</i>, when the thing started <i>taunting</i> us? We couldn't keep them together. There was safety in numbers, we tried to tell them. Consolidating households seemed to work. But people became convinced that it was only making it easy for the Terror, gathering ourselves in a few, easy-to-access places. That it was only a matter of time before whole households began vanishing overnight. So they tried to leave." "And none of them ever came back," Saranae whispers. "Or, as far as we know, even made it out. They would have sent help, or sent word back, or <i>something</i>—but no one ever did. So whatever the Terror is, it's capable of keeping us here. Of making sure that we never leave the swamp." "And you never saw this Terror?" you ask. "Does anyone know what it looks like?" Saranae shakes her head. "Not once," she says. "People only vanish, then show up again—dead. We don't even know what's taking them. What's killing them. Or how." "Sounds like demon-work to me," Trouble murmurs. "Maybe it's feeding off of their fear." "Like Quiial," Red says. "Trapping people in sleep, leeching the terror from their nightmares and growing strong from it. That <i>is</i> the methodology of the Endarkened. This could very well be something like that." Blade waves for silence. "What else can you tell us?" Saranae sighs and shakes her head. "Not much else," she says regretfully. "This thing is patient and vengeful. It used to claim a new soul each night, though since we've been holing up together, that's decreased to once every few nights. Still—it's taken at least half the town." "What about your messenger?" Blade asks. "We know at least one person was able to make it out and get as far as Caprona; that's why we're here." Saranae and Wren exchange looks. "That might have been Chivon," Wren says softly. "One of my deputies. The toughest and most headstrong warrior among us. We dispatched her after a team of messengers failed to break through, and their bodies showed up in the marsh some days later. Chivon could always travel the fastest and farthest, so we sent her next. But…" "But she was always wary of the outside," Saranae cuts in. "Many of the people here are: we've only ever lived in Wallmire, and most have never left the Bleakmoor, not for their entire lives. Many from our community find the outside world… overwhelming. Paralyzing. Perhaps, once she'd delivered the message, Chivon felt compelled to return home." "Straight back into the arms of death?" Trouble asks bluntly. "I get how the outside might be overwhelming, but surely she'd have been glad to be out of danger?" "She also has a wife," Saranae says sadly. "She was loath to leave her, and eager to come back and ensure her safety. Once she did her duty and knew help was on the way, perhaps all she wanted was to get home and make sure Wallmire was still standing. I know I'd be terrified it wasn't, if I were her." <<nobr>><<if $cunning gte 70>> <br><br> You exchange looks with the others. There is more to this story, but now doesn't seem like the time to probe. Their pain is still raw and palpable. <</if>><</nobr>> "I take it that she didn't make it back?" Red asks gently. Wren's face contorts into a terrible expression of grief. "No," xe says, xer voice cracked and brittle. "We didn't even know she had made it out, until you arrived." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "theres7pauseiii">><</link>></center>

"You said you lost three other teams already?" Saranae asks Blade then. He blinks, very slowly. "Yes," he says, his face unreadable. "As with your people, it seems they never made it this far in. Something… stopped them." "It's like an invisible boundary encircles this place," Red muses. "Keeps the villagers trapped inside, then eliminates external help and prevents them from penetrating the line from the outside. What could do something like that?" "Magic?" Chase offers. "Like a ward?" <<nobr>><<if $magic gte 50 and $intelligence gte 65>> You and Red shake your heads. "To cover a vast area like the Bleakmoor, you would need an army of Mages to set a ward like that," you say. "And even then, it probably wouldn't work that way." <br><br> "And even if it were something like a ward, or any powerful spell, one of us would have been able to sense it," Red agrees. "No, I don't think it's that." <<else>> Red shakes his head. "If it were magic, one of us would have been able to sense it," he says. "No, I don't think it's that—unless it's some sort of Endarkened magic that would slip past our senses." <</if>><</nobr>> <<nobr>><<if $heritage is "Elf">> <br><br> You think back to stories you used to hear, about how the Elves had invisible borders in their forests to keep intruders from finding their hidden cities, confusing them and getting them hopelessly lost. "I know the Elves had waystones, markers and small magics that could confound outsiders and trap them in labyrinths of illusion until border patrols picked them up, back before the Castigation—but this doesn't sound like that, either." <</if>><</nobr>> "That begs another question," Trouble interjects. "If this thing has been so effective at nabbing villagers and snatching the Shepherds we already sent to help—why didn't it get <i>us</i>?" "Maybe we're just that good," Chase says lightly. But the joke falls flat in the heavy atmosphere of the room. The bags under Wren and Saranae's eyes are very dark, so that their faces almost look like eyeless skulls in the feeble lamp-glow. In the other room, Cyril and Surya bicker about something briefly, then fall silent. "There is something else," Wren says slowly. "Well, two things. The first is that a—a <i>stranger</i> has appeared, not too far from town. She's staying in some old ruins, claims to be some kind of traveler. How she's eluded the Terror so far, we're not sure. She <i>seems</i> harmless—in fact, I think she might be blind, or a little mad, or something like that—but… I don't know. Maybe she has something to do with all of this." "<i>I</i> don't think she does, but we can't rule it out," Saranae puts in. Her spouse shrugs in apparent agreement. "And her arrival predates yours by only a few days. Maybe the Terror has been… preoccupied with her. That could explain why it didn't notice your presence when you were forging your way in. In fact, <i>no one's</i> been taken since she showed up. Perhaps that means something?" "You didn't get her to come to town?" Trouble asks, sounding galled. "She's just out there, all by herself?" Wren's expression deepens into a glare. "We don't know her," xe insists. "We gave her food, tried to warn her—but she could have been the Terror itself! We didn't know." "When did you last see her?" Blade asks. Wren shakes xer head. "Two days ago." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"She might already be dead, then."' 'blade7nods'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"We need to go talk to her."' 'blade7nods'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"The timing is suspect. We should be careful."' 'blade7nods'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Blade nods. "We'll find her in the morning, if she's still there. What was the other thing you wanted to say?" Saranae blows out a breath and covers her face with her tanned, weathered hands. Wren places xer own hand on her shoulder and says, "Yesterday, I was tallying up a count of our dead, recording it all for our logbook. It was… it was the first time I've had to do that. The numbers are staggering. When it happens one at a time, you begin to forget how many you started out with…" Xe shuts xer eyes briefly, then continues. "But while I was tallying, I noticed something… unusual. I told it to Saranae, and Cyril and Surya must have heard us. That's why they… ran off." Xer face quivers. "They thought they were helping. But we thought they'd been taken by the Terror, and that it was taunting us with their likenesses, their voices. Torturing us. That's why we didn't open the door—not until we heard you. It wouldn't have bothered to imitate voices we didn't know." "What did Cyril and Surya overhear?" Chase asks curiously. Saranae chews a ragged nail on her thumb, then stops, letting her hand fall into her lap. "It's the children," she says. "The Terror has never once claimed a child: in fact, it seems to prefer the oldest among us. The majority of the victims taken have been elders, and almost all are people older than forty. While some younger ones have been taken—Wren's deputies, what few warriors or watchmen we had…" She shakes her head. "For some reason, the children have always been spared." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "so7cyril">><</link>></center>

"So Cyril and Surya thought they had a chance of getting out," you say, putting it all together. "They heard you talking about it and thought that children their age might be safe, and that they could be the ones to get help from outside." "Brave, stupid little darlings," Saranae whispers. She angrily dashes another tear from her eye. "When we found them gone, we… I thought…" She shakes her head. "I'll never forgive the fact that they were able to get away from us like that, in this time of utter danger. It's our job to protect them. And if you hadn't shown up…" She looks fiercely to Wren, who nods in agreement. "We would have lost our children, if not for you. For that alone, we owe you <i>everything</i>." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Don\'t be so hard on yourselves. It all turned out well in the end."' 'theroom'>><<setcompassionate +5>><<set $wallmire += 5>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Yeah, it could have been really bad. I\'m glad we showed up when we did."' 'theroom'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You\'re right, you should have kept them better-guarded. If they could get away from you, the Terror could find its way in."' 'theroom'>><<setcompassionate -5>><<fair_plus "$cunning" +10>><</link>></li> <<if $cunning gte 70 and $compassionate lt 50>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I hope you\'ll keep that debt in mind as we investigate. We\'ve risked a lot to come and help you, so I hope you won\'t forget that."</div>' 'theroom'>><<fair_plus "$compassionate" -10>><<fair_plus "$cunning" +20>><<set $wallmire += 5>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">"I hope you\'ll keep that debt in mind as we investigate. We\'ve risked a lot to come and help you, so I hope you won\'t forget that."</div>'>><</link>><</if>> </ul>

The two of them both nod. "Well, it's almost dawn," Saranae says, glancing at an hourglass on her mantle: ominously, the grains of sand seem to track the duration of night and day, something you've never seen before. "I think we're safe for tonight—especially with you here. And you must be tired from your long journey." "Cyril and Surya will sleep in our room," Wren says decisively. "That leaves two beds in their room, two beds in the guest room, and the couch. You can decide whatever arrangement you like, of course." Blade frowns, and Red says, almost as if you're visiting friends for a party and had a little too much to drink: "Oh, I don't think we could impose… Is there an inn in town that we can stay in?" Almost immediately, you spear him with a look; he looks like he wants to kick himself. Wallmire is a closed society: of course it wouldn't have an inn to host travelers. Outsiders are hardly allowed to come here in the first place. Saranae says, civilly enough, "Guests of the village stay at the <i>heguman's</i> house; it's why our house is so much larger than the others. Please. It's my duty as the leader of Wallmire to host you. There isn't really room for you anywhere else." "And it would be safer if you stayed with us, anyway," Wren adds. But hanging in the air between you is the unspoken question: safer for you, or safer for them? It's Blade who makes the final decision. "Fine," he says brusquely, straightening; you realize now that you haven't even had a chance to hang up your wet and muddy cloaks or actually get dry. Sleeping somewhere with an actual roof over your head <i>does</i> sound nice. "We'll stay here and use it as our headquarters during our investigation. In the morning, when it's light out, we'll go and see the traveler in the ruins, as well as look around the village and question the townsfolk. Perhaps we can even shore up Wallmire's defenses." You all nod. "Who sleeps in what room?" Chase asks, stretching his hands over his head until his spine pops. Wren and Saranae depart to find you blankets and towels. <ul class="choices"> <<if $bladehate is false>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Blade and I can share a room."</div>' 'bladesroom'>><<setblade +3>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 20>><<set $bladeromanceflag += 1>><</if>><<if $chasesex is true or $chaseromanceflag gte 10>><<set $chaseromanceflag -= 5>><</if>><<if $troubleromanceflag gte 20>><<set $troubleromanceflag -= 3>><</if>><<if $redromanceflag gte 15>><<set $redromanceflag -= 3>><</if>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">"Blade and I can share a room."</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $troublehate is false>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Trouble and I can share a room."</div>' 'troublesroom'>><<settrouble +3>><<if $troubleromanceflag gte 20>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 1>><</if>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 10>><<set $bladeromanceflag -= 5>><</if>><<if $chasesex is true or $chaseromanceflag gte 20>><<set $chaseromanceflag -= 5>><</if>><<if $redromanceflag gte 10>><<set $redromanceflag -= 1>><</if>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">"Trouble and I can share a room."</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $redhate is false>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Red and I can share a room."</div>' 'redsroom'>><<setred +3>><<if $redromanceflag gte 20>><<set $redromanceflag += 2>><</if>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 10>><<set $bladeromanceflag -= 10>><</if>><<if $chasesex is true or $chaseromanceflag gte 20>><<set $chaseromanceflag -= 5>><</if>><<if $troubleromanceflag gte 10>><<set $redromanceflag -= 1>><</if>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">"Red and I can share a room."</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $chasehate is false>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Chase and I can share a room."</div>' 'chasesroom'>><<set $chaseroom to true>><<setchase +3>><<if $chasesex is true and $chaseromanceflag gte 20>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 2>><</if>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 10 and $chasesex is true>><<set $bladeromanceflag -= 10>><</if>><<if $troubleromanceflag gte 10 and $chasesex is true>><<set $troubleromanceflag -= 1>><</if>><<if $redromanceflag gte 10 and $chasesex is true>><<set $redromanceflag -= 1>><</if>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">"Chase and I can share a room."</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link '"I\'ll take the couch."' 'ill7take'>><</link>></li> </ul>

<<nobr>><<if $trouble gte 70 or $troubleromanceflag gte 10>> "You sure, <<c firstname>>?" Trouble asks, his brow furrowing. "I can take it." <br><br> You shake your head. "It's fine; I've already called it. You all can figure out how you're going to share the rooms." <br><br> <</if>><</nobr>> "Well, Blade and Red are the tallest," Trouble says, looking at the two of them askance. "So it seems fair that they take the guest room, and me and Chase can make do with the kids' room." Chase shrugs. "I've slept in worse places than a kid's bed. I'm sure you have, too, Trubs." "Yeah, I don't mind." Blade and Red look incredibly discomforted by this prospect. "Ah, it's all right," Red begins with an easy laugh, "I'm used to having my feet hang off the bed in any case. Trouble, you should take the other guest bed… You're the Vice-Commander, after all." The sharpshooter waves him off, oblivious. "Ah, I don't give a shit. State I'm in, I'm going to pass out as soon as I shut my eyes, anyway. 'Night." <<nobr>><<if $trouble gte 70 or $troubleromanceflag gte 10>> With a fond smile at you and a pat on your back, he makes his way towards the back bedroom. <<else>> He makes his way towards the back bedroom, stretching his arms over his head and yawning dramatically. <</if>><</nobr>> Chase follows with his hands in his pockets, humming to himself as he slinks out of the room (you think he might be concealing a wild grin, but you can't be sure). Blade and Red are left standing in resounding silence. "Well," you state after a moment, puncturing the tense, awkward quiet, "good night…" With a dark look, Blade turns on his heel and silently exits the room. Red, looking faintly despairing, follows after, mumbling good night, and shortly thereafter, Wren and Saranae return with blankets and a pillow. After they retire to their room and shut the door, you peel off your soggy clothes, wash up in the tiny wash closet, and then toss yourself onto the couch. You're asleep before your head even hits the pillow. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "breakfastinwallmirei">><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<if $chasesex is true and $chaseromanceflag gte 22>> Despite everything, the corners of Chase's mouth curl upward in a small, self-satisfied grin. "Ah, $nickname, you're going to make the others jealous," he practically purrs. "Do I really get you all to myself?" The others all throw him looks of loathing and disgust. <br><br> You suppress a smile. "I suppose that leaves the other room to—?" <<else>> Despite everything, the corner of Chase's mouth twitches upward in a quiet smile. "Knew you'd choose me," he says with a wink. "I suppose that leaves the other room to—?" <</if>><</nobr>> "Blade and Trouble, I'd think," Red says. "They're the officers of rank, so they should get the guest room. I'm fine on the couch. Crashed in living rooms plenty of times in my life." Trouble shrugs and glances questioningly at Blade, who nods without expression. "Sounds good to me." With that, everyone bids each other good night, and you and Chase take your packs and make your way into the <i>heguman's</i> guest room. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "chasesroomi">><</link>></center>

Even knowing that Chase is lying awake doesn't deter you; you're exhausted from your arduous journey through the Bleakmoor and the night's nerve-wracking events. As soon as you allow your heavy lids to fall shut, warm and welcome darkness steals over you. You don't wake again until morning. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "breakfastinwallmirei">><</link>></center>

"For once, there are too many to name," Chase murmurs. He stirs a little. "Something about this place I don't trust, $nickname." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Answer sardonically. "What gave it away? The murder, the horrific swamp creatures, or something else?"' 'answer7sardonically'>><<setchase +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Answer sincerely. "What do you mean?"' 'answer7sincerely'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Answer indifferently. "Can\'t this wait until morning?"' 'answer7indifferently'>><<fair_plus "$chase" -10>><<set $chaseromanceflag -= 1>><</link>></li> </ul>

"Something else, actually," he answers, almost too distracted to respond to your sarcasm with a quip of his own. <<include "talkychase">>

"I can't exactly put my finger on it, but… something doesn't add up. I've always had a nose for liars, and right now, something stinks." You prop yourself up on your elbow. "You think Saranae and Wren are lying about something?" Chase shrugs vaguely. "Maybe not them, specifically, but the whole situation feels… off. The story, or the town…" He trails off for a moment, deep in thought, before he visibly seems to realize that he's thinking about the whole thing much harder than he usually does and shakes it off. Chase rarely likes to give the appearance that he's exerting himself over anything: he claims that it's simply better to leave it to minds much sharper than his, but you've privately decided that it's simply because he doesn't want people thinking he's responsible or dependable in any way. Yet somehow, when left to his own devices, his success rates on missions—even solo ones—are among the best in the Order… even if they're accomplished in an extremely unorthodox and slapdash way. "Anyway," he says breezily, skirting over the matter, "enough of that kind of talk. We can leave it to chew on in the morning." <<include "chasechat">>

Chase continues to stare up at the ceiling. <<include "talkychase">>

Chase sends you a lazy, half-formed smile. "Sorry," he says lightly. "Didn't realize I was keeping you up. You go ahead and rest up, then." <<include "sorrychasenotalky">>

From his tone, it's clear that he wants to change the subject, but still continue talking. Even after all you've been through, it seems he never runs out of his energy—or his willingness to chat even late into the night. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"How\'s the Thieves Guild faring?"' 'hows7thieves'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"How do you normally gather information, in these types of scenarios?"' 'how7gather'>><</link>></li> <<if $chaseread is true>><li><<link '"How is your reading coming along? Where are you at in your latest assignment?"' 'how7reading'>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link '"You said you were entertaining other thoughts. What else are you thinking about?"' 'you7entertaining'>><</link>></li> </ul>

<<nobr>><<if $chasetime lt 3>>"Ah, it's complicated," Chase says mildly, continuing to gaze up at the ceiling. "By and large, you could say we're thriving. I know for a fact that most of the thieves are happier. Few actively choose to be criminals out of mere desire or wickedness, you know: it's usually desperation or jadedness or apathy that drives them. But take the <i>need</i> to resort to thieving away—in other words, give us a sure roof over our heads, food, a salary, that kind of thing—and the majority are very happy to apply their particular set of skills towards something meaningful and helpful, like Shepherd work, rather than stealing and conning people. There are some who still miss that particular thrill, of course, but by and large, our lot has improved. We're not always looking over our shoulders for the Vice Guard—or some rival gang—to get the jump on us, we're not worrying about having five different hideouts to scatter to should the next job go wrong, we're not thinking about the cold or running out of food or equipment by winter's end, or having to plan out yet another heist to feed all of our mouths. In fact, sometimes I worry we're going to end up fat and pampered as lapdogs, working with you all." <br><br> You smile. "So what's the problem?" <br><br> "Well…" Chase scratches his cheek, one of his crossed legs bouncing. "It's complicated. You know we thieves never outright admitted to joining the Shepherds, right? We submitted false names and papers to the Autarch's registries when we joined, so we wouldn't be flagged in the system for prior arrests and warrants, that kind of thing—so the Autarch and the government think we're just a crop of new recruits, just like any other. And to the criminal underworld of Haven, they all still think we're <i>around</i>. They have to, because if Thieves Guild isn't around to put the fear of God into young upstart thugs and the more unscrupulous kingpins, the whole system collapses. Power vacuum. It becomes lawless anarchy in Haven without us." He looks wry at your expression. "I wasn't joking when I said that Thieves Guild actually maintains more order than you think. Other criminals start moving in our turf, or breaking our laws in ways that we can't abide by, and we'll deal with them with a far harder hand than even the Vice Guard tends to. So they know to keep to their little corners of the city and lay low. If they get to thinking we've disbanded, or we're not paying attention, they start toeing the line, fighting each other for new territory… and then it's chaos." <br><br> He shakes his head. "So we still have to maintain the appearance that Thieves Guild is around, and watching, <i>on top</i> of our actual Shepherd work. Other parts of our network think we've gone to ground after the whole Black Sun affair, moved to a hideout that no one's been able to uncover yet; and for the most part, the illusion has been maintained. We do a few token heists and cons, and sometimes even set up fake robberies here and there, to keep up appearances. Blade turns a blind eye, because he's a Shepherd, after all: he's only after Endarkened and supernatural crime, and mundane theft doesn't fall under his jurisdiction. So long as the Vice Guard never figures it out—and they won't—and we don't cross the line, he doesn't care to concern himself with it: our value and skills outweigh our risks. Plus, Mr. Lifelong Assassin would be a bit of a hypocrite to condemn us for indulging in the occasional illegal activity, no?" He grins a little—but then the smile fades. "And, largely, the balance we've struck is manageable. It vents out any tension for the people who sometimes miss thieving, like Ari, and it keeps the rest of the city's underworld tame and pliable. But I've got to wonder how long we can keep straddling two worlds. We can't exactly take on new recruits in our state, not without blowing the whole story wide open, so if we lose any of our own, our ranks will begin to dwindle over time. And one day, we're going to be Thieves Guild only in name, Shepherds in actual deed, and then…" He pauses. "Well, I don't know what will happen then." <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "hows7thievesi">><</link>></center> <<else>> "Ah, it's fine," Chase says carelessly. "The thieves themselves are happy, as far as I can tell. Give them a roof over their heads, food, a salary, and they're happier to put their skills towards something useful and productive than they are living as criminals who always have to look over their shoulders. I think we all realized that when we were trying to put an end to Black Sun, as much as we tried to pretend we were only doing it for profit's sake." He pauses. "More and more people are starting to hear the rumors of what we've done, though. Not the Vice Guard or the Autarchy—we all joined under false names with false papers, so it all looks above-board to <i>them</i>—but the other parts of the underworld who are used to seeing us more active. <i>They're</i> starting to suspect something's up. I think the Parmercy affair bought us some time, though: our rivals have a hard time believing a Shepherd captain would have done what I did to his face." <br><br> A dark and ominous pause lingers in the air for a moment at that, despite his casual tone. Then he continues mildly, "Heth Macoll Guild's stirring some trouble up, I think. I should have known calling in that favor with them and the gladiator's arena would have tipped them off." <br><br> He doesn't look at you as he says it, but the memory still jolts you: that blue-haired thief, Ven, leading you to the gladiators' arena and making some pointed mention of Chase going soft… <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"They aren\'t making trouble for you, are they?"' 'they7arent'>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setloyal +1>><</link>></li> <<if $courage gte 50 and $chase gte 70>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"If they try and mess with you, they\'ll have to go through me first."</div>' 'if7tthey'>><<setloyal +1>><<setcourage +1>><<setchase +3>><<if $chaseromanceflag gte 20 and $chasesex is true>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">"If they try and mess with you, they\'ll have to go through me first."</div>'>><</link>><</if>> </ul> <</if>><</nobr>>

After a moment of significant silence, he adds, a bit too airily: "Plus, the information's got to come out sometime. Back when we went to Capra and you and Blade went on to the Reach, I headed for Sacor City, do you remember? I was strengthening our ties with our sister-guild there, keeping our lines of communication open. Most of the criminals in Haven are still unaware of our change in status, but the Thieves Guilds in other cities—who have dedicated spy networks—are beginning to get wind of it. Like the one in Heth Macoll." He doesn't look at you as he says it, but the memory still jolts you: that blue-haired thief, Ven, leading you to the gladiators' arena and making some pointed mention of Chase going soft… <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"They aren\'t making trouble for you, are they?"' 'they7arent'>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setloyal +1>><</link>></li> <<if $courage gte 50 and $chase gte 70>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"If they try and mess with you, they\'ll have to go through me first."</div>' 'if7tthey'>><<setloyal +1>><<setcourage +1>><<setchase +3>><<if $chaseromanceflag gte 20 and $chasesex is true>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">"If they try and mess with you, they\'ll have to go through me first."</div>'>><</link>><</if>> </ul>

Chase makes a soft sound, gives a light shrug. "Not directly. Their leader and I are… <i>civil</i>, but there are some among their ranks who are pushing for my replacement. It would benefit their guild if they were allied with a Haven puppet-leader they could control from afar. I am not very predictable, even to other thieves. So they might encourage some newcomers in Haven to challenge me for the right to rule, thinking me distracted by my duties as a Shepherd. If I win, nothing is really lost. If <i>they</i> win, the other Guilds gain a foothold in my city and an inexperienced fledgling leader to exploit and manipulate." <<include "venmen">>

Ven mentioned something like that, too. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Would your thieves obey a new leader, if you were defeated?"' 'would7your'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Is that always how leadership is acquired, among the Thieves Guilds?"' 'is7always'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Did you ever have to deal with such upstarts before you joined the Shepherds?"' 'have7you'>><</link>></li> </ul>

"Oh, I couldn't rightly say," Chase says carelessly. "There are some newer ones whose loyalties might be swayed, but the rest have been with me for years. I imagine they'd leave the guild, or throw themselves deeper into the Shepherds, and the new leader would have to start recruiting from scratch." There's a long, long pause, so drawn out that it gives you time to realize that he's staring sightlessly up at the ceiling—and that he never made a quip about how he could never be defeated, as he should have done. <i>You wound me, $nickname</i>, he should have said. <i>As if <b>I</b> could be outgunned by some pale imitation, some amateur. </i> Instead, Chase only smiles a very brittle, bitter smile, the expression transforming his face into something angular and jaded—just for a brief moment. "Of course," he acknowledges quietly to the ceiling, "you can never really tell for sure. No honor among thieves, and all." Then he laughs, and the moment passes, so swiftly that it's like the shadow of a cloud flitting past the moon. By the next minute, it's completely out of sight, and you think you must have imagined it. <<include "chattychase">>

"Well, there are two ways," Chase answers easily. "The first is by force, and that's recognized as legitimate. You kill the old leader, most members won't have much qualm about following you: you've already proved your worth and mettle, after all. But for those few leaders who make it to a peaceful retirement, and wish to exit the game gracefully, they'll usually designate successors from among their own ranks, train them for a year or two, and then take off. Most of the time that's a much more desirable transition, for all parties involved." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Which way did you become leader, then?"' 'which7way'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"And have you thought of who you would name as your successor?"' 'and7have'>><</link>></li> </ul>

<<nobr>><<if ($chaseromanceflag gte 20 and $chasesex is true) or ($highestfriendship is "chase" and $chase gte 70)>> "Both," Chase says after a moment, and his tone is completely unreadable to you, his expression hidden by the dark. <<else>> "Both," Chase says cheerfully. <</if>><</nobr>> Then he changes the subject and begins discussing unrelated things in an entirely light-hearted manner. You sigh to yourself. <<include "slithererouter">>

Wrestling any kind of meaningful information about himself out of Chase is always a labyrinthine, dizzying effort. Briony aptly calls him a "top-rate slitherer-outer," excellent at deflecting or slithering out of questions and situations he finds inconvenient. The harder you try to nail him down, the more expertly he seems to slip out of your hold. But it's clear that this topic is a touchy subject for him, so you decide to let it go. For the moment. <<include "chattychase">>

<<nobr>><<if $chaseromanceflag gte 20 and $chasesex is true>> "If you're after my title, darling, you'll have to try harder than that," Chase says languidly. "Much as I think <i>you</i> would make a very fetching seat upon my throne, there'd be outright revolt if I gave Thieves Guild over to you." <br><br> You start to laugh. "That's not what I—" <br><br> "Of course," he continues with a smirk, "there <i>is</i> something to be said if all this is simply part of your plan to seduce me into giving you my power. <i>That's</i> thief-lord material right there. Truly conniving stuff. Where'd you learn your tricks? And who sent you over to beguile me?" <br><br> You can't help but laugh. And just like that, he changes the subject to more light-hearted topics. <br><br> <<include "slithererouter">> <<else>> "Nope," Chase says cheerfully. "Haven't thought that far ahead. I believe myself to be immortal, and I lack the brain capacity to consider otherwise." <br><br> You start to laugh. "You haven't even planned for the possibility?" <br><br> "<<c nickname>>, I can barely commit to the idea of breakfast. Sometimes I think it would be funny to sign the whole thing over to Riel, just for a laugh. But then I think about how absolutely terrifying he would be with a criminal syndicate under his control, and suddenly it doesn't seem like such a lark." <br><br> And just like that, he changes the subject to more light-hearted topics. <br><br> You can't help but sigh. <<include "slithererouter">> <</if>><</nobr>>

"Oh, here and there," Chase says carelessly. "Every few years some optimistic young cockerel will get the bright idea to show up at our hideout, waving a gun around and claiming that they can do far better." "What do you do to them?" you <<nobr>><<if $chasetime gte 3>>ask, thinking of Parmercy. <<else>> ask. <</if>><</nobr>> He laughs a little. "Usually I settle for humiliating them so thoroughly that they don't dare show their face in the city again, and they disappear into the annals of insignificance." Then he sobers slightly. "But that isn't always enough. Sometimes, they're a little more dangerous than I'd like to admit. Or they catch me in a bad mood. Then…" Meaningfully, he draws a finger across his throat with a soft <i>snick</i>ing sound. "The Prince of Thieves can't always afford to play nice." Silence falls between you at that. You have no trouble believing it, either. Most of the time, Chase acts as nonchalant and smiling as a cat, fluidly allowing life to take him where it wants. But other times… there's a dagger-sharp edge, a ruthlessness, a cold unblinking look in his eyes that reminds you exactly how he came to claim the throne of Haven's criminal underworld—<i>and</i> how he kept it all these years. Chase stirs, as if visibly shaking off the sobering mood. "Well, now, enough of that," he says pleasantly. "I've had enough of scary stories for one evening. Why don't we discuss something more pleasant?" <<nobr>><<if $chasesex is true and $chaseromanceflag gte 20>> <br><br> You eye him sidelong. "Like what?" <br><br> "Like how exactly you think you're going to resist my charms while we spend an entire night alone in this room together." <br><br> "Oh, trust me," you say, playing along with his game, "it will be incredibly easy. You're not difficult to ignore, thief-lord." <br><br> "You're a beautiful liar, $nickname," Chase answers, mock-dreamily. "I saw you making eyes at me when you thought my back was turned. Your every dirty thought was printed right on your face." <br><br> You sit up indignantly. "You did not see me!" It's not possible! <br><br> "A<i>ha</i>. No, I didn't, but your reaction tells me everything I needed to know." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "chattychase">>

Chase grants you a sidelong, surprisingly soft smile. "I appreciate the thought, $nickname," he says, a note of warmth to his tone. <<nobr>><<if ($chaseromanceflag gte 25 and $chasesex is true) and $chaseharden gt 0>> Still, his smile doesn't quite reach his eyes; there's a slightly cool, remote look to them, as if he's masking a sudden anger. "Still, I'd prefer you stay out of it. If anything happened to you on my behalf, I don't think I could stomach it. Let me deal with Thieves' Guild business: whatever happens to me, at least, will be whatever I deserve. I don't want you involved." Then he looks away. <</if>><</nobr>> "But I don't think you need to worry. No one's made any moves yet. The worst they'll do is encourage some newcomers and upstarts in Haven to challenge me for my right to rule, thinking me distracted by my duties as a Shepherd. It might benefit their guilds to have a leader in Haven that they can control from afar, you see." <<include "venmen">>

Chase is considered the de-facto spymaster of the Shepherds: teasing information out of people, whether they're reluctant or not, is part of his bread and butter. But Chase makes a small, thoughtful noise. "In <i>normal</i> situations, it's simple enough. You pick the right bar, the kind of place that sees all manner of seedy deals and under-the-table affairs, and then you get nice and friendly with one of the regulars there. Not a drunk, because they're too foggy to recall any details that would be useful, but someone who feels safe there, someone who goes there to watch what happens most evenings because they don't have much else better to do—or they do it for their own work. Then you ply them with drink, or coin, or cards, or pretty words, or whatever you think is going to float their fancy. They'll usually cough up something that will give you a place to start, at least." He scratches his cheek. "Don't think it's going to be that simple here. They don't have an inn, much less a bar, and there's that word Red keeps using—'closed community.' I don't think they're going to be open to… <i>being plied</i>, especially not by an outsider." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Knowing you, you\'ll charm them into compliance anyway."' 'knowing7you'>><<setchase +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Is this the strangest place you\'ve ever been, in your travels?"' 'is7this'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"So, if there isn\'t an option to talk to people, the other way to get information is to spy on them."' 'so7if'>><<setcunning +1>><<setchase +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

He grins at you sidelong. "So, you think I'm charming?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Scoff. "I said you\'d charm <i>them</i>, not me."' 'scoff7said'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Laugh. "Of course. Doesn\'t everybody?"' 'laugh7of'>><<setchase +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Roll your eyes. "Hardly."' 'roll7hardly'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Tease him. "Vanity is so unbecoming. You\'re always fishing for compliments!"' 'tease7him'>><<if $charisma gte 50>><<setchase +1>><</if>><</link>></li> </ul>

"You'll fall for one of my many beguiling qualities someday, $nickname," Chase wheedles. "I grow on people like moss on trees. You may not think it now, but there will come a time when you miss me sorely." Your amusement sharpens into muted alarm, but you strive not to show it in your tone. "Planning to leave us, Captain Trinaeste?" He smiles at you, cat-eyed. "I never plan for anything, <<c rank>> <<c surname>>. Just a manner of speaking." <<include "chattychase">>

"Careful, or I'll become even more insufferable and egotistical," Chase cautions with a laugh. "Well, it's true," you point out. "Even Blade likes you, even if it's hard to tell under all of that prickly annoyance." Chase's laugh turns loud and genuine. "I'm glad you think so, too—I <i>had</i> noticed his scowls getting a little less deadly, lately. I only regret that we had that little scuffle, just before we came across Cyril and Surya." "Yes," you comment, turning to him, "what <i>was</i> that all about, anyway?" Chase makes a vague, airy gesture with his hand. "Even I can't fully explain the workings of my mind, $nickname. When I get antsy, I get restless. When I get restless, I run my mouth. When I run my mouth, Blade gets annoyed. That's really all there is to it." He pauses. "But Spike and I are square now, I think. He hasn't had me flogged for insubordination, anyway." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Maybe he\'s just waiting for us to get home before he gives the orders."' 'maybe7hes'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Well, I\'m glad things worked out. It was looking a little tense there."' 'well7glad'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You keep using the word \'antsy,\' but—are you actually afraid of anything?"' 'you7keep'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Chase lets out another surprised, genuine laugh. "That's true. If he wanted to flog me, he couldn't very well do it here, could he? There's no flogging post. And who would he make do it? Red wouldn't have the stomach, and Trouble would likely refuse." "You know, of course, that that leaves me," you say amusedly. He catches your eye and grins. <<nobr>><<if $chaseromanceflag gte 20>> "And I know you'd never turn down the opportunity to whip me senseless," he purrs—but there's something of a wicked glint in his eye as he says it, beneath the humor. <<else>> "And we're such good friends, you'd never imagine raising a hand against me, would you?" <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "chattychase">>

"Oh, it would have never have come to blows, or anything as dramatic as all that," Chase says, flapping his hand. "I'm extremely conflict-adverse, you know." You're aware: Briony calls him a top-rate "slitherer-outer," an expert at deflecting or slithering out of situations he finds inconvenient or unpleasant. Still… <ul class="choices"> <<if ($courage gte 60 and $chaseromanceflag gte 20) and $chasesex is true>><li><<link '"Well, even if you weren\'t actually going to fight, I did find the whole scene a bit... scintillating."' 'well7even'>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link '"It didn\'t look like that to me."' 'it7didnt'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Chase's head shoots up like a hunting dog's when it hears something in nearby grass, and his eyebrows are high arches in his hairline. "<i>Well</i>, now," he says in a marveling tone. "So that's how it is, is it? That's what gets your windmill turning? I never would have guessed…" He trails off into ponderous silence for a moment. "Looks like I'll be getting into more bar fights from now on." You laugh. "Please, don't trouble yourself on my account." "Oh, no, $nickname, the cat's out of the bag. You like dangerous men—and here I thought being the Prince of Thieves was dangerous enough. Well, well, well… Tell me more about how you found yourself wildly attracted to me in that moment." <<include "chattychase">>

"Purely a defense mechanism," Chase says dismissively. "When I sense a fight coming on, I gear up for it. But assassin to assassin, even I know better than to test my luck with Blade." You do a double-take. "Wait, what?" "Whoops. Forget you ever heard that." Merrily, he suddenly and deftly changes the subject. "How do you think Red is faring with all of this, by the way? He was looking a bit winded and peaky by the time we stopped for the night." <<include "chattychase">>

It's a common joke around the Order that Chase seems to lack anything remotely resembling a fear reflex: he never seems to feel true terror, only mild apprehension or understandable nervousness about certain situations. He can stare down the barrel of an enemy gun without batting an eye, and treats most horrifying situations with a kind of slouching, unfazed insouciance that sometimes deeply confuses people. It's different from Blade's stoic, hardened demeanor, borne out of experience and a long history with combat, and it's different too from Trouble's brash, reckless courage or Tallys's composure under fire. His is a perpetually amused, unhurried lack of concern… but he has to be afraid of <i>something</i>, right? "Not a big fan of fire," Chase says blithely. "I mean, ask me to run into a burning building, and I'll do it. But I won't be very happy about it. Awful way to die, burning." "There must be something else," you say, a bit exasperated. "Sharks, heights, clowns, ghosts?" "Never seen one, but I think I could take it on: I'm good in the water. Very comfortable with heights. Chandry has the soul of a saint, I could never be afraid of him. And I don't believe in ghosts." "What about dying alone? That's a common one." Chase's face sobers a little. "Oh, I'm just the opposite," he says, a little somberly. "In my opinion, it's other people who are terrifying, not solitude." He chuckles before a heavy silence can drop over you, stilling the conversation to an awkward halt. "And what about you?" he asks then, smoothly navigating the topic into safer waters. "What are you most scared of, $nickname?" <<include "chattychase">>

"You will someday," Chase wheedles. "I grow on people like moss on trees, $nickname. You may not think it now, but there will come a time when you miss me sorely." Your amusement sharpens into muted alarm, but you strive not to show it in your tone. "Planning to leave us, Captain Trinaeste?" He smiles at you, cat-eyed. "I never plan for anything, <<c rank>> <<c surname>>. Just a manner of speaking." <<include "chattychase">>

<<nobr>><<if $chaseromanceflag gte 20>> "That's because having your regard is such a pleasure, sweetheart," Chase purrs. Despite his playful tone, however, you detect a note of genuine sincerity in it. But then he looks away, and the more jesting note returns. "And people so rarely praise me, you know. I'm very underappreciated." <<else>> "That's because people rarely praise me," Chase says, sticking out his lower lip in a mock-pout. "I have to trick them into it. I'm very underappreciated, you know." <</if>><</nobr>> You can't help but burst out into laughter. "Liar. Don't think I haven't heard about how many love letters you've had stuffed into your mailbox back home." Chase laughs, too. <<nobr>><<if $chasetime gte 1>> "The joke's on them. What good are love letters if I can't read them? <<else>> "The joke's on them. I'm not really the type to be wooed by ink and paper. <</if>><</nobr>> And don't talk to <i>me</i> about love letters, you filthy hypocrite. You're the one receiving the bulk of them, and the rest are distributed amongst the other captains as afterthoughts. This latest batch of recruits is hornier than a barrel of toads." <<include "chattychase">>

"Oh, no," Chase says, rolling onto his side to grin at you, his head propped up by his elbow. "That'd be the Floating District in Karzai." Floating districts are parts of a city—usually situated next to the theater district—dedicated to brothels, pleasure-houses, and flower-beds. "That place is a veritable hotbed of wickedness and madness. Possibly even too much for me." "What on earth were you doing there?" you ask. You're not even totally sure you want to know. Karzai is a city in the frozen North, a simmering, stinking cauldron of crime and evil magics. You can't even imagine what the Floating District would be like there. Probably nothing like Haven's tasteful, discreet white avenue in the Market Quarter. Chase shakes his head ruefully. "I was trying to rescuing a client's daughter, if you can believe it. It was before I became a thief, and I was taking on some… freelance jobs, not really caring what they were, so long as they paid well. But it turns out in Karzai, some people, especially courtesans, can wear these magical masks that steal other people's faces… apparently it's quite popular among their clientele. Anyway, it was thoroughly unnerving stuff, and I had a devil of a time trying to find that girl, who was working at one of the brothels. I felt like I was running through a fever-dream the entire time I was there." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"How did you end up joining Thieves Guild, if you were a mercenary beforehand?"' 'end7joining'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Why were you taking on freelance jobs?"' 'why7were'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Did you manage to rescue the daughter?"' 'did7manage'>><</link>></li> </ul>

"Ah, that's a story for another day," Chase says smoothly. "It starts with some thoret and me shooting a man in the kneecap, it was a whole ordeal. Anyway, what's the strangest place <i>you've</i> ever been?" You sigh. <<include "slithererouter">>

"Ah, I parted with my previous employer on bad terms," Chase says vaguely. "His estate wasn't happy with me, and their resources were vast, so I was forced to drift around for a while—the far-flung places were better, hence Karzai—and so jobs tended to get dropped in my lap in a very disorganized way." "His <i>estate</i>?" you repeat. Chase smiles, the look a little sharp in the moonlit stillness of the room. "Well, yes. I'd killed him, but sadly, I couldn't kill his whole empire as well." Then he navigates the subject to much safer waters. "And what's the strangest place <i>you've</i> ever been?" You sigh a little. <<include "slithererouter">>

Chase sighs. "Yes and no. I'd been given the impression that she'd been kidnapped and forced unwillingly into service in the brothels. When I found her, though, I was given an entirely different story, about how she'd fallen in love with a madame and was helping her new wife run their thriving business together. She ended up paying me handsomely to go away and tell my employer I couldn't find her. And then <i>he</i> ended up sending assassins after me, so I got out of Karzai right quick." Then he turns to you, curious. "What's the strangest place <i>you've</i> ever been? You must have seen many a bizarre thing on your own travels." <<include "chattychase">>

Chase makes a faint clicking sound with his tongue. "Right you are, my eager voyeur," he says. "But how exactly do you spy on a community that's well aware you're the only new faces to have visited in hundreds of years? We kind of stand out, don't we?" "Maybe we should drill peepholes in their walls," you suggest. "Or there's always scrying." "Oh, <i>magic</i> spying," Chase says, with a tone of genuine delight. "You are <i>devious</i>, $nickname. Maybe we'll have to resort to that if we don't dig up anything useful tomorrow." <<include "chattychase">>

Chase has the decency to look a little guilty. "Ah… well, about that…" You feel your brows draw down in a look of disapproval. "You haven't been practicing?" "Well, I <i>have</i>," Chase begins. "It's just not the exact material that you assigned." You'd given him a slim adventure novel, typically read by children Caine's age, a few weeks ago: he's advancing quickly enough that he's capable of reading such things now. "But honestly, it's a <i>good</i> thing—the book I'm reading instead is longer, you see, and I've read more of it, so I've made up for the deviation." Now you narrow your eyes at him. "And what exactly is this new text that you're reading?" The thief actually laughs, though whether it's genuine amusement or an attempt to alleviate your mood, you can't say. "I stole a copy of <i>The Pleasures of Lady Spider</i>." You can't help the outrage and shock that enters your tone. "Chase!" "What? It's literature! For actual adults, mind you!" "It's <i>porn</i>." "Well, yes, there are pictures, but most of it's text. I'm expanding my vocabulary by quite a lot, you know." "You—do you <i>ever</i> think about anything other than gold or sex?" He's grinning now, perhaps sensing that you're not truly, actually angry. "Well, food, when I'm hungry." You tighten your lips to suppress your own smile, maintaining a look of hard severity. "You're hopeless. And incorrigible." "All absolutely true, $nickname." Then he sobers. "But I'll go back to the other book, if you want." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Hey, whatever motivates you to read works for me. I care less about subject matter and more about practice."' 'hey7whatever'>><<setchase +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You can go back to it <i>after</i> you\'re finished with Lady Spider."' 'you7ccan'>><<setchase +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Yes, you have to stick to the assigned curriculum if you want to get full marks."' 'yes7curriculum'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Wait, where—or who—did you steal that copy from?"' 'wait7where'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

"You are generous, Professor," Chase says seriously. "I won't forget your indulgence, or the benevolence of your reign." <<include "chasesobersread">>

<<nobr>><<if $chasesex is true>> A playful gleam enters his eyes. "And, ah, are students who get full marks rewarded for their diligence?" he asks with flirtatious mirth. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Flirt back. "Maybe. I suppose you\'ll have to find out for yourself."' 'flirt7back'>><<setchase +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Roll your eyes. "Or maybe it\'s more that poor students are punished for their neglect."' 'roll7yeyes'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Shake your head with a laugh. "Let\'s leave work and pleasure separate, shall we?"' 'shake7your'>><</link>></li> </ul> <<else>> "Noted," Chase says, now the picture of a dedicated student. "I shall be the soul of diligence from now on, Professor." <<include "chasesobersread">> <</if>><</nobr>>

"I look forward to it," Chase purrs. <<include "chasesobersread">>

"Oh, you'll <i>punish</i> me?" Chase perks up. "That doesn't sound so bad, either." "I can never win with you," you say, mock-exasperated. "You always twist my words into a desirable outcome for yourself!" "I'd have hoped you knew what you were signing up for when you accepted me as your pupil," Chase answers serenely. "But if you're getting fed up with me, I promise to be the soul of diligence from now on." <<include "chasesobersread">>

Chase casts a skeptical glance around at your shared room. "Right, because we've been doing such a wonderful job of it so far," he mutters, though a grin threatens to pull up the corner of his mouth.<<include "chasesobersread">>

Then he sobers a little. "On a more serious note, though, $nickname. If I… if you ever find these lessons of ours… <i>difficult</i> to keep doing, just say the word, and we'll put a stop to them, no questions asked. You've already done enough for me. If it's a burden on you…" He trails off for a moment, his face uncharacteristically serious and earnest. "Just tell me if it's ever too much," he finishes. You glance at him inquiringly. "Where is all of this coming from?" <<nobr>><<if $chaseromanceflag gte 20 and $chasesex is true>> <i>He's not saying he wants to stop, is he?</i> <</if>><</nobr>> Chase seems to read your mind, because he says hurriedly, "It's nothing you've done, $nickname. It's just… I have to admit I feel a bit guilty, taking up so much of your time. You're always so busy, running around helping everyone. Being the Hero of Haven. You're called upon to tend to far more important things. So if teaching me to read is another thing on your plate—I don't want you running yourself ragged on my account." He pauses for a moment, scratching his cheek while staring at the ceiling thoughtfully. If you didn't know better, you'd say he was deliberately avoiding your gaze. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Prop yourself up to catch his eye. "Hey. You\'re important, too, Chase."' 'prop7yourself'>><<set $chaseharden += 1>><<if $chaseromanceflag gte 10>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 3>><</if>><<setchase +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Shake your head. "I\'m no quitter. We\'re finishing what we started."' 'shake7head'>><<setcourage +1>><<setchase +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Smile. "I appreciate your concern, but I\'m all right. It\'s no trouble."' 'smile7appreciate'>><<setchase +1>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Sigh. "It does add some work to my schedule, but I suppose I\'m happy to do it."' 'smile7appreciate'>><<setchase -5>><<setcharisma -4>><<set $chaseromanceflag -= 5>><</link>></li> </ul>

For a moment, Chase goes very, very still. When you glance over at his face, you find it totally unreadable, cloaked in shadow and moonlight. Then he smiles and says, very lightly, "Appreciate that, $nickname. It's not that I think poorly of myself: just the opposite, as you know. But when you really boil things down, I'm just a common thief. There's a lot of Chases out there, but only one <<c firstname>>." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Not to me."' 'not7to'>><<set $chaseharden += 1>><<setchase +1>><<if $chaseromanceflag gte 10>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"That\'s not true."' 'thats7not'>><<set $chaseharden += 1>><<setchase +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Where\'s all this self-deprecation coming from? You\'re usually so confident."' 'wheres7all'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Chase looks away as if you'd slapped him. "Well," he says breezily after a moment, as if you'd been talking about something else entirely, "the worst part of the whole reading thing is that you don't even get anything out of it, you know. <<include "you7wont">>

Chase sucks in a quick breath—and then he chuckles, almost as if to cover it up. "All right, you win," he says, his tone deceptively humorous. "I'll concede—for now. But I digress. The worst part of the whole reading thing is that you don't even get anything out of it, you know. <<include "you7wont">>

Chase laughs a little. "Self-deprecation's one thing, $nickname, and honesty's another. But I digress. The worst part of the whole reading thing is that you don't even get anything out of it, you know. <<include "you7wont">>

"I was afraid you'd say that," Chase sighs. "Saint <<c firstname>>, that's who you are. But I digress. The worst part of the whole reading thing is that you don't even get anything out of it, you know. <<include "you7wont">>

You won't even let me pay you, which makes me feel twice as bad." He lifts a languid hand, watches how the shadows of his fingers play and stretch against the faint moonlight projected onto the wall. "It's enough to make a thief feel a bit unsettled, to tell you the truth. In my line of work, everything is quid pro quo. Nothing comes free. There's always some price to pay, or…" He trails off. "Or even if there's not an outright price, there's a cost. Something waiting just ahead to balance the scales. For every good thing, there's a bad thing waiting to offset it. So if you catch me acting a bit <i>apprehensive</i>, it's just force of habit. I've been taught to always wait for the other shoe to drop." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I do get something out of it, though. The chance to spend time with you, to get to know you better."' 'i7doget'>><<setchase +1>><<if ($chasesex is true and $chaseromanceflag gte 25) and $highestromance is "chase">><<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Would it make you feel better to pay me?"' 'would7it'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"That sounds mighty superstitious, Chase. I didn\'t think you believed in such things."' 'that7mighty'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"So you\'re wary of things that seem too good to be true?"' 'so7youre'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

<<nobr>><<if ($chasesex is true and $chaseromanceflag gte 25) and $highestromance is "chase">> You look away, feeling your cheeks heat a little. "Your… companionship." <<else>> "Your friendship." <</if>><</nobr>> Chase gives you a quick sidelong glance. "Aw, $nickname, you're going to make me blush," he teases.<<nobr>><<if $chase gte 75 or $chaseromanceflag gte 25>> Then he hesitates, and the smile drops a little from his face. He clears his throat. "And I… enjoy spending time with you, too," he says, somewhat lamely. "So. I suppose it is a mutually-beneficial arrangement. I can tell myself that so I don't feel as selfish, anyway." <</if>><</nobr>> Then he looks away again. "So. I don't think I ever asked you. What's your favorite book?" His usual cocky smile edges just on the border of shy. "Maybe I'll be able to read it someday." <<include "chattychase">>

Chase laughs heartily. "Maybe," he concedes. "But knowing how slow I am, you'll end up bleeding me dry." "You're learning extremely quickly, and you know it," you tell him solicitously. "Pretty soon there isn't going to be anything left for me to teach you." Chase makes a small noise. "It will almost be a shame, when that day comes." Then he turns to you playfully, a bit of excitement gleaming in his eyes. "Do you know what I read on the street the other day? A wanted poster. For <i>me</i>. Now I'm wondering how many things have been written about me, and I just had no idea. Just think of it—if I'd learned to read sooner, my ego would be that much more inflated..." <<include "chattychase">>

"Oh, of course I'm superstitious," Chase says airily. "Corsairs have to be, and thieves doubly so. Even the best-laid plans can go completely awry based on something as stupid and simple as random chance and luck. We base quite a lot of our endeavors around it, betting our lives on calculated risks and gambles, counting on the slim chance that so-and-so won't forget their pocketbook and return home at the wrong moment that night. Ari carries a lucky rabbit's foot, you know, and a lot of the thieves will go as pale as ghosts if you do something that might offend a shade of the dead—or worse, Lady Luck herself. I've even seen decent con artists and pickpockets ejected from other guilds because people got to thinking they brought bad luck to their teams." "Do you believe in a god?" you ask then, curious. If he believes in anything like a 'Lady Luck,' a deity isn't too far away. "Oh, absolutely not," Chase says, almost flatly. "Aside from my being a sinner of the highest order, gods do not factor into my life in the least, neither the one nor the many." <<nobr>><<if $belief is "one-god" or $belief is "oldfaith">> He darts a quick glance at you. "Sorry. I hope I don't offend." <br><br> You shrug. It's not as if you've ever expected anything like piety from him. <<else>> You tilt your head. "Really?" <</if>><</nobr>> He shakes his head. "I just never believed in any of that. I don't feel as if some greater power is watching over me, or anyone else, for that matter—never have. It just doesn't make any sense. And there's too much evil and rot in the world to believe that a god would make things that way. Either God doesn't exist at all, or God exists and bungled things so poorly—or worse, <i>wanted</i> them this way—that people suffer regardless. And if it's the case of the latter, I say fuck 'em. That's not a god I'd want to worship, anyway." Then he cocks his head at you, looking rueful. "Sorry. I try to keep the blasphemy to a minimum, but sometimes it just comes out. Are <i>you</i> superstitious?" <<include "chattychase">>

"I suppose that's one way of putting it," Chase says with a laugh. "It sounds miserly of me, but there is some part of my hindbrain that turns things over like a toy, checking it for cracks and thinking, <i>What's the catch</i>?" Then he looks around at you, sidelong. "I wouldn't be surprised if you felt the same way," he says, a bit carefully. "Considering—you know, your past, the whole situation with the Autarchy and…. everything. Don't you ever feel… I don't know, <i>cautious</i> about trusting in things that seem good? Worried that getting attached will only make it hurt more when they're inevitably ripped away or ruined?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"That hasn\'t been a specific problem of mine, no."' 'that7hasnt'>><<set $traumatized -= 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'You wince. That one hit a little too close to home.' 'you7wince'>><</link>></li> <<if $courage gte 50>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Of course I have. But I\'m learning to push through it. It\'s no way to live life, flinching away from things just because you\'re afraid you\'re going to eventually lose them."</div>' 'of7ccoursehave'>><<set $chaseharden += 1>><<setchase +1>><<if $chaseromanceflag gte 20>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">"Of course I have. But I\'m learning to push through it. It\'s no way to live life, flinching away from things just because you\'re afraid you\'re going to eventually lose them."</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $shepherdsconscript is true>><li><<link '"Why do you think I had to be conscripted?"' 'why7do'>><</link>></li><</if>> </ul>

Chase smiles a little. "Then I'm glad," he says. "You're made of stronger stuff than me, $nickname." <<include "chattychase">>

Chase immediately frowns at your expression. "Sorry," he says, his brow knitting with a foreign expression of concern and self-dislike. "Shouldn't have brought it up—foolish of me to even think it." He suddenly changes the subject, turning to you with a slight smile. "Do you know what I read on the street the other day? A wanted poster. For <i>me</i>. Now I'm wondering how many things have been written about me, and I just had no idea. Just think of it—if I'd learned to read sooner, my ego would be that much more inflated. There are even articles in the paper about <i>you</i>, you know..." <<include "chattychase">>

Chase is silent for a moment, taking this in. "Well, damn," he says with a soft laugh, laying a hand over his heart. "You cut right to the heart of the matter, don't you? I've always admired that about you, $firstname." He shakes his head ruefully. "Point taken." <<include "chattychase">>

Chase chuckles. "I'd almost forgotten about that. Imagine: the Hero of Haven having to be press-ganged into service. And look at you now." <<include "chattychase">>

Chase gives you his signature grin, the one that he gets when he's up to no good, full of wickedness and mischief. "I'll give you one guess." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Blade."' 'stole7blade'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Trouble."' 'stole7trouble'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Shery."' 'stole7shery'>><<setchase +1>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Tallys."' 'stole7tallys'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Riel."' 'stole7riel'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Red."' 'stole7red'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Ayla."' 'stole7ayla'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Halek."' 'stole7halek'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Briony."' 'stole7briony'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Lavinet."' 'stole7lavinet'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"The library?"' 'stole7libary'>><<setintelligence -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Chase barks out a genuine laugh. "Mr. Can't Talk About Dirty Talk Without Looking Like He Swallowed a Glowing Coal? I <i>wish</i>. I'd never let him live it down. No, all that's in his library are Ket poems and plays and classics. Lots of proverbs, from what I can tell. Things like '<i>flowers fade. Only the blade survives</i>.' Truly awful stuff." <<include "thenwhochase">>

"So who did you actually steal it from?" you ask him. Chase shakes his head, his grin widening. "Sorry, you used up your guess, and you guessed wrong. It seems you'll never know." "Oh, come on!" <<include "chattychase">>

Chase barks out a genuine laugh. "Trubs? No, sadly, most of his library is just detective novels and instruction manuals for various rifles. Not a dirty secret to be seen." <<include "thenwhochase">>

Chase lets out a genuine laugh, the sound warm and melodious and inviting. "How did you know?" he demands, amused. "I was gobsmacked when I could finally read the titles on her shelf and figured out what I was looking at. What a shock! An innocent little mouse like her, reading books so spicy I haven't even heard courtesans use that kind of language!" You're laughing, picturing the horrified look on Shery's face if she ever knew Chase had filched one of her more explicit novels. "She loves romance novels." "Trust me, $nickname, I'm reading it, and <i>romance</i> doesn't have anything to do with what's going on in that book." Chase winks at you. "It's our secret, though. I'm going to put it back on her shelf and she'll be none the wiser. I might drop a random quote one day and see if she reacts, though." <<include "chattychase">>

Chase smirks. "A good guess, but no cigar. All her bookshelf has is Elvish texts, as far as I can make out. Can't even figure out what they're about: it's thoroughly Chase-proofed." <<include "thenwhochase">>

Chase barks out a genuine laugh. "<i>Him</i>? Mr. Stick in the Mud? My esteem of him would rise immensely if I ever saw such a book on his shelf. No, whatever he's got in his office uses words I'm too stupid to string together. All history and business and law, I think. Terribly boring." <<include "thenwhochase">>

Chase barks out a genuine laugh. "Red? Well, I suppose I could see it, but he'd probably hide his in a much more discreet place. No, the last time I tried to make off with one of <i>his</i> books, my hand went numb and some sort of hex started to creep up my arm and turn it all stiff and cold. Red was so angry. He launched into this furious lecture about not messing around with cursed texts or, you know, books with demon summoning rituals in them, saying it'd be like handing a monkey a machine gun, and so I slunk out once he undid the curse, thoroughly chastised. But how was I supposed to know? I can't read!" He laughs again. "Anyway, his room is now thoroughly proofed against my entry, so Lady Spider didn't come from him." <<include "thenwhochase">>

Chase barks out a genuine laugh. "Ayla? I suppose I could see it—she's about as shameless as I am. But alas, she's not a very big reader. The bookshelf in her room is just stuffed with maps and snacks. So many snacks." <<include "thenwhochase">>

Chase barks out a genuine laugh. "Wouldn't that be a treasure, finding out the so-called Messiah of the Reach has smut squirreled away on his shelf? No, all he has in his library are cookbooks and travelogues, maybe a novel or two that he's been gifted, but nothing scandalous." <<include "thenwhochase">>

Chase barks out a genuine laugh. "Briony? No, that girl is tough as nails and could punch her way through a brick house—but I think her sensibilities are a bit too delicate for texts of this nature. I don't think she could make it through two paragraphs without either screaming and covering her eyes, or blushing so hard she gave herself a nosebleed." He shakes his head. "No, most of her shelf is a bit of everything: love stories, popular plays, history books, spellbooks, travelogues and guides. She says she has a lot to catch up on, having forgotten pretty much everything, so she tries to read everything she can. She even says I can borrow anything I want, which makes stealing from her no fun." <<include "thenwhochase">>

Chase barks out a genuine laugh. "<i>So close</i>," he crows. "She does, in fact, have some scandalous books of that nature tucked behind the books on her shelf, but this particular one didn't come from her. Most of her shelf is either love stories, love poems, or political and historical books—of the kind that nobles have to read, I imagine. Nothing I'm interested in." <<include "thenwhochase">>

Chase barks out a genuine laugh. "It's not really stealing if I can just borrow it from the library, is it?" he asks humorously. "No, it wasn't the library." <<include "thenwhochase">>

Chase stirs a little in thought. <<nobr>><<if ($chaseromanceflag gte 20 and $chasesex is true)>> "I was just thinking we should hire you some protection," he says idly. "To make sure you don't get into any mischief while we're here." <br><br> "Mischief?" You laugh, partially in disbelief. "You're one to talk." <br><br> Chase's look is both a bit rueful and entirely serious. "Well, let's see," he says lightly, ticking off his fingers. "After I saw you off to the Reach, you got lost in a mountain surrounded by Ghasts. Then you went off to Heth Macoll and ended up fighting a Faceless Lord in the guise of one of our greatest church leaders. Then you went to Lockwood and wound up averting a minor civil war. And that's not counting all of the other things you got up to in the months before all of that." He looks over at you, a look of wry, sardonic amusement on his face. "I think you're the one who tends to attract trouble, not me." <<if $bloodmorph is true>> Then his face becomes entirely grave. "And let's not forget the matter of that bloodmorph," he says quietly. "How's your arm?" <br><br> You subconsciously rub at it through the sleeve of your nightshirt. "It's fine," you answer, striving to keep your tone light and unconcerned. <br><br> "I felt pretty sick when I saw you like that, bleeding," Chase admits in a low, subdued tone. He studies the ceiling as if there are some fascinating hieroglyphics scrawled up there. "I wanted to… Well. I wanted to make sure that thing could never hurt you again. Grind it into pulp, or something. For a moment I was so angry that I didn't know what to do with myself. And then I was quite confused about why I felt that way. And then I was trying to tell myself that getting hurt is just part of our job, and I might be seeing you like that a lot, and…" He sucks in a deep breath. "I was thinking about a lot of things, really. I still am. It's enough to make a man's liver turn sideways." <br><br> <</if>> He glances over at you, his face unusually sober. "Just promise me you'll look after yourself, $nickname," he says softly. "You'd better keep yourself safe." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'You keep your tone playful. "Or else what?"' 'yo7ukeep'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'You study him curiously. Where is this sudden seriousness coming from?' 'you7study'>><<if $chaseromanceflag gte 22>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Smile at him. "If we\'re hiring me protection, it might as well be you. You\'re with me often enough."' 'smile7at'>><<setchase +1>><<if $chaseromanceflag gte 22>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Gaze at him haughtily. "I can take care of myself, Chase. You don\'t need to worry."' 'gaze7at'>><<set $chaseromanceflag -= 1>><<setcourage +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Shake your head. "I can\'t promise that I\'ll never put myself in danger. I can only promise that I\'ll try."' 'shak7eyour'>><<setcourage +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Smirk at him. "Careful, Chase. I might get to thinking that you care about me."' 'smirk7at'>><<if $chaseromanceflag gte 25>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 2>><<set $chaseharden += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> </ul> <<else>> Chase runs a hand through his hair, pensive. "Well, I was just thinking on Wallmire's name. Ironic that it's called that, but doesn't actually have any <i>walls</i>. Walls would have really helped them out, right about now." He thinks on it for a moment more, then continues. "Names are a funny thing. I was told that my mother named me Chase because, even as an infant, I was always trying to chase after shining things, reaching for her earrings, that sort of thing. She got me to crawl by dangling a necklace in front of me from across the room, apparently. My father approved of the name because it reminded him of a hawk flying after a lure—you know, of the kind that falconers use to call their hawks back to their hand. He was a seafaring man, a corsair captain, so he thought the imagery was very noble and ferocious and befitting someone who would be chasing after treasure and gold all his life." <br><br> You glance over at him, a little carefully. Chase rarely talks about his past, and you've <i>never</i> heard him mention his mother. <br><br> Chase feels the weight of your look, regardless, and turns to you with a rueful smile. <ul class="choices"> <<if ($chasesex is true and $chaseromanceflag gte 15) and $courage gte 50>><li><<link 'Keep your tone playful. "Does that mean I\'m one of those shiny things you love to chase?"' 'keep7tone'>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link '"You never talk about your mother."' 'you7never'>><<setchase +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"What was your father like?"' 'what7was'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"And do you think the name suits you?"' 'and7do'>><</link>></li> </ul> <</if>><</nobr>>

"Or else I'll get very angry," Chase says lightly. "And I'll have to punish you for your transgressions." You can't help the grin that lights up your face. Something about the innuendo puts some very intriguing ideas in your head. "Really?" Seeing Chase in such a state might be very interesting, indeed… Chase sends you a doleful look. "Now I've gone and incentivized you. I should have known you're too strong-willed to listen to anyone, let alone me." <<include "chattychase">>

Chase looks away from your scrutiny. "Anyway," he says lightly, "what do you think the name Wallmire means? They don't seem to have any walls." <<include "chattychase">>

"That's true enough, sweetheart," Chase says warmly, gazing over at you with something like unthinking affection in his eyes. Then he blinks, seems to shake himself a little, and clears his throat. "But how exactly would you pay me for such a service? If I'm going to be working as your bodyguard, it's not exactly going to come free…" He steers the conversation towards safer, more familiar waters, peppered with banter and innuendo, and you allow him to. Something about the way he just looked at you made your stomach flutter, like a butterfly apt to be blown away by the frailest wind. <<include "chattychase">>

Chase sighs. "I was worried you'd say that," he says dolefully. "You're far too strong-minded and self-sufficient. All right, then. I'll just have to resign myself to watching your back. <i>Someone</i> has to." <<include "chattychase">>

Chase sighs. "I was worried you'd say that," he says dolefully. "Saint <<c firstname>>, far too good for this world. All right, then. I'll just have to resign myself to watching your back. <i>Someone</i> has to." <<include "chattychase">>

<<nobr>><<if $chaseromanceflag gte 25>> For just the briefest instance, Chase's entire body stiffens. Then he relaxes, but when he turns his head to look at you, the look on his face is entirely serious, so intense that it shocks you into full wakefulness. <br><br> "Do you doubt that I do?" he asks softly. <br><br> Your heart quails at the strange, intent look on his face. "I…" <br><br> Chase sits up, but now he's not looking at you, but at the door to the bedroom—why, you couldn't say. "I <i>do</i> care about you, $firstname," he says, quiet but unwavering. "Whatever happens, I…" Then he sucks in a breath and shakes his head, and when he looks at you again, there's the usual cryptic, rueful smile on his face. "Forgive me. I'm just being foolish." He flows to his feet, completely soundless and seemingly weightless on the room's hard floorboards. "I'm going to get a glass of water from the kitchen. Want anything?" <br><br> When you shake your head mutely, he smiles and gracefully exits the room. The minutes tick by, and you're not sure if he's really in the kitchen, has left the house, or is lingering in the living room, talking quietly to a sleepy Red. Eventually, your eyes are too heavy to hold up any longer, and you lose the battle against sleep. By the time the bedroom door opens again, near-silent despite the creaky hinge—an old thief's trick—you're already more than half into the shadowy realms of slumber. You think you imagine the rustling sounds of Chase slipping wordlessly back into his bed. <br><br> And if you feel the heavy, invisible weight of his gaze on you as you slip away into sleep... well. For all you know, that was all nothing more than a dream. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "breakfastinwallmire">><</link>></center> <<else>> Chase laughs lightly. "Of course I do, $nickname," he says good-naturedly. "I'd give my life for you, you know that. As I would for all the Shepherds. …Except Riel. That twerp's on his own." <br><br> <<include "chattychase">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<i>Another bauble for your collection, to covet and then later discard</i>? "My little lure," Chase says affectionately. "You're infinitely more interesting than a necklace, I assure you." <<include "then7he">>

"Not much to say," Chase answers, blinking with catlike slowness. "She died when I was an infant, maybe one or two. My father was away at sea—they weren't married or anything like that. He didn't return until some years later, and by then I'd been put into an orphanage. So anything about my mother, I learned from him, and he wasn't inclined to talk about such things much. I don't think they even knew each other that well." <<include "then7he">>

"He was a grim, intense man," Chase answers blithely. "Never cracked a smile or bothered with a kind word. He treated me like he treated all of the tarboys—those are the kids on a ship who are in charge of tarring ropes and things, you know, a deckhand. For all I know, we were <i>all</i> his progeny from different scattered women. He never treated me any differently, that's for sure." <<include "then7he">>

"Never really gave it much thought," Chase says cheerfully. "I suppose it does. Once I set my eyes on a goal, I don't tend to give up on it easily. There is something about the name that fits <i>me</i>. It's why I've never operated under any kind of moniker or pseudonym, just my own." "Except the whole 'Prince of Thieves, King of Crooks' thing." "Ah, that's a title, $nickname, not a false name. And I'd say that one suits me, too." <<include "then7he">>

Then he steers the conversation towards safer waters. "Does your name have a meaning? Do you know?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"It means strength."' 'chase7makes'>><<set $namemeaning to "strength">><<setstrength +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"It means resilience."' 'chase7makes'>><<set $namemeaning to "resilience">><</link>></li> <li><<link '"It means love."' 'chase7makes'>><<set $namemeaning to "love">><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"It means beauty."' 'chase7makes'>><<set $namemeaning to "beauty">><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"It means power."' 'chase7makes'>><<set $namemeaning to "power">><<setmagic +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"It means courage."' 'chase7makes'>><<set $namemeaning to "courage">><<setcourage +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"It means justice."' 'chase7makes'>><<set $namemeaning to "justice">><<setloyal +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"It means honor."' 'chase7makes'>><<set $namemeaning to "honor">><</link>></li> <li><<link '"It means leader."' 'chase7makes'>><<set $namemeaning to "leader">><</link>></li> <li><<link '"It means warrior."' 'chase7makes'>><<set $namemeaning to "warrior">><</link>></li> <li><<link '"It means guardian."' 'chase7makes'>><<set $namemeaning to "guardian">><</link>></li> <li><<link '"It means scholar."' 'chase7makes'>><<set $namemeaning to "scholar">><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"It means healer."' 'chase7makes'>><<set $namemeaning to "healer">><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"It means survivor."' 'chase7makes'>><<set $namemeaning to "survivor">><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"It means hero."' 'chase7makes'>><<set $namemeaning to "hero">><</link>></li> <li><<link '"It means holy."' 'chase7makes'>><<set $namemeaning to "holy">><<setfaith +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"It means blessing."' 'chase7makes'>><<set $namemeaning to "blessing">><</link>></li> <li><<link '"It means gift."' 'chase7makes'>><<set $namemeaning to "gift">><</link>></li> <li><<link '"It means victory."' 'chase7makes'>><<set $namemeaning to "victory">><</link>></li> <li><<link '"It means flower."' 'chase7makes'>><<set $namemeaning to "flower">><</link>></li> <li><<link '"It means lightning."' 'chase7makes'>><<set $namemeaning to "lightning">><</link>></li> <li><<link '"It means fire."' 'chase7makes'>><<set $namemeaning to "fire">><</link>></li> <li><<link '"It means weapon."' 'chase7makes'>><<set $namemeaning to "weapon">><<setstrength +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"It means light."' 'chase7makes'>><<set $namemeaning to "light">><<setreputation +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"It means..."' 'name7means'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"If it does, my parents never told me. My name could mean anything."' 'if7it'>><</link>></li> </ul>

"My name means <<textbox "$namemeaning" "">>." <<page_break "Next" "chase7makes">>

Chase makes a small sound of understanding. "Sometimes it's better that way," he says humorously. "Sometimes it's nicer not to be defined, labeled, and put into a box." <<include "chattychase">>

Chase makes a thoughtful sound. "I think it suits you," he says, looking at you sidelong with a small smile on his face. <<nobr>><<if $nickname is not $firstname>> Then the smile widens into a grin. "But I also think $nickname suits you just as well." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "chattychase">>

You talk and laugh for a while longer, joking quietly with each other and covering a huge, scattered range of topics, from strange dreams you've had to bizarre encounters you've met on your travels, watching the moonlight slide against the far wall and hearing some water-clock in the house <i>thump-thunk</i> to mark the passing time. <<nobr>><<if $chasesex is true>> Eventually the warmth and stillness of the room draws around you like a dark blanket, and you feel your eyes sliding shut, too heavy for you to prop them open any longer. Chase leans over and touches your shoulder gently, rubbing the curve of it under your blanket. "Sweet dreams, $nickname," he says softly. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'You bid him good night and fall asleep instantly.' 'you7bid'>><<set $chaseromanceflag -= 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Ask him to push your beds together so you can sleep in the same bed.' 'ask7himto'>><<if $chaseromanceflag gte 25>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> </ul> <<else>> Eventually the warmth and stillness of the room draws around you like a dark blanket, and you feel your eyes sliding shut, too heavy for you to prop them open any longer. You hear Chase say quietly, "Sleep well, $nickname," before you drift off into a peaceful, dreamless slumber, lulled by the comfort of Chase's presence in the room. <br><br> You don't wake again until morning. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "breakfastinwallmirei">><</link>></center> <</if>><</nobr>>

You don't wake again until morning. <<include "breakfastinwallmire">>

You're so tired that the request barely comes out as a mumble, but you know that Chase hears you all the same. Even half-asleep, you see his moment of hesitation in the shadows of the room before he says gently, <<nobr>><<if $chaseromanceflag gte 25>> "Feeling a bit uneasy, darling?" <br><br> Well, if you are, can anyone blame you? It's been a hard journey so far, and you don't think it's going to get any easier now that you've reached your destination. And surrounded by murder, death, dread, and terror in a foreign place, wouldn't anyone want the comfort of sleeping with a warm and trusted body nearby? <br><br> Chase reads your every thought without you having to say a thing. He smiles a little and rises from his bed. "Anything for you, <<c firstname>>," he says. And for once, there's not even the hint of a joke or sarcasm in his voice at all. Nothing but total, utter conviction. <br><br> It's difficult to push your beds together without letting them scrape against the wooden floor, but you think you manage it without alerting anyone else in the house. Chase lifts the blanket for you in a very gentlemanly manner, allowing you to crawl under and rest your head against his chest. He's deliciously warm, and you have to resist the urge to bury your nose against the clean fabric of his shirt and inhale his amber scent. Though he feels utterly relaxed, well accustomed to having your body pressed against his by this point, you can hear his heart beating a bit thinly and unevenly against your ear. Is he nervous? <br><br> You dismiss the thought when he runs his hand idly through your hair, then between your shoulder blades and down your back, his hand warm and slim and clever, tracing messages against your skin in some language you don't know how to decipher. After a long, tender moment of silence, he says, so softly you almost wouldn't hear it if you didn't have your ear pressed against his chest: "You know you're safe with me, don't you, <<c firstname>>? You know I would never allow anyone to hurt you?" <br><br> You can't help the sharp pinprick of pain against your heart, as if he'd pressed a needle to the soft point between your collarbones. <i>Even if the person best poised to hurt me is you?</i> <br><br> But you can't say it; you have to shut your eyes and turn your face against his shoulder. "I know, Chase," is all you manage to whisper. And the two of you fall silent as he runs his hand along your back, the gesture having nothing to do with lust and everything to do with unthinking affection, comfort, familiarity. Mapping a terrain that he's already thoroughly explored, like a man surveying land that he's claimed for himself, loving and content and a little possessive all at once. <br><br> You try not to think any more on it—to not read into what it could mean—and will yourself to fall asleep. Slowly, lulled by Chase's closeness and the knowledge of him watching over you, you gradually fall into heavy, cottony sleep. <<if $chaseromanceflag gte 30>> <br><br> And if you feel the phantom brush of his lips against your forehead, a murmur of words that you're already too far away in slumber to hear—well, for all you know, it's only a part of your dreams, and nothing more. <br><br> You don't wake again until morning. <<else>> <br><br> You don't wake again until morning. <</if>> <br><br> <<include "breakfastinwallmire">> <<else>> "Better not, $nickname. If Blade came in and caught us, that'd be both of our pretty heads chopped off." <br><br> You can't help the pang of disappointment and hurt, high up in your ribs, as if he'd pricked your heart with a needle. But you can only nod, and Chase settles back into his bed, saying nothing more for the rest of the night. From the way he fails to move, you're not sure he actually falls asleep… but that isn't really any concern of yours. You try to wrangle yourself back into that state of peace and contentment, but it eludes you. It takes a long, long time before sleep mercifully comes to claim you. <br><br> <<include "breakfastinwallmire">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $redromanceflag gte 25>> Red smiles, obviously pleased. "Sounds good to me." He glances at the others. <<else>> "Sounds good to me," Red says breezily. <</if>><</nobr>> "I suppose that leaves the other room to—?" "I guess Blade and me?" Trouble says, glancing questioningly at Chase. "We've bunked in the same room plenty of other times before. Unless you want me to take the couch, Chase?" The thief stretches languidly and yawns. "No need. Even I know when I should concede a room to my commanding officers. Just don't say I never do you any favors." With that, everyone bids each other good night, and you and Red take your packs and make your way into the <i>heguman's</i> guest room. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "redsroomi">><</link>></center>

Your preparations for bed go smoothly enough: months of sharing missions and traveling together have given you a well-oiled routine, so unthinking that you just naturally fall into its practiced rhythms. It's really no different from making or breaking down camp—you move in easy synchronization, unpacking a few essential belongings, stepping around each other in the small confines of the plain room. While Red is courteous and mindful of your comfort, he seems to have no issue at all with sharing such a tight space with you, or with simply going about his usual routine of taking a quick bath or hanging up his damp shirt near the window to dry. He hardly seems to notice when you do the same. <<nobr>> <<if $redromanceflag gte 18 or $red gte 70>> And really, you are so bone-weary and exhausted that you don't have the energy to be shy about it, either. <<if $redromanceflag gte 23 and $attractedto is not "women">> <br><br> There is a moment when you happen to glance at the bathroom, with its door cracked halfway open, and catch the sight of Red halfway through tugging on a clean shirt while vigorously toweling off his vivid red hair. You tell yourself that you don't notice the tan, rippling muscles of his back and shoulders, the trimness of his waist, or the interesting downy thistle of hair just at the nape of his neck. Or how the scent of his soap makes the room smell like oud and juniper and something clean and masculine. <br><br> Then you look up, and you noticing him noticing you in the reflection of the mirror. He doesn't pause in what he's doing, but you think you see a slow, knowing smirk form on his face before he glances away and tugs the rest of his shirt back on. <br><br> Caught! You look away with a flush—maybe you're not as unaffected by him as you thought you were—and hurry to throw your own bedclothes on. <</if>> <</if>><</nobr>> When you're finally clean and warm enough to call it a night, Red glances at you for confirmation before blowing out the room's sole candle and tucking himself neatly into his bed. With his height, he looks a little ridiculous, his feet nearly hanging off of the child-sized cot, but you politely withhold a snicker as you climb into your own. It's little more than a thin pallet packed with sweet-smelling reeds or straw, the pillow essentially an ancient sack stuffed with feathers that poke and prickle you through the fabric. The blanket is very rough-woven and scratchy compared to what you're accustomed to, but it's not the worst situation you've ever slept in. You wonder how old the house is, and what they'll do when Cyril and Surya inevitably outgrow these beds. You ponder if they'll ever wake up in this room and long to start their days somewhere new… or if they're doomed to open their eyes to the same four walls and ceiling for the rest of their lives. The thought makes you glance over at Red. As you'd expected, he's still wide awake, his eyes open and bright in the light of the thin, chilly moon streaming in through the window. The room is so crammed that his bed is right next to yours: if you both stretched your arms out, you could comfortably clasp hands. That's why you can so clearly see the look on his face, even under the spare veil of the moon: from his expression, you can tell his mind is busily churning and cranking away, working over the day's events with the eager industry of a bee. <<nobr>><<if $red gte 65 or $education is "Circle-trained">> He even seals letters to friends with a symbol of a bee, you know: something that everyone agrees perfectly represents the unceasing motion and activity and sheer work always going on inside of him. It's become something of an inside joke: whenever he has that same look on his face, Tallys often remarks that he's "being a bee" again. <</if>><</nobr>> After a moment, he stirs. "My mind's racing." <<nobr>><<if $charisma gte 50 or $red gte 65>> You smile. <<else>> You groan. <</if>><</nobr>> "When is it not?" He makes a humming sound. "There's just so much that we don't know. What is this Terror? It sounds like how the people of Capra dubbed Quiial 'the Specter', and you could argue the methodology seems the same. Trap a town full of people and launch a campaign of fear against them. Draw things out. Make them suffer, and then feed on their horror and helplessness. But I also feel that it's not as simple as this being a Faceless Lord, either. The other ones we encountered were sly: they covered up their activities under the guise of unprovable nightmares, or masqueraded as various figures to escape unwanted attention. Clochus and Black Sun, for example: no one drew the connection between the drug and a demon until the Shepherds got involved. But so far, there hasn't been much trickery involved: it's just straight murder. There's something about it that seems… <i>lacking</i> in what the Endarkened are drawn to. Maybe." He stews on it some more. "And is the Terror murdering the Wallmirans the same threat that took the other Shepherd teams, or are they two separate things entirely—interconnected but distinct, or entirely coincidental? And what is going on in Wallmire itself? Certain things Saranae said don't exactly add up. She said she doesn't know how the victims are taken or killed, but they clearly had reason to believe that the Terror would taunt them by using Cyril and Surya, which is why they wouldn't open the door for us or even look outside. That doesn't exactly line up, does it? If they haven't had any direct contact with the Terror, why did they think it would use that sort of tactic? And how does their closed society even <i>work</i>? I understand the economics of it—if they've learned to harness the resources of the marsh to their advantage, they can probably craft or build anything they'd need without the need for outside trading, but what about <i>socially</i>? Can it really be true that they never leave, even the adults? They're never curious about the outside world? None of them, out of hundreds, out of multiple generations? I find that hard to fathom. Even in the Circle, you couldn't stop intrepid souls from wanting to leave, even when everything they needed—safety, concealment, companionship—was right there, and they had everything to lose by going off on their own and risking discovery or even death. What's so amazing about the Bleakmoor that <i>none</i> of the Wallmirans even entertain the idea? And their language and social structure seem fascinating. Where did it come from? What culture does it have roots in? Korgoth? I don't think the history adds up. Really, who settled this place to begin with? Where did they come from? And why establish a settlement in such a hostile, remote environment?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Beg him to let you sleep. "Red. <i>Red</i>. It\'s way too late for this, and I\'m dog-tired."' 'beg7him'>><<set $redromanceflag -= 5>><<fair_plus "$red" -10>><<setintelligence -1>><<setcharisma -1>><</link>></li> <<if $intelligence gte 65>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Entertain his theories for as long as you\'re able to. "Do we know of any civilizations that were historically connected to the Bleakmoor? Could they be descendants of endemic tribes rather than conventional settlers from somewhere else?"</div>' 'entertain7his'>><<setintelligence +1>><<setcharisma +1>><<setred +3>><<set $redromanceflag += 2>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Entertain his theories for as long as you\'re able to. "Do we know of any civilizations that were historically connected to the Bleakmoor? Could they be descendants of endemic tribes rather than conventional settlers from somewhere else?"</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link 'Distract him with a change in topic. "These questions are better left for when you\'re feeling sharp in the morning. Why don\'t we exhaust your brain into quietude with some other thoughts?"' 'distract7him'>><<setred +3>><<set $redromanceflag += 1>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

There's a sharp intake of breath from the other bed. "Damn," he says ruefully, good-naturedly. "I'm sorry, $halfname2. I never know how to turn it off. You get some rest—I'll shut up for the rest of the night." True to his word, he falls silent, though he remains awake, staring up at the ceiling, his eyes lively with thought. You're not awake long enough to dwell on it, however: soon enough, the warmth and quiet of the room draws over you like a blanket, and you drift towards a black and dreamless slumber. You don't wake again until morning. <<include "breakfastinwallmire">>

Red's eyes brighten eagerly. "I don't know enough about the area, but it's an excellent thought. Something to look up in a history book, when we've got the time, or perhaps ask a spirit of knowledge…" You talk for a long time, bouncing ideas off of each other in the warmth and stillness of the dark room, chatting animatedly about various theories and concepts—before eventually, together, the two of you both fall quiet, then drift off into a peaceful, dreamless sleep. You don't wake again until morning. <<include "breakfastinwallmire">>

He smiles ruefully and turns towards you, resting on his stomach and using his pillow as a way to prop up his chin. "What did you have in mind?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I know <i>you\'re</i> liking it, but how\'s the rest of the Circle adapting to life with the Shepherds?"' 'i7kknow'>><</link>></li> <<if $red gte 70 or $education is "Circle-trained">><li><<link '"How\'s your family?"' 'hows7your'>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link '"I think the others are impressed with how well you\'ve been keeping up with the group. You\'re more athletic than you let on."' 'it7hink'>><</link>></li> <<if ($courage gte 50 and $charisma gte 45) and ($ace is false and $aroace is false)>><li><<link '"Settle an argument between me and Ayla. Elemental and Child of Light. Sex?"' 'settle7an'>><<setcourage +1>><</link>></li><</if>> </ul>

"As far as I know, just fine," Red says with a smile. "The older ones—when I say older, I mean our generation, like Pan and Neon and Raven—are fitting in well with the rest of the Order and their squads. They definitely seem to enjoy being around other people, mingling with the commonfolk in broad daylight, being a part of Haven. That kind of thing. At the Circle, we almost never left the school grounds, so even though we were near Capra, we never really got to be a <i>part</i> of it. I think they're very much enjoying being able to walk around freely without fear of drawing attention to themselves. And our work with the Shepherds feels—meaningful. Like we can use our knowledge and our skills to actually contribute to making the world better, instead of just adding on to or preserving the esoterica and minutiae of various academic studies, and living in such secrecy that no one will ever really know we were doing it to begin with." He rests his cheek against his pillow. "Some, like Pan, are pretty active in taking on missions, going out into the field. Others, like Neon, are working as researchers and scholars for the Order: experimenting on various tools and potential weapons that could be developed to make our lives easier or our jobs safer, or trying to find secret histories about the Endarkened, or working as Healers in the infirmary. Others are continuing in their roles as instructors and teachers to the younger generation." "And the students?" you ask. While the majority of the Circle Mages are adults who have technically finished their studies and 'graduated' from their programs, there were still younger students still partway through their formal education when the Circle made the move to Haven. "They're still attending their classes, as usual," Red says mildly. "Nothing's changed much for them: just the scenery. Except their programs have been incorporated into the Shepherds' new officers academy—it's the 'Circle' no longer, but completely legitimate Shepherd business. A clever smokescreen where they can get their magical knowledge under the guise of necessary training before they become full-fledged officers. Any recruit with the aptitude can join their classes, too." "Well, it's not as if the Autarchy can stop us from training our own recruits," you note dryly. "It would be suicidal to expect us to send raw, untaught greenies out to face demons without the proper education. No one can dispute that they need to be taught how to handle their powers and magic, especially since they've never been allowed to before. It would be like sending an artilleryman out into battle without ever teaching him how to fire a gun." Red snorts. "On paper, it makes complete sense. But if an Inquisitor comes sniffing around, they'd most likely question why our officers academy has classes like <i>Mysticism of the Eastern Cults</i> and <i>Weaveworking: Magic of the Threads</i> alongside courses like emergency field medicine and wilderness tracking. It would definitely take some explaining—which, I suppose, makes it a good thing that Blade's taking such pains to obscure the messier truths during the Autarch's upcoming visit. He'll never need to know." He shrugs lightly. "But all in all, it's a pretty perfect solution. Best of all, no one needs an Archmage: the Circle's now just a part of the larger system of the Shepherds, one limb in a greater body. I'm still around to serve as the final say for certain issues, and to field requests or handle problems when the need arises, but I haven't really had to step in or give my opinion on anything so far. The instructors know what to do with their students, and now they have the administration and support system of the rest of the Order. So it's all running smoothly on its own." He smiles. "Exactly how I like it." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Sounds like it\'s time for you to hang up your Archmage hat. Your position\'s been made redundant."' 'sounds7like'>><<setred -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"What have you been doing with your free time, then?"' 'what7have'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Didn\'t you used to teach classes back at the Circle? Why didn\'t you keep doing that?"' 'didnt7you'>><</link>></li> </ul>

"Very true," he says pensively. "But I haven't seen the need to officially dissolve the position yet. It's not because I particularly benefit from the title, or even want it. It just feels like I'd be letting Archmage Tevanti down if I gave it up that easily. I'll probably see how things go and then step down in a year or so. Maybe give the position to someone else, if that's even necessary." "Think of it like this," you say. "It was your job to protect the Circle when you were on your own. You were its steward. Under your guidance, the Circle has now been delivered safely into the stewardship of the Shepherds. It's the responsibility of the Shepherds now: not just you. Your job is done, and you can release it into other hands." "I guess you could say I was a <i>shepherd</i>," Red jokes. "Herding my little band of sheep away from the wolves and into a better pasture. Now I can close the gate and step away, I suppose, knowing they're safe and taken care of." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"..."' 'dot7dot'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Exactly."' 'exa7ctly'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Red glances over at you. "<<c halfname2>>?" "I'm still trying to process that horrible pun." "I'm very sorry." <<include "red7catches">>

He glances over at you, straight-faced. "I'm sorry for that horrible pun." "As you should be." "I apologize." <<include "red7catches">>

"Personal research," Red says with a slightly wicked grin. "Mostly trying to dig up more information on the Worldwalkers, but I try and contribute to the Shepherds' endeavors from time to time. And, of course, I have to keep up on my own training, training my squad, helping Briony with her magic history or lending a second pair of eyes to Riel's treatises. There's always <i>so much</i> to read and so little time to read it—even if I don't have Archmage duties to attend to." You sigh. "Honestly, I don't know how you stay healthy. It seems like you're always forgetting to eat because your nose is buried in a book." "I'm practically withering away," Red answers gravely. "The last time I had a checkup, the Healer screamed she could count my ribs when I pulled off my shirt." <<include "red7catches">>

"I was probably a middling instructor, at best," Red says ruefully. "I'm better at one-on-one teaching, or really just being left to my own devices and holed up with my own projects. I <i>can</i> teach, but my students were always getting only fair to decent grades. They always seemed… distracted." <ul class="choices"> <<if $redromanceflag gte 10>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I can imagine." If you had Red as an instructor, you imagine you\'d always be distracted, too. <b>[FLIRT]</b></div>' 'ic7animagine'>><<set $redromanceflag += 1>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">"I can imagine." If you had Red as an instructor, you imagine you\'d always be distracted, too. (<i>Flirt</i>)</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link '"You probably didn\'t seem like an authority figure to them."' 'you7probably'>><<setred -5>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I always wanted to teach my own class."' 'ia7lways'>><<setred +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Red shoots you a quizzical look. "What do you mean?" You gesture vaguely at… all of him. "You know. You can be… distracting." Red sits up on his elbows a little and arches his brows at you. "Are you talking about something in particular? Is it my hair? My height?" He pauses significantly. "Or are you referring to my exquisite ugliness?" <<include "red7catches">>

He snorts. "That's probably accurate, though that doesn't quite take out the sting. What gave it away?" You smile. "You just seem like a bit of a soft touch." <<nobr>><<if $education is "Circle-trained">> "It's not like Archmage Tevanti taught me how to be a disciplinarian," he mutters, a bit rebelliously. "He wasn't exactly rapping our knuckles with a ruler or making us stand in the corner for time-out." <<else>> "Well, it's not like I could make them stand in a corner and put them in time-out," he mutters, a bit rebelliously. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "red7catches">>

Red's lips quirk. "I imagine students would be flocking to study under your tutelage. What would you teach? How to become a city-wide hero in less than a year and the main recruiter for an army of Diminished lunatics?" <<nobr>><<if $red gte 70>> <ul class="choices"> <<if $specialization is "battle">><li><<link '"I\'d teach battle magic, of course."' 'teach7battle'>><<setastral +1>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $specialization is "wild">><li><<link '"I\'d teach wild magic, of course."' 'teach7wild'>><<setpsionic +1>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $specialization is "diviner">><li><<link '"I\'d teach divining magic, of course."' 'teach7divining'>><<setpsionic +1>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $specialization is "healer">><li><<link '"I\'d teach healing magic, of course."' 'teach7healing'>><<setastral +1>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $specialization is "elementalist">><li><<link '"I\'d teach elementalism, of course."' 'teach7elementalism'>><<setastral +1>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $specialization is "enchanter">><li><<link '"I\'d teach enchanting magic, of course."' 'teach7enchanting'>><<setpsionic +1>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $specialization is "shifter">><li><<link '"I\'d teach shifting magic, of course."' 'teach7shifting'>><<setarcane +1>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $specialization is "binder">><li><<link '"I\'d teach binding magic, of course."' 'teach7binding'>><<setarcane +1>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $specialization is "conjurer">><li><<link '"I\'d teach conjuration, of course."' 'teach7conjuration'>><<setarcane +1>><<setred +1>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link '"I think I\'d like to teach the basics. The fundamentals of magic, I mean. There\'s nothing like the look on a novice\'s face the first time they learn how to levitate something."' 'i7thi7nk'>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I think I\'d like to teach about magical history. Keep the traditions alive, despite the Autarchy\'s best efforts."' 'teach7history'>><<setloyal -1>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> <<if $strength gte 65>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I think I\'d like to teach weapons training. Magic is all well and good, but the students also need to learn how to defend themselves with everyday tools when magic isn\'t available."</div>' 'teach7weapons'>><<setstrength +1>><<setcourage +1>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">"I think I\'d like to teach weapons training. Magic is all well and good, but the students also need to learn how to defend themselves with everyday tools when magic isn\'t available."</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $heritage is "Elf">><li><<link '"I think I\'d like to teach about the Elven magics. There\'s so little said about them, but the way they could conceal their cities and disorient outsiders was truly amazing."' 'teach7elven'>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $heritage is "Ket">><li><<link '"I think I\'d like to teach about magic and its relation to arma."' 'teach7magic'>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $heritage is "Hunter">><li><<link '"I think I\'d like to teach about magic and its relation to grace."' 'teach7grace'>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $heritage is "Norm">><li><<link '"I think I\'d like to teach about magical lineages and how the Gift can pop up in the strangest of places... even in Norm families with generations of pure-blooded ancestors."' 'teach7lineages'>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link '"I think I\'d like to teach magic that\'s useful against demons and dangerous forces like curses and evil spells."' 'teach7demons'>><<setloyal +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'d want to teach everything."' 'teach7everything'>><<setred +1>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> </ul> <<else>> You smile. "Sounds about right. Why shouldn't we have a whole platoon of me's running around?" <br><br> Red laughs. <<include "well7why">> <</if>><</nobr>>

"And you'd be damn good at it," Red says with a soft, sincere smile on his face. "You'd have a whole army of astral warriors at your beck and call in no time." He looks at you admiringly. <<include "well7why">>

"And you'd be damn good at it," Red says with a soft, sincere smile on his face. "I don't think I've ever seen a Wild Mage progress like you. Before we know it, we're going to have an entire menagerie of our own." He looks at you admiringly. <<include "well7why">>

"And you'd be damn good at it," Red says with a soft, sincere smile on his face. "You're one of the best investigative minds in the whole Order: your skills are invaluable to our work." He looks at you admiringly. <<include "well7why">>

"And you'd be damn good at it," Red says with a soft, sincere smile on his face. "I can't count the number of times you've literally snatched someone from the jaws of sickness, lifelong injury, or even death." He looks at you admiringly. <<include "well7why">>

"And you'd be damn good at it," Red says with a soft, sincere smile on his face. "I've never seen someone as tuned in to the forces of nature as you. It's definitely a sight to behold." He looks at you admiringly. <<include "well7why">>

"And you'd be damn good at it," Red says with a soft, sincere smile on his face. "Though an army of students who are able to charm or manipulate the minds of others sounds quite dangerous, even with you at the helm." He looks at you admiringly. <<include "well7why">>

"And you'd be damn good at it," Red says with a soft, sincere smile on his face. "I don't know if I know anybody who understands the composition of the world as well as you do." He looks at you admiringly.<<include "well7why">>

"And you'd be damn good at it," Red says with a soft, sincere smile on his face. "Everything you create is nothing short of elegant and inventive, if not an outright masterpiece." He looks at you admiringly.<<include "well7why">>

"A $woman after my own heart," Red says, laying a hand on his chest. "And you'd be damn good at it, too." He looks at you admiringly. <<include "well7why">>

Red smiles. "It is an incredible thing to behold. None of us ever forget that moment when we perform our first real spell, do we? It's like the key to the entire universe has been turned." He looks at you admiringly. <<include "well7why">>

"True enough," Red says thoughtfully. "It's one thing to learn practical techniques and methods, but it's just as important to learn context, history, and all the things that came before us." He looks at you admiringly. <<include "well7why">>

"Too true," Red says thoughtfully. "Though battle magic is an option, not everyone has an aptitude for it, and you're right—there are always plenty of situations where we're not able to use it. But anyone can learn how to pick up a sword, and it'd be useful information for our students to know." He looks at you admiringly. <<include "well7why">>

"No one talks about 'the small magics' because the Elves are so secretive about their existence in the first place," Red says thoughtfully. "You can barely pry acknowledgment about them from anyone, and even Tallys is evasive about it. But you're right: it would be an incredibly fascinating area of study." He looks at you admiringly. <<include "well7why">>

Red looks at you in surprise. "<i>Is</i> there a relation between magic and arma?" "That's what my class would be about," you say smugly. He laughs. "I take your point: I'd have to enroll to learn your secrets." Then he looks at you admiringly.<<include "well7why">>

Red looks at you in surprise. "<i>Is</i> there a relation between magic and grace?" "That's what my class would be about," you say smugly. He laughs. "I take your point: I'd have to enroll to learn your secrets." Then he looks at you admiringly.<<include "well7why">>

"Interesting," Red muses. "So it would be about magical genealogy and the hereditary aspects of magic? I don't think anything like that has been thoroughly explored since before the Castigation." He looks at you admiringly. <<include "well7why">>

Red laughs. "A class that teaches defense against the dark arts? I imagine that'd be insanely popular, at least among our people. Blade would probably be over the moon." He looks at you admiringly. <<include "well7why">>

Red laughs. "A $woman after my own heart. I know exactly what you mean. There's just so much to the world, and you just want to learn it all, and share your knowledge with as many people as you can." He looks at you admiringly. <<include "well7why">>

"Well, why not? <<nobr>><<if $rank is "Captain">> I know you have your own squad to train, but I'm sure something could be arranged. No one would object to the Hero of Haven stepping in as a guest instructor, or teaching a few workshops here and there." <<else>> I'm sure it could be arranged. No one would object to the Hero of Haven stepping in as a guest instructor, or teaching a few workshops here and there." <</if>><</nobr>> <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Express enthusiasm for the idea. "That sounds great!"' 'express7enthusiasm'>><<setred +3>><<set $redromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'You hesitate. "Sadly, I don\'t think I have the time..."' 'you7hesitate'>><<setcourage -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'You\'re ambivalent. "Eh, I think it\'s more fun as a fantasy rather than as a reality."' 'youre7ambivalent'>><<setred -3>><</link>></li> </ul>

Red gives you that boyish, charming grin. "Fantastic. Then I'll take a look at the schedules when I get back… I'm sure we could shuffle things around, put up some sort of sign-up sheet…" "I wouldn't want you to go through too much trouble," you begin. "Oh, no, <i>please</i> abuse your connections to me," Red interrupts with genuine sincerity. "I've been dying to find <i>some</i> use for my whole position. This will be the biggest perk of being Archmage that I've ever gotten to use." <<include "red7catches">>

Red cocks his head at you. "Well, you <i>are</i> terribly busy," he agrees after a moment, sounding thoughtful. "I wouldn't blame you for not wanting to take on even more work." Then he lowers his voice conspiratorially. "But remember, you <i>do</i> have pull with the Archmage. <<nobr>><<if $redromanceflag gte 20 or $red gte 70>> And I heard a rumor that he has a soft spot for you. <<else>> And I heard a rumor that he's terribly corrupt and prone to bribery. <</if>><</nobr>> If you ever change your mind, you can just submit a request to his office, and you'll be up to your eyes in students in no time." <<include "red7catches">>

Red cocks his head at you. "Really? That's a shame. I think you'd make a brilliant teacher." <<nobr>><<if $chaseread is true>> Then he gives you a sly, sidelong look. "Besides, if you can get Chase to sit in one spot for more than five minutes so you can teach him his letters, I think you can handle anything." <br><br> <<include "red7catches">> <<elseif $rank is "Captain" and $trainingtime gt 0>> Then he gives you a sly, sidelong look. "Besides, if you can stomach teaching those silly recruits of yours, I'd think you'd find anything more stimulating." <br><br> <<include "red7catches">> <<else>> Then he shrugs. "Well, if you ever change your mind, let me know. I hear you have pull with the Archmage. Just say the word, and he can have you practically drowning in students." <br><br> <<include "red7catches">> <</if>><</nobr>>

He mentioned going to visit them while you and the others were busy in Lockwood, a trip made very easy through the magic of translocation. Red smiles fondly at the memory. "They're doing well, thanks for asking. My parents are still in the same house they've always been in: my father's started turning his attentions to their garden, which has been… rather neglected, over the years, so he was complaining constantly of pests and how there were all sorts of useful spells to keep garden slugs out of your flower beds 'back in the day'—even though 'back in the day' predates his birth by a few hundred years. And my mother has joined a reading circle. Have you heard of those? They're sort of an imitation of how aristocrats host salons and, you know, gatherings for intellectuals and artists in their parlors. But really it's just a bunch of people who decide to read the same book and then talk about it every few sennights. Apparently a lot of drama goes on." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"What kind of drama?"' 'what7drama'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Maybe we should start a reading circle in the Shepherds."' 'maybe7start'>><</link>></li> </ul>

He waves an airy hand. "It's silly stuff, considering the other things we deal with on a daily basis—but in a sense, that was what made it so pleasant to talk about. Instead of nobles trying to kill each other or, you know, the Autarch's sons ascending or demons possessing prominent celebrities, it was just… pitter-patter. Fluff. A neighbor acting terribly smug, or someone pretending to have read the book when everyone could tell they didn't, or a member not hosting the group in their home when it should have been their turn, or someone bringing by very cheap tea-cakes when Madam Marche had contributed a very fine bottle of wine last month." You smile to yourself, enjoying the idyllic mundaneness of it all. "It sounds nice." He smiles back, catching your eyes. "It was. Sometimes you get a little too used to the chaos and strangeness and raw power that goes on in the Shepherds' compound, and you start to think that everywhere is like that. Seeing them and their quiet lives was a nice reminder of the things I want to protect." <<nobr>><<if $redromanceflag gte 20>> He glances away for a brief moment, his smile a little rueful. "One of them, anyway." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "the7nhe">>

He smiles at the thought. "You think so? It could be fun. Riel would join, except he'd burn through the assigned book before the day was out and have to impatiently wait for us to catch up. I imagine Shery and Lavinet would join, too. Possibly Halek. But then everyone else would want to get involved, and then it would just turn into a regular meal…" "We'd all be setting each other on fire arguing about the symbolism behind someone's blue curtains," you joke. He laughs. "True enough. Maybe it's something better left to calmer, normal people, like my mother and her friends." <<include "the7nhe">>

Then he runs a hand through his hair. <<nobr>><<if $redrelationship is "ex" or $redrelationship is "friend">> "Idalia was there, too, by coincidence, and of course Gwyn lives nearby. So we got a chance to catch up, as well." He shoots you a sidelong, sheepish kind of grin. "They were asking about you constantly. They really want you to come visit." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Remain noncommittal. "Maybe someday."' 'remain7noncommital'>><<setred -3>><<set $redromanceflag -= 5>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Act uncomfortable. "I don\'t see why."' 'act7uncomfortable'>><<fair_plus "$red" -10>><<set $redromanceflag -= 10>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Smile. "I\'d love to come by. Whenever it\'s not an imposition."' 'smile7id'>><<setred +3>><<set $redromanceflag += 3>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Act curious. "Is there any particular reason why?"' 'act7curious'>><</link>></li> </ul> <<else>> "My oldest sister, Idalia, was there by coincidence, and my youngest older sister Gwyn—still older than me, I mean, but the closest to me in age—lives nearby, so we had the chance to catch up as well." He looks away and coughs. <<include "talking7to">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Red glances away, his look now distant and polite. "Of course." Then he coughs. <<include "talking7to">>

Red's smile fades, and his brow knits a little. "Well, they find it a very—interesting—coincidence that we've reconnected after all of this time. They'd like to see you and catch up. But of course, there's no pressure. They just wanted me to pass along their regards." Then he looks away and coughs. <<include "talking7to">>

"You would never be an imposition," Red says warmly. "We—they love you. Of course. They'd be over the moon to see you." <<nobr>><<if $redromanceflag gte 20>> He laughs a little, somewhat nervously. "As everyone always is. Obviously." <</if>><</nobr>> Then he looks away and coughs. <<include "talking7to">>

<<nobr>><<if $redromanceflag gte 20>> To your surprise, he laughs, a little too loudly, and rubs the back of his neck. If it weren't so dark, you could almost swear that he's <i>blushing</i>. "None at all. They just love you, of course. We, ah, we all do. Nothing more than that." His voice cracks on the last word, and his eyes dart towards you in disbelief, as if checking to see if you've noticed. At your skeptical look, he coughs. <<include "talking7to">> <<else>> He shrugs lightly. "They find it a very interesting coincidence that we've reconnected after all of this time. So they'd like to see you and catch up, and probably use the opportunity to make me look bad in front of you: as sisters love to do to their brothers. And you will, of course, be a willing instrument in their schemes." <br><br> "Naturally." <br><br> He returns your teasing smile—then suddenly looks away and coughs. <<include "talking7to">> <</if>><</nobr>>

"Talking to them was… an… <i>interesting</i> experience." <i>That</i> sounds like a story. "Interesting how?" "Oh, you know sisters," Red says dryly. "They'll take any opportunity to give their youngest brother a dressing-down. <<nobr>><<if $redromanceflag gte 20 and $redrelationship is "ex">> This time it was about… honesty… and not losing one's nerve… and not letting opportunities pass one by… and past mistakes and regrets. That kind of thing." <br><br> You raise your eyebrows at him. "That is all <i>extremely</i> vague." <br><br> Red flashes you a cheeky kind of grin, quick enough that you think he might be trying to distract you. "Is it? That doesn't sound like me." Then, his voice airy, he changes the subject. "And, of course, they're really pushing for me to settle down. Which seems a bit ridiculous, considering I'm the youngest and none of <i>them</i> have settled down, so why should it be on me? But they seem to think I need a—ah—a <i>taming</i> force in my life. Someone to keep me grounded and not completely lost in the clouds. They've got a very poor idea of me, as you know. It was bad when I was an—<i>adventuresome</i>—teenager, but it seems to have gotten worse as I've gotten older. They're terrified I'm going to die as some sort of crazed hermit bachelor." <<include "interrogateredabouthisfeelings">> <<elseif $redromanceflag gte 20>> They wanted to know when I'm finally going to settle down. Which seems a bit ridiculous, considering I'm the youngest and none of <i>them</i> have settled down, so why should it be on me? But they seem to think I need a—ah—a <i>taming</i> force in my life. Someone to keep me grounded and not completely lost in the clouds. They've got a very poor idea of me, as you can see." <<include "interrogateredabouthisfeelings">> <<else>> They're supportive that I've joined the Shepherds, but they're worried that you're all going to… <i>enable</i> me." <br><br> "Enable you?" you echo. "How so?" <br><br> Red waves a hand. "They think I get a little too obsessed with my studies. Now that I'm given unlimited free time by not having to act as Archmage, and the powerful resources and protection of the Shepherds… how did Idalia put it? Ah, right: she said, 'Scholastically, it's like handing an ape an artillery gun.'" <br><br> <<include "red7catches">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I think you\'re perfect just as you are. You don\'t need anyone to change you."' 'youre7perfect'>><<setred +1>><<if $redrelationship is "ex">><<set $redromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Well, I can sort of see their point. You get so caught up in your studies that you forget to <i>eat</i>."' 'can7sort'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"And? Did you have an answer for them? <i>Are</i> you ready to settle down?"' 'and7ddid'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Red smiles at you, a dimple appearing at his cheek. "Thank you, $halfname2," he says softly. "I'm far from perfect, but I appreciate the sentiment. And I think their point was less that it would be someone's responsibility to change me—but that loving them would show me that there's more to life than dusty books and the past." <<nobr>><<if $redrelationship is "ex">> He laughs a little. "Love would, as Idalia put it, hopefully inspire me to 'pull my head out of my ass.'" <<else>> He pauses significantly. "Which is obviously a complete load of bunk." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "red7catches">>

<<nobr>><<if $redrelationship is "ex">> "Too true," Red says, straight-faced. "But, as you can attest, I <i>am</i> capable of other things besides studying. <<if $ace is true>> When I'm given the proper motivation." <<else>> When I'm given the proper motivation. I daresay I'm very good at those things, too." <</if>> <br><br> <<if $compassionate gte 65>> Despite yourself, you feel a flush creeping up your throat. Is he talking about…? <<else>> You narrow your eyes suspiciously at him. "And what, exactly, would those things be?" <</if>> <br><br> "Bird-watching," Red says blithely. "I'm excellent at spotting blue-spotted warblers, even from a hundred yards away." <br><br> <<include "red7catches">> <<else>> "Too true," Red says, straight-faced. "It would take a person of rare talent and sublime beauty to drag my eyes away from those dusty old books. Honestly, if you think about it, falling in love could very well save my life. Otherwise you might find me as a skeleton in the library someday, starved to death among the shelves." <br><br> <<include "red7catches">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $redromanceflag gte 20>> "I am," Red says frankly, without hesitation. "I don't know that I'd jump straight to marriage tomorrow, but if the person I was interested in felt the same way, I'd pursue things with them in a heartbeat." <br><br> You feel your heart catch slightly at the thought, a tiny painful hitch, like a little twisting corkscrew in your chest. "And… have you found someone like that?" <br><br> Red looks up at the ceiling, his face momentarily unreadable, hidden by the shadows of the room. "My sisters think I have." With that cryptic answer, he suddenly changes the subject. "And if all turned out well, the books, my research—none of that would matter. All my waking moments would be occupied by thoughts of <i>them.</i> There wouldn't be more than a few minutes that I could put them out of my mind. They'd consume me; I'd live and breathe for them." He smiles a little to himself, ruminating on it. "Love is both a blessing and a curse, in that way—it drives you to distraction. But it's something I'd embrace. Whole-heartedly. Life's too short to do otherwise." <br><br> You swallow past the lump in your throat. "That's… surprising to hear." <<if $education is "Circle-trained">> He seems more serious about this than when you've heard him discussing relationships in the past: before, they always seemed like frivolous things, second to his studies, fleeting and casual ways to pass the time. Not <i>declarations</i> or commitments or acts of devotion. <br><br> You wonder what's changed. Or maybe he's just… grown up. <<if $redromanceflag gte 24 or $redrelationship is "ex">> <i>Lucky for whoever gets to end up with him. </i> <</if>> <</if>> <br><br> Red is quiet for a long moment. "Well," he adds finally, "the research would still <i>matter</i>. It'd just be in a really low second place." <br><br> <<include "red7catches">> <<else>> "Well, I'm not looking to marry or start a family anytime soon," Red answers dryly. "But if the right person was interested—of course I'd be open to pursuing something with them. Even if it has been a while." <br><br> "Why so long?" you ask him. <br><br> He flicks his hand nonchalantly. "Never met the right person. And had my mind on other things." <br><br> "Already married to your books," you quip. <br><br> "True. I do have the biggest crush on this theologian who died nine hundred years ago. Her arguments are <i>very</i> stimulating." <br><br> <<include "red7catches">> <</if>><</nobr>>

"…Thank you?" Red laughs a little. "I take my duties as a Shepherd seriously. I've been training and sparring, lifting weights, doing my endurance and stamina regimens. Just like any other Lunar Corps captain. I wouldn't want to be the one who slows the team down." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Why don\'t you ever ask me to train with you?"' 'wh7ydont'>><<setloyal +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Tease him. "And you\'re sure you\'re not doing it for vanity\'s sake?"' 'tease7sure'>><</link>></li> <<if ($magic gte 50 and $arcane gte 50) and $cunning gte 50>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"And you\'re definitely not using Traveling magic to help you out... right?"</div>' 'your7edefinitely'>><<setcunning +1>><<setintelligence +1>><<setred +1>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">"And you\'re definitely not using Traveling magic to help you out... right?"</div>'>><</link>><</if>> </ul>

<<nobr>><<if $strength gte 60>> "Respectfully, <<c halfname2>>, I think we both know you're completely out of my league," Red says humorously. "I don't exactly fancy the idea of you out-lapping me without breaking a sweat while I'm huffing and puffing away. And frankly, the fact that you could count on one hand the minutes it takes you to knock me on my ass is embarrassing." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"You\'re not giving yourself enough credit. You\'ve come close to beating me once or twice."' 'youre7not'>><<setred +1>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'ll go easier on you in the future."' 'ill7go'>><<setred -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Knocking you on your ass is just my way of keeping you humble."' 'knocking7you'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"But isn\'t it better to work up a sweat together than apart?" <b>[INNUENDO]</b>' 'but7iisnt'>><<setcharisma +1>><<set $redromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> </ul> <<else>> "Well, your schedule always seems so busy," Red says ruefully. "Not even counting all of your other duties, you seem to have standing appointments with just about everyone in the Order. If <<if $briony gte 60 and $brionyhate is false>> Briony <<else>> Tallys <</if>> wasn't upset about me cutting in on your training time together, it'd be <<if $aylahate is false>> Ayla, <<else>> Halek, <</if>> or <<if $troublehate is false and $trouble gt $blade>> Trouble <<else>> Blade. <</if>> It feels like I'd have to check in with your own personal secretary just to get five minutes of you watching me wrench my back trying to lift weights." <br><br> <<include "red7catches">> <</if>><</nobr>>

"Oh, thank you very much," Red says dryly. "I'll keep that in mind the next time you watch me wrench my back trying to lift weights." <<include "red7catches">>

"Oh, please don't," Red begs jokingly. "I couldn't stand to be pitied by you, <<c firstname>>. At least leave me with some scrap of dignity and beat me up without holding back." <<include "red7catches">>

"Oh, I'm aware," Red says dryly. <<nobr>><<if $education is "Circle-trained">> "And if I didn't know better, sometimes I'd swear you're taking out some past grievance on me, too." <br><br> "Whatever could you mean?" you ask innocently. <br><br> <<if $redrelationship is "ex">> "I haven't the faintest idea. You're not secretly holding our breakup against me, are you? Exacting your punishment on the field of combat?" <br><br> <<include "red7catches">> <<elseif $redrelationship is "friend">> "I haven't the faintest idea. You <i>were</i> rather strict with me back at the Circle." <br><br> "How could I not be? Between you always getting up to mischief with Pan and me always having to deal with the fallout of your disastrous dating life…" <br><br> "You see? You <i>are</i> holding grudges." <br><br> <<include "red7catches">> <<else>> "I haven't the faintest idea. Maybe that time I placed as top student in Magister Ona's class…" <br><br> "That was <i>one</i> time, and it wasn't even <i>fair</i>. I proved to her that my calculation for Draymi's Theorem was just as valid as the textbook's—" <br><br> "There, you see? You <i>are</i> holding grudges." <br><br> <<include "red7catches">> <</if>> <<else>> "Though I'd argue I don't really do anything that indicates I need to be put in my place. I mean, I'm already fairly deferential with you, aren't I? Or would you rather I become your manservant out of fear that you'll beat me up, otherwise?" <br><br> <<include "red7catches">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Red's head whips around towards you like a startled dog's. He arches his brows, but he says lightly enough, "I didn't realize that manhandling me was your way of flirting, <<c firstname>>." "Why wouldn't it be?" you purr. "Pinning you to the ground and making sure you're sore the next morning? Sure seems like flirting to me." "Ah." Feigning nonchalance, Red innocuously plays with a loose thread on his pillow. "Well, then, feel free to kick my ass anytime." <<include "red7catches">>

"Where does everyone get the idea that I'm <i>vain</i>?" Red asks in an aggrieved voice. "Did Pan put you up to it?" "Oh, please, look at you. It's in your clothes, the way you style your hair—it seems like it takes you hours in front of the mirror, preening and fussing with your pomade every morning!" "You're exaggerating! I time it <i>exactly</i> so I don't hold up anyone else. Eight minutes, on the dot." "The fact that you know you have to time it should tell you everything. And don't think we don't notice the flocks of admiring recruits who always gather and giggle every time you're working out in the training yard. The last time you pulled off your shirt, one of them <i>fainted</i>. And you never tell them to get lost. You probably love the attention." "As if you're one to talk!" Red exclaims with a laugh. "You have an equal number of gawkers, if not higher. And I don't keep them around out of <i>vanity</i>. I've just gotten tired of telling them to go away every time, so I just ignore them." "A likely story. You know what I think? I don't think you train diligently so you 'won't slow down the team.' I think you do it so you won't let down your horde of admirers." "And <i>I</i> think you pay quite a lot of attention to what I'm doing and why. Don't tell me you're jealous, <<c halfname2>>? You know you can always come by and have a glance if you're interested. You don't have to put on all of this pretense." <<include "red7catches">>

There's a long, long pause. Finally Red says, far too innocently: "I have no idea what you're talking about." You gasp in mock-outrage and sit up, slapping your pillow for emphasis. "I <i>knew</i> it!" "All right, so <i>maybe</i> I blink ahead a few steps here or there if I don't think anyone's looking! But can you blame me? The swamp and the muck and the rain is horrible, and not everyone can marathon-sprint through it for hours on end!" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I\'ll keep your secret. But you owe me."' 'ill7keep'>><<setcunning +1>><<setloyal -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'m telling on you. You\'re supposed to be conserving your magic!"' 'im7telling'>><<setloyal +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

"I do," Red says quickly. "I'll do anything to make it worth your while. Your laundry, free shoulder rubs, whatever you want. If Blade ever found out, he'd skin me alive and make me into some kind of rain-proof suit." <<include "red7catches">>

You can't," Red says, mock-aghast. "It's such a low-grade kind of spell that it's barely even a thought at this point: in fact, it <i>saves</i> me energy. But if you tell Blade, he'll skin me alive and make me into some kind of rain-proof suit." <<include "red7catches">>

Red chokes on an incredulous laugh. "What do you mean? As in, would it be possible? Are you asking for her or for you?" "It's a very cerebral, theoretical discussion, completely unrelated to real-life desires," you answer haughtily. "We've just been debating the logistics of it. There's at least one record of a Flameling and a non-Elemental mortal having done the act, if the writings of an ancient personal memoir can be believed." "Of course you looked it up." "As soon as I got back. But we can't, for the life of us, agree on how it could be possible without setting the human on fire, singeing their flesh, or any number of questions." "Well, you mentioned that Angant Hainn was capable of not burning you when you had him captured in the Naveens' dungeon," Red says, intrigued despite himself. "That it was possible to touch him when he was subdued, and that he merely felt warm. So, in that case, wouldn't it be a simple matter of—of manual stimulation?" "You're not seeing the bigger picture, Red." "My mistake." "What about the Flameling? How does one reciprocate for them? They're person-shaped, but don't have any…" "…equivalent erogenous zones?…" "…holes. Or… units?" "How do they procreate with each other, then?" "That's the other thing. There's this whole vague explanation about using the Landsmeet to create their young, presumably shaping them from primeval fire or water or what have you in some sort of asexual reproduction ritual between the parents, and sex is a whole separate thing. But we can't figure the logistics of that out. It's been quite the brainteaser." "Well, you know what you have to do to get answers," Red says sensibly. "Field research." "<i>Field research</i>?" "Yes, of course. You form a hypothesis, conduct your experiment, and see if the results match up with your predictions. It's the only way to know for sure." You laugh at his perfectly mild-mannered, unbothered way of saying it, as if it's a perfectly logical conclusion. "Do you think I could publish my research afterwards?" "Undoubtedly. It'd be groundbreaking stuff. Explosive. Your findings could change the world." <<include "red7catches">>

<<nobr>><<if $redromanceflag gte 22>> He catches your eye as he says this, and for some reason, the absurdity of it all, or the tension of the past days, or just something about the pause between you causes you to erupt into sudden laughter together, trying to muffle it so that the others don't hear you through the walls. But the act of trying to stifle the sounds only makes the situation seem funnier, and soon enough you're giggling helplessly and wiping tears of mirth out of your eyes. Only after a long while does the fit of hilarity subside, and you're left lying there, trying to catch your breath and smiling like fools and staring at each other as your laughter fades into warm, contented silence. <br><br> And then, somehow, as you look at each other, the atmosphere between you subtly changes. You're not sure exactly what does it, if it's any one thing at all. One moment, you're grinning broadly at each other, and the look in Red's eyes as he gazes at you is full of fond, gentle affection, something soft and warm and intimate. The way he's looking at you makes you feel like you're being wrapped in light, and you feel a kind of breathless peace suffuse you, a feeling of—you don't know what else, exactly. Something like close, cradling adoration. <br><br> And then it <i>changes</i>, and his eyes drift to your bed-mussed hair and over the slope of your shoulders and down to the dip of your back… and then he clears his throat awkwardly and looks away. The air in the room changes from innocently funny to tense and weighty and charged. The atmosphere feels laden with a sudden awareness of each other. Your pulse quickens inexplicably. But as sensitive to him as you suddenly feel—to his closeness and warmth, to the scent of him, to the way the moonlight plays against his nose and jawline and the sharp hollow of his throat—you can't read the look on Red's face. Partially because he now seems intent on staring steadfastly at a fixed point on the ceiling. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "red7catchesi">><</link>></center> <<else>> He catches your eye as he says this, and for some reason, the absurdity of it all, or the tension of the past days, or just something about the pause between you causes you to erupt into sudden laughter together, trying to muffle it so that the others don't hear you through the walls. But the act of trying to stifle the sounds only makes the situation seem funnier, and soon enough you're giggling helplessly and wiping tears of mirth out of your eyes. And then, finally, the fit of hilarity abates, and you're left lying there, trying to catch your breath and smiling like fools as your laughter fades into warm, contented silence. <br><br> Red throws a peaceful, gentle smile over to you, relaxing back onto his pillow. "Enough about me," he says warmly. "I want to hear more about you." <br><br> "What about me?" you ask with a quiet laugh. <br><br> "Whatever you want to say," Red says affably. <<if $education is not "Circle-trained">> "I find myself wanting to know everything about you. <<else>> "I'm always endlessly curious about you, <<c halfname2>>. <</if>> How are you feeling? What are you missing back home? Have you ever been to an area like the Bleakmoor before?" <br><br> You spend a long time talking in the dark, sharing your past travels and fears and goals and embarrassing stories, before the warmth and stillness of the room finally draws around you like a dark, heavy blanket. True to your original plan, the two of you fall quiet, tired out from all of your talking—and almost immediately, you begin to drift off together into a peaceful, dreamless slumber, lulled by the sounds of Red's deep, even breathing. <br><br> You fall into a deep ocean of sleep, and you don't wake again until morning. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "breakfastinwallmirei">><</link>></center> <</if>><</nobr>>

After a long, awkward moment, Red clears his throat and twists to face you again, propping his head up on one elbow. "<<c halfname2>>?" Your heart is still kicking like a rabbit's. "Yes?" He sucks in a breath, seems to steel his nerves, then clearly decides to throw himself in headfirst. "This is going to sound—forward. And possibly insane. <<nobr>><<if $redrelationship is "ex">> But… do you ever think about…?" <br><br> You eye him warily. "About…?" <br><br> <<include "he7makes">> <<else>> But can I ask you a question?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"You don\'t need to even ask. You know you can always ask me anything."' 'you7ddont'>><<setred +3>><<set $redromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Sure?"' 'he7makes'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"What is it?"' 'he7makes'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"It depends on what the question is."' 'he7makes'>><<setred -3>><<set $redromanceflag -= 2>><</link>></li> </ul> <</if>><</nobr>>

He smiles briefly. "I know." <<include "he7makes">>

He makes a gesture to indicate the space between the two of you. "Is it just me, or… is there an <i>energy</i> between us?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"An energy? Like a magical energy? Thermodynamic?"' 'an7energy'>><<setintelligence -3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"What kind of energy?"' 'wha7tkind'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I think it\'s just you."' 'just7you'>><<set $redromanceflag to 0>><</link>></li> </ul>

Red looks positively mortified. "No, not like a curse or a spell. It's more like… magnetism. I mean—the kind of energy—when two people are—when two people want to…" <<include "choi7ces">>

Red looks vaguely mortified. "Well, the kind of energy that happens when two people are… when two people want to…" <<nobr>><<if $redrelationship is "ex">> <br><br> He scrubs a hand through his hair in sudden agitation. "The kind of energy that <i>used</i> to be between us, if you catch my drift." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "choi7ces">>

Red takes a breath. "Ah. I'd wondered. Sorry. You can forget I said anything, then. I just wanted to clear that up." <<include "kidsinterrupt">>

Red groans and grinds the heels of his palms into his eyes. <<nobr>><<if $redrelationship is "ex">> "I could be wrong, but sometimes you look at me <i>exactly</i> the way you used to before we'd sneak away from class and…" He trails off meaningfully. "And <i>I</i>—try as I might, I'm still <i>wildly</i>—" <<else>> "I could swear that you look at me in a certain way, sometimes," he begins, "and if I'm not totally mistaken, I think there's a reason for that look. And <i>I</i>—I'm <i>wildly</i>—" <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "kidsinterrupt">>

Red groans and grinds the heels of his palms into his eyes. "I don't want to make anything uncomfortable," he begins. "And if I'm completely out of my mind, feel free to let me know. I just thought it would be best to…" <<include "kidsinterrupt">>

Red rubs the back of his neck uneasily. "I'm hopeful my instincts are right," he admits. "But I'm more concerned about your feelings, what you want. Am I right about any of this, or am I completely out of my mind?" You take a breath. <<include "kidsinterrupt">>

Red smiles, the look full of relief and gladness. "Right. Well, I'm glad I haven't been wildly misinterpreting things. But I have to say that I—for me—" <<include "kidsinterrupt">>

Red laughs, a little unevenly. "I tried to hold off on it," he admits. "But, you know, we're here, in a room alone together, not sure when we'll get the chance to talk in private again, and there's nothing like looming danger and death that makes you want to throw caution to the wind while you still can. So I know it's unusual timing, but you <i>did</i> want to take my mind off of the investigation." He looks at you, a little more soberly, and his voice softens. "You can be honest with me, <<c firstname>>. Am I completely out of my mind?" You take a breath. <<include "kidsinterrupt">>

The sudden silence in the room makes the temperature drop like a guillotine. Red takes an unsteady breath. "Well," he says awkwardly. "I'm glad that's… clear. And I'm sorry if I… misinterpreted things, or made you uncomfortable in any way. You can forget I said anything. I just thought it would be best to—" <<include "kidsinterrupt">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span><i>Knock! Knock! Knock!</i></span></div></div>' "kidsinterrupti">><</link>></center>

The two of you freeze in your beds. Someone's at the bedroom door. After a long, painful moment of silence, Red wordlessly rises to his bare feet and approaches the door, cracking it open to reveal a pair of tousle-headed twins, both of them looking distinctly alert and awake. "Oh," Red says in a hushed voice as you crane to peer from your bed. With the door open, you can hear the sounds of someone's snoring from down the hallway, but otherwise, the rest of the house is silent. "Hi. Are we keeping you awake?" "Sort of," Surya answers, brushing unceremoniously past him and surveying the room with her hands on her hips—as if inspecting the place to make sure that you haven't tampered unduly with her things. Cyril trails after her, looking apologetic. "Cyril forgot his stuffy in here, and he can't sleep without it." "I can so," Cyril hisses. "I was just worried that it might get thrown away—" "Uh-huh. So we came to get it. We knew you were still awake because we could hear you talking." That makes both you and Red tense up again. "You can hear us?" he asks in a strangled whisper. You immediately start doing calculations in your head: the room where Surya and Cyril are staying with their parents is the one right next to yours, and Blade and Trouble are staying in the room on the other side of them. The details of your conversation being overheard by any of your other teammates is close to impossible, but the twins themselves could have heard snatches… if they were pressing their ears to the adjoining wall. Which they very well could have been. "Well, we couldn't tell what you were saying, we just knew that you were awake," Surya answers, breezily watching as Cyril moves forward and crouches to peer underneath your bed. Then she turns to eye the two of you and your uncomfortable postures with a beady, gimlet stare. "Are you two up to something?" Red makes a small choking sound. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"What makes you say that?"' 'what7say'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"No, we aren\'t."' 'no7we'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Yes, we are."' 'yes7we'>><<setcourage +1>><<setcharisma -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Address Cyril. "Did you find your stuffy yet?"' 'found7it'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

"You look guilty," she says bluntly. "Like you've been caught with your fingers in the pie." <<include "found7it">>

"Oh," she says, guilelessly unconcerned. "Well, you <i>look</i> awfully guilty. Like you've been caught with your fingers in the pie." <<include "found7it">>

"Really?" She turns to you and raises her chin in an imperious manner. "Like what?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Grown-up things."' 'grown7up'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"We\'re talking about our mission."' 'were7talking'>><<setcunning -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"It\'s none of your business."' 'its7none'>><<setcompassionate -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"We\'re talking about energy."' 'were7talkingabout'>><<set $redromanceflag += 1>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

That does the trick: she immediately looks disinterested. "Oh, really? That sounds dull." <<include "found7it">>

Surya's eyes brighten eagerly. "What about it? Do you know what to do about the Terror?" "We should probably keep it to ourselves for now," Red breaks in diplomatically. "Do some of our investigating in the morning." <<include "found7it">>

Surya shoots you a look of dislike. "Fine, then. It was probably boring, anyway." <<include "found7it">>

Surya gives you a strange look while Red covers his face with one hand. "Oh, really? I already know all about that." She clearly doesn't—she's just saying so in order to save face and look mature—but at least the topic no longer seems to interest her. <<include "found7it">>

"Found it!" Cyril extracts a limp, colorless stuffed animal of unknown shape and species from under your bed and tucks it protectively under his arm. To you, he bobs a quick and polite bow. "Thank you. Sorry to disturb you." The twins make their way back to the bedroom door. As she turns to pull it shut behind her, Surya suddenly declares, "And no kissing in our room! We don't want any germs!" The door falls shut on Cyril's mortified cry of "<i>Surya</i>!", and after a moment of quiet bickering, the sounds of their footsteps patter away. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "found7iti">><</link>></center>

Red finally turns to look at you, and the look of absolute disbelief and dismay on his face is almost enough to send you back into a laughing fit again. But the atmosphere is too tense and awkward to allow for that, so it's in total silence that he makes his way back to his bed and falls face-down onto it with a dull <i>whump</i>. "Well, that was something," he finally says, raising his face from his pillow enough to whisper to you from the darkness. He sends you a brief, forced smile, indistinct and stilted—but still with a trace of his usual wry irony. "It's clear that sound carries more than might have been expected, so maybe we should just turn in for the night. We can… talk some other time. If you want. Under better circumstances." You nod faintly, still unsure of what just happened. And what on earth made Surya even say that bit about kissing? <i>It's not the time to be worrying about something like that, not right now</i>. "Sounds like a plan to me." You can't imagine trying to carry on any kind of conversation after the twins just stormed in. So Red nods and bids you good night, and the two of you finally turn in for the evening, the warmth and stillness of the room drawing inextricably around you like a heavy blanket. Slowly, you manage to calm your racing pulse and begin to drift into a faded, cottony slumber. From the sounds of Red's restless tossing and turning, though—and the disheveled and haggard expression on his face when you wake up—you'd guess that he doesn't get a wink of sleep all night. But if that's true, he doesn't breathe a word of it to you in the morning. In fact, he remains unusually quiet and pensive as you get ready for the day, and when your eyes happen to meet in the bathroom mirror again, he looks away from you as if he'd been burned. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "breakfastinwallmire2">><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<if $troubleromanceflag gte 25>> Trouble grins, clearly pleased you've chosen to bunk with him. <<elseif $trouble gte 70>> Trouble smiles briefly. <</if>><</nobr>> "Sounds good," he says, stretching his arms over his head. "Guess that leaves the other room to—?" "I can take the couch," Red says easily. "I'm tall, but I'm used to crashing on all kinds of furniture." Chase turns to Blade with a lopsided, sharp-toothed grin. Blade eyes him sidelong like a suspicious horse that knows its rider is about to get up to something tricky and tiresome. "Guess that leaves you and me, Spike." "Joy," Blade deadpans, already beginning to make his way to the other room. Everyone bids you good night, and you and Trouble take your packs and move into the <i>heguman's</i> guest room. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "troublesroomi">><</link>></center>

He laughs softly. "That's true. I don't mean to imply otherwise. I just… want to make sure you're good." He shrugs ruefully, aware that he keeps repeating himself. "You know." <<include "troublesroomii">>

He nods sleepily. "Mm. Least I can do. You know I'm still your Vice-Commander, right?" You snort. "Trying to lord your rank over me again?" "Nah. But figure I've got a duty to my greenie recruit, you know?" "Shove it. At this point, this <i>greenie recruit's</i> been around almost as long as you have." "And done more," he says amiably. "But I still got to watch your back." <<include "troublesroomii">>

He laughs softly. "True. But—I can't help it. You know I'm still your Vice-Commander, right?" You snort. "Trying to lord your rank over me again?" "Nah. But figure I've got a duty to my greenie recruit, you know?" "Shove it. At this point, this <i>greenie recruit's</i> been around almost as long as you have." "And done more," he says amiably. "But I still got to watch your back." <<include "troublesroomii">>

Trouble blows out a long sigh. "Yeah. Me, too. I'm trying not to think about it. It's like—we see some ugly business, in our line of work. Hael, I've done some ugly things myself. But certain things I see, I can rationalize. Contract killing? Okay, motivated by money, usually greed or desperation. Crimes of passion? Sure. Even demons—they get stronger from causing violence, hurting people. It's in their nature. So it's awful, I don't condone it, but I <i>get it</i>. It's just part of the way the world works, sometimes. It makes <i>sense</i>. But stuff like this… the stuff where you just… <i>don't know</i>… that eats at me. Is it like that for you, too?" You nod. "It's a lot of things. But let's just say it's eating at me, too." <<include "troublesroomii">>

You both fall silent for a while before Trouble stirs again. "You want to hear something my mother told me? She used to say that dark thoughts are like rats. You've got to scare them off with a light before you go to bed, or else they'll gnaw at your stuff while you're asleep. …Kind of a morbid thing to tell a toddler, I suppose, but that's an Ashtown woman for you." <<nobr>><<if $trouble gte 70 and $troublehate is false>> <br><br> He turns to you and smiles, the outline of his hair sticking up a little in the dark. "So, uh, let me be a light for you. If you ever need one, that is." <br><br> Implicit in the idea is that he's troubled by dark thoughts, too—and that talking to him means that you can be his light. If you want to be. <</if>><</nobr>> <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Continue to make conversation with him.' 'continue7conversation'>><<settrouble +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Tell him that you\'re tired, and you both need to get some rest.' 'tell7him'>><<if $troubleromanceflag gte 10>><<set $troubleromanceflag -= 5>><<settrouble -3>><</if>><</link>></li> </ul>

You roll over further to face him. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"You don\'t talk much about your mother. Do you remember much else about her?"' 'your7mother'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"How are you feeling, keeping up with the rest of the group? You\'re managing surprisingly well, despite not having magic and... Blade being Blade."' 'how7feeling'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'m surprised to hear you talk like this. Normally you never seem afraid of anything. Do you even have any fears?"' 'im7surprised'>><<setcharisma -3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Let\'s talk about something happy. I hear you\'ve been receiving quite the number of love letters back at the compound."' 'talk7about'>><</link>></li> <<if ($troublehate is false and $courage gte 65) and ($trouble gte 75 or $troubleromanceflag gte 25)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"...Do you want to push our beds together? I think being close could help... chase away the darkness."</div>' 'push7bbeds'>><<if $troubleromanceflag gte 25>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 5>><</if>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">"...Do you want to push our beds together? I think being close could help... chase away the darkness."</div>'>><</link>><</if>> </ul>

Trouble laughs ruefully, running a hand through his hair. "I suppose I don't talk about her <i>because</i> I don't remember much," he says after a moment. "I was only three or four when she died. So what I do remember are… impressions, mostly, bits and pieces. Sometimes I wonder if I just dreamed them, and I'm just remembering the dream, or some other woman said that thing to me and I'm just recalling it wrong. But I remember that she was beautiful. Really warm. Everyone in the neighborhood was always glad to see her, always hurrying to open the door when she was carrying me or giving her something extra when she bought meat from the butcher or milk from the butterer. She had blond hair, like mine, always in a big braid on her shoulder. Her hands were always dry, chapped, you know, from washing laundry. I remember her apron really clearly, because I was always hiding behind her skirts or toddling towards it. It was like a big white curtain, always really clean and nice-smelling." He pauses. "And that's… that's pretty much it. I remember some soups she made, a little of what our house—if you can call it that—looked like. I couldn't tell you where it was anymore, though. I've always wondered if someone else is living there now, or if the whole thing's gone." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"She sounds lovely."' 'she7sounds'>><<setcharisma +1>><<settrouble +1>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"We should go looking for that house, sometime. Maybe you could find something there of your past."' 'we7should'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"And you really never wondered who your father was? Whether he could be out there?"' 'and7you'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

"From what I can remember, anyway," Trouble says airily. Then he turns to look at you, the gold in his eyes glinting in the dark like coins. "What about you? Tell me about your parents." Then he amends hastily, "I mean… if you want to. I understand if you don't." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Tell him some of your memories of your childhood, your family.' 'tell7some'>><<settrouble +1>><<set $traumatized -= 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Decline to talk about it. The memories are still too raw.' 'decline7to'>><<set $traumatized += 1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Trouble listens as you talk haltingly of your memories of <<nobr>><<if $heritage is "Elf">> Vale, <<elseif $heritage is "Ket">> Drummond's Point, <<elseif $heritage is "Norm">> Westwood, <<else>> Maj, <</if>><</nobr>> of your idle days with Zori and the little things you and your parents used to do together. They would have liked him, you think, his honest salt-of-the-earth demeanor. <<nobr>><<if $trouble gte 70 or $troubleromanceflag gte 20>> But then again, it's hard for anyone to not like Trouble. <</if>><</nobr>> You chat for a long while, in the warmth and stillness of the dark room, before eventually, together, the two of you both drift off into a peaceful, dreamless sleep. <<include "troublesgoodnight">>

Trouble nods gravely. "I get it." Then he deftly changes the subject, entertaining you for a while with stories from his childhood, the wild and ridiculous antics he would get up to as a street urchin, the deadly brawls that he sometimes partook in. You chat for a long while, in the warmth and stillness of the dark room, before eventually, together, the two of you both begin to drift off into a peaceful, dreamless sleep. You don't wake again until morning. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "breakfastinwallmirei">><</link>></center>

"Maybe," Trouble acknowledges nonchalantly. "I suppose it would be possible to retrace my steps. But it was decades ago—and I'm pretty sure I was turned out because the landlord evicted me and threw out our things, soon as my mum was cold in the ground. Pretty fucked up, if you think about it. Arta says that if I hadn't wandered off and she'd known that my mother had died, she would have come to collect me, or at least made sure I was accepted into an orphanage. Can you imagine what life would be like, then? Maybe I'd never have joined a gang… been kidnapped by the Equalists… met Blade or joined the Shepherds…" He pauses. "Then you or I would have never met." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"That would have been awful."' 'that7would'>><<settrouble +3>><<if $troubleromanceflag gte 20>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I wonder what you\'d be now? The wealthy adopted playboy son of some noble family?"' 'i7wonder'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Wouldn\'t you have preferred to avoid a lot of that, though? Like the Equalists part?"' 'wouldnt7you'>><<setloyal -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Life\'s funny like that, I suppose."' 'lifes7funny'>><</link>></li> </ul>

He grins at you, the expression bright even through the shadows of the room. "Right? So it all turned out for the better, I think." <<nobr>><<if $troubleromanceflag gte 20>> He looks away and mumbles, "Can't imagine what life would be like without you in it." <br><br> You smile to yourself. "Likewise." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "troubleandmcanotherlife">>

You chat for a while about other lives you could have led, different decisions and what paths they could have taken you on. But, eventually, the warmth and stillness of the room draws inextricably around you, and together, almost simultaneously, you begin to drift off into dreamless sleep. <<include "troublesgoodnight">>

He laughs. "Hardly—it's not like the noble families are in the habit of adopting waifs and urchins. More likely I'd be a blacksmith, or maybe a soldier. Or even…" He shudders. "Maybe even a Vice-Guard." Then he looks over at you. "What about you? I wonder, if you hadn't <<nobr>><<if $education is "Circle-trained">> gone to the Circle, say, where you'd be or who you'd be right now?" <<elseif $education is "Journeyman">> met your master, that Belnus, where you'd be or who you'd be right now?" <<else>> taken that job protecting Prihine in Brunen, where you'd be right now?" <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "troubleandmcanotherlife">>

He shrugs. "Nah. I mean—it'd be <i>nice</i> not to have been kidnapped and tortured as a kid, sure. But I like where I am now. I wouldn't trade it for the world. So if all of that was necessary for me to wind up here, I'm at peace with that." <<nobr>><<if $troubleromanceflag gte 20>> He glances at you for a moment, his eyes soft, before quickly glancing away again. "What about you? Where do you think you'd be, if you hadn't taken that job to protect Prihine in Brunen?" <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "troubleandmcanotherlife">>

Trouble nods. "What about you? Where do you think you'd be, if you hadn't taken that job in Brunen to protect Prihine?" <<include "troubleandmcanotherlife">>

Trouble grunts. "I mean, I've <i>wondered</i>. Mostly I've wondered why he left—not what he was like, or who he was, but why he didn't want to stay with us. I don't remember my mum ever talking about him, or telling me he'd be home soon, or that he was dead, or anything like that—and I must have asked. But since she never said a word about it, she either didn't know who he was, or she hated him for leaving, or something." He falls silent for a moment. "Even if I could find him today, I'm not particularly inclined to meet him—feels like it'd just be a disappointment. Either he'd be a heel, and that'd be that, or he'd have a good and solid reason for leaving, and then I'd just end up feeling bitter that I'd hated him all that time or that we could have had a relationship, after all. Or he'd be dead, and I'd have gotten my hopes up for nothing. Or he'd just be… normal, and I'd have built him up in my head to be more, and that would be disappointing in a way, too." He shrugs. "I dunno. It's a common enough story in Ashtown, really; it's not like I'm a special case. And I guess I'm… just happy with how my life is now. I don't feel a particular need to go out looking for anything else. I've got all I need right here, right now." <<nobr>><<if $troubleromanceflag gte 20>> You think you catch him glancing at you for a moment, his eyes soft and considering, before he quickly glances away again. <<else>> He glances at you. <</if>><</nobr>> "What about you? You ever… wonder who your birth parents are?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'You shrug. "Not really. My adopted parents are my parents, as far as I\'m concerned."' 'you7shrug'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'You nod. "All the time. Sometimes the idea that I could have a living family out there really digs at me."' 'you7nod'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'You sigh. "Sometimes. Mostly, like you, I wonder why they left me."' 'you7sigh'>><<settrouble +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'You stare up at the ceiling. "I did when I was younger. Now, as an adult, I think of it less and less."' 'you7stare'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'You scowl. "Not at all. They\'re scum, as far as I\'m concerned. Not worth wasting my thoughts on."' 'you7scowl'>><</link>></li> </ul>

He nods. "Yeah. They're the ones who raised you, after all, and loved you and protected you. Anything else is… an academic question, not something really momentous." <<include "talk7quietly">>

Trouble makes a sympathetic humming sound. "I get that. It's a lot of questions without many answers." He pauses for a moment. "But… I hope… at least for me, the Shepherds <i>are</i> my family now, and once I started thinking of that, I felt more at peace. I'd die for any one of 'em." <<nobr>><<if $troubleromanceflag gte 20>> He looks at you, then away, clearing his throat awkwardly. "…Especially you. And any one of 'em would die for you. <<elseif $trouble gte 70>> He smiles easily at you. "Especially you. And any one of 'em would die for you. <<else>> He smiles. "And anyone of 'em would die for you. <</if>><</nobr>> And that's something, isn't it?" <<include "talk7quietly">>

Trouble makes a sympathetic humming sound. "Didn't have anything to do with you, anyway," he says. "You were just a little baby. Whatever made them do it, that's on them." <<include "talk7quietly">>

Trouble makes a humming sound. "That's pretty much the same for me, too." <<include "talk7quietly">>

Trouble makes a humming sound. "Pretty much how I feel about my dad." <<include "talk7quietly">>

You talk quietly for a while, about your childhoods, about the Shepherds, before the warmth and stillness of the room closes inextricably around you. Together, almost as one, the two of you begin to drop into a sound and dreamless slumber. <<include "troublesgoodnight">>

Trouble makes a grunting sound. "You think? I'm a little miffed that Red's managing better than I am. I mean, I've got stamina, I'm strong. You want me to lift a barrel and carry it up a mountain? I can do it. You want me to wrestle a bull down to the ground? Sure. But long-distance sprinting isn't exactly my thing. I'm not built for it, and that's fine. Blade's trying to be mindful, and I'm not pushing myself harder than I need to. But <i>Red</i>—" <<nobr>><<if $education is "Circle-trained">> "I know you're going to comment on how he just reads books all day," you note, "but he was on the Circle's swimming and rowing teams. He's quite an athlete." <<else>> "I know you're going to comment on how he just reads books all day," you note, "but he is actually quite athletic." <</if>><</nobr>> "I mean, sure, fine, he can swing that big-ass hammer around, but—" "Well, that's magic. So's the running, a bit, anyway. I think he's adding a little Traveling magic to boost his speed." "He's <i>what</i>?" Trouble looks outraged and offended, as if he just found out that Red's been cheating at a race. You laugh and state, "That doesn't explain Chase, though. He's just as Norm as you are." "I don't think he's even human," Trouble mutters darkly. "I think he's the spawn of some trickster god, or something. Or he's got a little Mage blood in him—or <i>something</i>. He's downright eerie, sometimes. And he's always lying about his past. Do you know, there was an Equalist branch in Conte? You don't think they gave Chase some strange power, too?" "I think he would have mentioned that by now." "You never know, with him." You laugh and chat and joke for a long while, in the warmth and stillness of the dark room, before eventually, together, the two of you both drift off into a peaceful, dreamless sleep. <<include "troublesgoodnight">>

<<nobr>><<if $troubleromanceflag gte 30>> Just before you fade out, you think you feel Trouble reach over and clumsily muss your hair, the gesture full of affection and precious closeness. "Good night, <<c halfname>>," he mumbles, patting your head. His broad, warm hand lingers briefly on the crown of your hair. You close your eyes and sleep deeply, comforted by the strength of him, feeling as if a shadow has passed from the door. <br><br> You don't wake again until morning. <<else>> You don't wake again until morning. <</if>><</nobr>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "breakfastinwallmirei">><</link>></center>

Trouble mock-scowls. "One: I didn't say I was <i>afraid</i>. Just that I've got some stuff on my mind. And two: sure, I've got fears. I'm afraid of drowning, for example." "You <i>are</i>?" "I'm a city kid," Trouble grouses, as if this is an argument he's been over several times. "Where in Hael would I have learned to swim? Who'd have taught me?" Then he laughs a little. "You should see me in water—I sink like a boulder. Blade says I look like my bones are weighed with metal." "Have you ever tried to learn as an adult?" you ask curiously. Trouble shrugs. "Nah. I'm never around big bodies of water—never saw the point." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I could teach you."' 'could7teach'>><<settrouble +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You just need the right motivation." <b>[FLIRT]</b>' 'just7nneed'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"That\'s true. And I\'d always be around to save you, anyway, if you were drowning."' 'thats7true'>><<settrouble +3>><<if $troubleromanceflag gte 20>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You really should learn. What if you see a drowning child, or you get swept away by a river? Even the Bleakmoor itself is full of water."' 'should7learn'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

He smiles at you, one dimple showing at his right cheek. "Thanks, <<c halfname>>. <<nobr>><<if $chaseread is true>> Maybe someday. Besides, I get the feeling you're already busy enough with teaching Chase how to read." <br><br> "You know about that?" you ask in surprise. <br><br> He shrugs. "Sure. I mean, he didn't exactly say it, but I knew he couldn't read before, and suddenly now he can, and you've been spending a lot of time together. It's not hard to figure out." He grins at you. "So maybe when he's graduated, I'll join <<c firstname>>'s Program for Rehabilitating Helpless Street Urchins, and you can teach me how to swim, then. After that, maybe you can teach Ayla how to dance, or something." <br><br> You blush. "That's not—" <br><br> He barrels on with a laugh. <<else>> Maybe someday." He laughs. <</if>><</nobr>> "Mostly I feel like I've got to seem heroic around you, and watching your Vice-Commander flail around like a drowning cat's not going to look pretty." You roll your eyes. "We've been through so much more than that, Trouble. It's not like we can be embarrassed around each other, at this point." He laughs again. "True. Well, what about you? Does the great Hero of Haven have any fears?" <<include "troublesfears">>

You spend some time talking about various things, from fears to dreams to embarrassing stories and beyond, before the warmth and stillness of the room closes inextricably around you. Simultaneously, the two of you fall silent, and almost immediately, you begin to drift off into dreamless slumber. <<include "troublesgoodnight">>

Trouble yawns casually. "What, like a bet? I suppose that could work, if the pot was big enough. I dunno who'd bet that I can't learn to swim, though." "No, that's…" You sigh. "Never mind." You laugh and chat and joke for a long while, in the warmth and stillness of the dark room, before eventually, together, the two of you begin to drift off into a peaceful, dreamless sleep. <<include "troublesgoodnight">>

He smiles at you, a small dimple forming at his right cheek. <<nobr>><<if $troubleromanceflag gte 20>> His eyes are soft and warm as they regard you. <</if>><</nobr>> "Yeah," he says quietly. "I know." Then he looks away and clears his throat. "And, you know, likewise. I mean, I'd drown, too, but at least we'd go out together. But in all matters non-aquatic, I've got your back." You laugh and chat and joke for a long while, in the warmth and stillness of the dark room, before eventually, together, the two of you both drift off into a peaceful, dreamless sleep. <<include "troublesgoodnight">>

Trouble scowls, this time in earnest. "Yes, fine, I take your point. At some point in my increasingly-busy life as Vice-Commander of the Shepherds, I'll learn how to swim. Until then, if you look back and see me flailing in a puddle like a drowning cat, help me out, would you?" <<include "troublesfears">>

Trouble rolls his eyes. "Oh, <i>that</i>. It's true, but it's nothing special. <i>Everyone's</i> been getting love letters. The damn greenies are obsessed with pretty much all of the captains. Chase and Briony and Lavinet and Red's boxes are overflowing. Hael, I even saw some girls slipping letters into <i>Blade's</i> box, and he's the one who came up with the policy that Shepherds shouldn't fraternize in the first place! Idiots. It's easy to get little crushes and infatuations on commanding officers, seems like." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Have you responded to any letters?"' 'you7responded'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"It\'s not as if receiving love letters is <i>automatic</i>. You\'re clearly popular, and it\'s not just because you\'re Vice-Commander. It\'s because you\'re handsome, and brave, and good, and forthright..."' 'love7letters'>><<if $troubleromanceflag gte 25>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Speaking of... I\'ve never heard you talk about exes. Do you have any?"' 'speaking7of'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Trouble snorts. "Fuck no. I throw 'em away without reading 'em." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Rebuke him. "Trouble! That\'s so unkind!"' 'rebuke7him'>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Really? Why?"' 'really7why'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I take it that means that no one\'s caught your eye, then?"' 'i7take'>><</link>></li> </ul>

He huffs and rolls away from your light, chiding arm-slap. "Not really! It's not as if any of them mean it—it's kinder to just save them the embarrassment and not read their letters, rather than risk giving them ideas! And anyway, none of them even <i>know</i> me. They couldn't possibly—you know—<i>be in love</i> with me. Their letters don't really mean much, if you think of that." Then he shakes his head. <<include "and7anyway">>

He snorts. "It's not as if any of them mean it: they don't know me, so how could they be in love with me? Better to not read their notes, so that when the besottedness passes, they're not embarrassed." "That… is so… backwards." "Hah, maybe." Then he shakes his head. <<include "and7anyway">>

<<nobr>><<if $troubleromanceflag gte 20>> Trouble is suddenly very distracted by something on the ceiling. "Well, definitely not any of the letter-writers," he mutters. "Silly sots." Then he abruptly changes the subject. <<else>> He shrugs. "Nope." Then he abruptly changes the subject. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "and7anyway">>

"And anyway, no courting within the Shepherds, remember? And as Vice-Commander, I've got to uphold the law." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Trouble, your name is literally <i>trouble</i>. You are constantly breaking the rules and rebelling against authority. That\'s kind of your thing."' 'trouble7yyour'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> <<if $troubleromanceflag gte 20>><li><<link '"I bet you\'d change your mind, if you met the right person." Even if your heart sits heavy in your chest at the thought.' 'bet7youd'>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $troubleromanceflag lt 20>><li><<link '"I bet you\'d change your mind, if you met the right person."' 'if7met'>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link '"That\'s true, I suppose."' 'trouble7sits'>><</link>></li> </ul>

He's silent for a moment, staring up at the ceiling. "Damn, you're right." You roll your eyes. Then he looks at you. "But not with any of <i>them</i>. It'd feel wrong. They're mostly just raw recruits, you know—it's like they're… my students, or something, even if some of them are even older than me. It wouldn't feel right." "Fair enough," you say, suppressing a smile. He is such a rebel, sometimes, but he's also so honest, and his sense of right and wrong is very strong. A walking paradox of a man. <<include "trouble7sits">>

You keep your tone light and playful, though, and Trouble eyes you sidelong. "Maybe," he says, his tone neutral, turning his eyes up to the ceiling again after a moment. "I mean… yeah, I would. I wouldn't give a damn about any rule, if—well, you know. And if they loved me back." <<include "trouble7sits">>

Trouble laughs a little. "I suppose you're right," he says. "They always say love is like a madness, where you'd do anything, break any law, ignore any danger, just to be with that person. That <i>does</i> sound like me." <<include "trouble7sits">>

He sits up on his elbow and looks at you. "Anyway, don't you try to play modest. If anyone's getting a mountain of love letters, it's <i>you</i>, O Hero of Haven." <<include "troublelovetalk">>

You laugh and chat and joke for a long while, about all manner of subjects, in the warmth and stillness of the dark room. Finally, together, the two of you begin to drift off into a peaceful, dreamless sleep. <<include "troublesgoodnight">>

"Well, thank you for saying that," Trouble says begrudgingly, "but I don't see how <i>they</i> could know a thing about it. The extent of our relationship is generally me barking orders at them and bawling at them while they do drills." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Some people like that sort of thing..."' 'some7people'>><</link>></li> <<if $charisma gte 65 and $trouble gte 60>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"That\'s not true. You drink with them, sometimes, and look after them, and give them pointers or extra lessons if they\'re struggling. You\'re kind to them, and they feel at ease with you."</div>' 'not7ttrue'>><<if $troubleromanceflag gte 25>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">"That\'s not true. You drink with them, sometimes, and look after them, and give them pointers or extra lessons if they\'re struggling. You\'re kind to them, and they feel at ease with you."</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link '"Some people do admire others from afar, you know."' 'people7do'>><</link>></li> </ul>

<<nobr>><<if $troubleromanceflag gte 30>> "Huh." He glances at you sidelong, thoughtfully. "…Duly noted." <<else>> He snorts. "Duly noted." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "thenhe7sits">>

"You're the fun superior officer, even if you yell," you point out. "Especially compared to Blade and Tallys, who seem unapproachable… or, you know, Riel." He glances at you in surprise. "Didn't know you took note of all that stuff, <<c halfname>>." You smile ruefully. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"It\'s not hard to notice, dummy."' 'notice7dummy'>><<settrouble +1>><<if $troubleromanceflag gte 20>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'m your friend, Trouble. Of course I notice."' 'im7your'>><<settrouble +1>><<if $troubleromanceflag gte 25>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I notice everything."' 'notice7everything'>><<setintelligence +1>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

He grins at you. "I know—I'm a real blockhead. I don't know how you put up with me." <<include "thenhe7sits">>

He grins up at the ceiling in response, boyish and pleased. <<include "thenhe7sits">>

"Huh," he says again. "I guess you do." <<include "thenhe7sits">>

He sighs. "I know," he says, a tad sullenly. "I mean, I know it happens, but I don't really get it. Feel like you've got to know someone first before you fall in love with them. Like, really know them, you know? It's got to be based on—on companionship, and trust, and truth. Otherwise it just feels like it's about lust or infatuation—looks, you know, and looks change." <<include "thenhe7sits">>

Then he sits up on his elbow and says, "Anyway, don't you try to play modest. If anyone's getting a mountain of love letters, it's <i>you</i>, O Hero of Haven." <<include "troublelovetalk">>

He inhales the wrong way, then sputters. "Where did <i>that</i> come from?" "It's in the same general area as what we've been talking about!" He shakes his head. "God's tooth! No, <<c halfname>>, I don't have any <i>exes</i>. There have been—" He suddenly blushes hotly. "Are you sure you want to hear about this?" You turn to stare at him; he's rarely ever embarrassed by a topic, even the most intimate or gauche. "I wouldn't ask if I didn't want to know, would I?" Trouble covers his face; you notice suddenly that this is one of the rare times you've seen him without his gloves on. "Well," he says from under his hand, "I mean, there have been—you know—<i>dalliances</i>. If you can call it that. Usually one-night things, you know… mostly awkward teenaged fumbling around. And then we'd go our separate ways in the morning or whatever. But nothing ever beyond that." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Did you ever want it to go beyond that? Or did they?"' 'want7beyond'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Why don\'t you think it was ever anything more?"' 'dont7anything'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Why do I get the sense that you were a late bloomer?"' 'late7bloomer'>><</link>></li> </ul>

He stares at you as if you've gone insane. "It was never like that," he says simply. "For either party." <<include "curiously7looks">>

He shrugs. "I dunno. It was just… never like that. I dunno." <<include "curiously7looks">>

He glares at you, looking like a mussed, offended eagle. "So maybe I was," he grouses. "Lots of people were." But the thought of awkward, adolescent Trouble is making you grin, so he hits you with his pillow. <<include "curiously7looks">>

<<nobr>><<if $aro is false and $aroace is false>> Then he looks at you curiously. "What about you? <<if $redrelationship is "ex">> I know there was Red, but… was there ever anyone else?" <<else>> Was there ever anyone… like that?" <</if>> <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'There was, and you tell him about it in detail.' 'trouble7listens'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'There was, but you don\'t feel like talking about it.' 'trouble7listens'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'There wasn\'t, and you tell him so.' 'trouble7listens'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'You change the subject altogether.' 'trouble7listens'>><<settrouble -3>><</link>></li> </ul> <<else>> You laugh and talk quietly in the warmth and stillness of the room, ranging from all manner of topics. But, eventually, you feel your eyelids growing heavy, and the two you begin to ease together towards sleep. <br><br> <<include "troublesgoodnight">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Trouble listens attentively, and you talk for a long time in the warmth and the stillness of the room, ranging from all manner of topics. But, eventually, you feel your eyelids growing heavy, and the two of you begin to ease together towards sleep. <<include "troublesgoodnight">>

<<nobr>><<if $troubleromanceflag gte 30>> Trouble pauses for just the barest moment; then he says, his voice very casual, "Sure. I could do that." <<else>> Trouble's surprised for only a moment. "Huh? Oh—sure, why not?" He grins at you sidelong. "Never did get a sleepover when I was growing up. It's like when we're out on the road, right? It feels safer knowing someone's in the bedroll next to you." <</if>><</nobr>> So, with little aplomb, you scoot your heavy beds together so that they form one larger mattress.<<nobr>><<if $trouble gte 70>> Perfunctorily, Trouble holds up his blanket for you to slip under, and he seems to have no issue at all with you sidling up against his solidity and warmth while he lays on his back. <</if>> <<if $troubleromanceflag gte 30>> Then, carefully, he offers you the crook of his arm. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Tuck yourself against him, so that your head is resting on his shoulder.' 'tuck7yourself'>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 3>><<set $troublespoon to true>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Decline. Just being next to him in the same bed is enough.' 'he7murmurs'>><<set $troubleromanceflag -= 10>><</link>></li> </ul> <<else>> <br><br> <<include "he7murmurs">> <</if>><</nobr>>

His heat blazes against your side like a furnace, and you can hear the steady thunder of his heart like this. It's strangely soothing, and you begin to feel yourself relax. <<include "he7murmurs">>

"Is this all right?" he murmurs, his deep voice vibrating against your eardrum. <<nobr>><<if $troubleromanceflag gte 30 and $troublespoon is true>> He's all hard muscle and clean Trouble scent, and you can feel the hot strength of him like a firebrand, in the way his arm subtly tightens around you, and the way his hand minutely traces your arm, as if to say—<i>I've got you</i>. The bristle of his chest hair scratches against you through his thin night shirt. <</if>><</nobr>> <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'You smile and nod. "Thanks, Trouble."' 'he7pats'>><</link>></li> <<if $troubleromanceflag gte 30>><li><<link 'You nod wordlessly. This is having an effect on you more than you expected, but you can\'t let him know that.' 'he7pats'>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link '"Just don\'t roll over on me, or snore, or fart."' 'just7dont'>><</link>></li> </ul>

He laughs, a low, genuine belly-laugh. "I'll try my damnedest." You close your eyes contentedly. "Good." <<include "he7pats">>

He pats your head gently, then covers his mouth for another yawn. "Good night, <<c halfname>>." You don't say too much more. Comforted by each other's closeness, and the warmth and stillness of the room, you slowly drift off together into a dark and dreamless slumber. You don't wake again until morning. <<nobr>><<if $troubleromanceflag gte 35 and $troublespoon is true>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "awkwardwakeup">><</link>></center> <<else>><center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "breakfastinwallmirei">><</link>></center> <</if>><</nobr>>

Trouble yawns immediately and flops over. "Sounds good. G'night, <<c halfname>>." You close your eyes. "Good night." Soon enough, his deep breathing turns into quiet snores, and somehow, the familiar sound is enough to lull you towards sleep. You close your eyes and drop like a stone into a black and dreamless slumber. You don't wake again until morning. <<include "breakfastinwallmire">>

In the morning, you wake up in an awkward position. Somehow, during the night, you and Trouble wound up tangled in each other. Your back is to him, your legs are intertwined, and his arms are wrapped tightly around your waist. From the deep, even movements of his chest behind you, you can tell he's still contentedly asleep. Even as you stir, his arms tighten subconsciously around your midriff as he mumbles something to himself, his voice still slurred by slumber. His breath is warm against the back of your neck, sending goosebumps prickling through you. <i>Everything</i> smells like him—the bed, your pillow, your clothes. The mattress is soaked with the warmth of him, with the warmth of you both. Your heart begins to beat a little faster as you slowly realize what's going on. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Stay totally still. You have <i>no</i> idea what to do.' 'stay7totally'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Close your eyes and relax again. You\'re just going to enjoy this for a little bit, even if it was just an accident.' 'close7your'>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Nudge him in the stomach with your elbow to prod him awake. "Uh, Trouble..."' 'nudge7him'>><<set $troubleromanceflag -= 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Fly out of his arms in a panic.' 'fly7out'>><<set $troubleromanceflag -= 3>><</link>></li> </ul>

Trouble keeps talking to himself in his sleep; you don't know quite what he's saying, something about cows and "paying his butt"—? <<include "loud7knock">>

Trouble keeps talking to himself in his sleep, huddling closer and nuzzling against the back of your shoulder. He is blessedly warm, and you let your eyes drift shut again. Just for a little while longer… <<include "loud7knock">>

He stirs, but just ends up nuzzling the back of your neck instinctively. You hold back a squeak. <<include "loud7knock">>

Trouble wakes with a start, his eyes flying open as you jerk away from him; his arm goes scrambling for a gun that isn't there. "Who's that? Where—" Then he stares at you, wide-eyed, still not fully awake. "<<c firstname>>—?" <<include "loud7knock">>

There's a loud knock at the door. "<i>Rise and shine, it's time to dine</i>!" Chase. Before you can react, Trouble hurls himself backwards off of the bed and lands on the floor with a tremendous crash and an oath that threatens to turn your ears blue. There's a pause on the other side of the door. Red's voice says, "<i>I heard a thump. Did someone just fall off their bed?</i>" You look to Trouble, who's still lying on the floor, swearing profusely. "<i>Sounds like Trouble</i>," Chase says. "<i>Sorry, Trubs! Breakfast's on once you're done bandaging your wounds!</i>" Trouble looks at you, his hair a flyaway mess and sleep still gritty in his eyes. His voice is hoarse and rough as he says, very sincerely, "I fucking hate him." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "loud7knocki">><</link>></center>

You manage to get ready in a rush—no time to dwell on the circumstances in which you woke up, you've both overslept already—and hustle into the dining room to meet the others, who don't seem to notice anything amiss. <<include "breakfastinwallmire2">>

<<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 30>> Blade's face stiffens imperceptibly, but after a moment, he nods. His tone is perfectly neutral and businesslike as he says, "Fine." <<else>> Blade nods. "Fine." <</if>><</nobr>> "I can take the couch, then," Trouble says, covering his yawn with the back of his gloved hand. He stretches his arms over his head. "I can fall asleep anywhere. Guess that leaves Red and Chase in the other room." Red groans. "The last time Chase and I shared a room on a mission, he dragged me out to a bar and I woke up in some farmer's hayloft the next afternoon." "Well, no bars or haylofts around here," Chase says cheerfully. "So we'll see what other mischief we can scare up." Blade narrows his eyes, but the thief waves a hand. "I'm only joking, Spike. Even a hummingbird like me needs to rest sometime." They bid you good night, and you and Blade take your packs and move into the <i>heguman's</i> guest room. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "bladesroomi">><</link>></center>

Blade doesn't move, but you get the feeling that he's looking at you sidelong. "Not exactly," he says dryly. "Khehi-Ket—the good ones, anyway—are trained to be able to fall asleep in nearly any situation, even under the most stressful battle conditions. Too many soldiers rob themselves of rest, and their bodies give out at crucial moments. So, if I wanted to—I <i>could</i> sleep, almost instantly, and wake just as alert." "But you don't want to?" you ask. He shrugs lightly. "I am thinking," he says. "And in a little while I'll get up and patrol the perimeter to make sure all is truly secure. It seems pointless to sleep until then." You don't even bother to try and dissuade him from doing this: it's a force of habit with him, something he does every few hours during a mission, even when someone else is on watch. You've never known quite what to call it: restless paranoia or comforting vigilance. Instead, you say, "What are you thinking about?" Blade is silent for a long, long moment, and you almost think he won't reply. "What killed those officers," he says finally. His voice sounds dull and weary, and though you know he's trained to detach himself from emotions like guilt, you can't help but feel that the burden of command must rest particularly heavy on him tonight. <<include "bladesroomii">>

Even knowing that Blade is lying awake doesn't deter you; as soon as you allow your heavy lids to fall shut, warm and welcome darkness steals over you. You don't wake again until morning. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "breakfastinwallmirei">><</link>></center>

You're unspeakably tired, but you can't leave Blade to dwell on his thoughts. It doesn't help anyone, least of all him. <<include "bladeconversationnight">>

You see Blade grimace: a rare flash of emotion. "It was… a cultural difference," he grumbles eventually. He looks away. <<nobr>><<if $heritage is "Ket">> "You must know from your own upbringing that obedience and respect for authority are deeply ingrained in Ket culture. <</if>> <<if $bladetime gte 1>> "I think I told you once that obedience and respect for authority are very ingrained in Ket culture. <<else>> "Obedience and respect for authority are very ingrained in Ket culture. <</if>><</nobr>> Unquestioning compliance with orders, deference and adherence to the hierarchy—these are all core tenets of our society. It has to be that way—or things fall apart very quickly. Especially when you're dealing with superpowered soldiers brimming with arma and equipped with the skills to assassinate leaders or burn entire cities overnight." Blade pauses, then makes eye contact with you, letting that sink in. "I'm not joking," he says—a redundancy, considering how rarely he ever jokes. "The smallest defiance, the slightest hesitation, the shadow of a doubt in a superior's command—or an outright question or challenge to his authority? Among the Ket, that only ends in three ways: court-martial, bloodfeud, or death. <i>We don't brook disobedience</i>." He lets out a long, slow breath through his nose. "I try to keep in mind that very few are brought up with that kind of mindset: someone like Chase wouldn't know, doesn't intend it in the way that a Ket perceives it. But I'm used to having people follow my orders. When he doesn't, when he makes a joke of it, it's like… spitting in my face. It's an extreme insult, an offense of the highest degree, demanding harsh and immediate punishment. A true Ket commander would have had him jailed for insubordination… or worse. We take it very, very seriously—and it's hard to ignore that instinct. Any Ket warrior worth his salt upholds the hierarchy, maintains his own authority, and answers any challenge to it without mercy. It's a knee-jerk reaction, almost a bone-deep urge." He shakes his head again. "Still. I shouldn't have let my temper get the better of me." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Well, at least it all turned out fine, so I wouldn\'t worry about it."' 'well7at'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I don\'t exactly blame you. Chase <i>can</i> be a little annoying."' 'chase7annoying'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Lords, but the Ket really do take themselves seriously. And I thought it was just you."' 'lords7but'>><<if $blade gte 65 and $charisma gte 50>><<setblade +1>><</if>><</link>></li> <<if $bladeromanceflag gte 10 and $attractedto is not "women">><li><<link '"Truth be told, I found it sort of... attractive." <b>[FLIRT]</b>' 'truth7told'>><<setcourage +1>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 25>><<set $bladeromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li><</if>> </ul>

Blade grunts. "True. Chase, at least, is the type to forgive and forget a slight instantly. One of his better traits." He falls into pensive silence after that, and eventually, the warmth and quiet of the room draws irresistibly around you, and you begin to drift off to sleep. <<if $bladeromanceflag gte 30>> <<include "bladesgoodnight">> <<else>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "breakfastinwallmirei">><</link>></center> <</if>>

You could swear as you doze off that Blade says, "Sleep well, <<c firstname>>," in a quiet, gentle voice—but you can't be absolutely sure. It could have have been a part of your dreams. You don't wake again until morning. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "breakfastinwallmirei">><</link>></center>

Blade snorts, a half-amused sound. "Still, he is a skilled fighter," he acknowledges after a moment, almost courteously. "And he can be surprisingly sharp-witted. I'm glad he's on our side, and not the enemy's." It's about as high a compliment he typically pays anybody. You find yourself grinning. "Chase would never let you live it down, if he heard you say all that." Blade's voice goes very dry. "Which is why I'll never say it in his presence. And nor will you. Or I'll jail <i>you</i> for insubordination." You laugh and chat quietly for a few minutes more before the dark and quiet of the room draws irresistibly around you, and you begin to drift off to sleep. <<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 30>> <<include "bladesgoodnight">> <<else>> You drop like a stone into dark slumber, and you don't wake again until morning. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "breakfastinwallmirei">><</link>></center> <</if>><</nobr>>

Blade snorts in amusement. "I have been told I'm an exceptional case," he comments dryly. "Even as a child, I was a rigid rule-follower. But I think I've been deviating from that, of late." You think of his deception with the new Autarch, and you have to agree. "I wonder what other rules you would be willing to break?" you tease. <<include "bladerulebreak">>

<<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 30>> You mean it innocuously, but there's a brief, shocked silence from Blade's side of the room. Finally he manages, his tone even and sardonic, "What fresh misbehavior are you wanting to tempt me into?" <br><br> You grin to yourself, feeling mischievous despite the late hour. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Oh, Commander, I would never presume to think I could tempt you into anything you didn\'t want to do." <b>[FLIRT]</b>' 'oh7ccommander'>><<set $bladeromanceflag += 3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Well, there is that rule about fraternizing within the Shepherds..." <b>[FLIRT]</b>' 'rule7fraternizing'>><<set $bladeromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Maybe we could update your look. Make it more fun and eye-catching."' 'maybe7we'>><</link>></li> </ul> <<else>> He gives you a sardonic, unimpressed look. "That's a matter to contemplate some other time," he says. "Go to sleep, <<c firstname>>. Save your ruminations on how to ruin my character for tomorrow." <br><br> "All right, fine." You turn over with a yawn, and soon enough the warmth and stillness of the room draw irresistibly around you. You drop like a stone into sleep, and you don't wake again until morning. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "breakfastinwallmirei">><</link>></center> <</if>><</nobr>>

Blade shifts in his bed; clearing his throat, he says roughly, "I have no idea what you're talking about." "Of course." You flip over so he can't see your grin. "Well, good night. Sweet dreams." "<<c firstname>>…" "Yes?" "You're a hellion." "You love it." There's a long, defeated pause. Finally he just grumbles to himself about how you're an incorrigible terror, and you fall asleep chuckling as the warmth and quiet of the room draws irresistibly around you. You don't wake again until morning, and when you do, it's with a sleepy smile over your antics from the night before. Blade, rising silently from his bed, looks sharply away from your smile as if you'd kicked him in the chest. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "breakfastinwallmire2">><</link>></center>

There's another shocked silence. Finally he says, a bit stiffly, "I would be quite the hypocrite, for violating my own rule." "A hypocrite wouldn't be the worst thing you've been called," you answer, still teasing. There's a long, long silence at that. "No," Blade says finally, softly. "It wouldn't." But he lapses into pensive quiet at that, and when you turn to look at him in the dark, he looks quickly away from you, determinedly avoiding your gaze and staring straight up at the ceiling, holding his body on the bed as rigidly as a plank. Eventually the warmth and dark of the room draws irresistibly around you, and you drift off into sleep. <<include "bladesgoodnight">>

Even through the dark, you can sense Blade's arched brow. "Such as?" "Maybe we can shave your head bald and paint your scalp purple." He makes a shocked, offended noise. "What's wrong with my hair?" You're trying to stifle your laugh. "Well, nothing exactly. But you always look so intimidating. Switching your look around could make you more approachable." "Do you find me intimidating?" Blade asks. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"No, of course not."' 'no7of'>><<set $bladeromanceflag += 1>><<setblade +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"A little. Sometimes."' 'a7little'>><</link>></li> </ul>

"Then I'm not changing my hair," he says. The stubborn, defiant way he says it makes you finally break out laughing, and Blade turns away—but you think you can make out his small grin. <<include "you7chat">>

He scowls. "Well, I'm not painting my head purple." "What about a different color? Silver?" "No." <<include "you7chat">>

You chat in a light-hearted manner for several minutes more before the warmth and dark of the room draws irresistibly around you. <<include "bladesgoodnight">>

<<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 30>> There's a brief, startled silence before Blade snorts disbelievingly. "I find that hard to believe," he answers drolly. "Unless you're the type of woman who finds threats and posturing attractive?" <br><br> "It's less about that and more about the, you know, <i>dominance</i>," you explain, unabashed. "And the—I don't know, people like dark and dangerous men. And the muscles certainly don't hurt." <br><br> Another long, long silence. Finally Blade clears his throat and mutters, "I'll have to keep that in mind." He sounds as bewildered and awkward as you've ever heard him, which means his voice is only a little stilted. When you glance over at him, his gaze is fixed determinedly on the ceiling, so it seems he has no more thoughts to offer on that particular train of discussion. You yawn and roll back over, and soon enough the warmth and dark of the room draws irresistibly around you. You begin to drift off into sleep. <br><br> <<include "bladesgoodnight">> <<else>> Blade snorts disbelievingly. "With my luck, Chase did, too," he answers without missing a beat. His voice is very dry. "I get the feeling that threats and violence are just other forms of flirtation, for him." <br><br> "Aren't they for everybody?" you tease. <br><br> He shrugs lightly. "Not for me." <br><br> He seems to have no other thoughts to offer after that, so you yawn and roll back over. Soon enough, the warmth and dark of the room draws irresistibly around you, and you drop like a stone into sleep. You don't wake again until morning. <br><br> <<include "breakfastinwallmire">> <</if>><</nobr>>

"Between this and the Faceless Lords, we've seen a lot of gruesome stuff," you note. "Murders, violence, demonic attacks… Does it ever haunt you?" Blade is silent for a moment. "I've probably killed more people than I've seen murdered," he says eventually. The dispassionate way he says it catches you off-guard. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"<<c god>>, Blade."' 'blade7sshrugs'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"That\'s awful."' 'blade7sshrugs'>><<setblade -3>><<setcourage -3>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"That can\'t be true."' 'blade7sshrugs'>><</link>></li> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You remain silent. You wonder if that\'s true of you, too.</div>' 'blade7sshrugs'>><<setcompassionate -5>><</link>> </ul>

He shrugs lightly. "I never kept count, so I'm not saying it's absolutely true. But I am—I was—a Khehi-Ket, an assassin and soldier for my city-state, and Ygrath put my skills to use very early. I've had a long career." He stares up at the ceiling. "I rarely worry about the past: I can't afford to. You know what truly haunts me? The future. What it looks like, what will happen. What's within our control and without it. What work we can do to chip away at the Endarkened, make the world after us a little safer. And the concerns of present: the people under my command, the officers who rely on me. Their families when they don't come home." He lapses into dark, brooding silence at that, and you get the feeling that nothing you say can pull him away from that morass. Eventually the darkness and stillness of the room closes its jaws around you, and you fall into a troubled and uneasy sleep. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "breakfastinwallmirei">><</link>></center>

Blade snorts to himself. "Thank you," he says dryly. "I'm not exactly what anyone would call book-smart, but I'm known to display occasional cunning when it comes to outmaneuvering my enemies." Telling, that he considers the new Autarch an enemy. "It's very rebellious of you," you note. He inclines his head. "I have been that, of late." "I wonder what other rules you'd be willing to break?" you ask teasingly. <<include "bladerulebreak">>

Blade snorts, derisive. "Of course I do. I couldn't fail to notice a sixty-pound hound running around in the yards. They're building it a house in one of the side courtyards: the one they think I never frequent." You raise your brows. "You know about it? And you haven't stopped them?" "It's harmless, so long as it doesn't disrupt the work of others," Blade says. "And it hasn't, so far. And Caine has been paying for the dog's food from the cattery, usually through chores. The companionship would be valuable for him: I know he has his own friends, but there aren't many apprentices his age at the compound. So long as he's being mindful and responsible, I'll look the other way." He pauses. "I've also learned to pick my battles, at least when it comes to Trouble. Outright forbidding the animal would just make him resort to more underhanded tactics. He gets very mutinous—true to his name." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Blade Bronwyn, I never thought I\'d see the day. You\'re <i>soft</i>!"' 'blade7bronwyn'>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 30>><<set $bladeromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Never knew you\'d be so willing to bend the rules for others. You usually come off as so inflexible."' 'never7knew'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Is there anything that happens at the compound that escapes your notice?"' 'is7there'>><</link>></li> </ul>

He scowls, but you can tell his heart isn't in it. "No." "You <i>are</i>," you crow. "The tough and cold-hearted Commander of the Shepherds, caring about a little boy and his dog. You're completely soft-hearted!" <<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 30>> The look he sends you is full of hidden amusement. "Towards certain people," he relents finally, his voice quiet and just a touch affectionate. <br><br> You look back, smiling yourself, and for a moment, the two of you just lie there, staring at each other through the dark. Then Blade clears his throat and looks away, adopting a mock-stern tone. "But I forbid you from telling anybody. My reputation would be ruined." <br><br> You place a hand over your heart. "Your secret's safe with me. You can trust me." <br><br> He smiles at you sidelong, soft again. "I know." <br><br> You talk for a while more, laughing quietly and exchanging light-hearted banter before the warmth and darkness of the room closes irresistibly around you. You yawn and begin to drift into sleep. <br><br> <<include "bladesgoodnight">> <<else>> "Well, don't tell anyone," Blade says in a mock-stern tone. "I have a reputation to maintain." <br><br> You scoff. "True. The greenhorn recruits would be much less frightened of you if they knew your heart wasn't chiseled from flint and brimstone." <br><br> His look changes to one of secretive amusement. "Is that what they're saying about me?" <br><br> "That's what Chase has been saying, anyway." <br><br> You laugh and talk for a while more before the warmth and darkness of the room closes irresistibly around you. You yawn, roll over, and then drop like a stone into sleep. You don't wake again until morning. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "breakfastinwallmirei">><</link>></center> <</if>><</nobr>>

Even through the dark, you can see the quirk of his lips. <<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 30>> "I am actually quite flexible," he says lightly. "A good warrior stays limber." <br><br> The unexpected quip makes you burst out laughing. "Blade! Was that a <i>joke</i>?" <br><br> "A fairly awful one," he says, his tone mock-serious now. "Bending the rules and turning to comedy: how else is my character going to change during my tenure?" <br><br> "How indeed?" you wonder aloud, smiling. "I wonder what other rules you'd be willing to break?" <br><br> <<include "bladerulebreak">> <<else>> "Thank you very much," he deadpans. "Exactly what every leader wants to hear." <br><br> You burst out laughing. "Well, you can't exactly say it's not true." <br><br> He snorts. "I am simply good at hiding my exceptions," he says. "If people suspected there was any leeway in my strictures, they would try and take advantage. That's always far more trouble than it's worth." <br><br> <<include "bladeamused">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Through the dark, you can see how his lips quirk. "I doubt it," he says. "It's my business to know what's going on in the Order, even if I can't say I know each and every officer by name and face at this point." He pauses. "There's also the fact that, as Commander, the tower believes me to be its master, the same as Archmage Tangriel. If I don't notice something, the spirits guarding the place do. They usually find a way to let me know if anything's amiss." "Terrifying," you note. "I'll have to keep that in mind, the next time I catch some greenhorns snogging in a broom closet." Blade chuckles, the sound dry and sonorous. "The scope of my attention—or my interest—doesn't extend <i>that</i> far." <<include "bladeamused">>

Then he sends you a look full of hidden amusement. "Still, I appreciate you 'warning' me about Trouble and Caine. Now I see where your true loyalties lie: you'd sell them out merely to distract me from my thoughts." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Oh, please don\'t tell them."' 'oh7please'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You <i>are</i> my favorite, after all."' 'my7ffavorite'>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 20>><<set $bladeromanceflag += 1>><</if>><<if $blade gte 65>><<setblade +1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Did it work?"' 'did7it'>><<setblade +1>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 20>><<set $bladeromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I figured you already knew."' 'i7figured'>><</link>></li> </ul>

"Perhaps I won't," he says, his tone mock-serious. "We will see." "Planning on blackmailing one of your officers? Very reprehensible of you, Commander." "I have been known to be that," he answers dryly. <<include "talk7laugh">>

<<nobr>><<if $trouble gte 70 or $troubleromanceflag gte 10>> "Trouble will be broken-hearted," Blade says, mock-seriously. "As will Caine. But I appreciate your candor." <br><br> <<include "talk7laugh">> <<else>> He smiles slightly. "That sounds like mere flattery for your commanding officer." <br><br> You shrug. "It can be flattery <i>and</i> truth." <br><br> <<include "talk7laugh">> <</if>><</nobr>>

The look he sends you is one of gratitude, respect, and something like hidden affectionate. "It did," he acknowledges quietly. "Thank you." <<include "talk7laugh">>

Blade makes a skeptical, unconvinced sound. <<include "talk7laugh">>

You talk and laugh for a while more before the warmth and stillness of the room closes irresistibly around you. <<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 30>> <<include "bladesgoodnight">> <<else>> You feel your eyelids begin to grow heavy, and soon enough, you drop like a stone into sleep. You don't hear Blade stir, and you don't wake again until morning. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "breakfastinwallmirei">><</link>></center> <</if>><</nobr>>

"It is," Blade acknowledges. Then he looks at you sidelong, his glance quick and keen even in the dark. When he speaks again, his voice is pitched lower, softer; more considering. "Are you still troubled by nightmares?" he asks you. "You seemed fine on the journey here, but…" He trails off, leaving only questioning silence hanging between the two of you. You can't help but think of that night you had that strange nightmare in the compound, and that time on the road after. So much has happened since then… <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"The nightmares have lessened, thankfully. I think... I think being around everybody, feeling like I have a home, has made the bad dreams fade."' 'the7nightmares'>><<setblade +1>><<setloyal +3>><<set $traumatized -= 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'m not sure. If I have any nightmares, I don\'t remember them."' 'im7not'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"The nightmares have worsened. I\'m just so used to them at this point that I barely react."' 'nightmares7worsened'>><<set $traumatized += 1>><<setloyal -3>><</link>></li> </ul>

"I'm glad to hear that," Blade says softly—and he sounds like he genuinely is. <<include "bladedreams">>

<<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 30>> He pauses, then adds: "If they ever return… if there's ever anything I can do to help… tell me at once. I'll do whatever I can for you." <br><br> You smile at him softly. "Thank you, Blade." <br><br> He smiles back, and you watch each other for a while, your eyes glinting like tiny moons in the dark. Something breathless and taut steals between you, like a tension that you're afraid to disturb, to break. Neither of you seem to take a breath as you stare at each other. Finally Blade looks away, and your heart starts beating again. <br><br> "Sleep, <<c firstname>>," he says, his voice uncharacteristically quiet and gentle. "I'll stand guard." <br><br> There could be unspoken words layered into that message, you think: <i>I'll watch over you. I'll keep you safe. You won't be troubled by bad dreams when I'm near.</i> <br><br> And you're not. You feel the warmth and stillness of the room close irresistibly around you, and you close your eyes and begin to ebb away into slumber. You think you feel Blade's gaze on you, once or twice—and even that invisible, imagined weight is a comfort. Gradually, you drop into a peaceful and untroubled sleep. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "breakfastinwallmirei">><</link>></center> <<else>> He pauses, then continues hesitantly: "I am glad… that the Order makes you feel safer. As it should. I understand the feeling." He trails off awkwardly, but you understand what he means—and that quiet camaraderie settles over you like a warm blanket. <br><br> You talk and banter for a while more before the dark and stillness of the room closes gently and irresistibly around you. You feel your eyelids begin to grow heavy, and soon enough, you drop like a stone into a peaceful and untroubled sleep. You don't wake again until morning. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "breakfastinwallmirei">><</link>></center> <</if>><</nobr>>

Blade nods slowly. "I see." <<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 30>> <<include "bladedreams">> <<else>> He pauses, then continues hesitantly: "You've seemed more at ease in recent months—compared to when you first joined the Order. I hope that being among us can give you some measure of peace." <br><br> You smile at him. "Thank you, Blade." <br><br> He nods, and you talk for a while more before the dark and stillness of the room closes gently and irresistibly around you. You feel your eyelids begin to grow heavy, and soon enough, you drop like a stone into a peaceful and untroubled sleep. You don't wake again until morning. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "breakfastinwallmirei">><</link>></center> <</if>><</nobr>>

Blade is silent for a while, processing this. "I am sorry to hear that," he says finally—and he truly sounds like he does. <<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 30>> He pauses, then says: "If there's ever anything I can do to help… tell me. I'll do whatever I can for you." <br><br> You smile at him softly. "Thank you, Blade." <br><br> He smiles back, and you watch each other for a while, your eyes glinting like tiny moons in the dark. Something breathless and taut steals between you, like a tension that you're afraid to disturb, to break. Neither of you seem to take a breath as you stare at each other. Finally Blade looks away, and your heart starts beating again. <br><br> "Try and sleep, <<c firstname>>," he says, his voice uncharacteristically quiet and gentle. "I'll stand guard." <br><br> There could be unspoken words layered into that message, you think: <i>I'll watch over you. I'll keep you safe. You won't be troubled by bad dreams when I'm near.</i> <br><br> And, for once, you're not. You feel the warmth and stillness of the room close irresistibly around you, and you close your eyes and begin to ebb away into slumber. You think you feel Blade's gaze on you, once or twice—and even that invisible, imagined weight is a comfort. Gradually, you drop into a peaceful and untroubled sleep. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "breakfastinwallmirei">><</link>></center> <<else>> He pauses, then says hesitantly: "If it helps, there are… techniques, meditation practices, that some Ket use to banish bad dreams. I hear they're quite successful." Another pause. "I can teach them to you. Whenever you like." <br><br> You smile at him. "Thank you, Blade." <br><br> He nods, and you talk for a while more before the dark and stillness of the room closes gently and irresistibly around you. You feel your eyelids begin to grow heavy, and soon enough, you drop like a stone into a peaceful and untroubled sleep. You don't wake again until morning. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "breakfastinwallmirei">><</link>></center> <</if>><</nobr>>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "breakfastinwallmirei">><</link>></center>

The next day makes for a strange start, the watery gray light of morning seeping in through the window almost like a fog. <<include "breakfastinwallmire2">>

You break your fast together in the family's kitchen: Wren prepares a clear broth in a stone cauldron with some kind of kelp or swamp weed floating around in it, as well as a dish of preserved quail eggs—cured in a jar of ash, quicklime, and salt so that the eggs appear black and veined, smelling vaguely of sulfur—and the pale-gleaming haunches of something like alligator or frog. Your stomach rumbles. You're starving, and desperately craving anything but the hardtack and jerky you've been subsisting on for days, but this isn't the most appetizing of breakfasts, either. <ul class="choices"> <<if $courage gte 50>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Tuck in eagerly. You don\'t care how it looks, you just want <i>food</i>.</div>' 'saranae7and'>><<setcourage +1>><<set $wallmire += 1>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Tuck in eagerly. You don\'t care how it looks, you just want <i>food</i>.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link 'Poke and push at the food half-heartedly. You can manage to force down something, even if it makes you a little queasy.' 'saranae7and'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Don\'t touch any of it. You\'re no good to the mission if you come down with a case of food poisoning.' 'saranae7and'>><<setcourage -1>><<setcunning +1>><<set $wallmire -= 1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Saranae and Wren don't say much over the clink and clatter of breakfast and passing dishes, clearly unused to sharing their home with outsiders. Cyril and Surya are a bit more talkative, looking no worse for the wear after the previous day's misadventures. "What are you going to do now?" Surya asks, her tone expectant, like an employer expecting an underling's report. You all look to your commanding officer. For a moment, you don't think Blade will deign to reply, preoccupied as he is with sipping Wren's bitter green tea. After a moment, however, he states, mostly addressing your group: "We'll start by canvassing the area proper and interviewing residents for any useful information. After that, I think we should pay a visit to that traveler in the ruins, provided we don't come across anything more urgent." "Oh, the witch?" Cyril asks. Both you and Red stiffen at the word; it's a loaded term, usually used as a fighting insult against Mages, but Cyril doesn't seem to know its significance. Trouble sets his spoon down, having cleared his plate already. "Witch?" he repeats. "Are you saying this traveler has magic?" You watch Saranae and Wren glance at each other; Cyril clams up under your scrutiny, clearly startled by the intensity of your gaze. After a moment of staring, however, he squeaks, "I dunno. Téo said it. He was the one who dropped off food for her a few days ago. He said… he said she stunk of witchcraft, and that…" He trails off. "And what?" you press. Cyril's eyes dart to his parents, but you can't see their expressions from where you're sitting. After a moment, he mumbles, "…And that her kind wasn't welcome here." Your heads slowly turn to look at Saranae and Wren, who stand as stiff as statues. <<c god>>, you think. Barring all of the other horrors of this swamp—have you walked right into a nest of anti-Diminished swamp people? The inhabitants of Wallmire all look to be Norms, but surely they wouldn't be so foolish as to spurn your help on the basis of your race, would they? But then again, they are a closed community. They may not have seen a magic-user in their entire lives, or even in several generations. Or maybe <i>ever</i>. "You are aware that we're Mages, aren't you?" Red asks, his voice perfectly pleasant and polite. It would be quite obvious, what with the <i>iladrin</i> and the spells Cyril and Surya witnessed last night… but maybe they wouldn't understand those signs, even if they saw them? "Please, ignore any of that talk," Saranae says hastily. "The people here are… old-fashioned, narrow-minded, at times. There are some old superstitions." "About Mages specifically?" "About anyone who's not from Wallmire," she says firmly. "And, of course, they're looking for someone to blame. People are dying nearly every day. If there's someone nearby that they can make out to be a villain, someone they can cast blame on… of course they're going to call her a witch." Blade is watching the <i>heguman</i> very keenly. "You seem quite sure of her innocence," he says, leaning forward and lacing his fingers together. Saranae flushes. "I refuse to condemn anyone unless their guilt is proven," she states. "And that's your job, now." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "after7breakfast">><</link>></center>

After breakfast, you convene outside of the longhouse, standing on the swaying wooden walkway above the gray marsh and taking in your surroundings. In the daylight, Wallmire is a marginally more welcoming place: the dense tangle of trees overhead has been cleared away, allowing a patch of sky to gape over the town like an opened window. It's still overcast and gloomy, but it's better than the unending night that you've been locked in for the past few days. The heavens rumble, threatening more rain, but for now, the air remains clear (though still damp and muggy). A few people dressed in dowdy clothes scuttle to and fro, tossing wide-eyed looks your way before retreating into their houses. There are a few slender boats scattered out on the water like fallen leaves, and you watch as olive-skinned fishermen haul up nets full of pale crabs. At least the place isn't starving. "We should split up," Blade says, "cover more ground. Within the confines of the village, it should be safe; but none of us are to set foot outside of Wallmire without the others. Don't let anyone lead you astray, or point you somewhere else beyond the boundaries of the town." "You got it, boss," Chase says, hauling a heavy pack up on his shoulders. It clinks loudly, drawing your attention. "We'll talk to the locals, see if there are any details beyond what the <i>heguman</i> had to say." "What are you carrying?" Red asks him, quirking a brow. Chase winks. "Brandy. We all got our ways to loosen reluctant tongues." Blade makes a huffing sound, looking <i>almost</i> amused. "Meet back here in ninety minutes," he states. "After that, we'll try and find this supposed 'witch.'" <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "after7breakfasti">><</link>></center>

The others split off to make their rounds; Blade heads to the edge of the village to examine its sentry posts and defenses, while Chase beelines straight for the tall building that is presumably the town's church or place of worship. Red calls out a greeting to some of the people in the boats, who skim closer to speak with him, and Trouble approaches a cluster of skittish but intrigued teenagers loitering on a rail. You wander through Wallmire for a few minutes, keeping your eyes peeled for anything out of the ordinary. It's a strange place, this town: hard to believe that a few hundred souls could have found their way here, to the heart of this swamp, and decided to stay long enough to build up an entire settlement. There's a strangely resilient air to the village, an endurance in its thatched roofs and gap-toothed walkways, some of them bending and flexing with the movement of the water below like the ribs of a breathing giant. It's an atmosphere of <i>adaptability</i>. Even in the midst of a deadly siege, the people here are trying to carry on. There's something sort of admirable in that. Mostly, the townspeople try to avoid your gaze, or flat-out ignore that you're there. None of them seem overly shocked by your presence—someone, Wren maybe, must have already spread word of your arrival, or perhaps they heard the commotion in the night—but they do seem… uneasy. Almost scared. You suppose Saranae was right: the people here are easily overwhelmed by the intrusion of the outside. But you'd think a place so isolated would be glad to see new faces, at least every once in a while. There's only one young man who doesn't seem particularly afraid of you. He's about your age, stocky, with dark heavy brows and curly brown hair hanging in a limp forelock against his forehead. His eyes track you as you draw closer to where he's washing his hands in a barrel of rainwater; his arms up to the elbows are covered in gore, which you quickly deduce from the smell came from cleaning fish. When you come to a stop in front of him, he inclines his head and says curtly, "Well-met, stranger." It's a very old-fashioned greeting. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Um, hello."' 'after7breakfastii'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"What\'s your name?"' 'after7breakfastii'>><<set $wallmire -= 1>><<setcourage +1>><<setcharisma -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Well-met, sir."' 'after7breakfastii'>><<setcharisma +1>><<set $wallmire += 1>><</link>></li> </ul>

His eyes flick around, as if checking to see if anybody's watching you. As far as you can tell, no one is. "Name's Ryzard," he says. "One of the village skimmers. You're one of the Shepherds, I take it?" You introduce yourself, and he nods, looking down at the water in the barrel, which is slowly turning foamy and pink from his rinsing. "I suppose I should thank you for coming," he says after a moment, his eyes focused on his work. "No one really believed that outsiders would actually answer our call for help, or that strangers would risk life and limb on our behalf. Guess the world outside is different, now. Used to be a time when we thought everyone had forgotten about us, and we were all on our own." He falls silent then, apparently having nothing more to say. <<include "ryzard">>

<ul class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("is7it")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Is it true that none of you ever leave this place? No one ever moves away?"</div>' 'is7it'>><<set $ryzardquestion1 to true>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("how7many")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"How many visitors does Wallmire usually see?"</div>' 'how7many'>><<set $swampclue += 1>><<set $thirtyyearsago to true>><<if $intelligence gte 60 or $cunning gte 60>><<setintelligence +3>><<setcunning +3>><<set $swampclue += 1>><</if>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("place7established")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"When was this place established?"</div>' 'place7established'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("shepherds7existed")>><<if $ryzardquestion1 is true and $intelligence gte 55>><<link '<div class="question-item">"How did you know the Shepherds even existed, if none of you ever leave?"</div>' 'shepherds7existed'>><<set $swampclue += 1>><</link>><</if>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("what7can")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"What can you tell me about the killings? About the Terror?"</div>' 'what7can'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("know7anything")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Do you know anything about the traveler in the ruins?"</div>' 'know7anything'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("wren7and")>><<if $cunning gte 50>><<link '<div class="question-item">"What do you think about Wren and Saranae?"</div>' 'wren7and'>><<set $saranaeclue to true>><<set $swampclue += 1>><</link>><</if>><</if>> <li><<link 'You can\'t think of anything else to ask.' 'you7think'>><</link>></li> </ul>

He snorts. "Hasn't happened since my great-grandfather's time, I don't think; and that was just the once." "Why do you all stay?" you ask. It's hard to believe that children who are born here aren't curious about the world, what other places are like. Ryzard's eyes dart around again. "Don't really have much of a choice," he says. "World outside's not meant for us." He refuses to say much more than that. <<include "ryzard">>

Ryzard shakes his head. "You're the first ones in… thirty or so years?" "You don't get any merchants or traders or anything?" "Who the Hael would lug a 'van full of goods, or even a donkey, through this swamp?" he asks scornfully. "No, we trade among ourselves. All the things we need for the community are right here." You glance around at the mostly-empty walkways. "You'd think there would be a little more excitement, if we're the first new faces in thirty years." "Wallmire doesn't like new faces," Ryzard answers, blunt. "They're usually bad news." <<nobr>><<if $intelligence gte 60 or $cunning gte 60>> <br><br> "Like the ones from thirty years ago?" you ask keenly. <br><br> He shoots you a wide-eyed, fearful look. "Wouldn't know anything about that," he mumbles. "Before my time." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "ryzard">>

He shrugs. "I don't know the exact date. Something like two hundred years ago?" So around the time of the Castigation? <<include "ryzard">>

He flinches, and something drops into the barrel of rainwater. Ryzard plunges his arm in after it, lost in a storm of cursing for a moment, and when he's done, he turns away, as if to hide his face from you. "Not sure that's for me to say," he says shortly, tying up a cloth package with a bit of twine. You fold your arms. "You said it yourself: we risked life and limb to come to your aid. Don't repay us by keeping secrets. We're here to help you." After a moment, he sighs. "Fine," Ryzard says. "You're right. There is <i>one</i> person who leaves: the <i>yegrim</i>, our scout. Xe leaves Wallmire once a year to take stock of the outside world, then reports back after a few months. Keeps us abreast of the state of the world, current affairs. That way we can be prepared if… anything happens. Xe heard the news in Haven and told us about your order last year." "Where is this <i>yegrim</i>?" you ask him. And why didn't Wren or Saranae mention xem last night? Ryzard looks away, his mouth suddenly ugly with pain. "Xe was one of the first ones to be killed," he says softly. "The Terror left xer body in the town square. Hung up like a scarecrow, bones punched through and…" He turns away with a shudder. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I\'m sorry."' 'im7sorry'>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Move on to other topics.' 'ryzardnosympathy'>><<setcharisma -1>><<setcompassionate -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Ryzard regards you, half-warily. <<include "ryzard">>

Ryzard nods, recovering himself after a moment. "So that's how we knew to summon you for help. Xe told us about you last year, so you were the ones we thought of when it came down to it." <<include "ryzard">>

He hesitates for a moment. "Seems like demon-work to me," he says. "I haven't seen it for myself, but… other people have stories. About voices they know, tormenting them, whispering vile things. Glimpses of faces… faces of the dead, sometimes, through the windows or in the shadows of the marsh. A demon. Maybe a Cacophant." It fits your working theory, but it doesn't explain why people can't leave. Surely if this was a demon haunting the town—even a very powerful one—<i>someone</i> could have slipped past its grasp? <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Why do you think it chose Wallmire?"' 'chose7wallmire'>><<set $swampclue += 1>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"How do you think it prevents people from leaving?"' 'how7do'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Do you get a lot of demons, out here?"' 'lot7demons'>><<setintelligence +1>><<set $swampclue += 1>><</link>></li> </ul>

The man's face turns pale; his eyes skate away from yours as if repelled by a magnet. "I… I wouldn't know," he stammers. "Why would you ask me something like that? Does there has to be a <i>reason</i> why a monster started slaughtering our people?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Even demons operate according to a certain logic."' 'even7demons'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"No, I suppose not." Demons are agents of chaos.' 'no7isuppose'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Stare at him in silence. Something\'s up.' 'stare7at'>><<setcompassionate -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Ryzard continues to avoid your gaze. "I wouldn't know," he mumbles. <<include "ryzard">>

Ryzard lets out an angry exhalation. "Right," he says. "And we're isolated and far from help: doesn't it make sense that a demon would choose us to feast on? Look at how successful it's been so far!" <<include "ryzard">>

<<nobr>><<if $compassionate lt 45>> He flinches away from your gaze. <<else>> He stares back, defiant. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "ryzard">>

Ryzard shakes his head. "It picks them off," he mutters. "If you're asking me how it knows where people are, how it patrols such a wide area… I suppose that's something you'll have to tell us." <<include "ryzard">>

Endarkened are usually drawn to dense population centers: the more people there are, the more victims they have to feed on. It's why Haven was such a hotspot of demonic activity, before the Shepherds were formed. Then again, maybe their strategy is changing: maybe they're picking the out-of-the-way places, like the Reach and the Bleakmoor, because they know their activities are less likely to be detected. Ryzard shakes his head. "We get a lot of Tainted," he says. "They come over the mountains from the Waste and the Realm-of-Ghosts and get filtered through the Bleakmoor; we're sort of like a trawling net for the rest of the East, in that way, catching the detritus before it reaches everywhere else. But true demons, powerful ones?" He shrugs. "This would be the first, in my lifetime." <<include "ryzard">>

"Not much," he answers, shaking his head. "Only what I've heard from Wren and the other deputies, like old Téo. I guess she—the traveler—showed up about a week ago. Hasn't been here long. Don't know much beyond that. Téo said she's blind, and she's, ah… like you." He jerks his chin towards your eyes, not unfriendly, just straightforward. "What are these ruins that she's inhabiting?" you ask. He blinks. "Oh—some sort of old temple. It's been here since before Wallmire and long since crumbled to nothing. Something to do with the old gods, that's all I know." He makes a sign with his thumb and forefinger and kisses it: <<nobr>><<if $belief is "oldfaith">> an old pagan gesture. Do the villagers of Wallmire worship the Old Faith? <<else>> some sort of pagan gesture. <</if>><</nobr>> "Not much of value in there, as far as I know." "Do you think this person 'like me' has anything to do with what's going on in the village?" He shrugs. "The timing doesn't exactly match up, and it's hard to believe a blind Mage could be powerful enough to do… all of this…" He looks around Wallmire, seeming dispirited. "…But stranger things have happened, I guess. The elders sure have got something in their craw about her, that's for sure. But truly, I don't know anything else beyond that." <<include "ryzard">>

He sighs. "They're doing the best they can. It's hard. Wallmire has been here a long time, and we have all these ancient laws and traditions. They're meant to keep us safe, but… I don't know. They're doing the best they can. Saranae's young to be <i>heguman</i>—she got the position from her grandmama, who passed not three years ago—and she has to mind the elders, and our ways. It's… complicated." <<include "ryzard">>

Ryzard nods and turns away. "Good luck." <<include "you7scout">>

You scout around a bit more, but no one else seems as forthcoming as the strong-shouldered skimmer, which you deduce is another Wallmire word for fisherman. Eventually, it's time for you to reconvene with the others. "I got nothing," Trouble declares, shoving his hands deep in his pockets. "Nothing new, anyway. Everything that was said was just a repeat of what we already know. These folks don't know much." "I got a similar impression," Red remarks, "though I also got the feeling that there are some things they aren't saying. They don't trust an outsider enough to get really deep in the weeds about it, but there is this sense that they've been instructed slightly on what to say." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I don\'t know; the person I talked to seemed sincere."' 'you7scouti'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I agree. There\'s something being held back, I think."' 'you7scouti'>><</link>></li> </ul>

You all glance towards Chase, who's now sporting a sagging, empty pack over his shoulder. "Well, some fun facts," he says lightly, "the Wallmire word for priest is <i>auspex.</i> Theirs is tiny and ancient; he can barely see more than three feet in front of him. But he <i>can</i> drink like a fish. Ninety minutes is long enough to get him deep in the cups." "You got their priest to drink with you?" Red asks incredulously. "There are <i>very</i> few people who'd turn down a free drink with me, especially once I start laying down that Trinaeste charm," Chase answers with a wink. "Did you find anything out?" Blade asks, impatient. Chase's good humor fades. "Nothing concrete," he says. "Seems like the Terror's some kind of demon, yada yada. But there were… allusions. Something about ancient laws, the older generation clashing with the younger ones like Saranae?" <<nobr>><<if $saranaeclue is true>> <br><br> "I heard that, too," you comment. You outline what you heard from Ryzard, and the others turn serious. <</if>><</nobr>> "You don't think there's some ritual sacrifice shit going on around here, do you?" Trouble asks, his voice uneasy. "It, uh… seems like the sort of thing an 'ancient law' around here would push." "We can't make assumptions," Blade says, as serious and businesslike as ever. "But we should operate under the idea that they may not be telling us everything. And if they'd keep secrets from <i>us</i>, the people they begged to come and help them while in the midst of a deadly crisis…" He trails off significantly. "We need to be careful." You all nod. "There's one last thing," Chase says, tapping the hilt of his dagger thoughtfully. "The <i>auspex</i> mentioned something before he drifted off. It seems like something terrible happened here, around thirty years ago." "What?" Blade demands. Chase shrugs. "I don't know. He just mumbled something about 'that terrible business thirty years ago.' But he wouldn't say anything more about it, no matter how hard I pushed. That in itself says something." <<nobr>><<if $thirtyyearsago is true>> <br><br> The phrase sparks something in your mind. "That skimmer Ryzard mentioned that the last time travelers came through Wallmire was around thirty years ago," you state. "It doesn't seem like they've encountered anyone else since." <br><br> Blade makes a low, pensive sound. "Thirty years without an outsider, and now our team and this woman in the ruins arrive within a week of each other," he comments. "What are the chances?" <br><br> "Low," Trouble says, his eyes steely. <</if>><</nobr>> "I don't know if it's connected," Red says, "but it feels like there's <i>something</i>." He glances around at your group. "Shall we see what this other Mage has to say?" You nod. "Let's move out." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "precitably7it">><</link>></center>

<<romancecalc>>Predictably, it begins to sprinkle just as you leave Wallmire… and then it turns into a steady downpour. Again. <<nobr>><<if $specialization is "elementalist">> <br><br> Because you've now established a base of operations, Blade allows you to form a kind of invisible umbrella over your heads, a waterproof barrier of magic that diverts the rain from hitting you. It's not as taxing as rearranging the weather or sending away the clouds, and it keeps you dry. A good compromise. <</if>><</nobr>> Wren indicated that the ruins are about a few hours' walk from Wallmire: there's ample time for you to travel there and back before nightfall, barring any disastrous delays. But in the returning rain, the time drags on, and you find yourself counting the minutes until you'll reach a break in the gray, dreary landscape. <<nobr>><<if ($highestromance is "blade" or $highestromance is "trouble") or ($highestromance is "red" or $highestromance is "chase")>> <<include "crosstheravine">> <<else>> <<include "thebreak">> <</if>><</nobr>>

That break finally comes in the form of a shallow, rocky ravine—one of the first that you've encountered in the soft muck of the marshland. Rainwater flows through it in a rapid, knee-high stream, and after scouting around, it becomes clear that there are no stones or logs that you can use to climb over it. From the looks of the current, it's not fast-moving enough to be dangerous, just inconvenient and muddy. <<nobr>><<if ($highestromance is "trouble" and $troubleromanceflag gte 30)>> Blade forges through first; then Chase. As you stand waiting, Trouble suddenly crouches in front of you expectantly. "Hop on," he says, his tone casual and good-humored. "No point in both of us getting us dirty, is there?" <<include "piggyback">> <<elseif $highestromance is "blade" and $bladeromanceflag gte 35>> Trouble forges through first; then Red. Blade catches your eye, hesitates, and then begins in a tense, clipped way, "Do you want me to…" <br><br> You look at him quizzically. "What?" <br><br> Blade's brows knit together; he glances at the water again. "It's deep," he says, very stiffly. "I can carry you." <br><br> You feel a touch of heat at your collarbone. <<include "bridalcarry">> <<elseif ($highestromance is "chase" and $chaseromanceflag gte 25) and $chasesex is true>> Blade forges through first; then Trouble. Chase, beside you, catches your eye and smiles, the look surprisingly gentle in comparison to his usual wild grin. "Allow me, $nickname," he says. He splashes down into the water before turning back and holding his hand out to you, the picture of an old-fashioned prince handing his lover over a puddle. <<include "handover">> <<elseif $highestromance is "red" and $redromanceflag gte 30>> Blade forges through first; then Trouble. Red, beside you, catches your elbow gently as you start to step into the water. "Careful," he says with a quick smile. "Wouldn't want you to fall." <<include "redcaress">> <<elseif $trouble gte 90>> Blade forges through first; then Chase. As you stand waiting, Trouble suddenly crouches in front of you expectantly. "Hop on," he says, his tone casual and good-humored. "No point in both of us getting us dirty, is there?" <<include "piggyback">> <<else>> There's an awkward moment where you all look around at each other, as if waiting for someone else to do something, before you decide to forge through the river on your own, grimacing as the ice-cold water immediately drags against your knees and waist. Meekly, the others follow after you. <br><br> <<include "shortly7after">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Back away. "You are not giving me a piggyback ride."' 'back7away'>><<set $troubleromanceflag -= 5>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Hop on his back. "Thanks!"' 'hop7on'>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 1>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 20>><<set $bladeromanceflag -= 10>><</if>><<if $redromanceflag gte 20>><<set $redromanceflag -= 5>><</if>><<if $chaseromanceflag gte 20>><<set $chaseromanceflag -= 5>><</if>><</link>></li> <<if not hasVisited("shouldnt7ibe")>><<if $strength gte 60>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"Shouldn\'t I be the one giving you the ride, not the other way around?"</div>' 'shouldnt7ibe'>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">"Shouldn\'t I be the one giving you the ride, not the other way around?"</div>'>><</link>><</if>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("ohid7say")>><<if $charisma gte 50>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"Oh, I\'d say there\'s a definitely a point to us getting dirty." <b>[FLIRT]</b></div>' 'ohid7say'>><<if $troubleromanceflag gte 30>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">"Oh, I\'d say there\'s a definitely a point to us getting dirty." <b>[FLIRT]</b></div>'>><</link>><</if>><</if>> </ul>

He tosses you a quizzical look, but straightens, unoffended. "All right, suit yourself." <<include "chase7clucks">>

It's a bit awkward at first—you don't recall getting a piggyback ride since you were a child—but Trouble hefts you up easily enough, his back broad and strong beneath you, his gloved hands familiar and friendly on your thighs. This close, he smells of something comforting, like smoke and sunlight, and his body is as hot and blazing as a brand, even through the layers of his jacket. <<nobr>><<if $troubleromanceflag gte 30>> You can feel his muscles rippling beneath your hands as he maneuvers into a full standing position. <</if>><</nobr>> You clasp your arms around his neck and feel his short golden hair tickle your cheek as he forges gamely through the stream like a draft horse. <<nobr>><<if $troubleromanceflag gte 30>> "See?" he murmurs to you, strangely gentle. "Easy." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "chase7clucks">>

"I asked first," Trouble grunts. "Limited-time offer, <<c halfname>>." <<include "piggyback">>

<<nobr>><<if $troubleromanceflag gte 30>> He snorts, but he doesn't turn around—and a dark flush creeps up the back of his neck. "Stupid," he grumbles. refusing to look at you. "Are you getting on, or not?" <<include "piggyback">> <<else>> He snorts and rolls his eyes. "So stupid," he mutters. "Are you getting on, or not?" <<include "piggyback">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Chase clucks his tongue at Red. "Why don't you ever offer to carry me across rivers and whatnot?" The tall Mage snorts. "Fat chance." "Spike?" Blade makes a grunt that perfectly conveys a mix of utter scorn, disgust, and dismissal. Soon enough, you reach the other side of the water, and Trouble gently lowers you back down to the ground. <<nobr>><<if $troubleromanceflag gte 30>> For just the briefest instant, before you slide to your feet, you think his touch lingers on your legs—but then he snatches his hands away, and he doesn't look at you again for the rest of the walk, shoving his hands deep in his pockets and studying the ground with sudden intense scrutiny. When you thank him again, he only mumbles, "Any time," and kicks at a pebble—and then he briskly walks away. <br><br> <<include "shortly7after">> <<else>> He pats you on the back. "There. Safe and sound." <br><br> You smile at him. "Thanks, Trouble." <br><br> He winks. "I've got you, <<c firstname>>." <br><br> <<include "shortly7after">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"It\'s not <i>that</i> deep. I can get through it myself."' 'not7deep'>><<setcourage +1>><</link>></li> <<if not hasVisited("smirk7him")>><<if $charisma gte 65>><<link '<div class="talk-item">Smirk at him. "Is that according to protocol, Commander?"</div>' 'smirk7him'>><<set $bladeromanceflag += 1>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Smirk at him. "Is that according to protocol, Commander?"</div>'>><</link>><</if>><</if>> <li><<link 'Blink at him, dumbfounded. "Huh? Oh, um..."' 'blink7at'>><<set $bladeromanceflag -= 3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Okay, thanks!"' 'okay7thanks'>><<set $bladeromanceflag += 1>><<if $troubleromanceflag gte 20>><<set $troubleromanceflag -= 5>><</if>><<if $redromanceflag gte 20>><<set $redromanceflag -= 5>><</if>><<if $chaseromanceflag gte 20>><<set $chaseromanceflag -= 5>><</if>><</link>></li> </ul>

Blade nods curtly. "I know." He turns and quickly crosses the ravine, and you can see Chase and Trouble idling on the far side, lost in conversation between themselves. You make your own way across the water easily, and when you look up from picking your way across the ravine, you catch Blade's concerned gaze on you as he looks back; he makes sure you're safely across before turning away and marching forward, his back stiff and ramrod-straight. <<include "shortly7after">>

He scowls, tossing you an impatient look. "Is that a no?" <<include "bridalcarry">>

He quickly looks away. "…Never mind." He quickly crosses the ravine, and you can see Chase and Trouble on the far side, holding in a snicker and trying to look casual. Red, behind you, looks like he's dying of second-hand awkwardness. You make your own way across the water easily, and when you look up from picking your way across the ravine, you catch Blade's concerned gaze on you; he makes sure you're safely across before turning away and marching forward, his back stiff and ramrod-straight. <<include "shortly7after">>

Blade inclines his head, then steps forward smartly, scooping you up perfunctorily into his arms in a bridal-carry. Surprised, you clutch at his collar, and this close, you breathe in his scent: sandalwood and something like steel. His hands are strong and surprisingly warm, not the chill that you might have expected from his touch. You can feel his heartbeat thumping staunchly against his chest, under the pulse-point at your wrist: two drumbeats echoing in tandem together. Blade doesn't meet your eye the entire time he's carrying you over the water—but the feeling of his large fingers splayed against your rib cage is strangely intimate. Soon enough, he lowers you to the ground on the other side of the ravine, surprisingly gentle. He catches your eye while you slide to your feet, and you see just the slightest flicker of something—a secret look, the faintest hint of a fond smile. Then he nods, turns away, and walks off, as if nothing had happened. Trouble, beside you, tsks. "You are definitely his favorite," he informs you. "It's so obvious, it's sick." "Didn't know he was allowed to play favorites," Chase muses. "Surely that's against a rule." "Who're you gonna report him to? The Autarch?" They snicker together before Blade, already in the distance, barks back an order. In moments, you're back on the move, the moment evaporating like so much mist in the rain. <<include "shortly7after">>

<ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Take his hand.' 'take7his'>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 3>><<setchase +3>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 20>><<set $bladeromanceflag -= 10>><</if>><<if $troubleromanceflag gte 20>><<set $troubleromanceflag -= 5>><</if>><<if $redromanceflag gte 20>><<set $redromanceflag -= 5>><</if>><</link>></li> <<if not hasVisited("tease7chim")>><<if $charisma gte 50>><<link '<div class="talk-item">Tease him. "I had no idea you were such a gentleman."</div>' 'tease7chim'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Tease him. "I had no idea you were such a gentleman."</div>'>><</link>><</if>><</if>> <li><<link 'Make your way into the water yourself. "I\'m okay, thanks."' 'make7your'>><<setchase -3>><<set $chaseromanceflag -= 5>><<setcourage +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

You put your hand in his, and Chase guides you across the water the entire rest of the way, holding your fingers as delicately as if your hand was a bird that might fly away if he gripped it too tightly. He murmurs encouragements to you as he picks his way across, testing numerous footholds to ensure they're steady enough to take your weight before moving on. "That's it, sweetheart, I've got you," he says once—and then he falls abruptly silent. His fingers tighten over yours, and when you chance a look at him, that cool, smiling look is back in his eyes—but he doesn't let go of your hand until you're safely across, not even once. On the other side, he squeezes your hand briefly before letting it drop… but his eyes linger on yours, startlingly intense. "Told you we'd make it," he says softly. There's a coiled-up tension in his shoulders, the kind of look on his face that he usually gets before he crushes you in a passionate kiss… but then he looks away, and the moment is broken. Still, the warmth of his hand lingers in your own for a long, long time. <<include "shortly7after">>

"Only for you, darling," he answers lightly, his tone slightly mocking as usual. But something different flashes through his eyes—just for a moment—and even when it's gone, something about the corners of his smile seem a bit forced. <<include "handover">>

He retracts his hand. "Yeah. Of course." He turns and splashes his way across the ravine, and by the time he makes it to the far shore, he's already cracking a joke to Blade and Trouble, as light-hearted and nonchalant as always. However, you notice he doesn't meet your gaze for the rest of the walk. <<include "shortly7after">>

<ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Shake him off. "I know how to walk."' 'shake7him'>><<set $redromanceflag -= 5>><<setred -3>><</link>></li> <<if not hasVisited("tease7waiting")>><<if $charisma gte 50>><<link '<div class="talk-item">Tease him. "Just waiting for an excuse to touch me, huh?"</div>' 'tease7waiting'>><<setred +3>><<set $redromanceflag += 1>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Tease him. "Just waiting for an excuse to touch me, huh?"</div>'>><</link>><</if>><</if>> <li><<link 'Allow him to guide you across the water. "Thanks."' 'allow7him'>><<setred +3>><<set $redromanceflag += 1>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 20>><<set $bladeromanceflag -= 15>><</if>><<if $troubleromanceflag gte 20>><<set $troubleromanceflag -= 5>><</if>><<if $chaseromanceflag gte 20>><<set $chaseromanceflag -= 5>><</if>><</link>></li> </ul>

He releases your arm instantly, as if burned. "Of course." The two of you forge your way across the ravine without further incident, and Red catches up to Chase and falls into easy conversation with him, not seeming to spare you another thought. <<include "shortly7after">>

He grins, his teeth brilliant against the tan of his skin. "Am I that obvious?" <<include "redcaress">>

He smiles at you. "I've got you, <<c halfname2>>." He guides you across the water, his grip strong and sure and warm even through the sleeve of your jacket, steadying you against the slippery shale and bracing you up against the quick-moving current of the water. You splash messily to the other side, and he releases you only when you make it safely to the opposite shore. When you turn to thank him, though, he says, "Ah, you've got…" And he suddenly reaches towards your face. You stand still, and his broad fingers are warm and gentle as they brush against your cheek, the calloused fingertips like a rasping kiss against your skin. You have to suppress a quick intake of breath at the sudden intimacy; for just the briefest moment, Red's touch lingers, his thumb grazing across your cheekbone and then slipping down, almost absently, ghosting close enough to your bottom lip that you feel the air against it burn. Your mouth tingles. Red's eyes are locked on yours, as if he's forgotten that everything else exists except for you. After a moment of standing there, cupping your cheek, he suddenly blinks and seems to remember himself, and his hand suddenly drops away. He clears his throat. "You, ah…" His voice is deeper, rougher, less clear than it usually is. "…You had some mud on your cheek." "Oh." Self-conscious, you brush at your face, but he seems to have gotten it all. Red's mouth quirks, and then he turns away… and trips on something, stumbling slightly and then catching himself with an uncharacteristic curse. He shoots you a quick, sheepish smile before hurrying away, shoulders hunched in embarrassment. After a moment, you catch up, and the conversation among the group resumes as usual. However, you notice that Red seems slightly out of it for the rest of the morning. <<include "shortly7after">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "shortly7afteri">><</link>></center>

Shortly after that, you reach another ravine, this one much wider than the last… and the water running through it is rushing at a much more dangerous speed. <<include "takeabreak">>

That break finally comes in the form of a deep, rocky ravine—one of the first that you've encountered in the soft muck of the marshland. It's a wide, gaping maw in the landscape, several horse-lengths across, and it's filled with a quick-rushing current of wine-colored, churning water. A flash flood. <<include "takeabreak">>

Trouble sighs. "God's breath, I'm getting so sick of all the <i>wet</i>. When we get out of here, I think I'm going to have traumatic flashbacks every time I take a bath." Blade is studying the thunderous river with clinical assessment. "We could cross there," he says, pointing at a fallen tree propped precariously over the ravine, "but the water is too high at the moment; it could knock us off, or dislodge the tree. But the current seems to be slowing down gradually; in twenty minutes, half an hour, it should lower enough for us to safely cross." "Sounds like we should take a break and wait it out, then," Red says. <<nobr>><<if $specialization is "elementalist">> "Get out of the rain and give <<c firstname>> a break from keeping us all dry." <<else>> "Get out of the rain and re-energize before the final push." <</if>><</nobr>> Chase jerks his head towards a nearby outcropping of large, slick gray rocks, a miserable lumpen huddle in the haze and the gloom. "Should have some dry spaces under there," he says. "Though it's a tight fit; we'll have to split up." Blade nods, and your team heads over to the outcropping, slipping in the mud and scrambling to get under the shelter of the overhanging rocks, which form several dry, deep indents just big enough for you to tuck yourself into while sitting up—sort of like mini-caves. Instantly, the light outside darkens as you retreat behind the heavy curtain of the rain, the veil almost solid-looking against the entrance of your shelter and utterly deafening against the hard surface of the rocks. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Noiselessly, Blade tucks himself in after you.' 'the7others'>><<set $cavepartner to "blade">><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Perfunctorily, Trouble throws himself in after you.' 'the7others'>><<set $cavepartner to "trouble">><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Seamlessly, Chase slides in after you.' 'the7others'>><<set $cavepartner to "chase">><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Comfortably, Red crawls in after you.' 'the7others'>><<set $cavepartner to "red">><</link>></li> </ul>

The others tuck themselves into the surrounding overhangs and indents, just a handful of yards away. However, through the din of the rain, their silhouettes quickly vanish, and their voices are lost in all of the noise—leaving you alone with your companion. Water drips down miserably into your face, and you try to hold back a sneeze as you begin to shiver from the cold. The next few minutes are spent in silence as you tear open packs and sate your growling stomachs with handfuls of nuts or mouthfuls of icy water from your canteens. Lightning hisses and flickers outside. <<nobr>><<if ($cavepartner is "trouble" and $troubleromanceflag gte 30) and $highestromance is "trouble">> Then, all of a sudden, Trouble is shrugging off his jacket and throwing it around your shoulders, rubbing the tops of your arms vigorously. "Shit, you're cold," he mutters, as if just now noticing and kicking himself for it. "Here, warm up, or you'll catch your death out here." <br><br> He catches your fingers in his own and forms your hands into a cup, kneeling and blowing into your palms with his warm breath. His lips brush against your fingers in an unintentional kiss; you feel the scratch of his stubble tickling your skin. <br><br> Then he looks up, focused concern in his eyes. "That any better?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'You suck in a breath. <i>Oh, no</i>. You have feelings for this man, and he has no idea. "Trouble..."' 'you7suckbreath'>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 10>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Smile at him. "You\'re a good man, Trouble Alder."' 'smile7him'>><<settrouble +3>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Pull away. "Stop worrying. I\'m fine."' 'pull7away'>><<set $troubleromanceflag to 5>><<settrouble -5>><</link>></li> </ul> <<elseif ($cavepartner is "blade" and $highestromance is "blade") and $bladeromanceflag gte 35>> Then, after a moment, Blade says quietly, "Are you cold?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Cup your hands together and blow into them. "A little."' 'cup7your'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Shake your head. "I\'m fine."' 'shake7oyour'>><<set $bladeromanceflag -= 3>><</link>></li> </ul> <<elseif ($cavepartner is "chase" and $chasesex is true) and ($highestromance is "chase" and $chaseromanceflag gte 25)>> Then, after a moment, Chase says softly, "You cold?" <<include "chasecuddle">> <<elseif ($redromanceflag gte 30 and $highestromance is "red") and $cavepartner is "red">> Then, after a moment, Red says quietly, "Are you cold?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'You nod, shivering even more violently now.' 'shiver7red'>><<set $redromanceflag += 3>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'You shake your head. "I\'ll be fine."' 'shake7headatred'>><<set $redromanceflag -= 5>><</link>></li> </ul> <<else>> <<include "almostdozing">> <</if>><</nobr>>

He looks up at you, stilling at the look on your face; his eyes change to something puzzled, but also intense. "Yeah?" he asks softly. But before you can speak, the moment is shattered, the bright, moving thing in your chest crumpling abruptly as Chase's voice suddenly interrupts from outside your shelter. "Looks like the river's gone down, all," he says softly. "Boss says we've got to get a move on." <<include "cavereact">>

He smiles a little, dryly. "I don't know about all that," he mutters, curling your fingers in to trap their new warmth. "Just want to look after you, is all." His gold-ringed eyes dart up to yours, and he begins, "You know I…" And all at once, it's over; Chase's voice suddenly chimes in from outside of your shelter, making Trouble flinch and drop your hands. "Looks like the river's gone down, all," the thief says softly. "Boss says we've got to get a move on." <<include "cavereact">>

He recoils from you, blinking. "Oh. Sorry." You stare at each other in awkward silence for just a moment—until you suddenly hear Chase's voice speaking to you from outside. "Looks like the river's gone down, all," he says softly. "Boss says we've got to get a move on." <<include "cavereact">>

Blade silently raises one arm in invitation, his back propped up against the stony cave wall, and you realize that he's offering to share his body warmth with you. <<include "theoffer">>

<ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Surprised, you accept the offer and sidle up, pressing yourself against his warm side.' 'surprised7you'>><<setblade +3>><<set $bladeromanceflag += 5>><</link>></li> <<if not hasVisited("you7balk")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">You balk, shy. It <i>would</i> be nice, but...</div>' 'you7balk'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("you7eyebrows")>><<if $charisma gte 70 and $courage gte 70>><<link '<div class="talk-item">You raise your eyebrows at him. "Is the Commander of the Shepherds... offering to <i>cuddle</i> with me?"</div>' 'you7eyebrows'>><</link>><</if>><</if>> <li><<link 'Shake your head. "I\'m good. Thanks."' 'im7good'>><<set $bladeromanceflag -= 20>><</link>></li> </ul>

He is deliciously warm, all solid muscle and dense, lean strength, and you can't help but press your cheek against his shoulder, shivering lightly. After a moment, Blade silently wraps his arm around you, drawing you even closer against him. His arm is held at a slightly stiff angle, but he doesn't seem to have any issue with your closeness—and when did that change? You remember he used to be so aloof, you never saw him touching anyone. But now… Now, things are clearly different. You sit together for a moment, savoring the warmth and solidity of him, and Blade tucks his cloak gingerly around you for added measure, fussing just a little. There is something simultaneously deliberate and straightforward and pragmatic and tender about it that it feels uniquely <i>Blade</i>. In that moment, you feel incredibly protected, well-shielded and held safe in the circle of his arm. When he speaks, his deep voice vibrates through his chest and makes your ear buzz. "Better?" You nod. "You're like a little arma engine." He huffs in amusement. "I'm glad I could serve as your personal battery." You smile up at him. "You know you're far more than that." His thumb, drawing unconscious circles against your upper arm, suddenly stills, and when you look up into his eyes, you see that his face has gone unreadable—but not in the flat, impassive way it usually does. There's a strange emotion in his dark gaze, in the way his brow furrows and his jaw clenches, just slightly. He opens his mouth to say something, his cool breath just whispering against your lips… …And then he flinches at the sound of Trouble's voice, interrupting suddenly from just outside the entrance to your shelter. "River's gone down, Blade," the sniper says softly. "Should I tell the others to move out?" <<include "cavereact">>

"We don't have to," you try and demur, hardly knowing what you're saying. Blade smirks at you slightly. "I want to," he says, more direct and at ease than you would expect. "I'm offering. And I don't bite." <<include "theoffer">>

Blade rolls his eyes. "If you want to call it that," he says in his stiff, dignified tone, dropping his arm slightly. "I'm not in the habit of watching my officers freeze." "Oh, so you would do this for just <i>any</i> officer?" you tease. He gives you a very Ket kind of frown, but doesn't answer. <<include "theoffer">>

Blade lets his arm drop, clearing his throat. "If you need them, I brought sunberries," he says after a moment, looking out into the rain. "Of the kind we looked for in the Reach. Their taste isn't pleasant, but chewing them will warm the blood." You thank him for the thought, and silence descends on you once more. <<include "almostdozing">>

Blade nods. "If you need them, I brought sunberries," he says, a tad awkward. "Of the kind we looked for in the Reach. Their taste isn't pleasant, but chewing them will warm the blood." You thank him for the thought, and silence descends on you once more. <<include "almostdozing">>

<ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'You nod, shivering more violently now.' 'shivering7violently'>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <<if not hasVisited("you7raise")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">You raise a brow at him. "That one of your lines?"</div>' 'you7raise'>><<setchase -3>><<set $chaseromanceflag -= 1>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link 'You shake your head. "I\'m fine."' 'you7shake'>><<set $chaseromanceflag -= 5>><</link>></li> </ul>

He slides closer and wraps his arm around your shoulders, tucking you comfortably against his side. "There," he says companionably. "No one's watching, and you've got me to cozy up to. That's better, isn't it?" He <i>is</i> warm, despite the leanness and wiriness of his body; you close your eyes and press your cold nose against his shoulder, breathing in the familiar scents of amber and cologne. Then, when you look up to face him again, you suddenly feel Chase's fingers gripping your chin, then sliding up to cup your cheek, tilting your face towards him affectionately… and then he's kissing you, a deep and languid kind of kiss that sends sunlight blooming through your body and stirs warmth all throughout your chest. After several seconds, Chase draws away, nipping playfully at your lips before he leans back to look at you. He has a lazy, half-lidded, well-kissed look to him, a hint of his usual wickedness in his grin. "Been dying to do that," he whispers, mischievous. He kisses the tip of your nose. "Didn't know when I'd get the chance." You pinch his side playfully. <<nobr>><<if $chaseroom is true>> "You could have done it anytime last night." <br><br> "You said we couldn't," he says in a teasing tone. "And I'm not anything but a strict rule-follower. But you've been wearing my resistance thin. A man can only take so much, you know." <<else>> "What happened to keeping work and pleasure separate?" you murmur. <br><br> "You know me," the thief teases. "Always one for breaking the rules—even my own, from time to time. And I can't help it that you're so irresistible." <</if>><</nobr>> "Even when I'm as soggy as a drowned swamp rat and covered in mud?" "<i>Especially</i> when you're as soggy as a drowned swamp rat and covered in mud. You pull it off remarkably well." "Thanks ever so much." The two of you jump when Blade's voice suddenly sounds from just outside the entrance to your little shelter, cutting through the intimacy of your moment like his precious sword. "The river's gone down," he says, clipped and quiet under the pounding of the rain. "We should move out." <<include "cavereact">>

"Contrary to popular opinion, not everything I do is for an ulterior motive," Chase answers lightly. "I <i>do</i> care about you, beyond wanting to get in your pants." He pauses. "I'm saying I care about your wellbeing, obviously." He coughs. "So… cold?" <<include "chasecuddle">>

He cocks his head. "If you say so. You know you don't have to act tough in front of me, right?" "I'm not," you answer, just a shade testy. Chase shrugs. "If you say so." Silence descends over you once more, and after several minutes, you almost find yourself dozing in the rhythmic pitter-patter of the rain and the meager warmth of your shelter… but then, all too soon, you hear Trouble's voice speaking to you from outside. "Looks like the river's gone down, all," he says softly. "Let's get a move on, get to where we're going faster. I don't fancy sticking around here until nightfall." <<include "cavereact">>

He smiles, a little shyly. "I've got a trick to help you warm up," he says, his voice soft. "Can I…?" At your nod, he shifts closer, then wraps his large hand around your wrist, his thumb settling against your pulse-point and rubbing in small, soothing circles. His other palm settles against your heart, spanning across your collarbone, the fingertips just grazing against the hollow at your throat. For a moment, you think he just wants to feel the beating of your heart… but then you feel a miraculous and delicious warmth spreading through your chest, up your arm, across your cheekbones. Your flesh tingles as the warmth moves through you; you feel the sweet, buzzing ache of magic in the air, making your skin prickle with goosebumps. Red smiles at you softly. "Something I picked up during my travels," he says, his green eyes twinkling in the gloom. "When you don't have someone to help warm you up on the road, it's useful to know how to use magic to do it, instead." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Smirk at him. "Those are the <i>only</i> two ways to warm up, huh? Another body or magic?"' 'warm7uphuh'>><<setcharisma +1>><<setred +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Raise a brow at him. "You never had <i>anyone</i> else to warm you up?"' 'raise7warm'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Look away shyly, not knowing what to say. "Yeah... useful..."' 'two7of'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Meet his gaze. "And what happens if you have both?"' 'meet7his'>><<set $redromanceflag += 5>><</link>></li> </ul>

He grins. "Well, I'm talking about circumstances where lighting a fire isn't possible. I'm sorry, all right? Clearly I have a two-track mind." "Magic and sex," you quip. "Sounds about right." "The Autarchy really ought to string me up," he says lightly. "Those are pretty much the two cardinal sins of the day." "Red Antiqua, resident bad boy." He chuckles. "Archmage, human furnace, bad boy. My portfolio is complete." "The perfect package." You laugh together for a moment before he sobers a little, locking eyes with you. His palm is still warm and thrumming against your heart. "You know," he begins, "I…" <<include "two7of">>

Red grins, a bit sheepish and abashed. "Well, no. Is that such a surprise?" <<nobr>><<if $education is "Circle-trained">> "Given your history at the Circle, sort of," you grumble. <br><br> <<if $redrelationship is "ex">> "You are talking about how <i>we</i> dated, right?" Red shoots back, arching his brow at you. "Otherwise, you'd sound like a mighty hypocrite." <br><br> "That's different!" <br><br> "Really?" he teases. "How?" <</if>> <<else>> You look away. "Sort of…" <br><br> "Why?" he teases. "Because of my irresistible good looks?" <br><br> You look back and narrow your eyes at him. "You suddenly got a boatload of confidence from somewhere." <br><br> He grins. "Did I? That's strange. Doesn't have anything to do with getting to warm up a beautiful $woman, that's for sure." <br><br> Your heart skips a beat, despite yourself. "You think I'm beautiful?" <br><br> Red sobers a little, his eyes locked on yours as his palm presses against your heart. "Anyone with eyes would, <<c firstname>>." His tone softens slightly. "You know that, don't you?" <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "two7of">>

It comes out more salacious than you intend—but Red doesn't seem to mind. His grin turns impish, rogueish; his hand moves up again to cup your cheek fondly. "Never had the chance to find out," he mutters. "But I wouldn't mind… experimenting." <<include "two7of">>

The two of you jump when Blade's voice suddenly sounds from just outside the entrance to your little shelter, cutting through the intimacy of your moment like his precious sword. "The river's gone down," he says, clipped and quiet under the pounding of the rain. "We should move out." <<include "cavereact">>

He nods. "I've got some of Chase's leftover brandy, if you want it," he says. "Not, uh, for any nefarious purpose… he snuck it into my pack when I wasn't looking. Because he didn't want to bother carrying it himself. But it's good for warming the blood, if you need it." You thank him for the thought, and silence descends once more. After several minutes, you almost find yourself dozing in the rhythmic pitter-patter of the rain and the meager warmth of your shelter… but then, all too soon, you hear Trouble's voice speaking to you from outside, startling you from your almost-slumber. "Looks like the river's gone down, all," he says softly. "Let's get a move on, get to where we're going faster. I don't fancy sticking around here until nightfall." <<include "cavereact">>

You almost find yourself dozing, in the rhythmic pitter-patter of the rain and the meager warmth of your shelter… but all too soon, you hear <<nobr>><<if $cavepartner is "blade">> Chase's voice speaking to you from outside. <br><br> "Looks like the river's gone down, boss," he says softly. "Shall we get a move on?" <<elseif $cavepartner is "trouble" or $cavepartner is "red">> Blade's voice speaking to you from outside. <br><br> "The river has gone down," he says, hard to hear over the splatter of the rain. "Let's move out." <<elseif $cavepartner is "chase">> Trouble's voice speaking to you from outside. <br><br> "Looks like the river's gone down, all," he says softly. "Let's get a move on, get to where we're going faster." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "cavereact">>

<<nobr>><<if $cunning gte 70 and $intelligence gte 50>> <<if $cavepartner is "trouble">> Trouble shifts and begins to grab his rifle, making as if to slide out of your shelter… but you grab his wrist. Something's wrong. He shoots you a quizzical look, his golden eyes glinting like coins in the dark. <br><br> You stare out into the dim gloom of the rain. "I didn't hear any footsteps," you say softly. <<elseif $cavepartner is "blade">> You don't move; your eyes go to Blade's. He puts his hand on the hilt of his sword and shakes his head minutely. Something's wrong, and you both know it. <br><br> "I didn't hear any footsteps," you say softly. <br><br> Blade's eyes are like dark chips of obsidian in the light of the white tongues of lightning forking the sky outside. "Neither did I," he answers, grim. <<elseif $cavepartner is "red">> Red shifts and begins to grab his pack, making as if to slide out of your shelter… but you grab his wrist. Something's wrong. He shoots you a curious look, but falls still at your expression. <br><br> You stare out into the dim gloom of the rain. "I didn't hear any footsteps," you say softly. <<else>> You don't move; your eyes go to Chase's, who's tensed imperceptibly. He shakes his head minutely, maneuvering into a light crouch as he silently unholsters his pistol. Something's wrong, and you both know it. <br><br> "I didn't hear any footsteps," you say softly. <br><br> "Neither did I," Chase breathes. <</if>> <<else>> <<set $asagattack to true>>You begin to reach for your pack and $mainweapon, shifting to slide out of your shelter, but then <<c cavepartner>> grabs your wrist, suddenly having gone very still. <br><br> "Don't," he says, as tense and coiled as a drawn bowstring. <br><br> You look back at him, brow furrowed. "What's wrong?" <br><br> You almost don't catch his next words over the roar of the rain outside: <br><br> <i>"I didn't hear any footsteps."</i> <</if>><</nobr>> Outside, something begins to scream. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "movement7erupts">><<if $asagattack is true>><<sethealth -20>><</if>><</link>></center>

Movement erupts at the entrance of your den, <<nobr>><<if $asagattack is true>> and you find yourself caught unprepared; it's too small of a space to pull your weapon free, so even though <<c cavepartner>> shoves you hard to the side, whatever's attacking you leaps at your face and digs its teeth into your forearm just as your shoulder slams hard into the rocky wall. <br><br> Despite yourself, you scream in pain and fear. You can't see anything in the chaos; the thing in front of you boils with black motion, like a swarm of flies or a cloud of noxious vapor. You catch a glimpse of beady red eyes, a mouth that looks like it's been cut by a serrated knife. A thousand tiny piranha-like teeth fasten onto your sleeve, trying to grind through the fabric and into your flesh. But worst of all is the monster's touch, the brush of its essence against your skin. Touching it feels like plunging your arm into cold acid, as if you're being lacerated with something flaying and caustic and blistering. From the pain alone, you wouldn't be surprised to find your forearm dissolved to the bone. <br><br> <<if $cavepartner is "blade">> Then Blade is there, hacking and slashing grimly, and his sword cuts through the monster with the ease of slicing through a sheet of water. It dissipates instantly into curls of acrid black smoke that make you retch and wheeze. Then Blade is hauling you out of the den, into the cool rain—and straight into the midst of a larger battle. <<elseif $cavepartner is "trouble">> Then Trouble is there, firing his pistol, the sound so loud within the confined space that it almost shatters your eardrums. The bullet penetrates the monster with the ease of shooting through a sheet of water; it dissipates instantly into curls of acrid black smoke that make you retch and wheeze. Then Trouble is hauling you out of the den, into the cool rain—and straight into the midst of a larger battle. <<elseif $cavepartner is "red">> Then Red is there, his hand alight with flame, the sight so bright and dazzling that it almost blinds you. His magic stabs through the monster the way a beam of sunlight pierces mist, and it dissipates instantly into curls of acrid black smoke that make you retch and wheeze. Then Red is hauling you out of the den, into the cool rain—and straight into the midst of a larger battle. <<else>> Then Chase is there, stabbing and slashing with his dagger, and his blade cuts through the monster with the ease of slicing through a sheet of water. It dissipates instantly into curls of acrid black smoke that make you retch and wheeze. Then Chase is hauling you out of the den, into the cool rain—and straight into the midst of a larger battle. <</if>> <<else>> but you're prepared for it; when your assailant launches itself at you, you raise your <<if $mainweapon is "bow">> bow and fire. You catch the glimpse of beady red eyes, a gaping mouth that looks like it's been cut by a serrated knife. Thousands of piranha-like teeth. The thing is boiling, almost immaterial, like a swarm of flies or a noxious cloud of black vapor. Your arrow pierces it as easily as if it were a sheet of water, and the thing instantly evaporates into clouds of acrid black smoke. <<elseif $mainweapon is "sword">> sword and run it through. You catch the glimpse of beady red eyes, a gaping mouth that looks like it's been cut by a serrated knife. Thousands of piranha-like teeth. The thing is boiling, almost immaterial, like a swarm of flies or a noxious cloud of black vapor. Your blade pierces it as easily as if it were a sheet of water, and the thing instantly evaporates into clouds of acrid black smoke. <<elseif $mainweapon is "gun">> gun and fire. You catch the glimpse of beady red eyes, a gaping mouth that looks like it's been cut by a serrated knife. Thousands of piranha-like teeth. The thing is boiling, almost immaterial, like a swarm of flies or a noxious cloud of black vapor. Your bullet pierces it as easily as if it were a sheet of water, and the thing instantly evaporates into clouds of acrid black smoke. <<else>> dagger and slash it open. You catch the glimpse of beady red eyes, a gaping mouth that looks like it's been cut by a serrated knife. Thousands of piranha-like teeth. The thing is boiling, almost immaterial, like a swarm of flies or a noxious cloud of black vapor. Your blade pierces it as easily as if it were a sheet of water, and the thing instantly evaporates into clouds of acrid black smoke. <</if>> <br><br> <<c cavepartner>> swears. "Endarkened?" <br><br> You'd know the taste and scent of that ichor anywhere. You nod. "Endarkened or Tainted," you confirm. "Let's go." <br><br> The two of you charge out of the den, into the cold, lashing waves of rain—and straight into the midst of a larger battle. <</if>><</nobr>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "movement7eruptsi">><</link>></center>

Everything around you is chaos. You're surrounded by dozens of the black, gaseous creatures, their cloud-like bodies hemming you in from all sides. Most of them are vaporous, actually hovering above the ground and swarming with hungry movement, little more than malevolent smoke-like clouds. Some sport two wet red eyes. The larger ones sport many—little red swimming lights growing all over their bodies like pustules. Your innards heave at the sight. There are even larger ones, too, these more solid-seeming than the others. Some are fat and swollen, easing through the water like slugs rather than hovering and darting in the air; the fattest of all are like man-sized piles of jumbled black slime, constantly shifting, collapsing, and re-forming in a grotesque manner. You barely have time to take any of this in before they lunge at you, groaning and gaping. Most confusing of all is the cacophony of sounds surrounding you. There's the roar and rush of the rain, the crack of thunder overhead, but also stranger, alien sounds: marsupial screeches, the frightened braying of goats, a man's drunken laugh, the rustling of invisible leaves. Somewhere in the distance—down the slope a ways, back towards the river—you think you can hear the others fighting. When you check, their shelters lie empty and abandoned. <<c cavepartner>> is already running down the slope. You wipe the rain from your eyes and race after him, drawing your $mainweapon in <<nobr>><<if $mainweapon is "bow">> in one smooth, gliding motion, <<else>> one smooth, gliding ring, <</if>> <<if $asagattack is true>> ignoring the pain in your right forearm. <<else>> holding your breath unconsciously as one of the noxious creatures slides into view—as if charging through it and breathing it in will somehow infect you. <</if>> <<if $cavepartner is "trouble">> Trouble puts a bullet through its eye within seconds. <<elseif $cavepartner is "blade">> Blade slashes it in half with his sword within seconds. <<elseif $cavepartner is "red">> Red swings his warhammer and obliterates it without even pausing. <<else>> Chase puts a bullet through its eye within seconds. <</if>><</nobr>> You arrow down the hill as one, killing dozens of the creatures as you go. They don't seem to be particularly hard to destroy—one clean shot can do it, though the big ones are definitely more substantial—but the danger lies in their numbers: they press in on you, forming an oppressive, poisonous barricade, and you narrowly avoid getting caught in the writhing net of bodies. And more and more seem to be emerging from the trees. All around you are the cackling, screeching sounds of animals you can't see. A child cries in your ear, "Mama, help me, I'm scared!" Someone else screams, "<i>Watch out</i>!" Your blood runs cold. <<nobr>><<if $cavepartner is "trouble">> You've managed to beat some of them back when Trouble slips in the mud and takes a tumble down the hill. He rolls, bangs his elbow against a rock, and sends his pistol flying. <br><br> The curse shoots out of his mouth before he even realizes it: "Haelfire!" <br><br> Immediately, a cacophony of perfect Trouble-voices rise up from the surrounding mist: "Haelfire! Shit! Blood of gods! Help! I'm injured!" If you weren't looking right at him, you'd think every single one of those voices belonged to the blond sniper. <br><br> You meet Trouble's eyes in the rain, and his expression mirrors yours, his eyes wide with realization and horror. You hurry over to help him up; he's cursing freely now. <br><br> "They can steal voices," you breathe as you haul him up. "They've stolen yours." <br><br> "Damn it all," Trouble grunts. He bends to pick up his gun. "No helping it now. We've got to find the others, before—before these fucking things lead them off." <br><br> With his voice, you realize. Just like they tried to do with you. <<elseif $cavepartner is "chase">> You've managed to beat some of them back when one of them drops on Chase from the canopy above. Chase recoils, slipping and falling to the muddy ground as he struggles with the screeching creature trying to attach itself to his face. Before you can hurl yourself over to help him, the thief wrestles his gun up and blows a hole through the monster's head, spitting out an uncharacteristic curse: "Fuck!" <br><br> Immediately, a cacophony of perfect Chase-voices rise up from the surrounding mist: "Fuck! Damn it! Is anyone there? Help—I need some help over here!" If you weren't looking right at him, you'd think every single one of those shouts came from the green-eyed thief. <br><br> You meet Chase's gaze in the rain, and his expression mirrors yours, his eyes wide with grim realization. You hurry over to help him up; he's darkly silent now, brushing mud and blood off of his clothes with deliberate care. <br><br> "They can steal voices," you breathe as you pull him up. "They've stolen yours." <br><br> "So I see," Chase answers softly. He bends to pick up his fallen knife. "No helping it now. We've got to find the others, before—before these creatures lead them off." <br><br> With his voice, you realize. Just like they tried to do with you. <<elseif $cavepartner is "red">> You've managed to beat some of them back when Red slips in the mud and takes a tumble down the hill. He rolls, bangs his elbow against a rock, and sends his warhammer flying. <br><br> The exclamation shoots out of his mouth before he even realizes it: "Damn it—no!" <br><br> Immediately, a cacophony of perfect Red-voices rise up from the surrounding mist: "No! <<c firstname>>! Are you okay? Someone help! I'm hurt!" If you weren't looking right at him, you'd think every single one of those voices belonged to the red-haired Mage. <br><br> You meet Red's gaze in the rain, and his expression mirrors yours, his eyes wide with realization and horror. You hurry over to help him up; he's dead silent now, his brow furrowed as he obviously scrambles for ideas, trying to put the scene before him together in a way that makes any sense. <br><br> "They can steal voices," you breathe as you haul him up. "They've stolen yours." <br><br> "Yes, that must be it," Red breathes back. He bends to pick up his warhammer, shouldering it as easily as if it were a baseball bat. "No helping it now. We've got to find the others, before—before these creatures lead them off." <br><br> With his voice, you realize. Just like they tried to do with you. <<else>> You've managed to beat some of them back when one of them drops on Blade from the canopy above. Blade looks up and slashes it through with the ease of cutting through paper, but the sudden movement causes him to stumble in the mud; when he's off-balance, another creature lunges at him from the bushes. Blade only barely manages to bring his sword up in time to slice it in half, spitting out an uncharacteristic curse: "<i>Paska</i>!" <br><br> Immediately, a cacophony of perfect Blade-voices rise up from the surrounding mist: "<i>Paska</i>! Fall back! Secure the perimeter! I need help!" If you weren't looking right at him, you'd think every single one of those orders came from the dark-haired Ket. <br><br> You meet Blade's eyes in the rain, and his expression mirrors yours, his look narrow with grim realization. You hurry over to check on him; he's darkly silent now, scanning your surroundings with his sword glinting in his hand like a viper made of quicksilver. <br><br> "They can steal voices," you breathe as you draw up to him. "They've stolen yours." <br><br> "So I see," Blade answers tersely. He shakes his head."No helping it now. We have to find the others, before these monsters lead them off." <br><br> With his voice, you realize. Just like they tried to do with you. <</if>><</nobr>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "run7off">><</link>></center>

You run off again, and the thought of these vermin using your voice to lead your companions into a trap fills your veins with fire. But before you can put it to any use, another one of the creatures lunges into view, slapping forcefully against you and <<c cavepartner>> and breaking his hold on you. He yells, tumbling backwards and vanishing into the thickening shadows. You roll away, then look up when you're on your elbows in the mud. You hold back a scream so sudden and instinctual that it stings in the bridge of your nose. The monster is inches from your face, its large, lamplike red eyes boring into yours. It looks like a pile of molten slag; its dripping, shapeless mouth looks like it's melting off of its face. It's with this mouth that it addresses you in <<c cavepartner>>'s voice: "Cry out for your friends, <<c firstname>>, or die." You raise your hand and think, <<nobr>><<if $astral gt $arcane and $astral gt $psionic>> <i>Burn.</i> <br><br> A blast of fire erupts from your palm and envelops the creature in a spectacular blaze. It collapses into a dark puddle, like a pool of ink, and you scramble to your feet and increase the power and intensity of the spell, purging the creature's essence so thoroughly that even the rainwater on the ground boils and turns to steam. <<elseif $arcane gt $astral and $arcane gt $psionic>> <i>Dissolve.</i> <br><br> Some hidden part of your brain flexes, and in that moment, you understand this creature's composition, the makeup of its very cells and molecules. In the heat of the moment, it's easy to switch these molecules to something else, something similar but harmless—like turning poison into water, blood into wine. And that's what you do: you change the creature into nothing, into mindless liquid, undoing it instantly and purging it of all consciousness or shape or form. It collapses instantly back into a puddle in silence. It was as if it had never existed. <<else>> <i>Die.</i> <br><br> Some hidden part of your brain surges, burns, and you catch the creature's dull animal mind up in your own and <i>crush</i> it. You squash all life, all sentience out of it, squeezing its consciousness cruelly, the way you would wring a fruit into pulp. You make sure it suffers as you clench the intelligence out of it. The creature screams—and then its head explodes, and it collapses into a puddle of nothing. It was as if it had never existed. <</if>><</nobr>> <<c cavepartner>> runs up to you, his face scratched but otherwise unharmed. Miraculously, the others are now with him, looking ragged and haggard and wild-eyed but not much worse for the wear. "Are you all right?" <<c cavepartner>> asks, not bothering to keep his voice low. You nod. Blade glances around at the four of you and takes command. "<<c firstname>>, link us up so we can hear each other without speaking." You nod, and within moments, you're connected by a psychic web that enables you to communicate with each other through your thoughts. <i>Stay together,</i> Blade says, his voice stern and unyielding even in your head. <i>Don't get separated again. There are too many of them to kill at once, so our best chances lie in crossing the river. Even if they follow, the ruins can't be far. Hopefully we can take shelter there, regroup, and fortify our defenses for a better position</i>. <i>They want us out in the open so they can lure us away from each other</i>, Red adds in an undertone. <i>We can't let that happen.</i> You nod. Blade shakes the rain impatiently from his eyes, looking grim. <i>Move out.</i> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "grueling7chase">><<if $astral gte 65 or ($specialization is "elementalist" and $astral gte 50)>><<elseif $arcane gte 65 or ($specialization is "shifter" and $arcane gte 50)>><<else>><<if $strength lt 65>><<sethealth -5>><</if>><</if>><</link>></center>

What follows next is a grueling, terrifying chase through the swamp. You have to focus simultaneously on not running headlong into a tree or a deep marsh, but also on not losing any of the people in your party—while also dodging the attacks and swipes of these damnable, voice-stealing creatures, who chitter and shout confusingly at you from the shadows. Every step you take is accompanied by some distant, unnerving yell, the pained cry of a stranger, every once in a while a barked order from Blade that didn't come from him. Once, you catch Trouble looking wildly into the gray dark, and you can see from the look in his eyes that the monsters are taunting him with a dead Shepherd's voice. Probably Kaidir's. The river is still rapid and high, <<nobr>><<if $astral gte 65 or ($specialization is "elementalist" and $astral gte 50)>> but not so much that you can't part it with a flick of your hand. It takes a lot out of you, that surge of magic, but you feel incredibly powerful as you wrench the churning water aside and create a safe path for you and your team. It's with equal satisfaction that you let the river fall back on a half-dozen of the creatures in pursuit, crushing them beneath a white and wrathful wall of water. <<elseif $arcane gte 65 or ($specialization is "shifter" and $arcane gte 50)>> but not so much that you can't convert part of it into a bridge of stone and wood. It takes a lot out of you, the surge of energy required to alter the water's composition into something else, something more solid—but you feel incredibly powerful as you cross over the churning water safely, letting the bridge dissipate back into liquid behind you. It's with equal satisfaction that you watch some of the pursuing creatures get swept away in the flood. <<else>> but you're forced to risk plunging into it, scrabbling for the fallen tree that Blade had spotted earlier. Instantly, the icy water batters you, threatening to snatch you away from the group. You forge gamely on, crawling up onto the creaking, sagging log. <<if $strength lt 65>> <<sethealth -5>> At some point, you slip on its wet, mushy surface and wrench your ankle, but someone catches your shoulder and pushes you on. <</if>> <br><br> Finally, you make it to the other side and jump onto the shore. Behind you, some of the pursuing creatures get swept away in the flood… but the others glide over the water as easily as if they were made of oil. <</if>><</nobr>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "more7running">><</link>></center>

More running, more fighting. More maddening, disorientating noises. You run at a dead-sprint for at least twenty minutes before the creatures finally begin to fall back, one by one, fading into the shadows and rain. The clamor of stolen voices gradually subsides. After another minute, Red grabs your arm and points silently: almost out of nowhere, a broken, moss-eaten stone structure towers before you, as pointed and out-of-place as a clock tower. Somehow, you feel a flicker of recognition as you blink up at it: something about its architecture seems familiar. Is it a temple of some sort? No time to wonder; your group dashes for the building, up its derelict steps, and through the vast open doors, hurling yourselves into the darkness within. <<include "mimirstemple">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "mimirstemplei">><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<if settings.music is true>><<audio "templedownstairs" volume 0 loop fadeoverto 10 0.1>><</if>><</nobr>>The doors slam shut behind you. You stand there for a few moments, breathing hard and staring into the impenetrable blackness inside the temple as you hold your weapons aloft. But nothing stirs in the shadows of this building, and from the way sound bounces around, you can tell that no one's inside of it—at least not anywhere near you. The place sounds vast, however, judging by the far-off echoes of the rain against its walls and roof. After a moment of catching your breath, Blade issues a few curt orders. Chase digs out a travel-lantern and lights it, <<nobr>><<if $specialization is "binder" or $arcane gte 65>> while you turn and press your hand against the temple doors, breathing a spell of sealing and protection over them. You feel the doors shift and lock into place: the creatures outside won't be able to get in, so long as your magic is fortifying the threshold. At least not through this entrance. <<else>> while Red turns and presses his hand against the temple doors, murmuring a spell of sealing and protection over them. You feel the warm wash of his magic just as the doors shift and freeze into a kind of stasis: the creatures outside won't be able to get in, so long as his magic holds. At least not through this entrance. <</if>><</nobr>> Trouble lights another travel-lantern and holds it aloft, studying each of your faces in turn. "All here?" he asks finally, his voice raw and hoarse. "All well?" You check each other for hurts and injuries. Scrapes and bruises and minor wounds, <<nobr>><<if $asagattack is true>> but your arm is the worst of it, <<if $specialization is "healer" and $astral gte 50>> and you've already begun to heal that, your magic dulling the pain and smoothing the scalded skin back to normal. <<else>> and even the pain of that is beginning to ease a little. <<if $healthpotionnumber gte 1>> You pull out one of your healing salves and begin to dab it onto your wound. Immediately, a cool, minty relief settles over you, washing the hurt and infection away. <</if>> <</if>> <<else>> but that's the worst of it. It seems almost like a miracle, though no one smiles. <</if>><</nobr>> "What <i>were</i> those things?" Trouble demands after you've taken stock of each other's statuses. "I've never seen the like; have you?" "They were clearly some form of Tainted or Endarkened," Red says wearily, running a hand through his bright, rain-flattened hair. "Though I haven't seen them, either. <<c firstname>>?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"No idea."' 'no7idea'>><<setintelligence -1>><<if $asagattack is true>><<if $specialization is "healer" and $astral gte 50>><<sethealth +15>><<else>><<if $healthpotionnumber gte 1>><<set $healthpotionnumber -= 1>><<sethealth +10>><</if>><</if>><</if>><</link>></li> <<if ($intelligence gte 65 and $specialization is "conjurer") or ($arcane gte 65 and $intelligence gte 70)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I\'m not sure. But I think I may have a book that could tell us more."</div>' 'book7more'>><<setintelligence +3>><<setarcane +3>><<setmagic +1>><<if $asagattack is true>><<if $specialization is "healer" and $astral gte 50>><<sethealth +15>><<else>><<if $healthpotionnumber gte 1>><<set $healthpotionnumber -= 1>><<sethealth +10>><</if>><</if>><</if>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">"I\'m not sure. But I think I may have a book that could tell us more."</div>'>><</link>><</if>> </ul>

Already he's kneeling and shrugging off his pack, sticking his arm down into it all the way to the elbow. The pack isn't that big, so he must be opening up a pocket of space where he stores things—an advanced trick Conjurers and the like often do for convenience. "I think I have something that could help," he mutters, rooting around for a moment. Silently, Blade pads off to inspect the corners of this deep, cavernous room: from the flickering lantern light, you surmise it's some sort of anteroom or welcoming chamber, with a darkened doorway on the far side leading into the rest of the temple. Chase also prowls off to check for other entrances. Red finally pulls out a thick, battered volume with an air of triumph. "Aha! Bring that light closer, Trouble." He flips through the pages of his book for a moment before he says, "There aren't any pictures in this book, and even the text is scarce, but this entry seems to match. 'Asag. A Tainted creature, rarely seen. They tend to gather in droves and work in unison to capture prey, as they are typically slow-moving and physically-fragile. However, they possess a cunning technique to lure their prey to them: they can perfectly imitate the voices of any person or animal they hear, leading to no end of trickery. Beware: the effects of this voice-stealing are not entirely known. The Asag may use your own voice to confuse you, turn your words against you, and otherwise use it for their ill-will. They may even absorb a part of you through your voice, gaining limited knowledge of who you are and how you behave. They may even be able to use this knowledge and your voice to reverse your magic in on itself—though such claims are unverified.'" Silence at that. Red catches a footnote and adds, "'The more people the Asag consume, the stronger and more substantial they become.'" Another pause. "Judging by the size of them," Trouble says finally, slowly, "they've been eating a shit-ton of people." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "red7grimaces">><</link>></center>

Red grimaces and dismisses the book. <<include "mimirstempleii">>

You concentrate, running your mind over the tomes arranged neatly on your bedroom shelf back home. You could summon one of those books to yourself, instantaneously, and then send it back when you're done—you've ordered them specifically for such a purpose. But you have to think of which one might hold the information that you're looking for. If you pick the wrong text, it will just be a waste of energy and magic. Silently, Blade pads off to inspect the corners of this deep, cavernous room: from the flickering lantern light, you surmise it's some sort of anteroom or welcoming chamber, with a darkened doorway on the far side leading into the rest of the temple. Chase also prowls off to check for other entrances. Finally, you think you've got it. You snap your fingers, and the book winks into existence and falls into your hands as easily as a popped soap bubble. Beside you, Trouble starts in surprise. You flip through the heavy tome, squinting as best you can to read by the faint and unsteady firelight. There! "It's not much," you begin doubtfully, "and there aren't any pictures, but this small entry seems to fit. 'Asag. A Tainted creature, rarely seen. They tend to gather in droves and work in unison to capture prey, as they are typically slow-moving and physically-fragile. However, they possess a cunning technique to lure their prey to them: they can perfectly imitate the voices of any person or animal they hear, leading to no end of trickery. Beware: the effects of this voice-stealing are not entirely known. The Asag may use your own voice to confuse you, turn your words against you, and otherwise use it for their ill-will. They may even absorb a part of you through your voice, gaining limited knowledge of who you are and how you behave. They may even be able to use this knowledge and your voice to reverse your magic in on itself—though such claims are unverified.'" Silence at that. You catch a footnote and add, "'The more people the Asag consume, the stronger and more substantial they become.'" Another pause. "Judging by the size of them," Trouble says finally, slowly, "they've been eating a shit-ton of people." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "red7grimacesi">><</link>></center>

Red grimaces while you dismiss the book. <<include "mimirstempleii">>

"Do you think that's what happened to the other squads? The Asag, catching them unawares and luring them into the shadows with stolen voices?" Blade and Chase have returned from their inspections, having heard every word. "And could that be what's trapping the people of Wallmire in the swamp?" Chase asks. "An army of Tainted voice-stealers—I could see them using that hemming-in strategy they tried on us, forming a kind of moving wall or barrier that prevents people from leaving. Like a sieve, or a net. As soon as someone tries to pass through, the net tightens, and they get caught in the lines and then eaten." <<nobr>><<if $intelligence gte 70>> "But the people of Wallmire say that the murdered victims usually appear posed and arranged in some gruesome display," you point out. "That doesn't sound like the work of most Tainted, who usually have beast-like intelligence, at best; they're generally only concerned with feeding." <<else>> "But the people of Wallmire say that the murdered victims usually appear posed and arranged in some gruesome display," Red points out. "That doesn't sound like the work of most Tainted, who usually have beast-like intelligence, at best; generally they're only concerned with feeding." <</if>><</nobr>> "Perhaps they're evolving," Blade says darkly. "Some Tainted are smarter than others, as we've seen. Or they could be directed by some greater force. A true Endarkened, perhaps. We don't know enough yet to say for sure." You're all silent for a while, absorbing this. Blade and Chase have deemed this part of the temple safe, at least, and once the adrenaline and heat of battle fades a little, you stir and begin to explore the chamber yourself. Most of the ruined temple's features lie in utter blackness, indicating that there are no windows in this room: the ceiling of the place yawns high above you, so far overhead that the thin light of your lanterns don't touch it. From what you can make out, the slumping, cracked stone walls are covered in vines, moss, and other green tangles, obscuring what other art or mosaics may have once adorned the place. And if there was ever any furniture or items here, they have long since either rotted away or been looted; all you can find are clumps of white mushrooms, growing in patches of rich black soil, and a few stone fragments scattered here and there. This place must be positively ancient, its construction dating back to at least a thousand years—if not even more. More curiously, however, you begin to notice something odd as you slowly inspect the chamber. There's an <i>energy</i> here, emanating like heat from the ancient stones: a thrumming, invisible blanket of warmth and power that covers you and fills your veins with sunlight. Each breath you take seems to revitalize you; as the minutes pass, your vision sharpens, your senses become crisper and clearer, your breath seems to come easier. Magic sparks at the base of your skull and churns noisily around your heart. When you meet Red's eyes, his own are wide with wonder. "You feel that, too, I suppose," he whispers. You nod. You feel… <i>strong</i> here, recharged and strong and safe and protected, somehow. The air in this temple feels very benign. But you've been taught not to trust such feelings at first blush. Still, Trouble's eyes look bright and golden, and Chase flexes and bounces on the balls of his feet. "I feel <i>good</i>," he says curiously. "I wonder why?" He cranes his head to try and see into the next room, which appears to be a smaller connecting chamber with a still green pool in the floor. "And I wonder why the Asag didn't even bother to try and follow us in?" <b>"Because this is a holy place,"</b> an unknown voice suddenly booms from overhead, making you jump; Blade rips his sword from its sheath, whirling as he looks for the unseen enemy. The voice is impossibly loud and projecting, slightly muffled as if amplified by a vast speaking horn or bell. Despite its volume, you think you can detect a thin feminine wisp to it. <b>"A sanctuary of the gods. No child of Tapyt would ever dare to trespass here." </b> Your heart is beating rapidly against your throat. You peer up at the ceiling, but you can't find any threats lurking there. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Who are you?"' 'mimirstempleiii'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Show yourself!"' 'mimirstempleiii'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"How do we know we can trust you?"' 'mimirstempleiii'>><</link>></li> <<if $belief is "atheist">><li><<link '"The gods don\'t exist, so why don\'t you tell us what\'s really going on here?"' 'mimirstempleiii'>><<fair_plus "$mimir" -20>><<setfaith -10>><</link>></li><</if>> </ul>

A pause. "<b>Climb the stairs and meet me</b>," the voice says finally. There's a strange rumbling, like the sound of many loose stones tumbling and falling against each other; and suddenly, a new entrance slides open in the wall beside you, gaping like the mouth of some yawning beast. You glance around at each other, nervous and suspicious, but there's not much else to do. One by one, you file together into the darkness. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "mimirstempleiv">><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<if settings.music is true>><<audio ":playing" fadeout>><</if>><</nobr>>It's a confusing, harrowing climb up through the dark, though you're comforted by Trouble's broad-shouldered form leading the way and Chase stepping lightly behind you, the crowd of your single-file companions enfolding you with a sense of security. Still, you find yourself a bit disorientated; the lichen-slick, broken stairs seem to twist impossibly, sometimes climbing in a tight spiral, other times veering abruptly to the side or briefly back down again. You find yourself unable to distinguish which way is really up, what direction you originally started in. You imagine your party as ants, crawling through haphazard, sprawling tunnels and burrows, or perhaps foreign bodies moving through the blood vessels of some vast, unknowable giant. You could be anywhere, you think. You could be so far out the side of the temple that you could be nearly back to Wallmire. You could be a mile beneath the earth, traipsing towards some darkened, brooding heart. At least the sense of general safety persists. You may not know where you are or how this passageway comports with the rest of the temple's architecture, but at least you're reasonably sure you won't be attacked by something. At least not in this stairway. You're not sure you can say the same for whatever awaits you at the top. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "mimirstemplev">><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<if settings.music is true>><<audio "templeupstairs" volume 0 fadeoverto 10 0.05>><</if>><</nobr>>Finally, you see Trouble's head outlined by a faint light coming from beyond the curved archway at the stairway's end. Trouble has his handgun out, and he briefly pauses by the doorway and peeks his head out around its corner… and then his shoulders relax, just marginally. Still wary, he steps out into the light, and you and the others follow close behind, weapons drawn but held loose at your sides. The chamber at the top of the stairs is unlike any you've ever seen before. You'd expected something like the top of a bell tower, cramped and narrow, or perhaps the steeple of a church; instead you find an impossibly large, oblong chamber, low-ceilinged but reminiscent of the Shepherds' atrium in size. Your mind can't really comprehend how such a space fits into the overall structure of the temple you glimpsed outside. More bizarrely, this room is <i>warm</i>, its walls thrumming with a low and buzzing energy, invisible pulses of power radiating from all around you, almost like the audible humming of machines. And the very stones are laced with tendrils of glowing silver paint, almost like luminescent blood, trickles of liquid starlight. Veins and cracks of pearly light run all along the floors, the walls, and the ceiling above, casting everything in a dim but radiant shimmer. <<nobr>><<if $huntercure is true>> It almost reminds you of the lachryma down in the caves below the Reach… but you shake that errant thought out of your mind. The lachryma was a different color, anyway. <</if>><</nobr>> Filling the room are all kinds of alien-looking stone structures, panels, and mosaics featuring a language you've never seen before. The stone structures aren't statues, not of anything you can discern—they more closely resemble monoliths and obelisks, some set with glittering foreign gems and stones, others totally blank and smooth. The same goes for the panels crowding the room: some are inscribed with rows and rows of faded glyphs and mysterious ancient scripts, while others simply have blank surfaces or a single crystal dial. This could be the engine room of some complex vehicle, like a battleship or the steam trains you've read about in fantasy novels… but this temple is clearly thousands of years old. Who built it, or for what purpose—that, you can't fathom. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "mimirstemplevi">><</link>></center>

Standing serenely in the middle of this outlandish mausoleum is a single, fragile-looking young woman. She seems utterly unperturbed by your arrival, but as you draw cautiously closer, you think you can guess why: from the way her eyes are fixed straight ahead of her, without quite following your progress, you would guess that she's blind or vision-impaired. Her cloudy silver eyes—lacking visible pupils—reinforce this hypothesis. Upon noticing this, Trouble instantly lowers his gun, and Red follows suit with his warhammer, though Blade and Chase remain more guarded. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Lower your own weapon.' 'mimirstemplevii'>><<setmimir +3>><<setcompassionate +5>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Stay on your guard.' 'mimirstemplevii'>><<setcunning +3>><<setloyal +5>><</link>></li> </ul>

For a moment, you and the young woman simply stand there; she waits in silence while you take her in. Her appearance seems just as strange as her surroundings; she's dressed in very ragged dark clothes, her pale feet completely bare as she stands and looks at nothing, her thin, wan face smudged and streaked with ash and dirt. She looks incredibly bony and frail and small, certainly underfed, and her long, raven-black hair falls in untamed waves all the way down to her waist. A tattered, translucent veil is draped over her head and partway across her face, obscuring much of her brow. Although her bone structure communicates someone around your own age, her huge, staring eyes somehow make her look unknowable and ancient. No one speaks for several beats; you can tell the others are contemplating how to break the silence and address this young woman, who is clearly the only presence in this room. Finally, you decide to be the one to speak up. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Hello. Are you the one who asked us to come up?"' 'hello7are'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Greetings. We mean you no harm. We\'re Shepherd officers."' 'greetings7we'>><<setloyal +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Who are you, and what do you want?"' 'who7are'>><<setcharisma -1>><<setcourage +1>><<setmimir -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Are you all right? Are you all alone up here?"' 'all7right'>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

The young woman's eyes turn vaguely in your direction, and she cocks her head after you've finished speaking, as if listening to a voice that you can't hear. Behind you, you hear Red shifting, his boots creaking with the movement. "Did I do that?" the young woman asks finally. Her voice is definitely the same one you heard below, dreamy and soft and gentle without the sounds of projection to obscure it. "Yes… I suppose I must have. Or you wouldn't have known to come." <<include "mimirstempleviii">>

The young woman's eyes turn vaguely in your direction, and she cocks her head after you've finished speaking, as if listening to a voice that you can't hear. Behind you, you hear Red shifting, his boots creaking with the movement. "I know," the young woman says calmly. Her voice is definitely the same one you heard below, dreamy and soft and gentle without the sounds of projection to obscure it. "There's never been a version where you hurt me, not even the worst times." <<include "mimirstempleviii">>

The young woman's eyes turn vaguely in your direction, and she cocks her head after you've finished speaking, as if listening to a voice that you can't hear. Behind you, you hear Red shifting, his boots creaking with the movement. "Am I alone?" the young woman asks finally. Her voice is definitely the same one you heard down below, dreamy and soft and gentle without the sounds of projection to obscure it. "I can never remember. No—I must be. There's never been a time where we met and I was with anyone else." <<include "mimirstempleviii">>

Then she stirs a little, blinking rapidly, as if waking herself from a brief daydream. She cocks her head again. "…<<c firstname>>. And… Blade, and Trouble. Red. Chase. That's all of you, I think." Beside you, Trouble makes a little hissing noise of consternation, and Blade bridles like a cat raising its hackles. Striving to stay calm, despite the little needle-prick of alarm in your heart, you return: <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"How do you know our names?"' 'mimirstempleix'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'m afraid you have us at a disadvantage. You seem to know us, but we don\'t know you."' 'mimirstempleix'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Are we supposed to recognize you?"' 'mimirstempleix'>><</link>></li> </ul>

The young woman makes a little sigh, as if asked to perform something rather tedious and tiresome. She lays a hand against her heart. "I am Mimir," she says, as if she's told you this before. "I am a Seer. Someone who can see the future. But I am… also more than that. I am a <i>kithma</i>, and I know you." You glance around at the others, who look as utterly nonplussed as you. You've never heard that term before. Perhaps it's part of the dialect of the swamp, like the words the Wallmirans use. "A <i>kithma</i>?" Red asks from behind you. "What is that? I've never heard of it before." The young woman named Mimir doesn't answer for a moment. Then: "Yes, you have." Then her brow furrows. "Or maybe you haven't. I can't tell. Which one are you?" "Um. I'm Red." "I know," she says tonelessly—though you think if she had a tone, it would be impatient. "But which one?" Blade speaks, then. "Are you the only person in these ruins? The one the people of Wallmire have been leaving food for?" Mimir pauses a little, again with that lag in her responses, as if she's waiting for him to finish speaking long after he's actually done. Finally she says faintly, "Yes, it's me. I am Mimir." "What are you doing here?" Chase asks her. "Are you studying these ruins?" She cocks her head again. "Studying? No. I am seeking the voices of the gods. I can hear them, sometimes, in the old places of power. I can hear their sleeping brains, catch whispers of their dreams, like someone walking through a forest and catching snatches of birdsong. Sometimes they cut through the noise, the veils of time and space that surround me… and they bring me clarity. But I can only hear them in the old places, like this one." She pauses, as if waiting for you to look around the room—which you do. "Some people think of these sites as resting places, holy burial sites or waystations, or the places where leylines meet; or springs and founts where the power of the earth wells up and spills through. But I only know they were temples built for the <i>kithma</i>. Only a <i>kithma</i> may enter them properly, and find their secrets, and activate them, and use them. But they are all very old, and this one is nearly broken. All of the other ones I visited, or will visit, are dead, or will be dead. Or perhaps I haven't visited them yet. I don't remember." Trouble leans towards you and speaks in a harsh whisper, his voice a warm buzz against your ear. "<i>I don't know what in fuck she's talking about</i>." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Nudge him sharply.' 'mimirstemplex'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Shush him.' 'mimirstemplex'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Ignore him.' 'mimirstemplex'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Catch his eye. "<i>I don\'t, either</i>."' 'mimirstemplex'>><</link>></li> </ul>

"Well," Chase says cheerfully, finally holstering his gun. "This is all <i>very</i> confusing. But it seems safe enough up here, and the Asag aren't getting in anytime soon, and it seems it's just the six of us here. And I'm starving. So what say we take a break and eat something? A meal could clear our heads, and we have to wait for the storm outside to die down, anyway. We can talk over warm food and try to sort this whole thing out." He nods to Mimir, though she likely can't see it. "And <i>you,</i> my dear, look like you're sorely in need of some nourishment. When's the last time you ate?" "I don't remember," Mimir answers tonelessly. "But I knew I would soon, because I knew you would come, and you would offer me food then." "Uh-huh." He shrugs his pack off his shoulders, then tosses a frank look at the rest of you. "Well, let's clear a space and sit down, shall we? We don't need a fire, but maybe one of you Mages could dry our clothes?" <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "mimirstemplexi">><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<if settings.music is true>><<audio ":playing" fadeout>><</if>><</nobr>>A few minutes and one magical bloom of heat later, you're all arranged in a tidy semi-circle around Mimir, though Blade looks pained to be sitting down with someone he isn't completely sure is an ally; you notice how he half-crouches on the balls of his feet, tense, with his hand still dropped over the hilt of his sword. The others are more comfortable—Mimir really doesn't seem to be any kind of threat—and soon enough, bits of hardtack and wedges of cheese and handfuls of nuts and berries are exchanging hands. Initially, Mimir doesn't react at all when Trouble holds out some food to her, so he shamelessly prods her arm with his knuckle until she turns up her palms and accepts the simple fare. Even though she looks like she hasn't had a good hearty meal in a few days, she only nibbles at it, closing her eyes as if to savor the sensations. After an awkward few minutes of silent snacking, you speak up again. "You said you're a Seer," you summarize, reaching out subtly with your magic in a kind of aural handshake to confirm this. And it's true, which you expected, given that she knew your names—you sense the hidden thrum of magic from her, but also something else: the black sparkle of a different kind of energy, swirling around her in constant motion, almost like the dance of dust motes in a hazy stream of sunlight. "And you can divine the future, and you foresaw us coming here and meeting you. That's how you know our names." Mimir keeps nibbling at her cheese, but nods after a moment. "And you're here… searching for the voices of the gods. This is a site where you can hear them?" "It has the power to," Mimir says. "But there's very little left. It's all faded. I've been saving my chance to use it, since I'll only have the one." "And how does that work?" Red asks then. "Is there some kind of magic involved?" "Red," Mimir says, as if surprised to find that he's still here. "Yes. No. Not magic. Not exactly. It is a… tool. Used to channel power." She makes a vague gesture. "I don't know how to explain it. I can't see into the past, you see. Only the future. I know it will work, but not why or how." His brow furrows. "But…" "It amplifies a <i>kithma's</i> connection to the gods," she continues, heedless. She says it as if some unheard voice is instructing her to do so, even if she doesn't truly understand what she's repeating. "Them, and only them. It was built for them. To communicate with the gods when they needed to. But the gods have been asleep for a long time, and their power has ebbed from the world. So even this place is weak and dark, and my blood is thin and unwelded." "But what is a <i>kithma</i>?" Blade demands then. Mimir falls silent and doesn't answer, as if she hadn't heard him. <<include "mimirask1">>

<ul class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("so7you")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"So you came here, wanting to commune with the gods. Why?"</div>' 'so7you'>><<set $mimirproceed to true>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("the7villagers")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"The villagers of Wallmire say they met you. Did they tell you about what\'s going on in their town? The murders?"</div>' 'the7villagers'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("past7asag")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"How did you get past the Asag?"</div>' 'past7asag'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("can7see")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Can you really see the future?"</div>' 'can7see'>><<set $mimirproceed2 to true>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("you7said")>><<if $mimirproceed2 is true>><<link '<div class="question-item">"You said that you\'ve received these visions since you were a baby. What was your life before this like? How long have you been seeking out the gods?"</div>' 'you7said'>><<setmimir +3>><</link>><</if>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("own7future")>><<if $mimirproceed2 is true>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Can you see your own future?"</div>' 'own7future'>><</link>><</if>><</if>> <<if $mimirproceed is true and $mimirproceed2 is true>><li><<link 'You can\'t think of any more questions.' 'nomore7questions'>><</link>></li><</if>> </ul>

This, Mimir answers readily enough. "I am a Sister of the Silver Eye," she intones, with great gravity, as if you must know what she means. "But my sisters have been scattered throughout time. Only the gods know where they are. I have been searching for them. I think for my entire life. When I find them, I will be complete." Red looks positively intrigued by this. "You were separated from your sisters at birth?" he asks. Mimir shakes her head slowly. "We were separated many millennia ago, I think. Our ancestors, the first Sisters, were the true <i>kithma</i>, pure and whole and blessed and united, brimming with the power of the gods. I am only <i>kithma</i> by their lineage, a pale imitation, and my power is diluted and disjointed, weakened from its original form by the slow march of time—and the Sisterhood has been broken. If I can find the others again, perhaps we will regain some semblance of what our great Foremothers wielded… but they are lost to me, and we are wandering the seas of time, unable to find each other, for one mind dwells always in the future and one dwells always in the past. Perhaps the one who sees the present knows where we other two are… but she is only one person, and it is a vast, vast world. That is why I came seeking the gods' help." Then she refuses to say any more on the subject—though it seems more like she doesn't hear you ask for more, rather than that she's actually reluctant to talk about it. <<include "mimirask1">>

"I don't remember," Mimir says serenely. "It is difficult for me to recall the past, or even the present. But I think yes. I've seen a future where you ask me about the murders, and I help you, so I must know about them." <<include "mimirask1">>

"They weren't there, when I came to the temple," Mimir answers. "I do remember that. Then they came, and watched for a while, but they're afraid to cross onto this ground. It's sanctified, holy, and they are the spawn of Tapyt, the enemy of the gods themselves. They cannot touch this place." You all glance at each other, and Chase gives voice to what you're thinking: "If that's true, maybe the villagers of Wallmire would be safe here." "If you could even move them from the town without their getting picked off," Blade points out. "We barely fought the Asag off, and there are only the five of us. To protect a hundred-odd people, even over a journey of a few hours, is a steep risk." "And we don't even know that it is just the Asag," you murmur. "They may be what's keeping the villagers trapped, but they may not be the thing that's murdering them every night." Mimir stares straight ahead during this conversation, as if it's of no interest to her at all. <<include "mimirask1">>

Seers—Diviners who can see into the future—are exceedingly rare, and even the ones who do exist usually only get vague impressions, brief flashes of scenes or fragments in time. <<nobr>><<if $specialization is "diviner">> Even when you've tried it, it's only been a few seconds or a few minutes ahead, mostly to help you predict enemy movements in battle or to sidestep a disastrous ambush or trap. More like a heightened, augmented instinct rather than a true, coherent vision of the future. <</if>><</nobr>> Unlike Scrying, which deals with the present, or Soothsaying, which deals with the past, true Prophesying or prescience is notoriously tricky and unreliable: the future, having not happened, is still malleable and fickle, liable to change just from the simple act of witnessing it. If a person were to divine a vision of themselves falling into a pit, that version of the future would instantly vanish, since having foreknowledge of the pit would ensure that they wouldn't fall into it. So, as far as you know, Seers like Mimir—people who can supposedly see long-form, cogent feeds of the near or distant future—simply don't exist. You're not entirely sure it's even possible. <<nobr>><<if ($intelligence gte 70 or $psionic gte 50) or $specialization is "diviner">> The most you've seen is people using various methods like astragalomancy or oracle bones to guess at signs and indications and omens: to predict fortunes, whether odds are favorable or how to tip events one way or the other. Not anything like what Mimir is claiming. <</if>><</nobr>> She sighs again, as if repeating a conversation she's had many times before. "I told you. I have Mage blood, but I'm more than a Diviner. I'm a <i>kithma</i>. My abilities exceed that of a normal Mage's." "Do you do the same thing Diviners do?" Red asks, ever curious—and kind, you think. Certain academics might find this whole thing laughable, but Red is gentle and polite; even if he doesn't believe a word of this, he goes along with it because he's kind. "Do you use a focus, or close your eyes and fall into a trance, or—?" Mimir is shaking her head. "It's not like that," she replies. "I simply… see. It's all around me, all the time. It has been that way since I was a baby. Like seeing ghosts… but these ghosts are not dead. They only come from many futures that may not ever exist." There's a long pause. "Could you explain?" you ask her. Mimir goes back to nibbling on a rosemary cracker, heedless of the crumbs on her face. "It's like being dazzled by the sun," she says finally. "Like having dewdrops in your eyelashes, and seeing reflections upon reflections of the same thing, so much so that it's blinding. Or like being in a house full of mirrors. Which is the reflection, which is the real thing? And the mirrors reflect into each other, diverging and creating more. Some of the reflections are twisted and warped, or blurry and hazy. Some are very clear and very loud, though they're still not the real thing. But the more vivid they are, the closer they usually are to coming true." She glances at you, and you see now that she's not blind, after all; her physical eyes work fine. But her vision is clouded by all of the things that have not yet come to pass. "Even as I look at you now," Mimir says, "I see twenty different versions of you. Some are sitting, some are standing, some are talking, some are pacing. Some are old and happy. Some are old and worried. Some are young and watchful. Some are weeping. One is asleep somewhere warm: $she could exist ten years from now, or hours, or $she might never exist at all. It is hard to tell which one I'm talking to. And I see these reflections—these versions, these refractions—for everybody." She falls silent for a moment. "I have gotten good at guessing which ones are likeliest to happen, depending on their clarity and nearness. But it is always changing. Even my telling you about them make these ghosts of you shift and vanish, like blown-out candle flames. And some people have infinitely more reflections than others. Most people have more predictable lives. They rise at the same times and work the same jobs and eat the same meals, and their lives trundle along two or three main tracks, with only a few divergences. But there are others whose lives are filled with infinite possibility and potential. The people who impact everything around them, and whose fates are tied inextricably to something larger, and whose tiniest choices can result in a kaleidoscope of minutely different—but distinct—or vastly changed futures. Those people are like you. All of you. When I look at you, I see… so much." She takes a ragged breath, and then falls silent. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "can7seei">><</link>></center>

"Shit," Trouble declares after a moment. "So when you look at us now, you see both our present and our future selves?" "Some of them," Mimir answers without looking at him. "Versions of them. There are thousands, millions, and I glimpse only a fraction. And I only see the possibilities, some potential paths and branches, stretching out and out, never knowing what causes them or where they wind. But not the sure thing. Never the sure thing. There's no such thing." "I don't want to know anything about my future," Red says quickly. "Please. I want to live my life without thinking of—well, anything." "Same here," Chase says. "I'm good leaving the future a mystery, thanks." "I will try to remember that," Mimir says gravely—but you remember that she claims that she only sees the future, and she's not so great at remembering the past. You wonder if she'll remember to keep her promise. "Well, I want to give it a try," Trouble says mulishly. "What's something you see when you look at me? Even if it'll change just by you telling me." Mimir pauses, staring at him—or vaguely in his direction, her eyes tracing shapes and movements that you can't see. Trouble holds himself rigidly, sitting cross-legged, clasping his knees and staring intently back as if they're having a staring contest. "Sometimes, you live to a very old age," Mimir says after a long moment. "Older than Norms usually live, older than you would expect. You were worried that whatever the Equalists did to you shortened your lifespan, and you laugh about that in these futures, because it seems they did the opposite: they gave you the lifespan of a Mage. In some of these futures, you have children, and then grandchildren, and then great-grandchildren. But in some, you die young. Killed in action." She falls silent again. "In a few, they call you the world's first gun-Mage: the first practitioner of gunpowder magic." "Oh," Trouble says, and you can't quite read his expression. "I'm… not that, so you must be looking at some other version of me. Or maybe someone else." Mimir shrugs. "That can happen, too." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Could you tell me something about my future?"' 'tell7future'>><<setcourage +1>><<setmimir +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Remain silent. You don\'t want to know anything about your potential future, unlikely chances or no.' 'mimirask1'>><<setcourage -3>><</link>></li> </ul>

Mimir shakes her head at you. "So many choices," she murmurs. "It's difficult for me to even look at you. It's like holding a crystal with many faces up to the sun. Too bright to look at. There are so many variations, so many branches." She looks at you sidelong for a moment, then says bluntly, "There are many paths that lead to your death, just as many that see you alive and well and… whole. <<nobr>><<if $cainejoin is true and $cainetime gt 1>> In one reflection, I see you talking to a strong, proud young man with coppery hair—Caine, but grown. He hands you a baby. His child. Your godchild." <<else>> In one reflection, I see you with… a clown. And Shery, and Riel. You are all afraid of something, but I can't see what." <</if>><</nobr>> Then she actually winces and looks away. "I'm sorry. There are so many possible futures and different versions, all randomly given, that it almost feels pointless to try and describe one. It could be as out-of-reach and meaningless to you as telling you about a dream I had. And it hurts my eyes." Your heart sits like a lump of coal in your chest. "That's fine," you say faintly. You don't know if you can put any stock into her versions, but it's unnerving that she knows even more names than just the people in this room. And you're not sure what to make of her vision of your future. You decide to set it aside and focus on more important things for now. <<include "mimirask1">>

Mimir shakes her head slowly. "I don't know," she admits. "I can't remember much of the past. If I found one of my sisters, the one who can see the past, then perhaps our visions wouldn't be so fragmented—they could resolve into a more complete picture. But as it is, it is hard for me to look back and pierce the veil of time in that direction. I can only look forward." She shrugs lightly. "Perhaps I will remember in the future. You should ask me then." <<include "mimirask1">>

At this, Mimir smiles briefly, bitterly. "A little," she says. "But in the same way that you cannot see your own face throughout the course of your daily life, except through an artificial surface, a mere facsimile, I cannot see my own future as clearly as I see that of others. What I do get are glimpses and glimmers; but that's all." <<include "mimirask1">>

Mimir nods, as if she expected this. "I need to rest," she says then, very matter-of-factly. She lets the last crumbs of food in her hand drop carelessly to the floor, like she's forgotten she was even holding them. "Trying to sort out all of these versions and address the ones that are actually you is very taxing. I normally don't concentrate for so long. Now my mind demands sleep, or I risk pain." With that, she summarily crawls on her hands and knees away from your group, tucks herself into a corner of the room, wraps her little frayed shawl around her shoulders and draws her veil over her face, and then falls asleep. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "mimir7asleep">><</link>></center>

"She's asleep, real and true," Chase whispers after a few minutes, having crawled carefully over to Mimir to check. "An odd duck, to be sure. But a harmless one, is my thinking. She seems to like us." Blade glances around at all of you, having finally relaxed into a more normal sitting position. "What do you think?" he asks, primarily addressing you and Red. "Do you believe her? About the visions?" "Do <i>you</i>?" Trouble asks him. Blade makes a sour face. "I'm not entirely sure I do. She knew our names, and I can't find an explanation for that other than that she has some ability. But that could have come from regular Scrying, something of the sort. I'm not ready to declare any certainty in her—prophecies. It all sounds conveniently vague and unreliable. 'I can see versions of your future, but it's all meaningless or random or changeable, and of no real significance to you, anyway.'" He makes an impatient noise. "Such inexactness is hard to disprove." "You think she's lying?" Red asks doubtfully. "She seemed like she was telling the truth." "You don't have to be lying on purpose to be… you know." Trouble makes an expressive gesture. "Confused. Or madder than a cuckoo fighting a duck." "What'd you think of her statement on your future, Trouble?" you ask him then. The blond sniper shrugs carelessly. "I dunno. Most of it was stuff I already pretty much knew. I either die in battle, or I live to be old and have kids. I pretty much figured that." Then he hesitates. "The—lifespan stuff. About the Equalists. That's new. But like Blade said, she could have been Scrying, spying on us all this time. Picking up details, assembling things for herself. Maybe she figured out that that was bothering me, and she's just guessing, saying things I want to hear. I don't know." "I'm of the opinion that it's all a bunch of bunk," Chase says lightly. "I've seen con artists and 'fortune-tellers' do a much better job of guessing at the future; Hael, some of them have told me some valuable details, even if it was all just flash and bull. This was just…" He makes an abstract, scattered gesture, like something dissolving into thin air. Red glances at you. "<<c firstname>>?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I don\'t know. I couldn\'t say, either way."' 'red7is'>><<setcourage -3>><<setintelligence -3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I think she\'s babbling, poor thing. She hardly even knows where she is."' 'shes7babbling'>><<setmimir -3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I think she\'s lying to us. I don\'t trust her."' 'mimir7lying'>><<fair_plus "$mimir" -10>><<setcunning +3>><<setcompassionate -5>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I think there\'s truth to what she\'s saying. I believe her."' 'mimir7truth'>><<setmimir +3>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setfaith +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

"She's clearly been on her own for a long time," you state softly. "She hasn't eaten well or bathed. I think she's lonely and confused and possibly delusional. These visions… if she never knows which one of them will come to pass, aren't they just that? Visions, apparitions, and not actual prophecies?" <<include "red7is">>

"But for what purpose?" Trouble asks. You shrug. "I don't know. But she conveniently evades too many of our questions, and miraculously only 'hears' the ones she has answers for. I don't think she's telling us the whole truth." <<include "red7is">>

"Even if she had come across this information by spying on us," you say, "it doesn't explain how she came to be here in the first place. How she found and is able to operate this secret chamber in this temple in the middle of nowhere. That alone lends some credence to her story—let alone the rest." <<include "red7is">>

Red is rubbing his chin, deep in thought. "I've never heard of magic like hers," he says eventually. "Magic usually requires active effort, concentration. If I want to make that rock float, I've got to think really hard on it, <i>will</i> it to float, or maybe use a spellword or a rune or a gesture to anchor and focus my will enough to make it happen. It doesn't just happen without my making it so. But the way she describes her power—it's sort of like magic, but also different. It's more like she's a passive conduit, a vessel, a <i>receptacle</i> of the visions, <<nobr>><<if $psionic gte 50 or $specialization is "diviner">> whether she wants them to come or not. When $halfname2 tries to divine things, you've seen it: $she <<nobr>><<if $plural is true>>fall<<else>>falls<</if>><</nobr>> into a kind of trance; $she <<nobr>><<if $plural is true>>have<<else>>has<</if>><</nobr>> to really work for it. With Mimir, it sounds like that doesn't happen. <<else>> whether she wants them to come or not. <</if>><</nobr>> She just receives them in a constant stream, unable to cut them off or distinguish them from her current reality. Different from magic, but maybe a cousin of it." He drops his voice. "I'm guessing now that she isn't actually blind. I think her mind is just so crowded with visions that she has a hard time seeing what’s right in front of her and what’s… minutes, hours, days from now." "How can that be possible?" Blade demands. "Magic that isn't magic?" Red shrugs expressively. "My best guess? A mutation, a random surprise of birth. A moon-moth's wings are always white, until there's that one-in-a-million specimen that's spontaneously born with green wings, for no reason at all. Biologically, anatomically, it's still of the same exact species and genealogy of a moon-moth. It's just… also different. New, but not new, if that makes any sense." "It doesn't," Blade says flatly. "What’s all this <i>kithma</i> business?" Chase asks then. "And she said something about her sisters. <i>If</i> any of what she's saying is true—does that mean there are more people like her out there?" You spread your hands. "It's just so difficult to get any information out of her. Once you think you've managed to pin her down on one train of thinking, she goes silent and stops hearing you, and then you can't get her back on track again." "We need another source of information," Red confirms. "Who in this gods-forsaken swamp would have any information about… any of <i>this</i>?" Chase makes a sweeping gesture at the ancient temple, the sleeping Seer, the walls threaded through with luminous silver. <<include "whataboutmimir">>

<ul class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("maybe7the")>><li><<link '"Maybe the people of Wallmire would know? This temple has always been here. Surely they must have explored it once, gleaned some sort of information."' 'maybe7the'>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("ihave7anidea")>><<if ($arcane gte 70 and $magic gte 70) or ($specialization is "conjurer" and $arcane gte 60) and $magic gte 50>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I have an idea." You could summon a spirit of knowledge to help you understand what Mimir\'s talking about.</div>' 'ihave7anidea'>><<fair_plus "$arcane" +10>><<setmagic +3>><<setintelligence +3>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">"I have an idea." You could summon a spirit of knowledge to help you understand what Mimir\'s talking about.</div>'>><</link>><</if>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("read7mimirs")>><<if ($psionic gte 65 and $magic gte 70) or ($specialization is "enchanter" and $psionic gte 50) and $magic gte 50>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I have an idea." You could try to read Mimir\'s mind. Maybe you can understand more about her if you can look at her memories and experiences, how her mind works.</div>' 'read7mimirs'>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">"I have an idea." You could try to read Mimir\'s mind. Maybe you can understand more about her if you can look at her memories and experiences, how her mind works.</div>'>><</link>><</if>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("divine7past")>><<if ($psionic gte 50 and $magic gte 60) or ($specialization is "diviner" and $psionic gte 45)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I have an idea." You could try to divine Mimir\'s past and see what she herself doesn\'t remember.</div>' 'divine7past'>><<setpsionic +3>><<setmimir +3>><<set $triedtodivinemimir to true>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">"I have an idea." You could try to divine Mimir\'s past and see what she herself doesn\'t remember.</div>'>><</link>><</if>><</if>> </ul>

Trouble makes a soft grunt. "God, I'd nearly forgotten about Wallmire. What's all this got to do with—murders, and what happened to their people, and our squads?" "This damned swamp is only presenting more mysteries upon mysteries," Blade says dourly. "Well," Red says, still rubbing his chin, "I think I've got an idea of how we can dig into this particular mystery. And we won't have to make the trek all the way back to Wallmire to try it." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "maybe7thei">><</link>></center>

Red's plan is simple: he wants to summon a spirit of knowledge and ask it questions about the <i>kithma</i> and the Sisters of the Silver Eye, bypassing the need to try and extricate that information from Mimir altogether. "But we've got to be careful," he warns. "It's an unbound spirit, unshackled, so it's liable to try and break my control on it if anyone makes a wrong move. You absolutely can't break the circle of protection, whether that means moving beyond it or smudging the lines or any of it. And I'm going to be quite tired from holding it in place afterward." "What's an unbound spirit?" Trouble asks, puzzled. <<nobr>><<if $arcane gte 50 and $intelligence gte 50>> "When a Summoner conjures spirits," you tell him, "there are usually a few ways of bringing them under your control. For weaker spirits—called lesser spirits—it's usually just a matter of whose will is stronger. A powerful Mage can bind a spirit to their will, and the spirit is happy enough to allow this because they get to feed on the Mage's magic, their energy and strength, in exchange, becoming stronger and more complex in return. For example, elemental spirits are made of primal energy, so their minds are more like animals, full of base impulses and instinct, and their needs are straightforward: they are called to life-forces, being comprised of life-forces themselves, so it's easy to bind them to oneself and let them share in your energies, which nourishes them and allows them to grow. In exchange, they do the Mage's bidding, though they also depend on the Mage's willpower, concentration, and strength to be anchored to this realm. When the Mage's concentration slips, they dissipate back to the Spirit Realm until they're called again. These are called bound spirits." <br><br> "Other spirits are more complex. Simple life energies aren't enough for them, so they can't be so easily bound to a Mage's essence or will. They generally want something more. Some could be spirits of courage, so they want to be bound to a Mage who sees a lot of battle; or others could be spirits of love, and they'll refuse a Summoner whose heart is bereft of the thing that will nourish them. But when they sense they can achieve resonance with their Mage, they'll agree to form a contract with them. These are contracted spirits, generally much stronger than bound spirits and able to sustain themselves on this plane on their own for longer—but their prices are also much more demanding. Still, both bound and contracted spirits—once the pact is formed—are guaranteed to heed and serve their partners without question. Some may have an attitude about it—think of Vivek—but they are unfailingly loyal to their masters, and they can never harm them. Such is the sanctity and soundness of the spirit-bond." <br><br> "But there are even greater spirits, older and more fickle and… more sophisticated in their wants and prices. These are the most powerful spirits—like spirits of knowledge—and while you may uncover one of their names and be skilled enough to summon them, they're not bound to you in any way. You can commune with them, but you haven't earned their loyalty or their obedience. They're unshackled, free agents, so to speak—and some can be very dangerous or willful. Unwary Mages have often been fooled by these spirits into breaking the circle of protection that keeps them confined, and that the spirit may break loose and try to make a bid for freedom, usually causing havoc on this plane… or they may consume or even possess the unfortunate Summoner. Red is saying that the spirit he wants to summon is uncontracted: he hasn't made any sort of bond with it, and it has a mind of its own. Uncontracted spirits can be unpredictable, unknowable, and… generally tricky." <br><br> "This one especially so," Red murmurs. <<else>> You shrug. "No idea." <br><br> "When a Summoner conjures spirits," Red explains, "there are usually a few ways of bringing them under your control. For weaker spirits—called lesser spirits—it's usually just a matter of whose will is stronger. A powerful Mage can bind a spirit to their will, and the spirit is happy enough to allow this because they get to feed on the Mage's magic, their energy and strength, in exchange, becoming stronger and more complex in return. For example, elemental spirits are made of primal energy, so their minds are more like animals, full of base impulses and instinct, and their needs are straightforward: they are called to life-forces, being comprised of life-forces themselves, so it's easy to bind them to oneself and let them share in your energies, which nourishes them and allows them to grow. In exchange, they do the Mage's bidding, though they also depend on the Mage's willpower, concentration, and strength to be anchored to this realm. When the Mage's concentration slips, they dissipate back to the Spirit Realm until they're called again. These are called bound spirits." <br><br> "Other spirits are more complex. Simple life energies aren't enough for them, so they can't be so easily bound to a Mage's essence or will. They generally want something more. Some could be spirits of courage, so they want to be bound to a Mage who sees a lot of battle; or others could be spirits of love, and they'll refuse a Summoner whose heart is bereft of the thing that will nourish them. But when they sense they can achieve resonance with their Mage, they'll agree to form a contract with them. These are contracted spirits, generally much stronger than bound spirits and able to sustain themselves on this plane on their own for longer—but their prices are also much more demanding. Still, both bound and contracted spirits—once the pact is formed—are guaranteed to heed and serve their partners without question. Some may have an attitude about it—think of Vivek, back at the compound—but they are unfailingly loyal to their masters, and they can never harm them. Such is the sanctity and soundness of the spirit-bond." <br><br> "But there are even greater spirits, older and more fickle and… more sophisticated in their wants and prices. These are the most powerful spirits—like spirits of knowledge—and while one might uncover one of their names and be skilled enough to summon them, they're not bound to that person in any way. You can commune with them, but you haven't earned their loyalty or their obedience. They're unshackled, free agents, so to speak—and some can be very dangerous or willful. Unwary Mages have often been fooled by these spirits into breaking the circle of protection that keeps them confined, and that the spirit may break loose and try to make a bid for freedom, usually causing havoc on this plane… or they may consume or even possess the unfortunate Summoner. The spirit that I have in mind is uncontracted: I haven't made any sort of bond with it, and it has a mind of its own. Uncontracted spirits can be unpredictable, unknowable, and… generally tricky. This one especially so. It's very old, and very wise, but it doesn't usually play nice with others." <</if>><</nobr>> "Why haven't you tried to form a contract with it?" Chase asks. "I'd think a spirit of knowledge would be mighty useful for your research." "It refuses to be contracted," Red says, a bit wearily. "It allows me to summon it from time to time, and talk with it and ask it questions, but it adamantly refuses to be bonded to me in a way that lets me call it up instantaneously. So now, any time I want to, I've got to go through the whole tiresome ritual of drawing the runes, the wards, and the spell-circles… and I've got to offer it up things to tempt it into answering my questions." "What do you usually offer it?" Blade asks, sounding interested despite himself. Red sighs and glances at the meager supplies you brought with you. "Generally, I can get some answers out of it with food. Spirits, especially those familiar with the mortal realm like spirits of knowledge, generally crave the corporeal. But we don't have very much on-hand, so I'll have to keep my questions short." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "maybe7theii">><<set $spiritsanddemons to true>><</link>></center>

<<notify_codex_endarkened "Spirits and Demons">>About ten minutes later, Red's preparations are complete: he sketches out a circle of chalk around your group and Mimir to protect you from the spirit, a circle around himself, and a circle to contain and confine the spirit to one spot, reinforcing the barriers with various runes and muttered spellwords. Then he piles what little food is left into a tiny mound in front of him: a few nuts, a hard rind of cheese, some squashed berries and broken crackers. It is an admittedly pitiable offering, and you hope it will be enough to appease the spirit of knowledge. Then you wait as he closes his eyes and begins the summoning, letting his breathing fall into the accepted patterns and holding his palm over each spell-mark, infusing it with his will. Slowly, you can feel the air tense around you as the summoning builds itself, mark by mark, word by word, sign by sign. Finally, you see a spark of energy flicker and build at the corner of your eye, brighter than candlelight, shot through with iridescent flashes of gold, crimson, green. You feel the walls between Blest and the Spirit Realm shift, just a little… And then, suddenly, the spirit is there, hovering inside its circle, glowing and flickering dimly like lightning from within a thundercloud, formless and hard to see. "Sophonax," Red says, smiling a little. "Welcome back." The spirit merely hovers in the air for a moment, seemingly taking in its surroundings. Finally it says, its voice a metallic scrape against your mind: <<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="spirit">Mage-whelp. What paltry offering have you brought me now? And who are these interlopers?</span><<else>><i>Mage-whelp. What paltry offering have you brought me now? And who are these interlopers?</i><</if>> "These are my friends," Red answers patiently. "We have some questions to ask you. And I know that you're hungry; and I have food." Sophonax actually scoffs. <<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="spirit">Nuts and broken crumbs? You couldn't have even brought wine? This is worse than when you summoned me just to multiply for you.</span><<else>><i>Nuts and broken crumbs? You couldn't have even brought wine? This is worse than when you summoned me just to multiply for you.</i><</if>> "That was a complex mathematical theorem," Red says hastily, while Trouble covers a snicker. "But never mind that. These are dried dates from the western desert, Heth Macoll—and this is cheese from far Ibara…" <<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="spirit">Don't take me for a fool, Mage-whelp. These are scraps.</span><<else>><i>Don't take me for a fool, Mage-whelp. These are scraps.</i><</if>> Red sighs and looks like he's making an effort not to roll his eyes. "Do you want something else, if this is insufficient?" The spirit of knowledge takes on an air of thoughtfulness, and you sense its alien regard. <<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="spirit">Yes. I don't know these 'friends' of yours. What do they have to offer me?</span><<else>><i>Yes. I don't know these 'friends' of yours. What do they have to offer me?</i><</if>> "You want blood, or something?" Trouble intones. "I can do that." <<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="spirit">I am a spirit of knowledge</span>,<<else>><i>I am a spirit of knowledge,</i><</if>> Sophonax answers, equally unperturbed. <<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="spirit">I will trade knowledge for knowledge. Give me a secret, or a dream. Tell me some ancient technique of your craft. Give me a poem or a memory. Let me taste the world through you. </span><<else>><i>I will trade knowledge for knowledge. Give me a secret, or a dream. Tell me some ancient technique of your craft. Give me a poem or a memory. Let me taste the world through you.</i><</if>> You all look at Red, who shrugs, a bit helplessly. "And then you'll answer our questions?" Sophonax bobs in the air a little in assent. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Fine." You sing a song to appease the spirit.' 'fine7you'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Fine." You tell the spirit something you\'ve never told anyone before.' 'fine7tell'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Fine." You give the spirit the memory of your most recent vivid dream, even if it means you\'ll forget it.' 'fine7memory'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Refuse to give the spirit anything. This is Red\'s deal, not yours.' 'refuse7spirit'>><<fair_plus "$compassionate" -10>><<fair_plus "$loyal" -15>><<set $cantbecommander += 1>><<setred -3>><<setmimir -3>><<setintelligence -3>><<setblade -3>><<settrouble -3>><</link>></li> </ul>

Spirits are pleased by displays of humanity, little glimmers of things they can't have in the Spirit Realm, like art or music. You belt out the lyrics to… <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '...<i>the Freeborn Blades</i>, a rousing battle-song for warriors.' 'saphonax7seems'>><<setblade +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '...<i>the Light of Fortuna</i>, an aching and nostalgic song about star-crossed lovers.' 'saphonax7seems'>><<setred +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '...<i>Venture Hall</i>, a robust drinking song often chanted in taverns.' 'saphonax7seems'>><<settrouble +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '...<i>the Sea Queen</i>, a cheerful ditty about a mischievous siren.' 'saphonax7seems'>><<setchase +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Sophonax seems surprised about your suddenly breaking out into song, and the others are hiding grins, but your offering seems to please the spirit. <<include "looking7around">>

You tell the spirit about… <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '...your mother\'s secret peach custard recipe. You have it memorized, but you haven\'t been able to make it since... your thirteenth birthday.' 'spirit7accepts'>><</link>></li> <<if $education is "Circle-trained">><li><<link '...the fact that you once cheated on a test.' 'cheated7test'>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $education is "Self-taught">><li><<link '...the time you once rescued an extremely sacrilegious text from a book-burning.' 'time7rescued'>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $heritage is "Elf">><li><<link '...the time you stumbled across a mysterious statue in the forest, and the sight of it made you weep.' 'time7stumbled'>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $heritage is "Ket">><li><<link '...the time you were playing with Zori on the shore, and you stumbled across what you thought was a piece of driftwood... but it was actually a dead man.' 'playing7zori'>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $heritage is "Hunter">><li><<link '...the time you took in a stray kitten and kept it under your bed without your parents knowing.' 'stray7hunter'>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $heritage is "Norm">><li><<link '...the time that Zori was struck by a bully, and you beat the bully senseless in return.' 'zori7struck'>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $faith lt 50>><li><<link '...the fact that you once knocked over a statue of the One-God.' 'knocked7statue'>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link '...the time that you once helped a desperate man throw the body of a gangster who\'d been tormenting him into the river.' 'helped7man'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '...the time you accidentally wandered into a brothel and wound up fighting your way out.' 'wandered7brothel'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '...the time that you once joined a circus troupe for a few weeks in order to evade some enemies.' 'circus7troupe'>><</link>></li> </ul>

You did it when you were young and during a period of intense stress. You've never breathed a word of that to anyone, not even Red. <<include "spirit7accepts">>

You thought you'd been rescuing yet another spellbook, but what you actually plucked from the flames was a legitimately profane book, outlining all sorts of dark and disturbing rituals. You'd burned it yourself shortly after, and you've never spoken a word about it to anyone. You're not quite sure why. <<include "spirit7accepts">>

You can't explain it. You have no idea why that statue moved you to tears. You can't even recall what it looks like. You just remember the secret air of that glade, the ancientness of the trees, the knowing, watchful presence of that place and time, and you remember crying. You've never spoken of that to anyone. <<include "spirit7accepts">>

You'll never forget seeing something odd, rolling around in the shallows, like a strange log or plank. And then noticing the clouds of pink in the water, and then the flies… and when you rolled him over, how his eyes had stared. For some reason, you and Zori were convinced that you'd get in trouble for coming across this startling sight, even though you weren't doing anything wrong. A strange panic and fear overtook you both. You returned to the village without telling anyone about what you'd seen, and an hour later, some of the fishermen found the body. A drowned sailor, they thought. But you and Zori never told a soul that you'd seen him first. <<include "spirit7accepts">>

In Maj, cats were strictly relegated as barn animals and mousers, and your mother would have thrown a fit if she'd known you'd rescued one from the cold and brought it inside. You got away with it for several weeks, but when that cat was grown, it wound up creating a <i>lot</i> of babies around the village… You never told a soul about that: not even Zori. <<include "spirit7accepts">>

You remember how fearful you were of retaliation after that: not necessarily from the bully or their friends, but from the fact that you were the mayor's only child, and the idea that you were bloodying other children's noses could have been used against your family. <i>Menace</i>, you could hear them whisper, that night after the fight. <i>See what happens when you take a Mage foundling into your home</i>. You were terrified it would break your parents' hearts, in only the way a child could imagine. Thankfully, no one ever remarked upon the fight—it was just as routine and commonplace as any other schoolyard squabble. But you still never breathed a word of it to anybody… except for Zori. <<include "spirit7accepts">>

You did it when you were young and in a moment of intense pain and rage. Such a crime is punishable by imprisonment or even death in the right places, so you've never breathed a word of doing that to anyone. <<include "spirit7accepts">>

It's a long and complex story, full of distress, exploitation, and murder, and you've never breathed a word of it to anyone. <<include "spirit7accepts">>

It's a long and complex story, full of assassins, poisonings, and bizarre and disastrous coincidences, and you've never really thought to tell anyone about it. <<include "spirit7accepts">>

That was a strange time in your life, and you've never brought up that you were walking tightropes or learned how to juggle torches to anyone. <<include "spirit7accepts">>

The spirit accepts your offering without judgment or comment. <<include "looking7around">>

A few nights ago, you dreamt you were walking in a field you've never seen before, a dazzling place filled with yellow and pink blooms, shaded by a single, enormous oak tree in the distance. The flowers swayed in an invisible wind, and the air smelled sweet and warm. The place felt remarkably safe to you, but also lonely, somehow. You remember looking around and thinking that it didn't have the people you expected to be waiting for you. Sophonax absorbs this memory without comment. <<include "looking7around">>

Red runs a hand through his bright hair. "Fine. I'll give you a poem I memorized once, even if it means I'll forget it. Happy?" <<include "looking7around">>

Looking around, it seems the others are making their own silent offerings, their brows knit in concentration. It seems whatever they're giving is sufficient, because after a moment, the spirit says, <<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="spirit">Ask your questions</span>.<<else>><i>Ask your questions.</i><</if>> <<include "sophonax">>

<ul class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("what7kithma")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"What is a <i>kithma</i>?"</div>' 'what7kithma'>><<set $learnedkithma to true>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("silver7eye")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"What are the Sisters of the Silver Eye?"</div>' 'silver7eye'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("is7mimir")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Is Mimir telling the truth?"</div>' 'is7mimir'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("in7wallmire")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"What\'s going on in Wallmire? Who or what is killing the villagers?"</div>' 'in7wallmire'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("defeat7asag")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Do you know of any way to defeat the Asag?"</div>' 'defeat7asag'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("what7answer")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"What is the answer to life, the universe, and everything?"</div>' 'what7answer'>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link 'It\'s time to dismiss the spirit.' 'its7time'>><</link>></li> </ul>

<<nobr>>Sophonax's answer is instantaneous. <<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="spirit">That is an old, old term</span>,<<else>><i>That is an old, old term,</i><</if>> it says. <<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="spirit">It means 'light of the world' in the ancient tongues. It was a name given to those believed to be the gods' chosen, or the gods' champions or vessels, or perhaps their mortal children—tools and weapons of the gods, at any rate, blessed with gifts beyond mortal ken and abilities surpassing those of normal Children of Light. The kithma were extraordinary souls, selected and uplifted for their elite qualities: leaders and heroes who acted as conduits for the gods' will in exchange for miraculous power. It is said they appeared intermittently throughout the ages, often during times of great crisis. The gods would stir from their dreams or from their thrones in the heavens long enough to grant these champions their favor, bequeathing them with great boons. The first Elven queen, who forged the great protections on the Elven cities, was said to be a kithma. And Ambriodhe, Jermayan Brokenblade, Archmage Nimue Salaminh. The dragon king Zephaniel was the first of his kind to speak, and he could breathe lightning. A Drake, but also more than a Drake. The angel Uriel was said to be a messenger of the gods, made in the likeness of a winged Asteriae, but also something different. Many of the old legends posit that most of history's greatest figures were actually kithma.</span><<else>><i>It means 'light of the world' in the ancient tongues. It was a name given to those believed to be the gods' chosen, or the gods' champions or vessels, or perhaps their mortal children—tools and weapons of the gods, at any rate, blessed with gifts beyond mortal ken and abilities surpassing those of normal Children of Light. The kithma were extraordinary souls, selected and uplifted for their elite qualities: leaders and heroes who acted as conduits for the gods' will in exchange for miraculous power. It is said they appeared intermittently throughout the ages, often during times of great crisis. The gods would stir from their dreams or from their thrones in the heavens long enough to grant these champions their favor, bequeathing them with great boons. The first Elven queen, who forged the great protections on the Elven cities, was said to be a kithma. And Ambriodhe, Jermayan Brokenblade, Archmage Nimue Salaminh. The dragon king Zephaniel was the first of his kind to speak, and he could breathe lightning. A Drake, but also more than a Drake. The angel Uriel was said to be a messenger of the gods, made in the likeness of a winged Asteriae, but also something different. Many of the old legends posit that most of history's greatest figures were actually kithma.</i><</if>><</nobr>> Chase makes a light, scornful sound. "Typical—attributing humankind's greatest triumphs and achievements to the blessings of gods. And Mimir thinks she's descended from one of these?" "I mean, judging by the description, it's not that much of a stretch," Red puts in mildly. "What she has <i>seems</i> like magic, but it doesn't operate quite like the magic I know. It's like she's a Mage, but also not quite a Mage, or something more, or at least different… just like many of these other <i>kithma</i>, though it seems her power is also weakened, given that she's a descendant rather than a true vessel." "It still just sounds like a story," Chase insists. "She's cursed with this admittedly unfortunate condition, and someone's spun it so that it's actually a gift from the gods. Oldest trick in the book." <<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="spirit">Actually, the kithma aren't relegated strictly to the gods and the Old Faith,</span><<else>><i>Actually, the kithma aren't relegated strictly to the gods and the Old Faith,</i><</if>> Sophonax interrupts then. <<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="spirit">There are thoughts that your Autarch and her Hierophants are like kithma: conduits and channelers of the One-God's will, uplifted and ordained specifically by Xer and granted divine power to act in Xer name. In certain obscure schools of thought, most of the Church's saints are thought to be kithma as well, seeing how they were also blessed with strange and miraculous gifts. Saint Cecily had her healing powers, even though she was a Norm—</span><<else>><i>There are thoughts that your Autarch and her Hierophants are like kithma: conduits and channelers of the One-God's will, uplifted and ordained specifically by Xer and granted divine power to act in Xer name. In certain obscure schools of thought, most of the Church's saints are thought to be kithma as well, seeing how they were also blessed with strange and miraculous gifts. Saint Cecily had her healing powers, even though she was a Norm—</i><</if>> "Or she could have been a charlatan Mage masquerading as a Norm and reaping the benefits of worship," Chase points out. <<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="spirit">Quiet, insolent clown. And there was Saint Balthazar and his roses, and Saint Mandir, who rid the fields of Salesh of famine and blight. My point is that the concept of kithma—people who don't fall exactly into any one understanding of the races of the Children of Light, and who possess strange and unusual powers even beyond the scope of magic, arma, or grace—has always existed. Inexplicable by logic or convention. There are different names and mythologies explaining them, but they have always existed in some form. It is not new to this Seer.</span><<else>><i>Quiet, insolent clown. And there was Saint Balthazar and his roses, and Saint Mandir, who rid the fields of Salesh of famine and blight. My point is that the concept of kithma—people who don't fall exactly into any one understanding of the races of the Children of Light, and who possess strange and unusual powers even beyond the scope of magic, arma, or grace—has always existed. Inexplicable by logic or convention. There are different names and mythologies explaining them, but they have always existed in some form. It is not new to this Seer.</i><</if>> "Is it true that the <i>kithma</i> could access and control special sites that allowed them to communicate with the gods?" Red asks. "Is this place such a site?" Sophonax hesitates. <<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="spirit">I am only aware of legends and histories, or what I remember from my service to previous masters,</span><<else>><i>I am only aware of legends and histories, or what I remember from my service to previous masters,</i><</if>> it says finally. <<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="spirit">So I cannot say what this particular place is, having never visited or heard of it. But yes, it was believed that temples were built across the land, many before the Dawn Wars, in order for the kithma to commune directly with the gods. The Stag-King Ranwyr journeyed to one such shrine at the top of the Eye of the World, it is said, to beg the gods to bring his love back to life. But he was never seen again.</span><<else>><i>So I cannot say what this particular place is, having never visited or heard of it. But yes, it was believed that temples were built across the land, many before the Dawn Wars, in order for the kithma to commune directly with the gods. The Stag-King Ranwyr journeyed to one such shrine at the top of the Eye of the World, it is said, to beg the gods to bring his love back to life. But he was never seen again.</i><</if>> <<include "sophonax">>

<<nobr>>Sophonax pauses for a moment, as if dredging up distant memories. <<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="spirit">The original Sisters of the Silver Eye were great Seers and prophetesses,</span><<else>><i>The original Sisters of the Silver Eye were great Seers and prophetesses,</i><</if>> it answers finally. <<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="spirit">They first appeared on this earth six hundred years ago. It was said that they were kithma; that the gods had blessed them with prescience and foresight unlike any the world had ever seen. There were three of them, triplets. One had eyes that could pierce the past; one could sweep the turmoil of the present; one had the gift of foreknowledge, the ability to look into the future. But their peculiar gifts came at a price. For one, they were utterly blind. For another, they could never stray far from each other—their minds were always linked, able to filter and make sense of the constant visions they were receiving only when they were together. When separated, their individual gifts threatened to consume them, and madness stood poised to fracture their minds.</span><<else>><i>They first appeared on this earth six hundred years ago. It was said that they were kithma; that the gods had blessed them with prescience and foresight unlike any the world had ever seen. There were three of them, triplets. One had eyes that could pierce the past; one could sweep the turmoil of the present; one had the gift of foreknowledge, the ability to look into the future. But their peculiar gifts came at a price. For one, they were utterly blind. For another, they could never stray far from each other—their minds were always linked, able to filter and make sense of the constant visions they were receiving only when they were together. When separated, their individual gifts threatened to consume them, and madness stood poised to fracture their minds.</i><</if>><</nobr>> <<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="spirit">Once, these Sisters were infamous across the land: people would make pilgrimages to their great temple in Heth Macoll, kings would visit and offer rich gifts for just a moment of their time. But the sisters were strange, enigmatic, reclusive. They cared very little for coin or sacrifices. If they were kithma, no one knows what exactly they were placed on the earth for, what mission they had been given from the gods. They never said. Still, much fervor and worship surrounded them. Over time, they gathered devout followers… and their followers deified them, claimed that they were gods themselves. Eventually, those followers became a convent. And then that convent swelled to an army.</span><<else>><i>Once, these Sisters were infamous across the land: people would make pilgrimages to their great temple in Heth Macoll, kings would visit and offer rich gifts for just a moment of their time. But the sisters were strange, enigmatic, reclusive. They cared very little for coin or sacrifices. If they were kithma, no one knows what exactly they were placed on the earth for, what mission they had been given from the gods. They never said. Still, much fervor and worship surrounded them. Over time, they gathered devout followers… and their followers deified them, claimed that they were gods themselves. Eventually, those followers became a convent. And then that convent swelled to an army.</i><</if>> "What happened to them?" you ask. <<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="spirit">They were killed,</span><<else>><i>They were killed,</i><</if>> Sophonax answers dispassionately. <<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="spirit">In Year 55 of the Bone Era, if you care to know. The mad king Arkholeth sent his soldiers to sack their temple and burn their followers, deeming them a threat to his own reign and claims of divine right. The sisters were killed in the conflict. But before dying, it is said that they told their followers that they would be reborn, over and over again, in new forms, until their cosmic mission had been completed. They bade their devotees to search for them, in these new forms, to guide and protect them—and for a long time, the survivors listened. The Sisters of the Silver Eye became associated with a cult of fanatics, searching always for babies with silver eyes. But, like all things, most of them died out, and the Sisters faded away into the annals of time.</span><<else>><i>In Year 55 of the Bone Era, if you care to know. The mad king Arkholeth sent his soldiers to sack their temple and burn their followers, deeming them a threat to his own reign and claims of divine right. The sisters were killed in the conflict. But before dying, it is said that they told their followers that they would be reborn, over and over again, in new forms, until their cosmic mission had been completed. They bade their devotees to search for them, in these new forms, to guide and protect them—and for a long time, the survivors listened. The Sisters of the Silver Eye became associated with a cult of fanatics, searching always for babies with silver eyes. But, like all things, most of them died out, and the Sisters faded away into the annals of time.</i><</if>> "Until now," Red murmurs, glancing at Mimir's sleeping form. Sophonax has nothing to say to that. <<include "sophonax">>

<<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="spirit">I am not omnipotent,</span><<else>><i>I am not omnipotent,</i><</if>> the spirit of knowledge says, faintly impatient. <<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="spirit">Think of me as an archive, a vast library of memory and knowledge. I can collect endless amounts of information, and recall it perfectly. Ask me what year Calta was founded, or how many stones were in the Tower of Umur. But I do not know this Mimir, or her character. </span><<else>><i>Think of me as an archive, a vast library of memory and knowledge. I can collect endless amounts of information, and recall it perfectly. Ask me what year Calta was founded, or how many stones were in the Tower of Umur. But I do not know this Mimir, or her character.</i> <</if>> Then it takes a moment to scan your thoughts, your knowledge of Mimir. <<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="spirit">But if I had to guess,</span><<else>><i>But if I had to guess</i>,<</if>> it relents, <<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="spirit">I would say she certainly fits the criteria for being a descendant of the Sisters of the Silver Eye—albeit incomplete. But I cannot say for sure.</span><<else>><i>I would say she certainly fits the criteria for being a descendant of the Sisters of the Silver Eye—albeit incomplete. But I cannot say for sure.</i><</if>> <<include "sophonax">>

The spirit makes an irritated little circular movement from within its ward. <<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="spirit">I am not a genie or a djinn,</span><<else>><i>I am not a genie or a djinn,</i><</if>> it says, sounding annoyed. <<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="spirit">I just materialized on this plane minutes ago. How am I to know the answers to your mystery?</span><<else>><i>I just materialized on this plane minutes ago. How am I to know the answers to your mystery?</i><</if>> "You are a spirit of knowledge, aren't you?" Trouble asks, with a hint of sarcasm in his tone. Red shakes his head, though he's repressing a rueful smile. Sophonax puffs abruptly in size, as if offended. "It doesn't work like that," the other Mage explains. "Sophonax is like—a historical index, a living book. A terribly wise and clever book," he amends hastily when the spirit swells further, its essence bulging angrily up against the invisible confines of its circle. "It doesn't know who's hurting the Wallmirans any more than a book would. It'd be more useful to ask—I don't know, Sophonax, do you know anything about the village itself? When was it founded? Who founded it?" The spirit pauses, seemingly intrigued by his questions enough to calm down slightly. <<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="spirit">In the time of my last master,</span><<else>><i>In the time of my last master,</i><</if>> it says, <<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="spirit">this place 'Wallmire' did not exist. Very little was known about the Bleakmoor Marsh, if anything. All manner of deadly creature dwelled there.</span><<else>><i>this place 'Wallmire' did not exist. Very little was known about the Bleakmoor Marsh, if anything. All manner of deadly creature dwelled there.</i><</if>> "Not much has changed," Chase mutters. Sophonax has a few facts about various fauna and flora of the Bleakmoor, possibly outdated by hundreds of years, but not much more to say about it beyond that. <<include "sophonax">>

<<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="spirit">The Asag,</span><<else>><i>The Asag,</i><</if>> Sophonax says, with a note of surprise. <<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="spirit">Those are quite rare, in comparison to other Tainted. Quite stupid, too. Their minds are small and beastly, though they retain some ability to strategize and cooperate with each other.</span><<else>><i>Those are quite rare, in comparison to other Tainted. Quite stupid, too. Their minds are small and beastly, though they retain some ability to strategize and cooperate with each other.</i><</if>> "Could they orchestrate elaborate, individual murders?" Blade asks. Sophonax makes a complex figure-eight, almost a nonverbal shrug. <<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="spirit">I wouldn't believe so, unless their nature has changed in the hundreds of years since I last walked this plane. They do delight in confusing and tormenting their victims, but once the blood is in the water, they can't keep themselves from feeding. Like a pack of piranhas.</span><<else>><i>I wouldn't believe so, unless their nature has changed in the hundreds of years since I last walked this plane. They do delight in confusing and tormenting their victims, but once the blood is in the water, they can't keep themselves from feeding. Like a pack of piranhas.</i><</if>> "Is anything particularly effective against them? We know they're physically weak, but their numbers are fearsome." <<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="spirit">Really? I am surprised to hear that. I heard they could gather in hordes when faced with tempting prey, but it's rare that they remain together like that afterward.</span><<else>><i>Really? I am surprised to hear that. I heard they could gather in hordes when faced with tempting prey, but it's rare that they remain together like that afterward.</i><</if>> Sophonax spins around again. <<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="spirit">They fear fire. And it may behoove you to plug your ears with wax, or devise some system of communicating with each other nonverbally. Mage-speech—talking in your minds—is safe. So are hand-signs or flares. But do not rely on codes or special passwords; the Asag can guess such things in an instant, just from hearing your voice. I don't know how.</span><<else>><i>They fear fire. And it may behoove you to plug your ears with wax, or devise some system of communicating with each other nonverbally. Mage-speech—talking in your minds—is safe. So are hand-signs or flares. But do not rely on codes or special passwords; the Asag can guess such things in an instant, just from hearing your voice. I don't know how.</i><</if>> It pauses for a moment. <<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="spirit">Really, your greatest danger is being overwhelmed by their numbers or by being tricked by their voices. If you can avoid those things, you can minimize the risk.</span><<else>><i>Really, your greatest danger is being overwhelmed by their numbers or by being tricked by their voices. If you can avoid those things, you can minimize the risk.</i><</if>> <<include "sophonax">>

The spirit emits a dull flash of impatience from within its gaseous form. <<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="spirit">Don't be ridiculous,</span><<else>><i>Don't be ridiculous,</i><</if>> it says tartly. <<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="spirit">I have no answer for such a nonsensical question.</span><<else>><i>I have no answer for such a nonsensical question.</i><</if>> <<include "sophonax">>

Red is sweating a little from the effort of keeping the spirit anchored in place; at your nod, he makes the gesture of dismissal, though not before carefully tossing some food into Sophonax's circle. The spirit devours the morsels greedily before vanishing in a whirl of light and dust. "What a charming servant," Blade says dryly, as you all relax. Red laughs a little, breaking the circle of protection around him with a little snapping motion. "Not my servant," he says. "Too—cantankerous, and its price for undying loyalty is too high. Still, I'm fond of it. It reminds me of a spirit I met during my schooldays—" In the corner of the room, Mimir begins to stir. Red stops talking abruptly. <<include "mimirwakesup">>

Spirits of knowledge are trickier than most spirits, whose needs and minds are generally straightforward. Elemental spirits, for example, are formed out of primal life energy, and as such are drawn to life: an advanced Conjurer can easily tame and bind such spirits into partnerships by allowing said spirits to share in the Mage's energy and strength while on this plane, the spirits growing stronger and more complex as a result of the magical tether. In exchange, the spirits will serve their masters with devout and undying loyalty. More sophisticated and powerful spirits, however, are harder to please, and thus cannot be contracted into service unless their demands are met. But their minds are fickle and unpredictable, both inhuman and familiar, and it can take months or even years of repeated bargaining before such a spirit—called a greater spirit—will agree to form a pact with its Mage. Some spirits of courage will only bond with masters who see plenty of battle; some spirits of love will deny Mages who don't have sufficient love in their hearts to feed from. Spirits of knowledge are among the most cantankerous of the bunch. The one whose name you unearthed from an old spirit index is polite enough, but so far has shown little interest into being contracted into service for you. If it were, you could summon it in a heartbeat anytime you wanted, with a snap of your fingers. But since it's unshackled—a free agent, as it were—that means you have to go through the whole arduous process of drawing the circles of protection, the right spell runes and sigils, and you have to have an offering on-hand to tempt it into parlaying with you each time. Otherwise, it can just flit away back to the Spirit Realm at its leisure. There have even been times when you called it, and it didn't answer, because it was already summoned by and in deep conversation with another Mage, who held the claim on its attention. You had to try again days later. "Damn," Trouble whistles after you're done explaining all of this. "Didn't know you Mages had to go through so much trouble for your craft. I just thought it was like—I don't know, training a dog." "Training a dog still takes time," you tell him, "and dogs don't usually possess vast cosmic powers that could turn on you if you make the wrong move. This spirit's fairly pacifistic, but I'd recommend that you don't leave the circle." "And you think it will have the answers we seek?" Blade asks, watching intently as you enclose them in a large rune made of chalk. "Some of them," you answer. "This spirit's very old and very wise. I'm hoping it will at least shed more light on <i>something</i>." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "ihave7anideai">><<set $spiritsanddemons to true>><</link>></center>

<<notify_codex_endarkened "Spirits and Demons">><<set $knowledgespirit to "">> Soon enough, you've scratched out everything you've needed to for the ritual, settling yourself into your own small summoning circle while the others (and Mimir) wait off to the side, protected by their own wards of protection. You dust off your hands on your pant legs and settle in a cross-legged position, leaning forward and closing your eyes. You let your hand hover over the runes inside of your circle, one-by-one, feeling the air warm and heat beneath your palm as you murmur the requisite spellwords, make the correct signs and exert your will into activating the summoning. The summoning builds itself breath-by-breath, the air stiffening and crowding in on you with a kind of surface tension, almost like a shimmering soap bubble. In the empty circle opposite of you, a flicker of color flashes, then begins to grow rapidly, spinning and whirling in the air like a firework. Red, green, gold, pink. Finally, you breathe the spirit's name… <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Haruspex..."' 'knowledge7spirit'>><<set $knowledgespirit to "Haruspex">><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Anneke...""' 'knowledge7spirit'>><<set $knowledgespirit to "Anneke">><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Cerebaton...' 'knowledge7spirit'>><<set $knowledgespirit to "Cerebation">><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Kyrillion..."' 'knowledge7spirit'>><<set $knowledgespirit to "Kyrillion">><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Phanourios..."' 'knowledge7spirit'>><<set $knowledgespirit to "Phanourios">><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Svnae..."' 'knowledge7spirit'>><<set $knowledgespirit to "Svnae">><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Something else...' 'something7else'>><</link>></li> </ul>

The spirit's name is... <<textbox "$knowledgespirit" "">> <<page_break "Next" "knowledge7spirit">>

"<<c knowledgespirit>>," you breathe, "come to me. Anchor yourself to this realm, partake in its delights. I have food, and you are hungry." There's a little <i>pop</i> as something hazy and translucent and owl-shaped appears in your summoning circle, ruffling ghostly wings that look like sheets of clear flame. Spirits can generally choose whatever shapes they want, if not bound to physical vessels or bodies, and <<c knowledgespirit>> usually takes the shape of something avian. <<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="spirit">Greetings, <<c firstname>>,</span><<else>><i>Greetings, <<c firstname>>,</i><</if>> it says formally. <<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="spirit">I wondered when you would call again. </span><<else>><i>I wondered when you would call again.</i><</if>> It eyes the little heap of nuts and berries piled up in front of you, then makes another ruffling movement, like a lady primly arranging her skirts. <<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="spirit">I will accept your offering,</span><<else>><i>I will accept your offering,</i><</if>> it adds in a cool, unimpressed voice, <<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="spirit">but I will not linger long. Ask your questions.</span><<else>><i>but I will not linger long. Ask your questions.</i><</if>> You decide to waste no time, lest the spirit changes its mind and departs. At least it wasn't offended by your paltry offering. Red murmurs something like, "I only wish the spirits I talk to were half as polite." <<include "sophonax2">>

<ul class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("tell7kithma")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Tell us, what is a <i>kithma</i>?"</div>' 'tell7kithma'>><<set $learnedkithma to true>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("sisters7of")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"What are the Sisters of the Silver Eye?"</div>' 'sisters7of'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("telling7mimir")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Is Mimir telling the truth?"</div>' 'telling7mimir'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("going7wallmire")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"What\'s going on in Wallmire? Who or what is killing the villagers?"</div>' 'going7wallmire'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("do7defeat")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Do you know of any way to defeat the Asag?"</div>' 'do7defeat'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("answer7life")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"What is the answer to life, the universe, and everything?"</div>' 'answer7life'>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link 'It\'s time to dismiss the spirit.' 'dismiss7spirit'>><</link>></li> </ul>

<<nobr>><<c knowledgespirit>>'s answer is instantaneous. <<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="spirit">That is an old, old term,</span><<else>><i>That is an old, old term,</i><</if>> it says. <<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="spirit">It means 'light of the world' in the ancient tongues. It was a name given to those believed to be the gods' chosen, or the gods' champions or vessels, or perhaps their mortal children—tools and weapons of the gods, at any rate, blessed with gifts beyond mortal ken and abilities surpassing those of normal Children of Light. The kithma were extraordinary souls, selected and uplifted for their elite qualities: leaders and heroes who acted as conduits for the gods' will in exchange for miraculous power. It is said they appeared intermittently throughout the ages, often during times of great crisis. The gods would stir from their dreams or from their thrones in the heavens long enough to grant these champions their favor, bequeathing them with great boons. The first Elven queen, who forged the great protections on the Elven cities, was said to be a kithma. And Ambriodhe, Jermayan Brokenblade, Archmage Nimue Salaminh. The dragon king Zephaniel was the first of his kind to speak, and he could breathe lightning. A Drake, but also more than a Drake. The angel Uriel was said to be a messenger of the gods, made in the likeness of a winged Asteriae, but also something different. Many of the old legends posit that most of history's greatest figures were actually kithma.</span><<else>><i>It means 'light of the world' in the ancient tongues. It was a name given to those believed to be the gods' chosen, or the gods' champions or vessels, or perhaps their mortal children—tools and weapons of the gods, at any rate, blessed with gifts beyond mortal ken and abilities surpassing those of normal Children of Light. The kithma were extraordinary souls, selected and uplifted for their elite qualities: leaders and heroes who acted as conduits for the gods' will in exchange for miraculous power. It is said they appeared intermittently throughout the ages, often during times of great crisis. The gods would stir from their dreams or from their thrones in the heavens long enough to grant these champions their favor, bequeathing them with great boons. The first Elven queen, who forged the great protections on the Elven cities, was said to be a kithma. And Ambriodhe, Jermayan Brokenblade, Archmage Nimue Salaminh. The dragon king Zephaniel was the first of his kind to speak, and he could breathe lightning. A Drake, but also more than a Drake. The angel Uriel was said to be a messenger of the gods, made in the likeness of a winged Asteriae, but also something different. Many of the old legends posit that most of history's greatest figures were actually kithma.</i><</if>><</nobr>> Chase makes a light, scornful sound. "Typical—attributing humankind's greatest triumphs and achievements to the blessings of gods. And Mimir thinks she's descended from one of these?" "I mean, judging by the description, it's not that much of a stretch," Red puts in mildly. "What she has <i>seems</i> like magic, but it doesn't operate quite like the magic I know. It's like she's a Mage, but also not quite a Mage, or something more, or at least different… just like many of these other <i>kithma</i>, it sounds like." "It still just sounds like a story," Chase insists. "She's cursed with this admittedly unfortunate condition, and someone's spun it so that it's actually a gift from the gods. Oldest trick in the book." <<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="spirit">Actually, the kithma aren't relegated strictly to the gods and the Old Faith,</span><<else>><i>Actually, the kithma aren't relegated strictly to the gods and the Old Faith,</i><</if>> <<c knowledgespirit>> interrupts mildly. <<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="spirit">There are thoughts that your Autarch and her Hierophants are like kithma: conduits and channelers of the One-God's will, uplifted and ordained specifically by Xer and granted divine power to act in Xer name. In certain obscure schools of thought, most of the Church's saints are thought to be kithma as well, seeing how they were also blessed with strange and miraculous gifts. Saint Cecily had her healing powers, even though she was a Norm—</span><<else>><i>There are thoughts that your Autarch and her Hierophants are like kithma: conduits and channelers of the One-God's will, uplifted and ordained specifically by Xer and granted divine power to act in Xer name. In certain obscure schools of thought, most of the Church's saints are thought to be kithma as well, seeing how they were also blessed with strange and miraculous gifts. Saint Cecily had her healing powers, even though she was a Norm—</i><</if>> "Or she could have been a charlatan Mage masquerading as a Norm and reaping the benefits of worship," Chase points out. <<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="spirit">—and there was Saint Balthazar and his roses, and Saint Mandir, who rid the fields of Salesh of famine and blight. My point is that the concept of kithma—people who don't fall exactly into any one understanding of the races of the Children of Light, and who possess strange and unusual powers even beyond the scope of magic, arma, or grace—has always existed. Inexplicable by logic or convention. There are different names and mythologies explaining them, but they have always existed in some form. It is not new to this Seer.</span><<else>><i>—and there was Saint Balthazar and his roses, and Saint Mandir, who rid the fields of Salesh of famine and blight. My point is that the concept of kithma—people who don't fall exactly into any one understanding of the races of the Children of Light, and who possess strange and unusual powers even beyond the scope of magic, arma, or grace—has always existed. Inexplicable by logic or convention. There are different names and mythologies explaining them, but they have always existed in some form. It is not new to this Seer.</i><</if>> It makes a winged gesture towards Mimir's sleeping form. "Is it true that the <i>kithma</i> could access and control special sites that allowed them to communicate with the gods?" Red asks then. "Is this place such a site?" <<c knowledgespirit>> hesitates. <<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="spirit">I am only aware of legends and histories, or what I remember from my service to previous masters,</span><<else>><i>I am only aware of legends and histories, or what I remember from my service to previous masters,</i><</if>> it says finally. <<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="spirit">So I cannot say what this particular place is, having never visited nor heard of it. But yes, it was believed that temples were built across the land, many before the Dawn Wars, in order for the kithma to commune directly with the gods. The Stag-King Ranwyr journeyed to one such shrine at the top of the Eye of the World, it is said, to beg the gods to bring his love back to life. But he was never seen again.</span><<else>><i>So I cannot say what this particular place is, having never visited nor heard of it. But yes, it was believed that temples were built across the land, many before the Dawn Wars, in order for the kithma to commune directly with the gods. The Stag-King Ranwyr journeyed to one such shrine at the top of the Eye of the World, it is said, to beg the gods to bring his love back to life. But he was never seen again.</i><</if>> <<include "sophonax2">>

<<c knowledgespirit>> pauses for a moment, as if dredging up distant memories. <<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="spirit">The original Sisters of the Silver Eye were great Seers and prophetesses,</span><<else>><i>The original Sisters of the Silver Eye were great Seers and prophetesses,</i><</if>> it answers finally. <<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="spirit">They first appeared on this earth six hundred years ago. It was said that they were kithma; that the gods had blessed them with prescience and foresight unlike any the world had ever seen. There were three of them, triplets. One had eyes that could pierce the past; one could sweep the turmoil of the present; one had the gift of foreknowledge, the ability to look into the future. But their peculiar gifts came at a price. For one, they were utterly blind. For another, they could never stray far from each other—their minds were always linked, able to filter and make sense of the constant visions they were receiving only when they were together. When separated, their individual gifts threatened to consume them, and madness stood poised to fracture their minds.</span><<else>><i>They first appeared on this earth six hundred years ago. It was said that they were kithma; that the gods had blessed them with prescience and foresight unlike any the world had ever seen. There were three of them, triplets. One had eyes that could pierce the past; one could sweep the turmoil of the present; one had the gift of foreknowledge, the ability to look into the future. But their peculiar gifts came at a price. For one, they were utterly blind. For another, they could never stray far from each other—their minds were always linked, able to filter and make sense of the constant visions they were receiving only when they were together. When separated, their individual gifts threatened to consume them, and madness stood poised to fracture their minds.</i><</if>> <<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="spirit">Once, these Sisters were infamous across the land: people would make pilgrimages to their great temple in Heth Macoll, kings would visit and offer rich gifts for just a moment of their time. But the sisters were strange, enigmatic, reclusive. They cared very little for coin or sacrifices. If they were kithma, no one knows what exactly they were placed on the earth for, what mission they had been given from the gods. They never said. Still, much fervor and worship surrounded them. Over time, they gathered devout followers… and their followers deified them, eventually claiming that they were gods themselves. Over time, those followers became a convent. And then that convent swelled to an army.</span><<else>><i>Once, these Sisters were infamous across the land: people would make pilgrimages to their great temple in Heth Macoll, kings would visit and offer rich gifts for just a moment of their time. But the sisters were strange, enigmatic, reclusive. They cared very little for coin or sacrifices. If they were kithma, no one knows what exactly they were placed on the earth for, what mission they had been given from the gods. They never said. Still, much fervor and worship surrounded them. Over time, they gathered devout followers… and their followers deified them, eventually claiming that they were gods themselves. Over time, those followers became a convent. And then that convent swelled to an army.</i><</if>> "What happened to them?" you ask. "The Sisters of the Silver Eye?" <<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="spirit">They were killed,</span><<else>><i>They were killed,</i><</if>> Sophonax answers dispassionately. <<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="spirit">In Year 55 of the Bone Era. The mad king Arkholeth sent his soldiers to sack their temple and burn their followers, deeming them a threat to his own reign and claims of divine right. The sisters were killed in the conflict. But before dying, it is said that they told their followers that they would be reborn, over and over again, in new forms, until their cosmic mission had been completed. They bade their devotees to search for them, in these new forms, to guide and protect them—and for a long time, the survivors listened. The Sisters of the Silver Eye and their banner became associated with a cult of fanatics, searching always for babies with silver eyes. But, like all things, most of the fanatics died out, and the Sisters faded away into the annals of time.</span><<else>><i>In Year 55 of the Bone Era. The mad king Arkholeth sent his soldiers to sack their temple and burn their followers, deeming them a threat to his own reign and claims of divine right. The sisters were killed in the conflict. But before dying, it is said that they told their followers that they would be reborn, over and over again, in new forms, until their cosmic mission had been completed. They bade their devotees to search for them, in these new forms, to guide and protect them—and for a long time, the survivors listened. The Sisters of the Silver Eye and their banner became associated with a cult of fanatics, searching always for babies with silver eyes. But, like all things, most of the fanatics died out, and the Sisters faded away into the annals of time.</i><</if>> "Until now," Red murmurs, glancing at Mimir's sleeping form. <<c knowledgespirit>> remains noncommittal. <<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="spirit">I cannot speak to that.</span><<else>><i>I cannot speak to that.</i><</if>> <<include "sophonax2">>

<<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="spirit">I am not omnipotent,</span><<else>><i>I am not omnipotent,</i><</if>> the spirit of knowledge says, as if surprised you would ask that. <<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="spirit">Think of me as an archive, a vast library of memory and knowledge. I can collect endless amounts of information, and recall it perfectly. Ask me what year Calta was founded, or how many stones were in the Tower of Umur. But I do not know this Mimir, or her character. </span><<else>><i>Think of me as an archive, a vast library of memory and knowledge. I can collect endless amounts of information, and recall it perfectly. Ask me what year Calta was founded, or how many stones were in the Tower of Umur. But I do not know this Mimir, or her character.</i><</if>> Then it takes a moment to scan your thoughts, your knowledge of Mimir. <<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="spirit">But if I had to guess,</span><<else>><i>But if I had to guess,</i><</if>> it relents, <<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="spirit">I would say she certainly fits the criteria for being a descendant of the Sisters of the Silver Eye—albeit incomplete, her blood diluted. But I cannot say for sure.</span><<else>><i>I would say she certainly fits the criteria for being a descendant of the Sisters of the Silver Eye—albeit incomplete, her blood diluted. But I cannot say for sure.</i><</if>> <<include "sophonax2">>

The owl-shaped spirit spreads its wings in apparent deference. <<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="spirit">That, I do not know,</span><<else>><i>That, I do not know,</i><</if>> it says with regret. <<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="spirit">I am a spirit of knowledge, but I am not omnipotent. I am a living library, the Last Archive of Ermenway, and I can tell you how many scales were in the basilisk's head they mounted in House Brassenthwaite, or what year the Argenti river was first dammed. But of current events, I know little.</span><<else>><i>I am a spirit of knowledge, but I am not omnipotent. I am a living library, the Last Archive of Ermenway, and I can tell you how many scales were in the basilisk's head they mounted in House Brassenthwaite, or what year the Argenti river was first dammed. But of current events, I know little.</i><</if>> "Do you know anything about the Bleakmoor Marsh that could help us?" you ask. <<c knowledgespirit>> tells you some facts about fauna and flora you may encounter, but not much beyond that. <<include "sophonax2">>

<<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="spirit">The Asag?</span><<else>><i>The Asag?</i><</if>> <<c knowledgespirit>> says, with a note of surprise. <<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="spirit">Those are quite rare, in comparison to other Tainted. Quite stupid, too. Their minds are small and beastly, though they retain some ability to strategize and cooperate with each other.</span><<else>><i>Those are quite rare, in comparison to other Tainted. Quite stupid, too. Their minds are small and beastly, though they retain some ability to strategize and cooperate with each other.</i><</if>> "Could they orchestrate elaborate, individual murders?" Blade asks. <<c knowledgespirit>> spreads its clear wings again, almost a nonverbal shrug. <<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="spirit">I wouldn't believe so, unless their nature has changed in the hundreds of years since I last walked this plane. They do delight in confusing and tormenting their victims, but once the blood is in the water, they can't keep themselves from feeding. Like a pack of piranhas.</span><<else>><i>I wouldn't believe so, unless their nature has changed in the hundreds of years since I last walked this plane. They do delight in confusing and tormenting their victims, but once the blood is in the water, they can't keep themselves from feeding. Like a pack of piranhas.</i><</if>> "Is anything particularly effective against them? We know they're physically weak, but their numbers are fearsome." <<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="spirit">Really? I am surprised to hear that. I heard they could gather in hordes when faced with tempting prey, but it's rare that they remain together like that afterward.</span><<else>><i>Really? I am surprised to hear that. I heard they could gather in hordes when faced with tempting prey, but it's rare that they remain together like that afterward.</i><</if>> <<c knowledgespirit>> spreads its wings again. <<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="spirit">They fear fire. And it may behoove you to plug your ears with wax, or devise some system of communicating with each other nonverbally. Mage-speech—talking in your minds—is safe. So are hand-signs or flares. But do not rely on codes or special passwords; the Asag can guess such things in an instant, just from hearing your voice. I don't know how.</span><<else>><i>They fear fire. And it may behoove you to plug your ears with wax, or devise some system of communicating with each other nonverbally. Mage-speech—talking in your minds—is safe. So are hand-signs or flares. But do not rely on codes or special passwords; the Asag can guess such things in an instant, just from hearing your voice. I don't know how.</i><</if>> It pauses for a moment. <<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="spirit">Really, your greatest danger is being overwhelmed by their numbers or by being tricked by their voices. If you can avoid those things, you can minimize the risk.</span><<else>><i>Really, your greatest danger is being overwhelmed by their numbers or by being tricked by their voices. If you can avoid those things, you can minimize the risk.</i><</if>> <<include "sophonax2">>

<<c knowledgespirit>> stares at you archly, but doesn't deign to give your question an answer. <<include "sophonax2">>

Your head is aching slightly from the effort of holding the spirit in place, and it seems it has no more to offer, anyway. You make the gesture of dismissal, though not before carefully tossing your food into <<c knowledgespirit>>'s circle. It lowers its head to eat politely, almost delicately, before bowing and disappearing in a whirl of light and dust. You turn to the others, blinking hard against the strain of the summoning as you break your chalk circle with your thumb. "Well," you begin, "that was enlightening in some ways, at least. It makes sense that…" In the corner of the room, Mimir begins to stir. You stop talking abruptly, and you all turn to watch her. <<include "mimirwakesup">>

Chase frowns. "Won't she sense you doing that, though?" "Not if she's asleep," you state, glancing at her. "And she said it herself—she doesn't notice many things in the present. And I'm a deft hand at this by now. She will never know." "I don't know," Trouble says uneasily. "She ain't an enemy you're interrogating, or a spy you've got to rip information out of. It seems like a violation of her privacy." "Or maybe she'd want it," Chase proposes with a shrug. "If she can't recall much of her past, maybe she'd be happy that <i>someone</i> knows about it. It doesn't seem like she wants to hide anything—only that she can't focus enough to talk about it." You glance at Blade, the leader of the mission. His mouth tightens slightly, but he inclines his head. "I do not think whatever information she has is worth potentially alienating her," he says eventually. "But I trust your judgment and skill. If you think you should do it, I won't stop you. But if it were only me, I wouldn't see the <i>need</i> to do it. Only curiosity." Then you all glance at Red, who spreads his hands. "It is the most direct way of attaining information," he says after a moment. "You may never be able to learn that much about her just from talking, so as opportunities go, it seems like it's a valuable one: you may never get such a chance again. But… it's, ah, <i>impolite</i>, I think, even if she'll never notice. I wouldn't want you to do that to me." Do you still want to read Mimir's mind? <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Do it. She\'ll never know, and it won\'t harm her.' 'do7it'>><<setintelligence +5>><<setcourage +1>><<fair_plus "$compassionate" -10>><<fair_plus "$loyal" -10>><<if $trouble lt 70>><<settrouble -3>><</if>><<if $chase lt 70>><<setchase -3>><</if>><<if $chaseromanceflag lt 20>><<set $chaseromanceflag -= 1>><</if>><<fair_plus "$psionic" +10>><<setmagic +3>><<set $learnedmimirspast to true>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Don\'t do it. She deserves to keep her secrets.' 'whataboutmimir'>><<setcompassionate +5>><<setloyal +5>><<setblade +1>><<setred +1>><<settrouble +3>><<setintelligence -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

You concentrate, forming your consciousness into a sharp, precise needle, slipping it seamlessly and easily through the gray shroud surrounding Mimir's mind and senses. She's well and truly asleep, her thoughts all black and still with dreamless slumber—all the easier for you to thread through her memories without the noise of her conscious, waking senses and impressions to distract you. Like a knife slipping between someone's ribs, you delicately pierce through the labyrinthine web of her past, and fall… <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "do7iti">><</link>></center>

<i>You are a foundling, born on a mountain on an island far from the shores of Blest. Mimir does not know the name of it, so neither do you.</i> <i>The island is mostly cold and desolate, plucked by icy winds and rocked by frequent storms. Most of its landscape, and the lonely mountain that watches over it, is gray and hard and scrubby, pitted through with naturally-formed cave systems. The days are often dull and overcast, though the nights are clear, revealing a multitude of strange stars.</i> <i>You are raised by a tribe called the Yendri. You know that much. The Yendri live in one of the only green places on the entire island, at the bottom of a small valley split by a river and edged on all sides by rocky steppes, with the Lonely Mountain towering over all. The Yendri's skin is gray and ashy, and they wear horns and pale-gleaming antlers wound through with white moss on their heads, their faces painted with paste mixed from the bones of giant skeletons sometimes found in the steppes. And yet, despite their fearsome appearance, they are a gentle folk. Superstitious, but peaceful and loving. They dwell in the low meadows in the shadow of the mountain, singing many songs and fishing in the river and dancing under the light of the moon.</i> <i>One of them finds you, as an infant, minutes old, sleeping within the petals of a giant lily at the foot of the mountain. The man's name is Engrattur. You know that much. He brings you back to his people, and they call you Mimir, which in their tongue means 'the light of the moon reflected on the water,' because your eyes are silver and they have no word for glass.</i> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "do7itii">><</link>></center>

<i>The Yendri raise you, and if you hardly speak, they do not mind, for you are a foundling, and who knows who or what your parents were. Some of the Yendri think that you must be a demon, for demons walk in the high mountains, sometimes, and they will come down to a Yendri hunter or gardener and lay with them once in a while; but you are not shunned for this idea. To the Yendri, demons are as migratory and commonplace as the birds in the sky.</i> <i>When you do utter your first words, it is to ask Engrattur about your sisters. He shakes his head: you have no sisters, he tells you. You were found in a lily, and that lily produced no others.</i> <i>He is wrong, you know, but you have no way of telling him how you know this, and the Yendri teach deference to their fathers. You ask the women whom Engrattur courts, from time to time, about your sisters, but they only laugh and pet your head, and tell Engrattur he must hurry and give you siblings to play with. But he only shakes his head, for the village has many babies, but the fish caught in reed baskets in the river are all swimming away.</i> <i>One day you tell Engrattur that danger is coming. For a long time you thought that you had many fathers, three or four of them, wandering through the hut or weaving baskets and nets or lounging in the green with a pipe, all of them very similar in form—though only one ever looked at you directly. It is not until later that you realize that there is only one Engrattur; that your eyes have been fooling you; that the one who speaks to you and smiles at you and lifts the broth to your lips is your only father, and the other ones are simply… echoes, like the ripples formed after a stone is dropped into the pond.</i> <i>He does not understand your warning. You tell him of the black riders who will come down the Lonely Mountain, riding on the backs of beasts you can't name, but he laughs and tells you that it was all a dream. No one has ever come down from the other side of the mountain before, except the demons, who have no reason to ride on beasts. The air is too thin and cold up there, he explains.</i> <i>What about the other side of the mountain? you ask him</i>. <i>That's the edge of the world, Engrattur tells you. There is nothing on the other side but sky, which is why only birds and demons ever appear there.</i> <i>This cannot be true, you know, for your sisters are somewhere out there—they are not here in the valley, for you have searched high and low—and so the world beyond the mountain cannot only be sky. You tell your father again that the riders are coming; that if you hide in the tall reeds by the river, most of the Yendri won't die. But after the third time of telling him this, Engrattur looks impatient, or perhaps a little frightened, and he tells you to be silent and to speak of the riders no more.</i> <i>So you don't.</i> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "do7itiii">><</link>></center>

<i>When the riders come, they come riding on the backs of stormclouds, creatures with gray coats and striking feet like thunder. The riders don't look like humans or demons: they wear shiny black shells, like the wings of beetles, and have great black horns on their heads. They scream and whirl strange objects through the air, things that look like clutches of vines, which also scream as they fly at the Yendri. The vines wrap themselves around people's feet and tangle them, making them fall. The riders capture most of the adults this way, and then they drag them into carts and cages and put thick black necklaces around their throats.</i> <i>Some of the adults fight back, though, beating at the riders with their feet and hands. Engrattur is one of them. You see him struggling, crying out as one of the riders drags you away… and then one of them kicks him in the head, and all of the echoes of your father go dark, vanishing like stars during a sudden storm.</i> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "do7itiv">><</link>></center>

<i>Things become a blur, after that. The echoes increase, a multitude of pale ghosts that swarm around you like white butterflies. They crowd your vision, so that you can barely see more than a foot in front of you. Dozens upon dozens of voices and threads and folds of time press in on you: you see men digging, weeping, lying dead, women kissing lovers who are not there and hiding stale flat bread in their clothes to sneak to the children. You think the riders take your people under the mountain, through a path they carved and chiseled themselves. But you can't say for sure. Perhaps they will dig that path five, ten, twenty years from now. Perhaps your people will be the ones who dig it for them.</i> <i>You only remember being somewhere without sun. One of Engrattur's old lovers, Seni, watches over you and makes sure that you're fed. It is hard to see the food, even when it is right in front of you: and sometimes even then, you forget.</i> <i>One night, you tell Seni as you lie tucked under her blanket that the riders have a big… something, the Yendri don't have a word for it, but later you will understand that it is a boat. And that one of the guards will fall asleep during his shift that night, and if Seni tells Lendreth and the other men, they can kill him and take his keys and lead everyone out to the thing on the big water, and they can leave the island and sail out to the rest of the world, which is not sky, and the riders will never find them then.</i> <i>You don't remember if she listens to you. But she must, because when you look around again, and the press of the ghosts has eased a little, you are on the boat, and the sun is touching your face for the first time in a long time. And there are many people around you, and they are weeping and kissing your hands, and they are asking you what you should do next.</i> <i>You look out at the big water, and you see the echo of land in the south, the vision of yourselves landing there. So you go south. </i> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "do7itv">><</link>></center>

<i>Time moves forward in skips and eddies, like a dragonfly skimming over the surface of a pond. Senni dies of a wasting sickness. You land somewhere very gray and hot. There is a dead mountain in the distance, and you tell the Yendri not to go there. When you wake up again, you are in a blazing city, filled with smoke and spices and a foreign, metallic kind of tongue. You stay there for a while. One by one, the ghosts of the Yendri fade around you. You think there are flashes, impressions of an orphanage. Throughout your childhood, you change hands, passing from guardian to guardian, kind souls who feel the urge to protect this strange, unknowable slip of a girl, who hardly responds to their questions and stares with her impossible silver eyes. You try to repay them for their kindness by telling them things: things about their futures, things that will help them be happy. Some are unnerved by this, and ultimately pass you on to the next kind soul. A few abandon you entirely. One makes a fortune having people come visit you in your house, so that you can tell them how to win their sweethearts or place good bets in the arenas or how to avoid early deaths. You eat very well in that house, and sleep on a fine mattress, but day by day, the echo of your guardian morphs and shifts, some days cast in sharp relief, other days as hazy and shapeless as a distant shadow. One day someone cuts his throat over a game of cards. So you leave his house and don't come back, for you know they will come for you next.</i> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "do7itvi">><</link>></center>

<i>Eventually you grow too old for others to pity you, to look at you and feel their hearts moved by the kind of love that drives people to protect innocent and helpless creatures. It is then that you decide to search for your sisters. You have been waiting for them to come find you, but they never have. So perhaps it is your destiny to seek them out instead. You drift out into the sea of ghosts, and some flickers of kindness draw you like beacons, and somehow food and shelter and all of the things you need to survive bob towards you like glass bottles on the tide. There are moments of clarity, but increasingly, your days are dimmed by the mists of things that have not come to pass. Solitude helps; so do veils and tents, thin barriers that can shield your senses from the visions. But day by day, the ghosts creep in. Shadows and light, future and present.</i> <i>You must find your sisters, something whispers to you, from within the depths of your heart. You must find them, and fulfill whatever purpose you have been given by the gods. Only then will you be whole.</i> <i>Only then will you be free.</i> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "do7itvii">><</link>></center>

When you open your eyes, Mimir is still soundly asleep, but it takes a long time to untangle yourself from her perspective, to come back into yourself and leave the confused memories of the Seer behind. You take several breaths, steadying yourself, feeling your own flesh and bone, stronger and warmer than Mimir's. You quell the sharp, aching sting in your heart. To the others, you say, "She's telling us the truth, or what she understands as truth, anyway." You tell them about what you saw, what fragments you could make sense of. Red makes a soft whistling sound. "I wonder where she came from. If she sailed south from her island to reach Blest—maybe Sarva or Vim? I know there are islands even north of those, though, and I think they often raid and war amongst each other. That's… what an incredible life she's led already." "And she can barely discern memory from vision," you answer grimly. "Did Seni even exist, or was she the phantom of some future? What happened to the other Yendri? It's hard to say. I see now why it's so hard for Mimir to give us anything really clear-cut or useful about our own futures. Her own life is… indiscernible." You stop talking abruptly just as Mimir begins to stir. <<include "mimirwakesup">>

Chase cocks his head. "Isn't that an invasion of privacy?" "I hate to break it to you, but someone could be scrying <i>you</i> every second of the day," you inform him. "Except when you're in the Shepherds' compound or certain protected buildings like the Sun Court, that is. Other than that, history's free. And she's supposedly looking at our futures without our permission." "Yeah, but she <i>has</i> to," Trouble points out. "She doesn't have a choice." "It's all semantics," Blade cuts in irritably. "And from what I know of conventional divining, it's not as if <<nobr>><<if $blade gte 70>> <<c firstname>> <<else>> <<c surname>> <</if>><</nobr>> will be peering at every detail of her past: it will be flashes, impressions only." "Exactly." Divining is a fickle thing—like bird-watching. Sometimes you get a really clear picture, and many times you only see a burst of color, the flit and flicker of movement, or you don't see anything at all. "Well, if you're going to do it, you might as well try it now," Red says, glancing at Mimir's sleeping form uneasily. But when you close your eyes and try to fall into that usual trance, you find that Mimir is surrounded by… some sort of invisible field, a great big fogbank of staticky <i>nothing</i>. It's an entirely odd sensation, like going to shake someone's hand and feeling your own pass right through them. A complete lack of… presence. No matter how hard you try, you can't divine anything about her. It's as if she has no past at all. "Huh," you say, opening your eyes again. "It feels like… she's naturally immune to being divined. Invisible to the magical and psionic senses. I've never encountered anything like that before." "Maybe that's why she can't find her sisters?" Red offers, rubbing his chin. "If they're like her, maybe that's why they can't find each other—they project some sort of natural forcefield that deflects divination." "I wonder if that forcefield applies to those around her?" Blade asks, ever practical-minded. "Seems damned useful if you have enemies," Trouble comments, "damned un-useful if your sole purpose in life is to find or be found by certain people who need to be tracked down." "Well, that plan's shot," Chase sighs, sitting back against his pack and punching it into a more comfortable shape. "And we still haven't learned much—about Mimir, about the <i>kithma</i>, or even anything about Wallmire. What now?" <<include "whataboutmimir">>

The Seer sits up, opens her eyes, and stares straight at you. "I know what you need to do," she intones. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "mimirwakesupi">><</link>></center>

"There is a house, a mile east of Wallmire," she tells you, suddenly purposeful and urgent. She speaks rapidly, as if she's afraid she'll forget what she's saying if she doesn't say it fast enough. "If you go there, you will find… something, something important that will help you understand these killings." "You can't tell us any more than that?" Blade asks. Mimir closes her eyes, her brow knitting in concentration. "No," she begins slowly. "But you <i>must</i> go. Before you return to the village. The Asag are all gone now; they won't give you any trouble." "That's what I was afraid of," Blade says, looking grim. "If a horde that size descended on Wallmire, the villagers would be devoured with almost no resistance. If the Asag have given up their pursuit on us, I worry that they'll turn their sights on the town: far more helpless prey." "I'd think that, if they were intending to do that, they would have overrun the villagers long before we arrived," Chase points out. "Something must be keeping them out of the village." "Well, something is also creeping <i>into</i> the village and terrorizing it," Red says. "So I wouldn't assume it's all that safe." "Precisely why I want to hurry back and check on it," Blade replies. "We've been gone long enough. By the time we leave here, it will be afternoon—and by the time we make it back to Wallmire, dusk at best. I fear whatever threat we were sent to deal with will creep back into town with the darkness, and we won't be there to beat it back. We've already been delayed too long." "But Mimir's saying we need to go to that house, first," Trouble says, glancing uneasily at the Seer. Blade frowns. "I don't wish to insult you," he tells Mimir bluntly, "but I don't know you, and I can't base my strategies on your word alone. Can you give assurances that Wallmire will be safe if we make your detour?" Mimir shakes her head. "None." "Can you tell me if the Asag or any other force is attacking them now, or will in our absence tonight?" Again she shakes her head. "I cannot see that, but it doesn't mean it won't come to pass—only that I can't perceive it." Blade grunts, but Red presses, "But you want us to go to the house <i>before</i> we return to the village? It's important?" Mimir looks at him, confused. "What house?" she asks. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "mimirwakesupii">><</link>></center>

In the end, you pack your things hurriedly and prepare to make your quick exit from the temple. Mimir will be safe enough, sealed away in her upper sanctum and protected from outside enemies or animals. Although she has a stockpile of meager supplies left by the Wallmirans, you leave her one of your water canteens and all of the remaining food you have on hand. "We'll check that the Asag are truly gone," Blade says, buckling his sword against his side, "and then we'll make for the direction of Wallmire at full-speed. We can decide whether we want to press on to the house or head straight back to the village on the way." To Mimir he says, "I'd ask to take you with us, but we need to make haste, and I suspect you're not a hasty traveler." "No," Mimir agrees, "and anyway, I need to stay here and learn more about the temple. I wouldn't go with you to Wallmire, anyway. It's only happened once, I think." He raises his eyes briefly to the heavens, but says in a courteous enough voice, "Then stay here, and seal the exits behind us. We'll return for you shortly. You shouldn't be out here alone." "I am never alone," Mimir returns serenely. Blade makes an unimpressed grunt and turns away. Trouble touches Mimir briefly on the shoulder as he passes, Chase gives her a cheerful thanks for her hospitality, Red gives her a polite nod and a murmured, "Take care of yourself." But she hardly acknowledges any of them: her eyes are now fixed on you. "<<c firstname>>," she says abruptly, startling you. "When you're done with Wallmire. You must come back." <<nobr>><<if $compassionate gte 60>> You can't imagine leaving this poor Mage all alone in this ruined temple. You turn back to her and gentle your voice. "Of course we'll come back for you, Mimir." <<else>> You can't imagine leaving this intriguing enigma behind: her skills could be useful, if you can learn to understand them. "Of course we'll come back, Mimir." <</if>><</nobr>> Her face is very grave. "You must," she repeats. "But only when you're done." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "mimirwakesupiii">><</link>></center>

Outside, the rain has stopped, the air heavy and muggy with wet, the steps of the temple inky and slippery as an oil-slick. A few minutes of running tells you that the Asag truly are gone, almost as if they've dissipated into the air like the rain itself… but that leaves the unnerving question of where they've disappeared to. "I have a bad feeling in my gut," Trouble mutters. "After what we saw of the Asag today, that village feels mighty defenseless." "They've made it this long without us," Chase reminds the sniper, loping easily alongside him. Trouble scowls. "If you can say even that. Half of their people are dead. I don't want to come back to—more." "We can make it back before nightfall," Blade says. "I think they'll be safe until then. After that—I don't know. But we won't make it in time if we go to that house." "I think we should go," Red says then. "I think there's truth to what Mimir's saying—I don't think we should ignore her." "I don't know if she's a real—prophetess, or what have you," Chase adds. "I'm skeptical that she's actually seeing what she thinks she's seeing. But if there's any semblance of a lead, I have to admit I'm loath to ignore it." "But she forgot about it right afterward," Trouble points out. "And surely it will still be there in the morning? Keeping Wallmire safe seems to be more important than solving the mystery, at least for tonight." "Unless they're one and the same?" says Red. Blade glances sidelong at you, the branches and vines whipping at your face as you run. "<<c firstname>>?" he asks in a low voice. "What do you think?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I hate to say it, but I think Mimir\'s unreliable. I don\'t think we should listen to her. We\'ll always regret it if something catastrophic happens because we took her advice."' 'i7hate'>><<setmimir -10>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"We need to head back to the village. The safety of the villagers takes priority. We don\'t know what will happen if we\'re not there."' 'we7need'>><<setmimir -5>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"We need to head to the house. The village will be fine for an extra hour or so. What if we uncover something vital?"' 'head7house'>><<set $thurlshouse to true>><<setmimir +5>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I trust Mimir. I won\'t be foolish enough to disregard one of her prophecies. There must be a reason why she stressed going to the house first."' 'i7trust'>><<set $thurlshouse to true>><<fair_plus "$mimir" +10>><</link>></li> </ul>

Blade nods curtly. "Well said. We'll go straight on to Wallmire, then. Perhaps we can investigate the house in the morning." <<include "thurl7shouse">>

Blade nods curtly. "We'll go straight on to Wallmire, then. Perhaps we can investigate the house in the morning." <<include "thurl7shouse">>

Blade runs in silence for one long moment; then he gives a curt nod. "Fine. I trust your instincts; we'll go to the house. But let's move as quick as we can. Like Trouble, I have a bad feeling." <<include "thurl7shouse">>

<<nobr>> <<set $methodofthurl to "", $totherescue to "", $thurlfail to false>> <<if $thurlshouse is true>> <<include "thurlshouse">> <<else>> <<include "ending7i5">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "thurlshousei">><</link>></center>

The journey back in the direction of Wallmire is thankfully uneventful. The sky overhead is still brooding and heavy with clouds, but at least you don't have to be pelted by more rain. After consulting Blade's map, you determine that there can only be one or two pathways heading east from Wallmire that could conceal a lone, unprotected house. You pick the one that would be the easiest for the locals to traverse back and forth, since the occupants of the house would still need to barter and trade with their neighbors, and this path eventually leads you to the foot of a ramshackle, half-rotting wooden stairway built into the side of a rain-slick hill: the path ahead is covered by overgrown, sagging vines and waterlogged branches that form a kind of large tunnel out of the undergrowth, folding the stairway in deep shadow. Because of the thick canopy overhead, you can't see what lies at the top of the hill, but something about standing at its base and watching the trees shiver around the stairway gives you a clenched feeling of unease. Trouble whistles softly for your attention and kicks at something on the ground. You glance over to find him nudging a shattered wooden post with the toe of his boot. Red looks over as well. "Some kind of sign?" he asks. "Too old and rotted to read, looks like." Trouble nods. "And I think something like a mailbox, as well," he says, his voice thoughtful. "Or something where people could drop off goods, anyway, where animals couldn't get to them." "But why not just deliver them directly to whoever lived here?" Chase asks. "Can't be that much farther of a walk." "Maybe people didn't want to see them directly," you suggest. "Like patients in quarantine. They did the same for Mimir, dropping off food without interacting with her much, too." "But these people <i>live</i> here," Trouble says. "They're not strangers to the Wallmirans like she is." Blade is looking down at the broken sign post with a grim expression on his face. "Maybe not," he says slowly. "But whoever they were, I don't believe anyone has lived here in a long time." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "thurlshouseii">><</link>></center>

The five of you make the trek up the hill just as a cold, howling wind begins to kick up, plucking at your wet cloaks with greedy fingers: the shadows of the day are growing longer and longer, cool blue twilight fast approaching. At the top of the hill you find… a house, just as Mimir said, small and humble and built in the same style as the ones in Wallmire, but also practically collapsed in on itself, much of the wood on the right side singed and blackened by fire. "Damn," Chase says softly, tilting his head back to regard the ravaged home, its outer walls speckled and practically swallowed by lichen, mold, and vines. "What happened here?" Red crouches to look at the patches of tall white fungi sprouting up at the base of the house while Blade circles its perimeter, doing a perfunctory sweep for a trap or hidden enemies: it takes him less than a minute, since it's clear the place is completely abandoned. Still, the blackness beyond the lone open window seems as substantive and impenetrable as a solid wall. For whatever reason, you're not looking forward to going inside. <<nobr>><<if $specialization is "elementalist">> You kneel to place your hand on the plants growing on the house's exterior: a quick probe of your Elemental magic tells you that they've been growing here for about thirty years, give or take. The dead wood used to build the house was cut perhaps ten years prior to that. So the people who lived here only did so for about a decade before they abandoned the place to the swamp. <br><br> You check the burn marks on the right side of the house as well, your astral senses tingling with knowledge as you tap into the primal forces of fire and earth. You taste pitch and oil and tar, faded and barely perceptible beneath the thicker energies of vigorous natural growth, as well as the acrid taste of flint and steel. <br><br> Man-made. Someone started this fire on purpose. <br><br> The others frown when you tell them all of this. <<elseif $specialization is "wild">> You wander a little ways away while the others examine the exterior of the house, clearly just as eager not to enter for the moment. You catch a flicker of movement and life just on the edges of your magical senses and expand them outward in a surge of awareness. You hone in on the darting, red sensation just a hundred yards away from you: a small fox, ragged-looking and mangy, but peering out of its den in the ground with eyes bright with intelligence and alertness. <br><br> You crouch and open your mind up to the busy trickle of thought emanating from the animal. He's a young bachelor, not more than a year old, so you're not sure how much he can tell you about what happened to this old house—but at least he seems willing to talk to you, which is more than you can say for many of the other swamp creatures living here. He doesn't approach when you stretch out your hand in greeting, but is happy to gnaw at a scrap of jerky you dig from your pack, signaling receptiveness and trust. <br><br> <i>Greetings, red friend</i>, you tell him, crouching as you watch him eat. <br><br> The young fox tears greedily at your jerky with his teeth. <i>Hail, bright friend</i>, he replies. <i>Have you come to live in that old den?</i> <br><br> You shake your head. <i>We're only looking for the people who used to live there.</i> <br><br> The fox eyes you sidelong. <i>That den is abandoned. Can't you tell? No one's lived there since my mother was a kit, and her mother before her.</i> <br><br> No chance that he would know what happened to the original occupants, then. Still, you have to ask. <i>Did they know what happened to those people?</i> <br><br> <i>If they did, they never told me</i>, he says doubtfully. <i>I don't think so, though. Vixens love to gossip, so they would have said something if they knew.</i> <br><br> <i>Does anyone ever come to visit the place nowadays? Anyone who looks like me?</i> <br><br> The fox sits and scratches vigorously at his ear with his hind leg, thinking about it. Animal memories and perceptions of time can be disjointed, at best. <i>My mother told me that sometimes the green folk come</i>, he says finally. <i>The ones from the big skulk down the way, the ones who catch fish on the water. I've never seen them here, but she said they came one winter and took something dead out of the ground.</i> He looks at you alertly. <i>Do you have any more food?</i> <br><br> That's about all you can get out of him, and shortly after, the fox vanishes underground and seems to ready himself for a nap before he goes out for his evening hunt. You return to the others, who frown as you relay this piecemeal information. <<else>> "Looks like it's been a few decades since this place was abandoned," Red remarks. "But why? The fire didn't damage much: the wood was probably too damp for it to spread properly. And I doubt it was enough to kill the original occupants. They could have rebuilt—so why didn't they?" <</if>><</nobr>> "What does it all mean?" you wonder, standing back to survey the place. "And what does it have to do with the murders in Wallmire?" Trouble sighs and moves towards the crooked front door, practically hanging off its hinges: one good kick of his boot sends it crashing to the ground. "Only one way to find out, I suppose." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "thurlshouseiii">><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<if settings.music is true>><<audio "thurlshouse" volume 0 fadeoverto 5 0.1>><</if>><</nobr>>You step through the doorway of the ruined house and find yourself transported to another world. Everything here has been left untouched, perfectly preserved in its abrupt state of abandonment. Not a single decoration has been removed, not a stick of furniture has been taken. There are still the remains of a half-eaten meal—greasy rot and dust lying in bowls now—placed on the dining table, set enough for three. Logs of firewood, sprouted through with mushrooms and moss, sit perfectly stacked in the corner by the tiny hearth. There are a few humble shelves with black-flecked clay dishes and a beetle-chewed woven rug on the floor. Two cramped bedrooms lie off to the side of the main living room, one with a bed for two adults and one only large enough to fit a small child. Parents and their offspring, you have to assume. They didn't take a thing with them, wherever they went. Blade is peering at jumbled footprints in the thick dust on the ground. "Someone has been here before us," he says quietly. "Recently, but that's relative. A few months ago." "Didn't the attacks on Wallmire begin a few months ago?" Red asks. Chase makes a humming sound as he strolls into the other bedroom. "Curiouser and curiouser." "Let's look around," you suggest, heading for the shelf of dishware by the far wall. "There has to be a reason why Mimir told us to come here." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "thurlshouseiv">><</link>></center>

You search every nook and cranny of that house, but there is little you can glean from it after decades of abandonment. The people who resided here lived an extremely humble existence, presumably hunting or fishing for their food and hand-crafting everything else themselves. They had to have had contact with the people of Wallmire—the similar construction of the house and its proximity to town is proof enough—but why they elected to live so far from the community's epicenter, it's not immediately clear. You find your first clue when you discover a chest of books locked away underneath the adults' bed, covered by such a thick blanket of dust that it almost looks like a snow-covered log at first. It's as simple as a thought to have the lock spring open beneath your touch… but what lies inside presents a more complex picture. Spellbooks. Written in Magid. <<nobr>><<if ($magic gte 50 and $intelligence gte 60) and $arcane gte 10>> "Someone who lived here was a Mage," you say, leafing through the books. "Probably hoarded spellbooks and saved them from burnings when they could. Possibly an Enchanter, or maybe a Conjurer or a Wild Mage, if this collection isn't entirely random." <<else>> "Red?" <br><br> At your call, the Mage hurries over to examine the books, flipping through them gingerly as his eyes scan the old Mage script within them. "Whoever lived here was almost certainly a Mage," he affirms after a moment, holding the books up to the dim, fading light. "Probably hoarded spellbooks and saved them from burnings when they could. Possibly an Enchanter, or maybe a Conjurer or a Wild Mage, if this collection isn't entirely random." <</if>><</nobr>> "A Mage, this far into the Bleakmoor?" Trouble asks. "What are the chances of that?" "It would be a good place to hide from the Autarchy," Red points out, looking around as if to gaze at the bedroom with fresh eyes. "If you were the sort to secretly collect spellbooks, you might be the sort to choose a life of seclusion, far away from where any Inquisitors would ever stumble across you." Blade makes a thoughtful clicking sound with his tongue. "That could be why this house is so far away from the others," he says. "The Wallmirans are a closed community: they probably wouldn't have allowed a Mage outsider to live among them." "But they still tolerated them enough to allow them to live a mile away," Chase comments, slipping his hands into his pockets. "That's pretty much <i>as good as</i> living among them. But maybe they were forced to compromise—who were the others living with the Mage? Were they magic-blooded, too? Or could the Mage have married a Wallmiran and had a child, forcing the townsfolk not to drive them off?" "That could be," Red says, his enthusiasm growing. "Let's check around and see if there's something like a travel journal, a diary, anything like that." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "thurlshousev">><</link>></center>

Your continued search doesn't turn up anything so useful, but you do find an inscription in one of the books tucked into the room's simple bedside table: not a spellbook, but what seems to be an old, moth-eaten romance novel, with a message on the first page scribbled in scratchy, clumsy ink. You'd guess the scrawling was done by a man's hand. <i>To my love, who's shown me the world. - Lyden</i> "Lyden," Trouble reads aloud from over your shoulder. "Man's name. Are we supposing that's the name of our Mage?" "No real way to tell," you answer, rifling through the book's pages, "but if Wallmire is truly cut off from the outside world, and we know the Mage must have come from outside the community, it's safe to say this novel must have been brought by them as well. The book was printed in Sacor, so it couldn't have been a gift from someone who was raised here." "So let's assume the Mage was Lyden," Chase says, glancing around at the room with its neatly-made bed. "He came along to Wallmire and brought forbidden spellbooks and romance novels from the outside world with him. Settled down and apparently had a family here. But where is he now? What happened to them all?" You glance at the undisturbed chest, the small house's untouched belongings. "I don't know. But it doesn't seem like it's anything good." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "thurlshousevi">><</link>></center>

The last room in the house, the child's room, turns up little of value: again, the place feels perfectly preserved and frozen in time, apparently deserted at a moment's notice and without a pause to bring along a pillow or a humble toy. There are a few drawings done with charcoal lying on the floor, but the paper is so disintegrated and dirty that you can't make anything out. There's nothing to give away the child's age or real personality, aside from a few crude dolls woven together out of twine and twigs. The wind howls mournfully through a hole in the thatched ceiling. <<nobr>><<if ($specialization is "diviner" and $psionic gte 50) or $psionic gte 75>> <<include "berendalspendant">> <<else>> After a few more minutes of searching, you have to accept that you've gleaned all that you can from this house. <br><br> <<include "houseregroup">> <</if>><</nobr>>

You attempt to conduct a Divination on each room in the house, but any connection you reach for is warbly and faint, amounting to nothing but a vague sense of uneasy domesticity. The more time that passes, the more ambient energies and auras fade, making it near-impossible to tap into decipherable visions of the distant past. After a certain point, only objects or places holding extremely powerful emotions, memories, or other such forces can be Divined—and this house unfortunately holds none strong enough to persist through thirty years. "All I can tell is that they were relatively happy when they lived here," you hazard, concentrating hard through the blurred noise and press of time. "Two parents and a child. But the parents were always uneasy about something, watchful. I can't tell over what." The others nod, having expected this. "It's more than we knew before we came here," Blade says to you, giving you a gesture of approval. "It gives us somewhere to start, at least." But then some instinct plucks at you, tugging subtly for your attention. "Wait. I think there's something else outside." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "berendalspendanti">><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<romancecalc>><<friendshipcalc>><<if $highestromance is "blade">> Blade <<elseif $highestromance is "trouble">> Trouble <<elseif $highestromance is "red">> Red <<elseif $highestromance is "chase">> Chase <<elseif $highestfriendship is "blade">> Blade <<elseif $highestfriendship is "chase">> Chase <<elseif $highestfriendship is "red">> Red <<else>> Trouble <</if>><</nobr>> accompanies you as you make your way outside, keeping your eyes shut in order to let your mind parse through the melding layers of the present and the past, feeling for that whisper of something the way you might delicately follow the lead of a loose silk thread. You find what you were looking for just a few feet away from the front door, the others watching you curiously through the house's lone window as you kneel—still with your eyes closed—and dig your hand into several inches of mulch, wet leaves, and congealed mud. Your fingers close around something small and metallic, and when you pull your hand up, you find yourself holding an earth-caked dangling bauble—a broken necklace, its features so coated in grime that you can't make any details out. Wiping the necklace on the corner of your shirt only helps a little: you think it might be a brass pendant with a small ruby set in its center, strung on a leather thong with a few small animal bones or teeth surrounding it. You feel a sharp sting from the necklace, as if someone's pricked your brain with a needle. Before anyone can say anything, you close your fingers around the pendant, concentrate, and allow yourself to dive into the past. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "berendalspendantii">><</link>></center>

<i>They run her down into the marshes, roaring and brandishing spears as if they're hunting down a wild boar. Her features are indistinct, blurry, but you think she's middle-aged, thin and wan, dark-haired and sporting a bad limp. It only takes moments for her pursuers to catch up to her. Their cries of <i>"Witch!"</i> and <i>"She-demon!"</i> echo dimly in your ears as if your skull has been filled with water. </i> <i>They chase her down into the bog, cornering her when she twists her good ankle against a half-ridden rock and topples heavily into the shallows. The thick travel pack that sinks into the marshy depths belies her guilt: if she is truly innocent, why is she trying to escape? </i> <i>There is no pause for a discussion or a trial. It's too late for her. When she turns her eyes up to them, her expression devoid of fear and only tight and burning with resigned condemnation, their rage boils over in a mad screaming rush, and they take their clubs and spears and stick her like a pig.</i> <i>The last thing she says is: "You have damned yourselves." </i> <i>Then her body crumples into the mud, sinking slowly beneath the scummy surface of the marsh. Before her corpse disappears, a dark, frothing substance seems to swarm out of her body, floating upward like an oily cloud of smoke. It hovers for a moment, as if gazing down at the woman, before whirling and darting off into the trees. </i> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "berendalspendantiii">><</link>></center>

"Steady, <<c firstname>>. I'm here." You open your eyes to find <<nobr>><<if $highestromance is "blade">> Blade's <<elseif $highestromance is "trouble">> Trouble's <<elseif $highestromance is "red">> Red's <<elseif $highestromance is "chase">> Chase's <<elseif $highestfriendship is "blade">> Blade's <<elseif $highestfriendship is "chase">> Chase's <<elseif $highestfriendship is "red">> Red's <<else>> Trouble's <</if>><</nobr>> hand holding onto you as you sway slightly on your feet, momentarily disorientated by the cool evening air and the suddenness of finding yourself back in the heavy, churning vessel of your own body. After a few calming breaths, you manage to look around and orient yourself, nodding to your companion, who releases your elbow. Unclenching your muddy fingers, you stare down at the necklace and say, "I think they killed the woman who lived here." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "berendalspendantiv">><<set $berendalspendant to true>><<set $swampclue += 1>><</link>></center>

"Who is 'they'?" Chase asks you once you're back inside the house. Bizarrely, its eerie interior now feels safer than being outside, especially after what you just saw. You shake your head. "I couldn't tell for sure: I could really only make out the woman they were chasing, not the attackers themselves. I'm almost positive she was one of the adults who lived here. Most likely Lyden's wife, the one he gave the book to—though I didn't catch her name." You shake your head. "Whoever she was, it seemed like an entire mob was after her. They… <i>feared</i> her, for some reason. Kept calling her a demon and a witch." "Was she a Mage, too?" Red asks you. You make the gesture to indicate <i>servori</i>. "I have no idea. Things were happening too quickly for me to be able to focus on much. At first glance, I wouldn't think so—I didn't notice the <i>iladrin</i> or anything like that. But we all know that doesn't mean someone can't have magic." "Could she have been a demon?" Blade asks then. "Or demon-possessed?" You shake your head again. "I don't know. Whatever she was, <i>something</i> came out of her after she died. And I'm willing to bet that something has to do with whatever's going on in Wallmire now." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "houseregroup">><</link>></center>

"So let's recap what we know," Red says, rubbing his chin while his brow creases in thought. "We know that a Mage named Lyden lived here around with his 'love' and presumably their child. He was most likely an outsider to the community, which means the only reason he'd be allowed to stay permanently was if he married a local." "We know that at some point, something made them abandon this place at the drop of a hat," Trouble continues. "They could have been chased out, spooked, driven out by a fire… we don't know." <<nobr>> <<if $berendalspendant is true>> <br><br> "We know that his love, an unnamed woman, was killed by a mob for being some sort of witch or demon," you add. "Most likely that same mob showed up here and caused the family to try and escape, which explains the abrupt departure. It might even explain why so much of this house has been untouched: if the woman was killed over supernatural accusations, the locals might have been too superstitious to risk disturbing her things." <</if>> <<if $thirtyyearsago is true>> <br><br> "And we know that the last visitors in Wallmire came around thirty years ago," Chase finishes. "Which seems to be about the age of this house. We have to assume that Lyden <i>was</i> this place's visitor—and he wasn't exactly viewed in a positive light." <</if>><</nobr>> "But what does all of this have to do with the Wallmire of today?" Blade asks. <<nobr>><<if $kaidir is true and $faris is false>> "We can guess that the other Shepherd teams were ambushed by the Asag. But what about the Terror creeping into the town every night? The townspeople couldn't miss a horde of Tainted descending on them, and it's doubtful that the Asag are clever or patient enough to launch such a slow campaign against them, anyway. So who is actually murdering the townsfolk, and how are they related to this house?" <<elseif $kaidir is true and $faris is true>> "We know that the other Shepherd teams were almost certainly ambushed by the Asag. But what about the Terror creeping into the town every night? The townspeople couldn't miss a horde of Tainted descending on them, and it's doubtful that the Asag are clever or patient enough to launch such a slow campaign against them, anyway. So who is actually murdering the townsfolk, and how are they related to this house?" <<else>> "We know the Asag are a threat, but the townspeople couldn't miss a horde of Tainted descending on them every night—and it's doubtful that the Asag are clever or patient enough to launch such a slow campaign against them, anyway. So what is the Terror actually murdering the townsfolk, and how are they related to this house?" <</if>><</nobr>> <<nobr>><<if $berendalspendant is true>> "Could have something to do with that dark cloud that $firstname saw flying out of the woman's body," Chase proposes. "If she was really an Endarkened, or possessed by one, or maybe even a dark Mage… it could be some kind of curse, or whatever was possessing her has returned to wreak its vengeance." <br><br> "After thirty years, a curse seems unlikely to only start taking effect now," Red muses, "but I suppose a demon makes the most logical sense." <br><br> "Didn't the <i>heguman</i> say that the victims have all been elders over a certain age?" Blade interrupts then. "That would mean—" <br><br> "—they'd all be people who were alive during the time of the woman's murder," you breathe. "These deaths aren't random. They're <i>revenge-killings</i>." <br><br> "That would explain why the children of the town have been left alone," Trouble says with dawning realization, his voice almost awed. "Why Cyril and Surya were seemingly safe." <br><br> "But that could change," Blade says, putting a hand to his sword. "And in the meantime, it seems any adult in Wallmire could be the killer's next target." <br><br> You nod. "We need to head back and ask the people of the village what they know about this house… and who exactly it was they killed." <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "afterthurlshouse">><</link>></center> <<else>> "Could be that this Mage was driven out of his home, went mad, and is now exacting his revenge on the village," Chase says. "Or maybe they drove him out for a reason. Maybe he was dabbling in dark arts, consorting with demons. Maybe they were right to distrust him." <br><br> "You'd think they'd have said something by now, though," Trouble says, frowning. "I think it'd be fairly obvious that if you've done something to piss off the only Mage in the area, and then crazy supernatural shit starts happening to you, that'd be the first person you'd point the finger at." <br><br> "Unless there's something about this situation that they don't want us to know," you murmur. <br><br> "All we know is that a Mage used to live here, and now he doesn't," Red says with a sigh. "We don't know exactly <i>how</i> it all connects, but I've got a good feeling that it does. Now we just need to ask the people of Wallmire exactly what happened here. I have a feeling their reaction will tell us more." <br><br> Blade is frowning deeply. "I can't admit to being happy about the idea that we've been risking our lives for people who could be keeping secrets from us," he says, his voice gravelly and rough with disapproval. "It smacks of what happened with Moonsilk. If they've been withholding information…" <br><br> "There'd be Hael to pay," Trouble confirms. "But I still hope they're all right. It's getting dark out. I hope we don't come back and find another person's been killed while we were away." <br><br> You can't help the dark thought that simmers at the corner of your mind as you turn to file out the door, as unwanted and coiled as a snake: <i>But worse—what if we find out they deserved it?</i> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "afterthurlshouse">><</link>></center> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if settings.music is true>><<audio ":playing" fadeout>><</if>><</nobr>>When you return to Wallmire, you find a knot of townspeople gathered in the square in front of the <i>heguman's</i> house, their voices pitched in an haunting, melodic chorus of mourning. Your heart sinks as you approach the large pyre that's been built, the flames so tall that they almost lick the thatching of Saranae and Wren's roof. Most of the people in the crowd don't even look up as you shoulder through: some are crying silently as they sing, but many simply have their heads bowed and their eyes closed, as if they're too exhausted for tears. Blade wastes no time on niceties: he makes a beeline straight for Wren and Saranae, who are standing near the pyre, holding hands as they watch a small body wrapped in linens being slowly consumed by the flames. "What happened?" he demands. "Another attack?" Saranae shakes her head, wiping at the obvious track marks her tears have left on her face. "Passed away in her sleep," she says miserably. "She was—she was old, she didn't have any family left. It was… a good time for her to go. But…" She shakes her head wonderingly. "She was our last elder. Now we have no one left of the older generation to guide us." Blade casts you a very significant sidelong look. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Nod. You need answers now.' 'nodyou7need'>><<setcompassionate -1>><<setcourage +1>><<set $wallmire -= 5>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Shake your head. This isn\'t the place or time: they need a moment to grieve.' 'shakeyour7head'>><<setcharisma +1>><<setcompassionate +1>><<set $wallmire += 5>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Shrug. This is his call, not yours.' 'shrugthis7is'>><<setloyal -1>><<set $wallmire -= 3>><</link>></li> </ul>

Blade's expression tightens, but he seems to agree with you, because he says tersely, "We need to talk." Saranae looks at him with a hint of sharp surprise, then, after a moment, glances at Wren. Xe nods and says, "I'll make sure everyone gets home safely," so Saranae wipes her tears away and follows you into the house. <<include "afterthurlshousei">>

Blade's expression tightens, but he seems to agree with you, because he only says tersely, "Comfort your people, then meet us inside when you're able. We have things to discuss." Saranae looks back and forth between your faces, but nods slowly. "We will. First, we need to make sure everyone gets home safely; then I'll join you inside." <<include "afterthurlshousei">>

Blade's expression tightens, but he turns to Saranae and says tersely, "We need to talk." Saranae looks at him with a hint of sharp surprise, then, after a moment, glances at Wren. Xe nods and says, "I'll make sure everyone gets home safely," so Saranae wipes her tears away and follows you into the house. <<include "afterthurlshousei">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "afterthurlshouseii">><</link>></center>

"Where are the kids?" Trouble asks immediately as you all take a seat at the dining room table. "They're helping with the funeral arrangements," Saranae answers, looping her long hair behind her ears. "There will be an offering of food to the spirit of the deceased at her home: Wren's brother's family is preparing the meal, and Cyril and Surya are helping them. After what happened yesterday, we've asked our kin to keep a close eye on them from now on…" She shakes her head. "Wren will take them back after supper." He nods, and the silence that falls then is heavy with expectation and apprehension. From outside, you can still hear the hot, sullen roar of the funeral pyre, the crackling of greenwood and the quiet cries of the mourners in the square. After a long, drawn-out moment, Saranae looks around at you and says, "What is it?" Blade crosses his arms, staring at her with keen, cutting eyes. "Tell us about Lyden," he says. "And that house a mile east of here." The color drains from Saranae's face. "How—how did you—" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"That Mage visiting the ruins, Mimir? It turns out she\'s not so mad after all."' 'afterthurlshouseiii'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"It doesn\'t matter how we know. Just answer the question."' 'afterthurlshouseiii'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Take a breath and start from the beginning."' 'afterthurlshouseiii'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Saranae shakes her head wonderingly, apparently too stunned to speak for a moment. After a beat, she blinks rapidly and shakes herself a little, stammering: "I… I was only a child when Lyden came to town. I don't remember the exact details…" "Whatever you can tell us will be enough," Red says in a gentle voice. <<nobr>><<if $red gte 60>> From the way his long fingers drum against the table, though, you can tell he's actually itching for information. <</if>><</nobr>> Saranae takes another sharp breath and looks down at her hands in her lap, fidgeting and twisting her fingers together in silent agitation. After a few minutes of gathering her thoughts, she begins quietly, "It was so long ago. Thirty years, something like that. I was very young. I only remember my grandmother, the previous <i>heguman</i>, discussing it with my family: a man had stumbled into Wallmire. He was injured; he claimed he was a Mage being hunted by Inquisitors for stealing books. He begged us for sanctuary: he couldn't hope to outrun them with his injuries. There were many people who simply wanted to send him on his way. They didn't want the Inquisitors tracking him here and dragging the entire town into his mess. But others argued that it would be better to hide him. That if he were allowed to go off on his own, surely his captors would find him eventually, and what if he gave away our location then, or decided to throw blame our way in order to save his own skin?" "They didn't think to kill him and get rid of the problem preemptively?" Chase asks shrewdly. Saranae cuts a sharp look at him. "I suppose they did," she says in a chillier voice, "but his injuries weren't life-threatening on their own, and I don't think many people were comfortable with the idea of wholesale murder." <<nobr>><<if $berendalspendant is true>> You try not to glance at the others. <i>Interesting.</i> <<else>> You nod slowly. "Right." <</if>><</nobr>> "Eventually it was decided that he should be allowed to stay under close guard until his injuries were healed and the Inquisitors had stopped looking for him," Saranae continues. "Then he would be sent on his way. But…" "But a local fell in love with him?" Chase quips. "Perhaps the very person tasked to watch over him?" Saranae grimaces. "Yes. Berendal. I didn't know her well, but she had a reputation for being—obedient, very virtuous and steady. The very picture of propriety. It was why no one ever expected anything to go amiss with letting him stay with her… it just wasn't conceivable, that she could fall in love with someone from outside of the community. But she… changed after she met him. And before anyone could put a stop to it, they were married." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"It sounds like a plot out of a romance novel."' 'itsounds7like'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"It seems a bit naive, thinking a sheltered young adult <i>wouldn\'t</i> fall in love with the glamorous outsider she was tasked to heal and care for..."' 'itseems7a'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'m betting the village wasn\'t very happy about that."' 'imbetting7the'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Saranae laughs a little, the sound humorless and a little sarcastic. "I wouldn't know," she says. "I know it's hard to understand, but the way our culture is… the way our community works… it just wasn't even in the realm of possibility. We couldn't even conceive of it happening until it did. You wouldn't understand unless you were born here. Outsiders are… anathema to us. As incompatible as oil to water. We never imagined that she could even see him that way." <<nobr>><<if $chasesex is true or $chaseromanceflag gte 20>> <br><br> "The forbidden fruit often tastes the sweetest," Chase murmurs. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "afterthurlshouseiv">>

Saranae gives you a pursed, disapproving glance. "I know it's hard to imagine, but our culture and community simply doesn't work that way. It just wasn't even in the realm of possibility: we couldn't conceive of it happening until it did. You wouldn't understand unless you were born here. Outsiders are… anathema to us. It would be like giving Berendal a pet bird to nurse back to health and having to suspect that she might fall in love with it. It came as a total shock to everyone when she did." <<include "afterthurlshouseiv">>

"Oh, they were furious," Saranae says grimly. "But what could they do? Berendal was once the village darling, and they couldn't cast her out. They either had to grudgingly accept her new husband and allow them both to stay, or send them on their way, and the latter option was out of the question." <<include "afterthurlshouseiv">>

She shakes her head. "They lived in that house you saw for a few years, never quite a part of the community, but not so far away that they were in total exile. Eventually, they had a child. Thurl. It was around that time that…" She sucks in a breath, then clenches her hand against her knee, so hard that you're sure she must be close to drawing blood with her own nails. "That we began to notice <i>changes</i>." "What kind of changes?" Blade asks ruthlessly. Saranae looks away. "To cut a long story short," she says, "Lyden wasn't just some innocent Mage. He… he came to us in that guise, but… when he got comfortable, when he was settled in, he began to show more of his true face." She closes her eyes. "He was practicing dark arts; he probably used them to seduce Berendal in the first place. And then… when they had Thurl…" She takes another shaky breath; the room is now so silent that you could hear a pin drop. "I was only a girl," Saranae repeats again. "So I don't know if Berendal was a vessel for whatever demonspawn Lyden summoned into her, or if Thurl himself was, and Lyden used their infant son as a host for a demonic soul. Either way, when the boy was old enough to speak, it became clear that he… that he wasn't right. He wasn't natural. He was… <i>tainted</i>." Trouble folds his gloved hands in front of his face, obscuring his mouth as his elbows rest on the scarred table: his expression, usually so open and honest, looks completely unreadable to you now. "And what happened next?" Saranae blows out a breath. "Eventually there was a confrontation," she says. "The <i>auspex</i> and the <i>heguman</i> and a few other town officials leveled their accusations. Lyden all but admitted to his crimes… but Berendal stood by him, defended his every action. She was brainwashed, enslaved to him. We couldn't persuade her to leave him or to take away the boy. At some point, the townspeople became too angry and frightened to tolerate their presence any longer. They went to go drive Lyden out, but things got out of hand, and…" "And they killed him," you finish flatly. "They put him to the torch." Saranae looks at you, her large olive-green eyes somber and full of regret. "Yes." "And Berendal and Thurl?" <<nobr>><<if $berendalspendant is true>> Red asks, though you already know the end of that story. <<else>> Red asks. <</if>><</nobr>> The <i>heguman's</i> fists tighten in her lap again. "Killed that night," she says softly. "Berendal, they chased down into the marsh and stabbed to death. The little boy Thurl drowned in a bog." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "afterthurlshousev">><</link>></center>

Silence reigns as you all process this for a moment. Finally Blade stirs and says, "Why didn't you tell us about all of this before?" Saranae casts him a fearful look. "It was thirty years ago," she says. "We didn't think it could be relevant. Everyone who lived in that house is long dead. It's not as if we were hiding it: we just never dreamed there was any connection." <<include "pushsaranae1">>

<ul class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("howdid7you")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"How did you know that Lyden was practicing dark arts?"</div>' 'howdid7you'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("whydid7the")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Why did the villagers kill Berendal, too?"</div>' 'whydid7the'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("whyhas7the")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Why has the house been left so untouched?"</div>' 'whyhas7the'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("areyou7sure")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Are you sure everybody in that house was killed? It\'s just strange that everyone being murdered now is anyone who would have been an adult at the time of Lyden\'s death."</div>' 'areyou7sure'>><<set $swampclue += 1>><<set $thurlsdeath to true>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("asaw7a")>><<if $berendalspendant is true>><<link '<div class="question-item">"I saw a vision of Berendal\'s death, and in the vision, I saw something rise out of her body and fly away."</div>' 'asaw7a'>><</link>><</if>><</if>> <li><<link 'You can\'t think of anything else to ask.' 'afterthurlshousevi'>><</link>></li> </ul>

None of the spellbooks you found indicated anything of that slant, though the more nefarious texts simply could have been hidden or destroyed. Saranae shakes her head. "As I said, I was only a girl then. But the elders recognized the signs. Surrounded as we are by Banshees and Tainted, we know more about demons than the average person." <<include "pushsaranae1">>

Saranae looks nauseated. "You would have to ask them," she says, sounding a little frustrated now, or perhaps distressed. "I wasn't there. But as I've been given to understand it, they believed her to be tainted by Lyden's wickedness, irrevocably so. She'd lain with him, defended him to the villagers, stood at his side when he was accused of evil arts—and she gave birth to Thurl, who was clearly demonic in nature. In their minds, it was too late for her, and she was just as dangerous and corrupted as her husband and son." <<include "pushsaranae1">>

The <i>heguman</i> shrugs. "No one wanted to take on the task of emptying it, fearing traps or whatever cursed magics might linger there. It's thought of as a taboo, evil place. Most of my people are very superstitious, and are therefore frightened of it. Someone tried to burn it down once, but when that failed, they've all been too scared to approach it since." "We saw that someone had been there before us, though," Chase interjects. "Not more than a few months ago." Saranae frowns, looking perturbed. "It wasn't one of my people. Maybe it was that Mage you met—the one staying in the ruins?" "But she only arrived a few days ago," Red points out. "Then I don't know. <i>Perhaps</i> it was one of the villagers… But it would surprise me greatly. No one can even pass those stairs without making the sign of protection." <<include "pushsaranae1">>

"You said the children of Wallmire have been safe from these killings," you point out. "That fact seems strange, given what we know. It would only make sense if the guilty parties involved in the mob were the ones being targeted in the present-day—not the innocent generations who came afterward, who have generally been left untouched." Saranae frowns, looking taken aback by this. "But… no, that's impossible," she says, a deep furrow appearing between her brows. "Everyone from that household <i>is</i> dead. Lyden, they dismembered and buried near the house that night… then some years later, they took the body out of the ground again and burned it, fearing that even the remains would hold some noxious curse. Berendal, they gave a Wallmiran funeral pyre: I saw her body burn myself. And Thurl…" She trails off. "Well, he drowned. Multiple people saw it. A dozen, even." "Was his body ever recovered?" Blade asks. She shakes her head. "No—it was too dangerous to risk diving into the bog, which was similar to quicksand around that time. But they watched him go under, and he never came back up. My own uncle stood on that shore for hours, just to make sure, praying he wouldn't have to end the boy's life himself. There's no way he could have survived." Then, grimacing, she looks up at you. "And there <i>are</i> young people who have been killed. Guards, warriors, patrolmen." "People who couldn't be avoided, if the killer wanted to keep on terrorizing Wallmire," Red remarks, "but perhaps not specifically <i>targeted</i>. Not like the elders." The <i>heguman</i> falls silent at that. "It's just not possible," she says eventually. <<include "pushsaranae1">>

Saranae frowns. "I remember a few people mentioning that, before my grandmother bade them never to speak of it again, lest they invite bad luck," she says. "We always assumed it was some remnant of whatever spell Lyden used to bind or bewitch her, dissipating now that she was dead. You don't think it could be related to whatever's been going on here, do you?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I\'m not ruling the possibility out."' 'saranae7kneads'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I don\'t know."' 'saranae7kneads'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Yes, I think it\'s related."' 'saranae7kneads'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"No, I don\'t think so."' 'saranae7kneads'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Saranae kneads her forehead with the heel of her palm. "Thirty years," she says. "There couldn't be any connection… could there?" <<include "pushsaranae1">>

Saranae sighs and stands up, slowly brushing down the front of her rough-woven tunic. "I need to go help Wren," she says, "and fetch the children from their cousins' house before it gets too late. When I return, I can make some supper, and you can tell us what else you've learned today." She turns and leaves the house, shutting the front door quietly behind her. Red glances over at you. "What <i>have</i> we learned today?" he asks thoughtfully. "We've confirmed that there was demon mischief here at some point—I'm going to translate 'dark magic' to summoning and consorting with Endarkened, especially if there was a noticeable effect on their child. But if all the guilty parties are dead…" Trouble blows out a breath and relaxes slowly back into his chair, covering his eyes with his forearm. "Then we still don't know what's attacking Wallmire. We're back to square one." "Well, we can at least take precautions," Blade says brusquely, not one to be discouraged or slowed down for long. "Let's assume there <i>is</i> demon-work afoot. We arrived too late last night, but we have time now to set up some wards or protective spells around the town to alert us to the presence of an intruder. That way neither the Asag nor the Terror—if it is a demon—can creep in and catch us unawares." He casts you an almost apologetic look. "I was hoping to give you time to rest and save up your energy more, but it seems we'll need you and Red to maintain a perimeter tonight." "It will be taxing," Red sighs, running a hand through his hair. "We'll need to sketch out a giant rune-circle big enough to encompass the town, then make the bindings complex enough to allow for Wallmirans to go in and out of the boundary without constantly shocking our senses. We'll have to set it to ignore things like wild animals, too, or we'll be half-dead from fatigue by morning. So basically, it should only detect magic or Rot only—that's a nuanced and difficult spell to pull off. I wouldn't even know how to do it, if Neon hadn't finally managed to decipher some of Archmage Tangriel's security spells before we left." "We'll probably have to stay up all night to maintain it," you agree. "And even then, if our concentration wavers or one of us nods off…" "I brought a bag of khav," <<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 25>> Blade says, looking at you with a gentler look of sympathy and concern. <<else>> Blade says, nodding stiffly. <</if>><</nobr>> "And I'll stay up with you throughout the night." "We can take turns," Trouble chimes in. "Rotate watch so we're not all run ragged by tomorrow. Red and <<c firstname>> can catch up on their sleep during the day." Chase is rubbing his chin thoughtfully, unusually quiet as he leans back in his chair and stares sightlessly up at the ceiling. You glance at him. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Something on your mind, Chase?"' 'afterthurlshousevii'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"What\'s got you so quiet?"' 'afterthurlshousevii'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Why do I get the feeling that I\'m not going to like what you\'re about to say?"' 'afterthurlshousevii'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Chase blinks, very slowly, before tilting his head down to look around at all of you. Then he says, still pensive, "Something's off. Why do I get the sense that our dear <i>heguman</i> is lying?" At your stares, he sets his feet on the ground and straightens in his seat. "Or at least holding something back. Was it just me?" "Sounded like she was telling the truth to me," Trouble says bluntly. "And what reason would she have to lie? We're here to help her save her village and prevent her people from getting murdered. It'd be in her best interest to tell us everything she knows. She just didn't make the connection between an incident thirty years ago and today. Can't say I really blame her." Chase makes a thoughtful humming sound. "Unless there's some secret that she thinks is worth dying for, even if the whole village suffers for it. Or maybe she's protecting somebody, I don't know. It just doesn't quite add up. <<nobr>><<if $berendalspendant is true>> The vision $halfname saw. The thing flying out of Berendal's body. <</if>><</nobr>> The fact that we didn't find <i>any</i> trace of evil spellbooks in that house, even though she said the villagers were too afraid to mess around with it afterward, and everything else was untouched. So where'd all that paraphernalia all go?" He shakes his head. "And they were so <i>sure</i> that Lyden was some evil sorcerer, but she couldn't give details on <i>how</i> they knew. Or what exactly was wrong with that boy, Thurl." He shrugs. "You saw his bedroom. Looked like a normal kid to me." "Perhaps she was scarce on the details because she was ashamed," Red says. "Maybe Lyden wasn't actually that evil, and she's aware that their superstitious nature got the better of them. It's probably painful to talk about a mob killing a family on the basis of suspicion… <i>especially</i> to people like $halfname2 and me." He glances at you. "It wouldn't be the first time that someone tried to cover up a wrongful Mage-killing." <ul class="choices"> <<if $swampclue gte 5>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I agree with Chase. Mimir sent us to that house for a reason. We have to be missing something."</div>' 'iagree7with'>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">"I agree with Chase. Mimir sent us to that house for a reason. We have to be missing something."</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $cunning gte 50 or $swampclue gte 5>><li><<link '"I agree with Chase. Saranae is lying about something. I can just feel it."' 'iagree7chase'>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link '"I think we need to trust the Wallmirans. Saranae wants what\'s best for her people. She wouldn\'t lie to us: it would only serve to protect the killer."' 'ithink7we'>><</link>></li> </ul>

"But what?" Trouble asks. <<include "figureitout">>

"But what?" Red asks. <<include "figureitout">>

Chase holds his hands up. "Fair enough," he says. "I suppose I'm just suspicious by nature. Or I <i>really</i> wanted Mimir to be right. I don't relish staying longer in this swamp than we have to." <<include "oopsie">>

<<set $talkedaboutasag to false, $asaglure to false>>Blade sighs through his nose and closes his eyes, as if sinking into a state of meditation. "We should review what we know," he states. <<include "figureitout2">>

"What do we know about the Bleakmoor Marsh?" you ask. Red ticks off his fingers. "It's a vast swampland that receives a lot of spillover from the Waste and the Realm-of-Ghosts," he begins. "Inclement weather, strange creatures that aren't seen anywhere else on the Continent… <<nobr>><<if $kaidir is true>> Like the bloodmorph that we saw. And mosquitoes as large as your head, deadly marsh rays, snakes that have adapted to breathe underwater. Something about the place—maybe its harsh conditions or its unpredictable weather patterns—makes many of the resident creatures undergo a strange evolutionary process in order to adapt, developing a hodgepodge of traits to survive. There's flora and fauna here that aren't seen anywhere else in the world." <<else>> Mosquitoes as large as your head, deadly marsh rays, snakes that have adapted to breathe underwater." <</if>><</nobr>> "And there's loads of Tainted," Trouble adds. "Like the Banshee we killed, and the Asag. More different types than I've seen gathered in one place." "Terrible place to settle down," Chase remarks. "So why build an entire town here?" <<include "figureitout2">>

"What do we know about the Asag?" you ask. <<nobr>><<if $faris is true>> <br><br> "Well, we know thanks to you that they're what lured the other Shepherd teams to their deaths," Blade says grimly. <</if>><</nobr>> Red has pulled out a little notepad and quill, because of course he has. "We know they're Tainted creatures, and they've been keeping the Wallmirans trapped in the swamp, acting as a kind of living barrier or net that cuts the villagers off from escaping. We know, obviously, that they can steal and mimic voices perfectly, and that they're capable of moving as a unified horde. And we know they're likely the passive threat keeping the Wallmirans in place, but that they're probably not what's actively coming into the village every night and arranging the murdered victims into effigies and displays. They're little better than pack animals who want to feed, and don't seem capable of higher planning or patience in that way. And we know that they fear the temple that Mimir's staying in." "What we don't know is if they're being directed by a more intelligent force, one that's perhaps preventing them from descending on the village all at once, but which can use them to cut the villagers off if they attempt to flee," Blade finishes. "Are they simply a natural hazard of the swamp, like the Banshee, or are they a tool being used by a larger threat?" <<include "figureitout2">>

"What do we know about the Terror?" you ask. "We know that it's been terrorizing Wallmire for months," Trouble says slowly. "Killed about half of their population, one by one, and almost entirely elders above a certain age. It leaves kids and young ones alone, unless—seemingly—it has no other choice." "We still don't know the methods that it uses to kill," Chase says. "Staying and sleeping together in groups seems to foil it, so it probably targets victims who are alone. But other than that, we don't exactly know what it does. Maybe it lures victims to it before killing them." <<nobr>><<if ($intelligence gte 50 and $swampclue gte 5) and $talkedaboutasag is true>> <br><br> "If we think the Terror could be linked to the Asag, or is capable of controlling them, maybe it uses the Asag's voices to lure the victims out," you propose. "It would explain why it needs people to be alone, and why no one ever actually <i>witnesses</i> the violence. It lures them to some place out-of-sight, using stolen voices to fool them." <br><br> Trouble nods at you approvingly. "Could be. It's a strong theory, anyway." <</if>><</nobr>> "What else do we know?" Blade asks. "It likes arranging the victims' bodies into gory displays to terrorize the surviving townspeople," you say grimly. "Which speaks to sadism befitting a demon. It's slow and patient—its aim was never full-on destruction, or killing off Wallmire all at once. It wants the people here to suffer. And it has ways of preventing them from leaving." <<include "figureitout2">>

"They were accused of consorting with the dark arts," Red says heavily. "Demon-mischief. There was Lyden, the Mage husband and an outsider to Wallmire. Berendal, a local girl who was thought of as obedient and virtuous before she fell in love with him. And Thurl, their child, who was thought of as 'not right' and 'tainted.'" "And they were killed, somewhere around thirty years ago," Blade continues. "Hunted down by a mob of Wallmirans who feared their nature and proclivities. Lyden was dismembered, buried, and later burned. Berendal was stabbed, and her body was burned. The child drowned, according to multiple witnesses, but his body was never recovered." "And there is no <i>proof</i> that they were wicked," Trouble adds. "We only have hearsay, and the true witnesses—the adults of that time—are now all dead. But we didn't find anything in that house. <<nobr>><<if $troubleequalist is true>> Not like what $halfname and I found in the Equalists' compound, anyway. <</if>><</nobr>> Which is strange, because if the villagers never touched the place, where'd the damning evidence go?" "Someone <i>was</i> at the house recently, though," Blade says. "Someone other than us. Perhaps they removed the evidence themselves." "But who?" you ask. <<nobr>><<if $berendalspendant is true>> <br><br> "And what about that dark cloud that $firstname saw coming out of Berendal's body?" Chase asks. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "figureitout2">>

"Closed community, settled and built here only-the-gods-know-when," Red murmurs. "They have their own language, culture, social hierarchy. Totally closed off from the outside world. They don't typically allow outsiders in—and even their own people never seem to want to leave, unless under the threat of death. Even the one who did make it out seemed to find the outside world overwhelming. The scout who made it to Capra, remember? She immediately turned around and tried to come back home." "Something ties them to this place," you say. "Or they fear something out there so deeply that they feel like they have no choice but to stay. But what?" "Change?" Trouble guesses. "Or do you think it's something else? Can't be the Endarkened: they have so many Tainted and horrible creatures wandering around here that it couldn't phase them." "Maybe it's the Autarchy," Blade says. "But what would they have to fear from them? They're not Diminished." "No, none of them have a hint of magic," Red muses. "And they're obviously not Ket, Hunters, or Elves." <<include "figureitout2">>

"Well, I think she's only tangentially related to this," Red says. "But we know she claims to be a Seer: a Sister of the Silver Eye, as it would seem. She came to the Bleakmoor a few days ago, well after the killings had started, to explore that old temple, which she claims is some sort of holy site for the <i>kithma</i>, where she can contact the gods. Notably, the Asag have left her alone, ostensibly because they fear the ruins. But Saranae mentioned that the killings paused around the time that she first arrived. Maybe there's a connection there?" "But it also sounds like they paused around the time that <i>we</i> entered the marsh," Chase points out. "Maybe the Terror took a break to scout us out, gauge our threat level. Or it was doing the same to Mimir." "Or both," you say. <<include "figureitout2">>

<<nobr>><<if (($swampclue gte 6 and $intelligence gte 65) and ($cunning gte 50 and $talkedaboutasag is true)) and $asaglure is true>> "There's one key that we're missing still," you announce, rising to your feet and pacing around the length of the small dining room. "I feel it in my bones. Something that makes all of this makes sense." <br><br> "I agree," Red says, setting his elbows on his knees and rubbing his temples. "But my head's pounding, and I can't pinpoint exactly what that thing is. There are still too many unanswered questions. Where do we start?" <br><br> You stand there for a moment, closing your eyes, trying to push away the fog of exhaustion and fear and frustration and impatience hemming you in. It feels like beating back a dense, smothering cocoon of cloth, chloroform and endless choking velvet, too warm and suffocating for you to breathe, to <i>think</i>—but then you have a moment of clarity. Just the smallest jolt, like a rubber band has been snapped against your brain. <br><br> "Wait," you say, and everyone sits up at your altered tone of voice. "Listen. We know the Wallmirans are hiding something, and that they feel like they need to hide themselves away from the world for a reason. And we know something has been attacking them—the Terror—and that it's been using the Asag to imprison them to do so. So the Terror has to be something capable of controlling Tainted creatures. Right?" <br><br> "Right," Red says slowly. <br><br> "So what can control Tainted creatures?" you ask. "We know Endarkened can, because of their shared demonic blood. <i>But we never stopped to ask what the other half of the Asag's parenthood is</i>." <br><br> Everyone has gone very, very still. <<if $redromanceflag gte 25>> Red is staring at you with such an awed, admiring expression that you'd think he was a newlywed wanting <<if $gender is "female">> to carry his bride <<elseif $gender is "male">> to drag his husband <<else>> to drag his spouse <</if>> off to your honeymoon bed. "Every Tainted creature is the product of an Endarkened and a Child of Light," he says softly. <<elseif $chaseromanceflag gte 25>> Chase is staring at you with such a shocked, frozen expression that you almost think he's a little frightened of you. "Every Tainted creature is the product of an Endarkened and a Child of Light," he says softly. <<elseif $troubleromanceflag gte 20>> Trouble is staring at you with such an unabashed expression of gobsmacked wonder that his jaw is literally hanging open. <br><br> "Every Tainted creature is the product of an Endarkened and a Child of Light," Red says softly. <<elseif $bladeromanceflag gte 25>> Blade is staring at you with a quiet look of respect and pride. "Every Tainted creature is the product of an Endarkened and a Child of Light," he says softly. <<else>> Red is staring at you with a look of dawning realization. "Every Tainted creature is the product of an Endarkened and a Child of Light," he says softly. <</if>> <br><br> "So what Child of Light are the Asag derived from?" Trouble asks in a hushed voice. <br><br> You look around at them all. "I can only guess," you say slowly, "but think about it: if Shades are the Tainted versions of Mages, wielding a twisted form of dark magic, and wyverns are the Tainted form of dragons, breathing venom and stone-breath instead of fire… then the Asag, which can steal and perfectly replicate voices…" <br><br> "…must be the Tainted form of a people whose one ability was to steal and perfectly replicate forms and faces," Red whispers. "<i>Changelings</i>." <br><br> Something behind you crashes to the ground. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "thetruthcomesout">><</link>></center> <<else>> "It seems obvious that a demon is at work here," you say. "Even if Lyden himself was killed, if he really was consorting with a demon, that demon could have fled its vessel upon the moment of its death and hidden itself away in the swamp, biding its time until it grew in power again. Then, when it was ready, it commenced with killing off the Wallmirans, one by one, just like Quiial did in Capra and Clochus did in Haven, drawing out their suffering, feeding on their pain and fear. It would explain why it can control the Asag and use them to keep the town trapped: Endarkened can always control Tainted due to their shared demonic blood. And it would explain why it wasn't able to approach Mimir, protected as she was by the gods' ruins." <br><br> "But what about the fact that it only kills elders?" Chase asks doubtfully. "Demons have no use for old souls, and I kind of doubt it cares that much about revenge. Vessels, if that was what Lyden or his family was, are a dime a dozen to Endarkened, as disposable as potato sacks. Do we really think it cared about them enough to want to avenge them, targeting only the people involved in their deaths while leaving the children alone? That doesn't sound like an Endarkened to me." <br><br> "Maybe there's some sort of logic for its actions that we're not aware of," you say. "Some long game it was playing by killing off the older people first. But I have no doubt that it won't stop there. It's not going to be satisfied until all of Wallmire is dead." <br><br> Blade rises decisively to his feet. "Then we need to prepare in case it tries again tonight. Dark has fallen, so we don't have much time. Let's move out." <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "ending7i5">><</link>></center> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<include "ending7i5">>

<<achieve "achieve_swamp">><<notify_achievement "Secrets of the Swamp" "Uncovered the ugly truths hidden in Wallmire.">>Cyril and Surya are standing at the front door, having pushed it open without any of you realizing. A shattered clay bowl full of tumbled salad lies on the threshold at Surya's feet. They stand there, frozen as statues, staring at you with wide, terrified eyes from the doorway. Cyril has even gone a little green, looking like he wants to throw up. The look of unadulterated horror on their faces tells you all you need to know. You rise, very slowly, and hold up your hands. "Easy," you say softly. Unhelpfully, Blade has put a hand on his sword; Chase has gone as still as a hunting dog, practically quivering with suppressed tension. Trouble's eyes fly from the children to the open door, over and over. "Here, let me clean that up for you. Do you want to take a seat?" "Cyril," Surya says through stiff lips, her eyes large and frightened, "go get Zaza." Her twin brother shakes his head slowly. "Not leaving you here," he says, looking at you warily, as if you're holding them at gunpoint. You need to de-escalate the situation, and fast. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"We\'re not going to harm you. You know that, don\'t you?"' 'thetruthcomesouti'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"The secret\'s already out. You might as well tell us the rest. We\'re going to find it all out anyway."' 'thetruthcomesouti'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"We\'re here to help you. You won\'t get into any trouble if you tell us the truth."' 'thetruthcomesouti'>><</link>></li> </ul>

The twins don't say a word… but after a moment, Surya slowly edges the rest of the way into the house and eases the door shut behind her, ushering Cyril in with her. You can still hear the murmur of adults outside in the village square, though from the sounds of it, the fire is beginning to die down and the mourners are beginning to clean up the remains of the pyre. The town's nightly curfew is fast approaching. After a long silence, Surya says abruptly, "We're not supposed to say anything." "About what?" Red asks her in a kind voice. "About being Changelings? We already know, and <i>you</i> didn't have anything to do with that. We figured it out for ourselves." He pauses. "But if you don't feel comfortable telling us more, that's all right." Surya says nothing. It's her more timid twin brother who ultimately creeps forward, trembling a little. You all watch as he comes to a stop in front of the table, his little body shaking like a leaf in a high wind. "You'd better g-go," he manages to choke out after a moment. Startled gray eyes peer at you from beneath his fringe of dark brown hair. Now you have to wonder if they were always that color, or if they've… changed. "I-if you tell the grownups… if they find out you know…" He exchanges a fearful glance with Surya. "I d-don't want anything to happen to you." Your heart picks up a little, despite yourself. Almost imperceptibly, Blade tenses further. "What do you mean?" you ask Cyril quietly. The boy shakes his head, and it's Surya who speaks up again, her voice utterly serious and flat now. "It's our most sacred law," she says. "It's called the <i>Tua'ti</i>, the Ancient Pact. Our ancestors made it when they built Wallmire. We can't tell anyone the truth, and we can't ever use our… our powers. No one outside the village can ever find out about our—about—it's a secret. That's why no one ever leaves here. We've all got to stay in the village, or else the outside world…" She trails off. "No one's ever supposed to know." "But <i>why</i>?" Trouble asks her then. "Why is it such a strict law?" Again, the twins exchange looks. Finally Cyril says, sounding reluctant: "They teach us about it in class. They said—a long time ago—when the world knew about us, they mistreated us. They captured a lot of our people, forced them to do whatever they wanted, or else they'd kill them, or kill their families. So now we have to hide from them." You're rapidly trying to run through whatever information you've picked up about Changelings over the years. Like the Elementals, they were—<i>are</i>—a race of people thought to have gone extinct, the last of them vanishing shortly before or during the Castigation. Their defining trait is their ability to effortlessly change their forms into anything they've seen, down to the most minute, perfect detail, and seemingly able to ignore the constraints of energy, mass, and size: a Changeling could just as easily turn themselves into an elephant or a mouse, and within the blink of an eye, at that. The only caveats that you're aware of is that they can only change themselves into living beings, not inanimate objects. Their natural-born forms are that of green-skinned—though you've seen illustrations of blue, violet, or orange—people, slim and willowy and a bit weedy in appearance; but the key difference between a Changeling and a magical Shifter like a <i>Mutai</i> is that the Shifter's transformation can hold only so long as their energy and concentration does: as soon as their mental stamina wavers, the spell slips, and they automatically revert back to their natural forms. For Changelings, they actually <i>become</i> those new forms, and stay that way indefinitely and effortlessly, until they decide to change into something else. In fact, you think you've heard somewhere that there's even a danger to them staying in one non-human form for too long, lest their minds actually begin to settle into that of a bird's or a reptile's, losing their human sentience and causing them to forget how to change themselves back. That's how perfect and absolute their transformations can be. And they're undetectable by magic or any other means. You know nothing of what their culture was like, nor have you heard anything about this <i>Tua'ti</i>. But you have seen the popular play—as has everyone present, you think—<i>The Changeling's Princess</i>, in which the Changeling hero is depicted as a spy sent to infiltrate a foreign court. In fact, the <i>only</i> profession you've ever heard of a Changeling occupying is that of a spy, at least in popular culture. But you never stopped to think about who they were spying <i>for</i>. If what Cyril is saying is true, could the Changelings have been exploited for their abilities, forced into dangerous games of espionage and intrigue on behalf of employers unscrupulous enough to threaten their lives—or the lives of their families—if they didn't comply? Red is clearly following the same tract of thought you are. "Changelings used to be used as spies," he says slowly, "but in the plays, they were always paid for their work. But what if they weren't? If they were actually misused and hunted for their abilities…" "It would make sense for them to go into hiding," Blade says grimly. "Hence Wallmire. I'm guessing they took advantage of the confusion of the Castigation and withdrew into the Bleakmoor Marsh, letting the world beyond believe they had disappeared or died off in order to avoid being pursued any longer." "The Bleakmoor is where our people came from," Cyril interjects then, apparently throwing all caution to the wind now. "Just like how the Elves came from Thielwood, and the Hunters were first born in the Reach. Our people first came from the Bleakmoor. We're like all of the creatures and animals here. We're able to change forms because we had to adapt to the state of things—the harsh environment—here. Or at least that's what our teacher says." <<nobr>><<if $kaidir is true>> <br><br> "The bloodmorph," Red murmurs. "The animals best fit for survival here are the ones who can evolve or metamorphose rapidly—like the bloodmorph, able to change from water to land to tree-climbing creature as necessary, or the mosquitoes that had to evolve to be as big as your head to survive, or the marsh rays and the stinging crabs… No wonder there are creatures here that are never seen anywhere else on the Continent." <</if>><</nobr>> You turn to the twins. "So the Changelings were mistreated, persecuted and exploited for their powers… so then they decided to retreat to the Bleakmoor, your ancestral birthplace, and build Wallmire?" Cyril nods. "And they formed the <i>Tua'ti</i>. They agreed they could never use their powers again, or give the outside world any clue that the Changelings still existed. They wanted to be left in peace, and they thought that living without the ability to change was better than suffering because of it." The way he says it makes it sound like he's echoing an oft-taught school lesson, reciting it from memory. "And so you've lived here in this town ever since," Trouble murmurs. "Never opening yourselves up to the outside world." Then he shakes his head. "But haven't you ever thought of changing your minds, of rejoining? It's been—what, two hundred years? When the demons came back to Blest, didn't you think it'd be better to stand with the rest of the world rather than staying in isolation?" "It's not as if <i>we</i> had any say in it," Surya says then, tartly. "It's the elders. Even when our <i>yegrim</i>"—that's their word for scout, you remember, the one person who's allowed out of the Bleakmoor to assess and bring back news about the state of the world—"first talked about the Shepherds, some of our big cousins wanted to go and join you, but the elders said the <i>Tua'ti</i> meant they couldn't. If they did, they'd have to…" And then she abruptly cuts herself off. You and the others exchange uneasy glances. "They'd have to what?" you ask. Surya says nothing, so it's Cyril who says softly, "They'd have to have their tongues cut out." "<i>God's teeth</i>," Trouble swears. "I don't think it's really true," Cyril says hurriedly. "It's never happened, even our mother said so. It's just that people are so afraid of it that they don't dare risk it, you see." "You risked it," Chase points out then. "We found you when you were running away from home." "That's different," Surya says, her voice as sulky as if he'd accused her of some grave wrongdoing. "That was for an emergency. They'd already given Chivon"—that's the Wallmiran who actually made it out and sent the message to Haven, you remind yourself—"special permission to go fetch you, and they didn't cut out <i>her</i> tongue. But she was supposed to come right back, because she'd never been outside before <i>and</i> she had to turn into a bird to get out of the swamp, and they didn't want anyone seeing her and guessing the secret. But then she never did. Either the Terror got her, or maybe she forgot how to change back." <i>That's</i> a chilling thought. You wonder how many of the bizarre creatures you saw in the swamp could have originally been Changelings who got stuck in their animal forms. Then another chilling thought creeps up on you, winding a thin wire of anxiety around your gut. "And according to the <i>Tua'ti</i>," you say slowly, "what happens to outsiders who find out about your secret?" Cyril is watching you somberly, his thin, greenish face very grave. "That's why I think you should leave," he says. "The law says they'd have to kill you." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "thetruthcomesoutii">><</link>></center>

It's as if all the air has been sucked out of the room; but you tell yourself you have to stay calm, even through the pounding in your head. You can't stop to wonder if the villagers would <i>really</i> kill you—the very people sent here to help them, whom they <i>invited</i> to come here. After all, that's probably what happened to Lyden's family, isn't it? And that involved someone they'd known their entire lives, one of their own flesh and blood. But before you can ask them if that was what really happened—though you doubt they would know, the twins are only ten or eleven or so—the front door suddenly opens again, revealing Saranae and Wren, talking quietly with each other with tense, worried expressions on their faces. "Oh, good," Wren says, xer look clearing at the sight of you, apparently oblivious to the thrumming, bowstring tension in the room. "You're all still here. —Surya, Cy, what's happened to this salad?" "I tripped on Cyril's foot and dropped it," Surya says swiftly, with such perfect surety that you'd believe her if you hadn't witnessed it yourself. She's a dangerous little liar, that one, but at least she's using the ability to protect you…. for now. She clasps her hands innocently behind her back. "We were just arguing about who should pick it up." "Of course you were," Wren sighs. Xe turns to Blade while Saranae moves into the kitchen to fetch a rag, though you don't miss how she casts a more skeptical look at the twins, who have busied themselves with scooping up leafy greens from the floor with their hands. "Well, curfew is approaching, and the last of the townsfolk are withdrawing to their designated houses. I've set my patrols, but would you mind accompanying me as I do the last perimeter check and headcount for the evening? I seem to recall you intended on setting some sort of magical protection tonight, as well." "Right," Red says, standing a tad hastily. "Well—it will take some time to set up, so I'll scout out what we need to do while <<c rank>> <<c surname>> stays back to—prepare." "<<c she>> can keep an eye on the house," Blade says, his voice much flatter than Red's. You can still read his meaning despite the fact that his expression doesn't change, though: although it would be sensible to ensure that Saranae and the twins are protected while the others make their circuit, he also wants you to stick around to make sure they don't end up telling something inconvenient to their mother during your absence. The group makes a brief plan: Blade and Trouble will circle the town from the south while Red and Chase accompany Wren from the north, meeting back up again at the house. "And then we'll have to make sure the funeral pyre is well and extinguished," Wren adds. "All in all, it should take less than twenty minutes. Then we can settle down for dinner—I'm sure you haven't eaten." <i>And what an awkward meal <b>that</b> will be</i>, you think but don't say, feeling that knot of dread harden into a stone in the pit of your stomach. Would this kind family really be willing to <i>kill</i> you if their ancient law demanded it? Are they impelled to by some mystical force, or is it simply a custom, as hard-wired and immutable as a belief in a god, or the societal idea that crime must be punished? Your thoughts are awhir—it's difficult to piece all of this together, especially after the day you've had, what with finding Mimir and going to investigate that house. Your heart beats thinly in your throat. Still, it's with a professional nod and a casual wave that you watch the others clatter out the door, none of you giving a sign that anything's amiss. <<nobr>><<romancecalc>><<if ($trouble gt $chase and $trouble gt $red and $trouble gt $blade) or ($highestromance is "trouble")>> It's only Trouble's worried glance at you from over his shoulder that broadcasts any concern, but thankfully Saranae has her back turned in the kitchen, and Wren doesn't seem to notice. <<elseif ($chase gt $trouble and $chase gt $red and $chase gt $blade) or ($highestromance is "chase")>> It's only Chase's slight frown at you and the quizzical arch of his brow as he walks out that broadcasts any concern, but thankfully Saranae has her back turned in the kitchen, and Wren doesn't seem to notice. <<elseif ($red gt $trouble and $red gt $chase and $red gt $blade) or ($highestromance is "red")>> It's only Red's expressive grimace and shrug of his shoulders at you that broadcasts any concern, but thankfully Saranae has her back turned in the kitchen, and Wren doesn't seem to notice. <<else>> It's only the flash of Blade's dark eyes and the slight tightening of his mouth when he looks at you that broadcasts any concern, but thankfully Saranae has her back turned in the kitchen, and Wren doesn't seem to notice. <</if>><</nobr>> You flap your hand to motion for him to act normal, and turn back to the kitchen table with—you hope—an unchanged expression. The door swings shut behind them, leaving you and Saranae alone in silence. Cyril and Surya scamper off to their room. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "thetruthcomesoutiii">><</link>></center>

You politely offer to help Saranae as she prepares dinner, but she roundly refuses, the image of a generous hostess as she putters around the small kitchen, cracking quail eggs into a large stone bowl suspended on a hook over the wood-burning stove. For a few minutes, you watch her thin frame moving with quick familiarity around her home, the long brown tendrils of her hair shifting against her back like moving vines, and you wonder if <i>everyone</i> in Wallmire is a Changeling. Do they really forbid any practice of their shape-changing ability, which must be as natural to them as breathing—even more innate than magic is to you? Magic takes work, long practice and study to master and control; but you've read tales about how Changeling babies could change shape so thoughtlessly that their parents had to tie special weights around their ankles to prevent them from simply flying or hopping away. And even in the outside world, with the Autarchy and the Inquisitors threatening execution on sight, Mages <i>still </i>find ways to sneak lessons, to learn by candlelight and practice their arts and swipe books off of piles meant for burning, gathering in dilapidated basements and remote sanctuaries just for a taste of their inborn power. You couldn't resist the call of your magic any more than you could go your whole life without singing or whistling or dancing. Could the Changelings really fear discovery so much that they would completely suppress their own abilities, even in a community as isolated and insular as this? With no one else around for miles? Or, like Mages, do they chance practicing with their gifts every now and then in secret, despite what their law demands? Saranae rinses something in her water-pump sink. Without looking up, she says, her voice light, "Did the children say anything to you before we came home?" You look up with a start. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Uh..."' 'uhdot7dot'>><<setcharisma -3>><<setcunning -3>><<setintelligence -3>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Lie. "No. They discussed the funeral, that\'s all."' 'lieno7they'>><<if $cunning lt 72>><<set $wallmire -= 3>><<else>><<setcunning +1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Deflect. "Why do you ask?"' 'deflectwhy7do'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Your mind is a thundering blankness for a moment. "…No?" you manage finally, lamely. Saranae casts a wary glance back at you. "I… see." <<include "thetruthcomesoutiv">>

<<nobr>><<if $cunning lt 72>> Even to your own ears, your voice sounds nervous and guilty. Saranae doesn't look back at you. "I see." <<else>> Saranae nods to herself. "I see. Well, it can't be helped. They've seen so many horrible things over these last months… but I think this latest death hit them hard. The deceased was our last elder, so now they feel as if they have no guiding generation to steer them through these times, or pass on their wisdom as they grow older. Respect for our elders is very… instinctual, in our village." She pauses. "And I think, when you arrived, they somehow convinced themselves that nothing ill could happen while you were here—as if you were a balm, or perhaps a good-luck charm, something protective and invincible. I think it upset them to realize that not even you can stop death." <br><br> "But you're the <i>heguman</i>," you say, not knowing what to say to this last part. "Aren't you the leader of the village, rather than the elders?" <br><br> "I only inherited the position because my grandmother was killed," Saranae says, with a tinge of bitter ruefulness in her tone. "She was one of the first ones claimed by the Terror, you see, some months back. We always knew I would take over when she was gone, but we never expected it would be so soon." She trails off for a moment. "As such, although I nominally became the <i>heguman</i> after her death, I was beholden to many of the elders—some of whom formed a kind of council or committee—who were concerned that I was too inexperienced for the position, especially with the current… troubles we're facing." She shrugs slightly. "I can't say they were entirely wrong. But they're all gone, now." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "thetruthcomesoutiv">>

Saranae's hands pause over the sink. "They seem so quiet, that's all. All day they've been talking about you, wondering where you were, telling us about how bravely you fought off that Banshee. I was sure they'd be swarming all over you once you came back, pestering you with questions. But now they've shut themselves up in our room." "They might be tired," you suggest. "Didn't get much sleep last night." Saranae makes a humming sound. "Those kids," she says affectionately. "They could be awake for two days and still have energy to spare." "Was it difficult, having twins?" you ask. What are Changeling pregnancies like, anyway? Saranae laughs. "The birth was difficult, but raising them never has been. They look after each other: it almost sets me at ease, knowing they'll always have each other to look after and count on. And I knew a little of what to expect. Twins are very common, in Wallmire. Even triplets and quadruplets aren't so rare." And yet you never noticed anyone who looked identical to each other in the village. You wonder if they're always in their green-skinned forms whenever they think they're alone, or if they keep up the facade on a daily basis, just on the off-chance that some outsider might randomly stumble across their community. <<include "thetruthcomesoutiv">>

She falls silent again, and you're left to contemplate your next course of action. How on earth are you going to handle this? Not only will you have to somehow find this killer—and you're still not sure if you're actually any closer to doing that—but will you have to hide the truth of what you know from your hosts, as well? The door swings open again as you're mulling over this, the smell and crackle of butter, onion, and eggs filling the small room. Sequestered in their room, Cyril and Surya are talking to low, furious whispers, which thankfully Saranae can't hear over the sounds of her cooking—that's another problem you're going to have to monitor, too: how the children will interact with their parents. <<nobr>><<romancecalc>><<friendshipcalc>><<if $highestromance is "blade" or $highestfriendship is "blade" or (($blade gt $trouble) and ($blade gt $red) and ($blade gt $chase))>> <<set $thurlsdisguise to "blade">>Blade walks back in, his eyes shuttered and his mouth firm with stoic thoughtfulness. He glances at you and says evenly, "Red forgot something in his pack." <br><br> You nod absently as he moves towards the corner where Red tucked away his pack. <i>He probably needs chalk to sketch out a rune</i>, you think as he walks behind you. <br><br> <<if (($cunning gte 65 and $blade gte 75) or ($cunning gte 75 and $intelligence gte 60)) and $strength gte 75>> It's only in the split-instant that Blade's shadow passes over you that something sparks in your hindbrain, deep in that atavistic nest of connection and instinct, so instantaneous that you don't even have time to really understand it. Later you will be able to parse it as a realization that <i>something is wrong</i>. It's the way that Blade sounds, walking behind your chair with a heavy tread. It's not his footsteps, something you've subconsciously come to absorb over the long months of knowing him. Those solid, thumping movements are not how Blade walks. He always moves without a sound. <br><br> You surge into motion just as you feel the disturbance of air against the back of your neck. You explode out of your chair, whirling, your fist blurring towards the intruder's face. "Blade," already reaching for your neck, is quick enough to meet you and block your blow, his eyes utterly blank and dead and his strength absolutely monstrous—but he's not fast enough to guard against your vicious kick to his groin. Your next punch sends him spinning to the ground, crashing to the floor with a tremendous commotion. Saranae lets loose a startled scream from the kitchen. You hear an exclamation from Cyril and Surya's room. You leap on the impostor, grappling for his wrists to pin him to the floor, your magic rushing to the surface of your skin, to the top of your skull in a rushing tide of heat and power and adrenaline— <br><br> The Blade-impostor is melting to nothing beneath you, changing into a swarming, boiling cloud of smoke, just like the Asag. Before you can react, it slips entirely free of your grip and hurls itself out the window, as intangible as mist, darting off into the night just as Cyril and Surya come running out of their room. <br><br> You curse to yourself. <<include "afterthurl">> <<else>> <<include "thurlgetssaranae">> <</if>> <<elseif $highestromance is "trouble" or $highestfriendship is "trouble" or (($trouble gt $blade) and ($trouble gt $red) and ($trouble gt $chase))>> <<set $thurlsdisguise to "trouble">>Trouble strolls back in, his hands shoved deep in his pockets and a serious, pensive expression on his face. He glances at you with a brief, faint smile of acknowledgment and says, "Red forgot something in his pack." <br><br> You nod absently as he moves towards the corner where Red tucked away his pack. <i>He probably needs chalk to sketch out a rune</i>, you think as he walks behind you. <br><br> <<if (($cunning gte 65 and $trouble gte 75) or ($cunning gte 75 and $intelligence gte 60)) and $strength gte 75>> It's only in the split-instant that Trouble's shadow passes over you that something sparks in your hindbrain, deep in that atavistic nest of connection and instinct, so instantaneous that you don't even have time to really understand it. Later you will be able to parse it as a realization that <i>something is wrong</i>. You had just the briefest glimpse of Trouble from the doorway, but even that momentary flash was enough to alert you that something isn't quite right. It's his eyes, you'll realize later. His eyes are wrong. <br><br> They're the right shade of blue, but they don't have a ring of gold around the pupil. <br><br> You surge into motion just as you feel the disturbance of air against the back of your neck. You explode out of your chair, whirling, your fist blurring towards the intruder's face. "Trouble," already reaching for your neck, is quick enough to meet you and block your blow, his eyes utterly blank and dead and his strength absolutely monstrous—but he's not fast enough to guard against your vicious kick to his groin. Your next punch sends him spinning to the ground, crashing to the floor with a tremendous commotion. Saranae lets loose a startled scream from the kitchen. You hear an exclamation from Cyril and Surya's room. You leap on the impostor, grappling for his wrists to pin him to the floor, your magic rushing to the surface of your skin, to the top of your skull in a rushing tide of heat and power and adrenaline— <br><br> The Trouble-impostor is melting to nothing beneath you, changing into a swarming, boiling cloud of smoke, just like the Asag. Before you can react, it slips entirely free of your grip and hurls itself out the window, as intangible as mist, darting off into the night just as Cyril and Surya come running out of their room. <br><br> You curse to yourself. <<include "afterthurl">> <<else>> <<include "thurlgetssaranae">> <</if>> <<elseif $highestromance is "red" or $highestfriendship is "red" or (($red gt $blade) and ($red gt $trouble) and ($red gt $chase))>> <<set $thurlsdisguise to "red">>Red walks back in, with a somewhat forced, rueful smile. "Forgot something in my pack," he says, casting a careful glance over at Saranae in the kitchen. <br><br> You nod as he moves towards the corner where he tucked away his pack. <i>He probably needs chalk to sketch out a rune</i>, you think as he walks behind you. <br><br> <<if (($cunning gte 65 and $red gte 75) or ($cunning gte 75 and $intelligence gte 60)) and $strength gte 75>> It's only in the split-instant that Red's shadow passes over you that something sparks in your hindbrain, deep in that atavistic nest of connection and instinct, so instantaneous that you don't even have time to really understand it. Later you will be able to parse it as a realization that <i>something is wrong</i>. <br><br> <<if $specialization is "Circle-trained">> You've known Red for many years. His presence is just as familiar and unconscious to you as your own: you know his scent, the sound of his footsteps, and the ghostly brush of his magic, so indistinct and unnoticeable that it's like the perception of his body heat or the rustle of his clothes when he moves. But as he walks behind your chair, you realize that something about him is missing, a cold absence where there should have been the impression of life. <br><br> You can't feel his magic at all. <<else>> You've known Red for many months now. As with the others, his presence is just as familiar and unconscious to you as your own: you know his scent, the sound of his footsteps, and the ghostly brush of his magic, so indistinct and unnoticeable that it's like the perception of his body heat or the rustle of his clothes when he moves. But as he walks behind your chair, you realize that something about him is missing, a cold absence where there should have been the impression of life. <br><br> You can't feel his magic at all. <</if>> <br><br> You surge into motion just as you feel the disturbance of air against the back of your neck. You explode out of your chair, whirling, your fist blurring towards the intruder's face. "Red," already reaching for your neck, is quick enough to meet you and block your blow, his eyes utterly blank and dead and his strength absolutely monstrous—but he's not fast enough to guard against your vicious kick to his groin. Your next punch sends him spinning to the ground, crashing to the floor with a tremendous commotion. Saranae lets loose a startled scream from the kitchen. You hear an exclamation from Cyril and Surya's room. You leap on the impostor, grappling for his wrists to pin him to the floor, your magic rushing to the surface of your skin, to the top of your skull in a rushing tide of heat and power and adrenaline— <br><br> The Red-impostor is melting to nothing beneath you, changing into a swarming, boiling cloud of smoke, just like the Asag. Before you can react, it slips entirely free of your grip and hurls itself out the window, as intangible as mist, darting off into the night just as Cyril and Surya come running out of their room. <br><br> You curse to yourself. <<include "afterthurl">> <<else>> <<include "thurlgetssaranae">> <</if>> <<else>> <<set $thurlsdisguise to "chase">>Chase slinks back in, his hands stuffed in his pockets and his face perfectly mild and pleasant—if anyone could fool Saranae into believing nothing's wrong, it's him. He gives you a half-jaunty, half-lazy salute and says, "Red told me to fetch something he forgot in his pack." <br><br> You nod as he moves towards the corner where Red tucked away his pack. <i>He probably needs chalk to sketch out a rune</i>, you think as he walks behind you. <br><br> <<if (($cunning gte 65 and $chase gte 75) or ($cunning gte 75 and $intelligence gte 60)) and $strength gte 75>> It's only in the split-instant that Chase's shadow passes over you that something sparks in your hindbrain, deep in that atavistic nest of connection and instinct, so instantaneous that you don't even have time to really understand it. Later you will be able to parse it as a realization that <i>something is wrong</i>. It's his scent, that warm amber cologne that you've come to subconsciously absorb over the long months of knowing him, something that's simply a part of his presence, as much as his smile or the sound of his footsteps. But as he walks behind your chair, he doesn't smell like anything. <br><br> This Chase has no smell. <br><br> You surge into motion just as you feel the disturbance of air against the back of your neck. You explode out of your chair, whirling, your fist blurring towards the intruder's face. "Chase," already reaching for your neck, is quick enough to meet you and block your blow, his eyes utterly blank and dead and his strength absolutely monstrous—but he's not fast enough to guard against your vicious kick to his groin. Your next punch sends him spinning to the ground, crashing to the floor with a tremendous commotion. Saranae lets loose a startled scream from the kitchen. You hear an exclamation from Cyril and Surya's room. You leap on the impostor, grappling for his wrists to pin him to the floor, your magic rushing to the surface of your skin, to the top of your skull in a rushing tide of heat and power and adrenaline— <br><br> The Chase-impostor is melting to nothing beneath you, changing into a swarming, boiling cloud of smoke, just like the Asag. Before you can react, it slips entirely free of your grip and hurls itself out the window, as intangible as mist, darting off into the night just as Cyril and Surya come running out of their room. <br><br> You curse to yourself. <<include "afterthurl">> <<else>> <<include "thurlgetssaranae">> <</if>> <</if>><</nobr>>

<ul class="choices"> <<if ($specialization is "wild" and $psionic gte 65) or $psionic gte 75>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Summon a swarm of bats to track the intruder as you follow behind.</div>' 'summona7swarm'>><<setpsionic +3>><<setmagic +1>><<set $methodofthurl to "bats">><<set $wallmire += 10>><<setreputation +2>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Summon a swarm of bats to track the intruder as you follow behind.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($specialization is "shifter" and $arcane gte 70) or ($arcane gte 75 and $magic gte 75)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Change yourself into a peregrine falcon to chase after the intruder.</div>' 'changeyourself7into'>><<setarcane +3>><<setmagic +1>><<set $methodofthurl to "hawk">><<set $wallmire += 10>><<setreputation +2>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Change yourself into a peregrine falcon to chase after the intruder.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($specialization is "conjurer" and $arcane gte 70) or ($arcane gte 75 and $magic gte 75)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Lend speed to your steps by translocating after the intruder.</div>' 'lendspeed7to'>><<setarcane +3>><<setmagic +1>><<set $methodofthurl to "translocate">><<set $wallmire += 10>><<setreputation +2>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Lend speed to your steps by translocating after the intruder.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($specialization is "binder" or $specialization is "diviner") and ($magic gte 50 or $psionic gte 50) or $magic gte 75>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Pin a tracking spell to the intruder so you can follow it.</div>' 'pina7tracking'>><<setpsionic +1>><<setarcane +1>><<setmagic +1>><<set $methodofthurl to "track">><<set $wallmire += 10>><<setreputation +2>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Pin a tracking spell to the intruder so you can follow it.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link 'Chase after the intruder on foot.' 'chaseafter7the'>><<set $methodofthurl to "nothing">><<if $strength gte 70>><<setstrength +1>><<else>><<sethealth -10>><</if>><<set $wallmire += 10>><<setreputation +2>><</link>></li> </ul>

<<achieve "achieve_wolfinsheep">><<notify_achievement "Wolf in Sheep\'s Clothing" "Caught the Terror in disguise before he could harm you.">>It's always risky to send animals to fight in your stead: feeling their pain or deaths so acutely can seriously injure the mind of the person directing them. Some say it's like death by a thousand mental cuts. But <i>following</i> is a simple enough task. You fling open the doors of your mind, grabbing threads of your power and throwing them out like a net, shouting, <i>Help me!</i> Within your mind's eye, the darkness surrounding Wallmire is lit by dozens of fluttering ghostly lights. It's impossible to truly communicate with so many alien intelligences at once, their 'voices' meaningless chimes reverberating in your head, but you can clamp down with the force of your will and send out a flux of images, ideas, and feelings rather than hold an individual conversation with each bat. You send them a picture of the boiling cloud of smoke, darting away through the trees, as well as a stream of symbols and instincts that they can understand. <i>Follow. Hunt. Track</i>. And no matter where they go, you'll be able to trail the swarm—so long as the smoke doesn't go somewhere the bats can't follow. Almost instantly, you feel the bats converge together into a living, seething shape in the air, surging away through the swamp as they give chase to their quarry. You sprint after them, keeping them tethered to your will and mind, not allowing them an inch of distraction or uncertainty. If your concentration slips, you'll lose your hold on them: not only will the swarm disperse, but you'll also lose your ability to track them, and in turn, keep tabs on your enemy. The tiny bats, no bigger than your hand, shriek their excitement, their consciousnesses a confusing din inside your mind. Like the Asag, the smoke has a slight mass that they can perceive with their echolocation: to them, it vaguely resembles a cloud of insects, flailing just out of reach. Their minds fill with hunger and the desire to bite, to rend and snap and devour. So does yours, and you have to wrench your thoughts away from bloodthirst. <<include "notsure">>

<<achieve "achieve_wolfinsheep">><<notify_achievement "Wolf in Sheep\'s Clothing" "Caught the Terror in disguise before he could harm you.">> One day, you'll be able to cobble together an animal of all different parts: the eyes of an owl, the body of a lion, the wings of a swan. But for now, it's easiest for you to assume the shape and anatomy of a creature you've studied extensively: one of the fastest birds in the world, the peregrine falcon. You'll only be able to maintain the form for as long as your concentration doesn't waver—a damnably hard job even without having to track the rapidly-escaping cloud of smoke—but you've been training for this eventuality for a while now, having only just mastered the technique well enough to fly a useful distance before reverting back to your original form. <i>At least I won't have to worry about getting stuck and forgetting how to be human again.</i> You close your eyes and feel the prickle of feathers growing on your face, the warm and skin-tightening sensations of your own body shrinking and refining to delicate hollows and light, perfect points. When you open your eyes again, your vision is intensely magnified and sharpened, almost painfully so. You raise your wings and let loose a scream of triumph, darting after the cloud of smoke before it can disappear through the thick morass of trees. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>You fly.</span></div></div>' "changeyourself7intoi">><</link>></center>

In falcon shape, you are as swift and light as an arrow, speeding effortlessly through the treetops, tucking in your wings to barrel through narrow openings and between gnarled, tangled branches. If you were flying in an open space, you'd catch up with the cloud of smoke easily, but it seems to know this territory well: it darts and weaves in evasive maneuvers, ducking through openings in brambles and trying to get you snagged in swollen overhanging vines. Still, you press after it, calling out your defiance with a high billowing whistle in your throat. The cloud flees before you like a rabbit being harried by a hunter. <<include "suresure">>

<<achieve "achieve_wolfinsheep">><<notify_achievement "Wolf in Sheep\'s Clothing" "Caught the Terror in disguise before he could harm you.">>Typically, a Mage can only translocate to a location that they've visited before and memorized, like how Red could translocate back to his bedroom in Haven if he had the need to. What you're going to attempt is much riskier: teleporting yourself after the cloud of smoke in short bursts and "hops," fixing your attention on certain points just ahead of you and materializing in places within your immediate field of view. If your attention slips or you go too fast, you might wind up conjuring yourself halfway through a tree or impaling yourself on an unnoticed branch; but if you do it right, it should enable you to keep the cloud of smoke within eyesight at all times. You might possibly even overtake it. The world turns into a nauseating smear of colors and patterns, thick stripes of darkness cut through with sudden silver flashes of sky or moon. Your head spins with the effort of constant teleportation, your body only barely materializing and settling into its proper weight before phasing out again, giving you the swaying, bobbing feeling of disembodiment, almost like a kind of sea sickness. You can't quite find your footing, and part of you worries that you'll end up caught halfway between your corporeal form and your ethereal one, turning you into some kind of half-ghost. But each time you zip to a new spot, your eyes find the cloud of smoke, surging away from you with a newfound sense of urgency or even fear; you fix your gaze on a spot just behind it and <i>jump</i>. In this way, you find yourself leapfrogging across a tremendous distance in just a handful of heartbeats, gaining ground faster than the cloud can outpace you. Once, you appear so closely behind your quarry that you could almost reach out and grab it. You can almost feel its panic as a physical force, a dense and rotten kind of heat. <<include "suresure">>

<<achieve "achieve_wolfinsheep">><<notify_achievement "Wolf in Sheep\'s Clothing" "Caught the Terror in disguise before he could harm you.">> Normally, the most effective way to use a tracking spell is to employ a focus, something that ties you to the target that you're tracking. Lovers, for example, will use exchanged rings or locks of their sweetheart's hair to connect themselves together and enable them to draw themselves to the other's location, like two ends of a magnet. Not possessing anything of the intruder's, you can't do something as surefire as that—but you can try to fire a tracking rune at the cloud of smoke, slapping it on the way you might dab a bit of incriminating paint on the side of a runaway wagon, or adhere a bright flier to the flank of a fleeing horse. Your opponent could shake the spell off, if it knows how, but you'll just have to take that chance. Quick as a thought, you sketch the correct sigil in flame and light inside your mind, seeing it hover like a ghostly, brilliant glyph in the air, unseen to all eyes except yours. At your muttered spellword, the sigil fires off into the distance, as if propelled by a slingshot, colliding invisibly with the boiling cloud of smoke just before it slips through the morass of trees. You feel the spell sink in and take hold, forming a kind of tether to your mind. You feel a tugging sensation in your skull, pointing in the direction that the cloud fled in, and you smile grimly to yourself as you take off at a dead sprint. Even if you lose sight of it, it can't get away from you now. <<include "notsure">>

<<achieve "achieve_wolfinsheep">><<notify_achievement "Wolf in Sheep\'s Clothing" "Caught the Terror in disguise before he could harm you.">> You take off at a dead sprint, not even stopping to check on Saranae and the twins. If you take your eyes off of your quarry for even an instant, you'll lose it through the morass of the trees. <<nobr>><<if $strength gte 70>> Thanks to your intensive training and top physical condition, you only just manage to keep up with your prey, even as it darts and winds sinuously through the underbrush, trying to slip out of sight. You lend more speed to your steps, ignoring the mud sucking at your ankles and the branches that whip past your face in a stinging carousel. You're going to catch this thing even if it kills you. <br><br> <<include "notsure">> <<else>> As soon as you start running, you regret not being more diligent with your physical training. It is obscenely hard to keep up such a punishing pace, all while keeping your eyes on the darting, bobbing smoke-cloud as it weaves in and out of the canopy, your vision jarring painfully with every footfall and your face stinging from the branches that whip past your face in a stinging carousel. Almost immediately, you begin to lag, and it's only sheer force of will that urges you on. Your breath scrapes painfully in your lungs; the mud underfoot sucks at your ankles; the blood thumps and throbs in your temples. You would make a pitiful sight for any hidden watchers who happen to be observing you from the depths of the swamp. <br><br> At some point you trip over an exposed root and wrench your ankle, but you force yourself to press on, gritting your teeth and limping awkwardly as you run. Each new footstep sends a fresh bolt of agony shooting up your hip, and tears dazzle your eyes. The cloud of smoke scurries farther and farther away. <br><br> <<include "notsure">> <</if>><</nobr>>

You're not sure how long you slog through the claggy marsh and oppressive darkness, your heart hammering in your ears. The lights of Wallmire recede behind you, and even the swamp itself grows eerily hushed, as if the entire place is holding its breath until the danger passes. Somehow, despite it being nighttime, the air feels as thick and hot as a blanket. Sweat clings and scurries down your body like the prickle of insects. How long have you been running? Minutes? Half an hour? An hour? And you can't even pause to look where you're going: what if you get lost? <<include "suresure">>

And then, all at once: everything stops. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "suresurei">><</link>></center>

<<set $invadethurl to false>> Something vicious and unyielding clamps down on your mind: you cry out in protest at the violation, the abrupt <i>wrongness</i> of it. It feels as if a foreign hand suddenly plunged into your chest and seized the softest, most vulnerable parts of you without any warning. <<nobr>><<if $methodofthurl is "hawk">> Shocked out of focus, you immediately drop to the ground and revert back to your regular form, gasping and panting with exertion as you feel your strange human knees sink into the soft, mushy earth. Not only is your mind paralyzed by this—by this <i>thing</i>, but your body feels horribly wrong, far too large and clumsy, your blood churning noisily through your ears and your limbs as dense and unwieldy as clay. You grip your head and let out a choked cry at the forced transition, the sound reedy and pitiful when it was once a powerful, piercing challenge. <br><br> <<else>> You immediately stagger and lose your balance, toppling to the ground and feeling your knees sink into the soft, mushy earth. <br><br> <<if $methodofthurl is "bats">> Bats faint and drop to the ground all around you, a rain of light, furry little bodies falling in stunned silence as you break off your connection to them. In moments, they stir again and disperse unharmed, no longer governed or united by your intelligence—but you remain huddled on the ground, paralyzed by this strange force now gripping your mind in its maw. The bats squeak at you as they flutter away: <i>Get up! Get up or you'll be eaten!</i> <br><br> But you can't move, and there's nothing they can do to help you. <br><br> <<elseif $methodofthurl is "track" or $methodofthurl is "translocate">> Your grip on your magic slackens instantly, and you lose the thread of your spell. The sudden immobility is shocking: it's like you were riding full-tilt on a horse one moment, only to find the horse vanished and yourself sitting on nothing but air the next, sending you plummeting to the ground with a bone-rattling impact. <br><br> <</if>> <</if>><</nobr>> You try to look around, but you can barely even raise your neck above your shoulders, feeling as limp as a marionette that has had its strings viciously cut. You seem to be in some sort of glade, a circle of dark trees pressing around you like a ring of silent, watchful sentries. You have no idea how far you traveled or even where you are in relation to the village. To your alarm, you think you can see amorphous shadows stirring beyond the band of trees, forming a tighter and more impenetrable wall between them as you strain to watch. <i>Shit</i>. The Asag. Did your intruder intentionally lure you away into a trap? Out of the corner of your eye, you see something dropping from the canopy and flowing into a larger hulking shape: another Asag, maybe, but nearly twice as tall as the average man. You can't make it out clearly: your head feels like it's being weighed down by an anvil, and the corners of your vision are dark and shadowy. All the while, the cold alien force holding your mind hostage assesses and evaluates you, turning your consciousness over in its grip like a child examining a newly-discovered rock. There's a horrible <i>scritch-scratching</i> sensation in your brain, like a cat pawing at the front door. Right now, the force is only immobilizing you, but it's also trying to pry your very thoughts open for its perusal! <ul class="choices"> <<if (($psionic gte 60 and $magic gte 70) or ($specialization is "enchanter" and $psionic gte 50)) or ($magic gte 90 and $psionic gte 40)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Defend yourself against further invasion!</div>' 'defendyourself7against'>><<setpsionic +3>><<setmagic +1>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Defend yourself against further invasion!</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link 'Allow the force to invade your mind.' 'allowthe7force'>><<setpsionic -3>><<sethealth -5>><<set $invadethurl to true>><</link>></li> </ul>

You fling up as many mental barriers as you can, slamming the door to your mind shut and barricading it with as many labyrinthine layers as you can find. Your training has taught you well: no matter how much the force pries at your defenses, they remain ironclad and immovable. Your enemy may be able to hold you in place, but they are <i>not</i> getting in to see anything important. The idea of training triggers a feeling of recognition as the alien force prowls and paces at your mental walls. <i>It's an Enchanter</i>. Your opponent is a <<nobr>><<if $specialization is "enchanter">> Mage—what they're doing to you is exactly how you've invaded other people's minds in the past, albeit with far more subtlety and finesse—and they caught you off-guard, ambushing you before you had time to put your mental guard up. They must have known that you weren't expecting an Enchanter to be all the way out here. <<else>> Mage—what they're doing to you is exactly what you've been taught to defend yourself against when dealing with brute-force Enchanters—and they caught you off-guard, ambushing you before you had time to put your mental guard up. They must have known that you weren't expecting an Enchanter to be all the way out here. <</if>><</nobr>> But what <i>is</i> an Enchanter doing out here? And what do they have to do with that cloud of smoke you saw, or the Terror? <<include "suresureii">>

You struggle in vain, thrashing against your enemy's grip on your psyche, but it's no use: with terrible, pitiless patience, the force prises your grip free and wedges its way in. It can't do anything except look—but that in itself is bad enough. Your heart hammers in your throat as you groan and thrash against the violation. You sense your thoughts being unwound like a spool, and there's nothing you can do to shield them, to isolate the most significant or important parts and hide them away. This intruder could be looking at your childhood, or at the security protocols in the compound, information about your companions—you don't know. You can only lie there, helpless, and wait for it to be over. The realization comes to you while the force paws and rifles through your memories, peering at your thoughts and then discarding them with clinical, dispassionate disinterest. <i>It's an Enchanter</i>. Whoever has you pinned like an insect beneath their mental gaze is a Mage, and an incredibly strong one, at that: they caught you off-guard and managed to clamp their will down on you before you could put up your own mental defenses, like a cat pouncing on an unsuspecting mouse. But what is an Enchanter doing out here… and what do they have to do with that cloud of smoke you saw, or the Terror? <<include "suresureii">>

<<set $freeyourselffromthurl to false>> <ul class="choices"> <<if ($psionic gte 70 and $magic gte 70) or ($specialization is "enchanter" and $psionic gte 50) or ($magic gte 90 and $psionic gte 50) or ($magic gte 100)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">It doesn\'t matter. Now that you know what you\'re up against, you\'re strong enough to fight back.</div>' 'itdoesnt7matter'>><<set $freeyourselffromthurl to true>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">It doesn\'t matter. Now that you know what you\'re up against, you\'re strong enough to fight back.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link 'It doesn\'t matter. They\'re too powerful—all you can do is hang limply in their grasp.' 'justas7you'>><<setcourage -3>><</link>></li> </ul>

Their craft is strong, but yours is far stronger: you can subtly pry yourself loose of their enchantment, freeing yourself before they even notice that you've slipped your leash. Then, when they think you're still pinned down and defenseless, you can strike—but, like a hostage wriggling free of your bonds, you need to distract your captor's attention away from you're doing first. <<include "justas7you">>

<<set $thurlpatience to 5>> Just as you formulate the thought, the hulking shape in front of you speaks. "If only you had left with the others," it says. "I wanted the <i>heguman</i>. If you had let me have her, all of this could have ended tonight." You stiffen. It's a man's voice, deep and grating, almost like the fall and clatter of a landslide—but the bulk standing in front of you is so massive that it can't be fully human. If you really crane, you can make out broad, muscular shoulders, scarred tan skin, lank brown hair falling to his shoulders. A neck built like a bull's, a chiseled granite-like face, and shadowed, unreadable eyes. His palms are as big as meat cleavers—he could crush your neck with one hand. <i>Keep him talking</i>, you think, shielding your intentions from him as best you can. The more you make him talk, <<nobr>><<if $freeyourselffromthurl is true>> the more you can work on getting free without his noticing. <<else>> the more time you can buy. And maybe you can finally get some answers to this mystery. <</if>><</nobr>> <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Who are you?"' 'whoare7you'>><<set $thurlpatience -= 1>><</link>></li> <<if $swampclue gte 3 and $intelligence gte 70>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Thurl, I take it?"</div>' 'thurli7take'>><<set $thurlpatience += 1>><<setintelligence +3>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">"Thurl, I take it?"</div>'>><</link>><</if>> </ul>

The massive Mage views you with something close to contempt. "You haven't put it together yet," he states, his voice slow and rolling. From the ponderous, careful way he talks, he clearly isn't used to speaking out loud. "I am Thurl: son of Berendal and Lyden." <<include "preinterrogatethurl">>

The massive Mage views you with something approaching approval, or at least something more than cruel indifference. "Yes," he rumbles, his voice slow and rolling. From the ponderous, careful way he talks, he clearly isn't used to speaking aloud. "I am Thurl: son of Berendal and Lyden." <<include "preinterrogatethurl">>

<<set $whythurl to false, $whythurl2 to false, $whythurl3 to false, $killshepherds to false, $numberofasag to 100>> <<include "interrogatethurl">>

<<nobr>><<if $thurlpatience lte 0>> <<setreputation -= 5>> <<include "thurlfail2">> <</if>><</nobr>> <ul class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("buthow7can")>><<if $thurlsdeath is true>><<link '<div class="question-item">"But how can that be? The villagers watched you die."</div>' 'buthow7can'>><</link>><</if>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("isaw7avision")>><<if $berendalspendant is true>><<link '<div class="question-item">"I saw a vision of your mother dying..."</div>' 'isaw7avision'>><<set $thurlpatience += 1>><</link>><</if>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("wherehave7you")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Where have you been all of this time?"</div>' 'wherehave7you'>><<set $thurlpatience -= 1>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("areyou7terror")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Are you the Terror? Are you the one killing the villagers of Wallmire?"</div>' 'areyou7terror'>><<set $whythurl to true>><<set $thurlpatience -= 1>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("why7whydid")>><<if $whythurl is true>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Why? Why did you do it?"</div>' 'why7whydid'>><<set $whythurl2 to true>><</link>><</if>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("howdid7accomplish")>><<if $whythurl is true>><<link '<div class="question-item">"How did you accomplish murdering half the village?"</div>' 'howdid7accomplish'>><<set $thurlpatience += 1>><</link>><</if>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("howare7controlling")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"How are you controlling the Asag?"</div>' 'howare7controlling'>><<set $thurlpatience += 1>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("whatdid7you")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"What did you want with Saranae?"</div>' 'whatdid7you'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("didyou7kill")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Did you kill the other Shepherds?"</div>' 'didyou7kill'>><<set $thurlpatience -= 1>><<set $killshepherds to true>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("whydidnt7you")>><<if $kaidir is true and $killshepherds is true>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Why didn\'t you kill us the same way you killed them?"</div>' 'whydidnt7you'>><</link>><</if>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("isthat7your")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Is that your true form?"</div>' 'isthat7your'>><<set $thurlpatience -= 1>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("whydoes7changelingss")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Why does the Changelings\' pact... their <i>Tua\'ti</i>... matter so much to them, anyway? So much that they would kill for it?"</div>' 'whydoes7changelingss'>><<set $thurlpatience += 1>><</link>><</if>> <<if $whythurl2 is true and $whythurl3 is false>><li><<link '"It was wrong of them to kill your parents. But that didn\'t give you the right to slaughter them wholesale like this."' 'itwas7wrong'>><<set $whythurl3 to true>><<setloyal +1>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $whythurl2 is true and $whythurl3 is false>><li><<link '"I feel sorry for you. You were only a child. You didn\'t deserve any of this."' 'ifeel7sorry'>><<set $whythurl3 to true>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $whythurl2 is true and $whythurl3 is false>><li><<link '"Hearing your side of things, I almost understand why you did it. Those elders deserved to die."' 'hearingyour7side'>><<set $whythurl3 to true>><<setcompassionate -1>><<set $thurlpatience += 2>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $whythurl2 is true and $whythurl3 is false>><li><<link '"Listen. I don\'t think you\'re a bad person. If you turn yourself in, I can negotiate a lighter sentence for you."' 'listeni7dont'>><<set $whythurl3 to true>><<setcharisma +1>><<setloyal +1>><<set $thurlpatience -= 1>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $whythurl2 is true and $whythurl3 is false>><li><<link '"You\'re insane."' 'youare7insane'>><<set $whythurl3 to true>><<set $thurlpatience -= 3>><<setcourage +1>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $whythurl is true and $whythurl2 is true>><li><<link 'You can\'t think of anything else to say.' 'youcant7think'>><</link>></li><</if>> </ul>

"I am a Changeling, just as they are," Thurl replies, implacable. "They should have known not to trust surface appearances." <<include "interrogatethurl">>

"There was a cloud of smoke," you realize, "flying away from her body after they stabbed her. That was you?" Thurl nods. "The boy who drowned was an illusion," he rumbles, "while my mother carried me with her in her pocket as a mouse. Even at that age, I could create such enchantments, fool the mind into seeing whatever I wanted it to see. It is partly why they feared me. When they slew her, I transformed into the cloud and fled." "All while your drowning simulacrum fooled everyone else into thinking you died, too," you murmur. "Clever." Thurl's eyes look carven and dead. "Not clever enough to save my mother's life." <<include "interrogatethurl">>

The big man shrugs his shoulders. "Here in the swamp," he answers. "Where else could I have gone?" "You lived in the Bleakmoor alone? For thirty years, as a young child? How did you survive? How did you elude discovery? Why didn't you leave?" "This place is my home," is all he says in reply. "I was not going to let them drive me out." <<include "interrogatethurl">>

You feel true contempt radiate from Thurl then, the dull, caustic edge of his apathy and hatred. "Of course I am," he answers, speaking so slowly it's clear he finds you completely beneath him. "I am the one who killed the elders. I am the one who kept them trapped in that cesspit they call a village—a prison of their own creation. If my family couldn't leave this place, neither could they." <<include "interrogatethurl">>

The man stares down at you, his eyes like chips of obsidian, no light in them at all. "Why do you think?" "To get revenge," you gasp, flexing the fingers of your left hand experimentally. <<nobr>><<if $freeyourselffromthurl is true>> You still feel as if you're being crushed beneath an impossible dragging weight, but you think you're slowly starting to create a little maneuvering room for yourself… and he hasn't seemed to notice. Yet. <</if>><</nobr>> "Because they killed your parents." Then, to keep him talking: "But they said your father was consorting with demons, practicing dark magic. They said that you—" "That I was a demonspawn?" Thurl's deep voice is utterly flat, toneless, but you sense something dangerous stirring beneath the surface. "They would tell you that, wouldn't they, Shepherd? But did it ever occur to you that they would lie?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Of course it did."' 'ofcourse7it'>><<set $thurlpatience += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"How do I know <i>you\'re</i> not lying?"' 'howdo7iknow'>><<set $thurlpatience -= 1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Thurl watches you for a moment, impassive. <<include "myfather7had">>

"I have no reason to," Thurl answers with contempt. "Your opinion means nothing to me. I'm only curious to see if you managed to deduce the truth, or if you're as incompetent as the others who came before you." He turns away slightly, staring out past the trees. <<include "myfather7had">>

"My father had nothing to do with the demonic arts. He was an Enchanter, a practitioner of cheap parlor tricks and glamours. Most of his life, he worked as a street juggler, stealing and hiding what books he could salvage from the Inquisitors when he could. When he arrived to Wallmire, he and my mother fell in love. She was ultimately permitted to marry him, but as an outsider, he was not allowed to live among the townsfolk. Part of their wretched <b>pact</b>." He spits it as if it were a curse word. "For a while, it seemed they could achieve an uneasy peace if Berendal swore never to reveal their secrets to my father. But that was a foolish hope. When I was born, and he saw me changing shape in the cradle, she had to tell him the truth. About who and what she really was… and in turn, what the rest of us were. Would it surprise you to learn that he still never suspected, even with how suspiciously the villagers treated him?" He shakes his head. "My mother confessed the matter to the elders. But because they had already lived here for years, the <i>heguman</i> was persuaded to let the matter slide. If my father had no contact with the outside world and remained only in our small shack, what did it matter if he knew the rest of us were Changelings? So long as he lived and died within the confines of the village, the secret would never reach the outside… and so they decided to break their own laws. For Berendal had once been the darling of their town." Abruptly, he stops talking, and with your head bowed, the silence is so heavy that you begin to feel a creeping sense of paranoia and dread, as if he's melted away into the air again, circling behind you so that he's no longer in your periphery. When he speaks again, your shoulders jolt. "The trouble came when my other powers began to manifest. Not my shape-shifting side, but my magic. <<nobr>><<if $invadethurl is true>> You experienced it, too: how age can cause a young Mageling's power to explode suddenly in force and potency. <<else>> You must have experienced it, too: how age can cause a young Mageling's power to explode suddenly in force and potency. <</if>><</nobr>> The villagers began to grow frightened of me. They began spreading rumors that I would work my witchcraft on them, or else my abilities would attract the Inquisitors again. My parents argued with the elders, begged to take me away to a Mage school where I could learn to control my powers. They swore they would never breathe a word about what we really were. That no one would ever discover the secret of the Changelings. The elders refused. The fact that my parents even proposed leaving sparked outrage; they had already been spared once, and to consider flouting the law a second time—for something as taboo as leaving—made it feel as if all the elders' fears were coming true. There was a confrontation. Calls for their arrests were made. And my father made the mistake of trying to enchant them into forgetting." His voice has become more and more staccato as he's talked. You're almost afraid to look up at him as you breathe, "Why was that a mistake?" "He was not a very strong or clever man, my father," Thurl says. "Even as a child, I sensed that. He never would have had the talent to fool so many minds into compliance, especially when so much fear had spread throughout the village. All it did was incite a killing rage, once they sensed his intentions, his clumsy attempts to gentle their minds. They accused him publicly for his crime, and my mother defended him, damning them all for driving him to do it. The next night, they stormed our home and killed them both." "And so you've killed them in retaliation," you finish. "Everyone who was involved that night—the elders, the people who would have been adults during that time…" "I made sure they suffered, too," Thurl says, his voice more placid now. "I ensured they felt nothing but pain and terror all the way until their lives were snuffed out, as they did to my parents. I watched them weep and piss themselves and beg for mercy when they realized who I was, when they saw what they had brought unto themselves thirty years ago. Then I left their bodies as a warning for the ones I would take next." He falls silent for a moment. Then, softly: "And it was still not enough." <<include "interrogatethurl">>

"It was simple enough," Thurl replies coolly. He says it as plainly as if describing some daily task on a farm. "First I used the Asag to corral them like livestock, ensuring that none of them could escape the swamp. Then I would spy on them, gathering information, watching their patrols, selecting my next target, all while disguising myself as an insect or a wisp of mist or even as one of their own villagers. Sometimes I walked among them in broad daylight, and they never realized: even Changelings have trouble recognizing each other in their changed forms, and they are so terrified of their own powers that their natural instincts have grown slow and stiff from disuse. They were as oblivious as sheep, unaware of the wolf moving amongst their herd." He scoffs lightly. "At first I used the Asag to steal their voices and lure them away from the village through some deception or another, pretending to be a child calling out in need, a wounded friend, a dog gone missing. But once they realized that it wasn't safe to be alone, and that they couldn't trust the voices they heard, I simply used my magic on them. It is easy to enchant people when they're asleep: you can make them walk right to you, hold them still and docile as lambs as you break their necks." He looks indifferently down at you, not even gloating. "As I'm sure you're aware." You <<nobr>><<if $courage gte 70>> successfully <<else>> can't <</if>><</nobr>> suppress the shudder that passes through you. "Why didn't you enchant them from the start?" "I found it amusing to give them hope," Thurl replies. "Once they ascertained that I was using voices, they began to think they could thwart me: that they had learned my secret and could now protect themselves against me. Little did they know that it was simply one of many tools in my arsenal. Once they overcame it, I crushed their sense of safety once more by changing the pattern and doing something entirely different." <i>He's a sadist</i>, you think, <i>and he's had three long decades to plan his revenge</i>. "Being both a Changeling and an Enchanter seems a dangerous combination," is all you can think to say, still trying to stall for time. "Not only can you infiltrate places seamlessly, but you can trick and subdue any minds that might suspect you. Now I see why your ancestors made such deadly spies." Surprisingly, something like a trace of humor lightens Thurl's dark eyes, though his mouth doesn't lift. The expression is grimly terrifying. "And there is the true irony," he says softly. "In those days of yore, Changelings were forced to undergo extensive training in order to make themselves impervious to magical probing and telepathic scanning—of the kind that Enchanters can perform. What good was a spy if any passing Mage could peer into their mind and discover who they really were? So the Changelings of the past built up an immunity to such influence… but, in forsaking their history and resolving to live as simple townsfolk, the half-wits in Wallmire have opened themselves up to being completely and thoroughly exploited… by me. In a way, they sealed their own deaths generations ago." <<include "interrogatethurl">>

Not even Enchanters can control hordes of Tainted, and especially not for such an extended period of time. But the Asag seem to obey him so effortlessly, so seamlessly… For him to use them to encircle the villagers, to pursue you into the temple and to terrorize the other Shepherd squads, the grip he has on them must be complete and unquestionable. But the only beings who can command Tainted like that are… Your stomach drops. "Like the Endarkened, most Tainted operate according to a kind of hive-mind," Thurl says, his voice almost academic, pleasant. For a man who's spent seemingly his entire life alone in a swamp, he's surprisingly erudite and intelligent, even rational. But there's an energy about him that sets your teeth on edge: like a calm, still pond that you know has a bloodmorph in it, just waiting to explode into motion as soon as you're foolish enough to disturb the surface. "In the absence of a true Endarkened, control of the hive-mind defaults to whichever Asag has the strongest willpower. The dominant, the alpha, whatever you want to call it." "And how did you subdue this dominant alpha?" you ask, not sure that you want to know the answer. "I didn't," Thurl answers. "I <i>am</i> the alpha. When I fled the village, I turned myself into an Asag. When I was in their form, they had no interest in devouring me. I could move among them, disguise myself, join their horde, and ultimately hunt with them. I <i>became</i> them. And eventually, my mind became enough like theirs that I was a part of their hive-mind, too. Now they belong to me, and I to them." "But…" <i>It's like that scout who might have turned into a bird and forgotten how to change back,</i> you think, unbidden. <i>The transformation becomes so complete that their very consciousnesses turn into the shapes they inhabit.</i> "But that means… your mind would be…" "Demonic?" Thurl shrugs. "Perhaps so. I lived as an Asag for a long time, surviving off the land as one of their number. Tainted, you see, don't require sleep, cooked food, a warm bed or a house. They need only to feed on flesh and pain, and there was that aplenty." "But shouldn't you have forgotten how to change back?" you ask. "You should be an Asag permanently, you would have gotten stuck—" "I split off and changed forms as often as I could to avoid that," Thurl says calmly. "Every day, I chanced turning into a frog or a viper or a man, just to remember that I hadn't always been a Tainted. And I never forgot my true purpose, my plans for revenge. Mother and Father wouldn't let me." So he retained the ability to turn back into himself through sheer force of will, you think, and the all-consuming desire for vengeance. His hatred must have been so feverish, it was the only thing that anchored him to his purpose, prevented him from losing himself entirely to the Asag. But that doesn't mean his mind survived the constant switching over. "Why an Asag at all?" you ask. "If you wanted to hide in the swamp, you could have kept yourself as a frog most of the time, eaten mosquitoes, made yourself a fish—" "Frogs and fish are eaten by bigger animals all the time," Thurl says dismissively. "Asag live forever, unless slain; they have no natural predators. As I said, they need no shelter nor food nor warmth. They are nigh invincible, compared to the natural beasts of the swamp. Why wouldn't I use a more perfect form, if it was readily available to me?" He shrugs his massive shoulders. "Besides, the Changelings already thought me a demon. It seemed fitting that I take on that shape." <<include "interrogatethurl">>

"She was a child when your parents were killed," you say. "Surely you don't hold her responsible for what happened back then?" "No," Thurl says tonelessly. "It's why I haven't killed the children. But the last elder passed today, in her sleep. I intended to claim the <i>heguman's</i> life in exchange. The price needed to be exacted. The balance had to be maintained." "Balance?" When he doesn't reply, you say, "But if it was a matter of claiming another life instead of the elder's, why did it have to be Saranae?" "She is the last pillar upholding their pact," he answers, his eyes blinking very slowly—an unnervingly reptilian movement, one lid lagging slightly behind the other. "The <i>Tua'ti</i> is what killed my family. It's their heritage: they robbed me of mine, so I intend to destroy theirs. With the <i>heguman</i> dead, the remnants of the past will finally be eradicated, and the cycle will be complete. The ghosts can rest. Her bones would have been the last." Oh, boy. You hope he isn't unraveling. <<include "interrogatethurl">>

"No," Thurl grunts. "The Asag did. I only guided them in that direction." You feel a flash of bitter anger. "So you <i>did</i> kill them." "No. If they had been clever enough to defeat the ones I sent, or to turn around and leave the marsh, I would have spared them. But they fell for the Asag's tricks, and my friends had to feed. I wasn't going to stop them. It wouldn't have been nature's way." <<include "interrogatethurl">>

"The Asag were afraid of you," he answers. "I don't know why. So we kept our distance and watched, thinking to leave you alone until it became clear you were going to meddle. By then, they were hungrier, and they'd lost their fear of you." He pauses for a moment. "They were afraid of that other Mage, too." Could he be talking about Mimir? "The one in the temple?" you ask. But now he's gazing down at you thoughtfully, as if thinking over what he's going to do with you next. <<include "interrogatethurl">>

If his natural form is that of a ten-foot-tall, close-mouthed hulking brute, no wonder the villagers feared him, even as a child. "What does that matter?" Thurl asks. <<include "interrogatethurl">>

"You would have to ask them," Thurl answers indifferently. "But I suppose you arrived too late. The ones who would know are all dead now." <<include "interrogatethurl">>

"Many of them probably weren't directly involved in the killings," you say. "And many of them probably had regrets. And the vast majority of them had families. You may not have killed their children, but you still punished them: they're innocents who will now grow up without their parents." "Just as I did," Thurl replies pitilessly. "And what would you have done? <<nobr>><<if $invadethurl is true>> If faced with the opportunity to exact justice on those who killed your father? Is that not why you hunt the demons now?" <<else>> If your parents were murdered, and you had the opportunity to face their killers?" <br><br> "My father <i>was</i> murdered," you tell him. "By a demon." <br><br> Thurl eyes you, impassive. "And now you are a Shepherd," he answers. "A destroyer of demons." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "interrogatethurl">>

Thurl only stares at you stonily, unmoved and silent as the grave. <<include "interrogatethurl">>

"I do not care for your opinion," Thurl answers impassively, "but it is a pity that you did not patrol with the others and left Saranae to me. I have no quarrel with <i>you</i>." <<include "interrogatethurl">>

"And why would I do that?" Thurl asks stonily, entirely unmoved. "I have you within my grasp. You're in no position to impose any sentence at all on me." <<include "interrogatethurl">>

"Perhaps," Thurl says, his dark eyes gleaming. "And you are in a poor position: trapped in the grasp of an insane man." <<include "interrogatethurl">>

Except one thing: "So what happens now? What is it that you want with me?" Thurl has only killed the villagers he holds responsible for his parents' deaths—plus anyone else who got in his way. You prevented him from getting to Saranae, but does that mean he'll be inclined to kill you, too? Or is there any possibility that his peculiar code of honor will allow him to let you go? "You shouldn't have given chase," Thurl tells you quietly. "I only wanted the <i>heguman</i>. If you'd let me have her, or if you'd stayed back at the house, I wouldn't have done anything to you." Your gut clenches with fear. "So what <i>are</i> you doing to me?" you ask, your voice surprisingly steady and clear. "I am studying you," the murderer says blandly. "Changelings do our best work when we can observe our targets closely: it's why I couldn't fool you back in Wallmire. I had to base my impersonation off of observations made from afar. But now that I've had time to examine you, absorb your mannerisms, I'll take your shape and try for the <i>heguman</i> again. If your friends get in my way, I'll use the Asag as a distraction. Then, when their backs are turned, I'll cut their throats. They won't expect an attack from <i>you</i>." You shift a little, feeling the mud and damp soil squish against your elbows. "And me?" Thurl's voice is completely matter-of-fact. "You will stay here, so that my friends may gnaw on your bones." <<include "afterthurlinterrogate">>

<<nobr>><<if $freeyourselffromthurl is true>> Just then, you feel yourself slip free of his magic's hold, untangling yourself from his paralyzing enchantment with the ease and discreetness of a cat nimbly maneuvering through a tangle of thorns. You do it with such skill and finesse that you leave something like a mental decoy in your place: the arrogant bastard doesn't even realize that you're free of his control, though you don't have more than a few seconds to act before he finds out. <<else>> Your heart hurtles up into your throat. <</if>><</nobr>> <ul class="choices"> <<if $freeyourselffromthurl is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Attack him while his guard is down.</div>' 'attackthurlgurl'>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Attack him while his guard is down.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> /* <<if $godspeaker gt 0 and $democomplete is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Use a Word of Power to eradicate Thurl and all of the Asag in the area from existence.</div>' 'ending7i'>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Use a Word of Power to eradicate Thurl and all of the Asag in the area from existence.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> */ <li><<link 'Struggle in vain against his mental hold.' 'thurlfail'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Before Thurl has time to react, you explode into action, surging up from the grass in one savage, fluid motion. You need to end this as quickly and definitively as possible: if you give Thurl time to transform, you don't fancy your odds. A man—even a ten-foot-tall hulking man—is something you could confidently take. But a grizzly bear, a chimera with a scorpion tail, a golem with skin made of stone? No, you need to strike hard and fast so you don't give him the opportunity to shift shape. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Draw your $mainweapon.' 'drawyour7weapon'>><<if $mainweapon is "sword">><<if $strength gte 70 and $sword gte 70>><<setstrength +3>><<setsword +3>><<else>><<sethealth -20>><</if>><<elseif $mainweapon is "dagger">><<if $strength gte 70 and $dagger gte 70>><<setstrength +3>><<setdagger +3>><<else>><<sethealth -20>><</if>><<elseif $mainweapon is "gun">><<if $strength gte 70 and $gun gte 70>><<setstrength +3>><<setgun +3>><<else>><<sethealth -20>><</if>><<else>><<if $strength gte 70 and $bow gte 70>><<setstrength +3>><<setbow +3>><<else>><<sethealth -20>><</if>><</if>><</link>></li> <<if (($specialization is "battle" and $astral gte 50) or ($astral gte 65 and $magic gte 60)) and $democomplete is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Slam a flame-filled, superpowered fist into his face.</div>' 'reconvene'>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Slam a flame-filled, superpowered fist into his face.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($specialization is "healer" or $specialization is "elementalist") and ($magic gte 75 and $democomplete is true)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Rend most of the blood from his body.</div>' 'reconvene'>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Rend most of the blood from his body.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <<if (($specialization is "shifter" and $arcane gte 50) or ($arcane gte 65 and $magic gte 60)) and $democomplete is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Impale him with an adamantine lance formed out of your own arm.</div>' 'reconvene'>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Impale him with an adamantine lance formed out of your own arm.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <<if (($specialization is "elementalist" and $astral gte 50) or ($astral gte 65 and $magic gte 65)) and $democomplete is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Hurl a nearby boulder into him.</div>' 'reconvene'>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Hurl a nearby boulder into him.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <<if (($specialization is "binder" and $arcane gte 50) or ($magic gte 65 and $arcane gte 65)) and $democomplete is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Bind his limbs with a cage of magic.</div>' 'reconvene'>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Bind his limbs with a cage of magic.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> </ul>

<<nobr>> <<if $mainweapon is "sword">> <<if $strength gte 70 and $sword gte 70>> You draw your sword in a single gliding movement and lunge at Thurl. <br><br> His sheer size is against you, but it's also what slows him down: he stumbles back just in time to avoid being beheaded, but you feel the edge of your blade catch against the junction between his neck and shoulder and <i>bite</i>. Blood sprays into the air in a fine, sickly mist. Thurl grunts in surprise, but you don't let up, slashing diagonally at his chest, his forearm, your blade a flowing ripple of moonlight. Thurl lunges towards you, his hands now crooked into harsh, curved claws, but you're ready: you push your waist aside to dodge his strike, weight dropping into your left hip as your knee bends, your sword whispering upward blinding-fast, steadied by the palm of your non-dominant hand. You feel it bite again, tearing through the side of Thurl's ragged tunic and deep into his side, flicking outward in another neat arc of blood that makes him howl with fury. <br><br> Then you whirl, putting speed and momentum into the turn, and lash out one last time, slicing powerfully at a downward diagonal slant and cutting deep into Thurl's right thigh. The big man crumples to the ground instantly, roaring and clutching at his leg. Around him, the Asag shriek in a dozen different voices: "<i>Murderer! Monster! Beast! Wretch!</i>" One of the voices is identical to your own. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "drawyour7sword">><</link>></center> <<else>> You draw your sword and lunge at Thurl, but while you're quick, he's even quicker. Your sword bites into his shoulder, but then you feel a darting, lancing pain in your side—his entire left arm has turned into some kind of <i>snake</i>, and its teeth have latched onto your side. You can only hope it's not venomous. Grimly, you tear yourself away and dart forward again, hacking and slashing at the snake and severing it at what should be Thurl's elbow: its head falls into the grass and dies, but then his other arm—now some kind of pincer-claw—bashes into your face like a mallet. Snarling, you plunge ahead, stabbing again and again, half-blinded by the blood dripping into your eyes. You feel the tip of your blade biting into his flesh, stabbing sharply into Thurl's torso, shoulders, and stomach. He staggers back, raising his arms to defend himself, so you aim lower, hacking at his legs and thighs. It's not neat or pretty, but it gets the job done: the big man crumples, unable to support his immense weight once you drive your blade deep into his upper quadriceps. <br><br> You stand there for a moment, steaming with sweat and blood, sides heaving for breath as you stare at each other. Thurl's lips twitch as he watches you, his eyes ringed with staring white and the expression in them blank and utterly, totally mad. The bastard is amused—he's laughing at you! <br><br> "You'll never take me alive," he says, half-crouching in the grass and clutching his wounded arm. He says it pleasantly, matter-of-factly—but with just a tinge of mocking. <br><br> You spit some of the blood from your mouth. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"That\'s your first problem, rat. <i>I don\'t want you alive</i>." Kill him.' 'thatsyour7first'>><<fair_plus "$compassionate" -10>><<setloyal -5>><<setstrength +3>><<setcunning +3>><<setsword +3>><<set $thurldead to true>><<set $wallmire += 5>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"We\'ll see about that." Knock him out.' 'wellsee7about'>><<setcompassionate +5>><<fair_plus "$loyal" +10>><<setstrength +1>><</link>></li> </ul> <</if>> <<elseif $mainweapon is "dagger">> <br><br> <<if $strength gte 70 and $dagger gte 70>> You draw your dagger in a single darting movement and lunge at Thurl. <br><br> His sheer size is against you, but it's also what slows him down: he stumbles back just in time to avoid getting his throat slashed, but you feel the edge of your blade catch against the junction between his neck and shoulder and <i>bite</i>. Blood sprays into the air in a fine, sickly mist. Thurl grunts in surprise, but you don't let up, slashing diagonally at his chest, his forearm, your <<if $legendarydagger is true>> blades <<else>> blade <</if>> a quicksilver blur of motion and light. Thurl lunges towards you, his hands now crooked into harsh, curved claws, but you're ready: you push your waist aside to dodge his strike, weight dropping into your left hip as your knee bends, your knife whipping upward blinding-fast, steadied by the palm of your non-dominant hand. You feel it bite again, tearing through the side of Thurl's ragged tunic and slipping between his fourth and fifth rib, dragging sideways in a vicious motion that makes him howl with fury. Blood spurts outward again in a dark and violent arc. <br><br> Then you whirl, putting speed and momentum into the turn, and lash out one last time, slicing powerfully at a downward diagonal slant and slashing deep into Thurl's right thigh. The big man crumples to the ground instantly, roaring and clutching at his leg. Around him, the Asag shriek in a dozen different voices: "<i>Murderer! Monster! Beast! Wretch!</i>" One of the voices is identical to your own. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "drawyour7dagger">><</link>></center> <<else>> You draw your dagger and lunge at Thurl, but while you're quick, he's even quicker. Your knife bites into his shoulder, but then you feel a darting, lancing pain in your side—his entire left arm has turned into some kind of <i>snake</i>, and its teeth have latched onto your side. You can only hope it's not venomous. Grimly, you tear yourself away and dart forward again, hacking and slashing at the snake and severing it at what should be Thurl's elbow: its head falls into the grass and dies, but then his other arm—now some kind of pincer-claw—bashes into your face like a mallet. Snarling, you plunge ahead, stabbing again and again, half-blinded by the blood dripping into your eyes. You feel the tip of your blade biting into his flesh, stabbing sharply into Thurl's torso, shoulders, and stomach. He staggers back, raising his arms to defend himself, so you aim lower, hacking at his legs and thighs. It's not neat or pretty, but it gets the job done: the big man crumples, unable to support his immense weight once you drive your blade deep into his upper quadriceps. <br><br> You stand there for a moment, steaming with sweat and blood, sides heaving for breath as you stare at each other. Thurl's lips twitch as he watches you, his eyes ringed with staring white and the expression in them blank and utterly, totally mad. The bastard is amused—he's laughing at you! <br><br> "You'll never take me alive," he says, half-crouching in the grass and clutching his wounded arm. He says it pleasantly, matter-of-factly—but with just a tinge of mocking. <br><br> You spit some of the blood from your mouth. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"That\'s your first problem, rat. <i>I don\'t want you alive</i>." Kill him.' 'thats7daggerproblem'>><<fair_plus "$compassionate" -10>><<setloyal -5>><<setstrength +3>><<setcunning +3>><<setdagger +3>><<set $thurldead to true>><<set $wallmire += 5>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"We\'ll see about that." Knock him out.' 'wellsee7dagger'>><<setcompassionate +5>><<fair_plus "$loyal" +10>><<setstrength +1>><</link>></li> </ul> <</if>> <<elseif $mainweapon is "gun">> <<if $strength gte 70 and $gun gte 70>> You draw your gun in a single quickdraw motion and squeeze the trigger. <br><br> His sheer size is against you, but it's also what slows him down: he stumbles back just in time to avoid having his head blown off, but your bullet meets his shoulder and sends the big man spinning sideways with a thick, meaty impact. Blood sprays into the air in a fine, sickly mist. Thurl grunts in surprise, but you don't let up, firing from the hip once, twice, aiming at the hand that comes up to grasp his bleeding shoulder and then again at his lower torso. He dodges your first shot but not your second; then he lunges towards you, even larger than before and his hands crooked into harsh, curved claws, but you're ready: you throw yourself to the side, roll lightly, and then pop up and fire, barely taking the time to aim. Your next shot punches through his right side and shatters at least half of his ribs. Thurl gasps, but miraculously, he's still standing—he chose this form for its sturdiness, it seems. <br><br> Well. No creature on earth can withstand a blown-out kneecap. You rise to a stand, point your gun again, and fire, shooting Thurl's leg out from underneath him. The big man crumples to the ground instantly, roaring and clutching at the bleeding mess of his leg. Around him, the Asag shriek in a dozen different voices: "<i>Murderer! Monster! Beast! Wretch!</i>" One of the voices is identical to your own. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "draw7gunweapon">><</link>></center> <<else>> You draw your gun in a single quickdraw motion, but while you're quick, he's even quicker. Your first bullet punches into his shoulder, but then you feel a darting, lancing pain in your side—his entire left arm has turned into some kind of <i>snake</i>, and its teeth have latched onto your side. You can only hope it's not venomous. Grimly, you tear yourself away and dart forward again, firing at the snake and severing it at what should be Thurl's elbow: its head falls into the grass and dies, but then his other arm—now some kind of pincer-claw—bashes into your face like a mallet. Snarling, you plunge ahead, firing again and again, half-blinded by the blood dripping into your eyes. Through the red haze, you think one of your bullets pierces his side, grazes his hip. He staggers back, raising his arms to defend himself, so you aim lower, shooting haphazardly at his knees and legs. It's not neat or pretty, but it gets the job done: the big man crumples, unable to support his immense weight once one of your shots finally meets its mark and takes his knee out from right underneath him. <br><br> You stand there for a moment, steaming with sweat and blood, sides heaving for breath as you stare at each other. Thurl's lips twitch as he watches you, his eyes ringed with staring white and the expression in them blank and utterly, totally mad. The bastard is amused—he's laughing at you! <br><br> "You'll never take me alive," he says, half-crouching in the grass and clutching his wounded arm. He says it pleasantly, matter-of-factly—but with just a tinge of mocking. He doesn't even seem to have registered any pain. <br><br> You spit some of the blood from your mouth. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"That\'s your first problem, rat. <i>I don\'t want you alive</i>." Kill him.' 'thatsyoureproblem7gunrat'>><<fair_plus "$compassionate" -10>><<setloyal -5>><<setstrength +3>><<setcunning +3>><<setgun +3>><<set $thurldead to true>><<set $wallmire += 5>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"We\'ll see about that." Knock him out.' 'wellsee7gun'>><<setcompassionate +5>><<fair_plus "$loyal" +10>><<setstrength +1>><</link>></li> </ul> <</if>> <<else>> <<if $strength gte 70 and $bow gte 70>> You unsling your bow and throw yourself backwards, putting space in between you and Thurl as you reach to nock an arrow. <br><br> His sheer size is against you, but it's also what slows him down: he stumbles back just in time to avoid taking an arrow to the eyesocket, but your next one meets his shoulder and sends the big man spinning sideways with a hard <i>thunk</i>. Blood sprays into the air in a fine, sickly mist. Thurl grunts in surprise, but you don't let up, firing from your bow and making it sing with fury, aiming at the hand that comes up to grasp his bleeding shoulder and then again at his lower torso. He dodges your first shot but not your second; then he lunges towards you, even larger than before and his hands crooked into harsh, curved claws, but you're ready: you throw yourself to the side, roll lightly, and then pop up and fire, barely taking the time to aim. Your next shot punches through his right side and buries your wicked barbed arrow deep into his ribs. Thurl gasps, but miraculously, he's still standing—he chose this form for its sturdiness, it seems. <br><br> Well. No creature on earth can withstand an arrow to the knee. You rise to a stand, aim your bow again, and fire, shooting Thurl's leg out from underneath him with savage force. The big man crumples to the ground instantly, roaring and clutching at the arrow planted in his kneecap. Around him, the Asag shriek in a dozen different voices: "<i>Murderer! Monster! Beast! Wretch!</i>" One of the voices is identical to your own. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "drawyour7bowweapon">><</link>></center> <<else>> You unsling your bow in a single quickdraw motion, but while you're quick, he's even quicker. Your first arrow punches into his shoulder, but then you feel a darting, lancing pain in your side—his entire left arm has turned into some kind of <i>snake</i>, and its teeth have latched onto your side. You can only hope it's not venomous. Grimly, you tear yourself away and dart to the side again again, firing at the snake and severing it at what should be Thurl's elbow: its head falls into the grass and dies, but then his other arm—now some kind of pincer-claw—bashes into your face like a mallet. Snarling, you weave in a serpentine pattern, firing again and again, half-blinded by the blood dripping into your eyes. Through the red haze, you think one of your arrows pierces his side; one grazes his hip. He staggers back, raising his arms to defend himself, so you aim lower, shooting haphazardly at his knees and legs. It's not neat or pretty, but it gets the job done: the big man crumples, unable to support his immense weight once one of your shots finally meets its mark and takes his knee out from right underneath him. <br><br> You stand there for a moment, steaming with sweat and blood, sides heaving for breath as you stare at each other. Thurl's lips twitch as he watches you, his eyes ringed with staring white and the expression in them blank and utterly, totally mad. The bastard is amused—he's laughing at you! <br><br> "You'll never take me alive," he says, half-crouching in the grass and clutching his wounded arm. He says it pleasantly, matter-of-factly—but with just a tinge of mocking. He doesn't even seem to have registered any pain. <br><br> You spit some of the blood from your mouth. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"That\'s your first problem, rat. <i>I don\'t want you alive</i>." Kill him.' 'thatsfirst7bowproblem'>><<fair_plus "$compassionate" -10>><<setloyal -5>><<setstrength +3>><<setcunning +3>><<setbow +3>><<set $thurldead to true>><<set $wallmire += 5>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"We\'ll see about that." Knock him out.' 'wellsee7bow'>><<setcompassionate +5>><<fair_plus "$loyal" +10>><<setstrength +1>><</link>></li> </ul> <</if>> <</if>><</nobr>>

You set your blade against Thurl's throat as he kneels there, glaring up at you balefully, sides heaving like an animal's as he steams with sweat and blood. The Asag flutter closer, chittering their eagerness to move in, though whether it's because they sense his weakness or your distraction, you're not sure. Thurl stares at you, and now all pretense of indifference has dropped: his blank obsidian eyes are ringed with staring white, and they are utterly, completely mad. There's nothing in them but primal, atavistic hatred, pure murderous intent. You're very sure that if he weren't incapacitated, he'd take genuine pleasure in putting his hands around your neck and throttling the life out of you. There's foam gathering on his lips as he pants and gasps and heaves wordlessly, the muscles in his face twitching all over. He looks more maniacal than most Endarkened. "You'll never take me alive," he says as the Asag slowly move in: you feel the cold acidic brush of their approach against your back. His lips twitch as he says it, his eyes still staring, almost rolling like a horse's driven to madness through exertion and fear—but if he wasn't severely injured and bleeding, you'd almost think he was <i>laughing</i> at you. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'You smile at him, sharp and deadly and all glittering teeth. "That\'s your first problem, Thurl. <i>I don\'t want you alive</i>." Kill him.' 'yousmile7athim'>><<fair_plus "$compassionate" -10>><<setloyal -5>><<setstrength +3>><<setcunning +3>><<setsword +3>><<set $thurldead to true>><<set $wallmire += 5>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Tighten your grip on your sword. "We\'ll see about that." Knock him unconscious.' 'tightenyour7grip'>><<setcompassionate +5>><<fair_plus "$loyal" +10>><<setstrength +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Press your sword deeper against his throat. "Call the Asag off, turn yourself in quietly, and I\'ll ask for mercy on your behalf." Promise him clemency.' 'pressyour7sword'>><<fair_plus "$compassionate" +10>><<fair_plus "$loyal" +15>><<setcunning -3>><<if ($thurlpatience gte 3 and $swampclue gte 5) and ($berendalspendant is true or $charisma gte 80)>><<set $thurlmercy to true>><<set $wallmire to 0>><</if>><</link>></li> </ul>

It takes nothing at all to slash Thurl's throat open, letting him collapse to choke on his own blood. In mere seconds, it's over… and you watch intently as the light fades from his eyes and his convulsing, flopping body finally falls still. No illusions or last-minute shapeshifting to be found here. You make certain that he's well and truly dead. The expiring rattle of his lungs tells you all you need to know. The Asag surge forward in one dark wave… but not towards you. Not at first. Instead, they descend on Thurl's still-steaming corpse, eager for blood: you can hear their groaning and gasping as they latch onto his limbs, some of them beginning to swell in size like slugs as they absorb his flesh. You take advantage of their distractedness to cut them down from behind, slashing through their bodies as easily as slicing through mist. Some of them turn to you, with sailors' oaths or a priest's sermon or with the whimpering of a small, frightened child—but you ignore them and set grimly to work. The more you can kill, the less will be around to threaten Wallmire now that Thurl isn't around to control them. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "reconvene7">><<set $numberofasag -= 100>><<set $asaggone to true>><</link>></center>

You reverse your sword and strike him neatly in the temple with the pommel, knocking him out cold. Thurl's eyes roll back in his head, and he falls into the mud with a <i>thump</i>. The Asag immediately burst into motion, some of them scattering and fleeing into the trees now that Thurl is no longer in control. The other ones, the bigger and braver ones, lunge towards you, eager for blood. You keep your sword up and stab, again and again, a darting viper striking at a horde of rats. Although they crowd you, and some manage to singe you with their caustic touch, most of them dissolve as easily into the air as mist. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "reconvene7">><<sethealth -10>><<set $numberofasag -= 50>><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<if ($thurlpatience gte 3 and $swampclue gte 5) and ($berendalspendant is true or $charisma gte 80)>> "Otherwise, your story ends here," you tell him. "You think I can't take you alive? Fine. You either go willingly, or not at all. Is that what your parents would have wanted?" <br><br> Thurl's smile drops, and for a moment he simply kneels there, staring at you. You watch as the gears turn in his head, his face stony, unafraid… and calculating. <br><br> "You're telling the truth," he finally rumbles. <br><br> You nod. "I can't promise anything, but turning yourself in and cooperating goes a long way with the Autarch's people. And you have a… compelling story. If you avoid execution, even a long stint in the Ashen Vault seems preferable to living as a Tainted, alone in a swamp." <br><br> Thurl is quiet for a long, long moment. Then, finally, he nods, the tip of your blade drawing a single drop of blood with the movement. "Very well." <br><br> And at his glance, the Asag drift away, melting into the shadows beyond the trees, as if they had never existed at all. <br><br> You glance at them. "How do I know you simply won't use them to ambush us or the village again in the future?" <br><br> "I'm sending them away as a gesture of goodwill," Thurl answers, pressing a hand against his bleeding side with a grimace. "Back to the Realm-of-Ghosts. You or the Wallmirans can patrol the swamp and see for yourself, in a few days' time. And once they're far enough away, I'll no longer be able to control them." <br><br> He can't have changed his mind so easily—but even as you watch, that tinge of madness recedes behind a hard, canny look of rationality. "And your price for this service?" you ask warily. <br><br> "You don't kill me," Thurl says. "And you tell the Autarch my story. The <i>entire</i> story. Wallmire, the Changelings, what they did to my parents. All of it." He smiles bitterly. "It will be a better revenge than any I could have wrought on my own." <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "reconvene7">><<set $numberofasag -= 100>><<set $asaggone to true>><</link>></center> <<else>> Now Thurl does smile. "No." <br><br> And then the Asag do lunge at you, hooting and shrieking like monkeys, or groaning like sick men in infirmaries. You slash and hack at them, muttering spellwords and making them explode like balloons filled with too much air, but you're quickly mobbed by their overwhelming numbers—and Thurl disappears from sight. You dive through the caustic, burning smog of Asag bodies and spot him staggering to his feet, trying to limp away. From the way his shoulders are rippling, you think he might be trying to change shape and flee! <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Knock him out.' 'knockhim7out'>><<setcompassionate +5>><<if $strength gte 75>><<sethealth -15>><<else>><<sethealth -25>><<setreputation -5>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Kill him.' 'killthurl7him'>><<setcompassionate -5>><<if $strength gte 75>><<sethealth -15>><<set $thurldead to true>><<else>><<sethealth -25>><<setreputation -5>><</if>><</link>></li> </ul> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $strength gte 75>> You leap on his back before he can do so and clobber the hard pommelstone of your sword against his temple, knocking him out cold. Thurl immediately drops to the ground beneath you, taking you with him… and the rest of the Asag pile on top of you, swarming and seething. Their touch is stinging, corrosive: you grit your teeth and try to beat them back with your sword, but their numbers seem endless. <br><br> You're in a spot of trouble… <br><br> <<include "reunite2">> <<else>> You try to leap on his back, but you're too slow, and the press of Asag drag you back, their touch stinging and corrosive; you cry out in pain as you feel their cold, caustic essence right down to your bones. The Tainted continue to mob you, and you begin to sink beneath their weight… <br><br> <i>No! He's getting away!</i> <br><br> <<include "reunite3">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $strength gte 75>> You leap on his back and drag your sword messily across his throat. Thurl collapses immediately, gurgling unintelligibly as blood wells up from his neck, but the damage is done: not even a Changeling can undo a cut throat. He flops on the ground as you try to scramble up from his back… but the rest of the Asag pile on top of you, swarming and seething. <br><br> Their touch is stinging, corrosive: you grit your teeth and try to beat them back with your sword, but their numbers seem endless. <br><br> You're in a spot of trouble… <br><br> <<include "reunite2">> <<else>> You try to leap on his back, but you're too slow, and the press of Asag drag you back, their touch stinging and corrosive; you cry out in pain as you feel their cold, caustic essence right down to your bones. The Tainted continue to mob you, and you begin to sink beneath their weight… <br><br> <i>No! He's getting away!</i> <br><br> <<include "reunite3">> <</if>><</nobr>>

You reverse your sword and strike him neatly in the temple with the pommel, knocking him out cold. Thurl's eyes roll back in his head, and he falls into the mud with a <i>thump</i>. The Asag immediately burst into motion, most of them scattering and fleeing into the trees now that Thurl is no longer in control. The other ones, the bigger and braver ones, lunge towards you, eager for blood. You keep your sword up and stab, again and again, a darting viper striking at a horde of rats. Although they crowd you, and some manage to singe you with their caustic touch, most of them dissolve as easily into the air as mist. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "reconvene7">><<set $numberofasag -= 25>><</link>></center>

You set your knife-edge against Thurl's throat as he kneels there, glaring up at you balefully, sides heaving like an animal's as he steams with sweat and blood. The Asag flutter closer, chittering their eagerness to move in, though whether it's because they sense his weakness or your distraction, you're not sure. Thurl stares at you, and now all pretense of indifference has dropped: his blank obsidian eyes are ringed with staring white, and they are utterly, completely mad. There's nothing in them but primal, atavistic hatred, pure murderous intent. You're very sure that if he weren't incapacitated, he'd take genuine pleasure in putting his hands around your neck and throttling the life out of you. There's foam gathering on his lips as he pants and gasps and heaves wordlessly, the muscles in his face twitching all over. He looks more maniacal than most Endarkened. "You'll never take me alive," he says as the Asag slowly move in: you feel the cold acidic brush of their approach against your back. His lips twitch as he says it, his eyes still staring, almost rolling like a horse's driven to madness through exertion and fear—but if he wasn't severely injured and bleeding, you'd almost think he was <i>laughing</i> at you. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'You smile at him, sharp and deadly and all glittering teeth. "That\'s your first problem, Thurl. <i>I don\'t want you alive</i>." Kill him.' 'smileat7deadly'>><<fair_plus "$compassionate" -10>><<setloyal -5>><<setstrength +3>><<setcunning +3>><<setdagger +3>><<set $thurldead to true>><<set $wallmire += 5>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Tighten your grip on your dagger. "We\'ll see about that." Knock him unconscious.' 'tighten7daggergrip'>><<setcompassionate +5>><<fair_plus "loyal" +10>><<setstrength +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Press your knife deeper against his throat. "Call the Asag off, turn yourself in quietly, and I\'ll ask for mercy on your behalf." Promise him clemency.' 'pressyour7knife'>><<fair_plus "$compassionate" +10>><<fair_plus "$loyal" +15>><<setcunning -3>><<if ($thurlpatience gte 3 and $swampclue gte 5) and ($berendalspendant is true or $charisma gte 80)>><<set $thurlmercy to true>><<set $wallmire to 0>><</if>><</link>></li> </ul>

It takes nothing at all to slash Thurl's throat open, letting him collapse to choke on his own blood. In mere seconds, it's over… and you watch intently as the light fades from his eyes and his convulsing, flopping body finally falls still. No illusions or last-minute shapeshifting to be found here. You make certain that he's well and truly dead. The expiring rattle of his lungs tells you all you need to know. The Asag surge forward in one dark wave… but not towards you. Not at first. Instead, they descend on Thurl's still-steaming corpse, eager for blood: you can hear their groaning and gasping as they latch onto his limbs, some of them beginning to swell in size like slugs as they absorb his flesh. You take advantage of their distractedness to cut them down from behind, slashing through their bodies as easily as slicing your blade through mist. Some of them turn to you, with sailors' oaths or a priest's sermon or with the whimpering of a small, frightened child—but you ignore them and set grimly to work. The more you can kill, the less will be around to threaten Wallmire now that Thurl isn't around to control them. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "reconvene7">><<set $numberofasag -= 100>><<set $asaggone to true>><</link>></center>

You reverse your dagger and strike him neatly in the temple with the hilt, knocking him out cold. Thurl's eyes roll back in his head, and he falls into the mud with a <i>thump</i>. The Asag immediately burst into motion, some of them scattering and fleeing into the trees now that Thurl is no longer in control. The other ones, the bigger and braver ones, lunge towards you, eager for blood. You keep your knife up and whirl, slashing and cutting again and again, a darting viper striking at a horde of rats. Although they crowd you, and some manage to singe you with their caustic touch, most of them dissolve as easily into the air as mist. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "reconvene7">><<sethealth -10>><<set $numberofasag -= 50>><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<if ($thurlpatience gte 3 and $swampclue gte 5) and ($berendalspendant is true or $charisma gte 80)>> "Otherwise, your story ends here," you tell him. "You think I can't take you alive? Fine. You either go willingly, or not at all. Is that what your parents would have wanted?" <br><br> Thurl's smile drops, and for a moment he simply kneels there, staring at you. You watch as the gears turn in his head, his face stony, unafraid… and calculating. <br><br> "You're telling the truth," he finally rumbles. <br><br> You nod. "I can't promise anything, but turning yourself in and cooperating goes a long way with the Autarch's people. And you have a… compelling story. If you avoid execution, even a long stint in the Ashen Vault seems preferable to living as a Tainted, alone in a swamp." <br><br> Thurl is quiet for a long, long moment. Then, finally, he nods, the tip of your blade drawing a single drop of blood with the movement. "Very well." <br><br> And at his glance, the Asag drift away, melting into the shadows beyond the trees, as if they had never existed at all. <br><br> You glance at them. "How do I know you simply won't use them to ambush us or the village again in the future?" <br><br> "I'm sending them away as a gesture of goodwill," Thurl answers, pressing a hand against his bleeding side with a grimace. "Back to the Realm-of-Ghosts. You or the Wallmirans can patrol the swamp and see for yourself, in a few days' time. And once they're far enough away, I'll no longer be able to control them." <br><br> He can't have changed his mind so easily—but even as you watch, that tinge of madness recedes behind a hard, canny look of rationality. "And your price for this service?" you ask warily. <br><br> "You don't kill me," Thurl says. "And you tell the Autarch my story. The <i>entire</i> story. Wallmire, the Changelings, what they did to my parents. All of it." He smiles bitterly. "It will be a better revenge than any I could have wrought on my own." <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "reconvene7">><<set $numberofasag -= 100>><<set $asaggone to true>><</link>></center> <<else>> Now Thurl does smile. "No." <br><br> And then the Asag do lunge at you, hooting and shrieking like monkeys, or groaning like sick men in infirmaries. You slash and hack at them, muttering spellwords and making them explode like balloons filled with too much air, but you're quickly mobbed by their overwhelming numbers—and Thurl disappears from sight. You dive through the caustic, burning smog of Asag bodies and spot him staggering to his feet, trying to limp away. From the way his shoulders are rippling, you think he might be trying to change shape and flee! <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Knock him out.' 'knockhim7dagger'>><<setcompassionate +5>><<if $strength gte 75>><<sethealth -15>><<else>><<sethealth -25>><<setreputation -5>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Kill him.' 'killthurl7dagger'>><<setcompassionate -5>><<if $strength gte 75>><<sethealth -15>><<set $thurldead to true>><<else>><<sethealth -25>><<setreputation -5>><</if>><</link>></li> </ul> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $strength gte 75>> You leap on his back before he can do so and clobber the hard hilt of your dagger against his temple, knocking him out cold. Thurl immediately drops to the ground beneath you, taking you with him… and the rest of the Asag pile on top of you, swarming and seething. Their touch is stinging, corrosive: you grit your teeth and try to beat them back with your sword, but their numbers seem endless. <br><br> You're in a spot of trouble… <br><br> <<include "reunite2">> <<else>> You try to leap on his back, but you're too slow, and the press of Asag drag you back, their touch stinging and corrosive; you cry out in pain as you feel their cold, caustic essence right down to your bones. The Tainted continue to mob you, and you begin to sink beneath their weight… <br><br> <i>No! He's getting away!</i> <br><br> <<include "reunite3">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $strength gte 75>> You leap on his back and drag your knife messily across his throat. Thurl collapses immediately, gurgling unintelligibly as blood wells up from his neck, but the damage is done: not even a Changeling can undo a cut throat. He flops on the ground as you try to scramble up from his back… but the rest of the Asag pile on top of you, swarming and seething. <br><br> Their touch is stinging, corrosive: you grit your teeth and try to beat them back with your sword, but their numbers seem endless. <br><br> You're in a spot of trouble… <br><br> <<include "reunite2">> <<else>> You try to leap on his back, but you're too slow, and the press of Asag drag you back, their touch stinging and corrosive; you cry out in pain as you feel their cold, caustic essence right down to your bones. The Tainted continue to mob you, and you begin to sink beneath their weight… <br><br> <i>No! He's getting away!</i> <br><br> <<include "reunite3">> <</if>><</nobr>>

You reverse your dagger and strike him neatly in the temple with the hilt, knocking him out cold. Thurl's eyes roll back in his head, and he falls into the mud with a <i>thump</i>. The Asag immediately burst into motion, most of them scattering and fleeing into the trees now that Thurl is no longer in control. The other ones, the bigger and braver ones, lunge towards you, eager for blood. You keep your <<nobr>><<if $legendarydagger is true>> daggers <<else>> dagger <</if>><</nobr>> up and stab, again and again, a darting viper striking at a horde of rats. Although they crowd you, and some manage to singe you with their caustic touch, most of them dissolve as easily into the air as mist. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "reconvene7">><<set $numberofasag -= 25>><</link>></center>

You set the barrel of your gun against Thurl's forehead as he slumps on the ground, glaring up at you balefully, sides heaving like an animal's as he steams with sweat and blood. The Asag flutter closer, chittering their eagerness to move in, though whether it's because they sense his weakness or your distraction, you're not sure. Thurl stares at you, and now all pretense of indifference has dropped: his blank obsidian eyes are ringed with staring white, and they are utterly, completely mad. There's nothing in them but primal, atavistic hatred, pure murderous intent. You're very sure that if he weren't incapacitated, he'd take genuine pleasure in putting his hands around your neck and throttling the life out of you. There's foam gathering on his lips as he pants and gasps and heaves wordlessly, the muscles in his face twitching all over. He looks more maniacal than most Endarkened. "You'll never take me alive," he says as the Asag slowly move in: you feel the cold acidic brush of their approach against your back. His lips twitch as he says it, his eyes still staring, almost rolling like a horse's driven to madness through exertion and fear—but if he wasn't severely injured and bleeding, you'd almost think he was <i>laughing</i> at you. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'You smile at him, sharp and deadly and all glittering teeth. "That\'s your first problem, Thurl. <i>I don\'t want you alive</i>." Kill him.' 'yousmile7gun'>><<fair_plus "$compassionate" -10>><<setloyal -5>><<setstrength +3>><<setcunning +3>><<setgun +3>><<set $thurldead to true>><<set $wallmire += 5>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Tighten your grip on your gun. "We\'ll see about that." Knock him unconscious.' 'tighten7gungrip'>><<setcompassionate +5>><<fair_plus "$loyal" +10>><<setstrength +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Press your gun deeper against his forehead. "Call the Asag off, turn yourself in quietly, and I\'ll ask for mercy on your behalf." Promise him clemency.' 'pressyour7gun'>><<fair_plus "$compassionate" +10>><<fair_plus "$loyal" +15>><<setcunning -3>><<if ($thurlpatience gte 3 and $swampclue gte 5) and ($berendalspendant is true or $charisma gte 80)>><<set $thurlmercy to true>><<set $wallmire to 0>><</if>><</link>></li> </ul>

It takes nothing at all to pull the trigger and put a bullet through Thurl's brain, letting him collapse in the ruins of his own skull. You watch intently as the light fades from his lolling eyes and his convulsing, flopping body finally falls still. No illusions or last-minute shapeshifting to be found here. You make certain that he's well and truly dead. The expiring rattle of his lungs tells you all you need to know, the last twitching and firing of dying nerves a final salvo as his spirit departs this world forever. The Asag surge forward in one dark wave… but not towards you. Not at first. Instead, they descend on Thurl's still-steaming corpse, eager for blood: you can hear their groaning and gasping as they latch onto his limbs, some of them beginning to swell in size like slugs as they absorb his flesh. You take advantage of their distractedness to mow them down from behind, firing through their bodies as easily as shooting through mist. Some of them turn to you, with sailors' oaths or a priest's sermon or with the whimpering of a small, frightened child—but you ignore them and set grimly to work. The more you can kill, the less will be around to threaten Wallmire now that Thurl isn't around to control them. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "reconvene7">><<set $numberofasag -= 100>><<set $asaggone to true>><</link>></center>

You reverse your gun and smash the butt of it into his temple, knocking him out cold. Thurl's eyes roll back in his head, and he falls into the mud with a <i>thump</i>. The Asag immediately burst into motion, some of them scattering and fleeing into the trees now that Thurl is no longer in control. The other ones, the bigger and braver ones, lunge towards you, eager for blood. You keep your gun up and fire, again and again, your muzzle spitting out a long line of bullets in a strange, rattling song. Although they crowd you, and some manage to singe you with their caustic touch, most of them dissolve as easily into the air as your own gunsmoke. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "reconvene7">><<set $numberofasag -= 50>><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<if ($thurlpatience gte 3 and $swampclue gte 5) and ($berendalspendant is true or $charisma gte 80)>> "Otherwise, your story ends here," you tell him. "You think I can't take you alive? Fine. You either go willingly, or not at all. Is that what your parents would have wanted?" <br><br> Thurl's smile drops, and for a moment he simply kneels there, staring at you. You watch as the gears turn in his head, his face stony, unafraid… and calculating. <br><br> "You're telling the truth," he finally rumbles. <br><br> You nod. "I can't promise anything, but turning yourself in and cooperating goes a long way with the Autarch's people. And you have a… compelling story. If you avoid execution, even a long stint in the Ashen Vault seems preferable to living as a Tainted, alone in a swamp." <br><br> Thurl is quiet for a long, long moment. Then, finally, he nods, the edge of your gun forming an indent on his skin with the movement. "Very well." <br><br> And at his glance, the Asag drift away, melting into the shadows beyond the trees, as if they had never existed at all. <br><br> You glance in their direction. "How do I know you simply won't use them to ambush us or the village again in the future?" <br><br> "I'm sending them away as a gesture of goodwill," Thurl answers, pressing a hand against his bleeding side with a grimace. "Back to the Realm-of-Ghosts. You or the Wallmirans can patrol the swamp and see for yourself, in a few days' time. And once they're far enough away, I'll no longer be able to control them." <br><br> He can't have changed his mind so easily—but even as you watch, that tinge of madness recedes behind a hard, canny look of rationality. "And your price for this service?" you ask warily. <br><br> "You don't kill me," Thurl says. "And you tell the Autarch my story. The <i>entire</i> story. Wallmire, the Changelings, what they did to my parents. All of it." He smiles bitterly. "It will be a better revenge than any I could have wrought on my own." <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "reconvene2">><<set $numberofasag -= 100>><<set $asaggone to true>><</link>></center> <<else>> Now Thurl does smile. "No." <br><br> And then the Asag do lunge at you, hooting and shrieking like monkeys, or groaning like sick men in infirmaries. You raise your gun and fire a long staccato burst of bullets, muttering spellwords and making them explode like balloons filled with too much air, but you're quickly mobbed by their overwhelming numbers—and Thurl disappears from sight. You dive through the caustic, burning smog of Asag bodies and spot him staggering to his feet, trying to limp away. From the way his shoulders are rippling, you think he might be trying to change shape and flee! <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Knock him out.' 'knockhim7gun'>><<setcompassionate +5>><<if $strength gte 15>><<sethealth -15>><<else>><<sethealth -25>><<setreputation -5>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Kill him.' 'killthurl7gun'>><<setcompassionate -5>><<if $strength gte 75>><<sethealth -15>><<set $thurldead to true>><<else>><<sethealth -25>><<setreputation -5>><</if>><</link>></li> </ul> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $strength gte 75>> You leap on his back before he can do so and clobber the hard butt of your gun against his temple, knocking him out cold. Thurl immediately drops to the ground beneath you, taking you with him… and the rest of the Asag pile on top of you, swarming and seething. Their touch is stinging, corrosive: you grit your teeth and try to beat them back with your sword, but their numbers seem endless. <br><br> You're in a spot of trouble… <br><br> <<include "reunite2">> <<else>> You try to leap on his back, but you're too slow, and the press of Asag drag you back, their touch stinging and corrosive; you cry out in pain as you feel their cold, caustic essence right down to your bones. The Tainted continue to mob you, and you begin to sink beneath their weight… <br><br> <i>No! He's getting away!</i> <br><br> <<include "reunite3">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $strength gte 75>> You point your gun and put a bullet in the back of his head. Thurl collapses immediately, gurgling unintelligibly as his smoking, ruined nerves jangle and misfire, but the damage is done: not even a Changeling can undo a bullet in the brain. He flops on the ground as you kick his leg, just to make sure he won't miraculously get up… but then the rest of the Asag pile on top of you, swarming and seething. <br><br> Their touch is stinging, corrosive: you grit your teeth and try to blast through their ranks with your gun, but their numbers seem endless. <br><br> You're in a spot of trouble… <br><br> <<include "reunite2">> <<else>> You try to aim your gun at him, but you're too slow, and the press of Asag knocks you off-balance, their touch stinging and corrosive; you cry out in pain as you feel their cold, caustic essence right down to your bones. The Tainted continue to mob you, and you begin to sink beneath their weight… <br><br> <i>No! He's getting away!</i> <br><br> <<include "reunite3">> <</if>><</nobr>>

It takes nothing at all to pull the trigger and put a bullet through Thurl's brain, letting him collapse in the ruins of his own skull. You watch intently as the light fades from his lolling eyes and his convulsing, flopping body finally falls still. No illusions or last-minute shapeshifting to be found here. You make certain that he's well and truly dead. The expiring rattle of his lungs tells you all you need to know, the last twitching and firing of dying nerves a final salvo as his spirit departs this world forever. The Asag surge forward in one dark wave… but not towards you. Not at first. Instead, they descend on Thurl's still-steaming corpse, eager for blood: you can hear their groaning and gasping as they latch onto his limbs, some of them beginning to swell in size like slugs as they absorb his flesh. You take advantage of their distractedness to mow them down from behind, firing through their bodies as easily as cutting through mist. Some of them turn to you, with sailors' oaths or a priest's sermon or with the whimpering of a small, frightened child—but you ignore them and set grimly to work. The more you can kill, the less will be around to threaten Wallmire now that Thurl isn't around to control them. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "reconvene7">><<set $numberofasag -= 75>><</link>></center>

You align your arrow right at the center of Thurl's forehead as he slumps on the ground, glaring up at you balefully, sides heaving like an animal's as he steams with sweat and blood. The Asag flutter closer, chittering their eagerness to move in, though whether it's because they sense his weakness or your distraction, you're not sure. Thurl stares at you, and now all pretense of indifference has dropped: his blank obsidian eyes are ringed with staring white, and they are utterly, completely mad. There's nothing in them but primal, atavistic hatred, pure murderous intent. You're very sure that if he weren't incapacitated, he'd take genuine pleasure in putting his hands around your neck and throttling the life out of you. There's foam gathering on his lips as he pants and gasps and heaves wordlessly, the muscles in his face twitching all over. He looks more maniacal than most Endarkened. "You'll never take me alive," he says as the Asag slowly move in: you feel the cold acidic brush of their approach against your back. His lips twitch as he says it, his eyes still staring, almost rolling like a horse's driven to madness through exertion and fear—but if he wasn't severely injured and bleeding, you'd almost think he was <i>laughing</i> at you. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'You smile at him, sharp and deadly and all glittering teeth. "That\'s your first problem, Thurl. <i>I don\'t want you alive</i>." Kill him.' 'yousmile7bow'>><<fair_plus "$compassionate" -10>><<setloyal -5>><<setstrength +3>><<setcunning +3>><<setbow +3>><<set $thurldead to true>><<set $wallmire += 5>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Lower your bow. "We\'ll see about that." Knock him unconscious.' 'loweryour7bow'>><<setcompassionate +5>><<fair_plus "$loyal" +10>><<setstrength +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Move closer and line your arrow right up against his eyeball. "Call the Asag off, turn yourself in quietly, and I\'ll ask for mercy on your behalf." Promise him clemency.' 'movecloser7and'>><<fair_plus "$compassionate" +10>><<fair_plus "$loyal" +15>><<setcunning -3>><<if ($thurlpatience gte 3 and $swampclue gte 5) and ($berendalspendant is true or $charisma gte 80)>><<set $thurlmercy to true>><<set $wallmire to 0>><</if>><</link>></li> </ul>

It takes nothing at all to loose your bowstring and drive your arrow deep into Thurl's brain, letting him collapse in the ruins of his own skull. You watch intently as the light fades from his lolling eyes and his convulsing, flopping body finally falls still. No illusions or last-minute shapeshifting to be found here. You make certain that he's well and truly dead. The expiring rattle of his lungs tells you all you need to know, the last twitching and firing of dying nerves a final salvo as his spirit departs this world forever. The Asag surge forward in one dark wave… but not towards you. Not at first. Instead, they descend on Thurl's still-steaming corpse, eager for blood: you can hear their groaning and gasping as they latch onto his limbs, some of them beginning to swell in size like slugs as they absorb his flesh. You take advantage of their distractedness to mow them down from behind, firing through their bodies as easily as shooting through mist. Some of them turn to you, with sailors' oaths or a priest's sermon or with the whimpering of a small, frightened child—but you ignore them and set grimly to work. The more you can kill, the less will be around to threaten Wallmire now that Thurl isn't around to control them. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "reconvene7">><<set $numberofasag -= 100>><<set $asaggone to true>><</link>></center>

You whirl and spin-kick Thurl hard in the temple, knocking him out cold. The man's eyes roll back in his head, and he falls into the mud with a <i>thump</i>. The Asag immediately burst into motion, some of them scattering and fleeing into the trees now that Thurl is no longer in control. The other ones, the bigger and braver ones, lunge towards you, eager for blood. You swing your bow up again and fire, again and again, sending volley after volley to pierce their bodies while your bowstring whistles like a triumphant hawk. Although they crowd you, and some manage to singe you with their caustic touch, most of them dissolve as easily into the air as mist. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "reconvene7">><<set $numberofasag -= 50>><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<if ($thurlpatience gte 3 and $swampclue gte 5) and ($berendalspendant is true or $charisma gte 80)>> "Otherwise, your story ends here," you tell him. "You think I can't take you alive? Fine. You either go willingly, or not at all. Is that what your parents would have wanted?" <br><br> Thurl's smile drops, and for a moment he simply kneels there, staring at you. You watch as the gears turn in his head, his face stony, unafraid… and calculating. <br><br> "You're telling the truth," he finally rumbles. <br><br> You nod. "I can't promise anything, but turning yourself in and cooperating goes a long way with the Autarch's people. And you have a… compelling story. If you avoid execution, even a long stint in the Ashen Vault seems preferable to living as a Tainted, alone in a swamp." <br><br> Thurl is quiet for a long, long moment. Then, finally, he nods, the deadly tip of your arrow tracking his eyeball with the movement. "Very well." <br><br> And at his glance, the Asag drift away, melting into the shadows beyond the trees, as if they had never existed at all. <br><br> You glance in their direction. "How do I know you simply won't use them to ambush us or the village again in the future?" <br><br> "I'm sending them away as a gesture of goodwill," Thurl answers, pressing a hand against his bleeding side with a grimace. "Back to the Realm-of-Ghosts. You or the Wallmirans can patrol the swamp and see for yourself, in a few days' time. And once they're far enough away, I'll no longer be able to control them." <br><br> He can't have changed his mind so easily—but even as you watch, that tinge of madness recedes behind a hard, canny look of rationality. "And your price for this service?" you ask warily. <br><br> "You don't kill me," Thurl says. "And you tell the Autarch my story. The <i>entire</i> story. Wallmire, the Changelings, what they did to my parents. All of it." He smiles bitterly. "It will be a better revenge than any I could have wrought on my own." <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "reconvene2">><<set $numberofasag -= 100>><<set $asaggone to true>><</link>></center> <<else>> Now Thurl does smile. "No." <br><br> And then the Asag do lunge at you, hooting and shrieking like monkeys, or groaning like sick men in infirmaries. You raise your arrow and fire a quick flurry of arrows, muttering spellwords and making them explode like balloons filled with too much air, but you're quickly mobbed by their overwhelming numbers—and Thurl disappears from sight. You dive through the caustic, burning smog of Asag bodies and spot him staggering to his feet, trying to limp away. From the way his shoulders are rippling, you think he might be trying to change shape and flee! <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Knock him out.' 'knockhim7bow'>><<setcompassionate +5>><<if $strength gte 75>><<sethealth -15>><<else>><<sethealth -25>><<setreputation -5>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Kill him.' 'killthurl7bow'>><<setcompassionate -5>><<if $strength gte 75>><<sethealth -15>><<set $thurldead to true>><<else>><<sethealth -25>><<setreputation -5>><</if>><</link>></li> </ul> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $strength gte 75>> You leap on his back before he can do so and punch him as hard as you can in the temple, knocking him out cold. Thurl immediately drops to the ground beneath you, taking you with him… and the rest of the Asag pile on top of you, swarming and seething. Their touch is stinging, corrosive: you grit your teeth and try to beat them back with your bow, but their numbers seem endless. <br><br> You're in a spot of trouble… <br><br> <<include "reunite2">> <<else>> You try to leap on his back, but you're too slow, and the press of Asag drag you back, their touch stinging and corrosive; you cry out in pain as you feel their cold, caustic essence right down to your bones. The Tainted continue to mob you, and you begin to sink beneath their weight… <br><br> <i>No! He's getting away!</i> <br><br> <<include "reunite3">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $strength gte 75>> You point your bow and put an arrow through the back of his head. Thurl collapses immediately, gurgling unintelligibly as his shattered, ruined nerves jangle and misfire, but the damage is done: not even a Changeling can undo a arrow in the brain. He flops on the ground as you kick his leg, just to make sure he won't miraculously get up… but then the rest of the Asag pile on top of you, swarming and seething. <br><br> Their touch is stinging, corrosive: you grit your teeth and try to thin their ranks with your arrows, but their numbers seem endless. <br><br> You're in a spot of trouble… <br><br> <<include "reunite2">> <<else>> You try to aim your bow at him, but you're too slow, and the press of Asag knocks you off-balance, their touch stinging and corrosive; you cry out in pain as you feel their cold, caustic essence right down to your bones. The Tainted continue to mob you, and you begin to sink beneath their weight… <br><br> <i>No! He's getting away!</i> <br><br> <<include "reunite3">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<achieve "achieve_capgras">><<notify_achievement "Capgras" "Broke free of Thurl's hold and defeated him single-handedly.">><<friendshipcalc>><<romancecalc>><<setreputation +5>><</nobr>>"<<c firstname>>!" You don't know how long you fight before you hear the sound of someone calling your name. You look up to find only a few of the Asag remaining, grouped into a tight little cluster separating you from the edge of the glade. At their outer perimeter, there's a flurry of violence and activity—Asag bodies literally go flying before evaporating like ghosts—that heralds the arrival of your reinforcements. <<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 35 and $highestromance is "blade">> You see Blade there, his sword a deadly blur of quicksilver motion, and he catches your eye and yells your name again. The sheer fear and desperation in his voice—and the look of hard, hurtling panic on his face—is almost enough to crack your heart in half. He slices through one last Asag and then sprints full-tilt at you; you come running and fly into his arms. He immediately leans back, but only to scan your face and look you over for injuries; the expression on his face is both angry and worried, his breathing harsher than you've ever heard it, but his touch is gentle as he brushes the hair out of your eyes. <br><br> "Are you all right?" he demands, his fingers on your cheek careful and tender but his voice hard and fierce as he grips your shoulder and half-shakes you with his other hand. The clench of his jaw and the thunderous look of concern on his face tells you all you need to know about what he's been going through since you disappeared after Thurl. "<i>Did he hurt you</i>?" <br><br> Someone clears their throat, and you instantly pull away from each other, embarrassed. <br><br> <<include "fivesacrowd">> <<elseif $troubleromanceflag gte 25 and $highestromance is "trouble">> You see Trouble there, his gun blazing in his hand with light and fire, and he catches your eye and yells your name again. The heartfelt fear, relief, and desperation in his voice—and the renewed, reckless way he throws himself at the Asag to get to you—is almost enough to crack your heart in half. He shoots through one last Asag and then sprints full-tilt at you; you come running and fly into his arms. He immediately clinches you in an embrace that squeezes the breath out of you, pressing his face in the crook between your neck and shoulder with unabashed '<i>praise God</i>' relief. <br><br> "You scared the shit out of me," he mumbles into your hair, his arms wonderfully tight around you as he crushes you against him. "Don't you <i>ever</i> do that again, you hear me? I could throttle you myself, you incredible, wondrous, <i>stupid</i>—" <br><br> Someone clears their throat, and you instantly pull away from each other, embarrassed. <br><br> <<include "fivesacrowd">> <<elseif $redromanceflag gte 25 and $highestromance is "red">> You see Red there, his warhammer swinging and blazing with magic, and he catches your eye and shouts your name again. The sheer and utter knee-collapsing relief in his voice—and then the grim, determined anger with which he kills the Asag, as if impatient with them for daring to stand between you—is almost enough to crack your heart in half. He smashes through one last Asag and then sprints full-tilt at you; you come running and fly into his arms. He immediately cups your face in his large, warm hands, his concerned eyes roaming over your features as he checks you over for injuries. Then he presses his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your lips as he breathes, "I about lost my mind with worry when I found out you were gone. What on <i>earth</i> possessed you to do that? And what do I have to do to make sure you <i>never</i> do it again?" <br><br> Someone clears their throat, and you instantly pull away from each other, embarrassed. <br><br> <<include "fivesacrowd">> <<elseif $chaseromanceflag gte 30 and $highestromance is "chase">> You see Chase there, one hand blazing with gunfire while the other wields his deadly-sharp dagger, and he catches your eye and calls your name again. The sheer look of raw, blank anger on his face, the clench in his jaw and the mad, mechanical way he decimates the Asag is almost enough to crack your heart in half. He slices through one last Asag and then sprints full-tilt at you; you come running and fly into his arms. The embrace lasts only for a moment before he pulls back and grabs you by the shoulders, almost painfully hard, and grips you fiercely, checking you over for injuries. His eyes, when they meet yours, look completely foreign to you: the pupils are dilated so widely that they almost turn his eyes black, and the gaze in them is savage, remote, and full of cold fury. <br><br> "Where is he?" he demands harshly, almost barking it. "Is he dead? <i>Did he hurt you</i>?" <br><br> Someone clears their throat, and you instantly pull away from each other, though the strange, furious look doesn't leave Chase's face. <br><br> <<include "fivesacrowd">> <<elseif ($highestfriendship is "blade" or $highestfriendship is "chase") or ($highestfriendship is "trouble" or $highestfriendship is "red")>> <<c highestfriendship>> is standing there, fighting through the Endarkened, and the way his expression lightens with sincere relief and gladness at the sight of you makes your stomach swoop with the same emotions. It takes only a few more moments for you to fight your way towards each other, the last Asag melting before you like smoke, and then he's reaching out and gripping your shoulder in one strong, familiar clasp. <br><br> "Are you all right?" he demands, looking you over intently. "Are you injured?" <br><br> The others come running up, steaming in the chill night air and looking wild-eyed and bedraggled, but otherwise unharmed. There are various exclamations of relief and joy at the sight of you intact—$highestfriendship squeezes your shoulder one more time, imparting an unspoken message of friendship, gladness, and the connectedness of comrades reuniting on the battlefield—before you turn to business, enfolded once more in the group's circle of safety and trust. <br><br> <<include "imnot7hurt">> <<else>> The others are standing there, fighting through the Endarkened, and the way their expressions lighten with relief at the sight of you makes your own stomach swoop with gladness. It takes only a few more moments for you to fight your way towards each other, the last Asag melting before you like smoke, and then you're together again. The four of them are breathing hard, as if they've had a hard run, steaming in the chill night air and looking rather wild-eyed, but they seem otherwise unharmed. <br><br> <<include "imnot7hurt">> <</if>><</nobr>>

The others are standing there, breathing hard and looking wild-eyed and steaming in the chill night air, but everyone seems otherwise intact and unharmed. They come forward to give you their own once-overs, clasping you familiarly on the shoulder or ruffling your hair with murmured exclamations of relief or chastisement, before you force yourselves to turn back to business. <<include "imnot7hurt">>

"I'm not hurt," you say, answering the unspoken question. "At least not physically. He"—you nod at Thurl's <<nobr>><<if $thurldead is true>> huddled corpse—"broke <<else>> unconscious body—"broke <</if>><</nobr>> into Saranae's house, disguised… he's the son of Berendal and Lyden, so he's part Changeling, part Enchanter, and he was intent on taking Saranae as what was supposedly his last vengeance killing. I caught him midway into attempting it, so he tried to flee before he managed to hurt her, and I pursued… and now here we are." You give a short explanation of everything else you learned from Thurl before your struggle broke out; Blade dispatches the others to secure the area in the meantime. "All clear," Trouble says once he's made a sweep. <<nobr>><<if $numberofasag is 0 and $asaggone is true>> "Looks like <<c firstname>> completely destroyed all of the Asag in the area. I wouldn't be surprised if they were all eradicated permanently." <br><br> "Guess we never should have run from them earlier today," Chase says, <<if $highestromance is "chase" and $chaseromanceflag gte 30>> though the angry look of him still hasn't quite faded and his voice is more serious than usual. "We could have just sicced <<c firstname>> on them and let $them wipe them out." <<else>> nudging you. "We could have just sicced <<c firstname>> on them and let $them wipe them out." <</if>> <br><br> "They'd ambushed us in unfamiliar territory and in bad weather," Blade answers, addressing the matter with his usual militaristic seriousness. "Cutting our losses and running instead of risking it all on one last stand when we didn't know what we were up against was the right decision at the time. Besides, we might not have found Mimir if we had stayed to fight." <br><br> "He's joking, Blade." Trouble turns to survey Thurl with an undisguised expression of loathing and disgust. <<if $thurldead is false>> While you were preoccupied with debriefing and securing the perimeter, Red took the time to bind him magically with inescapable containment spells and negated his ability to use magic or enchantments. The only worry is if his shapeshifting will have some unforeseen effect, allowing him to somehow circumvent the bindings, but Red believes he can prevent this by keeping him unconscious until you return to Wallmire. <</if>> "So this is the <i>muti</i> who killed all of those people in Wallmire? The one who hurt Kaidir and them?" <br><br> <<include "youglance7at">> <<elseif $numberofasag is 25>> "Looks like <<c firstname>> got nearly all of them: a few got away and ran off into the swamp. I don't think they'll be a threat to Wallmire anymore." <br><br> <<include "troublesdisgust">> <<elseif $numberofasag is 50>> "Some of them got away, but <<c firstname>> took out a big chunk of them. Hopefully they won't return to threaten Wallmire again." <br><br> <<include "troublesdisgust">> <<else>> "Most of them got away and took off into the swamp. I really hope they won't return to threaten Wallmire again, or any other place around here, but nothing we can do about it now—they're all scattered." <br><br> <<include "troublesdisgust">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Then he turns to survey Thurl with an undisguised expression of loathing and disgust. <<nobr>><<if $thurldead is false>> While you were preoccupied with debriefing and securing the perimeter, Red took the time to bind him magically with inescapable containment spells and negated his ability to use magic or enchantments. The only worry is if his shapeshifting will have some unforeseen effect, allowing him to somehow circumvent the bindings, but Red believes he can prevent this by keeping him unconscious until you return to Wallmire. <</if>><</nobr>> "So this is the <i>muti</i> who killed all of those people in Wallmire? The one who hurt Kaidir and them?" <<include "youglance7at">>

You glance at the big man's crumpled body. "In the end, he was only a Terror when we didn't know what he <i>was</i>. Once stripped of all of his tricks and secrets, he was just a man. An Enchanter and a Changeling, sure—but we've faced down demons almost as powerful as gods. When you strip him of his mystery and theater, he's just… the son of murdered parents, living in a swamp and seeking revenge. Just a mortal, after all." "A mortal who still managed to kill half a village," Blade murmurs. "A son capable of controlling a horde of Tainted, something I'm not sure has ever been accomplished before—at least not to such success and scope. You do yourself too little credit, <<c firstname>>." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"A Shepherd should always be humble, Commander."' 'ashepherd7should'>><<setcharisma +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'m the Hero of Haven. He was nothing."' 'imthe7hero'>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setreputation +1>><<settrouble -3>><<setblade -3>><<setchase +1>><<setloyal -5>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"We all played our part in this. The triumph is not mine alone."' 'weall7played'>><<setcompassionate +5>><<setred +3>><<settrouble +3>><<setloyal +5>><<setblade +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'m just glad it\'s over."' 'imjust7glad'>><</link>></li> </ul>

<<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 35 and $highestromance is "blade">> He doesn't smile, still too hard and preoccupied with his simmering anger for that, but you think you catch just a hint of softness in his eyes when he looks at you. <br><br> "True enough," Trouble butts in, nudging you in a genial manner. You all seem suspended in a strange zone between giddy relief, disbelief that it's really over, leftover adrenaline, and tense wariness and half-expectation of anything that might come next. Then his expression sobers as you all turn to look at Thurl again. <<else>> You're rewarded with just the faintest impression of a smile. <br><br> "Very good, $rank," he returns formally while the others laugh. You all seem suspended in a strange zone between giddy relief, disbelief that it's really over, leftover adrenaline, and tense wariness and half-expectation of anything that might come next. Then his expression sobers as you all turn to look at Thurl again. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "ithink7blade">>

"True enough," Trouble says with an unsteady laugh. Then his expression sobers as you all turn to look at Thurl again. <<include "ithink7blade">>

<<nobr>><<if $chaseromanceflag gte 30 and $highestromance is "chase">> "You're just being humble," Chase mutters, blinking rapidly. It seems like he's returning more to himself again. <<else>> "Eh, you're just being humble," Chase quips. <</if>><</nobr>> "You're the one who figured the whole mystery out, and you're the one who took down Thurl." "You know, that's pretty much always the story with $them," Red comments humorously. "Literally any mission we're on, it's always <<c firstname>> who's the lynchpin, the driving force, the one who saves the day. We're all just kind of there to <i>help</i>. If this were a novel, $she'd be…" "The main character," Trouble finishes with a laugh. "Definitely. The rest of us are just the supporting cast." "That isn't true," you start to protest—you can think of plenty of missions where it was the other way around—but they all seem to find this idea outrageously funny, because they keep agreeing with each other and laughing about it; even Blade cracks a very faint smile. You all seem suspended in a strange zone between giddy relief, disbelief that it's really over, leftover adrenaline, and tense wariness and half-expectation of whatever might come next. It's a little like mania and hysteria mixed with battle-jitters and trigger-hair alertness. Then the expressions around you sober as you all turn to look at Thurl again. <<include "ithink7blade">>

<<nobr>><<if $red gte 70>> Red reaches over and rubs your shoulder comfortingly. "You did good, <<c halfname2>>," he says softly. <<if $bladeromanceflag gte 30>> There's a creak of leather from Blade as he shifts, his face suspiciously expressionless, before he turns away. <</if>> <<if $chaseromanceflag gte 35>> Chase's face is carefully expressionless as he looks at you both. <</if>> <<if $troubleromanceflag gte 25>> Beside you, Trouble nods emphatically, though he frowns once at Red's hand before he looks away. <</if>> <<else>> Red sighs and runs a hand through his hair. "We still have to go back to Wallmire," he points out. <</if>><</nobr>> The expressions around you sober as you all turn to look at Thurl again. <<include "ithink7blade">>

<<nobr>><<if $thurldead is true>> "I think," Blade says slowly, "the Wallmirans have a lot of explaining to do." <br><br> You nod, almost too weary to contemplate what lies ahead. There have been so many secrets and complexities uncovered tonight that it's almost enough to make your head spin. <br><br> "Let's take his body back," you say, "so we can finally put their Terror to rest and give them some measure of peace again. But then we'll have to deal with some uglier business: what are we going to do, knowing what we know now?" <br><br> "That's a question for when we're back in the village," Trouble says adamantly. "Come on. Let's put an end to this and finally go the fuck <i>home</i>." <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Back to Wallmire</span></div></div>' "backtowallmire">><</link>></center> <<else>> "What are we going to do with him?" Trouble asks softly. <br><br> "That's a question for when we're back in the village," Blade says determinedly. "For now, let's focus on transporting him back without allowing him any opportunity to escape. Once he's safely locked up somewhere, we can discuss his fate." <br><br> "I'll translocate ahead with him," Red says. "Then we can put an end to this nightmare and finally go home." <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Back to Wallmire</span></div></div>' "backtowallmire">><</link>></center> <</if>><</nobr>>

/* original comments: do you want me to set wallmire to 0 here in actuality? *comment group comes in, but thurl is alive and conscious *comment *set wallmire 0 */ <<include "ending7i5">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>"<<c firstname>>!"</span></div></div>' "reunite2i">><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<romancecalc>><<friendshipcalc>><</nobr>>"<<c firstname>>!" You look up to see <<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 35 and $highestromance is "blade">> Blade there on the other side of the glade, his sword a deadly blur of quicksilver motion, and he catches your eye and yells your name again. The sheer fear and desperation in his voice—and the look of hard, hurtling panic on his face—is almost enough to crack your heart in half. He slices through the horde of the Asag with vicious, ruthless efficiency, their ranks dissipating like smoke before him—but their numbers are too great for him to reach you. <<elseif $troubleromanceflag gte 25 and $highestromance is "trouble">> <<set $totherescue to "trouble">>Trouble there on the other side of the glade, his gun blazing in his hand with light and fire, and he catches your eye and yells your name again. The heartfelt fear, relief, and desperation in his voice—and the renewed, reckless way he throws himself at the Asag to get to you—is almost enough to crack your heart in half. He shoots through the Asag, his bullets piercing their ethereal bodies and making them dissolve like mist, but their numbers are too great for him to reach you. <<elseif $redromanceflag gte 25 and $highestromance is "red">> Red there on the other side of the glade, his warhammer swinging and blazing with magic, and he catches your eye and shouts your name again. The sheer and utter knee-collapsing relief in his voice—and then the grim, determined anger with which he kills the Asag, as if impatient with them for daring to stand between you—is almost enough to crack your heart in half. He smashes through the Asag with surprisingly ruthless efficiency, making them dissolve into the air like mist, but their numbers are too great for him to reach you. <<elseif $chaseromanceflag gte 30 and $highestromance is "chase">> Chase there on the other side of the glade, one hand blazing with gunfire while the other wields his deadly-sharp dagger, and he catches your eye and calls your name again. The sheer look of raw, blank anger on his face, the clench in his jaw and the mad, mechanical way he decimates the Asag is almost enough to crack your heart in half. He slices viciously through the Asag like a hot knife through butter, making them dissolve into the night air like mist, but their numbers are too great for him to reach you. <<else>> the others there on the other side of the glade, battling through the Tainted, and the way their expressions lighten with relief at the sight of you makes your own stomach swoop with gladness. The five of you renew your struggle against the Asag, pressing them from both sides, but even with your combined efforts, you quickly find yourselves separated and fighting for your lives. <</if>><</nobr>> Finally, someone else seizes you by the arm from behind and hauls you protectively against them. <<nobr>><<if $totherescue is "trouble">> "Are you all right, <<c halfname2>>?" Red shouts as he backs you up, holding his warhammer up protectively and swinging it in a wide half-circle to fend off the approaching Asag. All around you, you can hear the others trying to fight the swarm of Tainted off: <<c totherescue>> disappears behind the mass of their smoke-like, swarming bodies. "I'm sorry it took us so long to track you down—we didn't know where you'd gone! Did he hurt you?" <<else>> "You all right, <<c firstname>>?" Trouble shouts, raising his gun and opening fire on the Asag barreling down toward you. All around you, you can hear the others trying to fight the swarm of Tainted off: <<c totherescue>> disappears behind the mass of their smoke-like, swarming bodies. "Had a devil of a time finding you—looks like we got here just in the nick of time! Did that bastard hurt you?" <</if>><</nobr>> "Less him and more the Asag," you answer, wiping your mouth and glancing pointedly at Thurl's crumpled body. You try not to wince as you feel your raw, burned skin tugging against your sleeve. "How did you find me?" "Well, Saranae pointed us in the right direction. <<nobr>><<if $highestromance is "blade" and $bladeromanceflag gte 30>> It was just a matter of running and hoping we'd catch up to you. Blade practically <i>flew</i>." <<elseif $highestromance is "trouble" and $troubleromanceflag gte 25>> It was just a matter of running and hoping we'd catch up to you. We couldn't get Trouble to calm down: he kept charging ahead like a bull." <<elseif $highestromance is "chase" and $chaseromanceflag gte 30>> It was just a matter of running and hoping we'd catch up to you. Chase nearly left us behind completely." <<elseif $highestromance is "red" and $redromanceflag gte 25>> It was just a matter of running and hoping we'd catch up to you. I've never seen Red run that fast in his life." <<else>> It was just a matter of running and hoping we'd catch up to you." <</if>><</nobr>> After that, there's no more time to talk: the Asag are closing in again, and there are even more of them here than the horde chasing you in the afternoon: dozens, almost a hundred, pressing in like a dark, smothering tide. You lunge forward to put an end to this… once and for all. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "recoup">><<if $strength gt 90>><<set $numberofasag -= 100>><<set $asaggone to true>><<elseif $strength gt 80>><<set $numberofasag -= 75>><<elseif $strength gt 70>><<set $numberofasag -= 50>><<elseif $strength gt 60>><<set $numberofasag -= 25>><</if>><</link>></center>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "reunite3i">><<set $thurldead to true>><</link>></center>

And then, as you watch, <<nobr>><<if $highestromance is "blade">> <<set $totherescue to "blade">>something explodes through Thurl's neck and cleaves his head clean off his shoulders. <<elseif $highestromance is "trouble">> <<set $totherescue to "trouble">>Thurl's head explodes in a shower of blood and gunpowder. <<elseif $highestromance is "chase">> <<set $totherescue to "chase">>Thurl's head explodes in a shower of blood and gunpowder. <<elseif $highestromance is "red">> <<set $totherescue to "red">> something smashes into the side of Thurl's head and causes it to explode in a shower of black flame. <<else>> <<set $rescue to random(1,4)>> <<if $rescue is 1>> <<set $totherescue to "blade">>something explodes through Thurl's neck and cleaves his head clean off his shoulders. <<elseif $rescue is 2>> <<set $totherescue to "trouble">>Thurl's head explodes in a shower of blood and gunpowder. <<elseif $rescue is 3>> <<set $totherescue to "trouble">>Thurl's head explodes in a shower of blood and gunpowder. <<else>> <<set $totherescue to "red">>something smashes into the side of Thurl's head and causes it to explode in a shower of black flame. <</if>> <</if>><</nobr>> You look up, dumbfounded, even as the Asag press in all around you. <<nobr>><<if $totherescue is "blade">> Blade is standing there behind Thurl's headless body, his sword a long bright bar of moongleam, and he runs it through Thurl's chest for extra measure, murder in his dark eyes. Arma crackles around the blade, singeing and cauterizing the murderer's flesh and incinerating his heart as his severed head lolls in the grass, painting it with dripping, inky blood. <<elseif $totherescue is "trouble">> Trouble is standing there, his gun smoking and his bright eyes alight with murder and fury, and he fires another explosive round at Thurl's chest for good measure, leaving a smoking crater where the man's heart once was. The headless torso topples backwards into the grass, flops once, and then falls still. <<elseif $totherescue is "chase">> Chase is standing there, his gun smoking and his face utterly cold and blank, the look of him strangely remote as he stares down at Thurl's smoking, headless body. His pupils are so wide and dark, and his expression so full of distant contempt and disdain, that you almost don't recognize him at all. <<else>> Red is standing there, grim and pale with anger, and he raises his warhammer and swings again, connecting with such a brutal hit that Thurl topples sideways into the grass with a sickening <i>thud</i>. The man roars and bellows with pain and rage as magical flames race up his body, licking along his scarred flesh. Red looks on resignedly, his hammer poised to come down again, as Thurl writhes in the grass, trying in vain to snuff out the black fire. <</if>><</nobr>> The Asag immediately scatter like locusts, howling in a thousand different voices as their master loses his grip on their hive-mind, their bodies shuddering and nictitating with a horrible rattling sound. They dive towards you, driven by the urge to <i>devour</i>, and someone else seizes you by the arm and hauls you protectively against them. <<nobr>><<if $totherescue is not "trouble">> "You all right, <<c firstname>>?" Trouble shouts, raising his gun and opening fire on the Asag barreling down toward you. All around you, you can hear the others trying to fight the swarm of Tainted off: <<c totherescue>> disappears behind the mass of their smoke-like, swarming bodies. "Had a devil of a time finding you—looks like we got here just in the nick of time! Did that bastard hurt you?" <<else>> "Are you all right, <<c halfname2>>?" Red shouts as he backs you up, holding his warhammer up protectively and swinging it in a wide half-circle to fend off the approaching Asag. All around you, you can hear the others trying to fight the swarm of Tainted off: <<c totherescue>> disappears behind the mass of their smoke-like, swarming bodies. "I'm sorry it took us so long to track you down—we didn't know where you'd gone! Did he hurt you?" <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "reunite4">>

Then he shakes his massive head. "But I grow tired of your inane questions. Let us move on." <<include "thurlfail">>

<<nobr>><<sethealth -10>><<setreputation -5>><<set $thurldead to true>><<set $thurlfail to true>><</nobr>>>>"W-wait," you splutter desperately. "You don't have to do this—" The pressure in your head explodes into a brilliant conflagration of agony. You scream. And scream, and scream, and you don't even know if you're doing it out loud, if the screaming is inside your head or if your throat is actually raw with pain and terror, you don't even know if you're <i>breathing</i>, you think you might be dead, everything is so whited out with anguish that you can't feel anything, not heat or cold or even your own <i>skin</i>— You're flopping on the ground like a landed fish, your mind flayed and blistered like it's been plunged into an acid bath. You think the Asag are creeping closer to you, drawn by your suffocating, paralyzing fear, but all you can look at is Thurl, staring down at you with blank inattention, a child watching a bug he's burning to death beneath a magnifying glass, his expression one of granite and flint and scree, nothing there but slight passive interest and then, way deep down, the faintest glimmer of madness in those lightless eyes— And then, as you watch, <<nobr>><<if $highestromance is "blade">> <<set $totherescue to "blade">>something explodes through Thurl's neck and cleaves his head clean off his shoulders. <<elseif $highestromance is "trouble">> <<set $totherescue to "trouble">>Thurl's head explodes in a shower of blood and gunpowder. <<elseif $highestromance is "chase">> <<set $totherescue to "chase">>Thurl's head explodes in a shower of blood and gunpowder. <<elseif $highestromance is "red">> something smashes into the side of Thurl's head and causes it to explode in a shower of black flame. <<else>> <<set $rescue to random(1,4)>> <<if $rescue is 1>> <<set $totherescue to "blade">>something explodes through Thurl's neck and cleaves his head clean off his shoulders. <<elseif $rescue is 2>> <<set $totherescue to "trouble">>Thurl's head explodes in a shower of blood and gunpowder. <<elseif $rescue is 3>> <<set $totherescue to "trouble">>Thurl's head explodes in a shower of blood and gunpowder. <<else>> <<set $totherescue to "red">>something smashes into the side of Thurl's head and causes it to explode in a shower of black flame. <</if>> <</if>><</nobr>> Instantly, the pressure in your head stops, leaving you shaking on the ground, your ribs heaving, the sweat all over you grease-cold. <<nobr>><<if $totherescue is "blade">> Blade is standing there behind Thurl's headless body, his sword a long bright bar of moongleam, and he runs it through Thurl's chest for extra measure, murder in his dark eyes. Arma crackles around the blade, singeing and cauterizing the murderer's flesh and incinerating his heart as his severed head lolls in the grass, painting it with dripping, inky blood. <<elseif $totherescue is "trouble">> Trouble is standing there, his gun smoking and his bright eyes alight with murder and fury, and he fires another explosive round at Thurl's chest for good measure, leaving a smoking crater where the man's heart once was. The headless torso topples sideways in the grass, flops once, and then falls still. <br><br> Trouble wipes his mouth with the back of his gloved hand, his face grim with hatred. "Fucker," he spits. <<elseif $totherescue is "chase">> Chase is standing there, his gun smoking and his face utterly cold and furious, the look of him strangely remote as he slowly paces towards Thurl's smoking, headless body. His pupils are so wide and dark, and his face so blank and mechanical, that you almost don't recognize him at all. Almost as if in a trance, he moves grimly towards the murderer's corpse, pulls out his dagger, and then methodically runs it through the man's chest, once, twice, making sure all life has fled from it for good measure. <<else>> Red is standing there, livid with anger, and he raises his warhammer and swings again, connecting with such a brutal hit that Thurl topples sideways into the grass with a sickening <i>thud</i>. The man roars and bellows with pain and rage as magical flames race up his body, licking along his scarred flesh. Red looks grimly on, his hammer poised to come down again, as Thurl writhes in the grass, trying in vain to snuff out the black fire. You can smell the stink of his burning flesh from here. <</if>><</nobr>> The Asag immediately scatter like locusts, howling in a thousand different voices as their master loses his grip on their hive-mind, their bodies shuddering and nictitating with a horrible rattling sound. They dive towards you, driven by the urge to <i>devour</i>, and someone else seizes you by the back of your cloak and hauls you protectively against them. <<nobr>><<if $totherescue is not "trouble">> "You all right, <<c firstname>>?" Trouble shouts as he shelters you under his arm, raising his gun and opening fire on the Asag barreling down toward you. All around you, you can hear the others trying to fight the swarm of Tainted off: <<c totherescue>> disappears behind the mass of their smoke-like, swarming bodies. "Had a devil of a time finding you—looks like we got here just in the nick of time! Did that bastard hurt you?" <<else>> "Are you all right, <<c halfname2>>?" Red shouts as he backs you up, holding his warhammer up protectively and swinging it in a wide half-circle to fend off the approaching Asag. All around you, you can hear the others trying to fight the swarm of Tainted off: <<c totherescue>> disappears behind the mass of their smoke-like, swarming bodies. "I'm sorry it took us so long to track you down—we didn't know where you'd gone! Did he hurt you?" <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "reunite4">>

"Not physically," you answer, drawing your own $mainweapon and shaking your head to try to clear it of the lingering, singing pain. "How did you find me?" "Well, Saranae pointed us in the right direction. <<nobr>><<if $highestromance is "blade" and $bladeromanceflag gte 30>> It was just a matter of running and hoping we'd catch up to you. Blade practically <i>flew</i>." <<elseif $highestromance is "trouble" and $troubleromanceflag gte 25>> It was just a matter of running and hoping we'd catch up to you. We couldn't get Trouble to calm down: he kept charging ahead like a bull." <<elseif $highestromance is "chase" and $chaseromanceflag gte 30>> It was just a matter of running and hoping we'd catch up to you. Chase nearly left us behind completely." <<elseif $highestromance is "red" and $redromanceflag gte 25>> It was just a matter of running and hoping we'd catch up to you. I've never seen Red run that fast in his life." <<else>> It was just a matter of running and hoping we'd catch up to you." <</if>><</nobr>> After that, there's no more time to talk: the Asag are closing in, and there are even more of them than how many were chasing you before: dozens, almost a hundred, pressing in like a dark, smothering tide. You lunge forward to put an end to this… once and for all. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "recoup">><<if $strength gt 90>><<set $numberofasag -= 100>><<set $asaggone to true>><<elseif $strength gt 80>><<set $numberofasag -= 75>><<elseif $strength gt 70>><<set $numberofasag -= 50>><<elseif $strength gt 60>><<set $numberofasag -= 25>><</if>><</link>></center>

Finally, it's over: <<nobr>><<if $numberofasag is 0>> all of the Asag are dead, their bodies converted into nothing more than a faintly foul-smelling, noxious smog that curtains the glade. <<else>> the Asag who don't fall beneath your weapons decide to scatter to the nine winds, fleeing into the mists and melting into the confusing shapes of the treeline. <</if>><</nobr>> You barely have a moment to catch your breath before <<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 35 and $highestromance is "blade">> you're yanked around and find yourself face-to-face with Blade, who holds your upper arms in a vice-grip. He immediately leans back, but only to scan your face and look you over for injuries; the expression on his face is both angry and worried, his breathing harsher than you've ever heard it. <br><br> "Are you all right?" he demands, his voice hard and fierce as he grips your shoulder and half-shakes you. The clench of his jaw and the thunderous look of concern on his face tells you all you need to know about what he's been going through since you disappeared after Thurl. <<if $thurlfail is true>> "What happened? <i>What did he do to you</i>?" <<else>> "<i>Did he hurt you</i>?" <</if>> <br><br> Someone clears their throat, and you instantly pull away from each other, <<if $thurlfail is true>> embarrassed—though the look of dark anger in Blade's eyes never fades. <<else>> embarrassed. <</if>> <br><br> <<include "fivesacrowd2">> <<elseif $troubleromanceflag gte 25 and $highestromance is "trouble">> you're yanked around and find yourself face-to-face with Trouble, who immediately pulls you forward into his chest. He clinches you in an embrace that squeezes the breath out of you, pressing his face in the crook between your neck and shoulder with unabashed '<i>praise God</i>' relief. <br><br> <<if $thurlfail is true>> "You scared the shit out of me," he mumbles into your hair, his arms wonderfully tight around you as he crushes you against him. His voice, however, is shaky and ragged, and he won't look directly at you. "I thought—when I saw what that fucking <i>kisich</i> was doing to you—" His grip starts to turn a little too tight. <<else>> "You scared the shit out of me," he mumbles into your hair, his arms wonderfully tight around you as he crushes you against him. "Don't you <i>ever</i> do that again, you hear me? I could throttle you myself, you incredible, wondrous, <i>stupid</i>—" <</if>> <br><br> Someone clears their throat, and you instantly pull away from each other, <<if $thurlfail is true>> embarrassed—though the troubled, angry look on Trouble's face doesn't fade. <<else>> embarrassed. <</if>> <br><br> <<include "fivesacrowd2">> <<elseif $redromanceflag gte 25 and $highestromance is "red">> you're yanked around and find yourself face-to-face with Red, who immediately cups your face in his large, warm hands, his concerned eyes roaming over your features as he checks you over for injuries. Then he presses his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your lips as he breathes, <<if $thurlfail is true>> "Are you all right? I about lost my mind with worry—what on <i>earth</i> possessed you to do that? And are you all right? I saw him—did he—" <<else>> "I about lost my mind with worry when I found out you were gone. What on <i>earth</i> possessed you to do that? And what do I have to do to make sure you <i>never</i> do it again?" <</if>> <br><br> Someone clears their throat, and you instantly pull away from each other, embarrassed. <br><br> <<include "fivesacrowd2">> <<elseif $chaseromanceflag gte 30 and $highestromance is "chase">> you're yanked around and find yourself face-to-face with Chase, who seizes you by the shoulders, almost painfully hard, and grips you fiercely, checking you over for injuries. His eyes, when they meet yours, look completely foreign to you: the pupils are dilated so widely that they almost turn his eyes black, and the gaze in them is savage, remote, and full of cold fury. <br><br> "What happened?" he demands harshly, almost barking it. "<i>Did he hurt you</i>?" <br><br> Someone clears their throat, and you instantly pull away from each other, though the strange, furious look doesn't leave Chase's face. <br><br> <<include "fivesacrowd2">> <<elseif ($highestfriendship is "blade" or $highestfriendship is "chase") or ($highestfriendship is "trouble" or $highestfriendship is "red")>> you're yanked around and find yourself face-to-face with <<c highestfriendship>>, who grips your shoulders in one strong, familiar clasp. <br><br> "Are you all right?" he demands, looking you over intently. "Are you injured?" <br><br> The others come running up, steaming in the chill night air and looking wild-eyed and bedraggled, but otherwise unharmed. There are various exclamations of relief and joy at the sight of you intact—<<c highestfriendship>> squeezes your shoulder one more time, imparting an unspoken message of friendship, gladness, and the connectedness of comrades reuniting on the battlefield—before you turn to business, enfolded once more in the group's circle of safety and trust. <br><br> <<include "imall7right">> <<else>> the others come running up, steaming in the chill night air and looking wild-eyed and bedraggled, but otherwise unharmed. <br><br> <<include "imall7right">> <</if>><</nobr>>

The others are standing there, panting hard and looking wild-eyed and steaming in the chill night air, but everyone seems otherwise intact and unharmed. They come forward to give you their own once-overs, clasping you familiarly on the shoulder or ruffling your hair with murmured exclamations of relief or chastisement, before you force yourselves to turn back to business. <<include "imall7right">>

"I'm all right," you say, answering the unspoken question. You're certainly banged up, bloodied, and bruised, your skin scalded and smarting from prolonged contact with the <<nobr>><<if $thurlfail is true>> Asag and your head ringing from your encounter with Thurl—but it's not the worst you've ever faced. You'll live. <<else>> Asag—but it's not the worst you've ever faced. You'll live. <</if>><</nobr>> "He didn't hurt me. At least not physically. He"—you nod at Thurl's <<nobr>><<if $thurldead is true>> huddled corpse—"broke <<else>> unconscious body—"broke <</if>><</nobr>> into Saranae's house, disguised… he's the son of Berendal and Lyden, so he's part Changeling, part Enchanter, and he was intent on taking Saranae as what was supposedly his last vengeance killing. I caught him midway into attempting it, so he tried to flee before he managed to hurt her, and I pursued… and now here we are." You give a short explanation of everything else you learned from Thurl; Blade dispatches the others to secure the area in the meantime. "All clear," Trouble says once he's made a sweep. <<nobr>><<if $numberofasag is 0 and $asaggone is true>> "Looks like we got 'em all. I wouldn't be surprised if they were eradicated permanently." <br><br> <<include "andthurl">> <<elseif $numberofasag is 25>> "Looks like we got most of them: a few got away and ran off into the swamp, but I don't think they'll be a threat to Wallmire anymore." <br><br> <<include "andthurl">> <<elseif $numberofasag is 50>> "Looks like about half of them got away. Hopefully they won't return to threaten Wallmire again." <br><br> <<include "andthurl">> <<else>> "Most of them got away and took off into the swamp. I really hope they won't return to threaten Wallmire again, or any other place around here, but nothing we can do about it now—they're all scattered." <br><br> <<include "andthurl">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $thurldead is false>> "And Thurl?" Blade asks, turning to survey the man's unconscious body with undisguised contempt. <br><br> "He's secure," Red replies. While you were preoccupied with debriefing the others and securing the perimeter, Red took the time to bind the half-Changeling with inescapable containment spells, negating his ability to use magic or enchantments. The only worry is if his shapeshifting will have some unforeseen effect, allowing him to somehow circumvent the bindings, but Red believes he can prevent this by keeping him unconscious until you return to Wallmire. <br><br> Trouble spits on the ground. "So this is the <i>muti</i> who killed all of those people in Wallmire? The one who hurt Kaidir and them?" <<else>> Then he glances at Thurl's bloodied corpse, spitting on the ground at the sight of it. "So this is the <i>muti</i> who killed all of those people in Wallmire? The one who hurt Kaidir and them?" <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "you7nodslowlyin">>

You nod slowly. "In the flesh. And he—he was stronger and more cunning than I could have imagined. He nearly got the best of me." The others cast you concerned glances, looking unsettled by this. <<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 35 and $highestromance is "blade">> Blade's jaw tightens, and something dark enters his eyes. <<else>> Blade frowns. <</if>><</nobr>> "This could have been avoided if the Wallmirans had just been honest with us," he finally says, his voice as quiet and ominous as it was when he'd told you Moonsilk was lying to you at the Reach. "Blade's right," Trouble says tightly. "If they'd told us about Thurl, or that they were Changelings—we could have been more prepared. We'd never have left <<c firstname>> alone like that." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"It\'s not their fault. They\'re bound by their ancient laws, and I truly believe they would never have believed it was Thurl."' 'itsnot7their'>><<setcompassionate +5>><<set $wallmire += 5>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I don\'t appreciate being taken advantage of. We risked our lives for them, and they repaid us with lies."' 'theyowe7us'>><<setcompassionate -5>><<set $wallmire -= 5>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Let\'s hear their side of the story before we jump to conclusions. There\'s still so much we don\'t know."' 'theyowe7us'>><<setloyal +5>><<setintelligence +3>><</link>></li> </ul>

"They thought he died thirty years ago," you point out. "And I didn't sense a lie in that. He was cunning enough to fool and evade us all, them included." <<include "theyowe7us">>

"They owe us an explanation, we know that much," Red concludes in a murmur. Then he glances uneasily around the glade, shouldering his warhammer. "Let's head back and see what Saranae herself has to say. I imagine the fact that you saved her life will loosen her tongue. Then we can begin the work of wrapping up this whole ugly affair and finally putting an end to this nightmare." You nod just as <<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 35 and $highestromance is "blade">> Blade falls into step beside you, his hand hovering protectively near your elbow. <<elseif $troubleromanceflag gte 25 and $highestromance is "trouble">> Trouble falls into step beside you, his arm curling protectively around your back. <<elseif $chaseromanceflag gte 35 and $highestromance is "chase">> Chase falls into step beside you, his eyes hooded but his body language alert and keenly attuned to yours. <<elseif $redromanceflag gte 30 and $highestromance is "red">> Red falls into step beside you, his hand splaying gently against the small of your back. <<else>> Trouble falls into step beside you, his eyes alertly scanning the surrounding mist for more trouble. <</if>><</nobr>> "Let's go home." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Back to Wallmire</span></div></div>' "backtowallmire">><</link>></center>

You never see it coming. One moment, <<c thurlsdisguise>> is walking behind your chair, and the next, his hands are closing around your throat with monstrous strength. It's like a <i>demon's</i> strength, a Revenant's, cutting off your airway with brutal, unflinching finality: you instantly feel the pressure build in your head, then your eyes, a klaxon scream of pain and panic tearing through your body as you register what's going on. You kick and scream and flail, knocking over the dining room table in your thrashing, but <<c thurlsdisguise>>'s vice-grip on your neck simply tightens. You can't see him behind you, but you think he's utterly silent, focused, so unmoved by your struggling that you're not even sure that he's breathing. In the kitchen, Saranae is screaming, and out of the corner of your eye, you see something picking her up as she thrashes, an overlong tendril of shadow like the limb of an unseen tree… <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "thurlgetssaranaei">><<sethealth -20>><</link>></center>

<<nobr>>/* below comments from original CS (originally below the below passage) comment Surya pursues as a hawk, the group converges and chases Thurl together, they come across Thurl holding Saranae hostage and have to talk him down -- pretty much same conversation as before, have to use clues theyve gathered to keep him talking. if he becomes angry or impatient with their ignorance, he breaks Saranae's neck. One of the others kills him. *comment in the above scenario, MC either keeps him talking long enough that they break out of his grip and attack and subdue him, or their lover arrives and kills him, in the cold grip of murder in their heart. If they do not employ the clues to keep him talking, he begins to torture them? or something. or maybe they just automatically succeed and don't need the clue check because they passed the other status checks. Only in the scenario where MC subdues them himself do they get to choose what to do with him--in all other scenarios, Thurl is killed. comment next chapter (interlude) for MC's vision; chapter ends with them falling into the god vision with Mimir comment chapter 8: home */ <</nobr>> You don't even remember passing out. It's as if you simply jumped a moment in time: in one blink of an eye, you're being viciously strangled to death—and in the next, you're lying in the wreckage of your chair, staring up at the ceiling as a flurry of lights dances behind your eyes. You hear someone desperately gasping and croaking for breath, sounding like a broken bellows. To your shock, you realize that the noise is coming from <i>you</i>. Cyril is crouching next to you, furiously shaking your shoulders. He has tears in his eyes. "—<i>please</i> wake up," he's saying. "It took my mom, the man grabbed her and ran away with my mom!" <<include "ending7i5">>

<<nobr>><<if $asaggone is true or $numberofasag is 0>><<achieve "achieve_asag">><<notify_achievement "Silence is Golden" "Destroyed all of the Asag in the area.">><</if>> /* comment need to insert thurl if he's alive and spared here */ <</nobr>> The village is in a tizzy by the time you return, the torches and braziers casting a searing halo of light against the black waters of the swamp as people scurry back and forth along the walkways like ants, delivering news and peering in through the <i>heguman's</i> broken window. A great hush falls over the crowd as the five of you emerge from the fog, mud-splattered and nearly staggering with weariness, <<nobr>><<if $thurldead is true>> bearing Thurl's slumped corpse on a magical litter. <<else>> bearing Thurl's inert and silent form on a magical litter. <</if>><</nobr>> Then there's a roar of realization, panic, and excitement: people rush forward to meet you, clamoring for information, and you're barraged with an artillery of questions, most asking after your health, marveling at your survival, or questioning how you escaped the Terror—and demanding to know who the Terror actually <i>is</i>. You answer none of these questions: you only continue trudging silently forward, your expressions stern and grim. You're done with answering their questions, you've decided. You're not saying a word more until you get the truth. <<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 35 and $highestromance is "blade">> Blade pulls you aside just before you enter Saranae's brightly-lit house, staring down at you with a look of rare undisguised worry and consternation on his face. "Are you sure you're all right?" he asks softly, his dark eyes flicking over your form. His voice takes on a warning tone as his hand tightens on your elbow. "If you're hiding any injuries, or…" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Smile reassuringly. "I\'m <i>fine</i>. I\'m made of stronger stuff than you think, you know."' 'smilereas7suringly'>><<setblade +1>><<set $bladeromanceflag += 2>><<setcourage +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Plaster on a brave face. "I\'m okay."' 'plaster7on'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Pull away. "I\'m alive, aren\'t I?"' 'pull7awayblade'>><<setblade -3>><<set $bladeromanceflag -= 1>><<setloyal -5>><<setcompassionate -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Laugh lightly. "Please. I\'ve been knocked down by drinks stronger than Thurl."' 'laugh7lightly'>><<setcourage +3>><<setblade +1>><</link>></li> </ul> <<elseif $redromanceflag gte 30 and $highestromance is "red">> Red pulls you aside just before you enter Saranae's brightly-lit house, staring at you with undisguised worry and concern. "Are you sure you're all right?" he asks softly, his green eyes flicking over you as he rubs his thumb unconsciously against the pulse-point at your wrist. "You're not just putting up a strong front, are you?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Smile reassuringly. "I\'m <i>fine</i>. I\'m made of tougher stuff than you think, you know."' 'smile7reassuringred'>><<setred +1>><<setcourage +1>><<set $redromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Plaster on a brave face. "I\'m okay."' 'plasteron7brave'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Pull away. "I\'m alive, aren\'t I?"' 'pullaway7red'>><<setred -3>><<setloyal -5>><<setcompassionate -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Laugh lightly. "Please. I\'ve been knocked down by drinks stronger than Thurl."' 'laught7lightlyred'>><<setcourage +3>><</link>></li> </ul> <<elseif $$troubleromanceflag gte 25 and $highestromance is "trouble">> Trouble pulls you aside just before you enter Saranae's brightly-lit house, staring at you with a completely earnest expression of worry and concern. "You sure you're all right?" he asks softly, his blue-gold gaze flicking over you as his hand tightens on your elbow. "You're not just acting tough, are you?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Smile reassuringly. "I\'m fine. I\'m made of stronger stuff than you think, you know."' 'imfine7trouble'>><<settrouble +3>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 1>><<setcourage +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Plaster on a brave face. "I\'m okay."' 'plaster7bravetrouble'>><<settrouble -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Pull away. "I\'m alive, aren\'t I?"' 'pullaway7trouble'>><<settrouble -3>><<setloyal -5>><<set $troubleromanceflag -= 3>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Laugh lightly. "Please. I\'ve been knocked down by drinks stronger than Thurl."' 'laugh7lightlytrouble'>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 3>><<settrouble +3>><<setcourage +3>><</link>></li> </ul> <<elseif ($chaseromanceflag gte 35 and $chasesex is true) and $highestromance is "chase">> Chase pulls you aside just before you enter Saranae's brightly-lit house; he doesn't quite meet your eye, but his expression is one of rare undisguised worry and concern. "Are you sure you're all right?" he asks in a low voice, his green eyes flicking over you as his hand tightens on your elbow. "Did he… are you hurt?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Smile reassuringly. "I\'m fine. I\'m made of stronger stuff than you think, you know."' 'smile7atchasereassure'>><<setchase +1>><<setcourage +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Plaster on a brave face. "I\'m okay."' 'plasteron7chasebrave'>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 3>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Pull away. "I\'m alive, aren\'t I?"' 'pullaway7chase'>><<set $chaseromanceflag -= 5>><<setchase -3>><<setloyal -5>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Laugh lightly. "Please. I\'ve been knocked down by drinks stronger than Thurl."' 'laugh7lightlychase'>><<set $chaseromanceflag -= 1>><<setcourage +3>><</link>></li> </ul> <<elseif $troublehate is false and $trouble gte 70>> Trouble pulls you aside just before you enter Saranae's brightly-lit house, his brow furrowed as he asks in a low voice: "You sure you're all right? You can rest in your room if you need to." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Smile at him and nudge him playfully. "Worried about me? You know I\'m fine."' 'smileat7troubleplayfully'>><<setcharisma +1>><<settrouble +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Laugh at him. "Oh, please. What do you take me for? I\'ve been knocked down by drinks stronger than Thurl."' 'laughat7him'>><<settrouble +1>><<setcourage +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Shake your head determinedly. "Not yet. We have unfinished business to see to."' 'shakeyour7headdetermined'>><<setcourage +1>><<settrouble +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Stare at him stonily. "Do I look like I\'m all right? Let\'s just get this over with."' 'donti7look'>><<fair_plus "$trouble" -10>><<setchase -3>><<setred -3>><<setloyal -5>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setcharisma -3>><</link>></li> </ul> <<else>> <<include "asudden7cry">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Blade doesn't quite smile, but his eyes soften a little, and his grip becomes gentler as the tension in his expression and shoulders eases slightly. "I know," he says quietly, just a hint of dry ruefulness to it. Then he sobers again and looks at you with an unreadable expression: what is that in his gaze? Pain? Fear? Unhappiness? Unguardedness? You're not exactly sure. He says, his voice a bit hoarse: "When we came back and found you gone… I…" <<include "asudden7cry">>

Blade watches you speculatively, an unconvinced frown on his face. He says unhappily, "When we came back and found you gone… I…" <<include "asudden7cry">>

Blade doesn't quite smile, but his expression lightens, just a little. Then he sobers again and says, his voice a bit hoarse: "When we came back and found you gone… I…" <<include "asudden7cry">>

Red smiles slightly, his expression soft and warm with fond admiration as he looks into your eyes. "I know," he says quietly, with a tinge of ruefulness. "But that doesn't stop me from worrying." Then his expression turns more serious as he says, "When we came back and found you gone… I thought…" <<include "asudden7cry">>

Red watches you for a moment, a pensive, skeptical look on his face. "I don't quite believe you, but I suppose I shouldn't press," he sighs. "Just know that… I'm here for you, whenever you want to talk." He runs a hand through his disheveled hair. "When we came back and found you gone… I thought…" <<include "asudden7cry">>

Red winces, his hand falling away from yours as if burned. "All right," he says unhappily. "But just know that if you need to talk, I'm here for you." He runs a hand through his disheveled hair. "When we came back and found you gone… I thought…" <<include "asudden7cry">>

Red smiles a little, his expression rueful as he mutters, "You're as indomitable as ever. But if you ever want to talk, just remember that I'm here for you." He runs a hand through his disheveled hair. "When we came back and found you gone… I thought…" <<include "asudden7cry">>

Trouble's expression relaxes into one of relief and a ruefulness. "I know," he says gruffly. "But I just wanted to check. I made a promise to always look out for you, didn't I?" Then his eyes slide away from yours, his expression sobering and turning more downcast. He says in a low voice: "When we came back and found you missing… I…" <<include "asudden7cry">>

Trouble's brows immediately snap down in a frown, and he shakes you lightly. "None of that, <<c halfname>>. We tell each other the truth, you and I. So none of that stiff upper-lip bullshit." Then his eyes slide away from yours, his jaw clenching as he says, "When we came back and found you missing… I…" <<include "asudden7cry">>

Trouble's brows immediately snap down in a frown, and his jaw clenches as his hand falls away from you as if he's been burned. He says hotly, "That's not an answer." Then his eyes slide away from yours, his fists bunching as he says, "When we came back and found you missing… I…" <<include "asudden7cry">>

Trouble's expression softens into one of relief and affection. <<nobr>><<if $gender is "female">> "That's my girl," he says softly. <<elseif $gender is "male">> "Good man," he says softly. <<else>> "That's my <<c halfname>>," he says softly. <</if>><</nobr>> Then his eyes slide away from yours, his expression sobering as he says in a low voice: "When we came back and found you missing… I…" <<include "asudden7cry">>

Chase makes a humming sound, still watching your face intently. Then he blinks and seems to remember himself, releasing your arm and taking a step back, though his hand falls away from you with some reluctance. <<include "asudden7cry">>

Chase stares at you with an intense, unreadable look on his face: you can't tell if his expression is one of anger, consternation, fear, or something else. He says quietly, "Don't do that." <<include "asudden7cry">>

Chase abruptly releases your arm, stepping back as if you'd burned him. <<include "asudden7cry">>

Chase makes a humming sound, though he doesn't seem to quite believe you. Then he suddenly seems to remember himself and abruptly releases your arm, turning away as if you'd burned him. <<include "asudden7cry">>

Trouble grins and jostles you back. "That's our Hero of Haven. Harder to tear down than a mountain." <<include "asudden7cry">>

Trouble grins and claps you on the shoulder. "That's our Hero of Haven. Harder to tear down than a mountain." <<include "asudden7cry">>

Trouble sighs but seems to accept this answer, running a rueful hand through his short golden hair. "That's our Hero of Haven. Harder to tear down than a mountain." <<include "asudden7cry">>

Trouble grimaces, but falls back slightly. "If you say so." <<include "asudden7cry">>

A sudden cry from the doorway of the <i>heguman's</i> house tells you that the twins have finally noticed your arrival; they dart forward, as if to fling their arms around you, then pull up short when they notice your levitating stretcher and the slumped form on top of it. Saranae materializes behind them, looking tear-streaked and shaken, but otherwise relatively intact. The obvious relief she feels at seeing you unharmed is immediately punctured by the unsmiling looks on your faces, however. She bows her head while Wren, stepping out from the surrounding crowd, says quietly, "Come. I'll show you where you can put <i>him</i>." Xe jerks xer head at Thurl's body with an expression of the deepest loathing and contempt. Then xe flicks xer green eyes at you and drops xer tone even lower. "And then we can… talk." Blade's expression is one of granite, and some in the crowd draw back from you with a sudden uncertain fear. Even though the threat of the Terror is now over, there is still the distinct breathless feeling of waiting for an execution in the air tonight. It's just up to you to decide whose it will be. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "asudden7cryi">><</link>></center>

Once you've dispensed with Thurl, <<nobr>><<if $thurldead is true>> depositing his body in an unused storehouse where Wren's guards can prevent the townspeople from desecrating it, <<else>> depositing his unconscious body in a makeshift town jail while Wren's guards surround every inch of it, <</if>><</nobr>> you settle yourselves once more in the <i>heguman's</i> kitchen. There's some fussing over your wounds, and the anxious murmurs of the other townsfolk are still audible from the square outside, but otherwise, the house is dead silent while Saranae, Wren, Cyril, and Surya watch you from the other side of the dining room table. Their thin faces look more faintly greenish than ever, Saranae's hair a wild living tangle after her encounter with Thurl, and looking at them now, you're not sure how you didn't realize the truth sooner. They don't look quite like anyone you've ever seen. Knowing what you know now, their being Changelings just seems so obvious. <i>Well,</i> you suppose, <i>we just didn't know what it was we were looking for.</i> "So," you say in a measured tone. "Let's lay all of our cards out on the table, shall we? We know everything. We know that you're Changelings. And we know that Thurl—yes, that man outside <i>is</i> Thurl—was killing off your elders in retaliation for what was done to his parents so long ago." Wren takes in a long breath and doesn't let it out. Cyril and Surya simply stare at you with wide, deer-like eyes. Saranae covers her face, but her voice, when she speaks, is clear and audible in its shame. "I swear to you, we didn't know," she says from between her hands. "<i>Everything</i> I said to you was true. So many people witnessed his death, how could we have—" "Not everything," Blade cuts in pitilessly, using a cool, impersonal voice. You're beginning to associate that quiet, almost conversational tone of his with leashed violence and deep anger. "You lied about how your messenger got out of the swamp, and why she immediately turned back instead of staying to lead us to Wallmire herself. You lied about <i>why you killed Thurl's parents</i>. There was no demon magic or dark arts. Lyden was no Sorcerer, and Thurl was no demonspawn. You killed them because you were afraid of them exposing your secret." "We're not proud of ourselves for doing it," Wren snaps, coming to the defense of xer wife; "but we had no choice, don't you see? We were and are bound by the <i>Tua'ti</i>. It's our sacred oath to protect the secrets of our people. And if we doctored a few details, it was to protect both ourselves and you as well. How were we to know that such minor lies would have any bearing on the matter at hand?" "How about the fact that, maybe if they'd had a Changeling to guide them, our teams wouldn't have gotten lost, or fallen prey to Thurl's tricks or the Asag?" Trouble bursts out then, leaning forward and clenching his fists against the tabletop. "How about the fact that if we knew Thurl was a Changeling, we could have actually prepared for him, rather than going off and leaving <<c firstname>> alone and wasting our time <i>on some stupid demon-ward</i>?" "But we didn't know Thurl had anything to do with it," Wren shoots back. "We thought he'd been dead for thirty years! We really did think the Terror was some kind of demon!" "Even if you didn't outright lie, you deliberately concealed parts of the truth from us," Red points out in a murmur. "Lying by omission is much the same as plain deceit." A kind of strangled wail bursts out of Saranae, half pain, half helpless frustration. "We <i>had</i> to lie, we weren't given a choice, <i>don't you see that</i>?" <ul class="choices"> <<if $charisma gte 65 and $thurlfail is false>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Everyone, let\'s just calm down and take a breath. We\'re here to talk and understand, not accuse and argue."</div>' 'everyonelets7just'>><<setcharisma +3>><<set $wallmire += 5>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">"Everyone, let\'s just calm down and take a breath. We\'re here to talk and understand, not accuse and argue."</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link '"How can we see when you haven\'t told us anything but half-truths and allusions?!"' 'howcan7we'>><<setcharisma -3>><<setcourage +1>><<set $wallmire -= 10>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Are you talking about the <i>Tua\'ti</i>?"' 'areyou7talkingtuati'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Blade, Trouble, just relax. The Changelings are our friends, not our enemies."' 'bladetrouble7just'>><<setblade -1>><<set $wallmire -= 5>><<setcharisma -1>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Abruptly, everyone falls quiet and looks at you: Saranae and Wren look humbled. After a long moment of recollecting herself, Saranae says, "You're right. You've suffered because of us, <<c rank>> <<c surname>>, so you're owed an explanation. Whatever punishment that awaits us for giving it, we'll accept." Wren puts xer hand on her shoulder and nods. Then Saranae turns to their children. "But I think you shouldn't be here for this, my loves." <<include "surya7immediatelyopens">>

Wren abruptly stands up, but Saranae immediately puts her hand on her spouse's shoulder and yanks xer back down. After a long look at each other, Saranae takes a breath and says, "You're right. You've suffered because of us, <<c rank>> <<c surname>>, so you're owed an explanation. Whatever punishment that awaits us for giving it, we'll accept." Then she turns to their children. "But I think you shouldn't be here for this, my loves." <<include "surya7immediatelyopens">>

Saranae's shoulders stiffen, and Wren frowns, but they slowly nod. Cyril and Surya look starkly terrified. After a long moment, Saranae says slowly, "Yes, that's right. It forbids us from telling you anything more." But then she shakes her head. "But you've suffered because of us, <<c rank>> <<c surname>>, so you're owed an explanation. Whatever punishment that awaits us for giving it, we'll accept." Then she turns to their children. "But I think you shouldn't be here for this, my loves." <<include "surya7immediatelyopens">>

Saranae's shoulders stiffen, and Wren frowns: this was clearly not the correct thing to say. Blade's mouth tightens, but his expression goes flat and unreadable. After a moment, Saranae says slowly, "You've suffered because of us, <<c rank>> <<c surname>>, so you're owed an explanation. Whatever punishment that awaits us for giving it, we'll accept." Then she turns to their children. "But I think you shouldn't be here for this, my loves." <<include "surya7immediatelyopens">>

Surya immediately opens her mouth to protest, but Wren says gently, "No arguing. If Uusae M'ri decides to exact a price from us, we have to make it clear that you weren't involved." Cyril cries, "But—" "Go," Saranae says in a steelier tone; and reluctantly, the two of them shoot nervous looks at you, rise, and exit the room. Once the door to their bedroom shuts, Saranae turns back to you and sighs. "Long ago," she begins, "knowledge of our people was once commonplace: we were as widespread and prevalent as any Elf, Mage, Hunter, or Ket. Our numbers were fewer, perhaps, but our presence was no less felt. We had a seat on the great Alliance during the Dawn Wars, and for centuries after, great kings and rulers used our agents as spies in their grand games. Wars, court dramas, politics, betrayal, the rise and fall of dynasties… many of these could be traced back to our people and our secret histories." You nod. This, at least, all checks out: it was commonly-taught history. The sticking point is that you were also taught that the Changelings all went extinct. Wren picks up the thread now. "Over time, however, the demands on our people became greater and greater," xe says. "The Khehi-Ket leases out their soldiers to clients of the state, don't they? As a way of keeping their people prosperous?" Blade frowns. "A percentage of them, yes. But that's not all the Khehi do." "Well, that's all the Changelings did," Saranae says bitterly. "No one was interested in our culture, our tradecraft, our crops or exports. Our people came from the heart of the Bleakmoor: we had no great capital city with bustling trade routes, or even a centralized seat of power. We didn't even employ a written language. The Mages outstripped us with their books and technology, the Elves with their arts and commodities, the Norms with their farms and agriculture, the Ket with their ability to make war, the Hunters with their ability to kill demons. But they also had their own communities and ecosystems to fall back on, a culture to rally around, even if the rest of the world were to cast them off. The Changelings had none of this. We were scattered, and our birthplace hidden and remote. There wasn't a good way to build a thriving kingdom of our own." She shakes her head. "So we staked our survival on our one ability, the one thing no one else in the world could do: our ability to change. From a young age we would be sent away to foreign courts and academies under the guidance of brutal spymasters. We would train almost from the moment we learned to take our first steps on how to observe our targets, on how to inhabit their every mannerism, movement, and even their <i>breath</i>. And it wasn't just our bodies—our minds, too, were devoted to making ourselves immune to the probing of Mages, the techniques of interrogators and torturers, even the psychological effects of mimicking someone so much that we'd be willing to respond by their names, parent their children, and seduce their sweethearts for <i>years</i>. We didn't belong to ourselves: we belonged to others, always, our bodies simply made to inhabit theirs, our minds bent only on the task of duplicating theirs. We were made to be others, <i>for</i> others. Our lives had no purpose other than that." There's a silence as she draws to a pause in her impassioned speech, as you all let the idea of this existence really sink in. Growing up, you always longed to have the freedom to use your powers openly, to be able to exercise your magic and not be persecuted for it. But you've never considered what it would be like for your power to make you so coveted that it became your entire identity, the measure of your entire worth to others. Chase says quietly, "So your people were driven hard by your employers. But when did it all change?" Saranae shakes her head. "The stories will tell you that our people simply went extinct—that we disappeared from the face of the earth, died out due to low birth rates or some other such nonsense. But that isn't true. We were <i>exterminated</i>—and by the very people who had been employing us for centuries." "No one knows quite how it started," Wren says grimly. "It's widely held that it was a Mage who first proposed the theory, some Court Mage in the service of a powerful queen. All of those rulers and their spymasters and advisors were exploring other ways our power could be put to use—as if what we had already given them wasn't <i>enough</i>—and then this Mage put forward the idea: if a Changeling could turn into a bird so completely that they would permanently become one, gaining a bird's abilities and instincts and even lifespan… could the same be said of turning into a Mage? Or an Elf? What about a Ket?" Xe looks away, and xer mouth tightens. "Instead of simply assuming the <i>guise</i> of another Gifted, could a Changeling alter their makeup so completely that they could ultimately gain that Gifted's powers? The discussion kept snowballing: what if there was some secret method, some hidden way that a Changeling could not just mimic the appearance of a Ket, but spend enough time in his form that they could duplicate his very arma systems… and then learn how to use them?" Breathless, dumbstruck quiet. The implications are almost too vast for you to comprehend. A Diminished with the power to access any other Diminished race's gift, regardless of their birth or original natural abilities… the sheer potential, the raw power of it, would have been akin to a god's. It would have changed everything. The balance of the world at large would have been irrevocably upended… You manage to breathe: "And <i>was</i> there a way of accomplishing this?" Saranae gives a choked, incredulous laugh. "No, of course not. It's a ridiculous idea—you should know, magic doesn't work like that—you're either born with it or you're not. You can't just—induce it in someone who doesn't have it." <ul class="choices"> <<if $troubleequalist is true>><li><<link 'You all glance at Trouble, whose expression has turned very awkward.' 'youall7glance'>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link '"But Thurl became able to control the Asag after spending enough time in their form..."' 'butthurl7became'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You\'re right, it\'s ridiculous."' 'saranaeshakes7her'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Neither Wren nor Saranae seems to understand the significance of your look, however. <<include "saranaeshakes7her">>

You explain what you learned from Thurl, but already, Saranae and Wren are shaking their heads. "That's different," Wren says. "It's like becoming a wolf long enough that you can communicate with other wolves, or come to be recognized as their pack leader and not as an outsider. You become indistinguishable to them, and you think enough like them that you can understand or direct them. But even in Asag form, Thurl couldn't steal voices the way the Asag could. He didn't have demon or Tainted magic. He made his mind enough like theirs to connect to their hive-mind, but he never truly manifested their true powers. It just doesn't work that way." <<include "saranaeshakes7her">>

Saranae shakes her head. "They just wanted more from us, that was all. We gave them everything, and they still weren't satisfied: they wanted to push our boundaries, test our limits, like we were lab rats for them to poke and prod and see if they could make us evolve in a direction <i>they</i> wanted. They didn't listen to us, wouldn't accept that it simply wasn't possible the way they were positing it was. We Changelings know. Magic, arma, grace, all of that—that comes from a divine spark, a breath of life that only a god can breathe into our bodies. It's not something that can simply be copied. And it's not for us to simply grab for ourselves." "But over time, they worked themselves up into a frenzy over this idea," Wren continues, xer mouth twisting. "Once even the seed of it was out there, it couldn't be taken back. Once it was even a hint, even just as a theory, with no evidence that it was even physically possible… it still put us on a track with an inevitable end. They put us to the torch. The mere threat of what we could someday do with that much power upset the balance of <i>everything</i>. The idea of some perfect spy, indistinguishable from your best friend or even your lover, but able to seamlessly wield magic and then arma and then the wings of an Asteriae, all in the span of a breath, was too much to abide. They turned on us—feared us even more than if we were demons. To them, we <i>were</i> worse than demons: people with blood like theirs, but with the untapped potential of living gods. And fear of what we could do outweighed even our past usefulness to them." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "takesa7shaky">><</link>></center>

Saranae takes a shaky breath. "I won't… go into detail about what was done to our people then. And not just by Norms: it was by other Gifted, too, people jealous of the idea that we could eventually supplant them and their place in the world. There were… massacres, wholesale crusades, witch hunts… even secret torture camps and mass experimentation. More of our people's blood was spilled then than it was during the Dawn Wars. They erased our existence from the history books, and it was easy: we'd written none of our own. It was as if everyone in the world had finally agreed on one thing: they would rather that none of them could use the Changelings if it meant we wouldn't become an enemy to all of them down the road. It was like destroying your own weapons so they couldn't be used against you in the future." "How did you… how is it that you're <i>here</i>, then?" Red whispers, his tan face looking drawn and sallow underneath its usual ruddy color. "How is it that you Wallmirans are alive?" Saranae and Wren glance furtively at each other. "You won't believe us," Wren says resignedly, "but we've told you the truth up until now, so we might as well keep going. We—our remaining ancestors, that is—prayed to our god, Uusae M'ri." "Uusae M'ri?" you echo. You've never heard of any such god, neither in the canon of the Old Faith or the Church of the One-God. Saranae's lips quirk wryly. "You haven't heard of it, I know. Uusae M'ri is the Changelings' god: its name means many things, from 'eternity' to 'everything-god' to 'being of a thousand faces.' It's not like your old gods, or the One-God, exactly, though it also encompasses a little of both. To us, the god encompasses <i>everything</i> and is made manifest in <i>everything</i>—Uusae M'ri is as much in the trees and the water and the animals as it is one single entity. It didn't just <i>make</i> those things, it <i>is</i> them. We are extensions of the god, just as everything on earth is: the vines are its veins, the sky is its lungs, and the people are part of it just as droplets of water are part of the sea." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"That makes sense."' 'thatmakes7sense'>><<setintelligence +1>><<set $wallmire += 5>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I don\'t get it."' 'idont7get'>><<setintelligence -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"That sounds... a little esoteric."' 'thatsounds7alittle'>><<setcompassionate -1>><<setcharisma -1>><<setcourage +1>><<set $wallmire -= 5>><</link>></li> </ul>

"The name says it all," you say. "Being of a thousand faces. It sounds as if Uusae M'ri is one central, organizing intelligence, but it can be splintered or made manifest into many different forms, vessels, and reflections. Or that reality itself is divinity: that all things compose an all-encompassing, immanent god, and that god is in all things. All forms of reality and the universe are either modes of that being, or identical with it." "Yes, that's exactly it," Saranae says excitedly. "And sometimes these forms can even be in conflict with each other—but they are still ultimately a part of Uusae M'ri. It's like when you have one part of you that demands to eat cake, and the other part that holds you back, but both parts are still ultimately <i>you</i>." <<include "soyour7ancestors">>

"Picture the universe as a mosaic," Wren tells you. "And Uusae M'ri is what forms the tiles. The individual tiles may each be of different colors or textures, or they may form different smaller pictures, but they are all ultimately united in one great image, and that image is Uusae M'ri." <<include "soyour7ancestors">>

"Ayla would call it <i>lulee</i>," Chase murmurs. It's Jalis slang for something that's dubiously or outlandishly mystical, bordering on irrational, or as the Wind-Mage would put it, "<i>batshit crazy</i>." Saranae frowns. "Whatever you may think, that's what we believe," she says stiffly. <<include "soyour7ancestors">>

"So your ancestors prayed to this god for salvation," Blade says, with a faint note of impatience. "What happened then?" "And it answered," Wren replies, a tone of reverence now entering xer voice. "It promised the Changelings that the remainder of them would be spared, and the rest of the world would forget about them… and that's exactly what happened. In return, Uusae M'ri asked that we form the <i>Tua'ti,</i> the Ancient Pact, with it. If we could forsake our powers, the very thing that the rest of the world hunted us for, and live in obscurity in the Bleakmoor, we would live in peace. If we ever broke the pact, either by exposing ourselves or using our powers in a way we had promised not to… the god would turn its full wrath on us as well." "And how exactly did Uusae M'ri cause everyone to forget about you?" Chase asks, his voice skeptical. Saranae looks at him, her face utterly serious. "Right after the elders made their prayer, the Castigation happened," she states in a clear, hard voice. "The world was plunged into chaos, and with everyone suddenly preoccupied, no one had any time to worry about the Changelings, not with the Norm armies marching on their doorsteps. We were able to escape, and since knowledge of us had already been eradicated, no one remembered to come looking for us. We vanished into obscurity, just as Uusae M'ri intended." <<include "uusae">>

<ul class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("soyoure7saying")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"So you\'re saying you believe your god caused the Castigation? As a ploy to make everyone else forget your existence?"</div>' 'soyoure7saying'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("howdo7youknow")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"How do you know about all of this? Was this taught to you by your elders?"</div>' 'howdo7youknow'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("whatwould7happenif")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"What would happen if you were to break the <i>Tua\'ti</i>?"</div>' 'whatwould7happenif'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("soyouve7never")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"So you\'ve never used your powers? Not even once?"</div>' 'soyouve7never'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("soyour7roleas")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"So your role as the <i>heguman</i> means what, exactly?"</div>' 'soyour7roleas'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("cyriland7surya")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Cyril and Surya mentioned none of this when they talked to us."</div>' 'cyriland7surya'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("doyou7believein")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Do <i>you</i> believe in Uusae M\'ri?"</div>' 'doyou7believein'>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link 'Wrap up the conversation. "So that\'s why you were under such pressure to hide the truth from us. You thought Uusae M\'ri would strike you dead if you broke your ancient promise."' 'wrapup7the'>><</link>></li> </ul>

"How else would you explain the timing?" Saranae asks, her voice stiff and her chin raised defensively. "The one thing that could have saved us and divert the world's attention just happened to occur after we made our sacred plea?" "And besides, both the worshipers of the old gods and the One-God believe stranger things," Wren points out. "They believe in all kinds of hells, divine punishments, judgment days and cataclysmic apocalypses. Why couldn't the Castigation be one of those?" <<include "uusae">>

"It's been passed down for generations," Wren answers. "We all know the story: anyone born in Wallmire is a direct descendant of those who banded together to make their pact with Uusae M'ri. It's the only reason any of us are alive today." <ul class="choices"> <<if $intelligence gte 65 and $cunning gte 40>><li><<link 'It sounds like convenient superstition that was invented to keep the younger generations frightened and obedient. You don\'t think that was really what went down.' 'itsoundslike7convenient'>><<setcunning +1>><<setintelligence +1>><<setfaith -1>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link 'It sounds like this was all coincidence: the Castigation happened to occur, and the Changelings chose to attribute it to the workings of their god.' 'all7coincidencethe'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Honestly, it seems to make sense. And who are you to question the existence of their god?' 'uusae'>><<setfaith +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

The Uusae M'ri story must have been invented by people so traumatized by their persecution that they would have done anything, said anything, to keep their children from venturing back out into a world fraught with danger and risk. Time and the nature of oral histories, which always change and conveniently fill in gaps and stretch truths, would have distorted the rest. Chase holds your glance for a moment before looking away. It's clear in that look that he completely agrees with you, although you choose to say nothing. <<include "uusae">>

You can see how it must have seemed like a miracle to the Changelings, and how it would have made them grateful and devoted to the god that saved them. People interpret things as the intervention of deities all the time. <<include "uusae">>

"That part was always left unsaid," Saranae murmurs. "Some legends said we'd be struck instantly deaf and blind; others said we would be swallowed whole by the swamp itself; still others claimed our insides would be transformed into lead and burning coals. But whatever the version, the elders were always terribly afraid of the consequences… to the point where they would punish those who broke the pact by cutting out their tongues." She pauses. "But they loved Berendal… she was the village darling. And over the generations, there were some who came to fear Uusae M'ri less and less, or even doubted its existence altogether. So they let Lyden live with her, and reasoned that it would not technically break the pact, not if only one man knew. But then the two of them wanted to leave, because of Thurl, and the adults feared what Uusae M'ri would do—or what the world would do, if they found out we Changelings still existed. And then we thought…" She shudders. "For a long time, we thought the Terror killing us off <i>was</i> Uusae M'ri's punishment, for not having ended the threat sooner. For not killing Lyden when we should have." "When, in reality, it was just the opposite," Red says quietly. "It was Thurl's punishment for the execution of his parents." "Or so we think," Wren sighs. "Perhaps Uusae M'ri's punishment came in the form of Thurl. It's all a matter of interpretation." <<include "uusae">>

"You're only surrounded by your own kind," Chase says. "What could be the risk in changing if it's only amongst yourselves, and you all know your own secret?" "It's what Uusae M'ri demanded," Saranae says archly. "It said that the more we indulged ourselves, the more we would lose our senses and risk being led astray again. Once you allow yourself to change into a deer or a fish, it's only a few steps away from wondering why you can't simply leave and see the world as a hawk or a rabbit, and how no one could ever possibly know the difference, and how you would never be discovered…" "It leads to recklessness," Wren says. "Though that's not to say we <i>never</i> changed. Changelings change even in the womb, so we did it as babies until we learned to control ourselves and could practice self-restraint." "Do you remember what it felt like?" Red asks curiously. They both shake their heads. "You stop so young that you don't really have clear memories of it," Saranae says. "Though it's nothing you can really quite forget how to do, either. To us, changing is like… running, or singing. It's not anything that has to be <i>taught</i>." "Life without song doesn't sound very pleasant," you observe. Wren shrugs. "If singing was dangerous for you, something that might someday lead to your entire life being uprooted and threatened… you would learn how to live without." <<include "uusae">>

Saranae frowns. "It's my duty to lead the village in all things… though I always thought I would have more time to learn from my grandmother. But the Changelings have naturally long lives, and whenever I asked her to tell me more or show me what I needed to do, she always waved her hand and said that we had time, or that I would learn soon enough, and I would always have her or the elders on-hand to answer any questions I had, and not to worry…" She trails off with a bitter look on her face. "Of course, we learned the hard way." "The <i>heguman</i> ultimately makes the decisions for our people," Wren says, glancing at xer wife sidelong, "but it's also her duty to ensure that they abide by the <i>Tua'ti</i>, and to protect them from exposure or outside threat. Our <i>auspex</i>, or priest, serves as her religious advisor in order to ensure that Uusae M'ri's will is being respected in her decisions; and I, the <i>gothi</i>, help her enforce our laws and ensure that the people are living in harmony and peace." "Did the Uusae M'ri choose you to be <i>heguman</i>?" Trouble asks shrewdly. Saranae's lips purse. "My forefather was chosen by the god to lead our people when the pact was made, yes," she says. "Our line has carried on that sacred duty ever since." <<include "uusae">>

"And I got the impression that they were being fairly open," you state. Saranae sighs and shakes her head. "They're still too young to understand the concept of Uusae M'ri as anything more than a name of a deity," she says. "We find that young ones find the nature of Uusae M'ri being in <i>everything</i> hard to grasp, and sometimes frightening. The elders who would have taught them in the proper manner, during their schooling, were killed by the… by Thurl early on." <<include "uusae">>

Wren nods swiftly, though Saranae hesitates a split second before doing the same. "Of course." <<nobr>><<if $cunning gte 50>> <i>But she would have to say that, wouldn't she?</i> you think. <i>She's the heguman. If she didn't believe in it, she wouldn't have have any power.</i> <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "uusae">>

"It's not just that," Wren butts in. "Yes, of course, we fear retribution from the god. But even if Uusae M'ri were to smite the two of us and spare those who did their best to keep the secret… we still feared what would happen if you were to carry the knowledge of our existence back with you. We have lived in peace for two hundred years. The world has finally forgotten us. But if they discover the Changelings still exist… we'll be press-ganged back into their service again. How could we not? How could they resist the temptation of using people with our particular powers? Or, worse… what if the entire cycle were to begin again?" And at this, both xe and Saranae lift their eyes and stare directly at you. There's a weighty, loaded silence as you all turn to look at Blade, whose expression is entirely impassive, devoid of either sympathy or anger. He finally says, in a soft, considering tone: "You're leaving it up to us." "What else can we do?" Saranae asks with a resigned shrug. "The <i>Tua'ti</i> demands that we kill you to ensure your silence… but you saved us. You saved our children, you saved our village, you finally rid us of the Terror…" She looks at you. "And you saved <i>me</i>. And there are no more elders to force our adherence to the pact any longer. I am the last authority left, and I say you'll be allowed to leave here freely, and with our thanks. No, we won't kill you or threaten you. We can only make our case and hope you choose to do the right thing. But we won't force you. You've earned the right to do with the knowledge what you will." So, here it is at last: the crux of the issue. It would be a simple enough matter to stick with the Wallmirans' initial version of events—that Thurl was some sort of demonspawn, or that he was pursuing the revenge-killings against the village for <i>thinking</i> he was a demonspawn—and leave the Changeling part out of it, especially once you make your reports to the Autarchy. But is that really what would be best for Wallmire? Continuing to live their isolated, confined existence in this swamp, almost a kind of prison even <i>without</i> the threat of the Terror, the inhabitants within only dimly aware of what's going on in the world outside? Even if they are technically 'safe,' is this state of being really worth living and dying without ever using their natural-born powers, so terrified to venture away from home that they'll never see the ocean or a city or hear a language other than their own? Or is it time for them to finally rejoin the world of living—even if it means forcibly dragging them back into the light? Whatever Blade thinks, it's clear that he's not about to discuss it in front of Wren and Saranae; he always plays his cards close to the chest, and isn't known for explaining himself to strangers. Trouble says softly, "You know the demons have come back to Blest, don't you? And sooner or later, they're going to make their way here. And if no one knows you even exist, no one's going to be able to send help to you, or form alliances when you need them… It'll be just like this, but ten times worse. By the time <i>we</i> got here, half of you had already been taken out, and that was only one man. If you stand alone, no one's going to be there for you in the future." "But no one else can harm us, either," Wren points out. "The world is different now," Chase cuts in. "Everyone's so busy worrying about the Endarkened that they've got no time for court games and espionage, and whatever else they used the Changelings for. And <i>everyone's</i> Diminished now—they all know what it's like to be used and persecuted for their powers—so I'm not sure your kind would stand out unduly." "That isn't exactly a ringing endorsement," Saranae says, her voice very flat. "I think the Autarchy would find some uses for us, wouldn't you think?" Red has been silent, looking deeply pensive up until now. He stirs at your glance and says, "Don't look at me. If I'd had my way, the Veiled Circle would have stayed a secret and in hiding from everyone, too. I can't condone the lying, but I understand it. We all have to do what we think we must in order to survive." "Even if the lies get <i>other</i> people killed?" Trouble asks, more calmly than you might have expected. "You Mages never asked us to come help you with a situation that you purposefully left us totally unprepared for. Either you strike out on your own and you stay that way, dealing with your own messes, or you ask for help and you tell the truth to the people who come to help you. You can't have it both ways." <<include "wrencolors7angrily">>

Wren colors angrily at that, while Saranae looks ashamed. It's clear this discussion is going to keep going in circles—but the word of the officer arguably most affected by the Changelings' secrets might help sway it one way or the other. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I don\'t think it\'s healthy for your people to keep living like this. You can\'t hide forever. I won\'t report you to the Autarchy, but I urge you to rejoin the rest of the world on your own terms."' 'dontthink7healthy'>><<set $changelingsstatus to "considering">><<set $wallmire += 5>><<setcharisma +3>><<setreputation +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"We need your help against the Endarkened. If we\'re going to keep fighting them on your behalf—on the <i>world\'s</i> behalf—you need to do your part, too. Why don\'t some of you join the Shepherds?"' 'weneed7yourhelp'>><<set $changelingsstatus to "considering">><<setcunning +3>><<setloyal +5>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Whatever their reasons, their secrets and deceptions nearly got you killed, and very possibly led the other teams to their deaths. You won\'t support their selfish cowardice any longer. "I\'m making my full report to the Autarchy. I\'m sick of lies, and I won\'t be lying on your behalf."' 'whatevertheir7reasons'>><<set $changelingsstatus to "exposed">><<fair_plus "$wallmire" -80>><<fair_plus "$compassionate" -15>><<setcunning +3>><<setcourage +3>><<fair_plus "$loyal" +10>><<setorder -5>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I understand why you would want to stay in hiding. The world is still a dangerous and thankless place. I won\'t say anything to give away your existence."' 'iunderstsand7why'>><<fair_plus "$compassionate" +10>><<setcunning -3>><<setloyal -5>><<set $changelingsstatus to "hidden">><<set $wallmire += 10>><</link>></li> </ul>

Saranae frowns, but she nods slowly. "I'll have to think about it," she says. "There's so much to do—we need to focus on rebuilding and recovering, and then there would be trying to convince the others on a course of action, teaching people how to use their powers responsibly, trying to prepare them for a world we haven't seen in centuries—a change so vast and frightening—and without any elders to guide us…" After a quick glance at her spouse and an answering shoulder-squeeze from Wren, she takes another breath and says, "It's not something that will be decided tonight. But thank you, <<c firstname>>. I promise you I'll take your words to heart. I'll try and give you an answer before you leave." <<include "youtalk7for">>

"You can't simply recline here in peace forever," you say. "Not while others work to defend you against an enemy that threatens the entire <i>world</i>—not just the parts that don't affect you. But if you join the Shepherds, you can learn how to live in the outside world again, revealing yourselves only to a select few and slowly transitioning to public life that way." Saranae frowns. "I'm not sure that committing ourselves to a military cause when none of us have used our powers, participated in combat, or even seen the outside world is the best thing to do," she says, "but I suppose I see your point. Our people fought in the Dawn Wars. Maybe it's time to take our rightful place in society once again." Then she shakes her head. "But I'll have to think about it. There's so much to do—we need to focus on rebuilding and recovering first, and then there's trying to convince the others on a course of action, teaching people how to use their powers responsibly, teaching them how to fight, trying to prepare them for a world we haven't seen in centuries—a change so vast and frightening—and without any elders to guide us…" After a quick glance at her spouse and an answering shoulder-squeeze from Wren, she takes another breath and says, "It's not something that will be decided tonight. But thank you, <<c firstname>>. I promise you I'll take your words to heart. And I'll try and give you an answer before you leave." <<include "youtalk7for">>

"You weren't looking out for us, and in fact, you might have even killed us to protect your secret if things hadn't shaken out the way they had," you say. "So why should I protect you, when you were willing to put my life at risk in order to keep yourselves safe?" You hear a sharp intake of breath from Wren, and Saranae's back goes ramrod-straight. But she only says coldly, "That's your decision, and you have the right to make it. I won't do anything to stop you, but I ask you to please reconsider. Think of Cyril and Surya." "They're your responsibility, not mine," you return. "I did my duty in keeping them safe from Thurl. Anything else is not in my domain." Wren is watching you with a strange, fierce light kindling in xer eyes, xer jaw set and ticking. But when you meet xer gaze with a challenge in your own, xe looks away. Xe says nothing at all to you for the rest of the night. <<include "youtalk7for">>

Saranae and Wren let out audible breaths of relief. "Thank you, <<c firstname>>," the heguman says softly, her green eyes alight with gratitude. "I swear to you, we will never forget your mercy or your compassion." <<include "youtalk7for">>

You talk for a while longer, but as the night crawls on, your mind begins to slow and blur, exhausted by the outgoing flood of adrenaline that's left you feeling spent and feverish. You begin to lose focus, only managing to recall bits and fragments of the conversation. <<nobr>><<if $thurldead is false>> Noticing your exhaustion, Red draws the discussion to one last point: "What will be done with Thurl?" <br><br> "What we always do with proven murderers," Blade answers swiftly. Again, he uses that same quiet, even tone that's far more threatening than a shout. "We'll deliver him to the nearest Inquisitor outpost for sentencing: you can translocate us there and back. With the amount of evidence against him and our recommendations, they'll execute him within a day, if not an hour." <br><br> "No, leave him with us," Wren cuts in. "It won't matter to the Autarchy whether they execute him or we do, will it? Either way, he'll be dead. And being able to do it ourselves will give us a sense of closure and peace. He killed so many of our own… each and every one of us has a loved one that he murdered. It will bring us one step closer to healing if we can exact justice on him ourselves and then move on, knowing he can't come back to hurt us ever again." <br><br> "You already had your chance thirty years ago," Blade answers bluntly, with flat and brutal efficiency. Chase inclines his head in a slow nod, his fingers tapping gently against the tabletop in a restless tune. <br><br> Wren frowns, but before xe can respond, Trouble says in a curious tone: "What would you do to him?" <br><br> "He'd be given our worst punishment," the <i>gothi</i> answers darkly. "His arms and legs would be cut off and scattered over the fens as chum. The rest of him would be given to the bloodmorphs, so that the Bleakmoor may reclaim his flesh and bones." <br><br> "Given to the bloodmorphs… <i>alive</i>?" Red echoes. <br><br> Saranae and Wren's grim expressions give you all the answer you need. <br><br> Trouble glances at you. "What do you think, <<c firstname>>? You're the one who actually had to fight him, so you should be the one to decide." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I don\'t care what happens to him, so long as he can never hurt anybody ever again."' 'whathappens7tohim'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Give him to the Wallmirans. They deserve to have their revenge."' 'givehim7to'>><<set $wallmire += 20>><<set $thurldead to true>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Give him to the Inquisitors. We do it the proper way."' 'givehim7inquisitors'>><<set $wallmire -= 20>><</link>></li> </ul> <<else>> Noticing your exhaustion, Blade draws the discussion to one last point: "What will be done with Thurl's body?" <br><br> "He'll be given our worst punishment," Wren answers darkly. "His corpse will be drawn, quartered, butchered, and scattered over the fens. Most of it will be chum for the carrion and the creatures of the swamp. The head and torso will be given to the bloodmorphs. In this way, the Bleakmoor will reclaim his flesh and bones." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Justice well served."' 'justicewell7served'>><<set $wallmire += 3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Well, thanks for that image right before I go to sleep."' 'wellthanks7for'>><<set $wallmire -= 3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"And it still won\'t be enough."' 'andit7still'>><<set $wallmire += 5>><</link>></li> </ul> <</if>><</nobr>>

Blade nods. "Fine. Then we're giving him to the Inquisitors, as is procedure." The significant look he cuts at Wren and Saranae kills any argument before it can even be made. <<include "withthat7decided">>

Saranae gives you a grateful look, and although Blade frowns, he ultimately inclines his head. "Fine. But we will have to serve as witnesses. I need to make sure he's well and truly dead." <<include "withthat7decided">>

And, to be honest, you're not completely sure if the Wallmirans <i>deserve</i> to have their revenge. They wronged Thurl first, after all. Saranae closes her eyes, but seems to accept your verdict. Blade nods and says, "Fine. We'll follow procedure, as is proper." The significant look he cuts at Wren kills any argument before it can even be made. <<include "withthat7decided">>

"Hear, hear," Wren murmurs. <<include "withthat7decided">>

"We suffered far worse nightmares at his hands for months," Wren murmurs. <<include "withthat7decided">>

"Hear, hear," Wren murmurs. <<include "withthat7decided">>

With that decided, you're finally free to stagger back to your room and clean yourself up while the others take care of the remaining details. In the haze of your exhaustion, you think you might hear some noise starting up outside the <i>heguman's</i> walls: a choir of voices, a song of lament, a hymn of triumph, the chorusing of frogs, the hush and whisper of returning rain—it could be all of those things, or none of them. You're too weary to try and figure it out. All you know is that it's not a threat to you, and that you no longer have to fear the sounds of voices you don't know. Instead, you sink swiftly into the dark waters of sleep, losing yourself to blissful oblivion. You never even feel your head hit the pillow. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "withthat7decidedi">><</link>></center>

<<timed 3s>><<goto "withthat7decidedii">><</timed>> <center><div class="dot"> /* <<timed 1s t8n>> ... <<next>>... <<next>>... <</timed>>*/ <span class="next">[[Next|withthat7decidedii]]</span></div></center>

<center><div class="dot"> <<timed 2s t8n>> ... <<next>>... <<next>>... <</timed>><span class="next">[[Next|threedays7later]]</span></div></center> <<timed 7s>><<goto "threedays7later">><</timed>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Three Days Later</span></div></div>' "threedays7later">><<set $health to 100>><</link>></center>

<<set $health to 100>><span class="splash">Three Days Later</span><span class="splashblur">"Well, I've got to say, I <i>love</i> what she's done with the place." Three days later, you find yourself standing in front of what you've taken to thinking as Mimir's ancient temple, knee-deep in still, tranquil water blooming with lily pads and fronds. You'd have thought that the bad weather that trailed you all the way into the Bleakmoor would have lessened after Thurl's demise, but it turned out the two things were unrelated: the last few days have been battered by periods of torrential rain and then confusing pockets of clear skies and even rare glimpses of sunshine. Now, the temple you'd been chased into by the Asag sits in an entirely transformed landscape: the waterline of the marsh has swollen to such an extent that the ruins seem to rise up out of a flat, vast lake rather than the damp, spongy moss you remember from before. The trek here was even more miserable than the first time, the cold water sloshing in through the tops of your knee-high boots; but at least the water is clear and placid rather than gray and murky, fish swimming lazily around your ankles and even tentative flowers beginning to unfurl as they dip their heads towards the water. A surprisingly pleasing and serene picture, one that Chase has tipped his head back to (somewhat sarcastically) admire. No bloodmorphs or leeches here, for once: it's as if the swamp has been cleansed and made anew by the recent storms. You already made your goodbyes to Saranae's family and the people of Wallmire earlier this morning. <<nobr>><<if $changelingsstatus is "exposed">> It was an awkward affair, and Cyril and Surya weren't even allowed to say goodbye to you, but at least you were allowed to leave in peace— though you felt the silent eyes of the villagers following you like baleful searchlights. Even now, you wonder if they're still secretly following you, in the guise of bats or birds, watching you to see what you do. Saranae and Wren hardly said a word to you when you left. <br><br> <<include "nowthere7isonly">> <<elseif $changelingsstatus is "hidden">> It was a slightly awkward affair, knowing that you were likely never going to see any of them ever again, and the sad looks Cyril and Surya gave you—well aware that they'd never be able to write or communicate with you—made it all feel very final. But in the end, Wallmire was just like all the other towns and settlements that you've helped on your missions: you always pass through, save the day, and then take your leave again, and life for everyone simply goes on. This was really not that different—the people you helped just happened to have unusual powers, in this case. And everyone also believes them to be extinct. <br><br> "No big deal," Trouble had muttered, sarcastic. <br><br> <<include "cyrilsprize">> <<elseif $changelingsstatus is "considering">> <<if (($asaggone is true and $wallmire gte 55) or ($numberofasag lte 25 and $wallmire gte 60)) or ($numberofasag lte 50 and $wallmire gte 65)>> <<set $changelingjoin to true>><<set $changelingsstatus to "join">><<set $uusaemri to true>>In the end, Saranae agreed to begin taking steps to allow a small number of Changelings back into the world, initially to act as more <i>yegrim</i> for the village, or scouts. "It will be a slow process," she warned. "We still need to focus on rebuilding here, and even though Thurl and the Asag are gone, I won't split our forces up too drastically, or force those who don't want to leave to do so. But I've talked it over with the other townsfolk, and they largely agree: we can't remain in this swamp forever. Better to start preparing ourselves for the inevitable now, rather than be caught unawares again in the future." <br><br> "But you won't be joining the Shepherds?" you asked. <br><br> The <i>heguman</i> shook her head. "Not yet. We're not ready. We need time to become comfortable with using our powers again, time to gather information and familiarize ourselves with the world outside… We've been nothing more than sheltered fisherfolk for so long. We're simply not combat-ready <i>or</i> mentally prepared to throw ourselves back into the fray like that. But that's not to say your offer wasn't tempting." She shrugged. "I'm not saying we won't show up on your doorstep someday—maybe even someday soon. But it's not something I can promise overnight. We need time to dip our toes into the water first." <br><br> "In the meantime," Wren said, "our scouts will be keeping an eye on your order. Should you ever need our help, we'll know." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"How will we know who your scouts are?"' 'howwill7we'>><<setreputation +5>><<set $army += 5>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"That\'s about the best news as we could have hoped for."' 'thatsthe7best'>><<setreputation +5>><<set $army += 5>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"That\'s fine. Take your time."' 'thatsfine7take'>><<setreputation +5>><<set $army += 5>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Good luck."' 'goodluck7luck'>><<setreputation +5>><<set $army += 5>><</link>></li> </ul> <<else>> <<set $changelingsstatus to "hidden">>In the end, Saranae declined to have Wallmire rejoin the outside world, deeming them too fragile in the wake of Thurl's slow campaign. "Our numbers are too few, the Asag are still a threat to the village, and we need to focus our efforts on recovery and rebuilding," she told you firmly. "We're not ready. Maybe someday, in a generation or two… we can begin laying the groundwork. But for now, I don't believe it's in the best interests of my people to throw ourselves back into the fray when we've been so weakened. Splitting our numbers like that when we need people to defend Wallmire more than ever simply doesn't make sense." <br><br> You'd nodded: it was always her decision, and hers alone. Apparently the world isn't ready for the return of the Changelings… and neither are the Changelings themselves. But maybe someday. <br><br> <<include "nowthere7isonly">> <</if>> <<else>> <<set $changelingsstatus to "hidden">>In the end, Saranae declined to have Wallmire rejoin the outside world, deeming them too fragile in the wake of Thurl's slow campaign. "Our numbers are too few, the Asag are still a threat to the village, and we need to focus our efforts on recovery and rebuilding," she told you firmly. "We're not ready. Maybe someday, in a generation or two… we can begin laying the groundwork. But for now, I don't believe it's in the best interests of my people to throw ourselves back into the fray when we've been so weakened. Splitting our numbers like that when we need people to defend Wallmire more than ever simply doesn't make sense." <br><br> You'd nodded: it was always her decision, and hers alone. Apparently the world isn't ready for the return of the Changelings… and neither are the Changelings themselves. But maybe someday. <br><br> <<include "nowthere7isonly">> <</if>><</nobr>></span>

Saranae had smiled, a little mischievously. "That's the point, isn't it? You won't." <<include "cyrilsprize">>

And you'd clasped hands in a final gesture of gratitude and friendship. <<include "cyrilsprize">>

Saranae had nodded. "Thank you. We'll use the time to prepare ourselves… and I suspect you'll be seeing us again before long." "I look forward to it." And you'd clasped hands in a final gesture of gratitude and friendship. <<include "cyrilsprize">>

"No," Saranae had said, "good luck to <i>you</i>. And thank you. We'll never forget what you and the others have done for us." And you'd clasped hands in a final gesture of gratitude and friendship. <<include "cyrilsprize">>

Cyril and Surya even presented you with a ceremonial token of their thanks: a small, strange hourglass-shaped container filled with a moving, iridescent kind of liquid resembling a cross between melted wax and an oil slick, which shifts and oozes into mesmerizing shapes when the hourglass is flipped—almost as if the fluid within is alive. Cyril shyly explained that it was some sort of totem meant to represent the ever-changing faces of Uusae M'ri, the Changelings' god, and that the material inside was some kind of rare metallic substance found only in the very depths of the swamp. "Just like us," Surya had added proudly. Wren had cast you a sidelong, serious-eyed look. "Though not for long," xe murmured. <<include "nowthere7isonly">>

Now, there's only one order of business left before Red translocates the lot of you back to the town where you'd left your ahfuri: the question of what to do with Mimir. "We can't just leave her there," Trouble had argued one night as you sat around the hearthfire. "I'm pretty sure she'd starve to death." "I'm not in disagreement," Blade answered irritably, "but what are we to do with her afterwards? Her needs are… unique, and I'm not looking forward to worrying about another mouth to feed in the Order." "Well, it's not as if she eats much," Red pointed out mildly. "And I would think her ability to tell the future could prove very useful to the Shepherds, wouldn't you?" Blade had thrown him a look of utter disdain. "Only if one was willing to sift through hours of cryptic murmuring and uncertain vagaries. And what if she doesn't <i>want</i> to join the Shepherds? Will we take her in by force?" "Let's see what she wants when we see her, first," you'd answered. "She did say we had to visit her again once we finished up our business in Wallmire. I'm curious what she has to say." So now here you are, wading up to the temple's foreboding steps, <<nobr>><<if $changelingsstatus is "exposed">> trying not to slip on the slick lichen. <<else>> your packs well-laden with gifts and dried goods from Wallmire. <</if>><</nobr>> Like a ghost, Mimir materializes silently at the temple's open entrance, staring down at you as impassively as if you had pre-arranged the time of your arrival. "Good," she says in her faint wisp of a voice. "You came. I've finally got it working." And with that, she turns on her bare foot and glides away, back up the stairs to the temple's hidden chambers. You glance at the others, who shrug, looking mystified, before you turn to follow. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "mimirleads7you">><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<if settings.music is true>><<audio "templeupstairs" volume 0 fadeoverto 5 0.05>><</if>><</nobr>>Mimir leads you into the temple's inner sanctum once more, and you're shocked to find it as transformed as the landscape outside: where the air was once merely thick and warm with sleepy power, it now feels positively <i>alive</i>, thrumming and sparking with so much energy that it almost feels hard to breathe. Your hair stands on end, and your skin crackles and tightens as if in the presence of static. All over the room, ancient devices and glyph-lined panels are racing with threads of silvery, liquid light. When you look at the others, you find them similarly affected by the power now alive in the room: Red's warhammer, slung over his shoulder, is flickering of its own accord with a faint red glow, and Blade's eyes are shaded with arma. The gold around Trouble's pupils is more vivid than ever, and Chase flexes his hands over and over, working his jaw and bouncing on his heels, as if eager to run a marathon. "How did you accomplish this?" Red asks Mimir in an awed voice. "This isn't magic, so how did you…" "The gods have no hands in this world but ours," the Seer says in reply. "If we fail them, where then can they turn?" "Yes, but…" Then she turns to you. "This leyline is almost broken, <<c firstname>>: we don't have much time. Almost all of the power has been drained from it, and afterward, it will lay dark and empty, just like all the other sites. But for now, it still has a drop of power still left inside of it. It only needs your answering spark to kickstart the process." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Process?"' 'sheleads7you'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"My spark?"' 'my7sparkmimir'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Broken?"' 'broken7mimiryes'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"What do you need me to do?"' 'sheleads7you'>><<setmimir +1>><<setfaith +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Mimir nods, almost impatiently. "I am not a full kithma," she says. "I am only a descendant, an incarnation: only a drop of the holy blood flows through my veins. I was enough to activate the beacon, but only you can call and have them answer." <<include "sheleads7you">>

Mimir nods, almost impatiently. "I told you before," she says. "All the other ones are dead. Using this last one will exhaust it for good. But the voices demand it, so we must use it to answer them." <<include "sheleads7you">>

She leads you to the center of the room, where a towering monolith or pillar seems to ascend up into the temple's pointed roof. The plinth at the base of the monolith has a kind of square panel set into it, almost like a small window glowing brilliantly with nacreous internal light. As you approach the panel, you can feel the heat and power throbbing from it, pleasant enough to make it feel as if your veins are being bathed in sunlight, and perhaps as if something within you is stirring and stretching like a wakening cat in the warmth—but if you stand in its light for too long, the sensation begins to edge into uncomfortable, like being singed under magnified glass. Mimir places her hand against the bright pane of the monolith, unflinching, as if to show you that it won't harm you. Then she turns to you expectantly, letting her hand fall away. "The <i>calantar</i>," she says. <<nobr>><<if $heritage is "Elf">> It's not an Elvish word, exactly, but it's something close: your brain cobbles together something along the lines of 'light-bringer.' <</if>><</nobr>> "The luminary." You turn your eyes up at it, scanning the surface for any indication of what it does. The only things of note are the panel made of light and an unknown symbol carved towards the point where the monolith meets the ceiling. "…What am I supposed to do with it?" "You must drink from the stream," Mimir tells you blandly. "But take care not to drink too much, for yours is still only a mortal vessel." You look at the luminary. <<include "monolith">>

<ul class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("umm7whatsgoing")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"Um..."</div>' 'umm7whatsgoing'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("lookhelplessly7at")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">Look helplessly at the others.</div>' 'lookhelplessly7at'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $possessed is false>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Touch your hand against the luminary.</div>' 'touchyour7handagainst'>><<fair_plus "$mimir" +15>><<fair_plus "$courage" +10>><<setfaith +3>><<setloyal +5>><<setmagic +3>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Touch your hand against the luminary.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $possessed is false>><li><<link 'Back away.' 'backaway7you'>><<fair_plus "$mimir" -30>><<fair_plus "$loyal" -10>><<fair_plus "$courage" -10>><<setcunning +3>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $possessed is true>><li><<link '<b><i>BACK AWAY.</i></b>' 'back7awayyour'>><<set $mimir to 0>><<setloyal -10>><<setcompassionate -15>><<setreputation -1>><<settrouble -5>><<setred -5>><</link>></li><</if>> </ul>

"…What's going on?" you ask, total bafflement apparent in your tone. "What is this?" Mimir only stands there, staring at you. In the pearlescent glow of the luminary, her silver eyes look as blank and white as a ghost's. <<nobr>><<if $possessed is true>> <br><br> <b><i>Danger,</i></b> a voice inside of you whispers. <b><i>Do not trust her. </i></b> <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "monolith">>

Blade, his eyes narrowed, shakes his head tightly; Trouble shrugs at you, looking nonplussed. Red's expression is alive with total and absorbed curiosity, while Chase looks both mildly intrigued and uneasily suspicious. None of them seem to know what to say. <<nobr>><<if $possessed is true>> <br><br> <b><i>Back away</i></b>, some instinct inside you says. You haven't heard that voice in a long time. <b><i>This is a trap!</i></b> <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "monolith">>

Feeling the monolith pulse unnervingly, as if it senses your decision, you swallow and raise your hand to press your palm against the glowing panel. <<include "instantly7fireexplodes">>

You begin to sidle back from the monolith, and Mimir frowns, as if she hadn't anticipated this. Then, quicker than you ever could have expected, she grasps your wrist gently and presses your palm against the luminary herself. <<include "instantly7fireexplodes">>

<<nobr>><<if settings.music is true>><<audio ":playing" fadeout>><</if>><</nobr>>Your heart hammering in your ears, you step back from the luminary. Mimir's eyes widen, as if she hadn't anticipated this, and she reaches out, as if to touch you. Unbidden, your hand slaps hers away. "Don't touch me," you snarl, and your voice sounds suddenly sharp and brittle and foreign to your ears. Something ugly is muttering somewhere in the back of your mind. "You're not going to get me to touch that <b><i>thing</i></b>." Your skull suddenly feels too tight, as if your brain is threatening to burst out of its confines. Your chest is heaving, as if you suddenly can't catch your breath. Mimir must see something in your expression, even through the veil of her cursed sight, because she draws back from you in something like fear. "This is wrong," she murmurs, her brow furrowing. "This isn't… this path is not the correct one." You're suddenly sick of her damned ramblings. "I don't care about your <i>paths</i>," you spit at her. "I'm choosing my own, and that's the one that leads home. You can come with us or not, it's your choice. But you're not going to force me into doing something I don't want to do." You turn around and exit the chamber, leaving the strange, glowing devices and the silent luminary behind. You don't have to turn your head to know that the others are staring after you, as startled and confused as if they had found a stranger standing in your place. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>End Chapter</span></div></div>' "endchapterscreen7">><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<if settings.music is true>><<audio ":playing" fadeout>><</if>><</nobr>>Instantly, fire explodes in your brain. You feel an unspeakable, celestial flame race up your arm, searing your nerves, sending your blood and magic into an explosive boil. Light explodes through your vision as vast, senseless power surges through you. It's your thirteenth birthday, it's every Word of Power you've ever spoken, it's swallowed starlight and summer lightning and a thousand deafening voices blaring in a thousand unknowable tongues <i>it's too big too strong too <b>much</b></i>— You feel something shatter inside of you like a dying star. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>End Chapter</span></div></div>' "theinterlude">><</link>></center>

<div class="box"><span class="endchaptersummary"> <center><span class="heading">Chapter Summary</span></center> <br> <span class="bulleticon"><span class="fas fa-chevron-right"></span></span>&emsp; You received a request to aid the town of Wallmire, an isolated backwater settlement deep within the Bleakmoor Marshes. According to the reports, an unknown threat was not only keeping the villagers of Wallmire trapped within the swamp; it was also creeping into their town by night and picking off its victims one-by-one. Three Shepherd teams sent ahead of you to investigate had already met their demise at the hands of this unknown threat. <br><br><span class="bulleticon"><span class="fas fa-chevron-right"></span></span>&emsp; After braving the myriad dangers of the swamp, you arrived to find half of Wallmire's population already decimated by "the Terror." A new outsider had also arrived ahead of you, making her camp in a nearby ruin. However, the two incidents happened to be unrelated: the mysterious traveler, Mimir, was a prophetess who claimed to be able to see into the future, while the answer to Wallmire's Terror lay in its past. <br><br><span class="bulleticon"><span class="fas fa-chevron-right"></span></span>&emsp; <<if $thurlshouse is true>> After investigating an abandoned house at Mimir's suggestion, you discovered two things: that a Mage named Lyden had once lived in that house, and that the villagers of Wallmire had killed him and his family for practicing the dark arts thirty years ago. <</if>> <<if recall ("achieve_swamp")>> You also discovered the truth about Wallmire's closed society: rather than Norm villagers, the Wallmirans were actually Changelings, a race of shapeshifters once thought to have gone extinct after they withdrew from the world, tired of being used for their skills in espionage and deception. The Wallmirans swore to never reveal their true nature to outsiders, and partly formed a mob against Lyden and his family in order to protect their ancient secret. <<else>> You did your best to investigate Wallmire's tangled and thorny secrets, but you were ultimately unable to uncover the true reason behind its tragedies before you were attacked. <</if>> <br><br><span class="bulleticon"><span class="fas fa-chevron-right"></span></span>&emsp; A man named Thurl slipped into the village in disguise. <<if recall ("achieve_wolfinsheep")>> You were able to defend yourself before he carried out his plan, however, pursuing him into the swamp. <<else>> You were not able to see through his guise, however, leading to his capture of Wallmire's leader, Saranae. <</if>> You discovered that Thurl was the Terror, a Changeling-Mage hybrid who used his powers to control the Asag—Tainted creatures capable of stealing voices—and murder the Wallmirans as revenge for their slaughter of his parents thirty years ago. <br><br><span class="bulleticon"><span class="fas fa-chevron-right"></span></span>&emsp; <<if $thurlfail is true>> Thurl caught and bound you with his powerful Enchanting magic, necessitating your rescue by your team members and Thurl's subsequent death. <<else>> You broke free of Thurl's Enchanting magic, <<if $thurldead is true>> executing Thurl before your team arrived to help you. <<elseif $thurlmercy is true>> defeating him in battle before offering him clemency and imprisonment in the Ashen Vault prison for his crimes. <<else>> defeating in battle before returning him to Wallmire, <<if $thurldead is true>> where the Wallmirans executed him in their own brand of vigilante justice. <<else>> where you decided to give him to the Inquisitors and imprisonment in the Ashen Vault to await trial for his crimes. <</if>> <</if>> <</if>> Together, you and your team did battle against his Asag as well, <<if $asaggone is true>> eliminating them from the area for good. <<else>> driving them out of the area... for now. <</if>> <br><br><span class="bulleticon"><span class="fas fa-chevron-right"></span></span>&emsp; As a result of your actions, the truth about Wallmire and the Changelings was brought to light. In the end, you decided to <<if $changelingstatus is "exposed">> make your full and honest report to the Autarchy about the events that transpired, meaning that knowledge about the Changelings will soon make its way out into the world once more. <<elseif $changelingstatus is "hidden">> agree to keep their status and location a secret from the Autarch and the rest of the world. <<elseif $changelingstatus is "join">> respect their desire for privacy while still urging them to consider rejoining the rest of the world. While they're not quite ready to make the leap yet, you can count on the Changelings' support in the future. <</if>> <br><br><span class="bulleticon"><span class="fas fa-chevron-right"></span></span>&emsp; Before returning home, you decided to bring Mimir back to Haven with you. She believes that she is a descendant of the <i>kithma</i>, a group of the gods-chosen vessels and champions that were once tasked with bringing divine light and order back to the world. Believing you to be a true <i>kithma</i> in your own right, Mimir asked you to speak to her gods through the use of an ancient luminary... <<if $possessed is true>> but you refused. It all sounded like a load of tripe, anyway... <</if>> </span><span class="endchaptersummary2"></span></div> <br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "endchapter7levelup">> <<set $part to 8>> <<set $health to 100>> <<set $gold += 100>> <<set $numberofshepherds += 1>> <<set $mimirjoin to true>> <<if $shepherdsknow is false and $possessed is false>> <<setblade -10>> <<settrouble -10>> <<settallys -10>> <<setshery -10>> <<setriel -10>> <<setchase -10>> <<set $chaseharden -= 1>> <<setred -10>> <<setayla -10>> <<set $aylaharden -= 1>> <<setbriony -10>> <<set $brionyharden -= 1>> <<setlavinet -10>> <<sethalek -10>> <<set $cantbecommander += 3>> <<setloyal -5>> <</if>><</link>></center>

<<unset $toldlavi>> <<unset $sherysdiary>> <<unset $talkedto>> <<unset $talkedtoblade>> <<unset $talkedtotrouble>> <<unset $talkedtoshery>> <<unset $talkedtoriel>> <<unset $talkedtochase>> <<unset $talkedtored>> <<unset $talkedtohalek>> <<unset $mimirproceed>> <<unset $mimirproceed2>> <<unset $chaseroom>> <<unset $thurlsdisguise>> <<unset $kaidir>> <<unset $faris>> <<unset $bloodmorph>> <<unset $saranaeclue>> <<unset $thirtyyearsago>> <<unset $berendalspendant>> <<unset $asagattack>> <<unset $cavepartner>> <<unset $triedtodivinemimir>> <<unset $thurlshouse>> <<unset $troublespoon>> <<unset $asaggone>> <<unset $lockwoodmulti>> <<unset $lockwoodprice>> <<unset $shopkeeper>> <<unset $ryzardquestion1>> <<unset $knowledgespirit>> <<unset $methodofthurl>> <<unset $totherescue>> <<unset $talkedaboutasag>> <<unset $asaglure>> <<unset $invadethurl>> <<unset $freeyourselffromthurl>> <<unset $thurlpatience>> <<unset $whythurl>> <<unset $whythurl2>> <<unset $whythurl3>> <<unset $killshepherds>> <<unset $numberofasag>> <<unset $thurlsdeath>> <<achieve "achieve_mimirjoin">> <<if $changelingjoin is true>><<achieve "achieve_changelingjoin">><</if>> <div class="box"><span class="column-icon"><span class="endchaptericon"><i class="fas fa-coins"></i></span></span><span class="column-2"><span class="heading">Gold</span><br> You received 100 deucalions as part of your personal Shepherd's pay. </span></div> <div class="box"><span class="column-icon"><span class="endchaptericon"><i class="fas fa-trophy"></i></span></span><span class="column-2"><span class="heading">Achievements</span><br><<if $changelingjoin is true>> You unlocked two new <span class="entrylink">[[achievements|Achievements]]</span>: <b> Sister of the Silver Eye </b> and <b>Fairy-born and Human-bred.</b><<else>> You unlocked a new <span class="entrylink">[[achievement|Achievements]]</span>: <b> Sister of the Silver Eye. </b><</if>></span></div> <div class="box"><span class="column-icon"><span class="endchaptericon"><i class="fas fa-heart"></i></span></span><span class="column-2"><span class="heading">Relationships</span><br>New companions have been added to your <span class="entrylink">[[relationships|Relationships]]</span> page.</span></div> <div class="box"><span class="column-icon"><span class="endchaptericon"><i class="fas fa-first-aid"></i></span></span><span class="column-2"><span class="heading">Health</span><br>Your health has been fully restored.</span></div> <<page_break "Proceed to Next Chapter" "startchapter8">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "ending7i">><</link>></center>

This route is currently incomplete and will be finished later. Please check the "Incomplete Routes Guide" linked at the top of the Patreon alpha build post on how to avoid this route and proceed with the game until more content for this path can be written.<<nobr>><<dialog 'Alpha Build'>>This section is not yet complete and will be more polished in the final version of the game. Please check the "Incomplete Routes Guide" linked at the top of the Patreon alpha build post on how to avoid this route and proceed with the game until more content for this path can be written. <br><br> <center><<button 'Confirm'>><<dialogclose>><</button>></center> <</dialog>><</nobr>>

<<if $festivalpartner is "blade">> <<include "bladefestivalarrives">> <<elseif $festivalpartner is "trouble">> <<include "troublefestivalarrives">> <<elseif $festivalpartner is "tallys">> <<include "tallysfestivalarrives">> <<elseif $festivalpartner is "shery">> <<include "sheryfestivalarrives">> <<elseif $festivalpartner is "riel">> <<include "rielfestivalarrives">> <<elseif $festivalpartner is "chase">> <<include "chasefestivalarrives">> <<elseif $festivalpartner is "red">> <<include "redfestivalarrives">> <<elseif $festivalpartner is "ayla">> <<include "aylafestivalarrives">> <<elseif $festivalpartner is "halek">> <<include "halekfestivalarrives">> <<elseif $festivalpartner is "briony">> <<include "brionyfestivalarrives">> <<else>> <<include "lavinetfestivalarrives">> <</if>>

<<nobr>><<if settings.music is true>><<audio ":playing" fadeout>><</if>><</nobr>>"HEAR YE! HEAR YE! COME ONE AND ALL TO SEE THE HAVEN PLAYERS' FINEST WORK YET!" "Original play this way! Original play! Performed by the best acting troupe in all the city!" "Get your tickets now! Sold-out shows every night! Get your tickets here!" "Special outdoor performance, festival night only! Don't miss your chance to see this critically-acclaimed play under the stars!" As you move through another plaza, you're arrested by the voices of several professional callers, some high and mellifluous, one baritone and deep, all unseen from behind the heads of the crowd moving in a bright, rippling mass in front of you. The voices seem to have an army of helpers, though, because shortly thereafter, one of them helpfully shoves a flier into your hand. <<nobr>><<set $loadPassage to Story.get("chandrysplaybill").text;>> <<letter_holder "note" $loadPassage>><</nobr>> You feel a sinking feeling in your gut as you lift your eyes to <<c festivalpartner>>'s. This isn't... This couldn't be... <<nobr>><<if $festivalpartner is "trouble">>"Well, we obviously <i>have</i> to go," Trouble says, straight-faced.<</if>><</nobr>> <<page_break "..." "chandrysemberislandplay2">>

<<set $playsouvenir to "">>You immediately regret going. It starts out innocuously enough: the Haven Players are staging their performance in a special outdoor amphitheatre, ringed by tiered rows of open-air seats that are impressively packed with chattering spectators. It seems to be a full house tonight. A few vendors wander the rows, selling concessions or small souvenirs from portable cases slung around their necks; the air feels alive and humming with murmured excitement. After the cramped bustle of the streets outside, it's actually refreshing to be able to sit and have a breather in the cool night breeze. Then a mournful refrain from a valke somewhere sounds; the heavy, dramatic curtains obscuring the stage draw up in breathless silence. All of your feelings of tentative optimism disappear. <<nobr>><<if $shopvisit gte 3>>Chandry stands in front of you, poised in unusually-dark clothing save for an enormous white ruff clasped around his neck like a pale lion's mane; his expression is schooled into one of utmost gravity and solemnity. The look is <i>extremely</i> at odds with the fact that he's still wearing his clown makeup, though it has a silvery, monochromatic cast tonight rather than the usual garish colors. <<elseif $shopvisit lt 1>>A tall, lanky man stands in front of you, poised in dark clothing save for an enormous white ruff clasped around his neck like a pale lion's mane; his expression is schooled into one of utmost gravity and solemnity, despite the fact that his face is—bizarrely—painted like a clown's. <<else>>A tall, lanky actor stands in front of you, poised in dark clothing save for an enormous white ruff clasped around his neck like a pale lion's mane; his expression is schooled into one of utmost gravity and solemnity.<</if>><</nobr>> He takes a deep, theatrical breath, then belts out, in a voice filled with sweeping grandeur: <center> "<i>Attend, fair folk, and lend thy list'ning hearts: A tale unfolds of fire, fang, and fate— Of oaths once sworn 'neath a blood-stained star, And lambs who dreamt they led, yet fell cleaved by butcher's hate. From cinders rose the hounds of prophecy— Not dogs of flesh, but wolves of will and word, Who bore the burden of the world unseen And pierced the veil of all things unheard. The sun, betrayed; the moon, a secret kept. The song of dawn, once silenced, sung anew. In the storm a spark rose where gods once wept; From the embers of fair Haven, that light burned and grew. No shepherd's staff this chosen soul did wield, But sword and flame and eyes that would not yield. The hounds were loosed; the old banners broke and burned. The meek stood tall; the faithful's gaze was turned. And in battling tides of power and deceit, The line 'twixt guard and monster did hurr'edly retreat. So mark the stage, and see what truths remain, When wolves lead the charge, and heroes bear the chain.</i>" </center> <<nobr>><<if $festivalpartner is "trouble">><br><br>Trouble has sunk so low in his seat that his knees practically touch his shoulders. "Oh God," he mutters. "Oh God, oh God."<</if>><</nobr>> <<page_break "Act One: Part One" "act1part1play">>

The narrator withdraws, and is shortly replaced by the appearance of a character named only as the Voice of the Waking Flame: a short, muscular, scowling, fiercely-serious $woman with $eyecolor eyes and a wig of the most unconvincing $haircolor hair you've ever seen. You watch in horror as the Voice of the Waking Flame, also referred to irregularly as the Hero, paces back and forth through a forest, cradling a bundle with an infant doll wrapped in it. A weedy-looking actress dressed in noblewoman's clothes, gifted with a whiny, nasally voice and a singularly-annoying demeanor, enters, draping herself across the Hero's shoulders and simpering out a song about class divides and forbidden love. Her voice throbs with longing for the Hero, but $she <<nobr>><<if $plural is true>>shove<<else>>shoves<</if>><</nobr>> her cruelly away, roaring out, "BEGONE, WOMAN! I am far too busy caring for this abandoned child to pay heed to your wicked ways! Your <i>wiles</i>!" A few voices in the audience call out approval for the Hero's chastity; others gasp in sympathy for poor, jilted Praline. The Hero sets $her jaw and marches back and forth, delivering a grand speech about protecting baby Pain's innocence, as the Hero <<print $them>>self never received such safety and love as a child... (Cue more sympathetic murmurs from the audience.) Praline, full of stormy tears, decides to betroth herself to a withered old man that she encounters in the street, seemingly at random; he's so ancient that he's little better than a walking skeleton, and shakes with arthritic confusion. This fails to catch the Hero's attention or jealousy, but when "monsters" crash the wedding—red-faced, roaring ogres sailing around the stage and flying through the air on ropes—the Voice of the Waking Flame appears once again, stopping the ogres in their tracks with an enormous primal scream, like an ox's powerful bellow. The monsters begin to writhe and disintegrate in an admittedly impressive display of sparklers and stage effects. ... ("I don't sound like that, do I?" you whisper furiously. "What the hell is that?") (<<nobr>><<if $festivalpartner is "trouble">>"That's why <<nobr>><<if $plural is true>><<print $she>>'re<<else>><<print $she>>'s<</if>><</nobr>> called the Voice of Waking Flame, I think," Trouble whispers back. "<<if $possessed is false and $godspeaker lt 7>>The Words—<<else>><<c she>> can, like, burn demons up with the power of $her voice—<</if>>No, I know, it's awful."<</if>><</nobr>>) <<nobr>><<if $runfromdemon is true>>More monsters shortly arrive, however, and the Hero is forced to cut and run, to the boos and jeers of the audience. <<elseif $runtowardsdemon is true>> More monsters shortly arrive, only to be cut down again by the grimly-triumphant Hero. <</if>> <<if $bothdead is true>> Tragically, both Praline and baby Pain are killed in the fight, eliciting a chorus of shocked gasps from the audience that borders on a wail of genuine grief and terror. <<elseif $bothsafe is true>> Baby Pain and Praline are both saved, with Praline falling more in love with the Hero than ever. <<elseif $prihinesafe is true>>Tragically, baby Pain is lost in the battle, though his fate is left ambiguous, with the ogres bearing him away off-stage, and the Hero swearing to retrieve him one day and seek revenge. A chorus of shocked gasps and dismayed groans rise up from the audience when it's revealed that the Hero chose to save woebegotten Praline, after all. <<elseif $cainesafe is true>> Praline dramatically dies during the battle, managing to gasp out her last profession of undying love to the Hero before she collapses; the audience does not react to this, and neither does the Hero. Everyone claps and cheers when baby Pain is safely extracted from the rubble, though. <</if>><</nobr>> When the dust clears from the stage, a group of mysterious figures charge onto the scene, inducing the Hero to join their vigilante group, the Hounds. Reluctantly, the Hero agrees... then launches into a solo operatic monologue about fate and hopefully finding what they've been looking for all along. Family? Purpose? Justice? It's extremely difficult to tell. The curtain falls to thunderous applause. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Turn to <<c festivalpartner>>. "Let's get out of here. This is utter drivel."</div>' 'autogenerated_688013'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Continue to Act One: Part Two.</div>' 'act1part2play'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $festivalpartner is "trouble">>Trouble nods in adamant agreement. "Yeah, this is kak. What a waste of thirty minutes."<</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'ending85'>>

<<page_break "Next" "ending8">>

The stage's set pieces change out, signalling a clear timeskip and transition in the seasons: it's actually quite a clever bit of theater. <<nobr>><<if $festivalpartner is "trouble">>Trouble lets out a squawk of indignation<</if>><</nobr>> as the Hero's new companions introduce themselves: there's Weapon, a hulking, silent brute dressed all in brooding black, mostly mute and glowering sullenly in many of his scenes, his hair gelled into such hard spikes that they look like they could be broken off and used as weapons; Havoc, some sort of "magical mutant" with strange striations painted up and down his body and horrifying yellow eyes, who breaks out in terrifying rages for seemingly no reason at all—he's concealing the fact that his left hand is actually a gun; Callous, primarily known for her lewd comments and general thirst for vengeance, sporting prosthetic ears that look like knives attached to the sides of her head; and Berry, a wilting, quavering, moaning scribe who may or may not be a helpful ghost haunting the Hounds' headquarters: it doesn't seem to be entirely clear, but they keep hinting that other people can't see her. <<nobr>> <<if $festivalpartner is "trouble">> <br><br>("What the fuck?" Trouble whispers in outrage. <i>"What the fuck?</i>" <br><br> "Trouble, <i>calm down</i>." <br><br> "I don't have <i>guns for hands</i>. That's not why I wear gloves, damn it!" <br><br> "I think it's just the one gun, for some reason.")<</if>><</nobr>> The Hero, to your discomfiture, is largely characterized as an aggressively <<nobr>><<if $faith gte 50>>pious<<else>>iconoclastic<</if>> <<if $loyal gte 50>> rule-follower, <<else>> lone wolf, <</if>> <<if $courage gte $intelligence and $courage gte $cunning and $courage gte $charisma>> gifted with an overblown sense of courage that borders on arrogant. <<elseif $intelligence gte $courage and $intelligence gte $charisma and $intelligence gte $cunning>> gifted with a kind of genius that borders on pretentious. <<elseif $charisma gte $intelligence and $charisma gte $courage and $charisma gte $cunning>>gifted with a persuasive charm that borders on manipulative. <<else>>gifted with a wicked cunning that borders on outright deceitful. <</if>> <<if $compassionate gte 75>> <<c she>><<if $plural is true>>'re<<else>>'s<</if>> also so saintly and sanctimonious it's almost nauseating. <<elseif $compassionate lt 50>><<c she>><<if $plural is true>>'re<<else>>'s<</if>> also so pragmatic and ruthless it's almost cruel. <</if>><</nobr>> You find yourself cringing whenever you see $them on stage, though it's clear many people in the audience adore $them. Everyone loves a larger-than-life hero, even when that hero is exaggerated. Havoc and Callous have a huge argument, for reasons that are difficult to discern. The Hero haughtily notes that <<nobr>><<if $plural is true>>$she are<<else>>$she is<</if>><</nobr>> above such petty concerns, but follows <<nobr>><<if $troubleequalist is true>> Havoc anyway, to keep an eye on him. Through a series of comedic mishaps and coincidences, they unknowingly stumble upon a cult of deadly sorcerers and promptly beat the theatrical snot out of them, prompting the audience to cheer at their display of bravado and derring-do. The sorcerers just happened to be keeping innocent children locked up—to eat, one notes with a sinister sneer—and the children are freed, crowding around Havoc and the Hero with adoring, happy chirrups and a quick song. Havoc gives a surprisingly-moving soliloquy about how saving the children has also taught him how to save himself. He heals from his traumas, and is reformed. <<elseif $tallysequalist is true>> Callous anyway, to keep an eye on her. They enter a tavern to find a pretty barmaid being menaced by a group of red-uniformed guards called "The Foxes." The Hero bravely intervenes, beating the theatrical snot out of the Foxes and prompting the crowd to cheer at the display of bravado and derring-do. <<if $coinscar is true>> However, the Hero is horrifically scarred with some kind of cursed mark on $her hand as a result of the fight. <</if>> Callous, in a surprisingly-moving soliloquy, realizes that she has felt powerless all her life, but the Hero's actions have shown her that she need not feel helpless any longer. She heals from her traumas, and is reformed. <</if>><</nobr>> <<nobr>><<if $festivalpartner is "trouble">><br><br>("This is such <i>bullshit</i>. That's not what <i>happened</i>.")<</if>><</nobr>> <<page_break "Act One: Part Three" "act1part3play">>

A terrible drug called Eclipse begins to rampage through the streets of Haven, the inadvertent byproduct of some scheme between "the Association of Criminals" and the "Association of Businessmen," though one of the characters makes a pithy aside that the two organizations might as well be one and the same, to howls of uproarious laughter from the audience. The leader of the Association of Criminals is a jaunty, twee figure played by a long-lashed, perky young woman with an improbable flop of brown hair and the same flirtatious lewdness as Callous, only with a grating air of trying-too-hard wittiness to go along with it. His name is Tag. The leader of the Association of Businessmen is an anemic-looking, gaunt man with a powdery-white face and a twitchy manner, whose one catchphrase seems to be, "Egad! <i>The math is not right!</i>" before he furiously begins scribbling new calculations into his notebook. (Bizarrely, this character, named Sir Hornblower, seems to be a favorite of the audience, who can't seem to get enough of his unusual mannerisms.) Both associations panic, trying to cover up their involvement in the creation of the drug by pinning the blame on the other. The Voice of the Waking Flame arrives and declares that $she will help clean up their mess, for the good of the city. This involves <<nobr>><<if $rielinvestigation is true>> infiltrating a nobleman's masquerade ball, for reasons that aren't made fully clear to the audience. <<if $prihinesafe is true or $bothsafe is true>> (The nobleman also turns out to be Praline's wheezing old husband, bringing the star-crossed maiden back into the Hero's orbit.) <</if>><<elseif $chaseinvestigation is true>>sneaking into a secret factory involved in manufacturing the drug. <</if>> The Hero and $her allies successfully rid the city of Eclipse, following many exaggerated swordfights, pyrotechnic displays, and ululating battle-cries, puncutated—of course—by the Voice of the Waking Flame's signature "screams of power." <<if $festivalpartner is "trouble">><br><br> ("...Why do you think they cast a woman as Chase? Er, I mean, Tag." <br><br> "I don't know. Maybe no one else quite had his... verve." <br><br> "And what's up with 'Sir Hornblower'?" <br><br> "Maybe they have a feeling Riel was going to be more litigious than the rest.")<</if>> <<if $prihineromance is true>> <br><br> Soon after, Praline visits the recovering Hero in bed, tearfully confessing that she has always loved $them. In a sweet and tender song, the Voice of the Waking Flame admits in a broken voice that Praline's feelings are returned, but that they can't be together due to the Hero's all-consuming mission in life (which is still being left unsaid). Praline is forced to accept this, but begs for one night of passion spent in the Hero's arms. The Hero yields, and they finally embrace to a round of applause from the audience. <<if $festivalpartner is "trouble">> <br><br> Trouble sends you an unreadable, covert glance at this; you feel your face heating up. "It wasn't like that!" <br><br> "Damn, <<c halfname>>, you didn't...? Right after we killed her husband, and all?" <br><br> "It's not like I..." <br><br> Another audience member shushes you fiercely. <</if>><</if>><</nobr>> <<page_break "Act Two: Part One" "act2part1play">>

A group of Mages accidentally unleash some sort of eldritch experiment on their city, lamenting and tearing at their hair with shrieks and groans about how their foolish academic recklessness has cursed the city to fall into a deep and unending slumber. The Hero and a party of $her companions arrive, meeting up with "Blue," an improbably tall, tan man with a jarring shock of light blue hair, bulging muscles, and his nose always buried in a <<nobr>>book—<<if $festivalpartner is "trouble">>("Why does he look <i>forty</i>?" Trouble asks in an incredulous whisper. "Look at those <i>hands</i>! They're like <i>hams</i>!")—and <<else>>book; and <</if>><</nobr>> "Wind-Upon-Sands," some sort of mixed-martial artist who punctuates most of her sentences with a twirl of her wooden staff and ridiculous sound-effects that she makes with her mouth. (She's dressed in such a skimpy, gauzy outfit, clearly intended to imitate the clothing style of southern Jalis, that you see more than a few parents covering their children's eyes.) Rival members of the same magic school, Wind-Upon-Sands and Blue have multiple duets together, indicating a push-pull, love-hate dynamic that appears to revolve around their conflicting views on magic, with him taking a scholarly stance and her advocating for a warrior's way. Subtext, however, makes it clear that their relationship is rife with a confusing romantic tension. The Voice of the Waking Flame easily vanquishes their unleashed experiment with another primal screech, then departs the city with Blue and Wind-Upon-Sands in tow. <<nobr>> <<if $festivalpartner is "trouble">> <br><br> (Trouble sends you a baffled, suddenly doubtful look. "Red and Ayla aren't..." <br><br> "What? No! Trouble, you know none of this is <i>real</i>, right? They're just making things up for the drama, to please the audience. They must have thought some more romance was needed to spice things up." <br><br> "Right. Right.")<</if>><</nobr>> <<page_break "Act Two: Part Two" "act2part2play">>

<<nobr>><<if $festivalpartner is "trouble">>Trouble shifts impatiently in his seat as the curtain falls, indicating a brief intermission as the set pieces once again change. "Should we get the hell out of here?" he whispers. "Feels like this is dragging on <i>forever</i>. And it's a load of kak, besides." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"We got this far. We have to stay."</div>' 'autogenerated_688014'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm starting to think it's hilarious, in its own way. I want to finish it."</div>' 'autogenerated_688015'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Yes, let's get out of here."</div>' 'autogenerated_688016'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <<else>> <<include "act2part2proceed">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Trouble sighs and sinks further into his seat. "Guess you're right. This is pretty torturous, though." <<include 'act2part2proceed'>>

Trouble sighs and sinks further into his seat. "If you say so." <<include 'act2part2proceed'>>

Trouble blows out a sigh of relief as he rises to shuffle out of your row. "Thank the One-God. What a waste of an hour." <<include 'ending85'>>

Next, the Hero is called upon to treat sick, plague-ridden Hunters, who horrify the audience by tottering around the stage, their faces marked with pox and ague in the form of vivid rouge. The leader of this band of unfortunates is a worthless flop of a man called "Salk," played by a white-haired elderly actor somewhere in his fifties or sixties. He seems to suffer from some form of narcolepsy, constantly falling asleep mid-conversation—or perhaps that's simply a natural effect of his old age. Children in the audience <i>hate</i> Salk, beginning to boo every time he delivers a meandering monologue, only to comedically nod off; he blinks owlishly and looks around at the jeers, as if startled awake by phantom voices. The children are far more receptive, however, to Salk's twin, Klas, played by the same actor retreating behind the stage to quickly change costumes and comb his hair. As Klas, he delivers an arresting performance as a vigorous, romantic, long-suffering hero who supports his brother out of a sense of familial duty. There's some sort of subplot where Salk's beautiful fiancee, Lady Snowvelvet, and Klas are in love with each other, but with her being betrothed to the incompetent Salk, their secret romance seems doomed. The Voice of the Waking Flame is informed that the only cure to the Hunters' sickness lies deep within a nearby cave, populated by unnerving, crawling pale figures wearing eyeless masks, hissing like snakes. The Hero bravely cuts through the hordes, sending them scattering with $her divine screeches, and retrieves the cure, bringing the Hunters back from the brink of death. <<nobr>><<if $festivalpartner is "trouble">> <br><br> (Trouble snickers. "Okay, that Salk fellow is actually pretty funny. I don't know why they keep booing him, he's the best one of the lot.")<</if>><</nobr>> <<page_break "Act Two: Part Three" "act2part3play">>

With tales of $her warrior prowess spreading, the Hero is invited to fight in a gladiator's arena, a decadent, gaudy set piece filled with lascivious, oiled warriors bathing in steamy saunas and suggestively offering each other massages. There, <<nobr>><<if $plural is true>>$she meet<<else>>$she meets<</if>><</nobr>> Briar Rose, a thick-necked, pink-haired stout warrior built like a pitbull, who seems implied to be insane; she talks to herself, frequently claims to not remember anything about the past, and whispers to her sword, caressing it and talking to it in gleeful, secretive tones like it's her pet. <<nobr>><<if $festivalpartner is "briony">>Briony, who's been eagerly waiting for this moment, lets loose a distressed wail that immediately has everyone around you shushing and glaring. "<i>Whyyyy do I look like thaaaaat</i>?!" <br><br><<elseif $festivalpartner is "trouble">>(At this, Trouble clamps his lips shut, as if trying to hold back a laugh. "That's rotten," he says in a low, choked voice. "Poor Briony." Briar Rose crouches over her sword, whispering to it in a furtive voice and stroking it covetously, referring to it as "her precious.")<br><br><</if>><</nobr>> Despite the arena's glittering facade, the Hero recognizes that the whole thing is a farce and that the gladiators are actually being magically-enslaved and mind-controlled by greedy slavers. <<c she>><<nobr>><<if $plural is true>> break <<else>> breaks <</if>><</nobr>> the curse over the arena by slaying its wielder, a rotund, bearded actor who's oddly magnetic to watch: you hear one young woman sitting in front of you whisper to her friend that he's actually a famous thespian who took this bit role just to get his name on the playbill. Despite this exciting appearance, however, you see some people shifting in their seats and checking their timepieces. By this point, all of the climactic battles are getting a bit repetitive. <<page_break "Act Three: Part One" "act3part1play">>

The Hero receives an invitation to attend a magnificent feast celebrating $her numerous accomplishments, held by a beautiful noblewoman named Lady Violet: a voluptuous soprano with a feather boa and plunging décolletage that would make the most hardened soldier blush. Lady Violet is an obvious parody of the typical sheltered noble, breaking out into fits of snobbish laughter and musing frequently about clothes or her love of chocolate truffles. Her grand feast is interrupted by ogres spewing flame, dumping buckets of water, blasting gusts of air, and hurling what appear to be foam boulders: this is never explained, but seems to be accepted by the audience without question. In a strange parallel to the beginning of the play, the Hero valiantly saves Lady Violet from being kidnapped by these beasts, causing her to (of course) fall in love with $them in just the way her cousin Praline (surprise!) did, as well as inspiring her to abandon her life of luxury to join the Hounds. The feast continues, though the toasts and smiles of the actors praising the Hero seem a bit forced: you wonder if their energy is flagging, or if they, too, are growing bored with the direction the play is taking. <<nobr>><<if $festivalpartner is "trouble">>Trouble suppresses a yawn. <</if>><</nobr>> <<page_break "Act Three: Part Two" "act3part2play">>

The Hero traipses along a street in Haven, delivering a mournful speech about how $she<<if $plural is true>>'ve' <<else>>'s<</if>> partaken in all manner of heroic adventure and epic deeds since joining the Hounds, but $she still <<if $plural is true>>haven't<<else>>hasn't<</if>> found what "$she<<if $plural is true>>'re<<else>>'s<</if>> truly seeking." Suddenly, $she <<if $plural is true>>hear<<else>>hears<</if>> word about the temple of a great seer, the "Oracle of Murmurs." The Hero rushes to visit the Oracle, a blind, wizened crone wearing a ghostly veil and sitting shrouded atop a high dais. "<i>Will you tell me what I seek?</i>" the Hero sings, lifting $her hands up to the Oracle in supplication. "<i>What is it that you seek?</i>" the Oracle returns in a croaky rasp. "<i>I seek... I seek...</i>" "<i>What is it that you seek?</i>" The Hero bursts into a heady, melodramatic crescendo. "I SEEK... MY DESTINY!" The curtain falls. ... <<page_break "Act Three: Part Three" "act3part3play">>

<<romancecalc>>The curtain rises on the fictional king of Haven, a boisterous, ruddy man with a tumbling red beard spread across his massive chest. He bears absolutely no resemblance to anyone in power at all, particularly because Haven has never even had a king, and slumps against his throne, lamenting to an advisor about how he has no suitable heir to take his throne, even as his kingdom falls into disrepair around him, ravaged as it is by "beasts of shadows and blood." The Hero bursts into the throne room then, accompanied by all of the companions and allies $she <<if $plural is true>>have <<else>>has<</if>> gathered over the course of the play. <<c she>> <<if $plural is true>>declare <<else>>declares<</if>> <<print $them>>self the king's secret child, conceived with the king's court mage before being raised away from the palace for $her own protection. The Hero belts out a song about how $she once tried to visit $her father once $she learned the truth, only to be turned away at the palace gates. All of $her actions leading up until now have been an effort to build up enough of a reputation to be admitted into $her father's court, to earn his constituents' respect, and to take $her rightful place as his heir. "<i>I was no one. I had to make myself someone</i>," the choir sings dolefully. <i>"A hero was needed to be a herald of the new dawn!"</i> King and Hero joyfully reunite; the king immediately names the Hero as <<nobr>><<if $gender is "female">>princess<<elseif $gender is "male">>prince<<else>>heir<</if>><</nobr>> of all Haven, with the rest of the motley Hounds being dubbed as $her royal guard and retinue, a band of holy knights who will continue to help $them in $her crusade against the monsters plaguing Haven. With the crown now resting rightfully on $her head, the Hero swears to king and audience that $she will never stop $her fight against the forces of darkness. Victory seems all but inevitable, and the cast raise their voices in a final song about the hopeful new era about to unfold. The audience erupts into such thunderous applause that it makes your cheeks buzz, threatening to rattle your brain in your skull. <<nobr>><<if $aroace is false and $aro is false>> <br><br> <<if $highestromance is "blade">>The play ends with a sudden confession to the Hero from Weapon, of all people, despite the fact that he's barely said a word throughout the entire play; he fumbles through a clumsy declaration of his undying passion for the Hero, and the two of them seal their relationship with a kiss. There's a brief, saccharine wedding scene before the couple triumphantly marches off-stage, hand-in-hand, as the crowd cheers and screams for another ovation. <<elseif $highestromance is "trouble">>The play ends with a sudden confession to the Hero from Havoc, of all people; he fumbles through a clumsy, grunting declaration of his undying passion for the Hero, who he says can love him "warts and all," and the two of them seal their relationship with a kiss. <<if $festivalpartner is "trouble">> Trouble and you exchange glances, simultaneously appalled and awkward; he looks away from you as guiltily as if he were the one who wrote the play, ducking his head to hide the fact that his face is now beet-red. You both look like you want to shrivel in your seats. <</if>> There's a brief, saccharine wedding scene before the couple triumphantly marches off-stage, hand-in-hand, as the crowd cheers and screams for another ovation. <<elseif $highestromance is "tallys">>The play ends with a sudden confession to the Hero from Callous, of all people; she waxes poetic about her undying passion for the Hero, about how the Hero has inspired her to abandon her quest for vengeance and taught her how to love again, and the two of them seal their relationship with a kiss. There's a brief, saccharine wedding scene before the couple triumphantly marches off-stage, hand-in-hand, as the crowd cheers and screams for another ovation. <<elseif $highestromance is "shery">> The play ends with a sudden confession to the Hero from Berry, of all people; she fumbles through a clumsy, quavering declaration of her undying passion for the Hero, and the two of them seal their relationship with a kiss. There's a brief, saccharine wedding scene before the couple triumphantly marches off-stage, hand-in-hand, as the crowd cheers and screams for another ovation. <<elseif $highestromance is "riel">>The play ends with a sudden confession to the Hero from Sir Hornblower, of all people; he fumbles through a clumsy declaration of his undying passion for the Hero, singing something about how "<i>the math all adds up to this</i>," and the two of them seal their relationship with a kiss. There's a brief, saccharine wedding scene before the couple triumphantly marches off-stage, hand-in-hand, as the crowd cheers and screams for another ovation. <<elseif $highestromance is "chase">> The play ends with a sudden confession to the Hero from Tag, of all people; he waxes poetic about his undying passion for the Hero, declaring his willingness to reform his criminal character for them, and the two of them seal their relationship with a kiss. There's a brief, saccharine wedding scene before the couple triumphantly marches off-stage, hand-in-hand, as the crowd cheers and screams for another ovation. <<elseif $highestromance is "red">> The play ends with a sudden confession to the Hero from Blue, of all people; he waxes poetic about his undying passion for the Hero, mentioning sheepishly that Wind-Upon-Dunes means nothing to him, after all, and the two of them seal their relationship with a kiss. There's a brief, saccharine wedding scene before the couple triumphantly marches off-stage, hand-in-hand, as the crowd cheers and screams for another ovation. <<elseif $highestromance is "ayla">> The play ends with a sudden confession to the Hero from Wind-Upon-Dunes, of all people; she waxes poetic about her undying passion for the Hero, finally managing to avoid making action sound-effects with her mouth for emphasis, and the two of them seal their relationship with a kiss. There's a brief, saccharine wedding scene before the couple triumphantly marches off-stage, hand-in-hand, as the crowd cheers and screams for another ovation. <<elseif $highestromance is "briony">> The play ends with a sudden confession to the Hero from Briar Rose, of all people; she waxes poetic about her undying passion for the Hero, adding that her love has miraculously cured her of her insanity, and the two of them seal their relationship with a kiss. There's a brief, saccharine wedding scene before the couple triumphantly marches off-stage, hand-in-hand, as the crowd cheers and screams for another ovation. <<elseif $highestromance is "lavinet">> The play ends with a sudden confession to the Hero from Lady Violet, of all people; she waxes poetic about her undying passion for the Hero, trilling an extremely high-pitched aria about how she loves them even more than chocolate truffles, and the two of them seal their relationship with a kiss. There's a brief, saccharine wedding scene before the couple triumphantly marches off-stage, hand-in-hand, as the crowd cheers and screams for another ovation. <<elseif $prihineromance is true>> The play ends with the return of Praline, who asks the Hero if they can marry now that the Hero has achieved $her true goal. The Hero concedes, and the two of them seal their relationship with a passionate kiss. There's a brief, saccharine wedding scene before the couple triumphantly marches off-stage, hand-in-hand, as the crowd cheers and screams for another ovation. <</if>><</if>><</nobr>> <<page_break "..." "chandrysplayover">>

"My word, what a play! It dipped a little in the middle, I admit, but that final act—what a perfect ending!" "Mama, I want to be like Wind-Upon-Sands when I grow up!" "It <i>clearly</i> drew from the legend of Saint Vivica and King Rhet, so it wasn't very original, but I actually thought this iteration was superior..." "A perfect fantasy... a mystical voyage into a fairytale realm, injecting even the most outlandish concepts with universal human pathos... here, hang on, you spelled 'pathos' wrong, I've got to get this review into the editor by midnight..." You and <<c festivalpartner>> drift out of the amphitheatre along with the rest of the crowd, feeling as drained and haggard as if you'd just engaged in an all-out battle for your lives. <<nobr>><<if $festivalpartner is "trouble">>Trouble looks almost too bewildered to speak. <</if>><</nobr>> <<nobr>> <<if $festivalpartner is "trouble">>Then, after a moment, his eyes slide over at you and he asks, cautiously: "What did you think?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Well, any publicity is good publicity, isn't it? It was clearly popular. It'll do a lot to pull people over to our side, even if they don't consciously make the connection or think anything in the play is actually real."</div>' 'autogenerated_688017'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"It was horrible. Humiliating. Grossly inaccurate <i>and</i> poorly done."</div>' 'autogenerated_688018'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I don't know yet. I'm speechless."</div>' 'autogenerated_688019'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I actually ended up enjoying myself. It was fun."</div>' 'autogenerated_688020'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Can they do that? Make a play about us and get everything wrong?"</div>' 'autogenerated_688021'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <<else>> /* otherfestival partners here */ <</if>><</nobr>>

Trouble snorts. <<if $rank is "Commander">>"There's our Commander-Legate for you, always thinking about how this'll impact our reputation," he mutters. <</if>> "I suppose you make a good point. Silly and stupid as the whole thing was, people <i>did</i> seem to like it. Even if they thought it was all made-up, it still frames us in a nice enough light." Then he shakes his head. "But I wouldn't get my hopes up about this thing spreading, or anything. Much as every troupe claims to be the best and most famous in Haven, the reality is that everyone in the audience today was a commoner, tickets were cheap, and the whole thing came off as an amateur production. They're always trying to advertise these things as the next great masterpiece, but it'll be forgotten and discarded for the next big thing by next week." Then he looks cagily sideways at you. "Still, though. Maybe best if we don't tell the others about this, huh?" <<include 'leavechandryplay'>>

Trouble nods vigorously. "Yeah, it was a load of trollop and tripe. I can't believe they wrote up that entire script and thought, 'Yeah, looks good, this'll do.' And then made costumes and built the stage and everything. And what's worse, people <i>liked</i> it." He shakes his head. "At least I wouldn't worry about this thing spreading, or anything. Much as every troupe claims to be the best and most famous in Haven, the reality is that everyone in the audience today was a commoner, tickets were cheap, and the whole thing came off as silly and amateur. They're always trying to advertise these things as the next great masterpiece, but it'll be forgotten and discarded for the next big thing by next week." Then he looks cagily sideways at you. "Still, though. Maybe best if we don't tell the others about this, huh?" <<include 'leavechandryplay'>>

Trouble snorts. "That makes two of us. I suppose it's a fun idea, having a play made about you, if you don't take yourself too seriously." He looks aggrieved. "But that Havoc character... God's teeth, I'm not a wild savage like that, am I, roaring and swinging my fists around...?" Then he trails off and shoots you a thoughtful glance. "...Maybe it's best if we don't tell the others about this." <<include 'leavechandryplay'>>

Trouble snorts. "Glad one of us liked it, anyway. I suppose it's a fun idea, having a play made about you, if you don't take yourself too seriously." He looks aggrieved. "But that Havoc character... God's teeth, I'm not a wild savage like that, am I?" Then he looks thoughtful. "I suppose it wasn't as bad as they made Briony out to be..." Then he trails off and shoots you a thoughtful glance. "...Maybe it's best if we don't tell the others about this." <<include 'leavechandryplay'>>

Trouble shrugs. "You'd have to ask Riel about something like that. I'm guessing there's nothing stopping them: bards and poets and gossipmongers and such perform little pieces and songs about real people in the taverns all the time. It's their bread and butter. I don't think you can tell them <i>not</i> to do that. But I wouldn't worry about this spreading, or anything. Much as every troupe claims to be the best and most famous in Haven, the reality is that everyone in the audience today was a commoner, tickets were cheap, and the whole thing came off as silly and amateur. They're always trying to advertise these things as the next great masterpiece, but it'll be forgotten and discarded for the next big thing by next week." Then he looks cagily sideways at you. "Still, though. Maybe best if we don't tell the others about this, huh?" <<include 'leavechandryplay'>>

<<nobr>><<if $shopvisit gte 3 and $chandry gte 3>> You continue to talk it over, but you're suddenly interrupted in your departure by the appearance of Chandry from one of the venue's side entrances; he catches sight of you and scurries up, wringing his gloved hands. <br><br> "Shepherd <<c surname>>! What did you think of the play?" His eyes stare anxiously into yours, all earnestness; he's still wearing his monochromatic makeup, making him look oddly sober, as if he's just left a funeral. "Did you enjoy it?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"It was... extremely creative, Chandry."</div>' 'autogenerated_688022'>><<set $chandry += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"It was horrid. Banal, boring, ridiculous, and inaccurate. None of those things happened like that!"</div>' 'autogenerated_688023'>><<set $chandry -= 3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm glad I saw it. It was certainly entertaining."</div>' 'autogenerated_688024'>><<set $chandry += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You clearly have a real talent for playwriting. Did you see how packed the theater was?"</div>' 'autogenerated_688025'>><<set $chandry += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"It was frankly bizarre. I have no idea what to think."</div>' 'autogenerated_688026'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Why the hell did you never tell me that you were writing a play based on <i>me</i>? Us?"</div>' 'autogenerated_688027'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Why did the language switch from archaic in the narration to modern throughout the rest of the play?"</div>' 'autogenerated_688028'>><</link>> <<if $intelligence gte 50>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"What was the point of the Oracle in the last act, if the Hero already knew about being the king's heir?"</div>' 'autogenerated_688029'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Why was the Hero called the Voice of the Waking Flame in the first place? That was never explained."</div>' 'autogenerated_688030'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Remain silent.</div>' 'autogenerated_688031'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <<else>> <<include "leaveplay">> <</if>><</nobr>>

At least it's so different from what actually happened that you can mentally distance yourself from the thing. Chandry beams, now looking enormously pleased. "Oh, I'm so glad you thought so, my friend!" he cries, practically bubbling over with relieved enthusiasm. "The final product was... well, I wasn't sure. It wasn't all my script. There were... many creative differences throughout the production of the play. Theater people, you know. All very dramatic, all thinking they know best. The third act wasn't to my preference, not at all, not the ending I planned in the least, but... alas, alack, a lack, no?" <<include 'someonecallschandryplay'>>

The clown looks shocked by your response, then injured. "Ah, but it isn't all my fault," he returns in a pouty tone. "They butchered my script! There were so many creative differences... Theater people—all so dramatic, all thinking they know best—I was overruled! They completely overrode my planned third act and made their own! And the characterizations—I argued strenuously, I assure you!" His hands wring faster with genuine distress. <<include 'someonecallschandryplay'>>

<<nobr>><<if $festivalpartner is "trouble">>Trouble casts you a dubious glance, but you keep a straight face: you can't deny that you were captivated the entire time, and you certainly can't regret going to see a play based—however fictiously—on your own exploits. <</if>><</nobr>> Chandry beams, now looking enormously pleased. "Oh, I'm so glad, my friend!" he cries, practically bubbling over with relieved enthusiasm. "The final product was... well, I wasn't sure. It wasn't all my script. There were... many creative differences throughout the production of the play. Theater people, you know. All very dramatic, all thinking they know best. The third act wasn't to my preference, not at all, not the ending I planned in the least, but... alas, alack, a lack, no?" <<include 'someonecallschandryplay'>>

Regardless of your personal feelings, you can't deny the play's popularity. Chandry brightens, then adds modestly, "Yes, well, it wasn't <i>all</i> my script. There were... many creative differences throughout the production of the play. Theater people, you know. All very dramatic, all thinking they know best. The third act wasn't to my preference, nor were many of the character beats, but... alas, alack, a lack, no?" <<include 'someonecallschandryplay'>>

The whole thing feels like a fever dream, honestly. Chandry nods seriously. "That is understandable, my Shepherd friend. It often takes a few days for such complex theatrical mastery to truly sink in... The themes alone... Baby Pain as metaphor, even..." <<include 'someonecallschandryplay'>>

Chandry looks pained. "Ah, but I meant to," he says pathetically. "Only that would have changed how you acted around me—one needs, ah, real authenticity, you see, the observer's eye—" You glower at him. "Chandry..." <<include 'someonecallschandryplay'>>

"Ah," Chandry says miserably. "Creative differences. Theater people, you know. All very dramatic, all thinking they know best. The third act wasn't to my preference, and I wanted the whole thing spoken in blank verse, or at least rhyming pentameter, but you can't always get what you want, can you? In the end, I could only salvage the narrator's bits, or I wouldn't have done it at all." <<include 'someonecallschandryplay'>>

"Ah," Chandry says unhappily. "That whole third act was rewritten at the last minute. It wasn't to <i>my</i> tastes, nor was it in my original script. Theater people, you know. All very dramatic, all thinking they know best. They overrode me utterly. Threw out my ending, and put that stupid twist in! <i>My</i> script was part of an epic cycle, full of political intrigue—" <<include 'someonecallschandryplay'>>

"Ah," Chandry says, curling his lip in a contemptuous expression you haven't seen on him before. "That was a holdover from <i>my</i> version of the play, the earliest iteration. I had an entirely different third act planned out, you see, and some of the second act, too. Theater people, you know—all very dramatic, all thinking they know best—they overrode me utterly. Threw out my ending, and put that stupid twist in! I told them it wouldn't make any sense, but did they listen? Nay!" His voice suddenly becomes very embittered. <<include 'someonecallschandryplay'>>

Chandry frowns at your silence, but before he can press you further, someone grabs him by the elbow and ushers him away, talking about a famous director who's simply <i>dying</i> to meet him... <<include 'leaveplay'>>

But someone calls him over, then, asking him to come meet a famous director who's simply <i>dying</i> to meet him, and before you can talk any further, the clown is being ushered away. <<include "leaveplay">>

Before you leave the theater grounds, you have the chance to buy one of the small souvenirs being sold at kiosks lining the path to the exit. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Turn away. You're not giving any more money to this monstrosity!</div>' 'finishplay'>><</link>> <<if $gold gte 1>><<link '<div class="money-item">Buy a tiny Voice of the Waking Flame doll. <b>[1 DEUCALION]</b></div>' 'autogenerated_688032'>><<set $playsouvenir to "mc">><<setgold -1>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="money-item">Buy a tiny Weapon doll. <b>[1 DEUCALION]</b></div>' 'autogenerated_688033'>><<setblade +5>><<set $playsouvenir to "blade">><<setgold -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="money-item">Buy a tiny Havoc doll. <b>[1 DEUCALION]</b></div>' 'autogenerated_688034'>><<settrouble +5>><<set $playsouvenir to "trouble">><<setgold -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="money-item">Buy a tiny Callous doll. <b>[1 DEUCALION]</b></div>' 'autogenerated_688035'>><<settallys +5>><<set $playsouvenir to "tallys">><<setgold -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="money-item">Buy a tiny Berry doll. <b>[1 DEUCALION]</b></div>' 'autogenerated_688036'>><<setshery +5>><<set $playsouvenir to "shery">><<setgold -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="money-item">Buy a tiny Sir Hornblower doll. <b>[1 DEUCALION]</b></div>' 'autogenerated_688037'>><<setriel +5>><<set $playsouvenir to "riel">><<setgold -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="money-item">Buy a tiny Tag doll. <b>[1 DEUCALION]</b></div>' 'autogenerated_688038'>><<setchase +5>><<set $playsouvenir to "chase">><<setgold -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="money-item">Buy a tiny Blue doll. <b>[1 DEUCALION]</b></div>' 'autogenerated_688039'>><<setred +5>><<set $playsouvenir to "red">><<setgold -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="money-item">Buy a tiny Wind-Upon-Sands doll. <b>[1 DEUCALION]</b></div>' 'autogenerated_688040'>><<setayla +5>><<set $playsouvenir to "ayla">><<setgold -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="money-item">Buy a tiny Salk doll. <b>[1 DEUCALION]</b></div>' 'autogenerated_688041'>><<sethalek +5>><<set $playsouvenir to "halek">><<setgold -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="money-item">Buy a tiny Briar Rose doll. <b>[1 DEUCALION]</b></div>' 'autogenerated_688042'>><<setbriony +5>><<set $playsouvenir to "briony">><<setgold -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="money-item">Buy a tiny Lady Violet doll. <b>[1 DEUCALION]</b></div>' 'autogenerated_688043'>><<setlavinet +5>><<set $playsouvenir to "lavinet">><<setgold -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="money-item">Buy a tiny Oracle of Murmurs doll. <b>[1 DEUCALION]</b></div>' 'autogenerated_688044'>><<setmimir +5>><<set $playsouvenir to "mimir">><<setgold -1>><</link>> <<if $cainesafe is true or $bothsafe is true>><<link '<div class="money-item">Buy a tiny baby Pain doll. <b>[1 DEUCALION]</b></div>' 'autogenerated_688045'>><<set $playsouvenir to "caine">><<setgold -1>><</link>><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

<<notify_gold "-1 Gold">> Begrudgingly, you have to admit that the souvenir <i>is</i> extremely cute. The merchandise department for the Haven Players Troupe must be excellent. <<include 'finishplay'>>

<<notify_gold "-1 Gold">> Begrudgingly, you have to admit that it <i>is</i> extremely cute, a soft, grumpy-looking doll with improbably-spiky black hair. The likeness is surprisingly striking: the merchandise department for the Haven Players Troupe must be excellent. <<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 20>><<set $bladeromanceflag += 1>><</if>><<if $festivalpartner is "blade">><br><br>Blade glances over at the frowning doll with a snort of contempt. "I don't see the likeness," he deadpans. <<if $bladeromanceflag gte 20 or $blade gte 80>>But you think he seems amused that you're buying it, anyway. <<if $bladeromanceflag gte 20>>He looks away with a hint of a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.<</if>><</if>><</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'finishplay'>>

<<notify_gold "-1 Gold">> Begrudgingly, you have to admit that it <i>is</i> extremely cute, a soft, fierce-looking doll with golden hair and a little gun for a left hand. The likeness is surprisingly striking: the merchandise department for the Haven Players Troupe must be excellent. <<nobr>><<if $troubleromanceflag gte 20>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 1>><</if>><<if $festivalpartner is "trouble">><br><br>Trouble glances over with an embarrassed groan. "Agh, <<c halfname>>, do you really have to go and buy one? The whole thing's humiliating enough as it is..." He glares sternly down at the doll. "And I don't have guns for hands!" <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'finishplay'>>

<<notify_gold "-1 Gold">> Begrudgingly, you have to admit that it <i>is</i> extremely cute, a soft, serious-looking doll with short brown hair and little pointed ears. The likeness is surprisingly striking: the merchandise department for the Haven Players Troupe must be excellent. <<nobr>><<if $tallysromanceflag gte 20>><<set $tallysromanceflag += 1>><</if>><<if $festivalpartner is "tallys">><br><br>Tallys casts the doll a singularly unimpressed look. "At least the craftsmanship is fine enough," she concedes in a lofty tone. "I suppose if you'd really like to have a memento of this experience..." She can't even finish the sentence before turning away in disdain. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'finishplay'>>

<<notify_gold "-1 Gold">> Begrudgingly, you have to admit that it <i>is</i> extremely cute, a soft, terrified-looking doll with long blonde hair and little spectacles. The likeness is surprisingly striking: the merchandise department for the Haven Players Troupe must be excellent. <<nobr>><<if $sheryromanceflag gte 20>><<set $sheryromanceflag += 1>><</if>><<if $festivalpartner is "shery">><br><br>Shery blushes when she sees you holding it. "Y-you're going to buy one?" she squeaks. She seems embarrassed by the prospect, but also enormously pleased. "Oh, then I'm definitely going to buy one of you!"<</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'finishplay'>>

<<notify_gold "-1 Gold">> Begrudgingly, you have to admit that it <i>is</i> extremely cute, a soft, stern-looking doll with neat black hair and a little sheaf of papers. The likeness is surprisingly striking: the merchandise department for the Haven Players Troupe must be excellent. <<nobr>><<if $rielromanceflag gte 20>><<set $rielromanceflag += 1>><</if>><<if $festivalpartner is "riel">><br><br>Riel actually curls his lip in contempt as he regards the little doll. "I suppose you might as well buy one now," he says in his loftiest tone. "Since they won't be around for much longer: I'll be looking into the legal implications of this as soon as we get home."<</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'finishplay'>>

<<notify_gold "-1 Gold">> Begrudgingly, you have to admit that it <i>is</i> extremely cute, a soft, playful-looking doll with curly brown hair and a fashionable little jacket. The likeness is surprisingly striking: the merchandise department for the Haven Players Troupe must be excellent. <<nobr>><<if $chaseromanceflag gte 20>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>><</if>><<if $festivalpartner is "chase">><br><br>Chase glances over with a sly grin as you contemplate the doll. "Cute little fella, isn't he? I don't blame you for wanting to have one of me with you all the time. I'm going to buy one of you, too."<</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'finishplay'>>

<<notify_gold "-1 Gold">> Begrudgingly, you have to admit that it <i>is</i> extremely cute, a soft, pensive-looking doll with vertical blue hair and a little book. The likeness is surprisingly striking, despite the hair color being wrong. The merchandise department for the Haven Players Troupe must be excellent. <<nobr>><<if $redromanceflag gte 20>><<set $redromanceflag += 1>><</if>><<if $festivalpartner is "red">><br><br>Red looks over with a slight sigh as he sees you contemplating the little doll. "Well, at least the hair color's wrong. Gives me plausible deniability if Pan and Neon decide to tease me. And I'm going to buy one of you, too, just to keep you humble enough so <i>you</i> don't tease me."<</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'finishplay'>>

<<notify_gold "-1 Gold">> Begrudgingly, you have to admit that it <i>is</i> extremely cute, a soft, ferocious-looking doll with a tawny braid and a little wooden staff. The likeness is surprisingly striking: the merchandise department for the Haven Players Troupe must be excellent. <<nobr>><<if $aylaromanceflag gte 20>><<set $aylaromanceflag += 1>><</if>><<if $festivalpartner is "ayla">><br><br>Ayla looks over with a pleased grin when she sees you contemplating the little doll. "This is awesome!" she crows, clutching one of her own. "I'm going to buy a bunch! How often do you meet someone who has their own <i>doll</i>?"<</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'finishplay'>>

<<notify_gold "-1 Gold">> Begrudgingly, you have to admit that it <i>is</i> extremely cute, a soft, sleepy-looking doll with white hair. The likeness is surprisingly striking: the merchandise department for the Haven Players Troupe must be excellent. <<nobr>><<if $festivalpartner is "halek">><br><br>Halek sends the doll an unimpressed look. "You know that's not <i>me</i>, right? You're buying a doll based off of an old man. A literal old man. But if that's the kind of thing you like..."<</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'finishplay'>>

<<notify_gold "-1 Gold">> Begrudgingly, you have to admit that it <i>is</i> extremely cute, a soft, fierce-looking doll with pink hair and a little sword. The likeness is surprisingly striking: the merchandise department for the Haven Players Troupe must be excellent. <<nobr>><<if $brionyromanceflag gte 20>><<set $brionyromanceflag += 1>><</if>><<if $festivalpartner is "briony">><br><br>Briony sends the doll a sulky, resentful look. "Oh, <<c firstname>>, please, it's so awful! I can't <i>believe</i> they made me look like that!"<</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'finishplay'>>

<<notify_gold "-1 Gold">> Begrudgingly, you have to admit that it <i>is</i> extremely cute, a soft, sultry-looking doll with pale purple hair and a little fan. The likeness is surprisingly striking: the merchandise department for the Haven Players Troupe must be excellent. <<nobr>><<if $lavinetromanceflag gte 20>><<set $lavinetromanceflag += 1>><</if>><<if $festivalpartner is "lavinet">><br><br>Lavinet sends the doll a look of withering contempt and flounces off, too scandalized by the whole thing to even make a witty comment.<</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'finishplay'>>

<<notify_gold "-1 Gold">> Begrudgingly, you have to admit that it <i>is</i> extremely cute, a soft, silvery-eyed doll with black hair and a little veil. The merchandise department for the Haven Players Troupe must be excellent. <<include 'finishplay'>>

<<notify_gold "-1 Gold">> It's just a tiny wrapped bundle with a little baby's face sticking out, about the size of your thumb. So cute! <<include 'finishplay'>>

<<nobr>><<if $festivalpartner is "blade">> <<include "bladefestivalfinish">> <<elseif $festivalpartner is "trouble">> <<include "troublefestivalfinish">> <<elseif $festivalpartner is "tallys">> <<include "tallysfestivalfinish">> <<elseif $festivalpartner is "shery">> <<include "sheryfestivalfinish">> <<elseif $festivalpartner is "riel">> <<include "rielfestivalfinish">> <<elseif $festivalpartner is "chase">> <<include "chasefestivalfinish">> <<elseif $festivalpartner is "red">> <<include "redfestivalfinish">> <<elseif $festivalpartner is "ayla">> <<include "aylafestivalfinish">> <<elseif $festivalpartner is "halek">> <<include "halekfestivalfinish">> <<elseif $festivalpartner is "briony">> <<include "brionyfestivalfinish">> <<else>> <<include "lavinetfestivalfinish">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><center><div class="playbill">The Hounds of Haven: Heralds of the Dawn</div> <div class="playbill2">By the Haven Players Troupe</div> <<if $shopvisit gte 3>><div class="playbill3">Special Contributions by Playwright-in-Residence: Chandry</div><</if>></center><</nobr>>

You open the door to find Trouble standing there, hands in his back pockets as he lounges at his ease, <<nobr>><<if $troubleromanceflag gte 25>>wearing a smart black leather jacket that you haven't seen him in before, his golden hair neatly combed in a look that's strangely charming on him. <<else>>wearing his usual battered red leather jacket.<</if>> <<if $troubleromanceflag gte 25 and ($festivaldress is "stunning" or $festivaldress is "nice")>> He looks up as you open the door, then freezes; he stares at you for a long moment, his look blank and slightly stunned, as if he doesn't recognize the person standing in your doorway. His mouth opens and then closes again. <br><br> "Oh. You look..." He trails off, his natural drawl perhaps lending more meaning to the statement than he intends. Then he blinks and seems to try to shake himself out of his stupor, clearing his throat. "...really nice. Er. Amazing, really. I feel like a bit of a clod next to you." <br><br> You grin at him. <<include "complimenttroublefestival">> <<elseif $festivaldress is "stunning" or $festivaldress is "nice">> He grins up at you, casual and slightly cheeky as ever. "Oh, you dressed <i>nice</i>. Out to make me look like a clod, eh?" <br><br> You grin at him. <<include "complimenttroublefestival">> <<else>> He grins at you, casual and cheeky as ever. "Ready to go?" <br><br> <<include "gotothefestivalwithtrouble">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Don't be stupid. You look fantastic."</div>' 'autogenerated_688046'>><<settrouble +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You look good no matter what you're wearing."</div>' 'autogenerated_688047'>><<settrouble +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Duck your head shyly. "You like it?"</div>' 'autogenerated_688048'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You are a clod, but it's fun to go out with you, anyway."</div>' 'autogenerated_688049'>><<settrouble +2>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Well, you're not exactly known as a smart dresser, anyway. I don't think anyone will notice."</div>' 'autogenerated_688050'>><<setcharisma -3>><<settrouble -3>><<set $troubleromanceflag -= 3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $troubleromanceflag gte 25>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 1>>He grins at you so widely that it feels like his smile has a concentrated, sunny beam to it—though you think his ruddy skin might also be concealing a bit of a blush. He clears his throat and offers you his arm. "Shall we go?"<<else>> He grins at you so widely that it feels like his smile has a concentrated, sunny beam to it. "Ah, you're too nice, <<c firstname>>," he says affably. "A bloke's got to be careful around you, or the praise'll go straight to his head." He jerks his chin towards the stairs. "Shall we go?" <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'gotothefestivalwithtrouble'>>

<<nobr>><<if $troubleromanceflag gte 25>>"Yeah," Trouble says, with total sincerity. "'Course, I like the look of you all the time, but this is..." He shakes his head, then offers you his arm, though the gesture is just a bit shyer than normal, and you think his ruddy skin might be concealing a blush. "Shall we go?" <<else>>"Yeah, 'course," Trouble answers instantly, though his tone is a bit bemused now. He jerks his chin towards the stairs. "Shall we go?" <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'gotothefestivalwithtrouble'>>

Trouble bursts out laughing. "I'm glad," he says, with his usual guileless cheer. He jerks his chin towards the stairs, grinning at you. "Shall we go?" <<include 'gotothefestivalwithtrouble'>>

Trouble snorts. "Thanks a lot. Shall we go?" <<include 'gotothefestivalwithtrouble'>>

<<nobr>><<set $troubleprize to "">><<set $mcprize to "">><<if settings.music is true>><<audio "festival" time 0.5 volume 0.1 play>><</if>><</nobr>>You and Trouble walk to the Ascendancy Festival together, though you don't have to go too far from the front gate of the Shepherd headquarters to reach it: it feels like the entirety of the city has been taken up by the festivities, hundreds of winding avenues and alleyways and plazas filled to the brim with a dizzying array of carnival events and activities, every streetlamp, handrail, and storefront festooned with colorful drapes and banners. Vendors, hawkers, and street entertainers are out in full force tonight, and the night air is clear and balmy with the first warm breath of spring. A new Autarch taking the golden throne is a once-in-a-lifetime event: accordingly, Haven is bursting with the opportunity to celebrate and usher in the new era. The air carries the scents of grilling meats and burnt sugar; you jostle in an amiable manner with the crowds as snatches of music, singing, laughter, and excited chatter pelt you from all directions. You and Trouble take your time wandering the dizzying sprawl, hardly knowing where to look next. You laugh at an earnest puppet show where clear parodies of two infamous nobles throttle each other with exaggerated oaths; you gasp in awe with a crowd of onlookers as acrobats flip onto each other's stilts, belching gouts of fire. You step past whirls of dancing bodies and children running happily underfoot. <<nobr>><<if $troubleromanceflag gte 25>>Trouble's hand is always there to guide and protect you from the crush of the crowd, resting with casual possessiveness on the small of your back, gripping your shoulder as he follows you through a packed square, holding your hand in a warm, broad grasp so that you don't get separated. He's grinning hugely, laughing and joking and calling commentary over his shoulder, but his gold-blue eyes are also as alert as ever, keeping careful track of you through the chaos with that usual sniper's focus. <<else>> Trouble's familiar strong-shouldered shape makes it easy not to lose track of him in the crowd; he's grinning, but his gold-blue eyes are still as alert as ever, keeping effortless track of you through the chaos with that usual sniper's focus. <</if>><</nobr>> At one point, you notice Trouble slowing to a halt in front of a booth for festival games. One of them is a shooting gallery, featuring some sort of spring-loaded pellet gun and a variety of colorful moving targets. The boothkeeper notices his interest and calls out gaily, "Fancy a try, sirrah? Hit all the targets, collect a prize!" His long wooden switch points towards a shelf of colorful stuffed toys. Trouble gives a rueful laugh and waves the booth attendant away. "Ah, but it seems like it'd be cheating," he tells you, though there's a merry glint in his eyes and a little mischievous grin pulling at the corner of his mouth as he says it. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Oh, go on and show off. I know you're just dying to do it."</div>' 'autogenerated_688051'>><<settrouble +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Come on, you have to! You can win me one of those prizes."</div>' 'autogenerated_688052'>><<settrouble +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Maybe if you do it, but I want to have a try myself."</div>' 'autogenerated_688053'>><<settrouble +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Yeah, it definitely wouldn't be fair." Pull away; you're not interested in watching him cheat at a shooting game.</div>' 'autogenerated_688054'>><<setloyal -5>><<settrouble -5>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Trouble gives in with another laugh and a shake of his head, tossing a danar to the boothkeeper. "Not true, but—if you insist—" <<include 'troubleshootinggallery'>>

Trouble's eyes gleam as he fishes in his pocket for a danar to flip to the booth attendant. "Yeah? Well—if you insist—" <<include 'troubleshootinggallery'>>

Trouble's smile widens. "Yeah?" he says with a mock-challenging lift of his brows, fishing into his pocket for a danar to flip to the booth attendant. <<nobr>><<if $mainweapon is "gun" or $gun gte 80>>"Feels like it's just as much cheating if you do it, but go on." <<else>>"Let's see what you got, recruit." <br><br> You snort at the old nickname as you accept the light toy rifle from the boothkeeper. "You definitely can't call me that anymore. At this point I've been with the Shepherds longer than pretty much anyone else we know." <br><br> "Ah, but you'll always be my favorite recruit." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'mcshootinggallery'>>

<<nobr>> <<if $troubleromanceflag gte 10>><<set $troubleromanceflag -= 5>><</if>><</nobr>> Trouble shrugs and hurries to catch up with you without comment. <<include 'foodwithtrouble'>>

You and Trouble line up in front of the shooting gallery while he tests the heft and weight of the toy rifle, muttering to himself about its lightness and dubious accuracy. Soon enough, though, he's squared his shoulders, swung the rifle's crude 'scope' up to his eye, and is popping off pellets with his usual military efficiency. Every one of the booth's twenty targets is punched back in quick and seamless succession. A few passerby clap from the sidelines, looking impressed as they walk past. The booth attendant gives a wide smile that shows all his teeth and says in a boisterous tone, "Well done, sirrah! I thought you had a soldier's mien! Would you like to accept your prize"—his wooden pointer swings over to a sad-looking, deflated stuffed duck that's seen better days—"or try at a higher difficulty for one of our <i>grand premier prizes</i>?" You and Trouble exchange knowing glances bordering on eye-rolls. "I'll do the highest difficulty," Trouble tells him easily, rolling his shoulders. "Very good, sirrah." At the attendant's press of a hidden switch, the shooting gallery's targets abruptly accelerate in their movements, twirling elaborately or jerking erratically at comedically-high speeds. Trouble gives an ironic snort for your benefit, though he looks unperturbed as he raises his rifle again. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $troubleromanceflag gte 20 and $courage gte 75>><<link '<div class="choice-item">A wicked thought occurs to you then. You'll flirt outrageously with him to distract him.</div>' 'autogenerated_688055'>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 10>><<setcourage +1>><<setcharisma +1>><<set $troubleprize to "duck">><</link>><</if>> <<if $troubleromanceflag gte 10>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Wait until he's about to fire, then blow teasingly in his ear to distract him.</div>' 'autogenerated_688056'>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 1>><<set $troubleprize to "duck">><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Wait until he's about to fire, then poke him in the side to surprise him.</div>' 'autogenerated_688057'>><<set $troubleprize to "duck">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Cheer him on from the sidelines. "You can do it!"</div>' 'autogenerated_688058'>><<set $troubleprize to "lion">><<settrouble +2>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Heckle him from the side of your mouth. "Boo! Hiss!"</div>' 'autogenerated_688059'>><<set $troubleprize to "lion">><<setloyal -1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Maybe it's the heady, almost drunken giddiness in the air tonight, but suddenly you feel wicked and reckless and daring. You glance over at the boothkeeper, who's turned his attention away from you and is engaged in an animated sales pitch with other potential patrons whose business would doubtless be more profitable for him to elicit. With no one else watching, you step up behind Trouble as he readies to fire and wrap your arm casually around his waist, resting your chin on his shoulder and cuddling up against his back in an intimate pose that would make anyone think you were two amorous lovers. "Ah—" You feel Trouble go still. "<<c firstname>>?" "Yes?" The palm of your hand idly slides along his flat abdomen. "What, uh—" His brain seems to have shorted out. "What're you doing?" "Giving you a little bit of a challenge. This was far too easy for you; it seemed a little unfair." You nod towards the gallery, its targets waving like mocking flags. "Aren't you going to shoot?" Trouble opens his mouth, then closes it. Puts his eye to the scope again. Fires—one target whips back with deadly accuracy. When he prepares for the second shot, though, you brush the back of your knuckles casually against his belt buckle; he jumps, and his shot goes wide. "<i><<c firstname>></i>!" "Yes?" you ask, all innocence. The backs of his ears are red; his skin, even through his clothes, blazes against yours like a brand. Somehow, his city drawl seems to have thickened in the last few seconds. "Are you crazy? I'm in the middle of shooting!" "That's the point, Trouble." Your voice is like cold smoke in his ear as you continue teasingly, "Come on. If you're half as good of a sharpshooter as you say you are, you shouldn't have a problem multitasking. Whatever happened to <i>Deadeye Alder</i>?" You know he can't back down from a challenge like that: his sniper's pride wouldn't allow it. You watch as Trouble clenches his jaw, a muscle in his neck ticking, as he raises the scope to his eye and unleashes a flood of bullets at the targets that all meet their mark with grim and stubborn accuracy. He meets your eye pointedly, almost challengingly, as if to say, <i>See? I'm the best</i>, and you chuckle and step back a ltitle to allow him more space, as if in concession. But when he turns back to address the next row of targets, you lean forward again and whisper in his ear, conversationally: "Something about the way you shoot is so sexy." Trouble's next shot misses completely. "Shit!" "Having trouble concentrating?" you ask, amused. "N-no." He reloads and fires again, accurately this time, not acknowledging how badly his voice cracked just then. "I like how your eyes get when you're lining up a shot. Kind of sharp. Intense. Makes a $woman wonder..." "God's teeth, <<c halfname>>, the way you talk is—you're fit to make a man's nose bleed." He takes a long breath, seems to steady himself, and finishes up his game more calmly. Still, you can't help but note that his shots are still shakier than his usual effortless perfection. He scowls at you as the boothkeeper hurries over, tallies up his performance, and declares that he didn't have a perfect round. "I hate you." "I'm not so sure you do," you sing-song, unable to keep the smugness out of your voice as the boothkeeper hands him the sad-looking duck, after all. Hotly blushing now, Trouble shoves the limp stuffed animal at you. "Here. You just cost yourself your own grand prize, y'know. I hope it was worth it. Along with giving me a heart attack." Despite his embarrassment, however, his eyes are bright and keyed up, and are maybe even suppressing his own amusement in favor of a show of mock-severity. You snicker, <<nobr>><<if $troubleromanceflag gte 25>>not missing that he still takes the time to catch your hand and tow you along as he stalks away. <<else>> following him as he stalks away; from his already sheepish half-grin, you know you're both going to be laughing about this in a few minutes. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'foodwithtrouble5'>>

Trouble jerks in surprise as you lean in to blow a ticklish stream of air into his ear; his shot goes wide and hits the back of the booth with an embarrasingly loud clatter. He turns to look at you with an expression so owl-like and scandalized that you can't help but burst into a peal of laughter. "Wh—what're you—" "Oh, come on, Trouble," you say, elbowing him playfully. "This is way too easy for you. But if you're half as good of a sharpshooter as you say you are, you shouldn't have a problem firing while <i>distracted</i>. Should you?" Trouble flushes hotly and looks away. "You're mad," he mumbles, wringing his rifle in an distracted, embarrassed way. "And it's not like I'm regularly on the battlefield, trying to concentrate when someone does something like <i>that</i>." You can't hide your mischievous grin. "This is good practice for you, then. Helps you hone your focus." "You're mad," he repeats again, almost under his breath. Then, after another quelling glare at you, he takes a steadying breath, lifts his scope to his eye, and takes aim to fire once more... You lean in and breathe into his ear, whispering so closely that your lips almost touch his skin. "<i>What, you can't concentrate when I talk to you like this?</i>" Trouble's next shot misses completely. "Shit!" Then he turns to glare at you again, saying in an aggrieved tone—the color in his face still high— "That isn't fair, <<c firstname>>." "What isn't, Trouble?" you ask slyly, and he looks away, rubbing the back of his neck like he's suddenly overheated. But before he can reply, the booth attendant comes scurrying over to tally up his score, declaring that Trouble did not in fact score a perfect round this time. The sharpshooter glowers at you as he's handed the deflated stuffed duck after all. "I hate you." "I'm not so sure you do," you sing-song, unable to bridle the smugness in your voice. Scowling to cover up his blush now, Trouble shoves the limp stuffed animal at you. "Here. You just cost yourself your own grand prize, y'know. I hope it was worth it." He stalks off, mock-sulking, and you trail after him, knowing from the suppressed smile at the corner of his mouth that he's already struggling not to laugh at your prank. <<include 'foodwithtrouble5'>>

Trouble jerks to the side with a surprised grunt as your finger pokes into his unprotected side; his shot goes wide and hits the back of the booth with an embarrassingly loud clatter. The sniper turns to you with such an injured look that you can't help but burst out laughing. "What'd you do that for?" "It was too easy for you," you tell him through your laughter. "I had to make it more challenging. Or are you saying you can only shoot under perfect conditions?" Trouble's jaw sets stubbornly. "I said no such thing. I can shoot under any condition. In the rain, or in the bloody Wallmire swamp, as you saw, or—" You raise your eyebrows at him. "Prove it, then." Tsking under his breath, the sniper raises the scope of his rifle again, ducks his head, takes a steady breath, and— You tickle his side lightly, and he yelps, missing completely. You burst into a fresh peal of laughter. "Trouble! Are you actually <i>ticklish</i>? What was that <i>sound</i>?" "I'm not!" he protests hotly, though he's starting to grin despite himself, too. "No one in the world's going to be able to shoot straight while you—" "I bet you Blade could. Or Chase." "They could not! Blade couldn't shoot the broad side of a barn, he's not even allowed to touch guns or whatever, and Chase'd just slither away from you before you could even touch him—" In the midst of your playful bickering, the booth attendant returns, tallies up Trouble's performance, and declares that he did not score a perfect round. Trouble scowls at you as he's handed the limp stuffed duck, after all. "I hate you." At your snigger, he shoves the sad-looking toy your way. "And this is yours, anyway. You just cheated yourself out of the grand prize, y'know. I hope you're happy." "I am," you sing-song as you begin to walk away together. "Because I just found out something very interesting about you—" "I'm not ticklish! And if you tell anyone else that, I'll fill your boots with that heinous Conte itch powder." <<include 'foodwithtrouble5'>>

Trouble turns his head to give you a quick smile, then proceeds to hit each target with brisk, effortless accuracy, shredding the hanging paper silhouettes to bits, knocking the round bullseyes back as if they'd been punched. You clap like you're in the audience of a grand opera as he turns and gives a mock-bow. "Thank you, thank you," he says, adding a flourish to his bow as the attendant hurries over to deliver his prize: an enormous stuffed lion almost as tall as Trouble himself. Trouble accepts the giant toy with a grin, then shoves it awkwardly towards you. "Here. I won this for you." You laugh and clasp your hands to your chest, batting your eyelashes theatrically. "For me? Why, I couldn't!" "Oh, yes you could," Trouble grunts, already sinking under the slumping golden mass of the stuffed lion. "Shooter wins the prize. Recipient gets to lug it around for the rest of the night." <<include 'edgeawaylion'>>

Trouble throws you an unimpressed look. "That's not very nice," he says in a mock-reproving tone. "I'm trying to win this for <i>you</i>, you know." "Miss!" you jeer, undeterred. Trouble rolls his eyes and proceeds to hit each target with brutal, effortless accuracy, shredding the hanging paper silhouettes to bits, knocking the round foam bullseyes back as if they'd been punched. "You're gonna have to try harder than that, <<c $firstname>>." he says disdainfully as the booth attendant scurries over to deliver his prize: an enormous stuffed lion almost as tall as Trouble himself. Trouble accepts the giant toy with a grunt of surprise, then shoves it awkwardly towards you. "Here. I won this for you." You eye the unwieldy thing with amusement. "You'll still give it to me even though I heckled you?" He nods seriously, already almost disappearing under the slumping golden mass of the stuffed lion. "Shooter wins the prize. Recipient gets to lug it around the rest of the night." <<include 'edgeawaylion'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Edge away from the lion. "Ehh... that's okay. You can carry it for me."</div>' 'autogenerated_688060'>><</link>> <<if $intelligence gte 50>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Turn to the booth attendant. "We'll just pick this up at the end of the night, if that's all right."</div>' 'autogenerated_688061'>><<setintelligence +1>><<settrouble +1>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Back away with your hands held up. "I don't want that thing."</div>' 'autogenerated_688062'>><<settrouble -5>><<set $troubleprize to "">><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Trouble rolls his eyes as he hefts the lion further up his back. "Oh, I can? Thank you very much." Grumbling good-naturedly, he begins to stagger off, the stuffed lion's plush head resting on top of his like he's giving it a piggyback ride. <<include 'foodwithtrouble5'>>

Trouble gives you an approving grin as he hands the prize back to the obliging boothkeeper, who seems pleased to keep the lion for the rest of the evening as a tempting display for other prospective players. "Good thinking, <<c halfname>>. Knew you were the smart one of the pair." <<include 'foodwithtrouble5'>>

Trouble rolls his eyes. "Why the hell did I play for it, then?" "I thought you just wanted to play. I didn't know it would entail me dragging a huge toy around all night." "I guess that's fair. <<nobr>><<if $cainejoin is true>> I guess I'll give it to Caine, then."<<else>> I guess I'll give it to Shery, then."<</if>><</nobr>> With an exaggerated grunt of effort, he hefts the lion further up his back and staggers off, the lion's plush head resting on top of his like he's giving it a piggyback ride. <<include 'foodwithtrouble5'>>

<<page_break "..." "foodwithtrouble">>

You take a breath and step up to the shooting gallery, sizing up both the heft of the toy rifle in your hands as well as the distance between you and the targets. The booth attendant presses a hidden switch, and the targets begin to slide along some kind of rope pulley or track, moving at a brisk, smooth pace... <<nobr>><<if $gun gte 50>><<settrouble +1>><<setgun +1>><<set $mcprize to "duck">>Easy: your practice sessions at the compound are five times harder than this. You take a breath, letting that cool, almost relaxed gunslinger's calm fall over you, and fire. <br><br> <i>Pop! Pop! Pop! </i> <br><br> You fell each target with neat and perfect precision. <br><br> Trouble gives a whoop of encouragement and claps your shoulder with his gloved hand, shaking you lightly like a prizefighter's coach showing off his star at the end of a match. "<<nobr>><<if $woman is "woman">>Attagirl!<<elseif $woman is "man">>Attaboy!<<else>>Nice job!<</if>><</nobr>> That's <<c halfname>> for you," he crows, with more pride than if he'd beat the game himself. <br><br> The booth attendant, who's been watching all this time, gives you a smile that shows all of his teeth. "Excellent aim, <<if $woman is "woman">>ma'am,<<elseif $woman is "man">>sirrah,<<else>>my friend,"<</if>> he says silkily. "I thought you had a soldier's mien! Would you like to accept your prize"—his wooden pointer swings over to a sad-looking, deflated stuffed duck that's seen better days—"or try at a higher difficulty for one of our <i>grand premier prizes</i>?" <br><br> You and Trouble exchange knowing glances bordering on eye-rolls. "I'll do the highest difficulty," you tell the booth attendant confidently. <br><br> "Very good" At the attendant's press of a hidden switch, the shooting gallery's targets abruptly accelerate in their movements, twirling elaborately or jerking erratically at comedically-high speeds. <br><br> Oh, boy. <br><br> <<if $gun gte 80>> <<setgun +1>><<settrouble +3>><<if $troubleromanceflag gte 20>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 1>><</if>><<set $mcprize to "lion">> <<include "mcimpressestroubleshootinggallery">> <<else>> <<include "troublehelpsmcshootinggallery">> <</if>> <<else>> <<include "troublehelpsmcshootinggallery">> <</if>><</nobr>>

A little hesitantly, you raise the scope to your eye and squeeze off your first few shots. Your first pellet connects with its target, but the other two narrowly miss. Swearing quietly to yourself in annoyance, you take another deep breath to steady yourself before you fire again. You hit your next two targets, but the two after those spin and pirouette out of your way with almost mocking flourishes and salutes. Behind you, Trouble clears his throat politely. "Er, not to step on your toes, but if you want some pointers..." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Glare at him. "I don't need your help."</div>' 'autogenerated_688063'>><<setloyal -3>><<set $mcprize to "duck">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Laugh it off. "It's just a silly game, anyway."</div>' 'autogenerated_688064'>><<settrouble +1>><<set $mcprize to "duck">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Hand him the rifle. "Here, why don't you give it a try?"</div>' 'autogenerated_688065'>><<set $mcprize to "duck">><<settrouble +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Accept his help. "Show me what I'm doing wrong."</div>' 'troublemcshootinggallery'>><<settrouble +1>><<setintelligence +1>><<set $mcprize to "duck">><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Trouble chuckles and backs off with his hands in the air. "I get it. I know how competitive you get." Growling to yourself in frustration, you empty the rest of your shots at the shooting gallery, rueing the day you ever volunteered to partake in a clearly-unwinnable carnival game. You strike about half of your targets, sometimes out of sheer luck; the booth attendant, when he floats over to tally up your score, seems smug as he hands you a truly grubby-looking, limp stuffed duck as your prize. Trouble knows better than to comment as you snatch the toy out of the boothkeeper's hands and stalk off, though you do think you hear him snickering to himself as you move on. <<include 'foodwithtrouble5'>>

Trouble grins at you. "Yeah, no point to it if you're not having fun, right? Don't worry about getting the highest score—just have fun with it." With that assurance, you return to your game with a more relaxed sense of enjoyment. You end up striking about half of your targets, sometimes out of sheer luck; you probably should have expected this, given that carnival games are often considered unwinnable—after all, they have to make money somehow, right? But it's still somehow cathartic to cheerfully pelt those stupid colorful targets with all the ammo you've got. And the booth attendant, when he floats over to tally up your score, still hands you a limp stuffed duck as your prize. You and Trouble both laugh together at the ridiculous-looking toy, and he flings his arm over your shoulders as you hold it aloft, cheering together as triumphantly as if it were a gold trophy. The two of you keep snickering as you move on to the next section of the festival. <<include 'foodwithtrouble5'>>

Trouble sends you a quizzical look, then a bit of a dimpled grin as he accepts the rifle from you. "You sure?" "Be my guest," you say graciously, folding your arms and standing back to watch as he steps up to the shooting gallery. Trouble ducks his head to the rifle's crude crosshairs, squints, and then fires off a round of perfect shots, knocking each target back with military precision. "Ugh," you say as he turns to you with a triumphant, boyish grin. "I hate you." "Yeah, I'd probably hate me, too." But you're both laughing, and the booth attendant, when he floats over to tally up your score, still hands you a grubby-looking, limp stuffed duck as your prize. You and Trouble both giggle helplessly over the ridiculous-looking toy, and he flings his arm over your shoulders as you hold it aloft, cheering together as triumphantly as if it were a gold trophy. The two of you keep snickering as you move on to the next section of the festival. <<include 'foodwithtrouble5'>>

<<nobr>><<if $troubleromanceflag += 20>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 1>>Swiftly, Trouble steps up behind you, his chin just above your shoulder and his deep voice murmuring in your ear as he wraps his arms around yours and shows you how to better hold the rifle. "It's lacking weight in the back, see, that's why you're missing when you think your sights are lined up; if you act as your own counter-balance and raise it just so..." His gloved fingertips are gentle as he tilts your chin, his expression focused and casual as he adjusts your shoulders with an instructor's nonchalance. <<include "mcreactstotroubleshootinggallery">> <<else>> Swiftly, Trouble steps up behind you to help adjust your posture, focused and casual as he corrects your shoulders with an instructor's nonchalance. "It's lacking weight in the back, see, that's why you're missing when you think your sights are lined up; if you act as your own counter-balance and raise it just so..." Then he steps back and claps you on the back. "Give that a go." <br><br> <i>Pop! Pop! Pop! </i> <br><br> You knock down every single target with military precision. <br><br> "Well done!" Trouble laughs as you turn with a celebratory cheer, exchanging enthusiastic high-fives. "Kill 'em, <<c firstname>>!" <br><br> Grinning ridiculously, you return to your game with a more relaxed sense of enjoyment. You end up striking almost all of your targets, though not all. But it's still somehow cathartic to cheerfully pelt those stupid colorful targets with all the ammo you've got. And the booth attendant, when he floats over to tally up your score, still hands you a limp, grubby-looking stuffed duck as your prize. You and Trouble both laugh at the ridiculous-looking toy, and he flings his arm over your shoulders as you hold it aloft, cheering together as triumphantly as if it were a gold trophy. The two of you keep snickering as you move on to the next section of the festival. <br><br> <<include "foodwithtrouble5">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You shift nervously, your heart suddenly speeding up. It's suddenly extremely difficult for you to concentrate...</div>' 'autogenerated_688066'>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Lean against him slyly. You can't deny you don't enjoy the feeling of his arms around you...</div>' 'autogenerated_688067'>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Try to stay calm, even though internally you're far too aware of how close he is.</div>' 'autogenerated_688068'>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Shift away. You don't need to be instructed <i>that</i> closely.</div>' 'autogenerated_688069'>><<set $troubleromanceflag -= 10>><<settrouble -3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

The pleasant rumble of his deep voice against your back. The slightest brush of his rough stubble against your cheek. The masculine warm scent of him, leather and clean amber soap; the ripple of his corded muscles around you. The slight tickle of his lips almost touching the curve of your ear. You can't help but shiver pleasantly, nearly overwhelmed, and unfortunately for you, Trouble is wrapped so closely around you that he instantly senses your tension. He pauses for the briefest instant, and for a moment, both of you stand frozen, as if unsure of what to do. Trouble's suddenly stopped breathing, you notice. Then, calmly, he releases you and steps back, giving you a brief, encouraging smile. "I think you've got the hang of it," he says, a bit too casually. He acts as if nothing just happened, but he suddenly seems to have trouble meeting your eye. He looks away, off towards the crowd, rubbing his neck as if overheated. You take a steadying breath, then turn back to the firing range, staring unseeingly through your rifle's crosshairs as you empty the rest of your ammo. Your remaining shots are abysmal and shaky, but neither Trouble nor you make any comment on it, looking everywhere but each other as you wait for the boothkeeper to drift over and tally up your score. You calm down a bit when he hands you your prize, though: a truly grubby-looking, limp stuffed duck that makes the two of you break into laughter at the sad sight of it. You and Trouble cheer together and hold it aloft like it's a prized trophy, and by the time you move on to the next section of the festival, things have returned to normal. You think. <<include 'foodwithtrouble5'>>

The pleasant rumble of his deep voice against your back. The slightest brush of his rough stubble against your cheek. The masculine warm scent of him, leather and clean amber soap; the ripple of his corded muscles around you. The slight tickle of his lips almost touching the curve of your ear. You can't help but shiver pleasantly, cuddling up comfortably against Trouble's <i>extremely</i> solid chest as you enjoy your newfound proximity to each other. And Trouble can't fail to miss your shift in posture, standing as closely as he is to you. You feel him freeze in realization, tensing briefly as his breath hitches at the way you press back lightly against his hips. You look at him out of the corner of your eye, and you find him staring back at you, intent and fiercely focused as a hawk. He inhales slowly; you can't tell if he's breathing in the scent of you or not, if his eyes are dipping down to your lips and his arms are tensing possessively around you for any reason other than what's in your own imagination... The boothkeeper drifts over again. "Finished yet?" Trouble jerks in surprise, then quickly steps back from you, muttering something about how you seem to have the hang of it now. He acts as if nothing just happened, but suddenly he seems to have trouble meeting your eye. He looks away, off towards the crowd, rubbing his neck as if overheated. You take a steadying breath, then turn back to the firing range, staring unseeingly through your crosshairs as you empty the rest of your ammo. Your remaining shots are abysmal, but neither Trouble nor you make any comment on it, looking everywhere but each other as you wait for the boothkeeper to tally up your score. You both calm down a bit when he hands you your prize, though: a truly grubby-looking, limp stuffed duck that makes the two of you break into laughter at the sad sight of it. You and Trouble cheer together and hold it aloft like it's a prized trophy, and by the time you move on to the next section of the festival, things have returned to normal. You think. <<include 'foodwithtrouble5'>>

Trouble's standing so closely that he instantly notices your stiffening and change in posture. Without comment, he wordlessly releases you and backs away, watching as you proceed to fire another round at the shooting gallery. Your remaining shots are little better than your starting ones, but at least the booth attendant, when he floats over to tally up your score, still hands you a limp, grubby-looking stuffed duck as your prize. You and Trouble both chuckle together at the ridiculous-looking toy, and by the time you walk off to the next section of the festival, the awkward moment between you has been forgotten. You think. <<include 'foodwithtrouble5'>>

You tilt your head and hold your breath, imagining tracking a fast-moving target across a field, a shadowy blur flitting through a window. Your vision crystallizes, sharpens into a knife-like clarity and focus. <i>Pop! Pop! Pop!</i> You hit every single target with brutal, perfect accuracy. A few passerby clap from the sidelines, looking impressed as they walk past. Trouble, at your side, whistles through his teeth. "Well done," he says, sounding impressed. "Though I suppose I shouldn't have expected any less—not from you." <<nobr>><<if $troubleromanceflag gte 25>>Smiling fondly, he tugs on a lock of your hair as you jokingly preen and boast and strut, celebrating your victory as smugly as a war hero. <</if>><</nobr>> With a half-grimace, half-smile, the booth attendant drifts over to hand you your grand prize: an enormous stuffed lion almost as tall as you are. Trouble laughs at how you almost disappear under the slumping golden mass of it, and you decide to leave it with the boothkeeper for now, rather than lugging it around with you for the rest of the night. The boothkeeper brightens considerably at this: he seems pleased to keep it as additional enticement for other prospective players as you move on to the next section of the festival. Trouble cheerfully extolls your shooting skills to random passersby all the while, calling out your achievements as you move through the crowd like an enthusiastic herald for a treasured knight. <<include "foodwithtrouble5">>

A little while later, you come across a long street crammed with food stalls and tiny makeshift eateries, with little chairs and tables shoved under canvas lean-tos for hurried dining. The wall of delicious, mingled scents is enough to make your mouth water, and everywhere people stand in line to purchase snacks or all-out meals. After picking through a myriad selection of bite-sized delicacies, sampling and buying at your leisure, Trouble abruptly comes to a halt in front of one particular stand, staring intently as if mesmerized. A fruity, caramelized smell hangs in the air, fragrant and warm and somehow comforting. "Ah, that smell is nostalgic," Trouble remarks happily to you, his eyes bright with interest. "They used to sell these at festivals <i>all the time</i> when I was a kid. I could never afford one, but I was always <i>dying</i> to try it. It's a Haven classic." He's referring to what looks like skewers of fat peaches covered in a shining, hardened gold sugar glaze. Apparently—according to the sign in front of the cart—the peaches are also soaked and infused with a spiced honey syrup beforehand, creating "a delightfully, delectably messy treat that's fun for all ages"! Trouble turns to you excitedly. "Want to try one? I can't believe I finally have the coin to buy one for myself. We used to go mad, staring at these things from the other side of the street." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Of course! I love sweet things!"</div>' 'autogenerated_688070'>><<settrouble +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm not really a fan of sweet things, but I'll try it because you want to."</div>' 'autogenerated_688071'>><<settrouble +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"No, thanks. I can't stand sweet things."</div>' 'autogenerated_688072'>><<settrouble -5>><<set $troubleromanceflag -= 3>><<setloyal -3>><<setcompassionate -1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Trouble's smile is brilliant against his tan skin. "Great. Give me just a moment—" He returns after a few short moments, triumphantly brandishing two <i>pecchi</i> skewers. <<include 'trythepecchi'>>

Trouble casts you a curious sidelong look. "You sure? What do you like instead?" <<include 'mcspicesoursavory'>>

"Really?" Trouble casts you a dubious side-glance, then shrugs to himself. "All right. Just give me a moment so I can get one for myself, eh?" You wait as Trouble manages to procure himself a <i>pecchi </i>skewer... watch as he takes a hard, crunchy bite, shattering the brittle glaze... ... Trouble's look is blank and unreadable as he chews slowly. "How is it?" you ask, curious despite yourself. Trouble finally looks up at you with a regretful grimace. "...Way too sweet." You can't help but both break out into a fit of laughter at that; of course it would be. He forces himself to finish the treat for old times' sake, then walks on with you, shaking his head wryly at the misplaced longings of youth. <<include 'dancecirclewithtrouble'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I like savory things."</div>' 'autogenerated_688073'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I like spicy things."</div>' 'autogenerated_688074'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I like salty things."</div>' 'autogenerated_688075'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I like sour things."</div>' 'autogenerated_688076'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Trouble pulls a baffled face. "You're like Blade. And you'd probably like Ket food, too." Then he shakes his head. "Well, sorry that these aren't savory, but—just give me a moment—" He returns after a few short moments, triumphantly brandishing two <i>pecchi</i> skewers. <<include 'trythepecchi'>>

Trouble pulls a baffled face. "What, like Ayla? I could never. Feels like you're going to burn your heart right out of your chest." Then he shakes his head. "Well, sorry that these aren't spicy, but—just give me a moment—" He returns after a few short moments, triumphantly brandishing two <i>pecchi </i>skewers. <<include 'trythepecchi'>>

Trouble pulls a baffled face. "What, like Chase? I swear that much salt can't be good for your blood." Then he shakes his head. "Well, sorry that these aren't salty, but—just give me a moment—" He returns after a few short moments, triumphantly brandishing two <i>pecchi</i> skewers. <<include 'trythepecchi'>>

Trouble pulls a baffled face. "What, like pickles and vinegar and whatnot? I feel like Tallys is like that, too." Then he shakes his head. "Well, sorry that these aren't sour, but—just give me a moment—" He returns after a few short moments, triumphantly brandishing two <i>pecchi</i> skewers. <<include 'trythepecchi'>>

Then, watching each other for the other's reaction, you both raise the fruit to your lips, count together, and then take your first bite in unison. ... The texture of the treat surprises you: a hard, crackly glaze on the outside, shattering in a satisfying way against your teeth, then a flood of pure ripe sweetness immediately after, like a burst of sunlight in your mouth. It is extremely sweet, almost eye-wateringly so, and yet strangely not very cloying... <<nobr>><<if $troubleromanceflag gte 25>>Trouble is watching you intently for your reaction; then he hesitates a moment, begins, "Ah, you've got—" He gestures fruitlessly towards his own face, then pulls his sleeve up over his wrist and swipes at the peach juice on your mouth and chin in an easy, perfunctory motion. Somehow, the casualness of his demeanor and touch makes your lips burn and tingle like they've been brushed with starlight. <<include "pecchisleeve">> <<else>> Trouble is watching you intently for your reaction. "What do you think?" <<include "pecchireaction">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I love it!"</div>' 'autogenerated_688077'>><<settrouble +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"It's a bit sweet... But I could see children enjoying it. I see why it's so popular."</div>' 'autogenerated_688078'>><<settrouble +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"It's way too sweet..."</div>' 'autogenerated_688079'>><<setcourage +1>><<settrouble +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"This is disgusting. Just awful."</div>' 'autogenerated_688080'>><<setcompassionate -3>><<setcharisma -1>><<setcourage +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Trouble looks relieved. "Really? I'm glad..." You glance at him quizzically as he continues to chew slowly, thoughtfully. "What do you think?" Trouble finally looks up at you with a regretful grimace. "...Way too sweet." You can't help but both break out into a fit of laughter at that; of course it would be. "Oh no," you begin, feeling your cheeks ache from how much you've been smiling. "Sorry..." "Nah, don't be." He loops his arm around your shoulders with unpracticed, unguarded affection. "Actually, it was still the best. 'Cause I had it with you." <<include 'dancecirclewithtrouble'>>

Trouble laughs ruefully. "Yeah, it's not as good as I was picturing in my head all this time..." You glance at him quizzically as he continues to chew slowly, thoughtfully. "What do <i>you</i> think of it?" Trouble finally looks up at you with a regretful grimace. "...Way too sweet." You can't help but both break out into a fit of laughter at that; of course it would be. "Oh no," you begin, feeling your cheeks ache from how much you've been smiling. "Sorry..." "Nah, don't be." He loops his arm around your shoulders with unpracticed, unguarded affection. "Actually, it was still the best. 'Cause I had it with you." <<include 'dancecirclewithtrouble'>>

Trouble breaks out into a boisterous laugh at that. "God, I know, right?" he cackles, wiping at his eye with a rueful air. "It's almost <i>inedible</i>." You can't help but dissolve into a fit of helplessly giggles at that; of course it would be. He forces himself to finish the treat for old times' sake, then walks on with you, shaking his head wryly at the misplaced longings of youth. <<include 'dancecirclewithtrouble'>>

Trouble breaks out into a boisterous laugh at that. "God, I know, right?" he cackles, wiping at his eye with a rueful air. "It's almost <i>inedible</i>. My teeth hurt from how sweet it is. What was I thinking?" You can't help but loose a reluctant laugh at that; Trouble's ability to poke fun at himself is one of his most surprising qualities, given the short temper and fierce pride he presents to strangers. He forces himself to finish the treat for old times' sake, then walks on with you, shaking his head wryly at the misplaced longings of youth. <<include 'dancecirclewithtrouble'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Swat his shoulder, surprised and embarrassed. "Don't make yourself my human napkin!"</div>' 'autogenerated_688081'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Look away, blushing. Why does his touch have to inspire these feelings in you...?</div>' 'autogenerated_688082'>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Thanks," you murmur, staring up at him with trusting, quiet affection.</div>' 'autogenerated_688083'>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 2>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Pull away in annoyance. "Don't do that. I'm not a child."</div>' 'autogenerated_688084'>><<set $troubleromanceflag -= 5>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"Sorry," Trouble says blandly, not looking sorry at all. "I don't really care, is all." "You may not, but I do!" He starts laughing at that, and even after a moment, even you can't help but start smiling despite your scolding. You take a few more bites before you ask, "What do you think of it?" From the neutral look on Trouble's face, you can tell he thinks it's a bit too sweet. But he only loops his arm around your shoulders with unpracticed, unguarded affection as you both walk on. "It's the best," he says simply. "'Cause I had it with you." <<include 'dancecirclewithtrouble'>>

Trouble doesn't seem to notice your reaction, but continues to chew on his <i>pecchi</i> with a thoughtful, absorbed expression. "How is it?" you ask him finally, when you're finally certain that an altered tone in your voice won't give you away. Trouble finally looks up at you with a regretful grimace. "...Way too sweet." You can't help but both break out into a fit of laughter at that; of course it would be. "Sorry," you say, beginning to feel your cheeks ache—from the sweetness of the <i>pecchi</i> or from how hard you've been smiling all night? "Nah, don't be." He loops his arm around your shoulders with unpracticed, unguarded affection as you both walk on. "Actually, it was still the best. 'Cause I had it with you." <<include 'dancecirclewithtrouble'>>

Trouble smiles down at you, easy and fond. "Anytime," he says equally quietly, his voice strangely gentle. His eyes drop to your lips, linger for a tense, buzzing moment, then glance away again as he takes another determined bite of his <i>pecchi</i>. You swallow, unconsciously biting your lips, and return your attention to your treat for another moment before you ask carefully, "How is it?" Trouble finally looks up at you with a regretful grimace. "...Way too sweet." You can't help but both break out into a fit of laughter at that; of course it would be. "Sorry," you say, beginning to feel your cheeks ache—from the sweetness of the pecchi or from how hard you've been smiling all night? "Nah, don't be." He loops his arm around your shoulders with unpracticed, unguarded affection as you both walk on. "Actually, it was still the best. 'Cause I had it with you." <<include 'dancecirclewithtrouble'>>

Trouble's hand falls away from you as if it's suddenly turned to lead. "Didn't think you were," he says, a little blankly. Then, forging past the awkward moment, he asks after a moment: "What do you think of it?" <<include 'pecchireaction'>>

<<page_break "..." "dancecirclewithtrouble2">>

Shortly thereafter, you hear the quick, bright sounds of a fiddle playing, merry shouts and the sounds of boots stomping in unison. You pause at the edge of an open square to watch a group of people—forty in number or more—dancing in a communal circle, arms linked together as they laugh and whirl and split off into easy, fluid formations before coming back together again. It's almost hypnotic to watch, like the flowing movements of some enormous, mystical sea creature rather than the individual rhythms of people moving in perfect sync. The music is infectious: a band of bards and players belt out the lines to some rural tune, punctuated by cheers from the crowd: "<i>Ho! Hah!</i>" <<nobr>><<if $heritage is "Norm">>"What is it?" Trouble asks curiously, bobbing his head unconsciously to the tune. <br><br> You smile, momentarily arrested by a warm memory—the smells of hay, clean oven-warm summer and the feeling of grass under your feet. "It's called a bow-down, or sometimes circle-dancing. More popular in the West." <br><br> "Huh." Trouble gazes out at the cavorting crowd thoughtfully. "Sure is different from the way nobles dance, isn't it?" A couple whirls past you, joyously fast; one dips the other back in a snappy movement that elicits screams of laughter and catcalls from their friends and neighbors. <<else>> "What is it?" you ask curiously, while Trouble bobs his head unconsciously to the tune. <br><br> "I think it's called a bow-down," Trouble says, though he sounds as nonplussed as you are. "Or circle-dancing. More popular in the West, I think." He grins sidelong at you. "Sure is different from the way nobles dance, isn't it?" A couple whirls past you, joyously fast; one dips the other back in a snappy movement that elicits screams of laughter and catcalls from their friends and neighbors. <</if>><</nobr>> <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Turn away. You hate dancing.</div>' 'autogenerated_688085'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Do you want to join in?"</div>' 'joindancingwithtroublecircle2'>><<settrouble +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Grab his hand. "Let's jump in!"</div>' 'joindancingwithtroublecircle'>><<settrouble +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Stand for a few minutes. You enjoy watching.</div>' 'autogenerated_688086'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

You don't see what's so fun about writhing around in public, bashing elbows with people and getting sweaty. Thankfully, Trouble seems to agree with you, since he moves on with you easily enough. <<include 'chandrysemberislandplay'>>

You and Trouble spend a few pleasant minutes standing at the edge of the crowd, cheering dancers on and laughing at the various little stories unfolding out in the square: daring looks, peacocking challenges, outrageous dance moves. After you get your fill, you decide to move on. <<include 'chandrysemberislandplay'>>

<<nobr>><<if $troubleromanceflag gte 20>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</nobr>> For a moment, Trouble's face goes a bit blank with <<nobr>><<if $troubleromanceflag gte 25>> alarm, though his grip on your hand tightens unconsciously, as if reluctant to let you go now that he has you. <<else>> alarm. <</if>><</nobr>> "Er—I'm not a great dancer," he warns you. "Got two left feet. <<nobr>><<if $rielinvestigation is true>> Remember the trade minister's gala?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Oh, please. This is nothing like that. These are our people, common folk. They don't care about minuets and steps and waltzes."</div>' 'troublestartstogrin'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I don't care. I just want to dance with you."</div>' 'troublestartstogrin'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm a bad dancer, too. But it's still fun, even when you're bad."</div>' 'troublestartstogrin'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm a good dancer; I'll teach you everything you need to know."</div>' 'troublestartstogrin'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"We'll figure it out together."</div>' 'troublestartstogrin'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <<else>> Never properly learned." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Well, this is the perfect time, then!"</div>' 'troublestartstogrin'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I don't care. I just want to dance with you."</div>' 'troublestartstogrin'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm a bad dancer, too. But it's still fun, even when you're bad."</div>' 'troublestartstogrin'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm a good dancer; I'll teach you everything you need to know."</div>' 'troublestartstogrin'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"We'll figure it out together."</div>' 'troublestartstogrin'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $troubleromanceflag gte 20>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</nobr>> For a moment, Trouble's face goes a bit blank with alarm. "Er—I'm not a great dancer," he warns you. "Got two left feet. <<nobr>><<if $rielinvestigation is true>> Remember the trade minister's gala?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Oh, please. This is nothing like that. These are our people, common folk. They don't care about minuets and steps and waltzes."</div>' 'troublestartstogrin'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I don't care. I just want to dance with you."</div>' 'troublestartstogrin'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm a bad dancer, too. But it's still fun, even when you're bad."</div>' 'troublestartstogrin'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm a good dancer; I'll teach you everything you need to know."</div>' 'troublestartstogrin'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"We'll figure it out together."</div>' 'troublestartstogrin'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <<else>> Never properly learned." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Well, this is the perfect time, then!"</div>' 'troublestartstogrin'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I don't care. I just want to dance with you."</div>' 'troublestartstogrin'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm a bad dancer, too. But it's still fun, even when you're bad."</div>' 'troublestartstogrin'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm a good dancer; I'll teach you everything you need to know."</div>' 'troublestartstogrin'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"We'll figure it out together."</div>' 'troublestartstogrin'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <</if>><</nobr>>

Trouble starts to grin, and it's without resistance that he allows you to pull him into the lively whirl, electric with sound and life and motion. You spin, hold hands with strangers and each other, twist and cavort, mimic and shout, and laugh until the stars spin overhead and you feel fit to fall over. <<nobr>><<if $troubleromanceflag gte 25>>You and Trouble fall into each other's arms and hold each other up for support when you finally walk away, finding it harder and harder to find an excuse to let go. <</if>><</nobr>> <<page_break "..." "chandrysemberislandplay">>

<<nobr>><<if $troubleromanceflag gte 30 and $troublehate is false and $trouble gte 90 and $aroace is false and $aro is false and $troubletime gte 6 and $attractedto != "women">> <<include "troubleconfession">> <<else>>You and Trouble leave the play, continuing to wander through the festival as you chatter happily and enjoy yourselves. At the end of the evening comes the Ascendancy Festival's most anticipated event: a grand, city-wide display of the most dazzling fireworks you've ever seen, turning the skies above Haven into such a tapestry of light and color that it looks like you've phased into another world entirely, a faerie realm crowned by benevolent heavens. Everyone for miles around stands in unison, you're sure, equally arrested by the auroric wonder of it all. For the moment, all your cares and worries drop away. <br><br> Trouble shoots a grin over at you. "Perfect way to end the night, eh?" he asks, nudging you familiarly. <br><br> You smile back at him. It really is. <br><br> <<page_break "..." "glowof8festival">> <</if>><</nobr>>

You and Trouble leave the play, continuing to wander through the festival as you chatter happily and enjoy yourselves. At the end of the evening comes an announcement preluding the Ascendancy Festival's most anticipated event: a grand, city-wide display of dazzling fireworks, which were rumored to have cost the new Autarch more gold than some small fiefdoms are worth. Already, throngs of people are crowding the hilltops and footbridges scattered around Haven, jockeying to get the best view; some of have already been camped there for hours. Trouble's eyes brighten in excitement as he turns to you. "I've got the perfect place to watch these," he says in a low, conspiratorial voice. He grabs your hand. "Follow me!" <<page_break "Next" "troublefireworks">>

Trouble cuts through a maze of alleyways and sidestreets to bring you to what looks like a packing warehouse on the edge of Smoketown; together, you slip through a backdoor, clamber up a thin, rusty ladder, and haul yourselves up over a few ledges onto the rooftop, which affords a spectacular view of the city's skyline. The flat roof is edged by a knee-high stone lip and features a tall smokestack chimney in its middle, casting the rest of the rooftop in a dimness that makes it feel very private and intimate and sheltered. Looking pleased, Trouble parks himself with his back against the massive chimney, patting the spot beside him in invitation. "Brilliant. I knew no one would think to come up here. All the workers have gone home." He jerks his head out towards the dark horizon: the fireworks show hasn't started yet. "And now we have the best view in the city all to ourselves." You cast him a curious glance as you slide down beside him. The bricks against your back feel pleasantly warm. "How do you even know about this place?" Trouble looks slightly abashed. "I know a lot of the hidey-holes around here," he mumbles, scratching the back of his golden head. "One's got to, you know. For the job." You narrow your eyes at him. "Meaning..." Trouble meets your eyes with a sheepish grin. "The sightlines around here are unmatched," he says simply. It takes a moment for the realization to strike you. "Trouble! You know about this place because you use it to camp out with your sniper rifle?" "As one has to," Trouble sniffs. "I'd be a poor sharpshooter if I didn't know all the high places that would afford me the best shot, right?" "How romantic." You say it sarcastically, but abruptly, Trouble's face grows more serious, and he looks away, as if suddenly nervous. <<page_break "<i>Boom!</i>" "troublefireworks2">>

You both start as the first firework explodes above you, casting everything in a luminescent green-red glow. Unconsciously, you and Trouble scoot closer to each other as you watch the sparkling display kick off, drawn together by warmth and solidity and the unspoken comfort of simply being together in this moment. He loops his arm around you; you snug up against his side as if you were always meant to be there. You lean into each other and watch in breathless silence as the horizon lights up all around you in a riotous bloom of light. They're the most dazzling fireworks you've ever seen, turning the skies above Haven into such a tapestry of color that it looks like you've phased into another world entirely, a faerie realm crowned by benevolent heavens. Bursts of teal and gold, whistling pinwheels of white phosphorus and arcs of vivid pink. Everyone for miles around, you're sure, is standing in unison, equally arrested by by the wonder, the auroric brilliance of it all. For the moment, all your cares and worries drop away. <<page_break "..." "troublefireworks25">>

Finally, it's all over. There are a few moments of darkness, an odd and breathless stillness after the cacophony of what you just witnessed. Faint smoke and the smell of black powder lingering in the air like ghosts. Then Trouble draws away from you slightly, his arm dropping from your shoulders. You glance at him, thinking this is your cue to stand up and leave, but for a moment, the gunslinger sits still, gazing out over the city like a fortune-teller trying to divine his future from tea leaves. Then he blows out a sudden breath, as if steeling his resolve. "Right." He squares his shoulders and turns to look at you. The look in his gold-ringed eyes strikes you, pierces you, as swiftly and sharply as a hawk's gaze might pin a rabbit. His expression is set, focused, utterly intent, and possibly more serious than you've ever seen it. <<page_break "Next" "troublefireworks3">>

"<<c firstname>>," Trouble begins, drawing in a deep breath, as if it's suddenly become difficult to get a full lungful. "I... I've got to tell you something. Maybe I'll regret it in the next minute, wish it'd never been said, but I can't... <i>not</i> talk about it anymore." You catch your breath. Hold it, almost as if releasing it—or moving or speaking at all—will somehow break this spell that's fallen over both of you. Trouble swallows thickly. "Ever since you joined the Shepherds," he begins carefully, like a skater feeling his way over a lake of uncertain ice, "I knew that you were different. I just felt myself... drawn to you. I figure everyone feels that way, the way you get people to join up like it's nothing, but the way we fell into step with each other, as if we'd known each other all our lives—that felt different, didn't it? Or it did for me, anyway." He blushes and looks away. "I thought, for a while, that we were just really good friends. And we <i>are</i>. Of course. But then things happened—I'd feel jealous, or we'd talk about something that'd make me wonder—and it all started adding up in my head—" He makes a fruitless, futile gesture. "And then once I figured it out, I could have bitten my own damn tongue off. I didn't want... To make you feel bad, or uncomfortable, or to make things feel <i>awkward</i> between us—that would have been—" He grimaces. "We're such good friends. I didn't want anything to change, if... if you didn't feel the same way as I did. Better not to chance it, I thought. I wouldn't have been able to forgive myself if I took that away from us." Then he lifts his eyes to yours again. "But then Wallmire happened," he chokes out, his voice thick. "And I can't keep hiding things from you, besides. It's tearing me up, trying to keep it back behind my teeth. Sorry." He swallows, catches up your hand, runs his thumb over your knuckles with such tenderness that it makes your chest flood with warmth. "I have feelings for you, <<c firstname>>," Trouble says, low and hoarse. "Romantic ones. I..." He takes another huge, steadying breath, then hurries on, the words tumbling out of him now: "I'm in love with you, actually. Have been for a while—maybe even all this time, and I was just slow to catch up, I don't know. And I know—you're my best friend, and I think I'm yours—I don't want to... to ruin it all. But I had to tell you. Didn't feel right to keep it to myself any longer." He stops abruptly, biting his lip and staring at you with such a miserable expression of piteous hope and longing that it threatens to crack your heart into two. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="flirt-item">Throw your arms around his neck and kiss him.</div>' 'autogenerated_688087'>><<set $troubleromance to true>><<set $numberofromances += 1>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 25>><<settrouble +10>><<set $troublestatus to "You are partners in every sense: best friends as well as lovers. You're in a relationship together.">><</link>> <<link '<div class="flirt-item">Touch his face gently. "I love you, too, Trouble. I have all this time."</div>' 'autogenerated_688088'>><<set $troubleromance to true>><<set $numberofromances += 1>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 25>><<settrouble +10>><<set $troublestatus to "You are partners in every sense: best friends as well as lovers. You're in a relationship together.">><</link>> <<link '<div class="flirt-item">Lean forward and rest your forehead against his. "I love you too, you idiot," you whisper. "Did you ever really believe I didn't?"</div>' 'autogenerated_688089'>><<set $troubleromance to true>><<set $numberofromances += 1>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 25>><<settrouble +10>><<set $troublestatus to "You are partners in every sense: best friends as well as lovers. You're in a relationship together.">><</link>> <<link '<div class="flirt-item">Despite yourself, you can't keep from grinning like a fool. This was better than you could have ever hoped for! You feel the same way as each other!</div>' 'autogenerated_688090'>><<set $troubleromance to true>><<set $numberofromances += 1>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 25>><<settrouble +10>><<set $troublestatus to "You are partners in every sense: best friends as well as lovers. You're in a relationship together.">><</link>> <<link '<div class="brokenheart-item">Look away, your heart heavy. "I'm sorry, Trouble. I don't feel the same way."</div>' 'autogenerated_688091'>><<set $troubleromanceflag to 0>><<settrouble -10>><<set $troublestatus to "He confessed his love to you, but you didn't feel the same way.">><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Trouble's lips are warm and firm, stiffened slightly with surprise before he finally registers what's happening and begins to return your kiss with enthusiasm. His arms close around you, drawing you to him, and joy and love and relief and fierce, happy pain seem to all intermingle as you kiss each other ferociously, with increasing wildness, your breaths coming as fast and urgent as if parting from each other would be to surrender oxygen itself. He tastes of peaches, of summer sunlight and the hot, vigorous <i>life</i> that you've come to associate with only Trouble. Your passion makes you clumsy; there are moments where your teeth click together, but neither of you care. You climb into his lap; he winds his arms around you as if afraid you'll float out of his grasp and into the sky like mist. Finally you draw back from each other, breaths ragged and panting, eyes dilated. Trouble's hands rest on your waist as he looks dazedly up at you, swallows, and then says hoarsely: "You... feel the same way as me, I take it?" You bend down to drop another kiss on his lips. "Yes. I love you, Trouble." He lets out a loud, relieved whoop and wraps his arms and legs around you anew, bearing you both to the ground in a happy tumble. <<include 'troublefireworks4'>>

It takes a moment for your words to sink in. Then Trouble breaks into the broadest, most blazing grin you've ever seen. "Really?" His voice cracks as he reaches up to cup your cheeks, his breath summer-warm and sweet against your lips. "<i>Really</i>, <<c firstname>>? You—?" "I love you," you repeat, whispering it. Your chest aches as you say it, your vision spangled, your heart throbbing wildly with the fiercest, happiest pain it's ever felt— <<include 'troublemckiss'>>

You burst into a relieved, slightly delirious laugh and hug him wildly. Trouble goes rigid in your arms in surprise; his voice is confused but slightly pleased as he says cautiously, "<<c firstname>>?" You draw back so you can look into his dear, beloved face, almost as familiar to you now as your own. The little pale scar at his temple, his short golden hair, surprisingly soft to the touch, his ears and nose and eyelashes and lips... Happiness bubbles up inside you, as well as relief. "<i>Trouble</i>," you breathe. "I was afraid that <i>you</i> didn't feel the way I did—but—it's so stupid, we've wasted so much time—but I love you, too!" It takes a moment for your words to sink in. Then Trouble breaks into the broadest, most blazing grin you've ever seen. "Really?" His voice cracks as he reaches up to cup your cheeks, his breath summer-warm and sweet against your lips. "<i>Really</i>, <<c firstname>>? You—?" "I love you," you repeat, whispering it. Your chest aches as you say it, your vision spangled, your heart throbbing wildly with the fiercest, happiest pain it's ever felt— <<include 'troublemckiss'>>

Trouble's breath leaves in a slow, resigned exhalation, as if someone in an alleyway showdown had finally pulled the knife he'd been expecting all along. "Ahh... shit, <<c firstname>>," he says, looking away. The shadow of the chimney prevents you from seeing his expression too clearly from this angle: pained, knowing, rueful, self-loathing? You can't tell. Or perhaps you simply don't want to look too closely for yourself. There are several protracted moments of the most awkward silence you've ever experienced in your life. Then Trouble stirs finally and says, his voice quiet: "I'm sorry." You wince. <<include 'dontbesorrytroubleromantic'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"No, <i>I'm</i> sorry. I feel awful."</div>' 'autogenerated_688092'>><<setcompassionate +1>><<settrouble +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"There's nothing to be sorry about. For either of us. We just... don't feel the same way. It happens."</div>' 'autogenerated_688093'>><<settrouble +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I just... thought we were friends, Trouble. It was only ever platonic on my end."</div>' 'autogenerated_688094'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Will we ever go back to the way we were? I don't want to lose what we have."</div>' 'autogenerated_688095'>><<setcompassionate -1>><<setcharisma -1>><<settrouble -5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Remain silent.</div>' 'autogenerated_688096'>><<setloyal -5>><<setcharisma -5>><<setcompassionate -5>><<settrouble -10>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Trouble gives a low shake of his head, though his eyes are still downcast. "<i>You</i> didn't do anything," he answers softly. "It just... is what it is, I s'ppose." <<include 'troublerejectionconfession'>>

Trouble blows out a rueful breath, not quite a laugh, and shakes his head. "Yeah," he says, with a trace of tired amusement. "It happens." <<include 'troublerejectionconfession'>>

Trouble winces too, as if you'd struck him. "Yeah," he says softly, letting out a long, slow breath. "I suspected as much." <<include 'troublerejectionconfession'>>

Trouble sounds very, very tired as he replies dully, "Dunno, <<c firstname>>. Give me some time. This is all, uh... still new." Then he gives a little shake of his shoulders and looks up at you, giving you a thin smile. "I'll get over it." <<include 'troublerejectionconfession'>>

Trouble grimaces and looks away from you with such a hurt slump to his shoulders that you wouldn't blame an onlooker for thinking you'd knifed him. <<include 'troublerejectionconfession'>>

<<nobr>><<if $ace is true>>"Can I kiss you?" Trouble asks then, nose-to-nose with you, almost shy. <<include "troubleaskstokiss">> <<else>>All at once, Trouble is kissing you. <br><br> <<page_break "..." "troublekissesmc">><</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Nod. You'd like nothing more than for him to kiss you.</div>' 'troublekissesmc'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Kiss him first.</div>' 'troublekissesmc'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You don't want to kiss right now.</div>' 'autogenerated_688097'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Trouble smiles at you, shaking his head. "Never mind, then. But this is real, right? It's not just a dream?" You smile back. "No, Trouble. It's not a dream." He lets out a loud, relieved whoop and wraps his arms and legs around you anew, bearing you both to the ground in a happy tumble. <<include 'troublefireworks4'>>

You've never kissed before, but by this point you're so close and familiar with each other that kissing Trouble doesn't feel alien or strange; it feels like coming <i>home</i>. His arms close around you, drawing to him, grounding you with his solid warmth, and he tastes of peaches, of summer sunlight and the hot, vigorous <i>life</i> that you've come to associate with only Trouble. He's laughing stiltedly, a little wildly, showering your face with a rain of grateful kisses, kissing your mouth and nose and eyes and cheeks as if seeking to memorize each and every feature, repeating your name in a low and murmured voice that <<nobr>><<if $ace is false>>troubles your blood and sends a flush of warmth all throughout your body... <br><br> Something between you changes, suddenly and wordlessly. Your kisses become more urgent, as ferocious and wild as if you anticipate suddenly being dragged apart. Your passion makes you clumsy; there are moments where your teeth click together, but neither of you care. You climb into his lap; your fingers tangle in each other's hair; he winds his arms around you as if afraid you'll float out of his grasp and into the sky like mist. <br><br> Finally you draw back from each other, breaths ragged and panting, eyes glazed and dilated. Trouble's hands rest on your waist as he looks dazedly up at you, swallows, and then says hoarsely: "This is real, right? It's not just a dream?" <br><br> You bend down to drop another kiss on his lips. "Yes. This is real, Trouble. I love you." <br><br> He lets out a loud, relieved whoop and wraps his arms and legs around you anew, bearing you both to the ground in a happy tumble. <br><br> <<include "troublefireworks4">> <<else>> makes you break out into a smile. <br><br> Finally he draws back from you, looking at you with a dazed, happy grin on his face. "This is real, right?" he whispers. "It's not just a dream?" <br><br> You bend down to drop another kiss on his lips. "Yes. This is real, Trouble. I love you." <br><br> He lets out a loud, relieved whoop and wraps his arms and legs around you anew, bearing you both to the ground in a happy tumble. <br><br> <<include "troublefireworks4">><</if>><</nobr>>

<<page_break "..." "troublefireworks5">>

<<nobr>> <<if $bladeromanceflag gte 0>><<set $bladeromanceflag to 0>><</if>> <<if $tallyssex is true>><<set $tallysromanceflag -= 15>><<elseif $tallysromanceflag gte 0>><<set $tallysromanceflag to 0>><</if>> <<if $sheryromanceflag gte 0>><<set $sheryromanceflag to 0>><</if>> <<if $rielromanceflag gte 0>><<set $rielromanceflag to 0>><</if>> <<if $chasesex is true>><<set $chaseromanceflag -= 20>><<elseif $chaseromanceflag gte 0>><<set $chaseromanceflag to 0>><</if>> <<if $redromanceflag gte 0>><<set $redromanceflag to 0>><</if>> <<if $aylaromanceflag gte 0>><<set $aylaromanceflag to 0>><</if>> <<if $brionyromanceflag gte 0>><<set $brionyromanceflag to 0>><</if>> <<if $lavinetromanceflag gte 0>><<set $lavinetromanceflag to 0>><</if>> <</nobr>> Later—much later, many hours of low, thrilled voices and muffled laughter later, filled with animated questions and incredulous talk—("When did you realize?" "I don't know, exactly, but I know I hated it when that bloody <i>Cordy</i> asked you out—what about you?")— Trouble finally stirs and runs the backs of his knuckles along your cheek with a happy sigh. You're sitting with his legs folded around you, your back to his chest as he rubs his nose against your hair and breathes in the scent of you as he's "been dying to for months," as he so unabashedly informs you. "Well," he says, drawing back to look at you. His voice is a bit different to you, now, perhaps forever altered by what's passed between you: it's deeper, more soothing, wholly content, somehow. "What do we tell the others?" You think on it together for a while. There's the official policy against fraternizing with other Shepherds, for one thing; your various enemies, demonic and political alike, for another. And there's also the fact that you'd like to give your newfound relationship—how the word still sends a thrill blazing along your nerves—time to blossom and grow without adding all of these other external pressures and scrutinies into the mix. So you both decide to keep quiet on the matter, for now. <<nobr>><<if $chasesex is true>> At first, Trouble seems perfectly content with that; he doesn't really seem in a state of mind to care about your public status either way—or really anything ever again, for that matter. But then, just as you're thinking it, he suddenly turns to you with a more sober expression. <br><br> "Chase," is all he says. It's simple, unaccusing, but you can't mistaken the somberness in his tone. And perhaps even just a tinge of guilt in his gold-blue eyes? "I'm sorry, <<c halfname>>. But whatever's between the two of you—you don't need to tell me. I've no right to ask. The only bit I need to know is that it's over, for you; the whole thing. If we're really together now, if this is real, I can't... share you. You're the only one for me. Now and always. I hope it's the same way for you." <br><br> He leaves it there, waiting patiently for your response. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="flirt-item">"Of course. What Chase and I have is over."</div>' 'autogenerated_688098'>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 5>><<settrouble +5>><<set $chaseromanceflag -= 10>><</link>> <<link '<div class="brokenheart-item">Look away. You're not willing to end things with Chase.</div>' 'autogenerated_688099'>><<set $troubleromanceflag to 0>><<settrouble -50>><<set $troublestatus to "He confessed his love to you, but you didn't feel the same way.">><<set $chaseromanceflag += 10>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <<elseif $tallyssex is true>> At first, Trouble seems perfectly content with that; he doesn't really seem in a state of mind to care about your public status either way—or really anything ever again, for that matter. But then, just as you're thinking it, he suddenly turns to you with a more sober expression. <br><br> "Tallys," is all he says. It's simple, unaccusing, but you can't mistaken the somberness in his tone. And perhaps even just a tinge of guilt in his gold-blue eyes? "I'm sorry, <<c halfname>>. But whatever's between the two of you—you don't need to tell me. I've no right to ask. The only bit I need to know is that it's over, for you; the whole thing. If we're really together now, if this is real, I can't... share you. You're the only one for me. Now and always. I hope it's the same way for you." <br><br> He leaves it there, waiting patiently for your response. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="flirt-item">"Of course. What Tallys and I have is over."</div>' 'autogenerated_688100'>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 5>><<settrouble +5>><<set $tallysromanceflag -= 10>><</link>> <<link '<div class="brokenheart-item">Look away. You're not willing to end things with Tallys.</div>' 'autogenerated_688101'>><<set $troubleromanceflag to 0>><<settrouble -50>><<set $troublestatus to "He confessed his love to you, but you didn't feel the same way.">><<set $tallysromanceflag += 10>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <<else>> Trouble seems perfectly content with that; he doesn't really seem in a state of mind to care about your public status either way—or really anything ever again, for that matter. He'll agree to anything you say, you're pretty sure; he hasn't stopped grinning since you both confessed. He turns to you, and his expression is both gratified and awed, as if somewhat bewildered by his sudden turn of incredible good luck. <<if $gender is "female">>"But you'll be my girl?" he asks, the way city boys and Ashtown men say it, his grin shy, boyish, enormously pleased. <br><br> You laugh. "Trouble, I've <i>been</i> your girl." <br><br> <<if $ace is false>> He catches you up in his arms with a shout of laughter and kisses you again. <<else>> He catches you up in his arms with a shout of laughter again. <</if>> <br><br> <<page_break "..." "glowof8festival">> <<else>> "But you'll be mine?" he asks, his grin shy, boyish, enormously pleased. "The way I'm yours?" <br><br> You laugh. "Trouble, I've <i>been</i> yours." <br><br> <<if $ace is false>> He catches you up in his arms with a shout of laughter and kisses you again. <<else>> He catches you up in his arms with a shout of laughter again. <</if>> <br><br> <<page_break "..." "glowof8festival">> <</if>><</if>><</nobr>>

Trouble smiles at you, then gathers you up in his arms and holds you tightly. "That's good," you hear him sigh against your hair in apparent, contented relief. "That's good." <<include 'shuttallyssexdowntrouble'>>

The look on Trouble's face when he realizes what your silence means could only be described as shattered. He reels back from you: a dead silence calls over you both with a weight that threatens to crush your heart into pulp. You can't even look at him again. Just like that, the magic between you has evaporated like champagne gone flat. Trouble takes a deep breath. "Right," he finally says, so dully that he sounds like a completely different person. "That's that, then." He pulls himself to his feet without looking at you or touching you; you suddenly feel chilled to the bone. "I suppose I'll walk you back, shall I?" The walk back to the compound is excruciating. You keep peeking up at Trouble's suddenly unreadable face, keep trying to think of some solution, some way out of this whole mess—but nothing comes to mind, and all the words seem to have dried up in your throat. Trouble deposits you by the Shepherds' side gate and walks away into the crowd without another word. <<include 'festival8fadesad'>>

Trouble smiles at you, then gathers you up in his arms and holds you tightly. "That's good," you hear him sigh against your hair in apparent contented relief. "That's good." <<include 'shutchasesexdowntrouble'>>

After a few more excruciating minutes, Trouble finally stirs and rises stiffly to his feet, murmuring something about walking you home. You walk back to the compound in silence, though Trouble only sees you to the gate before turning right around with a little acknowledging head nod and a weary wave. A trace of a smile, gallantly trying to look reassuring, when you stare worriedly after him. You watch as he slips back into the crowds and disappears. <<page_break "..." "glowof8festival">>

<<page_break "..." "glowof8festival">>

<<page_break "..." "shuttallyssexdowntrouble2">>

<<set $tallyssex to false>>Tallys takes the news with her usual aplomb: she listens to you carefully, her face composed, before she inclines her head and says simply, "But of course. We always acted with the understanding that this was... informal, didn't we?" She smiles quietly at you, <<if $tallysromanceflag gte 10>>though—and it may be just your imagination—the smile seems a little sad. <<else>> maybe even a little amused. <</if>> "It would be the height of hypocrisy to act otherwise. Trouble has nothing to fear from me." Then she pauses, rises, and crosses the room to you, taking your hands between hers. That touch, now so familiar to you, cool and silvery as water. "Let us part as friends, dear one," she says to you, in a warm, gentle tone that sends a pang straight to your heart. "We will always be friends." Later, at the end of your talk and just as you're about to leave, she calls out after you one last time. "<<c firstname>>?" Tallys smiles at you, the look surprisingly sweet. "Congratulations to you," she says in her low voice. "Trouble is a good man, and you are more wonderful than I can say. I hope you share many blessings together." She gives you an Elven gesture, one of heartfelt sincerity. "I am very happy for you both." <<page_break "..." "glowof8festival">>

<<page_break "..." "shutchasesexdowntrouble2">>

<<set $chasesex to false>>You catch Chase in the hallway, going the other way; his mouth quirks as he slouches towards you, hands casually in his pockets as he begins, "How was the festival? Heard you went with—" He stops instantly at the look on your face. And, true to form, he doesn't even need to be told anything explicit before he's made his own lightning-fast deductions about what's transpired. <<nobr>><<if $chaseromanceflag lt 10>>A lazy, wicked grin curls across his face, tongue stretching his cheek. "Well, well, well. I can't believe he actually did it. I don't know which one of you's surprised me more." <br><br> You open your mouth to speak—to tell him, to apologize—but Chase merely holds up his hand with an easy grin. "Say no more, $nickname. I'm not here to make anything complicated for you. I'll get out of your hair. We always said we'd treat this thing fun and easy, right? Be pals about it. I'm not looking to get in Trouble's way." He adds, with brutal nonchalance: "Lords know he's been pining after you for long enough as it is. I thought he was going to waste away to dust for a while there." <br><br> Then he grins at you. Saunters over and gives you a playful tweak of the earlobe. "It's been fun, $nickname," he tells you blithely, with just a hint of mischief. "Can't say I won't miss it. But we'll always be friends, right? We always said that would come first." He gives you a lazy wave as he begins to saunter off again. "You two take care of each other," he calls over his shoulder. "Many happy blessings, and all that. But if you ever need a friendly ear, don't forget ol' Chase is always around to help out." <<else>> He blinks for a moment, once, twice, before he gives a lazy, relaxed kind of smile, his eyes suddenly unreadable. "Uh-<i>huh</i>. Well, well, well. You and Trouble, huh? Who'd have thunk?" <br><br> You open your mouth to speak—to tell him, to apologize—but Chase cuts in, a little too quickly: "I'm happy for you both. Truly. You, ah... you both deserve happiness. Trouble's a good man, and you're... you. Perfection." He glances away and clears his throat, rocking back and forth on his feet like he's suddenly nervous. "And don't worry. I'm not here to make anything complicated for you. I'll get out of your hair. We always said we'd treat this thing fun and easy, right? Be pals about it. So that's what we'll do." <br><br> He gives you a quick smile and makes to saunter past, as casual and easy as that. But when he's just about to pass you, he pauses, suddenly reaches up to cup your cheek. His green eyes on yours are suddenly very serious, intent: as if he's trying to memorize your face. "It's been fun, $nickname," he says softly—as if the false cheer in his voice before had been for someone other listener's benefit. His palm is warm and slim against your skin. "Can't say I won't miss it. But, ah... it is what it is." His eyes glance away from yours, and his hand drops. "We always knew it had to end sometime, right?" <br><br> He begins to walk away again, not looking back. His voice is firm and friendly as he calls back tover his shoulder: "Many happy blessings, and all. I hope you take good care of each other." Then he pauses and does glance back, his eyes now in shadow with the light behind him. "But if you ever need my help—I hope you'll come straight to me. You're still $nickname to me. And I'm always going to be your friend." <br><br> He tips you a ghost of a wink and a lazy salute before he disappears. <</if>><</nobr>> <<page_break "..." "glowof8festival">>

<<if settings.music is true>><<audio ":playing" fadeout>><</if>> <<fadein 10s>> <<fadeout 5s 8s>><div class="chapterlogo"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/logos/chaptercroplogo.png" alt="Shepherds of Haven"><center><span class="chapterglow">Chapter Eight</span></center></div><</fadeout>> <</fadein>> <<timed 13s>><<goto "chapter8begin">><</timed>><span class="next">[[Next|chapter8begin]]</span> <<set $reunioncompanion to "", $enterthetower to 3, $saveeyvi to false, $key to false, $doubletrouble to false, $nemekslain to 0, $threatencalixte to false, $falsekey to false, $shiko to false, $failriddle to false, $festivalpartner to "">>

<<nobr>><<if $possessed is true>><<goto "startchapter8possessed">><<else>><<if settings.notifications>><<notify 10s>><span class="fas fa-book-open"></span> Mission Completed! <br><br> <span class="desc">Gold, Health, and Journal Updated!</span><</notify>><</if>><</if>><</nobr>> You awake in darkness. Almost before your mind can register it, your body tells you that you're home: there's something in the ambient temperature of the dimly-lit room, the smell of clean sheets and antiseptic, and the dull echo of stone and distant chatter that is achingly reminiscent of the Shepherd infirmary. You stir feebly, then instantly regret it; your limbs feel like they're weighed down by cold iron, and your head throbs with a listless headache, the kind that follows a broken fever. You sink back against your plush pillow and sigh—how did you get here? How long have you been out? Then, with a sudden jolt, you realize that you're not alone. <<nobr>> <<friendshipcalc>><<romancecalc>> <<if ($aro is true or $aroace is true) and $chasesex is false>> <<include "friendsreunite2">> <<else>> <<include "romancereunite2">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $highestromance is "blade">> <<set $reunioncompanion to "blade">><<include "bladereunite2">> <<elseif $highestromance is "trouble">> <<set $reunioncompanion to "trouble">><<include "troublereunite2">> <<elseif $highestromance is "tallys">> <<set $reunioncompanion to "tallys">><<include "tallysreunite2">> <<elseif $highestromance is "shery">> <<set $reunioncompanion to "shery">><<include "sheryreunite2">> <<elseif $highestromance is "chase">> <<set $reunioncompanion to "chase">><<include "chasereunite2">> <<elseif $highestromance is "riel">> <<set $reunioncompanion to "riel">><<include "rielreunite2">> <<elseif $highestromance is "red">> <<set $reunioncompanion to "red">><<include "redreunite2">> <<elseif $highestromance is "ayla">> <<set $reunioncompanion to "ayla">><<include "aylareunite2">> <<elseif $highestromance is "briony">> <<set $reunioncompanion to "briony">><<include "brionyreunite2">> <<elseif $highestromance is "lavinet">> <<set $reunioncompanion to "lavinet">><<include "lavinetreunite2">> <<else>> <<include "friendsreunite2">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $highestfriendship is "blade">> <<set $reunioncompanion to "blade">><<include "bladereunite2">> <<elseif $highestfriendship is "trouble">> <<set $reunioncompanion to "trouble">><<include "troublereunite2">> <<elseif $highestfriendship is "tallys">> <<set $reunioncompanion to "tallys">><<include "tallysreunite2">> <<elseif $highestfriendship is "shery">> <<set $reunioncompanion to "shery">><<include "sheryreunite2">> <<elseif $highestfriendship is "chase">> <<set $reunioncompanion to "chase">><<include "chasereunite2">> <<elseif $highestfriendship is "riel">> <<set $reunioncompanion to "riel">><<include "rielreunite2">> <<elseif $highestfriendship is "red">> <<set $reunioncompanion to "red">><<include "redreunite2">> <<elseif $highestfriendship is "ayla">> <<set $reunioncompanion to "ayla">><<include "aylareunite2">> <<elseif $highestfriendship is "briony">> <<set $reunioncompanion to "briony">><<include "brionyreunite2">> <<elseif $highestfriendship is "lavinet">> <<set $reunioncompanion to "lavinet">><<include "lavinetreunite2">> <<else>> <<set $reunioncompanion to "halek">><<include "halekreunite2">> <</if>><</nobr>>

There's a shadow leaning up against the wall nearest to you, its arms folded and its features obscured. In a moment, the shadow resolves into a more familiar figure: Blade, standing rigidly against the wall with his arms folded and his eyes closed, in the stance of a soldier at rest—almost as if he picked a vantage point that would best allow him to survey your bed while simultaneously guarding the door. He seems to have been in a state of dozing or light meditation—but at your slight movement, his eyes snap open and he looks alertly towards you, his Ket eyes glinting in the half-dark. "<<c firstname>>," he says, and though you can't see his expression well, his quiet voice is thick with both caution and relief. He approaches your bedside. <<nobr>><<if $highestromance is "blade">> His arm moves slightly, his fingers flexing, almost as if he might reach for you, touch your face or grasp your hand; you have the impression of an involuntary motion, forcibly checked. But despite the restraint, you see tight pain and tension in his gaze as he stares down at you, as stiff and unmoving as a statue. "How do you feel?" he asks, his voice low and strained. "What do you need?" <<else>> "How do you feel?" <</if>><</nobr>> You look around wonderingly. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"What happened?"' 'blade8blows'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"How did we get back home?"' 'blade8blows'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"How long have I been out?"' 'blade8blows'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Blade blows out a sharp breath. "Do you remember what happened before you lost consciousness?" The memory swims up through the headachy fog in your skull. "We were at that temple," you begin. "Mimir had me touch that… that artifact, the thing she called a luminary. And then…" You trail off, not quite sure what to say, and for a moment, you and Blade stare at each other in silence. Finally he says softly, "After… what happened, you lost consciousness. Antiqua translocated us back to the compound so we could get you treatment. The Healers examined you and said there was nothing physically wrong with you—you just needed rest. You've been asleep for five days." You try to move the heavy blanket off of your lap and swing your legs down to the ground, but your movements are sluggish and clumsy; Blade instantly makes an abortive motion, as if to restrain you. "I'm getting the Healer," he says, frowning down at you. "Then we can talk." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "bladereunite2i">><</link>></center>

The Healer in question, a severe, no-nonsense woman named Elemnestra Vasilea, brings with her a blaze of light, a general bustle and flurry of brisk commotion, and overall fervor as others begin to spread the word throughout the compound that you're awake. In typical Healer fashion, she is entirely unmoved by the unusualness of your return or the circumstances that brought you into the infirmary. Instead, she issues a series of the usual sharp-tongued reprimands and complaints that the Healers of the Order are generally known for, while Blade hovers intently in the background. <<nobr>><<if $highestromance is "blade">> "All you needed was a bit of rest, but the Commander here could not leave you well enough alone," she informs you tartly, even as she fluffs up your pillow with a gentle hand. "He didn't leave your side the entire time you've been here, except to bathe and sleep, and even then he put a guard at your door. As if anyone could attack you here, in the heart of the compound! It was <i>most</i> disruptive. He's even had people bring him work and mission briefings here! This is <i>not</i> your command center or war room, it is a place of <i>healing</i>." This is directed at Blade, who remains sullenly silent. <<else>> "All you needed was a bit of rest, but the Commander kept disrupting us by coming to check on you every few hours, sending all of my orderlies in a fresh tizzy," she informs you tartly, even as she fluffs up your pillow with a gentle hand. Blade remains sullenly silent in the midst of these accusations. <</if>><</nobr>> "And let's not forget all of the back and forth over this Seer. If you hadn't woken up soon, I think he would have had her thrown in the dungeons." "Where is Mimir?" you ask, trying to sip on a hot tonic she's shoved into your hands. <<nobr>><<if ($specialization is "healer" and $magic gte 40) and $intelligence gte 50>> <<setintelligence +1>> Your sensitive nose picks up the smells of asper and bristic: it's a potion to increase vigor, strength, and to rouse a sleeper from waking. <</if>><</nobr>> "We brought her back with us," Blade answers darkly. "The wards and spirits allowed her in, so it seems she harbors no ill intentions towards us. From what we can gather, it seems she did know that…" He glances at the Healer and falls broodingly silent for a moment. "She did anticipate what occurred at the temple. But she didn't expect it to have such a physical effect on you. Still, she never seemed worried and was confident that you would wake up eventually, which ended up being her saving grace. Shery tried to give her a room, but it seems she's more comfortable in a tent in one of the unused courtyards. Something about too many people resulting in too many visions for her. She's content to be here, for now, but she needs time away from others." You lower the cup of tonic, only for Elemnestra to busily shove it back up towards your mouth. "I'd like to speak to her about what happened, if I can." Blade nods. "I'll have her brought here once you've recovered some of your strength." However, before that can happen, there's a commotion at the door, the sounds of many voices talking at once, eliciting a <i>tsk</i> of annoyance from Elemnestra. She strides over to the door and snaps it open, only to reveal a crowd of your friends packed into the narrow hallway while they argue with the guard posted up by your door. <<nobr>><<if $troublehate is false>> Trouble shoves his way past the anxious-looking guard and says, wind-tousled and breathless, "<<c halfname>>. We heard you were awake." He shoots an annoyed look at Blade just as Chase slips soundlessly into the room and Briony wriggles her way through the doorway; a whole procession of people surrounds your bed then, Shery and Tallys and Red and all the others, patting your bedspread or touching your shoulder or hugging you with obvious relief. "You were <i>supposed</i> to send word, you know." <<else>> Chase slips his way past the anxious-looking guard and says smoothly, "Glad to see you're finally up, $nickname: we were beginning to worry. Spike here was supposed to send word that you were awake, but it seems he's intent on hogging you." He shoots a pointed look at Blade as a whole procession of people surrounds your bed: Ayla shoves her way into the room and Briony wriggles free of the doorway, and all the others come to pat your bedspread or touch your shoulder or hug you with obvious relief. <</if>><</nobr>> "I wanted to give $them time to recover before everyone came to bombard $them with attention," Blade returns acidly. Elemnestra is nearly beside herself in indignation. "We have a visitor policy for a reason," she hisses. "Eleven people crowding the patient at one time is completely unnecessary!" <<include "everyonesreunion">>

Ayla crosses her arms and sits down forcefully on your bed, as if daring the Healer to try and move her. "You yourself said <<c firstname>> is completely fine," she challenges. "And besides, we've got important things to talk about." Elemnestra rolls her eyes. "I suppose that's my cue to find you a meal," she mutters, nodding to you. "But if you find yourself growing tired again, or experience any other change in your condition, send the guard for me and I'll have the lot of them thrown out." Once she's exited, everyone turns to you, a mixture of expressions on their faces: expectation, caution, relief, apprehension, guardedness, and confusion. You expect the same feelings are reflected on your own. "So," Ayla says matter-of-factly. "What's all this about gods and demons?" You tense up. "What are you talking about?" Your voice cracks a little despite yourself, and, unbidden, your heart rate begins to climb. "Did you… was I talking in my sleep?" The pragmatic, expectant look on Ayla's face fades; an uncomfortable silence falls over the rest of the room. Red is looking at you with a sympathetic, contemplative expression. "You must not remember," he says quietly, leaning his hip against your bedside table. "When you touched the luminary… it exploded into light, and you were cloaked in a kind of strange radiance. You fell into some sort of trance. You couldn't hear any of us, and we couldn't get you to let go of the luminary: it was almost as if you were welded to it. And when you spoke, a… voice spoke back to you, as if the artifact was some kind of connection or amplifier." "And how much did you hear?" you whisper, feeling a kind of slow-moving shock and horror. Everyone in the room is regarding you seriously. "Everything," Red says heavily, as if sorry to be the one to deliver bad news. "We heard it all." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "summation">><</link>></center>

There's someone slouched into the armchair next to your bed, their eyes closed but their breathing indicating simple dozing or rest, but not true sleep. At your slight movement, their eyes instantly snap open, and they unwind themselves alertly from the chair. You catch the glint of blue-gold and the familiar, warm scent of charch smoke and leather, and you whisper, "Trouble?" "<i><<c halfname>></i>," he breathes, lunging forward to pull you into a fierce hug. "God's hounds, you gave us a scare! Glad to see you finally awake!" You look around wonderingly. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"What happened?"' 'trouble8pushing'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"How did we get back home?"' 'trouble8pushing'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"How long have I been out?"' 'trouble8pushing'>><</link>></li> </ul>

He's pushing you gently down and drawing your blanket up to your chin. <<nobr>><<if $highestromance is "trouble">> Almost completely unconsciously, his gloved hand reaches up to cradle your face, the gesture tender and comforting as he runs his thumb against your jawline. His eyes flick over your face as a relieved smile plays against his own. <</if>><</nobr>> "You lost consciousness," he says quietly. "After Mimir made you touch that luminous-whatever, you… ah, you passed out, and Red had to translocate all of us back here so we could get you treatment. The Healers looked you over and said there's nothing wrong with you, though: just that you needed rest. You've been out for five days." You try to move the heavy blanket off of your lap and swing your legs down to the ground, but your movements are sluggish and clumsy; Trouble instantly pushes you back down again, as if to restrain you. "None of that," he chides gently, frowning down at you. "I'm getting the Healer, and then we can talk." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "troublereunite2i">><</link>></center>

The Healer in question, a severe, no-nonsense woman named Elemnestra Vasilea, brings with her a blaze of light, a general bustle and flurry of brisk commotion, and overall fervor as others begin to spread the word throughout the compound that you're awake. In typical Healer fashion, she is entirely unmoved by the unusualness of your return or the circumstances that brought you into the infirmary. Instead, she issues a series of the usual sharp-tongued reprimands and complaints that the Healers of the Order are generally known for, while Trouble hovers intently in the background. <<nobr>><<if $highestromance is "trouble">> "All you needed was a bit of rest, but the Vice-Commander could not leave you well enough alone," she informs you tartly, even as she fluffs up your pillow with a gentle hand. "He didn't leave your side the entire time you've been here, except to bathe and sleep, and once or twice I even caught him falling asleep with his head on your bed! It was <i>most</i> disruptive. He's even been taking his meals here! This is <i>not</i> your personal living suite, it is a place of <i>healing</i>." This is directed at Trouble, who rolls his eyes and pantomimes a yapping puppet behind her back. <<else>> "All you needed was a bit of rest, but the Vice-Commander kept disrupting us by coming to check on you every few hours, sending all of my orderlies in a fresh tizzy," she informs you tartly, even as she fluffs up your pillow with a gentle hand. Trouble smiles his boyish, charmer's smile and says affably, "Ah, El, you loved having me here so much." <br><br> "I did not," the Healer returns crisply. <</if>><</nobr>> "And let's not forget all of the back and forth over this Seer. If you hadn't woken up soon, I think the Commander would have had her thrown in the dungeons." "Where is Mimir?" you ask, trying to sip on a hot tonic she's shoved into your hands. <<nobr>><<if ($specialization is "healer" and $magic gte 40) and $intelligence gte 50>> <<setintelligence +1>> Your sensitive nose picks up the smells of asper and bristic: it's a potion to increase vigor, strength, and to rouse a sleeper from waking. <</if>><</nobr>> Trouble runs a hand through his slightly disheveled golden hair. "We brought her back with us," he says with a shrug. "The wards and all let her in, so it's not as if she has ill intentions—not that I ever thought she did. But from what we could piece together, she definitely knew…" He glances surreptitiously at Elemnestra, then decides to reverse course. "She, ah, she knew in general what was going to happen at the temple, it seems. But she didn't think it was going to knock you out for five days. Still, she was very calm about it; said she knew you were going to wake up any day now. Shery tried to give her a room, but she's taken to sleeping in a tent in one of the side courtyards, the weedy one that no one ever uses. Something about too many people being under one roof giving her too many visions. Looks like she's going to stick around here, but she's more comfortable living sort of apart from others." You lower the cup of tonic, only for Elemnestra to busily shove it back up towards your mouth. "I'd like to speak to her about what happened, if I can." He nods. "We can send for her once you've got a hot meal in you and some time to get your bearings." However, before that can happen, there's a commotion at the door, the sounds of many voices talking at once, eliciting a <i>tsk</i> of annoyance from Elemnestra. She strides over to the door and snaps it open, only to reveal a crowd of your friends packed into the narrow hallway while they argue with Blade, who's conversing with a guard posted up by your door. <<nobr>><<if $brionyhate is false>> Briony shoves her way past both Blade and the guard and says breathlessly, "<<c firstname>>! We heard you were awake!" She shoots an annoyed look at Trouble just as Chase slips soundlessly in behind her and Riel strides calmly into the room; a whole procession of people surrounds your bed then, Shery and Tallys and Red and all the others, patting your bedspread or touching your shoulder or hugging you with obvious relief. "You were <i>supposed</i> to send word as soon as $she woke up, you know." <<else>> Chase slips his way past the anxious-looking guard and says smoothly, "Glad to see you're finally up, $nickname: we were beginning to worry. Trubs here was supposed to send word that you were awake, but it seems he's intent on hogging you." He shoots a pointed look at Trouble as a whole procession of people surrounds your bed: Ayla shoves her way into the room and Briony wriggles free of the doorway, and all the others come to pat your bedspread or touch your shoulder or hug you with obvious relief. <</if>><</nobr>> "<<c she>> just woke up a few minutes ago," Trouble returns defensively. "I wasn't about to go sprinting out of the room to fetch you." Elemnestra is nearly beside herself in indignation as everyone comes streaming in. "We have a visitor policy for a reason," she hisses. "Eleven people crowding the patient at one time is completely unnecessary!" <<include "everyonesreunion">>

There's a lithe shadow curled up in the armchair beside you, so still and unmoving that whoever it is seems hardly to be breathing at all. In a moment, the shadow resolves itself into a more familiar shape: Tallys, sitting with her legs crossed and her eyes closed, as if in deep meditation. You recognize it as the kind of half-rest that Elves are capable of entering without falling into true sleep. At your slight movement, her green eyes blink open and leap instantly to yours. <<nobr>><<if $tallyssex is true>> "<i>Elan</i>," she breathes, flowing to her feet and wrapping her arms around your neck, surrounding you with the scent of cool mint and sweet alyssum. She presses a fervent kiss to your brow, then your lips. <<else>> "<<c firstname>>," she breathes, seizing your hands and pressing them against her forehead in an Elvish gesture of unrestrained relief. <</if>><</nobr>> "You're awake, thank the gods. How do you feel? What do you need?" You look around wonderingly. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"What happened?"' 'tallys8presses'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"How did we get back home?"' 'tallys8presses'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"How long have I been out?"' 'tallys8presses'>><</link>></li> </ul>

<<nobr>><<if $tallyssex is true>> Tallys presses your knuckles to her lips. <<else>> Tallys smooths a nurturing hand through your hair. <</if>><</nobr>> "What's the last thing you remember before you lost consciousness?" The memory swims up through the headachy fog in your skull. "We were at that temple in the Bleakmoor," you begin. "Mimir, a Seer… she had me touch an… an artifact, this thing she called a luminary. And then…" You trail off, not quite sure what to say, and for a moment, you and Tallys stare at each other in silence. Finally she says softly, "After… what happened, you fell unconscious, and Red translocated you all back home so the Healers could treat you. They gave you a full examination and said there was nothing physically wrong with you—you simply needed rest. You've been asleep for five days." You try to move the heavy blanket off of your lap and swing your legs down to the ground, but your movements are sluggish and clumsy; Tallys instantly puts a firm hand on your shoulder, pressing you back down into your pillows. "The Healer needs to see you first," she says, in a gentle tone that still leaves no room for argument. "Then we can talk." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "thetallys8healer">><</link>></center>

The Healer in question, a severe, no-nonsense woman named Elemnestra Vasilea, brings with her a blaze of light, a general bustle and flurry of brisk commotion, and overall fervor as others begin to spread the word throughout the compound that you're awake. In typical Healer fashion, she is entirely unmoved by the unusualness of your return or the circumstances that brought you into the infirmary. Instead, she issues a series of the usual sharp-tongued reprimands and complaints that the Healers of the Order are generally known for, while Tallys watches on in the background. <<nobr>><<if $highestromance is "tallys" and $tallyssex is true>> "All you needed was a bit of rest, but everyone was in such a panic," she informs you tartly, even as she fluffs up your pillow with a gentle hand. "Captain Ironwood didn't leave your side the entire time you've been here, except to bathe and eat, and she wouldn't let anyone else watch over you. She hasn't slept in days!" <br><br> "Elves don't need to sleep as much as others do," Tallys murmurs: this is clearly a conversation they've had before. Elemnestra grumbles a bit, but she clearly respects the Elven archer, because she changes the subject. <<else>> "All you needed was a bit of rest, but everyone was in such a panic. Captain Ironwood has been checking on you every few hours, acting as your nurse herself!" Her voice is exasperated even as she fluffs up your pillow with a gentle hand. <</if>><</nobr>> "<i>She</i> wasn't disruptive, thankfully, but the others were, arguing back and forth over this Seer. If you hadn't woken up soon, I think the Commander would have had her thrown in the dungeons." "Where is Mimir?" you ask, trying to sip on a hot tonic she's shoved into your hands. <<nobr>><<if ($specialization is "healer" and $magic gte 40) and $intelligence gte 50>> <<setintelligence +1>> Your sensitive nose picks up the smells of asper and bristic: it's a potion to increase vigor, strength, and to rouse a sleeper from waking. <</if>><</nobr>> "Red brought her back with the group," Tallys answers, handing you a cool, clean washcloth from a nearby basin. "None of the wards or spirits reacted to her presence, so it seems she harbors no ill intentions towards the Order." She shakes her head. "Poor woman. I've never encountered such an cryptic soul, so full of latent power, and yet so helpless—and from what Red and Trouble communicated, it seems her existence is quite a heavy one. I can't imagine what a curse it would be, constantly seeing visions of the future whether I wanted to or not." She glances at the Healer and falls pointedly silent for a moment. "It seems that she did anticipate what happened at the temple, but she didn't expect it to have such a physical effect on you. Still, she was always confident that you would wake up hale and whole. Luckily for her, it seems she was right." "Where is she now?" you ask. Tallys sighs. "Shery gave her one of the rooms on the fourth floor, but she wasn't comfortable there: being surrounded by people, it seems, overwhelms her senses. She insisted on sleeping in a tent in one of the unused courtyards—the one to the left of the community garden." You lower the cup of tonic, only for Elemnestra to busily shove it back up towards your mouth. "I'd like to speak to her about what happened, if I can." Tallys nods. "I'm sure you'll be able to after you've recovered some of your strength strength." However, before that can happen, there's a commotion at the door, the sounds of many voices talking at once, eliciting a <i>tsk</i> of annoyance from Elemnestra. She strides over to the door and snaps it open, only to reveal a crowd of your friends packed into the narrow hallway, arguing with Blade as he converses with the guard posted up by your door. <<nobr>><<if $troublehate is false>> Trouble shoves his way past the anxious-looking guard and says, wind-tousled and breathless, "<<c halfname>>. We heard you were awake." He shoots an annoyed look at Tallys just as Chase slips soundlessly into the room and Briony wriggles her way through the doorway; a whole procession of people surrounds your bed then, Shery and Riel and Red and all the others, patting your bedspread or touching your shoulder or hugging you with obvious relief. "You were <i>supposed</i> to send word, you know." <<else>> Chase slips his way past the anxious-looking guard and says smoothly, "Glad to see you're finally up, $nickname: we were beginning to worry. Tallys here was supposed to send word that you were awake, but it seems she's intent on hogging you." He shoots a pointed look at Tallys as a whole procession of people surrounds your bed: Ayla shoves her way into the room and Briony wriggles free of the doorway, and all the others come to pat your bedspread or touch your shoulder or hug you with obvious relief. <</if>><</nobr>> "I wanted to give $them time to recover before everyone came to bombard ${them} with attention," Tallys returns coolly. Elemnestra is nearly beside herself in indignation. "We have a visitor policy for a reason," she hisses. "Eleven people crowding the patient at one time is completely unnecessary!" <<include "everyonesreunion">>

There's a small shadow curled up in the armchair beside you, breathing so softly and lightly that it hardly seems to be moving at all. In another moment, the shadow resolves itself into a more familiar shape: Shery, her legs curled up and tucked beneath her skirt and her head propped awkwardly against her shoulder, with an open book in her lap. The book seems to be some kind of encyclopedia of potions and herbs to encourage a speedy recovery. Shery seems to have fallen asleep while reading it, but at your slight movement, she stirs, and her large blue eyes open sleepily to meet yours. She sits bolt upright in her chair. "<<c firstname>>!" she gasps, surging to her feet as if caught in the middle of some profane act. "You're awake! Oh—um—how do you feel?" <<nobr>><<if $sheryromanceflag gte 25>> Timidly, she places a trembling hand on your bedspread, as if longing to touch you, before she draws it back. <<else>> As if overwhelmed with gladness, she dives forward to throw her arms around your neck, surrounding you with the silky cloud of her long hair before hastily drawing back. <</if>><</nobr>> Her eyes glint suspiciously, as if filled with tears of relief. "Shall I fetch the Healer?" You look around wonderingly. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"What happened?"' 'sheryreunite2i'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"How did we get back home?"' 'sheryreunite2i'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"How long have I been out?"' 'sheryreunite2i'>><</link>></li> </ul>

<<nobr>><<if $sheryromanceflag gte 20>> She gives you a watery, brave smile. <<else>> She plays with the ends of her sleeves anxiously. <</if>><</nobr>> "You lost consciousness, and Red had to translocate you and everyone else back home. Do… do you remember anything?" The memory swims up through the headachy fog in your skull. "We were at that temple in the Bleakmoor," you begin. "Mimir, a Seer… she had me touch an… an artifact, this thing she called a luminary. And then…" You trail off, not quite sure what to say, and for a moment, you and Shery stare at each other in silence. Finally she says softly, "After… what happened, the Healers gave you a full examination and said there was nothing physically wrong with you—you just needed rest. But you've been asleep for five days, and everyone has been so worried." You try to move the heavy blanket off of your lap and swing your legs down to the ground, but your movements are sluggish and clumsy; alarmed, Shery puts a soft hand against your <<nobr>><<if $sheryromanceflag gte 20>> arm, then snatches it back, as if burned. You notice her hair smells of sweet vanilla and soft white flowers, a dangerously light and intoxicating scent. <<else>> arm, applying a gentle but insistent strength. <</if>><</nobr>> "Let me fetch the Healer first," she blurts. "Please. You need to be seen to—and th-then we can talk about whatever you like." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "sheryreunite2ii">><</link>></center>

The Healer in question, a severe, no-nonsense woman named Elemnestra Vasilea, brings with her a blaze of light, a general bustle and flurry of brisk commotion, and overall fervor as others begin to spread the word throughout the compound that you're awake. In typical Healer fashion, she is entirely unmoved by the unusualness of your return or the circumstances that brought you into the infirmary. Instead, she issues a series of the usual sharp-tongued reprimands and complaints that the Healers of the Order are generally known for, while Shery hovers anxiously in the background. <<nobr>><<if $highestromance is "shery">> "All you needed was a bit of rest, but everyone was in such a panic," she informs you tartly, even as she fluffs up your pillow with a gentle hand. "Quartermaster Acquell didn't leave your side the entire time you've been here, except to bathe and eat whenever Captain Ironwood could force her to. I thought she was about to join you as a patient: she's been on such a hunger strike these last five days!" <br><br> "I didn't mean to make anyone worry about me," Shery murmurs, looking rather shame-faced. "I was only so worried about <<c firstname>> that I had no appetite." Elemnestra grumbles a bit, but she clearly likes the quartermaster, because she mercifully changes the subject. <<else>> "All you needed was a bit of rest, but everyone was in such a panic. Quartermaster Acquell has been checking on you every few hours, acting as your nurse herself!" Her voice is exasperated even as she fluffs up your pillow with a gentle hand. <</if>><</nobr>> "<i>She</i> wasn't disruptive, thankfully, but the others were, arguing back and forth over this Seer. If you hadn't woken up soon, I think the Commander would have had her thrown in the dungeons." "Where is Mimir?" you ask, trying to sip on a hot tonic she's shoved into your hands. <<nobr>><<if ($specialization is "healer" and $magic gte 40) and $intelligence gte 50>> <<setintelligence +1>> Your sensitive nose picks up the smells of asper and bristic: it's a potion to increase vigor, strength, and to rouse a sleeper from waking. <</if>><</nobr>> "She came back with the rest of you," Shery answers, offering you a cool, clean washcloth from a nearby basin. "None of the wards or spirits reacted to her presence, so it seems she harbors no ill intentions towards the Order…" She hesitates. "Is it…. is it really true that you found her all alone in that swamp, with no one to look after her? She's so thin, and…" She drops her eyes. "I feel so sorry for her. I've done what I can to help her—I gave her a room, new clothes, access to the baths and lots of hot tea and meals, and she seems to feel a little better. But she won't sleep inside. She says there are too many people in the halls, too many shadows and ghosts. She seems to find it… oppressive. The Commander let her set up a tent in one of the side courtyards, the one that no one uses <<nobr>><<if $cainejoin>> except for Caine and his dog. <<else>> except for Tallys when she's tending her community garden. <</if>><</nobr>> I've been trying to make sure someone checks on her out there, but it's still so cold at night…" "I think she'll be fine," you assure her. "She's been entirely comfortable in much rougher circumstances. And if she says she's happier out there, we'll have to take her at her word." Then you lower the cup of tonic, only for Elemnestra to busily shove it back up towards your mouth. "I'd like to speak to her about what happened, if I can." Shery nods eagerly. "Of course. I'll fetch her myself, as soon as you've had something to eat." However, before that can happen, there's a commotion at the door, the sounds of many voices talking at once, eliciting a <i>tsk</i> of annoyance from Elemnestra. She strides over to the door and snaps it open, only to reveal a crowd of your friends packed into the narrow hallway, arguing with Blade as he converses with the guard posted up by your door. <<nobr>><<if $troublehate is false>> Trouble shoves his way past the anxious-looking guard and says, wind-tousled and breathless, "$halfname. We heard you were awake." He smiles at Shery just as Chase slips soundlessly into the room and Briony wriggles her way through the doorway; a whole procession of people surrounds your bed then, Tallys and Riel and Red and all the others, patting your bedspread or touching your shoulder or hugging you with obvious relief. "You all right, Shery? Elemnestra said you hadn't been sleeping." <<else>> Chase slips his way past the anxious-looking guard and says smoothly, "Glad to see you're finally up, $nickname: we were beginning to worry. Shery here's been so beside herself that she hasn't slept." He shoots a querying look at Shery as a whole procession of people surrounds your bed: Ayla shoves her way into the room and Briony wriggles free of the doorway, and all the others come to pat your bedspread or touch your shoulder or hug you with obvious relief. <</if>><</nobr>> "I'm fine," Shery squeaks. Elemnestra is nearly beside herself in indignation. "We have a visitor policy for a reason," she hisses. "Eleven people crowding the patient at one time is completely unnecessary!" <<include "everyonesreunion">>

There's a thin, lithe shadow leaning over you, peering at you intently in the half-light of the room. At your startled movement, the shadow abruptly jerks back, and in doing so resolves itself into a more familiar shape: Riel, staring down at you with owlish, disgruntled eyes. "<i>Riel</i>?" you hiss, surprised to find him looming over you in such an inspecting manner. The merchant leader straightens his tie and clears his throat, smoothing away his expression of half-affronted shock into one of cool neutrality. "<<c firstname>>," he returns evenly, as if you'd run into each other on the street. "Good. I was checking to see if you were awake yet." <<nobr>><<if $rielromanceflag gte 20>> He hesitates, leaning forward as if to say something, before he draws back again, his throat working. He's full of a strange, nervous energy, his fingers drumming against the head of his walking cane. He's standing close enough that your senses are full of the scent of him, clean sharp linen and expensive cologne. <<else>> At first, he seems all business, but then his blue eyes drift hesitantly towards your face in a decidedly more awkward fashion. <</if>><</nobr>> "How are you feeling?" You look around wonderingly. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"What happened?"' 'rielreunite2i'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"How did we get back home?"' 'rielreunite2i'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"How long have I been out?"' 'rielreunite2i'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Riel sighs and seats himself primly in the armchair beside your bed, balancing his cane between his legs. "You lost consciousness, and Red was forced to translocate you and your entire party back here for treatment. What's the last thing you can remember?" The memory swims up through the headachy fog in your skull. "We were at that temple in the Bleakmoor," you begin. "Mimir, a Seer… she had me touch an… an artifact, this thing she called a luminary. And then…" You trail off, not quite sure what to say, and for a moment, you and Riel stare at each other in silence; the expression on his face is one of keen and intent interest. Finally he says, "The Healers gave you a full examination and panel of tests. They concluded that nothing was physically wrong with you—you simply needed rest. You've been asleep for five days." You try to move the heavy blanket off of your lap and swing your legs down to the ground, but your movements are sluggish and clumsy; Riel stands instantly and <<nobr>><<if $rielromanceflag gte 20>> puts out a hand, as if to stop you. His voice is unusually gentle as he says, "Wait. You need to be seen by a Healer first." He hesitates, then places his cool slim hand on your shoulder. "After that, we can talk." <<else>> makes a sharp motion with his cane, as if deter you. "Stop. You need to be seen by a Healer first." He frowns down at you, as stern and exacting as ever. "Then we can talk." <</if>><</nobr>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "rielreunite2ii">><</link>></center>

The Healer in question, a severe, no-nonsense woman named Elemnestra Vasilea, brings with her a blaze of light, a general bustle and flurry of brisk commotion, and overall fervor as others begin to spread the word throughout the compound that you're awake. In typical Healer fashion, she is entirely unmoved by the unusualness of your return or the circumstances that brought you into the infirmary. Instead, she issues a series of the usual sharp-tongued reprimands and complaints that the Healers of the Order are generally known for, while Riel hovers intently in the background. <<nobr>><<if $highestromance is "riel">> "All you needed was a bit of rest, but Master Syndran could not leave you well enough alone," she informs you tartly, even as she fluffs up your pillow with a gentle hand. "He's been in and out of your room constantly, making himself a general nuisance, threatening to bring outside Healers in for consultation and demanding that we read the latest medical textbooks… he even brings his work in here, and of course his assistant and all of those layabout recruits follow him in because they'll do anything he says!" Riel pointedly and thoroughly ignores these admonishments with chilly silence. <<else>> "All you needed was a bit of rest, but Master Syndran kept disrupting us by coming to check on you every few hours, being <i>entirely</i> meddlesome and driving my orderlies mad with his suggestions and recommended medical textbooks," she informs you tartly, even as she fluffs up your pillow with a gentle hand. Riel pointedly and thoroughly ignores these admonishments with chilly silence. <</if>><</nobr>> "And then there was all the arguing back and forth over this Seer. If you hadn't woken up soon, I think the Commander would have had her thrown in the dungeons." "Where is Mimir?" you ask, trying to sip on a hot tonic she's shoved into your hands. <<nobr>><<if ($specialization is "healer" and $magic gte 40) and $intelligence gte 50>> <<setintelligence +1>> Your sensitive nose picks up the smells of asper and bristic: it's a potion to increase vigor, strength, and to rouse a sleeper from waking. <</if>><</nobr>> "Red brought her back during the translocation," Riel answers, having been relegated to standing by the window and "being out of the way." "None of the wards or spirits reacted to her presence, so it seems she harbors no ill intentions towards the Order, but Blade is still suspicious of her—especially after what happened to you." He stares out the window for a moment, and you can just see the cogs in that vast brain of his turning silently in thought. "It's a fascinating ability she possesses, if any of it is true. The power to see into the future… though it's as much a curse as it is a boon, it seems. I tried to speak to her about it, but she wasn't interested in long-form discussion. And her facial topography borders on the truly exceptional: I've never seen anything like it. I can't extract much of meaning from it, other than the impression that her mind is both fractured but lucid. She <i>believes</i> she's telling the truth, but that says little about the veracity of her actual claims. I should like to observe her in more detail, when there's time…" "Where is she now?" you ask, knowing that if he goes down one of these runaway intellectual tangents, it will be hard to pull him back. Riel stirs. "Shery originally gave her a room on the fourth floor, but she wasn't comfortable there. Living with other people in such close quarters seems to overwhelm her senses. So now she's living in a tent in one of the unused courtyards. Outside." He grimaces slightly, as if the very thought of it is distasteful. You lower the cup of tonic, only for Elemnestra to busily shove it back up towards your mouth. "I'd like to speak to her about what happened, if I can." Riel nods briskly. "Of course. We'll send for her after you've had a chance to eat and regain your strength." However, before that can happen, there's a commotion at the door, the sounds of many voices talking at once, eliciting a <i>tsk</i> of annoyance from Elemnestra. She strides over to the door and snaps it open, only to reveal a crowd of your friends packed into the narrow hallway, arguing with Blade as he converses with the guard posted up by your door. <<nobr>><<if $troublehate is false>> Trouble shoves his way past the anxious-looking guard and says, wind-tousled and breathless, "<<c halfname>>. We heard you were awake." He shoots an annoyed look at Riel just as Chase slips soundlessly into the room and Briony wriggles her way through the doorway; a whole procession of people surrounds your bed then, Tallys and Shery and Red and all the others, patting your bedspread or touching your shoulder or hugging you with obvious relief. "You were <i>supposed</i> to send word, you know." <<else>> Chase slips his way past the anxious-looking guard and says smoothly, "Glad to see you're finally up, $nickname: we were beginning to worry. Riel here was supposed to send word that you were awake, but it seems he's intent on hogging you." He shoots a pointed look at Riel as a whole procession of people surrounds your bed: Ayla shoves her way into the room and Briony wriggles free of the doorway, and all the others come to pat your bedspread or touch your shoulder or hug you with obvious relief. <</if>><</nobr>> "I thought to give <<c firstname>> a bit of time and breathing room before the inevitable bombardment," Riel returns acidly. Elemnestra is nearly beside herself in indignation. "We have a visitor policy for a reason," she hisses. "Eleven people crowding the patient at one time is completely unnecessary!" <<include "everyonesreunion">>

There's someone pacing restlessly next to the curtained window by your bed, their hands clasped behind their back as they glare down at the floor as if it had personally affronted them. Their body vibrates with restless energy and motion as they pace, sometimes sitting on the windowsill before leaping up again in a sudden agitation. Soon enough, the shadow resolves itself into a more familiar figure: Chase. You're greeted by familiar, warm scent of amber as you whisper, "Chase?" His head swivels instantly towards you. "<<c firstname>>," he breathes, and then he lunges to your side. <<nobr>><<if $chaseromanceflag gte 30 and $chasesex is true>> He stares at you for a moment, his hands flexing helplessly at his sides, before he says in a cracked voice, "…Hi." <br><br> "Hi." You smile, and Chase lets out a stilted, half-pained laugh before he reaches down and embraces you. "How do you feel?" <<else>> He plops himself familiarly down onto your bed, almost like a cat. "You're awake—how do you feel?" <</if>><</nobr>> You look around wonderingly. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"What happened?"' 'chasereunite2i'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"How did we get back home?"' 'chasereunite2i'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"How long have I been out?"' 'chasereunite2i'>><</link>></li> </ul>

He's watching you carefully, almost thoughtfully. <<nobr>><<if $highestromance is "chase" and $chaseromanceflag gte 30>> Almost unconsciously, he's taken both of your hands and tucked them against his chest; you can feel the thin drumming of his heart there, and his green eyes are pained and unreadable as they intently scan your face. <</if>><</nobr>> "You lost consciousness, $nickname," he says quietly. "After Mimir made you touch that luminous-whatever, you… ah, you passed out, and Red had to translocate all of us back here so we could get you treatment. The Healers looked you over and said you're in ship-shape, though: just that you needed rest. You've been out for five days." You try to move the heavy blanket off of your lap and swing your legs down to the ground, but your movements are sluggish and clumsy; Chase instantly puts a quelling hand on your shoulder, pushing you back down gently. "None of that," he chides softly. "Healer first, and then we can talk." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "chasereunite2ii">><</link>></center>

The Healer in question, a severe, no-nonsense woman named Elemnestra Vasilea, brings with her a blaze of light, a general bustle and flurry of brisk commotion, and overall fervor as others begin to spread the word throughout the compound that you're awake. In typical Healer fashion, she is entirely unmoved by the unusualness of your return or the circumstances that brought you into the infirmary. Instead, she issues a series of the usual sharp-tongued reprimands and complaints that the Healers of the Order are generally known for, while Chase looks on curiously in the background. <<nobr>><<if $highestromance is "chase">> "All you needed was a bit of rest, but the thief-lord here could not leave you well enough alone," she informs you tartly, even as she fluffs up your pillow with a gentle hand. "He didn't leave your side the entire time you've been here, except to bathe and eat, which would all be well and fine if he could just sit <i>still</i>! He's been driving my orderlies up the walls with his incessant questions and need to talk, and his inability to keep his hands out of things. He can't be quiet long enough to hear himself <i>think</i>. It was <i>most</i> disruptive. I've never had such a nuisance plague the infirmary before, not even when we had that rat problem." <br><br> "I love you, too, El," Chase says lightly. The Healer completely ignores him. <<else>> "All you needed was a bit of rest, but he kept disrupting us by coming to check on you every few hours, driving my orderlies up the walls with all of his inane questions and his inability to stay out of things," she informs you tartly, even as she fluffs up your pillow with a gentle hand. Chase grins, looking more like his usual catlike self, and says, "Ah, El, admit it: I grew on you after a while." <br><br> "You did not," the Healer returns crisply. <</if>><</nobr>> "And let's not forget all of the back and forth over this Seer. If you hadn't woken up soon, <<c firstname>>, I think the Commander would have had her thrown in the dungeons." "Where is Mimir?" you ask, trying to sip on a hot tonic she's shoved into your hands. <<nobr>><<if ($specialization is "healer" and $magic gte 40) and $intelligence gte 50>> <<setintelligence +1>> Your sensitive nose picks up the smells of asper and bristic: it's a potion to increase vigor, strength, and to rouse a sleeper from waking. <</if>><</nobr>> Chase sighs and throws himself into the armchair next to your bed, his legs dangling over its side. "We brought her back with us when we translocated home," he answers. "The wards and everything never went off, so it seems she's clean of bad intentions, general scheming, that sort of thing. But she definitely knew what was going to happen at the temple—just not that it was going to knock you out like that. Still, she never seemed concerned about it and said you would wake up, so Shery gave her a room. Seems like she's taken to sleeping in a tent in one of the abandoned courtyards, though; said it's better than being around too many people and all of their future-ghosties." You lower the cup of tonic, only for Elemnestra to busily shove it back up towards your mouth. "I'd like to speak to her about what happened, if I can." Chase nods. "Sure. We can send for her once you've got a meal in you and some time to get your bearings." However, before that can happen, there's a commotion at the door, the sounds of many voices talking at once, eliciting a <i>tsk</i> of annoyance from Elemnestra. She strides over to the door and snaps it open, only to reveal a crowd of your friends packed into the narrow hallway while they argue with Blade, who's conversing with a guard posted up by your door. <<nobr>><<if $brionyhate is false>> Briony shoves her way past both Blade and the guard and says breathlessly, "<<c firstname>>! We heard you were awake!" She shoots an annoyed look at Chase just as Trouble shoulders his way in behind her and Blade strides calmly into the room; a whole procession of people surrounds your bed then, Shery and Tallys and Red and all the others, patting your bedspread or touching your shoulder or hugging you with obvious relief. "You were <i>supposed</i> to send word as soon as $she woke up, you know." <<else>> Trouble shoves his way past both Blade and the guard and says breathlessly, "<<c firstname>>! Glad to see you're awake!" He shoots an annoyed look at Chase just as Ayla shoulders her way in behind him and Blade strides calmly into the room; a whole procession of people surrounds your bed then, Shery and Tallys and Red and all the others, patting your bedspread or touching your shoulder or hugging you with obvious relief. "You were <i>supposed</i> to send word as soon as $she woke up, you know." <</if>><</nobr>> Chase shrugs lightly. "I wanted a few minutes to have <<c firstname>> all to myself. Sorry." He sounds distinctly not sorry. Elemnestra is nearly beside herself in indignation as everyone comes streaming in. "We have a visitor policy for a reason," she hisses. "Eleven people crowding the patient at one time is completely unnecessary!" <<include "everyonesreunion">>

There's a strange shape folded uncomfortably into the armchair next to your bed, long legs akimbo while the head dangles at a bent and awkward angle. The figure is <i>surrounded</i> by piles and piles of books, and it's this detail that leads you to resolve the shadow into a more familiar shape. You're greeted by the warm, familiar scent of clean pine and juniper and faintly metallic ink as you whisper, "Red?" Instantly, he jolts upward, muttering a curse as he jostles his undoubtedly-stiff neck. "<<c halfname2>>," he breathes, unfolding himself and half-hobbling to your bedside. "You're awake!" <<nobr>><<if $redromanceflag gte 25 and $highestromance is "red">> He stares down at you for a moment, as if unsure what to say, before he smiles and leans down to embrace you, burying his face in your hair. You inhale against each other for a moment before he pulls away, leaving your face tingling from the warmth of him. <<else>> He leans down to embrace you with obvious relief. <</if>><</nobr>> "How do you feel?" You look around wonderingly. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"What happened?"' 'redreunite2i'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"How did we get back home?"' 'redreunite2i'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"How long have I been out?"' 'redreunite2i'>><</link>></li> </ul>

He sits down next to your bed and touches your hand, a careful expression on his face, as if you're so fragile he's afraid you might break. "You lost consciousness," he says quietly. "After Mimir had you touch the luminary. I translocated us back here so we could get you treatment, but the Healers said you were physically fine: just that you needed rest. You've been out for five days." You try to move the heavy blanket off of your lap and swing your legs down to the ground, but your movements are sluggish and clumsy; Red puts a warm, gentle hand on your shoulder, pushing you back down with a firmer insistence than you might have expected. "Take it easy," he cautions. "I think we'd better summon the Healer first, and then we can talk." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "redreunite2ii">><</link>></center>

The Healer in question, a severe, no-nonsense woman named Elemnestra Vasilea, brings with her a blaze of light, a general bustle and flurry of brisk commotion, and overall fervor as others begin to spread the word throughout the compound that you're awake. In typical Healer fashion, she is entirely unmoved by the unusualness of your return or the circumstances that brought you into the infirmary. Instead, she issues a series of the usual sharp-tongued reprimands and complaints that the Healers of the Order are generally known for, while Red cools his heels in the background. <<nobr>><<if $highestromance is "red">> "All you needed was a bit of rest, but the Archmage here could not leave you well enough alone," she informs you tartly, even as she fluffs up your pillow with a gentle hand. "He didn't leave your side the entire time you've been here, except to bathe and eat, which would all be well and fine if he wasn't insisting on dragging an entire <i>library</i> into the room! He's been driving my orderlies up the walls by clogging up the walkways with his dusty tomes, tearing through pages and muttering to himself like a madman. It was <i>most</i> disruptive. This is not your personal research lab!" <br><br> Red offers you a sheepish grin from over her shoulder. "I was trying to research things that might help you," he says quietly, sounding chagrined. Elemnestra rolls her eyes, clearly unimpressed with him. <<else>> "All you needed was a bit of rest, but he kept disrupting us by coming to check on you every few hours, driving my orderlies up the walls with his insistence on dragging in more books every time he came in," she informs you tartly, even as she fluffs up your pillow with a gentle hand. "Really, can't you sit still without having to read a dozen tomes at once?" <br><br> "I'm sorry," Red says sheepishly. Elemnestra huffs, clearly unimpressed. <</if>><</nobr>> "And let's not forget all of the back and forth over this Seer. If you hadn't woken up soon, <<c firstname>>, I think the Commander would have had her thrown in the dungeons." "Where is Mimir?" you ask, trying to sip on a hot tonic she's shoved into your hands. <<nobr>><<if ($specialization is "healer" and $magic gte 40) and $intelligence gte 50>> <<setintelligence +1>> Your sensitive nose picks up the smells of asper and bristic: it's a potion to increase vigor, strength, and to rouse a sleeper from waking. <</if>><</nobr>> "I brought her with us during the translocation," Red answers, folding his arms and leaning against the wall next to your bed. "That was a bit of a scary time, because you know how tricky group translocation is—and I was worried she wasn't registering my instructions completely. But it went fine: we arrived here with our body parts and limbs all intact." He falls quiet for a moment. "The wards and spirits accepted her without issue, so it doesn't seem like we have anything to worry about where Mimir is concerned. She knew what was going to happen at the temple, though not that it was going to knock you out; still, she never seemed unduly concerned and was confident that you would wake up fine. So Shery gave her a room on the fourth floor, but I heard she's sleeping in a tent in one of the unused courtyards instead. I imagine that being forced into such close quarters with people is likely to overwhelm her psychic senses, so it seems she's more comfortable outside." You lower the cup of tonic, only for Elemnestra to busily shove it back up towards your mouth. "I'd like to speak to her about what happened, if I can." Red nods. "Of course. I can go and find her once you've had something to eat and time to regain some strength." However, before that can happen, there's a commotion at the door, the sounds of many voices talking at once, eliciting a <i>tsk</i> of annoyance from Elemnestra. She strides over to the door and snaps it open, only to reveal a crowd of your friends packed into the narrow hallway while they argue with Blade, who's conversing with a guard posted up by your door. <<nobr>><<if $brionyhate is false>> Briony shoves her way past both Blade and the guard and says breathlessly, "<<c firstname>>! We heard you were awake!" She shoots a scolding look at Red just as Trouble shoulders his way in behind her and Riel strides calmly into the room; a whole procession of people surrounds your bed then, Shery and Tallys and Blade and all the others, patting your bedspread or touching your shoulder or hugging you with obvious relief. "Red, what happened? You were supposed to send word as soon as $she woke up!" <<else>> Trouble shoves his way past both Blade and the guard and says breathlessly, "<<c firstname>>! Glad to see you're awake!" He shoots a mild scowl at Red just as Ayla shoulders her way in behind him and Blade strides calmly into the room; a whole procession of people surrounds your bed then, Shery and Tallys and Riel and all the others, patting your bedspread or touching your shoulder or hugging you with obvious relief. "You were <i>supposed</i> to send word as soon as $she woke up, you know." <</if>><</nobr>> "Sorry," Red says, sounding chagrined. "I meant to in a few minutes—I just wanted to be sure $she had $her bearings first." Elemnestra is nearly beside herself in indignation as everyone comes streaming in. "We have a visitor policy for a reason," she hisses. "Eleven people crowding the patient at one time is completely unnecessary!" <<include "everyonesreunion">>

There's a dull, heavy weight on the side of your thigh and a strange shape resting on the side of your bed: it's a person, half-seated on the edge of an armchair while they rest their head and arms against your bedspread. Although they seem completely passed out and their face is buried in their arms, you quickly recognize the heavy braid of hair resting on the blanket beside you and the warm, sharp scents of ginger and spice. You whisper cautiously, "Ayla?" Immediately, silently, the figure jolts up, nearly whipping you in the face with her braid. "<i><<c firstname>></i>?" she asks in a bleary, cracked voice, sounding almost incredulously. She stares wildly in the half-dark for a moment until her amber eyes find yours; then she lunges forward and wraps her wiry, muscular arm around your neck, hauling you forward in a fierce hug. "You <i>idiot</i>," she whispers,<<nobr>><<if $aylaromanceflag gte 20 and $highestromance is "ayla">> pressing her cheek against yours. This close, her clothes smell of sunlight and home. She releases you roughly and swipes at her eyes. <<else>> releasing you after a moment with a ferocious scowl. <</if>><</nobr>> "You scared the <i>shit</i> out of me." You look around wonderingly. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"What happened?"' 'aylareunite2i'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"How did we get back home?"' 'aylareunite2i'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"How long have I been out?"' 'aylareunite2i'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Ayla sits back down in her armchair, observing you intently. "What's the last thing you remember?" she asks you. The memory swims up through the headachy fog in your skull. "We were at that temple," you begin. "Mimir had me touch that… that artifact, the thing she called a luminary. And then…" Ayla sighs, curling her legs under herself as she makes herself more comfortable. "You lost consciousness," she tells you, sounding slightly awkward, as if not sure what she should say. "Red had to translocate the lot of you back here so they could get you treatment. The Healers took a look at you and said you were perfectly fine: you just needed rest. You've been conked out for five days." You try to move the heavy blanket off of your lap and swing your legs down to the ground, but your movements are sluggish and clumsy; Ayla leaps up in alarm and hisses, "<i>Ay</i>, are you crazy?" She puts a strong hand on your shoulder and pushes you back down. "You stay there," she growls, scowling down at you with a thunderous expression. "I'm getting the Healer. Talk comes after." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "aylareunite2ii">><</link>></center>

The Healer in question, a severe, no-nonsense woman named Elemnestra Vasilea, brings with her a blaze of light, a general bustle and flurry of brisk commotion, and overall fervor as others begin to spread the word throughout the compound that you're awake. In typical Healer fashion, she is entirely unmoved by the unusualness of your return or the circumstances that brought you into the infirmary. Instead, she issues a series of the usual sharp-tongued reprimands and complaints that the Healers of the Order are generally known for, while Ayla paces restlessly in the background. <<nobr>><<if $highestromance is "ayla">> "All you needed was a bit of rest, but Captain Aescar here could not leave you well enough alone," she informs you tartly, even as she fluffs up your pillow with a gentle hand. "She didn't leave your side the entire time you've been here, except to bathe and eat, which was <i>most</i> disruptive! And she insisted on watching over you during the night shifts—I caught her several times sleeping with her head on your bed, and once even lying in the bed with you!" <br><br> "It's a big bed," Ayla grouses. "I got sick of sleeping in the chair." <br><br> "You didn't need to sleep in here at all!" Elemnestra snaps back. To this, Ayla only returns a sullen silence. <<else>> "All you needed was a bit of rest, but Captain Aescar kept disrupting us by coming to check on you every few hours, which would inevitably end with her growing bored and falling asleep on your bed!" She <i>tsks</i>, clearly unimpressed by this behavior. <</if>><</nobr>> "And let's not forget all of the back and forth over this Seer. If you hadn't woken up soon, <<c firstname>>, I think the Commander would have had her thrown in the dungeons." "Where is Mimir?" you ask, trying to sip on a hot tonic she's shoved into your hands. <<nobr>><<if ($specialization is "healer" and $magic gte 40) and $intelligence gte 50>> <<setintelligence +1>> Your sensitive nose picks up the smells of asper and bristic: it's a potion to increase vigor, strength, and to rouse a sleeper from waking. <</if>><</nobr>> "Red brought her back during the translocation," Ayla answers, throwing herself in the armchair again and setting her feet up on your bed. "She's a bit mad, isn't she? I mean, nice enough, but nothing she says makes a lick of sense." She shrugs. "Anyway, the spirits and things didn't have a problem with her, so it's not like she's a spy or an enemy or anything. Shery gave her a room, but I heard she's sleeping in a tent in one of the out-of-the-way yards instead. Something about being around too many people clutters her head, or something." You lower the cup of tonic, only for Elemnestra to busily shove it back up towards your mouth. "I'd like to speak to her about what happened, if I can." Ayla nods. "Sure, makes sense. I can go get her once you've had something to eat." However, before that can happen, there's a commotion at the door, the sounds of many voices talking at once, eliciting a <i>tsk</i> of annoyance from Elemnestra. She strides over to the door and snaps it open, only to reveal a crowd of your friends packed into the narrow hallway while they argue with Blade, who's conversing with a guard posted up by your door. <<nobr>><<if $brionyhate is false>> Briony shoves her way past both Blade and the guard and says breathlessly, "<<c firstname>>! We heard you were awake!" She shoots a scolding look at Ayla just as Trouble shoulders his way in behind her and Riel strides calmly into the room; a whole procession of people surrounds your bed then, Shery and Tallys and Red and all the others, patting your bedspread or touching your shoulder or hugging you with obvious relief. "Ayla, what happened? You were supposed to send word as soon as $she woke up!" <<else>> Trouble shoves his way past both Blade and the guard and says breathlessly, "<<c firstname>>! Glad to see you're awake!" He shoots a mild scowl at Ayla just as Chase slips soundlessly in behind him and Blade strides calmly into the room; a whole procession of people surrounds your bed then, Shery and Tallys and Riel and all the others, patting your bedspread or touching your shoulder or hugging you with obvious relief. "You were <i>supposed</i> to send word as soon as $she woke up, you know." <</if>><</nobr>> Ayla scowls back. "What am I, a courier? I wanted to give ${them} a few minutes to <i>breathe</i> before everyone came crashing in." Elemnestra is nearly beside herself in indignation as everyone comes streaming in. "We have a visitor policy for a reason," she hisses. "Eleven people crowding the patient at one time is completely unnecessary!" <<include "everyonesreunion">>

There's a dull, heavy weight on the side of your thigh and a strange shape resting on the side of your bed: it's a person, half-seated on the edge of an armchair while their head and arms loll across your bedspread. Although they seem completely passed out and their face is buried and hidden in their arms, you quickly recognize the red ribbon in their ponytail and the scent of peach blossoms and sun-warmed citrus. You whisper cautiously, "Briony?" The figure jolts up with a girlish snort, surprised out of a dead slumber. "<<c firstname>>?" she asks blearily, winding her fist back as if to cold-clock an intruder. "What are you…?" Then her violet eyes meet yours in the half-dark, and her mouth drops open. "You're awake!" she cries, hurtling forward to enfold you in a fierce hug. <<nobr>><<if $brionyromanceflag gte 15 and $highestromance is "briony">> Her soft pink hair tickles your face as she embraces you tightly, and her cheek feels suspiciously damp as she says in a choked voice, "You have to stop <i>doing</i> this—I've been so <i>worried</i>!" <<else>> "I'm so glad you're all right—we were all scared half to death—" <</if>><</nobr>> She pulls back and wipes at her eyes. "How are you feeling? Do you need anything?" You look around wonderingly. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"What happened?"' 'brionyreunite2i'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"How did we get back home?"' 'brionyreunite2i'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"How long have I been out?"' 'brionyreunite2i'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Briony's expression snaps into one of slight panic, as if she hadn't thought about what to say, but she says steadily enough: "What's the last thing you remember?" The memory swims up through the headachy fog in your skull. "We were at that temple in the Bleakmoor," you begin. "The Seer, Mimir, had me touch an… an artifact, the thing she called a luminary. And then…" Briony sighs, sitting back down and curling her warm hand over yours. "Well, you lost consciousness," she tells you earnestly. "Red had to translocate all of you back home so you could get treatment. The Healers did a whole panel of tests on you, but they said you were physically fine—you just needed to rest. You've been asleep for five days." You try to move the heavy blanket off of your lap and swing your legs down to the ground, but your movements are sluggish and clumsy; Briony puts a quelling hand on your shoulder, tutting busily as she pulls the blanket up to your chin. "None of that," she scolds gently. "Let me get the Healer, and then we can talk after." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "brionyreunite2ii">><</link>></center>

The Healer in question, a severe, no-nonsense woman named Elemnestra Vasilea, brings with her a blaze of light, a general bustle and flurry of brisk commotion, and overall fervor as others begin to spread the word throughout the compound that you're awake. In typical Healer fashion, she is entirely unmoved by the unusualness of your return or the circumstances that brought you into the infirmary. Instead, she issues a series of the usual sharp-tongued reprimands and complaints that the Healers of the Order are generally known for, while Briony fidgets restlessly in the background. <<nobr>><<if $highestromance is "briony">> "All you needed was a bit of rest, but Captain Stormbreaker here could not leave you well enough alone," she informs you tartly, even as she fluffs up your pillow with a gentle hand. "She didn't leave your side the entire time you've been here, except to bathe and eat, and she wouldn't even sleep in her own room! I even caught her several times falling asleep with her head on your bed!" <br><br> "It was an accident," Briony protests, blushing. "And I wanted to be on-hand in case <<c firstname>> needed me." <br><br> "As if $she didn't already have an entire wing of Healers at $her back and call," Elemnestra returns sarcastically. At this, Briony only colors further and shrugs at you helplessly. <<else>> "All you needed was a bit of rest, but Captain Stormbreaker kept disrupting us by coming to check on you every few hours, always asking questions about what spells we were using and how she could help. She was trying to be helpful, but it was <i>most</i> disruptive." <br><br> Briony's mouth drops open in shock. "You should have said something!" she protests. <br><br> "I <i>did</i>," Elemnestra returns acidly. "I would say, 'I think <<c firstname>> needs peace and quiet to rest,' and you would respond by closing all the curtains and going to sleep next to $them rather than leaving." <br><br> "Oh," Briony says in a faint voice. <br><br> The Healer rolls her eyes. <</if>><</nobr>> "And let's not forget all of the back and forth over this Seer. If you hadn't woken up soon, <<c firstname>>, I think the Commander would have had her thrown in the dungeons." "Where is Mimir?" you ask, trying to sip on a hot tonic she's shoved into your hands. <<nobr>><<if ($specialization is "healer" and $magic gte 40) and $intelligence gte 50>> <<setintelligence +1>> Your sensitive nose picks up the smells of asper and bristic: it's a potion to increase vigor, strength, and to rouse a sleeper from waking. <</if>><</nobr>> "Red brought her back during the translocation," Briony answers, handing you a cool, clean washcloth from a nearby basin. "Poor thing, she seems so frail and helpless, but the boys were stinking mad at her for making you touch that beacon. But the wards and the spirits didn't react to her, so it's not like she's a <i>threat</i>. Shery gave her a room, but it seems she's taken to sleeping in a tent in one of the unused courtyards outside. Something about too many people cluttering her mind with too many visions. I've never heard of such a power, have you?" You shake your head and lower the cup of tonic, only for Elemnestra to busily shove it back up towards your mouth. "I'd like to speak to her about what happened, if I can." Briony nods eagerly. "Of course. I can find her after you've had a bite of something to eat." However, before that can happen, there's a commotion at the door, the sounds of many voices talking at once, eliciting a <i>tsk</i> of annoyance from Elemnestra. She strides over to the door and snaps it open, only to reveal a crowd of your friends packed into the narrow hallway while they argue with Blade, who's conversing with a guard posted up by your door. <<nobr>><<if $troublehate is false>> Trouble shoves his way past both Blade and the guard and says breathlessly, "<<c firstname>>! Glad to see you're awake!" He shoots a mild scowl at Briony just as Chase slips soundlessly in behind him and Blade strides calmly into the room; a whole procession of people surrounds your bed then, Shery and Tallys and Riel and all the others, patting your bedspread or touching your shoulder or hugging you with obvious relief. "What happened? I thought you were going to send word as soon as ${she} woke up?" <<else>> Red pushes his way into the room and says breathlessly, "<<c firstname>>! Thank the gods you're awake." He looks quizzically at Briony just as Chase slips soundlessly in behind him and Blade strides calmly into the room; a whole procession of people surrounds your bed then, Shery and Tallys and Riel and all the others, patting your bedspread or touching your shoulder or hugging you with obvious relief. "I thought you were going to send word as soon as ${she} woke up?" <</if>><</nobr>> Instead of responding guiltily, as you might have expected, Briony raises her chin with a hint of defiance. "It's only been a few moments. I wanted to give $them a bit of breathing room before I let the whole circus come crashing in!" Elemnestra is nearly beside herself in indignation as everyone comes streaming in. "We have a visitor policy for a reason," she hisses. "Eleven people crowding the patient at one time is completely unnecessary!" <<include "everyonesreunion">>

There's a strange shape folded uncomfortably into the armchair next to your bed, long legs akimbo while the head dangles at a bent and awkward angle. You recognize the glint of snow-white hair and the familiar scents of winterspear and pine, and you whisper cautiously, "Halek?" Instantly, he jolts upward, muttering a curse as he jostles his undoubtedly-stiff neck. "<<c firstname>>," he says, cracking his eye open and regarding you as he unwinds himself from his slumped position. "Glad to see you finally awake." He stretches, cracking his back, before he straightens to his full height—looming almost alarmingly over you—and peers intently into your face. "How do you feel?" You look around wonderingly. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"What happened?"' 'halekreunite2i'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"How did we get back home?"' 'halekreunite2i'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"How long have I been out?"' 'halekreunite2i'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Halek stretches again with a groan, then sits down familiarly on your bed. His tone, however, is careful as he says, "What's the last thing you remember?" The memory swims up through the headachy fog in your skull. "We were at that temple in the Bleakmoor," you begin. "The Seer, Mimir, had me touch an… an artifact, the thing she called a luminary. And then…" You trail off, and you and Halek sit in silence for a moment as he stares forward at the wall, waiting patiently for you to continue. When you don't, he says quietly, "You lost consciousness, so Red had to translocate you and everyone else back here for treatment. The Healers said you're physically fine: just that you needed to rest. You've been out for five days." You try to move the heavy blanket off of your lap and swing your legs down to the ground, but your movements are sluggish and clumsy; Halek watches you sidelong for a moment, then rises and says lightly, "I think I'll be flayed alive if I let you start walking around, so I'm going to fetch the Healer. We can talk more after that." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "halekreunite2ii">><</link>></center>

The Healer in question, a severe, no-nonsense woman named Elemnestra Vasilea, brings with her a blaze of light, a general bustle and flurry of brisk commotion, and overall fervor as others begin to spread the word throughout the compound that you're awake. In typical Healer fashion, she is entirely unmoved by the unusualness of your return or the circumstances that brought you into the infirmary. Instead, she issues a series of the usual sharp-tongued reprimands and complaints that the Healers of the Order are generally known for, while Halek cools his heels in the background. "All you needed was a bit of rest, but the <i>sol</i> here kept disrupting us by checking on you every few hours," she informs you tartly, even as she fluffs up your pillow with a gentle hand. "He would hover over you for a few minutes, then inevitably grow bored and fall asleep! I half think he was using this place as a place to take a nap!" "Not true," Halek rebuts. "I was sincerely concerned for <<c firstname>>'s health and wellbeing. There just isn't anything else to do in here." "It's an <i>infirmary</i>, not a playhouse!" She tuts, clearly unimpressed. "And let's not forget all of the back and forth over this Seer. If you hadn't woken up soon, <<c firstname>>, I think the Commander would have had her thrown in the dungeons." "Where is Mimir?" you ask, trying to sip on a hot tonic she's shoved into your hands. <<nobr>><<if ($specialization is "healer" and $magic gte 40) and $intelligence gte 50>> <<setintelligence +1>> Your sensitive nose picks up the smells of asper and bristic: it's a potion to increase vigor, strength, and to rouse a sleeper from waking. <</if>><</nobr>> Halek pulls a rare face of dislike. "Red brought her back with you when he translocated," he answers, folding his arms and leaning against the wall next to your bed. "None of the spirits or wards went off for her, so it seems she can be trusted. So Shery gave her a room on the fourth floor, but I've heard she's taken to sleeping in a tent in one of the unused courtyards outside. Something about being around too many people is upsetting for her—something to do with her so-called powers, I guess." "You don't believe her?" you ask him. Halek makes a faint grunt. "It's not about whether I believe her or not. I just find anything to do with prophecies—and prophet-issuers—unpleasant. I avoid them at all costs, if I can." You lower the cup of tonic, only for Elemnestra to busily shove it back up towards your mouth. "I'd like to speak to her about what happened." Halek nods. "I suppose that makes sense. We can send someone to fetch her once you've had something to eat." However, before that can happen, there's a commotion at the door, the sounds of many voices talking at once, eliciting a <i>tsk</i> of annoyance from Elemnestra. She strides over to the door and snaps it open, only to reveal a crowd of your friends packed into the narrow hallway while they argue with Blade, who's conversing with a guard posted up by your door. <<nobr>><<if $brionyhate is false>> Briony shoves her way past both Blade and the guard and says breathlessly, "<<c firstname>>! We heard you were awake!" She shoots a scolding look at Halek just as Trouble shoulders his way in behind her and Riel strides calmly into the room; a whole procession of people surrounds your bed then, Shery and Tallys and Red and all the others, patting your bedspread or touching your shoulder or hugging you with obvious relief. "Halek, what happened? You were supposed to send word as soon as $she woke up!" <<else>> Trouble shoves his way past both Blade and the guard and says breathlessly, "<<c firstname>>! Glad to see you're awake!" He shoots a mild scowl at Halek just as Ayla shoulders her way in behind him and Blade strides calmly into the room; a whole procession of people surrounds your bed then, Shery and Tallys and Riel and all the others, patting your bedspread or touching your shoulder or hugging you with obvious relief. "You were <i>supposed</i> to send word as soon as $she woke up, you know." <</if>><</nobr>> Halek shrugs languidly. "What difference does a few minutes make?" he returns. Elemnestra is nearly beside herself in indignation as everyone comes streaming in. "We have a visitor policy for a reason," she hisses. "Eleven people crowding the patient at one time is completely unnecessary!" <<include "everyonesreunion">>

There's a strange, fluttering shadow to the right of you, and for an alarming moment, you almost think you're looking at the vibrating wing of some giant insectoid. But then you catch the familiar scent of rose-and-bergamot perfume and powdery, expensive maquillage, and the shadow resolves itself into a more familiar shape: Lavinet, sitting in an armchair and fanning herself with her handheld fan while she frowns down at a paper in her other hand. At your slight movement, her wine-colored eyes instantly snap up and meet yours in the half-dark. "<<c firstname>>!" she exclaims, sitting up alertly and tucking the paper away into her skirts. She shuts her fan with an expert snap of her wrist, <<nobr>><<if $lavinetromanceflag gte 15>> leaning forward to press lipsticked kisses against both of your cheeks like you're celebrities meeting at a gala. <<else>> leaning forward to press your hands lightly with her gloved ones, in a gesture of both worry and friendship. <</if>><</nobr>> "How are you, darling? How do you feel? We've been worried sick about you…" You look around wonderingly. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"What happened?"' 'lavinetreunite2i'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"How did we get back home?"' 'lavinetreunite2i'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"How long have I been out?"' 'lavinetreunite2i'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Lavinet draws back and looks into your face with some measure of sympathy and compassion. "What do you remember?" she asks gently. The memory swims up through the headachy fog in your skull. "We were at that temple in the Bleakmoor," you begin. "The Seer, Mimir, had me touch an… an artifact, the thing she called a luminary. And then…" Lavinet sighs, sitting back down on her armchair; her fan opens languidly again and moves into a position that you've come to recognize as something like <i>I Must Take Care With My Language</i>. "Well, you lost consciousness," she tells you quietly. "And Red was forced to translocate you back home so you could seek treatment. The Healers examined you, and found nothing physically amiss—they said you simply needed to rest. You've been asleep for five days." You try to move the heavy blanket off of your lap and swing your legs down to the ground, but your movements are sluggish and clumsy; Lavinet puts a quelling hand on your shoulder, <<nobr>><<if $lavinetromanceflag gte 15>> her long hair falling over her shoulder and caressing your face with a cloud of heady, intoxicating perfume. <<else>> frowning lightly now. <</if>><</nobr>> "Darling, don't be silly," she chides, pressing you back down against your pillows. "I am going to fetch the Healer first, and then we can talk all you like." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "lavinetreunite2ii">><</link>></center>

The Healer in question, a severe, no-nonsense woman named Elemnestra Vasilea, brings with her a blaze of light, a general bustle and flurry of brisk commotion, and overall fervor as others begin to spread the word throughout the compound that you're awake. In typical Healer fashion, she is entirely unmoved by the unusualness of your return or the circumstances that brought you into the infirmary. Instead, she issues a series of the usual sharp-tongued reprimands and complaints that the Healers of the Order are generally known for, while Lavinet watches archly from the background. <<nobr>><<if $highestromance is "lavinet">> "All you needed was a bit of rest, but Lady Naveen here could not leave you well enough alone," she informs you tartly, even as she fluffs up your pillow with a gentle hand. "She didn't leave your side the entire time you've been here, except to bathe and eat, and she even brought her mail in to read at your bedside! You'd have thought you were an invalid with how devotedly she stayed at your side!" <br><br> Lavinet laughs lightly, and a little dismissive flutter goes through her fan. "Now, Elemnestra, you exaggerate. I was merely concerned about the health and wellbeing of a trusted comrade." <br><br> Elemnestra raises her eyebrows at you, but she clearly likes Lavinet, because she simply says, "As you say, my lady." To you, she continues: "At least she wasn't disruptive: the others were. <<else>> "All you needed was a bit of rest, but Lady Naveen here insisted on coming to check on your status every few hours, sometimes foregoing meals in order to watch over you! She was in quite a fret over your state!" <br><br> "Of course I was," Lavinet returns with a little laugh. "Who could not be worried about the health and wellbeing of a dear friend?" <br><br> "Well," Elemnestra says. "She wasn't disruptive, but the others were. <</if>><</nobr>> There was no much back and forth over this Seer. If you hadn't woken up soon, <<c firstname>>, I think the Commander would have had her thrown in the dungeons." "Where is Mimir?" you ask, trying to sip on a hot tonic she's shoved into your hands. <<nobr>><<if ($specialization is "healer" and $magic gte 40) and $intelligence gte 50>> <<setintelligence +1>> Your sensitive nose picks up the smells of asper and bristic: it's a potion to increase vigor, strength, and to rouse a sleeper from waking. <</if>><</nobr>> "The Seer? Red brought her back during the translocation," Lavinet answers, watching as Elemnestra hands you a cool, clean washcloth from a nearby basin. "Poor thing, she was in a frightful state when they arrived here. So thin, and in such tattered clothes! Is it really true that you found her all alone in that swamp, with no one to look after her?" She shakes her head. "Well, the Commander was terribly angry with her after what happened to you, but she was very confident that you would wake up sane and sound. And since the wards protecting this place cleared her, there wasn't much choice but to give her a room on the fourth floor. Poor dear—I think she's quite uncomfortable being near so many people. She's taken to sleeping in a tent in one of the unused courtyards. Something about too many visions inside these walls clouding her mind." You lower the cup of tonic, only for Elemnestra to busily shove it back up towards your mouth. "I'd like to speak to her about what happened, if I can." Lavinet dips her head in acknowledgment. "Of course. I'm sure we can send someone for her once you've had something to eat." However, before that can happen, there's a commotion at the door, the sounds of many voices talking at once, eliciting a <i>tsk</i> of annoyance from Elemnestra. She strides over to the door and snaps it open, only to reveal a crowd of your friends packed into the narrow hallway while they argue with Blade, who's conversing with a guard posted up by your door. <<nobr>><<if $troublehate is false>> Trouble shoves his way past both Blade and the guard and says breathlessly, "<<c firstname>>! Glad to see you're awake!" He shoots a mild scowl at Lavinet just as Chase slips soundlessly in behind him and Riel strides calmly into the room; a whole procession of people surrounds your bed then, Shery and Tallys and Red and all the others, patting your bedspread or touching your shoulder or hugging you with obvious relief. "What happened? I thought you were going to send word as soon as $she woke up?" <<else>> Red pushes his way into the room and says breathlessly, "<<c firstname>>! Thank the gods you're awake." He looks quizzically at Briony just as Chase slips soundlessly in behind him and Blade strides calmly into the room; a whole procession of people surrounds your bed then, Shery and Tallys and Riel and all the others, patting your bedspread or touching your shoulder or hugging you with obvious relief. "What happened? I thought you were going to send word as soon as $she woke up?" <</if>><</nobr>> Lavinet's nostrils flare slightly, and her fan rises to cover her mouth in an imperious expression. "If you wanted to be here as soon as <<c firstname>> woke up, perhaps you should have waited here in person," she answers regally. Elemnestra is nearly beside herself in indignation as everyone comes streaming in. "We have a visitor policy for a reason," she hisses. "Eleven people crowding the patient at one time is completely unnecessary!" <<include "everyonesreunion">>

The others explain it to you while you sit there and try to process what's going on. Apparently, while you were conversing with the voice, it was answering you through the luminary… and your conversation was perfectly audible to everyone else in the room. Then, eventually, the luminary went dark, you collapsed, and they translocated you back here. <<nobr>><<if $shepherdsknow is false>> Talking to Mimir, apparently, filled them in on the rest of the missing details, though she wasn't aware that they didn't already know much of your story. <</if>><</nobr>> "And… what did you make of all of it?" you ask, looking at the ones who were present with you at the temple—Chase, Red, Blade, and Trouble, though it seems the matter has been discussed between all the members of the inner circle in the five days you've been unconscious. <<nobr>><<if $shepherdsknow is true>> "Well, can't say it came as a <i>total</i> surprise," Trouble says quietly, rubbing the back of his neck. "It all lined up with what you'd told us before, back when you'd had that nightmare last fall, and everything you said about the—the Words of Power, and what happened to your village, and all that." <br><br> "I'm only glad that you told us all of it beforehand," Tallys murmurs. "This would all be far more unsettling if we didn't come into it prepared." <br><br> "We had been searching for signs or texts of what your powers could mean, ever since you told us," Shery says softly, glancing at the Elf, who nods affirmatively, "but it was such an unusual thing that we didn't know exactly where to start. There wasn't anything like it in any history that we could find. And while we've since confirmed that 'kithma' <i>is</i> an existing term in the old myths and legends, no recorded kithma ever displayed your particular abilities or powers. Which I suppose makes sense, considering they were mortal champions who were granted specific gifts and boons as adults, whereas you seem to be… a more special case." <br><br> "<i>If</i> we can believe anything the voice said," Riel cuts in. <br><br> <<include "opinions8on">> <<else>> The room is heavy with a ponderous, ominous silence for a moment. The others shift uncomfortably or glance at each other, and you get the cringing feeling of having been the subject of their conversations, of being scrutinized and discussed and analyzed thoroughly. Finally Blade says, his tone carefully neutral: "Certain aspects of the matter seemed to line up. Your propensity for stumbling across the Faceless Lords and being able to destroy them, for one thing. Your mysterious origins, for another." <br><br> You feel the sharp sting of embarrassment and vulnerability, then. You feel exposed, like an armored insect stripped of its carapace: everything you held secret within yourself has now been held up to the light. <<if $education is "Circle-trained">> <br><br> "I'm so sorry, <<c halfname2>>," Red says quietly, putting his hand on yours. "I knew you'd lost your family the day the demons returned, but… there was so much more to the story. I had no idea." <</if>> <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'React angrily. "So now you all know. Don\'t tell me you\'re going to start treating me like a freak?"' 'react8angrily'>><<fair_plus "$compassionate" -10>><<setloyal -5>><<fair_plus "$charisma" -10>><<if (($education is "Circle-trained" and $red gte 60) or ($education is "Circle-trained" and $redromanceflag gte 10)) or $redrelationship is "ex">><<fair_plus "$red" -10>><<set $redromanceflag -= 5>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'React defensively. "I never said anything about it because I didn\'t want to. I never owed anyone anything."' 'react8defensively'>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setcourage -3>><<fair_plus "$loyal" -10>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'React apologetically. "I\'m sorry I never told you. There were times where I wanted to, but... it was just too painful."' 'react8apologetically'>><<setcharisma +2>><<setloyal +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Say nothing.' 'ayla8stirs'>><<setcharisma -3>><</link>></li> </ul> <</if>><</nobr>>

Red blinks, caught off-guard. "No, of course we don't think that," he says, looking around at the others, who nod. "We just—I mean, we're sorry that it happened. And we're sorry that you had to deal with it alone. It must have been a heavy burden to carry." <<include "ayla8stirs">>

"No one's saying that," Chase murmurs, his eyes hooded and his arms crossed. "We just feel sorry that you went through it, <<c nickname>>. It sounds like a heavy burden to bear." <<include "ayla8stirs">>

Tallys places a hand on your shoulder. "I understand how you feel," she says. "More than most. But sooner or later, it had to come out, the way poison has to be lanced from a wound. Only then can you truly begin to heal." <<include "ayla8stirs">>

Ayla stirs. "It makes sense why you didn't tell anyone," she says, coming to your defense, perfunctory and blunt as ever. "I wouldn't have. Hearing voices in your head, having some kind of strange power that you didn't understand? You must have been scared shitless. And now it turns out that it's the work of gods, or the One-God, or whatever, and it's up to <i>you</i> to save the whole world. I don't envy your position, and I don't blame you for hiding it." "<i>If</i> we can believe anything the voice said," Riel cuts in. <<include "opinions8on">>

Opinions on that matter are divided. Several people—Trouble, Tallys, Shery, and Briony—take what happened at face value: they readily believe that you made contact with a dying god, though each chooses to interpret the actual deity or deities differently. They also freely accept that you were blessed with the Words of Power to defeat the vessel, this "dark herald" of Tapyt, and eliminate the threat of the Endarkened once and for all. "Well, it's not as if you haven't already performed any shortage of miracles since you joined the Shepherds," Briony points out kindly. "We're always joking about how you always seem to have a role to play in these big events—how you always happen to be in the right place at the right time, like the hero of some great story—and how you're capable of defeating demons and swaying people to our cause when no one else could hope to. Pair that with the Words of Power, and how you got them, and it makes total sense." Others are less sure, or simply don't know what to think: Chase, Lavinet, Halek, and Ayla fall among them. "Look, I'm not denying that <<c firstname>> is special," Chase says, slouching against the wall with his hands in his pockets. "It's whether it has anything to do with a <i>deity</i> that I have truck with. I'd rather attribute it to <<c firstname>>'s abilities than believe $she<<nobr>><<if $plural is true>>'re<<else>>'s<</if>><</nobr>> only special because a god made $them that way. And also, you'd think if they'd run through this scenario before, they'd be a little better at it… or would have been more helpful about where or how we can find this vessel." "Right, I'm having trouble wrapping my mind around this whole 'resetting the world' thing," Ayla muses. "Doesn't really make much sense, does it? And they shrouded it in a lot of <span class="entrylink"><span class="entrylink-tooltip">Jalis slang for improbably and dubiously fantastical; theoretical or impractical to the point of being silly or harebrained.</span><i>lulee</i></span> language." "Well, perhaps they've tried revealing too many details before, and it made things go awry," Halek suggests. "They did sound overly cautious of that: who knows how many permutations they've tried before? Perhaps too much foreknowledge ruins things. That's why prophecies are always so vague, after all. People try to fulfill them to the letter and it ends up mucking things up." He shrugs, thinking on it further. "And they did say they were weak and tired, and could only contact and perceive our realm through dreams. They're probably all… jumbled up, what with the different timelines and whatnot. They probably can't see much, or be of much help, aside from trying to start things over when the bomb drops. Which even they can't do indefinitely." "So they say," Lavinet murmurs. "I find the whole idea unnerving. And if Tapyt has managed to outwit them a thousand times before, it doesn't inspire much confidence in them or their word at all. I suppose that's why they're leaving so much responsibility on <<c firstname>>'s shoulders—it sounds as if they're on the way out, and I'm not sure what to make of that. A world without its creator? Does that mean the heavens lie empty?" "If whatever <<c firstname>> was conversing with was <i>heavenly</i> at all," Riel says again. He, Blade, and Red fall more towards entertaining the possibility that nothing the voice said should be taken as absolute truth. "The whole story smacks of demon trickery. The vague explanations and irrational gaps in the narrative, the persistent insistence on using <<c firstname>>'s powers <i>only</i> for a specific purpose and nothing else… Since when has hearing a strange voice in one's head not provoked the image of demonic manipulation?" <<nobr>><<if $troublehate is false>> "Are you saying <<c firstname>> is a demon?" Trouble asks, a dangerous note of affront in his voice. <<else>> "Are you saying <<c firstname>> is a demon?" Briony asks, sounding shocked. <</if>><</nobr>> Riel waves an impatient hand. "No, of course not. But I am open to the possibility that the voice you heard in the temple could have been." "But for what purpose would they have invented such a story?" Tallys asks. "Perhaps to throw us off some scent," Blade answers. "Say it was a demon, and perhaps it knows of the successes we've had against the Faceless Lords, and our increasing reach across the Continent. Perhaps to misdirect us, it invented some story about this Archdemon, this vessel, and intends for us to be led away from our course through deceit. Something similar happened when you faced Jarkyth in Heth Macoll, didn't it? He tried to convince you that you were actually the spawn of demons and a weapon of the Endarkened to make you doubt yourself." "But how would that explain the voices I've been hearing since I was a child?" you ask. "Or the Words of Power?" Blade frowns. "Perhaps those were benevolent entities to begin with," he says. "Gods, if that's what you want to call them. But perhaps the voice in the temple was not, and only took on their guise to mislead you." "It might have not even been Endarkened," Red murmurs thoughtfully. "Those artifacts were completely foreign to me: I couldn't have dated them or traced their origins even with the entire library at Solhadur at my disposal. Perhaps the luminary housed an ancient spirit, some magic so primeval that we wouldn't even recognize it as such, or some other entity or illusion or trap from an bygone civilization with purposes we can't guess at. Just because it spoke, it doesn't mean it was what it claimed to be." You rub your face wearily, your temple thumping with the possibilities. Shery puts a light, cool hand on your shoulder and says gently, "How do you feel?" "And what do <i>you</i> make of all of this?" Riel asks, not unkind, but more purposeful and businesslike. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I don\'t quite know what to make of it... but I think the voice was telling the truth. I think I am a kithma, and I think I was made to destroy the vessel of Tapyt."' 'i8dont'>><<fair_plus "$faith" +10>><<setcourage +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'m not sure what to think."' 'im8not'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I think something doesn\'t feel right. You\'re right. The Faceless Lords have tried to get into my head before. This could be another one of their tricks."' 'i8think'>><<fair_plus "$faith" -10>><<setcunning +3>><</link>></li> </ul>

Your head is reeling with the implications. You don't have biological parents… you're a creation of <<nobr>><<if $otg is "gods" or $belief is "oldfaith">> the gods themselves… <<else>> a god itself… <</if>><</nobr>> you have lived this story before, though perhaps those other versions, those reset paths, don't count as <i>you</i> at all… <<include "its8enough">>

You have no idea how to even begin processing any of this. If any of what the voice said was true, that would mean you would have to acknowledge and accept the existence and presence of <<nobr>><<if $otg is "gods" or $belief is "oldfaith">> real, true gods… <<elseif $belief is "one-god">> a real, true god… <<elseif $belief is "atheist" or $belief is "agnostic">> a possibility that you haven't even entertained up until now… <</if>><</nobr>> and it would mean that you don't have any biological parents, you're preordained to defeat the spawn of an evil deity and creator of all Endarkened, and you've apparently lived this story before—though perhaps those other versions, those reset paths and rewritten narratives, don't really count as <i>you</i> at all… <<include "its8enough">>

None of it makes sense, you think. How could you not have biological parents? How could you even begin to think you're predestined by some higher power to singlehandedly end the threat of the Endarkened once and for all? Or consider the implications of a history that keeps resetting itself to avoid an unwanted outcome? <<include "its8enough">>

It's enough to make your head spin. Blade catches the look on your face and says, his tone leaving no room for argument: "We can discuss this later. For now, <<c firstname>> needs to rest." Still, it takes over half an hour to corral eleven people out of your room, <<nobr>><<if $cainejoin is true>> especially when Caine turns up and demands to be let in to see you before being shooed out again. <<else>> especially when certain unnamed companions <i>insist</i> they'll be quiet and you won't even notice them if they can just sit in your room a little while longer. <</if>><</nobr>> You end up talking more, going over things with everyone with an openness and candor that you're not accustomed to. But what's clear to you, at least, is that they'll stand by you, no matter what any of this means or what happens next. And that this new knowledge—if that is what it is—doesn't change their feelings about you. In fact, they talk about it as plainly and honestly as if discussing your potential godlike status was a normal course of the afternoon: Trouble makes himself comfortable on your bed while Tallys and Shery seem more concerned with the temperature of your tea or the height of your pillow, and nobody seems overly surprised or perturbed. Somehow, that begins to make you feel a little more at ease, a little less tense and anxious and frozen with shock and worry—<i>this is okay, this will be fine, nothing has changed</i>—and looking at all of them assembled around you, you think, with a moment of affection so intense it almost resembles pain, that you've never trusted a group of people so much as the one gathered in this room right now. Ultimately it takes Elemnestra's testy return to drive everyone out, with the speed and rapidity of villagers fleeing before a waking dragon. Still, they each promise to come back and look in on you in an hour or so, trading off in shifts, and <<nobr>><<if $brionynotouch is false and $briony gte 70>> Briony kisses you on the cheek and <</if>> <<if $lavinethate is false>> Lavinet presses your hands comfortingly and <</if>><</nobr>> Red squeezes your shoulder, and you feel very warm and enfolded in friendship and love. Then they file out, and you're left with a few precious moments of peace and quiet before you hear a light step at the door again. You look up, and blow out a breath. "Mimir." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "the8seer">><</link>></center>

The Seer is hovering in the doorway, her old gauzy veil draped over her face so that she looks a little like a ghost. Someone—probably Shery—has outfitted her in new civilian clothes: while it seems she'll be staying with the Order for the immediate future, you're not sure she has the capacity to serve as a true Shepherd officer. If you look beyond the veil, she looks noticeably cleaner and better-kept, and possibly a shade healthier, too: doubtless she's benefiting from regular meals and access to a roof and clean water. Still, for all the changes, the unnerving, almost blank stare of her silver eyes is as eerie as ever, and you notice that her feet are still bare. Mimir drifts closer, peering at you a little uncertainly. Finally she says: "You wanted to speak to me." It's a statement, not a question, just as usual. You nod slowly. "I did." She comes farther into the room, the door falling shut behind her, and stands patiently at your bedside, staring into the space a little to the right of you as her hands absently run against the loose threads of your blanket. "How was it? Speaking to them?" "To the others just now?" you ask. "Or do you mean what happened at the temple?" Mimir's expectant silence is all you need for an answer. You close your eyes. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"It was... enlightening. I still need to process it, but I feel like I finally have some answers now."' 'mimir8is'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"It was confusing. I feel like I\'ve been left with more questions than answers."' 'mimir8is'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"It was awful. I hated every second of it."' 'mimir8is'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I don\'t know what I feel."' 'mimir8is'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Mimir is silent, absorbing this; though she gives no physical indication that she heard you at all. <<include "mimirinterrogate">>

Whatever you may think, Mimir has always been consistent in her own beliefs: she's a worshiper of the old pagan faith down to the bone. She looks at you strangely, as if you'd asked her if she believes in gravity, and says, "Of course. Did it not seem that way to you?" <<nobr>><<if $belief is "one-god" or $otg is "god">> <br><br> "I perceived Xer as the One-God, personally," you answer. <br><br> Mimir shrugs lightly. "It was as they said. They are the same source, the same light made manifest, only labeled differently according to whoever beholds them." <</if>><</nobr>> "There are some who think it could have been a demon," you tell her, "or an ancient spirit." "But does it really matter what <i>they</i> think?" Mimir asks. "Or I? You are their child. Did you not feel your blood call to their blood? Did you not feel the light within you stir in response to theirs? Was there not a familiarity to them, as if you had spoken to them before, heard their voice in your thoughts, felt the high sweet pierce of their song in your heart?" You're not sure what to say to that. <<include "mimirinterrogate">>

Mimir shakes her head slowly. "Not exactly," she says. "I've heard their whispers before, or felt their will in dreams… but it was always much stronger at the sites of power. That's why I sought the old temples out, to try and hear the gods' voices a little more clearly. But that was the first time I heard them say the words so loudly and directly. Before, it was just… feelings and echoes." <<include "mimirinterrogate">>

"Didn't you say you were searching for your sisters?" you ask her. "You could have touched the luminary yourself and asked the voice how to find them." Mimir shakes her head. "No. Only a true kithma could have activated it. As one of the blood, I could prepare the way for you… but I do not think the gods would have stirred themselves to speak to me thus. But I think they helped me in another way." She doesn't elaborate on she means, however. <<include "mimirinterrogate">>

Mimir looks at you, a little sadly. "No," she says softly. "The luminary broke—it was already fragile and half-dead by the time we found it—and the other sites I found had all gone dark, too. You won't be able to speak to them again, not that way. But couldn't you hear them before?" That's the problem, you think. Ever since you woke up, you've felt as if something was <i>different</i> within you. As if some slumbering part of your brain, some hidden fragment inside you, has been removed: you strain at it, the way you might try to move a frozen muscle, but there's a strange blankness there now. A phantom limb. It's <<nobr>><<if $encounteredblaphemel is true>> the part of you that blared the warning <i>danger</i> before you encountered Blaphemel and Clochus, <<else>> the part of you that blared the warning <i>danger</i> before you encountered Clochus, <</if>><</nobr>> the part of you that whispered to you in your dreams. It had been fading steadily over time, you knew, the intervals where you could hear it becoming more and more spread out, but you always assumed it was because your nightmares were fading, that your life as a Shepherd was steadily driving that strange, surreal part of you further and further into the distance. Now you wonder if it was because the <<nobr>><<if $otg is "gods">> the gods were <<else>> the god was <</if>><</nobr>> weakening, and the latest surge of power from the luminary has severed your connection completely. It feels as if you've dulled a nerve ending and made it inert, as if you burned your hand so badly that you fried the receptors and turned it numb and unfeeling. There's an emptiness there that tells you that you won't hear that voice in your head again. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Lash out at Mimir. "I <i>could</i> hear them before, but now I can\'t. You should have warned me before you made me touch that thing!"' 'lash8out'>><<fair_plus "$mimir" -10>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setcharisma -3>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'React with relief. You might be truly alone for the first time since you were thirteen. "I can\'t hear or feel them anymore, but... it\'s almost freeing. Like it\'s just me now."' 'react8with'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Decline to answer.' 'mimirinterrogate'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Mimir stares at you steadily, unmoved. "I didn't know." "Can't you see the future?" you ask acidly. "Couldn't you see us having this conversation now?" "You have a thousand reflections gathered around you like an army of ghosts," Mimir answers calmly. "They change and melt with each passing moment, each new thought and idea that occurs to you. But this is not the last time you'll speak to the gods. They said so themselves." You huff and turn away from her for a moment, trying to master your anger. Despite it all, you feel strangely… bereft. And alone. <<include "mimirinterrogate">>

Mimir is silent for a while, processing this. "I am glad you feel lighter," she says after a moment. "But know that it won't be the last time you speak to them. They said so themselves." <<include "mimirinterrogate">>

"I only knew that I was supposed to guide you to that moment," Mimir answers. "I believe the gods set me on my journey so that our paths would eventually cross, and so that I could be there to wake the luminary for you and convince you to open yourself to it. I knew it was something they wanted; beyond that, I did not know what they would say. And I did not know that you would fall asleep afterward, but once you did, I saw that there were no paths in which you did not wake up." <<include "mimirinterrogate">>

Mimir nods, though you can't read the emotion on her veiled face, if there's any at all. "I heard it," she says. "But they have been asleep for so long that the world already treats them as if they were dead. Perhaps their time is truly over, and this is simply a natural end to their chapter. The story goes on, and the sun and moons will continue to turn like wound clockwork." She pauses. "And there is still hope. Perhaps if you can defeat Tapyt, and if belief in them spreads across the land again, they will have enough time and energy to recover, rather than wasting away in an endless struggle against his forces. I do not know." <<include "mimirinterrogate">>

"It is well," Mimir says simply. "It is where I am supposed to be. I have some part to play in this, so I will remain until I can fulfill my role. Then I will resume my search for my sisters once I am no longer needed." You realize that, while still cryptic and vague, she's been considerably more lucid and understandable than she was back at the temple. "You seem different," you point out cautiously. Could it have been as simple as giving her a good hot meal all along? Mimir smiles, just a little: the expression is ill-fitting on her face, like a piece of clothing that she rarely wears, but it makes her look more… human. Less ethereal and mysterious. For a moment she simply looks like a young woman, frail and bony, but with a strength of spirit like bright thin steel. "I feel different," she answers. "When the luminary opened, it was as if a strong wind blew away the shroud covering my mind, or as if the sun had burned away a creeping fog. I think the gods rewarded me for bringing you to them, for acting as your guide, as they must have intended all along when they wove the threads of our lives together. Although they didn't speak to me directly, or tell me exactly where the Sisters of the Silver Eye are, their brief presence alone gave me the clarity I'd been seeking whenever I blindly sought out their old seats of power. I'm still… I can still see… <i>everything</i>…" She drops her eyes for a moment. "…But it is a little easier to tell the difference between the present and the future, now. The real world looks a little brighter, and the visions a little more dim. I can tell now when I'm speaking to the real you. Sometimes my mind still grows tired, and my senses become just as overwhelmed or confused, and it's still just as difficult to recall the past…" She meets your eye again and smiles a little wider. "But the burden is easier to bear. And perhaps the improved visibility was all I needed to succeed one day in my quest. The gods have planned for everything, of course." You have to give it to Mimir: she's a pillar of absolute faith. <<nobr>><<if ($faith lte 50 or $intelligence gte 70) or $cunning gte 70>> <br><br> <i>Though</i>, you wonder, <i>what if her sight is becoming clearer because her powers—which must draw directly from the 'gods,' if she is a kithma—are simply waning along with them?</i> <</if>><</nobr>> <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I wish you luck. I hope you succeed in finding them someday."' 'i8wish'>><<setmimir +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'d like to help you find them, one day when this is all over."' 'id8like'>><<fair_plus "$mimir" +10>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I think you should give up. It seems like a pointless task. How could you ever hope to find them?"' 'ithink8you'>><<setmimir -3>><<setcompassionate -5>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"The sooner you leave, the better."' 'the8sooner'>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setcharisma -3>><<fair_plus "$mimir" -10>><</link>></li> </ul>

Mimir inclines her head gravely. "Thank you." <<include "mimirinterrogate">>

Mimir smiles a little. "I would like that," she says softly. "But for now, you have far more important things to consider. There will be time for my task in the future. There always is." <<include "mimirinterrogate">>

Mimir doesn't answer for a moment. "I do not know," she answers simply. "Only that I must." <<include "mimirinterrogate">>

Mimir doesn't answer, as if she didn't hear you. <<include "mimirinterrogate">>

Mimir seems pleased by this question. "Not by blood," she answers, "but we share a kinship in the tasks we've been appointed, perhaps. It is the same bond that you share with the other Shepherds, I think. A connection of duty and destiny." <<include "mimirinterrogate">>

"You're a descendant of the first Silver of the Sister Eye, aren't you?" you ask, struggling to remember her vague backstory. Mimir shrugs. "I do not know," she answers plainly. "I could be an incarnation, a direct descendant—I do not remember. I was found and adopted as an infant, too, so I cannot claim to know my own heritage or parenthood. But other kithma throughout history had children, and in some of your splintered paths, I have seen you having the ability, should you make that choice. You are, in flesh, a Mage through and through: you have all the body parts of a Mage, just as the gods crafted you, and your children would be Mage-blooded. It is simply a part of your soul—a small part, only a segment—that holds the godly aspect, the bright-burning divine power, and it is self-contained. I suspect that if you were to let it run out, you would become entirely normal and mundane. But I'm not sure you could use it outside of the gods' intended purpose, so perhaps it's not possible to expend it in such a manner." <<nobr>><<if $lockwood is "new">> <i>I've done it before</i>, you think, wondering what the $otg thought of the Landsmeet. Or was that part of their plans, too? <</if>><</nobr>> "What about lifespan? Am I immortal?" Mimir shakes her head. "I do not know—even I cannot see that far into the future. Perhaps if you had time to master this power, you could use one to make yourself so, or bend reality to your whim in a variety of ways. <<nobr>><<if $godzpowers is true>> The gods said that you could even learn to unlock the powers of other Children of Light through the refracted light of the divine Words. Who knows their true limits?" <<else>> Who knows its true limit?" <</if>><</nobr>> She lets out a faint little breath, as if unaccustomed to talking for so long. "And yet other kithma were not immortal, though they tended to be long-lived. And I think you would need a long, long time to understand and use such a power without incurring disastrous results. Up until now, it has flowed through you unconsciously, the way water floods through a gate once the keeper lifts it. But to direct it in such a precise and focused manner, the way a god could… you are still caged by a mortal form, with mortal limits and understanding. Like an overfilled vessel, the pressure might shatter you, kill you, or drive you mad; or such an application is simply not possible even for a child of the gods, and can only be wielded in their hands or not at all. I do not know. All I know is that the Words should be saved for the war against Tapyt." <<include "mimirinterrogate">>

Mimir shakes her head slowly. "It is obscured from my sight," she answers, "as it must be from the gods' as well. If it is crafted from the very essence of Tapyt, a creation of his own soul, it is greater than I or any mortal: our laws don't apply to it, my vision does not touch it, and it's likely that not even magic or the Hunters' grace could seek it out, for they are lesser than it. It operates according to different rules than our own." She shakes her head. "But I think you will not need to worry about finding it. The gods said your paths will cross, sooner or later: you will be drawn together by fate, no matter what you do. All you need to concern yourself with now is being prepared." "It would <i>prepare</i> me to know from which quarter I should expect an attack," you mutter. But it seems she knows no more than you, so you let it go for now. <<include "mimirinterrogate">>

Mimir watches you for a long moment; then, unbidden, she reaches out and places a cold slim hand against your cheek. You pause, staring back at her, while Mimir says, her voice very grave, "I know you wonder if your choices are your own; if the path you walk on is one of your own making. You feel like a pawn on a chessboard, moved and guided by a hand that you cannot see: you wonder if this force is behind your every action, word, and even thought. But know this: the feeling will pass. You will find peace and happiness again. You have people who love you, and when the weight of the world leans heavy on you, they will step beside you to help you shoulder the burden." "Are you saying this because you think I need to hear it?" you ask, with a choked, watery laugh. "Because that's what the good version of the story needs you to say? Or is it because you've already seen it happen?" "Neither," Mimir answers seriously. "It's only what I think. But that has to count for something, too." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "mimir8watchesi">><</link>></center>

A few weeks pass. You leave the infirmary after one more night of rest and return to your duties shortly afterward, and life moves on in spastic, fitful motions. You spend long evenings deep in conversation with the others, pondering and guessing and debating, and sometimes simply verbalizing how you feel: your confusions and frustrations and hidden doubts and hurts. But, ultimately, there's not much you can do: there are no books or manuals to consult, no concrete plans to be made and no future moves to be plotted. Nothing in the world has actually changed, except for your own understanding of things. And soon the everyday business and bustle of the Order begins to clamor for your attention again. Eventually there's not much left for anyone to say. You can only resolve to consider the issue for now, to give yourself time and space to let it sink in—but in terms of taking action, there's no practical place to either confirm the veracity of the voice's claims or begin your search for this hidden vessel. Sooner or later, you were told, your path will lead you to it, whether you wish it or not, and you can only gather your strength and prepare yourself for that day. Until then, life goes on. The one notable thing—which you're privately grateful for—is that the behavior of the <<nobr>><<if $rank is "Captain">> other captains <<else>> others <</if>><</nobr>> hasn't changed. They don't treat you any differently, and not one word of what happened in the depths of the Bleakmoor is spoken outside of your circle of companions; you have the utmost trust that it will remain that way. And outside of the awkward first few hours and some initial verbal tiptoeing, everyone takes it with a surprising amount of sangfroid and aplomb. Chase cracks as many jokes as ever; Ayla is just as roughly affectionate, Riel just as crisp and efficient, Shery just as sweet, and Blade just as stern. It almost feels as if they've suspected something like this about you all along, and now there's simply an actual term for it, a solid confirmation. <<nobr>><<if $shepherdsknow is true>> Other than that, it doesn't seem to alter their opinions of you in the least. <<else>> Other than that, it doesn't seem to alter their opinions of you, though you sometimes wonder if they've simply agreed to act that way for your sake. <</if>><</nobr>> <<nobr>><<if $brionyhate is false>> <br><br> "We love you for you, <<c firstname>>, not for the circumstances of your birth or what you're going to do in the future," Briony tells you easily. "We've got your back when you need it. But if you don't want to talk about it, that's fine, too." <br><br> "It's less that I don't want to talk about it and more that I don't know what else to say," you answer, chagrined. <br><br> She smiles. "That's fine, too." <</if>><</nobr>> Ultimately you decide that not much can be done with this new information, so you file it away as best you can for the moment and return to your duties. Enik's inspection of the Order apparently went swimmingly, as Lavinet assures you with a triumphant smile, and try as he might, he couldn't find even a bed sheet out of order. So he and his posse of Inquisitors withdrew without incident, and you expect that you won't be troubled by any scrutiny from his end of things for quite a while. Whispers from the Sun Court trickle through the streets, dripping with speculation and rumor: Enik hasn't even been officially coronated yet, and already it seems he's dealing with scheming nobles, turbulent court politics, and rising Endarkened numbers. Luckily for you, it seems he needs the Shepherds more than ever. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "sotime8goes">><</link>></center>

Upon your return, Haven feels much the same as when you left it: the same pearl-gray skies, gradually lightening to the first hopeful tint of spring, the same white spires crowning the plateau and reaching for the heavens. You, however, feel a bit different: waterlogged with some new heaviness, bedraggled and frayed and weary even past your bones, down somewhere in your very spirit. You feel threadbare and worn thin, and you wonder if it was your experiences with Thurl and the Bleakmoor marshes that made you feel this way. Normal post-mission fatigue, or something else? And from the quiet, speculative looks on the others' faces during your journey home, you wonder if they're asking themselves the same thing. Mimir, who doesn't bother you again, is taken briskly under wing by Shery and her team upon your arrival back to headquarters. The Seer is given an abundance of warm food, new clothing, and a room of her own, though she immediately balks at the thought of sleeping in such close quarters with so many people. "Too many ghosts," she mutters, pulling her veil over her face. "Too many reflections, too many paths." Despite yourself, you barely keep yourself from rolling your eyes. Instead, she makes herself comfortable in a furnished tent in one of the unused courtyards. No one quite bats an eye at this behavior, having grown used to the oddballs, mavericks, and strays that you often end up finding on your msisions and drag home. The luminary that Mimir showed you isn't discussed in detail again, though one night Trouble regales the others with the story while the Seer is taking her dinner outside. Although he neatly skirts your poor reaction to being cornered in the temple, you glance over to find Halek watching you as the story unfolds, something new and sharpened in his face, an unblinking intentness that makes you feel somewhat hunted. Uneasy, you look away, and thankfully the subject doesn't come up again. <<page_break "Next" "recapforthepossessed">>

Life moves on in spastic fits and starts, and you return to your duties. Enik's inspection of the Order apparently went swimmingly, as Lavinet assures you with a triumphant smile, and try as he might, he couldn't find even a bed sheet out of order. So he and his posse of Inquisitors withdrew without incident, and you expect that you won't be troubled by any scrutiny from his end of things for quite a while. Whispers from the Sun Court trickle through the streets, dripping with speculation and rumor: Enik hasn't even been officially coronated yet, and already it seems he's dealing with scheming nobles, turbulent court politics, and rising Endarkened numbers. Luckily for you, it seems he needs the Shepherds more than ever. <<include "sotime8goes">>

So time goes on, and the first pale buds of spring begin to appear through the wet and glittering frost lining the branches outside your window. You <<nobr>><<if $trainingtime gt 0>> train your recruits, <</if>><</nobr>> spend time with friends, and take on a series of light missions around Haven, most of them so simple and routine at this point that you barely even register their subject matter. The Order's ranks have swelled again, you notice, the refectory roaring with warmth and noise every evening like the belly of some great mythical beast. New people are joining the Shepherds every day, Tallys informs you over a particularly loud dinner one night. Not only were they inspired by the Shepherds' increasingly famous deeds and the need to join the battle against the Endarkened, but she theorizes that some recruits are joining as a preemptive move ahead of Enik's new regime. No one knows exactly how his rule as Autarch will proceed, especially as his upcoming Ascendancy Festival looms on the horizon, but the bleak predictions about life as a Diminished are leading some people to join your ranks in droves. "Safety in numbers, after all," Tallys says dryly. With the rise in numbers comes necessary changes to the Order's infrastructure. Not only has a new training academy for the recruits been established, with a rigorous program and dozens of tests to pass before they can be certified as officers and allowed out into the field, but the Order has also been divided into two main sections, the Lunar Corps and Solar Corps, with dozens of sub-departments and new offices. The Solar Corps consists of the officers essential to the everyday maintenance and administration of the Order. This encompasses everyone from administrators like Shery and Riel, basic-level recruits and cadets in training, officers in charge of patrols, canvassing, interviews, traffic control, guard duty, weapons and equipment creation, healing, research, and otherwise. The Lunar Corps, on the other hand, is the division reserved for elite agents and specialized squads, who are almost exclusively combat-orientated and involved with high-risk missions and scenarios. These are the fighters who are deployed on the most dangerous, difficult, or technically-demanding assignments: the spies, soldiers, assassins, exorcists, and other experts of the Order. Officers can only be promoted to Lunar Corps through hard work, merit, skill, and selfless daring; and, accordingly, they are afforded higher pay as well as a more glamorous and exotic reputation, as their work is often kept on a need-to-know basis. Lunar Corps officers are, predictably, a source of envy and admiration for most recruits in the Order as well as the everyday citizenry of Haven. You, of course, are automatically ranked as a Lunar Corps agent, along with the majority of the people and captains you work with. Even the Shepherds' flag and symbol changes, though this seems to be the result of a new edict passed down from Enik's desk rather than a strictly internal decision. Apparently the one thing he did not enjoy during his inspection was the Shepherds' prominent wolf emblem, as he felt it was not in line with the other state agencies' iconography. There were also some allusions that the wolf was being used in unkind depictions of the Shepherds: "a wolf in sheep's clothing" was one popular Norm newspaper's slogan, while Diminished critics of the Order used "dogs of the Autarchy." Thus, Enik 'suggested' changing the Order's symbol to something more harmonious with the sun and eye used by the Autarchy and its Inquisitors. Whether out of malicious compliance or pure spite, Blade changed it to the symbol of a crescent moon and sword. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "but8these">><</link>></center>

But these are not the only changes to the Order. <<nobr>><<if ((($cantbecommander lt 3 and $blade gte 60) and ($reputation gt 70 and $army gte 45)) and (($order gte 50 and $rank is "Captain") and ($shepherdsconscript is false)))>> Blade calls you into his office one day, looking tense and serious behind the growing tower of papers on his desk. <br><br> <<include "asktobecommander">> <<else>> <<include "rielmadecommander">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Enik's inspection seemingly made Blade realize one thing: that leadership of the Order needs to be more dispersed. With its growing numbers, your commander's workload is beginning to become untenable. And more than that, apparently, if there were another mission like Wallmire—one that required both him and Trouble to be away—the Shepherds' chain of command could be easily broken, especially if something were to happen to Tallys as well. To remedy this, Blade decides to overhaul leadership of the Shepherds entirely—which includes elevating Riel to the position of Commander-Seneschal. "But what <i>is</i> it?" Briony asks over a game of dreadnaughts one night. You, Ayla, and Red are arranged comfortably around the fire in one of the common rooms together: Chase has taken to calling it 'Mage Book Club Night', despite the fact that the only one reading is Red at present. "A commander-senes—I've never heard of such a thing." "I believe it's based off of an old Ket method of leadership," Red comments, glancing up from his novel, his long legs flung over the side of his armchair. "The Chicoran triumvirate. There were some city-states in ancient times that had three leaders that shared power, sort of like a ruling council. They kept each other in check and ensured that governance was fair and democratic, not taken over by a single militaristic dictator. They had their own duties and responsibilities and domains, but also shared power when it came to larger decisions." He begins ticking off his fingers. "There was the commander-polemarch, who was the commander of the military and all responsibilities related to the armed forces." "That'd be Blade," Ayla mutters, hunched over her knees as she concentrates on peeling an apple for dessert. "Then there would be the commander-seneschal. From my understanding, that'd be the commander in charge of organizational and fiscal administration, general bureaucracy, dealing with supplies and requisitions, the treasury and other systemic management…" "Oh, then Riel's <i>perfect</i> for that!" Briony exclaims happily. Then she pauses. "But what about the Merchants Guild?" "He's given it up," Ayla answers, still intent over her fruit. "Or put his right-hand woman Aerin on the board as his proxy, or something like that. I don't know. He's not the leader anymore, anyway, but he's still got a seat on the board and has a say. But otherwise I think he's ready for bigger things with the Shepherds. Doesn't really seem to care about normal merchant business anymore, not when he's got a taste for life fighting demons and, you know, defeating evil in the world and all." She pauses meaningfully. "Hard to go back to <i>anything</i> after that. Stuff starts to feel a bit pointless in comparison, you know?" "And the last position?" you ask Red. "You said there were three." He nods. "That would be the commander-legate," he says. "At a guess, that would be the person who acts as the main ambassador and public face of the order, in charge of in charge of maintaining alliances and political connections, building strength and reputation outside of our ranks, fostering goodwill and resources, and inciting recruitment and aid to our cause." There's a small, careful silence at that. "Who's that going to be?" Briony asks finally, guileless. It's Ayla who answers, shrugging as she crunches into a piece of apple. "The two of them haven't decided yet. There's a bunch of other steps that have got to be done first, I heard. Committees and sub-councils and new teams and staff divisions..." The talk devolves into speculation on the details of all of these changes for the order. Frankly, it all sounds like a dizzying headache. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You're just glad you're not the one who has to deal with it.</div>' 'autogenerated_686049'>><<setloyal +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Still, you can't help but wonder why your input hasn't been asked for.</div>' 'autogenerated_686050'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Still, you're resentful. Why hasn't Blade asked you to be a commander, too? You're the Hero of Haven, after all.</div>' 'autogenerated_686051'>><<setblade -10>><<setriel -5>><<setloyal -10>><<setcunning +1>><<setcompassionate -3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

You're happy with exactly the role you've been given: you want nothing less, and nothing more. <<include 'ascendancyfestivalprelude'>>

Then again, it doesn't seem like Shery, Trouble, or Tallys were consulted, either, and they've been a part of the Order for longer than you. You decide to not to take it too personally. <<include 'ascendancyfestivalprelude'>>

Still, there's nothing about it that can be done. You bite back your annoyance and decide to bide your time. Maybe there's a reason for all of this. Maybe you'll be asked to take on the position later, when things have settled down. All you can do right now is wait and see how things unfold. <<include 'ascendancyfestivalprelude'>>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "ascendancyfestival">><</link>></center>

"Don't tell me it's another foreign mission?" you ask, coming to a parade rest in front of his desk. "Or did you need help with all this paperwork?" Blade lays his current file to the side with a sigh, gesturing for you to take a seat before leaning his elbows on the table and steepling his fingers in a pensive posture. He says, without preamble: "Enik's inspection made me realize one thing: leadership of the Order needs to be more dispersed. With our growing numbers, my workload is beginning to become untenable, even by my standards. But more than that, if there is another mission like Wallmire that requires me, or Trouble, or both, or if anything should happen to either of us and Tallys—say if someone were to remove us from the chain of command, for whatever reason—the Shepherds can't be left rudderless and directionless. Would you agree?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Uh..."' 'ourranks8now'>><<setcharisma -1>><<setintelligence -1>><<setcourage -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Yes, that makes sense."' 'yesthat8makes'>><<setloyal +1>><<setcourage +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"No, I think things should stay the way they are."' 'noi8think'>><<setloyal -3>><</link>></li> </ul>

You always thought leadership of the Shepherds was concerningly centralized, considering its leaders' penchants for personally heading out into the field on dangerous, potentially life-ending missions themselves. Blade nods. <<include "ourranks8now">>

Blade shakes his head. <<include "ourranks8now">>

"Our ranks now run into the thousands," he continues. "One man can't effectively address all of the duties and responsibilities that are essential to running such an organization. And I have my own flaws as a leader that need to be compensated for. I am militarily-adept and well-suited at coordinating missions, training recruits, deploying soldiers and units, and organizing the logistics of raising an army and protecting the city. But I am less inclined towards the administration, the bureaucracy, the day-to-day busywork and protocol—let alone the active recruitment, marketing campaigns, and public-facing side of things, as Naveen continually insists is necessary." He makes an impatient noise with his tongue. "So, considering all of that and how large our order has grown, I've decided to split leadership of the Shepherds into three commanding roles, modeling the system after an old Ket city-state way of governance. Are you familiar with the Chicoran triumvirate?" <ul class="choices"> <<if ($intelligence gte 50 and $heritage is "Ket") or $intelligence gte 65>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Yes. Instead of having one executive leader, the city-state Chicora once had a council of three, who kept everything in perfect balance."</div>' 'yesinstead8of'>><<setintelligence +1>><<setblade +1>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">"Yes. Instead of having one executive leader, the city-state Chicora once had a council of three, who kept everything in perfect balance."</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link '"Never heard of them."' 'neverheard8of'>><</link>></li> </ul>

It was a system of governance that lasted for several hundred years, if you recall correctly, and is still studied by politicians and historians today. "They were called the three Pax or the three Kleii, depending on the time period," you state. "Their reign only ended when Chicora was defeated and temporarily occupied by Luxue during Siege of Iwa-Ohtori." Blade is clearly impressed by the depth of your knowledge. "That's right," he answers. "But during their rule, Chicora flourished into a halcyon age—one that they haven't seen since. I intend to do something similar with the Shepherds." <<include "sothere8will">>

"It doesn't much matter," Blade says briskly. "The short of it is, they were a proven method of governance: three commanders were able to share power and rule an entire city-state in a fair and balanced manner. Their reign that lasted several hundred years and ushered in a heyday for their people. I intend to do something similar with the Shepherds." <<include "sothere8will">>

"So there will be three commanders, all equal to each other in rank?" you ask. He nods. "That's correct. Each commander will have their own specific role and duties, but they will also share and distribute the same larger workload and responsibilities. All officers will address them with equal rank and respect, and when it comes to very large-scale decisions, the three will make a unified agreement—or, in rare cases, put it to a vote." He sits back in his chair, looking brooding. "I am even considering forming a council or sub-committee to serve under the three commanders, composed of the captains, who will be there to offer feedback in times of major crisis or deadlocks. The council members can cast votes in the event that one commander is absent and the other two are locked in a tie, or in the case that the commanders want to delegate or roundtable issues that would be better decided in a large group. Things like regulation changes or bylaws." Then he sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, as if fighting off a headache. "This might be all be only a temporary stopgap until we have the manpower and resources to begin setting up Shepherd branches in other cities: then we can divert recruits there and lessen the stress and workload placed on the Haven branch. But for now, I'm willing to experiment and take a chance on seeing if this works." You're silent for a moment, taking this all in. "So what would be the three commanding positions, specifically?" "If we're using the old Ket names," Blade answers wryly, "there would be the commander-polemarch, or the commander-general: the commander of the military and all responsibilities related to the armed forces." You smile. "That would be your title, obviously." He inclines his head. "Then there would be the commander-seneschal," he continues. "The commander in charge of organizational and fiscal administration, general bureaucracy, dealing with supplies and requisitions, the treasury and other systemic management…" One person immediately comes to mind for that position. "I'm assuming you're thinking of Riel?" Blade nods. "I've already asked him. He's essentially been helming that position these last months, anyway: the only difference will be that it now has an official title." You think on the matter, turning it over in your head. It's true that Riel swept in and essentially took the reins in terms of bureaucracy as soon as he allied himself with the Order, but… "Being a friend of the Shepherds or even an unofficial captain is one thing," you point out, "but becoming one of the Order's three reigning commanders is another. Can he afford to become commander-seneschal <i>and</i> maintain his seat as leader of Merchants Guild?" "I asked him the same thing," Blade answers dryly. "He's still thinking it over, but I believe he intends to step down as leader of Merchants Guild and give the position to his assistant Aerin. He mentioned something about potentially forming a ruling board as his last act as leader of the guild, with Aerin as the new head and chairperson while he retains a passive seat. All he'll need to do is vote on issues that will require all board members to vote, it seems, so it will allow him to maintain a direct line to the Merchants Guild without attracting too much ire; but then he walked off while muttering and plotting to himself, so I failed to gather the pertinent details." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"That sounds like Riel, all right."' 'thatsounds8like'>><<setriel +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I can\'t believe he would quit as leader of the Merchants Guild!"' 'icant8believe'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Why don\'t you give the position to Shery? She\'s been here longer than Riel."' 'whydont8you'>><<setshery +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

No doubt he'll be strategizing exactly which merchants and personalities should fill each position and scheming over their various advantages and disadvantages for some time; you can just picture him rubbing his hands together and smirking like a fox out of a children's fairytale. <<include "andthe8last">>

Blade makes a soft, dismissive noise, almost a kind of verbal shrug. "I had a feeling," he says simply. "He told me once that he only became leader of Merchants Guild for the authority and influence it gave him; he leveraged his status as leader of Merchants Guild in order to insert himself into the upper echelons of Haven's powerful and elite. It was a way for him to wheel and deal and build connections and pull levers in circles he couldn't have reached on his own. But it was never something he was personally passionate about. Commander of the Shepherds—and <i>Norm</i> Commander of the Shepherds—is now a step higher than Merchants Guild, thanks to our rising reputation, and even more effective at garnering the prominence and influence he aims to achieve." "And money?" you ask. "Can you meet the salary that the leader of Merchants Guild no doubt receives?" Blade waves a hand. "Riel didn't ask for it. He can still profit off of his own personal business ventures and investments, so long as it doesn't interfere with his duties." He shrugs. "He didn't say much, but from my estimation, he is excited about the possibilities as far as a man like Riel can show excitement. He mentioned something about it adding more meaning to his pursuits, giving him the opportunity to contribute to the social good rather than solely seek personal profit; and that he was growing a little bored with the position of merchant leader, anyway. It was beginning to prove unchallenging for him: he's mastered the game so thoroughly that now his mind turns to higher goals." You nod slowly. <<include "andthe8last">>

"I broached the topic with her once," Blade acknowledges evenly. "The color drained so completely from her face, it was as if I had threatened to execute her." He shrugs lightly. "She enjoys her duties as Quartermaster and has no desire to assume more authority or command than she already has. She insists she'd be much happier assisting Riel rather than taking his place." You nod. <<include "andthe8last">>

"And the last commanding position? What would that entail?" "That would be the commander-legate," Blade says steadily. "The person who acts as the main ambassador and public face of the order, in charge of maintaining alliances and political connections, building strength and reputation outside of our ranks, fostering goodwill and resources, and inciting recruitment and aid to our cause." He gives you a very flat look, which you've come to realize is Blade's way of being droll. "That would be you, of course." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'You\'re stunned. "<i>Me</i>?"' 'youre8stunned'>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 30>><<set $bladeromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'You\'re not surprised in the least. You knew he would be asking you this as soon as he brought the topic up.' 'yourenot8surprised'>><<setintelligence +1>><<setcunning +1>><<setcourage +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'You\'re hesitant. "I\'m not sure if that\'s the best idea..."' 'youre8hesitant'>><</link>><<setcourage -1>></li> </ul>

Blade's mouth twitches. "Yes, you. You're the Hero of Haven. Who else <i>except</i> you?" <<include "shouldibecommander">>

Blade's mouth twitches at your lack of surprise. "I suppose it was obvious what I was leading up to. And you're the Hero of Haven. Who else would it be but you?" <<include "shouldibecommander">>

Blade watches you keenly. "You're the Hero of Haven," he answers bluntly. "Who else but you?" <<include "shouldibecommander">>

<ul class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("isthis8because")>><<ask '"Is this because of what happened at the temple?"' 'isthis8because'>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("whatwould8my")>><<ask '"What would my duties entail?"' 'whatwould8my'>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("whowould8you")>><<ask '"Who would you ask if I didn\'t want to do it?"' 'whowould8you'>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("doesit8come")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Does it come with a pay raise?"</div>' 'doesit8come'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("wouldi8have")>><<ask '"Would I have to report to the Autarch the way you do?"' 'wouldi8have'>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("whatabout8trouble")>><<ask '"What about Trouble and Tallys?"' 'whatabout8trouble'>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("sodoes8this") and $bladeromanceflag gte 30 and $highestromance is "blade">><<ask '"So does this mean you would no longer be my boss or commanding officer?"' 'sodoes8this'>><</if>> <li><<link '"I\'m sorry, I think I\'ll have to decline."' 'imsorry8ithink'>><<fair_plus "$loyal" -20>><<fair_plus "$blade" -10>><<setcourage -5>><<setcharisma -5>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I accept. I\'ll become a commander of the Shepherds."' 'iaccept8commander'>><<fair_plus "$blade" +10>><<set $rank to "Commander">><<setreputation +5>><<fair_plus "$loyal" +10>><<setcharisma +3>><<setcourage +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Blade watches you searchingly, but his voice is even and calm as he answers, "No. I place very little stock in the word of a disembodied voice, even one that claims to be a god. But I have always known you to be exceptional, even when we first asked you to join the Order, and it only makes sense for you to step into this role now that I intend on restructuring. You have already been fulfilling it, whether you meant to or not." <<include "shouldibecommander">>

Blade leans forward, his eyes keen and intent as they fix on your face. "Not too much would change, other than your official title and rank. You'd have a larger part in decisions regarding the Order, of course: your opinion would have more official sway, and you'd have a larger breadth of command among the troops. In more specific terms, you would receive your own office and would take on some of the everyday work that any of the three commanders could perform, along with some duties specific to your position: meeting with the press when necessary, for example, or serving as emissary and representative to groups like the Changelings, the Elementals, or the aristocracy." <<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 25>> He glances away from you briefly. <<else>> He sits back, though his eyes don't leave your face. <</if>><</nobr>> "I would like to be mindful about not overloading you unduly: you already do so much for the Order, and I won't risk you running yourself ragged. All in all, it's doubtful your day-to-day life would change much—but you would likely need to spend an hour or so on your days off to ensure your duties are being fulfilled and your work is all in order." <<include "shouldibecommander">>

Blade is silent for a moment, assessing you with his dark, perspicacious eyes. Finally he says, his tone steady and unreadable, "I suppose Naveen is the only other candidate that would be suitable." You feel a prickle of surprise—but it makes sense. Of course, with her vast experience at court intrigue and politics, Lavinet would be an old hand at serving as an ambassador of the Shepherds, building alliances and charming connections into lending aid to the Order; and her status as the first noble to join the ranks has already made her a figure of inspiration to both the commonfolk and aristocracy, a kind of trendsetter or trailblazer who's already motivated unlikely followers to join up themselves. "But I have yet to broach the topic with her," Blade continues. "I am aware that she joined the Shepherds with the intention of staving off marriage for as long as she could. But should Lockwood require her, or should her father force her into an engagement anyway, she would be placed in a difficult position—she may be beholden to forces other than our own, unless she is willing to abandon her position in the way that Riel is willing to move on from his. So she is a last resort rather than my first choice." <<include "shouldibecommander">>

Blade nods. "I don't take a higher pay myself, but I wouldn't ask you to take on more work without a corresponding incentive. You would be paid double what you're paid now." <<include "shouldibecommander">>

Prior to her death, Blade personally delivered reports to the Autarch or her delegates once a moonturn, just as the Head Inquisitor and the Commissioner of the Vice Guard did, albeit separately. Enik has yet to summon him, as far as you know, so there's no way of knowing if the tradition will continue or if the personal appointments will cease altogether. Blade shakes his head. "That duty will still fall to me alone," he says dryly. "I would not inflict it on you." <<include "shouldibecommander">>

"They will remain in the same positions," Blade says. "When we were merely a founding company of twenty, they took on their positions out of sheer necessity, because there was no one else—not out of any personal desire. Neither has any true interest in leading unless the need is dire and we are in the midst of an emergency. So Trouble will become commander-polemarch in the event of my death or unexpected absence, and Tallys will do the same for Riel. Both are content with that. Down the road, I'm sure they will select their own emergency stand-ins, and should you accept command, you will ultimately choose yours as well." <<include "shouldibecommander">>

Blade smiles, though his eyes remain a little guarded. "No, we would be equals," he says, inclining his head amusedly. "Though as co-commanders, we would be under even more scrutiny than we might have been before." <<include "shouldibecommander">>

Blade is silent for a moment, and his face is graven and completely unreadable to you. Finally he inclines his head and says, "Understood. Thank you for your time, <<c rank>>." You nod and leave him to his work. The door shuts behind you with a quiet, unobtrusive click. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "ascendancyfestival">><</link>></center>

Blade rarely shows much emotion, but for this, he cracks a warm enough smile that you can read the relief and gladness in his eyes. <<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 30 and $highestromance is "blade">> He rises and rounds the desk to shake your hand, and if his grip lingers for just an instant, his palm calloused and strong and warm, it's still brief enough that you think you might have imagined it. <<elseif $blade gte 70>> He rises and rounds the desk to shake your hand, his own grip calloused and strong. <</if>><</nobr>> "Thank you, <<c firstname>>," he says, his voice low and sincere. Then he turns back to duty and business and says, all brusque efficiency now, "Let's inform Riel of the good news. Then we can put our heads together on how to transition to this new hierarchy as smoothly as possible." You laugh. "You're moving quickly so I won't have a chance to back out." <<nobr>><<if $blade gte 70 or $bladeromanceflag gte 30>> "Perhaps," Blade concedes with a slight smile, holding the door open to guide you out, "but not so quickly that I won't take you to a meal later as thanks." <<else>> "Perhaps," Blade concedes, holding the door open to accompany you out, "but it seems to be working, so I can't turn from my course now." <</if>><</nobr>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "ascendancyfestival">><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<set $bladefestival to false, $troublefestival to false, $tallysfestival to false, $sheryfestival to false, $chasefestival to false, $rielfestival to false, $redfestival to false, $aylafestival to false, $brionyfestival to false, $lavinetfestival to false, $halekfestival to false, $festivalpartner to "">><<romancecalc>><<friendshipcalc>><</nobr>> And so the days pass in a flurry of activity as you adjust to the new changes in your personal life as well as the world at large. It feels a little as if the world has been shifted slightly on its axis, gravity just a little tilted, the colors and scents of the day just a little different from what you remembered—but you hardly have time to dwell on it. As ever, there are always more important things to think about, to do, and to be. Before you know it, the long-awaited day of the Ascendancy Festival arrives. You wake at dawn to find a tide of setup, construction, and early revelry in the streets below covering up the sounds of returning birdsong. You stretch languidly, dozing for a while in the pale spring warmth slanting in against your bed: you have the day off, as the new Autarch has ordered that high-ranking officers of the Order have time to attend and enjoy the festival tonight. At midnight, Enik will officially ascend to the Golden Throne, ushering in a new era for Haven and the Continent at large. It is not an occasion to be missed. <<nobr>> <<if ($highestromance is "blade" or $highestfriendship is "blade") or ($blade gt 70 or $bladeromanceflag gte 30) and ($bladehate is false)>> <<set $bladefestival to true>> <</if>> <<if ($highestromance is "trouble" or $highestfriendship is "trouble") or ($trouble gt 60 or $troubleromanceflag gte 20) and $troublehate is false>> <<set $troublefestival to true>> <</if>> <<if ($highestromance is "tallys" or $highestfriendship is "tallys") or ($tallys gt 70 or $tallyssex is true) and $tallyshate is false>> <<set $tallysfestival to true>> <</if>> <<if (($highestromance is "shery" or $highestfriendship is "shery") or ($shery gt 65 or $sheryromanceflag gte 20)) and $sheryhate is false>> <<set $sheryfestival to true>> <</if>> <<if (($highestromance is "riel" or $highestfriendship is "riel") or ($riel gt 70 or $rielromanceflag gt 25)) and $rielhate is false>> <<set $rielfestival to true>> <</if>> <<if (($highestromance is "chase" or $highestfriendship is "chase") or ($chase gt 65 or $chasesex is true)) and $chasehate is false>> <<set $chasefestival to true>> <</if>> <<if (($highestromance is "red" or $highestfriendship is "red") or ($red gt 65 or $redromanceflag gte 20)) and $redhate is false>> <<set $redfestival to true>> <</if>> <<if (($highestromance is "ayla" or $highestfriendship is "ayla") or ($ayla gt 65 or $aylaromanceflag gte 20)) and $aylahate is false>> <<set $aylafestival to true>> <</if>> <<if (($highestromance is "briony" or $highestfriendship is "briony") or ($briony gt 60 or $brionyromanceflag gte 15)) and $brionyhate is false>> <<set $brionyfestival to true>> <</if>> <<if (($highestromance is "lavinet" or $highestfriendship is "lavinet") or ($lavinet gt 60 or $lavinetromanceflag gte 10)) and $lavinethate is false>> <<set $lavinetfestival to true>> <</if>> <<if ($highestfriendship is "halek" or $halek gte 65) and $halekhate is false>> <<set $halekfestival to true>> <</if>> <<if ($bladefestival is true or $troublefestival is true) or ($tallysfestival is true or $sheryfestival is true) or ($rielfestival is true or $chasefestival is true) or ($redfestival is true or $aylafestival is true) or ($brionyfestival is true or $lavinetfestival is true) or $halekfestival is true>> <br><br> Once you finally stir yourself from bed, you find a litany of written invitations slipped under your door. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "festival8invites">><</link>></center> <<else>> <<include "largest8celebration">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $bladefestival is true>> <<if settings.music is true>><<audio "pageturn" volume 0.5 play>><</if>> <<set $loadPassage to Story.get("bladefestivalinvite").text;>> <<letter_holder "note half-width-letter-holder" $loadPassage>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "trouble8festival">><</link>></center> <<else>> <<include "trouble8festival">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><i>I noticed that our shifts happened to align tonight.</i> <<if $bladeromanceflag gte 30>> <i>I don't tend to gravitate toward these events, but it would be enjoyable with you. - Blade</i> <<else>> <i>I would attend the festival if you wanted to. - Blade</i> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $troublefestival>> <<if settings.music is true>><<audio "pageturn" volume 0.5 play>><</if>> <<set $loadPassage to Story.get("troublefestivalinvite").text;>> <<letter_holder "note half-width-letter-holder" $loadPassage>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "tallys8festival">><</link>></center> <<else>> <<include "tallys8festival">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $troubleromanceflag gte 25>> <i><<c halfname>>—festival wouldn't be any fun without you. Want to go together? I can come by and pick you up once my shift is over. - Trouble </i><<else>> <i><<c halfname>>! It's been too long since we got to relax together. Come to the festival with me tonight: you won't regret it! - Trouble</i> <</if>> <br><br> <</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $tallysfestival is true>> <<if settings.music is true>><<audio "pageturn" volume 0.5 play>><</if>> <<set $loadPassage to Story.get("tallysfestivalinvite").text;>> <<letter_holder "note half-width-letter-holder" $loadPassage>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "shery8festival">><</link>></center> <<else>> <<include "shery8festival">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><i>I was hesitant about attending the festival tonight, but it seems I have no choice in the matter. </i> <<if $tallyssex is true>> <i>I would love to attend with you, if that was what you wanted, elan.</i> <br><br> <i>Love, Tallys</i> <<else>> <i>I would love to attend with you, if you wanted some company. </i> <br><br> <i>Your friend, Tallys</i> <</if>> <br><br> <</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $sheryfestival is true>> <<if settings.music is true>><<audio "pageturn" volume 0.5 play>><</if>> <<set $loadPassage to Story.get("sheryfestivalinvite").text;>> <<letter_holder "note half-width-letter-holder" $loadPassage>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "chase8festival">><</link>></center> <<else>> <<include "chase8festival">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>> <i>Dear <<c firstname>>,</i> <br><br> <i>I meant to ask you this in person, but time slipped past me, and now you're sleeping, and I didn't want to wake you up! Are you planning on attending the festival tonight? I would love to join you if you wanted to go together! No pressure, of course! Please feel free to let me know anytime! </i> <<if $sheryromanceflag gte 25>> <i>Either way, I'm very much hoping to see you there!</i> <</if>> <br><br> <i>Warmest regards,</i> <br> <i>Shery</i> <br><br> <</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $chasefestival is true>> <<if settings.music is true>><<audio "pageturn" volume 0.5 play>><</if>> <<set $loadPassage to Story.get("chasefestivalinvite").text;>> <<letter_holder "note half-width-letter-holder" $loadPassage>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "riel8festival">><</link>></center> <<else>> <<include "riel8festival">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $chaseread is true>> <i><<c nickname>> + Chase = ♥ </i> <br><br> <<if $chaseromanceflag gte 25 or $chasesex is true>> <i>Darling deerest,</i> <<else>> <i>Prof,</i> <</if>> <br> <i> Let me take you to the festival tonight~ </i> <center><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/room/chasecat.png"></center> <<else>> <i>Hey <<c surname>>, Chase wants me to ask you if you'd like to go to the festival with him tonight. No idea why he couldn't just ask you himself, but he said he wants to maintain his 'air of mystery' or whatever… Please just say yes so I don't have to deal with this. -Ari</i> <</if>> <br><br> <</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $rielfestival is true>> <<if settings.music is true>><<audio "pageturn" volume 0.5 play>><</if>> <<set $loadPassage to Story.get("rielfestivalinvite").text;>> <<letter_holder "note half-width-letter-holder" $loadPassage>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "red8festival">><</link>></center> <<else>> <<include "red8festival">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><i>To <<c rank>> <<c firstname>> <<c surname>>:</i> <br><br> <i>It would be my great honor to attend the Ascendancy Festival with you tonight at seventh nightbell. Please forward your response to my office or reply in person. </i> <br><br> <<if $rielromanceflag gte 20>> <i>Yours, </i><br> <i>Riel Syndran</i> <<else>> <i>Sincerest regards,</i><br> <i>Riel Syndran, Esquire, Master of Merchants Guild</i> <</if>> <br><br> <</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $redfestival is true>> <<if settings.music is true>><<audio "pageturn" volume 0.5 play>><</if>> <<set $loadPassage to Story.get("redfestivalinvite").text;>> <<letter_holder "note half-width-letter-holder" $loadPassage>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "ayla8festival">><</link>></center> <<else>> <<include "ayla8festival">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><i>Hey <<c halfname2>>,</i> <br><br> <i>Are you planning on attending the festival tonight? I'd love to go together, if we could. </i> <<if $redrelationship is "ex" or $redrelationship is "friend">> <i>It'd be just like old times.</i> <</if>> <<if $reddate is true>> <i>Plus, I still owe you that date. </i> <</if>> <<if $highestromance is "red" and $redromanceflag gte 20>> <i>I'll even dress up, if you do. </i> <<else>> <i>Hope you'll say yes.</i> <</if>> <br><br> <i>Yours, </i><br> <i>Red</i> <br><br> <</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $aylafestival is true>> <<if settings.music is true>><<audio "pageturn" volume 0.5 play>><</if>> <<set $loadPassage to Story.get("aylafestivalinvite").text;>> <<letter_holder "note half-width-letter-holder" $loadPassage>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "briony8festival">><</link>></center> <<else>> <<include "briony8festival">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><i>I don't even wanna go to this dumb festival unless you go. </i> <<if $highestromance is "ayla" or $aylaromanceflag gte 20>> <i>So… it'd be nice if we could go. Together. - A</i> <<else>> <i>So you'd better go so I can go, okay? - Ayla</i> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $brionyfestival is true>> <<if settings.music is true>><<audio "pageturn" volume 0.5 play>><</if>> <<set $loadPassage to Story.get("brionyfestivalinvite").text;>> <<letter_holder "note half-width-letter-holder" $loadPassage>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "lavinet8festival">><</link>></center> <<else>> <<include "lavinet8festival">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><i><<c firstname>>!!! Let's go to the festival together! It'd be so much fun, I'd really love to go with you!</i> <<if $brionyromanceflag gte 20 or $highestromance is "briony">> <i>There's no one else I'd rather be with tonight than you! ❤</i> <</if>> <br><br> <i>Love, Briony</i> <br><br> <</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $lavinetfestival is true>> <<if settings.music is true>><<audio "pageturn" volume 0.5 play>><</if>> <<set $loadPassage to Story.get("lavinetfestivalinvite").text;>> <<letter_holder "note half-width-letter-holder" $loadPassage>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "halek8festival">><</link>></center> <<else>> <<include "halek8festival">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><i>Darling, I'm terribly curious about this Ascendancy Festival: it sounds like a once-in-a-lifetime occasion! Would you like to be my escort for this event? </i> <<if $lavinetromanceflag gte 12 or $highestromance is "lavinet">> <i>Do say yes, or I'll be terribly cross.</i> <</if>> <br><br> <<if $lavinetromanceflag gte 12 or $highestromance is "lavinet">> <i>Warmly yours, </i><br> <<else>> <i>Your friend,</i><br> <</if>> <i>Lavinet Naveen</i> <br><br> <</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $halekfestival is true>> <<if settings.music is true>><<audio "pageturn" volume 0.5 play>><</if>> <<set $loadPassage to Story.get("halekfestivalinvite").text;>> <<letter_holder "note half-width-letter-holder" $loadPassage>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "largest8celebration">><</link>></center> <<else>> <<include "largest8celebration">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<i>Yo. I heard the food at this festival is going to be good. Wanna go? - Halek</i>

This is going to be the largest celebration that Haven has thrown in decades: you've heard various rumors of firework displays, parades, live theatrical performances, firedancers and circuses, street food, festival games, and much more. <<nobr>><<if $codexnotification is true and $aro is false and $aroace is false>> And experiencing it all with a companion might take your relationship in significant directions... especially in the case of romantic pursuits. <<elseif $codexnotification is true>> And experiencing it all with a companion might increase your relationship with them in significant ways. <</if>><</nobr>> <ul class="choices"> <<if $bladefestival is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">I\'ll attend with Blade.</div>' 'festival8summary'>><<set $festivalpartner to "blade", $blade += 5>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">I\'ll attend with Blade.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $troublefestival is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">I\'ll attend with Trouble.</div>' 'festival8dressup'>><<set $festivalpartner to "trouble", $trouble += 5>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">I\'ll attend with Trouble.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $tallysfestival is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">I\'ll attend with Tallys.</div>' 'festival8summary'>><<set $festivalpartner to "tallys", $tallys += 5>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">I\'ll attend with Tallys.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $sheryfestival is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">I\'ll attend with Shery.</div>' 'festival8summary'>><<set $festivalpartner to "shery", $shery += 5>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">I\'ll attend with Shery.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $rielfestival is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">I\'ll attend with Riel.</div>' 'festival8summary'>><<set $festivalpartner to "riel", $riel += 5>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">I\'ll attend with Riel.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $chasefestival is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">I\'ll attend with Chase.</div>' 'festival8summary'>><<set $festivalpartner to "chase", $chase += 5>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">I\'ll attend with Chase.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $redfestival is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">I\'ll attend with Red.</div>' 'festival8summary'>><<set $festivalpartner to "red", $red += 5>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">I\'ll attend with Red.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $aylafestival is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">I\'ll attend with Ayla.</div>' 'festival8summary'>><<set $festivalpartner to "ayla", $ayla += 5>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">I\'ll attend with Ayla.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $halekfestival is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">I\'ll attend with Halek.</div>' 'festival8summary'>><<set $festivalpartner to "halek", $halek += 5>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">I\'ll attend with Halek.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $brionyfestival is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">I\'ll attend with Briony.</div>' 'festival8summary'>><<set $festivalpartner to "briony", $briony += 5>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">I\'ll attend with Briony.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $lavinetfestival is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">I\'ll attend with Lavinet.</div>' 'festival8summary'>><<set $festivalpartner to "lavinet", $lavinet += 5>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">I\'ll attend with Lavinet.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link 'I won\'t attend the festival at all.' 'festival8skip'>><<setloyal -15>><</link>></li> </ul>

<<nobr>><<set $festivaldress to "">><</nobr>>With that decided, all you need to do is get ready for this evening. How will you dress? <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $charisma gte 75>><<link '<div class="choice-item">To the nines, in my best festival finery. It's a celebration, right?</div>' 'autogenerated_686052'>><<set $festivaldress to "stunning">><<set $clothes to "a resplendent festival outfit">><</link>><</if>> <<if $charisma lt 75>><div class="inactive-item">To the nines, in my best festival finery. It's a celebration, right?</div><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">I'll dress nicely to mark the occasion, neither too ostentiously nor too casually.</div>' 'autogenerated_686053'>><<set $festivaldress to "nice">><<set $clothes to "dressy festival clothes">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">I'll dress casually, with the usual clothes I'd wear when spending time off-duty.</div>' 'autogenerated_686054'>><<set $festivaldress to "casual">><<set $clothes to "your casual leisure clothes">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">I'll just throw on whatever's clean. Tonight is not that big of a deal.</div>' 'autogenerated_686055'>><<set $festivaldress to "schlubby">><<set $clothes to "whatever you could scrounge up from around your room">><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

You examine yourself in the mirror and can't help but preen and primp a little. Anyone would agree that you look stunning, if you do say so yourself. It's perfect. <<include 'festivalpartnermeetup'>>

You examine yourself in the mirror and nod with satisfaction. You look polished, a little more done-up than your usual everyday look, but without giving off the impression of trying too hard. It's perfect. <<include 'festivalpartnermeetup'>>

You examine yourself in the mirror and nod with satisfaction. You look just as you always do, which is fitting for a casual night out in the crowded streets. It's perfect. <<include 'festivalpartnermeetup'>>

You examine yourself in the mirror and shrug to yourself. It'll do. <<include 'festivalpartnermeetup'>>

<<page_break "Knock! Knock! Knock!" "festivalpartnermeetup2">>

[The content for this companion's festival interlude hasn't been written yet. Come back later when it's finished, or check the development logs to see which companions are available!] <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "glowof8festival">><</link>></center>

Somehow, the idea of celebrating Enik Goldenson's rise to the throne doesn't sit well with you. You decide to skip the affair altogether and have a quiet night to yourself. <<page_break "festival8skip2">>

A few days later, you're blessed with a few additional days off from work. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "dayoff">><<if settings.music is true>><<audio ":playing" fadeout>><</if>><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<set $clothes to "the crisp, black-and-silver-threaded uniform of the Shepherds, the rampant hound shining proudly on your chest">><</nobr>>The glow of the Ascendancy Festival has barely faded before you're blessed with a few additional days off from work. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "dayoff">><<if settings.music is true>><<audio ":playing" fadeout>><</if>><</link>></center>

<<nobr>> /* probably need a new name for this section since it might clash with previous chapters -- original comment: comment go back through and make sure this content is consistent with ascension festival scenes. who has confessed so far and who is actually in a relationship? because day off scenes aren't written yet, idk which of these characters are now secretly dating vs. still in crushing stage, so make sure to go over their interactions to accurately reflect where they are in the relationship once it's known. (aka "$sheryromanceflag" checks might actually be "sheryromance = true" checks, etc.!) */ <</nobr>> One day, you find yourself at loose ends: you have no pending missions or paperwork to see to, and many of the others are away from the city on assignments of their own, so you decide to make yourself useful by helping Shery with her never-ending quest to clear out the Archmage's immense vaults underneath the compound. In her spare time, she's managed to clear out two entire rooms on her own—each the length of a small library—and sorted through ancient junk and magical artifacts (separated by levels of danger) to find some very useful tools for the Order. "I know we always assumed that this place was the Archmage's personal home," Shery explains, her tone cheerful and enthusiastic as you help her sort through dusty crates packed with what seem to be mummified animals and strange, dizzying spices in little clay pots. "But I always wondered why he would need such a large structure if it was just <i>him</i>. It's impossible to determine the original size of the tower, of course, given that only the base was left by the time we restored it, and the fact that it has a habit of changing size and adding floors as we need them… but the records do indicate that it was a <i>tower</i>. At first I thought that perhaps the size was necessary for his magical operations: he was Archmage of the entire city at one point, its political leader and head of its ruling council, so perhaps that duty involved rituals and spellwork on a scale we can't even comprehend today. But then I found <i>this</i>." She picks up a crackling tome filled with browned, hardly legible pages. It seems to be a registry or ledger of some sort, filled with names and dates. "When I first came across this, I believed it was a list of all of the apprentices Archmage Tangriel had working under him in one year," Shery says triumphantly as you squint over the hundreds of rows of cramped, careful writing. "And that may be true: I've come across references that implied that being in his employ was a coveted position for working Mages all across the land. But there are so many names that I began to wonder… what if they weren't all simply assistants and apprentices? What if this is a list of <i>students</i>?" She beams excitedly. "What if Archmage Tangriel ran a school here, right out of his own home, and his tower was actually a private magical academy where promising young Mages could learn under his tutelage?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"It makes perfect sense. The building\'s ability to change size, the hundreds of dormitory-style bedrooms and bathrooms, the security wards and spells..."' 'itmakes8perfect'>><<setshery +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Why haven\'t you just asked the spirits to confirm your theory? They must have been around during that time."' 'whyhavent8you'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"But if there was an entire school living here at some point, how could Tangriel disappear as abruptly as he did? Surely his students would have gone looking for him."' 'butif8there'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

"I always thought many of those things were added <i>after</i> we established the Order," you note, "because we needed them, and the tower sensed that. But it would make perfect sense that Tangriel would have had to program the building to evaluate and provide for the needs of a school or a large organization in the first place." You shake your head wonderingly. "I'm surprised no one else has thought of it." Shery practically glows with pleasure. "Of course, this theory doesn't have much practical application," she continues shyly, "but at least some things start to add up. But then the question has to be asked: why did he eventually shutter his doors to live in isolation? We know that he became a recluse in his later years, living and working alone in the twilight of his career… it's why no one immediately knew to go looking for him when he suddenly disappeared. But did he simply grow old and tire of all of the commotion, or did something happen?" <<nobr>><<if recall ("achieve_vartageth") and $tangrieljournal is true>> <br><br> "Did that journal I brought back say anything?" you ask. <br><br> Shery shakes her head slowly. "What little I could make out was academic in nature: research notes, reminders to himself or formulae that he needed to remember. There isn't anything about his personal life, really. And of course, by the time he translocates himself into that cave, he only records what's happening to him—he doesn't make many allusions to his past." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "youcould8become">>

"Spirits don't seem to perceive time the way we do," she says with a sigh, shaking her head. "And asking them directly about the past never gets me anywhere: they're not interested in talking about it, or they simply won't respond. They're not obligated to answer to anybody except the Archmage, you see, even after all these years." <<include "youcould8become">>

"I think his disappearance came in his later years," Shery answers thoughtfully, taking the tome back and running her hands over the cracked leather cover. "When he had retired and presumably closed his doors to new students, preferring instead to live and work in isolation. He was reportedly quite the recluse in the twilight of his career. But I think he must have first built the tower to house many bodies, not just his own." <<include "youcould8become">>

"You could become the leading scholar on Archmage Tangriel, you know," you tell her conversationally, shifting a crate of sorted goods to one side. "You've gained more of an insight into his life and this place's history than potentially anyone else on the Continent. And I'm sure there's an interest in this type of knowledge—Archmage Tangriel was a legendary figure, wasn't he, an important personage when it comes to this city's history? You could give guest lectures over at the university, based on everything you've learned about him." Shery blushes. "Oh, I could never," she demurs. "Aside from a fear of public speaking, I don't actually <i>know</i> anything: this is all just guesswork and deduction, not very rigorous academic work like what Red and the Circle-Mages conduct. It's just an interesting pasttime for me." She ducks her head, her long pale hair sweeping over her face as she roots around in a tattered satchel. "In the end, I'm simply very grateful to Archmage Tangriel. He's the one who's given us this wonderful home. If I can unearth anything about him and learn about this place he's created for us, that would be my way of paying him back…" She smiles at you. "But that's all it is. And one day I can be done wondering and leave the past in the past." You're about to reply when a warning prickles at the back of your neck: you feel the sudden and acute sensation of being watched. You turn to look over your shoulder and nearly jump five feet out of your own skin. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"<i>What</i> in the—"' 'mimiris8sitting'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Hael\'s bells!"' 'mimiris8sitting'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"God\'s immaculate piss!"' 'godsimmaculate8piss'>><<setshery -3>><<if $troublehate is false>><<settrouble +1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Mimir, what the <i>fuck</i>?"' 'mimiris8sitting'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Shery looks incredibly scandalized. "I think Trouble has been having an influence on you," she murmurs. <<include "mimiris8sitting">>

Mimir is sitting in a shadowed corner of the room, her customary veil draped over her head so that she appears to be some gauze-swathed apparition watching you from between large barrels and strange lumpen shapes covered in their own moldering sheets. There's no telling when or how she got there: she simply watches you neutrally from behind her veil, silent and unmoving as the grave. You turn to Shery, who looks completely unsurprised by Mimir's presence. "How long has she been in here with us?" "The entire time," the quartermaster answers, blinking slightly. "She was there when you came in. She likes to sit in here with me when I do my sorting: it's quieter down here, away from all the people, and since this all has to do with the past, she can get a break from her visions. It's a place of solitude for her, of sorts." "Why didn't you say anything when I came in?" you ask, directing the question at Mimir. She blinks at you, very slowly. "I don't know," she says dreamily. "I thought you were another ghost. Or I was asleep." Right. You shake your head with a slight sigh and resume your rummaging, shaking off the jolt of being startled so suddenly and carefully flipping through old volumes and texts from Archmage Tangriel's time. They've been jammed so tightly into their boxes for so long that their pages have practically fused together, but when you do manage to leaf through them, the esoterica you find within is so dizzying and foreign that it's essentially an alien language. "No wonder we don't understand how the tower's defenses work," you remark to Shery, who hums in thought as she holds small, bejeweled vials up to the magelight installed above. "Their magic was so <i>different</i> back then. It's all… layered and labyrinthine, with all sorts of tricks and steps baked in to trip you up. It's like trying to read a book, only you have to read the text forward, backwards, upside-down, in a spiral, and go through the pages according to a specific numerical pattern, forward and back, instead of in a linear and straightforward manner. Magic nowadays is so much more naturalistic and instinctual. It can be complicated, of course, but the primary forces to be concerned with are your own concentration and willpower, and the techniques you use to direct it. The magic of their time was so different. It's like they had to first devise four different ways to construct five pieces of a bridge in order to cross a pond, rather than simply wading through or using the rocks that are already there to skip their way across. Their minds didn't work like that, apparently." "Maybe the simpler way is a sign of progress," Shery suggests. "I've heard the first guns ever developed were terribly complicated to wield: you had to go through multiple steps in order to load one with ammunition, c-cock it, and then fire, to the point where people lamented that it would never actually be a useful weapon. Maybe magic had to be refined in a similar manner over the millennia, where the more advanced the understanding of it was, the simpler it became to use. Or maybe it's a side effect from the Castigation? Being forced to learn and wield magic largely in secret meant there was never any time to pass on the really complex rituals?" "Maybe," you muse—you're mostly preoccupied with relief that you don't have to solve an abstruse mathematical problem or use a "lexiturgical conduit" or a "hylomorphic matrix" every time you want to practice "the Craft." You're still mulling over this when you hear a light tapping at the door: you and Shery both look up to find Riel walking briskly into the room as if he was the one who assigned you to it in the first place… and he's accompanied by the most unlikely companion you would have ever envisioned for him. <<nobr>><<if $shopvisit gt 0>> "Chandry?" You straighten in surprise. "What are you doing here?" <br><br> "I found him in the atrium, looking for Shery," Riel answers, carefully ignoring the clown as he gives a cry of delight and greeting upon recognizing you. "He wants to know where he should deliver his latest shipment of wares. And I was looking for you, <<c firstname>>, so it seemed more efficient to come find the two of you together." <br><br> <<include "shery8stands">> <<else>> "This is Chandry," Riel says, indicating the bizarre figure keeping apace with him. "One of the vendors we've formed a business partnership with. He's been a crucial figure in finding suppliers and bulk goods for the Order." <br><br> His tone is light and professional, but you have to force yourself not to stare at his guest. "Chandry" is a tall, lanky figure dressed in clothes that seem both shabby in assemblage and princely in make: he's bedecked with skewed kerchiefs, crooked sashes, and brightly-buttoned and embroidered fine silk clothes, most of them clashing horrifically in color. But most importantly… his face is painted like a court jester's. <br><br> He's a clown. A literal clown. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Er... pleased to meet you, Chandry. I\'m <<c firstname>> <<c surname>>."' 'er8pleased'>><<setcharisma +1>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Stare at Riel. "You\'re joking, right?"' 'riel8sweeps'>><<set $chandry -= 1>><<setriel -1>><<setcharisma -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Stare at Chandry. "Why are you dressed like that?"' 'stare8at'>><</link>></li> </ul> <</if>><</nobr>>

Chandry beams, revealing brilliant white teeth behind his painted red lips. Something about him looks somehow familiar—have you met him before? "It is an honor to behold you, my friend," he declares, sweeping you a theatrical bow. "I've heard much about you. You must come to my shop, Chandry's Bends and Boddities, whenever you have the time." <<include "riel8sweeps">>

"Ah, my friend, this fashion is all the rage in the South!" the clown cries emphatically. Something about him looks somehow familiar—have you met him before, perhaps without the painted face? "It may appear unusual to you, but the most forward-thinking designers in Conte are wearing garb just like mine, this very moment! Even lords and kings wear clothes such as these!" "They don't. I promise you, they don't." <<include "riel8sweeps">>

Something about him looks somehow familiar—have you met him before, perhaps without the painted face? But Riel sweeps right past the unusualness of this scenario with his usual crisp efficiency and says, "Chandry was in the atrium, looking for Shery: he wants to know where he should deliver his latest shipment of wares. And I was looking for you, so it seemed more efficient to come find the two of you together." <<include "shery8stands">>

<<page_break "Next" "shery8stands2">>

Shery stands hurriedly, brushing dust off of her knee-length skirt. "Of course! I'm so sorry, Chandry, I forgot that we had changed the delivery to today rather than the end of the week—" The clown beams beatifically. "Not a problem, Miss Acquell, not a problem at all! I always relish the opportunity to plumb these hallowed halls! The soaring architecture, the sauce of ancient history marinating these grand stones—it makes my bones come alive with the sounds of time!" Riel's eye twitches imperceptibly; he looks as if he has a headache coming on. <<nobr>><<if $riel gt 60 and $rieltime gt 1>> Chandry's asymmetrical and clashing appearance is probably agitating his neurotic tendencies. <</if>><</nobr>> "Yes, well…." He gestures vaguely. "It seems like a good time for you to coordinate your delivery. Those gauntlets you ordered from Ambryn are sorely needed by our training instructors, so this is fortunate timing. Any of the recruits you see running around are at your disposal." "You are gracious, Guildmaster, so gracious! Ah, but before we proceed to business…" Chandry suddenly raps his knuckles on his forehead: a play-actor's gesture of realization and thwarted forgetfulness. "As I was standing at the front gates, taking a moment to admire the view of your singing towers, a courier approached me and asked me to deliver a package to someone inside. To Shepherd <<c surname>>, in fact!" "Me?" You frown, wiping your own grimy hands on your pant legs as you come forward to accept the expensive-looking box that Chandry produces from within his colorful coat. You turn the package over: it's unmarked, wrapped in sleek, shiny paper and tied with an elegant gold ribbon that makes Shery sigh with admiration. "There's no name. Did the courier say who it was from?" "Not at all!" Chandry proclaims, as if the mystery of it all delights and amuses him. "But she did bear the insignia of the Sun Court on her shoulder, so I assumed it was some token from an admirer. I am honored to facilitate a burgeoning relationship in even a small way! I live to serve!" Riel frowns as you eye the package, racking your brains over who it might have come from. <<nobr>><<if $prihineromance is true>> <i>Prihine?… But no, if she sent me something, it would be from a messenger with her own insignia, not the Sun Court's. </i> <</if>><</nobr>> You remember receiving a note from the Autarch, back when you joined the Shepherds last summer, but that had been very clear about who it came from and why—and you can't imagine Enik bestirring himself to send an opulent package like this. "There wasn't a letter that came with it?" Riel asks skeptically. "It would be extremely unusual for any noble or politician to send a gift, even an anonymous one, without some kind of note or form of address." "I swear there was no letter," Chandry says earnestly as you tug on one end of the silk ribbon, feeling it unravel with an easy, slippery motion. "And the courier did not say anything, only that it should be handed to Shepherd <<c surname>> as soon as possible." The heavy, matte wrapping paper falls away from the package, revealing a thin, creamy pink box similar to the kind sold in confectioneries and chocolatiers' shops. Already you catch the sugary scent of luxury sweets from within—but as soon as you lift the lid, several things happen at once. First: your stomach immediately cramps with a feeling of nausea, of <i>wrongness</i>. It's the sick, hot feeling that fills your nostrils when your gorge rises, a sensation that makes your sinuses sting and your head spin. Second: something dark falls out of the box of sweets, landing on the ground and writhing like a ghostly snake. You catch the strong, headachy sensation of foreign magic from it as it lands at your feet before it dissipates into oily, greasy-looking smoke. Third: the door to the Vault slams shut with a thunderous, ominous gong-like sound, sealing the five of you inside. And as you watch, the edges of the doorway itself flare, as if traced by light… and then melt away, leaving only bare wall and blank stone behind. You are now abruptly trapped in a room with no exit. The magelight overhead snuffs out, plunging the five of you into darkness. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "amidstthe8sudden">><</link>></center>

Amidst the sudden cries of alarm and surprise, you scramble to produce a magelight of your own: a large, luminous ball of golden light that hovers in your palm as you hold your arm aloft. You see Shery, standing close to you and clutching her skirt, looking pale and startled; Riel, looking tense and severe as he scans the room with a frown, trying to see where the door went; Mimir, still sitting calmly in her corner, as unaffected by events as ever; and Chandry, looking awed and wondering, as if this were a show you'd put on for his benefit. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Is everyone all right?"' 'is8everyone'>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>></li> <<if $shery gte 55 and $compassionate gte 55>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Comfort Shery. "Here, take my hand if you need to."</div>' 'comfort8shery'>><<if $gender is "female">><<set $sheryromanceflag += 3>><</if>><<setshery +3>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Comfort Shery. "Here, take my hand if you need to."</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link 'Call over to Riel. "Do you see anything?"' 'call8over'>><<setcunning +1>><<setriel +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

"Fine," Riel answers, sounding merely annoyed, as if being sealed in a magical vault were an everyday inconvenience for him. You wonder if his composure is ever truly ruffled. "Fine," Shery manages to squeak. "Mimir? Chandry?" "In all paths, you always opened the box," the Seer says dreamily. You take this to mean that she's fine. Chandry adds, sounding quite chipper, "I am as whole and well as the day I was born!" <<include "you8take">>

Shery blushes immediately, but when she speaks, her voice is steady enough. "I'm all right. T-thank you." Still, she moves to hover by your side, close enough that you can feel the heat of her through the chill of the ambient air. <<nobr>><<if $sheryromanceflag gte 10>> Her hand reaches out to timidly fasten against the back of your uniform, and when you smile at her comfortingly, she blushes even deeper. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "you8take">>

He shakes his head slowly, tracing the wall where the door once was. "Nothing at all. Clearly some form of magic, though whether it physically changed the properties of the room or merely presents an illusion that confuses the mind, I can't be sure. You would know better than I." <<include "you8take">>

You take a breath and take stock of your situation. Okay. You are now locked in a dark room with Shery, Riel, Mimir, and Chandry. You have no weapons on your person—having left them in your room when you came down to help Shery—and you're not sure who even knows you're down here, or how long it would take for them to get you out. But for now, you're still alone in the Vault and seem relatively safe. "What even happened?" "It was that box," Riel answers, approaching to take the package of sweets from you. <<nobr>><<if $rielromanceflag gte 10>> You catch the sharp, clean scent of his cologne and his expensive suit as he leans closer to you, his elegant fingers just brushing yours. Something sparks in your stomach from the unexpected contact, but Riel doesn't appear to notice. <<if ($rielromanceflag gte 20)>> <i>But he always notices everything, from the slightest inhale to the quickest blink—doesn't he?</i> <</if>> <</if>><</nobr>> "Something about it must have triggered the tower's magical defenses: the wards and security spells sensed a threat when you opened it, so they sealed us inside this room in response, isolating the danger from the rest of the building. Probably a safeguard to capture any intruders or enemies who wished harm on the tower's occupants." He sniffs the confections—rows of colorful chocolate truffles nestled in tissue paper—carefully. "Perhaps these are poisoned. I believe a similar alarm was raised when that Healer, Benir Roxak, brought Black Sun onto the premises." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"How do you know that? You weren\'t even there."' 'howdo8you'>><<setriel +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Poison? You think someone meant to poison me?"' 'poison8you'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I assume that\'s what made the lights go out, as well?"' 'iassume8thats'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Riel gives a grim, slightly vampiric smile. "I'm the Commander-Seneschal," he says. "It behooves me to know everything I can about the Order." <<include "youlook8around">>

"Well, perhaps not," Riel murmurs, angling the box this way and that: he's using a handkerchief to hold it, you notice. "You would have been unlikely to eat something that was deliberately left unmarked and unaddressed: they would have made more of an effort to lull you into a false sense of security if they intended to poison you. Unless the box itself was poisoned." Shery gives an alarmed squeak, and you immediately check your hands, but you don't feel any different. Riel shakes his head minutely, frowning to himself. "If it were a powerful enough poison to be absorbed through the skin and still able to do you real harm, you would have had a reaction by now. So perhaps not that." "Perhaps you should stop guessing," Chandry suggests helpfully. <<include "youlook8around">>

Riel nods. "That would be my guess. Darkness could only confuse and immobilize unwanted intruders. We're simply lucky it didn't trigger an even more dangerous trap. Imagine if this room had begun filling up with water." Shery makes an alarmed squeak, and you state dryly, "Maybe hold off on the morbid speculations for now." Riel clears his throat slightly. "Fair enough." <<include "youlook8around">>

You look around at the others. "Did anyone else see that <i>thing</i> fall out of the box?" You inspect the shadowy floor as best you can with your magelight, but you can't see anything out of the ordinary. Shery shakes her head. "I d-didn't see anything," she says softly. "I only saw you recoil, as if you did." "I saw the same," Riel says. "I was not looking," Chandry admits, pulling nervously on his neck kerchief, "as I was distracted by the room's marvelous crown molding. However, when you opened the box, I did feel as if something <i>evil</i> had passed its shadow over the room." "Mimir?" You turn to look at the Seer, who has shuffled closer, her veil now wrapped as a kind of shawl around her thin shoulders as she peers curiously at the box; Riel passes it back to you. She nods slowly. "I saw many versions of you opening many boxes," she confirms. "In each one, something leapt out, dark and wriggling like a slug. Each time, it fell to the ground and was snuffed out." You feel something loosen in you in relief. Good: so you weren't the only one who saw it. "It felt like a curse," you tell the others. "What its nature was, I can't be sure, since I didn't have time to examine it closely—but it felt wrong, and like it should have been invisible to the naked eye. I think the tower defenses pinpointed it so that it couldn't conceal itself—made it visible to the magical senses, so to speak, like marking a stolen banknote with ink—and then neutralized the spell before it could do any harm." Riel frowns deeply, clasping his hands behind his back as he paces in a tight, pin-perfect line, swiveling back and forth on his polished heel. "That is alarming," he murmurs, stating the obvious. "Either someone from the Sun Court decided to send you a cursed object, or someone with enough power and political cunning decided to <i>masquerade</i> as the Sun Court and do the same, potentially igniting a conflict between us. But what was the nature of the spell exactly? That seems vital information to know. What did the sender intend for it to do?" "And also," Shery says nervously, "if the tower blames <i>us</i> for bringing a curse onto its premises, and has sealed us inside because it thinks we're the threat… how are we going to get out of this room?" It's that moment that the ghost pops into existence beside you. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "youtense8and">><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<if $courage gte 60 and $strength gte 50>> You tense and reach for a weapon that's not there; <<else>> You yelp and drop the box of chocolates to the ground, sending them scattering across the stone floor; <</if>><</nobr>> the colorless, ghostly figure to your left rotates in place to watch you impassively. It hangs in the air like a pale turquoise column of flame, only vaguely person-shaped, lacking any discernible features like eyes or hands. It's not a <i>spirit</i>, exactly, as far as you can tell—not like the other spirits of the tower, anyway, the kind that you could summon from their spectral plane and bind to a vessel. And it's not a true ghost, either: not the phantom wraith of a human who was once alive. It's more like an echo: not a living, sentient thing, but spellwork animated and come alive through a designed, artificial framework of consciousness. A rudimentary magical construct programmed with specific instructions and the ability to answer simple, limited questions, but not with the ability to truly <i>think</i>. A kind of simulacrum, you think, though nothing like any simulacrum you've ever studied. After glancing around at the others, who look baffled by the specter's stillness as much as its sudden appearance, you clear your throat and try to address it. "Hello?" There's another moment of hovering in silence; then the phantom projection speaks. Its voice is the metallic, ringing scrape of something made of clockwork and bells. "Maleficarum," it intones gravely. "You have been judged. Your crime: the smuggling of contraband into this protected sanctum." <<include "maleficarum">>

The simulacrum doesn't answer. Apparently this question is not within its index of responses. <<include "maleficarum">>

"It was a catch-all, political term for an evil magic-user," Riel says tersely. "It was the more common word for Mage criminals in Archmage Tangriel's time, rather than Sorcerer or witch." <<include "maleficarum">>

"What are you doing?" Riel hisses. "We need it! If you make it vanish, we may never get out of here." <<include "maleficarum">>

There is another long pause while the simulacrum hovers there, presumably processing what you've said. Finally it says, its intangible voice making your eardrums tighten slightly and your skull buzz: "You have been judged. It seems you speak true. Still, you must be sealed within this room. If you were unwise enough to bring such a threat into this protected sanctum, you do not deserve a place in its halls." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"It wasn\'t our fault. It was his." You throw a look of accusation at Chandry, who pales.' 'itwasnt8our'>><<setcunning +3>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setshery -3>><<set $chandry -= 2>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"How long do you expect us to stay in here?"' 'howlong8do'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Are you serious? Who are you to judge us for a mistake?"' 'areyou8serious'>><</link>></li> </ul>

"Ay!" the clown cries, yanking on his rainbow-colored curls in distress. "Twas my belief that I did something valorous and kind! I did not know!" <<include "there8must">>

The simulacrum is pitiless in its response. "Indefinitely." <<include "there8must">>

The simulacrum doesn't answer. Apparently this question is not within its index of responses. <<include "there8must">>

"Th-there must be some failsafe," Shery says anxiously, gripping your sleeve to get your attention. "If I'm right, and this place was once a school, there must have been students who got into trouble every now and then; the Archmage wouldn't have let the tower condemn them for a simple mistake, there must be a way to make an exception…" "Unless the Archmage <i>was</i> the failsafe," Riel says archly, "meant to swoop in after letting his trouble-making students cool their heels for a while so they could contemplate their mistakes. Then he'd lift the spell and let them out—but that would require him to be around in order to deem them worthy of release. Would that system still work if he's dead?" Your heart rate climbs at the thought. Already the large, dim, chilly vault is beginning to feel a little warmer, a little smaller. How long would you last down here without food? Finally Mimir murmurs, "Ask it about the labyrinth." The three of you turn to her sharply. "The <i>what</i>?" The Seer shrugs a little. "We could spend hours asking it questions that it doesn't know the answers to. But it knows that one. I've seen it." You turn to the simulacrum and say cautiously: <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Is there a labyrinth?"' 'the8simulacrum'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"What about the labyrinth?"' 'the8simulacrum'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Um... I\'m supposed to ask you about a labyrinth?"' 'the8simulacrum'>><<setmimir -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

The simulacrum processes in silence for a moment; you sense a vague feeling of surprise from it, as if it was taken off-guard by your question. Finally it says: "You are not the true originator of the execration, so you will not be killed as punishment. But neither have you proved your worth of the tower, so you cannot be released from this room. We do not yet know if you are friend or foe." "We're friends," you tell it, keeping your voice both urgent and sincere. "We are definitely friends." "But you brought a thing of danger into the protected sanctum," the simulacrum insists, unmoved by your statement. "That cannot be so easily forgiven. Perhaps the tower's enemies seek to use you as pawns, even if you do not intend it yourselves." It pauses again, thinking. "Very well. Only because you are free of ill intent and dark magic, you may be given the chance to prove your worth by entering the labyrinth." "And what is this labyrinth?" Riel demands. "It is a test of your character," the simulacrum responds tonelessly. "A series of trials you may undergo in order to prove your worth and have your error absolved. Should you succeed, you will be allowed to leave this place through pathways not yet known to you, and rejoin those of the tower unharmed." Riel makes a light tsking sound with his tongue, clearly suspicious of this offer. "And should we fail?" "These Vaults will be closed to you forever, and all their treasures sealed away, until such a time another comes to prove their worth," the figure says. "At least a hundred years. You, of course, will be doomed to remain here, your bones to be discovered as yet another secret of the tower." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "this8triggersan">><</link>></center>

<<set $sim1 to false, $sim2 to false>>This triggers an explosion of impassioned disagreement and protest from your group, but no matter what you say, the simulacrum remains steadfast and unmoved. Eventually Riel makes a sound of disgust and says, "Its logic is too elementary to be swayed by arguments: it only follows simple—and flawed—protocols. There isn't any room for nuance or persuasion." You glance at the simulacrum, which continues to hover patiently, giving no sign that it even heard him. <<include "thesimulacrum">>

<ul class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("whomade8you")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Who made you? I\'ve never seen a creation like you in the tower\'s main levels."</div>' 'whomade8you'>><<set $sim1 to true>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("howlong8have") and $sim1 is true>><<ask '"How long have you been down here?"' 'howlong8have'>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("whats8inside")>><<ask '"What\'s inside the labyrinth?"' 'whats8inside'>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("whatis8nature")>><<ask '"What is the nature of these trials? How do we pass them?"' 'whatis8nature'>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("canwe8be")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Can we be killed during these trials?"</div>' 'canwe8be'>><<set $sim2 to true>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("whathappens8if")>><<ask '"What happens if we refuse?"' 'whathappens8if'>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("whats8tostop")>><<ask '"What\'s to stop me from simply destroying you?"' 'whats8tostop'>><</if>> <li><<link 'The simulacrum doesn\'t seem to have anything else to say.' 'you8turnto'>><</link>></li> </ul>

"I was the experiment of a student here," the simulacrum answers evenly. Something in its voice shifts, becomes just a little more human and less brassy and machine-like, before it resettles again. "She tasked herself with devising safeguards for the tower that were as complex as Archmage Tangriel's, but which did not rely on the binding of spirits, which she found to be cruel. I am just one of many prototypes that were left here in the Vaults after she left the school." "But that means you were never incorporated into the tower's main spells and wards," Riel interjects, his tone dripping acid. "Does that mean you are a <i>failed</i> experiment?" The simulacrum doesn't answer. Chandry pulls his collar up to hide the movement of his mouth as he coughs loudly and mutters in an aside: "We will be trapped and killed by a student's homework assignment!" "What was the name of the student who made you?" Shery asks. "She must have been quite powerful, for a spell of hers to last all this time." The simulacrum doesn't answer. Perhaps it doesn't know. <<include "thesimulacrum">>

"I do not know when I was first left and forgotten in this Vault," the simulacrum answers. "But as the years crept past, my magic took hold of this room, sinking into its stones like water and permeating its structure. I do not know how long I lay dormant, but I know that the danger you brought roused me from my slumber." "So in a way, had it not been for us, you likely never would have been activated again," Shery points out. "You wouldn't have had the chance to wake up." The simulacrum doesn't answer. <<include "thesimulacrum">>

"I do not know," the simulacrum answers. "I only know how to show you its entrance." <<include "thesimulacrum">>

"I am not permitted to say," the simulacrum says. "I can only tell you that if you successfully reach the end, you will uncover a key that will unlock this spell and secure your release." <<include "thesimulacrum">>

"No," the simulacrum answers flatly. "Though the labyrinth is not without its dangers." "What does that mean?" you ask. The simulacrum doesn't answer. <<include "thesimulacrum">>

"Then you will be left here to molder," the simulacrum says. "But you won't attack us?" Chandry asks then, his tone anxious. "You won't fill the room with water… or snakes?" "Don't give it ideas," Riel says tartly, but the simulacrum replies, "No. You will be left to your confinement in peace. However, do not hope for rescue. Part of this room's security measures include its removal from the geography of the tower. No one can find you now." "What do you mean, removal from the tower's geography?" Shery asks, furrowing her brow as she adjusts her spectacles. "On the outside, the door is no longer there," the simulacrum says, its tone neutral. "And if someone were to smash through the wall, they would find nothing but empty space. This room has been plucked from the tower's spatial topography like an apple is pulled from a branch." You quell the urge to roll your eyes. More esoteric, serpentine magic that you couldn't possibly hope to understand. <<include "thesimulacrum">>

"Nothing at all," the simulacrum answers indifferently. "Though I do not feel pain, so if you act on the mere compulsion towards vengeance, it will not be a very satisfying effort. And if you hope to dispel the spells that are keeping you here, consider that I am only one element of a large and complex network. A mouthpiece and guide, perhaps, but not the main engine that powers the particular web of abjurations protecting this room. Destroying me would accomplish nothing in terms of your escape." <<include "thesimulacrum">>

You turn to the others. "Well? What do we think?" "Let us consider our options," Riel says, folding his arms. Chandry looks around vaguely and decides to take a seat on the floor, as if sensing this will be a long conversation. "One: we decide to enter the labyrinth and undertake these trials. In the best-case scenario, we pass them, escaping this place unscathed. Advantages: I would like to believe that the trials would not be so difficult or impossible so as to be insurmountable, if they were <i>ever</i> intended to be realistic security measures for the tower. A party with our skill level"—he carefully doesn't cast a look at the others, but a slight tightening of his jaw tells you his hesitation—"shouldn't have too much trouble. Considerations: I worry when I hear that this creation is a <i>failed</i> experiment. That means my assumptions could be completely off-the-mark, and the student who created this whole sordid system was unhinged, and their project was rightfully abandoned for a reason." "So that would be the worst-case scenario of that path," Shery murmurs. "Two: we undergo the trials, but fail them." Riel nods. <<nobr>><<if $sim2 is true>> "Now, if the spell can be at all trusted, nothing in there can physically <i>kill</i> us, which is yet another consideration. But there are also far worse things than death." He shakes his head. <</if>><</nobr>> "But let us entertain the likeliest outcome of that scenario: we fail, but we aren't harmed, merely deposited back in this room and left to our original punishment, which is to die slowly of dehydration. <i>If that outcome is true</i>, there is not much to be lost by trying. However…" "However, the additional result of failing the trials is that the Vaults are lost forever," you finish grimly. "To both us <i>and</i> everyone else in the tower." "Very extreme measures," Chandry laments from the ground, shaking his head. "As a security protocol, it makes a thin modicum of sense," Riel comments dryly. "If we fail the trials, we have proven that we are unworthy of the tower and its secrets. By proxy, that means the people who admitted us to this place must also be unworthy of guarding it, since they let us have access; so their access must also be revoked now that their judgment is in question. Additionally, on the off-chance we should escape, the only way to ensure that we don't get our hands on the artifacts down here again is if they're sealed away from <i>everybody</i>, not just us." "I'm not sure if I like the risk," Shery comments, her tone nervous. "It would be such a blow to the Order if we had the Vaults sealed away for the next one hundred years!" "I'm not sure if I agree," Riel says, his tone a bit gentler as he addresses her, though no less businesslike. "The Vaults have always made for interesting historical explorations, Shery, but they hardly comprise of the backbone of the Order. At best, they are bonuses to what we have built for ourselves, auxiliary or supplementary prizes—but not much would change even if we were to somehow lose them." Shery bites her lip a little, then glances at you. <<nobr>><<if ($sheryromanceflag gte 10 and $sheryharden gt 1) or ($shery gte 70 and $sheryharden gt 1)>> At your encouraging nod, she takes a breath and says, "That's because I've only managed to pick through two vaults. But there are <i>dozens</i> of them beneath the tower, if not hundreds, and Archmage Tangriel was a powerful magic-user. There's no telling what kinds of artifacts or tools—even weapons—he might have stored down here." <br><br> "Or this might have been a personal cellar, a place for him to store his miscellany and junk," Riel retorts, unfazed. "I agree with you: there have been some useful items found down here so far, but we can't know definitively what else lies in the other vaults. It could be that the rest of them are filled with old bedding, or his private collection of nude paintings, and he hid his true treasures elsewhere." <br><br> "But if that's true, the simulacrum wouldn't bother sealing the other vaults away, would it?" you point out. <br><br> Riel shakes his head impatiently. "It's an experiment, a student's unfinished exercise. It can't gauge the true value of what lies in the Vaults at large: it was only instructed to guard them blindly, as that was the intended purpose for its creation. But we can't take its protectiveness as proof of anything." <br><br> Shery sighs unhappily. "Still… If it's at all possible, I'd like to avoid risking that loss if we can help it." <<else>> Ultimately, however, she chooses to say nothing. <</if>><</nobr>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "sothen8what">><</link>></center>

"So then, what are our <i>other </i>options?" you ask. You tick off your fingers. "Three: we refuse to do the trials, sit here, and do nothing." "And if the simulacrum speaks the truth, this is the least productive option," Riel says. "If outside rescue really has no way of finding us, there's no point in simply waiting." You tick off another finger. "Four: we refuse to do the trials and try to escape this place on our own." Chandry looks hopefully from face to face, craning his neck up from his cross-legged position on the floor. "Is such recourse within our reach? I have heard you are a powerful Mage, Shepherd <<c surname>>. You're the Hero of Haven, after all." You sigh, running a hand through your hair. "The way I see it," you say, thinking aloud, "I can't undo the spells protecting this place—even just this chamber—by myself. Not even all of the Circle-Mages combined have been able to figure much of the tower's main defenses out, let alone this particular… unorthodox little experiment. It's like looking at a tapestry comprised of a million complex, overlapping threads, all made of a substance and woven in a design completely alien to you. There is absolutely no way I could untangle that pattern on my own." "Is there any way we could help?" Shery asks earnestly. You blow out a breath, shaking your head. "I don't think so. Generally, only a Mage could pull off such a task. You'd have to be able to sense it, to help me manipulate it. Like when Red or Briony and I work on a large spell in tandem. It's not something that you can really talk through." "What about Mimir?" Shery turns to the Seer, who is making herself comfortable on the floor again as well. "She has magic of a sort, doesn't she?" "Not that kind," Mimir replies impassively after a significant pause, as if she's waiting for someone else to finish speaking. "My powers only allow me to see visions of the future, not spellwork and runes and wards. In that regard, I'm no more capable of wielding magic than you are." You nod, having expected this. "So it's left to just me. And when you're trying to undo someone else's spell, you're hoping to pull on a single thread and unravel the whole thing neatly. But that's not possible in this situation: this magic is so old and unusual, and it's had so long to take root in this place, that even trying to find a single loose end could take weeks, if not months or years." You pace in a tight circle, clasping your hands in thought. "What I <i>could</i> attempt is punching a hole through the tapestry altogether—brute-forcing it rather than relying on subtlety and finesse, so to speak. If I forcibly break through these spells and shatter them, we <i>should</i> be able to connect back to the tower." "However, like punching a hole through a tapestry, you have no idea what other threads you'll end up damaging along the way," Riel finishes pensively. "You could trigger some sort of domino effect and wind up weakening the tower's defenses overall, forming a vulnerability where there wasn't one before. Without knowing how everything connects and overlaps with each other, we have no way of telling what making that hole would do." "<i>If</i> I could even brute-force it to begin with," you add. You have a sudden flashback to Heth Macoll, and what happened with Thumma. <<nobr>><<if $thummadead is true>> How you ultimately had to kill her in order to make the wards guarding the arena drop… <<elseif $thummasaved is true>> If things had gone another way, you might have been forced to kill her in order to drop the wards that were keeping you imprisoned. <</if>><</nobr>> <<nobr>><<if $possessed is false>>"Though I suppose if I wasn't strong enough on my own, I could always…" And you make an expressive, trailing-off kind of shrug. <br><br> Riel and Shery's eyes slide towards Chandry, who currently seems to be interested in examining his shoelaces. It's clear they know you're referring to the Words of Power. <br><br> "I am loath to waste such a valuable asset on a situation like this," Riel admits, drumming his fingers consideringly against the head of his walking cane. "But they are yours to use, so I won't stop you if you decide that's what's best. But I would strongly advise you to hold off until we try everything else we can." <br><br> "As would I," Shery says softly. "We can find another way out of here. And I don't think that—" Again her gaze flickers to Chandry, and she bites her lip. "I don't think that the <i>source of your assets</i> would want you to use them on… something like this." <br><br> Chandry looks up, musingly. <<nobr>><<if $gender is "female">> "Assets?" he echoes. "Are you talking about your…" And he cups his hands in front of his chest and makes an expressive juggling motion, completely straight-faced. <<else>> "If you are trying to avoid telling a secret in front of me," he says, "you oughtn't worry. My skull is full of nothing but warm spring air and butterflies. I retain nothing of worth." <</if>><</nobr>> <br><br> That gets a snort of surprised laughter out of you, if only for a moment; Shery giggles nervously. <br><br> But Riel, looking unimpressed by Chandry's antics, says brusquely, "What about translocation?" <<else>> <br><br> "What about translocation?" Riel asks. <</if>><</nobr>> You sober and shake your head. You'd already thought of that. "No good. Whatever's sealing us inside the room is preventing translocation in or out; and even if it weren't, I'm not sure I'd risk it anyway. Seems like dangerous business, trying to teleport from a place that's been 'removed from the spatial topography' of the building and placed somewhere completely unknown—possibly even a pocket dimension. Without the correct preparation or an anchor, there's no telling what effects translocation would have." Riel sighs. "So we're left with only those few options, then." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "stand8anddebate">><</link>></center>

You stand and debate the matter over for a while longer, but in the end, the central arguments remain the same. When asked for his opinion on what course you should take, Chandry merely says cheerfully, "I'll do whatever you decide is best, Shepherd friends. I am a mere civilian; I defer to your excellent and expert opinions." Mimir, who has again lapsed into meditative silence, suddenly turns to you and says firmly, "We must go into the labyrinth. It's very, very important." You turn to her with a quizzical look. "How so?" Mimir frowns and closes her eyes, as if trying to search her memory. "I don't know," she says in a strained voice. "But it has something to do with the way out, the exit that will be shown to us at the end. It's important that we find it." Hmm. Shery turns to you, her long eyelashes tangling with her bangs as she says in a worried voice, "Well… what do you think we should do, <<c firstname>>?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I think we should enter the labyrinth and attempt the trials."' 'trials'>><<setriel +3>><<setcourage +3>><</link>></li> <<if ($arcane gte 80 and $magic gte 90) or ($specialization is "binder" and $setarcane gte 70) and $democomplete is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I think I should punch through the wards myself."</div>' 'trials'>><<setshery +3>><<setintelligence +3>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">"I think I should punch through the wards myself."</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $godspeaker gt 1 and $democomplete is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I think I\'ll use a Word of Power to get us out of here."</div>' 'trials'>><<setintelligence -3>><<setcourage -3>><<setriel -3>><<setfaith -3>><<set $godspeaker -= 1>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">"I think I\'ll use a Word of Power to get us out of here."</div>'>><</link>><</if>> </ul>

Riel nods, though he looks grave as he says, "I concur. Though, in the interest of clarity, let us be blunt on what we're all getting ourselves into. <<c firstname>> is the only trained combatant among us, and $she <<nobr>><<if $plural is true>> have <<else>> has <</if>><</nobr>> no weapons. Shery, Mimir, and I have no experience in the field whatsoever, nor any particularly useful fighting skills. And Chandry is a civilian." "Ah, but I am an excellent swordsman, my friend!" Chandry cries. "Place the hilt of a rapier in my hand, and I am become death itself!" <<nobr>><<if $rielromanceflag gte 20 or $riel gte 75>> Riel gives you such a flat, dead-eyed look that you have to stifle a laugh behind your hand. <<else>> Riel briefly turns his eyes heavenward. <</if>><</nobr>> "Noted," he says, addressing the clown in a strained voice. "But seeing as there are no rapiers at hand, we should be extremely wary about whatever we encounter inside the labyrinth; and we must do whatever we can to maintain our focus and keep pace with <<c rank>> <<c surname>>. <<c firstname>>, I am sorry to say that you'll shoulder most of the burden of keeping us safe, at least in a high-risk situation." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Don\'t worry. You\'ll be in good hands."' 'dont8worry'>><<setcourage +1>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setshery +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Eh, I\'m used to it."' 'eh8im'>><<setriel -3>><<setshery -3>><<setcharisma -3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"That\'s right. And when we\'re in the field, you do whatever I say without question."' 'thats8right'>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setriel -3>><</link>></li> <<if $charisma gte 70 and $compassionate gte 60>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Don\'t undersell yourselves. With your intelligence, Shery\'s resourcefulness, Mimir\'s foresight, and Chandry\'s creativity, I think we can tackle anything that comes our way."</div>' 'dont8undersell'>><<setriel +3>><<setshery +3>><<setcharisma +3>><<setcompassionate +5>><<if $gender is "female">><<set $sheryromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">"Don\'t undersell yourselves. With your intelligence, Shery\'s resourcefulness, Mimir\'s foresight, and Chandry\'s creativity, I think we can tackle anything that comes our way."</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $rielromanceflag gte 25 and $gender is "male">><li><<link '"I think you\'ll like having me around to protect you." <b>[FLIRT]</b>' 'meto8protect'>><<set $rielromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li><</if>> </ul>

Riel inclines his head, and Chandry chirps, "I don't doubt it, my Shepherd friend! We shall be the lambs to your royal shepherdness!" He looks around brightly. "Shall we set off into the labyrinth, then? I am nearly beside myself with curiosity!" <<include "shery8suddenly">>

Riel frowns, and Shery looks self-conscious. Chandry chimes in, oblivious: "Shall we set off, then?" <<include "shery8suddenly">>

Riel inclines his head formally, deferring to you, though something in his eyes flickers with annoyance. Shery nods anxiously, and Chandry snaps into a smart salute and says, "Aye-aye, <<c rank>>! Shall we set off, then?" <<include "shery8suddenly">>

Riel inclines his head with a slight smile. "Very inspirational," he says dryly. <<nobr>><<if $rank is "Commander">> "The Commander-Legate shows $her quality." <<else>> "The Hero of Haven shows $her quality." <</if>><</nobr>> "Shall we go, then?" Chandry asks, practically vibrating with excitement. "I am nearly beside myself with curiosity!" <<include "shery8suddenly">>

The corners of Riel's mouth twitch upwards in just the barest smirk before he clears his throat and looks away, keeping his tone light and professional. "I'd prefer the exchange to be more <i>equivalent</i>, but it seems I have no choice in the matter." "I think I can come up with ways for you to pay me back," you note salaciously. Riel inclines his head, his expression carefully measured but the glint in his eyes slightly wicked. "Name your price, and I will be happy to compensate you for the trouble." Chandry's head has been swiveling back and forth between the two of you like he's the avid spectator of a kaibok match. When you both fall silent, holding each other's gazes and smirking crookedly at each other, he clears his throat and says in a chipper voice, "Shall we proceed, then?" <<include "shery8suddenly">>

Shery suddenly straightens. "Oh, please wait a moment!" She turns in a whirl of pleated skirts and dives into one of the boxes she was using when you were sorting through items earlier. "I didn't see any weapons or anything like that, but maybe this could be useful—" She rises again, clutching an old, cloudy bottle about the length of her hand. It's lined with chalky residue and unappetizing calcium deposits, but you think you can make out a syrupy brown liquid inside and a grimy label that reads "Anti-Love Potion." You frown. "What does an 'Anti-Love Potion' even do? Make you hate someone?" "You wouldn't drink that, would you?" Riel adds, sounding genuinely appalled. "Shery, it's hundreds of years old. You'd almost certainly get sick." The quartermaster flushes. "Well, it was the only thing that seemed like it could be remotely helpful," she stammers. "Even if I don't know quite what it does… It couldn't hurt to bring it along just in case, would it?" You glance at each other, then shrug. "I suppose not." So she puts the bottle into a burlap sack along with a few other trinkets. You turn back to the waiting simulacrum, hovering patiently in the air as a kind of pale cerulean column of flame, and take a breath. "We're going to enter the labyrinth and attempt the trials." "Very well," it intones. Behind it, a doorway appears, the edges flaring with light before solidifying in the wall opposite of where the original entrance to the room once stood. You take another breath and look around to make sure everyone else is ready: Riel looks gravely resolute, Shery apprehensive but tentatively determined, Mimir calmly unruffled, and Chandry eager and blithely intrigued. You cautiously approach the newly-formed door. The knob is as cold as ice under your hand, and when you turn it, you step forward into a long, dark corridor that makes your skin tingle as you pass over the threshold, almost as if you're passing into a bank of fog. You have the momentary, suspended sensation of sliding sideways even as you move forward, and then… You're outside. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "yourestanding8dewy">><</link>></center>

You're standing in a dewy field, your breath steaming in the pearly light of dawn as distant birds chirrup and pipe to each other in thin, bright voices. You seem to be standing on the outskirts of a city full of soaring bell-towers and twisted nacreous spires that glow like iridescent unicorn horns: the skyline looks both vaguely familiar and completely foreign to you. On the horizon to your right, the morning sky is tinged the color of peaches and cream; the sun hasn't fully shown its face from between the strange buildings yet. You're surprised to find yourself crammed at the back of a crowd of people, all of them dressed in strange, colorful robes with trailing sleeves, their ears sparking with glittering ear-drops and dangling pieces of gold. There are at least twenty of them, many of them grumbling, blowing into their hands, and stamping their boots on the slick, soft grass in an attempt to generate warmth against the morning chill. One of them, a swarthy-skinned, impatient-looking young man with a short improbable beard, complains, "Those Armalenthieh Mages. Are they always this late?" "They've always been an odd bunch," someone else grumbles. The bearded young man looks around, spots you, does a double-take, and cries, "There they are! Why didn't you <i>say</i> you'd gotten here?" There are various exclamations of surprise as others in the group turn to face you. You hear someone ask, "Did they translocate? I didn't feel them get here," and someone else says in a scandalized voice, "Look at the state of them! Is that a <i>clown</i>?" The young man—who seems to be the de-facto leader of the group—clasps his hands, muttering a quick incantation before a far-speaking node of emerald light pops into existence before him. He says into it, "It's all right, <i>sieur</i>, the delegation from Armalenthieh is here after all," before he lets it dwindle into nothing again. Then he appraises you with a disapproving frown and says, "You're late. Didn't they tell you to come a half-hour early to account for the prince? And what are you <i>wearing</i>? Don't you know you have to come skyclad for official workings?" You're taken aback; this has the disorientating feeling of being in a dream where you're caught unprepared for an important exam, or where everyone is staring at you for being naked in public. "Er…" The bearded young man grimaces. "Never mind; I suppose it doesn't matter so long as you stay out of the salt line." Someone else, a dark-skinned woman with arresting golden eyes, says, "Wait a moment, are some of you <i>Norm</i>? They're not even all Mages! What's going on here?" Riel clears his throat lightly behind you; Shery looks absolutely petrified. You try and think fast. <ul class="choices"> <<if ($intelligence gte 50 and $cunning gte 70) and $charisma gte 65>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"It\'s a new method we\'re testing out. Have only one head Mage while the assistants help in other ways."</div>' 'new8method'>><<setintelligence +3>><<setcunning +3>><<setcharisma +3>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">"It\'s a new method we\'re testing out. Have only one head Mage while the assistants help in other ways."</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link '"I think my associate here can better articulate what\'s going on." Nod at Riel.' 'ithink8my'>><<setriel +3>><<if $gender is "male">><<set $rielromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I think my associate explains this part better than I can." Nod at Shery.' 'thinkmy8associate'>><<setshery -3>><<setriel -3>><<setcunning -3>><<setcharisma -3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I think my associate always knows what to say in situations like these." Nod at Mimir.' 'nod8atmimir'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I think my associate is the one you want to ask." Nod at Chandry.' 'nodat8chandry'>><<setriel -3>><</link>></li> </ul>

The bearded young man makes an incredulous noise, looking around at his peers, who look just as baffled as he does. However, they seem to be in a rush—at least enough to buy your story for the moment. "Well, all right," he says doubtfully. "So long as it doesn't interfere with the warding, I suppose it doesn't matter how you handle your sector." <<include "without8much">>

"It's a new method that we've been refining at the school," Riel says evenly, able to deal lies as smooth as butter. "Having one head Mage to act as a focus while the other assistants—non-Mages—lend their energies as mere conduits. It prevents spells from becoming meddled by too many consciousnesses, while maintaining the maximum output of power." The bearded young man looks mystified, but at least he buys the story. "I've never heard of the like," he says wonderingly. "But you Armalenthieh Mages are always pushing boundaries." He shrugs. "Well, so long as it doesn't interfere with the warding, I suppose it doesn't matter how you handle your sector." <<include "without8much">>

"Oh!" Shery starts, clearly taken off-guard by your sudden deferral to her. "Um… I…" "It's a new method that we've been refining at the school," Riel cuts in evenly, able to deal lies as smooth as butter. "Having one head Mage to act as a focus while the other assistants—non-Mages—lend their energies as mere conduits. It prevents spells from becoming meddled by too many consciousnesses while maintaining the maximum output of power." The bearded young man looks mystified, but at least he buys the story. "I've never heard of the like," he says wonderingly. "But you Armalenthieh Mages are always pushing boundaries." He shrugs. "Well, so long as it doesn't interfere with the warding, I suppose it doesn't matter how you handle your sector." Shery visibly sags with relief as he turns away. <<include "without8much">>

She stares evenly at the bearded young man. "It doesn't matter what you think. How we conduct our work is no business of yours." There's a stirring of discontent in the group, but the bearded young man backs off—for now. "Whatever you say," he mutters to himself. "So long as it doesn't interfere with the warding, it doesn't matter how you handle your sector. But if you screw it up for the rest of us, I'll be going straight to the Archmage with your names." <<include "without8much">>

The clown sweeps a flourishing bow. "Our methods are far beyond your comprehension, mortal!" he shouts. "Turn your eyes away from us and instead turn your gaze inward to your own heart!" The bearded young man darts a startled look at you, recoiling from Chandry slightly. Riel intones from behind you: "He's a powerful mystic, but his mind has been addled by years of peering into the void. He's an effective craftsman, but I would keep your distance." "Well, so long as it doesn't interfere with the warding, I suppose it doesn't matter how you handle your sector," the young man mutters, backing away. "But if things go awry, I'll be going straight to the Archmage with your names." <<include "without8much">>

<<nobr>><<if settings.music is true>><<audio "magus" volume 0 fadeoverto 30 0.1>><</if>><</nobr>>Without much more ado, the group of you head off towards the city without any explanation: you're clearly supposed to have been briefed on whatever it is you're supposed to be doing. There's not much time to focus on anything as you try to contextualize what you're seeing: the people around you—all relatively young, all clearly Mages, all dressed in some kind of traditional garb—chatter lightly amongst each other, and it seems that they're split into four different groups, with your group being the fifth. Within these groups, they all seem to know each other, and they rarely address anyone outside of their own unit, so it's not unusual when Riel pulls up alongside you and leans in to speak into your ear. "We're in some trouble, I think," he says quietly. You shake your head, peering around as you make your way through a large, gold-wrought city gate and into the city proper. Shining white cobblestone lanes stretch out before you, adorned with intricate towers and buildings so embellished with incredible stonework that they look covered in lacy, delicate frosting. It's a beautiful place, almost like a city out of a fairytale. "Where are we?" Riel looks grim. "You don't recognize these streets? No, I suppose no one feasibly would; they look quite different now. This is Haven, though I suspect these people would still refer to it as the grand capital of Magus." You try not to gawk up at the unfamiliar towers. The white stonework and general aesthetic is correct, and the tilt of the slope—you're somewhere in the Market Quarter, from the feel of it—is vaguely familiar, but it all looks so… well-maintained. Vibrant. New. "But…" "Armalenthieh was the name of the Mage university in Calta, the city on the Eastern coast near Thielwood," he continues in an undertone, his blue eyes wary as he scans the surrounding group for anyone who could be eavesdropping. "But it hasn't existed since the Castigation, of course. These people were clearly expecting a delegation of Caltan Mages to participate in some kind of coordinated spell or ritual, and they assume <i>we</i> are those Mages. I think they must all the students, assigned to perform some special task as… an ambassadorial or peace effort, something to that effect. And they're clearly comfortable with the idea of wielding magic in public. So if that's true, that means the Castigation hasn't happened." "And the labyrinth didn't just lead to a different place," you finish, realizing. "It's brought us to another <i>time</i>. A specific point in the past." "It would seem so," Riel says seriously. "And if that's true, that means our trial has just become vastly more complicated." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "onyourother8side">><</link>></center>

<<set $lit to false>>On your other side, Shery catches your elbow with the most delicate, feather-light grip. "What's going on?" she whispers in a worried voice. But before you can answer, the bearded young man at the head of your group calls back a warning. "All right. We'll have twenty minutes before His Royal Highness's entourage arrives. The arena needs to be completely secured by then, so no pfaffing about." "Thanks very much, Belisaere," someone else sneers—the golden-eyed woman who'd pointed out that the rest of your team are Norms. "And who died and put you in charge, again?" The young man's response is stiff and contemptuous. "When you lot manage to hire an instructor higher than the rank of red robe, Pyrra, then <i>you</i> can lead the proceedings." The young woman scowls dangerously. <<nobr>><<if $intelligence gte 70>> These aren't surnames or given names they're using, you realize, but school names, the recognition of them dredged up from the distant annals of your memory. Each of these different teams of five seem to be delegations from a separate Mage academy, brought together to work some sort of group spell. <<else>> From Riel's keen-eyed look, these names seem to mean something, but what that is, you're not quite sure. <</if>><</nobr>> Someone else behinds you swears softly. "Narthax, Althea, and Tapyt! They're not leaving us a lot of time, are they?" "It's a preliminary test," one of his companions hisses. "We're the best twenty-five out of this year's crop of candidates. And if we can't complete the spell in the allotted time, we certainly don't deserve admission to Saenreth, or to study under Archmage Tangriel." "And this is just the opening ceremony," someone else adds. "The actual trials haven't even begun." You look back and catch your companions' eyes at the sound of Tangriel's name. Shery's mouth hangs open in a small pink 'o' of shock; Riel's pale brow forms a deep furrow; Mimir looks as distantly preoccupied as ever; and Chandry looks distinctly nervous, perhaps for the first time since you've made his acquaintance. It's clear they're starting to put together a little of what's going on. As you move at a brisk pace down the white stone avenues—alien, but also unsettlingly familiar, as if you've visited an approximation of them before in a dream—you begin to hear the distant roar and rumble of a massive gathered crowd. Soon enough, a magnificent circular arena rises above the nearby rooftops, standing several stories tall, and this is a structure that you actually recognize. Although the rich travertine has faded to a dull pink in your time, this round amphitheater still exists as Thule Arena, the site of popular sporting events and jousting tournaments throughout the year. From the sounds of it, its seats are currently crammed with cheering, animated spectators. Your stomach drops at the thought. Your column of Mages hustles into the arena; you glance up at the building's top, which is draped with many colorful pennants bearing the insignias of different colleges, coalitions, guilds, and schools like graceful swoops of icing on a cake. As you pass under the shadow of the wide entrance, the roar of the crowd somewhere above you is absolutely deafening. Then you're emerging back into the brightening, glassy sunlight and hurrying onto a field of perfect dew-laden grass, which looks to be several acres wide. Rows upon rows of blurred faces stare at you from the arena's high seats. You think you can hear Shery hyperventilating quietly somewhere behind you. Chandry says soothingly, "Brace up, Miss Acquell, think of it only as a performance! You are an actress in a play, nothing more!" and you think she whispers back: "But I can't act for the life of me! <i>I have stage fright</i>!" Then the bearded Mage from Belisaere calls back, "That way's due north," and suddenly you're all rushing together towards the northern end of the field. When you come to a stop, the bearded Mage makes a sharp, horizontal zipping motion in the air, and an array of shining objects abruptly pops into existence in front of him. He catches them easily and shoves them into the hands of a Mage from each delegation, jamming what looks to be a golden candlestick and an elegant glass bottle of water into your hands and saying, "Ready runed," as if that makes any sense at all. Then everyone holding an object lifts it into the air and gabbles an incantation together. The bearded man holds up a short sword: it begins to glow and hum with light as he chants. The woman from Pyrra holds aloft a golden set of scales that also begin to glow; another young man holds a string of small golden bells, jingling them aggressively; and the last Mage besides you clutches what looks like a tall, straight sprig of wolfsbane, which shivers and begins to unfurl right before your very eyes as a result of xer feverish muttering. You look around and catch Riel looking at you; he motions impatiently, as if to say, <i>Fake it!</i> <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Hold the candle high and pretend to mumble an incantation, secretly lighting its flame with your own spell.' 'holdthe8candle'>><<setintelligence +1>><<setcunning +1>><<setriel +1>><<set $lit to true>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Hold the bottle of water up and pretend to say an incantation, opening the top and dabbing some on your forehead.' 'holdthe8bottle'>><<setintelligence -3>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Close your eyes as if in prayer and hope none of them notice that you\'re not doing anything.' 'closeyour8eyes'>><<setcunning -3>><<setriel -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

You murmur some nonsense words as you secretly like the wick of your candle with the briefest spark of magic. If anyone around you notices anything unusual, they give no sign. <<include "thenthe8mage">>

An amber-skinned Mage with bright, fierce green eyes and a scarlet robe gasps beside you. "What are you doing?" he hisses, yanking your arm back down. "We need that to make the leyline!" The other Mages turn and stare at you, lips pursed in disapproval as you lower the bottle sheepishly. Someone mutters, "First they're late, and now they can't even do a straightforward rhabdomantic abjuration." <<include "thenthe8mage">>

You earn a few disapproving frowns and head shakes, but no one makes an outright comment about your lack of action. Perhaps there's still a way to salvage this whole affair. <<include "thenthe8mage">>

Then the Mage from Belisaere is splitting the group up, dispatching them towards different ends of the field. "We'll hold north because it's the most dangerous," he says, referring to his own group: now they're all holding swords, looking both focused and remote, some of the blades sharp and glittering while others wobble as if they're made of taffy. The group with the scales is directed to the southern part of the field, the group with the bells to the east. The Mage who was holding the wolfsbane has now made it sprout into a thin, woody-looking wand or scepter, with a livid purple flower crowning the thick mess of vines at the top; xer group goes west. Magic pours off of all of them in waves, as strong and pronounced as the smell of metal and sweat, almost so potent that your head seems to sway and you almost feel faint from the dizzy, golden sense of power emanating from all around you. The Mage from Belisaere wheels towards you and says crisply, "And now you go back to the entrance to connect the lines." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Stare at him blankly. "...What?"' 'lachranlol'>><<setintelligence -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Remain polite. "I\'m not familiar with this kind of magic. Could you explain more clearly what I\'m supposed to do?"' 'lachranlol'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Look down your nose at him. "I know that. Do you think I\'m an idiot?"' 'look8down'>><<setcourage +1>><<setcompassionate -1>><<setcharisma -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

The Mage's eyes bulge comedically. "What kinds of things are they teaching you in Calta? You weren't prepped on how to do this?" <<include "itis8because">>

However, he doesn't seem to believe you fully, <<nobr>><<if $lit is false>> glancing at your unlit candle with narrowed eyes. "But you haven't even lit your liminal gnosis. What kinds of things are they even teaching you in Calta, anyway?" <<else>> glancing at your clothes with narrowed eyes. "But how are you going to gather oneiric energies wearing that? What kinds of things are they even teaching you in Calta, anyway?" <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "itis8because">>

"It is because we in Armalenthieh utterly despise this kind of boring, mass-produced magic!" Chandry bursts out suddenly, making the bearded Mage take an involuntary step back. The clown has drawn himself to his full, theatrical height, which is actually surprisingly imposing, outstripping the other man by a full head. He shakes a gloved finger under the Mage's nose and continues, in a projecting, strident voice of utmost authority: "We in Calta are revolutionaries, artists and pirates! This kind of magic is ridiculous to us, utterly bland and inane textbook drivel! We have dispensed with it and moved to greater innovations, far beyond what your lowly mind could even conceive! But if you must force us to work within your parameters, so be it! Only get on with it and tell us what we must do!" The bearded Mage from Belisaere looks quite shocked. Shery is covering her face in utter mortification. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Pat Chandry on the shoulder weakly. "That\'ll do, Chandry... that\'ll do."' 'the8bearded'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Puff your chest up in agreement. "Right! What he said!"' 'the8bearded'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Raise your eyebrow in pointed silence at the Mage, waiting for an answer.' 'the8bearded'>><</link>></li> </ul>

The bearded Mage closes his mouth, opens it again, then shakes his head and says with a tone of faint disbelief: "Sprinkle the water from this point all the way back to the entrance we first came through. Make sure the water crosses over the salt line." He points out an enormous runed circle, sketched out in salt and other glittering powders, that encircles the whole of the field you're standing in as well as all of the Mages presently at work within it. "When you get back to the arena entrance, weave your magic into the group working, then spin some of it out. Make it take the shapes of the animals that represent everyone in your group. Those will be the thelemic guardians of the entrance, working in tandem with the guardians that everyone else forms and anchors to their parts of the circle." He glances up at the pearly sky. "Better hurry, too. We need to have all of the guardians in place before His Highness enters the arena." Then, before you can say anything else, he turns his back on you and joins his comrades in their casting, closing his eyes and seeming to shut out the external world entirely. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "the8beardedi">><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<if settings.music is true>><<audio ":playing" fadeout>><</if>><</nobr>>Feeling a bit hapless, you do as the bearded Mage said, jogging back in the direction you came—Riel curses quietly under his breath at all of the running—while sprinkling water from your glass bottle over the ground, stepping carefully over the circle of salt when you reach it and heading back under the massive covered archway that marks the arena's main entrance. It's thankfully empty—probably cleared out so you could perform this spell—and you're sheltered from both the gazes of the audience and the other Mages as you turn back to your companions, saying in a strained voice: "I didn't have the faintest idea of what he was talking about." "We can muddle through," Riel says, with such utter confidence and calm that he seems to clamp it over any possibility of rising panic amidst the group. "The key here is that you <i>can</i> work magic: it might not be their kind of magic, but if you can uphold your end of the spell, they should be satisfied without examining how you did it too closely." "I… I think I might be able to help," Shery murmurs softly, fidgeting with one of the over-long sleeves of her sweater. "I've read so many books in the Vaults th-that—maybe I could remember something useful to guide you…" She trails off, sounding unsure, but then again, the quartermaster always seems a little unsure. "What about the Seer?" Chandry chimes in then, his voice gentle and striving to be helpful. He nods at Mimir, who's frowning to herself. "Couldn't she simply tell you which method holds success?" "It doesn't work like that," you and Riel begin to tell him—but then you catch the strange look on Mimir's face. "What is it, Mimir?" The Seer is shaking her head slowly, her black tresses shifting like a living tangle underneath her opaque veil. "I can't see the futures of anybody here, except for yours," she says quietly, her voice almost wondering and awed. Her brow is creased with a concentration you haven't seen much of before. "For the four of you, I can still see the visions, the ghosts, as clear as day. But everyone else…" She makes a vague, shaky gesture. "There's nothing. My sight is so clear. I've never seen anything like it." "What could that mean?" Shery asks nervously. "If our assumptions are correct, this labyrinth has led us back to the past," Riel says, tapping his cane decisively against the ground. "Specifically, to the time when Archmage Tangriel was still alive. Depending on how old he is at this moment, that means we're anywhere from six hundred to eight hundred years in the past: I'll know more when I hear other context clues. But, regardless—all of these people's fates have already been set in stone. They're already long dead in our time. Perhaps that's why Mimir's powers don't work on them. They don't have a future she can scan in a way that her mind can process: it's a predetermined timeline, in a way, unlike our present, which still has yet to be shaped… at least for her." Then he frowns, placing an elegant gloved hand against his chin. "Or perhaps there's some other reason for it. But we'll have time to ponder that later." "Well, because my vision is so clear and my mind isn't so crowded with other people's futures, maybe I can try to look more specifically at <<c firstname>>'s," Mimir says, rubbing her eyes as if in a daze. "More than I could before. But I might only be able to tell <i>if</i> we succeed at this spell—not <i>how</i> we do it. I don't know." "Well, whatever we try, we should do it quickly," Riel says, his voice a bit tart. "Apparently some prince will be arriving at the arena very shortly, presumably to preside as the guest of honor for this event, and we need to complete our part in the spell before he does." "They said that we were chosen to help conduct this spell because we were the best out of a group of candidates," Chandry butts in, scratching his colorful head. "And if we succeed, we'll gain admission to something called Saenreth?" "That was the original name of Archmage Tangriel's magical college, I think," Shery answers, breathless with excitement. "The one he held in his tower—the very same tower that would later become our Shepherds' compound. This must be a—some sort of evaluation or test, or perhaps a competition, to determine who's worthy of entering the tower and attaining the rare privilege of studying under him. <<c firstname>> and I were just talking about this!" She shakes her head. "So then this must be the trial of the labyrinth. If we can pass whatever tests await us and gain admission to the Archmage's school, then surely the simulacrum will judge us worthy of being in the tower in <i>our</i> time, and it will grant us a way out of the Vaults and back home. That must be why it sent us here!" Riel checks his sleek gold pocket watch. "Then let us do our best to complete this spell," he says again. "If we fumble this first step, it will be that much harder for us to overcome the next tests, especially without arousing suspicion." He flicks his watch shut in one smooth, efficient motion, tucking it away into his pocket. "So. This seems to be some kind of protective spell, aimed at creating a circle of security around the arena. And it involves creating some sort of defense line of 'thelemic guardians,' or magic projected and personified in the shape of animals. How can we—or more to the point, <<c firstname>>—accomplish that?" You shake your head again. "Like I said, this is unlike any magic I've ever encountered before. I can try to insert my own power into their spell, but without knowing what I'm doing, it's going to look like a child contributing to a master painter's work with chalk and pastels. It'll be noticeable." "Perhaps one of these ladies can talk you through the process, then," Chandry says, gesturing to Shery and Mimir, who are both clearly trying to search their thoughts for anything helpful. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Ask Shery to use her knowledge to help guide you through the spell.' 'ask8shery'>><<fair_plus "$shery" +10>><<if $gender is "female">><<set $sheryromanceflag += 1>><</if>><<if $sheryharden gte 4>><<set $sheryharden += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Ask Mimir to use her powers to help guide you through the spell.' 'ask8mimir'>><<fair_plus "$mimir" +10>><<set $sheryharden -= 1>><</link>></li> </ul>

The quartermaster's eyes widen in surprise behind her spectacles, but then she takes a deep, steadying breath and seems to draw herself up, steeling her nerves. "R-right," she says, her voice a little stronger, though her hands tremble a little. "Well, he mentioned that we'd need to shape the guardians out of the collective magic being woven around the arena…" She furrows her brows, <<nobr>><<if $sheryromanceflag gte 15>> an adorable crease appearing above her spectacles. <<else>> thinking hard. <</if>><</nobr>> "That does ring a faint bell, but I don't know what to do about the candle." "Let's assume the candle matters little," Riel says briskly. "Esoterica and miscellany are often determined to be less useful as methods undergo refinement over time, and thus they are eventually dispensed with. What else do you remember?" Shery frowns, closing her eyes in concentration. "Well," she says slowly, "I remember that one of the old spellbooks said that the first step of any group spell is to 'align your Sight' with the others. Does that mean anything to you?" You frown. "Not in so many words, but… I suppose it means I have to link up with them in some way. Let me try something." You close your eyes and let the chatter and noise of the outside world fall away from you, dimming down into muffled stillness as if you'd dunked your head into dark water. You imagine yourself corkscrewing in place, your mind rotating without your head actually turning, your consciousness spinning up away from you and hovering over the group like a cloud. It's difficult to slip into this mode of perception, almost like trying to meditate or fall asleep in the middle of a party, but soon enough, you can see a striking turquoise circle in your mind's eye, hovering in the middle distance like a flat, illuminated disk. That must be the salt circle, you think, watching as it hums with dormant magical energy. And at each cardinal point of the disk there are tiny, flickering dots of white light, each clustered in groups of five, like candles arrayed on a chandelier. Those must be the other Mages. "I think I've done it," you hear yourself say out loud, still keeping your eyes closed. Even to your own ears, your voice sounds dreamy and faraway. "I can see the spell—the 'working'—anyway. I have to assume that's what it means to align my Sight." "It must be," Shery says, trying to sound encouraging. "Well, then the man said… I think now you have to… <i>add</i> your magic to it, somehow. I'm not really clear on the details of how to do that, but maybe if you can see it, you'll know what to do?" She's right. The points of light that represent the other Mages are pouring their power into the glowing turquoise disk: you can see the fine white filaments of their magic being pulled from them and circling slowly over the disk like yarn on a spindle. It's simple enough to slip your magic into that cord of energy, carefully spooling out your power and threading it into the joined spell as finely and delicately as if you were weaving a rope from individual fibers. Soon enough, your magic has seamlessly blended into the group's, and you're left observing a ceaseless stream of wispy cloud-like light, floating above the diagram of the circle and its occupants like a strange bank of fog. "I've done it," you say finally. "And now I have to create the guardians next. Do you know how to do that?" <<page_break "Next" "sheryhelpsyoulab">>

You can't see her, but you imagine Shery biting her lip in anxious thought. "Well," she says doubtfully, "I know the next immediate bit: you're supposed to pull a bit of the group's magic out—just a small portion of it—and have it in front of you. And then you're supposed to… to <i>massage</i> it, or something, shape it very delicately and gently, sort of patting it into place. You're supposed to give it the shape and form of whatever our guardian animals are, like… like sculpting a cloud. And they have to be whatever best represents each of us. But the only problem is…" She trails off uncertainly, and you hear Riel resume her train of thought. "The problem is," he says, "this part assumes that we're all Mages, and that we already know what our guardian spirits actually are. It assumes we are contributing equally to the spell, presumably as the result of some preparatory process. But if we have no way of turning our 'Sight' inward, lacking any magical ability whatsoever, how will we know what our guardian is?" He shakes his head. "My guess is that we were each supposed to work our own spell to look inside ourselves and find out before coming here, but clearly that's beyond our abilities. Unless you could look at us and see them for yourself?" You try and look in their direction while still keeping a simultaneous hold on the vision of the turquoise disc. "I don't see anything," you confirm. "And <i>maybe</i> I could find a way to parse through their strange esoterica and suss it out, but not while trying to maintain my hold on this main part of the spell—and certainly not in the few minutes we have remaining." "Perhaps we can simply… guess?" Chandry asks. "<i>They</i> probably don't know what animal we're supposed to use, or else the bearded youngster would have mentioned it. So perhaps—if we simply choose something that seems suitable… they won't know the difference." <<include "rielsguardian">>

Mimir nods, as if she'd expected this answer all along, then takes a deep breath and closes her eyes. "Fine," she intones. "Then let me try to look at what you're doing…" She means in the future, of course, not the present. You stand for a few minutes in silent, watching as the Seer's pale brow furrows, and her lips move as if in silent prayer. Several times, Riel glances at his pocket watch again and throws you a significant look, but finally Mimir says in her dry, toneless voice: "I think I've glimpsed it. Get rid of the candle… you don't need it. They think it's important, but it's not. Then you need to close your eyes and imagine yourself pulling away from your own body. The way you do in meditation, or when you need to peel apart the layers of a complex spell." Moving to obey, you close your eyes and let the chatter and noise of the outside world fall away from you, dimming down into muffled darkness. You imagine yourself corkscrewing in place, your mind rotating without your head actually physically moving, your consciousness spinning up away from you and hovering over the group like a cloud. It's difficult to slip into this mode of perception, almost like trying to fall asleep in the middle of a party, but soon enough, you can see a striking turquoise circle in your mind's eye, hovering in the middle distance like a flat, illuminated disk. That must be the salt circle, you think, humming with dormant magical energy. And at each cardinal point of the disk there are tiny, flickering dots of white light, each clustered in groups of five, like candles arrayed on a chandelier. Those must be the other Mages. "I think I've done it," you hear yourself say out loud, still keeping your eyes closed. Even to your own ears, your voice sounds dreamy and faraway. "I can see the spell—the 'working'—anyway. Now what?" "Now you add your magic to it," Mimir continues, with a tone of utmost certainty. "It should be easy enough. Just pour some of your energy into the spell, though not all at once. Go gently." You look again, and the points of light that represent the other Mages are pouring their power into the glowing turquoise disk: you can see the fine white filaments of their magic being pulled from them and circling slowly over the disk like yarn on a spindle. It's simple enough to slip your magic into that cord of energy, carefully spooling out your power and threading it into the group spell as finely and delicately as if you were weaving a rope from individual fibers. Soon enough, your magic has seamlessly blended into the group's, and you're left observing a ceaseless stream of wispy cloud-like light, floating above the diagram of the circle and its occupants like a strange bank of fog. "I've done it," you say finally. "And now I have to create the guardians next. Do you know how to do that?" <<page_break "Next" "mimirhelpsyoulab">>

You can't see her, but you imagine Mimir shaking her head beneath her veil. "That part is unclear to me," she admits. "The basics are that you have to pull some of that magic back out and then shape it into each guardian, like crafting a sculpture out of clouds. But the problem is, we're all already supposed to know our own animals. If we were Mages, we could have used a spell before coming here to look inside ourselves and find them. But the Norms here can't do that. And you and I can't look for them, either." "So what should we do?" Shery asks worriedly. Mimir shakes her head again. "I don't know. Even talking about it makes all of the ghosts turn slippery and vague and hazy, as if discussing it changes it too quickly for me to pin down any one solution." "Then we'll lie," Riel says then, brusque and efficient as ever. "It's unlikely that they know what animals we're supposed to use, or else the Mage from Belisaere would have mentioned it. I'm willing to bet that if we simply falsify our answers and pick something halfway suitable, they won't know the difference." <<include "rielsguardian">>

<<nobr>><<set $rielguardian to "", $sheryguardian to "", $mimirguardian to "", $chandryguardian to "", $mcguardian to "", $bespellediphiara to false>><</nobr>> "Works for me," you say; you're sweating now with the effort to keep your magical Sight from slipping, though you're able to open your eyes with some success, pinning the vision firmly in your mind's eye so that you experience a kind of double-vision as you look around. You begin to pull magic out of the cottony mass of the group working, letting a shapeless blob of amalgamated power hover in the air before you like an unformed snowman. "Let's break it down, then, one-by-one. What would best represent a guardian of Riel's?" "A rat?" Shery hazards. "Because of the Merchants Guild, and for its cleverness and industry…" "A viper!" Chandry cries, as if you're playing an exciting game. "For its ruthlessness and quickness to act!" Riel sniffs. "I would have thought something like a primate, for its intelligence," he says, a bit loftily. "Perhaps a lemur? They are quite fastidious." Mimir shrugs, seeming indifferent to the whole affair. "An owl," she suggests eventually. "For its clarity and farsightedness." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Let\'s go with rat. That seems to fit best."' 'shery8nods'>><<set $rielguardian to "rat">><<setriel +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Let\'s go with viper. That seems to fit best."' 'shery8nods'>><<set $rielguardian to "viper">><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Let\'s go with lemur. That seems to fit best."' 'shery8nods'>><<set $rielguardian to "lemur">><<setriel +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Let\'s go with owl. That seems to fit best."' 'shery8nods'>><<set $rielguardian to "owl">><</link>></li> <<if $rielromanceflag gte 15 or $riel gte 70>><li><<link '"Those are all good, but I could also see a white crane, for wisdom and dignity."' 'shery8nods'>><<setriel +1>><<set $rielguardian to "crane">><</link>></li><</if>> </ul>

Shery nods. "And what do you think mine would be?" "A rabbit," Chandry returns instantly. "For its gentleness and sweetness." "A honeybee," Riel rebuts. "For its homemaking and hard work." "A hamster," Mimir murmurs. "For its creativity and resourcefulness." "Or maybe a butterfly?" Shery finishes, wringing a thick section of her pale hair. "It's... it's a bit fragile at first glance, but also capable of change and growth…" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Let\'s go with rabbit. That seems to suit you."' 'riel8is'>><<set $sheryguardian to "rabbit">><<setshery +1>><<set $sheryharden -= 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Let\'s go with honeybee. That seems to suit you."' 'riel8is'>><<set $sheryguardian to "honeybee">><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Let\'s go with hamster. That seems to suit you."' 'riel8is'>><<set $sheryguardian to "hamster">><<setshery +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Let\'s go with butterfly. That seems to suit you."' 'riel8is'>><<set $sheryguardian to "butterfly">><<set $sheryharden += 1>><<if $sheryromanceflag gte 10>><<set $sheryromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <<if $sheryromanceflag gte 15 or $shery gte 70>><li><<link '"What about a hummingbird? Small, but they bring color and light with them wherever they go."' 'riel8is'>><<if $gender is "female">><<set $sheryromanceflag += 1>><</if>><<setshery +3>><<set $sheryguardian to "hummingbird">><</link>></li><</if>> </ul>

Riel is looking at his watch again. "We don't have much time left," he says. "What about Mimir?" "I thought of a raven," Chandry says immediately. "For it is a creature of omen and prophecies, is it not?" "I thought a bat," Riel murmurs. "Academics used to believe they were blind, but they are in fact capable of seeing many things the rest of the world cannot." "Or perhaps a mole?" Shery proposes. "They can be very solitary, but also very focused and driven, always tunneling forward in mysterious places…" Mimir shrugs. "You can pick any of them. I don't mind either way." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Let\'s go with raven. It makes sense."' 'chandry8nods'>><<set $mimirguardian to "raven">><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Let\'s go with bat. It makes sense."' 'chandry8nods'>><<set $mimirguardian to "bat">><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Let\'s go with mole. That makes sense."' 'chandry8nods'>><<set $mimirguardian to "mole">><</link>></li> <<if $mimir gte 50>><li><<link '"What about a tortoise? Wise, patient, and enduring?"' 'chandry8nods'>><<set $mimirguardian to "tortoise">><</link>></li><</if>> </ul>

Chandry nods eagerly, striking a heroic pose. "And what about me?" Riel gives you that flat look of thinly-disguised irony again. "What about a frill-necked lizard? They're enigmatic and outlandish enough." "Or a parrot," Shery offers more helpfully. "They're very colorful, eye-catching, and talkative." Mimir shakes her head faintly. "You are a mystery, even to me," she admits. "Even to myself," Chandry answers agreeably, beaming. Then he strikes another pose. "Though I often imagine myself to be a lion, roaring and proud!" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Let\'s go with frill-necked lizard. That rings true."' 'finally8youre'>><<set $chandryguardian to "lizard">><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Let\'s go with parrot. That rings true."' 'finally8youre'>><<set $chandryguardian to "parrot">><<set $chandry += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Let\'s go with lion. That rings true."' 'finally8youre'>><<set $chandryguardian to "lion">><<set $chandry += 2>><</link>></li> <<if $chandry gt 3>><li><<link '"I\'ve always thought of you as an orangutan. Entertaining and theatrical."' 'finally8youre'>><<set $chandryguardian to "orangutan">><</link>></li><</if>> </ul>

<<notify_codex_bestiary "Flame in the Night">>Finally, you're the only one left who still needs to be assigned a guardian. "Well, I've always thought of something like a Flame in the Night," Shery tells you shyly, referring to a rare and elusive red falcon whose feathers glow like fire in the moonlight. <<nobr>><<if $sheryromanceflag gte 20>> "Something very bright and awe-inspiring." She blushes hotly. "And… well… beautiful. So perhaps something like a phoenix?" <<else>> "So perhaps something like a phoenix?" <</if>><</nobr>> "What about a dragon?" Riel suggests. <<nobr>><<if $rielromanceflag gte 20>> "Rare, powerful, and… fascinating." At this last part, he clears his throat softly and looks away, checking the time on his watch again. <<else>> "Rare, powerful, and brimming with magic." <</if>><</nobr>> Chandry claps his hands together delightedly. "What about a griffin?" he cries. "A heroic symbol of truth and justice for all!" "A unicorn," Mimir says softly. "Something divine, gods-touched, and pure of heart." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I like the sound of the phoenix."' 'and8finally'>><<set $mcguardian to "phoenix">><<setshery +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I like the sound of the dragon."' 'and8finally'>><<set $mcguardian to "dragon">><<setriel +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I like the sound of the griffin."' 'and8finally'>><<set $mcguardian to "griffin">><<set $chandry += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I like the sound of the unicorn."' 'and8finally'>><<set $mcguardian to "unicorn">><<setmimir +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I have something different in mind..."' 'ihave8different'>><</link>></li> </ul>

"I think my thelemic guardian is a <<textbox "$mcguardian" "">>." <<page_break "Next" "and8finally">>

And finally, you have your answers. You have only moments left to frantically pull the magic in front of you into the correct forms, feeling a little as if you're sculpting and molding fairy floss into place and trying to get it to retain a distinct shape. Your pulse-point jumps with nerves, but eventually you manage it: <<nobr>><<if ($magic gte 70 and $intelligence gte 50) and $arcane gte 50>> a surprisingly well-done array of shimmering, phantom animal shapes sit before you, invisible to the naked eye but brilliant and flame-like in your magical Sight. The $sheryguardian, the $rielguardian, then the $mimirguardian. Then there's the $chandryguardian, and finally your own $mcguardian. Even as you watch, they seem to bow to you, then dissipate into the air like wisps of white smoke. You immediately feel your part in the spell take hold, fastening itself over the arena entrance, and you heave a sigh of relief. "It's done." And not a moment too soon. <<else>> it's a bit sloppy and slapdash, with the shapes looking more like half-melted ice sculptures rather than true animals, but there's an <i>approximation</i> of a $sheryguardian, $rielguardian, $mimirguardian, $chandryguardian, and $mcguardian. You watch as they rise and bow to you, wavering a little like half-lit, uncertain candle flames, before they turn and dissipate into the air like mist. After a moment, you feel a little catch, as if something had snagged its claw momentarily on the edge of your consciousness, and you assume that means your part in the spell took hold. You heave a sigh of relief. "I think it's done." And not a moment too soon. <</if>><</nobr>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "theres8bleating">><</link>></center>

<<set $robyn to true>> There's the bleating, brassy fanfare of trumpets from the direction of the field and a renewed uproar of shouting, cheering, and the stamping of feet on the stands overhead. Within moments, you're abruptly shunted to one side as a troop of copper-skinned soldiers hustles past you, bearing a curtained golden palanquin on their shoulders. They brush past you without a second glance, bearing whom you presume to be their prince further into the arena, and shortly thereafter, you hear the boom of magically-amplified voices speaking as the opening ceremonies commence. You linger in the entrance, however, unsure if you're supposed to remain at your post until you're retrieved, or if you were supposed to rendezvous at some other point that you're not aware of. You don't have to wonder for long, though, because shortly after the prince's arrival, a diminutive, harassed-looking young woman follows quickly on his heels, sporting silvery hair twisted up into braided buns on either side of her head, and a trailing silk robe decorated with tiny pink blossoms. It shouldn't come as a surprise that she, too, is a Mage; before Haven was conquered by the Autarchy and named Haven, it was Magus, the grand seat of power for all Eastern Mages. "So you did come, after all," she says without preamble, drawing up to your group with an air of infinite exasperation. "I was just on the verge of replacing you with the delegation from Stavastre when the report came in that you'd decided to show up anyway! What happened? When we spoke on the far-speaker this morning, you said your group had come down with some kind of pox. Bitten by experiments, you said?" Riel thankfully takes the lead and says smoothly, "That was true, but our excellent Healers were able to find a solution at the last minute. Rather than trying to raise you on the far-speaker and risk tangling things up further, we decided to translocate here as fast as we could, knowing you would be alerted once we arrived." The woman nods for a moment, then does a double-take, her somewhat sleepy-looking green eyes flying open in surprise. "Wait a moment, you're <i>Norm</i>," she exclaims. Then she catches sight of Shery and Chandry and cries, "Wait, what is this?" She whirls towards you and says, "Are you Magister Druzhina?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Rely on your charisma and cunning to lie off the cuff.' 'relyon8charisma'>><<if $setcharisma gte 65>><<setcharisma +1>><</if>><<if $cunning gte 65>><<setcunning +1>><</if>><<if $charisma lt 65 or $cunning lt 65>><<setcunning -1>><<setcharisma -1>><</if>><</link>></li> <<if ($psionic gte 50 and $magic gte 50) or $specialization is "enchanter">><<link '<div class="choice-item">Use an Enchantment to convince her there\'s nothing to be suspicious about.</div>' 'use8enchantment'>><<setpsionic +3>><<setmagic +3>><<set $bespellediphiara to true>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Use an Enchantment to convince her there\'s nothing to be suspicious about.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link 'Employ your courage and iron will to intimidate her into not questioning things further.' 'employ8courage'>><<if $courage gte 65>><<setcourage +1>><</if>><<if $compassionate lt 45>><<setcompassionate -1>><</if>><</link>></li> </ul>

"I'm Magister Druzhina's head apprentice," you return warmly. "The Magister stayed behind to take care of another matter." She frowns, but she looks halfway convinced as she says skeptically, "Head apprentice—then you must be Robyn Ancelstierre." "That's right," you agree, utterly confident. "And this is my team of personal assistants. We've been working on a way to draw magical power from non-Mages, so that there's only one controlling consciousness during group workings, avoiding confusion and over-complication. The simpler a spell is, after all, the less chance it has of going wrong. It's all very complex, but Armalenthieh has always been on the cusp of the most advanced and innovative methods. We came here because we were sure Archmage Tangriel would be very impressed by what we've pioneered. He'll certainly want to explore it further once we join Saenreth." <<nobr>><<if $charisma gte 65 and $cunning gte 65>> The young woman hesitates, but then she seems to decide that it isn't worth the trouble of investigating further: she's clearly busy trying to manage and coordinate this whole event, and if the others were somehow going to be a problem, you wouldn't have successfully pulled off your part of the security spell. So she simply shrugs and says, "Fine, then. If you think it won't give you a disadvantage during the trials, I won't stop you. I'll make it a note so that everyone is aware you're trying something new." <<else>> The young woman's eyes narrow: she clearly doesn't buy this. "But I never heard a thing about it," she says suspiciously. "Perhaps I need to contact Armalenthieh…" <br><br> "They're busy dealing with some affairs that have come up," Riel cuts in then, his tone sharp and impatient in that merchant leader way that makes people hastily snap to attend to him. "Including that pox. We were approved to come here months ago and have been over this with multiple administrators—going around in circles at this point is just a waste of time. If we were any sort of obstruction or threat, could we have completed our part in the security spell so successfully?" <br><br> The Mage blinks, apparently taken aback by the abruptness of his response, but she seems convinced by his commanding tone—and she also seems to be too busy with coordinating this whole event to investigate any further. <br><br> "I suppose you're right," she says with a shrug. "As you say. And if you think it won't give you a disadvantage during the trials, who am I to judge? I'll just make a note so that everyone is aware you're trying something new." <</if>><</nobr>> "But perhaps you could bring us up to speed on some details first?" Shery asks cautiously then. "We, um… we left Armalenthieh in a hurry, so we might have some gaps in our knowledge." <<include "you8spend">>

It's certainly a risk to try working an Enchantment on another Mage, especially one who is much more used to fortifying her mental defenses than the magic-users of your time—but your willpower is also much stronger than hers. You blow through her resistance like it's made of paper, and almost immediately, you watch as her face slackens and her eyes glaze over, your spell taking hold and turning her suspicions into docile complacency. "I'm Magister Druzhina's head apprentice," you say smoothly. "The Magister stayed behind to take care of another matter." "Of course," the woman intones obediently, staring at some faraway place to the right of your shoulder. "Then you must be Robyn Ancelstierre." "That's right," you agree. "And this is my team of personal assistants. There's nothing unusual about them, and everyone else will be informed that they have been vetted and should be treated just like everyone else. They're part of an exciting new method of working magic that we think Archmage Tangriel will be intrigued by." "Of course," the Mage agrees politely. "Well, then. Perhaps I should bring you up to speed on some things before we start." <<include "you8spend">>

"Of course not," you return impatiently. "I'm Magister Druzhina's head apprentice. The Magister stayed behind to take care of another matter." The woman frowns, but she looks halfway convinced by your brusqueness. "Head apprentice… then you must be Robyn Ancelstierre?" "That's right," you assert confidently. "And this is my team of personal assistants. We've been working on a way to draw magical power from non-Mages, so that there's only one controlling consciousness during group workings—well, I don't have time to get into all the details. Needless to say, Armalenthieh is on the cusp of very advanced and innovative methods, and we're sure that Archmage Tangriel will be very impressed once he sees what we've pioneered." <<nobr>><<if $courage gte 65 and $compassionate lt 45>> The young woman hesitates, but then she seems to decide that it isn't worth the trouble of investigating further: she's clearly busy trying to manage and coordinate this whole event, and if the others were somehow going to be a problem, you wouldn't have successfully pulled off your part of the security spell. So she simply shrugs and says meekly, "Fine, then. As you say. If you don't think it will give you a disadvantage in the trials, I suppose there aren't any rules against it. I'll just make a note so that everyone is aware that you're trying something new." <<else>> The young woman's eyes narrow: she clearly doesn't buy this. "But I never heard a thing about it," she says suspiciously. "Perhaps I need to contact Armalenthieh…" <br><br> "They're busy dealing with some affairs that have come up," Riel cuts in then, his tone sharp and impatient in that merchant leader way that makes people snap to attention. "Including that pox. We were approved to come here months ago and have been over this with multiple administrators—going around in circles at this point is just a waste of time. If we were any sort of obstruction or threat, could we have completed our part in the security spell so successfully?" <br><br> The Mage blinks, apparently taken aback by the abruptness of his response, but she seems convinced by his commanding tone—and she also seems to be too busy with coordinating this whole event to investigate any further. <br><br> "I suppose you're right," she says with a shrug. "As you say. And if you think it won't give you a disadvantage during the trials, who am I to judge? I'll just make a note so that everyone is aware you're trying something new." <</if>><</nobr>> "And perhaps you could bring us up to speed on some details?" Shery asks cautiously then. "We, um… we left Armalenthieh in a hurry, so we might have some gaps in our knowledge." <<include "you8spend">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "you8spendi">><</link>></center>

You spend some time talking with the Mage, whose name turns out to be Iphiara: she's serving as the liaison and event coordinator for what she refers to as the Crystal Tournament, named such for the priceless arcane crystal awarded to the victors at the end of the competition. From what you can piece together, the Crystal Tournament originally started as a way of testing prospective students who petitioned to join Archmage Tangriel's coveted school, housed in his private tower Saenreth. There were so many applicants begging to be taught by Tangriel every year that a gauntlet of trials had to be devised to cull their numbers. But public interest in both this unusual admissions process and its results eventually caused the whole thing to evolve into an actual public sporting event, with schools and coalitions from all over the Continent sending their most promising candidates to compete against each other in a friendly annual display of talent and showmanship. This year, two hundred applicants from different Mage universities have been selected to participate. But, apparently, part of the group that you arrived with was already predetermined to be the most advanced of the whole crop. These students, dubbed Adepts, are mainly from the schools Pyrra (from Ambryn), Anscher (from Leore), Cittalune (from Caprona), and Belisaere (from a city called Falcrest, which you think no longer exists in your time), while your group is supposedly from Armalethieh (from Calta). <<nobr>><<if $education is "Circle-trained">> (Perhaps mercifully, the delegation from Solhadur is among the "general" pool of candidates this year, not your own elite bracket.) <</if>><</nobr>> As such, you and the others will be competing in a different version of the trials, which tends to be more subtle and less geared towards public entertainment, while the rest of the applicants—called Initiates—will be pitted against each other in a more mainstream series of tests. At the end of the tournament, at least five groups between the two pools will be selected for admission: three from the Adepts and two from the Initiates. <i>Well, that's just great,</i> you think. It's not as if the labyrinth would make it easy for you. "And what are the trials, exactly?" you ask out loud. "The advanced ones we'll be participating in, I mean?" <<nobr>><<if $bespellediphiara is true>> Iphiara blinks at you slowly, shaking her head as if to rid it of a fog; the stronger effects of the Enchantment are fading, so soon her behavior will return to completely normal and no one will be the wiser. "It changes every year," she tells you. "Archmage Tangriel—or his head apprentice—comes up with them in secret. That way no one gains an unfair advantage by preparing ahead of time or cheating." <<else>> Iphiara casts you a surprised look. "It changes every year, of course," she tells you. "Archmage Tangriel—or his head apprentice—comes up with them in secret. That way no one gains an unfair advantage by preparing ahead of time or cheating." <</if>><</nobr>> "Can… can we die from any of the trials?" Shery asks in an airless voice. The Mage shrugs. "Contestants aren't allowed to kill or maim each other, if that's what you mean. But there are occasionally accidents, and the trials themselves can be hazardous. If someone's spell backfires and kills them, say, we have no way of preventing that. But we don't exactly encourage anyone to harm another on purpose, and anyone caught doing so will be expelled from the tournament or even tried in a legal tribunal before the High Court." Shery nods slowly, while Chandry butts in, "And this spell—the security spell we just performed—that wasn't one of our official trials?" "Oh, no," Iphiara answers, shaking her head with a pitying laugh, as if a child had asked her a very nonsensical question. "That was merely a bit of showmanship, opening ceremony fluff. Though if you hadn't managed to complete it, I imagine you would have gotten kicked out of the Adept tier… or perhaps out of the tournament altogether." Then she sobers and shakes her head again. "No, the real fun is yet to come." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "and8whatabout">><</link>></center>

"And what about this prince?" Riel asks keenly. "Who is he, exactly?" A faint look of impatience crosses Iphiara's face. "You weren't told? I suppose you must have missed it when the Adepts were informed this morning. All kinds of people come to see these games, including foreign dignitaries, celebrities, scholars of magic, that kind of thing. Not only does Archmage Tangriel's name have far-reaching impact, but public displays of Magus's power like this are rare, so people flock to the stands to observe and maybe even learn a bit about the state of magic in the land and our respective studies each year. It's like a giant academic conference and a huge sporting tournament all in one. And this year's guest of honor is Prince Cosmas Iliniat, heir to the Koppyr Isles, himself an amateur student of magic." The name of both the personage and the nation fails to ring a bell, but before you can ask for further details, Iphiara's face suddenly brightens. "Actually," she says, lowering her voice conspiratorially, "I'm supposed to find someone who can serve as a sort of escort for Prince Cosmas, keeping him company during the lulls between events, making sure he's entertained and taken care of at the parties and feasts, that kind of thing. He specifically requested someone who would be competing in the tournament this year, someone he could befriend and sort of support as an unofficial sponsor—he's learned magic under a tutor at his palace, but I suspect he would like to get to know and make conversation with… someone more worldly and knowledgeable and tuned in to things, like an Adept. I thought of Magister Druzhina, who speaks Koppyri, I'm told, but since she's not here…" She trails off meaningfully and looks at you. You frown to yourself. Serve as the escort of a foreign prince, <i>and</i> worry about trying to pass these trials, all with a team of non-Mages to protect and disguise from scrutiny? It doesn't exactly sound like the cleverest strategy in the world, especially if you're seeking not to draw attention to yourself. You're about to decline when Riel steps in and says, "Sadly, none of us speak Koppyri, and I think we need to focus all of our attentions on passing our trials, besides." Iphiara scowls. "I figured you would say that, but I had to ask." She turns away, as if to proceed further into the arena, where the augmented echo of the announcements has finally died down. She mutters under her breath, "This is supposed to be Senua's job. <i>She's</i> head apprentice, but she's too busy shacking up to care, so of course it falls to me. Typical…" To your group, she says smartly over her shoulder, "Take this hallway and go up the stairs to your left. There, you and the other Adepts will be briefed on your first trial." She casts a significant glance at Riel, Shery, and Chandry, the latter of whom waves cheerfully, his overlarge sleeve making a flapping sound. "Good luck." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "youtake8as">><</link>></center>

You take as much time as you can while making your way up the aforementioned stairs, discussing the situation in hushed voices with your team. "What are the Koppyri Isles?" you ask. "I don't think I've ever heard of them." Riel waves a dismissive hand. "They're a small island chain in the southern ocean. If Prince Cosmas is alive, they will be conquered and absorbed by the larger island nation that will someday become our Ivory Isles—and within a few decades, if my memory is correct. And I know we were in agreement on this, but I did not think it prudent to interact with a historical figure on such an intimate scale, particularly not as his escort. Could you imagine the disastrous effects if we were to let something slip, allude to some future technology or event that could alter the course of history?" He casts a sharp look around at the others. "Let's all keep that in mind. If we really are in the past, we must avoid affecting it adversely as much as we can." Shery and Chandry nod; you say, "But if we're to win this tournament, <i>aren't</i> we affecting history as it is? What if we're displacing some other group that was supposed to win? What if, in our time, the delegation from Armalenthieh really did never show up, and it was the replacement delegation that was supposed to win and—I don't know, find some cure for some magical disease under Archmage Tangriel?" Riel frowns deeply, drumming his fingers impatiently against the head of his cane. "We have to assume that whoever constructed this spell thought of that," he says finally. "They wouldn't send us back here if our very presence could cause temporal disarray and catastrophe. It would be completely counterproductive for them to do so. But still, we should exercise caution. I don't believe our being here or even winning would violate any intended perimeters, but we should take care not to do much more than that. We should keep our contact and exposure with this time period to a minimum." "And try to win these trials as quickly as possible," Shery murmurs. "It's reassuring, at least, that it won't be like Briony's gladiator arena: it seems we won't have to fight the other Adepts directly. I suppose it makes sense—it would be such a waste, to make the brightest minds of this generation destroy each other—but I am worried about the rest of these tests. If they're all magical in nature, it seems <<c firstname>> has the unfair burden of doing the work for all of us." "Perhaps they're not all magical," Chandry proposes. "The simula—the simu—the labyrinth keeper is stationed to test the worth of <i>anyone</i> who comes into the tower, no? I don't think it would be very fair if that worth relied on magical ability alone. That would simply result in the automatic failure of any non-Mage if they happened to be caught alone, which doesn't seem right. So perhaps it actually tests other traits." You glance at Mimir, who is squinting, looking like Shery when she's been robbed of her glasses. "Do you see anything about that, Mimir?" She shakes her head sharply. "No," she intones, "but I do know that there are some robes in the closet at the end of this hallway. We'd better put them on before we join the others. Otherwise, we're going to stand out even more, and I don't think we want that." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "now8clad">><</link>></center>

Now clad in shimmering Mage robes with wide trailing sleeves, strange ear-drops dangling and twinkling from your ears, you slip into the large viewing chamber positioned at the top of the arena, normally reserved for important politicians and people who can't mingle with the general public. There, you find your group of twenty Adepts, looking far more relaxed and cheerful now that the first ritual of the day has been completed. They even smile and raise a cheer as you enter in your robes; the Mage from Belisaere hustles over and raises a goblet of what smells like hot larkon cider in your direction. "Armalenthieh," he says jovially. "You had me worried for a moment, but the working went off without a hitch! I've never seen a $mcguardian as a thelemic guardian, either, very interesting stuff…" You exchange introductions with him and a few of the other Mages in your immediate vicinity: the bearded young man is named Lochran, the young lady from Pyrra named Calixte. You give your name as Robyn Ancelstierre, sticking with the convenient identity you've been given as Magister Druzhina's head apprentice and last-minute replacement. Hopefully none of the people here have ever met Robyn in person before. Interestingly, no one bothers to ask Riel, Shery, or Chandry their names—in fact, they hardly spare them a second glance, despite the fact that Chandry is literally a clown with a garishly-painted face. The only other person they acknowledge in your group is Mimir, who doesn't speak and merely inclines her head to show that she'd like to be left alone. The others respect this as if it's common behavior (and, among famously-studious Mages, it probably is). Lochran waves a hand vaguely at the others scattered around the room, all absorbed in their own conversations or engrossed in watching some event involving the Initiates unfold in the field below. The young man seems much more gregarious now that he doesn't have your lateness or the group spell to worry about. "Well," he says, "I suppose we're just supposed to mingle until they come in to tell us what we're supposed to do next." "Who's 'they'?" you ask. He seems to be the appointed liaison between the Adepts and whoever is running the tournament, given how he communicated with them on the far-speaker this morning. "Iphiara?" Lochran shakes his head. "I don't think so. She keeps things running smoothly as the event coordinator, but I think she's more about the administration and the party-planning. Most of the time, it's the judges who come to tell us about each trial. Three judges, three trials." "And Archmage Tangriel is one of them, isn't he?" a youngish-looking Mage beside you asks eagerly. Calixte smirks, and Lochran says with pitying patience, "No, the Archmage never bestirs himself to get involved with all of this, not until the victors are declared. He leaves it to his judges—those are usually instructors at his school—and his head apprentice, who orchestrates the whole thing. In fact, the last few years, he's hardly even left his tower." "I think we all know why," Calixte mutters, and an uneasy, nervous laugh goes up at that. After that, though, the interest in the conversation dissipates and the others drift back to the windows, leaving you free to look around the room. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "one8wall">><</link>></center>

One wall is lined with a long table filled with colorful appetizers, drinks, and strange, foreign confections, many of them smelling richly of butter and honey. A harpist in the corner plucks away at her instrument in graceful solitude; opposite of her, a richly-clothed young man with dark bronze skin and tight black curls reclines on a silk couch, talking animatedly with a beautiful, placid-looking Mage sporting a waterfall of long black hair. In another corner, an older Mage—clearly not one of the Adepts—labors over what looks like a stout-legged folding table with a complex framework of gold and copper wires resting on its top. It smells strongly of ozone and cedarwood, even from where you're standing. "Don't interrupt me," the man grunts as you draw closer, curious as to what he's doing. "I'm working the weather." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Don\'t tell me what to do."' 'dont8tell'>><<setloyal -5>><<setcompassionate -5>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Can we watch, at least?"' 'canwe8watch'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"What do you mean, \'working the weather?\'"' 'whatdo8youmeanworkingtheweather'>><</link>></li> </ul>

The man flaps a hand impatiently at you while making a pushing motion in the air with his other one. "Not now!" he hisses. "You can stand and watch if you like, but stop talking!" <<include "you8watch">>

The man flaps a hand impatiently at you while making a pushing motion in the air with his other one. "Fine," he hisses. "Just stop talking!" <<include "you8watch">>

This isn't like any weather magic you've ever seen, but the man flaps a hand impatiently at you while making a pushing motion in the air with his other one. "Not now!" he hisses. "You can stand and watch if you like, but stop talking!" <<include "you8watch">>

You watch, intrigued, as white mist seems to fill the wire framework, eventually parting to reveal what looks to be a tiny, floating map of the Eastern Continent, a perfect diorama in every detail. There's the dark green carpet of Thielwood to the north, the tiny blue-gray threads of the rivers by Caprona and the lake district, the white cliffs of the southern coastline. The Weather-Mage gestures sharply, and the map seems to hump up like a folded carpet before sliding back down; now you can see the small white bump of Haven—or rather, Magus—rising out of the surrounding valley on its green plateau. White clouds scuttle over it, casting striped shadows across the city in ribbed, tiger-like formations. The Mage mutters, "That's no good. Storm's coming—but if I push it <i>away</i>, I've got to bring good weather from somewhere else. Let's look at how Ambryn is doing. They could probably stand to have some rain." You watch him for a while as he rolls up his sleeves and continually pushes and kneads at the air, like a baker handling a truly massive piece of dough, and from his mutters, you presume that he's making <i>something</i> happen. Again, it's the other Mages' total lack of interest in this that stands out to you. This is some of the most unusual spellwork you've ever seen, and they stand around sipping from their goblets as if it's an everyday occurrence. Was this really what life was like before the Castigation? Beside you, Riel has a slightly pained expression. You glance at him and say in a hushed voice, "What is it?" "Oh, nothing," he answers, his lips twitching. You realize the strained expression is him holding back a laugh. "I was just thinking about how Red would weep if he knew where we were right now." You grin. Transported to a past filled with esoteric and incomprehensible magic? "He's going to be so angry that he missed out." Riel inclines his head. "Perhaps we shouldn't speak of it after we come back, to ease his suffering." You turn away after a while and make your way to the refreshments table: you don't miss how Shery's eyes light up as she gazes with longing at a cheery-looking iced fruit cake, and Chandry shows no reservations at all in tucking in. However, you're instantly on-guard as you notice an intrigued-looking young woman with her dark hair cut short in a daring bob, standing near the table and eyeing your group with open curiosity. The short-haired Mage sidles up between Chandry and Shery as they fill some glasses with steaming larkon cider. "Don't see a lot of Norms on this side of the Continent," she remarks casually. "Especially not assisting in anything like <i>magic</i>. Can you even read?" From the blithe way she says it, it's almost as if she doesn't even realize she's being rude. Riel's face remains impassive as he places a steadying hand on your elbow, while Shery blushes hotly and drops her ladle. Chandry's head whips around to stare at the young woman; he looks vaguely scandalized. You try to keep yourself from bristling. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Speak up indignantly. "That is such a rude thing to say. Apologize this instant!"' 'speak8up'>><<setshery +1>><<if $gender is "female">><<set $sheryromanceflag += 3>><</if>><<set $chandry += 1>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Crack your knuckles. "Hey. Are you looking to start a fight?"' 'crack8your'>><<setriel -1>><<setshery +1>><<if $gender is "female">><<set $sheryromanceflag += 1>><</if>><<set $chandry += 1>><<setcompassionate -1>><<setcourage +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Retain your composure. "Do you think if they couldn\'t, they would even be here right now?"' 'retain8your'>><<setintelligence +1>><<setcharisma +1>><<setriel +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Hold your tongue and let the others handle it.' 'holdyour8tongue'>><<setcunning +1>><<setshery -1>><<if $gender is "female">><<set $sheryromanceflag -= 3>><</if>><</link>></li> </ul>

The young woman laughs, an unkind sound. "I'm sorry. It's just… everyone knows they're <i>rustic</i>. I was always told that Norms only know how to farm and soldier. I knew someone who went to study them for a project in the West, and he said they were all dullards and savages. All their babies pewling in the mud and wrestling with their dogs on dirt floors." <<include "you8grit">>

The young woman laughs, an unkind sound. "Not at all. It's just… everyone knows they're barbarians. I knew someone who went to study them in the West and he said they were all dullards and savages. All their babies pewling in the mud and wrestling with their dogs on dirt floors." <<include "you8grit">>

Shery looks like she wants to shrink into the floor until she's invisible. Chandry throws his shoulders back and says frostily, "I will inform you, madam, that I received a very fine education, indeed. And Miss Acquell is one of the cleverest people I've ever had the pleasure of meeting." The young woman laughs, an unkind sound. "Is that so? How fascinating. I was always under the impression that your folk only knew how to farm and soldier. Our foremost scholars refer to your people in the West as dullards and barbarians." Chandry gasps, then rips his glove off and throws it to his feet in a dramatic invitation for a duel. "You risk censure, madam!" The short-haired Mage seems genuinely amused. "Come now, sir clown," she says in a mocking tone. "What could you possibly hope to do? Threaten me with a stick? Beat me, as your men beat their wives?" <<include "you8grit">>

You grit your teeth. <i>All right, that's it</i>. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Pull your arm back to swing at her with a devastating haymaker.' 'riel8drags'>><<setintelligence -3>><<setcunning -3>><<setcourage +3>><<setloyal -5>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setriel -3>><<setshery +3>><<if $gender is "female">><<set $sheryromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Open your mouth to give her a vicious tongue-lashing.' 'riel8drags'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Look around to report her to an authority figure.' 'riel8drags'>><<setloyal +5>><</link>></li> </ul>

Riel drags you back by the arm as he whispers sternly, "<i>Don't draw unnecessary attention—</i>" But before you can actually move, there's a resounding <i>gong</i> as everyone in the room turns expectantly to face the doorway, where a rod-slim, dignified-looking older woman clad in a black silk robe has entered the room. "Adepts," she says in a papery, elegant voice. "It is time for your first trial to begin." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "yougather8obediently">><</link>></center>

You gather obediently in front of the instructor, who introduces herself as Magister Querida, head of High Magic and Etheric Theurgical Studies at Saenreth. Her hawkish, gold-colored eyes wander over your faces in an intent assessment, but whether what she sees impresses her or leaves her unenthused, her expression doesn't say. She continues, "Your first trial is quite straightforward. We have fashioned an artificial forest not far from the city's bounds, to which we will provide a portal shortly. Your teams will be scattered throughout this forest and tasked to hunt and slay as many Nemek as you can find in the allotted time before the trial ends. You will be given three hours." Although Riel's expression doesn't change, you hear Shery gasp softly <<nobr>><<if $shery gte 65>> and reach up to grasp your sleeve; <<else>> while <</if>><</nobr>> Chandry's face seems to go slack underneath the garish paint. Nemek are Tainted beasts, sometimes used as mounts by man-shaped Tainted races like the Balor: leathery-skinned and sporting hundreds of vicious teeth, they resemble land-roving sharks with ridged, muscular backs, capable of hunting their prey by scent from many miles away. While only about as cunning as the average wolf or bear, the idea of being dropped into a forest containing dozens of them—especially with Shery, Riel, Chandry, and Mimir to defend—doesn't sound like the most appealing prospect. Magister Querida continues, "There are only a few rules to this trial. The first and foremost is that you must keep within your designated territory within the forest. You cannot, for any reason, cross into another team's domain. An equal number of Nemek have been distributed into each area, so this is how we will keep things as fair as possible." She shakes her head, the decorations of her elaborate golden headdress tinkling softly like tiny windchimes. "The other rules: you are not allowed to bring any weapons or outside tools into the forest. You will be facing against the Nemek with your magic alone." <i>Great</i>. "Lastly: you will be expected to collect proof of your slain Nemek in order to have them counted at the end of the trial. So it would behoove you not to destroy them completely; reducing the entire forest to a pile of cinders, for example, would not be an acceptable solution for this test." Immediately, a few hands go into the air. The arrogant short-haired Mage's is one of them. "Eyvi Isibis, from the Namorn delegation," she says in a bright, eager tone very different from the languid, condescending voice she used to deride Shery and Chandry. From the way other Mages stir and glance at each other, the name holds some significance—she could come from a powerful Mage family or lineage. "Does that mean we should be cutting off the Nemek's heads, like hunters do with their deer? Or would turning them to stone and having the statues counted be acceptable?" Magister Querida grants her a chilly, unimpressed look. "Much of this tournament is designed to test your creativity and resourcefulness," she drawls. "So use your common sense. This is not a particularly difficult puzzle." Barreling past Eyvi's crestfallen expression, Lochran says, "And how will we be able to ensure we don't cross into another team's territory, Magister? I assume that there will be a demarcation of some sort?" Magister Querida makes a dismissive gesture, her wizened hand half-hidden by her trailing sleeve. "Of course. Anyone with magical Sight will see the boundaries, as clear as day." Although she doesn't glance at your team, you can tell that everyone's attention is suddenly focused in your direction. You swallow and try not to shuffle in place under their perceived scrutiny. This is your chance to ask a question yourself, if you have one. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"How many Nemek are there per team?"' 'howmany8nemek'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Nemek are dangerous. Will the instructors intervene if any of our team are placed in mortal danger?"' 'nemek8are'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"How will we know when the trial is over?"' 'howwill8we'>><</link>></li> </ul>

The magister doesn't quite look in your direction, seemingly unimpressed with your question. "That is irrelevant," she intones. "You need only focus on slaying as many as possible. The teams with the highest scores will, of course, earn their first distinctions among their peers. Any team who fails to kill even a single Nemek—or breaks the rules in some other way—will be automatically disqualified from the tournament." One of the Mages to your right—dressed in Stravastre robes, you think—nudges his companion and says in an undertone, "My cousin did this trial, years ago. They don't tell you the number so you can't cheat. People would fabricate or make illusions of Nemek bodies to boost their kill counts when they'd mess up and destroy them on accident. But if you don't know there are twenty, and you kill five and make ten, but there are still fifteen roaming around, they'll catch you out." "But I heard the team who did that was still admitted to Saenreth," his companion whispers back. "Cheating isn't <i>discouraged</i> in this tournament, is it? If you're not stupid about it and can impress them, I've heard they still reward situations that show off your ingenuity and other things—even if it means breaking the rules." The first Mage shrugs. "So I've heard. Just depends on if you want to take that risk or not." Magister Querida turns to them with a stony stare. "If you're quite done, may I proceed?" The two Mages shuffle, looking chagrined as Lochran turns to them with a baleful, silencing glare. "Sorry, Magister." <<include "aftera8few">>

Someone laughs faintly in the background; Magister Querida doesn't look particularly impressed by the question. "No," she answers flatly. "You all knew what you were signing up for when you joined this tournament. If you are unwilling to face danger—even mortal danger—in pursuit of your craft, you have no place at Saenreth, the most daring of all pioneers of magic." <<include "aftera8few">>

Magister Querida makes the same lazy half-gesture. "A bell will ring, and any Nemek within the forest will be frozen in stasis. It would be difficult to miss." <<include "aftera8few">>

After a few more minutes of instruction, the magister nods to you all, turns, and translocates away with a whiff of air that smells of lightning and ozone. The different teams of Adepts immediately turn to each other, chattering earnestly as they confer and react to the news; you have only a few moments to strategize before the portal appears, you gather. Turning to your own team, you find Shery looking large-eyed and pale with stifled panic, Chandry looking nervous but striving to keep his chin up, Riel with a calculating look on his face, and Mimir seemingly as impassive as always. The other Mages, too, look uneasy; you'd guess that they're more accustomed to classroom lectures and theoretical debates rather than violent hunts for Tainted creatures, though some among their number have the hardened look of Duelki Battle-Mages. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Speak in an encouraging, bracing tone to your team. "This will be easy. We\'re Shepherds. Hunting down Tainted is literally what we do for a living."' 'speak8in'>><<if ($courage gte 65 and $compassionate gt 50) and $charisma gte 70>><<setcourage +1>><<setcharisma +1>><<setshery +1>><<if $sheryromanceflag gte 10>><<set $sheryromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Speak honestly and bluntly. "This is going to be tough, but we can manage it if we\'re smart and muster our courage."' 'speak8honestly'>><<if $cunning gte 50 and $courage gte 45>><<setcunning +1>><<setriel +1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"...We\'re fucked."' 'were8fucked'>><<setshery -3>><<if $sheryromanceflag gte 10>><<set $sheryromanceflag -= 1>><</if>><<setriel -3>><<setcharisma -3>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Hold your silence. Nothing you can say will help this situation.' 'shortly8thereafter'>><<setcharisma -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

<<nobr>><<if ($courage gte 65 and $compassionate gt 50) and $charisma gte 70>> Chandry's face immediately brightens, and he claps his gloved hands together. "Huzzah! Well-spoken, my dear comrade! With you at our vanguard, we will have no trouble triumphing over these wastrels and waifs!" <br><br> Calixte grants him an acid look for this outburst, but his show of confidence has a palpable effect: you can feel your team's conviction rising. <<else>> Chandry pulls a woeful face. "But alas, I am no such Shepherd," he protests. <br><br> "And we don't have any experience in the field," Shery adds, indicating herself, Riel, and Mimir. "We're Solar Corps members!" <<if $rielinvestigation is true>> <br><br> "Well, I was a part of the mission to eliminate Clochus," Riel murmurs superciliously. "Among other assignments since. But even then, as now, others handled the combat aspect. We will be relying on you once again, <<c firstname>>." <</if>> <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "shortly8thereafter">>

<<nobr>><<if $cunning gte 50 and $courage gte 45>> Shery nods, looking bolstered by your faith that they can handle the truth. "Y-yes, I believe we can do this if we're not too reckless!" <br><br> "And use our collective resources and abilities wisely," Riel says musingly. "Although we lack the sheer magical strengthof the other teams, I believe we can match them when it comes to wits, experience, and resourcefulness. And even when it comes to power, <<c firstname>> has it in spades—one of $them is worth at least five Mages, in my estimation." <<else>> Your team doesn't look exactly encouraged by this, but they nod uneasily regardless. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "shortly8thereafter">>

Shery lets out a surprised, choked kind of laugh, though her eyes shimmer as if she really wants to cry. Riel says drolly, "Encouraging of you, <<c rank>>. You could have been a motivational speaker in another life." You shrug. "I'm just telling it like it is." <<include "shortly8thereafter">>

Shortly thereafter, the portal pops into existence to your right, hovering in the air like a floating, floor-length mirror: through it, you can see a sun-dappled forest waiting on the other side. Taking a deep, steadying breath, Lochran and his team go through first, vanishing through the window in the air in a most unnerving manner, the image of the forest rippling around them and swallowing their bodies whole like viscous ink. Then Calixte's team goes; then Evyi's; until it goes down the line and finally comes to your turn. Holding your breath as if preparing to plunge into icy water, you step into the portal and into the labyrinth's first official trial. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "themagic8breaks">><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<set $nemekslain to 0>><</nobr>>The magic breaks around you like a brief dash of cold, scalding liquid—and then you find yourself standing in the artificial forest, blinking in the bright morning light. Shery, Riel, Chandry, and Mimir stagger into existence after you; the portal is nowhere to be seen when you glance back. You seem to have been deposited into a sunny, peaceful glade, the leafy smells of fresh litterfall and earthy loam surrounding you as branches sway and bend in the breeze. It's a gentle, serene picture; it's hard to imagine that there are deadly, carnivorous Tainted beasts roaming around somewhere beyond it. But if you turn your head and squint through the crowded treeline, you think you can make out the faint, glimmering edge of the magical boundary that separates your slice of forest from the other teams'—the border is impossible to miss, hanging in the air like a translucent, luminous curtain made of golden light. There's another on your other side, too. All in all, you seem to have about a narrow corridor of about a mile to work with, and you presume it must be the same for the other teams (though you shudder to think about the amount of magical energy that went into creating an environment big enough to hold all of you in such a spread-out manner—especially with such authenticity). When you ask the others about it, they confirm that they can't see the demarcation themselves, except for Mimir, who seems to feel it more than really see it. At your elbow, Riel stirs. "We don't have much time," he says urgently. "We need to decide our course of action. <<c firstname>>, of course, will have to handle the bulk of the fighting, but there must be some way we can arm ourselves." Chandry looks around, then stoops and holds up a large, pointed branch almost heavy enough to unbalance him. "Perhaps something like this?" he proposes. Riel looks like he's trying very hard not to curl his lip. "Nemek are covered with a toughened, chitinous hide," he says. "Almost like a shell or an exoskeleton. Even the sharpest Ket sword would have trouble piercing it, let alone a branch." Ever the peacemaker, Shery says diplomatically: "Perhaps there's some way to create weapons out of what we see?" And her eyes turn hopefully to you. <ul class="choices"> <<if ($magic gte 65 and $astral gte 65) or ($specialization is "battle" and $astral gte 55)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"That\'s a great idea." Use your battle magic to create glowing weapons out of the astral energy surrounding you.</div>' 'thats8greatidea'>><<setastral +5>><<setmagic +3>><<set $nemekslain += 5>><<if $rielromanceflag gte 10>><<set $rielromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">"That\'s a great idea." Use your battle magic to create glowing weapons out of the astral energy surrounding you.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($magic gte 65 and $astral gte 65) or ($specialization is "elementalist" and $astral gte 55)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"That\'s a great idea." Use your elemental magic to craft weapons made of ice, stone, and wood.</div>' 'use8elementalweapons'>><<setastral +5>><<setmagic +3>><<set $nemekslain += 5>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">"That\'s a great idea." Use your elemental magic to craft weapons made of ice, stone, and wood.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($magic gte 70 and $arcane gte 65) or ($specialization is "binder" and $arcane gte 55)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"That\'s a great idea." Use your binding magic to bind powerful magical energies to everyday objects around you, turning them into deadly weapons and traps.</div>' 'bindingmagic8powerful'>><<setarcane +5>><<setmagic +3>><<set $nemekslain += 5>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">"That\'s a great idea." Use your binding magic to bind powerful magical energies to everyday objects around you, turning them into deadly weapons and traps.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($magic gte 70 and $arcane gte 65) or ($specialization is "shifter" and $arcane gte 55)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"That\'s a great idea." Use your shifting magic to alter everyday materials around you into other, more useful substances and weapons.</div>' 'shiftingmagic8alters'>><<setarcane +5>><<setmagic +3>><<set $nemekslain += 5>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">"That\'s a great idea." Use your shifting magic to alter everyday materials around you into other, more useful substances and weapons.</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link '"Sorry. While that\'s a good idea, I don\'t know of a way to do that."' 'sorry8whilethats'>><</link>></li> </ul>

You concentrate, silently molding and crafting the energies swirling through the world around you into weightless, ethereal weapons. Shery yelps as they flame into existence in front of you, flying to your hand and the hands of your teammates; there's a glowing, phantom-flame version of a $mainweapon for yourself, a ghostly spear for Chandry, flickering crossbows for Riel and Shery, and a shield and short blade for Mimir. Riel's lips twitch as he surveys his own weapon, which thrums with a soft violet energy. "Impressive," he remarks. "You've been learning new tricks, <<c rank>>." <<nobr>><<if $rielromanceflag gte 10>> You wink. "Got to keep myself on the top of my game." <<else>> You nod seriously. "A Shepherd always strives to improve." <</if>><</nobr>> They won't last indefinitely—only for as long as your concentration can anchor them into existence—but they should be enough to keep your party safe during the trial ahead. <<include "its8then">>

Under your instructions, the others gather the materials that you need: you manipulate and shape supple branches into powerful bows and crossbows, use razor-sharp stone to craft deadly obsidian axes and swords, and create impossibly-hard spears and poleaxes made of crystalline ice from the river nearby. And for yourself, you shape a $mainweapon with flames that lick up and down its sides, passing over your hands harmlessly. Chandry beams and holds aloft his enormous ice-spear, protected by his gloved hands. "Wonderful!" he cries. "We look as a party of gods on a wild hunt!" <<include "its8then">>

A set of easily-shattered pinecones becomes a bandolier of magical grenades; fist-sized rocks are bound with explosive energies and liquid flame; long wooden rods and pouches of powdered lichen are charged with spells that turn them into paralyzing spores and wands that produce glittering sticky nets or blinding light. Chandry beams and holds aloft his new scepter, which produces a concussive blast when pointed and activated with a corresponding rune. "Wonderful!" he cries. "We look as a party of gods on a wild hunt!" <<include "its8then">>

You feel around with your magic, probing and shifting the materials of common objects almost at the molecular level. A flask of water from the nearby river becomes filled with caustic acid; the wood of Chandry's branch melds into purified steel harder than a dragon's scales and lighter than hollow bone. A handful of leaves become paper-thin, razor-sharp metal throwing discs; a sharp, pointed stick becomes a fine blade. Shery smiles in relief, admiring her new bow, crafted from threads of tall grass and designed to be light and swift as it can be. "This is wonderful," she breathes. "To think something so ordinary could be transformed into something so… extraordinary!" <<nobr>><<if $sheryromanceflag gte 10>> <br><br> You smile at her. "There's a lesson to be learned there." <br><br> Shery smiles back, her blue eyes glinting beneath her eyelashes, before she looks away, biting her lips as a blush rises to her cheeks. <</if>><</nobr>> "Wonderful!" Chandry echoes. "We look as a party of gods on a wild hunt!" <<include "its8then">>

Shery smiles encouragingly. "Well, it is asking for a lot," she says, sounding slightly apologetic. "Maybe we could…" <<include "its8then">>

It's then that the first Nemek crashes through the underbrush and charges you with its mouth agape. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "whatfollows8routine">><<set $nemekslain += 3>><<if $specialization is "battle">><<set $nemekslain += 5>><</if>><<if $specialization is "elementalist">><<set $nemekslain += 3>><</if>><<if $specialization is "wild" and $psionic gte 65>><<set $nemekslain += 3>><</if>><<if $magic gte 80>><<set $nemekslain += 5>><<elseif $magic gte 65>><<set $nemekslain += 3>><</if>><<if $astral gte 70>><<set $nemekslain += 4>><<elseif $astral gte 60>><<set $nemekslain += 2>><</if>><<if $strength gte 80>><<set $nemekslain += 3>><</if>><</link>></center>

<<notify_codex_bestiary "Nemek">>What follows is essentially as routine and tedious (albeit slightly more strenuous) as any swarm of Imps that you've dealt with while on patrol with Trouble or Tallys or Halek before. The grey-skinned Nemek are large, hulking beasts about the size of full-grown bulls, blank-eyed in that shark way and armed with hard, scaly ridges on their legs and back, along with thick, lashing tails that they use to sweep their prey to the ground before seizing them in their grinding razor teeth. Low-bellied and lumbering, they look like they would be slow and clumsy on land at first glance; but, at short distances, they're actually incredibly fast, lunging across the ground like a crocodile or striking viper. They are also incredibly aggressive, almost seeming to enjoy their prey's pain and suffering—perhaps that's the Tainted blood in them—and you could almost swear you see their silent, cavernous mouths form a sadistic grin whenever they catch sight of you and your team. <<nobr>><<if $specialization is "battle">> However, even coming into this without your usual weapons, they stand no match against your combat experience and battle magic. You manage to slay most on the spot with a burst of lightning or a gravity punch, and the others you ward off with basic defense and warding spells. You decide to collect their bloodied, gaping heads in a pile near to where the portal will reopen, to save yourself the trouble of having to hunt their charred bodies down again when the proctors come. <<elseif $specialization is "elementalist">> However, even coming into this without your usual weapons, they stand no match against your combat experience and control over the elements. You manage to slay most on the spot by skewering their bodies with a jagged spike from the earth, or severing their spines with a conjured spear of ice. You decide to direct the trees to hold their dripping carcasses aloft in their twisting branches, to save yourself the trouble of having to hunt down their bodies again when the proctors come. <<elseif $specialization is "healer">> Unluckily, they are also driven into a complete frenzy whenever in the vicinity of fresh blood—a fact that Magister Querida neglected to mention, and an unhappy lesson for you after Chandry falls and scrapes his knee—but you manage to lie low and avoid being hunted down yourselves with the aid of your healing magic. From the screams in the forest around you, you think the other Mages aren't so lucky in their specializations. <<elseif $specialization is "diviner">> However, you are at least forewarned and aided by your divining senses, allowing you to scry through the forest and pinpoint each Nemek's approximate location. Hunting them down while not allowing any to get the jump on you proves to be a massive advantage, especially when it comes to keeping your party safe. From the screams in the forest around you, you think the other Mages aren't so lucky in their specializations. <<elseif $specialization is "enchanter">> However, as their minds consist of little more than animal hunger and aggression, it's almost trivial to hold them in a paralyzed trance while you or one of the others skewer them with your makeshift weapons. It's almost eerie, to see such an aggressive Tainted creature holding so still that it doesn't even react to its own death, but such is your effortless vice grip over the Nemek's mind. <<elseif $specialization is "wild">> However, with the aid of your wild magic, it's almost trivial to simply turn them against each other and have them rip each other apart, saving you the effort of having to place yourself in danger. Your control over them is almost so complete that you might even be able to hold them, as docile as lambs, in front of the portal to be counted when the proctors come… but since the assignment demands their destruction, you simply sit back and allow them to devour each other. From the screams in the forest around you, you think the other Mages aren't so lucky in their specializations. <<elseif $specialization is "binder">> However, with the aid of your binding magic, it's almost trivial to sketch out a large spell-circle and lure each Nemek into a deadly trap, the magic of the circle freezing them in place once they wander into the boundary of your etched runes. From there, you can simply skewer them with your makeshift weapons, and the blood from the previous Nemek is enough to lure every other one directly into the same trap. <<elseif $specialization is "shifter">> However, even coming into this without your usual weapons, they stand no chance against your shifting magic and ability to alter the very world around them. Simple bushes become a circle of high fences to hedge the Nemek in; logs and sticks become deadly weapons to skewer them with once trapped. Once you figure out how to shift your skin into a hard chitinous armor similar to their own skin, it's all over. <<else>> Luckily for you, however, you're able to teleport yourself out of danger whenever they happen to rush you, reappearing again yards away while you and your team attack from a safe distance. From the screams in the forest around you, you think the other Mages aren't so lucky in their specializations. From the screams in the forest around you, you think the other Mages aren't so lucky in their specializations. <</if>><</nobr>> The only real oddities in what would otherwise be a fairly normal day for you are, of course, who you're fighting with. While Mimir seems significantly more clear-minded without having so many 'ghosts' of the future to crowd her vision, she still lacks the benefit of most real-world experience or observation: when handed a short blade and shield, she bangs them together like a drum, thinking she's supposed to lure the Nemek towards her by making noise. Riel is so used to being indoors that even a mildly steep hill takes away his breath, and he keeps batting aside branches with his walking stick and snarling under his breath, "Curse nature. Curse the <i>outside</i>." Shery keeps covering her eyes and whimpering in pity and sympathy whenever the Nemek are injured or killed. And Chandry is having far too good of a time, considering the circumstances. He keeps whooping and shouting, "Huzzah! 'Tis exactly as when I would hunt boar with my father during the Great Games!" Still, you do reasonably well. By the time your three hours have nearly elapsed, you've reached the western boundary cutting you off from some other team's territory, leaving a trail of Nemek bodies in your wake. Riel checks his timepiece—which strangely still works here in the past, even though you and Shery agree that doesn't feel quite right—while you and the others decide to take a breather, resting on a cluster of fallen logs just a few yards away from the shimmering golden curtain that only you can see. "Two hours and thirty minutes," he announces crisply, looking down at his expensive (and now very muddied) shoes with distaste. "We might as well simply rest here and wait out the rest of our time: I'm confident we hunted enough Nemek to pass on to the next trials. We don't need to attain first place; we only need to qualify as one of the groups to enter Saenreth—or rather, our own Tower—and return to the present day." <ul class="choices"> <<if $riel gte 65>><li><<link '"Not in first place? Riel, that\'s not like you." He\'s one of the most ruthlessly competitive people you know.' 'notin8the'>><<setriel +2>><<if $rielromanceflag gte 10>><<set $rielromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link '"You\'re right. We don\'t need to worry about anything else except staying alive and getting out of here."' 'youreright8we'>><<setintelligence +1>><<setcunning +1>><<setriel +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Uh, I don\'t know about you guys, but I\'m definitely getting first place..."' 'uhi8dont'>><<setcourage +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Riel's mouth quirks slightly as he looks at you, his blue eyes glinting thinly beneath his lashes in amusement. "We must be <i>practical</i>, <<c firstname>>," he stresses lightly. <<nobr>><<if $rielromanceflag gte 15>> "We'll have time for games… once we're safely home." <br><br> "That sounds like a promise," you note. <br><br> He is trying not to smile, not breaking eye contact with you. "Merely a statement of fact," he answers, a thin hint of playfulness in his tone. <<else>> "Much as I would enjoy putting those smug academics in their place." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "thelittle8forest">>

The others smile and nod, looking cheered by your answer. "Well," Shery says with surprising cheerfulness, "it doesn't seem as though anything else can happen within the next half an hour, so it seems that we're in the clear!" <<include "thelittle8forest">>

Chandry lets out a rousing cheer at your words, while Riel snorts lightly. "Hear, hear! That's the spirit, Shepherd friend! We'll quash those dastardly ne'er-do-wells and show them our true strength!" Shery looks around, brushing at the hem of her long skirt absently. "Well, it seems we've done all we can do for this first trial," she observes, "and there aren't any other Nemek around. So we might as well rest up for the last thirty minutes and save our strength for the second test." <<include "thelittle8forest">>

The little forest clearing you've found yourselves in grows quiet as Chandry flops unceremoniously to the ground with a dramatic groan. Mimir drifts to the sheltering shade of a drooping willow tree, while Shery rests delicately on a wooden stump and Riel wanders a few feet away to root around in the flora with his walking stick. <<include "nemekbreak">>

<ul class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("checkon8riel")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">Check on Riel.</div>' 'checkon8riel'>><<setriel +3>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("checkon8shery")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">Check on Shery.</div>' 'checkon8shery'>><<setshery +3>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("checkon8chandry")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">Check on Chandry.</div>' 'checkon8chandry'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("checkon8mimir")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">Check on Mimir.</div>' 'checkon8mimir'>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link 'Break\'s over. Tell the others you should start walking back to the portal.' 'breaksover8tell'>><</link>></li> </ul>

You stride over to where Riel is rather listlessly poking through roots and fungi with his walking cane, his brow furrowed as he flips over muddy rocks and examines their undersides. "Duke for your thoughts?" you ask him. Riel shakes his head slightly, not looking up from his inspection as he says, "I wondered if maybe the flora here would give me some idea of exactly what year this is—some variants don't exist in our time, of course—but now I'm simply caught on whether or not all of this is really Mage-made. The magister said this was an artificial forest, created specifically for this test, but…" He shakes his head again. "The level of detail here is unfathomable. How would such a thing be accomplished? Did they conjure this forest from somewhere else? Fashion each root and pebble and grub individually? Trap us in some kind of illusion? And where did the Nemek come from? Are they, too, somehow artificial, or were they simply captured and perhaps bred for this purpose?" "I think it's clear that <i>their</i> magic is completely different from <i>our</i> magic," you answer ruefully. "I can't even begin to guess how it works: you saw that man 'working the weather' with his strange contraption. I'm not even sure it's worth trying to theorize how they accomplished all this." You wave your hand at the surrounding forest. Riel still has that inward, faraway look, his mind clearly working furiously even as he stands stock-still. "The power here is awe-inspiring indeed," he murmurs absently. "And it's so casually used. One might lament how such a great civilization was toppled, or wonder what our world would be like today if it weren't…" His ice-blue eyes drift to yours. "…Or one might look at the simple farmers who dismantled it with a new respect." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'You bristle. "Are you saying you <i>admire</i> the Norms who perpetuated the Castigation?"' 'youbristle8are'>><<setriel -3>><<set $rielromanceflag -= 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'You nod slowly. "Judging by how you and the others are being treated, I think I\'m starting to understand why the Norms reacted with such force."' 'younod8slowly'>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'You shudder. "It\'s hard to imagine what our world would be like if this way of life had never gone away. I think I like our magic better."' 'youshudder8its'>><<setmagic +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Riel flicks you an indifferent but distinctly unimpressed look. "Admire is a strong word," he replies. "But I'm beginning to understand them in a way I don't think I had before. Imagine hundreds or even thousands of years of being treated like that—looked down upon, sneered at, called barbarians and simpletons. Treated as second-class citizens—or worse. And being told that this was simply the way of things, because the gods had forgotten to make you as clever or powerful as the other races, for no other reason than apparent negligence. That kind of situation breeds generations of simmering, boiling resentment and jealousy—and ultimately hatred. No wonder they rose up and struck down their oppressors. And no wonder they replaced the old faith with what they believed was a kinder, fairer god." He shrugs elegantly. "And, frankly, given the level of magical advancement that we're dealing with here, it's quite impressive that the Norms were able to match and defeat it with nothing more than their own tools and invented weaponry. You'd think they would have been crushed like insects. Barbarians, indeed." <<include "you8chat">>

Riel nods slowly. "I'm not saying I condone it, of course, but I'm beginning to understand it in a way I don't think I had before. Imagine hundreds or even thousands of years of being treated like that—looked down upon, sneered at, called barbarians and simpletons. Treated as second-class citizens—or worse. And being told that this was simply the way of things, because the gods had forgotten to make us as clever or powerful as the other races, for no other reason than apparent negligence. That kind of situation breeds generations of simmering, boiling resentment and jealousy—and ultimately hatred. No wonder they rose up and struck down their oppressors. And no wonder they replaced the old faith with what they believed was a kinder, fairer god." <<include "you8chat">>

Riel nods slowly, still thinking on it. "Our way seems to far more intuitive and streamlined," he says, almost to himself. "It relies more on your willpower and strength to force or bend reality to obey your whims. If you will a piece of paper to float in front of you, it only matters if you have the magical strength and mental control to make it happen. But their magic—I think Red once referred to it as charter magic—seems to be wrapped up in a multitude of unspoken, complex laws and equations. They can make a piece of paper levitate—and a great deal more—but they seem to need many more external tools as well as foreign esoterica to memorize before they do it; it seems to involve hours of calculation." You nod, thinking of the conversation you had with Shery in the Vaults, before this whole mess ever took place. "I couldn't imagine having to do a scroll's work of <i>math</i> before I could light a flame or clean a dish with my magic." Riel smiles slightly. "Well, perhaps we should take care not to give our secrets away to the other Mages—it might vastly skew the natural progress of history. Academic rivals are notoriously jealous and secretive, anyway, so at least we have a fitting cover." <<include "you8chat">>

You chat for a while longer, but you begin to notice that Riel looks tired; despite the fact that he hasn't voiced a single complaint so far, you know all of this exertion must be taking its toll on him. You pull out the one water canteen that your group happened to have on-hand—courtesy of Chandry and his mysterious pockets—and offer it to him. "Want a drink?" <<nobr>><<if $rielromanceflag gte 25 or $riel gte 90>> Riel hesitates for a long, long moment, looking down at the shared canteen as if it will bite him. He has an intense look of conflicted concentration on his face… before his eyes dart up to yours and he inclines his head slightly, accepting the flask and raising it to his lips. For some reason, the sign of trust gives you a flush of warmth; it feels like a concession, a small intimacy between the two of you that he wouldn't give to anyone else. <br><br> "Thank you," you tell him, smiling as he passes the flask back. "For a moment, I feared you'd make this difficult by being fussy." You know that he has certain hangups when it comes to sanitation and germs… and sharing things… and being untidy… <<else>> Riel eyes the canteen for a long, long moment, looking at it as dubiously as if he fears it will bite him. Finally his nostrils flare in distaste as he says, with stiff politeness, "No, thank you." <br><br> You sigh, withdrawing the water flask. You know that Riel has certain hangups when it comes to sanitation and germs, but if he doesn't hydrate properly, he might faint. "How did you get this far in life while being so fussy?" <</if>><</nobr>> Riel sniffs, looking vaguely affronted. "I am not <i>fussy</i>," he answers. "I am <i>fastidious</i>. Organized. A certain predisposition for order is understandable in life, is it not?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Not if it makes you a control freak." ' 'notif8it'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"In many situations, yes. But when you\'re out in the field, with mud and blood and viscera and the like? Not so much."' 'inmany8situations'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You have to learn to let go and relax a little. Isn\'t there anything you do to blow off stress, loosen up some?"' 'youhave8to'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I suppose you\'re right. Better to be disposed towards order than the other way around."' 'isuppose8youre'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Riel looks briefly outraged, his sharp cheekbones going rigid with disapproval. <<nobr>><<if $chase gte 90 or $chaseromanceflag gte 10>> "You've been spending too much time in the company of a certain thief," he answers, narrow-eyed and stiff with affront. "That's exactly what <i>he</i> calls me." <br><br> You bite the inside of your lip, trying to keep a straight face. "You do have to admit that you're a <i>little</i> controlling, Riel. You banned <<if $cainejoin is true>> Caine <<else>> Trouble <</if>> from your office just for moving one of your pens." <br><br> "They were arranged at exact right angles and in an order designed for maximum efficiency," Riel mutters to himself in a mutinous voice. "Anyone would have been upset." <<else>> "A control freak," he echoes indignantly. "Never in my life has anyone called me that." <br><br> You bite the inside of your lip, trying to keep a straight face. "I suppose no one in your life has been quite honest with you, then. You do have to admit that you're a <i>little</i> controlling, Riel. You banned <<if $cainejoin is true>> Caine <<else>> Trouble <</if>> from your office just for moving one of your pens." <br><br> "They were arranged at exact right angles and in an order designed for maximum efficiency," Riel mutters to himself in a mutinous voice. "Anyone would have been upset." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "thenhe8sighs">>

Riel huffs, as if this statement is ridiculous. "Yes, but when would I ever be expected to be in the field?" He holds up a hand. "Except for this very unusual, very extraordinary situation." "Well, you are one of the commanders now," you point out. "And in that capacity, you never know what you'll be expected to do. What if there's a war and you have to review the troops? What if someone attempts to assassinate you while you're traveling and you have to flee into the woods?" Riel gives you a very droll look. "If any of those things happen, I think I'll be able to offset my need for tidiness long enough to muddle through." <<include "thenhe8sighs">>

Riel gives you a very droll look. "Yes, <<c firstname>>, I do many things to relieve stress. <i>I just can't do any of them here</i>." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"And what are they?"' 'andwhat8are'>><</link>></li> <<if $rielromanceflag gte 10>><li><<link '"Pray tell, what sorts of things do you do to \'relieve stress\'?" <b>[INNUENDO]</b>' 'praytell8whatsorts'>><<set $rielromanceflag += 3>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link '"All right, all right, fair enough."' 'allright8all'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Riel's brow furrows. "I enjoy the opera," he says after a moment. "A fine meal. Tea, sweets. Reading… work—" Then he makes an impatient huff and waves his hand irritably. "The point is, I can enjoy life, <<c firstname>>—that isn't the issue. It's just… my personality to be punctilious. It has nothing to do with stress. Even if I were the most relaxed man in the world, I would still be annoyed by… the things that annoy me. It's simply who I am. I've been this way since I was a small child." <<include "thenhe8sighs">>

Riel's eyes narrow slightly as he processes your tone, as if he's searching for your hidden meaning; then realization abruptly dawns on him, and he coughs slightly and tugs at his starched collar. "I…" For a rare moment, he seems at a loss of what to say. "Ahem. Nothing of that nature, I assure you." "What, not <i>ever</i>?" you ask, mock-surprised. A flush begins to creep up Riel's pale skin. "This is neither here nor there," he says abruptly, looking away. "The point is, my <i>stress</i> isn't the issue here; it's simply in my nature to be punctilious. No amount of…. stress relief would change that." He shifts uncomfortably, as if he has a pebble in both shoes. <<include "thenhe8sighs">>

He smiles thinly. "It's not as if I don't appreciate the thought," he adds. "But it isn't <i>stress</i> that causes me to be this way—it's just who I am. Even if I were the most relaxed man in the world, these things would continue to irk me. It's as engrained in me as… my intelligence, or my ambition." <<include "thenhe8sighs">>

Riel smiles thinly. "Unlike certain people we know," he says in a mild tone of voice. <<include "thenhe8sighs">>

Then he sighs and looks down at himself, eyeing the stains and scuffs on his tailored pant legs with visceral displeasure. "Though I will admit," he drawls, "that it would nice to be as unbothered as Trouble is whenever he's in a state of disarray. I do not know how people can tolerate being so… unkempt." He's technically right: he is more disheveled than you've ever seen him, his fine black hair unusually mussed from all of the running around, his expensive, mirror-polished shoes now splattered with mud. A faint flush of exertion lends color to his delicate, bony face. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"It actually looks quite good on you." <b>[FLIRT]</b>' 'itactually8looks'>><<if $rielromanceflag gte 12>><<set $rielromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Maybe you could ask Saenreth for reimbursement."' 'maybeyou8could'>><<setriel +1>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You know what? It really isn\'t that bad. You look healthy. Maybe you should take up running, or something."' 'youknow8what'>><</link>></li> </ul>

<<nobr>><<if $rielromanceflag gte 12>> <<if $ace is false and $aroace is false>> It makes you think of all the other ways you could make him lose his composure. Ruffle his feathers and fluster him more. <br><br> <</if>> <</if>><</nobr>> Riel tsks and throws you an unamused look. "Don't mock me, <<c firstname>>," he says tartly. "My temper is rather frayed at the moment." You shake your head. "I was being serious, Riel." "Ludicrous," he mutters, waving you away. "I'm splattered and stained with the heavens-know-what. In no world could that ever be remotely appealing." Then he looks up and actually makes a tetchy shooing motion towards you. "Go away now. Leave me in peace while I attempt to put myself to rights." You hide a smile as you turn back to the others. <<include "nemekbreak">>

Riel snorts at your quip, waving you away as he pulls out a spotless handkerchief and kneels to flick something off of his pant leg. "I'm not sure they'd have the coin to replace this shirt," he mutters. "It was handmade by a master seamstress: only one of its kind exists." Then he looks up and actually makes a tetchy shooing motion towards you. "Go away now. Leave me in peace while I attempt to put myself to rights." You hide a smile as you turn back to the others. <<include "nemekbreak">>

Sitting behind that desk and bending over papers all day and night can't be good for him. Riel tsks as if this were the most outlandish, ludicrous suggestion ever made; he pulls out a spotless handkerchief and kneels to flick something off of his pant leg. "Go away now," he says, making a tetchy shooing motion at you and not even deigning to grace your suggestion with a response. "Leave me in peace while I attempt to put myself to rights." You hide a smile as you turn back to the others. <<include "nemekbreak">>

You make your way over to Shery, who's sitting daintily on her stump and rubbing her ankle, wincing slightly. She hastily straightens when she senses your approach and blurts, "Oh! <<c firstname>>—did you need something?" "Just checking on you," you reply, sitting easily across from her on the fallen log of the tree that formed her stump. "How are you holding up?" Shery bites her lip and casts her large blue eyes downward, but her tone remains falsely bright as she replies, "Oh… I'm all right. Th-thank you for your concern… but I really haven't had to do much. You and the others are doing all the work." You scrutinize her closely. "Is something on your mind?" Shery colors slightly. "Um… how did you know?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I\'m good at reading people."' 'imgood8at'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You\'re not hard to read, Shery..."' 'yourenot8hard'>><</link>></li> <<if $shery gte 70>><li><<link '"We\'re friends. Of course I can sense how you\'re feeling."' 'were8friends'>><<setshery +3>><<if $sheryromanceflag gte 10>><<set $sheryromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li><</if>> </ul>

Shery smiles. "I suppose I have noticed that," she admits. "That's probably part of the reason why people like you so much…" Then she ducks her head, her face obscured by her curtainfall of pale hair. <<include "ijust8she">>

Every emotion shows clearly on her face. She colors further, proving your point. <<include "ijust8she">>

Shery ducks her head, but you think the look on her face is an enormously pleased one—even if it is hidden by her curtainfall of pale hair. <<include "ijust8she">>

"I just…" She sighs, flexing her upturned hands in her lap. "I just feel terribly useless here. I can't… <i>do</i> anything. I'm only a burden—I'm letting you and the others take on all the hardship without being able to help at all. Riel has his wits, Mimir has her ability to see the future, and even Chandry is… surprisingly strong." She glances ruefully at the clown, who has appeared to fallen into a dead sleep on the ground, before continuing, "At least at home, I have skills that can be of use. I m-may not be able to fight as well as <<nobr>><<if $strength gte 75>> you or <</if>><</nobr>> Briony or Blade, or command the room like Riel or Trouble or Lavinet, or use magic or grace like Red or Ayla or Halek… but at least I can make sure everyone comes back to a comfortable home after a hard mission, and see they're well well-fed and warm at the end of a long day. But here…" She wrings her hands in distress. "…I can't do any of that. No one needs, needs <i>book-keeping</i> or anything like that—and so I feel quite worthless." She gives a kind of shrug of despair. <ul class="choices"> <<if ($shery gte 50 and $charisma gte 50) and $compassionate gte 55>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"That\'s just not true. You have plenty to contribute."</div>' 'justnot8true'>><<setcharisma +1>><<setshery +3>><<if $gender is "female">><<set $sheryromanceflag += 1>><</if>><<if $sheryromanceflag gte 20>><<set $sheryromanceflag += 2>><</if>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">"That\'s just not true. You have plenty to contribute."</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link '"I see. I understand how you could feel frustrated."' 'isee8iunderstand'>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setshery +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Well, don\'t worry about it. We just have to make the best of this situation."' 'welldont8worry'>><<setshery -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Seriously? You\'re moping about your self-worth while we\'re trapped in the past by a crazy labyrinth spell?"' 'seriously8youre'>><<fair_plus "$compassionate" -10>><<setcharisma -3>><<fair_plus "$shery" -10>><<if $sheryromanceflag gte 5>><<set $sheryromanceflag -= 7>><</if>><<set $chandry -= 2>><</link>></li> </ul>

Shery blushes. "That's kind of you to say, <<c firstname>>, but… I just don't see how that could be true." "Well," you say encouragingly, "your value doesn't <i>just</i> lie in your book-keeping, you know. You're extremely bright, more than you give yourself credit for. You can absorb and retain an impressive amount of information—I mean, just look at how knowledgeable you are about Archmage Tangriel and the history of the Tower, and the kinds of magic they performed in this time period, and everything you know about Haven and its past. That alone already makes you the perfect asset for this mission." "Oh, I don't…" "And you're brave," you continue. "A lot of people in your position would have fallen to pieces by now. Do you think your everyday civilian or aristocrat would have borne this up so calmly? And you're kind. You look after everyone; you noticed when Chandry scraped his knee and gave him your handkerchief earlier, didn't you? You keep the peace between us, and you notice the little things we don't have time to observe about each other. We're all looking to you to keep the morale up. You're kind of like the heart of the group, you know?" <<nobr>><<if $sheryromanceflag gte 20>> You find that you could go on—in fact, you might be on the precipice of blurting out something unwise, looking at her sitting so prettily in front of you—but before you can continue, Shery lets out a choked laugh. <<else>> Shery lets out a choked laugh. <</if>><</nobr>> "Thank you, <<c firstname>>," she whispers, lifting her spectacles and dashing impatiently at her eyes. "You're… you're very kind." <<include "thenshe8sighs">>

Shery nods dolefully. "I won't let it slow us down," she whispers. "It's just how I'm feeling at the moment, but pay me no mind." <<include "thenshe8sighs">>

Shery sighs, then nods dolefully. "I suppose you're right." <<include "thenshe8sighs">>

Shery flinches, staring hard down at her shoes. You can't see her eyes thanks to her hair, but from the thickened sound of her voice, you suspect she might be holding back tears. "You're right," she whispers. "I… I'm just being silly. Pay me no mind." She follows silent, still staring stubbornly down at the ground, so eventually you rise to your feet and turn to check on the others. <<include "nemekbreak">>

Then she sighs and adds, "I suppose a lot of this feeling is guilt, as well. I can't help but feel that if I hadn't been down in the Vaults, none of this would have happened… you and Mimir and Chandry and Riel would not have been in there if not for me… and if we hadn't been in that particular room when the defense spells went off, we wouldn't have found ourselves trapped here." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Are you kidding? We should be thanking you. This is the adventure of a lifetime!"' 'areyou8kidding'>><<setshery +3>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Well, if we\'re assigning blame, you could just as easily blame Chandry for bringing in the box in the first place... or me for opening it."' 'wellif8were'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"But what if we <i>hadn</i>\'t been in the Vault when we triggered the tower\'s defenses? Something even worse could have happened to us. What if we\'d been killed?"' 'whatif8hadnt'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Shery laughs then, the sound sweet and merry. "You really think so?" You pump your fist in the air. "Of course! Who else has the chance to actually go back to a time before the Castigation and see what life in Haven was like? I guarantee you that we'll be the target of so much envy and jealousy when we get back." Softening slightly, you add, "Don't worry so much, Shery. We're all alive and together, and that's what matters. Shepherds go through things like this all the time. Don't waste time feeling bad about it." Shery gives you a watery smile. "I suppose you have a point… as always." <<include "youchat8for">>

"A lot of factors had to happen in order for us to end up here," you point out. "Stop trying to take on the lion's share of the blame for yourself. Things happen—no one could have predicted this. It's not your fault any more than it is anyone else's." Shery gives you a watery smile. "I suppose you have a point… as always." <<include "youchat8for">>

"What if you actually saved our lives by being in the Vault?" you ask sensibly. "If you look at it that way, we should be thanking you." Shery's face looks pale at the implication. "I'm not sure that the Tower would kill someone just for bringing in a malignant spell…" she begins doubtfully. "Well, we couldn't have predicted that it would <i>teleport us back to the past</i>, either," you reply. "So who knows what would have happened? It's all hypotheticals, anyway. So you can choose to either look at it like you're at fault, or you can look at it like we're lucky it wasn't worse. I, for one, would pick these trials over being crushed by a dropped bolder or swarmed by attack-spirits in some kind of esoteric booby trap." Shery lets out a laugh, the sound sweet and merry. "I suppose I would, too." <<include "youchat8for">>

You chat for a while longer, though you notice that Shery keeps shifting on her stump, making subtle faces as if she's in discomfort, though she valiantly attempts to keep up the flow of conversation. When she discreetly rubs at her ankle for the fourth time, you ask shrewdly, "Is something wrong with your ankle?" "Oh, no," she answers hastily, taking her hand away. "It's… it's nothing, I'm fine!" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Let the matter drop.' 'letthe8matter'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Press her. "Shery..."' 'press8her'>><<setshery +3>><</link>></li> </ul>

Shery seems relieved by your change in subject, and you talk for a while more before you rise and turn your attention back to the others. <<include "nemekbreak">>

At your slight warning tone, Shery colors, but she says meekly enough: "It's really not an issue… I think I might have rolled my ankle on a tree root, that's all." "What! Why didn't you say anything?" Her eyes trail away from yours. "I didn't want to worry anyone, or be a bother…" <ul class="choices"> <<if $specialization is "healer">><li><<link 'I\'m a <i>Healer</i>, why wouldn\'t you let me heal you?" Kneel to take a look at her ankle.' 'healshery'>><<setmagic +1>><<setastral +1>><<if $gender is "female">><<set $sheryromanceflag += 1>><<if $sheryromanceflag gte 15>><<set $sheryromanceflag += 5>><</if>><</if>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $specialization is not "healer" and $astral gte 60>><li><<link '"Why would you suffer in silence when I could just heal you?" Kneel to take a look at her ankle.' 'healshery'>><<setmagic +1>><<setastral +1>><<if $gender is "female">><<set $sheryromanceflag += 1>><<if $sheryromanceflag gte 15>><<set $sheryromanceflag += 5>><</if>><</if>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link 'Reassure her as you kneel to take a look at her ankle. "Your health and wellbeing is not a <i>bother</i>, Shery. We want to know these things if they happen."' 'nohealshery'>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setshery +1>><<if $sheryromanceflag gte 15>><<set $sheryromanceflag += 5>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Scold her gently as you kneel to take a look at her ankle. "You could make an injury worse by continuing to walk on it. The first rule of fieldwork? Take care of yourself well enough to make it back home."' 'nohealshery'>><<setloyal +1>><<if $sheryromanceflag gte 15>><<set $sheryromanceflag += 5>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Sigh. "Well, I\'m impressed that you managed to stay quiet. You\'re made of tougher stuff than I thought."' 'sighwellimimpressed'>><</link>></li> </ul>

"I didn't want you to expend your magic in case we needed it for later—<i>eek</i>! <i>What are you doing</i>?!" With a yelp of embarrassed surprise, she tries to jump back as you kneel in front of her and take her ankle in a firm but gentle Healer's grip, sending out your magic to test for further hidden injuries. <<nobr>><<if $sheryromanceflag gte 15>> You can feel Shery trembling slightly beneath your touch as you gingerly rotate her ankle, flexing it and turning it this way and that. The bare skin of her leg feels warm and impossibly soft and delicate against your touch, but you try to ignore that realization in order to focus on the task at hand. <</if>><</nobr>> There's a very slight swelling along one ligament; Shery shivers and lets out a soft breath of relief as you use just a touch of your magic to smooth it away. <<nobr>><<if $sheryromanceflag gte 15>> <br><br> It takes several moments of silent concentration, but when you finally look up, you find Shery looking down at you, seemingly utterly transfixed by your face, her lips slightly parted as if mesmerized. You are kneeling very close to her, and from this angle you see how the light catches on her pale eyelashes, how she smells sweetly of warm vanilla; how the hem of her long skirt whispers against the back of your hand as she shifts. Shery bites her lip, her eyes drifting over your face and down to your mouth… <br><br> And then, as if you'd burned her, she suddenly yanks her leg out of your grip and leans back, almost toppling off the back of her stump in her haste. "Oh! That… that feels much better!" <<else>> "Oh," she breathes. "That feels… so much better." <</if>><</nobr>> Then she smiles at you and breathes in sincere appreciation: "Thank you, <<c firstname>>." <<nobr>><<if $sheryromanceflag gte 20>> You drop your hand, trying not to feel disappointed, as you say, "It's not a problem. Tell me if you're hurt again, will you?" <br><br> Shery gifts you with another smile. "I will." <br><br> After a slightly breathless, airless moment of just staring at each other, you break eye contact and turn back to the others. When you glance back, you espy Shery sitting on the stump, covering her flushed face with both hands as if completely overwhelmed by the growing heat of the day. <<else>> You smile back and set her leg back down on the ground. "No problem. Tell me if you're hurt again, will you? It's not worth hobbling around when I can fix you up within a few moments." <br><br> She laughs unsteadily. "You're right. I'll be sure to say something next time." <br><br> After making sure that she's all right, you leave her to her rest and turn your attention back to the others. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "nemekbreak">>

Shery blushes as you begin to kneel in front of her. "I suppose that's true… <i>eep! What are you doing</i>?" With a yelp of embarrassed surprise, she tries to jump back as you take her ankle in a firm but gentle grip, gingerly rotating and flexing it to test the injury. <<nobr>><<if $sheryromanceflag gte 15>> The bare skin of her leg feels warm and impossibly soft and delicate against your touch, but you try to ignore that realization in order to focus on the task at hand. <</if>><</nobr>> She doesn't react when you stretch the ankle to its full extent, which is promising; she hasn't sprained or broken it, at least. "I think you'll be fine, especially once you get a chance to rest for more than a few minutes," you begin perfunctorily. "But if you notice any swelling or intense pain, tell me right away. I'm sure the Mages running the tournament have some kind of Healer on hand, or at least a salve—and if that's against the rules, we can at least use ice." <<nobr>><<if $sheryromanceflag gte 15>> You look up as you say this, and you find Shery looking down at you, seemingly utterly transfixed by your face, her lips slightly parted as if mesmerized. You are kneeling very close to her, and from this angle you see how the light catches on her pale eyelashes, how she smells sweetly of warm sugar and vanilla; how the hem of her long skirt whispers against the back of your hand as she shifts. Shery bites her lip, her eyes drifting over your face and down to your mouth… <br><br> And then, as if you'd burned her, she suddenly yanks her leg out of your grip and leans back, almost toppling off the back of her stump in her haste. "Oh! That… that feels much better!" <br><br> You blink. "I… didn't do anything." <br><br> "Just knowing that you looked at it helps," Shery blurts, tucking her leg demurely underneath her skirt. "Um… yes, it feels… wonderful! I mean, not <i>too</i> wonderful, just—the normal amount—" She blushes furiously and finishes in a tiny voice, "What I mean to say is… I feel fine now!" <<else>> You look up as you saw this, and you find Shery looking down at you with a shy, fond smile on her face: it's a look of total, sparkling adoration. For a moment you feel enfolded—and a little taken aback—by platonic love. <</if>><</nobr>> Then she smiles at you and breathes in sincere appreciation: "Thank you, <<c firstname>>." <<nobr>><<if $sheryromanceflag gte 20>> You drop your hand, trying not to feel disappointed, as you say, "It's not a problem. Tell me if you're hurt again, will you?" <br><br> Shery gifts you with another smile. "I will." <br><br> After a slightly breathless, airless moment of just staring at each other, you break eye contact and turn back to the others. When you glance back, you espy Shery sitting on the stump, covering her flushed face with both hands as if completely overwhelmed by the growing heat of the day. <<else>> You set her leg back down on the ground with a smile. "You're welcome, $firstname. Tell me if you're hurt again, will you? We all have to look out for each other, so it's no use keeping it to yourself." <br><br> She laughs unsteadily. "You're right. I'll be sure to say something next time." <br><br> After another few moments of making sure that she's all right, you leave her to her rest and turn your attention back to the others. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "nemekbreak">>

Shery offers you a pleased smile. "I always have had a high pain tolerance," she states shyly. "But really, if I thought it was untenable, I… I would say something. So please, don't waste any time worrying about me." After spending a few more minutes making sure that she really is all right, you leave her to her rest and turn your attention back to the others. <<include "nemekbreak">>

You wander over to Chandry, who is sprawled spread-eagle across the leafy forest floor, seemingly dead asleep. He cracks open his painted eyelids as you approach and says muzzily, "Is it time to move on, captain?" <<nobr>><<if $rank is "Commander">> You frown. <i>Captain?</i> Has he forgotten that you're a commander now? Perhaps it's simply one of his strange turns of phrase. <<elseif $rank is "Officer">> You frown. <i>Captain?</i> Has he forgotten that you're only an officer? Perhaps it's simply one of his strange turns of phrase. <</if>><</nobr>> "Not yet, Chandry," you answer, not quite sure how else to respond. The clown nods, and after a few long moments of staring at each other in silence, you feel compelled to ask: "So… what was all of that you were shouting… about hunting boar with your father?" <<nobr>><<if $charisma gte 60>> If you weren't so perceptive, you would have missed the slight glimmer of Chandry's irises as his eyes widen imperceptibly, just by a fraction. However, his voice remains as calm as ever as he replies, "Just as I said, my Shepherd friend. My father and I hunted boar together once. During the high holidays. But only just the once! I was not a very good huntsman then, you see. I rode an old donkey, whom I loved dearly, but he brayed and scared off all the game." " <<else>> Chandry seems completely disinterested in this topic; his eyes slide shut again as he answers casually, "Just as I said, my Shepherd friend. My father and I hunted boar together once. During the high holidays. But only just the once! I was not a very good huntsman then, you see. I rode an old donkey, whom I loved dearly, but he brayed and scared off all the game." <</if>><</nobr>> "I thought only aristocrats hunted boar," you state. Chandry smiles at you sleepily. "Not where I'm from, my dear friend." "Which is?" "A companion, brave Shepherd, a twin to one's very soul—" "No, Chandry, I'm not asking what a <i>friend</i> is, I'm asking where you're from." "Ah! 'Tis a simple answer, my bosom-friend! I am from Leyholm, in the fair West." Leyholm is a very far way from Haven, though not bizarrely so: <<nobr>><<if $heritage is "Norm">> Ayla, after all, comes from even farther west, and you yourself are from Westwood. <<else>> Ayla, after all, comes from Jalis, which is even farther west. <</if>><</nobr>> "When did you first come to Haven?" "Sometime during the Flowering Era, I think," he answers cheerfully. That startles a laugh out of you. "What, five hundred years ago?" He frowns, kneading his forehead with his closed fist in thought as he stares up at the forest canopy in concentration. "Is that when the Flowering Era was? Then perhaps the Discovery Era, after all? But no, I was in Kinley then… Then was it after?" He look at you and says mournfully, "The details are difficult to remember, my Shepherd friend. I have been in Haven many times, not including <i>this</i> time." He waves vaguely at the forest around you. "I like to come and go, you see, as a butterfly flits from flower to flower, a passenger on the voyage of life. " Sighing, you give up trying to extract any sense from him and leave the mad clown to his nap. Good-naturedly, he drops back into a dead sleep, as perfectly unperturbed as before. <<include "nemekbreak">>

You find Mimir crouched on the ground, one arm wrapped around her bony knees as she intently plucks blades of grass, examining each thin stem as if she's never seen it in such detail before. She doesn't look up as you crouch alongside her and ask, "How are you holding up?" "Fine," Mimir answers in her usual dead tone. She discards the piece of grass she's been scrutinizing and reaches to pluck another. "I am… adjusting. It feels very strange not to see… what I usually see. This must be what it feels like to have a dream." "What do you normally dream about?" you ask her. She shrugs. "I never remember. Most of the time I just see… blackness. But no ghosts, either. So it's like this." You can't tell if she's relieved to be free of the burden of her foresight, or if she's merely observing its absence, indifferent either way. <<include "mimirnemektalk">>

Mimir shrugs. "Perhaps it is as the merchant prince said," she intones, tipping her head slightly towards Riel. "Perhaps their fates are already written—perhaps nothing we do can change them, and so there are no different reflections of them for me to see. By the time we'll be born, they'll be long dead. My sight simply may not travel backwards in that way, forward-looking as it is. Perhaps the past cancels my future visions out." "That would make sense," you say, mulling it over. She shrugs again. "Or perhaps this is all an illusion. Just another dream I won't remember when I wake up." <<include "mimirnemektalk">>

Mimir looks up and blinks at you, very slowly. You have the unnerving insight that her silvery eyes have never looked so directly <i>at</i> you, before; they always seemed to be looking past you. "I do not know how I feel," she admits. "If you had spent your entire life only seeing the world in shades of gray, how would you feel when confronted with the color red for the first time?" You think on it. "I'd probably feel overwhelmed," you tell her. "Excited, maybe, or perhaps apprehensive. Maybe I'd even miss the old way, the way I'd gotten used to seeing things." Mimir nods slowly. "You and I understand each other better than most. Perhaps it is because we are both <i>kithma</i>, of a like." <<include "mimirnemektalk">>

She shrugs idly, seemingly disinterested in the topic. "As I've told you before, although we are technically both Mage-blooded in flesh, my powers are not exactly magic, and yours only mostly so, because you were fashioned to be that way. But most magic is as foreign to me as it would be to the clown or to Shery. I have no insight on how they perform it in this time any better than I know how you do it, or the tall red one or the small pink one." You surmise she's talking about Red and Briony. <<include "mimirnemektalk">>

She nods absently. "I'm hungry." Back at the compound, she often forgets to eat unless someone—usually Shery—physically places food in her hands. "I'm sure they'll let us eat once this trial is over: these events always have some kind of celebratory aspect." You think of that terrible dinner you attended with Jarkyth in Heth Macoll, then shake it off. Mimir frowns and looks up, as if she sensed this shadow passing over your thoughts, but if she actually knows anything, she doesn't say. "Are you doing all right, otherwise? No aches or pains we should know about?" Mimir shakes her head slowly. "No. In fact, I am having a pleasant time." Well, then. "That's… uh… that's great." Mimir nods and turns intently back to the grass. <<include "mimirnemektalk">>

"Plucking it," she answers simply. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Right. Well... I\'ll leave you to it."' 'mimirnemektalk'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Yes, but why?"' 'yesbut8why'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"...Is it fun?"' 'dotis8it'>><<setmimir +3>><</link>></li> </ul>

She shrugs. "It was there." Huh. <<include "mimirnemektalk">>

Mimir nods without looking up. You decide to give it a try for yourself, and there is indeed something soothing about ripping up the cool fresh blades, twirling them between your thumb and index finger, and then letting them drop back to the ground. The two of you crouch there and pluck grass in silence for several moments before Riel's increasingly concerned look finally makes you snap out of it. <<include "mimirnemektalk">>

<<nobr>><<if $mimir gte 50>> "Wait," Mimir says as you begin to walk away. "I wanted to tell you something. I can't see much about your current futures—everything is a blur, and there are so many things I don't understand…" She shakes her head faintly, her pale brow furrowing. "But I think… it's something about these trials. I don't think they're what they seem." <br><br> You pause, waiting for any further details or clarification, but that's all Mimir seems to know. Thanking her for her insight, you turn your attention back to the others. <<include "nemekbreak">> <<else>> <<include "nemekbreak">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Riel sighs, nods, and rotates his wrist, rubbing it as if it's sore. "Very well," he says wearily. "The proctors should be arriving shortly to tally up our scores. We'll have to—" <<include "outof8nowhere">>

Out of nowhere, a blood-curdling scream sounds just feet from where you're standing. Everyone in the glade—except for Mimir—jumps to their feet in alarm, and you feel adrenaline and battle-alertness crank your senses up in a dizzying surge of clarity and heat. You whirl to face the threat, but quickly realize that your side of the glade remains clear. The screams are coming from beyond your immediate proximity… on the other side of the magical barrier. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "outof8nowherei">><</link>></center>

There is a tremendous commotion from the underbrush, the sounds of snapping twigs and frantic, panicky movement. To your surprise, you see a woman dragging herself out backwards from a snarl of tangled thickets on the other side of the golden curtain, cradling a badly-broken arm; one side of her face is swollen and streaked with blood. She looks disorientated, unarmed, and terrified out of her wits. The reason for her panic soon makes itself known; a Nemek emerges from the undergrowth as well, lumbering slowly, taking its time, as if savoring the woman's fear and pain. Its eyes are white and blank with the trance-like blood-lust that all Nemek experience once they've scented fresh blood. Hundreds of rows of pointed teeth hang open in silent demand; the creature is so quiet that it doesn't even seem to be breathing, patiently stalking the woman as she tries to scramble away from it. With her injuries, it's clear she's not going to get very far; she can't even pull herself up onto her feet without turning her back on the Nemek and giving it the opportunity it needs to pounce, and it's only a matter of time before it simply lunges forward and devours her. You look around, but no other people are in sight on her side of the border. Has her entire team been killed? The woman looks backwards, as if searching desperately for any kind of escape, and her eyes land on you. She screams out, "Don't just stand there! <i>Help me</i>!" Looking at her tear-stricken face, you finally have a jolt of realization: this frightened Mage is Eyvi, the short-haired young woman who insulted Chandry and Shery just a few hours ago by insinuating they couldn't read. Before you can answer her, Shery comes up to you and grasps your sleeve. "We have to help her," she whispers. "The trials won't end for another ten minutes—she'll be killed by then!" "But wait," Riel warns from your other side. "Remember what Magister Querida said: crossing into someone else's territory is one of the few rules of the first trial. It will result in instant disqualification. If you help that woman, we may lose our chance of ever going home." "Surely they would make an exception for saving a person's life!" Chandry cries. "I don't know," Riel answers in a low voice. "They did say that Mages are killed during this tournament. Perhaps this is simply an accepted risk of signing up." Eyvi is sobbing desperately as the Nemek advances upon her; its snout is now perpendicular to the tip of her dragging foot. "<i>Please</i>," she sobs, mucus running down her nose and chin. "Please, please help me, I don't want to die…" Shery is practically squirming with impatience. "We have to do something!" she exclaims. "Perhaps we can shoot across the barrier without crossing it—" You raise your hand and lob a ball of flame at the golden curtain of light, but—just as you suspected—it effortlessly absorbs your magic, rippling faintly before settling into sparkling stillness again. When Chandry throws a rock, the same thing happens; it merely bounces off. "No good." <i>They probably did that to keep teams from sabotaging or tampering with each other's scores.</i> "If anyone's going to help her, they'll have to do it by crossing over." The Nemek makes a sudden barking cough, jerking forward abruptly and seizing Eyvi's pantleg in its teeth, shaking its head and worrying away at it. She lets out a horrible, high-pitched scream that makes your throat sting. Shery moves as if to run forward to help her. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Stop the others. "No. We can\'t risk being trapped here. We have to do whatever it takes to win the trials and escape the labyrinth."' 'watcheyvidie'>><<setcompassionate -10>><<setcunning +5>><<setriel +3>><<fair_plus "$shery" -15>><<if $sheryromanceflag gte 8>><<set $sheryromanceflag -= 3>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Stop the others. "She knew what she was signing up for. This isn\'t our problem."' 'watcheyvidie'>><<fair_plus "$compassionate" -15>><<if $sheryromanceflag gte 5>><<set $sheryromanceflag -= 10>><</if>><<setloyal -10>><<fair_plus "$shery" -25>><<set $chandry -= 2>><</link>></li> <<if $compassionate lt 40>><li><<link 'Stop the others. "Fuck her. I won\'t lift a finger to help someone who treated you the way she did."' 'watcheyvidie'>><<fair_plus "$compassionate" -20>><<if $gender is "male" and $rielromanceflag gte 15>><<set $rielromanceflag += 1>><</if>><<if $sheryromanceflag gte 8>><<set $sheryromanceflag -= 5>><</if>><<fair_plus "$loyal" -15>><<fair_plus "$shery" -20>><<setreputation -1>><<set $chandry -= 1>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link 'Plunge forward to help Evyi. "Damn it all to Hael."' 'saveeyvi'>><<setcompassionate +5>><<fair_plus "$shery" +10>><<setcunning -3>><<set $chandry += 1>><<setreputation +1>><<setloyal +5>><<setstrength +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Plunge forward to help Eyvi. "Hold on! We\'re coming!"' 'saveeyvi'>><<setcompassionate +7>><<setcharisma +1>><<fair_plus "$shery" +10>><<if $sheryromanceflag gte 10>><<set $sheryromanceflag += 2>><</if>><<setcunning -3>><<set $chandry += 1>><<setreputation +1>><<setloyal +5>><<setstrength +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

You dart forward, breaking through the magical barrier with the same tingling, scalding splash that you experienced when you stepped through the portal—as if you were walking through a solid sheet of water—and then you're on the other side, hacking away at the Nemek as best you can without harming the Mage pinned beneath it. Within seconds, it's all over, and Shery and Chandry pull Eyvi out of the way just before the Nemek topples on top of her, limp, steaming, and dead. "Thank you," Eyvi gabbles, collapsing into Shery's arms and clinging on to her with what looks to be bone-crushing strength. Shery grimaces, but valiantly strokes Eyvi's hair, making comforting sounds. "I was separated from my team and… there… there were too many of them, two of them chased me and I fell down a slope and hit my head on a rock, m-my arm…" She clutches her broken arm to her chest and looks up at you, her eyes huge and unfocused. She seems to be going into shock: you're not totally sure she even recognizes who you are. "Thank you so, so much…" What follows is a grim several minutes as you see to giving Eyvi medical attention until the proctors arrive. Perhaps drawn by the breach in the barrier, Magister Querida suddenly wisps into existence right in front of you—you're not sure how society functioned with Mages able to simply translocate around willy-nilly without any warning, but perhaps there's some protocol involved that you're not aware of—and takes in the scene with an impassive expression. She's accompanied by two other assistants, who immediately set about fashioning a magical stretcher to transport Eyvi back to Haven. Magister Querida turns to you with an arched brow. "I assume you have a good reason for being on this side of the barrier?" she asks. "She was about to be killed," you answer, nodding at Eyvi, who lies white-faced and silent on her stretcher. "She was injured, unable to stand, and the Nemek was approaching, about to devour her. Rather than watch her be torn apart, my team and I made the decision to cross over and save her life." "Is this true?" Querida asks Eyvi. For a moment, the injured Mage is quiet; she opens her mouth, clearly considering something, before her eyes fall on Shery and Chandry standing behind you. Shame-faced, she closes her mouth again and says in a small voice, "It's true." "Hmm." Magister Querida makes a curt, imperious gesture, and one of the Mages levitates the stretcher into the air and then translocates away with it, taking Eyvi with him. To your team, Magister Querida says, "As you know, anyone who crosses the ward into another team's territory should be instantly disqualified: it is one of the few rules we have in place for this trial. But I will have to consult with the other judges of the tournament. This is an unprecedented situation." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"We humbly await the committee\'s judgment."' 'wehumbly8wait'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> <<if $charisma gte 70>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I would think that Saenreth would value students who risk themselves to help others. Is the study of magic not ultimately a selfless act, geared towards the betterment of all?"</div>' 'would8thinkthat'>><<setcharisma +3>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">"I would think that Saenreth would value students who risk themselves to help others. Is the study of magic not ultimately a selfless act, geared towards the betterment of all?"</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link '"It\'s not as if we were actually cheating. In fact, we behaved more honorably than most. I don\'t think we should be punished for saving someone else\'s life."' 'itsnot8as'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Magister Querida nods curtly, seemingly appreciative of your professional answer. "Ultimately, the final decision may be up to Archmage Tangriel or his head apprentice, who speaks for him in most matters," she says. "If no one ejects you before the second trial starts, you'll have your answer." <<include "shortlythere8after">>

"I'd think we demonstrated that spirit with what we just did," you add. Magister Querida makes an irritated gesture. "Yes, yes, spare me the theatrics, Adept Ancelstierre. Your act was… commendable, but I will still need to confer with the others before your fate in this tournament is decided. If no one ejects you before the second trial starts, you'll have your answer." <<include "shortlythere8after">>

Magister Querida makes an irritated gesture. "Yes, yes, spare me the theatrics, Adept Ancelstierre. Your act was… commendable, but I will still need to confer with the others before your fate in this tournament is decided. If no one ejects you before the second trial starts, you'll have your answer." <<include "shortlythere8after">>

Shortly thereafter, she ushers you through another portal, telling you that other proctors are counting your collected Nemek bodies now and the results if the first trial will be announced shortly. Almost feeling too stunned by this turn of events to react much, you merely nod and stumble your way back into the large, wraparound viewing chamber located at the top of the arena in Haven. A few teams of tired-looking, tattered Adepts are already waiting there, including Lochran and Calixte's teams. Prince Cosmas, who has seemingly been lounging on the same couch and watching the Initiate events all morning, sits up and gives a cry of delight when the black-haired Mage assigned to escort him reappears and glides elegantly back to his side. You scatter for a bit, mainly to wash up and grab yourselves something to eat from the buffet table (the food still miraculously just as warm and fresh as it was a few hours ago). After a bracing goblet of hot cider, you turn to the others and say, "Well. That was… something." "I'm glad we helped her," Shery says adamantly, taking a gulp of her drink. "If I'd have watched her die, knowing we could have done something…" She pales and shakes her head. "I think I would have nightmares for the rest of my life." "Will you still feel that way if we spend the rest of our lives trapped here?" Riel asks quietly, examining the contents of his own chalice as if inspecting it for poison. "If we fail these trials—or are disqualified from them, which amounts to the same thing—the labyrinth will deem us unworthy of reentering the Tower. We may never go home." Silence at that. Shery looks hesitant, while Chandry looks uneasy and Mimir mildly intrigued. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"At least we\'ll be able to live with ourselves."' 'riel8nods'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Well, what\'s done is done. No dwelling over it now."' 'riel8nods'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I think they won\'t disqualify us. You\'d think they\'d have to take our motivations into consideration, after all, not <i>just</i> the fact that we broke the rules. Context matters."' 'riel8nods'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Riel nods slowly, and over the next hour or so, you focus on milling around the room as more teams teleport back, recovering your strength and nervously preparing yourselves for whatever the next trial is going to be. There isn't much else you can do. Finally, you hear a stirring of interest from the far side of the room and glance over—ignoring the sight of Prince Cosmas being fed a grape by his dark-haired companion—to see another magister dressed in the same black robes as Magister Querida standing with their sleeves tucked into each other in calm repose. "I am Magister Irnai, head of Sortilege and Mental Occlusion at Saenreth," they say, dark brown eyes crinkling with a cheerful, monk-like serenity. They're much younger than Magister Querida, only about ten years your senior, with a mostly-shaven head—save for a knot of chestnut curls gathered at the very top of their skull. "I am here to deliver the results of your first trial, and to deliver the instructions for your second." They gesture, and long sheet of parchment flames into existence in front of you, hovering so that it can be read by everyone in the gathered crowd of Adepts. You quickly scan it and find your names: Armalenthieh: $nemekslain Your heart jolts into your chest just as Magister Irnai continues: <<nobr>><<if $nemekslain gte 25>> <<set $firstplace += 1>> "As you can see, Armalenthieh not only placed as first, but broke a record for this trial by scoring the highest any team has ever scored!" <br><br> Your heart speeds up. Not only are you in first place, but you broke a record? All of that demon-slaying experience has paid off… <<elseif $nemekslain gte 20>> "As you can see, Armalenthieh won handily by placing in first, while Belisaere placed in second, and Pyrra in third…" <br><br> Your heart speeds up. You're in first place! <<elseif $nemekslain gte 18>> "As you can see, Belisaere won by a hair's breadth, while Armalenthieh placed in second and Pyrra in third…" <br><br> Your heart speeds up. You're in the top two! <<elseif $nemekslain gte 15>> "As you can see, Belisaere won in first place, with Pyrra placing in second and Armalenthieh placing in third…" <br><br> Your heart speeds up. You're in the top three! <<elseif $nemekslain gte 10>> "As you can see, Belisaere won in first place, with Pyrra placing in second and Cittalune placing in third…" <br><br> They continue down the list, pointing out that your team placed in fourth: essentially at the top of the middle of the pack. <<elseif $nemekslain gte 8>> "As you can see, Belisaere won in first place, with Pyrra placing in second and Cittalune placing in third…" <br><br> They continue down the list, pointing out that your team placed in fifth, clustered right around the other teams and tying for the middle of the pack. <<elseif $nemekslain is 5>> "As you can see, Belisaere won in first place, with Pyrra placing in second and Cittalune placing in third…" <br><br> They continue down the list, pointing out that your team placed in second-to-last, above the Namorn delegation. Your heart drops. <</if>><</nobr>> "And as you can see," Irnai continues glibly, "the Namorn delegation has placed in dead last. And as you can <i>also</i> see"—they spread their sleeved arms in an expansive gesture—"they are no longer with us. They experienced some troubles during their trial, and one of their teammates was injured. She'll live, but she refuses to participate in further trials, and apparently she's a vital enough member of their team that they have elected to drop out of the tournament." Some Mages smile at this, probably relishing the thought of less competition to deal with, while others shake their heads and make noises of sympathy or disappointment. You notice that the magister doesn't comment on exactly why Namorn's 'teammate' will live, and when you meet Riel's eye, he nods as if to say that he noticed this discrepancy as well. Magister Irnai continues, "Now, then. I trust that you've taken the opportunity to replenish yourselves and recuperate a little?" They nod happily. "Good. It's time for your next trial to begin." <i>I suppose that means they've decided to let us stay</i>, you think, feeling your heart loosen in relief as the magister waves their hand and conjures the hovering scroll away. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "secondtrialinstructions">><</link>></center>

"So," Irnai says. "Your next trial is not as bloody than the first, but no less complicated. Rather than a test of your strength, it was formulated to be a test of your wits. Someone among your number has been given a key. There is nothing particularly special about this key—it is, in truth, a plain old unmagicked key—but whoever manages to hold on to this key until the end of the trial will be declared the winner. Quite simple, wouldn't you say?" They hold up a quelling hand as others move to ask their questions. "There are a few more rules to this trial. As it is a test of your mental acuity and problem-solving, physical violence is strictly prohibited. That means no dueling, no brawling, no physical manhandling in order to take the key from each other. We want to see you put your magic to work, but in creative and subtle ways—so no lighting each other on fire, anything like that. This is a game of wits and clever ploys. Scrying, Enchantment, Illusions, tricking, lying, or outwitting each other are all permitted. Think of it as a chess match. How will you figure out who holds the true key? How will you prevent others from attaining it, if they sniff you out? Will you use decoys, glamours, bewitchments, confusions? How will you ferret out the true answer, or how will you hide in plain sight, all without drawing attention to yourself? And are your mental defenses enough to shield you from the probes of others?" They smile, clearly excited by the challenge ahead. "At the end of the trial, only one team will hold the true key. However, this does not mean that all other teams will be automatically disqualified. There are secondary ways to prove your mental strength and control—so, if you do not feel confident about your chances of obtaining the key, it might be advisable for you to pursue this second way as a back-up plan." They gesture to the area that was once the buffet table, which has been instantaneously replaced by a large, glittering fountain filled with sparkling red punch, surrounded by rows and rows of golden chalices. "So," Magister Irnai says happily, "as we all know, alcohol is a common test of a Mage's mental control and restraint. I think there are few among of us who haven't drank a bit too much vytas and turned an annoying neighbor into a frog, hmm?" An uneasy laugh goes up at that. Irnai's eyes glitter as they continue, "The more chalices you drink, the more points your team will accrue. You must, of course, retain control of your magic and keep your wits about you; it will all be in vain if we find you standing on your hands naked, conjuring fireworks overhead. And your drinks—or 'points'—will only count if <i>every</i> person on your team keeps apace with you, and matches you cup for cup. No designating a single person to have eight drinks while the rest keep themselves sober. That defeats the point!" Several hands go into the air by the time they're done making their speech. "Magister," Calixte says rapidly, darting a look at your group, "what about Armalenthieh? They have an unfair advantage—two-thirds of their team are Norm!" "Well, they've been vetted by the tournament committee, so I don't see a problem there," Magister Irnai responds affably. "They wouldn't be here if they weren't suited to do each and every one of these trials. <i>And</i> I would say they're at a massive disadvantage most of the time, wouldn't you agree? You all had five working Mages on your team for the first test, and they had less. So this should balance things out a bit." Calixte scowls and looks away, and others clamor forward to ask their questions. Irnai answers them all patiently—yes, most conceivable forms of magic outside of outright violence are allowed, though they were cagey on the subject of poison—before finally taking their leave, waving cheerily and translocating away. From the far side of the room, a full band of instrumentalists and bards enter while the Adepts eye each other warily, sizing each other team up and trying to surmise who might have already been given the key. Then the music kicks up in a bawdy, raucous tune, Lochran lunges forward to seize a chalice, and all hell breaks loose. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "trial2instructions2">><</link>></center>

You watch in stony silence as the Nemek lurches forward and proceeds to devour Eyvi alive. The screams are truly the stuff of nightmares, and so is the wild convulsing—but she quickly falls still and silent, thankfully before the Nemek tears open her innards. Chandry has to turn away and heave up his breakfast into a bush, while Shery simply stands there, sobbing in dry, heaving, rattling gasps, her hands cupped over her eyes as she whimpers in distress. Even Riel looks a little ill, though he watches grimly on with you and Mimir, who remains impassive, as the Nemek finishes its meal and then wanders indifferently away. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "eventually8youmanage">><</link>></center>

Eventually, you manage to get your group back to the portal site, though Shery is a nervous wreck and Chandry keeps staggering and clutching at tree trunks for support. Magister Querida wisps into existence right in front of you with a pair of aides, takes one look at your shell-shocked group, then say, cool-eyed, "Congratulations. Your first trial is now over." She glances around at the pile of Nemek bodies you'd gathered. "It seems you did well. Please step through the portal and return to the waiting area. We'll tally up the scores and announce the results shortly." And just like that, you're stumbling back through the portal and into the large, wraparound viewing chamber located at the top of the arena in Haven. A few teams of tired-looking, tattered Adepts are already waiting there, including Lochran and Calixte's teams. Prince Cosmas, who has seemingly been lounging on the same couch and watching the Initiate events all morning, sits up and gives a cry of delight when the black-haired Mage assigned to escort him reappears and glides elegantly back to his side. Then he does a double-take when he glances at your team and exclaims in his rich accent, "Narthax, Althea, and Tapyt, what happened to you? You all look like you've seen a devil!" <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "yourgroup8seems">><<if $nemekslain is 5>><<setshery -3>><</if>><</link>></center>

Your group seems utterly subdued as you all scatter for a bit, mainly to wash up and regain your composure. Riel disappears to talk to Shery after she flees to the washroom, and by the time they both come back, she seems almost back to normal, her head held high and a tight, determined expression on her face. Riel meets your eye and nods at you, as if to say, <i>It's been handled, nothing more to worry about,</i> and Shery seems to have come to grips with your decision—but her eyes dart at you a few times and then nervously away when you look over at her, and her hand still trembles when she reaches for a pastry from the buffet table. Chandry, showing a formidable mental resilience, shakes off the ordeal a bit quicker and is back to eating with gusto by the time an hour passes. When you ask Mimir what she thinks of the matter, she merely shrugs and says, "I don't think it mattered either way. She wasn't real to me." Which you're not sure is helpful or not. Over the next hour or so, you focus on milling around the room as more teams teleport back, recovering your strength and nervously preparing yourselves for whatever the next trial is going to be. Finally, you hear a stirring of interest from the far side of the room and glance over—ignoring the sight of Prince Cosmas being fed a grape by his dark-haired companion—to see another magister dressed in the same black robes as Magister Querida standing with their sleeves tucked together in calm repose. "I am Magister Irnai, head of Sortilege and Mental Occlusion at Saenreth," they say, dark brown eyes crinkling with a cheerful, monk-like serenity. They're much younger than Magister Querida, only about ten years your senior, with a mostly-shaven head—save for a knot of chestnut curls gathered at the very top of their skull. "I am here to deliver the results of your first trial, and to deliver the instructions for your second." They gesture, and long sheet of parchment flames into existence in front of you, hovering so that it can be read by everyone in the gathered crowd of Adepts. You quickly scan it and find your names Armalenthieh: $nemekslain Your heart jolts into your chest just as Magister Irnai continues: <<nobr>><<if $nemekslain gte 25>> <<set $firstplace += 1>> "As you can see, Armalenthieh not only placed as first, but broke a record for this trial by scoring the highest any team has ever scored!" <br><br> Your heart speeds up. Not only are you in first place, but you broke a record? Imagine if all that hard work had been lost because you decided to break the rules… <<elseif $nemekslain gte 20>> "As you can see, Armalenthieh won handily by placing in first, while Belisaere placed in second, and Pyrra in third…" <br><br> Your heart speeds up. You're in first place! Imagine if all that hard work had been lost because you decided to break the rules… <<elseif $nemekslain gte 18>> "As you can see, Belisaere won by a hair's breadth, while Armalenthieh placed in second and Pyrra in third…" <br><br> Your heart speeds up. You're in the top two! <<elseif $nemekslain gte 15>> "As you can see, Belisaere won in first place, with Pyrra placing in second and Armalenthieh placing in third…" <br><br> Your heart speeds up. You're in the top three! <<elseif $nemekslain gte 10>> "As you can see, Belisaere won in first place, with Pyrra placing in second and Cittalune placing in third…" <br><br> They continue down the list, pointing out that your team placed in fourth: essentially at the top of the middle of the pack. <<elseif $nemekslain gte 8>> "As you can see, Belisaere won in first place, with Pyrra placing in second and Cittalune placing in third…" <br><br> They continue down the list, pointing out that your team placed in fifth, clustered right around the other teams and tying for the middle of the pack. <<elseif $nemekslain is 5>> "As you can see, Belisaere won in first place, with Pyrra placing in second and Cittalune placing in third…" <br><br> They continue down the list, pointing out that your team placed in second-to-last, above the Namorn delegation. Your heart drops. <</if>><</nobr>> "And as you can see," Irnai continues glibly, "the Namorn delegation has placed in dead last. And as you can <i>also</i> see"—they spread their sleeved arms in an expansive gesture—"they are no longer with us. They experienced some troubles during their trial and one of their teammates was, tragically, killed. And of course, that means the rest of the team does not have the strength to carry on, and they have elected to drop out of the tournament." The other Adepts start and stir uneasily at this, murmuring exclamations of shock, sympathy, and pity. However, you hear someone hiss, "What, they couldn't even carry on and honor her sacrifice? Then she'll have died for nothing!" But you don't see who spoke, and other voices quickly shush them. Shery is beginning to look sick again. "Yes, it really is quite unfortunate. We've had contestants die during the trials before, so this is no surprise, but it is always a sad thing to see such a bright light extinguished so early." Magister Irnai shakes their head. "However. For the rest of us, we must carry on and persevere. And that means it's time for your next trial to begin." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "secondtrialinstructions2">><</link>></center>

"So," Irnai says. "Your next trial is not as bloody than the first, but no less complicated. Rather than a test of your strength, it was formulated to be a test of your wits. Someone among your number has been given a key. There is nothing particularly special about this key—it is, in truth, a plain old unmagicked key—but whoever manages to hold on to this key until the end of the trial will be declared the winner. Quite simple, wouldn't you say?" They hold up a quelling hand as others move to ask their questions. "There are a few more rules to this trial. As it is a test of your mental acuity and problem-solving, physical violence is strictly prohibited. That means no dueling, no brawling, no physical manhandling in order to take the key from each other. We want to see you put your magic to work, but in creative and subtle ways—so no lighting each other on fire, anything like that. This is a game of wits and clever ploys. Scrying, enchantment, illusions, tricking, lying, or outwitting each other are all permitted. Think of it as a chess match. How will you figure out who holds the true key? How will you prevent others from attaining it, if they sniff you out? Will you use decoys, glamours, bewitchments, confusions? How will you ferret out the true answer, or how will you hide in plain sight, all without drawing attention to yourself? And are your mental defenses enough to shield you from the probes of others?" They smile, clearly excited by the challenge ahead. "At the end of the trial, only one team will hold the true key. However, this does not mean that all other teams will be automatically disqualified. There are secondary ways to prove your mental strength and control—so, if you do not feel confident about your chances of obtaining the key, it might be advisable for you to pursue this second way as a back-up plan." They gesture to the area that was once the weather-working station, which has been instantaneously replaced by a large, glittering fountain filled with sparkling red punch, surrounded by rows and rows of golden chalices. "As we all know," Master Irnai says happily, "alcohol is a common test of a Mage's mental control and restraint. I think there are few among us who haven't drank a bit too much vytas and turned an annoying neighbor into a frog, hmm?" An uneasy laugh goes up at that. Irnai's eyes glitter as they continue, "The more chalices you drink, the more points your team will accrue. You must, of course, retain control of your magic and keep your wits about you; it will all be in vain if we find you standing on your hands naked, conjuring fireworks overhead. And your drinks—or 'points'—will only count if <i>every</i> person on your team keeps apace with you, and matches you cup for cup. No designating a single person to have eight drinks while the rest keep themselves sober. That defeats the point!" Several hands go into the air by the time they're done making their speech. "Magister," Calixte says rapidly, darting a look at your group, "what about Armalenthieh? They have an unfair advantage—two-thirds of their team are Norm!" "Well, they've been vetted by the tournament committee, so I don't see a problem there," Magister Irnai responds affably. "They wouldn't be here if they weren't suited to do each and every one of these trials. <i>And</i> I would say they're at a massive disadvantage most of the time, wouldn't you agree? You all had five working Mages on your team for the first test, and they had less. So this should balance things out a bit." Calixte scowls and looks away, and others clamor forward to ask their questions. Irnai answers them all patiently—yes, most conceivable forms of magic outside of outright violence are allowed, though they were cagey on the subject of poison, and no, there's not an unlimited supply of punch, so you can't pace yourselves and simply gauge how many points the other teams have before committing to a drink—before finally taking their leave, waving cheerily and translocating away. From the far side of the room, a full band of instrumentalists and bards enter while the Adepts eye each other warily, sizing every other team up and trying to surmise who might have already been given the key. Then the music kicks up in a bawdy, raucous tune, Lochran lunges forward to seize a chalice, and all hell breaks loose. <<page_break "Next" "trial2instructions2">>

<<nobr>> <<set $mctolerance to 0>> <<set $trial2points to 0>> <<set $drinks to 0>> <<set $drunk to false>> <<set $dranks to false>> <</nobr>>You turn to your team for their thoughts and reactions just as several other teams surge forward, downing drinks like they're dying of thirst. Riel, as usual, looks calculating, while Shery looks wide-eyed and Chandry looks downright delighted. "So," you say slowly, "how is everyone's alcohol tolerance?" "Um…" Shery flushes prettily. "Well, I'll have a glass of wine or cider with dinner every now and then… b-but I'm not sure what would happen if I drank more than that…" "I am extremely resilient when it comes to spirits!" Chandry interjects cheerfully. "Perhaps more so than most!" "I do not think I drink," Mimir intones softly, "but I do not think it matters either way. They are all ghosts. To partake of their spirits is no different than what we have already done." "I have quite a strong tolerance," Riel finishes. Which you're a bit dubious about: he's slim enough to seem like a lightweight, and you've never seen him indulge in any more than a half-glass of wine, but… "But I don't think it matters much what <i>our</i> tolerance is like. As Magister Irnai pointed out, we have quite an advantage in this test: no matter how inebriated the rest of us become, we're incapable of losing control of our magic and losing the trial in that way. It will be more about striking a balance: consuming enough so that we accrue points, but not so much that <<c firstname>> loses control, and while retaining our wits enough to get that key." "<i>Do</i> you think we'll be able to get the key?" Chandry asks, looking genuinely surprised. "I thought giving the idea up entirely and investing our efforts in 'imbibation' seemed a more prudent course of action!" Riel makes a decisive gesture. "Of course," he answers; if you didn't know any better, you'd think his eyes held a gleam of smug self-assurance in them—almost as if he's savoring the prospect of what's to come. "With my skills at reading people, Shery's ability to disarm them, your ability to distract them, Mimir's divination skills, and <<c firstname>>'s magical abilities, I can't see how we could lose." "But maybe just in case, we should have some drinks?" Shery suggests tentatively. "Of course, I don't doubt your assessment, Riel—but we <i>are</i> in a foreign time, and this kind of magic is strange to us. We don't know what tricks the others might have in store for us… so building up some points as a backup, as Magister Irnai said, might be safer." He nods. "I agree. Which brings us back to <<c firstname>>: how much do you think you can handle? We'll take our direction from you." And they all turn expectantly to you. You try to keep a straight face while acknowledging the absurdity of the situation. Although back home, the Autarchy technically forbids Mages from drinking or being served alcohol in public places (at least knowingly) at the risk of a warning or a fine, it's a fairly easy rule to flout, and it's common knowledge that many do so on a casual basis so long as they're discreet about it—even Shepherd officers. As for you… <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I don't drink at all." You have no tolerance, essentially.</div>' 'mctolerance_set'>><<set $mctolerance to 0>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I drink, but I have low tolerance." You're a lightweight, in other words.</div>' 'mctolerance_set'>><<set $mctolerance to 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I drink, but I have average tolerance." After two or three strong drinks, you can feel quite buzzed, but not completely drunk.</div>' 'mctolerance_set'>><<set $mctolerance to 2>><</link>> <<if $strength >= 50>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I drink, and I have high tolerance." You can have up to eight light drinks and remain reasonably composed.</div>' 'mctolerance_set'>><<set $mctolerance to 3>><</link>><</if>> <<if $strength >= 70>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I drink, and I have extremely high tolerance." You've never met someone you couldn't drink under a table.</div>' 'mctolerance_set'>><<set $mctolerance to 4>><</link>><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

Riel nods, glancing over at the punch fountain, which is starting to look concerningly depleted. "Then how many drinks do you think we should take?" "If we fall too far behind from everyone else, we'll end up in last place, especially in the off-chance we're not able to get the key," Shery adds anxiously. "So it has to be enough that we at least land in the middle of the pack—or not the bottom three, say—while not becoming so inebriated that we also fail the trial." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"We don't need any drinks. We can get the key stone-cold sober."</div>' 'autogenerated_686056'>><<setriel +1>><<setshery -1>><<setcourage +1>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Reach thoughtfully for a chalice. "Well..."</div>' 'autogenerated_686057'>><<setcunning +1>><<setcharisma +1>><<setshery +1>><<set $dranks to true>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Riel nods, seemingly approving of your show of confidence, though Shery and Chandry look a bit less certain. "Very well," he says gravely. "That leaves us no choice but to get the real key, so we must stop at nothing to win." With that decided, you turn away from the punch fountain and begin your survey of the room. <<include 'begintrial2'>>

How many chalices do you plan to grab? <<numberbox "$drinks" 1>> <<include 'drinkydrinky'>>

<<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "drinkydrinky2">> <<set $trial2points to $drinks>><<if (($mctolerance is 1) and ($drinks > 1))>> <<set $drunk to true>> <<elseif (($mctolerance is 2) and ($drinks > 3))>> <<set $drunk to true>> <<elseif (($mctolerance is 3) and ($drinks > 5))>> <<set $drunk to true>> <<elseif (($mctolerance is 4) and ($drinks > 7))>> <<set $drunk to true>> <<elseif ($mctolerance is 0)>> <<set $drunk to true>> <</if>><</link>>

The goblets are chilled and the punch is iced, so the drink goes down in a cool, sweet glide of citrus and cherry. The baffling thing is that you don't taste any alcohol at all, and briefly wonder if there's somehow been a mistake: mostly all you can make out is sugar and fruit as you down your decided number of drinks. There's certainly none of that caustic, shuddering burning you've come to associate with quaffing very strong liquor. If anything, it tastes <<nobr>><<if $cainejoin is true>> like one of Caine's lollipops, melted down and turned into an iced beverage. <<else>> like a common confection you'd find in one of the shops at the Market Quarter, a lollipop that has been melted down and turned into an iced beverage. <</if>><</nobr>> Shery's eyes widen in surprise and pleasure as she drinks her own punch in long sips, while Chandry says with a delighted cry, "Ah, but this is quite refreshing! This shan't be any trial at all!" Riel looks more skeptical—or rather, suspicious—as he sniffs cautiously at his chalice before taking a draught. "It doesn't seem strong in the least," he says musingly. "Which means the tolerance of this time is either much lower than we thought; the proctors are acting with an overabundance of precaution by deliberately watering down the punch; or…" He pauses significantly as you polish off your last sip. "Or?" Riel smiles bleakly and raises a toast to you. "Or," he says lightly, "we have just made a terrible mistake." And he tosses back the last of his drink, as well. <<nobr>><<if $drunk is true>> You hiccup cheerfully. "Well," you state, "<i>I</i> don't feel any diff'rent." The room is spinning a little, but it was probably always like that. "Lesh find that key!" <br><br> "Hooray!" Chandry shouts. Wobbling only just a little, you turn as a group and begin your survey of the room. <<else>> You smack your lips and look around the room. "Well, I don't feel any different," you state, "at least not yet. So let's assume we've struck a fine enough balance for now and start our search for that key." <br><br> The others nod and turn away from the punch fountain as you begin your survey of the room. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "begintrial2">>

<<page_break "Next" "begintrial2_content">>

<<nobr>><<set $talkedto to 0>> <<set $princec to false>><</nobr>>The first thing to do, Shery proposes, is to look for any teams that seem suspiciously quiet. If someone knew their team held the key, wouldn't they try to avoid drawing attention to themselves by sequestering themselves in a corner somewhere? "Perhaps," Riel agrees, "or perhaps they would be unusually talkative, trying to cover up their deception by overcompensating. <<nobr>><<if $drunk is true>> It's hard to—" He hiccups, then blinks. "Pardon me. It's hard to say." <<else>> It's hard to say." <</if>><</nobr>> You turn to Mimir, who has been even more silent and unobtrusive than she is normally. "Have you been able to divine anything, Mimir?" The Seer shakes her head, blinking slowly. <<nobr>><<if $dranks is true>> If the punch had any effect on her, you can't really see a difference. <</if>><</nobr>> "I can't see any of <i>their</i> futures," she replies evenly, nodding towards the other Mages, "and what I can see of ours is… scattered. Chaotic. I can't tell which of our ghosts find the real key—and on whom—and which ones only <i>think</i> they do. It's too muddled." You nod, having expected this. "All right. Maybe we should <<nobr>><<if $drunk is true>> shplit <<else>> split <</if>><</nobr>>up, then, and scout things out a little before making any big moves. Just make conversation, suss out people's moods. Shery can target the quiet teams, Riel the talkative ones, Chandry can gain the trust of the more… easily-entertained ones, and Mimir can keep an eye on things from afar, and see if she gleans anything else from watching." <<nobr>><<if $drunk is true>> You blink hard, hoping that the words came out as clear and pronounced as they sounded in your head. Your lips and tongue have started to take on a pleasant numbness, for some reason. <</if>><</nobr>> The team nods and breaks apart to do your bidding. You turn your eye to the few remaining parties that haven't been covered and sidle towards the ones of particular interest. <<include "talktoparty1">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("princecosmasandshikokami")>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Talk to Prince Cosmas and his Mage escort, who are talking intimately in the corner of the room.</div>' 'princecosmasandshikokami'>><<set $talkedto += 1>><<set $princec to true>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("pyrraandlochran")>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Talk to Calixte and Lochran, who seem to be flirting with each other outrageously.</div>' 'pyrraandlochran'>><<set $talkedto += 1>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("iphiara2")>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Talk to Iphiara, the tournament coordinator whom you met in the morning.</div>' 'iphiara2'>><<set $talkedto += 1>><</link>><</if>> <<if $talkedto >= 3>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Reconvene with your team to piece together what you've learned.</div>' 'thefindings'>><</link>><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

You wander over to the prince of the Koppyr Isles and his assigned escort, the beautiful female Mage who seemingly replaced you after you turned down Iphiara's request to accompany the prince yourself. She has a beautiful cascade of black hair that looks like a bolt of dark, shiny silk against the back of her robe, and a serene, composed mien that almost reminds you a little of a more mature Moonsilk. Prince Cosmas gifts you with a bright grin as you approach, though his Mage companion's features flatten a little, as if she's displeased by your interruption. The prince, oblivious to her expression, says courteously, "Good evening, Armalenthieh. How goes your search for the fabled key?" He's a slender, upright young man in his early or mid-twenties, his smile brilliant and dazzling against his dark curls and deep brown skin; he radiates a kind of innocent benevolence and goodwill as he adds jokingly, "If you think <i>I</i> have it, you'll have to look elsewhere—I'm not a participant in these games, only a fascinated onlooker." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You bow formally, hoping it's not an offensive gesture in this timeline. "Not at all, Your Highness. I was only hoping for the honor of exchanging conversation with you."</div>' 'autogenerated_686058'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You glance at his companion. "And what about her? <i>She's</i> still in the field of play, is she not?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686059'>><<setcunning +1>><<setriel +1>><<setcharisma -2>><<setcourage +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Eye him suspiciously. Surely this goody-goody attitude must be a front?</div>' 'autogenerated_686060'>><<setcompassionate -1>><<setcunning +1>><<setcharisma -5>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $drunk is false>> <<setcharisma +1>> <<else>> Sure, you stagger and nearly fall out of your bow—the ground comes rushing up to greet you before you right yourself hastily—but when you glance up, Prince Cosmas doesn't seem to have noticed your faux pas. His companion, however, is giving you a mildly mortified look, as if she saw it all and knows <i>exactly</i> how the blood is churning around in your head like a noisy whirlpool. <</if>><</nobr>> The prince laughs slightly, waving his hand with an air of humble dismissal, and says, "Please, let's dispense with the formalities: no need for any 'Your Highnesses' here. I am simply a fellow scholar, eager to learn more about the state of magic in the world." He smiles at you. "And I would be glad to talk, though I suspect someone as seasoned and experienced as you would have more interesting things to say than a small-time prince from the Koppyr Isles." "You are <i>very</i> interesting, Prince Cosmas," his companion chides softly. He beams at her and pats her pale hand with a friendly familiarity. "Thank you, Shikokami. Ah, have you met my attaché? She's from the delegation from Lethe, though she's graciously volunteered her time to keep me company when she can. Shikokami, meet—" He blinks at you. "—I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch your name?" <<include 'princec5'>>

<<nobr>><<if $rielromanceflag >= 5>> <<set $rielromanceflag += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> The prince looks around at his companion, as if caught off-guard by your question. "Who, Shikokami?" He bursts into a peal of well-meaning laughter. "Well, if she does indeed hold the key, I would be beyond impressed! I'm afraid I've been monopolizing her time so much that she's scarcely had a moment to meet with her own team! Am I keeping you from participating fairly in the trials, Shiko?" "Not at all, Prince Cosmas," she enters contentedly, snuggling up against his arm. "I'm having a marvelous evening spending my time with you." <<include 'princec5'>>

Prince Cosmas's smile falters for a moment, then returns to full brilliance as he breezes past the awkwardness of your silence and says, "Well, I'm Prince Cosmas Illiniat—as you might know—and this is my attaché, Shikokami, from the delegation from Lethe; though she's graciously volunteered her time to keep me company when she can. Shikokami, meet—" He blinks at you. "—I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch your name?" <<include 'princec5'>>

Introductions made, you take a seat with them in their secluded corner of the room and watch as the party continues to unfold around you for a moment. Prince Cosmas and Shikokami make some stilted attempts at conversation in the meantime—it's clear you've deflated the steamy atmosphere between <<nobr>><<if $drunk is true>> them—while you focus on making their images look a little less… smudgy. <<else>> them—while you mull over your next move. You're aware that Riel warned you not to say too much to Prince Cosmas, for fear of altering the past, but really, so long as you avoid giving anything about the future away, it shouldn't be that different from interacting with anyone else here. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "princec">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("princechaven") and $drunk is true>><<link '<div class="question-item">"So... what brings you all the way to Haven, Prince Cosmas?"</div>' 'princechaven'>><<setintelligence -1>><<setcharisma -1>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("princecmagus") and ($drunk is false)>><<link '<div class="question-item">"So... what brings you all the way to Magus, Prince Cosmas?"</div>' 'princecmagus'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("princecshikokami")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Where are you from, Shikokami?"</div>' 'princecshikokami'>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($drunk is true) and ($ace is false) and ($aroace is false)>><<link '<div class="question-item">"So, are you two...?" Make an obscene gesture with your fingers.</div>' 'shikokamiscandal'>><<setcharisma -5>><<setcourage +1>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You play a card game with them before taking your leave.</div>' 'autogenerated_686061'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

You spend a few more moments chatting with Prince Cosmas and Shikokami before excusing yourself and rejoining the warm, noisy clamor that has taken over the rest of the room. <<include 'talktoparty1'>>

Prince Cosmas's brow wrinkles. "Haven?" he repeats. "I'm sorry, I'm not sure…" You curse to yourself. <i>Fool</i>! Haven doesn't exist in this timeline—it's still referred to as Magus! "Erm, I meant Magus," you stammer clumsily while the other two give you strange looks. "I… was thinking of something else. Sorry." Prince Cosmas blinks, but seems to put aside your slip-up for now. <<include "princecmagus">>

Shikokami's eyes go round as marbles, and she looks comically outraged by your insinuation. However, Prince Cosmas laughs, as if delighted to finally be a part of ribald banter. "No, of course not!" he exclaims. "We only met just this morning—and I would never slight the honor of such a wonderful young lady." "But you could, if you wanted to," you press, feeling like the top of your skull is fizzing pleasantly. "You don't have—have a husband, or a wife… or a… brothel—betroth—spousey-thing… waiting for you back home?" "Well, no," Prince Cosmas answers with a smile. He seems to catch Shikokami's eye and looks away hastily, suddenly busying himself with examining the bottom of his cup. "I'm, ah, unattached, as you mainlanders like to say." Shikokami glares at you, though her high cheekbones now hold a telltale flush of color. After a few more moments of awkward silence, you clear your throat and announce loudly that you'll be taking your leave. Prince Cosmas and Shikokami try not to look visibly relieved to see you go. <<include "talktoparty1">>

"Well," he says cheerfully, "we practice our own kind of magic in the Koppyr Isles, but it was always my dream to leave the island and see how the great Mages of the Continent did it. I grew up hearing stories about these powerful institutions and universities—Saenreth, Armalenthieh, Stavastre, Chrestomance—all places of learning where true miracles were being accomplished. But I myself had only ever learned at the knee of private tutors and the odd academic who'd retired to the islands to bask in the sun. There was never any—any being in the thick of it, of being among peers, especially those with a particular… <i>vim and vigor</i> for modern-day fieldwork. My teachers were traditionalists and not particularly <i>in touch</i>. And I wanted to be, so I persuaded my mother to allow me to go on a tour of the Continent—all on the pretext of building diplomatic relations with potential foreign allies—before I ascend to the throne and find myself confined to the palace even more than I have been." You nod slowly. That seems straightforward enough. "Are you the only heir to the throne?" He sighs dramatically. "Alas, I am. Otherwise, I'd contemplate entering the tournament and petitioning to study at Saenreth myself! Even I've heard of Archmage Tangriel. The things he's doing…" He trails off wistfully, and Shikokami puts in, almost in a lofty tone, "Archmage Tangriel may still be the head of the school, but he's getting on in his years. Much of the innovation that Saenreth is exploring today—the magical experimentation that really pushes the envelope—is propelled by his head apprentice, Senua." "I'm sure that's true," Prince Cosmas returns affably, "but it's not Senua's name in the textbooks, is it?" Shikokami seems to have nothing to say to that. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"What kind of magic do they do in the Koppyr Isles?"</div>' 'princeckoppyrisles'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"What has been your favorite place to visit so far?"</div>' 'princecfavoriteplace'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"How long will your tour last?"</div>' 'princectourlength'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"It's a bit like your Wild Magic and Shifting," Prince Cosmas answers easily. "Mainly, we use it to talk to and tame animals—but there are many among us who are able to transform into them, too, or at least a two-legged, manlike version of them. Some outside of the Isles call us 'beast-men,' but among our people, the ones who can do this—called <i>lushagui</i> in our tongue—are revered as being closest to the gods. My mother's personal guard is made up of soldiers who can turn themselves into cheetah hybrids, for example. Of course, they can only maintain this form for as long as their concentration holds up." "Can you transform as well?" Shikokami asks, looking interested despite herself. He shakes his head ruefully. "Alas, I don't believe my Gift is strong enough. I can only talk to birds and monkeys, it seems." <<nobr>><<if $drunk is true>> <br><br> "Whoa," you say belatedly, trying to keep up with the thread of the converation. "Cheetah-men, that's… that's pretty wild." You laugh at this unintended (and yet hilarious) pun, but Prince Cosmas and Shikokami don't seem to share your sense of (amazing) humor. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "princec">>

"So far I haven't been able to stop anywhere for long," he answers easily. "I had to come straight here in order to make it in time for the Crystal Tournament. Ambryn was certainly a wonder, but so far I prefer Magus. But I'm most looking forward to traveling through the Blasted Heath next month." You and Shikokami both sit up at that. "The Blasted Heath?" she asks keenly. "You're going to see the Drakes?" Prince Cosmas's face lights up. "Well, I've found a tour guide who claims that he'll be able to get me some sightings, at least. I know they're quite reclusive, and they won't actually agree to talk with me, but I can at least glimpse them from afar." "You'd better be careful," Shikokami warns him. "They are famously territorial and proud, and they don't brook trespassers on their land. They'll take offense if you just show up to ogle them like animals in a menagerie, especially without permission. And they won't care you're a prince: they'll snatch you up and roast you like a <i>hakka</i> before you can even get two words out. Diplomatic immunity doesn't mean much to them." Perversely, Prince Cosmas beams at this information. "I'm honored by your concern," he answers confidently, laying an assuring hand on her forearm. "But I promise to be careful; I won't come within five miles of their border." This seems to appease Shikokami, but she still looks worried as the conversation moves on. <<nobr>><<if $drunk is true>> <br><br> "Wow," you say belatedly, your tongue feeling like it's heavy and too big for your mouth. "It must be so nice to live in a time where the Drakes are still around." <br><br> Prince Cosmas and Shikokami both turn to look at you as if you've sprouted two heads, but if they have any further thoughts on your strange comment, they don't voice them. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "princec">>

"A little over a year," Prince Cosmas answers easily. "I plan to see everything I can between them, from the Frozen North to the Jalis desert… and everything in between." <<nobr>><<if $drunk is true>> <br><br> "<i>Everything</i>?" You shake your head blearily. "Seems impossible. Can't be done." <br><br> The prince laughs uncertainly. "Well, not in a literal sense," he amends. "But as much as I can, anyway." <</if>><</nobr>> "You should visit Stroud," Shikokami tells him softly. "You would be welcome at the University of Lethe." He beams at her. "I would like that," he says in a warm, quiet tone. <<nobr>><<if $drunk is true>> <br><br> Yeesh. If you were any more of a third wheel in this situation, you'd be a… you'd be… well, something with three wheels, anyway. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "princec">>

She gives you a cool look of appraisal, as if wondering if you have an ulterior motive to your questions. "Stroud," she finally answers stiffly. "That's where Lethe is, after all. But my family is from Luxue." <<nobr>><<if $heritage is "Ket">> <br><br> Luxue is a Ket city-state located in the Frozen North, across the Torunn Mountains. In your time, it's considered a hotbed of criminals and Ket exiles, but perhaps in this moment, it hasn't gained that reputation yet. "Are you Ket-blooded, then?" you ask despite yourself. <br><br> Shikokami stiffens further, her dark eyes narrowing. "Why do you ask?" <br><br> <<if $drunk is true>> You draw the robe of your sleeve up and show her the tattoo on your wrist, wondering if Drummond's Point even exists yet. "Because I am. In a way." <br><br> Shikokami gazes at your mark—which reads 'child of the stars' in Kettish—for a long moment before glancing away again. She doesn't say anything more on the matter, but her shoulders relax minutely. Belatedly you wonder if you've made a misstep in showing someone from the past a physical marker of a place that doesn't exist yet. <<else>> "Because I am," you answer in Kettish, wondering if Drummond's Point even exists yet. "In a way." <br><br> Shikokami's eyes widen by a fraction as Prince Cosmas looks between the two of you with curious interest. She looks away after a moment without acknowledging your statement, but her shoulders seem to relax minutely. <</if>> <br><br> "I didn't know the Ancelstierres had Ket blood," Prince Cosmas interjects, sounding fascinated. "I'd always heard you were pure Mages, descended from the first founders of Calta." <br><br> You blink, laughing a little awkwardly—for a brief moment, you'd forgotten that you're supposed to be Robyn Ancelstierre. "We are of pure Mage blood," you lie. "I just spent a lot of the time among the Ket when I was younger." <br><br> He nods, easily accepting this excuse. <<else>> <br><br> <</if>><</nobr>> "Tell $them what you're studying at Lethe," the prince prompts, turning now to Shikokami. "What did you call it?" Shikokami's eyes drift warily to yours before she says slowly, "It's nothing terribly special. Just glamours and enchantments." "No, you had a far more exciting name for it," Prince Cosmas presses. "It's on the tip of my tongue, what was it?…" However, no matter how hard he tries, he can't seem to remember what exactly Shikokami studies. After a few stubborn moments of silence, you brush the subject off and sip awkwardly at your drinks. <<include "princec">>

Iphiara has slipped into the chamber and is quietly observing events from her place next to the bards and musicians, who continue strumming madly away on their tsirais and fiddle-like valkes. She seems to be attempting to remain discreet, but that doesn't stop you from sidling up to her and lifting a glass in greeting. She nods to you curtly, then does a double-take and says, "Adept Ancelstierre. <<nobr>><<if $saveeyvi is true>> I actually had a message for you from the proctors. They send their private commendation for your actions during the first trial—if not for you, Eyvi Isibis would certainly be dead—but they also note that any further breaking of the rules will result in your expulsion from the tournament. They also request your discretion regarding what's happened: if the other students discovered that an exception was made for you, they might start testing the limits of the rules themselves, and then it would just be another headache for the committee to deal with." <br><br> <<if $drunk is true>> You nod, trying to muster up the strength to sound normal. <<else>> You nod. <</if>> "Understood. Thanks, Iphiara." <br><br> She makes a noncommittal noise, then adds thoughtfully, "Well, I didn't have anything to do with it: it was Magister Querida who fought for you to stay. Seems like she's taken something of a liking to you." <<elseif $nemekslain >= 10>> Well done on your first trial. Scores like yours don't come easily, especially without a full team of Mages to help you out." <<else>> Surprised you're still relatively sober. Your scores in the first trial weren't terribly promising, were they?" <</if>><</nobr>> She glances around at the party and continues, "I can't stay long. I just came up here to…" Her head swings around, and you watch as her blue eyes fairly pop out of her head as she catches the sight of Prince Cosmas and <<nobr>><<if $princec is true>> Shikokami <<else>> his companion <</if>><</nobr>> cozied up on their couch together. "<i>What in the nine hells is she doing</i>?" she hisses, staring balefully at the dark-haired Mage. "I told Shikokami to accompany the prince, not—not <i>seduce</i> him!" You glance over to see Shikokami hiding a smile behind her sleeve as she delicately feeds Prince Cosmas a strawberry. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I don't think there's any seducing going on. It seems like they genuinely like each other."</div>' 'autogenerated_686062'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Yeah, you didn't really think that one through..."</div>' 'autogenerated_686063'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"What's the problem? They're both consenting adults."</div>' 'autogenerated_686064'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"That's even worse," Iphiara hisses. "Do you understand the political fallout that could happen if it comes out that Saenreth was supplying a foreign prince with a commoner student that he ended up <i>involved</i> with? His mother might declare war on Magus!" <<include 'iphiara2_continued'>>

"She said she spoke Koppyri," Iphiara hisses. "Not that it ended up mattering, since he speaks Common perfectly fine—I should have given him someone craggy and old, not the girl who looks like she stepped straight out of a courtesan's novel!" <<include 'iphiara2_continued'>>

"What are you talking about?" Iphiara hisses. "Do you understand the political fallout that could happen if it comes out Saenreth was supplying a foreign prince with a commoner student he ended up <i>involved</i> with? His mother might declare war on Magus!" <<include 'iphiara2_continued'>>

She descends into a bout of fretful muttering to herself as she continues to glare at the happy, oblivious couple. A few moments draw past, and you begin to suspect that she's completely forgotten about your existence. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"So, do you have any tips for this trial?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686065'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Did Archmage Tangriel say anything about my team and how we're performing so far?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686066'>><</link>> <<if $dranks>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"What was in that punch, anyway? I didn't taste a thing."</div>' 'autogenerated_686067'>><</link>><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

"What?" Iphiara says irritably, still looking distracted. "No—and even if I did, it would be against the rules to share them with you. I'm studying at Saenreth, too, so it's in my best interests to ensure the incoming class is comprised of the best: not the ones who had extra help." <<include 'iphiara2_final'>>

"What?" Iphiara says irritably, still looking distracted. "No, he isn't even here, he was called away on some urgent business to Giglia. This whole tournament has become an event for the public's benefit: he doesn't care about any of it until the victors have been decided." <<include 'iphiara2_final'>>

Iphiara glances at you sidelong. "How much of it did you drink?" You tell her, and the white-haired Mage's answering smirk sends a chill running up your spine. "Oh, dear," she says, looking like she's trying not to laugh. "And all at once, too? Well. Since it's too late to do anything about it now, all I can say is that it's specially formulated to delay its effects over a lengthy period of time rather than immediately upon consumption. And it's a compounding, accumulative effect, so… by the time it all kicks in, it's going to feel like twenty bricks were dropped on you at once." <<nobr>><<if $drunk is true>> You whistle. "<i>Shiiiiiiiiit</i>." And you're already feeling a little… brick-y. <br><br> Iphiara nods sagely. "Exactly." <<else>> You shrug; you still feel relatively normal. "I think I'll be fine." <br><br> Iphiara shrugs too. "Maybe so. If so, you're better than most of the idiots here; even one drink is enough to eventually knock a grown man blind-drunk by the end of the night." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'iphiara2_final'>>

Then she checks her timepiece and says, "I should get going. I need to… take care of some things." She casts another dark glance at Prince Cosmas's alcove, gives you a brief nod, and then vanishes back into the crowd. You turn thoughtfully back to the party, which is beginning to reach a fever-pitch of shouts, laughter, and the sounds of broken glass and shattered plateware. <<include "talktoparty1">>

You wander over to a group of six or seven Mages gathered from a few different teams; they've draped themselves over various couches and loveseats in one corner of the room and seem to be giggling uncontrollably. To your surprise, Calixte—the fierce, golden-eyed Mage from Pyrra—and Lochran, the young man with the short pointed beard from Belisaere, are playing some sort of altered version of the tile game, Elements. <<nobr>><<if $tallysequalist is true>> It conjures fond memories of playing with Tallys in that tavern in Ashtown, shortly before your night was interrupted by the Inquisitors. <</if>><</nobr>> From the way the two of them are acting, it seems whoever loses each round has to answer a question truthfully. "Armalenthieh!" Lochran shouts boisterously; from the flush on his face, he already seems deep into the cups. "Come, sit and talk with us! But if you're hoping to play, you're out of luck, because—" He pauses, blinks with unfocused eyes, and then finishes, "—because there's a <i>line</i> in front of you! A really big one! And so you… you can't play!" He laughs hysterically, then frowns when Calixte flicks over another tile and seems to win the round. You sink down onto a nearby couch between two onlookers, <<nobr>><<if $drunk is true>> your vision swimming as you squint at the tiles, trying to make sense of the squiggly shapes written on them. <<else>> feeling very coolly sober in comparison to all of the laughing, tottering Mages around you. Thankfully, no one so far seems to have lost control of their magic yet, so even if they're acting quite tipsy, things have not approached a point of no return. You'd guess that this was much more common problem before the Castigation, so they're all probably much more accustomed to keeping a tight clamp on their powers than the Mages of your time. <</if>><</nobr>> "Why are you playing this game?" you ask, pitching your voice louder to be heard over the din and racket of the festivities around you. Nearby, two friends spin and twirl in a clumsy waltz together before tumbling into a heap on top of a coffee table, howling. "I'm surprised you're not focusing your efforts on finding the key." "Oh, we've given up on that entirely," Calixte answers in a offhand voice, though most of her attention is on the small painted tiles in front of her. "None of us wants to poke around in other people's heads because it means they could poke around in <i>ours</i>. So we're recusing ourselves from the trial, of a sort, and our teams reached a truce, and we agreed to simply tie by having the same number of drinks as each other. So long as we don't lose control of our magic, that means it'll mostly likely be us and whoever does manage to get the key that goes through. And now we can just relax." "What if someone drinks more than your teams?" you ask. Calixte smirks, and you notice for the first time how much trouble she seems to be having keeping her head upright. Her hair is completely askew and as wild as a cluster of brambles. "They'd have to drink a <i>lot</i>," she says, slurring the words as thickly as if she were talking around a mouthful of syrup. "<i>A looooot</i>." Well, then. You try to question them further, but they're both too intoxicated and too focused on their game to supply you with much more useful information than that. The only tidbit of value that you pick up is when Lochran, winning his round of Elements, says triumphantly, "Okay. Okay, s'my turn to ask you a question. <i>Finally</i>. Erm…" He pauses, blinking in a befuddled manner, then brightens. "Oh, I know! Have you ever slept with an instructor?" Calixte snorts, full of real scorn. "No. I'm no Senua!" A bawdy, half-incredulous cheer goes up at that; people around you gawk and cover their mouths, looking delightedly scandalized. "Senua?" you repeat. A Mage from Lochran's team, who seems a bit more coherent than his peers, leans in to fill you in. "Senua's the head apprentice to Archmage Tangriel. There's no doubt she's brilliant, but recently there have been rumors that she and the old man are… hiding an affair. So now everyone's wondering if she really got into Saenreth based on merit, or if…" He trails off, having the wherewithal to look abashed. "Well, you get the picture." "I think it's hogwash," one of his teammates puts in, a busty young woman with her red hair cut in a short bob similar to Eyvi's. "I've met Senua, and she's—well, she's not like that. And it's not like she's some great beauty that a man like Tangriel would lust after at first sight. She's <i>plain</i>. There's no way he admitted her to study under him solely on that basis." "Maybe not, but do we doubt that there's some favoritism going on <i>now</i>?" another listener objects. "I mean, to be given the amount of freedom and leeway she's been gaven… gave… Not even the head apprentices at Oxibi are given her kind of lateral authority. They say she's taken over most of his duties at the school!" "How big <i>is</i> the age gap, anyway?" someone else asks, clearly more interested in the salacious details than the academic. "I didn't think Archmage Tangriel was that old." "She's in her thirties, he in his sixties, nearing seventies. By <i>our</i> terms, he's still in the prime of life," the red-haired woman answers with obvious relish. "But if he were a Hunter or a Norm, he'd probably be <i>dead</i>, and isn't <i>that</i> a strange thought?…" From there, the conversation dissolves into various speculations and pieces of gossip about people you've never heard of. <i>How strange</i>, you think as you rise and <<nobr>><<if $drunk is true>> stagger <<else>> move <</if>><</nobr>> away from the two teams and their tile game. You don't think you've ever heard Shery mention a lover of Tangriel's. And if it was never recorded in your time, wouldn't that mean that it's not true?… <<include "talktoparty1">>

You don't have to go very far before Riel appears at your elbow, drawing you aside. Shery is engrossed in an animated conversation with a young lady by the buffet table, while Chandry seems to be juggling (badly) for a group of genuinely entertained Mages: one of them bawls, "NOW THAT'S REAL MAGIC! HOW DOES HE DO IT?" when Chandry pulls yet another ball out of his pocket and tosses it into the air. Mimir seems to have disappeared entirely. "I believe I have located our two most likely suspects," Riel says softly. <<nobr>><<if $drunk is true>> You peer around at him blearily. <<else>> You blink at him incredulously. <</if>><</nobr>> "What, already?" He smirks briefly. "It wasn't terribly difficult. No matter how hard they try to hide it, they can't completely conceal their own body language: you don't really need magic to read their thoughts." He gestures subtly to two corners of the room. "I believe either the team from Pyrra or the team from Lethe holds the key." He indicates Shikokami, who is sipping gracefully at her chalice with two dainty hands while Prince Cosmas talks animatedly in her ear. "She has minute cues to her body language that hint at deception. Even setting that aside, using her would be a worthwhile strategy: if it were me, I would pass the key off to her and allow her to go unnoticed by most people, secluded as she is from the party and wrapped up with the Koppyri prince—and all under the guise of official business, too. It would make many people loath to interrupt them and risk upsetting the prince, and there are so many other things going on that many will scarcely even notice her." "But has she even had time to slip away and meet up with her team?" you ask, trying to find the rest of the delegation from Lethe in the crowd. They seem to be scattered around the room, laughing and talking as obliviously as everyone else. "You'd think someone would have noticed her making the hand-off; she's been glued to Prince Cosmas's side all night, so being away from him for even a few moments should have attracted <i>someone's</i> attention." Riel shakes his head. "It's possible she's communicating with her teammates telepathically; one of them could have secretly conjured the key into her pocket from afar. Or who knows what methods they could be employing?" He directs your attention to his other suspect: Calixte, the golden-eyed woman from the Pyrran delegation. "Now, she's an interesting case. I do believe she's engaging in some deception, and that she's not nearly as inebriated as she might seem at first glance. From her facial cues, it seems like she's up to something; whether she's protecting the real key, however, or a counterfeit, that's where I'm unsure." He shakes his head at that. "That's the problem with my method, I admit. Body language can only get us so far: if <i>they</i> believe they hold the true key, that's all I'm able to tell—not if they <i>actually</i> possess it. From my calculations, the key has already been switched between teams at least twice. As far as I can track, others in the room have already been bewitched, pickpocketed, and otherwise tricked by having false and decoy keys planted on them and the real one swapped out and stolen. These two—Calixte and Shikokami—may have had the same done to them: they may have once possessed the true key, or believed they did, but they might not any longer. We won't know until we can get it off of them and examine it for ourselves." "But how could Calixte be less drunk than her teammates?" you ask. "She had to take the same amount of drinks as the rest of them in order for their points to count—and <i>they're</i> not faking, are they?" Riel shakes his head. "No, I don't believe so, but how she's managing to avoid their… condition, I can't yet say. My guess is some kind of magic, in which case you would know better than I." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if ($drunk is true) and ($rielromanceflag >= 15)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"God, I love it when you're all smart. It's so... sexy."</div>' 'autogenerated_686068'>><<setriel +1>><<set $rielromanceflag += 1>><</link>><</if>> <<if $dranks is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"And speaking of, how are <i>you</i> holding it together so well?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686069'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Good work narrowing it down. Now we just have to steal the key off of them without anyone noticing."</div>' 'autogenerated_686070'>><<setriel +1>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

For the briefest moment, Riel's head snaps around so he can stare at you, more taken aback than you've ever had the pleasure of seeing him. His lips twitch into a downright devious smile, but his tone is light and good-humored as he replies smoothly, "Then I am lucky that intelligence is one of my predominant charms." <<nobr>><<if $rielromanceflag >= 17>> He hesitates, then adds, "And it has also been… ahem… quite interesting… watching you at work in the field. A… fascinating sight, one might say. Very… inspiring." He trails off, looking uncharacteristically awkward, before straightening his sleeves abruptly and saying in brisker tones, "Well, then—shall we?" <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'thefindings_continued'>>

"Sheer force of will," Riel deadpans, entirely straight-faced. "Every time I feel my thoughts drifting, I force myself to recite mathematical formulae until I can focus again. But I suspect I won't be able to keep up the performance for the entire night. My sense of balance is off, and, in fact, my processing and conversational speed has dropped significantly since the start of the evening." He shakes his head, even though you have no idea what he's talking about: he seems perfectly composed, and his suit is still pin-neat. "Whatever was in those drinks, it was designed to be both insidious and powerful. No doubt to encourage us to drink more than we would normally, I think." <<include 'thefindings_continued'>>

Riel nods. "Let's start with one person and formulate our strategy from there." <<include 'thefindings_continued'>>

Shery drifts up then, tottering on her feet and listing from side to side significantly. For some reason, her glasses are now resting on her forehead, which comes as quite a shock to you: you're not sure if you've ever seen her with them off. She's also tied her long hair back in a ponytail, so you almost mistake her as a different person as she asks blurrily what's going on. Riel is staring at her with a note of concern as you bring her up to speed. <<nobr>><<if $dranks is true>> "Why are your glasses off?" he asks once you're finished. The way he says it makes it sound like she stripped naked in the middle of the room. <br><br> Shery gifts him with a challenging stare back. "Everything was already blurry," she mutters. "So I thought that if I took them off… it wouldn't make a difference, anyway." <<if $sheryromanceflag >= 15>> Then she turns to you and tosses her ponytail over her shoulder, wobbling as she strikes a dramatic pose. "How do I look?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $drunk is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"<i>Really</i> pretty. But then, you <i>always</i> look pretty."</div>' 'autogenerated_686071'>><<setshery +5>><<set $sheryromanceflag += 3>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You look nice. Different, but nice."</div>' 'autogenerated_686072'>><<set $sheryromanceflag += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Can you even see without your glasses?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686073'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Uh, are you okay? You're... wobbling."</div>' 'autogenerated_686074'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <<else>> <br><br> Riel raises a brow at you, but before he can retort, Chandry comes mincing up. "Hallo, friends!" he says in a too-loud tone. "I am ready for the key-finding mission now!" <br><br> <<include "thefindings_team_ready">> <</if>> <<else>> "What happened to you?" he asks, sounding almost appalled. <br><br> "That nice lady offered me a drink," she answers, jerking her thumb over her shoulder at no one in particular. "And I thought—well—I was curious what it tasted like, so I had a sip! That's all, just a little sip. Since no one else was planning to drink, I figured it didn't matter. Not like it takes away points." She smacks her lips and adds boastfully, "It was delicious!" <br><br> "AND I FINISHED THE REST OF IT," Chandry adds in a very loud tone, prancing up and slinging an arm around her shoulders. "VERY TASTY STUFF." <br><br> They got this drunk from <i>one</i> half-glass each? What kind of stuff are they even serving in that fountain? <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Why on <i>earth</i> would you do that? The whole point of this was to not drink!"</div>' 'autogenerated_686075'>><<setshery -3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You don't think that drink could have been tampered with, do you?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686076'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Well... as long as you're having fun."</div>' 'autogenerated_686077'>><<setshery +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $sheryromanceflag >= 1>> <<set $sheryromanceflag -= 1>> <</if>> <<if $saveeyvi is false>> <<setshery -5>> <<set $sheryromanceflag -= 5>> <</if>><</nobr>> Shery draws herself up defensively while Chandry deflates sadly. <<nobr>><<if $saveeyvi is false>> "I've had a bad day," she says in an uncharacteristically hard tone, her blue eyes drilling into yours. "I think I deserve half of a drink." <<else>> "I didn't want to be rude," she sniffs. "And I thought a sip couldn't hurt." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'thefindings_no_drinks'>>

Shery's eyes widen, and she shakes her head slowly. "What? No, I…" "I don't see why anyone would bother," Riel interjects calmly. "If anyone was going to sabotage our team, they'd target <i>you</i>, not two of our non-Mages. My guess is that the drink is merely potently strong, Shery's tolerance is quite low, or… both." Chandry holds back a burp politely, then slurs, "I think a safe bet is both." Then he and Shery dissolve into a fit of helpless giggles. <<include 'thefindings_no_drinks'>>

<<nobr>><<if $sheryromanceflag >= 1>> <<set $sheryromanceflag += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> "Oh, <<c firstname>>, you're the best," Shery mumbles, reaching out to pat your cheek and missing it by a good five inches. She playfully tugs on your ear instead and continues in a sing-song voice: "The absolute best! Soooo wonderful. <<nobr>><<if ($gender is "female") and ($sheryromanceflag >= 5)>> And <i>sooooo</i> beautiful." <<else>> If anyone ever hurts you, I'll kill them." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'thefindings_no_drinks'>>

Shery gives an uncharacteristic giggle, blushing happily as she presses her palms against her cheeks. Riel raises a brow at you, but before he can retort, Chandry comes mincing up. "Hallo, friends!" he says in a too-loud tone. "I am ready for the key-finding mission now!" <<include 'thefindings_team_ready'>>

She beams. "I don't even need these stupid things," she announces, removing her glasses and twirling them clumsily around on her finger. She promptly drops them and curses, fumbling around on the ground. "Oops." Riel raises a brow at you, but before he can retort, Chandry comes mincing up. "Hallo, friends!" he says in a too-loud tone. "I am ready for the key-finding mission now!" <<include 'thefindings_team_ready'>>

<<nobr>><<if $sheryromanceflag > 0>> <<set $sheryromanceflag -= 3>> <</if>><</nobr>> "Nope," she answers proudly. Riel raises a brow at you, but before he can retort, Chandry comes mincing up. "Hallo, friends!" he says in a too-loud tone. "I am ready for the key-finding mission now!" <<include 'thefindings_team_ready'>>

<<nobr>><<if $sheryromanceflag > 0>> <<set $sheryromanceflag -= 5>> <</if>><</nobr>> "Am I?" she drawls. "Or is <i>everyone else </i> wobbling?" "…No, it's just you." "I don't think so." Riel raises a brow at you, but before he can retort, Chandry comes mincing up. "Hallo, friends!" he says in a too-loud tone. "I am ready for the key-finding mission now!" <<include 'thefindings_team_ready'>>

"If they're like this after one drink, you have to wonder how everyone else here is still standing—or even alive," you remark ruefully, mostly to Riel. "They're probably more used to it," Chandry proposes. "They probably drink it all the time. As they should: did I mention how very tasty it was?" He pitches his voice louder just as the fiddler in the corner erupts into a rushed frenzy of a solo. "NOW. I'M READY TO FIND THAT KEY!" <<include "thefindings_team_ready">>

You hastily shush him and ask if he knows where Mimir is. "OH, YES, SHE'S HIDING SOMEWHERE UNDER A TABLE!" He points vaguely in the direction of the long, white-clothed appetizer tables. Somehow his voice has gotten even louder. "I BELIEVE ALL OF THE HULLABALOO WAS GIVING HER A HEADACHE. BUT NOT TO WORRY: SHE WENT RIGHT TO SLEEP AND IS NICE AND COZY UNDER THE TABLECLOTH THERE. I WAS CHECKING ON HER AND ALMOST WANTED TO TAKE A NAP MYSELF. RATHER LIKE A NICE TENT!" "Let's pick a person and move towards them," Riel hisses, looking furtively around at the other partygoers; luckily, no one has seemed to notice your group in all of the warm and jostling commotion. "Before we draw even more attention to ourselves. Shery and Chandry can hang back until we need them." <<nobr>><<if $drunk is true>> You nod, trying to anchor your thoughts. <<else>> You nod. So. <</if>><</nobr>> Who do you think is likelier to hold the true key? <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Calixte, of the Pyrra delegation.</div>' 'calixte'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Shikokami, of the Lethe delegation.</div>' 'shikokami'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $drunk is true>> The room begins to spin even faster as you make your way back over to Calixte, who is now mercifully alone for the moment as she lingers near a window overlooking the now-empty arena. (And when did it get dark out, anyway?) <<else>> You have to dodge past several flailing, twirling bodies as you make your way back over to Calixte, who is now mercifully alone for the moment as she lingers near a window overlooking the now-empty arena. <</if>><</nobr>> She looks up at you and raises her glass in a genial enough toast as you approach; but you think you might catch the spark of something warier in her eyes as her gaze drifts from you to Riel. "Armalenthieh," she says cordially. "What can I do for you?" <<include "calixteinterrogate">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Ask her outright. "Do you have the key?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686078'>><<setcourage +1>><<setcharisma -1>><</link>> <<if not hasVisited("calixte_read_mind")>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Try and read her mind to see if she has the key.</div>' 'calixte_read_mind'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("calixte_scry_person")>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Try and scry her person to see if she has the key.</div>' 'calixte_scry_person'>><</link>><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

Calixte smirks, raising her chalice to her lips and looking utterly unruffled by your question. "What, that's your strategy? To just ask me?" You shrug. "I'm a 'straight-to-the-point' kind of <<nobr>><<if $gender is "female">> gal." <<elseif $gender is "male">> guy." <<else>> person." <</if>><</nobr>> She snorts, <<nobr>> <<if ($cunning >= 50) and ($charisma >= 70)>> but you think you catch a flicker of discomfort in her eyes as she glances away from you briefly. Her tone, however, remains even as she says, "No, I don't have it, but I don't expect you to believe me, either." <<else>> her mouth twitching into a derisive smile as she replies, "No, I don't have it, though I suppose it's pointless to answer: you wouldn't believe me either way." <</if>> <</nobr>> <<include 'calixte_follow_up'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $drunk is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Uhhhhhh... yeah, I guess that's a good point..."</div>' 'autogenerated_686079'>><<setriel -1>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Oh, don't worry, I'm asking everyone in the room the same question. So far I've learned nothing." <b>[JOKE]</b></div>' 'autogenerated_686080'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I figured it was worth a try. So tell me about Pyrra. What is it like there?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686081'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

It feels hot in here. Is it really hot in here? That's all you can really focus on as you try to fumble your way to a new strategy. Unfortunately, none seems to be forthcoming at the moment. Maybe you should check back later. <<include 'calixte_regroup5'>>

Despite herself, Calixte laughs. "Right. Well, good luck with that." <<include 'calixte_regroup5'>>

Calixte rolls her eyes at your obvious attempt to change the subject, but at least she answers you readily enough. <<include 'calixte_regroup5'>>

After a few more stilted attempts at talking, you meander away with Riel, who leans closer to you and mutters out of the side of his mouth: "She has the key. In her right lower pocket. I'm almost certain." "How could you tell?" you ask him. He shakes his head, as if to deter you from looking over at her. "When you asked her if she had it, her right shoulder dropped, just slightly. An indication of either defensiveness or guilt. And she made an effort to conceal it, but her weight also shifted just a little to the right, as if to protect that side. Why else would she do that, unless she had the key—or what she believes is the key—on her person?" <<include "calixte_regroup">>

<<nobr>><<if (($specialization is "enchanter") and ($psionic >= 60)) or (($psionic >= 70) and ($magic >= 70))>> <<setpsionic +5>> <<setmagic +3>> <<setriel +1>> Riel steps in to distract Calixte with conversation about the tournament while you try to slip past her mental defenses. Understandably, they're far more ironclad than most of the Mages of your time—magic-users of this time were far more accustomed to guarding themselves from psionic intrusion, it seems—but the walls she's erected around her mind still fall away under your touch as easily as tissue paper: her power is no match for yours. Doing this without her noticing, however, proves far more difficult; even if a Mage doesn't have the strength to stop someone from prying into their thoughts, they'll still almost always know that the person is doing it. <br><br> But you still manage to slip through the barrier without attracting her attention, feeling a little like a thief easing through the back door of some sleeping noble's mansion. <br><br> Immediately you find what you're looking for: the key is at the forefront of Calixte's mind, dominating her every thought, so it's about as difficult to locate as a museum artifact under a spotlight. You feel a spark of excitement as you realize she does have the key, squirreled away in her right robe pocket! It's a large, heavy iron thing, plain and assuming, about the length of a hand from index finger to wrist. She can feel the reassuring weight of it against her forearm whenever she moves. <br><br> And there—you also uncover the secret to her apparent (and now confirmed) sobriety! Calixte is an incredibly skilled Healer, and she's been using her magic to speed up her metabolism and break down the alcohol in her system the moment it hits her bloodstream. She <i>is</i> drinking, but she's also burning through the alcohol so quickly that it doesn't have time to get her drunk. <<if $drunk is true>> Damn—you wish you'd thought of that sooner. With the state you're in now, though, attempting to mess around with your body's complex internal systems doesn't seem like the best idea. Maybe next time. <<else>> It's enormously clever, and now that you know it's possible, you'll have to file it away for future use. <</if>> <br><br> <<include "calixte_success_key">> <<else>> Riel steps in to distract Calixte with conversation about the tournament while you try to slip past her mental defenses. You immediately find it a harder task than you expected. Her protections are far more ironclad than most of the Mages of your time: magic-users of this time are presumably far more accustomed to guarding themselves from psionic intrusion. And unluckily, your attempts to infiltrate her thoughts are immediately noticed; Calixte looks at you sharply, cutting Riel off mid-sentence, and says, her voice reverberating telepathically through your skull: <i>Don't even try it.</i> <br><br> She doesn't even sound angry—more incredulous of your sheer audacity and gall. Oops. You hastily withdraw your clumsy mental probe and resolve to try a different tactic. <<include "calixteinterrogate">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $shiko is false>> Scrying without the benefit of retreating to a private sanctuary—without noise and distractions—and especially without the aid of a focus like a mirror or a disk is practically unheard of and monumentally difficult. <</if>> <<if ((($psionic >= 75) and ($magic >= 70)) or (($specialization is "diviner") and ($psionic >= 70)))>> <<if $shiko is false>> Still, you have managed it before, with mixed results; you've been able to throw your awareness towards a locked room and eavesdrop on the occupants within at a pinch. Peering into someone's pockets is a different, fussier task, but theoretically should be possible. <br><br> <</if>> You narrow your focus down into a single fixed point, then send it arrowing towards Calixte's robe. If she has the key, it must be somewhere she can keep checking easily… there! Your psionic senses ping against something in her right pocket, where a large iron object about the length of a hand is resting. That must be the key. <br><br> <<include "calixte_success_key">> <<else>> You try and narrow your focus down to a single fixed point, but when you try to send it arrowing towards Calixte, your senses bounce off of her as if she's protected by some invisible barrier. It's like reaching for someone's hand, only to grasp at empty space; you can't penetrate her defenses or perceive her with your magical sight at all. You curse. She must have laid a protective spell on herself exactly to deter such scrying. You'll have to try another way. <<include "calixteinterrogate">> <</if>><</nobr>>

You catch Riel's eye and signal discreetly; he doesn't bat an eye and continues holding his conversation with Calixte for several minutes before smoothly excusing yourselves and slipping away. He smiles in admiration when you tell him what you've learned and says sincerely, "Brilliant. And judging by her body language, she never even suspected a thing." <<include "calixte_regroup">>

Shery and Chandry rejoin you just as you're conferring about what to do next. "Now that we know she has it," you say, "how do we get it off of her?" Riel puts a hand to his chin, frowning. "Well," he says slowly, "not only do we need to think of how to get the key from her, we also need to think of a way to either replace it or fool her into thinking that it's still there: otherwise, she may raise a fuss looking for it and draw unwanted attention to us, meaning we'll have to fend off other teams for the rest of the night. I'm sure you have a magical way to accomplish this, but if not, I might have my own plan." <<include "calixte_regroup_choices">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if ((($magic >= 65) and ($arcane >= 50)) or (($specialization is "conjurer") and ($arcane >= 20))) or (($specialization is "shifter") and ($arcane >= 30))>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Now that I know where it is, I can conjure the key out of her pocket and switch a shifted item into its place."</div>' 'autogenerated_686082'>><<set $key to true>><</link>><</if>> <<if ((($magic >= 75) and ($psionic >= 75)) or (($specialization is "enchanter") and ($psionic >= 70)))>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I can enchant her into giving me the key and trick her mind into believing that she still has it."</div>' 'autogenerated_686083'>><<set $key to true>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("riels_plan")>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"What's your plan, Riel?"</div>' 'riels_plan'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'll threaten to beat her within an inch of her life unless she gives me that key."</div>' 'autogenerated_686084'>><<set $trial -= 1>><<setriel -5>><<setcunning -5>><<setcharisma -3>><<setcompassionate -5>><<set $key to true>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $drunk is true>> Your mouth is starting to feel like it's full of marbles, but Riel nods as if this plan makes total sense. <<else>> Riel nods slowly, thoughtfully. "Will she notice that the item has been Shifted?" <br><br> You shrug. "There's always that chance, but I should be able to layer it in such a way that she won't notice unless she's taken the key out and is examining it really closely—which I can't see why she would do, given that she's literally surrounded by people who would pounce on her the moment they saw what she had." <</if>><</nobr>> From there, it's quite elementary to swipe a spoon off of a table and subtly Shift it into a key; you spend a significant time finagling with the heft and feel of it, but after a while it seems a passable enough duplicate. Then you slip the spoon into your own pocket, fix your eyes on Calixte's from across the room, and <i>concentrate</i>. You imagine her key dissolving into thin air, traveling across space in a single instant… only to appear in your own pocket, safe and sound. Your fingers close around its rough metal surface just as you feel your forgery disappear and materialize in Calixte's robe; she never appears to notice the slight transition. You grin in triumph just as Riel heaves a sigh of relief. It's all you can do to not pull the key out and loft it over your head like a trophy. <<include 'victory'>>

<<nobr>><<if $drunk is true>> Your mouth is starting to feel like it's full of marbles, but Riel nods as if this plan makes total sense. <<else>> Riel frowns. "She may not notice that she's been bewitched, but will anyone else? What about her teammates?" <br><br> "Wha-what if someone else asks to see the key?" Shery adds, blinking hard and clearly making an effort to say something of use. She sways a little, then continues, "The enchantment might work on <i>her</i>, but if she thinks she still has it and pulls out empty air when they ask to see it, they'll… um, the rest of them will know." <br><br> You glance over as one of the Pyrran Mages tries to do a headstand on a bucket and another hugs her legs, yelling about how her head has disappeared. "I don't think we need to worry too much about them. By the time any of them sober enough to notice what's been done, it'll be too late to do anything about it." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'calixte_enchantment'>>

You don't know anything about these people and no clear way of obtaining intel on them, so blackmail, persuasion, lying, and most other methods are out. That pretty much just leaves you with threats and fear, and you are a hardened Shepherd who's seen and done a lot in your career; compared to these pampered academics, you have no doubt that you could put the fear of God into Calixte if you wanted to. Riel, Shery, and Chandry all turn to give you incredulous looks. "Erm… isn't violence forbidden during this trial?" Chandry asks tentatively, seeming significantly more sober than he was a moment ago. You shrug. "Yes, but if she believes I'm crazy enough to not care about that, she may still decide it's not worth risking her life or wellbeing over. Her team has already downed a lot of drinks, after all. Even if they don't have the key by the end of the night, they'll still almost certainly pass on to the next trial. I just have to make her weigh her options and decide that keeping it isn't worth it." "And… you're going to do that… by acting so unhinged that she fears violence from you?" Riel says carefully. You nod. "She needs to believe I'm willing to do anything to get that key. So long as I don't actually follow through on any of it, it isn't violating any rules." They all exchange looks again, and Riel says in a coolly polite tone, "If that's what you think is best…" However, the half-lidded look in his eyes is clearly skeptical. <<include 'threatencalixte'>>

<<page_break "Next" "calixte_enchantment_continue">>

<<nobr>><<if $drunk is true>> It takes a monumental effort to marshal yourself, but once you feel sufficiently prepared (and not quite so dizzy), you march confidently over to Calixte, forcing a jovial, disarming smile on your face. <<else>> After several minutes of preparation, you finally gear yourself up enough to march confidently over to Calixte, forcing a jovial, disarming smile on your face. <</if>><</nobr>> She frowns as you draw close, pointing and laughing at something over her shoulder under the pretext of being playful, and opens her mouth just as a suspicious look crosses her face. "Wha—" That moment of unguardedness is all you need to slip past her mental defenses and forcefully seize control of her mind. Calixte's body goes rigid as she gasps at the shock of your intrusion—and then, just as quickly, she relaxes, her face going slack and content as your enchantment takes hold. "Reach into your pocket," you say in a low voice, "and hand me the key. Discreetly. When I walk away, you're going to forget this ever happened, and you're going to feel that key still there until the trial is over." Calixte tilts her head, as if listening to some faraway command, then nods sleepily. After checking to make sure that no one is watching, you allow her to pass you the key, slip it into your pocket, and then turn and walk away, keeping your magic clamped tightly on the enchantment in her mind until enough power has seeped in to take hold without you having to actively monitor it. Easier than taking candy from a baby. You return to your group, grinning in triumph as Riel heaves a sigh of relief. It's all you can do to not pull the key out and loft it over your head like a trophy. <<include "victory">>

His eyes go half-lidded in that classic 'scheming' look he has; he strokes his chin and says thoughtfully, "Well, it's a daring strategy, but I have some reason to believe it might work. I don't believe Calixte will let either you or I near her for the rest of the night; judging from that interaction, she fears we might be onto her, so her guard will be up if she sees us lingering in her vicinity. That rules out more traditional methods like pickpocketing. But if we found some way to momentarily distract her, especially in a way that doesn't seem particularly threatening or out of place, while having someone less on her radar approach… that person may be able to escape her notice and steal the key from her." And he tilts his head meaningfully towards Chandry and Shery. Shery actually gasps out loud, her eyes going as round as disks as she takes a step back from your huddle. "You're not talking about <i>me</i>, are you?" "I sincerely mean no offense when I say this," Riel tells her, "but you do have a very innocuous appearance, Shery. You yourself have remarked that people often fail to notice or pay attention to you, or even to remember your face. I believe you'd have the best chance of 'bumping' into Calixte without raising any of her alarms; she thinks you're harmless, if she thinks of you at all, and so she won't think anything of it. Not like she would if <<c firstname>> were to bump into her. She may not even remember you're on <<c firstname>>'s team." He pauses significantly. "And again, I don't mean that as an insult. If you were a Ket, your skills at moving around undetected would be greatly valued." "B-but I'm not—I don't think I could <i>steal</i> something," Shery stammers, more of her usual demeanor emerging from beneath the drunkenness as panic sets in. "I'm so clumsy, and—I've never had to do anything like that before!" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Lay a hand on her arm. "We believe in you. I <i>know</i> you can do it."</div>' 'autogenerated_686085'>><<set $sheryharden += 1>><<setshery +5>><<setcompassionate +1>><<set $doubletrouble to true>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Scratch the back of your neck. "That's a lot of pressure, Riel. I'm not sure it's fair to force someone who has no experience in field work to act as a pickpocket..."</div>' 'autogenerated_686086'>><<set $sheryharden -= 3>><<setcunning +1>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setcharisma -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Stare at Riel as if he's gone mad. "Are you insane?" You've seen Shery trip over <i>air</i>. "There's no way we're trusting something like this to her."</div>' 'autogenerated_686087'>><<setshery -30>><<set $sheryromanceflag = 0>><<setcharisma -5>><<setcompassionate -3>><<setriel -3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $sheryromanceflag >= 5>> <<set $sheryromanceflag += 3>> <</if>><</nobr>> "You are so capable that it's almost scary," you tell her. "You single-handedly cleared out the Vaults by yourself. Even on your days off, you run around taking care of <i>everybody</i> in the Order. Compared to all of that, slipping your hand into someone's pocket is nothing." <<include 'sheryhardensteal'>>

<<nobr>><<if $sheryromanceflag >= 1>> <<set $sheryromanceflag -= 5>> <</if>><</nobr>> Shery nods vigorously, and Riel sighs. "Very well," he concedes. "I believe it's well within Shery's capabilities, but if you have another plan…" <<include 'calixte_regroup_choices'>>

<<nobr>><<if $rielromanceflag >= 1>> <<set $rielromanceflag -= 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> Shery bites her lip, but says nothing to dispute you. Still, she looks stung by your flat rejection, and Riel shoots her a sympathetic look before he concedes, "…Very well. If you feel that strongly about it, we won't do it. But what would you propose?" <<include 'calixte_regroup_choices'>>

<<nobr>><<if $sheryharden >= 5>> Shery gifts you an encouraged smile, then lifts her chin, taking a deep breath. "I-I'll try," she says bravely. "I won't let you down." <br><br> <<include "doubletrouble">> <<else>> Shery gives you a watery smile, but then her eyes slide away from yours, and she takes another step back from you. "I'm sorry," she mumbles, averting her gaze as she hugs herself. "I… I can't. I would only let you down." <br><br> Riel sighs. "Back to the drawing board, then." <<include "calixte_regroup_choices">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<page_break "Next" "doubletrouble_continue">>

<<set $key to true>> From there, it's an almost alarmingly simple task. After strict instructions from you not to be too obvious about being a distraction—<i>yes, that means no dramatic monologues or magic shows</i>, Riel insists—Chandry wanders aimlessly towards the center of the room, only vaguely in Calixte's direction. Once Shery is in position, he abruptly slips in a puddle of water and falls into a low table with a tremendous crash. Producing such a racket from a single fall actually seems like a talent, from the way he does it. "<i>Ay</i>!" he shrieks, writhing in agony amid the ruins of crushed pastries and spilled drinks. A few Mages hustle to help him, laughing good-naturedly—several people have already tripped and fallen, and at least one stayed in a dozing heap on the ground—but their smiles quickly fade as Chandry contorts and convulses, wailing about a broken tailbone. "I am undone!" he screams. "<i>I shall never walk again!</i> Curse you, wretched puddle! Frailty, thy name is Chandry!" "Someone get him a Healer," you shout in the brief lull in the party, altering your voice as everyone—Calixte included—turns and slowly takes notice of all the commotion. But then talk resumes—with much eye-rolling at the clown's theatrics—when one such Healer comes forward and declares him perfectly fine. It's at this moment that Shery moves behind Calixte, walking at an unhurried pace as if she's merely navigating to the bathroom; from across the room, all you see is a slight jostling motion as she bumps into the Mage's back, murmuring a quick apology as she hustles past. Calixte doesn't even look at her, already turning away from Chandry's scene to make some scathing comment to a teammate. You hold your breath and watch from the corner of your eye as Shery slowly meanders to the buffet table, pokes through a few depleted platters, and then arrives back to your group just as Chandry eases himself off the floor, kissing the Healer who helped him on both cheeks in a show of enthusiastic gratitude. Her face is mostly neutral, but her eyes shine with excitement as she catches your eye and nods. "Well done," Riel says in a low tone as you try not to show any overt reaction; jumping or pumping your fist would give you away. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Squeeze her shoulder. "I knew you could do it!"</div>' 'doubletrouble_finale'>><<setshery +3>><</link>> <<if $sheryromanceflag >= 15>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Touch her cheek. "That was amazing. You're amazing. I could just about kiss you right now."</div>' 'autogenerated_686088'>><<set $sheryromanceflag += 5>><<setshery +5>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Nod professionally at her. "Well done."</div>' 'doubletrouble_finale'>><<setshery +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

You can't exactly hug her—any obvious signs of celebration would be far too suspicious—but touching her like this is reward enough. So is the look on her face as she stares up at you, practically glowing with happiness; she seems to be lit from within by a soft radiance that is so beautiful it threatens to steal your breath away. The tension is broken just as Chandry comes leaping up, breathless and gregarious as always. "I trust, my friends, that my miraculous fall was worth it?" He rubs his back ruefully, adding to the illusion for anyone who happens to be watching. "That did hurt a bit." Riel nods to him curtly. "Shery did it. We have the key." <<include 'doubletrouble_finale'>>

She passes it to you discreetly, wrapped in a napkin that she filched from the appetizer table. "What now?" she asks breathlessly, her cheeks flushed. You grin and survey the room, still packed to the brim with a party that shows no signs of stopping. "Now," you say slowly, "we celebrate." <<include "victory">>

<<page_break "Next" "victory_continue">>

Your victory secured, you finally allow yourselves to enjoy the festivities in their full glory.<<nobr>><<if $drunk is true>> The night spins past you in a long, dizzying carousel of color and sound, and it's only now—released from the stress of accomplishing your task—that the full effects of the drinks you took finally kick in. It feels like a donkey kicked you in the brain, but <i>in the best way possible</i>. You feel in turns euphoric, free, disembodied, floating, more clever and incisive and articulate than you've ever been in your life. Everything becomes elongated smears of awareness, dotted by brief gaps of forgetfulness, and the evening unfolds in front of your eyes in a series of truncated sensations, scenes, scents, images, and the fragments of sounds and memories, all stitched together in one mismatched patchwork quilt. <br><br> <<page_break "Next" "victory_drunk_scenes">> <<else>> <<include "notdrunk">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Riel definitely throws up in a potted plant somewhere, though you can't recall where... or when. <<page_break "Next" "victory_drunk_scenes2">>

Somewhere you can hear Chandry slurring in a very loud tone, "I say, madam, I am flattered by your attentions, but this is all very uncouth—I say, unhand me!" while he tries to wrestle his way out of some empty drapes. <<page_break "Next" "victory_drunk_scenes3">>

You're on a table. Why are you on a table? Are you... dancing? And singing? Who's this up here with you? One of the bards?! Oh, right, you had a good reason for being up here... But what was it? <<nobr>><<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="drunk">Whoa! You almost slipped and broke your neck—time to climb down—</span><<else>>Whoa! You almost slipped and broke your neck—time to climb down—<</if>><</nobr>> <<page_break "Next" "victory_drunk_scenes4">>

Mimir is still curled up like a cat underneath one of the tables, dead asleep. No one even notices that she's there. <<page_break "Next" "victory_drunk_scenes5">>

You're hanging on to someone's lower torso for dear life as they hang halfway out of the window. <<nobr>><<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="drunk">Who <i>is</i> this?</span><<else>>Who <i>is</i> this?<</if>><</nobr>> Chandry's hanging on to the other leg, so it can't be him... And Riel and Shery are on the other side of the room. Wait a minute... <<page_break "Next" "victory_drunk_scenes6">>

"COSMAS AND SHIKO, KISSING IN A TREE! K-I-S-S—wait, what's a <i>tree</i> got to do with any of this?!" "I don't know! It's just what they say!" "Who's <i>they</i>?" "Dunno!" <<page_break "Next" "victory_drunk_scenes7">>

"I consider it a personal best... that I haven't been sick yet. Like, on par with what I did in Lockwood." Riel stirs; you can only see one part of his expensive, shiny wingtip shoe. "Congratulations." <<page_break "Next" "victory_drunk_scenes8">>

One thing you've learned about Shery tonight; she gets very <i>fighty</i> when she's drunk. This is the second altercation you've dragged her away from this evening... "Well, it does make sense," Riel murmurs. "She never lets herself become angry when she's sober." Chandry nods sagely. "So much repressed rage. It had to come out somehow." <<page_break "Next" "victory_drunk_scenes9">>

"Fire... FIRE! That's a fire!" <<page_break "Next" "victory_drunk_scenes10">>

"ARMALENTHIEH!" Someone is screaming this at the top of their lungs, to a chorus of boos and hisses. "BEST FUCKING SCHOOL ON THIS SIDE OF THE CONTINENT! YEAH! Shut up, Lochran, you total—" <<page_break "Next" "victory_drunk_romance">>

<<nobr>><<romancecalc>> <<if ($highestromance is "shery") and ($sheryromanceflag >= 20)>> <<set $sheryromanceflag += 1>> The image of Shery, laughing and smelling sweetly of vanilla and sugar, dances before your eyes. She's saying something, and you're saying something, but your voices sound like they're underwater, which for some reason strikes you as absolutely hilarious. And now you're dancing together to the music of the valiant bards, giggling crazily and tipping against each other as you fall in and out of rhythm to the band... and then you're noticing the lovely way her eyelashes tangle against her bangs as her blue eyes look up at you, and how soft her skin is as you rub your thumb against her hand and twirl her, and the whisper of her against her hair neck as she sways to the music, and how distractingly pink and shiny her lips look as you lean closer to see them in better detail as she says something like, "<<c firstname>>... I just wanted to say that—ever since I met you, I—" <br><br> Someone bashes into you hard, knocking you off-balance; Shery gasps and moves to catch you in her arms. For a moment, your face is distractingly pressed against her collarbone before you're yanked up again—by the person who bumped into you—and are greeted by the unwelcome sight of Lochran's red face. He shouts cheerfully, "Sorry, Ancel—Ancells—Ankles! Didn't see you there, I swear it!" <br><br> He's cut off by Shery's outraged wail as she launches herself at him, pounding his chest with her small fists. "You ruined it!" she sobs. "You—you son of a bitch, you ruined <i>everything</i>, I'll kill you!" <br><br> You remember dragging her off of an unharmed but thoroughly confused Lochran, but not much else after that... <<elseif ($highestromance is "riel") and ($rielromanceflag >= 30)>> <<set $rielromanceflag += 5>> You and Riel are slouched together against a couch tucked away in a more private corner while the party rages on around you. (Is this Prince Cosmas and Shikokami's couch? Where did they go?) Somehow, your arm is draped across Riel's narrow shoulders, and his head is tipped against your cheek, his shining dark hair smelling of expensive pomade; apparently he's too exhausted (or too drunk) to move. He's listening to you talk about something, and then he's dragging himself up to see your face, saying in a strained but lecturing tone, "No, I disagree, the filing system of the Order could be <i>much</i> more efficient if—" From the thick drag in his voice—not like a slur—he is <i>very</i> drunk. His dark blue eyes are almost fully eclipsed by his dilated pupils. <br><br> And then you find yourself studying the rest of him, your eyes held to his face as if by some magnetic force, and you can't help but admire the fine sharp lines of his face and the delicious hint of his cologne and the way the column of his throat looks against his starched collar and how you'd like to get a closer look at his lips... <br><br> Riel also leans towards you, his blue eyes half-lidded, as if equally mesmerized by the details of your face—and then abruptly, clumsily, he reaches up and splays his open palm against your face, pushing you backwards until the back of your head flops against the high seat. "Not like this," he mumbles as you lay there obligingly, now fascinated by the way the ceiling spins. "Not the first time... not when we're drunk... Plan..." With little more aplomb, he staggers blindly away from you; you're not sure how much time passes after that, before you come across him draped half-inside an empty barrel, unable to get himself back out... <<else>> "Oi, someone stop her! Gods in heaven, did she sprout <i>wings</i>?" <</if>><</nobr>> <<page_break "..." "victory_drunk_finale">>

<<timed 3s>><<goto "victory_drunk_finale2">><</timed>> <span class="next">[[Next|victory_drunk_finale2]]</span></div></center>

<center><div class="dot"> <<timed 1s t8n>> ... <<next>>... <<next>>... <</timed>><span class="next">[[Next|nextmorningtrial3]]</span></div></center> <<timed 5s>><<goto "nextmorningtrial3">><</timed>>

<<nobr>><<set $shiko to true>> <<if $drunk is true>> The room begins to spin even faster <<else>> Riel follows <</if>><</nobr>> as you make your way back towards Prince Cosmas and Shikokami, who are exchanging looks with each other as if to say: <i>Oh gods, not $them again.</i> "Hello," Prince Cosmas says courteously, his dark eyes traveling curiously from you to Riel. "Did you forget something?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $drunk>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Lean forward and tweak his nose. "Yeah, I forgot to tell you how <i>shit-faced</i> I am."</div>' 'autogenerated_686089'>><<setriel -1>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Yes, I forgot to introduce you to my colleague here. He's a historian and would love to ask you questions about the Koppyr Isles."</div>' 'autogenerated_686090'>><<setcharisma +1>><<setcunning +1>><<setriel +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"No, I just like you guys."</div>' 'autogenerated_686091'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Prince Cosmas blinks, looking more bemused than offended, while Shikokami stares at you with her mouth literally agape. Riel, too, is giving you a singularly appalled look, but he quickly recovers his composure and smoothly steps in to redirect the conversation as you sink down onto the cushions across from the couple. <<include 'interrogateshikokami'>>

Riel steps in, as smooth as butter, and distracts Prince Cosmas with a series of well-informed questions while you sink back down onto the cushions across from the couple. <<include 'interrogateshikokami'>>

Prince Cosmas smiles, looking surprised and a little pleased by your answer, while Shikokami scoffs lightly under her breath. Riel redirects the conversation and distracts the prince with a series of well-informed questions while you sink back down onto the cushions across from the couple. <<include 'interrogateshikokami'>>

While he talks, you focus on sussing out Shikokami, who meets your gaze from over the low table separating the two of you with an even, steady expression. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("shikokami_read_mind")>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Try to read her mind and see if she has the key.</div>' 'shikokami_read_mind'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("shikokami_scry_person")>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Try and scry her person to see if she has the key.</div>' 'shikokami_scry_person'>><</link>><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if (($specialization is "enchanter") and ($psionic >= 75)) or (($psionic >= 80) and ($magic >= 80))>> Shikokami's mental defenses are extraordinarily ironclad, more so than most Mages you encounter: she must be an Enchanter of some sort who's had extensive training in this area. <br><br> Unluckily for her, you're <<c firstname>> <<c surname>>, so although it takes you a great deal of effort, you're eventually able to squirrel past her defenses and get a glimpse into her mind, even as you sip idly at your drink and act as though nothing unusual is happening. <br><br> The results you find are more of a letdown, though: it does not seem as if Shikokami has the key... though she does seem to be concealing some secrets about her past from her peers at Lethe—something about being a Ket-Mage, something about her family's unsavory enterprises—as well as the beginnings of genuine feelings for Prince Cosmas. And there's guilt, too, and anxiety—though over what, you don't have time to delve into. Did she use her enchanting magic to do something to him? You don't think she used her powers to seduce or charm him, only made him forget something about her... <br><br> Interesting, but not what you're looking for, so you back away from her thoughts without ever alerting her to the fact that you were there. <br><br> After a few more minutes of talking, Riel catches your eye, and although his expression doesn't change as he asks Prince Cosmas about the state of the economy in his country, there's a telltale quirk of inquiry in his gaze. You shake your head imperceptibly, and within moments, Riel wraps up the conversation with a flawless excuse, rises, and exits with you. Prince Cosmas and Shikokami turn back to their conversation, seemingly none the wiser that your pleasant talk was anything more than that. <br><br> <<include "notshikokami">> <<else>> <<set $falsekey to true>> Shikokami's mental defenses are extraordinarily ironclad, more so than most Mages you encounter: she must be an Enchanter of some sort who's had extensive training in this area. <br><br> Unfortunately for you, this means she lifts her eyes to yours as soon as you so much as scratch against her mind, her lips quirking in an amused but not particularly cruel smile. <i>Nice try</i>. <br><br> <<include "shikokamisspell">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Scrying without the benefit of retreating to a private sanctuary—without noise and distractions—and especially without the aid of a focus like a mirror or a disk is practically unheard of and monumentally difficult. <<nobr>><<if ((($psionic >= 75) and ($magic >= 75)) or (($specialization is "diviner") and ($psionic >= 70)))>> What's even more difficult is pulling it off without a fellow Mage like Shikokami sensing what you're doing, and from the way her magic feels, you'd guess that she's some sort of strong Enchanter, which makes your task doubly difficult. <br><br> Still, it's not impossible, and after a moment of narrowing down your focus to a fixed point (all while casually sipping from a glass and pretending to nod along to Riel and Prince Cosmas's conversation about the economy), you send your concentration arrowing towards Shikokami, skimming over her pockets and any pouches she might have concealed on her person. <br><br> To your disappointment, you don't find any evidence that she holds anything like a key, so you withdraw your mental probe, blink hard to clear the stars from your eyes, and then catch Riel's gaze. He catches talking calmly to Prince Cosmas, but he looks back at you with a quirk of inquiry in his eyes; at your imperceptible head shake, he quickly wraps up the conversation, rises, and exits with you with a flawless excuse. Prince Cosmas and Shikokami turn back to their conversation, seemingly none the wiser that your pleasant talk was anything more than that. <br><br> <<include "notshikokami">> <<else>> Unfortunately for you, your task is made even more difficult by the fact that Shikokami seems to be an extremely powerful Enchanter, with her psionic senses bolstered by years of extensive training. She immediately notices your attempts to scry her person, turning to you and saying coolly, <i>I'll thank you not to paw at me with your magic.</i> <br><br> <<include "shikokamisspell">> <</if>><</nobr>>

"It wasn't her," you tell him in an undertone. Riel sighs and scans the room. "To Calixte, then," he says. <<page_break "Next" "calixte">>

You hastily begin to pull back, embarrassed to have been caught, but she stops you. <i>Wait.</i> She shows you a mental picture of the key in her pocket. <i>Is this what you were looking for?</i> Stupefied, you glance to Cosmas and Riel, who look none the wiser as they continue to chat about the economy in the Koppyr Isles. <i>...Yes?...</i> <i>Take it.</i> Her voice is soothing, almost gentle; something about it has a lulling quality, like a cup of hot tea. Your brain, for some reason, feels as if it's been coated in honey. <i>I don't want to play this stupid game, anyway. I'd rather enjoy my night with Prince Cosmas than worry about it. We don't have much time together, so... it would be a relief if you took it. Please?</i> You nod sleepily and reach out to accept the key from her, a heavy iron thing that rests neatly in your palm. Riel and Prince Cosmas still don't react as you place it into your own pocket; this strikes you as strange, but the observation is a distant, faraway thing, as if it's coming from a part of yourself that seems to have fallen asleep. Shikokami smiles at you benevolently as you rise to your feet and wander away from the table. <i>Run along now. Don't cause any more trouble for the rest of the night.</i> After a few moments, Riel hurries to rejoin you, looking at you sidelong as he says in an undertone, "What happened?" You grin and wink at him, and his eyebrows raise in surprise. "You have it already? So quickly?" You pat your pocket, where you can feel the reassuring heft of the key clanking against your hip. <i>Don't worry about it.</i> "I finagled it off of her," you return simply. "Don't worry. We have the key, and now we can enjoy the rest of the night." Riel continues to watch you for a moment, looking a bit dubious, but after you reunite with Shery and Chandry and they erupt into cheer and applause at your convincing recounting of what happened, he seems to let the matter go. Glowing and triumphant, it's all you can do not to loft the key over your head like a trophy for all to see. <<include "victory">>

<<nobr>><<set $threatencalixte to true>> <<set $chandry -= 1>> <<setshery -1>> <</nobr>>Deciding you have nothing to lose, you stalk over to Calixte again. She looks up warily as you approach, opening her mouth to begin, "Wha—" She doesn't get another word out before you grip her hard by the upper arm and lean in, whispering the most poisonous slew of threats and ultimatums that you can think of. Calixte initially scoffs in disbelief and moves to twist away from you, but you merely press your advantage, increasing both the strength of your grip and the subtle pressure of your magic against her will, making her more overwhelmed and pliant than she would be normally. Calixte, seeing you mean business, widens her eyes and hisses, "What are you—you're not allowed to hurt me!" "You think I give a shit about that?" you shoot back, widening your own eyes until the whites show. "I showed up to the Crystal Tournament with three Norms, one of whom is a <i>clown</i>. I don't give a rat's ass. I play by my own rules. And that means if I have to cut you open and leave you for dead in the bathroom to get that key off of you, <i>I'm willing</i>." You give her a light shake for emphasis. "No one would even know who did it. Crazier things have happened. And I need to get into Saenreth. You think it's important to <i>you</i>? You have <i>no idea</i> what I'm willing to do to get into that tower." It takes a few minutes of an intense back-and-forth, but you see the fear enter Calixte's eyes as she slowly begins to entertain the possibility that you're serious—and that no help seems to be forthcoming from her happily-drunk comrades. Eventually, her mouth tightens, and she shoves her hand into her pocket and thrusts something metallic at you. "Fine. Now get <i>off</i> me, before I use my magic on <i>you</i> and pull your heart out of your chest." Her voice is weak and ineffective as she says it, though, and you take a moment to examine the key for authenticity before you smugly accept it. You release her, all the while saying in a mocking tone: "I wouldn't tell anyone about this either, if I were you. Imagine how disappointed your team would be if they found out you just handed over the key to the first person who asked for it. Better to pretend like you haven't noticed anything and that you still have it, and feign surprise when you find it missing in the morning. Your team will still pass." Calixte shoves away from you, bashing you with her sharp shoulder as she makes her hasty escape. "Go to Hael," she hisses as she darts past, her voice dripping with hatred. You watch for a moment to make sure that she isn't calling for help—no, instead she rejoins the safety of her group with a tight, shamed expression—before pocketing the key and strolling back your team, whistling all the way. Chandry and Shery are staring at you with expressions of mild horror; Riel merely looks flatly unimpressed, but after inspecting the key for himself and determining that it seems to be real, he simply nods curtly and drawls, "Well... you certainly get results." Shery's gaze drifts back and forth between you. "So... yay? We did it?" "We did it," you confirm, feeling a grim sense of triumph. "Now all that's left is to wait until morning." <<include "victory">>

<<romancecalc>>The night spins past you in a long, dizzying carousel of color and sound. You mingle with the other Mages, learning what you can about their lives and the time period that they live in (though most details are garbled by general drunkenness and incoherence). There is food, and music, and dancing, and laughter. You begin to feel a sense of ease and tentative unguardedness that you haven't felt since you first stepped into the labyrinth, the tension of your situation gradually draining away from you as you soak in the warmth and noise of the party around you. Whether it's seven hundred years ago or the present day, people are just… people. There's something comforting about that. <<nobr>><<if ((($rielromanceflag >= 25) and ($highestromance is "riel")) or (($riel > $shery) and ($riel >= 70)))>> <<set $rielhandhold to false>> At some point in the night, you find yourself splayed across one of the room's many couches, your head lolling back against the neck rest as you watch the proceedings around you in weary, contented silence. <br><br> Riel is slumped next to you, his slouched posture a testament to his own tiredness; normally he sits at such precise angles that it's almost funny to see him looking physically relaxed—you weren't totally sure that it was possible. His eyes are half-lidded in a musing, almost restful way; you both turn your heads slightly to watch Shery and Chandry dancing together in the distance with a group of cheering Mages, still as tipsy and energetic as before. <br><br> "We should go stop them," he mutters eventually, cracking an eye open fully to address you. <<if $highestromance is "riel">> His eye is very, very blue; once again, something in your chest seems to tighten when you consider just how striking his features are. How handsome. It's enough to take someone's breath away. <</if>> <br><br> Across the room, Chandry tries to pick Shery up and swing her around in a baffling dance move, only to send her legs flailing against a large vase, knocking it to the ground with a crash. Everyone in the vicinity cheers, as if this were a deliberate, very impressive trick. <br><br> "Why?" you retort. "The trial's not going to end until morning. Might as well let them have fun while they can." <br><br> Riel snorts; for some reason, this comment strikes him as funny. His snort makes you grin tiredly, and from there, the two of you break into a fit of laughter. It's a strange but welcome sight to see Riel actually <i>laughing</i>, not just chuckling or smiling thinly. It makes him look like a younger man, less rigidly uptight and work-focused and just more… <i>him</i>. You can't help but feel a wave of affection wash over you at the sight. <br><br> <<if ($highestromance is "riel") and ($rielromanceflag >= 25)>> You also notice that his upturned hand has come to rest on the couch, close to yours. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Subtly move your hand closer to his.</div>' 'riel_conversation_continue'>><<set $rielromanceflag += 5>><<set $rielhandhold to true>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Look away.</div>' 'riel_conversation_continue'>><<set $rielromanceflag -= 10>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <<else>> <<include "riel_conversation_continue">> <</if>> <<elseif ((($sheryromanceflag >= 20) and ($highestromance is "shery")) or (($shery > $riel) and ($shery >= 70)))>> At some point in the night, you find yourself splayed across one of the room's many couches, your head lolling back against the neck rest as you watch the proceedings around you in weary, contented silence. <br><br> Shery has flopped down next to you, significantly more sober but still a little tipsy, watching with a sleepy indolence as the party continues to unfold around you. Chandry is on a table, desperately trying to mimic what seems to be a popular dance move of the era (but which really involves a lot of pelvic thrusting) while Riel is checking on Mimir. Shery's glasses are back on, but her pale hair is still tied in a high ponytail, which bobs and bounces as she struggles to keep her head up. <<if ($sheryromanceflag >= 20) and ($highestromance is "shery")>> You have been trying very hard not to be distracted by the wisps of fine hair gathered at the nape of her neck, which catch the light overhead in a very pleasing manner. <</if>> <br><br> "Are you okay?" you ask her for the umpteenth time. <br><br> "Uh-huh," Shery answers thickly, rubbing one long-lashed eye. "Just tired." <br><br> You pat her drooping head. "You can go to sleep. There isn't much else we can do until morning, anyway." <br><br> "Don't wanna," she answers with surprising stubbornness. It turns out that Shery can get a bit feisty when she's well and truly drunk. You're just repressing a smile at the unlikely thought when her head suddenly jerks up again. <br><br> "…<<c firstname>>?" <br><br> "Yes?" <br><br> <<if ($sheryromanceflag >= 20) and ($highestromance is "shery")>> She lifts her chin to meet your gaze, and you're struck by how blue her eyes are; how pretty her soft, round face is. How inviting her lips are. It makes something tighten in your chest—along with the knowledge that she doesn't even <i>know</i> it—but oblivious to this, Shery continues, "…Is there anyone you like? In the Order?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Why do you ask?"</div>' 'shery_romance_question'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Where is this coming from?"</div>' 'shery_romance_question'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Yes, there is." Her, obviously.</div>' 'autogenerated_686092'>><<set $sheryromanceflag += 5>><<setshery +5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Yes, there is." But it's not her.</div>' 'autogenerated_686093'>><<set $sheryromanceflag to 0>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Play dumb. "Like? I like a lot of people."</div>' 'autogenerated_686094'>><<set $sheryromanceflag -= 3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <<else>> <<include "shery_memory">> <</if>> <<else>> <<page_break "..." "notdrunk_end">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Although you don't say it outright, something in your tone seems to put her at ease, because she relaxes slightly, looking pleased—though she also doesn't press to know the exact details yet. <<include 'shery_romance_question'>>

The full meaning of the slow, careful way you say it doesn't seem to register with Shery at the moment, but she does frown at you thoughtfully. "I see." Then, startling you, she suddenly shoots up from the couch, brushing off the hem of her skirt in a businesslike manner. With great dignity and aplomb, she says out of nowhere, "I'm going to go keep dancing." You watch quietly as she holds her head high and makes her way over to Chandry, who whoops with delight and helps her up onto the low table. The evening dissolves into a colorful froth of laughter, sensation, and memory, though Shery is careful not to be alone with you after that. <<page_break "..." "shery_evening_end">> <<include ''>>

Shery smiles, though there's little humor in her gaze as she seems to notice your evasion. <<include 'shery_romance_question'>>

<<nobr>><<if $rielinvestigation is true>> "You know," Riel says quietly, still observing the goings-on with a lazy air, "this reminds me somewhat of the circumstances of our first meeting." <br><br> You glance over at him. "How so?" <br><br> He shrugs lightly. "A party where we had to go around, mingling with the guests and subtly interrogating them to uncover whatever the Trade Minister was hiding. This night had an echo of that…" He smiles to himself. "It's almost enough to make one nostalgic." <br><br> You smile fondly at the thought. "Crazy to think that's how we first met. Strange to think of a time when we were total strangers to each other." <br><br> He nods slowly. "I was nothing more than another civilian to you. And you Shepherds were just a means to an end for me: a solution for ridding the city of Black Sun and the Thieves Guild." He smiles slightly. "It feels like so long ago. You, Trouble, and Blade made such an odd sight in my offices at the Merchants Guild. Trouble had such a scowl on his face, and looked so fearsomely ragged, that I half-feared he might pull out his gun and start firing randomly at the windows. Aerin thought Blade might suddenly decapitate her if she accidentally caused him offense." <br><br> You can't help but laugh. "And look at us now. Now you're a <i>commander</i>." <br><br> "Yes." His look towards you is equally fond. "And you and I are…" He clears his throat, then glances away. <<if $rielromanceflag >= 20>> "Well. I certainly don't think of you as a stranger. I've come to… hold you in very high regard, in fact." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Look back at him softly. "I 'hold you in high regard,' too."</div>' 'autogenerated_686095'>><<set $rielromanceflag += 3>><<setriel +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Tease him. "Come now, that's all you have to say about me? After all we've been through?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686096'>><<set $rielromanceflag += 1>><<setriel +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Mock him. "Ewww, don't get all mushy on me now!"</div>' 'autogenerated_686097'>><<set $rielromanceflag -= 1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <<else>> "Friends." <br><br> "I should hope so," you answer with a grin. "After all we've been through? I wouldn't let you get away with calling us mere coworkers." <br><br> He can't help but laugh at that. <br><br> <<include "riel_praise">> <</if>> <<else>> <<include "riel_praise">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Riel clears his throat and looks away for a moment. "…I'm glad," is all he manages eventually. "Our feelings… seem to be in alignment." <<include 'riel_praise'>>

Riel tsks impatiently. "My regard is extremely hard to earn," he states, straight-faced. "Oh, I'm aware," you answer. "You're as miserly with your respect as you are with your business dealings." Riel snorts. "Scathing, but true." <<include 'riel_praise'>>

Riel tsks impatiently. "Childish," he mutters, though he looks amused despite himself. <<include 'riel_praise'>>

Then you turn to look at him and say, feeling sentimental for some reason: "Hey. I'm not sure if we express this enough, but I just wanted you to know that… we're all grateful to you, you know. Everyone in the Order has come to rely on you, some of us without even realizing it, and you've stepped up and filled a role we didn't even know we needed filling until we met you. It's… you're very important to us, even if you think you're not doing much by staying back from the front lines." You pause, catching his eye as he turns to regard you quietly. "I couldn't imagine the Shepherds without you," you say truthfully. "I'm glad you decided to stick around—that you decided to officially become Commander-Seneschal instead of going your own way with the Merchants Guild. I'm… grateful that you're here." <i>With us</i>. Riel smiles at you. <<nobr>><<if $rielhandhold is true>> Somehow, without either of you even really realizing it, your fingers have become entangled in each other's, your hand resting contentedly in his as if it's always been there. You only notice when he squeezes your fingers affectionately, and your heart gives a startled bump at the realization. <i>When did that happen</i>? <br><br> "Thank you, <<c firstname>>," Riel answers softly. Seemingly without even realizing he's doing it, he lifts your clasped hands and absently kisses the spot between your thumb and forefinger in a gesture of gratitude. "I'm… honored to be here. And grateful to have met you all—and even more so to know you. …More than I can say." He clears his throat, then squeezes your hand again as he continues, "I…" <<else>> "Thank you, <<c firstname>>," he answers softly. "I'm… honored by your words, and grateful to be here. Although I could echo many of your words back to you, I'll skip the trivialities and only say: I'm glad I met you." <</if>><</nobr>> "What are you two doing?" Chandry's voice sounds directly behind you, making you jump about a foot into the air. <<nobr>><<if $rielhandhold is true>> Riel drops your hand as if it had burned him. <</if>><</nobr>> "Sitting? Come, come, that's no good, you must <i>dance</i>, for we are young and the night is warm and beautiful!" Groaning and protesting, you allow the clown to drag you up off of your couch and back into the fray. The evening dissolves into a colorful froth of laughter, sensation, and memory after that. <<page_break "..." "notdrunk_end">>

"Do you remember how we first met?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"In the Shepherd infirmary, after Prihine's wedding. You were the first person in the Order that I ever met, come to think of it."</div>' 'autogenerated_686098'>><<set $sheryromanceflag += 1>><<setshery +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"No, not really."</div>' 'autogenerated_686099'>><<setshery -5>><<set $sheryromanceflag -= 5>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Shery nods slowly. "I was the one who watched over you when Blade, Trouble, and Tallys brought you home, unconscious. We didn't have a dedicated Healer then, and we were so understaffed, so after the Healer we sent for went home, I stayed with you to watch over your condition throughout the night. I was supposed to fetch someone if it seemed like you were deteriorating or needed immediate help, and we also didn't want you to wake up in a strange place without anyone nearby to explain things to you." She smiles a little at the thought, meeting your eye as she continues, "I remember watching over you all throughout that night. I kept wondering what kind of person you were, what you'd been through, what you'd done. Trouble and Tallys had said that you faced down the Revenants all on your own, and how powerful you must be and how valuable you'd be to the Order, but I just kept thinking about what you'd be <i>like</i>. Would you be arrogant, or cruel? What would it be like if you joined us? All of those things passed through my mind during that long night…" <<include 'shery_friendship_memory'>>

"We met in the infirmary," she says firmly, undeterred. "You had passed out after Prihine's wedding. You probably don't remember, but I was the one who watched over you when Blade, Trouble, and Tallys brought you home, unconscious. We didn't have a dedicated Healer then, and we were so understaffed, so after the Healer we sent for went home, I stayed with you to watch over your condition throughout the night. I was supposed to fetch someone if it seemed like you were deteriorating or needed immediate help, and we also didn't want you to wake up in a strange place without anyone nearby to explain things to you." She smiles a little at the thought, meeting your eye as she continues, "I remember watching over you all throughout that night. I kept wondering what kind of person you were, what you'd been through, what you'd done. Trouble and Tallys had said that you faced down the Revenants all on your own, and how powerful you must be and how valuable you'd be to the Order, but I just kept thinking about what you'd be <i>like</i>. Would you be arrogant, or cruel? What would it be like if you joined us? All of those things passed through my mind during that long night…" <<include 'shery_friendship_memory'>>

She trails off, then looks down at her hands, smiling ruefully. "My imagination didn't even come close to capturing the real thing." She takes a deep breath, her voice thickening now. "I never could have imagined—how important to me you would become. How kind, and brave, and strong, and caring you would be… how much I'd c-come to…" She takes a ragged breath, then looks up at you, her eyes holding a telltale glisten as she continues, "You are one of my dearest friends," she says in a choked voice. "I… I treasure you so deeply." Impatiently, she lifts her hands and dashes her tears away with heels of her palms. "So… thank you so much for everything. I can't tell you how much you mean to me. To all of us." She gives you a watery smile. "I just wanted you to know that." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Draw her into a hug. "Shery! I love you too!"</div>' 'autogenerated_686100'>><<setshery +10>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Tease her. "Boy, alcohol really makes you sappy!"</div>' 'autogenerated_686101'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Awkwardly thank her for the sentiment. "Um... thanks. I... I feel the same way."</div>' 'autogenerated_686102'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Act embarrassed. "Okay, that's enough..."</div>' 'autogenerated_686103'>><</link>> <<if $compassionate < 50>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Thanks, Shery. But you know you can be honest like this all the time, right, not just when you're drunk?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686104'>><<setshery -8>><</link>><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

She gives a happy squeal and returns the hug with genuine affection. "You're one of my best friends," she whispers helplessly into your shoulder; the fabric of your robe is damp with her tears, but you think they're happy ones. <<include 'shery_friendship_ending'>>

"If you're going to tell me nice things like that all the time, maybe you should drink more often," you say jokingly. Shery laughs thickly. "Maybe so." <<include 'shery_friendship_ending'>>

Shery smiles, as if she understands what you mean, despite your clumsy way of acknowledging it. <<include 'shery_friendship_ending'>>

Shery's face falls for an instant, but she recovers with a slight smile and an unsteady laugh. "I suppose you're right." <<include 'shery_friendship_ending'>>

Then Chandry is flouncing back over, crying, "What's this? <i>Tears</i>? What have you done to our fair quartermaster, <<c rank>>?" He spends a few moments gently scolding you while you laugh, and the rest of the evening dissolves into a colorful froth of laughter, sensation, and memory after that. <<page_break "..." "notdrunk_end">>

Her gaze is unusually direct as she continues, clearly mustering an effort to speak clearly and articulately: "Because there are a lot of people in the Order who like you. A <i>lot</i>. All these admirers and lovesick recruit, writing you poems and leaving you letters… and that's not even including the fans you have <i>outside</i> of the Order. And I was just wondering… well…" Then her eyes drop to your lips, and she seems to lose her train of thought. After a pregnant pause, she shakes her head, as if dazed, then continues, "Do you remember how we first met?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"In the Shepherd infirmary, after Prihine's wedding. You were the first person in the Order that I ever met, come to think of it."</div>' 'autogenerated_686105'>><<set $sheryromanceflag += 1>><<setshery +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"No, not really."</div>' 'autogenerated_686106'>><<setshery -5>><<set $sheryromanceflag -= 5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You're sort of drifting from topic to topic. What are you really trying to say?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686107'>><<set $sheryharden += 1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Shery nods slowly. "I was the one who watched over you when Blade, Trouble, and Tallys brought you home, unconscious. We didn't have a dedicated Healer then, and we were so understaffed, so after the Healer we sent for went home, I stayed with you to watch over your condition throughout the night. I was supposed to fetch someone if it seemed like you were deteriorating or needed immediate help, and we also didn't want you to wake up in a strange place without anyone nearby to explain things to you." She smiles a little at the thought, meeting your eye as she continues, "I remember watching over you all throughout that night. You were… the most beautiful person I'd ever seen, even while you were sleeping. I couldn't really look away from you. I felt… in awe. I kept wondering what kind of person you were, what you'd been through, what you'd done. Trouble and Tallys had said that you faced down the Revenants all on your own, and how powerful you must be and how valuable you'd be to the Order, but I just kept thinking about what you'd be <i>like</i>. Would you be arrogant, or cruel? What would it be like if you joined us? All of those things passed through my mind during that long night…" <<include 'shery_romance_memory'>>

"We met in the infirmary," she says firmly, undeterred. "You had passed out after Prihine's wedding. You probably don't remember, but I was the one who watched over you when Blade, Trouble, and Tallys brought you home, unconscious. We didn't have a dedicated Healer then, and we were so understaffed, so after the Healer we sent for went home, I stayed with you to watch over your condition throughout the night. I was supposed to fetch someone if it seemed like you were deteriorating or needed immediate help, and we also didn't want you to wake up in a strange place without anyone nearby to explain things to you." She smiles a little at the thought, meeting your eye as she continues, "I remember watching over you all throughout that night. You were… the most beautiful person I'd ever seen, even while you were sleeping. I couldn't really look away from you. I felt… in awe. I kept wondering what kind of person you were, what you'd been through, what you'd done. Trouble and Tallys had said that you faced down the Revenants all on your own, and how powerful you must be and how valuable you'd be to the Order, but I just kept thinking about what you'd be <i>like</i>. Would you be arrogant, or cruel? What would it be like if you joined us? All of those things passed through my mind during that long night…" <<include 'shery_romance_memory'>>

"You probably don't remember," she forges on valiantly, "but I was the one who watched over you when Blade, Trouble, and Tallys brought you home, unconscious. We didn't have a dedicated Healer then, and we were so understaffed, so after the Healer we sent for went home, I stayed with you to watch over your condition throughout the night. I was supposed to fetch someone if it seemed like you were deteriorating or needed immediate help, and we also didn't want you to wake up in a strange place without anyone nearby to explain things to you." She smiles a little at the thought, meeting your eye as she continues, "I remember watching over you all throughout that night. You were… the most beautiful person I'd ever seen, even while you were sleeping. I couldn't really look away from you. I felt… in awe. I kept wondering what kind of person you were, what you'd been through, what you'd done. Trouble and Tallys had said that you faced down the Revenants all on your own, and how powerful you must be and how valuable you'd be to the Order, but I just kept thinking about what you'd be <i>like</i>. Would you be arrogant, or cruel? What would it be like if you joined us? All of those things passed through my mind during that long night…" <<include 'shery_romance_memory'>>

She trails off, then looks down at her hands, smiling ruefully. "My imagination didn't even come close to capturing the real thing." She takes a deep breath, her voice thickening now. "I never could have imagined—how important to me you would become. How kind, and brave, and strong, and lovely you would be… how much I'd c-come to…" She looks up at you now, her eyes glistening, seemingly unable to come up with the words. But does she need to? The expression on her face—the way she's looking at you now—says it all, doesn't it? Or could you be wrong about all of this, interpreting mere worshipful, platonic affection for something else? There's no time to dwell on it further; as if arrested by the sight of you and lured powerfully by a force that she can't resist, Shery is leaning in, catching her breath as if she's being drawn against her will… <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Lean in to meet her.</div>' 'shery_romance_ending'>><<set $sheryromanceflag += 10>><<setshery +10>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Lean back.</div>' 'shery_romance_ending'>><<set $sheryromanceflag to 0>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"What are you two doing?" Chandry's voice sounds directly behind you, making you jump about a foot into the air. Shery jumps back as if someone had physically slapped her. "Sitting? Come, come, that's no good, you must <i>dance</i>, for we are young and the night is warm and beautiful!" There's no point in resisting: he's too drunk to be refused. Groaning and protesting, you allow the clown to drag you up off of your couch and back into the fray. The evening dissolves into a colorful froth of laughter, sensation, and memory after that. <<page_break "..." "notdrunk_end">>

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<span class="splash">The Next Morning</span><span class="splashblur"><<nobr>><<if $drunk is true>> "Urk." <br><br> That's all you have time to say before you crack open your eyes and have your eyeballs seared by the most blinding, excruciating beam of light that you've ever had the displeasure of experiencing. You would take ten thousand luminaries over that. Nausea rollicks through you as you curl up on your side like a shrimp, trying to make yourself small enough that the world will forget about you and simply keep turning until it's dark again. Sweet oblivion beckons you back… <br><br> <</if>><</nobr>> "All right, my lovely Adepts, rise and shine!" <<page_break "Next" "nextmorningtrial3_continue">> </span>

Magister Irnai has come to declare the end of the trial, it seems. <<nobr>><<if $drunk is true>> You try and stir a little, groaning, as pain lances through your skull and you hear the sounds of the other occupants of the room struggling to rouse themselves as well. From the feel of it, you're half-draped over the back of one of the room's many couches, your eyelids feeling as if they've been sealed shut and your mouth as dry and withered as parchment. When exactly did you pass out here? <br><br> "Hrgh," Riel says articulately, somewhere to the left of you. He sounds as sick as a dog. Somewhere to your right, Shery is weeping quietly. "I feel so <i>bad</i>." Mimir crawls out from underneath her table, looking no less for the wear; Chandry is nowhere to be seen. <<else>> You sit up and stretch, feeling your vertebrae crack and pop in an immensely-satisfying fashion after your night of sleeping on one of the room's many couches. You actually feel shockingly refreshed, having passed solidly into slumber after the previous day's many ordeals. You look around, feeling alert and crisp while the other occupants of the room struggle to rouse themselves, groaning and looking decidedly worse for the wear; many of them have a greenish tinge to their skin that brings to mind the Changelings, their lips cracked and pale from dehydration. Five o'clock shadow and hollow eyes dominate the room: you thank your lucky stars that you decided not to partake in the 'festivities,' because the price of admission does not look fun to pay. Shery and Mimir crawl out from beneath one of the covered tables, blinking in the bright light but looking no less for the wear; Riel, who seems to have been sitting upright in an armchair and meditating all night, merely opens his eyes and uncrosses his legs, his tie only slightly more loosened than usual. Chandry is nowhere to be seen. <</if>><</nobr>> "Well," Magister Irnai says cheerfully, seemingly oblivious to all of this. "I'll make this brief, shall I?" They wave their hand, conjuring another scroll into existence to hover at the front of the room; <<nobr>><<if $drunk is true>> you stagger over like a horde of ghouls in an effort to squint at it. <<else>> you hurry over to peruse it while the other Adepts stagger after you like a horde of the undead. <</if>><</nobr>> <<nobr>><<if $key is true>> <<set $drinks += 20>> <<set $firstplace += 1>> FIRST PLACE: ARMALENTHIEH ($drinks POINTS) <br><br> SECOND PLACE: PYRRA (15 POINTS) <br><br> THIRD PLACE: LETHE (12 POINTS) <br><br> Predictably, you automatically took first place by dint of obtaining the key. You crack a small, triumphant smile—although you don't miss Calixte's seething, hateful glare—as Magister Irnai continues, "As you can see, Armalenthieh did exceptionally well by not only obtaining the key relatively early in the evening, but managing to hold on to it while the rest of you lost yourselves in your cups! You can see, too, that many teams fell in the rankings and lost points when their team members eventually lost control of their magic… we will not be seeking reimbursement for the burned curtains, but the young lady who attempted to fly away is now in our infirmary with one broken wing, and the rest of her team will not be moving forward in the tournament as a result." <<elseif $falsekey is true>> <<set $reputation -= 1>> <<setintelligence -3>> <<setriel -5>> <<if $rielromanceflag >= 5>> <<set $rielromanceflag -= 5>> <</if>> FIRST PLACE: PYRRA (30 POINTS) <br><br> SECOND PLACE: LETHE (22 POINTS) <br><br> You feel a jolt as you realize that you haven't been declared the winner of the trial. <i>But we have the key. What…?</i> <br><br> Baffled, you reach into your pocket, only to withdraw… a fork? <br><br> <i>Bamboozled!</i> You turn and look around for Shikokami, only to find her absent. Her teammate from Lethe, however, are smirking over at you. <br><br> "She never had the key," one of them tells you in a mocking tone. "But she thought it was a nice lesson to teach you for bothering her. She's a powerful Enchantress, you see, and she said it was terribly easy to make you believe you had the real thing and then send you on your way." <br><br> Your heart plummets as you turn to confront the shocked and dismayed expressions of your teammates. Shery pats your arm consolingly, but it's a meager comfort when you realize that falling for Shikokami's treachery has landed your team in fifth place, near the bottom of the pack. <<else>> <<if $drinks >= 8>> FIRST PLACE: PYRRA (30 POINTS) <br><br> SECOND PLACE: LETHE (22 POINTS) <br><br> THIRD PLACE: ARMALENTHIEH (${$drinks} POINTS) <br><br> Your heart lifts. You're in the top three! <<elseif $drinks >= 5>> Pyrra is in first place—undoubtedly because they held the key—while Lethe and Belisaere took second and third, respectively. Your team is just below them at fourth place. <<else>> Your heart plummets. Pyrra is in first place—undoubtedly because they held the key—while Lethe and Belisaere took second and third, respectively. Your team is in second-to-last place. <i>Damn</i>. <</if>> <br><br> "As you can see," Magister Irnai continues, "Pyrra did exceptionally well, not only by holding onto the key after obtaining it, but by consuming an exceptional number of drinks to boot! Some of the rest of you might be wondering why your teams are not ranked higher, given that you may have kept apace with Pyrra and the others, matching them cup for cup. Well, anyone who had a team member lose control of their magic had points deducted from their score! Which most of you ultimately did. We will not be seeking reimbursement for the burned curtains, but the young lady who attempted to fly out the window is now in our infirmary with one broken wing, and the rest of her team will not be moving forward in the tournament as a result." <</if>><</nobr>> They go over the rest of the scores before concluding with an encouragement to give yourselves a round of applause, <<nobr>><<if $drunk is true>> which you reluctantly do with many painful winces. <<else>> which you obey, to the painful winces and glares of those around you. <</if>><</nobr>> Magister Irnai finishes, "And that concludes the second trial. Get yourselves tidied up, help yourselves to breakfast and refreshments, and the third proctor will be along shortly to introduce the last trial of the Crystal Tournament." They give you a friendly wave before vanishing with a whiff of hot air and ozone. <<page_break "Next" "morning_after_breakfast">>

"It will be arcane," Riel says roughly as you help yourselves to the buffet of steaming breakfast foods that has appeared in the corner of the room (somehow, the entire chamber has been magically tidied without your even noticing it). You glance over at him as others shoulder past you on their blind search for nourishment. <<nobr>><<if $key is true>> Someone bumps past you rudely—it might have been Calixte, if you cared to dwell on it—but you're too hungry to pay much mind. <</if>><</nobr>> "Pardon?" "The third trial will be a test involving arcane magic," he clarifies, pouring himself a glass of orange juice. Chandry finally reappears, whistling cheerfully to himself as he heaps on piles of scrambled eggs onto his plate. "The first trial, killing the Nemek, seemed to primarily be a test of strength, courage, and most importantly astral magic; you would presumably need a good understanding of both defensive and battle magic to fight the Nemek, healing to prevent them from tracking you by your blood, and mastery over the elements to be able to survive and thrive within the forest. The second trial obviously tested cunning, charisma, and psionic magic; psionic magic again being the most obviously helpful kind when it came to obtaining the key. You'd primarily need enchanting magic and divination in order to detect who has the key and actually get it from them, especially without their knowing. Naturally, I imagine that leaves arcane magic as the last branch to be tested in this tournament." <<nobr>><<if $arcane >= 50>> "That's great news," you say. "Arcane magic is one of my strengths." <br><br> He inclines his head in acknowledgment, though his expression is neutral as he says, "I fear that the arcane knowledge of this time might be more esoteric than even you are used to. It was arcane magic, after all, that trapped us in that Vault and forced us into the labyrinth in the first place." <<else>> "Hmm." Arcane magic is not really one of your strengths. <br><br> Riel inclines his head, seemingly already aware of this, before adding, "I fear that this might be one of the most difficult trials yet. The arcane magic of this time must surely be even more esoteric and inscrutable than it is in ours. It was arcane magic, after all, that trapped us in that Vault and forced us into the labyrinth in the first place." <</if>><</nobr>> <<nobr>><<if $shery >= 65>> <br><br> "<<c firstname>> can do it," Shery says softly, but with confidence. <br><br> <<if $sheryromanceflag >= 20>> She smiles nervously but averts her gaze when you turn to look at her. <</if>> "And we'll be there to help $them. It's just one more trial before we can return home, so we have to—" <</if>><</nobr>> Just then, Iphiara appears at your elbow, making Shery jump slightly and drop a sausage back into the silver chafing dish. "Ancelstierre," she hisses. The silver-haired Mage's eyes dart from side to side, taking in the grumbling, hungover Adepts all around you. "Can we talk? In private?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Look longingly at your steaming plate. "Do we have to?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686108'>><<setriel -3>><<setintelligence -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Set your plate down. "Of course."</div>' 'iphiara_proposal'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Riel glances at you sharply, and you sigh. "All right, fine." <<include 'iphiara_proposal'>>

Iphiara leads you away from the bustle of the main room and towards the relative privacy of the corridor leading to the washrooms; the others remain behind. She wastes no time in turning to you, her eyes flashing, before she grates out: "Shikokami and Prince Cosmas left the party last night, after the majority of you had passed out and it was clear the trial was over. They spent the night in his private quarters. Look—there they are now. " She jerks her chin over your shoulder, and you turn and espy the prince and his escort reentering the room from the far door, looking freshly-bathed and well-rested in comparison to everyone else... as well as boldly clasping each other's hands. From the glow on their faces, it's no secret what they got up to last night. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Good for them."</div>' 'iphiara_proposal_reaction1'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Shikokami was allowed to leave the premises? Is that legal?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686109'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Oh, gross."</div>' 'iphiara_proposal_reaction3'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"So?"</div>' 'iphiara_proposal_reaction2'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"Not <i>technically</i>," Iphiara grumbles. "Or it shouldn't have been, at least. But it was determined that she didn't have the key; everyone else was passed out; and he's a prince—we weren't exactly going to step in and turn things embarrassing when no harm was technically being done." "So then what's the problem?" you ask. <<include 'iphiara_proposal_reaction2'>>

Iphiara's eyes bulge in outrage. "No, <i>not</i> good," she says through her teeth. <<include "iphiara_proposal_reaction">>

Iphiara's eyes bulge. <<include "iphiara_proposal_reaction">>

Iphiara's eyes bulge. "I'll say," she says through her teeth. <<include "iphiara_proposal_reaction">>

"Like I said last night, his royal mother is going to raise Hael when she finds out about this—I'm pretty sure she intends for him to marry some allied monarch or another, and has built her plans around that since his <i>birth</i>—so she's not exactly going to be elated. And the fact that a visiting royal slept with a commoner contestant during one of the trials is not going to reflect well on the integrity of the Crystal Tournament, either! Or me! I was the one who assigned them together, for gods' sakes! I might as well have guided his—dowsing rod—into her ground well myself!" She suddenly seizes your arm in a vice-like grip. "You have to help me." "<i>Me</i>?" You try not to laugh. "What can I do?" Iphiara shakes her head. "I don't know, but you have to do something that will drive them apart. Talk to Shikokami and tell her he's an idiot, remind Prince Cosmas of his princely duties, whatever. <i>I</i> can't be the one to break them up—I fear his mother more, but Cosmas is still a prince, and if I incur his wrath and overstep as the official liaison for Saenreth, it could have far-reaching consequences. Say he withdraws his support of Archmage Tangriel, political or financial—or Hael, say he decides to have me arrested or beheaded for causing him offense! It'd cause an international incident—Saenreth would have to respond, there could be conflict, treaty collapses, maybe even <i>war</i>—" She's gabbling now, looking like she's on the verge of a nervous attack. She shakes her head, wisps of pale-glinting hair escaping her headdress, before continuing shakily, "If you help me fix this somehow, make sure they naturally lose interest in each other and go on their merry ways after the tournament is over... I'll make it so that your team automatically passes into the finals and gains entry into Saenreth. You won't even have to do the third trial. You have my word on that." You stare at her, mute with surprise. Skip the third trial entirely? <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Why are you asking me?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686110'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Do you really have the power to orchestrate that?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686111'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"That doesn't really seem fair to the other contestants..."</div>' 'autogenerated_686112'>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>> <<if $falsekey is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Fine by me. Shikokami deserves whatever's coming for her."</div>' 'autogenerated_686113'>><</link>><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

"Well, it was your delegation that was originally intended to serve as his host," Iphiara answers bluntly. "If Magister Druzhina had come along—or even if <i>you</i> had taken me up on the request to escort him yesterday—none of this would even be happening. So it stands to reason that you'd be the one to receive the opportunity to make amends and set things to rights." It's not exactly how you would phrase it, but she does raise an interesting point. If you hadn't been deposited in the past, would Prince Cosmas have had a different host to begin with—perhaps even one from the original team from Armalenthieh? Did your presence in this timeline cause this turn of events? <<include 'iphiara_proposal_final'>>

"Won't the proctors object?" you ask. Iphiara waves an impatient hand. "You let me worry about that," she says. "My word accounts for a lot—and once I explain things to them, they'll understand. You won't have any trouble once you get in, trust me. So long as you perform well in your studies afterward, this is a mutually beneficial arrangement for both of us." And considering the fact that your time in the labyrinth will end once you've gained entrance to the Tower, that latter part shouldn't even matter in the least. Interesting… <<include 'iphiara_proposal_final'>>

Iphiara looks at you as if you've grown another head. "Since when did you give a hare's whit about <i>that</i>?" she exclaims. "You're the one who dragged three Norms and a <i>clown</i> into this tournament! You've practically made a laughingstock of all we stand for! And now you suddenly want to start playing by the rules?" Well, she sort of has a point there, though it's not as if you were given a choice… <<include 'iphiara_proposal_final'>>

You're still seething over her trick with the false key. Iphiara glances at you in surprise, then shrugs to herself and says, "All right, then. You have an hour or so before the last trial begins. If you can do <i>something</i> about Cosmas and Shikokami before then, I'll come back and check on things. If you've created some distance between them, I'll be satisfied, and you can be excused from the last trial. If not—well, just give it some thought, will you? Everyone always struggles in the third test. Even I did, and I can't imagine what a disadvantage you'll be at with…" She trails off meaningfully, glancing over your shoulder at your teammates again before she shakes her head. "Just think about it. Please." <<include 'turnsonheel'>>

Iphiara's eyes dart over your shoulder before she continues, "Look, just think about it. You have an hour or so before the last trial begins. If you can do <i>something</i> about Cosmas and Shikokami before then, I'll come back and check on things. If you've created some distance between them, I'll be satisfied, and you can be excused from the last trial. If not—well, just give it some thought, will you? Everyone always struggles in the third test. Even I did, and I can't imagine what a disadvantage you'll be at with…" She trails off meaningfully, glancing over your shoulder at your teammates again before she shakes her head. "Just think about it. Please." <<include "turnsonheel">>

She turns on her heel and leaves before you have time to give any further response. <<page_break "Next" "team_discussion">>

You gather your breakfast plate again and rejoin your companions, who have sequestered themselves around a collection of armchairs and couches in front of crowded coffee table heaped with juice cups and dishes. After you explain what just happened, Chandry gasps aloud and cries, "Serve as a wedge between <i>true love</i>? Egad! 'Tis no higher crime!" You hush him fiercely and glance around; thankfully, none of the other groups, including that of Shikokami and Prince Cosmas as they talk with the other Lethe Adepts, seem to have noticed his outburst. Which is just as well; you're not sure you could handle the collective outrage that would be directed your way if anyone found out about your 'deal' with Iphiara. "I haven't decided that I'll do it yet—or even if I <i>can</i>." Shikokami and her prince are still looking mighty cozy together: what could possibly drive them apart in just an hour's time? "I think you could," Riel deadpans. "Their relationship cannot be so solid so as to be utterly unbreakable: they only met yesterday morning, for heavens' sakes." "That shouldn't matter," Shery inserts softly, fidgeting under your collective scrutiny but seeming to agree with Chandry. She says in a tone of further conviction: "People fall in love at first sight all the time, don't they? They'll even get married, have a family, all in the spur of the moment… who are we to say whether that's a proper or strong enough start to a loving relationship?" She shakes her head. "I… I'm not sure we should interfere with them, or ruin their happiness simply to bypass this trial… it doesn't feel right." "We may not have a choice," Riel retorts, as cutting and unsympathetic as ever. "If it was our presence in this timeline that threw them together in the first place, it may be our duty to correct the aberration—who knows what consequences it could have down the line? If Cosmas absconds the throne to be with Shikokami, or worse, makes her his Princess-Consort… it could have untold implications for our present. What if that gives her Luxuen family stronger political ties in the South, leading to some kind of civil war that never took place in our timeline? What if Iphiara is right, and this does lead his mother to declare war on Saenreth in retaliation—a war that never took place in our version of the past?" He shakes his head. "I don't know all of the details of Prince Cosmas's life, but I do remember this: in ten years' time, he will take the throne of the Koppyr Isles. He will be a gentle, ineffectual king. He will marry the princess of another island-nation and have a son. And he will be killed when a coup d'etat is launched in response to his inability to deal with a drought-caused famine; the rebels, driven by foreign influence, will install a puppet-monarch on the throne, leading to the Koppyr Isles to be absorbed into a larger empire and eventually declared our Ivory Isles." "Isn't that all the more reason to leave them to their happiness?" Chandry asks, sounding shocked. "If that prince will be killed in so cruel a fashion in just a few years' time, is it not kinder to allow him to escape his fate with his lover and find happiness elsewhere?" "<i>Kindness</i> has nothing to do with it," Riel answers brutally. "As I said, <i>not</i> allowing his preordained fate to play out could irrevocably change things about our timeline—things that we simply couldn't allow." "And there is the matter of ensuring that we ourselves make it back to that timeline, as well," you note, forking eggs mindlessly into your mouth. "Regardless of how we've done in these previous trials, we still need to pass the third one to earn entry into Saenreth and 'prove' our worthiness to the Tower and the simulacrum keeping us here. And Iphiara alluded that this next test will be the most difficult one—especially when the majority of our team isn't capable of wielding magic. Do we really want to take that risk when we have an automatic out?" There's a long pause as you all absorb this in silence. Finally, noticing that Mimir hasn't said a word, instead sipping politely on a cup of cream-colored tea, you ask her, "What do you think about all of this, Mimir?" She shrugs. "I do not think it matters much, in the end," she says. "They are not real: not to me. The prince's happiness is a dream, in the same way that <i>we</i> are a dream of the gods' designs. It is all…" She waves her hand vaguely. "Ephemeral." Then she sips her tea again, expression bland. "But if you do choose to drive them apart, just know that nothing will work except that bottle you found." "Bottle?" Shery echoes, puzzled, while Riel suddenly sits bolt upright, looking somewhat like a cat that has suddenly become aware of prey in his immediate vicinity. "Potion," he says abruptly, his eyes flying to the burlap sack that Shery's kept at her side all this time, now leaning innocuously against her armchair. "The bottle that Shery found before we entered the labyrinth—" Shery's eyes have turned as round as saucers. "The anti-love potion," she breathes. <<page_break "Next" "antilove_potion_discussion">>

"Well," you state dryly as you all bend over the grimy, mineral-encrusted bottle with the syrupy brown liquid sloshing around inside, "this certainly seems to change things." Riel is frowning to himself and steepling his fingers—his signature pose for when he's deep in thought. "This can't have been a coincidence," he declares. "Finding that bottle just before entering the labyrinth, and now being placed in an exact situation to use it… this was no accident. Something else is afoot." "But does that mean we <i>should</i> use it, or we shouldn't?" you ask. Chandry shakes his head. "It was one thing to think of sabotaging their relationship through words alone," he states dolefully. "If one of them could be persuaded from the other by a mere discussion, persuasion or perhaps even deception—then perhaps you were right, and their young love was not meant to last. Not if it could crumble so easily, and with such slight interference. But to alter their feelings with the use of an irresistible magical brew…" "Wasn't something similar done to that poor woman Thumma, before you broke out with the gladiators in Heth Macoll?" Shery asks then, nervously. "It was a potion, wasn't it, that enslaved her and made her fall in love with the horrible man who oversaw the arena? And now we might do the same thing to someone else? That doesn't feel right." She shivers and hugs herself tight. "And besides—how do we know that this will even work the way we intend it to? It's positively <i>ancient</i>—who knows if the potion is even effective anymore?" "It is," Mimir intones then. "And it will have the intended effect. I have seen it. You merely need to find a way to slip it into his drink." You glance around. The dispirited Adepts are still eating quietly, but the meal is dragging on; soon, you won't have any time left, and the choice will be made for you. Shikokami and Cosmas are sitting alone again by their breakfast table, ravenously devouring pastries together. Cups of milk and juice gleam enticingly in the morning light as it falls in a dusty beam in front of them. Where does your responsibility lie? Getting your team home, no matter the cost, or maintaining your integrity… even if it means failure? <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"We're doing it." Slip the anti-love potion into Cosmas's drink.</div>' 'autogenerated_686114'>><<setriel +3>><<setcunning +5>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setshery -5>><<set $chandry -= 2>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"We'll leave them alone." Take on the third trial, whatever the risk.</div>' 'autogenerated_686115'>><<setshery +5>><<set $chandry += 1>><<setcompassionate +5>><<setcourage +3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $sheryromanceflag > 3>> <<set $sheryromanceflag -= 3>> <</if>><</nobr>> Chandry grimaces unhappily while Shery looks downright crestfallen; Riel merely nods slowly, still looking preoccupied by his own private thoughts. "Very well," he says slowly. "Then I suppose we'd better form a plan before Iphiara returns." <<include 'antilove'>>

<<nobr>><<if $sheryromanceflag >= 10>> <<set $sheryromanceflag += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> Shery's expression is suffused with relief, and she physically exhales in gratitude as Chandry reaches over to pump your hand up and down. "Thank the One-God," she murmurs, clasping her hands against her heart and turning her eyes heavenward. She smiles softly at you. "I think you made the right decision." Riel stirs slightly, still looking deep in thought (and as a result, more detached from what's going on directly in front of you). "For what it's worth, I think you might have, too," he declares aloud, his eyes distant and preoccupied. "Though I can't explain why. There are so many variables at play. Perhaps the labyrinth is so carefully orchestrated that it knew beforehand that we would be placed in this dilemma, and therefore it knew to place this tool in our hands ahead of time. That's the simplest scenario. But then one must consider the other implications. Say we chose <i>not</i> to use the potion, as the labyrinth seems to want us to do, and Cosmas is allowed to follow his relationship with Shikokami. I said before that we cannot risk changing the past—but surely <i>our</i> decision now cannot affect history so much that it would prevent our arriving here in the first place? For example, if Cosmas never became king of the Koppyr Isles because he married Shikokami, and that somehow led to the Autarchy never existing, which would have led to the Shepherds never existing, which meant we never ended up in the Vault, we therefore never would have been placed at this juncture in time to affect the future with our choices either way. It's all a paradox: it would create a break in the chronological continuity. The choice, then, as Mimir says, simply might not matter in the way we <i>think</i> it does." He sighs, looking irritated. "Something is amiss. And for that reason, I think it's better for you to do the opposite of what we think the labyrinth <i>wants</i> us to do… for no better reason than the fact that I have begun to mistrust it, and its reasons for placing us here." Shortly after that, it's time to gather your plates and prepare for the next trial. You reconvene at the front of the room, expectantly waiting for the next proctor to arrive. <<include 'thirdtrial'>>

<<page_break "Next" "antilove_execution">>

<<set $trial -= 1>> A few minutes later, you and Riel casually approach Prince Cosmas and Shikokami once more. Prince Cosmas beams beatifically at the sight of you, but Shikokami merely rolls her eyes, seeming thoroughly sick of your frequent intrusions. (You can't say you completely blame her.) Riel immediately launches into a renewed discussion of Southern Crescent politics with the prince, who gamely tries to keep apace as he sets down his chalice and dabs at his lips with a napkin. To Shikokami, you say: "Do you mind if I ask you something? In private?" Shikokami frowns, but nods, rising gracefully to her feet and following you a little ways away, towards the same corridor that Iphiara cornered you in earlier. Prince Cosmas hardly seems to notice your departure, engrossed in his conversation with Riel—exactly as you had intended. "What is it?" Shikokami asks you, folding her arms and tucking the ends of her wide, trailing sleeves into each other. Now all you need to do is keep her distracted long enough for the others to execute their own parts in your plan. <<include "distractshikokami">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I wanted to ask you about Prince Cosmas. Do you really love him?"</div>' 'distract_love_question'>><<setcharisma -1>><<setcourage +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"So... nabbing a foreign prince. Pretty impressive. What's your secret?"</div>' 'distract_prince_secret'>><<setcunning +1>><<setcharisma -2>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I wanted to get your thoughts on the third trial. Do you have any idea on what it could be?"</div>' 'distract_third_trial'>><<setcunning +1>><<setcharisma +2>><</link>> <<if $falsekey is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I wanted to say that what you did with that fake key... that was not okay."</div>' 'distract_fake_key'>><<setpsionic +1>><</link>><</if>> <<if (($cunning >= 40) and ($intelligence >= 60))>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Last night, I heard others talking about Archmage Tangriel and his head apprentice, Senua. Do you know anything about that?"</div>' 'distract_senua'>><<setcunning +1>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("distract_blank") and ($intelligence < 50)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">You're suddenly drawing a blank. "Um..."</div>' 'distract_blank'>><<setintelligence -3>><<setcharisma -1>><</link>><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

Shikokami immediately scowls. "What business is it of yours?" "I'm just genuinely curious," you tell her. "I mean, the two of you snuck away together last night—I think when you do something as obvious as that, and break the rules of the tournament to boot, there are some who are going to be curious about your motives and intentions. You did just meet yesterday, after all." The other Mage looks away, the red beads of her sleek headdress dangling and jingling slightly with the movement, before she says reluctantly, "Not that I owe any answers to <i>you</i>, but the feelings I hold for him are… sincere. I can't explain it fully, but… you know that I am an Enchantress, yes?" You nod. She shrugs and continues, "In every relationship I've had, I've always felt the need to… to peer into the mind of my suitor, to see if their intentions were really as pure as they seemed. To ensure that they wouldn't… hurt me." <<nobr>><<if $psionic >= 50>> She glances sidelong at you. "Perhaps you've felt the same impulse." <</if>><</nobr>> Then she glances back over at Cosmas—you almost move to stop her, but that would seem suspicious, and Shery and Chandry haven't started their maneuver yet—and continues, in an almost fond, softer voice: "But with him… I don't feel the need to. I can just tell he's being sincere. From the way he looks at me…" She shakes her head again, headdress tinkling. "I can just tell." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You feel a pang of guilt in your gut, but forge on.</div>' 'distract_love_question_continue'>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You resist the urge to roll your eyes. Blah, blah, blah.</div>' 'distract_love_question_continue'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You sniff inwardly. Still hard to believe she could feel so strong a connection after just twenty-four hours, but to each their own.</div>' 'distract_love_question_continue'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Undermine her confidence. "But how can you truly tell? What if he does this with a new woman in every city? Nobles and royals aren't exactly known for their chastity, are they?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686116'>><<setcunning +5>><<setcompassionate -5>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Shikokami falters for a moment, but says calmly, "Not him. He's not like that." <<include 'distract_love_question_continue'>>

"But what about his status?" you ask. "Surely his being a prince will make things—complicated. And what if you pass these trials and get into Saenreth? Will you give up the academy, after all of that, or will you be lovers from afar when he returns to the Koppyr Isles?" She shrugs again. "We'll know what to do when the time comes." But a hesitant expression briefly flits over her face, overshadowing her normal composure; it's clear that they haven't thought that far ahead. <<include "distraction_plan_execution">>

Shikokami looks at you sharply, clearly displeased by your insinuation. "Excuse me?" "Well, it's certainly a fairytale to attract the attention of a royal," you continue. "I was just asking if you had any tips to share." Shikokami's thin nostrils flare; you've clearly struck a nerve with your comment. "I didn't do it on <i>purpose</i>," she says. "And I certainly didn't use any tricks. He loves me for me." You hold your hands up in a placating manner. "Whoa, there—I didn't use the word '<i>tricks</i>.' If you think I'm implying you cast a spell on him or something, I'm not." However, this assurance doesn't seem to mollify her; in fact, it only incites her ire further. Shikokami promptly launches into an invective-filled dressing down of you, and you decide to simply let her spin her wheels. It certainly accomplishes your goal of keeping her distracted. <<include "distraction_plan_execution">>

Shikokami regards you warily. "You had to speak to me alone to ask me about this?" "Well," you state, lowering your voice conspiratorially, "it's not as if I could ask any of <i>my</i> teammates." You nod hintingly in the direction of Shery and Chandry, who are still innocuously dishing themselves seconds at the buffet table. "And I didn't want to ask you in front of them for fear of hurting their feelings." Shikokami frowns, but seems to accept this excuse. "And why me?" "I don't trust any of the other Mages," you answer, flicking your eyes now towards Calixte and Lochran's groups. "I know that we're technically competitors as well, but you don't seem like you'll cut my throat to get into Saenreth like they do. You've been busy with Prince Cosmas, after all—clearly, your one and only priority is not to get into the school at all costs, and I mean that as a compliment: you don't seem as desperate as they do. So I thought there was no harm in asking you. There's plenty of room at the school for both of us, after all." The other Mage ruminates on this for a long while, studying your face as if it's a map that's been presented to her in another language. Finally she shakes her head and says reluctantly, "I know as little as you do. The trials tend to change every year, or at least rotate, so that the incoming prospectives don't get a chance to prepare for them. But I do have friends who earned their admission to Saenreth, and the commonality between their third trials is that they tend to more conventionally… studious than the other ones. More like an exam we might take at any of our own academies." "Like a written test?" you prompt, though she waffles a bit on the specificities of this. Whether it's because she knows the truth and is simply reluctant to tell you, or as equally in the dark as you, you can't be sure. <<include "distraction_plan_execution">>

"Neither was trying to pry," she retorts, looking entirely unrepentant as she folds her arms. "And that <i>is</i> the game we all signed up to play. Don't complain just because you were bested." You'd rather unload and give her a piece of your mind, but swearing retribution and revenge on her will just make whatever's about to happen with Cosmas look all the more suspicious. So you only say grudgingly, "How did you do it?" Shikokami raises a brow. "Why do you want to know?" "Because," you say through your teeth, "I want to know how to keep it from happening to me again." Shikokami eyes you for a moment, warily, before she inclines her head and says, "Fair enough. I would feel the same way." She almost seems to respect your desire to learn. "It was a simple use of Allegenthon's needle method, in which one inserts a thin mental probe to pierce your opponent's defenses…" She proceeds to rattle off a spout of psionic theories, and you decide to nod along as if it all makes total sense to you. Although it's galling, it certainly accomplishes your goal of keeping her distracted. <<include "distraction_plan_execution">>

Shikokami frowns at you. "You needed to get me alone to ask me this?" You shrug. "I thought that if there was anything… unsavory I should know, it might be wiser not to spill others' secrets in front of the prince. Decorum, and all that. And I thought, well—if we're both going to be admitted to Saenreth, maybe it would be good to know about these things beforehand?" Shikokami's frown deepens; she looks rather arch as she says stiffly, "If you're looking to sabotage Senua's performance or replace her as head apprentice, you won't get much of use from me. I happen to be an admirer of hers; I believe she's one of the most brilliant minds currently at work on the Continent. The papers she's published on the possibility of constructing runic alephs, as well as her work pioneering the construction of servitors…" She commences to rattle off an incomprehensible list of Senua's magical accomplishments, and you decide to nod along as if any of the terms make a lick of sense to you. After all, it certainly accomplishes your goal of keeping her distracted. <<include "distraction_plan_execution">>

Shikokami tsks and shifts on her feet, as if to turn around and return to Prince Cosmas. "You can't be serious. Don't waste my time if you don't even know what you want to talk about." <<include "distractshikokami">>

While all of this is going on, you keep an eye on what's happening over Shikokami's shoulder, trying to make it seem as if you're completely engrossed in your conversation while you secretly monitor events near Prince Cosmas. He and Riel are still deep in studious conversation, and soon enough, you see Chandry—your signature distractor—traipsing up to them, slumping down into the armchair positioned between them without a word. He has a very morose, sorrowful look on his face. You immediately feel your heart speed up, even as you nod along to whatever Shikokami is saying. That wasn't a part of the plan! Chandry is supposed to be doing something loud and confusing right now, drawing Cosmas's attention away from the table long enough for Shery to slip the anti-love potion into his drink. You knew that Chandry was uncomfortable with the idea of meddling in the prince and Shikokami's relationship, but if he doesn't do something soon, your whole plan might fall apart… At that precise moment, Shikokami tosses her head slightly and murmurs that she's excusing herself to use the washroom, pausing your conversation and moving down the corridor without glancing back at Prince Cosmas. Meanwhile, you can hear the prince turning to Chandry, who has now taken to sighing and moping theatrically, and asking, "I say, dear fellow, what's got your head hanging so heavy?" Chandry only honks sadly, without reply. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Catch his attention from across the room and draw your finger across your throat in a menacing gesture.</div>' 'distraction_plan_chandry'>><<setcompassionate -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Clench your teeth and glare at him, mouthing, <i>Get on with it, you stupid clown!</i></div>' 'distraction_plan_chandry'>><<setcompassionate -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Take a deep, steadying breath and close your eyes. You just have to have faith in him to do as he's told. Faith. In the clown.</div>' 'distraction_plan_chandry'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"Oh!" Chandry suddenly erupts, clasping his knees and rocking back and forth dolefully in his chair. "I am bereft, Prince Cosmas… for the sight of you and your lover pierces my heart with arrows anew!" You hear Prince Cosmas laughs, a little uneasily, as he stares at the clown, clearly unsure of what to make of him. "I beg your pardon?" "I loved once," Chandry declares loudly, dramatically. "Once, I could have been like you and your lovely lemain. But alas, alas—she could not love a fool like me!" "Because you're a clown?" Riel asks, his tone sardonic. He has to play along with the ruse, after all. "No!" Chandry cries, rocking back and forth more violently. "Because I am a <i>man</i>! And how could I blame her—I am a wretch, a disappointment, an oddity and a freak—the world looks upon and knows not whether it should laugh or cry—" "Come now, surely it can't be so awful," Prince Cosmas says consolingly. "Says one who is a prince!" Chandry shrieks, genuine distress in his voice. "I was a prince once, just like you, and fate conspired against me in the cruelest ways, tore me from my homeland and my dearest friends—oh, how it pains me to recount it—and now love itself has forsaken me, while it <i>blesses</i> you with a thousand kisses after only one day—I should have died then, I shall die, I must die!" And with that, he hurls himself backwards and upends the armchair entirely, sending himself and the chair crashing to the floor in what genuinely seems to be an accident. Riel stands up to stay clear of all of the commotion, but makes no move to help him; Cosmas, as kind and conscientious as ever, instead hurries to right the sobbing clown, frantically babbling reassurances and encouragements. Ironically, hardly anyone else around the room bats an eye; they're either too used to Chandry's antics by now or too hungover to look up from their food. And of course, while Prince Cosmas's back is turned as he bend over the writhing, hiccuping clown, Shery hurries over under the guise of moving to help her teammate... and tips the anti-love potion into the prince's cup in a surprisingly fluid motion before concealing the bottle in her dress pocket, though she looks tense and stone-faced as she does so. You let loose a breath of relief just as Shikokami returns, flatly eyeing her lover's attempts to console your colorful teammate. "I'll be heading back," she tells you dryly. "I'd like to finish my breakfast with Cosmas while there's still time." <i>And you have less time than you know</i>, you think as you watch Shery and Riel excuse themselves and politely bundle Chandry away. Cosmas looks up towards Shikokami and beams sheepishly as he notices her return—then lifts his cup for another drink. You turn away then; your choice has been made, and suddenly you don't feel like sticking around to observe its consequences. <<page_break "..." "potion_aftermath">>

Half an hour later, Iphiara pulls you aside with eyes shining with excitement. "You did it," she breathes, positively gleeful. "I don't know how you did it, but you did it!" You glance over at Shikokami, who's sitting looking bereft, alone, and confused as Prince Cosmas leans away from her, a bored, indifferent look on his face as he deliberately inserts himself into a conversation between her nearby teammates. From his body language, it suddenly looks as if he can't wait to get away from her. You turn back to Iphiara. "We did," you acknowledge. "I hope that means you're uphold your end of the bargain?" The silver-haired Mage nods enthusiastically, still looking over at the non-couple as if she can't believe her eyes; she's obviously trying to work out what you did. "Of course," she says distractedly. "I'll send a message to the other proctors: you don't have to stick around for the third trial. After it begins and everyone else is distracted, you can slip out and head directly to Saenreth." She blinks and looks around at you. "Do you need directions on how to get there?" "Trust me," you answer grimly, already looking forward to shrugging out of your heavy robes, "I know where it is." <<page_break "..." "thetower">>

<<page_break "Next" "thirdtrial_magister">>

He does so promptly, translocating in front of you with a sense of brisk—almost arrogant—efficiency. He's a hook-nosed, black-haired man with a medium build, imposing swoops of hair on either side of his head, and a short pointed beard that makes you wonder if it inspired Lochran's own sad attempt at facial hair. His features are chiseled and proud despite the puckered seams of scars marring the right side of his face; his dark eyes glitter with assessment as they take you all in. You feel your back straightening unconsciously under his regard, almost as if you're faced by one of the Shepherds' battle-masters or drill sergeants. "I am Magister Alzear," he says without greeting, his voice thick and heavy with the accent of the North. "Head of Charter Magic and Hermetic Runes at the school of Saenreth. I am here to tell you about your third and last trial of the Crystal Tournament." However, the instructions he has to deliver are incredibly spare and brief. "Unlike the other trials, your groups will be going one at a time," he states. "This way, you will only be able to rely on your own wits and knowledge, rather surmising things from the work of any other group. You will be presented with an incredibly complex working, a spellcraft constructed of such deep and ancient magic that even our most experienced instructors can have trouble deciphering it. You will be given an hour to understand this working and outline its functions to me once your time is up. If you demonstrate sufficient proficiency, you will pass the third trial. If you do not, you will fail. Either way, your final scores from throughout the tournament will be tallied at the end, and the top teams will be allowed to go on to greet the waiting party at Saenreth. Everyone else will be dismissed to join the general audience once the Initiate trials resume in the arena below." Although several hands go up into the air, Magister Alzear ignores them, choosing instead to simply wave his hand and conjure a floating doorway in the air—another portal to someplace else. "Armalenthieh," he says curtly, gesturing to you to step through as he drills into your soul with his hard, brusque stare. "Step through. You'll be attempting the trial first." <<page_break "..." "thirdtrial_location">>

With no time left to prepare, you find yourselves stepping through the window in the air and blinking in the hard, bone-warming sunlight as the portal closes silently behind you. When your blurry vision resolves into something more recognizable, Shery gasps besides you, and Chandry lets out a little crow of awe and excitement. You're at the top of the city, standing in the uppermost tier of Magus (which would be called the Sun Court in your time). Rather than the grandiose, ostentatious palaces and government buildings that you're familiar with, however, you're confronted by dozens of pearly spires and bizarre, twisting high towers practically singing with magic: the buildings of administration and governance that house the current leaders of Magus, perhaps. Interestingly, you've been deposited on one of the battlements that surrounds and encloses this tier, a kind of large plaza-terrace that overlooks the city below. You lean over the terrace's low parapet and take in the dizzying view of Magus's sprawling lower districts, listing them out in your head. The names for Whitestone and the Market Quarter may have remained the same throughout the ages, but surely Smoketown and Ashtown are not called that in this time: even those lowest neighborhoods, presumably populated by Magus's commonfolk, are still gleaming and pristine, not dingy from centuries of foundries and smoke as they are in your time. In the middle distance, you can even see the telltale pinkish stone of the arena you were just teleported from. "I've been here before," Riel says, sounding slightly discomfited as he also leans over the low wall of the parapet and takes in the view. "I've often sat at a bench over there"—he waves vaguely to his left—"and stopped to think after a meeting." You nod slowly. "I'm familiar with this route, too." Although your sporadic patrols almost never take you through the Sun Court, instead directing you through the more high-risk areas of Ashtown and Smoketown, the ones that did had you following a route that cuts right through this plaza. You've often paused to admire the view here yourself. "I can't believe these statues are still here!" Shery exclaims. "They're still exactly the same as they are in our time…" She's indicating the towering granite statues that line the wall of this terrace and the rest of the avenue as it follows these battlements all the way around the tier. The statues stand like silent, titanic sentinels, turning their gaze towards the towers of the Sun Court rather than down at the city below; they measure at least twice an average man's height. Many of them depict proud, armored knights, expressive historians and astronomers, serious robe-clad Mages, and other ancient personages you never stood a chance of recognizing. But even though you never paid much attention to them in specificity, you have to admit that Shery is right: they do look identical to the ones that exist in your version of Haven. Is it significant that these sculptures have withstood the test of time when the rest of these buildings won't…? Riel is looking around with a frown. "So," he says slowly, "where is the last trial? Where is the spellcraft we must pick apart?" Surprisingly, Mimir chimes in then. "It's there." She lifts a pale hand and points directly at an weathered-looking stone plinth that you might have mistaken for an empty birdbath, had you cared to notice it at all; it stands against the low parapet overlooking the city, positioned squarely between the statues of a faceless knight standing at parade rest with a broadsword and a spry-looking man gazing through a spyglass up at the sky. Huh. For some reason, you don't think you've ever taken note of that plinth being there at all… "I see the ghosts of us congregating most strongly in that area." You cautiously approach the plinth, finding its surface totally flat and blank. It's a gray, nondescript thing, looking simply like a short stone column that comes up to your chest, possibly intended to serve as the pedestal for some long-lost cherub sculpture or vase. "This?" "Use your magic to activate it," Mimir urges calmly. "Even only a spark will do." You frown, but with the barest thought, you <i>will</i> your magic outwards, pushing it towards the plinth… and then gasp when it suddenly bursts into life. <<page_break "Next" "thirdtrial_spell">>

Immediately, a thousand glowing sigils and glyphs explode out of the plinth's surface, swarming and whirling around you in a dizzying display that resembles a drifting vortex of silver-blue fireflies. The glow is not dissimilar to what you saw at the luminary in the Bleakmoor, or the chamber that housed it… but beyond that, it looks so overwhelming and alien that you almost want to faint. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"What <i>is</i> this?"</div>' 'thirdtrial_explanation'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Oh $god. What did I do?"</div>' 'thirdtrial_explanation'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Make it stop!"</div>' 'thirdtrial_explanation'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Riel, Shery, and Chandry only look at you blankly, seeming utterly baffled as you and Mimir both back away from the plinth; the cloud of floating sigils moves with you in a silent twisting spiral. "Um… nothing happened," Shery says, not batting at an eye as a glowing glyph drifts lazily over her face. "You can't see it," you breathe. Of course—they don't have the magical Sight that you or Mimir do. You glance hopelessly at the dizzying array of runes and say to Mimir, "This is the spell we're supposed to decipher?" When you try to grope for the sigils with your magic, probing for any kind of sense of what they do or what they mean, you feel nothing. Magister Alzear was right: this is a magic that you haven't encountered before, and it's layered with so many cryptic, labyrinthine corridors of power that you don't even know where to start. There's no chance you could untangle this spell's meaning in only one hour—it's possibly a thousand times more powerful and complex than the spells protecting the Shepherds' Tower, and that would have taken you weeks! "Well, wait, what are you seeing?" Shery asks, looking anxious at the expression on your face. "Maybe if you could describe it to us, we could help?" As you do so, <<nobr>><<if ((((($arcane >= 70) and ($magic >= 70)) or (($arcane >= 60) and ($specialization is "binder"))) or ((($arcane >= 65) and ($specialization is "conjurer")) or (($arcane >= 65) and ($specialization is "shifter")))))>> you feel your heartrate slowing as you almost talk <i>yourself</i> through what you can discern about the spell, which continues to circle all around you like an infinitely-unraveling scroll. <br><br> "Actually, now that I hear myself describe it, it makes me think that I may have read about something like this in some ancient text," you say thoughtfully. "Magister Alzear said that he was the head of charter magic at Saenreth, didn't he? Powerful spells in that school used a lot of—I suppose modern-day academics would call it <i>antiocenteisis</i>, or magic of the weaving: a cooperative form of arcane magic that could be done by hundreds if not thousands of casters, all tapping into a primordial, overarching force or energy, filtering and sublimating it through themselves as magic, and then working the threads of that power into the greater spell. It's a bit like what we did with the group working for the opening ceremony of the Crystal Tournament, except the structure, layers, and powers involved are different." You think more on it, stroking your chin as you watch the glyphs dart back and forth. "With that many casters at work, there had to be a—a centerpiece, a common focus point, a kind of keystone that they were all focused on, in order to ensure clarity and cohesion during so great a working. Otherwise all of the strands of power would never have coalesced into a single, complete spell. If we can find that single point, that keystone that locks the whole thing together, it could serve as the master key to understand the rest of the spell. I think it was once referred to as a cypher." <br><br> Shery looks helplessly at the swirling curtain of glyphs she can't see. "But how on earth could you find the one cypher amidst thousands of sigils?" <<include "thirdtrial_help_choices">> <<else>> the others listen intently, though it's Shery who says, "It sounds like something I read in one of the books I found in the Vaults." <br><br> You immediately all perk up and turn to her. "Go on." <br><br> Shery colors under your regard, but says steadily enough, "W-well, I was glancing through an old text, the way I always do to see if it can be restored and made of use in our library. And before I knew it, I found myself totally engrossed… I'm not sure who the book's writer was, but they spoke of a spell filled with thousands of swirling glyphs, just like you described… they called it an 'infinite library,' I think, a composition of the work and knowledge of hundreds or thousands of Mages pouring their magic together to create one immense spell. But in order to have that many casters working together, there has to be a, um, a centerpiece, or something like that, a kind of cornerstone that the whole thing is built on… otherwise everyone will be thinking of different things, and the spell won't… congeal together, if that makes any sense? It's some sort of common element, the thing that binds it all together… like a key! Everyone had to be concentrating on the same thing to build the spell, so if you find the 'one thing'—the key—and work backwards, I think that means you could… unlock the greater working, too?" Her expression suddenly brightens. "I think they called it a cypher!" <br><br> "But how on earth are you supposed to find this cypher among thousands of symbols?" Chandry asks. <<include "thirdtrial_help_choices">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Turn to Riel. "Riel?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686117'>><<setriel +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Turn to Mimir. "Mimir?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686118'>><<setmimir +5>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Riel frowns. "Well," he says slowly, "presumably, each rune or glyph represents a letter or a word, or perhaps a concept if things are really complicated. It's not in any Mage script you recognize?" You shake your head. "None." He hums to himself in thought. "If I were to view this as a type of code," he says pensively, "I would first isolate the most common symbols and start there. If we can discern any commonality, and from there trace a vowel, a theme, a mathematical pattern… that will get us one step closer to cracking the code." Mimir steps forward then. "Can you make it still?" she inquires politely. <<include 'thirdtrial_mimir_help'>>

She blinks slowly, impassively gazing up at the dancing display of symbols. "Can you make it still?" she inquires politely. <<include 'thirdtrial_mimir_help'>>

You wave your hand and press <i>down</i> with your magic, exerting the force of your willpower onto the dancing display of symbols until they slow heavily, then finally come to a frozen halt. Mimir watches them for a long moment, her silver eyes glowing in the ethereal, tealish light, before she slowly steps forward and raises her hand, almost as if she's pantomiming or mimicking the movements of the phantoms that only she can see. Haltingly, but with increasing certainty, she points at five separate symbols floating in the suspended cascade in the air. "I see the visions of us—of you, in particularly—pointing at these five runes, over and over, in the same unending reel." <<nobr>><<if settings.theme is "Scholar" or settings.theme is "Bard">><center><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/codex/codeword.png" alt="Five runes or symbols are shown. The first resembles a sideways spade, the second an ornate letter 'm', the third consists of four strokes and a dot, the fourth resembles a fountain, and the last resembles a tulip."></center> <<elseif settings.theme is "Soldier" or settings.theme is "Royal">><center><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/codex/codeword.png" style="filter: invert(100%);" alt="Five runes or symbols are shown. The first resembles a sideways spade, the second an ornate letter 'm', the third consists of four strokes and a dot, the fourth resembles a fountain, and the last resembles a tulip."></center> <<else>><center><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/codex/codeword.png" style="filter: invert(100%);" alt="Five runes or symbols are shown. The first resembles a sideways spade, the second an ornate letter 'm', the third consists of four strokes and a dot, the fourth resembles a fountain, and the last resembles a tulip."></center> <</if>><</nobr>> <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Shake her enthusiastically by the shoulder. "That's incredible, Mimir!"</div>' 'autogenerated_686119'>><<setmimir +5>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Question her. "Are you sure it's these specific symbols? Can you see them clearly in your vision, or are you just watching us point to particular spaces in the air?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686120'>><<setmimir -5>><<setintelligence +3>><<setcharisma -3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Get right to business. "Nice work. Now, what could they mean?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686121'>><<setloyal -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Stare blankly. "Er... what do they mean?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686122'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

She doesn't quite smile, but you think you sense a lightening in the air around her. "I am glad I could help," she intones. <<include 'thirdtrial_next_steps'>>

Mimir tilts her head to the side, looking at you almost listlessly. "They are the correct ones," she says. <<include 'thirdtrial_next_steps'>>

"I do not know," Mimir admits. "I only see multiple visions of us selecting these particular ones." <<include 'thirdtrial_next_steps'>>

<<nobr>><<set $firstletter to false, $secondletter to false, $thirdletter to false, $timer to 3, $didone to false>><</nobr>>Then she adds, "But keep in mind that these are likely not in the correct order. I can only see us selecting them, but it's not clear to me which ones we select first, or which came before or after or last." "Well, it's certainly a promising start regardless," Riel says briskly once you scribble down the symbols you're seeing into his pocketbook for the rest of the team to see. "Assuming that these sigils are letters that form a single word—and I think it's a strong possibility, given it had to be a specific and simple enough concept for all the casters of the spell to hinge their concentration on, and nothing as complex or subjective as a <i>phrase</i> or an <i>idea</i>—then there can only be…" He thinks on it a moment. "…one-hundred and twenty possible combinations that these sigils can form." Chandry gives a cry of dismay. "But we only have an hour!" "No, this is good!" Shery exclaims. "One-hundred twenty combinations instead of thousands or even millions… and there are five of us! We can do it!" "Now we just need to see if there's some way to make sense of them somehow," you say. "If it's a word that we know in Common, perhaps there's something that would help us translate these sigils into their equivalent letters. Let's look around for any clues." As your team breaks up and spreads out to search around the plaza, you decide to… <<include "searcharoundtheplaza">>

<<nobr>><<if $timer <= 0>> <br> <<include "timerdone">> <<else>> <<include "thesearchchoice">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("usewildmagic") and ($didone is false) and ((($specialization is "wild") and ($psionic >= 50)) or (($magic >= 70) and ($psionic >= 80)))>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Use your Wild Magic to recruit the local pigeons to help broaden your search area.</div>' 'usewildmagic'>><<set $timer -= 1>><<setpsionic +5>><<setmagic +3>><<set $didone to true>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($specialization is not "wild" or $psionic lt 50) and ($magic lt 70 or $psionic lt 80)>><div class="inactive-item">Use your Wild Magic to recruit the local pigeons to help broaden your search area.</div><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("usebindingknowledge") and ($didone is false) and ((($specialization is "binder") and ($arcane >= 50)) or (($arcane >= 70) and ($magic >= 70)))>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Use your knowledge of Binding to hunt for hidden messages around the plaza.</div>' 'usebindingknowledge'>><<set $timer -= 1>><<setarcane +5>><<setmagic +3>><<set $didone to true>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($specialization is not "binder" or $arcane lt 50) and ($magic lt 70 or $psionic lt 80)>><div class="inactive-item">Use your knowledge of Binding to hunt for hidden messages around the plaza.</div><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("checkinwithriel")>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Check in with Riel.</div>' 'checkinwithriel'>><<set $timer -= 1>><<set $secondletter to true>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("checkinwithshery")>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Check in with Shery.</div>' 'checkinwithshery'>><<set $timer -= 1>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("checkinwithmimir")>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Check in with Mimir.</div>' 'checkinwithmimir'>><<set $timer -= 1>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("checkinwithchandry")>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Check in with Chandry.</div>' 'checkinwithchandry'>><<set $timer -= 1>><</link>><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

Contrary to what most people would believe, pigeons are actually extraordinarily clever, if easily distracted, and possess an acute visual memory. With just a tendril of your magic, you call down a group roosting in the eaves a nearby circular building, asking them for help in searching for any clues about the spell and projecting a vision of the glowing sigils into their minds. Your timing is lucky: it's just after the midmorning bell, and the pigeons have recently fed on a bakery's leftover pastries and are full, lazily warm, and feeling magnanimous, agreeing amongst themselves that your request sounds "interesting." They take off in a flutter of expressive coos and clucks, and shortly thereafter, Rockwing, the leader of the flock and a grand old bird with an iridescent gray collar, calls back mentally and informs you that they've found something. He projects back an image of what looks to be a weather vane on top of a high, soaring white tower… and the golden symbol attached to it exactly matches one of the ones in the cypher! <<nobr>><<if settings.theme is "Scholar" or settings.theme is "Bard">><center><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/codex/g.png" alt="This symbol resembles a sideways spade."></center> <<elseif settings.theme is "Soldier" or settings.theme is "Royal">><center><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/codex/g.png" style="filter: invert(100%);" alt="This symbol resembles a sideways spade."></center> <<else>><center><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/codex/g.png" style="filter: invert(100%);" alt="This symbol resembles a sideways spade."></center><</if>><</nobr>> You feel a spark of excitement and make an effort to tamp it down. <i>What building is that?</i> you ask Rockwing. You feel the slight tinge of his incredulity. <i>We do not know</i>, he responds loftily. <i>The robed people who go in and out of it look the same as anyone else.</i> <i>Though sometimes they're levitating bags full of shiny yellow things</i>, a younger pigeon pipes in—this one is barely older than a squab. <i>Nothing we can eat, though.</i> <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Ask the pigeons to fly down to the base of the tower.</div>' 'autogenerated_686123'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Ask the pigeons to fly through an open window of the tower.</div>' 'autogenerated_686124'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Ask the young pigeon to describe the 'shiny yellow things.'</div>' 'autogenerated_686125'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

They obey instantly, swooping down in a twisting spiral towards the base of the building. They land on the warm white cobblestones at its base, craning their necks as you peer out through Rockwing's eyes. You can't see anything particularly special about this building—particularly nothing to do with ancient sigils or glyphs—but you do espy a large gold plaque proudly announcing this building as the Treasury of Magus. Could that have something to do with the large gold weather vane resting at its top? <<include 'usewildmagic2'>>

Rockwing instantly resists this request, knowing enough to be wary of entering human homes without warning, but after some heavy persuasion and cajoling, he reluctantly agrees to find an open window while the flock waits outside. It takes him only moments to drift down onto a high ledge and peer his long neck through its open casement. Then, finding the room inside empty, he warily hops past gauzy white curtains and onto the room's lone desk, sending a few scattered papers drifting to the floor. The room seems to be an office, perhaps of a government official or politician, furnished with the rich and sumptuous fixtures of the time. You talk Rockwing into hopping around on the desk until he can peer at its nameplate; it reads, EVAXIUS INNAVYS - JUNIOR OFFICER OF THE TREASURY. Rockwing can't fathom why you would want to look at the sheets of paper beneath his feet, the black symbols on them making no more sense to him than the designs on the rug, but you ask him to do so and politely wait while he shifts around. Whoever normally sits at this desk seems to have a penchant for idle doodling, scratching out pithy little comments or drawings to himself in the margins of his paperwork, presumably because he has a lot of downtime. He also seems to be a fan of riddles, because you find one such riddle scribbled on a sheet of paper: along with cross-hatched doodles of more glyphs sketched out directly underneath! <center><span class="song"><i>The circlet that adorns a lord,</i> <i>Deucalions and dinars in a hoard,</i> <i>A finch, a fish, a lion's mane,</i> <i>The alchemist does seek in vain,</i> <i>The rising sun's first warming rays</i> <i>A kindly rule from olden days</i></span></center> <<nobr>><<if settings.theme is "Scholar" or settings.theme is "Bard">><center><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/codex/gold.png" alt="The image contains four symbols. The first is the same sideways spade symbol that is the weathervane at the top of the building and is also the first symbol of the cypher. The second is a circular spiral symbol. The third resembles a pedestal with three dots on top of it. The four resembles a right-facing arrow."></center> <<elseif settings.theme is "Soldier" or settings.theme is "Royal">><center><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/codex/gold.png" style="filter: invert(100%);" alt="The image contains four symbols. The first is the same sideways spade symbol that is the weathervane at the top of the building and is also the first symbol of the cypher. The second is a circular spiral symbol. The third resembles a pedestal with three dots on top of it. The four resembles a right-facing arrow."></center> <<else>><center><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/codex/gold.png" style="filter: invert(100%);" alt="The image contains four symbols. The first is the same sideways spade symbol that is the weathervane at the top of the building and is also the first symbol of the cypher. The second is a circular spiral symbol. The third resembles a pedestal with three dots on top of it. The four resembles a right-facing arrow."></center><</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'solvegoldriddle'>>

<i>Well</i>, she says animatedly, excited to be involved, <i>they look like the round things the baker feeds us sometimes. Biscuits? Only they're flat and hard and cold, and very shiny, and they flash like they're hot when the sun hits them.</i> Could she be talking about gold? <<include 'usewildmagic2'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $intelligence >= 30>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Gold!</div>' 'autogenerated_686126'>><<setintelligence +1>><<set $firstletter to true>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Warmth!</div>' 'autogenerated_686127'>><<setintelligence -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Cold!</div>' 'autogenerated_686128'>><<setintelligence -3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Dragon!</div>' 'autogenerated_686129'>><<setintelligence -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Fire!</div>' 'autogenerated_686130'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Air!</div>' 'autogenerated_686131'>><<setintelligence -1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if settings.theme is "Scholar" or settings.theme is "Bard">><center><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/codex/gold.png" alt="The image contains four symbols. The first is the same sideways spade symbol that is the weathervane at the top of the building and is also the first symbol of the cypher. The second is a circular spiral symbol. The third resembles a pedestal with three dots on top of it. The four resembles a right-facing arrow."></center> <<elseif settings.theme is "Soldier" or settings.theme is "Royal">><center><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/codex/gold.png" style="filter: invert(100%);" alt="The image contains four symbols. The first is the same sideways spade symbol that is the weathervane at the top of the building and is also the first symbol of the cypher. The second is a circular spiral symbol. The third resembles a pedestal with three dots on top of it. The four resembles a right-facing arrow."></center> <<else>><center><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/codex/gold.png" style="filter: invert(100%);" alt="The image contains four symbols. The first is the same sideways spade symbol that is the weathervane at the top of the building and is also the first symbol of the cypher. The second is a circular spiral symbol. The third resembles a pedestal with three dots on top of it. The four resembles a right-facing arrow."></center><</if>><</nobr>> <center>G O L D</center> Which would make that first sigil a 'G'! <<nobr>><<if settings.theme is "Scholar" or settings.theme is "Bard">><center><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/codex/codeword.png" alt="Five runes or symbols are shown. The first resembles a sideways spade, the second an ornate letter 'm', the third consists of four strokes and a dot, the fourth resembles a fountain, and the last resembles a tulip."></center> <<elseif settings.theme is "Soldier" or settings.theme is "Royal">><center><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/codex/codeword.png" style="filter: invert(100%);" alt="Five runes or symbols are shown. The first resembles a sideways spade, the second an ornate letter 'm', the third consists of four strokes and a dot, the fourth resembles a fountain, and the last resembles a tulip."></center> <<else>><center><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/codex/codeword.png" style="filter: invert(100%);" alt="Five runes or symbols are shown. The first resembles a sideways spade, the second an ornate letter 'm', the third consists of four strokes and a dot, the fourth resembles a fountain, and the last resembles a tulip."></center> <</if>><</nobr>> The first sigil in your encrypted code, then, seems to be a 'G'! Before you can think on it any further, however, there's the sound of an approaching step in the hallway outside of the office door. Rockwing gives a crow of alarm and flutters out the window before he can be discovered. <<include 'usewildmagic2'>>

But somehow, that doesn't seem right… and if the symbols at the bottom of the page correspond with letters, "warmth" wouldn't work, as there are only four symbols and not six! Before you can think on it any further, however, there's the sound of an approaching step in the hallway outside of the office door. Rockwing gives a crow of alarm and flutters out the window before he can be discovered. <<include 'usewildmagic2'>>

But somehow, that doesn't seem quite right… Before you can think on it any further, however, there's the sound of an approaching step in the hallway outside of the office door. Rockwing gives a crow of alarm and flutters out the window before he can be discovered. <<include 'usewildmagic2'>>

But somehow, that doesn't seem right, and if the symbols at the bottom of the page correspond with letters, "dragon" wouldn't work, as there are only four symbols and not six! Before you can think on it any further, however, there's the sound of an approaching step in the hallway outside of the office door. Rockwing gives a crow of alarm and flutters out the window before he can be discovered. <<include 'usewildmagic2'>>

But somehow, that doesn't seem quite right… you need something with four letters, not three! Before you can think on it any further, however, there's the sound of an approaching step in the hallway outside of the office door. Rockwing gives a crow of alarm and flutters out the window before he can be discovered. <<include 'usewildmagic2'>>

Shortly thereafter, the pigeons thank you for approaching them with such an interesting task, but they excuse themselves, as it has now reached the hour to head towards one the city's calmer canals and take a quick morning bath. Thanking them in turn, you leave them to their business and withdraw your mental link from their flock, returning your attention to the plaza. <<include "searcharoundtheplaza">>

You've noticed throughout your tenure as a Shepherd that there are sometimes hidden secrets around Haven—no surprise for a capitol founded by Mages—sometimes as innocuous as dead, inert spells inscribed into ancient doorways, or the faint glimmerings of a protective rune still imbued with just the barest hint of magic, while other times you can stumble across legitimate magical constructs and hidey-holes. If you use your arcane senses—attuned to the soft, flat hum of Binding magic—to scan the area around you, you might just uncover something useful. It takes effort and concentration, but eventually you pick up on something beneath the currents of everyday life: it's a distant, almost tinkling chime, almost completely unnoticeable under the sounds of the morning breeze, the flapping of the government pennants above you and the ambient buzz of the city below. You follow the direction of the chime—half sound, half mental vibration—until you round a corner and find yourself following a narrow, concealed alleyway leading towards a private garden courtyard. It looks like somewhere government officials might meet and have lunch outdoors. It's there, on a low corner of the courtyard wall, that you feel the faint hum of a concealment spell, so old and worn that it's almost completely faded away. From the sloppiness of the spell's technique, you'd guess that the caster was a child, scribbling practice spellmarks on a wall in the same way others might play games or draw figures in charcoal or chalk. You break concealment spell, revealing a few luminous, glinting words in a child's scrawl… along with a row of the very same sigils you've been looking for! <i>I make the earth a fool</i> <i>But earth makes a fool of me.</i> <i>I'm molded by hands</i> <i>But I mold history.</i> <i>I'm in the heart of eggs.</i> <i>I'm in the heart of kings.</i> <i>I sometimes fill your smiles</i> <i>And sometimes smiles, bring.</i> <<nobr>><<if settings.theme is "Scholar" or settings.theme is "Bard">><center><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/codex/gold.png" alt="The image contains four symbols. The first is the same sideways spade symbol that is the weathervane at the top of the building and is also the first symbol of the cypher. The second is a circular spiral symbol. The third resembles a pedestal with three dots on top of it. The four resembles a right-facing arrow."></center> <<elseif settings.theme is "Soldier" or settings.theme is "Royal">><center><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/codex/gold.png" style="filter: invert(100%);" alt="The image contains four symbols. The first is the same sideways spade symbol that is the weathervane at the top of the building and is also the first symbol of the cypher. The second is a circular spiral symbol. The third resembles a pedestal with three dots on top of it. The four resembles a right-facing arrow."></center> <<else>><center><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/codex/gold.png" style="filter: invert(100%);" alt="The image contains four symbols. The first is the same sideways spade symbol that is the weathervane at the top of the building and is also the first symbol of the cypher. The second is a circular spiral symbol. The third resembles a pedestal with three dots on top of it. The four resembles a right-facing arrow."></center><</if>><</nobr>> <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $intelligence >= 30>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Gold!</div>' 'autogenerated_686132'>><<setintelligence +1>><<setgold +1>><<set $firstletter to true>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Egg!</div>' 'autogenerated_686133'>><<setintelligence -2>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Mold!</div>' 'autogenerated_686134'>><<setintelligence -3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Silver!</div>' 'autogenerated_686135'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Yellow!</div>' 'autogenerated_686136'>><<setintelligence -3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<notify_gold "+1 Gold">><<if settings.theme is "Scholar" or settings.theme is "Bard">><center><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/codex/gold.png" alt="The image contains four symbols. The first is the same sideways spade symbol that is the weathervane at the top of the building and is also the first symbol of the cypher. The second is a circular spiral symbol. The third resembles a pedestal with three dots on top of it. The four resembles a right-facing arrow."></center> <<elseif settings.theme is "Soldier" or settings.theme is "Royal">><center><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/codex/gold.png" style="filter: invert(100%);" alt="The image contains four symbols. The first is the same sideways spade symbol that is the weathervane at the top of the building and is also the first symbol of the cypher. The second is a circular spiral symbol. The third resembles a pedestal with three dots on top of it. The four resembles a right-facing arrow."></center> <<else>><center><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/codex/gold.png" style="filter: invert(100%);" alt="The image contains four symbols. The first is the same sideways spade symbol that is the weathervane at the top of the building and is also the first symbol of the cypher. The second is a circular spiral symbol. The third resembles a pedestal with three dots on top of it. The four resembles a right-facing arrow."></center><</if>><</nobr>> <center>G O L D</center> Which would make that first sigil… a 'G'! Making the first sigil in your own cypher a 'G', as well! <<nobr>><<if settings.theme is "Scholar" or settings.theme is "Bard">><center><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/codex/codeword.png" alt="Five runes or symbols are shown. The first resembles a sideways spade, the second an ornate letter 'm', the third consists of four strokes and a dot, the fourth resembles a fountain, and the last resembles a tulip."></center> <<elseif settings.theme is "Soldier" or settings.theme is "Royal">><center><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/codex/codeword.png" style="filter: invert(100%);" alt="Five runes or symbols are shown. The first resembles a sideways spade, the second an ornate letter 'm', the third consists of four strokes and a dot, the fourth resembles a fountain, and the last resembles a tulip."></center> <<else>><center><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/codex/codeword.png" style="filter: invert(100%);" alt="Five runes or symbols are shown. The first resembles a sideways spade, the second an ornate letter 'm', the third consists of four strokes and a dot, the fourth resembles a fountain, and the last resembles a tulip."></center> <</if>><</nobr>> And to your surprise, when you say the word out loud, the glowing message suddenly brightens in intensity… and then spits out a single gold coin, plunking it at your feet with an unceremonious <i>clink</i> before disappearing altogether, the spell's energy finally expended. You suppress a smile as you pocket the ancient, rubbed-smooth deucalion. No doubt that whichever Mage child wrote this message also used the spell to squirrel away their pilfered coin, perhaps hoping to come back and reclaim it, or leaving it for whoever decided to indulge their game. It's actually a pretty impressive working, for one so young. Satisfied at uncovering one of the sigils, you return your attention back to the plaza. <<include "searcharoundtheplaza">> <<include ''>>

No, that doesn't make any sense… <<include 'usebindingknowledge2'>>

But if the symbols at the bottom are supposed to represent letters, that would be too many… <<include 'usebindingknowledge2'>>

No, that doesn't make any sense… <<include 'usebindingknowledge2'>>

You think on it for a while longer, but find yourself utterly stumped. Eventually, you give up and return to the plaza. <<include "searcharoundtheplaza">>

You find Riel staring intently up at the enormous statue of the explorer with the spyglass. The statue of the adventurer (scholar? astronomer?) beams with an exaggerated expression of exploratory curiosity, looking immensely excited to be alive and able to study the heavens to his heart's content. Riel glances at you briefly and remarks, "Not much time left." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Do you think we can crack the code in time?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686137'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Not one for morale boosting, are you?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686138'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"It's all right. Even if we fail this trial, we may have scored enough points in the others to scrape through."</div>' 'autogenerated_686139'>><<setriel -2>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"So why are you wasting it staring at this ugly bastard?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686140'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You're so sexy when you're being dire." <b>[FLIRT]</b></div>' 'autogenerated_686141'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"We can do it. And then we can get home and finally have a bath."</div>' 'autogenerated_686142'>><<setriel +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

He nods curtly, all business, before pointing at the plaque engraved at the statue's base. <<include 'rielplaque'>>

<<nobr>><<if $charisma >= 55>> <<setriel +1>> <</if>><</nobr>> A thin smile briefly flickers over Riel's face before he points at the plaque engraved at the statue's base. <<include 'rielplaque'>>

Riel frowns, clearly looking displeased by this possibility, before he points at the plaque engraved at the statue's base. <<include 'rielplaque'>>

<<nobr>><<if ($rielromanceflag >= 20) and ($charisma >= 55)>> <<set $rielromanceflag += 1>> <<setcharisma +1>> <</if>><</nobr>> A thin smile briefly flickers over Riel's face before he points at the plaque engraved at the statue's base. <<include 'rielplaque'>>

<<nobr>><<if ($rielromanceflag >= 20) and ($charisma >= 55)>> <<set $rielromanceflag += 1>> <<setcharisma +1>> <</if>><</nobr>> Riel snorts lightly, a thin smile briefly flickering over his face, before he points at the plaque engraved at the statue's base. <<include 'rielplaque'>>

Riel nods curtly, looking briefly sullen as he agrees, "This might be the longest I've gone without creature comforts in a while. I can't say I envy you field officers, even after this relatively 'easy' mission. Well, discounting the traipsing through the woods being hunted by blood-thirsty Tainted… and then spending the night locked in a hot and sweaty chamber, trying not to succumb to alcohol poisoning or the revelry of idiots." Then, reverting back to business, he points at the plaque engraved at the statue's base. <<include 'rielplaque'>>

<<nobr>><<if settings.theme is "Scholar" or settings.theme is "Bard">><center><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/codex/atonaxew.png" alt="The image shows two sets of runes, each set containing four runes each. The first rune in both sets is the same as the second symbol in the cypher, the one that resembles an ornate and archaic 'M'. Therefore, the first letter in this plaque's words will be the second letter in the cypher."></center> <<elseif settings.theme is "Soldier" or settings.theme is "Royal">><center><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/codex/atonaxew.png" style="filter: invert(100%);" alt="The image shows two sets of runes, each set containing four runes each. The first rune in both sets is the same as the second symbol in the cypher, the one that resembles an ornate and archaic 'M'. Therefore, the first letter in this plaque's words will be the second letter in the cypher."></center> <<else>><center><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/codex/atonaxew.png" style="filter: invert(100%);" alt="The image shows two sets of runes, each set containing four runes each. The first rune in both sets is the same as the second symbol in the cypher, the one that resembles an ornate and archaic 'M'. Therefore, the first letter in this plaque's words will be the second letter in the cypher."></center><</if>><</nobr>> "I've read this plaque before," he says. "In our time. Specifically because I found the expression on this statue annoying—vapidly excited, almost bovine-like, more like a clown than a scholar…" His voice thins slightly as he seems to realize what he's saying, but forges on: "But in our time, the words are written in Common, not in these glyphs." You pull out the notepad with your cypher written on it and feel a spark of excitement. <<nobr>><<if settings.theme is "Scholar" or settings.theme is "Bard">><center><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/codex/codeword.png" alt="Five runes or symbols are shown. The first resembles a sideways spade, the second an ornate letter 'm', the third consists of four strokes and a dot, the fourth resembles a fountain, and the last resembles a tulip."></center> <<elseif settings.theme is "Soldier" or settings.theme is "Royal">><center><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/codex/codeword.png" style="filter: invert(100%);" alt="Five runes or symbols are shown. The first resembles a sideways spade, the second an ornate letter 'm', the third consists of four strokes and a dot, the fourth resembles a fountain, and the last resembles a tulip."></center> <<else>><center><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/codex/codeword.png" style="filter: invert(100%);" alt="Five runes or symbols are shown. The first resembles a sideways spade, the second an ornate letter 'm', the third consists of four strokes and a dot, the fourth resembles a fountain, and the last resembles a tulip."></center> <</if>><</nobr>> "The first glyph on this statue matches the second one in the cypher," you say. "Do you remember what the plaque said in Common?" Riel nods slowly. "I've been trying to remember," he says. "And combing through my memory to ensure that my guess is accurate. I'm fairly certain it was Aton Axew." He frowns thoughtfully up at the statue. "The explorer's name, I would guess." You write down the name in the notepad in Common, holding it up underneath the sigils on the statue to compare them. <<nobr>><<if settings.theme is "Scholar" or settings.theme is "Bard">><center><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/codex/atonaxew.png" alt="The image shows two sets of runes, each set containing four runes each. The first rune in both sets is the same as the second symbol in the cypher, the one that resembles an ornate and archaic 'M'. Therefore, the first letter in this plaque's words will be the second letter in the cypher."></center> <<elseif settings.theme is "Soldier" or settings.theme is "Royal">><center><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/codex/atonaxew.png" style="filter: invert(100%);" alt="The image shows two sets of runes, each set containing four runes each. The first rune in both sets is the same as the second symbol in the cypher, the one that resembles an ornate and archaic 'M'. Therefore, the first letter in this plaque's words will be the second letter in the cypher."></center> <<else>><center><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/codex/atonaxew.png" style="filter: invert(100%);" alt="The image shows two sets of runes, each set containing four runes each. The first rune in both sets is the same as the second symbol in the cypher, the one that resembles an ornate and archaic 'M'. Therefore, the first letter in this plaque's words will be the second letter in the cypher."></center><</if>><</nobr>> <center>ATON AXEW</center> Which would make that second letter in your cypher… an 'A'! "And it would also make the <i>other</i> four letters in the cypher not a 'T', an 'O', an 'N', an 'X', an 'E', or a 'W'," Riel mutters, almost as if talking to himself. "Assuming the cypher is a five-letter word that exists in our vocabulary, that <i>vastly</i> narrows down the possibilities. In fact, now I can begin slotting in other letters into the other spaces to see if we can glean anything else…" He takes the notepad back and begins to scribble furiously, completely oblivious to your congratulations or even your continued presence. Wisely, you decide to leave him to it and turn your attention back to the plaza. <<include "searcharoundtheplaza">>

You find Shery staring a bit blankly up at the statue of the armored knight, who towers over you looking grave and expressionless, solemnly clasping the hilt of a huge broadsword in their hands as they stand at parade rest. She turns and gives you a brief smile of acknowledgment before pointing at the statue's plaque. "This plaque here seems to sport the same sigils that you and Mimir saw," she says. And so it does. "Perhaps it was a Mage script from so long ago that our time has forgotten about it completely?" "I suppose it's possible," you say doubtfully, though you never came across mention of any such script in your studies: the typical ancient Mage tongues were Magid and Mizunh, and those existed thousands upon thousands of years ago. You didn't know that there was anything older than those… or that Magus would have any trace of it. In your timeline, these glyphs have been replaced by Common. "Do any of the sigils on the plaque match the ones in the cypher?" Shery nods and points it out. "Just one." <<nobr>><<if settings.theme is "Scholar" or settings.theme is "Bard">><center><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/codex/merthewidow.png" alt="The image shows a set of eleven runes separated into three words. The first word has three runes, the second word also consists of three, and the last word consists of five. The first rune of the first word matches the third rune of your cypher, the one resembling four strokes and a dot. Therefore, the first letter of this plaque's message must also be the third letter of the cypher."></center> <<elseif settings.theme is "Soldier" or settings.theme is "Royal">><center><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/codex/merthewidow.png" style="filter: invert(100%);" alt="The image shows a set of eleven runes separated into three words. The first word has three runes, the second word also consists of three, and the last word consists of five. The first rune of the first word matches the third rune of your cypher, the one resembling four strokes and a dot. Therefore, the first letter of this plaque's message must also be the third letter of the cypher."></center> <<else>><center><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/codex/merthewidow.png" style="filter: invert(100%);" alt="The image shows a set of eleven runes separated into three words. The first word has three runes, the second word also consists of three, and the last word consists of five. The first rune of the first word matches the third rune of your cypher, the one resembling four strokes and a dot. Therefore, the first letter of this plaque's message must also be the third letter of the cypher."></center><</if>><</nobr>> "That first rune on the plaque is the third one in our cypher, I believe," Shery says. You nod, sketching it out magically in the air so you can both visualize it. <<nobr>><<if settings.theme is "Scholar" or settings.theme is "Bard">><center><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/codex/codeword.png" alt="Five runes or symbols are shown. The first resembles a sideways spade, the second an ornate letter 'm', the third consists of four strokes and a dot, the fourth resembles a fountain, and the last resembles a tulip."></center> <<elseif settings.theme is "Soldier" or settings.theme is "Royal">><center><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/codex/codeword.png" style="filter: invert(100%);" alt="Five runes or symbols are shown. The first resembles a sideways spade, the second an ornate letter 'm', the third consists of four strokes and a dot, the fourth resembles a fountain, and the last resembles a tulip."></center> <<else>><center><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/codex/codeword.png" style="filter: invert(100%);" alt="Five runes or symbols are shown. The first resembles a sideways spade, the second an ornate letter 'm', the third consists of four strokes and a dot, the fourth resembles a fountain, and the last resembles a tulip."></center> <</if>><</nobr>> "Great work," you say. "So, all we need to do is figure out what this plaque says, and we can figure out what the third rune in our cypher means. Do you know who this statue depicts?" She shakes her head. "I rarely ever venture to the Sun Court," she admits. "Even when I was a child, I didn't dare. I'd always heard the other children in school talking about how the Vice Guard would hang famous criminals here, sometimes for the peoples' entertainment. It g-gave me nightmares, so I never came to this part of town. Little did I know that such activities were confined to the square in front of the Vice Guard garrison, and not in the nice, open plazas where the politicians and administrators roam." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $sherytime >= 1>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Isn't it interesting to think that you were borned and raised in this city, and there are still things about it that you're still finding out?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686143'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"What were you like as a child? Were you easily-frightened?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686144'>><<setshery +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Just imagining it gave you nightmares? That's so... sensitive."</div>' 'autogenerated_686145'>><<setshery -3>><<set $sheryromanceflag -= 1>><<setcompassionate -1>><<setcharisma -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I've seen those hangings. They are pretty gruesome."</div>' 'autogenerated_686146'>><<setcourage +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Shery actually laughs at that. "What about the Tower? We <i>live</i> there, and we certainly weren't expecting to find something like <i>this</i>!" <<include 'sherynextpart'>>

"Oh, of course I was," Shery says breathlessly. "I don't think I'm very different as an adult… I didn't have many friends and was very sensitive, so I was always hiding behind my books… things in the real world seemed so much harsher in comparison, so much less safe, that I often found myself in retreat!" <<include 'sherynextpart'>>

She lowers her eyes, but replies primly, "I was a child, and children's imaginations can often be overactive…" <<include 'sherynextpart'>>

She shudders. "You won't ever catch me at one," she replies. "And now, with Enik Goldenson on the throne, I have even less reason to visit the Sun Court than I did before." <<nobr>><<if $sherytime >= 2>> <br><br> "But doesn't the fact that he worships the One-God so fervently please you?" you ask her. "It's better him than his heathen brother, right?" <br><br> But Shery shakes her head. "I'm not sure who would have been the better choice for the throne… but I do know that Enik Goldenson hurts the church of the One-God more than he helps it. The things he does in Xer name only causes more fracture in the world. I don't think it's what Xe would have wanted." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'sherynextpart'>>

Then the two of you turn back to the statue, and the problem at hand. "How are we supposed to figure out this statue's name?" you ask. Shery tugs absently on a hunk of her blonde hair in thought. "I already asked Riel and Chandry," she says, "and they don't know. Perhaps you could scan the statue with your magic? You might uncover something the rest of us can't see, as with the plinth." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if ($specialization is "diviner") or ($psionic >= 60)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Use your Divination skills to peer into the past and see if you can glean anything about the statue's history.</div>' 'sheryspiritstatue'>><<setpsionic +3>><<setmagic +2>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($specialization is not "diviner") and ($psionic < 60)>><div class="inactive-item">Use your Divination skills to peer into the past and see if you can glean anything about the statue's history.</div><</if>> <<if ($specialization is "binder") or ($arcane >= 60)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Use your Binding skills to scan the statue for arcane secrets.</div>' 'sheryspiritstatue'>><<setarcane +3>><<setmagic +2>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($specialization is not "binder") and ($arcane < 60)>><div class="inactive-item">Use your Binding skills to scan the statue for arcane secrets.</div><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Send a spark of your magic towards the statue to see if anything happens.</div>' 'sheryspiritstatue'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

However, the moment you open your magical senses, you feel the catch of something wholly unexpected and step back sharply. <i>No way</i>. Can it be…? Shery is looking at you with wide eyes. "What is it?" she asks you. You shake your head wonderingly, cautiously reaching your magic out again in an invisible, tentative probe. "I… I think there's a <i>spirit</i> in this statue," you say. "It's a very minor one, just a wisp of a thing, and it's been here for so long that it essentially sleeps for most of the time… but it's <i>there</i>. I'm going to coax it out." You grope around for the thread of something alive and intelligent within the statue, then gently <i>pull</i>. <<page_break "Next" "sheryspiritstatue2">>

A tiny, comically-high voice suddenly issues forth from the statue's head, even though the statue's graven features don't actually move. <<nobr>><<if $sherytime >= 2>> It's just like when Vivek yells at people back home. <</if>><</nobr>> "Who's there? <i>What do you want</i>?" You and Shery blink and exchange looks. Finally she calls softly, "Erm… my name is Shery Acquell. What's yours?" "Forgot," the spirit answers crabbily. "Been here so long that all my memories have gone up in smoke." "How did you get in there in the first place?" you ask. "Mistress stuck me in here and forgot about me," it replies, promptly proving its previous statement a falsehood. "I was being disobedient—not wanting to follow orders, mucking up her spells and forgetting tasks—that she followed through on a threat to stick me in her ancestor's statue and make me keep bird shit off of it for all eternity!" Shery's face lights up, and she glances at you as if to say, <i>Then surely it must know the name of this knight</i>! But her voice is suffused with sympathy as she says, "But you say she forgot to come back and release you?" "That's right," the spirit says indignantly, clearly warming up to the idea of having an empathetic audience. You think to yourself that Shery must be very practiced at dealing with spirits—she does, after all, have to get many of the spirits in the Tower to cooperate with her and her team to keep operations running smoothly. "Or worse, she died, and now I truly am stuck here forever!" "That's so sad," Shery says in a sweet, almost simpering tone. "What kind of spirit are you, anyway?" There's a brief, almost wary pause; but the spirit is probably starved of human interaction, so it replies, "Pride." "That's my favorite kind," Shery says warmly. "And at least your mistress did you the kindness of having you protect the memorial of such an illustrious personage. That's an honorable purpose! What was this knight's name, again? Valhyne Something?" "Mer the Widow," the spirit answers curtly. "Slayer of Banshees, Friend to the Giants, and Cleanest Statue in All of Magus Due to the Fact that I'm Stuck in Her, Polishing Off All the BIRD SHIT!" It abruptly goes dormant in a huff of ire and affront, and Shery turns to you with wide eyes before suddenly dissolving into a fit of giggles. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Laugh along with her. "Well done!"</div>' 'autogenerated_686147'>><<setshery +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Shake your head in wonder. "You played it like a fiddle."</div>' 'autogenerated_686148'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Sigh. "I almost feel bad for the poor thing."</div>' 'autogenerated_686149'>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $sheryromanceflag >= 20>> <<set $sheryromanceflag += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> "Thank you," she giggles, lifting her spectacles and wiping a tear of mirth from her eye. "I've gotten quite used to, um, prodding the spirits of the Tower into doing things. I've found that spirits of pride <i>love</i> to correct people, so if you just supply it with a wrong answer, it will always rush to give you the right one if it can." <<include 'sherymerthewidow'>>

"Thank you," she giggles, lifting her spectacles and wiping a tear of mirth from her eye. "I've gotten quite used to, um, prodding the spirits of the Tower into doing things. I've found that spirits of pride <i>love</i> to correct people, so if you just supply it with a wrong answer, it will always rush to give you the right one if it can." <<include 'sherymerthewidow'>>

Shery sobers a little, though she still needs to lift her spectacles and wipe a tear of mirth from her eye. "So do I," she admits, "though I doubt we have enough time to understand how to free it from its vessel—and I'm not sure the rules of the labyrinth would allow such a thing, anyway. But it was a great help to us, whether it knew it or not, so I hope it will be all right." <<include 'sherymerthewidow'>>

<<set $thirdletter to true>>You sketch out the letters in Common in order to compare them to the glyphs engraved into the statue's base. <<nobr>><<if settings.theme is "Scholar" or settings.theme is "Bard">><center><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/codex/merthewidow.png" alt="The image shows a set of eleven runes separated into three words. The first word has three runes, the second word also consists of three, and the last word consists of five. The first rune of the first word matches the third rune of your cypher, the one resembling four strokes and a dot. Therefore, the first letter of this plaque's message must also be the third letter of the cypher."></center> <<elseif settings.theme is "Soldier" or settings.theme is "Royal">><center><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/codex/merthewidow.png" style="filter: invert(100%);" alt="The image shows a set of eleven runes separated into three words. The first word has three runes, the second word also consists of three, and the last word consists of five. The first rune of the first word matches the third rune of your cypher, the one resembling four strokes and a dot. Therefore, the first letter of this plaque's message must also be the third letter of the cypher."></center> <<else>><center><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/codex/merthewidow.png" style="filter: invert(100%);" alt="The image shows a set of eleven runes separated into three words. The first word has three runes, the second word also consists of three, and the last word consists of five. The first rune of the first word matches the third rune of your cypher, the one resembling four strokes and a dot. Therefore, the first letter of this plaque's message must also be the third letter of the cypher."></center><</if>><</nobr>> <center>MER THE WIDOW</center> Which would make the third rune in your cypher an 'M'! Shery beams, clearly pleased to have helped you uncover the meaning behind one of the cypher's glyphs. "I'll look at the statues down the avenue to see if any other runes match," she says, hurrying off with an almost excited air. "I know that this is serious, but I do love puzzles!" While she does that, you turn to make your inspections around the plaza once more. <<include "searcharoundtheplaza">>

You find Mimir staring intently up at the sky, almost as if she's searching for tracings of the sigils up in the wispy clouds. It's a sweet, balmy, pearly kind of spring morning. "What are you doing?" you ask the Seer. "Admiring it," she answers simply. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I do love to look at the sky. Do you like cloud-watching or star-gazing more?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686150'>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setcharisma +1>><<setmimir +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Yeah, uh, it's... it's certainly a sky."</div>' 'autogenerated_686151'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"What, like the color of it? The clouds?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686152'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Did you find anything about the cypher?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686153'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"That was good work back there, figuring out the five sigils we needed to pinpoint."</div>' 'autogenerated_686154'>><<setmimir +2>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setloyal +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"Normally I never see the sky," she answers off-handedly. "Too many ghosts. But here, when it's just yours… It's not so crowded." "Will you be sad to go back?" you ask her. "No," she answers, still calm. "None of this is real." <<include 'mimirafterchoice'>>

"It's very convincing," is all she replies. <<include 'mimirafterchoice'>>

"All of it," she replies simply. "It looks very real." <<include 'mimirafterchoice'>>

She shakes her head. "I won't find anything. But it won't matter, anyway." <<include 'mimirafterchoice'>>

"Without you, I don't think we would have stood a chance at completing this trial," you add. Mimir smiles faintly. "You wouldn't have. That's why I came down to the Vaults to begin with." You turn to stare at her. "Wait, you knew all of that was going to happen? The cursed package, activating the simulacrum, entering the labyrinth… all of it?" She merely looks at you impassively. "There are infinite paths," is all she says, "and I have walked with you along many. And perhaps I will do so again in a different time, and perhaps those ones will not have a labyrinth, and perhaps we will simply walk together in the sun and admire the sky." You're not sure what to say to that, and it seems Mimir has nothing more to say, either. <<include 'mimirafterchoice'>>

You decide to leave her to her thoughts for now and search elsewhere in the plaza. <<include "searcharoundtheplaza">>

You walk over to where Chandry is earnestly searching underneath a stone-carved white bench, his colorful pantaloons wriggling expressively as he roots around with the enthusiasm of a child in a sandbox. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I think if there was a clue under there, you would have found it by now."</div>' 'autogenerated_686155'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"How is it going, Chandry?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686156'>><<setloyal +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Can I help you?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686157'>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"You think so, my Shepherd friend?" the clown cries. "Tell me: what do you make of <i>this</i>?" Without withdrawing his head from the bench, he thrusts out his gloved right hand, revealing… a lost button, a lapel pin, and an ancient coin. <<include 'chandryfounditems'>>

"Well in hand, my Shepherd friend, well in hand!" the clown cries. "Just look—perhaps this is something that could be of use?" Without withdrawing his head from the bench, he thrusts out his gloved right hand, revealing… a lost button, a lapel pin, and an ancient coin. <<include 'chandryfounditems'>>

"No, my Shepherd friend, I have this well in hand!" the clown cries. "And look—perhaps this is something that could be of use?" Without withdrawing his head from the bench, he thrusts out his gloved right hand, revealing… a lost button, a lapel pin, and an ancient coin. <<include 'chandryfounditems'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Stare blankly. "I... don't think so, Chandry."</div>' 'chandrycontinue'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Sigh heavily. "I don't see how it could. It's trash."</div>' 'chandrycontinue'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Pat his hand kindly. "I doubt it, but feel free to keep it for yourself."</div>' 'chandrycontinue'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"If you say so," he answers cheerfully. For a moment the two of you stand in silence as you watch him continue to crawl around beneath the bench, looking rather like a smith repairing a broken-down carriage. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"By the way, where did you go this morning? You disappeared for a while."</div>' 'autogenerated_686158'>><</link>> <<if $shopvisit > 2>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I would think you'd excel in this type of trial. Don't you love riddles?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686159'>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($cunning >= 50) or ($intelligence >= 60)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I had a question. For someone as... active... as you are... how on earth does your face-paint stay so immaculate?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686160'>><<setcunning +1>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

"This morning?" He pauses in his movements briefly. "You don't remember? I was engaged in a spirited debate with one of the bards last night, on which style of music uses the valke as it deserves to be used, as well as which playwright—Divrak or Varley—was superior." "How on earth could you be familiar with the playwrights of this era?" Because he certainly couldn't have been talking about contemporary theater writers from your time. "I am a lover of the arts, my friend, no matter what the age," Chandry answers chidingly. "Anyway, I forget how we arrived there, but the bard and I agreed to settle our differences with a wrestling bout in the corridors near the washrooms, as there wasn't room anywhere else." "And you… won?" "Oh, no," he says brightly. "I was bested immediately and lost consciousness. I woke on the floor minutes later, alone, but spent the rest of the night contemplating my defeat and meditating upon whether it was a righteous one. In the end, I concluded: he was right. Varley <i>is</i> better." <<include 'chandryfinish'>>

"That I do, my Shepherd friend, that I do," Chandry chirps. "But <i>my</i> riddles can be answered by anyone, not just those who possess magic!" "What are your favorites?" you ask. He hums to himself in thought. "They change by the day—sometimes even by the hour!" he declares finally. "Would you like to hear the latest one I picked up from the most charming songstress at the Wolf's Den tavern back home?" "Please." "I know a word," he says, "six letters it contains. Take away one. And twelve is what remains." <<textbox "$chandrysriddle" "">> <<include 'chandrysriddlelol'>>

For as long as you've known him, you've never seen his signature face-paint bear a smudge or even a sweat-streak. "You mean my maquillage?" Chandry asks brightly, as if pleased you bothered to notice. "My stage-face, my theatrical mask? It was a charm I commissioned from an Enchanter long ago. I wear the charm around my neck, and so long as I have it, my face-paint will never suffer. I technically don't even have to apply it—it's simply <i>there</i>." "But… why?" you can't help but ask. Chandry laughs delightedly. "Why do you wear your hair at that length? Why do you dress in the clothes you choose, or present yourself to the world the way you do? It is simply who I am, my friend. It is a reflection of myself." Hmm. <<include 'chandryfinish'>>

<<page_break "Next" "chandrysriddlelol2">>

<<nobr>><<if ($chandrysriddle is "dozens") or ($chandrysriddle is "Dozens")>> <<setintelligence +1>> <<set $chandry += 1>> "Very good, my friend, very good!" Chandry cries. "And it's because of that verve and attitude that I know you will solve this trial handily!" <<else>> "No, sorry," Chandry says. "But it's a nice try! Hopefully you will have better luck solving this trial!" <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "chandryfinish">>

You watch him root around for a while longer, but when it becomes clear that the clown has not unearthed anything useful—and that your time is winding down—you decide to check on other avenues of the search. <<include "searcharoundtheplaza">>

<<page_break "Next" "timerdoneafter">>

Before you know it, however, Riel signals you to let you know that your time is up and that Master Alzear will be materializing shortly. You reconvene in front of the plinth and the still-frozen curtain of glowing sigils to discuss what you've found. <<nobr>><<if settings.theme is "Scholar" or settings.theme is "Bard">><center><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/codex/codeword.png" alt="Five runes or symbols are shown. The first resembles a sideways spade, the second an ornate letter 'm', the third consists of four strokes and a dot, the fourth resembles a fountain, and the last resembles a tulip."></center> <<elseif settings.theme is "Soldier" or settings.theme is "Royal">><center><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/codex/codeword.png" style="filter: invert(100%);" alt="Five runes or symbols are shown. The first resembles a sideways spade, the second an ornate letter 'm', the third consists of four strokes and a dot, the fourth resembles a fountain, and the last resembles a tulip."></center> <<else>><center><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/codex/codeword.png" style="filter: invert(100%);" alt="Five runes or symbols are shown. The first resembles a sideways spade, the second an ornate letter 'm', the third consists of four strokes and a dot, the fourth resembles a fountain, and the last resembles a tulip."></center> <</if>><</nobr>> <<nobr>><center><<if $firstletter is true>>G<<else>>_ <</if>><<if $secondletter is true>>A<<else>>_ <</if>><<if $thirdletter is true>>M<<else>>_ <</if>> _ _</center><</nobr>> "We couldn't uncover the meaning of those last sigils," Riel says, "so we can only guess at them—but what we have can give us a very informed guess, at least. And if we can unlock the cypher that this entire spell seems to be hinged on, we can glean at least some understanding of what it does and how it works. That's the theory, anyway." "And you really don't know what the word actually is?" you ask Mimir, who shakes her head. "I can only see the vision of you touching the runes," she replies tonelessly. "What you say about them, or what they do, or any other details, are not perceivable to me." "And don't forget that we don't know what <i>order</i> the runes are in, either," Shery adds anxiously. "So what we've uncovered might not be in the correct order—they could be scrambled." "We can do it!" Chandry cries. "So it is a five-letter word, containing these letters, and it must be significant, something central to the spell—something all the other Mages casting it could have been turning all their focus to and concentrating on…" "I'm surprised you got so far." You collectively jump at the deep, rumbling sound of the heavily-accented voice behind you, turning to find Magister Alzear standing there, his thick arms folded and his mouth tight with what seems to be disapproval. Riel frowns and checks his pocket watch again; from his expression, you can tell the magister has arrived earlier than expected. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Magister Alzear. We weren't expecting you so soon."</div>' 'magistersresponse1'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"What are you doing here? You said we had an hour."</div>' 'magistersresponse2'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I think you'll find our team is full of surprises."</div>' 'magistersresponse3'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

The magister tips his head. <<include "magistersresponse">>

The magister narrows his eyes. <<include "magistersresponse">>

The magister narrows his eyes. "But whether they have been for good or for ill remains to be seen," he answers flatly. Riel says, his tone sharp with wary dislike: "Your instructions said that we had an hour to decipher the working." <<include "magistersresponse">>

"I never said that you would spend the entire time <i>unobserved</i>," he replies. "I am the proctor for this trial, so I decide how it is conducted—and how exactly each team should be tested before deciding its worthiness to Saenreth. I am the school's last line of defense… and, many might say, the one who has the final say in which students are admitted to it. It's why they leave my trial for last." Then he turns and stares probingly at you. "And I have decided that I want <i>you</i> to tell me what the cypher is. You are the only true magic-user on this team, after all, so it is <i>your</i> worthiness that ought to be tested… not theirs." He doesn't even look at Mimir, Chandry, Shery, or Riel. "You are the only one Saenreth will have any use for. So it is you who must provide me the answer, without the aid of your…" His lips curls, almost imperceptibly. "Assistants. You have had enough time to think on it." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"That isn't fair! The other proctors didn't have a problem with how we've been doing things."</div>' 'autogenerated_686161'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"This is discrimination. Surely you aren't doing this to the other teams?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686162'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Very well. I already know the answer, so that's no problem."</div>' 'autogenerated_686163'>><</link>> <<if $loyal >= 50>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"My <i>teammates</i> are worth more than two teams of Mage Adepts put together. It would be foolish for Saenreth to overlook their value."</div>' 'autogenerated_686164'>><<setloyal +3>><<setcompassionate +3>><<setshery +3>><<setriel +3>><<setmimir +3>><<set $chandry += 1>><</link>><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

"<i>I</i> am not the other proctors," Magister Alzear says. "Nor am I that bumble-headed busybody apprentice, Iphiara. You have been allowed plenty more leeway by them than I ever would have allowed. But what you have brought to the Crystal Tournament is little more than a joke; a disgrace. You insult our reputation with this…. display. How can I believe you take the trials seriously, if you dared to come here with a group of jesters, fools, and barbarians in tow?" He shakes his head. "It seems you intended to make a point: perhaps you thought Saenreth was so simple to gain admission to that you could accomplish it with a group of illiterates and non-Mages? But now we will see if the long leash you have been fed will end up hanging you. What is your answer for the cypher?" <<include 'magistersdemand'>>

He's clearly a traditionalist who's insulted—or perhaps threatened—by your unconventional team's performance and what it could mean for his school. But that doesn't mean he should be allowed to punish you unfairly, and restrict your chances of gaining admission to the Tower. "As I said," Magister Alzear says, enunciating slowly and clearly, "<i>I</i> decide how this trial is administered, and no other. Now—<i>what is your answer</i>?" <<include 'magistersdemand'>>

<<nobr>><<if ($courage >= 35) and ($intelligence >= 60)>> <<setcourage +1>> <<setintelligence +1>> <<else>> However, the words sound hesitant and false, even to your own ears. <br><br> <</if>><</nobr>> Magister Alzear's eyes glitter unkindly. "Do you, now? I look forward to hearing it." <<include 'magistersdemand'>>

Magister Alzear's eyes glitter unkindly. "You speak nonsense. Saenreth is the greatest school of magic on this Continent. Of course we judge entrants by their ability to perform magic. Perhaps your 'teammates' have other skills…" He throws a contemptuous glance at Chandry's outfit. "But these skills serve no purpose within our curriculum. If it were otherwise, then we ought to throw our doors open for anyone, wouldn't you say? Why shouldn't bakers come learn from us? The bards and minstrels? By your logic, if they have skills, regardless if the skills have to do with magecraft, then Saenreth should clamor for their admission." He shakes his head. "These people would not even be in this tournament if not for your presence. So it is not their worth I am interested in testing: it's <i>yours</i>. If <i>you</i> cannot prove yourself and gain admission, then they certainly won't. But even if they could solve the cypher on their own, they could not hope to enter the school and become students without you. Now, what is your answer?" <<include 'magistersdemand'>>

<<set $correctcypher to "">>Something happens in that moment; Riel seems to realize something, because his eyes suddenly light with understanding, and he opens his mouth and begins, "It's—" "Not another word," Magister Alzear says, cutting his eyes towards him. Mutinously, Riel says again, his blue eyes boring into yours, "It's—" The magister makes a sharp, abortive motion, and perhaps even works a spell, because Riel abruptly falls silent at his gesture. "<i>Silence</i>. Or you will fail this trial and I will personally ensure you never see the inside of Saenreth." Riel says nothing more, though his eyes spark dangerously, promising retribution. Shery bites her lips, dancing from foot to foot, while Chandry chews his nails and Mimir stares impassively into the middle distance, seeming completely oblivious to Magister Alzear's presence. So it seems it's left to you. Temples thumping, you rack your brain, staring at the hovering, softly-glowing symbols as they float in front of you, almost seeming to dance before your eyes. What could this cypher, the keystone to the spell, be? <<nobr>><<if ($firstletter is true and $secondletter is true) and $thirdletter is true>> Gamma? Games? Magic? Mages?… <</if>><</nobr>> <<nobr>><<if settings.theme is "Scholar" or settings.theme is "Bard">><center><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/codex/codeword.png" alt="Five runes or symbols are shown. The first resembles a sideways spade, the second an ornate letter 'm', the third consists of four strokes and a dot, the fourth resembles a fountain, and the last resembles a tulip."></center> <<elseif settings.theme is "Soldier" or settings.theme is "Royal">><center><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/codex/codeword.png" style="filter: invert(100%);" alt="Five runes or symbols are shown. The first resembles a sideways spade, the second an ornate letter 'm', the third consists of four strokes and a dot, the fourth resembles a fountain, and the last resembles a tulip."></center> <<else>><center><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/codex/codeword.png" style="filter: invert(100%);" alt="Five runes or symbols are shown. The first resembles a sideways spade, the second an ornate letter 'm', the third consists of four strokes and a dot, the fourth resembles a fountain, and the last resembles a tulip."></center> <</if>><</nobr>> <<nobr>><center><<if $firstletter is true>>G<<else>>_ <</if>><<if $secondletter is true>>A<<else>>_ <</if>><<if $thirdletter is true>>M<<else>>_ <</if>> _ _</center><</nobr>> <center><<textbox "$correctcypher" "">></center> <<page_break "Next" "correctcyphercheck">>

<<nobr>><<if (($correctcypher is "magus") or ($correctcypher is "Magus")) or ($correctcypher is "MAGUS")>> <<setintelligence +5>> <<setmagic +1>> <<setarcane +5>> <<set $firstplace += 1>> <<set $maguswards to true>> <<achieve "achieve_cypher">><<notify_achievement "Lex Arcana" "Solved the cypher unlocking Haven's ancient magic.">> The spell suddenly ricochets into violent, explosive life. <br><br> All the thousands of glyphs surrounding you suddenly swarm, boiling with motion, before they <i>rush</i> at you, filling your vision with blinding blue light as they seem to blow straight through you like an arcane wind. So many things happen at once. <br><br> It feels as if someone has dealt your head a thumping blow. Your entire body—your skin, your veins—crackle with thrumming, electric energy. The spell takes root in your mind and creates a terrible bloom of power and knowledge inside you. You feel as if your brain is a single book, and an entire library, thousands upon thousands of pages of text, has abruptly been dumped into it, filling the finite confines of your mind with so many words and symbols and <i>meaning</i> that you could hardly cram in any more without feeling as if the book itself will explode. <br><br> You come out of the sensation gasping, hardly knowing where you are but babbling excitedly: "It's part of the spells that built Magus <i>itself</i>. The spells that govern—govern—well, <i>everything</i>. Weather, protection against famine, the flow of the canals. <i>This</i> spell is only one small part of the whole piece, but it's a vitally important one, in charge of the wards protecting the city from invasion—you can even separate them out by districts and tiers! Say if there's a fire in Whitestone, you could use this spell to activate the wards there so that the flames are contained only to that district and can't cross over into the Market Quarter or the Sun Court. And the rest of the larger working can't be interacted with—it's read-only, in a way, not something an outsider could poke or prod because it's protected from that kind of interference and wrapped in this iron-clad—it's like reading a tablet in a museum through a glass case, you can't pick it up or break it, but you can read what it says, and the little that I only glimpsed was still <i>enormous.</i> You would need hundreds or thousands of Mages working in tandem to do the <i>really</i> big stuff, but even this part—the security part—was so vast and dizzying that I thought I might go blind. These workings are baked into the very essence of the city itself! If an entire army of Mages could come to a consensus and had access to all of it, not just the one piece, they could sink the city back into the plateau if they wanted, or even expand on it and add another tier. I think that's what these buildings here are for. All of the working Mages in this district are plugged into this magic in some way, and some are working the weather and others are making sure that waste is being directed where it should and… I never knew that was how it worked back then! Or now. Whichever." <br><br> You pause to take a breath and finally come back to yourself a little, blinking beneath the blue fizz of newfound knowledge still buzzing in your head. Magister Alzear's ruddy face now looks pale and positively agog. He clearly wasn't expecting you to have such an intuitive grasp of the spell, especially not just from figuring out its cypher. You yourself aren't exactly sure why the knowledge came rushing into you as easily as it did. Is it because the ancient, primordial magic being used here is closer to your own powers than you'd care to admit? Is it something about your heritage, or is it your individual skills? Or is it because of the uncomfortable possibility that it was easier for you because… you've experienced these trials before, in a version of some past life that you don't remember but the small kithma part of your soul does? <br><br> Magister Alzear finally finds his voice again, his expression still slack with wonder as he says roughly, "Go on to Saenreth." <br><br> The glow in your head begins to fade a little. "Now? But don't you want to test my knowledge to make sure I understand how the spell works?" Because you do, you realize, the knowledge of it having been handed to you in a bundle; you could zip to different parts of the working, filed neatly in different categories in your head, as easily as if you had had a hand in creating the spell yourself. <br><br> But Magister Alzear merely shakes his head and snaps his fingers, opening up another portal in the air. "<i>Go</i>," he says sharply, and you feel a light shove as if an invisible hand had turned you around and pushed you through the doorway. Shortly thereafter, Riel, Shery, Chandry, and Mimir come tumbling through after you. Then the doorway zips itself up silently behind you, and… <br><br> You're back in the Tower. <br><br> <<page_break "Next" "thetower">> <<else>> <<set $reputation -= 1>> <<setintelligence -5>> <<set $failriddle to true>> You speak the word "<<c correctcypher>>" aloud, but nothing happens… <br><br> Magister Alzear snorts humorlessly. "Incorrect," he says. "I knew that your performance had to have been overblown. Very well. You've failed this trial, and as a result, do <i>not</i> gain entrance to Saenreth. Please return to the arena to be formally dismissed." <br><br> Your heart in your stomach and feeling a little dazed with disappointment, you turn and blindly stumble after your team as they silently file through another conjured portal in the air. However, rather than ending up back at the brightly-lit chamber at the top of Thule Arena, you find yourself in a cool, sun-dappled room with a high, vaulted ceiling and a vast array of heavy bookshelves arranged all around you. Alzear's doorway zips itself up silently behind you, and as you look around, you realize… <br><br> Are you back in the Tower? <br><br> <<page_break "Next" "thetower">> <</if>> <</nobr>>

But it's not the Tower as you know it—not the Shepherds' headquarters in your current day. It's shaped differently, <i>looks</i> different, and the room that you're currently standing in is one that you definitely haven't seen before: it's a large, octagonal chamber that you instinctively sense is positioned at the top of the tower (which has fallen down in your time), a two-story mezzanine that seems to serve as both a personal library and the office or working space of someone clearly important. <<nobr>><<if $education is "Circle-trained">> It reminds you a bit of Archmage Tevanti's office back at the Veiled Circle in Capra… in Solhadur. <</if>><</nobr>> Soft, dreamy afternoon light filters in through high stained-glass windows depicting various Mages studying the heavens, digging through ancient ruins, and collaborating to weave together large pleats of ether and magic, while shelves and shelves of untidy books line the walls, facing a raised platform in the center of the room with an enormous worktable and a spiral staircase behind it; the staircase leads to long overhead galleries featuring more bookcases on the darkened second floor. No, you've definitely never been here before… but something about the air itself feels familiar. It's the only thing that leads you to suspect you're back in the Tower, but the sense of home is almost palpable. The others seem to feel it too; Shery looks around, baffled, murmuring, "Are we out of the labyrinth?" while Riel stares intently at the bookshelves closest to you, clearly trying to make out their titles to get a sense of where he is. Then, almost as if she'd popped into existence without your noticing, you suddenly become aware of a red-haired woman leaning nonchalantly against the central worktable, watching you with her arms folded. She appears to be in her thirties, thick-boned and a little plump, broad-shouldered, and very tall, standing at almost six feet in height. Her chin-length, frizzy hair sticks out in a halo of fiery orange around her face, and she has a vivid, assertive mien that nonetheless remains unbothered to find you standing there. Something about her seems to radiate <i>power</i>. <<nobr>><<if $failriddle>> "Alzear give you a hard time?" she calls over sympathetically. "He was the proctor for my third trial, too, as well as my instructor for fifth-year Runology. Horrible man. A real pain in the ass." <br><br> Glancing at the others, you cautiously advance as a group until you're standing in front of the woman, who's still leaning against the desk strewn with papers, diagrams, and small, inscrutable replicas and models. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"What's going on? Alzear said we were supposed to return to the arena."</div>' 'autogenerated_686165'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Who are you? Are you the welcome committee?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686166'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Where are we? Is this Saenreth?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686167'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <<else>> "Welcome," the red-haired woman says. "And well done on solving the cypher. Alzear wasn't very congratulatory, was he? He was the proctor for my third trial, too, as well as my instructor for fifth-year Runology. Horrible man. A real pain in the ass." <br><br> Glancing at the others, you cautiously advance as a group until you're standing in front of the woman, who's still leaning against the desk strewn with papers, diagrams, and small, inscrutable replicas and models. "Is this Saenreth?" you ask carefully. "And who are you?" <br><br> "It's as close to Saenreth as you're going to get," the woman answers cryptically, glancing around at the darkened, vaulted room. "This is my office; my name's Senua." <br><br> <<include "whoissenua">> <</if>> <</nobr>>

"Yes, but you reached the end of the scenario, so I redirected you here," she answers baldly. "My name's Senua." <<include 'whoissenua'>>

"Committee of one," she replies good-humoredly. "That's me. My name's Senua." <<include 'whoissenua'>>

"Of a sorts," she replies good-humoredly. "I redirected you here because your trials are over. My name's Senua." <<include 'whoissenua'>>

<i>Senua</i>. The name rings a bell… <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Archmage Tangriel's head apprentice?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686168'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Archmage Tangriel's lover?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686169'>><<setcharisma -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Who?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686170'>><<setriel -1>><<setintelligence -1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"We've heard others mentioning you," Riel adds. "Everyone seems to imply that you're really the one in control of things at Saenreth." Senua nods, then pushes herself away from the worktable with her hip. "That is true, but what's more relevant to you is that I'm the one who created the labyrinth. Everything that's trapped you here—the simulacrum, the security spell in the Vault, and these trials—they're all of my own personal design." <<include 'senuaexplains'>>

Shery looks at you incredulously, while Senua snorts and shakes her head. "I suppose that's one way to put it," she says dryly. "But I'm better known as his head apprentice, and the one who really runs Saenreth." Then she pushes herself away from the worktable with her hip. "But what's more relevant to you is that I'm the one who created the labyrinth. Everything that's kept you trapped here—the simulacrum, the security spell in the Vault, and these trials—they're all of my own personal design." <<include 'senuaexplains'>>

Senua snorts, while Riel sighs and reminds you quietly: "Archmage Tangriel's head apprentice. Lochran, Calixte, and Iphiara have all mentioned her as being the one who really runs Saenreth." Senua nods, then pushes herself away from the worktable with her hip. "That is true, but what's more relevant to you is that I'm the one who created the labyrinth. Everything that's trapped you here—the simulacrum, the security spell in the Vault, and these trials—they're all of my own personal design." <<include 'senuaexplains'>>

Shery gives a soft cry of realization. "You're the one who created all of this?" Then she stops, her brow furrowing as she says more hesitantly, "But… how are you talking to us now, with foreknowledge of all of that? This is still the past—I mean, Magus, isn't it? So, how…" "Before you get yourself all twisted up in a time-loop, let me explain," Senua says. "As the simulacrum told you, I originally created this whole spellcraft because I was tinkering with ways to protect the tower that didn't involve spirits. I've always found the idea a bit cruel, that they could be holed up in some statue—or, god forbid, in a vase someone could later use as a chamber pot—for thousands of years, guarding a place even after their masters were long-dead. I know they're <i>happy</i> to do it, preferring to have a physical anchor than the formless uncorporeality of their world, but I've always wondered if they just say that because they don't know any differently. Anyway. So I experimented with things, hoping to propose my own perfected system of handling security protocols and wards without the need for spirits, but then…" A pained expression flickers across her face before she shakes her head. "Well. In any case, that's what led me to creating all of <i>this</i>. I never got the chance to fully finish it, but what's there is quite sophisticated, I think. In the case of intruders who intended to do real harm, the security spell—or rather the simulacrum I left—would have automatically quarantined them off from the rest of the tower, separating them from the building's topology so they couldn't escape or continue to cause damage to the structure. In the worst-case scenario—if they were judged truly evil—they would have either been vaporized or left there indefinitely to starve." Chandry lets out a disbelieving squawk. "Vaporized, madam? <i>Vaporized</i>?" "I never got around to implementing that," Senua answers ruefully. "But for the cases where it was sort of a toss-up—as with you—where there was actual room for doubt, where you'd done something harmful but your <i>intentions</i> were unclear, well—I built in a back-door protocol of sorts. The labyrinth. The simulacrum could never be as intelligent as a spirit, you see, so I had to build a more complicated system around it as a supplement—or as a kind of fallback. If the simulacrum was unable to judge for itself whether you were truly worthy of engaging with the Tower again based on your actions, the labyrinth and its trials were a more complex series of tests designed to give it more information to make its decision. A three-step verification process, of sorts. Is that making sense so far?" "For the most part, it's all fairly familiar," you say slowly. "You used the Crystal Tournament and its trials as a pretext for testing our worth, just as the simulacrum told us. If we passed them, then it would prove to the simulacrum that we were worthy of regaining entry to the Tower; if we failed, then we weren't." Senua grins. "Ah, but that's the clever part. In this time—<i>my</i> time—earning admission to the tower, Saenreth, and the privilege of Archmage Tangriel's tutelage depended on your magical aptitude and knowledge. But in <i>your</i> time, admission to the tower, the Shepherds' compound, depends on the strength of your character: your integrity, trustworthiness, courage, and all that. It's changed, you see: you're a Shepherd, so you have enemies and the Tower needs to know that you're not one. That you're worthy of being included in the Shepherd ranks." "But the trials of the tournament clearly treated us as if we were prospective students of Saenreth," Chandry protests. "It all involved tests of our magical skill." "It only <i>seemed</i> to," Senua tells him gleefully. Her hair seems to flame in wisps around her face. "But the labyrinth itself is different from the tournament, don't you see? Secretly, the Tower wanted to test your character, <i>not</i> your magic. We couldn't outright say so, because then your reactions wouldn't be authentic and the whole thing would be a moot point, but what I was looking for wasn't if you took first or second or even third place in the tournament; it was whether you behaved with a conduct befitting one of your status, someone who belonged in the Tower. Did you let someone die when you could have intervened? Did you tear apart love in the name of personal ambition? Did you get what you wanted through bullying and threats rather than with your wits or creativity? <<nobr>><<if $trial >= 2>> By those metrics, you passed! <<if ($firstplace >= 3) and ($trial >= 3)>> You also happened to pass every single trial in first place and with flying colors, probably breaking several records, but that was just a bonus!" <<else>> You also happened to do <i>exceedingly</i> well as a team of Adepts, but that was just a bonus!" <</if>> <<else>> By those metrics, unfortunately, you failed." <br><br> A collective gasp goes up at that, and you feel a sharp pinprick of indignation in your chest. <i>Failed</i>? <</if>><</nobr>> <<page_break "Next" "senuaexplains2">>

"Hold a moment," Riel snaps then, his voice brittle and hard. "Those are simply by <i>your</i> personal metrics and standards. <i>You</i> value love over ambition, <i>you</i> wouldn't allow another student to die. Another creator could have made completely different assessments, valuing logic over impulse or power over weakness. You mean to tell us that you're making your evaluation based on your own subjective values? If everything you're saying is true, we were never trying to prove our worth to the Tower; we were trying to prove our worth to <i>you</i>." "And that's why this spell was still in its prototype stage, and never incorporated into the actual security system of the Tower," Senua returns cheerfully. "I was still hammering away at it before I left, you see. It was just your misfortune that you happened to be in its proximity when you did something to activate it. Which was—what again, exactly?" She cocks to her head to the side, as if listening to an invisible butler delivering a report. "Ah, brought in a cursed object and triggered the alarms, did you? Yes, very unfortunate. If you'd been in any other room, you wouldn't have had to deal with all of this hassle." At Shery's pale expression, she adds, "But it was sort of fun, don't you think? Getting to take a jaunt back to the past and all that?" "But it wasn't really the past, was it?" Riel interjects then, sounding profoundly irate now. "That's why Mimir couldn't see visions of anyone else's futures: there were no futures to read, because they weren't real people. I began to suspect it the more we interacted with Prince Cosmas. It was my belief that our actions couldn't actually be changing history, that no spellmaker would risk that, but I couldn't be sure: for all I knew, we were dealing with a genuine lunatic." "No, you're right about that," Senua says, ignoring the insult. "I'd never invent a spell that could really send people back in time, if such a thing were even possible—can you imagine the disastrous effects that would wreak? No. All of this is—well, I call it a 'construct' or a 'labyrinth,' but the more accurate term might be a 'cocktail' of my own making: a fabricated simulation, part real history, part personal memory, part fantasy and imagination, with just a dash of organic, home-grown chaos that could adjust to most scenarios you threw its way. The trials were really the trials I had to take before I entered Saenreth, and many of the characters—Lochran, Calixte, Iphiara, Eyvi—were people I knew, just… shuffled into different roles, for you. A kind of <i>tableau vivant</i>. It's a very neat kind of spell, in my humble opinion; I'm not sure there's another of its kind, as it's <i>vastly</i> complex and dense. It's like letting someone walk through one of your daydreams, but a dream that has a life of its own, that shifts and breathes and reacts to and molds itself around the person entering it, and it's one that you can see and touch just as vividly as if you'd entered another world. 'Labyrinth' was the closest thing I could come up with, but it doesn't quite capture how complicated it all is." <<include "senuaexplain">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("senuaimpressive")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"That's incredibly impressive. How did you learn how to do all of this?"</div>' 'senuaimpressive'>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("senualabyrinthquestion")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"But what would have happened if I didn't obey the rules of the scenario? If I abandoned the tournament or tried to leave the arena and run out of the city?"</div>' 'senualabyrinthquestion'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("senuadanger")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"So we were never in any true danger?"</div>' 'senuadanger'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("senualookingmimir")>><<link '<div class="question-item">Turn to Mimir. "Is that why you kept saying that 'nothing was real'? You couldn't have been more specific than that?"</div>' 'senualookingmimir'>><<setmimir -1>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You can only stare at her in slightly stunned silence.</div>' 'senuaservitor'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Senua smiles, then shrugs. "Nowhere, really. It was just something I built slowly on my own time. A side project, if you will." You laugh unsteadily. "Glad to know we got trapped by someone's weekend hobby." The other Mage laughs. "Well, it was far harder to accomplish than an embroidery project or some woodwork, I can promise you that." <<include "senuaexplain">>

"Oh, eventually you would have popped back into the Vault," she says offhandedly, seemingly genuinely happy to answer your questions. "Though things likely would have gotten very strange for you, first. The simulation only covers the arena and some of the immediate surrounding area, and although Magus is recreated in loving detail as I remember it, most of the buildings are only facsimiles: they would have been empty if you'd thrown open a random door and walked inside. Didn't you notice there were never any people walking around? In the streets, in your—I suppose you'd call it the Sun Court?" Then she stops herself and mutters, "Or did I build in a charm to keep you from noticing that?" She idly consults one of the schematics on her desk. "Hmm, I think I did. There was also a charm to make you forget, slightly, that you would still go home no matter what happened with the trials, that you wouldn't be stuck here in the past." At your incredulous looks, she shrugs. "I wanted to make things feel real and urgent. Your characters could only be tested under real duress, and with real stakes." <<include "senuaexplain">>

"Not really," Senua says mildly. "Although pretty much everything in the labyrinth operates according to its own autonomy, just like real people—I wasn't really controlling anything myself, is what I mean, or talking to you through them or anything like that, so they were acting and reacting just as they would under normal circumstances—but the Nemek couldn't really kill you. If you'd been attacked with life-ending injuries, you would have been dropped back into the Vault unharmed." <<include "senuaexplain">>

The Seer looks at you quietly. "I didn't understand what I was experiencing," she replies. "Not to this level of detail. I could only tell that I couldn't see their futures, and that things just didn't feel… the way they usually do." "Don't blame <i>her</i>," Senua interjects then. "Even if she had realized the full extent of what was going on, I'm pretty sure the labyrinth would have stopped her from telling you. Made her forget, or something. I don't remember, I wove a lot into the spell, but I'm pretty sure I planned for something like that." <<include "senuaexplain">>

Senua smiles ruefully. "You can go ahead and hit me," she says, "if that would make you feel better. But I'm not the real Senua, of course. I'm a servitor, an echo or an imprint of her. A kind of magical construct that was imbued with all of her personality and memories at the time of its creation. But I'm no more real or alive than the rest of this place is." It's Shery who speaks up then, her voice stilted and uncertain as she says, "Um… I'm sorry for asking this, but… I've read a lot about Archmage Tangriel's life, and I haven't really seen any mention of you. Or the 'real' Senua, I suppose I should say. Why is that?" "And why do you keep referring to having to leave before you could finish this project?" Riel adds. "And why abandon it in the Tower when you could have taken it with you?" Senua's expression darkens, and it feels as if the room does, too; the afternoon light streaming through the stained-glass windows seems to dim, and the shadows in the corners of the room thicken. But Senua's voice is mild as she says, "It's quite simple, really. I was Tangriel's head apprentice for five years; soon enough I became his right-hand, less of an assistant and more of an equal. I don't think it's unhumble to say that he thought I was brilliant, and did everything he could to further my status and career, wanting to ensure I was taken seriously by other Mages—even older peers from his own cohort, who were skeptical of all of my wild ideas. I began to take on more responsibilities for him and for Saenreth, both to prove that I was capable of wielding the same kind of authority he did, and to free him up for his own research, which he never had time for anymore. The only problem with the whole thing was that we fell in love." <<page_break "Next" "senuaservitotnext">>

You're not sure what to make of that statement: <i>Archmage Tangriel in love?</i> Although he was, of course, a regular and mortal human, somehow he's become larger than that to you and the other Shepherds—a kind of ghostly grandfather of your Order, or something to that effect. <<nobr>><<if $tangrielknow is true>> Even finding his remains at the bottom of the Cave of Many Mouths—and learning of his truly unfortunate demise—still didn't quite puncture the shroud of ancient history and reverence that hung around him. <</if>><</nobr>> To hear of him engaging in some illicit affair with his younger apprentice feels… startling, somehow. Senua catches your look and says, "It's not like that. It's not as if he took <i>advantage</i> of me; if anything, I was the one doing the pursuing, and he did his best to stave me off and pretend as if he didn't notice what was happening. For as long as he could, anyway." She smiles, a little bitterly. "Stupid man. We knew we loved each other, but he couldn't get past how improper it felt—no, how it would be <i>perceived</i>. He worried that my reputation would be ruined, that people would think that I'd got where I was because I'd seduced him, that he'd given me his high regard and his resources and his connections because he desired me, not because he genuinely respected my talents. And he was right, unfortunately. Although we never breathed a word of it to anyone, people started to say things, anyway. Jealous apprentices and rivals whispering that I was a harlot and a so-and-so, that our late-night research sessions were excuses for something else. Well. Eventually he made the decision to send me away to Armalenthieh, to salvage what I could of my career. It was 'for my own good,' he said." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $sherytime >= 1>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"What did you do when you found out he disappeared?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686171'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"But that's not fair. Why were you the one accused of being the seducer, and not him? He was your superior."</div>' 'autogenerated_686172'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Armalenthieh? Is that why you made us the delegation from there?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686173'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Senua frowns. "Disappeared?" she repeats. "I'm… When I was created, and I mean me-the-servitor, the real Senua didn't know anything about that. It was just before she left Saenreth. Did he…" But then she shakes her head, looking troubled. "No, don't tell me anything. It's not as if I could do anything about it now. I'm just a recording; a ghost." Then, looking pained, she looks down at her worktable and rifles blindly through some papers. You give her a moment to compose herself. <<include 'senuaservitormore'>>

Senua rolls her eyes. <<nobr>><<if $gender != "male">> "I didn't think I'd need to explain it to you," she says. <</if>><</nobr>> "I don't know what it's like in your time, but that's sort of the age-old story. It's always the woman's fault—and besides that, it's easier to resent <i>me</i>, the young, up-and-coming newcomer, rather than it is to get mad at <i>him</i>, the one who's been around for ages and is already venerated for doing all the wonderful things he'd become famous for. I was just easier to blame." <<include 'senuaservitormore'>>

Senua shrugs. "I suppose so. Like I said, the labyrinth pulled a lot of things from my mind—the real Senua's mind, rather—and does things on its own. I suppose some of my subconscious was sublimated into details like that, sure." <<include 'senuaservitormore'>>

"So you were forced to leave Saenreth before you could accomplish everything you wanted to," Riel says, picking up the thread from there. "But why leave this construct—the security spell, the simulacrum, the labyrinth, this servitor—behind? You couldn't have simply forgotten it." Senua shakes her head. "No," she says ruefully. "Tangriel and I—my departure wasn't exactly <i>easy</i>. I wanted to stay, regardless of what was being said about me; I didn't care about my reputation, but he did. We parted on unhappy terms." Then she scowls. "And more than that, I was just plain <i>annoyed</i> by it all: that he was going to come out of it unscathed while I was the one who had to be sent away, like an unruly child. Like I really had done something wrong. And I was irked that my contributions to his work were going to go unacknowledged because of our relationship, because of all of the secrets we were keeping. I could just tell that as soon as I left, everyone would be glad to forget about me, about the messiness I represented, and life would go back to normal. So I left the spell in the Tower—made this servitor of myself a part of it—hoping that <i>someone</i> wouldn't forget me. It's… it's all I could leave behind, really. An imprint of me in the home that I loved so much, that I helped <i>build</i>. A legacy that I stitched into the fabric of this place, even if it was in a little unkempt corner that no one would notice… until you stumbled across it. I suppose it lingered in the Vault for all that time, growing on the greater magic system of the Tower like moss." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Sympathize with her. "I'm sorry that happened to you. It wasn't fair."</div>' 'autogenerated_686174'>><<setcompassionate +3>><<setshery +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Chastise her. "Are you insane? Your little piece of 'woe-is-me' sentiment put us through two days' worth of Hael! Haven't you ever heard of carving your name into a wall or something?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686175'>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setshery -3>><<set $chandry -= 1>><<setriel +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Remain business-like. "Well, what happens now?"</div>' 'senuaendoftalk'>><<setriel +2>><<setloyal +2>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Senua smiles slightly. "Thank you," she says softly. "Even if I'm not the real Senua, I still feel how she felt when she created me, and… it's nice to be able to talk about it with someone. At Saenreth, after Tangriel and I stopped talking—it felt like I was alone, that I would simply fade away from people's minds after I left. Part of the reason why I didn't want to be forgotten, I suppose." <<include 'senuaendoftalk'>>

Senua barks out a bitter, brittle laugh. "Yes, I suppose it makes sense for you to get angry. I don't mind. Nor do I expect you to understand why I did all of this. I suppose all I can say is—be glad I didn't leave anything <i>vengeful</i> behind. I truly was only trying to help bolster the security network with my own little spell. But with my knowledge of the Tower's systems… I could have left behind something much, much worse." <<include 'senuaendoftalk'>>

She considers you thoughtfully. "Well, I suppose it's time for you to go back. Most of the energy of the spell will be expended by the time you get back, I would think, since I never plugged it into a long-lasting energy source—so you won't have to worry about this happening to some other unlucky recruit. The simulacrum, too, will become inert, and you won't be able to enter the labyrinth again. It's a one-way trip, it seems." <<nobr>><<if $trial >= 2>> "And since we passed your trials, that means we'll be allowed to leave the Vault once we're back?" Riel asks acerbically, ever the contractual thinker. <br><br> <<if $trial >= 3>> Senua nods. "That's right. You might even find another secret I left in that Vault; it might come in handy for you, or it might not. Oh, that's right." She fishes around in her wide pocket, then tosses something at you, something that glints and catches the gold-dark afternoon light; <<if $strength >= 55>> your arm automatically rises to catch it. <<else>> you fumble for it and barely manage to keep it from shattering all over the ground. Shery lets loose an exhale of relief. <</if>> <<setmagic +10>> <<setarcane +10>> <<setastral +10>> <<setpsionic +10>> <<set $arcanecrystal to true>> <br><br> You hold the object up to the light: it's a large, tear-dropped crystal pendant dangling on a slim white chain. Right now, it's tinted the same blue-green that colored the floating runes and sigils of the cypher you just witnessed—but staring into its depths, you get the feeling that it could change in some way, perhaps shifting its nature over time to refract your own magic and light over that of its previous owner's. <br><br> "The Crystallus Arcus," Senua says cheerfully. "The namesake of the Crystal Tournament. Of course, it's not the real historical one, but this one will serve as an amplifier and enhancer of your magic as long as you wear it. A token from me for all of your troubles." She nods at your companions. "Sorry I didn't make anything more useful to you lot, but at least it's something." <br><br> You slowly tuck the crystal away, under your shirt; it thrums with a subtle magical energy against your chest. "Thank you." <br><br> She smiles and waves. "Use it well. And hey—try not to forget about me when you're back." <<else>> Senua nods. "That's right. You might even find another secret I left in that Vault; it might come in handy for you, or it might not. But at least you'll be able to rejoin the rest of the Tower." <</if>> <br><br> There doesn't seem to be anything left to say after that; Senua folds her arms and stares at you, steadily and expectantly, so after some hesitation, you slowly turn and make your way towards the only door leading out of the room, directly behind you. You glance back once as Chandry pushes open the enormous oaken doors and strides through; you catch a glimpse of Senua, standing there on the raised dais alone, her figure lit from above as if by a spotlight and the rest of the room wreathed in shadow; she doesn't break eye contact with you as you step through the archway yourself, allowing her form to fade back into gold-lit dust and shadow, the same place where she'd been waiting for you all along. <br><br> <<page_break "Next" "outsidethetower">> <<else>> "But you said we failed," you interject. "So once we return to the Vault, won't we still be stuck there? Left to starve?" <br><br> "Oh, right," she says blithely. "Pity, that, but there isn't anything <i>I</i> can do; the real Senua engineered the spell long ago, not me, and so it's set in stone. I'm just the messenger. Still, I'm sure you'll be able to figure something out." <br><br> And before you can protest or raise an outcry, as she no doubt predicts you'll do, the servitor raises her hand and snaps her fingers, and you feel as if a chasm opens up beneath your feet. Your stomach swoops, your bodies suspended briefly in a bizarre mid-fall… and then you plummet, shouting, down through shadow and ether and time and back through gold-lit memory itself. <br><br> <<page_break "Next" "trialfail">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<set $reputation -= 8>> You open your eyes to the sounds of Shery's hopeless wailing. "We're back in the Vault," she sniffles, barely managing to contain her sobs and wiping her eyes with the underside of her wrists. "W-we went through all of that for <i>nothing</i>!" She's right: you are indeed back in the same Vault you started in, sprawled on the ground as if you were a limp puppet dropped by an unfeeling hand back into the room… and with nothing to show for your efforts. The exit is still missing from its doorway, and you are still sealed into this room with no way of getting out. Behind you, Riel is cursing softly to himself. "It's that outrageous woman," he says between his teeth, glaring sightlessly as if willing the apparition of Senua to materialize before him again so he can throttle her. "What a <i>ridiculous</i> experiment, what a <i>stupid</i> set of rules—" Chandry is looking around morosely. "How are we going to get out now?" he asks sadly. "The simulacrum is dormant, and we can't enter the labyrinth again." Shery lets out another full-throated wail. Mimir says helpfully, "I do see one future where we starve." You clamber to your feet, your joints stiff and burning as if you've been lying in the same position for hours. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if (($arcane >= 80) and ($magic >= 90)) or (($specialization is "binder") and ($arcane >= 70))>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"To Hael with this. I'm going to punch through the wards myself."</div>' 'trialfailarcane'>><<setarcane +5>><<setmagic +5>><<set $defenses to false>><<set $resources -= 2>><<set $army -= 5>><<set $shepherdgold -= 100>><<set $reputation -= 10>><</link>><</if>> <<if (($arcane < 80) or ($magic < 90)) and (($specialization is not "binder") or ($arcane < 70))>><div class="inactive-item">"To Hael with this. I'm going to punch through the wards myself."</div><</if>> <<if $godspeaker >= 1>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'll have to use a Word of Power to get us out of here."</div>' 'trialfailword'>><<set $godspeaker -= 1>><<set $reputation -= 5>><</link>><</if>> <<if $godspeaker < 1>><div class="inactive-item">"I'll have to use a Word of Power to get us out of here."</div><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

Before anyone can stop you, you gather your magic, wreathing your will in arcane power; and then, confronting the myriad tapestry of invisible magic locking you in this room, keeping the Vault floating in its own detached dimension—you find its weakest point and then direct your power into a focused beam, slicing through the threads of Senua's spell like a ray of magnified sunlight shredding through old paper. Instantly, the spell dies… but alarmingly, you also feel parts of the system that it's attached to dying with it, parts of the Tower's wards withering away and leaving behind tattered holes and gaps where ironclad, interlocking defenses had existed just moments before. Still, before you can absorb just how much damage has been done, you feel a violent rollicking motion, accompanied by a vast, pained groan from the stones around you… and then you're tossed to the ground as if you're on the deck of a heaving ship. Shery gives a high scream as the lights blow out and the room itself enters a high-speed, chaotic spin that goes on and on, tossing you and your companions around like ragdolls as the entire chamber whirls in violent motion, as if the whole of it were caught up in an explosive vortex of energy that no one could hope to control… <<page_break "Next" "trialfailarcane2">>

When your head finally stops spinning and you're able to register that you're finally lying flat on the ground—and that the room is at a standstill again—you manage to open your eyes, barely suppressing a nauseous retch just as an unfamiliar face hovers over you. "Erm," the fresh-faced recruit says hesitantly; you can see the familiar vaulted ceilings of the Tower's main atrium stretching high above his head. "Are you… all right?" He looks around at your group, all of you sprawled out and groaning on the floor. Nearby, several other recruits have paused mid-stride, staring at you in unabashed surprise and alarm. "You just popped into the room out of nowhere, <<c rank>>. Should I go and fetch a Healer?" "Are we back in the Tower?" you rasp, just to be sure. The recruit looks utterly bewildered, glancing around at the vast lobby all around you—the Order's grand entrance that you've passed through almost every day for the last year. "Uh… yes?" You wave him off as he attempts to haul you up; your body feels too spent and exhausted, your mind too dizzy, for you to attempt standing at the moment, but suddenly you feel like giggling with relief. "Then we're going to be just fine." "Training exercise," Riel finally manages, sitting up shakily to the right of you. "Nothing to be concerned about." But is that true of the building's wards? you wonder as other officers hurry to assist you. You're not entirely sure, but the important thing is… you're home. <<page_break "Next" "trialfailarcane3">>

You take some time to reorient yourselves, especially after the distressing way you forcefully made the Vault spit you out to rejoin the topography of the Tower. ("If that's what translocation is like, I'm never going to try it!" Shery proclaims emphatically.) After a period of recuperation, you try to inspect the compound's wards and security spells, but your magic is too spent and weak at the moment to discern much. You resolve to have other Mages help you run assessments and try to repair any damage that you can find in the coming days, though the outlook isn't too bright in that regard. If anyone could barely understand how the manifold and ancient spells worked in the first place, the chances of knowing how to repair them are slim to none. Still, on the surface, everything seems perfectly normal; and best of all, when you do manage to exit the atrium, the Tower doesn't react to you as an intruder at all—exactly as if your misadventure with the cursed package and the labyrinth had never happened. It's a small blessing after a draining, complicated few days. Your brute-forcing of Senua's spell has forced the Tower to accept you once again, it seems. More disappointingly, however, you find that the simulacrum's threats of taking away the Vaults should you fail the trials of the labyrinth proved true; there are no longer any stairways leading to the lower levels that once held the Vaults, and digging a hole where those floors should be turns up nothing but old soil and dirt. So it's with a heavy heart that you accept that the Vaults will be sealed away from the outside world for the next one hundred years… not exactly an easy conversation to have with Blade or the other officers of the Order. Still, it's a small price to pay considering what could have happened: death by foreign curse or death by starvation. Although you hear some grumbling about the loss of Archmage Tangriel's artifacts as well as the Tower's damaged words, no one dares speak any criticism over your actions directly to your face, and soon enough things smooth over into a state of normalcy once again. <<page_break "Next" "aftermathlabyrinth">>

Shery looks anxious while Chandry seems puzzled (of course, he's never heard the term before). "Are you sure that's a wise idea?" she asks immediately. "The—your—<i>the voice</i> said those should only be used in specific instances, didn't it?" You gesture wearily, hopelessly. "Would it be better if we were all left here to starve? Better to use one than to let them all go to waste by dying, isn't it?" Shery shuts her mouth, clearly unsure of what to say to that, but she still looks torn as you close your eyes and ready yourself to do what must be done. It's the hardest you've ever had to try to use a Word of Power: before, you've always used one unthinkingly, in the heat of the moment and completely instinctively. It seemed to flow off of your tongue like water, without you even realizing how you did it. Now, however, it's a struggle to reach for that power inside of you; you feel like you're straining and grasping for a muscle that's gone inert, or trying to break through intense stage fright to stumble through a few verses of a song, only to find that your voice is a mere unlubricated croak. You actually break out into a sweat, trying to summon the Word from deep inside of yourself and loose it into the air; you end up gasping out ineffectual nonsense several times, to your embarrassment, growing increasingly more frustrated as you try to make your own innate ability cooperate with your will. Finally, you manage it, though it's mumbled and nowhere near as grand and earth-shattering as previous instances have been, the Word dropping from your tongue like a pellet of something bitter you're spitting out rather than flowing through you with divine power. Still, there's a flash of light, a searing, breathless sensation of something <i>changing</i>— And then you're opening your eyes to find yourselves back in the main atrium of the Tower. Several nearby recruits are staring at you in unabashed alarm and terror—exactly as if you were the intruders that the Tower's wards and spirits have always tried to defend your home against. <<page_break "Next" "trialfailword2">>

It takes some time for the commotion to die down, but eventually, you manage to reorient yourselves while fending off the barrage of worried questions about what's going on. To your satisfaction, the Word of Power seems to have worked: you all made it back to the entrance of the Tower in one piece, and the Tower itself doesn't react to you, behaving exactly as it always did. In short, it's almost as if your misadventure with the cursed package and the labyrinth never took place: the spells and wards treat you as one of their own again, which is the best outcome that you could have hoped for. More disappointing, however, is that the simulacrum made good on its threat to seal away the Vaults if you happened to fail the trials of the labyrinth. There are no longer any stairways leading to the lower levels that once held the Vaults, and digging a hole where those floors should be turns up nothing but old soil and dirt; it's as if they never existed to begin with. So it's with a heavy heart that you accept that the Vaults will be sealed away from the outside world for the next one hundred years… which is not exactly an easy conversation to have with Blade or the other officers of the Order. Still, it's a small price to pay considering what could have happened: death by foreign curse or death by starvation. When you phrase it like that, everyone has no choice but to accept the unfortunate situation for what it is. <<page_break "Next" "aftermathlabyrinth">>

<<nobr>><<set $towerexit to true>> <<achieve "achieve_towerexit">><<notify_achievement "Champion of the Labyrinth" "Successfully left the labyrinth using Senua's secret exit.">><</nobr>> You open your eyes to find that you've stepped out into a wide green hill, the springy clover and soft new grass touching your ankles still cool and damp with morning dew, though the sun is just past its noon zenith. Beside you, Chandry falls to his hands and knees with a dramatic gasp, clutching the grass between his gloved fingers and crying, "Huzzah! We've made it back!" You turn, blinking in the sudden sunlight, and see that he's right. Haven—<i>your</i> Haven, not Magus—stands on its proud plateau before you, the familiar white spires and beloved, soot-smudged walls a welcome sight, no matter how battered they may seem after a visit to Senua's more pristine time. <<nobr>><<if $trial is 3>> And the arcane crystal still hangs around your neck, knocking pleasantly against your chest. <</if>><</nobr>> As if to confirm it even further, Mimir looses a little breath beside you. "It's real," she affirms, staring sightlessly out at Haven's white peaks. "We've woken up from our dream." Shery is looking around, frowning. "This is the Sun's Embrace again," she says slowly. "The same place where we ended up the first time we stepped into the labyrinth—where we first came across the Adepts yesterday morning. Why would the labyrinth have led us out <i>here</i>?" "I'm not sure," Riel says grimly, glowering up at the city as if it had offended him. No doubt he must be thinking of the inconvenience of having to make the arduous walk all the way back to the Shepherds' compound again. "But first, let us see if we <i>have</i> in fact earned readmission to the Tower. We can worry about where it spat us out—and why—later." <<page_break "Next" "outsidethetower2">>

And so, holding your breath in anticipation, you make the weary trek back home. You're not entirely surprised to find that the Tower's defenses don't react to you at all, as if nothing had ever happened; clearly, Senua's spell didn't infiltrate and corrupt the rest of the security wards in place, because the compound recognizes and greets you as one of its own, just as it always has, and just as she herself promised. It's as if your misadventure with labyrinth never occurred in the first place. <<include "aftermathlabyrinth">>

Perhaps even more surprising is the revelation that only four hours have passed since Chandry brought the contaminated package in and you found yourselves sealed away in the Vault. Even though it felt like more than a day to you, you haven't even been gone long enough for anyone in the real world to realize you were missing. Trying to explain what happened to you just earns you nonplussed and somewhat suspicious looks, as if people are gauging whether you're collectively playing a group prank on them. Once you manage to convince them of the truth of your experiences, though, Red in particular looks so mortified that you're not sure he'll ever entirely recover. (<i>"What's that howling sound?"</i> <i>"Oh, that's just Red, you know, screaming into a pillow in the other room. I think he's saying, 'What the fuck, what the fuck, why,' over and over."</i>) <<nobr>><<if $towerexit>> Even more curiously, when you venture back into the Vault that first trapped you, creeping first with the trepidation of overly-cautious field mice, you discover that no trace of the simulacrum or the labyrinth spell still remains, at least not in any way that you can detect. However, there is a new door set in the far wall of the room, opposite of the door you use to enter it; and stepping through that new door immediately deposits you back in the same spot in the Sun's Embrace, without fail. <br><br> Inconveniently, it's only a one-way passage: you can step <i>out</i> and find yourself outside of the city, but turning around only presents you with empty air, meaning there's no way to reenter the Shepherds' compound from that location. <br><br> "It makes sense from a security standpoint," Riel says, considerably calmer after a bath an much-needed respite. "You can't have anyone bumbling around in the valley and tripping over a secret shortcut that leads directly into the depths of the Shepherds' headquarters." <br><br> "Yes, but why put an exit to out there at all?" you ask. "Could that really have been Senua's other secret?" <br><br> Shery, nibbling gratefully on a pile of scones, interjects, "It could have been used as a secret emergency exit. Perhaps that's how she left the Tower originally. Maybe she didn't want to deal with all of the awkwardness and goodbyes, and simply cut a path for herself out when she departed. It seems very like her." <<else>> "I wish the spell hadn't vanished after one use," he says later, having calmed down in the time it took you all to have a bath and a bracing meal. "I suppose it makes sense, given how ancient it was—but consider how useful it would have been to be able to regularly consult with someone like Senua, even in the form of her servitor, in order to understand the magic that protects this place!" <br><br> "That's assuming the servitor would have cooperated with you at all," Shery points out, nibbling gratefully on a pile of scones. "She seemed like the type of person who wouldn't bother telling you a thing if she didn't respect you. Maybe she would have even done something to trip you up, just to teach you a lesson if she thought you were getting too cheeky!" <</if>><</nobr>> Ever since your jaunt into the labyrinth, Shery has become fascinated with finding out more about Senua—or, more to the point, with the fact that history could have forgotten such an important figure in Magus's past as well as in Archmage Tangriel's life. "I mean, I've been combing through these Vaults for over a year now," she tells you excitedly. "And I <i>never</i> saw any trace of her. But she seemed so <i>powerful</i>, so self-assured—I find myself wanting to write a book about her, just to ensure that she isn't forgotten any longer!" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I think that sounds like a great idea. It would be a nice way to finally honor her memory."</div>' 'autogenerated_686176'>><<setshery +5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm not sure that's a good idea. We can't trust that anything that servitor said was true."</div>' 'autogenerated_686177'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Why would you? As far as I'm concerned, Senua deserved to be forgotten. She was a dangerous loose cannon."</div>' 'autogenerated_686178'>><<setcompassionate -3>><<setshery -5>><<set $sheryromanceflag -= 1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $gender is "female">> <<set $sheryromanceflag += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> Shery beams, pleased that you support her idea. "I'm glad you think so, too," she says, practically glowing with pleasure. "If I ever finish a draft, I would love it if you were my first reader!" <<include 'sheryfirstreader'>>

"If it's not verified by independent records," you point out, "we only have the servitor's word to go on; and it could have been corrupted by centuries of disuse, or it could have been based off of someone who was a natural liar. What if her and Tangriel's relationship ended for other reasons, and the causes she gave us were extremely biased in her favor? What if she never was Tangriel's lover at all, or what if she was dismissed from Saenreth for other reasons?" Shery's face falls at this. "You really think so?" she asks, dismayed. "But… she seemed so convincing when we were talking to her…" However, she quails at your skeptical expression and drops the idea shortly thereafter. <<include 'afterlabyrinthcontinue'>>

"Leaving a spell like that behind was downright irresponsible," you add. "I'm not surprised if she was unpopular among her peers at Saenreth: she clearly played around with magic that shouldn't have been toyed with. I wouldn't be so quick to venerate a person like that." Shery's face falls at this. "Yes, but…" Then she presses her lips together and murmurs to herself, "Surely that doesn't mean she deserves to be forgotten?" But if she continues pursuing her idea, she stops speaking to you about it shortly thereafter. <<include 'afterlabyrinthcontinue'>>

<<nobr>><<if ($sheryromanceflag >= 30) and ($highestromance is "shery")>> <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Take the opportunity to flirt with her.</div>' 'autogenerated_686179'>><<set $sheryromanceflag += 3>><<setshery +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I would love to!"</div>' 'autogenerated_686180'>><<setshery +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Eh, we'll see if I have the time."</div>' 'autogenerated_686181'>><<setshery -10>><<setcharisma -3>><<set $sheryromanceflag -= 5>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <<else>> <br> <<include "afterlabyrinthcontinue">> <</if>><</nobr>>

You still haven't forgotten the powerful moment of connection that you shared while you were in the labyrinth. You glance around; the others are clearly engrossed in their own conversations, so you take the opportunity to lean forward and whisper, "I would love to… but only if you tell me what you were going to say the night of the second trial." Immediately, heat swamps Shery's face; she looks at you like a wide-eyed owl being shocked out of sleep. She clearly knows what you're talking about, but she stammers, "Wh—I—" You shake your head teasingly. "What, you don't want to say, even though you're willing to write a whole book on Senua? If I didn't know better, I'd say I have cause to be jealous." Shery abruptly stands up, crying out passionately, "That's not—I admire Senua, but she doesn't even come close to you in <i>any</i> regard!" The others in the room turn and look at the two of you with blank—or very interested, in the case of Chase and Briony—stares. Shery shuts her mouth abruptly, looking horrified, while you say easily, "Don't worry, she's just recalling a conversation we had with someone in the labyrinth." Riel gives you a droll look, knowing full well that isn't the case, but the others seem convinced, at least. When they turn back to their own conversations, you send Shery a wink, and she looks as if all of the strength has gone out of her knees; you might make her melt straight into the floor. <<include 'sheryflirtafter'>>

Shery beams, and over the next several days, you find her running around, interviewing temperamental spirits and scribbling notes down in a notebook. <<include 'afterlabyrinthcontinue'>>

Shery's face falls, though she doesn't bring up the subject to you again. <<include 'afterlabyrinthcontinue'>>

<<page_break "Next" "afterlabyrinthcontinue">>

Chandry merrily returns to his shop after a hopeful bid of joining the Shepherds in an official capacity—the answer was a flat and resounding "no" from Blade, Tallys, and multiple other parties—though Riel and Shery increase his vendor contracts with the Order as a sympathetic gesture for all that he's been through with you, with many promises to invite him back to the compound to "negotiate terms" whenever he likes. (Thankfully, he seems overjoyed with that alone.) Mimir immediately seems to forget your adventures in the past altogether, her mind once more crowded by visions and phantoms of the future now that you're back in Haven again; <<nobr>><<if $mimir >= 60>> however, you're of the belief that even if she doesn't refer to the events of the labyrinth directly, the bond you forged there won't be forgotten. <<else>> and if you're a little sad that she won't recall the details of your escapades together, you don't mention it directly to her. <</if>><</nobr>> And so life after your tumble into the labyrinth and its "past" returns to its normal paces, <<nobr>><<if $arcanecrystal is true>> with not much to remind you that it ever happened at all…. save for the arcane crystal still humming gently against your own heartbeat. <<else>> with not much to remind you that it ever happened at all. <</if>><</nobr>> It's only when Riel approaches you in <<nobr>><<if $rank is "Commander">> your office one day, <<else>> one of the conference rooms one day, <</if>><</nobr>> wearing a grave expression, that you recall the other loose end that still needs tying up. <<nobr>><<if ($rielromanceflag >= 30) and ($highestromance is "riel") and ($dranks is true)>> <br><br> More importantly, however, you notice that he's carrying an unlabeled bottle of something that looks like wine. <br><br> "This is unprecedented," you drawl as Riel sets the bottle down onto your worktable. "I never see you indulging in drink like this, let alone bringing it to share with someone else." <br><br> Riel chuckles lightly, uncorking the bottle with an elegant twist of his wrist. "It had to be shared," he says, a rogueish glint in his blue eyes. "I thought we'd need it as a reminder of simpler times." <br><br> He pours out two neat glasses of the red liquid, and you toast each other before having a taste. You lick your lips in surprise. "That's not…" <br><br> "The drink they served at the second trial," Riel finishes with a smirk. "<i>Vivanceè petillant</i>, or glow-wine. It's at a far reduced potency, but I found myself fond of it when we had it. And—" He raises his glass in another toast to you. "I especially enjoyed drinking it with you. So I hunted down the recipe and commissioned a private vintner. It's quite the likeness, wouldn't you agree?" <br><br> You smile fondly at the memory the two of you shared during that trial. "You went that far to keep a reminder of that night?" <br><br> Riel tilts his head playfully. "It was a special night," he acknowledges simply. <br><br> Then he turns back to business, though you notice that the more glow-wine you consume, the more unguarded and relaxed he becomes: a rare sight, and one you notice he never shares willingly with anyone but you. As you talk, he even loosens his cravat; you try not to be distracted by the pale column of his throat. <</if>><</nobr>> "I've been working with Chandry," the Commander-Seneschal begins evenly, sitting back in his plush chair and looking as sleek and urbane as ever (and clearly back in his mode of comfort: he was beginning to look quite haggard and disheveled by the end of your time in Senua's labyrinth, at least by Riel's standards, and it's an obvious relief for him to dispense with the memory of that unfortunate state altogether). "We've been trying to identify the courier who first passed him that package and set off the whole unseemly ordeal. It's taken some work and cooperation from both my contacts at the Courier's Guild and even Chase's spies, but I think I've tracked down the person who sent you those chocolates." You sit up straighter, leaving off the paperwork you'd been toiling away on. "Oh?" Riel nods, steepling his fingers together. "Sibella de Vespe," he announces, glaring into the middle distance as if facing Sibella from across a chessboard himself. "The Autarch's new High Court Mystic." You haven't heard the term before. "What's a High Court Mystic?" Riel makes a disdainful gesture. "One of the new positions that Enik Goldenson created upon his ascension to the Divine Throne. None of this has been widely publicized, and the bulk of my information had to come from Lavinet's contacts in the Sun Court. But from what I can gather, Enik has done something unprecedented and created a special position for one of his Court Mages—one of the magic-users who work directly for the Sun Court and are given special privileges and freedoms by the crown—naming her an important advisor and a minister in her own right. The High Court Mystic—or Court Mystic, as it is shortened to—is deemed the most powerful of the Autarch's Court Mages and is given the same power and responsibilities as, say, the Minister of the Treasury, the High Chancellor, or the Grand Inquisitor. Except her domain, of course, lies in the realm of magic." You feel a chill at that. <<include "sibellaintro">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("whoissibella")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Who is this Sibella de Vespe?"</div>' 'whoissibella'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("enikmagenew")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Why would Enik create a position in his court specifically for a Mage?"</div>' 'enikmagenew'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("sibellasendme")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"What would someone like that want to send to me?"</div>' 'sibellasendme'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Ask the most important question of all. "What was the curse intended to do?"</div>' 'rielcursereply'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Riel scowls, drumming his long fingers against his knee. "On that, I can say little. Her personage is shrouded in mystery, and as far as I can tell, she's never openly left the Sun Court. All I've heard is that she was a Court Mage in service of the previous Autarch, that she was born and raised in the Sun Court, and that Enik keeps her on a tight leash, consulting her or demanding her presence almost daily. What her relation to him is, or how exactly she achieved her new status, I cannot say." <<include "sibellaintro">>

Riel shakes his head. "That, I don't know. The politics of it all have been completely shrouded in the utmost secrecy; there are few outside the Sun Court who are even aware that this new position even exists." Then he adds darkly, "And it gets worse. There are also some rumors that she is now acting as Enik's Left Hand." "Left Hand?" you echo. "It is <i>rumored</i>," Riel stresses, "that every Autarch has always had, informally, a person who served as their Right Hand and their Left Hand. Their Right Hand was, in essence, their second-in-command, the person who they most trusted to act as a public extension and proxy for them; Enik himself, for example, was believed to be his mother's Right Hand in his position as Grand Inquisitor, carrying out many of her orders in an official capacity and being looked upon as the de-facto authority whenever the Autarch herself wasn't available. But there are even more whispers that a <i>Left Hand</i> exists, too: an absolutely trusted confidante of the Autarch's that moves on their behalf in secrecy, doing their will and bidding in the shadows while everyone's attention is drawn elsewhere. The existence and identity of the Left Hand has always been the cause of much anxiety, paranoia, and speculation in the Sun Court. You would never speak ill of the Autarch to her own firstborn son or her known Right Hand, of course. But if her Left Hand could be anywhere or anyone—a lowly guard, a young courtier whom she was never seen speaking to—how much more careful would you be, knowing that one of her most trusted advisors could be watching you, reporting back on your activities without your ever knowing the wiser?" You swallow. "And the rumor is that this Mage is Enik's Left Hand? <i>Enik</i>, the religious zealot who led the Inquisitors and allowed his death-squads to hunt down Diminished rebels… including innumerable Mages?" Riel shakes his head. "It's unfathomable, I know. But that's the current rumor." <<include "sibellaintro">>

Riel huffs impatiently. "I have some guesses," he says darkly, "but I haven't determined anything for sure. They certainly weren't just chocolates, though." He shakes his head and leans back. "I've used a mix of both Diviners and Binders to examine the box and try to determine what was in it. But whoever sent it—we must presume it was Sibella—was clever. She must have had some knowledge or suspicion of our wards and how they work, which was how she knew to send the package in with an unwitting carrier; not only would their lack of ill intentions fail to set off our alarms, but she added a double protection by making the spell undetectable, inert, and inactive <i>until the box was opened</i>, meaning the wards had an even lower chance of catching it until it was far too late. It would be like smuggling in an empty gun and its ammunition in two separate, harmless boxes rather than trying to come in with a loaded one. I'm told the vestiges of the curse imply an enormously talented and powerful mind behind the working. Whatever she intended, we would do well to be very cautious of her." <<include "sibellaintro">>

Riel is silent for a moment, frowning to himself. He seems… troubled, genuinely concerned, even more so than he had been in the labyrinth. "I don't know," he admits finally, his voice quiet and unusually uncertain. "The Tower neutralized it too efficiently for anyone to be able to tell. I'll continue to investigate, though the odds of me turning up anything else of use are slim. But…" His icy blue eyes meet yours from across the table. "We know two things. One: no person sends an innocent gift in the manner she did, so we have to operate under the assumption that Sibella de Vespe means to do you—or our entire Order—some kind of harm. The fact that she also seems to have the new Autarch's ear does not bode well for us: whether she was working directly on his orders or on her own, going up against an opponent with that kind of influence will be a daunting task, and does not present a kind forecast of how we'll fare in this new regime." You nod, turning this over in your mind. "And the second thing?" Riel's expression is pensive and grave. "Two," he says slowly, "she'll have expected the effects of her curse to take hold by now. When she realizes that she's been foiled, you can count on one thing: we haven't seen the last of her. Sooner or later, Sibella de Vespe is going to come looking. And I hope we'll be prepared to meet her when she does." <<page_break "End Chapter" "endchapter8screen">>

<div class="box"><span class="endchaptersummary"> <center><span class="heading">Mission Summary</span></center> <br> <span class="bulleticon"><span class="fas fa-chevron-right"></span></span>&emsp; Your return from Wallmire brought with it many changes and paradigm shifts. You decided to help Shery sort through items in the Tower's mystical underground Vaults as part of your downtime. Unfortunately, the arrival of a mysterious cursed package addressed to you triggered an ancient spell that had been lying dormant in the Vaults, sealing you and your party inside and detaching you from the rest of the structure as part of an automatic security measure. The only way out, you were told, was to prove your worthiness by entering the Labyrinth, an elaborate magical construction made by the creator of the security spell. <br><br><span class="bulleticon"><span class="fas fa-chevron-right"></span></span>&emsp; You, Shery, Riel, Chandry, and Mimir did your best to navigate the trials of the Labyrinth, which seemingly teleported you back to Haven's past, depositing you in the grand city of Magus over eight hundred years ago. As part of a delegation of Mages competing in the Crystal Tournament, you sought the chance to re-enter the Tower, which once housed a lauded school for Mages under the leadership of Archmage Tangriel. <br><br><span class="bulleticon"><span class="fas fa-chevron-right"></span></span>&emsp; You slew Tainted creatures in tests of strength and skill, played elaborate games of social cunning, and were charged to decipher a complex magical puzzle as part of the Crystal Tournament's trials. <<if $firstplace gte 3>>You even took first place in every test, a remarkable feat given that you were the only working Mage in your party. <</if>> <<if $maguswards is true>>You also managed to discern a small part of the ancient magic that controls the city of Haven itself. <</if>> <br><br><span class="bulleticon"><span class="fas fa-chevron-right"></span></span>&emsp; At the end of the tournament, you discovered that the entire gauntlet was an elaborate simulation created by Senua, Archmage Tangriel's head apprentice, time-forgotten muse, and clandestine lover. Senua—or rather, a magical echo of her past self—explained that the Labyrinth was an experimental project that she left behind in the Tower as part of her own legacy, after being forced to leave the school due to the politics surrounding her relationship with Archmage Tangriel. She informed you that your moral conduct throughout the trials actually mattered more to her than your physical performance: the Labryinth was meant to test a person's character and worthiness rather than their raw power. In light of this, <<if $trial gte 2>> you passed. <<else>> In light of this, you actually failed. <</if>> <br><br><span class="bulleticon"><span class="fas fa-chevron-right"></span></span>&emsp; <<if $trial gte 3>> Senua gave you a powerful amulet as a reward for passing her trials with flying colors. <</if>> <<if $trial gte 2 or $towerexit is true>> You were able to exit the Labyrinth through a secret magical passageway through the Tower that had gone undiscovered until now, returning to the present-day as victors rather than as failures in need of rescue. And who knows? Perhaps the mysteries of the Tower and what you found in its past will come in handy to you someday. One never knows... <<else>> As a result, Senua sent you back to the very Vault you had been sealed into at the start. You were forced to brute-force your way through the Tower's defenses in order to rejoin the rest of the world. Whether the damage you wrought to the ancient wards will have any effect down the road remains to be seen.<</if>> </span><span class="endchaptersummary2"></span></div> <br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "endchapter8levelup">> <<set $health to 100>> <<if $rank is "Commander">><<set $gold += 200>><<else>><<set $gold += 100>><</if>> <<if $trial gte 2>> <<if $trial gte 3 and $firstplace gte 3 and $towerexit is true>> <<achieve "achieve_towermaster">> <<setreputation +5>> <<set $rielstatus to "His respect for you has grown immensely, especially after you defeated the trials of the Labyrinth so thoroughly.">> <<set $sherystatus to "Her admiration has grown by leaps and bounds after your trials in the Labyrinth together.">> <<set $mimirstatus to "Her faith in you is strong, especially after you helped guide your party through the Labyrinth.">> <<set $chandry += 1>> <<else>> <<setreputation +3>> <<set $rielstatus to "His respect for you has grown since you faced the trials of the Labyrinth together.">> <<set $sherystatus to "She admires you deeply for your conduct in the Labyrinth.">> <<set $mimirstatus to "You're beginning to understand her better, especially as she became more lucid in the Labyrinth.">> <<set $chandry += 1>> <</if>> <<else>> <<set $rielstatus to "He's rather mortified by your experiences in the Labyrinth and would prefer not to talk about it.">> <<set $sherystatus to "She's dismayed that you failed the trials in the Labyrinth and feels obscurely like it's her fault.">> <<set $mimirstatus to "She's still an enigma to you. You think she feels the same way about you.">> <</if>> <</link>></center>

<<unset $reunioncompanion>> <<unset $enterthetower>> <<unset $saveeyvi>> <<unset $key>> <<unset $doubletrouble>> <<unset $nemekslain>> <<unset $threatencalixte>> <<unset $falsekey>> <<unset $shiko>> <<unset $failriddle>> <<unset $sim1>> <<unset $sim2>> <<unset $lit>> <<unset $rielguardian>> <<unset $sheryguardian>> <<unset $mimirguardian>> <<unset $chandryguardian>> <<unset $mcguardian>> <<unset $bespellediphiara>> <<unset $nemekslain>> <<unset $mctolerance>> <<unset $trial2points>> <<unset $drinks>> <<unset $drunk>> <<unset $dranks>> <<unset $talkedto>> <<unset $princec>> <<unset $rielhandhold>> <<unset $firstletter>> <<unset $secondletter>> <<unset $thirdletter>> <<unset $timer to 3>> <<unset $didone>> <<unset $correctcypher>> <div class="box"><span class="column-icon"><span class="endchaptericon"><i class="fas fa-coins"></i></span></span><span class="column-2"><span class="heading">Gold</span><br><<if $rank is "Commander">>You gained 200 deucalions as part of your Shepherd's pay. <<else>>You gained 100 deucalions as part of your Shepherd's pay.<</if>></span></div> <div class="box"><span class="column-icon"><span class="endchaptericon"><i class="fas fa-first-aid"></i></span></span><span class="column-2"><span class="heading">Health</span><br>Your health has been fully restored.</span></div> <<if $trial gte 3 and $firstplace gte 3 and $towerexit is true>><div class="box"><span class="column-icon"><span class="endchaptericon"><i class="fas fa-trophy"></i></span></span><span class="column-2"><span class="heading">Achievements</span><br>You unlocked a new <span class="entrylink">[[achievement|Achievements]]</span>: <b>Tower Master</b>.</span></div><</if>> <<page_break "Proceed to Next Mission" "startchapter85">>

This is the end of the current alpha build. If you'd like to leave feedback or discuss this content, please feel free to join the Discord's alpha build channel or leave a comment on Patreon! Thank you for reading!

<<nobr>> <<set $checkqq1 to false, $toldaboutqq to false, $elves to 50, $telltallys to false, $qqinvestigate to "", $askthelot to false, $houndlot to false, $seducecross to false, $childrenhalek to false, $turnriegar to false, $turnkerne to false, $needelvish to true>> <<if settings.music is true>><<audio "tuathaan" volume 0 fadeoverto 5 0.1>><</if>> <</nobr>> <span class="splash">A Few Days Later</span><span class="splashblur">A few days later, you're called to deploy on yet another mission. Thankfully, this one is in Haven, as Halek dryly informs you while you go over mission details in one of the meeting rooms: it'll be you, him, Lavinet, and Tallys <<nobr>><<if $rank is "Commander">> on the squad this time. <<else>> on the squad this time, with Tallys taking point as team leader. <</if>><</nobr>> "And it's a home-base mission," he says. "No traipsing off to some swamp, desert, or somewhere else in the middle of fuck-all nowhere this time." Briony, who's doing her own unrelated paperwork in the same room, glances up briefly. "Wouldn't 'fuck-all nowhere' also include the Reach?" "Right. Exactly." Lavinet has been waiting patiently to hear the details of the assignment, since there's only one parchment with the general overview and Tallys is still reading it over. "What exactly will we be doing?" she asks. <<nobr>><<if $tallys gte 65>> You lean over—Tallys tilts the paper towards you obligingly—and begin to read the briefing out loud. <<else>> You lean over and begin to read the briefing over Tallys's shoulder. <</if>><</nobr>> "Looks like there's something wrong with the heartwood tree in Ashtown," you note. "It's a tree of cultural and historical significance to the Elves who live in the area. Now they're submitting multiple reports a day insisting that the cause of the tree's sickness is the result of something unnatural. Doesn't specify if it's magic, Endarkened-related, or otherwise, but there's been enough public outcry that we're being sent to investigate." Halek raises a brow. "They're sending a whole squad of high-ranking officers for this? Why not some recruits?" "Apparently several patrols have already looked at it," you answer, scanning further down the page. "But they couldn't find anything wrong with it, at least not just by looking. But there's been enough insistence by the neighborhood residents claiming otherwise that Blade thought it was worth taking another look." "As he should," Tallys murmurs, her green eyes glinting coolly beneath her eyelashes as she reads the parchment over. "I recognize the names on this witness list. Many of them are wise, trusted elders, well-respected in their communities, and they know what they're about. If they say something supernatural is going on with the Great Tree, then they have good reason to believe so." Lavinet tilts her regal head; you're still growing used to its new lavender color, as she recently dyed it from her natural auburn. "What exactly is a heartwood tree," she asks, "and why is it so significant?" </span> <<include "HeartWoodTreeExplanation">>

<<nobr>><<if $heritage is "Elf">> You glance at Tallys to see if she would rather explain, but when she makes the Elven gesture for acquiescence, you're the one to proceed. <br><br> "Among the Elves, it's said that there are always a handful of trees that were <i>the first trees</i> in a forest, the oldest and wisest part of the wood. The forest had to start somewhere, after all, and so these particular trees are considered the ancestors or parents of its entire ecosystem, in that way, venerated and revered as sacred sites of ancient power as a result. Many Elven cities were constructed around or nearby the heartwood trees of their particular territory, or the local tribes and clans might make pilgrimage to their ancestral tree to pay homage to it on a cyclical basis. And because many Elves can… communicate with the trees, in a way, it's like visiting an old relative, paying respects to an elder. There's a very special relationship there." You try not to feel a secret pang in your chest at the thought. Vale had its own heartwood tree, whom your clan-members referred to as Old Mother Lanossë, and though it survived the events of your thirteenth birthday—being some distance away from your village—you could never hear its voice or take comfort from it the way a full-blooded Elf might have. <br><br> "During the Castigation, many heartwood trees were put to the torch," Tallys continues grimly, picking up the thread as you lapse into silence. "Or if they weren't, they had to be abandoned when the Elves fled their cities and were driven out of Thielwood by the Autarch's armies. But some refugees took saplings with them, and guarded those, and ferried them across the land, and one of them was planted here in Haven not long after the end of the war, as a reminder of home to the immigrants who came to live here. It's been growing here ever since, and has brought comfort to thousands of Elves. We call it <i>Qael-Qanaeon,</i> or '<i>old friend, standard-bearer, one who raises the flag</i>.'" <<else>> "Among the Elves, it's said that there are always a handful of trees that were <i>the first trees</i> in a forest, the oldest and wisest part of the wood. The forest had to start somewhere, after all, and so these particular trees are considered the ancestors or parents of its entire ecosystem, venerated and revered as sacred sites of ancient power," Tallys answers evenly. "Many Elven cities were constructed around their own heartwood trees, or the local tribes and clans might make pilgrimage to their ancestral tree to pay homage to it as the seasons turned. Because we can hear the song of the trees, and understand them, it would be like visiting a relative or an elder to you. It's a very sacred relationship, not often discussed or understood by outsiders." Although her tone is even and neutral, you can sense she's gauging Lavinet for any hints of mockery or derision. When none is forthcoming, she continues, "During the Castigation, many heartwood trees were put to the torch. Or if they weren't, they had to be abandoned when the Elves fled their cities and were driven out of Thielwood by the Autarch's armies. But some refugees took saplings with them, and guarded those, and ferried them across the land, and one of them was planted here in Haven not long after the end of the war, as a reminder of home to the immigrants who came to live here. It's been growing here ever since, and has brought comfort to thousands of Elves. We call it <i>Qael-Qanaeon,</i> or '<i>old friend, standard-bearer, one who raises the flag</i>.'" <</if>><</nobr>> "Quite a mouthful," Halek observes dryly. "It sounds like our abramic oaks, which form our Mornhaven Gate, and which the priests say cradled the first Hunters when Narthax shaped them from the mountains or the clouds or whatever codswallop they like to believe. I can't imagine the uproar that would happen if those trees were to grow sick. We'd probably think it was demonic meddling, too." Lavinet nods slowly. "I see. So our task is to go to Elftown, inspect this tree, and see if there's anything we can do to help it, assuming that such a thing would fall under our jurisdiction?" Tallys looks at her sharply. "<i>Elftown</i>?" Briony looks up from her paperwork, while Lavinet stiffens, clearly sensing that she's misstepped but not understanding how. "Is that not the name for it?" she asks, for once sounding uncertain. "I heard Trouble calling it such, so I…" Elftown <i>is</i> the name that citizens of Haven use to refer to that neighborhood, which is populated almost exclusively by Elves; <<nobr>><<if $heritage is "Elf">> though you've heard many Elves referring to it as Little Sylfaen or the Elven Quarter, now that you think about it. <<else>> you've never heard anyone call it any differently, either. <</if>><</nobr>> But Tallys makes her affront clear as she says curtly, "In the same way we don't call Ashtown 'Witchtown,' it's not appropriate to call the Elven Quarter 'Elftown.'" Lavinet blanches, but she holds her head high as she returns, "I'm sorry. I didn't know." Awkward silence falls over the table before Briony says brightly, "I didn't know that, either! You learn something new every day, huh?" Tallys shoots her an indecipherable look, but it's enough to keep the conversation going as you move on to talking logistics. As Tallys and Lavinet depart to arm themselves and change into their uniforms—avoiding each other's gaze as they silently dance around who should exit through the doorway first—Halek hangs back for a moment, staring idly up at the ceiling. Briony turns wide, mortified eyes towards you and says in a loud stage-whisper, "I thought they would have gotten along better once Lavi joined the Order, but things haven't exactly improved between them, have they?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Brush it off. "It was just an awkward moment, nothing more."</div>' 'autogenerated_686346'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Shake your head. "This does not bode well for the mission."</div>' 'autogenerated_686347'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Shrug. "As long as they can work together as professionals, I don't care if they're friends."</div>' 'autogenerated_686348'>><<setloyal +1>><<setcompassionate -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Make a joke. "If it devolves into a fight, Halek and I can turn a profit taking bets."</div>' 'autogenerated_686349'>><<sethalek +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Side with Lavinet. "It wasn't Lavinet's fault. She's new to the city, and she was going off of what Trouble said. She didn't know better."</div>' 'autogenerated_686350'>><<setlavinet +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Side with Tallys. "It's right that Tallys said something. Lavinet should pay more attention to these things; it was her ancestors who put the Elves in Little Sylfaen in the first place, so the least she could do is be more mindful when how she talks about it."</div>' 'autogenerated_686351'>><<settallys +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Briony pulls a face. "I hope you're right." <<include 'ArmingForMission'>>

Briony cranks on a forced smile. "I'm sure it will be fine!…" <<include 'ArmingForMission'>>

Briony heaves a sigh. "I suppose that's the most practical way to look at it." <<include 'ArmingForMission'>>

The Hunter turns his gray eyes towards you, poker-faced. "I put my money on Tallys," he says simply. "Lavinet's got the build, but Tallys is fueled by female rage and hatred." Briony heaves a sigh. "This isn't the gladiator's arena, you know." <<include 'ArmingForMission'>>

"I know," Briony says earnestly. "It was an honest mistake. But I can see Tallys's viewpoint, too. She already feels like Lavinet is here for self-serving purposes, trying to escape demands to marry her, and that she's still coasting on the privileges of her life—privileges she received as a direct result of her ancestors hurting <i>Tallys's</i> people, using wealth they accrued through an aristocratic system built directly on the spoils of the Castigation. And then when Lavinet says something insensitive… it just rubs more astringent in the wound." <<include 'ArmingForMission'>>

"I know," Briony sighs. "And I understand why Tallys feels sore about it all—but while Tallys still remembers the Castigation like it was only a few years ago, Lavinet wasn't born until, what, more than one-hundred and seventy-five years after the war? Is it really fair to hold her accountable for something she didn't do?" <<include 'ArmingForMission'>>

Halek grunts and swings his lanky body out of his chair. "What a pain," he remarks, dragging himself reluctantly out of the room. "Let's just go see this tree. With any luck, it'll be a fairly simple case to solve and then we can all go back to pretending those two don't hate each other." <<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "WeekendOff">><<if settings.music is true>><<audio ":playing" fadeout>><</if>><</link>> /* You have a few days off before you're set to head to the Elven Quarter with the others. <<page_break "Next" "dayoff">> Also Lovelace Day... */

<<nobr>><<if settings.music is true>><<audio "elvenquarter" volume 0 fadeoverto 15 0.08>><</if>><</nobr>>The reality, of course, proves to be the exact opposite of what you'd hoped. You head down to the Elven Quarter with the others, northwest of where the compound is located in Ashtown. It's a pleasant walk, with the mercantile braying and traffic din of the city gradually fading to a quieter, more tolerable rumble as you travel deeper and deeper into the neighborhood, the street lamps and poles wreathed in floral garlands and the impeccable artisan workshops and vytas cafes creating a well-kempt, minimalist view of the streets. Somewhere, high sweet music from a stringed instrument drifts from an open window; signs in several tongues, Elvish the most prominent, invite weary citizens into sparkling bathhouses, illustrious bookshops, quiet promenades, and pristine parks. Nearby, several passerby quietly peruse the stalls of a produce market overspilling with shining, perfect fruit, browsing in a manner reminiscent of a silent auction. In fact, all of the streets here seem oddly peaceful; many Elves dressed in traditional garb walk in a stately fashion, hold conversations with their neighbors in a sedate manner, and above all—they never raise their voices or argue. Halek eyes his surroundings with appreciation. "I could get used to this," he says. Tallys smiles slightly, but she's all business as she replies, "It is a tranquil scene, to be sure, but as officers, we shouldn't forget that it poses its own inconveniences. Do not forget that many of my people do not perceive time the way you do. They are concerned with artistry, with courtesy, and with perfection, because they have the time to care about such things; many you'll encounter abide by strict rules, including that which preserves the music of a conversation rather than rushing through it. As such, please remember that it's considered rude to ask direct questions to strangers. You may get away with it when it comes to younger, more assimilated folk, but to the elders, who are more insulated in this community, it would seem uncouth." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Even in the course of police work?"</div>' 'ElvishPoliteness'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"But you don't follow those rules, do you, Tallys?"</div>' 'TallysExplanation'>><</link>> <<if $heritage is "Elf">><<link '<div class="heritage-item">"We can always invoke <i>valenwë</i>, can't we?"</div>' 'ValenweExplanation'>><<settallys +1>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"What? That's ridiculous."</div>' 'RidiculousResponse'>><<settallys -5>><<setcharisma -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You seem very familiar with the people who live here."</div>' 'TallysFamiliar'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Tallys nods. "Yes, most of the time, even then. We do have another mode of speech for emergencies, called War Manners, which is how I speak to you most of the time. This allows us to ask direct questions and drop the ceremonial niceties that tend to slow down our more formal conversations. But to address an elder with War Manners, you have to wait for them to do it first: not initiate it yourself. To do so would be considered offensive." "Wait," Halek interrupts, "<i>why</i> exactly is it so offensive?" The Elf shrugs lightly. "To our people, asking a direct question demands an answer from the recipient. It's… aggressive, or perhaps entitled: you're imposing your will on them and forcing them to respond in the way you want them to. Phrasing it more indirectly gives them the freedom to not answer if they don't want to. For example, if you were to say, 'What do you think of my cooking?', it might place someone in a very awkward position, forcing them to answer you or to lie. But if you were to say something like, 'It is always one's hope to favor their guests with a good meal,' you're… allowing them to respond however they like, including simply letting your comment pass." "How would you find out information such as where someone grew up, then?" Lavinet asks then. "Since it seems that directly asking would be perceived as intrusive." Tallys nods. "You might offer up your own information first—'I grew up in Orgael'—and give them the opportunity to reciprocate. Or you might open with a simple comment: 'You seem very well-traveled' or 'Your accent is pleasing.' Then it would be up to them to go where you were leading, or redirect the topic elsewhere." "Hmm," the Hunter grumbles. "Seems a bit overcomplicated to me." Tallys laughs, seemingly unoffended. "When you live for hundreds of years," she says, "you find that overcomplicating things is necessary. Adding more and more rules and considerations and perfections over time keeps you occupied. Otherwise life becomes very dull and unchallenging. There are other modes of speech, too: Court Manners and Clan Manners and many more. It would take too long to explain the intricacies of them all." <<nobr>><<if ($tallyssex is true and $tallysromanceflag >= 20) or ($tallysromance is true and $tallysromanceflag >= 20)>> <br><br> She speaks with a light enough tone, but somehow you can still sense that she's anxious about something. Clearly this mission hits close to home for her. You can't touch her right now, not so obviously in front of Halek and Lavinet, so you settle with catching her eye and imparting some measure of assurance and comfort through your gaze. Tallys seems to understand your meaning, because she gives you the ghost of an appreciative smile before looking away. <</if>> <</nobr>> <<include "ImmenasePlaza">>

"No," she answers levelly, "but that is because I'm around you for the majority of the time. Elvish social niceties dictate that we use formal language and certain protocols with each other—such as bowing, gestures—a mode of being referred to as <i>carenwë</i>, or Formal Manners. But in times of emergency or crisis, we acknowledge that such protocols cannot always be observed, so we have another mode of speech: War Manners, or <i>valenwë</i>, which allows us to ask direct questions and skip past ceremonial necessities. To better assimilate with non-Elven society and for simplicity's sake, I use War Manners when speaking to all of you." "Does that mean you treat us as if we're in a state of emergency all of the time?" Halek asks sardonically. Tallys smiles thinly. "Isn't it typically true?" <<nobr>><<if ($tallyssex is true and $tallysromanceflag >= 20) or ($tallysromance is true and $tallysromanceflag >= 20)>> <br><br> She speaks with a light enough tone, but somehow you can still sense that she's anxious about something. Clearly this mission hits close to home for her. You can't touch her right now, not so obviously in front of Halek and Lavinet, so you settle with catching her eye and imparting some measure of assurance and comfort through your gaze. Tallys seems to understand your meaning, because she gives you the ghost of an appreciative smile before looking away. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "ImmenasePlaza">>

Among the Elves, the two most common modes of speech are <i>carenwë</i>—Formal Manners—and <i>valenwë</i>, War Manners. The vast majority of Elves use <i>carenwë</i> on an exclusive basis, cloaking their words in layers of courtesy and ceremony, but in times of warfare, emergency, or crisis, such protocols can be dropped in favor of more direct, plainer speech. Having grown rusty at <i>carenwë</i>, it would be vastly easier for you to use War Manners, which is what you and Tallys use to talk every day. Tallys, however, says, "We could, but I think we would have to wait for the elders to do so themselves first. If we were to slip into War Manners with them, without giving any forewarning, we could cause them grave offense." "Wait," Halek interrupts, "<i>why</i> exactly is it so offensive?" The Elf shrugs lightly. "To our people, asking a direct question demands an answer from the recipient. It's… aggressive, or perhaps entitled: you're imposing your will on them and forcing them to respond in the way you want them to. Phrasing it more indirectly gives them the freedom to not answer if they don't want to. For example, if you were to say, 'What do you think of my cooking?', it might place someone in a very awkward position, forcing them to answer you or to lie. But if you were to say something like, 'It is always one's hope to favor their guests with a good meal,' you're… allowing them to respond however they like, including simply letting your comment pass." "How would you find out information such as where someone grew up, then?" Lavinet asks then. "Since it seems that directly asking would be perceived as intrusive." Tallys nods. "You might offer up your own information first—'I grew up in Orgael'—and give them the opportunity to reciprocate. Or you might open with a simple comment: 'You seem very well-traveled' or 'Your accent is pleasing.' Then it would be up to them to go where you were leading, or redirect the topic elsewhere." "Hmm," the Hunter grumbles. "Seems a bit overcomplicated to me." Tallys laughs, seemingly unoffended. "When you live for hundreds of years," she says, "you find that overcomplicating things is necessary. Adding more and more rules and considerations and perfections over time keeps you occupied. Otherwise life becomes very dull and unchallenging. There are other modes of speech, too: Court Manners and Clan Manners and many more. It would take too long to explain the intricacies of them all." <<nobr>><<if ($tallyssex is true and $tallysromanceflag >= 20) or ($tallysromance is true and $tallysromanceflag >= 20)>> She speaks with a light enough tone, but somehow you can still sense that she's anxious about something. Clearly this mission hits close to home for her. You can't touch her right now, not so obviously in front of Halek and Lavinet, so you settle with catching her eye and imparting some measure of assurance and comfort through your gaze. Tallys seems to understand your meaning, because she gives you the ghost of an appreciative smile before looking away. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "ImmenasePlaza">>

Tallys says nothing for a moment, her expression impassive and shuttered under a mask of composed stiffness. Finally she simply says, "You may think so, but that's the reality of the witnesses that we'll be dealing with. If you care about conducting a successful investigation, it's something you'll keep in mind. We do have another mode of speech for emergencies, called War Manners, which is how I speak to you most of the time. This allows us to ask direct questions and drop the ceremonial niceties that tend to slow down our more formal conversations. But to address an elder with War Manners, you have to wait for them to do it first: not initiate it yourself. To do so would be considered offensive." <<include "ImmenasePlaza">>

Tallys nods slowly. "It's a tight-knit community," she notes, "and I lived here for a while before joining the Shepherds." She looks vaguely around at the quiet, serene neighborhood. "But ultimately, I grew restless. It felt too… easy. Like a veneer, in a way—a pretense. It was hard to truly believe in the peace when I knew that there were people being killed by Endarkened within these walls—sometimes in these very streets—night after night." Then she shakes her head. "But that's beside the point. You should know that we do have another mode of speech for emergencies, called War Manners, which is how I speak to you most of the time. This allows us to ask direct questions and drop the ceremonial niceties that tend to slow down our more formal conversations. But to address an elder with War Manners, you have to wait for them to do it first: not initiate it yourself. To do so would be considered offensive." <<include "ImmenasePlaza">>

Finally, you arrive at an immense, open plaza, a kind of central hub where several broad avenues connect in one nexus, with dozens of storefronts, residential buildings, and restaurants wedged between the spokes of the urban wheel. All of them face Qael-Qanaeon, the great heartwood tree. You've never had cause to visit this particular district before, but you've seen the top of Qael-Qanaeon from various vantage points higher up in the city. At that distance, the tree always made for an impressive sight, the huge green umbrella of it shading the entire plaza, regardless of the season, its gold-brown boughs sometimes heavy with enormous, melon-sized flowers or small bobbing fruit. It's as tall as a three-story building, and in a normal state, you can see how it would be a grandiose sight indeed, featuring soft bark in various tones of alabaster, cream brown, and pale gold; gold-tinged green leaves; and an air of ancient, ponderous wisdom as it towered over the Elven Quarter like some kind of silent titanic sentry. At this exact moment, however, the tree is looking rather… anemic. You can't quite explain it, but even with its gargantuan size, something about it seems withered and frail, the gleam of the pale trunk somehow dulled, the branches almost seeming to retreat and curl inward rather than reaching strongly towards the sky. Tallys sucks in a hurt breath, as if someone had punched her. Halek sniffs the air and remarks thoughtfully: "Hmmm." You have no time to comment on the state of the tree, however, because at that moment, an Elf of indiscriminate age (perhaps around Tallys's age, or a little older) dressed in the rich, traditional robes of Sylfaen approaches you, tucking his hands into his sleeves as he sweeps <<nobr>><<if $heritage is "Elf">> a bow reserved for respected figures of authority, such as lawmen and knights. His long silvery hair falls in a beautiful curtain around his face. <<else>> a bow, his long silvery hair falling in a beautiful curtain around his face. <</if>><</nobr>> "Shepherds," he says in a musical voice. <<nobr>><<if $heritage is "Elf">> He's one of those classic Thielwood Elves, fine-boned and delicate-faced—almost as pretty as glass. <<else>> He's fine-boned, delicate-faced—almost as pretty as glass. <</if>><</nobr>> "We welcome you to our Quarter, and your assistance is gladly received." Tallys's eyes light in recognition, and she returns the bow. "Denan," she says in greeting. Clearly the two of them know each other. She turns to you and says, "This is Denanuel Lithdel, of the House of Lithdel. He is the Keeper for his clan, and a preeminent scholar and tea artisan. Denan, this is <<c rank>> <<c firstname>> <<c surname>>, the one they call the Hero of Haven; Captain Halek Prince, <i>sol</i> of the Reach; and Captain Lavinet Naveen, heiress of the Lockwood fiefdom." Lavinet sweeps a formal curtsy; Halek nods. If "Denan" is surprised to find himself in such prestigious company, his smooth face gives no sign of it. <<nobr>> <<if $heritage is "Elf">> You are positive, however, that word of your identities will soon reach the ears of everyone in the neighborhood: the Elves may move at an unhurried pace, but somehow, their chain of gossip moves lightning-fast. <</if>> <</nobr>> He merely bows again, not diffident but regal, like an ambassador welcoming an equal, and says, "You honor us with your presences, <<c rank>> <<c surname>>, Captain Prince, Captain Naveen. In fact, we have anticipated your company so eagerly that I was sent to watch for your arrival. It would please me greatly if you would follow me to my father's house. It is he who can provide you with the most information regarding our… current worries." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Please, lead the way."</div>' 'denan_leads_the_way'>><<set $elves += 5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Hold on a moment. I want to have a closer look at the tree."</div>' 'closer_look_at_tree'>><<setloyal +1>><<setcourage +1>><<setcharisma -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"How do you two know each other?"</div>' 'how_two_know_each_other'>><<settallys -1>><<setcharisma -1>><<setloyal -1>><<set $elves -= 5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You two seem to be familiar with each other."</div>' 'familiar_with_each_other'>><<settallys +1>><<setcharisma +1>><<set $elves += 3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Although Tallys's expression remains mostly placid, her eyes dart at you in a silent reprimand; you've broken the policy of not asking direct questions already. Denan, however, gives no reaction as he replies, "Tallys and I have been acquainted since our childhood. Since she is the Keeper of House Ironwood and I the Keeper of House Lithdel, we've had various occasions to meet over the years." <i>Is</i>, you notice. Denan refers to Tallys's status as Keeper of her House in the present tense, and you wonder if there's some subtle meaning to this. <<nobr>><<if ($tallysromanceflag >= 20) or ($tallys >= 70)>> The Elven archer blinks hard, but gives no sign of what she makes of it. <</if>><</nobr>> "And he and his father were my neighbors, when I was living here in the Quarter," Tallys adds. "It will be good to see Ashaniel'ir again; I have missed his insight." "As he has missed having your presence in our household," Denan returns warmly. "He and I squabble too much. Your company always tempered us." <<nobr>><<if ($tallysromance is true) or ($tallyssex is true)>> Tallys laughs, and you can't help but feel the spark of something… uncomfortable. Did they ever…? <<else>> It's a rather strange conversation to be having, given the circumstances, but you suppose this is the lack of urgency and insistence on the art of courtesy that Tallys was talking about. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "denan_leads_the_way">>

Denan nods. "Tallys and I have been acquainted since our childhood. Since she is the Keeper of House Ironwood and I the Keeper of House Lithdel, we've had various occasions to meet over the years." <i>Is</i>, you notice. Denan refers to Tallys's status as Keeper of her House in the present tense, and you wonder if there's some subtle meaning to this. <<nobr>><<if ($tallysromanceflag >= 20) or ($tallys >= 70)>> The Elven archer blinks hard, but gives no sign of what she makes of it. <</if>><</nobr>> "And he and his father were my neighbors, when I was living here in the Quarter," Tallys adds. "It will be good to see Ashaniel'ir again; I have missed his insight." "As he has missed having your presence in our household," Denan returns warmly. "He and I squabble too much. Your company always tempered us." <<nobr>><<if ($tallysromance is true) or ($tallyssex is true)>> Tallys laughs, and you can't help but feel the spark of something… uncomfortable. Did they ever…? <<else>> It's a rather strange conversation to be having, given the circumstances, but you suppose this is the lack of urgency and insistence on the art of courtesy that Tallys was talking about. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "denan_leads_the_way">>

Lavinet arches a brow at you, though Tallys gives no discernible reaction as she replies, "Of course." Denan adds evenly, "At the risk of seeming unmannerly, I find myself compelled to warn you: please exercise every caution upon approaching Qael-Qanaeon. I trust in your abilities, but to many folk who live here, the Great Tree is revered, almost to a religious degree. The teams who were sent before you were as respectful as they could be, and yet… the frailer Qael-Qanaeon becomes, the more protective some others here become as well. There are some who would bar any further handling of the tree by… outsiders, as previous investigations have not helped." "Or, to some folk, made things worse?" Halek asks shrewdly. Denan's face is impassive again, but he inclines his head in an ambiguous gesture, as if to say, <i>As you like</i>. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'll be careful."</div>' 'examine_tree'>><<setcharisma +1>><<setcompassionate +1>><<settallys +1>><<set $elves += 3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I can't damn well figure out what's wrong with it if I can't touch it, can I?"</div>' 'examine_tree_rudely'>><<setcharisma -2>><<setcompassionate -1>><<setcourage +1>><<settallys -2>><<set $elves -= 5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Nod and approach the tree.</div>' 'examine_tree'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Tallys looks at you sharply, but Denan only bows again; you can't tell if there's irony laced in the gesture or not. <<include "examine_tree">>

<<nobr>><<if settings.music is true>><<audio "elvenquarter" stop>><<audio "thetree" volume 0.5 fadeoverto 5 0.08>><</if>><</nobr>>You approach Qael-Qanaeon, Lavinet and Halek following you closely while Tallys hangs back to speak to Denan. Lavinet looks a little lost, her gloved hands clasped in front of her, while Halek has a queer expression on his face—almost as if he's caught a whiff of something unpleasant. <<nobr>><<if ($specialization is "elementalist") and ($astral >= 50)>> As an Elementalist, you are the best-equipped to examine the energies and life-force of this tree. <</if>> <<if (($astral >= 65) and ($magic >= 70)) or (($specialization is "elementalist") and ($astral >= 50))>> <<set $checkqq1 to true>> You lay your hand on the soft, yielding trunk—surprisingly unscarred and pristine for something so old—and send out an investigative pulse of your magic. Almost immediately, understanding and biofeedback bounces back at you, and you can't help the little hiss of alarm as you process what it is you're sensing. <br><br> Qael-Qanaeon is <i>dying</i>. You sense sickness, poison and blight, seething beneath its surface like a cancerous mass. The tree is so large and hardy that it has yet to show the full extent of its decay on the outside… but <i>inside</i>, the disease is rampant and far-spreading, extending to every leaf, branch, and root. Your heart sinks into your gut as you realize that the tree might be too far gone to save… As with a patient on their deathbed, there may be nothing left to do except to wait for the inevitable. <br><br> Lavinet, watching your expression, says alertly, "What is it? Can you sense something?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Keep your cards close to the chest. "I'm not sure what I'm sensing yet."</div>' 'keep_information_to_yourself'>><<sethalek -2>><<setlavinet -2>><<setcunning +1>><<setloyal -3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Be brutally honest. "This tree is dying. It'll be completely dead within the month."</div>' 'be_brutally_honest'>><<setloyal +3>><<setlavinet +1>><<sethalek +1>><<setcunning -1>><<set $toldaboutqq to true>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <<else>> Carefully, you lay a hand against the tree, examining its unscarred, pristine bark closely, gripping branches and holding fallen leaves up to the faded springtime light. However, your inspection turns up nothing more than a vague sense that the tree simply doesn't seem as healthy as it could be, so ultimately you give up and turn back to Tallys and Denan. Hopefully your investigation will uncover other avenues of information soon. <br><br> <<page_break "Next" "denan_leads_the_way">> <</if>><</nobr>>

No point in inciting a panic when you don't have all the pieces to the puzzle yet. The two of them give you skeptical looks, but are unable to press further; Tallys, who seems reluctant to approach Qael-Qanaeon at the moment, calls, "If you're ready, it's better not to keep Denan's father waiting." You nod curtly and turn away from the tree, acting as if it's business as usual. But the knowledge of what you've just learned lodges a rock in your throat. <<page_break "Next" "denan_leads_the_way">>

Thankfully, Tallys isn't there to see how Lavinet and Halek's heads swivel towards you. "What?" Lavinet cries. "But… why?" You frown to yourself. "I… I'm not sure," you admit. "I can only tell that the sickness is <i>there</i>, not what caused it. But it doesn't look like any natural disease that I've ever seen." "Can you use magic to cure it?" Halek asks. "Or if not you, perhaps another Mage, an Elementalist or a plant-Mage who specializes in this kind of thing?" Therein lies the question. "I'm not sure," you say again, slowly, thinking hard. You're reluctant to say it definitively, but… "My guess is that it's too far gone for even magic to help. We can sometimes purge sickness from things, but only if there's more healthy tissue than dead, and when the native system is still able to bounce back and help fight the infection alongside us. I can't say for sure, but this tree might not be strong enough to recover, even if we were to somehow burn the corruption out of it: there isn't enough 'untouched' parts to it to rally, maybe. There's always a threshold where a patient is beyond helping: some point where the poison has progressed too far, infiltrated too much of their body, or they've been too weakened by their wounds and will succumb no matter what we do. At this point, using magic on the tree may be more like… reversing the flow of time, or subverting death itself. Not even Mages can do that." The other two are silent for a while, absorbing this. Finally Halek stirs and says quietly, "If it were me, I'd keep that knowledge to myself until we learn more. If the Elves around here find out their sacred tree is dying, there might be wide-scale unrest—or even another Uprising on our hands." You nod grimly. "I'll keep this under wraps, at least until we understand what caused the tree to sicken this way. If it's a natural thing, then no one's to blame." "But you don't think it is, do you?" Lavinet says softly. "A natural thing? You said it doesn't look like anything you've ever seen before. But if our investigation uncovers that someone or something is at fault…" The three of you collectively shudder at the thought. But just then, Tallys calls, "If you're ready, let's not keep Denan's father waiting." Throwing a glance at the others, you nod and turn away from the tree, inwardly uneasy but outwardly acting like it's business as usual. However, the knowledge of what you've just learned lodges a rock in your throat. <<page_break "Next" "denan_leads_the_way">>

<<nobr>><<if settings.music is true>><<audio ":playing" fadeout>><</if>><</nobr>> Denan turns and leads you just a few steps out of the plaza, towards a fine two-story residence that would seem a rare sight anywhere else in Ashtown. The high-walled front garden is overflowing with plants, ivy artfully climbing the walls as well as the house's portico. A wooden pergola shades an exquisitely-crafted iron tea table, which itself is situated near a flowerbed bursting with hydrangeas and stock and gillyflowers. Everything here is impeccable, manicured, and almost obsessively aesthetic; the hedges practically look as if they've been gone over with a set of tweezers, not a single leaf out of place. Lavinet all but croons in approval. You're so busy marveling at the level of detail in this garden that you almost don't realize that someone is already sitting in it, positioned beneath the pergola and looking as still and refined as a marble statue. An Elf with the same silvery hair as Denan's, though shoulder-length rather than chest. His face is an almost-perfect mirror-image of his son's, save for lower cheekbones, a longer nose, and a single crease between his fine brows. Although his face seems ageless, a look of relaxed, serene wisdom looks out from his dark brown eyes. If you saw him in the street and were forced to hazard a guess, you'd think he was in his forties, which means that in relation to non-Elves, he must be quite old indeed. Tallys spots him and immediately gives him a graceful, curious bow you haven't seen her make before, bending deep at the waist with her hand over her heart. <<nobr>><<if $heritage is "Elf">> It's a gesture reserved for those of great authority, deserving of the highest respect: certainly a clan elder, though a degree or two deeper would have befitted a prince or a king. From her bow alone you deduce that this man must be the Speaker for House Lithdel—its leader, ruling power, and primary representative to outsiders—and that the House itself must be one of significant prominence among the Elves. <</if>><</nobr>> "Ashaniel'ir," Tallys says formally. "<i>Aya lani eth k'nai</i>—the gods smile on this meeting. It has been too long." The other Elf smiles faintly, though he doesn't rise from his seat to return her bow, only nodding. You notice belatedly that an elegantly-carved cane is propped against the table, near his left hand: perhaps his leg troubles him. "Though not so long that we have forgotten the gladness of your coming, Tallys'ar," he returns, his voice deeper and more resonant than his son's. "Well met. Be welcome in my home and at my hearth." He bids your party to sit around the round tea table with him, Danen stepping away to prepare refreshments, and thus follows a lengthy dance of Elven politeness, introductions and stately conversation being exchanged in a calm, steady fashion. Ashaniel discusses everything from the weather to his garden to updates on various personages around the Elven Quarter with you and Tallys, giving no sign that he's remotely aware of the true reasons for your visit. He even politely inquires—in a circuitous, indirect way—about your opinions of Haven, how you're liking your living quarters, what you think of various writers and poets and artists (though many of the ones he mentions precedes your time). At least half an hour passes in this manner, until you're all about squirming in your seat from discomfort and impatience. Halek remains hood-eyed and mostly silent, occasionally sharply suppressing a yawn; but to your surprise, Lavinet is able to partake in the conversation with the same grace and fluidity that she navigates courtly affairs with, politely remarking on just the right things in what seems to be the expected tone of voice. Several times Ashaniel inclines his head towards her and says something along the lines of "Just so," or "Well said." Although his true thoughts are subsumed beneath the mask of Elven formality, you think you detect shades of approval in his attitude toward her. Eventually Denan returns with a tray full of tiny, ornate porcelain cups—again, all incredibly-crafted—filled with a wheat-colored tea. Taking a sip, you discover that it's quite a subtle flavor: warm, almost floury somehow, like freshly-baked bread. Somehow it also reminds you of honey, though it's unsweetened, and there's a soft biting undertaste of something else you can't quite identify. "The Elves are quite fanatic about the art of tea and its brewing," Tallys remarks, seemingly for your benefit. "Having perfected it first among all the Children of Light. But Denan is an acknowledged master on top of all that. Some people travel from far and wide to consult him on the craft." "Perhaps you would favor us with your opinion of this blend," Ashaniel adds. "It would be gratifying to hear the insight of one who is not as entrenched in the art of tea as our household tends to be. After that, we can talk of more necessary things." <i>Finally</i>, you think. And yet, from the way this non-question is posed—and from the way that Denan is watching you closely from across the table—you sense somehow that this might be a test of some sort. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"It's... uh... it's... it tastes like... bread?"</div>' 'tea_response_poor'>><<setcharisma -5>><<setintelligence -1>><<set $elves -= 5>><</link>> <<if ($charisma >= 50) and ($intelligence >= 50)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I like it. It tastes subtle, but pleasant and homely, almost as if I were being welcomed home."</div>' 'tea_response_excellent'>><<setintelligence +1>><<setcharisma +1>><<settallys +1>><<set $elves += 5>><<setlavinet +1>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($charisma < 50) or ($intelligence < 50)>><div class="inactive-item">"I like it. It tastes subtle, but pleasant and homely, almost as if I were being welcomed home."</div><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm not a fan. Tastes like boiled grass."</div>' 'tea_response_rude'>><<settallys -5>><<setcharisma -5>><<setcourage +1>><<setcompassionate -1>><<sethalek +1>><<set $elves -= 10>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'd rather not comment on tea, thanks."</div>' 'tea_response_refuse'>><<sethalek +2>><<setcourage +1>><<setcharisma -3>><<settallys -1>><<setloyal -1>><<set $elves -= 3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Unfortunately, I'm not a connoisseur of tea. Whatever opinion I could give would pale in the company of such masters."</div>' 'tea_response_modesty'>><<setcharisma +2>><<setlavinet +1>><<settallys +1>><<set $elves += 3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if (($tallysromance is true) or ($tallyssex is true)) or ($tallysromanceflag >= 5)>> <<set $tallysromanceflag -= 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> Tallys, normally so composed, grimaces at you, but Ashaniel merely nods and turns to your companions. "I see. Thank you for your thoughts." <<include "tea_commentary">>

Denan's dark eyes practically light up, while Ashaniel makes a gesture that could be read as approving. "Just so," he says, smiling slightly. "In fact, the name of the blend is called <i>Lenna</i>, which means 'homecoming.' It was created specifically to indicate to guests that they were welcome in the place where they drank it, so your instincts are impressively accurate on that count." <<include "tea_commentary">>

<<nobr>><<if (($tallysromance is true) or ($tallyssex is true)) or ($tallysromanceflag >= 5)>> <<set $tallysromanceflag -= 5>> <</if>><</nobr>> Tallys, normally so composed, shoots you a galled look, as if you've gone insane. Ashaniel, however, merely nods as if he had expected this kind of response. "I see," he says politely, though Denan seems to be studying the depths of his tea cup with great concentration, his expression unreadable. "Thank you for your thoughts." <<include "tea_commentary">>

Tallys, normally so composed, grimaces at you, but Ashaniel merely nods and turns to your companions. "I see. Perhaps someone else would care to share their thoughts." <<include "tea_commentary">>

Ashaniel nods thoughtfully before turning to your companions. "I see. Perhaps someone else would care to share their thoughts, then." <<include "tea_commentary">>

Halek, well versed in the culinary arena, remarks, "I get notes of saffron, chamomile, barley, and something that could be buckwheat or maybe brown rice. It's an interesting blend. It doesn't have the body of a cured-leaf tea, but perhaps that's the point." Lavinet, when Ashaniel and Denan look to her, adds modestly, "Yes, I think that must be the intention, for the tea's subtlety allows the interplay of flavors to bloom more fully on the tongue. The illusion of sweetness, along with the complex hot finish, makes this an excellent warming tea, perfect for the transition between winter and spring, where flavors ought to be coaxed towards their summer intensity while not overwhelming the palate." You raise your brows at her, and Lavinet makes an involuntary motion with her wrist, as if habitually flicking out her absent fan; as such, she can't mask her look of triumph as Ashaniel and Denan nod with deep approval. Even Tallys looks impressed. "Excellent descriptions, indeed," Ashaniel says, addressing Tallys now. "You keep incisive company, Tallys'ar." She smiles. "All the more reason for my confidence that we can solve this case, Ashaniel'ir," she replies. She makes an elegant motion—not quite a shrug, but an indication that the subject is about to change. "But the question of how best to do so has been on our minds all morning. Perhaps you can assist us in this." From there, the conversation shifts, invisibly and without fanfare, into what Tallys would call War Manners, giving you tacit permission to drop the formalities and ask questions as you need to. "We are not sure when it began," Denan says, picking up the thread of the conversation. "Qael-Qanaeon has its keepers, but they need only maintain to it once every two moon-turns. But during their latest inspection, they discovered that the tree was ailing. The cause for its sickness has not been uncovered, and upon asking Qael-Qanaeon itself, the tree was already losing its strength, falling silent the way a patient would slip into a coma. Before going dormant, it could only convey two thoughts: <i>poison</i> and <i>demon</i>." You frown and glance at the others, who look tense and baffled. A demon poisoning a tree? You've never heard of the like. <<include "whyqq">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("question_why_endarkened")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Why would an Endarkened want to poison Qael-Qanaeon?"</div>' 'question_why_endarkened'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("question_how_poison")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"How would an Endarkened go about poisoning the tree? Surely someone would notice it doing so?"</div>' 'question_how_poison'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("question_tree_thoughts")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"What do you mean by Qael-Qanaeon's thoughts? How does that work?"</div>' 'question_tree_thoughts'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("question_previous_teams")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"What did the teams sent before us uncover?"</div>' 'question_previous_teams'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("question_where_start")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Where do you suggest we start?"</div>' 'question_where_start'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You can't think of anything else to ask at the moment.</div>' 'ending_meeting'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"Demons thrive on the fear and distress of the Children of Light," Denan offers. "And Qael-Qanaeon is treasured and beloved: it has been a bastion of comfort and strength since Elves first came to Haven. Perhaps… by targeting it, the demon seeks to draw out our own pain and suffering as we watch it…" He shakes his head, apparently too upset to finish the sentence. <<include "whyqq">>

The father and son's looks both darken. "You of all people should know that an Endarkened can take on different guises," Ashaniel notes gravely. "And Qael-Qanaeon receives hundreds of visitors and pilgrims each day. As for <i>how</i> the evil is being wrought, I cannot say for sure." <<include "whyqq">>

<<nobr>><<if $heritage is "Elf">> Denan looks briefly surprised, glancing at your half-pointed ears. <<else>> Denan looks briefly surprised. <</if>><</nobr>> "You don't know?" He exchanges a glance with Tallys. "The Elves were given many gifts by the gods, including long life, the gift of tongues, and what you might call our small magics. Among these blessings came the ability to speak to and hear wild animals, as well as certain trees. In the case of the latter, we can usually only hear those that are very old and have had time to shift towards something like sentience, when the rhythms of the world have sunk into their roots and allowed them to bloom, timidly, towards awareness. But even with the wisest and most ancient specimens, tree-thought is not very similar to human-thought, and I would say it's more like… hearing a wordless song, which can impart some emotion or meaning even if you do not understand its exact language, or perhaps sensing a nascent impulse, a kind of wordless feeling or impression or half-formed image. It is not like having an explicit conversation the way you and I are now." "And yet this song conveyed the words 'poison' and 'demon' to you?" Halek asks keenly. Denan stiffens. "Many of us have interacted with Qael-Qanaeon since it was a sapling," he answers coolly. "While it is true that those exact words may not have been spoken to us, because Qael-Qanaeon does not 'speak' in the way you think—our interpretations of its message are nevertheless accurate, backed by two hundred years of familiarity." "And they wouldn't have just invented that idea from nowhere," Tallys adds. "It would have come from Qael-Qanaeon itself." <<include "whyqq">>

"Nothing much at all," Ashaniel answers in a very dry voice. He seems too polite to show outright contempt, but you imagine a shade of it there, anyway. "The previous teams seemed to be inexperienced officers, more similar to patrols looking for obvious trouble rather than true investigators. Some provided gardening advice that proved… unhelpful." Denan murmurs something biting under his breath, but you don't quite catch it. <<include "whyqq">>

It's a big district, and if an Endarkened really was behind Qael-Qanaeon's poisoning, there's no guarantee that it would have remained in the area for this long. Denan's face shutters, while Ashaniel says with frigid politeness: "In that regard, I would believe you to be the experts. If it were me, perhaps I would turn my sights on discovering whether anyone in the district had been behaving unusually of late, or perhaps if there were any notable outsiders…" "Outsiders," Lavinet echoes. "But surely an Elf approaching Qael-Qanaeon would go much more unnoticed than someone who doesn't live in this neighborhood?" In an instant, you sense their goodwill and approval towards the noblewoman cooling a little. Ashaniel, half-lidded, intones, "No Elf who can hear Qael-Qanaeon's call would ever dare harm the heartwood tree." <i>But demons don't discriminate when it comes to who they possess, and Elves are no less likely to be held in Thrall than anyone else.</i> <<include "whyqq">>

You talk for a while more with Denan and Ashaniel, but they don't have much more useful information to give you: perhaps annoyingly, the prelude to the interview took longer than the actual interview itself. After another lengthy exchange of farewells and well wishes, you rise and make your way out of the garden, the aftertaste of that wheat-gold tea growing bitter and acrid on your tongue. "Well," Halek says eventually, once you've made your way back to the plaza with the heartwood tree. Elven citizens mill around in their elegant silken robes, going about their daily business; some look privately anxious while they pretend not to notice you, talking to each other in falsely-bright, cordial tones, while others—including some rare Elven children—seem oblivious to the deteriorating condition of the tree. "It's not much to go off of. <i>Poison</i> and <i>demon</i>." He shakes his head. "If it helps, I didn't get the sense that either of them were lying." "I might have felt a little better if they were," Lavinet murmurs. "I don't fancy the prospect of finding an Endarkened target among an entire city full of people." "Perhaps it will be easier than we think," Tallys suggests. "Not many outsiders visit this part of the city, and usually someone takes note of the ones who do. Looking for people who stand out may provide us with a narrower list of suspects than one might expect." "You seem very sure that it was an outsider who did this," Lavinet remarks, turning to her. Tallys shrugs. "It's merely a place to start, rather than the ninety-percent of the population here who are Elves. Besides, this is an extremely insular community. <i>If</i> an Elven resident here were acting strange, like someone under possession, a neighbor or friend or clan-member would have noticed, and word would have rapidly spread. You saw: people like Ashaniel'ir have all the time in the world to make conversation, so you can be assured that if an acquaintance were behaving suspiciously, it would have been a topic of discussion in many households. But strangers, of course, aren't under the same scrutiny; so it stands to reason that their comings and goings would be the first to look at." Lavinet nods slowly. "I suppose that makes sense. But that brings me to another question… even if we are able to find the culprit, does that mean we'll be able to make them cure the tree? Or reverse what they did to it ourselves? If it was poison…" She trails off meaningfully, her expression careful but her meaning clear. <i>Does finding them necessarily mean they'll give us an antidote… if one exists at all?</i> A lengthy silence at that. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"We'll worry about that when we get there."</div>' 'autogenerated_686352'>><<sethalek +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Understanding who did this and what they did is a crucial element of understanding how to undo it."</div>' 'autogenerated_686353'>><<settallys +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"She's right. We should prepare ourselves for the worst, even if we do manage to track down the target."</div>' 'autogenerated_686354'>><<setlavinet +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"Either way, finding the culprit is our first step, so we don't need to worry about anything else until we can accomplish that," you state. <<include 'examine_tree_reactions'>>

"Even if they can't or won't fix the tree, we still need to find them and learn what they did in order to undo it ourselves," you state. "So either way, finding the culprit is our first step, whatever that leads to." <<include 'examine_tree_reactions'>>

They're not known for being particularly cooperative, Endarkened. Even if you do manage to find it, the odds of forcing it to undo the damage it's wrought or even tell you what it did to Qael-Qanaeon are vanishingly low. Tallys's eyes have darkened, but she only tilts her head consideringly and says, "I suppose you're right. But whatever happens, finding the culprit is our first step. Let's turn our sights to that and worry about the rest later." <<include 'examine_tree_reactions'>>

You glance at Halek. "It will be easier, too, with your Hunter senses and nose." He shrugs. "Guess so. So far, I'm not picking up on anything, so I can at least confirm that there isn't a demon in one of these houses." He jerks his head towards the buildings ringing the plaza. "If it's still in the district, we'd have to pick the right direction and get closer before I got wind of it. But you're right that it might prove helpful." Lavinet looks vaguely nervous, though she holds her tongue. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Is something wrong?"</div>' 'lavinet_concerned'>><<setlavinet +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Don't be afraid to speak up, Lavinet."</div>' 'lavinet_encouraged'>><<setloyal +1>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Turn to business. "Let's take another look at the tree."</div>' 'examinetreeagain'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

She glances at you in surprise, then says, "I was only wondering what would happen if… Halek were to 'catch wind' of said Endarkened. I have never witnessed…" She trails off for a moment, shooting him a look of apology. <<include "whattheberserker">>

She blinks, as if surprised that you noticed her unease, then shakes her regal head. "Ah… it's nothing. Please, ignore me." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You're difficult to ignore." <b>[FLIRT]</b></div>' 'lavinet_flirting'>><<setlavinet +1>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"No, what is it?"</div>' 'lavinet_admits_concern'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"All right, if you say so."</div>' 'examinetreeagain'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $tallyssex is true or $tallysromance is true>><<set $tallysromanceflag -= 5>><</if>><<if $gender is "male">> <<set $lavinetromanceflag += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> Lavinet's lips quirk in clear amusement, but she clears her throat and says smoothly, "I was only wondering what would happen if… Halek were to 'catch wind' of said Endarkened. I have never witnessed…" She trails off for a moment, shooting him a look of apology. <<include "whattheberserker">>

She sighs in acquiescence. "I was only wondering what would happen if… Halek were to 'catch wind' of said Endarkened. I have never witnessed…" She trails off for a moment, shooting him a look of apology. <<include "whattheberserker">>

"What, the berserker rage?" Halek says lazily. "Don't worry, Lavinet, you won't come to harm unless the demon possesses <i>you</i>. It is an unflattering sight, though. I'm told I get very… intense." He lifts one broad shoulder in a shrug. "If I get out of hand, just slap the collar on me." Tallys looks at him sharply. "You brought it with you?" Another shrug. "I bring it everywhere. Is that a problem?" She shakes her head. "Not a problem, no. I just worry that suppressing your natural powers in that way can't be good for you." She pauses, then adds, "And it reminds me of the slave-collars that the Autarchy put on some Diminished after the Castigation. It was… an upsetting sight, that's all." "Ah," Halek says. "Well, I understand what you mean, but it's better than going on a rampage, I say." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I think you just like having someone put a collar on you." <b>[INNUENDO]</b></div>' 'halek_innuendo'>><<setcharisma +1>><<sethalek +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Tallys, you saw Diminished people being <i>enslaved</i>?"</div>' 'tallys_painful_past'>><<settallys +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Hopefully that makes you feel better, Lavinet."</div>' 'lavinet_dismissal'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Right. Well, we'll keep that in mind."</div>' 'examinetreeagain'>><<setloyal +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Halek looks at you and rolls his eyes, though a smile creeps up the side of his mouth and hovers there. "Trust me, I've already heard this gauntlet of bad jokes from Chase. I don't need <i>you</i> starting up, too." You grin a little, and with that bit of much-needed levity, you return to your examination of the heartwood tree. <<include "examinetreeagain">>

Her expression tightens, but she nods. "Of course. It happened during the war and continued for a few years after. They even used the tunnels under the city to ship them in by the cartload. Those were only turned into the catacombs later." "After the second Autarch and the Consortium outlawed slavery on the Continent," Lavinet points out quietly. Tallys lowers her chin, not exactly a challenge, but a definite gesture of disagreement. "It should have never needed to be outlawed in the first place. What was done then was an abomination, and outlawing what they themselves had done was only a thin reparation for the harm they'd already caused." She draws a ragged breath. "I saw Elvish women being collared for the pleasure-houses, children being used as house slaves…" Then she shakes her head abruptly. "This is neither here nor there. That's the only reason why Halek's collar… unsettles me, but you shouldn't let that stop you." Silence falls at that, before Halek whistles softly and says, "Damn, Tallys. Sorry." She only shakes her head again, her expression tight and withdrawn, and it's a few agonizing seconds more before you clear your throat and say, "Let's take another look at the tree." <<include "examinetreeagain">>

Her wrist moves, an unconscious fan-gesture: probably one of dismissal. "I was never <i>afraid</i>," she says, her tone a bit sharper. "Not of Halek, nor of… anything. Only wondering what to expect." You nod, and with that, the four of you turn back to your examination of the tree. <<include "examinetreeagain">>

<<page_break "Next" "tree_examination_second">>

You approach Qael-Qanaeon <<nobr>><<if $checkqq1 is true>> again, <<else>> cautiously and with what you think is the appropriate amount of reverence, <</if>> <</nobr>> but a cursory inspection of its perimeter reveals nothing new. From the outside, the tree seems only a bit sickly and anemic, the same way any plant might be after a long, brutal winter. It's not that surprising that previous teams wouldn't see anything inherently wrong with it. <<include "inspectqq2">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if (($specialization is "elemental") and ($astral >= 60)) or (($magic >= 70) and ($astral >= 75))>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Use Elemental magic to find the source of the tree's sickness.</div>' 'use_elemental_magic'>><<set $qqinvestigate to "elemental">><</link>><</if>> <<if (($specialization is not "elemental") or ($astral < 60)) and (($magic < 70) or ($astral < 75))>><div class="inactive-item">Use Elemental magic to find the source of the tree's sickness.</div><</if>> <<if (($specialization is "diviner") and ($psionic >= 65)) or (($magic >= 70) and ($psionic >= 75))>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Use Divining magic to see if there was suspicious activity here.</div>' 'use_divining_magic'>><<set $qqinvestigate to "divine">><</link>><</if>> <<if (($specialization is not "diviner") or ($psionic < 65)) and (($magic < 70) or ($psionic < 75))>><div class="inactive-item">Use Divining magic to see if there was suspicious activity here.</div><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("ask_tallys_tree_thoughts")>><<link '<div class="question-item">Ask Tallys if she can hear the tree's thoughts.</div>' 'ask_tallys_tree_thoughts'>><<settallys +1>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Ask Halek if he can sense anything about it.</div>' 'ask_halek_senses'>><<sethalek +1>><<set $qqinvestigate to "halek">><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

She grimaces, then shakes her head slowly, as if your question pained her; you notice that she looks a little chalky under her nut-brown complexion. "No," she admits, "and it's an extremely unnerving thing. Entering this plaza, one could always feel Qael-Qanaeon's… life-force, its <i>awareness</i>. Now, it's just the slip of something, pale and small and silent. Like gazing at an old friend unconscious in a sickbed, unable to recognize them because the illness has turned them into a shell of their former self. It's… painful." <<include "inspectqq2">>

<<nobr>><<if $checkqq1 is true>> Once more, you close your eyes and lay your hand on the tree's trunk, sending a pulse of your magic throughout its entire system. Again, its sickness rises up to touch your own skin like a fever, clammy and dark and seething and <i>wrong</i>. <<else>> You close your eyes and lay a hand on the tree's pristine, unscarred ivory trunk, sending a pulse of your magic throughout its entire system. Immediately, sickness rises up to touch your own skin like a fever, clammy and dark and seething and <i>wrong</i>. <</if>><</nobr>> You try to follow the paths the disease has carved through the tree, like looking out over a landscape and tracking the course of an army's march through it, tracing the swathes of burnt fields and pillaged, splintered fences and barns. It's more difficult than you might have expected: Qael-Qanaeon is old, and the sprawl of its roots and tendrils is vast, extending throughout half of the Elven Quarter like the nerves of an underground brain. Probing and exploring all the connections in such an immense system takes time, patience, and delicacy, like drawing the point of a needle down the individual threads of a huge tapestry, and the effort of it makes your head spin. Eventually, however, you follow a niggling instinct, a subtle, increased pressure of wrongness towards the southeast… You open your eyes and find that you're sweating beneath your heavy uniformed coat. "That way," you manage. "I don't know what's causing it, but the epicenter of the disease seems to be coming from over there." The others nod, and you immediately set off in that direction, your connection to Qael-Qanaeon breaking as you physically pull away from its trunk. <<page_break "Next" "heading_southeast">>

It will be difficult to divine into a hazy, uncertain past with so many people around, especially since you're not even sure when this disease started, but you close your eyes and try to shut out the world anyway. Eventually sound and light recede, leaving only dark, smooth clarity as you try to focus on peering into a window of the past, wading through time and space until… <i>You see the tree, green and healthy and strong, standing under an acid-blue summer sky—</i> <i>No, too far back. You hurtle forward in time, watching as changecolor leaves wilt and drop and sprout again—still healthy, still healthy—there!</i> <i>You see the tree looking a little more bare than it had looked in the weeks before; nothing for the average person to concern themselves over, but you know this is one of the days that the sickness was first taking hold, a month or so back. You watch the flurry of activity around the tree for a while, hazy phantoms and indistinct, blurring forms milling around its base, sitting on benches around the plaza or peering up into its wide, comforting branches, but see nothing that should rouse any suspicion. You allow your mind's eye to pull back a little, seeing if there's a tug in any other direction, something that you're <i><b>meant</b></i> to see…</i> <i>There. You see two forms cutting through the plaza, their movements furtive as they look around for any witnesses or bystanders. It's the middle of the night, the moons thin white fingernails in the sky. The strangers don't approach the great heartwood tree, or even give any appearance of noticing it; snow drifts down in large flat flakes, and their hoods are drawn up accordingly, obscuring their faces. Their cloaks are clasped tight around them, masking any identifying features, too. But they're clearly nervous about being spotted, hurrying through the deserted plaza as if worried they might be stopped. They seem to be accompanying a large covered wagon drawn by a restless, unhappy pony. They clatter through the plaza and head off towards the southeast. That's all you can make out before the vision dissolves before your eyes.</i> You open your eyes slowly, allowing the present to come filtering back in increments rather than all at once. Once you've steadied yourself a little, you tell the others what you've seen, and Halek raises his brows. "Could be unrelated," he says, "but it's a lead, at least. Sounds like they were up to something." You nod. "Worth checking out, I think," you say. "Let's head in that direction and see what we can scrounge up." The others nod, and you set off towards the southeast, Qael-Qanaeon looking after you like a lonely, abandoned lighthouse. <<page_break "Next" "heading_southeast">>

The Hunter approaches the great tree thoughtfully, circling its trunk in an inspecting manner; you notice that he sniffs slightly, as if scenting the air. He lays his hand cautiously against the bark, pulls it away, rubs at whatever residue is left on his fingers. "I sense <i>something</i>," he admits finally, sounding somewhat baffled. "It's not… a demon or a Thrall, exactly, or something that's been directly cursed, but it's… wrong. Corrupted, somehow, but not in a way I've seen before. It's sort of like when you see a carrot that's been leeched of all of its nutrients and it's gone all white and mealy, or an apple that the worms have gotten into. It looks and feels fucked up, but it's not reeking of Rot, necessarily, like demonwork tends to be. Does that make sense?" Lavinet is looking at him like he's gone insane, and Tallys rolls her eyes heavenward. "Comparing Qael-Qanaeon to an old carrot," she says under her breath. Then she looks back at him and says, "Fine, that could be useful in its own way. But do you know what's causing that sense of wrongness, even if it's faint?" Halek scratches the back of his snowy head, his eyes unfocused. Finally he says vaguely, "Southeast. There's more of it that way, I think, but I can't be sure." It's as good a lead as any, so you set off in the direction he indicated. <<page_break "Next" "heading_southeast">>

It's one of those uncertain spring days, the kind where the weather can't decide if it's time for warmth and sunshine, or if the grip of winter is still there. The sun dims periodically as clouds scutter across a pale, iron-colored sky, every inch of the landscape standing out in hard, clear detail; the light, when it's there, is so bright and glassy that standing in it too long begins to feel a bit too warm for your heavy uniforms, but the times of shadow bring a crisp cold breeze just biting enough to necessitate leaving your coats on. In the midst of this inconstancy, Tallys turns to Lavinet and says, her tone more conversational than it has been before: "You did well. Back there, with Denan and Ashaniel." If Lavinet is surprised by this show of friendliness, she doesn't give it away, her perfect, manicured courtier's mask hiding any flicker of awkward emotion. Instead, her full lips curve in a pleased smile, and she says graciously, "Thank you. To be honest, all of the rules and protocols and matters of etiquette were not so unfamiliar: I've known many a hard-nosed courtier who was offended by too direct a question, or who insisted on nattering on about some such for hours before actually getting to the heart of things. Aristocrats seem to be just as obsessed with propriety and courtesy as Elven elders are. Perhaps our cultures have more in common than we think." You wince, already sensing that this was not quite the right thing to say. Tallys lets the remark pass without her own comment, but the silence that settles over the two of them is frosty once again with subtle disagreement or affront. Halek shoots you a despairing look from over Lavinet's head before peering up at the sky, as if it holds something of great interest to him. "Wish the sun would make up its mind," he says idly. Neither women reply. <<page_break "Next" "puddle_encounter">>

At some point, you reach a wide, deep puddle in the road, leftover melt from a recent night of sleet. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Hand Lavinet over the puddle.</div>' 'help_lavinet_over_puddle'>><<setlavinet +5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Hand Tallys over the puddle.</div>' 'help_tallys_over_puddle'>><<settallys +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Make Halek hand you over the puddle.</div>' 'halek_hand_you_over'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Keep walking.</div>' 'keep_walking_puddle'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $gender is "male">> <<set $lavinetromanceflag += 4>> <</if>> <<if (($tallysromanceflag >= 10) or ($tallyssex is true)) or ($tallysromance is true)>> <<set $tallys -= 8>> <<set $tallysromanceflag -= 8>> <</if>><</nobr>> You offer your hand to Lavinet with a quick, chivalrous bow. She smiles, her features sleek and amused but the glint in her half-lidded eyes making her seem enormously pleased; she puts her slim gray-gloved hand in yours and steps prettily over the puddle, balancing her weight lightly against yours all the while. <<nobr>><<if $lavinetromanceflag >= 5>> The warm, living scent of her touches you then: the tantalizing, sharper hints of jasmine and bergamot over the mellower, smoother scents of sun-warmed hair and soft skin and the rich fur collar clasped around her throat. It's enough to make your head swim. <</if>> <<if $lavinetromanceflag >= 10>> Her tapered, graceful fingers even linger in yours for just a few more moments than is necessary, and when she finally draws them away, the warmth of them persists, even through your gloves, making your own fingertips tingle. <</if>><</nobr>> Lavinet gifts you a lazily-grateful look and a coquettish nod of thanks. "A proper gentle$woman," she teases. "Even out in the field?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Always."</div>' 'lavinet_always_gallant'>><<setlavinet +1>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Only for beautiful ladies who deserve it."</div>' 'lavinet_beautiful_ladies'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Just didn't want you to muddy your boots. They look nice."</div>' 'lavinet_nice_boots'>><<setlavinet +1>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"If we don't have manners, we're no better than the animals."</div>' 'lavinet_manners'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Just helping out a friend."</div>' 'lavinet_just_friends'>><<setlavinet +1>><<set $lavinetromanceflag -= 3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $gender is "male">> <<set $lavinetromanceflag += 2>> <</if>><</nobr>> Lavinet's eyes twinkle. She makes a murmuring, approving sound, but then you're across the puddle, and you're forced to break apart. <<include "children_and_vendor">>

<<nobr>><<if $gender is "male">> <<set $lavinetromanceflag += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> Lavinet laughs a little, the sound throaty. "So it's conditional, is it? That isn't very gracious, <<c rank>>." "Only being honest, my lady." She looks like she's about to say something else, but then you're across the puddle, and you're forced to break apart. <<include "children_and_vendor">>

She smiles. "That's kind, but I <i>am</i> capable of dirtying them, you know. I'm a Shepherd officer now, not an aristocrat: I'm comfortable with Endarkened blood and mud and all manner of unpleasant things. You don't have to treat me as if I'm made of glass." "Not what this is about," you quip. "I just wanted to be nice." Lavinet laughs, pleased. "Well, I appreciate it. Next time, how about I hand <i>you</i> over the puddle? We can take turns." <<include "children_and_vendor">>

Lavinet laughs, the sound throaty. "I suppose not." <<include "children_and_vendor">>

Lavinet laughs, the sound throaty. "Well, I appreciate it, darling," she says humorously, as if you've said something very amusing indeed. <<include "children_and_vendor">>

<<nobr>><<if $tallysromanceflag >= 5>> <<set $tallysromanceflag += 1>> <</if>> <<if $lavinetromanceflag >= 5>> <<set $lavinetromanceflag -= 5>> <<setlavinet -5>> <</if>><</nobr>> You offer your hand to Tallys with a quick, ironic grin. She smiles, looking amused by your gesture, but accepts it nonetheless, placing her calloused, tapered fingers gently in yours and allowing you to hand her over the puddle. She looks so slim and willowy, moving as gracefully as a dancer, so lightly she might as well be levitating; but you're well aware of the strength that lies in those forearms, the wiry power of her even as she leans her slight weight against you. <<nobr>><<if (($tallysromanceflag >= 5) or ($tallysromance is true)) or ($tallyssex is true)>> The familiar, crisp scents of eucalyptus and mint greets you as she leans close, mingled with softer pear and sage: it's like the first deep breath of bright, cool air during a dreamy dawn. It's enough to make your stomach flip-flop. <</if>> <<if ($tallyssex is true) or ($tallysromance is true)>> Glancing at the others to see if they're looking—they're not, Lavinet is engrossed in picking her way across the puddle herself while Halek eyes a nearby grill-cart—Tallys takes the opportunity to tangle your fingers together and tug you a bit closer, placing a swift, discreet kiss on your cheek. You smile and kiss her captured hand in return. You feel Tallys relax against you as she murmurs, "I'm glad you're here, <i>elan</i>." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Squeeze her hand reassuringly. "I'll always be here for you, Tallys."</div>' 'tallys_always_here'>><<set $tallysromanceflag += 1>><<set $tallysharden += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Smile at her. "Me, too."</div>' 'tallys_me_too'>><</link>> <<if $checkqq1 is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I am, too. But there's something you should know." Tell her what you sensed about Qael-Qanaeon.</div>' 'tell_tallys_about_tree'>><<settallys +5>><<set $telltallys to true>><</link>><</if>> </div><</nobr>> <</if>> <</nobr>> <<include "children_and_vendor">>

For some reason, you think you see a shadow pass over her eyes for a moment. Then she smiles at you and squeezes your hand. "I know, love," she says softly, slowly. "I am grateful for that." <<include "children_and_vendor">>

She smiles at you and squeezes your hand again. <<include "children_and_vendor">>

You watch as Tallys's face turns ashen, and your hand unintentionally slips from her nerveless grip. When you're done explaining what you saw, she says numbly, "But… the tree is still alive, isn't it? There's always the chance…" You nod, hating to upset her but feeling the need to be honest. "That is true, there's always the chance we can find a way to save it. I just want you to be prepared in case we're not able to." She shakes her head slowly. "This is… a shock. I don't—I've never felt a particular attachment to the tree myself, but to the Elves of this sector, Qael-Qanaeon is <i>sacred</i>. It's the only living remnant they have of their home, their former glory, their lost cities… everything they once believed in. If it dies—and through <i>poison</i>, no less—" She turns haunted eyes to you. "The thought of what could happen chills me to the bone." "I'm glad I told you," you tell her, watching her carefully. "I didn't want to dishearten you, but the stakes are high and the risks here are very real. But we'll find this culprit, and do whatever we can to stem the tide of what comes after." She places a cool hand on your forearm; she never wears gloves. "Thank you for being honest," she tells you gratefully. "I will think on this in the meantime. But it's always good to have all the facts, rather than walking into a situation blind." She doesn't quite smile, but her eyes convey everything: trust, gratitude, approval… and something else that makes a warm, unnamed feeling bloom through your chest like a rose. "Thank you, <<c firstname>>. I'm not sure I'd know what to do if not for you." <<include "children_and_vendor">>

He pulls a face at your beseeching look and persuasive whine. "Are you serious? Didn't you just wade your way through the filthiest swamp on the Continent with no trouble?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Gaze at him simperingly.</div>' 'halek_simper'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Yes, but <i>you</i> weren't there to hand me over puddles. It's different."</div>' 'halek_puddles_different'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Relax, I was just joking!"</div>' 'halek_just_joking'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if ($charisma >= 70) and ($halek >= 65)>> <<sethalek +1>> Halek tries to resist, but the power of your charisma is too strong; eventually he groans in disgust and says, "<i>Fine</i>." He extends a long, large hand to yours, wraps his other arm around you, and bodily lifts you over the puddle, depositing you perfunctorily on the other side and grumbling about being made your footservant. Your cheery, sparkling thanks only makes him roll his eyes, but you think you see a faint smile hovering near the corner of his mouth as he keeps walking. <<else>> Halek grimaces at you. "Nice try, but no way." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "children_and_vendor">>

Halek squints at you suspiciously while Tallys and Lavinet giggle to themselves. "He's the sol of the Reach," Tallys tells you amusedly. "Why are you treating him like he's your footservant?" You shrug. "I don't know. Because I can, I guess." "He's fun to bully," Lavinet says coyly, hiding her smile behind her dove-gray gloved hand. Halek pulls a sour expression. "Knew I shouldn't have come today," he grumbles under his breath. "Knew I should have said I was sick." <<nobr>><<if ($charisma >= 70) and ($halek >= 65)>> <<sethalek +1>> Eventually, however, your campaign makes him fold; eventually he groans in disgust and says, "<i>Fine</i>." He extends a long, large hand to yours, wraps his other arm around you, and bodily lifts you over the puddle, depositing you perfunctorily on the other side and grumbling about being made your footservant. Your cheery, sparkling thanks only makes him roll his eyes, but you think you see a faint smile hovering near the corner of his mouth as he keeps walking. <<else>> You wheedle him some more, but, his pride affronted, the Hunter refuses to give in. You're left to jump over the puddle all by your lonesome. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "children_and_vendor">>

Halek rolls his eyes while Tallys and Lavinet giggle. "Anything else you'd like to request?" he asks sardonically. "A piggyback ride? A snack?" "All of the above, please," you answer contentedly, hurrying to catch up with his longer stride as he makes a valiant attempt to leave the three of you behind. <<include "children_and_vendor">>

<<include "children_and_vendor">>

At one point, a host of things happens all at once. A large, soft thistle ball rolls into the street in front of you, accompanied by a gaggle of tiny Elven children. At the same time, a passing Norm pushing a vendor's cart of potions and elixirs seems to recognize an easy target in Lavinet's well-bred demeanor and brightens, hustling over to accost her. Simultaneously, the group of tiny children reach for their ball as it taps against Halek's boot, their eyes growing larger and larger as they peer up at the Hunter, who must look like a veritable titan with the sun at his back and shining on his snow-white hair. Belatedly you realize that these children have probably never seen a Hunter in their lives: he must look like a figure out of primordial legend to them. At the same time, the vendor says excitedly to Lavinet, "My lady! You wear the uniform of a Shepherd, but I could recognize the mien of an aristocrat anywhere. If you would take but a moment to look at my wares, the patronage of such an esteemed lady such as yourself would boost my sales tremendously, I would be endlessly grateful…" Lavinet looks frozen in a rare moment of surprised discomfort; it's clear that she's never been approached in this manner by a pushy street-vendor in her life, undoubtedly having only visited high-end modistes and shops that knew better than to hassle their prestigious clientele. She has yet, it seems, developed the ability to graciously or firmly deflect more familiar personages. The kids are still gaping up at Halek, who looks bemused by their awe-stricken gazes. "Are you a <i>giant</i>?" one squeaks. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Address the children. "Yup, he is. And he loves eating little Elven children as a snack!"</div>' 'halek_scares_children'>><<set $elves -= 1>><<sethalek +1>><<set $childrenhalek to true>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Address the children. "He looks that way, doesn't he? But in actuality, he's a Hunter! And in fact, he's a kind of king among Hunters!"</div>' 'halek_king_of_hunters'>><<set $elves +1>><<sethalek -2>><<set $childrenhalek to true>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Kick their thistle ball as hard away from you as possible.</div>' 'kick_thistle_ball'>><<sethalek -1>><<settallys -3>><<setlavinet -1>><<setcharisma -1>><<setcompassionate -5>><<set $elves -= 5>><<set $tallysromanceflag -= 3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Help Lavinet. "I'm sorry, but we're on duty at the moment. She can't help you."</div>' 'help_lavinet_vendor'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Encourage Lavinet. "We have a moment. You can look at his wares if you feel like it. Or not, if you don't want to."</div>' 'encourage_lavinet_vendor'>><<setlavinet +3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Halek, stirring a little at your obvious nudge, blinks before saying in an unrecognizably deep, rough tone, "…That's right, I love eating children! Their flesh and bones are DELICIOUS. You'd better run, because if I catch you, I'll devour you alive! Grrrrr!" And he raises his arms over his head and gives a spirited roar. <<page_break "Next" "halek_scares_aftermath">>

The children immediately break into hysterical, blood-curdling shrieks and split off in a genuine panic, crying as if in fear of their very lives and making such a racket that multiple Elven residents open their doors or stare over at you in alarm. You wave at them to show that all is fine before you and Halek look over at each other in total chagrin. "<i>What was that</i>?" you ask in an undertone, plastering a reassuring smile on your face as you signal to a glaring mother that you completely intended to put the fear of $god into her child. "'<i>Their flesh and bones are delicious</i>?' A little overboard, don't you think?" "I don't fucking know," Halek retorts, dropping his voice to a furious whisper. "You're the one who said it! I was just playing along. I thought you had a better read on kids than I did. It's not like I know exactly how they like to play!" Tallys and Lavinet are staring over at you, the street-vendor having been dispensed with while you were busy with the children. Then they glance at each other; Lavinet says lightly, "What are the chances that we're going to receive complaints that our officers have been terrorizing small children rather than focusing on our investigation?" "Extremely high," Tallys answers—and you all can't help but dissolve into laughter at that. Above, the sun breaks through yet another bank of winter-clinging clouds. <<page_break "Next" "second_town_square">>

A theatrical gasp arises among the entire group of children, as if they fully believe they've encountered a mythical sovereign. Halek looks a bit world-weary as he turns unimpressed eyes to you before drawling, "Yup, that's me… king of the Hunters." "Your hair is <i>white</i>," one little Elf gasps. "My mama says that only happens in very old people. Are you very old?" Halek sends you a glare while you try to suppress your snicker. "I feel like it, kid. But… no. My people all have white hair, regardless of how old we are." This invites another barrage of frantic, pelting questions: Elven children are quite the rare sight, and prized among their people, as birth rates among the Elves are low. Still, the ones you've seen seem to be exempt from the strict codes of etiquette and modes of speech that bind the rest of their society, and they play and act just like normal kids. It's several minutes more before you can untangle yourselves from their excited gaggle. While you wait for Tallys and Lavinet to dispense with the insistent vendor, Halek levels a flat stare at you. "Why would you do that." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I dunno. It seemed like it would be funny."</div>' 'halek_king_funny'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I figure you should get in <i>some</i> practice with interacting with kids before you have your own."</div>' 'halek_king_practice'>><<sethalek -3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Halek rolls his eyes. "I'm glad I can be your jester, to be poked and prodded for your general amusement." "Thank you, jester." <<page_break "Next" "second_town_square">>

Halek grimaces, as if you've hit on a sensitive topic. "Please. I don't even want to think about marrying Moonsilk, let alone having children with her. Which I'll have to, given my position as sol." He shudders, his mood visibly darkening. Your smile fades by a few molars. "Did you ever think you wanted to have children? Before you were engaged to her?" "I never thought about it," Halek deadpans. "I was too young and caught up thinking about my present situation, not my future. And now it's… all tangled up in obligation, and the betrothal, and duty. I don't think about it too much." The atmosphere between you abruptly becomes more awkward, and it's in pensive silence that you finally are able to move on. <<page_break "Next" "second_town_square">>

You can't help but suppress a sadistic laugh at the shocked, betrayed looks on the children's faces before they turn and scamper frantically after their ball—which has soared high over the roof of one of the houses. Halek looks at you with genuine exasperation, while Tallys turns to you and says sharply, "Really, <<c firstname>>." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"What? It's good exercise for them."</div>' 'kick_ball_exercise'>><<settallys -3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I didn't feel like talking to them."</div>' 'kick_ball_talking'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Sorry. I let my intrusive thoughts win."</div>' 'kick_ball_intrusive'>><<sethalek +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Tallys tsks, but once Lavinet dispenses with the street-vendor, your group moves on without further commentary. <<page_break "Next" "second_town_square">>

<<nobr>><<if $gender is "male">> <<set $lavinetromanceflag += 1>> <<else>> <<setlavinet +2>> <</if>> <<setloyal +1>><</nobr>> Lavinet shoots you a grateful glance, but the pushy street-vendor is not to be deterred. "Ah, but this will only take a moment," he begins pleadingly, "and just thirty seconds of your time could greatly improve my livelihood… I have cosmetic products, fine creams to renew the skin, extracts and oils to attract the best suitors!" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Can you not hear properly? We're not interested."</div>' 'vendor_leaves_sadly'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Take a hint and piss off before I make you."</div>' 'vendor_leaves_frightened'>><<setcompassionate -3>><<setlavinet -1>><<settallys -1>><<setcharisma -1>><<setreputation -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Remain firm but polite. "No, thank you."</div>' 'vendor_leaves_politely'>><<setcharisma +1>><<setlavinet +1>><</link>> <<if $tallys >= 65>><<link '<div class="choice-item">You notice Tallys trying very hard to make herself unnoticeable. "Tallys? What's wrong?"</div>' 'vendor_recognizes_tallys'>><<settallys +2>><<setlavinet +2>><</link>><</if>> <<if $tallys < 65>><div class="inactive-item">You notice Tallys trying very hard to make herself unnoticeable. "Tallys? What's wrong?"</div><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

The vendor's expression falls. "Ah, of course," he says, crestfallen. "Another time, then." And he bows, retreating hastily back to his cart. With that handled, you decide to move on. <<page_break "Next" "second_town_square">>

The vendor's expression turns shocked and frightened at the steel in your tone. "Ah, of course," he stammers, backing away hastily. "I am sorry to bother you! Another time, perhaps!" And he bows, beating a frantic retreat back to his cart. With that handled, you decide to move on. <<page_break "Next" "second_town_square">>

Tallys flinches, as if calling attention to her is the last thing she wants you to do—Shery has commented on her ability to fade into the background during unwanted social situations, the same way she can melt indistinguishably into her environment during a hunt—but it's with unreserved delight that the street-vendor brightens and turns to her with obvious recognition. "My lady Tallys! What a joy it is to see you again; I apologize for not seeing you sooner! Have you brought your friends to become new clients of my humble shop?" Lavinet is observing the situation with a renewed sense of interest—her eyes look a bit sly as she says, "You know each other?" The street-vendor nods enthusiastically; his bobbing movements and carefree energy remind you a little of Chandry, despite the lack of clown paint and garish color. "But of course!" he cries. "Lady Tallys is one of my longest customers! I specialize in herbal tinctures, elixirs, potions, oils, extracts—for the fine lady here"—he indicates Lavinet—"I thought she might be interested in my bath oils and cosmetic products, for I have many lovely mixtures aimed for polishing natural beauty and attracting the eye of a worthy suitor! But if you're a friend of Lady Tallys, you must also be interested in <i>melinalé</i>!" <<nobr>><<if $heritage is "Elf">> <br><br> You choke so hard in surprise that it launches you into a coughing fit, such that Lavinet has to pound your back in an unladylike fashion. <</if>><</nobr>> Tallys covers her face in mortification as Halek, now rid of his gaggle of children onlookers, says with keen interest, "<i>Melinalè</i>? What is that, some kind of special ingredient for some brew?" "The most explosive 'brew' of all, my friend!" the street-vendor replies excitedly. "For <i>melinalè</i> is a secret Elvish potion made for bedgames—it is a powerful aphrodisiac! One can drink it for the headiest of ecstasies, every whisper turned into the most sensitive caress, or even better yet, use it as a lubricant for—" Tallys puts up an abrupt hand. "That's enough," she all but croaks, looking more discomfited than you've ever seen her. "They understand the gist of it. We're on a case, Fallon, so we need to be going…" "But wait, I want to know more about <i>melinalé</i>," Halek intones brightly, looking downright cheery. "As do I," Lavinet coos. "Pray tell, sir, how much of it has Tallys purchased from you over your acquaintance?…" <<page_break "Next" "melinalé_aftermath">>

After a few more minutes of torturing Tallys, you all take your leave of the street-vendor in enormously high spirits. There is something wickedly funny about seeing the normally-composed Elven Keeper finally having something to tease her about. The others clearly feel the same way: Halek is grinning to himself, while Lavinet is all but skipping with delight. "As soon as we're done with this case, I'm tracking that man down," Halek comments. "That sales pitch was pretty convincing." "Oh, but I must come with you!" Lavinet cries. She darts a coy look at Tallys and says, "Apparently it can never hurt to have a <i>healthy</i> supply of melinalé on hand… I had no idea you were a regular patron of such a charming little shop!" Tallys shoots you a look, as if to say, <i>Kill me</i>. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if ($tallyssex is true) or ($tallysromance is true)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">You're too busy wondering why you haven't gotten a chance to experience this product for yourself...</div>' 'melinalé_romance_tallys'>><<set $tallysromanceflag += 1>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Pile on. "Well, Tallys? We need a customer testimony. Does it work as well as the vendor says?"</div>' 'melinalé_pile_on'>><<setlavinet +2>><<sethalek +2>><<settallys +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Take pity on her. "If either of you decide to buy it for yourselves, you'd better do a good job of hiding it. You'll never hear the end of it if someone like Chase catches you sneaking in with it."</div>' 'melinalé_take_pity'>><<settallys +2>><<setlavinet +1>><<sethalek +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"I was saving it for a special occasion," Tallys hisses at you when the others aren't looking. "Though the surprise is all but ruined now…" You crack a satisfied grin. "The surprise isn't the main part of the show," you comment. She rolls her eyes and nudges you, but a small smile plays around the edges of her mouth as you walk on. <<page_break "Next" "second_town_square">>

Tallys levels you an unimpressed look. But then a reluctant smile twitches around her mouth as she answers evenly, almost slyly, "There's a reason why he knows me so well." Halek makes a crowing sound while Lavinet claps her hands and giggles like a girl, and it's with buoyed spirits that your group is able to walk on. Above, the sun breaks through another bank of winter-clinging clouds. <<page_break "Next" "second_town_square">>

That sobers them enough to lapse into a more thoughtful silence. Then Lavinet says, "If Tallys has done it successfully…" while Halek intones, "Just hide it at the bottom of a grocery bag, and no one would ever know." At that, you all dissolve into a fit of laughter, even Tallys, and it's with buoyed spirits that you're able to walk on. Above, the sun breaks through another bank of winter-clinging clouds. <<page_break "Next" "second_town_square">>

Lavinet shoots you a grateful glance, then dips her chin and says, "While I appreciate the offer, I'm afraid I must decline at the moment. Perhaps if we run into each other another time…" But the pushy street-vendor is not to be deterred. "Ah, but this will only take a moment," he begins pleadingly, "and just thirty seconds of your time could greatly improve my livelihood… I have cosmetic products, fine creams to renew the skin, extracts and oils to attract the best suitors!" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Can you not hear properly? We're not interested."</div>' 'vendor_leaves_sadly'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Take a hint and piss off before I make you."</div>' 'vendor_leaves_frightened'>><<setcompassionate -3>><<setlavinet -1>><<settallys -1>><<setcharisma -1>><<setreputation -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Remain firm but polite. "No, thank you."</div>' 'vendor_leaves_politely'>><<setcharisma +1>><<setlavinet +1>><</link>> <<if $tallys >= 65>><<link '<div class="choice-item">You notice Tallys trying very hard to make herself unnoticeable. "Tallys? What's wrong?"</div>' 'vendor_recognizes_tallys'>><<settallys +2>><<setlavinet +2>><</link>><</if>> <<if $tallys < 65>><div class="inactive-item">You notice Tallys trying very hard to make herself unnoticeable. "Tallys? What's wrong?"</div><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

Eventually, you reach another town square: here, the faint feeling of wrongness that you've been following reaches its peak, thumping against your temples like a padded hammer. This is in a slightly poorer part of the neighborhood, a forgotten-feeling corner that feels nothing like the central plaza holding Qael-Qanaeon: it holds a few humble apartment buildings with one or two empty lots to separate them, a covered well beneath a tree filled with timid cherry blossoms, a bakery filling the air with the smells of butter, honeycakes, and crystallized sugar, and a handful of worn benches. <<nobr>><<if $qqinvestigate is "halek">> Halek pauses, looking around and frowning. "The feeling stops here," he announces. "It's still really faint, but stronger in this area. If we look around, we might uncover something." <<else>> You halt, feeling around with your magic. "Something's here," you declare. "I can't tell exactly where it is, but it's in this square. If we look around, we might uncover something." <</if>><</nobr>> Lavinet nods. "Let's ask the residents if they know anything." You split up to canvass the area, Halek ducking into the bakery, Tallys knocking on the door of an apartment building, and Lavinet cautiously approaching two young Elvish women talking quietly together on a bench. <<include "investigateqq2">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("approach_gray_haired_woman")>><<link '<div class="question-item">Approach the gray-haired woman currently hauling a bucket up the well.</div>' 'approach_gray_haired_woman'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("approach_coonhound")>><<link '<div class="question-item">Approach the Ordelian coonhound sitting in the shade of a doorstep.</div>' 'approach_coonhound'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("approach_elven_children") and ($childrenhalek is false)>><<link '<div class="question-item">Approach the cluster of Elven children playing in one of the empty lots.</div>' 'approach_elven_children'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Reconvene with the others to discuss what you've found.</div>' 'reconvene_with_others'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

You immediately clock the woman as non-Elven, or at least not <i>fully</i> Elven; the ageless Elves don't have graying hair, instead looking as if they've been frozen in time; and besides, the way she's drawing up the bucket is jerky and annoyed—nothing like the fluid, almost inhuman grace you'd expect from a full-blooded Elf. Your suspicions prove correct when she turns at your approach, showing an entirely normal face, wispy gray hair, and—to your surprise—the <i>iladrin</i> in her faded blue eyes. You also note that her ears are half-pointed: Elvish-blooded, then, or more to the point, an Elf-Mage. <<if $heritage is "Elf">> <br><br> Her eyes flicker to your own ears, and that seems to relax her slightly. <</if>> She nods, curt, and says warily, "Well met." Because she didn't bow, you don't, either. "Well met. May I speak to you for a few moments?" The older woman—who looks to be somewhere in her late forties or early fifties—sets the bucket down, wiping her hands on her apron, and nods again, introducing herself as Lairamo Ilureven. <<nobr>><<if $heritage is "Elf">> Not any Elven given name that you've ever heard, and the surname doesn't stand out as a prominent clan or House, so perhaps she wasn't raised among her Elven kin. <</if>><</nobr>> She has an impatient, cantankerous attitude, as if she barely has the time to be speaking with you and will only stay long enough to accord you the barest courtesy—a far cry from the leisurely, unhurried, polite demeanor of Ashaniel and Denan. Before you have a chance to explain your presence, she snaps out, "You're looking for the Norms who damaged Qael-Qanaeon." That gives you pause. <i>Norms?</i> Seeing your look, Lairamo says impatiently, "They'd have to be Norms, wouldn't they? No Elf would harm Qael-Qanaeon, and it's hard to believe a Mage, Ket, or Hunter would have any reason to, either. But we get trouble from the Norm folk around here from time to time. People don't like our kind having our own quarter, fostering our own community right in their midst. Or the fact that much of the Elven Quarter is nicer than the rest of Ashtown, which they think of as <i>theirs</i>. We're just <i>guests</i>, so where do we get off making it look so grand?" She shrugs. "So we've had vandals, looters, sometimes gangs trying to stir up trouble. It would have been one of them who hurt the tree out of spite. Maybe even aiming to drive some of us out of the city." Put that way, it makes a sort of sense, but… <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"We have reason to suspect that it was Endarkened that caused the tree's ailment, not Norms. And Endarkened can possess anybody, including Elves."</div>' 'lairamo_endarkened_response'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"It's hard to see how any Norm invention could fell something as mighty and ancient as Qael-Qanaeon. Doesn't seem like the methodology of vandals and looters."</div>' 'lairamo_norm_invention'>><</link>> <<if $heritage is "Norm">><<link '<div class="heritage-item">"I was taken in and raised by Norms. They're not all bad."</div>' 'lairamo_norm_raised'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">No, she's right. It makes complete sense.</div>' 'lairamo_vice_guard'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Lairamo makes a face. "But people can fight their own possession, yes? If an Endarkened took an Elf as a Thrall, I think the Elf would kill themselves rather than be used to harm the great tree. I still think you should be looking at the Norms." <<include "lairamo_vice_guard">>

"I'd think they'd burn the tree or vandalize it over sickening it slowly," you point out. "That seems to be more in line with their type." Lairamo makes a face, but she seems to see your point. "Well, I don't know how they did it," she says. "But mark me, this <i>was</i> the work of Norms. It always is." <<include "lairamo_vice_guard">>

Lairamo makes a face, as if failing to see how this is relevant. "Well, the ones who come sweeping in here, smashing storefronts and destroying property are," she says sharply. "So I say you should be looking at them." <<include "lairamo_vice_guard">>

You ask her if she's seen any suspicious activity in this area lately, Norm or no, and she shakes her head. "You'd be better off asking the Vice Guard patrol who rolls through here," she says, the sour look on her face telling you exactly what she thinks of said patrol. You raise your brows. "The Vice Guard keep watch over this area?" It's surprising to hear: you'd expect the all-Norm police force to focus their time and resources on monitoring more obvious neighborhoods, like the wealthy districts in Whitestone where the politicians of the Consortium live, or even beats in other parts of Ashtown—not Diminished areas like the Elven Quarter, where their presence wouldn't even be welcome. Lairamo, scowling, replies, "They started walking through once the Norm troublemakers started ramping up their bad behavior. I suppose someone in the Consortium realized that it wouldn't be prudent to allow the conflicts to escalate: that's a recipe for an Uprising. So they set up some Vice Guard patrols to keep a token eye on things and make us feel 'safer.' Huh. The graffiti's stopped, at least for now, but I don't think any one of us ever felt any safer." After a few more moments of talking, she eventually turns away, claiming she has something on her stove to watch. She hauls her splashing bucket to the stoop of one of the apartment buildings and quickly shuts the door behind her. <<include "investigateqq2">>

You approach the dog, a handsome old coonhound with soft, drooping ears, a long, morose face, and sagging, red-rimmed eyes. He doesn't raise his head, but his stiff tail begins to thump hopefully against the doorstep that he's lying on as you kneel down to his level. <<nobr>><<if (($specialization is "wild") and ($psionic >= 50)) or (($psionic >= 70) and ($magic >= 70))>> <<set $houndlot to true>> Ordelian coonhounds are famously vocal, notorious for their yodeling 'tell-you-all-about-it' cries and howls, so you're hoping that this one will have something interesting to share. You introduce yourself politely, offering the backs of your fingers for the old boy to sniff, and he informs you that his masters call him Traveler. He allows you to pet his downy head, and despite his attempts to be dignified, the hound's back end begins to wriggle. His tail continues to whap the porch in a welcoming tattoo. <br><br> Asking a dog if he's seen anything suspicious, however, is just asking for trouble. An outpouring of information tumbles out at you, all unsorted and unprioritized: rats, he <i>hates</i> rats, and nosy neighbors looking in windows and cats teasing him from inside the bookshop on the corner and suitors coming to bother his mistress at times when he has face shoved in his food bowl, startling him and sending him careening for the front door, howling bloody murder— <br><br> You try to stymie Traveler's stream of discussion, hastily amending the question around Qael-Qanaeon. Traveler's tail pauses; he doesn't seem to know or care much about the tree other than knowing it's not for relieving himself on, but then he says, <i>There were people digging away at its roots one night.</i> <br><br> You stiffen. <i>People? Who? When?</i> <br><br> Traveler's estimation of time is hazy: he can only tell you not too long ago, but not in the last week, either. It was snowing. He recalls waking up in the middle of the night to an odd sound, poking his head over the ledge of his low window to do a sweep of 'his territory,' and espying two hooded people, probably men from their build, digging a hole. He couldn't smell—and therefore identify them—from inside, but later the next day, when he trotted over to inspect their work—thinking perhaps they were unearthing a cache of hidden bones, as some other dogs occasionally do—he smelled something putrid, along with the earthy, woody smells of Qael-Qanaeon's exposed roots, now buried under freshly-turned dirt. Trust in an Ordelian coonhound's miraculous nose to discern all of that just from scent. <br><br> <i>So they refilled the hole?</i> <br><br> Traveler yawns, then flops over to invite you to rub his rotund belly. <i>They did. And that night it snowed a lot, covering the ground up, so none of the two-leggers noticed that someone dug there.</i> <br><br> <i>You didn't tell your owners? </i> <br><br> He looks at you, unimpressed. <i>Didn't know it was important. </i> <br><br> Interesting. The old dog begins to doze lightly under your ministrations, so you thank him and rise to your feet. <<else>> You try talking to him, but the old dog doesn't seem to be interested in doing anything other than inviting you to rub his rotund belly, emitting rapturous groans and grumbles as you oblige, so after a few minutes, you rise to your feet again. Back at it. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "investigateqq2">>

"That's not fair," a reed-thin, piping voice cries as you draw near. A well-dressed little girl with shining black hair stamps her foot. "<i>I</i> want to be a Shepherd this time, you <i>always</i> make me play as the Endarkened!" "That's because you're so good at it!" one of the Elven boys—silvery-haired brothers with cheeky grins—replies easily. Then they abruptly fall silent and turn to you with wide eyes as you walk up to them. You try not to stare back. Elven children are quite the rare sight, and prized among their people, as birth rates among the Elves are low. Still, the ones you've seen seem to be exempt from the strict codes of etiquette and modes of speech that bind the rest of their society, and they play and act just like normal kids. These ones look quite young, perhaps eight or nine, though in reality they could technically be older than you. They just age and mature extremely slowly, at a rate that matches the long lifespans of their people rather than with the rapidity of the other races. <<nobr>><<if ($cainesafe is true) or ($bothsafe is true)>> It's the subject of many the sad cautionary tale: if these kids were to befriend someone like Caine, he might be an adult (or even father of his own child) by the time they reached his current age of twelve. To them, he would grow up in the blink of an eye. Another reason why they're kept quite isolated from the outside world. <</if>><</nobr>> "<i>Oh</i>," the little girl breathes, <<nobr>><<if $heritage is "Elf">> her gray gaze flying to your half-pointed ears. <<else>> her gray gaze flying to the <i>iladrin</i> in your eyes. <</if>><</nobr>> "You're… you're…" "A STRANGER!" one of the boys yelps. They attempt to bolt in three different directions. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Cajole them. "Wait a moment. I'm a Shepherd. See my medallion? They call me the Hero of Haven."</div>' 'children_cajole'>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setcharisma +1>><<set $elves += 3>><<setlavinet +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Bark at them. "Hold it right there! I have questions, and I'm an officer of the law."</div>' 'children_bark'>><<setcompassionate -2>><<setloyal +2>><<set $elves -= 3>><<settallys -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Let them go. You wouldn't want to scare them.</div>' 'children_let_go'>><<set $elves += 5>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

The three children all pause, looking at you with wide eyes, quivering with anticipation mid-run like rabbits pinned by a hawk's gaze. But the sight of your medallion seems to arrest them. "A… A Shepherd?" the little girl squeaks. The bolder of the boys—you can't tell if they're twins or simply brothers—says, his voice loud with skepticism, "You're not the Hero of Haven. The Hero of Haven is ten feet tall and $her skin glows like there's a sun underneath $them." "And $she<<nobr>><<if $plural is true>>'re<<else>>'s<</if>><</nobr>> beautiful," the other brother adds. "<i>Really</i> beautiful." Ouch. Is <i>that</i> what people have been saying about you? <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Sorry to disappoint, but none of that is true. I just look like... me."</div>' 'children_disappointment'>><<setcourage +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"That's my combat form. When I'm walking around the city, I look like this. Less conspicuous that way."</div>' 'children_combat_form'>><<setcharisma +1>><<setcunning +1>><</link>> <<if $rank is "Commander">><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I can prove that I'm the Hero of Haven. You've heard that $she<<nobr>><<if $plural is true>>'re<<else>>'s<</if>><</nobr>> a Commander now, right?" Show them the mark on your medallion proving that you're Commander-Legate.</div>' 'children_commander'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>><</if>> <<if $rank is not "Commander">><div class="inactive-item">"I can prove that I'm the Hero of Haven. You've heard that $she<<nobr>><<if $plural is true>>'re<<else>>'s<</if>><</nobr>> a Commander now, right?" Show them the mark on your medallion proving that you're Commander-Legate.</div><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

It's clear that the kids don't believe you, but they hold their silence, anyway. Some of that frosty Elven politeness, loaded with hidden meaning, that they'll no doubt use more frequently as adults. <<include "askthekids">>

That seems to convince them; the three kids all nod their heads slowly, glancing at each other as if seeking confirmation that this makes sense. "I suppose," the quieter brother begins, "I could see that. If you walked around all tall and shining all the time, you'd really stand out. Maybe even enemies would target you." "And you'd have to stoop to get through doors," his brother adds solemnly. You still get the sense that they don't <i>quite</i> believe you, but they're at least seem willing to hear you out. <<include "askthekids">>

The little girl gasps out loud, and the two boys wear identical expressions of shock, their jaws dropped. Taking advantage of their stunned stupor, you ask: <<include "askthekids">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("ask_kids_suspicious")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Have you noticed anything suspicious around here recently?"</div>' 'ask_kids_suspicious'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("ask_kids_strangers")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Have you seen any other strangers around here?"</div>' 'ask_kids_strangers'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("ask_kids_changed")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Has anything around here changed?"</div>' 'ask_kids_changed'>><<set $askthelot to true>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Let them go. You don't have anything else to ask.</div>' 'let_kids_go'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"Has anyone you know been acting strangely, or have you seen something that stood out?" The kids all glance at each other, then shake their heads. "My mother's worried about Qael-Qanaeon," the girl says cautiously. "But everyone is. That's not strange or suspicious." <<include "askthekids">>

"Just the Vice Guard," one of the boys says. "Our mothers make us stay inside when they pass through, but that's not often." "And there was that man," the girl reminds him in a whisper. "The Mage, the one that came through with his big cart, selling toys and things?" He shoots her a scornful look. "<<c she>><<nobr>><<if $plural is true>>'re<<else>>'s<</if>><</nobr>> not talking about something like <i>that</i>." Her cheeks color. "<<c she>> asked about strangers, and he's a stranger!" <<include "askthekids">>

The kids frown, as if puzzled by this question. "Changed?" one of the boys echoes. "Changed how?" You shake your head. "Anything you can think of could be helpful." <i>A feeling of wrongness, a foul taste in the water, something that could lead us to whatever poisoned the tree… </i> The three children glance at each other, silent questions in their gazes; they seem genuinely baffled by your query. Finally the other boy says doubtfully, "Well… I can't think of anything, except that when the snow melted, there was a new hill. Over there." He points to another empty dirt lot, wedged between two apartment buildings. "We like to play on it now. Wasn't there in the fall." <<include "askthekids">>

You thank the children and dismiss them, and they scamper away, clearly eager to debrief after their exciting encounter with you. <<include "investigateqq2">>

<<nobr>><<if $compassionate >= 50>> However, you aren't intimidating enough to arrest their flight, and the three children all dart off, scattering like rabbits fleeing a hawk's dive. Sighing, you turn back to the (significantly-quieter) square. <<include "investigateqq2">> <<else>> The three children flinch at the steel in your tone, freezing in place and looking at you with wide, frightened eyes. But they stay put, quivering with anticipation mid-run like rabbits pinned by a hawk's gaze. But the sight of your medallion seems to arrest them. <br><br> "Wh—what is it that you want?" the bolder of the boys asks querulously. "Our parents—said we shouldn't speak to strangers—" <br><br> You cut him off before they can get even more nervous. "I just want to ask you a few questions. I'm trying to find out what's wrong with Qael-Qanaeon." <br><br> A pause; the three kids glance at each other, and while they don't relax, you sense them becoming more cooperative. "How do we help you with that?" the girl asks, cautious and skeptical. <<include "askthekids">> <</if>><</nobr>>

The children all dart off in different directions, scattering like rabbits fleeing a hawk's dive. Sighing, you turn back to the (significantly-quieter) square. <<include "investigateqq2">>

Before you can do so, however, you hear a sharp, quiet whistle, a sound Shepherds use in the field to get each other's attention. You glance over to find Halek <<nobr>><<if $askthelot is true>> already standing in the lot that the kids indicated, <<elseif $houndlot is true>> already standing in the lot that the Ordelian hound indicated, <<else>> standing in one of the empty lots wedged between two apartment buildings, comprising of bare compact dirt, <</if>><</nobr>> his hands shoved into his coat pockets as he scuffs at a small, barely-perceptible mound with his boot. Tallys and Lavinet break off from their conversations, and the three of you approach him; Halek's expression is casual and placid, but there's a hard set to his jaw that wasn't there before, and his gray eyes have lightened to a brighter, glaring steel color. "I think I found it," he announces. "Whatever's wrong with Qael-Qanaeon, there's something that smells just like it under <i>there</i>." He scuffs at the small hump of dirt, about the length of a man, barely noticeable even when you're staring directly at it. A chill runs up your spine when you consider that it looks to be the size of an old, unmarked grave. Lavinet sighs in resignation. "I suppose we should dig, then." <<page_break "Next" "digging_results">>

The convenient thing about magic is that it takes barely any effort at all to shove dirt aside and levitate earth out of a hole: no shovels and hours of chipping away at hard, half-frozen ground needed. Within minutes, you've cleared out a pit that's about six feet deep as well as six feet long, though the deeper and deeper you dig, the more that prickling sense of disquiet needles you. Although this is a trivial spell for you to perform, you find that you're sweating, something in your gut rollicking uneasily towards nausea. A kind of thumping pressure exerts itself on your chest, making it slightly more difficult to breathe, your heart churning noisily as you work. By the time you're finished, you're not sure what you're left staring at. At the bottom of the hole is a large, half-rotting tarp, which seems to be wrapped around a huge mound of shiny, beetle-black lumps of coal. You don't recognize the material, but something about the smell of it rising out of the pit—something sickly-sweet, almost floral, with an acrid, putrid scent underneath it—seems terribly familiar. Lavinet covers her mouth and nose with her sleeve and backs away slightly, shuddering as if the pit is releasing noxious fumes. You notice a few tiny tree roots, dry and blackened and dead, poking out of the sides of the pit, and you know instinctively that they're part of Qael-Qanaeon's massive root network. Whatever was buried here must have poisoned the earth around it, touching Qael-Qanaeon's far-reaching nodes and rootlets and sending the infection all through its system as a result. But what <i>is</i> it? Beside you, Halek is trembling: all the cords in his neck stand out like tight cables. "Demon," he chants in a dry, flat voice, hardly seeming to breathe as his pupils narrow to deadly points. It's not the blood-rage, but it's something close. "Demon, demon, demon, it's here, <i>it's a Faceless Lord</i>—" What? You stare down into the pit again, at the pile of black, seething material. A Faceless Lord—? Tallys lets out a hissing breath of realization, then. "Gods help us," she breathes, rocking back on her heels. "We've seen that before—Benir Roxak—" She turns wide, despairing eyes towards you. "It's Black Sun!" <<page_break "Next" "black_sun_discovery">>

<i>How could this have happened?</i> It's the question that keeps echoing in your mind over and over, one that circles invisibly over your team like a carrion bird as you work to cordon off the area. You call in a pair of recruits to keep inquisitive bystanders from interfering with the… evidence, but you make sure not to offer too many details—not even to them. You need to get to the bottom of all of this before word begins to spread throughout the Quarter. Once the Elves find out that their treasured heartwood tree has been poisoned with Black Sun—with the very poisonous essence of a Faceless Lord—there's no telling what will happen. From the ashen look on Tallys's face, you can't imagine it will be anything good. The only luck that you can claim is that the Elven aversion to direct questioning deters anyone from approaching you or even scrutinizing what's going on too obviously. Any passersby politely attempt to pretend that you—and the massive pit you've dug—simply aren't there. Hopefully you can keep it that way for a little while longer. Halek, his nostrils flaring, says in a tight, quiet voice very unlike his usual drawl: "How the fuck could this have happened? Who would have put something like <i>that</i> there? And why here, of all places?" His jaw is very set; although he hasn't flown into the blood-rage, since he hasn't scented a <i>live</i> demon, his proximity to the Faceless Lord's essence clearly makes him uncomfortable. "I don't know." You rub your forehead with your fist, trying to think back to that fateful mission. <<nobr>><<if $followedriel is true>> Meeting Riel at his raided caravan, <<elseif $followedchase is true>> Following Chase to his hideout, <</if>> <<if $rielinvestigation is true>> attending the Trade Minister's gala… <<elseif $chaseinvestigation is true>> raiding the Black Sun factory… <</if>> <</nobr>> It all feels like so long ago. You can't remember exactly who seized the Black Sun—the logistical details towards the end of that night are fuzzy, for obvious reasons—but you do remember that the Autarchy immediately declared the drug banned from the city and condemned it to be destroyed before it could hurt anyone else. But by whom? Was it the Shepherds who took control of it, or the Inquisition, or someone else entirely? Tallys, when you voice these thoughts aloud, glances uneasily down into the pit. "It wasn't us, I remember that. I believe it might have been the Inquisition. But this amount is nowhere close to what was taken from <<nobr>><<if $chaseinvestigation is true>> Buubas's factory," <<else>> the factory, or even the cellar beneath the Trade Minister's mansion," <</if>><</nobr>> she says in a low voice. "And although the Autarchy declared it contraband, the drug had weeks to circulate throughout the city before that: this very well could be a private store that a citizen had hoarded for themselves, something that would have eluded our efforts to destroy it. Perhaps they feared retribution or punishment, so they attempted to get rid of it themselves by burying it here?" "But again, why here?" Lavinet interrupts then. "And why now? It's nearly a year later. Unless…" A worried line appears between her brows, and she glances around furtively before lowering her voice. "You don't think it could have been a resident of the Quarter, do you?" Tallys arches a brow at her, but Halek cuts in: "She's right. It makes more sense that it would be someone who's familiar with the neighborhood—it's highly doubtful an outsider would venture all the way <i>here</i> to bury their stash—and Elves do have a skewed concept of time, what with the fact they live forever. Sorry, Tallys, but that's just a fact; they could have intended to wait a month for all of the heat to die down and didn't realize it ended up being nearly a year. Plus, with the whole—whatever, gossipy, perfectionist culture—all the sneaking around and burying the evidence in the dead of night makes some sense. It'd be a mark of shame, wouldn't it, to fall victim to a drug like Black Sun?" "As it would in any culture," Tallys hisses. "And no Elf did this, I promise you. They <i>never</i> would have risked poisoning the earth this way, or harming Qael-Qanaeon." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"They probably didn't know it would have anything to do with Qael-Qanaeon. No one could have. We're half a mile away from the tree: I don't think anyone would expect its roots to spread so far."</div>' 'elven_knowledge_response'>><<setlavinet +2>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Tallys is right. It doesn't really make sense for an Elf to have done this. They're taught to be too mindful of the environment to bury Black Sun in their own soil."</div>' 'elves_mindful_response'>><<settallys +2>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Remain silent.</div>' 'remain_silent_response'>><<setlavinet -4>><<settallys -4>><<setloyal -5>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"The Elves would have," Tallys repeats tightly. "They can <i>hear</i> the tree, for heavens' sake." <<include "investigate_further">>

"Unless they did it on purpose," Lavinet murmurs. "Just as with any race, the Elves cannot be a single monolith." <<include "investigate_further">>

<<include "investigate_further">>

"Well, where's the best place we can go to investigate further?" Halek asks. "Obviously we need to follow up on which agency was responsible for disposing of the Black Sun you uncovered back in the fall. But assuming this stash <i>isn't</i> part of that and came from some other source… I doubt canvassing the neighborhood for witnesses is going to prove all that fruitful, since surely if anyone saw anything suspicious, they would have reported it by now. So how else are we going to root out suspects?" "The woman I spoke to mentioned Vice Guard patrols through this neighborhood," Lavinet interjects. "If they had a modicum of diligence, they would have noted and reported on any unusual or suspicious activity in the area, don't you think? Perhaps looking through their files could give us some names or places to start with. Maybe even the names of any known Black Sun addicts who would have been picked up from this area at some point in time." You and Tallys exchange looks. Lavinet, ever perceptive, says keenly, "What is it?" "I doubt it's going to be as easy as walking in and asking for their reports," you tell her. From experience, you know cooperation between the Autarchy's three peacekeeping agencies—the Vice Guard, the Shepherds, and the Inquisition—is begrudging at best. Normally you have to go through layers of paperwork, requests, messages, meetings, and very possibly a threat or two just to extract a sliver of useful information from either one of them; relations are so tense between your agencies (with punches between officers being thrown with disappointing regularity—Trouble and Ayla being among their number—) that a special office within the Shepherds' Order had to be formed just to serve as a buffer. Right now, though, you don't have time to rely on the Agency Coordination division to handle things for you: you need to get to the bottom of this now, before people start becoming impatient for answers about Qael-Qanaeon. Or before they begin realizing that the tree's condition is much graver than anyone anticipated. Lavinet's chin lifts when you inform her of these obstacles. "We are Shepherds," she says, with a trace of her aristocrat's haughtiness. "And we are pursuing an investigation that could determine the overall peace of the city. If they don't want to help us, we'll <i>make</i> them. By any means possible." Halek raises his brows at that, and even Tallys looks faintly impressed. You sigh. "All right, then," you say grimly. "Let's go digging." <<page_break "Next" "vice_guard_trek">>

The trek to the Ashtown Vice Guard station is a grim and silent one, feeling a little like a prisoner's march to the gallows. Each of you seems lost in your own thoughts—there's also the air of soldiers armoring themselves before a battle with a dispiriting forecast—until Halek says bluntly, "This probably isn't the politest thing to ask, but Ashaniel's leg…" Tallys stirs, looking around and blinking at him slowly like a sleeper waking up from a long dream. "He was injured in the Castigation," she says finally. "Ashaniel of the House of Lithdel was one of our greatest generals, once upon a time, serving the kings and queens of Sylfaen as a military commander until the fall of that city. He was decorated with our highest honors during the Era of the Stars." You watch the color drain from Lavinet's face as she does the math. That would have been more than a thousand years ago. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Those honors didn't really help him win, did they?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686355'>><<settallys -10>><<setcompassionate -3>><<setcharisma -3>><<setcourage +2>><<setlavinet -5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I thought Elven healing would have helped his leg recover better."</div>' 'elven_healing_question'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Do you get the sense that he resents the Autarchy or the Norms for what happened?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686356'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $tallysromanceflag >= 5>> <<set $tallysromanceflag -= 5>> <</if>><</nobr>> Both Tallys and Lavinet glance at you sharply, while Halek winces. Tallys doesn't deign to give your comment a response, but her silence is steeped with clear disgust and disapproval. <<include 'arrive_at_vice_guard'>>

Lavinet's spine stiffens, while Halek looks intrigued. Tallys merely says calmly, "No more than anyone else in his position would." It's a very Elven type of non-answer, but it tells you enough. <<include 'arrive_at_vice_guard'>>

Tallys shakes her head. "I don't know the full story behind it," she says slowly, "but it wouldn't surprise me to learn that he deliberately refused healing at the time. He, along with the other commanders, held himself responsible for the burning of Sylfaen. It wouldn't be out of the question if he considered himself unworthy of healing." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"That's understandable."</div>' 'arrive_at_vice_guard'>><<set $tallysharden -= 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"That kind of thinking doesn't help anybody."</div>' 'autogenerated_686357'>><<set $tallysharden += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I see."</div>' 'arrive_at_vice_guard'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Tallys blinks, but but seems to have nothing more to say at the moment. <<include 'arrive_at_vice_guard'>>

Then you're arriving at the Vice Guard station, not nearly as imposing as the main barracks and headquarters stationed at the top of the city, but an unfriendly and unwelcoming place nonetheless: it's a squareish, graystone keep with an attached walled courtyard and gaol, thin arrowslits punctured in its face like wounds. It even has a damn portcullis, hanging over you like teeth in a giant maw as you pass beneath its shadow. The officer at the gatehouse takes one look at you in your uniforms and half-rises uncertainly, your sudden appearance clearly taking him by surprise. However, his voice is hard and assured as he barks out, "State your business." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Brush past him without acknowledging him.</div>' 'brush_past_him'>><<setloyal -5>><<setcourage +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Stop and state your business. "I'm <<c rank>> <<c firstname>> <<c surname>> of the Order of the Shepherds. We need to speak to whomever is in charge of arranging patrols in Ashtown."</div>' 'state_business'>><<setloyal +5>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Eye him with disdain. "I'd rethink how you address me, swabbie." It's military slang for a low-ranking cadet whose job and worth is to mop floors.</div>' 'disdain_swabbie'>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setcourage +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"What the—<i>oi</i>! You can't just—!" The young man's startled cry draws the attention of other officers milling about in the keep's small yard; you see several eyes snap towards you, and more than one hand drop to the truncheons or even the revolvers buckled against gray-uniformed hips. Beside you, Halek's hand touches his spear, and Tallys is drawn tighter than a bowstring, so still you think she's about to snap. You're outnumbered at least a dozen to one here. <<include "new_voice_interrupts">>

The young man stares at you for a moment; you can clearly see the wheels in his head turning as he struggles to process what you've just said. He opens his mouth—and you have no doubt from his expression that he intends to either turn you away or ask for proof of some appointment that you don't have— <<include "new_voice_interrupts">>

The young man's jaw positively drops; he's clearly not accustomed to being addressed in such a manner, at least not by an outsider. You watch as incomprehension, then hatred, ignites in his eyes, and you tense your arm slightly, feeling the comforting press of your $mainweapon against your hip. Beside you, Halek's hand touches his spear, and Tallys is drawn tighter than a bowstring, so still you think she's about to snap. You're outnumbered at least a dozen to one here. <<include "new_voice_interrupts">>

And then another voice cuts in, confident, self-assured, and faintly impatient. "What's going on here?" You turn to address the new speaker, another young man with neatly-cut dark brown hair, dishwater-gray eyes, and a rich, robust waxed mustache that makes him look ten years older than he really is. That, coupled with the red-and-gold stripe on his shoulder, cloaks him with an aura of arrogant authority; the watchman on guard scrambles to salute his obvious superior while the newcomer assesses you from head to toe at his leisure, obviously having just come in from the street behind you. <<include "ifstaycainealeccross">>

<<nobr>><<if $staycaine is true>> Then something strange happens; the mustachioed man seems to recognize you. Suddenly his expression slackens, and the color seems to flee from his face. You stare back at him, uncomprehending. Do you know this person? <br><br> Lavinet cuts in smoothly to make your introductions, but the Vice Guard captain—whom the guard addresses as "Cross"—doesn't seem to register her words at all, his gaze locked utterly on yours. You're desperately trying to place him in the annals of your memory (where would you have become acquainted with a Vice Guard captain who recognized you on sight?) as you watch a flush steadily creep up his neck. Ultimately that does it: a sudden image, bolt-quick, abruptly sparks into your mind as you watch his jaw work in silent shock. The visage of an uncertain, jumpy young Vice Guard, barring you from entering the city because a petty meat merchant wanted to punish you for associating with his apprentice… <<if $kissguard is true>> <i>And then kissing him to secure your entrance</i>… <</if>> <br><br> Your stomach hitches as it all falls into place. <<if $god is "god">> God in Heaven. <<elseif $god is "gods">> Lords above. <<else>> Hael's bells. <</if>> Why, of all the Vice Guards in the entire city, did it have to be <i>this guy</i>? <<else>> "Good afternoon," Lavinet cuts in smoothly, her tone very pleasant. She inclines her head in an unmistakable aristocrat's acknowledgment of a social inferior. "I am Lady Naveen, lately of Lockwood, now Captain of the Shepherds' Order. We were just dropping by to see if your commander, Commissioner Alberich, was available? I am well-acquainted with his younger sister, as well as the family of Minister Gisseltess, his patron and mentor in the Consortium…" <br><br> It's not exactly up to snuff when it comes to Lavinet's usual subtlety, but the name-dropping does the trick; the Vice Guard captain stares at her with newfound wariness and consideration. Finally he says reluctantly, "Commissioner Alberich doesn't spend his time here: his office is in the main barracks, up in the Sun Court." <br><br> "Ah," Lavinet says, her mouth stretching in a pretty painted smile. "My mistake. Well, so long as we're here, we have another little errand to attend to. Is there anyone who can help us with that?" <br><br> The Vice Guard captain regards you for another long moment, obviously weighing the wisdom of telling a well-connected noble (let alone high-ranking members of the Shepherds) to piss off. Finally he grates out, "Follow me," and stiffly pushes past you to lead the way into the keep. <br><br> "How gracious," Lavinet practically coos. You swear she might wink at you as you follow in the captain's wake, now well-insulated against the stares and outright shock of other Vice Guards startled to find you among their ranks. You feel like a group of foxes being let into a henhouse… Now it's just a matter of making your way back out with your prize. <</if>><</nobr>> <<page_break "Next" "captain_alec_cross">>

Captain Alec Cross leads you through the slate halls of the Vice Guard station, a dull, unpleasant place full of hollow echoes and blank stone. It's so different from the Shepherds' headquarters, you think—but, of course, this station wasn't built inside of a defunct Mage's tower, rich and alive and humming with subliminal power. It's also just a workplace, not a home. Cross directs you into a small, cramped office, kept ruthlessly neat despite its rigid confines. Walking behind a desk overspilling with papers, he turns on his heel—a very military about-face, missing only a heel-click—before he stands stiffly at parade rest, his hands tucked behind his back. <<nobr>><<if $staycaine is true>> He doesn't make eye contact with you again. You could always follow his lead and pretend you either don't know him or recognize him, you suppose. <</if>><</nobr>> "Well?" he says coolly, directing his gaze towards Lavinet. "What brings you to our little outpost? It's not often that we're visited by a team of Shepherds." There's a hint of sarcasm in his tone, and he doesn't offer you chairs, either, though they probably wouldn't fit in the room, anyway. It's clear that he wants to usher you out as soon as possible. Hoping to use this to your advantage, you answer just as coolly, "We're looking to speak to whoever patrols through the Elven Quarter, and to read their reports from over the last few weeks. Or months." Alec Cross raises his eyebrow. "For what purpose?" he asks. At your exasperated look, he adds tartly, "It's already highly unusual to waltz in and demand protected paperwork and information, let alone access to our officers. I'm going to need some proof that you have cause to be doing this." It's true—you do have to meet the "evidentiary threshold" to exercise your Shepherd powers like this—so you briefly explain to him all that you've uncovered about Qael-Qanaeon and Black Sun. When you're done speaking, Alec says flatly, "All this… for a tree?" He seems genuinely confounded that you'd go to so much effort over what sounds to him like a gardening issue. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"For a religious icon, for all intents and purposes. That tree is holy to a whole swathe of the city. It'd be the same as if someone destroyed a church."</div>' 'cross_response'>><<settallys +2>><<set $elves += 2>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"For peace. You do realize that if we don't provide answers, riots or even an Uprising could break out?"</div>' 'cross_response'>><<setloyal +1>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"For our duty. Whatever the assignment is, we see it through to its end. I'd hope you do the same in your own police work."</div>' 'cross_response'>><<setloyal +5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Yep, for a really big, really old tree. Pretty crazy, right?"</div>' 'cross_response'>><<settallys -5>><<set $elves -= 5>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Cross grunts, unimpressed. "Fine," he says, curt, "you can look through the reports. But I don't think you need to be interviewing the officers themselves. They're busy performing their own duties, and there's nothing they can tell you that won't be in their paperwork, anyway." It's the usual refrain, one that you expected from the moment you realized you'd have to be paying the Vice Guard a visit. Whether it's good old-fashioned rivalry, discrimination against the Diminished, envy towards a newer agency getting better resources, funding, and publicity, or just plain laziness and incompetence, Vice Guards will usually do everything they can to resist helping Shepherds, even though you all technically work for the same government… and ostensibly both for the greater good. From the look on his face, though, you can tell Alec Cross doesn't count helping Qael-Qanaeon as part of that greater good, and so he's not going to shift things overmuch and inconvenience people or bring things to a grinding halt just to help you in your investigation. Unless you decide to take matters into your own hands… <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $staycaine is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"You really haven't changed, have you?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686358'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $kissguardsuccess is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Aw, come on, Alec. Not even for old times' sake?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686359'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $rank is "Commander">><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm Commander of the Shepherds, you know. Not the kind of person you'd want to drag your feet in front of."</div>' 'autogenerated_686360'>><<setloyal +1>><<setcourage +1>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"That's fine. I'll be happy to drag this out until those officers are ready to talk to me. I can come back and visit tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that..."</div>' 'captain_cross_gives_in'>><<setcharisma +1>><<setcunning +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You seem to be under the impression that I'm asking. I'll be interviewing those officers whether you like it or not."</div>' 'autogenerated_686361'>><<setcompassionate -2>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"If anything unfortunate happens as a result of you slowing down this case, I'll be sure to give your name to whoever asks."</div>' 'autogenerated_686362'>><<setcunning +2>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Please. We all work for the same cause, don't we? It will only take a few minutes, and if it wasn't important, we wouldn't have come here."</div>' 'autogenerated_686363'>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"Slap a new pair of stripes on, but the man underneath doesn't change," you say mockingly. "What, are you still looking for a bribe?" Cross stiffens, and two spots of color appear high on his cheekbones just as your other teammates turn to stare at you curiously. "Do you… know each other?" Halek asks in disbelief. You nod, your gaze not leaving Alec Cross's as you state, "The first day I arrived in Haven, <i>he</i> stopped me at the gates and almost didn't let me into the city. All on the word of a meat merchant who claimed I didn't love the Autarchy as much as I should have." You smirk, shifting on your feet and knowing how the medallion on your chest glints with the movement. "Ironic, isn't it?" Tallys barks out a short laugh, uncharacteristically harsh for her. "More than. Can you imagine how many people would have died if he'd succeeded in barring you? What kind of calamities that would have ensued if you hadn't been there to avert them?" She glances at Cross with newfound contempt. "<<c she>><<nobr>><<if $plural is true>>'re<<else>>'s<</if>><</nobr>> the Hero of Haven, you know." Cross glances at you, a muscle in his cheek twitching. "You're not," he says, half-scoffing, half-uncertain. "Oh, I am," you return with a fierce, sharp grin of your own. "And do you really want to make the mistake of standing in my way twice?" <<include 'captain_cross_gives_in'>>

<<nobr>><<if ($tallyssex is true) or ($tallysromance is true)>> <<set $tallysromanceflag -= 5>> <</if>> <<if $lavinetromanceflag >= 5>> <<set $lavinetromanceflag -= 5>> <</if>><</nobr>> Cross's jaw actually physically drops, while your teammates' heads universally swivel towards you, incredulous. Lavinet's eyes are practically popping out of her head, while Tallys fixes you with a blank <i>Please tell me you're not serious</i> stare. "No way," Halek whispers, half-appalled, half-delighted. "<i>No way</i>. You two…?" <<include 'seduce_cross_choices'>>

Cross regards you for a moment, almost looking as if he doesn't believe you—but he must see something in your expression that confirms your authority, because he suddenly looks away. <<include 'captain_cross_gives_in'>>

Cross's eyes narrow. "You can't threaten me." "I'm not threatening you," you tell him. "I'm <i>informing</i> you. That's just what's going to happen. If you feel really that inclined to stop me, you're welcome to try." Cross regards you for a moment, his stare hard and bullet-like, before he sees the steel in your own gaze and is forced to look away. <<include 'captain_cross_gives_in'>>

Cross's eyes narrow. "Is that a threat?" "No," you reply calmly, "it's a promise. Whether it's the Autarch's men, wanting to know why the streets erupted into chaos, or the citizens themselves, wanting to put the culprit's head on a pike… I'll be sure to let them know <i>you</i> stood in the way of answers just because you didn't want to bother doing your job. Your full name is Alec Cross, right? Is that with a 'c' or a 'k'?" <<include 'captain_cross_gives_in'>>

Cross stares at you for a moment, hard, before he sees the earnestness in your gaze and is forced to look away. <<include 'captain_cross_gives_in'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if ($courage >= 60) and ($charisma >= 75)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Could you all give us a moment? Alone?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686364'>><<set $seducecross to true>><<setcunning +2>><<setcharisma +3>><<setloyal -3>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($courage < 60) or ($charisma < 75)>><div class="inactive-item">"Could you all give us a moment? Alone?"</div><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"It was just a kiss, paid by a mercenary desperate to get into the city. But it wouldn't be very good for Captain Cross's reputation for that little story to get around, would it?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686365'>><<setcunning +3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if ($tallysromanceflag >= 5) or ($tallyssex is true) or ($tallysromance is true)>> <<set $tallys -= 5>> <<set $tallysromanceflag -= 10>> <</if>> <<if $lavinetromanceflag >= 5>> <<set $lavinetromanceflag -= 5>> <<set $lavinet -= 5>> <<else>> <<set $lavinet += 1>> <</if>> <<if $sheryromanceflag >= 5>> <<set $sheryromanceflag -= 5>> <</if>> <<if $bladeromanceflag >= 5>> <<set $bladeromanceflag -= 1>> <</if>> <<if $troubleromanceflag >= 5>> <<set $troubleromanceflag -= 1>> <</if>> <<if $brionyromanceflag >= 5>> <<set $brionyromanceflag -= 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> <<nobr>><<if ($tallysromanceflag >= 5) or ($tallyssex is true) or ($tallysromance is true)>> From the corner of your eye, you see Tallys's face go tight and bloodless, her expression closing off like a castle under siege. <</if>> <<if $lavinetromanceflag >= 5>> Lavinet's face is a mask of courtier stillness; however, you see her hand twitch, as if resisting the urge to curl into a fist. She purses her lips and looks away. <</if>> <<if ($tallysromanceflag < 5) or ($tallyssex is false) or ($tallysromance is false) or ($lavinetromanceflag < 5)>> Tallys shifts restlessly. "<<c firstname>>…" <<else>> Tallys shifts restlessly. "<<c firstname>>…" <</if>><</nobr>> However, you don't turn your head to look at her, and after a moment of pointed silence, the others turn and wordlessly make their way out of the room. Leaving you and Alec Cross together. Alone. <<include 'seduce_cross_alone'>>

A Vice Guard admitting someone into the city—a Mage he would have otherwise turned away—because he'd been seduced with a kiss and a promise of more? No, such a story would make Cross look like a fool indeed. It might even cause him to lose his coveted new position. Cross's jaw works furiously, opening and closing in silence for several moments, before he says in a hoarse, strangled voice, "No one would believe you." "Maybe they wouldn't, maybe they would," you answer cheerfully. "Is that really a risk you're willing to take, just to protect a little of your underlings' time?" Alec Cross's mouth clicks shut, and the silence between you is as deafening as it is stunned. You can't tell if the others' gazes are shocked or admiring. <<include 'captain_cross_gives_in'>>

<<page_break "Next" "seduce_cross_alone2">>

Cross stands rigidly, his stiff shoulders up like hackles and his eyes staring straight ahead as you circle around his desk and come to a halt in front of him. His hands remain clasped tightly behind his back, but this close, you think you can hear him sucking in his breath and holding it. You bring your hand up, pausing to see his reaction; when he continues staring ahead, stony eyes fixed over your left shoulder and making no move to stop you, you trace your finger coyly along his starched uniform collar. "Ah, Alec," you say teasingly. "Bet you never thought you'd see <i>me</i> again, did you?" Amusement colors your tone as you add, "Or that I would recognize you, especially with that new mustache?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"It's nice, by the way."</div>' 'cross_golden_blossom'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"It's awful, by the way."</div>' 'cross_golden_blossom'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

For a long, stony moment, Cross doesn't answer. Finally he says, his lips barely moving, "I waited, you know. At the Golden Blossom." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"That's your own fault. Not exactly smart to trust someone desperate enough to seduce you just to get into the city."</div>' 'autogenerated_686366'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Poor baby. Guess I just forgot."</div>' 'autogenerated_686367'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I was tempted, you know. But I got caught up in some pressing business and couldn't get away."</div>' 'autogenerated_686368'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"<i>Seduce</i> me…" he grumbles, clearly taking unction at your choice of words. "It was a mere flirtation, nothing more." <<include 'cross_convince_end1'>>

His neck flushes an ugly color. "You won't make a fool of me again," he hisses. <<include 'cross_convince_end2'>>

Almost too quickly to perceive, Alec's eyes flick down towards you, then skip away. "Regardless," he says gruffly. "That has no bearing on the matter at hand." <<include 'cross_convince_end3'>>

"Then why'd you wait at the Golden Blossom afterwards?" <<include "cross_convince_end">>

"Won't I?" <<include "cross_convince_end">>

"Doesn't it?" <<include "cross_convince_end">>

You let your finger trail idly down his chest. The lower you go, the more his breath seems to stutter. And yet he also seems powerless to stop you. "You're really going to refuse to help out an old flame?" He stirs irritably. "We're <i>not</i>—" "<i>Old acquaintance</i>, then. Come on. Could it really hurt to make me happy?" Your fingertip slips down his torso and then halts, feather-light, at his silver belt buckle. Despite himself, Alec Cross shivers. "We could even have a do-over, if you wanted." Perhaps sensing the danger of letting things continue any further, the Vice Guard captain finally leans away from you, rocking back on his heels as if you'd punched him. "I'm not fool enough to fall for that again," he says irritably. "I'm no longer interested, Mage." Still, his gaze skitters away from yours as he adds begrudgingly, "But if it will get you out of my hair faster, fine. You've proven to be a persistent nuisance. So conduct your interviews and then get out of my sight." You grin at him. "Much obliged, Captain." <<page_break "Next" "interviewriegar">>

"<i>Fine</i>," the man growls, his shoulders hunching with a shade of annoyed petulance that he must be careful to conceal around his coworkers and subordinates. Angrily, he riffles through some papers on his desk before rapping out sharply, "There are two officers who patrol in the Elven Quarter regularly. Partners. Officer Kerne and Corporal Riegar. Luckily for you, they should be on-base today." "Perfect." You smile at him. "Do you have any empty offices we could use?" <<page_break "Next" "interviewriegar">>

Predictably, the Vice Guards' reports seem to hold little of use as you scan through them, waiting for Cross to track down officers Andrius Kerne and Valri Riegar. Having commandeered an unused interrogation room, you, Halek, Tallys, and Lavinet flip through months of routine paperwork; Lavinet makes an irritated noise and remarks, "They're much more lax about their records than we are. Most of these simply say '<i>Nothing of note to report</i>' and leave it at that, which I feel just can't be true unless they're particularly unobservant. Riel and Blade would never allow such lack of detail." "On the flip side, it does make it easier to comb through a year of reports," Halek notes in a sardonic drawl. He's taken to sorting his pile into two different stacks: the one with 'significant incidents' is only a few sheets, mostly entailing run-ins with everyday hooligans or vandals, from the looks of it. "The whole operation around Black Sun came to a head sometime around the last Candle Day, didn't it? I'm already at that point, and I haven't seen anything of note. Yet." "Has anyone seen the paperwork regarding who was in charge of disposing of it?" you ask, looking around at the mountain of papers surrounding you. Alec Cross confirmed that it was the Inquisition, as you'd suspected, and that their process of destroying it was all well-recorded and above board, but you'd like to see official paperwork verifying that. The others shake their head. "I think Cross went to look for that in their archives," Tallys murmurs. <<nobr>><<if $seducecross is true>> Although she says it in her usual composed way, you detect a thread of meaning beneath the statement. The others are all still eyeing you sidelong like a trio of mistrustful pack animals, unsure of what their rider is going to foolishly attempt next. At the mention of Cross's name, Lavinet stirs restlessly and says to you in a whisper, "<<c firstname>>, what <i>happened</i> in there? You didn't—?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I did what I had to do."</div>' 'autogenerated_686369'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I just turned the ol' <<c surname>> charm on him. No big deal."</div>' 'autogenerated_686370'>><<setcharisma +1>><<sethalek +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I just decided to have a little fun with him, that's all."</div>' 'autogenerated_686371'>><<setcunning +1>><<setcompassionate -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Does it really matter what I did? It got us results, didn't it?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686372'>><<setcompassionate -1>><<setloyal -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Remain smugly silent.</div>' 'autogenerated_686373'>><<setlavinet -3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <<else>> <br><br> <<include "vice_guard_officers">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if ($tallyssex is true) or ($tallysromance is true)>> <<set $tallys -= 2>> <<set $tallysromanceflag -= 2>> "Did you, though?" Tallys murmurs, almost too quietly to hear. <br><br> <<elseif $lavinetromanceflag < 5>> "<i>Darling</i>," Lavinet exclaims, with a hint of conspiratorial glee. "I knew you were dedicated to the Shepherds, but to take your duties this far…" She sounds almost admiring. "How daring of you!" <br><br> <</if>><</nobr>> "You absolutely swived that guy, right?" Halek interrupts then. "Just so we're all on the same page." <<include 'seducecross_interrogate'>>

<<nobr>><<if $lavinetromanceflag < 5>> <<set $lavinet += 2>> <</if>> <<if $lavinetromanceflag >= 5>> <<set $lavinetromanceflag -= 2>> "It leads one to wonder how else you decide to utilize that charm," Lavinet remarks, a bit tartly. <br><br> <<else>> "<i>Darling</i>," Lavinet exclaims, with a hint of conspiratorial glee. "I knew you were dedicated to the Shepherds, but to take your duties this far…" She sounds almost admiring. "How daring of you!" <br><br> <</if>><</nobr>> "You absolutely swived that guy, right?" Halek interrupts then. "Just so we're all on the same page." <<include 'seducecross_interrogate'>>

<<nobr>><<if $lavinetromanceflag >= 5>> <<set $lavinetromanceflag -= 5>> "It leads one to wonder how else you like to have fun," Lavinet remarks, a bit tartly. <br><br> <<else>> "<i>Darling</i>," Lavinet exclaims, with a hint of conspiratorial glee. "I knew you were dedicated to the Shepherds, but to take your duties this far…" She sounds almost admiring. "How daring of you!" <br><br> <</if>><</nobr>> "You absolutely swived that guy, right?" Halek interrupts then. "Just so we're all on the same page." <<include 'seducecross_interrogate'>>

<<nobr>><<if $lavinetromanceflag < 5>> "<i>Darling</i>," Lavinet exclaims, with a hint of conspiratorial glee. "I knew you were dedicated to the Shepherds, but to take your duties this far…" She sounds almost admiring. "How daring of you!" <br><br> <</if>><</nobr>> "You absolutely swived that guy, right?" Halek interrupts then. "Just so we're all on the same page." <<include 'seducecross_interrogate'>>

Lavinet tsks, evidently miffed by your silence. "You absolutely swived that guy, right?" Halek interrupts then. "Just so we're all on the same page." <<include 'seducecross_interrogate'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I once promised to, when he was a lowly guard who wouldn't let me into the city. Then I stood him up and never expected to meet him again."</div>' 'autogenerated_686374'>><<settallys +1>><<setlavinet +1>><<sethalek +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I could've, but I didn't."</div>' 'vice_guard_officers'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"He <i>wishes</i>."</div>' 'autogenerated_686375'>><<sethalek +2>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Eh, I thought about it. Just haven't gotten the chance yet."</div>' 'autogenerated_686376'>><<settallys -3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Remain smugly silent.</div>' 'vice_guard_officers'>><<sethalek +1>><<setlavinet -1>><<settallys -1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"Damn," Halek says admiringly. Tallys's troubled look clears slightly, while Lavinet exclaims, "And to leverage his clear attraction to you, even in this situation…" She shakes her head. "You're wasted with the Shepherds. You should be playing the Grand Illusion in the Sun Court with the best of them." Tallys shoots her a scathing look of disagreement, but mercifully decides to hold her tongue. <<include 'vice_guard_officers'>>

Halek lets out a short bark of amusement. "I wish I had even half of your swagger, <<c firstname>>." <<include 'vice_guard_officers'>>

<<nobr>><<if $tallysromance is true or $tallyssex is true>> <<set $tallysromanceflag -= 10>> <</if>> <<if $lavinetromanceflag >= 5>> <<set $lavinetromanceflag -= 5>> <</if>><</nobr>> Halek lets out a short bark of amusement. "I wish I had even half of your swagger, <<c firstname>>." <<include 'vice_guard_officers'>>

<<nobr>><<set $kernebreak to 0>> <<set $riegarbreak to 0>> <<set $discrepancydemon to false>> <<set $blacksundiscrepancy to false>> <<set $suspiciousmage to false>> <<set $kernereason to false>> <<set $riegarreason to false>><</nobr>>At that moment, the door opens, and two extremely sullen-looking Vice Guard officers troop in. The four of you rise to your feet, almost out of instinct; along with the unfriendly looks on their faces, these Guards are positively <i>hulking</i>. The heavy-browed man, Andrius Kerne, almost matches Halek in height, while his partner, Valri Riegar, is a brawny, strong-jawed bruiser with a ferocious scowl. Andrius has shoulder-length brown hair, weathered brown skin, and blank gray eyes, while Valri has her white-blonde hair cut extremely short, with pale, flushed skin and piercing blue eyes. They pause for a moment, clearly unsure of how to treat you or where to place you in their workplace hierarchy, before reluctantly saluting and standing at parade rest in front of your table. "Cap'n said you wanted to talk to us," Valri says, her wide shoulders flexing as if she wants to cross her arms but is resisting the urge. You nod. "We do, but this room's probably too crowded for all of us to have a meaningful conversation." It's a tactic you picked up from Riel. Always try and separate the people you're talking to: it gives you likelier odds of unearthing the truth. "Kerne, Captain Prince and I will talk to you in here. Captain Ironwood and Naveen will talk to Riegar in the next room over." There's a few moments of silent reshuffling as you all rearrange yourselves. Tallys and Lavinet leave the room to talk to Valri Riegar, while Andrius Kerne remains riveted to the same spot, his eyes fixed somewhere over your heads like making eye contact with you will provoke some kind of attack. Halek suppresses a yawn and stretches his lean, lanky body out so that he's practically slumped down into his chair; you're not sure if it's a calculated tactic to make the Vice Guard feel more at ease, or if he genuinely doesn't feel like sitting up straight anymore. Kerne says nothing, so you suppose it's up to you to start the discussion. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Talk to him in a casual way, like you're equals.</div>' 'autogenerated_686377'>><<setloyal +1>><</link>> <<if ($rank is "Captain") or ($rank is "Commander")>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Talk to him in a curt way, as a superior to an officer of lower rank.</div>' 'autogenerated_686378'>><<setloyal +1>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($rank is not "Captain") and ($rank is not "Commander")>><div class="inactive-item">Talk to him in a curt way, as a superior to an officer of lower rank.</div><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Talk to him in a chummy way, like you're old friends.</div>' 'autogenerated_686379'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Talk to him in a conspiratorial way, like you know he doesn't want to be there and neither do you.</div>' 'autogenerated_686380'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $charisma >= 50>> <<setcharisma +1>> <</if>><</nobr>> "So. We just have a few questions," you begin in a leisurely manner. Andrius Kerne continues to stare straight ahead, which you take to mean that he's waiting for you to proceed. <<include 'kerneinterrogate15'>>

<<nobr>><<if ($loyal >= 70) or ($compassionate <= 40)>> <<set $kernebreak += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> "We're just going to get straight to the point, Kerne," you begin in a brisk way, not pausing to give him time to respond. "So let's keep it straightforward and simple. No games." <<include 'kerneinterrogate15'>>

<<nobr>><<if $charisma >= 70>> <<setcharisma +1>> <</if>> <<set $kernebreak -= 1>><</nobr>> "So, how are things?" you ask gaily. "Your day going all right so far?" Kerne stares at you stonily for a long moment before replying, "Fine enough. So far." <<include 'kerneinterrogate15'>>

<<nobr>><<if $charisma >= 65>> <<setcharisma +1>> <<set $kernebreak += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> "Look, we're both busy people, so I'll just try and make this as quick as possible. If you do, too, we can both get out of here. Square?" Kerne eyes you warily, but eventually he nods and rumbles, "Sure." His voice is rough, reminding you of old, gnarled wood. <<include 'kerneinterrogate15'>>

You leaf through a few of the papers in front of you. <<include "kerneinterrogate1">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited ("kerne_question_stand_out")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Out of all of the people you've encountered during your patrols to the Elven Quarter, does anyone stand out?"</div>' 'kerne_question_stand_out'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited ("kerne_question_black_sun")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Did you have any run-ins with Black Sun on your beat?"</div>' 'kerne_question_black_sun'>><<set $blacksundiscrepancy to true>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited ("kerne_question_tampering")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Did you ever see anyone tampering with Qael-Qanaeon?"</div>' 'kerne_question_tampering'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited ("kerne_question_hole_followup")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Did you ever see anyone digging or burying a hole?"</div>' 'kerne_question_hole_followup'>><<set $kernebreak += 1>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited ("kerne_question_unusual")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Is there any unusual activity to report from the Elven Quarter?"</div>' 'kerne_question_unusual'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited ("kerne_question_patrol")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"How long have you been assigned to this patrol?"</div>' 'kerne_question_patrol'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You can't think of any more questions to ask him.</div>' 'autogenerated_686381'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

You've run out of questions, but maybe Halek can think of some. You leave him languidly interrogating Andrius Kerne while you rise and make your way out of the tiny room, intending to check on Tallys and Lavinet's progress with Valri Riegar. <<include 'interrogateriegar15'>>

<<page_break "Next" "interrogateriegar1">>

Kerne frowns. "Stand out how?" "In any way you can think of. Who's made themselves known to you? Are there usual suspects, helpful faces?" Every patroller with a regular beat becomes accustomed to the people who live on that route: one gets the sense of who the residents are, who doesn't belong, who's acting unusual and who's following the typical routines. Kerne shrugs. "Dunno. All them Elves look the same to me, except the little ones." <<nobr>><<if $heritage is "Elf">> You notice how his eyes flick to your own half-pointed ears, and you have to keep your hand from making a fist on the table. <</if>><</nobr>> Halek raises a brow. "Do you even know any of their names? Who their elders are?" Kerne snorts derisively. "Why should I? They don't got <i>elders</i>: they're all young, aren't they? And they don't exactly go out of their way to talk to the likes of us. So no, I don't know their names." "But surely there must be troublemakers you remember," you press. "You can't have had totally uneventful patrols every day since you were given this assignment." The Vice Guard officer shrugs. "The Elves are too <i>dignified</i> to make trouble in public, which is the kind we care about. As for troublemakers—sure. Drunkards make their way in most weekends. Gangs like the Sidewinders, the Crimson Knives, the Reapers, and the Brotherhood come through and break windows and try to pick a fight, but that's mostly between each other for turf wars. There's people who leave graffiti: mostly kakhead kids. You want me to look for their names?" You don't miss the note of sarcasm in his voice as he asks this. <<include "kerne_question_stand_out_followup">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"What do you usually do with these people when you catch them?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686382'>><<set $kernebreak -= 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Anyone who struck you as having a particular grudge against the Elves?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686383'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Was there anyone who acted really odd? Someone who could have been possessed by or working for a demon?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686384'>><<set $discrepancydemon to true>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

He shrugs. "Depends on the offense. Sometimes we call in reinforcements and throw 'em in the gaol for a few days to cool off. Other days we run 'em off with a warning." <<include 'kerneinterrogate1'>>

There's a pause as Kerne thinks about this; it looks like he's trying to parse through the implications of what you're asking. Finally he answers, in a faintly nonplussed way: "There are always a few people who run their mouths, sure. One of the gangs, the Reapers, they say it's their mission to drive the Diminished out of Haven and make it pure again. Elftown's one of their targets, but they show up in other places in Ashtown too. Mostly harass old Mages who can't defend themselves or target Ket mercs in taverns as part of their initiation rites." You and Halek glance at each other, raising your eyebrows. Could such a gang go as far as to deliberately poison a great heartwood tree in order to 'drive the Diminished out of Haven'? It seems a very farsighted plan, but some gangs are led by extraordinarily cunning thinkers. "What do the Reapers usually do in the Elven Quarter to accomplish those goals?" you ask. Kerne shrugs. "Mostly piss in places they shouldn't. Sometimes they light things on fire." Hmm. It doesn't exactly speak to high-level criminal thinking, and it doesn't explain where they would have gotten ahold of so much Black Sun… You decide to try a different tact. <<include 'kerneinterrogate1'>>

Kerne snorts. "No," he says, with the promptness of someone telling the truth… or at least, the truth as he believes it. "No one like that." <<include 'kerneinterrogate1'>>

<<nobr>><<if ($cunning >= 50) or ($intelligence >= 50)>> <<set $kernebreak += 1>> You don't miss how Kerne's attention seems to sharpen, how his great oaken shoulders tense just slightly. <<else>> Kerne stares straight ahead. <</if>><</nobr>> "What do you mean?" "I think my question was pretty clear. Have you encountered Black Sun or any incidents relating to it during your patrols?" Kerne looks you dead in the eye. "We weren't assigned that beat 'til a few months after Black Sun was banned by the Autarch," he says. "So it was already out of the city by then. But no, I ain't ever caught an Elf with it, if that's what you mean." A pause. "Why do you ask?" <<include "kerne_question_black_sun_followup">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Tell him the truth. "We've discovered that someone buried a cache of Black Sun in the Elven Quarter, right under your nose. And it's ended up poisoning their sacred heartwood tree. We need to find the people who did that before an all-out riot breaks loose."</div>' 'autogenerated_686385'>><<set $kernebreak += 3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Play your cards close to the chest. "Just a question. It's one of many things we're investigating at the moment."</div>' 'autogenerated_686386'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Kerne's eyes return to their position, somewhere above the tops of your heads. "Oh." <<include 'kerne_black_sun_revelation'>>

The corner of Kerne's mouth turns down, but he has nothing to say to that at the moment. <<include 'kerne_black_sun_revelation'>>

At that moment, you feel a light tapping on the back of your hand, and you glance over at Halek. He slides over one of the reports from his pile: scribbled at the top is fresh ink that reads, <i>He's lying.</i> <<nobr>><<if ($halek >= 65) and ($halektime >= 1)>> <br><br> Full-blooded Hunters, you've discovered during your acquaintance with Halek, possess the unique ability to sense when a person in the same room as them is lying, though it's nebulous whether this is due to their heightened sense of smell, their sensitive ability to detect vibrations and heartbeats, or a supernatural instinct gifted them by their patron god Narthax, the scion of justice and truth. It's not a fool-proof gift by any means, and has been wrong before—but in this instance, you have no reason to doubt its authority. <<if $heritage is "Hunter">> (It also has disconcerting implications about whether your parents actually knew if you'd been sneaking out late at night for misadventures with Zori, and the truth about other childhood fibs you inevitably told, but that's neither here nor there at the moment.) <</if>> <</if>><</nobr>> You turn back to Andrius Kerne. <i>Interesting.</i> <<include "kerneinterrogate1">>

Kerne arches a brow, a rare motion in his otherwise carven face. "With what?" "With the really big fucking tree in the middle of the Elven Quarter," Halek interjects idly. "Oh." The officer's brow wrinkles, but he seems truthful as he says, "Never paid much attention, but no, never saw anything to do with that." <<include "kerneinterrogate1">>

"A <i>hole</i>?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"That's what I said."</div>' 'kerne_hole_response'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You really need to clean out your ears, Kerne."</div>' 'kerne_hole_response'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Stop making me say things twice and just answer the question."</div>' 'kerne_hole_response'>><<setcompassionate -1>><<setcharisma -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Yup, a hole."</div>' 'kerne_hole_response'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

He stares at you for a long, hard moment before he says sardonically, "Saw a couple of kids trying to make their own tunnel in the mud last week. That the kind of hole you're talking about?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Smile back, perfectly pleasant. "No, but thanks, anyway."</div>' 'autogenerated_686387'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> <<if ($rank is "Captain") or ($rank is "Commander")>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Clench your fist menacingly. "I'd put some respect back in your voice before you really piss me off, soldier."</div>' 'autogenerated_686388'>><<setcompassionate -1>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($rank is not "Captain") and ($rank is not "Commander")>><div class="inactive-item">Clench your fist menacingly. "I'd put some respect back in your voice before you really piss me off, soldier."</div><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Glare at him. "You know it isn't."</div>' 'autogenerated_686389'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

He shrugs sullenly in response. <<include 'kerneinterrogate1'>>

<<nobr>><<if $compassionate <= 40>> <<set $kernebreak += 1>> A muscle in his cheek flinches. He says nothing for a moment, then continues steadily, "No, I never saw no other holes. …<<c rank>>." <<else>> He tilts his head with just a trace of challenge. "I never saw no holes." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'kerneinterrogate1'>>

He tilts his head with just a trace of challenge. "Then no." <<include 'kerneinterrogate1'>>

"No. If there were, I would have put it in my paperwork." Halek waves a lazy hand towards the paper. "You don't really seem like the paperwork kind of guy, Kerne. Not a lot of detail in these reports." Kerne's eyes stare straight ahead. "No one's had a problem with them before. Sir." <<include "kerneinterrogate1">>

Kerne shrugs his big shoulders. "Haven't been counting. Half a year, maybe." "And before that?" "I had a beat in Ashtown. Between Salduf Walk and Midanora Street." "How long have you been in the Vice Guard?" Halek asks then, glancing at his plain officer's stripes. Kerne's face hardens, ever so slightly. "Fifteen years." He looks to be nearing forty, if he's not already there. <<include "kerne_question_patrol_followup">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"That's a long time to still be doing crappy patrols, Kerne. Not much of a ladder-climber, I take it?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686390'>><<setcompassionate -3>><<setcharisma -1>><<set $kernebreak += 1>><<set $kernereason to true>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Have you and Valri Riegar been partners all that time?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686391'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"How'd you end up patrolling the Elven Quarter?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686392'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

It is an unusually long time to remain a simple officer: at his level of experience, most people would have at least shifted to more leisurely desk jobs or earned more scenic, reputable patrols. The Elven Quarter job is ploddingly simple and menial, something you'd hand to green recruits fresh out of the academy, and only then for a few months before rotating them out for a new batch of youngbloods. "Didn't have ambitions to make captain like Alec Cross?" Halek adds idly. Kerne's face is as stiff and featureless as carven oak. "Never wanted any more than that," he answers woodenly. "It's good pay and it's easy. No one makes you do anything extra. You don't break your back fighting off roughnecks and you don't go scrambling all over the city on wild goosechases like the investigators. You walk around, flash your medallion, and go home at the end of the day. Nothing wrong with that." Is he simply lazy and unambitious, or is there something more to it? <<include 'kerneinterrogate1'>>

He shakes his head. "No. We only became partners when we were both assigned the Elftown beat." "What are your thoughts on her? What's your working relationship like?" Kerne pauses, surveying you through narrowed eyes. "It's fine. Nothing untoward, if that's what you're implying. I got a lady, and Riegar's all business. We both show up on time, get the job done, and go home to our separate lives. Nothing more to it than that." <<include 'kerneinterrogate1'>>

Kerne shrugs again. "Commissioner decided a new patrol route had to be added because of all the trouble with the gangs," he said. "Someone needed to do it, so they picked me and Riegar." "Yes, but why you specifically?" Halek asks with interest. Kerne snorts. "You'd have to ask the higher-ups, not me." However, he says it with no particular sense of ire or even interest. <<include 'kerneinterrogate1'>>

In the next room over, you walk in to find Tallys and Lavinet gaining as equally little traction with Valri Riegar as you did with Andrius Kerne—perhaps even less so, judging by Riegar's mutinous expression and the stiff expressions on Tallys and Lavinet's faces. <<nobr>><<if $tallys > $lavinet>> You send an inquisitive look at Tallys, who tilts her head at you <<if $heritage is "Elf">> and murmurs in Elvish: "We've covered the basics, but she's not very cooperative. I get the sense that she harbors a lot of anger, though towards who or what, I couldn't say. She treats both Lavinet and I with equal ire, so I don't believe it's a grudge against Diminished specifically." She pauses, then adds, "She strikes me as an <i>aldorimil</i>." It's an Elvish term that loosely translates to someone who has a chip on their shoulder or a high sense of pride. <<else>> and murmurs, "We've covered the basics." Although she seems perfectly composed, something about the tightness of her shoulders tells you that even those basics were hard-won. <</if>> <<else>> You send an inquisitive glance at Lavinet, who forces a smile and says, her eyes hard, "We've covered the basics. Officer Riegar here was just reemphasizing that she has nothing of import to note, or else it would have been in her diligent paperwork." Even her prim tone can't hide that obvious sarcasm, which shows how irked she is. <</if>><</nobr>> You nod, folding your arms and surveying Andrius Kerne's partner. She tilts her chin up and stares defiantly back at you, not backing down. Her hostility is an interesting contrast to Kerne's more unassuming indifference—or incompetence. <<include "riegarinterrogate3">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("riegar_question_standout")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Have you discussed whether there was anyone who stood out to you during your patrols? Anyone who acted strange or was a particular troublemaker?"</div>' 'riegar_question_standout'>><<set $suspiciousmage to true>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("riegar_question_blacksun") and ($suspiciousmage is true)>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Ever run into Black Sun during your patrols?"</div>' 'riegar_question_blacksun'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited ("riegar_question_tampering")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Did you ever see anyone tampering with Qael-Qanaeon?"</div>' 'riegar_question_tampering'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited ("riegar_question_hole")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Did you ever see anyone burying or digging anything up?"</div>' 'riegar_question_hole'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited ("riegar_question_service")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"What did you do before you were assigned the patrol in the Elven Quarter?"</div>' 'riegar_question_service'>><<set $riegarreason to true>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Someone knocks on the door, bringing an end to the conversation.</div>' 'autogenerated_686393'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

You turn just as someone opens the door, revealing the flat, displeased stare of Alec Cross as he leans into the tiny interrogation room. "<<c surname>>," he says gruffly, as if your very surname burns his tongue. "I need to speak with you." <<include 'cross_interrupts'>>

Riegar's mouth twists, her slate-blue eyes loud in her face, but she answers reluctantly, "Yeah, one or two come to mind." You gesture for her to continue, so she says, "I already said this, but there was a man hanging around, few months back—Mage, judging by his eyes, a real scruffy sort. Looked like a beggar, and more than a little addled. Talkin' to himself and whatnot. I thought it strange, that a Mage would be hanging around Elftown and not with his own kind, but maybe they gave him more coin in that part of town, I dunno. Sometimes he'd rave and clutch his head and go into fits, and they'd call us over to deal with him. After the fourth or fifth time of telling him to move along, he packed up for good. But one of the times I was picking him up from the pavement… I looked into his eyes, and…" She trails off, for a moment looking uncertain, before she shakes her head. "I don't know. He just seemed… empty. Like his body was moving, but there was nothing inside." Lavinet straightens. "Do you think he could have been possessed?" Riegar jerks her head in assent. "It didn't occur to me at the time. But now that you're asking… could have been. I couldn't say for sure, and he's long gone by now." <<include "riegar_question_standout_followup">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $discrepancydemon is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Kerne didn't mention this Mage at all."</div>' 'autogenerated_686394'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Why didn't you put any of that into your reports?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686395'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Where do you think he went? Could he still be in the area?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686396'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Why didn't the Elves of the Elven Quarter bring him up?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686397'>><<set $riegarbreak += 1>><<settallys +1>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<set $riegarbreak += 2>> Valri's jaw tightens. "Kerne's a lazy bastard. He wouldn't notice someone with a demon in their head if they stuck their thumb up his asshole." "But you did," Tallys murmurs. "And you didn't do anything about it?" "Like I <i>said</i>," Riegar drawls, "I thought something wasn't right with him, but I didn't think it was <i>that</i>. We're not all like you Shepherds, dealing with demons and black magic every day. It didn't occur to me until just now." <<include 'riegarinterrogate3'>>

Valri's jaw tightens. "What was there to say? He was a lousy beggar. I didn't think it was worth noting until now. Hindsight is everything, right?" <<include 'riegarinterrogate3'>>

Riegar shrugs her broad shoulders. "Dunno. Wasn't my problem. But I guess he could still be lurking around. We can't patrol every hour of every day." "What did he look like?" Lavinet asks her then. Riegar scowls up at the ceiling, thinking on it. "Tall. Long brown hair, beard, blue eyes, maybe in his forties or fifties. Always wore a purple cloak that reeked of herbs." You glance over to see Tallys taking careful notes. <<nobr>><<if $qqinvestigate is "divine">> You try and think back on the vision you saw when you were divining Qael-Qanaeon: could one of the figures have been this Mage? One was tall, but their features were obscured by their hood… and it was too dark to see if the cloak was purple. Still, it could technically fit. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'riegarinterrogate3'>>

Such a notable and suspicious character must surely have caught the attention of proper, upstanding folk like Danan and his father, especially if they were keen to find any cause for Qael-Qanaeon's ill condition. And with how much Elves tend to gossip, surely the so-called beggar Mage would have been put forward as a possible suspect by now. Riegar's jaw tightens. "You'd have to ask them." <<include 'riegarinterrogate3'>>

Riegar frowns to herself. "Only just the once," she says slowly. "That same time when I was hauling that Mage up—a little tin fell out of his pocket. I never saw what was in it, but I'd arrested enough addicts to guess." "So you think he was an addict?" Lavinet asks intently, sitting forward and lacing her gloved hands together. "Who still had access to Black Sun?" Riegar scoffs. "Lots of people still had access to Black Sun, even after the Autarch banned it and you Shepherds rounded up what was at the factory and the Minister's mansion. They would have had their own supplies, caches of what they bought before the ban, right? And not everyone went to the clinics to get cured. So yeah, he was an addict." <<include "riegar_question_blacksun_followup">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $intelligence >= 60>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"So which is it: was he possessed or was he an addict?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686398'>><<setintelligence +1>><<set $riegarbreak += 1>><</link>><</if>> <<if $intelligence < 60>><div class="inactive-item">"So which is it: was he possessed or was he an addict?"</div><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"If you knew it was Black Sun, why didn't you confiscate it? It's contraband in the city: you should have seized it."</div>' 'autogenerated_686399'>><<setloyal +1>><</link>> <<if $blacksundiscrepancy is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Your partner didn't mention this when I asked him about Black Sun."</div>' 'autogenerated_686400'>><</link>><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

Riegar gifts you a look of supreme sardonicism. "Why can't it be both?" <<include 'riegarinterrogate3'>>

She shrugs her shoulders, sullen. "Black Sun addicts go wild when you try to take away their precious snuff," she grouses. "I just wanted him out of our turf." "In other words, you didn't give a damn about what he did so long as he did it out of your eyesight," Tallys says, her tone extremely dry. "Does that about sum it up?" "A lot of officers do a lot worse," Riegar answers, rolling her eyes. "If you want to write me up for that, do as you like." <<include 'riegarinterrogate3'>>

<<set $riegarbreak += 2>> Riegar grits her teeth. "Because he didn't see it—only I did. And we're not prone to talking about details unless it's strictly necessary. He's an idiot." <<include 'riegarinterrogate3'>>

One of the officer's thin, pale brows arches. "With what?" "With the holy tree in the middle of the quarter," Tallys says, her voice a bit sharp. "You really never deigned to learn what it was or what people call it? It's the biggest tree in the city." "Oh, that." Riegar's disdain is clear, even if she doesn't outright say it. "What do you count as <i>tampering</i>? A bunch of Elves hang around it every day, touching it, praying to it or what have you. But I figure that isn't what you're talking about. And then there were the other Shepherd teams who poked around it, too. But you would know all about that, wouldn't you?" <<include "riegarinterrogate3">>

Riegar's face seems frozen for a moment. Then she says casually, "Now why would you go and ask a thing like that? Someone digging tunnels under Elftown?" <<include "riegar_question_hole_followup">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"It's the Elven Quarter, <i>muti</i>. Now answer the question."</div>' 'autogenerated_686401'>><<settallys +3>><<set $tallysromanceflag +=1>><<setcompassionate -1>><<set $riegarbreak -= 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"That's my concern, not yours. Did you see anything?"</div>' 'riegarshrugs'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Yeah, something like that."</div>' 'riegarshrugs'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Instantly, Riegar's eyes go half-lidded; suddenly the air feels tense and electrified, like the prelude to a fight. "I think you're forgetting I'm not one of your own, <<c rank>>," she spits. "And I ain't a suspect, so you don't get to talk to me like that. You're not in our chain of command, so I can walk right out of here if I want to." You grit your teeth—she's technically right—and decide to move on. <<include 'riegarinterrogate3'>>

Riegar shrugs. "People break ground on things all the time. Lot of empty plots around Elftown. They clear it for gardens or as the sites for buildings and shops, but they take so damn long to start projects that the lots usually just sit there. Three months is only a few days to their kind, I guess." Tallys makes a faint sound at the disparaging talk of her people, and Lavinet interjects crisply, "You'd do well to remember who you're talking to, Officer Riegar." Riegar salutes, though not without a hint of sarcasm. "Yes, ma'am. Sorry, ma'am." <<include "riegarinterrogate3">>

Riegar's eyes narrow, and she tilts her head. "You asking about my service record? Can't you just look that up yourself?" "As a matter of fact, I have it right here," Lavinet says then, her voice all velvet and honey as she extracts one of the papers in her sheaf. Her wine-dark eyes flick over the paper—a bit of theater, you would guess, since she probably already knows what it contains—and practically purrs, "Ah, yes, you were part of a promising squad up in the Sun Court, weren't you? The Special Enforcement Squad… that's a well-connected, ambitious position. But then you were rather abruptly transferred to this garrison half a year ago and given the patrol in the Elven Quarter with Andrius Kerne… Would you like to tell us in your own words why that happened?" Valri Riegar's face has flushed to an ugly pink, and her eyes snap blue fire at Lavinet. "It says it all right there," she growls. The aristocrat makes a small humming sound. "Oh, yes, here it is. It seems you had a history of selfish, aggressive behavior, to the point where you would brawl with members of your own squad… and you were openly insubordinate with one of your own superior officers. So you were demoted and sent here when your actions became intolerable." She tsks lightly. "It seems you have a bit of a temper, Officer Riegar." "I don't see how any of that is relevant," Riegar says, her voice tightly calm but her knuckles white and bloodless as she clenches her fists at her sides. <<include "riegar_question_service_followup">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"So your duties in the Elven Quarter are punitive? Do you hold a grudge because of that?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686402'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Sounds like you had high ambitions. Do you have any chance of redeeming yourself in the eyes of the Vice Guard and regaining some of your old status?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686403'>><<set $riegarbreak += 1>><</link>> <<if $cunning >= 60>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"That explains why you're saddled with a deadbeat like Kerne. I wondered why you seemed so mismatched. He's going nowhere in life, but you have potential."</div>' 'autogenerated_686404'>><<set $riegarbreak += 3>><<setcunning +3>><</link>><</if>> <<if $cunning < 60>><div class="inactive-item">"That explains why you're saddled with a deadbeat like Kerne. I wondered why you seemed so mismatched. He's going nowhere in life, but you have potential."</div><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

Riegar is dead silent for a moment. Then she gives a short bark of a laugh, a flat, harsh sound. "What, against the Elves? No, they haven't done anything to me. I might be apathetic about having to patrol there, but I'd feel that way about any part of town. I'm not some swabbie with fresh stripes. I used to do sweeps and seizures—<i>important</i> kak. But that's not the fault of anyone except the fucking <i>sharmootis</i> who put me here." Then, warily, she falls abruptly silent, as if aware that she's said too much. <<nobr>><<if ($tallys >= 60) or ($lavinet >= 60)>> <br><br> You glance at the others for their reactions. <</if>> <<if $lavinet >= 60>> Lavinet tilts her head slightly, as if to say, <i>I'm inclined to think she's telling the truth. In this instance.</i> <</if>> <<if $tallys >= 60>> Tallys's face is utterly composed, but when her eyes flick at you, they dance with some hidden meaning. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'riegarinterrogate3'>>

Riegar is dead silent for a moment. Finally she says quietly: "If I didn't think I did, I would have quit by now." That's all she seems to have to say on the matter. <<include 'riegarinterrogate3'>>

Riegar snorts. "You don't know the half of it. It's pretty depressing, seeing how all the life has gone out of that old imbecile—if there was any there to begin with. But at least he doesn't get on my nerves." Her lip curls. "He's a lazy piece of shit, but promise him a glass of ale and a whore at the end of the day and he'll do what he has to." <<include 'riegarinterrogate3'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Of course." Follow him cooperatively.</div>' 'cross_revelation'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Look at him impatiently. "I'm in the middle of something."</div>' 'autogenerated_686405'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Glare at him. "Right now?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686406'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

His stare hardens. "This is more important." <<include 'cross_revelation'>>

His stare hardens. "Yes." <<include 'cross_revelation'>>

You step into the dingy corridor with him and shut the door behind you, leaving Tallys and Lavinet with the surly Valri Riegar. Following Alec back into the privacy of his office, you begin, "What couldn't wait until I was done talking to your officers?" With his large, overflowing desk positioned safely between the two of you—why is he regarding you so warily, as if you might leap across the room and attack him?—Cross flings a packet of papers down onto the desk's surface. As you lean over to glance through them, he says shortly, "You asked me to find verification that it was the Inquisition who handled the seizure and destruction of the Black Sun recovered from the factory in Smoketown as well as the Trade Minister's mansion. That's all there. But there's something else. And you should know, <<c surname>>, that I didn't know a thing about it. It was before I was promoted." You glance at him. "All right…" Alec is absently running his fingers along his mustache, as if making sure that it hasn't fallen off. He seems antsy, unhappy about something—downright <i>worried</i>, if you're looking hard enough. "But," he continues, extremely reluctantly, "I just discovered that it was the Vice Guard who was tasked with hunting down the <i>rest</i> of it: the supply that had made its way into the pockets and storehouses of the regular dealers, smugglers, and civilians outside of those two main production sites. The stuff that was hidden in caches all throughout the city." He shakes his head. "It was the Special Enforcement Squad who was in charge of the search and seizure of the rest of the drug. But then, when they thought they'd done a good enough job of rounding up the dregs…" He trails off, and you have to suppress a flare of impatience as you press, "Yes?" "…They turned what they'd gathered over to some low-level officers to be transported and destroyed at the same site that the Inquisitors used: some sort of processing site out in the Sun's Embrace where they could safely incinerate the drug without anyone around to inhale the smoke. It's a shit errand that no one wants to do, considering it would have taken a full day to carry out, so it was given to the first officers on-hand who didn't have anything more important on their schedule." AKA, such a mindless, menial errand was foisted on the least-respected, lowest-ranked, or most-disliked swabbies available, you think. As Trouble sometimes says, <i>Shit always runs downhill</i>. Alec continues, "And those officers happened to be stationed here. At this garrison." You already think you know what he's getting at; you feel the hard pit of the foreknowledge forming in your gut. "And those officers' names?" Cross's voice is heavy and defeated as he says them, like a priest making a confession or supplication for mercy before his god. "Valri Riegar and Andrius Kerne." <<page_break "Next" "cross_revelation_continued">>

You blow out a breath. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Ah, shit."</div>' 'coss'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You're <i>fucked</i>, Cross."</div>' 'autogenerated_686407'>><<setcompassionate -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"That's... that's not good."</div>' 'coss'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Cross's eyes sharpen. "<i>Me</i>?" He scowls at you. "What do I have to do with it? I wasn't in command when they were handed the drug—and I certainly wasn't the one who ordered them to bury it! I didn't even know about this whole sorry ordeal at the time." "You think that matters?" you snap back. "Heads are going to roll for this, Cross. The Elves are going to riot, and our new Autarch is going to be looking for who to blame for the unrest kicking off his reign. He isn't exactly choosy about whose neck is in the guillotine: just that there <i>is</i> one. And you're their commanding officer. What happened to the previous one?" Two red spots have appeared high on Alec's cheeks. "Dead," he says through his teeth. "Dropped dead of a heart attack last year." "Lucky him," you reply sarcastically. <<include 'cross_reaction_continued'>>

Cross doesn't reply, but the tightening of his lips signals his agreement. <<include "cross_reaction_continued">>

He watches as you run your hands through your hair, thoughts racing. This is not good. Things were looking bad enough when you thought a random suspect—or an Endarkened, everyone's common enemy—poisoned the Elves' heartwood tree with the essence of a Faceless Lord. There would have been turmoil, certainly, but you'd thought that successfully apprehending the suspect (and punishing them) would have dampened the flames of conflict and outrage, at least a little. Hael, a demon would have been <i>convenient</i> in comparison to this: people can resign themselves to demon-mischief in the same way they can to the damage wreaked by a tornado or some other force of nature. <i>It's tragic, but what can you do?</i> They'd mourn for a while, but ultimately be forced to move on. But this… this is another beast entirely. <i>The Vice Guard themselves.</i> <<nobr>><<if $faith is "one-god">> God damn it. <<else>> Gods damn it. <</if>><</nobr>> That's like tossing a lit match into a basement full of dry kindling. There's <i>already</i> tension between the Diminished in this city and the all-Norm Vice Guard, whom they feel is unfeeling and negligent towards their troubles at best, and downright corrupt and abusive at worst. Combine that with the pointed segregation of the Elven Quarter and all the resentments brewing around that… You're going to have to move very carefully if you don't want the friction in this city to explode into the flames of violence. "We need to find out <i>why</i> they did it," you say, thinking out loud. "And gather more proof against them. Just because their names are on the docket… they could still claim that they dropped their payload off at the processing site, and I doubt there's anyone who can countermand that. Were there people stationed at the dumping ground?" Cross frowns, shaking his head slowly. "From what I'm seeing of the paperwork, no. It would have been Riegar and Kerne's duty to destroy the contraband once they arrived there: there was no one waiting there to do that for them." "So they're the only witnesses," you say grimly. "Which means we don't have any true evidence—only circumstantial inferences—if they decide to deny it and back each other up. They could easily claim that they <i>did</i> process the Black Sun, as instructed, and this matter with Quel-Qanaeon was the doing of someone else entirely." Cross nods slowly, tracing his mustache in thought. A gleam of something has entered his eye. "Are you sure that <i>isn't</i> what happened?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Level him with a flat look. "I think if you really believed that, you wouldn't have called me in here to tell me this information."</div>' 'cossshrug'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Narrow your eyes at him. "Don't try to save your own skin, Cross, or your organization's. We both know they did it."</div>' 'cossshrug'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Consider it. "Who else in the city would have had access to that amount of Black Sun? And if they did, why bury it?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686408'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

He rubs his chin. "Why would Riegar and Kerne bury it, to that point?" he asks softly. "What was the motivation there?" There's a pause as you both brood on it; then he shakes his head. <<include 'cross_counter_plan'>>

He shrugs, as if to say, <i>It was worth a try.</i> <<include "cross_counter_plan">>

"It seems you need their confession to prosecute them," he says, the wheels in his head clearly turning. You're not sure you like the look on his face. If Cross decides to order his goons to stick to their story to save their order's reputation, your investigation might grind to a halt here. You need to get him on your side, or, barring that, convince him that he at least shouldn't interfere… "I would think <i>we</i> would want them to confess, not just me," you point out, keeping your tone light and conversational. "If they don't, we're just going to have to keep digging and digging to look at other lines of inquiry; and who knows what else we might uncover? Maybe next time it will be someone you were directly responsible for. I saw the officers out there in the yard. Do you think they're really all that different from Riegar and Kerne? That none of them have ever slipped up while under your command?" Cross regards you appraisingly, his face shuttered. "But if Riegar and Kerne confess, and it becomes clear they were acting alone, you can throw them to the wolves and protect the rest of your people," you state. "<i>And</i> yourself. You <i>want</i> them to admit to doing it, taking responsibility. Then all the haelfire falls on their shoulders alone. If they stay silent, they'll end up dragging the rest of you through the mud, I can promise you that." Cross grunts, tugging on the end of his mustache—it's going to fray like an old broomstick if he keeps that up—before he finally says, "Fine, <<c surname>>, I take your point. But it will be up to <i>you</i> to make them confess. I'll accept your findings if you do, but I won't be seen aiding you in bringing about their demise. The Guard doesn't take kindly to betraying its own kind." He pauses, then adds, "And if you <i>don't</i> get their confession, don't count on me to back you up, either." You incline your head, trying not to show your relief. Not an ally, then, but not a hindrance, either. "Fair enough." You turn back to the door, feeling the weight of your task pressing down on your shoulders like the hand of an executioner marching a blindfolded $woman to the gallows. <<page_break "Next" "interrogation_choice">>

In the hallway outside, you pause in front of the doors: Kerne and Halek on the left, Riegar and Tallys and Lavinet on the right. It's a good thing you've kept the two Vice Guards separated so they can't collude and get their stories straight. And you only need to get one of them break. Clearly their entire story is a load of kak… but which of them do you think you have a better chance of getting to confess to that? <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Andrius Kerne.</div>' 'andriusinterrogate2'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Valri Riegar.</div>' 'valriinterrogate2'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Halek and Andrius both look up when you reenter the room, Halek's expression mild and languid, Kerne's face weary and guarded. A glance at Halek's small head shake tells you that he hasn't succeeded in uncovering much more from the taciturn Vice Guard. You can only hope you'll fare better. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $suspiciousmage is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Try to catch him in a lie. "So I just had a talk with your partner. She talked about a suspicious Mage character that you conveniently never mentioned."</div>' 'autogenerated_686409'>><<set $kernebreak += 3>><<setcunning +1>><</link>><</if>> <<if $suspiciousmage is false>><div class="inactive-item">Try to catch him in a lie. "So I just had a talk with your partner. She talked about a suspicious Mage character that you conveniently never mentioned."</div><</if>> <<if (($charch is true) and ($cigarette is true)) or (($charch is true) and ($pipe is true))>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Lower his guard. "You want a smoke?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686410'>><<set $kernebreak += 1>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($charch is false) or ($cigarette is false) or ($pipe is false)>><div class="inactive-item">Lower his guard. "You want a smoke?"</div><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Press him by making him go over the details again. "So you never saw anything suspicious, never saw a hole of any kind or anything to do with Black Sun?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686411'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

You don't miss how Kerne tenses at that, though his expression remains wooden. "Huh," he says slowly. You arch a brow at him as Halek sits forward, his eyes half-lidded like a panther's. "That's all you have to say? 'Huh?'" "What else you want me to say?" Kerne asks. His fingers twitch once on the tabletop before he puts his hand in his lap. "I don't remember a Mage, but that's not to say we never met one." "Really think," you press him. "You told us that you never saw anything suspicious. None of your reports talk about anything suspicious. And yet your partner insists that you had <i>multiple</i> encounters with this person. I find it hard to believe that you would forget about such a thing, with how straightforward and doldrum you make your patrols out to be. So either you need to get your head checked, and maybe reexamined to see if you're still fit for duty… or one of you is lying." A muscle in Kerne's cheek twitches. "I might remember something like that, now that I think about it," he allows. "But the details are foggy. Riegar's ten years younger than me. Has a better memory." "So you <i>do</i> remember a Mage? One that was addicted to Black Sun?" "Pretty sure I do. It's coming back to me more now that you talk about it." Halek snorts disbelievingly. Your expression doesn't change. "What color was her hair, then? Her cloak?" The color drains from Kerne's tanned face, turning it gray. "Don't know her hair color," he manages finally. "Her hood was up the whole time. As for the cloak… I think it was purple." You exchange glances with Halek, who raises his brow to signal a spike in Kerne's heartrate. "That's interesting," you say, "considering the Mage Riegar talked about was a male." Kerne stares at you in dumbfounded silence for a moment. Then he lowers his eyes and says, "Well. Like I said, my memory isn't that great." But you can tell you've made him deeply nervous. <<include 'kerne_press_further'>>

Andrius regards you suspiciously, as if waiting to see whether this is a trap, but when you take out some charch and pass it to Halek, he shrugs and says, "Sure." All three of you light up, sitting in silence for a moment as you blow out wisps of smoke like dragon's breath. The room becomes permeated with the friendly scents of vanilla and almond. <<include 'kerne_press_further'>>

Andrius levels sullen, dish-water gray eyes at you. "That's what I said," he grumbles. But resentfully, he repeats every answer he gave to your previous questions. Every recitation is dutifully clear, if bored. <<include 'kerne_press_further'>>

<<set $turnriegar to false>>You regard him for a long moment. "I know you and Riegar were assigned to dispose of the Black Sun, Kerne. Your own captain just showed me the paperwork. The only question is: why did you bury it in the Elven Quarter?" Halek's eyes snap to yours. There's a loud, thundering silence for a moment as you all stare at each other; it feels as if the moment is trapped in amber. Finally Kerne shifts, his lips twitching, before he says, "Don't know why you're acting like you've caught me out on something. It's no secret that we were called to get rid of the Black Sun: like you said, it's right there in the paperwork. But that doesn't mean we buried it in the Elven Quarter." "Why didn't you bring it up when we were talking earlier?" "You never asked. You asked if I'd seen Black Sun on my patrols, if I ever saw anyone suspicious, if I saw anyone digging holes: not if I'd ever handled Black Sun myself. So I didn't know there was anything I was supposed to admit to. I can't read your mind." You try not to scowl. The bastard's tougher than you thought he would be. <<nobr>><<include "breakkerne">><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $kernebreak >= 12>> <br><br> <<include "kerneconfession">> <<else>> <<include "breakkerne2">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited ("kerne_press_evidence")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"It doesn't take a genius to put two and two together. You and Riegar were assigned to get rid of Black Sun. You patrol in the Elven Quarter every day. A large cache of Black Sun was discovered <i>in the Elven Quarter</i>, your one and only beat. What other explanation is there?"</div>' 'kerne_press_evidence'>><<set $kernebreak -= 1>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($turnriegar is false) and ($riegarreason is true) and not (hasVisited ("kerne_partner_betrayal"))>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"The more you deny it, the worse it gets for you. Your partner already threw you under the horsecart. She said <i>you</i> buried the Black Sun, and that she had nothing to do with it."</div>' 'kerne_partner_betrayal'>><<set $turnriegar to true>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($turnriegar is false) and not (hasVisited ("kerne_save_yourself"))>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"You can still save yourself, you know. If you told me that it was all Riegar's idea and she was the one who buried the Black Sun, that would make sense to me. She could take the fall while you get off with a slap on the wrist. You just have to tell me whose idea it was."</div>' 'kerne_save_yourself'>><<set $turnriegar to true>><<set $kernebreak -= 1>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited ("kerne_consequences")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"You know that whoever takes the fall for this is going to catch haelfire, right? This isn't just about a demotion or a fine, Kerne. They're going to want blood. Your bosses, the Elves, the Autarch."</div>' 'kerne_consequences'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You press, and press, and press, attacking him from all sides...</div>' 'kernefailure'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

He stares at you challengingly. "That's your job, not mine," he answers steadily. "You got any eyewitnesses? Forensic evidence? I know how this goes. You can't go up in front of a tribunal or the high court with the 'if it talks like a duck' pitch as your proof." <<include "breakkerne2">>

<<nobr>><<if $cunning >= 60>> <<set $kernebreak += 3>> <<setcunning +1>> His eyes widen. "She… she wouldn't do that," he says. Then, hastily: "Because it's not true." <br><br> "Oh, come on, Kerne, open your eyes," you say pityingly. "She's not exactly the most loyal team player. She was kicked off of Special Enforcement because she couldn't play nice with others; and that was at a position she <i>liked</i>. Do you really think she's going to stick her neck out for an old bottom-runger like you? Especially when she has ambitions to climb the ladder again? She was all too happy to pin the blame on you." <br><br> He stares at you for a long moment, his look totally blank. He genuinely seems to be at a loss for words. <<include "breakkerne">> <<else>> <<set $kernebreak -= 3>> He watches you for a moment; then his lips twitch into a smile. It's not a kind look. "No," he says slowly. "She didn't say any of that. She wouldn't." <<include "breakkerne2">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Kerne watches you for a moment, deep-set gray eyes glinting. FInally he says heavily, "I don't know what you're talking about." <<include "breakkerne">>

<<nobr>><<if $compassionate < 45>> <<set $kernebreak += 5>> <<else>> <<set $kernebreak += 2>> <</if>><</nobr>> "You think the Autarch will be happy if a riot or an Uprising breaks out in his capital before the end of his first year?" you ask softly, menacingly. "No, he's going to want a neck for the hangman's noose; a lamb to feed to the wolves. Do you really want to be that lamb? Your district chief's not going to protect you; neither is Alec Cross. You've got to look out for yourself, or else…" You trail off meaningfully. But you know he knows exactly what they do to criminals up in the Sun Court. Hael, they stage the hangings right in front of the Vice Guard garrison up there. Kerne sucks in a breath, his knuckles white as he grips them hard in his lap. But he doesn't say a word. <<include "breakkerne">>

<<nobr>><<set $reputation += 2>> <<set $confession to true>> <<settallys +3>> <<sethalek +2>> <<setlavinet +2>> <</nobr>>You open your mouth to say more when the man says abruptly, the word punching out of him as if you've dealt him a physical blow: "Fine." You and Halek turn to look at him. "Fine?" "<i>Fine</i>," Andrius Kerne grits out, baring his teeth. "Yes, we buried the Black Sun in Elftown. In an empty lot that no one was using. There's no law against that. It wasn't a crime. But sure, we did it. It was Riegar's idea. If she hadn't been bitching and moaning about going all the way out to the valley so much, I would have just kept my head down and done what I was told. That's what I've been doing my whole career. I'm a drudge, sure, but at least I'm not in the line of fire: I'm <i>used</i> to doing the dirty work. But not Valri Riegar, oh no. She's too good for kak like that, too high and mighty. She should be doing Special Enforcement work, not swabbie errands with a grunt like me. But tell me why <i>I</i> never got any marks on my service record, not like she has?" He shakes his head. "If there's anyone who should be punished, it's her, not me." Then he looks away and adds, "But I don't see what needs punishing at all. We buried some shit in a hole in the ground. No harm in that." "No harm?" Halek snaps, his voice brittle and his gray eyes hard and flinty. "You knew damn well that that 'shit' was a dangerous narcotic drug <i>created by one of the powerful demons we know of</i>. What if someone had found it? Kids play in that square. What if they'd gone digging and gotten into it?" Kerne looks uneasy, as if he had never considered this. "We buried it ten feet deep," he argues nonetheless. "What are the chances that kids are going to dig a hole that deep in that exact spot?" "What if someone had built their home on top of that lot? What if the Black Sun had poisoned the earth, leached into their groundwater, wilted their gardens, made them sick while they slept?" "That lot's been empty for years; no one's building on it! And we thought we were burying refuse, the way you bury ashes or a dung heap, or—or—whatever! We didn't think it could <i>poison the earth</i>, no one told us that!" "Well, guess what, Kerne?" you ask, leaning forward and speaking in soft, deadly tones. "It already did. The Elves' holy tree had roots in that hole, and now the Black Sun has infected it and poisoned it with demonic Rot. It's <i>dying</i>. And you're the one who killed it." The Vice Guard gapes at you, his weathered face slack for once. After a moment of stunned silence, he demands, "How was I supposed to know that? That damn tree's a mile away from where we buried that kak! We—" He looks around at the two of you, his expression growing more frantic at the lack of sympathy on your faces. "We didn't <i>mean</i> to, honest. We didn't intend harm—it was an accident, a mistake!" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Despite yourself, you feel a flicker of sympathy. "I'll make it clear that you didn't have malice in your hearts. But I can't promise it will matter."</div>' 'kerne_confession_end'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Shake your head. "That's not a good defense, Kerne. A lot of harm has been done by mistake. Doesn't mean the people who caused it didn't deserve the consequences of their actions."</div>' 'kerne_confession_end'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Glare at him. "I don't give a shit if you didn't <i>mean</i> to. You chose to cut corners and do something you knew was wrong: otherwise you wouldn't try to cover it up. Now you'll pay for that."</div>' 'kerne_confession_end'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

You talk to Kerne for a few more minutes, but the gravity of what's going on seems to finally be sinking in, and he falls deathly quiet soon after. When you and Halek exit the room, the white-haired Hunter shakes his head. "How long does it take to dig a pit that size?" he mutters. "A few hours? And how long would it have taken them to just haul the shit out of the city and out to the Sun's Embrace to burn it?" You shrug. "A little more than a day?" Halek sucks the air in through his teeth. "So Quel-Qanaeon's dying because they wanted to save, what, twelve, fifteen hours?" You nod slowly. "It's dying because of their sheer laziness and incompetence. It was sloppy, bone-headed shirking of work, nothing more. Nothing nefarious or conspiratorial or even really targeted about it. They weren't criminal masterminds or servants of the Endarkened or members of a gang wanting to drive the Elves out. They were just… <i>stupid</i>." Halek is watching you sidelong. "Is that worse? I feel like that's worse." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Yeah, that's worse."</div>' 'halek_tallys_reaction'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I don't know."</div>' 'halek_tallys_reaction'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I mean, I'll <i>sleep</i> a little better knowing there aren't terrorists out there poisoning sacred icons on purpose... but not by much."</div>' 'halek_tallys_reaction'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

The Hunter shakes his head slowly. "Tallys is not going to like this." <<page_break "Next" "tallysconfrontation5">>

He's right. Tallys does not like it. <<include "tallysconfrontation">>

<<set $followtallys to "">> "The Elves will march," she says, her voice dead, flat, and matter-of-fact as you stand together in the hallway outside. "When they learn of this—this travesty, this outrage—they <i>will</i> march on Haven. Quel-Qanaeon is their heritage, and to see it destroyed for such an inane reason…" She shakes her head stiffly. "It's intolerable. It may take some time, but the anger will simmer and grow until it boils over. And then the Vice Guard and the Army will respond, and—much blood will be shed." She looks like she wants to spit. "Those two <i>hresta</i> have single-handedly caused the deaths of hundreds of people." Lavinet's wine-dark eyes travel anxiously from face to face. "Isn't there anything we can do to cool the flames of their ire? Perhaps the tree can still be healed, or a part of it saved—" Tallys doesn't look at her, but there's still the sensation of a leopardess whirling its head and snapping at an irritant. "<i>Should</i> their ire be cooled? Sometimes I think every stone in this wretched city deserves to be pulled apart. There's an evil here that has sunk in deep." "Conventional magic won't save the tree," you begin, glancing at Halek, "and nor will the Hunters' grace—the Rot has spread all throughout the cells of the tree and it can't be separated or purged, not when it's had months to poison and corrupt and leach into the tree's essence itself, but—" "But surely you can speak with Ashaniel," Lavinet says urgently, heedless of what you're saying and focusing on Tallys's stony face. "He seems a reasonable man, and he's a respected elder in the community. If we find a way to break the news to him—palatably—and counsel him to control tempers…" "<i>Ashaniel</i> will be the one leading the march!" Tallys bursts out then, more fiercely than you've ever heard her speak. "He was our greatest general, and the Norms lamed him! Now they defile his last connection to the homeland they already destroyed. There is no <i>palatable</i> way to present that truth, and I won't be counseling him to do anything. <i>He will lead the Elves in an Uprising</i>, and these fucking animals will have deserved it!" Lavinet rocks back on her heels, her face blank with astonishment. The words ring against the absolute silence and stone walls like the ricochet of a bullet. For a moment, no one says a word, listening to the echoes bounce and fade and warp. Then Halek says, the timbre of his voice low and gravelly: "I understand how you feel, Tallys. More than most, I think. But don't forget: it was <i>my</i> people who led the Uprising last time. And they were exiled for it. Thousands died, either in the riots or in the exodus afterward, starving to death on the road, preyed on by bandits, what have you. I really wouldn't recommend it." "We should try to avert such a thing at all costs," Lavinet murmurs, looking pale and shaken. "There are innocents who would be caught in the crossfire, and—the actions of two corrupt Vice Guards should not evoke judgment on all Norms in this city—" Both you and Halek wince. Tallys draws herself up before saying icily, "I will not be discussing this further." Then she turns on her heel and vanishes around the corner. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Go after her.</div>' 'autogenerated_686412'>><<settallys +5>><<set $tallysromanceflag += 1>><<set $followtallys to "mc">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Tell Lavinet to go after her.</div>' 'autogenerated_686413'>><<set $followtallys to "lavinet">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Tell Halek to go after her.</div>' 'autogenerated_686414'>><<set $followtallys to "halek">><<sethalek +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Leave her be. She needs time to gather her thoughts.</div>' 'autogenerated_686415'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if ($gender is "male") and ($lavinetromanceflag >= 3)>> <<set $lavinetromanceflag -= 5>> <<set $lavinet -= 7>> <<elseif $lavinet < 65>> <<set $lavinet -= 5>> <</if>><</nobr>> You dart after Tallys, but she seems to flee before you like a ghost; with every turn of the labyrinthine, unfamiliar corridor, you keep catching a glimpse of her disappearing around another corner, her footfalls as silent and absent as a mirage's. Eventually, you put on an extra burst of speed, charging around the final corner only to find… An empty dead end. For the briefest moment, your brain tells you that Tallys has vanished into thin air, that she's climbed out the dead end's high window or phased through the walls completely. Then you spot the supply closet door to your right and pull it cautiously open. Tallys is standing there in the dark, her back to the door as her shoulders quake silently; she's half-sagged against the wall. <<include 'tallys_closet_options'>>

<<nobr>><<if $lavinet >= 65>> <<setlavinet +3>> <</if>><</nobr>>Both Halek and Lavinet's heads rotate to stare at you incredulously. "<i>Me</i>?" the aristocrat exclaims, not bothering to hide her surprise. "Darling, I hardly think I'm the person she wants to talk to at the moment…" <<include 'lavinet_follow_options'>>

<<nobr>><<if ($tallysromance is true) or ($tallyssex is true) or ($tallysromanceflag >= 20)>> <<set $tallysromanceflag -= 5>> <<set $tallys -= 5>> <</if>><</nobr>> Halek arches a brow, as if to say, <i>Me?</i> But he and Tallys get along well, sharing similar calm dispositions, and you know he can talk to her reasonably. So the Hunter inclines his head in acknowledgment and ambles off, his hands shoved deep in his pockets and his broad shoulders slouched. Lavinet turns to you once he's disappeared around the corner, looking apprehensive. "I feel as if I misstepped," she confides in a low voice. "Something I do frequently with Tallys, to be sure. But—we are officers of the law, sworn to uphold peace. To support an Uprising…" <<include 'lavinet_convo_options'>>

<<nobr>><<if $tallys < 70>> <<set $tallys -= 5>> <<set $tallysromanceflag -= 5>> <</if>><</nobr>> Lavinet grimaces, and Halek looks skeptical, but they both cede to your decision and look away from the corner Tallys disappeared around. "Now we just need to decide what to say about our findings," you state grimly, clenching your fist so that your nails dig into your palm. Halek blows out a breath. "Almost more unpleasant than tracking down these assholes in the first place," he says. <<include 'ashaniel_meeting_prep5'>>

<<page_break "Next" "ashaniel_meeting_prep">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if ($tallyssex is true) or ($tallysromance is true) or ($tallysromanceflag >= 25)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Draw into your arms. "Oh, love, I'm sorry..."</div>' 'autogenerated_686416'>><<set $tallysromanceflag += 5>><<settallys +5>><</link>><</if>> <<if $tallys >= 70>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Give her a hug. "It's okay. Just let it out."</div>' 'autogenerated_686417'>><<settallys +3>><<set $tallysromanceflag += 1>><</link>><</if>> <<if $tallys < 70>><div class="inactive-item">Give her a hug. "It's okay. Just let it out."</div><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Touch her shoulder. "Are you okay?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686418'>><<settallys +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Hang back. "Do you want to be alone?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686419'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Seeing Tallys like this nearly tears the heart out of you, but all you can do is hold her as tightly as you can, trying to imbue the gesture with all the warmth and comfort and silent feeling you can. She isn't crying, not exactly—at least your collar isn't damp with her tears—but her body is wracked with shuddering, heaving breaths: you're not sure if they're suppressed sobs or hyperventilation or both. You stroke her hair, murmuring to her there in the dark, and after a while, Tallys relaxes against you. She so rarely lets her composure crack like this, as unbending and resilient as a stone mountain or an oaken tree—now you understand the surname Ironwood—but with you, she can be vulnerable and needing of support. You feel the lean, wiry strength of her as she leans against you, smell the mint and basil scent of her hair. She draws back after a moment and says in a strange, choked voice: "I <i>hate</i> them." In the dark, you can't see her expression, but you can imagine the fierce glitter in her eyes as she says it. <<include 'iknowtallys'>>

For a brief instant, Tallys holds her body rigid, almost as if reluctant to lean against you or depend on you… but then she relents, allowing you to guide her into an embrace as her hands come up to curl around your coat front. You rub her back and make soothing noises as she shudders against you. She isn't crying, not exactly—at least your collar isn't damp with her tears—but her body heaves with silent, gasping breaths: you're not sure if they're suppressed sobs or the hyperventilation of rage or both. She so rarely lets her composure crack like this, as unbending and resilient as a stone mountain or an oaken tree—now you understand the surname Ironwood—but the fact that she can be raw and vulnerable like this in front of you shows the trust you've built between you. After a long moment, Tallys draws back and says in a strange, choked voice: "I <i>hate</i> them." In the dark, you can't see her expression, but you can imagine the fierce glitter in her eyes as she says it. <<include 'iknowtallys'>>

"Yes," she raps out, her voice brittle, almost harsh. "Just—just give me a moment. Please." <<include 'averttallys'>>

"No," she says harshly, still without turning to look at you. She draws a shaking hand across her eyes. "Just… just give me a moment." <<include 'averttallys'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Nod gravely. "I know."</div>' 'autogenerated_686420'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Grip her shoulders. "I do, too."</div>' 'autogenerated_686421'>><<set $tallysharden -= 2>><<settallys +5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Sigh. "I understand."</div>' 'autogenerated_686422'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Say nothing.</div>' 'autogenerated_686423'>><<settallys -5>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if ($tallyssex is true) or ($tallysromance is true)>> Tallys regards you for a long moment, her face inscrutable, before she suddenly leans forward and kisses you. It's probably not the time, but you find yourself responding enthusiastically, especially when your lips part and your tongues touch, sending a telltale jolt clear through you. When you part several moments later, both of your breaths are ragged. <br><br> Tallys sighs and leans her forehead against yours. <<else>> Tallys sighs and runs a hand over her eyes; she looks sadder and more shaken than you've ever seen her. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'tallys_lavinet_confrontation'>>

Tallys sighs and runs a hand over her eyes; she looks sadder and more shaken than you've ever seen her. <<include 'tallys_lavinet_confrontation'>>

Tallys regards you for a long moment in silence. <<include 'tallys_lavinet_confrontation'>>

You wait, averting your eyes as she makes an effort to compose herself—it seems the only kindness you can give her at the moment—before she finally turns back to you, her jaw clenched so tightly that a muscle ticks in it. "I <i>hate</i> them," she whispers in a strange, choked voice. In the dark, you can't see her expression, but you can imagine the fierce glitter in her eyes as she says it. <<include "iknowtallys">>

"<i>She</i> doesn't understand," she continues, her voice bitter. The air around her thrums with dull rage. "How could she hope to? They're <i>her</i> people, and she was raised in the cradle of wealth and luxury, never denied or left wanting for anything. They took everything from us, and now they take even more, even the small scraps of our heritage we've managed to cling to after their Castigation. They can't even leave us a <i>tree</i>—" She reels for a moment, gasping almost as if she's been physically wounded, as if she can't get enough air, before she steadies herself and continues with an effort, "She doesn't understand that pain. That <i>anger</i>." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I know. Tallys, I <i>know</i>. But Lavinet's right about one thing. An Uprising isn't going to help anyone. It'll only get more Elves killed. We have to do everything we can to prevent that."</div>' 'autogenerated_686424'>><<set $tallysharden += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"She's been trying, but to be blunt, you haven't made it very easy for her."</div>' 'autogenerated_686425'>><<settallys -1>><<setlavinet +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Maybe not. The two of you come from opposing backgrounds. But I also think you share commonalities. If you'd just give her the chance, I think you'd see that she's on your side, just as we all are."</div>' 'autogenerated_686426'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You're looking at this the wrong way. The fact that Lavinet is so different from you is a boon, not a detriment. Can you imagine what good you could do with a friend who wields such influence? If you could sway someone of her status and means to understand your cause, the things your people go through? With her help, you could enact real change. You <i>need</i> someone like Lavinet on your side."</div>' 'autogenerated_686427'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

She makes a sound, half a growl of frustration or dissent, and steps away from you. But after a long, hard moment, she relents and says reluctantly, "I suppose you're right. If Quel-Qanaeon dies, we lose much. But if more die to avenge it, we lose… so much more." You nod, trying to give her an encouraging smile. But she meets your eye and adds, "But we still need to tell them the truth. I can't… I won't lie to protect those… <i>scumbags</i>." It's rare to hear the Elf use such coarse language, but you suppose it's well-deserved. You nod slowly. "We'll figure something out. I promise." She doesn't quite smile, but she lays a hand on your arm in silent thanks. <<include 'ashaniel_meeting_prep5'>>

<<nobr>><<if $tallysromanceflag > 1>> <<set $tallysromanceflag -= 5>> <</if>><</nobr>> Tallys stares at you for a moment, then shakes her head. "This is neither here nor there," she mutters, stepping back from you. "Our path remains unchanged. We need to tell the Elves of Ashtown what's happened." <<include 'yousightallys'>>

"She may not be able to understand or feel your specific pain," you say, "like many of the Shepherds can't—but that doesn't mean she can't support and help you. You don't even have to be friends. You just have to know that she's an ally… if you let her be one." Tallys stares at you for a long, long moment, her face blank. "What could the two of us possibly have in common?" <<include 'tallys_lavinet_common_ground'>>

<<nobr>><<if ($cunning >= 70) and ($lavinet >= 60) and ($tallys >= 65) and ($tallysharden > 1)>> <<set $tallyslavinetfriends to true>> <<settallys +5>> <<setcunning +2>> Tallys stares at you for a long moment, as if dumbfounded by this revelation. Clearly, it never occurred to her. She shakes her head after a moment and begins, her tone uncertain, "I do not found my friendships based on—what they can do for me. What I can gain from them." <br><br> You nod. "Of course. I'm only pointing out that you don't need to treat her as if she's your enemy." <br><br> The Elf looks thoughtful as she digests this. "You… have a fair point," she admits finally. "And far be it from me to… discriminate, I suppose. Perhaps I have been… blinded to her merits. We'll see." <<else>> Tallys shakes her head. "I am no politician," she says firmly. "I don't found my friendships based on their advantages or what I can gain from them." <</if>><</nobr>> Then she looks away. "But at the moment, we have far bigger things to worry about. We still need to tell the Elves of Ashtown what happened." <<include 'yousightallys'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You're both strong leaders."</div>' 'yourebothtallyslavinet'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You're both mature and far-sighted."</div>' 'yourebothtallyslavinet'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You're both women."</div>' 'autogenerated_686428'>><<setintelligence -5>><<setcharisma -1>><<settallys -5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Why don't you give her a chance and find out?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686429'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $gender != "female">> <<settallys -5>> <</if>><</nobr>> "…" Tallys stares at you with such a deadened, unimpressed expression that you immediately feel embarrassed. As you shift awkwardly, she deadpans, "Ah, yes, the basis of such strong friendships throughout history. I will be sure to reach out and bond with her over the womanly experience when I get the chance." <<include 'tallys_commonalities_end'>>

<<nobr>><<if ($charisma >= 65) and ($lavinet >= 60) and ($tallys >= 65) and ($tallysharden > 1)>> <<set $tallysharden += 1>> <<set $tallyslavinetfriends to true>> <<set $lavinet += 5>> <<settallys +5>> Tallys lets out a soft huff, almost as if she can't believe your gall. But there's half a smile on her face as she cedes: "Fair enough. I'll… I'll try. Far be it from me to… discriminate, I suppose." She grips your forearm in the Elven gesture of friendship; then her face sobers. <<else>> Tallys shakes her head, her expression tight and uncertain. "I'll… try," she says, but her tone is skeptical and promises nothing. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'tallys_commonalities_end'>>

<<nobr>><<if ($lavinet >= 60) and ($tallys >= 65) and ($tallysharden > 1)>> <<set $tallyslavinetfriends to true>> <<settallys +5>> <<set $lavinet += 5>> <<set $tallysharden += 1>> Tallys blinks, opens her mouth—then tilts her head, as if considering your words. After a moment, she lets out a sigh and says, "I'll… give your words due consideration. Perhaps you have a point. I… I suppose it would be hypocritical of me to… discriminate. I…" She stops talking and shakes her head. "I suppose I can try," she finishes finally, her tone ambivalent, almost uncertain or skeptical. <<else>> Tallys blinks, opens her mouth—then tilts her head, as if considering your words. After a moment, she lets out a sigh and says, "I'll… give your words due consideration. Perhaps you have a point. I… I suppose it would be hypocritical of me to… discriminate. I…" She stops talking and shakes her head. "I suppose I can try," she finishes finally, her tone ambivalent, almost uncertain or skeptical. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "tallys_commonalities_end">>

Then she looks away. "But at the moment, we have far bigger things to worry about. We still need to tell the Elves of Ashtown what's happened." <<include "yousightallys">>

You heave a sigh, watching her. "Are you sure that's the wisest course of action?" you ask. Tallys lifts her chin, her expression now smoothed into one of grim, resigned serenity. "The path is closed," she says quietly. "So I suppose we'll just have to do it and see." <<page_break "Next" "ashaniel_meeting_prep">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"If you don't go now, the rift between the two of you will only grow bigger. Show her that she can trust you, and that you care."</div>' 'autogenerated_686430'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Tallys needs a sympathetic ear right now, someone who's good with people. Who better than you?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686431'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You're <i>exactly</i> the person she should be talking to at the moment. Help her remember that not all Norms are monsters."</div>' 'autogenerated_686432'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Just don't focus on arguing with her or making her feel like her feelings are wrong. Just <i>listen</i>, and she'll come around."</div>' 'autogenerated_686433'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Doesn't matter. That's an order."</div>' 'autogenerated_686434'>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setcharisma -4>><<sethalek -5>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if ($lavinet >= 60) and ($tallys >= 65) and ($tallysharden > 1)>> <<set $tallyslavinetfriends to true>> <<settallys +5>> <<setlavinet +5>> <<set $tallysharden += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> Lavinet nods slowly, thoughtfully. "Very well," she murmurs, looking a bit daunted—but then she straightens her back and moves to follow Tallys. When the clicking sounds of her heeled boots fade around the corner, Halek turns to you and arches a brow. "Are you sure that was wise?" he asks. You nod. "Those two have more in common than they think, and I know Tallys <i>wants</i> to respect Lavinet and her viewpoint, just as Lavinet wants to understand Tallys's feelings. They just… needed a little push to do it." The Hunter sighs heavily and shoves his hands into his pockets. "I pray you're right," he admits. "And that you're not just sending an lioness into another one's territory. Lavinet's trying, but she's strong-headed and opinionated, and she's got her pride, too. With any luck, they'll both make it back without being savaged." <<include 'ashaniel_meeting_prep5'>>

<<nobr>><<if ($lavinet >= 60) and ($tallys >= 65) and ($tallysharden > 1)>> <<set $tallyslavinetfriends to true>> <<settallys +5>> <<setlavinet +8>> <<set $tallysharden += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> Lavinet nods slowly, thoughtfully. "Very well," she murmurs, looking a bit daunted—but then she straightens her back and moves to follow Tallys. When the clicking sounds of her heeled boots fade around the corner, Halek turns to you and arches a brow. "Are you sure that was wise?" he asks. You nod. "Those two have more in common than they think, and I know Tallys <i>wants</i> to respect Lavinet and her viewpoint, just as Lavinet wants to understand Tallys's feelings. They just… needed a little push to do it." The Hunter sighs heavily and shoves his hands into his pockets. "I pray you're right," he admits. "And that you're not just sending an lioness into another one's territory. Lavinet's trying, but she's strong-headed and opinionated, and she's got her pride, too. With any luck, they'll both make it back without being savaged." <<include 'ashaniel_meeting_prep5'>>

<<nobr>><<if ($lavinet >= 60) and ($tallys >= 65) and ($tallysharden > 1)>> <<set $tallyslavinetfriends to true>> <<setlavinet +5>> <<set $tallysharden += 2>> <</if>><</nobr>> Lavinet nods slowly, thoughtfully. "Very well," she murmurs, looking a bit daunted—but then she straightens her back and moves to follow Tallys. When the clicking sounds of her heeled boots fade around the corner, Halek turns to you and arches a brow. "Are you sure that was wise?" he asks. You nod. "Those two have more in common than they think, and I know Tallys <i>wants</i> to respect Lavinet and her viewpoint, just as Lavinet wants to understand Tallys's feelings. They just… needed a little push to do it." The Hunter sighs heavily and shoves his hands into his pockets. "I pray you're right," he admits. "And that you're not just sending an lioness into another one's territory. Lavinet's trying, but she's strong-headed and opinionated, and she's got her pride, too. With any luck, they'll both make it back without being savaged." <<include 'ashaniel_meeting_prep5'>>

<<nobr>><<if ($lavinet >= 60) and ($tallys >= 65) and ($tallysharden > 1)>> <<set $tallyslavinetfriends to true>> <<settallys +8>> <<set $tallysharden += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> Lavinet nods slowly, thoughtfully. "Very well," she murmurs, looking a bit daunted—but then she straightens her back and moves to follow Tallys. When the clicking sounds of her heeled boots fade around the corner, Halek turns to you and arches a brow. "Are you sure that was wise?" he asks. You nod. "Those two have more in common than they think, and I know Tallys <i>wants</i> to respect Lavinet and her viewpoint, just as Lavinet wants to understand Tallys's feelings. They just… needed a little push to do it." The Hunter sighs heavily and shoves his hands into his pockets. "I pray you're right," he admits. "And that you're not just sending an lioness into another one's territory. Lavinet's trying, but she's strong-headed and opinionated, and she's got her pride, too. With any luck, they'll both make it back without being savaged." <<include 'ashaniel_meeting_prep5'>>

<<nobr>><<if $rank is "Officer">> <<setlavinet -20>> <<else>> <<setlavinet -10>> <</if>> <<if $lavinetromanceflag > 0>> <<set $lavinetromanceflag to 0>> <</if>><</nobr>> Halek frowns at you, and Lavinet's eyes briefly widen as if you'd slapped her. Then her expression retreats behind the cool courtier's mask of polished indifference, and she dips you a brief curtsy—undoubtedly sarcastic—and says softly, "As you wish, <<c rank>>." After the clicking sounds of her heels fade around the corner, Halek sends you a droll look, arching his brow. "A bit harsh, don't you think?" You merely shrug, so after a moment of eyeing you warily, he sighs and shoves his hands into his pockets. "Well," the Hunter mutters to himself, "let's just hope they both make it back in one piece." <<include 'ashaniel_meeting_prep5'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"She's upset and angry, rightfully so. You should have just let her vent without trying to cut it off prematurely."</div>' 'fairhit'>><<settallys +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Tallys and her people have been hurt time and time again. The Autarchy and its agents have robbed them of everything. If she feels that way, the <i>last</i> person who should be telling her she shouldn't is you."</div>' 'fairhit'>><<setlavinet -1>><<settallys +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I know. It's up to us to make sure it doesn't come to that."</div>' 'autogenerated_686435'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Lay a hand on her arm. "I'm glad you spoke your mind. It's what I was thinking, too."</div>' 'autogenerated_686436'>><<setlavinet +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Lavinet nods gravely. "I suppose it's too much to hope that we <i>don't</i> tell the Elves of our findings?" You shake your head. "The truth will get out at some point. Better it comes from us rather than someone far worse." She purses her lips. "You're right, of course. I only hope our involvement isn't the catalyst that sparks chaos…" <<include 'ashaniel_meeting_prep5'>>

<<nobr>><<if $gender is "male">> <<set $lavinetromanceflag += 3>> <</if>> <<if ($tallyssex is true) or ($tallysromance is true) or ($tallysromanceflag >= 20)>> <<set $tallysromanceflag -= 5>> <<settallys -5>> <</if>><</nobr>> She gives you a weary smile. "Indeed? That… that's heartening to hear, <<c firstname>>. It makes me feel… not so wrong-footed, or out of my depth." <<nobr>><<if ($lavinetromanceflag >= 15) and ($aroace is false) and ($ace is false)>> Her eyes dip to your hand on her arm, then flit up to meet your gaze. There's the smallest pause, the tiniest jolt between you; you're standing very close, and the sweet bergamot scent of her hair is warm and beguiling. Suddenly you feel the urge to crush her full lips against yours and have to hold the desire back between your teeth. <</if>><</nobr>> Then the two of you look away, and you release her. Lavinet clears her throat and steps back. "Now we just need to decide what to say about our findings." <<include 'ashaniel_meeting_prep5'>>

Lavinet winces, then dips her head in acknowledgment, her fist rising to meet her chest in a fencer's gesture to indicate a fair hit. "You're right," she murmurs. "I'll… I'll apologize to her in private. After all this is done." <<page_break "Next" "ashaniel_meeting_prep">>

<<nobr>><<if $followtallys is "halek">> After Halek and Tallys rejoin you some time later, the tawny Elf's expression is once again one of cool and dignified self-command. However, her iron certainty that the truth must be revealed to the Elves of Ashtown hasn't changed; if you choose not to tell Ashaniel of what you've learned, she'll go to the Elven Quarter and do it herself. "I won't lie to my people to cover up those <i>hresta's</i> crimes," she declares in immovable, resonant tones. "Nor will I pretend at incompetence in order to shield theirs." <br><br> The three of you nod at this. "That's fair enough," you admit. <br><br> "They'll likely find out somehow anyway," Halek points out. "Better it comes from us now than… through some other unexpected avenue." <br><br> Lavinet sighs, but (perhaps wisely) chooses not to interject. Thus decided, you rally yourselves to return to the Elven Quarter. <br><br> <<include "ashanielreconvene">> <<elseif ($followtallys is "lavinet") and ($tallyslavinetfriends is true)>> When Tallys and Lavinet return some time later, you're surprised to find them walking together familiarly, Lavinet's hand tucked into the crook of Tallys's elbow as if they were old friends. The aristocrat gifts you a small, secret smile and a dip of the head; Tallys isn't quite smiling, but she seems… at peace, her composure regained. <br><br> However, her certainty that the Elves of Ashtown must be told the truth hasn't changed. <br><br> "I am sorry for my outburst earlier," she says quietly, "but I won't lie to my people to cover up those <i>hresta's</i> crimes. Nor will I pretend at incompetence in order to shield theirs." <br><br> The three of you nod at this. "That's fair enough," you admit. <br><br> "They'll likely find out somehow anyway," Halek points out. "Better it comes from us now than… through some other unexpected avenue." <br><br> Lavinet sighs, but (perhaps wisely) chooses not to interject. Thus decided, you rally yourselves to return to the Elven Quarter. <br><br> <<include "ashanielreconvene">> <<elseif $followtallys is "lavinet">> When Tallys and Lavinet return some time later, you're not sure that anything has changed between them: they still keep a wary distance between each other, moving stiffly. But Tallys's composure has been regained, at least, and her expression is once again that of cool and dignified self-command. <br><br> However, her iron certainty that the truth must be revealed to the Elves of Ashtown hasn't changed; if you choose not to tell Ashaniel of what you've learned, she'll go to the Elven Quarter and do it herself. "I won't lie to my people to cover up those <i>hresta's</i> crimes," she declares in immovable, resonant tones. "Nor will I pretend at incompetence in order to shield theirs." <br><br> The three of you nod at this. "That's fair enough," you admit. <br><br> "They'll likely find out somehow anyway," Halek points out. "Better it comes from us now than… through some other unexpected avenue." <br><br> Lavinet sighs, but (perhaps wisely) chooses not to interject. Thus decided, you rally yourselves to return to the Elven Quarter. <br><br> <<include "ashanielreconvene">> <<elseif $followtallys is "mc">> <<include "ashaniel_confrontation">> <<else>> When Tallys rejoins you some time later, her expression is once again one of cool and dignified self-command, though the skin around her eyes looks suspiciously chafed and irritated. However, her iron certainty that the truth must be revealed to the Elves of Ashtown hasn't changed; if you choose not to tell Ashaniel of what you've learned, she'll go to the Elven Quarter and do it herself. "I won't lie to my people to cover up those <i>hresta's</i> crimes," she declares in immovable, resonant tones. "Nor will I pretend at incompetence in order to shield theirs." <br><br> The three of you nod at this. "That's fair enough," you admit. <br><br> "They'll likely find out somehow anyway," Halek points out. "Better it comes from us now than… through some other unexpected avenue." <br><br> Lavinet sighs, but (perhaps wisely) chooses not to interject. Thus decided, you rally yourselves to return to the Elven Quarter. <br><br> <<include "ashanielreconvene">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<page_break "Next" "ashaniel_confrontation">>

<<set $turnkerne to false>>Valri, Tallys, and Lavinet all look up as you reenter the room, expressions tight and expectant. The air simmers with tension, and one glance at your teammates' faces tells you that they haven't uncovered any fresh ground with Valri Riegar. You can only hope you'll fare better. You figure that cutting straight to the choice will throw her off her guard more than building up the suspense, so you state, folding your arms: "I know you and Kerne were assigned to dispose of the Black Sun, Riegar. Your own captain just showed me the paperwork. The only question is: why did you bury it in the Elven Quarter?" The room goes still and taut, as if the very air has been sucked out of it. Tallys sucks in a sharp breath, as if she's been punched. Lavinet sits up straight in her seat. There's a loud, thundering silence as you all stare at each other; it feels as if the moment is trapped in amber. Then Valri Riegar crosses her muscular arms, her eyes going half-lidded like a lazing lioness's. She sounds unconcerned as she drawls, "I don't know why you're acting like that's some big revelation. It's not like we were trying to keep it a secret: like you said, it's right there in the paperwork. But what's all this about burying it in Elftown?" "You must have put two and two together," you answer tightly. "We found the cache buried in an empty lot there. You never destroyed it in the Sun's Embrace, as you were assigned to: you just stuck it in a hole and hoped no one would notice." "Prove it." "What?" "Prove it." She eyes you, assessing. Probing you with her burning blue eyes. "What's your evidence? I'd love to hear if you have any, considering I know we didn't do it. We trundled it off to the processing site in the valley just like we were supposed to, and burned it up. Whatever you found in Elftown doesn't have anything to do with us." You stare her down. She's sticking to her story with grim tenacity, but you expected that. <<include "breakriegar">>

<<nobr>><<if $riegarbreak >= 12>> <br><br> <<include "riegarconfession">> <<else>> <<include "breakriegar2">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited ("riegar_call_bluff")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">Call her bluff. "What's the processing site look like? Did you use a furnace or a pyre to burn the stuff?"</div>' 'riegar_call_bluff'>><<setcunning +1>><<set $riegarbreak += 1>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited ("riegar_genius")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"Look, it doesn't take a genius to put two and two together. You and Kerne were assigned to get rid of Black Sun. You patrol in the Elven Quarter every day. A large cache of Black Sun was discovered <i>in the Elven Quarter</i>, your very beat. People have been convicted by the high courts on far less."</div>' 'riegar_genius'>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($turnkerne is false) and not (hasVisited ("riegar_bluff_kerne"))>><<link '<div class="talk-item">Lie. "Your partner Kerne already threw you under the horsecart. He said it was all <i>your</i> idea, hoping to save his own hide while you get thrown to the wolves."</div>' 'riegar_bluff_kerne'>><<set $turnkerne to true>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($turnkerne is false) and ($riegarreason is true) and not (hasVisited ("riegar_save_yourself"))>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"Look, it's not too late to save yourself. You want to have any hope of clawing your way out of this shit patrol and back to where you really belong, like Special Enforcement? Ditch Kerne. He's a deadbeat, and you still have ambition and promise."</div>' 'riegar_save_yourself'>><<set $riegarbreak += 5>><<set $turnkerne to true>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited ("riegar_scare")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"I don't have to tell you what they do to criminals, Riegar. If you don't make the right move here, they're going to do terrible things to you. If you're lucky, you'll go to prison. If you're not... it could be the noose for you. Or the axe."</div>' 'riegar_scare'>><<set $riegarbreak -= 1>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You press, and press, and press, attacking her from all sides...</div>' 'riegarfailure'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

An ugly flush creeps up Riegar's collar. "What does it look like? I…" "It was only a few months ago that you disposed of the Black Sun, right?" you ask crisply. "And you spent, what, several hours at the site burning it? So remind me what it looked like. Where did you hitch your horse? What method did you use to destroy the drug?" "I…" Riegar's lips tighten. "I don't recall." "You don't recall a single detail?" Lavinet asks silkily. "Odd, that." <<include "breakriegar">>

<<nobr>><<if $intelligence >= 60>> <<set $riegarbreak += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>>Riegar's face falters, just for an instant, but she insists stubbornly, "What's your proof?" <<include "breakriegar">>

Riegar's nose twitches. "You're bluffing. He wouldn't do that." <<nobr>><<if $cunning >= 70>> <<set $riegarbreak += 3>> You lift a brow. "Oh, no? You think a man like that has any loyalty? He's too cowardly to take on anything but the lamest patrols—him, a veteran, still doing the work of a swabbie recruit! He won't even put himself on the front lines to protect civilians, or help out his fellow officers. He has no sense of camaraderie or selflessness. He's a self-serving yellowbelly. You really think he'd step into the hangman's noose for you?" <br><br> All the color has drained from Riegar's face; she looks so tense and brittle she might shatter. She doesn't say a word. <<include "breakriegar">> <<else>> You lift a brow. "Oh, no? He told me everything, Riegar. Couldn't wait to point the finger at you. Maybe you should have treated him better." <br><br> She stares at you for a long, hard moment. Then she shakes her head. "If he already told you what you want to know," she says dully, "then why are you talking to me?" <<include "breakriegar2">> <</if>><</nobr>>

"All you need to do is be the first one to speak," you tell her. "Give us your side of the story. I'm guessing the whole thing was his idea? It seems right up his alley: the man's lazy and incompetent enough for it. So it's his neck that should hang, not yours. You can still <i>do</i> something with your life, turn things around. But him?… He's a veteran still doing the work of swabbie recruits because he's too cowardly to risk doing anything more. He might as well be a dead man walking already. He's got nothing left to offer the world." Valri Riegar's eyes spark, and she flushes, but she doesn't say a word. One pale eyebrow twitches, and you think you've struck a nerve. <<include "breakriegar">>

Riegar stares at you for a long, long time. Finally she says, her voice soft, "You think that's going to scare me? I've been to Hael and back, Shepherd. Your little horror stories aren't going to turn <i>my</i> knees weak." She looks like she's close to spitting. "If that's what the One-God has in store for me, then so be it. But I don't think you have near enough evidence to get that far." <<include "breakriegar2">>

<<set $confession to true>><<setreputation +2>><<settallys +3>><<sethalek +2>><<setlavinet +2>>You open your mouth to say more, but, abruptly, Riegar snaps: "Fine." Tallys's hands clench together while Lavinet straightens. You raise a brow. "'Fine'?" "<i>Fine</i>," Valri Riegar grits out. "So we buried the kak in Elftown. It was all Kerne's idea, not mine! The man kept moaning and groaning about having to lug the shit all the way out to the Sun's Embrace, how he's been working too long to get stuck with chores like a swabbie errand boy, how he just wanted to get back to his bottle and a warm whore in his lap. You couldn't believe his complaining! And he's my senior officer—what was I supposed to do? So to shut him up, I went along with it, but…" "What were you supposed to do?" Tallys says then, in a low, deadly voice. She stands, unfolding herself to stand at her willowy but suddenly formidable height. Almost unwillingly, Lavinet lays a hand against her forearm; Tallys doesn't seem to notice. "You were <i>supposed</i> to do your job. You were supposed to know better than to bury a dangerous narcotic—and a product of demonwork, no less!—in a residential area where <i>children</i> play!" You've never seen her composure crack like this; Tallys's eyes spark with a dangerous green light. Riegar stares at her, but continues defensively, "We buried it in an empty lot. Ten feet deep in the earth, where no one could get at it. No one's used that space in years, and besides, there's no law against what we did. We didn't commit a crime." She looks away. "Sure, we cut corners, and they can punish us for that, give us a demerit or Hael, dock our pay. But we thought we were just burying refuse, the same way you do with ashes or dung or oil or rotten meat so the animals can't get at it." "The difference is, ashes or dung don't <i>poison the earth</i> you bury it in," you snap at her. "Black Sun was borne of a Faceless Lord and carries its demonic Rot! What if people had built their homes on top of that spot? What if it leached into their groundwater and made the entire neighborhood ill—or addicted? The thought never occurred to you?" Riegar fairly gapes at you, her face slack and unguarded for once. She genuinely looks like she never considered the harm that their actions could wreak. Could they really have done all of this out of pure, stupid laziness? "No," Tallys says darkly, staring down at Riegar like she'd love to reach across the table and throttle her. "Of course it never occurred to them. Why consider the wellbeing of the people in that district? They're <i>Elves</i>. Worrying about their health and safety is a foreign concept to these <i>mutis</i>. It takes <i>effort</i> to remember that we're people." "It's not like that!" Riegar cries. "I don't like my patrol, sure, but I wouldn't like it in any part of the city—the Elves got nothing to do with it—" "But they do," Lavinet informs her quietly. "The spot where you buried the Black Sun also contained roots from the Elves' sacred tree. Because of your irresponsibility, that tree is poisoned with the essence of a Faceless Lord. And it's dying." Tallys sucks in another sharp breath; you think her narrow shoulders might be trembling. <<nobr>><<if ($tallyssex is true) or ($tallysromance is true) or ($tallysromanceflag >= 20)>> You quash the urge to draw her into your arms and hold her, wrenching your attention back to Riegar with an effort. <</if>><</nobr>> Riegar is rendered sincerely agog by your revelations. "But we didn't <i>know</i>," she whispers. "That hole is a damn mile away from the tree. We didn't mean to hurt it. Or anyone. We didn't think anyone would find out or even care…" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Despite yourself, you feel a flicker of sympathy. "I'll make it clear that you didn't have malice in your hearts. But I can't promise it will matter."</div>' 'riegar_confession_end'>><<settallys -5>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Shake your head. "That's not a good defense, Riegar. A lot of people kill on accident or by mistake. Doesn't mean they don't deserve punishment for their actions."</div>' 'riegar_confession_end'>><<settallys +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Glare at her. "I don't give a shit if you didn't <i>mean</i> to. You did it. Now you have to pay."</div>' 'riegar_confession_end'>><<settallys +1>><<set $tallysharden -= 1>><<setcompassionate -1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Riegar goes quiet after that, the true gravity of the situation seeming finally to sink in. You're able to extract a similar confession from Andrius Kerne when you confront him with what his partner has said, and at last the puzzle is complete: the Vice Guard duo buried the drug in the Elven Quarter out of sheer laziness. When you finally file out of the room, it's less with an air of satisfaction than it is the grim, head-shaking silence of disbelief. Tallys, in particular, seems as if she's turned to stone. <<include "tallysconfrontation">>

But in the end, Riegar doesn't budge. She insists that she didn't have anything to do with Black Sun poisoning Quel-Qanaeon. And so does Andrius Kerne, when you take a run at him. No matter how much you prod and interrogate, no matter what angles you come at them from… the two of them refuse to incriminate yourselves. After hours of interrogation that leave your throat hoarse and raw, Riegar finally drawls, "…Are you arresting me, <<c rank>>?" <<include "failconfessfail">>

But in the end, Kerne doesn't budge. He insists that he doesn't know anything about the Black Sun poisoning Quel-Qanaeon. And so does Valri Riegar, when you take a run at her. No matter how much you prod and harangue, no matter what angles you come at them from… the two of them refuse to incriminate themselves. After hours of interrogation that leave your throat hoarse and raw, Riegar abruptly says, "Are you arresting me, <<c rank>>?" <<include "failconfessfail">>

You clench your fist against your thigh. "I haven't," you answer tightly. She stands, faintly contemptuous and just as confident as ever. "Then there's nothing stopping me from walking out of here, is there? I'm sick of going over the same thing over and over. Talk to me when you have something new to say… or don't. In fact, I'd be just as happy never seeing your faces again." And with that, she strides out of the interrogation room… a free woman. Kerne eventually wisens up and takes his leave, too. And there's nothing you can do to stop them. <<page_break "Next" "failconfession">>

<<nobr>><<set $reputation -= 10>> <<settallys -5>> <<setlavinet -3>> <<sethalek -1>> <<set $elves -= 20>><</nobr>> Tallys, predictably, is furious once you've reconvened in the hallway outside to review your options. "We <i>know</i> they did it," she says tightly, standing so rigidly it seems as if she might shatter if you touch her. "Even if they won't confess to it, the way they've acted towards us—all of the obvious signs—it's as plain as day!" "Be that as it may," Halek murmurs, "what we can do about it without more evidence? Although we can put a call out for eyewitnesses, the chances of their existing are low: someone would have likely stepped forward to offer that information by now if they cared about Quel-Qanaeon. Two Vice Guards—or even strangers—burying a mysterious substance in a town square wouldn't have gone unremarked upon by the Elves if they'd been around to notice it." <<nobr>><<if $houndlot is true>> <br><br> "There <i>was</i> a witness," you hazard, explaining about the Ordelian hound. <br><br> Halek regards you with a gimlet eye. "I highly doubt the high courts will convict based on the testimony of a dog," he says, straight-faced. "And besides, it sounds like that hound couldn't even say for sure that the figures it saw were Riegar and Kerne: they were just 'two cloaked figures with a cart,' right? It couldn't even tell you their genders. So it's not exactly usable information." <</if>><</nobr>> "But they can't get away with it!" Tallys begins indignantly. Her protest bounces off of the cold stone walls; with an effort, she moderates her voice, then continues in pitched, low tones: "Even if the <i>courts</i> won't convict, Ashaniel and the others still need to know. They need to know the true reason why their heartwood tree is dying!" You and the others glance at each other. Carefully, you begin, "If we tell Ashaniel that we're sure these two Vice Guards are responsible, but don't have enough evidence to convict them, would that make things worse? The unrest just from Riegar and Kerne's actions alone will be… significant. To add the sting that they likely won't face anything more than a slap on the wrist…" "It's intolerable," Tallys answers harshly. "I wouldn't be surprised if the outrage of it led directly to an Uprising. But perhaps the threat of that will cause the Autarch to punish those <i>hresta</i>, even without their confession." Lavinet stirs uneasily. "Or it will give the Autarchy more cause to strike back against the Elves, making it clear they can't be pressured to punish two of their own without evidence," she murmurs. "Enik Goldenson is a proud… principled… man. He may not take kindly to people using public outcry to try to force his hand." Tallys's eyes kindle with a deep green ferocity you've only glimpsed in her once or twice. "It will be left to the gods to decide, then," she says grimly. "Let us speak first to Ashaniel. Then we'll see." <<page_break "Next" "ashaniel_confrontation">>

Ashaniel Lithdel, predictably, is not pleased to receive your news. He sits like a statue carved from granite at his ornate dining room table—Tallys suggested discussing your revelations inside, where sharp-eared neighbors couldn't catch wind of anything unintended for them—his features graven and unfriendly. Outside his window, evening is beginning to creep across the sky in a dark watercolor bloom, the blue shadows of dusk swiftly gathering. The fact that you were able to solve this mystery so quickly and identify the culprits unfortunately does nothing to mollify him, or mitigate the unwelcome truth of what's happening (and what has been done) to Quel-Qanaeon. "We had our best plant-Mages and experts come take a look at the tree before we came here," you tell him, keeping your tone gentle. "And even other Hunters, as well. All of them confirmed what we already suspected: the essence of a Faceless Lord can't be extracted from it, not the same way a demonic soul can be separated and excised from a living Thrall it's latched on to. This would be more like… separating contaminants from a swift-running river after they've been dropped in, or separating ink from a page after you've spilled a bottle on it. The tree has already absorbed too much of the Rot all throughout its system. It… won't be able to recover." Ashaniel merely gazes at you with that perfect Elvish coolness, his lips thinned and his dark eyes half-lidded. His son Denan isn't present: supposedly he's at a colleague's house for dinner. "We… we understand how upsetting this news must be," Lavinet breaks in hesitantly, glancing covertly at Tallys, who similarly sits in silence. "But we hoped, in telling you first… that you could help us… ensure that any unhappiness from this doesn't…" Ashaniel's eyes move towards her, his glacial expression unthawed. Lavinet's voice wavers, but she forges on bravely, drawing herself up: "…result in further tragedy." Still, Ashaniel doesn't say a word, though you get the feeling he understands perfectly what she's getting at. You sit there in tense silence for several moments—Halek looks at you with a pained expression that suggests he'd kill several people just to get out of this room—before Tallys stirs and suddenly breaks into rapidfire Elvish. <<nobr>><<if $heritage is "Elf">> Your ears perk as you listen. <br><br> "Ashaniel'ir," she says in a low, fierce tone. "I know what it is you consider, and I hope you see in my heart how deeply I considered the very same thing. But Quel-Qanaeon is lost to us; it has already happened. You know as well as I that if we strike back against the Autarchy now, here in their stronghold and capital city, their army and their Vice Guard and their Inquisitors will decimate us. Blood will be shed. We will lose good people, like Denan and Hasthanvel'ir. Keepers and Speakers, brothers and sisters, parents and friends. Quel-Qanaeon is already enough. But the thousands of years of knowledge and memory that will be destroyed in an Uprising will equal a hundred heartwood trees. We <b>must</b> prevent that. Even the ones who don't die will be expelled from the city, as the Hunters were, and left to perish on the roads or starve to death in the winter. And more than that, sympathy for our people will be eroded once again. The quicklings' memories are dim. They are only now beginning to see us as people once again. If we present them with the picture the Autarchy has painted us with in the past—that of violent heathens, of frightening and murderous and inhuman warriors… we will be giving them further cause to hate and denounce us again, and even more injustices like this will be inflicted on our people in time. We must not play into their narrative." <br><br> The older Elf tilts his head, not a single silken hair out of place, regal and unmoved, his almond-shaped eyes glinting with consideration like a tactician before a chess move. Suddenly he looks every bit like the general he once was, not the courteous lover of tea and gardening you saw earlier today. "I do not disagree with you, Tallys'ion," he says, using the honorific suffix for a younger but respected colleague. "But I am not king of the Haven Elves; I am not their Speaker or their mayor, and there are many other Speakers, Keepers, and <i>istyri</i>—(wisemen, you mentally translate, exalted figures, celebrities, respected adviors)—among our community: doubtless many of whom <i>will</i> advocate for retribution. My voice alone will not sway their anger nor divert their pain. Some solution must be presented—some reparation or gesture made, some fragment of hope to seize—or the wildfire in their hearts will leap too high. Our people can not be asked to suffer such indignities without something offered as a balm for their wounds, even if it is only a meager gesture." <<else>> Ashaniel inclines his head to indicate that he's listening, and the two of them bandy sharp but lyrical-sounding words back and forth for several minutes. <</if>><</nobr>> Tallys nods slowly, then turns to you and the others. "Ashaniel'ir will not encourage the community to seek vengeance for Quel-Qanaeon's destruction," she says, her eyes downcast, "but only if some appropriate succor or relief is granted first. He cannot ease their ire with words alone: we must have something to offer them to lessen the sting of the wound, or to defang the serpent's bite, as it were." "Such as?" Lavinet asks warily. Tallys and Ashaniel glance at each other; he tilts his head again, murmurs something you don't catch, and Tallys sighs as if she'd been expecting that. "The execution of the parties responsible would be a start," she begins heavily. "It would be a powerful gesture from the Autarch, that he would be willing to exact justice against two of his own in order to appease the Elves. There would still be deep unhappiness, but it would prevent active unrest or even an Uprising." <<include "elveschoice">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $confession is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"With Riegar and Kerne's confession, along with the threat of the consequences of inaction, we have the proper evidence to petition the Autarch for their execution."</div>' 'autogenerated_686437'>><<set $riegarkernefate to "executed">><<set $elves += 30>><<setcompassionate -15>><<setlavinet -3>><<settallys +5>><<setriel +3>><<setblade +1>><<setreputation +5>><<setorder +10>><</link>><</if>> <<if $confession is false>><div class="inactive-item">"With Riegar and Kerne's confession, along with the threat of the consequences of inaction, we have the proper evidence to petition the Autarch for their execution."</div><</if>> <<if $confession is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"We can use their confession to argue for their imprisonment, but I don't think they deserve to die."</div>' 'autogenerated_686438'>><<set $elves -= 30>><<set $riegarkernefate to "arrested">><<settallys -10>><<setlavinet +5>><<setorder -10>><<setcompassionate +5>><<setshery +3>><<settrouble +1>><<setayla +1>><</link>><</if>> <<if $confession is false>><div class="inactive-item">"We can use their confession to argue for their imprisonment, but I don't think they deserve to die."</div><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("elves_financial_reparations")>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"What about financial reparations? We can force the Vice Guard to pay restitution to the Elves. That money could do a lot of good."</div>' 'elves_financial_reparations'>><<set $elves -= 20>><<settallys -5>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($godspeaker > 0) and ($possessed is false) and not (hasVisited("heal_tree_word_power"))>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"What if I were to heal the tree myself?" Use a Word of Power.</div>' 'heal_tree_word_power'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm sorry. I don't think there's anything we can do."</div>' 'autogenerated_686439'>><<setreputation -10>><<settallys -10>><<setlavinet -5>><<sethalek -5>><<setorder -15>><<set $elves -= 30>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $elves >= 80>> <<set $elfjoin to true>> <<set $army += 5>> <<set $resources += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> Lavinet grimaces, having clearly hoped to have avoided this scenario, but Tallys's tight expression relaxes into one of frank relief. Halek merely drums his fingers against the table, expression neutral. Ashaniel doesn't look quite <i>happy</i>, but his gaze is considerably warmer as he looks to you and dips his head. <<nobr>><<if $heritage is "Elf">> It's a gesture of deep respect, coming from someone as experienced and senior to you as him. <</if>><</nobr>> "I am grateful for your understanding," he murmurs. "Tallys'ion was correct to place her faith in you. It gladdens my heart to have someone such as you standing vigil over the safety of the city as well as the needs of the Elven people. Perhaps what they say is true, and your <<nobr>><<if $rank is "Commander">> reign <<else>> arrival <</if>><</nobr>> heralds the beginning of a new chapter for Haven." Before you can say anything else, he rises smoothly from his table—you hardly notice his lamed leg—and steeples his fingers together in the gesture of farewell. "Let it be done, then," he declares. "I must give the news to the proper messengers, so that their telling of this story will seek to mitigate its harm." Then he shakes his head. "I only pray that your Autarch moves quickly, and arrests the perpetrators before they can escape. The Elven people may move slowly, but our anger is quick. It would only take a spark of further indignation to ignite the tinderbox beyond saving." "It is lucky, then, that we need only bloodshed to quench the flames," Lavinet says, her voice ironic but subdued. Ashaniel doesn't even look at her. "Two lives for two hundred years," he says grimly. "When they cut down the tree at last, there will be some who whisper we deserved more." <<include 'riegar_kerne_execution5'>>

<<nobr>><<if $elves >= 80>> <<set $elfjoin to true>> <<set $army += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> Tallys sucks in a sharp breath, and Ashaniel frowns. The former general says slowly, "They murdered a friend to the Elves, a holy symbol of our homeland, and you don't believe they deserve to pay for their crimes?" "They <i>do</i> deserve to pay," you argue, "but not with their lives. They didn't act out of deliberate malicious intent. Their poisoning of Quel-Qanaeon was incidental, an accident—not purposeful. At best, they were lazy and incompetent at their jobs. Do they deserve to <i>die</i> for that?" "Surely spending years rotting in prison, without seeing the light of day and having gruel for every meal, is also a fitting punishment?" Lavinet presses. Ashaniel stares down his nose at her. "<i>Years</i> to your people is a handful of moments to ours," he informs her coldly. "That <i>punishment</i> would seem a mere slap on the wrist to most residents here, and almost a further insult than what has already been done." However, seeing that you're not willing to change your recommendation, he and Tallys exchange glances before the older Elf sighs and says heavily, "I had thought I'd made the consequences of this quite clear. No one will be satisfied with this outcome, and it seems likely that they'll march in the streets, demanding more." "And you won't lift a finger to stop them, I take it," Halek puts in drolly. The temperature in the room drops by several degrees as Ashaniel returns in a chill, soft voice: "As I said, my word is a mere breath of wind in the face of centuries of pain and anger. I could no more stem that tide than could a blade of grass." Tallys puts in anxiously, "What if we didn't tell them what was responsible for Quel-Qanaeon's sickening, Ashaniel'ir? What if we allowed them to simply think that it was a natural death?" The look he visits on her is scalding in its contempt. "And will the tree's killers walk free, then? For when this Riegar and Kerne are arrested, the cause for their arrest <i>will</i> be spoken of, and word will spread, and the ire then will be even worse—and it may turn against <i>us</i> for having protected them. No. The avalanche has already begun, Tallys. We cannot turn it back now." He rises and leaves the table, and you're left to contemplate his words as Ashaniel makes his way out into the night, limping badly on his lamed leg. The dying tree watches you from his front window like a twisted, skeletal hand clawing out of a burial plot before darkness swallows it entirely. <<include 'ashanielwontliftafinger5'>>

Ashaniel regards you heavily, his gaze dark and unblinking. "I was afraid you would say that," he says after a moment, more gravel to his voice than usual. He bows his head for a moment in thought, then rises stiffly, favoring his lamed leg. "Very well," he says. "I thought I'd made it quite clear. The consequences of this will be wide and far-reaching. None of my people will be satisfied with this outcome, and they will soon march in the streets, demanding justice." "And you won't lift a finger to stop them, I take it," Halek puts in dryly. The temperature in the room drops by several degrees as Ashaniel returns in a chill, soft voice: "As I said, my word is a mere breath of wind in the face of centuries of pain and anger. I could no more stem that tide than could a blade of grass." Tallys puts in anxiously, "What if we didn't tell them what was responsible for Quel-Qanaeon's sickening, Ashaniel'ir? What if we allowed them to simply think that it was a natural death?" The look he visits on her is scalding in its contempt. "And will the tree's killers walk free, then? For when you submit your report of your findings, even if only to your own commanders, word of what you found <i>will</i> spread. No. The avalanche has already begun, Tallys. We cannot turn it back now." He turns and leaves the table, limping heavily, and you're left to contemplate his words as Ashaniel makes his way out into the night, the dying tree watching you from his front window like a twisted, skeletal hand clawing its way out of a burial plot before darkness swallows it entirely. <<include 'ashanielwontliftafinger5'>>

Everyone in the room looks at you sharply. <<nobr>><<if ($tallysromance is true) or ($tallyssex is true) or ($tallys >= 75)>> Tallys reaches across the table and places her hand firmly on your forearm, a quelling gesture. "<<c firstname>>, <i>no,</i>" she says softly. "The thought is appreciated, but we know—the effects—such a thing would take on you. I do not believe it's worth it. And you <i>know</i> it's not what <i>They</i> intended." <br><br> You stare at her. "Don't you want to save Quel-Qanaeon?" <br><br> She looks back at you, her green eyes still and arresting. "Not if it harms you." <<if ($lavinet >= 70) or ($lavinetromanceflag >= 10)>> <br><br> Lavinet, looking a bit surprised by Tallys's reaction, leans forward and adds, "<i>You</i> were not the one who committed the crime, <<c firstname>>, so you shouldn't be the one who has to pay. Please. We care about you." <br><br> <<if $tallyslavinetfriends is true>> Tallys nods in resolute agreement; so does Halek. <<else>> You don't miss Tallys's subtle glance and frown as she seems to assess Lavinet in a new light. <</if>> <</if>> <br><br> Ashaniel, eyeing this exchange, puts in calmly, "I thought you said the tree couldn't be saved." <<elseif ($lavinet >= 70) or ($lavinetromanceflag >= 10)>> Lavinet reaches across the table and places her gloved hand lightly on your forearm. "Are you sure that's wise?" she asks quietly. She shifts, and the scent of warm bergamot and powdered rouge reaches your nose. "You were told that—that such a power had another purpose, and that you should reserve it for times of true need. Can we—" She trails off for a moment. "Is it worth the risk?" <<if $lavinetromanceflag >= 10>> She drops her eyes and adds in a quieter voice, "I wouldn't want any harm to befall you." <br><br> You pat her hand reassuringly. "The worst that happens is that I'll take a nap for a few days. That's nothing new." <br><br> She bites her lip, while Halek says in longing tones, "That doesn't sound all that bad, honestly." <</if>> <br><br> Ashaniel, eyeing this exchange, puts in calmly, "I thought you said the tree couldn't be saved." <<elseif $halek >= 70>> "You sure about that?" Halek asks, eyeing you as he leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. "Weren't you, ah, told that you shouldn't be using 'that' unless it was for a specific purpose? And what about the toll it would take on you? Is it worth it for…" He glances covertly at Tallys, who tilts her head in silent agreement. "…this?" <br><br> Ashaniel, eyeing this exchange, puts in calmly, "I thought you said the tree couldn't be saved." <<else>> Ashaniel says, "I thought you said the tree couldn't be saved." <</if>><</nobr>> "Not by… conventional means," you hazard, looking toward him. "There <i>is</i> a way, but it could come at a high cost." <i>To me, and maybe to the world, if I'm wrong about this.</i> Still, the chance to return the Elves' precious heartwood tree to life without having to spill blood, either Riegar and Kerne's through an execution, or in the streets through an Uprising… You can't deny its appeal. Ashaniel clearly finds this sudden solution improbable, probably even suspicious, but he seems too polite to ask further. Thank the gods for Elven courtesy and aversion to intrusive questions. "And what of the people who poisoned Quel-Qanaeon in the first place? If you cure the tree and appease my people, what will happen to them?" You glance at the others. "Well… they'll almost certainly be fired from their positions and publicly disgraced. They'll likely be forced to pay reparations to make up for the damage they caused, as well. But it's doubtful they'll serve real jail time, especially if the Autarchy sees that the tree is healed and that the offending damage no longer… exists. Why would they need to press the issue further if all seemed resolved?" Ashaniel is regarding you with dark, thoughtful eyes. "If you could truly restore Quel-Qanaeon to its former glory, I'm sure that would be more than enough." But should you? You glance around at your companions, all of whom look reserved and anxious about the idea, but also vaguely hopeful; you know they'll trust whatever decision you arrive at. Then you look at the twisted, gnarled form of Quel-Qanaeon out the window, looming in the dark like a skeletal hand clawing its way out of a grave. <<include "use_word_power_options">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'll do it. If you can promise peace in the Elven Quarter, I'll see to the tree right now."</div>' 'autogenerated_686440'>><<set $godspeaker -= 1>><<settallys +5>><<setlavinet +5>><<sethalek +5>><<setblade +1>><<settrouble +1>><<setshery +1>><<setriel +1>><<setchase +1>><<setred +1>><<setayla +1>><<setbriony +1>><<setreputation +10>><<set $elves += 25>><<set $elfjoin to true>><<set $shepherdgold += 500>><<set $resources += 1>><<set $army += 10>><<setorder +15>><<set $landsense to true>><<set $riegarkernefate to "fired">><<setmagic +5>><<setcompassionate +5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"On second thought, maybe it wouldn't be such a great idea."</div>' 'autogenerated_686441'>><<set $elves -= 10>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Looking taken aback by your decisiveness, Ashaniel can only nod. Thus decided, you rise from the table and stride out into the cool, crisp evening air, your companions trailing along in your wake like attendants of an unpredictable monarch, waiting on tenterhooks to see what their sovereign will do next. <<include 'heal_tree_aftermath5'>>

Ashaniel sits back, but otherwise doesn't say a word. Somehow his face looks like it's aged, just slightly. <<include 'elveschoice'>>

<<page_break "Next" "heal_tree_aftermath">>

<<page_break "..." "riegar_kerne_execution">>

<<page_break "Next" "ashanielwontliftafinger">>

<<nobr>><<if ($heritage is "Elf") or ($tallyssex is true) or ($tallysromance is true)>> <<set $tallys -= 5>> <</if>><</nobr>> Tallys and Ashaniel both frown at you. Although they don't raise their voices, it's clear they find your compromise off-the-mark and distasteful, or even offensive. "The Elves place little stock in money," Tallys reminds you. "Many dislike the use of coin and some even still operate according to a bartering system. The promise of gold would not assuage the loss of Quel-Qanaeon, not for them." <<include "elveschoice">>

It takes a while to arrange, but after you send a missive to the Autarch about your findings and recommendations, his sealmaster pens back a curt agreement with your assessment and leaves it at that. A few hours later, you're informed that Valri Riegar and Andrius Kerne have been arrested and thrown into a prison cell of their own garrison, to be mocked and gawked at by their former colleagues. A few weeks after that, they're publicly executed in a square in the Sun Court by a headman's ax: a death reserved for traitors, seditionists, and those seeking to undermine the stability of the Autarchy. Perhaps wisely, the executioner does not read out the full list of their crimes—it would probably cause a stir in the crowd to name '<i>inadvertently poisoning a tree</i>' as the principal reason for their deaths—and instead merely leaves it at 'dereliction of duty' and 'treason.' If the many Elves watching in the audience are irritated by this lack of transparency, they don't show it. When Valri Riegar's head goes flying off the stage in a gout of hot blood and her body ceases its convulsive death-shudders, a wild cry goes up in the crowd. Some sing a hymn to Quel-Qanaeon, while others pray to the gods. The Norm spectators in the crowd seem awed, puzzled, and delighted by display: some even join in with their Elvish neighbors, even if it's clear they're not sure what they're celebrating. You try not to take note of a tall, broad-shouldered man with pale blond hair and a formerly proud mien standing at the front of the crowd, now bent and haggard with grief. Valri Riegar's father turns away as Andrius Kerne is marched up to the headsman's block, pale and shaking; the man catches your glance, then slips away as the axe falls and the crowd erupts into another roar of approval. You wonder what he sees in the crush of people avidly watching the executions: justice, vengeance, bloodthirst… or a mix of all three? <<page_break "Next" "sibellaletter2">>

It takes some time for the unrest to bubble up to the surface. You're able to arrange for Riegar and Kerne's arrest within a few hours: you're told that they're thrown into a jail cell in their own garrison, for their former colleagues to gawk and laugh at them, but it will be some weeks, even months, before a proper trial can be held. Riel informs you that the projected sentence, once they're found guilty, will be six years in Ebonhold Keep, a local prison half a day's ride away. It's not enough for the Elves. Tallys tells you that she's heard vague rumblings of what's going on in the Elven Quarter, but she's found herself boxed out of most deliberations—presumably because it's felt that she can't be trusted not to put a stop to any of it. "As if I could," she muses, her voice muted with its own special kind of misery. "The leaders spearheading the movement are former guerilla fighters, renowned soldiers, elder sages, and war heroes. I could no less dissuade them from their path than Ashaniel could." "The patrols haven't reported anything unusual," Lavinet puts in anxiously. "The streets are still peaceful; nothing's happened so far." "It will," Tallys says tiredly. "The Elves, as always, take their time. But give it a few weeks for their plans to be laid out, for the flames of their anger to be stoked. In a month's time, maybe more, maybe less—this city will erupt. We need to be prepared for it by then." <<page_break "Next" "sibellaletter2">>

Outside, you lay your hands on Quel-Qanaeon's trunk, and immediately you feel the Rot inside of it roil at your touch, moving beneath its surface like black, tarry sap. The demonic corruption already runs so deep. Nothing on earth could purge it from the tree while still keeping it intact and alive—except you, apparently. You take a breath, and it almost feels as if the black taint infecting Quel-Qanaeon pauses at the movement, shrinking away from you as if sensing the radiance waiting in your blood. On your tongue. <<nobr>><<if $lockwood is "new">> You smile grimly to yourself. After creating the new Landsmeet, this feels tame. <<else>> You stand there for a while, thinking. This feels… strange. You've never used the Words to <i>heal</i> something before, to do anything other than <i>destroy</i>. Is it even possible? <br><br> And before, you always spoke them in the heat of the moment, when your blood was firing hot with battle-adrenaline and death was already barreling towards you. You didn't really <i>think</i> about it, you just did. Standing here, now, with Ashaniel and Tallys and Lavinet and Halek all watching you with mute, expectant reverence, you feel… a little off-kilter, a little self-conscious. Like a child who can burst full-tilt into a well-loved song when alone, but once put up on stage and expected to perform, the power and familiarity of their voice withers and fades to a small, difficult, tentative croak. <</if>><</nobr>> You close your eyes and try to draw from the well of Quel-Qanaeon's life force itself. The tree's essence is a faint, subterranean song, a vastly-diminished hum that hasn't yet fallen into complete silence. You feel it reach back towards you, coaxing an answering buzz in your chest. It takes a moment for you to achieve resonance—then the light inside of you connects with the tree's, intertwines, tangles, <i>burns</i>— You take a difficult, ragged breath, feeling as if you're drowning in reverse, as if all the radiance pouring through you is spilling up through your lungs and out of your throat. Your tongue sizzles—steam vents from Quel-Qanaeon's pores as you call out its name, its truename, the very thing that gives it shape and essence and form in this world, the light inside of you diving into it and firing through every root and leaf and vein like the neurons of a vast brain, spreading out through the tree's vast, unfathomable system until you reach for the heart of the earth itself— <i>Oh.</i> Everything goes blank. Dimly, you're aware of hands catching you as you float back, bearing you gently to the ground. You lay full-length against the earth and sink into blessed darkness. <<page_break "Next" "waking_after_healing">>

<<nobr>><<achieve "achieve_landsense">><<notify_achievement "The Song of the Realm" "Obtained the landsense, <br> a connection to the land itself, <br> through reviving Quel-Qanaeon, the great heartwood tree of Haven.">><<set $treefriend to true, $elffriend to true>><</nobr>>You wake up sometime later in the warm, familiar, starched-linen half-light of the Shepherds' infirmary. At your groan of discomfort—your ears ring strangely, and even the air feels too harsh to your sensitized skin—there's a shuffling sound, some alert murmurs of excitement. You squeeze open one watering eyeball and make out the blurry shapes of Halek, slouched in a chair by the corner, and then Tallys and Lavinet, turning to stare at you from their conversation over by the window. Somehow you sense that it's still the same evening as when you lost consciousness. "How long have I been out?" you ask muzzily. Halek checks his timepiece. "About three hours or so," he answers, raising his eyebrows with mild surprise. <<nobr>><<if $godspeaker < 6>> "That's your shortest time yet. Maybe you're getting more used to this: your body is clearly starting to handle it better. We were expecting you to be out for <i>days</i>." <<else>> "We were expecting you to be out for <i>days</i>." <</if>><</nobr>> Tallys makes her way over and lays a cool hand on your forehead, testing your temperature. "How do you feel?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Pretty much how I always do. Tired. A little strange."</div>' 'post_healing_status'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm fine. How's the tree?"</div>' 'post_healing_status'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Awful. Like I could sleep for days."</div>' 'post_healing_status'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Somewhere in your chest, deep in the far reaches of your mind, there's the slightest, most imperceptible tingle… some sort of new and vague awareness you're too tired to look at for the moment. You push it away as you ask, "How did we get back?" "Halek had to carry you," Tallys answers dryly. "After you… did what you did, the whole of the Elven Quarter lit up like a silent aurora. And now Quel-Qanaeon stands <i>renewed</i>, and in full spring bloom. It's as if Black Sun's Rot never touched it. Hundreds came out of their homes to marvel at it, and then they clamored to marvel at <i>you</i>—the one who healed their holy heartwood tree. They're already calling you <<nobr>><<if $heritage is "Elf">> <i>aelveron,</i> champion of the Elves—they're very proud to claim you as their kin and one of their own. And <<else>> <i>eldarien</i>, friend of the Elves, and <</if>><</nobr>> Quel-Qanaeon itself named you <i>aerlinorn</i>, tree-friend, sword of the land, guardian and steward of the realm itself." "Since you were unconscious, we thought it better to leave discretely, and as quickly as possible—not have the crowd gawk at your limp and unconscious body," Lavinet finishes. "So we brought you home. As Halek said, we weren't expecting you to wake for another few days." Then, pausing a moment, she stares at you with a hint of trepidation. "Are… are you sure you're all right?" she asks cautiously. "Did it, um… change anything?" You nod wearily. "The Word of Power is gone, if that's what you're asking," you answer. You can feel its loss, the tiny hollow place and the curious lightness to your soul that always accompanies using your power. But there's that other <i>new thing</i>, too… "The tree is really cured?" Tallys sighs, <<nobr>><<if ($tallyssex is true) or ($tallysromance is true)>> and almost unconsciously, she runs her fingers fondly through your hair. You close your eyes and lean into her touch. <<elseif $tallys >= 75>> almost unconsciously rearranging your blanket and pillows around you. <<else>> rubbing her eyes in a very unusual display of her own weariness. <</if>><</nobr>> "It is," she confirms. "And even if or when word gets out about Riegar and Kerne's treachery, there won't be enough ire for the news to incite a riot. To most other people, all is well again in Haven." "At least for now," Halek says, a bit cynically. "Until the next Vice Guard fucks up, or until the next time a bigot defaces something precious to hurt someone in this city." He glances at you, his grey eyes contemplative and unreadable. "Are you sure it was the right decision, using one of your Words on something like this?" "For peace?" You close your eyes and settle back against your pillows. "It always is." <<page_break "Next" "sibellaletter2">>

<<nobr>><<if $riegarkernefate is "fired">> <<achieve "achieve_elfjoin">><<notify_achievement "The Elves of Ashtown" "Earned the alliance of the Elven people.">> A few days pass. <br><br> Riegar and Kerne are ousted from their positions on the Vice Guard and forced to pay heavy reparations to community funds in the Elven Quarter. Riegar, you hear, is able to scrim up the fees with the help of her wealthier family, but Andrius Kerne's wages will be garnished for the rest of his life. You hear he takes up an inglorious position as a doorkeeper at a brothel. Valri Riegar disappears from the city altogether. <br><br> As for you, you recover more quickly than is typical for your use of a Word of Power, and with your renewed strength comes an increasing awareness of that new sense you've seemingly unlocked. The best way you can describe it, when you confide in the infirmary Healer, is the slight stinging, tingling sensitivity in the back of your nose when your sinuses suddenly open up after a long period of congestion. You can suddenly <i>smell</i> so much more, you try to explain, except this sensation isn't actually tied to scent, it's… it's… just some sort of greater awareness of… the state of the land, or something like that. <br><br> "Yes, but what does that <i>mean</i>?" Elemnestra asks impatiently, tapping her quill against her clipboard. <br><br> You spread your hands in a helpless gesture. "I can just <i>feel</i> it," you say. "It's as if the land itself has a song, or it's more like a hum, the same way you can technically hear the guttering of an oil lamp in the same room, if you focus on it, but after a while, you start to forget it's there. But if it suddenly goes out, you're aware of the absence of it." <br><br> "So, this… this landsense," the Healer echoes slowly, "it means you're tied to the physical earth, somehow? Or is it more the state of the affairs <i>within</i> the land? The condition of the Continent itself?" <br><br> "…Both?" you hazard. <br><br> She huffs, tapping the quill faster. "So if some part of the Continent sickened with blight, five hundred miles away, or if an earthquake was coming, or if a foreign army were to march on some remote village… you'd be able to sense that?" <br><br> You pause, weighing the implications of this. "Something like that," you manage finally. "It hasn't happened yet, so I don't know. All I know is that I can hear the land's song. If something were to disrupt it, or alter it, or make it dissonant… I would know. I don't know <i>how</i> I know that, but that's all I can tell for now." <br><br> Tallys, when you discuss this development with the others, theorizes that your tangling with Quel-Qanaeon's essence imparted its connection to the land to you. "Do you remember when Angant Hainn told us of the World Trees," she asks, "guardians of the entrances where the Elementals hid themselves away to hibernate, and the roots of which connect every forest on this Continent, and lead down to the very heart of the earth itself? Well, it's long been believed that heartwood trees are the saplings of World Trees. Clearly, when you poured yourself into Quel-Qanaeon to heal it—giving it a piece of yourself—you came out of the exchange with a little piece of it in return." <<include "landsense_reaction_choices">> <<elseif $riegarkernefate is "executed">> <<achieve "achieve_elfjoin">><<notify_achievement "The Elves of Ashtown" "Earned the alliance of the Elven people.">> A few days pass. <br><br> Already, recruitment rates from the Elven Quarter have shot up, Lavinet informs you slyly. "We have <i>scores</i> of Elves clamoring to sign up with us after what you did," she tells you, a satisfied curve to her lips and a calculating gleam in her eyes. "You've shown them all what the Shepherds can accomplish, and they're motivated to be a part of the phenomenon themselves. Change the world, and all that. Well, I suppose I'm one to talk—I did the very same thing!" She laughs gaily. "Really, darling, we should be congratulating Blade—his investment in you has paid <i>dividends</i>!" <<if $tallyslavinetfriends is true>> <br><br> "<i>I</i> was part of that decision, too," Tallys reminds her, with a hint of mock austerity. Already it seems they're closer friends than they were before the mission. Halek ironically refers to them as "bosom-pals." <br><br> Lavinet tosses her hair playfully. "Well, I wasn't there, so I can't be expected to know <i>all</i> the details." <</if>> <br><br> It's safe to say you're in a good mood when Riel tracks you down with another letter from Sibella de Vespe. <br><br> <<page_break "Next" "sibella_letter_delivery">> <<else>> You're in the rectory, eating breakfast, when Riel tracks you down with another letter from Sibella de Vespe. <br><br> <<page_break "Next" "sibella_letter_delivery">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"So, what, I'm <i>part tree</i> now?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686442'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"That's amazing!"</div>' 'autogenerated_686443'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"That tracks, I suppose. It's not as if my life could get much stranger."</div>' 'autogenerated_686444'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

She smiles a little. "Not part tree," she admonishes. "Just… able to hear what it hears. It's opened your senses to the wider world, that's all." <<include 'landsense_conclusion'>>

She smiles a little. "I agree. You are able to hear what the ancient heartwood tree hears: the song of the land itself. It's an amazing gift, and one I don't believe a mortal has possessed for hundreds, if not thousands, of years." "But gods did, surely," Halek says shrewdly. Tallys laughs a secret-sounding kind of laugh. She's been smiling more, these days. "You would have to ask them," she answers. "But I suppose it had to come from <i>somewhere</i>." <<include 'landsense_conclusion'>>

Tallys smiles a little. "It is a gift," she admonishes. "You are able to hear what the ancient heartwood tree hears: the song of the land itself. It's an amazing gift, and one I don't believe a mortal has possessed for hundreds, if not thousands, of years." "But gods did, surely," Halek says shrewdly. Tallys laughs a secret-sounding kind of laugh. "You would have to ask them," she answers. "But I suppose it had to come from <i>somewhere</i>." <<include 'landsense_conclusion'>>

<<page_break "Next" "landsense_recruitment">>

As for the Elves, recruitment rates from the Elven Quarter have already shot up, Lavinet informs you slyly. "We have <i>scores</i> of young Elven warriors and healers clamoring to sign up with us after what you did," she tells you, a satisfied curve to her lips and an excited, calculating gleam in her eyes. "It's honestly unprecedented! You've shown them all what the Shepherds can accomplish, and they're motivated to be a part of the phenomenon themselves. Change the world, and all that. Well, I suppose I'm one to talk—I did the very same thing!" She laughs gaily. "Really, darling, we should be congratulating Blade—his investment in you has paid <i>dividends</i>!" <<nobr>><<if $tallyslavinetfriends is true>> <br><br> "<i>I</i> was part of that decision, too," Tallys reminds her, with a hint of mock austerity. Already it seems they're closer friends than they were before the mission. Halek ironically refers to them as "bosom-pals." <br><br> Lavinet tosses her hair playfully. "Well, I wasn't there, so I can't be expected to know <i>all</i> the details." <</if>><</nobr>> It's safe to say you're in a good mood when Riel tracks you down with another letter from Sibella de Vespe a few days later. <<include "sibella_letter_delivery">>

<i>To <<c rank>> <<c surname>>,</i> <i>Word of what transpired in the Elven Quarter this past sennight has reached our ears, and we find ourselves quite intrigued by a case that's left two previously-upstanding Vice Guards behind bars. This incident falls under our purview as the Sun Court's High Court Mystic, and it is our duty to hear the details from a magic-user such as yourself.</i> <i>As it happens, our calendar is clear of appointments tomorrow morning. Report to our offices at ten daybell. Come alone.</i> <i>Sibella de Vespe</i> <i>High Court Mystic</i>

<i>To <<c rank>> <<c surname>>,</i> <i>Word of what transpired in the Elven Quarter this past sennight has reached our ears, and we find ourselves saddened to hear of an incident that lead to the deaths of two previously-upstanding Vice Guards. This case falls under our purview as the Sun Court's High Court Mystic, and it is our duty to hear the details from a magic-user such as yourself.</i> <i>As it happens, our calendar is clear of appointments tomorrow morning. Report to our offices at ten daybell. Come alone.</i> <i>Sibella de Vespe</i> <i>High Court Mystic</i>

<i>To <<c rank>> <<c surname>>,</i> <i>Word of what transpired in the Elven Quarter this past sennight has reached our ears, and we find ourselves intrigued to hear of the feat of magic you worked, as we have never heard of its like before. As all great works of magic in the Autarchy fall under our purview as the Sun Court's High Court Mystic, it is our duty to hear the details of your personal account.</i> <i>As it happens, our calendar is clear of appointments tomorrow morning. Report to our offices at ten daybell. Come alone.</i> <i>Sibella de Vespe</i> <i>High Court Mystic</i>

<i>To <<c rank>> <<c surname>>,</i> <i>Word of what transpired in the Elven Quarter this past sennight has reached our ears, and we find ourselves saddened to hear of these strange events. This case falls under our purview as the Sun Court's High Court Mystic, and it is our duty to hear the details from a magic-user such as yourself.</i> <i>As it happens, our calendar is clear of appointments tomorrow morning. Report to our offices at ten daybell. Come alone.</i> <i>Sibella de Vespe</i> <i>High Court Mystic</i>

"I already read it," the former merchant leader informs you crisply, sliding the envelope towards you. You stare up at him, a piece of buttered toast halfway in your mouth. Briony and Lavinet, who were enjoying their meals alongside you, also swivel their heads to stare. "Think of it less as an invasion of your privacy and more of a security measure—and my willingness to take whatever curse was meant for you, if it came to that. But I had it scanned: it's clean." You eye him warily as you set your toast down and wipe your greasy fingers on a cloth napkin. Riel's eyes are narrowed, his nostrils thinned and his lip curled in displeasure. He looks distinctly unsettled… no, <i>annoyed</i>. It's the look he gets when he knows someone is trying to get the best of him, and he feels confounded and incensed by their arrogance. "She's watching us," he bites, catching your look and leaning forward so that he won't be overheard (small chance of that, in the racket and din of a thousand officers enthusiastically enjoying breakfast). "She must know that Blade is away on a mission, and that many of our inner circle are similarly preoccupied: Chase and Trouble in Ambryn, Red and his team headed to Leore, Ayla accompanying that client to Brunen, Halek and Tallys escorting Shery south. She wants us on the back foot and caught unawares, so that we have to scramble to meet her at a disadvantage." "What are you <i>talking</i> about?" Briony asks loudly. You shake the heavy, expensive parchment free from its glittering envelope—a lurid purple seal, both opulent and poisonous, bears a snake-like S with the backdrop the Autarchy's official sun on the envelope's back—before reading the brief letter within: <<nobr>><<if $riegarkernefate is "arrested">> <<set $loadPassage to Story.get("sibellaarrestedletter").text;>> <<letter_holder "formal" $loadPassage>> <<elseif $riegarkernefate is "executed">> <<set $loadPassage to Story.get("sibellaexecutedletter").text;>> <<letter_holder "formal" $loadPassage>> <<elseif $riegarkernefate is "fired">> <<set $loadPassage to Story.get("sibellafiredletter").text;>> <<letter_holder "formal" $loadPassage>> <<else>> <<set $loadPassage to Story.get("sibellaelseletter").text;>> <<letter_holder "formal" $loadPassage>> <</if>><</nobr>> You scan the letter again, trying to process it, and the last line leaps out at you like a dark slash. <b><i>Come alone.</i></b> <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Finish your piece of toast calmly.</div>' 'sibella_reaction_end'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Hang your head.</div>' 'sibella_reaction_end'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Groan.</div>' 'sibella_reaction_end'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Ball up the letter, crumpling it viciously.</div>' 'sibella_reaction_end'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Stare blankly.</div>' 'sibella_reaction_end'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Laugh a little wildly.</div>' 'sibella_reaction_end'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"Fuck." <<page_break "End Chapter" "endchapter85screen">>

<div class="box"><span class="endchaptersummary"> <center><span class="heading">Mission Summary</span></center> <br> <span class="bulleticon"><span class="fas fa-chevron-right"></span></span>&emsp; You were alerted by the Elves in the Elven Quarter that their sacred heartwood tree, Qael-Qanaeon, had fallen ill with a mysterious blight. After some investigation, you were able to uncover the true source of the tree's sickness: a buried cache of Black Sun, leftovers of the drug created by the Faceless Lord Buubas last year. <br><br><span class="bulleticon"><span class="fas fa-chevron-right"></span></span>&emsp; You decided to visited the local Vice Guard garrison to try and uncover evidence of who might be responsible for the buried cache. <<if $staycaine is true>>To your surprise, this led you to cross paths with Alec Cross, once the guard who impeded your entry to Haven so long ago, now a captain of the garrison itself. <<if $kissguard is true>> Even more awkwardly, he was the man whom you kissed and propositioned in order to secure your entrance into the city. And he definitely remembered you. <</if>> Reluctantly, he allowed you to begin sorting through patrol reports in your attempt to hunt down your culprit. <<else>> Alec Cross, a captain of the garrison, allowed you to begin sorting through patrol reports in your attempt to hunt down the culprit. <</if>> <br><br><span class="bulleticon"><span class="fas fa-chevron-right"></span></span>&emsp; You came face-to-face with Valri Riegar and Andrius Kerne, the two Vice Guards responsible for patrolling the Elven Quarter beat. When Cross alerted you to the fact that these same guards had also been responsible for disposing of a small supply of Black Sun, the pieces began to fall into place... but you still needed to prove that they were the ones who actually poisoned the heartwood tree. This required a full confession. <br><br><span class="bulleticon"><span class="fas fa-chevron-right"></span></span>&emsp; <<if $confession is true>>In the end, you were able to obtain your confession, proving beyond a shadow of a doubt that Riegar and Kerne were responsible for Qael-Qanaeon's sickness. Their motives were more out of laziness and incompetence than deliberate malice, but that hardly affected your true dilemma: the Elves of Ashtown would revolt if they uncovered the shocking truth behind the destruction of their sacred tree. <<else>> Unfortunately, however, you were unable to obtain a confession from either officer. You were then left to try and prevent an all-out Uprising from breaking out and drowning the city in violence. <</if>> <br><br><span class="bulleticon"><span class="fas fa-chevron-right"></span></span>&emsp; <<if $riegarkernefate is "fired">>In the end, you chose to use a Word of Power to heal the tree yourself, preventing the Elves' wrath from being unleashed on Haven. Qael-Qanaeon has been saved, the Elves have pledged their allegiance to you, and you have been granted a unique connection to the land itself, adding to your growing arsenal of uncanny gifts and abilities. <<elseif $riegarkernefate is "executed">>In the end, you agreed to support the Elves' bid to have Riegar and Kerne executed for their crimes, satisfying the Elves' desire for revenge and preventing further bloodshed. <<elseif $riegarkernefate is "arrested">> You negotiated to have Riegar and Kerne arrested for their crimes rather than executed, but unfortunately, that wasn't enough to satisfy the Elves' desire for vengeance. Even now, unrest is stirring throughout the city. <<else>> In the end, you chose to do nothing, and as a result, deep unrest is beginning to bubble up through the city. It's only a matter of time before the pressure builds to the point of exploding. <</if>> <br><br><span class="bulleticon"><span class="fas fa-chevron-right"></span></span>&emsp; <<if $tallyslavinetfriends is true>> You were also able to heal the divide between Lavinet and Tallys, encouraging them to work towards mutual respect and friendship. <<else>> You were also not able to heal the divide between Tallys and Lavinet, leaving the possibility of friendship between them vanishingly unlikely. <</if>> </span><span class="endchaptersummary2"></span></div> <br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "endchapter85levelup">> <<set $health to 100>> <<if $rank is "Commander">><<set $gold += 200>><<else>><<set $gold += 100>><</if>> <<set $part to 9>> <</link>></center>

<<unset $checkqq1>> <<unset $toldaboutqq>> <<unset $telltallys>> <<unset $qqinvestigate>> <<unset $askthelot>> <<unset $houndlot>> <<unset $seducecross>> <<unset $childrenhalek>> <<unset $turnriegar>> <<unset $turnkerne>> <<unset $kernebreak>> <<unset $riegarbreak>> <<unset $discrepancydemon>> <<unset $blacksundiscrepancy>> <<unset $suspiciousmage>> <<unset $kernereason>> <<unset $riegarreason>> <<unset $followtallys>> <div class="box"><span class="column-icon"><span class="endchaptericon"><i class="fas fa-coins"></i></span></span><span class="column-2"><span class="heading">Gold</span><br><<if $rank is "Commander">>You gained 200 deucalions as part of your Shepherd's pay. <<else>>You gained 100 deucalions as part of your Shepherd's pay.<</if>></span></div> <div class="box"><span class="column-icon"><span class="endchaptericon"><i class="fas fa-first-aid"></i></span></span><span class="column-2"><span class="heading">Health</span><br>Your health has been fully restored.</span></div> <<page_break "Proceed to Next Chapter" "startchapter9">>

This is the end of the current alpha build. It is recommended that you make a save point here so you can pick up where you left off in the next update. If you'd like to leave feedback or discuss this content, please feel free to join the Discord's alpha build channel or leave a comment on Patreon! Thank you for reading!

<<set $godz to random(1,2)>><center><div class="dot"> <<timed 1s t8n>> ... <<next>>... <<next>>... <</timed>><span class="next">[[Next|interludebegins]]</span></div></center> <<timed 5s>><<goto "interludebegins">><</timed>>

The god's shattered body lies at your feet. The black ichor of his blood forms a strange oil slick around your boots. His flesh has begun to disintegrate, evaporating in little curls of acrid smoke. Mute, the dying god stares up at you without expression. "Strike him down," a voice says from behind you. Strangely, you find that you can't turn your head to look; the speaker has a surreal, metallic quality to their voice, as if their words are formed by the blaring of a dozen unearthly trumpets, all at once. There could even be multiple speakers, for all you know. You hesitate, torn between turning to confront your invisible watcher and obeying their steely command. "Strike him down," the voice—or multitude of voices—urges again. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Wait... I\'ve seen this before..."' 'atintyour'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Who are you? What is this?"' 'atintyour'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I know this is a dream."' 'atintyour'>><</link>></li> <<if $traumatized gte 3>><li><<link '"No, no, not again, wake up, <i>wake up</i>."' 'atintyour'>><</link>></li><</if>> </ul>

At your feet, Tapyt makes a strangled, choking sound, something caught between a laugh and a gurgle. You suddenly remember what happens next: you've seen this scene before. Next you'll decide to banish him to Hael, even though doing so will cost you everything, will weaken you so greatly that you'll be forced to leave this realm, interacting with it hitherto only in dreams and proxies. You'll be trapped in a kind of forced slumber, a passive hibernation to preserve the last of your strength… though so will he. You've fought each other to an utter standstill. Which would make you, or the many-toned voice behind you… <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"The One-God."' 'whenintyou'>><<set $otg to "god">><<if $belief is "oldfaith">><<fair_plus "$faith" +10>><<elseif $belief is "one-god">><<fair_plus "$faith" +10>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"The old gods."' 'whenintyou'>><<set $otg to "gods">><<if $belief is "oldfaith">><<fair_plus "$faith" +10>><<elseif $belief is "one-god">><<fair_plus "$faith" +10>><</if>><</link>></li> </ul>

When you say it out loud, your voice is calm and even: this is, after all, only a dream. A random, senseless motley that your brain has thrown together without concern for reality. It might as well be a scene out of a play. Though when exactly did you fall asleep? "We go by many names, little <i>kithma</i>," the voice behind you says. "One-God, old gods, Uusae M'ri, Kenet and Melein, Kyprioth and Mynos and Zestra. We are vast and infinite: we are the hands that wrote the story, we are the voice that sang the song. We have many faces and are named by many peoples, but all refer to the same <i>us</i>." You shake your head slowly. "But how can that be? The One-God is one being, and old gods are many." "Both are true," says the voice. "Just as a shaft of sunlight pierces a crystal to create a multitude of colors, so too are we one and the same. The color you see—the god or gods that are present in your life, that watch over you and guide you and shape your world—is merely one particular reflection of that light." <<nobr>><<if $belief is "oldfaith">> The voice pauses, then adds, "Though you always were a little closer to the truth than others." There's a strange note of irony, almost humor, to the way it speaks; then it continues. <<include "oldgodsspiel">> <<elseif $belief is "one-god">> The voice pauses, then adds, "Though you always were a little closer to the truth than others." There's a strange note of irony, almost humor, to the way it speaks; then it continues. <<include "onegodspiel">> <<else>> <<if $godz is 1>> <<include "onegodspiel">> <<else>> <<include "oldgodsspiel">> <</if>> <</if>><</nobr>>

"We most often walked your world as separate beings with different forms. In the days of old we took the shape of your people, visited with them, spoke to them in the forms and voices they knew best. But just as many droplets of water combine and form a single drop, and are again split apart, they are still of the same essence and substance: they are all water, still identical in composition, whether they are one or many. Thus, Narthax and Althea and Nante can move apart: but when together, they still form a single whole. The old gods and the One-God are the same being, only known and defined by the different minds beholding us. When your Norm people came into power, we came to their kithma—what you call saints—as one being, because it was a comfort to them. Because it was what they wanted. But we appeared as the old gods to the world first." <<include "youintglance">>

"In the beginning, we were One. We are still One. The old gods—what you think of as old gods—are reflections of us, named and recognized by different peoples because those forms were a comfort to them, something they could recognize and understand. But those different forms were not separate from us. When a drop of water is split into ten, it is still water; and when those droplets come together again, they re-form seamlessly into the single whole, without division or difference. When you sweat, when you cry, are not those things a part of you, an emanation of you? What about your blood, your lungs, your heart? You may break them down into separate components and name them separately, but they are all still a part of <i>you</i>, united in you. The gods are as much a part of me as your blood is to you. You cannot separate Narthax from me without cutting out my lungs, my arm, my throat, my eyes. We have separate named pieces, but we are all still united as One. The old gods are simply a way for the mortal mind to comprehend the vast and infinite One." <<include "youintglance">>

You glance down at the mute, staring god bleeding out at your feet. "What about Tapyt?" The voice vibrates with a dangerous, deadly contempt. "In just the way your one same body can betray you, Tapyt betrayed us. When a cancerous tumor grows within your brain, it is still a part of you, no? Composed of your flesh, your own cells? It is a perversion of you, yes, a corruption, but a part of the whole just the same. It comes from within you just as much as your untainted blood does. And when you bleed, or when you cut out the tumor, it is still of your essence, even when it has left your body." It stops talking for a moment, and when the voice speaks again, it is with such an acrid, bitter sting that it makes your skull vibrate and your eyes prick with tears. "And sometimes cutting out the cancer weakens you so badly that you wonder if it would have been better to allow it to fester, after all. Even if it ended up destroying you both." You and the voice are silent for a moment. Around you, the strange scene begins to dissolve in watery streaks of color and curls and wisps of smoke. Tapyt fades away into nothing. <i>Just a memory</i>, something in you whispers. <i>Just a fragmented remnant of the past</i>. Finally, the voice behind you speaks again, as you stare out into a white, blank horizon. Its blaring, metallic tone—almost too harsh and bright for you to bear—is even more caustic now. "The only clever thing Tapyt Nightwalker ever did was tie his life-force to his children's," it says. "Although we banished him, and he slept in that dark Void, he is still nourished by the destruction and madness his children inflict on your world; he feeds on the seeds of chaos they sow. And so he grows a little stronger, day by day, century by century, millennia by millennia. And soon he will be strong enough to finally stir from his slumber." "And you won't?" you ask the voice. <<nobr>><<if $belief is "oldfaith">> "I thought the old gods were strengthened by mortals' belief and worship, the same as Tapyt was strengthened by the Endarkened's wickedness." <<elseif $belief is "one-god">> "The Church says that the One-God is strengthened by Xer followers' worship and prayer." <<else>> "Surely you must be nourished by the actions of the Children of Light as well, if you created them the same way he created the Endarkened?" <</if>><</nobr>> "Once, that was true," the voice answers. "And if left only to our sleep, perhaps one day we could recover our strength and awaken again. But belief in us wanes, while the devotion of his Endarkened is assured—and we have exhausted ourselves in our silent war against the Nightwalker. A thousand times, he has thrown open the gates of Hael. And a thousand times, we have stemmed the tides, rewound the sun, and turned the hourglass over again. But we are weakening, and soon there will be nothing left of us except you." Your heart skips a beat; you are suspended in bright, terrible nothing. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>"Me?"</span></div></div>' "yesintyou">><</link>></center>

"Yes, you," the voice says—and now it sounds terribly weary. "Our one remaining kithma, the last true light of the world. In you we have breathed the last of our godly essence, infused you with a power that no mortal can begin to comprehend—and even then, it is meager and diminished, compared to what we once were. But you are the vessel for the scarce scattered seeds of our strength, our power… and the last of our hope." Your mouth has gone as dry as a scorched desert; your mind is a vast, thundering blankness. "The Words of Power," you manage, your voice as thin as parchment. "My thirteenth birthday—the figure that appeared in my room. That was you." The voice doesn't say anything, but it doesn't need to: you already feel the truth of it in your bones. "But… why?" you croak. <i>Why me? Why then? Why them? <b>Why?</b></i> A multitude of voices meets the multitude of questions clamoring for attention in your head, as scattered and confusing as if someone had flung open a window in your mind. <i>We were once powerful beyond belief,</i> one voice murmurs, caught halfway into conversation with someone else, <i>but now we must rely on human instruments to shape the world.</i> <<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="gradient"><span class="glitchy" data-text="So we crossed some paths">So we crossed some paths</span></span><<else>><span class="gradient">So we crossed some paths </span><</if>> <<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="gradient"><span class="glitchy" data-text="that would not have crossed,">that would not have crossed,</span></span><<else>><span class="gradient">that would not have crossed,</span><</if>> <<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="gradient"><span class="glitchy" data-text="and moments spilled from our hands">and moments spilled from our hands</span></span><<else>><span class="gradient">and moments spilled from our hands</span><</if>> <<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="gradient"><span class="glitchy" data-text="like dice over the living world.">like dice over the living world.</span></span><<else>><span class="gradient">like dice over the living world.</span><</if>> <i>The gods have no hands in this world but ours. If we fail them, where then can they turn?</i> <<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="drunk"><span class="gradient">Weaver, dreamer, painter, singer…</span></span><<else>><span class="gradient">Weaver, dreamer, painter, singer…</span><</if>> "Tapyt plans to destroy the world," the voice says, once your head has stopped reverberating like a struck gong. "But he is currently so weak that he cannot manifest on your plane anymore, just the same as us. To circumvent his banishment, he created a mortal vessel, a weapon, and poured a portion of his soul into it. The Archdemon, leader of his hordes and legions. He has smuggled that vessel, that puppet, onto your plane and plans to use it to break open the gates between worlds, allowing the Endarkened to invade the world of Blest once again. Once they have done so, that demon-vessel will glut on the apocalypse they create, and Tapyt will finally be strong enough to awaken, assume his vessel's true form, and bring eternal darkness to your world, just as he has always wished." You feel the heat of the <<nobr>><<if $otg is "god">> god's <<else>> gods' <</if>><</nobr>> regard on the back of your neck. "But until then, his vessel must be contained within a mortal form that can hide itself from others. Until it achieves its purposes, it is as vulnerable and corporeal as you are. So it must wait, in patience and in stealth, until its shadow-limbs, those things you call the Faceless Lords, can work their wickedness and feed it enough power to break open the gates of Hael from your side of the worldwalls. Only then will the rest of its armies be able to invade, and it can attain its true form. What you have seen these past few years has simply been a scouting party, a mere smattering of foot soldiers. What awaits you is a flood of horror untold, and at the forefront of it is all is the Archdemon. Tapyt's child, his key and his herald, and a final weapon of the Endarkened to bring about the fall of mankind." <<nobr>><<if $facelesslordsdead is 5>> "But I destroyed the Faceless Lords," you begin. "They're all dead." <<else>> "But we've fought off the Faceless Lords," you begin. "Quiial, Clochus…" <</if>><</nobr>> "Yes, but it is not enough," the voice tells you, its tone cutting and rising in urgency now. "Tapyt's vessel must be exterminated. It is the head of the beast: the Faceless Lords were only its limbs. Only when the vessel is destroyed will the god himself finally be eradicated forever." You blink hard, processing this. "All right, then if Tapyt has a vessel, then… I'm yours?" You were given the Words of Power, it seems, to counter this creation of Tapyt's and thwart it. <i>That's why the voice kept telling me to save the Words</i>, you think. You're struck by the memory of a snowy night, camping with Blade and Chase in a dark and silent forest while you wrestled with strange and confusing dreams. <i>It said that I would need at least one to face <b>him</b>.</i> "Yes, child," the voice replies. "We dreamed you into existence; we created you to stand against this dark champion of Tapyt's. You are our kithma, our light-bringer, our Godchild, our speaker, just as he has his Darkchild, his demonic herald, the approach of the storm that makes all birds fall quiet, the great silencer who will draw endless shadow over the face of the world." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "thenintwho">><</link>></center>

/* new game plus achievement below: don't forget! */ "Then… who are my biological parents?" you ask. "I… I was found abandoned on a doorstep, so who—" "You have none," the voice answers, without pity or impatience. "Not in the way you think. We created you from aether and dream, just as we created the first Elves and Ket and Drakes and Dwarves and Faerie. We crafted you from light and air, fire and water and earth—but you are as much flesh and bone and as real as any other Child of Light. We simply did not beget you through coupling." Your stomach gives a nauseous lurch. <i>This is a dream, this is only a dream, it's nonsense</i>. But because you can't help yourself, you say: "But then why make me—am I truly a Mage, then? And why have me raised in <<nobr>><<if $heritage is "Elf">> Vale?" <<elseif $heritage is "Hunter">> Maj?" <<elseif $heritage is "Ket">> Drummond's Point?" <<else>> Westwood?" <</if>><</nobr>> There is a long, long silence at this. You have the feeling of—you're not sure if it's just in your imagination, but it almost feels as if you're merging with the consciousness you're speaking to, learning its thought patterns, and you sense a fierce, silent feeling of conflict and debate within it before it speaks again. Finally it says: "You are a Mage, but you are also more than a Mage. You are a Child of Light, with the soul of a god and the flesh and blood of all children that we have ever dreamed of. We simply gave you the appearance and powers of a Mage because it worked best." "'Worked best'?" you echo. "What do you mean?" Another long silence. Then: "The first time, we did not know of Tapyt's plans. He created his vessel and threw open the gates of Hael, and the world was plunged into darkness. But we mustered the last of our strength, and we rewove the threads of time. We made the tapestry anew. <i>We chose a different path</i>." Your breath catches in your lungs. "You're saying you… you reset… you reset the <i>world</i>? You changed history itself?" "Not by much," the voice answers wearily. "We could not go very far. But enough to forge a weapon that could counter his. Enough to shift a single rock and force the stream of time a different way." It falls quiet for a moment, brooding and resentful. "But Tapyt has been cunning and careful. He has laid his plans meticulously, for eons upon eons, and he has turned all his thoughts on how to move against us. We have made you a thousand times, little <i>kithma</i>. And each time we have set you against him, his forces have found you, or you have died before you could face him, or you have faltered in your task, or a thousand other things have gone awry." Silence. You don't think you could speak, even if you wanted to. You're not sure you'll be able to speak ever again. "In some threads, you were a Ket," the voice continues, factual and pitiless. "In others, you were an Elf. In still others—an Asteriae, a Changeling. Some versions of you were born in Haven; some in the far North. In those times, you were always killed before you could even reach adolescence. But when we placed you farther away, you could never make it in time to stop the invasion before it happened. It was only as a Mage that you have been able to get as far as you have—perhaps because your other powers could better go unnoticed, or perhaps some other infinitesimal variable is at play. But it is as a Mage that you have achieved the best results. And in <<nobr>><<if $heritage is "Elf">> Vale, <<elseif $heritage is "Hunter">> Maj, <<elseif $heritage is "Ket">> Drummond's Point, <<else>> Westwood, <</if>><</nobr>> it was only there that you remained safely hidden from Tapyt's agents until you were strong enough to go your own way. You won't understand, but this has been the only way that has worked. We have been remaking you and shifting your paths, over and over, to keep you from Tapyt's evil—to shield you so you could grow powerful enough to defeat him. <<nobr>><<if recall ("achieve_newgameplus")>> We have been saving and rewriting you since we first dreamed you into being. We have even spoken like this before." The voice pauses. <<else>> We have been saving and rewriting you since we first dreamed you into being." The voice pauses. <</if>><</nobr>> "But we are finally coming to the end of our strength. You <i>must</i> prevail against him." <<include "godconvo1">>

<ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'A flicker of anger sparks in your gut. "Then what about my village? Why didn\'t you reweave the threads to save them? Surely you didn\'t intend for <i>that</i> to happen?"' 'aofintflicker'>><<setcourage +1>><<setloyal -5>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'You hug yourself. "So everything I\'ve done in life has been predestined? Did I ever even have any free will of my own?"' 'youinthug'>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'You frown thoughtfully. "If what you say is true, and I have the soul of a god, then does that mean I could use things other than magic or the Words of Power? Could I use arma or grace?"' 'youintfrown'>><<setintelligence +2>><<setcunning +2>><<set $godzpowers to true>><</link>></li> <<if not hasVisited("youintgasp")>><li><<link 'You gasp in realization. "Is that why the demons call me Brightburner?"' 'youintgasp'>><<setintelligence +2>><</link>></li><</if>> </ul>

The voice is silent, and for a moment you think the <<nobr>><<if $otg is "gods">> $otg have <<else>> $otg has <</if>><</nobr>> vanished entirely. Then the voice says, heavily, "Child. We hid you away in that village because it was one of the places that the vessel never came across you as a youngling. But the moment you reached adulthood, your powers awoke, and there was nothing we could do to shield you from Tapyt's gaze any longer. Wherever you would have been, they would have found you, and they would have killed everyone there without a thought. We have seen it happen, time and time again." "But they <i>didn't</i> kill everyone, did they?" you bite back. "<i>I</i> did. With the Word of Power <i>you</i> gave me!" "You had to defend yourself," the voice cautions. "And you had to learn to wield the power that you were blessed with. In the threads where you did not learn that weight, or in the pathways where you did not lose your home, you always failed—" A kind of scream tears out of you then, a howl of pure fury and pain. "So you allowed it to happen because it was <i>good for me</i>?" you rage. "You consigned me to this—to this predetermined path because you thought it would forge me into the tool <i>you</i> needed?" The blood thumps like a war drum inside your temples. "I'm not your child! I'm not even your champion; I'm your <i>weapon</i>. I'm just a tool for you to—to sharpen and adjust as you see fit. I'm nothing more than a means to an end—you made me just to suffer whatever trials you dreamed up so you could shape me however you liked!" Your voice abruptly dies into a ragged sob. "I was <i>happy</i> there," you whisper finally, hot acid scalding your eyes. "Those people were my <i>family</i>." The being holds you arrested, fixed in the caustic white spotlight of its regard, even though you still can't turn to face it. It's like knowing that looking directly at the sun will blind you, even if you can still feel and perceive the heat of its presence. Finally it says, its tone soft: "We have seen the threads where you stayed with them, where they were able to live untroubled. You were happy. For a time. And then you were all destroyed when the worldwalls broke, when the demons burst through and covered the land in blood and flame—and you all died in utmost agony and terror. And so did the rest of the world." Finally, its gaze withdraws from you, as if it has been assessing you and has been left wanting. "We would not weave the threads this way, if any other path had led to victory. And we do not invent anything in your life just to burden and torment you: <i>that</i> has always been the doing of Tapyt. We can only turn over the hourglass and give you another chance if you fail in your task. But in this life, you have not. So we cannot unmake your progress now." You're simply left there, shaking and panting. This is too much, too much to comprehend, too much to <i>bear</i>—your brain feels like a cup filled to overflowing. <<include "sointwhat">>

"Make no mistake: everything you have done in this lifetime and all others has been of your own accord," the voice answers. "We have only been there to grant you another chance when you faltered, or when you were cut down before you could reach your true potential. We never knew what outcome any one path would lead to, or whether you were even truly capable of defeating Tapyt. We could only rearrange the chess pieces in a different pattern and hope that the next time would work. But we cannot force you to do what you don't want. And if you had no free will at all—if you were nothing more than a mindless automaton—we would have simply steered you into slaying the Nightwalker and assuring our own victory long ago. No. We can only bequeath these gifts upon you and try to make the conditions of the field a little more balanced in your favor. But the rest is left to you." You take a deep breath. <<include "sointwhat">>

The voice pauses, as if surprised by the track of your thoughts. "Perhaps someday," it acknowledges after a moment. "You may have the potential to unlock your other latent natures, for your composition is the foundation of all the Children of Light. Your light is the source from which all other forms emanate. Potential is your very lifeblood; infinity is contained in your soul. As a Godchild, if you were to live long enough, you could hold the ability to eventually unlock any number of powers from within yourself, the same way a master key could undo any lock. You could make yourself into a Ket, or an Elf, or at least learn to use their powers, for you are partly a god and their forms are contained in your likeness and essence. But it would take hundreds of years for you to learn, and you do not have that long—and nor do you have that power to spare, for you will need it in your fight against Tapyt." You raise your chin. <<include "sointwhat">>

"Yes, for this version of you was made in Althea Brightburner's image, just as you have been made in the likeness of Tholjass and Narthax and Bes before her," the voice answers calmly. <<nobr>><<if $facelesslordsdead is 5>> "Though it seems you destroyed the only demons powerful and ancient enough to realize the truth about you, and before they had time to warn their lord and master. For now, you've seemed to escape his notice. Just another reason why this thread has not been cut and redone." <<else>> "Though only the Faceless Lords were powerful and ancient enough to recognize you for what you were, and it remains to be seen whether they had time to tell their lord and master. Even demons can work against each other, wreathed in treachery for one reason or another: it is in their nature. Or perhaps he does know, but is biding his time. He has done that before, too." <</if>><</nobr>> You shake your head. <<include "godconvo1">>

"So what must I do to find him? If you've seen this play out over and over, you must know who the vessel is?" "No," the voice answers bitterly, but it seems an echo to you suddenly, something distorted and weak. "Our minds are still trapped in slumber: we perceive the world we made only dimly, and as we diminish, our sight grows even dimmer. And each time we reweave the tapestry and turn the hourglass ayward, Tapyt employs some new trick to deceive us. In some threads, we have pursued false decoys and wrong paths: who the vessel was in one timeline was someone else in the next. We cannot trust our own senses, and the tangle of time and space begins to ensnare us. Soon we will not have enough strength to control it at all, and will sink beneath its weight forever." <i>What they're doing is killing them</i>, you realize silently. <i>Or they were already dying, and this is only accelerating the process</i>. "The advent of the vessel is nigh," the voice continues softly. "We feel its power swelling, like a storm cloud threatening to overtake the sun. You do not have to concern yourself with finding it, for your fates are intertwined and your paths are woven together as tightly as braided steel: you cannot avoid it any more than a flame can repel a moth. Save the energy you would waste on hunting it, and instead gather the strength and mettle you'll need for the inevitable." "And how am I supposed to do that?" you ask, feeling suddenly very small and helpless, like a supplicating child asking a parent for an answer they're certain they must know. "How am I supposed to succeed when all the past versions of me couldn't?" "You must forge your own way forward from here," the voice answers, now almost too quiet to hear. "We have become too weak to speak to you thus, and the luminal beacon has been broken at last. From here, your path is yours to make. Have faith, child. Not even <<nobr>><<if $otg is "gods">> the gods can see the ends of all roads." <<else>> a god can see the end of all roads." <</if>><</nobr>> <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"How am I supposed to have faith when I\'ve supposedly failed so many times before?"' 'theintvoice'>><<fair_plus "$faith" -10>><<setloyal -5>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Don\'t tell me to have faith. I didn\'t ask for this! I never asked for any of this!"' 'theintvoice'>><<fair_plus "$faith" -50>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setloyal -10>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"But even if I can kill Tapyt, what will happen to you?"' 'butinteven'>><<setcompassionate +5>><<fair_plus "$faith" +15>><<setloyal +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'ll do whatever it takes. I won\'t fail."' 'theintvoice'>><<fair_plus "$courage" +10>><<setcompassionate +5>><<fair_plus "$faith" +10>><<setloyal +5>><</link>></li> </ul>

"Our time is over," the voice says, hardly more than a faint murmur. "And the world has moved on without us. We can only strive to protect it from the enemy we created—to ensure Tapyt is finally destroyed alongside us. It will be our final act." <<include "theintvoice">>

The voice has dwindled to a thin wisp now; all around you, the bright horizon is fading, as if the sun is setting behind you, casting everything into shadowy twilight. "We will speak to you only once more," it whispers. "On the eve of battle. Look to the stars. That is all we can do. Until then, you must…" "I must what?" you ask. <i>You must…</i> "What must I do?" <<if settings.glitch is true>><span class="drunk">…</span><<else>>...<</if>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "startchapter8">> <<set $part to 8>> <<set $health to 100>> <<set $gold += 100>> <<set $numberofshepherds += 1>> <<set $mimirjoin to true>> <<if $shepherdsknow is false and $possessed is false>> <<setblade -10>> <<settrouble -10>> <<settallys -10>> <<setshery -10>> <<setriel -10>> <<setchase -10>> <<set $chaseharden -= 1>> <<setred -10>> <<setayla -10>> <<set $aylaharden -= 1>> <<setbriony -10>> <<set $brionyharden -= 1>> <<setlavinet -10>> <<sethalek -10>> <<set $cantbecommander += 3>> <<setloyal -5>> <</if>> <<unset $toldlavi>> <<unset $sherysdiary>> <<unset $talkedto>> <<unset $talkedtoblade>> <<unset $talkedtotrouble>> <<unset $talkedtoshery>> <<unset $talkedtoriel>> <<unset $talkedtochase>> <<unset $talkedtored>> <<unset $talkedtohalek>> <<unset $mimirproceed>> <<unset $mimirproceed2>> <<unset $chaseroom>> <<unset $thurlsdisguise>> <<unset $kaidir>> <<unset $faris>> <<unset $bloodmorph>> <<unset $saranaeclue>> <<unset $thirtyyearsago>> <<unset $berendalspendant>> <<unset $asagattack>> <<unset $cavepartner>> <<unset $triedtodivinemimir>> <<unset $thurlshouse>> <<unset $troublespoon>> <<unset $asaggone>> <<unset $lockwoodmulti>> <<unset $lockwoodprice>> <<unset $shopkeeper>> <<unset $ryzardquestion1>> <<unset $knowledgespirit>> <<unset $methodofthurl>> <<unset $totherescue>> <<unset $talkedaboutasag>> <<unset $asaglure>> <<unset $invadethurl>> <<unset $freeyourselffromthurl>> <<unset $thurlpatience>> <<unset $whythurl>> <<unset $whythurl2>> <<unset $whythurl3>> <<unset $killshepherds>> <<unset $numberofasag>> <<unset $thurlsdeath>> <<achieve "achieve_mimirjoin">> <<if $changelingjoin is true>><<achieve "achieve_changelingjoin">><</if>> <</link>></center>

<<if settings.music is true>><<audio ":playing" fadeout>><</if>> <<fadein 10s>> <<fadeout 5s 8s>><div class="chapterlogo"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/logos/chaptercroplogo.png" alt="Shepherds of Haven"><center><span class="chapterglow">Chapter Ten</span></center></div><</fadeout>> <</fadein>> <<timed 13s>><<goto "chapter9begin">><</timed>><span class="next">[[Next|chapter9begin]]</span> <<set $discussdarktome to false, $petition to 0, $romar to 0, $rhienne to 0, $sibellaevidence to 0, $romarrhienneaffairknow to false, $romarwipelie to false, $romarwipe to false, $sibellapartner to "", $sibellainvestigationsuccessful to false>>

"Well," Riel says crisply into the silence, "we know <i>that's</i> not happening." You turn to him half-despairingly. "What do you mean?" "You're not going into that den of snakes alone," Riel says firmly. "And not to face someone who obviously wishes to do you harm. No. We'll find another way." Briony and Lavinet have been looking back and forth between the two of you. "I think you had better bring us up to speed, darling," Lavinet says slowly. In clipped tones, you and Riel go over the events of the past few weeks: how Sibella de Vespe tried to smuggle in a 'cursed' package, addressed to you, and how you're not sure of what the curse was intended to do before the Tower defenses neutralized it. That she's now trying to lure you—or, more to the point, outright summoned you—to her seat of power in the Sun Court can not be a good thing. Lavinet's spine has gone very stiff. "<i>Well</i>," she drawls eventually. "Just hearing how she wrote the letter was bad enough, but with the added context…" She purses her lips. "I was already wary of Sibella de Vespe's unusual rise to power—such a meteoric change in status is usually accompanied by a lack of scruples and conniving of the most fearsome kind—but clearly I've underestimated her. I've gotten careless, it seems." "What was so wrong with how she wrote the letter?" Briony asks, quite innocently. Both Riel and Lavinet make the same expression: it's not exactly a grimace, and they're too refined to curl their lips, but you sense their distaste as sharply and clearly as if they'd spat. "The entire thing was <i>insulting</i>," Lavinet tells her. "The royal we. The implication that <<c firstname>> did something wrong. And everything she did to make it impossible for $them to decline!" She shakes her head. "You have no choice but to go tomorrow, darling. It's the only time a minister like her is going to have a morning free of appointments; she's already ensured that you can't beg off or delay it without causing her offense, as she's surely busier than you." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I didn't get any of that from the letter."</div>' 'autogenerated_686182'>><<setcunning -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Fine. I <i>want</i> to meet her. I want to look her in the eyes and see if she knows exactly who she's messing with."</div>' 'autogenerated_686183'>><<setcourage +1>><<setcompassionate -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"What if I don't care about offending her? What if I just refuse?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686184'>><<setcourage +1>><<setcunning -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"All right, so it's clear I have to go. But what else are we going to do about it?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686185'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Lavinet all but scoffs. "That's because you're not a courtier, darling. Every single word in that letter was a maneuver, a riposte in a duel. If we were to meet her with a rapier, she'd have left us bleeding." <<include 'begin92'>>

"But it won't be so innocent as all that," Riel mutters. "She has something planned, I just know it." <<include 'begin92'>>

Riel and Lavinet glance at each other. "She's the High Court Mystic," Riel says, as if he's explaining the color of the sky to you. "And the Autarch's presumed Left Hand. She isn't someone you can refuse." <<nobr>><<if $rank is "Commander">> "So? I'm Commander-Legate of the Shepherds. <i>And</i> the Hero of Haven." <<else>> "So? I'm the Hero of Haven." <</if>><</nobr>> "I think you have a rather inflated idea of our position," Riel says dryly. "The Autarch—and by extension, his cabinet—are the highest authorities in the land, if not the world: they decide whether we live or die, and they could decide to disband our order, outlaw our actions, and dissolve our funds like <i>that</i>." He snaps his fingers decisively; Briony flinches. "If Blade felt it necessary to conceal your presence from Enik Goldenson by spiriting you away to Wallmire, along with the other… harder-to-sell… elements of our order, there was a reason for that. He knew that the new Autarch could turn on us in an instant. Giving his trusted Court Mystic—who could ostensibly fire us all and take over command of the Shepherds herself—any cause to slander us would not be a wise move. More lives than just your own will be impacted by that decision." <<include 'begin92'>>

Riel looks brooding. "We need to prepare," he half-mutters to himself. Beside him, Lavinet nods emphatically. "She has something planned, I just know it." <<include 'begin92'>>

"<i>Is</i> this under the purview of the High Court Mystic?" Briony asks then, indicating the letter, which you've dropped onto the scarred round table. Someone has scratched a heart with two initials here; someone else has penciled a warning to the effect of <i>'Oi—if I catch you defacing property like this, I'll make you run laps until your legs are bloody stumps. Use pens, you animals!'</i> "Are <i>we</i>?" "<i>I</i> don't know: he just made the position up!" Riel snaps. He taps the letter sharply. "But this could set an alarming precedent. If she's claiming authority over all arcana and magic-related cases, as she seems to imply in this letter—and which makes up about thirty percent of our work, if you're not including direct Endarkened encounters—De Vespe could begin arguing for more oversight of the Shepherds. In fact, I'd be surprised if she hasn't done so already… Perhaps Enik even elevated her to her position for exactly that purpose." He twitches abruptly, as if he'd kick a trash can if it weren't beneath his dignity. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"But if she could gain power over us that way, she wouldn't resort to sending cursed packages or luring me to meet her alone."</div>' 'autogenerated_686186'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Why are you so annoyed right now, Riel? You seem agitated."</div>' 'autogenerated_686187'>><<setriel +1>><</link>> <<if $rielromance is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Breathe, love. Think of your blood pressure."</div>' 'autogenerated_686188'>><<set $rielromanceflag += 1>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"We have to find some way to de-fang her. She poses a threat."</div>' 'begin935'>><<setcunning +3>><<setriel +1>><<setlavinet +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Maybe it won't be as bad as all that."</div>' 'autogenerated_686189'>><<setbriony +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"True," Riel says sourly. "There are probably more dynamics at play than we realize. Perhaps her position with Enik Goldenson is more precarious than it seems to us. Perhaps there are forces in the Sun Court actively working to stymie her rise to power. Perhaps our high reputation has afforded us some measure of protection, and she's forced to use more subversive methods to undermine us. Perhaps gaining control over the Shepherds isn't her true aim at all, and we are a mere stepping stone to some far more sinister goal." <<include 'begin93'>>

Riel usually keeps his cool under fire; this seems to have nettled him far more than you would expect. "I didn't think she would be so direct," he replies crabbily. "After her first stunt, I believed she would continue to try subterfuge—and I moved to countermand her. I had her couriers and favored servants tailed. I shored up our defenses against a dozen different methods: poison, scrying, espionage, infiltration through our drainpipes. I even made sure she couldn't cross our threshold in <i>gaseous form</i>." He shakes his head in disgust. "I never imagined she would be so bald as to simply send a letter addressed to you, demanding that you come and meet her alone. And it's—perfect, if she doesn't care what others make of it or how suspicious it seems. Why <i>should</i> a minister and member of the Consortium mince words when summoning a subordinate? It all looks perfectly reasonable to anyone who doesn't know about the curse. There's nothing in this that she can be reprimanded for, and no excuse for you to turn her down." "In other words, you couldn't predict her," Briony says with a slight, nervous laugh. Riel's venomous glare utterly silences her. If he could hiss, he would. <<include 'begin93'>>

Briony's eyes turn as round as saucers at this, and she swivels her head to stare at you, her mouth forming a perfect 'o'; Lavinet covers her own mouth in a discreet gesture of amusement. Riel smiles at you, briefly, distractedly, before his irritation returns and he continues moodily, "After her first stunt, I believed she would continue to try subterfuge—and I moved to countermand her. I had her couriers and favored servants tailed. I shored up our defenses against a dozen different methods: poison, scrying, espionage, infiltration through our drainpipes. I even made sure she couldn't cross our threshold in <i>gaseous form</i>." He shakes his head in disgust. "I never imagined she would be so bald as to simply send a letter addressed to you, demanding that you come and meet her alone. And it's—perfect, if she doesn't care what others make of it or how suspicious it seems. Why <i>should</i> a minister and member of the Consortium mince words when summoning a subordinate? It all looks perfectly reasonable to anyone who doesn't know about the curse. There's nothing in this that she can be reprimanded for, and no excuse for you to turn her down." "In other words, you couldn't predict her," Briony says with a slight, nervous laugh. Riel's venomous glare utterly silences her. If he could hiss, he would. <<include 'begin93'>>

Briony smiles encouragingly at you. "Right? Maybe she's already attempted her worst, and now she just… wants to get the measure of you?" "But why would she specify that <<c firstname>> comes <i>alone</i>?" Riel demands. "If her intentions were fair, that wouldn't be something she took care to arrange." <<include 'begin93'>>

<<nobr>><<if $gender is "male">> <<set $rielromanceflag += 1>> <<set $lavinetromanceflag += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>><<include "begin93">>

"What about the package she sent?" Lavinet asks then. "The chocolate? Could we not appeal to some higher authority, tell the Autarch of what she attempted? It would provide a good reason to decline her invitation then, and we could get to him first, before she had a chance to raise a clamor over our refusal. We'd ensure that the narrative is spun in our favor." Riel waves his hand irritably. "For all we know, she was acting on the Autarch's orders. I'd avoid drawing his gaze for as long as possible, if it were up to me: he's an unknown variable, and we don't know what his true feelings towards us are. He may tolerate us as a holdover from his mother's reign, so long as we keep proving effective at protecting the population; or he may have opposed us all along and may just be waiting for a good excuse to get rid of us and start anew—with his <i>own</i> people in charge. We just don't know." He shakes his head. "Besides, we have no proof of her wrongdoing beyond our own eyewitness accounts. She could just as easily deny having anything to do with that package, and then it would be a matter of our word against hers. And in a battle of testimony, a Sun Courtier's account always wins. It's why we haven't raised the issue thus far. The risk outweighs the reward, in my opinion." "Well, fine," Briony says. "So <<c firstname>> <i>has</i> to go and see what this Vespey woman wants tomorrow: that much seems clear. But you said $she wouldn't have to go alone. That we would find another way." At this, Riel flicks his gaze towards Lavinet. The noblewoman looks thoughtful, tracing the rim of her glass around and around with one deliberate finger. <<nobr>><<if $lavinet >= 65>> She's long stopped wearing polish on her nails, and her hands—though still clean and lotioned nightly—are calloused on the palms from hours of long training. <</if>><</nobr>> "Well," she says slowly, "I have been wondering when I should make my debut at the Sun Court. I have the titles and the rights to present myself to my peers, and to make myself officially 'known' in the city. <<nobr>><<if $lavinet_politics is true>> And I have been working hard to make inroads with courtiers who could serve as connections and allies there. Perhaps it's time. <<elseif $lavinettime > 1>> While I haven't been able to make inroads with the courtiers as much as I'd like, enough time has passed that it would make sense to declare myself. <</if>><</nobr>> Without a debut, people don't have to 'officially' acknowledge I'm here…" She makes a small humming sound. "I'd intended to plan and time the whole thing very carefully, but—perhaps this would be better. Showing up with the Hero of Haven at my side would make a bigger splash than anything I could scheme up myself." She smiles slightly. "It would be quite a theatrical entrance." "And no self-respecting courtier presents herself to the court without an entourage," Riel says with some satisfaction. "The former leader of merchants guild would be both an interesting political move as well as a riveting social choice: something to get the gossip sheets talking, and right now, any attention on you is to your benefit. And you would, of course, require a lady-in-waiting…" His blue eyes drift to Briony, who pulls a face. "<i>Me</i>? Wouldn't you want Clara for a job like that?" "Clara isn't here," Lavinet tells her patiently. "And Riel's right, darling, it would be somewhat uncouth for me to show up without a female companion, especially in his company. <<nobr>><<if ($prihinesafe is true) or ($bothsafe is true)>> Once upon a time, I could have called on my cousin for this duty, but she's already been a part of the Sun Court: in that situation, I would be waiting on <i>her</i>, and that won't do. Not for my debut." <<elseif $gender is "female">> And it can't be <<c firstname>> $herself, since $she'll be there for separate business reasons." <<else>> And I can't have that, not for my debut." <</if>><</nobr>> "Well—I mean, all right, I'll be your lady-in-waiting or handmaid or bodyguard or whatever," Briony relents, pouting a little. "I guess if the worst case happens and things go south, having extra backup—especially in the magic-and-or-punching side of things—wouldn't be the stupidest thing in the world to have. But won't they care that I'm Diminished?" "Lavinet already has garnered attention as someone who bucks convention and tradition," Riel tells her. "If anything, you'll only serve to solidify her reputation—and the courtiers' interest in it. Given the right backstory, they'll probably find you fascinating, a delightful novelty rather than an embarrassment. You'll only add to the excitement of her debut." "Whoopee." You're watching all of this unfold with a somewhat nonplussed air. "So you plan to escort me into the Sun Court under the guise of making your debut at the same time I just so happen to have my appointment?" Lavinet smiles smugly. "A convenient coincidence, no? And I <i>am</i> the heiress of Lockwood. Sibella de Vespe can't tell me when or when not to pay my respects to the Autarch—nor does she have any say on who I bring with me to do so." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if ($lavinettime > 0) and ($lavinethate is false)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"You only get to make your debut once, and you said that it was important to you. You shouldn't waste the chance on me."</div>' 'autogenerated_686190'>><<setlavinet +3>><<setbriony +1>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Clever."</div>' 'autogenerated_686191'>><<setlavinet +1>><<setriel +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'll be glad to have you all at my side. The thought of navigating the Sun Court myself makes me queasy."</div>' 'autogenerated_686192'>><<setlavinet +1>><<setriel +1>><<setbriony +1>><<setloyal +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"This is all a lot of trouble for nothing. I don't need you to escort me. I'm perfectly capable of going alone."</div>' 'autogenerated_686193'>><<setlavinet -5>><<setriel -3>><<setbriony -3>><<set $brionyromanceflag -= 1>><<setloyal -5>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $gender is "male">> <<set $lavinetromanceflag += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> Lavinet makes a brisk tutting sound, and Riel smiles slightly. "You should have the wisdom to know our course of action is already set," he tells you gently. "Indeed," Lavinet says, arranging her napkin prettily as if she wishes it were a fan. "The time is now, <<c firstname>>. Helping you is by far the more important thing here." <<include 'begin94'>>

Lavinet smiles, cat-eyed. "It's the best we can do under the circumstances," she says, inclining her head. "By making the appointment tomorrow morning, De Vespe did her best to ensure we didn't have much time to prepare—or arm ourselves better for a face-to-face meeting with her. But at least when you confront her, you won't do so alone." <<include 'begin94'>>

"Same," Briony blurts, looking around nervously. "I've heard such terrible stories about it, and… not even you've been there before, have you, Riel? So none of us know exactly what it's like. But I imagine they call it the 'Court of Knives' and the 'Serpents' Feast' and all that for a reason." <<include 'begin94'>>

<<nobr>><<if ($gender is "male") and ($lavinetromanceflag > 5)>> <<set $lavinetromanceflag -= 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> Riel looks distinctly unimpressed as he returns, "Know when you've been defeated, <<c firstname>>. Sibella involved all of us when she sent that package and had us trapped in the Labyrinth as a result. We're getting to the bottom of this as a team—as an order—whether you like it or not." <<nobr>><<if $rank is not "Commander">> <br><br> "And he <i>is</i> your commanding officer now, so I suppose you can't really argue with him," Briony interjects in <i>sotto voce</i>, obviously trying to lighten the tone. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'begin94'>>

"Is this all that necessary, though, or are we overthinking it?" you ask aloud. "She did ask that I come alone, but it's in the middle of the day, and we'll be in the Sun Court, surrounded by hundreds, if not thousands, of people, just on the other side of her office door. There are guards and soldiers, diplomats and ambassadors from foreign countries wandering those halls. Would she really be so bold as to <i>do</i> anything to me outright?" The others all exchange meaningful glances. "In any other setting, I would agree with you," Riel tells you gravely. "In the greater world, daylight and witnesses and a public setting and the rule of law should be enough to protect you. But you're going into the Sun Court, the great shadowy innards of the Autarchy itself, the seat of power for all the Continent… and we simply don't know what to expect." He shakes his head. "It's an entirely different world in there. Our rules just don't apply." <<page_break "Next" "begin95">>

The next morning, you decide to head to the Sun Court early, arriving at the vast golden gates at the top of the city a good hour and a half before you're due to meet Sibella de Vespe in her offices. ("The key to defeating your enemies," Riel tells you in clipped tones, "is getting to the battlefield before they do." "What, so people who want to duel each other should show up at the field two hours before the fight? What if the other guy gets there three hours earlier? Should you camp out the day before?" Briony asks, mostly just to prod him.) The Sun Court is something of a misleading name: many people use it to refer to the palace that the Autarch lives in, which actually only comprises about a fourth of the city tier itself. But the Autarch's residence is actually formally called "The Palace of Radiant Dawn" or "The Dawn Palace"; it, together with the many state and government buildings of the Consortium, the main garrison of the Vice Guard, the headquarters of the Army of the Sun, and many other buildings and structures are what form the Sun Court in its entirety. As people are wont to do, however, they simply use one name to refer to the most important components, anyway. You meet the others in front of the houses of the Consortium, where Sibella's ministerial offices reside, and where Lavinet tells you that she will likely be before your meeting. Today is one of the days that the Consortium of Blest's most important politicians, ministers, figureheads of state, and other notables convene—under the watchful eye of the Autarch—to discuss, vote on, and occasionally pass the motions, acts, and laws that will affect the rest of the city, if not the world. Surprisingly, these sessions are technically open to any member of the Autarchy's nobility, though any unelected or untitled onlookers must remain in the standing audience as silent observers, rather than being able to speak on the floor. As such, you've agreed that Lavinet will use her authority to bring your entourage into the building—the "Hall of Concordance"—hoping to discern something useful from the figures and dynamics at play in the session before your meeting with De Vespe. You watch as Lavinet—dressed in a dazzling but tasteful gown of stark black and white—steps down from her resplendent carriage, handed down by diffident Solar Corps officers masquerading as a cadre of footmen and attendants. Behind her follows Riel, looking so sharp in his richly-dark suit that he could almost cut the eye, and Briony, trying to look inconspicuous in her borrowed finery with the look of a faintly-suppressed scream on her face, walking as stiffly as if her corset were a metal brace. (Gonturan, for once, was left at home, though Briony assures you it will still come flying to her hand if she needs it. "Just give her, oh, ten minutes or so. Depending on how many walls are in the way. —Don't look at me like that, Riel, I <i>did</i> leave my window open!") Lavinet and Riel decided to pass her off as a minor aristocrat from another country—"some southern island like Elinden or the Ivory Isles"—where a Diminished person could still hold a title of nobility; it would explain and legitimize her position as Lavinet's "lady-in-waiting," while her status as a foreigner would excuse any peripheral breaches in courtly etiquette. They also had to come by coach, with a bevy of unnecessary servants, because according to Lavinet, her every move will be watched from the moment she sets foot in the Sun Court today: failure to turn up in the appropriate transportation would surely factor into any future gossip about her. You opted to walk separately because, dressed in your Shepherds' uniform and armed with Sibella's letter, you didn't want to make the 'coincidence' of Lavinet showing up at court at the same time as your appointment too transparent. Her party meets with yours, and you make a show of greeting each other, and Lavinet exclaims over the luck of your running into each other like this—mostly for the benefit of the silent guards standing in front of the building's entrance, hump-shouldered, thick-jawed men standing smartly in their blazing red uniforms. You agree to 'accompany' her in until your appointment, and from there, all she needs to do is stretch out an elegantly-gloved hand bearing the Naveen signet ring before you're allowed to pass into the Hall of Concordance. <<page_break "Next" "begin96">>

<<nobr>><<if settings.music is true>><<audio "suncourt" volume 0 fadeoverto 5 0.1>><</if>><</nobr>>The building is a vast one, all white marble and alabaster stone, with so many pillars and colonnades on the outside that it less resembles a hall of governance and more like a sumptuous, sprawling temple to the gods themselves. (For all you know, that is what it used to be.) As soon as you pass through the Hall's inner threshold, you feel the buzz and fizz of foreign magic skittering over your skin, like a thin current of static electricity. From Briony's widened eyes, you can tell that she felt it, too—though Riel and Lavinet don't appear to notice. You frown to yourself. Was that a protective ward, fashioned in the same vein as the ones that protect your own Tower? You got the sense that it was scanning your person, peeling away any unsanctioned magic or enchantment before allowing you into the building… Well. You've always known that the Autarchy employed its own Court Mages: Sibella de Vespe is only one of them. It must be thanks to them that security for the Sun Court is so famously impregnable, why the Autarchs themselves have always proved impervious to assassination attempts by their many Diminished enemies. "Glad I didn't try to disguise myself as a Norm, after all," Briony whispers in the hush of the grand marble corridors. "Can you imagine if I'd tripped an alarm? Gods forfend!" Your heart beats an uneasy tattoo as a supremely-polite footservant—who shows no signs of recognizing any abnormality in your party—appears to silently guide you towards the chamber where the Consortium members are holding their session. So this is where the heart of the Autarchy lies, you think, looking up at the vaulted ceiling, the stately and majestically-apportioned furnishings, gleaming dark wood and bone-white ornamentation. This is where the great machinations of the Continent turn, for better or worse, ugly or exalted, noble or debased. It might as well be the engine that propels the world itself. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You can't help but feel a certain sense of awe and reverence about it all.</div>' 'begin98'>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Your stomach turns; you can barely suppress your disgust and loathing.</div>' 'begin98'>><<setcompassionate -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You're coolly interested, absorbing everything with a clinical, academic eye.</div>' 'begin98'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You feel strangely confident, your shoulders straightening. You feel comfortable and at home here.</div>' 'begin98'>><<setcourage +1>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You feel intimidated, humbled, nervous. You don't belong here.</div>' 'begin98'>><<setcourage -1>><<setcharisma -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You're indifferent. A place is just a place.</div>' 'begin98'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

The central chamber is enormous, sporting a dizzying domed ceiling and a circular, turquoise-carpeted floor as large as the auditorium of an opera house. It is shockingly cold in this room, though looking around, no one else seems to notice this but you. About three hundred Norm nobles sit in comfortable chairs on the chamber's floor here, or in the elevated tiers above. On the highest level, overhead galleries and balconies hold throngs of onlookers, most of whom fan themselves gently and trade whispered discussions about the goings-on with bored, languid expressions. At the sight of them all, your heart tenses for a moment; Briony shies back, dithering in the corner of your balcony as she looks down at all of the people with a frozen, fearful expression. Lavinet and Riel, however, assess things at their leisure, cool-eyed and composed. Assembled here are some of the most powerful people on the Continent, all seated together in a single room. You can't help but think of the knife Briony has strapped under her skirt, of the damage you could do with one magical detonation. If you wanted, you could destroy the heart of the Autarchy today in one single, terrible blow. The power in you bridles at the thought; your blood begins to sing, and your vision flares. But even as you contemplate the idea, you feel the familiar, hot wash of magic falling over you. Right, the Court Mages. Of course they'd ward this room, and probably most of the important gathering places of the Sun Court while they were at it. Your own magic is probably dampened and suppressed here. Glancing around, you think you can even pick some of them out, a few figures with unusually-colored hair and formal robes standing unobtrusively along the walls or positioned just behind the room's many pillars, hands clasped politely behind their backs. You've never seen one of them in person, these little-seen, reclusive kinsmen who willingly work for the Autarchy. Then again, you suppose, glancing down at the sun medallion on your chest, they wouldn't be that much different from you… Your attention is then drawn to the front of the room, where a man sits, straight-backed, on a vast, multi-faceted golden throne, the back of which seems to stretch halfway up to the ceiling. Though he seems relatively young, perhaps only seven or eight years older than yourself, the man has the powerful, oppressive gaze of someone much older. He is slender, richly dressed, with pale, almost colorless curls and an imperious nose. His eyes, too, are so pale as to be nearly colorless, as well as half-lidded, giving him both a glaring, lazy look. He wears no crown and has no visible guards, but there's no doubt in your mind that this is the new Autarch: Enik Goldenson. You're somewhat surprised: you hadn't been expecting such a slight, unintimidating figure. The Autarch in your mind was enormous, barrel-chested, titanic, shining with a holy, vaunted light—like the statue of a great king or god come to life. They do, after all, call him a living deity. The man sitting below you looks a little too bureaucratic to fit the picture: he could easily be a military inspector or a noble's second son confined to a Vice Guard desk job than leader of the free world. There are two people seated beside his golden throne. A beautiful woman perhaps ten years your senior, with dusky skin and red-black hair falling nearly to her waist, sitting with all of the couched, languorous energy of a panther at rest; and an older man with pale, papery skin, coarse, oil-slicked gray hair, and hawk-like features, sitting with his fingertips steepled in front of his mouth as he listens to the proceedings on the floor. You're about to turn to Lavinet and Riel to ask who these people might be when, snake-fast, a man appears at your elbow, seemingly flicking out of the shadows in the corner of the room. You jerk away from him, then stop when you realize he isn't a servant or a noble. In fact, he doesn't seem to be Norm at all. "State your purpose," the Ket says in a curt undertone. He is very tall, practically towering over you; his features are stony and unreadable, featuring hard gray eyes, a tan face, and chin-length chestnut hair. An odd mark, as if someone had drawn a horizontal line with a brush and black ink, sits plainly on his forehead. His clothes bear the raiment of the Autarch's sun. A royal guard, after all. Other people are looking over at you now. Lavinet, seemingly overcoming her surprise at seeing a Ket soldier in the Sun Court, steps forward and whispers, "<<c rank>> <<c surname>> is here at my invitation, and with my endorsement. <<c she>> <<nobr>><<if $plural is true>> are <<else>> is <</if>><</nobr>> also here with a summons from the High Court Mystic." She extends the hand with her family ring again. The Ket man says not a word, only holding out his hand to scrutinize your letter from Sibella with grim intent. After a long moment, he hands the paper back to you, then turns and departs without another word. You see one noblewoman in the crowd catch his elbow familiarly and stretch up to whisper something in his ear. You, Riel, Lavinet, and Briony then exchange a series of extremely meaningful glances. Ket guards here, along with the Court Mages? Why hasn't someone—even Blade, who has visited the Sun Court before—ever mentioned them? Were they not present when he was? Looking around, you can see that there are more Ket faces peppered throughout the crowd, gazing watchfully out at the proceedings, scanning the audience for any kind of trouble, all of them uniformed smartly in the garb of the Autarch's personal guard. How did they come to be here? And why is everyone acting so unruffled by having a bunch of fearsome-looking Ket warriors right in their midst? <<page_break "Next" "begin99">>

<<nobr>><<if settings.music is true>><<audio ":playing" fadeoverto 10 0>><</if>><</nobr>> Your mind is so abuzz with questions that you barely take in the rest of the session, trusting that Riel and Lavinet will do it for you. All you pick up is that there's a dispute over water rights in the West somewhere, involving five different holdings. Aides, pages, and scribes scurry along the peripheries of the room, ready to fetch documents or run errands as needed. At the other end of the chamber, opposite of the Autarch's throne, the Consortium Overseer stands atop a podium, pointing at members of the ruling body who wish to speak. No tempers are lost and no voices are raised; it all seems surprisingly civil and polite. One cause for this could be the watchful statue of the One-God, positioned just behind the Overseer's podium: you imagine it's hard to speak out of turn beneath that all-seeing gaze. But the true reason for the good behavior, you suspect, is the more repressive gaze of the watching Autarch himself. He never speaks, but when his gaze lands upon a speaker, you could almost swear you see them shiver, as if his regard were a searing searchlight, marking them for a summary execution. That brings another question to mind, you think. Where is his brother—Ornos Silverson? The session is just drawing towards an adjournment when your group follows the first trickle of onlookers out of the chamber. In the rising bustle and noise, which echoes and reverberates spectacularly along the opulent halls, you turn to your right to ask Riel for his thoughts. And find your upper arm suddenly gripped by an iron hold, which rips you violently around so that your head jerks with the careless motion. You stare up into a vaguely-familiar ochre glare, taking in the blood-red hair and wide-brimmed black hat of the man who's accosted you so rudely. Despite yourself, your eyes widen. <<nobr>><<if $tallysequalist is true>> This is the strange "watcher" you encountered on your first night in Haven, the one who first told you about the Shepherds and talked with you about free will; then cropped up a second time in that bar with Tallys and the Inquisitors… <<if $croellesave is true>> He even interceded that night and saved you from being dragged off to the Chrysalis! <</if>> <br><br> Croelle. This is the <i>last</i> place you ever expected to find him again. <<else>> You've met this man before. He was the one who first told you about the Shepherds, that first night you came to Haven, and goaded you into a strange discussion about free will. He called himself a "watcher," and gave his name as… Croelle. <</if>><</nobr>> "What are you <i>doing</i> here?" the man growls. From his tone and thunderous expression, he seems absolutely livid with you. His eyes blaze with a strange, fiery light. "You aren't supposed to be here. You need to leave. <b><i>Now</i></b>." <<page_break "Next" "begin910">>

<<nobr>><<romancecalc>><<friendshipcalc>><<if (($brionyromanceflag >= 15) or ($briony >= 85)) or (($highestromance is "briony") or ($highestfriendship is "briony"))>> Instantly, Briony jumps protectively between you and this new threat, pinning him with a fierce violet glare. "Let $them <i>go</i>!" <br><br> Croelle ignores her, his golden glare drilling into you like you're some kind of puzzle he's been ripping his hair out over. <<elseif ((($rielromance is true) or ($rielromanceflag >= 30)) or (($highestromance is "riel") or ($highestfriendship is "riel"))) or ($riel >= 90)>> Immediately, the golden head of Riel's cane comes up to rest warningly against Croelle's chest, as if to press him backwards and allow you space. "I suggest you unhand $them immediately," he says quietly. "This isn't the place to be making a scene." <br><br> Croelle ignores him, his golden glare drilling into you like you're some kind of puzzle he's been ripping his hair out over. <<elseif (($lavinetromanceflag >= 15) or ($lavinet >= 85)) or (($highestromance is "lavinet") or ($highestfriendship is "lavinet"))>> Instantly, Lavinet's fan flicks out between you and Croelle, like the warning flash of a cobra's colorful hood, or a knight's shield placed between an innocent and $her tormentor. "I don't know who you are, but I'll thank you to unhand my friend," she says, her voice sugary with implicit threat. "Now, please." <br><br> Croelle ignores her, his golden glare drilling into you like you're some kind of puzzle he's been ripping his hair out over. <<else>> The others, caught just as off-guard as you are, turn to stare at this strange interloper. <</if>><</nobr>> <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Jerk your arm out of his grip. "Don't touch me, <i>kuketch</i>."</div>' 'begin911'>><<setcroelle -5>><<setloyal -1>><<setcompassionate -4>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Threaten him. "Take your hand off me, before you lose it for good."</div>' 'begin9115'>><<setcompassionate -2>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Stare back at him. "What are you doing here? Why do I need to leave?"</div>' 'begin911'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>> <<if $compassionate >= 70>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Smile at him with genuine delight. "It's you. I was wondering when I'd see you again."</div>' 'begin911'>><<setcroelle -1>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>><</if>> <<if $croellesave is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Defend him to the others. "Wait. He's helped me out before. I think we should listen to him."</div>' 'begin911'>><<setcroelle +5>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setloyal +1>><</link>><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if ($compassionate < 45) or ($strength >= 80)>> <<set $croelle += 5>> <<else>> <<set $croelle += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>><<include "begin911">>

Croelle's expression doesn't change, though he does release you. "What are you doing here?" he demands again. "What business could you possibly have at the Sun Court?" "<<c she>> <<nobr>><<if $plural is true>>come<<else>>comes<</if>><</nobr>> at the summons of Sibella de Vespe," Lavinet answers frostily. Though Croelle's dressed in a dark, severe outfit, free of any designs or livery, she must think he's another guard, like the Ket you just encountered in the other room. Certainly no one around you seems to spare the red-haired man a second glance. "<<c she>> <<nobr>><<if $plural is true>>have<<else>>has<</if>><</nobr>> every right to be here." Croelle's eyes narrow. "De Vespe? You can't meet her. Not here, not alone." "What do you know?" Riel asks, just as Briony says, "Sorry, <i>who</i> are you?" Croelle doesn't answer for a moment, just looks at each of your companions in turn with that restless golden glare. Finally he says abruptly, "Come." And he practically shunts you down the corridor, away from the mass of people exiting the session chamber and towards a quieter wing of the Hall of Concordance. Your upper arm burns dully as you go; Croelle grabbed it with such crushing, uncaring strength that he left a bruise. The red-haired man guides your group into another long, vast chamber that declares itself as "The Painted Gallery" on the golden plaque by its door. You glance around as the door clicks shut behind you; you can see why Croelle chose this room. It's museum-like, the frescoed walls broken by high windows, slim pale colonnades, and a few marble benches for visitors to sit and admire the vivid paintings of battles, councils, and other famous historical events hung here. At this time of day, it's utterly empty—and there's nowhere for any potential eavesdroppers to hide. As soon as the door is shut, Croelle says, without ceremony, "De Vespe is out to harm you. She's been trying to pry at your defenses from afar, but your home base is too well-fortified. The fact that she's summoned you here publicly says that she's given up trying to be subtle and is resorting to more brutal measures. But if you go to meet her alone, it'll be too late for you to do anything about it. She'll have you in her grasp." "What do you mean?" you ask warily. Croelle grunts and folds his powerful arms together. You notice that he doesn't show a hint of pale skin anywhere: his black coat is closed up to the throat, and he wears black gloves and heavy black boots. Even his wide-brimmed hat shades most of his face from view. He isn't wearing any armor, but he might as well be. You also notice that he has a thin-hilted sword buckled against his right hip. Who <i>is</i> he? "You've seen the Court Mages around here, haven't you?" he asks. "And the Ket Guard? They're all <i>her</i> doing. She aims to turn you into one of them." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm going to need you to do a much better job explaining things."</div>' 'begin912'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"What are you <i>talking</i> about?"</div>' 'begin912'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Go on."</div>' 'begin912'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"If all you're going to give me is vagaries, I'm leaving. I have an appointment to get to."</div>' 'begin912'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Croelle scowls. "You really know nothing about it?" He looks scornful. "I'll give you the short version. During the Castigation, the first Autarch needed Diminished allies to help maintain control over the population, and to protect him from assassins, ward his palace, whatever. Some people joined him willingly: greedy Mage families willing to sell out their own people in exchange for power and wealth, faithless mercenary Ket from Luxue and Kaikura who sent their armies to supplement his own. He elevated the former into the first Court Mages: they and their bloodlines would forever after enjoy a freedom the rest of Magekind would be stripped of in the new world. They were given lives of security, luxury, education, and access to all of the pilfered texts and spells that the rest of the world lost. At the time, they were on the same footing as the noble Norm families who'd rallied behind the Autarch and supported him during his rise to power, also granted titles and land as well as the freedom to use their magic—so long as it was used in service to the Autarchy." His mouth twists: an ironic, bitter expression. "But how do you control the generations that come after? The rebellious heirs and grand-heirs who had no say in the choices of their ancestors? And what's more: there were prisoners of war, too. Captives that were prized and coveted for their unique powers and skills, who—if subjugated correctly—could ensure the Autarchy's total domination over the Continent. Ket generals, Archmages, Elven scholars and sages… even a Hunter or two, just to make sure all of the little enclaves and rebel groups were accounted for. You don't want to kill or torture such specimens; they're too valuable. But how do you force them to bend their necks in service to the Autarchy? What's more, how can you assure their <i>true</i> loyalty and cooperation? Because even if they say they'll help, how can you be sure they aren't simply plotting to knife you in the dark at the earliest opportunity?" He jerks his chin towards a portrait behind you. You turn and take in the crisp illustration of a man and woman approaching middle-age: both sport cunning brown eyes and the same red-black hair as the woman you saw in the council chambers, the one sitting to the left of the Autarch. "In came the De Vespes. Probably the most powerful Enchanter family of their time, and one of the original Mage families who sold their allegiance to the Autarch. They devised a way of binding Diminished prisoners to the Sun Court in such a way that it utterly stripped them of their free will. These became the Shackled. The Shackled retained some of their power and nominal functionality, but they were essentially mindless, emotionless automatons: puppets being moved by a string. They were blank, mere shells. Not as useful when you want an army of alert, skillful Ket warriors protecting you, or true Mages devising unique and creative magical solutions you could never generate yourself. So it wasn't perfect, but it was an efficient way of ensuring that the servants of the palace couldn't harm those who were in it, at least. And it was a convenient punishment to deter anyone else from getting seditious ideas." "Wait a moment," Briony interrupts then, sounding aghast. "Are you saying that—that the Court Mages—or these people you call the Shackled—they're <i>brainwashed</i>? They're not here of their own free will?" Croelle casts an impatient glance at her. "I'm getting to that," he grates out. "As I said: the Shackled were rendered harmless when the De Vespes stripped them of their free will, but the effect was still less than ideal. It rendered them practically comatose: they were able to move, eat, and speak, but after a while, they lost their ability to use their Gift entirely, which defeated much of the point of using them as tools for the Autarchy. Most also died after a few years, if not months." He smirks. "So it wasn't a perfect process at first, but it was a start. The De Vespes have spent the last two hundred years since then trying to perfect the art." <<page_break "Next" "begin913">>

Riel stirs then, arriving to the point ahead of Croelle. "Sibella, then, is the latest in her long line of subjugators, I take it?" Croelle glances at him; his expression doesn't warm, but there's something like a note of cold interest in it. "Right. She and her entire lineage have spent their lives trying to find a way to subordinate people—Diminished people—without robbing them of their personality, strength, or power, <i>Leashing</i> them to the Autarch's might without outright crushing them. They've gotten much better at it. Now, most of the Leashed here are pretty close to their natural selves: a bit wooden, still devoid of most emotion, but much improved from the walking zombies of the first generation. It's enough that most of them are conscious and <i>aware</i> of what's being done to them. They're just powerless to fight it. A Leashed captive has no choice but to obey a Sun Courtier's command: the Autarch's hold on them is so strong that they'll willingly slit their throats if they're commanded to. I've seen it myself. You can see the scream in a man's eyes even as he's driven to his knees by some invisible force and made to kiss a bored courtier's boots with a smile on his face. He <i>knows</i> what's being done to him. I think some of the Sun Courtiers prefer it that way." "Gods above," Briony whispers into the silence. Croelle doesn't quite smile, but you suddenly notice the scent of something like heated metal around him, and something strange glints in his eyes. "Gods have nothing to do with it," he says softly. "They've forsaken this place, if they ever existed at all." Then he adds off-handedly: "And if you think the solution to all of this would be to kill the De Vespes, one of their innovations has been to Leash subjects so permanently and irrevocably that they don't need 'handlers' to actively maintain the enchantments over them. Even if you destroyed that entire house, the shackles binding their victims would still remain in place." "How many of these Leashed people are here in the Sun Court?" Lavinet asks then, her voice faint with dismay. Croelle lifts one shoulder, seemingly indifferent now. "I never bothered to keep count. Only about half of the Court Mages are Leashed—these were either runaway descendants of the original families, or unwilling prisoners of war or <i>their</i> descendants. The other half, including the De Vespes, still serve faithfully… though you have to wonder if they're now simply playing the game they were born into. At this point, they don't have much of a choice in it either: they can either try and leave, and be Leashed themselves, or they can go along with things and at least retain their inherited power. Self-preservation tends to win, in those cases. Or plain servile complacency. It's the only way of life they know, after all." <<page_break "Next" "begin914">>

He sneers. "As for the rest, <i>all</i> of the Ket Guard are Leashed: you know how the Ket are, death before dishonor and all. They wouldn't be here if they weren't magically compelled to be. There are a handful of Elven servants, but the Sun Courtiers tend to be less interested in them: while they're good for crafting and artistry, their beauty and long lives tend to make their masters insecure, so they're not a very popular choice. And with the Uprisings, no one bothered Leashing Hunters after they were expelled from the city. No one was expecting the Endarkened to come back a few decades later, I suppose." He almost looks like he wants to laugh at that, though you can't imagine what's so funny. Riel says, "So there's a veritable army of completely compliant—though fully conscious and resentful—Diminished slaves walking these halls. Are there any of the original Shackled still remaining?" Croelle frowns. "I never bothered to notice. If there are, there are probably less than a dozen." He taps his forehead. "The sigils tell you everything. Those with crescents are Leashed Mages, those with slashes Leashed Ket. Vertical lines for the Elves. A plain dot is for the older Shackled slaves, if they're still around. And nothing for the loyal, untouched Court Mages… or for the ones the De Vespes don't want you to know about. The sigils are supposed to be a standard safety measure, by order of the Autarch… but you never know, with them." "It sounds like what was done to Thumma in the arena, the potion—do you remember those Mages that would put the spellmarks on us?" Briony says to you, anxiously, just as Riel murmurs, "It sounds similar to a kind of lobotomy," while Lavinet cries, "But I don't understand—if what you say is true and this has been going on for <i>generations</i>, why haven't I ever heard about it? No one in my circle knows about any of this, I'm sure of that—" Croelle looks scornful again. "You think this is something the Autarchy would want to get out?" he asks. "This is a state secret. There would be all-out panic in the masses—maybe even war—if any of it left the Sun Court. The Leashed are confined to these halls and never see the outside world. Even to the ninety-nine percent of people who see them every day, they simply believe they're indentured servants of the palace, there under pain of death or blackmail or even of their own free will. They don't know how magic or the De Vespes play into it." "How do <i>you</i> know about it, then?" you ask him. "And why are you telling us?" <<page_break "Next" "begin915">>

<<set $moveon to false>> Croelle stares at you for a long moment. Something about his expression is searching, almost hungry—a vulturous predator's gaze. Finally he says simply, "We share a common enemy: that's all." "De Vespe?" Briony says. "Why are you against her?" Croelle curls his lip, revealing unusually pointed canines. "That woman and her entire line are slavers," he says slowly. "If I could, I'd gut and burn them all, then leave the husks to spoil in the mud. But more than that, she seeks to become Enik's Left Hand, and believes that position to be already occupied. She's set her sights on me, too." You all turn to stare at him. "<i>You're</i> the Autarch's secret Left Hand?" you ask incredulously. "I find it hard to believe you would outright tell us that." Croelle scowls at you. "I said <i>De Vespe</i> thinks I am," he growls. "I don't know what Enik thinks of me, and I don't care. But I don't like that she has a target on my back, and if she gains you as an asset, that only makes her a more powerful enemy for me to contend with." He looks at you. "In her mind, she needs to take care of both of us to become Enik's Left Hand. She thinks that gaining control over the Shepherds—his mother's pet project—and the Hero of Haven will make her more invaluable to him. You're a threat to her, you see: <i>she</i> wants to be Haven's most powerful magic-user, the High Court Mystic, the greatest Mage in the land. But with you in the picture—and the support you rally—she suddenly doesn't look quite so impressive. If you keep accomplishing all of your momentous deeds"—something in his tone sounds faintly mocking—"what if Enik gets it in his head to replace her with you? He doesn't <i>need</i> her if you're around. So she wants to Leash you. Today. It's the only reason why she would have called you here to meet her in person." <<include "sibellainfo">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("sibella_but_how")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"But how would she accomplish that? Everyone would know."</div>' 'sibella_but_how'>><<set $moveon to true>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("sibella_package") and $moveon is true>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Sibella sent me a package, a few weeks ago. Do you think that she was attempting to place the geas on me then?"</div>' 'sibella_package'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("sibella_cure")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Is there a cure?"</div>' 'sibella_cure'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("sibella_left_hand")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Go back to how De Vespe thinks you're the Left Hand. Why would she think that? Who are you to the Autarch?"</div>' 'sibella_left_hand'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("sibella_leash_you") and $moveon is true>><<link '<div class="question-item">"If you're such a threat to De Vespe, why hasn't she tried to Leash <i>you</i>?" </div>' 'sibella_leash_you'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("sibella_trust")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"How do we know any of what you're saying is true? Why should we trust you?"</div>' 'sibella_trust'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $moveon is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Before you can say anything more, the door to the gallery opens.</div>' 'sibella_door_opens'>><</link>><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

"That's true," Riel says. "Even if De Vespe succeeded in placing such an aberration on <<c rank>> <<c surname>>, we would be able to see that $her personality was altered." "But you wouldn't know why, if I hadn't said anything to you first," Croelle points out lazily. "And besides, we haven't even covered Sibella's latest contribution to her family's legacy. She's been working on turning the Leashing into something called a geas. Heard of it?" A geas? <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $intelligence >= 90>><<link '<div class="choice-item">The term rings a note of recollection in your memory.</div>' 'autogenerated_686194'>><<setintelligence +1>><<setriel +1>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You've never heard of such a thing.</div>' 'autogenerated_686195'>><<setintelligence -1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if ($rielromance is true) or ($rielromanceflag >= 5)>> <<set $rielromanceflag += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> "That's old magic," you say slowly, dredging up a small entry from some half-forgotten glossary you read when you were younger. "From before Archmage Tangriel's time. It's… something like a curse, or an enchantment, or a subconscious mental command. Once a geas has been laid on you, you're always forced to obey it. There's a legend about a healer who's bound by a geas that compels her to heal the wound or ailment of anyone she comes across. She successfully travels across the land, driven by something she fully believes is her own desire and calling, but which is actually magically impelled. She heals a leper of his sores and a blind man of his impairment, but when she encounters a woman with a broken heart, she's not able to obey the geas and heal that wound, and then dies as a result of the curse." "That's <i>awful</i>," Briony says, sounding genuinely appalled. <<include 'sibella_geas_explanation'>>

"That's old magic, isn't it?" Briony asks then. "From before Archmage Tangriel's time. I read about it in an old book recently. It's like a—a curse, or an enchantment, or a subconscious mental command. Once a geas has been laid on you, you're always forced to obey it. There's a legend about a healer who's bound by a geas that compels her to heal the wound or ailment of anyone she comes across. She successfully travels across the land, driven by something she believes is her own desire and calling, but which is actually magically impelled. She heals a leper of his sores and a blind man of his impairment, but when she encounters a woman with a broken heart, she's not able to obey the geas and heal that wound, and then dies as a result of the curse." <<include 'sibella_geas_explanation'>>

Croelle grunts. "I don't know how it works, but I know it's what De Vespe has been experimenting with. Her geas is <i>to always obey the Autarchy</i>, or <i>to always act with its best interests in mind</i>. What's so sinister about this form of Leashing is that it's so subtle and so insidious that the subject <i>doesn't even know they're Leashed</i>. That's the difference. The curse uses the subject's own personality and conscious mind against them to protect itself from discovery, making it so that they act and behave completely normally and autonomously. But they cannot go directly against the Autarchy, for reasons that <i>they</i> believe and devise on their own. A merchant who might otherwise supply guns to the resistance is instead subtly nudged towards obedience to the government due to an entirely reasonable love of profit or enhanced fear of consequences for his family, or a desire for a stable economy, or whatever fits him best. The victim never notices that the geas is subtly and subconsciously diverting him from a particular course of action or his own natural instincts; instead, it manipulates him, guides him, using his <i>own</i> personality and reasoning and making him think <i>he</i> came up with it all himself. It hardly has to make itself known at all. Not even the subject's spouse or closest friend would have any reason to suspect any kind of interference was in place, other than a natural change of mind. It is the most poisonous, most undetectable kind of chain—one that's unbreakable, completely invasive, and so invisible that it invades the entire system like a virus." There's a breathless, horrified beat of silence at that. Briony says quietly, her face very set and white: "And that's what De Vespe wants to do to <<c firstname>>." Croelle shrugs. "I would think so. It's still in its early stages, but I know that it works: her successes are what led to De Vespe becoming High Court Mystic in the first place. She's spent the last few years tinkering with the whole thing. One of the purposes of the Chrysalis—which Enik created—was to allow her to have her pick of strong, promising Diminished subjects to experiment on, though there are other programs performed there for state purposes. Still. Many of the powerful Diminished prisoners who 'disappeared' there are actually some of the faces you see now, roaming the halls." He glances at you. "From what I know, right now it works best as a preventative measure, to direct the subject to subconsciously act in ways that are supportive of the Autarchy and to prevent them from working for 'the other side'. They can't suspect what's been done to them, so it's not the same compulsive obedience to direct commands like the previous methods of Leashing. But they also can't get rid of what they never know is there. It finally achieves the De Vespes' goals of having functional, independent, happy, and loyal citizens who are guaranteed to never, <i>ever</i> betray the Autarchy, and will always act with its best interests in mind." "Whichever version De Vespe plans on applying to you, it's still the worst-case scenario," Riel murmurs. "You'd be in her pocket whether you liked it or not." "But what's stopping De Vespe from imposing this geas on—on <i>everyone</i>?" Lavinet asks, sounding horrified. "If it's as insidious and as undetectable as you say, it could have already infected everyone in the Sun Court, or even the city: how would we know the difference?" "You wouldn't," Croelle answers brutally. "That's the point. De Vespe even erases the memory of the event—or plants false ones—so you have no reason to suspect anything's been done to you." He meets your eye, and, unbidden, the topic of your very first conversation with him floats to the forefront of your mind. <i>Free will</i>. He's been living in a world where the question of whether you have it or not is particularly precarious. Because—if any of this is true—how would you <i>really</i> know? <<nobr>><<if $shepherdsconscript is true>> You were imprisoned, once, beneath the Sun Court. Could something have been done to you then, and you simply don't remember? What if the geas, or something like it, was what made you change your mind and agree to join the Shepherds in the first place?… Acidic bile rises in your throat at the thought. <</if>><</nobr>> "But I know that she's the only one who can work it," Croelle finishes, "which is why Enik currently favors her so much. It hasn't turned into a mass production… yet. The old Autarch wasn't a fan of the whole practice unless it was absolutely necessary, so De Vespe's work had to remain a secret project for a long time until her death. And even now, I know Enik's given her direct orders not to do it to anybody without his permission or knowledge. Otherwise, that gives De Vespe too much leverage; no Autarch wants to turn around and find out that an army of brainwashed civilians has been created behind his back, utilizing methods that only a single individual can perform. There have to be records, witnesses, formal procedures… accountability for her, as well. Otherwise, paranoia among his inner circle would run rampant, and things could turn in an unfavorable direction for him fast. So I know the number of people who have had the geas put on them is still extremely small, and recorded somewhere." Then he smiles grimly at you. "But I'm willing to bet De Vespe was willing to make an exception for you. You're that special." <<page_break "Next" "sibella_autarch_question">>

"Couldn't we tell the Autarch, then?" Briony asks anxiously. "If she's going behind his back to target <<c firstname>>, surely she'd get in trouble for that?" "De Vespe hasn't done anything yet," Riel points out. "We have no evidence that she's actually planning on using the geas other than our own intuition, so there would be nothing to 'get her in trouble' for. And besides, telling him about our suspicions would reveal that we <i>also</i> know about the geas… and I imagine that's not something we'd want the Autarch to know." "No," Croelle says flatly. "It wouldn't." "And if we waited until after she'd done it, to have the requisite proof to convict her… it might be too late to reverse it," Lavinet finishes heavily. "So." You all let that hang in the air for a moment like a funeral shroud. So. <<include "sibellainfo">>

Croelle grunts after listening to your summary of what happened with the cursed package. "She has to be there in person to accomplish the Leashing," he says slowly. "She can't do it from afar. Most likely, the curse in the package was a simpler enchantment, inducing you to come to the Sun Court to come see her once it got ahold of you. Luckily for you, your Tower caught it before it could infect you. And it's also prevented her from entering your home and doing it <i>there</i>, since it would sense her ill intentions and bar her from entry." "But even if she did succeed in—Leashing <<c firstname>>," Briony begins, her face flushing dangerously at the idea, "wouldn't the Tower wards pick up on that once $she came home?" Croelle lifts his shoulder in a shrug. "To be honest, I doubt it. A geas is old magic, older than the Tower itself, but the way Sibella has worked it into the larger Leashing is an entirely new invention. Wards created a few hundred years ago aren't completely fool-proof and can't cover all the bases in the world, especially bases the creators had no knowledge of and couldn't have foreseen. It might not be a type of magic that the wards were programmed to recognize." "And even if they <i>did</i> recognize it, that doesn't mean they'd be able to cure it," Riel mutters. "If this geas is as subtle and undetectable as you say, it likely wouldn't be a simple thing to untangle or reverse." <<include "sibellainfo">>

Croelle's face is stony, though also harsh with some emotion. "No. Maybe back then, when the shackles were still primitive—but it's not a reversible process anymore. It wouldn't be a very safe system to rely on if you could corner or threaten a De Vespe into undoing it." "But there <i>has</i> to be a locus of control," Briony protests then. "Every spell has one. Sometimes it's an object you have to destroy, or the caster themselves, but there has to be <i>something</i>, even if it's very well-hidden. <<nobr>><<if $thummasaved is true>> I've seen something like this happen to someone else—she'd been held under thrall for <i>years</i>, trapped inside her own mind—and <<c firstname>> was able to free her even when everyone else said it couldn't be done. <</if>><</nobr>> There has to be a way." Croelle scoffs. "Well, whatever it is, it's not any of the De Vespes. I already told you, killing them doesn't have any effect on the Leashed. It's been tried before." "Presumably, that's because the Leashed don't answer to them," Riel says thoughtfully. "Their will must be tied to the Autarch's, surely: he ultimately has to be the one who commands them. <i>He's</i> probably the locus of the spell." Croelle grunts. "Fine. Then if that were true, the only way to free them would be to convince him to do it himself… or kill him. Both of which are impossible tasks. He has layers of impervious protection on him like you wouldn't believe." "I believe it," Riel mutters. <<include "sibellainfo">>

Croelle looks at you: his face is full of savage, sullen challenge. "Does it matter? I'm an enemy of De Vespe's." Riel and Lavinet flick glances at each other; Briony, clearly unnerved by his lack of answers, presses, "Are you a minister? A servant?" Croelle cuts her a hard look. "Neither." "The day we first met, you called yourself a 'watcher,'" you recall, conjuring up the memory of the night before Prihine's wedding. It feels like a lifetime ago. "You said <i>someone</i> had tasked you with watching the Shepherds and seeing how their progress went. Was that someone Enik?" Croelle doesn't answer for a moment. "Among other parties," he says finally, with a faint, dangerous smile. You exchange looks with the others. A spymaster, then? It would explain his reticence, as well as his trusted status and De Vespe's fixation on him. "Are you… an enemy of the Shepherds, then?" Briony asks cautiously. Croelle grunts, twitching irritably like a large animal being hassled by a fly. "I observe," he drawls. "Nothing more, nothing less." "What about these 'other parties'?" Riel askes shrewdly. Croelle glances at him and says nothing more. <<include "sibellainfo">>

Croelle actually laughs at that. It's a hollow, terrible sound, so devoid of natural mirth or true joy that it causes your skin to break out into gooseflesh. "She's too afraid to try," he says. "Enik relies on me too much, and I know her ways too well for her to risk it with me. Besides. There are already preexisting claims on me… ones that even De Vespe can't supplant." You're not sure what that means, but looking at him, at the strange, challenging light in his eyes, you feel something bubble up in your gut: whether it's anger or recognition or the same ironic, mirthless hysteria, you can't quite say. You sort of know the feeling. No matter how powerful Sibella de Vespe thinks she is, your life may already not be fully your own; you might already be Leashed to a far greater power. If she has designs on your fate and choices, she has to get in line. And perhaps Croelle—and his apparent obsession with free will—knows a little something about that… <<include "sibellainfo">>

Croelle looks at you dispassionately. "You don't," he says with contempt. "And I don't frankly give a shit if you do trust me. I don't want you falling into De Vespe's hands for my own reasons; but if you choose to ignore me and charge headlong into your own enslavement, I won't lift a finger to stop you." "He's not <i>helping</i> us," Lavinet translates then, with a hint of her own sarcasm. "He's merely preventing a powerful tool from being turned against him; he's protecting himself from a future annoyance, that's all." Croelle bares his teeth at her, in something like a grin and a grimace, but doesn't bother to correct her. <<include "sibellainfo">>

A bland-faced servant—you can't even be sure if it's the same one who first led you into the Hall of Concordance—peers in through the door. "<<c rank>>?" he asks politely. "The High Court Mystic has sent me to guide you to her offices, if you please." Already? You check the time: watching the Consortium's session and talking with Croelle has taken up all of your preparatory time. Briony's eyes widen in a panic, and both Riel and Lavinet look discomfited. For a moment, no one says anything, until Croelle says abruptly: "I'm going with you." You round on him. "What?" He looks at you with clear disdain. "It's your only chance," he says. "I'll sit in on your meeting with De Vespe. She wouldn't dare try to Leash you while I'm in the room, watching. And I have the authority to muscle in despite her protests." At your hesitation, he adds, "You really don't have a choice." <i>That's ironic</i>, you think bitterly. You glance at the footman, still waiting by the door with a perfectly neutral expression. "Could you give us a moment?" To Croelle you add: "You, too." The red-haired man rolls his eyes and takes several long strides towards the door as the footman closes it, allowing you space, but he makes no attempt to actually exit the room. You turn to the others and say in a whisper, knowing Croelle is likely to overhear anyway: "What do we think? Can we trust him?" "I'd say so," Briony says hesitantly. "I mean, he really seems to hate De Vespe… and I can't imagine why he'd stick his neck out and tell us all of this if he didn't want to help us… right?" "This is the Sun Court, darling," Lavinet shoots back in a hushed voice. "Everything has another layer, an ulterior motive. He could simply be using us, lying to us, exploiting us in ways that we can't see. He's being awfully selective about his answers, I notice." "He is telling us the truth about the Leashing and the geas, and about his enmity with De Vespe, I know that much is true," Riel says, with clear conviction. "Unless he is a bonafide psychopath, I don't detect any deception in his countenance. But there's also something else. He seems a man of cruelty, of savagery and violence. It's contained for now, but it's there. He is not… a kind or altruistic man. Something else is going on here." "Oh, but does it <i>matter</i>?" Briony asks, distressed. "Is anything he could do to <<c firstname>> as bad as what Sibella de Vespe is apparently planning?" That's a good point, you have to admit… But what does your gut say? <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I say we trust him. His presence might be what we need to turn the tables on De Vespe."</div>' 'autogenerated_686196'>><<setcroelle +10>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I don't trust him. I don't think he should come to the meeting. I can handle De Vespe and her geas myself."</div>' 'autogenerated_686197'>><<setcroelle -10>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

The others nod reluctantly. "It's not as if we have any better ideas," Briony mutters. "We can't barge into her office with you, and even if we did—what if she put the geas on us, too?" She darts a look at Croelle. "At least she seems to fear him." "Who wouldn't?" Lavinet asks softly, glancing over at the dark-clothed man, who glowers balefully back. "She'd be a fool not to." <<include 'sibella_meeting_preparation'>>

"You're a fool if you think that," Croelle breaks in calmly, still standing some distance away from your group. "And a fool to take the risk at all, considering what I just told you." He looks indifferent as he adds, "Luckily, I don't need your permission to attend. Neither you nor De Vespe have the authority to stop me." You glare at him. "So that's how it's going to be?" He curls his lip at you; it's half a smirk, half a snarl. "Not that I particularly give a damn, but you'll thank me for it later." <<include 'sibella_meeting_preparation'>>

That decided, you gather yourself and decide to follow the servant to the offices of Sibella De Vespe. <<page_break "Next" "sibella_lead_to_office">>

Briony, Riel, and Lavinet trail worriedly behind you as the footman leads you out of the Hall and into another government building, this one holding ministerial offices, including that of De Vespe's. Croelle walks behind all of you like a fixed shadow you can't shake, making no attempt at further conversation as you move; his presence, and the servant's, make it impossible to confer with your companions further. <<nobr>><<if (($rielromance is true) or ($highestromance is "riel")) or (($riel >= 90) or ($highestfriendship is "riel"))>> However, Riel—albeit a bit awkwardly—lays his hand discreetly on your arm in a gesture of silent reassurance. The scent of him, crisp linen and expensive cologne, and his alert, assessing gaze brings you a measure of comfort. <br><br> "Nothing will happen," he says to you in an undertone, his blue eyes fierce and burning in his pale face. "I won't allow it." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Squeeze his hand back. "Thank you."</div>' 'autogenerated_686198'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Nod slowly in acknowledgment. You're focused on the task at hand.</div>' 'sibella_office_door'>><<setriel +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Say nothing. You're not sure you share his confidence.</div>' 'sibella_office_door'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <<elseif (($brionyromanceflag >= 15) or ($briony >= 85)) or (($highestromance is "briony") or ($highestfriendship is "briony"))>> However, Briony links her arm with yours in a gesture of silent companionship and solidarity. Something about the sweet scent of her, something like almond and cherries, and her warm strength of her grip brings you a measure of comfort. <br><br> "You've got this," she tells you quietly, her violet eyes totally earnest as she glances into your face. "Don't worry. We won't let anything happen to you. I <i>swear</i> it." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Squeeze her hand. "Thank you."</div>' 'autogenerated_686199'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Nod slowly in acknowledgment. You're focused on the task at hand.</div>' 'sibella_office_door'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Say nothing. You're not sure you share her confidence.</div>' 'sibella_office_door'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <<elseif (($lavinetromanceflag >= 15) or ($lavinet >= 80)) or (($highestromance is "lavinet") or ($highestfriendship is "lavinet"))>> However, Lavinet lays her hand lightly against your arm and presses it in a gesture of silent reassurance. The scent of her, the light tang of jasmine and bergamot, and her graceful, confident gait at your side brings you a measure of comfort. <br><br> "Hold your head high, darling," she murmurs to you in an undertone. "We know what she's about. A snake that exposes itself is far less dangerous than one that stays hidden in the grass. We have our eyes on her. She can do nothing to you, I promise." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Squeeze her hand. "Thank you."</div>' 'autogenerated_686200'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Nod slowly in acknowledgment. You're focused on the task at hand.</div>' 'sibella_office_door'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Say nothing. You're not sure you share her confidence.</div>' 'sibella_office_door'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <<else>> <br><br> <<include "sibella_office_door">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if ($gender is "male") and ($lavinetromanceflag >= 7)>> <<set $lavinetromanceflag += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> She gives you a slight smile, pressing your fingers gently before she lets you go. <<include 'sibella_office_door'>>

<<nobr>><<if $brionyromanceflag >= 10>> <<set $brionyromanceflag += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> She squeezes back more fiercely. "I've got you, <<c firstname>>." <<include 'sibella_office_door'>>

<<nobr>><<if ($rielromance is true) or ($rielromanceflag >= 30)>> <<set $rielromanceflag += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> Riel gives you a look—not a smile, exactly, but a look of such resolution that you can't help but feel a bit better. <<include 'sibella_office_door'>>

Your heart beats a fast tattoo against your chest as the servant finally leads you to a set of enormous doors carved out of polished, gold leaf latticed wood. You scarcely have time to glance back at your companions—who will wait for you in the corridor outside—before the footman opens the door, bows you in, and Croelle, looming up behind you, all but herds you unwillingly into the chambers of Sibella de Vespe. <<page_break "Next" "sibella_vespe_office">>

There's the scent of perfume. Just a touch too much of it, heady and cloying enough to make you feel a little dizzy. You smell orchid, neroli, black lily, rosewood, clove. Your footfalls are muffled by a plush red carpet of the thickest caliber, so luxurious that you feel conscious of how your boots scuff against it; sunlight streams through tall windows shrouded by curtains of deep crimson as they look out onto other halls of governance nearby. Everything here is built from rich rosewood, the tall shelves and handsome settees gleaming with careful attention. An organized, demanding mind—one used to both wealth and total control—organized this space. You're almost so preoccupied with gauging your surroundings—no sinister brainwashing tools and strange instruments lying around here—that it takes you another beat to notice that that very mind is watching you from the hazy golden shadows behind her desk. Sibella de Vespe doesn't rise to greet you, though you suppose a minister summoning a subordinate wouldn't have to. She's the same woman you saw sitting beside the Autarch, just an hour before: she's very tall, taller even than Lavinet, who is considered statuesque by her peers, and looks perhaps a decade your senior. She perfectly embodies the ever-changing fashions of the Sun Court, gold dust and pearl powder turning her cheekbones luminescent in the glinting sun; her dark, almond-shaped eyes are darkened further by bold kohl, and her lips are daubed with a red paint so dark it almost veers on black. This close, she's so beautiful it almost <i>hurts</i>, her brown eyes almost hypnotic in their intense stare; and that's when you wonder if she employs some sort of glamour to illicit that reaction in almost everyone she meets. Croelle said she comes from a long line of extremely powerful Enchanters, after all. Sibella seems to drink you in as you come to a halt in front of her desk. "<<c rank>> <<c surname>>," she says: her voice is low, smooth and thick as honey, and as cool as ice. "What a pleasure it is to finally meet you. The stories about you and your companions don't do you justice." Then her eyes shift to your right, and something like a snap of anger enters her gaze. "High Inquisitor. To what do we owe the great honor of your company?" It takes everything inside of you not to let your head crank halfway off your neck like a wind-up toy's to stare at Croelle. High <b><i>INQUISITOR</i></b>? That would make him second only to the Grand Inquisitor, the position once held by Enik Goldenson himself, prior to his ascension to the throne… <<nobr>><<if $croellesave is true>> <br><br> <i>Of course</i>, you think then. That time he called off the Inquisitors when they were harassing you and that tavern owner last year. They slunk out of that bar because he was <b><i>their boss.</i></b> <</if>><</nobr>> From your periphery, the red-haired man's expression doesn't change. "We ran into each other," he says shortly. "You called $them here because you wanted a direct report on the Shepherds' activities, didn't you? The Inquisition also has a vested interest in hearing those details." De Vespe's nostrils flare, ever so slightly. "I am always in support of cooperation between our offices," she begins graciously, "but if I'd had the courtesy of some forewarning…" "Let's not do the mealy-mouthed politician thing here, De Vespe," Croelle says then, his tone brazenly insulting. "I don't care for it, and neither of us is fooling the other. You'd rather see me hang than cooperate with me, and I'm more likely to raise the dead than I am to give anyone the <i>courtesy</i> of anything. There isn't fuck-all you can do about it, either. So let's get this over with and get out of each other's way." He glances indifferently at you. "Start talking." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Glare at him. <i>I hate you so much.</i></div>' 'autogenerated_686201'>><<setcourage +1>><<setcroelle +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Roll your eyes silently. <i>That was a bit unnecessary, wasn't it?</i></div>' 'autogenerated_686202'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Stand there and let the awkward, frozen silence drag out a bit. You feel thoroughly caught in the crossfire and have no idea what to say.</div>' 'sibella_continues_questioning'>><<setcunning -3>><<setcharisma -3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Stand there and let the awkward, frozen silence drag out a bit. Oh, this is going to be <i>fun.</i></div>' 'sibella_continues_questioning'>><<setcunning +2>><<setcompassionate -1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Croelle's mouth thins slightly, though whether it's from holding back a smile of approval or an answering snarl, you can't be sure. <<include 'sibella_continues_questioning'>>

Croelle doesn't acknowledge your change in expression. <<include 'sibella_continues_questioning'>>

Sibella folds her hands together as you slowly begin your report on Qael-Qanaeon, suppressing the ironical feeling that all of this could have simply been sent in a written report. To your right, Croelle stands, as rigid as a leopard eyeing down a rival in anticipation of the first strike; it's quite clear that neither of them are listening to you, which makes your recitation feel all the more pointless. When you finish speaking, your words hanging in dead, heavy air, Sibella finally blinks languidly and draws her gaze back to you. She smiles, and you feel a sharp pinprick as if someone had stuck you with a needle. "Thank you, <<c rank>>," she says in her syrupy drawl. "Please, have a seat, make yourself comfortable. Shall I call for refreshment?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Take a seat and confidently cross one leg over the other, the picture of someone at their ease. "Please do."</div>' 'sibella_discusses_shepherds'>><<setcourage +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Sit formally, as straight-backed as a soldier. "No, thank you."</div>' 'sibella_discusses_shepherds'>><<setloyal +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Decline politely. "I prefer standing, thank you."</div>' 'sibella_discusses_shepherds'>><<setcourage +1>><<setloyal -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Remain standing. "I don't expect this to take long, so I don't need to sit."</div>' 'sibella_discusses_shepherds'>><<setcourage +1>><<setcompassionate -1>><<setcharisma -1>><<setcroelle +1>><<setloyal -1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

She watches you for another moment. "Well," she begins, visibly seeming to change tack, "while my initial interest was about this case, I think its results speak to a larger pattern I would like to speak to you about. <<nobr>><<if $riegarkernefate is "arrested">> The arrest of two Vice Guards over a tree is just the beginning of it. <<elseif $riegarkernefate is "executed">> The execution of two Vice Guards over a tree is just the beginning of it. <<elseif $riegarkernefate is "fired">> The firing of two Vice Guards over a tree is just the beginning of it. <<else>> Your inability to quell the unrest in the Elven Quarter is just the beginning of it. <</if>><</nobr>> I had hoped to discuss your performance in private, but…" She flicks a glance at Croelle. "If the High Inquisitor insists on staying, who am I to stop him?" Your shoulders stiffen, and you sneak a glance at Croelle, whose face remains hardened and harsh with dislike and wariness. What is this? If she originally planned on Leashing you or casting the geas, she now is seemingly deciding not to do so due to Croelle's presence: he was right that she isn't willing to take the risk in front of such a powerful and canny witness. But does this unexpected line of questioning mean she had a backup plan in store for you all along? <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if ($intelligence >= 50) and ($charisma >= 55)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"With all due respect, Lady De Vespe, you are not my commanding officer. I would discuss my performance with you no more than a Vice Guard would hold such a review with a Minister of Trade."</div>' 'autogenerated_686203'>><<setcharisma +1>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I don't really care to hear your opinion, to be frank. I don't know you. Who are you to judge me or my performance?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686204'>><<setcourage +1>><<setcompassionate -1>><<setcroelle +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Your letter said this would only be a meeting about what happened in the Elven Quarter—and now you want to change the subject? I'm starting to feel a little ambushed here."</div>' 'autogenerated_686205'>><<setreputation -1>><<setcunning -1>><<setcroelle -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Say nothing and let her speak.</div>' 'sibella_reveals_information'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"It's High Court Mystic De Vespe," she corrects, smiling in such a way that it feels as if you've fallen into some sort of trap. "And if you truly don't believe that my position—that of overseeing all magical activity in the land—doesn't afford me an opinion on the activities of the Shepherds, that is your choice. But I think you'll still want to hear what I have to say." <<include 'sibella_reveals_information'>>

She smiles in such a way that it feels as if you've fallen into some sort of trap. "I am the High Court Mystic," she says sweetly, almost cooing it. "Overseer of all magical activity in the land, by order of the glorious Autarch himself. If you truly don't believe that position affords me an opinion on the activities of the Shepherds, or of the so-called <i>Hero of Haven</i>"—here she sports an expression like she just swallowed something bitter—"that is your choice. But I think you'll still want to hear what I have to say." <<include 'sibella_reveals_information'>>

De Vespe smiles in such a way that it feels as if you've fallen into some sort of trap. "I was under the impression that you were some great hero," she coos, in a sickly-sweet tone that makes your stomach roil. "That a simple change in subject would unsettle you so… Well. I suppose the ways of the Sun Court must be terribly unnerving to those who aren't equipped to navigate them. Yet another reason why we ought to examine your performance." <<include 'sibella_reveals_information'>>

She leans back and unlocks a hidden drawer in her elegant rosewood desk, withdrawing a sheaf of papers so thin and translucent they look as if they're made of dragonfly wings; Shery would sigh to look at them. So even the parchment used in the Sun Court is obscenely expensive. "The Autarch, may glory anoint his steps always, has thus far permitted the Shepherds to maintain the… unusual liberties his mother permitted during her long illness," Sibella begins, drawing each paper out of its bundle one by one and splaying each across the table like she's fanning a winning deck of cards. "He has turned his attentions to other issues as he cements his ascension to the throne… but as his trusted advisor, I took it upon myself to look at your Order more closely. And what I found was… very interesting. If any of it were to reach the wrong… or right… ears, I imagine the damage to the Shepherds might prove unsalvageable. Certainly your own position and actions would be called into question." She gives a liquid kind of shrug. "I am still considering what the best course of action here would be." Dread forms a hard rock in the pit of your stomach. You try not to stare too obviously at her sheaf of papers. "What are you talking about?" "Oh, I'm not even sure where to begin." She says it pleasantly, even warmly, as if pondering how best to extol the virtues of a local tea parlor or high-end restaurant to you. She shifts some papers around. "Let's see… <<nobr>><<if $troubleequalist is true>> Let's start with your Vice-Commander. It was never disclosed to the Autarchy that he was part of a radical cult… the very one that was kidnapping those children last year. The Equalists. <i>You</i> may believe he's reformed, but the public—and the Autarch himself—could hardly be blamed if they drew the conclusion that he was potentially some sort of spy or mole for a group of extremist Mage occultists, especially given his unsettling mutant powers. There would surely be calls for him to resign from <<if $troubletime >= 2>> his position. That's not even to speak of his record as a former gang member and local thug—he was even arrested a few months ago for assault and disruption of the peace, I see." She shakes her head slowly. "A tiger can't change his stripes, clearly." <<else>> his position." <</if>> <br><br> You feel heat instantly fill your lungs. You want to shout, <i>He's a victim of the Equalists, not one of them!</i> But Croelle sends you a quelling look; acknowledging any truth in De Vespe's claims can only hurt you, not help you. <br><br> Sibella turns back to her papers. "Who else? <</if>><</nobr>> Ah, yes, Tallys Ironwood, a regular member of several Elven rebel groups across the years; her clan was discovered to have been stealing from rural Norm farmers, wasn't it? I think some ugly questions might arise about why such a criminal has been given such high command of a supposedly-legitimate military organization." She scoffs. "And that's not even to touch on the <i>other</i> criminals who have infiltrated your order's ranks, down to its core. We need not speak of Blade Bronwyn, the assassin whom the late Autarch pardoned herself—but she certainly did not know about the other unsavory elements he chose to recruit to your cause, without fully reporting their nature to her ministers. Chase Trinaeste, the leader of Thieves Guild? I'd estimate a significant part of your Order is comprised of his lowlife pickpockets and thieves. Their victims—nobles and commoners alike—would surely not be happy to hear that the gang that has terrorized Haven for so long has been rewarded for their life of crime with salaries paid straight from the taxpayers' pockets." She keeps going. "Then there's Liefred Antiqua and his cabal of illegal Mages: they were running an entire school, against the explicit laws and edicts of the Autarchy, for several years before joining the Shepherds. They are fugitives the Inquisitors should have caught and executed decades ago. That such a dangerous group of free-wielding apostates with no respect for the law have been offered safe harbor, rather than rightful punishment, is sure to raise some questions about the Shepherds' commitment to their state-sanctioned creed. Enik himself won't be pleased to hear the truth of that." She turns some more pages, idly. "Other criminals include Ayla Aescar, Briony Stormbreaker—both of whom also used magic freely and illegally prior to joining the Shepherds, and whom have been observed publicly imbibing <i>after</i> doing so, as well. <<nobr>><<if ($punishebert is true) or ($punishebertmore is true)>> And here I have one witness who claims that Riel Syndran abused his position as Guildmaster of the Merchants Guild to wrongfully fire a merchant, ruining the man's life merely to curry favor with the Shepherds—whom Syndran promptly left his own guild for, in an exceedingly-suspicious move. <</if>><</nobr>><<nobr>><<if $sherytime >= 1>> And even your own quartermaster dabbles with unstudied magical artifacts that she has no way of understanding, even distributing them as token gifts. <</if>><</nobr>> All extremely questionable behavior, at best, and provable felonies at worst. All reasons to remove each of these people from their current positions." She levels you with a cold, hypnotic look. "This is to say nothing of you, <<c rank>> <<c surname>>," she says, drawing out each word. "Even leaving aside the Elven tree, your service record as a Shepherd is not as spotless as the public might like to believe. <<nobr>><<if ($prihinedead is true) or ($bothdead is true)>> You allowed your charge, Prihine Naveen, to be killed by Endarkened under your watch. <</if>><</nobr>> <<nobr>><<if $inquisitors is true>> You openly clashed with Inquisitors who were pursuing their sacred duty to weed out sedition in Ashtown. <</if>><</nobr>> <<nobr>><<if $chaseinvestigation is true>> You allied yourself with blackguards and criminals at every turn. <</if>><</nobr>> <<nobr>><<if $savemekduk is true>> You evidently risked lives to shelter a Tainted creature, the very thing you are sworn to destroy. <</if>><</nobr>> <<nobr>><<if $lockwood is not "norms">> You sided with eldritch invaders rather than the good townsfolk they were terrorizing in Lockwood. <</if>><</nobr>> <<nobr>><<if $thurlmercy is true>> You granted a serial killer mercy, leading to his escape from the Ashen Vault. <</if>><</nobr>> <<nobr>><<if $hierophantdead is true>> I even have reason to suspect you might be responsible for the death of the Western Hierophant. <</if>><</nobr>> <<nobr>><<if $riegarkernefate is "arrested">> And now two Vice Guards are in prison because of you—all for the sake of a tree. <<elseif $riegarkernefate is "executed">> And now two Vice Guards are dead because of you—all for the sake of a tree. <<else>> And now two decorated Vice Guards are penniless because of you—all for the sake of a tree. <</if>><</nobr>> If any of this were to get out, how many would question your judgment… or your loyalty to protecting the public?" She shakes her head. "And that's not to even speak of your strange origins. It would be all too easy for me to seed that story in just the right way… how you just so happen to be only survivor of the disaster that struck your birthplace, which mysteriously disappeared without a trace. Many could be guided to the conclusion that <i>you</i> were the cause of that disappearance, and that their so-called Hero of Haven's intentions and character are not as pure as they would like to believe." A dead, ringing silence fills the office as she stops talking and gazes at you with some level of self-satisfaction. You feel as if the air has been sucked from your lungs, from the very room itself. Something dark and red threatens to overtake your thoughts like a tide as your heart rate climbs within your chest. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $courage >= 50>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Spit in Sibella's face.</div>' 'autogenerated_686206'>><<setcourage +5>><<setintelligence -5>><<setcunning -5>><<setcroelle +2>><<setbriony +3>><</link>><</if>> <<if $courage < 50>><div class="inactive-item">Spit in Sibella's face.</div><</if>> <<if ($courage >= 60) and ($strength >= 50)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Lunge across the desk and attempt to throttle her.</div>' 'autogenerated_686207'>><<setcourage +5>><<setintelligence -5>><<setcunning -5>><<setcroelle +1>><<setstrength +3>><<setreputation -1>><<setriel -5>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($courage < 60) or ($strength < 50)>><div class="inactive-item">Lunge across the desk and attempt to throttle her.</div><</if>> <<if ($charisma >= 65) and ($intelligence >= 40)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Stand in stoic, composed silence, giving no sign of your internal feelings.</div>' 'autogenerated_686208'>><<setriel +3>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($charisma < 65) or ($intelligence < 40)>><div class="inactive-item">Stand in stoic, composed silence, giving no sign of your internal feelings.</div><</if>> <<if $intelligence >= 40>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Take a deep breath and try to settle your thoughts.</div>' 'autogenerated_686209'>><<setriel +1>><<setintelligence +2>><</link>><</if>> <<if $intelligence < 40>><div class="inactive-item">Take a deep breath and try to settle your thoughts.</div><</if>> <<if ($courage >= 30) and ($charisma >= 60)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Laugh in her face. "That's your best shot?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686210'>><<setlavinet +1>><<setcourage +1>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($courage < 30) or ($charisma < 60)>><div class="inactive-item">Laugh in her face. "That's your best shot?"</div><</if>> <<if (($charisma >= 65) and ($cunning >= 60)) and ($courage >= 50)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Call her bluff. "I haven't tried to hide any of this. Who cares if it gets out?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686211'>><<setcunning +1>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>><</if>> <<if (($charisma < 65) or ($cunning < 60)) or ($courage < 50)>><div class="inactive-item">Call her bluff. "I haven't tried to hide any of this. Who cares if it gets out?"</div><</if>> <<if ($cunning >= 65) and ($charisma >= 50)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Lie. "I don't know where you got your information from, but it's all patently false. You need to check your sources."</div>' 'autogenerated_686212'>><<setcunning +3>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($cunning < 65) or ($charisma < 50)>><div class="inactive-item">Lie. "I don't know where you got your information from, but it's all patently false. You need to check your sources."</div><</if>> <<if $reputation >= 75>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"The Shepherds have built a strong reputation and goodwill among the people. None of this would change their minds about us."</div>' 'autogenerated_686213'>><<setcharisma +1>><<setloyal +1>><<setcourage +1>><</link>><</if>> <<if $reputation < 75>><div class="inactive-item">"The Shepherds have built a strong reputation and goodwill among the people. None of this would change their minds about us."</div><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Glance frantically at Croelle, trying not to panic.</div>' 'sibella_croelle_speaks'>><<setcroelle -2>><<setreputation -2>><<setintelligence -2>><<setcunning -2>><<setcharisma -2>><<setcourage -2>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $brionyromanceflag >= 5>> <<set $brionyromanceflag += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> You gather up a neat wad of saliva, lean forward, and spit it into Sibella's right eye. The Court Mystic stiffens and gasps, recoiling quickly from you—but then that ice-cold courtier's composure descends like an iron curtain. Her face is calm and expressionless as she reaches into a pocket and carefully wipes your saliva off of her face with a snowy, lace-frilled handkerchief. Croelle doesn't move, standing at his ease with almost a bored, languid stance—but from the tiny exhale he makes, you think he might be amused. "Well," Sibella drawls, patting delicately at her face with a soft powder-puff now, "they always say the Diminished outside of the Sun Court are back-bred savages. It's interesting to see the living proof." "You took that well," you inform her in a bright tone. "Maybe you're used to that treatment from your torture victims in the Chrysalis." Sibella glares at you, but for the moment has no retort. Unfortunately, you can see the wheels turning in her head as she keeps her focus on the current predicament she's trapped you in. <<include 'sibella_croelle_speaks'>>

<<nobr>><<if ($gender is "male") and ($lavinetromanceflag >= 5)>> <<set $lavinetromanceflag -= 1>> <</if>><</nobr>><<nobr>><<if ($gender is "male") and ($rielromanceflag >= 5)>> <<set $rielromanceflag -= 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> Before Sibella can react, you're scrambling across her desk, your arms outstretched so you can wrap your hands around her throat—consequences be damned. Before you get any farther, however, you feel the foreign touch of someone else's mind seizing yours, as fast as a Khehi-Ket plucking an arrow out of the air… and then you're frozen, paralyzed and insensate. Your mind seems to fizz out, dumping all ability to process, register, or think… <<include 'sibella_attack_aftermath5'>>

<<nobr>><<if ($gender is "male") and ($rielromanceflag >= 5)>> <<set $rielromanceflag += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> Sibella watches you with interest, giving you the distinct feeling of being a rodent trapped in a cage while a malevolent child ponders exactly how to torment it. <<include 'sibella_croelle_speaks'>>

Sibella watches you with interest, giving you the distinct feeling of being a rodent trapped in a cage while a malevolent child ponders exactly how to torment it. <<include 'sibella_croelle_speaks'>>

<<nobr>><<if $lavinetromanceflag >= 5>> <<set $lavinetromanceflag += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> "Ordinary blackmail?" you taunt. "I would have expected more finesse from you, De Vespe. This is so… <i>obvious</i>." "The straightest arrow flies the surest," De Vespe returns sweetly, batting her coal-dark lashes. "And your confidence is charming, but it seems to stem from a lack of foresightedness. This"—she taps her papers—"would prove extremely damaging for you. Perhaps some of the uneducated yokels in the city would maintain support for you, but there are plenty of civilians who are still either neutral, skeptical, or outright hostile towards the Shepherds—and for them, this kind of information, especially presented in the narratives my agents would insinuate, would certainly spark an outcry. It would mire your Order in incredible inconvenience as you battled the public for its cooperation. And in the meantime, your many enemies—political rivals, Sun Courtiers, the Vice Guard, the Inquisition—would take advantage of the chaos to push for censure, for reprehensions and punitive measures. You forget the Autarch is not as forgiving as his mother is. With the amount of outrage and fear that would stem from these revelations, it would be very easy for your opponents indeed to pressure him to remove you, your inner circle, and everyone you cared about—perhaps even arrest them—and replace them with more palatable, loyal figureheads. It would spell the end of the Shepherds as you know it." <<include 'sibella_croelle_speaks'>>

"You should," De Vespe says innocently. "Perhaps some of the uneducated yokels in the city would maintain support for you, but there are plenty of civilians who are still either neutral, skeptical, or outright hostile towards the Shepherds—and for them, this kind of information, especially presented in the narratives my agents would insinuate, would certainly spark an outcry. It would mire your Order in incredible inconvenience as you battled the public for its cooperation. And in the meantime, your many enemies—political rivals, Sun Courtiers, the Vice Guard, the Inquisition—would take advantage of the chaos to push for censure, for reprehensions and punitive measures. You forget the Autarch is not as forgiving as his mother is. With the amount of outrage and fear that would stem from these revelations, it would be very easy for your opponents indeed to pressure him to remove yourself, your inner circle, and everyone you cared about—perhaps even arrest them—and replace them with more palatable, loyal figureheads. It would spell the end of the Shepherds as you know it." <<include 'sibella_croelle_speaks'>>

De Vespe raises an artfully-manicured brow. "I doubt that," she all but purrs, "but even if that were true, by the time things were cleared up, the damage will have already been done. If there's one thing I know, it's that yokels and gossip-mongers never bother to question the accuracy of what they're told. By the time they're informed they have gotten things wrong, it's really too late to change their minds. Whoever tells the story first is already the winner." <<include 'sibella_croelle_speaks'>>

"Your optimism is charming," De Vespe says in a fawning tone. "Perhaps some of the uneducated yokels in the city would maintain support for you, but there are plenty of civilians who are still either neutral, skeptical, or outright hostile towards the Shepherds—and for them, this kind of information, especially presented in the narratives my agents would insinuate, would certainly spark an outcry. It would mire your Order in incredible inconvenience as you battled the public for its cooperation. And in the meantime, your many enemies—political rivals, Sun Courtiers, the Vice Guard, the Inquisition—would take advantage of the chaos to push for censure, for reprehensions and punitive measures. You forget the Autarch is not as forgiving as his mother is. With the amount of outrage and fear that would stem from these revelations, it would be very easy for your opponents indeed to pressure him to remove yourself, your inner circle, and everyone you cared about—perhaps even arrest them—and replace them with more palatable, loyal figureheads. It would spell the end of the Shepherds as you know it." <<include 'sibella_croelle_speaks'>>

<<page_break "Next" "sibella_attack_aftermath">>

When you next blink, you look around and find yourself standing next to Croelle again, a healthy distance between you and De Vespe, who is rubbing her throat and arranging her skirts in an effort to regain her composure. <i>What just happened?</i> Croelle, who made no move to stop you, drawls in a bored tone, "The High Court Mystic is one of the most powerful Enchanters alive, and has many additional layers of protection on her as a result of her position. If you think it'd be that easy to harm her, you're a fool." "You don't feel inclined to arrest $them, High Inquisitor?" Sibella asks, a bit tartly. "Attacking a minister of the Sun Court is an act of treason." Croelle raises his brows. "Is that what you want?" he asks, deadpan. "I was under the impression you were in the process of blackmailing $them—not really a point to that if $she<<nobr>><<if $plural is true>>'re<<else>>'s<</if>><</nobr>> imprisoned. And, of course, if I arrest $them, I'll have to report to the Autarch exactly what happened before $she attacked you, including what was said. I imagine you don't want that." De Vespe scowls and looks away, carefully smoothing down her hair. When she meets your eye, you shake off her psionic grasp on your thoughts as irritably as a horse brushing away a cloud of flies, re-closing the distance between yourself and her desk. Although she attempts to look indifferent, you think she leans slightly away from you, her dark eyes darting once towards the door. <<include "sibella_croelle_speaks">>

"So it's blackmail," Croelle says, appearing largely indifferent to the goings-on. "But clearly you've withheld this information from the public for a reason, De Vespe. You'd rather leverage it to get something out of <<c surname>> rather than drop the bomb, detonate the Shepherds, and have to clean the whole mess up yourself afterwards. They are good at mowing down demons, which you are not." Sibella flicks a gloved hand, as if his very presence were an unpleasant odor. "You wound me with your accusations, High Inquisitor. I am merely informing <<c rank>> <<c surname>> of what I know, as a professional courtesy. It's troubling on all fronts, I'm sure, and I am merely a concerned party, doing my duty as High Court Mystic to address the problems I see before they lead to disaster." She smiles coyly at you, her dark eyes glittering. "Hopefully we can put our heads together and reach some sort of solution that benefits us both. We all want a functioning defense force against the Endarkened, after all." "What do you want?" you grate out. Sibella de Vespe laces her gloved hands together, leaning forward on her elbows. You notice suddenly that a large black flower brooch—nightshade?—is pinned to her crimson dress, and a twining silver snake winds its way around her middle finger. "It's quite simple, <<c rank>>," Sibella states. "I want command of the Shepherds. <<nobr>><<if $rank is not "Commander">> I know that there's a position open: Commander-Legate, I believe? You'll help the others understand the… necessity of me taking that position. There will be no resistance. Not if we want to keep this information between us." <<else>> I want to be a commander. I don't care which one: I'll leave it up to you to decide. And you'll help the others understand the… necessity of me taking that position. There will be no resistance. Not if we want to keep this information between us." <</if>><</nobr>> She casts another significant look at the papers spelling out your friends' unsettling predicaments. You clench your jaw. <<include "sibellabobilla">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("sibellabobilla1")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"The Tower will never accept you. How can you be commander if you're not even allowed into our base?"</div>' 'sibellabobilla1'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("sibellabobilla2")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Even if you replaced us all, the rank and file will never accept you as a leader. There will be wide-scale revolt if you try to force your way in."</div>' 'sibellabobilla2'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("sibellabobilla3")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"What's to stop me from reporting this to the Autarch? He won't be happy to hear that you're blackmailing me behind his back."</div>' 'sibellabobilla3'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("sibellabobilla4")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Why do you even want command of the Shepherds, anyway? You're High Court Mystic. Surely you have higher ambitions."</div>' 'sibellabobilla4'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("sibellabobilla5")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"There's no way I can convince the others to accept this."</div>' 'sibellabobilla5'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You have nothing further to say.</div>' 'sibellabobilla_end'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"You'll find a way," Sibella answers silkily. "You know the stakes, so I have no doubt you and your inventive little renegades will be able to devise something. And even if you don't…" She makes an airy gesture that encompasses her dark, florid office. "The Grand General of the Central Army doesn't have to visit every military base under his purview to hold ultimate command over those ranks, does he? I can rule the Shepherds just as easily from here." <<include "sibellabobilla">>

"I think not," Sibella simpers. "I am… very persuasive. Once you clear the way for me, they'll see things my way and bend the knee soon enough." <<include "sibellabobilla">>

Sibella shrugs. "If you tell him, he'll ask exactly what material I have on you," she answers. "At which point we'll be exactly where you don't want to be. Once he finds out just what you Shepherds have really been up to—and what kind of people you've been hiring and endorsing—<i>your</i> crimes will far outweigh mine in his mind." <<include "sibellabobilla">>

Sibella laughs prettily. "That's for me to worry about, pet," she says in that sugary tone you're beginning to loathe. "Don't trouble yourself over things beyond your reckoning." <<include "sibellabobilla">>

Sibella's brows arch. "No?" she says. "You are the Hero of Haven, after all, their mascot, spokesperson, and beacon. They'll do anything you say. And even if they don't… Well. You're quite the tenacious sort. You've bested so many obstacles so far that I have no doubt you'll be able to figure something out." <<include "sibellabobilla">>

Sibella nods towards the office door. "Then if that's all, I'll leave you to mull your options over. I think a day should give you enough time to arrive to a conclusion: you can send me a letter informing me of your decision before noon tomorrow. In the meantime, my schedule is very busy today, so regrettably, we must part ways for now." She sends a look of distaste towards Croelle. "I suppose, High Inquisitor, that you could thwart both of our plans by reporting directly to the Autarch yourself, and eliminating both of us in one fell swoop. But given the fact that you troubled yourself to… accompany <<c rank>> <<c surname>> here…" She casts a coy, knowing glance towards you. "Somehow I doubt you will do so." She tilts her dark head in clear dismissal. "A good day to you both." <<page_break "..." "sibellabobilla_corridor">>

Before you can even register what's going on, you're summarily ushered out of Sibella de Vespe's office and deposited back into the sumptuous marble corridor outside, the door clicking politely shut behind you. The others were waiting just beyond the doors: Riel was pacing with his walking stick, as tense and sharp-shouldered as a soldier standing guard, while Lavinet and Briony were waiting on a wooden bench seemingly situated there for that purpose, the former sitting with her skirts neatly arranged and her mien composed but intense with concentration, while the latter was fairly rocking back and forth in her seat, clearly resisting the urge to bite her nails in discomfiture. They jump up at the sight of you, hurrying forward to crowd you with questions—but Croelle suddenly interposes a black-gloved hand between you, cutting it through the air to ward off any conversation as sharply as a guillotine. He jerks his head to indicate that you should follow him, presumably to somewhere you won't be overheard, and after several minutes of navigating more labyrinthine corridors and alcoves, he leads you to a pair of unusual doors made of frosted glass and inlaid with metal ornamentation resembling dangling leaves and vines. Beyond the doors is a miraculous indoor courtyard enclosed by a large glass dome, sunlight slanting down through it and playing along the tiled mosaics underfoot as if you're underwater. The courtyard is warm and humid, and fashioned to resemble some kind of tropical rainforest, arrayed with dazzling, colorful blooms, exotic trees, and heavy-leafed ferns. Bright, jewel-like birds flit from branch to branch overhead, their voices raised in fluting birdsong, while somewhere in the shadow of the ferns, you can hear the bubbling murmur of running water. The air is fragrant with—certainly magically-created—heat and the scents of birdseed, nectar, and intoxicating flowers. <<nobr>><<if $specialization is "wild">> Some of the birds even sense the brush of your magic and come winging down to perch on your shoulders, nibbling curiously on your collar and hair in greeting. <</if>><</nobr>> Beside you, Briony catches her breath. "Oh, what a <i>wonder</i>," she breathes, looking around with clear awe. Lavinet surveys the display more coolly. "An aviary," she observes. "I presume all the doors are kept closed so the birds don't escape? That means we won't be eavesdropped on without our knowing." Croelle grunts. "I wouldn't be so sure of that," he says. "The Sun Court has its eyes and ears everywhere; it can usually find a way if it has a mind to. But no one is <i>expecting</i> us to be here, so we should be safe for the moment. We don't have much time, though, so make it short." The others turn expectantly to you, listening as you launch into what just occurred in De Vespe's office. You've barely even touched on her demanding a title as commander before Briony gives a cry of outrage and exclaims, "That sharmooti <i>bitch</i>!" "So it's blackmail rather than outright Leashing," Riel says, putting a pensive hand to his chin. "Hm. It seems a bit too overt for an Enchanter known for her subterfuge and magical manipulation, but perhaps we forced her hand early. She certainly did not expect you to show up with…" He glances at Croelle with the skepticism of a wealthy merchant whose children have brought a stray dog into the house. "…such an ally. Either way, though, she's backed us into an interesting corner." "Interesting is a word for it," you mutter. "This can't be allowed to stand," Lavinet announces tightly. "We cannot allow her to take control of the Shepherds, but neither can we let that information get out." "How did that information even <i>get</i> out?" you ask. "Could there be a spy in the Shepherds?" Riel frowns. "I would think not," he says. "I was always under the impression that a recruit joining up for illicit purposes—such as to spy on the Shepherds and provide information about us to our enemies—would be barred from entry by the Tower wards." "What if she turned them <i>after</i> they signed up?" Briony asks. "What if their intentions were originally good, or they still <i>believe</i> they're not really harming anyone, just passing along a bit of gossip in exchange for a little extra gold? Would the wards flag them then?" "It's not a spy," Croelle interjects then, idly. He crosses his powerful arms, still maintaining that peculiar mixture of boredom, irritation, and disdain. "At least, the spy isn't one of <i>you</i>. I would know: Sibella's intelligence network doesn't hold a candle to my own, and if there was an officer who was willing to be threatened or bribed into giving that kind of information freely, I would have found them first. But such a spy wouldn't even really be that necessary, you know. Your recruits blab all manner of gossip and business over drinks when they go out to the taverns. All she had to do was plant some agents in the common bars and have them eavesdrop without even needing to directly interact. She would have put the pieces together easily enough." Briony curses under her breath. "This information came from the <i>recruits</i>? They're not supposed to be discussing details like that out in the open!" "You can hardly bar them from gossiping," Riel says then, with a tinge of waspishness. "It's not as if they're discussing confidential mission details: they're simply engaging in run-of-the-mill speculation and hearsay. All it takes is for some braggart to refer to Red's group as 'those Circle Mages' or to talk about 'Chase and his thieves' or to ask if the Vice-Commander really got tossed in jail the other day for a capable spy to piece together the information through context." He shakes his head. "This problem isn't very preventable, unless you're willing to either confine officers to the compound during their off-days or send them out with supervision—neither of which seem like tenable, long-term solutions." "Well, if it's not all that preventable, maybe we just take the brunt of it now?" the former gladiator asks nervously. "You make it sound as if it's bound to happen at some point anyway. Maybe we just let De Vespe leak the information and get it over with at once, deal with the consequences now and then ensure no one has anything to hold over us in the future?" "They won't have anything to hold over you because you'll be dead or dismissed," Croelle says brutally. "You don't know how good Sibella is at warping people's minds and twisting narratives, even without magic. Maybe if it were someone else, you could weather the storm and come out with only a few bruises—but not her. She will use this information to oust you if you let her." He shifts, his left hand clenching as if longing to close around a weapon. "Your only hope is to eliminate her, take away her power before she has a chance to use it against you. Now. Today." <<page_break "Next" "sibellabobilla_aviary">>

To her credit, Lavinet hardly bats at an eye at the accelerated timeline. "I think he's right," she says, tapping her closed fan against her mouth in a sharp gesture of decision. "We need to move today: any later, and she'll anticipate our intentions and move to counter them. She'll think we're so distraught that we have to give time and thought to our dilemma before delivering a decision to her tomorrow; she won't be expecting us to move against her so soon." "But how exactly do we move against her?" Briony asks, voicing aloud what you're all thinking. Riel glances again to Croelle. "I don't suppose you have anything we can use," he says with tart sardonicism. "Some piece of information that would bring down Sibella de Vespe once and for all?" Croelle all but rolls his eyes. "If I did, I would have used it long before it got to this point," he returns, the bite in his words enough to draw blood. "All I know is that it has to be something huge. Unforgivable. She's deep in Enik's good graces—maybe even deeper than that, if rumors are to be believed. It will take more than my word to topple her." "What does that mean?" Riel presses. "Is there anyone who Enik trusts more than her?" Croelle tilts his chin, his golden eyes burning in his pale face as he stares unreadably at you for a moment. Then he says, "Outside of his late mother, I can only think of one person who could counsel Enik into going against his instincts and getting rid of De Vespe. Phelan Arameri, his Right Hand. He's been Enik's priest, mentor, and makeshift uncle since Enik was a knee-high whelp. He wants to make the man the Continent's first Central Hierophant, breaking orthodoxy for the first time in one hundred years. Arameri's counsel is what made Enik such a hardline reformer and zealous Inquisitor—and if that man speaks against De Vespe, Enik will have to listen." Lavinet looks as if she was already expecting this. "He was the gentleman sitting to Enik's right during the session earlier," she tells you; you nod, recalling the older man with coarse, gray hair raked severely back on his head and the slightly vulturous, beak-nosed build. "But we can't simply approach the man and ask him to denounce De Vespe as a simple favor to us, perfect strangers, '<i>if you please</i>'—we need something to convince him to speak to Enik about it, some sort of evidence to compel him to our side. And even then, we might need the support of others as well, to apply additional pressure and help seal the deal. It will force both Sir Phelan and Enik both to act rather than simply wave our petition away. They may be able to dismiss us and sweep our accusations under the rug, but they can't very well ignore the word of a dozen prominent Sun Courtiers—<i>if</i> we can convince those courtiers to publicly back our maneuver." You look at Croelle. "You mentioned before that whatever thing we dredged up on De Vespe would have to be unforgivable. How unforgivable exactly?" Croelle shrugs. "Evidence of treason. Or demonic possession." Riel makes a thoughtful noise. "Treason may not be so hard to uncover," he says. "She is, after all, moving to undermine us behind Enik's back and against his explicit wishes. There are surely other things she's been doing that he wouldn't be happy to hear about." "You just need to find out what those things are," Croelle says. Now his tone is the sardonic one. "Good luck with that; she covers her tracks well. So well that I haven't been able to uncover anything myself." He glances at you again. "But maybe others will be willing to divulge information to you that they won't to me. You seem to have a talent for that sort of thing." Briony is pulling nervously on her pink hair, chewing her lip in thought. "It's still risky, though," she muses aloud, her brow knit. "It would be relying entirely on our ability to… to politic, and to extract information from Sun Court nobles without any of them thinking to tip <i>her</i> off. And we don't even know if they'll give us anything near good enough to get this Arameri or the Autarch to take action. I wish there was something surer." She suddenly gives a sharp, brittle laugh. "You're sure she isn't possessed by an Endarkened? We could arrest her if she was." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $darktome is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Something has been bubbling in your mind ever since the conversation first started. It might be difficult to prove possession where it doesn't actually exist, but if Sibella were to be caught with demonic contraband... say, a very illegal dark tome...</div>' 'sibellabobilla_darktome'>><<setcroelle +1>><<setriel -1>><<setlavinet -1>><<setbriony -2>><<setcunning +3>><<setcourage +1>><<set $discussdarktome to true>><</link>><</if>> <<if $darktome is false>><div class="inactive-item">Something has been bubbling in your mind ever since the conversation first started. It might be difficult to prove possession where it doesn't actually exist, but if Sibella were to be caught with demonic contraband... say, a very illegal dark tome...</div><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"It may be risky, but it's all we've got for the moment. I say we talk to some people and see what we can unearth."</div>' 'croellegoodbye'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"Well," you begin slowly, "about that…" They all listen, looking slightly blank with shock, as you detail the arcane tome that you pilfered from the Equalists' hideout so long ago. There is no question that that book is total anathema to the Autarchy: anyone caught in possession of it would undoubtedly be accused of consorting with Endarkened or studying vile black magic of the worst kind—or both. If officers of the Sun Court were to find such an object in Sibella De Vespe's rooms, it would look extremely damning for her… "You've been carrying something like that with you all this time?" Riel asks in a low, sharp tone—though you think his blue eyes glitter with an ill-concealed interest. "You realize that if you'd been caught with that, you could have been executed? Our whole order might have been damned. In fact…" He eyes Croelle warily. "An Inquisitor could have dragged you off to the Chrysalis for it." "And as former Grand Inquisitor, Enik will find such a thing especially revolting," you respond calmly. "It's the exact thing he wouldn't be able to forgive—not if he wants to go against every cause, principle, and conviction he's dedicated his life toward." You glance at Croelle, who looks indifferent. "Besides, I think if I was meant to be dragged off to the Chrysalis, it would have happened by now. For better or worse, we seem to be on the same side in this. And if we're not… there are still four of us against one. We could simply deny this conversation ever took place." Croelle grunts. "Bigger fish to fry," he drawls. "I don't care enough at the moment to go ratting you out for heresy. But don't make the mistake of thinking we're allies, either. This is a temporary cooperation borne of convenience: nothing more. Once De Vespe is out of the way, we go our separate ways. Don't expect to be calling on me for any favors after this." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Fair enough."</div>' 'sibellabobilla_darktome_response'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Aw, but I thought we were going to be friends and braid each other's hair."</div>' 'sibellabobilla_darktome_response'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Same here. I can barely stand working with you now."</div>' 'sibellabobilla_darktome_response'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Lavinet looks pensive, as if she's sketching the whole plan out in her mind. "Could you find a way to plant the tome in Sibella's items without being caught?" she asks him. Croelle gives a flinty smile. "Easily." "But this is the Sun Court, and they're used to such tactics," she continues in a murmur. A bird lands on her skirt, pecking brightly at a jewel sewn into the fabric, and she scarcely notices it. "She could easily claim that it was planted: it wouldn't be such a far-fetched story, not here. We'd need more. Witness statements, a signed petition of perhaps a half-dozen nobles who could all provide some sort of confirmation that Sibella <i>had</i> been using the tome—even just the implication that they'd seen her holding it, or noticed her behaving suspiciously…" "So we'd be asking them to lie?" Briony asks uneasily. "I mean, I'm sure <i>they</i> wouldn't mind, lying's what they do for fun—no offense, Lavi—but would they be brave enough to go through with it, if it's the Autarch they're lying to?" "They would if the Inquisitors didn't drill them on the details," Croelle says idly. "Which they wouldn't." The pink-haired fighter looks around at your calculating, resolute faces. "And—are <i>we</i> sure we want to take that step? We… did take an oath as Shepherds, after all. Colluding with false witnesses to create a lie so we could arrest someone for consorting with demons feels…" She trails off uncertainly. "Not… great?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"This is Sibella's fault. She forced our hand. It's only the natural consequences of her actions."</div>' 'briony_response'>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setloyal -3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"If it's a choice between lying and dying, I'll choose lying every time."</div>' 'briony_response'>><<setcunning +3>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setloyal -5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Think of all of the people she's enslaved, Shackled, or Leashed. Don't waste your sympathy on her."</div>' 'better_briony_response'>><<setbriony +1>><</link>> <<if $tovrikkill is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"If we were going strictly by our oaths, Tovrik wouldn't be dead. Sometimes you have to evaluate things on a case-by-case basis."</div>' 'better_briony_response2'>><<setintelligence +1>><<setcharisma +1>><<setbriony +1>><<setcompassionate -3>><</link>><</if>> <<if $tovrikkill is false>><div class="inactive-item">"If we were going strictly by our oaths, Tovrik wouldn't be dead. Sometimes you have to evaluate things on a case-by-case basis."</div><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Maybe you're right. This could be a slippery slope we don't want to fall down."</div>' 'changemindsibella'>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setloyal +1>><<setbriony +1>><<setcroelle -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You're right. We'll find another way."</div>' 'changemindsibella'>><<setcompassionate +2>><<setloyal +2>><<setbriony +2>><<setriel -1>><<setlavinet -1>><<setcroelle -5>><<setcunning -3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Briony grimaces, but seems to concede the point. <<include "briony_concede">>

Briony grimaces, but seems to concede the point. "Not sure it's <i>sympathy</i>, exactly, but I suppose you're right…" Her expression hardens. "We've got to take her down." <<include "briony_concede">>

Briony shuts her mouth, opens it—shuts it again. Then she throws her hands in the air and mutters, "Well, damn, you've got me there." <<include "briony_concede">>

"I'm confident we could craft a narrative that could both withstand Enik's scrutiny and garner the support of some key witnesses," Riel murmurs. "Especially once the nobles are aware of exactly what we're angling for. De Vespe's meteoric rise means she'll have plenty of enemies who will be eager to see her threat eliminated. Once they ascertain what we have and the way the wind is blowing… it shouldn't be difficult to convince them to lend us their support." He looks to Lavinet. "I'm sure your skills will come in handy when it comes to…. arranging this delicately." The heiress smiles tightly. "One could say I've been preparing for this moment all my life." <<include "changemindsibella">>

Briony looks around again. "So what are we doing?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"We're going to plant this dark tome and use it as evidence against Sibella de Vespe. It's safer."</div>' 'sibellabobilla_plant_darktome'>><<setriel +5>><<setlavinet +5>><<setbriony -5>><<setcunning +5>><<setintelligence +5>><<setcroelle +5>><<setcompassionate -10>><<setloyal -5>><<setblade -1>><<settrouble -3>><<settallys +1>><<setshery -1>><<setchase +1>><<setred -1>><<setayla +1>><<sethalek -1>><<set $darktomesibella to true>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"We're going to investigate and try to uncover evidence of treason committed by Sibella de Vespe. It's more ethical."</div>' 'sibellabobilla_investigate_treason'>><<setbriony +5>><<setriel -5>><<setlavinet -3>><<setcunning -5>><<setcourage +5>><<setcompassionate +10>><<setloyal +5>><<setblade +1>><<settrouble +1>><<settallys -1>><<setshery +1>><<setchase -1>><<setred +1>><<setayla -1>><<sethalek +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

It's the best and surest weapon you have to take Sibella down, even if it isn't the most morally pure… <<include "croellegoodbye">>

It's a definite gamble and will take a lot of work, but you'll have to bank on your ability to talk to the Sun Courtiers and uncover some truth that will help you… <<include "croellegoodbye">>

Croelle is silent for the moment. "I'll leave you to it, then," he says, turning abruptly as if about to walk away. "Hold a moment," you call out, stopping him. "You're not going to help us?" He glances back over his shoulder. "I'll add my name to your list of backers when you go see Arameri with your 'findings,'" he says. "But if the Sun Courtiers see me with you, they'll be suspicious this is an Inquisition maneuver and decide to keep their mouths shut and stay out of it. You're better off if no one knows we've associated with each other." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Let it go. "See you later, then."</div>' 'croellegoodbye_letitgo'>><<setcroelle +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Press the issue. "Why <i>are</i> we associated with each other in the first place? Why did you lie about who you are?"</div>' 'croellegoodbye_press'>><<setcroelle +5>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Croelle jerks his head in acknowledgment, turns, and leaves. Riel turns and surveys the rest of you, adjusting his pin-neat tie as he does so. Although his face remains composed, his eyes glitter with calculation. "Well," he says coolly, with the air of a man who'd crack his knuckles if he didn't find such a gesture obscene, "now we get to work." <<page_break "..." "suncourtprepare25">>

Croelle looks vaguely scornful. "I never lied: I don't care about your feelings enough to lie. I simply withheld. You wouldn't have trusted me if I told you I was High Inquisitor. You certainly wouldn't have listened to what I had to say about De Vespe." "But if you've been part of the Inquisition all along…" <i>Not just a part of it, he's their <b>second-in-command</b>.</i> You frown at him. "Why are you helping us? Sibella was right: you could eliminate us both right now if you went to the Autarch and gave us <i>both</i> up: her for blackmailing the Shepherds behind his back, and us for doing the things she's blackmailing us for." You shake your head, thinking on it more. "And not only that: you say you're cooperating with us because you don't want me falling into De Vespe's hands, because she's your enemy. But you and I crossed paths long before that. You made sure I found out about the Shepherds, that first night I came to Haven. It's like you deliberately pointed me in their direction, made sure our fates intersected. <<nobr>><<if $croellesave is true>> And then, later, when I was in trouble with the Inquisitors… you called them off. Made sure they didn't drag me to the Chrysalis. Why?" <br><br> Croelle tsks impatiently. "If you'd gone to the Chrysalis, you would have fallen into <i>their</i> hands," he says. "I told you. It doesn't help me if my enemies gain an asset." <br><br> "There has to be more to it than that," you insist. <<else>> Why?" <</if>><</nobr>> Croelle is silent for a while, a black, menacing shape in the bright humid greenery of the aviary. When he doesn't speak, Lavinet adds: "If you expect us to trust you, you have to tell us something about your motives. Don't you work for the Autarch? De Vespe considers you to be a contender as his Left Hand, so he must be sure of your loyalty. How does helping <<c rank>> <<c surname>> in the way that you have serve him? As $she said, you've been interfering since before Sibella de Vespe rose to power." Riel stirs suddenly, blinking as if rousing from a dream. "Ah," he says then, quietly, thoughtfully. "I see it now. He does serve the Autarch… but <i>unwillingly</i>." The former merchant leader adjusts his cufflinks idly, then adds into the following silence: "You said you were tasked to monitor the Shepherds on behalf of a party that opposes them… but you're not exactly an enthusiastic supporter of whoever asked you to do so. Isn't that right? You may not be Leashed—I doubt you are, if you've been able to tell us this much about it—but there's something else going on here. Blackmail or threats, perhaps. They have <i>something</i> on you." Again, Croelle says nothing for a moment, but he's not looking at Riel—he's watching you. "A pawn recognizes a pawn," he acknowledges finally, leveling you with that golden, half-challenging stare. "Much as I hate it, you're right in a sense: I'm an unwilling servant to powers greater than me. So are you. So we may be on opposing sides, but that makes me liable to throw you a bone, where I can. If it was too easy, my side would win." And he doesn't want that, you realize. Though you get the feeling it's less out of principle and more that he simply wants to punish his side out of spite than because he wants to see your side triumph. "<i>A beaten dog always bites his master</i>," Riel murmurs, quoting a famous proverb. Croelle's eyes practically ignite in golden flame as he wheels on him; he takes several sharp strides towards Riel, in a stance that definitively promises violence. You tense instinctively. "What did you just say, <i>whelp</i>?" Riel doesn't even blink. "I suppose you'd prefer, '<i>The enemy of my enemy is my friend</i>.' My apologies." There's a dangerous, unsteady moment; Croelle's hand actually closes around the hilt of his sword at his right hip, to the point where Briony's hand drops to the hidden knife strapped to her thigh, and you feel your blood heat with apprehension and battle-readiness as you prepare yourself to charge. Then, scowling, Croelle turns and rips himself away from your group, disappearing into the cool green shadows of the trees without another word. <<page_break "Next" "croellegoodbye_after">>

Your group unleashes a slow, collective breath; Briony puts a hand to her chest as if to calm her fluttering heart. Lavinet says austerely to Riel, "What on earth were you thinking, provoking him in such a manner?" Riel arches one dispassionate brow, adjusting his already pin-neat tie. "I was taking his measure," he answers coolly. "Gauging a man's behavior can tell you far more about his potential trustworthiness than his words—which he was already ungenerous with in the first place." "And?" you ask. "Judging by what just happened, do you think he's trustworthy?" "Not in the least," Riel replies. "But you saw it: he still hates his captors, oppressors, what have you, more than he hates us. Else that moment would have ended in blood. We can capitalize on that, at least for the moment." He looks around at you all. "But he's a problem for another day. For now, we need to get to work." <<page_break "..." "suncourtprepare25">>

After taking some time to discuss your plan of action, your group decides to track down your likeliest allies: Lavinet already has ideas where to start. "There's an informal luncheon taking place near the Hall of Concordance," she explains as she leads you confidently through the byzantine passageways. The air feels strangely cool and arid after being enclosed in the aviary, as if you're moving through a chilly underground tomb. "There always is after a council session, for the hungry ministers and courtiers to mingle and discuss the aftermath of the proceedings. While it's not as <i>exclusive</i> as a true Sun Courtier elitist might prefer, I thought it the perfect battleground to make my debut, as well as to rally some impromptu support for the Shepherds. There are one or two people I trust in attendance that we can speak to about this… <<nobr>><<if $noblejoin is true>> And your actions in Lockwood will prove useful here, as well: you've already gained some traction and support among the nobles of Haven because of the good word being spread by the friends and relatives you impressed at my home. <</if>><</nobr>> Before we dare risk approaching High Augur Arameri, we—" She abruptly falls silent as you round a corner, hearing the sharp clicking sounds of approaching noble heels on marble. "Oh, I beg your pardon. <<nobr>><<if (($prihinesafe is true) or ($bothsafe is true)) and ($rielinvestigation is true)>> —<i>Cousin</i>?" <br><br> Your head whips up at her startled exclamation. <br><br> <<page_break "Next" "reencounterprihine">> <<else>> Oh, Lord Alystair! How good it is to see you." <br><br> <<include "romar">> <</if>><</nobr>>

There before you stands Lady Prihine Ushala, once Naveen, dressed in a slender, stately dress <<nobr>><<if $rielinvestigation is true>> of dark blue and magenta. <<else>> black. <</if>><</nobr>> If Lavinet hadn't said anything, you might have had trouble recognizing her: Prihine seems to have matured a few years since the last time you saw her, the round scowling petulance of her features now replaced by a worldlier, more self-assured mien. Her ash-blonde hair is bound up into a fetching kind of braided bun, and she's accompanied by two pretty companions you've never seen before: one her lady-in-waiting, by the looks of it, and the other one seemingly a friend of equal standing, done up in more expensive, glittering cosmetics and clothes than her counterpart. <<nobr>><<if $prihineromance is true>> You haven't seen or spoken to Prihine since the night you spent together last year, and you never would have expected to see her here and now. Although you think your expression remains calm, your heart rate quickens at the surprise of her sudden reappearance. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Glance away, embarrassed. In the light of day and under these circumstances, this is extremely awkward...</div>' 'prihine_glance_away'>><<set $prihineromanceflag -= 3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Give her a little wave and a wink, full of bravado. You had a fun night together, after all, and that's all it was.</div>' 'prihine_wave_wink'>><<setlavinet -10>><<set $prihineromanceflag -= 3>><<setriel -5>><<setcharisma +1>><<setloyal -2>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Stare at her despite yourself. Although you both knew that night was supposed to be a one-time occurrence, you've found that your feelings for Prihine have only grown since then...</div>' 'prihine_stare'>><<setbriony +1>><<set $prihineromanceflag += 5>><<setloyal -3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Remain professional and unreadable. Your feelings about this are irrelevant to the mission.</div>' 'prihine_eyes_dart'>><<setloyal +3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <<else>> <<include "prihine_eyes_dart">> <</if>> <</nobr>>

Although you busy yourself with studying the floor, you don't miss Lavinet's extremely perceptive glance as she looks between the two of you. <<include "prihine_eyes_dart">>

<<nobr>><<if $lavinetromanceflag gte 5>><<set $lavinetromanceflag to 0>><<setlavinet -5>><</if>><</nobr>> Both Lavinet and Riel notice your gesture and Prihine's resultant coloring; Riel gives you a dangerous quelling look while Lavinet throws you a vehement glance sharp enough to draw blood. Briony simply looks back and forth between the two of you, plainly baffled, a confused furrow between her brows. <<include "prihine_eyes_dart">>

<<nobr>><<if $brionyromanceflag >= 5>><<set $brionyromanceflag -= 1>><</if>><<if $lavinetromanceflag gte 5>><<set $lavinetromanceflag to 0>><<setlavinet -5>><</if>><</nobr>> Briony glances at you, then does a double-take at whatever expression she sees on your face. <<nobr>><<if ($brionyromanceflag < 10) and ($briony >= 70)>> A small, knowing smile creeps over her lips, and she gives you a sly, bright look, as if excited to see what you'll do next. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "prihine_eyes_dart">>

Prihine's eyes dart up to yours, then immediately back to her cousin. <<nobr>><<if ((($rielinvestigation is true) and ($prihineromanceflag >= 7)) or ($prihineromance is true))>> Although she looks similarly stricken at your appearance, she manages to smooth away the moment with impressive composure as she turns to address Lavinet. <</if>><</nobr>> She sweeps a quick, polite curtsy, though you can't help but imagine (or perceive) a hint of Prihine's usual sarcasm in the gesture. "Cousin." Her tone is a bit cool and formal. "I thought I saw you in the assembly hall earlier. Where on earth did you run off to?" "<<c firstname>> had some business to attend to," Lavinet answers, returning with her own, shallower curtsy, as befitting an older cousin. She glances quickly at Prihine's companions, then seems to change her mind about whatever she was going to say. "Let me introduce my companions… This is Captain Briony Stormbreaker, a traveler hailing from the southern isles and my lady-in-waiting for the day…" Briony gives a clumsy, wobbly curtsy of her own. <<nobr>><<if $rielinvestigation is true>> "You are acquainted with Commander Riel Syndran, of course, once head of Merchants Guild and now one of the leaders of the Shepherds, and <<c rank>> <<c firstname>> <<c surname>>, the Hero of Haven." <<else>> "And this is Commander Riel Syndran, once head of Merchants Guild and now one of the leaders of the Shepherds. And <<c rank>> <<c firstname>> <<c surname>>, the Hero of Haven." <</if>><</nobr>> Both you and Prihine notice that she makes no attempt to obscure your status as Shepherds: although that had been the original plan when you were planning to pass as Lavinet's escorts during her courtly debut, it's probably better for everyone to know exactly who you are now that you're about to make moves against De Vespe. Prihine nods curtly to Riel, then you, her eyes lingering on yours before she looks away again.<<nobr>><<if ((($rielinvestigation is true) and ($prihineromanceflag >= 7)) or ($prihineromance is true))>> Her hands fall into the folds of her skirt and seem to fidget, plucking at a pearl sewn into a pleat there. <<elseif $rielinvestigation is true>> Although she doesn't smile, there was something friendly and knowing about that look, almost warm and secretive and acknowledging, as if you're both in on your own private joke. It seemed to say briskly, <i>We can't speak now, but how have you been?</i> A very different expression than what you've been used to receiving from Prihine. <<else>> She almost seems embarrassed or uneasy about your presence here. <</if>><</nobr>> <<nobr>><<if $rielinvestigation is false>> "We are acquainted," Riel says dryly. "Please accept my condolences for the loss of your late husband, Lady Ushala." <br><br> You glance sharply at Prihine just as Briony says artlessly, "Oh—did your husband pass recently?" <br><br> "Yes, a few months ago," Prihine answers, her tone almost dismissive. "Heart attack." <<else>> "It's good to see you again, Lady Ushala," Riel says, his tone extremely dry. "I'm told you decided to hire the estate accountant I recommended to you last fall." <br><br> Prihine rolls her eyes. "The one you practically forced on me? Yes, he's getting on well enough, I suppose." <</if>><</nobr>> Then she turns to her companions, indicating her friend first. "This is Velora Aruzhan, heiress of Besque." The olive-skinned young woman dips a quick curtsy, her almond-shaped sloe eyes bright with interest. "And Eva Belchare, of Dunixi. She's <i>my</i> lady-in-waiting." She almost seems to direct this to Briony, as if in subtle challenge, as the young woman with frost-blonde hair and worry lines around her mouth curtsies as well. Lavinet's expression remains pleasant as she says sweetly, "Eva and I have met, of course. She's the youngest sister of Isolde, Auberon Eddon's betrothed." She also seems to be addressing this aside to you and Briony, clearly for your benefit. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Keep your expression cool. "I hope she's as pleasant and amenable to us as her sister was."</div>' 'eva_cool'>><<setintelligence +1>><<setriel +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Grimace, making no attempt to conceal your feelings about Auberon and Isolde. "How... nice."</div>' 'eva_grimace'>><<setcharisma -1>><<setbriony +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Greet Eva warmly. "Isolde and I got on famously in Lockwood. I do hope you'll pass along my greetings to her."</div>' 'eva_warmly'>><<setcharisma +1>><<setlavinet +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Look mystified. "I'm sorry, I don't recall..."</div>' 'eva_mystified'>><<setintelligence -1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $rielromanceflag gte 5 and $gender is "male" and $attractedto is not "women">><<set $rielromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</nobr>> Eva and Velora shoot looks at each other, and the lady-in-waiting immediately snaps open a fan and lifts it up to conceal the lower half of her face, as if embarrassed. <<include "velora_crowds">>

Briony seems to share your feelings, from the ill-concealed look of distaste on her face. <<include "velora_crowds">>

<<if $lavinetromanceflag gte 5 and $gender is "male" and $attractedto is not "men">><<set $lavinetromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</nobr>>Lavinet shoots you a half-amused, half-exasperated look as Eva snaps open a fan and flutters it nervously towards the lower half of her face, murmuring a flustered, diffident response in reply. <<include "velora_crowds">>

Lavinet almost looks as if she wants to laugh, but she cuts in smoothly, "Of course: there was so much going on then. Auberon and Isolde were present in Lockwood when you were deployed to address our troubles." <<include "velora_crowds">>

<<nobr>><<set $petition += 1>><</nobr>> Velora Aruzhan crowds forward then, excitedly pressing Lavinet with questions about her decision to join the Shepherds as a noble… to Prihine's clear annoyance. It's obvious that Lavinet's actions are still closely monitored by a certain subset of the young aristocracy, who seem intrigued, inspired, or appalled by her example—but whatever the case, Velora treats her like a minor celebrity. And in this sheltered echelon, the significance of who you are as a local folk hero doesn't seem as relevant to her as Lavinet's position as a runaway heiress. Prihine tolerates this lack of attention on her long enough to allow for a few moments of eager, worshipful chatter before she breaks in imperiously, "My cousin and I have some family business to discuss, so perhaps it'd be best if you could wait for me at the entrance. The servants should be bringing up the carriage soon." Lavinet shoots her a scandalized look just as Velora opens her mouth to protest, then presses her lips together and sweeps a farewell curtsy in silence. Eva follows suit, her watchful eyes lingering on yours, before both of them turn and depart with an elegant rustle of organza skirts. Lavinet, turning to Prihine, says in an undertone, "The way you address Lady Aruzhan is unseemly, Pri… Besque is so much larger than your father's fief, and she's the eldest of her family, besides…" "That's where you're wrong," her younger cousin rebuts, half-triumphantly. "<i>I'm</i> a widow. She <i>has</i> to listen to me." Riel turns his eyes silently up to the heavens just as you sigh inwardly. There's the Prihine you remember. Finally the young Sun Courtier turns her gimlet eye to you, cocking her head like an auctioneer examining a recalcitrant racehorse. "Now, what are you <i>really</i> doing here? And why didn't you tell me you'd be coming?" She listens as Lavinet gives her, in the briefest terms possible, an overview of your situation, starting with Sibella de Vespe's cursed package, her summons, and Lavinet's need to accompany you here as backup and support, even if it meant laboring under the pretense of making her debut at the Sun Court. Whatever the dynamic between them, she clearly trusts her cousin to have your best interests at heart, though Briony and Riel look a bit skeptical about this decision. <<nobr>><<if $rielinvestigation is true>> You, however, have no such doubts: Prihine owes you her life, after all. <<else>> You, however, have no such doubts: Prihine owes you her life, after all, and she once wrote to you and said she'd do you any favor in repayment of that debt. <</if>><</nobr>> "Of course I'll add my name to the list," she says when Lavinet's finished explaining. "De Vespe is a snake, anyway. Though neither the high augur nor the Autarch really know who I am, so it won't count for much. You'll need bigger names with more influence for them to really sit up and pay attention…" She rattles off several personages you haven't heard of as places to start. Then she adds crossly, "…And you still haven't told me <i>why</i> you didn't tell me you were coming. I've already said my goodbyes to everyone, and I have an appointment in Whitestone. If I'd known, I could have stayed to help you." "There wasn't much time," Lavinet says apologetically. "I didn't know if you were planning on coming here today… and I also wasn't sure if your lady-in-waiting reads your mail. You know my feelings on taking Eva Belchare into your household." Prihine waves a dismissive hand. "Just because she's Isolde's sister? I told you. She <i>hates</i> Isolde. She always felt overshadowed by her." If there's anything pointed about this statement, Prihine doesn't give any outward indication. "Or she could be acting so to get into your good graces," Lavinet says in a worried murmur. "Such is the way of the Sun Courtier." A look of annoyance crosses Prihine's face, bringing back that familiar pinched expression that foretells an argument or a tantrum. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"It's good to see you, Prihine."</div>' 'prihine_good_see'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"How have you been?"</div>' 'prihine_how_been'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I trust Prihine's instincts. Eva must be trustworthy for Prihine to call her a friend."</div>' 'prihine_trust_instincts'>><<setlavinet -3>><<setbriony +1>><<setcunning -1>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Lavinet's right. You should be on your guard. Eva could be a spy for her sister."</div>' 'prihine_spy'>><<setlavinet +3>><<setcunning +1>><<setcompassionate -1>><<setriel +1>><<set $prihineromanceflag to 0>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Well... this has been fun catching up. But we really should be going."</div>' 'prihine_going'>><<set $prihineromanceflag to 0>><<setloyal +3>><<setlavinet -1>><<setriel +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Let the two of them battle it out.</div>' 'prihine_battle'>><<setloyal -1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $prihineromance is true>><<set $prihineromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</nobr>>Prihine's eyes flit towards you, and her head twitches slightly, as if surprised by the warmth in your tone. She glances away <<nobr>><<if $prihineromance is true>> and doesn't answer for a moment, before she mutters a barely intelligible reply along the lines of, "You, too." <<elseif ($rielinvestigation is true) and ($prihineromanceflag >= 7)>> and doesn't reply. <<else>> and says in a lofty voice, "Yes… well… the same to you. You look like they're feeding you well, at least." <br><br> You can't tell if that's a dig or compliment. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "prihine_turns_to_you">>

Prihine's eyes flit towards you. She glances away <<nobr>><<if $prihineromance is true>> and doesn't answer for a moment, before she mutters a barely intelligible reply along the lines of, "Fine." <<elseif ($rielinvestigation is true) and ($prihineromanceflag >= 7)>> and doesn't reply. <<else>> and says in a lofty voice, "Very well, thank you. I've been given independence and mastery over all my husband's estate. What more could I ask for?" <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "prihine_turns_to_you">>

<<nobr>><<if $lavinetromanceflag gte 5>><<setlavinet -3>><<set $lavinetromanceflag -= 5>><</if>><<if $prihineromance is true>><<set $prihineromanceflag += 5>><</if>><<set $prihineromanceflag += 1>><</nobr>> Prihine's eyes flit towards you, and her head twitches slightly, as if surprised by your support: she must have been expecting you to take Lavinet's side. <<nobr>><<if $prihineromance is true>> She glances away again, her cheeks colored, and mutters something like a reluctant "Thank you." <<elseif ($rielinvestigation is true) and ($prihineromanceflag >= 7)>> She glances away again, her cheeks red, and doesn't answer you. <<else>> She nods towards you, reluctantly approving, and says, "Thank you. <<c firstname>> knows. I <i>do</i> know what I'm talking about." <</if>><</nobr>> Lavinet shoots you an exasperated, wearied look, audibly sighing. <<include "prihine_turns_to_you">>

<<nobr>><<if $lavinetromanceflag gte 5 and $attractedto is not "men">><<set $lavinetromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</nobr>>Prihine shoots you a venomous glance. "Or she could be a friend who enjoys my company," she answers through her teeth. "Not someone who's only associating with me because of her sister's rivalry with Lavinet. But of course, I should have remembered, no one would willingly spend time with me if there wasn't some ulterior motive behind it." Lavinet grimaces. "That's not what we meant, darling," she says in low, abashed tones. "I've said nothing about your friendship with Lady Aruzhan. It's about Eva Belchare, not about you." "I know what you meant," Prihine snaps. "And don't call me darling." <<include "prihine_turns_to_you">>

Prihine glances sharply at you, and a mix of emotions passes over her face, too opaque for you to read. Finally she says in tart, acid tones: "Of course. Wouldn't want to keep you when you have more important things to attend to." She turns her back and takes her leave without a parting bow. <<page_break "Next" "suncourtprepare">>

"It's funny how <i>you're</i> the one lecturing me on the ways of the Sun Court," Prihine says acidly. "<i>I</i> made my debut ages ago. <i>You</i> just got here." "But, darling, I grew up in the Winter Court," Lavinet begins in exasperated tones. "You chose not to take part in any court politics until after you were married. But this is neither here nor…" "It's not that I didn't <i>choose</i> to take part," Prihine bites back. "It's because no one ever <i>let</i> me. And don't call me darling." Lavinet glances at you and sighs quietly, her expression one of long-suffering weariness. <<include "prihine_turns_to_you">>

Then Prihine turns rather abruptly to you and says, "And how have <i>you</i> been? Has Shepherd life been treating you well?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Why, Prihine, I'm surprised to hear you actually care."</div>' 'prihine_surprised'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Oh, you know. One keeps quite busy, Hero-of-Havening and all that."</div>' 'prihine_busy'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"It's been treating me excellently, thank you."</div>' 'prihine_excellently'>><<setloyal +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"It's fine, I suppose."</div>' 'prihine_fine'>><<setloyal -1>><<setbriony -1>><<setriel -1>><<setlavinet -1>><</link>> <<if $prihineromance>><<link '<div class="choice-item">You find yourself unable to answer, your tongue feeling stuck to the roof of your mouth. "Uh..."</div>' 'prihine_unable'>><<set $prihineromanceflag += 1>><<set $lavinetromanceflag -= 1>><</link>><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $prihineromance is true>> Prihine flushes and looks away as if you'd struck her. She almost looks hurt by your implication, from the pained, unhappy look on her face. <<else>> Your former charge scowls immediately. "You act as if I'm heartless," she grumbles. "Forgive me for attempting polite conversation for once." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "prihine_advice">>

Prihine nods. <<nobr>><<if (($numberofromances >= 1) and ($prihineromance is true)) or (($numberofromances >= 1) and ($prihineromanceflag >= 7) and ($rielinvestigation is true))>> "Yes, I'm sure you're <i>very</i> busy," she mutters in an oddly-sarcastic tone. You wonder what she could be referring to… <<else>> "Lavi told me," she says, inadvertently revealing that she's been curious about you. "You've come a long way, it seems." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "prihine_advice">>

Prihine nods. <<nobr>><<if $prihineromance is true>> "I'm glad," she says in a quieter tone, still not meeting your gaze. <<else>> "I'm glad to hear it," she says, albeit a bit stiffly. "You've come a long way." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "prihine_advice">>

Prihine nods. "You've been busy, at least," she points out. <<include "prihine_advice">>

Briony throws you an incredulous look as you fumble for the words. You think Prihine looks briefly amused, but when you dare to glance at her face again, the expression has been smoothed away into one of cordial interest. <<include "prihine_advice">>

Then she shakes her head and adds, "Well, whatever the case, just know that your whole 'Hero of Haven' bit won't work on some of the people here. There are some who know who you are—the people who live in Whitestone, like Velora, and have more contact with the greater city, or the people whose business it is to know what goes on in Haven, like the ministers—but many of the nobles who keep to the Sun Court exclusively don't concern themselves with things like local heroes or news that doesn't affect them. They concern themselves with their Sun Court games and the Grand Illusion only; they won't know the name of a demon-fighter the native peasants are fawning over, any more than they would take note of—of an actress from Ashtown making the rounds at the common theaters. It's very insular here. So don't make a fool out of yourself by throwing your weight around with the wrong crowd. It'll work on <i>some</i> people. But others will need more… impressing. You're going to have to do a lot to get their names on your list." You nod. "That's good to know. Thank you." "Is there, um, any reason we should be <i>worried</i> about the people we'll be talking to?" Briony asks then. "I do feel a bit as if we're talking into a lion's den, covered in blood…" Prihine tosses her a dismissive glance. "This is still child's play when it comes to the Sun Court. The very nature of a open-air luncheon, with politicians and ministers and whatnot around, means that the very biggest players, like the Autarch's inner circle, won't be present. You won't have to worry about too many people outright trying to eat you." "But wouldn't we want to get people like that on our side?" you ask. "If we're hoping to persuade the Autarch to hear us out and get rid of De Vespe, wouldn't it be better to speak to the people who know him intimately?" Prihine levels you with a hard stare. "No," she says, her voice flat. "The people who are the hardest to get to—the people who are the closest to the seat of power—are isolated within the depths of the Sun Court for a reason: you won't see them associating out in the open with everyone else. It's like keeping the hunting dogs in a separate enclosure from the lapdogs when they all come out to play. It's safer for you that way. Less of a bloodbath." She gives a toss of her head. "No, this level of people is exactly right for your purposes. If you were any greedier and tried to go any higher… Well. Things would be over for you before they even began." After that ominous note, you make a bit more conversation before Prihine decides to take her leave and find her waiting friends. Before she turns to go, <<nobr>><<if ($rielinvestigation is true) and ($prihineromance is false)>> she pauses momentarily, her slender neck drawn taut and upright even from your vantage point from behind, before she says without turning around: "If you ever find yourself in Whitestone, you can see if I'm available for tea. I won't necessarily mind." <br><br> Before you can answer, she's gone in a whirl of skirts and a faint whiff of lemony citrus perfume. <<else>> she casts another glance at you and says quietly, "…Good luck." <br><br> Before you can answer, she's gone in a whirl of skirts and a faint whiff of lemony, citrus perfume. <</if>><</nobr>> <<page_break "Next" "prihine_departure">>

<<nobr>><<if $prihineromance is true>> Briony releases a long breath. "So that's your cousin," she says to Lavinet, who sighs a little. "I can see why she has a reputation for seeming difficult, though I like her spark. I thought she would have been younger." To you, she adds, "She kept trying not to look at you, <<c firstname>>. At first I thought it was because she was so single-minded, but then I remembered you know each other. It was almost like—" <br><br> Then, abruptly, she turns pink and closes her mouth, darting a fearful look at Lavinet. When Riel asks her to continue her thought, looking vaguely amused, she only shakes her head profusely. <br><br> After an awkward silence, Lavinet sighs again and says, "Yes… well…" She doesn't look at you, waving her fan in an idle fashion—like a cat twitching its tail in affected boredom masking irritation. "Shall we get on with it?" <br><br> Briony shoots you a look of horror as you gather yourselves and follow Lavinet outside. <br><br> <<include "suncourtprepare5">> <<else>> Briony releases a long breath. "So that's your cousin," she says to Lavinet, who sighs a little. "I can see why she has a reputation for seeming difficult, though I like her spark. I thought she would have been younger." <br><br> "She's certainly grown up since moving here," Lavinet answers with a sigh. "Though I don't know how one couldn't, getting married, losing one's husband, having to manage alone in the city like Haven and a place like the Sun Court. But in other ways, she hasn't changed." <br><br> "Do the two of you usually get along?" Riel asks her. <br><br> Lavinet taps her mouth with her fan. "I'm not sure that's quite the word for it, darling. I've always tried to look out for her. I saw her as another younger sister, though I got along better with her older sisters, being closer to them both in age and temperament. Poor Prihine was so difficult growing up, even as a child, that she spent most of the time in her room alone. I think she was always suspicious or resentful of any kindness on my part: as if I was looking down on her. She never seemed to want to accept anything from me." She shrugs. "Now that we're both in Haven and she's a widow, I believe she considers us equals, and that she no longer has anything to prove or a need to compete with me. So perhaps relations between us will improve. But we have always cared about each other, even if you wouldn't say we were especially close." She glances at you apologetically. "Perhaps <<c firstname>> knows. I can imagine she was very difficult towards you when you were her guard." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Yup, she was awful. I hated working for her."</div>' 'autogenerated_686214'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"She was pretty bratty, but it wasn't so bad. I'd dealt with worse."</div>' 'autogenerated_686215'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"She was a headache, but I've come to understand that she had reasons for acting that way. I'd throw tantrums, too, if I was married off to someone more than twice my age."</div>' 'autogenerated_686216'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I didn't notice, really."</div>' 'autogenerated_686217'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I never minded. I enjoyed Prihine's company."</div>' 'autogenerated_686218'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <</if>><</nobr>>

Riel snorts, and Lavinet nods her head sympathetically. "Yet another reason why she was lucky that you interceded and saved her life," she says, inclining her head in a gesture of respect. Then she looks around and adds, "Now. We can catch up about all this later, preferably when we're safe back in the compound. For now, we have a task to do." <<include 'suncourtprepare5'>>

Lavinet dips her head. "Yet another reason why she was lucky to have you," she says, with a hint of a smile. Then she looks around and adds, "Now. We can catch up about all this later, preferably when we're safe back in the compound. For now, we have a task to do." <<include 'suncourtprepare5'>>

<<page_break "Next" "suncourtprepare">>

A tall, carelessly handsome young aristocrat stands before you, all broad shoulders and trim waist in his deep red waistcoat, sporting dark gold hair in a short duelist or soldier's cut and sleepy gray eyes set over a pleasantly-crooked nose. He's clearly had military service, judging by his build and the formal way he stands, and overall he lacks the polish and sophistication that would mark him as a Haven-born Sun Courtier. Maybe a transplant from another city, like Lavinet? Lavinet smoothly makes the introductions. "Lord Alystair"—here she sweeps a curtsy befitting someone she views as equal to her status—"these are my dear friends and companions: Captain Briony Stormbreaker, a visitor from the southern isles and my lady-in-waiting for the day; Commander Riel Syndran, formerly head of Merchants Guild and now one of the leaders of the Order of the Shepherds; and <<c rank>> <<c firstname>> <<c surname>>, also known as the Hero of Haven." You notice that she makes no attempt to obscure your status as Shepherds: although that had been the original plan when you were planning to pass as Lavinet's escorts during her courtly debut, it's probably better for everyone to know exactly who you are now that you're about to make moves against De Vespe. To you she says, "This is Lord Alystair Rhovane, heir to the march of Argenthyne—which, of course, would make him in line to become a marquis. You'll recall Lady Dianthe Summerfield, our ally during the troubles at Lockwood? She has a cousin, Lord Romar Ardelay, who is a resident here with his wife, Lady Amerie. I met Lord Alystair—himself Lady Amerie's cousin—at a dinner party they held at their estate recently." "I'm visiting from the North," Lord Alystair supplies in a cheerful tone. "In other words, I'm merely a guest of my cousin and a stranger to these parts—an interested hanger-on, as it were. No one you need impress—not that many people seem all that impressive in comparison to Lady Lavinet here." You glance towards Lavinet, who tilts her head expressively in a subtle gesture; you take it to mean this Lord Alystair won't be of much help to you when it comes to petitioning the Autarch to get rid of Sibella de Vespe. Still, she turns to him and says in a charming tone, "You do yourself too little credit, Lord Alystair: your accomplishments are wide and many. Not many marquises-to-be enroll in military service. We could use valiant hearts like yours in the Shepherd ranks." "I've seen a battle or two," Lord Alystair acknowledges modestly, though he practically beams at the compliment. "Though I'd take beating back Karzaki incursions over facing an Endarkened any day." The admiring, almost besotted look he gives her as he says this is all too obvious; he's a provincial noble, indeed, with nothing like the serpentine reserve you've been told Sun Courtier politicians possess. "Are you looking for Cousin Romar? He's outside with Amerie, taking some refreshment. I was taking a stroll, looking at these marvelous paintings"—he makes a vague gesture all around you, though these particular walls look blank, as far as you can see—"but I think I'll make my way back to the estate for now. All this talk of politics makes my head spin. Still, I can show you the way before taking my leave…" Immediately, Lavinet slips her hand around his proffered arm, and the two of them fall into step, chatting easily and perhaps even a bit flirtatiously. You and Briony and Riel trail after them as Alystair leads the way to the luncheon outside, seemingly only having eyes of Lavinet and no interest at all in the rest of your party. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if ((($lavinethate is false) and ($lavinetromanceflag >= 10)) and ($attractedto is not "men"))>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Despite your better instincts, you find yourself glaring a hole in the back of Alystair's head. You know Lavinet is only buttering him up as a matter of course, but you can't help but feel a bit jealous...</div>' 'autogenerated_686219'>><</link>><</if>> <<if (($briony >= 70) and ($brionyhate is false))>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Briony gleefully slips her arm around yours, clearly intent on gossiping.</div>' 'autogenerated_686220'>><<setcharisma +1>><<setbriony +3>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>><</if>> <<if (($briony < 70) or ($brionyhate is true))>><div class="inactive-item">Briony gleefully slips her arm around yours, clearly intent on gossiping.</div><</if>> <<if (($riel >= 70) and ($cunning >= 65))>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Exchange a calculating look with Riel. Although Alystair might not be important enough to recruit to your cause against De Vespe, perhaps there's another way to leverage his obvious interest in Lavinet...</div>' 'autogenerated_686221'>><<setcunning +1>><<setriel +3>><<setcompassionate -1>><</link>><</if>> <<if (($riel < 70) or ($cunning < 65))>><div class="inactive-item">Exchange a calculating look with Riel. Although Alystair might not be important enough to recruit to your cause against De Vespe, perhaps there's another way to leverage his obvious interest in Lavinet...</div><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Ignore them and focus on mentally prepping for this next part of your mission.</div>' 'suncourtprepare'>><<setintelligence +1>><<setcunning +1>><<setloyal +1>><<setriel +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $gender is "male">> <<set $lavinetromanceflag += 5>> <</if>> <<if $brionyromanceflag >= 5>> <<set $brionyromanceflag -= 5>> <<else>> <<setbriony +1>> <</if>> <<if ($rielromanceflag >= 5) or ($rielromance is true)>> <<set $rielromanceflag -= 10>> <<setriel -5>> <</if>><</nobr>> Why hasn't Lavinet ever mentioned this Alystair character before? And why exactly are they standing so close to each other? You can't help but contemplate how awfully satisfying it would be to wipe that lovesick, dopey look off of his face… Your jealous thoughts are interrupted by a brief (but terrifically strong) pinch to your side. "You're going to grind your teeth to dust if you keep clenching your jaw like that," Briony says to you in a scolding whisper. "And would you stop glaring at him like a dog protecting his master? You look like you're thinking about dismembering him!" Riel, looking a bit bored, adds in an undertone, "You don't have anything to worry about, anyway. She's not interested in him. She thinks he's a bit of a rube." Briony whirls on him. "She told you that?" The tactician shrugs his narrow shoulders. "She didn't need to. You can tell it from her body language." The two of you glance skeptically towards Lavinet and her infatuated companion again. You wish you possessed Riel's talent for reading people, you think unhappily as Lavinet's tinkling laugh seems to splash cold all throughout your body. It would certainly make life a great deal easier. <<include 'suncourtprepare5'>>

"Do you <i>see</i> that?" she asks you in a delighted whisper. "He's <i>infatuated</i> with her! He probably spotted us earlier and 'went on a walk' to try and run into her! And they've only met once, haven't they? What if they were to fall in love? Then she'd be a <i>marquess</i>! But why didn't she ever mention him?" <<include 'briony_gossip_choices'>>

Could he, perhaps, be persuaded to back the Shepherds in some way, or donate funds to your cause? Briony catches your looks and hisses, "Oh, stop it, you two! He really seems to like her!" "She's not interested in him," Riel answers in bland tones. "She thinks he's a bit of a rube." "She told you that?" The tactician shrugs his narrow shoulders. "She didn't need to. You can tell it from her body language. She's simply playing along in case he proves useful in the future. You never know." You nod wisely, and Briony sighs at the two of you, shaking her head. <<include 'suncourtprepare5'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Tsk dismissively. "Lavinet could do better."</div>' 'briony_gossip_conclusion'>><<setriel +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Partake in her excitement. "They seem cute together. We should ask him when he plans on seeing her next."</div>' 'briony_gossip_conclusion'>><<setbriony +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Laugh. "She's probably used to this kind of treatment. It didn't strike her as worth mentioning."</div>' 'briony_gossip_conclusion'>><<setlavinet +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Snort. "Well, I think he's a bit rude. He barely even greeted us."</div>' 'briony_gossip_conclusion'>><<setcompassionate -1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"She's not interested in him," Riel informs you then, his face stony and a bit bored by the conversation. "She thinks he's a bit of a yokel or a rube." Briony whirls on him. "She told you that?" The tactician shrugs his narrow shoulders. "She didn't need to. You can tell it from her body language. She's simply playing along in case he proves useful in the future. You never know." You and Briony exchange glances before shivering in unison, just as Lavinet gives a tinkling laugh to one of Alystair's comments, seeming perfectly at her ease. <<include "suncourtprepare5">>

<<nobr>><<if ((($prihinesafe is false) and ($bothsafe is false)) or ($rielinvestigation is false))>> Alystair leads you out into a dazzling, white-paved courtyard gently lit with early spring light; the cobblestones even seem to be magically heated here, to stave off the mild chill in the air as various nobles, courtiers, and ministers mill and lunch at their leisure, picking over large tables overflowing with grazing boards, cured meats, cheeses, sugared fruits, and goblets of warm wine or punch dished out by dozens of blank-faced servants. He kisses Lavinet's hand and takes his leave after pointing out his cousin to you… and you're left to consider the tableau you're about to throw yourself into. Luckily, few people seem to have noticed your arrival. <<else>> You walk out into a dazzling, white-paved courtyard gently lit with early spring light; the cobblestones even seem to be magically heated here, to stave off the mild chill in the air as various nobles, courtiers, and ministers mill and lunch at their leisure, picking over large tables overflowing with grazing boards, cured meats, cheeses, sugared fruits, and goblets of warm wine or punch dished out by dozens of blank-faced servants. Luckily, few people seem to have noticed your arrival, but you have only a few moments before you become noticeable for standing around and gawking awkwardly. <</if>><</nobr>> <<nobr>><<if $darktomesibella is true>> Your group determined that you would need at least five prominent nobles willing to back or provide circumstantial evidence of your claims that Sibella was dabbling in dark and forbidden magic using the black tome. And, of course, you'll need to pick people who will actually follow through on their word to help you without buckling under pressure… or who won't betray you to De Vespe herself… <<else>> Your group determined that you would need at least nine prominent nobles willing to back your maneuver to remove Sibella De Vespe from her seat as High Court Mystic… and in addition to that, you'll need to find some way to uncover the actual unsavory things she's been up to, as well, if there are any at all. Something even the Autarch won't be willing to forgive… And, of course, you'll need to pick people who will actually follow through on their word to help you without buckling under pressure… or who won't betray you to De Vespe herself… <</if>><</nobr>> You take a breath, exchange a look with the others, and decide to disperse. <<include "suncourtiermissiongo">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("kestraandsorsha")>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Speak to a pair of vivacious, talkative nobles who look like mother and daughter.</div>' 'kestraandsorsha'>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($romar is 0)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Speak to the pair of beautiful aristocrats conversing with Lavinet, seemingly husband and wife.</div>' 'romar1'>><<set $romar += 1>><</link>><</if>> <<if ((($romarrhienneaffairknow is true) and ($romar is 1)) and ($rhienne is 2))>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Speak to Lord Romar and Lady Amerie.</div>' 'romar2'>><<set $romar +=1>><</link>><</if>> <<if (($rhienne is 0) and ($romar is 1))>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Speak to the lone young woman darting looks at Lord Romar and Lady Amerie.</div>' 'rhienne1'>><<set $rhienne += 1>><</link>><</if>> <<if (($romarrhienneaffairknow is true) and ($rhienne is 1))>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Speak to Lady Rhienne.</div>' 'rhienne2'>><<set $rhienne += 1>><</link>><</if>> <<if ((($romarwipe is true) or ($romarwipelie is true)) and ($rhienne is 2))>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Speak to Lady Rhienne.</div>' 'rhienne3'>><<set $rhienne += 1>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("jalisdiplomat")>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Speak to the cunning-eyed diplomat standing in ambassador's robes.</div>' 'jalisdiplomat'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("lettersnoble")>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Speak to the amused, sleek-looking noble with their hat fixed at a jaunty angle.</div>' 'lettersnoble'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("westernhierophantjunior")>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Speak to the anxious, baby-faced augur with the symbol of the Western Hierophant affixed to his robes.</div>' 'westernhierophantjunior'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("artifactretrieval")>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Speak to the stern, worried-looking noble staring into the depths of his wine.</div>' 'artifactretrieval'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("militarysiblings")>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Speak to the cluster of tense noble siblings poking half-heartedly at their plates.</div>' 'militarysiblings'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("refinedaristocrat")>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Speak to the refined-looking aristocrat with remarkably rich clothes talking with Riel.</div>' 'refinedaristocrat'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("forebodingaristocrat")>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Speak to the foreboding-looking aristocrat standing alone under the colonnades.</div>' 'forebodingaristocrat'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("courtmagetalk")>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Speak to the Court Mage observing the proceedings quietly by himself.</div>' 'courtmagetalk'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("leashedket")>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Speak to the Leashed Ket guard that Briony is talking to in low, worried tones.</div>' 'leashedket'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You have nothing more you can do here.</div>' 'suncourtiermissionover'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

You approach the two women: one a woman in her forties with very fine skin and chestnut curls piled on her head, the other a young woman around twenty who looks like an exact copy of the older woman, save for the lively green eyes she possesses in comparison to her mother's liquid black. The frequency of their fans' fluttering increases as you approach, and the daughter turns her head slightly away from you, almost as if struggling to contain her excitement. Giving a formal salute—your version of paying respect without having to bow or curtsy—you introduce yourself, and the two women give their names as Baroness Kestra Zinthara of Edanlee (the mother) and her youngest, Lady Sorsha. <<nobr>><<if $intelligence >= 65>> Within the confines of the Sun Court, you deduce, they are probably near the bottom of the ladder in terms of political significance—at least in the case of the size of their holdings—but they are still several times more landed than Lavinet. Plus, they seem to be quite the social butterflies, at least from what you can deduce about their demeanors. <</if>><</nobr>> "Oh, but what ever are Shepherds doing here?" the baroness asks, her eyes fixed almost greedily on your sun medallion. "I've never seen any of your order make an appearance in the Sun Court—I had to ask another what your uniform represented." You clear your throat. "Well, one of our number is a member of the aristocracy herself—Lady Lavinet Naveen, heiress of Lockwood. She's been living in the city for some time, but hasn't had the chance to officially make herself known the court until now… And of course, she needed escorts." Lady Sorsha, the daughter, titters in a high, unnerving manner. "Yes, but she could have chosen anybody to be her escorts, couldn't she?" she asks, drawing closer and laying her hand on your arm as if you're intimate confidantes. "Lord Alystair Rhovane, for example, or any of the Summerfield relations. Why <i>you</i>?" Her hand wanders idly up your arm, almost as if she's stroking a pet. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $charisma >= 60>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Give them a charming smile. "Well, I am the one they call the Hero of Haven. I imagine that's a bit more interesting than one of the Summerfields."</div>' 'kestracharm'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>><</if>> <<if $charisma < 60>><div class="inactive-item">Give them a charming smile. "Well, I am the one they call the Hero of Haven. I imagine that's a bit more interesting than one of the Summerfields."</div><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Endure this treatment stonily. "I suppose it's because I'm a $rank... as well as the Hero of Haven."</div>' 'kestracharm'>><<setloyal +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Shake her off rudely. "You'd have to ask her."</div>' 'kestrarudeshakeoff'>><<setcharisma -1>><<setintelligence -1>><<setcompassionate -1>><<setcunning -1>><<setloyal -1>><<setreputation -1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

A cross expression flits over Lady Sorsha's face as you shake her hand off. The two women instantly close ranks and, having lost interest in speaking with you, shortly thereafter drift away to join a group of laughing nobles who quickly begin to glance over and laugh at you. <<include "suncourtiermissiongo">>

Both Kestra and Sorsha's eyes light up with greedy interest at that. "<i>The Hero of Haven</i>?" Lady Sorsha's fan is flapping so quickly it reminds you of a hummingbird's wings. "My dear, you should have said so at once! We've heard tales of you, even here in the depths of the Sun Court…" She exchanges glances with her mother before the baroness continues in a light, lilting tone: "Perhaps you've heard of this, but I'm set to throw my famous Beneficence Ball in a few weeks' time. As you can imagine, it's the social event of the season, where I use the occasion to gather the wealthiest donors together and induce them to support my latest cause. It would cause such <i>interest</i> if you were to attend as my guest of honor. Your presence there would legitimize the cause, imply that it has Shepherd backing, and further increase attendance… It would be such a delight to have you. You would be the star of the show!" She and her daughter look at you with frank expectation, as if unable to imagine you could ever refuse. <<include "kestratest">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("kestwhatentail")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"What would being your guest of honor entail?"</div>' 'kestwhatentail'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("kestwhatcause")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"What's the cause?"</div>' 'kestwhatcause'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Agree to be her guest of honor.</div>' 'kestraagree'>><<setreputation +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Decline. You have no desire to do that.</div>' 'kestradecline'>><<setreputation -1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"Why, nothing at all," Baroness Kestra says innocently. "Simply attend, eat, enjoy yourself, make conversation with guests… And if you could throw in a word or two to support our cause, of course, that would be a wonderful gesture of your appreciation. Not everyone gets to be invited to this event, of course, and to be the guest of honor, seated at my right hand, well…" "Not even I get to sit at her right hand," Lady Sorsha gushes excitedly. <<include "kestratest">>

"Oh—" She makes an airy gesture, as if surprised you would care. "Helping the impoverished." You raise a brow. "Helping them how?" "We'd be giving them access to more arts and culture. Theater and music are such joyous things, and they oughtn't be only limited to the nobility." "With the funds raised from this event, Mama would put on a series of free concerts for the poor folk," Lady Sorsha says proudly. "They love it ever so much." Somehow you suspect they don't love it as much as they would food, clothing, or shelter, but it probably wouldn't behoove you to mention that. <<include "kestratest">>

Lady Sorsha looks at you as if you'd done something unspeakably barbaric, like spitting in a host's hand when she offered you an hors d'oeuvres. Baroness Kestra's face is expressionless; she only inclines her head and murmurs, "Ah, that's regrettable." Shortly thereafter, they lose interest in talking to you and drift away to join a group of laughing nobles who quickly begin to glance over and laugh at you. <<include "suncourtiermissiongo">>

Attending a wealthy party and being shown off like a newly-bought lapdog is fairly innocuous in terms of the favors you thought you'd have to divvy out to get on a Sun Courtier's good side. Baroness Kestra looks enormously pleased, though she remains composed and dignified as she replies, "How delightful. My secretary will help you understand all the details." Before you can open your mouth to leverage this favor into a direction that will help with Sibella de Vespe, Lady Sorsha breaks in: "Mama, my debutante ball…" "Ah," Baroness Kestra drawls, turning her eyes upwards with a look of faraway calculation. "I hadn't even thought of that. Why, Sorsha, you little devil…" Her daughter giggles, looking so thrilled you can't help but feel suspicious. "I'm sorry, debutante ball?" "Next month will be my coming-of-age," Lady Sorsha tells you; if that's true, then she's younger than you thought—even younger than Prihine was when you first met her. "I want to do something really grand, something that will make me stand out and have people talking about me for ages and ages…" She smirks. "If you were to serve as my official escort, it would create such a stir. The Hero of Haven on my arm! Of course, we'll have to circulate news about you beforehand so people will know both who you are and that it's <i>really</i> you." "Wouldn't that create a scandal?" you ask. "After all, I'm not a noble or a Sun Courtier…" "You leave that to us," Baroness Kestra says, a tad condescendingly. "There are many factors at play here that you couldn't hope to understand. In short, Sorsha has received many appealing marriage-offers, but some of her suitors lack… a certain ideal level of enthusiasm. Perhaps they've sized up their competition and are a little too comfortable and confident about their chances, content to sit back and wait for us to accept their proposal. But to realize they may have a rival from another quarter, one they could never have predicted… And someone so… <i>unique</i>…" "You want to use me to hasten their desire to marry your daughter, or cause them raise to their offers in order to snatch her up," you finish wearily. <i>It's not that hard to understand.</i> Baroness Kestra covers her mouth with her fan. "I wouldn't put it that bluntly, pet, but then again, you're unused to speaking our language. Still, it would be a perfect gambit. All eyes would be on you, and your name would be in the mouths of your rivals for weeks…" This, she addresses to her daughter, who lets loose an excited, girlish squeal. "It would only be for one night," she adds to you imperiously. "Any more than that, and people would get to thinking we're actually <i>dallying</i>, which we <i>don't</i> want. We just want to pique their interest, prick their ears, so to speak, without sullying my name. You'd just need to show up, flirt and dance a bit with me, act very interested, and then disappear." "So you want me to publicly act as your date during your debutante ball," you repeat, to which Lady Sorsha and Baroness Kestra nod. Just how far are you willing to go to earn their favor? <<include "sorshatest">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("sorsharomantic") and $numberofromances >= 1>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"But I'm already romantically involved with someone..."</div>' 'sorsharomantic'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited ("sorshahumiliate")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"You're not going to do something to humiliate me, right? Dress me up in some sort of ridiculous costume or make me the butt of some joke?"</div>' 'sorshahumiliate'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Fine, I'll be your date to your debutante ball."</div>' 'bothsorshaandkestra'>><<setreputation +1>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"No. I already agreed to be the guest of honor at your charity event."</div>' 'onlyladykestra'>><<setcourage +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Mother and daughter look at each other… and then burst out laughing. "Oh, pet, why ever would that matter?" Baroness Kestra laughs, dabbing at the corner of her glittering eye with a handkerchief. <<include "sorshatest">>

Sorsha looks surprised by the implication. "How would that make me look good?" she asks. "I could do that to any old servant. No, <i>you</i> must look appealing if <i>I</i> am to. My status is to be elevated by your presence." You suppose that makes sense… <<include "sorshatest">>

Lady Sorsha snaps her fan out and flutters it in front of her face in an annoyed fashion, but neither she nor her mother look entirely surprised by your refusal. They probably knew they were pushing their luck with the second request… Eventually, after some serpentine dancing around the topic, you're able to bring up the matter of Sibella de Vespe. "We don't have much cause to come in contact with her," Baroness Kestra says in bland tones, though you think her expression leans towards one of distaste. "Have you met her personally? I imagine that the High Court Mystic would have occasion to come into contact with officers like you now and again…" Something about the way she says it feels heavy with some meaning you don't understand. <<nobr>><<if $darktomesibella is true>> <<set $petition += 1>> You square your shoulders. "Actually, that's one of the reasons why we're here at the Sun Court today…" <br><br> Asking them to apply the strictest confidence, you explain your "suspicions" regarding Sibella's possession of the dark tome and her use of forbidden magic. "And if you've seen any evidence to support this, we could bring the matter to the attention of the Autarch…" <br><br> A small smile curves Baroness Kestra's lips as she regards you thoughtfully, almost with a new interest in her gaze. "Why," she says in sugared tones, "for my honored guest, I'd be happy to dig into the annals of my memory. There have been one or two instances, I think, where I have seen De Vespe behaving suspiciously, but I never knew enough about magic to understand what I was seeing…" <br><br> In the end, she agrees to have her name placed on your petition. Her daughter, Sorsha, however, looks away and says coolly, "Mama is more observant than I. I've seen no such thing." <br><br> You come away from the conversation with one name for your list, at least. You just hope Sorsha won't do anything spiteful as a result of your snub… <<else>> <<set $petition += 1>> You square your shoulders. "Actually, that's one of the reasons why we're here at the Sun Court today…" <br><br> Asking them to apply the strictest confidence, you explain your desire to scrutinize Sibella de Vespe for any suspicious behavior. If you uncover any evidence of it, you could bring the matter to the attention of the Autarch… <br><br> A small smile curves Baroness Kestra's lips as she regards you thoughtfully, almost with a new interest in her gaze. "Why," she says in sugared tones, "for my honored guest, I'd be happy to oblige. Unfortunately, I can't recall seeing anything that might help you… As I said, we don't have much cause to interact with Lady De Vespe." <br><br> Lady Sorsha, when you meet her glaze, looks away haughtily, making it clear she has no further desire to help you. <br><br> Baroness Kestra eyes her sidelong and adds, "Of course, if you <i>do</i> uncover anything… feel free to add my name to your petition. And I'll be glad to add your name to my guest list." <br><br> You come away from the conversation with one name for your list, at least. You just hope Sorsha won't do anything spiteful as a result of your snub… <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "suncourtiermissiongo">>

Lady Sorsha gives a delighted cry and clasps your hands familiarly, earning Lavinet's brief glance from across the courtyard. After indulging a bit more of their talk, you're eventually able to bring up the matter of Sibella de Vespe. "We don't have much cause to come in contact with her," Baroness Kestra says in bland tones, though you think her expression leans towards one of distaste. "Have you met her personally? I imagine that the High Court Mystic would have occasion to come into contact with officers like you now and again…" Something about the way she says it feels heavy with some meaning you don't understand. <<nobr>><<if $darktomesibella is true>> <<set $petition += 2>> You square your shoulders. "Actually, that's one of the reasons why we're here at the Sun Court today…" <br><br> Asking them to apply the strictest confidence, you explain your "suspicions" regarding Sibella's possession of the dark tome and her use of forbidden magic. "And if you've seen any evidence to support this, we could bring the matter to the attention of the Autarch…" <br><br> A small smile curves Baroness Kestra's lips as she regards you thoughtfully, almost with a new interest in her gaze. "Why," she says in sugared tones, "for my honored guest, I'd be happy to dig into the annals of my memory. There have been one or two instances, I think, where I have seen De Vespe behaving suspiciously, but I never knew enough about magic to understand what I was seeing…" <br><br> "Oh, and I!" Lady Sorsha exclaims, looking all too excited to participate. "I could <i>swear</i> I've seen her squirreling away a book just like that, once when I walked into an unused parlor during a fete. She jumped and acted so unnerved, but I didn't think anything of it at the time…" <br><br> She says this with such perfect, guileless sincerity that it's almost frightening. <br><br> In the end, they both agree to have their names placed on your petition. You come away from the conversation pleased to have a cunning duo like them backing your maneuver. <<include "suncourtiermissiongo">> <<else>> <<set $petition += 2>> <<set $sibellaevidence += 1>> You square your shoulders. "Actually, that's one of the reasons why we're here at the Sun Court today…" <br><br> Asking them to apply the strictest confidence, you explain your desire to scrutinize Sibella de Vespe for any suspicious behavior. If you uncover any evidence of it, you could bring the matter to the attention of the Autarch… <br><br> A small smile curves Baroness Kestra's lips as she regards you thoughtfully, almost with a new interest in her gaze. "Why," she says in sugared tones, "for my honored guest, I'd be happy to oblige." Then she sighs. "Unfortunately, when it comes to matters of magic or treason, I have little to contribute: I doubt I would recognize anything amiss even if it existed, at least in that regard. But there are rumors…" She exchanges quick glances with her daughter, who leans forward and drops her voice to an intimate whisper. <br><br> "There are rumors," Lady Sorsha begins, shielding her mouth with her fan as if to thwart any watching lip-readers, "that the Golden One and Sibella de Vespe once shared a dalliance in his youth, before his ascension. It couldn't have lasted very long, or far more people would suspect it, so perhaps it only happened once or twice. But we think that may be part of the reason why she enjoys this new position of power—partially for the Autarch to keep her close. For more reasons than one." <br><br> You nod, trying not to let your disappointment show on your face—for this isn't anything you could bring up to High Augur Arameri or Enik himself—but Sorsha continues, "But… it is possible that De Vespe has now welcomed someone <i>else</i> into her bed, and is striving to keep it from the Autarch. There are rumors that she receives a late-night visitor in her private rooms, and does everything she can to keep his identity a secret." <br><br> "Why would she do that?" you ask. "If her and the Autarch's dalliance is ended, then…" <br><br> "Yes, because he has committed himself to the One-God, and he could never marry her anyway," Lady Sorsha says in a furious whisper. "He needs children of pure blood, not…" She darts a quick glance at your eyes and then away. "But he still may be a jealous man. And whoever this paramour is, courting them openly can't be worth the Autarch deciding to revoke De Vespe's position… or questioning her loyalty to him. So of course she would take pains to keep them a secret." <br><br> "Or perhaps there is something altogether more <i>objectionable</i> about this person," Baroness Kestra says in a silky voice. "But further than that, we simply don't know." <br><br> <<page_break "..." "sorshaandkestranewlead">> <</if>><</nobr>>

In the end, they both agree to have their names placed on your petition if you uncover anything more damning against Sibella de Vespe. You come away from the conversation pleased to have a cunning duo like them backing your maneuver, as well as a new potential lead to pursue. <<include "suncourtiermissiongo">>

You approach the duo that Lavinet is currently in deep conversation with: one is a very tall, extremely broad-shouldered man with deep, bronze-gold skin and shoulder-length hair the color of molten gold; he looks like a hero out of a romance novel. The woman beside him is almost his visual opposite, being extremely small and petite, with raven hair in a tidy bun and startling, ice-blue eyes set in a pale face. She looks as delicate as porcelain next to him, and her head only comes up to his lower chest. Both of them, however, are strikingly beautiful, even for Sun Courtiers. They both look to be somewhere in their thirties. Lavinet turns to you formally as you approach. "Ah, <<c firstname>>, this is Lord Romar Ardelay—cousin of Lady Summerfield—and his wife, Lady Amerie. They've been incredibly kind to me since my arrival in Haven, and have gone out of their way to invite me to their home for all sorts of fetes and gatherings." "It's been our pleasure, dear Lavinet," Lady Amerie returns sweetly. "You have ever been a friend to Dianthe, and there is much to admire in your recent doings…" <<nobr>><<if $noblejoin is true>> <<set $petition += 2>> <br><br> Lord Romar is looking at you with interest. "So you are the famous <<c firstname>> <<c surname>>," he says in his deep voice. "We've heard much about you from our friends and relatives who were at Lockwood during the… recent troubles this past winter." He gives you a deep, sincere bow. "I understand that we owe you our thanks for their lives." <br><br> Lady Amerie also sweeps a curtsy, though she moves a bit stiffly, as if in pain. <br><br> "Lord Romar and Lady Amerie have graciously agreed to back our maneuver," Lavinet tells you in an undertone. "They'll add their names to our petition against De Vespe." <br><br> You glance at Romar and Amerie, a bit surprised. Could it be that easy? <br><br> Seemingly reading the expression on your face, Romar gives a rich laugh. "No, we don't ask for anything in return," he says. "We have heard from people we trust the good you Shepherds are trying to accomplish in the world. You have our support, at least for now. If you believe the High Court Mystic should be removed from her position… we will back you." <br><br> <<if $darktomesibella is false>> "I'm sure Lavinet has asked you if you've seen or heard anything we could use in our investigation against her," you say. <br><br> At this, Lord Romar grimaces. "Unfortunately not. Although Amerie and I are considered well-connected, we've had little occasion to even speak to Lady De Vespe. And from what I've heard, that's a fortunate thing." <br><br> "Unfortunately, we can't help you there," Amerie adds. It's difficult to get a read on her: her tone is diffident, or perhaps reserved, but her eyes are both dignified and piercing. "But we know others who might. Lady Rhienne, for example, has publicly bandied words with the High Court Mystic on one or two occasions." She tilts her head subtly towards a young lady nibbling finger sandwiches by herself, looking as if she's trying very hard not to look over at your group. <</if>> <<elseif $lockwood is "elementals">> <br><br> "I've been speaking to Lord Romar and Lady Amerie about potentially backing our maneuver," Lavinet tells you in an undertone. "Unfortunately, it seems they… have reservations." <br><br> You glance at Romar and Amerie, who maintain perfect composure. "It's just how things in Lockwood turned out," Romar explains in a neutral, albeit slightly lofty, tone—as if he doesn't feel as if he really has to explain himself to you. "We'd like to observe things further before committing ourselves to any particular cause." <br><br> "It's not as if we question your judgment," Amerie adds, mostly to Lavinet. "But we are well-connected, and have worked hard for our influence. We must act prudently if we are to maintain our position." <br><br> "Of course," Lavinet says graciously, even as she glances at you. What they're saying is that they <i>do</i> question your judgment. They must have heard about how you sided with the Elementals, presumably from their relatives and friends who were at Lockwood… <<else>> <br><br> Lord Romar is looking at you with interest. "So you are the famous <<c firstname>> <<c surname>>," he says in his deep voice. "We've heard much about you from our friends and relatives who were at Lockwood during the… recent troubles this past winter." He gives you a deep, sincere bow. "I understand that we owe you our thanks for their lives." <br><br> Lady Amerie also sweeps a curtsy, though she moves a bit stiffly, as if in pain. <br><br> "I was just discussing the possibility of Lord Romar and Lady Amerie backing our maneuver," Lavinet tells you in an undertone, her tone cautious. "Understandably, they have a few reservations…" <br><br> "De Vespe is a powerful enemy," Romar acknowledges, "and a formidable threat, judging by everything Lavinet's been telling us. We'd prefer to move cautiously before committing ourselves to such a public challenge. <<if $darktomesibella is false>> More evidence, of course, would be interesting…" <br><br> You nod slowly. "I'm sure Lavinet has asked you if you've seen or heard anything we could use in our investigation against her." <br><br> At this, Lord Romar grimaces. "Unfortunately not. Although Amerie and I are considered well-connected, we've had little occasion to even speak to Lady De Vespe. And from what I've heard, that's a fortunate thing." <br><br> "Unfortunately, we can't help you there," Amerie adds. It's difficult to get a read on her: her tone is diffident, or perhaps reserved, but her eyes are both dignified and piercing. "But we know others who might. Lady Rhienne, for example, has publicly bandied words with the High Court Mystic on one or two occasions." She tilts her head subtly towards a young lady nibbling finger sandwiches by herself, looking as if she's trying very hard not to look over at your group. <<else>> Even if she were found to be holding contraband, it would be prudent to understand the fallout of everything that might come to pass before moving injudiciously." <br><br> Lavinet throws you a somewhat hopeless glance. <i>I'm working on it</i>, she seems to say. <</if>> <</if>><</nobr>> <<nobr>><<if $intelligence >= 70 or $cunning >= 70>> <br><br> It doesn't escape your notice that Lord Romar's attention on you seems to be very… fixed. He's tense, as if he's trying very hard to act normal, and you get the sense that he's deliberately not looking anywhere in particular, keeping his focus solely on you. You wonder if the hidden current of strain you sense from him has anything to do with the young woman standing on the other side of the courtyard, sneaking glances at him from under her lashes. <br><br> His wife, if she notices anything, gives no indication at all. <<else>> <br><br> You decide to leave Lavinet to her conversation for now. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "suncourtiermissiongo">>

You approach the young lady standing in the corner, looking like she'd give anything to not talk to you right now. She glances away hastily and sips at her iced chalice, clearing her throat as you draw up to her and murmur an introduction. Your eyes narrow. To your trained eye, her shifty behavior screams both of guilt and of desperation not to be noticed. What is she hiding? The young lady introduces herself as Lady Rhienne Estare. She's perhaps in her early or mid-twenties, with tan, freckled skin and a remarkable fall of curly auburn hair that looks like burnished copper. She's dressed more boldly than many of the courtiers here, in a dark scarlet dress with a plunging neckline, which speaks to a fairly brazen and upfront personality—nothing like the fidgety, avoidant front she's presenting you with at the moment… <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Ask her if there's anything on her mind that you can help her with.</div>' 'rhiennehelpwith'>><<set $rhiennetalk to 0>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Ask her why she's standing here all alone.</div>' 'rhiennestandingalone'>><<set $rhiennetalk to 0>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Ignore her behavior and make polite conversation.</div>' 'rhiennepoliteconvo'>><<set $rhiennetalk to 0>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Lady Rhienne blinks rapidly at you, then looks away with a slight laugh. "No, but thank you," she says, politely enough. Her eyes flicker away from yours as she takes another sip of her drink. Is she looking at Lord Romar again? "I don't think anybody could help me with what's on my mind…" <<include "rhienneintroduce">>

Lady Rhienne glances at you in an expression trending towards amusement. She seems much more normal—or at least less remote—than many of the nobles you've encountered; there's something refreshingly frank or ironic about her expression for a moment. She says dryly, "It's by choice. I'm not feeling… very sociable today, that's all. So I gave my companions leave to socialize with friendlier faces for the time being." The pointed statement is unmistakable, and yet you can't help but feel intrigued. <i>Something's</i> going on here. Is she looking at Lord Romar again? <<include "rhienneintroduce">>

You and Lady Rhienne make some polite chitchat, but you can tell her heart's not in it. She keeps shifting from foot to foot, seemingly preoccupied and distracted. Is she looking at Lord Romar again? <<include "rhienneintroduce">>

<<nobr>><<if $rhiennetalk is 3>> <<include "rhienneinterrupt">> <<else>> <<include "rhiennetalkchoices">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("rhienneabouther")>><<link '<div class="question-item">Ask her about herself.</div>' 'rhienneabouther'>><<set $rhiennetalk += 1>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("rhiennesibella")>><<link '<div class="question-item">Ask her about Sibella de Vespe.</div>' 'rhiennesibella'>><<set $rhiennetalk += 1>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("rhiennelookingatromar")>><<link '<div class="question-item">Ask her why she keeps looking over at Romar and Amerie.</div>' 'rhiennelookingatromar'>><<set $rhiennetalk += 1>><</link>><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

"Oh," Lady Rhienne says with an unhappy shrug, "I'm heiress to the county of D'Arquitaine. I suppose I should tell you that that's quite important, in Sun Court terms. Our lands are famous for our forests, which in the old days were preserved as the king's land, and our armies were said to have repelled the Fae even further back from that—if you believe the stories. Our lands are also where important herbs and weeds are grown for medicine." She gives a shake of her wild auburn mane. "I'm twenty-four, I have one younger sister, I love animals and wanted to go into the convent to volunteer to help the sick, or learn to be a healer or physicker. My aunt forbade it, of course." "Your aunt?" you echo. Lady Rhienne shoots you a look, as if only just now realizing who you are and how clueless you must be to the workings and histories of the Sun Court. "My parents were assassinated when I was young," she replies. Is that why she seems so unhappy? <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm sorry. I lost my parents when I was young, too."</div>' 'rhiennecompassionate'>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Change the subject. "I think that's admirable that you would want to be a healer."</div>' 'rhienneadmirable'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>> <<if $specialization is "healer">><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm a Healer."</div>' 'rhiennehealer'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Nod towards Romar's group. "Have you met Lady Lavinet Naveen? I think you'd find you have a lot in common with her."</div>' 'rhiennelavinet'>><<setlavinet +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Remain unsympathetic. "I suppose that's a matter of course for Sun Courtiers and their various intrigues."</div>' 'rhienneunsympathetic'>><<setcompassionate -2>><<setcharisma -1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Lady Rhienne's face softens momentarily as she turns to regard you. She must see the truth in your face, because she looks away after a moment and gives a brisk nod. <<include "rhienneintroduce">>

Lady Rhienne's face softens momentarily, though she still seems guarded as she replies simply, "Thank you. I witnessed an outbreak of the crimson fever when I was young, and I've wanted to study medicine ever since." <<include "rhienneintroduce">>

Lady Rhienne shoots you a surprised look, her neck stiffening for a moment; she casts a doubtful look at your uniform, no doubt imagining the weapons you would be bristling with if you were outside the Sun Court. "I'm a Shepherd, but I specialize in healing," you amend. "Nowadays, I mostly treat field injuries, but…" It seems to have been almost the wrong thing to say, because instead of seeming impressed, Lady Rhienne is giving you an intense look of mingled longing, envy, and muted pain, so much so that it almost hurts to look at. After a moment, she only says in a thick, choked voice, "That's… that's wonderful." <<include "rhienneintroduce">>

Lady's Rhienne's face brightens momentarily. "Yes, I had heard that she had ambitions to be a cavalier, and did it despite her betters' protests… and now she's left her seat to join your military order. I would like to meet her." Then she glances over at Lavinet's group again, and her face falls. "Maybe when she's done with her conversation." <<include "rhienneintroduce">>

Lady Rhienne smiles bitterly. "Yes, I suppose so," she says, seemingly unaffected by your harsh statement. "Plenty of nobles are assassinated every year, either by their own rivals or other enemies… though that number has waned considerably in the last few years. The late Autarch lost her own husband that way, so it's not as if my case is anything unusual." <<include "rhienneintroduce">>

An expression of outright dislike crosses Lady Rhienne's face. "Lady De Vespe?" She crosses her slender arms; for the first time, you notice that she doesn't carry a fan. "Stay away from her. She's cruel, and she doesn't hesitate to use others to get what she wants." This seems promising. "You dislike her?" Lady Rhienne lets out a short laugh. "Dislike her? We can't stand each other. When she ascended to her current seat, I made an enemy of her by causing a scene at one of her parties. The way she treats her servants… I <i>hate</i> it. I told her it was absolutely barbaric, and it was galling that no one else had said anything to her about it. The Sun Court, for all they call it the Serpents' Feast, is supposed to be about <i>glamor</i> and <i>civility</i>—or at least the pretense of it. She doesn't even play that game well, and I told her so to her face." You can't help but feel a flicker of admiration. "What was she doing to her servants that you hated so much?" Lady Rhienne doesn't exactly curl her lip, but her fingers tighten over her arms. "She keeps them on these silver chains around their necks. Plays games with them. Parades them around at her parties like…" She trails off, disgust heavy in every line of her body. "At least the servants themselves don't seem to care. My guess is that those chains are enchanted, or something like that. They look as happy and besotted as lapdogs, practically fighting each other for the privilege of her touch." Something sour roils in the pit of your stomach as you imagine it. "Does the Autarch know about how she treats them?" At this, Lady Rhienne's spine stiffens, and she levels a long, almost wary look at you. Finally she says slowly, "Of course he does. Not much happens in the Sun Court without the Golden One's knowing. He was there at that party. She did it right in front of him." At your look, she almost smiles. "I would suggest you avoid most social events with Sun Courtiers if you want to enjoy yourself. They have an… odd idea of what constitutes fun." "You talk as if you're not one of them," you tell her. Lady Rhienne shrugs. "I am and I'm not," she replies. "I grew up far to the West, so although my lands are vast, I'm considered something of a provincial. I only came to the Sun Court when I was a fully-formed adult, and only then because…" She shakes her head. "Well, it's a long story, but I originally intended on giving up my title to my sister and going off to live as a healer or a nun, whichever came first. But my aunt made it clear that if I didn't do my duty as heir, she'd pass everything to my cousin, her son… and he's wretched. So here I am, until I can find someone who will marry me and take the burden of running things off my hands. And he does, of course, have to have the right… temperament as well, or else I might as well have just given the whole thing to my cousin after all." Her smile is grim and self-ironic. "As you might imagine, I haven't had much luck on that frontier. Especially now that I've gotten on the High Court Mystic's bad side. Even if there <i>was</i> somehow a good apple in this rotten bunch, it wouldn't behoove him much to be seen with me." <<include "rhienneintroduce">>

Lady Rhienne's eyes widen momentarily before her face slips into a courtier's blank. "What? I think you must be imagining things… I'm friends with the Ardelays, of course, but I'm not looking at them any more than I'm looking at anyone else." "If you're friends, why aren't you over there talking with them?" you ask. Lady Rhienne looks away. "I told you: I'm not feeling very sociable at the moment." <<include "rhienneintroduce">>

Before you can say anything more, however, a friend wanders over to interrupt your conversation. "Everything all right, Rhi?" A young man with coiffed red hair—possibly a relative—arches his brows at you, as if surprised by your belligerence. "I haven't seen that uniform before. Are you a palace guard?" "A Shepherd, Tav," Rhienne says quickly, taking his arm and pulling him away with her. "And we were just finishing up our conversation." The two of them slip away into the crowd, though their bright hair makes it easy to track them as they move to the other side of the courtyard, talking in low whispers. You watch them go for another moment, pondering your next course of action. Something is up here, but whether it has anything to do with your mission or Sibella de Vespe, you can't be sure. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if ($psionic >= 75 and $magic >= 75) or ($specialization is "enchanter" and $psionic >= 65)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Read Lady Rhienne's mind to unravel her secret.</div>' 'rhiennemindread'>><<setmagic +2>><<setpsionic +4>><<set $romarrhienneaffairknow to true>><</link>><</if>> <<if (($psionic < 75 or $magic < 75) and ($specialization != "enchanter" or $psionic < 65))>><div class="inactive-item">Read Lady Rhienne's mind to unravel her secret.</div><</if>> <<if ($psionic >= 80 and $magic >= 75) or ($specialization is "diviner" and $psionic >= 65)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Divine into the past to understand what has Lady Rhienne so on-edge.</div>' 'rhiennedivinepast'>><<setmagic +2>><<setpsionic +3>><<setstrength +1>><<set $romarrhienneaffairknow to true>><</link>><</if>> <<if (($psionic < 80 or $magic < 75) and ($specialization != "diviner" or $psionic < 65))>><div class="inactive-item">Divine into the past to understand what has Lady Rhienne so on-edge.</div><</if>> <<if $riel >= 80 or $rielromance is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Ask Riel for his opinion on what her body language indicates.</div>' 'rhiennerielopinion'>><<setriel +4>><<set $romarrhienneaffairknow to true>><</link>><</if>> <<if $riel < 80 and $rielromance is false>><div class="inactive-item">Ask Riel for his opinion on what her body language indicates.</div><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Give up. You won't pursue this any further.</div>' 'autogenerated_686222'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

You turn away from Lady Rhiene and decide to view your other prospects at this gathering. <<include 'suncourtiermissiongo'>>

You glance around furtively. Doing magic like this in the proximity of so many Sun Courtiers is certainly risky—you especially eye the few Court Mages standing on the fringes of the courtyard—but you don't feel the presence of any warding magic out here; you've come to realize that the magic-dampening spells would only be in a few select, protected locales throughout the Sun Court, like the Hall of Concordance or the Dawn Palace. Otherwise the Court Mages themselves couldn't work their own magic on a day-to-day basis, at least not without a lot of over-convoluted complications involved. In other words, it can't be a large, district-blanketing, all-encompassing restriction. So you most likely won't be detected if you try a subtle spell out here, so long as you avoid doing anything attention-grabbing or flashy. You position yourself against a column far enough away from Lady Rhienne and her relative that they won't notice you lurking, giving the appearance of simply resting for a moment in the shade and losing yourself to a reverie. Sipping at your chalice of punch, you send forth the slyest psychic probe, the tendrils of your mind winding towards Rhienne's mind in a casual, circumspect way, like the sideways brush of a stray cat rather than the piercing stab of a true mental attack. Concentrating hard, but keeping your expression relaxed, you single out Rhienne's intelligence among the sea of other lights; you glance against it, feeling her sincerity, quick strength, sharp tongue, youthful passion, present discomfort; and then slowly, carefully, you peel her mental defenses apart, like a thief quietly easing a single window open before worming their way inside the house. You're in. For a moment, you sit and look at the world through Rhienne's eyes: her cousin, Tavriel—familiar, a flame-headed little boy teasing her when she was five and he was ten, laughing at her childish vow to marry him—stands in front of her, saying in low tones, "We should go." Rhienne shakes her head; you feel her words forming in your own mouth as she says, her body heavy with weariness and sadness: "We can't. We promised we'd help the Viscount"—that's Viscount Avon Hatherton, who you gather from her thoughts introduced a political measure in the session this morning—"rally support for his proposal." "Yes, well, <i>I've</i> been doing that; you've just been standing around, looking destitute." Tavriel looks like he wants to shake her—<i>he's annoyed with me, of course he is, he always respected and admired me for not being like one of these Sun Court monsters and now I</i> <b><i>am</i></b>—as he says in an undertone, "You've got to stop looking over at him, Rhienne. Amerie's going to notice something if you do." "Maybe she should." Rhienne glances over at Romar again. Unbidden, a flicker of fresh feeling and memory leaps at you: you grab hold of it like a child cupping a firefly and feel pain burst throughout your body as if you'd grabbed a fistful of flame. <i>Romar, his golden hair spilling across his shoulders, perfect bronze skin everywhere, naked as the day he was born. Making love to her: sharp pain on the first thrust, then sleepy, spiraling pleasure.</i> <<page_break "..." "rhiennemindreadcontinue">>

<i>Meeting him for the first time, a year and a half before that—bonding together over their shared love of riding, though he liked to hunt and she simply rode for the enjoyment of it. It was an innocent friendship then. Of course she thought he was attractive, in the distant, assessing sense that all Sun Courtiers evaluated their peers and rivals, but he was married to Lady Amerie—an arranged marriage, but a happy enough one by all accounts: he had a stellar reputation, Lord Romar, and took his duties seriously, doting on his wife and presiding as master over his lands with an upright sense of duty and ethics not to be commonly found among their generation of depraved and sleepy-languid-often-cruel Sun Courtiers—and she'd long since given up any hopes on finding her match here in this den of serpents. They'd talked amiably for a while, then parted ways: they wouldn't see each other again for three months. She'd hardly even think of him.</i> <<page_break "..." "rhiennemindread2">>

<i>Then: Tavriel kidnapped on the road, held subtle-ransom by political rivals who wanted his sister to back down from pursuing a lover they coveted for their own heiress. Endless worry, nausea then. He was her only ally and trusted confidante here, and while the Autarch disapproved of nobles killing each other… accidents happened all the time.</i> <i>Romar and a handful of other nobles offering their support. He was sincere: he even offered to send his own military forces to rescue and retrieve Tav. Told her she owed him nothing for it (but everything always comes with a price in the Sun Court, doesn't it?). They spent weeks conspiring over it, talking it out. She came to rely on his strength, his steadiness. The attraction between them grew: a hidden glance there, a gentle touch there, late nights spent looking over maps of the enemy's estate and discussing the risks of their plan.</i> <i>Then the night of the raid. Tav's rescue. Joy and relief in turns. They'd embraced each other then, and oh, how she'd felt such a flame at his touch—that was how she knew she was in trouble. With her cousin returned, she distanced herself instantly and made excuses not to be alone with him again.</i> <<page_break "..." "rhiennemindread3">>

<i>Four months later, she received a marriage proposal. Not from Romar, of course: from a young arrogant buck called Danton Atherwaite. She gave herself more time to consider it purely as a way to forget her feelings. If she was married, and Romar was married, then of course she'd have to put it all behind her, wouldn't she? She wouldn't have to pine anymore, and perhaps she'd be able to content herself with her husband—who was not unbearable, exactly, only a bit of a brute and a bore—and perhaps one day he'd allow her to go into the city and do her charity work, and she'd forget the day Romar Ardelay ever touched her.</i> <<page_break "..." "rhiennemindread4">>

<i>Romar comes. Reminds her that she owes him a favor for rescuing her cousin. ("I thought you said I owed you nothing?" "I was wrong. But it's just the one request.") He asks her not to marry Danton. She asks him why—knowing full well what will happen. He kisses her in response. It's all over from there.</i> <<page_break "..." "rhiennemindread5">>

<i>Their affair lasts six months. They are exceptionally careful, so much so that not even the most keen-eyed gossips seem to suspect. Only her chambermaid seems to know, and Lier has known Rhienne since infancy: she won't betray her. The relationship itself is ecstasy: midnight rendezvous in moonlit gardens, hours of lying in bed and talking through the night, every caress a line of fire. She feels so <b>safe</b>. She loves him entirely.</i> <i>Lady Amerie spends most months at their estate in Merrithen, in the North, having little stomach for Sun Court politics and more interest in governing their holding while Romar presses their interests in Haven. Many married couples here live this way. It affords she and Romar ample time to court each other, though they never speak of what will happen when the affair comes to an end. He tells her that he's never felt this way about anybody, never even knew it was possible. He'd thought love was what he felt for his wife, whom he'd met only four months before their wedding: easy, pleasant companionship, earnest goodwill, a desire to protect and lighten each other's burdens. But what he feels for Rhienne… The passion, the devouring ardor, the honesty and even the obsession… If only they'd met each other before.</i> <i>She asks him not to say that again.</i> <<page_break "..." "rhiennemindread6">>

<i>It's shortly after that that he comes to her and tells her that Amerie is pregnant. Tells her that he needs to remember his duties, that he needs to care for his wife and re-devote himself to his family and the new coming child. The look in his eyes is <b>agony</b>. He looks as if he wants to wrench his own heart out of his chest and fling it far away from him.</i> <i>She knows he's telling the truth: that this is not because his feelings flamed out, or that he lost interest now that the excitement of the affair has worn off. He is a responsible, dutiful man: it's part of the reason why she fell in love with him. If he'd acted any other way upon learning this news, she'd be disappointed in him. Disillusioned, even.</i> <i>But he loves her. She can see it in his eyes, in the strained effort it takes for him to not look at her whenever they're in the same room. He loves her more than he can say—she has no reason to doubt that.</i> <i>That just makes things even worse.</i> <<page_break "..." "rhiennemindreadend">>

"Would you like me to refresh your drink?" The bland, incurious eyes of the servant in front of you seem to waver like a mirage for an instant before you jolt back to reality, handing over your empty, melting drink with a muttered thanks. Your heart beating fast, you try to shake yourself out of Rhienne's memories, carefully extracting yourself from the young woman's mind like the thief easing back out of the window. She doesn't even turn her head from where she's deep in conversation with Tav. You clear your throat and shake out your sleeves, flexing your fingers to reacquaint yourself with being back in your own body as you pull away from the column. So… Lord Romar and Lady Rhienne had a months-long affair. Lady Amerie doesn't know. It's certainly interesting information, but is there any way you can use it to further your mission? <<include "suncourtiermissiongo">>

This will be a bit tricky, for a few different reasons. Doing magic like this in the proximity of so many Sun Courtiers is certainly risky—you especially eye the few Court Mages standing on the fringes of the courtyard—but you don't feel the presence of any warding magic out here; you've come to realize that the magic-dampening spells would only be in a few select, protected locales throughout the Sun Court, like the Hall of Concordance or the Dawn Palace. Otherwise the Court Mages themselves couldn't work their own magic on a day-to-day basis, at least not without a lot of over-convoluted complications involved. So you most likely won't be detected if you try a subtle spell out here. However, divining into someone's past typically requires a talisman or focus to bend your magic on, which means you'll need something of Lady Rhienne's: something that's been around her long enough to absorb the kind of energies you want to tap into. In addition to that, you'll need privacy: divination typically has you falling into a trance-like state, a condition that would be obvious to anyone observing you closely. It takes you a few minutes to put together a plan. You ask a nearby servant in an undertone to direct you to a lavatory—fending off her bland insistence on accompanying you there personally—before making your way there, brushing past Lady Rhienne as you slip out of the courtyard. She hardly notices you—now she's engrossed in cordial conversation with an older, gray-haired aristocrat and one of his guests—and doesn't turn her head as you brush against the back of her skirt, subtly plucking off one of the pearls sewn into a back pleat. It's a gamble, but it pays off: the tiny pearl comes away in your hand with no resistance at all, having been fixed there by a single thread. Lady Rhienne's voluminous petticoat ensures that she wouldn't have even felt you touch her. You make your way into an opulent wash closet in one of the buildings placed a few steps away from the outer courtyard (fending off another puzzled-looking servant who seems to think you need their personal help getting undressed to use the toilet). Locking the door behind you, you fill the washbasin with clear, sparkling water. Then you clasp the pearl within your hand, calm your mind and slow your heart, take a breath… and let yourself drop into Lady Rhienne's past. <<page_break "..." "rhiennedivinecontinue">>

<i>Romar, his golden hair spilling across his shoulders, perfect bronze skin everywhere, naked as the day he was born. Making love to her: sharp pain on the first thrust, then sleepy, spiraling pleasure.</i> <i>Meeting him for the first time, a year and a half before that—bonding together over their shared love of riding, though he liked to hunt and she simply rode for the enjoyment of it. It was an innocent friendship then. Of course she thought he was attractive, in the distant, assessing sense that all Sun Courtiers evaluated their peers and rivals, but he was married to Lady Amerie—an arranged marriage, but a happy enough one by all accounts: he had a stellar reputation, Lord Romar, and took his duties seriously, doting on his wife and presiding as master over his lands with an upright sense of duty and ethics not to be commonly found among their generation of depraved and sleepy-languid-often-cruel Sun Courtiers—and she'd long since given up any hopes on finding her match here in this den of serpents. They'd talked amiably for a while, then parted ways: they wouldn't see each other again for three months. She'd hardly even think of him.</i> <<page_break "..." "rhiennedivine2">>

<i>Then: Cousin Tavriel kidnapped on the road, held subtle-ransom by political rivals who wanted his sister to back down from pursuing a lover they coveted for their own heiress. Endless worry, nausea then. He was her only ally and trusted confidante here, and while the Autarch disapproved of nobles killing each other… accidents happened all the time.</i> <i>Romar and a handful of other nobles offering their support. He was sincere: he even offered to send his own military forces to rescue and retrieve Tav. Told her she owed him nothing for it (but everything always comes with a price in the Sun Court, doesn't it?). They spent weeks conspiring over it, talking it out. She came to rely on his strength, his steadiness. The attraction between them grew: a hidden glance there, a gentle touch there, late nights spent looking over maps of the enemy's estate and discussing the risks of their plan.</i> <i>Then the night of the raid. Tav's rescue. Joy and relief in turns. They'd embraced each other then, and oh, how she'd felt such a flame at his touch—that was how she knew she was in trouble. With her cousin returned, she distanced herself instantly and made excuses not to be alone with him again.</i> <<page_break "..." "rhiennedivine3">>

<i>Their affair lasts six months. They are exceptionally careful, so much so that not even the most keen-eyed gossips seem to suspect. Only her chambermaid seems to know, and Lier has known Rhienne since infancy: she won't betray her. The relationship itself is ecstasy: midnight rendezvous in moonlit gardens, hours of lying in bed and talking through the night, every caress a line of fire. She feels so <i>safe</i>. She loves him entirely.</i> <i>Lady Amerie spends most months at their estate in Merrithen, in the North, having little stomach for Sun Court politics and more interest in governing their holding while Romar presses their interests in Haven. Many married couples here live this way. It affords them ample time to court each other, though they never speak of what will happen when the affair comes to an end. He tells her that he's never felt this way about anybody, never even knew it was possible. He'd thought love was what he felt for his wife, whom he'd met only four months before their wedding: easy, pleasant companionship, earnest goodwill, a desire to protect and lighten each other's burdens. But what he feels for Rhienne… The passion, the devouring ardor, the honesty and even the obsession… If only they'd met each other before.</i> <i>She asks him not to say that again.</i> <<page_break "..." "rhiennedivine6">>

By the time you make your way out of the lavatory—dropping the pearl down the draining sink before you do—you're once again composed and readjusted to experiencing things in your own body. So… Lord Romar and Lady Rhienne had a months-long affair. Lady Amerie doesn't know. It's certainly interesting information, but is there any way you can use it to further your mission? <<include "suncourtiermissiongo">>

You wait until Riel has a break in his current conversation before sidling up to him and touching his elbow. He turns instantly and guides you to a quieter corner of the courtyard, as smooth and unruffled as anything. "Lady Rhienne Estare," you murmur to him in an undertone, indicating the young lady as subtly as possible. "She's hiding something, and I'm curious to know what." Riel casts an indifferent glance over to the lady in question, his blue eyes flickering back and forth between her and Romar before he answers, "If you want my guess, I'd say they had an affair. She and the man Lavinet is speaking to. I believe his name is Lord Romar Ardelay, lord of Merrithen." He's silent for another moment, watching, his head slightly tilted as he considers the scene. "It was an affair of emotion, not just flesh. It lasted some months. They both agreed to put an end to it—probably because the lord's wife, Lady Amerie, is pregnant, though she's not yet obviously showing. They ended things some months ago, but they still believe themselves to be ardently in love with each other. But they're trying to be"—he snorts—"dutiful and ethical about it. It's a very martyr-like scene. It would be easier on them both if they didn't have these lingering feelings, but they're trying to soldier through it and keep everything above-board, believing themselves to be very noble and self-sacrificing for it." Then he glances at you with a look of dry amusement, a slight smirk on his lips. "Is that what you needed to know?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $rielromance is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Kiss his cheek briefly when no one's looking. "Yes. You're brilliant, by the way."</div>' 'rielkiss'>><<setriel +1>><<set $rielromanceflag += 1>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Squeeze his hand quickly. "Yes. Thank you."</div>' 'rielsqueeze'>><<setriel +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Shake your head wonderingly. "How can you be so sure?"</div>' 'rielwondering'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Although Riel stiffens slightly at this 'public' display of affection, his smirk remains. "Yes, I know." He squeezes your arm briefly. "Call me if you need me. And happy hunting." <<include "suncourtiermissiongo">>

<<nobr>><<if $rielromanceflag >= 10>> <<set $rielromanceflag += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> He smiles quietly at you. "You're welcome. Call me if you need me." He tilts his head, almost playfully. "And happy hunting." <<include "suncourtiermissiongo">>

Riel shrugs lightly. "It's just my best guess. And Sun Courtiers are rather cliché, at least when it comes to the mundanity of their domestic lives. I doubt you could throw a stone in here without hitting someone who wasn't engaged in an affair." Still. "Are you sure you aren't a Mage?" He gives you a ghostly kind of smile. "I think I would even be frightened of myself if I were." <<include "suncourtiermissiongo">>

Gearing up your nerve, you decide to approach Lady Rhienne again, now that her cousin seems to have left the luncheon altogether. She regards you warily, but makes no move to stop you from once again taking up a position beside her as you both survey the party. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Come right out with it. "I know about the affair."</div>' 'rhienneknowaffair'>><<setcourage +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Tilt your head towards Lord Romar. "I don't blame you for looking over at him so much. He's a handsome man."</div>' 'rhiennehandsomeman'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Hold your tongue. This isn't really any of your business.</div>' 'rhienneholdtongue'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

For a frozen moment, Rhienne doesn't say anything, and her expression remains heavy-lidded, languid, almost bored. Finally she murmurs, raising her chalice to her lips without looking at you: "I'm sure I don't know what you mean." You sigh. "You and Romar had an affair, but he broke it off after discovering his wife is pregnant. I know it's true, so you might as well not waste any time trying to deny it." <<include "rhiennebrokenbreath">>

Rhienne jolts as if you'd pricked her with a needle. After a moment, she murmurs, "Yes, he's handsome, though he's one of many. The Sun Court provides diversions of that sort as far as the eye can see." But when she raises her chalice to her lips, you see that her hand is trembling slightly. You keep your voice bland. "I suppose living here makes you familiar with all of the <i>diversions</i> it has to offer. Though to some, they're not always meaningless distractions." Now Rhienne looks at you sharply. "What exactly are you implying?" You sigh. "Let's just say that you're not exactly being subtle with your longing glances. You're clearly in love with Romar, and he with you; and if you don't want his wife discovering your secret, you'd better hope something changes." <<include "rhiennebrokenbreath">>

Lady Rhienne regards you sidelong, her chin tilted up in a display of unimpressed aloofness; but now that you've had such an intimate look into her past and who she is, it's hard not to see the pain and vulnerability she's trying to navigate on her own. After a few stilted moments of idle chitchat, you decide to leave her alone again. <<include "suncourtiermissiongo">>

Lady Rhienne draws a broken, ragged breath, her back rounding ever-so-slightly as if you'd punched her in the gut. For several moments, she's speechless, and you keep your gaze cool and unaffected as you scan the crowds for anyone who might notice the shattered expression on her face. Finally she turns to you, tears sparkling like fiery diamonds in her eyes, and whispers, with almost hateful passion: "What do you <i>want</i>?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"To help you. You don't deserve this pain."</div>' 'rhiennetohelp'>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"To get rid of Sibella de Vespe, that's all. I have no personal interest in your individual drama."</div>' 'rhiennegetridof'>><<setloyal +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Whatever you'll give me to ensure that this won't get out."</div>' 'rhienneblackmail'>><<setcompassionate -1>><<setloyal -1>><<setcunning +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Rhienne scoffs, a little disbelievingly. "But we don't know each other. Am I really to believe that you care about my wellbeing? What are you really…" Then she trails off and looks at you with a new look of calculation in her eyes. <<include "rhienneyoureamage">>

Rhienne scoffs, a little disbelievingly. "De Vespe? But I told you, I…" Then she trails off and looks at you with a new look of calculation in her eyes. <<include "rhienneyoureamage">>

For a moment, Lady Rhienne looks at you, incredulous and speechless. Then she looses a bitter, hard laugh, the sound so brittle it's almost grating to your ears. "Bravo," she says, her smile now mocking—and fearless. "You'd make a fine Sun Courtier. Unfortunately for you, you chose the wrong target: I have <i>nothing</i> to give you. Even if you spilled my secrets and ruined me, it'd be a relief. So you might as well do it, if you truly have the nerve." And with that, she turns her back on you and storms away, cutting through the crowd like a seabird diving through a school of fish. A few people notice her exit and glance inquisitively in your direction, but you turn away before anyone thinks to ask what you did to upset the noblewoman so. <<include "suncourtiermissiongo">>

"You're a Mage, aren't you?" she asks you then. "I've been reading in books of medicine that… that there are some among you who can… who can seal away memories, or extract them, or whatever it is. Make a person forget something that causes them nightmares or pain. Can you do anything like that?" "It is possible," you acknowledge carefully, though it borders on forbidden magic, even among Magekind. No one likes the idea of their memories being tampered with on that level: it's essentially what's so abhorrent about Sibella de Vespe and her mind-altering geas. "Are you wanting to make yourself forget something?" Lady Rhienne shakes her head. "Not me." She tilts her head towards Lady Amerie and Lord Romar; Lavinet has now moved away to speak to other parties. "<i>Romar</i>. If you can—if you can make him forget our affair, make him forget he loves me… <<nobr>><<if $darktomesibella is false>> I'll tell you all I can about Sibella de Vespe." <<else>> I'll do whatever I can to help you get rid of Sibella de Vespe." <</if>><</nobr>> <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Recoil. Alter the man's memories without his consent? The idea is anathema to you.</div>' 'rhiennerecoil'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Regard her warily. "Why would you ask me for such a thing?"</div>' 'rhienneregardwarily'>><</link>> <<if $darktomesibella is false>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Look at her with interest. "How do I know that the information you have is worthwhile?"</div>' 'rhienneinterest'>><</link>><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

Rhienne sees the look on your face and moves to catch your sleeve, almost as if to stop you from running away. "<i>Please</i>," she says in that broken way. "I <i>love</i> him. That's why I ask you for this: it would be a kindness. He's going to be a father, he's committed to stay a husband to Amerie; his memories of what happened, his love of me, is only causing him dreadful pain and unhappiness." She shakes her head. "My aunt is ill, and if she dies within the year, I'm going to leave the Sun Court and give everything to my sister. I'll go away, seek my own fortune, and never come back. But the only thing that's holding me back is the idea of Romar—suffering—alone. I can't leave if I think he'll always be looking for me, looking at the hole I've left in his life, wondering where I am, regretting everything, wanting to come find me. But I can't stay, either. Either way, he can't give all of himself to his wife and family as long as he has feelings for me. Don't you see? He's already made his choice. It'd be better for us both if he could just—forget." <<include "rhienneinterruption">>

"Because I <i>love</i> him," Rhienne says fiercely. "That's why I ask you for this: it would be a kindness. He's going to be a father, he's committed to stay a husband to Amerie; his memories of what happened, his love of me, is only causing him dreadful pain and unhappiness." She shakes her head. "My aunt is ill, and if she dies within the year, I'm going to leave the Sun Court and give everything to my sister. I'll go away, seek my own fortune, and never come back. But the only thing that's holding me back is the idea of Romar—suffering—alone. I can't leave if I think he'll always be looking for me, looking at the hole I've left in his life, wondering where I am, regretting everything, wanting to come find me. But I can't stay, either. Either way, he can't give all of himself to his wife and family as long as he has feelings for me. Don't you see? He's already made his choice. It'd be better for us both if he could just—forget." <<include "rhienneinterruption">>

Rhienne tilts her head, gazing back at you with an equal measure of cunning. "You want to defang De Vespe, don't you?" she asks softly. "I have made a public enemy of her, so it was in my best interest to arm myself with any useful knowledge I could gather, in case she ever decided to come after me with renewed force. I may not have the power to put together the entire picture myself… but I know things about her that could help you." <<include "rhienneinterruption">>

Before you can say much more, however, an iron-haired older man sporting expensive velvet brocade and a very upright posture approaches you, the expression in his eyes one of austere forewarning. "Rhienne? Is everything all right?" Lady Rhienne forces a bright smile as you both turn to address him. "Yes, Viscount. Just sharing a conversation with <<c rank>> <<c surname>> here." The nobleman glances at you, his eyes wary and his lip tightening into an expression of mingled dislike or disdain. "Yes, I see. Well, I'm on my way out, but I'd like to discuss the matter of Arden's proposal for a moment…" You take the opportunity to slip away for the moment, contemplating Rhienne's bizarre request… and all the implications that may come with it. <<include "suncourtiermissiongo">>

Romar and Amerie glance at you curiously as you approach; they now stand with two other women, one of them resembling Amerie (a sister? a cousin?), the other appearing to be an unrelated party. Lavinet has disappeared and is presumably gathering other names in support of your cause. "Nice to see you again," Romar says with a hint of ironic joviality. "How are you liking your taste of court politics?" "You've been circulating through the courtyard well," Amerie adds in her more polite, demure tone. "Was Lady Rhienne able to tell you anything useful?" To his credit, Romar doesn't even bat an eye. Why would he? He has no reason to suspect you know anything about him or his paramour. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Deflect attention away from Rhienne. "Not any more than anyone else, but the day is still early."</div>' 'romarconversation'>><<setcunning +1>><<setcharisma +1>><<setloyal +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Make direct eye contact with Romar. "Oh, yes. She had <i>many</i> useful things to say, indeed."</div>' 'romardirect'>><<setcunning +1>><<setcourage +1>><<setcompassionate -1>><<setloyal -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Address Amerie. "Why do you ask about Rhienne specifically?"</div>' 'romaraddressamerie'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Something flashes in Romar's eyes, though you can't tell what it is before he turns away from the conversation and bends his head to listen to a remark of Amerie's relative, smiling and nodding along with her as if he doesn't have a care in the world. However, a certain tension in his neck and shoulders belies his unease. <<include "romarconversation">>

She arches a delicate brow. "<i>Lady</i> Rhienne," she corrects, though her tone isn't angry, merely firm. Then she adds, "I saw you deep in conversation with her a few different times, so I thought she had something to tell you about Sibella de Vespe. Although she styles herself as something like a rural provincial, she's a far more canny opponent than many might expect." Lord Romar turns away from the conversation and bends his head to listen to a remark of Amerie's relative, smiling and nodding as if he has no interest in your discussion at all. <<include "romarconversation">>

You make conversation for a few more minutes—just enough time to not seem too abrupt or urgent—before you turn to Romar and ask casually, "Would you happen to know where Lavinet went? There's something I'd like to tell her." Lady Amerie is now deep in a conversation with her relative and a few other nobles, so she doesn't seem to notice at all when Romar nods and leads you away from the group. <<page_break "..." "romarprivate">>

You walk for a few moments in tense silence, drawing away from the courtyard and its gathering altogether and passing through a series of empty side courtyards and arcades. Romar finally stops when he finds a tiny hedge garden concealing the both of you from sight, evidently deeming it private enough before he turns to you and arches a single inquiring brow. For a moment, the two of you say nothing, though you both plainly see there's something to say. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Blackmail him. "I know about your affair with Lady Rhienne. If you don't want it getting out, you'll do as I say."</div>' 'romarblackmail'>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setloyal -5>><<setcunning +3>><<setreputation -5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Urge him to confess to his wife. "If you don't tell Amerie about your affair with Lady Rhienne, I will."</div>' 'romarconfess'>><<setcompassionate +2>><<setloyal +2>><<setcunning -5>><</link>> <<if ($psionic >= 90 and $magic >= 80) or ($specialization is "enchanter" and $psionic >= 85)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Wipe his memories of his affair with Rhienne.</div>' 'wiperomarsmemories'>><<setmagic +3>><<setpsionic +5>><<setcompassionate -3>><<setorder -3>><<set $romarwipe to true>><</link>><</if>> <<if (($psionic < 90 or $magic < 80) and ($specialization != "enchanter" or $psionic < 85))>><div class="inactive-item">Wipe his memories of his affair with Rhienne.</div><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Tell him that Rhienne asked you to wipe his memories of their affair.</div>' 'romartelldirect'>><<setcourage +1>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> <<if $cunning >= 75 and $intelligence >= 50>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Bluff. You only led him away to give the <i>appearance</i> of wiping his memories. You'll leave him alone, but lie to Rhienne about it so she'll give up what she knows.</div>' 'romarbluff'>><<setcunning +5>><<setcompassionate -3>><<set $romarwipelie to true>><</link>><</if>> <<if $cunning < 75 or $intelligence < 50>><div class="inactive-item">Bluff. You only led him away to give the <i>appearance</i> of wiping his memories. You'll leave him alone, but lie to Rhienne about it so she'll give up what she knows.</div><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Do nothing. You can't do any of this, not even to take down Sibella de Vespe.</div>' 'romardonothing'>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setcunning -2>><<setcourage +1>><<setloyal -1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $noblejoin is true>> <<set $petition -= 2>> <</if>> <<set $lavinet -= 10>> <<set $petition -= 1>> <<set $army -= 1>> <<set $resources -= 1>> <<set $order -= 5>><</nobr>>Romar's mouth slackens; he looks like he can hardly fathom what he's hearing. "<i>What</i>?" You look him dead in the eye. "I know about your affair," you repeat. "All of it: Rhienne, how it started with her cousin's abduction, how you ended it once you found out your wife was pregnant. I know about it all. And if you don't want me telling everyone at this luncheon about it, you'll give me what I want." Romar actually laughs, incredulous, as if he can't believe you're actually being serious—as if you might crack a smile and tell him that of course this is a prank. "What could you possibly want from me?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $noblejoin is false>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"You and your wife's names on our petition against De Vespe."</div>' 'romarblackmaildone'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Information on Sibella de Vespe."</div>' 'romarblackmaildone'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Money."</div>' 'romarblackmaildone'>><<setloyal -5>><<setcunning +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Access to your political connections."</div>' 'romarblackmaildone'>><<setcunning +2>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Romar stares at you for a moment, still dumbfounded. His fist at his side tightens, and for a moment you tense, thinking he's about to swing at you… but instead, he only shakes his head, his golden hair brushing against his shoulders. "Unbelievable," he mutters to himself, glowering at you from beneath his brows. "Of all of the hare-brained, infantile schemes to try… you would risk blackmailing <i>me</i>? This is the Sun Court, you imbecile. I've been surviving its machinations longer than you've known how to <i>read</i>." He shakes his head at you again, his expression not one of fear or shame but of simple contempt and disgust. "Do what you will, <<c surname>>. Tell others of your stories if you think that will gain you anything but pain and enmity. Either way, you'll rue the day you ever tried to harm me and my family." With those ominous words, he turns and leaves you standing in the middle of the hedges. …Oops. That didn't go exactly as you thought. <<page_break "..." "romarblackmailend">>

By the time you return to the courtyard luncheon, Romar and his party have disappeared. So has Lady Rhienne. You think some people are gazing at you with open suspicion, so something must have been said about you… but they turn away and busy themselves with more pleasant conversation when you try and meet their gazes, leaving you to stand there alone. <<include "suncourtiermissiongo">>

Romar's mouth slackens; he looks like he can hardly fathom what he's hearing. "<i>What</i>?" You look him dead in the eye. "You need to tell your wife about your affair," you repeat. "I know about all of it: Rhienne, how it started with her cousin's abduction, how you ended it once you found out your wife was pregnant. And if <i>I</i> know, Amerie certainly deserves to know. She needs to know the truth so she can make her choices, understand the man she's married. Otherwise—" <<nobr>><<if $strength >= 65>> It's lucky you have Shepherd training: Lord Romar broadcasts his intentions a mere second before he moves, but that's still enough time for you to tense in readiness as he clenches his fist. Your instant preparedness is enough to allay him, and rather than swinging his fist in the punch he clearly longs to land, he instead relaxes his hand and takes a step back from you, loosing a long, shaky breath. <<else>> For all your Shepherd training, you're still not quick enough to dodge Romar's punch: he must have military training, and it feels as if you've been slugged in the jaw with a solid oaken club. Stars explode in your vision, and when they clear, you're lying on your back in the wet grass as Romar stands over you, his eyes shadowed and dangerous. <br><br> After another moment, he takes a step back from you, relaxing his fist and loosing a long, shaky breath. <</if>><</nobr>> "I'll do you a mercy and pretend you didn't just say that," Romar warns in soft, deadly tones. "Don't you ever speak upon me or my family again, <<c surname>>. And if I see you come near my wife, I'll have you clapped in chains and dragged away to the dungeons faster than you can blink. <i>Stay away from us</i>. I won't say it twice." You watch him turn and storm out of the hedge garden, the anger practically steaming from his pores and his hair glinting gold in the fine spring sunlight. By the time you return to the courtyard, Romar, Amerie, and their party have vanished… and so has Lady Rhienne. Well. That went about as well as you could expect. <<include "suncourtiermissiongo">>

Although the idea of sealing away someone's core memories—particularly ones as important and transformative as memories of love—leaves a bad taste in your mouth, the idea of Sibella de Vespe gaining control of the Shepherds is worse. Besides, maybe Rhienne is right… maybe you'd be doing both of them a mercy. Romar is wholly unprepared for your psionic attack; he only has time to gasp before you're shredding his mental defenses apart like tissue paper. He staggers, and you catch him and ease him to the ground, grateful for the concealing shrubbery as the man goes limp and slack under the smothering, soporific influence of your magic. You grant Romar the gift of restful unconsciousness before you methodically turn to purging his mind of his love of Rhienne; thankfully, you only have to riffle through the memories of the last year rather than that of his entire lifetime, but this is still the most complicated thing you've ever had to do in terms of tampering with someone's thoughts. Normally, pilfering someone's memories or secrets is like sneaking into their house without alerting them, creeping through labyrinthine rooms and corners and easing open locked drawers and chests to find what you need before slipping back out. However, <i>taking</i> their memories is another thing entirely, more akin to breaking into someone's house, selectively taking down specific paintings and bearing away entire wardrobes or pieces of jewelry, and then <i>letting them back into that house without ever letting on that anything was stolen</i>. If you want to do a good job of it, you have to forge entirely new paintings to replace the ones you take, construct subtly-different wardrobes and armoires and sometimes even rooms, and then make it all so convincing that the victim would never suspect the change, or have cause to believe that an intruder had tampered with anything to begin with. It's monstrously difficult work that leaves you sweating and almost nauseous in the fine spring sunlight. Above all, and perhaps with a terrible sense of irony, it leaves you with a reluctant appreciation for the scope of Sibella de Vespe's work and powers. The subtlety, almost the artistry, she must operate with is almost mind-boggling… and what you're doing is only a tenth of what she does to those she places under her geas. Your stomach rebels at the unavoidable parallels, but you master yourself and continue on with your work. Soon enough, you're helping Romar to his feet as he blinks rapidly, looking around as if in a daze. "…I'm sorry. I thought this was where Lavinet was headed, but it seems I was mistaken." You give him a tired, bland smile. "No harm done." <<page_break "..." "wiperomarsmemoriesdone">>

It's finished—Romar will have no memories of his interactions with Rhienne, hopefully for the rest of his life, as you've replaced the last year with periods of "overwork," the excuses he gave to Amerie now made real in his mind—and it's only a half-hour later before you lead Romar back to the party and let him return to the gaggle of his friends and relatives. You might be imagining it, but externally, he seems a bit lighter, more chipper and at ease, his smile genuine and warm as he approaches them and claps a friend playfully on the back. Amerie smiles in a surprised but pleased way when he loops his arm around her shoulders and bends to plant a peck on her cheek. <<include "suncourtiermissiongo">>

Romar's mouth slackens; he looks like he can hardly fathom what he's hearing. "<i>What</i>?" You explain, in brief, how you know about his details of his affair with Lady Rhienne, and how she asked you to rid him of his memories to spare him the pain they've both been feeling. But you can't, in good conscience, tamper with a man's fundamental, transformative memories in that way… not without his knowing permission, anyway. Romar sputters, clearly struggling to absorb this information. "Of course I don't consent to that!" he says, his bronze face half-mottled with shocked anger and outrage. "I could never—the fact that Rhienne would even propose such a thing—" "She did it out of love for you," you point out. "She doesn't want you to suffer any longer." Romar draws himself up to his impressive, expansive height. "I am not a child," he says coldly. "And I do not need you or Rhienne to protect me, to—to shield me from the consequences of my own actions. And to propose <i>altering</i> me in such a way—without my knowledge—that doesn't strike me as very loving. It sounds convenient. Dismissive. Dehumanizing. As if you <i>know</i> better, and you can simply remove what you want at your leisure if it creates the best outcome for everyone involved… according to <i>Rhienne</i>, anyway." He shakes his head. "I… I can't believe she would do such a thing to me. I thought… she respected me more than that, at least." "Does it really matter what she feels about you?" you ask. "Seeing as how your affair is over?" Romar looks at you warily. "No. I suppose it doesn't." <<page_break "..." "romartelldirectend">>

You discuss it for a few moments more, but Romar is adamant: he'd rather die than have his memories tampered with in such a way. You can't exactly blame him—it is, after all, what's so repulsive about Sibella de Vespe's behavior as she off-handedly tinkers with people's minds to her liking—but rather than thanking you for alerting him to Rhienne's request, Romar makes a hasty exit from the hedge garden, as if afraid you'll change your mind and rip his memories from him, anyway. By the time you make it back to the courtyard, Romar, Amerie, and their party are gone… and Rhienne is standing there, looking at you as if she knows exactly what you've done. After another moment of staring at you with a ravaged, devastated expression, she turns her back and walks away. <<include "suncourtiermissiongo">>

By the time she figures out the deception—if ever—there will be nothing she can do about it. In the best case scenario, she'll be able to leave the Sun Court in peace and unburdened by guilt, and you won't have to alter Romar's fundamental, core memories… and both of them will be none the wiser. "I wanted to ask you about your cousin, Lady Summerfield," you say. Romar gives you a perfectly incredulous look. "What? I…" He frowns at you. "That's all? You seemed as if you had something important to say." You gaze back at him with perfect innocence. "Really? I was wondering why you led me away from the party, but I figured it was because you had something to say to <i>me</i>." Lord Romar seems speechless for a moment. Finally he shakes his head with a sigh and says, "I see. It was a misunderstanding, then. What did you want to know about my cousin?" You make idle chitchat for a few moments, and it's clear from his increasingly disbelieving look that Lord Romar is forced to accept that you're something of a simpleton. After a little while, he makes his excuses and extricates himself from the (admittedly-tedious) conversation, making his way back to the party with a shake of his head. You follow, thinking that you'd rather he believe you to be a fool than a monster. <<include "suncourtiermissiongo">>

Romar gives you an unimpressed look when you decline to speak. "Well? It seemed as if you had something to say to me." You gaze back at him with perfect innocence. "Really? I thought <i>you</i> had something to say to <i>me</i>." "…What? I—" He looks rather incredulous that you would dare waste his time like this, but in the face of your bland guilelessness, he apparently has to accept that you are simply a hopeless simpleton. Sighing in irritation, he shakes his head and makes his way back to the party. You follow, thinking that you'd rather he believe you to be a fool than a monster. <<include "suncourtiermissiongo">>

<<set $petition += 1>> Rhienne is practically vibrating with nervous energy by the time you sidle back to her position in the corner of the courtyard. "Well?" she demands, her voice high and anxious. "Is it—?" You keep your face neutral in case any nearby witnesses are observing your conversation. "It's done. If you stay away from Romar, he won't remember your affair. You can go your own way in peace, and he can go back to being the content family man he was before he met you." You can't describe the expression that comes over her face then: you can't tell if it's monumental relief, almost akin to a sinner being granted absolution by a god, or that same mingled expression of grief, longing, and pain that she's been concealing all along. Whatever it is, Rhienne looses a long, slow breath like she hasn't been able to release the tension in her lungs for months. "Thank you," she says finally in a low voice, casting her eyes down. You think a glimmer might coat her thick eyelashes, but when she looks up again, her expression is once again calm, resolute, and determined. "I… I can't tell you how grateful I am that you did that. And that you didn't misuse this information against us." Her expression clears a little as she looks at you more closely and adds, "How <i>did</i> you find out about it, anyway? We were so careful, and told no one…" "I have my ways," you say evasively. <<nobr>><<if $darktomesibella is false>> "And you were saying you had something to tell me about Sibella de Vespe that would help my investigation." <br><br> <<set $sibellaevidence += 1>> "Ah," Rhienne says. "Yes, that." She drops her voice as she shifts closer to you, though she keeps her expression casual and unconcerned. "Well—perhaps you know that some of our servants talk. They're typically selected for their loyalty, but if you treat them poorly well enough… even the meekest can have loosened tongues. My handmaid has been on the lookout for information against De Vespe ever since we had our tiff last year. And she's heard from <i>Sibella's</i> servants that Sibella employs a language tutor… in secret." <br><br> You stare at her for a long moment. <<include "thatsitrhienne">> <<else>> "And you were saying you'd do whatever it took to help me get rid of Sibella de Vespe." <br><br> Rhienne's face hardens, though not necessarily out of ire towards you. "Happily," she says firmly. "It will be a nice parting gesture before I leave this place. What do you need?" <br><br> After listening to your proposal, Rhienne agrees to have her name added to your petition, and to serve as a "witness" implicating De Vespe and her use of the forbidden dark tome, adding in several convincing details of hearing De Vespe speaking in strange foreign tongues to invisible listeners and partaking in grotesque occult rituals with her servants. <br><br> "Perhaps she uses the book to torture them in profane rites," she says, her voice dry. "An innocent country lady like me wouldn't really know—but she definitely has a whiff of the profane about her. Few will have trouble believing the implication." <br><br> With that complete, you wish Lady Rhienne well and take your leave. <<include "suncourtiermissiongo">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"...That's it?"</div>' 'rhiennethatisit'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"So?"</div>' 'rhiennethatisit'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"That's what I did all of this for? To find out she takes language lessons in her spare time?"</div>' 'rhiennethatisit'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Go on."</div>' 'rhiennethatisit'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Rhienne shakes her head. "Can't you see how suspicious that is? From what I'm told, Court Mages have access to spellbooks, instructors, and education far beyond that of regular Diminished Mages. If Sibella was interested in learning another language for some innocent reason, or perhaps to strengthen her abilities as a diplomat now that she's High Court Mystic, why would she take pains to hide that from anyone? I feel she would only go through the effort if she was hiding something." Hmmm. "Do you know what language she's been learning?" Rhienne makes an instinctive gesture that would probably be more expressive if she had a fan. "From our best guesses, Korkyth." The language of the frozen North, one of the few regions of the Continent to be unconquered by the Autarchy. Why would Sibella de Vespe be secretly learning the tongue of cities like Luxue, Karzai, and Korgoth? Rhienne catches sight of your expression and nods. "Exactly." After talking with her a bit more, you receive Rhienne's permission to add her name to your list and take your leave. When you turn around again, she's melted away into the crowd. Romar doesn't seem to have noticed her departure. <<include "suncourtiermissiongo">>

You approach the tall woman with amber skin and jet-black hair bound into a decorated ponytail that falls nearly to the small of her back. She has sculpted, imperious features that border almost on haughty, and she's dressed in scarlet red robes that seem to signify she's an ambassador of some sort. The woman gives you a curt nod, and after you make your introduction, she returns in a husky, richly-accented voice that her name is Yeniz Rai'shima, ambassador to the Sun Court from the Jalis Lugalate. <<nobr>><<if $metzilka is true>> <br><br> "Do you know Ambassador Zilka?" you ask her, recalling the disgruntled, refined man you met at Turti Ushala's gala so many moons ago. "If I recall, he's the Autarchy's ambassador <i>to</i> Jalis." <br><br> Yeniz snorts. "Zilka? You actually know that fool by name? I thought he'd been banished from this place because of his irrelevance. Yes, I know him. He's my diplomatic counterpart, though he's useless. All he does is sit around in the sun, basking like a lazy housecat. I find it more efficient to come all the way here and put forth my lord's case before actual authorities than to waste time bandying words with that lout." <br><br> "Your lord's case?" you ask, intrigued. <br><br> Yeniz nods. <</if>><</nobr>> "I serve Lugal Regus Tloani, King of Sotat, Lord of Jackals, Sword of the Desert and Keeper of the Crescent Moon." <<nobr>><<if $intelligence >= 65>> She means, of course, the current <i>lugal</i>—warlord-conqueror-king—of the Jalis Lugalate, though you're given to understand that this title is constantly changing hands due to the violent shifts occurring in the region. <<else>> At your blank look, she sighs and translates, "Our <i>lugal</i> is our king. He is the king of Jalis." <br><br> "I thought Jalis didn't have a unified state," you say. "Only a collection of unrelated tribes and settlements and cities." <br><br> Yeniz shakes her head. "No, the Lugal has unified them all under his banner." <br><br> Somehow you doubt that's totally true… or if it is, you doubt it was a totally peaceful transition to power, given how much you've heard of the violent civil wars rocking the Jalis region. <</if>><</nobr>> "And what are you hoping to gain by coming here to Haven?" you ask her. The diplomat gives you another once-over, seemingly intrigued by your question. Unlike many of the nobles in the courtyard, she's lean and rippling with powerful muscle, even with the enshrouding robes. "Few here speak so baldly," she says, with a hint of approval. "It's all honeyed words and poisoned blades with them. You Easterners <i>smile</i> too much. We in Jalis only smile when we mean it." She shakes her head and continues, "I come here at the behest of my commander-king to petition the new Autarch and his Consortium. Regus's Lugalate seeks to purchase more arms and weaponry from the Autarchy and its supply chains, preferably from the military outposts nearest to Jalis. But the old Autarch refused to trade with us, believing we would someday use the weapons to incite war or rebellion against the Autarchy itself, rather than merely bringing order and stability to our own region, as the Lugal aims to. I have come here to convince the Sun Court of the Lugal's intentions, and to make them see the mutual benefit in gaining a cooperative ally such as Regus Tloani… but so far my petitions have fallen on deaf ears." "So the Lugal wants to purchase arms from the Autarchy?" you echo. Yeniz nods curtly. "That's correct. While the Lugal has been successful in establishing his governance through the use of traditional weapons, the Autarchy's gunpowder and cannons would put a quick and decisive end to many of the conflicts in Jalis… something that would benefit the Lugalate and the Autarchy both." <<include "yeniztalk">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("yenizregus")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Tell me more about Lugal Regus Tloani."</div>' 'yenizregus'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("yenizherself")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Tell me more about yourself."</div>' 'yenizherself'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("yenizweaponsagainst")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Who would the Lugal be using these weapons against?"</div>' 'yenizweaponsagainst'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("yenizoffering")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"What are you offering the Autarchy in exchange for more weapons?"</div>' 'yenizoffering'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("yenizsuspect")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Why would the Autarch suspect you would use the weapons against the Autarchy?"</div>' 'yenizsuspect'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Perhaps we could help each other."</div>' 'yenizhelpeach'>><<setcunning +2>><<setintelligence +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Sorry, I can't help you with any of this."</div>' 'yenizcannothelp'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Yeniz dips her head in reverence. "He is a great man," she says. "A visionary who longs to bring peace and unity to Jalis, and an end to centuries of bloody conflict. Jalis has never before had an overarching monarch: each city is, at best, ruled by a prince, princess, or amir, sometimes supported by a council of advisors or viziers, sometimes not. These independent city-states are often at war with each other due to useless past grudges, disputes over resources and land, or a myriad of other petty reasons. The Lugal believes that corralling them all into a single, cooperative kingdom with one decisive ruler will put an end to these pointless conflicts and reduce needless bloodshed and loss of life." <<include "regustloani">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("yenizautarch")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"It sounds like he wants to be the Autarch of Jalis."</div>' 'yenizautarch'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("yenizperson")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"But what about the man as a person? Where does he come from, what's his background?"</div>' 'yenizperson'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("yenizsucceed")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"How did the Lugal succeed over all the other warlords vying for the same title?"</div>' 'yenizsucceed'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("yenizchildren")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Does he have any children or family members?"</div>' 'yenizchildren'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Ask her about something else.</div>' 'yenizelseback'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

It is, after all, a model of governance similar to how the Autarchy conquered most of the Continent: what was once a collection of city-states, each with their own independent alliances and systems of government, was subsumed into the singular dominating hegemony of the Autarchy. Yeniz shrugs. "I suppose that's one way of seeing it. There are many more nuances and complications at play… for example, the Lugal wishes for there to be an Argal, a twin-leader to rule alongside him, a spiritual counterpart that would rule hand-in-hand with him in equal power… but a worthy claimant to that title has not shown themselves yet." "And yet it's called a <i>lugalate</i>," you say. "Will that change if an Argal ever does show themselves?" Yeniz shrugs again. "I'm sure it will." <<include "regustloani">>

"The Lugal comes from a humble village in the Hinju foothills," Yeniz states. "Though 'village' is a generous term for it. Those foothills are peppered with a cave system that resembles nothing less than a termite nest dotted with holes. The Lugal's village—which had no name—was primarily established within those caves, though over time a small collection of merchant tents was established above ground to form a trading post for caravans that happened to pass through. The majority of the village's founding members were actually members of caravans who had gotten lost in the foothills or in the canyons nearby, whose wagons broke down and left them with no choice but to shelter in the caves, as it was too far from all other places to walk…" She trails off for a moment, as if losing herself in some reverie, before she shakes her head and continues, "But that was all when the Lugal was an infant. When he was eleven or twelve, a certain resource was discovered in those caves: a type of fungus that acts as an accelerant when prepared and consumed, similar to your blue norin, what's used to make your 'soldier pills.' If you can believe the stories, it was the Lugal who discovered the fungus himself, playing with his friends in the cave systems in the carefree, confident way that adults could never hope to achieve." "In time, the Lugal's village exploded with life and attention as the fungus began to be sold and traded for, and knowledge of its value spread throughout Jalis's merchant network. Soon enough, all manner of invaders—local warlords, bandits, and even foreign powers—arrived to take control of the town and convert it into a kind of worker's mining camp, intent on harvesting the fungus for all it was worth. Now a young man of twenty, the Lugal proceeded to train a small force of dozens in the art of guerilla warfare, using their special knowledge of the foothills and caves to repel those who sought to seize control of the town… Soon, he gained a reputation for his fearsome military tactics and cunning, renowned for his ability to defeat forces much greater than his own… And the rest, you can discern from there." <<include "regustloani">>

Yeniz shakes her head. "That would be too complicated to explain here," she tells you. "Many princes, generals, and amirs have crowned themselves Lugal in the last fifty years. Even today, there are at least twelve contenders for the Lugal's throne, each leading their own militia, each the head of a warring state that longs to establish itself as a larger kingdom by conquering the others. What sets the Lugal apart from the rest is his capacity for vision and long-term thinking. For example, none of his rivals—or any of the past Lugals—ever considered forming an alliance with the Autarchy before." <<include "regustloani">>

"The Lugal has one child," Yeniz says, though her tone and expression are now unreadable. "Prince Yassa, who will one day succeed him as Lugal." <<nobr>><<if $aylatime >= 2 or $ayla >= 75>> <br><br> Yassa… You feel as if Ayla has mentioned that name before. "Isn't Yassa called 'The Prince of Ruin'? I've heard that he's incredibly bloodthirsty and tyrannical." <br><br> Yeniz gives you a look of disapproval. "I've heard the same about the Autarch's brother, Ornos." <br><br> …Fair. <<elseif $intelligence >= 75>> <br><br> Yassa… You feel as if you've heard that name before. "Isn't Yassa called 'The Prince of Ruin'? I've heard that he's incredibly bloodthirsty and tyrannical." <br><br> Yeniz gives you a look of disapproval. "I've heard the same about the Autarch's brother, Ornos." <br><br> …Fair. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "regustloani">>

Yeniz looks at you expectantly. <<include "yeniztalk">>

"There's not much to tell," Yeniz answers loftily. "I grew up in the Lugal's village. I served under him as one of his lieutenants during the Six Year War. Now I am here as his ambassador." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Are you enjoying your time on this side of the Continent?"</div>' 'yenizenjoy'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Do you have anyone waiting for you back home?"</div>' 'yenizwaiting'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"So you used to be a soldier? What made you decide to become a diplomat?"</div>' 'yenizdiplomat'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Yeniz makes a clicking sound with her tongue. "It's… decadent," she says in a dismissive tone. "The excess here is certainly a sight to behold. But <i>enjoyment</i> isn't the word I would use for it. More like <i>interest</i>. But I'm not here for pleasure, anyway. Once I can negotiate terms with the Consortium and achieve my goals in coming here, I can return home… at least until I'm needed here again." <<include "yeniztalk">>

Yeniz makes a clicking sound with her tongue. "I have parents, but since the Lugal moved to the capital, I rarely have time to visit home. My main company are my brothers and sisters-in-arms, the soldiers who served with me under the Lugal during his campaigns, and who protect him now in my absence." <<include "yeniztalk">>

"I love talking to people," Yeniz answers flatly, with no apparent sense of irony. <<include "yeniztalk">>

"His enemies," Yeniz answers blandly. "Rival warlords, rebel groups, those who wish to incite insurrections against him." "But not civilians? Innocent villagers or anything like that?" "Of course not," Yeniz insists. "The Lugal protects the innocent; they're his constituents, after all, the people he assumed the throne for. It's the rebel groups he's after." <<include "yeniztalk">>

"Gold, of course," Yeniz begins bluntly. "And a more formal alliance with the Autarchy once the Lugalate is consolidated, which of course would provide outsiders more inroads into trade with Jalis than ever before. The Lugalate is also considering loaning out his Stormrider units to the Autarchy, should there be a need for that." "Stormrider units?" you repeat. Yeniz nods. "Squads of specialized soldiers and killers trained in arts known only to Jalis. I suppose it's something like your Shepherds, or perhaps those Ket warriors who are hired out by their city-states to 'fix' problems that need their special set of skills. The Autarchy may have their Army of the Sun, but sometimes there are specific jobs or problems only the Stormriders can handle." <<include "yeniztalk">>

Yeniz snorts. "I admit that any monarch would be a fool to not consider that possibility when thinking of giving arms to an unallied, unaffiliated nation. And the relationship between the Jalis Lugalate and the Autarchy has been… indifferent at best, contentious at worst. I don't necessarily blame the Consortium for their suspicions. But if they could only understand that the Lugal is different than the ones who came before him…" "Perhaps they're worried that he'll someday be replaced by someone less willing to be cooperative with them," you suggest. "And then they'll have armed a future enemy." Yeniz dips her head. "I suppose there's that, too. But he won't be replaced by anyone." Her expression tightens. "I'll make sure of that." <<include "yeniztalk">>

Yeniz raises both of her fine brows at you. "I wasn't aware I was asking for your help," she says in a droll voice. "Seeing as how you are the one asking me all these questions. But go on." She listens as you explain who you are and your purposes in coming to the Sun Court today. "Yes, I know De Vespe," she says in a tone that almost borders on begrudging respect. "The Autarch's pet Mage. She has been one of the strongest voices opposing our proposal to the Consortium… though there are many in that particular chorus." But then she gauges you with a new measure of interest and calculation. "But I have heard of you Shepherds, too," she continues. "When I venture out into the city, it seems your names are on everyone's lips. Perhaps if I were to insinuate that I had your backing… it would legitimize my cause in the eyes of the ministers of the Consortium. So far they are quick to dismiss me because I represent Jalis interests, which they believe affect them little. But if I were to add the Shepherds to my roster of allies…" "How could you even justify Shepherd involvement?" you ask. "We're an order of demon-fighters and investigators, not people who have any say in what goes on in Jalis." "You are a <i>military</i> order," Yeniz corrects with a smirk. "You are better equipped to evaluate the needs and necessity of an arms deal more than these stuffy politicians, are you not? And perhaps if your guild were to imply that providing the Lugalate with better weapons would help with demon problems in the area, in turn keeping the Endarkened numbers low… It could lend the deal another layer of upside for the Autarchy." "<i>Would</i> the arms help with Endarkened pest control?" you ask her. Yeniz gives you a surprised look. "How could it not? My Lugal's soldiers will be able to exterminate Revenants with guns and cannons far better than they can with sabers and scimitars. We could defend the western border, and keep demons from leaking through to the Autarchy's precious outposts and towns." She tips her head and adds: "And of course, in exchange for your support, I would gladly lend my name to <i>your</i> petition against <<nobr>><<if $darktomesibella is true>> Sibella de Vespe." <br><br> "You'd be willing to testify that you've seen evidence of her utilizing forbidden magic?" you press. <br><br> Yeniz shrugs carelessly. "Why not? I don't live here; it's not as if they'll throw <i>me</i> in jail if they suspect me of perjury. And she's a thorn in my side either way." <<else>> Sibella de Vespe. I don't have any evidence or interesting leads to give you, being an outsider to this court myself, but you'll have my backing when you go to the Autarch with your claims." <</if>><</nobr>> <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Fine. I'll arrange things so the Shepherds will back your proposal to the Consortium."</div>' 'yenizfine'>><<set $petition += 1>><<setcunning +3>><<setorder -10>><<set $resources += 1>><<setayla -5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm sorry. I won't be taking that deal."</div>' 'yenizsorry'>><<setcourage +1>><<setorder +5>><<setayla +5>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Yeniz gives you a sly, foxlike smile for the first time. "Very well. I am glad to find an ally in someone as shrewd and cunning as you. And perhaps if the deal passes, there will be room for further dealings between us in the future." After a few more moments of discussion, Yeniz gives you a short bow and melts away into the crowd, looking quite pleased with herself. <<include "suncourtiermissiongo">>

Yeniz's expression remains shuttered, but unsurprised. "I see. Well. At least you are honest about it. Others here would have lied to get what they wanted." She nods at you before turning and melting away into the crowd. <<include "suncourtiermissiongo">>

Yeniz raises both of her fine brows at you. "I wasn't aware I was asking for your help," she says in a droll voice. "You're the one who asked me all these questions, after all. But, fine. A good day to you." She nods at you before turning and melting away into the crowd. <<include "suncourtiermissiongo">>

You approach the cheerful, friendly-looking aristocrat with the enormous feathered hat tipped at a jaunty angle on their head. Petite and compact in form, the aristocrat smiles at you, dark eyes bright with interest: they're wearing a flashy velvet outfit with a green silk cape that complements their nut-brown skin and tawny, shoulder-length wavy locks. When you introduce yourself, they give their name as Kryshan Valavan, or "Krys" to friends. They explain that their family, the Valavans, are known both for their general gaiety and talkativeness: they are apparently known for hosting excellent parties. "It's the only thing that keeps us relevant," Krys adds artlessly. "Our lands and assets aren't huge and sought-after, like many of the people here. But we keep ourselves wanted by throwing the best events… and for being abreast on the latest gossip, of course. We're a <i>very</i> nosy bunch." There's something a bit… bizarre about meeting such a cheerful, gregarious Sun Court aristocrat, especially in comparison to the assessing, reserved gazes you've been confronted with all day. Surely Krys couldn't have survived this long by merely being a bubbly friend to all? "Ah," they say, reading something in your expression. "But I already know what you're going to ask me. If I'm so in the know, do I have anything useful on Sibella de Vespe to give you?" At your surprised glance, they make an graceful gesture with their peacock-blue fan: the noble equivalent of tapping the side of their nose. "Don't bother asking how I know; as I said, I make it my business to keep apprised of <i>everything</i>. And you're in luck: <<nobr>><<if $darktomesibella is true>> I'm willing to add my name to your petition. <i>If</i> you'll do me a favor." <<else>> I do have something juicy to give you. <i>If</i> you'll do me a favor." <</if>><</nobr>> "What's the favor?" you ask, unable to keep the wariness from your voice. Dealing with a Sun Courtier in such bald and straightforward terms feels… strange. Krys winks at you. "There are occasions," they begin off-handedly, "when keeping abreast of the goings-on at the Sun Court is paramount for me and my family. Being the <i>first</i> to know—or being known as <i>the</i> source to go to if one wants to know something—gives us an unmistakable edge. But there are simply times when even our wiles can't pry closed lips open or loosen stiff tongues." Their look turns sly as they look at you assessingly. "I'm sure you know from your friend Lavinet Naveen that nobles spy on each other all the time, especially in the Sun Court. Servants watch other servants and report back to their masters; sometimes bribes are made, or people are followed…" They give another flick of their fan. "But the <i>real</i> information is always in the notes, the letters that are passed between people in secret. Oh, some unfavorites' mail is monitored by the Sun Court or the Inquisitors, to ensure that their outgoing letters don't report anything <i>seditious</i> to their relatives or allies back home, but no one knows what people are writing to each other <i>here</i>. Secret notes and coded message sally back and forth between rooms and suites and offices here, ferried by servants or smuggled through other means, like so many ships passing each other in a busy port." They smile at you. "I'm versed enough to tell when people are engaging in such clandestine exchanges… but I don't know what they're <i>saying</i>. How many trysts or hidden dramas could I catch wind of if I could only peek at a few of those notes! Alas, none of my own servants or employees are skilled enough to intercept such missives, at least not without it getting traced back to me… which would be disastrous, of course. But <i>you</i>, dear $rank, employ a spy division within the Shepherds, don't you? If I could borrow such a skilled agent, perhaps for a fortnight or two…" There <i>is</i> a spy division within the Shepherds, and you don't think it would be hard to convince Chase to loan out one of his intelligence-gatherers—he'd probably be highly amused by the prospect—but is that really how you'd want to expend official resources? <<include "talkkrys">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited ("krysnewface")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"I can't just have a new face show up at the Sun Court. The Autarchy surely has his own spies. There would be questions."</div>' 'krysnewface'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited ("krysprying")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Aren't people owed their secrets? Lives could be ruined by your prying..."</div>' 'krysprying'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("krysdiscovered") and ($cunning >= 50 or $intelligence >= 50)>><<link '<div class="question-item">"What happens if the agent were to be discovered? How do I know you won't deny your involvement and blame the Shepherds?"</div>' 'krysdiscovered'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Fine. I'll see to it that you can borrow one of our spies for a fortnight."</div>' 'krysfine'>><<set $petition += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"No, I don't think this is a good idea."</div>' 'krysno'>><<set $petition -= 1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Krys gives a dismissive flick of their fan. "They could just masquerade as one of my servants and wear my colors: every noble has a cadre of them. No one would notice the difference… and so long as they're never caught or suspected, they won't be traced back to me. As I said, my current people simply don't have the required skill level in that particular area, but surely yours would." <<include "talkkrys">>

Your mind is filled with images of secret bastards, forbidden loves, innocent friendships between the children of disapproving parents… Krys snorts. "It's not all so twee, my dear. I don't expect you to understand all the currents of the Sun Court, but many of these secrets involve blackmail, conspiracy, kidnapping, the locations of hostages, corruption and cover-ups, bribery, addictions, abuse…" Then they shake their head. "But of course, I say all that only so that you do not overly-sympathize with the people we're talking about. I <i>am</i> more interested in the gossip side of things, that is true: I don't exactly want to be putting my foot into something that could put myself or my family in danger, either. If anything seems over my head, I won't act on the information. And I won't even air out everything I discover. Just knowing it all is what will give me power." <<include "talkkrys">>

Krys shrugs. "If the agent names <i>me</i> to their interrogators, it wouldn't take much for the authorities to believe them. They'll be wearing my colors, after all. I'll be taking a risk as much as you." <<include "talkkrys">>

<<romancecalc>>Krys looks thrilled. "Truly? Oh, how fortuitous—I'm so grateful to you! Let's seal our friendship with a kiss." They clasp your hands familiarly, their hands soft and manicured and smelling faintly of almond oil, before raising your right hand to their lips in a chaste kiss—earning several curious glances from the nearby <<nobr>><<if $rielromance is true or $highestromance is "riel" or $rielromanceflag >= 30>> partygoers, Riel included. He raises a single brow at you, but when he deduces you don't need any extraction from an uncomfortable situation, he turns back to his conversation, his expression smoothed back into one of polite neutrality. <<elseif $highestromance is "lavinet" or $lavinetromanceflag >= 15>> partygoers, Lavinet included. She tilts her head at you, the expression on her face ever-so-slightly irked, before she flicks her fan out and turns away, fanning herself coolly like an annoyed cat twitching its tail. <<elseif $highestromance is "briony" or $brionyromanceflag >= 20>> partygoers, Briony included. She cocks her head and smiles at you in an inquiring, quizzical way, but when you shrug at her with equal nonplus, she stifles a laugh and turns away, looking reassured. <<else>> partygoers. <</if>><</nobr>> <<nobr>><<if $darktomesibella is true>> "And in return, of course you can add me to your little petition. And my witness testimony that I've seen her doing… whatever it is you say she's doing. <i>My</i> word will go far with the Autarch and the High Augur; they <i>know</i> I know things. I am a Valavan, after all." <<else>> <<set $sibellaevidence += 1>> "And in return, of course you can add me to your little petition. Let me give you a juicy little tidbit about dear Sibella, as well." They drop their voice to a dramatic <i>sotto-voce</i>. "A man was seen visiting her rooms late at night a few weeks ago, dressed all in black. He had clearance to be in the Sun Court and was there at her invitation—otherwise the guards and other servants would have descended upon him at once—but no one, presumably not even the Autarch, knows what he was there for. Some believe he might be her lover, which I can't disprove, but I doubt Sibella would risk her standing with the Autarch for a dalliance with a man so… insignificant. He's not a Sun Courtier, of course, nor any sort of foreign dignitary. I dedicated my best 'spies' to uncovering his identity, and the closest we've come is to learning that he keeps rooms at an inn in the Market Quarter, the Silver Griffin. His name is either Horat or Rostat, something of the sort. And he's from <i>Karzai</i>." <br><br> Karzai is an independent city-state in the North known for its unbridled use of outlawed, scurrilous magic and the dark arts. It's technically one of the few enemy nations of the Autarchy, with attempted invasions and skirmishes having broken out between the two as the Autarchy attempted to bring the North under its control in the past… but relations between the two states have stabilized somewhat into a cool indifference in recent years. Now each state gives the other one a wide berth and generally seems to have agreed to pretend the other doesn't exist. You've heard that half-hearted diplomatic attempts between the two governments have been sporadic at best, but trade by independent merchants has not been outright banned. <br><br> "Why would a man from Karzai be visiting Sibella de Vespe late at night in her rooms?" you ask. <br><br> Krys arches their brows suggestively at you. "Exactly the question I'm wondering, my dear." <</if>><</nobr>> <<page_break "..." "krysfineend">>

After a few more minutes of discussion, another group calls for Krys to regale them with an amusing story, and they shoot you a meaningful glance before tripping away, a bright and vapid smile now plastered on their face. <<include "suncourtiermissiongo">>

Krys blows their cheeks out in a pouting moue of disappointment. "Truly? You don't see why gaining my alliance would be a boon to you?" They give you an interested, almost cunning sidelong look. "Well. You'll see, I suppose." They trip away before you can answer, cleanly inserting themselves into another laughing group and regaling them all with an amusing story. No one seems to have noticed them talking with you at all. <<include "suncourtiermissiongo">>

There's a nervous, baby-faced man with a weak chin and dishwater-colored eyes standing in the dappled shadows of a topiary, fidgeting with the sleeves of his vestments. He gives you a positively panicked look as you approach, his eyes falling to the sun medallion glinting on your chest. "<<c rank>> <<c firstname>> <<c surname>>," you say as you draw up to him. The man looks as if he would kill to be anywhere but here. "I am called Reoger of Acton," he says, his voice as soft and inoffensive as butter. He drops his eyes and bows to you slightly, tucking his hands into his sleeves. "Canon to the Western Hierophant." You cock your head. <<nobr>><<if $belief is "one-god">> Even as a follower, the structure of the Church has always been a bit opaque to you. You know the Autarch is the highest divine authority in the land, followed closely by the four Hierophants, who lead their own specific regional divisions of the Church and its followers. Then there are the high augurs and augurs, lesser than the Hierophants but still adept at receiving or interpreting signs from the One-God as well as dispensing advice and sermons to their congregation; then priests and priestesses, who are trained in the ways of the Church and are often the intermediaries between augurs and the laypeople, serving as both stewards of physical church buildings as well as engaging in the more mundane pastoral care of a community; and then priors and prioresses and the monks and nuns they oversee, all of whom live in their own convents and shared communities, devoting their lives to serving the One-God and Xer Church in various ways, such as raising and collecting money by crafting and farming goods to be sold. But you can't say you've ever heard of a canon. <<else>> The structure of the Church has always been a bit opaque to you. You know the Autarch is considered the highest divine authority in the land, followed closely by the four Hierophants, who lead their own specific regional divisions of the Church and its followers. But after that, it all becomes a bit muddled: it's hard to say what the difference between an augur and a high augur like is, let alone the distinction between augurs, priests and priestesses, priors and prioresses, monks and nuns. You can't say you've ever heard of a canon, either. <</if>><</nobr>> "I am an aide to the Western Hierophant," Reoger explains, his voice growing higher and squeakier: you can't tell if it's from anxiety or offense. "A kind of scribe, secretary, administrative assistant, as well as official proxy and representative. I visit places on his behalf when his divine duties call him elsewhere." "What brings you to the Sun Court now?" you ask him. <<nobr>><<if $hierophantfavor is true and $hierophanttruth is false>> Ever since you spared his life in Heth Macoll, the Western Hierophant hasn't had any direct contact with you, but you're aware he's been making good on his promises to the Shepherds. But you didn't know he had an official representative here in the Sun Court. <<elseif $hierophantfavor is true and $hierophanttruth is true>> Although you spared the Hierophant's life in Heth Macoll in order to gain his favor, you sort of shot yourself in the foot by immediately revealing to the public that he'd been possessed by a Faceless Lord, and that his edicts regarding the sacrifices to the One-God had actually been aimed at feeding his parasitic demon. Although word of this quickly spread, Zythos managed to keep his position by the very skin of his teeth, claiming that the disseminated news was baseless rumor spread by nameless enemies and rivals wanting to discredit him. Some die-hards believed him (you imagine it's an easier story to swallow than the alternative), but his reign has been extremely embattled ever since. It's no wonder he'd have to send a proxy like Reoger rather than show his face in Haven himself. <<elseif $hierophantalive is true>> Ever since you spared his life in Heth Macoll, the Hierophant himself hasn't had any direct contact with you—not that you expected anything like that. <<if $hierophanttruth is true>> You've heard his reign has been extremely embattled ever since you revealed the truth about his possession and the fact that his edicts regarding sacrifices to the One-God were actually aimed at feeding his parasitic demon. Although word of that news quickly spread, Zythos managed to keep his position by the very skin of his teeth, claiming that it was all baseless rumor spread by nameless enemies and rivals wanting to discredit him. Some die-hards believed him (you imagine it's an easier story to swallow than the alternative), but it's no wonder he'd have to send a proxy like Reoger here rather than show his face in Haven himself. <<else>> But you didn't know he had an official representative here in the Sun Court. <</if>> <<elseif $hierophantdead is true>> You guess that the past few months have been a tumultuous time for him: since the abrupt and unexpected demise of Zythos, there would have been a mad rush to fill the seat of the Western Hierophant and establish a new reign, all while contending with the shock and outrage of the laity, who have had questions about their old Hierophant being attacked and slain "in an Endarkened attack," as the official story goes. <<if $hierophanttruth is true>> And, of course, the Hierophany itself has been extremely embattled ever since you revealed the truth about Zythos's possession and the sinister nature of his edicts regarding blood sacrifices to the One-God. The Hierophant's successor has presumably had a devil of a time regaining all of that lost ground and trust. <<else>> As a result, the new Hierophant, Zythos's successor, hasn't had an easy transition to power. <</if>> <</if>><</nobr>> Reoger gives you a wary look. <<nobr>><<if $hierophanttruth is true or $hierophantdead is true>> "I'd rather not say," he says stiffly. <<if $hierophantdead is false>> Although he's a meek man, you get the feeling he knows exactly who you are and dislikes—if not outright hates—you for it. It's only his pious demeanor that prevents him from fully showing or acting on it. <<else>> Although he's a meek man, you get the feeling that he doesn't see any point in associating with you, a "lowly" Diminished outsider without any connections to the Sun Court. And he wouldn't have any reason to recognize you by your name alone: his superior, the Western Hierophant's new successor, wouldn't know who you are… Or perhaps the canon sees the Shepherd uniform and blames your order for "failing" to save his previous boss. <</if>> "Now, if you'd please excuse me, <<if $hierophantfavor is true>> I must…" <br><br> "Now hold on a moment," you say in a low voice, moving to stop him as he attempts to whisk past you. "Let's not be hasty here. I assume your Hierophant has mentioned my name to you?" <br><br> Reoger gives you a look of ill-concealed loathing. "He has." <br><br> "Then you know that he owes me a favor," you say. "I spared his life in Heth Macoll, so the least he could do is…" <br><br> Reoger's face flushes an ugly, mottled red, tinged purple around the neck. "Master Zythos has already done as you asked," he answers in equally-soft tones, his eyes darting all over the courtyard. He's not exactly a subtle man: here in the Sun Court, he looks like a rabbit cornered in a den of lions, desperately trying not to draw attention to itself. "His debt to you has already been paid in full. And you immediately tried to ruin his life and reputation anyway, so to expect more—!" He shakes his head. "After what you've done? No. The Hierophant owes you nothing. You will ask him for no more." <br><br> With that, he smooths the shape back into his vestments as if you'd forcibly grabbed them and walks away, head held high. <<include "suncourtiermissiongo">> <<else>> I must go." <br><br> He smooths the shape back into his vestments as if you'd grabbed them and hastens away, his sleeves flapping as if he's running from the very hounds of Hael themselves. <<include "suncourtiermissiongo">> <</if>> <<else>> "The Western Hierophant must be kept apprised of the news here in Haven and the Sun Court," he says. "I write back to him and report the goings-on, relay his messages to the members of the Central Church and the Sun Court, and otherwise carry out his directives." <br><br> "Are you familiar with Phelan Arameri, the high augur who serves as the Autarch's Right Hand?" you ask, keenly interested now. Here could be a personage whose word would weigh heavily with the High Augur—and in turn, Enik himself—indeed. <br><br> Reoger's face shifts in an expression that's hard for you to read: it could be nervousness, suspicion, or even disdain. "I am," he says carefully. "High Augur Arameri is an important leader in the Central Church. Some even say the Autarch may elevate him into becoming a fifth Hierophant someday." <br><br> "What does the Western Hierophant think of that?" You'd guess the Hierophants wouldn't be very happy about a potential rival and competitor for power, especially one so personally close to the Autarch himself. <br><br> Reoger clears his throat mildly and says, "The Western Hierophant is so busy ruling the frontier territories… I doubt he's had time to remark upon it." <br><br> So he's playing coy. <<include "westernhierophanttalk">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("rogerhealth") and ($hierophantalive is true or $hierophantfavor is true)>><<link '<div class="question-item">"How is the old man's health?"</div>' 'rogerhealth'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("rogercoming")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Will he be coming to Haven any time soon?"</div>' 'rogercoming'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("rogercanons")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Are the canons to the other Hierophants present here as well?"</div>' 'rogercanons'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("rogerjarkyth") and ($jarkythfate is "escaped")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Have there been any signs indicating that Jarkyth has come back?"</div>' 'rogerjarkyth'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Continue with your mission.</div>' 'rogermission'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

You can imagine that being exorcised of a Faceless Lord who'd been a passenger inside of his body for a prolonged period of time—not to mention the gruesome battle he fought as Jarkyth—would have taken its toll on Zythos. Reoger casts you a look of disapproval for your familiar tone but says reluctantly, "The Hierophant is as hale and alert as ever. It's predicted that he will serve in his role for several decades more." "And who succeeds him after he steps down?" you ask. "Has he chosen a successor?" Reoger of Acton gives you a look of mild exasperation. "The Autarch will choose a worthy successor from the Western Church leaders whenever that day comes." He makes the sign of the One-God, as if to ward off ill luck. You wonder if a canon—probably the Western Church figure who has the most face-to-face contact with the Autarch, and the most time to integrate himself within Eastern politics—is eligible to be named a Hierophant's successor. Very interesting. <<include "westernhierophanttalk">>

Reoger ducks his head. "He was just here for the Autarch's ascension," he says diffidently. "All of the Hierophants had to be present to bless his crowning ceremony." "He didn't want to stop by and look in on the Shepherds while he was in town?" you ask, half as a joke. Reoger gifts you a look of ill-concealed loathing. "The Hierophant was far too busy to do anything like <i>that</i>." The way he says it makes it sound as if he's describing going mud-wrestling or walking barefoot through gutter puddles. <<include "westernhierophanttalk">>

Reoger ducks his head. "Of course. Each Hierophant must have a connection back to the Autarch, the heart of the Church, after all." You glance around; he's the only one you see in vestments here today. "Where are the other ones?" The corner of the canon's mouth ticks downward in a grimace of dislike. "The canon from the South is indulging in more of her usual licentiousness, I imagine. The Eastern canon spends most of his days in vespers and prayer. The North hardly socializes with anybody, though what he gets up to during the day, I couldn't tell you." He gives you a sidelong look and adds, "We all have… differing ideas of how best to serve our Hierophants and the One-God, which is why there are such distinctions in the Church to begin with." So, for now, it seems he's your best bet for gaining the High Augur's ear. <<include "westernhierophanttalk">>

Although you're aware that the Shepherds are keeping an eye on the general area for the telltale signs of trouble indicating a Faceless Lord's corruptive influence, collaborating with different Merchants Guild and Thieves Guild branches as well as the few gladiator contacts who stayed behind in Heth Macoll, there's always been the awareness <<nobr>><<if $hierophantdead is false>> that Zythos himself was always a target to watch in particular: like serial killers who roam a particular hunting ground, some Endarkened prefer old, familiar vessels and may try creeping back in when everyone's guards are down. <<else>> that the new Hierophant could be a target to watch in particular: although it would be terribly obvious for Jarkyth to possess a Western Hierophant a second time, Endarkened operate on a level no one can really predict. <</if>><</nobr>> Reoger's head snaps towards you in clear and immediate reprimand; he can't believe you would speak of a Faceless Lord so openly. That's right—you've forgotten that civilians still believe even mentioning the word 'demon' in conversation is bad luck, practically considered anathema and seen as incredibly blasphemous. After a moment, the canon says blankly, "I can't say I know what you're talking about." He edges away from you as if you've shown sudden symptoms of a pox. <<include "westernhierophanttalk">>

<<nobr>><<if $hierophantfavor is true>> <<set $petition += 2>> "Well, whatever the case," you say briskly, "if you work for the Western Hierophant, you've most likely heard my name before. I saved his life in Heth Macoll, on Saint Cecily's Day." <br><br> Reoger struggles to remain impassive, but his gaunt, hairless cheeks blanch slightly. "Yes, Hierophant Zythos shared…" He clears his throat thickly. "Yes, I am aware." Then, surprisingly, he bows to you. "I must thank you for your actions that day, <<c rank>>. Whatever else I might think about your… arrangement with the Hierophant… I thank the One-God every day that you saved his life last year. His loss would have been a blow to us all." <br><br> You nod. "If you and the Hierophant are still that grateful, then perhaps you'd consider helping me with my current investigation…" <br><br> Reoger of Acton listens as you detail your mission against Sibella de Vespe, his expression milk-bland and impressively blank, as if he's listening to nothing more interesting than an idle story about an encounter you had with a neighbor. At the end of your explanation, he sighs and says, "Well, normally I would say that the Hierophant has done more than enough to repay his debts to you, and has provided everything you've asked of him; to ask for more seems avaricious. But in this case, I believe our interests are aligned: neither I nor Master Zythos have felt at ease with De Vespe's rise to power. The Autarch—may the One-God bless his steps always—is admirably zealous in his pursuit of his faith, but the creation of a 'High Court Mystic' in his holy court feels… profane and tarnishing. It has often been my thought that De Vespe's influence could prove sinister, perhaps even bewitching in some unnatural way. I would attest to my suspicions that she may be involved in some dark arts. You are welcome to add my name, as well as the Hierophant's, to the list of people who would raise concerns about this to the Autarch." <br><br> The canon has nothing to give you in terms of concrete leads or evidence against De Vespe, but just having his name—and the Western Hierophant's—on your list is sure to make High Augur Arameri and the Autarch sit up and pay attention. You come away from your encounter feeling enormously pleased. <<include "suncourtiermissiongo">> <<elseif $hierophantalive is true>> "Well, whatever the case," you say briskly, "if you work for the Western Hierophant, you've most likely heard my name before. I saved his life in Heth Macoll, on Saint Cecily's Day." <br><br> Reoger struggles to remain impassive, but his gaunt, hairless cheeks blanch slightly. "Yes, Hierophant Zythos shared…" He clears his throat thickly. "Yes, I am aware." Then, surprisingly, he bows to you. "I must thank you for your actions that day, <<c rank>>. Whatever else I might think about your… arrangement with the Hierophant… I thank the One-God every day that you saved his life last year. His loss would have been a blow to us all." <br><br> You nod. "If you and the Hierophant are still that grateful, then perhaps you'd consider helping me with my current investigation…" <br><br> Reoger of Acton listens as you detail your mission against Sibella de Vespe, his expression milk-bland and impressively blank, as if he's listening to nothing more interesting than an idle story about an encounter you had with a neighbor. At the end of your explanation, he sighs and says, "Well, I won't deny that Sibella de Vespe's rise to power has caused the Hierophant and I some measure of concern. The Autarch—may the One-God bless his steps always—is admirably zealous in his pursuit of his faith, but the creation of a 'High Court Mystic' in his holy court feels… profane and tarnishing. It has often been my thought that De Vespe's influence could prove sinister, perhaps even bewitching in some unnatural way. But to involve myself or the Hierophant in this matter…" He shakes his head. "I'm not sure that would be prudent." <<include "prudenthierophant">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You forget that I saved the Hierophant's life in Heth Macoll. He owes me much more than this, and it would only benefit him, anyway."</div>' 'rogerdebt'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I think you should reconsider. After all, it would be shame for news of what <i>really</i> happened in Heth Macoll to get out, wouldn't it?"</div>' 'rogerthreaten'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"The <i>imprudent</i> thing would be crossing me. Do you really want to make me your enemy, secretary? I don't think you have the balls to stand up to someone who slices open Revenants on a weekly basis."</div>' 'rogerintimidate'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"What's there to risk? With your help, we could remove the Autarch from Sibella's corrupting influence forever. You could play a role in saving the Autarchy!"</div>' 'rogersave'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Think of the saints and martyrs you so revere. Would <i>they</i> hesitate in doing their small part in vanquishing evil? It's your God-given duty to act in accordance to what's right, not just what's prudent!"</div>' 'rogerduty'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $charisma >= 65 and $cunning >= 50>> <<set $petition += 2>> After another moment, Reoger sighs. "You are right," he concedes reluctantly. "It is the least we can do to repay you for your actions in Heth Macoll. Fine. You are welcome to add both my and the Hierophant's name to your petition. But we will disavow any involvement if the scope of this petition goes any farther than what you've told me today." <br><br> You agree that that's fair. The canon has nothing to give you in terms of concrete leads or evidence against De Vespe, but just having his name—and the Western Hierophant's—on your list is sure to make High Augur Arameri and the Autarch sit up and pay attention. You come away from your encounter feeling enormously pleased. <<else>> <<set $petition += 1>> Reoger regards you for a long, weighty moment. Then he sighs. "I suppose," he says wearily, "you may add my name to your petition. As thanks for saving the Hierophant's life. But I will not be able to gain his approval to add <i>his</i> name to the list in time. And I cannot sanction such a thing on my lord's behalf without his permission. A letter to the West takes weeks, so you'll have to do with just me. " <br><br> You agree that that's fair. The canon has nothing to give you in terms of concrete leads or evidence against De Vespe, but just having his name on your list will almost certainly make High Augur Arameri and the Autarch sit up and pay attention. You come away from your encounter feeling satisfied with its results. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "suncourtiermissiongo">>

<<nobr>><<if ($cunning >= 75 and $compassionate < 45) or ($cunning >= 85 and $compassionate < 65)>> <<set $petition += 2>> <<setcompassionate -5>> <<setcunning +5>> Reoger stares at you for a long moment, seeming dumbfounded. Then he says quietly, "So. Your true nature shows itself. You would further harm an old man, one of the cloth, simply to get what you want?" <br><br> "That <i>old man</i> housed and fed a demon with blood rituals for a long time, and who knows how he even encountered it in the first place. I've held my tongue so far, but I would think you'd do more to ensure that trust and goodwill are maintained between the Hierophant and I," you return in soft, deadly tones. <br><br> Reoger makes another sign to the One-God, as if to ward off evil. But finally he says, reluctantly, "…Fine. But only because the removal of Sibella de Vespe would benefit the Hierophant in the long-term. Otherwise I would not bow to your threats." <br><br> <i>Sure you wouldn't. </i>You have them both over a barrel, and you know it. But you simply nod, and once you've extracted Reoger's promise to back your claim to the Autarch, he walks away, his back as stiff and tense as if expecting you to throw a knife between his shoulder blades. <<else>> Reoger stares at you for a long moment, seeming dumbfounded. Then he says quietly, "So. Your true nature shows itself. You would further harm an old man, one of the cloth, simply to get what you want?" <br><br> Before you can answer, he shakes his head. "No. If I yield to your demands now, you'll simply continue to harm the Hierophant in the future. If you say <i>anything</i> about what happened in Heth Macoll, <i>I</i> will tell everyone that you tried to drag me into your conspiracy and simply decided to spread libel when you didn't get what you wanted. You will not triumph over us, wicked one." <br><br> He walks away, his head held high and his back as stiff and tense as if he's expecting you to throw a knife at it as soon as he lets his guard down. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "suncourtiermissiongo">>

<<nobr>><<if $belief is "one-god">> <<setfaith -5>> <</if>> <<setcompassionate -5>> <<if $compassionate < 45>> <<set $petition += 1>> The color drains from Reoger's face. "Y-you dare threaten me?" he sputters. He looks flabbergasted, as if he's never come close to being remotely in danger once in his soft, cloistered life. "I… I am a man of the Church, a servant of the One-God! What kind of wicked—" <br><br> "<i>This</i> kind of wicked," you tell him in an iron voice, playing into the intimidation. "I'm a demon-killing Diminished soldier, canon. Don't think that I play by the same rules as everyone else." <br><br> For a moment, the man continues to stare at you, dumbfounded. Then something moves over his face, and when he takes a step back from you, you see that his eyes are filled with not just anger, but genuine hatred. But his body language tells you that he's already accepted defeat. <br><br> "Fine," he says through his teeth. "Add my name to your damned petition. But you'll extract nothing more from me, you—you demon!" <br><br> He turns hurriedly and half-jogs away from you, his sleeves flapping behind him as if he's fleeing the very hounds of Hael themselves. <<else>> <<set $petition -= 1>> The color drains from Reoger's face. "Y-you dare threaten me?" he cries. A few other people glance over at you, curious. "I… I am a man of the Church, a servant of the One-God! What kind of wicked—I should call the guards to drag you away this instant!" <br><br> Uh-oh. "That would be unwise, canon," you tell him in low tones. "If you do that, I'll be forced to tell everyone the truth about Zythos and what happened in Heth Macoll. We're at a deadlock, in that regard. And you wouldn't want to be responsible for your Hierophant's downfall, would you?" When he continues to stare at you, you add: "Besides, who knows what I'd be capable of doing to you before the guards even got here?" <br><br> A spasm moves over Reoger's face, and when he takes a step back from you, you see that his eyes are filled with not just anger, but genuine hatred. But his body language tells you that he's already accepted defeat, at least in that regard. "Demon," he spits at you. "Blasphemer, wicked one! I am under the protection of the One-God, and if you sully my vision with your presence again, Xe will strike you down where you stand!" <br><br> With that, he turns hurriedly and half-jogs away from you, his sleeves flapping behind him as if he's fleeing the very hounds of Hael themselves. No one else appears to notice, though Riel seems to gift you an extremely droll and unimpressed look from across the courtyard, as if to say, <i>Bravo.</i> <br><br> You shake your head. You can't see where the canon's gone, but you hope that earning his enmity doesn't backfire on you somehow. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "suncourtiermissiongo">>

<<nobr>><<if $compassionate >= 75 and $courage >= 70 and $charisma >= 70>> <<setcharisma +2>> <<set $petition += 2>> Reoger hesitates for a moment, his brow furrowing. "You think so? I… I suppose…" He shakes his head, seemingly still unsure. <br><br> "Trust me," you say, coaxing him along. "Sibella de Vespe is going down. You and the Hierophant would rather be on the side of history that defeated her rather than missing out on this opportunity to be seen as the heroes of the Sun Court." <br><br> Reoger appears to think on it for another long moment, studying you like a gambler gauging the worthiness of a waiting racehorse. Finally he gives a small nod and murmurs, "Very well. You have shown good judgment so far in protecting the Hierophant, sparing his life without asking for even a pittance as reward. You <i>must</i> serve the side of good; you are the one who saved him from an eternity in the Void, after all. We shall align ourselves with you in this matter." <br><br> The canon has nothing to give you in terms of concrete leads or evidence against De Vespe, but just having his name—and the Western Hierophant's—on your list is sure to make High Augur Arameri and the Autarch sit up and pay attention. You come away from your encounter feeling enormously pleased. <<else>> Reoger hesitates for a moment, his brow furrowing. "The risk," he says after a moment, "is what happens if you <i>fail</i> in your plot to remove her from power. My name, and the Hierophant's name, will be publicly available as part of the list of people who attempted to oust her. Should you fail, we would make an enemy out of someone when we could have simply kept ourselves out of any such machinations." <br><br> "But I won't fail," you say, somewhat desperately, but you can see that the canon has made up his mind. Shaking his head, Reoger of Acton says, "I'm sorry, but I can't in good conscience act on the Hierophant's behalf in this manner." <br><br> He backs away from you as if worried you'll descend into a frothing anger and bite him, then turns and hastens away, his sleeves flapping as if the very hounds of Hael were after him. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "suncourtiermissiongo">>

<<nobr>><<if ($faith >= 80 and $charisma >= 70) or ($charisma >= 75 and $courage >= 75)>> <<setcharisma +3>> <<set $petition += 2>> Reoger of Acton looks at you with discomfited surprise, almost bordering on awe. After a moment, he shakes his head slowly and murmurs, "Perhaps you are right. The One-God watches and protects those who act according to the good. And Sibella de Vespe does not do that. I… I have nothing to fear from her. In fact, I would be allowing evil to triumph if I were to do nothing." <br><br> "That's exactly right," you say triumphantly. "If you truly believe she's a danger to the Autarch and the court, then it's your duty to do something about it. The Hierophant would be proud of you acting thus." <br><br> Reoger gives you a small, hopeful smile. "I… I hope so," he says. Then he straightens and continues, "Very well. You have shown good judgment so far in protecting the Hierophant, sparing his life without asking for even a pittance as reward. You <i>must</i> serve the side of good; you are the one who saved him from an eternity in the Void, after all. We shall align ourselves with you in this matter. Please add both our names to your petition." <br><br> The canon has nothing to give you in terms of concrete leads or evidence against De Vespe, but just having his name—and the Western Hierophant's—on your list is sure to make High Augur Arameri and the Autarch sit up and pay attention. You come away from your encounter feeling enormously pleased. <<else>> Reoger hesitates for a moment, his brow furrowing. "The One-God acts in mysterious ways," he says eventually. "I cannot claim to know or understand Xer plans. Perhaps De Vespe is <i>meant</i> to be High Court Mystic, for some purpose or design we cannot yet see. No. I will not risk the Hierophant's reputation by committing to a cause I am not sure of. We are men of the church, not politics. Keep us out of it." <br><br> He walks away, his head held high and his back as stiff and tense as if he's expecting you to throw a knife at it as soon as he lets his guard down. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "suncourtiermissiongo">>

You approach the iron-haired older gentleman standing alone at the edge of the party, staring pensively into his goblet as a valet waits nervously on the edges of his periphery. The man, who looks to be in his fifties, glances up briefly as you make your introduction, but his gaze continues to be preoccupied and distant; his brow is heavy with some hidden, weighty concern. He has a lean, brown, weathered face and piercing steel-blue eyes; lean and trim, you would guess that he's a sportsman or athlete of some sort—perhaps a fencer. His valet informs you that his name is Lord Thurgood Holstoke, younger brother to the Baron of Hanalof. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You bow deeply. "Lord Holstoke. What a great pleasure it is to make your acquaintance."</div>' 'holstokebowdeeply'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You salute formally. "At your service, Lord Holstoke."</div>' 'holstokesalute'>><<setloyal +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You nod. "Nice to meet you."</div>' 'holstokenicetomeet'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You conceal a snort. A second son, untitled and without a position in the Consortium? You doubt such a person has the influence to help you.</div>' 'holstokesnort'>><<setloyal -1>><<setcharisma -1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Holstoke eyes you with the distant wariness of a man contemplating whether a spider on a wall is about to jump on him, or whether he should simply leave it well enough alone. <<include "holstokeintro">>

Holstoke stirs, as if emerging from a reverie, enough to nod at you with something resembling courtesy. <<include "holstokeintro">>

Lord Holstoke eyes you with an absent frown, as if he knows exactly what you're thinking but doesn't care enough about your opinion to be offended. <<include "holstokeintro">>

The lord is clearly not interested in much conversation, but he makes an effort to be polite as he looks at your uniform and says in an abstract, inattentive way: "Shepherds. I've heard of you, even from my estate in Inrenroh." He names a small fief positioned between Orlop and Kinley; you've passed by those lands once or twice during your travels. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised to find you here, though you did always sound like a bit of a myth." "Are you not a frequent visitor of the Sun Court, my lord?" you ask, catching the obvious gaffe: any Sun Court regular or politician would know very well that the Shepherds do not come here often. Holstoke snorts, elevating your opinion of him slightly. "Heavens, no—not if I can help it. I came here to consult with my brother about… a pressing matter… And as soon as he finds the time to see me, I'll take my leave and return to my own lands, where my wife and children await me." The obvious homesickness as well as bitter resentment in his voice is interesting. But what would drive a provincial country lord all the way to Haven to see his brother in person? <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $charisma >= 60 and $cunning >= 30>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Capitalize on his obvious annoyance with his older brother. "It's a shame that the baron is unable to make the time to see his own kin. He must be terribly busy."</div>' 'holstokecapitalize'>><<setcharisma +1>><<setcunning +1>><</link>><</if>> <<if $charisma < 60 or $cunning < 30>><div class="inactive-item">Capitalize on his obvious annoyance with his older brother. "It's a shame that the baron is unable to make the time to see his own kin. He must be terribly busy."</div><</if>> <<if $courage >= 60>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Ask him directly what his problem is. "Perhaps I could help."</div>' 'holstokedirectly'>><<setcourage +1>><<setloyal +1>><</link>><</if>> <<if $courage < 60>><div class="inactive-item">Ask him directly what his problem is. "Perhaps I could help."</div><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Advise him. "If I were you, I'd be storming into my brother's office right this minute, demanding that he prioritize me over his work. I certainly wouldn't be cooling my heels at some pointless luncheon, waiting for him to summon me at his leisure."</div>' 'holstokeadvise'>><<setcourage +1>><<setcharisma -1>><<setcompassionate -1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Holstoke grants you a skeptical look, but then he softens slightly and allows, "He does not view what I have to say as an emergency, and so he does not prioritize seeing me." "But you do think it's an emergency?" you prompt. Holstoke bows his head sharply. "I do. I hope to convince him of the urgency of this matter forthwith." At your expectant look, he sighs and elaborates: "In brief, our family has always been in possession of a prized heirloom: the Commercy Chalice. A beautiful cup of beaten silver, gold, inlaid pearl, and jewels of every color. We've been unable to trace exactly where it came from, but our ancestor, the founding sire of our family line, had it in his possession when he established our holdings seven hundred years ago. It has resided in my estate, Inrenroh, since the time of my great-grandfather." <<include "commercychalice">>

Holstoke grants you a skeptical look, but after a moment, he shrugs minutely and says, "In brief, our family has always been in possession of a prized heirloom: the Commercy Chalice. A beautiful cup made of beaten silver, gold, inlaid pearl, and jewels of every color. We've been unable to trace exactly where it came from, but our ancestor, the founding sire of our family line, had it in his possession when he established our holdings seven hundred years ago. It has resided in my estate, Inrenroh, since the time of my great-grandfather." <<include "commercychalice">>

Holstoke cuts you a flat look, totally unimpressed by your declaration. "<i>You</i> are clearly unfamiliar with noble families," he drawls. "The oldest is always the busiest, the one with the most responsibility. The least the younger heirs can do is to be patient with them and lighten their burdens—not add to them." You make a few more stabs at desultory conversation before accepting that Holstoke has lost interest in you. At the valet's increasingly anxious look, you bow, take your leave of the lord, and walk away. <<include "suncourtiermissiongo">>

"Go on." Holstoke frowns at you, as if emerging from a state of sleepy, preoccupied indifference into one of growing alertness; your interest obviously energizes him. "You may think this heirloom a mere pretty bauble, but we Holstokes have always believed a particular legend about the chalice: that whoever drank from it during a time of great need would have great luck bestowed upon them. Our ancestor, Lord Dunston Holstoke, is said to have drunk from it almost exclusively, and his life was riddled with serendipity and fortunate happenstance. Injuries that should have slain him missed his organs by a vital inch; races that were considered unwinnable always turned in his favor, or poor business investments that experts laughed at and mocked always paid off in unexpected ways. Dunston, jokingly or not, always attributed his success to the chalice, and so it has passed down through our family as both our clan emblem and our talisman of luck." He nods to his valet, who turns to show you the Holstoke crest stitched onto the back of his livery: it indeed prominently features a chalice. "Even Dunston's descendants have seemed to benefit from the chalice's effects: my grandmother, who was thought to be barren, drank once from the cup out of desperation, and was blessed with triplets at the age of forty-two. You see how it goes." He shakes his head. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"It sounds like a bunch of silly superstition to me."</div>' 'holstokesuperstition'>><<setcharisma -1>><<setcourage +1>><<setcompassionate -1>><<setfaith -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Where did this chalice come from? How did Lord Dunston acquire it?"</div>' 'holstokeorigin'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Could the chalice have been... magical in nature?"</div>' 'holstokemagical'>><<setintelligence +1>><<setmagic +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Holstoke shakes his head again, rueful rather than offended. "You would not be the first; indeed, I know that many within the peerage feel the same way, dismissing our family as a clan of superstitious ninnies. My brother has taken some pains to distance himself from that reputation and disavows any belief in the chalice's properties." "Do <i>you</i> believe in the chalice's properties?" Holstoke winces, dropping his eyes. "I… I do not know. I only know its vital importance to my family and its history." "I see." <<include "holstokecontinue">>

Holstoke shakes his head again, becoming more animated the more interest you show in the subject. "I do not know. Our earliest records only show that Dunston already had it in his possession as a young man of twenty-five. By twenty-eight, he had established the family fortune and the lands that would become Hanalof. But where the chalice itself came from—or who made it—he never said. The only thing we know about the artifact is its vital importance to my family and its history." "I see." <<include "holstokecontinue">>

It certainly sounds like it. And seven hundred years ago, magic hadn't been outlawed and was still rampant and abundant in the world. Could this chalice have been a Mage-made artifact, wreathed in special energies or spells that truly would have bestowed luck to its users? After your experiences in Senua's labyrinth, nothing about that kind of old magic would surprise you. Holstoke frowns. "I… I do not know. I don't know anything about the chalice, other than its vital importance to my family and its history." "I see." <<include "holstokecontinue">>

"To that end," he continues, "I recently decided to have the chalice… appraised. I have long since been its keeper and guardian: it is housed in my estate—though the seat of our family's power belongs to my brother—and I have been tasked with its safekeeping. But I have found myself wanting to learn more about it, and about our family history in general. I contacted a scholar from the university in Strindmor and asked him to visit my home to tell me what he could about the chalice." He shakes his head. "What a commotion that man made. He became very overwrought and excited after examining the chalice, insisting that he and his team of colleagues—all prominent historians and archaeologists—would be able to determine the chalice's exact origins and nature… but only if I would consent to transporting it to Strindmor for further examination. It was impossible, he said, for an entire department's staff to descend upon my home in Inrenroh and examine the chalice over the course of weeks or even months while living there. I saw the sense in that." He grimaces. "And so… reluctantly, and with great hesitance… I paid to have the chalice transported back with him to Strindmor. With an armed guard, of course." "Ah," you say, with a heavy sinking feeling. "That is where the problem lies, I take it." Holstoke's fist clenches at his side; he makes a fruitless, restless gesture, as if he wishes he could hurl or kick something but is far too civilized to actually do so. "The chalice and its convoy never made it to Strindmor. When I realized something was amiss, I deployed my people immediately, thinking perhaps the scholar was some sort of charlatan, made off with a priceless aristocratic heirloom… but not so. They found his body, along with the corpses of my men, along the roadside not three days from Imrenroh. Bandits. They stole the lockbox containing the chalice and stripped the corpses of their valuables, as well." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm so sorry."</div>' 'holstokesorry'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"That must have been devastating for you to hear."</div>' 'holstokedevastating'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Yeesh. You're never seeing that chalice again, I'm afraid."</div>' 'holstokeneverseeing'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Holstoke nods slowly, looking as numb and haunted as if he were recounting the death of a friend. "Thank you," he says dully. "I still can hardly believe it. Not only did good people lose their lives, but the Chalice of Commercy has vanished. A priceless artifact that has been in my family for nearly an age… is gone." <<include "holstokehaven">>

Holstoke rubs the midpoint between his brows, looking tired, haggard, and aged. "Of course it was," he says heavily. "Not only did good people lose their lives, but the Chalice of Commercy has vanished. A priceless artifact that has been in my family for nearly an age… is gone." <<include "holstokehaven">>

Holstoke looks at you sharply; his valet, standing behind him, throws you a warning glare like a guard dog baring his teeth. "So you say," the lord says stiffly. "But there is some blessing about that chalice that few outside our family can understand. I only pray that its powers can overcome my foolhardy recklessness enough to return it safely home." <<include "holstokehaven">>

"So what brings you to Haven?" you ask him then. Holstoke sighs. "As soon as I discovered the chalice had been stolen, I wrote to my brother," he says. "As well as the local army garrison, who declined to commit their forces to its retrieval. My own small guard is not a large enough force to scour the bandit camps in the area, searching for the chalice. But my brother, with both his barony's militia and his overall influence, could either hire enough sellswords or deploy official soldiers to hunt the artifact down. He has enough allies to call upon, if his own forces aren't enough. But when I wrote to him, he refused. Said he wanted to hear nothing more of 'the family embarrassment,' that we would look even sillier by sending armed forces to find our 'mystical' heirloom, and that we should take the opportunity to finally distance ourselves from the 'glimmer-tale' that our family has always been defined by and make a new name for ourselves. He almost sees the loss of the chalice as a blessing." He looks away, his mouth drawing into a hard, flat line. "In a certain sense, I can see what he means. Imagine if you heard that someone—a friend of your Lady Naveen, perhaps—had hired fifty soldiers to find a stolen necklace, one that supposedly granted the power to grant wishes or win luck in love. It would all sound preposterous, wouldn't it? The frivolity of a rich idiot who had lost all connection with reality. And yet I had to come here to Haven to try and change his mind." He casts his eyes down, his voice fading to a thin, defeated wisp. "I cannot accept that the chalice is lost," he says softly. "I cannot." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $resources >= 6>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Perhaps the Shepherds could help you in this matter."</div>' 'holstokeshepherdshelp'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $resources < 6>><div class="inactive-item">"Perhaps the Shepherds could help you in this matter."</div><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Perhaps you should. Perhaps your brother is right, and this chalice is more of a curse than a boon. It's just a cup, after all."</div>' 'holstokecurse'>><<setcompassionate -1>><<setintelligence +1>><<setfaith -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Well, I'm sorry for your troubles, but I don't think I can help you. Good luck."</div>' 'holstokecannothelp'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Holstoke's head abruptly jerks up as he stares at you. "What did you just say?" he asks, his eyes lighting up with a renewed intensity. You rub your fingers against your chin, thinking it over. "Well," you say slowly, "from what you told me, there is some evidence that would lead one to suspect that your chalice might have magical or supernatural properties. As such, there'd be a strong case for the Shepherds to get involved, if only to prevent a potentially-powerful magical artifact from falling into the hands of highwaymen and bandits. We can't have something like that loose and unguarded out in the world; even the Autarchy would agree with that. So I think I could make a case for sending a force of Shepherds in to find and retrieve it." It would be a tricky task to retrieve the thing, you think, but not anywhere close to the hardest mission a Lunar Corps team would have taken on. Admittedly, it would require a lot of resources—the chalice could be anywhere by now—but given enough time and the right experts, you don't see any reason why it would be <i>impossible</i> to find. Holstoke abruptly steps up to you, clasping your forearm with a hard, iron grip. "Truly?" he presses fervently, his eyes glittering with the hope of a starving man being offered the prospect of food. "You would truly do such a thing?" Behind him, his valet coughs gently. Just as suddenly, Holstoke releases your forearm and takes a step back from you, letting loose a shuddering breath. "But what would you ask for in return?" he asks then, almost to himself. His blue eyes are now guarded and stern, though they still glitter with that feverish intensity. "Surely not gold. So what is it you want?" <<nobr>><<if $darktomesibella is true>> <<set $petition += 1>> <<setcunning +1>> Quietly, you tell him about your investigation against Sibella de Vespe, and how helpful his name on the petition would be. But Holstoke shakes his head and says, "But my name would mean nothing to the Autarch or the High Augur: I'm not a player of the Sun Court, only a mere relation to one who is. And besides, I only arrived here five days ago. No one would believe I've interacted with Lady De Vespe enough to see evidence of… what you say she is doing. The profane arts or what have you." <br><br> "What about your brother, the Baron of Hanalof?" you ask him. "He's a member of the Consortium as well, isn't he? A prominent minister? Could <i>he</i> be persuaded to back us?" <br><br> A muscle in Holstoke's cheek twitches as he stares at you, seemingly running his options over in his head. Finally he blows out a breath and says, "…Yes. Yes, of course. I will do everything in my power to ensure that he does. He can have no objection, not if the chalice's retrieval isn't tied directly to us, and does not require him to spend his coin or his influence in order to secure the manpower necessary to find it. He will agree to sign your petition; I will see to it myself. <i>If</i> you will truly help us find the Commercy Chalice." <br><br> You nod. "We'll do our very best. But I need his signature today." <br><br> You shake on it—Holstoke bows stiffly over your hand before turning on his heel and walking smartly away, presumably to hunt down his brother in all haste—and his valet trots after him like a dog, a little more hope to both their gaits as they quickly exit the courtyard. <<else>> <<setcunning +1>> <<set $petition += 1>> Quietly, you tell him about your investigation against Sibella de Vespe, and how helpful his name on the petition would be when you go to the high augur with your claims. But Holstoke shakes his head and says, "But my name would mean nothing to the Autarch or the High Augur: I'm not a player of the Sun Court, only a mere relation to one who is. And besides, I only arrived here five days ago. I don't know anything about Lady De Vespe, and no one would believe I've interacted with her to see evidence of… whatever it is you're hoping to uncover." <br><br> "What about your brother, the Baron of Hanalof?" you ask him. "He's a member of the Consortium as well, isn't he? A prominent minister? Would <i>he</i> know anything? Or could he be persuaded to back us?" <br><br> A muscle in Holstoke's cheek twitches as he stares at you, seemingly running his options over in his head. Finally he blows out a breath and says slowly, "I will ask him, but I doubt he will have anything useful to divulge: he's more fond of gaming dens and casinos than he is in paying attention to the schemings of the High Court Mystic, whom he has expressed disdain for. But I will do everything in my power to ensure that he adds his name to your petition. He should be glad to do it: he won't object if the chalice's retrieval isn't tied directly to us, and does not require him to spend his coin or his influence in order to secure the manpower necessary to find it." He nods, more decisively now. "Yes, he will agree to sign your petition; I will see to it myself. <i>If</i> you will truly help us find the Commercy Chalice." <br><br> You nod. "We'll do our very best. But I need his signature today." <br><br> You shake on it—Holstoke bows stiffly over your hand before turning on his heel and walking smartly away, presumably to hunt down his brother in all haste—and his valet trots after him like a dog, a little more hope to both their gaits as they quickly exit the courtyard. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "suncourtiermissiongo">>

Holstoke sighs and steps away from you, as if disappointed he wasted his breath on such a pointless conversation. "So you are just like the rest," he murmurs to himself, glancing away. "Well. I'll find some way to drum up support for my cause. With or without my brother's help." His valet shoots you a filthy look as he hurries after his master; Holstoke heads towards the punch table, apparently keen on finding a stronger drink. <<include "suncourtiermissiongo">>

Holstoke sighs and turns away from you, as if disappointed he wasted his breath on such a pointless conversation. His valet shoots you a filthy look as he hurries after his master; Holstoke heads towards the punch table, apparently keen on finding a stronger drink. <<include "suncourtiermissiongo">>

You approach the huddle of intense-looking young nobles—two men and one woman, all seemingly siblings—standing together, each one of them bearing the sharp, exacting posture and the broad shoulders of military-trained soldiers or perhaps knights. The two younger siblings sport pale skin, almost frost-colored blond hair, and ghostly green eyes; the tallest resembles them heavily in both face and build, but sports long raven hair pinned back from his face and hawk-like brown eyes, along with duskier skin. All three have a stance that suggests they're used to having a saber or rapier buckled to their left side. The siblings suddenly break out into a fierce—albeit hushed—argument as you approach, too wrapped up in their conversation to take any heed of you. "Damn it all, Ginny, I don't know how you can stay so <i>calm</i>—" This bursts out of the youngest and most impetuous-looking sibling, whom you guess to be the youngest brother. "This is our <i>sister</i> we're talking about, not some training exercise. Every day we delay, Ema could—" "They won't do anything to harm her, for God's sake," his sister returns in low, deadly tones. Whether by birth or through styling, the lower eyelashes that ring her eyes look pointed, almost spiky, and her long, flowing hair is tied in an incongruous lavender ribbon at the very tail. "She's still a Reaver. This is the Sun Court, not a foreign battlefield. We're not at war. There are rules—" "You show your naiveté, sister," the tallest brother, who seems more reserved, points out softly. He has a quiet, calculating demeanor that the other two lack. "We are at war, whether you want to accept it or not. Their taking Emarynne just proves it." Then, seemingly for no reason, all of their attentions snap to you. The youngest one glares at you silently, clearly annoyed by the interruption, and there's a vague aura of hostility as they seem to wait to see what you want. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Back away slowly. "Erm... sorry. You seem busy, so I'll just..."</div>' 'militaryback'>><<setcharisma -1>><<setcourage -3>><</link>> <<if $courage >= 65>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Draw closer. "I didn't intend to eavesdrop, but I couldn't help but overhear. Has something happened to your sister?"</div>' 'militarydraw'>><<setcourage +1>><</link>><</if>> <<if $courage < 65>><div class="inactive-item">Draw closer. "I didn't intend to eavesdrop, but I couldn't help but overhear. Has something happened to your sister?"</div><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

The siblings continue to glower at you in frosty silence as you beat a hasty retreat, turning back to the party in search of friendlier faces. <<include "suncourtiermissiongo">>

The youngest brother opens his mouth to say something rude—judging by his outraged expression—but the oldest one's attention has sharpened on you to an almost palpable degree. He casts a quick glance down at your uniform, seems to compose himself, and gives a short bow. "Perhaps this is not the place to talk openly," he says, his tone now courteous and pleasing, as if to allay the suspicions of any potential eavesdroppers. "I know of some private gardens nearby. Perhaps it would please you to join us on a short walk around the grounds." You nod, catching the looks of incredulity and apprehension on his two siblings' faces, before you turn and join the group in making an inconspicuous and quiet exit from the courtyard. <<page_break "..." "reaverfamily">>

The siblings introduce themselves to you as they guide you to another of the Sun Court's many walled gardens, this one guarded by tall, flowering trees strung with beautiful wind chimes and crafted paper lanterns. The oldest brother, the one with dark hair, is named Savarin, though he's referred to as "Sav" by his siblings. The middle sister is Imogín—though her younger brother calls her Ginny—and the youngest brother is Tacarey, or "Tac." All three belong to the Reaver family, an aristocratic march famed for its military lineage. Even you've heard of the Reavers: although some Sun Court nobles may regard them as a bit boorish, their family has produced several famous war heroes over the centuries, and many heirs become generals and other high-ranking officials within the Army of the Sun. Each heir, you surmise, undergoes mandatory military training and martial service once they come of age, with the heir apparent set to become margrave or margravine once they inherit the march: leader of a collection of fiefdoms considered to be border territories and important lines of defense against foreign powers. The Reaver family, you remember, is one of the ones who hold the line against the North. Lavinet refers to their entire clan as "battle-mad." "What's all this about your sister?" you ask them, once the introductions have been made and you're safely ensconced within the privacy of this new courtyard, crowded though it is with topiaries and a glass-like duck pond. Imogín purses her lips, and Tacarey continues to look deeply skeptical, so it's Savarin who sighs and says: "Emarynne, our third youngest sibling. She was en route to return to Haven from her training at Fort Lagann when, <i>supposedly</i>, her lady-in-waiting fell from her horse and broke her leg. Emarynne's party detoured from the road and found themselves closest to the estate of the Teivel family. They took her in and are currently sheltering her party while her lady-in-waiting recovers." You raise a brow. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"So what's the problem?"</div>' 'reaverexplain'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Why couldn't she just leave her lady-in-waiting there and come to Haven herself?"</div>' 'reaverleavewaiting'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Who are the Teivels?"</div>' 'reaverexplain'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"How long will that take?"</div>' 'reaverhowlong'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"That's what I said," Tacarey growls. <<include "reaverexplain">>

"Supposedly, weeks," Tacarey growls. "Maybe even months. And they won't even let us see her in the meantime." <<include "reaverexplain">>

Savarin sighs and shakes his head. "The Teivels are our rivals," he tells you, in the instructing tones of a tutor explaining the earth is round to a child. "Our families have had… tension… between us since time immemorial. One of our ancestors killed theirs in a duel, and their great-grandfather left ours for dead during the War of the Five Saints, up in the North. We've always shared a particular enmity, which is why we're finding it difficult to believe that the Teivels are actually harboring our sister out of the goodness of their hearts. Her letters—which admittedly are penned in her hand—claim that all is well and that she's fine, that she's not being kept against her will, but…" "Things simply don't add up," Imogín snaps. "She could just leave her lady-in-waiting there to catch up once she recovers. And why hasn't anyone else in her party written to us to confirm Ema's story, and to tell us that everything's fine? We've heard nothing but silence from them. Worst of all, the Teivels won't allow us to come visit or retrieve her ourselves, meaning no one from the outside world actually knows what state she's in…" She trails off, and an ominous silence falls over the group as each sibling seems to ponder what that means. "So it's a hostage situation," you say finally. You know that taking political hostages as leverage is a fairly common practice in the Sun Court, which is why many of the best players keep their families and relations far away from the court and difficult to access. You also know that the practice is not exactly smiled upon by the Autarchy, but neither will they do much to intervene so long as the pretense of civility is kept up. Rather than snatching an innocent victim off the road by force and sending outright threats to secure their return, a powerful family like the Teivels might orchestrate some innocent excuse to keep a hostage 'safe' with them instead, inventing all sorts of reasons for why the person in question can't simply return home, but will remain with their hosts 'out of their own free will.' If Emarynne, the captured sister, has indeed sent letters in her own writing assuring her family that she's fine and happy staying with the Teivels, there wouldn't be any reason for the Autarch to think otherwise. But clearly her siblings have their own suspicions. "Ema <i>hates</i> the Teivels," Tacarey insists, a worried tone in his voice. "She'd rather catch the pox than spend a night under their roof. But her letters are full of praise for their unexpected graciousness, and she even alludes to that worm Colen Teivel <i>flirting</i> with her—" "It's just not Emarynne," Imogín tells you. "We <i>know</i> her. She needs our help, whether she says it outright or not." <<include "emarynneinfo">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("reavertruth")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Are you sure you aren't letting your prejudices overrun your good sense? What if Emarynne is telling the truth?"</div>' 'reavertruth'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("reaverransom")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Have the Teivels made any ransom demands in exchange for her return?"</div>' 'reaverransom'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("reaversignal")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"If your sister was truly writing these letters to you under duress, surely she would have found some way to let you know by now?"</div>' 'reaversignal'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("reaverworst")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"What happens in the worst-case scenario? Could they actually harm her?"</div>' 'reaverworst'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Get to the heart of the matter. "So what do you plan to do?"</div>' 'reaverplan'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Imogín curls her lip and tosses you a look of utter contempt. "You don't know our sister," she insists. "She would <i>never</i> praise a Teivel, especially not to <i>us</i>." <<include "emarynneinfo">>

The siblings shake their heads. "No, but it may not have been long enough to reach that point yet," Savarin says, a note of sardonicism to his tone. "Though I am wary of these intermittent mentions of Colen Teivel in Ema's letters. I fear that a marriage proposal will be conveyed at some point, and that will have been the point of kidnapping her. But why the Teivels would want their family to be united with ours, I have no idea. They've made it clear they think we're of inferior stock." "Unless they think it's finally time to put the bad blood between you to rest," you suggest, but the Reaver siblings merely shake their heads. <<include "emarynneinfo">>

Siblings could easily come up with some sort of passcode or veiled reference that wouldn't sit right with their family members, but which might pass under the attention of whoever was scanning their letters before sending them. And even if it wasn't that easy, you'd think Emarynne would have figured out <i>something</i> in the face of a life-or-death scenario by now. Tacarey scowls. "Her glowing praise of the Teivels <i>is</i> the signal," he says. "She knows we know she'd never write that drivel unless she was forced to." <<include "emarynneinfo">>

Tacarey pales, looking frantic, but his more battle-hardened siblings remain coldly composed as Imogín returns, "Of course they could. Any day now, we could receive a letter from Colen Teivel bemoaning the fact that our sister met an unfortunate accident when out riding with him in the woods—her horse threw her and broke her neck—or she fell off a rowboat and drowned, something like that. It happens every so often. And there's not much anyone can say or do to disprove it." <<include "emarynneinfo">>

Imogín and Tacarey look uncomfortable, but Savarin shakes out his shoulders and raises his chin. "That's why I asked you to accompany us on this walk," he tells you. "You are a neutral third party, not entrenched in the myriad politics of this court, and presumably harboring none of the ambitions nor alliances I would have to worry about in telling you this information. Would you say that's correct?" You nod. "I have no reason to make an enemy of you, if that's what you mean, or to tell this information to anyone else." Savarin nods curtly. "Just so. And more than that, I've heard of the Shepherds and the kind of work you do; it would pain them to admit it, but some of our instructors have even had us analyze some of your more… improbable missions, and the kind of work it takes to pull them off. We've tried studying your maneuvers, or what little we could glean of them." To his siblings' mortified looks, he snaps, "This is no time for coyness or pride. If we wish to rescue Emarynne, we need all the help we can get." Imogín sighs and covers her face with white-gloved hands. Tacarey, looking mutinous, mutters something under his breath and turns away, but Savarin continues: "So. We could use your expertise in this matter. We wish to stage a rescue of our sister, even raiding the Teivel estate if we have to. However, if we mobilize with too great a military force, we <i>will</i> spark a civil war within the Sun Court… and that would prove disastrous, as I'm sure you can imagine. The Teivels have both allies and their own spies everywhere. They'll know if we attempt to commit an act of war: it's what they'd expect from us. In fact, that might have been their aim in kidnapping Emarynne in the first place." "It'd be a trap," Imogín mumbles to herself, shaking her head. "Provoke us into retaliating so they have the excuse to go to war, maybe even end our entire bloodline once and for all." Then she looks up at you and says, "The best-case scenario would be to organize a tactical strike team, a small stealth force; someone who could slip into the Teivels' estate in the dead of night, slip out, and make away with Emarynne and her allies safely and with no casualties on either side. If the Teivels were to wake up in the morning and simply find our sister gone, with no way to prove who spirited her away, that would be ideal." Then she shakes her head. "Unfortunately, they're watching us too closely for us to be sure we could even organize such a feat without their being prepared for us—leading to a massacre and probably even the civil war we've been trying to avoid. I'm also not confident we're versed enough in this kind of maneuver to risk it ourselves. This is our sister we're talking about; I don't want her blood on our hands if something goes wrong." Tacarey makes a kind of hissing noise, as if she'd punched him. "We could hire…" "No, Tacarey," Savarin says then, sharply. His tone is one of someone who's had to repeat the same argument several times before. "Gold is traceable; whoever we hire to do it, the Teivels will either know about it beforehand, or they'll be able to track things down to us after. It has to be done another way." You think on it. This is a tricky matter: from what you're hearing, there's absolutely no evidence of supernatural or Endarkened forces at play here, so getting the Shepherds officially involved is not an option. And if anyone were to catch you lending out Shepherd forces for unrelated matters—essentially taking sides in court politics—it would mean a world of trouble for the Order. So <i>if</i> you were to intervene in this manner, it would not be with the full resources or open, public-facing movements of the Shepherds at your disposal. It would have to be kept a dire secret, and at great risk to yourself and the Order… It would be another weight for Sibella de Vespe to hang around your neck if you were discovered, too. On the other hand, earning the Reaver siblings' favor—with their connections and their potential futures of becoming lauded officials in the army—would be a massive boost to taking down De Vespe, as well as to the Order's standing within the Autarchy. Three signatures for your petition is nothing to sneeze at. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $charisma >= 80>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Take on the risk yourself. "I'll rescue your sister myself, acting as an independent individual. But it will take a lot of time to pull things together, as well as for me to slip away from my duties to handle this, so you'll have to be patient. It could take weeks, maybe even a month."</div>' 'reaversolo'>><<setloyal -10>><<setcunning +1>><<setcourage +1>><</link>><</if>> <<if $charisma < 80>><div class="inactive-item">Take on the risk yourself. "I'll rescue your sister myself, acting as an independent individual. But it will take a lot of time to pull things together, as well as for me to slip away from my duties to handle this, so you'll have to be patient. It could take weeks, maybe even a month."</div><</if>> <<if ($rank is "Captain" or $rank is "Commander") and $trainingtime >= 3>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Your squad of officers would be well-suited for this. "I have a team of agents that I trust; I trained them myself. I could send them in to rescue your sister with no one being the wiser."</div>' 'reaversquad'>><</link>><</if>> <<if (($rank != "Captain" and $rank != "Commander") or $trainingtime < 3)>><div class="inactive-item">Your squad of officers would be well-suited for this. "I have a team of agents that I trust; I trained them myself. I could send them in to rescue your sister with no one being the wiser."</div><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'd be happy to provide you with advice, but I'm afraid there's not much else I can do for you."</div>' 'militarysiblingsdecline'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm sorry. I can't help you with this."</div>' 'militarysiblingsdecline'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

If you're caught, you could simply claim you were operating under your own independent will, as <<c firstname>> <<c surname>>, someone who decided to help the Reavers in $her own free time, minimizing risk to the Shepherds as an organization. But since you can't involve the other Shepherds while still sticking to that story, you'll probably have to find and hire help yourself, and then there will be the matter of actually executing the rescue mission… And should you tell the others, or…? Tacarey snorts, incredulous. "You can't be serious." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Spare him a flat look. "Have you ever even seen a real battle? I'm the best shot you have, greenie."</div>' 'tacareyduel'>><<setcompassionate -1>><<setloyal -1>><<setcharisma -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Get sarcastic with him. "Oh, you're right, I guess I won't be of much help to you. I'm only the Hero of Haven, vanquisher of hellspawn and demons, after all..."</div>' 'tacareyduel'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Keep your gaze focused on Savarin and Imogín; they're in charge here, not him. "Look me up. I'm sure my reputation speaks for itself. My skills will prove invaluable to your efforts."</div>' 'tacareyduel'>><<setloyal +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Turn things back on him. "If you have any better ideas, I'm all ears."</div>' 'tacareyduel'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Tacarey flushes an ugly shade of puce, while Savarin looks thoughtful and Imogín seems on the fence. "It's not as if I haven't heard of you," she allows, shifting nervously from foot to foot. "I believe you have the skills to extract Emarynne—skills that we lack. But to wait several weeks…" "To accomplish the level of stealth and untraceability you need, it has to take that long," you shoot back. "The Shepherds can't look like they're helping you <i>at all</i>; it's not in our jurisdiction to intercede in this, and doing so will affect a lot more lives than just my own if we're caught. If I make things happen any faster, I risk drawing attention to myself and to your rescue efforts. It would be disastrous for both me and your sister." Savarin is nodding slowly, tracing his lower lip with a gloved finger. "It would be doable," he says, thinking aloud. "We've waited this long, and the Teivels haven't even issued any demands. Hostage situations like this can last a year or more; it's not as if they would be in any rush to harm her. We could…" "I don't believe this!" Tacarey bursts out then. "I don't care who <<nobr>><<if $plural is true>> $she say $she are, $she're a stranger and Ema's our sister! <<else>> $she says $she is, $she're a stranger and Ema's our sister! <</if>><</nobr>> How on earth are we supposed to trust $them with her life without even knowing who this—this—<i>interlocutor</i> is?" He wheels on you and says in a strident tone, "I want you to face me in a bout. Real weapons aren't allowed here, but fencing foils will do. If you beat me, then you can rescue our sister. If not, I'll know you're not up to snuff." <<include "tacareyschallenge">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Scoff. You 'can' rescue his sister? "Forget it. I was doing you a favor, but I'm not going to work with people who can't even recognize that."</div>' 'tacareyscoffer'>><<setloyal -3>><<setcompassionate -3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Agree to duel him with practice rapiers. You're confident you can defeat this upstart handily.</div>' 'tacareyagreeduel'>><</link>> <<if not hasVisited("tacareyhesitate") and $mainweapon is not "sword">><<link '<div class="choice-item">Hesitate. "Not all military prowess lies in the sword, you know. Just because you could beat me in a fencing match doesn't mean I'm not the best person for this job. My specialty lies in the $mainweapon."</div>' 'tacareyhesitate'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Decline to the duel. It just doesn't seem prudent, for many reasons.</div>' 'tacareydecline'>><<setcourage -1>><<setreputation -1>><<setintelligence +1>><<setcunning +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Imogín gives a kind of alarmed cry, and Savarin starts forward, beginning, "<<c rank>> <<c surname>>—" You shake your head, turning away and shaking off his gloved hand. "Good luck with your sister's rescue. You're going to need it." You make your exit, leaving the small walled garden and the sounds of the Reaver siblings arguing fiercely with each other behind as you return to the politician's luncheon. Not your problem any longer, thank the Sun. <<include "suncourtiermissiongo">>

"Now, hold on—" Imogín begins in exasperated tones, but Tacarey nods curtly—apparently approving of your decisiveness—and instantly steps out of the courtyard to find a servant. "Fetch me a pair of fencing foils from my rooms at once!" <<page_break "..." "tacareysduel">>

Tacarey snorts. "If you're not canny or strong enough to defeat me without your primary weapon, there's no way I could trust you to stage a dangerous rescue of my sister." <<include "tacareyschallenge">>

Tacarey snorts. "So a coward as well as a blowhard, are you?" He turns to Savarin and Imogín, who look both shocked and mortified. "There's no way someone who can't even work up the nerve to face me in a practice bout would ever be able to rescue Emarynne. We're better off handling it ourselves." He storms off, and after casting you weary and half-apologetic glances, his older siblings trail after him, leaving you to return to the main luncheon alone. <<include "suncourtiermissiongo">>

You're too high-profile to slip away on a rescue mission without raising a <i>lot</i> of questions, but no one will question your recruits being deployed on a mission you sent them on yourself. And even if it would technically be a personal favor for their captain, you're certain that your team could pull this off with no one being the wiser. Savarin raises a brow, and Imogín and Tacarey exchange nervous—but possibly hopeful—looks with each other. Once you explain your line of thinking, though, they seem more open to the idea. "It would be a brilliant way of handling things," Imogín allows reluctantly. "From what we've seen and heard, the quality of your officers far surpasses what we could get from common soldiers or ordinary sellswords and mercenaries. And you're separated from the rest of the Sun Court and the Autarchy enough that the Teivels won't have any way of tracking your movements. But that's only <i>if</i> your people won't get caught." "They won't," you assure them. "And they're capable of retrieving our sister with the delicacy this matter requires?" Tacarey demands. "This is her life we're talking about. I'm not sure I can simply trust your word that your people up to the task." You sigh; you suppose that makes some kind of sense, but you also can't orchestrate a full-blown meeting between your team and the Reavers: otherwise the Teivels could catch wind of something. "I can have one of them run into you here," you say. "We can say they're here for some other Shepherd errand. But it'll have to be a brief and nondescript encounter. You can make your assessment from there and decide if you want us to proceed." The siblings seem somewhat satisfied with this. "Imogín asks, "Who should we expect to meet?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Daren Corby will be the team leader for this mission."</div>' 'autogenerated_686223'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Cybele Minte will be the team leader for this mission."</div>' 'autogenerated_686224'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Justyn Hattoc will be the team leader for this mission."</div>' 'autogenerated_686225'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Ysa Ull will be the team leader for this mission."</div>' 'autogenerated_686226'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if (($darenscoretactics >= 95) and ($darenscorestealth >= 95))>> <<set $petition +3>> <<setreputation +3>> <<set $resources += 2>> <<if $noblejoin is false>> <<set $noblejoin to true>> <</if>> <<set $shepherdgold += 500>> <<else>> <<setreputation -5>> <</if>><</nobr>> The Reavers nod slowly again, taking this all in. Finally Tacarey says, his voice now hesitant: "And… if we do decide to trust you and go through with this… what do you want in return?" At Savarin's annoyed look, he says, "What? Let's not pretend that $her help is going to come free." <<include 'reaversrespond'>>

<<nobr>><<if (($cybelescoretactics >= 95) and ($cybelescorestealth >= 95))>> <<set $petition += 3>> <<setreputation +3>> <<set $resources += 2>> <<if $noblejoin is false>> <<set $noblejoin to true>> <</if>> <<set $shepherdgold += 500>> <<else>> <<setreputation -5>> <</if>><</nobr>> The Reavers nod slowly again, taking this all in. Finally Tacarey says, his voice now hesitant: "And… if we do decide to trust you and go through with this… what do you want in return?" At Savarin's annoyed look, he says, "What? Let's not pretend that $her help is going to come free." <<include 'reaversrespond'>>

<<nobr>><<if (($justynscoretactics >= 95) and ($justynscorestealth >= 95))>> <<set $petition += 3>> <<setreputation +3>> <<set $resources += 2>> <<if $noblejoin is false>> <<set $noblejoin to true>> <</if>> <<set $shepherdgold += 500>> <<else>> <<setreputation -5>> <</if>><</nobr>> The Reavers nod slowly again, taking this all in. Finally Tacarey says, his voice now hesitant: "And… if we do decide to trust you and go through with this… what do you want in return?" At Savarin's annoyed look, he says, "What? Let's not pretend that $her help is going to come free." <<include 'reaversrespond'>>

<<nobr>><<if (($ysascoretactics >= 95) and ($ysascorestealth >= 95))>> <<set $petition += 3>> <<setreputation +3>> <<set $resources += 2>> <<if $noblejoin is false>> <<set $noblejoin to true>> <</if>> <<set $shepherdgold += 500>> <<else>> <<setreputation -5>> <</if>><</nobr>> The Reavers nod slowly again, taking this all in. Finally Tacarey says, his voice now hesitant: "And… if we do decide to trust you and go through with this… what do you want in return?" At Savarin's annoyed look, he says, "What? Let's not pretend that $her help is going to come free." <<include 'reaversrespond'>>

You tell them about your struggle against Sibella De Vespe, and each Reaver sibling, to a man, readily agrees to give their signatures for your petition. "<i>If</i> your team leader seems up to snuff," Imogín adds. You nod, sighing. "I'll have them drop by here before the end of the day. The sooner the better, I suppose." "Then, in the case that all goes well, we'll add our names to your list before you submit it to the High Augur," Savarin says. "I never liked that De Vespe woman, anyway," you hear Tacarey remark as you nod and turn away to track down a courier. You dispatch the messenger back to headquarters with written instructions for your team to find a way to covertly meet with the Reavers separately from you, and within the hour. Now you can only hope that they hold up to the siblings' scrutiny. For now, you turn back to the courtyard and rejoin the politicians' luncheon. You still have your own mission to focus on. <<include "suncourtiermissiongo">>

Tacerey visibly rolls his eyes, while Savarin looks resigned and Imogín looks crestfallen. "I told you this was a waste of time," the youngest brother tells his siblings. He shakes his head and turns away from you, stepping smartly out of the courtyard. "Come on. We need to focus on figuring out how to rescue Emarynne ourselves, not spilling our family business to any eavesdropping wastrel who happens to drop by." Imogín casts you a sideways, ambivalent glance as she turns to follow him. Sighing heavily, Savarin shakes his head, thanks you quietly for your time, and exits as well. You're left to return to the courtyard holding the politicians' luncheon alone. <<include "suncourtiermissiongo">>

Within minutes, you and Tacarey are standing across from each other on a small stretch of flagstones beside the duck pond, where noble lords and ladies would generally stand to observe the lily pads or perhaps to dance to the warbling of a string quartet. Tacarey holds his fencing foil—most similar to a rapier or an épée—with a confident, cocksure strength while you test yours, adjusting to its foreign weight, balance, and grip. Savarin and Imogín watch from the side, silent; a family of geese also observe the proceedings with an air of unimpressed bemusement. Tacarey assumes the starting position for a professional fencer, and Imogín barks, giving you very little forewarning: "Begin!" Tacarey launches himself forward, his rapier's blade flashing in the sunlight like the glinting of a weathervane on a rooftop. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Use your knowledge of nobles' military training to predict Tacarey's formations and moves.</div>' 'tacareyintelligenceduel'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Read Tacarey's character and manipulate his weaknesses to turn the battle in your favor.</div>' 'tacareycunningduel'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Throw Tacarey off-balance with an overwhelming show of force and offense, keeping him on the back foot.</div>' 'tacareycourageduel'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if ((($intelligence >= 85) and ($strength >= 85)) and ($sword >= 90))>> You've read extensively on both how nobles are instructed and how the Autarchy tends to train its soldiers, so Tacarey's patterns and forms are extremely easy for you to predict. You parry his blows effortlessly, tracking his stances and reactions like you're playing a chess match: <i>if I disrupt his redoublement, he'll follow up with a flèche, at which point I can move in with an inquartata, followed by a balestra…</i> <br><br> <<include "tacareysduelvictory">> <<else>> However, Tacarey is both zealous and skillful in his attacks; you find it difficult to retain the memory of standard fencing techniques and favored army methods while a blade is whipping at you and hissing past your face like a sidewinder. You find yourself hard-pressed to parry his blows, let alone remember anything of what you read, and soon enough you find yourself scrambling backwards as Tacarey attacks… <br><br> <<include "tacareysdueldefeat">><</if>> <</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if ((($cunning >= 85) and ($strength >= 85)) and ($sword >= 90))>> Tacarey may be formally and extensively trained, but he's also an impetuous hothead. You use this knowledge to your favor as you parry and strike, effortlessly keeping up with the noble's movements. He's eager to assert himself, impress his siblings, and prove that you are, indeed, not a person worth begging help from, so he can't help but press forward with a laughably predictable offensive flurry. You subtly goad, coax, and provoke him, stoking the flames of Tacarey's temper higher and making it difficult for him to plan his moves ahead of time. The more he gives in to his emotions, the more easily you land hits on him. <br><br> <<include "tacareysduelvictory">> <<else>> However, Tacarey is both zealous and skillful in his attacks; you find it difficult to keep up or read his body language while a blade is whipping at you through the air and hissing past your face like a sidewinder. You find yourself hard-pressed to parry his blows, let alone strategize anything beyond your simple gut reactions, and soon enough you find yourself scrambling backwards as Tacarey attacks… <br><br> <<include "tacareysdueldefeat">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if ((($courage >= 85) and ($strength >= 85)) and ($sword >= 90))>> Tacarey may be confident to the point of arrogance, but you know he probably hasn't faced real, erstwhile aggression and violence much in his life: the majority of his battles so far would have been in a practice and instructional sense, eased by the assurance that they could be called to a halt at any time and that there was never much danger of him getting seriously hurt. He hasn't had to look actual threats in the eye, hasn't had to fight for his life the way you have. Hael, you're pretty sure the idea of what you went through in Heth Macoll alone would be enough to make him soil his pants. <br><br> With that in mind, you launch an extremely animated offensive display at Tacarey, accessing the spurt of energy and battle-adrenaline that comes from being a veteran warrior. Tacarey's eyes widen as he struggles to keep from being pressed back by your attacks; he clearly quickly realizes just how out of his depth he is as he tries to parry your blows again, and again, and again… <br><br> <<include "tacareysduelvictory">> <<else>> However, Tacarey is both zealous and skillful in his own attacks; you find it difficult to press forward while a blade is whipping at you through the air and hissing past your face like a sidewinder. You find yourself hard-pressed to parry his blows, drive him back with the force of your own offense, and soon enough you find yourself scrambling backwards as Tacarey attacks… <br><br> <<include "tacareysdueldefeat">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<setreputation +1>><<set $petition += 3>><<set $resources += 2>><<set $noblejoin to true>><<setgold +300>>Soon enough, it's all over. Tacarey bends, drenched in sweat and panting for breath, as he clasps his hands to knees and waves his concerned brother off. "I yield," he gasps, his chest heaving in and out as you stand, casually examining your blade. "I yield." When he straightens, however, his eyes are bright and his grin is invigorated rather than resentful. "That was marvelous," he says in admiring tones. Then he bows to you: a deep, reverential bow of respect. "I'm sorry that I ever doubted you. You've proven me unmistakably wrong. So, please—forgive my arrogance and help us rescue our sister." You nod and throw down your rapier, spending the next several minutes discussing things with the Reaver siblings, who seem to view you in a new light following your easy defeat of their younger brother. "He's the best of us at dueling," Imogín admits. "How easily you put us in our place." They're now happy to defer to you when it comes to the rescue of Emarynne. You promise to arrange things to retrieve her as soon as possible, keeping things as discreet and private as you possibly can; and in return, the siblings agree whole-heartedly to lend their names and testimonies to your petition against Sibella de Vespe. After enough of the details are hashed out, Savarin, Imogín, and Tacarey decide to take their leave and exit before too much attention is drawn to them. You're left to return to the main courtyard alone, keeping your expression casual and indifferent as you surveil the crowd for other potential allies. <<include "suncourtiermissiongo">>

<<setreputation -2>> Soon enough, it's all over. Tacarey leans forward, and the tip of his blade smacks against your cheek in a stinging, insulting reprimand: it's the final point he needs to win the bout. You gasp, your hand flying up to your smarting face as water instinctively springs to your eyes. When you blink away the tears, you find Tacarey standing there, smirking at you as Imogín says sharply, "That's enough. You won, Tac." "Indeed I did," Tacarey replies, throwing down his foil in the grass. "And I think I've proven that this—interlocutor—isn't fit to entrust our sister's life with. Even Cousin Hendon can beat me in a match, at least every once in a while, and he's fifteen years my senior." He turns to his siblings. "Come on. We need to focus on figuring out how to rescue Emarynne ourselves, not spilling our family business to any eavesdropping wastrel who happens to drop by." Imogín casts you a sideways, ambivalent glance as she turns to follow him out of the garden. Sighing heavily, Savarin shakes his head, thanks you quietly for your time, and exits quickly as well. You're left to return to the courtyard holding the politicians' luncheon alone, your face warm and stinging from your fresh humiliation. <<include "suncourtiermissiongo">>

You saunter over to where Riel is deep in conversation with an elegant and richly-clothed aristocrat with a fall of long, silky raven hair and austere, imperious features, his narrow eyes a cold green and his thin lips pursed in an expression of permanent sarcastic assessment. "<<c firstname>>," Riel says smoothly, stepping aside to let you join the conversation as seamlessly as if he'd beckoned you over himself. "This is Lord Caspien Pheyton, heir to the duchy of Kierlian. His Grace is an avid venture capitalist; his business acumen is renowned throughout the Sun Court." Lord Caspien smiles slightly, though it doesn't quite reach his eyes. "<i>Your</i> name, Master Syndran, has reached my ears from time to time as well," he says, his voice both droll and cool. "But I never knew you had a penchant for flattery." Riel dips a short bow. "It is hardly flattery to state a fact, my lord." "Well, many here would avoid stating the fact at all, if it meant denying a rival their due credit." Pheyton turns and plucks a pair of fresh chalices from a servant's passing tray, passing one to Riel; he hardly takes any notice of you. "Now. While I can't say I hate the praise, there are more pressing matters to discuss." While the man's attention is momentarily directed elsewhere, you look towards Riel and meet his gaze. The former guild leader's expression hardly changes—he only tilts his head slightly, a single brow arched—but you think you can glean enough of the matter from his body language. 'Duke' is one of the highest titles an aristocrat can hold in the Sun Court: this Lord Caspien must be powerful and influential indeed, and his name on your petition could do your cause a world of good. Leave it to Riel to pinpoint one of the most important players at this luncheon. "We were just discussing trade routes," Riel says aloud after he's made your introduction to the future duke. "As it happens, His Grace has invested a considerable amount of capital into several burgeoning companies and trading houses…" "…Each of whose profits have taken a drastic hit as a result of the rising Endarkened numbers," Lord Caspien finishes, his tone still that of half-amusement, half-boredom. "I made a gamble on you Shepherds, Commander-Seneschal. Many of my peers and fellow investors balked when the Endarkened began appearing in Haven, choosing to lock their gold away in faraway vaults in the Sesz Isles and Sacor City. But when the former Autarch established your order, I took the calculated risk of believing that your fighters would address the problem and chose to keep funneling my money into the economy." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You frown. "But demon numbers are drastically reduced. Haven is practically clear of Imp swarms, and has been for a while."</div>' 'autogenerated_686227'>><<setcourage +1>><</link>> <<if $charisma >= 70>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Bow and smile politely. "We thank you for your faith, Your Grace."</div>' 'autogenerated_686228'>><<setcharisma +1>><<setriel +1>><</link>><</if>> <<if $charisma < 70>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Bow and smile politely. "We thank you for your faith, Your Grace."</div>' 'caspiencontinues1'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Keep your expression neutral and continue listening.</div>' 'caspiencontinues1'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Challenge him. "Perhaps we would be able to address the problem more effectively if we were better-funded. Perhaps you could show your support through a donation?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686229'>><<setcunning +1>><<setriel -1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Caspien waves a dismissive hand and doesn't bother to address your point. <<include 'caspiencontinues1'>>

Caspien nods curtly to you. <<include 'caspiencontinues1'>>

Caspien flicks you a look as if you're little better than a crust of mud he discovered on the back of his boot heel. "You say you're under-funded?" He casts a look of mock-surprise towards Riel. "And with the former leader of the Merchants Guild as one of your commanders? How ever did that happen?" Riel doesn't bother to address the point, but he also doesn't look at you. From the set of his jaw, you think a vein would be ticking in his forehead if he wasn't so in control of his expression. <<include 'caspiencontinues1'>>

"By our calculations," Riel says coolly, "while overall Endarkened numbers are technically showing a slight, steady increase throughout the Continent, the Shepherds are doing enough to stem the tide and cut down their ranks en masse that their presence is actually maintaining a kind of equilibrium: we destroy them at the same rate they're attempting to surge their numbers, so their forces are effectively stymied. Without our intervention and our ability to hold the line, the problem would be massively exacerbated: their numbers would be ten-fold, if not twenty. By this time next year, if all goes according to plan, the rate of their intrusion should be in decline for the first time since they reappeared in Blest decades ago." Lord Caspien makes a small, dismissive sound, withdrawing a fan from his sleeve and flicking it out in a wordless gesture of disinterest. "Yes, one can't deny that you've managed to clear most of the major Eastern cities of the pests," he drawls, "but what about the actual trade routes? The roads that cut through the Damba Plains and the Southern Crescent, which enable our caravans and cargo trains to deliver goods between the rural farmlands, the cities, and everything in between?" He makes another lazy, twirling gesture with the fan. "You of all people should know how badly those trade routes need protection, Commander. When you were guild leader, you would have seen the numbers. Your own investments had to have been impacted by the Endarkened attacks. Bandits and highwaymen are one thing, but they are a known and age-old threat. But most companies will balk at sending their caravans through routes known to be infested by Revenants and Imps." Riel tilts his head slightly, neither an affirmation nor a denial. "When I was guild leader," he says silkily, "I addressed the problem by hiring my own security teams to guard our investments." Lord Caspien snorts. "Yes, but we both know that's an expensive and impractical holdover. Most common mercenaries or even soldiers don't have the training or skill to stand up to the Endarkened; not the way you Shepherds do. The insurance on their lives alone is often so steep that it creates more debt than profit." "I never found that to be the case. Perhaps I could refer you to my insurance firms." "Thank you, but I think you know that's not my point." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"What is your point, my lord? What is it that you would suggest?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686230'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Maybe His Grace has a point, Riel. If we fail to adequately protect the trade routes, the economy at large will suffer."</div>' 'autogenerated_686231'>><<setriel -5>><<setcunning -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"We concentrate on the cities because that's what the Endarkened target, Your Grace: the Continent's population centers. We focus more on saving lives rather than saving coin."</div>' 'autogenerated_686232'>><<setriel +1>><<setloyal +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Hold your tongue and continue listening.</div>' 'autogenerated_686233'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Caspien turns to you now with a thin but charming smile. "You ought to increase your patrols along the most populous trade routes," the lord says, in a somewhat arrogant and commanding tone. "The Phoenix Pass, the Road of Chel, the Old King's Road, the Central Highway, Merchant's Run, the Serpent's Coil, and the Amber Corridor. The more you focus on clearing Endarkened from along those roads, the more <i>everyone</i> will benefit." He pauses for a moment, letting his statement hang in the air, before turning to you and practically purring, "Master Syndran was telling me all about your investigation against the High Court Mystic. <i>She</i> has never made trade a priority in all her politicking. Hopefully you Shepherds will see good sense where she couldn't." <<include 'caspiencontinues2'>>

Caspien turns to you now with a thin but charming smile, while Riel frowns at you, his eyes now half-lidded in something approximating a warning glare. "You ought to increase your patrols along the most populous trade routes," the lord says, in a somewhat arrogant and commanding tone. "The Phoenix Pass, the Road of Chel, the Old King's Road, the Central Highway, Merchant's Run, the Serpent's Coil, and the Amber Corridor. The more you focus on clearing Endarkened from along those roads, the more <i>everyone</i> will benefit." He pauses for a moment, letting his statement hang in the air, before turning to you and practically purring, "Master Syndran was telling me all about your investigation against the High Court Mystic. <i>She</i> has never made trade a priority in all her politicking. Hopefully you Shepherds will see good sense where she couldn't." <<include 'caspiencontinues2'>>

Caspien turns to you now with an impatient movement of his fan. "So the sellswords, travelers, tourists, and merchants that travel those routes every day are not worth saving, only those who live in urban centers?" he asks, his voice haughty and high-handed. "Let us not pretend that defending those trade routes wouldn't also result in saving human lives." He turns back to Riel. "You ought to increase your patrols along the most populous trade routes," the lord says, in a somewhat arrogant and commanding tone. "The Phoenix Pass, the Road of Chel, the Old King's Road, the Central Highway, Merchant's Run, the Serpent's Coil, and the Amber Corridor. The more you focus on clearing Endarkened from along those roads, the more <i>everyone</i> will benefit." He pauses for a moment, letting his statement hang in the air, before turning to you and practically purring, "Master Syndran was telling me all about your investigation against the High Court Mystic. <i>She</i> has never made trade a priority in all her politicking. Hopefully you Shepherds will see good sense where she couldn't." <<include 'caspiencontinues2'>>

"You ought to increase your patrols along the most populous trade routes," the lord says, in a somewhat arrogant and commanding tone. "The Phoenix Pass, the Road of Chel, the Old King's Road, the Central Highway, Merchant's Run, the Serpent's Coil, and the Amber Corridor. The more you focus on clearing Endarkened from along those roads, the more <i>everyone</i> will benefit." He pauses for a moment, letting his statement hang in the air, before turning to you and practically purring, "Master Syndran was telling me all about your investigation against the High Court Mystic. <i>She</i> has never made trade a priority in all her politicking. Hopefully you Shepherds will see good sense where she couldn't." <<include 'caspiencontinues2'>>

It's a subtle inflection, but his meaning seems clear: accommodate his request, and he'll aid you in your petition against De Vespe. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Bristle at his condescending, thoughtless tone. "The Shepherds are not common soldiers, to be pushed around and sicced like hunting dogs by their masters."</div>' 'autogenerated_686234'>><<setcourage +1>><<setcompassionate -1>><<setriel -10>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Agree with him to secure his signature. His name will hold a lot of weight with the Autarch and High Augur. "We can increase Shepherd patrols in those areas. As you say, such a move would benefit us all."</div>' 'autogenerated_686235'>><<setriel -5>><<setcunning +1>><<set $petition += 1>><</link>> <<if $charisma >= 80 and $riel >= 75>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Smile blandly, as if you're not sure what to say, and look to Riel in a clear move of deference.</div>' 'autogenerated_686236'>><<setriel +5>><<setintelligence +1>><<setcunning +1>><<set $petition += 1>><</link>><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

Instantly, Riel's eyes narrow at you in an expression of severe disapproval, while Caspien laughs quietly, the sound sliding like ice down your spine. "No?" The lord tilts his head, silken black hair slipping over his shoulder and touching your senses with a whiff of white tea and jasmine. "And here I thought people referred to you as the dogs of the Autarchy. You're supposed to be the sheepdogs protecting the Autarch's flock, no? Mmm. Perhaps he should be informed that you're beginning to chafe at your leashes." With a careless shrug, Lord Caspien turns on his elegant heel and drifts away without another word. <<include 'caspienangryexit'>>

Instantly, Riel's eyes narrow at you in an expression of severe disapproval. But before he can say anything, Lord Caspien turns to you with a cool, glittering smile of delight. His eyes sparkle with a kind of gleeful malice, like icicles in the sunlight. "How easy you make it," he says in an innocent, marveling tone, as if you'd just done an extremely novel parlor trick. "I much prefer dealing with you than with your colleague here. He was giving me a <i>much</i> more difficult time." Then he laughs with genuine amusement, the light moving down the pale column of his throat as he casts a mocking kind of glance at Riel, who looks visibly annoyed now. "Well. Such a happy accord must be shared with my industry friends. I'll bid you a good day for now." Almost as an afterthought, he adds to you as he turns to leave: "You can add my name to your petition, if you like." With that, he strolls away, leaving behind an empty space scented with white tea, jasmine, and a hint of self-satisfied smugness. <<include 'caspienagreedexit'>>

<<nobr>><<if $rielromanceflag >= 20 or $rielromance is true>> <<set $rielromanceflag += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>>Riel smiles slightly as you meet his gaze, as if he knows exactly what you're doing and appreciates your show of faith in him. He turns back to Lord Caspien and says smoothly, with a show of thoughtfulness: "I suppose I could see some sense in such a proposal. But there are many factors to consider, of course: I am not the unilateral leader of the Shepherds by any means. But the trade routes are important regions to scrutinize, to be sure." What follows is an impressive display of careful haggling and deft beating-around-the-bush. A less wary observer—or someone less familiar with Riel's usually-precise, deliberate language—might miss his technique, but you note how the former merchant leader takes pains to make Lord Caspien feel heard, even agreed with and validated, without ever outright promising to do as he suggests. After several long minutes of discussion, the future duke consents to having his name added to your petition and turns away to hold a conversation with his nearby secretary, looking pleased and convinced that his profits are on the way to an increase. Riel turns drolly to you while Caspien is occupied. You lean forward and say in a whisper, "Well done. You managed to convince him to join our cause without actually giving him anything." Riel shrugs lightly. "There are no laws against implying heavily… or lying. If Lord Caspien feels a certain way after our meeting, no one can <i>make</i> me follow through on whatever he thinks transpired. And if he's upset when his perceptions don't come to pass, I'll smooth it over with some excuses then." At your look, his lips quirk slightly. "Given the stakes we're playing with, I think my honor is the least of our concerns, <<c firstname>>." <<include 'rielcaspiensuccesschoices'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Trust me, I have nothing but respect for your methods."</div>' 'autogenerated_686237'>><<setcunning +1>><<setriel +1>><</link>> <<if $rielromance is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"How ever did I land such an ingenious lover?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686238'>><<set $rielromanceflag += 1>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Just don't sell your soul to the devils here, all right? Some things just aren't worth it."</div>' 'autogenerated_686239'>><<setcunning -1>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Riel shoots you the smirk of two foxes grinning together over a kill. <<include 'caspienproposition'>>

Riel shoots you a sudden and mischievous grin that turns his face boyish and youthful. Your hand itches with the sudden desire to touch him, to run your fingers through his careful hair or even pull him closer… <<include 'caspienproposition'>>

Riel shrugs again, an ambivalent gesture. "I've been doing this since I got to Haven," he says off-handedly. "It's second nature to me now. If you were hoping to salvage my purity, you arrived a few decades too late." <<include 'caspienproposition'>>

Lord Caspien returns with an air of brisk efficiency, and you lean away from each other. "Well," he begins loftily, "that was certainly more interesting than most of the conversations I have at these kinds of events." He suddenly lays his fan against Riel's forearm, a coy and flirtatious gesture that Lavinet refers to as <i>the Bedmate Beckon</i>. "I should like to continue our acquaintance, Master Syndran. Perhaps you would join me in my estate in Whitestone sometime to discuss our mutual… business interests." Riel's face goes rigid as he obviously takes in Caspien's meaning. His blue eyes dart towards you, stony except for the flicker of helpless, mortified confusion in them. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $rielromance is false or $rielromanceflag < 10>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Hold back a snicker. "I'm sure Master Syndran would be <i>delighted</i>, Your Grace."</div>' 'autogenerated_686240'>><<setriel -5>><<set $rielromanceflag to 0>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You can't help but gape at the man's brazenness. You never expected a Sun Courtier to proposition one of you while you're on a mission!</div>' 'autogenerated_686241'>><<setriel +1>><<setloyal +1>><</link>> <<if $rielromance is true or $rielromanceflag >= 20>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Bite back the sudden sting of jealousy you feel in your chest and cheeks and throat. Who the hell does this man think he is?</div>' 'autogenerated_686242'>><<set $rielromanceflag += 3>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($rielromance is true or $rielromanceflag >= 20) or ($riel >= 85 and $charisma >= 70)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Smoothly step in to divert Caspien. "That sounds like great fun! Am I permitted to join in? I've been keen to learn more about business."</div>' 'autogenerated_686243'>><<setcharisma +1>><<setriel +1>><</link>><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

Riel shoots you the most venomous, hateful stare you've ever had the pleasure of receiving from him. He carefully extracts himself from Caspien's touch and murmurs, his posture stiff and unyielding: "Unfortunately, I am so busy with my duties with the Shepherds that I scarcely ever make it away from headquarters. But should we ever run into each other at the Whitestone social clubs, I would be grateful to hear your thoughts on the frontier's deflation and currency issues. Your position affords you fascinating insight on that region, after all." It's as artful of a rejection as you've ever heard, and to his credit, Caspien's expression of heavy-lidded interest doesn't change. He merely nods and says coolly, taking a step back: "Of course. We can share a drink and discuss… should luck ever happen to bring us together again." He turns and leaves in a swish of flashing silk robes. Riel shoots you a warning look, as if to say, <i>Don't you dare say a word</i>, before he shakes his head and drifts away with a sigh, muttering something about tracking down his next target. Stifling a laugh, you turn back to the party and decide to do the same. <<include 'suncourtiermissiongo'>>

Riel looks similarly discomfited, but he extracts himself from Caspien's touch and murmurs, smoothly enough: "Unfortunately, I am so busy with my duties with the Shepherds that I scarcely ever make it away from headquarters. But should we ever run into each other at the Whitestone social clubs, I would be grateful to hear your thoughts on the frontier's deflation and currency issues. Your position affords you fascinating insight on that region, after all." " It's as artful of a rejection as you've ever heard, and to his credit, Caspien's expression of heavy-lidded interest doesn't change. He merely nods and says coolly, taking a step back: "Of course. We can share a drink and discuss… should luck ever happen to bring us together again." He turns and leaves in a swish of flashing silk robes. Riel turns despairing eyes towards you, and the foreign expression of total bewilderment on his face is enough to make you stifle a giggle. "Gods above, man, what exactly were you saying to him before I got here?" you ask in a conspiratorial whisper. "Nothing of note," Riel hisses back. "I think he simply views us as… novelties. Playthings. I'm of interest for the moment, so he'd like to… examine… me further. As soon as he sates his curiosity, he'll move on to his next object of interest." <<include 'rielrejectionchoices'>>

Before your sullen glower at Lord Caspien can turn into anything more dangerous, however, Riel himself carefully extracts himself from the future duke's touch. "Unfortunately, I am so busy with my duties with the Shepherds that I scarcely ever make it away from headquarters," he says, his tone polite but undeniably aloof. "Even in my personal life, I'm more of a homebody: I prefer to stay at home with my partner." It's as artful of a rejection as you've ever heard, and to his credit, Caspien's expression of confident intrigue doesn't change into one of anger or embarrassment. He merely takes a step back, casting you a cursory, albeit questioning, glance, before he murmurs, casting his eyes down: "Of course. Well, if I ever need to prevail upon you again, I shall be sure to send a note." He turns and leaves in a swish of flashing silk robes. Riel turns despairing eyes towards you, and the foreign expression of total bewilderment on his face is enough to make you stifle a smile, though an angry, simmering tension still burns like mead in your gut. <<include 'rielromancecontinuation'>>

<<nobr>><<if $gender is "male" and $rielromanceflag >= 20>> <<set $rielromanceflag += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>>Riel hides a smile while Caspien shoots you a look of both total shock and the muted, disgusted loathing of someone who's been thwarted. He instantly drops his hand and steps away from Riel, looking off into the distance as he says reluctantly, "Yes, well… perhaps if our paths ever happen to cross…" "Well, if you run into Riel, you're sure to run into me," you chirrup brightly. "Wherever he goes, I go." Caspien casts Riel a skeptical glance, as if gauging whether this could possibly true or not, before he seems to decide that his pursuit is no longer worth it. After a few more desultory words of awkward conversation, the man takes his leave in a swirl of flashing silk robes and the hint of jasmine and white tea. Riel turns despairing eyes towards you, and the foreign expression of total bewilderment on his face is enough to make you stifle a laugh. "<i>Thank you</i>," the former merchant leader says in a murmur, sounding audibly relieved. "I was caught off-guard, for once. Of all things I expected him to say or do, my mind could not have been farther from <i>that</i>." "You must have been quite persuasive in your attempts to commit him to our cause," you tease him. "The man's practically infatuated with you, and this is the first time you've met!" Riel rolls his eyes. "Yes, well, one can never quite predict the effect one can have on a person," he says, his tone a bit more droll as he obviously processes what just happened. Then he shakes his head and says, "Well, let us put that unpleasant surprise neatly behind us. We must press on with our task and find our next target. There's no time to waste, not with De Vespe afoot." "Just take care not to seduce the next person, too," you call after him. Riel rolls his eyes again and disappears into the crowd, leaving you to turn back to your own mission. <<include 'suncourtiermissiongo'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Yes, you're probably right. He acted as if your consent was a given, not something to be earned."</div>' 'autogenerated_686244'>><<setriel +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"<i>Or</i> he could have been actually interested in you. What's not to like? Attractive man like you, with your intellect, ambition, and wit..."</div>' 'autogenerated_686245'>><<setriel +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Riel and Caspien singing in a tree. K-I-S-S—"</div>' 'autogenerated_686246'>><<setintelligence -1>><<setriel -2>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Riel nods sharply, then blows out a long breath. "Well," he says eventually, striving for renewed professionalism as he straightens his cravat, "we can put that unpleasantness neatly behind us. On to the next target. We don't have time to waste." "Just take care not to seduce the next person, too," you call after him. Riel rolls his eyes and disappears into the crowd, leaving you to turn back to your own mission. <<include 'suncourtiermissiongo'>>

<<nobr>><<if $rielromanceflag >= 10>> <<set $rielromanceflag += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>>Riel clears his throat in a rather alarmed manner and waves an irritable hand at you. "Enough of that," he says waspishly, shooing you away. "On to our next targets. We don't have any time to waste on this nonsense." "Whatever you say," you sing as you lean away from his flapping hand. If you didn't know any better, you'd say Riel was blushing! He shakes his head at you before disappearing into the crowd, leaving you to turn back to your own mission. <<include 'suncourtiermissiongo'>>

Riel actually hisses at you, flapping his hand at you irritably like you're a troublesome swarm of gnats. "Away with you," he growls. "On to our next targets. We don't have any time to waste on this nonsense!" "Whatever you say," you sing as you lean away from his flapping hand. He shakes his head at you before disappearing into the crowd, leaving you to turn back to your own mission. <<include 'suncourtiermissiongo'>>

Riel catches your expression and smiles briefly. <<nobr>><<if $rielromance is true and $rielromanceflag >= 30>> "Becalm your possessiveness, love," he murmurs, a glint of mischief dancing in his blue eyes. "If you think I'd spare a glance at a pompous nitwit like Pheyton, you sorely underestimate my regard for you. He is no threat to you, I swear." <br><br> "Doesn't mean <i>I'm</i> not a threat to <i>him</i>," you return in a surly mutter, envisioning exactly what you'll do if Caspien ever touches Riel like that again. But the tightness in your chest eases slightly at the smile playing around Riel's mouth, and he risks placing his gloved hand on your forearm, pressing lightly in a silent gesture of affection. <br><br> "Put it out of your mind," Riel says, more of his usual dry humor returning to his tone. "We scarcely have the time to waste dwelling on blowhards like him. And if we're successful in our mission…" He trails off for a moment, then looks up at you and actually <i>winks</i>. "I'll spend one of these evenings showing you exactly why you have nothing to worry about." <br><br> You smile, and Riel gives you another encouraging squeeze and a warm, fond look before turning and disappearing into the crowd. You sigh and turn back to your own mission. Luckily for him, Lord Caspien Pheyton remains nowhere to be seen. <<else>> "School your features, <<c firstname>>," he mutters, with a trace of his usual dry amusement. "Your emotions are far too easy to read." <br><br> You blush, and Riel says with a quirk of his lips, "Come. Let's put that unpleasantness neatly behind us and press on with our task. We have no time to waste on nitwits like him." <br><br> He gives you a nod of encouragement, visibly seems to shake the awkwardness of Caspien's proposal off like so much dust from his pant legs, and then turns and disappears back into the crowd. You sigh and turn back to your own mission. Luckily for him, Lord Caspien Pheyton remains nowhere to be seen. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "suncourtiermissiongo">>

<<page_break "..." "caspienangryexitcontinued">>

Riel pins you with a cold stare. "Well done," he says sarcastically. "That's an hour of my careful work down the drain." You can't help but bristle further. "The man was an asshat, Riel. I refuse to let him treat us like the common help. We have our reasons for why we deploy our troops, where, and how." "We <i>also</i> have reasons for playing nice with a would-be duke," Riel returns with a hint of severity. "You may forget that Sibella de Vespe holds the keys to our collective imprisonment or even executions. I'm willing to sacrifice a little of my dignity to ensure her defeat and allay that fate." "Even to the point of dispatching Shepherd forces at the behest of…" You gesture at the jasmine-scented space that Lord Caspien just occupied. "…That fop?" Now Riel rolls his eyes. "There is such a thing as <i>lying</i>, <<c firstname>>." You have little to say to that beyond an abashed "…Oh." Sighing, Riel remarks that he needs to circulate and find a new target to persuade to your cause, and you wearily decide to do the same. <<include "suncourtiermissiongo">>

<<page_break "..." "caspienagreeexitcontinued">>

Riel turns dead, flat eyes to you. He looks markedly unimpressed as he says in a quiet tone, "I was trying to avoid saying anything so definitively. Making a hard promise like that to a man like Caspien Pheyton sets a precedent that I'm not sure is wise." You raise your brows. "But I thought we were supposed to do whatever it takes to rally people to our cause and against De Vespe. Surely moving a few patrols around to keep a would-be duke happy isn't too high a price to pay?" "No, but there is also such a thing as <i>lying</i>, <<c firstname>>." "…Ah." He shakes his head with a sigh and murmurs, "No matter. As you say, it's not exactly something that goes directly against our interests; it's not much of a sacrifice. Perhaps it would have been a waste of time to bandy more words back and forth with that ophidian, anyway." He inclines his head to you. "Back to it, then. No rest for the wicked." <<nobr>><<if $rielromance is true or $rielromanceflag >= 25>> He presses your forearm lightly, encouragingly, before he slips away. You turn back to the party yourself, scanning the crowd for your own next target. <<else>> He slips away as you turn back to the party yourself, scanning the crowd for your own next target. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "suncourtiermissiongo">>

You make your way towards the lone figure standing beneath the colonnades, leaning against a pillar with her arms folded and an ironic, slightly sneering expression on her face as she regards the party from beneath the wide brim of her large velvet hat. Of mid-sized height but projecting an air that makes her seem somehow taller, the woman wears a ruffled white blouse with a scarlet waistcoat and matching cravat; waves of short chestnut curls frame her sharp face at chin length. As you make your approach, you happen to pass another group of nobles standing and talking to each other with the usual bright, tinkling voices that aristocrats use when they're being syrupy and jovial with each other. As you walk past, however, you happen to catch the eye of one young woman with her black hair piled in a pretty style on top of her head. The woman's eyes flick towards you, then towards the aristocrat you're walking towards… and as she flicks out her fan to cover her mouth, she gives the tiniest, minutest shake of her head. Your step falters slightly, but before you can investigate further, the young woman glances away from you again and turns back to her friends with a merry laugh. After another moment of waiting to see if she'll look your way again—she doesn't—you resume your path towards the lone aristocrat, <<nobr>><<if $cunning >= 70 and $charisma >= 70>> your demeanor casual and unhurried as you school your expression into one of innocent unconcern. <<else>> your steps more cautious and slowed as you take in the woman with a renewed measure of wariness. <</if>><</nobr>> The woman watches you in turn, her blue-gray eyes startling in their frank directness… and naked interest. She looks at you with the eager amusement of a leopardess watching a rabbit creep into her den. There's an almost hungry calculation in her stare, too. You greet each other, and the woman says, speaking in a throaty, almost throbbingly-musical voice: "Come to pay your respects finally, I see." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Sweep a short bow. "I have. Please forgive that it took so long."</div>' 'honoriacontinues'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Hesitate. "I'm sorry, I don't believe I know who you are."</div>' 'honoriacontinues'>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Return her stare with a look of scorn. "Hardly. I was just curious why everyone seems to be avoiding you."</div>' 'honoriacontinues'>><<setcourage +1>><<setcompassionate -1>><<setcharisma -1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

A small smile twitches on the woman's lips. "I am Honoria Cynster," she tells you. "Though my friends call me Honor." There's a suppressed laugh in her voice as she says this, and her eyes glitter, as if the two of you are in together on a very good joke. You have to admit that you're a bit unnerved. Honoria's lack of a given title or claims to a particular fiefdom catches you off-guard: you have no way of gauging her place in the hierarchy of this party, which you suspect is exactly what she intended. Is she a friend of someone at the party? A second or third daughter, tangentially attached to her family name but otherwise lacking the influence and power of a first-born heir? Her clothes and bearing clearly speak to a refined background, but beyond that, you have a hard time reading exactly what she does or whom she may be connected to. Honoria's gray eyes dance with amusement as she watches you try to piece things together. "You haven't heard of my family, I see," she drawls. "Well, I can enlighten you, but I'm interested to see what your guess is, first. What do <i>you</i> think the Cynsters are known for?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You're a military family."</div>' 'autogenerated_686247'>><</link>> <<if $intelligence >= 65 or $cunning >= 70>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"You serve as spies for the Autarch."</div>' 'autogenerated_686248'>><<setcunning +1>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You design fashions for the Autarch."</div>' 'autogenerated_686249'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You're scholars."</div>' 'autogenerated_686250'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I truly have no idea."</div>' 'autogenerated_686251'>><<setintelligence -1>><<setcourage -1>><</link>> <<if $charisma >= 70>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I mislike leaving such answers to guesswork, my lady. It leaves too much room to cause offense when there's none intended."</div>' 'autogenerated_686252'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

Honoria shrugs lightly. "It's not a bad guess." Shifting her weight so that her shoulder leans up against her pillar, she glances away from you and says, "Once upon a time, before the Castigation, my forefather served as chief physician to the first Autarch—before that man had claimed the throne, even. The Autarch trusted my forebear with his life, and as a result, our line has served theirs ever since, ministering to them in a medical capacity. My father is the royal physicker, and tended both to the late Autarch in her final days and monitors the Golden One's health now." Glancing back at you, she smiles slightly and continues, "So we are not quite the blue-blooded nobles you see around us today: we <i>work</i> for a living, and though we hold a minor title and land as a result of our service, that fact alone sets us apart from the barons and dukes and coronets of the Sun Court. We're closer to the Court Mages, some of whom also hold titles and land, but who don't quite have the freedoms or influence of the politicians and major players of the court. The nobles of the Sun Court refer to this distinction as <i>first circle</i> and <i>second circle</i>, with smaller players, politicians, and common-born tangentials as part of the third circle and lower. No Court Mage has ever entered the first circle, incidentally… save for Lady Sibella de Vespe, perhaps." <<include 'cynsterexplanation'>>

Honoria glances at you, and you think something like surprise crosses her cool, distantly disdainful expression. "It's not a bad guess," she admits slowly. Shifting her weight so that her shoulder leans up against her pillar, she glances away from you and says, "Once upon a time, before the Castigation, my forefather served as chief physician to the first Autarch—before that man had claimed the throne, even. The Autarch trusted my forebear with his life, and as a result, our line has served theirs ever since, ministering to them in a medical capacity. My father is the royal physicker, and tended both to the late Autarch in her final days and monitors the Golden One's health now." Glancing back at you, she smiles slightly and continues, "So we are not quite the blue-blooded nobles you see around us today: we <i>work</i> for a living, and though we hold a minor title and land as a result of our service, that fact alone sets us apart from the barons and dukes and coronets of the Sun Court. We're closer to the Court Mages, some of whom also hold titles and land, but who don't quite have the freedoms or influence of the politicians and major players of the court. The nobles of the Sun Court refer to this distinction as <i>first circle</i> and <i>second circle</i>, with smaller players, politicians, and common-born tangentials as part of the third circle and lower. No Court Mage has ever entered the first circle, incidentally… save for Lady Sibella de Vespe, perhaps." <<include 'cynsterexplanation'>>

Honoria snorts. "Hardly." Shifting her weight so that her shoulder leans up against her pillar, she glances away from you and says, "Once upon a time, before the Castigation, my forefather served as chief physician to the first Autarch—before that man had claimed the throne, even. The Autarch trusted my forebear with his life, and as a result, our line has served theirs ever since, ministering to them in a medical capacity. My father is the royal physicker, and tended both to the late Autarch in her final days and monitors the Golden One's health now." Glancing back at you, she smiles slightly and continues, "So we are not quite the blue-blooded nobles you see around us today: we <i>work</i> for a living, and though we hold a minor title and land as a result of our service, that fact alone sets us apart from the barons and dukes and coronets of the Sun Court. We're closer to the Court Mages, some of whom also hold titles and land, but who don't quite have the freedoms or influence of the politicians and major players of the court. The nobles of the Sun Court refer to this distinction as <i>first circle</i> and <i>second circle</i>, with smaller players, politicians, and common-born tangentials as part of the third circle and lower. No Court Mage has ever entered the first circle, incidentally… save for Lady Sibella de Vespe, perhaps." <<include 'cynsterexplanation'>>

Honoria snorts. "Hardly, though it's not the worst guess in the world." Shifting her weight so that her shoulder leans up against her pillar, she glances away from you and says, "Once upon a time, before the Castigation, my forefather served as chief physician to the first Autarch—before that man had claimed the throne, even. The Autarch trusted my forebear with his life, and as a result, our line has served theirs ever since, ministering to them in a medical capacity. My father is the royal physicker, and tended both to the late Autarch in her final days and monitors the Golden One's health now." Glancing back at you, she smiles slightly and continues, "So we are not quite the blue-blooded nobles you see around us today: we <i>work</i> for a living, and though we hold a minor title and land as a result of our service, that fact alone sets us apart from the barons and dukes and coronets of the Sun Court. We're closer to the Court Mages, some of whom also hold titles and land, but who don't quite have the freedoms or influence of the politicians and major players of the court. The nobles of the Sun Court refer to this distinction as <i>first circle</i> and <i>second circle</i>, with smaller players, politicians, and common-born tangentials as part of the third circle and lower. No Court Mage has ever entered the first circle, incidentally… save for Lady Sibella de Vespe, perhaps." <<include 'cynsterexplanation'>>

Honoria snorts. Shifting her weight so that her shoulder leans up against her pillar, she glances away from you and says, "Once upon a time, before the Castigation, my forefather served as chief physician to the first Autarch—before that man had claimed the throne, even. The Autarch trusted my forebear with his life, and as a result, our line has served theirs ever since, ministering to them in a medical capacity. My father is the royal physicker, and tended both to the late Autarch in her final days and monitors the Golden One's health now." Glancing back at you, she smiles slightly and continues, "So we are not quite the blue-blooded nobles you see around us today: we <i>work</i> for a living, and though we hold a minor title and land as a result of our service, that fact alone sets us apart from the barons and dukes and coronets of the Sun Court. We're closer to the Court Mages, some of whom also hold titles and land, but who don't quite have the freedoms or influence of the politicians and major players of the court. The nobles of the Sun Court refer to this distinction as <i>first circle</i> and <i>second circle</i>, with smaller players, politicians, and common-born tangentials as part of the third circle and lower. No Court Mage has ever entered the first circle, incidentally… save for Lady Sibella de Vespe, perhaps." <<include 'cynsterexplanation'>>

Honoria smirks. "A silver-tongued diplomat, I see," she says in her low, sultry voice. "Just like all the rest." She casts another faintly-contemptuous glance at the rest of the courtyard. Is it just you, or are the people standing nearest to you trying very hard not to look in your direction? Shifting her weight so that her shoulder leans up against her pillar, she glances away from you and says, "Once upon a time, before the Castigation, my forefather served as chief physician to the first Autarch—before that man had claimed the throne, even. The Autarch trusted my forebear with his life, and as a result, our line has served theirs ever since, ministering to them in a medical capacity. My father is the royal physicker, and tended both to the late Autarch in her final days and monitors the Golden One's health now." Glancing back at you, she smiles slightly and continues, "So we are not quite the blue-blooded nobles you see around us today: we <i>work</i> for a living, and though we hold a minor title and land as a result of our service, that fact alone sets us apart from the barons and dukes and coronets of the Sun Court. We're closer to the Court Mages, some of whom also hold titles and land, but who don't quite have the freedoms or influence of the politicians and major players of the court. The nobles of the Sun Court refer to this distinction as <i>first circle</i> and <i>second circle</i>, with smaller players, politicians, and common-born tangentials as part of the third circle and lower. No Court Mage has ever entered the first circle, incidentally… save for Lady Sibella de Vespe, perhaps." <<include 'cynsterexplanation'>>

She has a sly look on her face as she says the name, clearly watching your countenance for any change in expression. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $cunning >= 50 and $intelligence >= 55 and $charisma >= 45>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Ignore the bait for now. "Your being a part of the second circle can't be the reason why everyone seems to be avoiding you, though."</div>' 'autogenerated_686253'>><<setcunning +1>><<setintelligence +1>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>><</if>> <<if $cunning < 50 or $intelligence < 55 or $charisma < 45>><div class="inactive-item">Ignore the bait for now. "Your being a part of the second circle can't be the reason why everyone seems to be avoiding you, though."</div><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Confront her directly. "Why do you bring up Sibella de Vespe?"</div>' 'devespeconfrontation'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Honoria actually laughs, the sound low and deep-throated. "Well, it is perhaps a more complicated picture than that," she concedes, lowering her lashes to half-mast. She turns her head to glance amusedly at the other partygoers again. "Do you know what the royal physicker's chief duty to the Autarch is?" "To protect him from fever and ague?" Honoria grins at you. "No, of course not. It's to protect him from <i>poison</i>." <<nobr>><<if $cunning >= 65>> At your raised brow, she laughs again. <<else>> At your startled look, she laughs again. <</if>><</nobr>> "Come now, surely you can see how the greatest threat to the Autarch's wellbeing is an assassination attempt? Our divine ruler has <i>many</i> enemies, and before the Court Mages and the Ket sentries, the ones in charge of his defense were his royal guard, his Inquisitors, and his personal physicians. The royal guard defended the palace, of course, and the Inquisitors eliminated sedition and heresy abroad, but for the threats <i>within</i> the palace… it was up to my ancestor—and all the ones who came after him—to monitor the Autarch's personal condition, take charge of the tasting of his food, and guard him against all manner of both disease and toxin." She pauses significantly. "That means, of course, that <i>all</i> Cynsters are trained in the understanding of poisons and other apothecary arts. You could say it's our particular craft, the same as how Enchantment is the De Vespes'." "I imagine you have a large family," you say carefully, catching on to what she means. "So even if your father is the Autarch's sole doctor…" "…What do the rest of us do with this very specialized field of knowledge?" Honoria Cynster purrs. "Yes, that is the question indeed." <<include 'cynsterthreat'>>

Honoria smiles, almost pityingly, as if you're making things too easy for her. "Bear with me for a moment," she drawls. "Do you know what the royal physicker's chief duty to the Autarch is?" "To protect him from fever and ague?" Honoria grins at you. "No, of course not. It's to protect him from <i>poison</i>." <<nobr>><<if $cunning >= 65>> At your raised brow, she laughs again. <<else>> At your startled look, she laughs again. <</if>><</nobr>> "Come now, surely you can see how the greatest threat to the Autarch's wellbeing is an assassination attempt? Our divine ruler has <i>many</i> enemies, and before the Court Mages and the Ket sentries, the ones in charge of his defense were his royal guard, his Inquisitors, and his personal physician. The royal guard defended the palace, of course, and the Inquisitors eliminated sedition and heresy abroad, but for the threats <i>within</i> the palace… it was up to my ancestor—and all the ones who came after him—to monitor the Autarch's personal condition, take charge of the tasting of his food, and guard him against all manner of both disease and poison." She pauses significantly. "That means, of course, that <i>all</i> Cynsters are trained in the understanding of poisons and other apothecary arts. You could say it's our particular craft, the same as how Enchantment is the De Vespes'." "I imagine you have a large family," you say carefully, catching on to what she means. "So even if your father is the Autarch's sole doctor…" "…What do the rest of us do with this very specialized field of knowledge?" Honoria Cynster purrs. "Yes, that is the question indeed." <<include "cynsterthreat">>

Having gained some familiarity with the Sun Court and its machinations by now, you can imagine exactly what uses the Cynsters could be put to. Some of their clan would be dedicated to the Autarch's defense, yes. But if they know how to <i>protect</i> someone from poison, they also know a thousand ways to poison <i>others</i>, particularly in ways that are undetectable and lethally advanced. You imagine that awareness of this knowledge—of the Cynsters' particular skillset—would make them valuable to the Autarch in more ways than one: he probably employs them to poison his enemies, or at least keep others in line with the implicit threat of being able to do so, and in that sense they're probably closer to spies and specialized assassins than they are to regular nobles or even royal apothecaries. That's most likely why everyone at this party seems so terrified of drawing Honoria's gaze. But then why is she telling you all of this? Honoria smiles at the question in your eyes. "I tell you this," she says lightly, seemingly reading your mind, "so that you are not too alarmed when I tell you that I have a guess as to what you're up to. Sibella de Vespe has finally shown her jealousy of you, no? And she summoned you here today to make some threat or maneuver to seize control of you. If she has you under her thumb, you're no threat to her or her position, which she guards as covetously as a wife scheming over a husband with a wandering eye." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $cunning >= 70 and $charisma >= 65>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Keep your face blank and give nothing away. "That's an interesting guess."</div>' 'autogenerated_686254'>><<setcunning +1>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>><</if>> <<if $cunning < 70 or $charisma < 65>><div class="inactive-item">Keep your face blank and give nothing away. "That's an interesting guess."</div><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Be honest with her. "Yes, you've got it pretty much exactly right."</div>' 'autogenerated_686255'>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setcourage +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Hem and haw. "Um... I can neither confirm nor deny... that."</div>' 'autogenerated_686256'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Honoria smiles even wider. "Isn't it?" she asks sweetly, her eyes glittering with that strange light again. <<include 'honoriaproposal'>>

Honoria smiles again, obviously pleased by your show of trust. "Of course I have. It's my profession, after all." <<include 'honoriaproposal'>>

Honoria laughs again, genuine delight in her voice as she coos, "How precious you are! You're a regular little provincial!" <<include 'honoriaproposal'>>

Then she leans closer, so that you smell the dizzyingly-sweet scent on her clothes: something like rosehip, cinnamon, wild hazel oil, and camphor. "How <i>badly</i> do you want to bring Sibella de Vespe down?" she asks you, too quietly for anyone else to hear. "I can see from all your running around, trying to curry favor and allies, that it's quite important for you to see her eliminated. But…" She trails off meaningfully for a moment. "How much easier would it be if she were to gradually—or rapidly—fall ill? If she were to be suddenly beset by headaches and migraines that made it impossible for her to work her magic, if she were to retire from her public position because she was too tired to leave her bed and hold the necessary meetings… and then if she were to suddenly pass away of some latent illness? Liver dysfunction, perhaps, a bad case of jaundice, some genetic defect…" You watch her for a moment. Honoria seems perfectly serious, though a small smile still plays around her lips. <<include "cynstersbargain">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"No. I want her defanged, not dead."</div>' 'autogenerated_686257'>><<setcompassionate +2>><<setloyal +2>><<setriel +1>><<setlavinet +1>><<setbriony +1>><</link>> <<if not hasVisited("suspentstesting")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Wouldn't the authorities suspect poisoning, though? If <i>you</i> know I have qualms with her, I'd be the first person they looked at."</div>' 'suspentstesting'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("suspentstesting2")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Aren't there magical protections against that kind of thing? Doesn't she have her food tested?"</div>' 'suspentstesting2'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("suspenstprice")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Even if this was something that would benefit me, it would surely come at a price."</div>' 'suspenstprice'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("suspenstautarch") and $cunning >= 70>><<link '<div class="question-item">"The Autarch surely wouldn't be pleased to find out you were using your education to eliminate his own ministers and favorites."</div>' 'suspenstautarch'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("suspenstpetition")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"There are other ways to get rid of De Vespe. You could add your name to my petition."</div>' 'suspenstpetition'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("suspenststrust") and $cunning >= 70>><<link '<div class="question-item">"How do I know I can trust you?"</div>' 'suspenststrust'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>><</if>> <<if $cunning >= 85 and $intelligence >= 65 and $charisma >= 50 and $loyal >= 55>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'll thank you not to broach such a disgusting topic with me again, 'Honor' Cynster. The fact that you would think that I, an officer of the law, would support poisoning someone is beyond the pale."</div>' 'autogenerated_686258'>><<setcunning +3>><<setintelligence +3>><<setcharisma +1>><<setloyal +1>><<setreputation +1>><</link>><</if>> <<if $cunning >= 85 and $intelligence >= 65 and $courage >= 65>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Sorry. I might have been interested, but I just don't trust you."</div>' 'autogenerated_686259'>><<setcunning +3>><<setintelligence +3>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Yes. If you could help me out with your solution to this problem, I would be very grateful."</div>' 'autogenerated_686260'>><<set $sibellapoisoned to true>><<setcompassionate -12>><<setcunning +5>><<setloyal -8>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Honoria sighs heavily and dramatically; the touch of warmth that brushes your face smells of eucalyptus, as if she's been chewing some kind of medicinal leaf. "Ah. Well, I can't say I didn't offer." Tipping her hat to you, she saunters away, the crowds in the courtyard parting before her subtly, like shoals of fish around a shark. You watch her go for a moment before, shaking your head, you turn back to your work and the rest of the party. <<include 'suncourtiermissiongo'>>

Honoria laughs, seemingly delighted by your change in tone, and the light in her blue-gray eyes looks a little mad. She sweeps a courteous bow and says in a dramatic, theatrical voice: "<i>Do</i> forgive me, <<c rank>> <<c surname>>. I must have misread the situation." "Badly," you tell her stiffly. And then, with the eyes of the watching courtiers on you both, you turn your back on her and walk proudly away. <<include 'suncourtiermissiongo'>>

Honoria laughs, seemingly delighted by your change in tone, and the light in her blue-gray eyes looks a little mad. She sweeps a courteous bow and says, "I suppose that's understandable. No hard feelings, then." You nod, swallowing your uneasiness at the dancing glint in her blue-gray eyes, and turn your back to walk away. Honoria Cynster's gaze seems to pin you down as you make your way all the way to the other end of the courtyard… but when you turn around again, she no longer occupies that place in the shadows. It's almost as if she was never there at all. <<include 'suncourtiermissiongo'>>

Honoria smiles, and the light in her blue-gray eyes looks viciously pleased, hungry—almost a little mad. She sweeps a courteous bow and murmurs, "It will be done." Then she glances around and notes, "And now, I think, it would be prudent for us to part ways. But rest easy." She rests a gloved hand lightly on your upper arm before she pads away. "You won't have to work so very hard at this party for any longer. By this time tomorrow, Sibella de Vespe won't be in any position to trouble you—or me—ever again." She strolls away, the crowds subtly parting for her like shoals of fish before a shark. After a moment of watching her melt away into the gathering, you turn back to your work with your pulse thrumming excitedly in your throat. You're not completely sure if Honoria Cynster will come through with poisoning the High Court Mystic, but it seems like a useful insurance policy just in case your own mission doesn't work. <<include 'suncourtiermissiongo'>>

Honoria arches her brows significantly. "Why would they," she asks with mock-innocence, "if the royal physician or the coroner declares her death the result of an obscure disease? Without a medical professional's say-so, there would be no inquest, and no reason to suspect poison. And I'm related to all of the medical professionals who would look at her." <<include "cynstersbargain">>

"All magical protections apply to the Autarch and his heirs alone," Honoria replies promptly. "As for having her food tested… whose family do you think is in charge of that?" <<include "cynstersbargain">>

"Hmm, perhaps so," Honoria says with a certain playful trill in her voice. "A court apothecary is a useful friend to have… but so is a Mage outside the court, as well as the Hero of Haven <<print $them>>self. If you'd like me to do this for you, you would owe <i>me</i> a favor down the road." "What kind of favor?" you ask her warily. <i>And how do I know it would stop at just the one?</i> Honoria shrugs. "I don't have a particular need of anything for now, so I couldn't tell you. It just seems like a handy thing to have down the line." You watch her for a moment, and Honoria stares back at you with cool amusement. You almost believe her… <<nobr>><<if $cunning >= 65>> And besides, it's not like she could blackmail you for much down the line. If she were to go through with this, <i>she</i> would be far more complicit in Sibella's demise than you would be. You could easily turn things around on her if she were to threaten you in any way. <i>'Yes, I engaged in hypothetical discussion with her, but I never expected Honoria to actually do it!'</i> <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "cynstersbargain">>

"No, he wouldn't," Honoria answers with a laugh, "but that's only if he were to ever find out." At your look, she tosses her head with a sigh and adds, "The Cynsters are no great fans of the De Vespes, let me just say. It's within our family's best interests to remain trusted servants and advisors to the Autarch. But the De Vespes have longed to occupy our position for quite some time, vying to serve the Autarch the way our family does, making themselves useful to him in similar ways. I quite mislike Sibella's sudden rise in the Autarch's estimation, though I've been careful not to show it. So it benefits me, too, if she were to experience a swift and sudden fall from grace." She makes an elegant cutting gesture with her gloved hand. <<nobr>><<if $courage < 75>> For some reason, you wince as if she'd pierced you. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "cynstersbargain">>

Honoria shakes her head. "Absolutely not," she says swiftly. "I can't be seen openly participating in court politics or picking favorites of my own accord. Our family is second circle for a reason: the Autarch feels he has us thoroughly under his thumb. If I were to show any kind of ambition or autonomy at all, we would no longer seem like his trusted medical advisors, and things would turn against us very quickly." She shakes her head emphatically. "No. It's my way or none at all." <<include "cynstersbargain">>

Honoria smiles. "I suppose you don't," she says lightly, "but if you really want to get rid of De Vespe, you'll have to decide: who's more dangerous to you, me or her?" A court apothecary with the power to poison people and unknown motives, or the High Court Mystic, a powerful Enchanter with the power to mentally enslave others without their knowing, as well as active blackmail material against you and your friends?… <<include "cynstersbargain">>

<<set $metkeph to true>>There's a diffident-looking Court Mage standing off to the side, picking over a plate of hors d'oeuvres as he watches the proceedings with an expression of only mild interest. He's of average height, with a pair of golden spectacles, plain gold robes, and short-cropped rose-gold hair. When he turns to you expectantly—as if he expected you to make your way over to him all along—you see that he has a pair of sleepy teal eyes, their depths bright with the <i>iladrin</i>. <<nobr>><<if $haircolor is "rose-gold" or $eyecolor is "turquoise">> <br><br> The sight almost causes you to pause in your tracks. He could be a relative of yours, <<if $haircolor is "rose-gold">> with that hair. <<else>> with those eyes. <</if>> You have to repress a strange shiver at the thought. <</if>><</nobr>> You both give each other polite bows, though you can't help but feel a bit awkward in this man's presence. You've known of the existence of Court Mages all your life, but actually talking to one—to one of your people, but with such a vastly different experience and perspective in life that he might as well be an alien masquerading in a more familiar guise—throws you a little off-balance. He's not like any other Mage you've ever met or spoken to, by sheer dint of the fact that he has not lived the life of a post-Castigation Mage. He's never lived in fear of his life from the Inquisitors, never gone through the anxious adolescence of someone who had to hide the emergence of their powers from their neighbors or friends out of fear of being excluded as some kind of threat. He's had all the access to his magic, resources, and education that he could want; you're told that many of the most valuable spellbooks confiscated during the war are reserved for and used by the Autarch's Court Mages, making them some of the most powerful and knowledgeable magic-users in the world today. But neither is he anything like the Mages you encountered from Senua and Archmage Tangriel's time. He's grown up in the Sun Court. He's willingly (or unwillingly) served the Autarch all his life, hardly ever allowed to leave these glittering palace walls. It's such a different life from the one you've led—luxury versus survival, freedom of travel versus isolation—that you can't even begin to imagine how you could bridge the gap. But if the Court Mage notices that air of <i>difference</i> between you—the weighted, meaningful pause as you take each other in—he doesn't give much sign. He only smiles easily and introduces himself as Kephavril Anumarim, or Keph for short. You murmur your own introductions, and Keph gives you a bright, interested glance. <<nobr>><<if $specialization is "battle">> "Duelki? I suppose it makes sense for the Hero of Haven to be a Battle-Mage, though I confess I'd hoped for something… a little less stereotypical." <<elseif $specialization is "wild">> "Fera? I wouldn't have expected the Hero of Haven to be a Wild Mage, of all things." <<elseif $specialization is "healer">> "Elae? I wouldn't have expected the Hero of Haven to be a Healer, of all things." <<elseif $specialization is "enchanter">> "Dulcetis? I wouldn't have expected the Hero of Haven to be a Enchanter, of all things, but I suppose it makes sense." <<elseif $specialization is "diviner">> "Argentis? I wouldn't have expected the Hero of Haven to be a Diviner, of all things." <<elseif $specialization is "elementalist">> "Aetherai? I suppose the tales <i>do</i> make you out to be a force of nature, but I hadn't heard you were an Elementalist." <<elseif $specialization is "binder">> "Astrigai? I wouldn't have expected the Hero of Haven to be a Binder, of all things." <<elseif $specialization is "shifter">> "Mutai? I wouldn't have expected the Hero of Haven to be a Shifter, of all things. <<else>> "Obsidai? I suppose it makes sense, but for some reason I wasn't expecting you to be a Conjurer." <</if>><</nobr>> You glance at him, surprised, but Kephavril maintains his mild, friendly expression. You squint at him, feeling around hazily with your magic, and hazard a guess. <<nobr>><<if $intelligence >= 70 and $magic >= 70>> "And you're a… Binder?" <br><br> <<if $specialization is "binder">> Keph smiles at you, clearly impressed. "Exactly so, just like you. Many who dwell in these halls walk the <i>astrigai</i> path." <<else>> Keph smiles at you, clearly impressed. "Exactly so. Many who dwell in these halls walk the <i>astrigai</i> path." <</if>> <<else>> "And you're a… Diviner?" <br><br> Keph smiles pleasantly, though apologetically. "Not quite. I'm a mere Binder, just like many who walk these halls." <</if>><</nobr>> You nod slowly. "And what is it that you do here?" He makes an airy gesture, then returns his hand to his plate to pop another tiny cheese tart into his mouth. "I'm primarily a researcher," he says modestly, dabbing his lips politely with a cloth napkin. "I spend most of my time experimenting and researching ways to protect the palace and this district better, as well as helping to maintain the existing wards and reinforcing them against natural degradation. Speaking of which, I've heard that the Shepherds have a fascinating array of wards and spells protecting your own compound. Do you have a contingent of people continually strengthening them as well? I've always been curious about how it works, but as you can imagine, we don't get access to people with the necessary insight here that often." His interest seems purely academic, and his expression is innocent as he says it. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Avoid answering directly. "Unfortunately, I wouldn't know much about it... It's not part of my job."</div>' 'autogenerated_686261'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Look at him suspiciously. After the incident with Sibella's cursed package, you're reluctant to trust anybody with this information. "That's classified information."</div>' 'autogenerated_686262'>><<setcompassionate -1>><<setcunning +1>><<setloyal -1>><<set $keph -= 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Tell him what you know. "We do have a host of Mages layering in their own protections as well as working with the existing ones, but the old wards are old magic, and hard to completely untangle. Still, we've made it work."</div>' 'autogenerated_686263'>><<setintelligence +1>><<setmagic +1>><<setarcane +1>><<setcunning -1>><<setloyal +1>><<setcompassionate +1>><<set $keph += 1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $charisma >= 75>> <<setcharisma +1>> <</if>> <<if $rank is "Commander">> <<set $keph -= 1>> Keph raises his brows and looks at you sidelong. "Oh, I thought that, as a commander, you'd be briefed on the details," he says, still with that mild tone. "Never mind, then." <<else>> Keph raises his brows at you, as if he doesn't believe you, but apparently he's too polite to outright say so, because he simply changes the subject and moves on. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'kephconversation'>>

Keph immediately gives a subservient dip of his chin—not quite a bow—that irks you in its meekness, for some reason. "My apologies," he murmurs. "I didn't mean to pry." <<include 'kephconversation'>>

Keph listens with attentive interest as you describe some of the advantages and complications of integrating with the Tower's existing defense system, seemingly appreciative of your own knowledge and attention to detail. <<include 'kephconversation'>>

You make harmless small-talk for a while before trailing off into semi-comfortable silence, standing side-by-side as you gaze out at the other party-goers, Kephavril still grazing on his snacks with placid imperturbability. <<include "talktokephavril">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("kephcourtmagelife")>><<link '<div class="question-item">Ask him what life is really like as a Court Mage.</div>' 'kephcourtmagelife'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("kephwards")>><<link '<div class="question-item">Ask him about the wards and spells protecting the Sun Court.</div>' 'kephwards'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("kephsibella")>><<link '<div class="question-item">Ask him what he knows about Sibella de Vespe.</div>' 'kephsibella'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("kephcroelle") and $keph >= 2>><<link '<div class="question-item">Ask him about Croelle.</div>' 'kephcroelle'>><<set $croelleclue += 1>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Before you can ask him anything more, a young woman approaches to take his arm.</div>' 'autogenerated_686264'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"Keph?" A young woman with a black dress and sheet-straight, deep indigo hair approaches, her golden lamp-like eyes darting between you and Kephavril as she gives you a hesitant bow. Kephavril introduces her as his dear friend Tamoë Lacustre, though by the way she somewhat possessively takes his hand when she comes to stand at his side, you'd guess their relationship goes deeper than mere friendship. Tamoë grants you a supremely skeptical, suspicious glance once she ascertains exactly who you are, and it's not even a minute later that she comes up with a firm excuse to bodily drag Kephavril away from you, beating a hasty retreat from the party as if she's afraid you'll start chasing after her, barking and foaming at the mouth. Keph only has time to grant you one last glance—apologetic, wondering, curious—before the two of them disappear completely from your sight. <<include 'suncourtiermissiongo'>>

Kephavril looks at you curiously, swallows his food, and says quietly, "I'm not sure what you want me to say." You glance at him, raising your eyebrows. "The truth, I suppose. Everyone on the Continent has heard about the Autarch's Court Mages, the only people still authorized to use magic freely…" "Other than the Shepherds." "…but no one on the outside knows what it's like in here. Is it…" <i>A good life? Are you tortured servants, held hostage to the whims and perversions of the Sun Courtiers? Or are you accomplices, willing sycophants and power-seekers like Sibella de Vespe?</i> After another pause, Kephavril says carefully, gesturing towards the crowd as if you're discussing various personages and engaging in typical court gossip: "It's a normal enough life, I suppose, like that of any other court scholar, scribe, or secretary. We occupy our own quarters here in the Sun Court; some pure-blood landed families even own their own private houses and estates. We are not quite servants, not quite politicians or true courtiers. Everyone knows that we're invaluable to the Autarch, and vital to the operations of the Dawn Palace, so they generally leave us to our own devices. I think most would say it's a prosperous, leisurely kind of life. All of our needs are looked after, and we're not forced to toil away in workshops or anything like that." "So the nobles treat you well?" you ask, remembering the horror stories you've heard of Sun Courtiers playing twisted games with palace servants and subordinates. Given the fear and derision that many in the outside world treat Diminished with, you'd think that kind of treatment would have come down even harder on trapped palace Mages. Keph shifts, a slight grimace on his face, as he answers, "They are… used to us. All of us have grown up alongside them, having been born here, so to most, we're just another part of the palace, generally as unremarkable as any of the guards or footmen. It's still generally within our best interests to keep out of their way, to avoid drawing attention to ourselves, but we're not particularly targeted. Some of the younger nobles sometimes even befriend us, and know us by name. There are a few friendships forged in childhood here. Because they're exposed to us and our magic in their youth, the nobles are not as resistant to the Gift as I've heard the people are… <i>out there</i>." He tips his head towards the direction of the rest of the city, clearing his throat. "There is even room for ambition here, should any Mage be brave enough to show it. Some notable Mages can make an actual name for themselves. So I wouldn't say we're… particularly persecuted." Still, there's some hidden weight to his words when he says this; his eyes seem to be communicating some more urgent message to you than what his light, careless tone implies. Is he subtly referring to Sibella de Vespe, or something else? <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You said that you're all born here. Does anyone ever try to leave?"</div>' 'kephleaving'>><<set $keph += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Why do you serve the Autarch's family so... meekly? The very people who destroyed and oppressed our people? Are the spellbooks and luxury really worth it?"</div>' 'kephmeekly'>><<set $keph -= 1>><<setcourage +1>><<setcompassionate -1>><<setloyal -1>><<setcharisma -1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Keph shoots you a look that's sharper and keener than any he's given you thus far. Still keeping his voice at an even timbre, he replies carefully, with the delicacy of a man feeling his way across a brittle frozen lake: "We all know the alternative that awaits us outside of these walls. I mean you no offense, of course, but few of us would choose to try and leave this place for a life of oppression, fear, and poverty. We have everything we could need here. Why would we want to leave?" You turn to look at him for a long, long moment. "I don't believe you," you tell him. Now it's your turn to keep your tone mild. "You've never wondered what it was like outside of these walls? Have you ever even seen a forest, or a lake, or a mountain or a beach? Have you ever danced in a town square during a festival, or decided to ride to another city on nothing but sheer impulse, or watched a herd of deer pass by your camp while you cooked something over a fire?" Kephavril's heavy silence tells you all that you need to know. Looking at him, you drop your voice and continue quietly, "I'm told that most of you are descendants of the first Mages who came here to serve the Autarch. Some are even more recent captives or prisoners of war. There is absolutely no way all of you are content with your lives here. You're just not given much of a choice to do anything about it… so you tell yourselves it's not a bad life. Am I right?" After another long moment, Kephavril abruptly looks away from you, blowing out a long breath. Speaking so softly that you nearly can't hear him, he murmurs, "…For the most part. There are <i>some</i> who try to escape." "What happens to them?" Keph glances at you, his face sober and his eyes entirely different now, flinty and grave. "A few die in the attempt," he admits. "But most are returned here to continue their service. Except they are, of course, changed." When you glance at him for more details, all he does is tap his blank forehead. Understanding dawns: you remember Croelle telling you about how Leashed Mages have crescent marks on their brows, and the earlier Shackled ones had dots. And he'd said about half of the Mage population here is marked in that way, stripped of their free will and used only as shells for their powers… "They're Leashed or Shackled." Keph neither confirms nor denies this; he only turns away, sipping at his drink as if troubled and dismayed by this change in topic. <<include "talktokephavril">>

Kephavril turns to you abruptly, and the look on his face almost makes you take a step back. It's such a change from his mild, unobtrusive expression: now he looks like he wants to laugh, but his features are so bitter and full of frustrated emotion that it actually hurts to look at. "Do you really think I have a choice, <i>lehem</i>?" he asks softly, using an old Magid word for 'cousin' or 'kinsman'—you've never heard it spoken and have only seen it appear in archaic plays and novels. "Do you think that, when my mother and father had me—they themselves born here—someone held me up and <i>asked</i> me if this was the life I wanted to live? Do you think I would have willingly chosen a life where I wasn't allowed to leave this tier of the city without supervision? To never know what a forest or the ocean looks like, except in books?" He turns away from you, his jaw abruptly tightening as if he wants to swallow back the rest of his words. You say slowly, "You weren't given a choice in being born here, but that doesn't mean you have to actively serve or help them." Kephavril quirks a brow at you, clearly irritated now. "What's the alternative? To refuse an education and never learn how to use my powers out of sheer stubbornness? Who would that help? Or would you suggest I refuse meals, go on a hunger strike, and die of starvation rather than do what everybody else does and serve?" "You could try to leave. Haven't others tried to escape?" He glances at you again, suddenly wary. "A few have tried, and died in the attempt," he says after a moment, his voice slow and heavy and cautious. "But most are returned here to continue their service. Except they are, of course, changed." When you glance at him for more details, all he does is tap his blank forehead. Understanding dawns: you remember Croelle telling you about how Leashed Mages have crescent marks on their brows, and the earlier Shackled ones had dots. And he'd said about half of the Mage population here is marked in that way, stripped of their free will and used only as shells for their powers… "They're Leashed or Shackled." Keph neither confirms nor denies this; he only turns away, sipping at his drink as if troubled and dismayed by this change in topic. <<include "talktokephavril">>

<<nobr>><<if $keph >= 2>> Kephavril flicks you a curious sidelong glance… but then he dips his head and murmurs, "I suppose you're only asking out of pure academic curiosity?" <br><br> You incline your own head. "You could say that." <br><br> His lips quirk slightly, as if laughing at his own private joke, before he replies, "Well, I suppose we're comrades-in-arms, of a sort… We serve the same authority, after all, so there wouldn't be any harm in sharing the details. I suppose you want to know how the magical protections work?" <br><br> You nod, and although Kephavril warns you that he's sworn to secrecy regarding the personal, top-secret protections on the Autarch and various heads of state, he does give you various useful details on the district that are clearly not public information. <br><br> "The main protections are on the Dawn Palace and some of the official government buildings," he tells you. "Once you cross the threshold of those places, use of any magic is dampened and strictly monitored. If you were to attempt to use an unauthorized spell in one of those places, for example, dozens of Mages would know at once, and several safeguards and automatic spells would converge upon you instantly." <br><br> You nod slowly; you'd sensed as much when you entered the Hall of Concordance earlier. "But magic isn't outright <i>negated</i>, is it? Only suppressed?" <br><br> He shakes his head. "No, primarily because there would be no way to do that while allowing the magic of the defending side—the Court Mages—to function as it should. And the safeguards that are in place are sufficient, in any case." There's a slightly ominous tone to his voice as he says it, but when you glance at him for more information, he says nothing further. <br><br> "Are there ways to detect those with ill intentions towards the Autarch?" you ask. <br><br> Keph gives you a look of surprise. "I'd heard you Shepherds had something like that," he murmurs. "But no—whatever magic that is, it belongs to Tangriel and Saenreth's time. Our own forebears never were able to devise anything similar in nature, though there are other… workarounds… present. Inquisitors, for example, wear talismans to guard against magical interference or psionic manipulation, and many Court Mages, Lady De Vespe included, are skilled at scanning the minds of particular visitors for their true intentions, if they are called upon by the Autarch to do so." <br><br> "And do other places in this district have such stringent protections?" you ask. "Aside from the palace and the government buildings? Do your wards apply to the whole city tier?" <br><br> Kephavril tilts his head thoughtfully. "No, most spots are just like any other place in the city. The parks and avenues, the public assembly halls and courtyards—like this one—are all unwarded." He gestures vaguely to the party. "As you know, magic works best when it's concentrated and focused. Your Shepherd wards couldn't apply to all of Ashtown, could they? It would be chaos. In much the same way, we only layer such strict contingencies on the most important places here: the places that the Autarch spends his time, primarily. It's always been that way, ever since the first families came here to serve after the Castigation." <br><br> That sparks a thought in your mind. "What about the personal rooms of some of the courtiers here?" <br><br> Kephavril turns to give you a bland look of courteous interest. "Is there anyone in particular you're asking about?" he asks politely. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Sibella de Vespe. I might need to investigate her further."</div>' 'kephsibellaprotection'>><<set $keph += 1>><<set $knowsibellaprotection to true>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"No, no one. I'm just curious."</div>' 'autogenerated_686265'>><<set $keph -= 1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <<else>> Keph smiles at you faintly, a trace of gallows humor in the look. "I didn't know I was going to be asked to share such confidential information," he says, his tone both gentle and reproving. "And unlike you, if <i>I</i> speak out of turn, I may summarily find myself without a head. So I think I'll decline to answer that for now." <<include "talktokephavril">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Kephavril gives another short bow. "But of course." <<include 'talktokephavril'>>

"Ah," Keph says. He turns away from you to gaze calmly at the rest of the party, but you can see that the look in his teal eyes is calculating. After a moment, he smiles ruefully to himself, almost as if to say, <i>To Hael with it,</i> and admits, "On her public offices, there are a few standard protections—an alarm to alert the guards to the presence of an intruder, for example. But that applies to every office in the ministerial building: it's a blanket-wide ward on those grounds, after all. But on her personal quarters, which lie not far from here…" He tilts his head again. "…No. There are no magical protections on her rooms. However much status and influence she accrues, Lady De Vespe still doesn't merit a permanent residence in the Dawn Palace, nor those particular kinds of special protections, which are reserved for the Autarch's family and his most trusted, most indispensable advisors and favorites. Magic is a costly thing to use, after all, and even if it weren't…" He drops his voice to a murmur. "Even if it weren't, sometimes I think he withholds such power in order to send a political message. '<i>I trust you, but not <b>this</b> much, so you must still work to earn my regard and protection. Never forget who is <b>really</b> in control here. I can still leave you vulnerable if you don't fully please me.</i>' Something like that." You try to quell the spark of excitement in your gut. "But even if there isn't official court magic on her rooms or person, couldn't De Vespe create her own protections herself? She's a powerful Mage, too, after all." Keph shakes his head instantly. "That would be impossible," he says. "No Court Mage is allowed to ward their own personal quarters or belongings, and they're subject to Inquisitor inspection at any given time to ensure that sedition, treachery, secrets, or attempts to escape don't foment. They must rely on the Autarch's guards and protection, the same as any Sun Courtier, or not at all; they're forbidden from using their own independent methods, or otherwise they'd be given an unfair advantage over everyone else, and room for them to secretly accrue power would grow. All wards and spells are to be aimed at protecting the Autarch, and are in service to him alone. Self-serving magic isn't allowed and defeats the point of the existence of the Court Mages at all." You suppose that makes sense. It also makes what Sibella de Vespe is doing—threatening to use her geas against you without the Autarch knowing—doubly forbidden, but unfortunately, trying to bring evidence of that to him would likely expose your own secrets, which is why you need to find some other way to bring her down. <<nobr>><<if $darktomesibella is true>> Fortunately for you, it sounds like Croelle's people won't have any trouble at all in planting the dark tome in her room. Finding it during a routine inspection by the Inquisitors won't even seem that out of place, it sounds like. <<else>> Fortunately for you, it sounds like her rooms—which might hold a wealth of information—are unprotected, at least by official court magic. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "talktokephavril">>

<<set $freetheleashed to 0>>"I've known her all my life," Keph answers conversationally, his tone utterly devoid of any emotion other than standard pleasantry. "She's a few years older than I am, but for all intents and purposes, we grew up together, just as with many of the other Court Mages: there are probably forty or so in our age bracket alone. I've known her since she was a young girl." "How would you describe her back then?" you ask, curious despite yourself. Keph ruminates on that for a moment. "Ambitious," he admits. "Single-minded. Aloof, at times callous. She wasn't usually outright cruel or violent to most—she simply had no time for you if you weren't the sort of person who could help her achieve her goals. If you didn't measure up against her own private metrics and assessments, she simply didn't acknowledge you. You were either useful to her—and thereby in her good books—or you weren't. But she didn't bother tormenting the ones who weren't." The fact that the nicest thing he has to say about her is that she didn't <i>outright</i> torture anyone really makes you wonder about the environment these people grow up in. <<include "kephsibella1">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("kephsibellatortue")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Well, it seems she spends a lot of her time torturing people in the Chrysalis now, so I suppose childhood isn't a perfect blueprint for the future."</div>' 'kephsibellatortue'>><<setcourage +1>><<set $keph += 1>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("kephsibellainteract")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Did she ever interact with you personally?"</div>' 'kephsibellainteract'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("kephsibellafamily")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"What was her family like?"</div>' 'kephsibellafamily'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("kephsibellaallies")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Does she have any friends? Lovers? Notable allies?"</div>' 'kephsibellaallies'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("kephsibellacourtmages")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"How do the other Court Mages feel about her? She's in charge of you now, isn't she, as High Court Mystic?"</div>' 'kephsibellacourtmages'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("kephsibellainvestigate") and $darktomesibella is false>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Is there anything you can tell me about her that would help my investigation?"</div>' 'kephsibellainvestigate'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("kephsibellapetition")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Will you sign my petition against her?"</div>' 'kephsibellapetition'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("kephsibellageas") and $keph >= 2 and $courage >= 60 and $charisma >= 65>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Do you know what she <i>actually</i> does for the Autarch?"</div>' 'kephsibellageas'>><<set $freetheleashed += 1>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Ask him about something else.</div>' 'autogenerated_686266'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Keph looks at you expectantly. <<include 'talktokephavril'>>

Keph blinks, but he doesn't seem to know what to say to that. <<include "kephsibella1">>

He chuckles. "Not by choice, I don't think," he says ruefully. "For the most part, she disregarded me, though there were a few occasions where we had to socialize. At one point I was in a relationship with a second cousin of hers, so we sat at the same table at a few dinners. We danced exactly once, out of politeness, when I was twenty and she was twenty-four. But there was never any particular friendship nor enmity between us." <<include "kephsibella1">>

"She was an only child," Kephavril answers. "Which is rare, among Court Mages—we're encouraged to have large families. But her parents died when she was young, about ten or eleven. They fell out of favor with the previous Autarch—the whispers say they pushed too hard for their own initiatives, were too zealous and ambitious in their own bid for power, even at one point attempting to go over her head to approach young Enik Goldenson for his backing when the Autarch declined to implement their proposals—and, well, one thing led to another, and she iced them out. Shortly thereafter, both died by poisoning. The official story was that it was by their own hand, from the shame and indignity of their fall from grace, but… one can never know, of course." "How did Sibella take such a tragic event?" you ask. Keph shakes his head. "I was never close enough to her to say. She was taken into the care of her aunt and uncle, and she <i>seemed</i> largely unaffected, but… well. Such things are not as uncommon in the Sun Court as we'd like. Most of us develop a certain measure of… composure, at least when it comes to the public-facing side of things. But it certainly didn't stop her from carrying on their legacy and doing everything she could to befriend the current Autarch. They've been engaged in a kind of orbit at least since they were both teens, so she laid the foundation for their relationship early. And her use of Enchanting magic in his name has surpassed her parents' grand visions by tenfold." <<include "kephsibella1">>

Kephavril glances at you quickly, as if to gauge how much you know, before he says carefully, "Ever since she set her sights on becoming High Court Mystic—an initiative I think she's been pursuing for at least the last ten years—Lady De Vespe completely forewent any associations to her fellow Court Mages, except in matters of necessary alliance and negotiation. As far as I know, she keeps no true 'friends,' at least not among our people. I think she knew that once she achieved what she aimed for—a position that would give her dominion over the rest of us—she accepted that relationships with us would only get her so far, and that her time was better spent courting and currying the favor of the Sun Courtiers, whose ranks she aspired to join." "And among <i>them</i>, who would you say is her greatest benefactor?" you ask. "The Autarch, of course," Keph returns blandly. "Other than him, Lady De Vespe straddles a very fine line. She is no longer one of the Court Mages, and yet the Sun Courtiers are reluctant to accept and embrace her as one of their own. They must begrudgingly acknowledge her authority, as it's been granted by the divine will of the Golden One, but she <i>is</i> still Diminished, after all. So she doesn't fully occupy either category. I imagine it makes for a very lonely position." <<nobr>><<if $intelligence >= 55 and $cunning >= 55>> <br><br> <i>And it over-relies on the goodwill of the Autarch, a single man</i>, you think unsympathetically. <i>Would a woman like De Vespe bet all her marks on that? Or would she seek alliances from another quarter, at least as insurance?</i> <br><br> <i>And if so, from where?</i> <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "kephsibella1">>

Kephavril half-grimaces, half-smiles. "I confess, I'm unused to such an… honest manner of speaking," he murmurs, shifting his weight with an uncomfortable wince. "Yes, Lady De Vespe is nominally in charge of all magical operations within the Sun Court and, technically, the Autarchy, as the only sanctioned magic on the Continent takes place under government jurisdiction. I know that she's used that same reasoning to argue that she should have oversight of the Shepherds, as well, though the fact that your order is comprised of many other non-magical races and powers has tipped the scales in your favor thus far." Before you can interject, he adds, "As for how the other Court Mages feel about her rise to power, reactions have been predictably mixed. Like any group, we have our own sycophants and schemers… and we also have many people who are jealous of her, or resent her, or even outright despise her. I think the general consensus is that, for now, she's still merely a go-between between ourselves and the Autarch: not a wielder of <i>true</i> autonomous power and authority, but a proxy who saves him time. She must still run the important decisions by him for his approval, so she's not as all-powerful as the title might imply. But we are all aware that this dynamic could shift at any point. She's certainly doing everything in her power to make it so, anyway." <<include "kephsibella1">>

Keph sighs, though you can't tell if it's one of regret or annoyance at your prodding. "I am a humble researcher, <<c rank>> <<c surname>>," he tells you. "I try to stay out of court intrigue and politics as much as I can. I actively avoid placing myself in situations where I might learn something that would be, in general, dangerous to know. So, unfortunately, there isn't much I can tell you in that department." <<include "kephsibella1">>

Now his bright eyes open wide, and for the first time, the Court Mage looks positively alarmed by what you've said. His eyes darting around, he leans forward and says, "Even if I were willing, I could <i>never</i>. A Court Mage serves the Autarch, <<nobr>><<if $keph >= 2>> cousin. <<else>> <<c rank>>. <</if>><</nobr>> To participate in anything beyond that strict scope promises severe consequences. I could never take that risk." In other words, he can't risk drawing attention to himself by publicly putting his name on your petition. And besides, if your bid fails, Sibella de Vespe is Kephavril's direct superior now: he could no less move openly against her than you could move against the Autarch. It makes sense, but you still had to ask. <<include "kephsibella1">>

For a long moment, Kephavril watches you, his eyes searching, and some undercurrent of meaning seems to pass between the two of you, invisible but as palpable as the shimmer of heat from scorched pavement. His face, viewed from this angle at quarter-turn, accentuates his long, thin nose, his polished gold spectacles half-shrouding his eyes through their reflection of light. For the first time, you notice an emerald ear-drop dangling from his left ear. After a significant silence, Keph says softly, "She serves him as High Court Mystic, of course." "But do you know what she did to get there?" you press, following your intuitive sense that he does. "Do you know her role in Shackling and Leashing the Diminished servants here? I suppose you must. Maybe you even know some of the Mages she's done it to. Did you know she developed her methods by torturing captives and escapees in the Chrysalis? Or that she has a new technique—this geas, as one calls it?" Instantly, Keph's hand comes up to press warningly, but lightly, against your forearm. His grip is soft and scholarly, nothing like the working callouses of the Mages in the Order. He's never held a weapon in his life, you can tell. You feel the gentlest, most tentative brush of his thoughts against yours—imparting a sensation that reminds you of white tea and baby's breath—before you open up your mind and hear his mental voice passing into your thoughts like water. <i>Careful, <<c rank>>,</i> he tells you. <i>The eyes and the ears of the Sun Court are everywhere. You need to be very, very careful about what you say out loud. </i> You nod, and he smiles and releases you, turning back to the party to beckon towards a topiary and launch into some harmless chatter about the Autarch's famous gardeners. All the while, however, he whispers to you: <i>I know about the Leashing, of course. It's the single greatest source of pain for the Mages who live here: we've had to watch friends, family members, and lovers return to us, utterly changed by what <i><b>she</b></i> did to them. We have to watch every day as our most respected mentors or companions debase themselves, reduced to mindless, smiling slaves and automatons who serve the Sun Courtiers like lapdogs. I live in fear of having that done to me every day of my life.</i> <i>Can anything be done to free them from the spell?</i> you ask. He smiles tightly, gesturing now towards a fountain. <i>If there is a way, none of us have found it. When Sibella's parents were killed, the existing Shackled were unaffected. The Autarch maintains total control over them, so my guess is that his death or his command is the only thing that could free them… if they can be freed at all. For all we know, the process may be totally permanent and irreversible. That likelihood seems more solidified by the day.</i> You feel his sharp spasm of pain and agony at the thought, ruthlessly suppressed, and wonder who he knows that's been Leashed. But you leave him that privacy and ask instead: <i>But when the old Autarch passed away…</i> <i>Nothing changed. I presume because control passed to her heir.</i> <i>But if Enik doesn't have an heir… There has to be some other locus of control, at least as a safeguard, no? If he were to die suddenly, what would happen to the Leashed and the Shackled if there was no heir to pass the spell on to? There has to be some kind of failsafe, which means there has to be some other additional method of tethering them outside of him.</i> <i>I don't know. I don't know.</i> <i>Do you know about the geas, too, then? This latest form of her magic?</i> <i>Of course I've heard of it. But until you mentioned it, I never had any proof it actually exists. The De Vespes have spent the last two hundred years perfecting and refining their techniques. Even now, people who have been Leashed or Shackled are <b><i>barely</i></b> detectable through magical means: their servitude and affect are self-evident to anyone who knows what to look for, but I doubt even an everyday Mage would be able to notice something was off with them solely through magical sense alone. And now there's this supposed geas, which doesn't change a person's behavior, personality, or demeanor at all, which <b><i>they</i></b> don't even know they've been infected with, <b><i>and</i></b> which is undetectable by magic or any other means to boot? I scarcely dared to believe it.</i> But he can see the tiny window into your mind that you've opened up for him; he sees your conversation with Croelle, the implicit threat that Sibella presented you with, the cursed package she sent to your compound. <i>Gods above. </i> He swallows. <b><i>If that's true, then anyone around me could…</i></b> You nod grimly, though you sense that your time is growing short. <i>Is there any way you've heard of to break it? Or if not, any way you can think of to free the Shackled captives?</i> Kephavril shakes his head slowly. <i>No</i>, he says softly—and you see the truth reverberating around the word like an aura. <i>If there was, I'd tell you.</i> Then he hesitates. <i>Though I have often wondered…</i> <i>Wondered what?</i> He shakes his head again. <i>The Autarch carries several priceless artifacts on his person</i>, he begins. <i>Several talismans and amulets to protect against poison, assassination by weapon, psionic attack; he even possesses a thoret artifact that can negate any form of the Gift, including magic, arma, or grace, dispelling it before it touches him. But there is one item I have never seen him wear, and yet I could swear it seems to have some powerful energies bound into it…</i> You feel your pulse pick up, though this could mean nothing. <i>What is it?</i> <i>His crown. The very symbol of his power, and yet he hardly wears it. If I were the De Vespes, and I wanted to be careful about where I could 'attach' the control of my family's spells, and in a way that didn't depend on a single living person, nor on an everyday object that could be lost or stolen… The Autarch's golden crown might be one of my considerations.</i> You nod slowly, feeling a little breathless with the implication of it all. <i>Where is the crown kept?</i> Whatever hope or inspiration Kephavril might have been feeling then instantly crumples as he realizes. <i>In the royal vaults. The most protected place on the Continent, save for the Autarch's private wing itself.</i> You sigh—you stand about as much chance as getting into the vaults as you do of getting into the Autarch's bathtub—but before you can ask him for any further details, a butler glides up to you both and smoothly holds out a platter of crab and spinach pastries. "May I fetch you another drink?" he asks with a deep, subservient bow. You and Keph draw instantly away from each other like two intimates having been caught <i>in flagrante</i>. "No, thank you," Kephavril murmurs, leaning away from you as if afraid of catching something contagious. "I should be leaving soon, anyway." Whether he's speaking to the departing butler or to you, it isn't clear, because now his eyes avoid yours with embarrassed determination. From the look on his face, he seems to be wondering what on earth he's gotten himself caught up into. <<include "kephsibella1">>

You're not quite sure what compels you to ask it; you suppose it's because most of the people you've encountered here so clearly have their own motives, ambitions, and secrets, reasons to help or harm you… but you don't feel that way about Kephavril, for some reason. He turns to you with a look of surprise, as if startled that you know Croelle's name… And for the first time, his teal eyes dart around the party with a look of genuine fear. He says very quietly, "You mean the High Inquisitor? You've met him?" You nod, not sure how much more than that you should say. Kephavril shakes his head wonderingly and continues, "That's… interesting. He doesn't really interact with others much, let alone tell them his name. Mostly he operates from behind the scenes, in the shadows, and lets the Grand Inquisitor—the position the Autarch used to occupy, of course—give the orders and take the public-facing side of things." Watching you with a shrewd expression, he continues slowly, "I confess I don't know much about him. Most people stay well away from him, though there are rumors that he could be the Autarch's Left Hand. He's watched over the Autarch since he was a child, after all." That gives you a start. "What? Croelle has?" Keph nods seriously. "Yes, I recall that the old captain of the guard mentioned that Croelle has been around the divine family since at least the time Lord Enik and Ornos were infants, though he could have been in their service for even longer. He comes and goes from the palace so often, acting on Inquisitorial business and seeing to their interests, that his presence has never been a constant here until Enik's ascension. But I'm told that he hasn't aged much, if at all, since those early days when the Autarch was still a child." You take a long moment to digest that, and all that it could mean. You think of Croelle's burning ochre eyes, the strange light within them, the inherent power with which he moves. His confidence in his abilities to recognize Sibella's magic, his assurance that she would never dare work her geas in front of him without his being able to tell what she was doing. Her subsequent fear of him. It seems utterly impossible, but… "Is he a Mage?" Kephavril makes the sign for <i>servori</i>, suggesting true ambivalence. "I have no idea. From what little I've seen of him, I would guess he has some Mage blood. But there's something else in him, too… But what that other part is, exactly, I couldn't say." You frown, thinking this over. The idea of someone with magic being second-in-command of the famous Inquisitors seems to be an impossible irony and hypocrisy… but if you really ponder the possibility, you can't really put it past the Autarchy. It would make some kind of twisted sense. Who better to help defend and advise the Inquisitors than one of the very people they're tasked with hunting? You ask slowly, "Can he be trusted?" Kephavril gives you an interested glance. "That depends on what you're doing, cousin," he says diplomatically. "As I said, Enik seems to favor him as his Left Hand. But I know the man doesn't seem particularly fond of the Autarch—he certainly doesn't waste time trying to curry favor with him—and he outright avoids his brother, or any company at all. If I had to hazard a guess, I would say he serves the Autarchy and Inquisition, at least for now… but he is most interested in looking out for himself. Whether that means he's trustworthy or not depends on your viewpoint and your own purposes." Then he shrugs again. "But I wouldn't take my word as gospel. I hardly know the man. No one does." <<include "talktokephavril">>

You find Briony talking to one of the Ket guards, a statuesque, imperial-faced woman attempting to make herself as inconspicuous as possible as she stands in the dappled shade of a hedgerow, observing the party with eyes that are both eerily blank yet still curiously vigilant and alert. The woman—tall and muscular, with cloudy blonde hair tied back in a tight ponytail and faded green eyes—remains totally impassive as Briony attempts to stand on her tiptoes and look into her eyes, pleading with her in urgent, increasingly desperate tones. <<nobr>><<if $heritage is "Ket">> From the woman's build and coloring, you'd guess she was either originally from Chicora or one of the provinces to the south, near Torsari or Damashi, and is probably of the Khehi caste. Something in your chest clenches as you note her resemblance to a young woman you considered a kind of big sister or older cousin to you when you lived in Drummond's Point. <</if>><</nobr>> "We'll find some way to help you, I <i>swear</i>," Briony is saying in a furious whisper, glancing at you only briefly as you draw up to her side. She seems shaken as she tries to make any sort of connection with the Ket guard, who has an black horizontal slash on her forehead, almost as if someone had drawn on her brow with their thumb and a daub of thick ink. <<nobr>><<if $thummasaved is true>> "There was a woman I knew—Thumma—whose mind was held captive, too, and no one thought it could be reversed. Only it <i>was</i>, and she's fine now, she's <i>healed</i>, so—" <<else>> "I know what it's like to—to be held captive, to be made a slave. But I got out, and so there <i>must</i> be a way to free you, too, and so—" <</if>><</nobr>> She stops talking abruptly, her voice tight and choked with coming tears. She glances at you again, and you see how her violet eyes spark with sorrow, pity, frustration, and appalled anger. Then she turns back to the woman and tries again: "So please. If there's anything you can tell me, anything that would <i>help</i> you…" The Ket woman gives her a single look—one of almost unseeing, blank indifference—before she turns her head to resume surveying the party again. Briony turns away with a noise of agonized revulsion. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $briony >= 70 and $compassionate >= 65 and $loyal >= 60>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Grab her hand and squeeze it in silent support. "It's okay. I feel it, too."</div>' 'autogenerated_686267'>><<setbriony +2>><<setcompassionate +1>><<set $brionyromanceflag += 1>><</link>><</if>> <<if $briony < 70 or $compassionate < 65 or $loyal < 60>><div class="inactive-item">Grab her hand and squeeze it in silent support. "It's okay. I feel it, too."</div><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Check in with her. "Are you okay?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686268'>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setcharisma +1>><<setbriony +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Tell her to control herself. "Get it together. Do not let these bastards see you cry."</div>' 'autogenerated_686269'>><<setcompassionate -1>><<setcharisma -1>><<setcourage +1>><<set $brionyromanceflag -= 3>><<setloyal -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Stick to business. "What's going on?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686270'>><<setintelligence +1>><<setloyal +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

You can't even begin to describe your own disgust at seeing this dainty little luncheon proceed, watched and guarded as it is by these silent prisoners. Briony turns back to you, her features tight but determined. She doesn't quite smile, only nods jerkily, but her warm hand clings onto yours as if you're a life raft in a storm. "I… I just wasn't expecting any of <i>this</i> when we came here today," she whispers to you, her eyes burning into yours. "Sun Courtiers, fine, poison and politics and lies and conspiracies—I understand all of that. But <i>this</i> is…" She glances up at the Ket guard's face, then looks away. "This is <i>sick</i>. They're our people, people just like us, and they've been shut up inside of this palace, their minds enslaved, all of this time…" <<include 'brionyamezuconversation'>>

"<i>No</i>," Briony whispers, angrily dashing tears out of her eyes. "I… I wasn't expecting any of <i>this</i> when we came here today. Sun Courtiers, fine, poison and politics and lies and conspiracies—I understand all of that. But <i>this</i> is…" She glances up at the Ket guard's face, then looks away. "This is <i>sick</i>. They're our people, people just like us, and they've been shut up inside of this palace, their minds enslaved, all of this time…" <<include 'brionyamezuconversation'>>

<<nobr>><<if $briony >= 75 and $brionyromanceflag < 11>> <<setbriony +1>> <<else>> <<setbriony -1>> <</if>><</nobr>>"I'm <i>not</i>," the pink-haired Mage whispers, angrily dashing tears out of her eyes. "I… I just wasn't expecting any of <i>this</i> when we came here today. Sun Courtiers, fine, poison and politics and lies and conspiracies—I understand all of that. But <i>this</i> is…" She glances up at the Ket guard's face, then looks away. "This is <i>sick</i>. They're our people, people just like us, and they've been shut up inside of this palace, their minds enslaved, all of this time…" <<include 'brionyamezuconversation'>>

Briony dashes angry tears out of her eyes. "I… I just wasn't expecting any of <i>this</i> when we came here today," she whispers to you, her eyes burning into yours. "Sun Courtiers, fine, poison and politics and lies and conspiracies—I understand all of that. But <i>this</i> is…" She glances up at the Ket guard's face, then looks away. "This is <i>sick</i>. They're our people, people just like us, and they've been shut up inside of this palace, their minds enslaved, all of this time…" <<include 'brionyamezuconversation'>>

She turns hopelessly back to the Ket guard, who is staring straight ahead, as silent and still as a statue, the smallest frown on her face as she stands with her hands folded smartly behind her back, looking for all the world like any other soldier at parade rest. "I've been trying to talk to her—they <i>can</i> talk, only I think they've been commanded or instructed not to talk about being Leashed or anything like that, and trying to press the issue only made her… go silent like this. Like some kind of shutdown, a dampening effect. I think it's sort of like—like the construct you found in the Vaults, you know? The simulacrum. They're commanded to obey the people of the Sun Court, even guests like us, but only to the extent that whatever you command doesn't interfere with their overarching… programming, or protocols, or whichever. Like if she's been instructed to do whatever it takes to protect the Autarch. You can ask her anything, even really personal stuff—and she'll answer—but only up until you ask for something that would violate the main command, like a secret that could lead to the Autarch's being endangered or the Leashing being revealed. Then the spell doesn't know what to do, because the commands for <i>obey</i> and <i>protect</i> are in conflict, so instead it just makes her… go quiet." From the guilty look on her face, she seems upset to have caused this condition in the Ket guard, even though the woman looks supremely unbothered by both your presence and being talked about in this way. You glance back at the woman's face and have to repress a shudder. There's something so <i>dead</i> about her—a heavy dullness infusing her entire aura—and yet such a lively intelligence somehow animating her features that you feel almost nauseated. "Maybe if I talk to her, it will… reset her," you murmur. Briony glances at you hopefully, nodding. <<include "brionyamezuconversation1">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"What's your name?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686271'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"How are you today?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686272'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Can you hear me?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686273'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

The woman immediately straightens and gives you a professional nod. "Amezu Sieh, <<nobr>><<if $she is "she">> ma'am. <<elseif $she is "he">> sir. <<else>> serah. <</if>><</nobr>> Member of the royal guard." <<include 'amezuintroduced'>>

The woman flicks a glance your way, the expression on her face distantly curious, but still professional. "Just fine, <<nobr>><<if $she is "she">> ma'am." <<elseif $she is "he">> sir." <<else>> serah." <</if>><</nobr>> Then she looks back toward the party, her expression hardening into one of stony alertness again, as if you'd never spoken. "She told me her name was Amezu Sieh," Briony murmurs helpfully at your side. <<include 'amezuintroduced'>>

The woman flicks a glance your way, the expression on her face grim, unsmiling, and almost bored. "Yes, <<nobr>><<if $she is "she">> ma'am." <<elseif $she is "he">> sir." <<else>> serah." <</if>><</nobr>> Her voice is dull and weary, as if she were any other mercenary, forced to be polite but tired of having to answer useless questions. Then she looks back toward the party, her expression hardening into one of stony alertness again. "She told me her name was Amezu Sieh," Briony murmurs helpfully at your side. <<include 'amezuintroduced'>>

You frown, considering the woman. You probably can't linger too long here, openly conversing with a run-of-the-mill Ket guard in the middle of a politicians' gathering, but it seems she's more amenable to answering your line of questions than Briony's… so long as you don't push the constrains of her 'Leash' too far. Scrutinizing her further, you have to swallow back your unease. Even feeling around with your magic, <<nobr>><<if $psionic >= 90>> you can only <i>barely</i> feel that something is wrong with her. It's the faintest tang of unnaturalness, like walking into a room and feeling unsure if you've caught the whiff of something near odorless, like gas, or wondering if you've merely imagined it. <<else>> you can't feel that anything about Amezu is <i>wrong</i>. If Croelle hadn't informed you of the truth, you're not sure you would have noticed anything amiss during your visit here at all. And that is a chilling thought. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "talktoamezu">>

<<nobr>><<if $amezutalk >= 5>> <<include "amezuinterrupt">> <<else>> <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited ("amezuanswer")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Do you have to answer all of my questions?"</div>' 'amezuanswer'>><<set $amezutalk += 1>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited ("amezusecrecy") and $intelligence >= 70 and $cunning >= 65>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Will you tell anyone about our conversation?"</div>' 'amezusecrecy'>><<set $amezutalk += 1>><<setintelligence +1>><<setcunning +1>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited ("amezuorigin")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Who are you? Where do you come from?"</div>' 'amezuorigin'>><<set $amezutalk += 1>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited ("amezuleashed")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Do you know that you're Leashed? How do we break the Leashing?"</div>' 'amezuleashed'>><<set $amezutalk += 1>><<setcunning -1>><<setintelligence -1>><<setbriony -1>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited ("amezusibella")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"What can you tell me about Sibella de Vespe?"</div>' 'amezusibella'>><<set $amezutalk += 1>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited ("amezuguards")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Tell me about the other guards here. The ones like you."</div>' 'amezuguards'>><<set $amezutalk += 1>><</link>><</if>> </div><</nobr>> <</if>><</nobr>>

The guard only glances at you mutely, then glances away again, seemingly not knowing what to say. <<include "talktoamezu">>

The guard looks at you, and you almost think you see some hint of meaningfulness in her gaze. "Not if you command me otherwise," she says calmly, enunciating the words as clearly as possible. Besides you, Briony sucks in a sharp breath. You stare at Amezu, whose expression remains placid. So is the 'real her' trying to communicate with—or even help you—after all? "Then I command you not to tell anyone about this conversation," you say, trying to keep your voice steady. Amezu lowers her eyes briefly in assent. "Then I won't. Unless, of course, the Autarch himself asks. But if he doesn't have any reason to…" She trails off and shakes her head, almost as if to combat a sudden ringing in her ears. <<include "talktoamezu">>

Amezu's expression doesn't change. "I am Amezu Sieh," she tells you woodenly. "Daughter of the Sieh clan in Damashi. Khehi-Ket, fourth rank of the <i>kyrisae</i>, twenty-seventh division. Sister of Angara Sieh, the Violet Wind." You glance at Briony, who shakes her head; none of those names mean much to her, either. "How did you come to be in the Autarch's service?" Amezu's lips press tightly together, though whether they were sealed by Sibella's spell or her own reluctance, you can't say. <<include "talktoamezu">>

Briony grabs your arm with a warning hiss, but Amezu only stares at you silently, as if you'd said something to her in another language. Thankfully, she doesn't assume the remote expression that would imply that you're cut off from questioning her. Yet. <<include "talktoamezu">>

For the briefest instance, you wonder if you imagine the ghostly spasm of dislike that crosses Amezu's face before it slips away again, like a fallen leaf gliding across a smooth lake. "She is the High Court Mystic," the guard supplies politely, as if you were nothing more than a visiting tourist. "A powerful Mage and Enchanter. A favorite of the Autarch. She comes from a long line of Court Mages who have served the Autarch's family in a similar capacity to her, though she is the first to be elevated to her current title. She is six feet in height and is skilled at using a rapier and a variety of dueling swords." She trails off, though there seems to be an edge of strain underpinning her last words. You can't be sure if you're only seeing things, but her left leg gives an imperceptible tremor, as if she wants to shake it. Briony turns to you abruptly. "I think I see it now," she says. "<i>Asking</i> questions leaves room for choice, so the spell doesn't impel her to obey you automatically. When it's flexible like that, probably her vows to silence and privacy override the need to answer you, since you're not really giving her a direct order: the urgency of your question always falls beneath the standard instinct to stick to her default, preset mode. But you might get more information if you <i>command</i> her to tell you more. It's like… it's like giving her permission, maybe? It might override her default commands." You glance back at Amezu's blank face. <i>Or it's like exploiting her enslavement further.</i> <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Command her to tell you more.</div>' 'autogenerated_686274'>><<setcompassionate -1>><<setintelligence +1>><<setbriony +1>><<set $sibellaevidence += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Leave it alone. You won't force her if she won't—or can't—tell you.</div>' 'talktoamezu'>><<setbriony -1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"Tell me more about Sibella," you tell her. <i>Tell me something she wouldn't want me to know</i>. Only you can't say it that way, or the Leash might tighten to choke your informant. Amezu shifts slightly, as if uncomfortable. "What do you want to know?" she asks thickly. You need to be even more specific with it, it seems. <<nobr>><<if $sibellaevidence >= 1>> "Who is this man that comes to visit her late at night in secret?" you ask. <br><br> Amezu's face remains expressionless. "He claims he's a language tutor," she intones. "Apparently to teach her Korkyth. He comes dressed all in black, and speaks with a thick Karzaki accent. We've been instructed to allow him in to visit her whenever he pleases, and to not tell any Sun Courtier about his identity." <br><br> "But you can tell us?" Briony asks softly. <br><br> Amezu doesn't look at her. "You are not a Sun Courtier." <br><br> Yes, you think, she is definitely trying her best to help you. <<else>> "Is she hiding anything from the Autarch?" you ask, choosing your words carefully. <br><br> Amezu is silent for a moment, as if turning your specific wording over and over in her mind. Finally she intones, "A man comes to visit her late at night in her private quarters. He claims he's a language tutor, come to teach her Korkyth. He comes dressed all in black, and speaks with a thick Karzaki accent. We've been instructed to allow him in to visit her whenever he pleases, and to not tell any Sun Courtier about his identity." <br><br> "But you can tell us?" Briony asks softly. <br><br> Amezu doesn't look at her. "You are not a Sun Courtier." <br><br> Yes, you think, she is definitely trying her best to help you. <</if>><</nobr>> "But why would Sibella keep that a secret?" you ask her. But Amezu only presses her lips shut again and shakes her head, her light green eyes hard and simmering with something now. Resentment, frustration? You couldn't say for sure. <<include 'talktoamezu'>>

For the briefest instant, Amezu hesitates. Then her expression smooths back into a look of unconcern. "The ones like me," she repeats dully. You nod, holding your breath. "What do you want to know about them?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"How many of them are there?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686275'>><<set $sibellaevidence += 1>><<set $amezuknow to true>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Are there any outside of the Sun Court?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686276'>><<set $sibellaevidence += 1>><<set $amezuknow to true>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Are they all loyal to the Autarch?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686277'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

You see a muscle leap in Amezu's cheek. "Now?" She thinks. "Nearly four hundred Ket. More…" She takes a shaky breath, but the spell seems to clamp on something, because after a moment of struggling with it, she cuts herself off and picks up another thread. "There used to be more, but there were some that were… sent away." <<include 'sentawayleashed'>>

You see a muscle leap in Amezu's cheek. "Yes," she intones thickly, speaking as if from around a spoonful of syrup. "There have been some that have been… sent away." <<include 'sentawayleashed'>>

At this, Amezu's shoulders abruptly straighten, and she stands up straight, as if she were a puppet yanked sharply by a string. "Of course we are," she fairly snaps, staring straight over your heads again, as if she's addressing some invisible commander conducting a field inspection. "We are all loyal to the Autarch. Every last one of us." <<include 'talktoamezu'>>

You and Briony glance at each other. "Sent away where?" Amezu shakes her head slowly. "Somewhere North. We…" Her chin trembles, as if fighting against lockjaw. "We loaded them into covered wagons. In the dead of night. A month ago. Only the ones too weak or sick to serve well anymore. The ones who wouldn't be missed." "Who took them away?" you ask her keenly. "And who sent them there to begin with?" But Amezu only blinks, as if dazed by a flash of hard sunlight, and shakes her head. <<include "talktoamezu">>

Before you can say anything more, you're abruptly interrupted by a shrill, grating laugh, which makes Briony fairly leap out of her skin. You whirl to find a woman in her thirties with very red lips and pearls threaded through her crisp brown ringlets, sailing towards you with a sly, knowing look on her face. "Entertaining yourself with our little pets, are you?" she coos, winding her arm possessively around Amezu's and stroking her bicep as familiarly as if she were a lapdog. The Ket woman accepts this attention with complete passivity. "Aren't they positively <i>darling</i>? The Autarch must import them from somewhere that trains them well, because they'll do anything little thing you ask of them! Only—" She leans forward and lowers her voice conspiratorially, that impish, mischievous, girlish look on her face enough to make you grit your teeth. "I'll give you a hint. They'll respond to any imperative command you make, but they're dull creatures: if you're careless or imprecise with your wording, they'll get it all wrong! No, you've got to be as <i>exact</i> as possible, or they'll make of a mess of things. For example, if I tell one to fetch me my coat, they'll invariably bring me the wrong one, and when I say, 'No, fetch me the <i>brown</i> coat,' they might interpret that to mean the first brown coat they see, not necessarily <i>mine</i>! And then it goes back and forth forever. So you mustn't be too careless about what you tell them, or they might use your phrasing to get up to some mischief. Still, it's a funny little game to play, sometimes." She looks brightly and eagerly between you and Briony, as if she were a child introducing you to a novel new toy and ascertaining your inevitable approval. You see something in Briony's face for a moment—something sharp and wild and deadly, like a storm rising up behind her eyes, her own kind of blankness rapidly setting in—before she turns away, trembling with fury. Her fist curls so hard against her side that you think the knuckles will split. The noblewoman, noticing this, takes a step away from you, her smile dimming by a few molars, though she seems at a loss as to what could be wrong. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Don't you ever wonder <i>why</i> they're like this?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686278'>><<setbriony +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"These are human beings, not playthings."</div>' 'autogenerated_686279'>><<setbriony +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"It's in your best interest to get out of our sight. Now."</div>' 'autogenerated_686280'>><<setbriony +1>><<setcompassionate -3>><<setcourage +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Kindly fuck off, madam."</div>' 'autogenerated_686281'>><<setbriony +1>><<setcompassionate -3>><<setcourage +1>><<setcharisma -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Hit her, Briony."</div>' 'autogenerated_686282'>><<setbriony -3>><<setloyal -1>><<setcompassionate -3>><<setcharisma -1>><<setcunning -1>><<setintelligence -1>><<setcourage +1>><</link>> <<if $briony >= 75 and $brionyhate is false and $compassionate >= 65 and $loyal >= 65>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Touch Briony's back. <i>Calm down.</i></div>' 'autogenerated_686283'>><<setbriony +3>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setloyal +1>><<setcharisma +1>><<set $brionyromanceflag += 1>><</link>><</if>> <<if $briony < 75 or $brionyhate is true or $compassionate < 65 or $loyal < 65>><div class="inactive-item">Touch Briony's back. <i>Calm down.</i></div><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

The woman blinks, looking taken aback. "Why, no," she says with genteel shock. "All Ket are like this, aren't they? It's simply in their nature." <<include 'brionythreaten'>>

The woman blinks, looking as taken aback as if you'd just asked her to perform some complicated math sequence in her head. "Well, they're <i>Ket</i>, darling," she says, somewhat condescendingly, though she also seems genuinely puzzled. <<include 'brionythreaten'>>

The sight of her nuzzling up against an indifferent Amezu and giggling like a schoolgirl is almost too much to bear. The woman blinks, looking befuddled, as if she doesn't believe she heard you correctly. Then she laughs abruptly, disbelieving, and begins, "Really, I don't…" <<include 'brionythreaten'>>

The sight of her nuzzling up around an indifferent Amezu and giggling like a schoolgirl is almost too much to bear. The woman blinks, looking befuddled, as if she doesn't believe she heard you correctly. Then she gasps, pressing her gloved hand to her chest, as she says, "Really, I've <i>never</i>…" <<include 'brionythreaten'>>

The noblewoman's eyes widen in shock, and Amezu immediately stiffens, her hands falling to her sides as she suddenly draws herself to her full, imposing height. The woman cowers behind her as the Ket guard takes a step forward, looks you square in the eye, and says softly, "If you threaten violence upon a member of this court, I'll have to remove you from the premises." Her eyes are perfectly serious as she says it: there's no way for you to know which part is the Leash talking and which part is Amezu, as she seems the picture of a Khehi-Ket taking her duty to her client seriously. Behind her, the ringleted noblewoman gives a kind of offended cry. "Th-that's right!" she exclaims. "How <i>dare</i> you—" "<<c firstname>> was only joking," Briony says then, firmly, hooking her hand around your elbow as she prepares to drag you out of the way if Amezu decides to take another step forward. "It was a figure of speech, not a threat. We're officers of the court as well; we have no intention of hitting <i>anybody</i> here." This she says solely to Amezu, who relaxes slightly, looking wary but seemingly more tolerant. Two unflattering red spots appear high on the noblewoman's cheeks, and she turns to sweep away from you. Before she departs, however, she turns her head over her shoulder without quite looking back and says coldly, "Amezu. Come." Expressionless, the Ket woman shoulders past you and vanishes into the crowd. <<include 'brionyhitresponse'>>

At your silent urging, Briony instantly relaxes, the fine trembling beneath your hand abating as she blows out a long, steadying breath. Her eyes, when they meet yours, are clearer and more determined, and she gives a grim nod. The intruding noblewoman, however, looks totally bewildered by what's gone on here. At your flat glares, she retreats behind Amezu, almost as if to use her as a shield, and murmurs, "Come, Amezu." Expressionless, the Ket woman shoulders past you and vanishes into the crowd. <<include 'brionycomforted'>>

Briony abruptly cracks her knuckles, making the noblewoman jump. "Get out of my sight," the former gladiator growls, her teeth bared in an expression that suddenly makes her look hard and savage, a kind of crazed glitter in her eyes. "<b><i>Now</i></b>." The woman abruptly turns away and scampers away. But before she disappears back into the courtyard, she pauses, then turns her head over her shoulder without quite looking back. "Amezu. Come." Expressionless, the Ket woman shoulders past you and vanishes into the crowd. <<page_break "..." "brionyaftermath">>

Briony's chest heaves like a bellows as she stands beside you and does her best to try and calm down. <<nobr>><<if $brionyromance is true or $brionyromanceflag >= 30>> You want to do something in that moment—hold her, stroke her hair, pepper her face with soft kisses—but you have to hold back for the moment, knowing that there are many cunning eyes now fixed on you as the errant noblewoman reaches her friends and exclaims upon your savagery and rudeness. Briony, squeezing her eyes shut, reaches out blindly and gropes for you; you catch her hand, and she mutters to you: "I'll be fine. Just… just give me a moment, please. If I make <i>you</i> look bad, I'll feel even worse than I already do." She tries to give you a weak smile. "I'll be fine." <br><br> You squeeze her hand tightly. "Are you sure?" <br><br> She brings your hand up to her lips and kisses the back of it briefly. "Very. I'll catch up with you in a moment." <br><br> You nod, and—glaring challengingly at some of the onlooking nobles who are smirking now at you—you step away to give Briony some space for the moment. <br><br> After a few minutes of attempting to make some conversation with a stuffy, oblivious secretary, you notice that the pink-haired fighter turns and rejoins the party with a tight, forced smile plastered on her face… but her eyes, as she searches the faces of the nobles around her, promise a determined kind of revenge. <<elseif $briony >= 75 and $charisma >= 65 and $compassionate >= 80 and $loyal >= 70>> You want to do something to help her—give her a hug or touch her shoulder—but you have to hold back for the moment, knowing that there are many cunning eyes now fixed on you as the errant noblewoman reaches her friends and exclaims upon your savagery and rudeness. Briony, squeezing her eyes shut, mutters after a moment: "I'll be fine. Just… just give me a moment, please. If I make <i>you</i> look bad, I'll feel even worse than I already do." She tries to give you a weak smile. "I'll be fine." <br><br> You give her a concerned look. "Are you sure?" <br><br> She nods, and the brief, watery smile grows into something a bit more genuine for an instant. "Very. I'll catch up with you in a moment." <br><br> You nod, and—glaring challengingly at some of the onlooking nobles who are smirking now at you—you step away to give Briony some space for the moment. <br><br> After a few minutes of attempting to make some conversation with a stuffy, oblivious secretary, you notice that the pink-haired fighter turns and rejoins the party with a tight, forced smile plastered on her face… but her eyes, as she searches the faces of the nobles around her, promise a determined kind of revenge. <<else>> She turns away from you, shoulders hunched, and mutters after a moment: "I'll be fine. You should leave me, do something else for a bit. I need a moment." <br><br> You nod and step away to give Briony some space. <br><br> After a few minutes of attempting to make some conversation with a stuffy, oblivious secretary, you notice that the pink-haired fighter turns and rejoins the party with a tight, forced smile plastered on her face… but her eyes, as she searches the faces of the nobles around her, promise a determined kind of revenge. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "suncourtiermissiongo">>

<<page_break "..." "brionyhitcontinued">>

Briony turns back to you and mutters, looking exasperated for once: "<i>Really</i>, <<c firstname>>, did you have to say that?" You lift your brows. "She deserved to get punched in the face." "<i>Be that as it may</i>, drawing attention to ourselves by threatening a Sun Courtier in front of a Leashed guard bound to protect her is…" She sighs suddenly, shaking her head. "Gods, is this what people feel like when <i>I</i> do something stupid? I need to work on that." Scowling—though her anger now has simmered more to a low-level frustration—she turns away from you and says, "Thanks for coming over to check on me. I'll be fine. I just… need a moment, okay?" You stare at her assessingly, but the pink-haired warrior seems to have calmed down significantly, so you decide to give her some space. She walks away, retreating to the privacy of the colonnades, and you step away to make conversation with a stuffy, oblivious secretary. Some minutes later, you see Briony return to the party, a grim, unconvincing smile plastered on her face… but her eyes, as she searches the faces of the nobles around her, promise a determined kind of revenge. <<include "suncourtiermissiongo">>

<<page_break "Next" "brionycomfortedcontinued">>

Briony shakes her head and mutters a few choice words under her breath before she turns to you with a faint, watery, unconvincing smile. "Thanks, <<c firstname>>," she says with a clear note of relief in her voice. "For a second, I just saw red… I don't know <i>what</i> I was going to do, but it wasn't going to be pretty." She shivers and looks away, a faint trace of shame on her face as she bites her lip. <<nobr>><<if $brionyromanceflag >= 30 or $brionyromance is true>> She looks so vulnerable and conflicted that you want to do something in that moment—hold her, stroke her hair, pepper her face with soft kisses—but you have to hold back for the moment, knowing that there are many cunning eyes now fixed on you as the errant noblewoman reaches her friends and exclaims upon your savagery and rudeness. Briony, squeezing her eyes shut, reaches out blindly and gropes for you; you catch her hand, and she mutters to you: "I'll be fine. Just… just give me a moment, please. If I make <i>you</i> look bad, I'll feel even worse than I already do." She tries to give you a weak smile. "I'll be fine." <br><br> You squeeze her hand tightly. "Are you sure?" <br><br> She brings your hand up to her lips and kisses the back of it briefly. "Very. I'll catch up with you in a moment." <br><br> You nod, and—glaring challengingly at some of the onlooking nobles who are smirking now at you—you step away to give Briony some space for the moment. <br><br> After a few minutes of attempting to make some conversation with a stuffy, oblivious secretary, you notice that the pink-haired fighter turns and rejoins the party with a tight, forced smile plastered on her face… but her eyes, as she searches the faces of the nobles around her, promise a determined kind of revenge. <<elseif $briony >= 75 and $charisma >= 65 and $compassionate >= 80 and $loyal >= 70>> You want to do something to help her—give her a hug or touch her shoulder—but you have to hold back for the moment, knowing that there are many cunning eyes now fixed on you as the errant noblewoman reaches her friends and exclaims upon your savagery and rudeness. Briony, squeezing her eyes shut, mutters after a moment: "I'll be fine. Just… just give me a moment, please. If I make <i>you</i> look bad, I'll feel even worse than I already do." She tries to give you a weak smile. "I'll be fine." <br><br> You give her a concerned look. "Are you sure?" <br><br> She nods, and the brief, watery smile grows into something a bit more genuine for an instant. "Very. I'll catch up with you in a moment." <br><br> You nod, and—glaring challengingly at some of the onlooking nobles who are smirking now at you—you step away to give Briony some space for the moment. <br><br> After a few minutes of attempting to make some conversation with a stuffy, oblivious secretary, you notice that the pink-haired fighter turns and rejoins the party with a tight, forced smile plastered on her face… but her eyes, as she searches the faces of the nobles around her, promise a determined kind of revenge. <<else>> She turns away from you, shoulders hunched, and mutters after a moment: "I'll be fine. You should leave me, do something else for a bit. I need a moment." <br><br> You nod and step away to give Briony some space. <br><br> After a few minutes of attempting to make some conversation with a stuffy, oblivious secretary, you notice that the pink-haired fighter turns and rejoins the party with a tight, forced smile plastered on her face… but her eyes, as she searches the faces of the nobles around her, promise a determined kind of revenge. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "suncourtiermissiongo">>

Somewhere beyond the courtyard, a series of deep, gentle chimes sounds, and immediately clusters of people begin to break up, gather together, or move towards the entrance of the courtyard at a leisurely pace, looking like groups of pasture-grazers beginning to make their way back home at the sound of the dinner bell. Lavinet appears beside you, as elegant and composed as ever, and says in an undertone: "This event is over, and many of the ministers and politicians must return to their work in the ministerial buildings. Some nobles, however, will continue their socializing over a lawn concert held not far from here." You hear a muffled exclamation to your right, where Briony appears, looking hassled. "Gods, do these people do anything else beyond standing around at different events, eating, and talking?" "I would hope that after a few hours here, you've realized that they do far more than that." Here comes Riel, straightening his cravat and picking over the sleeves of his impeccable suit. "What have we gained as a result of today's toils?" Trying to look inconspicuous and not like a team of officers conferring over a grave and urgent matter, you give a debriefing of your own maneuvers at the luncheon, as do the others. <<nobr>><<if $darktomesibella is false and $petition >= 10>> It sounds as if you've hopefully garnered enough names to snag High Augur Arameri's attentions, and compel him to bring the matter before the Autarch… but you still have to find actual hard evidence of her treachery first. <br><br> <<include "investigatesibellasrooms">> <<elseif $darktomesibella is true and $petition >= 7>> Hopefully, you've garnered the right names (and the right amount of them) to make your case of finding the dark tome in Sibella's rooms convincing enough that High Augur Arameri will be forced to take action… enough to spur the Autarch into arresting her. <br><br> Riel nods slowly, looking from face to face. "Let's give the signal to Croelle, then," he says heavily. "Once the Inquisitors 'discover' the damning evidence, we'll be there to supplement their case with our list of 'witnesses.' Let us hope that will be enough." <br><br> <<page_break "..." "highaugurarameri">> <<elseif $darktomesibella is true and $petition < 7>> You're not totally sure if you've garnered enough names to make your case of finding the dark tome in Sibella's rooms compelling enough to force High Augur Arameri into definitive action, but with time growing short, you'll just have to take your chances. <br><br> Riel nods slowly, looking from face to face. "Let's give the signal to Croelle, then," he says heavily. "Once the Inquisitors 'discover' the damning evidence, we'll be there to supplement their case with our list of 'witnesses.' Let us hope that will be enough." <br><br> <<page_break "..." "highaugurarameri">> <<else>> You're not totally sure if you've garnered enough names to snag High Augur Arameri's attentions, but with time growing short, you'll have to take your chances. You still have to find actual hard evidence of her treachery first. <br><br> <<include "investigatesibellasrooms">> <</if>><</nobr>>

"While everyone is preoccupied, we should take the opportunity to slip into Sibella's rooms," Lavinet suggests. "Hopefully we can find evidence of <i>something</i> there—something that will allow us to piece together the information we've gathered at this party." "And thereby present a compelling narrative that will force the High Augur to take us seriously," Riel adds. "What we have now is possibly useful, but not coherent enough to bring before the Autarch." Briony shifts uncomfortably, looking nervous. "But won't her rooms be protected? What if we're caught?" <<nobr>><<if $knowsibellaprotection is true>> "They're not magically warded," you say. "I heard it from another Court Mage myself, and I trust that he was honest about that. The Sun Court's magical protections only apply to the private quarters of a select few. Everyone else is subject to the same inspections—and vulnerabilities—as the rest of the Autarchy." <<else>> "That's just a chance we'll have to take," Riel says. <<if $discussdarktome is true>> "If Croelle's people could get in as easily as he made it seem, I would doubt there are magical protections in place there." <<else>> "My guess is that the private residence of a Court Mage—even one as powerful as she—wouldn't be allowed to be warded, either by other Court Mages or herself. It would provide too much opportunity for secrets, and rebellion, and conspiracy, and the imbalance of power. She could hide anything in there, if that were the case, and the nobles wouldn't have any way of knowing. Knowing the Autarch, he wouldn't allow for that risk. Enik Goldenson does not trust lightly." <</if>> <</if>><</nobr>> "Leaving only regular guards, which I think we can evade easily enough," Lavinet murmurs. "I've taken the liberty of ascertaining where her residence is—Sibella herself will be busy in her offices for the rest of the day, so there's little chance of her returning until late tonight. Now is the perfect time for us to go." "Though four, I think, would be too conspicuous," Riel says smartly. "Better that there are only two, so as not to draw undue attention. The other two can attempt to gather more information at the concert." "Well, <<c firstname>> should definitely be one of the two," Briony says, glancing at you. "Even if Sibella's rooms aren't officially warded by the Sun Court, I'd think we'd still need $her magic and intuition to find whatever nastiness she could be hiding." "I agree," Lavinet says. "Who should go with $them, then?" And they all turn expectantly towards you. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'll bring Riel. I'll need his detective's mind and tactical thinking to ferret out Sibella's secrets."</div>' 'autogenerated_686284'>><<setriel +5>><<set $sibellapartner to "riel">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'll bring Briony. Her magic and martial skills will help with any obstacles we encounter."</div>' 'autogenerated_686285'>><<setbriony +5>><<set $sibellapartner to "briony">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'll bring Lavinet. She can talk us out of trouble, and she knows how to think like a courtier." </div>' 'autogenerated_686286'>><<setlavinet +5>><<set $sibellapartner to "lavinet">><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Riel is exceptional at out-thinking his opponents and will be able to deduce a lot from Sibella's rooms. He's also proven to be an adept and cunning liar, should you need help from that quarter. Riel doesn't quite smile, but you see the devilish smirk touch his icy blue eyes in acknowledgment of your choice. Lavinet nods seriously, all business. "Very well," she says formally. "We'll reconvene back here <<nobr>><<if $lavinet >= 70>> afterward." She touches your arm encouragingly. "Good luck." <<else>> afterward. Good luck." <</if>><</nobr>> You blow out a breath in acknowledgment: you're going to need it. If you don't find anything in Sibella's rooms, that'll be your last hopes dashed, and you don't even want to think about what will happen next. <<include 'sibellapartnerchosen'>>

Your powers go hand-in-hand with each other, and she can help take out any guards if need be as well as help you expand the repertoire of spells that you can work together. Briony smiles, a little grimly. "Let's take this bitch down," she says, clenching her fists in a battle-ready pose. Riel nods seriously, all business. "Fine," he says. "We'll reconvene back here afterward. Good luck." You blow out a breath in acknowledgment: you're going to need it. If you don't find anything in Sibella's rooms, that'll be your last hopes dashed, and you don't even want to think about what will happen next. <<include 'sibellapartnerchosen'>>

Her status also lends your presence a kind of immunity; most people wouldn't question why she'd be wandering around the Sun Court, whereas someone like Riel or Briony might add to your obtrusiveness. Lavinet smiles and gives a mock-curtsy, though she seems pleased by your show of confidence in her. "I am at your service," she says, dipping her head. Riel nods seriously, all business. "Fine," he says. "We'll reconvene back here afterward. Good luck." You blow out a breath in acknowledgment: you're going to need it. If you don't find anything in Sibella's rooms, that'll be your last hopes dashed, and you don't even want to think about what will happen next. <<include 'sibellapartnerchosen'>>

You set off with <<c sibellapartner>> at your side, strolling through shadowy arcades and along sparkling garden pathways with the sedate pace of two visitors simply taking a quiet moment to admire their sophisticated surroundings. You hardly pass a soul—at this time of day, most members of the Sun Court are out to lunch somewhere in the city or are holed up in their offices with important work—and it's not long before you reach Sibella's building. If Sun Courtiers don't own their own estate in Haven (a mansion either in the Sun Court or in Whitestone), but also don't have official rooms within the Autarch's Dawn Palace itself, they're usually granted a suite or floor of apartments within one of several embassy compounds and official residences scattered around the district. Foreign diplomats, you're told, stay in lavish, hotel-like ambassadorial compounds like the Jade Palace or the Topaz Palace. High-up government officials like De Vespe have private apartments in villa-style buildings like this one, a six-story lodge called Aubade Residence. Sibella's rooms, you're told, reside on the first floor. Going through the front entrance of Aubade Residence would mean dealing with an army of doormen, valets, and butlers eager to direct you to whoever's apartment you're trying to visit; but every building like this has to have a side or back gate (or multiple) for the various servants, deliveries, or even discreet guests a noble might want to smuggle up to their rooms. It takes nothing at all for two seasoned Shepherds like you to locate such an entrance and slip through it, moving quickly and quietly but also casually, as if you're two guests already familiar with the place rather than intruders intent on breaking in and burgling it. Eventually you find yourselves in the quiet peristyle courtyard attached to Sibella's apartments: a tranquil, sun-dappled inner garden blooming with sweet pink honeysuckle and filled with the sounds of a tinkling, fluting fountain in the corner, squared off on all sides by yet more colonnades. It's a rustic, charming sight that seems at odds with your image of Sibella—who brings to mind dark crushed velvet, black dahlias, and heavy, cloying perfume—but, you suppose, it's not as if she designed the place herself. You wonder if she actually got to pick where she lived, or if she simply had to move into whatever place the Autarch selected. You're just crossing the courtyard and making your approach to Sibella's front door when you hear the sounds of approaching footsteps from somewhere around the corner of the western colonnade. The steps are unhurried and purposeful, and you think you also make out the rattle of military epaulets, maybe even a sabre buckled to a sword-belt. Probably a patrolling guard. You and <<c sibellapartner>> freeze: <<nobr>><<if $sibellapartner is "briony">> she shoots you a frantic, panicked glance, her violet eyes wide. You're completely visible from where you're standing, and there's nowhere nearby where you can hide. <<elseif $sibellapartner is "lavinet">> you watch her expression flatten into one of resignation, knowing that you're completely visible where you're standing, as she takes in a breath and draws herself up, her chin lifting to meet this new challenge. <<else>> you watch his blue eyes dart from you to the corner around which the guard will shortly appear, clearly making rapid calculations in his head as he tries to think of the best way to get out of this situation. <</if>><</nobr>> <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if ((($specialization is "enchanter") and ($magic >= 90)) and (($psionic >= 90) and ($arcane >= 50)))>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Turn yourselves invisible, if only for a brief time.</div>' 'autogenerated_686287'>><<setpsionic +3>><<setarcane +3>><<setmagic +3>><</link>><</if>> <<if ((($specialization is not "enchanter") or ($magic < 90)) or (($psionic < 90) or ($arcane >= 50)))>><div class="inactive-item">Turn yourselves invisible, if only for a brief time.</div><</if>> <<if (((($specialization is "enchanter") and ($magic >= 80)) and (($psionic >= 80) or ($specialization != "enchanter"))) and (($psionic >= 85) and ($magic >= 90)))>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Take control of the guard's mind and make them forget ever seeing you.</div>' 'autogenerated_686288'>><<setmagic +3>><<setpsionic +3>><</link>><</if>> <<if not (((($specialization is "enchanter") and ($magic >= 80)) and (($psionic >= 80) or ($specialization != "enchanter"))) and (($psionic >= 85) and ($magic >= 90)))>><div class="inactive-item">Take control of the guard's mind and make them forget ever seeing you.</div><</if>> <<if (($specialization is "shifter") and ($magic >= 75)) and ($arcane >= 70)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Shift both you and <<c sibellapartner>> into commonplace inanimate objects.</div>' 'autogenerated_686289'>><<setarcane +3>><<setmagic +3>><</link>><</if>> <<if not ((($specialization is "shifter") and ($magic >= 75)) and ($arcane >= 70))>><div class="inactive-item">Shift both you and <<c sibellapartner>> into commonplace inanimate objects.</div><</if>> <<if (($specialization is "shifter") and ($magic >= 80)) and ($arcane >= 85)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Shift yourself into a housecat and distract the guard while <<c sibellapartner>> gets around the corner to safety.</div>' 'autogenerated_686290'>><<setmagic +3>><<setarcane +3>><</link>><</if>> <<if not ((($specialization is "shifter") and ($magic >= 80)) and ($arcane >= 85))>><div class="inactive-item">Shift yourself into a housecat and distract the guard while <<c sibellapartner>> gets around the corner to safety.</div><</if>> <<if ((($specialization is "wild") and ($psionic >= 45)) or (($magic >= 60) and ($psionic >= 75)))>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Direct a nearby crow to distract the guard while you get to safety.</div>' 'autogenerated_686291'>><<setmagic +3>><<setpsionic +3>><</link>><</if>> <<if not ((($specialization is "wild") and ($psionic >= 45)) or (($magic >= 60) and ($psionic >= 75)))>><div class="inactive-item">Direct a nearby crow to distract the guard while you get to safety.</div><</if>> <<if (($specialization is "conjurer") and ($arcane >= 60)) or (($arcane >= 70) and ($magic >= 70))>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Teleport yourselves into the maintenance closet you see discreetly marked on the other side of the courtyard.</div>' 'autogenerated_686292'>><<setmagic +3>><<setarcane +3>><</link>><</if>> <<if not ((($specialization is "conjurer") and ($arcane >= 60)) or (($arcane >= 70) and ($magic >= 70)))>><div class="inactive-item">Teleport yourselves into the maintenance closet you see discreetly marked on the other side of the courtyard.</div><</if>> <<if (($specialization is "binder") and ($arcane >= 30)) or (($magic >= 50) and ($arcane >= 50))>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Use a magical tripwire to trip the guard and keep them occupied while you get under cover.</div>' 'autogenerated_686293'>><<setarcane +3>><<setmagic +3>><</link>><</if>> <<if not ((($specialization is "binder") and ($arcane >= 30)) or (($magic >= 50) and ($arcane >= 50)))>><div class="inactive-item">Use a magical tripwire to trip the guard and keep them occupied while you get under cover.</div><</if>> <<if ((($sibellapartner is "briony") and ($brionyromance is true)) or (($sibellapartner is "briony") and ($brionyromanceflag >= 25)))>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Draw Briony into the shadows of the colonnade, and then kiss her. Passionately.</div>' 'autogenerated_686294'>><<setbriony +5>><<set $brionyromanceflag += 5>><</link>><</if>> <<if ((($sibellapartner is "riel") and ($rielromance is true)) or (($sibellapartner is "riel") and ($rielromanceflag >= 30)))>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Draw Riel into the shadows of the colonnade, and then kiss him. Passionately.</div>' 'autogenerated_686295'>><<setriel +3>><<set $rielromanceflag += 2>><</link>><</if>> <<if ((($sibellapartner is "lavinet") and ($lavinetromance is true)) or (($sibellapartner is "lavinet") and ($lavinetromanceflag >= 25)))>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Draw Lavinet into the shadows of the colonnade, and then kiss her. Passionately.</div>' 'autogenerated_686296'>><<setlavinet +5>><<set $lavinetromanceflag += 5>><</link>><</if>> <<if $sibellapartner is "riel">><<link '<div class="choice-item">Let Riel handle this.</div>' 'autogenerated_686297'>><<setriel +2>><</link>><</if>> <<if $sibellapartner is "lavinet">><<link '<div class="choice-item">Let Lavinet handle this.</div>' 'autogenerated_686298'>><<setlavinet +3>><</link>><</if>> <<if $sibellapartner is "briony">><<link '<div class="choice-item">Let Briony handle this.</div>' 'autogenerated_686299'>><</link>><</if>> </div><</nobr>> /* #(if) (($cunning >= 75) and ($charisma >= 75)) and ($intelligence >= 65) <div class="choice-item">Try to talk your way out of this.</div> #<<if not (($cunning >= 75) and ($charisma >= 75)) and ($intelligence >= 65)>> <div class="inactive-item">Try to talk your way out of this.</div> -> talkyourwayout */

Achieving true invisibility is one of the hardest things to accomplish in magic. It's considered old charter magic, of the variety that the Mages of Archmage Tangriel's time practiced, and you've only lately begun trying to pick away at it. It's a dizzying, convoluted tangle of calculation and spellcraft, involving weaving the spell like a cloak around yourself, which requires an understanding of how the human mind perceives light and movement as well as how to bend the aether around yourself—like a shimmering mirrored shield or patch of illusion—in a way that perfectly disguises you against a static backdrop. For now, you've only figured out how to accomplish it when you're standing still, and you can only maintain the illusion for a few moments at a time, and you've never tried it alongside someone other than yourself… but if there was ever a time to put such a spell to the test, it would be now. You gather the magic around yourself, bunching it like a skirt, before casting it like a gossamer net on top of you and <<c sibellapartner>>, holding your hand up to signal silence and stillness. <<c sibellapartner>> tenses, and you both hold your breaths, peering through the gauzy, filmy veil of the spell as you watch the guard round the corner. She's a stout, broad-shouldered young woman with a freckled face and a shock of short red curls that are shaved at the sides of her head. A military sabre is tucked carefully against her left side. You watch as her gaze meanders lazily, incuriously, directly over you, scanning the courtyard to ensure that all is normal before she crosses to the eastern colonnade and disappears around the corner. She doesn't notice you at all, and once her footsteps have faded away, you drop the spell and nod to <<c sibellapartner>> to indicate that it's all right to move again. <<nobr>><<if $sibellapartner is "riel">> "Well done," he murmurs, nodding to you with obvious approval. If you didn't know any better, you'd even say he was impressed. "I presume that was some kind of invisibility spell? You'll have to walk me through the intricacies of it sometime." <<elseif $sibellapartner is "briony">> She turns to you, open-mouthed with awe. "What <i>was</i> that?" she whispers to you excitedly. "I've never felt anything like that sort of spell—it was like a mix of psionic and arcane magic, both! You didn't even need me to come with you at all: you've already worked out how to do master-level spells all on your own!" She squeezes your shoulder in silent praise before hurrying up to Sibella's front door. <<else>> Lavinet stirs and blinks at you, none the wiser as to what's transpired. "That seems like a useful trick, whatever you did," she says, arching her brows. "Sometimes I wonder why we need a spy and scout division at all, when Mages could simply infiltrate any old place with seemingly little trouble. Well, we can discuss it in more detail later. Let's get into Sibella's place before the guard returns." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'sibellasdoor'>>

You take a deep, steadying breath, gathering the magic in your mind like a rider bunching reins in their hands in preparation for a sudden hard ride. When the guard rounds the corner, you cast your magic at them like you're tossing a gossamer net over an unruly animal. The glittering strands of your magic land, spiderweb-like, against the guard's mind, taking immediate hold. You sense some glancing details about her—she's a stout, broad-shouldered woman with a shock of red curls shaved at the sides of her head, a district guard of three years, a loyalist to the Autarch and content enough with her life, dividing her time between the guard barracks and a small abode with her younger sister—before you pull your web tight, directing her thoughts to exactly where you want them to go. Now firmly in control, you deflect her attention away from you, rendering the guard unable to notice your presence as her regard slides off of you like water from a duck's back. You and <<c sibellapartner>> stand still, holding your breaths, as the guard's eyes slide indifferently and incuriously over you, then away again as she moves to the eastern colonnade and disappears again around the corner, humming quietly to herself. You and <<c sibellapartner>> turn to each other with an audible sigh of relief. <<nobr>><<if $sibellapartner is "riel">> "Well done," he murmurs, nodding to you with obvious approval. If you didn't know any better, you'd even say he was impressed. "It's always a bit terrifying to realize how all of our minds are potential putty in your hands, but it's a useful skill, to be sure." <<elseif $sibellapartner is "briony">> "That was brilliant," she whispers. "I'm dog-horrible at psionic magic and fiddling around with minds, so I could <i>never</i>. You didn't really need me to come with you at all, did you? You've got everything neatly and tidily in hand, as usual." She squeezes your shoulder in silent praise before hurrying up to Sibella's front door. <<else>> Lavinet stirs and blinks at you, having had no way to telling what it was you did exactly. "That seems like a useful trick, whatever you did," she says, arching her brows. "Though a bit terrifying, when one considers the implications. Well, no matter. Let's get into Sibella's place before she comes back." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'sibellasdoor'>>

You've never tried Shifting someone <i>else</i> into an object on such short notice before, but if there was ever a need for such a spell, now's the time. You grab <<nobr>><<if $sibellapartner is "riel">> Riel's hand before he can protest and transmute the both of you into a pair of garden chairs. <<elseif $sibellapartner is "lavinet">> Lavinet's hand before she can protest and transmute the both of you into a pair of garden chairs. <<else>> Briony's hand before she can protest and transmute the both of you into a pair of garden chairs. <</if>><</nobr>> You chose garden chairs because they seem like the least noticeable additions one could make to a courtyard like this one: statues or even new trees would need to have been installed by groundskeepers, a significant change the guard might have particular knowledge of. While you could technically transform into something even smaller and less detectable, like a pair of pebbles, such a large size difference between your human forms and that of tiny, compressed rocks would render the spell unstable and likely to fail. As it stands, it's already difficult enough to maintain it, because <<c sibellapartner>>—unprepared for the shock of suddenly shapeshifting into an inanimate object—instinctively struggles against the transmutation, <<nobr>><<if $sibellapartner is "riel">> with something resembling a drowner's silent panic and alarm as he's abruptly plunged into enveloping water. <<elseif $sibellapartner is "lavinet">> with something like a cry of alarm as she twists against the restraining nature of the spell. <<else>> with something like a muffled scream as she thrashes against the confines of the spell. <</if>><</nobr>> You hang on to the magic grimly, however, and it's not long before the guard rounds the corner, passes her gaze indifferently and incuriously over the courtyard—seemingly taking no notice of the pair of green iron-wrought chairs placed in the middle of it—and then crosses to the eastern colonnade and disappears again, her footsteps and the rattle of her sabre fading steadily away into the distance. You and <<c sibellapartner>> instantly pop back into your human forms, and <<nobr>><<if $sibellapartner is "riel">> Riel bends forward slightly, his hand loosening his cravat as he takes several deep, steadying breaths, trying to acclimate to the sensation of suddenly acquiring lungs again. <br><br> He looks at you shakily, and perhaps a little archly, as he says in an acerbic tone, "I understand the necessity, but surely there was a less… <i>jarring</i>… way for us to escape notice?" <br><br> You spread your hands, as if to say, <i>It worked, didn't it?</i>, and he sighs and shakes his head, straightening to his full height again and reaching up to fix his tie. "Well," he says crisply, smoothing his hair and straightening his sleeves as if nothing had happened, "it was a unique experience, at least." He indicates Sibella's front door. "Shall we?" <<elseif $sibellapartner is "lavinet">> Lavinet reaches up to clasp her throat, looking shaky and drawn as she pants for breath. Her eyes are wide and dilated as she attempts to regain her composure—as well as acclimate to the sensation of suddenly acquiring lungs again. <br><br> "That was <i>awful</i>," she says after a moment, swallowing thickly. "Is that how it always feels when you transform?" <br><br> "It feels different to turn into a living creature," you admit, "and I imagine being the one who has ultimate control of the spell is a different sensation that someone who doesn't. I'm usually concentrating so hard on how to maintain the shape that I don't notice the discomfort of actually <i>being</i> in it. Sorry about that." <br><br> She shakes her head faintly and, after a moment, says in a stronger tone: "Don't apologize for doing what you had to do. Thanks to that, we weren't noticed…" Then she glances around again and adds, "We should get inside before that guard or someone else returns. Shall we?" <<else>> Briony jumps, squirms, and dances in place, rubbing her arms as frantically as if an army of ants were crawling over her skin. <br><br> "Ooh, that was <i>horrible</i>!" she squeals, practically hopping on the spot in discomfort. "I <i>hated</i> that! Is that how it always feels when you transform? I thought I was going to be <i>sick</i>!" <br><br> "It feels different to turn into a living creature," you admit, "and I imagine being the one who has ultimate control of the spell is a different sensation that someone who doesn't. I'm usually concentrating so hard on how to maintain the shape that I don't notice the discomfort of actually <i>being</i> in it. Sorry about that." <br><br> Briony shakes her head furiously, her pink hair practically slapping her cheeks, as she says, "There isn't anything to <i>apologize</i> for, it was just… I wasn't expecting it! But I won't be a big baby about it." She hurries towards Sibella's front door and adds, "Let's just get inside before anyone else comes back and sees us!" <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'sibellasdoor'>>

Swift as a thought, you tense your body and let your mind flow into the transformation. You feel your bones shrink and your muscles tighten; the contours of your face shift as your whole body compacts. You turn yourself into a splotched calico cat with a dainty, innocent-looking face and a playfully-mobile tail. Your transmutation is so fluid and seamless that it takes a moment for <<c sibellapartner>> to react: <<nobr>><<if $sibellapartner is "riel">> for a moment, he simply stares down at you, clearly taken off-guard as you stare back up at him from this new and foreign angle. He suddenly looks huge and looming, an intimidating titan in a sharp dark suit. But then your perspective adjusts, your ears flick to take in the sounds of the approaching guard, and Riel is turning away to hurry—as silently as he's able—towards a discreetly-marked maintenance closet positioned on the other side of the courtyard. <<elseif $sibellapartner is "lavinet">> for a moment, she simply stares down at you, clearly startled as you stare back up at her from this new and foreign angle. She suddenly looks huge and looming, her black-and-white skirt as voluminous as a parachute. But then your perspective adjusts, your ears flick to take in the sounds of the approaching guard, and Lavinet is turning away to hurry—as silently as she's able—towards a discreetly-marked maintenance closet positioned on the other side of the courtyard. <<else>> for a moment, she simply gapes down at you, clearly surprised as you stare back up at her from this new and foreign angle. She suddenly looks huge and looming, her heeled boot feeling perilously close to stepping on you. But then your perspective adjusts, your ears flick to take in the sounds of the approaching guard, and Briony is turning away to hurry—as silently as she's able—towards a discreetly-marked maintenance closet positioned on the other side of the courtyard. <</if>><</nobr>> For your part, you scurry forward on soundless paws and round the corner to intercept the guard: a broad-shouldered, stout young woman with a shock of red curls shaved close to the sides of her head. She pauses just before coming into view of the courtyard and stares down at you, and for a moment, the two of you only gaze at each other blankly. Then the woman's lips quirk, and she says to you in soft tones, "Hello there, kitty cat. Where did you come from?" You approach her with the haughtiness of a monarch, mincing prettily as you wind your way between her legs and headbutt her shin. The guard hesitates, laughs, and then stoops to give you a pet. You instantly distance yourself, pulling away and washing your front paw as indifferently as if you'd never approached her at all. The guard is apparently delighted by your hot-and-cold demeanor. "Figures," she mutters to herself, stretching out her hand so you can scent her fingers: your senses are overwhelmed with the metallic tang that lingers on the skin after one grips a sword handle, plus the faint remnant of something like lemon charch. "Playing hard-to-get, are you? Well. You don't look like one of the nobles' pets, but you're no scarred tomcat, either. Are you a servant's mouser?" "Mrau," you tell her, rolling over to show her your belly. It's a bit humiliating if you view it from human terms, but you're able to distract the guard for several long moments as she talks nonsense to you. Then, feigning sudden disinterest, you roll back to your feet and trot quickly away, secreting yourself in the shadow of some bushes. You watch from your hiding spot as the guard rises back to her feet, stretches, and then continues on her way. She passes through the now-empty courtyard, glances incuriously around, and then makes her way to the eastern colonnade before rounding the corner and disappearing once more, your sharp ears tracking the sounds of her footsteps as they fade away into the distance. Once you're sure that you're alone again, you transform back into yourself and make your over to the maintenance closet, knocking softly to give the all-clear. <<nobr>><<if $sibellapartner is "riel">> Riel leans warily out of the door, scanning the courtyard for himself before he fully emerges, fussily straightening his suit and sleeves and smoothing his hair back into its usual sleek perfection. "Well," he says dryly, "that was certainly a surprise. How often do you take a form like that? Because there's a cat who's always pawing at my office window…" <br><br> You laugh at the implication. "That one's not me. It <i>is</i> a lot of fun to take on animal shapes, but it's a huge strain on both the mind and body. I can't maintain it for as long as, say, a Changeling can." <br><br> "Hmm," Riel says, giving you a somewhat skeptical side glance. Then his lips quirk as he adds, "Well, it's a useful disguise for situations like these. But now we should get inside before that guard returns. Shall we?" <<elseif $sibellapartner is "lavinet">> Lavinet emerges swiftly and with dignity, already smoothing back her elegant curls and straightening her white gloves. "Well," she says, giving you a sidelong look, "I have to admit that was an adorable surprise. Do you assume that form often?" <br><br> You smile and shake your head. "It's a lot of fun to take on animal shapes, but it's a huge strain on both the mind and body. I can't maintain it for as long as, say, a Changeling could." <br><br> "Hmm," Lavinet says thoughtfully. "But your fur looked so soft. You could curl up in someone's lap and bask in the attention all afternoon…" Then she blinks, shakes her head, and continues, "Well, we can talk about all that later. For now, we should get inside De Vespe's apartments before anyone else shows up." <<else>> Briony scrambles out of the closet, looking harried as well as positively crestfallen that you're no longer in cat-form. <br><br> "But you were so <i>adorable</i>," she says in longing tones. "I just wanted to scoop you up and cuddle you! Could you turn into that shape again when we're back at the compound?" <br><br> You laugh at the thought. "Whatever for?" <br><br> Briony blushes. "Well, so everyone could fawn over you, of course! You were so cute!" Then she shakes her head and adds, "Well, I'll convince you of it later. For now, let's get into De Vespe's place before anyone else shows up!" <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'sibellasdoor'>>

There are always birds around, especially in the city, and the nearby male crow perched on the eaves of the courtyard and pecking desultorily away at a bit of leaf is no exception. At your silent request, he immediately takes flight, winging around the corner before the guard can walk around it… <i>What do ya want me to do?</i> the large corvid asks you cheerfully. <i>Whatever it takes to distract them</i>, you answer, grabbing <<nobr>><<if $sibellapartner is "riel">> Riel's hand and dragging him over to the discreetly-marked maintenance closet on the other side of the courtyard. <<elseif $sibellapartner is "lavinet">> Lavinet's hand and dragging her over to the discreetly-marked maintenance closet on the other side of the courtyard. <<else>> Briony's hand and dragging her over to the discreetly-marked maintenance closet on the other side of the courtyard. <</if>><</nobr>> The crow gives you a mental salute and proceeds with his first instinct… Voiding his bowels neatly and summarily onto the guard's shoulder. You hear her exclamations and cries of disgust just as you open the closet door and shove <<c sibellapartner>> in. You're able to swiftly and silently shut yourselves in—narrowly avoiding knocking over a pair of brooms in the process—just as you hear the guard yell angrily, "You kakking—what the hell!" You almost feel sorry for her as you sense, through your mental connection, the crow alighting on a high-up branch and cawing out a series of braying laughs as he sits and watches the guard react to his "special delivery." Through his eyes, you watch as the guard—a broad-shouldered young woman with a shock of curly red hair—draws out a handkerchief from her pocket and tries, in vain, to wipe her right shoulder clean. The crow gives another delighted cackle and says to you, <i>That'll keep her busy, all right. </i> <i>I was more thinking you would dive-bomb her or peck at her hair a bit…</i> <i>Why bother, when a much more effective and elegant solution was at hand? Besides, she always throws rocks at us. </i> The two of you watch as the guard—with another exclamation of disgust—turns and continues walking around the corner, coming into full view of the now-empty courtyard. You hold your breath, waiting to see if she'll hurry across it and leave in her desire to go clean herself up… Until another voice calls out to her from the other side of the courtyard. <<nobr>><<if $sibellapartner is "briony">> In the darkness, you see Briony wince. <<elseif $sibellapartner is "riel">> In the darkness, you see Riel roll his eyes. <<else>> In the darkness, you see Lavinet shake her head. <</if>><</nobr>> More bad luck. <<include 'crowclosettension'>>

It's monstrously risky to translocate yourselves into a location that you've never been to before: without knowing the exact size and dimensions of the closet, let alone what's in it, you could end up materializing halfway through a wall or with an upright broomstick poking up through your shoulder. However, it's such a quick jump—no more than fifteen feet—that you think you can haul yourselves away to a safer location in the last seconds before you fully solidify, if need be. So you grab <<c sibellapartner>>'s hand and blink out of existence before the guard can fully round the corner and see you. You phase straight through the door on the other side of the courtyard and into the closet, flashing back into solid form in breathless, staggering silence; your mind scrambles to reorient itself and determine that you do indeed have enough room to properly materialize just as your limbs tingle and prickle back into solid existence. You let out a breath of relief—safe, for now—as <<nobr>><<if $sibellapartner is "lavinet">> Lavinet sags slightly against the closet door, looking winded as her mind tries to adjust to your new position. <<elseif $sibellapartner is "riel">> Riel presses his ear against the closet door, shaking his head like someone with swimmer's ear as his mind tries to adjust to your new position. <<else>> Briony sags clumsily against you, looking startled as her mind tries to adjust to your new position. <</if>><</nobr>> The two of you tense as you hear the heavy, jangling footsteps turn around the corner and enter the now-empty courtyard. Only the barest slit of light under the closet door is visible, so you can only guess the guard's position and manner by hearing alone; you hold your breaths as they walk briskly into the courtyard, seemingly failing to notice that anything is amiss, and apparently make their way towards the eastern colonnade, as if intent on exiting and continuing on their usual rounds… Until a voice calls out from the other side of the courtyard. You and <<c sibellapartner>> look at each other in the darkness, eyes wide. More bad luck. <<include 'teleportclosettension'>>

It's not easy to do when you can't even see the guard in question, but doing rapidfire calculations in your head, you're able to estimate exactly where you should place the tripwire and sketch out a linear rune in the air, pulling the thing into existence as if you're yanking twine from a spool. An invisible cord drops into existence right in front of the guard's feet, snaking up to tangle around her ankles and calves and sending her crashing to the ground with a startled cry. "<i>What</i> the—" You grab <<c sibellapartner>>'s hand and dart towards a discreetly-marked maintenance closet positioned on the other side of the courtyard. The guard continues to curse as she heaves herself up from the ground—your tripwire dissolves into the thin air as she scrambles up, leaving no trace of its existence behind—and the debacle buys you just enough time to swiftly and stealthily secret yourselves into the closet before she can round the corner. Muttering curses still—"<i>What the fuck was</i>—? These slagging boots are always tangling up, standard-issue my <i>ass</i>"—the guard finally rounds the corner and comes into view of the now-empty courtyard. Only the barest slit of light under the closet door is visible, so you can only guess the guard's position and manner by hearing alone; you hold your breaths as she stumps heavily into the courtyard, seemingly failing to notice that anything is amiss, and apparently makes her way towards the eastern colonnade, as if intent on exiting and continuing on her usual rounds… Until another voice calls out to her from the other side of the courtyard. <<nobr>><<if $sibellapartner is "briony">> In the darkness, you see Briony wince. <<elseif $sibellapartner is "riel">> In the darkness, you see Riel roll his eyes. <<else>> In the darkness, you see Lavinet shake her head. <</if>><</nobr>> More bad luck. <<include 'tripwireclosettension'>>

Briony's brows draw together as you take her hand, but she follows you trustingly into the shadows of the arched colonnade furthest away from where the guard will emerge. But she's clearly not expecting what you do next: you turn to her, cup her cheek, and then clasp her close in a swift, passionate kiss. At first, you feel Briony freeze up in surprise in your arms, her lips initially stiff as she stifles a gasp against your mouth. Soon enough, however, she's melting into your embrace, returning the kiss enthusiastically—you almost wonder if she's forgotten about the guard entirely. Your senses are overwhelmed with the warm, sweet fragrance of her, the summery peach blossom scent of her hair, the slight taste of glossy maquillage on her lips. Her arms wind around your neck, pressing you closer, and the tips of your tongues touch as Briony eagerly deepens the kiss. It's a heady sensation, and all the points of contact between your bodies seem to burn with excitement and pleasure: you can feel Briony's chest moving against yours, the way she shifts from foot to foot as if wanting to hitch her leg around your hip… An awkward cough breaks the two of you apart, breathing raggedly: Briony has an appropriately shell-shocked and dazed look on her face, her lips already reddening from your kiss. The guard—a stout, broad-shouldered young woman with a shock of red curls shaved close to the sides of her head—stands with hump-shouldered awkwardness, looking pained, as if she'd rather be anywhere but here. She's somewhat averted her gaze from you out of embarrassment and the cringeing acknowledgment of catching you in a compromising condition. So far she hasn't seemed to notice that you're both Diminished… and that you really don't look as if you belong here. For all you know, she stumbles across illicit lovers meeting in secret dalliances and hidden corners every single day. "So sorry," you say, not even having to pretend at your sudden breathlessness. You strive to make your tone as awkward and forced as possible. "We, ah… we're attending a party upstairs, we just decided to step out for a moment… for a… breather…" "That's all right. I don't need all the details," the guard cuts in, grimacing. Her gray eyes seem to look everywhere but at you as she adds, "Erm… I'll just… leave you to it." And with that, she backs away carefully, looking at the ground as if you're an ape who might charge her in a display of dominance if she lingers here any longer. She practically trips in her attempts to make herself scarce and hurries off. Briony turns to you delightedly, though the color is high in her face for more reasons than just being impressed. "I can't believe that worked," she says to you in a whisper. "Who says you need spies and assassins like Chase or Blade? Just make out with your partner any time you get close to getting caught, and you have any easy getaway ticket." "I think it's important that the performance is convincing," you tell her in low, humorous tones, causing her to blush even further. She looks at you, at your lips again, almost as if she's hopeful for a continuation, before she shakes her head and slaps her hands against her cheeks in a stinging attempt to shake herself out of her daze. "Well," she says with forced breeziness, "let's get inside before someone else comes around and we're forced to take our clothes off." <<nobr>><<if ($brionyromance is true) or ($brionyromanceflag >= 30)>> <br><br> But she casts you a flirtatious, playful glance over her shoulder as she hurries to Sibella's door… almost as if she's promising you an Act 2 later on. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'sibellasdoor'>>

Riel, for once, looks utterly blank as you take his hand, but he follows trustingly as you draw him into the shadows of the colonnade farthest from where the guard will emerge. But he's clearly not expecting what you do next: you turn to him, cup his cheek, and then draw him close for a swift and passionate kiss. At first, you feel Riel stiffen in surprise, his lips tense and frozen as he tries to process what's going on. Soon enough, however, he relaxes minutely in your arms, lifting his hands to hesitantly place them on your shoulders as he responds to your kiss. Your senses take in the cool mint on his breath, the clean, expensive smells of his suit and pomade and that blackcurrant-and-brandy scent of his cologne… and slowly but surely, Riel responds in kind, his hands exploring your chest, slip around your waist to draw you closer. He gasps slightly when you nip at his bottom lip, and the sound he makes when you wind your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck is almost enough to set your nerves on fire… An awkward cough breaks the two of you apart, breathing raggedly: Riel blinks hard, as if he were emerging from a darkened gambling den after a night's debauchery and is dazzled by the sudden sunlight. The guard—a stout, broad-shouldered young woman with a shock of red curls shaved close to the sides of her head—stands with hump-shouldered awkwardness, looking pained, as if she'd rather be anywhere but here. She's somewhat averted her gaze from you out of embarrassment and the cringing acknowledgment of catching you in a compromising condition. If she's noticed that you're Diminished or in a Shepherd's uniform, she gives no sign… In fact, she might even believe that's why you and Riel are kissing secretly in this hidden nook to begin with. No doubt she stumbles across lovers embroiled in illicit and clandestine affairs all the time. "So sorry," you say, not even having to pretend at your sudden breathlessness. You strive to make your tone as awkward and forced as possible. "We, ah… we're attending a party upstairs, we just decided to step out for a moment… for a… breather…" "That's all right. I don't need all the details," the guard cuts in, grimacing. Her gray eyes seem to look everywhere but at you as she adds, "Erm… I'll just… leave you to it." And with that, she backs away carefully, looking at the ground as if you're an ape who might charge her in a display of dominance if she lingers here any longer. She practically trips in her attempts to make herself scarce and hurries off. Riel turns to you, momentarily speechless, before he shakes his head and murmurs, "You do continue to surprise me with the unorthodoxy of your methods." You wink at him. "But they do work, don't they?" He snorts. "I suppose I can't deny that. Though it would have only worked if the performance was…" He looks away, almost blushing. "…Convincing." "And I knew it would be," you purr back, causing him to actually blush now. Clearing his throat, he straightens his cravat and says stiffly, looking determinedly towards Sibella's front door: "We should get inside before anyone else comes back." <<nobr>><<if (($rielromance is true) or ($rielromanceflag >= 30))>> <br><br> He hurries over, though not before sneaking a quick glance at you (and more specifically, your lips) again, an expression of something like frustrated longing and regret on his face. No doubt he's annoyed with himself for being more interested in a repeat performance instead of work right now. A rare occurrence, indeed. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'sibellasdoor'>>

Lavinet already seems to have an inkling of what you intend as she allows you to draw her into the shadows of the colonnade, so she already has a slight knowing smirk on her lips as you turn to her, clasping her hand. You cup her cheek, moving side the weight of her beautiful hair, and then clasp her close as you capture her lips in a swift, passionate kiss. Lavinet returns your kiss with languid, but eager enthusiasm. She immediately leans against you, melting into your arms as she deepens the kiss with a sigh of satisfied pleasure, as if you've finally given her something she's been awaiting for a long time. Your senses are overwhelmed with her presence and proximity, taking in the jasmine-and-bergamot perfume dabbed on her neck and between her cleavage, the slight powdery scent of her maquillage, the soft warmth of her as she presses up against you and her lips move teasingly against yours. Lavinet's hand slip like water over your shoulders, wandering down your chest before reaching up to scrape her nails lightly against the back of your neck, making you shiver. Her lips part to deepen the kiss further, and you feel the touch of your tongue with an electric thrill that threatens to set you on fire… An awkward cough breaks the two of you apart, breathing raggedly: Lavinet immediately draws her fan to cover her bruised, tender lips, the very picture of a guilty noble jumping to protect her reputation. The guard—a stout, broad-shouldered young woman with a shock of red curls shaved close to the sides of her head—stands with hump-shouldered awkwardness, looking pained, as if she'd rather be anywhere but here. She's somewhat averted her gaze from you out of embarrassment and the cringing acknowledgment of catching you in a compromising condition. If she's noticed that you're Diminished or in a Shepherd's uniform, she gives no sign… In fact, she might even believe that's why you and Lavinet are kissing secretly in this hidden nook to begin with. No doubt she stumbles across lovers embroiled in illicit and clandestine affairs all the time. "So sorry," you say, not even having to pretend at your sudden breathlessness. You strive to make your tone as awkward and forced as possible. "We, ah… we're attending a party upstairs, we just decided to step out for a moment… for a… breather…" "That's all right. I don't need all the details," the guard cuts in, grimacing. Her gray eyes seem to look everywhere but at you as she adds, "Erm… I'll just… leave you to it." And with that, she backs away carefully, looking at the ground as if you're an ape who might charge her in a display of dominance if she lingers here any longer. She practically trips in her attempts to make herself scarce and hurries off. Lavinet turns to you with a little laugh, striving to remain the picture of composure and worldliness as she says nonchalantly, "Well! Who knew you were such an excellent performer, along with your many other accolades?" You smirk at her. "Who says it was a performance?" Lavinet merely smiles and shakes her head, but the way she fans herself—and her slight breathlessness—give away her true feelings. She sails perfunctorily over to Sibella's front door, but when she glances back at you, you see how her burgundy eyes drop to your lips again before she looks quickly away, as if she'd given away a grave secret. If you didn't know any better, you'd think she might even be blushing. <<include 'sibellasdoor'>>

Riel straightens, like a soldier being called to arms, and before the guard can round the corner, he calls out in a sharp, impatient tone: "Is that you, Breden?" You hear a confused pause in the guard's steps before they—she—fully comes into view. It's a stout, broad-shouldered young woman with a shock of red curls shaved close to the sides of her head: her flinty gray eyes move alertly from you to Riel, and while you are obviously Diminished, you wonder if she can tell that he's a part of the <i>nouveau-riche</i> merchant class rather than a true noble. He doesn't dress as ostentatiously as one, but his bearing and posture declare strongly that he belongs here. "Just me, my lord," the guard calls back, wary but deferential. Again, her eyes move from you to Riel, trying to make sense of what you're doing here. Still, this is a residential building, not a closely-guarded bank vault: she must see dozens of visitors pass through here every day, and there's nothing to indicate you weren't admitted by the servants at the front entrance. Riel turns away from her, dismissively. "I see. Well, be on your way. We will be holding a private meeting here forthwith." The guard stares stupidly, but not suspiciously: no doubt this is fairly common treatment from Sun Courtiers. To her credit, she does try to do her job… "Erm… forgive me, my lord, but only because it's my job… but <i>who</i> are you?" Riel turns his head, silent, and gives her a snake-like glare in response. He doesn't even need to say anything: through expression and body language alone, he somehow manages to convey exactly the story you want her to believe. That he's someone important, that he belongs here, that you're up to some Sun Court intrigue, and she's <i>really</i> better off not knowing the details. Not if she wants to value her job or her life… The guard actually physically backs away from you, as if she feels she's wandered into a pack of lions. "Erm… right," she says submissively, clearly not wishing to seem more impertinent. "I'll just… let you have your privacy." Then she hurries away, almost tripping in an attempt to make herself scarce. You toss Riel an impressed look, raising your eyebrows; he merely smirks at you, tipping his head, before he strides over to Sibella's front door, straightening his tie in a business-like manner. <<include 'sibellasdoor'>>

Lavinet draws herself up, almost preening as you watch her don her noblewoman's airs like a queen settling a mantle around her shoulders. When the guard—a stout, broad-shouldered young woman with a shock of red curls shaved close to the sides of her head—rounds the corner, the first thing she sees is Lavinet Naveen standing there, looking exactly as if she owns the place. The guard slows as she spots you, but her gaze remains deferential and respectful rather than challenging: this is, after all, a residential building where many noble guests come and go, not a closely-guarded bank vault or military prison. The woman's flinty gray eyes flick towards you and your uniform, but she addresses Lavinet in a mild enough voice: "Good day, my lady. Is there anything I can help you with?" "Nothing at all, thank you," Lavinet returns, inclining her head imperiously. "I am awaiting Lady Evadne Orciene. We are visiting her brother nearby." "Ah," the guard says, somewhat blankly. "And, forgive me, it's only that I have to ask… you are…?" Now a trace of impatience enters Lavinet's expression, but she answers evenly enough: "I am her patron, of course." "Of course," the guard sputters, overly-aware of annoying a noble who could easily get her fired for impertinence. "Very good, my lady. Well… if there's anything you need…" She trails off awkwardly as Lavinet simply stands and stares at her in silence. Blushing, the guard ducks her head and hurries away, barely sparing you a second glance as she makes herself scarce. No doubt she encounters dozens of such visitors to this building every day. You glance at Lavinet, impressed; she merely winks at you before moving in a stately fashion to Lady De Vespe's front door. <<include 'sibellasdoor'>>

Briony gives you an incredulous look as you stand, still and calm, returning her stare expectantly. Her mouth pops open when she realizes that you're expecting <i>her</i> to do something, and it's with that expression that she turns to stare blankly at the guard who rounds the corner and comes into sight of you both. The guard is a stout, broad-shouldered young woman with a shock of red curls shaved close at the sides of her head. Her flinty gray eyes move from you to Briony, her gaze at first slack and incurious—this is a residential building, after all, not a closely-guarded bank or prison—before she registers your uniform and Briony's pink hair, and begins to notice the <i>Diminished-ness</i> of your overall appearance. Her eyes harden as it begins to dawn on her that you do not resemble the type of visitors who normally come to Aubade Residence. "Ehm," Briony begins, high and nervous. "Um, ah—hallo there!" She grimaces at the unnatural pitch and affected cheer of her own voice. "Could you, erm, help us? We seem to have… gotten lost…" The guard approaches, not quite at her ease but clearly not deeming you a particular threat, especially with the way Briony just greeted her. "What are you looking for?" "We were told to meet, um, Lady Prihine Naveen in her apartment at two," Briony blurts in a rush. "She lives here, doesn't she?" The guard's brow furrows. "Can't say I've heard that name before. You sure you have the right place?" "Oh, I do hope so. We've got the invitation with the address… do you recognize it?" Briony nudges you, and you dutifully rummage into your pocket in the pretense of searching for the invitation. The guard draws even closer, her brow furrowing as she watches your movements, and you almost miss the lightning-fast blur of Briony's arm snaking out and wrapping around the poor woman's neck in an instant choke-hold. The woman sputters in shocked protest, but with Briony's supernatural strength, it's only a few moments before the guard is slumped at your feet, silent and insensate. "Oh," you say as Briony kneels down to check on the woman, looking flustered, "I… wasn't quite expecting you to do <i>that</i>…" "I couldn't think of what else to do!" Briony answers, sounding aggrieved. "I panicked!" She lays her hands on the woman's forehead, brow knit in concentration; you hazily get a sense of what she's doing and can't help but say, a bit shocked: "Are you sure that's a good idea?" She's clumsily extracting the woman's memory of this encounter and shoving in a new memory of 'getting sleepy and deciding to take a nap on a nearby bench,' but psionic magic has never been Briony's strong suit. Still, she seems to do an okay-enough job of it before she stands abruptly, wiping her hands as if she'd been rummaging around in a garbage can, and says in a pained voice, "Look, it's important that she doesn't report that we were here, right? It'll just have to do!" You drag the guard over to a stone bench conveniently secreted away behind some bushes, concealing her from view, before you hurry over to Sibella's front door, intent on getting inside before Briony has to choke anyone else into unconsciousness. <<include 'sibellasdoor'>>

<<page_break "Next" "teleportclosettension1">>

"Rinco, is that you?" Both pairs of footsteps now walk towards each other, and the guard and this new interloper—a man in his thirties with a high, nervous voice—seem to meet in the middle of the courtyard, not a stone's throw away from your closet. They're oblivious to your presence, but it seems you're stuck here for as long as they feel like holding a conversation with each other. <<include "closettension">>

<<page_break "Next" "tripwireclosettension1">>

"Rinco, is that you?" Both pairs of footsteps walk towards each other, and the guard and this new interloper—a man in his thirties with a high, nervous voice—seem to meet in the middle of the courtyard, not a stone's throw away from your closet. They're oblivious to your presence, at least for now, but it seems you're stuck here for as long as they feel like holding a conversation with each other. There's a slight pause before the man adds, "Lord, what's happened to you?" "Tripped on summat," the guard Rinco snaps, with a scuffing sound that indicates she's dusting off her gloves. "That's all." "Ah, I see…" <<include "closettension">>

<<page_break "Next" "closetcrowtension">>

"Rinco, is that you?" Both pairs of footsteps walk towards each other, and the guard and this new interloper—a man in his thirties with a high, nervous voice—seem to meet in the middle of the courtyard, not a stone's throw away from your closet. They're oblivious to your presence, but it seems you're stuck here for as long as they feel like holding a conversation with each other. There's a slight pause before the man adds, "Lord, what's happened to you?" "Bird," the guard Rinco answers bitterly. "Slagging crow up there. You don't have an extra kerchief on you, do you?" "Ah, let me see…" The two of them spend a few moments fussing; you feel the crow, growing bored now with the display, wing off and go back to whatever he was doing before you asked for his help. <<include "closettension">>

They exchange a few moments of casual chitchat before Rinco says suddenly, "But what are you doing here? I thought your master was returning to Leore, and you with him." "Ah, he's decided to delay his departure by a few more days. Rumor has it that a <i>certain personage</i> is due to arrive back in Haven at any moment, and that'll be sure to stir up all manner of interesting things…" "Who's this certain personage, then?" "Oh, I really shouldn't say…" "Don't tell me you're holding out on me now!" "Well, I'll give you a hint: he's returning from a stint at Camp Aeturnal, no one wants him here, and it's going to be a very awkward dinner tonight…" "<i>No</i>! <i>He's</i> come back?" As they banter back and forth, you feel your body relaxing as it becomes clear they have no intention of investigating your closet or otherwise doing anything that could lead to your discovery. Now it's just a waiting game. <<nobr>><<if ((($sibellapartner is "riel") and ($riel >= 85) and (($rielromanceflag >= 30) or ($rielromance is true)) and ($aroace is false) and ($ace is false) or ($rielromance is true)))>> Riel shifts then, and with the movement comes the sudden arrowing awareness of just how <i>close</i> the two of you are crammed together. You hadn't properly noticed when all of your attention was bent on the movements of the guard outside, but now you become acutely aware of the intimacy of your current positions. The closet is barely big enough to fit one of you, let alone two: positioned as you are to not knock any of the supplies off of the shelves, you're forced to lean over Riel with your arms bracketing him on both sides, your chests barely touching as you hover over him and one of his legs positioned awkwardly between both of yours as his outer thigh brushes against your inner. You can feel each breath he draws in, cool and minted; your senses are filled with the clean, expensive scent of his clothes, the smooth brandy-and-blackcurrent notes of his cologne. Each point of contact between both of your bodies sends an electric frisson of excitement and awareness across your skin: conversely, a slow simmer of heat seems to rise up from your blood to engulf you in a kind of sleepy pleasure. <br><br> From his expression, Riel seems to feel the tension between you, too—doubtless he was already aware of it before you were, from the way he presses up against the door and avoids your gaze like an unsure schoolboy. For a moment, the two of you breathe together in the darkness; you take in the fringe of dark lashes surrounding his ice-blue eyes, the sharp pale prow of his throat, the way his lips part ever so slightly when your eyes drop to them… <br><br> You can't help but smirk down at Riel mischievously, aware of the absurdity and irony of your current position as the two strangers outside yammer on in blissful oblivion. Riel looks away again for a moment, seeming flustered, before you see him chastise himself for backing down from the challenge and force himself to look back at you, his blue eyes steady and clear even in the dimness of the closet. Now he has a faint, self-deprecating, amused smile on his face as he shakes his head slightly and shrugs, as if to say, <i>We really shouldn't, but…</i> <br><br> <i>But.</i> <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Kiss him.</div>' 'autogenerated_686300'>><<set $rielromanceflag += 3>><<setloyal -5>><<setcourage +1>><</link>> <<if $charisma >= 80>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Tempt him into kissing you.</div>' 'autogenerated_686301'>><<set $rielromanceflag += 3>><<setloyal -5>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Lean away. You should keep things professional while on a mission.</div>' 'autogenerated_686302'>><<setriel +1>><<setloyal +3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <<elseif ((($sibellapartner is "briony") and ($briony >= 85) and (($brionyromanceflag >= 30) or ($brionyromance is true)) and ($aroace is false) and ($ace is false)))>> Briony shifts then, and with the movement comes the sudden arrowing awareness of just how <i>close</i> the two of you are crammed together. You hadn't properly noticed when all of your attention was bent on the movements of the guard outside, but now you become acutely aware of the intimacy of your current positions. The closet is barely big enough to fit one of you, let alone two: positioned as you are to not knock any of the supplies off of the shelves, you're forced to lean over Briony with your arms bracketing her on both sides, your chests barely touching as you hover over her and one of your legs positioned awkwardly between hers as she practically straddles your thigh. You can feel each breath she draws in, warm and sweet; your senses are filled with the summery peach blossom scents of her hair, the slight hint of glossy maquillage touching her lips. Each point of contact between both of your bodies sends an electric frisson of excitement and awareness across your skin: conversely, a slow simmer of heat seems to rise up from your blood to engulf you in a kind of sleepy pleasure. <br><br> You gaze down into Briony's eyes and watch as she blushes prettily, clearly affected by the same tension you're feeling. For a moment, the two of you breathe together in the darkness; you take in the dilated, fascinated hunger in Briony's half-lidded eyes, the slight, straining movement of her chest lifting and rising against yours as she draws in quick breaths, the twinkling crystal drops dangling at her ears as she shivers, the way her lips part eagerly when your eyes drop to them… <br><br> You can't help but smirk down at Briony mischievously, aware of the absurdity and irony of your current position as the two strangers outside yammer on in blissful oblivion. Briony bites her lip in return, practically squirming with unspoken feeling, as she glances from your face to the door she's propped up against, clearly weighing the risks of what she wants to do. Her eyes practically beg you to make the decision for her, to give her what she clearly wants. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Kiss her.</div>' 'autogenerated_686303'>><<set $brionyromanceflag += 5>><<setloyal -5>><<setcourage +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Tempt her into kissing you.</div>' 'autogenerated_686304'>><<set $brionyromanceflag += 5>><<setloyal -5>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Lean away. You should keep things professional while on a mission.</div>' 'autogenerated_686305'>><<setbriony -3>><<set $brionyromanceflag -= 1>><<setloyal +3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <<elseif ((($sibellapartner is "lavinet") and ($lavinet >= 85) and (($lavinetromanceflag >= 30) or ($lavinetromance is true)) and ($aroace is false) and ($ace is false)))>> Lavinet shifts then, and with the movement comes the sudden arrowing awareness of just how <i>close</i> the two of you are crammed together. You hadn't properly noticed when all of your attention was bent on the movements of the guard outside, but now you become acutely aware of the intimacy of your current positions. The closet is barely big enough to fit one of you, let alone two: positioned as you are to not knock any of the supplies off of the shelves, you're forced to lean over Lavinet with your arms bracketing her on both sides, your chests barely touching as you hover over her and one of your legs positioned awkwardly between hers as she practically straddles your thigh. You can feel each breath she draws in, spiced and fragrant; your senses are filled with the jasmine and bergamot scents dabbed on her neck and between her cleavage, the slight powdery hint of her maquillage and rouge underneath it. Each point of contact between both of your bodies sends an electric frisson of excitement and awareness across your skin: conversely, a slow simmer of heat seems to rise up from your blood to engulf you in a kind of sleepy pleasure. <br><br> You gaze into Lavinet's eyes and watch as her eyelids fall to half-mast, amused and knowing; she's clearly as affected by your proximity as you are to hers, though she tries to play it wry and cool. For a moment, the two of you breathe together in the darkness; you take in the way Lavinet's eyes wander interestedly, searchingly, over your features, as if she's trying to extract your innermost thoughts for her perusal. The slight, straining movement of her chest lifting and rising against yours as she keeps her breath steady. The way she runs a tongue against her plush, painted lips when your eyes drop to them… <br><br> You can't help but smirk down at Lavinet mischievously, aware of the absurdity and irony of your current position as the two strangers outside yammer on in blissful oblivion. Lavinet has an expression as if she wants to give a throaty chuckle in response—and then, boldly, almost teasingly, she lifts a hand and traces a gloved finger consideringly against the line of your jaw. She's clearly contemplating the same thing you are. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Kiss her.</div>' 'autogenerated_686306'>><<set $lavinetromanceflag += 5>><<setloyal -5>><<setcourage +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Tempt her into kissing you.</div>' 'autogenerated_686307'>><<set $lavinetromanceflag += 5>><<setloyal -5>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Lean away. You should keep things professional while on a mission.</div>' 'autogenerated_686308'>><<setlavinet -5>><<set $lavinetromanceflag -= 5>><<setloyal +3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <<elseif $sibellapartner is "briony">> However, it's not long before Briony begins to sniffle. The closet that you're trapped in is exceedingly dusty, and the two of you are cramped so closely together that you're forced to prop yourself up on the door behind her, practically trapping Briony between the brackets of your arms as she huddles up against the closet door. The space is so tight that your chests are practically crushed together, and as Briony's sniffles increase, you realize that she doesn't even have the space to bring her hand or a kerchief up to her nose. <br><br> Suddenly she gives you a look that's in turns desperate, pleading, and alarmed. You stare back at her, equally alarmed by the expression on her face, as she begins to shake her head frantically, blinking hard. At your confused look, she pinches her eyes shut and whispers soundlessly, "<i>It's dusty in here</i>—" <br><br> Is she about to sneeze?! <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Hiss viciously at her. "<i>Hold it in, you bitch</i>!"</div>' 'autogenerated_686309'>><<setcompassionate -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Quickly pinch her nose.</div>' 'autogenerated_686310'>><<setcunning +1>><<setbriony +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Stare at her helplessly.</div>' 'autogenerated_686311'>><<setintelligence -1>><<setcunning -1>><<setloyal -1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <<elseif $sibellapartner is "lavinet">> However, it's not long before you hear a slight scrabbling sound, so faint and imperceptible at first that you almost think you're imagining it. Initially you think it's coming from outside—then you realize it's inside the closet with you—and then you see the largest, most robust rat you've ever seen in your life ambling unconcernedly onto a shelf directly above Lavinet's head. The two of you are cramped so closely together that you've been forced to prop yourself up on the door behind her, practically trapping the noblewoman between the brackets of your arms as she huddles up against the closet door. The space is so tight that your chests are practically crushed together, and Lavinet doesn't even have the room to raise her arms as you both watch in increasing horror as the rat peers down from its shelf with interest. From this vantage point, it seems perfectly poised to drop directly onto Lavinet's head. <br><br> Lavinet meets your gaze, her dark eyes unusually wide with muted panic and alarm, and she shakes her head silently, frantically, as if <i>you</i> have anything to do with the appearance of this rat. It's like the plea of a supplicant to a cruel and uncaring god. <br><br> Uh-oh. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if ($specialization is "wild") or ($psionic >= 65)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Tell the rat, in no uncertain terms, to leave you alone.</div>' 'autogenerated_686312'>><<setlavinet +3>><<setmagic +1>><<setpsionic +1>><</link>><</if>> <<if not (($specialization is "wild") or ($psionic >= 65))>><div class="inactive-item">Tell the rat, in no uncertain terms, to leave you alone.</div><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Wave your hand above Lavinet's head in an attempt to ward off the rat.</div>' 'autogenerated_686313'>><<setlavinet +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Bombs away! The rat jumps with confident aplomb onto Lavinet's head.</div>' 'autogenerated_686314'>><<setlavinet -5>><<setloyal -3>><<setcompassionate -1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <<elseif $sibellapartner is "riel">> However, it's not long before you notice something… unpleasant. In your haste to enter the closet and your keenness not to get caught, you didn't take much note of your surroundings until now. The closet that you're trapped in is exceedingly dusty and crowded, and the two of you are cramped so closely together that you're forced to prop yourself up on the door behind Riel, practically trapping the slender businessman between the brackets of your arms as he huddles up against the closet door. The space is so tight that your chests are practically crushed together, and as he gives you one of his unimpressed glares—a displeased expression that isn't particularly directed at you, but more at the discomfort of the situation—you realize that he doesn't even have the space to raise his hands above hip level. <br><br> That's unfortunate for him, because directly above Riel's head lies a shelf… and upon that shelf is a small can of paint that has evidently tipped or rolled over onto its side. As you watch, a small puddle of white pigment oozes out of the leaking can… and once it reaches the edge of the shelf, that paint is poised to drip directly onto Riel's neat black head. <br><br> He hasn't seemed to notice his predicament yet, his attention focused both on the inherent awkwardness of your positions as well as the details of the conversation outside. And you can't exactly warn him to dodge the paint: there's no room in the closet to maneuver without knocking something over and attraction the attention of the people outside. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if ($magic >= 30) and ($astral >= 10)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Use your magic to shield Riel's head.</div>' 'autogenerated_686315'>><<setmagic +1>><<setriel +5>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>><</if>> <<if not (($magic >= 30) and ($astral >= 10))>><div class="inactive-item">Use your magic to shield Riel's head.</div><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Try to use your hand to redirect the paint.</div>' 'autogenerated_686316'>><<setriel +5>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Stare at him in silent horror of what's to come. "I'm so sorry."</div>' 'autogenerated_686317'>><<setriel -8>><<setloyal -2>><<setcompassionate -1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $rielromanceflag >= 10>><<set $rielromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</nobr>>It takes nothing at all—a mere flicker of thought—to summon an invisible shield over Riel's head, redirecting the paint and causing it to flow harmlessly off to the side. Riel, finally registering what's going on, relaxes with a sigh of relief and grants you an immensely grateful look; of all the Shepherds, he tolerates mess and untidiness the least. Sometimes he can barely abide having his pens arranged in any order except according to size and thickness, so you can't imagine he'd be at his best being completely coated and tarred in white paint. The two of you wait in breathless silence while you wait for the conversation outside to finish up. Finally, Rinco bids her friend goodbye and walks away, her boots jangling as she exits the courtyard; the other servant also leaves, and after a few moments, you're finally able to tumble out of the closet. "Well done," Riel says briskly, stepping smartly out as you carefully maneuver past the puddle of paint, dropping your invisible umbrella. "That was quick thinking on your part. I know it's only paint, but I would not like to have entered Sibella's apartments—or returned to the Sun Court—looking like I fell headfirst into a pit of wet pavement." Then he glances at you and smiles thinly. "Are we ready to enter the serpent's den, before any other intruders so rudely interrupt us?" <<include 'sibellasdoor'>>

<<nobr>><<if $rielromanceflag >= 15>><<set $rielromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</nobr>>It seems a bit futile, but it's the only thing you can do to help: you immediately lift your hand and form a cup at the edge of the shelf, preventing it from splattering down onto Riel's head. Instead, the flow of the paint is redirected down your wrist, trickling coldly and wetly into your long sleeve. You grimace in mild discomfort, but Riel—finally registering what you're doing—gifts you a look of profound gratitude: you tolerate mess and untidiness far better than he does. Sometimes he can barely abide having his pens arranged in any order except according to size and thickness. You wait for what seems like an eternity, trying not to dance or squirm as the cold, viscous paint slowly makes its way down your outstretched arm and eventually reaches your armpit. Riel can only give you a surprisingly soft, sympathetic look, and the two of you stand in breathless, impatient silence while you wait for the conversation outside to finish up. Finally, Rinco bids her friend goodbye and walks away, her boots jangling as she exits the courtyard. The other servant also leaves, and after a few moments, you're finally able to tumble out of the closet. Riel immediately turns and hands you a handkerchief to wipe your hands with. "I'm sorry about that. Are you all right?" <<include 'rielhandpaint'>>

<<nobr>><<if $rielromanceflag >= 10>><<set $rielromanceflag -= 3>><</if>><</nobr>> Riel's brow furrows as he stares at you uncomprehendingly, his expression clearly broadcasting, <i>What are you…?</i> The cold, viscous white paint begins to spatter down onto his head. The soundless gasp that Riel makes—the way his entire body <i>seizes</i> with indignant outrage—would almost be funny, if you weren't so concerned with getting caught. You shake your head at him in a plea to stay silent and still as Riel glares back at you, his mouth open in appalled affront as the white paint rains down onto his head, coating his impeccable black hair and the shoulders of his magnificent suit with white liquid. A little of it even spatters a bit on you, but it's nothing compared to the deluge that Riel receives. You hold yourselves awkwardly, helplessly still for what it seems like an eternity; from the sheer rage in Riel's eyes, it's only the gravity of your predicament with Sibella de Vespe that prevents him from charging outside and cursing the guard and her companion out for forcing to abide this <i>mess</i>. Finally, Rinco bids her friend goodbye and walks away, her boots jangling as she exits the courtyard. The other servant also leaves, and after a few moments, you're finally able to tumble out of the closet. Riel practically sprints out of the cramped space, reaching up to touch his now-stiffening white hair with a shocked, inarticulate sound you've never heard him make, as if he'd reached up to his head and found a deep wound. <<include 'rielpaintmess'>>

<<nobr>><<if $lavinetromanceflag >= 15>><<set $lavinetromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</nobr>>The problem with rats is that the domestic, familiar-with-human ones are famously cheeky: they're just as likely to do something simply <i>because</i> you forbade them from doing it, so your stern warning might have a provocative effect rather than a preventative one. However, just to be sure, you layer steely magic into the command, making it impossible to resist. A bit miffed, the rat relents to the force of your will and turns, vanishing back into the hole from whence it came. Lavinet relaxes with an audible breath of relief, sending you a look of glowing gratitude and a smile. The two of you wait in breathless silence while you wait for the conversation outside to finish up. Finally, Rinco bids her friend goodbye and walks away, her boots jangling as she exits the courtyard. The other servant also leaves, and after a few moments, you're finally able to tumble out of the closet. Lavinet hurries out of the cramped space as quickly as possible, brushing her skirts over and over with a visible shudder. "<i>Ghastly</i>," you hear her muttering as she smooths back her long hair. "Utterly ghastly." Then she turns to you with a tight smile, all brisk business again, and declares: "Let's find our way into Sibella's apartments before we're forced to hide back in there a second time, shall we?" As you move to follow her, you pause at the sound of her voice. "And <<c firstname>>? Thank you." <<include 'sibellasdoor'>>

<<nobr>><<if $lavinetromanceflag >= 15>><<set $lavinetromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</nobr>> You can't do much without either knocking into something or making a lot of noise, but you have just enough room to flap your hand frantically over Lavinet's head in an attempt to deter the rat from jumping. It watches your strange movements, still clearly intrigued—but ultimately your motions are enough to convince it to turn around and vanish back into the hole from whence it came. Lavinet relaxes with an audible breath of relief, sending you a look of glowing gratitude and a smile. The two of you wait in breathless silence while you wait for the conversation outside to finish up. Finally, Rinco bids her friend goodbye and walks away, her boots jangling as she exits the courtyard. The other servant also leaves, and after a few moments, you're finally able to tumble out of the closet. Lavinet hurries out of the cramped space as quickly as possible, brushing her skirts over and over with a visible shudder. "<i>Ghastly</i>," you hear her muttering as she smooths back her long hair. "Utterly ghastly." Then she turns to you with a tight smile, all brisk business again, and declares: "Let's find our way into Sibella's apartments before we're forced to hide back in there a second time, shall we?" As you move to follow her, you pause at the sound of her voice. "And <<c firstname>>? Thank you." <<include 'sibellasdoor'>>

<<nobr>><<if $lavinetromanceflag >= 10>><<set $lavinetromanceflag -= 1>><</if>><</nobr>> The sound its fat body makes as it plops down onto Lavinet's hair is almost comical. However, the look of panicked horror that enters Lavinet's eyes as she freezes is not. She sucks in a sharp breath, her hands gripping the front of your shirt with almost talon-like ferocity, but she doesn't scream. Her face turns white as her jaw clenches with the effort, but she doesn't make a peep as the rat scampers down her long hair and scurries investigatively onto her shoulder. That's close enough to your hand that you're able to reach over—with an effort, as you're trying not to knock into anything else—and flick the creature off of Lavinet's dress, if only to prevent her from panicking; she's practically vibrating with the effort not to. The rat actually grunts with offense at being brushed off so summarily, but it lands harmlessly on the ground, rolls over, glares at the two of you, and then scrabbles away, looking as affronted as if you'd just rejected a nice gift. Lavinet makes a small sound, almost like a half-choked sob of relief, and the two of you wait in breathless silence while you wait for the conversation outside to finish up. Finally, Rinco bids her friend goodbye and walks away, her boots jangling as she exits the courtyard. The other servant also leaves, and after a few moments, you're finally able to tumble out of the closet. Lavinet practically sprints out of the cramped space, raking her hands through her hair and brushing her skirts out over and over as she visibly shudders and hops in place. "That was ghastly!" she cries, combing frantically through the long strands of her curls. "Did it—<i>defecate</i> on me?" "I don't think so." You move to examine her in the light of the courtyard, but you don't see anything untoward on her dress or skin. Still, Lavinet looks as if she'd rather abandon the whole mission now for a long bath. "Why did it have to land on <i>me</i>?" she demands, clearly still distressed. <<include 'lavinetratreaction'>>

In return, Briony only helplessly buries her face in your shoulder and rubs vigorously. Thankfully, she doesn't quite sneeze, though she lets out a muffled squeak that's so quiet that it seems impossible that anyone outside the closet could hear it. For a moment, the two of you wait, tense and frozen, but the conversation outside carries on as genially as ever. You both breathe a sigh of relief, though you gift Briony a warning glare as thanks for blowing her germs into your shirt; she colors and gives you an apologetic, embarrassed look in return, still trying pathetically not to sniffle. Finally, Rinco bids her friend goodbye and walks away, her boots jangling as she exits the courtyard. The other servant also leaves, and after a few moments, you're finally able to tumble out of the closet. "<i>I'm sorry</i>," Briony half-wails as she staggers out of the cramped space, rubbing her watering eyes with both hands and immediately smudging her eyeliner. "I couldn't help it!" You brush at your shoulder with a handkerchief. "It's fine," you sigh resignedly. It's better that than getting caught and failing your mission, at least. "Let's just get into Sibella's before anyone comes back, all right?" <<include 'sibellasdoor'>>

Briony's eyes widen in alarm as your hand flashes up to squeeze her nose shut, but the trick thankfully seems to work. She goes still, holding her breath desperately, and the two of you wait in breathless silence while you wait for the conversation outside to finish up. Finally, Rinco bids her friend goodbye and walks away, her boots jangling as she exits the courtyard. The other servant also leaves, and after a few moments, you're finally able to tumble out of the closet. Briony staggers out and immediately unleashes a series of at least six explosive sneezes. "<i>Whew</i>," she says afterwards, blinking watering eyes as she extracts a handkerchief from her pocket. "Good thinking, <<c halfname>>. Who knew I was sensitive to dust?" With her amnesia, you suppose no one could have. "I'm just glad we weren't caught," you answer, looking around swiftly. "Let's get inside Sibella's apartments before anyone else comes back." <<include 'sibellasdoor'>>

Briony immediately buries her face in the folds of your shirt and uses your shoulder to muffle her sneeze. You wince, but the sound was small and quiet enough that it seems impossible for anyone outside the closet to have heard it. For a moment, the two of you wait, tense and frozen, but the conversation outside carries on as genially as ever. You both breathe a sigh of relief, though you gift Briony an unimpressed look as thanks for blowing her germs into your shirt; she colors and gives you an apologetic, embarrassed look in return, still trying pathetically not to sniffle. Finally, Rinco bids her friend goodbye and walks away, her boots jangling as she exits the courtyard. The other servant also leaves, and after a few moments, you're finally able to tumble out of the closet. "<i>I'm sorry</i>," Briony half-wails as she staggers out of the cramped space, rubbing her watering eyes with both hands and immediately smudging her eyeliner. "I couldn't help it!" You brush at your shoulder with a handkerchief. "It's fine," you sigh resignedly. It's better that than getting caught and failing your mission, at least. "Let's just get into Sibella's before anyone comes back, all right?" <<include 'sibellasdoor'>>

You dip your head and press your lips against Lavinet's in a slow, teasing kiss, your lips moving together in languid exploration. You feel her sigh lightly against your mouth as she accepts the kiss, relaxing slowly into your arms as you draw closer together. All over your body you feel the soft, silken rustle of her clothes, enticing and enthralling in its own way; the gentle, teasing brush of her gloved hands wandering down your arms, your sides. At first your kisses are exploratory, lingering, clinging slightly as Lavinet's lips move slowly against yours; then they gradually become more heated, the touch of her tongue making you shiver. You can't help but press against her more closely, and Lavinet makes a small sound between a laugh and a sigh, her hand falling beneath your shirt to lightly graze her nails against your midriff… The sharp bark of a laugh outside causes both of you to freeze, the edge of Lavinet's nails resting just against the top of your belt. Beyond the closet, Rinco the guard bids her friend goodbye and finally walks away, her boots jangling as she exits the courtyard. The other servant also leaves, and it's with a slow, regretful sigh that the two of you draw apart, your skin still burning with the desire for longer and more prolonged contact. Lavinet draws her head back, blinking slightly, before she laughs a little and says in an unusually-sultry voice that sounds a bit hoarse: "Well, as pleasant as that was… I suppose we should get back to business before anyone comes back." You sigh and give her one last kiss. "We should. Only because the Shepherds are counting on us." When you finally tumble out of the closet, Lavinet is already smoothing her hair back and setting herself to rights, the picture of elegance and composure once again. Only the slight tender redness of her lips indicates what's happened—that, and the fact that when she glances back at you with a smile, her eyes fall to your own lips and then quickly away. She moves quickly and smartly to Sibella's front door with the briskness of someone trying to act totally unaffected by something, when really the opposite seems to be true. <<include 'sibellasdoor'>>

You lower your lids and smile lazily at Lavinet, but you make no move to close the distance between the two of you, instead only affectionately cupping Lavinet's soft chin. Instantly, a flicker of challenge appears in the noblewoman's darkened eyes, visible even in the dimness of the closet, and an expression that you've come to recognize crosses her face: <i>Two can play at that game.</i> She leans forward, but rather than kissing your lips directly, you feel the soft cling of her lipstick as she presses her lips to your cheek, then moves to kiss along your jaw, then the juncture where your neck meets your jawline. Finally, she pauses, letting you feel the intriguing tickle of her cool breath against your ear—you try not to shiver—before she takes your earlobe between her teeth in a distinctly seductive gesture. At the soft sound you make, Lavinet quickly turns her head and captures your lips in yours, finally overcome by her own impatience. Her kiss is firm, determined, resolute; you have to stifle a laugh as she draws you closer, almost imperiously. All over your body you feel the soft, silken rustle of her clothes, enticing and enthralling in its own way; the gentle, teasing brush of her gloved hands wandering down your arms, your sides. At first your kisses are exploratory, lingering, clinging slightly as Lavinet's lips move slowly against yours; then they gradually become more heated, the touch of her tongue making you shudder again. You can't help but press against her more closely, and Lavinet makes a small sound between a laugh and a sigh, her hand falling to lightly graze the edge of her nail against the seam of your pants… The sharp bark of a laugh outside causes both of you to freeze, the tips of Lavinet's fingers resting just against the bottom of your belt. Beyond the closet, Rinco the guard bids her friend goodbye and finally walks away, her boots jangling as she exits the courtyard. The other servant also leaves, and it's with a slow, regretful sigh that the two of you draw apart, your skin still burning with the desire for longer and more prolonged contact. Lavinet draws her head back, blinking slightly, before she laughs a little and says in an unusually-sultry voice that sounds a bit hoarse: "Well, as pleasant as that was… I suppose we should get back to business before anyone comes back." You sigh and give her one last kiss. "We should. Only because the Shepherds are counting on us." When you finally tumble out of the closet, Lavinet is already smoothing her hair back and setting herself to rights, the picture of elegance and composure once again. Only the slight tender redness of her lips indicates what's happened—that, and the fact that when she glances back at you with a smile, her eyes fall to your own lips and then quickly away. She moves quickly and smartly to Sibella's front door with the briskness of someone trying to act totally unaffected by something, when really the opposite seems to be true. <<include 'sibellasdoor'>>

The look that Lavinet gives you is distinctly unimpressed, as if you'd outright <i>promised</i> to seduce her in a closet and are now reneging on your word— but she seems to accept your choice as you lean back regretfully and put a more chaste distance between you (or at least as best you can manage in these cramped and limited confines). The two of you wait in rueful but slightly awkward silence as you wait for the guard's conversation to finish up. Finally, Rinco bids her friend goodbye and walks away, her boots jangling as she exits the courtyard. The other servant also leaves, and after a few moments, you're finally able to tumble out of the closet. Lavinet is already smoothing her hair back when she emerges from the cramped face, a slightly annoyed expression on her face as she mutters, "Well! That look them long enough." Without commenting on what just happened between the two of you, she turns and makes her way imperiously to Sibella's front door, her head held high… but the way she tugs aggressively on the handle suggests it did something to personally offend her. <<include 'sibellasdoor'>>

You dip your head and press your lips against Briony's in a slow, teasing kiss, your lips moving together in languid exploration. You barely have time to muffle the pleased, eager gasp that comes out of her as she instantly responds to the kiss, turning to fire in your arms as you draw together in a hungry embrace. Her leg instantly hitches up to wrap around your hip as her arms snake encouragingly around your neck; your teeth click together as she practically devours your mouth, your tongues stroking together in tandem as she guides your hand down to her chest… The sharp bark of a laugh outside causes both of you to freeze, Briony caught halfway into tugging your hair as Rinco the guard bids her friend goodbye and finally walks away, her boots jangling as she exits the courtyard. The other servant also leaves, and it's with a slow, regretful sigh that the two of you draw apart, your palm still tingling from the soft warmth it was pressed against just a moment before. Briony whispers, with a despairing kind of resignation, "I suppose we should… get inside De Vespe's place before anyone comes back…" But she looks at you hopefully, as if wishing you'd say otherwise. You sigh and give her one last kiss. "We should. Only because the Shepherds are counting on us." A distinctly sullen, mutinous expression crosses Briony's face, as if she wants to bite on something to convey her frustration, but she nods reluctantly and unwinds her leg from around you. "You're right…" When you finally tumble out of the closet, Briony has the flushed, dazed look of someone extremely well-kissed. She smiles sheepishly at you, blinking owlishly in the renewed light, before stumbling over to Sibella's front door like a drunkard and jiggling the handle aggressively, as if it had personally wronged her. <<include 'sibellasdoor'>>

You lower your lids and smile lazily at Briony, but you make no move to close the distance between the two of you, instead only affectionately brushing a curl of pink hair from her cheek, winding the ringlet around your finger. Instantly, the former gladiator's chin sets in a stubborn, mulish way—she seems to know exactly what you're doing—before, with a look of determination, she stretches up, wraps her arms around your neck, and kisses you firmly and resolutely. You have to stifle a laugh as she draws you closer, almost demandingly, her lips parting unselfconsciously to deepen the kiss. Your lips move together in slow, languid exploration at first, but soon the kiss grows more heated and enthusiastic as you each grow more excited, Briony's obvious hunger and passion for you practically turning her to fire in your arms. Breathing quickly, she hitches one leg around your hip, her fingers eagerly tracing your neck and collarbones; she lifts your wrist to her cheek and turns her head to nip lightly at your pulse point, forcing you to muffle a groan as you lean more heavily against her. Your tongues touch; hands begin to wander, and you grow dizzy with pleasure as Briony's hips hitch against you, the tiniest moan escaping from her lips as she guides your hand towards her chest… The sharp bark of a laugh outside causes both of you to freeze, your heart hammering wildly against your chest as Rinco the guard bids her friend goodbye and finally walks away, her boots jangling as she exits the courtyard. The other servant also leaves, and it's with a slow, regretful sigh that the two of you draw apart, your skin already burning with longing for more and continued contact. Briony stirs against you and whispers, with a despairing kind of resignation: "I suppose we should… get inside De Vespe's place before anyone comes back…" But she looks at you hopefully, as if wishing you'd say otherwise. You sigh and give her one last kiss. "We should. Only because the Shepherds are counting on us." A distinctly sullen, mutinous expression crosses Briony's face, as if she wants to bite on something to convey her frustration, but she nods reluctantly and unwinds her leg from around you. "You're right…" When you finally tumble out of the closet, Briony has the flushed, dazed look of someone extremely well-kissed. She smiles sheepishly at you, blinking owlishly in the renewed light, before stumbling over to Sibella's front door like a drunkard and jiggling the handle aggressively, as if it had personally wronged her. <<include 'sibellasdoor'>>

The look that Briony gives you is distinctly and theatrically heartbroken, but she seems to accept your choice as you lean back regretfully and put a more chaste distance between you (or at least as best you can manage in these cramped and limited confines). She is neither actually angry nor wounded, but she plays up her puppy-eyed moue of despair and pantomimes dramatically crying as you wait for the guard's conversation to finish up. Finally, Rinco bids her friend goodbye and walks away, her boots jangling as she exits the courtyard. The other servant also leaves, and after a few moments, you're finally able to tumble out of the closet. Briony stomps out of the cramped space with a mock-scowl on her face. "<i>Well</i>! That took them long enough!" She throws a sullen look in the departed guard's direction, looking for all the world as if she's cursing Rinco and her friend out in her head. Then she glances back at you and smiles, to show you that she's only joking, before her eyes flit to your lips again and she flushes. She hurries to Sibella's door and tugs aggressively on the handle, as if afraid she'll end up jumping your bones if she looks at you any longer. <<include 'sibellasdoor'>>

You dip your head and press your lips against Riel's in a slow, teasing kiss, your lips moving together in languid exploration. For a moment, Riel remains tense and stiff before he finally relaxes and responds to your touch, easing back against the door as he returns your kiss, first hesitantly and questingly, then with increasing passion and enthusiasm. Your tongues touch; hands begin to wander, and Riel catches his breath as you wind your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck, his hands tracing your chest slowly before he stills with a muffled groan just as your other hand dips gently against his belt… The sharp bark of a laugh outside causes both of you to freeze, your finger still hooked teasingly against the tongue of Riel's belt as Rinco the guard bids her friend goodbye and finally walks away, her boots jangling as she exits the courtyard. The other servant also leaves, and it's with a slow, regretful sigh that the two of you draw apart, your palm still burning from the heat it was pressed against just a moment before. Riel shifts, clears his throat softly, and says in a hoarse voice you've never heard from him before: "As pleasant as that was, we should…" You smile at him and give him one last kiss. "Yes, we should." When you finally tumble out of the closet, Riel turns away from you in an attempt to prevent you from seeing the flush of his pale cheeks, or the distinctly-mussed, dazed look of him as he tries to put himself to rights. When he looks back at you again, he dips his head slightly, all business and composure once more. But you see his eyes flicker to your lips again before he turns back to Sibella's door, and his posture is distinctly agitated as he marches up to it as if it had personally wronged him. <<include 'sibellasdoor'>>

You lower your lids and smile lazily at Riel, but you make no move to close the distance between the two of you. A furrow appears in Riel's brow as he seems to realize exactly what you're doing, and a long-suffering, exasperated expression crosses his face before he seems to throw caution to the wind and give in to his own impatience. He leans up to capture your lips firmly in his, and you have to stifle a laugh as he draws you closer, almost in a kind of demand. Your lips move together in slow, languid exploration at first, but soon the kiss grows more heated and enthusiastic as you each seem to challenge the other. He nibbles on your lips, forcing you to stifle a gasp; he takes in a sharp breath when you nip at the juncture between his jaw and his neck. Your tongues touch; hands begin to wander, and you grow dizzy with pleasure as Riel runs his palms reverently across your shoulders, down your chest, tracing a line of fire against your torso until the backs of his knuckles brush gently, elegantly against the seam of your pants… The sharp bark of a laugh outside causes both of you to freeze, your heart hammering wildly against your chest as Rinco the guard bids her friend goodbye and finally walks away, her boots jangling as she exits the courtyard. The other servant also leaves, and it's with a slow, regretful sigh that the two of you draw apart, your skin already burning with longing for more and continued contact. Riel shifts, clears his throat softly, and says in a hoarse voice you've never heard from him before: "As pleasant as that was, we should…" You smile at him and give him one last kiss. "Yes, we should." When you finally tumble out of the closet, Riel turns away from you in an attempt to prevent you from seeing the flush of his pale cheeks, or the distinctly-mussed, dazed look of him as he tries to put himself to rights. When he looks back at you again, he dips his head slightly, all business and composure once more. But you see his eyes flicker to your lips again before he turns back to Sibella's door, and his posture is distinctly agitated as he marches up to it as if it had personally wronged him. <<include 'sibellasdoor'>>

Riel smiles to himself as you sigh and draw away regretfully, putting a more chaste distance between the two of you (or as best you can manage in these cramped and limited confines). You stay still for the remainder of your time in the closet, exchanging knowing looks and playful, rueful glances as you wait for the guard's conversation to finish up. Finally, Rinco bids her friend goodbye and walks away, her boots jangling as she exits the courtyard. The other servant also leaves, and after a few moments, you're finally able to tumble out of the closet. Riel turns away from you in an attempt to prevent you from seeing the flush of his pale cheeks as he tries to put himself to rights. When he looks back at you again, he dips his head slightly, all business and composure once more. But you see his eyes flicker to your lips again before he turns back to Sibella's door, and his posture is distinctly agitated as he marches up to it as if it had personally wronged him. <<include 'sibellasdoor'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Come now, you've surely faced worse during your work as a Shepherd. I've seen you come home covered in blood and gore."</div>' 'autogenerated_686318'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Look at it this way: this will be a very amusing story to tell the others once we succeed in our mission."</div>' 'autogenerated_686319'>><<setlavinet +1>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Would you have rather it landed on <i>me</i>?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686320'>><<setlavinet -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Calm down and get over yourself. We're on a mission."</div>' 'autogenerated_686321'>><<setloyal +3>><<setcompassionate -3>><<setcharisma -3>><<setlavinet -5>><<set $lavinetromanceflag -= 5>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"This was different!" Lavinet protests with another shudder. However, she seems to see the sense in what you're saying, because she does calm down and simply mutters, "Let's just get into De Vespe's place before anyone else wanders in and sees us." She hurries to Sibella's front door, rubbing her arms as if she's trying to escape a deathly chill. <<include 'sibellasdoor'>>

Lavinet pauses and looks over at you, half-incredulous; however, the thought seems to calm her somewhat, and she even smiles slightly. "I… I suppose that's true," she admits after a moment, with a little laugh. She seems to be finding the humor in the situation. "<i>And there, just as we were on a deadly mission to save the entire Order, a rat landed directly onto my head</i>…" "Things like that always seem to happen," you tell her encouragingly. "The others will get a kick out of it." "Though that's only <i>if</i> we succeed," Lavinet concludes, her smile fading a little. She glances around at the courtyard and sobers. "You're right: the rat doesn't matter. Let's get into De Vespe's place before anyone comes back and spots us." <<include 'sibellasdoor'>>

<<nobr>><<if $lavinetromanceflag >= 5>><<set $lavinetromanceflag -= 1>><</if>><</nobr>>"What? No, of course not! I'd rather it didn't land on anybody at all!" Lavinet seems annoyed as she glances over at you, but she purses her lips and says nothing more about the rat. The two of you hurry over to Sibella's door, Lavinet holding her arms all the while, as if she's trying to escape a deathly chill. <<include 'sibellasdoor'>>

Lavinet immediately turns white with offense, pursing her lips, but she says nothing more about the rat. She turns away and hurries to Sibella's door, rubbing her arms all the while, as if she's trying to escape a deathly chill. <<include 'sibellasdoor'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Oh, I'm fine. I'm just glad it didn't get on you."</div>' 'autogenerated_686322'>><<setriel +1>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Ugh." You wince as you try to ignore the sensations of a paint-congealed armpit. "You know I saved you, right?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686323'>><</link>> <<if $magic >= 10>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Simply whisk away the mess with your magic. "No harm done."</div>' 'autogenerated_686324'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $magic < 10>><div class="inactive-item">Simply whisk away the mess with your magic. "No harm done."</div><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

Riel actually smiles at you, the expression surprisingly gentle. "That's just the sort of person you are," he murmurs, almost to himself. He shakes his head and adds gravely, "I thank you for your sacrifice. It's only paint, but I would not like to have entered Sibella's apartments—or returned to the Sun Court—looking like I fell headfirst into a pit of wet pavement." He glances assessingly at you. "At least most of it is under your sleeve. From the outside, no one would notice anything is amiss. Are you ready to go inside, do you think?" You nod, having cleaned up yourself as best as you could. Together, the two of you head to Sibella's front door. <<include 'sibellasdoor'>>

Riel nods gravely. "I do," he says. "And I thank you for it. It's only paint, but I would not like to have entered Sibella's apartments—or returned to the Sun Court—looking like I fell headfirst into a pit of wet pavement." He glances assessingly at you. "At least most of it is under your sleeve. From the outside, no one would notice anything is amiss. Just try not to leave white fingerprints on Sibella's things." You roll your eyes as you follow him to De Vespe's front door. "I'll try my best." <<include 'sibellasdoor'>>

Riel smiles at you. "The perks of being a Mage," he murmurs. "Though I suspect I'd abuse such a spell far too often. Well. Thank you for shielding me, anyway. That was… thoughtful of you." He nods awkwardly to Sibella de Vespe's front door. "Now that you're clean, we should head inside before anyone else threatens to come across us." <<include 'sibellasdoor'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You can't help but laugh. He looks ridiculous, like a man only half-turned into a marble statue.</div>' 'autogenerated_686325'>><<setriel -5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Attempt to help him clean up with a handkerchief. "It's not <i>that</i> bad..."</div>' 'autogenerated_686326'>><</link>> <<if $magic >= 10>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Use your magic to help him. It's a simple enough spell to tidy him up and set him to rights.</div>' 'autogenerated_686327'>><<setriel +2>><<setmagic +1>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>><</if>> <<if $magic < 10>><div class="inactive-item">Use your magic to help him. It's a simple enough spell to tidy him up and set him to rights.</div><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

Riel's eyes practically turn into slits. "You think this is amusing?" It comes out so chilly that it doesn't seem like a question, but his vicious glare only makes you burst into a fresh peal of laughter. You wish the others could see this picture! Riel scowls at you and turns away, shaking his head as he attempts to put himself to rights with his handkerchief. After a few moments of somewhat-futile dabbing, Riel seems fit enough to enter De Vespe's home without leaving it looking like a crime scene… but he still looks like a splattered, deeply-unhappy pigeon of some kind, his suit mostly dry but his hair now molded into a hard white tangle. He shoots you a still-wordless glance of cold admonition and loathing—<i>not another word</i>—before marching stiffly to Sibella's door, trying to salvage what's left of his dignity. <<include 'sibellasdoor'>>

Riel narrows his eyes at you, but thankfully chooses to hold his tongue as you try to blot out the worst of the paint. He seems practically speechless with indignation—you know how much he hates to be unclean, almost to the point of neuroses—but you don't have time for him to change or clean up properly right now. At least the paint didn't get on his hands or shoes, so he can't track it into Sibella's apartments… After a few moments of somewhat-futile dabbing, Riel seems fit enough to enter De Vespe's home without leaving it looking like a crime scene… but he still looks like a splattered, deeply-unhappy pigeon of some kind, his suit mostly dry but his hair now molded into a hard white tangle. He shoots you a still-wordless glance of cold admonition—<i>not another word</i>—before marching stiffly to Sibella's door, trying to salvage what's left of his dignity. <<include 'sibellasdoor'>>

You snap your fingers and concentrate, and instantly, the mess coating Riel's head and shoulders vanishes, leaving him as clean and untouched as if the accident had never happened. He blinks, examines his now-spotless sleeves, and breathes a sigh of relief. "<i>Thank you</i>," he tells you, drawing himself up with what's left of his dignity. "I would have hated to enter Sibella's apartments… or return to the Sun Court… looking like <i>that</i>. It's only paint, but I would not have been at my best." "Let's thank the gods it was <i>only</i> paint," you reply, your lips quirking. "I think I spotted some rat droppings in that closet…" At Riel's shocked, blank silence, you laugh and move to Sibella's door, intent on investigating before the guard or her friend comes back. <<include 'sibellasdoor'>>

<<page_break "Next" "sibellaentry">>

Together, the two of you finally enter Sibella's apartments: it takes only a muttered spell-word to release the locks and ease the rich rosewood door open on silent hinges. Lavinet had told you that there would be no reason to expect Sibella's servants to be in the apartment: during the day, when she's at her work, they're either positioned nearby to wait on her person or are off keeping busy with other tasks and errands—she wouldn't brook having them lounge around her empty home for idle hours, tending to an already-spotless apartment. Again, the High Court Mystic's home was not exactly what you were expecting. You were picturing some dark, sinister lair, filled with strange arcane artifacts and morbid silver instruments implying torture and sadism. What you find, instead, is a villa that you would assume looks very similar to others throughout the district. Large curtained windows looking out into a private garden fill the apartment with airy light; plush, light blue carpeting and warm white furniture form an elegant, tasteful, if somewhat generic picture of aristocracy you've seen a dozen times before… almost as if Sibella were trying so hard to be a 'true Sun Courtier' she's censured herself from showing too much of her personality in her home, thereby protecting her aesthetic preferences from the criticism and mockery of guests. Only a few small touches here and there—the heavy scents of some exotic incense, vases of round dark dahlias and golden cups twined with glittering, ruby-eyed snakes—allude to the Mage's actual personality. Careful not to disturb too much for now, you tread on light footsteps through each room, getting a lay of the full home first. You entered through the foyer, where a butler or servant would normally greet guests. From there, the apartment is arranged in a linear fashion: a grand reception room for guests and visitors, a dining room with a long table capable of seating twenty people, and then a corridor with different rooms branching off of it like stems from a trunk. There's a salon for more intimate and informal talks, a personal library and reading room, a private office, a few guest bedrooms, and then Sibella's private chambers, with her own grand bedroom and bath. On the other side of the private garden lies the kitchens and servants' quarters, which you doubt would hold of much interest for you. Everywhere there are signs of both the political influence and opulence that Sibella possesses—a framed work of art from a foreign master here, a crystal chandelier that's worth ten years of your pay alone—but nothing strikes you as particularly untoward… at least not at first glance. In the reception room, you <<nobr>><<if $sibellapartner is "briony">> hear Briony make a disgusted scoff. <<elseif $sibellapartner is "riel">> see Riel look up searchingly, but non-judgmentally. <<else>> hear Lavinet make a small noise of disdain, tossing her hair. <</if>><</nobr>> Two enormous paintings, man-high, adorn the ends of the room. Over the fireplace mantle is a stolid portrait of the current Autarch, his piercing gray eyes staring gravely and austerely down at you, frowning as if you've already done something to disappoint him. The likeness is somewhat more flattering than the man you glimpsed in the Hall of Concordance, although he was admittedly far away: here, Enik Goldenson looks broad-shouldered and powerful, his jaw a bit more angular and his features more classically-handsome than the thin-nosed, pinched, severe face you saw gazing down at his politicians with heavy-lidded assessment. On the other side of the room is a huge portrait of Sibella herself, striking a dramatic pose. Her dark burnished skin practically glitters here, as if painted with a luminous paint. She stands outlined in stark shadow at a quarter-turn, her arms outstretched as she holds a golden chalice aloft, as if toasting somebody out of the frame's view… or lifting a sacrament in deference to some unknown god, her painted lips parted in an expression that could be a sly smile or an affected religious breathlessness. While Enik's portrait is no doubt the center of the room, you can't deny the palpable ego and vanity that comes from hanging this picture directly across from his. <<nobr>><<if $sibellapartner is "briony">> Briony is incredibly unimpressed. "Self-absorbed wanker," she whispers under her breath, presumably having picked up the phrase from Trouble. <<elseif $sibellapartner is "riel">> Riel is interested in the psychological implications of these pictures. "No religious iconography," he notes placidly, standing with his hands folded behind his back as if he's musing over a work of art in a public gallery. "No indication that she worships the One-God at all, which is interesting, given she seems to care very much about impressing Enik Goldenson. Perhaps she has the servants set those things out when she expects a visit from him. Or perhaps the Autarch has never stepped foot into these apartments at all: it's probably beneath him. If they are having or did have an affair, she would probably have to visit his rooms, not the other way around." He rotates slowly in place, looking back and forth between the twinned portraits. "But here are the true objects of her worship, for all to see," he finishes quietly. "The Autarch and herself: the apex of her attentions. At least she's honest about it." <<else>> Lavinet shakes her head. "A bit tasteless, no?" she asks, trying in vain to keep a little of her old haughtiness from creeping into her voice. "It is typical for nobles to commission portraits of themselves and their families, of course, but this is ostentatious… not to mention brazen. Having the pair of them facing each other like this all but paints them as a couple… members of the same household. Perhaps that's what she <i>wants</i> her guests to think." <</if>><</nobr>> <<page_break "Next" "sibellasearch">>

When you're finally done with your overview of the rooms, <<nobr>><<if $sibellapartner is "briony">> Briony turns to you with a worried furrow in her brow. "Well? Where should we start?" <<elseif $sibellapartner is "lavinet">> Lavinet turns to you with a resigned sigh. "Well? Where do you think we should start?" <<else>> Riel turns to you crisply, undaunted. "I believe her office will hold a trove of information," he declares, "but is there anything in particular you think we should look for?" <</if>><</nobr>> <<nobr>><<if $sibellaevidence >= 2>> "Look for anything written in Korkyth," you answer, remembering what you heard from the Sun Courtiers at the party. "Or anything to do with Karzai. This visitor that Sibella has been receiving in secret seems to be our best chance of finding something untoward." <<else>> "Look for anything that would indicate she's using dark magic, I suppose," you answer, a bit nonplussed. "Or anything that would indicate she's committing a state crime." <br><br> <<if $sibellapartner is "briony">> Briony gives you a blank look. "That's… broad," she says. Then she squares her shoulders. "Well… let's do our best!" <<elseif $sibellapartner is "lavinet">> Lavinet sighs and shakes her head. "I did know <i>that</i> much," she answers, a bit loftily. "Well, we can only help that Sibella would leave evidence so obvious." <<else>> Riel gives you a look of fathomless disdain. "Helpful," he drawls sardonically. "I'll be sure to keep my eyes out." <</if>> <</if>><</nobr>> And with that, the two of you split up and get to work. How will you conduct your search? <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">I'll ransack the place. I don't care if Sibella knows if someone's been here. In fact, that might even make her think twice about threatening me.</div>' 'autogenerated_686328'>><<setcourage +1>><<setstrength +1>><<setintelligence -1>><<setcunning -1>><<setcompassionate -1>><<setloyal -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">I'll carefully riffle through things and put them back exactly as I found them. It will take much longer, but it's better if Sibella isn't tipped off that I was here.</div>' 'autogenerated_686329'>><<setintelligence +1>><<setcunning +1>><<setloyal +1>><<setcourage -1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

You tear through Sibella's belongings, heedless of the condition they started or end up in. In fact, there's a grim kind of catharsis in making a mess of her home, overturning it and upending her private things. It's exactly what she does when she roots around in people's minds, rearranging things as she pleases as if they belong to her. It's what she tried to do when she sent a kakking curse into the heart of your own sanctuary in an attempt to control you. If she's going to make the sanctity of your home feel violated, she deserves to have the same thing done to her. <<include 'sibellasearchresults'>>

Carefully, and with infinite delicacy, you begin the painstaking work of leafing through Sibella's items and returning them to their original positions and arrangements. It's tedious and mind-numbing, but you don't want to give De Vespe any ammunition against you if she decides to paint you out to be some sort of brute or barbarian, looting her home regardless of any concern for propriety or dignity. Better to surprise her completely with your accusations than to give her any reason to suspect beforehand what is about to happen to her. <<include 'sibellasearchresults'>>

For a long while, all you find are papers and contracts full of legal language that mean very little to you; letters from names you don't know and full of content that seems irrelevant. There are barbed words and arch gossip, to be sure, but it seems like the normal Sun Court fare: nothing you could bring to High Augur Arameri or the Autarch to prosecute Sibella with. She seems totally devoted to the current Autarch—almost to the level of an ardent zealot, judging by the replies of her associates—as well as ambitious, clever, and scheming. None of these are crimes in the eyes of the court, though. And if Sibella and her allies are using any kind of code, you don't spot anything obvious enough to tip you off. None of the papers seem to be encoded with a magical encryption, either, and you certainly don't come across any profane spellbooks or forbidden magical contraband. <<nobr>><<if $knowsibellaprotection is true>> Even feeling around with your magic, you confirm what Kephavril told you: Sibella doesn't seem to have any hidden spells or wards in her home that you can detect. Doubtless that would attract too much attention from the routine inspectors and Inquisitors who rove the Sun Court like watch dogs. <</if>><</nobr>> Conferring occasionally with <<c sibellapartner>>, you can only piece together a few somewhat helpful tidbits: Sibella's parents were Enchanters, just as she was, but they pressed their luck with the former Autarch, Enik's mother, a bit too often to be seemly, pushing her to allow them to conduct experiments or develop new techniques and methods similar to the ones De Vespe uses today. From what you can glean, the former Autarch disapproved of Leashing except in the most extreme cases, and found Sibella's parents' eagerness "unpious" or "presumptuous." They quickly fell out of favor with her, and it's implied that some sort of "unfortunate incident" took place in Sibella's youth. From then on, all mentions of her parents drop off, and it's implied that she's sent to live with an aunt, uncle, and two cousins—and these relations left the Sun Court entirely when she reached the age of majority. Things grow hazy and more scattered from there, but you do come to understand that Sibella encountered Enik at a formal function away from the Sun Court sometime after she achieved independence and began living alone. It's extremely difficult to ascertain the true nature of their relationship, given that you only have letters that Sibella received from others, not wrote herself, but you can guess that she set her sights upon him in a bid to claw back the power she lost when her family fell from grace. The previous Autarch, growing sick and more enfeebled in her old age, did little to discourage their association, and this is presumably when Sibella received Enik's permission—as Grand Inquisitor—to create the Chrysalis and renew the experimentation that would lead to the army of Shackled and Leash that now haunt the palace grounds today. And, of course, the development of her ultimate weapon, the geas. Sibella keeps no journals, so she never makes any direct reference to her spellwork or, disappointingly, how any of it functions. The only other insight into her state of mind again comes from letters from nominal allies and relatives: oblique and obscured warnings that she should always be aware she's playing with fire, that she would do well to remember how quickly the Autarch's favor turned against her parents, and that she should take care not to repeat the same fate with Enik. It flirts with the ideas of conspiracy and politicking, but again, it's not enough to bring to the Autarch himself. He'd probably laugh at the thought that there <i>wasn't</i> a Sun Courtier whose relatives warned them to treat him (and dealings with him) with due caution. It's probably the very image he wants to cultivate. <<page_break "Next" "sibellasearchoutcome">>

<<nobr>><<if $sibellaevidence >= 2>> <<include "sibellasearchsuccess">> <<else>> <<include "sibellasearchfailure">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Finally, however, there comes a breakthrough: you hear <<c sibellapartner>>'s exclamation <<nobr>><<if $sibellapartner is "briony">> before she comes scurrying into the room, clutching a plain-looking dark green book. <<elseif $sibellapartner is "lavinet">> before she comes hurrying into the room, clutching a plain-looking dark green book. <<else>> before he strides triumphantly into the room, holding a plain-looking dark green book. <</if>><</nobr>> On its cover are the words <i>Korkyth Unlocked: A Beginner's Primer and Dictionary.</i> At your alert glance, $sibellapartner adds triumphantly, "Something like this would have been easily overlooked, if you hadn't said to look out for it specifically. But it's not just the book—there were letters tucked into this page." <<nobr>><<if $sibellapartner is "briony">> She <<elseif $sibellapartner is "lavinet">> She <<else>> He <</if>><</nobr>> cracks open the dictionary to show you a thin sheaf of four or five papers, of the same translucent, rice-paper-thin parchment that you saw in Sibella's office, though the cramped, spiky scrawl doesn't seem to be her handwriting. These notes are unsigned, and, what's more, they're written entirely in Korkyth, the language of the Northern cities. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $intelligence >= 90>><<link '<div class="choice-item">You're not completely fluent, but you know enough Korkyth to piece together the content of the letters yourself.</div>' 'autogenerated_686330'>><<setintelligence +3>><</link>><</if>> <<if $intelligence < 90>><div class="inactive-item">You're not completely fluent, but you know enough Korkyth to piece together the content of the letters yourself.</div><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Your companion is capable of reading these letters.</div>' 'autogenerated_686331'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

The page these letters are bookmarking seems to be a list of political terms in Korkyth: you notice the words for <i>'guarantee,'</i> <i>'letters of marque,'</i> and <i>'Grand Vizier' </i> before you turn your attention to the letters themselves. <<include 'sibellakorkythletters'>>

<<if $sibellapartner is "lavinet">> "I'm not fluent," Lavinet says, shaking back her hair. "My education only taught me enough to get by with visiting diplomats; I'm much better at Costa. But let me attempt to translate." <<elseif $sibellapartner is "briony">> "I can read them!" Briony says delightedly. "I think I've got a bit of the gift of tongues—it's the Elvish blood in me, Tallys says. I can't speak any of it without butchering things horribly, but I can listen and read well enough. Let me read it aloud for you." <<else>> "I can translate," Riel says matter-of-factly. "I'm afraid I speak Korkyth with something of an accent, but I can read and write it perfectly well. A lot of business contracts come from the North." <</if>> <<include 'sibellakorkythletters'>>

<<nobr>><<set $loadPassage to Story.get("sibellakorkythletter1").text;>> <<letter_holder "casual" $loadPassage>><</nobr>> <<page_break "Next" "korkythletter2">>

<i>Lady De Vespe,</i> <i>I am glad that we have made contact. Although it is a pity that we are unable to meet in person, you may trust my associate. He is discreet and loyal, and will ferry messages between us safely. Regarding your proposal, I admit to feeling intrigued, particularly by your own ingenuity and creativity… Even we in Karzai have heard tales of the work you do. But what need have I for slaves? And while I am sure the Dawn Palace has plenty to spare, what are my assurances that the Autarch will not go hunting for his lost captives?</i> <i>Yours. </i>

<<nobr>><<set $loadPassage to Story.get("sibellakorkythletter2").text;>> <<letter_holder "casual" $loadPassage>><</nobr>> <<page_break "Next" "korkythletter3">>

<i>Lady De Vespe—</i> <i>Thank you for your illuminating letter. My allies and I have conferred, and we are confident that we can offer you what you seek. Enclosed is but a taste of our own arts… the magic of Karzai stretches beyond the kind of spellcraft you would have been exposed to in the Sun Court. You are wise to think of expanding your horizons, for there is still an entire frontier to explore outside of what you have been permitted to learn… especially for an extraordinary talent such as yourself.</i> <i>And once we receive your payment, more will come. </i> <i>Yours. </i>

<<nobr>><<set $loadPassage to Story.get("sibellakorkythletter3").text;>> <<letter_holder "casual" $loadPassage>><</nobr>> <<page_break "Next" "korkythletter4">>

<i>Lady De Vespe—</i> <i>We received your first shipment. Five died en route. The journey is a harsh one, but we admit to feeling disappointed by these results. The one Leashed specimen you promised starved herself to death: did you not command them to eat before they left? The Shackled are interesting, but we would need more variety in the next shipment for our studies of them to truly prove fruitful.</i> <i>Still, we enclose another text in exchange for your cooperation.</i>

<<nobr>><<set $loadPassage to Story.get("sibellakorkythletter4").text;>> <<letter_holder "casual" $loadPassage>><</nobr>> <<page_break "Next" "korkythletter5">>

<i>Lady De Vespe—</i> <i>Thank you: this shipment was much better. It has been fascinating to dissect the results of your craftsmanship, to learn from your mind as you learn from ours. It is a morbid kind of cultural exchange, don't you think? I do long to meet you in person. Perhaps if diplomatic relations between our countries are ever established once again…</i> <i>Your grasp of Korkyth is also improving rapidly, if I may. Your talents never cease to surprise us.</i> <i>Yours. </i>

<<nobr>><<set $loadPassage to Story.get("sibellakorkythletter5").text;>> <<letter_holder "casual" $loadPassage>><</nobr>> <<page_break "Next" "sibellasearchconclusion">>

<i>Lady De Vespe—</i> <i>All has been well. Your request is an unusual one, but it is of little difficulty to accomplish. Should you ever require it, an estate in Karzai has been set aside for you. Simply show the city guards and the house staff this seal. It will also grant you entry into the Viziers' palace.</i> This is the last letter, and it contains both a copper wax seal of an eagle clutching two crossed spears in its talons, as well as the address of a house in Karzai.

<<set $sibellainvestigationsuccessful to true>>You glance up and look into <<c sibellapartner>>'s eyes. "We've got her," you breathe, hardly daring to believe it yourself. <<nobr>><<if $sibellapartner is "lavinet">> Lavinet smiles, her eyes dancing with triumph. "She's finished," she agrees, scoffing as if it had been the easiest thing in the world to ensure. "Now let's go deal the killing blow." <<elseif $sibellapartner is "riel">> Riel smiles, all cool devilry and icy calculation; a breath of cold air seems to physically pulse from him. "She hung the noose around her neck long ago," he answers, indicating the letters. "All we need to do now is give her a little push." <<else>> Briony smiles in return, her eyes fierce and glittering with triumphant satisfaction. "Let's go hang the bitch." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "highaugurarameri">>

After a few hours of searching, you have to admit defeat. There is nothing in these apartments: whatever secrets Sibella de Vespe keeps, she either stores them elsewhere or keeps them locked away in her own head. And if you tarry here any longer, you're at risk of being caught rummaging through her home… <<nobr>><<if $sibellapartner is "lavinet">> Lavinet looks crestfallen as she turns to you with a heavy sigh. "Perhaps the names on our petition will be enough," she says heavily. "The politics of the Sun Court are obscure and byzantine. Perhaps, if we are lucky, High Augur Arameri or even the Autarch himself will seize the opportunity to get rid of Sibella for their own reasons…" <br><br> But from the resigned look in her eyes, you can tell she's not holding out much hope for that. <<elseif $sibellapartner is "riel">> Riel's lips tighten, his nostrils flaring as he refuses to admit defeat. "There must be something we've missed," he mutters, pacing Sibella's living room with agitation. "Something that we've failed to uncover. But even if we don't present an ironclad case, the politics of the Sun Court are myriad, and their motivations obscure and byzantine. Perhaps High Augur Arameri will accept even the pretense of an accusation for his own reasons." <br><br> But the tight, angry look in his eyes tells you he thinks otherwise. <<else>> Briony gives a kind of wail of despair. "This <i>can't</i> be it!" she cries, stomping her foot emphatically on Sibella's plush carpet. She looks like she wants to punch a hole in the wall. "She—she can't beat us, not like this! There has to be <i>something</i>…" <br><br> But then she casts a nervous glance at the front door, as if she heard movement outside of it; both of you fall silent for a moment, holding your breaths. Finally Briony shakes her head and says in a lower tone, "Maybe… maybe Croelle will come up with something. Or maybe the High Augur won't even care that we don't have a strong case. Maybe he'll want to get rid of De Vespe for his own reasons!" <br><br> But from the pleading way she's looking at you, you're not sure if she's trying to convince you or herself. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "highaugurarameri">>

<<page_break "Next" "augurmeeting">>

It's nearly sundown by the time you're summoned to see High Augur Arameri. He asks you to meet him in a chamber that reminds you a little of a throne room, where the High Augur meets with petitioners, foreign dignitaries, other advisors, or hears confessions on behalf of the Church: evidently he doesn't keep something as mundane as an office here in the Dawn Palace. It's an intimidating, imposing place, which you suppose might even be on purpose—it's a display of the High Augur's power, and his authority as Enik's Right Hand. The pristine white marble of the room gleams with an almost supernatural luster, reflecting the cold blue-orange light streaming through the narrow windows as the sun sinks towards the horizon. Tall, elegant columns of the same alabaster stone rise to support a vaulted ceiling. Your every footstep clicks and creaks against the polished floor with disconcerting, echoing detail, making you over-conscious of your every move. At the end of the chamber is a marble dais with several sets of steps, ending with a gold-framed chair just a step away from being an actual throne. High Augur Arameri reclines there, seemingly at his leisure, with only a small side-desk and a few papers for notes at his elbow. From the slight spasm of puzzlement across Briony's face, you can tell she's wondering how the old man can sit like that without getting stiff. A few servants—not Leashed or Shackled, but normal scribes and secretaries—hover at the sides of the room, but at High Augur Arameri's glance, they scurry away. An enormous gilded, gold-leafed painting of the One-God is placed directly behind and above his chair, an artwork of such sweet and surpassing beauty that its contrast with its cold, austere surroundings leaves you a bit confused and cringing, like a person presented with a searing splash of red in a dizzying black-and-white room. High Augur Phelan Arameri doesn't rise to greet you; he only inclines his head. This morning he'd simply looked like an old man with thin, coarse silver hair raked back against his scalp and a sharp, vulturous nose, dressed in the blue and white robes of his office; but up close you can see how immensely wrinkled his face is, his hands crisscrossed with the faint blue veins of old age, and how his bright blue eyes are animated with a lively intelligence and cunning despite all that. His mien is calm, stately, and thoughtful; his gaze, when it alights on you, seems to comprehend much, but he does not seem like a hasty or vindictive man. It remains to be seen if he's anything close to a kind one. A shadow detaches itself from the end of the room behind you, carrying itself forward on powerful strides and soundless steps. Croelle flicks you a gold-tinged look of acknowledgment—he doesn't quite nod—before he takes up position beside your party with his hands clasped behind his back, the explosive potency of his aura couched in a deceptively indifferent stance. The High Augur lifts a brow at his appearance. "High Inquisitor. This is an unusual gathering, indeed. Am I to believe that the Inquisition and the Shepherds have finally put their enmity aside in favor of cooperation and alliance?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Let Croelle answer.</div>' 'autogenerated_686332'>><<setcroelle +5>><</link>> <<if $charisma >= 70>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I believe it speaks to the urgency and direness of our case, my lord, that we've decided to put our differences aside in order to work together."</div>' 'augurformalities'>><<setcroelle -1>><<setcharisma +1>><<setloyal +1>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"The High Inquisitor was quite clear that this is a one-time exception."</div>' 'augurformalities'>><<setcroelle -5>><<setcharisma -5>><<setcourage +1>><<setloyal -1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Croelle grunts. "I wouldn't go that far," he drawls, "but it should speak to the threat of Sibella de Vespe that we were spurred to unite against her like this." <<include 'augurformalities'>>

The High Augur nods thoughtfully. Then he looks to Lavinet and says pleasantly, "Lady Lavinet Naveen. I hope you've found your first day in the Sun Court… amenable. Some of us have been eagerly awaiting your official debut here." Lavinet curtsies seamlessly, her eyes lowered in a demur deference that you're not quite used to from her. "You honor me, High Augur," she murmurs. "I won't deny it surprises me to hear you know my name." The High Augur smiles faintly. "It would be foolish of me not to take an interest in a noblewoman who shows such verve and promise, no matter where she comes from." The formalities dispensed with, he finally looks to you, his gaze expectant and only mildly interested, his lids lowered in something like cool assessment. "So, <<c rank>> <<c surname>>," he says cordially. "Why have you come to see me today?" You take a breath. "As you might have been told, Your Grace," <<nobr>><<if $charisma >= 80>> you say steadily and evenly, <<else>> you begin, trying to keep your voice steady despite a slight hoarseness, <</if>><</nobr>> "some things about High Court Mystic Sibella de Vespe have been brought to light. Both the Inquisitors and the Order of the Shepherds find this knowledge… troubling. We thought it best to bring our findings to you, and you could then convey them to the Autarch. We believe swift and immediate action must be taken, before De Vespe has a chance to get away with her crimes." You glance at Croelle, who lowers his lids in nonargument. "Speaking bluntly, she needs to be arrested tonight." "My, my," the augur murmurs, steepling his fingers together. "And what exactly have you found?" <<nobr>><<if $darktomesibella is true>> At your nod, Croelle produces the dark tome you gave him, wrapped in a black cloth that you have to assume negates its malevolent magic. He steps up to Arameri's dais and holds the book open for the augur's inspection; the old man doesn't touch it, but leans forward and watches with intent as Croelle flips open a few pages with his gloved hands, displaying the profane diagrams of rituals and arcane runes within. <br><br> "A book of black sorcery, bordering on the demonic," Croelle intones. If you didn't know better, you'd almost suspect a thin layer of irony shading his tone. "At the Shepherds' tip-off, my Inquisitors raided De Vespe's rooms and found it hidden in her study not one hour ago." <br><br> High Augur Arameri leans back, his fingers still intertwined as he arches a brow. "How do you know it is truly hers? That it wasn't planted there by some enemy to frame her? She has no shortage of rivals, after all." <br><br> "That was our part of the investigation, High Augur," Riel says then, speaking in the same remote, languid tone that the augur has adopted—as if he couldn't care less about the outcome of this mission. "We've gathered several eyewitness reports and signatures from nobles here in the Sun Court who have seen Lady De Vespe in possession of the book, or otherwise engaging in suspicious behavior that confirms her use of it. They might not have understood the implications of what they were seeing at the time, but viewed holistically, their accounts undeniably prove that she's had the text for a while… and that she has been making use of its secrets." <br><br> <<include "augurpetitioncheck">> <<elseif $darktomesibella is false and $sibellainvestigationsuccessful is true>> At your nod, Riel produces the Koryth primer you found in Sibella's apartments. Carefully, he steps up to Arameri's dais and holds the book open for the augur's inspection; the old man doesn't touch it, but leans forward with a frown as Riel flips open a few pages with his gloved hands, then delicately passes over the letters. <br><br> "These letters are in Korkyth," you say, "and were found tucked into this book in Sibella's study. Each one is addressed to her personally. An official translator will verify their contents, but the gist of it is that Sibella has been in contact with what seems to be a Grand Vizier of Karzai." <br><br> High Augur Arameri stirs at this, his interest clearly piqued. "If true," he murmurs, "that would be grounds for treason. Karzai is considered an enemy state, and contact with its politicians is forbidden to all except those who have the Autarch's special permission." <br><br> "Exactly, Your Grace." <br><br> "But why exactly has the High Court Mystic entertained such a liaison?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $intelligence >= 50 and $cunning >= 50>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Judging by the content of the letters, we believe that she started it as a backup plan, in case she ever fell out with the Autarch or things in the Sun Court ever went south for her."</div>' 'sibellatradequestion'>><<setintelligence +1>><<setcunning +1>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Because we don't have the letters <i>she</i> wrote, we're not sure of that yet, Your Grace."</div>' 'autogenerated_686333'>><<setintelligence -1>><<setcunning -1>><<setriel -1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <<else>> <<set $sibellafate to "fail">> <<set $croelle -= 10>> <<setreputation -20>> You pause, for just the briefest instant, before forging on: "Well, we have reason to suspect that De Vespe is utilizing the magic she's supposed to be wielding for the Autarch in unauthorized ways." <br><br> High Augur Arameri raises his brows. "How so?" <br><br> You can't directly, explicitly say that you know about the geas—Croelle has forewarned you that letting the Autarch know you're in possession of state-classified information like that would be dangerous for you—but you can state, "Well, sir, she has threatened to use it against me. In order to gain control of the Shepherds." <br><br> "<i>Has</i> she, now?" The High Augur sits forward, his eyes keen and intent. "And what proof do you have of this? Seeing as you are here, making your report against her, I can't imagine that she succeeded." <br><br> "Well, no," you concede, "but she did send a cursed package to the Shepherds in order to violate our security…" <br><br> "Again, do you have solid proof of this?" <br><br> You glance at Riel, who says, "I have witnesses that can confirm the courier who delivered the package is a messenger working for De Vespe." <br><br> "And you have evidence that this package was, in fact, cursed?" <br><br> You pause. "We have our own eyewitness accounts of its arcane nature," you begin carefully, "though our compound's magical wards neutralized the curse before it could take root." <br><br> "Hmm," High Augur Arameri says, and it is not a promising sound. "So you don't know what the 'curse' actually intended to do?" <br><br> "No, but…" <br><br> "The High Court Mystic is authorized to use magic as she sees fit. Without knowing what the spell was meant to do, what proof have you that she actually committed an actionable crime against your Order, or the Autarchy? What if it was some more innocent charm, or something not quite rising to the allegation of treason?" <br><br> At your silence, he sits back. "What else?" <br><br> You grimace; this is already playing with fire, given the fact that, if he chooses to look into this, the High Augur could very well uncover the very blackmail that you're trying to keep Sibella from releasing. But you have no choice but to press on. "We also have several signatures from powerful nobles here in the Sun Court who can confirm that De Vespe is up to something suspicious…" <br><br> But no matter how you try to string the fragmented accounts and bits of information together, you just can't come up with a solid, compelling case that unites all of the disparate perspectives into something actually damning. You fumble through some good theories and speculations, but in the end, that's really all they are. Nothing concrete, nothing irrefutable. Sibella de Vespe could blow them apart with a sly laugh and a careless shake of her hair. And from the steady way High Augur Arameri's face keeps flattening, he knows it, too. By the end of your account, he seems downright annoyed with you for wasting his time. Briony looks mortified, Riel grim and white with suppressed fury, Lavinet stone-faced with embarrassment. Even Croelle looks slightly disgusted, as if he should have known not to expect anything all along. <br><br> "I can bring none of this to the Autarch, you understand," High Augur Arameri says woodenly, passing your petition of names to one of his scribes; he barely even glanced at it. "Court politics means there could be a dozen names eager to jump in and harangue the High Court Mystic at any given moment, just for the fun of it. She is one of the Autarch's most trusted advisors. It will take so much more than a list of nobles and some half-baked allegations to spur him to action. And in the meantime, I will not jeopardize my own credibility or relationship to the Golden One without an ironclad case to back me. Your 'evidence' is as thin as a shoestring." <br><br> <i>No, no, no.</i> "If we had more time," you begin, "more resources, we could…" <br><br> High Augur Arameri casts you an quelling look. "Absolutely not," he says sternly. "You forget, <<c rank>>, that Sibella de Vespe is my own colleague, and a fellow advisor to the Autarch. I will not have you disrupting the palace in your campaign to see her fall from grace. Not without actual proof of wrongdoing." <br><br> "But…" <br><br> <<include "uhohthereturn">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Riel glances back at you and adds, "Judging by the context, however, it seems likely that she orchestrated the connection in order to build a secondary support network—a fallback system, if you will—in case she ever fell out with the Autarch or decided to remove herself from the Sun Court, for various reasons." <<include 'sibellatradequestion'>>

"You will see in the letters that she made trades with this Vizier, first to acquire Karzaki spellbooks and arcane texts in order to study their brand of dark magic, then worked her way up to requesting that an estate and a state seal be prepared for her, should she ever need to flee to Karzai," you add. The High Augur's eyebrows rise; clearly he wasn't expecting treason of this magnitude, even from De Vespe. "These are troubling revelations, indeed," he says. He glances again at the letters. "You say she made a series of trades. If the Karzakis were sending her spellbooks and letters of marque, what was the High Court Mystic sending them in turn?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $amezuknow is true and $intelligence >= 50>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"We believe she was sending them shipments of Leashed or Shackled servants, Your Grace. The ones she knew wouldn't be missed. Presumably they were used as slave labor or studied by the Karzaki Mages as a way of learning Sibella's techniques."</div>' 'autogenerated_686334'>><<setintelligence +1>><<setriel +1>><<setlavinet +1>><<setbriony +1>><</link>><</if>> <<if $intelligence >= 50>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"The letters seem to reference human captives, Your Grace. It sounds as if Sibella has been sending palace servants or slaves to Karzai."</div>' 'autogenerated_686335'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"We're not sure, Your Grace. Perhaps spellbooks or diagrams of her own? The letters reference some kind of cultural exchange."</div>' 'autogenerated_686336'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Like a mad scientist sending specimens for a colleague to take a poke, you think with some disgust. High Augur Arameri glances at you, clearly surprised that you know about the existence of the Shackled and the Leashed and can speak about them in such plain terms… but if he's concerned about this at all, he doesn't show it. "I see. This case grows graver and graver with each passing moment." He looks around at you all. "And how, exactly, was she able to send communiqués with the Karzaki Vizier without being noticed?" <<include 'sibellacommquestion'>>

The High Augur lifts his brows. "But why? It's not as if Karzai has some special need of laborers. Why would they want them?" He looks around at you all. "And how, exactly, was she able to send communiqués with the Karzaki Vizier without being noticed?" <<include 'sibellacommquestion'>>

The High Augur lifts his brows. "I see. This case grows graver and graver with each passing moment." He looks around at you all. "And how, exactly, was she able to send communiqués with the Karzaki Vizier without being noticed?" <<include 'sibellacommquestion'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $sibellaevidence >= 3 and $intelligence >= 50>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"She has a 'private language tutor' visit her rooms frequently, sir, on the pretense of learning Korkyth as part of a hobby. He is a spy and courier for Karzai and passes her messages back and forth."</div>' 'autogenerated_686337'>><<setintelligence +1>><<setriel +1>><<setlavinet +1>><<setbriony +1>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"There are a dozen ways to get messages in and out of the Sun Court, sir, especially because she doesn't live directly in the Dawn Palace."</div>' 'croelleintervention'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"We've uncovered some information on him, too," you add. "If he can be found and arrested, he'll likely reinforce our case." <<include 'croelleintervention'>>

The High Augur sighs heavily, sitting back and shaking his head, almost in wonder at the extent of De Vespe's machinations. As if to hammer the point home, Croelle steps in and finishes: "Contacting Karzai at all is treason. Arranging a foreign spy to enter the Sun Court under false pretenses is treason. Dabbling in profane Karzai magic and forbidden dark arts is treason—and heresy. Requesting a foreign estate to be secretly prepared in case she wants to flee is treason. Stealing the Autarch's property—the palace slaves she's been trading off to Karzai—is treason. The case against De Vespe is black with sedition, High Augur. The Inquisition intends to bring the highest possible charges against her." "Oh, I am well aware of the weight of these crimes, High Inquisitor," Arameri says wearily. He traces his pale mouth with an age-crooked finger before he says, "I suppose she will claim that these letters are forged, faked and planted by her enemies. She has no shortage of rivals, after all. What evidence do we have to waylay such a claim?" "That was our part of the investigation, High Augur," Riel says then, speaking in the same remote, languid tone that the augur had adopted at the beginning of this meeting—as if he couldn't care less about the outcome of this mission. "We've gathered several eyewitness reports and signatures from nobles here in the Sun Court who have seen Lady De Vespe engaged in secret liaisons with her Karzaki tutor, or otherwise engaged in suspicious activity that confirms the truth of this conspiracy. She is no innocent. All of these accounts proclaim her guilt." <<include "augurpetitioncheck">>

"How interesting," the High Augur murmurs. "May I see this list of signatures?" You're the one who steps forward with the list you've put together, ascending the steps to pass the parchment to High Augur Arameri. You don't touch, but there's something about the way he looks into your face as you hand him the document that chills you slightly. You can see, suddenly, how he holds so much sway over Enik Goldenson: there's something about the man's presence that's effortlessly commanding and patriarchal, regardless of who you are or what deeds you've accomplished. His expression doesn't change in the least, but there's <i>something</i> about him that makes the recipient of his gaze both cowed and hopeful of impressing him, of gaining his approval. It's quite an interesting effect to observe. The High Augur scans your list of names as you retreat to a respectful distance once more. From your position at the bottom of the dais, <<nobr>><<if ($darktomesibella is true and $petition >= 7) or ($darktomesibella is false and $petition >= 10)>> you think he might be impressed: he tilts his head consideringly, clearly intrigued. <br><br> "Well, well," he says. "You have a compelling list of allies here." <br><br> "Witnesses, Your Grace," Riel puts in delicately. <br><br> High Augur Arameri doesn't quite smile, but he seems amused regardless. "As you say." <br><br> He crooks a finger, and a scribe hurries out of the shadows of a nook—so there were still some people here, after all: was it magic that concealed them?—to take the petition with a bow. Once the man has scuttled off, High Augur Arameri turns back to you and says plainly, "Well, I won't deny that you have done everything you possibly could to condemn the High Court Mystic. The accounts of so many respected—and disparate—nobles is certainly persuasive, even if their recollections could be picked apart in court—for I believe the willingness of so many different parties to align against the High Court Mystic is indicative of a movement in the Sun Court itself. A sentiment that should not be ignored. Even if their stories are not quite airtight, their readiness to provide them means that Sibella De Vespe is in more danger of being ousted than even she suspects. It would be foolish for any ruler to ignore that reality." He tilts his head. <<if $darktomesibella is true>> "And the profane text itself is damning." <<else>> "And the letters themselves, of course, are damning." <</if>> <br><br> You hold your breath as he continues to consider the matter. Then the High Augur looks at you and says words that make your heart sink. <br><br> <b>"And yet."</b> <br><br> <<page_break "Next" "auguryet">> <<else>> <<set $sibellafate to "fail">> <<setreputation -10>> it's hard to read his expression: his lids fall, and the corners of his mouth turn down. <br><br> "I see," he says after a handful of long moments. And then, almost carelessly, he sets the document to the side, as indifferently as if it were a list of party supplies. Your heart sinks. <br><br> "Well," the High Augur says in a tone of brisk dismissal, "thank you for bringing this to my attention. The matter deserves much consideration, to be sure. I will have to think on things." <br><br> <i>No, no.</i> Did you not do enough, gather enough powerful and credible names? You cast a glance at the others: Lavinet looks stony-faced, Riel is grim with anger. Briony has a look of flat-out despair on her face. Even Croelle looks a bit disappointed, though the expression is more lazy and resigned, as if he should have expected this all along. <i>This can't be the end of it</i>, you think desperately. "If it's a matter of more witnesses," you begin, "with more time, we could…" <br><br> High Augur Arameri casts you an quelling look. "I think not," he says mildly. "You will do nothing more until I consider the matter further, <<c rank>>." <br><br> "But…" <br><br> <<include "uhohthereturn">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $sibellapoisoned is true>> <<include "sibellapoisonedfallout">> <<else>> <<include "andyetconvincearameri">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<set $sibellafate to "fail">><<setreputation -10>><<setintelligence -10>><<setcunning -10>><<setriel -10>><<setlavinet -10>><<setbriony -5>> <</nobr>> Beside you, Briony shifts impatiently, and an expression of faint irritation crosses Croelle's face. Only Riel and Lavinet remain completely impassive. "And yet," High Augur Arameri murmurs. "I have reason to believe you are not as objective as you like to make yourself out to be, <<c rank>>. Is it true that you asked a trusted officer of this court to collude with you in poisoning Sibella de Vespe?" Your heart plummets like a rock. <i>That damned, rotten-hearted, no-good Cynster...</i> Riel doesn't outwardly react, but Briony's head turns towards you, her eyes wide and startled. Lavinet goes white—with fear, anger, or shock, you can't exactly say. Croelle rolls his eyes and snorts, an incredulous, derisive sound, as if he should have known this was all going to be a waste of his time. The contemptuous look on his face advertises his disdain: <i>Fucking amateurs.</i> You open your mouth to explain, to cast doubt on the story or to deflect blame, but High Augur Arameri lifts up a hand and says quietly, "Please. Honor Cynster's loyalty is not to be questioned. Nor is her version of events. You can understand, <<c rank>>, why I should choose to believe her account over yours. Your ulterior motives in this case are almost insultingly clear. It's no good pretending you haven't been caught out." He shakes his head. "No crime has technically been committed—I am sure we could all draw out a long tribunal in which you claim that Honor Cynster misunderstood a joke you made, or you were simply playing along with her—but given all the odds against us, I cannot approach the Autarch with this evidence when anyone could, in turn, point to Lady Cynster's account of what you said and planned against Lady De Vespe. It completely undermines and discredits your case, your objectivity. I would be made a laughingstock of the court if I were to publicly back you." <i>No, no.</i> You feel as if the walls are shrinking around you, as if darkness is roaring up to swallow the corners of your vision. You did everything right. You got enough signatures, you practically sold your damn soul, and <i>this</i> is what brings it all toppling down? It can't be. You can't even look at the others: Lavinet looks stony-faced and resigned now, and Riel won't even look at you, his face tight with some emotion. Briony has a look of flat-out despair on her face. <i>This can't be the end of it</i>, you think desperately. "Forget what I said to Cynster, sir," you begin. "I only said it in order to draw her out, see what she knew about De Vespe..." High Augur Arameri casts you an quelling look. "In doing so, you committed an act of treason," he says coolly. "Even pretending to assassinate a political figure... People have been thrown in the dungeons for far less." "But…" <<include "uhohthereturn">>

"And yet," High Augur Arameri murmurs. "This still may not be enough to persuade the Autarch himself. Doubtless you have seen, throughout your investigations, the amount of trust he invests in the High Court Mystic. He created her position and elevated her to it himself. She built his Chrysalis for him, preserves his trust in his servants"—this is an oblique reference to the Leashed and Shackled, of course—"and serves as one of his chief advisors and confidants. More than that, she is incredibly clever and persuasive, even without the use of her Enchanting magic, which of course she won't be able to use against him. But the Autarch is already biased in her favor, and disinclined to believe findings delivered by the Shepherds, no matter how ironclad they might be. Sibella could still find ways to convince him to discredit your evidence in favor of her own account." He tilts his head at Croelle. "Your input, High Inquisitor, will weigh heavily in the Shepherds' favor, for I know the Autarch trusts you, as well. But if it were merely between you and Sibella De Vespe, I would say the scales are weighed exactly evenly, or perhaps even a bit more on her side, for I know you are not as close with the Golden One as you were when he was the Grand Inquisitor. It will take a very powerful intercession to tip things in your favor now." "That idea was that you would be that intercession," Croelle answers dryly, evidently not able to forego sarcasm even in these circumstances. "Hence why we brought this to you." The High Augur smiles faintly. "Just so. And yet it will still be a great effort on my part to turn his heart against De Vespe, and I threaten my own position of trust as his advisor if I press the case with him too far. He may begin to think that I have interests other than his own at heart, or he may begin to chafe at and resent my counsel… And I admit I am loath to jeopardize our relationship and risk that." He traces his lips thoughtfully. "I may have to allow you to present your case to him yourself, without my involvement… Though if I think you were to do that, there would be then be the strong possibility of Lady De Vespe winning." Briony lets out an audible growl of frustration. Internally, you echo it: doesn't anyone in this damn palace ever do anything without some ulterior motive? Even with the evidence you've gathered, you still need High Augur Arameri to convince Enik of its merit and pressure him to condemn Sibella—preferably before she has the chance to retaliate against the Shepherds. What can you say that will convince him to help you? <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Surely you can see the threat that Sibella de Vespe poses, Your Grace. Allowing her to continue to have the Autarch's ear isn't good for any of us. Wouldn't getting rid of her benefit you, as well?"</div>' 'sibellathreatarameri'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Plead our case because it's right, Your Grace. We have solid proof that Sibella de Vespe is committing treason and dabbling in forbidden magic. She has violated the laws of the Autarch and the One-God. Surely that can't be allowed to stand."</div>' 'sibellarightarameri'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You must know some of what De Vespe is really up to: the Leashing, the Chrysalis, her spies and plays for power. Don't you ever fear that you could be the next one to fall under her spell?"</div>' 'sibellafeararameri'>><</link>> <<if $rank is "Commander">><<link '<div class="choice-item">"There must be something that you want, High Augur. The support of the Shepherds in your own endeavors, perhaps?"</div>' 'autogenerated_686338'>><<setcunning -5>><<setcharisma -5>><<setintelligence -5>><<setloyal -5>><<setcroelle -5>><<setlavinet -5>><<setbriony -5>><<setriel -5>><<set $sibellafate to "fail">><<setreputation -5>><</link>><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

High Augur Arameri grants you a hard look. "That is a presumptuous statement, <<c rank>>," he says in a cold tone. "There is nothing the Shepherds could give me that I could not procure myself. And more than that… my decisions are not dictated on such simplistic terms." You wince: though you sort of doubt that, given what you've seen of the Sun Court and how it works, it's clear this was the wrong tact to try with the High Augur. He shakes his head and lets out a sigh that doesn't sound promising. "I must think on this more," he begins. "It seems that…" <<include 'uhohthereturn'>>

<<nobr>><<if $darktomesibella is true>> <<if $charisma >= 75 and $cunning >= 50>> <<include "threatsibellaright">> <<else>> <<include "threatsibellawrong">> <</if>> <<else>> <<if $charisma >= 90 and $cunning >= 75>> <<include "threatsibellaright">> <<else>> <<include "threatsibellawrong">> <</if>> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $darktomesibella is true>> <<if ($charisma >= 70 and $compassionate >= 75) or ($faith >= 90 and $belief is "one-god")>> <<include "sibellaplearight">> <<else>> <<include "sibellapleawrong">> <</if>> <<else>> <<if ($charisma >= 80 and $compassionate >= 90) or ($faith >= 100 and $belief is "one-god")>> <<include "sibellaplearight">> <<else>> <<include "sibellapleawrong">> <</if>> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $darktomesibella is true>> <<if $compassionate < 50 and $cunning >= 70>> <<include "sibellathreatright">> <<else>> <<include "sibellathreatwrong">> <</if>> <<else>> <<if $compassionate < 40 and $cunning >= 80>> <<include "sibellathreatright">> <<else>> <<include "sibellathreatwrong">> <</if>> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<set $sibellafate to "success">> <<setcharisma +5>> <<setcunning +5>><<setreputation +10>><</nobr>> The High Augur regards you for a long moment. "That is true," he finally concedes. "Long have I wondered if the High Court Mystic's presence is… distracting to the Autarch, more than what is useful." It's interesting to note the relative irreverence with which he refers to Enik: instead of the divine, infallible figure that most people paint the Autarch as, Arameri clearly regards his protégé as just another man… something which probably comes from knowing the "Golden One" from the time since he was a child. "There is, for example, the urgent matter of securing an heir and the line of succession for the throne, something which the Autarch has proved curiously reluctant to begin. I have wondered if getting rid of Sibella de Vespe might help to… expedite the process. Removing such distractions, after all, is imperative." Then, surprisingly, he gives Lavinet a long and interested look. "To that end, Lady Naveen," he says in a voice like silk, "I wonder if I might arrange a personal meeting between you and the Autarch someday. As a man of the Church, I am not one to hold parties or social gatherings, but I'm sure we can find some opportunity?" He phrases it as a question, but there's nothing about his tone that allows room for argument. Lavinet's smile remains perfectly cool and polite, though you see Briony's eyes widen; her face goes white as she realizes Arameri's possible implications. Lavinet dips her chin in another curtsy, her gloved hands relaxed and loose on her skirts. "It would be the highest honor, Your Grace," she says evenly, her lashes lowered. "I once met the Autarch many years ago, but he took little notice of me at the time…" "Circumstances have changed," Arameri says kindly. "You have changed. I believe there is much about you now that he would take notice of." Despite yourself, you meet Riel's blue gaze as you glance at each other, gauging the other's reaction to this latest development. Imperceptibly, Riel gives the faintest shake of his head, but from the flat, displeased look on his face and the way the corners of his mouth turn down, you imagine he's saying something like: <i>Let's just take these things one at a fucking time.</i> <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You're alarmed. In buying Arameri's alliance, have you just thrown Lavinet to the lions?</div>' 'autogenerated_686339'>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setloyal +1>><<setlavinet +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You're intrigued. It's far too early to mean anything, but the idea of Lavinet being touted as a prospective wife to the Autarch was one you never considered...</div>' 'autogenerated_686340'>><<set $lavinetromanceflag -= 5>><<setcunning +5>><<setcompassionate -5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You're curious what Lavinet herself is thinking. You can't read her thoughts from here.</div>' 'succeedcondemnsibella'>><<setlavinet +2>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You're annoyed. It never ends with these people.</div>' 'autogenerated_686341'>><</link>> <<if $lavinetromanceflag >= 15>><<link '<div class="choice-item">A fire ignites inside of your chest at the thought. Over your dead goddamned body!</div>' 'autogenerated_686342'>><<set $lavinetromanceflag += 1>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Riel's right: you can't think about any of this now. You just have to take these things one at a time.</div>' 'autogenerated_686343'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Beside you, Briony bites her lip, quivering like an arrow waiting to be unleashed from a bow drawn too tightly. <<include 'succeedcondemnsibella'>>

Would it be a good thing or a bad thing? Leaving out Lavinet's determination to marry for love, strategically, it might be the most interesting thing that could possibly happen for the Shepherds… <<include 'succeedcondemnsibella'>>

Out of the frying pan and into the fire, as they say… <<include 'succeedcondemnsibella'>>

You clench your fists, gritting your teeth at the thought of Lavinet being married to <i>Enik Goldenson</i>! You'll commit treason before you let that happen! <<include 'succeedcondemnsibella'>>

<i>Worry it about later</i>, you tell yourself. <i><b>After</b> we figure out what to do about De Vespe. </i> <<include 'succeedcondemnsibella'>>

<<set $sibellafate to "fail">><<setreputation -5>>The High Augur regards you for a long moment. "Yes and no," he finally says idly. "While it is true she has the Autarch's ear, I have his other; and Sibella de Vespe is a known variable. If she were to be ousted, who would replace her as High Court Mystic? Perhaps someone even more troubling…" He shakes his head slowly. "I must think on this more." <<include "uhohthereturn">>

<<nobr>><<setcharisma +5>> <<setcompassionate +5>> <<set $sibellafate to "success">><<setreputation +10>><</nobr>> He is a man of faith, after all: any <i>true</i> believer of the One-God should be forced to act against this clear wrongdoing and violation of his convictions. High Augur Arameri stares at you for a moment, his pale mouth twitching, before he finally inclines his head in concession, saying dryly, "You choose your thrust aptly and capably, <<c rank>>, like a true duelist. Of course, you are right. Politics aside, I would be both a fool and a sinner if I were to knowingly allow Sibella de Vespe to continue her use of dark magic in the Sun Court. Not only is it a physical danger to us all, especially the Autarch, it is also a spiritual threat and a violation of moral law. As High Augur, I <i>must</i> act—whatever the earthly cost. Even if I lose the Autarch's trust, I will not have betrayed the One-God. That is all that matters, in the cosmic scope of things. I thank you for reminding me of that." He lapses into thoughtful silence for a moment as you try to suppress your relief. <<include "succeedcondemnsibella">>

<<nobr>><<set $sibellafate to "fail">><<setreputation -5>><</nobr>> High Augur Arameri frowns, considering your words… but he doesn't seem fully convinced. "I must think on this," he says, and the doubt in his voice makes your heart sink. "I will pray to the One-God, of course, but it is not so simple as you claim…" <<include "uhohthereturn">>

<<nobr>><<setcompassionate -5>> <<setcunning +5>><<setreputation +10>> <<set $sibellafate to "success">><</nobr>> High Augur Arameri frowns at you. "I <i>fear</i> nothing," he says in a tone of delicate, gentle chastisement. But then his frown deepens. "But you are correct that it would be foolish to ignore such a clear threat when a warning of it arises before real harm can be done. You are correct that De Vespe's powers have gone relatively unchecked so far. To hear that she is dabbling in illicit magic, flouting all divine and moral law, indicates that she no longer fears the Autarch's authority, if she ever did. To allow such flagrant violation to pass without answer would be very neglectful indeed, even if I myself have nothing to fear from her. But there is the Autarch to think about, and his other allies…" He's silent for a long moment as you try not to let loose a sigh of relief. Riel casts you a triumphant look that tells you he believes your point has landed. <<include "succeedcondemnsibella">>

<<nobr>><<set $sibellafate to "fail">><<setreputation -5>><</nobr>>High Augur Arameri gives you a severe frown. "I have nothing to fear," he tells you in a much colder, sterner tone. "I have the protection and love of my god, as does the Autarch. What have we to fear from the likes of a simple Mage like Sibella de Vespe?" He shakes his head as your heart sinks: clearly this was not the correct tactic to try with him. "I must think on this more," High Augur Arameri says, though he sounds unconvinced. "Perhaps if…" <<include "uhohthereturn">>

High Augur Arameri stirs. "Well, you have convinced me," he says finally. "Very well; I will bring this to the Autarch at once. Between the three of us"—he means himself, as Enik's Right Hand; Croelle, as his prospective Left; and the Shepherds—"we will be able to convince the Golden One of the right thing to do. I will see the former High Court Mystic stripped of her rank and taken to the dungeons tonight myself." You have to keep yourself from smiling, or from jumping in the air from joy and relief. Beside you, Riel says seriously, "Would you like us to assist with the arrest, Your Grace? Lady De Vespe is a powerful Mage in her own right, and we Shepherds are well-equipped to counter that." "Oh, please do," Briony breathes to herself, feverishly. "Please let me do it, <i>please</i>…" <<nobr>><<if $briony >= 90>> She glances at you, and a magic-infused, wicked little thought brushes against your mind. <i>Maybe she'll resist and give me the chance to pummel her sharmooti face in… </i> <</if>><</nobr>> However, High Augur Arameri waves his hand. "I don't think that will be necessary," he replies. "We have Inquisitors and Court Mages aplenty who will have her well in hand before she gets the chance to resist: they have their own ways of negating even her powers. Wouldn't you agree, High Inquisitor?" Croelle nods shortly, though it seems even he can't suppress the vicious triumph in his eyes at the thought. "I don't suppose they will risk magically prying into her thoughts for the truth," the High Augur continues musingly. "In that respect, I think, Sibella <i>is</i> the more powerful in most cases, and there would be far too much risk of her reversing the intrusion and taking control of the interrogator somehow. Or trying some other trickery, such as presenting some false smokescreen or constructed memory to throw doubt on the evidence at hand." <<nobr>><<if $darktomesibella is true>> That's probably a mercy, you think, considering the fact that anyone probing Sibella's thoughts would discover that she did not, in fact, acquire the dark tome somewhere. Though that could probably be explained, too, as some mind-altering trickery she used to protect herself from condemnation… <</if>><</nobr>> Arameri shakes his head. "No, I think, an immediate confinement using thoret and a minimized ability to persuade, lie, enchant, or trick her way out of things would be best…" "Silencing her magically and rendering her mute would be safest," Croelle adds, stone-faced. "That way she won't be able to give some verbal signal or code-word to any allies waiting in the wings, or do some greater harm we can't foresee. We especially shouldn't let her speak to the Autarch himself." High Augur nods slowly. "You are correct, High Inquisitor. Sibella's tongue is her most dangerous weapon, so she must be silenced immediately. And she will certainly be kept from prevailing on the Autarch's mercy or influencing him in any way. He must be presented with the cold facts without allowing her to sway his opinion of them." Beside you, Lavinet's wrist gives a kind of happy twitch. It's all panning out even better than you'd imagined: if Sibella is silenced, then there's no risk of her unveiling the blackmail information she has on the Shepherds out of spite, or talking her way out of her conviction. If you finagle things right, Croelle should even be able to destroy her papers on you all before less generous eyes discover them. Have you actually won? "Do you think she'll go to prison, Your Grace?" Briony asks with a tone of false innocence then, unable to keep a hint of eagerness from her tone. High Augur Arameri regards her with his appraising blue eyes. "Oh, I have no doubt this case will end in execution," he says simply. "If we can convince the Autarch of her guilt, he will have no choice but to sentence her to death himself. He has punished people for far, far less." <<include "uhohthereturn">>

Then, abruptly, for seemingly no reason at all, Croelle goes rigid beside you. At that precise moment, another servant reappears from a hidden side door and hurries up the dais to the High Augur's side, stooping to whisper something into the old man's ear. High Augur Arameri frowns as he listens, his expression growing tense and inward, his brows lowering until he looks downright thunderous. You catch the words "<i>returned</i>," "<i>sent no notice</i>," and "<i>waiting in the throne room</i>…" Before you can ask what's going on, you find your arm being seized in a familiar vice-like grip, almost seeming on the verge of crushing your flesh and bone to pulp. You hiss in protest, looking up into Croelle's face… and then you go still at his expression. His eyes are suddenly blazing with gold fire, like the moon-glint of some night-hunting panther, wild and intense and foreboding. The air around him smells of coppery metal; urgency and a savage insistence radiate from him in cold waves. "You need to leave," he says, his lips barely moving. Despite that, you see a glimpse of a pointed canine. "<b><i>Now</i></b>." You look at him in confusion as the others rally around you, frowning; High Augur Arameri, still deep in conversation with his servant, doesn't seem to notice. "What? But what about De Vespe?" "She's the least of your fucking problems now," Croelle spits then, giving you a little shake. "<i>Listen to me</i>. Leave. Right now. Don't dally. Don't linger. Go straight home." He glances up at the augur, then looks off into the distance, his head cocked as if listening to some far-off song. And his hand falls to that strange thin sword at his side. "It's not going to be good for you if you stay." The warning in his tone is clear and dire. Your heart begins to pound with a grim relentless urgency, making your head thump with it. Despite yourself, a cold sweat breaks out on your body. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Trust him. You turn to the others. "Let's go."</div>' 'autogenerated_686344'>><<setcroelle +10>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Shake him off. "Stop grabbing me like you own me."</div>' 'autogenerated_686345'>><<setcroelle -20>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Luckily, at the same moment that you're gathering yourselves to leave, the High Augur rises from his own throne. "You must forgive me," he begins, distracted and troubled already; it's clear you've already left his thoughts. "I must attend to something. You can show yourselves out. High Inquisitor?" Croelle nods shortly, making to follow him. He casts one last foreboding glower at you from over his shoulder before he disappears. Deciding to heed his warning, you, Riel, Lavinet, and Briony decide to hightail it out of the Sun Court—and its infamous den of serpents—as fast as your feet can carry you. <<include 'trustedcroelle'>>

Croelle's look hardens, and for a dangerous moment you think he might actually move to… what? Strike you? Beside you, <<nobr>> <<if $lavinet > $riel and $lavinet > $briony>> Lavinet's hand balls into a fist. <<elseif $riel > $lavinet and $riel > $briony>> Riel's hand tightens on his walking cane. <<else>> Briony's hand falls to the hidden blade strapped to her thigh. <</if>><</nobr>> Luckily, the High Augur rises from his throne just then. "You must forgive me," he begins, distracted and troubled already; it's clear you've already left his thoughts. "I must attend to something. You can show yourselves out. High Inquisitor?" Croelle nods shortly, then makes to follow him. He casts one last foreboding glower at you from over his shoulder before he disappears. Despite your protests—what about De Vespe? How do you know the High Augur will remember to plead your case?—the servants practically propel the four of you out of the Dawn Palace, ejecting you into the cool spring night with unseemly rapidity and force. They seem uneasy, not exactly terrified, but it's clear that something is happening that no one was expecting. However, they refuse to answer your questions and withdraw back into the sanctuary of the palace without a word. The rest of the Sun Court district seems untroubled, if a little quiet, and it's with utter bafflement that you decide to make the journey home, wondering at this abrupt turn of events all the way. Curiously, you find that even the walk in the balmy night air fails to calm your nerves; your heart pulses thickly in the hollow of your throat, and even after the journey through the peaceful, oblivious streets, even after you've made it home safe… you can't shake the feeling that something is terribly, dreadfully wrong. It takes a long, long time for your heart to stop its fearful spasms. <<include 'finishchapter9'>>

No one follows you or moves to stop you as you make your out of the Dawn Palace or the Sun Court. In fact, nothing seems to happen at all, the cool spring night quiet and pleasant and unbroken, the few nobles wandering around the green looking unfazed and untroubled. But somehow, even after the journey back through the oblivious, peaceful city, even after you've made it home safe… you can't shake off the feeling that something is terribly, dreadfully wrong. It takes a long, long time for your heart to stop its fearful spasms. <<include "finishchapter9">>

<<page_break "End Chapter" "endchapterscreen9">>

<div class="box"><span class="endchaptersummary"> <center><span class="heading">Mission Summary</span></center> <br> <span class="bulleticon"><span class="fas fa-chevron-right"></span></span>&emsp; You were summoned to the Sun Court by Sibella de Vespe, the new High Court Mystic and the Autarch's close personal advisor. With very little notice to arm yourself and prepare, you decided to bring Riel, Lavinet, and Briony with you under the pretense of accompanying Lavinet for her official court debut. Upon arriving to the Sun Court, you were confronted by a face from the past: Croelle, the second-in-command of the Inquisitors and Enik's rumored Left Hand. <br><br><span class="bulleticon"><span class="fas fa-chevron-right"></span></span>&emsp; Croelle informed you of the sinister underpinnings at work in the Sun Court. Sibella de Vespe has been using her magic to turn Diminished captives and victims of the Chrysalis into mindless palace slaves in a process called Leashing. Her latest experiment and purported magnum opus, however, is called a geas: an insidious and undetectable spell that subtly infiltrates and controls a victim without their even realizing it, nudging them to behave in ways that serve the Sun Court without altering their outward personality or appearance of free will. It is the most subversive method of brainwashing you've heard of yet—and De Vespe's intentions seemed to be to test out this new weapon on you. <br><br><span class="bulleticon"><span class="fas fa-chevron-right"></span></span>&emsp; Although thwarted by Croelle's presence and temporary offer of alliance, De Vespe resorted to a backup plan: blackmailing you and your companions in order to seize control of the Shepherds. With only a day to consider her bargain and act, you decided to bring De Vespe down for good: <<if $darktomesibella is true>>by planting your profane dark tome in her room and gathering false evidence from other Sun Courtiers claiming to have witnessed her use of it. <<else>> by uncovering any evidence of actions that would discredit her with the Autarch and seeing her jailed for treason. <</if>> <br><br><span class="bulleticon"><span class="fas fa-chevron-right"></span></span>&emsp; You plunged into the political machinations of the Sun Court as if your life depended <<if $sibellainvestigationsuccessful is true>>on it, even resorting to infiltrating and searching De Vespe's personal rooms for evidence. <<else>> on it. <</if>> <<if $sibellainvestigationsuccessful is true>> In the end, you were able to uncover what you were after: proof that De Vespe has been conspiring with allies in the enemy state of Karzai behind Enik Goldenson's back. <</if>> You approached High Augur Arameri, the Autarch's Right Hand, with your findings and a list of witnesses, hoping to persuade him to bring formal charges against De Vespe. <br><br><span class="bulleticon"><span class="fas fa-chevron-right"></span></span>&emsp; <<if $sibellafate is "success">>Fortunately, you were able to sway him to your cause with the strength of your case, ensuring Sibella de Vespe's demise. <<else>> Unfortunately, your case was not strong enough to sway him to your cause, and High Augur Arameri was not convinced to help you bring down De Vespe. <</if>> Before you would personally witness the fallout of your actions, however, a mysterious event seemed to rock the Sun Court, necessitating your hasty exit at Croelle's behest... </span><span class="endchaptersummary2"></span></div> <br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "endchapter9levelup">> <<set $health to 100>> <<if $rank is "Commander">><<set $gold += 200>><<else>><<set $gold += 100>><</if>> <<set $part to 10>> <<if ($sibellafate is "success")>> <<setorder +5>> <<setblade +5>> <<settrouble +5>> <<settallys +5>> <<setshery +5>> <<setriel +10>> <<setchase +5>> <<setred +5>> <<setayla +5>> <<setbriony +10>> <<sethalek +5>> <<setlavinet +10>> <<setcroelle +10>> <<if ((($darktomesibella is true) and ($petition >= 7)) or (($darktomesibella is false) and ($petition >= 10)))>> <<set $noblejoin to true>> <<set $army += 3>> <<set $resources += 1>> <<set $shepherdgold += 100>><</if>> <<else>> <<set $resources -= 3>> <<set $army -= 3>> <<setorder -10>> <<setblade -5>> <<settrouble -5>> <<settallys -5>> <<setshery -5>> <<setriel -10>> <<setchase -5>> <<setred -5>> <<setayla -5>> <<setbriony -10>> <<sethalek -5>> <<setlavinet -10>> <</if>> <</link>></center>

<<unset $moveon>> <<unset $rhiennetalk>> <<unset $discussdarktome to false>> <<unset $romar>> <<unset $rhienne>> <<unset $sibellaevidence>> <<unset $romarrhienneaffairknow>> <<unset $romarwipelie>> <<unset $romarwipe>> <<unset $sibellapartner>> <<unset $knowsibellaprotection>> <div class="box"><span class="column-icon"><span class="endchaptericon"><i class="fas fa-coins"></i></span></span><span class="column-2"><span class="heading">Gold</span><br><<if $rank is "Commander">>You gained 200 deucalions as part of your Shepherd's pay. <<else>>You gained 100 deucalions as part of your Shepherd's pay.<</if>></span></div> <div class="box"><span class="column-icon"><span class="endchaptericon"><i class="fas fa-first-aid"></i></span></span><span class="column-2"><span class="heading">Health</span><br>Your health has been fully restored.</span></div> <<page_break "next" "chapter10start">>

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<<audio ":playing" fadeoverto 7 0>> <<if $commandtime is 0>> <<include "commandtime0">> <<elseif $commandtime is 1>> <<include "commandtime1">> <<else>> [This content is incomplete. Please check back later.] <br><br> <<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "dayoff">><<set $dayoff -= 1>><</link>> <</if>>

<<set $commandtime += 1>> You've chosen a spacious office for yourself to conduct business as Commander-Legate. It's... <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">A sparse and businesslike space, so I can focus on being efficient.</div>' 'officechoice'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">A warm and cozy room, so people will feel comfortable being open with me.</div>' 'officechoice'>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">A powerful and intimidating office, so people will take me seriously.</div>' 'officechoice'>><<setcompassionate -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">An expensive and sumptuous area, to show off my status and position.</div>' 'officechoice'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Some recruits might not be used to this kind of space, but you're a commander now and it's yours. Shery pokes her head in through the doorway. "I appreciate your coming in on your day off, <<c firstname>>—oh, I mean, Commander! There are just so many things in the queue... but the workload should lighten up as things get settled soon and your duties are more evenly dispersed. I promise this won't take too long! Shall I start now?" You nod. "Let's hear what you've got, Shery." The quartermaster shuffles in, holding her infamous leather-bound booklet— its cover is embossed with the Shepherds' rampant hound. It's how she keeps track of everything on her agenda for the day. She adjusts her spectacles and says, "The first matter of the day is: we need to increase our hiring rate of Healers for the Order. As our number of active officers rises, so too does our need for more medical staff... Elemnestra and the others are holding down the fort, but she's recommended that we contract the supplemental services of a clinic in Ashtown. It has enough staff to send in assistants and support workers to help ease the workload of our primary Healers and keep them from over-exhausting themselves. They could take on night-shifts, handle lesser procedures, et cetera." She tucks her hair nervously behind her left ear. "However, the downside of this is that these clinic Healers are required to turn over their patient and medical records to the Autarchy, so if we were to contract their services..." She bites her lip. "Some of our medical information might be made known to the Inquisitors." <<nobr>><<if $specialization is "healer">> <br><br> "I could—" you begin. <br><br> Shery shakes her head before you can finish your thought. "You're too busy with acting as Commander and with your field missions, <<c firstname>>," she says, a bit more severely than is usual for her. "I know that you are more than a capable Healer yourself, but you simply can't stretch yourself that much—and what would happen if we relied on you, only for an emergency to happen while you were away? No, we need Healers whose <i>only</i> job is to help in the infirmary around the clock." <</if>><</nobr>> <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if ($shepherdgold >= 1000)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Hire as many supplemental Healers as we need. We don't have anything to hide." [1000 Shepherd Funds]</div>' 'healershired'>><<set $healer to true>><<set $resources += 1>><<set $army += 1>><<setloyal +5>><<set $teammorale += 1>><<set $teamdiscipline += 1>><<set $shepherdgold -= 1000>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($shepherdgold < 1000)>><div class="inactive-item">"Hire as many supplemental Healers as we need. We don't have anything to hide." [1000 Shepherd Funds]</div><</if>> <<if ($shepherdgold >= 500)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Let's interview the clinic staff and <i>only</i> choose the ones who seem to dislike the Autarchy. They might not be as trained, but they might be willing to falsify or withhold their reports." [500 Shepherd Funds]</div>' 'healersrestricted'>><<set $healer to true>><<set $shepherdgold -= 500>><<set $resources += 1>><<setloyal -10>><<setcunning +5>><<set $teammorale += 1>><<set $teamdiscipline -= 1>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Let's just keep working with the staff we have. It's been all right so far."</div>' 'nosupplements'>><<set $resources -= 1>><<set $army -= 1>><<set $teammorale -= 2>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Shery nods and makes a note to herself in her booklet. "Understood," she says. "While they'll be vetted thoroughly for their trustworthiness and intentions, we'll just have to hope they aren't forced to do anything that would violate our privacy. Maybe outside parties won't even be interested in accessing such information." She shakes her head. "Moving on..." <<include "foodissue">>

"That way they don't give away any valuable information to our enemies," you say. Shery blanches, but makes a note in her booklet. "It will be done," she murmurs. "I can only hope such qualifications don't limit our pool of Healers..." <<include "foodissue">>

Shery nods and makes a note in her booklet. "Understood," she says. "Moving on..." <<include "foodissue">>

She consults her records. "Next is the matter of food. The crop yield in Ambryn this year was poor due to rainfall. And with skyrocketing recruit numbers and high prices from merchants who don't like dealing with Diminished, it's becoming a little difficult to keep up the quality of ingredients in the refectory." She chews her lip. "We might need to either start cutting back on portions to save money, which will cause some unhappiness, or buy lower-quality ingredients, which might also cause a drop in morale..." <<include "food">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Let's start rationing more. No one needs more than three square meals a day."</div>' 'foodrationed'>><<set $army -= 1>><<set $resources -= 1>><<set $teammorale -= 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Let's buy lower-quality ingredients. They don't need gourmet meals to survive."</div>' 'foodquality'>><<set $army -= 1>><<set $resources += 1>><<set $teammorale -= 1>><</link>> <<if not hasVisited("chandryoption") and ($chandry > 1)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Doesn't Chandry know anyone who can give us quality ingredients at a discount?" [500 Shepherd Funds]</div>' 'chandryoption'>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($riel >= 65) and ($shepherdgold >= 300)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"This seems like something to ask Riel. With his merchant network, I'm sure we could find a way to maintain our standard of living." [300 Shepherd Funds]</div>' 'rieloption'>><<set $army += 1>><<set $resources += 1>><<set $teammorale += 1>><<setriel +3>><<set $shepherdgold -= 300>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($tallystime >= 2) and ($shepherdgold >= 300) and ($tallys >= 65)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"What about the Elven farmers in the valley? I bet Tallys could negotiate with them." [300 Shepherd Funds]</div>' 'tallysoption'>><<set $army += 1>><<set $resources += 1>><<set $teammorale += 1>><<settallys +3>><<set $shepherdgold -= 300>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($shepherdgold >= 1000)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"We've got to bite the bullet and buy at those prices. We can't let our recruits starve."</div>' 'expensiveoption'>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($shepherdgold < 1000)>><div class="inactive-item">"We've got to bite the bullet and buy at those prices. We can't let our recruits starve."</div><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $chandry < 2>> Shery shakes her head. "I don't believe so," she says. "He seems to deal more with antiques and weapons than fresh produce and food. I doubt he would have any contacts in that area." <<include "food">> <<elseif $shepherdgold >= 500>> <<set $army += 1>> <<set $resources +=1>> <<set $teammorale += 1>> <<set $shepherdgold -= 500>> Shery brightens. "That's true! I never would have thought of that!" She makes a note in her booklet. "I'll ask him right away." <br><br> <<include "nextitem">> <<else>> She tilts her head thoughtfully. "Maybe so," she says. "But I'm willing to bet we still couldn't afford even those discounts." <<include "food">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Shery nods and writes your decision down. <<include "nextitem">>

"Surely he must have contacts who would be willing to trade with us at better prices," you comment. "Let's ask him to persuade them." Shery's look brightens. "Of course!" She enthusiastically writes down a note to herself. "I feel so silly that it didn't occur to me sooner—I'll ask him right away!" <<include "nextitem">>

"Tallys showed me several farms in the Sun's Embrace once," you comment. "I'm sure if you ask her, she could talk to her associates and see if they would trade directly with us. I can't imagine why they'd have any qualms about it. They might even give us a discount." Shery's look brightens. "That's a wonderful idea!" she exclaims. She enthusiastically writes down a note to herself. "I'll ask her right away!" <<include "nextitem">>

Shery bites her lips, looking anxious. "It will be done," she says, making a note on her clipboard. <<include "nextitem">>

Then she turns to the last page in her booklet. <<nobr>><<if $cainejoin is true>> "There's just one last item on the agenda..." <<include "cainegoodboy">> <<else>> "I think that's all for today—I can take care of the rest." She smiles at you. "Thank you for your time, Commander." <br><br> <<page_break "..." "dayoff">> <</if>><</nobr>>

The office door bursts open then. Caine tumbles in, breathless and bright-eyed as usual. You raise a brow, but from the way Shery steps expectantly aside, you deduce that this is the last piece of business she has for you. Caine looks at you before he—rather dramatically—flings himself down at your feet. "Please, <<c firstname>>, I promise to take care of him, I'll feed him and bathe him and make sure he never bothers <i>anybody</i>—" You look at Shery. She hides a smile behind her notepad and says, "You came in too early, Caine. I haven't prepped the Commander yet." Instead of calming down, Caine's babbling rises to a frantic pitch. "What's going on?" you ask over his pleading. Shery laughs quietly. "He's talking about his stray dog, Good Boy. The one who's been living in the unused courtyard? He and Trouble built a lean-to for him, but..." "He's my <i>best friend</i>," Caine says with a theatrical sob, clasping your knees. "Can he <i>please</i> live inside with us? I know we're not allowed to have pets in the Order, but he's not a pet, he's a watch dog, I promise he can be <i>really</i> useful if you just let me train him! He can sleep in my room, he'll never bother <i>anyone</i> and I'll even share my meals with him if I have to—" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"All right, enough of your begging. Of course Good Boy can live inside. But only if you take good care of him!"</div>' 'allowgoodboy'>><<setcompassionate +3>><<setshery +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"All right, but we have to dress it up a bit, or <i>everyone</i> will be asking me to make an exception for their pet. How can we turn him into a working animal so we can justify this?"</div>' 'workingdog'>><<setcompassionate +3>><<setcunning +1>><<setshery +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm sorry, Caine, but we just can't do it."</div>' 'nogoodboy'>><<setintelligence +1>><<setcompassionate -1>><<setloyal +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Don't waste my time with this. Of course a stray can't live with us."</div>' 'harshrefusal'>><<setcompassionate -10>><<setshery -3>><<setloyal +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $gender is "female">> <<set $sheryromanceflag += 1>> <</if>> <<if $bladeromanceflag < 5>> <<setblade -2>> <</if>> <<setriel -2>> <<set $teammorale -= 1>> <<set $teamdiscipline -= 1>> <<settrouble +3>><</nobr>> It is strictly against the rules to have a pet in the Order... but how could you resist that face? There will probably be rumblings about your blatant favoritism over this, but Good Boy is already a fixture around the compound: who cares if he lives indoors or outdoors? He's already became a tacit mascot for the Shepherds, anyway. Caine instantly grins and leaps to his feet, desperate tears suddenly nowhere in sight. "Really, <<c firstname>>?!" You ruffle his hair. "Of course. You didn't even need to ask." Caine flings his arms around you, then whoops his thanks and runs out the door, presumably to go tell his new pet the good news. Shery smiles behind her hand and says, "That was kind of you. Now Caine will have a new friend—and the Order will have its own official mascot!" <<include "finalbusiness">>

<<nobr>><<if $gender is "female">> <<set $sheryromanceflag += 1>> <</if>> <<settrouble +3>><</nobr>> Caine grins and hops to his feet. "Really, <<c firstname>>?!" He thinks on it for a moment. "Well, he's <i>really</i> good at sniffing stuff. Maybe we can teach him how to sniff out Endarkened, or cursed or Tainted things, or magical artifacts, or maybe even <i>bombs</i>!" You nod slowly. "That's a start. How about you talk it over with the ahfuri Huntmaster and see if he has ideas for training our very first police hound?" Caine's eyes are already alight with ideas. "That'd be great! And then no one could say anything about him being around! I'll just be the one taking care of him, since he can't stay in the cattery with the ahfuri!" He suddenly hugs you. "Thanks, <<c firstname>>!" You ruffle his hair, smiling. "Of course." "Sounds good." You watch as he whoops his thanks and runs out the door, presumably to go tell his new pet the good news. Shery smiles behind her hand and says, "That was kind of you. Now Caine will have a new friend in his room—and the Order will have its own official mascot!" <<include "finalbusiness">>

"We don't have the resources," you tell the boy gently, who stares at you with wide and heartbroken eyes. "And it's the rules: if I let your dog stay with us, then everyone will be asking why <i>their</i> dogs and other pets can't be with them, and then it'd be a madhouse. This is a working military Order, and we just can't allow it. I'm sorry. He can still stay out in the courtyard." You watch as all of the hope is dumped out of Caine. Pale, he drags himself up on his feet and trails out the door. He leaves a sad, ghostly comment hanging over his shoulder: <i>"I understand..."</i> Shery looks regretful, but she says, "I understand your decision, <<c firstname>>. I'm just glad you were the one who had to tell him, and not me." <<include "finalbusiness">>

<<nobr>><<if $sheryromanceflag > 1>> <<set $sheryromanceflag -= 2>> <</if>><</nobr>> Caine recoils from you, as if you'd told him you had an infectious pox. Even Shery looks shocked by your harsh tone. Eyes brimming with tears, Caine asks querulously, "Really, <<c firstname>>?" You draw your chin up. "Really," you say firmly. "And it's Commander <<c surname>>, not <<c firstname>>." You look at Shery. "You're supposed to be my filter, Shery. You shouldn't waste my time with things like this in the first place." Shery lowers her gaze to the floor, uttering an almost-inaudible apology. "I'm sorry—I didn't think..." "No," you tell her, cutting her off. "You didn't." Caine scrambles to his feet and runs out of your office without another word. Shery carefully doesn't look at you in the midst of the silence he leaves behind. <<include "finalbusiness">>

She consults her booklet one last time and says, "I think that's all for today. Thank you for your time, Commander." <<page_break "..." "dayoff">>

<<nobr>><<set $commandtime += 1>> /* newspaper interview: get a chance to deny or accept (drop in reputation), newspaper journalist seems like a dick, can be a dick back or diplomatic (reputation), decide to use funds for defense or armory, decide captains and squads (Orgael Squad, Nante Squad, Corvus Squad, etc. decide who should lead what) */ <</nobr>> You don't even get a chance to settle into your chair before Shery enters, holding her classic booklet and looking a little sheepish. "Some tough issues to deal with today, Commander," she comments, tucking her hair behind her ears in a businesslike way. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Bring it on."</div>' 'readytobegin'>><<setcourage +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Oh, great. I'm <i>so</i> looking forward to it." <b>[SARCASTIC]</b></div>' 'sarcasticshery'>><</link>> <<if ($sheryromance is true) or ($sheryromanceflag >= 10) or ($highestromance is "shery")>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"You're too pretty to be delivering bad news, you know."</div>' 'flirtrespond'>><<setshery +1>><<set $sheryromanceflag += 1>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Shery, could you at least call me by my name, not 'Commander'?"</div>' 'nameresponse'>><<setloyal -2>><<setshery +2>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $charisma >= 50>> <<setcharisma +1>> <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "readytobegin">>

Shery smiles to herself at your response. "Whenever you're ready, Commander." You gesture. "Let's hear it." <<nobr>><<if $resources >= 4>> <<include "defenseorarmory">> <<else>> <<include "hinorialize">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Shery blushes prettily and looks at her feet with a smile. "<<c firstname>>..." she begins in a warning tone. You sit back. "I'll behave. Let's hear it." <<nobr>><<if $resources >= 4>> <<include "defenseorarmory">> <<else>> <<include "hinorialize">> <</if>><</nobr>>

She blushes prettily and looks at her feet with a smile. "When you're sitting behind the desk, it's easier for me to think of you that way," she says quietly. "It helps me... focus." <<nobr>><<if $resources >= 4>> <<include "defenseorarmory">> <<else>> <<include "hinorialize">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<set $shepherdgold += 500>> Shery opens her booklet. "First, we'll tackle the simpler issues," she states. "There is the budgetary matter of allocating funds. The Autarch has received our request for more funding in response to our growing numbers, and sent us a fair amount of gold. You can make a suggestion about where exactly you think that money should go. To our armory and purchasing better weapons and supplies for our members—or to our defenses, particularly for bulwarking weak or deteriorating spots around the compound?" You think on it for a moment. Better weapons means better offensive power for your Shepherds, but defense and other materials will make the Tower and your headquarters better prepared for any attacks. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Let's put the money towards stocking up our armory."</div>' 'weaponbuild'>><<set $army += 2>><<set $resources += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Let's put the money towards shoring up our defenses."</div>' 'wallbuild'>><<set $resources += 2>><<set $defenses to true>><</link>> <<if ($cunning >= 50) or ($compassionate <= 30)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Let's put a little aside for both projects, and let your Commander get a bonus for successfully negotiating more funds."</div>' 'commanderbonus'>><<set $resources -= 5>><<set $army -= 5>><<set $teamdiscipline -= 5>><<set $teammorale -= 5>><<setcunning +10>><<setshery -10>><<set $sheryromanceflag to 0>><<setloyal -25>><<setblade -10>><<set $bladeromanceflag to 0>><<setriel -10>><<setcompassionate -5>><<settrouble -10>><<settallys -10>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($shepherdgold >= 3000)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Can't we do both?"</div>' 'bothupgrades'>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($shepherdgold < 3000)>><div class="inactive-item">"Can't we do both?"</div><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

Shery nods and scribbles down a note to herself. "Should we spend a little more to buy the best that we can, or more standard weapons?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Stick to standard weapons." [500 Shepherd Funds]</div>' 'standardweapons'>><<set $shepherdgold -= 500>><</link>> <<if ($shepherdgold >= 1500)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Let's buy the best we can afford." [1500 Shepherd Funds]</div>' 'bestweapons'>><<set $resources += 2>><<set $army += 2>><<set $teammorale += 1>><<set $shepherdgold -= 1500>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($shepherdgold < 1500)>><div class="inactive-item">"Let's buy the best we can afford." [1500 Shepherd Funds]</div><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

Shery nods and scribbles down a note to herself. "Should we just focus on patching up the weak spots, or should we build up <i>all</i> of our defenses as much as we can?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Just the weak spots for now." [500 Shepherd Funds]</div>' 'patchdefenses'>><<set $shepherdgold -= 500>><</link>> <<if ($shepherdgold >= 1500)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Let's fortify the entire place." [1500 Shepherd Funds]</div>' 'fortifyall'>><<set $resources += 1>><<set $army += 2>><<set $shepherdgold -= 1500>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($shepherdgold < 1500)>><div class="inactive-item">"Let's fortify the entire place." [1500 Shepherd Funds]</div><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $rielromanceflag > 5>> <<set $rielromanceflag -= 5>> <</if>><<set $gold += 200>><</nobr>> For a moment, Shery stares at you in disbelief. "You mean... you'd want to take some of that money for your paycheck?" she asks slowly. You stare back at her, unwavering. "I think I deserve it as a reward for my efforts," you tell her calmly. Shery goes white, but doesn't say anything else as she makes a note in her booklet. <<include "fraternizing">>

Shery ducks her head. "It will dip into our existing funds," she says. "I think it's a good idea, but it's up to you, Commander." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Let's buy more weapons <i>and</i> bulk up our defenses, then." [3000 Shepherd Funds]</div>' 'doboth'>><<set $shepherdgold -= 3000>><<set $defenses to true>><<set $resources += 5>><<set $army += 5>><<set $teammorale += 5>><<set $teamdiscipline += 2>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Let's just build up the walls, then."</div>' 'wallbuild'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Let's just buy the weapons, then."</div>' 'weaponbuild'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

She nods. "Understood, Commander." <<include "fraternizing">>

Shery smiles and scribbles down a note for herself. "It will be done, Commander." She seems pleased with your choice. <<include "fraternizing">>

"Moving on," she says, shifting from one foot to the other, "here is the problem of..." She trails off, then blushes up to the roots of her hair. "...fraternization..." <<include "fraternizing_start">>

She opens her booklet. "First up is the problem of…" She trails off, then blushes up to the roots of her hair. "…fraternization…" <<include "fraternizing_start">>

Your eyebrows shoot up. "Come again?" Shery coughs, then fans a hand over her face as if to cool it. "Fraternization," she repeats, though her voice squeaks a bit. "Two officers—Hinori Norrell, a half-Mage Seer, and Alize Stariel, a Norm aristocrat—moved in as roommates together shortly after graduating from the Officers' Academy. Recently, there have been rumors that they're now in a romantic relationship, and..." She clears her throat. "...Captain Tan had the opportunity of... observing this relationship firsthand. By accident." "So..." you begin slowly. "They're involved. And?" Shery nods, pressing her lips together. "And it's up to you to decide what to do about that." <<include "fraternizationchoices">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if ($numberofromances >= 1) and ($prihineromance is false) and not hasVisited("hypocrite")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"Well... it'd certainly be hypocritical of me to be against romantic relationships in the Shepherds..."</div>' 'hypocrite'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("bladeopinion")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"What did Blade have to say about fraternization?"</div>' 'bladeopinion'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("rielopinion")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"What did Riel say about fraternization?"</div>' 'rielopinion'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("whyspecial")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"Wait, I know for a fact that officers are 'fraternizing' with each other all the time. They're just not getting caught. What's so special about these two?"</div>' 'whyspecial'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Let Shery explain the situation.</div>' 'hinori'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Shery blushes at your indulgent smirk. <<nobr>><<if $sheryromance is true>> <br><br> "God knows we've done things in this very office that would put the regulations to shame..." you continue meaningfully. <br><br> Shery gives an embarrassed cry and hides her face behind her booklet. "<<c firstname>>!" she blurts. "It's bad enough that we're rule-breakers <i>and</i> hypocrites, but you don't have to look so smug about it!" <br><br> She waits until you've properly straightened out your expression. "Sorry, love." <<elseif $troubleromance is true>> "That's true," she murmurs. "Vice-Commander Trouble certainly seems to have trouble not shouting it from the rooftops." She smiles. "However, I'm not sure who among the lower ranks knows the <i>full</i> details about your romantic affairs, if any at all. There are always rumors, but there are so many of those going around that everyone always discredits them immediately. So for now, at least, you should be safe from outright accusations of hypocrisy." <<elseif $tallysromance is true>> "That's true," she murmurs. "I don't think many people have missed just how happy and upbeat Tallys seems nowadays." She smiles. "However, I'm not sure who among the lower ranks knows the <i>full</i> details about your romantic affairs, if any at all. There are always rumors, but there are so many of those going around that everyone always discredits them immediately. So for now, at least, you should be safe from outright accusations of hypocrisy." <<elseif $chaseromance is true>> "That's true," she murmurs. "And one of these days, someone's going to take Chase's constant boastful insinuations about you seriously." She smiles. "However, I'm not sure who among the lower ranks knows the <i>full</i> details about your romantic affairs, if any at all. There are always rumors, but there are so many of those going around that everyone always discredits them immediately. So for now, at least, you should be safe from outright accusations of hypocrisy." <<elseif $redromance is true>> "That's true," she murmurs. "It's hard not to miss how Red wanders around with a dreamy look on his face, gazing after you like a mooncalf." She smiles. "However, I'm not sure who among the lower ranks knows the <i>full</i> details about your romantic affairs, if any at all. There are always rumors, but there are so many of those going around that everyone always discredits them immediately. So for now, at least, you should be safe from outright accusations of hypocrisy." <<elseif $aylaromance is true>> "That's true," she murmurs. "It's hard not to miss how Ayla's gaze and whole demeanor downright <i>softens</i> whenever you're in the same room." She smiles. "However, I'm not sure who among the lower ranks knows the <i>full</i> details about your romantic affairs, if any at all. There are always rumors, but there are so many of those going around that everyone always discredits them immediately. So for now, at least, you should be safe from outright accusations of hypocrisy." <<elseif $brionyromance is true or $brionyromanceflag >= 20>> "That's true," she murmurs. "It's hard not to miss Briony skipping around and giggling over you like a lovesick girl." She smiles. "However, I'm not sure who among the lower ranks knows the <i>full</i> details about your romantic affairs, if any at all. There are always rumors, but there are so many of those going around that everyone always discredits them immediately. So for now, at least, you should be safe from outright accusations of hypocrisy." <<elseif $lavinetromance is true or $lavinetromanceflag >= 20>> "That's true," she murmurs. "It's hard not to miss the smoldering looks you and Lavinet exchange whenever you're in the same room." She smiles. "However, I'm not sure who among the lower ranks knows the <i>full</i> details about your romantic affairs, if any at all. There are always rumors, but there are so many of those going around that everyone always discredits them immediately. So for now, at least, you should be safe from outright accusations of hypocrisy." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "fraternizationchoices">>

"He's always been adamantly against it," Shery says, speaking plainly for once. "He was the one to establish the rule, after all. He said it addles the heads of officers, especially in times of crisis. He said you have to trust a Shepherd to save a civilian who can't protect themselves, instead of diving after their loved one or getting distracted during a mission and letting an innocent die in the process. That's the duty of a Shepherd, and romance within our ranks distracts from that and presents very dangerous situations." <<nobr>><<if ($bladeromance is true or $bladeromanceflag >= 30) and ($highestromance is "blade")>> Then she looks at you, and her mouth quirks up in a shy smile. "Of course, I <i>did</i> wonder if he would change his tune once he understood a few things..." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I don't know what you're talking about," you say innocently.</div>' 'bladeteasing'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Blush and look away. "Shery!"</div>' 'bladeblushing'>><<setshery +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Oh? Do tell more."</div>' 'bladetellmore'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"What makes you say such a thing?"</div>' 'bladeexplanation'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <<else>> <<include "fraternizationchoices">> <</if>><</nobr>>

If it were anybody else, the look on Shery's face would resemble a smirk. "Whatever you say, Commander," she says demurely. "Anyway, we should get back to talking about Hinori and Alize." <<include "fraternizationchoices">>

Shery laughs quietly, a tinkling, gentle sound. "Sorry, Commander. I shouldn't tease you when we have business to attend to." She taps her booklet. "Let's concentrate on Hinori and Alize." <<include "fraternizationchoices">>

She shakes her head ruefully. "Maybe another time. First we should think about Hinori and Alize." <<include "fraternizationchoices">>

To your surprise, Shery actually scoffs. It's the first time you've ever heard her make that sound. "<<c firstname>>, I don't mean to speak out of turn, but it's obvious enough that <i>Chandry</i> noticed it while he was here overseeing some shipments. He beckoned me over and said, and I quote: '<i>How long has the Commander loved the Hero of Haven</i>?' When I asked him why he thought that, he replied, '<i>Why? Could it be the way they speak aside to each other at every chance? What about the ragged and starveling look on his face as he looks at $her whenever they're in the same room, when he thinks no one is watching? What of the lovesick circles that darken under his eyes, his gaze of pure and desperate hunger? I would have to be <b>blind</b> not to notice</i>!'" She shakes her head in a vaguely pitying way at your baffled stare. "Anyway, we should concentrate on Hinori and Alize for now." <<include "fraternizationchoices">>

"I think he's of two minds about it," Shery says thoughtfully. "On the whole, I think he agrees with Blade that, as a concept, it's not very productive for the Order and is prone to be a source of distraction—at best—and time-consuming drama and 'histrionics' at worst. But he also recognizes how unrealistic it would be to try to enforce a ban against it, and he's more concerned with other things. I also think he's aware that blowing off steam and not having such rigid rules can be good for morale. Commander Blade, I think, still operates under the assumption that everyone is capable of and derives satisfaction from obeying an extremely disciplined military structure like the Khehi Ket do. He might forget that such policies aren't as ironclad to everyone else... or as helpful. So I think Riel is neutral about the ban, overall. He just wants us to be investing our time and energy into enforcing policies that make the best use of our resources." <<nobr>><<if ($rielromance is true or $rielromanceflag >= 30) and ($highestromance is "riel")>> <br><br> Then she glances at you, a bit slyly. "Of course, he could just be saying that to deflect from how he <i>truly</i> feels..." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I have no idea what you're talking about," you say innocently.</div>' 'rielteasing'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Which would be...?"</div>' 'rielfeels'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Blush and look away. "Shery!"</div>' 'rielblushing'>><<setshery +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Do you know something I don't know?"</div>' 'rielknowing'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <<else>> <<include "fraternizationchoices">> <</if>><</nobr>>

"Well, I'm not sure," Shery begins innocently. "I do spend a lot of time around his office, and just the other day, I found him in quite a state of agitation, muttering and talking feverishly to himself about the best way to ask you to dinner, what kind of gift you would like... He was in quite a state, second-guessing and arguing with himself! I haven't seen him looking so lacking in composure since... well, ever." Then she shakes her head with a smile. "Anyway, we should concentrate on Hinori and Alize for now." <<include "fraternizationchoices">>

"I couldn't say," Shery says innocently. "Anyway, we should get back to talking about Hinori and Alize." <<include "fraternizationchoices">>

Shery shifts uncomfortably. "Well..." she admits. "You're right. There's a reason why these two are being used as a public example, and why how you deal with them will be more significant..." <<include "hinori">>

She takes a breath. "Alize," she begins, "the older of the two, is the daughter and scion of a powerful noble family. She left the family to join the Shepherds, following Lavinet's example—much to their horror—but she is still expected to take up the mantle of the Stariel household someday." She hesitates. "And her father—Lord Stariel—has gotten word that she's fallen in love with Hinori. A Diminished girl." "And let me guess, he wanted to send his congratulations?" Shery flushes. "Quite the contrary. He's livid, and has sent us an ultimatum. Separate the two and send Alize home to Leore, and he'll give us an ample reward in gold. Keep her here—even if you separate them—and he'll do his best to tear down our reputation with the other nobles. Severing many potential alliances and sources of support for the Order." You wince. "Ouch. He's driving a hard bargain, isn't he?" Shery nods gravely. "And it's up to you to decide whether we should take it or not. They <i>are</i> technically in violation of our own rules, after all." You sigh and sit back in your chair. On one hand, extra gold could go a long way towards helping out the Order. On the other hand, separating two lovers—particularly a Diminished woman and a Norm noblewoman—sends a particular message. This message could help elevate the Order in the eyes of the Norm nobility—or it could dishearten Diminished in similar positions, as they're constantly boxed into 'knowing their place.' On the other hand, showing that you care about discipline and the rule of law as a leader is also important. And if you lose the nobles' support, or even worse, earn their active wrath... You knead your forehead. Shit. <<include "hinorichan">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("goldask")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"How much gold?"</div>' 'goldask'>><<setcunning +3>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Send Alize home. We'll take her father's money and be left alone. It's one woman in the face of some serious political power."</div>' 'sendalizehome'>><<set $resources += 1>><<set $army += 1>><<set $shepherdgold += 1000>><<setloyal +5>><<setreputation +2>><<set $teammorale -= 1>><<set $teamdiscipline += 1>><<setblade +1>><<setriel +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Let Alize stay, unless she wants to leave of her own free will. We can't show that our actions can be bought by corrupt nobles."</div>' 'alizestays'>><<set $army -= 1>><<setreputation +4>><<set $teammorale += 1>><<set $teamdiscipline -= 1>><<setcourage +1>><<setloyal -3>><<set $resources -= 1>><</link>> <<if ($lavinetromance is true) or ($lavinetromanceflag >= 5) or ($lavinet >= 70)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Let's let Lavinet handle Lord Stariel. She knows how to deal with crotchety nobles, and has... experience... in this area."</div>' 'lavinethandles'>><<setlavinet +3>><<setreputation +1>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("whymedecide")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Why am I the one who has to deal with this? Can't Riel or Blade make the call? It's their damn policy, after all."</div>' 'whymedecide'>><<setshery -1>><</link>><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

Shery checks. "One thousand deucalions." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Holy shit."</div>' 'disapprovingshery'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Sweet mother of $god."</div>' 'disapprovingshery'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"That's... not that much..."</div>' 'disapprovingshery'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Shery looks disapproving. "Commander!" <<include "hinorichan">>

<<nobr>><<if $numberofromances >= 1 and $prihineromance is false>> <<set $teammorale -= 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> Shery bobs a bow, but her face looks sad. "Two girls," she says quietly, "not one." <<include "kortela">>

Shery smiles and bobs tightly. "Hear, hear, Commander," she says quietly. <<include "kortela">>

Shery bobs a bow, but she looks like she's holding back a laugh. "I'm sure she'll be... very persuasive." <<include "kortela">>

Shery tilts her head, seemingly in disapproval. "This is just one of the small things that have fallen off of the pile," she tells you gently. "Each of them have a huge mound of work and other concerns on their desks—and it does fall under your purview. As Commander-Legate, you have the final say on issues that affect the Shepherds' relations to the public, outside factions, and potential allies or adversaries. Blade oversees the military and combat side of things, while Riel supervises the administrative, bureaucratic side. But given that this will have political consequences on our reputation, I thought it fell neatly under your umbrella." <<include "hinorichan">>

<<set $deniedkortela to false>>Finally she turns to the final task of the day. "There's one final thing, Commander," she says, a hint of trepidation creeping into her voice. "Do you remember Kortela Prym?" The name instantly brings a scowl to your face. "The woman who edits the Haven Herald?" The local newspaper writer has been hounding your office for an interview for weeks. "What about her?" Shery looks distinctly uncomfortable. "Well... she's been asking, practically <i>demanding</i>, to have an interview with you for weeks now. I wasn't going to say anything to you, but she's taken to showing up at our front gates every day, too. We can't do much to remove her, since she doesn't cross over into our threshold, but... the guards tell me she's being quite the nuisance. She says she won't stop until you give her an exclusive interview. She claims it could be your chance to boost the Shepherds' reputation with the general working public in Haven... which is true. The Haven Herald is probably the most widely-read newspaper in Ashtown and Smoketown. It could hold a lot of sway over the commonfolk in the city." She chews the inside of her lip. "But... I'm not sure. Kortela's reporting has quite the slant to it. Perhaps you'll be able to win her over—you tend to have that knack with people—but I can't help but feel... apprehensive." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Send her away. I'm not going to give that woman a moment of my time."</div>' 'autogenerated_67584'>><<setcompassionate -1>><<setloyal -1>><<set $deniedkortela to true>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Arrange for an interview. I'm interested to see what she wants."</div>' 'autogenerated_67585'>><<setcunning +1>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Keep stalling her. I want to hold off on a decision for now."' 'autogenerated_67586'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Shery bobs a quick curtsy, trying to hide her smile. "Right away, Commander." <<include 'commandtime1conclusion'>>

Shery hesitates, then nods, scribbling down a note. "Very well, Commander. I'll pick a suitable time for you to talk." <<include 'commandtime1conclusion'>>

Shery bites her lip, but nods, scribbling down a note to herself. "Very well, Commander. I'll inform the guards." <<include 'commandtime1conclusion'>>

With that, she informs you that's all she has for you today, leaving you to tie up some loose ends before you continue on your way. <<page_break "..." "dayoff">>

<<if isPlaying("gambling")>><<else>><<audio ":playing" stop>><</if>> <<if settings.music is true>><<if isPlaying("gambling")>><<else>><<audio "gambling" volume 0.2 loop play>><</if>><</if>> <<set $timegambling += 1>> <<set $gambletime to 0>> <<set $witch1 to "">> <<set $witch2 to "">> <<set $witch3 to "">> <<set $bet to 0>> <<set $gambler to "">> <<set $gamblerhe to "">> <<set $gamblerhim to "">> <<set $gamblerhis to "">> <<set $gamblerman to "">> <<set $gamblernumber to random(1,5)>> <<if $gamblernumber is 1>> <<set $gambler to "brown-skinned woman with long black ringlets and smoky eyes">> <<set $gamblerhe to "she">> <<set $gamblerhim to "her">> <<set $gamblerhis to "her">> <<set $gamblerman to "woman">> <<elseif ($gamblernumber is 2)>> <<set $gambler to "tattooed man with fiery red hair and many scars crisscrossing his hands">> <<set $gamblerhe to "he">> <<set $gamblerhim to "him">> <<set $gamblerhis to "his">> <<set $gamblerman to "man">> <<elseif ($gamblernumber is 3)>> <<set $gambler to "wizened old man with a knowing gleam in his eye">> <<set $gamblerhe to "he">> <<set $gamblerhim to "him">> <<set $gamblerhis to "his">> <<set $gamblerman to "old man">> <<elseif ($gamblernumber is 4)>> <<set $gambler to "sweet-looking old woman with many rings on her thumbs">> <<set $gamblerhe to "she">> <<set $gamblerhim to "her">> <<set $gamblerhis to "her">> <<set $gamblerman to "old woman">> <<elseif ($gamblernumber is 5)>> <<set $gambler to "cheery xixian youth with the bearing of a young aristocrat">> <<set $gamblerhe to "xe">> <<set $gamblerhim to "xim">> <<set $gamblerhis to "xer">> <<set $gamblerman to "gambler">> <</if>> <<if $timegambling is 1>> <<include "firsttimegambling1">> <<else>> <<include "moregamble">> <</if>>

You follow Chandry to a tiny side-alley in Market Quarter that you've never noticed before, away from the more crowded thoroughfares. The alleyway is cramped, barely wider than the breadth of your shoulders, but packed with people, as if a festival were taking place within. All of them look up and greet Chandry cheerfully as you walk by. "Who's the wet-ears, Chandry my boy?" a scruffy-looking man—possibly a sailor—calls. "This is Shepherd $firstname," Chandry replies with stiff dignity. "<<c she>> would like to play." The scruffy sailor grins, extending a grimy hand to you. Behind him, the long alleyway winds into shadow, full to the brim with loud gambling matches, bright lights, and furtive games. "Welcome to the Golden Way," he tells you. "What're you playing?" "What do you have?" you ask. "We've got Witches of Chance," he says, referring to a kind of slot game where you have to draw three of the same cards in a row. "Or, if you've got the guts, Elements… or Angels and Devils, if you're an expert." <<include "gamblingexplanations">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="question-item">"What's Witches of Chance?"</div>' 'witchesofchanceexplain'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="question-item">"What's Elements?"</div>' 'elementsexplain'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="question-item">"What's Angels and Devils?"</div>' 'angelsanddevilsexplain'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">I'm done hearing about these games.</div>' 'firsttimegambling2'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"There's a special card deck," the man explains. "All's you got to do is draw three of the same kinds of witch in a row. You do that, you win big. Simple. You draw three gold witches, you win double the pot." <<include "gamblingexplanations">>

"There's a bunch of tiles, see," the man explains. "Some have got fire on them; some have got water; some have got wood. We shake the tiles in a bag and then drop them on the table, face-down, like. Then you and your opponent choose a tile at the same time and flip. Fire beats wood. Wood drinks up water. Water beats fire." <<nobr>><<if $tallysequalists is true>> <br><br> That's right, you played this game with Tallys before, in that tavern on that rainy night back in autumn. When the Inquisitors interrupted you... <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "gamblingexplanations">>

"You roll two dice," the man explains. "Numbering one through six. You roll two dice the first time, then see if you want to roll one more dice and add to your score, or keep what you have. The goal is to stay under eight by the end of your turn—the holy number—but get a higher number than your opponent. You do that, you stay an angel. You break eight, or get a number lower than your opponent and they don't break eight, you fall and become a devil. And lose all your coin, heh." <<include "gamblingexplanations">>

<<if $timegambling is 1>> <<include "firsttimegambling3">> <<else>> <<include "moregamble">> <</if>>

Chandry cocks an expectant look at you. "What will you play, $firstname?" "We only play for serious gold here," the sailor warns then. "No 'just for crackers,' if you take my meaning. And you have to have at least ten deucalions to begin with." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $gold >= 10>><<link '<div class="gamble-item">"I'll play Witches of Chance."</div>' 'witchesofchance'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $gold >= 10>><<link '<div class="gamble-item">"I'll play Elements."</div>' 'playelements'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $gold >= 10>><<link '<div class="gamble-item">"I'll play Angels and Devils."</div>' 'angelsanddemons'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $gold < 10>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I don't have that money. Sorry."</div>' 'autogenerated_67587'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $gold >= 10>><<link '<div class="choice-item"> "I have that much, but I can't afford to lose it. Sorry."</div>' 'autogenerated_67588'>><</link>><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

The man stares at Chandry, who seems mortified. "Great one ya brought around here, Chand," he mutters. Then he waves a craggy hand at you. "Begone with you, then. No scragglers or gawkers in the Golden Way." <<include 'gamblingreturnchandry5'>>

<<page_break "..." "gamblingreturnchandry">>

The usual man cocks an eye at you. "Didn't expect to see you back here," he says. "What'll it be? And remember, you need at least ten gold to play." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $gold >= 10>><<link '<div class="gamble-item">"I'll play Witches of Chance."</div>' 'witchesofchance'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $gold >= 10>><<link '<div class="gamble-item">"I'll play Elements."</div>' 'playelements'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $gold >= 10>><<link '<div class="gamble-item">"I'll play Angels and Devils."</div>' 'angelsanddemons'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I need an explanation of the games again."</div>' 'autogenerated_67589'>><</link>> <<if $gold < 10>><<link '<div class="choice-item"> "I don't have enough money..."</div>' 'autogenerated_67590'>><</link>><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

The man lifts a brow. "What do you want to know about?" <<include 'gamblingexplanations'>>

The man scowls at you. "What in blazes did you come here for, then? Get lost!" <<include 'getlostgambling'>>

<<page_break "..." "dayoff">>

<<nobr>><<if $timegambling is 1>> "What'll ya bet?" the man asks as he leads you over to a table. "You can bet ten gold, half your gold, or all of it and make double back. Might lose it all too, though." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'll bet ten gold."</div>' 'witchesofchanceintro2'>><<set $bet to 10>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'll bet half my gold."</div>' 'witchesofchanceintro2'>><<set $bet to Math.round($gold / 2)>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'll bet all of my gold."</div>' 'witchesofchanceintro2'>><<set $bet to $gold>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <<else>> A $gambler sits across from you, riffling and shuffling through a large deck of shining purple-backed cards. $gamblerhe lays out nine neat piles in three rows for you to draw from. Each card will have the illustration of a witch, though the colors or "alignment" of each witch differs: some are white witches of healing, others the purple of royalty, and et cetera. <br><br> <<include "betwitches">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<set $gambletime += 1>> <<if $gambletime gt 5>> "Actually," the $gamblerman says, holding up $gamblerhis hand abruptly, "I think we're done for today. Run along now, will you?" <<c gamblerhe>> shoos you away and packs up $gamblerhis cards in a neat, dark purple box. You decide to leave the Golden Way, having had your fill of gambling for today. <br><br> <<if $timegambling is 1>> <<page_break "Next" "gamblingreturnchandry">> <<else>> <<page_break "Next" "dayoff">> <</if>> <<else>> <<include "betwitchesmore">> <</if>>

The man nods and accepts your coin. He stands aside as you sit down at the Witches of Chance table. A $gambler sits across from you, riffling and shuffling through a large deck of shining purple-backed cards. <<c gamblerhe>> lays out nine neat piles in three rows for you to draw from. Each card will have the illustration of a witch, though the colors or "alignment" of each witch differs: some are white witches of healing, others the purple of fortune-tellers; some are green for potions and pagan craft, a few the gold of royals and holy figures, some black-robed for study of the stars and the heavens, and et cetera. There is one red witch, you know, that will curse you and end your game early. But in a deck of twenty-seven cards, your chances of drawing the red witch are low. <<nobr>><<if $timegambling is 1>> <<include "betwitchesmore1">> <<else>> <<include "betwitchesmore">> <</if>><</nobr>>

"What'll you bet?" $gamblerhe asks before you draw. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'll bet ten gold."</div>' 'betwitchesmore1'>><<set $bet to 10>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'll bet half my gold."</div>' 'betwitchesmore1'>><<set $bet to Math.round($gold / 2)>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'll bet all of my gold."</div>' 'betwitchesmore1'>><<set $bet to $gold>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<set $witchnumber to 0>><<c gamblerhe>> nods. "So you've decided to try your luck on the Witches? Very well, then. Draw." <<include "drawwitches">>

<div class="cardcontainer"><div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/witchesofchance.jpg" alt="Draw First Card" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link "Draw First Card" "witchesofchanceround1">><<set $witchnumber to random(1,3)>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">Draw First Card</span></center></div> <div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/witchesofchance.jpg" alt="Draw First Card" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link "Draw First Card" "witchesofchanceround1">><<set $witchnumber to random(1,3)>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">Draw First Card</span></center></div> <div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/witchesofchance.jpg" alt="Draw First Card" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link "Draw First Card" "witchesofchanceround1">><<set $witchnumber to random(1,3)>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">Draw First Card</span></center></div></div>

<<if $witchnumber is 1>> <<set $witch1 to "purple">> <center> <div class="card-item" width="20%"><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/purplewitch.jpg" alt="Purple Witch" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"></div></div></div> <br> You drew a purple witch.</center> <<elseif $witchnumber is 2>> <<set $witch1 to "green">> <center><div class="card-item" width="20%;"><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/greenwitch.jpg" alt="Green Witch" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"></div></div></div> <br> You drew a green witch.</center> <<else>> <<set $witch1 to "gold">> <center><div class="card-item" width="20%;"><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/goldwitch.jpg" alt="Gold Witch" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"></div></div></div> <br> You drew a gold witch.</center> <</if>> <br><br> <div class="cardcontainer"><div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/witchesofchance.jpg" alt="Draw Second Card" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link "Draw Second Card" "witchesofchanceround2">><<set $witchnumber to random(1,12)>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">Draw Second Card</span></center></div> <div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/witchesofchance.jpg" alt="Draw Second Card" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link "Draw Second Card" "witchesofchanceround2">><<set $witchnumber to random(1,12)>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">Draw Second Card</span></center></div> <div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/witchesofchance.jpg" alt="Draw Second Card" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link "Draw Second Card" "witchesofchanceround2">><<set $witchnumber to random(1,12)>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">Draw Second Card</span></center></div></div> <br><br>

<<if $witchnumber is 1 or $witchnumber is 2 or $witchnumber is 3>> <<set $witch2 to "purple">> <center><div class="card-item" width="20%;"><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/purplewitch.jpg" alt="Purple Witch" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"></div></div></div> <br> You drew a purple witch.</center> <<elseif $witchnumber is 4 or $witchnumber is 5 or $witchnumber is 6>> <<set $witch2 to "green">> <center><div class="card-item" width="20%;"><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/greenwitch.jpg" alt="Green Witch" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"></div></div></div> <br> You drew a green witch.</center> <<elseif $witchnumber is 7>> <<set $witch2 to "gold">> <center><div class="card-item" width="20%;"><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/goldwitch.jpg" alt="Gold Witch" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"></div></div></div> <br> You drew a gold witch.</center> <<elseif $witchnumber is 8>> <<set $witch2 to "blue">> <center><div class="card-item" width="20%;"><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/bluewitch.jpg" alt="Blue Witch" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"></div></div></div> <br> You drew a blue witch.</center> <<elseif $witchnumber is 9>> <<set $witch2 to "white">> <center><div class="card-item" width="20%;"><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/whitewitch.jpg" alt="White Witch" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"></div></div></div> <br> You drew a white witch.</center> <<elseif $witchnumber is 10>> <<set $witch2 to "pink">> <center><div class="card-item" width="20%;"><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/pinkwitch.jpg" alt="pink Witch" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"></div></div></div> <br> You drew a pink witch.</center> <<elseif $witchnumber is 11>> <<set $witch2 to "red">> <center><div class="card-item" width="20%;"><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/redwitch.jpg" alt="Red Witch" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"></div></div></div> <br> You drew a red witch.</center> <br><br> Oh no! Red is the cursed color in this deck: you automatically lose! <<elseif $witchnumber is 12>> <<set $witch2 to "black">> <center><div class="card-item" width="20%;"><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/blackwitch.jpg" alt="Black Witch" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"></div></div></div> <br> You drew a black witch.</center> <</if>> <br><br> <<if $witch2 is "red">> <<include "losewitchgame">> <<elseif $witch1 is $witch2>> <<include "drawlastwitch">> <<else>> Your cards don't match! You lost... <br><br> <<include "losewitchgame">> <</if>>

<div class="cardcontainer"><div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/witchesofchance.jpg" alt="Draw Third Card" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link "Draw Third Card" "witchesofchanceround3">><<set $witchnumber to random(1,11)>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">Draw Third Card</span></center></div> <div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/witchesofchance.jpg" alt="Draw Third Card" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link "Draw Third Card" "witchesofchanceround3">><<set $witchnumber to random(1,11)>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">Draw Third Card</span></center></div> <div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/witchesofchance.jpg" alt="Draw Third Card" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link "Draw Third Card" "witchesofchanceround3">><<set $witchnumber to random(1,11)>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">Draw Third Card</span></center></div></div> <br><br>

<<if $witchnumber is 1 or $witchnumber is 2 or $witchnumber is 3>> <<set $witch2 to "purple">> <center><div class="card-item" width="20%;"><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/purplewitch.jpg" alt="Purple Witch" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"></div></div></div> <br> You drew a purple witch.</center> <<elseif $witchnumber is 4 or $witchnumber is 5 or $witchnumber is 6>> <<set $witch2 to "green">> <center><div class="card-item" width="20%;"><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/greenwitch.jpg" alt="Green Witch" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"></div></div></div> <br> You drew a green witch.</center> <<elseif $witchnumber is 7>> <<set $witch2 to "gold">> <center><div class="card-item" width="20%;"><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/goldwitch.jpg" alt="Gold Witch" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"></div></div></div> <br> You drew a gold witch.</center> <<elseif $witchnumber is 8>> <<set $witch2 to "blue">> <center><div class="card-item" width="20%;"><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/bluewitch.jpg" alt="Blue Witch" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"></div></div></div> <br> You drew a blue witch.</center> <<elseif $witchnumber is 9>> <<set $witch2 to "white">> <center><div class="card-item" width="20%;"><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/whitewitch.jpg" alt="White Witch" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"></div></div></div> <br> You drew a white witch.</center> <<elseif $witchnumber is 10>> <<set $witch2 to "pink">> <center><div class="card-item" width="20%;"><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/pinkwitch.jpg" alt="pink Witch" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"></div></div></div> <br> You drew a pink witch.</center> <<elseif $witchnumber is 11>> <<set $witch2 to "red">> <center><div class="card-item" width="20%;"><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/redwitch.jpg" alt="Red Witch" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"></div></div></div> <br> You drew a red witch.</center> <br><br> Oh no! Red is the cursed color in this deck: you automatically lose! <<elseif $witchnumber is 12>> <<set $witch2 to "black">> <br> <center><div class="card-item" width="20%;"><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/blackwitch.jpg" alt="Black Witch" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"></div></div></div> You drew a black witch.</center> <</if>> <br><br> <<if $witch3 is "red">> <<include "losewitchgame">> <<elseif $witch1 is $witch2 and $witch2 is $witch3>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>You Won!</span></div></div>' "room">><<set $gold += $bet>><<if $witch1 is "gold">><<set $gold += $bet>><</if>><</link>></center> <<else>> Your cards don't match! You lost... <br><br> <<include "losewitchgame">> <</if>>

<<if $witch1 is "gold">><<notify_gold "+" + ($bet * 2) + " Gold">><<else>><<notify_gold "+" + $bet + " Gold">><</if>> All three of your cards match! You win $bet deucalions! <<if $witch1 is "gold">> <br><br> "Hold a moment," your opponent says sharply, leaning forward. "…You drew all gold witches! That's the rarest kind of draw! You win double your bet!" <</if>> <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="gamble-item"> Yes. </div>' 'betwitches'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item"> "I'm done." </div>' 'autogenerated_67591'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I don't have any money left..."</div>' 'autogenerated_67592'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

You walk away with a huge grin and a strut to your side. <<include 'gamblingover'>>

You sadly walk away with your empty pockets. <<include 'gamblingover'>>

<<notify_gold "-$bet Gold">><<set $gold -= $bet>> Your opponent takes away $bet of your gold! <<if $gold <= 0>> <br><br> You're broke... <<include "gamblingover">> <<else>> <br><br> Play again? <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="gamble-item"> Yes. </div>' 'betwitches'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item"> No. </div>' 'autogenerated_67593'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <</if>>

You slink away, defeated. <<include 'gamblingover'>>

<<if $timegambling is 1>> <<include "gamblingreturnchandry">> <<else>> <<page_break "Next" "dayoff">> <</if>>

You head to the Elements table, where a $gambler is sitting in front of a veritable mountain of tiny tiles. Each tile is painted with the delicate symbols for fire, water, or wood, though some corners are chipped or faded from many thumbprints. <<nobr>><<if (($timegambling is 1) and ($heritage is "Elf"))>> <br><br> This was originally an ancient Elvish game, you know, with much more strategy involved and a game board and everything. You remember how artisans would craft each delicate tile with exquisite detail, painting incredible little scenes and portraits of nature on each one. Looking at these cheap pieces and all the gamblers who are undoubtedly unaware of the game's more refined origins makes you feel a little melancholy. Not a good sign for the upcoming game. <</if>><</nobr>> <<c gamblerhe>> nods at you. <<include "betelements">>

<<set $gambletime += 1>> <<if $gambletime gt 5>> "Actually," the $gamblerman says, holding up $gamblerhis hand abruptly, "I think we're done for today. That's good enough for now, don't you think?" <<c gamblerhe>> gives you a vicious kind of smile and gathers up $gamblerhis tiles into an immaculate velvet pouch. <br><br> You decide to leave the Golden Way, having had your fill of gambling for today. <br><br> <<if $timegambling is 1>> <<page_break "Next" "gamblingreturnchandry">> <<else>> <<page_break "Next" "dayoff">> <</if>> <<else>> <<include "betelementsmore">> <</if>>

"What'll you bet?" $gamblerhe asks before you draw. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'll bet ten gold."</div>' 'betelementsmore1'>><<set $bet to 10>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'll bet half my gold."</div>' 'betelementsmore1'>><<set $bet to Math.round($gold / 2)>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'll bet all of my gold."</div>' 'betelementsmore1'>><<set $bet to $gold>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<c gamblerhe>> nods. "Let's flip, then." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Flip!</span></div></div>' "rolltiles">><<set $tileroll to random(1,6)>><<if $tileroll is 1 or $tileroll is 3 or $tileroll is 5>><<set $gold += $bet>><<else>><<set $gold -= $bet>><</if>><</link>></center>

<<if $tileroll is 1>> <<notify_gold "+$bet Gold">> You flip water, and your opponent flips fire. You win! <br><br> <<include "playagain">> <<elseif $tileroll is 2>> <<notify_gold "-$bet Gold">> You flip wood, and your opponent flips fire. <<c gamblerhe>> wins! <br><br> <<include "playagain">> <<elseif $tileroll is 3>> <<notify_gold "+$bet Gold">> You flip fire, and your opponent flips wood. You win! <br><br> <<include "playagain">> <<elseif $tileroll is 4>> <<notify_gold "-$bet Gold">> You flip water, and your opponent flips wood. <<c gamblerhe>> wins! <br><br> <<include "playagain">> <<elseif $tileroll is 5>> <<notify_gold "+$bet Gold">> You flip wood, and your opponent flips water. You win! <br><br> <<include "playagain">> <<elseif $tileroll is 6>> <<notify_gold "-$bet Gold">> You flip fire, and your opponent flips water. <<c gamblerhe>> wins! <br><br> <<include "playagain">> <</if>>

<<c gamblerhe>> cocks a brow at you. "Play again?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $gold gt 0>><<link '<div class="gamble-item">Sure.</div>' 'betelements'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $gold lte 0>><div class="inactive-item">Sure.</div><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm done."</div>' 'autogenerated_67594'>><</link>> <<if $gold is 0>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I would, but I don't have any money left..."' 'autogenerated_67595'>><</link>><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

Your opponent shrugs. "Suit yourself. Good game." <<include 'donegamblingprospective'>>

Your opponent snorts. "Unlucky day for you, then." You walk away, your pockets feeling substantially lighter than ever before. <<include 'donegamblingprospective'>>

<<nobr>><<if $timegambling is 1>> <<page_break "Next" "gamblingreturnchandry">> <<else>> <<page_break "Next" "dayoff">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<set $dice1 to 0, $dice2 to 0, $dice3 to 0, $score to 0, $play to 0, $bluff to false, $opponentscore to 0, $opponentdice1 to 0, $opponentdice2 to 0, $opponentdice3 to 0>>You sit down at a table with a $gambler. The table is outfitted with two little screens, to hide your dice from your opponent, and two six-sided dice, one ivory white with gold paint for the angel, and the other ebony-black with red paint for the devil. <br><br> Your opponent smiles briefly at you and asks, "Ready to play?" <br><br> You nod. <br><br> <<include "betangelsanddemons">>

<<set $play += 1>> <<set $gambletime += 1>> <<if $gambletime > 5>> "Actually," the $gamblerman says, holding up $gamblerhis hand abruptly, "I think we're done for today. You don't want to risk getting addicted, do you?" <<c gamblerhe>> snickers and waves a hand at you, swiping up the dice and tucking them into $gamblerhis pocket. "Just looking out for you, friend." <br><br> You decide to leave the Golden Way, having had your fill of gambling for today. <br><br> <<if $timegambling is 1>> <<page_break "Next" "gamblingreturnchandry">> <<else>> <<page_break "Next" "dayoff">> <</if>> <<else>> <<include "betangelsanddemonsmore">> <</if>>

"What's your bet this time, then?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'll bet ten gold."</div>' 'betangelsanddemonsmore1'>><<set $bet to 10>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'll bet half my gold."</div>' 'betangelsanddemonsmore1'>><<set $bet to Math.round($gold / 2)>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'll bet all of my gold."</div>' 'betangelsanddemonsmore1'>><<set $bet to $gold>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<if $play is 1>> Your opponent nods. "Let's roll, then. Remember, you want to get higher than me, but no higher than the number eight. We each roll two dice the first time, then see if we want to roll the angel dice again and add to our score. After all's done, we'll reveal our dice. If I'm higher than you without breaking eight, I win. If you're higher than me without breaking eight, you win. If we both break eight, no one wins, but we don't lose our money. Got it?" <br><br> You nod. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Understood."</div>' 'rollyourdice'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Got it."</div>' 'rollyourdice'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Wait... say that again?" </div>' 'autogenerated_67596'>><<setintelligence -3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <<else>> Your opponent nods. "Let's roll." <br><br> <<include "rollyourdice">> <</if>>

<<c gamblerhe>> sighs heavily. "We roll two dice," $gamblerhe says slowly. "We're trying to get a higher number than the other without getting higher than eight. You roll once, and then you can decide whether to roll one dice again and add to your score, or keep what you have. You don't see my dice until the end, so you won't know if I've got higher than you, lower than you, or if I've broken eight. If you get higher than me but lower than eight, you win. If you get lower than me or break eight, you lose. If we both get over eight, it's a tie and nothing happens." <<c gamblerhe>> makes an impatient gesture. "Let's roll." <<include 'rollyourdice'>>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Roll Your Dice!</span></div></div>' "diceresults">><<set $dice1 to random(1,6)>><<set $dice2 to random(1,6)>><<set $opponentdice1 to random(1,6)>><<set $opponentdice2 to random(1,6)>><<set $opponentscore to ($opponentdice1 + $opponentdice2)>><<set $score to ($dice1 + $dice2)>><</link>></center>

<center> Your first dice is a $dice1, and your second is a $dice2. </center> <<nobr>><<if $score gt 8>> That's over eight, which means you've "broke" and become a devil. Shit… But if you can keep a poker face, your opponent may add to $gamblerhis score and break eight, too. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Keep your expression stony. "I'll stay."</div>' 'bluffopponent1'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Roll confidently: you don't have anything to lose, and you could bluff $gamblerhim into breaking.</div>' 'bluffopponent2'>><<setcharisma +1>><<setcunning +1>><<set $dice3 to random(1,6)>><<set $score += $dice3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <<elseif $score <= 8>> Will you roll a third dice and add to your score? You need higher than your opponent, but you can't break eight. <br><br> <div class="cardcontainer"><div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/angelsanddevils1.jpg" alt="Keep Your Score" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link "Keep Your Score" "revealdice1">><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">Keep Your Score</span></center></div> <div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/angelsanddevils2.jpg" alt="Roll Third Dice" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link "Roll Third Dice" "revealyourdice15">><<set $dice3 to random(1,6)>><<set $score += $dice3>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">Draw First Card</span></center></div></div> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<if $cunning >= 30>> Your opponent stares at your face for a long time. <<if $opponentscore < 6>> <<set $bluff to true>> "I'll roll again," $gamblerhe declares, clearly believing you have a good score. <<set $opponentdice3 to random(1,6)>> <<set $opponentscore += $opponentdice3>> <br><br> <<page_break "..." "opponentreactionscore">> <<else>> <br><br> Then $gamblerhe looks away and sighs, clearly unsure of what you're holding. <br><br> <<include "revealdice">> <</if>> <<else>> Your opponent stares at your face for a long time, but it seems your bluff doesn't convince $gamblerhim. "I'll stay," $gamblerhe declares, leaning back. <br><br> <<include "revealdice">> <</if>>

You roll a third dice, adding $dice3 to your score for a total of $score. <<if (($cunning >= 25) or ($charisma >= 30))>> <<set $bluff to true>> <br><br> Instantly, your opponent leans forward and makes a roll of $gamblerhis own, encouraged or driven by your bluff. <<set $opponentdice3 to random(1,6)>> <<set $opponentscore += $opponentdice3>> <br><br> <<c gamblerhe>> looks down at the dice and <<if $opponentscore > 8>> scowls. "Damn," $gamblerhe swears. Then $gamblerhe looks up at you. <br><br> <<include "revealdice">> <<else>> smiles slightly. <br><br> <<include "revealdice">> <</if>> <<else>> Your opponent contemplates your face for a long time, then declines to roll, clearly not convinced by your bluff. <br><br> <<include "revealdice">> <</if>>

<<if $opponentscore gt 8>> <<c gamblerhe>> stares at the dice for a moment from behind the little screen blocking your view, then scowls. <<else>> <<c gamblerhe>> stares impassively at $gamblerhis dice. <</if>> <br><br> <<include "revealdice">>

<<page_break "Reveal Your Dice" "revealdice1">>

<center>You roll your third dice and receive a $dice3, putting your score at $score.</center> <<nobr>><<if $score gt 8>> This puts you at over eight: damn! Let's hope your opponent also broke. <br><br> <<else>> You still have a chance to win, so long as your opponent either broke or has a lower number than you. <br><br> <</if>> <<include "revealdice">> <</nobr>>

You show your dice—$score—and compare it to your opponent's score of $opponentscore. <<nobr>><<if $score > 8 and $opponentscore > 8>> You both broke, so neither of you win or lose money! <<if $bluff is true>> <<c gamblerhe>> sighs in frustration and leans back. "You made me break," $gamblerhe admits. "Good play." <</if>> <<elseif $score <= 8 and $score > $opponentscore>> <<set $gold += $bet>><<notify_gold "+$bet Gold">> You won! <<if $bluff is true and $opponentscore > 8>> <<c gamblerhe>> sighs in frustration and leans back. "You made me break," $gamblerhe admits. "Good play." <</if>> <br><br> You earned $bet gold this round! <<elseif $score > 8 and $opponentscore <= 8>> You broke eight, and your opponent didn't, so you lose. <<set $gold -= $bet>><<notify_gold "-$bet Gold">> <br><br> You lost $bet gold this round! <<elseif ($score <= 8) and ($opponentscore <= 8) and ($opponentscore > $score)>> <<set $gold -= $bet>><<notify_gold "-$bet Gold">> You sigh. You didn't break, but neither did your opponent, and $gamblerhe had a higher score than you. <br><br> Cackling, $gamblerhe gathers your coins up. <br><br> You lost $bet gold this round! <<elseif ($score is $opponentscore) and ($score <= 8)>> You stare. Both of you tied, and neither of you broke! <br><br> "What happens in the event of a tie?" you ask. <br><br> "We don't lose anything, and we each get half our bet," $gamblerhe replies. <<set $bet to Math.round($bet / 2)>> <<set $gold += $bet>><<notify_gold "+$bet Gold">> <br><br> You won $bet gold this round! <<elseif $score <= 8 and $opponentscore > 8>> <<set $gold += $bet>><<notify_gold "+$bet Gold">> You smile to yourself. You remained under eight, and your opponent broke and became a devil! <br><br> You won $bet gold this round! <</if>><</nobr>> Your opponent arches a brow at you. "Again?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $gold gt 0>><<link '<div class="gamble-item">Sure.</div>' 'betangelsanddemons'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $gold lte 0>><div class="inactive-item">Sure.</div><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm done."</div>' 'autogenerated_67597'>><</link>> <<if $gold is 0>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I would, but I don't have any money left..."' 'autogenerated_67598'>><</link>><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

Your opponent shrugs. "Suit yourself. Good game." <<include 'donegamblingprospective'>>

Your opponent snorts. "Unlucky day for you, then." You walk away, your pockets feeling substantially lighter than ever before. <<include 'donegamblingprospective'>>

The cat slithers in through your open window as casually as if it owns the place, mewing softly. <ul class="choices"> <<fake_choice 'Scratch its chin.' 'petthecat'>> <<fake_choice 'Pet its back.' 'petthecat'>> <<fake_choice 'Let it do its own thing.' 'petthecat'>> </ul>

The cat looks around your room, <<if $fish is true>> paying particularly close attention to $feesh in the tank in the corner. <<else>> eyeing your travel pack on the floor like it's contemplating it for a bed or a scratching post. <</if>> <<if $specialization is "wild">> <br><br> Then it eyes you, and you stretch out your mind in the customary greeting that all Wild-Mages perform. Sometimes animals are willing to partake in conversation; many times they're not, either preoccupied by life's endless hunts for food and shelter or simply not in the mood to bandy words with a human. <br><br> That's true of the cat today—it allows you to brush up against its mind, but otherwise doesn't react—but it may strike up a conversation with you in the future, should you earn its trust. In the meantime, you learn two things: this particular cat is a boy, and he doesn't have a human-given name. Well and truly a stray, then. <</if>> <br><br> After a few minutes of circling your room, sniffing the corners and purring softly, the cat leaps back up onto your windowsill and disappears. <br><br> You turn back to studying the features of your room. <br><br> <<include "room2end">>

The cat from before is back today, punching your window with <<if $specialization is "wild">>its—his—paws <<else>>its paws <</if>> like a miniature boxer. When it spots you, it lets loose a complaining yell. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Let the cat in.' 'catspend2'>><<setcompassionate +1>><<set $cattime += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Ignore the cat today.' 'ignorecat2'>><<setcompassionate -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

The cat <<if $specialization is not "wild">> (who seems like a 'he') <</if>> bolts past you before you can react, making a beeline for <<if $fish is true>> the fish habitat in the corner of your room. <<elseif $plants is true>> the plants in the corner of your room. <<else>> the satin pillowcase on your bed. <</if>> You lunge, <<if $strength gte 40>> and thankfully you're fast enough to pluck the rascal up before he causes a disaster; he dangles in your arms, a thwarted and mischievous gleam in his eyes. <<else>> but you're too slow. Your feline visitor jumps up and <<if $fish is true>> plunges his forepaws up to the armpits into the water, startling $feesh into hiding. You quickly haul the rascal out, but you get sopping wet cat fur all over you in the process, and your poor fish looks like <<print $fishhe>>'s about to have a heart attack. <<elseif $plants is true>> barrels into the pots like a hard ball hurled at a set of lawn pins. You manage to save all the plants but one, crockery flying everywhere as your mint sprig gets trampled with gleeful mischief. You scoop the cat up into your arms before any other plants are damaged, but soil and dirty paw prints get everywhere. <<else>> sinks his claws into your pillowcase like it's a damn pincushion; you hastily grab him, but that just rakes his claws across the pillow, shredding the fine satin cover like tissue paper. <</if>><</if>> <br><br> The cat briefly snuggles into your arms, just an armful of liquid feline, before abruptly wriggling free of your grip and disappearing out the window. <ul class="choices"> <<fake_choice '"Thanks a lot!"' 'ratbastard'>> <<fake_choice '"You little rat bastard...' 'ratbastard'>> <<fake_choice '"Okay, I guess that was my fault."' 'ratbastard'>> <<fake_choice '"That\'s the last time I let a strange wild animal into my room..."' 'ratbastard'>> </ul>

You sigh, close your window, and tidy up your living space as best you can. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "room">><<set $roomvisit += 1>><<set $roomspent to true>><</link>></center>

Eventually, the cat growls before turning and leaping off your windowsill in a huff. You turn back to your empty room. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "room">><<set $roomvisit += 1>><<set $roomspent to true>><</link>></center>

Eventually, the cat disappears in silence, and you turn back to studying the features of your room. <<include "room2end">>

You turn back to the sparser areas of your room. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "room">><<set $roomvisit += 1>><<set $roomspent to true>><</link>></center>

Your troublesome feline friend from before is waiting at the window, as always. You sigh. Judging by how he rocketed through your room last time, it's not safe to let that cat in unless you have something to distract him. You decide to… <ul class="choices"> <<fake_choice "...find a way to preoccupy him and keep him out of trouble." "findawaytopreoccupy">> <<fake_choice "...find some food to keep him busy and fill his belly." "feeddacat">> <<fake_choice "...let it be. That cat is more trouble than he's worth." "idonttrustyoucat">> </ul>

There isn't exactly an abundance of cat toys lying around the compound, so you'll have to make do and improvise something… <ul class="choices"> <<fake_choice "You tie shoestrings and a random feather to a long stick." "feathercat">> <<fake_choice "You find a ball of yarn." "yarncat">> <<fake_choice "You seal some pebbles in a can to make it rattle." "rattlecat">> <<fake_choice "You find a wooden crate with a hole in it." "boxcat">> </ul>

You let the cat in and spend several minutes entertaining him by making the feather dance on its string. The cat is enraptured and perhaps a little angered by the movement patterns of his new prey. <<include "catexpectantbai">>

You let the cat in and toss him the red ball of yarn. The cat's eyes go huge, and he spends several minutes batting the yarn around like it just insulted his mother. <<include "catexpectantbai">>

The noise startles the cat after you let him in, but soon enough, he's pouncing and punching the thing into the walls, entertaining himself for several minutes. <<include "catexpectantbai">>

The cat immediately comes over to investigate the crate once you let him in, eventually turning the whole thing upside-down and hiding underneath it. <<include "catexpectantbai">>

Eventually, however, he looks at you, almost expectantly, the tip of his tail lashing back and forth. You regard each other in silence for a moment before the cat seems to decide something and slinks away, flowing out your window without another sound. He's had his fun, but you suppose it's time for him to get back to the hunt. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "room">><<set $roomvisit += 1>><<set $roomspent to true>><</link>></center>

You give him... <ul class="choices"> <<if $cunning gte 40 and $strength gte 15>><li><<link '...a bit of boiled chicken pilfered from the kitchens.' 'eatingcat'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li><<else>><<disabled '...a bit of boiled chicken pilfered from the kitchens.'>><</if>> <<if $charisma gte 45>><li><<link '...a filet of fresh fish that you sweet-talked from one of the cooks.' 'eatingcat'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li><<else>><<disabled '...a filet of fresh fish that you sweet-talked from one of the cooks.'>><</if>> <li><<link '...a bit of sliced turkey meat from a leftover sandwich you were saving from lunch.' 'eatingcat'>><</link>></li> <<fake_choice '...a bowl of cool water from the sink. It\'s the best you can do.' 'watercat'>> </ul>

The cat spends several minutes eating greedily—the food vanishes before your eyes—before he flows up into your lap and parks himself there, purring and rumbling like a little furnace. Seems like he's decided to get more comfortable with you. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cat33">><<set $cattime += 1>><</link>></center>

<<nobr>><<if settings.notifications>><<notify 5s>><i class="fas fa-heart"></i> You've earned the cat's trust!<</notify>><</if>><</nobr>>You spend several minutes interacting with the cat before he suddenly gets up, stretches luxuriously, and then vanishes once more. You have the feeling he'll definitely be back next time, though. Maybe it would be best to get some supplies before he does? For now, you turn back to examining your room. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "room">><<set $roomvisit += 1>><<set $roomspent to true>><</link>></center>

The cat spends several minutes lapping greedily at the clean water before flowing into your lap and staying there, purring and rumbling like a little furnace. Seems like he's decided to get more comfortable with you. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cat33">><<set $cattime += 1>><</link>></center>

After a few minutes, the cat shoots you an accusatory look before taking his leave. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "room">><<set $roomvisit += 1>><<set $roomspent to true>><</link>></center>

You run your fingers fondly over the familiar spines. Sometimes these books were your closest friends. It's nice to give them a home where you won't have to worry about them getting rained on or burned. <<include "room1end">>

<<nobr>><<if $cainejoin is true>>You've had to stop Caine from trying to taste those potions more times than you can count, but he'll learn eventually.<</if>><</nobr>> <<include "room1end">>

<<if $specialization is "elementalist" or $astral gte 40>> Your plant-magic aided you greatly in keeping these friends alive while you were on the road. <<else>> These friends have managed to stay alive even throughout the years of being stuffed into packs and lugged halfway across the Continent. <</if>> You run your hands fondly over their leaves. Hopefully they'll thrive in a stable home like this one. <br><br> <<include "room1end">>

You run your fingers fondly over a worn ivory statuette, so faded by time that you can't make out its features anymore. Sometimes these items were watching over you when no one else was. <<include "room1end">>

You won't have to touch such a store much anymore, given that you have a dedicated infirmary here, but you never know what you might need in case of an emergency. <<include "room1end">>

You run your hands fondly over the hilt of one blade. Some recruits might be alarmed to find such a collection of weapons right by your door, but some of these weapons have been with you so long that they almost feel like friends. <<include "room1end">>

You run your hands fondly over the worn handle of one pistol. Some recruits might be alarmed to find such a collection of weapons right by your door, but some of these weapons have been with you so long that they almost feel like friends. <<include "room1end">>

You run your fingers fondly over the fletching of one such arrow. Some recruits might be alarmed to find such a collection of weapons right by your door, but you made them yourself, selected and carved the wood, found the feathers and fletched each end. They almost feel like old friends. <<include "room1end">>

You run your hand over one battered travel journal. These items are a record of all the steps you've taken to get here. They deserve their own place on the wall. <<include "room1end">>

It's convenient to have a spot by the door where you can grab items on your way out. You've never left your room without smelling good and looking great. <<include "room1end">>

It's very rare that you ever show anyone your pieces, but they occupy a place of pride in your room, anyway. <<include "room1end">>

Because leaving them sitting around in the Shepherds' buttery is just begging for disaster… <<include "room1end">>

This small white round pebble is the only thing you managed to bear away from your vanished home. It's been worn smooth from riding in your pocket all these years. <center><<button "Return">><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>></center>

You still remember the day you dared to pilfer this spellbook, snatching it right out of the smoldering embers of an Inquisitor's public book burning when no one was looking. You'll never forget that blood-thumping fear, and the accompanying thrill of triumph when you realized you'd actually gotten away with it. <center><<button "Return">><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>></center>

This thick iron band, inscribed with a faded rune, is the only thing of value the old man left behind when he passed on. It doesn't fit you, and you never felt right altering it, but just having it close by brings you a measure of comfort, as if your old teacher is still watching over you somehow. <center><<button "Return">><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>></center>

Your class ring from Solhadur is something of a paradox, being enchanted so that no one except the other members of your class can see it—in order to prevent the Circle's discovery by the Autarchy or any outsiders—but just having it nearby still inspires fond memories of your time there. <<if $red >= 65>> You notice that Red still wears his, even though no one but you, Pan, Neon, and your other former classmates can see it. <</if>> <center><<button "Return">><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>></center>

This replica of Capra is small enough to sit on your thumb, and yet it's so intricate. <<if $red >= 65 or $redromance is true>>Red commented on its surprising accuracy the first time he spotted it in your room.<</if>> <center><<button "Return">><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>></center>

This souvenir pocketwatch is so nice that you don't even like to carry it around with you. It looks much better on this shelf. <<if $trouble >= 65 or $troubleromance is true>> You even noticed Trouble eyeing it appreciatively the last time he was in your room.<</if>> <center><<button "Return">><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>></center>

The delicate, royal blue and purple flowers smell like the silver lake that stretches across the hills at the city's feet. <center><<button "Return">><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>></center>

The grandmother (or "<i>baa-ra</i>") who gave you this cream-colored, carved vase with gold scrolling designs had shrieked with indignation when you tried to deny the gift. It's filled with rare black and white flowers from the Reach. <center><<button "Return">><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>></center>

Chase had commented on the innocuous chunk of stone, stating that it seemed a poor gift for saving an entire city of people. <<if $heritage is "Hunter">>However, you know its true value: you grew up on legends about the Mornhaven Gate, and how proudly it's stood against the test of time. Even after a thousand years, it's hardly degraded, so even tiny pieces falling off of it are rare. You can feel its power, faint and burning, when you close your eyes and press the stone into your palm.<<else>>But you saw how the people of the Reach treasured the Mornhaven Gate and looked to it as their ultimate protection. This is a rare and precious talisman, and you're grateful that Naolin gave it to you. <</if>> <center><<button "Return">><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>></center>

This rose is called a leonic rose because of its sandy golden color and the way its petals furl out like a mane. It's one of the few green things that grow in the bloodbowl of Heth Macoll, and is said to be a symbol of health and vitality. <center><<button "Return">><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>></center>

This tiny replica of Heth Macoll is small enough to sit on your thumb, and yet it's amazingly intricate. <<if $briony >= 60 or $brionyromance is true>> Briony swears up and down that she can point at the arena you found her in, though your eyes can't pinpoint it among all the other minute buildings. <<else>> You can even see the empty geyser you saw in the middle of the city. <</if>> <center><<button "Return">><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>></center>

This tiny replica of Lockwood is small enough to sit on your thumb, and yet it's so intricate. <<if $lavinet >= 65 or $lavinetromance is true>>You always catch Lavinet looking at it fondly, as if it makes her nostalgic. She always points out exactly how it's inaccurate in certain ways, despite the fact that such a small model could never fit every detail of her hometown perfectly. You think she enjoys pointing out the flaws, though. <<else>>You can even see the Naveen estate at the top of the city.<</if>> <center><<button "Return">><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>></center>

This perfume always makes you think of warmth and garden concerts, cucumber sandwiches and hints of jasmine and citrus. <center><<button "Return">><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>></center>

Although the flowers have dried since your journey from Lockwood, they still retain much of their vibrant color and scent. Right now, they're several hues of pink, white, and red. Legend has it that they'll turn a different shade in the vase of a loved one or sweetheart. <center><<button "Return">><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>></center>

You were given this detailed wooden figurine as thanks for helping a camp full of refugees on the way to Lockwood. It depicts Samona, the founder of their village, accompanied by a wolf companion and wearing a crown of bone. <center><<button "Return">><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>></center>

This hourglass totem is intended to represent the ever-shifting forms of Uusae M'ri, the Changelings' "god of a thousand faces." The hourglass is filled with some kind of dark metallic liquid with a rainbow-like, iridescent sheen: the liquid oozes and melts into random shapes whenever you flip the hourglass. <center><<button "Return">><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>></center>

The same artist who painted individual portraits of the Order's officers also took the liberty of painting a group painting with you, Blade, Trouble, Tallys, Shery, Riel, Chase, Red, Ayla, Briony, Halek, Lavinet, Mimir, <<if $cainejoin is true>> and even others like Caine and his dog.<<else>>and a few other important officers.<</if>> It took several months to track everyone down and align their schedules enough so you could all sit, stand, and joke around together while the artist busily scribbled away. And yet the end result made it all worth it. Now you have a portrait of all of you together, glowing with laughter and enjoying each other's company. Even the normally tense or dour presences in your company look relaxed and comfortable. The artist never took payment for creating the portrait; he only said that the real value came from experiencing the moment, which he stressed was something you should treasure forever. You smile down at the portrait. And you intend to. <center><<button "Return">><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>></center>

To celebrate the end of their training, you and your recruits had a portrait taken by a painter who was residing with the Order at the time. Your squad looks crisp and grown-up in their uniforms, and they look very proud to be standing at attention with their captain. One day, in the far future, they're going to be leading their own green recruits. You hope you'll remember their experiences with you as clearly as you do when you look at this picture. <center><<button "Return">><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>></center>

Who made this stuffed jester? If it was Chandry, his stitchwork is excellent... <center><<button "Return">><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>></center>

This soft yellow bear is such a comforting presence in your room. You just want to squeeze it! <center><<button "Return">><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>></center>

This serious pink rabbit has such soft ears, it makes you want to scream. <<if $cainejoin>> You always catch Caine gazing at it with interest, but he always denies it: he's too old for such toys, according to him. <</if>> <center><<button "Return">><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>></center>

This music box is crafted from pale wood and features an elaborate forest scene on its lid. When you open it, the tiny wooden figurine of an abramic oak tree inside spins around slowly, while the music box chimes out a somber tune, something noble and dignified, almost like a military elegy or a funeral dirge. <<if $halekjoin and $halek gte 65>> Halek took one look at it and commented with some surprise that the figurine is at least partially made from real abramic oak. If Chandry had known that, he probably should have charged you at least six times more than what he did.<</if>> <center><<button "Return">><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>></center>

You earned this simple gold trophy as the result of taking first place in a local strongman competition that you joined at Ayla's behest. More than an emblem of your prevailing strength, this trophy serves as a mark of the fond memory you share with the Wind-Mage and never fails to make you smile. <<if $aylaromance is true>> Ayla always teases that if you get married, the trophy will officially belong to you both. <<elseif $ayla gte 90>> Ayla always teases the trophy actually belongs to the both of you whenever she happens to see it, since you wouldn't have won it in the first place if she hadn't dragged you into the competition. <</if>> <center><<button "Return">><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>></center>

<<set _feeshbehavior to 0>> <<if $feesh is "">><<goto 'namefish'>><<else>> <<if $cainejoin is true>>Caine checks on $feesh for you when you're away on long missions.<<if $feedfish is 1 and $cainetime >= 1>>One disastrous time, he brought Dog along with him, and the stray nearly lunged at the tank and drank up all the water (and $feesh along with it). Thankfully, $feesh is okay!<</if>><<else>>Shery feeds $feesh for you while you're away on long missions.<</if>> <br><br> You sprinkle some food into the water now. <<if $feedfish == $roomvisit>> <<set _feeshbehavior to random(1, 4)>> <<if _feeshbehavior is 1>> <br><br> Today $fishhe bobs happily in the water of the large glass habitat, as if $fishhe's riding waves of a tiny sea. <<elseif _feeshbehavior is 2>> <br><br> Today $fishhe is spinning in lazy circles, scales sparkling in the sun. <<elseif _feeshbehavior is 3>> <br><br> Today $fishhe seems to be feeling playful, playing peek-a-boo from behind a bloom of coral. <<else>> <br><br> Today $fishhe is nudging rocks around, making little cairns before knocking them down again. What a smart little fish! <</if>> <<elseif ($feedfish - $roomvisit) >= 7>> <br><br> OH, GOD. <<print $feesh.toUpperCase()>> IS WAY TOO FAT. <<print $fishhe.toUpperCase()>>'S HUGE. STOP FEEDING <<print $fishher.toUpperCase()>>!!! <<elseif ($feedfish - $roomvisit) >= 5>> <br><br> $feesh is looking very bloated today… maybe you should skip a feeding or two so $fishhe can get back to normal. <<elseif ($roomvisit - $feedfish) >= 7>> <br><br> $feesh looks fairly sickly. When you drop food into the water, $fishhe attacks it like a ravenous shark. You need to feed $fishher more! <<elseif ($roomvisit - $feedfish) >= 5>> <br><br> $feesh seems a little lethargic today… maybe you need to sprinkle in some more food? <<else>> <<set _feeshbehavior to random(1, 4)>> <<if _feeshbehavior is 1>> <br><br> Today $fishhe bobs happily in the water of the large glass habitat, as if $fishhe's riding waves of a tiny sea. <<elseif _feeshbehavior is 2>> <br><br> Today $fishhe is spinning in lazy circles, scales sparkling in the sun. <<elseif _feeshbehavior is 3>> <br><br> Today $fishhe seems to be feeling playful, playing peek-a-boo from behind a bloom of coral. <<else>> <br><br> Today $fishhe is nudging rocks around, making little cairns before knocking them down again. What a smart little fish! <</if>> <</if>> <<if $specialization is "wild">> $feesh's thoughts against yours are hazy, silvery, slippery and disjointed. <<c fishhe>>'s still too young to communicate with you in any meaningful way. Maybe someday. <</if>> <</if>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Return</span></div></div>' "room">><</link>></center>

You realize that you've never given your fish a proper name. Chandry also never specified whether it was a male or a female fish. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link "I think it's a male fish." 'namefish2'>><<set $fishhe to "he">><<set $fishher to "him">><</link>></li> <li><<link "I think it's a female fish." 'namefish2'>><<set $fishhe to "she">><<set $fishher to "her">><</link>></li> <li><<link "I'm just going to refer to it as \'it\'." 'namefish2'>><<set $fishhe to "it">><<set $fishher to "it">><</link>></li> </ul>

And you'll name $fishher... <ul class="choices"> <li><<link "Leviathan." 'feedfish'>><<set $feesh to "Leviathan">><</link>></li> <li><<link "Levi." 'feedfish'>><<set $feesh to "Levi">><</link>></li> <li><<link "Captain." 'feedfish'>><<set $feesh to "Captain">><</link>></li> <li><<link "Flip." 'feedfish'>><<set $feesh to "Flip">><</link>></li> <li><<link "Sashimi." 'feedfish'>><<set $feesh to "Sashimi">><</link>></li> <li><<link "Maki." 'feedfish'>><<set $feesh to "Maki">><</link>></li> <li><<link "Atlantis." 'feedfish'>><<set $feesh to "Atlantis">><</link>></li> <li><<link "Silver." 'feedfish'>><<set $feesh to "Silver">><</link>></li> <li><<link "Input custom name.">><<script>>Dialog.setup("Name Your Fish");Dialog.wiki(Story.get("nameyourfish").processText());Dialog.open();<</script>><</link>></li> </ul>

Input a name for your fish. <br><br> <<textbox "$feesh" "Feesh">> <br><br> <center><<button "Confirm">><<set $feesh to $feesh.toUpperFirst()>> <<if $feesh is "">><<replace "#textbox-error">>Please enter a name.<</replace>> <<else>> <<goto "feedfish">> <<run Dialog.close()>> <</if>><</button>><br><br><span id="textbox-error"></span></center>

<<if settings.music is true>><<audio "wateringplants" volume 0.3 fadeoverto 3 0>><</if>> Thankfully, either Shery or Tallys checks in on your plants when you're away on long missions. <br><br> <<if $watered == $roomvisit>>They seem to be happy and thriving! The plants, that is. <<if $shery >= 60 or $tallys >= 60 or $tallyssex or $sheryromance or $tallysromance>> Shery and Tallys seem good, too!<</if>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Return</span></div></div>' "room">><</link>></center> <<elseif ($watered - $roomvisit >= 5)>> ... <br><br> Your plants are completely drowned!!! They're dying!!! <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>?!?!</span></div></div>' "overwatered">><</link>></center> <<elseif ($roomvisit - $watered) >= 5>> ... <br><br> HOLY STARS. Your plants are completely withered and parched!!! They're dying!!! <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>?!?!</span></div></div>' "underwatered">><</link>></center> <<elseif $watered < $roomvisit>> They could stand to have a bit more water at the moment, though. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Return</span></div></div>' "room">><</link>></center> <<elseif $watered > $roomvisit>> They're looking a bit drenched at the moment, though. Better hold off watering them for a bit. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Return</span></div></div>' "room">><</link>></center> <</if>>

<<if $specialization is "elementalist">>You send a wash of healing water through the dried roots of your plants, and you sigh in relief as you feel them begin to perk up and unfurl, dewy with life again. You can't do this too often, though, so you'd better keep an eye out in the future! <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Whew!</span></div></div>' "room">><</link>></center> <<else>> You rush and do your best to save your poor plants, whose blackened stems nearly crumble under your hands. You're not sure how much you can do at this point, but you manage to salvage them. Just barely… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Whew!</span></div></div>' "room">><</link>></center> <</if>>

<<if $specialization is "elementalist">><<set $watered to $roomvisit>>You breathe a sigh of relief. After working your Elemental magic into the drenched roots of your plants, you managed to save them all. You'd better not let that happen again! <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Whew!</span></div></div>' "room">><</link>></center> <<else>><<set $watered -= 3>>You rush and do your best to save your poor plants, but you're not sure how much you can do at this point… at least they'll live a little while longer! <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "room">><</link>></center> <</if>>

<<set $pocketbook to true>>When a painter took up temporary residence at the Shepherds' compound, he painted miniature portraits of every prominent Shepherd in turn, from Trouble (who had to be forcefully restrained into sitting down for that long) to Riel, who did paperwork even while he sat for his portrait. It's become a commonplace practice among officers to exchange these palm-sized portraits with close friends and dear companions as tokens of affection, keeping them in a pocketbook for good luck in the field. <br><br> <div class="cardcontainer"> <<if $bladeromance is true or ($blade gte 90 and $bladetime gte 7)>><div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/characters/blade.jpg" alt="Blade Bronwyn" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link 'Blade Bronwyn'>><<script>> Dialog.setup("Blade Bronwyn"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("bladeportraitcard").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">Blade Bronwyn</span></center></div> <<else>> <div class="card-item"> <center> <div class="cardoverlay"> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/characters/blade.jpg" alt="Locked Card" class="card locked-card"> <div class="cardtransition"> <div class="cardlink locked-text">???</div> </div> </div> <span class="cardname">Locked</span> </center> </div> <</if>> <<if $troubleromance is true or ($trouble gte 90 and $troubletime gte 7)>><div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/characters/trouble.jpg" alt="Trouble Alder" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link 'Trouble Alder'>><<script>> Dialog.setup("Trouble Alder"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("troubleportraitcard").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">Trouble Alder</span></center></div> <<else>> <div class="card-item"> <center> <div class="cardoverlay"> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/characters/blade.jpg" alt="Locked Card" class="card locked-card"> <div class="cardtransition"> <div class="cardlink locked-text">???</div> </div> </div> <span class="cardname">Locked</span> </center> </div> <</if>> <<if ($tallysromance is true or $tallys gte 90 and $tallystime gte 7)>> <div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/characters/tallys.jpg" alt="Tallys Ironwood" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link 'Tallys Ironwood'>><<script>> Dialog.setup("Tallys Ironwood"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("tallysportraitcard").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">Tallys Ironwood</span></center></div> <<else>> <div class="card-item"> <center> <div class="cardoverlay"> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/characters/blade.jpg" alt="Locked Card" class="card locked-card"> <div class="cardtransition"> <div class="cardlink locked-text">???</div> </div> </div> <span class="cardname">Locked</span> </center> </div> <</if>> </div> <div class="cardcontainer"> <<if $sheryromance is true or ($shery gte 90 and $sherytime gte 7)>> <div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/characters/shery.png" alt="Shery Acquell" class="card-fixed-height"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link 'Shery Acquell'>><<script>> Dialog.setup("Shery Acquell"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("sheryportraitcard").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">Shery Acquell</span></center></div> <<else>> <div class="card-item"> <center> <div class="cardoverlay"> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/characters/blade.jpg" alt="Locked Card" class="card locked-card"> <div class="cardtransition"> <div class="cardlink locked-text">???</div> </div> </div> <span class="cardname">Locked</span> </center> </div> <</if>> <<if $rielromance is true or ($riel gte 90 and $rieltime gte 6)>> <div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/characters/riel.jpg" alt="Riel Syndran" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link 'Riel Syndran'>><<script>> Dialog.setup("Riel Syndran"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("rielportraitcard").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">Riel Syndran</span></center></div> <<else>> <div class="card-item"> <center> <div class="cardoverlay"> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/characters/blade.jpg" alt="Locked Card" class="card locked-card"> <div class="cardtransition"> <div class="cardlink locked-text">???</div> </div> </div> <span class="cardname">Locked</span> </center> </div> <</if>> <<if $chaseromance is true or $chase gte 90 and $chasetime gte 6>> <div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/characters/chase.jpg" alt="Chase Trinaeste" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link 'Chase Trinaeste'>><<script>> Dialog.setup("Chase Trinaeste"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("chaseportraitcard").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">Chase Trinaeste</span></center></div> <<else>> <div class="card-item"> <center> <div class="cardoverlay"> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/characters/blade.jpg" alt="Locked Card" class="card locked-card"> <div class="cardtransition"> <div class="cardlink locked-text">???</div> </div> </div> <span class="cardname">Locked</span> </center> </div> <</if>> </div> <div class="cardcontainer"> <<if $redromance is true or ($red gte 90 and $redtime gte 5)>> <div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/characters/red.jpg" alt="Red Antiqua" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link 'Red Antiqua'>><<script>> Dialog.setup("Red Antiqua"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("redportraitcard").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">Red Antiqua</span></center></div> <<else>> <div class="card-item"> <center> <div class="cardoverlay"> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/characters/blade.jpg" alt="Locked Card" class="card locked-card"> <div class="cardtransition"> <div class="cardlink locked-text">???</div> </div> </div> <span class="cardname">Locked</span> </center> </div> <</if>> <<if $aylaromance is true or ($ayla gte 90 and $aylatime gte 5)>> <div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/characters/ayla.jpg" alt="Ayla Aescar" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link 'Ayla Aescar'>><<script>> Dialog.setup("Ayla Aescar"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("aylaportraitcard").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">Ayla Aescar</span></center></div> <<else>> <div class="card-item"> <center> <div class="cardoverlay"> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/characters/blade.jpg" alt="Locked Card" class="card locked-card"> <div class="cardtransition"> <div class="cardlink locked-text">???</div> </div> </div> <span class="cardname">Locked</span> </center> </div> <</if>> <<if $halek gte 90 and $halektime gte 5>> <div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/characters/halek.png" alt="Halek Prince" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link 'Halek Prince'>><<script>> Dialog.setup("Halek Prince"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("halekportraitcard").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">Halek Prince</span></center></div> <<else>> <div class="card-item"> <center> <div class="cardoverlay"> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/characters/blade.jpg" alt="Locked Card" class="card locked-card"> <div class="cardtransition"> <div class="cardlink locked-text">???</div> </div> </div> <span class="cardname">Locked</span> </center> </div> <</if>> </div> <div class="cardcontainer"> <<if $brionyromance is true or ($briony gte 90 and $brionytime gte 4)>> <div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/characters/briony.png" alt="Briony Stormbreaker" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link 'Briony Stormbreaker'>><<script>> Dialog.setup("Briony Stormbreaker"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("brionyportraitcard").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">Briony Stormbreaker</span></center></div> <<else>> <div class="card-item"> <center> <div class="cardoverlay"> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/characters/blade.jpg" alt="Locked Card" class="card locked-card"> <div class="cardtransition"> <div class="cardlink locked-text">???</div> </div> </div> <span class="cardname">Locked</span> </center> </div> <</if>> <<if $lavinetromance is true or ($lavinet gte 90 and $lavinettime gte 4)>> <div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/characters/lavinet.png" alt="Lavinet Naveen" class="card-fixed-height"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link 'Lavinet Naveen'>><<script>> Dialog.setup("Lavinet Naveen"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("lavinetportraitcard").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">Lavinet Naveen</span></center></div> <<else>> <div class="card-item"> <center> <div class="cardoverlay"> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/characters/blade.jpg" alt="Locked Card" class="card locked-card"> <div class="cardtransition"> <div class="cardlink locked-text">???</div> </div> </div> <span class="cardname">Locked</span> </center> </div> <</if>> <<if $mimir gte 90 and $mimirtime gte 3>> <div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/characters/mimir.png" alt="Mimir Esthin" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link 'Mimir Esthin'>><<script>> Dialog.setup("Mimir Esthin"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("mimirportraitcard").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">Mimir Esthin</span></center></div> <<else>> <div class="card-item"> <center> <div class="cardoverlay"> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/characters/blade.jpg" alt="Locked Card" class="card locked-card"> <div class="cardtransition"> <div class="cardlink locked-text">???</div> </div> </div> <span class="cardname">Locked</span> </center> </div> <</if>> </div> <div class="cardcontainer"> <<if $cainetime gte 7>> <div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/characters/caine.png" alt="Caine Tavadon" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link 'Caine Tavadon'>><<script>> Dialog.setup("Caine Tavadon"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("caineportraitcard").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">Caine Tavadon</span></center></div> <<else>> <div class="card-item"> <center> <div class="cardoverlay"> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/characters/blade.jpg" alt="Locked Card" class="card locked-card"> <div class="cardtransition"> <div class="cardlink locked-text">???</div> </div> </div> <span class="cardname">Locked</span> </center> </div> <</if>> <<if $prihineromance is true or ($bothsafe is true or $prihinesafe is true and $rielinvestigation is true)>> <div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/characters/prihine_adjusted.png" alt="Prihine Naveen" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link 'Prihine Naveen'>><<script>> Dialog.setup("Prihine Naveen"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("prihineportraitcard").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">Prihine Naveen</span></center></div> <<else>> <div class="card-item"> <center> <div class="cardoverlay"> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/characters/blade.jpg" alt="Locked Card" class="card locked-card"> <div class="cardtransition"> <div class="cardlink locked-text">???</div> </div> </div> <span class="cardname">Locked</span> </center> </div> <</if>> <<if $croellejoin is true>> <div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/characters/croelle.png" alt="Croelle" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link 'Croelle'>><<script>> Dialog.setup("Croelle"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("croelleportraitcard").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">Croelle</span></center></div> <<else>> <div class="card-item"> <center> <div class="cardoverlay"> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/characters/blade.jpg" alt="Locked Card" class="card locked-card"> <div class="cardtransition"> <div class="cardlink locked-text">???</div> </div> </div> <span class="cardname">Locked</span> </center> </div> <</if>> </div> <br><br>

<div class="flex-column col-1 text-center"> <div class="portrait-container-centered"> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/characters/blade.jpg" class="portrait-dialog" style="max-width: 90vmin; max-height: 90vh; width: auto; height: auto;" /> <div class="portrait-tooltip"><i>Artist's annotation: A knight of iron and darkness and blood and devotion, shaped for war and sacred promises, searching for the liege to whom he may pledge his sword-arm and his fealty.</i></div> </div> </div> <<if $bladeromance is true>> <center><br><br> <i><<c firstname>>, <br><br>I am yours. Forever. <br><br>Love, Blade</i></center> <</if>>

<div class="flex-column col-1 text-center"> <div class="portrait-container-centered"> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/characters/trouble.jpg" class="portrait-dialog" style="max-width: 90vmin; max-height: 90vh; width: auto; height: auto;" /> <div class="portrait-tooltip"><i>Artist's annotation: A champion molded out of spark and sun, wreathed in gunpowder and gold and heat, burning with the flash-fire blaze of life itself.</i></div> </div> </div> <<if $troubleromance is true>> <center><br><br> <i><<c halfname>>, <br><br>I don't know if I'm a good enough man to stand by your side, but I'm going to do my damnedest to try. What I do know is this: you complete me. The luckiest thing that ever happened to me was meeting you. I'm going to honor that for the rest of my life. <br><br>Love, Trouble</i></center> <</if>>

<div class="flex-column col-1 text-center"> <div class="portrait-container-centered"> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/characters/tallys.jpg" class="portrait-dialog" style="max-width: 90vmin; max-height: 90vh; width: auto; height: auto;" /> <div class="portrait-tooltip"><i>Artist's annotation: A keeper standing vigil, stitched together from sky and cloud, leaf and stone, cloaked in birdsong and memory and oaths to dead gods.</i></div> </div> </div> <<if $tallysromance is true>> <center><br><br> <i><<c firstname>>, <br><br>Forever and always, elan. Our time together is so precious. Let's not waste a moment. <br><br>Love, Tallys</i></center> <</if>>

<div class="flex-column col-1 text-center"> <div class="portrait-container-centered"> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/characters/shery.png" class="portrait-dialog" style="max-width: 90vmin; max-height: 90vh; width: auto; height: auto;" /> <div class="portrait-tooltip"><i>Artist's annotation: A saint hidden among the little and the lost, a healer for the weary and the broken, cradling forgotten things as gently as a mother would.</i></div> </div> </div> <<if $sheryromance is true>> <center><br><br> <i><<c firstname>>, <br><br>Sometimes I wake up and still scarcely believe that we're together. I can't believe that someone as strong and lovely and shining as you could entrust your heart to me. Please stay safe, and come home to me. <br><br>I love you, <br>Shery</i></center> <</if>>

<div class="flex-column col-1 text-center"> <div class="portrait-container-centered"> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/characters/riel.jpg" class="portrait-dialog" style="max-width: 90vmin; max-height: 90vh; width: auto; height: auto;" /> <div class="portrait-tooltip"><i>Artist's annotation: A lord folded out of parchment and right angles, white moths and black ink, who would make all the world his checkered empire.</i></div> </div> </div> <<if $rielromance is true>> <center><br><br> <i>Beloved, <br><br>When I put pen to paper and attempt to express my feelings for you—what you mean to me—I find that words fail me. Know that my love and admiration and devotion run deeper than I can say. Look after yourself, and come home safely. I will keep the lights at home burning for you. <br><br>Love, <br>R</i></center> <</if>>

<div class="flex-column col-1 text-center"> <div class="portrait-container-centered"> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/characters/chase.jpg" class="portrait-dialog" style="max-width: 90vmin; max-height: 90vh; width: auto; height: auto;" /> <div class="portrait-tooltip"><i>Artist's annotation: A consort of fortune and bright coins and faint mist, both lustrous and hidden, his silent footsteps followed by the yellow eyes of black cats.</i></div> </div> </div> <<if $chaseromance is true and $chaseread is true>> <center><br><br> </i> I love you, <<c firstname>>. I always will. I wish I had better words to phrase it... I thought about stealing from greater poets, other love letters. But in the end, it's truer and more honest to tell you myself. I'm yours. <br><br>Yours forever, <br>Chase</i></center> <</if>>

<div class="flex-column col-1 text-center"> <div class="portrait-container-centered"> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/characters/red.jpg" class="portrait-dialog" style="max-width: 90vmin; max-height: 90vh; width: auto; height: auto;" /> <div class="portrait-tooltip"><i>Artist's annotation: An explorer of countless mirrors and reflected candle flames, burning his way through a labyrinth for the keys to unlock the world.</i></div> </div> </div> <<if $redromance is true>> <center><br><br> <i><<c firstname>>, <br><br>Out of all the souls in all the infinite realms, we somehow found our way to each other. I feel as bound to you as if our spirits were entwined, and I don't ever plan on letting go. You will always be my beacon and my home. <br><br>Love, <br>Red</i></center> <</if>>

<div class="flex-column col-1 text-center"> <div class="portrait-container-centered"> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/characters/ayla.jpg" class="portrait-dialog" style="max-width: 90vmin; max-height: 90vh; width: auto; height: auto;" /> <div class="portrait-tooltip"><i>Artist's annotation: A warrior shaped from a memory of wind, elusive and fierce, moving with all the force of a hurricane but longing for the joy of a kite string.</i></div> </div> </div> <<if $aylaromance is true>> <center><br><br> <i><<c firstname>>, <br><br>Thank you. I never knew that I could have a home—a real home—until I met you. I will <b>always</b> come back to you. You'd damn well better do the same. <br><br>Love, <br>Ayla</i></center> <</if>>

<div class="flex-column col-1 text-center"> <div class="portrait-container-centered"> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/characters/halek.png" class="portrait-dialog" style="max-width: 90vmin; max-height: 90vh; width: auto; height: auto;" /> <div class="portrait-tooltip"><i>Artist's annotation: A reaper of falling snow, silver powder, and cold sickle chains, indistinguishable from the shadows of the barren pines whenever the moon slips behind the clouds.</i></div> </div> </div>

<div class="flex-column col-1 text-center"> <div class="portrait-container-centered"> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/characters/briony.png" class="portrait-dialog" style="max-width: 90vmin; max-height: 90vh; width: auto; height: auto;" /> <div class="portrait-tooltip"><i>Artist's annotation: A traveler riding a fathomless sea, following the distant flashes of lightning in a storm, gilded by starlight and merry blossoms.</i></div> </div> </div> <<if $brionyromance is true>> <center><br><br> <i>My darling, <br><br>Of all the things I'm grateful for, I'm most thankful to have found you. I don't need anything but this life that we're building together. I love you so deeply I feel as if my heart will burst! <br><br>Love, <br>Your Briony</i></center> <</if>>

<div class="flex-column col-1 text-center"> <div class="portrait-container-centered"> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/characters/lavinet.png" class="portrait-dialog" style="max-width: 90vmin; max-height: 90vh; width: auto; height: auto;" /> <div class="portrait-tooltip"><i>Artist's annotation: A queen of gilded cages and beautiful thorns, bloodied gloves and tender petals, poised to bear down on the world with a smile sharp enough to cut.</i></div> </div> </div> <<if $lavinetromance is true>> <center><br><br> <i>Dearest, <br><br>You hold my heart in the cradle of your hands. Guard it well, for it belongs only to you. I will not breathe freely until we see each other again. Come back to me. <br><br>Love, <br>Lavinet</i></center> <</if>>

<div class="flex-column col-1 text-center"> <div class="portrait-container-centered"> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/characters/mimir.png" class="portrait-dialog" style="max-width: 90vmin; max-height: 90vh; width: auto; height: auto;" /> <div class="portrait-tooltip"><i>Artist's annotation: A herald of silence and listening, shaded by an oak tree that has yet to grow. She seems always to be waiting to begin travels that have already ended.</i></div> </div> </div>

<div class="flex-column col-1 text-center"> <div class="portrait-container-centered"> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/characters/caine.png" class="portrait-dialog" style="max-width: 90vmin; max-height: 90vh; width: auto; height: auto;" /> <div class="portrait-tooltip"><i>Artist's annotation: A boy of scabbed knees and endless noonday adventure, full of sunlight and vigorous new growth.</i></div> </div> </div>

<div class="cardcontainer"> <<if $bladeromance is true or ($blade gte 90 and $bladetime gte 7)>><div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/characters/blade.jpg" alt="Blade Bronwyn" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link 'Blade Bronwyn'>><<script>> Dialog.setup("Blade Bronwyn"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("bladeportraitcard").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">Blade Bronwyn</span></center></div> <<else>> <div class="card-item"> <center> <div class="cardoverlay"> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/characters/blade.jpg" alt="Locked Card" class="card locked-card"> <div class="cardtransition"> <div class="cardlink locked-text">???</div> </div> </div> <span class="cardname">Locked</span> </center> </div> <</if>> <<if $troubleromance is true or ($trouble gte 90 and $troubletime gte 7)>><div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/characters/trouble.jpg" alt="Trouble Alder" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link 'Trouble Alder'>><<script>> Dialog.setup("Trouble Alder"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("troubleportraitcard").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">Trouble Alder</span></center></div> <<else>> <div class="card-item"> <center> <div class="cardoverlay"> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/characters/blade.jpg" alt="Locked Card" class="card locked-card"> <div class="cardtransition"> <div class="cardlink locked-text">???</div> </div> </div> <span class="cardname">Locked</span> </center> </div> <</if>> <<if ($tallysromance is true or $tallys gte 90 and $tallystime gte 7)>> <div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/characters/tallys.jpg" alt="Tallys Ironwood" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link 'Tallys Ironwood'>><<script>> Dialog.setup("Tallys Ironwood"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("tallysportraitcard").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">Tallys Ironwood</span></center></div> <<else>> <div class="card-item"> <center> <div class="cardoverlay"> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/characters/blade.jpg" alt="Locked Card" class="card locked-card"> <div class="cardtransition"> <div class="cardlink locked-text">???</div> </div> </div> <span class="cardname">Locked</span> </center> </div> <</if>> </div> <div class="cardcontainer"> <<if $sheryromance is true or ($shery gte 90 and $sherytime gte 7)>> <div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/characters/shery.png" alt="Shery Acquell" class="card-fixed-height"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link 'Shery Acquell'>><<script>> Dialog.setup("Shery Acquell"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("sheryportraitcard").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">Shery Acquell</span></center></div> <<else>> <div class="card-item"> <center> <div class="cardoverlay"> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/characters/blade.jpg" alt="Locked Card" class="card locked-card"> <div class="cardtransition"> <div class="cardlink locked-text">???</div> </div> </div> <span class="cardname">Locked</span> </center> </div> <</if>> <<if $rielromance is true or ($riel gte 90 and $rieltime gte 6)>> <div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/characters/riel.jpg" alt="Riel Syndran" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link 'Riel Syndran'>><<script>> Dialog.setup("Riel Syndran"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("rielportraitcard").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">Riel Syndran</span></center></div> <<else>> <div class="card-item"> <center> <div class="cardoverlay"> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/characters/blade.jpg" alt="Locked Card" class="card locked-card"> <div class="cardtransition"> <div class="cardlink locked-text">???</div> </div> </div> <span class="cardname">Locked</span> </center> </div> <</if>> <<if $chaseromance is true or $chase gte 90 and $chasetime gte 6>> <div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/characters/chase.jpg" alt="Chase Trinaeste" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link 'Chase Trinaeste'>><<script>> Dialog.setup("Chase Trinaeste"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("chaseportraitcard").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">Chase Trinaeste</span></center></div> <<else>> <div class="card-item"> <center> <div class="cardoverlay"> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/characters/blade.jpg" alt="Locked Card" class="card locked-card"> <div class="cardtransition"> <div class="cardlink locked-text">???</div> </div> </div> <span class="cardname">Locked</span> </center> </div> <</if>> </div> <div class="cardcontainer"> <<if $redromance is true or ($red gte 90 and $redtime gte 5)>> <div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/characters/red.jpg" alt="Red Antiqua" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link 'Red Antiqua'>><<script>> Dialog.setup("Red Antiqua"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("redportraitcard").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">Red Antiqua</span></center></div> <<else>> <div class="card-item"> <center> <div class="cardoverlay"> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/characters/blade.jpg" alt="Locked Card" class="card locked-card"> <div class="cardtransition"> <div class="cardlink locked-text">???</div> </div> </div> <span class="cardname">Locked</span> </center> </div> <</if>> <<if $aylaromance is true or ($ayla gte 90 and $aylatime gte 5)>> <div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/characters/ayla.jpg" alt="Ayla Aescar" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link 'Ayla Aescar'>><<script>> Dialog.setup("Ayla Aescar"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("aylaportraitcard").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">Ayla Aescar</span></center></div> <<else>> <div class="card-item"> <center> <div class="cardoverlay"> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/characters/blade.jpg" alt="Locked Card" class="card locked-card"> <div class="cardtransition"> <div class="cardlink locked-text">???</div> </div> </div> <span class="cardname">Locked</span> </center> </div> <</if>> <<if $halek gte 90 and $halektime gte 5>> <div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/characters/halek.png" alt="Halek Prince" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link 'Halek Prince'>><<script>> Dialog.setup("Halek Prince"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("halekportraitcard").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">Halek Prince</span></center></div> <<else>> <div class="card-item"> <center> <div class="cardoverlay"> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/characters/blade.jpg" alt="Locked Card" class="card locked-card"> <div class="cardtransition"> <div class="cardlink locked-text">???</div> </div> </div> <span class="cardname">Locked</span> </center> </div> <</if>> </div> <div class="cardcontainer"> <<if $brionyromance is true or ($briony gte 90 and $brionytime gte 4)>> <div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/characters/briony.png" alt="Briony Stormbreaker" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link 'Briony Stormbreaker'>><<script>> Dialog.setup("Briony Stormbreaker"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("brionyportraitcard").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">Briony Stormbreaker</span></center></div> <<else>> <div class="card-item"> <center> <div class="cardoverlay"> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/characters/blade.jpg" alt="Locked Card" class="card locked-card"> <div class="cardtransition"> <div class="cardlink locked-text">???</div> </div> </div> <span class="cardname">Locked</span> </center> </div> <</if>> <<if $lavinetromance is true or ($lavinet gte 90 and $lavinettime gte 4)>> <div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/characters/lavinet.png" alt="Lavinet Naveen" class="card-fixed-height"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link 'Lavinet Naveen'>><<script>> Dialog.setup("Lavinet Naveen"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("lavinetportraitcard").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">Lavinet Naveen</span></center></div> <<else>> <div class="card-item"> <center> <div class="cardoverlay"> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/characters/blade.jpg" alt="Locked Card" class="card locked-card"> <div class="cardtransition"> <div class="cardlink locked-text">???</div> </div> </div> <span class="cardname">Locked</span> </center> </div> <</if>> <<if $mimir gte 90 and $mimirtime gte 3>> <div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/characters/mimir.png" alt="Mimir Esthin" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link 'Mimir Esthin'>><<script>> Dialog.setup("Mimir Esthin"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("mimirportraitcard").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">Mimir Esthin</span></center></div> <<else>> <div class="card-item"> <center> <div class="cardoverlay"> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/characters/blade.jpg" alt="Locked Card" class="card locked-card"> <div class="cardtransition"> <div class="cardlink locked-text">???</div> </div> </div> <span class="cardname">Locked</span> </center> </div> <</if>> </div> <div class="cardcontainer"> <<if $cainetime gte 7>> <div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/characters/caine.png" alt="Caine Tavadon" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link 'Caine Tavadon'>><<script>> Dialog.setup("Caine Tavadon"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("caineportraitcard").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">Caine Tavadon</span></center></div> <<else>> <div class="card-item"> <center> <div class="cardoverlay"> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/characters/blade.jpg" alt="Locked Card" class="card locked-card"> <div class="cardtransition"> <div class="cardlink locked-text">???</div> </div> </div> <span class="cardname">Locked</span> </center> </div> <</if>> <<if $prihineromance is true or ($bothsafe is true or $prihinesafe is true and $rielinvestigation is true)>> <div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/characters/prihine_adjusted.png" alt="Prihine Naveen" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link 'Prihine Naveen'>><<script>> Dialog.setup("Prihine Naveen"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("prihineportraitcard").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">Prihine Naveen</span></center></div> <<else>> <div class="card-item"> <center> <div class="cardoverlay"> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/characters/blade.jpg" alt="Locked Card" class="card locked-card"> <div class="cardtransition"> <div class="cardlink locked-text">???</div> </div> </div> <span class="cardname">Locked</span> </center> </div> <</if>> <<if $croellejoin is true>> <div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/characters/croelle.png" alt="Croelle" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link 'Croelle'>><<script>> Dialog.setup("Croelle"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("croelleportraitcard").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">Croelle</span></center></div> <<else>> <div class="card-item"> <center> <div class="cardoverlay"> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/characters/blade.jpg" alt="Locked Card" class="card locked-card"> <div class="cardtransition"> <div class="cardlink locked-text">???</div> </div> </div> <span class="cardname">Locked</span> </center> </div> <</if>> </div> <br><br>

<<if isPlaying("room2")>><<else>><<audio ":playing" stop>><</if>> <<if settings.music is true>><<if isPlaying("room2")>><<else>><<audio "room2" volume 0.2 loop play>><</if>><</if>> <<if $roomvisit is 0 and $roomspent is false>> Your room in the Shepherds' compound is surprisingly roomy and comfortable, given how many officers the Order must house and furnish. There's a clean bed with crisp sheets and a downy pillow, a large wardrobe for your clothes, a dresser and a chest for your other belongings, and room for a tall shelf, a reading chair, a small writing desk, and a bright window looking down into the adjoining green. There's even a narrow door leading to your own private wash closet—a rare luxury that you're surprised that every officer receives. You suppose that's the benefit of having a magical, constantly-expanding and changing arcane tower for a home base. However, the wash closet only has a sink, toilet, and mirror. There are huge baths on every floor that are technically shared between six rooms, but most simply take turns or bathe according to a set schedule rather than communally at the same time. <br><br> You look around, eyeing the golden dust motes streaming in through the window. You haven't gotten around to decorating this place yet, outside of filling the hanging shelf by the door with some of your meager belongings. Currently it's filled with… <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '...a haphazard collection of thick tomes and books.' 'haphazardbooksroom'>><<setintelligence +4>><</link>></li> <<if $arcane gte 30>><li><<link '...a bizarre collection of arcane trinkets and potions you\'re still experimenting with.' 'bizarrecollectionroom'>><<setarcane +4>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link '...a modest but rare collection of herbs, plants, and flowers you\'ve built over time.' 'plantscollectionroom'>><<set $plants to true>><<if $specialization is "elementalist" or $astral gte 40>><<setastral +4>><</if>><</link>></li> <<if $specialization is "diviner" or $psionic gte 40>><li><<link '...a mysterious collection that you\'ve used for your divination work, including tea leaves, bone dice, and glass scrying orbs.' 'mysteriouscollectionroom'>><<setpsionic +4>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $specialization is "healer">><li><<link '...a neat collection of bandages, salves, and medical tools.' 'neatcollectionroom'>><<setastral +4>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $mainweapon is "dagger" or $mainweapon is "sword">><li><<link '...a deadly array of weapons, including sharp knives and short swords.' 'deadlycollectionroom'>><<setstrength +3>><<setsword +3>><<setdagger +3>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $mainweapon is "gun">><li><<link '...a deadly array of guns and pistols—all currently unloaded, of course.' 'deadlyarrayroom'>><<setgun +3>><<setstrength +3>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $mainweapon is "bow">><li><<link '...a deadly array of weapons, including quivers of your best arrows.' 'deadlyarrowsroom'>><<setbow +3>><<setstrength +3>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link '...a weathered collection of maps, compasses, and tools that you\'ve used to survive in the field.' 'weatheredcollectionroom'>><<setcourage +4>><</link>></li> <li><<link '...a sparkling collection of fashion accessories, like scarves, hats, jewelry, and fragrances. ' 'sparklingcollectionroom'>><<setcharisma +4>><</link>></li> <li><<link '...a colorful collection of sketchpads, papers, charcoal sticks, and pastels that you\'ve scribbled with for your art.' 'colorfulcollectionroom'>><<setcunning +2>><<setcharisma +2>><</link>></li> <li><<link '...a precious collection of your favorite hoarded snacks and food items.' 'snackcollection'>><<setcunning +4>><</link>></li> <<if $education is "Self-taught">><li><<link '...mementos from your past before the Shepherds, such as the very first spellbook you ever stole.' 'room1end'>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $education is "Circle-trained">><<fake_choice 'mementos from your past before the Shepherds, such as your class ring from the Circle.' 'room1end'>><</if>> <<if $education is "Journeyman">><<fake_choice 'mementos from your past before the Shepherds, such as a ring from your old master, Belnus Farplane.' 'room1end'>><</if>> </ul> <<elseif $roomvisit is 1 and $roomspent is false>> You're not even a few steps into your room before you notice something rattling and scratching at the window. You frown, close your door, and move closer, squinting against the bright sunlight streaming in from the east. <br><br> At the ledge of your window is a <i>cat</i>. <br><br> A <<cycle "$cat" autoselect>> <<option "very pretty, green-eyed, long-haired purebreed.">> <<option "very scruffy, short-haired tortoiseshell stray.">> <<option "very sleek, slightly sneaky-looking black cat.">> <<option "very odd-looking, sort of fat orange tabby cat with a tiny bit of tongue sticking out of its mouth. Its eyes hold a goofy expression of unadulterated terror.">> <</cycle>> <br><br> The cat paws once again at the glass of your window, yowling as if berating you for betraying it and locking it out of its rightful home. However, you're pretty sure you've never seen it before. What's more, the Shepherds don't exactly allow personal pets outside of fish. Not only does it create too much distraction for officers who are constantly away from home on weeks-long missions, but what few attempts there were before resulted in rodent pets escaping and infiltrating pipes, dogs getting into other rooms and fighting each other viciously, birds keeping other recruits up with their racket, allergens being trailed into communal spaces… <br><br> In short, it's against the rules to own anything like a cat. But is it <i>owning</i> if you just open the window for a totally unrelated stray? <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Open the window. Just this once!' 'cat1'>><<set $cattime += 1>><<setloyal -1>><<setcompassionate +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Open the window. Fuck the rules!' 'cat1'>><<setloyal -3>><<set $cattime += 1>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Shake your head sadly at the cat. Sorry, buddy. It\'s the rules.' 'rejectcat1'>><<setloyal +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Turn away. You wouldn\'t have opened the window at all; you hate cats.' 'rejectcat1'>><<setcompassionate -3>><</link>></li> </ul> <<elseif $roomvisit is 2 and $roomspent is false>> <<if $cattime gte 1>><<include "cat2_2">> <<else>>Your room is the same as ever. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "room">><<set $roomvisit += 1>><<set $roomspent to true>><</link>></center> <</if>> <<elseif $roomvisit is 3 and $roomspent is false>> <<if $cattime gte 2>><<include "cat_room3">> <<else>>Your room is the same as ever. It feels a little warm and stuffy, so you crack open the window just an inch. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "room">><<set $roomvisit += 1>><<set $roomspent to true>><</link>></center> <</if>> <<else>> <<include "roomwithaview">> <</if>>

<<if $roomvisit is 1 and $walls is "">> Between all of the shelves and windows, there's only one spot to hang anything significant on your wall. Currently, that spot is empty. <<elseif $walls isnot "">> Currently, $walls hangs on the wall. <<elseif $walls is "">> Currently, nothing hangs on the wall. <</if>> <br><br> <<if $roomvisit is 1 and $rug is "plain and threadbare">> Currently, a plain and threadbare rug lies on the floor, intended to muffle your footsteps and insulate the room from the cold stone floor. It's so faded that you can't even tell what color it's supposed to be. <<else>> Currently, $rug lies on the floor. <</if>> <br><br> The tall shelf in the corner currently holds these items: <br><br> <<if $shelfrock is true>><li><<link "A rock from your hometown.">><<run Dialog.setup("Examine");Dialog.wiki(Story.get("examine_rock").processText());Dialog.open();>><</link>> </li><</if>> <<if $shelfcharredbook is true>><li><<link "The very first charred spellbook you ever rescued from a book burning.">><<run Dialog.setup("Examine");Dialog.wiki(Story.get("examine_charredbook").processText());Dialog.open();>><</link>> </li><</if>> <<if $shelfbelnusring is true>><li><<link "A ring from your old master, Belnus Farplane.">><<run Dialog.setup("Examine");Dialog.wiki(Story.get("examine_belnusring").processText());Dialog.open();>><</link>> </li><</if>> <<if $shelfclassring is true>><li><<link "Your class ring from Solhadur.">><<run Dialog.setup("Examine");Dialog.wiki(Story.get("examine_classring").processText());Dialog.open();>><</link>> </li><</if>> <<if $shelfcaprareplica is true and $caprasouvenir is "Tiny Replica of Capra">><li><<link "The tiny replica of Capra.">><<run Dialog.setup("Examine");Dialog.wiki(Story.get("examine_caprareplica").processText());Dialog.open();>><</link>> </li><</if>> <<if $shelfcaprawatch is true and $caprasouvenir is "A Souvenir Pocketwatch from Capra">><li> <<link "The souvenir pocketwatch from Capra." >><<run Dialog.setup("Examine");Dialog.wiki(Story.get("examine_caprawatch").processText());Dialog.open();>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $shelfcapraflowers is true and $caprasouvenir is "Cluster of Emperor Hydrangeas from Capra">><li><<link "The cluster of emperor hydrangeas from Capra.">><<run Dialog.setup("Examine");Dialog.wiki(Story.get("examine_caprahydrangeas").processText());Dialog.open();>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $shelfnightshade is true>><li> <<link "The Hunter vase filled with angels' nightshade from the Reach.">><<run Dialog.setup("Examine");Dialog.wiki(Story.get("examine_hunternightshade").processText());Dialog.open();>><</link>> </li><</if>> <<if $shelfgate is true>><li> <<link "The white fragment of stone from the Mornhaven Gate.">><<run Dialog.setup("Examine");Dialog.wiki(Story.get("examine_mornhavengate").processText());Dialog.open();>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $shelfleonicrose is true>><li> <<link "The leonic rose from Heth Macoll.">><<run Dialog.setup("Examine");Dialog.wiki(Story.get("examine_leonicrose").processText());Dialog.open();>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $shelfhethmacoll is true>><li> <<link "The tiny replica of Heth Macoll.">><<run Dialog.setup("Examine");Dialog.wiki(Story.get("examine_hethmacollreplica").processText());Dialog.open();>><</link>> </li><</if>> <<if $shelflockwood is true>><li> <<link "The tiny replica of Lockwood.">><<run Dialog.setup("Examine");Dialog.wiki(Story.get("examine_lockwoodreplica").processText());Dialog.open();>><</link>> </li><</if>> <<if $shelfperfume is true>><li> <<link "The delicate green glass bottle of <i>Frolique</i> perfume.">> <<run Dialog.setup("Examine");Dialog.wiki(Story.get("examine_perfume").processText());Dialog.open();>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $shelfhyacinthe is true>><li> <<link "The bunch of heart's hyacinthe from Lockwood.">><<run Dialog.setup("Examine");Dialog.wiki(Story.get("examine_hyacinthe").processText());Dialog.open();>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $shelfsamona is true>><li> <<link "The wooden totem of Samona the Huntress.">><<run Dialog.setup("Examine");Dialog.wiki(Story.get("examine_samona").processText());Dialog.open();>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $shelfmri is true>><li> <<link "The hourglass totem of Uusae M'ri.">><<run Dialog.setup("Examine");Dialog.wiki(Story.get("examine_mri").processText());Dialog.open();>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $shelfstrongmangold is true>><li> <<link "The gold trophy from the strongman competition with Ayla.">><<run Dialog.setup("Examine");Dialog.wiki(Story.get("examine_strongmantrophy").processText());Dialog.open();>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $shelfstuffy1 is true>><li> <<link "The hand-stitched stuffed jester from Chandry's shop.">><<run Dialog.setup("Examine");Dialog.wiki(Story.get("examine_stuffy1").processText());Dialog.open();>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $shelfstuffy2 is true>><li> <<link "The soft yellow stuffed bear from Chandry's shop.">><<run Dialog.setup("Examine");Dialog.wiki(Story.get("examine_stuffy2").processText());Dialog.open();>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $shelfstuffy3 is true>><li> <<link "The serious pink stuffed rabbit from Chandry's shop.">><<run Dialog.setup("Examine");Dialog.wiki(Story.get("examine_stuffy3").processText());Dialog.open();>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $shelfmusicbox is true>><li> <<link "The exquisitely-crafted music box featuring an abramic oak figurine.">><<run Dialog.setup("Examine");Dialog.wiki(Story.get("examine_musicbox").processText());Dialog.open();>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $shelfpicgroup is true>><li> <<link "The portrait of you and your friends.">><<run Dialog.setup("Examine");Dialog.wiki(Story.get("examine_picgroup").processText());Dialog.open();>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $shelfpicrecruits is true>><li> <<link "The portrait of you and your recruits.">><<run Dialog.setup("Examine");Dialog.wiki(Story.get("examine_picrecruits").processText());Dialog.open();>><</link>></li><</if>> <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Decorate the walls.' 'walldecorate'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Decorate the floor.' 'floordecorate'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Decorate the shelves.' 'shelvesdecorate'>><</link>></li> <<if $part gt 6>><li><<link 'Examine your pocketbook of handheld portraits.' 'pocketbookportraits'>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link 'Check your wardrobe.' 'wardrobe'>><</link>></li> <<if $fish>><li><<link 'Feed your fish.' 'feedfish'>><<set $feedfish += 1>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $plants>><li><<link 'Water your plants.' 'waterplants'>><<set $watered += 1>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<fake_choice 'Leave your room.' 'dayoff'>></li> </ul>

<<if $walls is "">><<set $walls to "nothing">><</if>> <<set _walldescription to "">> Currently, <span id="walls">$walls</span> hangs on the wall. <span id="walldescription"><br>_walldescription</span> <ul class="choices"> <li><<link "Hang a tattered map of the Continent on the wall.">> <<replace "#walls">>a tattered map of the Continent<</replace>><<replace "#walldescription">> <br><br><center><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/maps/worldmap.jpg" width="70%"> </center><</replace>><<set $walls to "a tattered map of the Continent">><</link>></li> <<if $chasenote is true>><li><<link "Hang Chase's note on the wall.">> <<replace "#walls">>a clumsy, scrawled note from Chase<</replace>><<replace "#walldescription">> <br><br><<set $loadPassage to Story.get("chasenote").text;>><<letter_holder "note half-width-letter-holder" $loadPassage>> <<if $chasesex is true or $chaseromance is true or $chaseromanceflag >= 20 or $highestfriendship is "chase" or $chase >= 70>><br> <br> Every time he sees it, he always points at it and says, "Hey, I did that!" in very proud, chipper tones.<</if>><</replace>><<set $walls to "a clumsy, scrawled note from Chase">><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $maskmask is true>><li><<link "Hang the $mask mask from All Heroes Eve on the wall.">> <<replace "#walls">>your $mask mask from All Heroes Eve<</replace>><<replace "#walldescription">> <br> <br> This mask brings you back to that night of dancing, lights, and mystery.<</replace>><<set $walls to "your $mask mask from All Heroes Eve">><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $caprasouvie is true and $caprasouvenir is "A Woodblock Print of Capra and Caprona's Founding Twins">><li><<link "Hang the intricate woodblock print of Capra's founding twins.">> <<replace "#walls">>a detailed woodblock print of Capra's founders<</replace>><<replace "#walldescription">> <br> <br> This woodblock print of Capra's twin Mage founders is surprisingly intricate and delicate for a souvenir sold in a surly vendor's shop. It makes for a nice decoration on your wall. <</replace>><<set $walls to "a detailed woodblock print of Capra's founders">><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $operaposter is true>><li><<link "Hang the dramatic poster of the Haven Opera Company in a production of <i>The Painted Devil.</i>">> <<replace "#walls">>a dramatic poster of the Haven Opera Company in bold colors<</replace>><<replace "#walldescription">> <br> <br> This is a limited-edition poster depicting the players of the Haven Opera Company in a play called <i>The Painted Devil</i>. You've heard critics arguing in spirited debate over the real meaning of the play, and the costumes were certainly very dramatic. <</replace>><<set $walls to "a dramatic poster of the Haven Opera Company in bold colors">><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $whabh is true>><li><<link "Hang the mysterious painting depicting the stars and a greenish night sky, entitled <i>We Have Always Been Here.</i>">> <<replace "#walls">>a mysterious and enigmatic painting of the night sky<</replace>><<replace "#walldescription">> <br> <br> You're not sure what the title means or who the creator of this piece was, but there's something satisfying about the way the green-blue hues are layered around the stars and moon. <</replace>><<set $walls to "a mysterious and enigmatic painting of the night sky">><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $rangersposter is true>><li><<link "Hang the bold and colorful commemorative poster of the Rangers of Blest.">> <<replace "#walls">>a colorful poster of the Rangers of Blest<</replace>><<replace "#walldescription">> <br> <br> This was a commemorative poster that you received for buying a lot of Rangers of Blest cards. You hate to admit it, but you're really becoming a fan of that card game… <</replace>><<set $walls to "a colorful poster of the Rangers of Blest">><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $clumsyposter is true>><li><<link "Hang the clumsy poster boldly proclaiming the edict \"LIVE, LAUGH, LOVE.\"">> <<replace "#walls">>a clumsy poster yelling 'LIVE, LAUGH, LOVE'<</replace>><<replace "#walldescription">> <br> <br> For whatever reason, anyone who sees this poster <i>hates</i> it, even those who would normally be polite or indifferent. <<if $chase >= 65 or $chaseromance is true or $chasesex is true>> Chase commented that he hates "pieces of paper that tell him what to do."<</if>><</replace>><<set $walls to "clumsy poster yelling \'LIVE, LAUGH, LOVE\'">><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $clownpainting is true>><li><<link "Hang the horrible, disturbing portrait of the half-melting clown.">> <<replace "#walls">>a nauseating portrait of an eyeless clown<</replace>><<replace "#walldescription">> <br> <br> Everyone claims that this painting radiates a menacing, evil aura, like a haunted or cursed object… but you sort of like it that way. You like your art to threaten people. <</replace>><<set $walls to "a nauseating portrait of an eyeless clown">><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $romanticpainting is true>><li><<link "Hang the romantic painting of two lovers clinging to each other in a passionate embrace.">> <<replace "#walls">>a romantic painting of two intimate lovers kissing<</replace>><<replace "#walldescription">> <br> <br> <<if $briony >= 65 or $brionyromance is true>> For whatever reason, this painting makes Briony blush whenever she looks at it too long.<</if>> It's a sweet portrait of two nameless lovers kissing passionately after being reunited on the battlefield. You often wonder about their story. <</replace>><<set $walls to "a romantic painting of two intimate lovers kissing">><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $serenepainting is true>><li><<link "Hang the serene painting of a tree shadowing a flowery meadow at the top of a hill.">> <<replace "#walls">>a serene painting of a tree standing guard over a sunny green hill<</replace>><<replace "#walldescription">> <br> <br> This painting fills you with a sense of total peace and calm. You might even go far as to call it your happy place. <</replace>><<set $walls to "a serene painting of a tree standing guard over a sunny green hill">><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $stormypainting is true>><li><<link "Hang the stormy painting depicting a ship riding the waves of a gray and lightning-cracked sea.">> <<replace "#walls">>stormy painting full of turbulent gray waves and white lightning<</replace>><<replace "#walldescription">> <br> <br> Something about this painting resonates with you a lot. <<if $halek >= 65>> You've caught Halek staring at it more than once, looking very deep in thought. <</if>> <</replace>><<set $walls to "stormy painting full of turbulent gray waves and white lightning">><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $desertpainting is true>><li><<link "Hang the wistful painting of multi-colored desert sands and a pastel sunset.">> <<replace "#walls">>a desert painting depicting soft colors and softer sands<</replace>><<replace "#walldescription">> <br> <br> This painting is gorgeous, partly because it depicts something that others consider to be harsh and inhospitable as a soft, warm, welcoming landscape. <<if $ayla >= 65 or $aylaromance is true>> Ayla <i>loves</i> it, even though she insists that she typically has no eye for art. <</if>> <</replace>><<set $walls to "a desert painting depicting soft colors and softer sands">><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $abstractpainting is true>><li><<link "Hang the abstract painting that depicts an unknowable square of pure black.">> <<replace "#walls">>a strange painting consisting only of the color black<</replace>><<replace "#walldescription">> <br> <br> This painting tends to annoy others, who simply consider it as a canvas painted black in a lazy effort to pass it off as art. However, something about it resonates with you. <<if $riel >= 65 or $rielromance is true>> Riel, on the other hand, launches into an invective-laced artistic rant every time he sees it, but you rarely bother to follow the thread of his criticisms. <</if>> <</replace>><<set $walls to "a strange painting consisting only of the color black">><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $muraloldfaith is true>><li><<link "Hang the epic mural depicting the gods, the Children of Light, and the Endarkened at war in the beginning of the world.">> <<replace "#walls">>a grand and classic mural depicting the Dawn Wars<</replace>><<replace "#walldescription">> <br> <br> This is a scene that's been depicted many times in classical art, but something about the detail of this mural draws you in. Every time you look at it, at the immense factions of people warring within it, you discover something new. <</replace>><<set $walls to "a grand and classic mural depicting the Dawn Wars">><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $muralonegod is true>><li><<link "Hang the epic mural depicting the One-God reaching out and touching the mind of a saint.">> <<replace "#walls">>a grand and classic mural depicting the One-God answering the prayers of a supplicating saint<</replace>><<replace "#walldescription">> <br> <br> This is a scene that's been depicted many times in classical art, but something about the atmosphere of this mural draws you in. For some reason, the saint looking upon the One-God is not filled with gratitude or love for Xer presence. There's something like confusion, fear, and hope on their face that intrigues you… as if there's more to this scene than you can know. <</replace>><<set $walls to "a grand and classic mural depicting the One-God answering the prayers of a supplicating saint">><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $deadhead is true>><li><<link "Hang the mounted head of the stag with white antlers.">> <<replace "#walls">>a taxidermied, mounted head of a white-antlered stag<</replace>><<replace "#walldescription">> <br> <br> It's the taxidermined head of a rare white-antlered stag; it stares at you with blank, dark eyes. <<if $shery >= 65 or $sheryromance is true>> Shery really can't abide by the thing, but you enjoy it. <</if>><</replace>><<set $walls to "a taxidermied, mounted head of a white-antlered stag">><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $cutlass is true>><li><<link "Hang the framed weapons case displaying a corsair's antique cutlass.">> <<replace "#walls">>a framed weapons case displaying an antique cutlass<</replace>><<replace "#walldescription">> <br> <br> This cutlass was said to belong to the infamous Pirate Queen, Sadye 'Fuming' Cross, though, of course, you have no way of verifying if that's true. <<if $chase >= 65 or $chaseromance is true or $chasesex is true>> Chase never leaves the bloody thing alone, always dreamily saying something along the lines of, "Ah, Sadye. A fiery one, to be sure," even though she'd had to have been over a hundred years old if he ever did cross paths with her. <</if>> <</replace>><<set $walls to "a framed weapons case displaying an antique cutlass">><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $elfpainting is true>><li><<link "Hang the Elvish painting of a maiden riding atop a panther-like ahfuri with glowing eyes.">> <<replace "#walls">>a painting of an Elvish maiden riding through the forest on an ahfuri<</replace>><<replace "#walldescription">> <br> <br> The Elf maiden's features are hidden by the dappled shadows of the forest leaves, but the eyes of her ahfuri are piercing and golden. <<if $tallys >= 65 or $tallysromance is true or $tallyssex is true>> Tallys claims that this is a very famous painting by a very old Elven artist, though if it were an actual original, it would cost you more than a ship's worth of gold. Back in the old days, anyway. <</if>> <</replace>><<set $walls to "a painting of an Elvish maiden riding through the forest on an ahfuri">><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $ketpainting is true>><li><<link "Hang the Ket painting of a crane wading among thrushes and spearing a fish with its sword-like beak.">> <<replace "#walls">>a painting of a crane hunting darting silver fish in a tranquil river<</replace>><<replace "#walldescription">> <br> <br> This painting is done in the Ket style, with unbroken, fluid lines of black ink. <<if $blade >= 65 or $bladeromance is true>> Blade claims that the painting is a metaphor for war, as many pieces of Ket art are, but exactly how, he refuses to explain. <</if>> <</replace>><<set $walls to "a painting of a crane hunting darting silver fish in a tranquil river">><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $hunterpainting is true>><li><<link "Hang the Hunter painting of a shining knight triumphing over some sort of Tainted creature.">> <<replace "#walls">>a painting of a knight vanquishing a monster<</replace>><<replace "#walldescription">> <br> <br> As far as you know, there were never any conventional 'knights' in Hunter history, so you figure this painting must be some kind of metaphor or allegory rather than a depiction of literal events. <</replace>><<set $walls to "a painting of a knight vanquishing a monster">><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $normpainting is true>><li><<link "Hang the Norm painting of peasants and farmers working during a golden harvest.">> <<replace "#walls">>a painting of a dusty farmland being worked over by hardy peasants<</replace>><<replace "#walldescription">> <br> <br> There's something about this painting that's inspiring. The commonfolk depicted in it seem so intrepid, so down-to-earth, that it gives you hope in humanity, somehow. <</replace>><<set $walls to "a painting of a dusty farmland being worked over by hardy peasants">><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link "Take down everything from the wall and leave it blank.">> <<replace "#walls">>nothing<</replace>><<replace "#walldescription">> <</replace>><<set $walls to "nothing">><</link>></li> </ul> <<page_break "Return" "room">>

<<nobr>> <span class="chaseswriting"><<print $firstname.toUpperCase()>>! PRAC T ICE D LETTRS. DID HW. EXPECT $… (r e wa r d) </span> <br><br> <center><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/room/chasecat.png"></center> <</nobr>>

<<set _rugdescription to "">> Currently, <span id="rug">$rug</span> lies on the floor. <span id="rugdescription"><br>_rugdescription</span> <ul class="choices"> <<if $exoticrug>><li><<link "Lay down the rich red rug with exotic gold designs.">> <<replace "#rug">>a rich, exotic red-and-gold rug<</replace>><<replace "#rugdescription">><</replace>><<set $rug to "a rich, exotic red-and-gold rug">><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $wovenrug>><li><<link "Lay down the hand-woven rainbow-colored rug.">> <<replace "#rug">>a cheerful rainbow-colored rug<</replace>><<replace "#rugdescription">><</replace>><<set $rug to "a cheerful rainbow-colored rug">><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $shaggyrug>><li><<link "Lay down the soft, shaggy sheepskin rug.">> <<replace "#rug">>a fluffy sheepskin rug<</replace>><<replace "#rugdescription">><</replace>><<set $rug to "a fluffy sheepskin rug">><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $furrug>><li><<link "Lay down the rich bearskin rug.">> <<replace "#rug">>a deep brown bearskin rug<</replace>><<replace "#rugdescription">><</replace>><<set $rug to "a deep brown bearskin rug">><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $lacerug>><li><<link "Lay down the lacy, white rug.">> <<replace "#rug">>a doily-like lacy white rug<</replace>><<replace "#rugdescription">><<if $lavinet >= 65 or $lavinetromance is true>>Lavinet claims that such rugs are all the rage in the South at the moment, though the rug's material is so thin and dainty that you're sometimes afraid to step on it.<</if>><</replace>><<set $rug to "a doily-like, lacy white rug">><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $floweryrug>><li><<link "Lay down the pink, flowery rug.">> <<replace "#rug">>a pastel-pink, floral rug<</replace>><<replace "#rugdescription">><</replace>><<set $rug to "a pastel-pink, floral rug">><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $yellowrug>><li><<link "Lay down the sunny, yellow rug.">> <<replace "#rug">>a sunny, egg-colored rug<</replace>><<replace "#rugdescription">><</replace>><<set $rug to "a sunny, egg-colored rug">><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $greenrug>><li><<link "Lay down the earthy, forest-green rug.">> <<replace "#rug">>a earthy, dappled green rug<</replace>><<replace "#rugdescription">><</replace>><<set $rug to "a earthy, dappled green rug">><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $searug>><li><<link "Lay down the bright, turquoise rug.">> <<replace "#rug">>a bright sea-blue rug<</replace>><<replace "#rugdescription">><</replace>><<set $rug to "a bright sea-blue rug">><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $bluerug>><li><<link "Lay down the deep blue rug with silver trim.">> <<replace "#rug">>Shepherd-colored blue-and-silver rug<</replace>><<replace "#rugdescription">><<if $lavinet >= 65 or $lavinetromance is true>>Lavinet never fails to remind you how much she approves of how this rug matches the colors of the Shepherds, their banners, and their uniforms. "You're a walking icon of our Order, darling," she always says. <</if>><</replace>><<set $rug to "a Shepherd-colored blue-and-silver rug">><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $purplerug>><li><<link "Lay down the royal purple rug.">> <<replace "#rug">>a kingly, deep purple rug<</replace>><<replace "#rugdescription">><</replace>><<set $rug to "a kingly, deep purple rug">><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $blackrug>><li><<link "Lay down the black statement rug.">> <<replace "#rug">>a foreboding black rug<</replace>><<replace "#rugdescription">><</replace>><<set $rug to "a foreboding black rug">><</link>></li><</if>> </ul> <<page_break "Return" "room">>

Please select up to five items to place on your shelf. <hr style="border-color: var(--accent)"> <label><input type="checkbox" id="cb18" value="shelfrock" class="chkGroup">  A rock from your hometown.</label> <br> <<if $education is "Self-taught">><label><input type="checkbox" id="cb19" value="shelfcharredbook" class="chkGroup">  The first charred spellbook you ever rescued from a book burning.</label> <br><</if>> <<if $education is "Journeyman">><label><input type="checkbox" id="cb20" value="shelfbelnusring" class="chkGroup">  A ring from your old master, Belnus Farplane.</label> <br><</if>> <<if $education is "Circle-trained">><label><input type="checkbox" id="cb21" value="shelfclassring" class="chkGroup">  Your class ring from Solhadur.</label> <br><</if>> <<if $caprasouvie is true and $caprasouvenir is "Tiny Replica of Capra">><label><input type="checkbox" id="cb1" value="shelfcaprareplica" class="chkGroup">  The tiny replica of Capra.</label> <br><</if>> <<if $caprasouvie is true and $caprasouvenir is "A Souvenir Pocketwatch from Capra">><label><input type="checkbox" id="cb2" value="shelfcaprawatch" class="chkGroup">  The souvenir pocketwatch from Capra.</label> <br><</if>> <<if $caprasouvie is true and $caprasouvenir is "Cluster of Emperor Hydrangeas from Capra">><label><input type="checkbox" id="cb3" value="shelfcapraflowers" class="chkGroup">  The cluster of emperor hydrangeas from Capra.</label> <br><</if>> <<if $huntersouvenir is true>><label><input type="checkbox" id="cb4" value="shelfnightshade" class="chkGroup">  The Hunter vase filled with angels' nightshade from the Reach.</label> <br><</if>> <<if $huntersouvenir2 is true>><label><input type="checkbox" id="cb5" value="shelfgate" class="chkGroup">  The white fragment of stone from the Mornhaven Gate.</label> <br><</if>> <<if $leonicrose is true>><label><input type="checkbox" id="cb6" value="shelfleonicrose" class="chkGroup">  The leonic rose from Heth Macoll.</label> <br><</if>> <<if $souvenirhethmacoll is true>><label><input type="checkbox" id="cb7" value="shelfhethmacoll" class="chkGroup">  The tiny replica of Heth Macoll.</label> <br> <</if>> <<if $lockwoodsouvenir is true>><label><input type="checkbox" id="cb8" value="shelflockwood" class="chkGroup">  The tiny replica of Lockwood.</label> <br><</if>> <<if $perfume is true>><label><input type="checkbox" id="cb9" value="shelfperfume" class="chkGroup">  The delicate green glass bottle of <i>Frolique</i> perfume.</label> <br><</if>> <<if $hyacinthe is true>><label><input type="checkbox" id="cb10" value="shelfhyacinthe" class="chkGroup">  The bunch of heart's hyacinthe from Lockwood.</label> <br><</if>> <<if $samona is true>><label><input type="checkbox" id="cb11" value="shelfsamona" class="chkGroup">  The wooden totem of Samona the Huntress.</label> <br><</if>> <<if $uusaemri is true>><label><input type="checkbox" id="cb12" value="shelfmri" class="chkGroup">  The hourglass totem of Uusae M'ri.</label> <br><</if>> <<if $picgroup is true>><label><input type="checkbox" id="cb13" value="shelfpicgroup" class="chkGroup">  The portrait of you and your friends.</label> <br><</if>> <<if $picrecruits is true>><label><input type="checkbox" id="cb14" value="shelfpicrecruits" class="chkGroup">  The portrait of you and your recruits.</label> <br><</if>> <<if $stuffedjester is true>><label><input type="checkbox" id="cb15" value="shelfstuffy1" class="chkGroup">  The hand-stitched stuffed jester from Chandry's shop.</label> <br><</if>> <<if $stuffedbear is true>><label><input type="checkbox" id="cb16" value="shelfstuffy2" class="chkGroup">  The soft yellow stuffed bear from Chandry's shop.</label> <br><</if>> <<if $stuffedrabbit is true>><label><input type="checkbox" id="cb17" value="shelfstuffy3" class="chkGroup">  The serious pink stuffed rabbit from Chandry's shop.</label> <br><</if>> <<if $musicbox is true>><label><input type="checkbox" id="cb22" value="shelfmusicbox" class="chkGroup">  The exquisitely-crafted music box featuring an abramic oak figurine.</label> <br><</if>> <<if $strongmangold is true>><label><input type="checkbox" id="cb23" value="shelfstrongmangold" class="chkGroup">  The gold trophy that you won during a strongman competition with Ayla.</label> <br><</if>> <<script>> $(document).one(':passagerender', function (ev) { function selectiveCheck (event) { var i, checkedChecks = document.querySelectorAll(".chkGroup:checked"); $("#result").empty(); for (i = 0; i < checkedChecks.length; i++) { if (checkedChecks.length < max + 1) { $("#result").wiki($(checkedChecks[i]).attr("value") + " "); } else if (event.target != checkedChecks[i]) { $("#result").wiki($(checkedChecks[i]).attr("value") + " "); } } if (checkedChecks.length >= max + 1) return false; } var checks = $(ev.content).find(".chkGroup"); var max = 5; for (var i = 0; i < checks.length; i++) { checks[i].onclick = selectiveCheck; } }); <</script>> <br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Return</span></div></div>' "room">> <<set $shelfcaprareplica = $("#cb1").prop("checked")>> <<set $shelfcaprawatch = $("#cb2").prop("checked")>> <<set $shelfcapraflowers = $("#cb3").prop("checked")>> <<set $shelfnightshade = $("#cb4").prop("checked")>> <<set $shelfgate = $("#cb5").prop("checked")>> <<set $shelfleonicrose = $("#cb6").prop("checked")>> <<set $shelfhethmacoll = $("#cb7").prop("checked")>> <<set $shelflockwood = $("#cb8").prop("checked")>> <<set $shelfperfume = $("#cb9").prop("checked")>> <<set $shelfhyacinthe = $("#cb10").prop("checked")>> <<set $shelfsamona = $("#cb11").prop("checked")>> <<set $shelfmri = $("#cb12").prop("checked")>> <<set $shelfpicgroup = $("#cb13").prop("checked")>> <<set $shelfpicrecruits = $("#cb14").prop("checked")>> <<set $shelfstuffy1 = $("#cb15").prop("checked")>> <<set $shelfstuffy2 = $("#cb16").prop("checked")>> <<set $shelfstuffy3 = $("#cb17").prop("checked")>> <<set $shelfrock = $("#cb18").prop("checked")>> <<set $shelfcharredbook = $("#cb19").prop("checked")>> <<set $shelfbelnusring = $("#cb20").prop("checked")>> <<set $shelfclassring = $("#cb21").prop("checked")>> <<set $shelfmusicbox = $("#cb22").prop("checked")>> <<set $shelfstrongmangold = $("#cb23").prop("checked")>> <</link>></center>

<<set $wardrobeTabsData to { work: { tabKey: "work", tabName: "WORK", items: [ {name: "SHEPHERDS UNIFORM: SUMMER", desc: "Several sets of Shepherd uniforms. These are lighter and have shorter sleeves and shorter collars for warm weather.", hasIcon: 'clothes'}, {name: "SHEPHERDS UNIFORM: WINTER", desc: "Several sets of Shepherd uniforms. These are comprised of much thicker layers, longer sleeves, an outer coat, gloves, and a cloak for cold weather.", hasIcon: 'clothes'}, {name: "SHEPHERDS UNIFORM: FORMAL", desc: "Your formal uniform, reserved for ceremonial or formal military occasions.", hasIcon: 'clothes'}, ], }, formal: { tabKey: "formal", tabName: "FORMAL", items: [ {hideItem: $formalwearhave is false, name: "MINISTER'S GALA OUTFIT", desc: "$formalwear. Riel gave you this tailor-made outfit when you were infiltrating the Trade Minister's gala.", hasIcon: 'clothes'}, {hideItem: $formalwearhave2 is false, name: "GLADIATOR DINNER OUTFIT", desc: "$formalwear2. You were given these clothes to wear as an honored guest after winning an invitation to the Sponsor's dinner at the gladiator's arena in Heth Macoll. ", hasIcon: 'clothes'}, {hideItem: $formalwear3 is "", name: "TAILORS GUILD OUTFIT", desc: "$formalwear3. These clothes were tailor-made for you by Ysbeta, a skilled seamstress from the Tailors Guild. ", hasIcon: 'clothes'}, {hideItem: $outfit is "", name: "TAILORS GUILD OUTFIT", desc: "$outfita $outfitstyle $outfitcolor $outfit. These clothes were tailor-made for you by Ysbeta, a skilled seamstress from the Tailors Guild. ", hasIcon: 'clothes'}, {hideItem: $formalwear4 is "", name: "LOCKWOOD OUTFIT", desc: "$formalwear4. This outfit was a gift from Lavinet during your mission to Lockwood.", hasIcon: 'clothes'}, ], }, misc: { tabKey: "misc", tabName: "MISCELLANEOUS", items: [ {hideItem: $sunhat is false, name: "ELEGANT SUN HAT", desc: "This large, fashionable sun hat was a souvenir from a boutique vendor in Lockwood.", hasIcon: 'hat'}, ], }, }>> <<inventory_holder $wardrobeTabsData "shop-holder">>

<<set $checkdossier to false, $sheryask to false>><<audio ":playing" fadeoverto 7 0>> <<if $trainingtime is 1>> <<include "begintraining">> <<elseif $trainingtime is 2>> <<include "secondtime">> <<elseif $trainingtime is 3>> <<include "trainingsession3">> <<else>> [This section is incomplete. Please check back later.] <br><br> <<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "dayoff">><<set $dayoff -= 1, $trainingtime -= 1>><</link>> <</if>>

Blade has informed you that, as captain, you will now be placed in command of your own squadron of recruits, especially since the Order's numbers have swelled to such a degree. He, Trouble, and Tallys have their hands full with their own new squads: it'll be up to you to whip these particular recruits into shape, train them, and give them the best chance of survival you can. Although they undergo regular training with the rest of the "greenies," as Trouble calls them, they will also receive special instruction from you, and will eventually be at your command to dispatch in the field as your own personal team of agents. As of right now, though, they're so new that they can only be relegated to patrol duty and the other everyday tasks fresh young recruits handle, like weapons cleaning, guard watch, and delivering messages. You glance down at the team report that Shery's assembled for you. You've been so busy on missions that you haven't even had the time to greet your new squad members, let alone learn their names. This is the first breather you've had where there was enough time to assemble all four recruits and officially meet them. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You're confident. You've been looking forward to this.</div>' 'autogenerated_67599'>><<setcourage +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You're filled with dread. This is going to be the worst.</div>' 'autogenerated_67600'>><<setloyal -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You're nervous. You hope they like you.</div>' 'begintraining2'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You're skeptical. Judging by the state of the other greenies, you have a long road ahead of you.</div>' 'begintraining2'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You're indifferent. This is just part of the job: nothing more, nothing less.</div>' 'begintraining2'>><<setloyal +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

You have to admit, being in charge of your own personal squadron sounds fun. Although your rank means you can give orders to any recruit in the Order, having your own special team feels... well, special. Exciting. <<include 'begintraining2'>>

You're not the commanding type, or the teaching type, or the... whatever kind of mentor they want you to be. This is going to be like pulling teeth. <<include 'begintraining2'>>

You look down at the dossier Shery gave you. She said each recruit placed on a special squadron was selected for their potential, and they were even officially evaluated and assessed by the Order's drill-masters and <<nobr>><<if $rieljoin is true>> Riel to see if they were up to snuff. <<else>> a Healer to see if they were up to snuff. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "dossier">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Look at the report on Justyn Hattoc.</div>' 'justyn'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Look at the report on Cybele Minte.</div>' 'cybele'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Look at the report on Ysa Ull.</div>' 'ysa'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Look at the report on Daren Corby.</div>' 'daren'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You're all done reading the reports. </div>' 'exitreports'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>> <<if $checkdossier is true and $trainingtime is 1>> <<include "timetotrain1">> <<elseif $trainingtime is 1>> <<include "training1">> <<elseif $trainingtime is 2 and $checkdossier is true>> <<include "missionleader1">> <<elseif $trainingtime is 2>> <<include "timetotrain2">> <<elseif $trainingtime is 3>> <<include "timetotrain3">> <</if>> <</nobr>>

<<set $loadPassage to Story.get("justyndossier").text;>> <<letter_holder "note" $loadPassage>> <<include "dossier">>

<center><span class="heading">Justyn Hattoc</span></center> Male Mage (Enchanter) Primary Weapon: Pistol <b>Background</b>: Justyn Hattoc formerly worked as a bard and traveling minstrel, roaming the land and entertaining others with stories and songs. He decided to join the Shepherds following an Endarkened attack on the road, of which he was the sole survivor (out of a caravan of seventeen). He is capable enough with a gun, and shows a strong talent at using Enchanting magic to both create illusions and persuade others to see things his way. <<nobr>><<if ($rieljoin is true)>> <b>Riel's Notes:</b> <<else>> <b>Notes:</b><</if>><</nobr>> He is honest enough, but views himself as more intelligent than the average person, and will obey orders only reluctantly if he can't see the sense in them at first glance. He constantly questions things, and shows a somewhat cautious, self-preserving, possibly slightly cynical disposition. While adept with a gun and showing a natural talent for persuasion and occasionally charm, he is easily-distracted and proves poor at hand-to-hand or close-quarters combat—at least at first blush. Due to his high regard of his own intelligence and agency, his respect and obedience must be earned: it is not so freely given. <<nobr>><<if ($rieljoin is true)>> Don't show any weakness in front of him; it is hard to gain his regard and easy to lose it. He was selected for his strong potential in understanding political maneuvers, diplomacy, tactics, and for his intuitive adeptness at using Enchanting magic.<</if>><</nobr>> <b>Evaluation</b>: Ranged Combat: <<grade $justynscoreranged>> Melee Combat: <<grade $justynscoremelee>> Riding: <<grade $justynscoreriding>> Arcana: <<grade $justynscorearcana>> Tactics: <<grade $justynscoretactics>> Diplomacy: <<grade $justynscorediplomacy>> Offense: <<grade $justynscoreoffense>> Defense: <<grade $justynscoredefense>> Stealth: <<grade $justynscorestealth>> <br>

<<set $loadPassage to Story.get("cybeledossier").text;>> <<letter_holder "note" $loadPassage>> <<include "dossier">>

<center><span class="heading">Cybele Minte</span></center> Female Elf Primary Weapon: Claymore <b>Background</b>: Cybele Minte was born and raised on a farm in the Sun's Embrace with many siblings. She worked on the farm for most of her life, but came to Haven in pursuit of a relationship later gone sour. Following that, she decided to join the Shepherds after the incident at the church in Whitestone (involving one Prihine Naveen's wedding to Turti Ushala). She has only just taken up the sword, but claims she used her parents' pitchfork quite often to defend their farm. <<nobr>> <<if ($rieljoin is true)>> <b>Riel's Notes:</b> <<else>> <b>Notes:</b> <</if>> <</nobr>> She gives the appearance of incredible laziness. I suspect this is in part due to her skewed sense of time: to Elvish sensibilities, there is always enough time to accomplish this or that, so she assigns no urgency to any of her given tasks. What should be done in the next hour, she is content to wait until the next day to perform. This is not necessarily malicious, but it is hard to convince her to move more quickly. She also complains and claims things are too difficult for her, but it is of my opinion that she was not used to doing much, with an abundance of siblings around to share the workload, and so severely underestimates her own capabilities. <<nobr>> <<if ($rieljoin is true)>> When she <i>does</i> exert herself, she demonstrates incredible feats of strength as well as an improvisational ability to operate off-the-cuff that is markedly rare in Elven recruits. <br><br> Good luck. <</if>><</nobr>> <b>Evaluation</b>: Ranged Combat: <<grade $cybelescoreranged>> Melee Combat: <<grade $cybelescoremelee>> Riding: <<grade $cybelescoreriding>> Arcana: <<grade $cybelescorearcana>> Tactics: <<grade $cybelegradetactics>> Diplomacy: <<grade $cybelescorediplomacy>> Offense: <<grade $cybelescoreoffense>> Defense: <<grade $cybelescoredefense>> Stealth: <<grade $cybelescorestealth>> <br>

<<set $loadPassage to Story.get("ysadossier").text;>> <<letter_holder "note" $loadPassage>> <<include "dossier">>

<center><span class="heading">Ysa Ull</span></center> Female Mage (Elementalist) Primary Weapon: Sickle and Chain <b>Background</b>: Ysa seems to hail from the North, possibly Luxue or Karzai, though she has remained close-lipped on her origins. She has no formal experience in wielding weapons, but is a fair rider of horses and is naturally-talented at using Elemental magic, specifically magic involving ice and snow. She is one of the few Elementalists who specialize in only one <<nobr>><<if $aylajoin is true>> element, another being our resident Wind-Mage, Ayla Aescar. <<else>> element. <</if>><</nobr>> She wears gloves and refuses to have bare-skinned contact with anybody, whether instructor, friend, or foe. Of all weapons, she demonstrated the most potential with a sickle and chain, so that is what she has been equipped with. Although relatively raw and untrained, her potential in ice and possibly even weather magic is singular among her peers, though she'll need the right conditions to coax her abilities to full strength. <<nobr>><<if ($rieljoin is true)>> <b>Riel's Notes:</b> <<else>> <b>Notes:</b><</if>><</nobr>> Ysa is quiet and reserved, though also polite and sensible. She will follow orders readily, but she will rarely say what she's really thinking or make conversation with her fellow recruits. Her origins are a mystery, and others find her aloof, enigmatic, or snobbish. From her accent, I would guess that she's both from Korgoth and formally educated, possibly by university tutors. <<nobr>><<if ($rieljoin is true)>> I would even guess that she came from a wealthy family, possibly aristocratic but not necessarily; that she fled her native home due to either a crisis, a scandal, or rejection of her Mage blood; and that she refuses to touch others because she naturally runs cold and is repulsed by their warmth. Of course, this is all guesswork, so feel free to disregard it if it doesn't ring true. <</if>><</nobr>> <b>Evaluation</b>: Ranged Combat: <<grade $ysascoreranged>> Melee Combat: <<grade $ysascoremelee>> Riding: <<grade $ysascoreriding>> Arcana: <<grade $ysascorearcana>> Tactics: <<grade $ysascoretactics>> Diplomacy: <<grade $ysascorediplomacy>> Offense: <<grade $ysascoreoffense>> Defense: <<grade $ysascoredefense>> Stealth: <<grade $ysascorestealth>> <br>

<<set $loadPassage to Story.get("darendossier").text;>> <<letter_holder "note" $loadPassage>> <<include "dossier">>

<center><span class="heading">Daren Corby</span></center> Male Ket Primary Weapon: Hook Swords, Javelins <b>Background</b>: Daren Corby hails from Torsari, a former Ket city that came under the control of Mages, then the Autarchy. He worked as a mercenary for most of his adult life before hearing rumors of the Shepherds, after which he came to Haven. He is skilled with several forms of weaponry, particularly javelins, and demonstrated immense strength in throwing them during physical tests. However, because much of his adult life has been solitary, he does not mince words and tends to be critical of others. His combat experience and honed instincts would make him an excellent candidate for a leadership position if he didn't cause so much friction in teams. <<nobr>><<if ($rieljoin is true)>> <b>Riel's Notes:</b> <<else>> <b>Notes:</b><</if>><</nobr>> Daren is arrogant about his abilities and battle experience in comparison to the other recruits. He looks down on others who don't strive for physical perfection and the mastery of their skills. While he can be more talkative than many caste-raised Ket, he is blunt, abrasive, and occasionally downright rude in his communications when it comes to his peers. To his leaders, however, he is perfectly obedient, loyal, and eager to please, earning him the reputation of a teacher's pet among other recruits. While he is generally level-headed and reliable in combat, he has an inflexible, perfectionist attitude when it comes to coordination and teamwork, despising when things are out of order and lambasting others for their mistakes or sloppiness, tolerating no excuse for failure. This has earned him the title "Officer Prefect" behind his back and the ire of many of his fellow recruits. <<nobr>><<if $rieljoin is true>>Under the right guidance, however, he could be forged into an elite and deadly soldier. Preliminary evaluations place him in the soldier caste of the Khehi Ket. <</if>><</nobr>> <b>Evaluation</b>: Ranged Combat: <<grade $darenscoreranged>> Melee Combat: <<grade $darenscoremelee>> Riding: <<grade $darenscoreriding>> Arcana: <<grade $darenscorearcana>> Tactics: <<grade $darenscoretactics>> Diplomacy: <<grade $darenscorediplomacy>> Offense: <<grade $darenscoreoffense>> Defense: <<grade $darenscoredefense>> Stealth: <<grade $darenscorestealth>> <br>

... <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">It could be worse.</div>' 'tuckingawayyourdossier'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">It could be better.</div>' 'tuckingawayyourdossier'>><</link>> <<if $belief is "oldfaith">><<link '<div class="choice-item">Gods help you.</div>' 'tuckingawayyourdossier'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $belief is "one-god">><<link '<div class="choice-item">God help you.</div>' 'tuckingawayyourdossier'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">This was the best the Order had to offer?</div>' 'tuckingawayyourdossier'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You'll refrain from judging until you meet them.</div>' 'tuckingawayyourdossier'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Tucking away your dossier, you walk to one of the training courtyards, where your new recruits are waiting for you. Instead, a loud commotion greets you as you arrive: there are four young adults standing in the courtyard, each bawling at another and looking about to come to blows. A tall Ket with tidy, cropped brown hair stands with his arms folded, looking contemptuous as a diminutive Elf jabs a finger into his chest, nearly blue in the face from yelling. An annoyed-looking youngish man is attempting to separate them, getting an earful for his trouble, while a Mage with long silvery hair stands off to the side, looking aloof. You pause in the center of the courtyard, waiting for them to notice you, but instead the recruits only keep arguing. "It may be well and good for you, Officer Prefect," the Elf yells, leaning up into the Ket's face, "but we're not all bloodthirsty savages trained to knife our mothers at birth!" A vein in the Ket's forehead throbs. "Watch your tongue," he says icily, "or this <i>savage</i> will cut it out for you." "Isn't that just perfect! You've proved me right already!" "Would you two just shut up for a moment? No one can think with you yapping and squawking—" "And you! I ought to—" <<include "ruhroh">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("ruhroh_throat")>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Clear your throat pointedly.</div>' 'ruhroh_throat'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("ruhroh_interject")>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Interject calmly.</div>' 'ruhroh_interject'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("ruhroh_yell")>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Yell. "RECRUITS! GET IN LINE!"</div>' 'ruhroh_yell'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Wait in frosty silence. They'll notice you eventually.</div>' 'ruhroh_wait'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<if ($courage >= 25) or ($charisma >= 25)>> Immediately, the Ket's eyes fly to you; his back goes ram-rod straight, and he falls silent. The others catch on quite quickly, and they all go white in the face, scrambling to form a line. <br><br> <<include "ruhroh_continue">> <<else>> But the small sound fails to draw anyone's attention, and they continue to yell and bicker. <<include "ruhroh">> <</if>>

<<if $charisma >= 30>> You don't even need to say much; just the sound of your voice sends the recruits catapulting into position like a group of frightened cats. Some go white in the face as they scramble to form a line. <br><br> <<include "ruhroh_continue">> <<else>> But your voice is lost in all the commotion; your presence is just not forceful enough. <<include "ruhroh">> <</if>>

<<if ($courage >= 30) or ($charisma >= 30) or ($compassionate <= 45)>> The Elf yelps in surprise, and all of their heads rotate towards you, like they're a herd of startled deer. Instantly, the recruits go white in the face, scrambling to form a line and practically tripping over themselves to do so. <br><br> <<include "ruhroh_continue">> <<else>> But even the sound of your shouting fails to overtake their own; they don't hear you. <<include "ruhroh">> <</if>>

<<if $reputation >= 30>> It doesn't take long before the Mage's eyes go to you; she steps on the intervening man's foot, and he howls. Then they all catch sight of you, and the color drains from their faces; the recruits practically trip over themselves to form a line. <<else>> It takes a while, and it's rather embarassing to just stand there in silence and be ignored, but you persist, and eventually the recruits notice you. They fall into a gloomy silence and form a line. <</if>> <br><br> <<include "ruhroh_continue">>

It's still rather sloppy, but at least they're paying attention to you. How are you going to manage your first impression with the squad? <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">I'll be friendly and understanding, to get them to trust me.</div>' 'ruhroh_firstimpression_friendly'>><<set $teammorale += 2>><<setcharisma +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">I'll be stern and commanding, to get them to respect me.</div>' 'ruhroh_firstimpression_stern'>><<set $teamdiscipline += 1>><<setcourage +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">I'll be harsh and exacting. I'm not here to make friends, and they need the discipline.</div>' 'ruhroh_firstimpression_harsh'>><<set $teamdiscipline += 2>><<setcompassionate -3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">I'll be calm and patient, to be a balancing presence for them.</div>' 'ruhroh_firstimpression_calm'>><<set $teammorale += 1>><<setcompassionate +3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

You spend some time introducing yourself in bright, cheerful tones. You watch as the recruits' shoulders relax, and one or two even begin to smile. <<include "ruhroh_introductions">>

You spend some time introducing yourself with a serious, severe tone. You watch as their backs straighten and they raise their chins, trying to look smarter to impress you. <<include "ruhroh_introductions">>

You spend some time barking orders and criticisms at them. You watch as their backs straighten and they raise their chins in an effort to appease you, looking slightly terrified. <<include "ruhroh_introductions">>

You spend some time making gentle, even-toned introductions. You watch as the recruits' shoulders relax, and one or two even begin to smile. <<include "ruhroh_introductions">>

The Mage's name is Ysa Ull. She doesn't speak much, but listens attentively and nods along with what you say. Even despite the warm day, she's dressed in heavy furs and has white-blond hair that falls to her waist. Her eyes are a strange lilac color, and she wears thick gloves. The young man Justyn—who looks like a Norm but is apparently a Mage—is tall and lanky, with tannish hair tied back in a low ponytail. He fidgets nervously as he stands, but when he speaks, his voice is smooth and engaging, as if he's used to public speaking. He carries a pistol at his hip and he constantly raises his hand to ask you questions. The Ket's name is Daren Corby. He is enormously tall, solidly-built, and willing to carry out your orders at the snap of a finger, looking alert and impeccably-dressed. However, it's clear everyone else on the team hates him. The Elf who was arguing with him is Cybele Minte. Brown-skinned and vaguely pixie-like in appearance, she has a crop of auburn hair and barely comes up to your shoulder—yet she carries an enormous sword across her back that's practically three-quarters the length of her body. <<nobr>><<if $sherytime < 3>> You notice her covering her mouth in a yawn a few times as you talk. <br><br> Finally, you finish up your introductions. <<else>> You think you recognize two of them, and suddenly it comes to you: Cybele and Justyn were among the recruits who were ignoring Shery when she was trying to get them to clear out some stockrooms. It seems they recognize you, too, and are practically sweating bullets. This will be interesting. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "firsttalkrecruits">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("firsttalk_arguing")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Why were you all arguing?"</div>' 'firsttalk_arguing'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited ("firsttalk_questions")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Is there anything you'd like to ask me before we begin?"</div>' 'firsttalk_questions'>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($sherytime >= 3) and ($sheryask is false)>><<link '<div class="question-item">"I believe Justyn and Cybele recognize me. Care to explain yourselves?"</div>' 'firsttalk_shery'>><<set $sheryask to true>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("firsttalk_deserve")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"I want each of you to tell me why you think you deserve to be on my squad."</div>' 'firsttalk_deserve'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Let's get straight to training.</div>' 'firstdaytraining'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Cybele throws a look at Daren, who declines to speak or even blink, he's so focused on standing at attention. Finally she says, "Daren said our uniforms weren't up to snuff, Cap'n. We got sick of him nagging at us, so we were just standing up for ourselves." Daren looks annoyed, but he doesn't say a word. Ysa mutters: "Speak for yourself." You look at their uniforms. In the cases of all but Daren's, they are pretty sloppy: Justyn's gun-belt is askew, Ysa's boots are muddy, and Cybele looks like she put her uniform on in the dark while half-asleep. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"He's right. The three of you need to straighten up."</div>' 'firsttalk_arguing_response1'>><<set $teamdiscipline += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Leave the criticisms to me, Daren. You just focus on yourself."</div>' 'firsttalk_arguing_response2'>><<set $teamdiscipline -= 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"No one likes a snitch, Cybele. Do better."</div>' 'firsttalk_arguing_response3'>><<set $teamdiscipline += 1>><<set $teammorale -= 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Nod and let the moment pass without comment.</div>' 'firsttalkrecruits'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Daren smirks while the blood drains from the other three's faces. "Yes, Captain," Justyn says airlessly, brushing his clothes with a sheepish air. <<include "firsttalkrecruits">>

Cybele smirks as Daren's face turns white. "Yes, Captain," he says, almost too quietly to hear. <<include "firsttalkrecruits">>

Daren smirks as the blood drains from her face. "Aye, Cap'n," she says sullenly. <<include "firsttalkrecruits">>

<<set $justynask to 0>>All hands go into the air: even Daren's and Ysa's. Justyn seems most eager to ask you questions, and even has multiple ones to offer. <<include "askrecruits">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if ($justynask != 3)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"What is it, Justyn?"</div>' 'justyn_questions'>><<set $justynask += 1>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("cybelenosy")>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"What is it, Cybele?"</div>' 'cybelenosy'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("ysa_question")>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"What is it, Ysa?"</div>' 'ysa_question'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("daren_question")>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"What is it, Daren?"</div>' 'daren_question'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">It seems they're all done asking questions. For now.</div>' 'autogenerated_67601'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

You scan the faces of your nervous recruits, who range between looking petrified and filled with hopeful excitement. <<include 'firsttalkrecruits'>>

<<nobr>> /* comment add the reach and halek when chapter 4 is more done */ <<if $justynask is 3>> "Did you really teleport to a different realm and stop a demon from feeding on those Mages' souls?" he asks. Ysa raises her eyebrow, as if convinced he's telling some tall tale. <<if $possessed is true>> <br><br> You frown. Strangely, you don't really remember the details… but you've heard that's essentially what happened. <br><br> Justyn catches the strange look on your face and falls silent. <<include "askrecruits">> <<else>> <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Yes, and it was terrifying. I wouldn't recommend it."</div>' 'justyn_response3'>><<set $teammorale -= 1>><<set $teamdiscipline -= 1>><<setcourage -3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Yes, and I couldn't have done it without the others' help."</div>' 'justyn_response3'>><<setblade +1>><<setayla +1>><<setred +1>><<setchase +1>><<set $teamdiscipline += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Yes, and I single-handedly saved everyone's asses while I was at it."</div>' 'justyn_response3'>><<setcunning +3>><<setblade -3>><<setayla -3>><<setred -3>><<setchase -3>><<set $teammorale += 1>><<set $teamdiscipline -= 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"...Sort of?"</div>' 'justyn_response3'>><<setcharisma -3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <</if>> <<elseif $justynask is 2>> "Did you really stop a war between the Thieves Guild and the Merchants Guild?" Justyn asks in an awed voice. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"That's... not exactly how it went."</div>' 'justyn_response2a'>><<set $teammorale -= 1>><<setcompassionate +3>><<setloyal +10>><<setriel +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Yep. They would have torn the city apart if not for me."</div>' 'justyn_response2b'>><<setchase +3>><<setriel -3>><<setcunning +3>><<set $teamdiscipline -= 1>><<set $teammorale += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Thieves Guild and Merchants Guild had a misunderstanding, that's all. Eventually we realized we could all work together to stop our true enemy: the Endarkened."</div>' 'justyn_response2c'>><<setchase +3>><<setriel +3>><<setloyal +3>><<setcharisma +3>><<set $teamdiscipline += 1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <<elseif $justynask is 1>> <<if $troubleequalist is true>> "Is it really true that you single-handedly saved a group of children from mad cultists, Captain?" he asks. <<if $childrendead is true>> <<set $teammorale -= 1>> <br><br> Your heart sinks, and you look away. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Tell the truth. You killed the cultiists, but the children weren't there.</div>' 'justyn_response1a'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I don't want to talk about that."</div>' 'justyn_response1b'>><<set $teammorale -= 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Lie. "...Yes."</div>' 'justyn_response1c'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <<else>> <<set $teammorale += 1>> <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Yup, all by myself."</div>' 'justyn_response1d'>><<settrouble -5>><<setcunning +10>><<setloyal -3>><<set $teammorale += 1>><<set $teamdiscipline -= 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"That is true, though it wasn't single-handed: Vice-Commander Trouble was also there."</div>' 'justyn_response1e'>><<settrouble +3>><<setcompassionate +3>><<setloyal +3>><<set $teamdiscipline += 1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <</if>> <<elseif $tallysequalist is true>> "Is it really true that you stood up to a gang of Inquisitors and saved an innocent man from being taken away?" <<if $inquisitors is true>> <<set $teammorale += 1>> <br><br> "Yes, that's true, <<if $inquisitorswin is true>> though it was two Inquisitors, not a gang." You pause. <<elseif $croellesave is true>> though I needed someone's help to drive them off." You pause and think of Croelle. <</if>> <<if $coinscar is true>> "I even have the scar to prove it." <</if>> <br><br> They make little sounds of approval and excitement. <<else>> <<set $teammorale -= 1>> You look away. How did that rumor even spread? It's just wishful thinking. "No, that's not true at all." <br><br> Justyn winces. "Oh." <</if>> <<include "askrecruits">> <</if>> <</if>> <</nobr>>

He looks away, looking awkward. "…Oh." <<include "askrecruits">>

<<nobr>><<if $cunning >= 30>> <<set $teammorale += 1>> Justyn's eyes go wide. "Wow." <<else>> <<set $teamdiscipline -= 2>> <<set $teammorale -= 2>> Justyn nods, but it's clear something in your voice sounded false. "Oh… I see," he says awkwardly. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "askrecruits">>

<<nobr>><<if $childrenquarantined is true>> You glance back at the compound. "I even brought the children here to the Order." <br><br> <</if>> <</nobr>> The recruits make noises of awe and appreciation. <<include "askrecruits">>

<<nobr>><<if $childrenquarantined is true>> You glance at the compound. "We even brought the children here to the Order." <br><br> <</if>><</nobr>> The recruits make noises of awe and appreciation. <<include "askrecruits">>

Justyn frowns. "Oh." <<include "askrecruits">>

Cybele whistles while Justyn nods. "Amazing." <<include "askrecruits">>

Justyn nods. "I see…" <<include "askrecruits">>

Ysa regards you, pale lavender eyes wide. "It sounds like something out of stories," she says in her thick accent. <<include "askrecruits">>

She shifts, looking uncomfortable for a moment, before she speaks in her soft, lilting voice. "Is it true," she says, her voice hardly above a murmur, "that you have terrible nightmares? And that once strange shadows came to the compound, summoned by your visions?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"<i>That's none of your business</i>. How dare you!"</div>' 'ysa_response1'>><<set $teamdiscipline += 3>><<set $teammorale -= 3>><<setcompassionate -5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Yes, I have nightmares. That incident... I'm not totally sure what happened, but no one came to harm."</div>' 'ysa_response2'>><<set $teamdiscipline += 1>><<set $teammorale += 1>><<setcourage +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"No. That's just a silly rumor."</div>' 'ysa_response3'>><<set $teamdiscipline += 1>><<setcunning +10>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Doesn't everybody have nightmares, nowadays?"</div>' 'ysa_response4'>><<setcharisma +3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Ysa looks shocked, and Justyn puts a hand on her arm. She says, her voice now inaudible, "…I'm sorry." <<include "askrecruits">>

Justyn's face goes white at your admission, but somehow, Ysa—and even Daren—look grave and somewhat admiring. She nods and murmurs, "Thank you." <<include "askrecruits">>

<<nobr>><<if $cunning >= 30>> <<set $teammorale += 1>> Ysa nods. "I see. I'm sorry, Captain." <<else>> <<set $teammorale -= 1>> It doesn't look like any of them believe you. "I see," Ysa murmurs, regarding you carefully. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "askrecruits">>

<<nobr>><<if $charisma >= 35>> The others' faces relax, and Cybele laughs nervously. "I suppose that's true, Cap'n," she says. "Hard to sleep well when the Autarch's wanting to skin us, and demons are running around in the night." She glances at Ysa, who nods. "Guess nightmares aren't that strange." <<else>> <<set $teammorale -= 1>> Ysa nods, but none of them quite seem to buy your deflection. You turn to another recruit to break the awkward silence. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "askrecruits">>

Daren shifts into a straight-backed stance, his chin raising. <<nobr>><<if $runtowardsdemon is true>> <<set $teammorale += 1>> "What was it like, facing down two Revenants on your own?" he asks. "At that wedding?" He looks around at the others. "We've all heard about it. How you killed two of them by yourself, and you weren't even a Shepherd yet." <br><br> "I joined because of that," Cybele butts in. "I didn't know it was <i>you</i>, obviously, but I heard that someone had done it and I thought… maybe I could do something like that, too." <br><br> "What was it like?" Ysa asks in her soft, accented voice. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I didn't really think much of it at the time. I just... moved."</div>' 'daren_response1'>><<setcourage +3>><<setcompassionate +3>><<set $teammorale += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I was terrified. But I had to push through it, or we were all going to die."</div>' 'daren_response2'>><<setcourage +3>><<setcompassionate +3>><<set $teammorale += 1>><<set $teamdiscipline += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I was angry. I wanted to get my revenge. All I thought about was killing those demonic sons of bitches."</div>' 'daren_response3'>><<setcompassionate -3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I didn't want to do it. But I would have been sick with myself if I didn't something."</div>' 'daren_response4'>><<setcompassionate +3>><<set $teamdiscipline += 1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <<elseif $runfromdemon is true>> <<set $teammorale -= 1>> <<set $teamdiscipline -= 1>> "Why did you run from that church, when the two Revenants attacked?" he asks. "At that wedding in Whitestone?" He looks around at the others, who nod. "We've all heard about it." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Did you also hear that I faced one of them down in the street on my own? And killed it?"</div>' 'daren_response5'>><<set $teamdiscipline += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I was scared. Anyone would have been. I'd like to see what you would have done in that situation."</div>' 'daren_response6'>><<set $teammorale -= 1>><<set $teamdiscipline -= 1>><<setcharisma -3>><<setcourage -3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I was hoping to lure them out into the street. Better terrain for fighting." <b>[LIE]</b></div>' 'daren_response7'>><<setcunning +4>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I was no longer employed by the person who was getting married. Why should I risk my neck for someone else, with no thanks or recompense?"</div>' 'daren_response8'>><<setcunning +4>><<setcourage -3>><<setcompassionate -5>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <</if>><</nobr>>

The others look awed. "I hope my instincts will take over like that, when the time comes," Daren says gravely. <<include "askrecruits">>

Cybele whistles. "Hope I can do that," she says. "When the time comes." <<include "askrecruits">>

Daren nods gravely. "I understand that." "Revenge for what?" Cybele asks—but no one answers her. <<include "askrecruits">>

Justyn nods. "The guilt would have eaten at me too," he says, more seriously than you would expect. <<include "askrecruits">>

"Yes," Daren says, "but we also heard that everyone in the church died." <<include "askrecruits">>

"I have never run from a fight in my life," Daren says, completely straight-faced. <<include "askrecruits">>

<<nobr>><<if $cunning >= 30>> <<setcunning +3>> <<set $teammorale += 1>> <<set $teamdiscipline += 1>> They nod approvingly. "I see," Daren says, content with your answer. <<else>> <<set $teammorale -= 1>> <<set $teamdiscipline -= 1>> Daren says nothing, but it's clear from their faces that they don't believe you. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "askrecruits">>

<<nobr>><<if $charisma >= 25>> <<set $teamdiscipline -= 3>> "She was also horrible towards me," you add. "Practically abusive. I wasn't going to get killed for her." <br><br> Reluctantly, the others nod. "I suppose that makes sense," Justyn says slowly. <<else>> <<set $teamdiscipline -= 5>> <<set $teammorale -= 1>> "Isn't that what you're doing now?" Justyn asks then. "Isn't that what it means to be a Shepherd—to risk our lives for strangers with little thanks?" <br><br> "The Shepherds are paid very well, though," you answer. <br><br> They look at each other, clearly thrown off by your reply. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "askrecruits">>

Justyn looks like he wants to throw up. "Sorry, <<c rank>>," he blurts. "We, ah... during that unfortunate incident with Quartermaster Acquell, we conducted ourselves unprofessionally. We truly didn't hear her over all the noise in the refectory, but that's not much of an excuse. It won't happen again. Scout's honor." You regard him narrowly. <<nobr>><<if $cunning >= 25>> He looks like he'd say anything to get out of trouble. <<else>> He looks like he's telling the truth. <</if>><</nobr>> <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I ever hear that you weren't listening to your superiors again, I'll make you eat your words."</div>' 'shery_response1'>><<setcompassionate -3>><<set $teamdiscipline += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I ever hear you were giving Quartermaster Acquell trouble again, I'll make you regret it."</div>' 'shery_response2'>><<setcompassionate -3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Relax. I'm not going to eat you."</div>' 'shery_response3'>><<set $teammorale += 1>><<set $teamdiscipline -= 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I understand mistakes happen. Just don't do it again."</div>' 'shery_response4'>><<set $teammorale += 1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"Yes, Captain," Justyn says, his eyes straight ahead. After a moment, he nudges Cybele, who blurts, "Yes, Cap'n. Got it, Cap'n." <<include "firsttalkrecruits">>

<<nobr>> <<if ($sheryromance is true) or ($sheryromanceflag >= 5)>> <<set $teammorale -= 1>> <<else>> <<set $teamdiscipline += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> "Yes, Captain," Justyn says, his eyes straight ahead. After a moment, he nudges Cybele, who adds sullenly, "Yes, Cap'n." <<nobr>><<if ($sheryromance is true) or ($sheryromanceflag >= 5)>> She mumbles something too quiet for you to hear; if you weren't imagining it, you'd almost think she said something about you and Shery "canoodling." <br><br> But she definitely didn't say that. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "firsttalkrecruits">>

He relaxes marginally. "Thank you, Captain." <<include "firsttalkrecruits">>

Your question is met with blank silence, except for Daren, who raises his chin and says with a hint of pride: "My combat experience and skills exceed that of the average recruit, Captain. I am skilled in several weapon forms, including the javelin, the battle-axe, and the sword." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Good. And the rest of you?"</div>' 'deserve_response1'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Think back to his dossier. "Don't get big-headed, recruit. Your grades in the other areas are abysmal."</div>' 'deserve_response2'>><<set $teammorale -= 1>><<set $teamdiscipline += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"And what are your weaknesses?"</div>' 'deserve_response3'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

The others mumble their strengths and weaknesses. Ysa believes she was selected for her promise in using ice-magic, but knows she's weak in hand-to-hand combat. Cybele is adept in stealth and riding, but is atrocious with diplomacy and tactics. Justyn believes he was chosen for his skills in Enchanting magic—he was a traveling bard, after all, and has developed a silver tongue—but knows he is weak in combat and matters of strength. <<include "firsttalkrecruits">>

His mouth clamps shut, and Cybele titters. Then she clams up when you look at her. "And the rest of you?" The others mumble their strengths and weaknesses. Ysa believes she was selected for her promise in using ice-magic, but knows she's weak in hand-to-hand combat. Cybele is adept in stealth and riding, but is atrocious with diplomacy and tactics. Justyn believes he was chosen for his skills in Enchanting magic—he was a traveling bard, after all, and has developed a silver tongue—but knows he is weak in combat and matters of strength. <<include "firsttalkrecruits">>

Daren pauses; for a dangerous moment you think he's going to say he's not weak at anything. Then he says, grudgingly: "I'm inexperienced in matters of magic, Captain. Arcana, demon-hunting, and et cetera." Then he adds, almost against his own will: "I believe my position is not a unique one. Considering the state of the Autarchy and Diminished." You wave him into silence. "And the rest of you?" The others mumble their strengths and weaknesses. Ysa believes she was selected for her promise in using ice-magic, but knows she's weak in hand-to-hand combat. Cybele is adept in stealth and riding, but is atrocious with diplomacy and tactics. Justyn believes he was chosen for his skills in Enchanting magic—he was a traveling bard, after all, and has developed a silver tongue—but knows he is weak in combat and matters of strength. <<include "firsttalkrecruits">>

<<nobr>><<if ($aro is true) or ($aroace is true)>> <<include "askfriendship">> <<else>> <<include "askaboutromances">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<friendshipcalc>><<if $highestfriendship is "blade">> "I heard you're pretty good pals with the Commander," she says. "Is it true that he kills the recruits that displease him, and uses their blood in his soap, and that's why his skin looks so good?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"..."</div>' 'autogenerated_67602'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You hear yourself, right? You hear how ridiculous that sounds?"</div>' 'autogenerated_67603'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"That's supposed to be a secret!"</div>' 'autogenerated_67604'>><<set $teamdiscipline += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"No. He acts fearsome, but he's really soft-hearted if you look closely."</div>' 'autogenerated_67605'>><<setblade +3>><<set $teamdiscipline -= 1>><<set $teammorale += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Yes, that's true, and if you don't behave, you'll be next!"</div>' 'autogenerated_67606'>><<set $teamdiscipline += 1>><<set $teammorale -=1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"He <i>does</i> have great skin, doesn't he?"</div>' 'autogenerated_67607'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <<elseif $highestfriendship is "trouble">> "I heard you're pretty good pals with the Vice-Commander," she says. "Is it true that he never takes off his gloves because he has guns for hands?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"..."</div>' 'autogenerated_67608'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Why don't you ask him the next time you see him? I'm sure he'll love to answer that."</div>' 'autogenerated_67609'>><<settrouble +3>><<setcunning +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"That's supposed to be a secret!"</div>' 'autogenerated_67610'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"He just wears them because they look good."</div>' 'autogenerated_67611'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"No. It's just a personal choice, and not one you should spend any time worrying about."</div>' 'autogenerated_67612'>><<set $teamdiscipline += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Yes, and he uses them on recruits who displease his friends."</div>' 'autogenerated_67613'>><<set $teamdiscipline += 1>><<set $teammorale -= 1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <<elseif $highestfriendship is "shery">> "I heard you're pretty good friends with the Quartermaster," she says. "Is it true that she's really the Vice-Commander's cousin, and that's how she got this job?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Quartermaster Acquell got her job on sheer talent and hard work. She's not related to anybody, and it's insulting that you would imply that."</div>' 'autogenerated_67614'>><<set $teamdiscipline += 1>><<setshery +10>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"They're not cousins. They're fraternal twins."</div>' 'autogenerated_67615'>><<setcunning +1>><<settrouble +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I guess that would sort of make sense..."</div>' 'autogenerated_67616'>><<set $teamdiscipline -= 1>><<setshery -5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Not all Norms are related to each other, Cybele."</div>' 'autogenerated_67617'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <<elseif $highestfriendship is "tallys">> "I heard you're pretty good friends with Captain Ironwood," she says. "Is it true that she's actually a thousand years old?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $heritage is "Elf">><<link '<div class="heritage-item">"Cybele... you're an Elf. Does she look that old to you?"</div>' 'autogenerated_67618'>><<setintelligence +1>><<settallys +1>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I honestly do not know."</div>' 'autogenerated_67619'>><<settallys -3>><</link>> <<if $tallystime gte 1 <div class="choice-item">"No, of course she isn't! She's closer to three hundred."</div>>><<link '~ settallys +3' 'autogenerated_67620'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Yes, she's <i>ancient</i>. And very crabby. We let her at the new recruits when they're being unruly so she can get tired enough for her nap."</div>' 'autogenerated_67621'>><<set $teamdiscipline += 1>><<settallys -5>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <<elseif $highestfriendship is "riel">> "I heard you're pretty good friends with that merchant leader, Riel," she says. "Is it true that he's got psychic powers? I heard he could tell that Bez nicked something from the pantry just by looking at her, and they'd never spoken before." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"No, he's just very good at reading people. <i>Very</i> good."</div>' 'autogenerated_67622'>><<setriel +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Yes, that's right. We keep him around so he can tell us when the recruits are being unruly."</div>' 'autogenerated_67623'>><<setriel +3>><<setcunning +3>><<set $teamdiscipline += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"He's a Norm. Use your head. How could he be psychic?"</div>' 'autogenerated_67624'>><<setriel -3>><<set $teamdiscipline += 1>><<set $teammorale -= 1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <<elseif $highestfriendship is "chase">> "I heard you're pretty good friends with the thief-lord, Chase," she says. "Is it true that he has—what was it, see-through vision?—and he can see straight through someone's clothes, and that's why he's so good at nicking things?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Are you asking me... if... Chase can see through clothes?"</div>' 'autogenerated_67625'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I suppose that tracks. He's perverted enough for it."</div>' 'autogenerated_67626'>><<setchase +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Oh, yes, but he only activates the ability seldomly. He can even see straight into your mind, into your thoughts! So don't do anything I wouldn't do around him..."</div>' 'autogenerated_67627'>><<setchase +3>><<set $teamdiscipline +=1>><<setcunning +3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <<else>> [SORRY, THIS SECTION IS INCOMPLETE! If you have any suggestions for a stupid rumor about a character, send them to me in the secret alpha channel on Discord!] <<include "askrecruits">> <</if>>

Cybele blushes as Justyn snickers. "Eh…. never mind." <<include 'askrecruits'>>

Cybele nudges Justyn sharply. "I told you!" <<include 'askrecruits'>>

Cybele's eyes go wide, and Justyn laughs, a tad nervously. "<<c she>>'s joking," he says, his voice pitched high. "A great joke, Captain! How funny…" <<include 'askrecruits'>>

Cybele looks disappointed. "Oh. That's… something, I suppose." <<include 'askrecruits'>>

Cybele's eyes go wide, and Justyn laughs, a tad nervously. "<<c she>><<nobr>><<if $plural is true>>'s<<else>>'re<</if>><</nobr>> joking," he says. "A wonderful joke, Captain! Very amusing…" <<include 'askrecruits'>>

Cybele looks away, sullen. "Dunno," she mutters, shrugging. "Just thought I'd ask." <<include 'askrecruits'>>

She blinks. "Eh… I guess not." Justyn snickers. <<include 'askrecruits'>>

Cybele whistles. "Damn." <<include 'askrecruits'>>

Cybele blinks. "Oh." <<include 'askrecruits'>>

Cybele's eyes go wide, and she looks briefly ashamed. "Yes, Cap'n." <<include 'askrecruits'>>

Cybele's mouth drops. "<i>Really</i>?" She looks wondering. "I suppose that makes sense. They're both blond…" "But they're so <i>different</i>," Justyn says, aghast. "That's because they're twins," you answer gravely. "They had to differentiate themselves somehow…" He whistles. "Damn!" <<include 'askrecruits'>>

Cybele nudges Justyn. "I told you!" <<include 'askrecruits'>>

"Could have convinced me otherwise," she mutters, and Justyn snickers. <<include 'askrecruits'>>

You move on without deigning to answer such a stupid question. <<include 'askrecruits'>>

Cybele nods confidently. "I will." <<include 'askrecruits'>>

Cybele's eyes go wide, and Justyn laughs, a tad nervously. "<<c she>>'s joking," he says, his voice pitched high. "A great joke, Captain! How funny…" <<include 'askrecruits'>>

"That's true, they do look good," Justyn affirms. Daren snorts. "Why don't you go buy yourself a pair, then?" "Joke's on you. I already did." <<include 'askrecruits'>>

"Yes, Cap'n," she mumbles. <<include 'askrecruits'>>

Cybele's eyes go wide, and Justyn laughs, a tad nervously. "<<c she>>'s joking," he says, his voice pitched high. "A great joke, Captain! How funny…" <<include 'askrecruits'>>

You move on without deigning to answer such a stupid question. <<include 'askrecruits'>>

Cybele laughs nervously. "O-of course," she says. "It's all a joke. Right." <<include 'askrecruits'>>

Cybele's eyes go wide, and Justyn laughs, a tad nervously. "<<c she>>'s joking," he says, his voice pitched high. "A great joke, Captain! How funny…" <<include 'askrecruits'>>

The others look skeptical. "If you say so," Cybele says with a shrug. "I've never even seen him crack so much as a smile." <<include 'askrecruits'>>

Cybele's eyes go wide, and Justyn laughs, a tad nervously. "<<c she>>'s joking," he says, his voice pitched high. "A great joke, Captain! How funny…" <<include 'askrecruits'>>

But you don't answer the question, and they certainly notice. Cybele nods as if you've confirmed some long-held suspicion. <<include 'askrecruits'>>

<<romancecalc>> <<set $rumorromance to "">> <<if $highestromance is "blade">> <<set $rumorromance to "the Commander">> <<elseif $highestromance is "trouble">> <<set $rumorromance to "the Vice-Commander">> <<elseif ($highestromance is "tallys") or ($tallyssex is true)>> <<set $rumorromance to "Captain Ironwood">> <<elseif $highestromance is "shery">> <<set $rumorromance to "Quartermaster Acquell">> <<elseif $highestromance is "riel">> <<set $rumorromance to "that merchant leader, Master Syndran">> <<elseif $highestromance is "chase">> <<set $rumorromance to "the thief-lord of Haven">> <<elseif $highestromance is "red">> <<set $rumorromance to "the Archmage from Capra, the lanky man with red hair">> <<elseif $highestromance is "ayla">> <<set $rumorromance to "the Wind-Mage, that Aescar woman">> <<elseif $highestromance is "briony">> <<set $rumorromance to "that fierce gladiator, the Stormbreaker">> <<elseif $highestromance is "lavinet">> <<set $rumorromance to "that noble woman, Lady Naveen">> <<elseif ($highestromance is "prihine") and ($prihinesafe is true)>> <<set $rumorromance to "that married noble lady, ol' Minister Ushala's woman">> <<else>> <<set $rumorromance to "some secret lover in the city—someone involved in the Sun Court even">> <</if>> She looks around furtively and lowers her voice before asking. "Is it true that you're—eh—canoodling with $rumorromance?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Wink and tap your nose. "A gentle$woman never kisses and tells."</div>' 'autogenerated_67628'>><<setcunning +3>><<set $teamdiscipline += 1>><<set $teammorale += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Look away and blush. "W-what? Who—I never—no, we're—where did you hear that?!"</div>' 'autogenerated_67629'>><<setcunning -1>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>> <<if $rumorromance is not "some secret lover in the city—someone involved in the Sun Court even">><<link '<div class="choice-item">"We're... getting there. Hopefully. But let's keep that between us."</div>' 'autogenerated_67630'>><<setcourage +1>><<set $teammorale += 1>><</link>><</if>> <<if $rumorromance is not "some secret lover in the city—someone involved in the Sun Court even">><<link '<div class="choice-item">"No. We're just friends."</div>' 'autogenerated_67631'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I have no idea what you're talking about."</div>' 'autogenerated_67632'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'd worry more about your performance and less about stupid gossip, recruit."</div>' 'autogenerated_67633'>><<set $teamdiscipline += 1>><<setcompassionate -1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Cybele whistles while Justyn gapes. "Damn!" <<include 'askrecruits'>>

Cybele grins at you, sly as a fox, while Justyn snickers. "Don't worry, Cap'n, I'll keep your secret." "That's not—" You sigh. "Forget it." <<include 'askrecruits'>>

Cybele winks. "Gotcha, Cap'n, mum's the word." <<include 'askrecruits'>>

She has the gall to look disappointed. "Oh. Shame." <<include 'askrecruits'>>

She taps her nose slyly. "Got it, Cap'n, mum's the word." "That's not…" You sigh. "Never mind." <<include 'askrecruits'>>

She huffs. "Aye aye, Cap'n." But to Justyn she says under her breath, "That's a yes." <<include 'askrecruits'>>

You contemplate your ragtag band of recruits. You have no idea what missions or hardships await them as they grow into themselves as officers and rise through the ranks. Do you want to play on their strengths or improve their weaknesses? <<include "timetotrain1">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Look at their dossiers again.</div>' 'dossier'>><<set $checkdossier to true>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Train them in ranged combat.</div>' 'autogenerated_67634'>><<set $darenscoreranged += 10>><<set $ysascoreranged += 10>><<set $justynscoreranged += 10>><<set $cybelescoreranged += 10>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Train them in melee combat.</div>' 'autogenerated_67635'>><<set $darenscoremelee += 10>><<set $ysascoremelee += 10>><<set $justynscoremelee += 10>><<set $cybelescoremelee += 10>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Train them in riding.</div>' 'autogenerated_67636'>><<set $darenscoreriding += 10>><<set $ysascoreriding += 10>><<set $justynscoreriding += 10>><<set $cybelescoreriding += 10>><<setcourage +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Train them in arcana.</div>' 'autogenerated_67637'>><<set $darenscorearcana += 10>><<set $ysascorearcana += 10>><<set $justynscorearcana += 10>><<set $cybelescorearcana += 10>><<setmagic +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Train them in tactics.</div>' 'autogenerated_67638'>><<set $darenscoretactics += 10>><<set $ysascoretactics += 10>><<set $justynscoretactics += 10>><<set $cybelescoretactics += 10>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Train them in diplomacy.</div>' 'autogenerated_67639'>><<set $darenscorediplomacy += 10>><<set $ysascorediplomacy += 10>><<set $justynscorediplomacy += 10>><<set $cybelescorediplomacy += 10>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Train them in offense.</div>' 'autogenerated_67640'>><<setcourage +1>><<set $darenscoreoffense += 10>><<set $ysascoreoffense += 10>><<set $justynscoreoffense += 10>><<set $cybelescoreoffense += 10>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Train them in defense.</div>' 'autogenerated_67641'>><<setcunning +1>><<set $darenscoredefense += 10>><<set $ysascoredefense += 10>><<set $justynscoredefense += 10>><<set $cybelescoredefense += 10>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Train them in stealth.</div>' 'autogenerated_67642'>><<setcunning +3>><<set $darenscorestealth += 10>><<set $ysascorestealth += 10>><<set $justynscoredefense += 10>><<set $cybelescoredefense += 10>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $mainweapon is "bow">> <<setbow +3>> <<setstrength +1>> <</if>> <<if $mainweapon is "gun">> <<setgun +3>> <<setstrength +1>> <</if>><</nobr>> You push your recruits hard to develop their skills at ranged combat: being able to fight effectively from a distance will keep them more out of harm's way. <<nobr>><<if $troublehate is false>> Trouble and Tallys join you with their own squads, and they seem to take genuine pleasure in teaching your fledglings how to shoot. <<elseif ($troublehate is true) and ($tallys gte 50)>> Tallys joins you with her own squad, and she seems to take genuine pleasure in teaching your fledglings how to shoot. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'endtraining'>>

<<nobr>><<if $mainweapon is "sword">> <<setsword +3>> <<setstrength +1>> <</if>> <<if $mainweapon is "dagger">> <<setdagger +3>> <<setstrength +1>> <</if>><</nobr>> You push your recruits hard to develop their skills in close-range combat: being able to fight effectively at close quarters means they can protect themselves if an enemy gets too close. <<nobr>><<if ($brionyjoin is true) and ($blade gte 60) and ($briony gte 45)>> Briony and Blade join with their own squads, teaching your fledglings how to pack a punch. <<elseif $blade gte 60>> Blade joins you with his own squad, teaching your fledglings how to pack a punch. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'endtraining'>>

You take your recruits to the Sheperd stables and cattery, where you teach them how to ride a horse and an ahfuri with the help of the stablehands. <<nobr>><<if ($lavinetjoin is true) and ($lavinet gte 45)>> Lavinet joins in with pleasure, teachng the recruits to improve their seat and posture and how to fight without unhorsing themselves. <<elseif $tallys gte 50>> Tallys joins in, harshly reprimanding any recruit who doesn't treat the animals well enough to her tastes. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'endtraining'>>

You teach your recruits about magic, the supernatural, Diminished powers, and Endarkened, so that they'll be better-equipped to face such issues in the field. You both instruct them in the practical use of their powers as well as the book-learning required to be effective Shepherds and demon-hunters. <<nobr>><<if ($redjoin is true) and ($red gte 50) and ($brionyjoin is true) and ($briony gte 50)>> Briony and Red join you, Red giving his instructions in the esoterica and academic uses of your powers, with Briony supplementing practical and real-life applications. He tries to assign homework, but she stops him—to the relief of your recruits. <<elseif ($redjoin is true) and ($red gte 50)>> Red joins you, enthusiastically passing out huge volumes of texts and even assigning homework—to the groans of your recruits. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'endtraining'>>

You teach your recruits about military tactics, battle strategies, and calculated thinking, which should help them better conduct themselves in the field and outsmart their enemies through coordination and maneuvers. <<nobr>><<if ($rieljoin is true) and ($riel gte 50)>> Riel joins you, lending his sharp mind and extensive historical knowledge to the creation of your team's special formations and strategies. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'endtraining'>>

You teach your recruits the esesntials on speaking persuasively and politely: skills that will help them in situations where they need to gather information—sometimes from unwilling locals—or form relations that will benefit the Shepherds. <<nobr>><<if ($lavinetjoin is true) and ($lavinet gte 45) and ($rieljoin is true) and ($riel gte 50)>> Riel and Lavinet join you, Riel giving his pointers on intimidation, negotation, and body language reading, while Lavinet happily gives tips on charm, good manners, and political astuteness. <<elseif ($rieljoin is true) and ($riel gte 50)>> Riel joins you, giving his pointers on intimidation, negotiation, body language reading, and conducting a conversation to one's favor. He even passes out books to assign as homework. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'endtraining'>>

You teach your recruits the basics in dealing as much damage to their enemies as possible with a flurry of forward attacks, blows, and strikes. <<nobr>><<if ($trouble gte 50) and ($blade gte 65)>> Blade and Trouble join you, showing your fledglings how to make devastating offensive attacks. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'endtraining'>>

You teach your recruits the basics in defending themselves, blocking, guarding, parrying, and shielding—which should help keep them safe. <<nobr>><<if ($aylajoin is true) and ($ayla gte 55)>> Ayla joins you, showing how she keeps her enemies at bay with her wind magic and quarterstaff and teaching your fledglings how to deflect any attack. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'endtraining'>>

You teach your recruits how to move and attack stealthily, muffling their footfalls and training them to tread lightly and without rustling their clothes. <<nobr>><<if ($chasejoin is true) and ($chase gte 50)>> Chase joins in, lending his professional expertise and teaching your fledgelings how to ambush, drop down on, and even kill their opponents without ever making a sound. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'endtraining'>>

The training finally ends for the day, to the groans and sobs of relief of your recruits. <<include "trainingover">>

You're in the middle of running laps with your recruits in the exercise field when Cybele abruptly sits down in the dirt. "I can't do it," she pants. "Go on without me!" You glance at the others. Daren hasn't even broken a sweat and looks annoyed by the interruption; Ysa is breathing hard, but looks well enough to go on; Justyn puts his hands on his knees and wipes his mouth, but he doesn't look like he's going to pass out. Neither, on that matter, does Cybele. And Daren already helpfully informed you that she woke up late, was late to breakfast, ate too long, and cursed at him when he told her not to keep you waiting—the little tattletale. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Cybele, what's wrong?"</div>' 'cybelelol'>><<set $teammorale += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Get up, Cybele."</div>' 'cybelelol'>><<set $teamdiscipline += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Are you alright?"</div>' 'cybelelol'>><<set $teammorale += 1>><<set $teamdiscipline -= 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you dragging your feet is becoming a pattern."</div>' 'cybelelol'>><<set $teamdiscipline += 1>><<set $teammorale -= 1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"Can't—run anymore—" she gasps, clutching her side theatrically. "I'll die if you make me keep running." <<nobr>><<if $specialization is "healer">> <br><br> You do a quick medical check on her: she's fine, just… dramatic. <</if>><</nobr>> You sigh. You still have several more laps to go, and this is really the bare minimum for the physical standard a Shepherd should reach if they want to protect themselves from Endarkened—or worse. If you stop now, your team may never attain the discipline or skill needed to keep them alive and fit in the field, or even competent; but if you push them too hard, they may resent you. Or there could be another solution. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Let's take a break. All of us. No one gets left behind."</div>' 'autogenerated_67643'>><<set $teammorale += 2>><<set $teamdiscipline -= 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You all need to wait for Cybele to recover. We're only as strong as our weakest link."</div>' 'autogenerated_67644'>><<set $teammorale += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Get up, Cybele. Now. Endarkened don't wait for you to catch your breath."</div>' 'autogenerated_67645'>><<set $teamdiscipline += 2>><<set $teammorale -= 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"The rest of you, keep going. The mission objective can be more important than waiting for a teammate, so you split up and run ahead."</div>' 'autogenerated_67646'>><<set $teamdiscipline += 3>><<set $teammorale -= 3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Justyn heaves a groan of relief and collapses in the dirt. The others follow suit, though Daren rolls his eyes and stands, tapping his foot impatiently. Cybele throws him a look of loathing. <<include 'trainwithTrouble'>>

Cybele frowns at your implication, but the others obey and wait for her to recover. They don't start running again until she's ready to run with them. <<include 'trainwithTrouble'>>

"Out in the field, your ability to keep going can mean life or death," you tell her. <<nobr>><<if ($teamdiscipline >= 5) and ($teamdiscipline > $teammorale)>> Cybele heaves a sigh, but she heaves herself to her feet and, after a moment, resumes running. The others run with her. <<else>> For a moment, Cybele sits stubbornly still, and you think you might have to toss out some disciplinary action. But after a moment, Justyn nudges her with his foot, and she heaves a sigh and gets up. She sends a glare at you, though. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'trainwithTrouble'>>

The others nod and take off again, Daren taking a rapid lead and quickly disappearing into the distance while Justyn and Ysa strive. Cybele groans. "You can go on, too, Captain. I'll catch up." You fold your arms. "I'll wait." Under your watchful eye, she soon recovers and heaves herself to her feet with a groan. <<include 'trainwithTrouble'>>

<<page_break "..." "trainingwithtrouble">>

Later, you see Trouble's squad appear at the end of the field while Trouble bawls orders at them. At his yell, they suddenly break off and scatter with panicked expressions on their faces. You watch as Trouble approaches, holding what looks like a shotgun over his shoulder. <<nobr>><<if $troublehate is false>> His face splits into a wide grin when he sees you, and he flicks you a casual salute. "<<c firstname>>! Training your recruits, too?" <<else>> He glances at you, looking somewhat menacing. "Training your recruits?" <</if>><</nobr>> You nod. "What's toward?" His grin turns jackal-like. "Training exercise. Conditioning their stealth. I give them a minute to hide, and then I start huntin'." At your skeptical look, he hefts his shotgun and winks at your wide-eyed recruits. "Don't worry, kiddos. Rubber bullets. Only stings a bit." After a few moments of discussion, you decide that your squad should join Trouble's, and they take off into field, all but Daren looking terrified. Trouble sets the time on his timepiece, and you stand rehashing your training tactics. "How's it going?" he asks, indicating the direction your recruits fled in with his chin. "They giving you any trouble?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Things are going great. Why wouldn't they, with me at the helm?"</div>' 'autogenerated_67647'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Things are going well. I think they're starting to learn how to be a team."</div>' 'autogenerated_67648'>><<set $teammorale += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I don't know. It's hard to know if I'm doing anything right. I can't tell if they respect me."</div>' 'autogenerated_67649'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"They're a mess."</div>' 'autogenerated_67650'>><<set $teammorale -= 1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Trouble laughs slightly. "Confident, aren't you? Well, I s'ppose you're right—you are the <i>Hero of Haven</i>, and all." You wave the title away. "Oh, please." <<include 'troublestealthy'>>

Trouble nods seriously. "That's good. Teamwork is important: it'll help them stay alive. I don't know how many times you or Blade or one of the others has saved my hide." He smirks suddenly. "Or vice-versa." <<include 'troublestealthy'>>

<<nobr>><<if $troublehate is false>> Trouble catches sight of your doubtful expression and claps your shoulder encouragingly. "Don't worry," he says, seemingly at a loss of what to say. "You'll, ah—figure it out." <<else>> "Huh," Trouble says unhelpfully. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'troublestealthy'>>

Trouble whistles. "That bad, huh? Damn." <<include 'troublestealthy'>>

Suddenly he raises his shotgun; you spy a flicker of movement to your left. A recruit in full plate-mail is attempting to sprint like the dickens towards a copse of trees. "OI! IF YOU'RE GOING TO RUN, TAKE OFF YOUR KNEECAPS SO I CAN'T HEAR YOU, DUMBASS!" Trouble fires his shotgun as if it's a sniper rifle, and the recruit goes down in a crash of armor. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Is this really helping them?"</div>' 'autogenerated_67651'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You're enjoying this way too much, you devil."</div>' 'autogenerated_67652'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Can I have a turn?"</div>' 'autogenerated_67653'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"<<c god>>, Trouble."</div>' 'autogenerated_67654'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"You kidding?" He scoffs. "They walk so quiet now. They're gonna be the stealthiest officers in the whole compound." <<include 'spotjustyn'>>

He grins, rogueish. "Am I? It's the only way I know how to teach." <<include 'spotjustyn'>>

He passes the shotgun to you with a wink. "Just don't go crazy. I say it's rubber to scare them, but it's actually foam. They haven't figured it out yet." <<include 'spotjustyn'>>

He grins. "What? This is part of their special regimen." <<include 'spotjustyn'>>

You walk for a bit more, into the copse of trees where many of the recruits are likely hiding. Suddenly Trouble nudges you and gestures with his chin. "Spotted a couple. Look there—through those branches. It's one of yours. Is—is he <i>chatting up</i> one of mine?" You look: it's true. Justyn is leaning against a tree, his arm propped up over one of Trouble's recruits, a blushing young woman with cherubic blonde curls. You roll your eyes. You've heard rumors that your former-bard recruit is a dogged "lady's man," but this is the first time you've seen this proclivity in action. Trouble shakes his head. "Can't believe he's <i>flirting</i>. He'd better not be doing that during real missions." Suddenly, he hefts his gun. "Shall I shoot him?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Nod. "Do it."</div>' 'autogenerated_67655'>><<set $teammorale -= 2>><<set $teamdiscipline += 2>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Shake your head and sigh. "Lecturing is probably the more responsible thing."</div>' 'autogenerated_67656'>><<set $teamdiscipline += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Smile. "Leave him alone. Maybe this is a true love match. We don't want to get in the way of that."</div>' 'autogenerated_67657'>><<set $teamdiscipline -= 5>><<set $teammorale += 1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Trouble takes aim and fires with grim pleasure. Justyn yelps and grabs his behind with both hands. Then you storm out of the underbrush and give him an earful; the girl he's with freezes like a doe in the middle of a road, and Justyn turns beet-red. You and Trouble give him such a tongue-lashing for getting distracted during a mission that the other girl even tears up. Justyn dances in place in pain and scarcely seems to hear you. <<nobr>><<if $troublehate is false>> <br><br> "And if I catch you making a headache for <<c rank>> <<c surname>> again, I'll shoot your balls off," Trouble threatens. <br><br> Justyn hears that, at least. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'recruittrain2'>>

You march through the underbrush and start giving Justyn an earful; he falls off the tree trunk and scrambles away from you in fear. Then you and Trouble both give him such a tongue-lashing for getting distracted during a protocol that the girl he was talking to tears up. It's not pretty, but it will teach him to never put flirting over work ever again. <<nobr>><<if $troublehate is false>> <br><br> "And if I catch you making a headache for <<c rank>> <<c surname>> again, I'll shoot your balls off," Trouble threatens. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'recruittrain2'>>

Trouble rolls his eyes. "He's made 'true love matches' all over the damn compound," he mutters. "But he's your recruit, so fine. I'm getting her, though." <<include 'recruittrain25'>>

<<page_break "<i>Bam!</i>" "recruittrain2">>

You spend the rest of the session going through drills with your squad alongside Trouble's. Finally he turns to you, smelling lightly of gunmetal and sweat. "We got time for another exercise," he says. "You want to pick it?" <<include "timetotrain2">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Look at your recruits' dossiers.</div>' 'dossier'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Train them in ranged combat.</div>' 'autogenerated_67658'>><<set $darenscoreranged += 10>><<set $ysascoreranged += 10>><<set $justynscoreranged += 10>><<set $cybelescoreranged += 10>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Train them in melee combat.</div>' 'autogenerated_67659'>><<set $darenscoremelee += 10>><<set $ysascoremelee += 10>><<set $justynscoremelee += 10>><<set $cybelescoremelee += 10>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Train them in riding.</div>' 'autogenerated_67660'>><<set $darenscoreriding += 10>><<set $ysascoreriding += 10>><<set $justynscoreriding += 10>><<set $cybelescoreriding += 10>><<setcourage +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Train them in arcana.</div>' 'autogenerated_67661'>><<set $darenscorearcana += 10>><<set $ysascorearcana += 10>><<set $justynscorearcana += 10>><<set $cybelescorearcana += 10>><<setmagic +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Train them in tactics.</div>' 'autogenerated_67662'>><<set $darenscoretactics += 10>><<set $ysascoretactics += 10>><<set $justynscoretactics += 10>><<set $cybelescoretactics += 10>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Train them in diplomacy.</div>' 'autogenerated_67663'>><<set $darenscorediplomacy += 10>><<set $ysascorediplomacy += 10>><<set $justynscorediplomacy += 10>><<set $cybelescorediplomacy += 10>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Train them in offense.</div>' 'autogenerated_67664'>><<setcourage +1>><<set $darenscoreoffense += 10>><<set $ysascoreoffense += 10>><<set $justynscoreoffense += 10>><<set $cybelescoreoffense += 10>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Train them in defense.</div>' 'autogenerated_67665'>><<setcunning +1>><<set $darenscoredefense += 10>><<set $ysascoredefense += 10>><<set $justynscoredefense += 10>><<set $cybelescoredefense += 10>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Train them in stealth.</div>' 'autogenerated_67666'>><<setcunning +3>><<set $darenscorestealth += 10>><<set $ysascorestealth += 10>><<set $justynscoredefense += 10>><<set $cybelescoredefense += 10>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $mainweapon is "bow">> <<setbow +3>> <<setstrength +1>> <<elseif $mainweapon is "gun">> <<setgun +3>> <<setstrength +1>> <</if>><</nobr>> You push your recruits hard to develop their skills at ranged combat: being able to fight effectively from a distance will keep them more out of harm's way. <<include 'recruitsmission1'>>

<<nobr>><<if $mainweapon is "sword">> <<setsword +3>> <<setstrength +1>> <<elseif $mainweapon is "dagger">> <<setdagger +3>> <<setstrength +1>> <</if>><</nobr>> You push your recruits hard to develop their skills in close-range combat: being able to fight effectively at close quarters means they can protect themselves if an enemy gets too close. <<include 'recruitsmission1'>>

You take your recruits to the Sheperd stables and cattery, where you teach them how to ride a horse and an ahfuri with the help of the stablehands. <<include 'recruitsmission1'>>

You teach your recruits the basics in dealing as much damage to their enemies as possible with a flurry of forward attacks, blows, and strikes. <<include 'recruitsmission1'>>

You teach your recruits the basics in defending themselves, blocking, guarding, parrying, and shielding—which should help keep them safe. <<include 'recruitsmission1'>>

You teach your recruits how to move and attack stealthily, muffling their footfalls and training them to tread lightly and without rustling their clothes. <<include 'recruitsmission1'>>

<<nobr>><<set $recruitsmission to "scholar">><</nobr>> Later, <<nobr>><<if $cainejoin is true>> Caine approaches you with a little slip: <<else>> another recruit approaches you with a little slip: <</if>><</nobr>> your recruits are being sent on their first mission together as a team! You scan the form. It's an extremely low-level task, safe enough that you don't need to accompany them: it's really more of a training exercise than anything, though the orders themselves are real. A scholar in nearby Ambryn is asking to come to Haven and potentially donate a valuable artifact that may help the Order fight Endarkened. He insists on coming in person, and you won't know if it will be worth it until evaluators can see the artifact and examine it for themselves. What's more, he requires protection on the road from bandits and potentially demons. Your team will have to go there and back, protecting him and the artifact all the way. It should take a few weeks: they'll probably have to go on horses, to match the pace of the elderly scholar, and Riel notes that he seems cantankerous, too—so they'll have to be careful to not anger him and end the whole mission prematurely. "What is it, Captain?" Daren asks, bright-eyed and alert. You explain, and Trouble runs a hand through his hair. "Sounds like you'll have to put one of them in charge, if you want the mission to go smooth." He glances at your recruits, who are all eying each other suspiciously. "Good luck." <<include "missionleader1">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $checkdossier is false>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Check their dossiers again.</div>' 'dossier'>><<set $checkdossier to true>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Daren, you're in charge."</div>' 'autogenerated_67667'>><<set $inchargescholar to "daren">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Ysa, you're in charge."</div>' 'autogenerated_67668'>><<set $inchargescholar to "ysa">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Cybele, you're in charge."</div>' 'autogenerated_67669'>><<set $inchargescholar to "cybele">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Justyn, you're in charge."</div>' 'autogenerated_67670'>><<set $inchargescholar to "justyn">><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if ($darenscoreriding >= 80) and ($darenscorediplomacy >= 75)>> <<set $recruitsmission to "scholarsuccess">> <<else>> <<set $recruitsmission to "scholarfail">> <</if>><</nobr>> Daren's expression doesn't change, but he salutes you formally, even reverently. "Understood, Captain," he says, totally serious—and probably a little smug, judging by Cybele's eyeroll. "I won't let us fail." <<include 'trainingend'>>

<<nobr>><<if ($ysascoreriding >= 80) and ($ysascorediplomacy >= 75)>> <<set $recruitsmission to "scholarsuccess">> <<else>> <<set $recruitsmission to "scholarfail">> <</if>><</nobr>> Ysa blinks slowly, once, then twice, before she salutes you sharply. "Aye, Captain!" She says it fiercely, like it's an oath. <<include 'trainingend'>>

<<nobr>><<if ($cybelescoreriding >= 80) and ($cybelescorediplomacy >= 75)>> <<set $recruitsmission to "scholarsuccess">> <<else>> <<set $recruitsmission to "scholarfail">> <</if>><</nobr>> She looks surprised. "Who, me?" When Ysa nudges her, she straightens. "Uh, thanks, Cap'n. I, er—I'll do my best." <<include 'trainingend'>>

<<nobr>><<if ($justynscoreriding >= 80) and ($justynscorediplomacy >= 75)>> <<set $recruitsmission to "scholarsuccess">> <<else>> <<set $recruitsmission to "scholarfail">> <</if>><</nobr>> He salutes, a tad sloppily. "I won't let you down, Captain." <<include 'trainingend'>>

The day's training session ends with sighs of relief from both your squad and Trouble's. <<include "trainingover">>

<<nobr>><<set $cybelebet to false>> <<set $cybelebet2 to false>><</nobr>> This is the first day your recruits are back in the compound: they've spent the last few weeks on a mission of their own, accompanying a scholar and his arcane artifact from Ambryn to Haven. It took them far longer than it would have taken you, but at least they're all back in one piece. "How did it go?" you ask them as they trail into the training courtyard. They're presumably already rested and freshly bathed: they would have reported to the missions room with the results of their assignment first. <<nobr>><<if $recruitsmission is "scholarfail">> <<set $reputation -= 5>> <<set $teammorale -= 10>> <<set $teamdiscipline -= 5>> <<if $inchargescholar is "justyn">> Justyn looks at you miserably. "We screwed up, Captain," he mumbles. "It, uh… it didn't go well." <br><br> You turn and look at the others. Ysa looks distraught and ashamed, Daren looks absolutely livid, and even Cybele looks away from your gaze. "What happened?" <<elseif $inchargescholar is "cybele">> Cybele doesn't look at you, so it's Justyn who speak up, looking miserable. "It was a disaster, Captain. It… it did not go well." <br><br> You turn and look at the others. Ysa looks distraught and ashamed, Cybele looks like she wants to throw up, and Daren looks absolutely livid. "What happened?" <<elseif $inchargescholar is "daren">> Daren bows his head, so low that you can see the way his hair radiates out from one spot on his scalp. He does not look at you when he addresses you. "The mission was a failure, Captain. Do with us what you will." <br><br> You turn and look at the others. Ysa looks distraught and ashamed, Cybele flinches and stares at the ground, and Justyn looks as pale as if he's going to throw up. "What happened?" <<else>> Ysa's eyes are full of tears, but her back is straight as she salutes you. "I… I am sorry, Captain. We were not able… to achieve our objective." <br><br> You turn and look at the others. Cybele stares intently at the ground, Daren looks absolutely livid, and Justyn looks like he wants to throw up. "What happened?" <</if>> <br><br> "He was a shit, Captain," Cybele says then, still staring at her feet. "He talked down to us, called us names—cranky old bastard." <br><br> Daren hisses through his teeth. "Certain officers are also poor riders. The client grew impatient with us and turned around, taking the artifact back with him to Ambryn. He doesn't want anything to do with the Order anymore." <br><br> Then they all stare at their feet, looking defeated. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Wow. You literally got the easiest, most straightforward mission possible and you even bungled that?"</div>' 'autogenerated_67671'>><<set $teammorale -= 15>><<set $teamdiscipline += 5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm disappointed in your performance, but perhaps that's my fault. Maybe I haven't been training you well enough."</div>' 'autogenerated_67672'>><<set $teammorale -= 10>><<set $teamdiscipline += 10>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Well, you can't win them all. Let's try and do better next time."</div>' 'autogenerated_67673'>><<set $teammorale += 10>><<set $teamdiscipline -= 10>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Don't look so miserable. At least you stood up to him. You're Shepherds: don't let anyone disrespect you, especially not while you're wearing our uniform."</div>' 'autogenerated_67674'>><<set $teammorale += 15>><<set $teamdiscipline -= 5>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <<elseif $recruitsmission is "scholarsuccess">> <<set $reputation += 5>> <<set $teammorale += 10>> <<set $teamdiscipline += 10>> <<set $resources += 1>> <<set $defenses to true>> The team salutes smartly as they line up in front of you, clicking their heels together like veteran soldiers. <<c inchargescholar>> stares straight ahead and raps out: "The mission went off without a hitch, Captain. No troubles on the road, no injuries, and the scholar made it safely to the compound. Our people are examining his artifact now: it seems to be some sort of magical supplement to the defenses on our walls." <br><br> They continue to give you a rundown of their mission, but it's all routine: they rode to Ambryn, camping all along the way (saving the Shepherds money by not staying at inns, like the good little officers they are), retrieved the scholar, and rode back with him, with no complaints or encounters with demons. Nothing of note occurred—which is a good thing, in your line of work. It means the mission was a total success. <br><br> "The scholar's a cranky old bastard," Cybele chimes in. "But <<c inchargescholar>> charmed him… somehow. And we rode good and fast, but not so fast we hurt the horses." <br><br> Then she beams at you, and Ysa and Daren straighten their spines, and Justyn looks sheepish yet proud. They did good. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Tell them so. "Good work, everybody. You did exactly what real Shepherds are supposed to do and honored this Order. I'm proud of you."</div>' 'autogenerated_67675'>><<set $teammorale += 5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Nod curtly. "Nice work. Let's keep seeing more of that in the future."</div>' 'autogenerated_67676'>><<set $teamdiscipline += 5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Sag with relief. "Thank the stars. I was so worried one of you was going to wind up hurt... or that something terrible would happen..."</div>' 'autogenerated_67677'>><<set $teammorale -= 5>><<set $teamdiscipline += 5>><</link>> <<if $cainejoin is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Scoff. "What, do you expect me to praise you for something Caine could do?"</div>' 'autogenerated_67678'>><<set $teammorale -= 10>><<set $teamdiscipline += 10>><</link>><</if>> <<if $cainejoin is false>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Scoff. "What, do you expect me to praise you for something a civilian teenager could do?"</div>' 'autogenerated_67679'>><<set $teammorale -= 10>><<set $teamdiscipline += 10>><</link>><</if>> </div><</nobr>> <</if>><</nobr>>

Their eyes shine with pride, and they salute you again passionately. "Thank you, Captain!" <<include 'trainingdrills'>>

They salute smartly. "Yes, Captain!" <<include 'trainingdrills'>>

Cybele gawks, and Justyn begins to frown. Daren says in a strangled voice: "You'd think we would bungle such a simple task?" He goes pale, his face drawn tight. "That you would think us so incompetent…" You hurry past the topic. "Anyway, I'm glad you're all fine. Let's get to training, shall we?" <<include 'trainingdrills'>>

Their faces all fall in a row—it's almost funny. Looking crestfallen, Justyn says in an airless voice: "Uh… no. No, of course not, Captain. We were just doing our jobs. No praise needed." You nod. "Good. Because it's not forthcoming. Let's get to training, shall we?" <<include 'trainingdrills'>>

Ysa flinches, and Daren looks like he wants to go fall on a sword. Justyn says, his breath hardly more than a whisper, "We're sorry, Captain. We let you down." "It's the Order and your own rank that you let down," you answer, merciless. You can't believe how badly they've fucked up such a simple task… but there's nothing that can be done about it, now. Everyone has a failed mission at some point. You can only hope that this is their first and last. "What's done is done," you breathe out after a moment. "Let's just put it behind us and focus on today's training." <<include 'trainingdrills'>>

Ysa flinches as if you'd struck her, and Daren looks like he wants to fall on his own javelin. Justyn says, his breath hardly more than a whisper: "We're sorry, Captain. It's not your fault. We just… we need more time to learn how to function as a team. None of us have done this before." Well, you'd never done any of this before, either, and you never messed up such a simple mission—but you decide to hold your tongue for the moment. Everyone has a failed mission at some point. You can only hope that this is their first and last. "What's done is done," you sigh. "Let's just put it behind us and focus on today's training." <<include 'trainingdrills'>>

Their looks smooth into ones of relief, and you see the tension slowly leave their bodies. Ysa nods. "We'll learn from our mistakes for next time, Captain. That, I promise." <<include 'trainingdrills'>>

Their looks brighten; you even see Cybele beginning to smile in relief, and the tension gradually leaves their bodies. Only Daren looks mildly confused. "Thank you, Captain," Ysa breathes. "I swear we will learn from our mistakes and do better next time." <<include 'trainingdrills'>>

You spend some time practicing drills intended to sharpen your recruits' reflexes and combat reaction time. This involves setting up various traps and obstacle courses, forcing them to climb over walls and duck under swinging wooden posts intended to mimic enemy blades. Daren, of course, overcomes his hurdles easily and stands, barely sweating, at the end of the course as he watches his teammates struggle on. Ysa is gamely forging forward, though she periodically earns new bruises and scrapes from the obstacles, while Justyn crawls forward at a grim, unpromising pace. Way back, Cybele is sitting on one of the tree stumps she's supposed to be balancing on as rope contraptions flail unthinkingly over her head. On the grounds behind you, you know that other captains are training their squads, as well. <<nobr>><<if $chasejoin is true>> Chase and his recruits are practicing ambush techniques in the small wooded area in the green; <</if>> <<if $brionyjoin is true>> Briony's recruits are sparring each other and shadowboxing in a tiny practice arena; <</if>> <<if $redjoin is true>> Red's recruits—all Mages—are practicing their spellwork and shielding; <</if>> Blade's recruits are running through their sword maneuvers. <<if $halekjoin is true>> Even Halek is taking a nap while he makes his recruits run laps. <</if>><</nobr>> You've heard in the refectory that training for the other squads is going decently, with generally positive yet mixed results: Blade's team are hardened, obedient, and ruthlessly efficient, just like him, while Chase's team is swaggering and cocky, but surprisingly fearsome in combat and aerial maneuvers. Some other teams are slower to learn, but one thing is constant: their recruits all respect, fear, and adore their captains in turns. You wonder how your own team is perceived, and how they in turn perceive you. You've heard some rumors that <<nobr>><<if $teamdiscipline > $teammorale>> your recruits are among the most disciplined and hardworking of the current lot, but that they're not exactly excited or passionate about their work: it's a job to them, and nothing more. <<if ($teamdiscipline >= 25) and ($recruitsmission is "scholarsuccess")>> But at least they're performing that job well. <</if>> <<elseif $teammorale > $teamdiscipline>> your recruits are among the happiest, most content, and loyal of the current lot, but that they're not exactly disciplined or all that obedient. They like you, but they haven't been pushed to their limits or forced to fear the consequences of their actions. <<if ($teammorale >= 25) and ($recruitsmission is "scholarsuccess")>> But maybe that's the way to go, anyway—after all, their first mission was a success, so what more could you ask for? <</if>> <<elseif ($teammorale is $teamdiscipline) and ($recruitsmission is "scholarsuccess")>> your recruits are among the most balanced of the current lot, both liking and respecting you to the point that they're doubly motivated to trust and follow your commands. There are even comments that certain other captains have praised your leadership style and seek to emulate it. <<else>> your leadership style is viewed as confusing or not yet quite nailed down, but you suppose it's better than being perceived as a failure. <</if>><</nobr>> "—Captain? Captain!" You blink. Something warm is trickling down your face. <<page_break "<i>Blood...</i>" "nosebleed">>

<<nobr>><<sethealth -5>><</nobr>> The recruits stop in their training exercise to hurry towards you as you bring a hand to your face and then pull it away. Your nose is bleeding profusely, so you have to sit with a handkerchief pinched to your nose as blood drips slowly onto your shirtfront. "<i>Gods</i>," Cybele says, looking aghast at the sight of you. "Are you—are you okay?" One of the Healers off-handedly mentioned that you might be overworking yourself, but they say that to pretty much all of the Shepherds who take on high-level missions that require a lot of travel, time, and stress. One of them gave Blade such an earful about arma exhaustion that even <i>he</i> looked alarmed. But add all that to the fact that you've been fighting more demons than ever, training yourself, training your recruits, <<nobr>><<if $cainejoin is true>> looking after Caine, <</if>> <<if $traumatized >= 2>> not getting much sleep, <</if>> and everything else…<</nobr>> You suppose you are feeling a little worn out. <<nobr>><<if $courage >= 50>> But you swiftly quell the tiny seed of worry burgeoning up in your chest. That's all this is: your body telling you that you need rest. You've been trying to do too much, though why, you suppose you can't quite say. The Order just needs a lot of energy to keep it on its feet. Of course the signs of wear and tear would be starting to show. This is nothing crazy. <<else>> For a moment, fear and panic threaten to overtake you—it's as if a swarm of bees had suddenly burst out of your heart, crawling under your skin, making your ears buzz. Have you been overdoing it? Or is this nosebleed a sign of something else? Is it the Words, or your magic, or are you just… dying? You swallow thickly and try to count to ten. This is fine, everything is fine. It's just a nosebleed. Nothing more. <</if>><</nobr>> Your recruits are staring at you with concern in their eyes. "Um, maybe you should go inside to rest, Captain," Ysa begins softly. "We can pack up the course…" Cybele briefly looks mischievous, and you know she's thinking about sneaking off in your absence to take a nap or goof off somewhere. However, when you look back at her, her expression is one of total innocence. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Sigh. "You know what? I think I will go rest." There's no point in overtaxing yourself right now.</div>' 'autogenerated_67680'>><<setintelligence +1>><<setcunning +3>><<setcourage -3>><<set $reputation -= 1>><<set $teamdiscipline -= 5>><<set $teammorale += 5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Sigh dramatically. "You know what? I think I will go rest." But you're actually going to stick around secretly and see what they do.</div>' 'autogenerated_67681'>><<setcunning +10>><<set $teamdiscipline += 10>><<set $teammorale -= 10>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Shake your head. "I feel fine, and the bleeding's stopped. The air is just dry or something. We keep going." </div>' 'keepgoingrecruits'>><<setintelligence -1>><<setcunning -3>><<setcourage +3>><<setreputation +1>><<set $teamdiscipline += 5>><<set $teammorale -= 5>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

You need to be in fighting condition, not pushed to your physical limit. You sigh. "I suppose I'll go lie down. Just for a bit." Ysa's face is a visage of relief. "That sounds good, Captain. Don't worry, we can handle this." Daren salutes sharply. "Feel better, Captain." You nod and turn away as you hear them resuming their practice drills, heading back towards the compound and pondering this sudden bout of exhaustion. <<include 'nappy'>>

Daren nods, then salutes sharply. "Very good, Captain. We'll handle this." <<include 'spyonrecruits'>>

<<sethealth to 100>>Eventually you make your way to your room and sink down onto your soft, cool bed, letting the dark of your room soothe the sudden headache swelling up behind your eyes. Soon enough, your eyelids drift closed, and you're quickly lost in a gentle, peaceful slumber… <<page_break "..." "wakeupfromnap">>

<i>Knock! Knock! Knock!</i> You sit up abruptly. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Where'm'I? Whozzat?"</div>' 'couriermessage'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Uh... give me a second!"</div>' 'couriermessage'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Give me a moment, please."</div>' 'couriermessage'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

You hear a muffled, formal reply through the heavy wood of your door and surmise that a Solar Corps courier is awaiting you on the other side. From his polite answer, you also surmise that he isn't here for anything like an emergency or an urgent order. You splash some water on your face, smooth down your hair, and then open the door. The messenger fires off a salute. "Captain. New orders for your squad came in. Here's the mission dossier." He hands you a wax-sealed vellum scroll, which you quickly unravel and skim. A Church leader in the South claims that an assassination attempt is being planned, but he does not specify by whom. He asks that the Shepherds send a team both to protect him and to arrest the culprits—if said attempt really exists. Possible suspects involve Mage rebels or Endarkened thralls. You feel your stomach drop. If you could have hand-picked a second mission for your team to go on, it would not be this one. "Where is my team?" you ask him, going to grab your coat. You need to give them advice, look over their equipment, assign a team leader… He snaps another salute. "They've already left, Captain." Your vision lurches. "<i>What</i>?" He looks uneasy. "Time is of the essence, Captain," he says, a tad uncertainly. "They were needed to deploy post-haste. Every second spent here is another second that the high augur could be placed in danger." "But…" You grope for something coherent to say, anything, but come up empty. "Did they say anything?" you finally ask weakly. "Who was assigned team leader?" The courier blinks. "I… am not sure, Captain," he answers, brow furrowing. Because of course he doesn't know. Why would he? He wouldn't even know when they're expected back. You shake your head. There's nothing you can do about it now. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Thanks for telling me. Have a good day."</div>' 'autogenerated_67682'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Dismissed."</div>' 'autogenerated_67683'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Next time, you need to tell me sooner. Or even tell me first. I'm their captain, after all. I should know about these things before they happen."</div>' 'autogenerated_67684'>><<setloyal +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

He salutes with a small smile. "Thank you, Captain!" <<include 'waitforteam'>>

He salutes. "Captain!" <<include 'waitforteam'>>

The messenger salutes, though you can't tell how much he means it. "I will be sure to remember that, Captain!" <<include 'waitforteam'>>

Once he's gone, you're left to contemplate your empty room and the fiery dust motes streaming through the beam of sunlight in your window. Beyond your wash-closet door, the sink drips softly. Well, you think. There's nothing you can do about it now; if orders came in for them and them alone, they had to deploy without you. All you can do now is wait for them to come home. You squash the little seed of worry in your heart, with only some success. <i>If they come home at all.</i> <<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "mission2">> <<nobr>><<set $training to 0>> <<set $training to random(1,4)>> <<set $leader to 0>> <<set $leader to random(1,4)>> <<if $training is 1>> <<set $cybelescoreranged += 5>> <<set $cybelescoredefense += 5>> <<set $justynscoredefense += 5>> <<set $justynscoreranged += 5>> <<set $darenscoreranged += 5>> <<set $darenscoredefense += 5>> <<set $ysascoredefense += 5>> <<set $ysascoreranged += 5>> <<elseif $training is 2>> <<set $cybelescoretactics += 5>> <<set $cybelescoreriding += 5>> <<set $darenscoreriding += 5>> <<set $darenscoretactics += 5>> <<set $ysascoretactics += 5>> <<set $ysascoreriding += 5>> <<set $justynscoretactics += 5>> <<set $justynscoreriding += 5>> <<elseif $training is 3>> <<set $cybelescorestealth += 5>> <<set $cybelescoreoffense += 5>> <<set $darenscoreoffense += 5>> <<set $darenscorestealth += 5>> <<set $ysascorestealth += 5>> <<set $ysascoreoffense += 5>> <<set $justynscoreoffense += 5>> <<set $justynscorestealth += 5>> <<else>> <<set $cybelescoremelee += 5>> <<set $cybelescorearcana += 5>> <<set $darenscoremelee += 5>> <<set $darenscorearcana += 5>> <<set $ysascoremelee += 5>> <<set $ysascorearcana += 5>> <<set $justynscoremelee += 5>> <<set $justynscorearcana += 5>> <</if>> <<if $leader is 1>> <<set $inchargeassassin to "justyn">> <<elseif $leader is 2>> <<set $inchargeassassin to "daren">> <<elseif $leader is 3>> <<set $inchargeassassin to "cybele">> <<else>> <<set $inchargeassassin to "ysa">> <</if>><</nobr>> <</link>>

You nod and make a show of walking away, pretending to shuffle off towards the distant compound. However, just when they've all turned away, you actually slip behind a nearby tree trunk and conceal yourself in the bushes to its right. This affords you a clear—if branch-covered—view of your recruits as they begin to pack up the obstacle course's various hurdles and traps. "I hope the captain will be okay." Ysa's soft, clipped voice drifts towards you on the wind. Cybele flaps a dismissive hand. "<<c she>>'ll be fine. <<c she>><<nobr>><<if $plural is true>>'re<<else>>'s<</if>><</nobr>>, like, a mutant or something, right? So $she'll just use $her regenerative powers and then be right as rain." "Cybele!" "What?" "The captain is not a <i>mutant</i>!" "Hey, I'm not saying it like it's an insult, it's a good thing. <<c she>><<nobr>><<if $plural is true>>'re<<else>>'s<</if>><</nobr>> like a better, evolved species or something, yaknow? Got some genetic traits from all of the races and combined it into a new being. That's why $she<<nobr>><<if $plural is true>>'re<<else>>'s<</if>><</nobr>> such a big deal. I mean, that power that isn't magic but totally fucks up demons' days? What is that? Nothing but the next step in evolution, if ya ask me. We had to evolve some better way to fight the Endarkened, no?" "I thought that power was because $she combined a Hunter's powers and a Mage's powers into something new," Justyn says, coiling a huge length of rope. Cybele nods sagely. "Yeah, see? Genetic mutation, or something. My guess is that the captain's got a little bit of everything in there, and that $she <<nobr>><<if $plural is true>>don't<<else>>doesn't<</if>><</nobr>> play by our rules." She shrugs. "No need to worry about $her, honest. A bloody nose ain't nothing compared to the shit $she<<nobr>><<if $plural is true>>'ve<<else>>'s<</if>><</nobr>> been through." Daren shakes his head. "I have no idea where you get these ridiculous ideas." "It's 'cause I think outside the box, dummy, something a good old Ket soldier like <i>you</i> don't know how to do." "You—" <<page_break "They begin to bicker again..." "recruitbicker">>

The argument rages on for a while as your recruits <<nobr>> <<if (($teamdiscipline <= 40) or ($teamdiscipline < teammorale))>> half-heartedly pick up the rest of the equipment, far more slowly than if you'd have been there. <<else>> pack up the rest of the equipment quickly, putting it all away with an unthinking efficiency that impresses you despite yourself. <</if>><</nobr>> Then Justyn says, with a brilliant grin, "Hey, you know what? It's almost time for that party to start." Ysa scoffs and tosses a bundle of poles onto a pile. "What, that party that Captain Trinaeste's recruits are throwing in their common room? Are we even invited to that?" "Well, you're my teammates, and I'm invited, so I say we all are. It's a secret, though, so keep mum about it, will you?" His look turns dreamy as he looks up at the cloud-skimming sky. "One of them, Dom or Don or whichever, smuggled a few barrels—you hear that? <i>Barrels</i>—of mead up six flights of stairs. Another slipped a few cakes and pies out of the buttery. I guess that's about what you'd expect, coming from a team trained by the Thief-Lord of Haven himself." "Why are they even holding a party during the day, anyway?" Daren asks, looking vaguely intrigued despite himself. "Won't they get caught?" Justyn waggles his finger. "A party around these parts is more noticeable at night, actually. It's all quiet—you can hear a racket from at least a floor down. Now, though, everyone's out and about, away from the compound or too busy running their own errands to take any notice. And with the forges running, people practicing in the yards…" "It's too loud to hear a commotion," Cybele finishes with pleasure. "What are we waiting for, then? Let's <i>go</i>!" "Oh, no," Daren says decisively, throwing his own things onto the sled that they'll drag back to the equipment shed. "Parties during the workweek are <i>strictly</i> unauthorized. And even though the captain is gone, we still need to do <i>some</i> training. Minte's endurance running is unspeakable…" "Oh, you <i>bitch</i>! Like I'm ever going to sprint three miles straight to get away from a demon!" "…And you, Hattoc, you really need to practice your knifework." He folds his arms, and everyone but Ysa groans in exasperation. But then you see Justyn's face split into another sly grin. "You know, Daren," he begins cheerfully, walking up to the taller Ket and slinging his arm chummily around his shoulders, "I think Eilonwy's going to the party, too. Might be a good chance to… talk to her. Get to know her, and all." Cybele looks absolutely delighted, while Ysa looks confused. Daren's face shows no reaction at all, though you notice how his shoulders tense. "Who is Eilonwy?" Ysa asks, her brow furrowing. "Oh, no one," Justyn answers gaily. "Just a nice Ket-Mage from Captain Antiqua's team. You know, the one with the scarlet eyes? She <i>blushes</i> whenever Daren's around?" Cybele hoots—"Oooooh!"—while Ysa looks briefly… hurt for a moment. <i>Interesting</i>. Then she schools the expression into one of calm disdain and says, "You just want to go to this party so you can see Hitch." "Who is Hitch?" Daren demands then, turning the tables as Justyn's face falls into an expression of something like fear and dismay. "She's his fuck-friend," Cybele says casually, while Ysa's mouth makes a round 'o' of shock and offense. "Alright, his <i>attaché</i>, if that helps. You know, the harpy with fluffy honey hair and the <i>great</i> ass? They meet up whenever either one of them is feeling, eh, in the mood. Which is how often, Justyn?" He mumbles something, and Cybele nods. "Something like four times a week, I guess." Daren makes an incredulous sound, as if such a number is beyond his comprehension, while Justyn cries, "How on earth do you know all this, woman?" "Your room's down the hall from mine, idiot," the Elf answers scornfully. "And these pointy ears hear <i>everything</i>." "Star-born gods, fire in all the skies…" "Praying won't do you any good, bard. And by the way, I've also heard what a vice-grip she's got on your balls, too. You really like getting bossed around, huh? What an earful she gives you, every time you try to kick her out of your room! I heard how you made her go out the window when Captain Trouble stopped by, looking for his pocket knife… Too bad you were in the middle of sticking her with your pocket knife, huh?" "All right, that's enough!" Justyn throws his arms in the air and makes a swift chopping motion in front of Cybele, as if to physically cut her off from speaking further. "We're going to that party, and I'm getting so drunk off my arse that I'll forget we ever had this conversation. Daren, Ysa?" They both murmur something, and you crane your neck forward to try and catch their faint words on the breeze. At that exact moment, however, you feel a wisp of breath against the back of your neck, an alien warmth behind you. <i>"Whatcha doing?"</i> <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Scream bloody murder.</div>' 'autogenerated_67685'>><<setcourage -3>><</link>> <<if $strength >= 45>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Swing around and punch as hard as you can.</div>' 'autogenerated_67686'>><<setstrength +1>><<setcourage +1>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Gasp and fall forward in an undignified heap.</div>' 'autogenerated_67687'>><<setstrength -1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Almost instantly, a slim hand clamps down on your mouth just as a familiar voice hisses, "<i>Relax</i>. It's me!" You untangle yourself and glare behind you, smoothing down your hair even though he never touched it. "<i>Chase</i>?" A catlike grin and mischievous green eyes meet yours in the dappled gloom of the bush you're both hiding in. "The one and only, baby." He's crouching, just as you are, and somehow noticed you and made his way into the shrubbery without you ever even hearing him. <<include 'chasesneaksuponyou'>>

Instantly, your assailant springs away from your fist, narrowly avoiding a black eye for his troubles. "<i>Easy</i>!" he hisses, deftly dodging another swing. "It's me!" You draw back, glaring as you finally discern the figure crouching before you: Chase, crouching at his ease in the dappled shadows of your bush, grinning like a maniac with his green eyes shining with catlike mischief. "<i>Chase</i>?" you gasp, still with your fists raised in the air. How did he notice you hiding in this bush <i>and</i> make his way into it without you ever hearing him? His grin widens. "The one and only, baby." <<include 'chasesneaksuponyou'>>

The assailant behind you laughs softly—it's a teasing, familiar sound. "Jumpy, aren't you, $nickname? I suppose that's my fault—I should know better than to sneak up on you. I did it to Blade once and nearly had my insides turned into my outsides." You scramble around to face him, gawking. "<i>Chase</i>?" He's crouching, just as you are, in the dappled gloom of the bush you're both hiding in; amused, mischievous green eyes meet yours, and he gives a cocky grin. "The one and only, baby." <<include 'chasesneaksuponyou'>>

You stare at him. "What are you <i>doing</i> here?" "I could ask you the same thing," he says blithely, still quiet enough to not be overheard by your recruits. Luckily for you—and not so promising for them—they haven't yet noticed either of your presences; not even Daren. "Though I suppose it's obvious: you're spying on your lambs. As for me, I was walking back to the compound when I noticed a <i>presence</i> in the bushes and decided to check it out. I was sort of expecting a demon, or a spy, or something—not your pretty face shoved into the greenery." He cocks his head at you. "Hear anything juicy?" You don't even know where to start with him. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"First, don't ever sneak up on me like that again."</div>' 'autogenerated_67688'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"First, you're going to have to teach me how to move like you do."</div>' 'autogenerated_67689'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"First, your first instinct shouldn't be to sneak into the same bushes a potential enemy might be hiding in."</div>' 'autogenerated_67690'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

He snorts. "Please. I'm the bloody Prince of Thieves, as Trouble would put it. Sneaking's just how I walk." <<include 'secondarentyou'>>

He snorts. <<nobr>><<if ($chaseread is true)>> "Well, you <i>are</i> teaching me how to read, so I suppose it's the least I could do." <<else>> "Please. I'm the damn Prince of Thieves. You can't just teach <i>this.</i>" He eloquently gestures at himself.<</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'secondarentyou'>>

He snorts. "Why not? That strategy's never failed me before." <<include 'secondarentyou'>>

"Second, aren't you supposed to be training your own recruits?" "I got bored," he answers, sitting back on his heels. "I already did enough training in my lifetime, what with Kato and the younger thieves. Besides, my little miscreants are already plenty capable. They can each shoot the wings off of a fly from twenty paces, and isn't that good enough?" You bite back a retort. "Well, apparently they agree that they've done enough training, because it sounds like they're getting to ready to throw a big party in their common room." Chase's eyebrows raise slightly. "Really?" Then he pouts. "And they didn't even invite me? Those little bastards!" "<i>And</i> one of yours is sleeping with one of mine." "Hitch and Justyn, I know." He covers a yawn with the back of his hand. <<nobr>> <<if ((($chaseromanceflag >= 7) or ($chase >= 70)) and (($aro is false) and ($aroace is false)))>> "They're just copying us, I should think. He sees you madly in love with me, he falls madly in love with one of my recruits…" <<else>> <br><br> "Wait, you knew?" <br><br> "'Course I knew," he says plainly. "I don't have to sit in a bush just to figure out when people are antsy for each other. Unlike <i>some</i> of us." <</if>><</nobr>> You glare. "I could strangle you." <<nobr>> <<if ($chaseromanceflag >= 10)>> "I know, and it's very attractive of you." Then he peers around at you. <<if (($chasesex is true) or ($chaseromance is true))>> "Anyway, want to make out? Always wanted to see what it was like, kissing in some bushes." <br><br> You look at him. He has that look on his face that tells you he's not being serious. At least, not entirely. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Pat his cheek. "Another time, darling."</div>' 'autogenerated_67691'>><<setchase +3>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Turn away with a scoff. "In your dreams."</div>' 'autogenerated_67692'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Raise an eyebrow. "That's it? You just ask me if I want to 'make out'? No wining and dining?"</div>' 'autogenerated_67693'>><</link>> <<if ($chaseromanceflag >= 15)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Shrug with a grin. "All right." Maybe just a quick one!</div>' 'autogenerated_67694'>><<setchase +3>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 2>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($chaseromanceflag < 15)>><div class="inactive-item">Shrug with a grin. "All right." Maybe just a quick one!</div><</if>> </div><</nobr>> <<else>> <<include "bleedchase">> <</if>> <<else>> <br><br> "I'm aware." Then he peers around at you. <<include "bleedchase">> <</if>><</nobr>>

"Ah, right," he says in an amused tone, "because you're busy spying on the idiot recruits." You huff. "I'm not… <i>spying</i>… I'm evaluating how they act when I'm not around them." <<include 'chaseblandwell'>>

"Not much wine to be found in a bush," he answers, lips quirking. "But we could go to an actual restaurant, if that's what you want first." You catch that 'first' like it's inevitable what's going to happen after the restaurant. You shake your head, smiling despite yourself. "Maybe some other time." "Ah, right," he says in an amused tone, "because you're busy spying on the idiot recruits." You huff. "I'm not… <i>spying</i>… I'm evaluating how they act when I'm not around them." <<include 'chaseblandwell'>>

He grins, but your view of his smug expression is obscured when he gently cups your chin and leans in for a kiss. It's slow, languid, and teasing, not the searing and half-ferocious kind of kiss he gives you before making love. Still, when you pull away, you feel as if your lips are burning, and from the way Chase's eyes linger, you can tell they're kiss-swollen, and your hair is askew. Chase cracks a sleepy, languid kind of smile. "Careful, gorgeous," he whispers. "Else your recruits over there are going to catch at least one of us in a bush without our clothes on." That's enough to snap you out of it; you slap his shoulder lightly. He's still crouching in that frog-like position, but he somehow makes it look… sexy. "You're ridiculous." "As ridiculous as someone who hides in a bush to spy on their recruits?" To your annoyance, he goes right back to your conversation as if you hadn't just been passionately "making out," as he called it. You huff. "I'm not… <i>spying</i>… I'm evaluating how they act when I'm not around them." <<include 'chaseblandwell'>>

"Is that… is that blood on your face?" You automatically daub your nose, though your nosebleed stopped long ago. "It's a long story." "Ah, one that ends with you spying on your idiot recruits? Say no more." You huff. "I'm not… <i>spying</i>… I'm evaluating how they act when I'm not around them." <<include "chaseblandwell">>

"Well, I could have told you that was a bad idea," Chase says blandly. "They're young, dumb, and not quite used to having their massive responsibilities yet. Of course they're going to get up to something outrageous. That's not a reflection on you, you know." You sigh and sit back on your heels just as he shuffles up to sit next to you fully. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Are we sure it isn't?"</div>' 'autogenerated_67695'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Who says I'm worried about them reflecting on me?"</div>' 'autogenerated_67696'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I don't think I was ever <i>that</i> dumb."</div>' 'autogenerated_67697'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Chase shakes his head. "Dead sure. They're their own people, <<c firstname>>. They're going to make their own choices, no matter how fine a job you do training them. It's like… you can give them the tools, yeah? But you can't force them to dig the… best grave with them?" At your look, he amends, "Poor analogy. How about: you can lead a horse to water, but you can't force it to drink. Some horses are just really stupid. Some are young and still learning. But you can't make them… <i>not</i> that way. You've just gotta wait for them to wise up and drink that water on their own. Or they die of thirst, whichever. But it's out of your hands, at that point." <<include 'youshakeyourheadatchase'>>

Chase smiles slightly. "Just a gut feeling. But, look, they're their own people, <<c firstname>>. They're going to make their own choices, no matter how fine a job you do training them. It's like… you can give them the tools, yeah? But you can't force them to dig the… best grave with them?" At your look, he amends, "Poor analogy. How about: you can lead a horse to water, but you can't force it to drink. Some horses are just really stupid. Some are young and still learning. But you can't make them… <i>not</i> that way. You've just gotta wait for them to wise up and drink that water on their own. Or they die of thirst, whichever. But it's out of your hands, at that point." <<include 'youshakeyourheadatchase'>>

<<nobr>><<if ($shepherdsconscript is true)>> "Maybe not," Chase admits, "but you must remember what it was like for you to join the Shepherds after you didn't even want to. You probably contemplated doing some stupid stuff after being conscripted. A party's not that bad, in the grand scheme of things." <<else>> "Maybe not," Chase admits, "but you are something of an old soul. I know if it were me, though, with someone spying on me, I'd look so idiotic that they'd wonder how I even made it this far, let alone took on the rank of captain. It seems hardly fair to hold some greenies up to a standard even I wouldn't meet." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'youshakeyourheadatchase'>>

You shake your head. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Since when did you get so wise and sensible?"</div>' 'autogenerated_67698'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm not buying it. I can do better, and so can they."</div>' 'autogenerated_67699'>><<setloyal +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Sorry, Chase. This isn't really your concern, so you can save the advice."</div>' 'autogenerated_67700'>><<setchase -3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

He looks dry. "This may be news to you, but I've <i>always</i> been clever. The brains of the operation." "<i>Clever</i> isn't the same thing as <i>wise</i>." <<nobr>><<if ($chasetime > 1)>> "It is to a guy who can't read," he says cheerfully. <<else>> "I wouldn't know," he says cheerfully. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'thenhelooksatyourrecruits'>>

He looks wry. "Should have known you wouldn't listen," he mutters, half to himself. <<include 'thenhelooksatyourrecruits'>>

He looks wry. "Should have known not to stick my nose in," he mutters, half to himself. <<include 'thenhelooksatyourrecruits'>>

Then he looks to your recruits. "Well? What are you going to do with them, now that you know what they're up to? You can't let them know you were eavesdropping, they'll never trust you again. You want me to go over and put the fear of God into them?" You take a moment to think it over, watching as Justyn punches Daren's shoulder and Ysa stares down at the ground, looking rather downcast before Cybele jostles her playfully. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Shake your head. "No, let them go to the party. I can't stop them from enjoying themselves... and probably shouldn't."</div>' 'autogenerated_67701'>><<setloyal -5>><<setcompassionate +3>><<setchase +3>><<set $teamdiscipline -= 5>><<set $teammorale += 10>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Nod your head. "Yes. Go over there and tell them to keep working." </div>' 'autogenerated_67702'>><<setloyal +10>><<setcompassionate -3>><<setchase -3>><<set $teamdiscipline += 10>><<set teammorale -= 10>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Sigh. "You should go over there and discipline them for fraternizing with other Shepherds, but don't stop them from going to the party."</div>' 'autogenerated_67703'>><<setloyal +3>><<setchase -3>><<set $teamdiscipline += 10>><<set $teammorale -= 5>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>> <<if ($gender is "female")>> "Atta girl," he says gently, clasping your shoulder. <<elseif ($gender is "male")>> "Atta boy," he says gently, clasping your shoulder. <<else>> "I agree," he says gently, clasping your shoulder. <</if>><</nobr>> "Now: I believe there's a cool drink in the canteen that's calling our names. Let's get out of this bush, shall we?" Before either of you can move, though, you suddenly notice one of the Solar Corps couriers jogging towards your recruits from across the field, just as they're finishing packing up the equipment. They all pause mid-motion, watching as the messenger approaches them. Daren tenses like he knows what's coming. Chase spots the wax-sealed scroll clutched in the panting young messenger's hands at the same time you do and blows out a breath. "Mission," he breathes. "You want me to go over there and get the scoop?" You nod—you need to know what your squad is being deployed for—and he rises smoothly and makes his own approach, sauntering with his hands clasped behind his head as if he really was just strolling past. He stops in front of the group and listens casually while the courier reads off their new orders. Then the man hands the scroll to the nearest recruit—Cybele, who holds it away from her like it's a dead thing. <<include 'yourrecruitslistenforawhile5'>>

He sighs. "Aye aye, Captain," he murmurs, rising smoothly to his feet and beginning to wade out of the bush. He clears his throat, like an actor preparing his lungs before a big performance. "Whatever you say." The recruits spot him just when he's at the edge of the field. Chase takes a breath, pauses—and then begins laying into each recruit at a volume you've never seen him use before. You realize belatedly that you've never really heard Chase yell or raise his voice, outside of games or the excitement of battle—he's rarely shown any emotion, in fact, besides charmingly pleasant, mischievous, or flirtatious. From the round-as-saucers look in your recruits' eyes, you can tell they haven't seen him like this, either. <<include 'theyrereallygettingworkedover5'>>

<<nobr>><<if (($chasesex is true) or ($chaseromance is true))>> <<setchase -3>> Chase raises an incredulous eyebrow. "<i>Come again</i>? You sure you really want to fire off that <i>particular</i> criticism?" <br><br> You glare at him, and he shakes his head. "It's the gall of it all that shocks me. Or shall I regale you with how much <i>fraternizing</i> we did just the other night?" <br><br> "That's different," you hiss. "We can be trusted to not let… <i>us</i> get in the way of our work." <br><br> "Okay, point that out to me the next time we get 'bored' writing up our mission reports together," he intones, looking distinctly unimpressed. "But sure, I'll go and relay the message. But they already know about us, you hear? Or at least have an inkling. I can see it in their stares every time I walk past you. We <i>ooze</i> pheromones, sweetheart, much as you might want to deny it. Strong, lovely, 'we're doing it' pheromones. So you're just going to come off looking like a hypocrite. Or rather, <i>I</i> am." He smiles suddenly. "Actually, this is going to be rather funny. <i>Me</i>, walking up to them and reprimanding them for getting to know their coworkers too well." <<else>> He cocks an incredulous brow. "What, people actually follow that stupid no-fraternization rule?" <br><br> "They're supposed to," you deadpan. <br><br> Chase looks unimpressed. "Please. Blade just proved that his insides are made of clockwork with that rule. Any leader worth his salt is going to figure out what happens when you stick a bunch of young, attractive people—who all know how to grapple each other, to boot—into the same living quarters, or in the heat of battle. There are dozens of enticing scenarios just waiting to snag an unsuspecting greenie. 'Ooh, please tend to your teammate's wounds tenderly after they almost get killed. Oh, take off your shirts so you can practicing pinning each other on a sweaty day. But definitely don't notice how weirdly sexy everyone in this Order is!' Ridiculous." <<if (($bladeromance is true) or ($bladeromanceflag >= 20))>> Then he stops, looking briefly thoughtful. "Besides, it's not even like <i>he</i> hasn't been spending a particular amount of time with a certain special someone, either. A hypocrite of the highest decree." His look is pointed—and then he sighs. "But, fine, if you want me to go over there and relay the message, I will." <<else>> He sighs. "But, fine, if you want me to go over there and relay the message, I will." <</if>> <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'beforeyoucansayanythingelsechase'>>

<<page_break "They're really getting worked over..." "theyrereallygettingworkedover">>

Chase continues his bellowing tirade against each recruit, giving them each a verbal dressing-down in turns. Some of the stuff he gets into sounds quite personal, and you wonder how he knows so much about Justyn or Daren when he's barely glanced at them whenever you're around. Ysa looks like she's going to cry. "—and you are not to attend that <i>bloody</i> party, because you are goddamned <i>Shepherds</i>, and you will not disgrace this Order's fine name by goofing off and drinking with my team while you're getting paid to work and defend our <i>capitol</i>, because by God, the Autarch is counting on each and every one of you to not act a fool—" Then he stops abruptly, smiling as coolly and easily as if he hadn't been skewering the recruits in front of him with words and insults. A messenger is approaching the group, sweating in a little in the harsh hot light of the day as he crosses the field stretching back to the compound. He has a sealed scroll clutched in his left hand. A mission. He's coming to deliver them orders for a new mission. You feel your heart quicken in realization, and you watch as your four recruits snap into a formal salute. Chase only stands there, slouching at his ease while the Solar Corps courier raps off whatever orders are on the scroll. Then he passes it off to the nearest officer—Cybele, who holds the parchment away from her like it's a dead thing. <<include "yourrecruitslistenforawhile5">>

<<page_break "..." "yourrecruitslistenforawhile">>

Before you can say anything else, he stands easily and begins to wade his way out of the bush, clasping his hands behind his head as if he really was just casually strolling by. Your recruits turn to look at him in surprise as he saunters up to them; he puts an arm familiarly around Justyn's shoulder and whispers something into his ear. You watch Justyn's face go chalk-white. <<page_break "What is he saying over there?..." "chaseslambast">>

Chase continues his quiet lecture, smiling genially all the while as the blood keeps draining from your recruits' faces. They look both dismayed and horrified. Chase nods knowingly and points to Cybele, and she looks like she wants to flee. Or throw up. Daren looks like he wishes the earth would open beneath his feet and swallow him whole. The whole thing only comes to an end when a figure appears in the distance: a Solar Corps messenger, clutching a wax-sealed scroll in his left hand. Chase, still with his arm slung around Justyn's shoulder, cocks his head curiously as the messenger halts in front of the group. He unseals the scroll and begins reading from it. A mission, you realize, your heart quickening a little. He's giving them a new mission. <<include "yourrecruitslistenforawhile5">>

Your recruits listen for a while before the courier turns on his heel and marches away. You watch as they converse with each other in low, anxious voices before Chase crosses his arms and makes some sort of remark; then suddenly they're scrambling, packing up their things in a rush before hurrying away out of sight. You stand from the confines of the bush just as Chase comes strolling back over. "What happened?" "Mission," he says simply, sticking his hands in his pockets. "Something about investigating a planned assassination attempt on some old church fart. Assassins might be Mage rebels, might be Endarkened or Endarkened-thralls. Your squad's got the fine duty of checking it out for themselves, and hopefully stopping any attempts before any harm's done." He pauses, thinking on it. "Them and them alone, too—it's still considered a low-level mission, considering what other work the rest of us have got on our plates. But it'll still be tricky for them to navigate on their own." You groan. A mission like that will require a level of stealth, finesse, strategy, and defensive skills that you're not sure your recruits totally possess. But if the assignment came for them and them only, you certainly can't accompany them into the field like a mother hen herding her chicks. But if you hurry, you can catch them before they leave and give them some advice—and without breaking your guiltless cover of having been gone this whole time to 'rest in your room.' "Who is team leader?" Chase shrugs. "They voted among themselves and picked the tall one, with the brown hair. Makes sense, I guess. This is the sort of job a Ket mercenary would excel at." Only if he's been properly trained in the right areas, you think with a tinge of worry. But there's no helping it, now. They're either prepared or they're not. "I told them to keep an eye on their stealth and defense," Chase adds then, noticing your concerned expression. "If they're going to protect this church guy, they're going to need both." He pats your shoulder. "I gave them some tips before they left, don't worry." "I have to go," you tell him—and then you're off jogging in the direction of the compound. "Glad I could be of help!" Chase calls. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Thanks for your help!"</div>' 'autogenerated_67704'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"We'll talk later."</div>' 'autogenerated_67705'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I just hope they don't get themselves killed."</div>' 'autogenerated_67706'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Goodbye."</div>' 'autogenerated_67707'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Don't answer.</div>' 'autogenerated_67708'>><<setchase -5>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

You don't stick around long enough to hear Chase's reply. <<include 'pagebreakscoreset'>>

You hear him tut under his breath. "And they say I have bad manners," he mutters. You don't stick around long enough to answer. <<include 'pagebreakscoreset'>>

<<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "findrecruitsrooms">><<set $inchargeassassin to "daren", $ysascoredefense += 5, $ysascorestealth += 5, $darenscoredefense += 5, $darenscorestealth += 5, $justynscoredefense += 5, $justynscorestealth += 5, $cybelescoredefense += 5, $cybelescorestealth += 5>><</link>>

But by the time you reach your recruits' rooms, you find their quarters ransacked and their traveling packs gone, some of their clothes strewn all over the floors. They've already departed the compound, it seems, moving at a speed that's unusual for them—maybe they're growing more efficient over time? And it's too late for you to find them, to stop them, to tell them anything you might want to say. With a sigh, you turn back to the massive building, the half-fallen tower brooding over the others in the neighborhood like a giant squatting among toadstools. You sigh. You have no choice, now. You can only wait for them to come back—and hope that they come back at all. At least you know they're not going to that party. <<include "mission2">>

Ysa grimaces, but she seems to know there's no arguing with you. Still, she hazards, "Are you sure, Captain?" You feel an edge of annoyance. "Of course I'm sure. Trust me, I've handled <i>far</i> worse than this." But now Cybele is shouldering her way forward. "Okay, nuh-uh," she says, her voice petulant. "There is no way we're letting you stay here!" Daren nudges her and hisses warningly just as you fold your arms. "Are you challenging your commanding officer, recruit?" Cybele is undeterred by your stern look. "You're like the gods-damn Nikiri Waterfall," she says, pointing at your nose. "Go back to the compound and lie down. You're in no condition to stand here and train us, even if you're <i>not</i> doing much more than just watching, anyway." You sense a challenge in her voice and feel yourself bristle. "I'll have you know, I could run laps beside you and still not break a sweat." You're starting to hear how ridiculous you sound, though, with your nose pinched and your voice muffled and nasally. Still, you forge ahead. "A bloody nose isn't going to stop me." "Oh, yeah?" Cybele cocks a hip. "Then prove it. Why don't we run the course together? If you beat me, you prove you're just fine, and we can keep training. I win, you lie down, and we get the rest of the day off. How's <i>that</i> sound?" Justyn makes a disconcerted sound and turns around, ambling off as if to get himself out of the oncoming blast zone; Ysa looks horrified while Daren looks livid. Cybele, though—she just stares into your eyes, far more confident and smug than she has any right to be. This is the same Elf you just saw sitting down instead of actually running her laps, right? <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You're on. And if I win, you have to actually do the drills and push yourself, not just coast."</div>' 'autogenerated_67709'>><</link>> <<if ($gold >= 10)>><<link '<div class="money-item">"Want to make it even more interesting? Throw in ten deucalions while you're at it."</div>' 'autogenerated_67710'>><<set $teamdiscipline -= 5>><<setcunning +3>><<set $cybelebet to true>><</link>><</if>> <<if $gold < 10>><div class="inactive-item">"Want to make it even more interesting? Throw in ten deucalions while you're at it."</div><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"No way. I <i>could</i> beat you, but I shouldn't have to just to make you do your job. I'm your captain. You do what I say, whether or not I trounce you in some stupid challenge. Now start training."</div>' 'autogenerated_67711'>><<set $teammorale -= 5>><<set $teamdiscipline -= 5>><<setcompassionate -3>><<setloyal +3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Cybele snorts, as if you'd proposed something entirely ridiculous and outlandish. "Fine, you're on." <<include 'betina'>>

Cybele snorts. "Free money? Fine, you're on, Cap'n." <<include 'betina'>>

Cybele snorts and rolls her eyes. "Fine. Whatever you say, Captain." You don't quite like her tone, but there's nothing you can do about it: she turns away and begins resuming her laps, actually breaking into a sprint for once. You look at the other recruits, who all back away quietly and return to their exercises. With a sigh, you wad your handkerchief against your nose and continue giving them directions from the sidelines. <<include 'pagebreaktraining3'>>

Your team exchanges glances with each other as you and Cybele make your way to the start of the obstacle course without another word. The petite Elf stretches dramatically, bounces on her heels, and puffs out her breaths like a professional runner. You, on the other hand, eye the obstacle course. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if ((($courage >= 40) and ($loyal >= 55)) and ($strength >= 55))>><<link '<div class="choice-item">You've used it many times in your own training before.</div>' 'temprace3'>><<setstrength +1>><</link>><</if>> <<if $courage < 40 or $loyal < 55 or $strength < 55>><div class="inactive-item">You've used it many times in your own training before.</div><</if>> <<if ((($intelligence >= 40) and ($cunning >= 40)) and ($loyal >= 30))>><<link '<div class="choice-item">You only know it because of how many times you've run the recruits through it, but you have a solid enough idea of its surprises.</div>' 'temprace3'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>><</if>> <<if $intelligence < 40 or $cunning < 40 or $loyal < 30>><div class="inactive-item">You only know it because of how many times you've run the recruits through it, but you have a solid enough idea of its surprises.</div><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You've barely glanced at it, even when making your grunts run drills. Hopefully nothing takes you by surprise...</div>' 'temprace3'>><<setstrength -1>><<setloyal -1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<set $race to 3>>As the appointed referee, Ysa makes her way to the side of the field, where she can have a clear view of what's going on. "First one to pull the bell"—she points to a dangling rope bell pull hidden beneath a tree so far away it looks like mere speck of shadow in your eye—"is the winner. No trying to push or sabotage each other, this is just a race to show off physical condition. And no magic for an unfair advantage, either! Got it?" You both nod. She takes a deep breath and raises both hands; beside her, Justyn sits down in the grass for the show, while Daren prowls the sidelines, examining each obstacle with a gimlet eye. He catches your gaze and nods seriously. You're pretty sure he's the only one in the world who would fervently root for his superior to win against his own teammate. Ysa claps suddenly, barking out in a loud, strained voice: "Begin!" Cybele takes off like a madwoman, tearing through the grass like the very hounds of Hael are after her! <<page_break "<i>Shit!</i>" "racewithcybele">>

You take off running as well, <<nobr>><<if ($strength >= 50)>> and it's not long before you've caught up to Cybele—then surpassed her. <<else>> but you can't quite seem to match Cybele's pace: frustratingly, you always remain just a few yards behind her. Hopefully you can make up for the lost time on the actual obstacles.<</if>><</nobr>> Then, out of nowhere, a bucket on a rope comes flying down at your head, intended to simulate projectiles or overhead blows in battle. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You duck below the bucket just before it strikes you.</div>' 'autogenerated_67712'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You put on an extra burst of speed to get out of the bucket's range before it hits you.</div>' 'autogenerated_67713'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Without skipping a beat, you turn and punch the bucket away from you while still running.</div>' 'autogenerated_67714'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Impressively, you do a sideways corkscrew jump and leap <i>over</i> the bucket.</div>' 'autogenerated_67715'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if ($strength >= 50)>> It's almost child's play: the swing of the bucket is slow, almost pensive. It takes nothing at all for you to bend your head forward a little and let the heavy object graze past the back of your neck, the momentum nothing more than a pleasant breeze. <br><br> To your left, Cybele tries to dodge her own bucket and ends up stumbling over her feet, cursing as she loses a little ground to you. <<else>> <<set $race -= 1>> <<set $health -= 5>> You try to duck in time, but find that you move too slow… and then you get brained by the heavy bucket before your feet can catch up with your brain. <br><br> <i>Ow</i>. <br><br> To your left, Cybele also gets hit by a bucket flying at her from the other direction. However, she manages to keep running. <br><br> So do you, but you lose some ground to her. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'cybelerace2'>>

<<nobr>><<if ($strength >= 50)>> It's almost child's play; you've dodged blades and outmaneuvered bullets before, so the slow, pensive swing of the heavy bucket is laughable in comparison. <br><br> To your left, Cybele tries to dodge her own bucket and ends up tripping over her own feet, cursing as she staggers and breaks her own momentum. You gain a little more ground. <<else>> <<set $race -= 1>> <<set $health -= 5>> You try to outrun the pendulum of death, as the old saying goes, but you find that you're not fast enough to evade <i>gravity</i>; you miscalculate, the bucket's momentum quickens on the downswing, and you get nailed in the head for your troubles. <br><br> <i>Ow</i>. <br><br> To your left, Cybele also gets hit by a bucket flying at her from the other direction—however, she manages to keep running. <br><br> So do you, but you lose some ground to her as you try to shake off the starbursts behind your eyes. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'cybelerace2'>>

<<nobr>><<if ($strength >= 50)>> Without even glancing at it, you draw your arm back and punch the empty bucket, sending it flying in the opposite direction like a ball hit by a wooden bat. Justyn, on the sidelines, gives a little squawk of incredulity. To your left, Cybele gets hit in the head by her own bucket and curses. "Are you <i>kidding</i> me?" <br><br> You continue running as she lags slightly behind, rubbing her head. Child's play. <<else>> <<set $race -= 1>> <<set $health -= 5>> You try to stick your arm out, sort of like a battering ram, intending to punch the bucket away from you as you run. <br><br> However, events don't transpire this way, because it's hard to hit a moving target without also slowing down. You end up missing the bucket entirely and getting nailed in the face for your troubles; this causes you to stagger and nearly fall as you clutch your sore, recently-bleeding nose. <i>Damn it.</i> <br><br> To your left, Cybele also gets hit by her own bucket, but she gamely manages to keep going as she shrugs off the blow. So do you, after a stunned half-second—but you lose some ground. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'cybelerace2'>>

<<nobr>><<if ($strength >= 60)>> Like some sort of professional sprinter, you take a running leap and corkscrew your body over the bucket, landing lightly on your feet and continuing your run as if nothing had happened! <br><br> Somewhere on the sidelines, Justyn lets loose a shriek of incredulity while Daren smirks. <br><br> To your left, Cybele tries to slide under her own bucket on her knees; she half-succeeds, but still gets nailed in the shoulder for her trouble. She curses and staggers to her feet, but it costs her precious seconds; you pull ahead. <<else>> <<set $race -= 1>> <<set $health -= 10>> Oh, $god, what were you thinking? You feel a muscle in your back wrench as you try to leap and twist yourself over the bucket. However, you got the timing wrong, so not only do you look like an ungainly tangle of limbs in the air—but you essentially dive and go flying right into the bucket's pathway, bashing into it and landing on a heap in the ground. Somewhere on the sidelines, you hear Justyn hiss sympathetically through his teeth. <br><br> It takes you a few precious seconds to regain your bearings, and in that time, Cybele pulls ahead. Cursing, you drag yourself to your feet and keep running. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'cybelerace2'>>

<<page_break "Next" "cybelerace22">>

Now, a tall, craggy wall juts up in front of you, a magic-made construction intended to mimic a natural cliff face about thirty feet high. <<nobr>><<if ($race <= 1)>> Cybele throws herself onto it just as you reach the base of the wall; <<else>> You reach the base before Cybele does; <</if>><</nobr>> you look up and scan its surface for convenient footholds and handholds, of which there are few. How are you going to tackle this? <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Slow and steady wins the race. If you go too fast and risk falling, Cybele will gain an almost insurmountable lead. Take your time.</div>' 'autogenerated_67716'>><<setintelligence +1>><<setcunning +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Fast and powerful wins the race. You can't afford to dawdle, and you're stronger than Cybele. If you happen to slip, you're confident you'll be able to hold yourself in place. </div>' 'autogenerated_67717'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if ((($cunning >= 50) and ($intelligence >= 40)) and ($strength >= 45))>> You begin to pick your way up the rock wall just as Cybele scrambles up it like a monkey. For a moment, you wonder if you've chosen the wrong strategy, because she quickly makes her way to the top third of the wall, now scaling the pitted surface with the natural ease and grace of an Elf. <br><br> However, your steadiness and keen eye win out; because you're able to pick out the right places to align your hands and feet, you're also able to cling to the wall with the strength of a barnacle adhered to a ship. Cybele, on the other hand, eventually slips, yelps—and then tumbles down the wall. She manages to catch herself before she hits the ground, but it affords you a hefty lead. You'll have to teach her to be more strategic in the future. <br><br> With a grunt of effort, you finally heave yourself over the top of the wall, skitter down to the other side, and take off running. Shortly after, Cybele's hand appears at the top of the wall, waving in the air helplessly like a flag of surrender. <<else>> <<set $race -= 1>> <<set $health -= 5>> You begin to pick your way up the rock wall just as Cybele scrambles up it like a monkey. You immediately see the error in your strategy: you're taking far too long to select the right spots to place your hands and feet, and Cybele quickly scales the pitted surface of the wall until she's at its apex, almost blindingly fast. Then she looks back, shoots you a face-splitting grin, and then vaults over the top of the wall. You immediately hear her fall all the way to the bottom on the other side, screeching—but that just means her lead on you is even bigger. <br><br> You growl and continue to make your way up, finally getting to the other side just as a dazed Cybele sits up on the cushioned floor mats placed at the bottom. Then she looks up at you, blinks rapidly… and then takes off running again. You drop to the ground unceremoniously and give chase. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'cybelerace3'>>

<<nobr>><<if ($strength >= 60)>> You surge powerfully up the rock wall, hauling yourself up with long, bouncing strides and taking several yards with each leap and bound. There's something about the movement that feels distinctly froglike, but hopefully it looks more impressive to your recruits watching down on the ground. Some cheer, and you glance back to see that Cybele is still only halfway up the wall while you're now already at the top; she scrabbles feebly for a handhold, sweating and groaning with exertion. <br><br> Then you vault over the top of the wall, swing onto the other side… and drop. By the time you hit the bottom and take off running, Cybele's hand is only just waving over the top of the wall like a flag of surrender. <<else>> <<set $race -= 1>> <<set $health -= 5>> You surge powerfully up the rock wall, taking several yards with each leap and bound. For a moment, you maintain a strong lead—you are already about halfway up while Cybele is still at the bottom—before you realize your dire mistake: you're moving so fast, and the strength required for each jump so demanding, that your hand is coated in sweat. And that does not make for a sure grip. You reach out, scrabble for a handhold, miss it, and then… your body is bowing back mysteriously, as if you were pushed by an invisible hand. You tip precariously back into space for a moment, hanging there like a pendulum suspended by a thin string. <br><br> And then you drop. <br><br> Cybele gives a hoot of excitement just as you fall past her and crash down onto the soft, cushioned mat at the bottom of the wall, placed there for this exact reason. You land in an ungainly heap, mostly unharmed, and stare up as Cybele's body rapidly shrinks in front of you, the recruit scrambling up the wall with unusual gracelessness for an Elf. Still, she's beating you, so it doesn't matter how gracefully she is or is not doing it. You force yourself up, check your body over for broken bones, and then wipe your hands and grip the wall in front of you again. Time to do it all over. And now Cybele has a large lead. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'cybelerace3'>>

<<page_break "Next" "cybelerace33">>

You run, dodge, jump, and roll as the end of the obstacle course finally draws near. Beside you, <<nobr>><<if ($race <= 2)>> Cybele lags and draws closer, closes the gap and then loses it again. <<else>> Cybele slows to a half-hearted, sullen jog. <</if>><</nobr>> There's only one obstacle left for you to cross before you make it to the finish line… A pit full of spikes! Well, all right, the "spikes" are more like paper cones in order to <i>simulate</i> spikes, but falling into the man-high pit still does not sound like a fun time. You… <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Jump!</div>' 'autogenerated_67718'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Run around the pit to avoid it!</div>' 'autogenerated_67719'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Jump into the pit and run through it, jumping back up onto the other side!</div>' 'autogenerated_67720'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if ($strength > 65)>> <<set $teamdiscipline += 3>> <<set $teammorale += 3>> <<set $reputation += 1>> You take a running start and <i>jump</i>, landing smoothly on the other side of the pit with barely a sound. You glance back at Cybele and see her wide eyes; she shakes her head and shuffles around the side of the hole, arms pumping. You continue on towards the finish line. <<else>> <<set $health -= 5>> <<set $race -= 1>> You back up to take a running leap, but no start in the world could have gotten you to the other side of that hole. You realize it halfway through your jump, but it's too late to stop yourself or change course; you jump into the air, feel that weightless, airless moment of realization—and then you smash into the other side of the pit, its edge cutting deep into your armpits. You scrabble madly for a moment, winded and fighting through the sudden <i>whoosh</i> of pain, and manage to cling onto the grass before you slither backwards into the pit. <br><br> Cybele dashes past you, having run around the hole. You heave yourself out of it, then stagger to your feet. This is not over yet!<</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'cybelerace4'>>

<<nobr>><<if (($strength >= 50) and ($race > 1))>> It's the safest option: you're not sure you could leap all the way across the pit, and you don't want to risk falling into it, so you just run around it. It shaves a few seconds off of your progress, but it's better than having to crawl out of a giant hole filled with paper cones. <br><br> Cybele follows suit and runs around the other side of the pit, but you're faster and stronger than she is. <<else>> <<set $race -= 1>> It's the safest option: you're not sure you could leap all the way across the pit, and you don't want to risk falling into it, so you just run around it. <br><br> However, that does shave a few seconds off of your progress, and Cybele had the same idea as you: now you're neck and neck. No, she's starting to pull ahead! <br><br> You put on one last desperate burst of speed to try and catch up. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'cybelerace4'>>

<<nobr>><<if ($strength >= 65)>> It's sort of the safest option—by jumping down into the pit, you can't fall into it! And for some reason, it saves more time than running around it…? <br><br> Regardless, your unusual strategy pays off, because you're so agile that you can jump in and out of the pit even faster than Cybele can run around it. <<else>> <<set $race -= 1>> Why? Why did you do that? Didn't you know that jumping down into a pit, running through it, and then climbing back up on its other side would take far longer than simply running around it, as Cybele did?! Now she's pulling ahead! You put on one last desperate burst of speed to try and catch up. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'cybelerace4'>>

<<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "cybele44">><<nobr>> <<if $race >= 1 and $strength >= 50>><<set $reputation += 1, $teamdiscipline += 5, $teammorale += 5>><<if $cybelebet is true>><<set $gold += 10>><</if>><<else>><<set $reputation -= 5, $teamdiscipline -= 5, $teammorale += 3>><<if $cybelebet is true>><<set $gold -= 10>><</if>><</if>><</nobr>><</link>>

<<nobr>><<if $race gte 1 and $strength gte 50>> <<include "woncybelerace">> <<else>> <<include "lostcybelerace">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<if $cybelebet is true>><<notify_gold "+10 Gold">><</if>><i>Ding ding ding!</i> You won the race! Cybele collapses in the soft grass behind you, wailing. "<i>Fuck</i>!" "You fool," Daren says scornfully, crossing his arms as Ysa kneels to help her. "How dare you think you could ever defeat the captain? And especially in a physical contest? You ask Justyn to carry you up the stairs." "Oh, <i>shut up</i>!" She scowls at you from her vantage point on the floor just as Justyn comes jogging up. "Well, you did it, Captain. You proved that you could beat me with your eyes closed and your hands tied behind your back." You fold your arms. <<nobr>><<if $cybelebet is true>> "Got my money?" <br><br> She scowls and fishes out a handful of deucalions from her coinbag, practically pelting them at you like she wishes they were a handful of gravel. <br><br> You turn to the others, tucking the money away in your pocket. <</if>><</nobr>>"Now then," you say smoothly, not having even broken a sweat, "let's keep training, shall we?" Cybele grimaces. "Uh… can I have a break? I did just do a shitload of running…" You smile mirthlessly at her. "Not. A. Chance." Cybele—and the others—look like they regret being born. <<page_break "..." "continuetraining3">>

You decide to resume your training. <<page_break "..." "training3">>

<<nobr>><<if $cybelebet is true>><<notify_gold "-10 Gold">><</if>><</nobr>><i>Ding ding ding!</i> Cybele pulls the bell… You lost the race! You bow over, hands on your knees as you fight for frustrated breaths. <<page_break "<i>Damn it...</i>" "cybelelostrace2">>

Cybele jumps up and down, waving her arms in the air and screaming, "I DID IT!" Justyn hugs her, and they bounce up and down together, cackling with glee. Daren looks faintly disillusioned, while Ysa smiles nervously. "Good job, Captain," she says in her soft, lilting voice. "You put up a great fight, considering you were just bleeding profusely from your… face." Cybele wheels around to you before you can answer. "Ha!" she cries, jamming a finger at you. "Take <i>that!</i> Let no one ever say that the great Hero of Haven was invincible!" <<nobr>><<if $cybelebet is true>>Then she sticks out her palm. "Money, please!" <br><br> You roll your eyes as you hand her some coins from your coinpouch. <<else>> You roll your eyes. <</if>><</nobr>> <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Let no one ever say that Cybele Minte was gracious in victory."</div>' 'autogenerated_67721'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Good job, Cybele. That's the fastest I've ever seen you move."</div>' 'autogenerated_67722'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You got lucky, that's all. Like you said, I'm feeling weak today..."</div>' 'autogenerated_67723'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Now if only you'd put that much effort into your actual assignments..."</div>' 'autogenerated_67724'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"Aw, shucks," she says with a grin. "Sorry about that. Now can we go? You did promise…" <<include 'youlosttocybele'>>

"Aw, shucks," she says with a grin. "Thanks, Captain. Now can we go? You did promise…" <<include 'youlosttocybele'>>

"Aw, don't be so hard on yourself, Cap'n," she says with a grin. "Now can we go? You did promise…" <<include 'youlosttocybele'>>

"That's for another day," she answers with a mischievous grin. "Now, can we go? You did promise…" <<include 'youlosttocybele'>>

You sigh. You did. "Fine. Training is over for today; you can go. Dismissed." Your recruits all break out into smiles—except for Daren, who looks as dour as ever. However, even he doesn't look totally annoyed by the early finale. And to your surprise, Cybele throws her arms around you in a quick hug. "Thanks, Cap'n," she says into your shoulder. Then she's turning away, leaving a sweat-damp indent on your shirt. Justyn claps you on the shoulder. They don't say anything else, but from the looks on their faces, you can tell they… admire you. A lot. You don't really want to examine that, not right now. And soon enough, they're taking off across the field, chattering brightly and hurrying like they're afraid you're going to change your mind. You sigh again, watching them disappear into the distance. Well. It looks like your time with your recruits is over for today. You plod back towards the compound, deciding a nap might be a good way to pass the remainder of the session. Self-consciously, you daub at your face again. Hopefully all the activity and exertion didn't make you start bleeding anew. <<page_break "..." "nappy">>

<<page_break "..." "training3">>

Hours later—and to the relief of your tired recruits—you're finally interrupted by the arrival of a courier from the Solar Corps, who stares at the red-dotted handkerchief you still have wadded in your hand. After a moment of processing, he blinks and straightens, snapping off a salute. "<<c rank>> <<c surname>>. New mission orders for your squad." He passes you the wax-sealed scroll he's holding, which you unfurl and skim over, feeling your stomach sink slightly with every word. Justyn pauses in his jumping jacks, while Ysa and Cybele drift over, looking apprehensive. "Captain?" <<nobr>><<if ((($cunning >= 50) and ($courage >= 50)) and ($charisma >= 50))>> <<set $teammorale += 3>> You manage to school your expression into one of professional unconcern. <<else>> <<set $teammorale -= 3>> You're not able to keep the look of hesitance and dismay from your face, so you turn away before they notice it, clearing your throat. <</if>><</nobr>> It's a new mission, and it's another one without you. You're probably going to have to get used to it, though you know there are some tasks in your future that you'll get to do together. But for now, your recruits aren't trained enough to tackle and endure the missions that you would normally take; and likewise, your skills and status are too important to waste on the low-ranking assignments that they receive. And yet, this particular assignment still feels… a little too big for them. "It's a Church leader," you say, passing the scroll over to Justyn, who holds it up to the light as if he's trying to examine a forged signature. "Augur Ryse, who leads some sort of abbey somewhere outside of Torsari. He suspects that there are enemies planning an assassination attempt for him, possibly on the next holy day, though there isn't enough proof for him to abandon his 'sacred duty' to perform his rites then." You pause, watching it all register on their faces. Justyn looks like he's going to be sick. "There isn't much information besides that, but you'll be expected to travel to his town in the South and deal with this matter. You're in charge of both protecting the augur and investigating the possible attempt on his life. Ideally, you'll catch the culprits before he's actually placed in any danger." You see Daren opening his mouth to ask what makes this mission the purview of the Shepherds, and you raise a hand for him to wait. "The suspects are either Mage rebels or Endarkened thralls, which means a team of Shepherds is the best answer to the problem. A request for Inquisitors was placed, but it was not answered, and so the assignment fell to our Order." Cybele makes a soft noise of disbelief. "Not even the fuckin' Inquisitors want to take it?" She folds her arms. "How bad a mission <i>is</i> this?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Whatever it is, it's your mission now. You'll just have to deal with it."</div>' 'cybelelooksawayandnods'>><<set $teamdiscipline += 5>><<set $teammorale -= 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"The Inquisitors are likely just busy. Don't think anything of it."</div>' 'cybelelooksawayandnods'>><<set $teammorale += 3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Well, if they were too cowardly to take it, you'll just have to prove how much better you are then them, won't you?"</div>' 'cybelelooksawayandnods'>><<set $teammorale += 5>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

After a moment, Cybele looks away and nods. "You are expected to leave within the next few hours," the Solar Corps courier adds when you don't say anything else. "Time is of the essence for this mission, so a quick departure will be required. Please pack your things and report to the front gate before sundown." You nod at him. "Thank you. That will be all." He clicks his heels together, saluting and staring straight ahead. "Very good, Captain!" To your recruits, he adds, "Good luck, team." <<page_break "..." "deploymission3">>

After he's gone, Daren turns to you with grim dismay stamped on his face. "Your orders, Captain?" You sigh and look around at all of their faces, from Ysa's quiet nervousness to Cybele's anxious fidgeting. They're going to need more of their skills than usual, this time: they'll likely need to rely on their stealth and tactics, to ferret out the assassins, and on their defensive skills, to protect the augur from harm. With that in mind, you need to assign a team leader who's versed well enough in those areas to direct the others. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Daren is in charge."</div>' 'autogenerated_67725'>><<set $inchargeassassin to "daren">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Justyn is in charge."</div>' 'autogenerated_67726'>><<set $inchargeassassin to "justyn">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Cybele is in charge."</div>' 'autogenerated_67727'>><<set $inchargeassassin to "cybele">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Ysa is in charge."</div>' 'autogenerated_67728'>><<set $inchargeassassin to "ysa">><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if ($inchargescholar is "daren")>> "Again," you add. <br><br> <</if>><</nobr>> The Ket officer looks smug while Cybele rolls her eyes. "<i>Greeeat</i>." <<include 'butbeforeyouworry'>>

<<nobr>><<if ($inchargescholar is "justyn")>> "Again," you add. <br><br><</if>><</nobr>> Justyn smiles nervously while Daren folds his arms and huffs. <<include 'butbeforeyouworry'>>

<<nobr>><<if ($inchargescholar is "cybele")>> "Again," you add. <br><br><</if>><</nobr>> Cybele begins to grin while Ysa looks down at the ground, chewing her lip. <<include 'butbeforeyouworry'>>

<<nobr>><<if ($inchargescholar is "ysa")>> "Again," you add. <br><br><</if>><</nobr>> Ysa smiles tentatively while Justyn frowns and looks away. <<include 'butbeforeyouworry'>>

"But before you worry about that," you interrupt, "we're going to train for a bit longer. We have time, especially if you're expected to leave by sundown. And you're going to need all the practice you can get for a mission like this." You try not to let them see the worry in your heart as you say it. At best, they're going to have to fight against an unknown enemy while having the burden of protecting an important authority figure holding them back. It's like what you had to do with Prihine, only ten times worse. And at worst, they're utterly not up to snuff for a task like this and will end up failing, either dying or allowing their charge to be killed—or both. Have you taught them enough to handle something like this? Could you even have, with the time you were given? You shake off the thoughts like a horse brushing away noisome flies. "So. With that being said, we'll train in…" <<include "timetotrain3">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $checkdossier is false>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Look at your recruits' dossiers.</div>' 'dossier'>><<set $checkdossier to true>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Ranged combat. </div>' 'autogenerated_67729'>><<set $darenscoreranged += 10>><<set $ysascoreranged += 10>><<set $justynscoreranged += 10>><<set $cybelescoreranged += 10>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Melee combat.</div>' 'autogenerated_67730'>><<set $darenscoremelee += 10>><<set $ysascoremelee += 10>><<set $justynscoremelee += 10>><<set $cybelescoremelee += 10>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Riding.</div>' 'thankyoucaptain'>><<set $darenscoreriding += 10>><<set $ysascoreriding += 10>><<set $justynscoreriding += 10>><<set $cybelescoreriding += 10>><<setcourage +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Arcana and the supernatural.</div>' 'thankyoucaptain'>><<set $darenscorearcana += 10>><<set $ysascorearcana += 10>><<set $justynscorearcana += 10>><<set $cybelescorearcana += 10>><<setmagic +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Train them in tactics.</div>' 'thankyoucaptain'>><<set $darenscoretactics += 10>><<set $ysascoretactics += 10>><<set $justynscoretactics += 10>><<set $cybelescoretactics += 10>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Train them in diplomacy.</div>' 'thankyoucaptain'>><<set $darenscorediplomacy += 10>><<set $ysascorediplomacy += 10>><<set $justynscorediplomacy += 10>><<set $cybelescorediplomacy += 10>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Train them in offense.</div>' 'thankyoucaptain'>><<setcourage +1>><<set $darenscoreoffense += 10>><<set $ysascoreoffense += 10>><<set $justynscoreoffense += 10>><<set $cybelescoreoffense += 10>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Train them in defense.</div>' 'thankyoucaptain'>><<setcunning +1>><<set $darenscoredefense += 10>><<set $ysascoredefense += 10>><<set $justynscoredefense += 10>><<set $cybelescoredefense += 10>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Train them in stealth.</div>' 'thankyoucaptain'>><<setcunning +3>><<set $darenscorestealth += 10>><<set $ysascorestealth += 10>><<set $justynscoredefense += 10>><<set $cybelescoredefense += 10>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if ($mainweapon is "bow")>> <<setbow +3>> <<setstrength +1>> <<elseif ($mainweapon is "gun")>> <<setgun +3>> <<setstrength +1>> <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'thankyoucaptain'>>

<<nobr>><<if $mainweapon is "sword">> <<setsword +3>> <<setstrength +1>> <</if>> <<if $mainweapon is "dagger">> <<setdagger +3>> <<setstrength +1>> <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'thankyoucaptain'>>

Your team salutes you. "Thank you, <<c rank>>!" For once, they don't complain about the extra training—they even thanked you. You try not to let it feel like an omen, or like a last goodbye. <<page_break "..." "waittrain">>

You spend the next few hours training your recruits before they have to hurry back to their rooms and pack. Before you know it, they're gone… And now you can only wait for them to return. You wash up and ponder what you're going to do with the rest of your time off… <<include "mission2">>

<<nobr>><<if $inchargeassassin is "justyn">> <<if ($justynscorestealth >= 80) and ($justynscoretactics >= 84) and ($justynscoredefense >= 85)>> <<set $recruitsmission to "assassinsuccess">> <<else>> <<set $recruitsmission to "assassinfail">> <</if>> <<elseif $inchargeassassin is "daren">> <<if ($darenscorestealth >= 80) and ($darenscoretactics >= 84) and ($darenscoredefense >= 85)>> <<set $recruitsmission to "assassinsuccess">> <<else>> <<set $recruitsmission to "assassinfail">> <</if>> <<elseif $inchargeassassin is "cybele">> <<if ($cybelescorestealth >= 80) and ($cybelescoretactics >= 84) and ($cybelescoredefense >= 85)>> <<set $recruitsmission to "assassinsuccess">> <<else>> <<set $recruitsmission to "assassinfail">> <</if>> <<else>> <<if ($ysascorestealth >= 80) and ($ysascoretactics >= 84) and ($ysascoredefense >= 85)>> <<set $recruitsmission to "assassinsuccess">> <<else>> <<set $recruitsmission to "assassinfail">> <</if>> <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "trainingover">>

<<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "dayoff">><<set $checkdossier to false>><</link>>

<<nobr>> <<if $dayoff is 0>> <<set $dayoffclock to 5>> <<elseif $dayoff is 1>> <<set $dayoffclock to 4>> <<elseif $dayoff is 2>> <<set $dayoffclock to 3>> <<elseif $dayoff is 3>> <<set $dayoffclock to 2>> <<elseif $dayoff is 4>> <<set $dayoffclock to 1>> <<elseif $dayoff >= 5>> <<set $dayoffclock to 0>> <</if>> <div class="dayoff_holder"> <<map_holder $mapConfigs.haven_map_embedded "haven-map">> <div class="day-clock">$dayoffclock</div> <<include "dayofftime">> </div> <</nobr>>

<<if settings.music is true>><<if isPlaying("city")>><<else>><<audio ":playing" stop>><<audio "city" volume 0.3 play>><</if>><</if>> <<if $visitingdayofffirsttime is true>><<set $visitingdayofffirsttime to false>><<run Dialog.setup("Tutorial"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("dayofftutorial1").processText()); Dialog.open();>> <</if>> <<if $dayoff gte 5 and $part < 5>> <<goto 'dayoffover'>> <<elseif $dayoff gte 5 and $part >= 5 and $seconddayoff is false>> <<goto "day1over">> <<elseif $dayoff gte 5 and $part >= 5 and $seconddayoff is true>> <<goto "day2over">> <<else>> <<include "dayoffchoices">> <</if>>

<div class="dayoff_holder" data-type="over"><div class="day-clock" data-type="over">0</div></div> <br><br> <center>Your first day off is over.</center> <br> <br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Begin Second Day</span></div></div>' "dayoff">><<set $dayoff to 0>><<set $seconddayoff to true>><</link>></center>

<<audio ":playing" fadeoverto 5 0>><div class="dayoff_holder" data-type="over"><div class="day-clock" data-type="over">0</div></div> <br><br> <center>Your second day off is over.</center> <br> <br> <<if $part is 1>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "dayoff1over">><<set $bladespent to false, $troublespent to false, $tallysspent to false, $sheryspent to false, $rielspent to false, $chasespent to false, $redspent to false, $aylaspent to false, $halekspent to false, $brionyspent to false, $lavinetspent to false, $cainespent to false, $mimirspent to false, $dayoff to 0, $revisitshop to false, $newspaperspent to false, $roomspent to false, $shopspent to false, $recruitspent to false, $commanderspent to false, $strengthspent to false, $magicspent to false, $magictime to 0, $strengthtime to 0, $parttimespent to false, $questspent to false, $gamblingspent to false, $prayspent to false, $seconddayoff to false>><</link>></center> <<elseif $part is 2>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "dayoff2over">><<set $bladespent to false, $troublespent to false, $tallysspent to false, $sheryspent to false, $rielspent to false, $chasespent to false, $redspent to false, $aylaspent to false, $halekspent to false, $brionyspent to false, $lavinetspent to false, $cainespent to false, $mimirspent to false, $dayoff to 0, $revisitshop to false, $newspaperspent to false, $roomspent to false, $shopspent to false, $recruitspent to false, $commanderspent to false, $strengthspent to false, $magicspent to false, $magictime to 0, $strengthtime to 0, $parttimespent to false, $questspent to false, $gamblingspent to false, $prayspent to false, $seconddayoff to false>><</link>></center> <<elseif $part is 3>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "dayoff3over">><<set $bladespent to false, $troublespent to false, $tallysspent to false, $sheryspent to false, $rielspent to false, $chasespent to false, $redspent to false, $aylaspent to false, $halekspent to false, $brionyspent to false, $lavinetspent to false, $cainespent to false, $mimirspent to false, $dayoff to 0, $revisitshop to false, $newspaperspent to false, $roomspent to false, $shopspent to false, $recruitspent to false, $commanderspent to false, $strengthspent to false, $magicspent to false, $magictime to 0, $strengthtime to 0, $parttimespent to false, $questspent to false, $gamblingspent to false, $prayspent to false, $seconddayoff to false>><</link>></center> <<elseif $part is 4>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "dayoff4over">><<set $bladespent to false, $troublespent to false, $tallysspent to false, $sheryspent to false, $rielspent to false, $chasespent to false, $redspent to false, $aylaspent to false, $halekspent to false, $brionyspent to false, $lavinetspent to false, $cainespent to false, $mimirspent to false, $dayoff to 0, $revisitshop to false, $newspaperspent to false, $roomspent to false, $shopspent to false, $recruitspent to false, $commanderspent to false, $strengthspent to false, $magicspent to false, $magictime to 0, $strengthtime to 0, $parttimespent to false, $questspent to false, $gamblingspent to false, $prayspent to false, $seconddayoff to false>><</link>></center> <<elseif $part is 5>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "dayoff5over">><<set $bladespent to false, $troublespent to false, $tallysspent to false, $sheryspent to false, $rielspent to false, $chasespent to false, $redspent to false, $aylaspent to false, $halekspent to false, $brionyspent to false, $lavinetspent to false, $cainespent to false, $mimirspent to false, $dayoff to 0, $revisitshop to false, $newspaperspent to false, $roomspent to false, $shopspent to false, $recruitspent to false, $commanderspent to false, $strengthspent to false, $magicspent to false, $magictime to 0, $strengthtime to 0, $parttimespent to false, $questspent to false, $gamblingspent to false, $prayspent to false, $seconddayoff to false>><</link>></center> <<elseif $part is 6>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "dayoff6over">><<set $bladespent to false, $troublespent to false, $tallysspent to false, $sheryspent to false, $rielspent to false, $chasespent to false, $redspent to false, $aylaspent to false, $halekspent to false, $brionyspent to false, $lavinetspent to false, $cainespent to false, $mimirspent to false, $dayoff to 0, $revisitshop to false, $newspaperspent to false, $roomspent to false, $shopspent to false, $recruitspent to false, $commanderspent to false, $strengthspent to false, $magicspent to false, $magictime to 0, $strengthtime to 0, $parttimespent to false, $questspent to false, $gamblingspent to false, $prayspent to false, $seconddayoff to false>><</link>></center> <<elseif $part is 7>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "dayoff7over">><<set $bladespent to false, $troublespent to false, $tallysspent to false, $sheryspent to false, $rielspent to false, $chasespent to false, $redspent to false, $aylaspent to false, $halekspent to false, $brionyspent to false, $lavinetspent to false, $cainespent to false, $mimirspent to false, $dayoff to 0, $revisitshop to false, $newspaperspent to false, $roomspent to false, $shopspent to false, $recruitspent to false, $commanderspent to false, $strengthspent to false, $magicspent to false, $magictime to 0, $strengthtime to 0, $parttimespent to false, $questspent to false, $gamblingspent to false, $prayspent to false, $seconddayoff to false>><</link>></center> <<elseif $part is 8>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "dayoff8over">><<set $bladespent to false, $troublespent to false, $tallysspent to false, $sheryspent to false, $rielspent to false, $chasespent to false, $redspent to false, $aylaspent to false, $halekspent to false, $brionyspent to false, $lavinetspent to false, $cainespent to false, $mimirspent to false, $dayoff to 0, $revisitshop to false, $newspaperspent to false, $roomspent to false, $shopspent to false, $recruitspent to false, $commanderspent to false, $strengthspent to false, $magicspent to false, $magictime to 0, $strengthtime to 0, $parttimespent to false, $questspent to false, $gamblingspent to false, $prayspent to false, $seconddayoff to false>><</link>></center> <<elseif $part is 9>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "dayoff9over">><<set $bladespent to false, $troublespent to false, $tallysspent to false, $sheryspent to false, $rielspent to false, $chasespent to false, $redspent to false, $aylaspent to false, $halekspent to false, $brionyspent to false, $lavinetspent to false, $cainespent to false, $mimirspent to false, $dayoff to 0, $revisitshop to false, $newspaperspent to false, $roomspent to false, $shopspent to false, $recruitspent to false, $commanderspent to false, $strengthspent to false, $magicspent to false, $magictime to 0, $strengthtime to 0, $parttimespent to false, $questspent to false, $gamblingspent to false, $prayspent to false, $seconddayoff to false>><</link>></center> <<elseif $part is 10>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "dayoff10over">><<set $bladespent to false, $troublespent to false, $tallysspent to false, $sheryspent to false, $rielspent to false, $chasespent to false, $redspent to false, $aylaspent to false, $halekspent to false, $brionyspent to false, $lavinetspent to false, $cainespent to false, $mimirspent to false, $dayoff to 0, $revisitshop to false, $newspaperspent to false, $roomspent to false, $shopspent to false, $recruitspent to false, $commanderspent to false, $strengthspent to false, $magicspent to false, $magictime to 0, $strengthtime to 0, $parttimespent to false, $questspent to false, $gamblingspent to false, $prayspent to false, $seconddayoff to false>><</link>></center> <</if>>

<br><div class="choices"> <<if $newspaperspent is false>><<link '<div class="newspaper-item">I\'ll read the newspaper.</div>' 'newspaperintro'>><<set $newspaper +=1, $newspaperspent to true>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="room-item">I\'ll visit my room. </div>' 'room'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="shopping-item">I\'ll go shopping. </div>' 'chandry'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="companion-item">I\'ll spend some time with a companion. [<i class="fas fa-hourglass-half"></i>]</div>'>><<toggleclass "#companionlist" "hide">><</link>> <div id="companionlist" class="hide"><span class="fancylist"><span class="nohighlight"> <<if $bladespent is false and $bladehate is false>> &emsp;&emsp; ✧   [[Blade|blade][$bladespent to true, $dayoff += 1]]<br> <<else>><<link '<div class="inactive">&emsp;&emsp; <i class="fas fa-times"></i>   Blade</div>'>><</link>> <</if>> <<if $troublespent is false and $troublehate is false>> &emsp;&emsp; ✧   [[Trouble|trouble][$troublespent to true, $dayoff += 1]]<br> <<else>><<link '<div class="inactive">&emsp;&emsp; <i class="fas fa-times"></i>   Trouble</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $tallysspent is false and $tallyshate is false>> &emsp;&emsp; ✧   [[Tallys|tallys][$tallysspent to true, $dayoff += 1]]<br> <<else>><<link '<div class="inactive">&emsp;&emsp; <i class="fas fa-times"></i>   Tallys</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $sheryhate is false and $sheryspent is false>>&emsp;&emsp; ✧   [[Shery|shery][$sheryspent to true, $dayoff += 1]]<br> <<else>><<link '<div class="inactive">&emsp;&emsp; <i class="fas fa-times"></i>   Shery</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $rieljoin is true>> <<if $rielhate is false and $rielspent is false>>&emsp;&emsp; ✧   [[Riel|riel][$rielspent to true, $dayoff += 1]]<br> <<else>><<link '<div class="inactive">&emsp;&emsp; <i class="fas fa-times"></i>   Riel</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <</if>> <<if $chasejoin is true>> <<if $chasehate is false and $chasespent is false>>&emsp;&emsp; ✧   [[Chase|chase][$chasespent to true, $dayoff += 1]]<br> <<else>><<link '<div class="inactive">&emsp;&emsp; <i class="fas fa-times"></i>   Chase</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <</if>> <<if $redjoin is true>> <<if $redhate is false and $redspent is false>>&emsp;&emsp; ✧   [[Red|red][$redspent to true, $dayoff += 1]]<br> <<else>><<link '<div class="inactive">&emsp;&emsp; <i class="fas fa-times"></i>   Red</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <</if>> <<if $aylajoin is true>> <<if $aylahate is false and $aylaspent is false>>&emsp;&emsp; ✧   [[Ayla|ayla][$aylaspent to true, $dayoff += 1]]<br> <<else>><<link '<div class="inactive">&emsp;&emsp; <i class="fas fa-times"></i>   Ayla</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <</if>> <<if $halekjoin is true>> <<if $halekspent is false>>&emsp;&emsp; ✧   [[Halek|halek][$halekspent to true, $dayoff += 1]]<br> <<else>><<link '<div class="inactive">&emsp;&emsp; <i class="fas fa-times"></i>   Halek</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <</if>> <<if $brionyjoin is true>> <<if $brionyhate is false and $brionyspent is false>>&emsp;&emsp; ✧   [[Briony|briony][$brionyspent to true, $dayoff += 1]]<br> <<else>><<link '<div class="inactive">&emsp;&emsp; <i class="fas fa-times"></i>   Briony</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <</if>> <<if $lavinetjoin is true>> <<if $lavinethate is false and $lavinetspent is false>>&emsp;&emsp; ✧   [[Lavinet|lavinet][$lavinetspent to true, $dayoff += 1]]<br> <<else>><<link '<div class="inactive">&emsp;&emsp; <i class="fas fa-times"></i>   Lavinet</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <</if>> <<if $mimirjoin is true>> <<if $mimirspent is false>>&emsp;&emsp; ✧   [[Mimir|mimir][$mimirspent to true, $dayoff += 1]]<br> <<else>><<link '<div class="inactive">&emsp;&emsp; <i class="fas fa-times"></i>   Mimir</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <</if>> <<if $cainejoin is true>> <<if $cainespent is false>>&emsp;&emsp; ✧   [[Caine|caine][$cainespent to true, $dayoff += 1]]<br> <<else>><<link '<div class="inactive">&emsp;&emsp; <i class="fas fa-times"></i>   Caine</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <</if>> </span></span></div> <<if ($rank is "Captain" or $rank is "Commander") and $part >= 5 and $recruitspent is false>><<link '<div class="recruit-item">I\'ll train my squad of recruits. [<i class="fas fa-hourglass-half"></i>]</div>' 'training'>><<set $dayoff +=1, $recruitspent to true, $trainingtime += 1>><</link>><</if>> <<if $rank is "Commander" and $commanderspent is false>><<link '<div class="command-item">I\'ll take care of some things that need my attention as a commander. [<i class="fas fa-hourglass-half"></i>]</div>' 'command'>><<set $dayoff +=1, $commanderspent to true>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($easymode is true and $strengthtime < 2) or ($easymode is false and $strengthspent is false)>><<link '<div class="strength-item">I\'ll do some strength and weapons training. [<i class="fas fa-hourglass-half"></i>]</div>' 'strength'>><<set $dayoff +=1, $strengthspent to true>><<setstrength +10>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($easymode is true and $magictime < 2) or ($easymode is false and $magicspent is false)>><<link '<div class="magic-item">I\'ll study magic and spell-casting. [<i class="fas fa-hourglass-half"></i>]</div>' 'magic'>><<set $dayoff +=1, $magicspent to true>><<setmagic +10>><</link>><</if>> <<if $parttimespent is false>><<link '<div class="parttime-item">I\'ll run a few errands to earn some extra gold. [<i class="fas fa-hourglass-half"></i>]</div>' 'parttime'>><<set $dayoff +=1, $parttimespent to true>><</link>><</if>> <<if $queststart is true>><<link '<div class="quest-item">I\'ll check the quests board for new jobs and quests. </div>' 'Quests'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $part >= 5 and $gambling is true and $gamblingspent is false>><<link '<div class="gamble-item">I\'ll gamble for some extra gold. [<i class="fas fa-hourglass-half"></i>]</div>' 'gambling'>><<set $dayoff +=1, $gamblingspent to true>><</link>><</if>> <<if $prayspent is false>><<link '<div class="pray-item">I\'ll take a moment to pray. [<i class="fas fa-hourglass-half"></i>]</div>' 'pray'>><<set $dayoff +=1, $prayspent to true>><<setfaith +10>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="rest-item">I\'ll rest until the end of the day. [<i class="fas fa-hourglass-half"></i>]</div>' 'rest'>><<set $dayoff +=5>><</link>> </div>

<<set _statpool to 10>> <<set _swordpool to 0>> <<set _bowpool to 0>> <<set _daggerpool to 0>> <<set _gunpool to 0>> <<if settings.notifications is true>><<notify 5s>><span class="fas fa-fist-raised"></span> Physique Increased!<</notify>><</if>> You spend some time training and strengthening your muscles in the Shepherds' gym. Your mind goes blank as you lose yourself in the clean, energizing rhythms of lifting weights and striking practice dummies… <br><br> As a result, your physique increases! <br><br> Finally, you turn to the weapons rack. Along with general physical training, you can choose to hone your skills with specific kinds of weapons. What techniques will you refine today? <br><br> <center> You have <span id="stat-pool">_statpool</span> remaining points to allocate. </center> <br> <<numberpool "_statpool">> <center> <label> Swordsmanship</label> <br> <<numberinput "_swordpool" _swordpool 0 10>> <br><br> <label>Knifework </label> <br> <<numberinput "_daggerpool" _daggerpool 0 10>> <br><br> <label>Gunslinging </label> <br> <<numberinput "_gunpool" _gunpool 0 10>> <br><br> <label>Archery </label> <br> <<numberinput "_bowpool" _bowpool 0 10>> </center> <<onchange>> <<replace "#stat-pool">>_statpool<</replace>> <</numberpool>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "trainingpartner">> <<set $sword to ($sword + _swordpool)>><<if $sword > 100>><<set $sword to 100>><</if>> <<set $dagger to ($dagger + _daggerpool)>><<if $dagger > 100>><<set $dagger to 100>><</if>> <<set $gun to ($gun + _gunpool)>><<if $gun > 100>><<set $gun to 100>><</if>> <<set $bow to ($bow + _bowpool)>><<if $bow > 100>><<set $bow to 100>><</if>> <</link>></center>

<<set _trainingpartner to random(1,15)>> <<if _trainingpartner is 1 and $tallyshate is false>> <<settallys +1>> After a little while Tallys walks in, holding a lightweight quarterstaff. She appraises you for a moment before moving closer. "I need practice, as well. I hope you don't mind if I join you?" <br><br> The two of you train together for some time… <<elseif _trainingpartner is 2 and $troublehate is false>> <<settrouble +1>> After a little while Trouble walks in, looking a little sheepish. "I'm great at shooting, a bit shit at close combat," he admits. "Mind if I join you?" <br><br> The two of you train together for some time… <<elseif _trainingpartner is 3 and $bladehate is false>> <<setblade +1>> After a little while Blade walks in, casting a critical eye over the training recruits. He watches you for a moment with a hint of smile. "You've improved," he says finally, stepping in. "Care to show me what you've learned?" <br><br> The two of you train together for some time… <<elseif _trainingpartner is 4 and $sheryhate is false>> <<setshery +1>> After a little while you espy Shery shuffling in, clutching a clipboard to her chest as she watches the sparring matches and bouts taking place all around the room. "Don't mind me," she tells you with a shy smile. "I'm just observing and making sure no one pushes themselves too far. Shepherd officers have a propensity for over-training!" <br><br> She watches as you train for some time... <<elseif _trainingpartner is 5 and $chasejoin is true and $chasehate is false>> <<setchase +1>> After a little while Chase saunters in, his posture lolling and insouciant. He begins to stretch and remarks casually, "Thought I'd fit in some training for once. Gotta keep nice and limber, you know? The day the Thief-Lord gets rusty is the day the Thieves Guild is in for a nasty time. Care to dance for a bit?" <br><br> The two of you train together for some time... <<elseif _trainingpartner is 6 and $rieljoin is true and $rielhate is false>> <<setriel +1>> After a little while Riel steps in, his demeanor sharp and exacting as he watches the sparring matches and bouts around the room with the gimlet eye of an auctioneer surveying precious goods. He nods at you and says, "I like to keep myself up to date on the progress of our officers and make sure there aren't any liabilities we're missing." His mouth quirks slightly as he adds, "Of course, I'm not worried about <i>you</i>. Pretend I'm not here." <br><br> He watches as you train for some time... <<elseif _trainingpartner is 7 and $redjoin is true and $redhate is false>> <<setred +1>> After a little while Red strolls in, stretching his long, lanky frame and cracking his back as he twists his upper body with a groan. "I've been falling behind on my physical training," he admits to you sheepishly. "Too much reading and bending over my desk... Care to spar a bit so I can get back up to speed?" <br><br> The two of you train together for some time... <<elseif _trainingpartner is 8 and $aylajoin is true and $aylahate is false>> After a little while Ayla walks in, casually twirling her large quarterstaff and whistling tunelessly. From the sheen of sweat on her brow and bare collarbones, she's already been training for some time. She cocks an eyebrow at you, then grins fiercely. "Training too, huh? Want to go a few rounds?" <br><br> The two of you train together for some time... <<elseif _trainingpartner is 9 and $brionyjoin is true and $brionyhate is false>> After a little while Briony walks in, turning to stretch her leg against the wall and rotating her shoulders to loosen up. She sends a bright smile your way and exclaims, "<<c firstname>>! Want to spar? I promise I won't destroy anything this time..." She glances ruefully at a corner of shattered practice dummies. "I do better with live partners." <br><br> The two of you train together for some time... <<elseif _trainingpartner is 10 and $lavinetjoin is true and $lavinethate is false>> After a little while Lavinet glides in, taking up a formal riposte position with her rapier. She arches an elegant brow at you. "Well?" she asks expectantly. "Care to train together? I promise you will not have to go easy on me." <br><br> The two of you train together for some time... <<elseif (_trainingpartner is 11 and $rank is "Captain") or (_trainingpartner is 11 and $rank is "Commander") and $trainingtime >= 1>> You end up running into your recruits and have an extracurricular training session with them. You beat them handily, but your skills still improve. <<else>> Your fighting skills have improved immensely! <</if>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Finish</span></div></div>' "dayoff">><<set $strengthtime += 1>><</link>></center>

<<set _statpool to 10>> <<set _astralpool to 0>> <<set _psionicpool to 0>> <<set _arcanepool to 0>> <<if settings.notifications is true>><<notify 5s>><span class="fas fa-hand-sparkles"></span> Magic Increased!<</notify>><</if>> The Shepherds' small library has been stocked with more magical tomes and texts—doubtless contraband that Shery has managed to scrounge up from the Vaults. Here you'll be able to pick up some useful spells and recondite techniques from the Mages of old... <br><br> As a result, you feel your mastery over magic increasing! <br><br> Along with training your general skills in magic, you can also pursue your studies within specific schools and specializations. You spend hours exploring the aetheric energies of astral magic, taking psionic dives into the depths of the mind, and unraveling the byzantine, arcane secrets of old... <br><br> <center> You have <span id="stat-pool">_statpool</span> remaining points to allocate. </center> <br> <<numberpool "_statpool">> <center> <label> <span class="entrylink"><<link "Astral">> <<run Dialog.setup("Astral Magic"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("astraltutorialdayoff").processText()); Dialog.open();>><</link>></span></label> <br> <<numberinput "_astralpool" _astralpool 0 10>> <br><br> <label> <span class="entrylink"><<link "Psionic">><<run Dialog.setup("Psionic Magic"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("psionictutorialdayoff").processText()); Dialog.open();>><</link>></span> </label> <br> <<numberinput "_psionicpool" _psionicpool 0 10>> <br><br> <label> <span class="entrylink"><<link "Arcane">><<run Dialog.setup("Arcane Magic"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("arcanetutorialdayoff").processText()); Dialog.open();>><</link>></span> </label> <br> <<numberinput "_arcanepool" _arcanepool 0 10>> </center> <<onchange>> <<replace "#stat-pool">>_statpool<</replace>> <</numberpool>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Finish</span></div></div>' "dayoff">> <<set $astral to ($astral + _astralpool)>><<if $astral > 100>><<set $astral to 100>><</if>> <<set $psionic to ($psionic + _psionicpool)>><<if $psionic > 100>><<set $psionic to 100>><</if>> <<set $arcane to ($arcane + _arcanepool)>><<if $arcane > 100>><<set $arcane to 100>><</if>><<set $magictime += 1>> <</link>></center>

<i>You lose yourself in compendiums that seem to whisper the secrets of the ages to you, sharpening your mind to a keen, mirror-bright blade… </i> Psionic magic is magic involving the mind and psychic energies. Wild magic, Enchantment, and Divination fall under its umbrella. <center><<button 'Return'>><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>></center>

<i>You lose yourself in the obscure and esoteric scripts of the arcane masters of the past, feeling your way through labyrinthine corridors of power of which you can barely scratch the surface…</i> Arcane magic is magic that deals with laws, calculations, and formulae, often involving rituals, runes, elixirs, and the occult. It most often affects time, matter, or space. Shifting, Conjuring, and Binding magic fall under its umbrella. <center><<button 'Return'>><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>></center>

<i>You lose yourself in the pages of spellbooks thrumming with power and hidden life, their raw vibrancy streaking hotly through your blood like starbursts…</i> Astral magic is magic that manipulates the aetheric energies of the universe. Battle magic, Healing, and Elementalism fall under its umbrella. <center><<button 'Return'>><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>></center>

There are several small jobs you could pick up in order to earn some extra gold. However, you can't use magic to perform any of them, since using your powers is only sanctioned in the case of your official Shepherd work. Which job will you do? <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'I\'ll do some manual labor for a warehouse in Smoketown.' 'parttimepay'>><<setstrength +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'I\'ll fill in as a server in a tavern in Whitestone.' 'parttimepay'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'I\'ll handle the stock and inventory for a bookshop in the Market Quarter.' 'parttimepay'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'I\'ll serve as the referee for illegal gambling matches in Ashtown.' 'parttimepay'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'I\'ll go back to doing some simple bodyguard work within the city.' 'parttimepay'>><<setcourage +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

<<set _payroll to random(0,10)>> <<if _payroll is 1>> <<if settings.notifications is true>><<notify 5s>><span class="fas fa-coins"></span> +2 Gold <</notify>> <</if>> You made ten lyss for a few hours' work! <<elseif _payroll is 2>> <<if settings.notifications is true>><<notify 5s>><span class="fas fa-coins"></span> +4 Gold <</notify>> <</if>> You made twenty lyss for a few hours' work! <<elseif _payroll is 3>> <<if settings.notifications is true>><<notify 5s>><span class="fas fa-coins"></span> +6 Gold <</notify>> <</if>> You made thirty lyss for a few hours' work! <<elseif _payroll is 4>> <<if settings.notifications is true>><<notify 5s>><span class="fas fa-coins"></span> +8 Gold <</notify>> <</if>> You made forty lyss for a few hours' work! <<elseif _payroll is 5>> <<if settings.notifications is true>><<notify 5s>><span class="fas fa-coins"></span> +10 Gold <</notify>> <</if>> You made fifty lyss for a few hours' work! <<elseif _payroll is 6>> <<if settings.notifications is true>><<notify 5s>><span class="fas fa-coins"></span> +12 Gold <</notify>> <</if>> You made sixty lyss for a few hours' work! <<elseif _payroll is 7>> <<if settings.notifications is true>><<notify 5s>><span class="fas fa-coins"></span> +14 Gold <</notify>> <</if>> You made seventy lyss for a few hours' work! <<elseif _payroll is 8>> <<if settings.notifications is true>><<notify 5s>><span class="fas fa-coins"></span> +16 Gold <</notify>> <</if>> You made eighty lyss for a few hours' work! <<elseif _payroll is 9>> <<if settings.notifications is true>><<notify 5s>><span class="fas fa-coins"></span> +1 Gold <</notify>> <</if>> You made five measly lyss... You suppose that's something. <<else>> <<if settings.notifications is true>><<notify 5s>><span class="fas fa-coins"></span> +20 Gold <</notify>> <</if>> Wow! You made a hundred lyss for a few hours' work! <</if>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Finish</span></div></div>' "dayoff">> <<if _payroll is 1>><<set $gold += 2>> <<elseif _payroll is 2>><<set $gold += 4>> <<elseif _payroll is 3>><<set $gold += 6>> <<elseif _payroll is 4>><<set $gold += 8>> <<elseif _payroll is 5>><<set $gold += 10>> <<elseif _payroll is 6>><<set $gold += 12>> <<elseif _payroll is 7>><<set $gold += 14>> <<elseif _payroll is 8>><<set $gold += 16>> <<elseif _payroll is 9>><<set $gold += 1>> <<else>><<set $gold += 20>><</if>> <</link>></center>

<<if isPlaying("church")>><<else>><<audio ":playing" stop>><</if>> <<if settings.music is true>><<if isPlaying("church")>><<else>><<audio "church" volume 0.05 loop play>><</if>><</if>> <<if $belief is "one-god">><<include "onegodprayer">> <<elseif $belief is "oldfaith">><<include "oldfaithprayer">> <<else>> Where will you pray? <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'The Church of the One-God.' 'onegodprayer'>><<setloyal +5>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'A hidden temple for the Old Faith.' 'oldfaithprayer'>><<set $belief to "oldfaith">><<set $god to "gods">><<setloyal -3>><<setcourage +2>><</link>></li> </ul> <</if>>

<<if $churchvisit is 0>> <<set $belief to "one-god">><<set $god to "God">>The Church in Ashtown is quite different from the Church in Whitestone, where Prihine held her wedding. Here the pews are dusty and cracked, gold paint flaking off the walls like dead butterflies' wings. The One-God is not so popular in "Witchtown," surrounded by teeming hordes of resentful Diminished—but Xer Church is still a place of quiet and safety for you. <br><br> You sit down at a bench in front of a statue of the One-God, a powerful golden entity who transcends as well as encompasses both gender and race. You clasp your palms together in the customary gesture of prayer. As always, the statue emanates warmth, as if it's been sitting in the sun for a long time. As you let your mind fall into the customary benevolence of its gaze, you reach out to the One-God for… <<include "onegodprayer2">> <<elseif $churchvisit gte 1 and $churchvisit lt 6>> The church is empty as usual, save for a few scattered worshippers sitting alone in their dusty pews. You notice that today there is something huddled around the base of the One-God's statue. As you look closer, you realize that a few animal carcasses have been scattered around the feet of the One-God. Sacrifices, you realize as you sit down with a shudder. Perhaps people are attributing the waning demonic activity—caused by the Shepherds—to the animal sacrifices they've been encouraged to make to the One-God. <br><br> You try to shake the sight of the dead little bodies from your mind. You close your eyes and reach out to the One-God for… <<include "onegodprayer2">> <<elseif $churchvisit is 6 and $hierophanttruth is true>> The church is empty as usual, but you note that there are no longer any blood sacrifices lying around the building. No bowls of blood, no dead animals. It seems that the truth about the Western Hierophant has reached Haven's churches. There's some graffiti on the base of the One-God's statue, faded but poorly-removed: <br><br> <center><span class="crazy"> THE BONES OF THE CHURCH ARE LIES <br> AND THE BLOOD IS POISON </span></center> <br> You turn away. Close your eyes. Your mind reaches out to the One-God for… <<include "onegodprayer2">> <<elseif $churchvisit is 7 and $hierophanttruth is true>> The church is empty as usual, and that damn message is still on the base of the One-God statue. <br><br> <center><span class="crazy">THE BONES OF THE CHURCH ARE LIES <br> AND THE BLOOD IS POISON </span></center> <br> For some reason, your gorge rises, and the scent of sick fills your nose and mouth. Why hasn't anyone fucking removed those blasphemous words? Do the augurs just not care? Or are they just as disillusioned with the Church as their congregation? And why does it all make you so angry? <ul class="choices"> <li><<link "It\'s because I still love the One-God, and it disheartens me to see people losing their faith because of a demon." "dontlosefaithintheonegod">><<fair_plus "$faith" +50>><</link>></li> <li><<link "It\'s because I faced doubts, too, but I addressed them and came out just as faithful. My faith isn\'t poisonous or a lie." "addressedfaithinonegod">><<fair_plus "$faith" +25>><</link>></li> <li><<link "It\'s because... my faith has been shaken, too. Seeing these messages just makes it worse. I\'m not totally sure the One-God truly exists anymore." "questioningonegod">><<fair_plus "$faith" -25>><<set $belief to "questioning">><</link>></li> <li><<link "It\'s because I\'ve realized I\'ve stopped believing in the One-God, too. I agree with these words, and that makes me both sad and angry." "onegodtoatheist">><<fair_plus "$faith" -90>><<set $belief to "atheist">><</link>></li> </ul> <<elseif $churchvisit gte 8 and $hierophanttruth is true>> You sigh in relief. The base of the One-God statue has finally been replaced, meaning the heinous message defacing it is also gone. And it might just be your imagination, but it seems there are more churchgoers filling the pew than there have been for the last several weeks. Could the people's faith be more resilient than it seemed at first glance? Spirits buoyed, you close your eyes and reach for... <<include "onegodprayer2">> <<elseif $churchvisit is 6 and $hierophanttruth is false>> The church still has dead animals littering the ground. The bowls of blood are still there, the offerings as fervent and devout as ever before. Your stomach heaves, and you have to close your eyes and turn away. The air smells of death. <br><br> Your mind reaches out to the One-God for… <<include "onegodprayer2">> <<elseif $churchvisit is 7 and $hierophanttruth is false>> The animal sacrifices are still here. You have to stop yourself from overturning the bowls of blood, flinging them at the walls, shouting that it's all lies. You feel the scream well up your throat and clench it back behind your teeth. <br><br> Calming your breathing and your racing heart, you grope for a connection to the One-God. You just need… <<include "onegodprayer2">> <<elseif $churchvisit gte 8 and $hierophanttruth is false>> The animal sacrifices still litter the main altar, but they've seemed to have decreased in number. Maybe people are beginning to realize naturally that they don't seem to work? The One-God hasn't appeared as a reward, <<if $part lt 8>> and the Autarch grows weaker by the day. <<else>> and the Autarch has passed away.<</if>> <br><br> You turn away and close your eyes, reaching out for… <<include "onegodprayer2">> <<elseif $belief is "agnostic" or $belief is "questioning">> You grimace as the cold stone presses against your knees, kneeling in front of the statue of the One-God. You're still not totally sure where you stand on the issue of Xer existing, but praying still offers you a measure of comfort and peace. <br><br> You reach out for… <<include "onegodprayer2">> <<elseif $belief is "atheist" or $belief is "oldfaith">> You look up at the blank, unseeing eyes of the One-God and sigh. Why did your steps lead you here? You don't even believe in any of this… <ul class="choices"> <<fake_choice "Still. It doesn\'t hurt anybody to pray, does it?" "doesnthurttopray">> <<fake_choice "What are you even doing here? You need to go. This is no place for a non-believer." "noplaceforanonbeliever">> </ul> <</if>>

You sigh again and step forward to kneel in front of the statue of the One-God, feeling vaguely embarrassed. It feels like you're acting in a play you don't know the plot of, and the audience is going to know you're just fumbling along. Despite that, you reach out for… <<include "onegodprayer2">>

You turn away, leaving the cold and empty church far behind you, the silent eyes of the carved God watching you as you go. <<page_break "Next" "dayoff">>

That's right. Nothing could change your love of the One-God, and to see people defecting because of such a transparent reason angers you. It's not the Church's fault, it's the Faceless Lord's! You shake off your feelings of anger and kneel before the statue, ignoring the lurid words that stare at you at face-level. You clear your thoughts and reach out for… <<include "onegodprayer2">>

After the revelation of the Faceless Lord and how easily he manipulated the Church and its believers, you suffered a crisis of faith. But you emerged with that faith just as strong as before. The Church is manned by people who are, by nature, flawed. That's not counting the interference of demons. Whatever the institution does, nothing changes the goodness of the One-God Xerself. You shake off your feelings of anger and kneel before the statue, ignoring the lurid words that stare at you at face-level. You clear your thoughts and reach out for… <<include "onegodprayer2">>

It's understandable: how can you believe in the sanctity and goodness of the One-God when it's just been revealed to you how easy it was to manipulate the Church and its believers? A demon was controlling so many of you for so long. What else has the Church lied about? Does the One-God exist at all, or is Xe just a tool of the Autarchy to control the masses? Bile rises in your throat again, and you rise and stumble away. You don't think you can look into those blank, empty eyes and pray today. <<page_break "Next" "dayoff">>

Fuck. You've tried not to think about it, tried to push it down, but you can never escape your true feelings for long. You've lost your faith. How could you not? You were confronted by the fact that it was incredibly easy for a demon to infiltrate the Church. How stupidly simple it was to manipulate thousands—maybe millions—of believers. How could that not make you question the Church and everything it stands for? How many more lies have been spread, without anyone realizing? What if the One-God doesn't exist at all, and Xe is just a tool of the Autarchy to control the masses? Or worse—what if the Church has been a tool of the demons? You have to face the sad truth of it all. The old gods have the excuse of "sleeping," of not being connected to this world anymore. But the One-God is supposed to be watching over you all the time. If Xe really existed and was as all-powerful as they all say, wouldn't Xe have prevented a goddamn Faceless Lord from posing as a Hierophant? Wouldn't Xe have prevented everyone across the Continent from experiencing a crisis of faith? None of it makes sense. Bile rises in your throat again, and you rise and stumble away. You don't think you can look into those blank, empty eyes and pray today. <<page_break "Next" "dayoff">>

<ul class="choices"> <<link '<div class="pray-item">Advice and guidance.</div>' 'churchvisitadd'>><<setintelligence +2>><</link>> <<link '<div class="pray-item">Comfort and protection. </div>' 'churchvisitadd'>><<setloyal +1>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="pray-item">Absolution and forgiveness. </div>' 'churchvisitadd'>><<setcompassionate -2>><</link>> <<link '<div class="pray-item">Strength and resolve. </div>' 'churchvisitadd'>><<setcourage +2>><</link>> </ul>

You spend some time in the silent sanctity of the church. Finally, you rise and bow to the statue of the One-God before leaving. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "dayoff">><<set $churchvisit += 1>><<if $churchvisit is 1>><<notify_codex_religion "The Doctrine of the One">><</if>><</link>></center>

<<if $templevisit is 0>><<notify_codex_religion "The Old Gods">>Although worship of the Old Faith is strictly forbidden and considered heretical, there are more than a few secret temples hidden in "Witchtown" for Diminished who don't want to let go of their heritage. Since you are a Mage, you've been able to find out this information easily enough: a few discreet inquiries here and there have led you to a hideout behind someone's vytas cafe. <br><br> The warm smells of imported coffee and something dark and fruity waft over you as you move through the curtain blocking the entrance to the "temple." In reality it's little more than an abandoned one-room house, but someone has tended to it with care: woven rugs on the floor lend the place a feeling of warmth and security; soft little candles light the space here and there; and statues of the various old gods gaze at you from the shadowy corners of the room. <br><br> In front of you, in the center of the room, there's a large, almost man-sized barrel, filled with thousands of thin, battered coins. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "oldfaithtutorial">><</link>></center> <<elseif $hierophanttruth is true>> You notice that the temple has more offerings than usual today. Perhaps people are turning back to the Old Faith, disillusioned by the lies they've experienced with the Church and the Hierophant… <br><br> Clearing your mind, you step towards the familiar, solid barrel once more. <br><br> <<include "goddraw">> <<elseif $hierophanttruth is false and $part gte 6 and $questioninggods is false>> <<set $questioninggods to true>> You frown as you glance at the offerings scattered around the makeshift temple. For some reason, you feel a sense of unease when you see that someone has laid a dish of the best, shiniest apples at the feet of Narthax, leader of the gods. <br><br> The sense of unease grows. What if such offerings are little better than the animal sacrifices the One-God believers were manipulated into making? What if this is all a charade, as the Hierophant was, and you are merely playacting for an audience of gods who never existed? <ul class="choices"> <li><<link "No... I can\'t waver. I <i>know</i> the gods are out there." "oldfaithrenewed">><<fair_plus "$faith" +50>><</link>></li> <li><<link "Maybe there are things to question, but I don\'t want to live the life of a cynical skeptic. Sometimes you just have to push through doubt: that\'s what faith is." "pushthrougholdfaithdoubt">><<fair_plus "$faith" +25>><</link>></li> <li><<link "Maybe... maybe this is all pointless. I\'m no longer sure." "nolongersureinoldfaith">><<fair_plus "$faith" -20>><<set $belief to "questioning">><</link>></li> <li><<link "Back away. I don\'t think I believe in the gods—any god—any longer." "oldfaithtoatheist">><<fair_plus "$faith" -90>><<set $belief to "atheist">><</link>></li> </ul> <<elseif $belief is "questioning" or $belief is "agnostic">> You look around and sigh. You're not totally sure where you stand on the issue of the gods, but at least drawing the coin is a familiar and comforting ritual. <br><br> <<include "goddraw">> <<elseif $belief is "atheist">> You look around and frown. Why did your steps lead you here? You don't even believe in any of this… <ul class="choices"> <<fake_choice "Still. It doesn\'t hurt anybody to draw a coin, does it?" "doesnthurtanyonetodrawacoin">> <<fake_choice "What are you even doing here? You need to go. This is no place for a non-believer." "noplaceforanonbelieveroldfaith">> </ul> <<elseif $templevisit gte 1>> The temple, as usual, is empty. Only the silent figures of the gods wait for you, as well as their barrel of coins, glinting in the firelight. You let fate and an odd sense of intuition guide you as you close your hand around a coin… <br><br> <<include "goddraw">> <</if>>

Tradition states that you plunge your hand into the barrel and draw out a coin to receive a blessing from one of the old gods. The countenance of the god on the coin you pick will determine who will be watching over you and gracing your endeavors until the next time you draw. You slip your hand into the barrel, feeling the many coins slide and rattle against your palm like cold scales. Letting fate and an odd sense of intuition guide you, you close your hand around a coin… <<include "goddraw">>

You adamantly squash any feelings of uncertainty in your heart and march forward, head held high. Nothing will ever make you doubt the gods again. <<include "goddraw">>

You brush your feelings of doubt aside and approach the barrel of coins. <<include "goddraw">>

For now, you brush aside your feelings of unease and hesitantly approach the barrel of coins. <<include "goddraw">>

You turn away, leaving the cold and empty house far behind you, the silent eyes of the carved gods watching you as you go. <<page_break "Next" "dayoff">>

You sigh and step forward to the barrel of coins, feeling vaguely embarrassed. <<include "goddraw">>

You turn away, leaving the cold and empty house far behind you, the silent eyes of the carven gods watching you as you go. <<page_break "Next" "dayoff">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Draw a Coin</span></div></div>' "goddrawresults">><<set $templevisit += 1>><<set $godcoin to random(0, 16)>><</link>></center>

<<if $godcoin is 0>> You draw a blank coin. A rare occurrence: you've drawn a coin that has been so worn down by time and countless fingers that the face of the god on it is no longer recognizable. This means your fate is in limbo. Anything could happen. <br><br> You drop the coin back into the barrel with a shiver. <br><br> <<page_break "Next" "dayoff">> <<elseif $godcoin is 1>> You draw a coin depicting the Dayspear, Narthax, god of light, truth, and justice. Any investigations or inquiries you make in order to uncover the truth should be particularly blessed. <br><br> You drop the coin back into the barrel and close your eyes to give Nartax thanks. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Return</span></div></div>' "dayoff">><<setcourage +1>><</link>></center> <<elseif $godcoin is 2>> You draw a coin depicting the Pale Mother, Mitna, goddess of the night, moon, and secrets. Your divining spells will be particularly strong for a time, and any endeavors you make in the fertility or family department should be successful. <br><br> …Not that the last part is completely relevant to you at this moment in time. Still, you drop the coin back into the barrel and close your eyes to give thanks to Mitna. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Return</span></div></div>' "dayoff">><<setpsionic +1>><</link>></center> <<elseif $godcoin is 3>> You draw a coin depicting the Moondaughter, Ainue, the goddess of the stars and clouds. You will be perceived as particularly attractive to others for a time. <br><br> You drop the coin back into the barrel and close your eyes to give Ainue thanks. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Return</span></div></div>' "dayoff">><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></center> <<elseif $godcoin is 4>> You draw a coin depicting the Brightburner, Althea, the goddess of the sun, fire, and knowledge. Your intellectual endeavors will be particularly blessed for a time, but you'll have to be careful not to lose your temper. Your magical power has also increased, as Althea is the patron creator of Mages. <br><br> You drop the coin back into the barrel and close your eyes to give Althea thanks. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Return</span></div></div>' "dayoff">><<setmagic +1>><</link>></center> <<elseif $godcoin is 5>> You draw a coin depicting the Green Lady, Bes, the goddess of spring, growth, and the earth. Any forays you make into the wild will be blessed, for a time; Bes will guide you safely to your destination. <br><br> You drop the coin back into the barrel and close your eyes to give Bes thanks. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Return</span></div></div>' "dayoff">><<setastral +1>><</link>></center> <<elseif $godcoin is 6>> You draw a coin depicting the Wildheart, Thimben, god of all living beasts and animals. Any hunts you pursue will be blessed, for a time; Thimben will guide you to your quarry. <br><br> You drop the coin back into the barrel and close your eyes to give Thimben thanks. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Return</span></div></div>' "dayoff">><<setcunning +1>><</link>></center> <<elseif $godcoin is 7>> You draw a coin depicting the Lady of the Waters, Dewi, goddess of water, rivers, and the sea. Any voyages that you make will be blessed, for a time; Dewi will guide you through the storm. <br><br> You drop the coin back into the barrel and close your eyes to give Dewi thanks. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Return</span></div></div>' "dayoff">><<setcourage +1>><</link>></center> <<elseif $godcoin is 8>> You draw a coin depicting the Windracer, Noonfirth, god of the wind and air. Any secrets that you keep will remain safely guarded from discovery, for a time; Noonfirth will keep the wind from bearing them to those who should not hear your words. <br><br> You drop the coin back into the barrel and close your eyes to give Noonfirth thanks. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Return</span></div></div>' "dayoff">><<setcunning +1>><</link>></center> <<elseif $godcoin is 9>> You draw a coin depicting the Stormbringer, Pelinel, goddess of storms, rain, and thunder. Your relationships may be thrown into emotional turmoil for a time, but Pelinel will ensure that things return to calm, tranquility, and even growth by the end. <br><br> You drop the coin back into the barrel and close your eyes to give Pelinel thanks. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Return</span></div></div>' "dayoff">><<setloyal +1>><</link>></center> <<elseif $godcoin is 10>> You draw a coin depicting the Winterfather, Nante, god of winter, snow, and decay. Despair and desperation hover around you, but Nante will keep these harsh conditions at bay if you keep faith and weather the storm. <br><br> You drop the coin back into the barrel and close your eyes to give Nante thanks. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Return</span></div></div>' "dayoff">><<setfaith +1>><</link>></center> <<elseif $godcoin is 11>> You draw a coin depicting the Darkwatcher, Corvus, god of stealth, silence, and death. Choosing silence in the future will benefit you in some way; and although death seems to loom imminent, Corvus will protect you from its sting, guarding you during long and watchful nights. <br><br> You drop the coin back into the barrel and close your eyes to give Corvus thanks. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Return</span></div></div>' "dayoff">><<setloyal -1>><</link>></center> <<elseif $godcoin is 12>> You draw a coin depicting the Swordbearer, Tholjass, god of war, battle, weaponry, and death. Tholjass is watching over your future battles, ensuring a favorable outcome to you in terms of combat. You can feel your strength increasing as you receive his blessing. <br><br> You drop the coin back into the barrel and close your eyes to give Tholjass thanks. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Return</span></div></div>' "dayoff">><<setstrength +1>><</link>></center> <<elseif $godcoin is 13>> You draw a coin depicting the Builder, Ishkur, goddess of invention, architecture, and craftsmanship. Any new projects you start or anything you attempt to build will turn out successful; Ishkur is watching over your work. Your forays into scientific and arcane magic will be particularly blessed. <br><br> You drop the coin back into the barrel and close your eyes to give Ishkur thanks. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Return</span></div></div>' "dayoff">><<setarcane +1>><</link>></center> <<elseif $godcoin is 14>> You draw a coin depicting the Trader, Gu, god of enterprise, business, trade, and travel. Any economic exchanges, purchases, or investments you make will be favorable to you; Gu is watching over your transactions. <br><br> You drop the coin back into the barrel and close your eyes to give Gu thanks. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Return</span></div></div>' "dayoff">><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></center> <<elseif $godcoin is 15>> You draw a coin depicting the Singer, Orgael, god of music, poetry, art, culture, and literature. Any creative endeavors you make will turn out successful, for a time; Orgael is watching over your artistic expression and protecting your sense of creativity. You drop the coin back into the barrel and close your eyes to give Orgael thanks. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Return</span></div></div>' "dayoff">><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></center> <<elseif $godcoin is 16>> You draw a coin depicting the Lover, Hina, the goddess of love, joy, and celebration. Any romantic pursuits or overtures of love that you make will turn out to be successful; Hina is orchestrating your destined match. You drop the coin back into the barrel and close your eyes to give Hina thanks. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Return</span></div></div>' "dayoff">><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></center> <</if>>

You decide to use your remaining time off to [[rest up|refreshed]]. Demon-fighting is hard work…

You feel very refreshed! <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "dayofftime">><</link>></center>

<<audio ":playing" fadeoverto 5 0>> <div class="dayoff_holder" data-type="over"><div class="day-clock" data-type="over">0</div></div> <br><br> <center>Your day off is over.</center> <br> <<if $part is 1>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "dayoff1over">><<set $bladespent to false, $troublespent to false, $tallysspent to false, $sheryspent to false, $rielspent to false, $chasespent to false, $redspent to false, $aylaspent to false, $halekspent to false, $brionyspent to false, $lavinetspent to false, $cainespent to false, $mimirspent to false, $dayoff to 0, $revisitshop to false, $newspaperspent to false, $roomspent to false, $shopspent to false, $recruitspent to false, $commanderspent to false, $strengthspent to false, $magicspent to false, $magictime to 0, $strengthtime to 0, $parttimespent to false, $questspent to false, $gamblingspent to false, $prayspent to false>><</link>></center> <<elseif $part is 2>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "dayoff2over">><<set $bladespent to false, $troublespent to false, $tallysspent to false, $sheryspent to false, $rielspent to false, $chasespent to false, $redspent to false, $aylaspent to false, $halekspent to false, $brionyspent to false, $lavinetspent to false, $cainespent to false, $mimirspent to false, $dayoff to 0, $revisitshop to false, $newspaperspent to false, $roomspent to false, $shopspent to false, $recruitspent to false, $commanderspent to false, $strengthspent to false, $magicspent to false, $magictime to 0, $strengthtime to 0, $parttimespent to false, $questspent to false, $gamblingspent to false, $prayspent to false>><</link>></center> <<elseif $part is 3>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "dayoff3over">><<set $bladespent to false, $troublespent to false, $tallysspent to false, $sheryspent to false, $rielspent to false, $chasespent to false, $redspent to false, $aylaspent to false, $halekspent to false, $brionyspent to false, $lavinetspent to false, $cainespent to false, $mimirspent to false, $dayoff to 0, $revisitshop to false, $newspaperspent to false, $roomspent to false, $shopspent to false, $recruitspent to false, $commanderspent to false, $strengthspent to false, $magicspent to false, $magictime to 0, $strengthtime to 0, $parttimespent to false, $questspent to false, $gamblingspent to false, $prayspent to false>><</link>></center> <<elseif $part is 4>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "dayoff4over">><<set $bladespent to false, $troublespent to false, $tallysspent to false, $sheryspent to false, $rielspent to false, $chasespent to false, $redspent to false, $aylaspent to false, $halekspent to false, $brionyspent to false, $lavinetspent to false, $cainespent to false, $mimirspent to false, $dayoff to 0, $revisitshop to false, $newspaperspent to false, $roomspent to false, $shopspent to false, $recruitspent to false, $commanderspent to false, $strengthspent to false, $magicspent to false, $magictime to 0, $strengthtime to 0, $parttimespent to false, $questspent to false, $gamblingspent to false, $prayspent to false>><</link>></center> <<elseif $part is 5>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "dayoff5over">><<set $bladespent to false, $troublespent to false, $tallysspent to false, $sheryspent to false, $rielspent to false, $chasespent to false, $redspent to false, $aylaspent to false, $halekspent to false, $brionyspent to false, $lavinetspent to false, $cainespent to false, $mimirspent to false, $dayoff to 0, $revisitshop to false, $newspaperspent to false, $roomspent to false, $shopspent to false, $recruitspent to false, $commanderspent to false, $strengthspent to false, $magicspent to false, $magictime to 0, $strengthtime to 0, $parttimespent to false, $questspent to false, $gamblingspent to false, $prayspent to false>><</link>></center> <<elseif $part is 6>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "dayoff6over">><<set $bladespent to false, $troublespent to false, $tallysspent to false, $sheryspent to false, $rielspent to false, $chasespent to false, $redspent to false, $aylaspent to false, $halekspent to false, $brionyspent to false, $lavinetspent to false, $cainespent to false, $mimirspent to false, $dayoff to 0, $revisitshop to false, $newspaperspent to false, $roomspent to false, $shopspent to false, $recruitspent to false, $commanderspent to false, $strengthspent to false, $magicspent to false, $magictime to 0, $strengthtime to 0, $parttimespent to false, $questspent to false, $gamblingspent to false, $prayspent to false>><</link>></center> <<elseif $part is 7>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "dayoff7over">><<set $bladespent to false, $troublespent to false, $tallysspent to false, $sheryspent to false, $rielspent to false, $chasespent to false, $redspent to false, $aylaspent to false, $halekspent to false, $brionyspent to false, $lavinetspent to false, $cainespent to false, $mimirspent to false, $dayoff to 0, $revisitshop to false, $newspaperspent to false, $roomspent to false, $shopspent to false, $recruitspent to false, $commanderspent to false, $strengthspent to false, $magicspent to false, $magictime to 0, $strengthtime to 0, $parttimespent to false, $questspent to false, $gamblingspent to false, $prayspent to false>><</link>></center> <<elseif $part is 8>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "dayoff8over">><<set $bladespent to false, $troublespent to false, $tallysspent to false, $sheryspent to false, $rielspent to false, $chasespent to false, $redspent to false, $aylaspent to false, $halekspent to false, $brionyspent to false, $lavinetspent to false, $cainespent to false, $mimirspent to false, $dayoff to 0, $revisitshop to false, $newspaperspent to false, $roomspent to false, $shopspent to false, $recruitspent to false, $commanderspent to false, $strengthspent to false, $magicspent to false, $magictime to 0, $strengthtime to 0, $parttimespent to false, $questspent to false, $gamblingspent to false, $prayspent to false>><</link>></center> <<elseif $part is 9>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "dayoff9over">><<set $bladespent to false, $troublespent to false, $tallysspent to false, $sheryspent to false, $rielspent to false, $chasespent to false, $redspent to false, $aylaspent to false, $halekspent to false, $brionyspent to false, $lavinetspent to false, $cainespent to false, $mimirspent to false, $dayoff to 0, $revisitshop to false, $newspaperspent to false, $roomspent to false, $shopspent to false, $recruitspent to false, $commanderspent to false, $strengthspent to false, $magicspent to false, $magictime to 0, $strengthtime to 0, $parttimespent to false, $questspent to false, $gamblingspent to false, $prayspent to false>><</link>></center> <<elseif $part is 10>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "dayoff10over">><<set $bladespent to false, $troublespent to false, $tallysspent to false, $sheryspent to false, $rielspent to false, $chasespent to false, $redspent to false, $aylaspent to false, $halekspent to false, $brionyspent to false, $lavinetspent to false, $cainespent to false, $mimirspent to false, $dayoff to 0, $revisitshop to false, $newspaperspent to false, $roomspent to false, $shopspent to false, $recruitspent to false, $commanderspent to false, $strengthspent to false, $magicspent to false, $magictime to 0, $strengthtime to 0, $parttimespent to false, $questspent to false, $gamblingspent to false, $prayspent to false>><</link>></center> <</if>> /* <<if $revisitshop is false>> <br> <center>Your day off is almost over. Would you like to visit the shop one last time before the day ends?</center> <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Yes.' 'Shop'>><<set $revisitshop to true>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'No.' 'dayoffover'>><<set $revisitshop to true>><</link>></li> </ul> <<else>> <br> <center>Your day off is over.</center> <br> <<if $part is 1>><center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "dayoff1over">><</link>></center><</if>> <</if>> */

Shepherd officers periodically receive time off to explore Haven and engage in leisure activities during the interludes between missions. Activities that consume time are marked with an hourglass [<i class="fas fa-hourglass-half"></i>] icon. Activities that do not have an hourglass are considered free activities and do not consume time: this includes shopping, reading the newspaper, and visiting your room. Your remaining free time for the day is marked at the bottom-left corner of the map. You can select your next activity by exploring the interactive map or by using the list provided below it. You can also click and drag the map around as needed. <center><<button 'Confirm'>><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>></center>

<<audio ":playing" fadeoverto 5 0>> <<if $aylahate is true>> However, you can't find Ayla no matter how much you search, so you have to give up. <br><br> <<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "dayoff">><<set $dayoff -= 1>><</link>> <<elseif $aylatime is 0>> <<include "aylainterlude1">> <<elseif $aylatime is 1>> <<include "aylainterlude2">> <<elseif $aylatime is 2>> <<include "aylainterlude3">> <<else>> [THIS SECTION IS INCOMPLETE.] <br><br> <<if $capradayoff is true>> <<page_break "Next" "dayoff42">> <<else>> <<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "dayoff">><<set $dayoff -= 1>><</link>> <</if>> <</if>>

<<set $aylastatus to "You're getting her to open up to you more.">><<setayla +5>> After some searching, you find Ayla perched on <<nobr>><<if $part is 4>> one of the rooftops of Solhadur, a pleasant, flat lookout point that oversees the overgrown courtyard below. <<else>> one of the high battlements of the compound's walls, overlooking a small, forgotten garden below. <</if>><</nobr>> She glances up and nods at you. "Hey." "Hey." You take a seat next to her and notice that she's in the middle of carving something into the handle of her quarterstaff with a long, thin knife. Now that you look closer, you see that the staff is covered with little symbols and runes, starting from the knobby, polished head of the staff and stretching to about three-quarters of the way up its handle. "You need something?" Ayla asks, her eyes set on carving another symbol into the staff. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Just wondering what you were up to."' 'justay1wondering'>><<setayla +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I was hoping to get to know you better."' 'iaylawas'>><<setayla +1>><<setayla +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Just wandering around."' 'justaylawandering'>><<setayla +3>><</link>></li> </ul>

She eyes you beadily. "Why? Think I'm going to steal something and run off?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Wow, defensive much? Why would you leap to that conclusion?"' 'wowayladefensive'>><<setayla -5>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"No, not at all! I would never think that!"' 'noaylanot'>><<setayla +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Why, were you considering it?"' 'whyaylawere'>><<setayla +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

She scowls. "If you'd lived the life I've lived, with the way people treat me? It wouldn't sound all that crazy." She turns back to her carving with a frown. <<include "foraylaa">>

Ayla blinks. "…Oh. Good." She turns back to her carving, looking more content. <<include "foraylaa">>

Ayla stares at you for a moment—and then she cracks a wide, crooked grin. "Maybe," she concedes. "For a second. There are a <i>lot</i> of valuable things around here that no one'd miss too bad. But if that idiot Chase can refrain, I will, too. I'm more guide than thief, nowadays, anyway. Tryin' to make an honest living." "Actually, wouldn't you say you're more… officer of the law nowadays?" "Oh, yeah. That, too." <<include "foraylaa">>

She pauses, then eyes you warily. "Why?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Why not?"' 'whyaylanot'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I want to be friends."' 'iwantaylato'>><<setayla +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"We\'re going to be colleagues, so it seems logical that we should become acquainted."' 'wereaylagoing'>><<setayla -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"There\'s something about you that intrigues me."' 'theresaylasomething'>><<set $aylaromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> </ul>

She narrows her eyes at your cryptic response, but seems to have nothing to say to it, either. <<include "foraylaa">>

Ayla blinks, then looks away—but you think a smile might be playing around her lips. "Well, good luck," she says, her voice forced-casual. "Others have tried, and no one's really stuck around all that long. I'm not that easy to be friends with." Then she shrugs. "…But you can try." <<include "foraylaa">>

She rolls her eyes. "Whatever you say." <<include "foraylaa">>

She scowls, though she rubs at her neck as if suddenly hot. "And what is that, exactly?" She stares at you, almost challenging. You smile back. "I'd like to find out." Ayla looks away, frowning, but you think she might be blushing beneath her tawny skin. <<include "foraylaa">>

Ayla grunts. "It's quiet around here. I'm not used to having so much… free time. It's nice, I guess. Makes me itch, sometimes, though. Like I'm going to burst out of my skin. You ever feel like that?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Never. I\'m grateful for downtime where I can take it."' 'neveraylaim'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Not really. Even when it\'s \'quiet,\' there\'s so much going on... so many things to take care of."' 'notaylareally'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Sometimes I feel like that. I just occupy myself with a hobby when that happens, though."' 'sometimesaylaifeel'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"All the time. I get restless... like I just want to go off and do something, but I don\'t know what."' 'allaylathe'>><<setayla +1>><<set $aylaharden -= 1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Ayla ponders this for a moment. "Maybe I'll get to that point someday." <<include "foraylaa">>

Ayla snorts lightly. "That's because you're popular—needed." She looks away and falls silent after that. <<include "foraylaa">>

Ayla nods. "That's what I'm doing now." She holds up her staff as proof, then turns back to her carving. <<include "foraylaa">>

She nods. "I'm the same way," she says thoughtfully. "Huh. Never knew anyone else was like that, too." <<include "foraylaa">>

For a while, comfortable silence falls between you as Ayla continues to carve, the sounds of her knife digging into the wood filling you with a kind of satisfied peace. Up here, the wind is cold and harsher than on the ground, snapping against your clothes with long, piercing fingers, but Ayla—who isn't even wearing sleeves—seems completely at home. <<include "aylacold">>

Ayla glances up distractedly. "Huh? Oh—no. Cold doesn't bother me." She flexes her muscular arms. "I never seem to feel it. Maybe it's because the desert gets so cold at night, or it's so hot during the day that I like the cold. Or it's a Zephilim thing. I don't know." <<include "aylacold">>

She shrugs. "S'ppose, yeah. I like being where the air flows nice and free, which seems kind of cliché and stupid—but hey, I'm a Wind-Mage, so might as well embrace it." "What about being underground, or in small spaces?" "I'm not a fan." She shudders, then glances at you. "What about you? Do heights bother you?" <ul class="choices"> <<if $part gt 4>><li><<link '"After the Cave of Many Mouths, I\'d gladly take heights over being underground, any day."' 'afteraylathe'>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link '"Heights make me kind of queasy."' 'heightsaylamade'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I don\'t mind heights, but I don\'t typically seek them out."' 'iayladont'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I love being in high places. Makes me feel like I\'m flying."' 'iaylalove'>><<setayla +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Ayla nods gravely. "I don't know how in the blazes you did that, all on your own." She pauses. "If I'd been there, I would have thrown that Moonsilk bitch off the mountain. Fuck her." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'You smile at her. "Thanks."' 'youaylasmile'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Shake your head. "She did what she thought was going to save her people. I can\'t be angry at that."' 'shakeaylayour'>><<setayla +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"If <i>I</i> ever see her again, I\'ll do worse than throw her off a mountain."' 'ifaylaiever'>><</link>></li> </ul>

She nods seriously. "You ever see her again, you tell me." <<include "aylacold">>

She shakes her head slowly. "You're a better person than me, then," she says, her voice gruff but admiring. <<include "aylacold">>

Ayla smirks at you. "Oh yeah? Like what?" You think on it. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Shave her head bald, maybe."' 'shaveaylaher'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Challenge her to a duel, at the least."' 'challengeaylaher'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Kill her."' 'killaylaher'>><<setcompassionate -5>><</link>></li> </ul>

Ayla snorts. "Well, if you ever plot to do it, let me in on it," she says. "I love seeing rich snotty ladies get their comeuppance." <<include "aylacold">>

Ayla laughs. "Seems like an unfair advantage," she says. "From what you and Halek said, sounds like she's not strong enough to even hold a pistol." "She should have thought of that before she sent me into that mountain." Ayla nods approvingly. "Fair. Very fair." <<include "aylacold">>

"Damn," Ayla says, with gravitas. "Well, can't say she didn't ask for it." <<include "aylacold">>

Ayla looks at you with a concerned frown. "Should you… go, then?" she asks, furrowing her brow. You shake your head. "I can stay up here for a while longer. I just won't look down too much." "Oh. All right." Ayla clears her throat, then adds roughly: "You don't have to worry about falling. I can use my wind magic to catch you. Or at least cushion your fall." She looks away again, turning back to her carving. <<include "aylacold">>

Ayla nods. "Makes sense, I guess. I'm pretty sure that's how most people feel. To tell the truth, though, I never really got people who are <i>afraid</i> of heights. It's like—the dark, yeah, sure. Snakes? Right, they can poison you. But being somewhere high can't <i>hurt</i> you. Not unless you fall… or jump." "I'm pretty sure that's the part they're afraid of—the falling." She grunts. "So just don't fall, then." <<include "aylacold">>

Ayla smiles briefly. "I get that," she says, glancing away again. "Flying's great." "Have you done it?" She shakes her head. "I can if I have a—a big kite, or a big fan, or something. But most of the time I'm too heavy, and it's hard to do it and concentrate without thinking of falling. I know there used to be some Mages who could do it easily, though. Makes sense why the Norms hated our guts—who wouldn't be jealous of people who could just levitate at the drop of a hat?" She falls silent for a moment. "It'll be… interesting to see how they react to us being Shepherds, now. Most people haven't seen a lick of magic for generations. Maybe it'll make them respect us more. Or hate us more. Could go either way." <<include "aylacold">>

Ayla pauses, but doesn't look up from her carving. "Yeah, and?" she asks, her voice flat. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I was just wondering why."' 'iaylawas2'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I just wanted to make sure you\'re not lonely."' 'iaylajust'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I just wanted to make sure I\'m not bothering you."' 'iaylawanted'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I was hoping we could spend more time together."' 'iaylawas3'>><<setayla +3>><<set $aylaromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Ayla regards you warily. Then she looks away and shrugs. "I've been on my own my whole life. I survived out in the wilderness by myself, using just my wits. No help from anyone. No… talk. I could go days, weeks, without ever seeing another living soul. So… it's just what I'm used to, I guess. It's not that I don't like being around people. Sometimes I'm just not used to talking that much, and then they feel weird that I'm just… there, not saying anything. So then I go off on my own again." She trails off, then frowns and regards her carving again. <<include "aylacold">>

Ayla half-laughs, half-sneers at you. "Thanks, but I'm not a little kid," she says. "You don't need to worry about me, not like that." Then she looks away, her shoulders rounding as if to fend off an attack from you. <<include "aylacold">>

Ayla glances at you again, then shakes her head. "I don't mind," she half-mumbles. "You don't bother me." <<include "aylacold">>

Ayla turns to you then, abruptly. "Why?" she asks. "What makes me so interesting?" <ul class="choices"> <<if ($aylaromanceflag gt 1 and $attractedto is not "men") and $charisma gte 50>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"You\'re beautiful."</div>' 'youreaylabeautiful'>><<set $aylaromanceflag += 3>><<setayla +1>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">"You\'re beautiful."</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link '"You\'re brave and kind, even if you try to hide it."' 'youreaylabrave'>><<setayla +3>><<set $aylaromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I like your fiery spirit."' 'iaylalike'>><<set $aylaromanceflag += 1>><<setayla +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You don\'t let anyone get near you, and I like a challenge."' 'youayladont'>><<setayla -10>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I want to know more about your powers."' 'iaylawant'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I want to know more about your story."' 'iaylamore'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I like making friends with everyone."' 'iaylamaking'>><<setayla +1>><<set $aylaromanceflag -= 1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Ayla stiffens and suddenly whips her head away from you, seeming flustered. "What? You're talking out of your arse. Or—are you making fun of me?" She regards you narrowly, but when you gaze back with steady sincerity, she frowns a little and looks away again. A long, awkward silence passes between the two of you before Ayla picks a stray thread off of her pants and mumbles, "Well… thanks. If you actually mean it." She gives you a sidelong, almost shy kind of smile, and something about the look is sweet and brilliant. For just an instant, she softens. <<include "aylacold">>

"What? You're talking out of your arse," Ayla gabbles, suddenly unable to meet your eye. But she puffs her chest out a little and sits a little straighter—and finally, she smiles at you, and it's something sweet and brilliant. "Erm, thanks. That's nice of you to say. Even if it is hogwash." <<include "aylacold">>

Ayla smiles briefly. "Oh… thanks." She clears her throat and tosses her heavy braid over her shoulder, looking both pleased and not sure what to make of your comment. <<nobr>><<if $aylaromanceflag gte 4>> "I… like your… spirit… too. You seem… good." Then she trails off, clearly at a loss of what else to say. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "aylacold">>

Ayla turns to you with a hard look in her eyes. "I'm not a puzzle box for you to pry apart and gloat over," she says flatly. "If that's all you're here for, then you're going to be real disappointed." An awkward silence descends between the two of you. That was clearly the wrong thing to say. <<include "aylacold">>

<<nobr>><<if $specialization is "elementalist">> Ayla looks at you, confused. "Aren't you an Elementalist, too?" <br><br> You nod. "But you specialize in only one element. I think that's fascinating." <br><br> "Oh." She lifts one shoulder in a shrug. "If you say so." <<else>> Ayla frowns. "They're nothing special. I move the wind around what's there to know?" <br><br> "You're one of the few Aetherai who specialize only in one element," you tell her. "I think that's fascinating." <br><br> "Oh." She looks away, seeming disinterested. "If you say so." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "aylacold">>

Ayla's shoulders stiffen. "There's not that much to know," she says suspiciously. "I was an orphan, I wandered around the desert a lot, eventually I left and came here. Worked as a wilderness guide until joining up with you lot. See? It's not that interesting." <<include "aylacold">>

"Glad to know I'm not special," Ayla replies sarcastically. But she seems happy enough to let you stay up here, so you suppose it's a concession. <<include "aylacold">>

Ayla's hand automatically comes up to steady you; her grip feels strong and sure. "Careful," she says, her braid nearly whipping into your face like a piece of thick rope. This close, she smells of sun and something like jasmine, and you can feel the heat of her blazing through your sleeve, as if she's been touching fire. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Lean against her coyly. "My hero."' 'leanaylagainst'>><<setayla +3>><<set $aylaromanceflag += 2>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Smile back at her. "Thanks."' 'smileaylaback'>><<setayla +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Pull away. "I\'ve got it."' 'pullaylaaway'>><<setayla -10>><<set $aylaromanceflag -= 5>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Grip her arm nervously. "That was kind of scary. You wouldn\'t let me fall, right?"' 'gripaylaher'>><<set $aylaromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Ayla seems a bit startled by the contact, but then she relaxes and leans back, both of your weights counteracting each other. You feel her presence like a line of heat against your side, and Ayla slouches comfortably into you. "I'm no hero," she says airily, "but if you want to think that, I'm not going to stop you." <<include "finallyaylaonce">>

She smiles back. "No problem. I've got your back, so don't worry." <<include "finallyaylaonce">>

She frowns and releases your arm like you've burned her. "If you say so." <<include "finallyaylaonce">>

Ayla snorts. "Nah," she says. "I'm not that mean. You don't have anything to worry about—at least not when it comes to that." <<include "finallyaylaonce">>

Finally, once you've both gotten comfortable again, she finishes her symbol and holds her staff out to you. "Like it?" You study the new mark: it's clearly the rampant wolf of the Shepherds, carved in crude but recognizable detail. Above it marches a long parade of symbols: you see a spiral here, a butterfly there. "What do they mean?" you ask her. Ayla considers the staff. "They're just symbols I make, to keep track of my life," she says after a moment. "It's like keeping a diary, except I have it with me all the time. I've had this quarterstaff since I was little, see. I nearly fell into a ravine while I was foraging for roots, and the only thing that saved me from becoming some bones at the bottom of the abyss was this overhanging branch. So, after, I took it with me, made it into a weapon that could protect me." She lapses into silence for a moment. "It's been my friend when I had none, my guardian when no one else could watch my back. And, so, it also keeps a record of where I've been. What I've seen. What I've… done. So in a way, it's been my most constant companion." <<include "aylarunes">>

How could a stick be her only friend? It's a little… hare-brained. And sad. Ayla scowls at your expression. "What? You asked." She turns away, her shoulders hunched defensively. <<include "youaylamore">>

"Yeah, what I've done," Ayla snaps, sounding annoyed. "It's not some deep dark secret; it's just stuff that's happened to me. Stuff I've done to survive. I'm not a serial killer, or anything. But some of that shit's heavy." She tosses her braid over her shoulder, clearly not willing to say more on the subject. <<include "youaylamore">>

Ayla hesitates. "It's… about a girl I knew, once," she says, her voice quieter now. Her amber eyes turn away from you, looking at the horizon with a faraway gaze. "Two, I guess. The first was Jin. She was like me, but a lot younger: she controlled water, and water only, but that still made her very valuable to these people who wanted to make a new town in the desert. They exploited her, treated her like a slave, when they could only live there thanks to her magic…" She trails off. "And I freed her. Sort of. She wanted to come with me, wanted to be my apprentice, but…" She pauses for a very long time. "I didn't want the burden. The dead weight. I thought I'd be freer if I was alone, only had myself to look after. Still think that, in some ways. So she went her own way." She shakes her head. "I hope she's found happiness, somewhere. I dunno. Maybe our paths will cross again." "And the other girl?" you ask. "You said there were two." Ayla's expression sours. "The other girl was Rizu," she says, her voice suddenly deadened. "She doesn't matter as much: only she taught me never to trust anyone." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"What did she do?"' 'whatayladid'>><<setayla -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Not even us?"' 'notaylaeven'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Not even me?"' 'notaylame'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"That\'s a valuable lesson to learn in life."' 'thatsaylavaluable'>><<setcompassionate -3>><<setloyal -5>><</link>></li> </ul>

"It doesn't matter," Ayla says again, harsh now. "The lesson was important, not her." You nod. That's all there is to say about it, you suppose. <<include "youaylamore">>

Ayla glances at you significantly, but says nothing. <<include "youaylamore">>

Ayla glances at you and grunts in assent. <<include "youaylamore">>

Ayla laughs slightly, though the sound is dry and brittle. "It's a long story," she says, shaking her head. "You ever hear of the Warlord of Sotat?" You think on it. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"No, I can\'t say I have."' 'sheaylashakes'>><</link>></li> <<if $intelligence gte 45>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I\'ve heard rumors, even though Sotat is so far away."</div>' 'iveheardaylarumors'>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">"I\'ve heard rumors, even though Sotat is so far away."</div>'>><</link>><</if>> </ul>

Ayla nods. "It is," she says. "And a good thing, too: it's a bloody, hellish place, and its ruler is even worse." <<include "sheaylashakes">>

She shakes her head. "He's one of those upstart warlords who thinks he's fit to rule just because he can scrape up a few soldiers from the sand with some money, whores, and fear. And brutality: outsiders stay well away from Sotat for a reason. Anyone can turn up dead there, from the highest diplomat to the lowliest slave. It's what attracts the worst, sickest mercenaries to him, wanting to become his soldiers so they can do whatever they want… but it also makes the whole region a place of terror." She shakes her head. "Rumor has it that the Warlord likes to tattoo his name onto the hands of his victims, cut them off, and then wear them as a necklace around his neck." She spits. "And his son is even worse." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "toaylamakea">><</link>></center>

"To make a long story short, I was in Sotat when I ran into him—the son. Only I didn't know it was the son at the time. Yassa of Sotat." She curls her lip. "I thought he was just some sniveling noble's kid, a wimp I could grift, just like all the others. I saw him come into this gambling den and bet him at a dice game—and then I won. And won. And won. Damn near humiliated him in front of all his rotten soldiers and bodyguards—and it was his birthday, too." She laughs bitterly. "So in return, he ordered his personal guard—we call them the leopard warriors—to take my head. I gave them a good fight and then ran—and they followed me for a long time, through the desert and every place I passed through, killing and burning wherever they went." She shrugs, unmoved by the bloody story. "So that's what the leopard means." You stare at her. "How did you escape? What happened to the warlord's son—Yassa?" Ayla shrugs. "Another warlord decided it was time to take Sotat for herself. The city burned, Yassa's father was killed and staked on a pike, and Yassa himself is now kept as her personal slave. So I got lucky, I guess." She runs her finger over the leopard symbol. "Still. Wouldn't ever want to visit Sotat again… just in case." <<include "youaylamore">>

Ayla glances at the little rune, then frowns. "I don't want to talk about that one," she says flatly. It's a tone that brooks no argument, so you ease off. <<include "youaylamore">>

Ayla nods, letting you touch the quarterstaff. It's surprisingly heavy, almost cudgel-like, the wood worn smooth and polished from many years of use, the handle reinforced so that it almost feels made of lacquered bone. "It's good to use in a physical fight, of course," she explains. "You can use it to keep your enemies at a distance, club them over the head, spin it so you hit more than one guy at a time. Good for defense and offense. But see here?" She points to the gnarled, curled head, bound with little rattling charms and feathers. You feel the spark of magic when you touch the symbols there, these more refined and deliberate than the ones on the shaft. "This has got some magic bound into it, too. It makes the staff—you know lightning rods, how they conduct the electricity through them? It's like that, but with wind and air. I sort of funnel the air around it so that it gets bigger, stronger, before I point it at where I want it to go. Like… like rolling a ball of snow before you throw it." She explains the workings of the staff and how her magic interacts with it for some time more, warming up to the subject and talking in fast, eager tones. It's clear that this is where she feels most comfortable: she's a Wind-Mage, through and through, and this topic at least she's proud to show off. Shaping and moving the wind seems as easy to her as breathing, and the quarterstaff is a useful conduit for that. <<include "youaylamore">>

You talk for a while more, until the air grows too cold and loud, lashing against your body like an icy whip. Ayla stands up and extends a hand to you, pulling you to your feet and steadying herself on the rooftop with her quarterstaff, which she also calls her windstaff. You point at it, at the little Shepherd symbol. "So joining the Shepherds earns a place on the staff, then?" Ayla smiles at you crookedly. "It is a pretty significant event, yes." You glance at the empty space below it. "What do you think will come after it?" She shrugs. "Dunno," she says. "No way to tell where the wind will take me, after. What matters at the moment is that the Shepherds are part of my life now, and I'm a part of theirs." She glances down, rubs her thumb over the emblem of your Order, testing its newness the way she would a new callous. Trying to get used to the space it occupies now. The next words she says in a murmur, almost too low for you to hear over the howling of the wind. "No going back, now." <<include "aylaover">>

<<set $aylaglad to false>><<setayla +5>>You look around for Ayla, but she's not training in the outer yards, enjoying a meal in the refectory, or—most troublesome to check of all—lounging on any of the many upper turrets, rooftops, or battlements around the Shepherds' compound. Eventually a helpful apprentice informs you that she was spotted drinking at the (conveniently-named) Wolf's Den, a tavern down the street that recently became an enormously popular spot for Shepherd officers and recruits to relax in. Entering the brightly-lit and richly-wooded tavern, you immediately spot the Wind-Mage situated comfortably at her own table, several tankards of ale jostling for room at her elbow. The reason why she's so easy to spot is because she's currently locked in an arm-wrestling contest with another recruit, surrounded by jeering, cheering onlookers and raining such a vulgar barrage of insults down on her opponent that it makes your ears burn, even from across the room. "<i>Come on, muti, come on, m'efante, you think that noodle arm is good enough to beat me? It's so thin it couldn't even snake its way up your mother's</i>—" The recruit, a rangy but well-muscled young woman with a farmer's tan lines around her wrists, lets out a frustrated cry before Ayla drives her arm into the table. <<page_break "<i>Crash!</i>" "aylasarmwrestle">>

The crowd roars with approval and disappointment, banging tankards and glasses as the recruit slinks away in defeat. Ayla grins at you, her eyes bright and her smile sharp and fierce as you draw up to her table. "Easy pickings," she boasts, seeming more jovial and at her ease than you've seen her before. She flexes a toned, muscular bicep. "All farmer's kids and blacksmith's apprentices. Huh. Give me a real challenge!" Then she eyes you up and down, amber eyes glinting with interest. "<i>You'd</i> do well," she remarks. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'd better not. You'd rip my arm off."</div>' 'autogenerated_67731'>><<setayla +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm not arm-wrestling you in a bar, Ayla."</div>' 'autogenerated_67732'>><<setayla -3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Shall we go a round?"</div>' 'autogenerated_67733'>><<setayla +3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"Bah." She tosses her braid over her shoulder as she drains one of her several drinks—no doubt ill-gotten prizes from many previous rounds of arm-wrestling. "Scared, huh? Well, can't say I didn't try." <<include 'armwrestleayladone'>>

"Bah." She waves you off as she drains one of her several drinks—no doubt ill-gotten prizes from many previous rounds of arm-wrestling. "You're no fun." <<include 'armwrestleayladone'>>

Ayla's grin is pleased and infectious. "If you think you could handle it," she says approvingly. <<include 'armwrestleayla'>>

You plunk down into the seat across from her, and slowly the dispersing crowd around you begins to notice exactly who Ayla's new opponent is. Soon enough you're surrounded by excited whispers and not-so-subtle gawking as several recruits point you out to their non-Shepherd friends, muttering things about "<<c rank>> <<c firstname>> <<c surname>>" and "the Hero of Haven." Indifferent to this chatter, Ayla leans forward, still smiling confidently but her gaze perfectly serious and sober, and offers you her angled forearm. You grasp her hand—her fingers are hard, wiry, and hot as a brand—and lean forward, noticing the warm scent of her: something like ginger, spices, and sandalwood. There are flecks of gold radiating through her amber-colored eyes, almost exactly like a hawk's. "Fight!" someone shouts. Immediately, a monstrous pressure begins exerting itself on your dominant arm, almost dragging you to the table's surface. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Resist with all your might.</div>' 'resistwithallyourmight'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Let Ayla win. </div>' 'autogenerated_67734'>><<setayla -5>><<setcourage -1>><<setcharisma +1>><<setcunning +1>><<set $aylaromanceflag -= 3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Cheat by grabbing the table with your other hand to steady yourself.</div>' 'autogenerated_67735'>><<setcunning +2>><<setayla +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Cheat by tickling Ayla. </div>' 'autogenerated_67736'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I think you're drunk."</div>' 'autogenerated_67737'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

You try to be subtle about it, but you gradually allow your arm to slacken, handily letting Ayla win. She slams your arm against the table, a little harder than is necessary, then gifts you with an amber-lit glare. "No point to it if you're not even going to try," she says in an acid drawl. She seems to take it as a mark of disrespect that you didn't try your absolute hardest, waving the crowd of onlookers away with an impatient hand. "Forget it. Not a competition if only one person is competing!" Disappointed, your audience slowly drifts away. <<include 'armwrestleayladone'>>

Ayla barks out an incredulous laugh, but only responds by exerting further pressure on your arm. In another moment, she beats you—but she grins across at you, seemingly appeased by your having to resort to cheating to best her. "Nice try," she gloats. "Not exactly subtle, but I can't fault you for trying to do whatever it takes to win!" <<include 'armwrestleayladone'>>

Ayla yelps loudly in surprise, flinching away from your touch. "<i>What</i> the—" She immediately slackens her grip, allowing you to smash the back of her hand against the table and win. The Wind-Mage instantly leaps to her feet, her eyes blazing and her cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she cries, "That's—I've never—you can't just start <i>tickling me</i>! What the fuck!" "Is there some rule against it?" you ask smugly as the audience boos and issues demands for a rematch. She gapes at you for several moments, seemingly dumbfounded. Then she scowls and drains her drink. "Rematch! And no fucking tickling, got it?" Shaking her head, she mutters under her breath, "Weird-ass <i>vutger</i>." <<include 'armwrestleayla5'>>

Ayla barks out a laugh. "Hardly. You'd have to give me something stronger than this watered-down beer to get me drunk!" Then she waves an impatient hand at you. "But fine, I can take a hint. You're just no fun." <<include 'armwrestleayladone'>>

<<page_break "Next" "armawrestleayladone">>

<<nobr>><<if $strength gte 60>> <<set $aylaromanceflag += 1>> <<setayla +3>> You try to fight back with all your strength, and gradually, you feel yourself cranking Ayla's arm the other way. From the surprised look on her face, you can tell there's not much she can do to stop it. <br><br> "No!" she howls, though you suspect it's more for the recruits' entertainment than any genuine distress. "What are you, some kind of <i>demon</i>?" <br><br> In the Eastern part of the Continent, it's not exactly a nice insinuation to make; many, especially the superstitious, would even take it as an affliction of grave ill luck, or an offensive condemnation. You get the sense that the West is more casual about such things, and Ayla seems to mean it as a compliment. So you only grin at her, just as challenging and defiant as her opening sally to you had been, and whisper, "<i>Maybe</i>." <br><br> Then you send her arm crashing to the tabletop. <br><br> The crowd erupts in a roar of screams, cheers, encouragements, and praise. <<page_break "You won!" "wonaylaarmwrestle">> <<else>> You try to fight back with all your strength, but it's a futile endeavor; Ayla continues her pitiless campaign, and within a matter of minutes, you've lost the match. <br><br> "You fought well," Ayla says later, after your crowd of onlookers has finally drifted away. Graciously, she toasts with you one of her ill-gotten drinks. "I had to try a lot harder with you. I didn't hurt you, did I?" <br><br> "Just my pride," you mutter into your glass. You're rewarded with another of Ayla's short, barking laughs. <br><br> <<include "armwrestleayladone">> <</if>><</nobr>>

"Gods," Ayla says afterward, toasting you as you similarly raise the drink she's bought for you. Your crowd of onlookers has finally drifted away. "You fight like a devil, <<c firstname>>, I'll give you that. Who'd have known you've got an iron arm like that?" "You gave me a run for my money," you acknowledge graciously. "Between the two of us, we'd make a killing at tournaments." She barks out a laugh. "I'd like that," she says, clinking your glass again. "Never did one of those with a partner before." <<include "armwrestleayladone">>

Later, the two of you sit, situated comfortably and newly outfitted with a round of fresh beverages. Ayla holds her liquor well, and although there is technically a law against Mages drinking, it's hard enough to enforce that neither Ayla nor a friendly tavern like this seem to care, so long as she doesn't lose control of her magic by overdoing things. Eyeing the Wind-Mage as she sits and sips at her ease, you comment, "You seem a lot more comfortable here than you do at the Shepherds' compound. Is that why you're spending your time off here?" Ayla considers you from around the rim of her tankard, her gaze hovering around the territory of unguarded but not yet bleary with drink. Then she shrugs lightly, as if telling herself she has nothing to lose, and replies, "Yeah, I guess so. When you're alone most of your life, taverns and pubs are about the only place you can be with people while also… <i>not</i> being with people. It's always where there's usually other people like you—loners, drifters, and wanderers—just hanging around. Like, you're all strangers, but you're also all strangers <i>together</i>. It's… familiar, I guess. Comforting." She cocks her head at you. "I mean, you were a mercenary, right? You know what I'm talking about." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You do. No matter what town, culture, or region you were in, you knew you could always head to the local pub for job opportunities, socializing, companionship, or whatever else you needed. Taverns were a safe haven and a beacon, no matter the landscape.</div>' 'autogenerated_67738'>><<setloyal +5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You don't. You tended to avoid loud taverns and crowded pubs, preferring to keep to yourself in private inn rooms or even by roughing it on the road. To you, taverns always just represented unwanted attention and potential trouble. </div>' 'autogenerated_67739'>><<setayla +1>><<setloyal -5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Why were you alone so much?" </div>' 'autogenerated_67740'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Ayla nods smartly. "See, you get it. So even now, even if the uniform feels weird on me or some civilian is calling me 'Captain Aescar,' I know at a tavern, I know how to be. It's just relaxing, y'know?" <<include 'aylapausessignificantly'>>

Ayla nods slowly. "Guess that makes sense," she says. "If you don't want to draw attention to yourself, or you just plain don't like the chaos, maybe a tavern isn't the place to be. I respect that." <<include 'aylapausessignificantly'>>

Ayla gifts you an odd look. "Same reason as anyone else," she says, seemingly puzzled by the question. "Didn't have anyone to be with. At first not by choice, and then later…" <<include 'aylapausessignificantly'>>

Then she pauses significantly, examining the contents of her flagon, before she continues, "I was thinking about it, and you and I are more similar than we'd seem at first glance. You ever think about that?" Before giving you a chance to answer, she barrels on, still staring into the depths of her drink: "I was left as a baby by my parents, too. They also just plonked me down to be found by a stranger, so I never knew who they were or why they did it—except <i>they</i> left me in the middle of the Jalis desert, in this shallow cave under an overhang, instead of on someone's doorstep." She's heard at least bits and pieces of your past at this point, of course. "These villagers who lived in the foothills heard me crying and found me wrapped in blankets, nearly dead from dehydration, nothing to explain why I was there or where I'd come from. Later, when I was older, I got one of them to admit that they'd <i>seen</i> my parents from afar, holding me as they passed by the village a few days before, but no one knew where they went after leaving me." After another moment, she shakes her head. "They saved my life, those villagers. But they were too poor to commit to taking me in and feeding me as a permanent member of their households, so I sort of just got passed around to whoever had a little extra after feeding their own kids that week. It was nice of them, just not exactly… well, they made it pretty clear that I was a burden. Not anyone's fault, it was just the facts." After draining the dregs of her beer, she adds, "After I left the village, I wandered on my own for a long time, picking up jobs where I could, doing whatever it took to survive. Like you during your merc years, I guess. Another similarity." She lifts her bare shoulder in a shrug. "I just wandered from place to place, not really having any specific goal other than living to see the next sunrise. Sometimes I stole, sometimes I grifted or doubled my coin through gambling. Other times, I worked as a wilderness guide, like I told you, leading 'vans and shit through rough terrain, finding them water or a safe path to their destination. But I never… It was all just for the job. I didn't make friends or anything. So, yeah. I was alone a lot, and taverns were about the only place I could be… not that." Her voice is flat and matter-of-fact. "Eventually that got boring, though. So I got it into my head that maybe I should look for my parents, try to figure out who they are. Mostly I just wanted to know why they left me. Was it on purpose? Did they get attacked? Did they mean to come right back? Why Jalis, just… <i>why</i>?" She cuts a significant glance at you. "<i>You</i> know what I'm talking about." You nod slowly. You do—all too well. Ayla shrugs. "So that's how I found myself on this side of the Continent, just following whatever breadcrumbs I could. Not that I've really been able to dig up much. I don't even know their names. All I could really uncover was that one or two people had seen them in Jalis around that time, and I guess maybe my father looked a lot like me, and maybe he was a Wind-Mage, too, because he carried a staff like mine and he might have made a dust-devil for a little kid who'd grown up by the time I talked to him. And also that they left me this, swaddled in my blankets." She tilts her head so that her heavy braid slips over her shoulder, the end bound with a heavy egg-sized jade stone that you've seen her wearing sometimes. "Going off all that, my chances of finding anything else out seem pretty bleak. But I didn't really have anything better to do." She pauses, then clears her throat. "Until now, I guess." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Why are you telling me all this now?"</div>' 'autogenerated_67741'>><<setayla -5>><<set $aylaromanceflag -=1>><<setcharisma -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Touch her hand. "I'm glad you found us."</div>' 'autogenerated_67742'>><<setayla +5>><<set $aylaromanceflag += 1>><<setcompassionate +3>><<setcharisma +1>><<set $aylaglad to true>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Whistle. "Shit, Ayla, I'm sorry."</div>' 'autogenerated_67743'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Ayla frowns, swirling the foam at the bottom of her glass and avoiding your gaze. "Dunno," she mutters. "Kinda buzzed, I guess. Felt like it." <<include 'aylatalky2'>>

She smiles and glances up at you, almost hopefully. "Yeah?" You nod sincerely. "Of course. I know exactly that feeling you're describing. And I'm glad that you're with us now and don't have to be alone anymore." <<nobr>><<if $aylaromanceflag gte 8>> You hold her gaze for another long, significant moment. "Or ever again, depending on what you want." <br><br> For a moment, you and she are very still, gazing avidly into each other's eyes as the world around you slips out of focus. You're acutely aware of the way Ayla's eyes drink you in, of the fine hairs slipping free of her thick braid, of the bow of her lips as she watches yours. Without even realizing it, she's turned her hand palm up so that your fingers can intertwine, and for a moment, you feel your hearts beating together against your wrists in a strange, lilting tattoo. <br><br> Then someone in the background breaks a stone flagon, laughing unsteadily, and the Wind-Mage jolts, her hand slipping from yours. As one, you hastily withdraw to your ends of the table, avoiding each other's gaze… though the heat from your connection still lingers on your palm, tingling like static. <</if>><</nobr>> Ayla clears her throat and sips at her drink, even though her tankard is technically drained of anything except foam. "Uh, thanks, <<c firstname>>," she mutters. "Means a lot." She takes a deep breath and adds, "It's… been fun, seeing what life is like with you guys. Can't promise I'll always be an officer, mind. Military life is definitely new for me. But for as long as it lasts… I've been enjoying it." <<include 'aylatalky2'>>

She smiles slightly, the look hard and bitter on her striking, strong-boned face. "Yeah, well," is all she says. It's a simple but meaningful commiseration between two toughened wanderers. <<include 'aylatalky2'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("whosyourfavayla") and ($aylaglad is true)>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Who's your favorite person among the Shepherds?"</div>' 'whosyourfavayla'>><<set $aylastatus to "You hope you're becoming friends.">><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("aylasparentswhatdo")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"What would you do if you ever actually found your parents?"</div>' 'aylasparentswhatdo'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("whatsthelastrealleadayla")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"What's the last real lead you found on your parents?"</div>' 'whatsthelastrealleadayla'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You're right. We are more similar than I initially noticed."</div>' 'autogenerated_67744'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I don't think we're actually that similar." </div>' 'autogenerated_67745'>><<setayla -5>><<set $aylaharden -= 1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Both being abandoned as infants, without any idea of who your biological parents were, and taken in through the kindness of strangers; both leaving your hometowns to wander as young adults, taking on various freelance jobs to make a living. <<nobr>><<if $shepherdsconscript is false>> Finally finding a new family and home and purpose in the Shepherds. <</if>><</nobr>> The resemblance is eerily uncanny if you stop to look at it from that angle. "Right?" Ayla shrugs. "My story isn't quite as epic as yours, but there are parallels all the same. More so than with Shery or Trouble, anyway." <<include 'aylatalky23'>>

Ayla's mouth tightens, and she looks away. "Yeah, guess you're right," she says, almost to herself. "You ended up being the Hero of Haven, and I'm just a no-name desert rat." You frown. "That's not…" "What you meant?" She smiles, but it doesn't touch her hawk-like, piercing eyes. "It's fine. I know what you meant." <<include 'aylatalky23'>>

<<nobr>><<friendshipcalc>><<if $highestfriendship is "ayla" or $highestromance is "ayla" or $ayla gte 70>> Ayla smirks at you, her voice gently mocking. "Besides you, you mean?" <</if>><</nobr>> She thinks on it. "I like Trouble, I guess. He's good people. Really annoying sometimes, but a real virtue scout underneath it all. You can count on him for a lot of things. And that Red—<i>he's</i> fun to boss around, even though he never fights back. I guess that's what makes it so fun. And I respect Tallys, <<nobr>> <<if $lavinetjoin is true>> and Briony and Lavinet…" <<elseif $brionyjoin is true and $lavinetjoin is false>> and Briony…" <<else>> and Shery seems all right…" <</if>><</nobr>> Then she seems to physically recoil and adds, "Not that I think they're my <i>friends</i>, or anything, mind. But as fellow soldiers go, they're a good bunch to have around." "You don't think they're your friends?" you ask, surprised. As far as you can tell, everyone gets along well with Ayla, even the ones who argue with her; she seems to regard argument as an amusing sport rather than the source of any real friction, though there are definitely times when she loses her temper. <<nobr>><<if $part gte 5>> Case in point: the witch's bane incident with Halek. <</if>><</nobr>> Ayla scowls. "<i>Liking's</i> one thing. Friend's another." You have to wonder where that leaves you… but from the look on Ayla's face, you think it might be better not to ask right now. <<include "aylatalky2">>

You know how much that question occupied your own thoughts, even when you were younger. Ayla makes a face, as if she knows exactly what you're talking about. "Dunno," she answers with a shrug. "Maybe I'd punch them—at least my dad—in the face. Maybe I'd hug them. Hael, maybe I'd even cry." She snorts as if this possibility is beyond ludicrous, though. "Mostly I'd just want to get answers from them. If I could just… <i>know</i>… then I'd figure out how it'd make me feel. Until then, I'm reserving judgment. I'm not going to waste time hating them if it turns out they never meant to leave me. I'm not going to long for them and cry and wring my heart out over them if it turns out they're total scumbags. I'm just looking for…" "Closure?" you offer. Ayla snaps her fingers at you. "Exactly." <<include "aylatalky2">>

Ayla blows out a breath. "That was years ago. Some merchant in Sorano <i>sort of</i> remembered a couple who looked like they could have been my parents, going towards Jalis with a baby and a packhorse. He thought they might have been… scholars, or researchers, especially from the way my—the woman held a quill, but it was all just guesswork. Couldn't tell me where they came from, either, so the trail went cold around there. But if it <i>was</i> them, it at least tells me they probably weren't from Jalis: they were from somewhere else and brought m—the baby—there." Then she shrugs again. "Leaves a whole lot of other places to check, though." From the tone in her voice, you can tell she views the subject as almost hopeless; more of an idle way to guide her next steps or to pass the time rather than a burning goal she really believes she'll achieve. <<include "aylatalky2">>

Then the Wind-Mage blinks, hard, shifting restlessly as if to physically herd the topic in another direction. "All those years before you joined up with the Shepherds. Did you have people with you, or were you alone, too?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class ="choice-item">"I had people I worked with, but they were just coworkers. Although we trusted each other professionally, we were never that close."</div>' 'aylanodsslowlytalky23'>><<setloyal -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I had friends scattered all over the place. But I wandered so much that I rarely saw them for very long."</div>' 'aylanodsslowlytalky23'>><<setloyal +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I was alone as I could get, and I liked it that way."</div>' 'aylanodsslowlytalky23'>><<setloyal -5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I tried making connections, but it was... hard. For a lot of reasons."</div>' 'aylanodsslowlytalky23'>><<setloyal +2>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I was often surrounded by people, but I was always felt incredibly alone."</div>' 'aylanodsslowlytalky23'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I actively pushed anyone around me away for a long time."</div>' 'aylanodsslowlytalky23'>><<setloyal -3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Ayla nods slowly. "Tell me more about that. —I mean, if you want to." She glances quickly at your face, then away, pretending to signal to a passing server for more drinks. "I mean, we're not alone right now, are we? So… might as well pass the time together. Couldn't hurt, right?" You're not sure if she's trying to convince you or herself. But you smile and oblige her, and soon enough the sounds of your conversation mingle with the noise and bustle and lively warmth all around you, the tavern filling with the boisterous commotion of people spending time with other people and choosing not to be alone. <<include "aylaover">>

<<nobr>> <<setayla +1>> <<set $aylatalk1 to false>> <<set $round1 to "">> <<set $round2 to "">> <<set $round3 to "">> <<set $strongman to false>> <</nobr>> Before you can head out to find Ayla, however, there's an insistent, impatient rap on your door, a knock done with only the hollow of the knuckle. To your utter surprise, the Wind-Mage herself pokes her head in at your answering call. "Heya, <<c firstname>>," she says, her dark tawny hair blown about her face as she leans breathlessly against your threshold, her eyes darting around the room as if to check that you're truly alone. "You busy right now?" You shake your head. "Not at all. In fact, I was just about to go looking for you." Ayla's eyes light with a gleeful look; she has a faintly manic grin on her face. "<i>Really</i>? Luck's on my side today, then. What d'you say to joining me in a strongman contest?" You half-laugh. "A <i>what</i>?" Ayla's grin widens: she appears to be in an extraordinarily good mood, in turns cheeky and excited as she declares boastfully, "You remember how I was making a killing last time, arm-wrestling the recruits at the Wolf's Den? Well, one of them told me I ought to look into the yearly strongman competition in the Market Quarter, near the Golden Way, and one thing led to another, and…" She shrugs. "…The competition is today. And I was wondering if you wanted to come along and give it a shot with me." <<include "whymeaylastrongman">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("whymeayla3")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"Why me?"</div>' 'whymeayla3'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'd love to!"</div>' 'autogenerated_67746'>><<setayla +5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"No, that doesn't sound like something I'd be interested in." </div>' 'autogenerated_67747'>><<setayla -10>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Ayla brightens, and she punches your shoulder in a familiar manner when you step out the door with her. "I knew you'd be up for it," she says, sounding pleased. "Let's go!" <<include 'aylastrongmancontest15'>>

Ayla's face instantly falls back into her usual expression of surly watchfulness. "Suit yourself," she says, lifting one shoulder in an aloof shrug. But she turns away sharply, as if you'd insulted her, and you barely get another word in before she slams the door shut behind her. <<include 'aylaover'>>

<<page_break "Next" "aylastrongmancontest1">>

Ayla rolls her eyes. "Because I think you're pretty decent to be around? Because it sounded like fun?" <<nobr>><<if $brionyjoin is true>> "Briony might be a better option for that kind of thing," you point out. <br><br> Ayla barks out a laugh. "Hardly! I still want to <i>win</i>, you know? And hey, maybe you'd still beat me, but at least it'd feel <i>fair</i>." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "whymeaylastrongman">>

The two of you make your way over to the location of the competition, a bustling plaza just a few steps away from an already crammed-thoroughfare in the Market Quarter. The streets are as packed as if it were a feastday, and <<nobr>> <<if $ayla >= 70>> it's only by seizing your hand and half-dragging you through the crowd with her wiry strength—her touch as blazing as a hot iron—that you and Ayla manage not to get separated. <<else>> you nearly lose Ayla in the crowd as she muscles her way forcibly through the throng of bodies, heedless of the incredulous or annoyed stares she earns as she forges past the other spectators. <</if>><</nobr>> From there, the two of you register your names with the competition's judges. There seem to be two events: a weight-lifting contest and a balancing endurance contest. First place for one event is twenty-five deucalions, then second place gets ten, then third place gets five. Taking first in both events also wins you the contest's grand prize: one hundred deucalions and a gold trophy. While you stand in line, waiting for the weight-lifting contest to begin, you watch as Ayla ticks things off on her fingers and mutters mental calculations under her breath. "So the whole pot is one-hundred and fifty dukes," she mumbles. "That's almost two months of wages, but if there are smaller contests around, or maybe in Ambryn…" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Are you not making enough money as a Shepherd?" </div>' 'autogenerated_67748'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"What are you going to use the prize money for?"</div>' 'autogenerated_67749'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"It seems unlikely that a single person could win first place for all three events, doesn't it?"</div>' 'autogenerated_67750'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Ayla gives you an odd glance. "It's not that, exactly," she says, her tone cagey. "Just thought it was prudent to put some extra savings aside." "For what?" you ask. <<include 'aylaaimlessshrug'>>

Ayla gives you an odd glance. "Nothing. I'd save it." "For what?" you ask. Surely she'd be saving it for something in particular? <<include 'aylaaimlessshrug'>>

Ayla grunts, seemingly in agreement. "Dunno," she answers absently. "I don't know much about events like this. Do a lot of regulars show up every year, or is it just people registering for a laugh? If there are serious competitors who do this for a living, we might have our work cut out for us…" <<include 'beforeyoucansayanythingfurtherayla'>>

Ayla gives you an aimless shrug. "For… for emergencies," she mumbles vaguely. "In case… well. Never mind." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Press her. "No, what is it?"</div>' 'autogenerated_67751'>><<set $aylatalk1 to true>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Let the subject go. </div>' 'autogenerated_67752'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

She grunts, faintly impatient. "<i>You</i> know how it is," she says, in a somewhat accusing tone—as if she's really saying, <i>You <b>ought</b> to know how it is.</i> "You've gotta… gotta be prepared. In case things go south. Like, I used to be a wilderness guide, right? But I can't exactly keep that up while I'm serving as an officer. But what if something happens to the Order? It gets shut down by the Autarch, or Blade gets replaced by someone awful, or something else happens and it's just better for me to leave? What if you all get sick of me or something?" When you open your mouth, she barrels ahead, "It's just an example. My point is, it'd be stupid to count on it forever, wouldn't it? Smarter to have a side hustle, something to fall back on in case I need it. Riel's always yammering on about the importance of <i>diversified revenue streams</i> and <i>separate sources of income.</i> If one goes under, it's better to have another one waiting in the wings, right? That way you're not completely dependent on one thing." <<include 'andyouthinkstrengthayla'>>

Ayla gives you a brief, tight smile before turning back to the line, muttering calculations to herself again. <<include 'beforeyoucansayanythingfurtherayla'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"...And you think strength competitions should be your fallback plan?"</div>' 'autogenerated_67753'>><<setayla -5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"That's rather pessimistic, isn't it? Always living in fear of catastrophe?"</div>' 'autogenerated_67754'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"But if you live like that, won't you always have one foot on the dock?"</div>' 'autogenerated_67755'>><<set $aylaharden += 2>><<setloyal +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Damn, that's smart. I should have thought of that first."</div>' 'autogenerated_67756'>><<setayla +1>><<setcunning +1>><<setloyal -1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Ayla huffs at you, rolling her eyes. "I'm just giving it a try," she says with a scoff. "You've got to do your research first, don't you?" <<include 'beforeyoucansayanythingfurtherayla'>>

Ayla huffs at you. "It's <i>practical</i>," she tells you with a grumble. "Everything falls apart eventually. Nothing lasts forever. D'ruther be standing on the other side with an exit strategy instead of gawking with my thumb up my ass like an idiot…" <<include 'beforeyoucansayanythingfurtherayla'>>

Ayla stares at you as if you've grown two heads. "…What?" "It's like a person who <i>wants</i> to go on a boat, but they're too scared to fully commit," you explain. "So they put one foot on the boat, but keep one foot on the dock, thinking it's safer. The problem is, when the boat eventually sets sail, they'll fall in to the water." "Or just stay on the dock," Ayla retorts, a bit scornfully. But the look she gives you is thoughtful. "I'm not <i>scared</i>, $firstname." "I know," you reply, "but if you don't commit to something, you never give it a full chance to really succeed, do you? If you're always half-waiting for it to fail, aren't you already dooming its chances of success?…" <<include 'beforeyoucansayanythingfurtherayla'>>

In your experience, it's always safest to be prepared. Ayla, a hardened survivalist and pragmatist, clearly knows the ways to do thing. She bumps your shoulder in a familiar manner. "Right? Feel free to steal the idea. Ain't no rules against it, unless it interferes with your duties…" <<include 'beforeyoucansayanythingfurtherayla'>>

Before you can say anything further, however, the clanging of a tinny bell and the calls of the contest's announcer—a bardic herald who's clearly enjoying hamming up his performance—rallies you to the indicated section of the plaza. Ayla nudges you excitedly as you and the dozen or so contestants shuffle forward to answer his summons. The weight-lifting contest is about to begin. <<page_break "Next" "roundonebegin">>

<span class="splash">Round One</span> When directed, the two of you take up positions on a cleared dais in the center of the plaza, roped off on all sides and surrounded by throngs of interested spectators and bystanders enjoying the free show. Little children hang under the velvet ropes or cling to their father's shoulders as they gawk at you, while sneering teens elbow each other knowingly and jovial, sometimes drunken passerby call out speculations, bets, and comments on each contestant's prospects. Trying to ignore the hubbub, you focus on the rack of weights in front of you. The contest rules are simple, the announcer explains to the chattering, excited crowd. Each contestant will raise the weight in front of them in a overhead lift. After each successful lift, an assistant will load on another set of weights to the rack. This will continue until only one "strongman" ("Or strongwoman!" Ayla yells, to the approving laughs of the crowd) is left standing. You glance down at the rack of weights resting on the ground in front of you. It seems simple enough—what's already loaded here is about what you manage at the Shepherd training rooms—but you have a feeling it's going to get a lot of tougher as time goes on. The other contestants here seem to be a mix: some are fearsome, bulky brutes, while others are clearly average people who simply decided to sign up for fun and the chance to win some coin. There's a man with some military bearing—you'd put money on his being a Vice-Guard—a woman with brawny arms but a plain, dowdy demeanor that makes you guess that she's perhaps a cook or a laundress, a scrappy-looking youth with a cauliflower ear, and a female mercenary with shadowed eyes. On Ayla's right side, you catch the eye of a middle-aged farmer who smiles wanly and ruefully at the excited cheers of his family on the sidelines. On your other side, a glistening, comically-muscular man with oiled biceps and veins bulging almost indecently from his neck gives you a grim smile. You do a double-take when you glance at him. Good lord, he looks like he's been stuffed with a dozen pumpkins. You glance at Ayla and mouth, <i>Why exactly did I agree to this again?</i> She shoots you a sharp grin and winks. The herald blows a small curled hand-trumpet, which produces a silly-sounding, feeble, flatulent noise. <<page_break "Begin!" "roundonestrength2">>

You lift the set of weights high above your head. Simple enough. "And again!" An assistant hurries forward to load another set of weights onto your rack. <<nobr>><<if $strength >= 10>> You lift it again with ease. <<else>> <<setayla -10>> <<if $aylaromanceflag >= 5>> <<set $aylaromanceflag -=5>> <</if>> <<set $round1 to "13">> You wrap your fingers around the gritty metal bar, feeling the rasp of it against your palms as you strain, but… <br><br> You're not able to lift it. <br><br> The assistant immediately taps you out. "Please wait on the sidelines until this round is over." <br><br> Ayla shoots you an incredulous look, but you're not able to exchange words before you trudge shamefully off to the side. The herald hands you a tag that reads, "13th Place." <br><br> <<page_break "..." "loseweightliftingcontest">> <</if>><</nobr>> The assistant loads another set of weights onto the rack. "And again!" <<nobr>><<if $strength >= 20>> You lift it again, smoothly and seamlessly. <br><br> You hear a frustrated cry as a slender young woman you hadn't seen before drops out of the round. <br><br> <<page_break "And again!" "roundonestrength3">> <<else>> <<setayla -8>> <<if $aylaromanceflag >= 5>> <<set $aylaromanceflag -=5>> <</if>> <<set $round1 to "12">> You wrap your fingers around the gritty metal bar, feeling the rasp of it against your palms as you strain, but… <br><br> You're not able to lift it. <br><br> The assistant immediately taps you out. "Please wait on the sidelines until this round is over." You hear a frustrated cry as a slender young woman you hadn't seen before drops out of the round with you. Ayla shoots you an incredulous look, but you're not able to exchange words before you trudge shamefully off to the side. The herald hands you a tag that reads, "12th Place." <br><br> <<page_break "..." "loseweightliftingcontest">> <</if>> <</nobr>>

The assistant loads another set of weights onto the rack. <<nobr>><<if $strength >= 30>> You lift it again, feeling only the slight prickle of sweat break out on your back as you do so. <br><br> In front of you, the youth with the cauliflower ear and another young man drop their weights with a defeated groan. On your right, Ayla looks cool and confident; she arches a brow challengingly at the young man loading her weights, as if to dare him to add even more. <br><br> <<page_break "And again!" "roundonestrength4">> <<else>> <<setayla -5>> <<if $aylaromanceflag gte 5>> <<set $aylaromanceflag -= 3>> <</if>> <<set $round1 to "9">> You wrap your fingers around the gritty metal bar, feeling the rasp of it against your palms as you strain, but… <br><br> You're not able to lift it. <br><br> The assistant immediately taps you out, though the youth with the cauliflower ear and another young man exit the round first. "Please wait on the sidelines until this round is over." Ayla shoots you a surprised look, but you're not able to exchange words before you trudge shamefully off to the side, panting and sweating. The herald hands you a tag that reads, "9th Place." <br><br> <<page_break "..." "loseweightliftingcontest">> <</if>><</nobr>>

The assistant loads another set of weights onto the rack. <<nobr>><<if ($strength >= 40)>> You hear Ayla's slight grunt of effort as you heft your own rack into the air, but so far, you're holding your own… and so is she. <br><br> Another contestant in front of you drops out. The farmer makes a sudden alarmed sound, something like, "<i>Gack</i>!" before he gasps, "<i>My back</i>!" and drops his weights with a kind of pained shriek. Ayla shoots you a sly look as his children deliver a chorus of disappointment and boos, and it takes everything in you to not let the quiver in your belly to turn into a laugh. <br><br> <<page_break "And again!" "roundonestrength5">> <<else>> <<setayla -1>> <<if ($aylaromanceflag >= 5)>> <<set $aylaromanceflag -= 1>> <</if>> <<set $round1 to "7">> You wrap your fingers around the gritty metal bar, feeling the rasp of it against your palms as you strain, but… <br><br> You're not able to lift it. Another contestant in front of you drops out. The farmer makes a sudden alarmed sound, something like, "<i>Gack</i>!" before he gasps, "<i>My back</i>!" and drops his weights with a kind of pained shriek. Your own assistant taps you out as well. "Please wait on the sidelines until this round is over." Ayla shoots you a surprised look, but you're not able to exchange words before you stumble off to the side, panting and sweating. The herald hands you a tag that reads, "7th Place." <br><br> <<page_break "..." "loseweightliftingcontest">> <</if>><</nobr>>

The assistant loads another set of weights onto the rack. <<nobr>><<if $strength >= 50>> <<setstrength +1>> Okay, this is starting to get more difficult. Your body is slick with sweat now, though it cools you in the balmy breeze. You lift your weights just as you hear Ayla gasp beside you, "Okay, damn!" <br><br> The laundress drops out with a sullen glare, and so do two other contestants. Looking around, that just leaves you, Ayla, and three other people: the Vice Guard, the mercenary, and the muscle-bound pumpkin man. <br><br> "You got this, <<c firstname>>," Ayla mutters to you as she wipes her brow. <<include "yougotthisayla">> <<else>> <<include "5thplaceweights">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Smile encouragingly at her. "Same to you."</div>' 'andagainstrength'>><<setayla +3>><<set $aylaromanceflag += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Nod tightly. You are competing against each other, after all. </div>' 'andagainstrength'>><<setayla +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<set $round1 to "5">>You wrap your fingers around the gritty metal bar, feeling the rasp of it against your palms as you strain, but… You're not able to lift it. The laundress drops out with a sullen glare, and so do two other contestants. Your own assistant taps you out as well. "Please wait on the sidelines until this round is over." Ayla shoots you a surprised look, but you're not able to exchange words before you stumble off to the side, panting and sweating. The herald hands you a tag that reads, "5th Place." Looking around, that just leaves Ayla, the Vice Guard, the mercenary, and the muscle-bound pumpkin man. <<page_break "..." "loseweightliftingcontest">>

The assistant loads another set of weights onto the rack. <<nobr>><<if $strength >= 60>> <<setstrength +1>> Puffing a little now, you strain to heave the weights over your head with an audible grunt. Ayla does the same, and so do all of the other remaining contestants. The mercenary is starting to look slightly alarmed, while the Vice Guard looks grimly determined and the muscle-bound man is smirking. <br><br> Ayla shoots the latter a look and spits on the ground, muttering to herself, "<i>Muti</i>." She gives you a soldierly glance and a nod, as if to say, <i>No matter what happens, we've got to beat <b>him</b>. </i> <br><br> <<page_break "And again!" "roundonestrength6">> <<else>> <<include "5thplaceweights">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if ($strength >= 70)>> <<setstrength +1>> <<setayla +1>> <<if ($aylaromanceflag >= 8)>> <<set $aylaromanceflag += 1>> <</if>> You try not to issue an extremely unflattering groan as you heave the weights overhead once more, the muscles in your lower back and shoulders burning with the strain. Ayla plants her feet beside you and does the same thing. So does the muscle-bound man, so does the mercenary… but the Vice Guard abruptly drops his weights before they can get past his chin, almost causing the pavement to crack. He's tapped out. <br><br> <<page_break "And again!" "roundonestrength7">> <<else>> <<setayla +1>> <<set $round1 to "4">> You wrap your fingers around the gritty metal bar, feeling the rasp of it against your palms as you strain, but… <br><br> You're not able to lift it. The Vice Guard, too, abruptly drops his weights before they can get past his chin, almost causing the pavement to crack. He's tapped out alongside you, and you're told to please wait on the sidelines until the round is over. Ayla shoots you a regretful look, but nods determinedly as you pass her. She means to win this for the both of you. <br><br> The herald hands you a tag that reads, "4th Place." <br><br> <<page_break "..." "loseweightliftingcontest">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if ($strength >= 80)>> <<setstrength +1>> <<setayla +1>> <<if ($aylaromanceflag >= 8)>> <<set $aylaromanceflag += 1>> <</if>> Your limbs are trembling, your bones feel watery, and your palms are on fire from the rasp of harsh metal against your skin, but you manage to lift the weights over your head, gritting your teeth as you do so. The mercenary gives a frustrated yell and staggers, almost losing control of the weights and sending them tumbling down the steps of the dais towards the crowd. She's immediately tapped out… which only leaves you, Ayla, and the muscle-bound man left. No matter what happens now, at least you'll earn some money from this round. <br><br> <<page_break "And again!" "roundonestrength8">> <<else>> <<setayla +1>> <<set $round1 to "3">> <<setgold +5>> You wrap your fingers around the gritty metal bar, feeling the rasp of it against your palms as you strain, but… <br><br> You're not able to lift it. The mercenary gives a frustrated yell and staggers, almost losing control of the weights and sending them tumbling down the steps of the dais towards the crowd. She's tapped out alongside you, and you're told to please wait on the sidelines until the round is over. Ayla shoots you a regretful look, but nods determinedly as you pass her. She means to win this for the both of you. <br><br> The herald hands you a tag that reads, "3rd Place" and a bag of five gold for your efforts. <br><br> <<page_break "..." "loseweightliftingcontest">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if ($strength >= 90)>> <<setstrength +1>> YOUR LIMBS ARE ON FIRE. You feel wobbly, your arms shaking with effort as sweat pours into your eyes, making them sting against the blinding light… but you keep the weight aloft. Ayla is panting raggedly alongside you, but she's holding her own: although she looks wiry and lean from a distance, she's all hard, ropy muscle and dogged determination underneath it all, and she won't give up even if it kills her. The cheers of the crowd around you both seem encouraging and mocking in turns. "No chance they can stand against that beast!" "Wow, who knew Twiggy over there was so strong? She looks <i>vicious</i>!" "Look at that Mage go! Sure $she ain't cheating?" "Go, Shepherd <<c firstname>>!" <br><br> <<page_break "And again!" "roundonestrength9">> <<else>> <<include "3rdplaceweights">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>> <<set $round1 to "3">> <<setgold +5>> <<setayla +1>> You wrap your fingers around the gritty metal bar, feeling the rasp of it against your palms as you strain, but… <br><br> You're not able to lift it. The assistant immediately taps you out, though the youth with the cauliflower ear and another young man exit the round first. "Please wait on the sidelines until this round is over." Ayla shoots you a regretful look, but nods determinedly as you pass her. She means to win this for the both of you. <br><br> The herald hands you a tag that reads, "3rd Place" and a bag of five gold for your efforts. <br><br> <<page_break "..." "loseweightliftingcontest">> <</nobr>>

<<nobr>> <<if ($strength >= 100)>> <<setstrength +1>> <i>I hate this. I hate this. I hate this.</i> You literally feel as if your spine might compress with the load you're bearing, as if your heels might sink several feet into the earth from the weight alone. But you still manage to lift the rack. So does the muscle-bound man. So does Ayla. But you think if you keep going, your spine might snap like a twig. The long metal bar that forms the rack almost seems to be bending on both ends like taffy. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if ($courage >= 75)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Keep going.</div>' 'autogenerated_67757'>><<setayla +5>><<setcourage +1>><<set $round1 to "1">><<setgold +25>><<setstrength +3>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($courage < 75)>><div class="inactive-item">Keep going.</div><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Give up. Ayla can carry the torch for the both of you.</div>' 'autogenerated_67758'>><<set $round1 to "3">><<setayla +1>><<setgold +5>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <<else>> <<include "3rdplaceweights">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if ($aylaromanceflag >= 10)>> <<set $aylaromanceflag += 3>> <</if>><</nobr>> You keep lifting. And lifting. And lifting. Finally, the muscle-bound man drops out, though you hear his incredulous protests as he's ushered off the stage. Then it's only between you and Ayla, and the spectators roar out their surprise and excitement as you both strain to lift the rack again… then again… It's Ayla's muscles that give out first. She actually collapses to her knees with a grunt of surprise, but before you can check on her, there's a burst of noise and applause from the crowd as the herald announces, "<<c firstname>> <<c surname>> is the winner!" You hurry to help Ayla up, and for a moment you're concerned that she'll be disappointed with her loss… but when you give her a hand and lift her to her feet, you see that she has a fierce, glittering grin on her face. "You were amazing," she enthuses, clapping you proudly on the back and ruffling your hair. This close, you can smell the metallic tang of sweat on her—though you can imagine the same goes for yourself—but also the smells of sun and cinnamon and some kind of spiced soap. <<nobr>><<if ($aylaromanceflag >= 20)>> Her hair has tumbled loose from her braid, sliding around her shoulders, and for some reason the unusual sight makes your heart catch in your chest. Like this, brimming with vitality and good cheer, the sunlight turning her brown eyes to warm, liquid, almost prismatic amber, the Wind-Mage is so <i>beautiful</i>.<</if>><</nobr>> "I <i>knew</i> you could beat that bastard. Good job!" <<include 'grinataylastrengthcontest'>>

Ayla glances over at you and gives you a grim nod as you signal to the waiting assistant that you can go no further. She leads you off to the side, and the herald hands you a tag that reads, "3rd Place" and a bag of five gold for your efforts. <<include 'loseweighliftingcontest5'>>

<<page_break "..." "loseweightliftingcontest">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Grin at her. "<i>We</i> beat that bastard. Second place isn't anything to sniff at, either." </div>' 'autogenerated_67759'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Squeeze her hand. "I couldn't have done it without you cheer me on."</div>' 'autogenerated_67760'>><<set $aylaromanceflag += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Is he really that much of a bastard? He didn't really <i>do</i> anything..."</div>' 'autogenerated_67761'>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

She barks out a merry laugh. "Yeah, sure, but after a certain point, I just wanted to wipe that smirk off his face. That'll teach <i>him</i> to act all big and cocky." <<include 'thecontestannouncersuddenlyappears'>>

Ayla gives you another rare, unguarded grin. "'Course. I'll always be here to push you forward. Maybe it seems tough on you, but it's 'cause I believe in you. I…" Then, abruptly, she seems to realize what she just said and falters, glancing away. "Uh. That is, I mean…" <<include 'thecontestannouncersuddenlyappears'>>

Ayla scoffs. "He didn't need to," she replies scornfully. "Showing up here, looking like that? <i>Sneering</i> at us like it'd be easy? He looks like he swallowed about fifty melons. Fuck him!" <<include 'thecontestannouncersuddenlyappears'>>

The contest announcer suddenly appears between you, ushering you both off the dais. "Congratulations," he gushes. "We'll be taking a short break in the resting area just past those ropes, and then we'll proceed with the final event of the day…" <<include "waitingroomayla">>

Soon enough you're watching Ayla and the muscle-bound man—who, from the sounds of it, goes by Joffrey of Kileanad—desperately pump the weights over their heads with a mix of unflattering grunts, groans, gasps, and curses. Sweat pours off of them both, visible even from the sidelines, and you can see Ayla's limbs shaking as she heaves the rack over her head again and again. <<nobr>> <<if (($cunning >= 50) or ($intelligence >= 50))>> Honestly, you're beginning to wonder if the strain is even worth it…<</if>><</nobr>> <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Ayla, just give up! It's not worth hurting yourself!"</div>' 'autogenerated_67762'>><<setayla -5>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setcunning +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Go, Ayla Aescar! You can do it!"</div>' 'autogenerated_67763'>><<setayla +5>><<set $aylaharden += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Go, Joffrey of Kileanad! You can do it!"</div>' 'autogenerated_67764'>><<setayla -10>><<set $aylaharden -= 2>><<setloyal -5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Fuck you, Joffrey! Eat bricks!"</div>' 'autogenerated_67765'>><<setcompassionate -1>><<setayla +5>><<setloyal -3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

She shoots you a defiant glare, her lips drawn back from her teeth, and grits out, "Shut up, <<c firstname>>!" And with that, the rack of weights rockets up over her head as if it's as light as a feather. Beside her, Joffrey falters, and the bar slips from his suddenly nerveless hands. The audience immediately erupts into an outbreak of cheers and excitement. "Ayla Aescar is the winner!" the announcer trumpets, hurrying forward to shove a large velvet coinpurse into Ayla's sweaty hands. You also step forward to join her, and the Wind-Mage grants you a sarcastic look. "One thing you gotta know about me, <<c firstname>>," she mutters under the calls of congratulations from the audience, "is I always do the <i>opposite</i> of what anyone tells me." You snort, shaking your head in exasperation. "Duly noted." <<include 'waitingroomayla'>>

<<nobr>><<if $aylaromanceflag gte 10>> <<set $aylaromanceflag += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> Your encouragement seems to bolster Ayla's flagging spirit, because on her next lift, the weight surges above her head as if it's as light as a feather. Beside her, Joffrey falters, and the bar slips from his suddenly nerveless hands. The audience immediately erupts into an outbreak of cheers and excitement. "Ayla Aescar is the winner!" the announcer trumpets, hurrying forward to shove a large velvet coinpurse into Ayla's sweaty hands. You also step forward to join her, and the Wind-Mage <<nobr>><<if ($aylaromanceflag >= 15)>> surprises you by flinging her arm around your neck and kissing your cheek as congratulations and bits of colored paper fall all around you. This close, you can smell the metallic tang of sweat on her—though you can imagine the same goes for yourself—but also the smells of sun and cinnamon and some kind of spiced soap. Her hair has tumbled loose from her braid, sliding around her shoulders, and for some reason the unusual sight makes your heart catch in your chest. Like this, brimming with vitality and good cheer, the sunlight turning her brown eyes to warm, liquid, almost prismatic amber, Ayla looks so <i>beautiful</i>. <<elseif ($ayla >= 70)>> surprises you by flinging her arm around your neck in a half-headlock, half-loose hug. This close, you can smell the metallic tang of sweat on her—though you can imagine the same goes for yourself—but also the smells of sun and cinnamon and some kind of spiced soap. <<else>> pats your shoulder, clearly exhausted. <</if>><</nobr>> "Thanks, <<c firstname>>," she says, her voice confident and pleased. "You gave me a nice second wind at the end there." <<nobr>><<if ($charisma >= 70)>> You waggle your eyebrows at her. "Was that a joke? <i>Second wind</i>? You being Zephilim and all—" <br><br> Ayla immediately rolls her eyes and walks away from you. "Ugh. Never mind." <br><br> "Wait, but you were just thanking me for your victory!" <<else>> "I can't believe you won!" you tell her, pumping her fist in congratulations. <br><br> She smirks. "I can. I knew it'd be a piece of cake." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'waitingroomayla'>>

<<nobr>><<if ($aylaromanceflag >= 5)>> <<set $aylaromanceflag -= 5>><</if>><</nobr>> Ayla shoots you a look of venomous outrage, as if she can't believe what she's hearing, and even Joffrey shoots you an utterly bewildered look. Unhappily, this also means his concentration breaks, his strength falters, and—the bar suddenly slips from his nerveless hands. The audience immediately erupts into an outbreak of cheers and excitement. "Ayla Aescar is the winner!" the announcer trumpets, hurrying forward to shove a large velvet coinpurse into Ayla's sweaty hands. She sends you another hawkish glare, but you shrug, as if to say, <i>I meant to do that?</i> Joffrey passes you, steaming like a bull, and bumps your shoulder with an evil look. Clearly, he blames you for his loss. You step forward to join Ayla, and she frowns at you. "What the hell was all that about? Cheering for the guy?" "I thought I'd surprise him into dropping his weight," you tell her smoothly. "And it worked." Ayla grunts, but looks at you sidelong. "…Whatever you say." <<include 'waitingroomayla'>>

Your shout almost backfires, though, when Ayla lets out a short laugh and nearly drops her weight. The grin she sends you is both fierce and dazzling, but it's Joffrey whom you have the greatest effect on: he falters at your sudden, unexpected jibe, and… the bar slips out of his nerveless hands. The audience immediately erupts into an outbreak of cheers and excitement. "Ayla Aescar is the winner!" the announcer trumpets, hurrying forward to shove a large velvet coinpurse into Ayla's sweaty hands. Joffrey passes you, steaming like a bull, and bumps your shoulder with an evil look. Clearly, he blames you for his loss. You step forward to join Ayla, and she <<nobr>><<if ($ayla >= 70)>> surprises you by flinging her arm around your neck in a half-headlock, half-loose hug. This close, you can smell the metallic tang of sweat on her—though you can imagine the same goes for yourself—but also the smells of sun and cinnamon and some kind of spiced soap. <<else>> pats your shoulder, clearly exhausted. <</if>><</nobr>> "That was brilliant," she chortles, nudging you with another wicked grin. "What an idiot! He looked like he was about to cry!" <<include 'waitingroomayla'>>

<<nobr>><<if $roundone is "1">><<notify_gold "+25 Gold">><<elseif $roundone is "3">><<notify_gold "+5 Gold">><</if>><</nobr>>The two of you are ushered to a staging area where some bales of hay have been set out as seats for the competitors to rest on. Assistants pass out small tin cups of water—though juice and beer are offered for an upcharge—and then withdraw to allow you to recuperate while the plaza is reset for the next event. <<nobr>><<if ($round1 is "1")>> A few passerby on the other side of the velvet ropes call out their congratulations or admiration over your victory, while you and Ayla animatedly discuss what just transpired. <<else>> A few passerby on the other side of the velvet ropes call out their congratulations or admiration over Ayla's victory, craning forward as if to catch your attention. The Wind-Mage smiles at them crookedly and gives a little awkward wave; you see a small girl turn excitedly to her parents as if a celebrity had just blown her a kiss. <</if>><</nobr>> "I could get used to this," Ayla muses as she leans back contentedly. "It's pretty fun, right? Maybe the two of us should just split off and do our thing; make a career out of this." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if (($round1 is not "1") and ($round1 is not "3"))>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm surprised you'd want to involve me in that. I placed pretty dismally just now."</div>' 'autogenerated_67766'>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($round1 is "1")>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Me? Considering I just beat you, I'm surprised you'd want to involve me..."</div>' 'autogenerated_67767'>><<setayla +1>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"'The two of us,' huh? What happened to the loner nomad who likes to take off whenever she likes?"</div>' 'autogenerated_67768'>><<set $aylaharden += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"No, thanks. I'm glad we did this, but I think this will just be a one-time thing for me."</div>' 'autogenerated_67769'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Sure, why not? I could see us traveling around without a care in the world. We'll be professional strongmen." </div>' 'autogenerated_67770'>><<set $aylaharden -= 1>><<setloyal -1>><<setayla +3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if ($strength >= 60)>> Ayla grins and thumps you heartily on the back. "Ah, it wasn't so bad! I bet, over time, you'd get used to it." <<else>> Ayla grimaces at you. "…Yeah, sorry about that. The competition was fiercer than I was expecting. I thought you'd take third easily." Then she squeezes your bicep playfully. "But if you go through my patented training program, we can still turn you into a hulking brute. You'll be crushing the competition in no time." <br><br> "Is participation in your patented training program free?" you ask mockingly. <br><br> Ayla gives a short laugh. "Not a chance. I get a percentage of all of your future winnings." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'youtalkforawhilemoreaboutayla'>>

Ayla laughs. "Cocky little <i>teek</i>," she says, punching your shoulder affectionately. "Well, fine, you can compete and I'll be your agent, huh? You wouldn't have even known about this if not for me, after all. So I get a cut of all of your future profits." "Riel would be proud of your cutthroat negotiation skills." "I know, right?" <<include 'youtalkforawhilemoreaboutayla'>>

Ayla forces a short laugh. "Just a friendly offer, that's all." <<nobr>> <<if ($aylaromanceflag >= 10)>><<set $aylaromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</nobr>> But her eyes dart to your face—specifically your lips—before she quickly looks away. <<include 'youtalkforawhilemoreaboutayla'>>

Ayla laughs. "I guess I can't blame you. It'd sure be tough on the body to keep this up <i>all</i> the time." <<include 'youtalkforawhilemoreaboutayla'>>

<<nobr>><<if ($aylaromanceflag >= 10)>><<set $aylaromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</nobr>> Ayla smiles crookedly at you. "It's a nice thought, at least," she says, her voice somewhat wistful. Then she trails off, looking off somewhere into the middle distance. "But the thought of you leaving the Shepherds, let alone for me? Nah. They need you too much. You're the Herald of Haven, after all. Can't just pick up and leave whenever you feel like…" <<include 'youtalkforawhilemoreaboutayla'>>

You talk for a while more about a myriad of topics, but rather abruptly, and accordingly to some subtle shift you can't hope to perceive, it seems as if Ayla's mood has suddenly changed, like the sagging of a banner during a drop of the wind. Her volatility reminds you of the stories of the storm goddess, Pelinel, whose moods were said to swing as rapidly and wildly as a weathervane. The Wind-Mage suddenly seems uncomfortable, as if… as if she's been having too much fun, and has abruptly caught herself out on it, and is now suspicious and wary of the whole thing. It brings to mind the image of a wary stray who's coaxed across a threshold with the promise of food, creeping into the house before suddenly becoming aware of the inherent danger and freezing up again. When you glance questioningly at her, <<nobr>><<if ($aylatalk1 is true)>> Ayla begins awkwardly, "Look, about what we were talking about before…" <<include "moreofaylaspast">> <<else>> though, Ayla only shakes her head and says, "Just tired, that's all. My back is killing me." <<include "chandryinterrupt">> <</if>><</nobr>>

She shakes her head. "It's not like I don't like being a Shepherd. In fact, it's kind of the opposite… but I've <i>got</i> to plan like it won't last forever, see? That's how it <i>always</i> goes." She rakes her fingers through her untidy hair, undoes her braid, and then begins to tie it again, deftly weaving the strands of tough flaxen hair together as she talks. "It's like, my parents abandoned me, right? And then even the villagers who raised me couldn't afford to feed me anymore; they were all too happy to see me go. Even the man who taught me magic left eventually. And then everywhere I went, if it ever seemed even <i>close</i> to a situation I'd like to stay in… something always happened. A warlord and his raiders came through and wrecked it all. Someone decided they didn't like me sticking around and chased me off. My being there caused tension for someone with their family, or a strain on resources, or… whatever. It's <i>better</i> that I'm prepared to pack up and leave whenever. It does us all a favor. 'Cause the day that the Shepherds have to downsize, or something goes wrong and it's not like what it was anymore… I'm going to be the first one to go. It's not like I <i>hate</i> anyone here. It's just… better that way." She doesn't look at you, but the way her fingers fiddle with her hair, over and over, seems more like a distraction than a necessity; her tone almost implies a plea, a desperation for you to understand where she's coming from. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Look, I understand where you're coming from. Like you said last time, we're more similar than others might think. I'm also always bracing myself for whenever this comes to an end."</div>' 'autogenerated_67771'>><<setcunning +3>><<setloyal -5>><<setayla +3>><<set $aylaharden -= 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I have a similar background to yours, Ayla. But instead of making me afraid, or detached, it makes me... <i>protective</i> of what we have. I'll do anything to fight for our life here. Nothing and no one will take that away from us, I swear it." </div>' 'autogenerated_67772'>><<setayla +5>><<setcourage +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I understand what you've been through, but we're not the people from your past. You're not expendable, and you're not a burden. We want you with us... if that's what you want. Don't assume we're better off without you, because we're not."</div>' 'autogenerated_67773'>><<set $aylaharden += 3>><<setayla +5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I get it. Your experiences have made you a coward."</div>' 'autogenerated_67774'>><<set $aylaharden -= 10>><<setayla -20>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item"> "So strongman competitions are your way of creating a safety net for yourself? I don't know if that's... realistic." </div>' 'autogenerated_67775'>><<set $aylaharden -= 1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Ayla smiles, the look half-knowing and half-bitter. "Yeah," she says softly. "You do get it, after all." <<include 'chandryinterrupt'>>

<<nobr>><<if $ayla gte 70 and $courage gte 70>> <<set $aylaharden += 3>> <<else>> <<set $aylaharden += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>>For a long moment, Ayla only stares at you, her gaze wide and wondering. Finally, she shakes her head slowly. "You actually mean it, don't you?" she says aloud, her tone half-marveling. Then she smiles at you crookedly. "I… actually want to believe you, <<c firstname>>. Huh. Never thought I'd ever say that." Then her eyes drop down to her battered shoes again. A small smile remains on her face. "Thanks, anyway. I've got to think about that. In the meantime, let's never talk about it ever again." <<include 'chandryinterrupt'>>

<<nobr>><<if ($aylaromanceflag >= 15)>><<set $aylaromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</nobr>> Ayla sucks in a sharp breath, as if you'd punched her in the gut. She blinks rapidly, her fists curling on her thighs, and for a short, dangerous moment, you wonder if the quiver in her shoulders will turn into a fit of sobs. But when she looks up at you, her gaze is clear and dry. "Thanks, <<c firstname>>," Ayla mutters, her amber, tawny eyes hardly able to meet yours. But she's smiling, a little. "That's, uh, nice to hear. Nice of you to say. Now let's never talk about it ever again." <<nobr>><<if $aylaromanceflag >= 15>> <br><br> But she reaches for your hand and gives it an affectionate, meaningful squeeze. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'chandryinterrupt'>>

<<nobr>><<if ($aylaromanceflag >= 5)>><<set $aylaromanceflag -= 5>><</if>><</nobr>> Ayla stiffens, sucking in a sharp breath as if you'd punched her in the gut. For a short, dangerous moment, you watch her fists clench on her thighs and wonder if she'll take a swing at you. But, eventually, she only turns to you with a brittle smile. "Guess so," she acknowledges, her tone dry but her lazy smile venomous. "Pretty pathetic, huh?" <<include 'chandryinterrupt'>>

Ayla laughs, the sound bitter. "Like I said, it's an experiment," she retorts dryly. "I'll figure something out one of these days." <<include 'chandryinterrupt'>>

<<nobr>><<if ($aylaromanceflag >= 15)>> Then, abruptly, she winces, reaching up to knead her right shoulder as if it pains her. You notice the motion and ask, "Is there something wrong?" <br><br> "Muscle's just tight, that's all," Ayla returns gruffly. "I don't think my, uh, form was right during all that. Plays hell on the shoulders, that's for sure." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Offer to give her a massage. </div>' 'autogenerated_67776'>><<setayla +5>><<set $aylaromanceflag += 5>><</link>> <<if ($specialization is "healer")>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Offer to give her a shot of healing magic.</div>' 'autogenerated_67777'>><<setayla +5>><<setastral +1>><<set $aylaromanceflag += 1>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Oh. Do you think you should sit this next round out?"</div>' 'autogenerated_67778'>><<set $aylaromanceflag -= 5>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <<else>> <<include "chandryinterrupt2">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Ayla glances at you quickly, her amber eyes discerning, before she shrugs easily in acquiescence. "Sure, if you don't mind…" She turns trustingly to present her back to you, flipping her braid over the front of her shoulder, but despite her nonchalant tone, she remains stiff and tense as you lay your hands against her. You feel the sun-warm, lean strength of her back, the hard angles and graceful slope of her bones as your palms glide against the gauzy, half-translucent material of her clothes. As you begin to knead, the Wind-Mage slowly relaxes against your touch, letting loose a sigh of pleasure and relief… but the atmosphere between you is anything but restful. Somehow there's a charged tension in the air, as if the contact between you is welded by magnets. You can't stop yourself from continuing to touch and caress her, focusing on what elicits gasps and twitches from the usually-taciturn Wind-Mage, and it feels especially scandalous when your hands dip down to her lower back, grazing her sides and ribs and hips in a way that elicits an audible hiss of encouragement… <<include 'chandryinterrupt2'>>

Ayla smiles ruefully at you. "That count as cheating, do you think?" You shrug as she turns trustingly to present her back to you, flipping her braid over the front of her shoulder. "I don't think it's against any rules." You place your hands lightly on Ayla's back, feeling the sun-warm, lean strength of her, the hard angles and graceful slope of her bones. You send a pulse of light green healing magic into her muscles, feeling the fizzing energy sink into her flesh as the Wind-Mage slowly relaxes against your touch, letting loose a sigh of pleasure and relief. "That feels amazing," she says muzzily as your magic targets every area of inflammation and soreness, loosening her muscles. "Can I hire you to do this <i>all</i> the time?" <<include 'chandryinterrupt2'>>

Ayla shoots you an impatient glance. "Hell no! I haven't come this far just to give up now!" <<include 'chandryinterrupt2'>>

"SHEPHERD <<print $firstname.toUpperCase()>>! VERY WELL DONE, INDEED!" The both of you jump, and Ayla whirls and practically hisses like an affronted cat at the sight of Chandry the clown half-hanging over the roped-off barricade separating you from the audience. He flaps his arm in an enthusiastic wave when you look at him, and Ayla says in a mortified tone, "Good gods, is that the weird shopkeeper that gives recruits discounts if he likes the look of them?" It is indeed. Chandry is completely unmistakable in his silver wig, ruffed white collar, and egg-yellow pantaloons today… "What are you doing here, Chandry?" you call over to him. The clown brightens, as if delighted that you recognize him. "A friend from my acting troupe is serving as the announcer today!" he calls back, cupping his hands around his mouth for further emphasis; a man in a stylish outfit next to him turns to give him a lethal glare. Ignorant of this, Chandry points to the announcer in question, who gives Chandry a wink and a blown kiss in response. "But I did not know my other friends would be among the competitors themselves! Hulloo, hooray, what a beautiful joyous day!" As the other audience members snicker, you and Ayla feel your shoulders creeping up around your ears. "Gods help us," Ayla mutters to herself. "Let's get this next event over with and get out of here, <i>fast</i>. Before he and the bard decide they want to take us on a double-date!" <<page_break "Next" "round2strength">>

<span class="splash">Round Two</span>Finally, it's time for you to gather in the plaza once more, where several bizarre-looking platforms have been erected for your use. Your task, you surmise, is to climb on top of a square wooden plank resting atop a giant metal spring. You'll have the use of some hand-ropes to assist you at first, but once the round officially begins, you'll have to release the ropes and remain balancing on the wooden platform for as long as possible. This seems to be a test of endurance, concentration, and core-strength: one false move or one wrong shift in your weight will send you tilting off of the platform. Whoever lasts the longest will be declared the winner. You and Ayla exchange nods, then climb onto your separate platforms. Immediately, the plank sways and bucks beneath your feet like a ship on a turbulent ocean; it's only by clinging to the hand-ropes positioned above you in a kind of guillotine-like frame that you're able to get yourself situated, your thighs and knees locking as you shift to center and balance yourself. The announcer gives another bleat of his hand-trumpet. <<page_break "Begin!" "round2strength1">>

Immediately, several of the other contestants topple off of their platforms. You manage to stay on, however, and so does Ayla. It's not long before it's just you, the Wind-Mage, the cauliflower-eared youth, the female mercenary, and Joffrey, the muscle-bound man who sneered at you in the first round, remaining. It occurs to you as the minutes trickle on that this would be a very boring event for a spectator to watch, but you quickly discover that the crowd has decided to make their own fun. Once they make the ragged youth tumble off the platform through a chorus of insults and jeers, the audience members immediately set about trying to distract you and break your concentration. Some are obviously doing it for their own amusement, but others seem to have a deeper motivation: there are clearly some fans of Joffrey somewhere in the crowd, and they are far more mean-spirited than the rest. "Look at that scrawny desert gal, squatting on her box like she's holding in a shit! A strong wind could blow her right over!" "Gerroff it, Bright Eyes! No using your witchcraft to cheat!" <<nobr>><<if ($heritage is "Elf")>> <br><br> "It's fair unsporting to let a knife-ears compete!" <<elseif ($heritage is "Ket")>> <br><br> "It's fair unsporting to let one of those Ket barbarians compete! Look at $her tattoos!" <<elseif ($heritage is "Hunter")>> <br><br> "It's fair unsporting to let one of those exorcist freaks compete!" <</if>><</nobr>> Beside you, Ayla gives a low growl in her throat. <<nobr>><<if $chandry gt 1>> Somewhere in the distance, you hear Chandry's anguished cries: "Friends! This is callow behavior, indeed! Leave these noble warriors to their competition!" <</if>><</nobr>> However, the jibes continue. "Fall off, merc hag! That thing'll break if you stump on it any longer!" The mercenary falls off her platform with a stumble and an angry curse. You hardly dare turn your head to look at Ayla, but you can hear her making angry noises somewhere to the right of you. Out of nowhere, a touch of hot, dry wind scrapes against your face. Unbidden, it seems Chandry has suddenly joined in on the insults, though they're directed to Joffrey of Kileanad, your only remaining competitor besides Ayla. "<i>Boo! Hiss!</i> You do not deserve to stand in the same arena as the Hero of Haven, you cad!" The platform underneath you wobbles slightly. <i>Oh, Chandry… </i> "Keep it up, lads," Joffrey says roughly behind you. "I'm about to win this round!" Ayla bares her teeth. "And I'm about to pummel your face in, you…" Your platform trembles again. <<nobr>><<if $strength gte 80 and $courage gte 90>> <br><br> You steady yourself, however, your weight balanced lightly and distributed evenly throughout your feet, legs, and abdomen. <<set $round2 to "1">> <<else>> <<set $round2 to "2">> And to your frustration, you begin to tilt slowly and inevitably to the left… <</if>><</nobr>> At that exact moment, another gust of wind kicks in, strong and sudden enough to bowl over a cow. It's not the crisp, balmy breeze you felt before, either, but a sharp and focused blast, filled with hot air that smells of sand and desert sage. It passes right over you and knocks Joffrey completely off of his platform, sending him toppling over onto the hard cobblestones; several of his cronies are also knocked over in the crowd like lawn pins, though the people standing around them are completely fine. <<nobr>><<if ($round2 is "2")>> <<setgold +10>> Your feet hit the ground, but long after Joffrey's, and the would-be strongman is still picking himself up, all blustering confusion, when the announcer hurries forward to give you your second-place prize. Ayla hops off her platform soon after, <<if $round1 is not "1">> and she is given both the first-place prize for this round as well as the grand prize of the overall competition! <<else>> and she is granted the round's first-place prize. <</if>> <<else>> Ayla also hops nimbly off of her platform—though it seems she was already in the midst of falling off—and the announcer hurries forward to award her second place in the round. That leaves you to climb off, and you are declared the winner of the <<if ($round1 is not "1")>> <<setgold +25>> challenge, winning twenty-five gold in the process! <<else>> <<setgold +25>> <<setgold +100>> <<set $strongmangold to true>> challenge, winning twenty-five gold in the process s well as the overall competition's grand prize! For taking first place both times, the announcer also hands you an additional bag bulging one hundred deucalions, along with a small gold trophy that will look very handsome sitting on your shelf. <</if>> <</if>><</nobr>> <<page_break "Next" "strengthaylaconclusion">>

<<nobr>><<if $strongmangold is true>><<notify_gold "+125 Gold">><<elseif $round2 is "2">><<notify_gold "+10 Gold">><<elseif $round2 is "1" and $strongmangold is false>><<notify_gold "+25 Gold">><</if>><<set $aylastatus to "She considers you to be good friends. It's a new occurrence for her.">><<unset $aylaglad>><<unset $aylatalk1>><<unset $round1>><<unset $round2>><<unset $round3>><</nobr>>You lean closer to Ayla to be heard over the crush and rumble of the crowd as several people surge forward to congratulate you (including Chandry, who rather obliviously—or pointedly—steps on a glaring Joffrey's foot as he rushes past). "The wind just now—that was you, wasn't it?" Ayla gives you a brief smile and a wink. <<nobr>><<if ($round2 is "2")>> "You knew I was about to fall, so you made Joffrey fall off first?" you continue in an undertone. "But isn't that cheating?" <<else>> "But using your magic like that made you fall off yourself," you continue in an undertone. "Your concentration broke, but you could have won first place if you hadn't done that."<</if>><</nobr>> Ayla snorts and gives you an elbow to your side, as if to say, <i>You're overthinking it.</i> "Yeah, and so what? I decided that winning <<nobr>> <<if ($round2 is "2")>> honorably <</if>> <</nobr>> was less important to me than sending that kakhead a message." "Which was?" you ask. <<nobr>><<if ($ayla >= 70)>> Ayla loops her wiry arm around your shoulders and gives you a brief squeeze. <<else>> Ayla sends you a strange, crooked smile. <</if>><</nobr>> "No one fucks with my friends," she answers simply. <<include "aylaover">>

<<if $capradayoff is true>><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "dayoff42">><<set $aylatime += 1>><</link>> <<else>> <<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "dayoff">><<set $aylatime += 1>><</link>> <</if>>

<<nobr>> <<audio ":playing" fadeoverto 5 0>> <<if $bladehate>> However, you can't seem to find the dark-haired Ket anywhere. <br><br> Eventually, you give up. <br><br> <<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "dayoff">><<set $dayoff -= 1>><</link>> <<elseif $bladetime is 0 and $part lt 7>> <<include "bladeinterlude1">> <<elseif $bladetime is 1>> <<include "bladeinterlude2">> <<elseif $bladetime is 2>> <<include "bladeinterlude3">> <<elseif $bladetime is 3>> <<include "bladeinterlude4">> <<elseif $bladetime is 4 and $part < 9>> <<include "bladeinterlude5">> <<elseif ($bladetime is 4 and $part >= 9)>> Unfortunately, it seems you've missed the opportunity to spend time with this character. <br><br> <<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "dayoff">><<set $dayoff -= 1>><</link>> <<elseif ($bladetime is 5)>> <<include "bladeinterlude6">> <<else>> [This section is INCOMPLETE. Sorry for the inconvenience!] <br><br> <<if $capradayoff is true>> <<page_break "Next" "dayoff42">> <<else>> <<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "dayoff">><<set $dayoff -= 1>><</link>> <</if>> <</if>> <</nobr>>

<<setblade +3>><<set $bladestatus to "You trained with him recently and got to know him better.">>You find Blade in the main courtyard, little more than a large square of dirt surrounded by high walls and adorned with a single barren tree. Blade is practicing what looks to be defensive stances, flowing from one form to the next with perfect precision and discipline. His black sword, with its strange cruel edge of blue steel, weaves back and forth in the air like a viper. Your commander gives no sign of noticing your entrance—though you've learned by now that very little actually escapes Blade's attention. You watch him for a while in silence before speaking up. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"That's a nice sword."</div>' 'bladeinterlude1_sword'>><<setblade +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Wow, you have such a great... form." <b>[INNUENDO]</b></div>' 'bladeinterlude1_form'>><<setcharisma +1>><<setblade -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Care if I <i>cut</i> in?"</div>' 'bladeinterlude1_cut'>><<setblade +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Do you practice like this every day?"</div>' 'bladeinterlude1_practice'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"Where'd you get it?" you ask. "I've never seen anything like it." Blade casts a glance over at you, though he doesn't break from his routine. "Thank you," he answers, bringing the sword up in an imaginary block. "It's a family heirloom. Said to have been passed down from the time of the Dawn Wars." You raise your eyebrows. "Your bloodline's been around for that long?" "So the story goes." Finally he relaxes and drops his stance, turning to you. "What about yours?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I don't know anything about it. I was abandoned, then adopted."</div>' 'bladeinterlude1_sword_abandoned'>><<setblade +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'd rather not talk about that."</div>' 'autogenerated_67779'>><<setloyal -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Say nothing.</div>' 'autogenerated_67780'>><<setcharisma -1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Blade isn't fazed by your abrupt response. "Of course," is all he says, inclining his head. Then he arches a brow at you. "What did you need? You came all the way out here for something." <<include 'trainingdialogue'>>

You tamp down that momentary bubble of discomfort. How to tell him you don't know anything about your birth family or lineage? Blade seems to notice your hesitation and deftly changes the subject. "Actually—what did you need? You came all the way out here for something." <<include 'trainingdialogue'>>

Blade looks at you, and though his expression doesn't change, you sense his keen interest. "So you never met your biological parents?" "No, never." "What was that like?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">I often felt a mixture of sadness, longing, and resentment. Why did they abandon me? Did they not love me?</div>' 'bladecont1'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">I hardly thought of them. My life was fulfilling enough that I barely noticed their absence.</div>' 'bladecont1'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">I was just grateful to be adopted by my new mother and father: I consider them my true parents.</div>' 'bladecont1'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">I often wondered who they were and what happened to them, but it was a curiosity absent of strong emotion.</div>' 'bladecont1'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">The thought of them often made me angry. They didn't need me, and I don't need them!</div>' 'bladecont1'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">That's none of Blade's business.</div>' 'bladecont1'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Blade casts a damply-unimpressed look over at you. "And a nice sword, I'm sure," you add, winking. Blade glances at the sword in his hand; you can't tell if he missed your innuendo or if he's simply choosing to ignore it. "It's a family heirloom," he deadpans. You raise your eyebrows. "Which sword are you talking about?" He finally drops his stance and gives you a flat stare that would be an eye roll in any other circumstance. "I'm curious, <<c surname>>—how old are you?" "How old are <i>you</i>? I'm also curious." "Too old for your terrible jokes," Blade retorts. He shakes his head and says, "I assume you came here for a reason other than to heckle me?" You spread your hands, the picture of innocence. "I just wanted you to show me how to handle a sword." Blade snorts. "You've been spending too much time with Trouble." "Don't be jealous." Now he does roll his eyes; he gestures to a weapons rack propped up against the courtyard's lone tree and says, "Take a weapon, then, if you want me to show you how to handle one. You clearly need some discipline." "Ooh, you're going to discipline me? That sounds exciting." Blade raises his sword. "<i>Draw</i>." You grin and draw your own blade to meet him in the field. <<include "bladepractice1">>

Blade straightens from his stance and casts a glance over at you. "Is that a pun?" You smile. "It wasn't intended to be, but it can be if you enjoy those." "I don't," Blade says flatly, but his lips quirk in a faint smile back. He gestures to the spot across from him with his dark sword. "Would you like to train with me?" You nod. "You have a weapon?" <<nobr>> <<if $possess_sword is true>> <br><br> You nod. <br><br> <<include "bladeinter2">> <<else>> <br><br> You shake your head. <br><br> He points to a weapons rack leaning against the courtyard's lone tree. "You can take one over there." Then he meets your gaze squarely. <<include "bladeinter2">> <</if>> <</nobr>>

"I don't go easy on my opponents, you know," he informs you. "Not even the fresh raw recruits. But you should also know—I value hard work even above skill." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Well, that's good, because I'm a hard worker."</div>' 'autogenerated_67781'>><<setloyal +1>><<setblade +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I have both work ethic <i>and</i> skill!"</div>' 'autogenerated_67782'>><<setloyal +1>><<setblade +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I think I can hold my own."</div>' 'autogenerated_67783'>><<setcourage +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Just remember, I'm no good to you injured."</div>' 'autogenerated_67784'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Blade actually smiles. "Good," he says, inclining his head. Then he lifts his sword. "Now draw." <<include 'bladepractice1'>>

Blade actually smiles. "We'll see," he says, almost teasing. Then he lifts his sword, and his expression turns into one of interested curiosity. "Draw—and you can show me what you're made of." You draw your own weapon and leap to meet him in the field. <<include 'bladepractice1'>>

A smile flickers on Blade's lips. "Hubris has been the downfall of many," he comments, almost teasing. "I could say the same thing to you," you fire back. Blade laughs: the sound is low and fricative, like the blowing of a desert wind. "Come, then," he says, his eyes full of hidden amusement. "We'll see who teaches who." <<include 'bladepractice1'>>

"Can't fight demons if my boss is beating me up," you quip. Blade laughs: the sound is low and fricative, like the blowing of a desert wind. "I'll bruise only your pride," he says. He almost winks. "No physical beatings." "You know, there's always a chance I could beat <i>you</i>," you tell him. Blade inclines his head in assent. "Come, then," he says, still faintly amused. "We'll see who teaches who." <<include 'bladepractice1'>>

Blade looks at you flatly, unimpressed by the question. "Of course," he answers. "Not only does it hone my skills and discipline, but it keeps me ready for anything. You need that, in this line of work." "But—what good are memorizing routines and stances?" you ask. "Real fights are messy, not perfectly choreographed. Especially when demons are involved." He's shaking his head at you. "It's about the fundamentals," Blade says. "They're the foundation of everything." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Show me, then."</div>' 'bladeinterlude1_practice_show'>><<setcourage +1>><<setcompassionate -1>><<setblade -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I see... Do you think you could show me?"</div>' 'autogenerated_67785'>><<setcharisma +3>><<setblade +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Hmm. I'm not convinced."</div>' 'bladeinterlude1_practice_unconvinced'>><<setblade -3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

For the first time, Blade actually smiles. "Of course," he says, his tone unusually light. He gestures with his sword to the weapons rack propped up against the courtyard's lone tree. "Take up a weapon. I'd be…" He pauses, as if surprised at himself. "…happy to show you a thing or two." <<include 'bladepractice1'>>

Blade raises an eyebrow. "That's no way to speak to your commander." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"What do you want, for me to kiss your boots and call you my liege?"</div>' 'autogenerated_67786'>><<setcompassionate -3>><<setloyal -3>><<setblade -3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You're right, I was too candid."</div>' 'autogenerated_67787'>><<setloyal +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm hoping you'll be more than just a commander to me."</div>' 'autogenerated_67788'>><<setcharisma +1>><<setblade +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"I do want respect," Blade intones, his gaze flat and distant now, "but I expect I'll have to earn it than have it given freely—at least with you." Then he gestures with his sword to the weapons rack propped up against the courtyard's lone tree. "Come," he says, perfectly serious. "Take up a blade. We'll see if we can teach you some respect." You draw your own sword and leap to meet him in the field. <<include 'bladepractice1'>>

"I'm sorry," you add. You even feel your face warm a bit. Blade's eyes quirk with a hidden amusement. "I'll let it slide—this time," he says, with a sardonic hint in his voice. Then he gestures with his sword at the weapons rack propped up against the tree. "But you can take up a blade anyway. We'll see if we can teach you some respect." <<include 'bladepractice1'>>

For just the briefest moment, Blade looks taken aback. Then he quickly schools his expression into a more neutral one and says coolly, "I don't know what you mean by that. But if you're talking about mentorship—I can give you some tips. At least for today." He gestures with his sword to the weapons rack propped up against the tree, his expression half-lidded, assessing. "Take up a blade. I have time to teach you a lesson or two, if that's what you want." You draw your own weapon and leap to meet him in the field. <<include 'bladepractice1'>>

Blade snorts. "Take up a blade, then," he says, gesturing to the weapons rack propped up against the tree. "I'm more convincing in action rather than word. Unless…" His lips quirk slightly in a smirk. "…you're scared?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Oh, please. You couldn't scare me no matter how hard you tried."</div>' 'autogenerated_67789'>><<setcourage +3>><<setblade +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm not scared, but I am interested in seeing what you've got."</div>' 'autogenerated_67790'>><<setcourage +1>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I do find you a little scary... but I'll try, anyway."</div>' 'autogenerated_67791'>><<setblade +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I do find you a little scary... and I kind of like it."</div>' 'autogenerated_67792'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"We will see," Blade says, his eyes keen. Despite his faint smile, you can't tell if he's actually joking. "I haven't yet tried to scare you." You can't stop a similar wolfish grin from crossing your face. "Do your worst." Blade doesn't hesitate; he draws his sword and leaps to meet you in the field. <<include 'bladepractice1'>>

Blade snorts. "All right, then," he says. He gestures with his sword. "Then draw. I'm interested to see what <i>you've</i> got." You draw your own sword and leap to meet him in the field. <<include 'bladepractice1'>>

Blade smiles. "I won't bite," he says, only a little sardonically. When you catch his dark gaze, his smile turns into a smirk; it would be a wink in another person. "That doesn't help," you tell him, a little nervously. "I apologize," Blade says, all courtesy again. Then he draws his sword and leaps to meet you in the field. <<include 'bladepractice1'>>

Blade doesn't speak for a moment, clearly at a loss for words. Then he clears his throat and says, as if you hadn't spoken: "Draw, then. We'll see what you can do." With that, you draw your own weapon and leap to meet him in the field. <<include 'bladepractice1'>>

Blade nods. "I understand. I suspect I'd feel the same." A brief flicker of some unknown emotion crosses his face before he changes the subject: "Anyway, what did you need? You came all the way out here for something." <<include "trainingdialogue">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I wanted to get to know you better."</div>' 'trainingdialogue_know_better'>><<setblade +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I wanted you to train me."</div>' 'autogenerated_67793'>><<setblade +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Why don't you guess what I need?"</div>' 'autogenerated_67794'>><<setblade -3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"You're obviously skilled in swordsmanship," you add. "I was hoping you would pass on something to me." Blade nods, his expression one of non-surprise. "I can do that." <<include 'bladetrain'>>

"I would rather not," Blade answers flatly. "Though if you forced me, I would wager it has something to do with this." He holds out his sword. "Am I wrong?" You just shrug, smiling, and a faint look of displeasure crosses Blade's face. "Obtuse," he mutters. <<include 'bladetrain'>>

Blade's eyebrow arches. "Why me?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I mean, you <i>are</i> my commander..."</div>' 'autogenerated_67795'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You really need to work on your social skills..."</div>' 'autogenerated_67796'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I don't have a particular reason. Why does anyone want to get to know anyone?"</div>' 'autogenerated_67797'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Why not you?"</div>' 'autogenerated_67798'>><<setblade +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Just smile into his eyes and shrug.</div>' 'autogenerated_67799'>><<setblade +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Blade's lips twitch. "Fair enough. But I hope you don't intend to brown-nose. I don't play favorites." "Perish the thought," you answer sarcastically. Now Blade does actually smile. "I will." <<include 'bladetrain'>>

"People don't usually question gestures of friendship so much," you tell him. "I do," Blade deadpans, completely serious. But then he seems to relent. <<include 'bladetrain'>>

"Fair enough," Blade concedes, inclining his head so that you can't read his expression. <<include 'bladetrain'>>

Blade blinks, very slowly, like a cat. "You could have sought out Trouble, or Tallys." "Yes, but I didn't want to see them. I wanted to see you." Blade snorts, which you take to be an involuntary laugh. "Fair enough," he concedes. "You give succinct answers. I approve." <<include 'bladetrain'>>

<<nobr>><<if $gender is "female">> <<set $bladeromanceflag += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> There's a moment of silence as you catch Blade's gaze and hold it; he stiffens, and the two of you stare at each other for a beat. Then Blade actually looks away first and coughs. <<include 'bladetrain'>>

He turns to the weapons rack propped against the lone tree and says, "The best way to get to know me is through combat. Fighting, reading each other under tense conditions—it'll be the most common situation we find ourselves in together. Take a sword and I'll teach you." "I suppose that's an opportunity I can't pass up," you answer, and with a grin you draw your own blade and leap to meet him in the field. <<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "bladepractice1_cont">><<setsword +10>><</link>>

<<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "bladepractice1_cont">><<setsword +10>><</link>>

It becomes immediately apparent that Blade, as a swordsman, is way out of your league. And you had always privately thought that you were decent with a blade, even aside from your magic. Most healthy commonfolk of the Autarchy learn to take up the sword at least once—either to defend themselves from demons and brigands, or to prepare for the day when they might be conscripted into the Autarch's army. You always thought you showed promise and talent—but you're surprised to find that Blade can read your every move like you're announcing it beforehand; that his sword continually flicks yours aside with the ease of a cat batting aside a length of yarn. You fight gamely to press an advantage, but Blade never budges an inch. He just keeps repelling your every attack until you half-expect him to pull out a book in the middle of the fight and start reading it. Still, at least he's polite about it, and you learn a lot during that first training session. By the end of it all you feel thoroughly defeated, but also invigorated: you find that you look forward to trying again someday, to putting your newly-learned skills and tricks to the test. "You did well," Blade tells you after. His face is as unreadable as ever, but you think he might be impressed. "Few fight so hard, even when it becomes clear that victory is out of reach." "Well, I've learned to keep scrapping," you answer, trying not to pant as you collapse down into the shade of the tree. "That's all you can really do in this world." You watch as he meticulously runs a whetstone along his sword: the motion causes the sword to let loose one ringing, warbling note. <<include "bladeinfo1">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("bladefightstyle")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"So where'd you learn to fight like that, anyway?"</div>' 'bladefightstyle'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("bladeswordname")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Does your sword have a name?"</div>' 'bladeswordname'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("bladeautarchy")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"So how did the Autarchy land a man with skills like yours?"</div>' 'bladeautarchy'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You can't think of anything else to say.</div>' 'bladeend1'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"Many places," Blade answers laconically, his eyes still on his sword. <<nobr>><<if $heritage is "Ket">> <br><br> Then his eyes flick towards your right wrist, where your tattoo has been bared by your sleeve. "What's your connection to the Ket?" <br><br> "My father was one," you answer. "And my mother. They didn't teach me to fight in the Ket fashion, though." You pause, pursing your lips. Aside from your tattoo, given to you in semi-secret when your father was away, you were never taught much about Ket culture at all, actually. <br><br> You tell Blade so and he nods. "That's common among those who don't live in the old territories," he says. "What the Autarchy calls enclaves, living secretly in the ruins of Ket cities. Those who live outside of them find it easier to act as if the old ways are dead. Were your parents defeated in an Uprising?" <br><br> You nod, surprised that Blade could deduce so much. "My father told me he was the leader of his own platoon. After they lost, he took all of his soldiers and fled." <br><br> Blade nods again. "And chose not to talk about the ways of the Ket again, aside from the little things. That makes sense. It makes the loss easier to swallow." <br><br> "But those ways could have been passed on to me," you protest. "To prevent them from fading even further. But he forbade everyone from speaking of them, even to his own child—and especially not to others who came to live with us later. Non-Ket." <<else>> "Do you know much about the Ket?" <br><br> "Not particularly," you admit. "The ones I've met tend to be very secretive." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "bladefight1">>

"Anguriel," he says. "'It means 'lightning's blood.'" "Why is it called that?" "Family secret," Blade says, with just a hint of a smile. "Only those of the Bronwyn line can know." You try to picture what other Blades would look like. "Where are they now? Your family?" "Where you would expect," Blade says, a little abruptly—though now his face is as impassive as ever. "My parents were killed in the first Ket Uprising. And I had a brother." He doesn't elaborate any more on the subject, and you decide not to press the issue. If you do, he might decide to ask more about <i>your</i> family. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"What about lovers? Do you have any?"</div>' 'autogenerated_67800'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Has anyone ever tried to buy the sword from you?"</div>' 'autogenerated_67801'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $gender is "female">> <<set $bladeromanceflag += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> For the first time Blade looks at you sharply. "Why do you want to know?" <<include 'whydoyouwanttoknowblade'>>

Blade opens his hands in a kind of shrug. "Many times. But none of their offers have ever been high enough to be appealing. Nor was I ever desperate enough." You raise your eyebrows. "But you would sell it, if you had to?" "Of course," Blade answers plainly. "In the end, it's just an object. It's the man that makes the swordsman, not the sword." <<nobr>> <<if $gender is "female">> <br><br> "Or woman," you correct him. <br><br> He smiles. "Or woman." <<else>> <br><br> "So if I were to make an offer…" you begin. <br><br> Blade smiles slightly. "That's not to say that it doesn't have its sentimental value. My hypothetical price would be very high." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'bladeinfo1'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Just making conversation."</div>' 'autogenerated_67802'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Well, look at you. Who <i>wouldn't</i> want to know?"</div>' 'autogenerated_67803'>><<setblade +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Look away and blush. "Just curious!"</div>' 'autogenerated_67804'>><<setblade +3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Blade narrows his eyes at your innocent tone. "Is that so." You shrug. "Sure. You can ask me how many lovers I've had, if you want." He frowns at you, then looks away, almost as if he's embarrassed. "No, thank you," he says stiffly. "I do not think it an appropriate topic of conversation." <<include 'bladeinfo1'>>

For the first time Blade seems completely speechless. After a moment he says stiffly, "I do not think it is an appropriate topic of conversation," and looks away. But he seems almost embarrassed. You grin. "Fair enough. I'll go easy on you today, since you went easy on me." Blade sends you a half-glare. "How generous." <<include 'bladeinfo1'>>

<<nobr>><<if $gender is "female">> <<set $bladeromanceflag += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> For a moment Blade just stares at you; you can't read his expression exactly, and he quickly looks away when you check. Finally he says stiffly, awkwardly: "If you must know, I have none. But I do not think it is an appropriate topic of conversation." If you didn't know better, you'd say he was embarrassed. You can't help but look away again, also a little embarrassed. "O-of course." When you look back, Blade is staring at you; both of your eyes dart towards each other and then away again. A little silence falls over the courtyard. <<include 'bladeinfo1'>>

You're sure that you keep your tone light and casual, but of course it's a question probably everybody's dying to know: are the rumors about Blade true? And if they are, how did someone like him end up working for the Autarch? Blade looks at you with his mouth tight and his eyes shuttered: you can already tell before he opens his mouth that he's going to refuse to answer the question. "It's not relevant," he says flatly. "I don't find it necessary to dwell on the past." An awkward silence falls over the two of you at that. <<include "bladeinfo1">>

After a moment, Blade straightens and looks over at you. "There has been something I've been meaning to ask you, actually," he begins. You turn to him. "Yes? What is it?" <<include "bladeend1_cont">>

"For good reason, perhaps," Blade suggests. "Ket culture is bloodthirsty and brutal, particularly when left unchecked by outside society. It's an easy thing for others to judge and condemn." "What do you mean?" you ask. <<nobr>><<if $heritage is "Ket">> You can't recall your father or his friends ever being particularly bloodthirsty: they never fought amongst each other, never argued or got drunk. Sure, they killed pirates, but only as part of the job. <br><br> You think on it harder, wondering if your perspective is only glazed over by the innocence of childhood, but the figures stand in your memory as stern, and silent, and proud and strong. "It's a stereotype that Ket are… warlike, but I always thought everything else about them being savages was Autarchy propaganda." <br><br> "It depends on who you ask," Blade answers cryptically. <<include "moremore">> <<else>> <br><br> <<include "moremore">> <</if>><</nobr>>

He glances up; meeting his gaze sends a little shiver through you. "In the old days, before the Castigation, Ket society was divided into several sects and castes. The leaders were the <i>Sen</i> Ket, the Eyes—those who governed and led the Ket city-states, which were constantly at war with each other. They were the ones who passed the laws, decided on a Code of War, oversaw and administered justice—whether that came in the form of sanctioned assassinations, bloodfeud, public duels, or death-matches in arenas." "Then there were the <i>Rei</i> Ket, the sect of the Heart—the civilians, merchants, laborers, and craftsmen who composed most of the populace. Those who had so little arma they couldn't fight much more than an average Child of Light." He smiles then, though the expression holds no mirth. "Then there were the <i>Khehi</i> Ket—the soldier caste, the Hand. These were the Ket with the best fighting ability, the strongest arma. They were selected from birth to be soldiers, protectors of their city-state. They were taught from the age of ten the art of warfare, the way of the blade, and how best to kill a man, by weapon or by hand." You stare. "From the age of <i>ten</i>?" He lifts one shoulder in a slight shrug. "Sometimes younger, if their families were invested in making them elite fighters, known the world over for their skill in battle. It's one of the only ways to achieve honor in Ket society." Now he finishes sharpening his sword and holds it up to the light. "Some of the young <i>Khehi</i> were even sent off into the remote mountains to train under harsh masters for years, learning to survive from the time they were weaned from their mothers' breasts." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"That's barbaric."</div>' 'autogenerated_67805'>><<setblade +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"That's impressive."</div>' 'autogenerated_67806'>><<setblade +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"Yes," Blade agrees. "It's perhaps why we Ket guard our secrets so jealously—because we know how the outside world will feel about them. And yet everyone also wants to reap the fruits of such practices, by requisitioning those same <i>Khehi</i> as their personal bodyguards, mercenaries, soldiers…" He pauses. "Assassins." <<include 'convcont'>>

"Perhaps," Blade says, inclining his head. "It certainly makes those <i>Khehi</i> well sought after, in any case. You will never see a person of importance walking around without a Ket of the Hand sect nearby, hired to protect them. Or kill for them." <<include 'convcont'>>

"But you said that was Ket society of old," you point out. "Before the Castigation. Why are you telling me about it now?" He meets your eye, and you remember that you asked him where he learned how to fight. <i>Many places,</i> he said—but did it all start with his birth as a Khehi Ket? "There are many places that still hew to the old ways," is all Blade says, coolly. "Even despite the Autarchy's best efforts to destroy that culture." Then he sheathes his sword and falls silent. <<include "bladeinfo1">>

But he's not able to say anything else before you both hear a scuffling sound on the courtyard wall closest to you. Blade tenses, just slightly, and he puts his hand on the hilt of his sword. When you trace his line of sight, you see that he's looking at something on top of the wall. There's a curly mop of hair up there—someone is trying to climb in! Before you can react, the figure on the wall lobs something towards you in a slow, lazy arc. It gives you plenty of time to move out of the way—which is mainly why you don't blast it out of the sky with your magic—and when it lands, you see that it's a tomato, already half-rotting in the vicious sun. When you turn back to the wall again, you can hear the titters and shrieks of children behind it as they scramble away. The little head on the top of the wall disappears. You survey the red mess splattered at your feet. "Wow. Did that really just happen?" Blade doesn't say anything. When you look at him again, you see that his hand is white-knuckled on his sword. But he just looks at the tomato and frowns. You gesture to it. "Well?" you ask him. "How does it feel to work for the Autarchy—heading up an Order that everyone seems to loathe?" <<page_break "Next" "bladeend1_cont2">>

For a long time Blade doesn't answer. He's gone so still you almost wonder if the throwing of the tomato has cast a spell on him—it seems as if he's turned into a literal statue. Finally he relaxes his grip from his sword and says, "Have you ever heard of <i>mythas</i>?" You shake your head, though the word rings a faint bell in your memory. "Can't say that I have." "It means the word of a Ket," Blade tells you. He looks suddenly as grim as he always does: you're surprised to find that you already miss his rare glints of humor, which seems to have retreated to some place far inside him. "In a more philosophical sense it's a creed, a cause that a Ket devotes himself to, a sense of honor that he conducts his life by. In a literal sense it means an unchanging vow, an oath that a Ket must never give up on. A promise that gives his life meaning and purpose." He looks at you, but you can already tell his thoughts are somewhere else. And yet he seems dead serious about conveying some hidden message to you. "They say the word of a Ket is the most unbreakable weapon that exists," Blade says. "All right," you say, because you don't know how else to respond. "My <i>mythas</i> is to protect the weak," Blade continues, grave. "To fight for those who don't possess the skill or power to fight for themselves. And to maintain order within Blest, as best I can. I have sworn that—and nothing will break that oath, be it death, the Autarchy, or the ingratitude of the very people I protect." He gestures at the tomato. "This? This is nothing. It does nothing to make me change my mind." "And if it becomes more than tomatoes?" you ask him. "If the entire city turns against us, threatens us, tries to kill us? What happens then?" You can't help but think about the past prejudices you yourself have faced; the infamous Diminished burnings during the Castigation. Blade meets your eye. "Of all people, my own Shepherds are the first that I'll protect," he says. Then he smiles, and you can't help but feel surprised by how genuine the expression is, even on his usually-reserved face. "That's my <i>mythas</i> to you, <<c firstname>>. I'll lay my life on the line far before I expect you to lay down yours. Nothing will happen to you if I can help it." "I don't know if you can promise that," you say with an uneasy laugh. Blade holds your gaze seriously. "I can," he answers. "I give you my word as a Ket." <<include "bladeover">>

You go looking for Blade, but for once you're surprised to find that he's nowhere in the Shepherds' headquarters. Shery hasn't seen him; he isn't putting the other recruits through drills in the training rooms; his office and private quarters are empty. You finally find him outside the compound walls, on the perimeter. As you walk outside, the wind changes, needles of cold air piercing your tunic and Shepherds' cloak. You spot Blade talking to two newer Shepherds: raw recruits who have been given the unenviable task of guard duty along the compound walls. You can't hear Blade over the sudden howling of the wind, but his anger is bitingly clear even from a distance; he's talking to the two recruits in low, vicious tones, and the guards—one Elf man and a Mage woman—are looking cowed and resentful. Finally, you manage to approach. "Idiots, the both of you," Blade is saying with biting contempt. "Forget, if you ever thought of it, how it looks to a hostile public to see two Shepherd guards sleeping on duty. Forget how much faith you destroy by being lazy. But why—why did it not even occur to you to do it in <i>shifts</i>?" As you draw closer, Blade looks up and breaks off from his verbal reaming. He gives the guards one last parting word—some dark promise of punishment later, you assume—and begins to walk towards you. As he turns away, one of the guards says to the other: "He's not human, that one. You don't ever want to rest a moment, because he'll drop down on you like a hawk, sudden-like." The man says it quietly, but not so quietly that you and Blade both don't hear. Blade turns back, and the two guards look up, looking guilty and sullen. "Next time it might be a demon instead of me," Blade answers coldly. "Or an angry mob, or an assassin—and you might be on your way to the afterlife. Think about that the next time you decide to sleep on the job." The guards avert their eyes and murmur, "…Yes, Commander." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "bladeinterlude2i">><<setblade +3>><</link>></center>

Finally Blade turns back to you, and although his face relaxes slightly at the sight of you, you can still feel the chilly anger rolling off of him in waves. "<<c firstname>>," he says. "You wanted to speak to me." You nod, then cast a glance back at the cowed recruits. "I was just wondering if you were hungry—we could grab a meal together, if you are. But only if you don't use <i>me</i> as a punching bag, too." He casts a dark look back at them as well. "The difference is, <i>you </i>don't neglect your duties and put us all in danger by doing so." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"That\'s true. I\'m a good little soldier." <b>[SING-SONG]</b>' 'thatsbltrue'>><<if $charisma gte 25>><<setblade +1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Well, I <i>have</i> been known to catch a wink or two..."' 'wellblihave'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"It\'s really not that hard."' 'itsblreally'>><</link>></li> </ul>

For the briefest instance you think you catch Blade smirking faintly. Finally he sighs and says, "Let's eat, then. I need food if I'm going to stave off this coming headache." With one last frosty glare at the guards, who shudder like they've been touched by a ghost, the two of you depart for the refectory, leaving the chill of the winds outside. <<include "bladeinterlude2ii">>

Blade gives you a flat look. "Neither helpful nor amusing, <<c firstname>>." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Come on, it is a little funny."' 'comeblonit'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Who says I was joking?!"' 'whoblsays'>><<setblade -1>><<setloyal -4>><</link>></li> </ul>

Blade snorts, but you think you catch the faintest hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth. "Come on. If we're going to eat, I need something to stave off this coming headache." With one last dark look at the guards, who shudder like they've been touched by a ghost, the two of you depart for the refectory, leaving the chill of the winds outside. <<include "bladeinterlude2ii">>

Blade snorts, choosing for the moment not to comment on this—though he does look vaguely concerned. "Come on. If we're going to eat, I need something to stave off this coming headache." With one last dark look at the guards, who shudder like they've been touched by a ghost, the two of you depart for the refectory, leaving the chill of the winds outside. <<include "bladeinterlude2ii">>

Blade snorts. "Tell that to them." Then he sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose in irritation. "Come on, then. If we're going to eat, I need something to stave off this coming headache." With one last dark look at the guards, who shudder like they've been touched by a ghost, the two of you depart for the refectory, leaving the chill of the winds outside. <<include "bladeinterlude2ii">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Inside...</span></div></div>' "youblsitat">><</link>></center>

You sit at a table near the head of the room, the two of you markedly alone as you eat. Glancing around, you notice that other tables in the refectory are full… but that the other recruits seem to be pointedly avoiding you. Blade doesn't look up from methodically cutting his steak into pieces. "It's me, not you," he says, without concern. "Other recruits balk at the idea of sharing a table with their commander." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Doesn\'t that... bother you? Doesn\'t it get lonely?"' 'doesntblthat'>><<setloyal +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Lucky me, then. I get you all to myself."' 'luckyblmethen'>><<setblade +1>><<if $gender is "female">><<set $bladeromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Yeah, I can\'t blame them. You are pretty intimidating to be around."' 'yeahblicant'>><<setloyal -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Blade lifts one shoulder in a careless shrug. "Not particularly," he answers. "I didn't have many friends growing up. Too many rivals, jealous of my trajectory—and Khehi Ket aren't encouraged to form attachments, anyway. Especially not when they're groomed to become military leaders. Too many friends turn out to be spies, traitors. Others are just bound to die." <<include "laterblhe">>

Blade snorts. "Are you sure you aren't just kissing up to your commander?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Trust me, Blade, if I was kissing up to you, you would know." <b>[INNUENDO]</b>' 'trustblme'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"No, I like you for you. The fact that you\'re Commander doesn\'t have anything to do with it."' 'noblilike'>><<setblade +1>><<if $gender is "female">><<set $bladeromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> </ul>

Blade chokes abruptly on his drink and lapses into a coughing fit. <<include "laterblhe">>

Blade looks away, but this time you definitely catch the shadow of a smile playing around the corner of his mouth. "You're very… honest," he says, sounding amused. "It's… refreshing." <<include "laterblhe">>

"Yes," Blade agrees glibly. "It's on purpose at least half of the time. It gets me out of awkward social interactions." <<include "laterblhe">>

Later, he suddenly turns to you as you're scraping your bowl clean. "What did you think of that?" he asks you. You blink. "Think of what?" He gestures curtly. "What happened outside. With the guards." <<include "bladereamchoice">>

"You're Commander," you remind him. "You can do whatever you want." Blade stares at you. "That may be so. Still, I've come to value your opinion." <<include "bladereamchoice">>

Blade is silent for a long moment; he seems perturbed. "But they took naps while on guard duty," he says slowly, as if puzzled by your answer. "They willingly jeopardized the lives of everyone in the Order." You shake your head. "That's an extreme conclusion to draw," you tell him. "Yes, they neglected their duties, and there should be consequences for that. But I wouldn't equate what they did as an intentional move towards murder. Not everything's so black and white—and everyone has flaws." Blade frowns. "You really believe that?" "Of course. Do <i>you</i> think you're without flaw?" "No," Blade answers. "But I would never willingly fail in my appointed task. The very idea is unfathomable to me." <<include "bladepensive">>

Blade nods, but he still looks slightly troubled. "I don't question myself often," he says. "But I find myself wondering—do they deserve a harsher punishment for taking naps on duty? Do they deserve a chance to redeem themselves? Is my treatment of the Shepherds what I intend, or does it affect morale in a way that I'm unaware of?" He looks away, dark eyes pensive. "When I was preparing to lead before, I—" Then he suddenly looks at you and stops talking. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"What do you mean, before?"' 'whatbladedoyou'>><<setblade +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Leave the topic alone.' 'bladepensive'>><</link>></li> </ul>

But Blade only shakes his head. "It doesn't matter," he says tersely. <<include "bladepensive">>

A little silence falls for a moment as you both stare at your plates. You can't help but notice that other diners in the refectory—other Shepherd recruits—are now glancing at you and Blade surreptitiously. Have they heard already what happened outside, with the guards? Or are they just plain shocked that you would dare to be on such casual terms with your fearsome leader? Finally Blade says, "The Ket are all about order. It might be our fatal flaw. It's bound up into us, into our very spirits. Our lives revolve around order, structure, authority—and unquestioning subservience." "Sounds like… a fun way to live life," you comment, but he doesn't laugh. "Not fun," Blade says seriously, "but it is the only way. The only way a society of warriors with super-strength can function without dissolving into bloody chaos and power struggles. And so from birth the Ket—particularly the Khehi Ket—are conditioned to obey their superiors unthinkingly, and to fulfill their given missions without hesitation." He lapses into silence again. "Sometimes I wonder if that conditioning leads me to demand too much of others." Then: "Or if it causes me to follow the Autarch blindly—perceiving her as the highest authority in the land." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I think you\'re doing just fine."' 'ibladethinkyoure'>><<setblade +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I think you could stand to go a little easier on people."' 'ibladeyoucould'>><<setloyal -3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"How did you come to serve the Autarch, anyway?"' 'howbladedidyou'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

"We're sort of all forced to follow the Autarch blindly," you remark. "It's just the way the world is. And as for leading the others—we're all still alive, aren't we? I think you're doing fine." Blade smiles faintly; he seems both pleased and a little shy about it. "Thank you, <<c firstname>>." <<include "afterbladeyour">>

Blade shoots you a pensive look and makes a noise, but says nothing else in response. <<include "afterbladeyour">>

Blade looks guarded. "The same way anyone does," he answers—just as cryptic as ever. <<include "afterbladeyour">>

After your meal, by silent agreement the two of you walk together back to the perimeter of the compound. The two guards are still standing at their posts, their backs now ramrod straight and their eyes alertly scanning the crowds of Ashtown. You pass them without comment, and when you've walked a little way down the street, you say, "Look—whatever you did worked. Those guards are doing their jobs now that you've put the fear of $god into them. And they'll obey your orders from now on." Blade looks grim. "But at what cost?" he asks. "I've commanded their obedience for now—but what of their loyalty?" <<include "bladeconvo2">>

"Yes," Blade answers, without rancor. "I've had good reason to be." "Such as?" Blade smiles, but it's a smile full of irony and self-deprecation. "Since I was a child, I've been well-versed in the arts of subterfuge, espionage, and warfare. All Ket are. It's how our people deal with each other. Warring Ket city-states send <i>Khehi</i> operatives to infiltrate rival cities, letting them build lives there, asking them to spy and wait for an opportunity to strike at the heart of the infrastructure. Your lifelong neighbor could well be an assassin from another city-state; your closest friend could be your greatest saboteur. <i>Khehi</i> children are trained to look at a room and gauge at least three different ways they could get out of it if everyone inside were to turn on them." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Seems like a happy childhood."' 'seemsbllikea'>><<setblade +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Have you ever been betrayed by someone close to you?"' 'haveblyouever'>><<setblade +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"That\'s no way to live."' 'thatsblnoway'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"No wonder the Autarchy wants to dismantle Ket society."' 'noblwonderthe'>><<setblade -12>><</link>></li> </ul>

He laughs, a little shortly. "Oh, the happiest," Blade answers. "What child wouldn't be happy imagining their friends—even their schoolteachers—slipping a knife between their ribs in the night?" You shake your head. "It could certainly give you a bleak outlook on life." "Hence the paranoia," Blade says dryly. "As well as a marked difficulty forming attachments to other people." "Because they were always liable to die, or because you couldn't trust them not to kill you?" <<nobr>><<if $heritage is "Ket">> "Both. You're lucky your community wasn't like that. It's rare to be among Ket who actually trust each other." <<else>> "Both." <</if>><</nobr>> You tilt your head. "But you're not among the Ket anymore. It's not like that nowadays." Blade's eyebrows lift. "Isn't it?" <<include "bladeconvo2">>

Blade just looks at you. "Or have you been assigned to betray someone else?" you add. "Both," Blade says flatly. <<nobr>><<if $blade lt 30>> <<include "bladeconvo2">> <<elseif $blade gte 30>> After a moment he adds, "It doesn't help that I was considered—promising, as I grew up. There were some who called me a prodigy, and I was given special training by the best masters. There were plenty of jealous rivals back then who would have loved to cut my throat, had the elders sanctioned their bloodfeud with me. There are even still some now." <br><br> "It's a wonder you let your guard down with <i>anyone</i>," you comment. <br><br> Blade nods. "I do find it a difficult endeavor—and often not worth it. Particularly when I have subordinates sleeping on the job." <<if $bladeromanceflag lte 0>> <<include "bladeconvo2">> <<elseif $bladeromanceflag gte 1>> "Maybe you should start forming more attachments, then," you tell him. "Trust begets trust." <br><br> Blade looks at you, and you think you see a spark of interest kindling in his eyes. "That seems risky," he says, his voice very dry. <br><br> You shrug slightly. "High risk, high reward." <br><br> "And whom do you suggest for such an experiment?" <br><br> "Anyone you like," you tell him with a smile. <br><br> Blade looks away, but he's smiling too. "I'll think on that," is all he says. <<include "bladeconvo2">> <</if>> <</if>><</nobr>>

"Thousands of years of Ket history would disagree with you," Blade notes dryly. But he seems to agree. You add, "So you think the guards wouldn't have napped if they'd been Ket?" "A Ket has his or her flaws, the same as any person," Blade notes. "We are all different individuals. But I think the culture deters it more—and it certainly ensures that they'd have much more shame about it when caught." <<include "bladeconvo2">>

Blade's face closes up like the walls of a fortress. "The Ket's problems affect the Ket," he says, stony now. "Nothing justifies genocide." "And yet you're working for the very entity that instigated that genocide," you challenge. Blade meets your gaze with an icy stare. "So are you," he replies softly. "Perhaps you should consider the similar circumstances that landed us in this position." Then he turns away in silence. <<include "bladeconvo2">>

Blade looks annoyed at the very thought of the 'incident.' "Perhaps," he admits. "It's galling to think that mere children managed to scale the wall without anyone noticing. What if it hadn't been children? What if it hadn't been a tomato?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"What if the sun fell out of the sky and plummeted to earth, turning everyone to ashes?"' 'whatblifthesun'>><<if $blade gte 50>><<setcharisma +1>><<setblade +1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You make a good point. We were lucky."' 'youblmakea'>><<setblade +1>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I would have stopped whoever it was."' 'iblwouldhave'>><<setblade +1>><<setcourage +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

<<nobr>><<if $blade gte 30>> Blade looks at you, lips twitching. "I suppose I can't tell the guards to watch out for that," he concedes. <<include "bladeconvo2">> <<elseif $blade lt 30>> Blade half-glares at you. "<i>My</i> scenario is entirely possible," he says austerely. "Such is life as a Shepherd. At least I could rest easy if the sun fell, knowing it was never preventable." <<include "bladeconvo2">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Blade shakes his head. "And I despise luck," he notes. "It being something entirely out of my control." <<include "bladeconvo2">>

Blade smirks a little, amused. "You didn't stop the children." You pick a piece of lint off your shoulder. "I'd already determined they were not a threat." Now he's struggling to hold back a laugh. "We are so lucky to harbor such a devout recruit," Blade notes, inclining his head in a vaguely sarcastic way. "And yet you can't be around to protect us all of the time. We are all interlocking gears in a system—and I can't tolerate it when one of the gears fails." <<include "bladeconvo2">>

"You can't stay this—vigilant all the time," you say. "This guarded." Blade stares at you as if you've suddenly started speaking another language. "What do you do to unwind?" you clarify. "I train," Blade says, a little hesitantly. "It clears my mind." You shake your head. "Aside from that. What do you do for fun?" There's a long silence. "I eat," Blade says finally. "That can be enjoyable." You press your lips together. There's your answer, you suppose. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"What a boring man you are."' 'whatblaboring'>><<setblade -3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"What <i>would</i> you do for leisure, if you had the time?"' 'whatblwouldleisure'>><<setblade +3>><</link>></li> <<if $gender is "female">><li><<link '"You just need someone to show you how to have fun."' 'youbljustneed'>><<set $bladeromanceflag += 1>><<setblade +3>><</link>></li><</if>> </ul>

Blade's features flatten. "I think that is the wrong term to call me," he says stiffly. "But you're welcome to think whatever you like." <<include "bladeconvo2">>

Blade's look clears a little. "I've enjoyed reading poetry, or books of history and philosophy," he says slowly. "I find it—quieting. And I like gardening." You try to picture Blade in a gardening hat with a pair of shears. "You should introduce those things into your routine," you tell him, trying to hide a smile. "Lower your stress a little." The dark-haired Ket shakes his head. "I don't have the time. The demands on the leader of the Shepherds are great." "You have the time to talk to me right now," you point out. <<nobr>><<if $blade gte 35>> <br><br> Blade smiles briefly. "So far I've found it an enjoyable pursuit," he says. "Maybe it will serve as a good substitute." He cocks his head at you. "And what do you do to… relax?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I like to train as well."' 'ilikebltotrain'>><<setstrength +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I like to read, sometimes write."' 'iblliketoread'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I like to draw or paint."' 'iblliketodraw'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I like to take long walks or hike."' 'iblliketowwalk'>><<setstrength +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I like to do magical research and study spells."' 'ibllikemagical'>><<setmagic +1>><</link>></li> </ul> <<elseif $blade lt 35>> <br><br> "True," he says, musing. "Perhaps I should start ignoring you in favor of reading a book or growing a plant." <br><br> "Well, I didn't say that," you begin. <br><br> He lifts his eyebrows. "That was the meaning I took." <br><br> "It's not the one I meant." <br><br> "Hm," is all Blade says. But he seems amused. <<include "bladeconvo2">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Blade nods, his lips quirking. "A kindred spirit," he notes. "We should train together more." <<include "bladeconvo2">>

Blade tilts his head. "What do you favor?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"History books, or myths and legends."' 'historyblbooks'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Academic texts on theory and composition."' 'academicbltexts'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Romance novels."' 'romanceblnovels'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Erotic novels."' 'eroticblnovels'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Fantasy novels."' 'fantasyblnovels'>><<setmagic +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Adventure novels."' 'adventureblnovels'>><<setblade +1>><<setcourage +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Horror novels.' 'historyblbooks'>><<setcourage +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Mystery novels.' 'historyblbooks'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Humor novels.' 'humorblbooks'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Blade nods thoughtfully. "If you have any recommendations," he says, "let me know." <<include "bladeconvo2">>

Blade nods thoughtfully. "An academic," he notes. "I see." <<include "bladeconvo2">>

Blade blinks. "A romantic," he says slowly. "I'm one, too." But when you turn to stare at his face, his expression is carefully schooled into blankness in a way that tells you he's joking. <<include "bladeconvo2">>

Blade blinks, slow and catlike. "Ah," he says in his deep voice. "Exactly my kind of thing." But when you turn to stare at his face, his expression is carefully schooled into blankness in a way that tells you he's joking. <<include "bladeconvo2">>

Blade raises an eyebrow. "They're not too… fanciful for you?" You grin at him. "I like fanciful." Blade nods thoughtfully. "I see." <<include "bladeconvo2">>

Blade nods thoughtfully. "If you have any recommendations, let me know." <<include "bladeconvo2">>

Blade makes a disconcerted sound, but when you look at him, his face is carefully blank. "I… see…" <<include "bladeconvo2">>

Blade makes the slightest grimace. "I admire that. I don't have the slightest artistic bone in my body." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Blood is a kind of paint, too!"' 'bloodblisakind'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Anyone can be an artist if they want to."' 'anyoneblcanbe'>><</link>></li> </ul>

At this, Blade stifles a laugh. "That's gruesome, <<c firstname>>." <<include "bladeconvo2">>

Blade shrugs lightly. "You haven't seen me paint, yet." <<include "bladeconvo2">>

Blade nods. "We should go on a hike sometime," he says, casual—though you know he wouldn't make that offer to just anybody. <<include "bladeconvo2">>

Blade's lips twitch. "I always knew you'd make a very handy addition to the Order," he comments. <<include "bladeconvo2">>

Blade smirks at you. "And you would be that person?" "I would take on the onerous task," you answer, mock-serious. Then you grin at him. "I can think of all manner of things we could do." "It sounds dangerous," Blade drawls, looking wry. You cock your head. "Have you ever been one to shy away from danger?" His dark-eyed gaze never leaves you. "No," Blade answers. He looks half-amused—and half-intrigued. <<include "bladeconvo2">>

Blade looks at you, both with caution and curiosity in his gaze. Finally he says, "I think I've talked enough about the Ket—and myself. In fact, I think it's time that I heard more about <i>you</i>." You're taken aback, but manage to say, "A fact for a fact, then. I'll say something about myself, you say something about yourself." Blade's eyes glint with hidden humor. "A fair exchange," he concedes. "I couldn't possibly argue with that." <<include "bladeculture">>

So you walk for a while, talking quietly. The conversation flows with surprising ease: Blade is a keen listener who absorbs everything you say and prompts you with questions of his own. The conversation never broaches too delicate of a territory—you cover pleasant topics, idle thoughts you've had and little harmless facts about each other. He learns about your travels and your hobbies; you learn that he is an atheist who gets queasy on the sea and hates the taste and smell of mutton. "And fears?" he asks you. "Are you afraid of anything?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Heights."' 'bladesbllips'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Insects."' 'bladesbllips'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Snakes."' 'bladesbllips'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Drowning."' 'bladesbllips'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Crowds."' 'bladesbllips'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Needles."' 'bladesbllips'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Hmm, nothing comes to mind..."' 'bladesbllips'>><<setblade -1>><<setloyal +1>><</link>></li> <<if $charisma gte 15>><li><<link '"Oh, you know, the usual. Dying alone."' 'bladesbllips'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $cunning gte 15>><li><<link '"Nice try, Commander. If you think I\'d reveal something so vulnerable so easily, you should reconsider your idea of me."' 'bladesphobias'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li><</if>> </ul>

Blade's lips quirk, though whether in understanding or approval, you're not sure. "I suppose I can't blame you for that answer, <<c rank>>." <<include "youturntohimblade">>

Blade's lips quirk. "I see." <<include "youturntohimblade">>

You turn to him. "And you?" <<nobr>><<if $blade gte 35>> Blade tilts his head in thought for a moment. Finally he says, utterly serious: "Being helpless while someone I love is being hurt. Or killed." <br><br> "I should have known it would be something morbid like that." <br><br> Blade actually scrunches his nose. "You must have hoped for something mundane to tease me about." <br><br> "Oh, yes," you quip. "Clowns or spiders or something. Something to make you shriek like a little girl." <<else>> He shakes his head. "That's a secret." <br><br> "Oh, come on. You're saying you don't trust me?" <br><br> But Blade only smiles to himself and walks on. <</if>><</nobr>> You think you wander aimlessly, but in fact Blade might be deftly guiding the two of you in a wide circuit of the city—you're not sure if he ever just <i>wanders.</i> At some point he says, "There are some things that might prove useful for you to know, when dealing with other Ket. We often communicate silently, through our body language, rather than using words. A Ket who slips his hands to the back of his belt, for example, is signaling to you that he comes in peace, as a gesture of goodwill. A Ket who touches the front of his belt, or flexes both hands at once, is indicating hostility and a preparedness to fight. If he holds his palm out to you, bare-handed, it is a gesture of friendship." <<nobr>><<if $gender is "female" and $bladeromanceflag gte 2>> "And the gesture for love?" you ask. "What would that be?" <br><br> Blade smiles crookedly. "That is not a gesture at all," he says. "It is a pledge that transcends words." <<include "bladeculture2">> <<else>> <<include "bladeculture2">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<set $bladetrait2 to "complex">><<set $bladestatus to "You've managed to get him to open up more, but you still feel as if he's a mystery.">>He is demonstrating to you one such gesture when a passerby in the crowd suddenly reaches out and seizes his hand. Blade's look darkens in an instant, like a cloud overtaking the sun—and before you know it, he's both shoved you protectively behind him and flipped the man grabbing his hand into a nearby shopkeeper's stall. The resulting crash is terrifying, splinters of cheap wood flying everywhere. But Blade, undeterred, draws his sword amid gasps and screams from bystanders and approaches the man lying in the ruined stall. You hurry after him, feeling your magic flare to life. Blade is speaking to the man in the pile of wood in a low voice. The man stirs after a moment, moans, then says, "I don't know what yer talking about, you fuckin' loon!" Blade draws back, brow furrowed. You bend to take a look at the man, but you don't recognize him: he's a scruffy, lanky specimen, dressed in a dirty overcoat and patched trousers. He reeks of alcohol. "A drunk," you say, looking up at Blade. "He's drunk. He must have thought you were shaking his hand, or something." Blade is staring down at the man with consternation. "Is that all it is?" he asks softly. You stare at him. "What else are you expecting?" He looks at you with dark eyes. But before he can answer, the owner of the stall returns, shrieking like a hellion, and the crowd of watchers undulates around you: pressing forward with clamoring interest, then drawing back again in fear. Blade's deadly black sword is still hanging naked in the air between you. After another wary glance at the groaning drunkard, he sheathes it quickly and turns to make his apologies to the shopkeeper whose stall he's ruined. Some money exchanges hands, blindingly fast. But the damage has already been done, and as Blade draws you away from the crowd, you already hear the whispers: <i>That's the Commander of the Shepherds. That's the man they call the Kingslayer, Son of Corvus, Death's Shadow. He doesn't just kill demons—he kills people, too!</i> The words ring in your head long after you've left the busy street. They circle around in your skull so that you feel choked with them. As a result, neither you nor Blade speak again until you reach the compound. The guards are still there, saluting the two of you sharply—but you think that, when you pass, their eyes are turned away from you in fear. Or maybe hidden laughter. <<include "bladeover">>

<<setblade +5>>Blade glances up at you as you approach him in his office. "Good," he says perfunctorily, rising from his desk. "I was just thinking of you. Will you accompany me to the market? There's something I'd like to buy." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Grin. "Aw, you were thinking of me?"' 'grinblaw'>><<if $gender is "female">><<set $bladeromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Shrug. "Sure. I have nothing better to do."' 'shrugblsure'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Sweep a dramatic bow. "Nothing would please me better than to escort milord on a shopping errand."' 'sweepbladramatic'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Blade rolls his eyes. "Let's go." <<include "youblwalktogether">>

Blade nods. "Let's go." <<include "youblwalktogether">>

Blade rolls his eyes. "Let's go." <<include "youblwalktogether">>

You walk together to the Market Quarter, talking peacefully all along the way. Blade leads you to a section of the market dedicated to selling foreign imports, stopping in front of a little stall full of wares from the North. His keen eyes pass over the goods, and he picks up something that looks like a crossbow, examining it as you chat together. Then, suddenly, the voice of the stall-owner growls: "Let it be." You and Blade both look up to find a grizzled old Ket glaring from the shadows of his stall. His baleful, dark eyes take in Blade as he spits: "I don't serve the likes of you. Traitor!" Blade frowns, but he silently drops the crossbow and moves on to the next stall. You hurry to catch up to his brisk, long-legged strides. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Did you know that man?"' 'didblyouknow'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Why did he call you traitor?"' 'whybldidhe'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"How rude! Do you want me to go back there and give him a piece of my mind?"' 'howblrudedo'>><<setblade +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

"No," Blade answers—and for a moment that's all he seems inclined to say. <<include "thenblseveral">>

Blade doesn't answer for a long moment. <<include "thenblseveral">>

Blade shakes his head jerkily. "No," he says. "Leave him." For a moment that's all he seems inclined to say. <<include "thenblseveral">>

Then, several stalls later, while you're looking over a selection of painted glazed vases and intricate rugs, Blade sighs and says: "…You've likely heard things about me. Haven't you?" You stare at him. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"You\'re being very vague."' 'bladesbltwitch'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Uh... what do you mean?"' 'bladesbltwitch'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Maybe...?"' 'bladesbltwitch'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'ve heard... some rumors..."' 'bladesbltwitch'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Blade's lips twitch, though he looks more tired than amused. "You might as well know," he mutters, his eyes sliding away from you; you can't tell if he's talking to himself or you. "In case anything happens. You'd be the person best suited to..." Then he trails off and shrugs slightly, as if to himself. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Wave a hand in front of his face. "Um, Blade? What are you talking about?"' 'bladeblsighs'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Remain silent. He\'s acting strange.' 'bladeblsighs'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Nudge him. "Hey. Don\'t go all enigmatic on me."' 'bladeblsighs'>><<setblade +1>><<if $gender is "female">><<set $bladeromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> </ul>

Blade sighs again, then closes his eyes, seeming to wrestle with himself. When he opens them again, spearing you with his classic dark-eyed look, he says in a very low, reluctant voice: "You've likely heard rumors that I was an assassin. Before I became a Shepherd. That I was one of the Continent's deadliest contract-killers." He grimaces. "I should tell you now that the rumors are mostly true." You stare at him, not quite knowing what to say. Blade forges on, still speaking so quietly that no one else can hear. "Many Ket become assassins. In the old days, it was one of the highest ranks you could attain among the Khehi Ket; one of our greatest honors." He pauses. "And I started young. I was called Kingslayer, for my prowess and my skill, and for my ability to eliminate high-profile targets despite all odds. And I…" He hesitates again. "…I was also a member of a rebel group. All Ket, all my kinsmen. The Ket Rebellion. We are—were—based in Ygrath, my homeland. There was an entire city of us. There still is, hidden away in the mountains." He falls silent for a long moment, as if struggling to find the right words. You wait, aware that this is the most you've heard him talk at length for a while, and wonder what prompted this sudden confession. Blade looses a breath. "I grew up in the rebellion. I devoted my life to it. And during my work for it, I was deployed all across the Continent, armed and weaponized in the fight against the Autarchy. I was sent to eliminate many of its most powerful leaders. Consortium politicians. Influential nobles. Anyone whose death could undermine the Autarchy's stranglehold on Blest." His eyes flare. "That is how I earned my title. And over the years, I became… something of a hero to my people." You watch his face, trying to read his emotions. It's hard to say if Blade is… ashamed of his past, or pained about it, or conflicted, or if he misses it, or… something else entirely. He watches you watching him and continues slowly: "It all came to a head eventually. I had proved my worth and ability for several years; most thought me to be the world's greatest assassin. And so, at last, I was deployed on my final mission…" His voice drops to an almost imperceptible hush. "To come to Haven and kill the Autarch." Time seems to slow around you. You stand there, in the middle of the busy, crowded market, as shopkeepers hawk their wares and passerby bustle around you. Blade's face is pale and grave amidst the milieu. You're not sure you've ever heard those words spoken out loud before; at least not by anyone still alive. <i>Kill the Autarch</i>. The very words seem sacrilegious, blasphemous, or at the very least, poisonous to speak. You half-expect the Inquisitors to drop down suddenly on you from above. <ul class="choices"> <<if $cunning gte 25>><li><<link '"So are you saying... this has all been a long ploy to... eliminate you-know-who?"' 'soblareyou'>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link '"But you failed... obviously."' 'butblyoufailed'>><<setblade -1>><<setcharisma -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Why didn\'t you go through with it?"' 'whybldidntyou'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"How did you feel when you were told to do that?"' 'howbldidyoufeel'>><<setblade +1>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"So what happened next?"' 'soblwhathappened'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Blade shakes his head. "No," he says. "I said my farewells to those I needed to. I went to Haven. And then I infiltrated the Sun Court." <<include "yourbleyebrowsraise">>

His mouth twitches into a faint frown. "Obviously," he says, with a hint of sarcasm. "Though I got far enough. I said my farewells to those I needed to. I went to Haven. And then I infiltrated the Sun Court." <<include "yourbleyebrowsraise">>

Blade shakes his head. "I tried." He sighs. "I said my farewells to those I needed to. I went to Haven. And then I infiltrated the Sun Court." <<include "yourbleyebrowsraise">>

Blade sighs. "Mixed," he admits. "I was proud to be given the duty, in a way honored that such a thing had been entrusted to me. It was what we'd all dreamed about for years in the rebellion, and I was the one who was chosen to see it through. But…" He looks grim. "But I also knew it was a suicide mission. There was a reason why no one has ever succeeded in killing an Autarch, not in two hundred years of truly desperate people trying. I knew that in the unlikely chance I was to succeed, I would either die in the moment or shortly afterwards, anyway." He sighs again. "But I said my farewells to those I needed to. I went to Haven. And then I infiltrated the Sun Court." <<include "yourbleyebrowsraise">>

He sighs. "I said my farewells to those I needed to. I went to Haven.And then I infiltrated the Sun Court." <<include "yourbleyebrowsraise">>

Your eyebrows raise. "You actually managed to get in?" He nods, his mouth twisting. "It was actually easier than I expected," Blade admits, with a dark kind of humor. "I even made it all the way to the Autarch's private chambers." But then he shakes his head. "But then I failed—and was caught. I remember how they brought me before her to be executed: I was still wondering if there was a chance I could drive my blade into her ribs before I died." You can hardly believe the story, if not for the fact that Blade is honest almost to a fault—at least when he does choose to speak. You wait in silence as he concludes: "But then… she spared me." His eyes meet yours. "The Autarch. She saw an assassin who was skilled enough to make it all the way to her bedchamber, and instead of letting her Inquisitors dissect me in the Chrysalis… she granted me mercy." He shakes his head, as if in wonder. "She even asked me to form the Shepherds. A man of my talents, she said, could not go to waste. She preferred that I use my abilities to devote myself to protecting the innocents of Haven, instead; to put my powers and talents to use for the greater good, slaying demons rather than… her." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"...There must be a catch."' 'thereblmustbe'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Wow. I... I didn\'t know the Autarch could be so... merciful."' 'wowbliididnt'>><<setloyal +2>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"So you agreed? You agreed to work for the very person you\'d just spent your life trying to bring down?"' 'soblyouagreed'>><<setblade -2>><<setloyal -2>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"But you didn\'t really have a choice, right? It would be leading the Shepherds, or death?"' 'butblyoudidnt'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Blade shakes his head. "There is none," he says. "I've examined every part of the situation, and I've found no reason to mistrust her. She's done everything exactly as she said she would: given us funds, fighters, and the freedom to do what we need to in order to protect Blest." He lifts one shoulder in a shrug. "It baffles me, too, but there it is." <<include "heblrunsahand">>

Blade nods. "I didn't, either," he said. "And that revelation… shook my worldview quite a lot. I'd thought the Autarch an inhuman monster; I'd be raised on stories of her cruelty, her depravity, her utter inability to possess fairness or kindness. But if she was capable of extending mercy to a mortal enemy—to her would-be assassin—what else was I wrong about?" He pauses. "Over time, I began to see the merit—the nobility, even—in her proposal. Her priority was ensuring the safety of her citizens, of the poor and the vulnerable who couldn't defend themselves. She very well could have allocated her resources to protecting her nobles, but she created the Order specifically to safeguard the weak. And she dared to allow Diminished fighters to carry out her will, too; to give them free reign with their powers when she should have feared them." He pauses meaningfully. "And the fact that she chose me to lead that order… I think it speaks to her character." <<include "heblrunsahand">>

Blade makes an unhappy gesture, something like a shrug. "I didn't have much of a choice initially," he says. "It was either that, or death. But over time, I began to see the merit—the nobility, even—in her proposal. Her priority was ensuring the safety of her citizens, of the poor and the vulnerable who couldn't defend themselves. She very well could have allocated her resources to protecting her nobles, but she created the Order specifically to safeguard the weak. And she dared to allow Diminished fighters to carry out her will, too; to give them free reign with their powers when she should have feared and oppressed them." He pauses meaningfully. "The fact that she would forgive a mortal enemy of hers—a would-be assassin—and allow him to lead that Order… I think it speaks to her character." <<include "heblrunsahand">>

"You were essentially forced into the position," you conclude, watching his face. Blade makes an unhappy gesture, something like a shrug. "Yes and no," he admits. "It's true I wasn't given much of a choice… but I saw the merit—the nobility, even—in her proposal. Her priority was ensuring the safety of her citizens, of the poor and the vulnerable who couldn't defend themselves. She very well could have allocated her resources to protecting her nobles, but she created the Order specifically to safeguard the weak. And she dared to allow Diminished fighters to carry out her will, too. The fact that she would forgive a mortal enemy of hers—a would-be assassin—and allow him to lead that Order… I think it speaks to her character." <<include "heblrunsahand">>

<<set $bladestatus to "He confided one of his most closely-guarded secrets to you.">>He runs a hand absently over the rough fibers of a woven rug. "I was torn on the matter for a long time," he says finally, his gaze somewhere very far away. "At first, I resented being forced to work for the very entity I had devoted my life to destroying. But then I began to see other threads. We in the Ket rebellion had spent our lives trying to kill her… but we had no plan for what would happen after that. We were short-sighted, children playing at war. What form of government would reign if the Autarchy were to be dismantled? What bloody chaos would ensue, and how would we control it? Who would take control, if anyone? Who would be united enough to fend off the Endarkened in the power vacuum that would be left behind?" He shakes his head. "We thought of none of this—or we didn't care about it. We just blindly plotted her destruction, without considering the effects it would have on the rest of the world." He presses his mouth together. "The Autarchy is still evil: I know that. I must swallow that fact every day we serve it. But at least it is a <i>known</i> evil; one that can be slowly altered from the inside, as we are doing now. At least the Autarch formed the Shepherds at all, and at least she has the might to impose order, and to protect the Children of Light from the Endarkened. If the whole thing were to collapse, I'm afraid the entire world would collapse with it—and there would be far more death and destruction wrought then, more than there is being done today. It might be the last linchpin that has us falling to the demons themselves. What if that's what they want?" He clenches his fists. "I would rather change the system from the inside, or at least mitigate it—even if it means working with my enemy—in order to minimize the conflict and violence that would be inflicted on the rest of the world. That, I think, is preferable to tearing the Autarchy down from the outside—and tearing down everyone else with it." He falls silent for a long time after that. Mindlessly, you move together through the narrow avenues, navigating the usual crowds and the stalls crammed side-by-side. Your shoulders bump occasionally, but Blade doesn't appear to notice. Neither of you are really looking at the wares anymore. Finally Blade says softly: "That is why you see some people call me traitor: some of them know what I am. And I can't deny it. I have betrayed my people, everything I once stood for." He shakes his head. "I did question my own thinking. I wondered… if my obedience to the Autarch stems from the Ket's natural obedience to authority. To our in-bred need to listen to something higher than ourselves, to look for a leader who can command us. But I've gone over it over and over, and that is the conclusion I've reached." He takes a breath. "For better or worse, that is the cause I now serve." <ul class="choices"> <<if $bladeromanceflag gte 10>><li><<link 'Reach out and take his hand. "And I\'ll stand by you in that cause, no matter what."' 'reachbladeoutand'>><<set $bladeromanceflag += 1>><<setblade +3>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link 'You take a breath as well. "I think you did the right thing."' 'youbladetakeabreak'>><<setblade +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Shake your head. "I understand why you did what you did, but I can\'t forgive the Autarchy for its crimes."' 'shakebladeyourhead'>><<setloyal -10>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Frown. "I don\'t know what to think."' 'frownblidontknow'>><<setblade -1>><</link>></li> <<if $compassionate lt 35>><li><<link 'Move away from him. "You are a traitor."' 'moveblawayfrom'>><<setblade -40>><<set $bladehate to true>><<set $bladestatus to "He confided in you, and you betrayed his trust.">><</link>></li><</if>> </ul>

A faint, tired smile flickers over Blade's face, and for a moment, his large hand closes over yours, warm and strong. He looks at you and there's an unspoken… closeness in his gaze. Something like intimacy. "That's the one good thing about all of this," he says, his voice a quiet, hoarse rumble. "That I met you." <<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 15>> His other hand reaches up to pinch your cheek fondly, then falls away. <</if>><</nobr>> Then he releases your hand, though his touch lingers, as if he's reluctant to do it. <<include "youblbrowsethestalls">>

Blade's lips quirk; you almost dare to say he looks hopeful. "You think so?" You nod. "You're right. It's too black-and-white to say the Autarchy should be destroyed. For now, it's all we have, especially between us and the demons… so we need to work on a more nuanced approach to make things better." He visibly relaxes. "I'm… I'm glad you think so," he says finally, hoarsely. <<include "youblbrowsethestalls">>

Blade nods slowly. "I understand." Then he blinks. "But I hope you can stomach it enough to keep on serving with the Shepherds. That, at least, is the one good that the Autarchy's done." <<include "youblbrowsethestalls">>

Blade breathes out through his nose, but nods. "Understandable." <<include "youblbrowsethestalls">>

Blade frowns, but says nothing to dispute this. You say nothing more for the rest of the hour, and when you part, it's on chilly terms. You have the sense that Blade regrets confiding in you, and that he won't be doing it ever again. <<include "bladeover">>

You browse the stalls in silence for a while, not really seeing what you're doing. When you look up, you find Blade watching you carefully, as if he's trying to read your thoughts. He's holding a big clay pot in his hands, so awkwardly that it might break. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Tease him gently and change the subject. "Don\'t break that."' 'teaseblhimgently'>><<setblade +1>><<if $gender is "female">><<set $bladeromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Thank him for confiding in you.' 'thankblhimforconfiding'>><<setblade +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Ask him why he took you to the market, anyway.' 'askblhimwhyhe'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Blade blinks and looks down at the pot; then he snorts. "I never break anything unless I mean to," he tells you in a haughty, dignified way; but his eyes dance with quiet humor. You grin. "Here, give it here." "No. <i>You</i> might break it." "You're holding it like it's a sick baby!" "That is the proper way to hold fragile objects." You bicker playfully for a bit; but then, just as suddenly, something sparks in Blade's eye as he notices something, and he puts the pot down and moves to another table in the shop. "Here." <<include "heblholdsout">>

He smiles hesitantly. "I haven't told anyone about this," he admits. "Not even Trouble." He pauses. "It feels… better, to tell somebody of what happened. I'm glad I said something." He smiles, a bit sarcastically. "I'm sure it startled you to hear me talk so much. It was… weighing on me." Suddenly something sparks in his eye, and he moves to another table, hunting for something. "Here." <<include "heblholdsout">>

"Were you looking to buy something?" Blade blinks. "Ah." He moves over to another table, hunting for something. "Yes." <<include "heblholdsout">>

He holds out something to you; it looks like some sort of gold fountain pen, about the length of your hand and decorated with an elegant gold script along the barrel. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Um... I\'m not much of a writer."' 'itsblaknife'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Ooh, pretty!"' 'itsblaknife'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Oh, I love this! I could really use it in my writing."' 'itsblaknife'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Stare blankly. "What do you want me to do with that?"' 'itsblaknife'>><</link>></li> </ul>

"It's a knife," Blade tells you flatly, flipping the requisite coin to the silent shopkeeper, so quickly you can't even protest. "Here." He activates a hidden switch on the underside of the pen, and it abruptly elongates into a thin stiletto knife, the barrel of the pen serving as the knife's hilt. You stare as Blade presses it into your hand, closing your fingers around it. "Keep it with you," he says. "You never know when you might need an extra weapon. Especially one that's cleverly-hidden." You look at him. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"We came all the way here so you could buy me a knife?"' 'bladeblfrownsat'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I don\'t need this."' 'bladeblfrownsat'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I have a $mainweapon, I don\'t need a pen... knife... thing."' 'bladeblfrownsat'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Smile at him. "You\'re worried about me, aren\'t you?"' 'bladeblfrownsat'>><<if $gender is "female">><<set $bladeromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Laugh and accept the pen. "Thank you."' 'bladeblfrownsat'>><<setblade +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Blade frowns at you with his usual serious expression. "I want you to be safe," he says, <<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 10>> <<set $bladetrait1 to "protective">>a bit stubbornly. <<else>> <<set $bladetrait2 to "secretly kind">>scowling as if this were an embarrassing statement to make. <</if>><</nobr>> Then he looks vaguely abashed. "I'm… I'm glad that you joined the Order. Glad that I can talk to you, about these things. That I can trust you with this knowledge." He looks away, his voice roughening. "So stay safe. And carry that knife with you. Understand?" Abruptly, he turns away and begins to walk back to the compound. You follow, carrying the knife, knowing that that admission was probably more galling for him to make than the revelation that he tried to kill the Autarch. <i>I can't believe he made it all the way to her bedroom</i>. Once you get back, Blade abruptly parting from you like the hounds of Hael are after him, you go to your room and tuck the knife under your pillow. Just in case. <<include "bladeover">>

<<setblade +5>>You find Blade training in a lesser-used courtyard, as usual, moving fluidly through his sword forms and training stances in smooth, controlled movements. Despite the chill in the air, he's opted to strip off his shirt as he exercises, showing a pale ripple of muscle and a litany of paler, fainter scars. <<nobr>> <<if ((($gender is "female") and ($bladeromanceflag >= 5)) or (($attractedto is not "women") and ($ace is false) and ($aroace is false)))>> You tear your gaze away from his body without gawking too obviously. The man has muscle <i>everywhere</i>! You try not to wonder if Ket physique is just naturally <i>like that</i> or if it's the result of Blade's own personal brand of discipline… <</if>><</nobr>> Blade glances over at you, unselfconsciously, as he glides through his <i>shin'katta</i>, or sword forms. In this context, he's just another soldier: there isn't time for embarrassment or prudishness in the Ket ranks, you've heard. He inclines his head in greeting towards you, but keeps his silence. <<nobr>> <<if $redrelationship is "ex">> <br><br> You sigh. You've been wondering if he's seemed a bit brooding and distant towards you, these last few days, but you can't tell if you're imagining it, and that's just the laconic part of his personality, or if his aloofness is the result of something else. <<if $capradayoff is true>> You have been busy helping Red orchestrate the move out of Solhadur, so maybe he's just been giving you space to get things organized? <</if>> <<else>> However, the silence is a comfortable one, an indication that your presence is welcome. <</if>> <</nobr>> "Am I interrupting you?" you ask. Blade shakes his head. He answers just as calmly as if he were sitting at his ease, enjoying a drink: he's hardly broken a sweat. "Not at all. So long as you don't find it rude if I continue as we talk. Once you start this particular exercise, you're not supposed to stop until it's finished." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Eye his lean form. "Oh, by all means... continue."</div>' 'autogenerated_67807'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Blush and look away. "Oh, um... sure, that's fine."</div>' 'autogenerated_67808'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Bat your eyelashes at him. "I don't mind the show. It's a very impressive display of your... stamina." <b>[INNUENDO]</b></div>' 'autogenerated_67809'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Study the pattern of his forms. "That's an interesting technique: I've never seen it before."</div>' 'autogenerated_67810'>><<setintelligence +2>><<setblade +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Sigh dramatically. "Can't you stop for a second? It's weird talking to you while you're exercising."</div>' 'autogenerated_67811'>><<setblade -3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $gender is "female">> <<set $bladeromanceflag += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> Blade looks away, but you could swear his mouth twitching in a smirk. <<include 'finallyhewrapsupcurrentbout'>>

Blade nods curtly, seemingly oblivious to your reaction. <<include 'finallyhewrapsupcurrentbout'>>

<<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag >= 5>> <<set $bladeromanceflag += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>>Blade half-snorts, his mouth twitching. "Have a care, <<print $woman>>. This is supposed to be meditative." "What, am I distracting you? Breaking your concentration?" His dark eyes glint with humor. "<i>Enough</i>." <<include 'finallyhewrapsupcurrentbout'>>

"My cousin taught it to me," he answers calmly. "He learned it from his battle-master, when he was sent off for his training. My own… focused on different areas. And different training methods." <<include 'bladeinterlude4_technique'>>

"You could always wait until I'm done," Blade returns mildly, not pausing in his movements. "Ugh." <<include 'finallyhewrapsupcurrentbout'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Your cousin? How many do you have?"</div>' 'autogenerated_67812'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"What kind of training methods?"</div>' 'autogenerated_67813'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Sigh dramatically. "Can't you stop for a second? It's weird talking to you while you're exercising."</div>' 'autogenerated_67814'>><<setblade -3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

There's the slightest pause before Blade answers, his tone neutral, "Dozens. More than I can name. My family belongs to a large noble clan with many branches—we were one of the founding clans of Ygrath. My father's household was considered the main house, but there are many branch families, both on his side and my mother's. Of all my cousins, though, I was the youngest. I was born ten years after my brother." For some reason, the thought makes you smile: you wonder if other dark-haired, stern-faced Bronwyn children fawned and cooed over him as an infant. "Were you close to them?" Blade shrugs slightly. "Most of them were closest to my brother, who was their leader both in rank and in personality, and similar to them in age. They were more concerned with teasing me alongside him. But it wasn't as if we didn't get along." Very cryptic. <<include 'finallyhewrapsupcurrentbout'>>

"More brutal ones," Blade answers bluntly. "My teacher's students were intended to be used as tools of warfare, of assassination, so he focused less on basic exercises and more on pitting us against each other, to see who would emerge the victor. Most days ended with nursing our injuries." You whistle through your teeth. "And was that… effective?" He casts you a sardonic glance, as if to say, <i>You tell me</i>, but his voice is mild as he returns, "His training has kept me alive, so I can't exactly fault it. Still. I do find simple <i>'katta</i> more relaxing." <<include 'finallyhewrapsupcurrentbout'>>

"You could always wait until I'm done," Blade returns mildly, not pausing in his movements. "Ugh." <<include 'finallyhewrapsupcurrentbout'>>

<<set $bladebout to false>> Finally, he wraps up his current exercise, turning to you and steaming slightly in the cold. "Are you here for a bout?" he asks then, raising a brow expectantly. He jerks his head towards two blunted practice swords leaned up against the courtyard's lone tree. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Jump in eagerly. "Sure, I could always do with more training."</div>' 'autogenerated_67815'>><<set $bladebout to true>><<setblade +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Shake your head. "I just came to talk."</div>' 'autogenerated_67816'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Blade smiles briefly in approval. "I won't go easy on you," he warns. <<include 'bladeinterlude4_training'>>

Blade nods curtly and resumes his stances. <<include 'talkingtoblade3'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Strip your own shirt off. "I wouldn't ask you to."</div>' 'autogenerated_67817'>><<setblade +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Grin. "Good. That'd be no fun."</div>' 'autogenerated_67818'>><<setblade +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Wag your finger at him. "Don't sound so arrogant. I've improved since the last time we sparred."</div>' 'autogenerated_67819'>><<setblade +1>><<setcourage +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Pout. "Come on, even though I came all the way out here for you?"</div>' 'autogenerated_67820'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if (($bladeromanceflag >= 10) and ($gender is "female"))>> <<set $bladeromanceflag += 1>> Blade's eyes widen slightly, and he goes still and looks a bit blank as you tug off your shirt to reveal your bare midriff and breast-band underneath. "….What… are you doing?" <br><br> You glance at him quizzically. "I don't want to get my shirt all sweaty. Isn't that why you took <i>yours</i> off?" <br><br> He averts his gaze, seeming to find something of intense interest up in the gray, cloud-swollen sky. "…Right." <br><br> You assume the starting positions of a traditional spar, but it's hard to gauge Blade's starting strategy, since he seems to determined to look anywhere but you. After a moment of waiting through his odd hesitance, you decide to lunge forward and catch him off-guard. Instinctively, his sword flashes up to meet yours, and for several moments, the empty courtyard is filled with the sounds of your blades clashing together. <<else>> Blade smiles slightly. "I'm glad to hear it." <br><br> Then he drives forward pitilessly with his sword, and your own flashes up to meet him. For the next several minutes, you're locked in a surprisingly vicious sparring session—one so ferocious that there's no time to think or talk. The empty courtyard, with the somber, gray towers <<if $capradayoff>> of Solhadur <</if>> bracketing it on all sides, fills with the sounds of your blades clashing together. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'sparringwblade3'>>

<<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag >= 5>> <<set $bladeromanceflag += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> Blade smiles slightly. "I'm glad to hear it." Then he drives forward pitilessly with his sword, and your own flashes up to meet him. For the next several minutes, you're locked in a surprisingly vicious sparring session—one so ferocious that there's no time to think or talk. The empty courtyard, with the somber, gray towers <<nobr>> <<if $capradayoff>> of Solhadur <</if>> <</nobr>> bracketing it on all sides, fills with the sounds of your blades clashing together. <<include 'sparringwblade3'>>

<<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag >= 5>> <<set $bladeromanceflag += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> Blade smiles slightly. "I'm glad to hear it. Let's see if that's the case." He drives forward pitilessly with his sword, and your own flashes up to meet him. For the next several minutes, you're locked in a surprisingly vicious sparring session—one so ferocious that there's no time to think or talk. <<include 'sparringwblade3'>>

In lieu of an answer, Blade drives forward pitilessly with his sword, startling you into a yelp. You have to launch into a frantic defense just to fend him off, and for several minutes, there's no time to think or talk. <<include 'sparringwblade3'>>

You soon fall into a natural, seamless rhythm with each other; after a few hits, or "points," the explosive energy and pace of the bout relaxes enough so that you're almost lazily dueling with each other, though you can tell both you and Blade are still keenly alert for any openings. <<include "talkingtoblade3">>

As he moves, your eyes catch on the dark tattoo inked over his heart, alongside another on his right bicep. Both sport a simple, uncomplicated design. <<nobr>><<if $heritage is "Ket">> The one on his arm, at least, is something you recognize: plenty of Ket in your village carried the same tattoo. The mark of a Ket belonging to the warrior Khehi caste, though Blade's has slight regional differences. <</if>> <</nobr>> And again, you can't help but notice the battle marks mapped out across his body, the feathery white scars dusting his jaw, a fresher, pinker cut scored along his shoulder, a puckered seam across his ribs. <<nobr>><<if ($bladeromanceflag >= 20) and ($highestromance is "blade")>> Blade, catching your look, pauses. When you look at his face, you find him studying you, his face intent and Ket-patient and still. Your heart gives a strange little flutter, an airless constriction. You almost want to turn away. <br><br> "What is it?" he asks, almost cautiously. <<else>> His flat look doesn't waver. "What is it?" <</if>><</nobr>> <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Just looking at the damage. It's a good thing you're made of Ket material, or you'd have broken down a long time ago."</div>' 'autogenerated_67821'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You know you can have a Healer take care of those, right?"</div>' 'autogenerated_67822'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"What's that big scar from? The one across your ribs?"</div>' 'autogenerated_67823'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Say nothing. It's not something you want to bring up with him.</div>' 'talkingtoblade3_cont'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"I'm still going," Blade answers dryly. "As long as I'm in fighting form, the cosmetics don't matter." "Does it ever hurt?" Some people still feel the ache of old wounds, especially ones that look as vicious as these. He shakes his head. "Not in the least. The Ket, as you say, are durable. It's why they think we were forged by the gods to be their weapons." You make a thoughtful, humming sound. "Would that all tools of heaven were so unbreakable." <<include 'talkingtoblade3_cont'>>

Blade's only response is a little unimpressed sound down in his throat: why would he need to? <<nobr>><<if $coinscar is true>> "<i>You</i> haven't." <br><br> He's got you there. You smile ruefully, kneading the now-familiar coin-shaped scar on your palm. "True." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'talkingtoblade3_cont'>>

Blade hardly spares it a glance. "Spear gun." "<i>Spear</i> gun? As in—" "A harpoon, yes. I was sent to assassinate a high-born target. He was already prepared for my arrival and had hired a platoon of the best sellswords he could find. They were… overzealous in their preparations. Apparently my reputation had them convinced such a weapon was necessary." You wince. "I suppose it was sort of a compliment?" A wry, sardonic hint of a smile plays around Blade's eyes, though his expression remains perfectly straight-faced. "It didn't feel like it at the time." <<include 'talkingtoblade3_cont'>>

Your eyes land on the inked symbol on his chest again. "What does the tattoo mean?" "The one on my chest is called a <i>qul</i>," Blade answers calmly, bringing his sword up in a sharp jab. "The Code of War, the treaty law of the Ket city-states, dictates that all Ket receive one upon their official initiation into civil service. It indicates your allegiance and loyalty to your city-state, as well as your rank and caste." "So all Khehi Ket have it?" He nods. "There once came a time when warfare, espionage, and subterfuge were such a way of life for our people that our societies became plagued with paranoia and suspicion. To keep our ways honorable, the Code of War was instituted, and the <i>qul</i> was one of its stipulations. If ever you suspected someone of secretly being an enemy spy, an adversary who might backstab you or betray your country, all you had to do was look at his <i>qul</i> to determine the truth of things. Even if he lied insidiously, even if he was silent under the worst torture—the truth always existed <i>somewhere</i>. But you had to be skillful enough expose him in such a way, first. And any warrior who'd allow his <i>qul</i> to condemn him so easily was not fit to serve his state—so it was both a test as much as it was a way to ensure fairness and honor, even in our bloodiest dealings." He shakes his head. "It's… complicated. Nowadays, the <i>qul</i> isn't used for that so much as it is a cultural symbol, the mark of one's status as a warrior and their dedication to their cause." Something tightens around his eyes, even as the movements of his sword remain swift and precise. "I suppose mine is something of an irony, given the fact that I'm now a traitor to my state." He looks mirthless as he adds, "Ygrath has disavowed me, and I have turned my back on its cause, so I'm probably not fit to carry its mark." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Maybe you could get your <i>qul</i> removed, then? Surely there's procedures for that."</div>' 'autogenerated_67824'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Maybe you could get a new <i>qul</i>. Something that represents your dedication to your own cause: the Shepherds."</div>' 'autogenerated_67825'>><<setblade +3>><<set $bladeharden += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I think you should keep it if you want to. Whatever <i>they</i> think, I know you're still trying to do what's best for Ygrath."</div>' 'autogenerated_67826'>><<setblade +1>><<set $bladeharden += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Well, I think the whole concept is creepy. Like having your cattle branded with a mark of ownership."</div>' 'autogenerated_67827'>><<setblade -5>><<setcharisma -3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Blade doesn't respond for a moment, and his expression doesn't outwardly change, but the slightest shifting in his shoulders—the most imperceptible tilt of the head—expresses some measure of shock at the idea. He says, his voice unconcerned, "Perhaps," but you can tell it's unlikely he'll actually do that. <<include 'talkingtoblade3_qul'>>

Blade pauses for a moment, looking thoughtful. He nods slowly. "That would be… symbolic. Maybe you're right." And he actually smiles at you: a quiet, approving look. <<nobr>> <<if ($gender is "female") and ($bladeromanceflag >= 15) and ($highestromance is "blade")>> You feel warmed all the way through. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'talkingtoblade3_qul'>>

<<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag >= 10>> <<set $bladeromanceflag += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> Blade smiles at you, the look quiet and fond. "I appreciate that," he says, simple but sincere. <<include 'talkingtoblade3_qul'>>

Blade doesn't deign to give you a response to that. <<include 'talkingtoblade3_qul'>>

<<nobr>><<if ($appearance is "tattooed") or ($appearance is "scarred and tattooed")>> Then he changes the subject and says, <<if $heritage is "Ket">> "I've noticed you have your own tattoos." He glances at the small inked symbol on your wrist: the ill-fated mark that spelled out your status as <i>a child of the stars</i>. You remember how toweringly angry your father was when he returned home from one of his voyages to discover that you'd been encouraged to get it by your various "aunts" and "uncles." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Smile and tell him the story.</div>' 'autogenerated_67828'>><<setblade +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Hide the tattoo away from his scrutiny. It only dredges up painful memories.</div>' 'autogenerated_67829'>><<set $traumatized += 1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <<else>> "I've noticed you have your own tattoos. What do they mean?" <<include "talkingtoblade3_tattoos">> <</if>> <<else>> <<include "talkingtoblade3_reflection">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Blade smiles along with you. "It sounds as if they were well-intentioned," he says diplomatically. "They wanted you to feel the same as the other children who received their marks when they came of age. It was a gesture of love and welcome… even if it was somewhat misguided." You arch your brow at him. "Would <i>you</i> have gone through with it, in my position?" Blade looks droll. "I don't believe so, but only because I knew my parents would be displeased about it. I cared too much about propriety and obedience when I was younger: I rarely did anything they would have disapproved of. I also hated to be pressured into doing anything by people outside of my direct hierarchy, and probably would have refused any coaxing to get an illicit tattoo out of principle." You laugh at the thought of him being so buttoned-up and serious, even back then. He glances at your other tattoos. "And what about the others? What do they mean?" <<include 'talkingtoblade3_tattoos'>>

Blade pretends not to notice your sudden reservation. He glances at your other tattoos. "And what about the others? What do they mean?" <<include 'talkingtoblade3_tattoos'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"My tattoos are memorial. They represent important people, events, or themes that have influenced and shaped my life."</div>' 'talkingtoblade3_tattoos_response'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"My tattoos are conceptual. They represent philosophies, ideals, and rules I live by."</div>' 'talkingtoblade3_tattoos_response'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"My tattoos are aesthetic. They were chosen for a specific visual style, as an artistic and creative expression."</div>' 'talkingtoblade3_tattoos_response'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"My tattoos are random. They were the result of moments of impulse and spontaneity, representations of life's chaos and freedom in their meaninglessness."</div>' 'talkingtoblade3_tattoos_response'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"My tattoos are cultural. They serve as a way of connecting to and displaying my heritage, traditions, and roots."</div>' 'talkingtoblade3_tattoos_response'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"My tattoos are therapeutic. They cover the scars of the past and serve as symbols of fresh starts and growth."</div>' 'talkingtoblade3_tattoos_response'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"My tattoos are rebellious. They're a challenge, an overture, an act of defiance and nonconformity in a world that seeks to control me."</div>' 'talkingtoblade3_tattoos_response'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"My tattoos are a mix of a lot of things."</div>' 'talkingtoblade3_tattoos_response'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Blade listens intently as you describe the detailed backstory behind your tattoos. "I never thought of a tattoo that way," he says, thoughtful. "In my life, they were always used practically, almost clinically. To hear the meaning and depth behind yours is interesting." <<include "talkingtoblade3_reflection">>

Then he pauses and eyes you for a moment, clearly thinking about something else. You cock your head at him. "What is it?" <<nobr>><<if $bladebout is true>> <br><br> "Facing you in this context is always… interesting," he says slowly. <<if $capradayoff is true>> He jerks his head up at the bristling, ornate towers of Solhadur, spiraling up all around you. "Especially here. In a past age, we might have faced each other on the battlefield as enemies." <<else>> "In a past age, we might have faced each other on the battlefield as enemies." <</if>> <<else>> "I was thinking of something the other day, watching you fight. In a past age, we might have once faced each other on the battlefield as enemies." <</if>><</nobr>> You raise your eyebrows. "What do you mean?" "Our people, the Mages and the Ket, were rather famously at war all throughout our collective histories," Blade says dryly. "Prior to the Castigation, they had some of the most violent, vicious clashes known to mankind. The Ket were the reason why Mages developed large-scale tools of warfare, at least originally… and many Ket believed Mages were frail, ambitious scholars who fought without honor, who would send demons scuttling into our homes to menace their children's cradles. They were a threat who had to be eliminated before they put the entire world to the torch. So if you and I had been born three hundred years ago, we might have been deployed against each other. Soldiers on opposing sides." <<nobr>><<if $capradayoff is true>> He nods again at your surrounding environs. "I certainly would never have been allowed to walk here, in the inner sanctum of one of your schools." <</if>><</nobr>> <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You grimace. "That isn't a pleasant thought. I hate the idea of us being enemies."</div>' 'autogenerated_67830'>><<setblade +1>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setloyal +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You sigh. "I hate to say it, but maybe the Castigation wasn't such a terrible thing. It's certainly made us Diminished unite with each other in unprecedented ways."</div>' 'autogenerated_67831'>><<setblade +2>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You scoff. "Well, if we <i>did</i> have to face each other on the battlefield, I would destroy you."</div>' 'autogenerated_67832'>><<setcourage +2>><<setloyal -1>><</link>> <<if $heritage is "Ket">><<link '<div class="heritage-item">"I was raised by Ket, though. So maybe we wouldn't have been enemies."</div>' 'autogenerated_67833'>><<setblade -1>><</link>><</if>> <<if $heritage is "Hunter">><<link '<div class="heritage-item">"I was raised by Hunters, though. So maybe we wouldn't have been enemies."</div>' 'autogenerated_67834'>><<setblade -1>><</link>><</if>> <<if $heritage is "Elf">><<link '<div class="heritage-item">"I was raised by Elves, though. So maybe we wouldn't have been enemies."</div>' 'autogenerated_67835'>><<setblade -1>><</link>><</if>> <<if $heritage is "Norm">><<link '<div class="heritage-item">"I was raised by Norms, though. So maybe we wouldn't have been enemies."</div>' 'autogenerated_67836'>><<setblade -1>><</link>><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

Blade nods. "As do I." Then he shrugs with one shoulder, an easy, rolling movement. "Sometimes it seems as if the Castigation had to happen. I could never say it was a positive thing, but maybe it was… a necessary evil. Without it—and without the common enemy of the Autarchy—our people may never have coexisted in the peace we know today." <<include 'talkingtoblade3_reflection_cont'>>

"That's exactly my point," Blade answers. "I could never say it was a positive thing, but maybe it was… a necessary evil. Without it—and without the common enemy of the Autarchy—our people may never have coexisted in the peace we know today." <<include 'talkingtoblade3_reflection_cont'>>

"Good to know," Blade says sardonically. <<include 'talkingtoblade3_reflection_cont'>>

"The Ket war against each other even more than they do with other races," Blade returns, a hint of dark humor in his voice. "And three hundred years ago, prior to the Castigation, Drummond's Point wouldn't have existed: your founders were Ket rebels against the Autarchy, weren't they? But that's beside my point." <<include 'talkingtoblade3_reflection_cont'>>

"The Ket and the Hunters have warred at some points, too," Blade returns, a hint of dark humor in his voice. "And three hundred years ago, prior to the Castigation, Maj wouldn't have existed: the Hunter refugees wouldn't have been expelled from Haven by the Autarchy and forced to move there. But that's beside my point." <<include 'talkingtoblade3_reflection_cont'>>

"The Elves and the Ket have warred viciously, too," Blade returns, a hint of dark humor in his voice. "And three hundred years ago, prior to the Castigation, Vale wouldn't have existed: the Elven cities would still be standing intact, so there wouldn't have been a need for a nomadic settlement there. But that's beside my point." <<include 'talkingtoblade3_reflection_cont'>>

"You say that as if conflict between the Norms and other races weren't at the heart of all this," Blade returns, a hint of dark humor in his voice. "We warred with them just as viciously. But that's beside my point." <<include 'talkingtoblade3_reflection_cont'>>

<<nobr>><<set $bladestatus to "You feel close to him.">><<notify_codex_culture "Mages and Ket">><</nobr>>Then he looks away. "All this to say… such thoughts make me appreciate… that we're not enemies. That the world isn't like that." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm glad, too, Blade. More than I can say."</div>' 'autogenerated_67837'>><<setblade +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Aw, are you saying you're glad we're friends? <i>Are we friends</i>?"</div>' 'autogenerated_67838'>><</link>> <<if $bladebout is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Take advantage of his distraction to knock him off his feet.</div>' 'takeadvantageofblade'>><<setcompassionate -2>><<setstrength +1>><<setloyal -2>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"All right, no need to get all sappy on me. I wasn't expecting you to get all sentimental." </div>' 'autogenerated_67839'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if ($bladeromanceflag >= 15) and ($highestromance is "blade")>> <<set $bladeromanceflag += 1>> Blade smiles, staring into your eyes for a long moment. <<else>> He inclines his head in a regal gesture. <</if>><</nobr>> "More than that," he continues lightly, "I trust you. I wouldn't have told you what I did last time if I didn't. And I… appreciate having someone that I can <<nobr>><<if ($bladeromanceflag >= 15) and ($highestromance is "blade")>> trust. In my life, such things have come few and far between." <<else>> trust." <</if>> <</nobr>> He looks away, a tad awkwardly, clearing his throat. "That's all." <<include 'blade_final_reflection'>>

<<nobr>><<if ($charisma >= 50) or ($blade >= 60)>> <<setblade +1>> <</if>><</nobr>> Blade rolls his eyes, but you think there might be a smile in his eyes as he deadpans, "If that's you want to take from this, fine." His stiff, haughty tone tells you he's being playful back, in his own way. Then he sobers slightly and adds in a more serious tone, "I trust you. I wouldn't have told you what I did if I didn't. And I… appreciate having someone I can trust." He looks away, a tad awkwardly, clearing his throat. "That's all." <<include 'blade_final_reflection'>>

Blade's look flattens into one of unimpressed annoyance. "You're insufferable," he grumbles—though you can tell he holds no true ire as he resumes his stance. <<include 'blade_final_reflection'>>

<<nobr>> <<if $blade >= 70>> <<setblade +1>> <</if>><</nobr>> Automatically, Blade's sword snaps up to meet yours. <<nobr>> <<if $strength >= 50>> But you dive past his defense, disarm him… and knock him off his feet with a grunt. <<include "blade_knockdown">> <<elseif (($strength < 50) and ($bladeromanceflag >= 15))>> <<setblade +3>> <<set $bladeromanceflag +=3>> <<set $bladestatus to "Although you feel close, there seems to be a hidden tension between you...">> In a heartbeat, he's disarmed you, hooked the back of your ankle with his foot, and sent you toppling to the dust. You instinctively try to knock him off-balance by lashing out with your legs, your hardened combat instincts kicking in, but Blade easily uses his weight to pin your knees and wrists down to the ground, immobilizing you. <br><br> In that heartbeat after you lose, Blade looks up at you with a slight smirk as his body hovers over yours, one opponent acknowledging his triumph over another. <br><br> But in the next, something changes: you're not sure what. He sees something in your face, or you do in his: you suddenly notice how long his dark eyelashes are, the proud column of his throat, the sharp line of his jaw. The clean sandalwood scent of him. Blade's gaze flickers over your features, and he goes very, very still. There's a wild, breathless moment as the two of you just stare at each other. You feel speared by his gaze. <br><br> Then, abruptly, Blade releases you as if you'd burned him, backing away. By the time you've climbed to your feet, his expression is shuttered, impassive. "Are you all right?" he asks. His voice is neutral, unconcerned, as if nothing had happened at all. <br><br> And… it probably didn't. It was all so quick that you had to be the only one who felt it, and even then it must have been in your head. Blade's look of perfect indifference confirms it. <br><br> You swallow. "I'm not hurt." <br><br> Blade nods curtly, all business. "Good. I would never want to hurt you." <br><br> <<include "blade_final_reflection">> <<else>> In a heartbeat, he's disarmed you, hooked the back of your ankle with his foot, and sent you toppling to the dust. Before you can struggle to your feet, he places the point of his practice sword against your throat: a clear indicator of a victor to ask an opponent to yield. <br><br> "That was a ruthless strategy," he comments, his tone unimpressed and slightly lofty. Still, there might be the glint of something like amusement in his eyes. "Pity it didn't work." <br><br> You sigh. "I thought it was a worth a try, at least." <br><br> "I suppose I can't fault you for that," Blade remarks, in the driest tone you've ever heard him use. He helps you up and leaves you to brush off the dust of defeat by yourself. <br><br> <<include "blade_final_reflection">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Place the point of your practice sword against his throat with a grin. "I win."</div>' 'autogenerated_67840'>><</link>> <<if ($bladeromanceflag >= 20 and $ace is false and $aroace is false)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Straddle him and pin his wrists to the ground with your knees. "Sorry, I couldn't resist."</div>' 'autogenerated_67841'>><<set $bladeromanceflag += 3>><<setblade +3>><<set $bladestatus to "Although you feel close, there seems to be a hidden tension between you...">><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Immediately pull him to his feet with a gasp. "I'm so sorry! I just acted on instinct."</div>' 'autogenerated_67842'>><<setblade -1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

From the ground, Blade gives you a long, slow look, his face unreadable. He doesn't say anything, but his silence is full of affronted pride. You burst into laughter as you help pull him to his feet. "Don't look at me like that. You would have done the same thing." "I find it interesting that others accuse me of being insensitive when <i>you</i> exist," Blade says, with some austerity. "It seems an injustice." You slap him heartily between the shoulder blades as he moves stiffly away from the practice yard, trying to maintain his injured dignity. It feels like slapping a brick wall. "Walk it off, Commander. Anything to win, right?" You study his back for a moment, the tall, steady presence of him. "And, Blade?" He looks back over your shoulder, damply-unimpressed. <<include 'bladeboutdamply'>>

Immediately, Blade tenses, an expression of genuine surprise and alarm flitting across his face before he moves to buck you off of him. However, you press all your weight against him, willing him to surrender, to acknowledge his defeat. There's a few moments of strained motion, of sweaty struggle and rolling around a bit in the dust—and then, all at once, Blade goes still. For a moment, the two of you stare at each other, and you're suddenly acutely conscious of your position. More than that, you're aware of <i>him</i>, of the clean sandalwood scent of him, of how long his dark eyelashes are, of the sharpness of his jaw and the proud column of his throat. Suddenly your hands—intertwined with his in the battle to keep him from tossing you off—feel electric and alive with the contact. You feel speared by his dark gaze. Then Blade twists his head away abruptly, his jaw clenching, the movement so sudden that you think you've hurt him. You can't fully see his expression as he says roughly, "I yield." You pause in your struggling. "What was that?" "<i>I yield</i>," Blade growls, his voice strangely hoarse—and then he practically pushes you off of him. You suddenly are aware of the rasp of your thighs against his bare torso. You scramble in your haste to release him, but when you offer your hand to help him up, he looks past it and rolls to his feet as if your touch would burn him. After a few silent moments of regaining your breath, Blade says, "That was well done. You caught me off-guard." It's an acquiescence, the same any commander might deliver to one of his officers. Blade's expression is now impassive, his voice neutral, unconcerned; for some reason its indifference makes you even more embarrassed. You can't hold his gaze. "Right," you manage, trying to forge past your inner turmoil. "Er… thanks. What were you saying, before?" "Trust." Blade's voice is clipped and businesslike as he turns away. "I trust you." "Right." You swallow, groping for your former eloquence. "Thank you. I trust you, too." Blade is silent for a moment, and you're almost afraid he won't answer. Finally he says simply, "I'm glad." It's terse and largely unreadable, but there's a hint of softness to it that you hope you're not imagining. <<include 'blade_final_reflection'>>

Blade gives you a long, slow look, his face unreadable. He doesn't say anything, but his silence is full of affronted pride. "Well," he says after a moment, his voice full of injured dignity. "It's good to know you possess cutthroat instincts—even if your sense is timing is somewhat regrettable." "I really don't know what I was thinking," you explain hastily. "I just… acted! What were you saying?" Blade waves you off as he moves stiffly to put away his practice sword. "It's fine. I've forgotten, too." <<include 'blade_final_reflection'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm glad we're friends, too."</div>' 'autogenerated_67843'>><<setblade +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Thanks."</div>' 'autogenerated_67844'>><<setblade +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"It's pretty cool that I just won, right?"</div>' 'autogenerated_67845'>><<setblade -1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Blade turns away again with a <i>tsk</i>—but you think you might catch a hint of a smile. "Come on," he says brusquely over his shoulder. "Let's get out of the cold." <<include 'blade_final_reflection'>>

It's all you can say, but you hope he understands what you mean, just as you understood him. Blade turns away again with a <i>tsk</i>—but you think you might catch a hint of a smile. "Come on," he says brusquely over his shoulder. "Let's get out of the cold." <<include 'blade_final_reflection'>>

Blade rolls his eyes and moves to put away his practice sword as you laugh. <<include 'blade_final_reflection'>>

Shortly after that, you wrap up the session and decide to find something to eat. Accompanying him from the training yard, feeling the strength and solidity practically radiating from his tall figure at your side, you feel an odd sense of security, of peace and contentment. You feel… <i>protected</i> by his watchful, vigilant presence, the natural and alert way he scans your surroundings even as you walk together. You think back on what he told you the first time you trained together after joining the Order, when he said in such blunt, straightforward tones that he'd be willing to lay down his life for you. You can't help but believe him. And that makes you feel safe. Then you feel the prickle of something at the back of your neck, a tingling awareness, as if… someone were watching you? You glance up at the rooftops, at the shadows of the colonnade, frowning, but see nothing. When you glance at Blade, he glances back at you in silent question, his expression calm and unchanged. Did he notice it? Shortly after that, the sensation fades to nothing. You rub the back of your neck with a frown, then shrug it off as you and Blade move indoors. Maybe it was a passing bird. You probably just imagined it. <<include "bladeover">>

<<setblade +5>>You go hunting for Blade, but for once, you can't seem to find him anywhere in the compound. Chase, playing cards with Trouble while sitting upside-down, his legs dangling over the back of an armchair, glances up lazily and remarks, "I think he went to the Market Quarter. You'd think the man would have enough weapons at some point, but he's always scouting out different ways to kill people." So, following a hunch, you decide to head to the section of the Market Quarter that you visited with Blade on your last shopping trip together. After several minutes of searching the crowds—the streets are as packed as ever, with a small holiday set to commence this weekend—you're gratified to finally spot his tall, broad-shouldered, dark-cloaked form at the end of the block, navigating the crammed walkway with his usual patient grace. <<nobr>><<if $charisma gte 55>> <i>Plus, you'd recognize that haircut anywhere. </i> <</if>><</nobr>> <<nobr>><<if $cunning gte 60>> Pleased with yourself at having found him, you begin to shift into a trot—there's no way Blade would be able to hear you over the ambient noise and roar of the street—but then some hidden, prickling instinct suddenly makes you freeze. <br><br> Something's wrong here. It almost looks as if... there's a man tailing Blade. You can't get a good look at him with all of the jostling bodies in your path, but you catch a glimpse of a lithe, indistinct form phasing through the crowd, apparently intent on following your commander with a quick, soundless gait. And... was that the flicker of a shadow on a nearby rooftop? <br><br> Something in the cavern of your chest blares with sudden alarm. Your blood igniting with the sense of unmistakable danger, you break into a run. <<else>> Pleased with yourself at having found him, you begin to shift into a trot: there's no way Blade would be able to hear you over the ambient noise and roar of the street, but if you hurry, you should be able to catch up to him. <</if>><</nobr>> Far ahead of you, Blade turns a corner and vanishes into a narrow, jagged alleyway enfolded in golden shadow. <<nobr>><<if $cunning gte 60>> You quicken your pace as the man following him—a brown-haired Ket with hooded eyes—slips in after him, withdrawing something like a dagger from the confines of his cloak. <</if>><</nobr>> <<page_break "..." "bladeambush">>

When you appear at the mouth of the alleyway, a stark, nightmarish scene is already unfolding in front of you. Blade is locked in vicious, lethal battle with at least three men: they're moving almost too quickly for you to see, but you're almost positive all are Ket. Their limbs move at terrifying, soundless speeds, weapons glinting in their hands in indistinct dark blurs, their faces grim and expressionless as they parry, strike, feint in almost complete silence. Blade's sword is drawn and already dripping with blood, while his three <<nobr>><<if $cunning gte 60>> assailants—one the brown-haired, tan-skinned man who was following him in the street, a second younger man with short blond hair and sallow, red-rimmed eyes, and a third very tall, lean warrior with silvery hair and two short scythes in his <<else>> assailants—one a brown-haired, tan-skinned man with hooded eyes, the second a younger man with short blond hair and sallow, red-rimmed eyes, and the third very tall, lean warrior with silvery hair and two short scythes in his <</if>><</nobr>> hands—try and press their advantage, clearly intent on killing him right here in this alleyway. Blade's eyes are so flinty and intent that they almost look dead, his gaze black and coal-like as he fights for his life. Even as you watch, you hear the high whine of charged arma, the sharp sonic bark of punctured air—and then Blade moves his non-dominant hand and seems to punch the youngest opponent hard in the side. The blond man staggers backward as arma surges through his system and shatters part of his ribcage, leaving half a smoking crater in the brick wall behind him, too. The young man sinks back against the wall, his face white and bloodless, but his companions don't even glance at him as they close in on Blade, their eyes set and pitiless. The silver-haired man's left hand blurs, and Blade grunts slightly as an arc of blood flares at his shoulder and spatters against the other wall, the wicked scythe ripping through his flesh with a peculiar sickening <i>schnick</i>. He drives Anguriel forward and catches the other man at the hip, but then the brown-haired man is darting forward past his defenses, and more blood flashes in the sun... They're moving too quickly for you to get a shot in from afar, not without risking injury to Blade, but... <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Run forward and throw yourself into the fray. </div>' 'autogenerated_67846'>><<setcourage +1>><<setloyal +1>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setblade +1>><</link>> <<if $astral gte 50 and $magic gte 30>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Hit them all with a kinetic blast. It will catch Blade in the cross-fire, but at least it will separate them and give him space to breathe.</div>' 'autogenerated_67847'>><<setblade -8>><<setintelligence -3>><<setmagic +1>><<setastral +1>><<setcompassionate -1>><</link>><</if>> <<if $astral gte 65 and $magic gte 50>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Throw up a shield that will protect Blade from harm.</div>' 'autogenerated_67848'>><<setmagic +1>><<setastral +1>><<setintelligence +1>><<setblade +3>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Start bellowing for help at the top of your lungs. "'<b>WARE! SOMEONE CALL THE VICE GUARD!</b>" </div>' 'autogenerated_67849'>><<setcunning +3>><<setloyal -1>><<setblade +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 20>> <<set $bladeromanceflag += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>>You grit your teeth and fling yourself forward, readying your $mainweapon and your magic, not entirely sure of what you can do except add another body between their weapons and Blade. You anticipate the silvery razor-hiss of blades puncturing your skin, of Ket steel cutting red lines of fire all throughout your body while you fling yourself towards the brown-haired man. He spots you out of the corner of his eye, whirls, raises his weapon—a deadly-sharp scimitar—while you raise yours... Something hard and solid abruptly bashes into you, and you hear Blade's voice barking a sharp command over you as you stagger sideways, his voice louder than you've ever heard it: "<b><i>GET BACK!</i></b>" <<nobr>> <<if $bladeromanceflag gte 20>> The faintest trace of something like furious shock—and panic—colors his tone as you stumble back. <</if>><</nobr>> Blade crowds you back against the wall, protective and deadly-angry now, coralling you as he angles his body between you and his attackers. From the look on his face, he's utterly appalled you've thrown yourself into the midst of things, but for now you ignore his anger and shift so that he's mostly out of the way. Your arrival has provided the briefest interruption in the flow of things, and your positions have changed so that you and Blade are now separated from the other three... at least momentarily. The enemy Ket stare silently at you, unsurprised but calculating. <<include 'bladeambush_choices'>>

Blade looks up sharply just before you cast the spell, his gaze in turns incredulous and furious—but he doesn't have time to dodge before you send the concussive spell barreling down the alleyway towards him, scattering all four of the Ket like lawn pins. Blade is flung hard against the opposite wall with a grunt, but manages to keep his feet; the silver-haired fighter actually <i>leaps</i> several feet into the air and dodges the spell entirely, while the blond man and his companion are sent flying backwards. It at least separates the tangle of them, and the other Ket, when they regain their feet, shuffle back from Blade, their eyes wary and assessing. The silver-haired man lands lightly, not ten feet away from you; he glances back idly and makes direct eye-contact with you. Blade actually snarls. You tense yourself in readiness, prepared for them all to come charging down the alleyway at you—but your arrival seems to have decided the outcome of this fight. Still without speaking a word, the brown-haired man bends and slings his fallen companion's arm around his neck, lifting him with ease. A flickering movement on the rooftop above you momentarily distracts you, and when you glance back, the two of them are gone. The silver-haired man, his eyes never moving from yours, merely steps back into the shadows. <<nobr>><<if $dreampartner is "blade">> Somehow, impossibly, he seems familiar to you... <</if>> <</nobr>> Then there's a blurring movement, a queer, dizzying sensation as he seems to physically fade from your sight... and then you seem to be alone again. Blade, breathing only a little quickly, doesn't move from his position at first. When he finally speaks, his voice is tense and brittle. "We need to move. Get back to base." He glances at you, his dark eyes blazing. "<i>Now</i>." <<include 'bladeambushretreat5'>>

<<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 20>> <<set $bladeromanceflag += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>>Quick as a thought, you fling your magic outward and form a translucent, protective bubble over Blade; one of his assailant's blades crashes against it and skitters away with a screeching cascade of sparks. Blade glances up and spots you, though the moment your eyes meet is impossibly brief before he turns his attention back to his adversaries, tense and coiled, reversing his grip on his sword. The other Ket instantly shuffle back, wary, assessing. The silver-haired man glances back and spots you. You tense yourself in readiness, prepared for them to come charging down the alleyway at you—but your arrival seems to have decided the outcome of this fight. Still without speaking a word, the brown-haired man bends and slings his fallen companion's arm around his neck, lifting him with ease. A flickering movement on the rooftop above you momentarily distracts you, and when you glance back, the two of them are gone. The silver-haired man, his eyes never moving from Blade's, merely steps back into the shadows. <<nobr>><<if $dreampartner is "blade">> Somehow, impossibly, he seems familiar to you... <</if>><</nobr>>Then there's a blurring movement, a queer, dizzying sensation as he seems to physically fade from your sight... and then you seem to be alone again. Blade, breathing only a little quickly, doesn't move from his position at first. When he finally speaks, his voice is tense and brittle. "We need to move. Get back to base." He glances at you, his dark eyes blazing. "<i>Now</i>." <<include 'bladeambushretreat5'>>

You make sure to pour as much urgency into your voice as humanly possible, and you're aware of several answering exclamations in the street behind you. Instantly, Blade glances up and spots you, though the moment your eyes meet is impossibly brief before he turns his attention back to his adversaries, tense and coiled, reversing his grip on his sword. The other Ket instantly shuffle back, wary, assessing. The silver-haired man glances back and spots you. You tense yourself in readiness, prepared for them to come charging down the alleyway at you—but your arrival (and the impending arrival of reinforcements) seems to have decided the outcome of this fight. Still without speaking a word, the brown-haired man bends and slings his fallen companion's arm around his neck, lifting him with ease. A flickering movement on the rooftop above you momentarily distracts you, and when you glance back, the two of them are gone. The silver-haired man, his eyes never moving from Blade's, merely steps back into the shadows. <<nobr>><<if $dreampartner is "blade">> Somehow, impossibly, he seems familiar to you... <</if>> <</nobr>> Then there's a blurring movement, a queer, dizzying sensation as he seems to physically fade from your sight... and then you seem to be alone again. Blade, breathing only a little quickly, doesn't move from his position at first. When he finally speaks, his voice is tense and brittle. "We need to move. Get back to base." He glances at you, his dark eyes blazing. "<i>Now</i>." <<include 'bladeambushretreat5'>>

<<page_break "..." "bladeambush_retreat">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $astral gte 50>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Fire up the magic in your palm. Now's your chance to blast them to smithereens.</div>' 'bladeambush_aftermath'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $psionic gte 50>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Ready the whip of your psionic magic. Now's your chance to break their minds.</div>' 'bladeambush_aftermath'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $arcane gte 50>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Fire up the magic in your palm. Now's your chance to unleash magic they've never seen.</div>' 'bladeambush_aftermath'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Raise your $mainweapon. Now's your chance to make them bleed. </div>' 'bladeambush_aftermath'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

But then Blade lifts his arm, obscuring your line of fire again. "Don't," he says, quiet now, his voice gravelly with strain. You pause, wondering if he has a plan or the intention to take them all alive somehow, but before you can do anything more, you see that the attackers are already moving to withdraw. The brown-haired man bends and slings his fallen companion's arm around his neck, lifting him with ease. A flickering movement on the rooftop above you momentarily distracts you, and when you glance back, the two of them are gone. The silver-haired man, his eyes never moving from Blade's, merely steps back into the shadows. <<nobr>><<if $dreampartner is "blade">> Somehow, impossibly, he seems familiar to you... <</if>><</nobr>> Then there's a blurring movement, a queer, dizzying sensation as he seems to physically fade from your sight... and then you seem to be alone again. Blade, breathing only a little quickly, doesn't move from his position at first. When he finally speaks, his voice is tense and brittle. "We need to move. Get back to base." He glances at you, his dark eyes blazing. "<i>Now</i>." <<page_break "..." "bladeambush_retreat">>

You and Blade hurry back to the safety of your headquarters, the dark-haired Ket hyper-vigilant and silent at your side as he all but drags you back through the streets, his eyes roving over everything from the eaves of the surrounding buildings to the gutters for signs of further danger. When you arrive back at the compound, though, you don't run to alert the others, or even head to the infirmary to treat Blade's still-bleeding injuries. In fact, he simply shuttles you through the innermost corridors of the Tower and straight into the confines of his bedroom, practically slamming the door shut behind you. You hardly have the time to take in the spartan, utilitarian surroundings of the room—which currently resembles a dimly-lit monk's cell more than it does a commander's private chambers—though: your mind is still struggling to process the deadly and wholly-unexpected ambush that you were just a part of. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Okay, what the fuck just happened?"</div>' 'blade_explanation'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"What... I... what is <i>going on</i>?"</div>' 'blade_explanation'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Are you okay?"</div>' 'blade_explanation'>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setloyal +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"If I hadn't shown up, I think you'd be dead right now."</div>' 'blade_explanation'>><<setloyal -1>><<setcunning +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Blade moves to a stolid chest of drawers in the corner of the room, extracting a roll of bandages with a slight hiss of annoyance. "If they used poison," he comments, his voice as flat and unflappable as ever, "which I don't believe they did—I should be immune to it. I believe I'm inoculated to anything in their storehouse. But I doubt they would have left such a thing up to chance. Poison would be too slow." You stare incredulously at him as he moves, with difficulty, to unbuckle the clasps of his chest armor and pauldrons with his uninjured hand. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Who's <i>they</i>?"</div>' 'blade_injuries'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Blade, I know you're not insane enough to be ignoring me right now. Could you just give me a straight answer before <i>I</i> attack you?"</div>' 'blade_injuries'>><<setloyal -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I... don't even know where to start with that. What do you mean, you're inoculated to their poisons?"</div>' 'blade_injuries'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Here, don't just—let me help you with that, you daft man."</div>' 'letmehelpyouwiththatdafty'>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Stare at him in silence.</div>' 'blade_injuries'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 5 and $gender is "female">> <<set $bladeromanceflag += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>><<include "blade_injuries">>

Blade makes an irritated, impatient sound and unceremoniously peels his blood-sodden shirt off with one hand, depositing it and his armor onto the floor with a dusty creak. The damage underneath is simultaneously as bad and not as bad as you were envisioning: there's a long, bloody gash at his shoulder, a similar score along his ribs, a shallower scratch along the bridge of his nose, and already an ugly, purple bruising is beginning to flower at his sternum. His right arm dangles badly, though you don't think it's officially dislocated. Knowing the Ket's accelerated rate of healing (and stubborn bull-headedness), you'd guess this is enough to lay him up for a day or two, no more. Blade catches your look, pauses, and then blows out a breath, sitting abruptly—and gingerly—on the end of his neatly-made bed. <<nobr>> <<if $blade gte 70>> Resignedly, he jerks his head to indicate that you're welcome to do the same. Carefully, you follow suit. <</if>> <</nobr>> You stare at each other for a moment; then Blade says quietly, "I wish you hadn't intervened. Those were Khehi-Ket assassins of the highest order. If they'd decided to, they would have had no issue killing you on the spot in order to eliminate me. They cut down innocent civilians, when they have to. They would have annihilated you without a thought." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Sniff. "As if they could have."</div>' 'autogenerated_67850'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Set your chin stubbornly. "But they didn't, did they?"</div>' 'autogenerated_67851'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Roll your eyes. "What did you expect me to do, just stand there and watch you get skewered?"</div>' 'autogenerated_67852'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Scowl. "So this is the thanks I get for saving your life?"</div>' 'autogenerated_67853'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Sigh. "I was just trying to help you."</div>' 'autogenerated_67854'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

You're the Hero of Haven, after all: you're not convinced that those three could have taken you down. Blade scowls and returns, "Those were only the three you saw. There were at least two up on the roof, taking aim with their own specialized weapons." Oh. "I didn't see them." "You would have, if they'd decided to take us both out at once." <<include 'blade_belt'>>

Blade scowls. "I don't want you assuming that risk next time." "There's going to be a <i>next time</i>?" <<include 'blade_belt'>>

Blade scowls. "If it meant not putting yourself at risk, yes. This is my problem to deal with: you shouldn't suffer the consequences." <<include 'blade_belt'>>

Blade scowls back. "I would have driven them off," he returns irritably. "I have before." <<include 'blade_belt'>>

At that, Blade softens slightly, though his brow is still furrowed as he answers, quieter now: "I know. But I won't have you putting yourself at risk, <<c firstname>>. This is my problem to deal with: you shouldn't suffer the consequences." <<include 'blade_belt'>>

<<set $bladehelp to false>> Stiffly, he reaches down to his belt and begins to fumble it loose. You raise your brow, but Blade pulls the belt free and holds it out to you, letting its many pouches and pockets dangle. "Could you help?" The command is perfunctory, business-like and expectant, but the way he holds the belt out with his injured arm is oddly plaintive. "I have an antiseptic that will suit." <<include "helpbladeheal">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Sigh and begin rummaging through the belt. "Of course you do."</div>' 'autogenerated_67855'>><<setblade +1>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Shake your head and begin to help. "You don't have anything in here that's going to explode in my face?"</div>' 'autogenerated_67856'>><<setblade +1>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> <<if $specialization is "healer" and $astral gte 40>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"You hardly need this. I can just heal you."</div>' 'autogenerated_67857'>><<setblade +3>><<setmagic +1>><<setastral +1>><<set $bladehelp to true>><</link>><</if>> <<if $specialization is not "healer" or $astral lt 40>><div class="inactive-item">"You hardly need this. I can just heal you."</div><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Lean away from him. "This isn't what I signed up for."</div>' 'autogenerated_67858'>><<setblade -8>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setloyal -5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Shake your head. "Not until you tell me what's going on."</div>' 'autogenerated_67859'>><<setblade -5>><<setcompassionate -3>><<setloyal -5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Cross your arms. "You should really go to the infirmary."</div>' 'autogenerated_67860'>><<setblade -1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Blade makes a slight sound in his throat, something between a weary laugh and a sigh. <<include 'blade_poultice'>>

Blade smirks tiredly. "I'll warn you." <<include 'blade_poultice'>>

<<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 20>> <<set $bladeromanceflag += 3>> For just the briefest moment, Blade seems to pause, his expression unreadable. Then, finally, he ducks his head in silent acquiescence. His dark lashes cast a fringe of shadow against his cheeks. <<else>> Blade glances at you, then ducks his head in silent acquiescence. "Very well. If you don't mind." <</if>><</nobr>> You shift closer and lay your hands against the smooth skin of his upper arm and the middle of his back, sending your magic skittering across his torso in a soothing, questing wave, sending blessed coolness sinking down into inflamed tissue. Immediately, the deep cuts at his shoulder and ribs begin to knit themselves back together, bruises and scrapes shrinking and disappearing. <<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 20>> Blade doesn't speak, but you feel him relax slightly under your touch. If you're overly-conscious of the solid muscle that ripples under your hands at the movement, or of the surprising, delicious warmth of his skin—well. You shunt all that aside in favor of your clinical professionalism as a Healer. <br><br> The backs of your knuckles brush gently against the puckered scar across his ribs. Blade twitches once, but doesn't breathe a word. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'blade_explanation_continued'>>

Blade rolls his eyes, but begins to rummage through the belt himself. "Fair enough." You look away as he begins to clean and dress his own wounds. <<include 'blade_explanation_continued'>>

Blade narrows his eyes at you, but silently begins to rummage through the belt himself. You look away as he begins to clean and dress his own wounds. <<include 'blade_explanation_continued'>>

Blade scowls and begins to rummage through the belt himself. "If I can still move freely, I don't need the infirmary." He begins to clean and dress his own wounds with deft—though stiff—proficiency. You imagine it's something he's used to doing. <<include 'blade_explanation_continued'>>

Within moments, you've produced a tiny jar of something that looks like sage-green clay. Moving stiffly, Blade moves to take it from you. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Let me help you apply it."</div>' 'autogenerated_67861'>><<set $bladehelp to true>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Let him tend to his injuries.</div>' 'autogenerated_67862'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 20>> <<set $bladeromanceflag += 3>> <<setblade +3>> For just the briefest moment, Blade seems to pause, his expression unreadable. Then, finally, he ducks his head in silent acquiescence. His dark lashes cast a fringe of shadow against his cheeks. <<else>> <<setblade +3>> Blade glances at you, then ducks his head in silent acquiescence. "Very well. If you don't mind." <</if>><</nobr>> Carefully, you shift closer and help him clean and dress his wounds, warming the poultice up between your hands before dabbing it carefully along his scrapes and cuts. Blade only jerks once, cursing softly under his breath at the sting, before he settles and sits as still as a statue under your touch. <<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 20>> He doesn't speak, but gradually you feel him relaxing slightly. And if you're overly-conscious of the solid muscle that ripples under your hands at the movement, or of the surprising, delicious warmth of his skin—well. You shunt all that aside for the clinical professionalism your task requires. <br><br> The backs of your knuckles brush gently against the puckered scar across his ribs. Blade twitches once, but doesn't breathe a word. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'blade_explanation_continued'>>

Blade begins to clean and dress his wounds with deft—though stiff—proficiency. You imagine it's something he's used to doing. <<include 'blade_explanation_continued'>>

After several moments of silence, he speaks again. "I told you before that I was an assassin for the Ket Rebellion," he begins, avoiding your gaze as he looks steadily down at his cracked and bloodied hands. His voice is stiff, formal, even brusque, but there's something heavy in its tone, too. "That I was raised and trained for the position young, that I was later lauded as our force's best killer. That, eventually, I was deployed to accomplish the rebellion's greatest goal: eliminating the Autarch herself. Do you remember?" You almost want to laugh, if the matter weren't so dreadfully unfunny. "Of course I do." Blade scowls down at his palms. "I told you, too, that the rebellion is currently based in my city-state, Ygrath, or at least what remains of it. It's still an underground movement, but I would surmise that, between all of our allies and splinter-cells, it is one of the greatest united military forces of Ket left in the Autarchy today." He pauses for a moment. "What I didn't tell you is that the current leader of the rebellion… is my older brother. Gladius." Silence reigns between you for a moment. Blade continues, his voice steady, almost clinical now, as if he's indifferently relaying the facts about some other person's life: the target of some mission, perhaps. "Gladius was elected to the position young: he was a Khehi-Ket, like me, but his leadership skills elevated him to the Sen caste early in life. He was actually the original holder of Anguriel before he passed it to me when I was thirteen." He glances at his black sword, propped carefully against the wall within arm's reach. "When my father—one of the rebellion's original leaders—was killed, the other members of the council believed that Gladius should step in and take his place. Events transpired, and eventually Gladius was elected as <i>drasil</i> of the entire resistance." <<nobr>><<if $heritage is "Ket">> <br><br> A <i>drasil</i>, you know, is a kind of elected military leader who holds sovereign command over a Ket city-state's forces with the assistance of a council or house of representatives, who sometimes have voting power, although a <i>kleos</i>—a sole meritocratic ruler—was more common in the old days. <</if>><</nobr>> You finally find your voice. "Was he the one sending you on your missions to assassinate politicians around the Continent? The jobs that would eventually earn you the name Kingslayer?" Blade nods curtly. "In the last handful of years, yes. And yes, he was the one who ultimately assigned me the task of killing the Autarch." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Even though he knew it would be a suicide mission? Your own brother?"</div>' 'autogenerated_67863'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"He must have trusted you immensely."</div>' 'autogenerated_67864'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Go on."</div>' 'blade_betrayal'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Blade lifts one shoulder in an unhappy shrug. "The fact that we were—are—brothers didn't play into it. There was only one person determined to have the skills and abilities to accomplish the task. It would have been a dishonor to us both for him to avoid sending me out of a selfish familial love. A betrayal to the rebellion and all who had died for its cause." His face shutters. "Nevertheless, I know it wasn't an easy decision for him. But it was his duty as Drasil to do it, just as it was my duty as a Khehi-Ket to obey." <<include 'blade_betrayal'>>

Blade lifts one shoulder in an unhappy shrug. "He did, though the fact that we were—are—brothers didn't play into it. There was only one person determined to have the skills and abilities to accomplish the task. It would have been a dishonor to us both for him to avoid sending me out of a selfish familial love. A betrayal to the rebellion and all who had died for its cause." His face shutters. "Nevertheless, I know it wasn't an easy decision for him. But it was his duty as Drasil to do it, just as it was my duty as a Khehi-Ket to obey." <<include 'blade_betrayal'>>

He glances at you, his eyes stonier now: a kind of cold irony plays around his mouth. "And then, of course, I not only failed in my task to kill the Autarch… I betrayed the rebellion by agreeing to work for her. I changed sides, abandoned my duties and sworn loyalty to Ygrath. I founded the Shepherds, which, to my former kinsmen, is tantamount to creating a rival army for the very woman I swore to destroy. To my brother and all my former comrades, I'm the worst kind of traitor. And not only that, an active threat: I know almost everything there is to know about the rebellion. I never gave away anything of use to the Autarch's people—they were satisfied with my diligence as commander of the Shepherds—but Gladius and his soldiers don't know that. From their perspective, I've likely been revealing state secrets and undermining their cause ever since I became a turncoat. I'm now their worst enemy. They've been trying to eliminate me ever since." You sit back and let loose a long, slow breath. <<include "bladethetruthcomesout">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("bladeparanoid")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"<i>That's</i> why you've been so paranoid all this time."</div>' 'bladeparanoid'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("blade_kill_attempts")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"How many times have they tried to kill you?"</div>' 'blade_kill_attempts'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("blade_secret")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Why haven't you told anybody? Why didn't you tell <i>me</i>?"</div>' 'blade_secret'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("blade_brother")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"How do you feel about your brother now?"</div>' 'blade_brother'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("blade_attack")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Why didn't they attack me when I showed up?"</div>' 'blade_attack'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Blade's injuries are finally all dressed. "There must be something we can do."</div>' 'blade_final_thoughts'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

You recall how Blade reacted when those children threw a tomato into the compound, the way he moved against that drunkard in the street… How long has he been living with the shadow of death dogging him so closely? Blade winces slightly: you can't tell if it's from pain or embarrassment. "It is a normal part of my personality," he says, evidently striving for a light tone, "but yes, I admit it's been… increased as of late." <<include "bladethetruthcomesout">>

Blade looks at you with the kind of bland non-expression you've begun to learn how to interpret. You take in a breath. "You don't even <i>know</i>?" "It hasn't been that often," he returns, somewhat irritably. "At least not since we've moved into the Tower, whose defenses they haven't learned how to penetrate. The problem is that we all know each other. I know their techniques, and they know mine. It draws the chase out far longer than if it were otherwise." He pauses significantly, then adds: "There is also the fact that I… avoid killing whoever they send after me. That's a weakness on my part, and they know that. That's why they keep trying. If I were to eliminate their kill-squads wholesale, it would make them think twice about their approach… but since I haven't, they think they can throw wave after wave at me in a war of attrition until I'm either overcome or their losses actually start to pile up. As long as I forgo lethal retaliation, it costs them nothing to keep trying." You have to take that in for a moment. You've never thought of Blade as soft-hearted or the kind of man who would avoid killing if he regarded it as necessary, but that's twice that he's shied away from the task now: first the Autarch and now these other assassins. At your look, Blade frowns and says, "They're my kinsmen, <<c firstname>>. One of the men today was my older cousin. He taught me how to throw a knife." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"It's cruel, then, that Gladius would send him after you. Or that your cousin would accept."</div>' 'autogenerated_67865'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"But how long are you going to endure this before they really do kill you?"</div>' 'autogenerated_67866'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Can't you send a message to Gladius and tell him to stop? If you won't even kill them to defend yourself, clearly they're in no danger from you."</div>' 'autogenerated_67867'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Blade sighs and shakes his head. "They think I'm a traitor to their cause. I <i>am</i> a traitor to their cause. They think that the Blade they knew is dead. In his place is a dog of the Autarchy no better than the Grand Inquisitor. My very existence poses a threat to them and to the rebellion: I have to die. And it would be crueler to send a stranger to kill me." "…Whatever you say." <<include 'bladethetruthcomesout'>>

Blade shakes his head. "I've fended them off capably so far. Eventually they'll realize the futility of their efforts." "And if someone else gets hurt before then? You can't do this indefinitely. It's going to catch up to you somehow." The look Blade gives you is pained, though he only frowns in silence. You can tell from the look on his face that he knows you're right. <<include 'bladethetruthcomesout'>>

Blade gives you a half-droll look. "It's not really something a letter would stop. They entrusted me with the assignment to kill the Autarch, and I didn't. Now I work for her. They will never forgive that. At best, any message from me would be considered a forgery by the Autarchy, or the results of my own brainwashing. The rebellion doesn't take chances, and they certainly won't take my word for anything." <<include 'bladethetruthcomesout'>>

Blade blows out a weary breath. "Telling others would involve telling them <i>why</i> there are Ket assassins after me," he says. "The Autarch swore me to secrecy, and knowledge that I was once assigned to kill her and then defected to her side isn't exactly news I'd like to spread around. It would also certainly inflame Gladius and his agents: they're trying to kill me to prevent that kind of information from spreading in the first place." Then he shakes his head. "There's also the matter that anyone who knows about this is placed in danger. The Khehi of the rebellion are trained to kill <i>anyone</i> who threatens our cause: I would know. If they caught wind that any of you knew things that you weren't supposed to know… Or if anyone was hurt or killed trying to protect me from my brother's forces…" His face darkens. "It's my burden to bear, and it's between myself and the rebellion. No one else needs to be involved." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $courage gte 65>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Are... are you an idiot? You're not just a lone wolf anymore, Blade, you're the leader of the damn Shepherds! If someone's trying to kill you, we need to know!"</div>' 'autogenerated_67868'>><<setcourage +1>><<setintelligence +1>><<setloyal +1>><</link>><</if>> <<if $courage lt 65>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">"Are... are you an idiot? You're not just a lone wolf anymore, Blade, you're the leader of the damn Shepherds! If someone's trying to kill you, we need to know!"</div>' 'bladethetruthcomesout'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Gods, but you're annoying! I'm so sick of this noble, self-martyring bullshit!"</div>' 'autogenerated_67869'>><<setblade -5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"But we could help you defend yourself, don't you see? Between you, me, Trouble, Tallys..."</div>' 'autogenerated_67870'>><<setloyal +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I suppose I can see your reasons." You can already see nightmarish visions of the others reacting to this news, perhaps doing something reckless in their desire to help Blade...</div>' 'autogenerated_67871'>><<setblade +3>><<setcunning +1>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 20>> <<set $bladeromanceflag += 1>> <</if>> <<if $blade gte 70>> <<setblade +1>> <</if>><</nobr>> "What would happen if you were <i>actually</i> assassinated?" you demand, outraged. "There—we need to have contingencies in place, a line of succession. We need to know what to do! You really think you could take the risk of just letting us find you one day with your throat cut and not leave any explanation <i>why</i>?" Blade gives you a kind of blank, discomfited face. You're not sure anyone's ever called him an idiot before. <<include 'bladethetruthcomesout'>>

Blade gives you a kind of blank, discomfited look, clearly taken aback by your outburst. <<nobr>><<if $blade gte 70 or $bladeromanceflag gte 20>> <br><br> "If you were hurt," he returns in a low, fierce tone, his eyes suddenly sharp and intense, "I would <i>never</i> forgive myself. What happened today is exactly why I haven't told anybody." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'bladethetruthcomesout'>>

Together, you all could form a defensive shield around Blade that far surpasses what he could achieve alone. Your mind already whirs with the possibilities: <<nobr>> <<if $rieljoin is true>> with Riel's penchant for strategy, <</if>> <<if $chasejoin is true>> Chase's past (and all the skills that come with it), <</if>> <<if $brionyjoin is true>> Red, Briony, and Ayla's magic, <</if>><</nobr>>Trouble's sniping skills, Tallys's archery… Blade's jaw sets in a mutinous, stubborn expression. "No, <<c firstname>>," he says, his voice as cold and cutting as the winter wind now. The look in his eyes is like black lightning. "I won't have any of you risking your lives because of actions I chose to take, knowing full-well their consequences. No one will suffer on account of my choices." <<include 'bladethetruthcomesout'>>

You can see Trouble's fierce loyalty to his brother-in-arms leading him to do something rash, Chase or Ayla treating the matter flippantly and overestimating their abilities against a group of trained Ket assassins, <<nobr>> <<if $brionyjoin>> Briony charging in headlong and getting hurt… <<else>> Shery getting dragged into a conflict she's not equipped to deal with… <</if>><</nobr>> And the more any of them—or you—made themselves known as close friends of Blade, the more they might be targeted or exploited by the resistance… The rebellion's kill-squads could be one move away from kidnapping one or several of you and forcing Blade's surrender. A chill grips your heart as you realize that. Blade looks at you in grim satisfaction as he senses your understanding of the matter. "I said nothing in order to protect you all," he says, his voice quiet now. "No one should suffer on account of my choices." <<include 'bladethetruthcomesout'>>

He makes a sharp, abortive gesture, a wordless Ket sign of something like contempt or impatience. You wait, but from the complicated look on Blade's face, it doesn't seem like something he can elaborate on much right now. "I don't hate him," he says finally. "I understand his reasons, and if I were in his position…" He trails off and shakes his head. "He is doing what any good Ket leader would do, and what his people are counting on him to do. It's a waste of time to wish things were otherwise." <<include "bladethetruthcomesout">>

Blade frowns at that. "I'm… not sure," he says slowly, looking deeply troubled by that fact. "Ket assassins try to avoid civilian and bystander death when they can, but they also don't let it get in the way of the assignment: they should have still pressed on with trying to kill me, regardless of your interference, rather than withdraw." He shakes his head. "Perhaps they've heard of your reputation, and didn't want to try their luck. Perhaps they felt you evened the odds too well to risk continuing the fight. But…" His frown deepens. "They should be willing to die for the cause, even if it meant going down with both of us. I don't know." <<include "bladethetruthcomesout">>

<<nobr>><<romancecalc>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 22 and $highestromance is "blade">> Blade sighs and takes your hand, the motion so simple and natural that neither of you think anything of it for the moment. <<else>> Blade sighs and drags a hand through his dark hair. <</if>><</nobr>> "For now, <i>we</i> do nothing," he says, gentling his voice now. "You're right that this is an untenable situation: I can't expect to sustain it forever. If I want to stay alive, my options are narrowing. But they won't risk attacking again anytime soon. In the meantime, I need to think of another plan other than simply fending them off whenever they choose to strike." "Yes, or else you'll be living in constant deadly paranoia for the rest of your life," you return, your voice a bit tart. It's hard to believe he's only considering an alternative solution <i>now</i>. Blade smiles <<nobr>> <<if $bladeromanceflag gte 22 and $highestromance is "blade">> faintly, kneading your palm between his. His hands are large and calloused and impossibly strong, but they treat your own with infinite gentleness and care. <<else>> faintly. <</if>><</nobr>> "Again, that's a general state of being for me. But I take your point." Then his face sobers. "Will you stay silent about what you saw today? At least until I decide how I want to address it." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"All right. But you should really learn to trust the others, Blade. We're here to help you."</div>' 'autogenerated_67872'>><<set $bladeharden += 2>><<setblade +5>><<setloyal +5>><</link>> <<if $shepherdsknow is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Fine. But you'd be a damn hypocrite if you made me spill <i>my</i> secrets, but avoided telling your own."</div>' 'autogenerated_67873'>><<set $bladeharden += 1>><<setblade +1>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"No. This is foolish, and it's going to get you killed. If I feel I have to say something to the others, I will."</div>' 'autogenerated_67874'>><<set $bladeharden -= 2>><<setblade -15>><<setloyal -5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Yes, of course."</div>' 'autogenerated_67875'>><<setblade +5>><<setloyal +5>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Blade smiles slightly, watching you. "I know," he says evenly. "I… appreciate it, <<c firstname>>." <<include 'blade_romance_check'>>

If you decided to tell everyone about your past and the Words of Power, you don't see any reason why Blade should keep his own secrets. The dark-haired Ket smiles slightly. "Fair point," he acknowledges, inclining his head. "You're right. The others will have to be told in due time." <<include 'blade_romance_check'>>

Blade's expression flattens, and he watches you for a long, wordless moment: you can't tell if he's more disappointed or annoyed. Finally he shakes his head with a sigh. "Short of issuing you an order as your commander, I suppose I can't stop you. Do what you will." <<include 'blade_romance_check'>>

Blade lets out a breath of relief: a rare sight when it comes to him. "Thank you, $firstname," he says, inclining his head. <<include 'blade_romance_check'>>

<<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 20 and $highestromance is "blade">> Then he looks back at you, and his face hardens. "But now I'm worried about you. The others saw you today. The chances that they'll go after you are low—to them, you're a Shepherd, so of course you would naturally intervene to protect your commanding officer—but you may still be at risk. Especially if they come to believe that you are…" He trails off, his eyes suddenly fixed on yours. "…another weakness of mine." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Gaze back at him. "Why would they think that?"</div>' 'autogenerated_67876'>><<set $bladeromanceflag += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Lift your chin. "I'm not afraid of them."</div>' 'autogenerated_67877'>><<set $bladeromanceflag += 1>><<setcourage +1>><</link>> <<if $bladehelp is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Touch his face and turn it towards yours. You realize you didn't help him with the cut on his nose. "I'm going to be perfectly fine. It's you I'm worried about."</div>' 'autogenerated_67878'>><<set $bladeromanceflag += 5>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Laugh. "If they have the nerve to come after <i>me</i>, I won't hold back."</div>' 'autogenerated_67879'>><<set $bladeromanceflag -= 1>><<setcourage +1>><<setcompassionate -1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <<elseif $blade gte 50>> "But now I'm worried about you. The others saw you today. The chances that they'll go after you are low—to them, you're a Shepherd, so of course you would intervene to protect your commanding officer—but you may still be at risk." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Oh, please, I'm the Hero of Haven. I promise you I can take care of myself."</div>' 'autogenerated_67880'>><<setcourage +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"What do you recommend we do?"</div>' 'autogenerated_67881'>><<setblade +1>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Great, now <i>more</i> people want to kill me? I get enough of that on my own."</div>' 'autogenerated_67882'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I admit, I'm a little worried now."</div>' 'autogenerated_67883'>><<setcunning +1>><<setcourage -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Stop worrying about me and start worrying about yourself! You've let this go on for far too long!"</div>' 'autogenerated_67884'>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setloyal +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <<else>> <<include "blade_conclusion">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Blade closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. "That's not… these are…" He sighs, the sound incredibly weary and long-suffering. "As you say," he says eventually, his voice heavy with resignation. "But at least let me tell you what you need to watch out for." <<include 'blade_conclusion'>>

Blade's face is still grave, but he seems relieved that you're taking this seriously. "I'll need to go over some details with you," he says bluntly. "We should prepare for anything." <<include 'blade_conclusion'>>

Blade's face is dead serious and completely unsmiling. "I am sorry to add to your troubles," he says gravely. "I will do what I can to make sure you're safe." <<include 'blade_conclusion'>>

Blade's face is dead serious, and somehow pained. "I swore to you that I would keep you safe, to the best of my abilities," he tells you gravely. "I intend to keep that promise." <<include 'blade_conclusion'>>

Blade's face is dead serious and completely unsmiling. "You're right," he says gravely. "I'll do what I can to remedy the error before it affects you further." <<include 'blade_conclusion'>>

Blade suddenly seems entirely absorbed by your expression. His dark eyes drink in yours, roving over the details of your face. Without even realizing it, you two have shifted so that you're sitting mere inches from each other. From here you can feel the arma-thrumming heat and strength of him, his presence vibrating against your skin like a plucked string. You take in his aristocratic nose, his inky, disheveled hair, the hard line of his jaw. Blade takes a long breath, then lifts your hand—you hadn't realized he was still holding it all this time. <<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 25>> He kisses the knuckles, just briefly—his lips are like a fiery brand against your skin, making your hand burn and the heat rise in your face—before he releases you, as quickly and perfunctorily as if he'd never touched you in the first place. <<else>> He squeezes your fingers, just briefly—his touch is like a fiery brand against your skin—before he releases you, as quickly and perfunctorily as if he'd never touched you in the first place. <</if>><</nobr>> "They shouldn't," he says, his voice brisk now, cool and curt. He glances away from you before he eases off the bed. "But we should prepare for anything." <<include 'blade_conclusion'>>

Blade's expression becomes even more severe. "That's what <i>I'm</i> afraid of," he mutters, with a look of worried reproach. Then he suddenly reaches up and affectionately brushes a strand of hair away from your face, tucking it gently behind your ear. "Don't do anything stupid, <<c firstname>>." You stare at him as he eases off the bed, your cheek burning slightly where his fingers lingered across it. "I won't." <<include 'blade_conclusion'>>

Blade tenses, but he remains motionless, his eyes dark and still and patient, as you gently run your fingers over the bruises along his jaw and his split lip. The contact between you is electric, and between that and the way Blade's eyes seem to spear you in place, you find yourself stilling before you can even reach the bridge of his nose. Blade reaches up to catch your wrist—whether to goad you on or allay you, you don't know—before he turns, almost unconsciously, to nuzzle into your touch with a ragged breath, inadvertently pressing his lips against the heel of your palm in a silent, hungry motion. You catch your breath, dizzy suddenly with the tension and want of it all. But then, just as suddenly, Blade leans back from you… and gently pulls your hand away from his face. His eyes, when they meet yours again, are both grim and so dilated that you can't see any light in them. "We should go," he says, his voice rough now. He looks deeply unhappy. "I don't want anyone getting the wrong idea if you're spotted walking out of here." The color rises in your face at that. <i>The wrong idea.</i> "Er," you say, rising and trying to shake off the moment. "Right." <<include 'blade_conclusion'>>

Blade sighs, his expression weary and long-suffering. He doesn't say anything, but simply lifts his eyes to the ceiling and makes a silent gesture to ask the gods for forbearance and patience. <<include 'blade_conclusion'>>

<<nobr>><<set $bladestatus to "He's entrusted you with all of his secrets.">><<unset $bladehelp>><<unset $bladebout>><</nobr>>He rises and puts on a clean shirt, and the two of you head cautiously back out of his room, the free air and open space of the Tower feeling abrasive against your raw nerves as Blade impresses upon you his desire to equip you with additional protective measures. Still, no one else seems to notice anything amiss, and in perfect tandem the two of you move together <<nobr>><<if $bladehelp is false>> to the infirmary—Blade needs a Healer's attentions, after all—your shared secret now hanging in the air between you like a bound iron chain. <<else>> to the privacy of a conference room, intent on discussing the matter further, the secret you both now share hanging in the air between you like a bound iron chain. <</if>><</nobr>> <<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 20>> <br><br> And if you sense Blade's gaze lingering on you, well… you tell yourself it's only out of professional concern. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "bladeover">>

Blade has been surprisingly normal ever since your mutual run-in with his brother's Khehi assassins. If you were a betting $woman, you would have put money on him withdrawing from everyone else, shutting down emotionally or becoming aloof and reclusive (more than usual, anyway) after the painful revelations he made known to you in his room. Instead, however, business has carried on as usual, and Blade has exhibited no outward sign that anything out of the ordinary occurred: you suppose he's gotten used to compartmentalizing, to acting as if everything is in order. He's been matter-of-fact and curt, of course, but only in the usual sense. You wonder how long he's been keeping these deadly secrets to himself, whether it's been a strain to pretend as if his own brother isn't trying to kill him... or if it's just a part of his unique psychology to actually not be very perturbed. You're still wondering all of this when you pull open your door and find Blade standing in its threshold, his hand frozen halfway through a knock. His sudden appearance almost makes you jump out of your skin. "Hael's bells!" you hiss. Not only does it feel as if he's answered your telepathic summons, but with his dark clothes and height, he practically <i>looms</i> in your doorway, looking like a mordant shadow. Blade looks uncharacteristically awkward as you both stare at each other. After a blank moment, he says somewhat stiffly, "I... saw that you had the day off. I was wondering if you'd like to..." His voice trails off, as if hopeful you'd finish the sentence for him, but when you only stare at him, he rallies and continues in a more resolute tone, "...spend some time together." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Hide a grin. "How thoughtful of you."</div>' 'autogenerated_67885'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Outright grin. "The Commander of the Shepherds? Seeking <i>me</i> out? To spend time <i>together</i>?"</div>' 'autogenerated_67886'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Beam at him. "I was just thinking the same thing."</div>' 'autogenerated_67887'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Play it cool. "What did you have in mind?"</div>' 'whatdidyouhaveinmindblade'>><<setcompassionate -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Study your fingernails. "If this is about sparring or training again, I think I'll pass..."</div>' 'autogenerated_67888'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Stretch your muscles. "Are we going to spar? I'll take any opportunity to kick your ass."</div>' 'autogenerated_67889'>><<setcourage +1>><<setstrength +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Blade gives you a ghost of a rare smile. "It occurred to me that I never properly thanked you for intervening during that attack." He says it so evenly that the memory already seems somewhat commonplace. "And besides, you told me once that I needed to relax. This is my attempt at doing that."<<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 20>>He hesitates for the barest second, then adds, "With you."<</if>><</nobr>> You try not to sound too pleased as you ask, "What did you have in mind?" <<include 'whatdidyouhaveinmindblade'>>

<<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 20>>He gives you a damply-unimpressed look.<<else>>He gives you a sullen glare at your mocking tone. <</if>><</nobr>> "...Never mind." "No, wait!" You stop him with a laugh as he pretends to turn around and leave. "What did you have in mind?" <<include 'whatdidyouhaveinmindblade'>>

<<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 20>><<set $bladeromanceflag +=1>>Blade shifts his weight slightly, silent for the moment, but much as he tries to control his face, he can't help the lightening around his eyes, the way his mouth quirks up in a small, almost shy smile that makes him look ten years younger. <<else>> Blade gives you a ghost of a rare smile. <</if>><</nobr>> "It occurred to me that I never properly thanked you for intervening during that attack." He says it so evenly that the memory already seems somewhat commonplace. "And besides, you told me once that I needed to relax. This is my attempt at doing that."<<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 20>>He hesitates for the barest second, then adds, "And I would like to do that with you. If that would be something that you'd like." A somewhat baffled, pained expression crosses his face briefly before vanishing back into calm neutrality, as if he's wondering what the hell he's talking about.<</if>><</nobr>> You smile at him. <<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 21>>Blade looks taken aback for a <<nobr>><<if $intelligence gte 55 or $cunning gte 55>> moment, as if struck and dazzled,<<else>> moment<</if>><</nobr>> before smiling back. <</if>><</nobr>>"What did you have in mind?" <<include 'whatdidyouhaveinmindblade'>>

Blade casts you a sardonic glance. "Someone told me once that I should... <i>diversify</i>. This is my attempt to do that." "What did you have in mind?" you ask, curious despite yourself. <<include 'whatdidyouhaveinmindblade'>>

Blade gives you a droll look. "Someone told me once that I should... diversify. This is my attempt to do that." You cock your head at him. "What did you have in mind?" <<include 'whatdidyouhaveinmindblade'>>

Blade hesitates again before he says slowly: "The botanical gardens opened at the Sun Court." <<nobr>><<if $part < 9>><br><br>You blink, wondering if you misheard him. "In the middle of winter?" <br><br> Blade looks slightly pained as he explains, "The Court Mages tend to the place. The greenhouses and indoor gardens are always in perpetual bloom, though they're not always open to the public. They say the place is a hidden wonder of the Continent." <</if>><</nobr>> "Oh. I... didn't know you were interested in something like that," you state carefully. To your surprise, Blade scowls. <<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 20>>"I wanted to take you shopping," he admits, actually sounding aggrieved, "but after last time, the Market Quarter doesn't seem quite safe for either of us at the moment. Then I thought of a hike in the valley—but that, too, seems too remote. A restaurant or a teahouse seemed too common. Watching a match at the arena or a show at the theater wouldn't be conducive to conversation. Staying here was too plain." <br><br> Before you can express surprise at how much thought he's clearly put into this, he adds, <<else>> "I need to get away from my thoughts," he admits, looking disgruntled, his dark eyes sliding away from yours. "Normally I would go for a hike in the valley, but considering the situation at hand, that seems too remote: it's a security risk. So is going anywhere overly crowded, like the Market Quarter or a show. It's too early in the day to drink at a bar or get a meal. And I don't feel like staying in. I've been doing that enough." Before you can ask him to elaborate on his apparent restlessness, he adds, <</if>><</nobr>> "The Sun Court, at least, is well-protected, the gardens doubly so. We can be sure that any of Gladius's agents—if they're still around—won't follow us there." That does sober you a little. "Have you seen any sign of them lately?" <i>Have there been any more attempts on your life?</i> But Blade shakes his head gravely. "No. I think they've withdrawn from the city, at least for now. If I were still among their ranks, I'd see this is as a time to regroup. They're considering alternative plans, reevaluating their options in the face of present failure." But then he jerks his head abruptly, as if to cut off any further thought along that track, and asks, more <<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 20>>humbly,<<else>>briskly,<</if>><</nobr>> "Would you like to come?" <<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 21>>His dark eyes watch you, his expression carefully neutral but something sweet and unhappy in his gaze. "I would enjoy your company." <br><br> He says it with such soft, quiet truth that your heart clenches, as if he'd said something else entirely. <</if>><</nobr>> <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'd love to."</div>' 'autogenerated_67890'>><<setblade +5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Sure, I'll come."</div>' 'autogenerated_67891'>><<setblade +5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I think I'll pass this time."</div>' 'autogenerated_67892'>><<setblade -5>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 15>><<set $bladeromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</nobr>>Blade gives you a small smile. "I'm glad." Then he glances at the window behind you, where a feathery, grey snowfall has begun to brush the glass. "Be sure to dress warm." <<include 'tothegardens'>>

Blade gives you a small smile. "I'm glad," he says with an acknowledging tilt of his head. Then he glances at the window behind you, where a feathery, grey snowfall has begun to brush the glass. "Better dress warm." <<include 'tothegardens'>>

<<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 5>><<set $bladeromanceflag -= 10>><</if>><</nobr>>Blade nods curtly. "Understood." With that, he turns and leaves with a perfunctory manner that substitutes a verbal goodbye. <<include 'bladeover'>>

<<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 20 and $attractedto is not "women" and $bladeharden gte 1>> <<include "wanderingmarketwithbladefirst">> <<else>> <<include "tothegardenswithblade">><</if>><</nobr>>

Despite Blade's most valiant efforts, your route up to the Sun Court at the top of the city still takes you through the crowded bridges and thoroughfares of the Market Quarter, though Blade is careful to herd you along the most direct, open routes and never once leaves your side. You pass a dizzying array of stalls and their wares: walls of gilded birdcages filled with bright jeweled birds, vats of painted bronzefish in tepid water, spreads of fans and swords and wands and books in every shape and size. Blade stands alert and vigilant at your shoulder when you occasionally pause to look, his gaze roving over the faces around you; but once or twice you glance up at him to make some remark or ask for some feedback, only to find that he's watching <i>you</i>, his stare intense. Whenever your gazes meet, he glances away, as if he's been caught doing something unseemly—but still, the feeling of being scrutinized closely doesn't leave you as you make your way through the market. "Something on your mind?" you ask him finally, conscious of his hand hovering over your back as he creates room to prevent bystanders from bumping into you. His face is as set and remote as a soldier's, but his bearing as he leans down to catch your words reminds you of something more gentle, a courteous and attentive nobleman paying careful attention to an honored guest. Blade glances at you swiftly, then away again. "How did people court each other, where you came from?" You stare up at him, trying not to look too slack-jawed at the sudden change in subject. "In <<nobr>><<if $heritage is "Ket">>Drummond's Point?<<elseif $heritage is "Elf">> Vale?<<elseif $heritage is "Norm">> Westwood?<<else>> Maj?<</if>><</nobr>>" You were generally too young to take notice of such things, though things made more sense when you were older. "The usual way, I suppose. Lovers would visit each other, spend private time together. <<nobr>><<if $heritage is "Elf">>Poetry or love songs were usually involved. <<elseif $heritage is "Ket">> They'd give each other gifts, usually something one had found out at sea or in some foreign port, or even just a shell on the beach, and go on long walks together. <<elseif $heritage is "Norm">> They'd dance together on the village green or during festival days, choose each other as partners for various social events. Everyone knew if they were serious about each other. <<else>> They'd dance together on the village green or during festival days. Usually one would ask the permission of the other's parents, sometimes bringing a dowry-gift to prove that they were capable of providing for their partner. Sometimes if someone planted a tree or a post in an empty field or plot of land, that was thought of as a very serious declaration. It meant they'd staked out the place as their future homestead with their lover. <</if>><</nobr>> Why do you ask?" Blade has listened to all of this with the intensity that he usually assumes during mission briefings. "In Ygrath," he says carefully, "people aren't generally very public about their declarations—not until after marriage, where the union becomes more common knowledge. Up until then, things were either extremely discreet, usually between the two individuals only, or were more formalized, with the involvement of their families if it was an arranged betrothal. There would be private letters, private visits behind closed doors, subtle contrived excuses to see each other in public or in group settings without raising any alarms. And above all, the exchanging of gifts became very meaningful. When Ket don't feel at liberty to speak their true feelings out loud, gestures and tokens develop their own language. A hairpin is a lover's token. Jewelry can be improper depending upon the manner of acquaintance. Something like a custom instrument..." He trails off, looking faintly frustrated. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"...That's all fascinating, but what does it have to do with anything?"</div>' 'autogenerated_67893'>><<setintelligence -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Why are we talking about this?"</div>' 'autogenerated_67894'>><<setintelligence -1>><<set $bladeromanceflag -= 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"It sort of sounds like the Norm nobility. Fan language and flower language and all of that."</div>' 'autogenerated_67895'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>> <<if $intelligence gte 55 and $charisma gte 55>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"It must make shopping for gifts confusing. I can see how one might... overthink it."</div>' 'autogenerated_67896'>><<set $bladeromanceflag += 1>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>><</if>> <<if $intelligence lt 55 or $charisma lt 55>><div class="inactive-item">"It must make shopping for gifts confusing. I can see how one might... overthink it."</div><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"What, you mean you don't just buy each other weapons or weapon-adjacent items or weapons disguised as other implements?"</div>' 'autogenerated_67897'>><<setblade +1>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> <<if $heritage is "Ket">><<link '<div class="heritage-item">"Like Drummond's Point, then. My father used to bring my mother back all manner of things from his travels."</div>' 'autogenerated_67898'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $intelligence gte 65 and $charisma gte 65>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Hide a smile. Blade can't possibly be implying that he's been shopping for <i>you</i>, could he?</div>' 'autogenerated_67899'>><<setcharisma +1>><<setintelligence +1>><<set $bladeromanceflag += 2>><</link>><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

But Blade only sighs and shakes his head, as if wondering that very question himself. <<include 'tothegardenswithblade'>>

But Blade only makes a face and shakes his head. <<include 'tothegardenswithblade'>>

It's common material in romance novels and court books, the idea that lovers within the aristocracy place enormous weight on things the general public wouldn't think twice about. Blade smiles slightly and says, "Yes, the similarity is there, though most northern Ket would be offended to have it pointed out to them." But when you wait for him to follow his original line of thought, he instead changes the subject and asks your thoughts on your last mission instead. <<include 'tothegardenswithblade'>>

Blade glances at you once, then smiles, as if to himself. "A man could easily find himself out of his depth," he acknowledges, lightly. "Not always a comfortable feeling. But worth it, if victory is possible." <<include 'tothegardenswithblade'>>

He huffs, clearly understanding your reference to the pen he once bought you. "Even I know that romance is something else entirely," he mutters, half to himself. But then he changes the subject and asks you about your thoughts on your latest mission. <<include 'tothegardenswithblade'>>

You wonder what silent messages, what secret language was being exchanged between them without your ever knowing. Blade nods. "Yes, it seems your village shared that disposition, though I'd guess they were probably more open about their feelings than those in the old city-states. Theirs was a company of comrades-in-arms and fellow soldiers, all united together under one purpose. They trusted each other and were bonded through battle and blood. In the capitals, there are always clan divides, feuding factions, enemy spies to worry about." "I've never known if it was a good thing that my parents were exiles hiding from the authorities, that they brought me up divorced from so much of that," you admit. Blade grants you a thoughtful look. "Only you could decide that. Perhaps they meant to tell you more about it when you were older." You shake your head slowly. "I'm not so sure about that." The more you grow up and observe the way Ket like Blade behave, the more you realize how much the shame of defeat must have impacted the community at Drummond's Point, the desire to renounce their origins entirely and be forgotten by the world. Talking about their culture or past must have been acutely painful for them. They must have wanted to shed it like an old skin, even if they could never quite manage it. Blade, watching you, nudges you slightly, a kind of check-in or query. When you look up at him, you see that his brow is furrowed: he's wondering if he's upset you. <<include 'bladegrimacechoice'>>

And in the context of courtship? It's hard to believe, given his position as Commander and the policy forbidding Shepherds from becoming romantically involved, but why else would he be thinking about any of this? You remember how closely he scrutinized you while you browsed. Trying to get a better sense of your preferences and tastes, perhaps? How long has he been agonizing over this? You glance up at his face, back to its natural stoicism. Or is this just wishful thinking on your part? <<include 'tothegardenswithblade'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You look away. You're not sure what to say.</div>' 'autogenerated_67900'>><<setblade -5>><<set $bladeromanceflag -= 5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Turn the conversation light-hearted. "I suppose I'd rather be me than you. At least I don't have a brother trying to assassinate me."</div>' 'autogenerated_67901'>><<setblade +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Change the topic. "What were we talking about? Courtship?"</div>' 'autogenerated_67902'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Blade looks away as well, and a dispirited, heavy silence falls over both of you. <<include 'tothegardenswithblade'>>

Blade actually snorts, surprised into a laugh. "That is true. I'd rather you be you than me, too." <<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 20>>He nudges you slightly again, fondly, as if relieved to see that you're not in pain. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'tothegardenswithblade'>>

Blade looks purposefully blank. "I can't recall." Swiftly, he begins to ask you about your thoughts on your last mission. <<include 'tothegardenswithblade'>>

You and Blade walk to the botanical gardens together, talking all along the way about various sundry topics: your travels, your coworkers, an outrageous story about one of Trouble's pant legs and a fire, your preferences regarding the weather, the difference between naval travel and horseback, the philosophies of a famous Ket general-poet, criticism about a recent play. The weather has turned sharp and blustery, the wind snapping at your clothes and numbing your face with sudden cold, but once you pass through the fine-wrought gates of the gardens, the air instantly turns more temperate, glittering with a fine tepid mist and refreshing in its mildness rather than harsh. The effects of the Autarch's famous court magic, no doubt. Blade visibly relaxes once you pass across that unseen boundary, though his arm is never far from his sword, buckled on his other side and held carefully away from you. When the official Sun Court guards patrolling the front entrance of the garden—and indeed, the entire district—move to waylay you, they glance at your medallions and then at Blade's face before discreetly backing off. For all they know, you're here on Shepherd business. Thus, you're free to wander the gardens at your leisure, taking in orderly paths of exotic, curling ferns and beds of strange herbs with leaves excuding pungent oils. Blade was right: there are strange, immense trees here, ancient and heavy with alien fruit, their branches sprawling so thickly that there are times when you seem to walk in complete darkness under their boughs. Beds of fragrant roses named after famous princesses fight for attention; thousands of flowers with sweet blooms the size of your head burst around you in every color imaginable. You've never seen anything quite like it, not all in one place. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You're totally enraptured. You love plants and nature and green things; this place is fascinating to you.</div>' 'autogenerated_67903'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You find yourself relaxing. Blade's instincts were right: you needed a quiet place like this to get away from it all.</div>' 'autogenerated_67904'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You're indifferent to all of this. You're just here to keep Blade company.</div>' 'autogenerated_67905'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You cover your mouth to hide a yawn. This isn't your thing at all.</div>' 'autogenerated_67906'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Blade glances over you as you exclaim over a huge flower that unfurls like a giant purple starfish, bending to breathe in its strange, intoxicating scent. <<nobr>><<if $specialization is "elementalist">>"I had a feeling you would enjoy this place," he remarks, amused. "You are an Elementalist, after all. Have you always had a green thumb?" <<else>>"I had a feeling you would enjoy this place," he remarks, amused. "Have you always had a green thumb?"<</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'greenthumb'>>

Blade glances over at you as you lapse into a peaceful, content silence, filling your lungs with the sweet, crisp air of the garden. "I was hoping you'd enjoy this place," he remarks, amused. "Would you say that you have a green thumb?" You bend to examine a huge flower that unfurls like a giant purple starfish. <<include 'greenthumb'>>

Blade glances over at you, somewhat amused. "Not much of a green thumb?" <<include 'greenthumb3'>>

Blade glances over at your expression, somewhat amused. "Not much of a green thumb?" <<include 'greenthumb3'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Always. I've always loved nature, and I have a talent for raising plants myself."</div>' 'autogenerated_67907'>><<setastral +1>><</link>> <<if $heritage is "Norm" or $heritage is "Hunter">><<link '<div class="heritage-item">"Of course. It's in my blood. I grew up on a farm, you know."</div>' 'autogenerated_67908'>><<setastral +1>><</link>><</if>> <<if $heritage is "Elf">><<link '<div class="heritage-item">"Of course. I was raised by Elves; it's in my blood."</div>' 'autogenerated_67909'>><<setastral +1>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I appreciate it when I see it, but I'm a disaster at growing things myself. I either overthink it or I'm too forgetful."</div>' 'autogenerated_67910'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"It's more that I appreciate it all with an artist's eye. The colors, the scents... It's all very aesthetic."</div>' 'autogenerated_67911'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"It's more about the science of it all. How did this plant evolve to adapt to its environment, say? Why does this flower have such a long neck?"</div>' 'autogenerated_67912'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>> <<if $belief is "oldfaith">><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I love anything that showcases the gods' designs."</div>' 'autogenerated_67913'>><<setfaith +1>><</link>><</if>> <<if $belief is "one-god">><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I love anything that showcases the glory of the One-God's designs."</div>' 'autogenerated_67914'>><<setfaith +1>><</link>><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

Blade nods. "I did notice a profusion of greenery in your room. Tallys has started a community garden in one of the side courtyards, you know. I'm sure she'd be pleased if you joined her." You glance humorously at him. "You know about that? Seems like an unauthorized use of the space, Commander." "As much as I'd prefer my officers to be inhuman killing machines, I am aware of the need for leisure activities and morale boosters," Blade drawls. "You just never participate in any yourself." "It's too late for me. According to the recruits, I'm already full machine." You grin. "Would you ever want to, though? Garden, I mean?" <<include 'bladegreenthumb5'>>

You knew how to coax seedlings out of the ground before you even learned how to read. Sometimes the idea of plunging your hands into good clean soil still helps you relax. A smile tugs at the side of Blade's mouth. "Farm<<nobr>><<if $gender is "female">>girl<<elseif $gender is "male">>boy<<else>>er<</if>><</nobr>> <<c firstname>>," he says, a bit teasingly. "Who knew the city's hero had such rustic origins?" You thump his shoulder in retaliation. "What about you?" <<include 'bladegreenthumb'>>

You couldn't quite hear old trees talk, the way your full-blooded relatives could, but you inherited the Elves' love of nature and green things all the same. "Tallys has started a community garden in one of the side courtyards," Blade remarks, a smile tugging at the side of his mouth. "I'm sure she'd be pleased if you joined her." You glance humorously at him. "You know about that? Seems like an unauthorized use of the space, Commander." "As much as I'd prefer my officers to be inhuman killing machines, I am aware of the need for leisure activities and morale boosters," Blade drawls. "You just never participate in any yourself." "It's too late for me. According to the recruits, I'm already full machine." You grin. "Would you ever want to, though? Garden, I mean?" <<include 'bladegreenthumb5'>>

Blade nods, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Somehow, that suits you perfectly," he says, a low laugh in his tone. You grin at him. "What about you?" <<include 'bladegreenthumb'>>

Blade nods thoughtfully. "I suppose I never thought of it that way," he admits, looking around at the riot of color all around you. "You have an interesting way of seeing the world, <<c firstname>>." You look over at him. "I'm guessing you never took much notice of nature or plant life, then?" <<include 'bladegreenthumb'>>

Blade pauses at that, glancing around at the riot of plant life all around you. "I suppose I never thought of it that way," he comments slowly, frowning down at a near-black rose. You glance up at him; the two of you have never discussed religion before. "Do you believe in the gods? Or a creator of any kind?" Blade, his hands clasped behind his back, shrugs slightly as the two of you move slowly up the path. "I was technically raised in the Old Faith, though I think it was more of a place to plant their flag out of stubbornness than a matter of true belief for my parents," he says. "They rarely referenced Tholjass and Corvus in conversation, not the way the pious or the devout do, but we visited the temples every year as a matter of course, and propriety, and tradition. If we hadn't, it was as if we were letting the Autarchy win." He shrugs again. "But I never felt true religious conviction myself." He hesitates, watching you sidelong as if to gauge you for a reaction. "I can't say I have any explanation for how the universe came to be, or anything like that. But I would say that I've felt the absence of the gods more in my life than not." "Because they're sleeping, or because you believe they never existed?" Blade makes an open-handed, ambivalent gesture. <<nobr>><<if $part gt 7>>"I'm not sure anymore," he says in a low voice. <<else>>"Both."<</if>><</nobr>> You both fall silent as a couple steps past you along the path, their footsteps crunching against the pebbles underfoot as you gaze at a small, still pond shaded by reeds. "Nature isn't exactly a spiritual communion for you, then," you say lightly. <<include 'bladegreenthumb4'>>

Blade pauses at that, glancing around at the riot of plant life all around you. "I suppose I never thought of it that way," he comments slowly, frowning down at a near-black rose. You glance up at him; the two of you have never discussed religion before. "Do you believe in a creator?" Blade, his hands clasped behind his back, shrugs slightly as the two of you move slowly up the path. "I was technically raised in the Old Faith, though I think it was more of a place to plant their flag out of stubborness than a matter of true belief for my parents," he says. "They rarely referenced Tholjass and Corvus in conversation, not the way the pious or the devout do, but we visited the temples every year as a matter of course, and propriety, and tradition. If we hadn't, it was as if we were letting the Autarchy win." He shrugs again. "But I never felt true religious conviction myself." He hesitates, watching you sidelong as if to gauge you for a reaction. "I can't say I have any explanation for how the universe came to be, or anything like that. But I would say that I've felt the absence of the gods more in my life than not. The One-God and the old gods. I think I'm too pessimistic for that kind of faith." You both fall silent as a couple steps past you along the path, their footsteps crunching against the pebbles underfoot as you gaze at a small, still pond shaded by reeds. "Nature isn't exactly a spiritual communion for you, then," you say lightly. <<include 'bladegreenthumb4'>>

His mouth quirks at that. "Not exactly." <<include "bladegreenthumb">>

"Take up the trowel?" <<include "bladegreenthumb">>

You shake your head with a snort. "Decidedly not. What about you?" <<include "bladegreenthumb">>

He shrugs as you move into the first of several large greenhouses, greeted by a blast of warm, moist air and the whirring jungle sounds of birds, frogs, and crickets. "I was usually too busy to take much notice when I was younger. In training, you were taught to think of your environment in terms of sight lines, camouflage, defensibility, not in terms of aesthetics or pleasure. There were craftsmen who cultivated such arts, of course, but I never had much exposure to them." He examines a nearby flowering ground fruit with a mixture of interest and wariness. "But we had—have—extensive grounds at our family estate. There were gardens there, and for a few summers when I was a child, I enjoyed spending time in them. When I moved out, I did try to plant my own garden in my off-time, in the small yard that came with the house. Mostly tomatoes and a few herbs. But I was away on missions so often, and kept busy with so many other tasks when I was in town, that it wasn't a long-lived venture." He looks dry at the thought, then briefly more sober. "And now..." He makes a vague gesture. "I'm not sure what they've done with the place now. The yard has probably turned fallow." The air is green and singing around you. Blade has never made much mention of his past before, or not in such specific detail: it almost surprises you to learn that he has a childhood home at all, rather than simply springing up out of the earth fully-grown. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"And your family estate?"</div>' 'autogenerated_67915'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"How old were you when you moved out on your own?"</div>' 'autogenerated_67916'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Does it make you sad, the idea of your house lying empty now?"</div>' 'autogenerated_67917'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Tomatoes?"</div>' 'autogenerated_67918'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Blade glances over at you, his expression neutral. "Gladius inherited it when our parents died," he says simply. "It's still technically his, and always will be, but he keeps an apartment closer to the leadership headquarters in the center of town. So it lies empty except for when family comes to stay there, or when he needs to use it for large gatherings." "Couldn't you have kept living there, if he doesn't use it much?" Blade lifts one broad shoulder in a shrug. "No second son likes to live at the behest of his older brother, even if he's never there. I wanted a place of my own." <<include 'poisonblade'>>

"Fifteen." At your expression, he smiles slightly and adds, "It's a normal age for Khehi-Ket to seek their independence. No second son likes to live at the behest of his older brother, even if the family estate would have been big enough for both of us." "What was your new house like?" "It was small and practical, easy to maintain, especially for someone who was away for long stretches of time. A lot of Ygrath's buildings are designed for that. Some might say it didn't have the grandeur befitting a member of the Bronwyn clan, but it suited me well enough. I chose it for the yard." He says it idly, without particular attachment, but you have to wonder if there's a hidden wistfulness there. "There was a covered porch, space for a pond one day. High walls. An old widow lived next door. I ended up weeding her front path more often than my own." The idea makes you smile. A young assassin Blade, coming home with bloodied and battered armor from some mysterious assignment, still taking the time to help an old woman with her chores? "It sounds strangely normal." Blade casts you a sarcastic glance, a slight, knowing smirk on his face. "Strange because I'm so far from normal?" "Because you're such an important figure around here. I couldn't imagine an old woman stopping you and asking you to weed for her here in Haven." "I would help her if she asked," he says in a dignified tone. Then he catches your eye, and you both start to laugh. <<include 'poisonblade'>>

It would make you sad. Until recently, you've never really thought about how Blade's life as a Shepherd is so bisected from his life as an assassin. He had an entire life planned out, a career and family and friends, a house and a future laid out before him... For some reason his past has been so shadowy that it feels like he never had anything to lose at all. But Blade only shakes his head with a small, rueful smile. "I don't think about it much. To tell you the truth, Khehi-Ket are trained not to have any particular sentimentality towards their possessions or even their homes. In warfare, things have to be abandoned in an instant, never to be retrieved again. Whole cities are built on evacuation plans that assumed everything would burn behind them, so the only focus in those first twenty minutes is to get as many people out as possible. There even used to be some clans that took that philosophy to its farthest extent, in the oldest, most ancient days; they refused to build permanent structures at all, and would ritualistically burn any buildings they had made every ten years, along with anything else too big or heavy or that they were too invested in that they couldn't drop it and run if they needed to. That was thousands of years ago, though. Still, some of that 'ruthless abandonment' attitude still remains." He pauses, then adds thoughtfully, "There is also the fact that I assumed my last day in Ygrath was truly going to be my last day; I thought I would die on my mission to kill the Autarch. I said my goodbyes then, at least mentally. I was never going to return to that house, even if everything had gone according to plan." "I'm glad, then, that it didn't," you say quietly. Blade looks over at you with another of those wry smiles. "I am, too." <<include 'poisonblade'>>

He smiles faintly. "It seemed the practical choice. I had no need of flowers, but something I could eat made sense to me. If I were to ever do it again, I might plant khav or tea leaves." <<include 'gardenchoices'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Or what about herbs and medicinal plants? That's what I'd plant."</div>' 'autogenerated_67919'>><<setintelligence +1>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Fruits and vegetables sound fun. I'd plant a whole orchard."</div>' 'autogenerated_67920'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"What's wrong with flowers? I think you should plant some flowers."</div>' 'autogenerated_67921'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Don't forget grapes to make your own wine."</div>' 'autogenerated_67922'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I think tea and khav sounds lovely."</div>' 'autogenerated_67923'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Blade casts you an amused glance. "You're even more practical-minded than I am. Fine, then. In my hypothetical garden, I'll plant balms and medicines on your behalf." <<include 'poisonblade'>>

Blade smiles slightly. "You'd have to help me tend to it. Those kinds of things run on a schedule: it'd be a shame to let the harvest go to waste because there was no one around to pick it." <<include 'poisonblade'>>

<<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 20>>Blade glances over at you affectionately. "If that's what you'd want," he says peacably. Something about the casual way he says it makes your cheeks warm. <<else>>He looks at you dryly. "Or you could get your own garden."<br><br> "No, I think you should do it." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'poisonblade'>>

Blade laughs quietly. "Now you want to turn me into an all-purpose brewery." "Why not? I bet people would clamor to buy drinks from the Commander of the Shepherds. We could make our own label." "I'm interested to hear what your part in this scheme is, since it sounds like I'll be doing all of the work." "I'm the business manager, of course. And the face of the brand." "Ah. Of course." <<include 'poisonblade'>>

Blade smiles slightly. "It does in theory. Wait until we find out I'm only capable of growing the bitterest of leaves." <<include 'poisonblade'>>

You come to a halt to observe a cluster of glowbells, luminescent flowers that emit a soft blue glimmer in the dark, their tiny belled heads drooping on heavy necks. "When it comes to flowers, I'm lost," Blade admits as you watch a hummingbird with a bright pink throat dart enthusiastically between the leaves. "I couldn't tell you the difference between a poppy and a violet. But poisons, antidotes, botanics, and things a survivalist needs to know—what can be eaten, what can serve as an antibacterial salve—those, I'm very familiar with. Those berries, for example"—he nods towards a bush with snow-white, pearl-like berries—"are called waxbeads. When their skin is removed, dried, crushed into a fine powder, and mixed with siltroot ash, they form a near-flavorless toxin that causes one's heart to stop. With enough forewarning and sufficient arma control, a Ket can purge the poison from his system before it does any damage. Very possibly a Healer Mage could, too. But many are the Norm nobles who live in fear of that berry. I'm surprised the Autarch's keepers grow it here at all." But then something dour and ominous falls over him, darkening his mood, and he clamps his mouth tight, and a shadow passes over his eyes and turns them into hard, flinty chips of onyx. <<page_break "Next" "poisonblade2">>

You glance at him sidelong as the two of you continue your slow walk through the gardens. While Blade is generally considered a quiet person, he's always been attentive and focused whenever you've spent time together. Today feels different: it's clear his mind is elsewhere, some dark preoccupation weighing on him so heavily that it's apparent even through his generally aloof facade. He seems... disheartened, somehow, distracted and remote. Something is really troubling him—and maybe he's more comfortable showing that to you because you now know the true problems he's been facing all this time. "What's on your mind, Blade?" He lifts his eyes to yours. "I'm sorry," he says after a moment, the look in his eyes distant, almost hunted. Certainly tired. "My mind keeps straying to that other matter, even when I try not to think about it. Unwelcome thoughts. I probably make poor company right now." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"It's not about that. You don't have to hide your feelings from me just so I can have a good time."</div>' 'bladenightmares1'>><<set $bladeharden += 1>><<setblade +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You're my friend, and I care about you. I just want to know what's truly on your mind. What is it that's bothering you?"</div>' 'bladenightmares2'>><<set $bladeharden += 2>><<setblade +3>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setloyal +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Yeah, you're being a drag. So out with it: what's going on? Let's get it over with."</div>' 'bladenightmares3'>><<setloyal -3>><<setcompassionate -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Your mood doesn't affect me either way. But if you want to unburden yourself, that's up to you."</div>' 'bladenightmares4'>><<setloyal -5>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Blade looks over at you, searchingly. <<include "bladenightmare5">>

<<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 20>><<set $bladeromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</nobr>> Blade softens slightly, looking over at you, almost searchingly. <<include "bladenightmare5">>

Blade snorts at your belligerent tone. "Charming," he mutters. Then he looks over at you, searchingly. <<include "bladenightmare5">>

Blade nods slowly, then looks over at you searchingly. <<include "bladenightmare5">>

"Who do you trust most in this world?" You blink at the question. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You, Blade."</div>' 'autogenerated_67924'>><<setblade +5>><<set $bladeharden += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Trouble."</div>' 'autogenerated_67925'>><<settrouble +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Tallys."</div>' 'autogenerated_67926'>><<settallys +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Shery."</div>' 'autogenerated_67927'>><<setshery +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Riel."</div>' 'autogenerated_67928'>><<setriel +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Chase."</div>' 'autogenerated_67929'>><<setchase +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Red."</div>' 'autogenerated_67930'>><<setred +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Ayla."</div>' 'autogenerated_67931'>><<setayla +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Halek."</div>' 'autogenerated_67932'>><<sethalek +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Briony."</div>' 'autogenerated_67933'>><<setbriony +3>><</link>> <<if $lavinetjoin is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Lavinet."</div>' 'autogenerated_67934'>><<setlavinet +3>><</link>><</if>> <<if $mimirjoin is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Mimir."</div>' 'autogenerated_67935'>><<setmimir +3>><</link>><</if>> <<if $cainejoin is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Caine."</div>' 'autogenerated_67936'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I trust all of you with my life."</div>' 'autogenerated_67937'>><<setloyal +5>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setblade +3>><<set $bladeharden += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Someone you don't know."</div>' 'autogenerated_67938'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Everyone I truly trusted in this world is dead."</div>' 'autogenerated_67939'>><<set $traumatized += 1>><<set $bladeharden -= 1>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setloyal -5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I don't trust anyone to the extent you're talking about."</div>' 'autogenerated_67940'>><<set $bladeharden -= 5>><<setcunning +5>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setblade -7>><<setloyal -15>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 20 and $gender is "female" and $attractedto is not "women">><<set $bladeromanceflag += 3>>Blade looks over at you with a warmth in his eyes that takes your breath away. He smiles at you, a small, wondering expression. <<else>> Blade looks over at you with surprise, clearly gauging whether you're serious or not. Eventually, he smiles, a small, wondering expression. <</if>><</nobr>> "I am honored by your regard," he tells you, inclining his head. <<nobr>><<if $blade gte 90 or $bladeromanceflag gte 20>>"And I... feel the same way towards you." He looks away, clearing his throat as if embarrassed.<</if>><</nobr>> "Why did you ask me that?" you ask him. <<include 'bladeandtrust'>>

<<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 20>><<set $bladeromanceflag -= 1>><</if>><</nobr>> Blade nods once, curtly. "I'm not surprised," he intones. "Trouble is eminently trustworthy. I'm not sure he could lie to save his life." "Why do you ask?" you ask him. <<include 'bladeandtrust'>>

Blade nods gravely. "That makes sense," he says. "Tallys is wise, clear-headed, patient, and eminently competent. Your trust is well-founded." "Why do you ask?" you ask him. <<include 'bladeandtrust'>>

Blade nods gravely. "That makes sense. Shery is extremely good-natured. I don't believe she's capable of deceiving or betraying anyone, not even her enemies." "Why do you ask?" you ask him. <<include 'bladeandtrust'>>

Blade nods gravely. "That makes sense. Riel Syndran is one of the smartest men I've ever met. I think we all have come to trust him implicitly." "Why do you ask?" you ask him. <<include 'bladeandtrust'>>

<<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 20 and $attractedto is not "women">><<set $bladeromanceflag -= 5>><</if>><</nobr>>Blade casts you a disbelieving glance, as if checking to see if you're joking. When you don't budge, he blinks slowly before he says with an effort: "He is unorthodox, but he gets the job done." "Why do you ask?" you ask him. <<include 'bladeandtrust'>>

<<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 20 and $attractedto is not "women">><<set $bladeromanceflag -= 10>>Blade pauses, just for a moment, in mid-step. It's subtle, but it's as close to a flinch as he typically gets. "Ah." That's all he seems able to say. <<else>>Blade looks unamused, but seems to accept this. "Yes, he is very intelligent."<</if>><</nobr>> "Why do you ask?" you ask him. <<include 'bladeandtrust'>>

Blade nods gravely. "That makes sense. She's emotional, but courageous and fiercely loyal. I'd trust her to watch my back as well." "Why do you ask?" you ask him. <<include 'bladeandtrust'>>

Blade nods gravely. "That makes sense. For all his facade of laziness, he's a fierce warrior as well as a steadfast friend." "Why do you ask?" you ask him. <<include 'bladeandtrust'>>

Blade nods gravely. "That makes sense. She's incapable of dishonesty, and she's passionately devoted to her friends. She'd die for her loved ones without hesitation." "Why do you ask?" you ask him. <<include 'bladeandtrust'>>

Blade nods gravely. "That makes sense. She shows rare virtue for a courtier, and is extremely competent in all areas. I suspect many people vest their trust in her." "Why do you ask?" you ask him. <<include 'bladeandtrust'>>

Blade gives you a dubious glance, but doesn't comment on your choice. "Why do you ask?" you ask him. <<include 'bladeandtrust'>>

Blade smiles thinly. "He does worship you. I think he'd rather die than displease you." "Why do you ask?" you ask him. <<include 'bladeandtrust'>>

<<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 20 and $gender is "female" and $attractedto is not "women">><<set $bladeromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</nobr>> Blade glances over at you with something like a fond smile. "I'm glad you feel that way," he says quietly. "Your trust is well-founded... and returned, obviously. I admit I'm surprised by how close we've all become." "Why did you ask me that?" you ask him. <<include 'bladeandtrust'>>

Blade nods gravely, absorbing this information. "Why do you ask?" you ask him. <<include 'bladeandtrust'>>

Blade is silent for a long moment, watching you from beneath his lashes. Finally he inclines his head slightly and says quietly, "I am sorry, then, for your pain." You look away, biting the inside of your cheek. "Why do you ask?" <<include 'bladeandtrust'>>

<<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 10>><<set $bladeromanceflag -= 10>><</if>><</nobr>> Blade is silent for a long moment, watching you sidelong. Finally he inclines his head slightly and says quietly, "I suppose I can't blame you for that." You meet his gaze coolly. "Why do you ask?" <<include 'bladeandtrust'>>

Blade is quiet for a few moments, thinking on what to say, and the sounds of the garden seep into the silence between you like golden syrup; you're actually beginning to sweat a little beneath your clothes. Something flashes between the palm fronds and disappears, a butterfly-like flicker. Finally Blade says: "There are different kinds of trust, I think. There's a Kettish saying for one kind, something that often gets mistranslated by outsiders. <i>Always turn your back on your friends</i>. In the past, scholars who didn't know better took the phrase to mean that the Ket will always prioritize the mission over relationships, that we're willing to leave fallen friends behind if it means accomplishing our goals. It was their way of highlighting how warlike our people are. In reality, the true wording actually means the opposite. In Kettish, the act of turning your back is more like <i>showing</i> your back; a sign of vulnerability, of total trust. The saying means to surround yourself with people you're willing to have stand behind you, to trust that they'll watch your back rather than plunge a knife into it." You don't say anything for the moment, taking this in. The obvious train of logic here is that Blade's trust in this area has been damaged; how could it not be? His own brother and cousins want to kill him: people who presumably claimed to love him, who have known him since birth. Who can he trust if not them? It would skew anyone's sense of vulnerability and loyalty. But to your surprise, Blade goes on without making reference to this. "But there are other kinds of trust," he continues, more heavily. "<i>Kith'na'an</i>. Trust in—your friends' competence. Faith enough in their abilities that you don't have to worry about protecting them, that you don't drive yourself insane with fear that they'll be hurt and that you're the only one who can prevent that. Trust in them not to die." A ringing silence falls between you. Despite yourself, your pulse flutters in your throat like a hummingbird's wings. "Usually, the word brings to mind scenarios where a soldier might have to leave his sword-brother or sword-sister behind on the battlefield, holding off the enemy horde and facing impossible odds, having such total faith in them that he can't even worry about the decision, can't allow himself to picture their death, so ironclad is his surety in them," Blade says steadily. "But, of course, it has other uses, too." He frowns to himself, then finally looks your way, his black gaze tight and troubled. "I've been having nightmares, <<c firstname>>," he admits. Although his tone is quiet, level, he says it like the words are literally being dragged out of him; you suspect he's never said something like this out loud to another soul before. "Ever since you intervened in that fight with my... would-be killers. I kept thinking about what could have gone wrong, what would have happened if you'd been injured because of me, <<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 20>>or even..." His voice abruptly drops to something cold and lethal, a leashed, choked fury in his voice that promises violence. For a moment his eyes glitter strangely. "...killed. <<else>> or even killed. I couldn't get the thought out of my head. <</if>><</nobr>> And then I started thinking about what would happen if Gladius's forces <i>did</i> escalate, and what would happen next time, and what if Trouble or Tallys were caught in the crossfire, if Shery was kidnapped on her way to the market, if Riel was threatened or if Chase intervened at the wrong moment..." <<page_break "Next" "bladeangstcontinue">>

He shuts his eyes, and all at once you see how tired and pale he looks, how haggard in the warm golden light of the greenhouse, how dark the shadows under his eyes. "I've been troubled by bad dreams before, but this is... different," he says with a sigh. <<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 22>> <br><br> Then he glances at you, running a hand through his hair with something like muted frustration. "Especially when it comes to you. I feel guilty because, by all rights, I shouldn't be spending time with you like this: it's dangerous. I definitely shouldn't be leaving the grounds with you. It isn't <i>safe</i>. And yet I can't keep myself away. My desire to see you somehow trumps my good sense. It feels like a weakness. I've been distracted and worried about you. I'm not sleeping. And I'm concerned I can no longer be an objective leader." His jaw tightens suddenly as the words seem to build up steam. "It's so <i>annoying</i>. You are one of the greatest fighters I know, you don't <i>need</i> my protection, you're a Mage with the powers of a god, and yet when I find myself having to send you into danger... I..." He grits his teeth, his fists clenching. "Or when we're on an assignment together, I should be focused, it's dangerous to let my attention stray, I know this, people could be killed, I've never been anything <i>but</i> focused during battle or in the field, but when it comes to you, I..." He shakes his head rapidly, as if trying to remove water from his ears. "My mind just..." <br><br> Then he seems to forcibly wrench his voice to a halt with a kind of low growl. After a long, taut moment of wrestling himself back under control, he continues tightly: "I'm starting to worry that I'm no longer fit for duty, when I'm like this." <br><br> "Like what?" you prompt, your voice a bit breathless: probably from the way your heart is hammering in your throat. <br><br> Blade runs his hand through his hair again, a strange discontent energy simmering from him, a restless fever. A moment ticks by as he struggles to get himself under control. "My loyalties, my sense of duty, they all feel... torn," he finally admits in a low tone, not quite meeting your gaze. "Like I'm at war with myself." <<else>> He's silent for another moment, then opens his eyes again, looking straight ahead. "How does one gain <i>kith'na'an</i>?" he asks softly, almost as if to no one in particular. "You are one of the greatest fighters I know, you don't <i>need</i> my protection, you're a Mage with the powers of a god, but when it comes to you and the others, I find myself kept awake at night by the worry that something is going to happen. And it will be my fault. And I don't know what to do about it. I would do anything to prevent it, but I'm starting to get the sneaking suspicion that it's not something in my control. And that threatens to drive me mad. I don't know what to <i>do</i>." <</if>><</nobr>> He says it evenly enough, but looking at him, at the tension in his shoulders and the muscle ticking in his jaw, the reality hits you then. Blade has always seemed so unflappable, so impassive, that most people genuinely believe nothing can phase him. But you see now how the restless energy you noticed in him earlier, that strange intensity, must have been bordering on explosive to drive him to actively need to get out of the compound like this. His normal self-restraint has been worn down. His thoughts are scattered. His emotions are torn. He's in actual distress, and he can't keep it clamped down any longer: it's all come spilling out. He's <i>afraid.</i> <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $blade gte 75>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Hug him. "It's going to be okay, Blade."</div>' 'autogenerated_67941'>><<setblade +3>><<setcompassionate +3>><<setloyal +1>><</link>><</if>> <<if $bladeromanceflag gte 22 and $attractedto is not "women" and $courage gte 40>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Step forward and take his face into your hands. "Hey. We'll get through this together."</div>' 'autogenerated_67942'>><<set $bladeromanceflag += 5>><<setblade +3>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You can't go on like this forever. It's killing you. So we need to put our heads together and figure out how to solve this Gladius problem once and for all."</div>' 'autogenerated_67943'>><<setloyal +3>><<setblade +2>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"There's an old famous mercenary saying, too. 'The fear has got you by the throat. Only way to loosen its grip is to punch it back.'"</div>' 'autogenerated_67944'>><<setcourage +3>><<setblade +1>><<setstrength +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Look, I know you don't intend it, but it is condescending. I can take care of myself. So can the others. We don't need your protection."</div>' 'autogenerated_67945'>><<setblade -10>><<setcharisma -5>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setloyal -5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I think you already know the answer to your problem. <i>Kith'na'an</i>. You're going to have to trust us."</div>' 'autogenerated_67946'>><<setloyal +2>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 22 and $attractedto is not "women" and $gender is "female">><<set $bladeromanceflag += 3>>You hear Blade's intake of startled breath as you step forward and wrap your arms around his tall, lean frame, all hard angles and rangy muscle. But after a stiff, frozen moment, he hesitantly relaxes; his cheek comes to rest against the crown of your hair, and you feel his arms slowly lift to settle around you. The effect is startling. You seem to fit together perfectly. His shirt smells of sandalwood and cold wind. After another moment, his grip tightens around you with more surety, almost possessively. <br><br> You close your eyes against the wave of emotion you feel in that moment: affection and tenderness, sorrow and longing in turns. Blade's heart is a hard drum beneath your cheek. "It's going to be okay," you tell him again. <br><br> Blade seems reluctant to move. "How do you know?" he asks quietly, his voice a deep rumble beneath your ear. <br><br> "I just... do. That's the kind of trust you're talking about, right? <i>Kith'na'an</i>. Faith. That's all we can keep going on, right?" Conscious of embracing in a public path—though at the moment you're sheltered by the shadowy leaves and fronds of this particular niche—you lean back to gaze into his face. "I can't tell you not to worry: that won't help, not exactly. But you've just got to believe that it's going to be okay. That it'll be worth it, no matter what happens." <br><br> Blade looks back at you, unhappy but considering. Absently, his hand reaches up to brush away a lock of your hair. "You don't face these fears?" <<else>> It's like trying to hug a plank or a marble statue, at first, Blade tense and frozen and startled in your arms as you step forward to wrap your arms around him; it's obvious he's not used to this kind of physical contact. But slowly he relaxes, and you feel his heart settle into a steadier rhythm. After a few moments, he even awkwardly pats your back. <br><br> "It's going to be okay," you tell him, soothing. <br><br> "Thank you," Blade tells you, supremely stilted and inelegant and unpracticed, but with surprising feeling. He looks at you as you step back. "Do you not face these same fears?"<</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'bladesfears'>>

You catch Blade's intake of startled breath as you step forward and take his face between your hands, tracing the sharp angles, the tired lines under his eyes. For the briefest instant he's tense, frozen at the unexpected contact—and then he melts into your touch, his shoulders suddenly loosening with unguarded relief. His hands come up to clasp your wrists, both an affectionate gesture as well as a silent compulsion to keep you where you are. He closes his eyes, and seeing him like that almost breaks your heart. Blade, ever vigilant, ever alert, closing his eyes at your touch. Resting, for just a moment, with you. You have to swallow through a wave of affection, and tenderness, and sorrow and longing. You feel a powerful urge to lean up and kiss his face. When he opens his eyes again, he's staring back at you, and the intensity and hunger in his face is striking. Your heart catches in your chest. <i>But you can't,</i> something in your head whispers, <i>he's Commander and <<nobr>><<if $rank is "Commander">>you're Commander <</if>><</nobr>> and it's forbidden and a bad idea and dangerous and...</i> You draw a shaky breath, reluctant to pull away, but you repeat: "You don't have to go through this alone anymore. We'll get through it together." Blade stares back at you, looking pained and happy and unhappy. He swallows thickly; his eyes flicker down to your lips, then back to your eyes. There's a taut, breathless moment, a kind of fizzing under your skin and in the air between you like the tensile electricity preluding a storm. Blade's hands tighten briefly on your wrists, then forcibly relax. You can't stop staring at each other. "Do you not face these fears?" he asks in a low voice. <<include 'bladesfears'>>

Blade gives you a tired smile. "I want to believe that," he says in a low voice. "But it's also part of the nightmare. Getting everyone involved. More than you already are." He sighs. "And I've racked my brain, trying to figure out a solution to all of this. I don't want to kill my brother or my kinsmen if I can help it. I don't want to jeopardize any of your lives. We certainly can't take an army of Shepherds to storm Ygrath. But the rebellion will never stop. Nothing I say will convince them that I'm not a traitor. I did turn against them to serve the Autarch. Leaving me alive is a constant threat to their existence. That's just a fact." "We could mount up such a resistance that they'll be forced to give up," you retort. "We can drive them off in other ways that doesn't involve killing them." Blade is silent at that. "Perhaps." But he still doesn't seem quite comfortable with this idea. Then he pauses, looking at you gravely. "Do you not face these same kinds of fears?" <<include 'bladesfears'>>

Blade half-laughs, a little incredulously. "And what would that entail?" "Confronting Gladius? Launching an offense against him instead of sitting around waiting for his people to finish you off? Getting everyone together and putting an end to the threat once and for all?" Suddenly Blade isn't laughing much anymore. "And if I don't want to kill him or my kinsmen?" he asks quietly. "Or jeopardize any of your lives? Because lives would certainly be lost in such a conflict, <<c firstname>>. We can't take an army of Shepherds to storm Ygrath. And 'confronting' my brother will do nothing. It's not as if I'm actually innocent, and all we need to do is convince him of that. I <i>did</i> turn against them to serve the Autarch. Nothing I say will convince them that I'm not a traitor—because I am. And leaving me alive is a constant threat to their existence. That's just a fact." "Then you might just have to live with the fear," you tell him simply. "If you're not willing to address its cause head-on." Blade sighs, but he doesn't argue with you. After a moment he looks at you and asks, "Do you not face these same fears?" <<include 'bladesfears'>>

<<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 20>><<set $bladeromanceflag -= 7>><</if>><</nobr>>Blade's gaze deadens, but he doesn't argue with your statement; he merely bows his head in silent assent. "I know you don't," he says, suddenly sounding immeasurably weary. Then he looks at you and asks, "Do you not face these same fears?" <<include 'bladesfears'>>

Blade's lips twitch; he looks droll for a moment, as if to say, <i>Gee, I hadn't thought of that</i>. "I know," he says, blowing out a long, exhaling sigh. "But it's... difficult, to say the least." Then he glances at you. "Do you not face these same fears?" <<include 'bladesfears'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Of course I do. I'm fucking terrified all the time."</div>' 'autogenerated_67947'>><<setcompassionate +3>><<setblade +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Yes, I do. But I don't let the fear rule me."</div>' 'autogenerated_67948'>><<setblade +3>><<setcourage +1>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"No, not really. We're soldiers. We know what we signed up for."</div>' 'autogenerated_67949'>><<setloyal +5>><<setcourage +3>><<set $bladeharden -= 2>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Not at all. Fear's a waste of time. I'm not afraid of anything."</div>' 'autogenerated_67950'>><<setcourage +5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"No, the thought of my friends dying doesn't scare me at all." <b>[LIE]</b></div>' 'autogenerated_67951'>><<setcunning +5>><<setblade -5>><<setloyal -5>><<setcompassionate -1>><<set $bladeharden -= 1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

How could you not be? The Shepherds have become your home, your new family. You live in constant petrifying terror that you're going to lose it all, through circumstance or your own folly, that they'll be cruelly ripped away from you, just as your village was, that you'll lose them through war and flame and a mission gone wrong or a disastrous choice made... Blade sees the look on your face and instinctively clasps your shoulder, an unspoken understanding running between the two of you. After a moment, he says, his voice filled with renewed determination and quiet ferocity: "I won't let it happen, <<c firstname>>." You smile to yourself, remembering the first time you spent a day off with him. His vow of <i>mythas</i>. "We both won't." <<include 'asteponthepebbles'>>

Blade looks at you, serious and pensive. "How?" You look back at him, remembering the first time you spent a day off with him. His vow of <i>mythas</i>. "Faith." <<include 'asteponthepebbles'>>

Blade looks at you for a long moment, his eyes assessing, penetrating. Then he nods once, his chin lifting, and steps away. <<include 'asteponthepebbles'>>

Blade looks at you for a long moment, his eyes assessing, penetrating. Then he shakes his head with a quiet laugh. "I believe you. You truly are one of a kind, <<c firstname>>." <<include 'asteponthepebbles'>>

Blade looks at you for a long moment, his eyes assessing, penetrating. But what he makes of this—and whether he truly believes you or not—he doesn't say. <<include 'asteponthepebbles'>>

A step on the garden path behind you makes you pause; a pair of tittering Norm women in their thirties, their arms intertwined and improbable parasols dangling in their gloved hands, hustle past you, their skirts resembling the dangling glowbells as they sail down the path. The two of you don't speak much as you wrap up your visit to the botanical gardens, other than an absent-minded comment or observation here and there. By the time you wend your way out of the last greenhouse, you're both still deep in thought. But Blade's tension, at least, has eased a little; being able to tell you what's truly weighing on him, as well as pondering over what you've said, seems to have helped. <<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 22>> But his gaze jumps over to you when he hears you hiss in surprise upon exiting the gardens; leaving the protection of whatever magic was governing it feels like jumping out of a warm bath and into a wall of ice-cold, freezing seawater. The effect actually slams into you as the wintry wind howls with renewed fury. Your muscles seize; your face immediately burns with cold. <br><br> Wordlessly, efficiently, effortlessly, Blade steps over to you and draws you along the outer wall of the garden. Before you realize it, his hands are closing, very gently, over your ears, cupping your head as he shelters your ears from the frigid wind. His hands have a surprising warmth. The look on his face is patient and fond, but also with that practical, perfunctory, almost bossy thoughtlessness he assumed with you back in the Reach. "It will help you acclimate faster," he explains. <<nobr>><<if $heritage is "Elf">>Then, after a pause: "I'm also told your ears are more sensitive to the cold."<</if>><</nobr>> <<include "almostbladekiss">> <<else>> <br><br> You leave the gardens, wincing at the sudden slam of cold that accompanies your exit; it feels like jumping out of a warm bath and into a wall of ice-cold, freezing seawater. Your ears actually ring with the cold. <<include "afteramomentbladestirs">> <</if>><</nobr>>

You swallow, looking up at him. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Pull away.</div>' 'autogenerated_67952'>><<setblade -10>><<set $bladeromanceflag to 0>><<set $bladeharden -= 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Thank him.</div>' 'autogenerated_67953'>><<setblade +2>><<set $bladeromanceflag += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Lean closer.</div>' 'autogenerated_67954'>><<set $bladeromanceflag += 5>><<setblade +5>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

You don't want this. You move back a little, wordlessly signaling your desire for space. Blade's hands drop from your face as if they'd suddenly turned numb. For a moment his face is rigid with surprise; then it goes blank and remote, as if you were a complete stranger to him. "I apologize," he says formally, taking a few steps back from you. Then he turns his back and says over his shoulder, "We should head back. It's too open out here." "Right," you say, attempting to keep your tone normal. Neither of you speak until you're safe within the Shepherd walls again. <<include 'bladeover'>>

“Thank you,” you murmur, not knowing quite what else to say. Your face feels hot and pleasant. You've all but forgotten about the harsh and whipping wind. Blade says nothing to your thanks—only shakes his head wordlessly. But his face has changed, a little, softened almost imperceptibly. You watch him trace your features with his eyes. Then he takes a quick breath and releases you, stepping formally back as you bring your hands to your burning cheeks. He must have used arma in his hands, or something, because you <i>do</i> feel better. For a little while, neither of you speaks as you walk on, which suits you just fine: you're trying to tame the clamoring of your heart in your throat. <<include 'afteramomentbladestirs'>>

You stand on your tiptoes and move just a little closer to Blade. He pauses, goes very still, but he can't seem to resist the pull between you, either. His eyes go as half-lidded and intent as a hunter's, his attention on you sharpening to a knife-point. His hands are still cupping your ears, but you feel his thumb brush your cheek—then your lips. You're conscious of the way your warm hair is covering the back of his hand; of the way he unconsciously, almost lazily twines his fingers through it. His face draws near enough for you to feel the warmth of his mouth without actually touching it. Wordlessly, his lips linger over yours, and you can't tell if he's hesitating or teasing you… A rude voice calls out, splashing cold throughout your body even more effectively than the wind. "Move along!" You both whip around to see one of the guards patrolling the entrance to the gardens looking over at you with a nasty sneer. He clearly thought you were two paramours clinched in the sheltering lee of the wall, though his smirk drops a little when he notes that you're not the typical Sun Court debutantes. The look on Blade's face is rigid and downright murderous; you don't think he's ever looked at anyone with such black, searing hatred before. Your ears now burning, you scuttle away together, Blade's hand unconsciously closed around yours. It's only when you're out of sight of the garden that he seems to remember yourself and loosens his grip, almost apologetically. For a little while, neither of you speaks, which suits you just fine: you're trying to tame the clamoring of your heart in your throat. <<include 'afteramomentbladestirs'>>

After a moment, Blade stirs. "Thank you," he says, not quite looking at you. "For what you said back there. It... helps." You've been thinking about this. "Blade..." When he looks at you back over his shoulder, you say: <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You can't do this all alone. That's why you're in so much turmoil. You still think you have to deal with it all yourself. But you just don't. Let us help you."</div>' 'autogenerated_67955'>><<setblade +1>><<setloyal +5>><<set $bladeharden += 1>><</link>> <<if $charisma gte 50 and $blade gte 75 and $loyal gte 75>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I understand why you're torn, why your mind and heart feel divided. But we're your family now. The Shepherds are your city-state. Your cause. That <i>qul</i> that marks you doesn't apply anymore. Your allegiance is to us now. And we need you to fight for us."</div>' 'autogenerated_67956'>><<set $bladeharden += 3>><<setloyal +3>><<setcharisma +2>><<setblade +5>><<setcompassionate +3>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"The reason why you're afraid is because you care. Don't run away from that. Embrace it. It's the only way you'll win against them. Otherwise their resolve will always win out against yours."</div>' 'autogenerated_67957'>><<set $bladeharden += 2>><<setloyal +1>><<setcompassionate +5>><<setcourage +1>><<setblade +3>><<setintelligence +1>><<setcunning +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You need to learn to quench your fear. It's running you ragged, making you irrational. You need to snap out of it and be the leader you're meant to be."</div>' 'autogenerated_67958'>><<setcompassionate -4>><<setcourage +5>><<setcunning +3>><<set $bladeharden -= 3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You can't straddle two worlds forever. Sooner or later, this thing will Gladius is going to come to a head. I just don't want there to be collateral damage because you put it off for too long."</div>' 'autogenerated_67959'>><<setblade -3>><<set $bladeromanceflag -= 3>><<set $bladeharden -= 1>><<setcunning +5>><<setloyal -1>><</link>> <<if $bladeromanceflag gte 22>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I don't want to be a distraction to you. Or a cause of any distress."</div>' 'autogenerated_67960'>><<set $bladeromanceflag -= 1>><</link>><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

Blade twitches at that, as if he still wants to resist it, can't get quite comfortable with it. But after another moment, he relents with a long breath. "You're right, <<c firstname>>," he says quietly, dropping his eyes. "I think you're right." He meets your gaze and smiles slightly. "Thank you." <<include 'awarmdrinkwithblade'>>

Blade straightens at that, a little of his characteristic steel entering his posture again. For a moment, he doesn't seem to know what to say. Then he ducks his head to you, a Ket bow of respect. "Thank you, <<c firstname>>." That's all he says, but there's something altered in his tone, a catch of some emotion that you can't name. His face, when he looks at you again, seems utterly changed, though you can't exactly pinpoint how. His eyes are different; there's a deep and unshakeable resolve in them, something both harder and more open, that momentarily steals your breath. <<include 'awarmdrinkwithblade'>>

Blade straightens at that, a little of his characteristic steel entering his posture again. For a moment, he doesn't seem to know what to say. Then he ducks his head to you, a Ket bow of respect. "Thank you, <<c firstname>>." That's all he says, but there's a deep and unshakeable resolve in his tone now. His face, when he looks at you again, seems utterly changed, though you can't exactly pinpoint how. It seems both harder and more open. <<include 'awarmdrinkwithblade'>>

Blade straightens, a little of his characteristic steel entering his posture again. His dark eyes are cool and unreadable. He nods his head, in agreement or in thanks. "You're right." He looks at you, and when he speaks again, his tone is measured and furled tight. "Thank you, <<c firstname>>. I'll take care of it." You nod, seeing that soldier's bearing in him again. "See that you do." <<include 'awarmdrinkwithblade'>>

Blade looks away at that, his jaw clenching. But he nods after a moment and says, his tone furled tight and unreadable: "Don't worry. I'll take care of it." <<include 'awarmdrinkwithblade'>>

If he's really not sleeping, if he's wondering whether he's fit for command because of you... You don't want to be a liability for him. But you're at a loss over what to do about it, too. For a moment, Blade doesn't seem to know what to say. Then his jaw tightens, and he looks away. "I know, <<c firstname>>," he says, his tone gentle, but somewhat hoarse at the same time—almost ragged, or injured. "Don't worry. I'll take care of it." <<include 'awarmdrinkwithblade'>>

Then the wind scrapes over you again, and the two of you both wince. Blade, catching your eye, smiles a little ironically and tilts his head. "A warm drink?" The conversation turns back to more mundane topics as you both decide to seek out a cheery tavern to hole up in until this weather improves. But as you move again through the crowds, your eyes on Blade's tall, solitary back, you can't keep your mind from straying back to what he said about trust: this question that's been tormenting him since his brother's attack, the thing occupying the forefront of his mind. Trust. Trust not to betray, trust not to die. Trust not to completely rip someone's life apart with your loss. <<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 15 or $blade gte 90 or $compassionate gte 90>>Trust enough to love.<</if>><</nobr>> There has to be a word to convey all of it, you think, a word for that kind of silent understanding, that nameless faith. Blade feels it; maybe you all do. The immensity of the thing that binds you all together. There's a fathomless depth to it that can't be captured or spoken about, only felt. The blinding, unspeakable power of putting your lives, simply and daily, into each other's hands. <<include "bladeover">>

<<if $capradayoff is true>><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "dayoff42">><<set $bladetime += 1>><</link>> <<else>> <<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "dayoff">><<set $bladetime += 1>><</link>> <</if>>

<<nobr>> <<audio ":playing" fadeoverto 5 0>> <<if $brionyhate is true>> Unfortunately, you can't find Briony no matter how hard you look… <br><br> Eventually, you give up. <br><br> <<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "dayoff">><<set $dayoff -= 1>><</link>> <<elseif $brionytime is 0>> <<include "brionyinterlude1">> <<elseif $brionytime is 1>> <<include "brionyinterlude2">> <<else>> [This section is INCOMPLETE. Sorry for the inconvenience, and please check back later!] <br><br> <<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "dayoff">><<set $dayoff -= 1>><</link>> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<setbriony +3>>You find Briony in the field adjoining the cattery, giving combat pointers to a young female recruit you don't recognize. She nods and smiles at you as you approach, but says to the dark-haired recruit, "Now, you don't need raw strength to defeat your opponent. You just need to outmaneuver him. Come at me, and I promise I won't use magic, nor any superstrength—this will be something you can do easily." The timid-looking recruit nods, takes a breath, and then charges Briony. In a blur of motion almost too fast to track, Briony springs to the side, grabs the girl's shirt at her collar and waist, and then easily flips her sideways over her head in a fluid arc. The girl shrieks, but doesn't hit the ground; Briony stops a few inches before impact and lowers her gently down to the grass. "See?" she says cheerfully as the girl gets up, trembling slightly but smiling and nodding. "Easy. You don't have to lift him that high, but it uses his momentum against him—the momentum is the strength, not you—and that'll damn near knock him out." She spends a few more moments giving the the recruit instructions, also showing her a wicked haymaker and a few pressure points to strike. After the recruit leaves, Briony turns to you with a sunny smile. "<<c firstname>>! Sorry about that—she was being bullied, she challenged her bully to a fight to settle things, and she came to me for some tips. I'm pretty sure she's going to knock his teeth out—gods bless her." She comes up to you and interlocks her hands behind her back, stretching until her joints pop. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Did you learn those moves at the arena?"' 'didbriyoulearn'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You\'ve really settled in, huh?"' 'youvebrireallylearned'>><<setbriony +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Got any other hot gossip?"' 'gotbrianyother'>><<setbriony +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Is the bully a Shepherd? Shouldn\'t we write him up?"' 'isbrithebully'>><<setloyal +5>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Nothing more attractive than a woman who can throw others around like bags of flour." <b>[FLIRT]</b>' 'nothingbrimoreattractive'>><<setbriony +3>><<set $brionyromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Briony cocks her head. "Hm? Oh…" A wrinkle appears on her brow. "I… think so? I must have." She shakes her head. "A lot of that stuff's muscle memory, so even if I don't exactly remembering <i>when</i> I learned the technique… yes. It must have been at the arena." She shrugs carelessly. But she continues frowning as she turns away. <<include "shebrileadsyou">>

Briony nods, her eyes sparkling. She truly loves being involved in everybody's business, you've noticed. It's probably because she doesn't remember anything else; she's catching up on lost time, filling her mind with others' stories and everyday doings when she doesn't have much of her own to dwell on. "I really like it here," she says happily. "I like getting to know everyone, helping people… and the fact that we don't have to kill each other is a <i>huge</i> bonus." <<include "shebrileadsyou">>

Briony grins mischievously, a dimple appearing in her left cheek. Her eyes sparkle: she truly loves being involved in everybody's business, you've noticed. It's probably because she doesn't remember anything else; she's catching up on lost time, filling her mind with others' stories and everyday doings when she doesn't have much of her own to dwell on. <<nobr>><<if $cainejoin is true>> "Well, Caine accidentally broke a desk toy's of Riel's, but Chase covered for him and now he has to—I think it's help Riel print lots of documents? You know, with the—the stamps you move around? Stencils! And painting over them with ink. Only it's making a mess everywhere; I know Chase is good with his hands, but I think he's being horrible at it on purpose. I think Riel's going to have a conniption. And Blade—" <<else>> "Well, someone left a love letter for Shery in that mailbox she set up, and no one can figure out who it is! The handwriting doesn't quite match anyone in the Shepherds, and not even Riel can quite figure it out, and he's a genius! It really makes him irritable—he declared the other day that the handwriting is probably an old man's by the slant of it, which upset Shery, but Tallys claims it could be an Elf… it's someone who's lived a long time, anyway. I wonder who it could be…" <</if>><</nobr>> Then she blinks and shakes her head. "Well—never mind that for now. We've got more important things to talk about!" <<include "shebrileadsyou">>

Briony waves an airy hand. "They'll sort it out between themselves. If she'd wanted me to do something about it as an officer, she would've said so. And anyway, it'll look better if she stands up for herself rather than tattling." <<include "shebrileadsyou">>

She grins, though a light blush colors her cheeks as she bumps your shoulder playfully. "Stop! I can't help being strong!" "Why would you want to?" you ask slyly. "I just said it's attractive." She turns away, smiling widely to herself. "Flirt." <<include "shebrileadsyou">>

She leads you over to the shade of a tree near the cattery, where you can hear—and smell—the animals being exercised by their handlers, yowling occasionally in protest. Briony collapses on her back onto the grass with a loud sigh of relief. "Stars above! All of that training really takes a lot of you. Especially when you can't use your powers. I don't have arma, exactly, but when I'm actively trying to do things the normal way—gods, it's much harder!" Then she turns to you eagerly. "So: what did you want to talk about? Just coming by to say hello?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Just wanted to catch up with you, see how things are going."' 'brionybrgrinsaw'>><<setbriony +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I like spending time with you, so that\'s what I\'m doing."' 'brionybrgrinsaw'>><<setbriony +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I was bored, so I wandered by."' 'brionybrgrinsaw'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Briony grins. "Aw, how sweet of you!" Then she sobers and observes you for a moment. "Actually, I've been meaning to ask… are you doing okay? After… Jarkyth, and everything? I've been so busy since joining the Order that we've hardly gotten a chance to talk. But… <i>are</i> you okay? Heth Macoll was rough, I know." <ul class="choices"> <<if $jarkythdead is true>><li><<link '"I\'m doing great. Especially since I know that bastard is dead."' 'imbridoinggreat'>><<setcompassionate -3>><<setbriony +1>><</link>></li><</if>> <<if $jarkythdead is false>><li><<link '"I\'m doing great. Honestly."' 'imbridoinghonestlygreat'>><<setbriony +1>><</link>></li><</if>> <li><<link 'Look away. "I\'m... fine."' 'lookbriawayim'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Sigh. "I\'m not doing great, but I guess that\'s pretty normal."' 'sighbriimnot'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Shake your head abruptly and look at your feet. You\'re still struggling with what happened and how it affected you, but you don\'t know exactly how to say it.' 'shakebriyourhead'>><<set $traumatized += 1>><</link>></li> </ul>

She matches your smile with a vicious, sharp grin of her own, her eyes suddenly kindling with a colder light. "I'm glad to hear it. May that <i>kisich</i> burn in Hael forever." <<include "brionyhipre">>

Briony smiles. "Good. I'm happy to hear that. You deserve it, really, after everything you've done for everyone." <<include "brionyhipre">>

An awkward silence hangs over you for a moment before Briony reaches out to pat your shoulder. She doesn't say anything, but you know what she means, anyway. <<include "brionyhipre">>

Briony's smile vanishes. "I'm… sorry to hear that. Is there anything I can do?" You shrug. "Not much anyone can do, really." An awkward silence hangs over you for a moment before Briony reaches out to pat your shoulder. She doesn't say anything, but you know what she means, anyway. <i>I'm here for you</i>. It is at least somewhat comforting. <<include "brionyhipre">>

An awkward silence hangs over you for a moment before Briony reaches out and pulls you into a tight hug. "I'm sorry," she murmurs into your ear. "I wish there was something I could do to help. But—I'm here for you, if that helps." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Shove her away. "Don\'t touch me."' 'shovebriheraway'>><<set $briony to 10>><<set $brionyromanceflag to 0>><<setcompassionate -10>><<setloyal -10>><<set $brionynotouch to true>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Hug her back. "Thanks."' 'hugbriherback'>><<setbriony +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Stay stiff and silent.' 'staybristiffandsilent'>><<setbriony -10>><<set $brionyromanceflag -= 5>><</link>></li> </ul>

Briony's face pales in shock. "I'm—I'm sorry," she mumbles, scrambling back from you. Her eyes look guiltily away from yours. "I—I didn't realize…" "Well, now you know," you snap, brushing your sleeves. "I don't want your <i>comfort</i>. It doesn't help. In fact, it does the opposite." Briony's shoulders hunch. "I understand," she says in a subdued voice. "I… I'm sorry. I didn't intend to make you uncomfortable. I won't do it again." After a long, awkward silence, you decide it's time for a change in subject. <<include "brionyhipre">>

She pulls back and smiles into your face. "I mean it, <<c firstname>>. Anything you need, I'm here." You untangle yourselves eventually and look away from each other. It's time for a change in subject. <<include "brionyhipre">>

After an awkward moment, Briony pulls back, mumbling an embarrassed apology. An unbearable silence falls over you both before you decide it's time for a change in subject. <<include "brionyhipre">>

<<set $gladiatorask to false>><<include "brionyhi">>

<ul class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("howsbrinathe")>><<ask '"How\'s Nathe?"' 'howsbrinathe'>><</if>> <<if $gladiatorjoin is true and $gladiatorask is false>><<link '<div class="question-item">"How are the other gladiators doing?"</div>' 'howbriareothergladiators'>><<set $gladiatorask to true>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("sobrihowdoesamnesia")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"So how does your amnesia really work, anyway?"</div>' 'sobrihowdoesamnesia'>><<set $brionyharden += 1>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("whatbriarehobbies")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"What are your hobbies and interests?"</div>' 'whatbriarehobbies'>><<setbriony +3>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("whatbriyourstrengths")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"What are your strengths and weaknesses?"</div>' 'whatbriyourstrengths'>><<if $briony lt 50>><<setbriony -1>><</if>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("sobriwheresgonturan")>><<ask '"So where\'s Gonturan?"' 'sobriwheresgonturan'>><</if>> <li><<link 'You continue to talk, stretching out under the shade of the tree and watching the ahfuri together.' 'brionytalkover1'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Briony's look brightens. "Oh, he's great!" she gushes. "He finally found his husband and their son: thankfully, they stayed put, right in the forest where they first lost him. His husband tried to go looking, but he had no idea where to start, and he was afraid that if Nathe ever came back, they would miss each other and just spend their whole lives wandering around the Continent… Anyway, they're reunited! He sent me a letter as soon as he could—he says he's going to try and visit after he recovers his strength! Did you know he got attacked by wolves? Wait, you couldn't know that, not unless he sent you a letter too… No? Anyway, it was strange, because typically Elves can just tell wolves to piss off, but these ones didn't listen for some reason—they were too hungry, or frightened, or something. He's fine, but it was just strange. Anyway, he says hello, and that he may come to Haven with his family next summer…" She talks on and on without losing breath before you finally realize she's done talking about Nathe. <<include "brionyhi">>

Briony smiles. "Very well," she says happily. "I don't see Mountain Jackal as much, but he's thick as thieves with—well, Chase's thieves and the reconnaissance squads. He acts like a cranky bastard, but I've honestly never seen him so happy. He's from the Sesz Isles, you see. He came over to the Continent to make his fortune as a mercenary: I don't think he has any family back in the isles, and he seems like he's not going anywhere now that he's here. And Staghead—have you heard? He's racking up demon kills like his life depends on it. Sorry, bad joke—but I was a gladiator too, so I suppose I can make it. I even heard the crack under his door is <i>stuffed</i> with love letters. People can't resist a big man with that much muscle, I suppose." She smiles fondly. <<nobr>><<if $thummasaved is true>> "Even Thumma's finding her place as a weapon specialist here. She's been opening up a lot to Neon: Red's friend? And Riel's helping her put out some feelers to find her sister!" <</if>><</nobr>> <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I\'m glad everyone\'s getting along."' 'imbrigladeveryones'>><<setbriony +1>><<setcompassionate +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"So long as they\'re not wasting resources."' 'sobrilongastheyre'>><<setbriony -3>><<setcompassionate -8>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Speaking of the other gladiators... did you ever...?"' 'speakingbriofothergladiators'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I bet they\'re running poor Blade thin."' 'ibribettheyre'>><<setblade +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I bet they\'re running poor Trouble thin."' 'ibribettrouble'>><<settrouble +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I bet they\'re running poor Tallys thin."' 'ibribettallys'>><<settallys +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I bet they\'re running poor Shery thin."' 'ibribetshery'>><<setshery +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Briony beams. "I am, too," she says. "I thought it would be hard for everyone to adjust—we're so used to fighting each other, after all, to not really trusting anybody, and especially to resenting authority—but this transition has been smoother than I could have ever dreamed. We have a home here, a purpose. I don't remember much of my old life, but I think this is as happy as I've ever been." <<nobr>><<if $briony gte 65>> Then she smiles and nudges you. "And it's all thanks to you. So… thanks!" She beams at you, her smile radiant. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "brionyhi">>

Briony frowns, but doesn't comment on your veiled warning. <<include "brionyhi">>

Briony blinks rapidly for a moment, looking dumbfounded, before she breaks into a peal of laughter. "<i>Gods</i>, no!" she says between giggles, clutching her sides helplessly. "I—ah—Staghead is like a brother to me—or a cousin? A big, dumb cousin. And Mountain Jackal is like my weird, cranky… uncle? I don't actually know how old he is—it's hard to tell, isn't it?—but there it is." She calms down slightly, smiling and wiping her eyes. "The gladiators were all like family in the arena. Us against the slavers like Tovrik. Until we had to fight each other in bouts, that is. But we never really wanted to—we were each other's only friends in that place. I'd never dream of complicating anything like that with romance." "Is that how it's going to be with the Shepherds?" you ask. Briony hums in thought, smiling to herself. "We'll see!" Then she grins at you mischievously. "Why are you so curious, anyway?" she asks, her expression playful and sly. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Uh... no reason?"' 'uhbrinoreason'>><<if $brionyromanceflag gte 2>><<set $brionyromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I have to know if you\'re going to be competing with me for someone else\'s affections!"' 'ibrihavetoknow'>><<set $brionyromanceflag -= 3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Gotta make sure no one steals you away before me."' 'gottabrimakesure'>><<set $brionyromanceflag += 1>><<setbriony +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"We\'re friends! I want to know if you like anybody here."' 'werebrifriendsiwant'>><<set $brionyromanceflag -= 3>><<setbriony +3>><</link>></li> </ul>

"Hmmm, all right," Briony says in a singsong way. "Whatever you say…" But she clearly doesn't fully believe you. <<include "brionyhi">>

Briony laughs and nudges you. "Well, I'll give you the heads up if I ever think we'll be in conflict! But you're <i>you</i>, and my best feature is that I can break someone's neck with my thighs, so I think it'll be in your favor every time!" <<include "brionyhi">>

Briony gives you the biggest, most luminous smile, breezy as anything—except for the light flush in her cheeks. "You are shameless! Well… I'll be sure to keep that in mind." Then she looks away, blushing happily. <<include "brionyhi">>

Briony beams and then throws her arms around yours, leaning into your shoulder. "You are so sweet, <<c firstname>>! Well, I'll be sure to keep you apprised of any fresh developments!" Then she leans back and shakes her finger playfully in your direction. "And you, too, you know. No secrets between us!" <<include "brionyhi">>

Briony grins. "Maybe. He's wound very tightly, our Commander. But at least he has a lot of help—and I do my best to keep him, you know, patient." <<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 15>> Then she winks at you. <<elseif $blade gte 75>> Then she nudges you. <</if>> <<if $bladeromanceflag gte 15 or $blade gte 75>> "I'll be sure to tell him you were concerned, though." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "brionyhi">>

Briony laughs. "Not really—he's having a grand old time drinking with some of them off-duty, and he has lots of arm-wrestling matches with Staghead. If you can believe it, he wins most of the time! Chase says it's because he tickles, but I never see it." She shakes her head. "It's interesting: it's like the Vice-Commander doesn't have to do anything unless something happens to the Commander. Until then, he's pretty much any other Shepherd. If anything, it's <i>Riel</i> who's taken up the position you'd think of, when you think of a second-in-command." Then she shrugs and smiles carelessly at you. "So you see—everybody's happy." <<include "brionyhi">>

Briony grins. "Why would they? Sure, she's Third-in-Command, and they add a… <i>chaotic </i>element to the compound, but she doesn't really have to deal with any of it." She sighs. "I think it'd be quite nice to be Third. Less of the responsibility, all of the authority… you don't really have to do much unless, you know, something happens to Blade and Trouble, and with how good those two are at fighting, it's very unlikely." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Should I tell Tallys you\'re gunning for her job?"' 'shouldbriitell'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Those two aren\'t that good at fighting."' 'thosebrtwoarent'>><<setbriony -3>><<setcourage +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"With how reckless they both are, it\'s likelier than you think..."' 'withbrihowreckless'>><<setbriony +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

The color drains from Briony's face for a moment before she shakes her head vigorously, her ponytail flying. "Oh, <i>no</i>, I'm not—please don't tell her that." "Why not?" you joke. Briony looks embarrassed. "I'd be afraid she'd take it the wrong way!" Then she smacks your shoulder. "And anyway, I <i>don't</i> want her job. I'm not sure I want to order people around much, at least not outside of my squad." "Why not?" you ask her. "You seemed to have been comfortable leading the rebellion in Heth Macoll. The other gladiators clearly looked you to as their leader." Briony is thoughtful for a moment. "I'm not sure why, but I just—I'd be reluctant to do it. In Heth Macoll, it <i>had</i> to be someone, and I just happened to be the person who stepped up and filled the role. But I never really had to worry about making the wrong decisions, having everyone's life count on me. We all knew the risks of what we were doing, and if I'd gotten someone killed, it was something that was going to happen to us eventually, anyway. But the Shepherds are different. I'd be too afraid of… hurting people's feelings, or making bad calls. It'd be too much pressure." She shakes her head. "No, Tallys can keep the job. I'm happy right where I am." <<include "brionyhi">>

Briony snorts. "Are you joking? Even I can't best Blade—not all the time, anyway; and Trouble has that sort of uncanny ability to shoot things, even <i>blindfolded</i>. If you don't think they're any good, what must you think of me?" She quirks her brow at you. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"You\'re a different story. Neither of them have your superstrength or fighting magic."' 'yourebriadifferent'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You\'re right, I was just joking."' 'yourebrirightiwas'>><<setbriony +1>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You\'re too reckless, too chaotic and impulsive. You swing your fists around, but there\'s not a lot of finesse or strategy to your moves."' 'yourebritooreckless'>><<setbriony -3>><<setcharisma -3>><<setcourage +3>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setstrength +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Let the meaningful silence speak for itself.' 'letbrithemeaningful'>><<setcunning +3>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setcourage -3>><<setcharisma -3>><<setbriony -10>><</link>></li> </ul>

Briony laughs, a tad awkwardly. "That's kind, but patently untrue. If either of those two—or Hael, Chase or Ayla or one of the others—had been in the arena, I don't know if I'd been able to make champion. But I'm glad to hear you hold me in such high regard." <<nobr>><<if $brionyromanceflag gte 7>> <br><br> Then she leans her head against your shoulder and smiles—flirtatiously, if you're not imagining things. "I can always give you pointers, if you'd like." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Stare back intently. "I\'d like that." <b>[FLIRT]</b>' 'starebribackintently'>><<set $brionyromanceflag += 3>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Nudge her. "What, like grappling? Full contact wrestling? You gonna pin me to the ground?"' 'nudgebriherwhat'>><<setbriony +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Pull away. "Uh... I\'m good."' 'pullbriawayuh'>><<set $brionyromanceflag to 0>><</link>></li> </ul> <<else>> <<include "brionyhi">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Briony pulls away suddenly, her laugh high and a bit nervous. "I'll make room in my schedule," she says, her cheeks pink as she looks away and tucks a strand of pink hair behind her ear. <<include "brionyhi">>

Briony bursts out laughing and pushes your shoulder. "Yeah," she says merrily. "It's a whole lesson plan." She laughs so much you can tell she doesn't take any of this seriously. <<include "brionyhi">>

She bursts out laughing, full of mirth. "Sorry," she says, wiping at the corner of her eye. "I've been wondering what it's like, being as shameless as Chase, so I've been trying it out—but I shouldn't have teased you. I'm just joking around!" You nod. "Oh… good." She smiles at you sweetly, and the conversation moves naturally to other things. <<include "brionyhi">>

Briony smiles at you. "I knew it!" <<include "brionyhi">>

Briony blinks, then forces out an awkward, slightly unsure laugh. "Wow! All right, then. Well, at least you're honest. Maybe we can match up in the practice field again and see if any of that is true." She smiles at you, but her gaze is a bit more remote, and her chin subtly takes on a stubborn, defiant set to it. An awkward silence falls over both of you you. <<include "brionyhi">>

Briony laughs quietly and looks away, letting the silence turn awkward. <<include "brionyhi">>

Briony bursts out laughing. "That is true. Trouble charges headlong into danger—not that I can really talk, we usually get in trouble for the same things. And Blade—while he's more logical and strategic—he's always putting himself on the frontlines. Even though he's Commander, and his life is precious. I don't know if he's extremely confident or…" She trails off and shakes her head. "Well, never mind." <<include "brionyhi">>

Briony grins. "Maye a little. We're all used to packing away our food—that was one thing the arena never skimped on, to keep us in fighting shape—and I know some gladiators want to start decorating their rooms the way we would if we won a lot of bouts. Poor Shery's running herself ragged, but I told them to give her a break. She's too sweet to tell them no herself." <<nobr>><<if $shery gte 70 or $sheryromanceflag gte 10>> Then she stops and smiles at you slyly. "I'll tell her you were concerned, though. She'll be really happy to hear it." <<if $sheryromanceflag gte 10>> There's a hint of mischief to her tone that you can't quite discern… <</if>> <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "brionyhi">>

Briony cocks her head at you. "What do you mean?" You shrug. "Well, you clearly remember some things. You remember how to read and write. You remember your name. You remember how to fight, how to use magic. Your abilities aren't that of a baby's, so clearly you retained some memory, even if it's just muscle memory. Do you remember anything else?" Briony frowns, staring into the middle distance for a moment. "Sometimes it's… impressions," she admits. "I'll be walking somewhere and there'll be a smell—a certain way I stepped—and I feel as if something flashed inside my head. It's like that feeling of dreaming that you met somebody, and in the dream they feel very familiar to you, as if you've known them all your life… but then when you wake up, you can't quite remember them anymore, maybe just a faint feeling of recognition, an impression that you met them… but you don't remember any of the details. And as the day goes on, you forget more and more, until you forget you even had the dream at all." She stops for a moment, then continues. "It's like that. And the more I try to concentrate on it, the more I try to actually remember, the more it slips away from me. It's only when I'm not really thinking of it that sometimes I get those flashes. But that's all they are. Flashes." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "sobrihowdoesamnesiai">><</link>></center>

She turns to you, and her violent eyes—usually so frank and readable—are suddenly shuttered, inexpressive. "Riel thinks I hit my head, but the Healers can't find anything wrong with my brain. Maybe there was an injury and it's already healed, but the parts that held the memories… lost them? And Red thinks it might be a curse, but he couldn't find anything, either. Though of course everyone's senses have their limits. You can't perceive a mountain right in front of you if you're only the size of an ant." She lapses into silence. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I\'m sorry."' 'imbrisorry'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Well, you don\'t need your old memories. You are who you are now, and I like you just as yourself."' 'wellbriyoudont'>><<setbriony +3>><<set $brionyromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"That\'s rough, buddy."' 'thatsbriroughbuddy'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Have you tried asking Gonturan?"' 'havebriyoutried'>><<setintelligence +3>><<setbriony +1>><</link>></li> <<if $intelligence gte 50 or $charisma gte 50>><li><<link '"Why don\'t you keep a diary?"' 'whybridontyoukeep'>><<setintelligence +3>><<setcharisma +3>><<setbriony +3>><<set $brionyjournal to true>><<set $brionyharden += 1>><</link>></li><</if>> </ul>

Briony gives you a quick smile, though her eyes are downcast. "Thanks. I've gotten used to it, and—I'm happy the way I am, so… there's not too much to be sorry about. It is what it is." <<include "thenbrisheshakes">>

Briony suddenly turns to give you a brilliant smile, and you see that her eyes are shimmering with tears. "Thank you, <<c firstname>>," she whispers. Her hand moves to grip yours briefly, warm and soft. "That means a lot to me. More than I can say. Thank you… so much." Then she lifts her hand to brush at her eyes, and when she turns back to you, her gaze is clear and grateful. <<include "thenbrisheshakes">>

She gives you an odd look, then snorts a laugh. "…Thanks?" <<include "thenbrisheshakes">>

Briony nods slowly. "I have," she says. "I think I said it before, but she's either unwilling or not capable of telling me something that complex. I ask, and it's just sort of… blankness? Mixed in with a little bit of impatience. So I've given up asking." <<include "thenbrisheshakes">>

Briony cocks her head. "What do you mean?" "Well, it's like a dream," you say. "I've heard of people keeping journals, records of their dreams. They wake up and write them down as soon as they can. Even if it's only impressions and fragments. A line or two. Even if you forget again, at least you'll have something. And over time… maybe it will piece things together." Her look brightens. "You really think so? Well—it couldn't hurt to try—that's pretty brilliant, actually! I'm surprised no one else thought of it first!" She punches your shoulder jubilantly, but softly enough so it doesn't hurt. "Thanks for the idea, <<c firstname>>," she says, smiling widely. "I think I'll try that. Even if it doesn't pan out—" Her smiles fades a little. "Well… at least I'll have tried?" <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "thenbrisheshakes">><</link>></center>

Then she shakes her head. "I'm grateful I remember what I do, though. As you say, I've heard of some people forgetting even how to walk, to eat… I know at least those, and all the basic things. I even remembered that the gods existed, although it took me a while to relearn their names. Though curse words, I didn't know… Mountain Jackal called me a <i>sharmooti</i> once, and I thought he was flirting with me." She smiles ruefully. "And I remember how to fight, yes. When I'm thinking about it, I suddenly get nervous, and then I can't really remember it or how it works. But when I'm not thinking, or when I'm in the heat of battle, it's just… instinct. Easy as anything. I can do loads of spells, use my powers. Almost subconsciously. Blade thinks I was almost certainly trained by a swordmaster, and probably an Elvish one at that, though I've got some Ket footwork and techniques mixed in, too—and I didn't learn any of <i>that</i> from the arena. And Red thinks with my natural arsenal of spells, I must have had formal training in Battle Magic. But it's hard to really know where to start, just with those traits. I could have come from anywhere." She smiles again, a bit sadly. <<include "brionyhi">>

Briony hums in thought. "Well, fighting, of course," she says with a sheepish grin. "I like… feeling in control, I suppose. Powerful. Like I know what I'm doing. It's strange, but I can always get that from battle. Ayla thinks I may have been a soldier or merc, before, but there's no real way to tell." She leans back, arching her back and neck in a stretch again. "I also love reading. I've forgotten or missed so much about the world, and it's not like I can just go around learning everything over again in person. But reading… reading lets me do that. It feels like I'm—filling in gaps, the more books I read, and I like the feeling of slowly shoring everything up again." She taps the toes of her boots together. "I also like magic: learning about it, practicing it. You can do so many things with it, and the world would be so different if we could use it again freely! I've been learning—or relearning—a lot from the Circle Mages, and I think they like having an adoring student trailing them around. I'm excellent already at Battle Magic, good at Elementalism and Summoning, decent at Healing and Wild Magic, and not so great at Binding, Scrying, or Enchanting… though I can usually tell when someone's trying to Enchant <i>me</i>. <<nobr>><<if $specialization is "shifter">> And I'm <i>horrible</i> at Shifting. I have no idea how you do it, <<c firstname>>—Pan says it's one of the hardest branches of magic, you have to know how molecules and—and elements and whatnot work. I feel so harebrained doing it myself." <<else>> And I'm <i>horrible</i> at Shifting." <</if>><</nobr>> She thinks on it some more. "I'm finding that I love animals, and baking and cooking, even if Chase says I'm horrid at it, he can be such an ass—and sweet things, not spicy things—and flowers! Tallys was just telling me about flower-arranging; I'd love to try that sometime. I want to fill my whole room up with colors and different blooms." Finally, she stops and smiles ruefully at you. "Sorry; I know it's not very much. I don't know anything about myself, you know? I have to try everything again and decide if I like it or not. But if you ask me in a few months, I'm sure I'll have a wider repertoire." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"That\'s plenty wide already."' 'thatsbriplentywide'>><<setbriony +1>><<setcharisma +1>><<set $brionyromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"That\'s fair."' 'thatsbrifair'>><<set $brionyromanceflag -= 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"That\'s more stuff than I do. I just eat, sleep, train, and kill demons."' 'thatsbrimorestuff'>><<setloyal +3>><<setbriony +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I look forward to asking you again, then."' 'ibrilookforward'>><<setbriony +3>><<set $brionyromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <<if $attractedto is not "men">><li><<link '"You know, there are other things I could help you try and see if you like..." <b>[INNUENDO]</b>' 'youbriknowthereare'>><<set $brionyromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li><</if>> </ul>

She beams happily. "Thanks. That makes me feel—not as simple and sheltered." <<nobr>><<if $brionyromanceflag gte 10>> Then she looks away from you, a light blush coloring her cheeks. "I've got to impress you, after all; you're like the most interesting person in the whole compound. I can't bore you, or…" <br><br> Then she looks back at you, blinks, and seemingly forgets what to say. Her expression looks quite blank for a moment. "Um… sorry. I lost my train of thought." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "afterbriafewmoments">>

Briony nods. "Yup." <<include "afterbriafewmoments">>

Briony laughs happily. "That's a good life! I think that's what half the Order does, and we all get along just fine, don't we?" Then she tilts her head at you. "Is there anything else you like to do, though?" <<include "brionyhobby">>

She beams. "Thanks. That means we'll get to talk more in the future, so—I'm happy." <<include "afterbriafewmoments">>

Briony laughs, her cheeks flushed, before hitting you lightly on the arm. <<nobr>><<if $brionyromanceflag gte 8>> You could swear her hand lingers on your forearm for just the briefest second, the warmth of it almost scalding. Your stomach lurches, a little crazily. Then she pulls away, seemingly a little embarrassed but looking straight into your eyes as she smiles. <</if>><</nobr>> "You're shameless," she breathes. "I can't believe you said that!" "Does that mean you're not interested?" She squirms and covers her face. "Oh, gods!" But she doesn't give you an answer to your question either way. After a few moments, she seems to regain her composure and turns back to you, though she seems a bit nervous and flushed. "And what about you? Is there anything—er—that you like as a pursu—as a hobby?" <<include "brionyhobby">>

After a few moments, she tilts her head at you. "And what about you? Is there anything you like to do in your free time?" <<include "brionyhobby">>

Briony smiles. "Of course. I think we're all workaholics and training fanatics in this Order." <<include "youbritalklong">>

Briony smiles excitedly. "Really? Maybe we could go on a hike sometime. I tend to get hopelessly lost, but at least I've got stamina!" <<include "youbritalklong">>

"Oh!" <<nobr>><<if $brionynotouch is true>> Briony smiles at you. <<else>> Briony touches your hand excitedly. <</if>><</nobr>> "I love riding my ahfuri! That's one I forgot. And horses, too—have you seen the big strapping stallions the handlers just got from Kinley? Supposedly a team of them could pull a building down!" <<include "youbritalklong">>

Briony smiles. "That's nice. You <i>do</i> seem very popular around here—I'm glad you can spend your time off with people you like being around." <<nobr>><<if $briony lt 60>> She smiles at you tentatively. "I hope I can become one of those people." <<else>> She smiles at you, her nose wrinkling playfully. "And I'm glad I'm one of those people." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "youbritalklong">>

Briony's mouth makes a little 'o' of scandalized surprise. "R-really?" she says after a moment. "Er… isn't drinking illegal for Mages?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"So? Everybody does it anyway."' 'sobrieverybodydoes'>><<setcunning +3>><<setcourage +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Fuck the Autarchy. I do what I want. Always have, always will."' 'fuckbriautarchy'>><<setcourage +5>><<setcunning -10>><<setloyal -15>><<setintelligence -3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Yes, but it\'s a stupid rule. I\'ve never lost control."' 'yesbributits'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

<<nobr>><<if $redtime gte 1>> "Even Red," you add. <br><br> <</if>><</nobr>> "I suppose that's true," she says slowly. "I've seen some recruits having fun while in the compound when Blade and Riel and Tallys aren't looking. It never seems to affect them, so… I suppose it's all right?" <<include "youbrineverdrank">>

Briony smiles faintly. "It seems funny to say that when we work directly for them," she says slowly, "but I think a lot of people feel the same way that you do. Well, more power to you." <<include "youbrineverdrank">>

"I… see," Briony says thoughtfully. "Well, if it's never had an adverse effect on you, more power to you, I suppose." <<include "youbrineverdrank">>

"You've never drank?" you ask her then. Briony blinks rapidly. <<nobr>><<if $makeout is true>> "What, you mean aside from Rivercross?" she asks ruefully. <</if>><</nobr>> "There was one time, in the arena. They were serving ale, as a reward for some winning streak we were on. They were supposed to keep it away from the Mages, but they were careless, and—I didn't know! No one told me. I gulped down two flagons, and then I just remember getting very dizzy, sort of giddy. I guess—" She blushes. "Well, <i>apparently</i> my magic went haywire. All of the windows in the place shattered, and things kept catching on fire, and a chandelier detached and chased people around. They took all of the damage straight out of my pay, too!" She sighs. "Ever since then, I haven't touched liquor." "There are some Mages who can handle their alcohol, and some who can't," you state, trying not to laugh. "The law's there for the Mages who can't." "And I'm one of those," Briony sighs again. "Lucky me." "Smoking isn't illegal, though," you offer. Briony nods thoughtfully. "I know. I've been a bit curious about it—Trouble always makes it look so… fashionable. But I think I'd look quite awkward at it. The little stick is so <i>small</i>." <<include "youbritalklong">>

Briony blinks, then laughs. "I only ever saw people gambling when they made bets on gladiators," she says humorously. "Do you gamble in the Golden Way? That's that long alleyway here in Haven, isn't it? You'll have to take me sometime—I'd love to see." <<include "youbritalklong">>

Briony's eyes brighten. "<i>Really</i>? I had no idea! Will you perform here?" "Well," you begin in an embarrassed way, "I only practice in my room…" "Oh, but you must show me sometime! And I'm sure everyone else would love to see, too… we could put on a talent show!…" <<include "youbritalklong">>

Briony smiles. "Really? What do you write?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Essays and academic papers."' 'reallybribrionyseyes'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Political articles and treatises."' 'reallybribrionyseyes'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Business proposals and ideas."' 'reallybribrionyseyes'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Poetry and poems."' 'reallybribrionyseyes'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Songs and lyrics."' 'reallybribrionyseyes'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Short stories and novels."' 'reallybribrionyseyes'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Memoirs and journal entries."' 'reallybribrionyseyes'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Restaurant and play reviews."' 'reallybribrionyseyes'>><</link>></li> </ul>

"Really?" Briony's eyes are dreamy. "I'd love to read them sometime, if you ever want to share." <<include "youbritalklong">>

"Really?" Briony looks excited. "Would you ever let me see? No pressure, of course, but I've always loved art—that's so interesting that you draw and paint! What are some of your favorite subjects? What tools do you prefer?" <<include "youbritalklong">>

Briony's eyes brighten. "Really? I'd love to see some of your work sometime! I'd love to be able to sew, only the needle's always so tiny and I end up snapping it in half or stabbing myself…" <<include "youbritalklong">>

Briony's eyes brighten. "<i>Really</i>? I had no idea! Have you seen the forges in the compound? No, of course you have—they're intense, aren't they? What kind of things have you made? Any weapons?" <<include "youbritalklong">>

Briony's eyes brighten. "Really? That's so interesting! I'd love to see some of your work sometime! And how did you learn? Was it just something you took up yourself, or did someone teach you?" <<include "youbritalklong">>

She beams at you. "Isn't it nice? I especially love the feeling of being able to share the results with other people, and hopefully making them happy with my work…" <<include "youbritalklong">>

She beams at you. "Really? Then I'll have to ask you to teach me sometime! It seems so relaxing, and I love all the different types and properties…" <<include "youbritalklong">>

Briony smiles. "Really? I've tried it before, to clear my mind, but I can never quite manage it for long before something starts to itch…" <<include "youbritalklong">>

Briony's eyes sparkle. "Really? I would love to see them with you some night! I love looking at the sky even when I don't know the names of any of the stars…" <<include "youbritalklong">>

Briony grins. "I used to think that all Mages must, but Ayla doesn't seem to have any particular interest in it. What branch do you like the best? Are you good at all of them?" <<include "youbritalklong">>

You talk for a long time before the conversation moves on to other topics. <<include "brionyhi">>

"Weaknesses?" Briony thinks on it, her gaze distant. "There are a lot, I think. Tovrik had them in that big book of his. The biggest problem is that my strength gets away from me at times. And I can't do simple, little magic, did you know that?" "What do you mean?" you ask her. She makes a rueful, slightly embarrassed gesture. "It's not that I don't know how. I remember the basics instinctively, the methods behind casting small spells and charms. But Red says I'm so powerful that it just—doesn't go quite right. I light my clothes on fire when I try to dry them. I have to get up and blow candles out, rather than using magic to put them out, because I make them explode; or I have to wash dishes by hand, because I just pulverize them if I try to do it with magic. That sort of thing." "I've never heard of a magical gift like that," you note, though you don't doubt that that the problem comes from her sheer amount of strength. Even now, if you open your senses to it, you can practically feel the magic sizzling off of her. Briony snorts. "Apparently, neither has anyone else. That's why they all have trouble, pinning me down as strictly a Mage or strictly an Elf. They've put me through some tests, but all anyone can figure out is that I'm Diminished, through and through. The ears tell me I've got some Elvish blood—and I'm a Mage, of course. But then there's also the question of my physical strength. There are times when I can lift a horse over my head like it's nothing—but it's not <i>always</i>. It's mostly when I get mad, or—or it's just random. You've seen it, the way I punch through things. But other times I just feel… normal. Like I can only run as fast as anyone else, unless I'm <i>deliberately</i> using my magic or I'm trying to go faster. Like if I set off at a sprint, I'd only go about as fast as you, and it would be just as hard. But when I'm feeling urgent, and I think, I <i>need</i> to go faster, sometimes I just… do, without thinking about it." <<nobr>><<if $heritage is "Ket">> "It sounds like arma," you say. <br><br> Briony smiles crookedly. "That's what everyone says," she answers. "But Ket have looked at me, and they don't think I have any, or if I do, it only surfaces and manifests at unpredictable times. I can't call it up or use it like they can. It's just… it's more a matter of Kettish blood than arma, they think. It's not a lot to go on, but it might explain the random bursts of strength." <<else>> "That is so confusing," you say. <br><br> Briony snorts. "Tell me about it." <</if>><</nobr>> She gestures to herself. "I'm a regular ol' melting pot of blood and genetics, it seems. It's a disgusting way of putting it, but it is what it is." She doesn't seem interested in elaborating on this more. Nor does she seem keen to talk about her strengths—perhaps because she doesn't truly know what they are, yet. <<include "brionyhi">>

"Oh." Briony blinks rapidly, thinking. "Oh, I left her in my room—generally when I walk around the compound, I leave her there. She's too heavy to lug around if I'm not on patrol, training, or going out for a mission." <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Can I see her?"' 'canbriiseeher'>><<setbriony +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Can I see it?"' 'brionynottoday'>><<setbriony -3>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Nod and continue to other topics.' 'brionyhi'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Briony cocks her head. "Why?" You've been curious about the sword ever since Briony told you about it—her—at the arena in Heth Macoll. Now could be your chance to examine the seemingly-ancient weapon closely. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"I\'m just curious about her, and I want to see if I can find anything out."' 'imbrijustcurious'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"What if I can find some clue to your past?"' 'whatbriifican'>><<set $brionyharden += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Just get her, please."' 'brionynottoday'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Briony bites her lip, thinking it over, before she finally nods hesitantly and stands. <<include "brionygonturan">>

For some reason, Briony looks slightly uncomfortable at this prospect, but after a moment, she nods hesitantly and stands. <<include "brionygonturan">>

Briony frowns. "Um, not today, if that's all right. Maybe another time?" No amount of pressing gets her to budge on the issue, so you nod and continue to other topics. <<include "brionyhi">>

You watch as the warrior puts two fingers to her lips and lets out a sharp, piercing whistle. It's only a few seconds before you see Gonturan speeding out of a high open window on the second floor, darting towards you like a metallic dragonfly. Briony plucks the sword easily out of the air, the blade humming and singing in her hand, before she hands it to you. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"You summon Gonturan with a whistle?"' 'youbrisummon'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Thanks."' 'thanbriks'>><<setbriony +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You\'re lucky she didn\'t break through a wall."' 'yourebrilucky'>><</link>></li> </ul>

"Oh, no, I do it with my mind," Briony answers easily. "But I find that if I don't do something and just stare, and she just comes flying out of nowhere, people find it… unnerving." <<include "shebripasses">>

Briony smiles crookedly. "Just don't drop her," she warns jokingly. "I don't <i>think</i> she can be broken, but she'll dislike you for it." <<include "shebripasses">>

"Oh, I always leave that window open," Briony says breezily. "Otherwise, she <i>does</i> bust through walls. Blade threatened to throw me in the dungeons if I did it again." <<include "shebripasses">>

She passes you the long white sword, which immediately drags your hand down with its weight. The pommelstone flashes an angry red, and Briony warns, "Careful. She might twist out of your grip. <i>Gonturan</i>. Behave." The sword immediately lightens slightly, through the pommelstone now glows a resentful orange. You don't have long before Gonturan rebels against your hold. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Swing her around. You want to see what it\'s like when Briony fights.' 'swingbriheraround'>><<setcunning +1>><<setsword +1>><<set $brionystatus to "She's proved easy to read, but she's evasive when it comes to her amnesia and past life.">><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Reach out to the sword with your magic. There must be something fueling its supposed sentience.' 'reachbrioutto'>><<if (($specialization is "diviner" and $psionic gte 60) or ($specialization is "conjurer" and $psionic gte 65)) or (($specialization is "binder" and $psionic gte 60) or ($magic gte 75 and $psionic gte 55))>><<set $gonturanknow to true>><<setbriony +10>><<set $brionyromanceflag += 1>><<set $brionyharden += 1>><<set $brionystatus to "You recently learned more about her and her mysterious sword, Gonturan.">><<else>><<sethealth -20>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Smack the blade against the nearby tree trunk. You don\'t know if swords feel pain, but you\'ll teach it to respect you nonetheless.' 'smackbritheblade'>><<setbriony -10>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setcourage +3>><<setcharisma -3>><<setintelligence -3>><<setcunning +3>><<set $brionystatus to "You recently annoyed her by mistreating her sword, Gonturan.">><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Talk to the sword. "Is there anything you can tell me about Briony? Or about you?"' 'talkbritosword'>><<setcharisma +1>><<set $brionystatus to "You recently tried to talk to her sword, Gonturan, but you learned nothing.">><</link>></li> </ul>

You swing the sword around, and it feels good in your hand, the weight and strength of it satisfying, the way the sword cuts through the air deadly and ferocious. After several minutes, you hand the sword back to Briony. "Thanks." She accepts the sword, smiling wryly. "It feels good, doesn't it? Easy? That's the scary part. You could cut someone's head off like it was nothing, and something about Gonturan makes it seem… like nothing." She leans the sword against the tree behind you, and for some reason you both feel a sense of unease before it passes again. You sit down in the grass and continue chatting. <<include "brionyhi">>

<<nobr>><<if (($specialization is "diviner" and $psionic gte 60) or ($specialization is "conjurer" and $psionic gte 65)) or (($specialization is "binder" and $psionic gte 60) or ($magic gte 75 and $psionic gte 55))>> It takes a long, long while for you to try and pick apart the strange magic wrapped around the sword like threads of steel. It takes patience, like unwrapping layer after layer of a package that has been swaddled endlessly for thousands of years. You can't tear through the magic any more than you could tear through a metal sheet: all you can do is unravel it thread by thread, loosening and probing with your magic until you can unfold part of the tapestry and begin to make sense of it a little. <br><br> The first thing that surprises you is that Gonturan, in fact, does not speak. Your first suspicion had been that a spirit was residing within the sword, <<if $sherytime gt 1>> the same way Vivek resides in his stone statue. <<else>> that it was possessed by a being not inclined to speak with anyone except its master. <</if>> It's a common enough occurrence: there are hundreds, if not thousands, of weapons, artifacts, and various vessels scattered across the Continent that are inhabited by spirits—some very powerful and ancient, almost demi-gods themselves. There's that famous story about a boy finding a Spirit of Fortune in an old lamp somewhere in the Jalis desert, and how it befriended him and granted his every wish. <<if $specialization is "conjurer" or $arcane gte 45>> And there is something familiar enough about spirit minds that one is able to communicate with them with a fair amount of ease: they can speak Common as clearly as any resident of Blest. Some Mages theorize that it's because spirits are "echoes" of your own plane—manifestations of events, things, places, and people that leave a strong impression on the Spirit Realm, like ripples forming when a large stone is thrown into a pond. The spirits are the ripples, their world possibly a still pond reflecting your own. This theory explains why they are able to communicate as people do, once they arrive on this plane. <</if>> <br><br> But whatever Gonturan is, it can't truly speak. And it is not a spirit. When you reach out, there's no mind you can brush against, no conscious intelligence at all, really. Just… an awareness? A vague <i>knowing</i>? Whatever it is, it's unlike anything you've ever encountered before. And magic! So much magic is wrapped around the blade that it seems to your eyes to be sheathed in pure light; so much latent power is woven and sung into the metal itself that it seems to be constructed from a pure alloy of spell, ward, and steel. <br><br> Gonturan doesn't react to you as you reach out your hand and touch its blade, suddenly warm and alive with magic. As soon as you do, you hear voices rippling along its edge, warbling back through time and space itself. Bits and pieces of memory come to you, too, starting as a mote of light in your eye that grows and grows into a wavering ring of brilliance that matches Gonturan's half-visible white flame. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>You fall...</span></div></div>' "youbrifall">><</link>></center> <<else>> You immediately sense the immense task before you. Magic is wrapped around the sword like threads of steel, and trying to pick it apart is like unwrapping layer after layer of a package that has been swaddled endlessly for thousands of years. You can't tear through the magic any more than you could tear through a metal sheet: all you can do is try to unravel it thread by thread, one little bit at a time. <br><br> But the sword rebels against you. You see it flame white, and a mote of light appears in your left eye, growing and growing until it's a strange ring of bright flame, reaching into your mind, stabbing into you, burning— <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>"<<c firstname>>? <i><<c firstname>></i>!"</span></div></div>' "firstbrinamelastbriname">><</link>></center> <</if>><</nobr>>

Time is splintered where the blade is straight. Future, past, present—it means nothing to the sword. Weapons have no concept of time. <i>You see a tall man with a crown of starlight sitting on his fiery hair, forging a radiant white blade from pieces of a fallen star.</i> <i>Over many years, he funnels a bit of his magic into it, day after day, weaving a spectrum of colors and lights into the shining blade.</i> <i>The sword is not alive yet.</i> <i>The tall, heavy-browed man dies of old age. The sword passes to his daughter, who in turn sings some of her magic into the blade, making it hers as much as her father's. The sword is her legacy, and so she must preserve it always: she binds the blade to never break, and to guide its user's hand to always strike hard and true, even when its master grows weary—even when it's placed in the hands of a novice. </i> <i>Then the daughter is slain in battle, because she kept Gonturan in a case, a useless display on her wall. The sword passes to her brother, a vain, paranoid man: he binds a pommelstone into the sword's hilt, which will always warn him when an enchantment is being worked against him, so long as he keeps the sword at his side. </i> <i>And he also gives it clarity of sight, so that the sword might be watchful; so that it may protect him even if an enemy attacks him from behind, or an assassin strikes from a quarter that he is not watching. That was how his sister died, and he has learned his lesson. </i> <i>But Gonturan cannot stop him from being poisoned at his dinner table—it is not yet alive. And so it passes to his son after his untimely death.</i> <i>And so the many years drag on, each scion in the long lineage receiving Gonturan as part of their heritage and birthright: each one referring to Gonturan as a sister, a protector of their blood and of the land they in turn protect. And each heir adds a little more of their magic to the luminous blade. </i> <i>It goes on for thousands of years. Gonturan fights, shields, strikes, and cuts: she is bound indelibly to her masters, and guides their hands in every war, skirmish, and conflict they embroil her in.</i> <i>And then it happens. A great betrayal. Gonturan is wrenched from her bearer, the one who had held her since infanthood. She feels the great tearing, the severing of a bond three thousand years strong. An alien hand—thrumming with foreign blood—touches her. Whatever essence she has cries out in protest, screams in outrage at the violation—the great cataclysm shocks her awake. She is a sword, and a millennium of strange magic being worked and woven on her has allowed her to come… <b>alive</b>.</i> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "shebricomesawake">><</link>></center>

<i>She comes awake, and yet she still knows very little of the world around her. She only knows the hand of the one who wields her. The one who is not of the blood. And because she is now alive, she resists. At a critical moment when she should strike at the heart of the enemy, she goes still. Her wielder is slain instead, and then everything goes dark.</i> <i>She spends a century or more locked away and forgotten in a vault. </i> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "shebricomesawakei">><</link>></center>

<i>The next time Gonturan is unsheathed, the touch of the new bearer shocks her awake again.</i> <i>He is not of the blood, she knows. And yet, for all she knows, that entire bloodline was wiped out long ago, eradicated and extinguished entirely. Would she rather rot away in the dark once more, rust from disuse, and never fight again?</i> <i>She does not exactly live, but <b>if</b> she does—if it counts—she knows one thing. She lives to fight. It is why she was made. It is her one true purpose, and she must fulfill it. Always, always.</i> <i>And so Gonturan decides—as much as a sword can decide—that she will only be wielded by one who is worthy of wielding her, whether they possess her makers' blood or not. The wielder must be strong, capable, brave—and not a total fool who will shatter her at a moment's notice. It is the only way. Gonturan must survive, and she must fight. She cannot wait for the makers any longer. But she <b>can</b> choose to serve only the worthy.</i> <i>But a sword knows little of kindness, and even less of evil. Whatever deeds are wrought with her, she is not sure she cares. And so she comes to serve a myriad of souls she deems deserving of the honor, by whatever strange logic or instinct a weapon may possess. A man may be brave and strong, but also ruthless, even depraved. A warrior may be the strongest fighter alive—and yet she may utterly lack the capacity to love her fellow man. Either Gonturan does not care, or she does not know better. She tests only their mettle, the strength of their arm and the bravery of their deeds and the roar of their armies—but she does not judge the purity of their hearts.</i> <i>And when another warrior slays the one who wields her, she passes on to the rival. The killer. For surely they are stronger and worthier than her last master, who died at their hand. And so it becomes tradition to kill the current champion of Gonturan—the strongest and most powerful, or perhaps the cleverest and most cunning fighter in the land—in order to claim the sword and take their place. It is a constant wheel of bloodthirsty souls; a cycle of violence that suits Gonturan just fine. For violence means fighting—and she lives to fight, to serve. If that purpose is complete—if she can fight and remain close to her master—she is happy.</i> <i>As much as a sword can be happy. And she loves them, each king and warrior who bears her, except for that first Great Betrayer whom she in return betrayed. She loves them, loves Briony—although she does not know exactly what love is.</i> <i>Does she?</i> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>"...<<c firstname>>! <i><<c firstname>></i>!"</span></div></div>' "youbrijoltawake">><<sethealth -10>><</link>></center>

You jolt up just as Briony wrenches the sword out of your grip. Instantly, pain sings throughout your head; you blink suddenly bleary eyes and wipe your face. Your hand comes away bloody and red. "You just started bleeding," Briony says, leaning Gonturan against the tree trunk and producing a handkerchief, which she uses to dab at your nose. Blood leaks down and drips onto your collar. "You were—you were staring at Gonturan, and then all of a sudden you stopped breathing, and your nose started bleeding like that!" It takes a few moments to get yourself cleaned up, and to stem the tide of blood dripping from your nose. The pain in your head lessens quickly, but Briony's concern doesn't: she stares at you with muted horror, as if you'd just told her you were dying. "You—you can't do that again," she mutters. "It's clear she isn't to be tampered with. I had no idea she could do that!" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"<i>She</i> didn\'t do it. The magic that surrounds her is too strong. It\'s like exposing yourself to an open flame. You\'re going to get burned either way."' 'shebrididntdoit'>><<setintelligence +3>><<setmagic +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I might just have to do it again. I learned a lot, just now. It was worth it."' 'ibrimightjusthave'>><<setintelligence +3>><<setcourage +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Sorry, but you can\'t tell me what to do."' 'sorrybributyou'>><<setloyal -10>><</link>></li> </ul>

Briony frowns. "All the more reason why there won't be a repeat session," she says sternly. "Exposing yourself to flames is stupid, and no one ought to do it more than once—and I don't want to see you get hurt." <<include "shebrilistensgravely">>

Briony laughs shakily and shakes her head. "Intrepid as always," she mutters. "Well, you're not doing it again, no matter what you learned. I won't let you hurt yourself like that." Then she pauses. "But… what did she say? Did she tell you anything?" <<include "shebrilistensgravely">>

Briony makes a sound of indignation. "I'm not—I'm trying to <i>protect</i> you!" she sputters. "Your nose started bleeding! Who knows what would happen the next time? What damage it might be wreaking on you?" "If anything happens next time," you reply, "it will be my choice to accept the consequences. Not yours." Briony shakes her head and passes you the handkerchief. "It's my sword," she answers, her tone brooking no argument. "So while it might be your choice to—to <i>bleed</i> and hurt yourself, it's also my choice not to provide you the avenue to do it. I'll bury Gonturan under a cliff if I have to." You argue for a bit more, but it's clear Briony's opinion won't budge. You sigh and say, "Do you at least want to know what I learned?" Briony frowns, but she eventually nods. <<include "shebrilistensgravely">>

She listens gravely as you explain the bits and pieces you cobbled together while examining Gonturan. What you gleaned of her long history, of the various champions and leaders she's chosen over the years. "So she really is alive," Briony marvels. "It must be something about the combination of all those different kinds of magic, interacting with each other over the many centuries. It's like when Alchemysts blindly throw a thousand different potions and ingredients into a cauldron. The elements may react with each other in unpredictable ways—and you might not be able to ever replicate the reaction." Then she chews her lip. "But what is all this about her line of masters? Do you think someone's going to come looking for her, someday?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Maybe. Supposedly lots of people try to claim the sword for themselves."' 'maybebrisupposedly'>><<setbriony -3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I don\'t think so. It seems like the previous master must be killed in order for the sword to obey the next..."' 'ibridontthink'>><<set $brionyharden += 1>><<setintelligence +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I don\'t know. What I do think is that you might be a part of this bloodline."' 'ibridontknow'>><</link>></li> </ul>

Briony chews her lip, suddenly radiating tension and nervous energy. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Don\'t worry. If anyone comes looking, I\'ll protect you."' 'dontbriworryif'>><<if $brionyromanceflag gte 7>><<set $brionyromanceflag += 1>><</if>><<if $briony gte 65>><<setbriony +1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Do you think we should tell the others?"' 'dobriyouthink'>><<setbriony -3>><<setloyal +5>><<if $charisma gte 55 and $intelligence gte 50>><<setbriony +3>><<set $brionyromanceflag += 1>><<set $brionyharden += 1>><</if>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"...But maybe not. You washed up on shore and no one else did, so no one knows where you are."' 'butbrimaybenot'>><<setcharisma +3>><<setbriony +3>><<set $brionyromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Let her process this on her own.' 'letbriherprocess'>><<setbriony -1>><</link>></li> </ul>

Briony laughs quietly. "Thank you," she says genuinely, giving you a small smile. "I'm not so worried about that, but I appreciate it. I know you have my back." Then she turns away, looking pensive, and she doesn't speak again for a long, long while. <<include "brionyhi">>

She pales, <<nobr>><<if $brionynotouch is true>> shaking her head wildly. <<else>> then grabs your arm. <</if>><</nobr>> "Please don't," she says, her eyes wide. "Not—not yet. We don't know… anything. I don't want…" But she stops talking abruptly and bites her lip. <<nobr>><<if $charisma gte 55 and $intelligence gte 50>> <br><br> "You don't want to alarm anyone over nothing?" you ask. "Or… make them think you might be more trouble than you're worth? Or let people know that your past might come back to haunt you… physically?" <br><br> Briony stares at you for a moment, then laughs. "You're too good, <<c firstname>>," she says quietly. "It's—all of those things, I suppose." Then she looks at you earnestly. "So… please. Don't tell anyone this. Not yet." <br><br> You nod. "Of course." <br><br> She smiles at you. "Thank you, <<c firstname>>." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "brionyhi">>

Briony smiles tentatively. "…Yeah. That's true. Maybe you're right." Then she looks away, pensive, and says nothing more for a while. <<include "brionyhi">>

Briony says nothing at all for a long, long time. Finally she changes the subject, and you speak uneasily of other things, Gonturan watching you from the shade of the tree like a specter. <<include "brionyhi">>

For a moment, the pink-haired gladiator looks blank, as if she doesn't understand your meaning. Then the look clears, and her expression turns dark and grim. "You think I killed Gonturan's last owner?" she asks softly. You nod slowly. "Either that, or you somehow found her after the owner died," you posit. "But…" Briony looks away. "But the former seems more likely." Then she shakes her head. "But I—I wouldn't do that. Kill someone else, just to take their sword? I… I don't think I'd do that!" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"But you don\'t know what kind of person you were, before. You could have been more bloodthirsty, before you lost your memories."' 'butbriyoudont'>><<set $brionyharden += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Let\'s not jump to conclusions. We don\'t know the full situation. Maybe there were extenuating circumstances. Maybe you did it in self-defense."' 'letsbrinotjump'>><<setbriony +5>><<set $brionyromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"No, I know you. You wouldn\'t do that. There must be something we\'re missing."' 'nobriiknowyou'>><<setbriony +3>><<set $brionyharden -= 2>><</link>></li> </ul>

Briony flinches, but she doesn't argue with you. "This is why I'm scared to find out more," she mutters. Then she turns away, pensive, and you don't say anything more for a long, long while. <<include "brionyhi">>

Briony chews her lip, looking doubtful. She doesn't seem able to meet your eye. "You really think so?" You spread your hands. "We just don't know anything. We can't judge without knowing the bigger picture." After a long moment, Briony nods tightly. "You're… you're right," she says, taking a shaky breath. "I just… I hope I wasn't a bad person. That's all." Then she turns away, pensive, and you don't say anything more for a long, long while. <<include "brionyhi">>

She smiles shakily. "Thank you," she says, letting out a tight breath. "I… I think you're right. I just wonder what the real story was." Then she turns away, pensive, and you don't say anything more for a long, long while. <<include "brionyhi">>

Briony grimaces. "You think? But wasn't there that betrayal, the one that broke Gonturan from that lineage and passed her into the hands of strangers?" You shrug. "So I thought. But like I said, everything was fragmented—that could have happened earlier, or… later. We just don't know." Briony frowns, but doesn't seem to know what to say to this. After a moment she murmurs, "There's… something that feels right, when I fight with Gonturan. Like she belongs to me, like she's a part of me. Maybe I am of the right blood. Or maybe she just decided to choose a new wielder. Who knows?" But she looks perturbed. <<include "brionyhi">>

You jerk away from the sword just as Briony wrenches it out of your grip. Her eyes are wide and terrified, and you feel something hot dripping down your face. You bring a hand up to your nose, and it pulls away red and bloody. "You're bleeding!" Briony rushes to you and dabs at your face with a handkerchief; blood continues to drip down onto your collar. "Oh, gods, <<c firstname>>—you were just staring at her, and then all of a sudden you stopped breathing, and the blood—" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Panic. "Is something wrong with me?!"' 'panicbriissomething'>><<setcourage -3>><</link>></li> <<if $courage gte 55 and $intelligence gte 50>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Remain calm. "It\'s fine. This is a pretty normal reaction."</div>' 'remainbricalmitsfine'>><<setcourage +1>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>><<else>><<link '<div class="inactive-item">Remain calm. "It\'s fine. This is a pretty normal reaction."</div>'>><</link>><</if>> <li><<link 'Touch her shoulder. "I\'m sorry. I didn\'t mean to scare you."' 'touchbrihershoulder'>><<setcompassionate +5>><<setbriony +3>><<set $brionyromanceflag += 1>><</link>></li> </ul>

"I don't know," Briony says, her eyes still wide. Her hand trembles as she holds the handkerchief to your face. "I—I think it's like—the magic in Gonturan is too strong. It's like… like exposing yourself to an open flame. But the burn heals. Eventually." <<include "afterbrimoments">>

She lets out a half-hysterical sob. "Normal?" she chokes out. You nod. "The magic surrounding Gonturan is strong. It's like exposing yourself to an open flame versus a little candle. Sooner or later, you're going to get burned." She shakes her head. "So this is a usual side effect?" "It's temporary. I'll be fine in a few minutes." She smiles tightly. "I'm glad you're so confident. You gave me a scare, that's for sure." <<include "afterbrimoments">>

She lets out a half-hysterical sob. "It's just like you to worry about me when you're the one bleeding," she says shakily, holding the handkerchief against your face. "Here. I'm going to get some water—you try to pinch your nose." <<include "afterbrimoments">>

After a few minutes, your nose stops bleeding, and the pain in your head—when did that start?—lessens to a dull whine. Briony backs away from you with a relieved smile. "Good," she breathes. "You're going to be fine. But—it's clear that was a bad idea, whatever you did. You can't do that again." You nod reluctantly. "I suppose Gonturan is something that shouldn't be tampered with." "No," Briony says with a wry twist of her mouth. "But I appreciate you trying." "Is it like that whenever you use it? Whenever you talk to her?" She shakes her head. "No. Never." Then she looks away from your bloody face. "It doesn't matter. Let's just leave it alone, all right?" You nod, and then you both look away from each other. Gonturan watches you from the shadows of the tree like some kind of pale specter. <<include "brionyhi">>

Briony gives a little cry of alarm when you slam Gonturan against the tree trunk, hard enough to feel the impact reverberate through your bones. She snatches the sword back from you and flushes angrily. "How <i>dare</i> you! You've—you can't just—" "It's a <i>sword</i>," you retort. "It's meant to be waved around; it's built to withstand hits. I didn't do it any harm." Briony flushes further. "It's not about that! She's my friend, and also my property, and…" She seems to realize how crazy she sounds, because she stops talking abruptly. You watch as she drops back down to the ground, holding Gonturan in her lap protectively. "…Just don't do it again, all right?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Sorry. I didn\'t think it would upset you."' 'sorrybriididnt'>><<setbriony +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I don\'t see what the big deal is. It can\'t feel pain, can it?"' 'ibridontseewhat'>><<setbriony -3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Fine."' 'fibrine'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"You\'re way too attached to that thing."' 'yourebriwaytoo'>><<setbriony -8>><</link>></li> </ul>

After a moment, she nods at you warily. "Just so long as you leave her alone," she mutters. <<include "brionyswordtalkover1">>

"That's not the point," Briony mutters—but what the point is, she doesn't say. <<include "brionyswordtalkover1">>

Briony presses her lips together, but says nothing to your curt response. <<include "brionyswordtalkover1">>

Briony's eyes flame dangerously, but she holds her tongue. <<include "brionyswordtalkover1">>

After several awkward moments, her anger seems to pass like a storm cloud, and you resume an uneasy conversation until she finally relaxes and lets Gonturan rest in the grass. She doesn't mention the incident again. <<include "brionyhi">>

The sword remains completely silent, the same as any sword would. The pommelstone doesn't even change color. You suddenly feel very silly, but Briony says, "I talk to her like that all the time. It looks mad, but people don't know she's… <i>alive</i>." <<nobr>><<if ($briony <= 60)>> But is she? Looking down at the inert, perfectly ordinary-looking (at least at the moment, when not consumed by magefire) weapon, you suddenly feel a flicker of doubt. What if all of this talk about Gonturan's sentience is complete nonsense? What if Briony is just imagining she has a companion? Could you really blame her, after all she's been through and how unmoored she's become from the rest of her life? Of course she'd invent a friend: she forgot any others she might have had. <br><br> Briony seems to read your mind and takes the sword back from you without a word. When you look at her, you see how her gaze has turned sad and… disappointed. <<else>> You nod slowly and try again. "Please. Can you tell me something. Anything?" <br><br> You wait several long moments, but Gonturan doesn't respond at all. You might as well be talking to a brick wall. <br><br> "Well, you tried," the former gladiator says, trying to smile. "But like I said, she doesn't actually talk. I just… feel things from her, sometimes." <br><br> "Why would she be a 'she'?" you ask then, watching as Briony lays the sword against the tree trunk. "Would a sword need a gender? If anything, wouldn't she be 'xe' or just 'it'?" <br><br> Briony shrugs. "I dunno," she says blithely, looking unconcerned. "It's just like a ship, I suppose. Sailors call them 'she', don't they? And—I get the feeling that she's always been referred to that way. By… whoever had her before me." <br><br> "And who would that be?" <br><br> But Briony only shrugs. "You tell me. Like I said, it's all just… feelings." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "brionyhi">>

You talk for a long time, about everything and nothing. It becomes clear that Briony is desperate to avoid any further talk about her past, so you make idle conversation about other things: she tells you stories of her time in the arena, the bits and pieces she remembers of the journey there, the places she wants to travel to someday. You tell her about your life before the Shepherds, your own travels, past <<nobr>><<if (($aro is true) or ($aroace is true))>> scares and lessons and trials. <<else>> loves and hopes and trials.<</if>><</nobr>> You also studiously avoid any talk of your thirteenth birthday, of what happened then and immediately after, and the understanding between you circles above you like watching birds. You suddenly know what Briony's feeling: she's tired of thinking about that part of her past, reluctant to talk about it, to look directly at it. It's consumed so much of her daily life already that she just doesn't want to give it power over her anymore. So for a fearless warrior with explosive magic and superstrength—there are things she's afraid of, too. Things she can't charge headlong into. It's the same for you. People think you're some kind of savior, the Hero of Haven… but you all have your vulnerabilities. Briony sees the understanding in your eyes and smiles knowingly. <<nobr>><<if ($lavinetjoin is true)>> "So," she says breezily, "do you think I ought to dye my hair? Lavinet's going to hire her own stylist, and she said I could use them! What do you think…?" <<else>> "So," she says breezily, "want to race across the field to those ahfuri? I promise I won't cheat!" <</if>><</nobr>> <<page_break "..." "sometimelaterrielbriony">>

Some time later, Riel appears at the edge of the field, picking his way over to you fastidiously. The ahfuri on the other side of the fence pause to watch him in a predatory way, and he looks back at them with muted distaste. "Riel!" Briony exclaims excitedly; she waves as if he hasn't seen you yet. "What are you doing out here? You said you'd burst into flames if you stayed in the sun for too long." "That was Chase, not me," he replies archly, coming to a stop in front of you. "And I came to let you know that a certain recruit is now in detention for breaking another recruit's nose. They had some kind of fight, and she used a certain move that struck me as very… recognizable." He gives Briony a pointed look, and she flushes. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"It was me. I taught the recruit that move."</div>' 'autogenerated_67961'>><<setbriony +3>><<setcompassionate +3>><<setloyal +1>><<setcourage +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Uh... is she in trouble?"</div>' 'autogenerated_67962'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I told you you shouldn't have done that."</div>' 'autogenerated_67963'>><<setbriony -5>><<setriel -5>><<setloyal -5>><<setcunning +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $brionyromanceflag >= 8>><<set $brionyromanceflag += 1>><</if>> <</nobr>>Riel snorts. "An admirable but ultimately futile gesture, <<c firstname>>," he says. "Your loyalty is touching, but I'd have to be blind not to deduce that this was all Captain Stormbreaker." Briony frowns. "Am I in trouble? And—" Riel cuts over her. "On the contrary," he says. "If this were a different organization, you'd likely be disciplined. But we're all about teaching others to defend themselves here, it seems. You've got at least a dozen recruits clamoring for you to teach them that move as well. They're waiting for you in the east courtyard." <<include 'brionybrilliantsmile'>>

Riel snorts. "On the contrary," he says. "Briony has at least a dozen recruits clamoring for her to teach them that move, as well. They're waiting for you in the east courtyard." <<include 'brionybrilliantsmile'>>

Briony turns to you, her mouth dropping open in outrage, but Riel cuts in first. "On the contrary," he says. "You've got at least a dozen recruits clamoring for you to teach them that move, Briony. They're waiting for you in the east courtyard." <<include 'brionybrilliantsmile'>>

Briony's face breaks into a wide, brilliant smile, and she climbs to her feet. "Really?" Riel jerks his head in affirmation. "I suggest you get to work. But if you encourage recruits to fight each other again, it will be a different story next time." Briony salutes him. "Understood. Thank you, Riel." <<nobr>> <<if ($briony >= 65)>> Then she turns to you with a pleased, carefree expression. "But I'll only go if <<c firstname>> comes to teach them, too. Will you come, <<c firstname>>?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Of course I'm coming!"</div>' 'autogenerated_67964'>><<setbriony +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I think I'll pass this time."</div>' 'autogenerated_67965'>><<setbriony -5>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <<else>> She turns to you with a happy smile. "Next time, <<c firstname>>? I look forward to talking to you some more." <br><br> She leaves with Riel, and you're left standing alone with her sword, watching her disappear among the blooming flowers of the battlefield. <br><br> <<include "brionyover">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if ($brionynotouch is false)>> She beams, then grabs your hand. Her grip is gentle and friendly and warm, and her eyes are affectionate as she pulls you along. <<else>> She beams. <</if>><</nobr>> She's seemed to have forgotten all about your talk earlier; and she walks away together with you and Riel, bubbling over with laughter, leading you down through a battlefield of flowers just beginning to bloom. <<include 'brionyover'>>

She smiles understandingly, though she seems disappointed; Riel nods. "Next time, then," she says, giving you a wave and gifting you a small smile. "I want to talk to you some more, all right? So let's make time for each other again soon!" She leaves with Riel, and you're left standing alone with her sword in the shade, watching her disappear among the timid, blooming flowers of the combat field. <<include 'brionyover'>>

<<setbriony +5>>You hear that Briony is spending her afternoon off at the Wolf's Den, the conveniently-named new tavern down the street from the Shepherds' compound. You make your way there at a leisurely pace, but the atmosphere when you enter the dimly-lit, high-raftered tavern is anything but relaxed. Briony is sitting at a high corner table, evidently having been engrossed in scratching away at the pages of a small leather-bound book, the demolished ruins of a cheese and fruit plate at her right elbow. Right now, though, she seems to be involved in a rather intense conversation with a massive, muscle-bound stranger you've never seen before—he looks like a veritable golem and towers over her by a good foot-and-a-half—the expression on her face the forced, cool kind of politeness that Briony assumes with strangers she doesn't much like. As you pause by the door, taking the scene in, the gladiator shakes her head, obviously refusing the man; the stranger leans over Briony's table in response and places his huge hand on her book, preventing her from writing it any further as he speaks to her in low, ugly tones. A dangerously-familiar, mutinous expression crosses Briony's face at that. From experience, you can tell that you have about three seconds before she loses her temper. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Hurry over and intercede... for the stranger's sake.</div>' 'autogenerated_67966'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Walk over to the man and yank his hand away from Briony. No one messes with her on your watch!</div>' 'autogenerated_67967'>><<setbriony +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Approach the table, but keep your distance and observe what happens. Briony can handle herself.</div>' 'autogenerated_67968'>><<setloyal -4>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $briony lt 60>> <<setbriony -1>> <</if>><</nobr>>You hurry over just as you hear Briony saying in a calm, dangerous manner: "Take your hand off my journal, sir, before you lose the use of it forever." And she sets her quill down with deliberate slowness and cracks her knuckles. "Now, now, Briony, we can't have you destroying the place again," you say in loud tones, forcing the disgruntled stranger to look at you. He has the look and bearing of a sailor, somehow, with short red scruff and deep-set, shadowed eyes. "The last time a man annoyed you, they had to close the tavern down after you put him through the wall." Briony looks at you, but her face is rigid with dislike, and her eyes glitter fiercely. She doesn't say a word, but the man looks between the two of you, frowning. He must decide he doesn't much like the look of you, especially with your $mainweapon visible. Shaking his head and muttering something in a foreign language, he turns and beats a hasty retreat out the door. Briony smiles at you slightly, though the look in her eyes is still a bit cold as she glances back towards the door. "Thank you, <<c firstname>>," she says after a moment, with forced pleasantry. "I didn't want to hurt him, but I didn't know what I would have done if he didn't leave!" <<include 'briony_confrontation_aftermath'>>

<<nobr>><<if $brionyromanceflag gte 10>> <<set $brionyromanceflag += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>>Smothering a protective growl, you march over to the burly man and yank his wrist—which is as thick as a young tree trunk—away from Briony's journal. "She said no, sir," you say coolly, dropping his meaty forearm as he wheels to face you. Up close, he smells repugnant, of salt and unwashed body; you'd guess he was a sailor, by the look and bearing of him, with short red scruff and deep-set, shadowed eyes. "Whatever you want, you aren't getting it, so I suggest you leave now." Briony looks at you, a small, grateful smile on her face—but that smile drops into an expression of tense, narrow-eyed warning as the man opens his mouth, looking between the two of you as he gauges what your arrival might mean for him. Evidently, he doesn't much like the look of you, especially with your $mainweapon visible, because he only shakes his head and beats a hasty retreat out the door. Briony smiles at you, though the expression is a bit weary as she sinks back into her chair. "Thank you, $firstname," she says, sighing in apparent relief. "I didn't want to hurt him, but I don't know what I would have done if he didn't leave!" <<include 'briony_confrontation_aftermath'>>

<<nobr>><<if $briony gte 60>> <<setbriony +1>> <</if>><</nobr>>You walk over slowly, and neither Briony nor her intruder notice you as you hear the gladiator saying in calm, deadly tones: "Take your hand off my journal, sir, before you lose the use of it forever." "<i>Spithek kas'ul</i>," the man growls, which you're pretty sure is vulgarity from the South. He reaches to grab her bicep in a crushing grip with his other hand. "If you'd just come with me…" Briony's hand flashes down, having reversed its grip on her quill, and she stabs the back of the man's hand, the one currently planted on her journal. He howls, stumbling back and releasing her in shock, and Briony rises to her feet with smooth deliberation. The half-full tavern quiets as others turn to look at the commotion; the temperature of the air seems to drop. The look in Briony's eyes is suddenly dark and ominous, the purple veering abruptly into something like black. "That's the second time I've warned you," she says quietly, the expression on her face one of muted ferocity. She's still clutching the quill like it's a dagger. "Shall we see what happens the third time?" The burly man throws her a look of pure hatred, but noticing everyone else's eyes on him—and your arrival to the scene, behind him—he finally decides to concede and beats a hasty retreat out the door, clutching his wounded hand and muttering denouncements in a foreign language. Briony looks at you, seemingly unsurprised to find you standing there, and collapses back into her chair. "And he got <i>blood</i> all over my book," she says in disgust. <<include 'briony_confrontation_aftermath'>>

She greets you quickly in her own <<nobr>><<if $brionyromanceflag gte 10 or $briony gte 75>> fashion—with a hug and a kiss on the cheek—before she invites you to take the seat across from her, <<else>> fashion before she invites you to take the seat across from her, <</if>><</nobr>> tidying up her pens and papers all the while. <<nobr>> <<if $brionyjournal>> "I took your advice and have decided to start journaling," she explains brightly, seeming to forget all about her unpleasant encounter as you wave a barmaid over to take your order. "At first it was rough going—I'm not really used to being diligent and writing in something regularly—but I figure it will be nice someday to look back and feel as if I have a record for my memories and how I spent my days, even if I end up somehow forgetting them again. It makes me feel… safer, you know? Like things are more permanent if they're written down somewhere." Her expression falters for a moment before she continues with a forced laugh: "I'm really not a great writer, though. But I am finding that I enjoy doing little sketches! Sometimes it's easier to express how I'm feeling through… through art, I suppose, rather than trying to put words to it all." <<else>> "Riel suggested that I start journaling," she explains brightly, seeming to forget all about her unpleasant encounter as you wave a barmaid over to take your order. "He thinks that chronicling my days and recording my memories will—will give me a sense of permanence and security, he said. Even if I'm afraid the amnesia will come back and I'll forget things again, at least I have something recorded somewhere, written down in my own hand. And maybe, while I think things through, I'll start to see patterns in my thought process, and maybe it'll jog my memory, or something." Her expression falters for a moment before she continues with a forced laugh: "I'm really not a great writer, though. But I am finding that I enjoy doing little sketches! Sometimes it's easier to express how I'm feeling through… through art, I suppose, rather than trying to put words to it all." <</if>><</nobr>> She shows you a few of her sketches, which are surprisingly decent ink or charcoal drawings of seemingly random scenes: a bird resting on her bedroom windowsill, or what looks to be the shape of Red's hand as he points at an abacus, evidently in the midst of trying to shore up Briony's abysmal skills in math. She's no professional artist, but there's a certain honesty and transparency in her drawings that give you an interesting window into the former gladiator's perspective. Suddenly self-conscious, Briony abruptly tucks the journal away. "Of course, it's nothing special," she says in an embarrassed way. "I'm sure you've seen much better." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I think they look great!"</div>' 'autogenerated_67969'>><<setbriony +3>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I like them! I can't draw worth a hare's ass, so this is already impressive, especially for a beginner."</div>' 'autogenerated_67970'>><<setbriony +3>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Maybe in a technical sense, but I like them because you made them."</div>' 'autogenerated_67971'>><<setbriony +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Well, keep working at it, and you're sure to improve over time."</div>' 'autogenerated_67972'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Yeah, they're pretty childish."</div>' 'autogenerated_67973'>><<setbriony -3>><<setcompassionate -3>><<setcharisma -1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Briony beams at your encouragement, clearly pleased. "Thank you!" <<include 'briony_discuss_stranger'>>

Briony beams at your encouragement. "Oh, not at all," she says modestly. "I'm sure if you were interested, you'd blow me out of the water in a heartbeat." <<include 'briony_discuss_stranger'>>

Briony smiles at you, a bit shyly. "Aw, thank you, <<c firstname>>! That's sweet of you to say." <<include 'briony_discuss_stranger'>>

Briony smiles at you tentatively. "I will!" <<include 'briony_discuss_stranger'>>

Briony gives you a wounded look, but she doesn't refute your comment. <<include 'briony_discuss_stranger'>>

The barmaid stops by to drop off your drink and a fresh platter of spiced nuts, crisp fruit, and tangy cheese; you and Briony pick away at the platter for a moment, the pink-haired Battle-Mage chattering to you quite happily and carelessly, before you level her with an expectant look and say, "Briony. Who was that man?" Briony's mouth closes with a snap. She blinks at you for a moment before she glances away and says in a mumble, "…I have no idea, actually. I was just sitting here, minding my own business, before he came up to me and started asking me questions." At your raised brows, she scowls a little and continues reluctantly, "He said something about my hair color, then started asking me questions like my name and where I come from or what I do, and then he became agitated and tried to get me to leave with him. Honestly, I don't know a thing about him, except that I didn't want to go anywhere with him!" You stare at her for another moment. "Wait, so you're saying he knew you?" She shakes her head. "I don't <i>think</i> he did," she says, her voice more hesitant now. "Not personally. But, um, it seemed like maybe he'd recognized me from somewhere? I thought maybe he'd been in the audience at the arena and had seen me fighting some time, but maybe…" She trails off at the look on your face. You try to keep your voice calm as you tell her, "Briony, what if he knew who you were? From before you lost your memories? What if that man was someone from your past?!" It's far too late to go chasing after the man now: he's long since vanished into Haven's teeming metropolis, and you doubt anyone in the tavern will know anything useful about him. But this could be one of the first solid clues to Briony's true identity, and she just casually dismissed it out-of-hand like… like it was nothing! The former gladiator colors beneath your incredulous stare, her gaze falling to her plate. She picks unhappily at a crust of bread, crumbling it to pieces, before she admits quietly: "…I did sort of wonder if it could be something like that. But…" She bites her lip, seeming reluctant to go on. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Give her space and change the subject to a lighter topic.</div>' 'autogenerated_67974'>><<set $brionyharden -= 3>><<setbriony +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Press her. "But what?"</div>' 'briony_confess_fears'>><<set $brionyharden += 1>><<setbriony +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Reading the atmosphere, you decide not to press Briony and instead allow her to arrive at the topic at her own pace—if she ever does. Instead, you entertain her with light-hearted, amusing conversation about various goings-on around the compound, the latest gossip about the new recruits and the newest debacle over secret love letters being passed around. Soon enough, Briony is back to her laughing, carefree self. <<include 'briony_embarrassing_story'>>

Briony looks up at you, and suddenly her eyes are swimming with suppressed tears. "…But I was… afraid," she admits in a small whisper. "Afraid of what?" She shrugs unhappily, swiping at her eyes and sniffling as she says, "Of what I would find out, if he did know anything about me. I… I don't know if I'm ready to open that door yet, <<c firstname>>. I <i>like</i> who I am right now. I like being Briony Stormbreaker. I like the home I've chosen, the friends I've made, the… the story I've been a part of! I like being the gladiator champion who broke free of her enslavement and joined the Shepherds. The strong heroine who protects others from demons and—and spends her time journaling and training and talking to people around the compound and—all of that!" She takes a deep breath and sinks miserably back into her chair. "I'm <i>used</i> to it now, don't you see? I'm comfortable like this. But if…" You're silent for a moment, digesting all of this. "But if that man could tell you more about yourself…" She looks up at you, her eyes shining now with some emotion you can't quite place. "I didn't much like the look of him, <<c firstname>>, did you?" she asks softly. "He doesn't seem like the sort I'd associate with <i>now</i>. But what if he's some indication of the life I lived?" She shakes her head, dragging her hands through her flyaway pink hair. "Or worse, what if he tells me something really vile about myself, or something really… really hard to swallow? What if I was a criminal? What if I beat and robbed people for fun? Or what if I'm married and have three children who have been wondering all this time where I've been, and I have no idea, or what if I had a child who died of plague while I was away, or what if someone shows up claiming to be my sister or my twin or my lover and now I <i>hate</i> them—" The air around you is beginning to heat and hum with the telltale buzz of magic, your skin prickling and your eyes growing tight as astral energy thickens around you and Briony's passion rises. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $brionyromanceflag gte 10>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Cover her hands with yours. "All right, love, that's enough. Everything's all right."</div>' 'autogenerated_67975'>><<set $brionyromanceflag += 3>><<setbriony +3>><<setcompassionate +1>><<set $brionystatus to "You two are growing ever closer...">><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Tap her knee. "You've been learning meditative techniques, haven't you? Take a deep breath. Slow your heart down."</div>' 'autogenerated_67976'>><<setbriony +1>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Snap your fingers in front of her eyes. "Briony. Briony! Calm down. Don't lose control of yourself."</div>' 'autogenerated_67977'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Challenge her. "Any of that could be true, yes. But the only solution is to face it, not run away from it. You'll deal with things as they come."</div>' 'autogenerated_67978'>><<set $brionyharden += 1>><<setbriony +1>><<setcompassionate -1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Briony's eyes lift to yours in shock, but slowly, you feel her cool, surprisingly-small hands beginning to warm beneath yours. She turns her wrists up tentatively, and the two of you clasp hands for a long moment... then another... staring into each other's eyes all the while. <<nobr>> <<if $brionyromanceflag gte 12>> Briony's lips part slightly, almost as if in wonder, before she blushes and looks away. Still, her hands tighten subtly around yours, as if to ask you not to pull away just yet. <</if>><</nobr>> Finally she lets out a long breath. "Thank you, <<c firstname>>," she says softly, staring wonderingly into your eyes. Her voice is steadier as she adds, "I'm all right now." You squeeze her hands encouragingly before easing away as the barmaid returns to check on you, giving you both a suspicious sidelong look as she whisks away Briony's empty flagon. <<include 'briony_after_confession'>>

Briony's eyes lift to yours in shock, but she nods tightly and follows your lead as you take one deep breath, then another. After a few moments have passed, you feel the headachy thrum of magic ease and the tension in the air lighten. Briony gives you a watery smile and blows out a breath, sinking back into her chair. "Thanks, <<c firstname>>," she murmurs, staring down at her hands balled on her thighs. "I'm all right now." <<include 'briony_after_confession'>>

Briony's eyes lift to yours in shock, but she nods tightly and acquires a fixed look of concentration on her face, her cheeks reddening as she seems to hold her breath. After a few moments have passed, you feel the headachy thrum of magic ease and the air lighten. Briony gives you a watery smile and blows out a breath, sinking back into her chair. "Thanks, <<c firstname>>," she murmurs, staring down at her hands balled on her thighs. "I'm all right now." <<include 'briony_after_confession'>>

Briony's eyes lift to yours in shock. "But..." "You'll figure it out," you tell her, unrelenting. "And knowing would be better than living with all of this uncertainty hanging over you like a cloud." There's a sharp, stinging, dangerous moment as the magic in the air seems to grow even more electric, making it difficult to drag in a breath... before, impossibly, Briony smiles, and the expression in her eyes lightens considerably. "You're right, <<c firstname>>," she murmurs, looking down at her hands balled on her thighs as the tension around you eases. "I know you are." <<include 'briony_after_confession'>>

You blow out a breath of relief and rock back in your own chair as the people around you throw you grateful, acknowledging glances, including the poor barkeeper himself. Although Briony has an echo of her instinctual magical knowledge still rattling around in her brain, a holdover of whatever past education has been ingrained into her by unthinking muscle-memory and long habit, her amnesia has reduced her actual control of that magic to the level of an adolescent's. And Mage teenagers are infamous for losing control of their powers in unexpected and volatile ways, especially during periods of high emotion. Wisely, the server returns with a mug of calming tea for the Battle-Mage, and you take a few moments to let things sink in. Finally, Briony looks up at you expectantly, her face now resigned. "The point is, I'm a happy person now," she says in a low voice. "If I go digging around in my past, like for real, I'm going to… find a lot of broken pieces. How could I not? I washed up somewhere on a beach. I had to have left people, some kind of life, behind. I'm not sure I… want to spend the rest of my life cobbling things back together, letting whatever tragedy robbed me of my memory define all my actions forever. I want to be <i>me</i>, not <i>her</i>… if that makes any sense." She looks up at you, and you can see it in her face now, the raw fear: Briony has been sitting on this a while, and she's scared witless. It's honestly a wonder that she's been able to hide it under her cheerful demeanor for so long; that also tells you that she may not always be as emotionally-honest—at least about herself—as she seems. But right now, she's sharing her vulnerability with you. "What do you think, <<c firstname>>?" she asks you. "Hearing all of that, do you really think I should go chasing leads to my past… even if they might end in places I don't want to go?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Who you were in the past doesn't matter now. If you're happy as you are, turn your eyes forward. Live in the moment and prepare for your future. Let the ghosts of the past stay there."</div>' 'autogenerated_67979'>><<set $brionyharden -= 5>><<setbriony +5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You can't move forward if you never know, Briony. Face your fears, even if it makes your life more difficult. You'll forever be haunted by 'what ifs' if you don't find the answers for yourself."</div>' 'autogenerated_67980'>><<set $brionyharden += 5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I don't know, Briony. Only you can decide that for yourself."</div>' 'autogenerated_67981'>><<set $brionyharden -= 1>><<setloyal -5>><<setbriony -3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Briony stares at you for a moment. Then she slides out of her chair and leans over to throw her arms around you in an enormous hug. "You're so—you're so—!" She squeezes you tightly for a moment before releasing you, the whiff of almond blossom and something sweet and summery lingering in the air around you as she goes back to her seat. "You're the best, <<c firstname>>," she tells you, her eyes shining at you as she beams beatifically. You smile back at her. "You're building a new life here with us," you tell her. <<nobr>> <<if $loyal gte 85 and $compassionate gte 75>> "And we'll all be here to help you do that, all right? Nothing can take that away from you." <<else>> "Just keep your mind focused on that." <</if>><</nobr>> Briony lets out an unsteady laugh, hastily scrubbing at her eyes. "Thank you, <<c firstname>>," she sniffles. "I can't tell you what that means." You decide to change the subject for a while, to give her time to calm down, and eventually the conversation naturally turns to other things. You entertain each other with light-hearted, amusing conversation about various goings-on around the compound, the latest gossip about the new recruits and the newest debacle over secret love letters being passed around, then discuss current events and your thoughts about what's transpiring across the Continent. Soon enough, Briony is back to her laughing, carefree self. <<include 'briony_embarrassing_story'>>

Briony lets loose a breath as if you'd punched her in the stomach. "All right," she mutters, though she sounds like a sullen, sulky teenager being told to complete a loathsome chore. "I'll think about it, anyway." Then she smiles a little at you, clearly showing that there are no hard feelings. "Thanks, <<c firstname>>." For now, there's nothing further you can do about the matter of the strange man or Briony's past, so eventually the conversation turns to other things—a fact that Briony clearly seems relieved by. You entertain each other with light-hearted, amusing conversation about various goings-on around the compound, the latest gossip about the new recruits and the newest debacle over secret love letters being passed around, then discuss current events and your thoughts about what's transpiring across the Continent. Soon enough, Briony is back to her laughing, carefree self. <<include 'briony_embarrassing_story'>>

Briony lets loose another slow, resigned breath, slumping over the table for a moment. "I know," she says heavily. For now, there's nothing further you can do about the matter of the strange man or Briony's past, so eventually the conversation turns to other things—a fact that Briony clearly seems relieved by. You entertain each other with light-hearted, amusing conversation about various goings-on around the compound, the latest gossip about the new recruits and the newest debacle over secret love letters being passed around, then discuss current events and your thoughts about what's transpiring across the Continent. Soon enough, Briony is back to her laughing, carefree self. <<include 'briony_embarrassing_story'>>

"The most embarrassing thing just happened to me the other day," she admits eventually, though she seems more playfully self-deprecating than genuinely mortified, clearly seeking to amuse you. "I was up for a mission, but… after I gave a demonstration of the skills needed, Blade and Riel decided to give the assignment to someone else!" You hold back a laugh; if you were in her position, you're not sure you'd share that information so freely. "What kind of assignment was it?" Briony blushes a little, though she says gamely enough: "Infiltrating some sort of brothel or courtesan's palace. There's some idea that one of the clients there is kidnapping women to use in—demonic rituals, or something—and it was an undercover job very much like the one you took when you first met me, pretending to be a captured slave in Heth Macoll." She gives you a dry, pointed look before suddenly remembering something else and covering her face with both hands. "But when Riel was skeptical that I'd manage it—not just lying, but, you know, acting <i>seductive</i> and all that—I gave him a <i>look</i> and said, 'Does this convince you?'" Her voice becomes strangled as she finishes, "And he <i>immediately</i> pulled me off the job and gave it to Lavinet and Tallys! They're fighting it out between themselves as we speak!" She lowers her hands and stares at you with wounded eyes. "And Blade was in the room when he kicked me off, too! And he just said, '...Agreed,' and walked out!" You can't help it: between the outraged look on her face and the image the story conjures up, you burst out laughing. "<<c firstname>>!" Briony wails. <<include "brionysillytalk">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("briony_look_demo")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"First of all, I have to see what look you gave them."</div>' 'briony_look_demo'>><<setbriony +1>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("briony_why_not") and ($charisma gte 75) and ($gender is not "male")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"I'm somewhat offended. Why didn't they ask me to do this assignment?"</div>' 'briony_why_not'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("briony_task_choice")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"Who do you think is better-suited for the task, Lavinet or Tallys?"</div>' 'briony_task_choice'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("briony_jealous") and $brionyromanceflag gte 10>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm glad you didn't go. I think I would have been quite jealous if you had."</div>' 'briony_jealous'>><<set $brionyromanceflag += 3>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">She suddenly looks at you beadily.</div>' 'briony_player_charm'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Briony blushes, but she's grinning, too. "That's not fair! I'm already telling you it was bad, and now you want me to do it on command?" "You wouldn't have brought it up if you weren't expecting this." "Fine..." She turns her head over her shoulder to rearrange her expression without your scrutiny... then turns back to you, her cheeks sucked in to a ridiculous, elongated pout as she lowers her eyelids in a comical 'smolder.' The effect makes her look more like a skeletal ghoul than an alluring, experienced courtesan... <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Keep a straight face.</div>' 'briony_seduction_reaction'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Bite your lips to keep from laughing.</div>' 'briony_seduction_reaction'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Bust out in side-splitting laughter. "Oh, that's <i>awful</i>!"</div>' 'briony_seduction_reaction'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>> "You were already deployed on your own thing," Briony says sulkily. "Otherwise, I'm sure you would have been first pick!" <<if ($highestromance is "riel" and $rielromanceflag gte 15) or ($highestromance is "blade" and $bladeromanceflag gte 20)>> Then she pauses and looks rather slyly at you. "Or maybe not. After all, <<c highestromance>> probably wanted to avoid getting you involved because he'd be too jealous!" <</if>> <<include "brionysillytalk">> <</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $lavinetromanceflag gte 10>> You can't help but feel a bit jealous and resentful at the thought. Lavinet, tasked with infiltrating a brothel? Who knows what manner of client she'll encounter there? The idea is extremely uncomfortable... <br><br> <<elseif $tallysromanceflag gte 15 or $tallyssex>> You can't help but feel a bit jealous and resentful at the thought. Tallys, tasked with infiltrating a brothel? You know she can handle herself, but who knows what manner of client she'll encounter there? The idea is extremely uncomfortable... <br><br> <</if>><</nobr>> Briony hums in thought. "Hmm. Well, Lavinet is beautiful as well as a polished liar, to be sure, but she is a <i>bit</i> sheltered: I worry that a great lady like her, who's used to being treated nicely, won't fully adjust to being treated like a courtesan well. Tallys is beautiful, too, and can keep a cooler head, I think, but she's not exactly charming towards people she doesn't like." <<nobr>> <<if $lavinetromanceflag gte 10 or $tallysromanceflag gte 15 or $tallyssex>> At your frown, she adds, "Perhaps I shouldn't have said anything. I promise you, <<c firstname>>, whoever goes will be totally fine!" <br><br> "If you say so," you grumble. <<else>> She grins suddenly. "Perhaps they'll both have to go. That kind of mission can't be run solo, after all: there has to be a backup team. Wouldn't that be a perfect bonding experience for the two of them?" <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "brionysillytalk">>

Briony looks at you playfully, her long lashes tangling with the pink fringe of her bangs. "Even if I <i>had</i> gone, <<c firstname>>, anything I would have done there would have been for work," she says in a coy, teasing voice. "But I have to admit, I do like the thought of you getting a bit jealous over me!" <<include "brionysillytalk">>

"I know, all right, I <i>know</i>!" Briony dabs her eyes in mock-despair and adds, "But it's not my fault, <<c firstname>>. I have <i>no</i> experience. None whatsoever. How am I supposed to act flirtatious and seductive when I have nothing to go off of except novels and plays?" <<nobr>><<if $brionyromanceflag gte 12>> You smile, thinking back on some of the intimate moments the two of you have shared together. "You don't seem to have had any trouble so far." <<else>> You smile, thinking on the natural, easygoing way Briony seems to interact with everybody; it certainly hasn't prevented certain goggle-eyed recruits from staring after her with moony, limpid gazes. "You don't seem to have had any trouble so far." <</if>><</nobr>> "That's when I'm not thinking about it," Briony grumbles. "But when I'm in a situation where I <i>do</i> have to think about it, suddenly I trip all over myself. It's the same with fighting... I'm fine when I'm not thinking about it, totally out-of-sorts if I try to break down what I'm doing in any sort of analytical way. Operating solely by unthinking instinct seems to be the story of my life, I suppose." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"It sounds like you just need some practice. I happily volunteer." <b>[FLIRT]</b> </div>' 'autogenerated_67982'>><<set $brionyromanceflag += 1>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Don't worry. I think you're charming exactly as you are."</div>' 'autogenerated_67983'>><<setbriony +1>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"It sounds like you just need to fall in love, gain some real-world experience! What's your type, anyway?"</div>' 'briony_discuss_type'>><<setbriony +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Briony blinks at you for a moment, clearly taken off-guard, before she snorts and shakes her head. "You are such a <i>flatterer</i>," she mutters, then gives a half-exasperated laugh. "I don't know how you <i>do</i> that. And so easily!" "Like I said, you just need practice," you purr. "And that, I can provide." Briony lifts her eyebrows at you, though you sense she's struggling not to blush. "With the flirtation part, or the... the seduction part?" <<include 'brionypracticetalk'>>

<<nobr>><<if $brionyromanceflag gte 10>> <<set $brionyromanceflag += 3>> <</if>> Briony grins, <<if $brionyromanceflag gte 10>> though her cheeks turn as rosy as two pink apples. <<else>> nudging you playfully. <</if>><</nobr>> "Thank you, $firstname," she chirrups. "I don't have to worry about what anyone else thinks so long as I have you!" <<include 'brionysillytalk'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Either?"</div>' 'briony_flirt_response'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Both?"</div>' 'briony_flirt_response'>><<setcharisma +1>><<setcourage +1>><<set $brionyromanceflag += 2>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"The flirtation, of course."</div>' 'briony_flirt_response'>><<setcharisma +1>><<set $brionyromanceflag -= 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"The seduction, of course."</div>' 'briony_flirt_response'>><<setcourage +1>><<set $brionyromanceflag += 1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"Oh, $firstname!" Not seeming to know what to say, Briony hastily downs her drink instead of giving a coherent reply, gulping audibly as she does so. <<include "brionysillytalk">>

Briony cracks a wide, girlish grin. "My type?" She makes a show of twirling her hair around her finger as she kicks her feet theatrically. "Hmmm, I haven't had much time to really formulate it, but I suppose I'm attracted to... people who are empathetic, not callous, and they're also pretty good at reading people's emotions and the room? Sometimes I think someone's cute, but then they say something totally dense and oblivious, like bringing up someone's ex-lover when it's clearly not the right time to be doing that, and then when things get awkward, they look around like, 'What did I say?' I'm a pretty sensitive person myself, so I think I'm more drawn to people who just <i>get</i> it instead of having to be told and coached along, at least when it comes to obvious feelings." She thinks on it more, then grins impishly. "...And, of course, tall and good-looking doesn't hurt! And I like a lover who makes me feel all safe and protected. That might sound funny coming from a muscle-girl like me, but there you have it." <<nobr>><<if $aroace is false>> Suddenly she looks keenly at you. "And what about you? What's <i>your</i> type?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I like scholarly, intellectual types."</div>' 'autogenerated_67984'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I like brave, athletic types."</div>' 'autogenerated_67985'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I like charming, charismatic types."</div>' 'autogenerated_67986'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I like cunning, resourceful types."</div>' 'autogenerated_67987'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I like sweet, innocent types."</div>' 'autogenerated_67988'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I like cool, serious types."</div>' 'autogenerated_67989'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I like witty, sarcastic types."</div>' 'autogenerated_67990'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I like headstrong, rebellious types."</div>' 'autogenerated_67991'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I like sophisticated, posh types."</div>' 'autogenerated_67992'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I like quiet, relaxed types."</div>' 'autogenerated_67993'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I like dark, brooding types."</div>' 'autogenerated_67994'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I like graceful, mature types."</div>' 'autogenerated_67995'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I like flirtatious, flattering types."</div>' 'autogenerated_67996'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I like bubbly, cheerful types."</div>' 'autogenerated_67997'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I like grumpy, standoffish types."</div>' 'autogenerated_67998'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I like dangerous, even evil types."</div>' 'autogenerated_67999'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I like them pathetic. As pathetic as I can get."</div>' 'autogenerated_68000'>><</link>> <<if $brionyromanceflag gte 15>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"You're my type, Briony."</div>' 'autogenerated_68001'>><<set $brionyromanceflag += 10>><</link>><</if>> </div><</nobr>> <<else>> <<include "brionysillytalk">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $redromanceflag gte 10>> <<set $redromanceflag += 1>> Briony rolls her eyes. "No surprise there..." <<elseif $rielromanceflag gte 10>> <<set $rielromanceflag += 1>> Briony rolls her eyes. "No surprise there..." <<elseif $sheryromanceflag gte 15>> <<set $sheryromanceflag += 1>> Briony squeals a little before pressing her lips together hastily. "I see..." <<else>> Briony nods attentively. "I see..." <</if>><</nobr>> You talk for a while longer before the conversation turns back to other things. <<include 'brionysillytalk'>>

<<nobr>><<if $troubleromanceflag gte 10>> <<set $troubleromanceflag += 1>> Briony rolls her eyes. "No surprise there..." <<elseif $aylaromanceflag gte 10>> <<set $aylaromanceflag += 1>> Briony squeals a little. "You mean like Ay—" She hastily clears her throat. "I mean, never mind. Tell me more..." <br><br> You talk for a while longer before the conversation turns back to other things. <<elseif $brionyromanceflag gte 20>> <<set $brionyromanceflag += 1>> Briony smiles, but doesn't seem to have any particular comments about that... <<else>> Briony nods attentively. "I see... I mean, I certainly wouldn't turn my nose up at someone like that..." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'brionysillytalk'>>

<<nobr>><<if $chaseromanceflag gte 10 or $chasesex>> <<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>> Briony rolls her eyes. "No surprise there..." <<elseif $lavinetromanceflag gte 10>> <<set $lavinetromanceflag += 1>> Briony grins. "Oh?" she asks slyly, her eyes glinting with a sudden mischief. "I hadn't noticed..." <<else>> Briony nods attentively. "I see... I like that type, too, but wouldn't you ever feel a bit jealous of all of the attention they draw?" <br><br> You talk for a while more before the conversation turns back to other things. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'brionysillytalk'>>

<<nobr>><<if $rielromanceflag gte 10>> <<set $rielromanceflag += 1>> Briony snorts. "No surprise there..." <<elseif $chaseromanceflag gte 10 or $chasesex>> <<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>> Briony snorts. "No surprise there..." <<else>> Briony nods attentively. "I see..." <</if>><</nobr>> You talk for a while longer before the conversation turns back to other things. <<include 'brionysillytalk'>>

<<nobr>><<if $sheryromanceflag gte 12>> <<set $sheryromanceflag += 4>> Briony muffles a squeal. "So you mean Sh—" She hastily clears her throat. "I mean, never mind. Tell me more..." You talk for a while longer before the conversation turns back to other things. <<else>> Briony nods attentively. "I see..." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'brionysillytalk'>>

<<nobr>><<if $tallysromanceflag gte 10 or $tallyssex>> <<set $tallysromanceflag += 1>> Briony snickers. "Oh, really? I hadn't noticed..." <<elseif $bladeromanceflag gte 20>> Briony snickers. "Oh, really? I hadn't noticed. I daresay those 'types' like you back..." <<else>> Briony nods attentively. "I see..." <</if>><</nobr>> You talk for a while longer before the conversation turns back to other things. <<include 'brionysillytalk'>>

Briony nods attentively. "I see..." You talk for a while longer before the conversation turns back to other things. <<include 'brionysillytalk'>>

<<nobr>><<if $troubleromanceflag gte 20>> <<set $troubleromanceflag += 1>> Briony outright snorts. "We all know who you're talking about," she mutters. "And I daresay he likes you back!" <<elseif $aylaromanceflag gte 10>> <<set $aylaromanceflag += 1>> Briony muffles a squeal. "You mean like Ay—" She hastily clears her throat. "I mean, never mind. Tell me more..." <<else>> Briony nods attentively. "I see..." <</if>><</nobr>> You talk for a while longer before the conversation turns back to other things. <<include 'brionysillytalk'>>

<<nobr>><<if $rielromanceflag gte 15>> <<set $rielromanceflag += 1>> Briony rolls her eyes. "You can just say Riel," she says with a slight snicker. <<elseif $lavinetromanceflag gte 10>> <<set $lavinetromanceflag += 1>> Briony looks at you slyly. "So, Lavinet?" she says in a sing-song voice. "Do tell..." <<else>> Briony nods attentively. "I see..." <</if>><</nobr>> You talk for a while longer before the conversation turns back to other things. <<include 'brionysillytalk'>>

<<nobr>><<if $tallysromanceflag gte 15 or $tallyssex>> <<set $tallysromanceflag += 1>> "Hmm, yes, I daresay you do," Briony remarks, arching her brows. <<elseif $halek gte 80>> "Sooo, Halek?" Briony cocks her head. "It's too bad he's engaged, huh? Who else fits that bill...?" <<else>> Briony nods attentively. "Yes, those types are very comfortable to be around, aren't they? Tell me more..." <</if>><</nobr>> You talk for a while longer before the conversation turns back to other things. <<include 'brionysillytalk'>>

<<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 20>> <<set $bladeromanceflag += 1>> Briony outright snorts. "You can just say his name!" she says teasingly. "Though I daresay that 'type' likes you right back..." <<else>> "Oh, I can see the appeal!" Briony says with a laugh. "Tell me more..." <</if>><</nobr>> You talk for a while longer before the conversation turns back to other things. <<include 'brionysillytalk'>>

<<nobr>><<if $tallysromanceflag gte 15 or $tallyssex>> <<set $tallysromanceflag += 1>> "Hmm, yes, I daresay you do," Briony remarks, arching her brows with a grin. <<else>> Briony sighs enviously. "Yes, I can see that. Tell me more..." <</if>><</nobr>> You talk for a while longer before the conversation turns back to other things. <<include 'brionysillytalk'>>

<<nobr>><<if $chaseromanceflag gte 15 or $chasesex>> <<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>> Briony laughs. "Oh, <<c firstname>>, of course you do!" she says teasingly. <<elseif $lavinetromanceflag gte 10>> <<set $lavinetromanceflag += 1>> Briony laughs. "I can see that," she says teasingly. <<else>> Briony laughs. <</if>> "But how do you stop yourself from getting awfully jealous?..." <</nobr>> You talk for a while longer before the conversation turns back to other things. <<include 'brionysillytalk'>>

<<nobr>><<if $brionyromanceflag gte 10>> <<set $brionyromanceflag += 3>> Briony, her chin in her hands, suddenly turns crimson. "Ah, really?" she laughs, though she suddenly can't meet your gaze. Still, she seems quite pleased. "I never would have guessed..." <<else>> Briony grins. "Really? I never would have guessed..." <</if>><</nobr>> You talk for a while longer before the conversation turns back to other things. <<include 'brionysillytalk'>>

<<nobr>><<if $prihineromance is true>> Briony laughs. "Like Lavinet's cousin? That's the first person who comes to mind..." <<else>> Briony laughs. "Really? Tell me, what's the appeal?" <</if>><</nobr>> You talk for a while longer before the conversation turns back to other things. <<include 'brionysillytalk'>>

Briony gives you a strange look. "<<c firstname>>, be serious!" "What? I am." "What <i>evil</i> types are you even talking about?" You talk for a while longer before the conversation turns back to other things. <<include 'brionysillytalk'>>

"I want them to remind me of a wet cat," you finish. Briony gives you a strange look. "...<<c firstname>>, be serious." "What? I am." "Stop it, that's not a thing!" "Sweet Briony. Of course it is." "No!" <<include 'brionysillytalk'>>

Briony, her chin in her hands, suddenly turns crimson. There's a long, speechless pause as you both stare at each other before she abruptly looks away. "Me? Really?" She says it in such a small, shy voice that you almost wonder if you imagined her saying it. But when she looks at you again, her gaze is so direct and searching—as if to see if you're really telling the truth or whether you're simply being facetious—that you can't help but feel your heart turn over in your chest. Something important seems to pass through the air between you. Briony looks away again with a small smile. When she speaks again, her tone is light and playful, as if you never made the comment... but you can tell she's enormously pleased. <<include 'brionysillytalk'>>

"And anyway, how are <i>you</i> so good at it?" she demands. You blink. "Good at what?" "The whole—talking to people thing, and flirting, and persuading people, and all those things! You're positively magnetic! <<nobr>> <<if $rank is "Commander">> You're Commander-Legate, after all: your people skills are off the charts!" <<else>> Everyone who meets you seems to fall head over heels for you!" <</if>><</nobr>> <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You grin. You <i>are</i> a practiced flirt. "It's a combination of skill, confidence, and natural talent, I suppose."</div>' 'autogenerated_68002'>><<setcharisma +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You smile modestly. "I don't think I'm any better or worse than the average person..."</div>' 'briony_charisma_check'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You bark out an incredulous laugh. "You must be thinking of someone else. I'm hopeless at that sort of thing. Absolutely abysmal."</div>' 'briony_charisma_check'>><<setcharisma -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You shake your head. "However it may seem, I have absolutely no interest in that sort of thing."</div>' 'autogenerated_68003'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Briony sighs with envy. "Teach me your ways, <<nobr>><<if $gender is "female">> mistress!" <<else>> master!" <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'briony_shopping'>>

Briony gives you a doubtful look. "Really? Well, you certainly seem to have a way with words..." <<include 'briony_shopping'>>

<<nobr>> <<if $charisma gte 75>> Briony gives you a comically disbelieving-look. "<<c firstname>>," she says slowly, "if your natural charisma were a number floating above your head, I'm positive it would be close to 100. You could talk a wolf into skinning itself. I'm surprised that you can't see it!" <<else>> Briony gives you a doubtful look. "Really? I've always thought you were very gifted. You certainly seem to have a way with words…" <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "briony_shopping">>

<<nobr>><<if $brionyromanceflag < 10 and $briony >= 75>><<set $brionystatus to "Your easy friendship is flourishing, though Briony's past casts a shadow on the fun.">><</if>><</nobr>>The two of you continue to talk in animated tones for some time, covering a broad range of topics that change easily as the moment dictates. Eventually, however, you stop ordering drinks, your bellies too full to accommodate anything more, and finally Briony rises from her seat with a stretch and announces that she needs to do some shopping in the Market Quarter. She pays for both of your bills and invites you to come along with her, and as you move together into the busy streets once more, the former gladiator keeps up her stream of happy chatter, seemingly as carefree as ever. As you walk, though, you notice how her violet eyes flicker here and there, glancing at the faces around you with more watchfulness than you would normally credit her with. You keep your eyes out too, and you both keep smiling when you glance at each other—but that burly stranger, the one you know you're both on the lookout for, never makes a reappearance again. <<include "brionyover">>

<<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "dayoff">><<set $brionytime += 1>><</link>>

<<audio ":playing" fadeoverto 5 0>> <<if $cainetime is 0>> <<include "caineinterlude1">> <<elseif $cainetime is 1>> <<include "caineinterlude2">> <<elseif $cainetime is 2>> <<include "caineinterlude3">> <<elseif $cainetime is 3>> <<include "caineinterlude4">> <<else>> [This section is INCOMPLETE. Sorry for the inconvenience!] <br><br> <<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "dayoff">><<set $dayoff -= 1>><</link>> <</if>>

You catch Caine just as he's hurrying somewhere, clutching a burlap sack nearly bigger than he is. "Oh, <<c firstname>>," he says breathlessly. "Hello! I'd love to stay and chat, but I've got to—er—<<if $rieljoin is true>>polish Riel's shoes, it's really urgent and he asked me to do it right now—"<<else>>dust the Commander's swords, it's really urgent and he asked me to do it right now—"<</if>> <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $rieljoin is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Squint at him suspiciously. Riel would never allow a child to go near his shoes, let alone clean them.</div>' 'autogenerated_68004'>><<setriel +1>><</link>><</if>> <<if $rieljoin is false>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Squint at him suspiciously. Blade would never allow a child to go near the swords on his office wall, let alone clean them.</div>' 'cainebladeconfront'>><<setblade +1>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Go along with it cheerily. "Oh, great, I'll join you. I have nothing better to do."</div>' 'autogenerated_68005'>><<setcunning +2>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Pat him on the head. "You're such a great worker! So helpful! I'm really proud of you!"</div>' 'autogenerated_68006'>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Stare at him expectantly.</div>' 'autogenerated_68007'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Caine grins sheepishly. "All right, so he didn't tell me <i>exactly</i>, but I'd bet he'd like it if I did!" You think of the look of quiet apoplexy on Riel's face and shake your head. "What are you <i>really</i> up to?" <<include 'cainereveal'>>

Caine's face drains of color; he obviously wasn't expecting you to call his bluff. "Er," he mutters. "Uh—never mind, I just remembered… I already did that. Yeah, that's right, I forgot." You sigh. "What are you <i>really</i> up to?" <<include 'cainereveal'>>

Caine's face instantly morphs into one of guilt. "All right, fine, that wasn't what I was really doing," he says sulkily. "You win." You smile to yourself. "So what were you really up to?" <<include 'cainereveal'>>

Caine withers under the power of your withering adult stare. "All right, fine, that wasn't what I was really doing," he says sulkily. "You win." You smile to yourself. "So what were you really up to?" <<include 'cainereveal'>>

Caine grins sheepishly. "All right, so he didn't exactly, but I'd bet he'd like it if I did!" You think of Blade's face of appalled apoplexy and shake your head. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Those swords are sharp, Caine. Don't mess with them."</div>' 'autogenerated_68008'>><<setintelligence +1>><<setloyal +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Blade would not want you messing around in his office, Caine."</div>' 'autogenerated_68009'>><<setblade +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"What are you <i>really</i> up to?"</div>' 'cainereveal'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

He heaves a dramatic sigh. "All right, all right." "What are you <i>really</i> up to?" <<include 'cainereveal'>>

He thinks on it a moment, then cracks a grin and beckons you to follow him. "I'll show you!" <<page_break "Next" "cainealley">>

Minutes later, you find yourself standing in one of the side alleyways bordering the compound, a cramped little space that smells of sweet-sickly garbage and cooking meat from the restaurant on the corner. Caine heaves his enormous burlap sack onto the ground and upturns it, spilling an enormous pile of kibble into a bowl that's way too small to hold such a mountain of food. "Trouble asked me to feed his dog—well, it's a stray, but it's pretty much his dog—while he was away for that mission to Luxue, and now I'm in charge of doing it all the time," Caine announces importantly. He dusts the front of his pants off before sitting down on the little stoop that leads into the compound, hugging his knees and staring at the end of the alley with infinite patience. Already you can tell he's gotten a tiny bit taller than he was when you first met him. "Sometimes it takes ages for ol' Good Boy to show up, but it's worth it just to see the look on his face!" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"'Good Boy'?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68010'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Where did you get all this food?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68011'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Do you really have to wait here the whole time? If it's a stray dog, it could be days until it shows up."</div>' 'autogenerated_68012'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"That's way too much food for him, Caine. He might get sick."</div>' 'autogenerated_68013'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"Well, Trouble says he doesn't have a name," Caine says, "but he calls him Dog, and sometimes I do, too. But sometimes he's more like a Good Boy." <<include 'cainetalk15'>>

"I bought it with my earnings," he says, as if this were very obvious. <<nobr>><<if $chasejoin is true>>"Chase helped me carry it from the feeder. It's the same food they give the big ahfuri in the cattery—one of the stablehands, Jeb, gave me a big discount."<<else>>"Shery helped me carry it from the feeder. It's the same food they give the big ahfuri in the cattery—one of the stablehands, Jeb, gave me a big discount."<</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'cainetalk15'>>

"It's never more than a few hours," Caine says blithely. "I think he checks here every day. I have to keep watch until he gets here, elsewise the alleycats try to steal the food." <<include 'cainetalk15'>>

"Oh, no, he eats like a hog," Caine says brightly. "Like his stomach doesn't got a bottom—sometimes Trouble calls him Fat-Ass. Er, I mean—Fat Butt. Anyway, he's a stray dog, so I figure's he doesn't get a lot of food during the day—this is the only time he gets to tuck in and store it all up for later." <<include 'cainefoodchoices'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"That's sweet of you, but if the dog's survived this long, he has steady sources of food elsewhere. You don't want to over-feed him."</div>' 'autogenerated_68014'>><<setintelligence +1>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Well, you know your dog, so you know best..."</div>' 'autogenerated_68015'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Don't cuss."</div>' 'autogenerated_68016'>><<setloyal +2>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Caine wrinkles his nose, skeptical, but he nods. "All right, if you say so." He sighs. "I guess Trouble doesn't feed him this much, either. I don't want him actually getting fat." He scoops most of the kibble back into the bag, leaving a more manageable portion in the bowl. <<include 'cainetalk15'>>

Caine grins. "Yeah! He's got to get big and strong, so he needs plenty of food. Like me!" <<include 'cainetalk15'>>

"I didn't," Caine says automatically; but he seems to know you caught him. <<include 'cainetalk15'>>

You sit next to him on the stoop, and for a while you content yourselves with talking idly while you wait for the stray dog to show up. <<include "cainetalk1">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("caineshepherds")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"How are you liking your life with the Shepherds?"</div>' 'caineshepherds'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("cainehal")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"How is Hal doing?"</div>' 'cainehal'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("cainepay")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"So what else are you saving up your pay for?"</div>' 'cainepay'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("cainefeeding")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Do you feed Good Boy every day? How can you afford to wait for hours?"</div>' 'cainefeeding'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("cainehug")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">Hug him.</div>' 'cainehug'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You talk for a while longer, looking for the dog.</div>' 'cainewait'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if ($childrenquarantined is true) and ($part < 5)>> "I love it," Caine says excitedly. "I can't thank you enough again for getting me in, <<c firstname>>. It's the best! And I like looking after the other kids. They're really nice, and they seem pretty happy here. <<if $rikaalive is true>>I really like that girl, Rika! She's smart as a pin. And there's always so many fun things to do, and see, and everyone's real swell…"<<else>>Shery's real nice, too. I heard Tallys calling us a bunch of 'loud buzzers' and Shery shushed her…" <</if>> <br><br> He chatters on rapidly for a while, never seeming to run out of breath. <<else>> "I love it," Caine says excitedly. "I can't thank you enough again for getting me in, <<c firstname>>! It's the best! Shery's real nice and she teaches me all sorts of clever things. And she's way more patient than my old schoolteachers used to be. And Trouble and <<if $rieljoin is true>>Chase are really funny, and they're always bothering Riel, <<else>>Tallys are really cool,<</if>> and the Commander's the absolute <i>coolest,</i> and…" <br><br> He chatters on rapidly for a while, never seeming to run out of breath. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "cainetalk1">>

"Way better," Caine says enthusiastically. "He's pretty much back to normal! He's back to work at the woolery, and now Master Zatani walks him and the other apprentices home. He comes to visit every other day or so, and he's really grateful! He hides whenever you walk by, but that's just 'cause he's shy. <<nobr>><<if $childrenquarantined is true>>He plays with me and the other kids too, when they're not in class or with their parents. Just stupid games like Climb the Eye of the World and stuff like that, but it keeps the little ones happy. <<if $rikaalive is true>>You know, I sort of think he has a crush on Rika, and maybe she has one on him too, but he punches me when I ask him about it, and I don't really get that…"<<else>>You know, one of them told me they have a way better life here than they do at home! Three square meals and everything, can you imagine…"<</if>><<else>>And you know, I think his mom said she'd do you and Trouble's laundry for the rest of your lives, but Trouble told her no and she cried a lot. I don't know why he'd do that, because if someone said they'd do <i>my</i> dirty shorts for the rest of my life, I'd take it up in a heartbeat…"<</if>><</nobr>> He talks himself out of breath for a while and greedily gulps down some water from his canteen. <<include "cainetalk1">>

You know he can't be paid that much, but compared to a lot of other apprentices, he must feel like a king. "A gun," Caine says blithely. "I'm saving up for a really big one. Trouble says he'll teach me how to shoot it if I can buy one of my own. I asked why I couldn't just use one of the ones in the armory, but he said I was getting too big for my britches if I thought I could handle one of those." Oh, $god. <<include "cainetalk1">>

"I'm not working around the clock," Caine says in a dignified manner. "There's not that much stuff for me to do, so I get lots of breaks. Shery says it's good for me to have time to be a kid and have fun." "And this is your idea of fun?" "Sometimes, yeah!" <<include "cainetalk1">>

<<setcompassionate +3>>You wrap your arms around him and squeeze Caine tight against your chest, and although he's startled, the boy allows it with an embarrassed grunt. "Um, <<c firstname>>?" he asks after a moment, his voice muffled against your shoulder. "What are you doing?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You're just so cute, I can't resist!"</div>' 'autogenerated_68017'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm just... glad you're here, Caine."</div>' 'autogenerated_68018'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I just feel like you're growing up. I've got to get my hugs in before you get too old to let me."</div>' 'autogenerated_68019'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

You feel terribly fond of him, this chattering boy with flyaway curls and scabby knees; he always seems to have a smudge of dirt somewhere on his face, but he smells of powdery, clean <i>boy</i>, almost like a baby still. He wriggles out of your embrace and rubs his nose, looking deeply humiliated. The tips of his ears are beet-red. "Gross!" <<include 'cainetalk1'>>

Holding him and breathing in his dusty boy smell, you're filled with a strange, sudden sense of melancholy. What would have happened if you hadn't saved him at the church? He wouldn't be here, and… the thought fills you with an unbearable loneliness. Caine stares up at you like an affronted owl. "What?" he asks, embarrassed. "Please—don't get all teary! Are you going to cry?" It's clear he's at a total loss of what to do, so you release him and take in a deep, steadying breath. "Never mind." <<include 'cainetalk1'>>

Caine squirms out of your embrace, embarrassed. "That's weird, <<c firstname>>!" You laugh. "See? Like that." <<include 'cainetalk1'>>

When it doesn't show up, Caine heaves another sigh. "He'll be here soon," he says, his voice full of longing. "It's worth the wait." You look at him curiously. "Why are you so entranced by this dog, anyway?" Saving up his pay for dog food, waiting around for hours just to get a glimpse of this common mutt… Caine seems awfully attached to this stray already. He kicks a pebble with his shoe. "I always liked feeding the 'van dogs," he mumbles. "And my mom never let us have a pet, so…" You realize you've never really heard Caine talk about his family. He talked a lot about the caravan and its merchants, but where he came from before he was apprenticed to Ebert, you're not sure. "Where are you from, Caine?" you ask him. "Where's your mother?" For a moment, it almost seems as if he might not answer: an unusual reaction in such a talkative boy. Then he says in a rush: "If I tell you, will you promise not to tell anyone else?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I promise."</div>' 'cainestory'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I really doubt anyone's going to be that interested in this, Caine."</div>' 'cainestory'>><<setcompassionate -3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Just tell me."</div>' 'cainestory'>><<setcharisma -1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

He sighs again. "Well, it's kind of a long story," Caine begins. "My mom… well, her name's Oleandra. She was the daughter of this really rich trader, the head of a whole trading house named after us. The Tavadon Syndicate." He tastes the words like they're slow-melting candy, then shakes his head. "Anyway, before I was born, she got engaged to some nobleman in the South, in Leore, I think. She was supposed to travel all the way there to meet him and get married. Her dad—my granddad—hired a bodyguard to take her there, make sure bandits or demons didn't kill her before the wedding. Kind of like you and Prihine!" Pretty much <i>exactly</i> like you and Prihine. "Except, unlike you guys, that man became my dad. The bodyguard, I mean. The bodyguard was my dad." <<nobr>><<if $prihineromance is true>> You think back to your passionate night with Prihine before shaking your head. The parallels are a bit too eerie to think about too closely. There just must be a thing about bodyguards and the betrothed noblewomen they escort to their weddings. Oblivious to your thoughts, Caine falls silent for a while, contemplative. <<else>> He falls silent, contemplative for a while. <</if>><</nobr>> "I only found this out—oh, maybe a year or two ago. My whole life, I always wondered who my father was. Whether he was a bad man, and that's why she wouldn't talk about him, or maybe if he was dead. We fought about it a lot, me and my mom." He shakes his head, his curly hair bouncing with the movement. "Anyway, I guess it was on that trip that my mom got pregnant with me. My dad didn't know and he went off on his next bodyguarding job, that's what my mom said. I like to think he wouldn't have left if he knew I was on the way. But I dunno. She still doesn't say much about him. Maybe she doesn't even know that much. He was just her bodyguard, after all." He shrugs. "So's I guess the wedding was delayed for a few months, money or something. But my mom was already pregnant with me, and it showed. Her family didn't want nothing to do with us then, and neither's did her husband-to-be, or whoever. So she was left all by herself, with no money and a little baby and no idea how to work in the world." "What about your father?" you ask him. "Your real one, the bodyguard?" "Oh, he died," Caine says flatly. "'Bout three weeks after he left my mom in Leore, she said. An attack on the road. Either bandits or Endarkened, they didn't know." <<page_break "Next" "cainestory2">>

He gets up and begins to pace up and down the alley. "Mom tried her best, but she didn't really know how to do a lot of things; she'd been brought up so rich that all the servants done it for her. She did her best, though, and I figured some things out when I was older too, mostly from watching the neighborhood kids and their parents, and we scraped by." He shrugs. "Eventually I started 'pprenticing myself out to earn more money, and Mom was left at home in Kinley. It worked for a while, but then…" He trails off. "But then?" you prompt, after a few moments of silence. Caine sighs. "Well, I'm kind of fuzzy on this part, but I guess she somehow met this other noble? Lycoris Kinpol. He's the lord-governor of Lindell." You stare. Lindell is the Westernmost city in the entire Autarchy: it's where the most modern Norm inventions and medicines are pioneered, but it's also something of an untamed territory. The lord-governor of that place is said to be an extremely powerful man. "Anyway, he wanted to marry her, and so-on and so-forth, so all's a sudden I'm getting this letter to come back home to Kinley. I get there and our whole house is sold, along with all our stuff! And all of a sudden I'm packaged up like a mule-box, getting trundled all the way to Lindell by the Kinley Traders. That's how I met them, you know: Nilus and everyone else. We hitched a ride with them for protection." The Kinley Traders, of course, was the name of the caravan that you and Caine were traveling with while you escorted Prihine from Brunen to Haven. "So where is your mother now?" "In Lindell," Caine answers blandly. "With Lycoris. They got married, and I was there for a bit, but…" He pauses. "I, er, didn't really like the life in the palace. Too stuffy. Too boring. You couldn't even fart without some tutor yelling at you for bad manners." He grimaces. "And… I kinda got the feeling that Lycoris… didn't like me so much. And I didn't like him. So I figured it was better to go my own way." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"And your mother let you?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68020'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Why didn't you like Lycoris?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68021'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Well, you're better off here, anyway."</div>' 'autogenerated_68022'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm glad you're here, then."</div>' 'autogenerated_68023'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"If Lycoris is so rich and powerful, though, why do you have to work? Can't he just send you money?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68024'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"No offense, but... your mother doesn't sound like the greatest parent. She shouldn't have married Lycoris if he didn't like you."</div>' 'autogenerated_68025'>><<setcharisma -4>><<setcunning +1>><<setcourage +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"Well, she didn't like it," Caine says, scratching his cheek. "But I was either gonna run away, or they were going to keep me there by force and I'd hate them. She saw the sense in that and let me go after that." <<include 'cainemother'>>

"Just didn't," he says breezily. It's clear he doesn't want to discuss the topic in detail. <<include 'cainemother'>>

He beams. "Damn right," Caine says. Then he claps a hand over his mouth. "Uh… darn right, I mean." <<include 'cainemother'>>

He beams at you. "Me, too!" <<include 'cainemother'>>

"I don't want it," Caine answers. "I just send it right back. I <i>like</i> working. And now I get to keep my pay all to myself, instead of worrying about sending it back to my mom. It'd be boring, sitting around and not doing anything and getting paid for it. And besides, if it were like that, I wouldn't have started working here!" You think about how Caine could just work here for free, for the fun of it, while receiving ten times the pay from his stepfather, but apparently the thought hasn't occurred to him. <<include 'cainemother'>>

Caine frowns at you: it might be the first time you've ever seen him wear that expression around you. "My mom is my mom," he says defensively. "And she did her best, all right? We still write loads of letters to each other, and—and—she really loves me! She can love Lycoris, too. We don't have to like each other so long as she loves both of us." He looks at you, chin jutted out and his eyes partly defiant. It's clearly a sore subject with him, so you back off. <<include 'cainemother'>>

"What does your mother think about you joining the Shepherds?" you ask him. But Caine suddenly shoots to his feet. "GOOD BOY!" he shouts. There's a flash of gold and brown at the end of the alleyway as something takes off sprinting into the street, apparently terrified. Caine takes off after it, leaving you behind in the dust with only a puzzled smile and your questions. <<include "caineover">>

You go looking for Caine, and you catch him slinking through a side-gate into the compound, headed to his room. He ducks guiltily when you spot him, and it's no time at all before you see what he's trying to hide: Caine is riddled with bruises, sporting a swelling eye and a nasty split lip. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"What <i>happened</i>?!"</div>' 'cainereaction'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"WHO DID THAT."</div>' 'cainereaction'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Are you okay?"</div>' 'cainereaction'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Ouch. That looks nasty."</div>' 'cainereaction'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"I'm okay," Caine mutters, looking away from you. "'S nothing." "What happened?" You fold your arms when he looks away, clearly concocting a lie in his head. He scratches his ear, then winces in pain at the contact. "Um… I fell? Down some stairs?" You stare at him stonily until he caves. "I was just out with my friends," Caine mutters. "And—you know, there are some stupid other kids—they're so <i>stupid</i>—and they been talking kak about the Shepherds! And I couldn't let it stand. They been throwing tomatoes in the compound, you know?" <<nobr>><<if $bladetime >= 1>> You remember being in the courtyard with Blade when one such tomato was thrown. So <i>that's</i> who's been behind this? Some rival urchins of Caine's? <<else>> You've been noticing some rotting fruit here and there in the courtyards, but you just thought that was recruits being messy and forgetting their lunch… <</if>><</nobr>> "And they can't <i>do</i> that," Caine continues in an aggrieved tone, working himself now up into a fury. He wipes his cut lip with the back of his hand. "You and the Commander and Trouble an' <i>everyone</i> protect everybody! You fight hard and get hurt just so's the city can be safe! And <i>they</i> can't say bad stuff about you an'—an' throw <i>tomatoes</i>! I won't let 'em! So's me and my friends, we warned them three times, and they still didn't stop. So Tym, that's Hal's friend, he can spit so far, twenty feet if he wants to—he climbed into their boat once, and we had a mud war with them the other day and we <i>pelted</i> them and chased them down to the canals, and they still didn't stop! So I—so I—" He trails off, panting, and you connect the dots. These kids pushed Caine to his limit, and he engaged at least one of them in a brawl to defend the Shepherds' honor. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"...Did you win, at least?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68026'>><<setcompassionate -3>><<setloyal -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Caine, I appreciate it, but I don't want you getting hurt on our account. We can fight our own battles."</div>' 'autogenerated_68027'>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Come on. You can tell me more after we get you to the infirmary."</div>' 'caineinfirmary'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Caine blinks; then his face splits into a bloody smile. "Yeah," he says proudly. "I won, all right. They won't be bothering us again." <<include 'caineinfirmary'>>

You watch as his bruised little face deflates. "Huh? But… I beat 'em. They won't bother us again!" You shake your head and gesture to him. "Come on. Let's get you seen to, first." <<include 'caineinfirmary'>>

You do the responsible thing and bring Caine to the infirmary to ensure he doesn't have anything worse than external bruises and cuts. <<nobr>><<if $specialization is "healer">> <<setmagic +1>> <<setastral +1>> <<if ($benir is true) or ($benirsabotage is true)>> Benir Roxak hurries over to see to him, <<else>> The Healer on shift hurries over to see to him, <</if>> but you wave him off and examine the boy yourself, sitting him on a high cot and healing his wounds with a few sparks of magic. <<else>> <<if ($benir is true) or ($benirsabotage is true)>> Benir Roxak hurries over to see to him, <<else>> The Healer on shift hurries over to see to him, <</if>> and it's no time at all before his cuts are bandaged and salve has been applied to his wounds. <</if>><</nobr>> Immediately afterward, Caine blurts: "Can you teach me how to fight?" You stare at him. "Is that really what you want? Are you going to pull a weapon on those kids the next time they bother you?" Caine frowns. "No. But—I ought to learn, shouldn't I? So I can defend myself? Shepherds should know how to fight." You let out a long, slow sigh. <<include "tiesthatbindcaine">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"There are other ways to solve your problems, Caine. Fighting isn't always the solution. There can be smarter ways to go about it."</div>' 'autogenerated_68028'>><<setcunning +5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Fighting is overrated. The real strength is in forgiveness and unity. You need to learn how to solve your problems peacefully, first."</div>' 'autogenerated_68029'>><<setcompassionate +5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'll teach you <i>after</i> you show me these kids. I'm going to give them a little talking-to of my own, first."</div>' 'autogenerated_68030'>><<setcunning +3>><<setcompassionate -10>><<setreputation -3>><<set $cainefight to true>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"No, I'm not going to teach you. You're too young."</div>' 'cainetoyoung'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm not going to teach you because you don't deserve it. You know it hurts the Shepherds if people find out one of our own is fighting kids? Even if you're a kid yourself?"</div>' 'cainereputationlecture'>><<setintelligence +1>><<setcunning +1>><<setcharisma +1>><<setcompassionate -2>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Sure, I'll teach you how to fight. And I'll teach you how to hurt your enemies so bad they'll <i>never</i> think about messing with you again."</div>' 'autogenerated_68031'>><<setcompassionate -10>><<setreputation -5>><<set $cainefight to true>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'll teach how to fight because you need to defend yourself. You're right about that. But you can't use what I teach you on other kids."</div>' 'autogenerated_68032'>><<setcompassionate +10>><<set $cainefight to true>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Yeah, I'll teach you how to fight. You'll need to learn eventually, after all."</div>' 'autogenerated_68033'>><<set $cainefight to true>><<setcunning +1>><</link>> <<if not hasVisited("caineinstructor")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Don't you have your own instructor?"</div>' 'caineinstructor'>><</link>><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<achieve "achieve_ties">><<notify_achievement "Ties That Bind" "Caine will remember that.">><</nobr>>He blinks rapidly. "Like what?" You shake your head. "I'll teach you. But you have to promise to look after yourself. We can't have you getting seriously hurt. Okay?" Caine smiles and nods. "Okay," he says quietly. "I—I promise, <<c firstname>>." And then he beams at you. "Thanks!" <<include 'caineteaching5'>>

<<nobr>><<achieve "achieve_ties">><<notify_achievement "Ties That Bind" "Caine will remember that.">><</nobr>> <<include 'cainepeaceful'>>

<<achieve "darkturn">><<notify_achievement "This took a dark turn." "No one messes with your own. No one.">> <<include 'cainebullies'>>

<<nobr>><<achieve "achieve_ties">><<notify_achievement "Ties That Bind" "Caine will remember that.">><</nobr>> Caine's eyes go wide. "Uh… really?" he says in a hushed whisper. <<include 'caineweaponchoice'>>

<<nobr>><<achieve "achieve_ties">><<notify_achievement "Ties That Bind" "Caine will remember that.">><</nobr>> Caine's eyes go wide. "I promise," he blurts. "I totally promise! I'll never let you down, <<c firstname>>!" <<include 'caineweaponchoice'>>

<<page_break "..." "caineteaching">>

You spend a long time deep in instruction with Caine. Luckily for you, he's a very quick learner. He leaves the session with eyes shining with all kinds of new strategies and ideas. You just hope you're not unleashing some new terror onto the world. <<include "caineover">>

Caine blinks rapidly, then scowls. "What's that mean?" You cross your arms. "It <i>means</i> you need to learn discipline. Forgiveness. It's harder to let insults roll off your back; it's easy to just start swinging, regardless of the consequences. You need to learn how to think." He scowls even more deeply, staring down at his dangling shoes. "So you'll teach me, then?" he mumbles after a moment. "How to… be like you?" You nod, then ruffle his hair. "I will if you're willing to learn." Caine takes a deep breath, then nods. "Okay, <<c firstname>>." He gifts you a small, ragged smile. "Thanks." <<page_break "Next" "cainelessonend">>

You spend a long time deep in instruction with Caine. Luckily for you, he's a very quick learner. He leaves the session with eyes shining with all kinds of new ideas. <<include "caineover">>

<<setreputation -10>> Caine looks at you with wide eyes. "Um… are you going to kill them?" You smile fiercely to yourself. "Oh, no," you say. "I'm just going to make sure they never hurt you again." <<page_break "fadeoutoncainesrivals">>

<span class="next">[[Next|fadeoutoncainesrivals2]]</span></div></center> <<timed 1s>><<goto "fadeoutoncainesrivals2">><</timed>>

<center><div class="dot"> <<timed 1s t8n>> ... <<next>>... <<next>>... <</timed>><span class="next">[[Next|fadeoutoncainesrivals3]]</span></div></center> <<timed 5s>><<goto "fadeoutoncainesrivals3">><</timed>>

Caine's little face falls. "But… weren't you my age when you learned how to fight?" he challenges. "And the Commander said he's been fighting since he was younger than me! And Trouble, <<if $chasejoin is true>>and Chase,<</if>><<if $aylajoin is true>>and Ayla,<</if>> and a lot of people!" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I had to fight because <i>my entire family died</i>, Caine. It's different!"</div>' 'autogenerated_68034'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Blade was a Ket assassin, okay? A child soldier. Trouble was an orphan who had to fight to survive. Are you any of those?"</div>' 'cainedisappointed'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"This isn't a discussion. That's my decision, end of story."</div>' 'cainedisappointed'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Despite yourself, his comment stings, and you can't help but let a little anger leak out into your tone. <<include 'cainedisappointed'>>

Caine's face pales, and he falls moodily silent and turns away. You don't speak again until the infirmary clears him, and he runs off to his room. <<page_break "Next" "sheryadvice">>

Shery, who came into the infirmary to grab some linens, approaches you and sighs. "I'd… leave him alone, if I were you," she says quietly. "He's been looking forward to learning how to fight for some time. I'm sure he's just disappointed." You shake your head. "He seemed angry at me." Shery smiles at you. "He's young," she says gently. "And he idolizes you. I'm sure the next time you see him, everything will go back to normal." You sigh again. <i>I hope so</i>. <<include "caineover">>

<<nobr>><<achieve "achieve_ties">><<notify_achievement "Ties That Bind" "Caine will remember that.">><</nobr>>Caine reels as if you'd struck him. "But—but—!" He catches your expression, and his eyes fill with tears. "No, I was <i>defending</i> the Shepherds!" You fold your arms. "Our reputation is tenuous as it is," you tell him. "If you go around bullying children while wearing the Shepherd colors, how is that going to look to people? You need to think about those kinds of things. You can't just do whatever you want, <i>especially</i> when it comes to violence." Eyes still watering, Caine bows his head in shame before throwing himself off of his cot and running away, presumably to his room. Shery, who came into the infirmary to grab some linens, approaches you and sighs. "I'd… leave him alone, if I were you," she says quietly. "He idolizes you—I'm sure it must sting to be reprimanded when he thought he'd done something praise-worthy. But he'll be fine in a bit." You shake your head. "He seemed angry at me." Shery smiles at you. "He's young," she says gently. "He'll recover and go back to normal by the next time you see him—he'll probably act like this never happened. And one day he'll see that you were right." She makes an encouraging gesture. "And for what it's worth, I think you're completely right. You did a good thing, not bad." You sigh again. <i>I really hope so</i>. <<include "caineover">>

All of the Shepherd recruits, even the youngest, receive basic training from various instructors, often grizzled old battlemasters and masters-at-arms—though they're separated into classes by rank and experience, of course. Caine makes a face. "What, old Erl? All he does is make me pull weeds and wash windows. He says we gotta build my muscles first, but I'm plenty strong!" Erl is one of your resident blacksmiths. You could see him being too busy to give Caine any real combat instruction, but perhaps there's also a method at work here. <<include "tiesthatbindcaine">>

You nod. "What kind of weapon do you envision yourself using?" you ask. Caine's eyes practically light up. "Um, a sword," he blurts. "Or a staff, or a bow… or a bat, or those sticks, you know, like the fighting sticks, escrima or batons or whatever?" You hold up your hands. "Okay, okay. We'll start with…" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">...a bow."</div>' 'autogenerated_68035'>><<set $caineweapon to "bow and arrow">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">...a sword."</div>' 'autogenerated_68036'>><<set $caineweapon to "training sword">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">...a staff."</div>' 'autogenerated_68037'>><<set $caineweapon to "staff">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">...a bat."</div>' 'autogenerated_68038'>><<set $caineweapon to "bat">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">...nightsticks."</div>' 'autogenerated_68039'>><<set $caineweapon to "nightsticks">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">...a sling."</div>' 'autogenerated_68040'>><<set $caineweapon to "sling">><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

A bow will keep him out of range of most attacks: it's a safer weapon to learn than most. <<nobr>><<if $mainweapon is "bow">>Besides, <i>you</i> use a bow, so it will be easy to instruct him in its use.<</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'caineweaponreaction'>>

You'll have to start with a practice sword, but it's the most practical and universal weapon choice for him. <<nobr>><<if $mainweapon is "sword">>Besides, <i>you</i> use a sword, so it will be easy to instruct him in its use.<</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'caineweaponreaction'>>

<<nobr>><<if $aylajoin is true>> While a staff will be less effective in a wide-scale battle—unless you're Ayla—it's a safe weapon for a kid. And you don't expect him to be getting involved in true warfare any time soon. <<else>> While a staff will be less effective in a wide-scale battle, it's a safe weapon for a kid. And you don't expect him to be getting involved in true warfare any time soon. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'caineweaponreaction'>>

While a bat will be less effective in a wide-scale battle, it's a safe weapon for a kid. And you don't expect him to be getting involved in true warfare any time soon. <<include 'caineweaponreaction'>>

Nightsticks—or escrima sticks—are a more niche weapon, but you've seen some Vice Guards using them, and oddly it seems to suit Caine. <<include 'caineweaponreaction'>>

While a sling will be less effective in a wide-scale battle, it's a safe weapon for a kid. And you don't expect him to be getting involved in true warfare any time soon. <<include 'caineweaponreaction'>>

"How does that sound?" you ask him. Caine looks like he's about to cry with joy. He flings his short arms around you. "Thanks, <<c firstname>>," he whispers into your shirt. "You're the best." You ruffle his hair. "We'll see if you're still saying that after I make you run laps." Caine frowns. "I can run laps." You smile grimly. "We'll see." <<page_break "Next" "cainetraining">>

You spend a long time deep in grueling instruction with Caine. Despite the back-breaking work, he begs you to swear you'll continue the sessions again on a regular basis, then crawls off to recover in his room. He still has that big smile on his face all the while, though. <<include "caineover">>

You go looking for Caine and find him at one of his usual haunts: sitting on an unoccupied stoop in one of the cramped alleyways bordering the compound, the one where he first took you to feed his quasi-adopted dog, Good Boy. Some days Caine is so loath to leave the compound—presumably fearing he'll miss out on some momentous event or notable action there—that he'll hover near it on his days off, sticking by closely enough that he can come running on a moment's notice, but still leaving its official perimeters so that he can meet with his various street-urchin friends without getting underfoot. You find him bickering with one such friend, Timo, a short, serious-faced boy with spectacles and bristly, hedgehog-like hair. They're heedless of your approach, and you arrive just in time to find Caine saying in passionate, aggrieved tones, "It's <i>not</i> my fault, I'm an only child, <i>you've</i> got ten kids in your family, so of course <i>you'd</i> know…" "But you've traveled around as an apprentice," Timo snickers. "Surely someone would have told you by now?" They both look up at you when you clear your throat, Caine's face uncharacteristically sullen while Timo looks somewhat startled and guilty. Perhaps fearing retribution from you if he's caught teasing your precious Caine, the other boy rises hastily and excuses himself before fleeing home down the alleyway. You glance back at Caine. "What was that all about?" Caine scowls. "The nice assistant who works at the bakeshop down the way," he mutters, kicking at a rock with unusual vehemence. "She's, you know, about to have a baby. She told us so. So me and Timo got to talking about it, and…" He trails off. "I guess I said I didn't <i>exactly</i> know how that happens. And he was <i>laughing</i> at me." Oh, boy. <<include "cainebirdsandbees">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("caineneverheard")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"No one's ever told you?"</div>' 'caineneverheard'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("cainethoughts")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"How do you think it happens?"</div>' 'cainethoughts'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("cainekindness")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"That wasn't very kind of Timo. He shouldn't tease you for something you can't help."</div>' 'cainekindness'>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("cainemean")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"I mean, it is objectively pretty funny."</div>' 'cainemean'>><<setcompassionate -1>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Finally, he turns to you expectantly. "Do <i>you</i> know how it works?"</div>' 'caineasksdirectly'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Caine casts you another aggrieved glance, evidently gauging whether you're making fun of him, too. You keep your face straight as he answers sulkily, "Not <i>really</i>. My mom didn't before I left home. And it didn't come up in the Kinley Traders. Not exactly a lot of people I could ask, either. S'not like I could ask <b>Ebert</b>." The utter contempt with which he says the meat merchant's name almost makes your lips twitch, but you make sure to maintain your neutral expression. <<include "cainebirdsandbees">>

Caine grimaces at you. "Well, I know the <i>gist</i> of it," he says. "People, you know, kiss and things when they fall in love. Or sometimes just for fun? And then if they want a baby, they pray to the One-God and then Xe gives them a baby if the time is right. I just don't know how it winds up in the lady's stomach. Does she just wake up one day and it's in there?" You let out a sharp exhalation, but whether it's a sigh or a stifled laugh, even you're not sure. "Did… who told you all that?" "I pieced it together myself," Caine says, still with that serious frown. "And also that's what they said in church. Or they're always taking about how babies are gifts from the One-God, anyway, blessing them and such." <<include "cainebirdsandbees">>

Caine scowls and sends the pebble sailing down the street. "I know!" <<include "cainebirdsandbees">>

The look of betrayal that Caine gives you is perhaps the most disappointed you've ever seen him. <<include "cainebirdsandbees">>

"Er..." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $stupid is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"...You know what? I actually don't."</div>' 'autogenerated_68041'>><<setintelligence -5>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I do." Give him a matter-of-fact, anatomical rundown of human reproduction.</div>' 'caineanatomical'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I do." Give him a euphemistic, conceptual version of the birds and the bees process.</div>' 'caineeuphemistic'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I do, but it's probably not my place to tell you about it... Why don't you ask your mother?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68042'>><<setloyal +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I do, but why don't we ask an expert? They could probably describe it better than I could." Take him to the Healers in the infirmary.</div>' 'cainehealer'>><<setloyal +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Sorry, Caine, but I am <i>not</i> the person to ask about this."</div>' 'autogenerated_68043'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You decide to have some fun with this. "You know who would be the best person to ask about this?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68044'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Caine's eyes open wide, but then he says triumphantly, "See? And if <i>you</i> don't know, I don't see why Timo would expect me to!" "Maybe we should ask someone else," you suggest. He gives you a skeptical look. "Like who?" <<include 'whotoask'>>

Caine pulls a face of exaggerated tragedy. "What? But that'll take <i>forever</i>. Sending a letter all the way to Lindell and back will probably take a month!" "Well, it's still probably best," you assure him. Caine lets out a long-winded sigh, but seems to accept this answer. <<include 'cainerockscollection'>>

Caine gives you a tragic, wounded look. "Who would be, then?" <<include 'whotoask'>>

Caine looks at you curiously. "Who?" <<include 'whotoask'>>

You deliver an academic breakdown of exactly what happens at each stage in the process, delivered in a neutral, matter-of-fact tone. Despite your efforts to deliver the news with scientific clarity, though, Caine's eyes only grow wider and wider as you talk; his face has transformed into one of disgusted horror. "…Oh," he says blankly once you're done. "So it's like, um, farm animals and stuff. That's how <i>they</i> do it. I just thought we were different from them, I guess." He's silent for a long moment. "Um. Well, thanks, <<c firstname>>? Now I know, I guess!" <<include "cainerockscollection">>

You dress it up for a child's level of understanding, filled with fanciful metaphors and comparisons, but in the end, you think you get the message across well enough. Caine's face has transformed into one of blank surprise. "<i>Ohhhh</i>." He's silent for a moment. "Okay. It wasn't really like what I was thinking. But I was close!" <<include "cainerockscollection">>

Caine gives you a skeptical look. "I guess that makes sense…" He follows you dutifully as you head back inside and beeline straight for the infirmary. The Head Healer, Elemnestra, initially attempts to act as if she's too busy for this when you track her down—even though there are only three patients in the entire wing—but at your insistence, she sighs, sits Caine down on a stool, and proceeds to give him an incredibly anatomically-accurate breakdown of… well. Everything he could ever need to know about this topic. By the end of it all, Caine's eyes are huge with a kind of disgusted horror. Elemnestra, unsympathetic, tsks, turns to one of her shelves, and shoves a domestic manual entitled <i>The Midwife's Almanac</i> into his hands. "There are diagrams in there if you're having trouble visualizing it," she says curtly. Then she raises her brows pointedly at you. "Will that suffice?" After she's bustled briskly away, Caine turns to you with a look of such utter shell-shock that you try not to laugh. "Well, at least now I know," he says in a subdued voice. <<include "cainerockscollection">>

Then he brightens. "Anyway," he says, completely breezing over what just happened, "you wanna see my new rock collection? Ayla told me about this thing called geodes, and I've been finding 'em all over the place, you can have one if you want…" Now seemingly totally unfazed, he scurries off to fetch his rock collection… leaving you to wonder if he retained any of what he heard today at all. Oh, well. <<page_break "Next" "caineendvisit">>

You spent a pleasant time with Caine! <<include "caineover">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $blade >= 50>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Blade!"</div>' 'autogenerated_68045'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $trouble >= 50>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Trouble!"</div>' 'autogenerated_68046'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $tallys >= 50>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Tallys!"</div>' 'autogenerated_68047'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $shery >= 50>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Shery!"</div>' 'autogenerated_68048'>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($riel >= 50) and ($rieljoin)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Riel!"</div>' 'autogenerated_68049'>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($chasejoin) and ($chase >= 50)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Chase!"</div>' 'autogenerated_68050'>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($redjoin) and ($red >= 50)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Red!"</div>' 'autogenerated_68051'>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($aylajoin) and ($ayla >= 50)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Ayla!"</div>' 'autogenerated_68052'>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($halekjoin) and ($halek >= 50)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Halek!"</div>' 'autogenerated_68053'>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($brionyjoin) and ($briony >= 50)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Briony!"</div>' 'autogenerated_68054'>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($lavinetjoin) and ($lavinet >= 50)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Lavinet!"</div>' 'autogenerated_68055'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("cainenomimir") and ($mimirjoin)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Mimir!"</div>' 'cainenomimir'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("cainenochandry") and ($part > 8)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Chandry!"</div>' 'cainenochandry'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"One of the Healers in the infirmary!"</div>' 'cainehealer'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

There's a moment of shocked, deadened silence. Finally Caine says, in tones of supreme skepticism: "………You think the <i>Commander</i> would be the best person to ask? About <i>this</i>?" You nod confidently. "Absolutely. There's a reason why he's Commander, you know. He's extremely knowledgeable." Caine looks extremely doubtful, but he follows you trustingly enough as you turn to go find the dark-haired former assassin. <<include 'cainebladetalk5'>>

Caine pulls a skeptical face. "Trouble? I guess that makes sense… He'd know… <i>I think</i>… and I can usually ask him about most anything." He still looks somewhat doubtful, but he follows trustingly enough as you turn to go find the blond sniper. <<include 'cainetroubletalk5'>>

Caine nods slowly, absorbing your suggestion. "Yeah," he says approvingly after a moment. "Yeah, she knows all there is to know about herbs and healing and medicine and things. Plus, she's <i>wise</i>. Let's go and ask her!" You follow in his wake as he scampers off to find the Elven archer. <<include 'cainetallystalk5'>>

Caine gives you a look of supreme skepticism. "<i>Shery</i>? I mean, she'd <i>probably</i> know, but I get the feeling she'll just stammer over everything and get really awkward about it." Brutal. "Well," you say encouragingly, "it couldn't hurt to ask her, could it?" He looks extremely doubtful, but he follows trustingly enough as you turn to go find the blonde quartermaster. <<include 'cainesherytalk5'>>

Caine gives you a look of supreme skepticism. "<i>Really</i>? I mean, he'd definitely know—he knows <i>everything</i>—but he probably wouldn't talk to <i>me</i> about it. He's super weird around kids. One time he tried to talk to me about 'vested stock options.' And then he gave me money so I could buy, like, a book about it or something, but really I think it was so I'd leave him alone." You wrestle down a laugh. "Well," you say encouragingly, "if you want the most accurate information, he'd still be the person to ask, wouldn't he?" "I guess…" He looks extremely doubtful, but he follows trustingly enough as you turn to go find the dark-haired businessman. <<include 'cainerieltalk5'>>

Caine raises his eyebrows. "Oh, yeah, I guess <i>he'd</i> know. He seems like the type, doesn't he?" "He does," you answer, straight-faced. "Shall we?" He follows trustingly as you turn to go find the wily thief. <<include 'cainechasetalk5'>>

Caine's look brightens. "Yeah," he says with sudden enthusiasm. "<i>He'd</i> know. And he teaches classes and things to the other Mages, so he'd have no problem explaining it, either. Let's go and find him!" You follow in his wake as he scampers off to find the red-haired Mage. <<include 'caineredtalk5'>>

Caine gives you a look of supreme skepticism. "<i>Really</i>? I mean, I guess she'd know—probably, I don't know what they teach in Jalis—but I don't think she'd talk to <i>me</i> about it. She doesn't really know how to talk to kids." You wrestle down a laugh. "Well," you say encouragingly, "it couldn't hurt to ask her, would it?" He looks extremely doubtful, but he follows trustingly enough as you turn to go find the amber-eyed Wind-Mage. <<include 'caineaylatalk5'>>

Caine gives you a look of incredulity. "<i>Him</i>? I mean… he'd probably know… but he's so <i>lazy</i>. He can't give you a straight answer about anything! He just cares about napping!" There's something of an indignant child's outrage and exasperation in the way he says it. You wrestle down a laugh. "Well," you say encouragingly, "it still couldn't hurt to ask him, would it?" He looks extremely doubtful, but he follows trustingly enough as you turn to go find the white-haired exorcist. <<include 'cainehalektalk5'>>

Caine looks somewhat doubtful, his brow crinkling at the idea. "You think so? But… with her amnesia… would she even <i>know</i>?" That is actually a very good question. "Can't hurt to ask her, can it?" you ask cheerfully. He looks somewhat doubtful, but he follows trustingly enough as you turn to go find the pink-haired Battle-Mage. <<include 'cainebrionytalk5'>>

Caine gives you a look of supreme skepticism. "<i>Really</i>? I mean, I guess she'd know—she's always reading those romance novels and such—but I don't think she'd talk to <i>me</i> about it. Noble ladies like her don't really answer kids' questions." You wrestle down a laugh. "Well," you say encouragingly, "it couldn't hurt to ask her, would it?" He looks extremely doubtful, but he follows trustingly enough as you turn to go find the $lavinetcolor-haired noblewoman. <<include 'cainelavinettalk5'>>

<<page_break "Next" "cainebladetalk">>

<<page_break "Next" "cainetroubletalk">>

<<page_break "Next" "cainetallystalk">>

<<page_break "Next" "cainesherytalk">>

<<page_break "Next" "cainerieltalk">>

<<page_break "Next" "cainechasetalk">>

<<page_break "Next" "caineredtalk">>

<<page_break "Next" "caineaylatalk">>

<<page_break "Next" "cainehalektalk">>

<<page_break "Next" "cainebrionytalk">>

<<page_break "Next" "cainelavinettalk">>

Caine squints beadily at you. "Be serious, <<c firstname>>!" he exclaims in a frustrated tone. "Mimir can barely tell I'm in the same room with her—she's not going to talk to me about <i>that</i>!" -> whotoask

Caine gives you a look of abject horror. "<i>That clown who runs the shop in the Market Quarter</i>? No way am I going to ask him about this, <<c firstname>>! Who were you actually going to say?" -> whotoask

Blade glowers at you from over the stacks of paperwork on his office desk, the look on his face one of sour unenthusiasm. "You cannot be serious." Caine turns to glance at you pleadingly—he both worships and is painfully shy around Blade in turns—as you return steadily, "Why wouldn't we be? It's important information to know, after all." Blade glances once at Caine, then far more darkly at you. His silence is pointed as well as distinctly unimpressed. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Please, Blade? For me?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68056'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Are you saying that you <i>don't</i> know how it works?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68057'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Look at that little face, Blade. Can you really tell him no?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68058'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Boy, what are you going to do when you have children and they ask you this same question?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68059'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag >= 20>> For the briefest micro-second, that almost seems to give Blade pause as he glances at your face. <br><br> Whatever he sees there, however, only causes him to smile humorlessly and bend back over his paperwork, turning over another page of the mission report he's scanning. "I am positive you'll find others far better-suited to the task," he drawls, his voice extremely dry. He glances back up at you, his dark eyes only <i>slightly</i> amused, as if to say, <i>Nice try.</i> <br><br> You sigh and usher Caine out. You really thought that would be more fun. <<else>> Blade actually snorts, incredulous. "No," he answers flatly. "But I'm sure you'll find others who are far better-suited to the task. Out there." He nods at his office door before turning pointedly back to his paperwork. <br><br> You sigh and usher Caine out. You really thought that would be more fun. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'cainethetalkconclude'>>

Caine gives Blade a genuine look of wonder, as if re-assessing whether the Commander of the Shepherds could indeed sport this massive gap in knowledge. Blade instantly scowls and returns, "Of course I'm aware of how childbirth works." "Then what's the problem with explaining it to Caine?" "I lack the conversational skills to convey it properly," Blade answers tartly. He nods pointedly at his office door. "But I'm sure you can find a wealth of resources. Out there." You sigh and usher Caine out. You really thought that would be more fun. <<include 'cainethetalkconclude'>>

"Yes," Blade says curtly. "There are others who are far better-suited to the task. Out there." He nods at his office door before turning pointedly back to his paperwork. You sigh and usher Caine out. You really thought that would be more fun. <<include 'cainethetalkconclude'>>

<<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag >= 20>> For a moment, Blade almost seems to give you the briefest double-take, as if gauging whether you're serious about this. He pauses for a moment, almost seems to cave in… before he shakes his head and says impassively, "I have some time to prepare for that scenario. Until then, there are others who are far better-suited to explaining it to Caine. Now. Out there." He tilts his head pointedly at his office door. <<else>> "I have plenty of time to prepare for that scenario, if it ever comes at all," Blade deadpans back, without missing a beat. "Until then, there are others who are far better-suited to explaining it to Caine. Now. Out there." He glances pointedly at his office door. <</if>><</nobr>> You sigh and usher Caine out. You really thought that would be more fun. <<include 'cainethetalkconclude'>>

<<page_break "..." "cainefinaldecision">>

Caine turns to you with a dejected sigh. "Well, that didn't work. What do we do now?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"All right, I'll tell you what you need to know." Give him a matter-of-fact, anatomical rundown of human reproduction.</div>' 'cainefinalanatomy'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Here's how it works, Caine." Give him a euphemistic, conceptual version of the birds and the bees process.</div>' 'cainefinaleuphemistic'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Why don't you ask your mother?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68060'>><<setloyal +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Let's ask one of the Healers in the infirmary."</div>' 'cainehealer2'>><<setloyal +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Leading him back outside to one of the side courtyards, you deliver an academic breakdown of exactly what happens at each stage in the process, delivered in a neutral, matter-of-fact tone. Despite your efforts to deliver the news with scientific clarity, though, Caine's eyes only grow wider and wider as you talk; his face has transformed into one of disgusted horror. "…Oh," he says blankly once you're done. "So it's like, um, farm animals and stuff. That's how <i>they</i> do it. I just thought we were different from them, I guess." He's silent for a long moment. "Um. Well, thanks, <<c firstname>>? Now I know, I guess!" <<include "cainerockscollection">>

Leading him back outside to one of the side courtyards, you dress it up for a child's level of understanding, filled with fanciful metaphors and comparisons. In the end, though, you think you get the message across well enough. Caine's face has transformed into one of blank surprise. "<i>Ohhhh</i>." He's silent for a moment. "Okay. I wasn't really expecting that. But I was close!" <<include "cainerockscollection">>

Caine heaves a sigh, clearly regretting having brought up this topic in the first place. "Okay…" He follows you dutifully as you head back inside and beeline straight for the infirmary. The Head Healer, Elemnestra, initially attempts to act as if she's too busy for this when you track her down—even though there are only three patients in the entire wing—but at your insistence, she sighs, sits Caine down on a stool, and proceeds to give him an incredibly anatomically-accurate breakdown of… well. Everything he could ever need to know about this topic. By the end of it all, Caine's eyes are huge with a kind of disgusted horror. Elemnestra, unsympathetic, tsks, turns to one of her shelves, and shoves a domestic manual entitled <i>The Midwife's Almanac</i> into his hands. "There are diagrams in there if you're having trouble visualizing it," she says curtly. Then she raises her brows pointedly at you. "Will that suffice?" After she's bustled briskly away, Caine turns to you with a look of such utter shell-shock that you try not to laugh. "Well, at least now I know," he says in a subdued voice. <<include "cainerockscollection">>

Trouble stares at you for a long moment, looking like his brain has just shorted out as he attempts to process what you just asked him. You've caught him on the tail-end of a training session, toweling off his blond hair as he sits on a bench in one of the Shepherd practice courtyards. His blue-gold eyes slowly travel from you to Caine, who stands expectantly, before he says blankly, "Uh. Are you… being serious?" "<i>Dead</i> serious," you tell him, while Caine nods emphatically. Trouble's brow furrows as he shoots you a look, as if wondering what's stopping <i>you</i> from explaining it all, before he seems to rally and leans forward, placing his elbows on his knees as he begins gamely enough: "Er. Okay. Here's how it works…" Fumblingly, haltingly, he proceeds to deliver a surprisingly-accurate rundown of the human reproductive process to Caine. The boy's eyes grow wider and wider as Trouble describes it all, and when the sharpshooter finishes, all he says to say about the matter is, "…Oh. That's… not how I thought it worked." Trouble rubs the back of his head. "Yeah. Do you have any questions for me?" Caine takes exactly one second to process things before he chirps cheerfully, "Nope! Want to see my new rock collection, though? Ayla told me about this thing called geodes, and I've been collecting 'em all over the place…" Trouble gives you such a bewildered look as Caine scampers off, chattering as if nothing had ever happened, that you have to laugh. The two of you follow in the boy's wake, and Trouble leans close to you and mutters under your breath, "You gonna tell me why <i>I</i> had to tell him?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I just thought it would be funny."</div>' 'ijustthoughtitwouldbefunny'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"<i>I</i> didn't want to do it!"</div>' 'soyoufoisted'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"The opportunity just presented itself. But how did you learn all about this?"</div>' 'theopportunityjust'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Trouble snorts. "I figured. Typical." <<nobr>><<if ($trouble >= 75) or ($troubleromanceflag >= 10)>> He ruffles your hair affectionately before gazing after Caine in sudden thoughtful silence. <<else>> He suddenly gazes after Caine in thoughtful silence. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "troublethoughtful">>

Trouble snorts. "So you foisted it off on me? Thanks a lot." <<nobr>><<if ($trouble >= 75) or ($troubleromanceflag >= 10)>> He ruffles your hair affectionately before gazing after Caine in sudden thoughtful silence. <<else>> He suddenly gazes after Caine in thoughtful silence. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "troublethoughtful">>

Trouble snorts. "I do read, you know. Plus, growing up in Ashtown, you kind of have to pick up stuff like that. There're Healers and midwives all over the place. I've also had to help deliver a baby myself… twice." "Now <i>that's</i> a story I have to hear." The two of you follow contentedly along as Caine scurries off to retrieve his rock collection. <<page_break "Next" "caineendvisit">>

"He doesn't have a dad, does he?" "A stepfather," you return in a lowered voice. "But it doesn't seem as if they're close in any way. His real father died before he was born." Trouble grimaces. "I know how that feels," he mutters to himself. Then he shakes his head. "Still. At least he has <i>us</i> to look after him. It's more than a lot of us had." The two of you follow contentedly along as Caine scurries off to retrieve his rock collection. <<page_break "Next" "caineendvisit">>

Tallys seems wholly unsurprised by your unusual request, but then again, she hardly ever looks surprised. She's currently crouched in the bed of one of the Order's nascent vegetable gardens, calmly picking slugs and caterpillars off of the pale, hopeful seedlings. Placidly, she invites you and Caine to join her while she answers his question. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Decline. You don't want to dirty your hands and clothes at the moment.</div>' 'autogenerated_68061'>><<setloyal -1>><<settallys -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Vehemently decline. The idea of touching slugs and caterpillars is horrifying.</div>' 'autogenerated_68062'>><<setloyal -1>><<setcourage -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Accept. Gardening with Tallys is always a peaceful pastime.</div>' 'autogenerated_68063'>><<settallys +1>><<setloyal +1>><</link>> <<if (($specialization is "wild") or ($specialization is "elementalist")) or ($specialization is "binder")>><<link '<div class="choice-item">You'll do her one better. You can use your magic to help protect her garden from pests.</div>' 'autogenerated_68064'>><<settallys +1>><<setmagic +2>><</link>><</if>> <<if $specialization is not "wild" and $specialization is not "elementalist" and $specialization is not "binder">><div class="inactive-item">You'll do her one better. You can use your magic to help protect her garden from pests.</div><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

Caine joins in, however, and Tallys proceeds to deliver the most neutral, matter-of-fact breakdown of the reproductive process that you've ever personally heard: she even uses several examples in the vegetable garden itself to illustrate the ideas of pollination and fertilization. <<include 'tallysexplainsreproduction'>>

You and Caine join in, and Tallys proceeds to deliver the most neutral, matter-of-fact breakdown of the reproductive process that you've ever personally heard: she even uses several examples in the vegetable garden itself to illustrate the ideas of pollination and fertilization. <<include 'tallysexplainsreproduction'>>

<<nobr>><<if $specialization is "wild">> <<setpsionic +1>> Although insects and similar creatures are too simple for you to directly take control of, you can create a kind of psychic barrier that still warns them away from the area—sort of like a psionic repellent. <<elseif $specialization is "elementalist">> <<setastral +1>> The use of some basic plant-magic will enable you to create natural barriers against insects and other similar creatures, altering the composition of the soil slightly to repel them while still nourishing Tallys's seedlings. <<else>> <<setarcane +1>> Sketching a rudimentary ward with powdered lyme will be more than enough to repel insects and other similar creatures. <</if>><</nobr>> You turn to your task with pleasure as Tallys proceeds to deliver the most neutral, matter-of-fact breakdown of the reproductive process that you've ever personally heard: she even uses several examples in the vegetable garden itself to illustrate the ideas of pollination and fertilization. <<include 'tallysexplainsreproduction'>>

By the end of it all, Caine looks as if he totally understands the matter… though he also seems faintly disappointed, as if hearing such a mysterious phenomenon laid out in such plain and mundane terms is something of a letdown. "Oh," he says, somewhat blankly. "That's all it is? Well, that makes sense!" Tallys smiles sidelong at him. "I'm glad to have enlightened you." The boy is silent for a moment, processing things. "Could I ask you another question?" "You can, though it's not a guarantee I'll answer." "Does it work the same with Elves? Like, having babies and such? I know the kids stay kids for way longer, but…" Tallys pauses for a long moment, working steadily at clearing away a stubborn tangle of weeds, before she answers, "It's the same process in its basic essence, though it's more difficult for Elves to have children… we don't have them as often as the other races do, and Elven women also stay pregnant for much longer." Caine's eyes widen. "How long?" Tallys's face remains placid. "Eighteen months." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Make a shocked sound. "That's unconscionable!"</div>' 'tallysreactioncaine'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Oh, boy. That sounds... rough."</div>' 'tallysreactioncaine'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"$god."</div>' 'tallysreactioncaine'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Ew."</div>' 'tallysreactioncaine'>><</link>> <<if $heritage is "Elf">><<link '<div class="heritage-item">Nod sagely. Although pregnancies didn't happen very often, you remember this well from Vale.</div>' 'autogenerated_68065'>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($tallyssex) and ($tallysromance is false)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Look away. This topic is raising some conflicted feelings about your future with Tallys...</div>' 'autogenerated_68066'>><</link>><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

You also recall how such times were periods of utter festivity and celebration, the pregnancy something to treasure by both the parents and the community at large. <<include 'tallyscainereaction'>>

<<nobr>><<if ($tallysharden >= 2) and ($tallysromanceflag >= 15)>> <<set $tallysromanceflag += 3>> What would she be like as a mother? What role in that would you have in that, if any? <br><br> <</if>><</nobr>> Tallys glances at you knowingly, as if she can sense exactly where your thoughts are trending. For an instant, it seems as if her eyes are softer, filled with a quiet emotion that you hardly dare to name. Sadness, or longing, or the two mingled in with something else… <<include 'tallyscainereaction'>>

"<i>Whoa</i>," Caine adds, full of shocked awe. Tallys laughs shortly, the sound as clear and cool as a bell. "It's not as if we have a choice in the matter," she says, amused. "That's not a very long time when you think of our lifespans. And besides, in our culture, it's so difficult to get pregnant in the first place that to have achieved it at all is considered a great honor, a time to treasure while being cherished by the community." <<include "tallyscainereaction">>

"Huh," Caine says, sounding nonplussed but apparently satisfied. "Well, thanks for telling me, anyway." Tallys simply nods, and the three of you continue working in her garden for some time more, whiling the hours away together with talk of other things. <<page_break "Next" "caineendvisit">>

Shery sags back against her office desk, looking as stunned as if you'd clubbed her over the head. "Wh—you want to know about—? But…" Caine casts you a meaningful look, as if to say, <i>I told you so.</i> The quartermaster's face is already a bright pink. "W-well, I can tell you about how women have children," she begins with difficulty, training her eyes on Caine and clutching her clipboard to her chest as if it'll prevent her heart from flying out of it. "B-but about the other things, like, erm, p-puberty and some such, I-I really think there are better resources…" "What's <i>puberty</i>?" Caine asks loudly. Shery swoons, as if she's about to faint. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Take pity on her. "Why don't you have a seat, Shery? I'll get you some water."</div>' 'autogenerated_68067'>><<setshery +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Yeah, Shery, what <i>is</i> puberty?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68068'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Remain silent.</div>' 'autogenerated_68069'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $sheryromanceflag >= 10>> <<set $sheryromanceflag += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> She looks at you shyly, taking the cue to sink into her office chair. "Th-thank you, <<c firstname>>. U-um, Caine, why don't you grab that medical textbook on the shelf behind you? I think there are some diagrams that could explain it better than I can…" <<include 'sherytriestoteach'>>

Shery squeaks as if a mouse had just jumped up and bit her. "<<c firstname>>, please…" <<include 'sherytriestoteach'>>

<<nobr>><<if $sheryromanceflag >= 5>> <<set $sheryromanceflag -= 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> Shery looks at you pitifully, but tries to sink with dignity into her office chair—nearly missing—as she rallies herself and begins, "U-um, Caine, why don't you grab that medical textbook on the shelf behind you? I think there are some diagrams that could explain it better than I can…" <<include 'sherytriestoteach'>>

Eventually, she's able to deliver a passable explanation of the human reproductive process to Caine. The boy sits patiently through her fumbling talk, but you're not sure if he's completely absorbing it all. At the end of it, when Shery's trailed off into feeble silence, he says blankly, "Oh, is <i>that</i> all? It's like farm animals, then. I just thought humans were different, for some reason." "Not so different, I suppose," Shery says weakly, casting you a helpless glance. Caine nods seriously once, processing this, before he brightens suddenly and seems to forget all about the matter. "Okay, well, thanks! D'you want to see my new rock collection, by the way? Ayla told me all about these things called geodes, and I've been finding 'em <i>everywhere</i>!" Before she can answer, he suddenly springs to his feet and scurries off, apparently intent on fetching his rock collection to show to you both. Shery turns to stare at you with such wide eyes that you can't help but laugh. Shery, surprisingly, laughs too, the sound unrestrained and a little relieved, as she rises and offers to brew some tea while you wait for Caine. While she prepares the ingredients, she says over her shoulder to you: "From what I understand, Caine isn't particularly close to his parents. I'm glad that he can come to you with his questions, then. These are things he has to know." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You did well in explaining it to him."</div>' 'sheryteaching'>><<setshery +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm glad we can all do our part in looking after him."</div>' 'autogenerated_68070'>><<setloyal +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"If you ask me, his mother seems totally negligent. Letting him go off on his own like this at such a young age..."</div>' 'sherynegligentparents'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Shery smiles. "I enjoy having him around very much. He's such an earnest boy, and enormously good-hearted. He's going to grow up to be a wonderful young man someday." <<include 'sherycainereturn'>>

Shery casts you an abashed glance, as if checking to see whether you're making fun of her, but a little smile dances around her mouth. "It wasn't the best," she admits, "but I'm glad I could tell him the truth, at least." She pauses, fiddling with her teapot, before she adds, "I once entertained thoughts of becoming a schoolteacher, you know. If I hadn't joined the Shepherds, it would have been that or joining the convent. But I always liked teaching children things." Then she blushes. "Not things like <i>this</i>, per se, but my point is, I enjoy having Caine around. He picks up things very quickly, and he's such an earnest boy, and enormously good-hearted. He's going to grow up to be a wonderful young man someday." <<include "sherycainereturn">>

Shery grimaces. "I can't say I disagree," she says softly, "but it's the way of the world for many people, especially in Norm culture. My own parents expected to send me off on my own apprenticeship, exactly the same as Caine, though I was admittedly older. But I had peers who were apprenticed at his age. Sometimes it's the best way of ensuring that the child in question is fed, clothed, and educated, giving them more opportunities than they would receive at home…" Then she bites her lip. "Though that doesn't seem to be what happened with him…" <<include "sherycainereturn">>

Caine's return cuts her off, however, so the two of you simply indulge the boy and marvel over his (rather plain) rock collection as you enjoy a quiet spot of tea together. <<page_break "Next" "caineendvisit">>

Unfortunately for you, Riel takes one look at you and Caine approaching his office from down the hall and seems to instantly ascertain what you're up to. He immediately rises from his desk and closes his office door before you can even get a word out. "No," he says in clipped, adamant tones when the two of you knock on the heavy oaken door. "But you haven't even—" "No." "Caine was just wondering—" "<b>No</b>." Aerin, Riel's assistant, appears from another office down the corridor. She smiles apologetically at you both and begins, "Unfortunately, Riel's very busy at the moment…" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"He just closed the door on us, Aerin. There wasn't anyone in there with him."</div>' 'autogenerated_68071'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"How does that bastard always know what's going on before it even happens?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68072'>><<setriel +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"So busy he won't even <i>try</i> to help two of his good friends?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68073'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Her pleasant smile remains plastered on her face, but her eyes are pleading. "Still…" Caine sighs and looks at you. "Told you he wouldn't do it," he mutters. <<include 'aerinoffers'>>

<<nobr>><<if $rielromanceflag >= 10>> <<set $rielromanceflag += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> "Presumably, he reads your body language and facial expressions and draws his conclusions quickly," Aerin says pleasantly, though there's a look on her face that indicates she also finds this ability annoying. Caine sighs and looks at you. "Told you he wouldn't do it," he mutters. <<include 'aerinoffers'>>

"You don't need my help," Riel answers acerbically, his voice muffled by the door. "Not for this." <<include 'aerinoffers'>>

Aerin glances at you apologetically. "Is there anything I can do to help?" "I just want someone to tell me how babies are made," Caine exclaims in frustrated tones. From behind the office door, you hear Riel's sharp exclamation, almost something like a triumphant <i>A-ha!</i> Aerin glances from you to Caine. "Oh, is that all? I can tell you about that." Like a schoolmarm, she strides over to her office door and holds the door open smartly, inviting the both of you inside. And then, completely matter-of-factly, she proceeds to give Caine a breakdown of how human reproduction works. <<page_break "Next" "cainerielwatch">>

By the end of it all, Caine's eyes look a bit wider, but he seems more disappointed than anything. "Oh," he says, a bit scornfully. "<i>That's</i> all? So it's like… like farm animals. I thought humans were different for some reason. What was all the fuss about, then?" Aerin shrugs politely, though the glance she casts at Riel's still-closed door is a bit unimpressed. "I'm sure I don't know." You thank her as you and Caine file out of the office, and Aerin laughs, a bit self-deprecatingly. "All part of the job, I suppose…" As you turn to leave, you glance back and happen to see Riel watching the proceedings through a crack in his office door. He raises his brows when you make eye contact, then shamelessly eases the door shut again, apparently satisfied with having successfully deflected you. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Roll your eyes at the door.</div>' 'cainedoorwatching'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Sigh and shake your head.</div>' 'cainedoorwatching'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Narrow your eyes at the door. You'll get him next time...</div>' 'cainedoorwatching'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Outside, Caine turns to you brightly, evidently forgetting the matter entirely. "Anyway," he says, completely breezing over what just happened, "you wanna see my new rock collection? Ayla told me about this thing called geodes, and I've been finding 'em all over the place, you can have one if you want…" Now seemingly totally unfazed, he scurries off to fetch his rock collection, and you follow contentedly along. <<page_break "Next" "caineendvisit">>

Chase regards you beneficently from over his steepled fingers. "So," he drawls, reclining like some sort of monarch receiving state visitors as he sits with one ankle crossed over his knee, "<i>why</i> exactly did you think of me for this?" Caine glances at you expectantly, as if to ask you the same question. You had to coax Chase down from the rafters—lords know what he was doing up there—to have this conversation, and now he lounges at his leisure on one of the benches beneath the eaves of the courtyard arcade, his green eyes glinting with some measure of amused interest. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You're just so full of worldly wisdom, Chase."</div>' 'chasenonsensetalk'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You're just so good at talking to people, Chase."</div>' 'chasenonsensetalk'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You're just such a good role model, Chase."</div>' 'chasenonsensetalk'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You always have all the answers, Chase."</div>' 'chasenonsensetalk'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You just seemed like the best man for the job."</div>' 'chasenonsensetalk'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You were just the first person who popped into my head."</div>' 'chasenonsensetalk'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Better you than me."</div>' 'chasenonsensetalk'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Chase regards you for a long, drawn-out moment. "Uh-huh." Finally he uncrosses his legs and pats the seat on the bench beside him, inviting Caine to sit next to him. "So, Caine my boy, you want to learn about the grand waltz of life, huh? The birds and the bees, the fools and the flowers, is that it?" "I suppose," Caine says, looking wary and confused. Chase slides you another sidelong look, the glance so unmistakably sly now that you instantly discern that you've committed a grave error. "Well," the thief begins cheerfully, "it's a bit byzantine and esoteric, but I'll do my best to explain. First, when a lady wants a child, she's got to hike up the nearest mountain, see…" "Uh-huh," Caine says as your look sharpens. "And then she's got to find a giant nest, crafted by this rare gigantic bird, and then she's got to steal one of its eggs, which is as big as a melon…" "Okay…" "<i>Chase</i>," you begin warningly. "<i>And then</i> she's got to make this special concoction, known only to midwives and healers, and then she's got to eat that egg whole. Sort of like an omelette, you know, with these secret ingredients…" Caine is avidly interested now. "Really?" "Yup. And she gets so full from the meal that her stomach stays round for nine whole months…" "What's the man got to do with it, then?" "Oh, nothing. He's just a worthless accessory to it all. As is often the case…" The thief eyes you with a knowing smirk on his face. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Okay, that's enough! Caine, don't listen to a word of this, it's all nonsense."</div>' 'chasestopsnonsense'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Chase is just teasing you, Caine. None of this is real."</div>' 'chasestopsnonsense'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Chase, have you ever been serious? At all? In your life?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68074'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm disappointed in you, Chase. How are you going to explain this to your own kids someday?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68075'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"Nope," he answers cheerfully as you shake your head and usher Caine away. "Thanks for stopping by, though! Feel free to come by if you have any other questions!" <<include 'cainethetalkconclude'>>

<<nobr>><<if $chaseromance is true>> "Oh, was this a test of my fatherhood skills?" Chase asks innocently. "Darling, I promise when that time comes, I'll take it more seriously. In fact, we can deliver the whole talk together!" <br><br> He beams at you, seemingly genuinely pleased at the idea, then blows you a kiss as you shake your head and usher Caine away, suppressing a smile. <<elseif $chasesex is true>> "Who says I'm going to have any?" Chase asks innocently, though the way he watches is more thoughtful and considering. He smirks. "And if I do, I'll just send them over to <i>you</i>, sweetheart." <<else>> "You talk as if this <i>isn't</i> what I'll tell them," Chase returns innocently, completely unfazed as you shake your head and usher Caine away. "It's the truth, after all!" <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'cainethetalkconclude'>>

Caine looks disappointed, though not altogether very surprised. "Figures. I haven't ever heard of any eggs or anything like that." "No, come back!" Chase calls after you as you shake your head and usher Caine away. "I'll tell him the <i>real</i> truth this time! I'll tell him all about the stork—!" <<include "cainethetalkconclude">>

Red blinks at you from over his half-moon spectacles, then slowly lowers them as he leans back from where he sits at his office desk, having been in the middle of poring over a book with tiny, cramped script. "Oh. You want to talk about this… now?" You and Caine hover in his doorway, feeling like a pair of truant students visiting their professor during office hours. For some reason, Red looks particularly scholarly and mannerly at the moment, sitting with his wide Mage robes clipped to prevent the sleeves from trailing into his inkwell and his eyebrows arched over his glasses. Speaking of which… <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Since when do you wear glasses?"</div>' 'redglassesreaction'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You look ridiculous like that." He looks like a fifty-year-old headmaster drinking scotch in his smoking jacket!</div>' 'redglassesreaction'>><<set $redromanceflag -8>><<setred -1>><</link>> <<if $redromanceflag >= 1>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"You look handsome like that." There's something attractively professorial about him at the moment.</div>' 'autogenerated_68076'>><<set $redromanceflag +=3>><<setred +2>><</link>><</if>> <<if $redromanceflag lt 1>><div class="inactive-item">"You look handsome like that." There's something attractively professorial about him at the moment.</div><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

Red grins up at you as he slides them off; meanwhile, Caine shoots you a frankly incredulous, disgusted look. "Neon made them," Red explains with an embarrassed laugh. "They're more preventative than anything—my vision's fine—but everybody says I spend so long in the dark squinting at too-small text that it won't remain that way forever, at least if I'm not careful." <<include 'redexplainsbirdsandbees'>>

Sheepish, Red removes them with a slight grin. "Neon made them," he says with an embarrassed laugh. "They're more preventative than anything—my vision's fine—but everybody says I spend so long in the dark squinting at too-small text that it won't remain that way forever, at least if I'm not careful." <<include "redexplainsbirdsandbees">>

Then he looks to Caine and gestures for the boy to take a seat down across from him. "So you're curious about the reproductive process, Caine? I think I've got an anatomy textbook around here that will prove useful…" Completely carefree and blasé, he proceeds to launch into a breakdown of human reproduction with his characteristic animated enthusiasm. Admittedly, you think eighty-percent of what Red tells him flies straight over Caine's head, as Red dives into more academic minutiae about the topic than a twelve-year-old could possibly be interested in, but Caine sits quietly enough and absorbs the lecture with attentive consideration. When Red finally draws to a halt, Caine says, somewhat blankly, "So it's like barn animals, then? For some reason, I thought it was different for humans… but I guess it isn't?" Red glances quizzically at you, blinking, before he says with an easy laugh, "Well, I'd like to think it's usually more… loving?… than the common encounter between two farm animals, but you've got the gist of it." Caine nods seriously, processing this for exactly one moment, before he suddenly brightens and seems to forget all about the matter. "Okay, well, thanks for telling me. D'you want to see my rock collection, by the way? Ayla told me about this thing called geodes, and I've been finding 'em <i>everywhere</i>!" Before you or Red can answer, he scampers off to fetch his rock collection, evidently intent on showing it off to you both. Red glances at you with an amused smile playing around his mouth. "Well. I'd say that went better than about half of my private lectures." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Thanks for this. I knew you'd be the best person to ask."</div>' 'autogenerated_68077'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You're good with kids, you know."</div>' 'autogenerated_68078'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Are you usually so... thorough... in those lectures? Because that was a lot..."</div>' 'autogenerated_68079'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Nod to the book on his desk. "What are you working on?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68080'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Red smiles wryly. "I'm glad I could save you an awkward conversation," he says drolly. "It's not the first time I've had to explain something like this, either: the youngest first-years at the Circle can be around Caine's age, and I've come across an argument or two that unfolded around the same subject." <<include 'redcainereturn'>>

Red smiles. "Thanks. I find that it's hard to go wrong if you talk them as if they're adults. Also, I'm used to it: the youngest first-years at the Circle can be around Caine's age, and I've come across an argument or two that unfolded around the same subject." <<include 'redcainereturn'>>

"Better all the information than not enough of it," Red quips with a grin. "Besides, it saves me from having to do this again if he ends up having further questions because of my negligence the first time." <<include 'redcainereturn'>>

Red sighs. "Just translating a rare Karzaki text about the pagan religions and folklore of the North," he replies. "You'd think it wouldn't be all that relevant to my field of study, but there's all sorts of fascinating allusions to either different kinds of spirits or household gods up there, leading some to believe that the world-walls are thinner in that region…" <<include 'redcainereturn'>>

Caine's return prevents him from saying anything further, though, and together the two of you patiently indulge Caine as he proceeds to host an academic presentation of his prized rock collection, right there in Red's office. <<page_break "Next" "caineendvisit">>

"Oh, <i>Hael</i> no," Ayla says baldly when you track her down. She's enjoying a cool drink in the refectory and seems patently uninterested in helping you. "I am not paid enough for this. Nuh-uh. <<c firstname>> can explain it to you, Caine, or you can read a book about it or something." Caine looks dolefully at you, as if to say, <i>I told you so</i>. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Come on, Ayla, have a heart. This is stuff he needs to know."</div>' 'autogenerated_68081'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"We're already here, Ayla. Please? For me?"</div>' 'werealreadyhereayla'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Oh, is it because you don't actually know?"</div>' 'ohisitbecauseyoudontknow'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Ayla gives her short, barking laugh. "No doubt! But that ain't <i>my</i> problem. Why can't <i>you</i> explain it to him? Common isn't even my first language!" "Oh, come now, let's not use that as an excuse." "I'll damn well use whatever excuse I want to! Now, if you'll excuse me, there's a table of recruits over there who will pay me money to arm-wrestle them, so… goodbye." She drains her flagon, slams it down, and high-tails out of the situation before you even get the chance to stop her. <<include 'cainethetalkconclude'>>

<<nobr>><<if ($charisma >= 55) and ($cunning >= 50)>> Right on cue, Ayla's eyes bulge with sudden outrage. "I—of course I <i>know</i>," she sputters. "You think I got this far without knowing?! I—" <br><br> She suddenly turns smartly to Caine. "All right, squirt, listen up. Here's the facts. You'd better listen close, because I'm not going to be answering any questions at the end of class. Got it? So it goes like this…" <br><br> <<include "aylaexplains">> <<else>> Ayla snorts. "Nice try," she says, rolling her eyes. "You're just gonna have to sucker in someone else, <<c firstname>>. Sorry, Caine, nothing against <i>you</i>. I'm just, uh, I don't know how to talk to a kid about stuff like that. Now, if you'll excuse me, there's a table of recruits over there who will pay me money to arm-wrestle them, so… goodbye." <br><br> She drains her flagon, slams it down, and high-tails out of the situation before you even get the chance to stop her. <br><br> <<include "cainethetalkconclude">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if ($aylaromanceflag >= 15) or ($ayla >= 90)>> Ayla eyes you beadily, then heaves a long sigh. "Trust you to make me talk to your adopted kid," she mutters. <<if $aylaromanceflag >= 15>> But her eyes soften ever-so-slightly. <</if>> <br><br> <<include "aylaagrees">> <<else>> Ayla issues her short, barking laugh. "Tough shit! <i>I</i> didn't ask you to come here. Now, if you'll excuse me, there's a table of recruits over there who will pay me money to arm-wrestle them, so… goodbye." <br><br> She drains her flagon, slams it down, and high-tails out of the situation before you even get the chance to stop her. <br><br> <<include "cainethetalkconclude">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Finally she turns smartly to Caine. "All right, squirt, listen up. Here's the facts. You'd better listen close, because I'm not going to be answering any questions at the end of class. Got it? So it goes like this…" <<include "aylaexplains">>

She proceeds to deliver a somewhat rambling, but fairly accurate account of how human reproduction works. Caine listens attentively, his eyes wide, and by the time the Wind-Mage finishes, he seems to have a full understanding of the matter. "Oh," he says blankly. "So it's just like farm animals. I thought it was different for humans, for some reason." Ayla shrugs lightly. "Nope, not really. Sorry to disappoint, but there isn't some great mystery about it." She looks pointedly at you. "But at least now you know." "Right." Caine is silent for exactly one more moment, processing the matter, before he suddenly brightens and seems to forget all about it. "You know, after you told me about the geodes, I started finding 'em <i>everywhere</i>? I can show you, if you want!" Ayla's mouth opens. "Oh, uh, I—" But before she can fully answer, he's scampered off, apparently eager to fetch his rock collection to show you both. You and Ayla look at each other helplessly for another moment before she chuckles and beckons for you to sit down and wait at her table with her. "Funny little bugger," she mutters, draining her flagon. "Makes me wonder what it'll be like when I have kids someday." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You glance at her in surprise. You never figured her as the type. "You want kids?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68082'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Smile at her. "I think you'll be a great mom."</div>' 'autogenerated_68083'>><<setayla +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"That means you'll have to find the right partner first, doesn't it?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68084'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Ayla grants you an unimpressed, half-challenging look, arching her brows. "Oh, yeah. A whole litter of 'em. I always planned on that." Her tone is extremely casual as she says it, but something in the way she carries herself—almost defensively—dares you to say more. <<include 'cainerocksreturn'>>

<<nobr>><<if $aylaromanceflag >= 5>> <<set $aylaromanceflag += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> Ayla snorts, but she seems pleased as she raises her flagon to take another sip at the foam. "Hardly," she mutters. "It's not like I had any great role models. But… I'll figure it out, right? Everyone else does." <<include 'cainerocksreturn'>>

<<nobr>><<if $aylaromance is true>> Ayla looks at you assessingly, almost furtively. "Who says I haven't?" she mutters into her flagon, her tone extremely casual. <<elseif $aylaromanceflag >= 15>> Ayla looks at you assessingly, almost furtively. "Suppose so," she mutters into her flagon. <<else>> Ayla snorts. "Hardly. Except for the one act, you don't <i>need</i> a partner for the rest of it. If it happens, it happens. But my plans don't all hinge on it, that's for sure." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'cainerocksreturn'>>

However, Caine's return prevents her from speaking on the matter any further, and together, the two of you indulge the boy and bend over the rock collection he's obviously so proud to show off. <<page_break "Next" "caineendvisit">>

Caine leans skeptically over Halek's long, sleeping form. "Is he dead?" He pokes Halek dubiously in the side; the tall Hunter doesn't stir. You narrow your eyes at Halek, who seems to be completely unconscious, sprawled in his favorite sunny spot on one of the compound's more private balconies. Still, he seems <i>so</i> solidly stone-cold asleep that it's almost suspicious. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I don't think he's actually asleep."</div>' 'autogenerated_68085'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Tickle Halek.</div>' 'autogenerated_68086'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Kick him.</div>' 'autogenerated_68087'>><<sethalek -5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Pinch his nostrils shut.</div>' 'autogenerated_68088'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Halek, we came to warn you that Moonsilk's here. She showed up at the front gates, demanding to see you. What do you want us to do?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68089'>><<setcunning +2>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Fetch some water, Caine. We'll wake him up the hard way."</div>' 'autogenerated_68090'>><<sethalek -2>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Halek, I know you're listening. Caine wants to know how children are made."</div>' 'autogenerated_68091'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

You say it in a loud enough voice that it makes Caine jump, but Halek continues to snooze away, evidently oblivious to your presence here. <<include 'halekstillsleeping'>>

You try to tickle Halek's sides, but the Hunter remains as limp and unresponsive as a sack of flour. Somewhat concerned, you check his pulse and determine that everything is in good order. <<include 'halekstillsleeping'>>

Halek grunts slightly, but he remains stubbornly asleep. At least, he refuses to open his eyes… <<include 'halekstillsleeping'>>

Instantly, Halek's mouth opens to allow him to snore lightly through his mouth. He remains completely unperturbed by your presence and continues to snooze away, apparently oblivious to your presence here. <<include 'halekstillsleeping'>>

… Halek remains blissfully asleep, evidently oblivious to your presence here. <<include 'halekstillsleeping'>>

… Caine shoots you a startled glance, evidently loath to pursue this course of action, while Halek remains blissfully asleep, evidently oblivious to your presence here. <<include 'halekstillsleeping'>>

Impossibly, Halek begins to project the aura of sleep even more aggressively than before. He doesn't rouse or open his eyes, and he even begins to snore lightly. <<include 'halekstillsleeping'>>

… After several minutes of attempting to shake him awake, you finally give up and decide to surrender the idea of getting the lazy Hunter to talk. <<include "cainethetalkconclude">>

Briony's jaw hangs open for a moment before she finally seems to recover her senses. "Okay, sorry. So just to make sure I heard you correctly—you want to learn about—? Hm." She blinks rapidly, evidently processing your request, before her brow furrows. She's currently sitting alone under one of the trees in the southwest courtyard, running weapon maintenance and cleaning Gonturan with an astringent-smelling cloth. "We-ell. Sure, I suppose I could tell you about it…" Both you and Caine are somewhat surprised. "You actually know about it? What about your amnesia?" "Oh, that," Briony says, somewhat more brightly. "Well, it turns out there's different kinds of amnesia, because different kinds of memories get stored in different parts of the brain! There's procedural memory, you know, which is things like knowing how to perform tasks and skills—like playing an instrument or sailing a boat or tying special knots, things like that. That part's mostly fine. Even if I don't remember <i>how</i> I learned how to do a thing, I still remember how to do the thing, so long as I don't think too hard about it. That's why I'm still so good at fighting, I think: I retained whatever training I went through before. And then there's, um, semantic memory, which is things like general knowledge about the world, like the fact that the sky is blue, or the sun goes west, or how math works? That part's pretty much fine, too. It's episodic memory I've got a problem with. That's personal experiences and specific events from my life, like… celebrating my birthday, or having a conversation with someone in the past, or remembering where I came from, obviously. But I <i>do</i> know how, um, pregnancy and things like that work. Though I did have to brush up on it when I first came here. Just to make sure I had it all right." She pats the space beneath the tree beside her, inviting you and Caine to sit, before she delivers, quite casually, an animated breakdown of the stages of human reproduction to Caine. Caine sits patiently, listening with attentiveness, though you still think he looks a bit skeptical; he keeps glancing to you for confirmation, as if he's concerned Briony might be inadvertently giving him misguided information. Everything she says is accurate, though, and by the end of everything, Caine's expression has transformed into one of faint disappointment. "Oh," he says, somewhat blankly. "So it's just like farm animals. I knew about <i>them</i>. I just thought humans were different, for some reason." Briony laughs easily, glancing over at you. "Well, I wouldn't put it quite like that! It's… well, I'm speaking strictly from theory here, but it's just different. You'll probably understand that when you're older." "Huh," Caine says nonplussed. "Well, thanks for telling me, anyway." Then he brightens, seemingly completely forgetting what you've just talked about, and adds, "By the way, Ayla told me about this thing called geodes, and now I've been finding 'em <i>everywhere</i>! You want to see them?" "Oooh, sure!" Briony chirps with sincere enthusiasm. "I love pretty rocks! Can you bring them here?" He nods and scurries eagerly off, intent on retrieving his rock collection to show it off to you both. Briony laughs and looks over to you again. "Aw, he's so cute! I can see why you're so fond of him." Then her face turns a bit more serious as she asks, "Does he have… parents?" "His mother lives in Lindell," you tell her, "and it sounds like he has a stepfather, but they don't seem very close. He seems to prefer living here, on his own." "Well, not on his own," Briony says teasingly, nudging you with her shoulder. "He has you, and all of us, after all." Then she sighs and gazes after Caine. "Still, that's a shame about his parents. I almost feel like I could understand how he feels…" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"They seem negligent. He's much better off with us."</div>' 'autogenerated_68092'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Really? I'd give anything to have a relationship with my parents again..."</div>' 'autogenerated_68093'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I suppose I can, too. I loved my parents, but I definitely couldn't have lived with them forever."</div>' 'autogenerated_68094'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Really? Are you starting to remember something from your past?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68095'>><<setbrionyharden +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Briony looks thoughtfully over at you. "I suppose that's true. Still, how do <i>they</i> feel about it? I just hope that…" <<include 'cainereturnswrocks'>>

Briony grimaces at you in sympathy. "I know, <<c firstname>>," she says gently. "But maybe his parents aren't like yours. Maybe…" <<include 'cainereturnswrocks'>>

Briony grimaces at you in sympathy. "Every bird's got to fly the nest at some point, right?" she offers hesitantly. "Still, I wonder how <i>they</i> feel about it. I just hope that…" <<include 'cainereturnswrocks'>>

Briony frowns deeply. "It's not really anything," she begins slowly. "It's more just a feeling, or maybe an <i>absence</i> of feeling? For some reason, when I try and think of my parents, I don't feel… anything. That's weird, right? Even for someone with amnesia?" She shakes her head thoughtfully, still frowning. "I wonder if I didn't like them…" <<include 'cainereturnswrocks'>>

Caine's return, however, prevents her from saying anything more; Briony cuts herself off and forces a quick smile. Instead, the two of you turn to indulging him as he eagerly shows off his rock collection to you, and you end up whiling away a pleasant afternoon together under Briony's tree. <<page_break "Next" "caineendvisit">>

Lavinet regards you incredulously from where she's brushing out her horse's coat in the Shepherd stables. "You're… asking me to explain the reproductive process to you? Here? Now?" Caine fidgets nervously, casting anxious glances back at you, as if to say, <i>I told you so.</i> To Caine she adds, "Don't you have an instructor or a teacher you could ask? Surely you must take classes, or attend school…?" "I did," Caine mutters, staring down at his feet. "But once you become an apprentice, you don't go to school anymore. You learn a trade. There's instructors here in the Order, but they're for things like fighting or riding or learning magic." "Ah." Lavinet gives you a long, disapproving look, possibly wondering why on earth you thought she would be the person best-suited for this talk. Beside her, her horse Avonis turns his head and regards you both out of the corner of his eye, as if also confused by your presence here. "Well," Lavinet begins slowly, still running her brush through Avonis's mane as the wheels in her head clearly turn, "it's quite simple, really…" She proceeds to tell Caine the bare facts of the matter, plainly and matter-of-factly and a little blankly, as if still confused about what the fuss is all about. Caine listens attentively, and though he tries to hide it, his face has transformed into one of faint disappointment by the end of things. "Oh," he says. "So it's like… farm animals? I knew about <i>them</i>. I just thought humans were different." At this, Lavinet laughs slightly. "Well, of course they are, darling. Animals don't have courtship, or marriage…" "Well, birds and things do," Caine points out then, shrewd and precocious now. "They have mating rituals, don't they, where they show each other pretty feathers and things? And some animals stay together forever, like a married couple. So how's it that different?" Lavinet sends you a look of galled silence. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Caine's right. It's really not that different."</div>' 'autogenerated_68096'>><<setlavinet -2>><<set $lavinetromanceflag -= 5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You'll understand the difference when you're older, Caine."</div>' 'autogenerated_68097'>><<setlavinet +1>><</link>> <<if ($prihinesafe is true) or ($bothsafe is true)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Wait to see what else Caine will say.</div>' 'waittoseewhatelsecainewillsay'>><</link>><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

Caine nods to you, gratified, as Lavinet gives you a look of abject horror. <<include 'lavinetwaitforprihine'>>

<<nobr>><<if $lavinetromanceflag >= 5>> <<set $lavinetromanceflag += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> Lavinet casts you a gratified look while Caine looks nonplussed. <<include 'lavinetwaitforprihine'>>

"And anyway," the boy continues blithely, "stuff like marriage doesn't seem all that great, anyway. <i>Prihine</i> definitely didn't think so. You're her cousin, aren't you?" Lavinet blinks rapidly. "That is true," she concedes cautiously. Caine gives her a supremely dubious look, as if that's told him all he needs to know about her opinions. <<include "caineobliviouslaugh">>

"Well, thanks for explaining, anyway," he says, his tone now brisk. He seems totally unfazed by what he's just learned, and he gives you a kind of formal, soldierly nod. "<<c firstname>>, want to see my rock collection? Ayla told me about geodes, and I've been finding 'em <i>everywhere</i>!" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Caine, shouldn't you offer to show Lavinet your rocks, too?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68098'>><<setlavinet +2>><<setloyal +2>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Oh, uh, sure..."</div>' 'lavinetfinale'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Sure, lead the way."</div>' 'lavinetfinale'>><<setlavinet -1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $lavinetromanceflag >= 10>> <<set $lavinetromanceflag += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> Caine turns expectantly to Lavinet, who blinks rapidly before she murmurs, "Perhaps some other time." She smiles quickly at you from over Caine's head. "But I appreciate the invitation. Very much." Caine nods, as if he expected this, and promptly marches away. <<include 'lavinetfinale'>>

You exchange an apologetic look with Lavinet before you turn and allow Caine to lead you away; the boy is chattering rapidfire now about his rock collection, seemingly having forgotten all about what you were just talking about. As you leave the stables, you hear Lavinet murmuring to Avonis: "…This is the strangest place we've ever been in, my friend." <<page_break "Next" "caineendvisit">>

<<set $caineharden to false>>You poke your head in to check on Caine, only to find him sitting at a small desk squeezed into an unused office—really more like a closet—in the administrative wing of the Shepherds' tower. Your young friend is busily scribbling away with a stack of books and ledgers at his elbow, his hands smudged with ink and the look on his face one of utter misery. He looks up dolefully at your inquiry to spend time together and answers in a pained voice: "Can't. Riel and Shery said I've got to finish this before I can go off-duty for today." "What is it?" you ask, venturing closer to peer at his packet of papers. "Homework," Caine says disgustedly. "They said I've got to learn my numbers and letters better if I'm going to help the Order when I grow up. But I <i>know</i> my numbers and letters! I went to school before I left home, and the Kinley Traders taught me how to manage books!" You doubt that a twelve-year-old apprentice received enough of an education to really be given responsibility over a business's account books, but at the same time, in what situation would he have to do that? Looking closer at his assignments, you see that he's working through a variety of tasks, including higher-level math, legal contract language, and the very basics of the Elvish alphabet. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Oh, $god."</div>' 'autogenerated_68099'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"...I'll talk to Shery and Riel."</div>' 'autogenerated_68100'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"This is your opportunity to better yourself, Caine. View it as a privilege, not a punishment. A lot of kids would kill to have the kind of education you're receiving."</div>' 'autogenerated_68101'>><<setintelligence +1>><<setshery +1>><<setriel +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm sure they have good reasons for wanting you to learn this."</div>' 'autogenerated_68102'>><<setshery +1>><<setriel +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"Right?" Caine scowls in agreement. "This has gotta be against the law or something!" <<include 'cainerieloffice'>>

Caine's face brightens with hope. "Okay!" <<include 'cainerieloffice'>>

Caine looks mutinous. "Let <i>them</i> do it, then," he mutters under his breath. <<include 'cainerieloffice'>>

Caine looks doubtful and simply shrugs. <<include 'cainerieloffice'>>

You nip over to the hall that holds Riel and Shery's offices, among others. Coincidentally, the quartermaster and merchant leader are huddled in conference in Riel's tastefully-appointed office, poring over a spread of complex-looking documents together. You watch as their heads, one pale and one dark, lift simultaneously at your entrance: Riel quirks a brow, undoubtedly already deducing what you've come for, while Shery offers you a shy smile in greeting. You lean your shoulder against the mantle of Riel's office door. "You're having Caine learn contract language?" Riel and Shery exchange glances. Ever since Riel came and declared his intention to overhaul the Order's bureaucratic process, the two of them have worked closely together, and seemingly have become fast friends in the process: you scarcely have seen two people work with such synchronization, which also allows Aerin to focus more on Merchants Guild business as Riel's proxy. Riel sets down his papers and answers, "It's a necessary part of his apprenticeship. Right now, he acts as an assistant to Shery, but the errands he runs could be accomplished by any willing body: he primarily does labor, running back and forth with messages or packages, tallying up certain supplies or keeping track of what needs replenishing or maintenance in the stables or the armory. But anyone could do that. If he's to be of more use to the Order when he grows up—an aspiration Caine himself has expressed—he needs to learn skills that the Shepherds will actually need. Understanding contracts and negotiating with our merchants and vendors is one small part of it, yes. But basic diplomacy, advanced math, and an understanding of the law, Continental politics, and the economy will help him become a valuable leader in our organization." Riel and Shery exchange glances. Ever since Riel came and declared his intention to overhaul the Order's bureaucratic process, the two of them have worked closely together, and seemingly have become fast friends in the process: you scarcely have seen two people work with such synchronization, which also allows Aerin to focus more on Merchants Guild business as Riel's proxy. Riel sets down his papers and answers, "It's a necessary part of his apprenticeship. Right now, he acts as an assistant to Shery, but the errands he runs could be accomplished by any willing body: he primarily does labor, running back and forth with messages or packages, tallying up certain supplies or keeping track of what needs replenishing or maintenance in the stables or the armory. But anyone could do that. If he's to be of more use to the Order when he grows up—an aspiration Caine himself has expressed—he needs to learn skills that the Shepherds will actually need. Understanding contracts and negotiating with our merchants and vendors is one small part of it, yes. But basic diplomacy, advanced math, and an understanding of the law, Continental politics, and the economy will help him become a valuable leader in our organization." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"He's <i>twelve</i>, Riel."</div>' 'autogenerated_68103'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"That's if Caine <i>wants</i> to be a leader. What if he wants to be an ordinary officer and serve in the field?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68104'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"It just seems like you're working him awfully hard..."</div>' 'autogenerated_68105'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I see. That's an interesting vision of the future for him."</div>' 'autogenerated_68106'>><<setriel +1>><<setshery +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

The merchant leader shrugs his spindly shoulders. "I was doing more at eleven." At your eyeroll, Shery puts in hastily: "There <i>is</i> another reason why we've assigned him that workload, <<c firstname>>. We, um, thought that a little more structure or discipline would be helpful…" <<include 'rielexplainscaine'>>

"As a combatant?" Riel frowns. "I think he has the potential to go further than that, but if that's what he chooses, it's not as if these skills will hamper him." Shery puts in, "There's also another reason why we've assigned him that workload, <<c firstname>>. We, um, thought that a little more structure or discipline would be helpful…" <<include 'rielexplainscaine'>>

Shery puts in hastily, "There is another reason why we've assigned him that workload, <<c firstname>>. We, um, thought that a little more structure or discipline would be helpful…" <<include 'rielexplainscaine'>>

You can see it now: a grown-up Caine, sensible, steady, helpful, and utterly in control as he issues orders and rallies other Shepherds under his command, or serves as a diplomatic representative to serve the Shepherds' interests, perhaps abroad… Shery puts in awkwardly, "There's also another reason why we've assigned him that workload, <<c firstname>>. We, um, thought that a little more structure or discipline would be helpful…" <<include 'rielexplainscaine'>>

"It was necessary," Riel says in a tart voice. "That fool thief and Trouble have gotten to the boy, <<c firstname>>. They've taught him how to pick locks and fed his love of…" His lip curls up in brief disgust. "…<i>pranks</i>. He's taken to devoting much of his time scheming up little mischiefs that waste a lot of everyone's time. I don't suppose he told you that part, did he?" At your head shake, Riel makes a little tipping flourish of his hand, as if to say, <i>So, then</i>, and turns back to his papers without comment. Shery offers you an apologetic smile and adds, "We're trying to be moderating influences for him, <<c firstname>>. The assignments are a necessary part of his shift at the moment. But I'm sure that when he's done, he can come join you. I'm sure it will serve as extra motivation for him to finish the work quickly!" You are not a part of Caine's direct chain-of-command, so for the moment, you decide to yield to the structure of Caine's set duties and take your leave. You had a few errands to run on your own, anyway. <<page_break "..." "cainescene2">>

However, only a scant few hours later, you return to the compound, make your way through a side courtyard, and are caught by the sight of Trouble, Chase, and Caine snickering together on the stack of tiered stone steps that serves as a kind of amphitheater for the Order, just large enough for about twenty recruits to gather and sit during outdoor lectures or demonstrations. Caine has a look of mischievous delight on his face as he claps his hands over his mouth, trying to restrain his giggles, while Trouble is stretched back across two stone tiers, leaning on his elbows and grinning as he listens to Chase animatedly talk while he paces. The three of them fall suspiciously silent as you draw near, though Trouble and Chase turn to you with welcoming grins. Caine, however, looks unusually abashed. You narrow your eyes at them. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"...What have you done?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68107'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Caine, I thought you had homework to do."</div>' 'autogenerated_68108'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"What mischief did you get up to, and why didn't you include me?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68109'>><<settrouble +1>><<setchase +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"Just a bit of fun," Chase answers innocently. "The kid needed it, $nickname. He's been cooped up all week, slaving away at math and economics. He's a growing young lad. He needs some sunshine and fun every once in a while." <<include 'cainelocks'>>

"Uh…" Caine shoots a panicked look at the other two. Chase answers for him: "Aw, have pity for the kid, $nickname. He's been cooped up all week, slaving away at math and economics. He's a growing young lad. He needs some sunshine and fun every once in a while." <<include 'cainelocks'>>

"You were out," Trouble returns with an easy grin. "Else we would have definitely roped you in." <<include 'cainelocks'>>

You cross your arms. "And what's this I hear about you teaching Caine to <i>pick locks</i>?" "Now <i>that's</i> just good sense," the thief returns, unfazed. "I'd argue everybody ought to learn it. In our line of work, you never know when you'll need it. What if he got captured and needed to escape, or got himself locked away in some Vault down in the Tower depths? Trubs and I both learned it as kids." <<nobr>><<if $troubleequalist>> <br><br> "It could have helped the kids who got captured by the Equalists," Trouble adds sagely. "We didn't want Caine to ever got caught out in the same position. A stitch in time saves nine, and all that." <</if>><</nobr>> "It'll help when I become an officer," Caine chimes in. "It'll give me an advantage on missions, you know? Like the people on Chase's squad, or the Commander's. It makes me a better Shepherd." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You are <i>never</i> going on missions, Caine. Not if I can help it."</div>' 'autogenerated_68110'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Okay, point taken. It is a valuable skill."</div>' 'autogenerated_68111'>><<settrouble +1>><<setchase +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"And that's what you really want, Caine? To be a Lunar Corps officer, not in Solar Corps?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68112'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"It's only helpful if you also teach him how to be responsible with it. We can't have a kid running around picking locks."</div>' 'autogenerated_68113'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Instantly, Chase and Trouble shoot you covert glances, Chase's dubious while Trouble's is startled. Caine's jaw clicks shut, his good mood instantly evaporated in the face of your sudden declaration. "What? But—" He sputters for a moment, then looks around at Chase and Trouble, who hold up their hands, as if to say, <i>Don't look at me, buddy.</i> "But—but—you can't <i>do</i> that! <<nobr>><<if $cainefight is true>> Why'd you even teach me how to fight if—?" <br><br> "I taught you how to fight so you could defend yourself if need be," you answer firmly. "Not so you could go out into the field and put yourself in willing danger. Besides, I'm the person who recruited you to this Order. I think that gives me a say in what you do for it. I had you join because I thought it was safer than having you run around on your own in the city, and I could keep an eye on you. But if it's actually more dangerous for you to be here, I can take you out just as easily as I took you in." <<else>> You're not my <<if $gender is "male">> father!" <<elseif $gender is "female">> mother!" <<else>> parent!" <</if>> <br><br> "Maybe not," you return steadily, "but I am the person who recruited you to this Order. I think that gives me a say in what you do for it. I had you join because I thought it was safer than having you run around on your own in the city, and I could keep an eye on you. But if it's actually more dangerous for you to be here, I can take you out just as easily as I took you in." <</if>><</nobr>> Chase watches all of this with his hands in his pockets, his eyebrows raised; from behind Caine, Trouble gives you a minute, frantic shake of his head and makes an abortive motion with his hand, as if to say, <i>No. Stop now.</i> But you hold firm. You have seen enough gore, pain, and terror in your line of work—the Faceless Lords, Revenants decimating entire villages, cultists disemboweling their victims in bloody rituals—that you know you will never allow Caine to experience the same things when he doesn't have to. Caine flushes angrily, and, eyes sparking, he whirls and runs off without another word. <<include 'caineargumentfallout5'>>

All three of them beam at you. "More valuable than <i>international trade agreements</i>, anyway," Chase adds in an undertone. <<include 'taughtcaineskills'>>

Caine looks at you, slightly dumbfounded, as if the answer to your question is obvious. "'Course I want to be a Lunar Corps officer!" he chirps. "Just like you, and Commander Blade, and Trouble, and Chase…" "I like that he said two other people first," Chase remarks dryly to Trouble, who laughs. "Even though <i>we're</i> the ones who taught him all this…" <<include 'taughtcaineskills'>>

Trouble coughs uneasily, while Chase makes a humming sound, stroking his chin in a show of mock-thoughtfulness. "Hmm. I suppose that is something worth considering." He glances at Trouble, who rolls his eyes. "See? I <i>told</i> you we need <<c firstname>> around. <<c she>><<nobr>><<if $plural is true>>'re<<else>>'s<</if>><</nobr>> the only brains between the three of us." In a little while, a gaggle of Caine's friends arrive to fetch him, and he takes off with them without another backwards glance. You, Chase, and Trouble decide to head indoors to grab a bite to eat, still deep in conversation all the while. <<include 'rielentersflour'>>

<<page_break "..." "caineargumentfallout">>

After a long, awkward silence, Chase whistles softly. "Well," he says in an attempt at breeziness, "he'll get over this in a little while, <<c firstname>>. I'm sure he'll be right as rain the next time you see him." You nod—Caine's spirits bounce back with notorious ease—but you hope the boy doesn't think you're not serious. You meant every word you just said. In a little while, you, Chase, and Trouble decide to head indoors to grab a bite to eat, still talking all the while. <<include "rielentersflour">>

"And what else were you planning as a part of Caine's education?" you ask. Trouble glances sidelong at Caine, then shrugs. "Well, kid's gotta learn how to shoot sometime..." Caine's excited grin is wide enough to crack his face in half. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"No. No. No."</div>' 'autogenerated_68114'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I fear the day either of you ever become fathers."</div>' 'autogenerated_68115'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Hmm. I was thinking along the same lines, myself."</div>' 'autogenerated_68116'>><<settrouble +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Caine's expression immediately turns crestfallen, while Trouble laughs and holds his hands up in surrender. "All right, all right, I yield. I'll wait until he's older." <<include 'cainefriendsgather'>>

<<nobr>><<if ($highestromance is "trouble" and $troubleromanceflag >= 20)>> Unperturbed, Trouble sends you a sunny smile, beckoning you over to sit alongside him and potentially sling your legs over his. "Aw, don't say that, $halfname. It'll be fun!" <<elseif (($highestromance is "chase" and $chaseromanceflag >= 20)) or ($chasesex)>> Chase sends you a sparkling smile, slinging his arms over your shoulders as he drapes himself over your back, rubbing his cheek against yours. "You say that now, sweetheart, but I have the feeling that there'll be a day where you rue your words…" <<else>> Trouble gives a hearty laugh. "That's harsh, $halfname. My kids are going to be expert sharpshooters, just like their pa." <br><br> "Not me," Chase quips, tousling Caine's hair. "Caine's the closest thing I'm going to have to a kid. I'm going to teach him everything I know." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'cainefriendsgather'>>

Caine looks so excited that he practically vibrates out of his seat. <<include 'cainefriendsgather'>>

In a little while, a gaggle of Caine's friends arrive to fetch him, and he takes off with them without another backwards glance. You, Chase, and Trouble decide to head indoors to grab a bite to eat, still deep in conversation all the while. <<include "rielentersflour">>

Inside, you find most of your friends already gathered at your usual table, though it's rare for everyone to make an appearance like this before the official evening meal. Red and Briony are in the midst of one of their tutoring sessions, looking over a spellbook while cramming in an afternoon snack; Ayla watches them idly, grazing on an apple and pointing out mistakes or contradictions in their thinking around mouthfuls of the fruit. Tallys and Halek are sharing a pot of tea and a game of Elements. Blade is having a cup of khav. <<nobr>><<if $lavinetjoin>> Lavinet is enjoying a glass of iced lemonade, looking tired after a long training session outside. <</if>><</nobr>> With your arrival, everyone is present except for Shery and Riel, and they show up within a handful of minutes: Riel's nostrils are thin with frigid disdain, while Shery looks sheepish and embarrassed, self-consciously brushing what looks like flour out of her hair. Instantly, Trouble grimaces as they take a seat at the table. "Ah, sorry, Sher." Tallys narrows her eyes at him as Briony exclaims over Shery's appearance, handing her a grubby handkerchief to wipe off her skirt. "<i>You</i> did this?" "Not me," Trouble answers defensively. "But I, ah, <i>heard</i> about it. And I know it wasn't meant for her." "It was meant for me," Riel says in his usual icy tone, his blue eyes narrowed to slits as he glares at Trouble and Chase from across the table. "It was Caine's doing, of course. He rigged a rudimentary flour trap—which he learned from <i>you</i>, presumably"—this he lobs at Chase, who raises his hands as if to fend off an arrow—"but caught Shery in the crossfire instead of me. Retaliation, I presume, for my forcing him to do coursework." "It's true he did pick it up from me," Chase says equitably, "but that's only because he walked in on us rigging Red's office with a bucket of fake spiders the last time. I didn't <i>purposefully</i> teach it to him." "Wait, what?" Red puts in. "And if he does have enough ire towards you to prank your office, Riel, maybe that's some food for thought. You're not his tutor or his instructor, you know. What if he doesn't <i>want</i> to book-learn?" "What he <i>wants</i> doesn't much matter," Riel returns acidly. "He's twelve. His brain isn't fully-formed, though I daresay the same thing of you. His principal concerns are seeing his friends and learning how to ride an ahfuri. He's not thinking about his future. But I am." "You do him too little credit," Chase replies. "He's a kid, sure, but that doesn't mean you can just mold him into something he's <i>not</i>. You're trying to make him a mini-version of you." "And you are not?" "No. The kid's already got a mischievous side, in case you couldn't tell. He drops grapes on people from the roof, and I didn't have anything to do with that. Him and his street-friends get into mud-throwing fights and lob tomatoes and knick pies sometimes. He likes to have fun. So what? He's still a good kid." "But he is also a member of this Order," Riel says in aggrieved, pained tones. "Regardless of his age, he wears our colors. Do we really encourage him to steal pies and… participate in urchin wars… simply because he's young, or do we prune him into the adult he claims to want to be, equipping him with the skills that will best help him in the future?" "You take it too seriously!" Briony bursts in then. "If you overload him with work, you'll suffocate him and his sense of fun." "I agree," Halek comments idly, a rarity for him. "I went through the same thing when I was younger. My tutors tried to drill me with work, shape me into the <i>sol</i> I was supposed to be, and…" He gives a vague, weary gesture towards himself. "…This is the result." "Oof," you hear Ayla mutter. "What do you think, Shery?" Blade asks then, leveling a look at her. "You are his direct superior." The quartermaster flushes under your collective scrutiny, but she stammers faintly after a moment: "I think it's better to have Caine focus on his education. For one thing, it will help me in my own work, and that <i>is</i> what an apprentice is for. He's also very clever, possibly more than he realizes. Right now he's focused on, um, regular boyhood things, but I think his potential as a scholar is quite high, especially if his interest is properly piqued. And…" She blushes further. "…It isn't just Riel who decided his curriculum. It was me, as well." From there, the conversation devolves into more debate, though it's more academic in nature than truly heated. You're not sure how Caine would feel, knowing a dozen of the Shepherds' most powerful figures are involved in an argument over his upbringing and future, but eventually the lines make themselves quite clear: Blade, Tallys, Shery, Riel, <<nobr>><<if $lavinetjoin>>Lavinet, <</if>><</nobr>>and Red fall more on the side of focusing Caine's apprenticeship on education, training, and discipline, while Trouble, Chase, Ayla, Briony, and Halek argue for letting him have fun and enjoy his youth without constraint. But eventually, of course, all eyes at the table turn to you. As the person who recruited Caine to the Order as well as the one with the closest relationship to him, it's your word that will have the most weight here. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I say let him have fun. He can make his own choices about his future when he's older."</div>' 'autogenerated_68117'>><<setchase +1>><<settrouble +1>><<sethalek +1>><<setayla +1>><<setbriony +1>><<setblade -1>><<setriel -1>><<setshery -1>><<settallys -1>><<setred -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I say keep at it with the schooling. He'll be grateful for it when he's older."</div>' 'autogenerated_68118'>><<setriel +1>><<setshery +1>><<setblade +1>><<settallys +1>><<setred +1>><<setayla -1>><<settrouble -1>><<setchase -1>><<setbriony -1>><<sethalek -1>><<set $caineharden to true>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Isn't there some kind of middle ground? Letting him be a kid sometimes while also teaching him good lessons so he won't run totally wild?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68119'>><<setriel -1>><<setchase -1>><<sethalek -1>><<setblade -1>><<settrouble +1>><<setshery +1>><<setbriony +1>><<setayla +1>><<setred +1>><<settallys +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I really don't think this is that important. None of us are his parents."</div>' 'autogenerated_68120'>><<settrouble -1>><<setchase -1>><<setshery -1>><<setriel -1>><<setblade -1>><<settallys -1>><<setbriony -1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $lavinetjoin>> <<setlavinet -1>> <</if>><</nobr>> Chase smiles with cat-like satisfaction at this assessment, while Riel sighs and shakes his head, taking a fortifying sip of his tea. <<include 'cainedebateresolve'>>

<<nobr>><<if $lavinetjoin>> <<setlavinet +1>> <</if>><</nobr>> Riel smiles, looking satisfied with your assessment, while Chase sighs, though he seems to accept this. <<include 'cainedebateresolve'>>

"I think that's more difficult to execute in practice than it is to propose in concept," Riel says in slightly exasperated tones, "but point taken." "The lines are very hard to see, sometimes," Shery murmurs, shaking her head. <<include 'cainedebateresolve'>>

Several people around the table glance at you in surprise at this comment. Ayla, raising her brows, says slowly, "I guess that's true." "We may not be his parents, but we are his guardians," Blade cuts in then. "We became so when we took him on as an apprentice. We have a responsibility to give him the best leadership possible—the same is true of any of our cadets, recruits, apprentices, and officers. It is a failure of our organization to think otherwise." <<include 'cainedebateresolve'>>

The conversation moves on from there, sometimes breaking up into separate clusters and then reforming into a larger group discussion: you talk about a recent mission, the latest play in town, a reference to the Shepherds in the most recent issue of the local newspaper. Even as the talk washes over you, however, you find your thoughts dwelling on Caine, wondering where he is right now. What he's getting up to. How much say do you have in his life, really? What will he be like when he grows up? What responsibility do you have to him—you, the person who saved his young life that fateful day of Prihine's wedding? <i>It's too early to be worrying about any of this,</i> another voice in your head argues. <i>And don't forget—his <b>real</b> parent is out there somewhere.</i> Not that you'll ever get the chance to talk with her about any of this…. if she even cares. Shaking your head, you decide to enjoy your time with your friends and set these questions aside for some other day. <<include "caineover">>

<<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "dayoff">><<set $cainetime += 1>><</link>>

<<audio ":playing" fadeoverto 5 0>> <<if $chasetime is 0>> <<include "chaseinterlude1">> <<elseif $chasetime is 1>> <<include "chaseinterlude2">> <<elseif $chasetime is 2>> <<include "chaseinterlude3">> <<elseif $chasetime is 3>> <<include "chaseinterlude4">> <<elseif $chasetime is 4>> <<include "chaseinterlude5">> <<else>> [This section is INCOMPLETE. Please check back later!] <br><br> <<if $capradayoff is true>> <<page_break "Next" "dayoff42">> <<else>> <<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "dayoff">><<set $dayoff -= 1>><</link>> <</if>> <</if>>

<<setchase +5>>Chase grins as you approach him in the courtyard. "Ah, sunshine," he says, his light voice as smooth as poured honey. "I knew you couldn't get enough of me. I'm just on my way out, actually: care to join me for a stroll?" <<page_break "Why Not?" "chaserooftops">>

The stroll, as it turns out, happens to be along the rooftops of Haven's tallest buildings. Chase saunters across parapets and cracked brick singles as casually as anything, his hands in his pockets, whistling while he goes. <<nobr>><<if $strength >= 35>> You gamely keep up, matching his agility and grace as he skips lightly across the city's roofs. <<else>> You scramble after him, dislodging pebbles and even a weather-vane or two as you try to keep up. <</if>><</nobr>> <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"...Why are we climbing on the rooftops?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68121'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Someone is going to see us and make us come down."</div>' 'autogenerated_68122'>><<setloyal +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Hey, this is kind of fun."</div>' 'autogenerated_68123'>><<setchase +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Chase waggles his finger. "The better question," he says, "is why don't we walk on rooftops <i>more</i>?" He gestures: at the creamy sky above Haven, at the empty expanse of buildings stretching out beneath you. "It's quicker, more interesting, and empty. No one up here to bother you." He winks at you. "Surprisingly private, in case you want to get up to no good." <<include 'chasewatching'>>

He laughs. "Nah. No one ever looks up, in my experience—they're all too busy going where they're going, worrying about something or another." He gives an airy wave. "Besides, if anyone does spot us, we can just say we're up here on Shepherd business. How would they argue with that?" <<include 'chaseabusepowers'>>

He winks at you. "Isn't it? Take the less-traveled route in life, I always say. It's more interesting... and less crowded." He gestures down at the milieu beneath you as merchants, travelers, and workers all shove against each other in their journey to get to wherever they're going. "Best part is, no one ever thinks to look up. Kind of makes you feel like a king from up here." <<include 'chasewatching'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Stare at him. "That would be an abuse of our powers."</div>' 'autogenerated_68124'>><<setloyal +2>><<setchase -3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"That's true, I suppose..."</div>' 'chasewatching'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I like the way you think."</div>' 'autogenerated_68125'>><<setchase +1>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

He sighs dramatically. "Just like Blade and Riel. Well, if anyone does challenge us, I'll let you explain that a madman forced you up here against your will. Sound good?" He offers you a cheery grin. <<include 'chasewatching'>>

Chase winks and taps his nose. "I get that a lot. I'm known for my brilliance and intelligence, you know." "Is that so?" you joke back. "Because I've heard various others referring to you only as a mad fool or a lunatic. I think Riel even referred to you as... what was it? A straw-headed scarecrow?" Chase lays the back of his hand against his brow in a dramatic gesture. "All nonsense," he says airily. "The only opinion I care about is yours, and you just admitted to my great thinking, so—I am known for my brilliance and intelligence." <<include 'chasewatching'>>

He balances easily along the length of a wooden beam, pretending to wobble dramatically as if walking a tightrope. You try not to let the motion make you nervous. "What would you do if I fell?" Chase asks jokingly. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'd call for help, of course."</div>' 'autogenerated_68126'>><</link>> <<if $specialization is "healer">><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'd heal you."</div>' 'autogenerated_68127'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I wouldn't let you fall. I'd catch you."</div>' 'autogenerated_68128'>><<setchase +1>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"What would you do if <i>I</i> fell? You're the one making me come up here."</div>' 'autogenerated_68129'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Chase nods. "The respectable solution," he says. "Though if I were dumb enough to fall, I'd rather you just leave me in a broken heap on the ground. Don't associate yourself with an idiot like me." <<include 'chaselookout'>>

Chase's look brightens. "Hey, that's true—that's a useful talent to have. I've never known many Mages; if you'd come around sooner, I wouldn't have so many scars." You look at him. Aside from a very light scar on the right part of his chin, you don't see many. "You don't have scars," you point out to him. Chase gives you a cheeky grin. "They're all under my clothes, darling." <<include 'chaselookout'>>

He winks at you. "And then I'd be right where you want me: safe and swooning in your arms." <<include 'chaselookout'>>

He tuts at you. "I'd never let you fall, sweetling," he says, winking at you. "I'd fling myself on the blades of Tapyt before I ever let that happen." <<include 'chaselookout'>>

Finally, he somersaults down and sits heavily on a ledge guarded by a great stone gargoyle, leaning back on his hands and surveying the city. He glances over his shoulder at you and smiles. "Want to sit?" As you oblige, sitting on the other side of the craggy-faced gargoyle, Chase indicates a building across the street with a point of his foot. "Right on time," he says. You look, and you find that he's led you to a rather stately part of Whitestone; the building you and Chase are discretely positioned to look at is some wealthy person's manse, complete with an elegant, flowered terrace and a lovely garden in a high-walled courtyard. You spy a flicker of movement through the upper windows of the manse and see a lady with her brown hair piled high on her head moving through a suite of rooms. She sits down at a giant vanity and begins to powder her cheeks with rouge. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"...Did you bring me up here just to join you in your perverted voyeurism?"</div>' 'chasewatchinglady'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Why are we watching her?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68130'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Who's that?"</div>' 'chaseexplainsnoble'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Chase winks. "It's not her, exactly, that we're watching," he says. "It's her stuff." You arch your brow. "Her... stuff?" <<include 'chaseexplainsnoble'>>

Chase laughs. "You wound me, <<c firstname>>," he says, utterly unfazed by your accusation. "If I wanted to stare at a beautiful person, I could have just stayed at the compound and looked at you." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Roll your eyes.</div>' 'chaseexplainsnoble'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Look away with a blush.</div>' 'chaseexplainsnoble'>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Gaze back at him boldly. "Flatterer."</div>' 'autogenerated_68131'>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

He winks. "That's me." <<include 'chaseexplainsnoble'>>

"She," he says in a conspiratorial tone, "is the wife of one of the biggest arms dealers in Haven. And she's nobility, to boot: even though he's essentially a puffed-up merchant, he somehow seduced a high-born lady into marrying him. I've heard her dowry was enough to buy an entire town." He glances at you, his eyes cheerful yet somehow calculating. "Now... what would you say the most valuable thing in that house is?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Her jewelry?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68132'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Her dowry?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68133'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Hidden money?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68134'>><</link>> <<if ($compassionate < 45) or ($cunning >= 30)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"The woman herself?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68135'>><<setcunning +1>><<setcompassionate -2>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($intelligence >= 40) and ($cunning >= 30)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Their documents?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68136'>><<setchase +3>><<setintelligence +1>><<setcunning +1>><</link>><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

Chase shakes his head. "Baubles," he says. "You could sell them off to a fence for a pretty penny, but it wouldn't last all that long. No, I've got something else in mind." <<include 'chasedocs'>>

Chase shakes his head. "That'll be long-spent by now," he says. "They married years ago. No, I've got something else in mind." <<include 'chasedocs'>>

Chase tilts his head thoughtfully. "That's a good guess," he says. "Nobles always stash away hefty sums in their houses. But what I've got in mind is worth even more." <<include 'chasedocs'>>

Chase's eyebrows rocket up, and he looks half-startled by your audacity. "That's... true," he says slowly, with a crooked, sheepish smile. "Kidnap her and ask him for a ransom, he'd likely pay a fortune. But we're not in the kidnapping business—and I've got something else in mind." <<include 'chasedocs'>>

Chase's eyebrows lift; he clearly wasn't expecting this response. "Right," he says, clearly impressed. He winks at you. "Their docs. The deed to their house, their marriage license, proof of business transactions and property contracts... It doesn't do much more than inconvenience them if those are gone—they can track down copies from their partners or what have you—but most nobles are willing to pay a handsome sum to get the originals back. Save themselves the embarrassment. I just need to figure out where they might keep them." <<include 'chasedocs2'>>

"Their docs," Chase says, sitting in a springy crouch now and bouncing on the balls of his feet. "The deed to their house, their marriage license, proof of their business transactions and property contracts. It doesn't do much more than inconvenience them—they can track down copies from their partners or what have you—but most nobles are willing a handsome fee to pay to get the originals back. Save themselves the embarrassment. I just need to figure out where they might keep them." <<include "chasedocs2">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Interesting. Maybe I can help."</div>' 'interestingmaybeicanhelp'>><<setchase +1>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"That sounds wrong. It <i>is</i> wrong. They didn't do a thing to you."</div>' 'thatsoundswrong'>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setloyal +1>><<setchase -10>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Are nobles really willing to just let you go after you've blackmailed them?"</div>' 'arenoblesreally'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Chase grins. "Only in theory, sunshine, only in theory. We've got a whole guild of professionals for the action part, though I don't doubt you'd make a fine thief yourself." <<include "chaselockpicking">>

Chase's smile never wavers, but you sense how he withdraws from you. "Would it change your mind to hear that they make weapons for the Autarchy, specifically to hurt Diminished?" he asks lightly. "And all their wealth is built from profiting off of the suffering of Diminished? How about the fact that they kidnapped the daughter of a competitor—in very nice terms, of course, saying they were going to be her patrons, take her under their wing—and then she mysteriously disappeared after their rival wouldn't give in to their demands? That help you stomach it?" <<include "chaselockpicking">>

"Oh, no, they send the hounds of Hael after us once they get their things back," he says with a grin. "We're just smarter, faster, and better." <<include "chaselockpicking">>

He turns and produces something out of his pocket: it looks like a complicated sort of lock, of the kind they put on safes. It's fastened shut at the moment. "I've been staking out this place for a while now, trying to figure out where their safe is. Heists of this kind only last around three or five minutes tops, from entry to exit, so I've got to find the window closest to the stash. In the meantime, I've been working on the lock, too." He shows it to you. "This is a replica of the one in their house." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"How did you get that?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68137'>><</link>> <<if ($astral > 10) or ($magic > 25)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Pass a hand over the lock and magic it open.</div>' 'autogenerated_68138'>><<setmagic +1>><<setloyal -2>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($astral < 10) and ($magic <= 25)>><div class="inactive-item">Pass a hand over the lock and magic it open.</div><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"What, the master thief can't open a lock?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68139'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Give it a try yourself.</div>' 'autogenerated_68140'>><<setintelligence +1>><<setcourage +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $chase > 45>> Chase looks just a little smug. "Contact at the safe-builder's factory," he says. "Most of the time I can track down exactly what order a noble made and have a replica made of it, though it takes lot of coin and work." <<else>> "Ah," Chase says. "A tradesman never reveals his secrets—at least not for free." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'chasetalktime'>>

The lock pops open with a satisfying click, and Chase laughs. "That's a neat trick," he says. "I admit, it would be very useful to have a Mage like you in our guild—but of course, it's always been a devil of a time finding one who's willing to use their powers at all in the face of the Autarchy, let alone in the service of additional crimes." He clasps the lock shut again. "Besides, practical, tactile skills are worth learning, too. You could be in a situation where you can't use your magic... and knowing how to pick a lock by hand could save your life." <<include 'chasetalktime'>>

He sniffs. "Give me some time," he says. "Like a fine wine, my process is long, but worth it." <<include 'chasetalktime'>>

You run your hands over the heavy brass lock for several minutes. It seems to be a combination of a lock requiring a key, a combination lock, and some sort of other tumbling mechanism. You don't even know where to start. Bemused, you pass it back to Chase, who says with a laugh: "Don't worry about it. If it's giving a pro like me trouble, I wouldn't expect you to solve it instantly." <<include 'chasetalktime'>>

<<set $chasestatus to "You helped him stake out a potential heist, and learned some things about him in the process.">> Finally, he puts the lock away and leans back on his hands again, smiling at you in a distinctly-feline manner, his eyes half-closed. "So," he says, sly or relaxed—or both. "I've got to stick around here and watch her—it's my turn for that duty today—but I'm glad you're here with me, sunshine. We can talk." <<include "chasetalk1">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("chasenickname")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Why do you call me sunshine?"</div>' 'chasenickname'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("chasethiefing")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"How did you get into thieving?"</div>' 'chasethiefing'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("chasehaven")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"So... did you grow up around here? You seem awfully familiar with Haven."</div>' 'chasehaven'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("chaselockpicks")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Can you teach me how to pick that lock?"</div>' 'chaselockpicks'>><<setchase +1>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("chaseinteresting")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"You're a very interesting person, Chase."</div>' 'chaseinteresting'>><<setchase +1>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("chaseliking")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"How are you liking the Shepherds so far?"</div>' 'chaseliking'>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($chaseromanceflag >= 5) and (not hasVisited("chaseromance"))>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Can I ask... do you have anyone in your life?"</div>' 'chaseromance'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">He seems tired of talking about himself, so you tell him about yourself.</div>' 'chasegifts'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

He blinks, considering the question, then tilts his head. "I dunno," Chase admits finally. "I give everyone nicknames, if you haven't noticed. But for you... I don't know. There's something about you. You seem to shine, or... there's something about you that's glowing. So..." He shrugs. "So that's what you seem like, to me." Then he cocks his head at you. "Why, you don't like it?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"No, I do. I was just wondering."</div>' 'autogenerated_68141'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I love it. I sort of want to give you a nickname, too."</div>' 'autogenerated_68142'>><<setchase +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"To be honest, not really."</div>' 'nicknamechange'>><<setchase -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I hate it."</div>' 'nicknamechange'>><<setchase -5>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

He smiles. "Ah. Well, there you have it. You are the sun to my moon." <<include 'chasetalk1'>>

He laughs a little. "Well, you can feel free," he says, "but truth be told I feel like so much of my life is spent using monikers, you know? Crooked King... Prince of Thieves... It's sort of nice to have someone call me by my real name." <<include 'chasenamereaction'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Meet his eye and say his name slowly... breathily... "Chase."</div>' 'autogenerated_68143'>><<setcourage +1>><<setcharisma +1>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Nod. "That makes sense."</div>' 'autogenerated_68144'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Give him an innocent smile. "Then I'll be sure to say it a lot."</div>' 'autogenerated_68145'>><<setchase +1>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

He gives you a wicked, sharp-looking grin. "Careful, now, darling," he says, still nonchalant and at ease. "You're going to give me the wrong idea if you keep that up." <<include 'chaseflirtyreaction'>>

He gives you a fleeting smile. "Thanks. It's ironic, I know." <<include 'chasetalk1'>>

He snorts suddenly. "I don't think you realize how suggestive your meaning could be," he says, amused. "But I like your innocence." <<include 'chasetalk1'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if ($courage >= 20) and ($attractedto is not "women")>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"What if I want to give you the wrong idea?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68146'>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Hm? I don't know what you mean..."</div>' 'autogenerated_68147'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Fine, I'll behave."</div>' 'autogenerated_68148'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

He looks at you, his eyes lazily half-lidded and a smirk curling around his mouth. "Then I'd tell you it's a dangerous game you're playing," he teases. "But then again, I rather think you like danger." <<include 'chasetalk1'>>

He smirks. "You play innocent, but we both know what you're up to." <<include 'chasetalk1'>>

He laughs. "Good." <<include 'chasetalk1'>>

"Oh." Chase frowns. "Sorry about that, then. I didn't realize. Is there another nickname you'd like to go by, or...?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I don't want you to call me by a nickname at all."</div>' 'autogenerated_68149'>><<set $nickname to $firstname>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I don't mind a nickname, but do you have any other suggestions for one?"</div>' 'chasesuggestnicknames'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I have a nickname already."</div>' 'autogenerated_68150'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I prefer to go by a shortened version of my first name."</div>' 'autogenerated_68151'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Chase nods. "Duly noted." <<include 'chasetalk1'>>

Chase tilts his head. "Go on then, what is it?" <<include 'chaseinputnickname'>>

Chase tilts his head. "So the short version would be...?" <<include 'chaseshortname'>>

Chase thinks about it. "Bright eyes?" he offers. "Partner? Hot shot?" He gives you a quick grin. "All accurate to you, of course." "I like..." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"...partner."</div>' 'chaseconfirmnickname'>><<set $nickname to "partner">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"...bright eyes."</div>' 'chaseconfirmnickname'>><<set $nickname to "bright eyes">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"...hot shot."</div>' 'chaseconfirmnickname'>><<set $nickname to "hot shot">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"...trouble-maker."</div>' 'chaseconfirmnickname'>><<set $nickname to "trouble-maker">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"...slim."</div>' 'chaseconfirmnickname'>><<set $nickname to "slim">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"...beautiful."</div>' 'chaseconfirmnickname'>><<set $nickname to "beautiful">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"...sweetheart."</div>' 'chaseconfirmnickname'>><<set $nickname to "sweetheart">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"...darling."</div>' 'chaseconfirmnickname'>><<set $nickname to "darling">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"...sweetling."</div>' 'chaseconfirmnickname'>><<set $nickname to "sweetling">><</link>> <<if $chaseromanceflag >= 5>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"...love."</div>' 'chaseconfirmnickname'>><<set $nickname to "love">><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"...smalls."</div>' 'chaseconfirmnickname'>><<set $nickname to "smalls">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"...shorty."</div>' 'chaseconfirmnickname'>><<set $nickname to "shorty">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"...sunshine, after all."</div>' 'autogenerated_68152'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Chase grins. "All that fuss for nothing, huh?" <<include 'chasetalk1'>>

"My nickname is <<textbox "$nickname" "">>," you tell him. <<page_break "Next" "chaseinputnickname2">>

"<<c nickname>>," Chase says out loud, testing the feel of it on his tongue. "Got it." <<include "chasetalk1">>

"People usually shorten <<c firstname>> to <<textbox "$halfname" "">>," you tell him. <<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "chaseshortname2">><<set $nickname to $halfname>><</link>>

"<<c nickname>>," Chase says out loud, testing the feel of it on his tongue. "Got it." <<include "chasetalk1">>

He smirks. "What a change of topic," he says drolly. Then the thief shrugs. "I... used to be in a different line of work," Chase says, his gaze casual but distant. "A... less pleasant line of work, if you can believe it. Not too different from what ol' Spike—Blade, I mean—used to do, too." He shrugs. "Turns out thieving and stealing requires a very similar skill set. Once I got sick of my old life, it was easy to... transfer over." He stops talking, but it's clear there's a much bigger story behind it all. It just seems like Chase is reluctant to talk about it. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"But how did you become leader of Thieves Guild specifically?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68153'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Do you like being the leader of Thieves Guild?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68154'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Change the topic. It's clear it's a touchy subject for him.</div>' 'autogenerated_68155'>><<setchase +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Chase smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "Can't quite remember," he says airily. "I suppose it just fell into my lap, like most things." Hmmm. <<include 'chasetalk1'>>

He nods. "I like my crew," he says. "And I like the work. So... yeah, I guess I do enjoy it." A little smile flickers at the corner of his mouth, but he says nothing more on the subject. Hmmm. <<include 'chasetalk1'>>

Chase smiles patiently, waiting for your next question. <<include 'chasetalk1'>>

Chase laughs. "It's my business to know it, top to bottom," he answers. "I've got every alleyway and possible escape route memorized, every street corner and gutter and rooftop mapped out. But no, I wasn't born here. I've been here a number of years, though. You could say I'm a Havenite through and through." For such a talkative person, he can be awfully vague when it comes to discussing himself. "So where did you grow up, then?" you ask him. "Where did you come from?" Chase tips his head back to look at the sky. "Originally? I was born in Conte-by-the-sea," he says. "I'm pretty sure in an orphanage. That's the earliest thing I remember, anyway: being surrounded by all these other kids. I never knew my mother; no one knew who she was." He says this all with an air of nonchalance, as if he were relaying the weather. "Then when I was, I don't know, seven or eight, my father came to claim me. So... that's how I left Conte." You blink at him. "But what happened next? Where did he take you? Who was he?" "Ah," Chase says, waggling his finger. "That's a story for another time. I've got to keep you interested somehow." Despite his playful tone, though, you get the sense that he's evading your questions simply because he doesn't want to talk about them. <<include "chasetalk1">>

Chase brightens. "'Course," he says. "Though this one's a more difficult version, obviously—do you know how to pick locks in general?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $lockpick is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Yes, and I've even got my own lockpicking set."</div>' 'autogenerated_68156'>><<setcunning +3>><<setchase +4>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Only the most basic doors."</div>' 'autogenerated_68157'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"No, not at all."</div>' 'autogenerated_68158'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"Well, color me impressed," Chase says, a slight dimple appearing at his left cheek. "You'll be my star pupil, then." <<include 'chaselockteaching'>>

Chase smiles. "That's a good start," he says. "I have no doubt you'll become my star pupil and blow right past me." <<include 'chaselockteaching'>>

Chase nods. "We'll start more basic, then," he says. "You don't start running before you learn to walk." <<include 'chaselockteaching'>>

He spends some time teaching you the mechanics of lockpicking: he's a surprisingly good teacher, cheerful and patient, and you soon pick up his instructions quickly... <<page_break "..." "chaselockresults">>

<<nobr>><<if $lockpick is true>> <<set $lockpickingskill += 2>> <<if settings.notifications is true>> <<notify 7s>> <span class="fas fa-unlock"></span> <span class="desc">You learned intermediary lockpicking!</span> <</notify>> <</if>> <<else>> <<set $lockpickingskill += 1>> <<if settings.notifications is true>> <<notify 7s>> <span class="fas fa-unlock"></span> <span class="desc">You learned basic lockpicking!</span> <</notify>> <</if>> <</if>><</nobr>> Soon enough, you're smiling over the disassembled lock in your hands. Chase gives you an encouraging pat on the shoulder. "Knew you learned fast," he says with a hint of pride. <<include "chasetalk1">>

He beams. "Thanks, <<c firstname>>," he says with genuine pleasure. "I'll take that as a compliment—especially considering who it's coming from. You realize you're pretty interesting yourself, right? A Mage Shepherd with incredible powers and striking good looks?" He winks at you. "Kind of hard to believe there isn't a catch." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You think abruptly of your home village and deflate. "Maybe there is one."</div>' 'autogenerated_68159'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Well, what about you? Handsome thief-lord... dashing hero of the people... What's your catch?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68160'>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Preen a bit. "That's true. I am very interesting."</div>' 'autogenerated_68161'>><<setchase +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm just an ordinary person."</div>' 'autogenerated_68162'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Chase notices your sudden change in mood and nudges you with his shoulder. "Hey," he says softly. "You don't need to go there. You're great as you are." Then he turns back to the building and loudly changes the subject. "Anyway..." <<include 'chasetalk1'>>

"I am perfect in all ways," Chase answers serenely—but you notice the nervous twitch of his shoulders as he turns away. "Anyway..." <<include 'chasetalk1'>>

Chase laughs. "And humble, to boot," he teases. "The perfect package." <<include 'chasetalk1'>>

Chase snorts. "You can keep telling yourself that," he answers, "but we both know it'd be a lie." <<include 'chasetalk1'>>

"Oh, I like it," Chase says with a smile. "I'm glad we've, ah, partnered up, so to speak. It's always interesting around the compound, and I'm making friends. And..." He pauses. "It feels nice not having to play the leader, for once. I guess I'd sort of missed the old days when all I had to do was follow orders. Takes some of the weight off my shoulders. Though I can't say everyone in the guild is happy about it." He shrugs. "They've got to go along with what I say, though, so there you have it." <<include "chasetalk1">>

<<nobr>><<if ($chaseromanceflag >= 7) and ($attractedto != "women")>> He looks at you before reaching out and lazily tracing your cheek with his fingertips. The way his calloused fingers gently graze your skin makes you break out in goosebumps. "No one," Chase murmurs, his hooded eyes dancing in an amused way, "except you. I'm all yours if you want me, $nickname." <br><br> You swallow hard, but then he pulls his hand away, smirking at you. He knows exactly what he's doing. <<include "chaseflirtyresponse">> <<else>> Chase shakes his head. "Nope. I'm a perennial bachelor, me. A rolling stone, a migratory bird, a lonely soul..." <br><br> You wave him off. "All right, all right, I get it!" <br><br> Chase grins at you. "I'm not one for attachments that way," he informs you. "Too... messy, too limiting. I like to come and go as I please, and relationships of that kind sort of counter that." <<include "chasetalk1">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Two can play at that game. Lean closer to him.</div>' 'autogenerated_68163'>><<setcourage +1>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>><<setchase +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Blush and look away. Is it hot up here, or is it just you?</div>' 'autogenerated_68164'>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>><<setchase +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Scowl at him. What a shameless flirt!</div>' 'autogenerated_68165'>><<setchase +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Chase doesn't seem surprised by your bold move, but his eyes do flicker down to your lips in a distinctly-intrigued way. The air suddenly changes between you; where it was once relaxed and easy-going, it now seems tensed, charged. Electrified. You can feel Chase's warm breath on your lips, smell the dark amber and leather scent of him. He reaches up in a fluid, amused way and slowly lets his index finger trail along the dip of your clavicle. <<include 'chaseconvoend'>>

Chase glances at your expression and smirks even more. <<include 'chaseconvoend'>>

He grins at your expression. "What a cute look," he murmurs teasingly. <<include 'chaseconvoend'>>

You talk for a long while; Chase asks you surprisingly prescient questions about yourself. He steers clear from your past, but seems very interested in your current likes, dislikes, interests, and hobbies. "One thing you should know about me," he says, listening to you attentively, "is that I like giving the people I like gifts. So if you find me crawling through your window at midnight with some haul I think you might like, don't be alarmed. It's just my habit." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"That's sweet."</div>' 'autogenerated_68166'>><<setchase +1>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>><</link>> <<if $attractedto != "women">><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Well, if you crawl in through my window at night, I'll be expecting another kind of 'gift'..."</div>' 'autogenerated_68167'>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'd prefer if you didn't..."</div>' 'autogenerated_68168'>><<setchase -5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"As long as the gift isn't stolen..."</div>' 'autogenerated_68169'>><<setloyal +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Chase beams. "Isn't it? And they say I'm a heartless criminal." <<include 'chaseconvoend'>>

<<nobr>><<if $gender is "female">> <<set $lady to "lady">> <<elseif $gender is "male">> <<set $lady to "lord">> <<else>> <<set $lady to "master">> <</if>><</nobr>> Chase laughs out loud. "Well, if my <<print $lady>> wishes it, I have no choice but to obey," he teases, sweeping a mock bow. <<include 'chaseconvoend'>>

"We'll see," Chase says noncommittally. <<include 'chaseconvoend'>>

Chase chuckles. "It's like you don't even know me." <<include 'chaseconvoend'>>

Then, suddenly, his eyes snap back towards the building you've been staking out. He straightens and says, "Oh. <i>Oh</i>. Would you look at that?" You look. The brown-haired noblewoman is in deep conversation with what looks to be a servant wearing a plain brown dress, whose face you can't see. The noblewoman passes the servant a sheaf of papers, and the servant bows, places them in her holding bag, and then departs from the house, hurrying down the street. "Not a safe," Chase breathes. "Maybe she keeps them in some other office, or a colleague's house—I've got to follow that maid." He stands abruptly, then shoots you a charming smile. "This was fun talking, <<c firstname>>. We'll do it again soon?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Yes, definitely."</div>' 'autogenerated_68170'>><<setchase +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You're really just going to leave me right now?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68171'>><<setchase -5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Maybe."</div>' 'autogenerated_68172'>><<setchase -1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if ($chaseromanceflag >= 7) and ($attractedto != "women")>> "Thanks, $nickname." He blows you a kiss, salutes, and then backflips away. <<else>> He smiles at you, salutes, and then backflips away. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'chaseover'>>

He glances several times at the departing servant, then sighs. "I suppose it would be bad manners," he says heavily. "And I'm anything but ill-mannered." He sighs again and turns away. "Let's go back to the compound." You clamber off of the rooftops together, though Chase's eyes keep darting back towards his target's manor every step of the way. <<include 'chaseover'>>

He gives you a brief smile, salutes, and then backflips away. <<include 'chaseover'>>

<<setchase +5>>Chase smiles lazily when you approach him in the breezy courtyard. "Ah, $nickname," he says, stretching as if he was waiting for you to show up all along. "My favorite person! Walk with me; I was just going to go find a bite." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Stare at him suspiciously. "What, are we going to case the restaurant to rob it in the future?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68173'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Loop your arm around his. "I'd love to."</div>' 'autogenerated_68174'>><<setchase +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Nod. "Sure. I could eat."</div>' 'autogenerated_68175'>><<setchase -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Smirk at him. "If you're looking for a bite, I'm right here." <b>[FLIRT]</b></div>' 'chaseflirtresponse'>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Chase puts a hand to his heart. "Ah, you wound me," he says dramatically. "I do eat, you know. Not every waking thought I have is about stealing." You snort. "Could have fooled me." He winks at you. "All part of the persona, $nickname. Now: shall we go?" <<include 'chaselunch'>>

He grins. "Knew you couldn't resist. Let's go." <<include 'chaselunch'>>

Chase tsks softly. "So serious," he says, gently mocking. "All right, then, let's go find you something to enjoy." <<include 'chaselunch'>>

Chase's eyebrows rise, and he gives you one slow up-and-down look. "Indeed," he says thoughtfully. "So you are." Then he shakes his head. "Regardless, I am ravenous—in many ways, but at the moment primarily for food—and I need my strength if we're going to partake in, ah, other activities." He winks cheekily at you and beckons. "So let's go. You're going to have to wine and dine me if you want any more of this." '<i>This</i>' is accompanied by a cursory up-and-down gesture of his body. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Sigh dramatically. "Oh, fine."</div>' 'autogenerated_68176'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Pout. "You're no fun."</div>' 'autogenerated_68177'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Cross your arms. "No way. You're wining and dining <i>me</i>."</div>' 'autogenerated_68178'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"Excellent," Chase says cheerfully. "Let's go." <<include 'chaselunch'>>

"We'll see," Chase says cheerfully. "Shall we go?" <<include 'chaselunch'>>

<<page_break "Next" "chaserestaurant">>

You wander the streets for a while, chatting idly about a myriad of things and enjoying each other's company. Chase attempts to talk you into visiting a restaurant that he's been to before, nearly an hour's walk away, but the day is cold and chilly, your grumbling stomach is welding itself to your navel, and before you know it, you're walking past the warm threshold of a restaurant that smells of fresh-baked bread, hot soup, and delicious roast meats sizzling with fat. <<nobr>><<if ($part is 4) and ($education is "Circle-trained")>> "I've eaten here before," you say. "It's great. We can stop here for now, and visit your place later today." <<else>> "This place looks good," you say. "If we're both hungry, let's just eat here, and visit your place another time soon." <</if>><</nobr>> You sense just the barest flicker of hesitation before he agrees, though his easy smile never leaves his face. "Lead the way," Chase says, looking amused. <<page_break "Next" "chasemenu">>

You take your seats at the back corner of the restaurant, which seems to lack a name but clearly advertises its specialty in soup: it's a casual, slightly dingy place, the warm wood walls streaked with grease and smoke, the chairs worn and comfortable after years of use. A waiter passes you a pair of wooden tablets that serve as menus: you scan the brief scrawl as he pours you glasses of warm, spiced apple cider and ignores the shouts of the chef from the back of the restaurant. Interestingly, all of the dishes here seem to have their own names and titles. <<nobr>><<if ($part is 4) and ($education is "Circle-trained")>> You don't remember that gimmick from your days eating here as a student, but it has been years: maybe there's been a change of ownership. <</if>><</nobr>> "What'll you have?" the waiter asks you in a brisk tone. You glance at the menu again. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $part is 4>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'll have 'the Capra Special.'" Roast glazed duck with thin, crepe-like pancakes is a hearty staple in Capra.</div>' 'chaseorderready'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'll have 'the Risky Business.'" Buttered sea urchin in a cucumber-cream cheese soup seems... <i>elevated</i> for a restaurant like this, but you like taking risks.</div>' 'chaseorderready'>><<setcourage +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'll have 'the Autumn Surprise.'" Roast eel served in a creamy pumpkin soup with crusty bread sounds warming.</div>' 'chaseorderready'>><<setchase +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'll have 'the Sunrise Soup.'" Melted cheese and potato soup loaded with vegetables sounds delicious, even if it's not exactly healthy.</div>' 'chaseorderready'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'll have 'the Garden of Delights.'" You don't feel like a soup, but a nice green salad heaped with fruit, nuts, and cheese sounds delicious.</div>' 'chaseorderready'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<set $aylatalk to false>>The waiter nods briefly and makes a note. "And you, sir?" he drones. Chase is frowning down at his menu as if it said something that offended him. "Ah—I'll have the same," he says in a distracted manner, handing the waiter his menu. The man nods and whisks himself away. You continue your conversation with Chase, but he seems preoccupied; you tell yourself it's just hunger, and the talk eventually meanders to your past travels: your favorite cities, the foods you've eaten, the strange differences in cultures you've seen. "I've gone up and down the Continent, too," Chase muses. "It might surprise you, but I was something of a drifter in my youth. As a kid, I traveled the three great seas, all over the Banteen coast... and then after, I went from city to city, picking up work where I could, not really knowing where I was going to land. Now I'd like to think I'm more settled in Haven, but..." His mouth quirks slightly. "I'm not sure if that's totally true. I was visiting the other Thieves Guilds a lot, our sister-branches in other cities—less so now, since we hooked up with the Shepherds. But now I'm getting sent out on missions with far-reaching locales, or my other thieves are. A spy network's no good if it's only in one area. And so I find that I'm called away a lot..." He pauses. "Or that I <i>want</i> to go, check in on things. I don't know. I suppose I have the heart of a vagabond." <<include "chasetalkroots">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("chaseroots")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Do you have something against putting down roots?"</div>' 'chaseroots'>><<setchase +1>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("chaseseas")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"What do you mean, you traveled the three seas?"</div>' 'chaseseas'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("chasedrifter")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"How did you become a drifter? What work did you do during that time?"</div>' 'chasedrifter'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("chasehaven")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Why did you pick Haven to settle in?"</div>' 'chasehavenpick'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("chasestayhere")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Why do you stay in Haven now?"</div>' 'chasestayhere'>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($ayla >= 50) and ($aylatalk is false)>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"Ayla's kind of like that, too."</div>' 'chaseayla'>><<set $aylatalk to true>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Your food arrives, cutting off any more conversation.</div>' 'chasefood'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Chase scratches his cheek casually. "Roots are boring," he says airily. "I get bored. I chafe. I want to... meet new people, see new sights. Staying in one place for too long makes me restless. I don't like getting too comfortable. The stray in me talking, I guess." <<nobr>><<if ($charisma >= 30) or ($cunning >= 30)>> He gives you a rather forced smile, and you sense that he's not telling you the full story, or perhaps even outright lying. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "chasetalkroots">>

"Ah, I was a corsair," Chase says contentedly. "The king of pirates, I was. Treasure, plunder, booty, cannon fights at sea, sunken ships, magic vortexes, sea monsters..." He rattles off a few more improbable tall tales in the way he often pretends to be things he couldn't have possibly been, like a traveling clown—"the clown prince of crime"—and a cowboy in the West. You can never really tell fact from fiction, with him. <<include "chasetalkroots">>

Chase's expression doesn't change, but you feel as if a shadow passes over the room, like a cloud skimming overhead. "Odd jobs, here and there," Chase says lightly. "Nothing too interesting." <<include "chasetalkroots">>

For the first time, Chase's humorous, easy expression vanishes. "It's a nice place, Haven," he says, his voice a bit wooden and his expression closed. "That's where all the action is, so I stayed." He says it like it's a prayer, a line he's rehearsed a dozen times. Hmm. Whatever the truth is, you're not going to pry it out of him today. <<include "chasetalkroots">>

"I've got the Thieves Guild, of course," Chase says. "You could technically take them anywhere. They'd follow you." You've heard of other thief-lords doing the same thing, relocating to different cities when the competition gets too hot in one. "That's true, I suppose," Chase muses. Then he grins at you. "Then, I suppose, I stay because of my new friends, the Shepherds. <<nobr>><<if $chaseromanceflag >= 7>> And you." The look he gives you is warm and interested, the affection clear in his gaze. You feel heat buzz in your cheeks, a response to that startling intimacy in his manner. <<elseif $chase >= 60>> "And you, of course." He smiles at you cockily. "I think you'd miss me too much." <<else>> Can't up and leave when we've thrown our lot in with you maniacs." <</if>><</nobr>> He stretches languidly. "And, you know, it's my home... for now. I know it, I like it. That's really all the reason I need to stay, though I can't say I'll feel that way forever." <<include "chasestayresponse">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Well, I hope you stay."</div>' 'autogenerated_68179'>><<setchase +3>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>><<set $chaseharden += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You'd better stay, or else."</div>' 'autogenerated_68180'>><<setchase +1>><<set $chaseharden += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You have to live your life. We'll always be friends regardless of where we are."</div>' 'autogenerated_68181'>><<setchase +3>><<set $chaseharden -= 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I feel the same way. I might leave someday, too. Go where the winds take me."</div>' 'autogenerated_68182'>><<setchase +1>><<set $chaseharden -= 2>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

It feels... vulnerable, saying such a thing to someone who's so aggressively cheerful and nonchalant, but something in the sincerity in your tone makes Chase's careless exterior falter, just for an instant. He looks at you with something like consternation in his eyes. "...Thanks, <<c firstname>>," he says quietly, after a moment. "I... I can't promise anything, but..." He offers you a smile, this one somehow different than the one he so casually tosses at everyone. This one is more... real. Soft. "I'm not going anywhere," he says finally, a concession. "Not anytime soon. You're going to get sick to death of me, but I'll be here for a while. Longer than you'll want me. That's all I can promise." Then he shakes his head with a little laugh, his usual demeanor returning. "And I don't make my promises lightly! Way too much commitment, a promise. Shows how much I like you." <<include 'chasetalkroots'>>

Chase snorts, though he looks vaguely touched—as much as any man who's so aggressively cheerful and nonchalant can, anyway. "Thanks, $nickname. I can't promise anything, but... it's hard to say no to you." He winks at you. <<include 'chasetalkroots'>>

Chase smiles. "Knew you'd understand. You're a Mage after my own heart, you know." <<include 'chasetalkroots'>>

Chase nods. "Two peas in a pod, us." <<include 'chasetalkroots'>>

"I suppose she is," Chase says thoughtfully. "A flighty one, isn't she? But I suppose she travels everywhere because she's... looking for something." You catch his meaning in his pause. "And you? You're not looking for something?" Chase blinks at you, slow and pensive. "No," he says. "More like I'm... avoiding it." Then he grins at you, his usual catlike ease returning abruptly. "Never mind me. Stuff like this is terribly boring." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I don't think it's boring."</div>' 'autogenerated_68183'>><<setchase +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You really hate talking about yourself, don't you?"</div>' 'chaseselftalk'>><<setchase +3>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Wait, what are you avoiding?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68184'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Chase smiles briefly, but he doesn't seem inclined to say much more. "Thanks, $nickname," he says. "But it bores <i>me</i>. I'd much rather hear about you." <<include 'chasetalkroots'>>

"Avoiding?" Chase asks blithely, not batting an eye. "I'm not avoiding anything." He then proceeds to avoid the topic with such deft and skill and bland ignorance that you're not able to get back to the original topic. <<include 'chasetalkroots'>>

Chase's smile flickers for just a moment as he stares at you. A silent beat passes; then he lets out a laugh. "On the contrary," Chase says, "I <i>love</i> talking about myself. Haven't you heard me telling everyone about my heroic exploits, romantic conquests, and et cetera? Tallys has given me the honor of being 'the most insufferable, narcissistic idiot' she has ever met in her long life. And she's two hundred! What a feat! Have I told you about the time I courted a high-born lady who will remain unnamed, and who, without my knowing, was actually married—" "And when her husband found out, he hired a mercenary to duel you for the slight you'd dealt him," you rush on, trying to get back to the point. "Yes, but by the time the devil found me, I'd already found out about madame's married status and left her for a new, ah, suitor, and when she found out about my new swain, she hired the <i>same</i> mercenary to duel <i>him</i> for <i>my</i> hand—" "Yes, I've heard all this before, Chase—" "And then, at the duel, because I was on the outs with the swain at that point, I asked the mercenary if he'd ever dance the howling dervish with me, and he shot at me with his pistol, having become thoroughly sick of my character purely from the secondhand accounts—" The story goes on for some time, until you lose any hope of getting back to the original topic. <<include "chasetalkroots">>

Chase's expression morphs into one of relief as the waiter carries out two identical plates and bowls loaded with soup. "Thank God," he mutters to himself, shaking out his napkin. "I'd wondered if you'd ordered—I don't know, pig brains, or something." "What was that?" "Nothing, never mind. Let's dig in." He sends you a winning smile. You let the cryptic comment slide as you tuck into your meals, but as Chase continues to talk, asking you about your life <<nobr>><<if $education is "Circle-trained">>after you left the Circle,<<elseif $education is "Journeyman">>after your mentor, Belnus, passed away,<<else>>before you took on the job with Prihine,<</if>><</nobr>> you find that you're unable to fully concentrate on the conversation. Something is bothering you—you feel an edge of frustration when you realize that Chase is learning a lot of things about you, but he has given you almost no information about himself, other than exaggerated stories and amusing tales that could easily just be imaginary. Who is he, really? And why is he so damn cryptic when it comes to talking about himself or his past? Chase notices your preoccupation and glances up from his meal. "<<c nickname>>? Something wrong?" He looks at your expression, and then back down at his bowl. "My food's fine, if you want to swap." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Confront him directly. "Trying to get answers out of you is like trying to squeeze blood from a stone. After a while, it gets old."</div>' 'chaseconfession'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Make him feel guilty. "You say we're friends, but friends know things about each other. I don't know a thing about you."</div>' 'chaseconfession'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Become angry. "Why do you keep dodging my questions? Do you not trust me? Is that why you won't tell me anything?"</div>' 'chaseconfession'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Shake your head. "It's nothing. Never mind."</div>' 'autogenerated_68185'>><<setchase -5>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Chase gives you a curious look, as if he doesn't believe you, but he chooses not to press the issue. You continue your meal, but the magic of the moment—whatever it was—is lost, and the outing eventually ends in awkward silence. He gives you a brief, forced smile before parting ways with you. "Thanks for the meal, <<c firstname>>," he says, although he was the one who paid. "It was fun. Let's—do it again, sometime." But he avoids your eye, and slinks away like you'd caught him stealing something of yours and he doesn't want to give it back. <<include 'chaseover'>>

Chase winces, then goes quiet for a moment. The two of you stare at each other across the table while your soup steams to nothing. Finally, he sighs. "You're right," he says finally. "I'm sorry, <<c firstname>>. It's nothing against you—it's just a... bad habit of mine. Stuff in my past, you know how it is. It just makes me less likely to, eh... <i>extend</i> myself to others, at least in an emotional sense." He pauses. "It's... it's easier to keep things light. Fun, you know. Getting into <i>certain things</i> isn't pleasant, so that's why I avoid it. Cover it up with jokes. It's just a reflex—but I'm sorry." You look at him, waiting for him to go on in more specificity, and Chase sighs again. "I'm not... going to get into it today," he says, leaning back in his chair and looking away. Here, like this, his carefully-tousled hair and insouciant slouch seem more... manufactured than before. "But you're right, it's not much of a fair exchange if I don't tell you anything that <i>means</i> something about myself, right? So let me tell you something that no one else knows, except maybe the people who absolutely have to. To make up for it, or to... serve as a proper start, from here on out." He gives you a smile, this one more tentative and somehow more sincere. "Sound square?" You watch him, and he looks like he absolutely means it. It's as he says: a start. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You squint at him. "You're not going to tell me some tall tale again, are you?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68186'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You smile at him, relaxing. "That sounds fair."</div>' 'autogenerated_68187'>><<setchase +1>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You hesitate. "I don't want you to feel like you're <i>forced</i> to tell me something."</div>' 'autogenerated_68188'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You nod. "Thank you. It's a good start."</div>' 'autogenerated_68189'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Chase laughs. "Not this time," he says, making a motion above his heart. "Cross my heart and hope to die. This will be all truth." You nod. "Fine." <<include 'chasesecret'>>

Chase smiles at you. "Good."<<nobr>><<if $chaseromanceflag >= 8>> He hesitates and adds, "I do... want to make you—I mean, I <i>care</i> if you're happy. And if that means knowing more about me, then... yeah, I want to do it. So I'll tell you this." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'chasesecret'>>

"It should be more natural than that," you say. "More of your own volition. I don't want you to do it because you feel like you have to." Chase raises his hands. "No one on God's green earth could force me to do something against my will," the thief says. "It's one of my best and most infuriating qualities. A professional torture-man couldn't get me to shut up, once, under pain of death." He smiles at you. "So no, nothing's forced. I want to tell you, if you'll hear it. And if you forgive me for my idiocy." Against your will, you find yourself smiling. "...Fine." <<include 'chasesecret'>>

He smiles back at you, softer. "Good." <<include 'chasesecret'>>

He clears his throat, then looks around with a dramatic flourish, sweeping the restaurant for any potential eavesdroppers. Then he beckons you close, leans across the table, and says in a theatrical whisper: "Here's something very few people know..." <<page_break "<i>\"I can't read.\"</i>" "chaserevealed">>

Then he sits back, looking very satisfied and kingly. You stay there, leaning forward and staring at him. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"...Are you serious?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68190'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"That's it?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68191'>><<setchase -5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"What?!"</div>' 'autogenerated_68192'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"Dead serious," Chase says, his face the picture of grave sincerity. <<include 'chaseliteracy'>>

Chase looks indignant. "This is a big deal!" he exclaims. "I don't go around telling just anybody this!" <<include 'chaseliteracy'>>

He motions for you to quiet down. "Not so loud," he hisses. "It's not something I really want to advertise!" <<include 'chaseliteracy'>>

You stare at him, a little dumbstruck—but when you really think about it, you suppose it makes sense in the strictest logical vacuum. Literacy hasn't exactly been on the rise up until recently, not with the Autarchy's historical restrictions on education and free-circulating literature; and from what you've pieced together of Chase's life, it doesn't sound like he's been to school. "I was an orphan," he says, following your train of thought. "My mother died during childbirth—I never knew her or who she was. My father came to claim me from a poorhouse orphanage when I was around six or seven, but he never bothered to school me. Pirate, you know how it is. When other kids were learning their letters, I was learning how to tie sailor's knots and tar rope." He shrugs, overly-casual. "And then after that... there was never really the opportunity to learn. No time, no chance. Never really a need for it, either. You don't exactly need to know your letters to do well as a thief. Most pickpockets and fences I know can't read, though they can count coin well enough." <<include "chaseread">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("chasereadwanted")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"You never wanted to learn?"</div>' 'chasereadwanted'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("chasedocuments")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"But how do you know to steal contracts, important documents?"</div>' 'chasedocuments'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("chaseotherknow")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Who else knows about this?"</div>' 'chaseotherknow'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("chasereports")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Wait, how do you submit your mission reports, or write letters to people?"</div>' 'chasereports'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("chasemissions")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"...Are you not reading your mission dossiers, too? How do you know why you're getting sent somewhere?"</div>' 'chasemissions'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">The waiter arrives with the bill before you can say anything more.</div>' 'chasebill'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"I didn't say that," Chase begins in an evasive tone, seeming to end it there—but at your look, he amends: "I mean, sure, I thought once in a while that it would be nice. But I never <i>needed</i> it. I don't have the attention span to read books, anyway. I stay in one place that long, all the pent-up energy in my body explodes, and I spontaneously combust." <<include "chaseread">>

"Mostly guesswork," Chase says. "I get a paper with some names or key words on it beforehand, and if I stare long enough at it, I memorize the shapes of the letters and can find them again in the papers I'm going to steal. But most of the time it's just intuition, gut instinct. Stuff just <i>looks</i> important. Haven't been wrong so far." <<include "chaseread">>

"No one in the Shepherds," Chase says blithely. "Only my two most trusted lieutenants in the Guild—Kato and Ari. They're the ones who do the reading for me, if it comes to it." He grins at you. "And now you." <<include "chaseread">>

"I don't," Chase says with a trouble-making grin. "Or, if I really have to, I make Shery do it while I dictate. She has the impression that I'm just terribly lazy, which is also part of it, if I'm being honest." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You grin. "That's terrible."</div>' 'autogenerated_68193'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You blink. "That... is a great idea."</div>' 'autogenerated_68194'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You smack him. "Shery is not your personal secretary!"</div>' 'autogenerated_68195'>><<setshery +1>><<setloyal +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"Oh, please, she likes it. And I pay her in cookies and tea." <<include 'chaseread'>>

He wags a finger at you. "Hey, I thought of it first. If we all pile in on her, someone's going to find out and the whole ship will go down. Find your own personal secretary." <<include 'chaseread'>>

He blinks. "She isn't <i>now</i>, but I could easily bankroll her in all the tea and cookies she wants." "That's not the point," you say indignantly. "You have to do your reports yourself!" "Well, how am I supposed to do that if I can't read or write?" He shakes his head in a tragic manner. "Blade is such an idiot, hiring any old illiterate bumpkin off the street." Somewhere you imagine Blade twitching suddenly, as if a goose had walked over his grave. <<include 'chaseread'>>

Chase shrugs. "What's to know? Point me at a city, I go and kill the demons there... or whatever. I figure it out." <<nobr>><<if $belief is "one-god">> "Oh, my God." <<elseif $belief is "oldfaith">> "Oh, <i>gods</i>." <<else>> "Gods above." <</if>><</nobr>> "Mm. You know, if God had anything to do with it, Xe'd have made it easier to learn how to read, huh?" <<include "chaseread">>

<<set $chasestatus to "You discovered he can't read. He's beginning to truly open up to you.">>Chase waves you away from the bill and plops down a few gold deucalions, more than enough to pay for both your meals. The waiter whisks it away again, and Chase continues, casual as anything: "It's not like it's some great handicap, or anything. I just thought it'd be interesting for you to know, since it's not something I spread around much. But Thieves Guild has this whole other way of talking to each other; we paint codes and symbols when we want other thieves to know something, but we're not around to say it. That's pretty much like writing and reading, in its own way." <<nobr>><<if $noticegraffiti is true>> <br><br> You remember suddenly seeing such a sigil outside of the Thieves Guild hideout, back when Chase had stolen your medallion. "I've seen those symbols all over. What do they mean?" <br><br> He smiles at you. "I can teach you, sometime. They're my own special pictographs, and all the thieves use them now. And, well, you're one of us, so why not? Might come in handy someday." <</if>><</nobr>> He sits back. "Anyway, that's all I've got for deep, dark secrets today. Pretty good, right?" <<include "chasereactionsecret">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You laugh. "Yeah, that is pretty good."</div>' 'autogenerated_68196'>><<setchase +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You shake your head. "It's not an exchange, Chase. You don't have to give me secrets about yourself that are 'good enough.'"</div>' 'autogenerated_68197'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You watch him for a moment. "You know, <i>I</i> could teach you how to read."</div>' 'chaseteachreading'>><<setchase +3>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>><<set $chaseread to true>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

He grins. "Good. That should tide me over until the next time I'm being insufferable. Then I'll whip out another one, and so on and so forth, and soon I will be an open book to you. A small price to pay for you putting up with me." <<include 'chaseaftersecret'>>

"Why not?" he asks, shrugging. "Secrets are a currency just like any other: valuable, sought-after, traded. We can... make this our own little trade. It's more palatable than the idea of just... <i>opening up</i>." He shudders. "Disgusting." <<include 'chaseaftersecret'>>

He stares at you for a moment, apparently dumbfounded. "You wouldn't," he says after a moment, saying it like you'd just threatened to blow the place up. You stare back at him. "I would... if you wanted to learn." More silence. Chase apparently doesn't know what to make of this act of kindness; he furrows his brow, staring at you as he seems to examine the situation from all angles. It's like he's been handed a diamond, and he's suspicious that it might be a fraud—or a bomb. "You would really do that?" he asks finally. "What are you, a saint? I'm not sure <i>I'd</i> even volunteer such a thing. Certainly no one else ever has." Despite the incredulous tone in which he says it, you think there's something more nervous to the tilt of his mouth, the way his knee shakes with excess energy. Almost like... he's hopeful, but doesn't want to show it. "Why would you want to do that?" Chase asks, still looking half-suspicious. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I want to introduce you to the joys of reading. Literature and fiction unlock worlds you can't even imagine."</div>' 'chaseteachterms'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"We're friends. This is what friends do... they help each other."</div>' 'autogenerated_68198'>><<setchase +3>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I want to get to know you better, get closer to you... This seems like a good way to do it."</div>' 'autogenerated_68199'>><<setchase +1>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 2>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I don't know. I don't have anything better to do."</div>' 'chaseteachterms'>><<setchase -1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Chase looks at you like you're an alien, or some kind of animal that he's never seen before, the expression half-awestruck and disbelieving. <<nobr>><<if $chaseromanceflag >= 7>> Something about it makes your heart flutter. <</if>><</nobr>> "I see," he says quietly. <<include 'chaseteachterms'>>

His mouth quirks slightly as he no doubt picks up on the innuendo of your words, but for once, he fails to say anything about it. <<include 'chaseteachterms'>>

Finally, he shakes his head. "You'd really do that?" he asks, his voice hushed. "You'd—" It looks like he doesn't want to say it. "You'd want to help me learn how to—you know?" You nod, thinking it over. "It wouldn't be exhaustive, but we could start on the nights when we camp on the road, downtime between missions... You're a quick learner, so if you apply yourself, I don't think it would be an arduous experience." "I'd apply myself," Chase says quickly. Then he <i>beams</i> at you, and it's a radiant thing. "Thanks, <<c firstname>>. No one's... I... no one's ever offered." For once he seems at a loss for words. "So thank you. I—can't guarantee that it'll take, because as clever and cunning as I am, <i>book-smarts</i> is not an arena I'm familiar with exercising my talents in..." He trails off, then shakes his head. "I'm talking too much. Anyway: if you really want to do it, I'd... be honored. Thank you." Then he smiles again, taking your hand in his. His grip is slim and calloused and warm. "But I'm not going to let you do it for free. That's not the way of a thief—not <i>my</i> way. It's got to be an exchange, or I'm going to feel all... queasy about it. So what do you want?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I want to know more about you. One reading lesson for one secret!"</div>' 'autogenerated_68200'>><<setchase +1>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Once you learn, you can do <i>my</i> mission reports."</div>' 'autogenerated_68201'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I don't want anything."</div>' 'autogenerated_68202'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Money."</div>' 'autogenerated_68203'>><<set $gold += 50>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

He shakes his head, rueful. "You drive a hard bargain," he says wryly. "But—fine. <i>Quid pro quo</i>, though I can't promise everything I say will be all that interesting." <<include 'chaseaftersecret'>>

His face pales. "You—you're just training me to be your personal slave!" he exclaims, mock-wounded. You wink. "Exactly." He sighs. "You drive a hard bargain, but—fine." Then he grins. "Though I can't promise I won't pass the work off onto Shery then, too." <<include 'chaseaftersecret'>>

He sighs. "So saintly. <i>Fine</i>, if you insist on being incredibly charitable and compassionate, I suppose I have no choice but to allow it." <<include 'chaseaftersecret'>>

Chase snaps his fingers. "Done," he says immediately, although you sense a thread of disappointment in his response, as if your answer secretly let him down. "A bargain and a service. <i>That's</i> more in my wheelhouse." <<include 'chaseaftersecret'>>

<<nobr>><<if ($chaseromanceflag >= 9) and ($attractedto != "women") and ($aroace is false) and ($ace is false)>> <<include "dessert">> <<else>> <<include "itsover">> <</if>><</nobr>>

You talk for a while more, enjoying some dessert, before you walk back out into the chilly streets to head back <<if $part is 4>>to Solhadur.<<else>>to the compound.<</if>> <<nobr>><<if ($chaseromanceflag >= 7) and ($attractedto != "women")>> Chase gives you his jacket to wear, and you walk back home together, feeling significantly closer—and warmed by his new regard. <<else>> Chase gives you a gentler, kinder smile, and you walk back home together, feeling closer and warmed by his regard. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "chaseover">>

The waiter comes back, this time with some kind of dessert borne on a tray: a white, powdery baked treat with a soft caramel center. "A sample of our upcoming winter dessert," the waiter drones, looking perfectly indifferent. "Do come back." Chase gestures to you once he leaves. "You have it," he says. "I'm feeling very gentlemanly and magnanimous tonight." He says this with his usual amused smirk, but it feels like the air has changed slightly between the two of you; you're not sure when it happened, but the atmosphere suddenly feels loaded and electric, like all of Chase's regard is focused more sharply on you. His smirk widens when he sees that you've noticed, but he gestures for you to try the dessert. You oblige and bite into the delicate treat; it has a unique texture, something very soft and pillowy, and the caramel—lightly-salted—explodes like a sunburst inside your mouth. Chase, watching with his chin in hand, seems very interested in watching you eat. He glances once at the treat in your hand, then at your lips. Then he reaches over and brushes a bit of powdered sugar from your bottom lip with his thumb, the touch gentle and feather-light. His gaze has become more intense, heavy-lidded and intrigued. "Can I have a taste?" he asks, his voice dropping into a huskier tone that makes you shiver. He flicks his eyes down to your lips again, looking positively... entranced. And hungry. His meaning is unmistakable, and this subtle tension has been building between you for a while; what are you going to do? <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Nod and let him have a taste.</div>' 'chasetease'>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 5>><<setchase +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You actually don't understand his meaning. "Why don't we just split the dessert?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68204'>><<setintelligence -3>><<setcharisma -2>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Pull away.</div>' 'autogenerated_68205'>><<set $chaseromanceflag to 0>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $chaseromanceflag >= 10>> <<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>> <<else>> <<set $chaseromanceflag -= 1>> <</if>><</nobr>>Chase stares at you for a long moment, and then snorts out a laugh. "...Never mind," he says, sitting back with a wry smile. "Forget I said anything." You shrug and turn back to your dessert, oblivious. "If you say so." <<include 'itsover'>>

Chase blinks, then leans back, an amused smile playing around the corners of his mouth. "Sorry," he says, still at ease. That's all he says, and soon enough, you move past that awkward fumbling with more easy, flowing conversation that Chase helps along by steadfastly not acknowledging what just happened. You finish up your dessert and leave, the chilly wind biting into you and making you feel very off-kilter. <<include 'chaseover'>>

You've developed a sort of unspoken sense of inevitability and understanding between the two of you that feels both infuriating and addictive; this feeling of mutual attraction that implies, <i>It's going to happen at some point; it's just a matter of when.</i> Your heart stutters when you consider that 'some point' is finally 'now,' and a rosy flush of heat blooms through you at the thought. You nod, and Chase finally leans forward, coming closer, and closer, until you can see the spangles of gold in his green eyes... <<page_break "..." "chasefakeout">>

Then he swerves from your face at the last second and leans down to take a bite of the dessert in your hand, cheeky as anything. "Delicious," he says, popping up with an impish grin. "I'd definitely come back and get this." Then he laughs at the expression on your face. "What's wrong?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You bastard."</div>' 'chaseteasereact'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You laugh. "That was a good one."</div>' 'chaseteasegood'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You pretend to sniff haughtily. "If you think that fooled me..."</div>' 'chaseteaseobvious'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You shrug and continue eating. It's his loss!</div>' 'autogenerated_68206'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You cover your face with one hand and blush. How could you have thought...?</div>' 'autogenerated_68207'>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Slap his shoulder lightly. "You're terrible!"</div>' 'chaseteaselaugh'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Punch his shoulder.</div>' 'chaseteaseow'>><<setstrength +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I can't believe you did that!"</div>' 'autogenerated_68208'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'll kill you."</div>' 'autogenerated_68209'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Chase watches you with an amused grin. "Nothing ever shakes you, huh?" he muses. "I'll take that as a challenge." <<include 'itsover'>>

Chase bursts into laughter at your expression. "Don't be shy, $nickname," he teases. "I know you've been dying to kiss me, but I've been waiting for the right moment. I'm a master at that, you know: good timing. Trust me, it'll be worth the wait." He jokes around with you some more until you feel more at ease and less embarrassed. You feel like reaching across the table and throttling him, but you can't fight the smile that stretches across your face at the same time. <<include 'itsover'>>

"Really?" Chase smirks at you. "Of all the things people don't expect me to do, this is one of the likeliest ones. Plus, it's a load of fun. You're very cute, by the way." You feel like reaching across the table and throttling him, but you can't fight the smile that stretches across your face at the same time. <<include 'itsover'>>

"I don't doubt it," Chase says contentedly. "But the danger just makes it all the more fun." <<include 'itsover'>>

He's still grinning. "What?" You glare at him. "You know exactly what!" "I do not." You sputter indignantly for a while until Chase laughs. "You're cute when you're angry," he says fondly. "I suspected it might be so, and now I know." He winks at you. "Don't worry, darling. The right time will come." You feel like reaching across the table and throttling him, but you can't fight the smile that stretches across your face at the same time. <<include "itsover">>

He's still grinning. "I have no idea what you're talking about." "Sure you don't." You feel like reaching across the table and throttling him, but you can't fight the smile that stretches across your face at the same time. <<include "itsover">>

He's still grinning. "What are you talking about?" he asks, all innocence. You scoff and shake your head, and his grin threatens to split his face. "Oh, you thought—oh no, <i>no</i>—" You shake your head. "Nice try. You were so obvious about what you were going to do." "I have no idea what you're talking about, my dear." You feel like reaching across the table and throttling him, but you can't fight the smile that stretches across your face at the same time. <<include "itsover">>

He's grinning like a maniac. "What did I do?" You feel like reaching across the table and throttling him, but you can't fight the smile that stretches across your face at the same time. <<include "itsover">>

Chase tries to adopt a dreamy expression, though he also doesn't hide his wince. "Ow. I'll remember that for next time I try to pull this." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"So you're planning a next time?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68210'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Trust me, there's not going to be a next time!"</div>' 'autogenerated_68211'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'll do worse than that if you ever do this again!"</div>' 'autogenerated_68212'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"You'll see," Chase says, his eyes glinting with mischief. <<include 'itsover'>>

"We'll see," Chase says, his eyes glinting with mischief. <<include 'itsover'>>

"We'll see," Chase says merrily, his eyes glinting with mischief. <<include 'itsover'>>

You go hunting for Chase, but no matter where you look, you can't seem to find the evasive thief anywhere in the compound. "Oh, I think he's at his old base," one of the recruits under his command says plainly when you stop her in the hallway. "It seemed like Thieves Guild stuff—he took Kato and Ari with him." Interesting. What with the healthy influx of Shepherd work nowadays, you know Chase hasn't indulged in much "Thieves Guild stuff" of late, having no real need to—except for the occasional heist to keep his skills spry and to keep the reputation of the guild strong. You wonder what could have been so urgent that it called both him and his two top lieutenants away. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Go looking for him at the Thieves Guild hideout.</div>' 'thievesguildsession'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Leave him to his business and do something else.</div>' 'autogenerated_68213'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

You shake your head and decide to find some other way to spend your time. Whatever he's up to, you doubt Chase is looking for an audience while he does it. <<include 'chaseover'>>

You make your way towards Smoketown, where Chase's "hideout"—now used mainly for storage, since the vast majority of his thieves currently reside in the Shepherds' compound—is squirreled away in the shell of an empty warehouse sitting on the docks. There, you spot one of his usual lookouts, the long and rangy Rafe, leaning against the entrance of the warehouse with his hands stuffed deep in his coat pockets. At your approach, Rafe straightens and touches the brim of his cap in deference; it's not quite a salute, but for a thief, it's a gesture signaling a similar level of respect. "<<c rank>>," he says in a low, well-mannered voice. "You, ah, might want to hold off for now. Boss is busy, and it's... probably not something you want to see." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"He's expecting me."</div>' 'autogenerated_68214'>><<setcunning +1>><<setchase +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"What's going on?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68215'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"He's not in trouble, is he?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68216'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $chaseromanceflag >= 5>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>><</if>> Rafe looks briefly surprised. "Is he? Didn't bother to say anything about it to <i>me</i>." <<if $cunning >= 50 and $chase >= 65>> Then he shrugs and says, "Well, guess he likes you. Go on in. But I'd be quiet, if I were you. They've been working on him awhile; wouldn't want you to say anything that would ruin it." <<else>> Then he does a double-take, watching you shrewdly, before he grunts, unimpressed. "Oh. No, he's not. Sorry, but it takes a better liar than that to fool a thief." Then he shrugs his big shoulders, hunched up against the cold wind blowing from the direction of the docks. "Still, you technically outrank me now, so I don't think it's really my place to stop you if you want to go in." <</if>><</nobr>> He jerks his head, granting you entrance, and you open the heavy warehouse door and pass under the shadow of its entrance, feeling a little as if you're stepping into the belly of some dark beast. <<include 'parmercyinterrogation'>>

Something like unease flickers deep in Rafe's grayish green eyes. "Maybe I shouldn't say," he mutters. "He probably wouldn't want me to tell you." <<include 'whatsgoingonrafe'>>

Rafe smirks slightly. "<i>He's</i> not," he says, hunching his shoulders up against the wind and kicking at a pebble on the ground. "Can't say the same about the other guy..." Then, eyeing you up and down, he shrugs and says, "Well, I guess if you want to go in, it shouldn't be a problem. I'm supposed to keep watch for, you know, threats and intruders and outsiders and all that. You're one of us now, I guess. So you can go on in." He jerks his head, granting you entrance, and you open the heavy warehouse door and pass under the shadow of its entrance, feeling a little as if you're stepping into the belly of some dark beast. <<include 'parmercyinterrogation'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"We're all Shepherds now. No secrets between comrades, right?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68217'>><</link>> <<if $rank is not "Officer">><<link '<div class="choice-item">"You know I technically outrank you now, right?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68218'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $rank is "Officer">><div class="inactive-item">"You know I technically outrank you now, right?"</div><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Brush past him. You have to see this for yourself.</div>' 'autogenerated_68219'>><<setcourage +1>><<setcharisma -1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Rafe smirks slightly. "It'd be nice if that were true, uh?" Then, rather than elaborating on that cryptic response, he shrugs his big shoulders and adds, "Well, I guess you're the boss's problem, if you want to go in. He probably wouldn't expect me to put a big fight just to keep <i>you</i> out." He jerks his head, granting you entrance, and you open the heavy warehouse door and pass under the shadow of its entrance, feeling a little as if you're stepping into the belly of some dark beast. <<include 'parmercyinterrogation'>>

Rafe tsks in annoyance. "Guess so, though don't ask me to explain how any of that works. Well. I guess you're the boss's problem, if you want to go in. He probably wouldn't expect me to put up a big fight just to keep <i>you</i> out." He jerks his head, granting you entrance, and you open the heavy warehouse door and pass under the shadow of its entrance, feeling a little as if you're stepping into the belly of some dark beast. <<include 'parmercyinterrogation'>>

You hear Rafe curse under your breath as you pass him, but he makes no move to stop you, probably figuring that Chase himself will deal with you if he has to. You duck through the heavy warehouse door and pass under the shadow of its entrance, feeling a little as if you're stepping into the belly of some dark beast. <<include 'parmercyinterrogation'>>

<<page_break "Next" "parmercyinterrogation2">>

Immediately, the sounds of muffled screams and whimpers assault your ears, strident from being bounced around as echoes on the warehouse's cavernous walls and niches. Various crates and bundles of loot dangle from the ceiling like hanged lumpen bodies strung up in a gallery, and you have to pause for a moment, letting your eyes adjust to the gloom; the only source of light is the hazy amber sun filtering in through a high, filthy window, so it feels almost as if you've waded into an alien realm of sepia and shadow, full of strange, confounding shapes and tricks of the light. Even when your vision sharpens, it takes a few seconds for your brain to sort out the strange, disjointed scene in front of you, painted by hazy slices of light and shadow. There's a young man tied to a wooden chair, its frame practically in splinters, and even if you knew him there'd be almost no chance of recognizing him now: he's been beaten so fiercely and thoroughly that his entire face is the color of tenderized meat, his left eye almost swollen shut and his chin slick with blood running from his nose, scalp, and $god-knows-where-else. His breathing is ragged and labored; it's clear he's been tortured for hours. In the shadows the room, you see Ari leaning grimly against the wall, her arms crossed as she looks on, her green eyes gleaming like a night-prowling lioness's. Above her, Kato sits on a tall stack of crates almost twelve feet high, his legs dangling and his face utterly mild and unreadable, almost nonchalant. Most disturbing of all, however, is the sight of Chase standing over the beaten man, twirling a deadly-sharp knife idly between his fingers. He, too, almost seems unrecognizable; there's none of that lolling, slinky thief in his posture, which is now ramrod-straight, and the look on his face is similarly foreign to you: it's a cold, half-lidded, almost remote look of blank professionalism mingled with indifference. His pupils are blown out, and his green eyes have lightened almost to hazel, granting them an almost disturbingly intense stare. He gives you a long critical look when he hears your approach, that piercing gaze uncomfortably chill now that it seems to belong to a stranger. Without giving any sign of recognizing you, he merely turns back to his victim and says in a quiet, almost conversational tone: "Now, see here, Parmercy? Looks like someone from the morgue's come to claim you early. I promised them your teeth, maybe some of your inside bits if they're still any good after the bruising you've taken. Plan on fleecing every last bit of coin I can get out of you." The young man snivels something indistinct, his shockingly-blue eyes flying towards you, as if to beseech you for help. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Play along with Chase's lie. "Can we hurry this up? I've got other bodies to pick up by sundown."</div>' 'autogenerated_68220'>><<setchase +5>><<setcompassionate -3>><<setloyal -5>><<setcunning +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Look away.</div>' 'chaseinterrogation'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Demand to know what's going on. This looks <i>extremely</i> illegal.</div>' 'autogenerated_68221'>><<setloyal +10>><<setcompassionate +5>><<setchase -10>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if ($cunning >= 50 or $compassionate <= 45)>> <<setchase +1>> <<if $chaseromanceflag >= 5>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>><</if>> The young man takes one look at your flat, unimpressed stare and lets out a inarticulate wail of despair, knowing that no aid is forthcoming. <<else>> However, something in your tone or body language doesn't seem to quite line up, so you don't come off as convincing as you'd like. Thankfully, the man known as Parmercy doesn't seem to notice. He's too terrified—and he can't seem to see too well out of that eye, anyway. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'chaseinterrogation'>>

<<nobr>><<if $chaseromanceflag >= 3>><<set $chaseromanceflag -= 3>><</if>><</nobr>> Chase gives you a warning, quelling glance, his cold, nearly-yellow gaze almost hawkish in its intensity. Ari shifts in the shadows, as if uneasy, while Kato studies his shoes, seemingly engrossed in whatever he sees on them. Chase tells you coolly, "Thieves Guild business, that's all. If you've got a problem with it, you can wait outside." He runs his the tip of his razor-sharp dagger almost lovingly along Parmercy's cheek. "This won't take much longer." Parmercy squirms, his breath jittering with fear. <<include 'chaseinterrogation'>>

Chase bends down so that he's staring directly into Parmercy's panicked gaze, his own eyes like dead, dark wells. "You know," he continues conversationally, "in the old days, the guild leaders had their own special way of dealing with traitors. <i>Aside</i> from chopping off their fingers and sending them to different loved ones, of course. Always thought that was a bit generous. You think you've got ten people who'd miss you that much, Slone?" Shaking his head when he doesn't receive an answer, he says silkily, "No, what they really <i>liked</i> to do was giving the turncoat a good old Shikoku Theater Mask. You know what that is?" Gently, he grabs the man's bloodied hair and cranks his head back, exposing his bobbing throat and lowering the needle-thin tip of his dagger so that it hovers just over the membrane of Parmercy Slone's staring blue eye. The man goes very, very still; if he even blinks, the knife might cut his eyelid. "First they'd take out the eyes. Gouge them straight out. My old leader did it to someone once while I watched, so I know the trick to it. I asked him after what was done <i>with</i> the eyes, and he just shrugged. It's sort of up to each person. Some would keep them in jars on their desks to intimidate guests. Others fed them to the birds. Me, I always thought I'd let the guy pick. Might as well get a say in where his eyes go." Then the knife moves smoothly down to the corner of Parmercy's mouth, even as the man moans piteously, trying to arch away. "Then they'd stick the knife into the mouth—yep, just like this—and <i>flick</i>!" Although he doesn't do it, you cringe at how easily just a turn of his wrist will tear open Parmercy's cheek. "They'd carve the smile out, both sides. So big you couldn't even stitch them shut. And voila: Shikoku Theater Mask." The small, pleasant smile drops from his face as he begins to apply more pressure, the tip of the knife bulging from the inside of Parmercy's left cheek. The man howls so loudly that your ears ring and your eyes sting, and he begins to struggle against Chase's grip, but it's almost pitiful, like the writhings of a pinned insect. "Now," Chase says softly. "Last chance. You tell me the truth now, or half of your face gets a permanent smile to pretty it up. Who gave you the bright idea to try turning my own thieves against me? And don't insult me by saying it was all you again, Slone, I know you're not that smart. Who really sent you?" Blood begins to well at the corner of Parmercy's mouth as he screams helplessly. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You can't stomach this anymore. "Stop! This isn't like you, Chase!"</div>' 'autogenerated_68222'>><<setchase -10>><<setcompassionate +3>><<setcourage -3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Shut your eyes. You can't watch this.</div>' 'parmercyconfession'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Keep watching.</div>' 'parmercyconfession'>><<setcourage +1>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setreputation +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $chaseromanceflag >= 5>><<set $chaseromanceflag -= 5>><</if>><</nobr>>Chase pauses at the sound of your voice, for just an instant, though his head is bent towards Parmercy in such a way that you can't see his full expression. <i>Flick!</i> Then, just like that, he cuts open the side of Parmercy's mouth, almost as if to prove a point. From Parmercy's blood-curdling screams, it hurts just as bad as it looks. You can't help the shocked, hurt gasp that spills out of you, as if Chase had been the one to take the knife to you. <<include 'parmercyconfession'>>

"<i>No more! No more!</i>" Parmercy screams, garbled by the blade in his mouth, his legs thrashing. "It was Shiv! It was Shiv Madán, <i>she</i> sent me, she wants a foothold in Haven and she said—" Easily, lightly, Chase moves the knife to the other side of his mouth. "You never met Shiv Madán in your life," he says pleasantly. "What's she look like?" "She's short," Parmercy begins, gabbling it in a rush, "she's short and she has a mess of black hair and—" "Uh-huh. She got any tattoos?" "A b-bow, like an archer's bow, on the side of her neck—" "Hmmm." Chase releases him and leans back, wiping the knife on Parmercy's shirt collar before carefully sheathing it. "Well, Slone old boy, you told the truth for once," he says, his tone closer to its normal chipper candor, though his eyes are still half-lidded and lazy as a panther's. "And not a moment too soon, huh? All right, then." He glances at Ari and Kato, a chilly little smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Bag him and pack him off to whatever sorry corner of the Continent we think is worthy of him." Raising his voice to be heard over the sounds of Parmercy's broken, possibly-relieved sobs, he adds, "You ever show your face in Haven or any of the other cities I like to roam around in, I'm going to fuck you up worse the second time, you hear me, Parmercy? I was short on time today, so I held myself back. But next time..." His smile widens. "Next time I'll make sure it's more fun for both of us, okay?" Parmercy doesn't even have the breath to answer him; he can only nod furiously, his eyes and nose streaming with tears and blood. Chase waits until Kato and Ari drag him off to some other room before he stretches his arms languidly over his head, flicks a glance at you, and then tilts his head, indicating that you should join him outside. <<page_break "Next" "chaseoutside">>

"Sorry you had to see that," Chase says, light and easy as anything once you join him in the cool, cleansing air outside, the water from the canals lapping hungrily against the wooden docks. He's wiping his split, bloodied knuckles with a clean damp rag and looks utterly relaxed and at his ease, though you notice he doesn't quite look at you as he turns his attention to tidying up his appearance. "Thief politics, you know. When you've got turncoats and sneaks in your midst, you've got to answer with fire and brimstone, or others are going to get it in their heads that they should have a go at it, too." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"What happened? He tried to betray you?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68223'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"<<c god>>, Chase, that was sickening."</div>' 'autogenerated_68224'>><<setchase -10>><<setcompassionate +3>><<setloyal +3>><<set $chaseromanceflag to 0>><<set $chaseharden -= 5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Honestly, seems like you let him off easy. I've seen worse."</div>' 'autogenerated_68225'>><<setcompassionate -3>><<setloyal -3>><<setchase +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Is your hand okay?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68226'>><<setcompassionate +3>><<setchase +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Remain silent. </div>' 'autogenerated_68227'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Chase is silent for a moment, seemingly lost in his thoughts. <<include 'chaseexplanation'>>

Chase actually smiles, as if he'd been expecting this. "Yeah, well," is all he says simply. "Can't say a lot of what I do is all that wholesome." <<include 'chaseexplanation'>>

Chase smiles a little. "I don't doubt it," he answers easily. "You'd made a fine addition to the guild, you know, if I wasn't so concerned with sullying your reputation. Sometimes I think you're scarier than me." <<include 'chaseexplanation'>>

<<nobr>><<if $chaseromanceflag >= 10>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</nobr>> For the briefest moment, Chase freezes, looking at you sidelong with a look of sheer surprise on his face. Then he forces himself to relax and says, his tone more casual, "You just saw me torturing a guy, and <i>that's</i> what you're concerned about?" <<include 'handconcern'>>

Chase eyes you thoughtfully for a moment, like a hunter wondering if his quarry is getting ready to flee or attack. <<include 'chaseexplanation'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I don't know him. I know you."</div>' 'thatsimple'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm sure you had your reasons."</div>' 'thatsimple'>><</link>> <<if $healthpotionnumber >= 1 and $healthpotion is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I have some healing salve. Let me put it on."</div>' 'healingsalvechase'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $healthpotionnumber < 1 or $healthpotion is false>><div class="inactive-item">"I have some healing salve. Let me put it on."</div><</if>> <<if $specialization is "healer" or ($astral >= 65)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I could heal it."</div>' 'healerforchase'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $specialization is not "healer" and $astral < 65>><div class="inactive-item">"I could heal it."</div><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>> <<if (($chase >= 70 and $chaseread is true) or ($chaseromanceflag >= 20))>> <<set $healthpotionnumber -= 1>> <<if $healthpotionnumber is 0>><<set $healthpotion to false>><</if>> <<setchase +3>> <<if $chaseromanceflag >= 1>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>><</if>> Chase eyes you sidelong for another moment, looking like a wary animal calculating whether its priority should be escape or an enticing meal. Then the side of his mouth twitches up, and he cocks his head in assent, his eyes going half-lidded as he replies, "All right, $nickname. Much obliged." And he holds his hand trustingly out to you. <br><br> You take it; his hand is tanned, slim, warm, and the clever, nimble fingers are skinned all over. For a moment you stand in concentrated silence as you carefully daub cool salve on his hand. <<if $chaseromanceflag >= 20>> <br><br> <<include "healchase">> <<else>> <br><br> <<include "chaseexplanation">> <</if>> <<else>> Chase eyes you sidelong for another moment, looking like a wary animal calculating whether its priority should be escape or an enticing meal. Then the side of his mouth twitches up, and he shakes his head. "That's all right, $nickname," he says softly. "While I appreciate the offer, you don't need to be wasting your meds on someone like me. I'll be fine." <br><br> <<include "chaseexplanation">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if ($chase >= 70 and $chaseread is true) or $chaseromanceflag >= 20>> <<setchase +3>> <<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>> <<setastral +1>> <<setmagic +1>> Chase eyes you sidelong for another moment, looking like a wary animal calculating whether its priority should be escape or an enticing meal. Then the side of his mouth twitches up, and he cocks his head in assent, his eyes going half-lidded as he replies, "All right, $nickname. Much obliged." And he holds his hand trustingly out to you. <br><br> You take it; his hand is tanned, slim, warm, and the clever, nimble fingers are skinned all over. For a moment you stand in concentrated silence as you carefully send a swathe of healing magic all throughout the bones of his hand, healing scrapes and contusions. <br><br> <<if $chaseromanceflag gte 20>> <<include "healchase">> <<else>> <<include "chaseexplanation">><</if>> <<else>> Chase eyes you sidelong for another moment, looking like a wary animal calculating whether its priority should be escape or an enticing meal. Then the side of his mouth twitches up, and he shakes his head. "That's all right, $nickname," he says softly. "While I appreciate the offer, you don't need to be wasting your energy on someone like me. I'll be fine." <br><br> <<include "chaseexplanation">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Chase chuckles softly. "That simple, huh?" He holds out his hand for you to inspect: it's tanned, slim, and the clever, nimble fingers are skinned all over. Still, it's nothing he won't recover from. A week from now, no one will even know anything happened. "I'll be all right," he says, his tone mild. "But I thank you for your concern." <<include "chaseexplanation">>

In fact, you're concentrating so heavily that it takes you a moment to notice that Chase is staring at you intently while you do so; when you glance up, you find his gaze fixed upon your face, his expression still and patient and totally unreadable to you. His eyes have taken on that strange, piercing quality they did in the warehouse, though not in a frightening way, just... completely intense and absorbed, his attention as palpable as a flame. After another moment, his other hand reaches up and grips your chin very gently, tilting your face up for his inspection. You look at him, half-catching your breath in surprise. Chase's fingers are warm on your face, and his eyes are fixed on your lips: you still can't quite interpret his expression. It's a mix of idle curiosity, leisurely and lazy assessment, and hungry, almost possessive intent... His thumb brushes against your bottom lip, almost thoughtfully, and you wonder if he's asking you a silent question or testing your reaction. The air between you is charged with a sudden taut electricity. Then, just as suddenly, his hand drops away as he releases you, and the cool, easy smile reenters his eyes. "Sorry," he says lightly, though his exhale is sharp as he looks away—almost as if the motion isn't as casual as he makes it out to be. "Don't know what came over me. I'm all battered, it wouldn't be polite." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Clear your throat and turn back to your business, pretending as if nothing had happened.</div>' 'autogenerated_68228'>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Stare at him, dumbfounded. You have no idea what just happened.</div>' 'autogenerated_68229'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Make a joke out of it. "Since when have <i>you</i> ever cared about being polite?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68230'>><<setchase +1>><</link>> <<if $courage >= 65>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Arch a brow at him. "You keep teasing me, but not following through. What are you, all bark and no bite?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68231'>><<setcourage +2>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>><</link>><</if>> <<if $courage < 65>><div class="inactive-item">Arch a brow at him. "You keep teasing me, but not following through. What are you, all bark and no bite?"</div><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

The heat on your cheeks and the way your heart beats thinly in your wrists tells a different story, though. Out of the corner of your eye, you think Chase might be smiling at you as he watches you, perhaps even fondly, but you can't make out his full expression without directly looking at him again. <<include 'chaseexplanation'>>

Chase smiles to himself, as if telling himself a private joke, but he says nothing more as you turn back to your task in companionable silence. <<include 'chaseexplanation'>>

Chase laughs easily. "For you, $nickname, I find myself doing all sorts of new things." <<include 'chaseexplanation'>>

Chase smiles at that, his brows raising meaningfully. "You want it that bad, huh, $nickname? I thought you had more patience than that." He winks at you cheekily. "Trust me, I only wait this long when I'm well and truly interested. You should take it as a compliment, honestly. And anyway, you'll just have to wait a little longer." He holds up his bloodied hand and waggles his fingers. "Even with your help, my hand's going to feel like it's half-broken for another day, and I need to be in tip-top condition to keep up with you. I can just tell." You laugh, half-reluctantly, and he grins at you before you turn back to your task in companionable silence. When you glance up at his face, though, you notice that Chase is biting his lip a little, his expression more pensive and serious. He almost looks… conflicted? <<include 'chaseexplanation'>>

Then he sighs and looks away. "There's always someone else looking to take a piece of your pie," he mutters, half to himself. "Rival gangs, young upstarts and new thieves in town, foolhardy mercs rearing to make a name for themselves. And sometimes even other Thieves Guilds, trying to gain a foothold in another city so they can expand their reach and network. To keep them from trying too often, or to keep them from thinking they ought to team up against you, and to keep the law and order around here—yes, like I've said, Thieves Guild keeps the rest of the city's criminals from getting <i>too</i> wild, it's all a delicate balance—you've got to show them that your will is absolute iron. That you've got no weaknesses, and you won't hesitate to burn someone to the ground if they cross you. The second you lose their respect—and their fear—it all devolves into chaos." He jerks his head towards the warehouse. "Young Parmercy in there got the unfortunate idea that he'd make a good replacement for me. There's been an uptick in ideas like that, recently: not a lot of rogues in Haven are quite happy about the fact that my Thieves Guild has been taken up and converted into law-enforcing Shepherds. None of them quite know whether it's actually true or not, but the rumors are enough. You can imagine the outrage and the blowback; this city's criminal underbelly can't abide by such a thing, can they? So people get to thinking that they'd do a much better job in my shoes, and some of them—Parmercy included—start sniffing around, acting like they want to join up as a member, ingratiating themselves with the lower ranks and starting to stir up trouble, planting a little discontent here and there. Then it starts escalating to meeting up in secret, talking all conspiracy-like. Plans to cut my throat in the middle of the night, plant a bullet between my eyes when I'm least expecting it, yada yada. And then killing off the ones who are loyal to me." He clicks his tongue to himself. "All quite simple. Or so they always think." <<include "chaseexplanation2">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("sorryforchase")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"I'm so sorry, Chase. I didn't know."</div>' 'sorryforchase'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("howyoucaughthim")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"So he was a newcomer looking to turn your own thieves against you. How'd you catch him?"</div>' 'howyoucaughthim'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("whynotquit")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"If being a part of the Shepherds is so difficult, why don't you just give up being the Thieves Guild entirely, and let someone else do it?"</div>' 'whynotquit'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("whoisshiv")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Who is Shiv Madán?"</div>' 'whoisshiv'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You can't think of anything else to ask.</div>' 'chasesilence'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

He shrugs carelessly. "Ah, well. Hazards of the job," is all he says, lightly. <<include "chaseexplanation2">>

Chase snorts. "Oh, please. I could tell what he wanted from a mile away, from the second he showed up, hat in hand, begging to be made one of us. But he was so bold and cocksure about it that I figured it was better to keep an eye on him rather than send him away outright, where I couldn't monitor what he was up to. So I let him give me his whole pitch, pretended to take him on and meet with a few people, let him do some dummy jobs to get him comfortable. Had Ari mentor him and act like she wasn't happy with how things were being run. I thought he'd let slip whoever was sponsoring him so I could get to <i>them</i>, but ol' Parmercy was at least cleverer than that. Then he made some allusions about reporting back to his superiors about an idea he had to get to me and force my surrender, and it became time to wrap up his loose end right-quick." "What was his idea?" you ask him. Chase is casually inspecting his fingernails. "Thinks he found my weakness," he answers carelessly. "While it's wrong—I don't <i>have</i> a weakness—it's not a very convenient thing to be spreading around. Can't have it. About broke all his teeth over it, anyhow. He won't be repeating it to anyone. There are some people you beat who just hate you more for it, and bide their time afterwards—and some people who you break, who'd do anything to avoid it happening again. Parmercy, fortunately for him, is one of the latter. Otherwise he wouldn't have left that warehouse alive." "What did he think your weakness was?" you ask again, noticing he evaded your question the first time. Chase glances at you, his eyes dark and shuttered. <<nobr>><<if ($chase >= 70 and $highestromance is not "chase" and $chaseromanceflag < 20)>> "Thought if he could get Ari to lead Kato into an ambush and bag him, holding him hostage on threat of death would get me to lay down my mantle and cede control of Thieves Guild to him," he says mildly. "Once I did that, of course, they'd put a bullet in my head, anyway. It's not that bad of an idea, in the grand scheme of things. It wouldn't work, but it's not something I want being spread around." <<elseif ($chase >= 70 and $highestromance is "chase" and $chaseromanceflag >= 20)>> "I'd leave that question alone for another day, $nickname," he says mildly. "It's not that I don't trust you, it's just that I'm still—" He takes a sharp breath, then smiles slightly. It doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Maybe I can tell you some other time, when I'm calmer," he says finally. <<else>> "Doesn't really matter," he says mildly. "The thought seems to have flown clear out of his head." <</if>><</nobr>> <<nobr>><<if $cunning >= 65>> <<setchase +1>> <<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>> <br><br> "Is he really going somewhere 'far, far away?'" you ask suddenly, shrewdly. It doesn't seem like a situation where it'd be prudent to leave such a man alive, and Chase doesn't seem to be in the most gracious of moods right now. "Or are you just saying that to give me plausible deniability in case someone asks?" <br><br> Chase's lips quirk as he looks at you. "You'd have made a fine thief, $nickname," he says admiringly. <<if $chaseromanceflag >= 20>> "I'm almost glad I didn't get to you first. Wouldn't have been able to resist." <</if>> <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "chaseexplanation2">>

Chase gives you a surprised, rather droll look. "Do you think it'd be that simple?" he asks, amused. "Not a lot of people in this city that I'd trust to take over and run things nice and clean. I pick the wrong successor—and of course it'd be someone from outside the guild, because all of my thieves want to stick with <i>me</i>—and now you've got a ganglord or a full-blown criminal syndicate on your hands, and they're <i>not</i> going to play so sweet, not with the Shepherds or with anyone. Prostitution, mugging, racketeering, drugs—those are all in a Thieves Guild's wheelhouse. Trust me, you wouldn't want someone else in charge." Then he shrugs. "There's also the fact that no one just <i>hands</i> over the power of a Thieves Guild to someone and then stays in the same city as a law-enforcement officer. I announce openly that I want to retire, and specifically to join the badges, and it's open season. I'd be a dead man walking. No one wants me hanging around in case I change my mind and decide to take the throne back." <<include "chaseexplanation2">>

Chase smiles, his eyes bright with an emotion that seems suspiciously close to hatred. "Leader of the Thieves Guild in Sion," he says smoothly. "Don't worry a hair over <i>her</i>, though." Ah. You know better than to ask what that means. <<include "chaseexplanation2">>

You both fall silent for the moment, watching the greenish water in the canal ripple with a latticework of light. Finally Chase stirs and says quietly, "Sorry. I know you probably came looking because you wanted to have some fun. Afraid you caught me at a bad time for that." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I don't care if we have fun, I just wanted to spend some time with you."</div>' 'chaselookaway'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I don't mind. It's interesting seeing all sides of you. Even this."</div>' 'chaselookaway'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I was worried about you."</div>' 'chaselookaway'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Yeah, whatever I was expecting, it certainly wasn't this."</div>' 'autogenerated_68232'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Shake your head. "I regret it. I don't think I can ever get that sight out of my head."</div>' 'autogenerated_68233'>><<setchase -5>><<setcourage -3>><<setcompassionate +1>><<set $chasestatus to "You're not sure where you stand with him.">><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Chase laughs at your dry tone. "Life is more fun with surprises, though, wouldn't you say?" <<include 'chaseafterword'>>

Whatever Parmercy Slone did, you're not sure it deserved the utter brutality of the treatment you just witnessed. Chase sighs slightly, but his tone is a bit sarcastic as he replies, "Probably should have listened to Rafe and not gone in, then. Well. Can't put the milk back in the bottle, I suppose." He observes the canal for a moment longer. "Why don't you head back to the compound for today? I've got to help clean up. Maybe we can start over another day, act like this never happened. Feel free to put it out of your thoughts entirely." He gives you a brief, encouraging smile, but it lacks any true warmth. Still, you sense a dismissal when you hear one. You nod curtly and turn on your heel to leave. You're not sure if you should feel guilty at feeling relief flood through you the farther you leave that cavernous warehouse—and all of the horrors within—behind. Chase, at least, doesn't turn to watch you go. <<include 'chaseover'>>

<<nobr>><<setchase +1>> <<set $chaseharden += 1>> <<if $chaseromanceflag >= 20>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>><</if>> To your surprise, Chase looks away, a microexpression flitting across his face as if you'd pricked him with a needle. "Ah, <<c firstname>>," he says ruefully. <<if ($chaseromanceflag >= 20 and $highestromance is "chase")>> "You keep talking like that, and you're going to end up breaking my heart." <<else>> "You keep talking like that, and you'll halfway convince me you've got a soft spot for me." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "chaseafterword">>

He bounces on his heels a little, seeming almost restless, before he adds, almost as if compelled: "I used to be a lot worse than this, you know. If you think <i>this</i> is bad. Before I was a thief, I... I was like Blade. You know. A contract-killer, an assassin, whatever you want to call it. Except instead of for the state, I did it for this ganglord. Or kingpin, crime boss. There's a lot of words for it." He shakes his head. "And this guy had a finger in every pie from Sion to Leore. They called him Notheim, you know, like the famous puppeteer—since he pulled all the strings, ha ha." He shrugs. "Anyway. I killed a lot of people for that guy. It was like my office job, I didn't even blink. And before that, I was a pirate on my father's ship, robbing merchant vessels and blowing up naval rigs before I was even old enough to ride a pony. Considering how bad <i>that</i> tree was, thief-work is pretty light and upstanding for me." He laughs at your expression. "It's a step up, anyway. Thieves Guild gave me a sense of... purpose, responsibility, even family, that I'd never really had before. Before that, I was just... a drifter, floating aimlessly through life, not giving a shit about anyone but myself. And barely even then, if I'm being frank." He shrugs again. "So... yeah. It's not honest work, but I'm going to defend it anyway." <<include "chaseafterword2">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("aboutfather")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"What happened to your father? You never said."</div>' 'aboutfather'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("whystopassassin")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Why'd you stop being an assassin?"</div>' 'whystopassassin'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("howbecameleader")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"How did you end up as leader of Thieves Guild, coming from all of that?"</div>' 'howbecameleader'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm not going to judge you, you know. You don't have to defend yourself to me."</div>' 'autogenerated_68234'>><<set $chaseharden += 1>><<setchase +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"We've all done ugly things in our past, and we're all just trying to do better as we move on."</div>' 'autogenerated_68235'>><<setchase +3>><<set $chaseharden += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Look, a lot of us have had hard lives. But you can always choose to be better. To <i>do</i> better."</div>' 'autogenerated_68236'>><<set $chaseharden -= 1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Sun knows <i>you've</i> done things to survive that you're not very proud of. Chase watches you for a long, pensive moment, absorbing this, before his gaze flickers down to the ground and he says softly, thoughtfully, "Yeah, I suppose that's true. Thanks." <<include 'chasemorning'>>

That gives Chase pause. His eyes drop to the ground, absorbing this, before he says softly, thoughtfully, "You think so? Sometimes I wonder." <<include 'chasemorning'>>

"Mutiny," Chase says blandly. "His crew turned against him and hung him. They didn't want to hold me responsible—I was just a kid—so they cut me loose at the next port. I spent a few years joining other crews, but they all kept failing for some reason or another. Almost like I was bringing a curse on board with me when I joined them. So after that, I stuck to land." <<include "chaseafterword2">>

"Got tired of it," he answers plainly. "And I started to chafe with Notheim's leash around my neck. He owned me; I was his pet assassin that he'd sic on his enemies. Eventually I had enough and just cut and ran. I drifted for a long time after that." <<include "chaseafterword2">>

Chase smiles slightly. "That is a story for another time," he says teasingly. "Can't give up all my secrets in one go; I've got to keep you coming back for more." <<include "chaseafterword2">>

Finally, he cuts a long, cautious glance at you. "I just wanted to say that I'm sorry," he continues carefully. "If what you saw in there... disturbed you. The way I have to act as leader of Thieves Guild... I want you to know... that's all part of the act, too. I <i>have</i> to be that way. To protect myself, the thieves under my command, and ultimately, the Shepherds, too. People start perceiving me as soft, it's not going to be a good time for anybody. It's part of my job and what I have to do to protect others. But I'm sorry if it turns your stomach. It's not the real <i>me</i>, if that helps. It's just another mask I wear." But something in his tone seems off; there's something hesitant, almost restrained, in his expression. Almost as if he doesn't really believe it himself. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">And you don't think you do, either. "Everything you did in there seemed real. And that's okay. I trust you either way."</div>' 'autogenerated_68237'>><<set $chaseharden += 2>><<setchase +5>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 2>><<set $chasestatus to "You're becoming closer than ever, and fostering stronger bonds of trust between the two of you.">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">And you don't think you do, either. "Don't lie to yourself or me, Chase. We both know what you really are."</div>' 'autogenerated_68238'>><<setchase -50>><<set $chaseromanceflag to 0>><<set $chaseharden to 0>><<set $chasestatus to "The burgeoning trust between you seems broken.">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Don't apologize to me. I've seen worse, and you're doing whatever you have to in order to protect your own. You don't have a <i>damn</i> thing to feel sorry for."</div>' 'chaseincrement'>><<setchase +2>><<setcompassionate -5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I <i>know</i> that's not the real you, Chase."</div>' 'chaseincrement'>><<set $chaseharden += 1>><<setchase +3>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Remain silent.</div>' 'chaseawkward'>><<setchase -10>><<set $chaseromanceflag to 0>><<set $chaseharden -= 1>><<set $chasestatus to "You're not sure where you stand with him.">><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Chase shoots you a genuinely startled look, seeming completely incredulous. "You're madder than a moon-hare, then," he says bluntly. "If it were me—" But then he interrupts himself, blinking rapidly at you, before he shakes his head with a laugh. "You're <i>mad</i>," he says again, but now with an affectionate, amused tone. "Ah, <<c firstname>>." Then, apropos of nothing, he suddenly loops a wiry forearm around your neck and <<nobr>><<if $chaseromanceflag >= 20>> presses a brief kiss against your hairline. <<else>> ruffles your hair. <</if>><</nobr>> You stare at each other for a moment, and something wordless seems to pass between you, loaded with meaning. You can't read the look in Chase's eyes: it could be marveling and reverent, bewildered and incredulous, or downright uncertain and conflicted. Or all three. For a moment, the vulnerability you see in his eyes is almost painful. Then Chase shakes his head, rueful, and the moment is broken, a thread so thin it's almost as if it didn't exist in the first place. "Well, then," he says, seemingly relieved now and filled with his usual jaunty cheer, "all right, then. That's settled, and I think I owe you something nice for taking the trouble to come all the way out here and see me." Then he glances back at the warehouse and shakes his head regretfully. "But let's do that next time. Unfortunately for me, duty calls. You want Rafe to take you back to base?" The way he says it almost doesn't sound like a suggestion: his tone is casual, but there's a look in his eyes that tells you he's slightly worried about your safety, which is unusual. <<include 'escortchoice'>>

You've seen beneath the mask, and what you saw wasn't pretty. Trying to feed you a childish lie about it just makes it more insulting. Chase snorts suddenly, the sound half-amused, half-bitter. "Fair enough," he says, and his smirk is sleek and guarded. "But I suppose I had to try." <<include 'chaseawkward'>>

There's nothing much more to say after that. After a few stilted, awkward moments of silence, of regarding each other warily like you're duelists gauging your opponent's next move, you finally decide to turn on your heel and take your leave. Chase lets you go without another word. You don't look behind you, but you feel his gaze resting heavy on your back as you walk away, prickling between your shoulder blades like a knife-point. <<include "chaseover">>

<<set $chasestatus to "You're becoming closer than ever, and fostering stronger bonds of trust between the two of you.">> Chase smiles, first with the empty humorlessness of incredulity, and then with a dawning warmth as he seems to realize that you mean it. Apropos of nothing, he suddenly loops a wiry forearm around your neck and <<nobr>><<if $chaseromanceflag >= 20>> presses a brief kiss against your hairline. <<else>> ruffles your hair. <</if>><</nobr>> "Well, then," he says, with all of his usual languid cheer, "thanks, <<c firstname>>. We'll consider the matter settled, and I think I owe you something nice for taking the trouble to come all the way out here and see me." Then he glances back at the warehouse and shakes his head regretfully. "But let's do that next time. Unfortunately for me, duty calls. You want Rafe to take you back to base?" The way he says it almost doesn't sound like a suggestion: his tone is casual, but there's a look in his eyes that tells you he's slightly worried about your safety, which is unusual. <<include "escortchoice">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You know I'll be fine. I got here by myself, I can get myself home."</div>' 'escortchase2'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Sure, if that would make you feel better."</div>' 'escortchase3'>><<setchase +3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Chase laughs lightly. "I know you can handle yourself," he says. "Better than most. I just…" <<include "chasefarewell">>

Chase smirks. "Just this once," he concedes. "It's not like I don't think you can handle yourself, but…" <<include "chasefarewell">>

He shrugs wordlessly, apparently unable to or uninterested in elaborating. But when you finally part, the smile he gives you is unexpectedly genuine. It's not the teasing grin or provocative smirk you're used to, but something warm and sincere, almost boyish and sweet in its sudden earnestness. The expression sticks with you as you turn and make your way home past the docks. It's almost enough to forget you ever saw that piercing darkness in Chase's eyes at all. <<include "chaseover">>

<<setchase +5>>After some searching, you catch Chase in one of the residential hallways, dressed in a sleek, resplendent suit of dubious origin—commissioned from a tailor or stolen from a nobleman? It's impossible to tell with him—as he stands back and regards himself critically in the reflection of a window. His look brightens when he notices your approach. "Ah, $nickname. Give it to me honestly: how do I look?" You pause and take in his outfit. He's dressed in a trim black suit with a waistcoat covered in subtle, shimmering designs, a fashionable cravat tied in a knot at his throat. It's a far cry from his usual, slinklingly-casual look, with his battered leather jacket and trousers fit for climbing rooftops in. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You look very handsome."</div>' 'autogenerated_68239'>><<setchase +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You look very rich."</div>' 'autogenerated_68240'>><<setchase +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You look sleek and sophisticated."</div>' 'autogenerated_68241'>><<setchase +1>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You don't look like yourself. This is so stuffy and formal compared to what you usually wear."</div>' 'autogenerated_68242'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Meh."</div>' 'autogenerated_68243'>><<setchase -3>><<setcharisma -5>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $chaseromanceflag >= 10>> <<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> He blows you a kiss. "You always know exactly what to say to me, darling," he says with mock-tenderness. <<include 'chase_what_occasion'>>

He winks at you. "And that is exactly what I was aiming for," he says triumphantly. "And I look <i>old-money</i> rich, don't I, not like some new merchant dandy trying to rub elbows with his betters?" Your lips quirk. "I suppose so." He doesn't quite have that landed polish that <<nobr>><<if $lavinetjoin is true>>Lavinet has,<<else>>true blue-blooded nobles have,<</if>><</nobr>> but it is a convincing display of wealth and confidence, nevertheless. You don't think anyone will particularly think he looks out of place. <<include 'chase_what_occasion'>>

"That's exactly how I want to look," he says triumphantly, a somewhat manic glint in his eye. "I've got to fit in, where I'm going." <<include 'chase_what_occasion'>>

"Ah, but that's exactly how I want to look," he says triumphantly, with a somewhat manic glint in his eye. "I've got to fit in, where I'm going." <<include 'chase_what_occasion'>>

<<nobr>><<if $chaseromanceflag >= 5>> <<set $chaseromanceflag -= 5>> <</if>><</nobr>> Chase snorts and turns away from you, fussing with his cravat. "Well, it's the best I can do," he says, his face pulling into a comical moue. "I've got to fit in, where I'm going." <<include 'chase_what_occasion'>>

"What's the occasion?" you ask him curiously. He looks at you slyly from the corners of his eyes. "Well," he drawls, "perhaps you will recall accompanying me on a rooftop stakeout not too long ago, canvassing that noble house to determine where they keep their important documents?" He preens a little, fussing with his hair in the window's reflection, as he continues, "I've finally figured out where they keep their papers—in the house of a solicitor-cousin—and that in itself is extremely interesting. Why go through all the trouble? What's in those documents that they won't even risk keeping them in their own estate?" He gives you a sharp-toothed grin. "So my curiosity is even more piqued. The problem is, the solicitor's a recluse: he doesn't take on any clients that he doesn't already know personally—he inherited some relative's estate a few years back, so he doesn't need to work anymore—and he's not part of any organizations that are easy for me to access. <i>Except</i>..." He lifts a single finger. "He <i>is</i> a gambler. Loves to hit the casinos and gambling houses near the Golden Way. So I figure if I can spend some time there and observe him, or maybe even ingratiate myself with him and convince him I'm some hotshot young moneybags, I can make some important progress towards gaining a foothold in his house. Should be a fun time." <<nobr>><<if ($chasestatus is "You're not sure where you stand with him.") or ($chasestatus is "The burgeoning trust between you seems broken.")>> And with that, he gives you a tight, brief smile and finishes brightly, "And with that, I should be off. Sorry if you were hoping to spend some time together, but my sources tell me the lawyer's going to be there <i>tonight</i>, and time waits for no man. You know how it is." <br><br> He tips you a jaunty salute and disappears down the hall before you're able to get a word in edgewise. You watch him go with narrowed eyes. His demeanor was perfectly pleasant and as breezy as usual, but why do you get the feeling that you just got neatly deflected...? <br><br> Or perhaps you're just imagining things. The thief-lord of Haven is hard to nail down, after all. <br><br> <<include "chaseover">> <<else>> Abruptly, he turns to you with an excited gleam in his eyes. "Say, you wouldn't want to come with me, would you? It's a low-stakes thing, no danger involved or anything, and we could turn it into an evening on the town! Playing games of chance in ritzy casinos, pretending to be other people... Could be fun." He waggles his eyebrows meaningfully at you. "And you <i>have</i> been in on this heist from the beginning. It seems only fitting that you'd accompany me through the next stage of it." <br><br> Then he pauses, giving you a smile that's a little more uncertain than what you're used to from him. "That is, if you <i>want</i> to, of course." <<include "chase_invitation">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'd love to!"</div>' 'idlovetochase'>><<setchase +5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Sure, that sounds like a fun time."</div>' 'chasebeamsexcellent'>><<setchase +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Why not?"</div>' 'chasebeamsexcellent'>><<setchase +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm not sure... I don't think a Shepherd officer should be participating in something like this..."</div>' 'autogenerated_68244'>><<setchase -5>><<setloyal +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Absolutely not."</div>' 'autogenerated_68245'>><<setchase -10>><<setloyal -5>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setcharisma -5>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $chaseromanceflag >= 3>> <<set $chaseromanceflag -= 3>> <</if>><</nobr>> Chase gives you an understanding but somewhat pitying smile, like an older sibling regarding a naive and sheltered $sibling yet to understand the true ways of the world. "Of course," he says patiently. "I get it, $nickname—it's probably better for both of us if I don't corrupt you with my ways, anyway." He pats you on the shoulder. "Well, then, I've got to be off—time waits for no man, eh? Sorry we can't spend time together this time, but I promise we'll catch up next time." With that, he tips you a jaunty salute and strolls off down the corridor, vanishing into the glassy afternoon sunlight. <<include 'chaseover'>>

<<nobr>><<if $chaseromanceflag >= 5>> <<set $chaseromanceflag -= 5>> <</if>><</nobr>> Chase laughs, a little ruefully. "Fair enough," he says equably. "Well, then, I've got to be off—time waits for no man, eh? But we can catch up next time." He tips you a jaunty salute and strolls off down the corridor, vanishing into the glassy afternoon sunlight. <<include 'chaseover'>>

Chase beams. "Excellent," he says, sounding genuinely pleased. <<include "chase_decide_disguises">>

<<nobr>><<if $chaseromanceflag >= 15>> <<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> Chase beams. "Excellent," he says, sounding genuinely pleased. <<nobr>><<if $chaseromanceflag >= 20>> Though is it just you, or is that a glint of a darker mischief dancing in his green eyes, as well? <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "chase_decide_disguises">>

"Now, then, we've got to dress the part if we want to avoid standing out..." <<page_break "..." "chase_dressed_up">>

Some time later, you and Chase set off towards the Golden Way, dressed in luxurious and glittering clothes that Chase produced from his massive stash and styled to look much more high-born than you actually are. <<nobr>><<if $chaseromanceflag >= 20>> He gives you a long and admiring look as you walk, his eyes seeming to drink the sight of you in as he murmurs with approval, "Now, I may have made a mistake in inviting you along, as you are far too eye-catching to avoid notice, but I can't bring myself to say I regret it..." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Blush beneath his scrutiny. The look in his eyes should be downright illegal!</div>' 'autogenerated_68246'>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Flirt back. "Careful, Chase, or I'm going to start thinking you're actually serious..."</div>' 'autogenerated_68247'>><<setchase +1>><<setcharisma +1>><<setcourage +1>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Deflect. "I don't think I'm going to convince anyone that I belong there..."</div>' 'autogenerated_68248'>><<setcourage -1>><<setcharisma -1>><<set $chaseromanceflag -= 8>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <<else>> He gives you an approving look as you walk, his eyes dancing and his mouth quirked in amusement. "You're taking to this like a duck to water," he says approvingly. "If I'm not careful, you'll oust me from my position and take my job as spymaster, or maybe even as leader of Thieves Guild..." <br><br> <<include "chase_discuss_aliases">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Chase gives you a fond, amused look and offers you his arm in a very gentlemanly way, seemingly deciding to leave off with the outrageous flirtation for now. <<include 'chase_discuss_aliases'>>

Chase's eyes light up with amused delight, and he presses your knuckles to his lips in a brief kiss. "Darling, have I given you any reason to believe I'm not serious?" "It's been a lot of barking without any bite," you answer jokingly, equally amused. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you enjoy flirting without actually acting on what your words—and looks—promise." Chase is looking at you more thoughtfully now, though the same lazy smile still plays around his mouth as he murmurs, "Or perhaps drawing things out will make the release all the sweeter. You are worth a lengthy courtship, $nickname." <<nobr>><<if ($chaseharden >= 2) and ($chaseromanceflag >= 20)>> Then his eyes glance away from you. "And believe it or not, I've actually tried to be careful—you roll your eyes, but I <i>have</i>—because I didn't want to ruin a good thing by acting too quickly. If I... didn't care about you, as a friend, I would have made my advances back in the fall. I've been <i>trying</i> to be careful." <br><br> You glance at him, surprised by the sincerity in his voice and the blunt honesty of his speech. It's not often that a man outright tells you that he's attracted to you, that he actually wants you, that none of this has just been playful, meaningless banter. "But I've meant every word I've said," Chase continues, with uncharacteristic seriousness. "I wouldn't insult you with empty flattery. I've actually been much more serious than you might think." <br><br> Then his expression lightens, and he smiles at you again. "But your point, <<if $gender is "male">>my lord,<<elseif $gender is "female">>my lady,<<else>>sirrah,<</if>> is taken." <<else>> Then he winks at you. "But point taken." <</if>><</nobr>> He offers you his arm in a very gentlemanly way, and for a while the two of you stroll together with companionable intimacy, your hand tucked comfortably in the crook of his elbow and bicep. <<include 'chase_discuss_aliases'>>

"Nonsense," Chase tells you gently. "You're the picture of perfection." <<include 'chase_discuss_aliases'>>

As you draw closer to the gambling house, which Chase tells you is called simply <i>The Siren</i>, he adds, "We should agree on a story about who we are and what we're doing there, in case anyone asks. We'll just watch the solicitor for a while, but it may come to pass that we'll strike up a conversation with him if the circumstances seem favorable. So who should we be for the night?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Let's pretend to be a married couple."</div>' 'autogenerated_68249'>><<setchase +3>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 5>><<set $chasealias to "married">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Let's pretend to be siblings."</div>' 'autogenerated_68250'>><<setchase +1>><<set $chaseromanceflag -= 10>><<set $chasealias to "siblings">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Let's pretend to be business associates."</div>' 'autogenerated_68251'>><<setchase -3>><<set $chaseromanceflag to 0>><<set $chasealias to "business">><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

The fantasy of it will be fun (and will provide plenty of opportunity for flirting), and the ruse will lend you some credibility besides. Chase laughs and immediately wraps an arm familiarly around your waist, pulling you close with the possessive, unthinking casualness of a real husband. "What fun," he says, his eyes glinting with pleasure. "And what should I call you, <<nobr>><<if $gender is "male">>husband?"<<elseif $gender is "female">>wife?"<<else>>spouse?"<</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'chase_choose_name'>>

It's an innocuous enough guise that no one should give the two of you a second glance. Chase grins at you, impish and mischievous and clearly delighted by the idea of pretending to be related to you. "By all means, $sibling," he says amiably. "And what should I call you?" <<include 'chase_choose_name'>>

"What? Really?" Chase pulls his face into a comical moue of sulky disappointment. "That's not fun in the least. But... if you insist..." He shrugs lightly. "What should I call you?" <<include 'chase_choose_name'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Isn't my real name fine?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68252'>><<setcunning -5>><<setchase -5>><<set $falsename2 to $firstname>><<set $falsesurname2 to $surname>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Let's go with <<c falsename>> <<c falsesurname>>."</div>' 'autogenerated_68253'>><<set $falsename2 to $falsename>><<set $falsesurname2 to $falsesurname>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You have a custom persona already prepared.</div>' 'autogenerated_68254'>><<setchase +1>><<setcunning +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Chase lets out a long sigh. "I suppose," he says in a theatrical, airy way, "though it's not exactly <i>creative</i>. Very well, then. You'll remain <<c firstname>>, and I'll be... Dagryn Zaereus. Dag for short. I import black powder from the Sesz Isles, and I'm working my way up to developing weapons contracts with the Army of the Sun. I'm looking for a good lawyer I can trust to take a look at the paperwork. I'm a bit of an airhead, so I need a numbers man." <<include 'chase_enter_siren'>>

"The old standby," Chase says wisely. "Very well, you'll be <<c falsename2>>, and I'll be Dagryn <<nobr>><<if $chasealias is "business">>Zaereus.<<else>><<c falsesurname2>>.<</if>><</nobr>> Dag for short. I import black powder from the Sesz Isles, and I'm working my way up to developing weapons contracts with the Army of the Sun. I'm looking for a good lawyer I can trust to take a look at the paperwork. I'm a bit of an airhead, so I need a numbers man." <<include 'chase_enter_siren'>>

"My first name will be <<textbox "$falsename2" "Merithyn">>." <<include 'chase_surname5'>>

<<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "chase_surname">><</link>>

"My firstname will be <<c falsename2>>, and my last name will be <<textbox "$falsesurname2" "Sainclare">>." <<page_break "Next" "chase_repeat_name">>

"<<c falsename2>> <<c falsesurname2>>," Chase repeats in pleased tones. "Very good. And I'll be... Dagryn <<nobr>><<if $chasealias is "business">>Zaereus.<<else>><<c falsesurname2>>.<</if>><</nobr>> Dag for short. I import black powder from the Sesz Isles, and I'm working my way up to developing weapons contracts with the Army of the Sun. I'm looking for a good lawyer I can trust to take a look at the paperwork. I'm a bit of an airhead, so I need a numbers man." <<include "chase_enter_siren">>

Once you've concocted a believable story, the two of you weave through the gathering crowds—as twilight falls, more and more well-dressed people begin to fill the avenues around the district's gambling houses and casinos, chattering and laughing eagerly—and duck together into <i>The Siren.</i> <<page_break "Next" "chase_enter_siren2">>

Inside, you're greeted by a dazzling tableau of wealth, decadence, and luxury. <i>The Siren's</i> mascot is, fittingly, a golden statue of the Lady of Fortune herself, an improbably curvaceous, naked woman of surpassing beauty with gemstones for eyes, holding a large wheel in front of her midriff in a way that only barely conceals her modesty. Half of the casino's floor is covered by a mosaic of polished marble in shades of green, gold, and light blue, depicting various mythical scenes and creatures; the other half is blanketed by a red carpet so plush that you can feel your shoes sinking into it with every step. Crystal chandeliers hang from the vaulted ceiling, casting a warm, inviting glow across the room. The air is filled with the lively sounds of a professional band playing brass and the plinith on a back stage, interspersed with the occasional jingle of coins, the rattle of dice, and the exclamations of an excited crowd. Chase watches your face as you look around with interest. Rows of gaming tables stretch out before you, each surrounded by patrons clad in expensive silks and velvets, their faces a mix of hope, determination, and occasionally even haggard despair. Croupiers, dressed in elegant tailored uniforms, handle the games with deft precision. In the back of the casino, a grand staircase leads up to a mezzanine, where curtained private rooms offer more exclusive gambling experiences. The main floor is also dotted with sumptuous lounges where patrons can rest and enjoy fine wines and exclusive cocktails while they watch the games commence. "Have you ever been to a place like this?" Chase asks you in an undertone. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"No, never." You've never had occasion to enter a gambling house, let alone one as decadent as this.</div>' 'chaseasguide'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Once or twice, but they were never places I lingered in for long." You mostly had to enter them for work or for some other incidental reason.</div>' 'chasewantstohear'>><</link>> <<if $gambling is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I go to the Golden Way on occasion, but it's nothing like <i>this</i>."</div>' 'chasegoldenwaytalk'>><<setchase +1>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Many times." Casinos and gambling dens are as familiar and mundane to you as libraries. You've spent a lot of time in them.</div>' 'chasewantstohearaboutit2'>><<setchase +1>><<setcunning +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"I'm honored to serve as your guide, then," Chase murmurs, guiding you smoothly and easily to one of the many bars scattered throughout the main floor. <<include "chase_casino_chat">>

"I want to hear all about it," Chase murmurs, guiding you smoothly and easily to one of the many bars scattered throughout the main floor. <<include "chase_casino_chat">>

Chase laughs. "You do? I didn't know that." He glances around with a mirthful, appraising gaze. "No, it's not much like the Golden Way, with all those card games being dealt out over milk crates, but I like that place just as much as this one." He guides you smoothly and easily to one of the many bars scattered throughout the main floor. <<include "chase_casino_chat">>

"I want to hear all about it," Chase murmurs, guiding you smoothly and easily to one of the many bars scattered throughout the main floor. <<include "chase_casino_chat">>

"It doesn't look like the solicitor is here yet—his name's Joryston, by the way, Sunnar Joryston—so we have time to just blend in and enjoy ourselves before he arrives." So you do exactly that: Chase orders flutes of sparkling, effervescent cider, and the two of you make your rounds, talking quietly with each other as you eye other people's surges of fortune and their subsequent downfalls, making clever and whimsical remarks about the stories you see unfolding all around you. Chase's running commentary never fails to make you laugh, and his eyes on you are at ease and contentedly relaxed as you chat and enjoy each other's company. <<nobr>><<if ($chasealias is "married") and ($chaseromanceflag >= 20) and ($ace is false) and ($aroace is false)>> It's hard to miss, however, how easily his warm, slim hand rests against you, still in that casually possessive way as he asks a waiter for another drink for his <<if $gender is "female">>"wife,"<<elseif $gender is "male">>"husband,"<<else>>"spouse,"<</if>> his fingers toying idly with the hair at the nape of your neck, drifting lightly across your arm or your shoulder, leaving a thoughtful, interested trail of ghostly heat along the ridge of your collarbone. His demeanor is as careless and nonchalant as ever, not acknowledging the intimacy of your proximities at all, but as he brushes his knuckles affectionately against your jaw as he leans in to hear you talk, smiling fondly, you can't help but notice how <i>convincing</i> he is in his current role. It feels a bit too natural to think of him as your doting husband, with the way he's acting right now. Your nerves dance under his careful attentions as you attempt to act as if you touch each other like this all the time. At one point, he places his hand on the small of your back to protect and half-guide you from the crush of the crowd, and even once you step out of the cluster, his touch lingers there at the base of your spine, igniting a heat in your stomach that makes the cavernous room feel close and warm. <br><br> Chase meets your glance with bland innocence, all perfect composure. "Something wrong, my love?" he asks in a low, purring tone. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Fight fire with fire by caressing his thigh. "Nothing at all, <i>darling</i>."</div>' 'autogenerated_68255'>><<setcourage +2>><<setcunning +1>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Trail a finger lightly down his chest. "I think you know <i>exactly</i> what you're doing."</div>' 'autogenerated_68256'>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 5>><<setcunning +1>><<setcourage +1>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Look away with a nervous laugh. "Nothing at all..."</div>' 'autogenerated_68257'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Meet his gaze with a cool smile. If he thinks he can fluster you, he has another think coming. "Carry on, darling. It seems you're feeling amorous tonight."</div>' 'autogenerated_68258'>><<set $chaseromanceflag -= 3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Pull away from him. "Would you stop that?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68259'>><<set $chaseromanceflag to 0>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <<else>> <<include "chase_drinking_talk">> <</if>><</nobr>>

You feel Chase briefly stiffen under your touch, taking in a quick breath before he forces a lazy smile in response to your challenging glance. He leans forward and presses a chaste kiss against your cheek, but when he pulls away, you see that his eyes are dark and half-lidded. "Glad to hear it, sweetheart," he says with a soft laugh. "Couldn't have my beloved <<nobr>><<if $gender is "female">>wife<<elseif $gender is "male">>husband<<else>>spouse<</if>> <</nobr>> unhappy about anything, could I?" <<include 'chase_drinking_talk'>>

"Mm?" He grins at you, though his eyes have darkened slightly, his eyes going half-lidded. "You can't blame me for enjoying the perks of the role for a bit, can you?" <<include 'chase_drinking_talk'>>

Chase's lips quirk as he looks at you. "If you say so..." <<include 'chase_drinking_talk'>>

Chase's lips quirk at your defiant look and uncracked composure. "I just find you irresistible, darling," he answers with a laugh. His eyes glint merrily at you. "But then, that's no surprise to you, is it? People fall all over themselves to be near you all the time." <<include 'chase_drinking_talk'>>

Instantly, the smile falls from Chase's face, and he steps back to a more respectful distance, his touch dropping away from you like your skin is now emitting a poisonous toxin. "My apologies," he murmurs. "I thought..." He shakes his head. "Doesn't matter. Sorry about that... <<c falsename2>>." After a slightly awkward pause, the two of you move on. <<include 'chase_drinking_talk'>>

You circulate through the room, and eventually—when Chase flags another waiter down for another round of cider—you ask curiously, "Aren't you going to order something stronger to drink? If you're holding back on my account..." But even as you say it, you realize that you've never seen Chase touch a drop of alcohol in your presence. He meets your look with a grin and says lightly, with a slightly mocking tone, "I'm a sober man, $falsesurname2, and I keep to the ways the Church taught me." At your flat look, he laughs and amends, "I never touch drink or drugs. Not for any moral reasons, but for practical ones. When you're a thief, anyone around you is a potential mark, any movement or pratfall an opportunity to seize. I just got into the habit of always keeping my wits sharp and alert. Drink dulls the senses, slows the mind." <<nobr>><<if $chase >= 70>> <br><br> He pauses, then adds dismissively, "Plus, my old man drank like a fish. So did all his crew. And they weren't exactly pleasant when they drank. I suppose it left a bad taste in my mouth, even subconsciously." <</if>><</nobr>> Then he looks around at you curiously. "But how do you feel about it all? I know Mages aren't exactly allowed to drink, but enough people get past that all the time..." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm very liberal with my drinks and other substances. Why not? You only live once!"</div>' 'autogenerated_68260'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'll have a drink or two when the occasion's right, but nothing crazy."</div>' 'autogenerated_68261'>><</link>> <<if $charch is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Charch is my primary vice."</div>' 'autogenerated_68262'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Like you, I don't touch drink or anything else."</div>' 'autogenerated_68263'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I have many vices, but drink isn't one of them."</div>' 'autogenerated_68264'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Chase smiles at you. "Hear, hear. I can't disagree with that." He looks around. "On that note, if you want a drink, by all means! You should enjoy yourself. I'm only ordering the cider because we've got to look like we're drinking <i>something</i>, or else we might stand out..." <<include 'chase_spot_joryston'>>

Chase nods. "I thought I noticed that. Well, if <i>you</i> want a drink, by all means! You should enjoy yourself. I'm only ordering the cider because we've got to look like we're drinking <i>something</i>, or else we might stand out..." <<include 'chase_spot_joryston'>>

Chase laughs at that. "I don't know that I would really consider that a vice," he says teasingly. "It's perfectly innocent, and practically everyone does it. Halek and Trouble smoke like chimneys..." <<include 'chase_spot_joryston'>>

Chase nods. "I thought I noticed that," he says airily, clinking your glasses of cider together. "But I didn't want to assume..." <<include 'chase_spot_joryston'>>

Chase arches his brows at you. "You <i>are</i> a mystery, $nickname," he says thoughtfully. "Just when I think I've got you figured out, you add another layer to the puzzle..." <<include 'chase_spot_joryston'>>

His green eyes lift to give another sweep of the room, and then, without allowing any change in his idle smile or relaxed body posture, he casually turns to you and says quietly, "There's Joryston, by the way." You glance over to see a small, middle-aged man with a slightly-balding pate and narrow eyes, dressed in a brown suit and watching the proceedings closely, his beady gaze bright with interest. He appears to be alone and seems mainly interested in watching at the moment, circulating through the room and slipping into knots of spectators gathered around the most intense games. As you watch from afar, you observe how he occasionally joins in himself, but consistently loses to the point where he's forced to withdraw and watch more successful gamblers with a hint of nonplussed envy. "Oh, yes," Chase breathes beside <<nobr>><<if ($chaseromanceflag >= 20) and ($chasealias is "married")>>you, his breath warm against your ear.<<else>>you.<</if>><</nobr>> "He'll do very nicely." He glances at you with a roguish, daring smile. "Well, $falsename2? Shall we attract his attentions? I think we can draw him into inquiring after our success if we do well at the games in his field of view. Once we've done that, I can nick something off of him and then have an excuse to contact him about it later. That's how I'll get into his house." <<include "chase_gambling_choice">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $intelligence >= 70>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm game." Use your intelligence to count cards and win handily at Tromph.</div>' 'autogenerated_68265'>><<setintelligence +3>><<setchase +1>><</link>><</if>> <<if $intelligence < 70>><div class="inactive-item">"I'm game." Use your intelligence to count cards and win handily at Tromph.</div><</if>> <<if $cunning >= 70>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm game." Use your cunning to utilize sleight-of-hand and cheat at Whist.</div>' 'autogenerated_68266'>><<setcunning +3>><<setchase +1>><</link>><</if>> <<if $cunning < 70>><div class="inactive-item">"I'm game." Use your cunning to utilize sleight-of-hand and cheat at Whist.</div><</if>> <<if $charisma >= 70>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm game." Use your charisma to read and out-bluff opponents at Intrigue.</div>' 'autogenerated_68267'>><<setcharisma +3>><<setchase +1>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>><</link>><</if>> <<if $charisma < 70>><div class="inactive-item">"I'm game." Use your charisma to read and out-bluff opponents at Intrigue.</div><</if>> <<if $courage >= 75>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm game." Use your nerves to force a victory at Lures.</div>' 'autogenerated_68268'>><<setcourage +3>><<setchase +1>><</link>><</if>> <<if $courage < 75>><div class="inactive-item">"I'm game." Use your nerves to force a victory at Lures.</div><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm game." Observe Chase as he deftly manipulates the games.</div>' 'autogenerated_68269'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $chaseromanceflag >= 15>> <<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> The two of you move discreetly closer to Joryston's orbit, and Chase watches with raised brows and an admiring, approving gaze as you proceed to demolish the croupier at Tromph, subtly employing your skills to count cards and predict a winning hand with near-perfect accuracy. <<include 'chase_crowd_forms'>>

<<nobr>><<if $chaseromanceflag >= 15>> <<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> The two of you move discreetly closer to Joryston's orbit, and Chase watches with raised brows and an admiring, approving gaze as you proceed to demolish the croupier at Whist, subtly employing your skills to track the flurry of cards and pluck the requisite ones out of the stream, hiding them under the table or in your sleeve without anyone else ever being the wiser. <<include 'chase_crowd_forms'>>

The two of you move discreetly closer to Joryston's orbit, and Chase watches with raised brows and an admiring, approving gaze as you proceed to demolish your opponents at Intrigue, flirting, charming, feigning, and bluffing your way to victory by manipulating their sense of confidence. <<include 'chase_crowd_forms'>>

<<nobr>><<if $chaseromanceflag >= 15>> <<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> The two of you move discreetly closer to Joryston's orbit, and Chase watches with raised brows and an admiring, approving gaze as you proceed to boldly roll the dice at Lures. Most people would balk at a game of chance like this, but your sheer unflinching courage leads you to double-down and press forward with determination, and somehow—just as you knew it would—the odds begin to turn in your favor, leading to first one victory, then another. <<include 'chase_crowd_forms'>>

The two of you move discreetly closer to Joryston's orbit, and you watch with amused interest as Chase proceeds to demolish his opponents at several games. He bluffs, cajoles, and charms his way through rounds of Whist; tracks the slight-of-hand involved in hiding a ball under cups at Three Monks with ease; cheats and pilfers and out-strategizes a road to victory during Intrigue. He makes it all look easy, like second nature to him... and you suppose, in a way, it is. It's not long before the crowd begins to notice his successes and gathers to watch... with Sunnar Joryston among them. Beside you, Chase exudes the cool, collected confidence of a man used to winning such paltry parlor games, while you act the fawning ingenue beside him, stirring the crowd with your exclamations of surprise over his many victories. <<include 'chase_meet_joryston'>>

Pretty soon, a crowd begins to notice your success and gathers to watch... with Sunnar Joryston among them. Beside you, Chase acts like an excitable, slightly drunk <<if $chasealias is "married">>husband, exclaiming over your victories to the watching crowd and stirring their interest and concurrent enthusiasm even higher. <<if $chaseromanceflag >= 20>> He beams at you, looking genuinely proud, and squeezes your waist or shoulders fondly with each win, occasionally turning to press a doting, careless kiss against your hair or cheek. <br><br> Although the two of you are fully immersed in your ruse, there's a moment where he draws back from nuzzling your cheek—in a purely congratulatory way, you tell your quick-beating heart—and your eyes catch his. Chase's eyes are sparkling with genuine fun, his grin quick and boyish and sincere—not that lazy, cat-like, cryptic smile he sometimes has—and then his gaze falls to your own lips. The air between you seems to still, Chase's eyes dilating as he tilts his head consideringly, and he takes in a soft, ragged breath. It could almost be a sigh of longing. In that single, clear moment, his eyes broadcast everything in his head to you for once: sheer, naked desire. <i>I want you, I want you, I want you,</i> his gaze seems to say. His careful mask is gone, just for that moment. <br><br> "Another round, <<if $gender is "female">>miss?"<<elseif $gender is "male">>sir?"<<else>>sirrah?"<</if>> the croupier asks. <br><br> Chase huffs ruefully and releases you to return to the game. <br><br> <<page_break "..." "chase_meet_joryston">> <<else>> <br><br> <<include "chase_meet_joryston">> <</if>> <<elseif $chasealias is "siblings">>brother, turning and exclaiming over your victories to the watching crowd and stirring their interest and concurrent enthusiasm even higher. <br><br> <<include "chase_meet_joryston">> <<else>>business partner, turning and exclaiming over your victories to the watching crowd and stirring their interest and concurrent enthusiasm even higher. <br><br> <<include "chase_meet_joryston">> <</if>>

Eventually there comes a necessary break in all the excitement, and as you step back to take a breather, Sunnar Joryston edges into your periphery. "I say," he exclaims over the chatter and rumbling of the crowd, "how on earth did you do all of that? I've never seen anyone win so... so smoothly and easily! Do you have some sort of trick you could share?" And thus commences your encounter with Chase's target. Partaking in amiable, careless conversation about the games and tips on how to win them, the three of you step away from the crush of spectators and drift into one of the lounges, which is still lively but far less jostling and claustrophobic, ideal for holding a longer conversation. Sunnar Joryston listens to you intently, his gaze entirely captivated and unsuspecting—he seems merely grateful that you're taking the time to share your expertise with him. You exchange formal introductions, and once the topic moves on naturally from gambling, Chase lightly and deftly turns the conversation to Joryston's occupation and your own aliases. He tells you that he's a solicitor, that he has a home where he meets his clients on a wealthy street in Whitestone, and Chase exclaims in a friendly way, "I think I've seen that house, and I think we have friends in common! I was walking with my friend, Renst Napier, of the Napier Trading House, and I was telling him I have need for a good solicitor, and he happened to point at your place as we passed. Do you know him...?" "Indeed I do," Sunnar returns, arching his brows with surprise, and after several more minutes of animated discussion, Chase smoothly says, "I'm a bit parched, so I'll get us some more drinks. Joryston? What are you having?" And when he passes behind the lawyer, he meets your gaze from over the top of the man's head and tilts his head in a natural but significant way. You keep your eyes on Joryston, knowing that this is the moment that Chase is going to nick something off of him: you're almost sorry you can't watch closely to see how the master thief does it. Joryston turns to you and asks politely, <<nobr>><<if $chasealias is "married">>"And how long have the two of you been married?" <<include "chase_married_response">> <<elseif $chasealias is "siblings">>"So you are Lord Zaereus's $sibling? Are you the younger or the elder?" <<include "chase_sibling_response">> <<else>>"So you are Lord Zaereus's business associate? What is it exactly that you do?" <br><br> <<include "chase_business_response">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if ($charisma >= 50) and ($cunning >= 50)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Oh, we're newlyweds. I'm sure it's easy to tell."</div>' 'autogenerated_68270'>><<setcharisma +1>><<setcunning +1>><<setchase +1>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($charisma < 50) or ($cunning < 50)>><div class="inactive-item">"Oh, we're newlyweds. I'm sure it's easy to tell."</div><</if>> <<if ($charisma >= 50) and ($cunning >= 50)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"We'll have been married for five years this summer."</div>' 'autogenerated_68271'>><<setcharisma +1>><<setcunning +1>><<setchase +1>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($charisma < 50) or ($cunning < 50)>><div class="inactive-item">"We'll have been married for five years this summer."</div><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Oh, um... er... you know, I can never remember these things."</div>' 'autogenerated_68272'>><<setcunning -1>><<setintelligence -1>><<setcharisma -1>><<setchase -3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Joryston laughs slightly. <<nobr>><<if $chaseromanceflag >= 20>> "Well, it's true, if you don't mind my saying so," he says diffidently. "He seems absolutely taken with you. I remember the days when I was like that with my wife, before she grew silly and tiresome..." <<else>> "I suppose so," he admits. "I remember the days when I was like that with my wife, though that was before she grew silly and tiresome..." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'chase_continue_conversation'>>

Joryston laughs slightly. <<nobr>><<if $chaseromanceflag >= 20>> "Is that so? I would have thought you were newly-weds: he seems so utterly taken with you still! Would that my wife and I could reclaim the same passion... but alas, she seems to have grown silly and tiresome of late..." <<else>> "I see. My wife and I will have been married for eight in a few weeks. If she weren't so silly and tiresome, she could be here tonight..." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'chase_continue_conversation'>>

Joryston frowns at you. "Indeed?" He looks a bit skeptical, but then shakes his head and says, "I suppose not everyone keeps track of such things. I'll have been married to my wife for eight years next week. If she weren't so silly and tiresome, she could be here tonight..." <<include 'chase_continue_conversation'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if ($charisma >= 50) and ($cunning >= 50)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm the older by a year. Don't I seem the more responsible one?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68273'>><<setcunning +1>><<setcharisma +1>><<setchase +1>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($charisma < 50) or ($cunning < 50)>><div class="inactive-item">"I'm the older by a year. Don't I seem the more responsible one?"</div><</if>> <<if ($charisma >= 50) and ($cunning >= 50)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"He's older by a year. Did it seem otherwise?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68274'>><<setcunning +1>><<setcharisma +1>><<setchase +1>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($charisma < 50) or ($cunning < 50)>><div class="inactive-item">"He's older by a year. Did it seem otherwise?"</div><</if>> <<if ($charisma >= 50) and ($cunning >= 50)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"We're fraternal twins, actually."</div>' 'autogenerated_68275'>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($charisma < 50) or ($cunning < 50)>><div class="inactive-item">"We're fraternal twins, actually."</div><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Er... why do you ask?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68276'>><<setcunning -1>><<setcharisma -1>><<setintelligence -1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Joryston laughs slightly. "Well, now that you say it, of course you do. Is it difficult to have such an impetuous brother?" "It's positively chaotic. He's always driving our parents up the wall." <<include 'chase_continue_conversation'>>

Joryston laughs slightly. "I'm not sure if I would say that—he does seem to have the worldliness of an older sibling, but there's a carelessness to his attitude that did make me wonder, if you don't mind my saying." "Oh, no, I agree," you reply seriously. "He's always driving our parents up the wall." <<include 'chase_continue_conversation'>>

<<nobr>><<if ($eyecolor is "bright green") or ($haircolor is "brown") or ($haircolor is "chestnut-colored")>> <<setchase +3>> <<setcharisma +1>> Joryston laughs slightly. "Are you, really? I wouldn't have guessed, but now that you say it, I suppose you do have similar <<if $eyecolor is "bright green">>eyes..."<<else>>hair..."<</if>> <<else>> <<setintelligence -1>> <<setcunning -1>> Joryston raises his brows, clearly surprised by this statement. "<i>Really</i>? But... you don't look anything alike..." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'chase_continue_conversation'>>

Joryston blinks at you, looking awkwardly. "Oh, just making conversation," he hastens to tell you. "I didn't mean to cause any offense..." <<include 'chase_continue_conversation'>>

You don't want to gain <i>too</i> much of Joryston's attention, so you provide an answer that wouldn't be of much interest to a solicitor. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if ($charisma >= 50) and ($cunning >= 50)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I own a fishing fleet and cannery."</div>' 'autogenerated_68277'>><<setcharisma +1>><<setcunning +1>><<setchase +1>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($charisma < 50) or ($cunning < 50)>><div class="inactive-item">"I own a fishing fleet and cannery."</div><</if>> <<if ($charisma >= 50) and ($cunning >= 50)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I import musical instruments."</div>' 'autogenerated_68278'>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($charisma < 50) or ($cunning < 50)>><div class="inactive-item">"I import musical instruments."</div><</if>> <<if ($charisma >= 50) and ($cunning >= 50)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I deal and trade in agriculture."</div>' 'autogenerated_68279'>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($charisma < 50) or ($cunning < 50)>><div class="inactive-item">"I deal and trade in agriculture."</div><</if>> <<if ($charisma >= 50) and ($cunning >= 50)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I export inks and quills and implements of that sort."</div>' 'autogenerated_68280'>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($charisma < 50) or ($cunning < 50)>><div class="inactive-item">"I export inks and quills and implements of that sort."</div><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"That's none of your business, actually."</div>' 'autogenerated_68281'>><<setcunning -1>><<setcharisma -1>><<setintelligence -1>><<setchase -1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"Ah, indeed?" Joryston says with distant politeness. "Imagine! You really meet people of all stripes in places like this." <<include 'chase_continue_conversation'>>

Joryston's face blanks; it's clear he's not used to being rebuffed so bluntly. "Ah... I see. Forgive my impertinence, then." <<include 'chase_continue_conversation'>>

Chase returns then, as brisk and breezy as ever. He passes out your drinks and the three of you continue your light chat, though Joryston is a bit of a dry conversationalist and rapidly runs out of interesting things to say. Still, you wait for him to wander away on his own rather than making your departure too sudden or obvious, so you pretend to be smiling and engaged and enthusiastic throughout the duration of the conversation. <<nobr>><<if ($chaseromanceflag >= 20) and ($chasealias is "married") and ($aroace is false) and ($ace is false)>> Chase's attention, however, clearly begins to wander, because after several moments of standing and talking, he begins to gravitate towards you again. At one point, while you're discussing the latest curfew issued from the Sun Court with Joryston, Chase drags a single finger lightly down the entire line of your spine, ending at the small of your back and tracing a series of very distracting hieroglyphics there in a way that makes your skin burn. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You choke on your drink.</div>' 'autogenerated_68282'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You glare at him.</div>' 'autogenerated_68283'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You lean coyly against him, pressing your side against his.</div>' 'autogenerated_68284'>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You swat his ass casually, but warningly.</div>' 'autogenerated_68285'>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <<else>> <<include "chase_joryston_leaves">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Joryston blinks at you. "<<c falsename2>>? Are you all right?" "Perfectly," you sputter through watering eyes. Chase pats you soothingly on the back, his grin enormously amused but deceptively innocent as you clear your airway. <<include 'chase_joryston_leaves'>>

You're subtle enough about it that Joryston doesn't notice, but Chase certainly does; he meets your glance with a bemused, nonplussed innocence, as if to say, <i>Yes? What is it?</i> <<include 'chase_joryston_leaves'>>

You have to admit, the lean warmth of him is delicious and tempting. Your body seems to have a similar effect on Chase; though he doesn't look directly at you, you know he's acutely aware of your every point of contact. He tenses slightly, shifting from foot to foot with a suddenly restless energy. <<include 'chase_joryston_leaves'>>

You're subtle enough about it that Joryston doesn't notice, but Chase certainly does; he's grinning at you knowingly, almost challengingly. <<include 'chase_joryston_leaves'>>

Finally—after what seems like an eternity—Joryston's eyes drift towards yet another crowd gathered around a roulette, and he bids you a polite goodbye and slips away. You and Chase glance at each other, and immediately the thief leads you to a hidden nook behind the grand staircase, a narrow, partially-curtained passageway seemingly used by waiters and other staff that happens to be deserted for the moment. <<nobr>><<if ($chaseromanceflag >= 20) and ($aroace is false) and ($ace is false) and ($chasealias is "married")>> Still, it's a tight fit; you have to crowd close to each other to remain out of view. Chase's breath against your cheekbones and lips makes them tingle. <</if>><</nobr>> At your expectant glance, Chase smiles and produces a slim pocketbook from the inside of his suit jacket. "It was perfect," he breathes. "You were brilliant, of course. And now I'll have the perfect excuse to drop in on him to pay him a call in a few days' time..." <<nobr>><<if ($chaseromanceflag >= 20) and ($aroace is false) and ($ace is false) and ($chasealias is "married")>> <br><br> You swallow, looking at him. In this moment, you don't think he's ever looked more attractive; his tousled brown hair artfully mussed, his eyes alight with adrenaline and satisfied excitement. His gaze on you is strangely fierce, with appreciation and gratitude and pleasure but also something more... <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Smile at him. "I'm happy to have helped you."</div>' 'autogenerated_68286'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Lick your lips. "So you got what you wanted?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68287'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Oh, to Hael with it. Kiss him.</div>' 'autogenerated_68288'>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 5>><<setchase +3>><<setcourage +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="brokenheart-item">Draw away. This is not where you want to go with him.</div>' 'chase_draw_away'>><<set $chaseromanceflag to 0>><<set $chaseharden -= 5>><<set $chasestatus to "You engaged in heavy flirtation, but chose not to go any further than that.">><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <<else>> <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm happy to have helped."</div>' 'autogenerated_68289'>><<setchase +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You know, I felt a bit sorry for him... He seemed nice enough."</div>' 'autogenerated_68290'>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Well, now it's all up to you. It wouldn't make much sense for me to accompany you there."</div>' 'autogenerated_68291'>><<setcunning +1>><<setloyal -1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <</if>><</nobr>>

Chase smiles fondly at you. "Oh, you helped, all right," he laughs. <<include 'chase_serious_conversation'>>

"Eh," Chase says airily, dismissive. "I suppose so, but those types are always hiding dirty laundry, no matter how nice they seem on the surface. He cheats on his wife, if that makes you feel any better about it. And he helps his cousins accomplish some very illicit deeds, all while covering it up from the Vice Guard. Extortion, kidnapping, that kind of thing... How do you think he 'suddenly' inherited his estate?" <<include 'chase_serious_conversation'>>

Chase nods. "Too right. But even if I take the rest from here, tonight couldn't have gone so seamlessly without you." <<include 'chase_serious_conversation'>>

Chase's smile fades slightly as he considers you more soberly. Then, slowly, deliberately, he reaches up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing delicately across your lower lip, like a reverent student admiring a great work of art. "I couldn't have done it without you, $nickname," Chase says, his voice low and rougher than you've ever heard it. "But, honestly, just spending this time with you has been the real prize, not the pocketbook." He pauses, his eyes steady and direct but his breath just a little too quick to be fully convincing. "I want to kiss you, <<c firstname>>," he whispers. "Is that all right?" <<include 'chase_kiss_choice'>>

Chase's smile fades slightly as he considers you more soberly. Then, slowly, deliberately, he reaches up to cup your cheek. It takes everything not to nuzzle hungrily into his warm touch. His thumb brushes delicately across your lower lip, like a reverent student admiring a great work of art. "What I want," Chase says seriously, his eyes steady and direct but his breath just a little too quick to be fully convincing, "is to kiss you, <<c firstname>>. Is that all right?" <<include 'chase_kiss_choice'>>

You've danced around this long enough. Throwing caution to the wind, you wind your hand around Chase's cravat and tug him closer to capture his lips in a kiss. <<include 'chase_first_kiss'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="flirt-item">Nod. You've been wanting this all night.</div>' 'autogenerated_68292'>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 5>><<setchase +3>><<set $chasestatus to "The two of you have kissed.">><</link>> <<link '<div class="flirt-item">"Yes. <<c god>> yes."</div>' 'autogenerated_68293'>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 5>><<setchase +3>><<set $chasestatus to "The two of you have kissed.">><</link>> <<link '<div class="brokenheart-item">Draw away. This is not where you want to go with him.</div>' 'chase_draw_away'>><<set $chaseromanceflag to 0>><<set $chaseharden -= 5>><<set $chasestatus to "You engaged in heavy flirtation, but chose not to go any further than that.">><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Slowly, luxuriantly, Chase draws you in for a deep, lingering kiss. <<include 'chase_first_kiss'>>

Slowly, luxuriantly, Chase draws you in for deep, hungry kiss. <<include 'chase_first_kiss'>>

Instantly, heat swamps your body, fire blazing along your every nerve as you and Chase lock together in an urgent embrace that reminds you of a burning house finally collapsing together. His kiss is silk and velvet, melting and teasing and tasting in all the best ways. His hands seem to be everywhere as he half-groans, half-sighs into your mouth, his teeth nipping and nibbling playfully at your lips—then your ear, then your throat—as you explore the slim, muscular planes of his body in turn. Your hands reach up to wind through his soft, half-wavy locks, gripping him as you twine together even closer. Pretty soon he has you hitched up against the wall, your breaths mingling and ragged as your hips roll unconsciously together. Eventually, Chase drags himself up for air, his hair wild and his eyes even wilder as he gazes at you with blown-out, lust-hazed eyes. He says, his voice husky, "There are private bedrooms on the top floor. I can rent one for the night." It's simple, but his meaning is clear. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="flirt-item">Sleep with Chase.</div>' 'autogenerated_68294'>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 5>><<set $numberofromances += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"No need for the room." You want to keep this to just kissing, and just for tonight.</div>' 'autogenerated_68295'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="brokenheart-item">Draw away. This is not where you want to go with him.</div>' 'chase_draw_away'>><<set $chaseromanceflag to 0>><<set $chaseharden -= 5>><<set $chasestatus to "You engaged in heavy flirtation, but chose not to go any further than that.">><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Chase grins at you, the look sharp and fierce and shattering, before he takes your hand and draws you backwards through the curtain. <<include 'chase_bedroom_scene5'>>

It's a passing, momentary fancy, a chance to act on physical impulse; you wish for nothing more than this moment right now. Chase's lips quirk in a smile, and he leans forward to oblige you once more. <<include 'chase_kissing_only5'>>

<<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "chase_bedroom_scene">><</link>>

<<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "chase_kissing_only">><</link>>

Your room secured, the two of you stumble up to the darkened top floor of <i>The Siren</i>, where all the noise from the floors below fades into velour-muffled silence. Chase kicks open the door to your suite as you kiss each other like drowners desperate for air, then kicks the door shut behind you once you both stagger inside, tugging desperately at each other's clothes. There's no time to look around and take in the expensive surroundings; you fall together on top of the softest sheets you've ever encountered, and in amidst the rasp and slip of silk, Chase raises his head slightly and pants, "Last chance, $nickname. I want—to give you pleasure—more than anything. I want to know—taste—" He dips his head and kisses you greedily before continuing, "—everything about you. But I've got to know we'll be friends afterwards." His eyes are dark and intense and unflinching as he stares at you, but you feel how his hands shake slightly with want. "You understand? I can't... give you anything like a true husband would. It's not in me. We'd be friends and bedmates—lovers without commitment—but nothing more. Are you all right with that?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="flirt-item">"Yes. That's exactly what I want." No-strings-attached sex was exactly what you were looking for.</div>' 'chase_intimate_scene'>><<setchase +3>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>><<set $chasesex to true>><</link>> <<link '<div class="flirt-item">In your heart, you know it's not exactly what you want. You want something more. But for now, you're willing to put that aside to pursue a sexual relationship with him. "Yes, I can do that."</div>' 'autogenerated_68296'>><<setchase +1>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>><<set $chasesex to true>><</link>> <<link '<div class="brokenheart-item">Stiffen. Chase has always been very upfront about his noncommittal nature, but now that you're here, you don't think you can proceed with this.</div>' 'autogenerated_68297'>><<set $chaseromanceflag to 0>><<set $chaseharden -= 3>><<set $chasestatus to "You've kissed him, but chose not to go any further than that.">><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

It may lead to disaster and catastrophe and heartbreak, but at the moment, you're too dizzy and alight with pleasure to worry about it any longer. You just want him. For now, it's enough. <<include 'chase_intimate_scene'>>

<<include 'chase_reject_intimacy'>>

Chase blows out a grateful breath before bending to kiss you with searing heat again. The taste and sensation of him is almost blindingly good, amber and the sweetness of cider and something that's just unmistakably Chase. He proceeds to begin to peel off your clothes, one layer at a time, his delicate, teasing touch making you arch and squirm and throb for more. When you reach for him, the thief leans slightly back and cautions in a whisper, "Not just yet, love. If you're not careful, you'll set me off like a fireworks display." You fall back against the sheets and pillows with a breathless laugh. "And here you always talked as if you were a great master at this..." "Well, we'll see, won't we?" Chase teases, a slow, confident smirk curling across his mouth. "But you have been driving me half-mad, darling, and now that I have you, I'm damn well going to take my time..." His hands finally meet your bare, sensitive flesh, and the two of you hiss at the blessed contact, at the pleasure of his skin sliding against yours. Chase proceeds to knead and caress, to taste and nip, to trace an artful path down your body until he goes exactly where you want and makes you cry out and shake with need, his hands confident and possessive and his mouth ravishing and ruinous. Pleasure begins to overwhelm you in a tight, feverish spiral, and before the end of the night—when he's grinding his hardness and heat against you; while you're caressing his face and he's staring at you like a starving man being visited by something divine; <<nobr>><<if $gender is "female">>when he's making you bite your pillow as he bites your shoulder in an attempt to master himself with a muffled curse and a sharp thrust—the<<else>>while he bites your shoulder in an attempt to master himself with a muffled curse and rolling white thunder breaks loose in your body and mind—the<</if>><</nobr>> two of you find release with each other... again. And again. And again. <<page_break "..." "chase_afterglow">>

Some time later—a very long time later—the two of you lay curled together in the darkness, your bodies cooling against the tangled satin sheets. You're drowsy and half-blind with pleasure, and it seems Chase feels the same way; his hand traces a light pattern against your back, his other hand carding through your hair, but the movement is boneless and dazed, like the motions of someone drunk. After considerable silence, the tingling of the afterglow fades slightly, at least enough for Chase to say with a laugh, "<i>Well</i>, then." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Snuggle closer to him. "That was amazing."</div>' 'autogenerated_68298'>><<setchase +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Grin at him, smug. He wasn't the only conductor of your two-person orchestra: you had some tricks of your own to show him. "Good?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68299'>><<setchase +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Blow out a long sigh of relief. "That was a while in coming, wasn't it?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68300'>><<setchase +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Stretch. "Ready for round two?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68301'>><<setchase +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

It comes out half-slurred, but you don't care. If Chase wants to strut after this, let him strut. He's earned it. "It was," Chase agrees with feeling. His body is relaxed and content, but he stares hazily up at the ceiling like he's dizzy and trying to get his vision straight. "You really are something else, $nickname. I mean that in more ways than one." <<include 'chase_leave_together'>>

"Unspeakably so," Chase says, with feeling. "That thing you did when you were on top of me..." "I thought you'd like that." "You have made me a convert, $nickname, heart, mind, body, and soul. I am humbled, and I bow to your expertise." He stares blindly up at the ceiling like he's dizzy and trying to get his vision straight. <<include 'chase_leave_together'>>

"It was," Chase agrees, a bit slyly. "I knew I wanted you from the moment I first saw you, $nickname. I just didn't think I'd ever get the chance to act on it." You laugh and kiss him. <<include 'chase_confession_response'>>

Chase laughs and tickles your side lightly. "More like round eight?" he teases. "Unless your rounds are unfairly long. In which case, I think my heart will give out trying to keep up with you…" <<include 'chase_leave_together'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I felt that way, too."</div>' 'autogenerated_68302'>><<setchase +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"What, didn't you have confidence in your famous skills at seduction?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68303'>><<setchase +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"To be honest, neither did I. But somehow you've won me over."</div>' 'autogenerated_68304'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"What?" He looks at you with mock-seriousness. "How many nights have we wasted, then?" You arch your brows at him. "What about all that tripe about building things up and teasing out the chase?" "That was before I knew what <i>this</i> felt like. What a damn shame." <<include 'chase_leave_together'>>

"At first I was," Chase answers with mock-seriousness. "And then I started realizing who you actually <i>were</i>. Not just an incredibly attractive Shepherd officer, but—well—you." He grins at you. "And by that point, I thought it important to take my time. For... various reasons." <<include 'chase_leave_together'>>

Chase grins. "I don't blame you," he teases. "No one ever thinks much of a man who's just stolen something from them. But if you let me stick around long enough, I can find ways to charm you. As you can now personally attest to." <<include 'chase_leave_together'>>

<<set $chasestatus to "You've become lovers as well as friends, with no strings attached.">>He kisses you one last time, the gesture unexpectedly fond and sweet, before he whispers against your tender lips, "It'll be dawn soon. I hate to interrupt this bliss, but maybe we should head back. My team has a dawn patrol." You nod hazily. Sleeping together is one thing, but falling asleep in each other's arms is another, at least within this tacit arrangement. The two of you help clean each other up, lazy and languid, before you don your rumpled clothes once more, your movements now personal and affectionate in a way that they weren't before. Before Chase pulls the hotel door open, he glances back at you and smiles wordlessly. You smile back. You won't be able to tell anyone about this—Shepherd officers aren't allowed to fraternize with each other, after all—but in that smile is an acknowledgment that he's keen to keep doing this with you, regardless. That he wants more. That this will happen again, as many times as you want it. You carry that promise with you as you slip away from <i>The Siren</i> and back into the velvet dark of the night. <<include "chaseover">>

Chase freezes for a moment when you tell him so, but to his credit, he seems to completely understand your refusal. "Ah," he says softly. Then he sighs and draws back from you, leaving your skin chilled and prickling. When he looks at you again, there's something like a sad agreement in his eyes, almost a rueful capitulation, as if to say, <i>You're probably right. About it all.</i> "You're right, <<c firstname>>," he says simply, quietly. "I'm glad you said it before it went any further." He shook his head, taking a steadying breath, and then another. "It might have all ended disastrously, anyway. This is probably for the better. No hurt feelings, no complications, no... any of it. Just us being pals, like we always have. Nice and easy." He clears his throat for a moment, busying himself with straightening his clothes as you do the same, before your eyes meet again and Chase's lips quirk encouragingly, trying to do away with all the awkwardness. "Friends?" he says. You nod. "Friends." You know him: he's always been adamant about not tying himself to any one person. It wouldn't be fair to ask him to change his mind on that, and you're not interested in forcing anyone into anything, anyway. But at least you can remain friends, and forget all of this, and move on as if nothing had happened, knowing you narrowly averted a disaster that could have destroyed your relationship. There's a kind of relief in that, at least. You pulled yourselves back from the brink before it was too late. Chase smiles at you again, and the two of you silently gather your things and take your leave of <i>The Siren</i>. You try to ignore how cold you feel for the rest of the night. <<include "chaseover">>

Sometime later—finally interrupted by a waiter's indignant squawk—you and Chase emerge from the hidden passageway, hand-in-hand and giggling like a pair of teenagers. Chase glances over at you as you rejoin the crowds, his eyes dancing and his smile amused and warm, and a kind of invisible meaning passes between the two of you then. When he releases your hand, you understand him instantly. You are friends, first and foremost; the kissing was incidental to that. Maybe it will happen again in the future, maybe it won't: this was simply a way to resolve the tension and curiosity between you. But you're not sure Chase will pursue it more than this. And you don't think you'd want him to. Cradled in that companionable, heady understanding, the two of you proceed to cavort and gamble and careen laughingly through <i>The Siren</i> for the rest of the night. <<include "chaseover">>

The surprise and disappointment on Chase's face is clear, but he instantly eases back from you, his hands dropping back to his sides. "Right," he says, taking a steadying breath, and then another. He clears his throat, avoiding your gaze for a moment, but then when he looks back, there's something like sad understanding in his eyes. Almost a rueful capitulation, as if to say, <i>You're probably right. About it all.</i> "Sorry, <<c firstname>>," he says simply, quietly. "I... this was my mistake. It won't happen again, I promise." His lips quirk at you, encouragingly, trying to do away with all the awkwardness. "Still friends?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Smile at him. "Of course. Always."</div>' 'chase_still_friends'>><<setchaseharden +1>><<setchase +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Look away. "I'm not sure. I need some time."</div>' 'chase_needs_time'>><<setchase -10>><<set $chaseharden -= 1>><<set $chasestatus to "You're not sure where you stand with him.">><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Chase smiles at you, tentative and uncertain. "Great," he says, but his voice is a bit stilted as he says it. Then he seems to shake it off and says, breezy and stalwart again, "Well, now that we've got all of <i>that</i> out of the way"—as if this were simply a natural step to friendship that you needed to surmount—"shall we get back to it?" The two of you slip back to the casino, though the games feel more distant to you now, filled with meaningless jangling and the glinting of indifferent coins. You try to enjoy the rest of your time together before deciding to head back home. At your door, Chase smiles at you again, tightly, and something in the look that passes between you signals that you won't talk about this painful, awkward end to the night again. Everything will proceed just as it did before, without acknowledgment: that seems to be Chase's way. Everything easy and simple and untroubling, as only he can make it. Or maybe not. His hand moves, as if to pat you on the shoulder, before he seems to think twice of it and draws away, one hand shoved deep in his pocket and the other lifted in a casual farewell. You bid each other good night, you step in to your room, and then you close the door behind you, leaning against it and blowing out a heavy sigh. You feel strangely cold for the rest of the night. <<include "chaseover">>

The light in Chase's eyes seems to recede; his expression shifts into something so neutral and remote that he almost looks like a different person. "Of course," he says, but his voice is distant and polite, as if with a stranger. He draws away from you even further, and it's not long after that that you decide to head home. He drops you off at your door and removes himself from the situation as formally and briskly as if he were leaving a package with a stranger, his hands shoved deep in his pockets and his expression closed-off and preoccupied. You step into your room and close the door behind you, leaning against it and blowing out a heavy sigh. You feel strangely cold for the rest of the night. <<include "chaseover">>

Then, at his own words, he abruptly sobers, drawing back and blinking at you as if he's suddenly broken out of a reverie. "Maybe I shouldn't have done this," Chase says, his voice suddenly uncertain. "Had you come along. I never plan or think too far ahead, that's the problem; everyone's always complaining about how I act on impulse. But now that it's done, I..." He shakes his head. "It's not like I didn't have any amazing time with you tonight. I did. I just... worry sometimes." "About what?" you ask, your brow furrowing. "That I'm corrupting you," he says bluntly. "That I'm dragging you down with me, that I'm putting some sort of stain on you. You're <i>good</i>, <<c firstname>>. <<nobr>><<if $chaseread is true>><i>You're teaching me to read</i>, for heaven's sake, and you slay Faceless Lords and you help people and lift them up and inspire them and solve their problems, and I'm a criminal thief-lord who drags you into gambling dens and cons and heists when you let me pick what we're going to do. Hael, you walked in on me torturing a man not too long ago. Sometimes it's enough to make me wonder if I'm not worthy of your company."<<else>>You slay Faceless Lords and you help people and lift them up and inspire them and solve their problems, and I'm a criminal thief-lord who drags you into gambling dens and cons and heists when you let me pick what we're going to do. Hael, you walked in on me torturing a man not too long ago. Sometimes it's enough to make me wonder if I'm not worthy of your company."<</if>><</nobr>> He says it quite easily, but there's a strange concern, almost a vulnerability, lurking in those green eyes of his, in the rare taut furrow of his brow. For once, you sense, Chase is being perfectly sincere with you. <<include "chase_respond_to_chase">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Of course you're worthy, Chase. You should value yourself more highly. When I see you, I see a wonderful person with so much to give."</div>' 'chase_accept_compliment'>><<setcompassionate +3>><<setcharisma +1>><<setchase +10>><<set $chaseharden += 3>><<set $chasestatus to "You're beginning to know his true self.">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Don't put me on a pedestal, Chase. I'm not a saint, and I'm an adult, besides. I choose who I spend my time with, and it's not up to you to protect me from yourself."</div>' 'chase_dont_protect_me'>><<set $chaseharden += 1>><<setchase +3>><<setloyal -1>><<setcourage +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"That's an old, deep wound, isn't it? Why do you think that being around you is going to ruin my life?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68305'>><<setintelligence +1>><<setcharisma +1>><<setchase +5>><<set $chaseharden += 1>><</link>> <<if $shepherdsknow is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"If you think all that, you don't actually know me. Just an idea of me. I'm the one who ruins people's lives."</div>' 'chase_comfort_scene'>><<set $traumatized += 1>><<setchase -5>><<set $chaseharden -= 1>><<setloyal -10>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Maybe you're right, but I like spending time with you, anyway."</div>' 'ilikespendingtimewithyouanyway'>><<set $chaseharden -= 3>><<setcompassionate -3>><<setcharisma -1>><<setchase -5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Remain silent. You're not sure what to say.</div>' 'chase_remain_silent'>><<set $chaseharden -= 5>><<setchase -15>><<set $chaseromanceflag to 0>><<setcharisma -5>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setloyal -5>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Chase doesn't look at you. "Because it always does," he mumbles, gazing at some point over your right shoulder. He looks smaller, somehow, the look in his eyes distant and remote. You wonder what he's seeing in his mind's eye right now. <<nobr>> <<if ($chase >= 75)>> "My father's crew mutinied against him after I joined his ship. So did two others I joined afterwards. I killed Notheim. And…" He shakes his head slowly, taking an unsteady breath. "Well. Sometimes I can get to thinking I carry around some sort of curse, or something." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'compassion_towards_chase'>>

<<nobr>><<if $chaseromanceflag >= 1>> <<set $chaseromanceflag to 0>> <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "chase_spending_time">>

To your surprise, Chase actually flinches, his shoulders hunching as he lowers his head as if you'd struck him a physical blow. He rocks back on his heels, and he places his hands in his pockets, scuffing the ground with one well-made shoe. "Ah... thanks, <<c firstname>>," he mutters without meeting your gaze. "I'll..." He takes a deep breath. "I'll try to believe that." He smiles at your concerned frown. "Really. Thank you. I just don't want... it doesn't feel like the Thief-Lord of Haven should be consorting with the Hero of Haven, sometimes. Or any of the Shepherds. But I'll... try to be worthy of the honor. Or something like that." <<include "chase_embarrassed_change">>

Then, suddenly, as if he's embarrassed, he abruptly changes tact and gifts you with a breezy smile. "Well, then," he says lightly. "Enough of that. Shall we get back to it?" You nod, and he leads you out of the shadowy passageway. The night whirls by in a reel of lights and colors, scents and laughter, the merry jingling of coins and the sounds of wild, unrestrained music and fun. The two of you proceed to cavort and gamble and careen laughingly through <i>The Siren</i> for the rest of the night. <<include "chaseover">>

You're not some pure-hearted virgin who must be corrupted from the stain of corruption, and it's almost infantilizing for Chase to think so. You're a flawed person just like anybody, after all, and you don't want him to think otherwise... to separate himself from you just because he isn't perfect. Chase winces, looking properly chastised when you tell him this. "I can see how it comes off that way," he mutters. "Sorry, $nickname, that's not how I intended it. But you're right. You're only human, too. It wouldn't do for me to forget that." He smiles at you, cheeky. "Well, I'm glad we cleared that up: I can dispense with any formal sense of guilt, then. Shall we get back to it?" <<include "friendcasinochase">>

You nod, and he leads you out of the shadowy passageway. The night whirls by in a reel of lights and colors, scents and laughter, the merry jingling of coins and the sounds of wild, unrestrained music and fun. The two of you proceed to cavort and gamble and careen laughingly through <i>The Siren</i> for the rest of the night. <<include "chaseover">>

Being a thief doesn't even come close to obliterating your hometown at thirteen, after all. Chase studies you, and whatever he sees in your face makes him blow out a long breath. "Oh, $nickname," he says quietly. "You don't really think that, do you? It's not..." But he trails off, perhaps sensing his own hypocrisy, and after a long, meaningful pause, he wordlessly draws you into a hug. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Accept his embrace.</div>' 'autogenerated_68306'>><<setloyal +1>><<setchase +2>><<set $chasestatus to "You understand each other.">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Pull away.</div>' 'autogenerated_68307'>><<setchase -10>><<set $chaseromanceflag to 0>><<setloyal -5>><<setcompassionate -5>><<settraumatized +1>><<set $chaseharden -= 5>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"I'm sorry for the hurts you carry," the thief murmurs as he pulls back to look into your face. "I wish I could do something about them. I can only say that... it's not your fault... but something about that always rings hollow for people like us, huh?" The smile he gives you is tinged with sad understanding. "The best I can do is to not burden you with my own guilt. You have enough of your own, I think." Then, suddenly, as if he's embarrassed, he abruptly changes tact and gifts you with a breezy smile. "Well, then," he says lightly. "Enough of that. Shall we get back to it?" You nod, and he leads you out of the shadowy passageway. The night whirls by in a reel of lights and colors, scents and laughter, the merry jingling of coins and the sounds of wild, unrestrained music and fun. The two of you proceed to cavort and gamble and careen laughingly through <i>The Siren</i> for the rest of the night. <<include 'chaseover'>>

Chase releases you with an expression of regret, as if he's aware he's misstepped, and for a moment the both of simply stand in painful, awkward silence. Finally, Chase forces a tight smile. "Well, then," he says, striving for lightness, "we can try to have some fun, at least. That's what we're here for, isn't it? We can get back to it." But the rest of the night is stilted and contrived, and it's not long after that that you decide to head home, and for the safety and solitude of your own rooms. <<include 'chaseover'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Touch his shoulder compassionately. "Hey. That's not true. Whatever happened in the past wasn't your fault."</div>' 'autogenerated_68308'>><<setloyal +1>><<setcompassionate +2>><<setcharisma +1>><<setchase +3>><<set $chaseharden += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Be firm with him. "Well, that's not the case with me or the Shepherds. We're doing better than ever, and that's thanks in part to you." </div>' 'autogenerated_68309'>><<setloyal +1>><<setcompassionate +2>><<setcharisma +1>><<setchase +3>><<set $chaseharden += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Remain silent. </div>' 'autogenerated_68310'>><<setcharisma -5>><<setchase -5>><<set $chaseharden -= 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Well... have you ever thought about... just being better?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68311'>><<setchase -10>><<set $chaseharden -= 1>><<setcharisma -5>><<setcompassionate -1>><<setintelligence -1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Chase glances at you inquisitively, almost as if he doesn't quite believe you and is checking to see if you're sincere… but whatever he sees in your face seems to reassure him. He blows out a rueful kind of laugh. "Thanks, $nickname," he says, patting your shoulder. "That… that means a lot. I'll try to live up to your faith in me." <<include 'chase_embarrassed_change'>>

Chase looks away then, his smile self-derogatory and rueful. <<include 'chase_embarrassed_change'>>

Chase laughs abruptly at that. "Oh, all the time," he says in a soft, self-mocking tone. "You can be sure of that." <<include 'chase_embarrassed_change'>>

Chase glances away, grimacing as if you've pricked him in a tender spot. "Well," he says lightly, though his voice is a bit subdued. "That's good to hear, I suppose." Then, abruptly, as if he's embarrassed, he gives you a forced, tight smile. "Enough of that," he mutters. "You're here to have fun, not listen to me quibble and knock my knees together. Shall we get back to it?" You nod, and he leads you out of the shadowy passageway. The night whirls by in a reel of lights and colors, scents and laughter, the merry jingling of coins and the sounds of wild, unrestrained music and fun. The two of you proceed to cavort and gamble and careen laughingly through <i>The Siren</i> for the rest of the night. <<include "chaseover">>

Chase glances away, grimacing as if you've pricked him in a tender spot, and for a long moment, awkward silence reigns. Then, abruptly, as if he's embarrassed, he gives you a forced, tight smile. "Enough of that," he mutters. "You're here to have fun, not listen to me quibble and knock my knees together. Shall we get back to it?" You nod, and he leads you out of the shadowy passageway. The night whirls by in a reel of lights and colors, scents and laughter, the merry jingling of coins and the sounds of wild, unrestrained music and fun. The two of you proceed to cavort and gamble and careen laughingly through <i>The Siren</i> for the rest of the night. <<include "chaseover">>

You go looking for Chase, but you run into his lieutenant, Kato, sooner than you can track down the wily thief himself. Kato blinks at you from where he's busy taking inventory from a storeroom set specifically aside for Chase's thieves: here, the shelves are lined with tools that exceed the skill level of the average Shepherd recruit, featuring a range of lockpicks, safe-cracking tools, spy gear, and even explosives locked tightly away in a warded chest. When you ask after his leader's whereabouts, Kato—a slim young man with romantic black curls and bright blue eyes—gives you a polite smile and tells you amiably that Chase is pursuing a heist involving a solicitor's address in Whitestone. "But he should be done by now, if all went well," he adds, checking his timepiece. "I think it was just reconnaissance today. I'm sure you could meet him coming down the street if you were willing to make the hike up there." Then he cocks an eye at you and adds, "Chase mentioned that you're familiar with the case." "Oh, I am," you return dryly. "One could say that I've been involved in it since the beginning." Kato's lips quirk. "That's a high compliment to you, then. Chase doesn't usually like to let anyone know what he's really doing, let alone get them actively involved in his work." There's a significant pause as you both eye each other, seemingly waiting for the other one to say something more. Although your relationship to Chase's lieutenants, Kato and Ari, is perfectly cordial, you've never spent much time with them outside of the orbit of Chase's company: they tend to be busy running the Thieves Guild side of things as well as staying on top of their work for the Order. Finally Kato takes a breath and adds, "I… am sorry about what you witnessed, that other time. In the warehouse." The image of Chase's captive Parmercy being casually tortured flashes into your mind like a stark white lightning strike. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"No need to be sorry. It wasn't your fault."</div>' 'kato_response1'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"No need to be sorry. It didn't bother me a wit. I've seen worse."</div>' 'kato_response2'>><<setcompassionate -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I knew what I was signing up for, with him."</div>' 'kato_response3'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Yes, that was... rough."</div>' 'kato_response4'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Kato grimaces. "Still. Sometimes people are taken in by Chase's demeanor and think it's all fun and games—until it's not. There's a lot of darkness we contend with in our line of work. Sometimes that realization can be jarring for some." <<include "kato_pause">>

Kato blinks. "Truly? That's a... unique way of looking at it, but I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. Being who you are, and all." <<include "kato_pause">>

Kato smiles slightly. "Truly? That's a... unique way of looking at it, but I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. No wonder Chase and you get along so well." <<include "kato_pause">>

Kato grimaces. "I know. It's unfortunate, but sometimes it's a necessary part of our world. I suppose if being on the other side of the law didn't have some violence to it, more people would try and be a part of it. It's certainly not for the faint of heart." <<include "kato_pause">>

He pauses again, looking torn, as if he'd like to say more but is calculating the worth of saying it. Then his mouth closes, as if he's reconsidered. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Well... goodbye, then."</div>' 'autogenerated_68312'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Prompt him. "Yes? Was there something else?"</div>' 'kato_continues'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Wait to see what he'll say.</div>' 'kato_continues'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Tap your foot impatiently. "Spit it out, man."</div>' 'kato_continues'>><<setcharisma -1>><<setcompassionate -1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Kato gives you a slightly relieved wave. "Goodbye, <<c rank>>." <<include 'lookingforchaseinwhitestone'>>

Kato's mouth quirks ruefully.<<nobr>><<if ($chasesex is true and $chase >= 75)>> "I… just wanted to thank you," he begins, thoughtful and still clearly hesitant. "For always being there for Chase. He doesn't have many people he truly counts on, and… not many truly see who he really is. So… even though he may not say it himself, I just wanted to thank you for him." <<include "katochoices">> <<elseif ($chaseread is true and $chase >= 75)>> "I… just wanted to thank you," he begins, thoughtful and still clearly hesitant. "For always being there for Chase. He doesn't have many friends he truly counts on, and I know you've done more for him than most. So… even though he may not say it himself, I just wanted to thank you for him." <<include "katochoices">> <<else>> "Never mind," he says with a shake of his head. "See you later, <<c rank>>." <br><br> <<include "lookingforchaseinwhitestone">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"There's no need to thank me. I haven't done much."</div>' 'autogenerated_68313'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"It's tough work, but someone's got to do it."</div>' 'autogenerated_68314'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> <<if $compassionate >= 75>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I know you're one of those people, too, Kato. You're one of his oldest friends. He treasures you."</div>' 'autogenerated_68315'>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>><</if>> <<if $compassionate < 75>><div class="inactive-item">"I know you're one of those people, too, Kato. You're one of his oldest friends. He treasures you."</div><</if>> <<if $chasesex is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Oh, don't worry, he 'thanks' me all the time." <b>[INNUENDO]</b></div>' 'autogenerated_68316'>><<setcharisma -1>><</link>><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

Kato gives you a wry look. <<nobr>><<if $chaseread is true>> "I'd say 'teaching him to read' is doing a lot. At the very least, accept my thanks because you've made <i>my</i> life a lot easier as a result. Before you came along, he used to make <i>me</i> read and write everything that came across his desk." <<else>> "It may not seem like much to you, but trust me, it is. At the very least, piquing his interest enough to make him join the Shepherds has improved life for us all, so there is that." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'katocontinues2'>>

Kato is surprised into a laugh. "Well, we're all lucky that you've decided to take up the task." <<include 'katocontinues2'>>

Kato's eyes quirk, wry, though he also looks pleased. "I think 'friends' may be overstating it," he states lightly. "I'm his right-hand, but I think he'll always think of me as a little brother, or his protégé. He trained me, you know, when I first joined the guild some ten years back. He always calls me 'his young ward' and his 'little apprentice.' Even though I'm not half a decade younger than him…" <<include 'katocontinues2'>>

A look of mortification crosses Kato's face as he takes in your meaning. "…Right," he manages faintly. "Well. Regardless of that. It occurred to me that I should say something to you myself, since we happened to meet like this." <<include 'katocontinues2'>>

He pauses, then adds <<nobr>><<if ($chasesex is true and $chaseromanceflag >= 25)>> meaningfully, if hesitantly, "He <i>likes</i> you, you know. He may have an odd way of showing it, but… he acts differently around you than he ever has before." Different from his past paramours, you infer. "With them, he always made an effort to keep a cool, measured distance between him and them, a balance between the romance of the moment and… everything outside of that. Sort of like a cat, wending its way out of your grip if you try to chase it. He did that so complications wouldn't arise after things inevitably… ended. But with you, it's the opposite. It's like he can't get <i>enough</i>." He stops again, then adds in an uneasy tone, "And lately, he gets a very wild, fey look in his eyes whenever your name comes up." <<else>> meaningfully, "He <i>trusts</i> you, you know. If you know anything about his past and his general state of mind, you'll know that's much rarer than most people would think. He used to tell Ari and I that he's <i>allergic</i> to trust. Actively seems to abhor it, in most cases." <</if>><</nobr>> He runs an absent hand through his thick curls. "I say all this to, eh, not to influence you or dictate your behavior in any way… but just to provide some context. You're important to him, but that also means he's more vulnerable to you than to most. Certainly more so than he's allowed himself to be in the past. That's not always going to be a comfortable feeling, for him." You arch a brow, tilting your head in question. <<nobr>><<if ($intelligence >= 50 and $charisma >= 50 and $chasesex is false)>> "So… what? It sounds like you're asking me to… not hurt him? To be careful of not breaking his trust?" You're almost positive that Chase would sunnily and cheerily throttle his lieutenant if he knew this conversation was even taking place. <<else>> "What are you saying?" <</if>><</nobr>> Kato grimaces, looking sheepish. "I don't really know what I'm saying," he admits. "Just this: Chase isn't due any more patience or understanding than the next person, most would say. But he carries a heavy, heavy yoke of guilt around with him, much as he tries to hide it. Sometimes I think it chokes him so badly that he has to pelt away from it, slapdash, like a wolf flailing against a collar in an attempt to either break it or end its own torment. And sometimes those chains knot him up." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"...What?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68317'>><<setintelligence -5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Yes, I've certainly noticed this about him."</div>' 'autogenerated_68318'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Oh, don't worry. I know more than enough about being shackled by guilt."</div>' 'autogenerated_68319'>><<setchase +1>><</link>> <<if $courage >= 65>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"What is it exactly that you want me to do, Kato?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68320'>><<setcourage +1>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Could you speak in less oblique terms?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68321'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Kato sighs. "Nothing. Never mind." He turns back to his task and gives you an airy wave from over his shoulder. "See you later, <<c rank>>." <<include 'lookingforchaseinwhitestone'>>

Kato's expression lightens in relief. "I'm glad. He's not an easy man to understand, or even to discern, sometimes, but knowing this about him can make a lot of his actions make more sense. I just thought to give you fair warning, but it seems you already know it all." He gives you a friendly wave and returns to his task. "See you later, <<c firstname>>." <<include 'lookingforchaseinwhitestone'>>

Kato's expression lightens in relief. "I see. That's probably why the two of you get along so well, then. Well, I thought to give you fair warning, but it seems you already know everything I would have said." He gives you a friendly wave and returns to his task. "See you later, <<c firstname>>." <<include 'lookingforchaseinwhitestone'>>

The pickpocket looks rueful. <<nobr>><<if ($chasesex is true and $chaseromanceflag >= 25)>> "Nothing," he answers, shrugging lightly. "I just hoped to give you a clearer picture of things, that's all. In case you needed it." <br><br> On that slightly ominous note, he turns back to his task with a friendly wave of his shoulder. "Anyway, I should get back to this. See you later, <<c firstname>>." <<else>> "Nothing, really," he answers, shrugging lightly. "I just hoped to give you a clearer picture of things, that's all. You'll do whatever you think is right, of course, but I just hope you won't take Chase's trust lightly. I've been trying to nurse it back to health, all these years, but it's still a fragile thing. I'm just trying to protect it, I suppose. I'm a little afraid of what will happen to him if it gets broken again." <br><br> On that slightly ominous note, he turns back to his task with a friendly wave of his shoulder. "Anyway, I should get back to this. See you later, <<c firstname>>." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'lookingforchaseinwhitestone'>>

Kato's lips twitch. "I don't think so, no. Maybe one day it will make more sense." He turns back to his task and gives you a friendly wave over his shoulder. "See you later, <<c firstname>>." <<include 'lookingforchaseinwhitestone'>>

<<page_break "..." "chase_encounter">>

Still ruminating over Kato's cryptic words, you make your way up to the address he gave you, hiking up the steep, bright streets towards Sunnar Joryston's minor estate in Whitestone. The solicitor lives in a less opulent part of the district than the neighborhoods housing the landed nobles and truly wealthy; here, narrow townhouses and brownstone city apartments jostle together for attention, populated by merchants, bankers, and lawyers living on the edge of their means to afford a small allotment among the city's elite. You don't stick out as obviously as you do in, say, Riel's part of town; in fact, hardly anyone even spares you a second glance as you forge your way towards where Chase is supposed to be. You spot him coming from the opposite direction at the same time he sees you. <<nobr>><<if $chasesex is true>> Chase was strolling along in his usual lax, nonchalant way, his hands in his jacket pockets as he smiled to himself in a pleased, jaunty manner, but at your appearance, his expression immediately lights up with genuine excitement. <<if $chaseromanceflag >= 25>> With a cheerful greeting, he rushes forward and sweeps you into an enthusiastic embrace—complete with an outrageous, possessive kiss, right there in the middle of the sidewalk. <br><br> "Darling," he purrs, pulling away to nuzzle your hair affectionately. "Did you come all the way here just to meet me?" He nips your earlobe playfully. "Couldn't get enough of me last night, eh?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Laugh and elbow him in the side. "It seems as if <i>you're</i> the one who can't get enough."</div>' 'autogenerated_68322'>><<setchase +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Kiss him back. "I'll admit it. I had a craving."</div>' 'autogenerated_68323'>><<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Push him away. "You dolt, not in the middle of the street like this!"</div>' 'autogenerated_68324'>><<setchase -5>><<set $chaseromanceflag -= 5>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <<else>> "Sweetheart," he says genially, appraising you with the corners of his eyes turned up in a happy, content way, as if you had arranged to meet him here all along. "You came here looking for me?" <br><br> You snort. "Who else?" <br><br> Chase's eyes dance with mirth. "Could have been anyone," he returns, his look innocent. "Sunnar Joryston, for one thing. That's his house down the street." He jerks his thumb back over his shoulder. <br><br> <<include "chase_walk">> <</if>> <<else>> Chase was strolling along in his usual lax, nonchalant way, smiling to himself in a pleased manner with his hands in his jacket pockets, but at your appearance, his expression immediately breaks into a genuine grin. <br><br> "<<c nickname>>," he says genially, sauntering up to you as if you'd arranged to meet here beforehand. "Looking for me?" <br><br> You snort. "Who else?" <br><br> Chase's eyes dance with mirth. "Could have been anyone," he returns, his look innocent. "Sunnar Joryston, for one thing. That's his house down the street." He jerks his thumb back over his shoulder. <br><br> <<include "chase_walk">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Chase chuckles into your ear. "I do admit I'm pleased to see you," he murmurs. "Well, if you're really impatient, I know an excellent hotel not one block from here…" <<include 'chase_walk'>>

Chase chuckles into your ear. "Is that so?" He gives you a considering sidelong glance. "Well, if you're really impatient, I know an excellent hotel not one block from here…" <<include 'chase_walk'>>

Chase laughs, though he immediately releases you. "I'm sorry, <<nobr>><<if $gender is "female">>my lady,<<elseif $gender is "male">>my lord,<<else>>my sweet,<</if>><</nobr>>" he answers easily. "I was momentarily overcome by the sight of you." <<include 'chase_walk'>>

The two of you turn and walk back together in the direction you came, intent on <<nobr>><<if $chaseread is true>>heading to the library together—something you'd both discussed a few days ago.<<else>>finding some cafe or restaurant to duck into to wile some time away.<</if>><</nobr>> As you stroll, Chase gives you a brief rundown of his reconnaissance mission: he turned up at Joryston's house with the solicitor's "lost" pocketbook, and was summarily welcomed with gusto into the lawyer's household for a drink and some polite conversation, though Chase wryly points out that it devolved primarily into talking about gambling and some pointed, roundabout queries about how the man might procure recreational drugs "for a client." Regardless, somehow—in that short span of time—Chase was able to ascertain the location of the documents he's been seeking, and will shortly set up some of his thieves to keep an eye on the house and get a better idea of its layout and the schedules of its residents… <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You listen enthusiastically. This has been such a rush to be a part of!</div>' 'autogenerated_68325'>><<setchase +1>><<setloyal -5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You listen neutrally. You're interested in what Chase gets up to, but the details of the heist are only as interesting to you as anything else would be.</div>' 'autogenerated_68326'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You listen hesitantly. Now that it's actually happening, you're not sure you feel so comfortable taking part in a real crime...</div>' 'autogenerated_68327'>><<setchase -1>><<set $chaseromanceflag -= 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You listen unhappily. It's too late now, but Sunnar Joryston doesn't seem like a bad sort. Do these people really deserve to be robbed...?</div>' 'autogenerated_68328'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

You talk eagerly as you and Chase hash out the logistics of the heist. Once Chase figures out a way to slip into Joryston's house without anyone noticing his presence, he'll be able to slip the documents out of the safe, present them to the offending nobles—Joryston's cousins, the corrupt weapons manufacturers you staked out the first time you and Chase walked along Haven's rooftops—and see what he can leverage for their return. It's a paltry sum for an empire such as theirs, and arguably not very much for the amount that Chase has been putting into this scheme, but added up with all of the other little leads the Thieves Guild is still pursuing, plus their Shepherds' pay, it will be enough to accumulate an 'emergency stash,' as Chase calls it. In the past, the thieves never had a stable enough source of income to actually save up as a group… <<include 'clickclack'>>

You listen as Chase sketches out the logistics of the heist. Once Chase figures out a way to slip into Joryston's house without anyone noticing his presence, he'll be able to slip the documents out of the safe, present them to the offending nobles—Joryston's cousins, the corrupt weapons manufacturers you staked out the first time you and Chase walked along Haven's rooftops—and see what he can leverage for their return. It's a paltry sum for an empire such as theirs, and arguably not very much for the amount that Chase has been putting into this scheme, but added up with all of the other little leads the Thieves Guild is still pursuing, plus their Shepherds' pay, it will be enough to accumulate an 'emergency stash,' as Chase calls it. In the past, the thieves never had a stable enough source of income to actually save up as a group… <<include 'clickclack'>>

Chase catches your expression, then pauses. "Ah," he says softly, not without sympathy. "There, you see? I knew it wasn't a good idea to involve you. Can't have your reputation—or your conscience—tarnished by my schemes. You're the Hero of Haven, after all." "It's not about that," you begin. <<include 'clickclack'>>

Chase catches your expression, then pauses. "Ah," he says softly, not without sympathy. "Having second thoughts, $nickname? It's all right. I don't blame you." He gives a loose, open-handed kind of shrug. "It's my line of work, so I'm desensitized to the ethics of it all, but this <i>is</i> how the guild's made a living, these past two hundred years." "But you're part of the Shepherds now," you argue. "You don't need to steal anymore. You don't need the money. Your every need is taken care of by the Order." Chase's expression turns shadowed. "That's only if we stay with the Order forever," he points out quietly, almost as if talking to himself. At your shocked look, Chase shrugs. "Well, that's the ugly truth of it all, isn't it, $nickname? The Order may not be around forever. An illegal Circle of Mages, once-exiled Hunters, <i>and</i> a band of thieves at its heart? Inquisitors and Vice Guards pressing in on all sides? Assuming everything keeps going exactly as it has been—which would be a very foolish assumption to make—it's not necessarily true that the Order will always be able to provide for us. One downturn in the economy, one order from the Autarch, and that could all go up in smoke. And on the other side, it may not always benefit the <i>Shepherds</i> to keep us around forever. Events may transpire that necessitate us parting ways someday. Should I not store up our coffers, just in case something like that ever happens? Isn't it better to take some of the burden off of the Order, so that we're not <i>all</i> left high and dry if that day ever comes?" "You could put your skills to use at something other than stealing," you persist stubbornly. Chase looks briefly dry. "My job before that was killing people," he points out mildly. "And before that, being a corsair. Sorry, $nickname. Crime's in my blood, I'm afraid." <<include 'clickclack'>>

Then, quite suddenly, the sharp <i>click-clack</i> of pointed little heels comes rushing up on the pavement behind you. <<page_break "Next" "lookingforchaseinwhitestone2">>

You and Chase both turn, curious but not alarmed; experienced soldiers like you can tell the difference between an everyday interruption and a threat. <<nobr>><<if $chasesex is true>> Chase's arm is slung casually around your shoulders; imperceptibly, his muscles tighten, as if to draw you protectively against him, but his look only remains indolently curious as you both look over your shoulders. <</if>><</nobr>> You're surprised to find a young woman in the obvious uniform of a lady's maid or some other servant of a high house, a dun-brown skirt and white cap that seem incongruous with the young lady's sleek, glamorous features. She has chin-length dark hair, smooth beige skin, and heavy, sensuous eyes, the lower fringe of her eyelashes giving her a unique, sultry look. She looks like she could be an actress, but more surprising than seeing such a person serving as a simple maid is the look of towering rage in her eyes as she stares at you. Or, more accurately, as she stares at Chase. "You," the young woman breathes. You see that her shoulders are trembling a little with fury, her fists clenched white-knuckled at her sides. The sheer hatred on her face makes you mentally reach for your weapon. <<nobr>><<if $chasesex is true>> Now Chase's arm does slide off of your shoulders. <</if>><</nobr>> "I can't <i>believe</i> that it's you. I <i>never</i> thought you'd show your face here, <i>never</i>—" Chase looks mystified, as if he's never seen this young woman in his life, but his expression is also unusually perturbed now as he seems to visibly brace himself from edging back from her. "I think you must mistake me for someone else," he says politely, though without his usual sense of unruffled humor. "If I've done something to offend you…" The young woman spits on him, the glob of saliva landing square on his shirtfront. Chase goes very still, but he doesn't move. His eyes are fixed on the young woman's face, unreadable now. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Step forward to menace her. "How dare you! Try that again, and you won't like what happens."</div>' 'saya_sister_response1'>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setcourage +1>><<setloyal -3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Protest. "You have no right treating him that way."</div>' 'saya_sister_response2'>><<setcourage +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Question her. "What exactly is it that you're so upset about?"</div>' 'saya_sister_response3'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Look to Chase. "Are you all right, Chase?"</div>' 'saya_sister_response4'>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>> <<if $chase < 40 or $compassionate < 40 or $loyal < 40>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Snicker. Chase must have done something to deserve this.</div>' 'saya_sister_response5'>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setloyal -10>><<setchase -10>><<set $chaseromanceflag -= 5>><</link>><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

The woman's eyes blaze, as if she wants to spit at you, too. However, she refrains. "How dare <i>I</i>?" she asks, again in that tone of outrage. Her eyes are huge, and now her hands, too, are shaking. "You don't know what he's <i>done</i>. I'd stab him through the heart, if I could." <<include "saya_sister_accusation">>

The woman's eyes blaze, as if she wants to spit at you, too. However, she refrains. "You don't know what he's <i>done</i>. I have no right? I have <i>every</i> right. I'd stab him through the heart, if I could." <<include "saya_sister_accusation">>

The woman's eyes narrow suspiciously at you, but it's clear that you're not the object of her ire: Chase is. "So he hasn't told you, has he? Figures. A coward like him could never own up to it." <<include "saya_sister_accusation">>

The woman's eyes blaze, as if she wants to spit at you, too. "I could do far worse to him than that!" she cries. "I'd stab him through the heart, if I could." <<include "saya_sister_accusation">>

Chase's expression deadens, and you almost feel a palpable chill, a distance develop between the two of you. The woman's eyes narrow suspiciously at you, but it's clear that you're not the object of her ire: Chase is. "It's no laughing matter. But I suppose <i>you</i> wouldn't know. A coward like him could never own up to it." <<include "saya_sister_accusation">>

Chase calmly wipes the front of his shirt with a kerchief, his expression curiously flat now. Without looking up, he says quietly, "We should go, <<c firstname>>." The young woman gives a sharp, cruel laugh. "Yes," she says in a mocking voice. "Go, Chase Trinaeste. Run away from what you've done. I'm sure you've gotten used to that." "What is going on?" you demand, looking back and forth between the two of them. The young woman stares at Chase, who still doesn't look up, methodically tidying his clothes as he seems to collect his thoughts. Or maybe his nerves. "You don't recognize me, do you?" she asks softly, as if you're not there at all. "Well. You never met me in person. But I saw <i>you</i>. Saya showed me who you were, from afar, when you didn't know we were watching." Her face contorts in an expression of honest revulsion. "At the time, I said you were <i>handsome</i>. That she was lucky to have you." Her eyes narrow further, turning her face pinched and twisted. "And then, a few weeks later, you <b>killed</b> her." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You can't help the shocked gasp that escapes you at that.</div>' 'autogenerated_68329'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Say nothing. This is between the two of them.</div>' 'autogenerated_68330'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Glance at Chase to gauge his expression.</div>' 'autogenerated_68331'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

The young woman shoots you a triumphant look, as if to say, <i>See? My anger is justified, is it not?</i> However, Chase continues to remain dead silent. His eyes are shadowed by his hair, and you can't quite make out his true expression. He's still looking down at his shirt, handkerchief balled uselessly in his hand now. He's so still that you think even a gust of wind wouldn't ruffle his hair. <<include 'saya_sister_continues'>>

Chase's eyes are shadowed by his hair. He's still looking down at his shirt, handkerchief balled uselessly in his hand now. He's so still that you think even a gust of wind wouldn't ruffle his hair. <<include 'saya_sister_continues'>>

However, Chase's eyes are shadowed by his hair. He's still looking down at his shirt, handkerchief balled uselessly in his hand now. He's so still that you think even a gust of wind wouldn't ruffle his hair. <<include 'saya_sister_continues'>>

The young woman shakes her head slowly, her hands twisting uselessly in her skirts as she continues in a low, deadly voice, "I never could approach you, after that. I found work—good, honest work—as a lady's maid, and I tried to p-put my sister's murder behind me, but…" Her voice wobbles dangerously for a moment. But then she looks up, and her eyes are fierce and sparking again. "But then I stopped by to deliver something to my mistress's cousin just now, and <i>you</i> were there. Up to your same old tricks again. I had to follow you to be sure, but… it's you. The gods must either love or curse me." It all clicks into place, then. The first time you had an outing with Chase, the two of you held a rooftop stakeout of that weapons-dealer's house, and he left early to tail a maid who he thought would have possession of the documents he coveted. That must have been this same young woman, though she hadn't seen him that time. But now she has. The maid raises a shaking finger at Chase. "Stay away from my mistress's family," she pronounces, two bright red splotches high on her face. "Or I'll—I'll tell them everything, who you are, what you've done. What you did to my sister! And then they'll be sure to call the Vice Guard on you. You won't escape your hanging this time." She throws the both of you a hateful glance, then whirls and vanishes in a flurry of aproned skirts. … You glance tentatively at Chase. He looks like he's going to be sick. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You okay?"</div>' 'chase_response1'>><<setchase +1>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Well, that was weird."</div>' 'chase_response1'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I think you've got some explaining to do."</div>' 'chase_response1'>><<setchase -5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Was what she said just now... true?"</div>' 'chase_response1'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Chase blows out a long breath. He looks completely different to your eyes now: grim, sad, resigned, unmanned. He shakes his head slowly and simply says, "Not here." <<page_break "..." "chase_rooftop">>

In silence, you follow Chase to… you don't even think <i>he</i> knows where. Rather blindly, he ducks and weaves through the bustling streets of Whitestone until he finds an alleyway to slip into; following that passageway leads you to a metal set of rungs fixed to the back of an apartment building. Climbing that leads you, predictably, to the roof, though rather than the slippery, treacherous eaves and shingles that you're used to navigating with Chase, this is a flat, open expanse created specifically for the purpose of having more space in this urban district. It's more of a terrace than anything, with someone's line of laundry drying in the sun in one corner and a wooden coop filled with cooing pigeons on the other side of the roof. Chase, obviously familiar with this place—so he did know where he was going, after all—strides past the pigeon coop and sinks down onto the hip-high stone ledge lining the edges of the rooftop. You sit down beside him, and for a long moment, nothing passes between the two of you except for the soft rustling sounds of feathery wings and the flapping of a white shirtdress in the breeze. Finally Chase stirs and murmurs, "Well. I'd noticed her coming in and passing me in Joryston's hallway, but from the way she stopped and stared…" He shakes his head slowly. "I didn't think she actually <i>knew</i> me." "She said she was Saya's sister?" you ask carefully. Chase is silent for a long moment. "Half-sister," he says finally, his voice as heavy and toneless as lead. "As if that matters. She was raised by a different mother and was ten years younger… but I only ever heard of her. Never met her, didn't know what she looked like. I didn't know they… kept in touch. Or even spent any time together." He grimaces and puts his elbows on his knees, head and legs dangling dangerously over the lip of the roof. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Touch his shoulder in silent support.</div>' 'chase_explains_past'>><<setchase +1>><<set $chaseharden += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You don't have to tell me anything else, you know. It's up to you."</div>' 'chase_explains_past'>><<setchase +3>><<set $chaseharden += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Wait patiently for him to say more.</div>' 'chase_explains_past'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Prompt him impatiently. "And? Who was this Saya? Did you really... kill her?"</div>' 'chase_explains_past'>><<setchase -5>><<set $chaseharden -= 1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Chase drags in a long breath, as if he's in an airtight chamber with a dwindling air supply. He says haltingly, his green eyes fixed determinedly on the sprawling city horizon: "It's like I told you. I thought I was an orphan, when I was a kid. My mother died before I was even old enough to walk, and I went straight to the foundlings' home. Eventually my father returned to port and came around to claim me, and I was a tarboy on his corsair ship for a lot of my youth, helping raid merchant convoys and skirting military fleets. I don't even know if I was his <i>only</i> kid on that ship—there were a lot of boys just like me running around. He certainly didn't treat me much like his son, let alone his only son. We were all pretty disposable to him, I think." He shrugs, his eyes distant. "At some point the ship hit a streak of bad luck—unforgivably so, I suppose—and the crew mutinied against him and hung him. Strung him up on the mast, then divided all the spoils between themselves and left some of us tarboys stranded on the ship as they rowed away. How's that for your first taste of family?" He smiles to himself, not quite nostalgic, more bitter, but there's a tinge of awful irony to it. "After that, I drifted around for a while, trying my hand out on different ships. None of them worked out, for one reason or another. More mutinies, or broken to pieces by privateer's cannons, or something else. Eventually I ended up back in Conte…" He shrugs hopelessly. "I got tangled up in a crime-lord's little cadre there. Notheim: we talked about him. The Puppetmaster of the Southern Crescent. And he saw me, a half-grown teenager aimless and purposeless and <i>starving</i> for some kind of stability, a roof over his head, a table to eat at, maybe even some praise and usefulness, <i>any</i> proof that someone saw him and cared whether he lived or died…" He trails off, then takes in another ragged breath. "I was his attack dog for a long time. His trained assassin, a contract-killer on his leash. I put bullets between his enemies' eyes just for a scrap of his approval. Just like some feral, kicked thing. I was particularly good at it because no one ever expected a knife in the ribs from a scruffy kid like me. Until…" He shrugs. "Until I couldn't take <i>that</i> anymore, either. Notheim, predictably, wasn't a very nice person, any more than my father was. Worse, even. He pushed me too far." Then he looks sidelong at you. "You might as well know. I killed <i>him</i>, too." <<page_break "Next" "chase_history_2">>

He looks away again after a moment. "I drifted some more. Plied my trade as a freelancer, picking up jobs here and there, where I could. If I hadn't seen what drink did to my father and his lieutenants, I probably would have gone to the bottle sooner or later. I didn't know what I was doing any of it for, what I was living for. I just kept getting up, going through the motions, finding the next job, finishing it…" He sighs. "Then, one day, I wound up in Haven. Took a job to extract some information from a man—not too far from here, actually. Well-connected, well-protected, corrupt as sin. Breaking into his bedroom, I ran into a thief who was slipping <i>out</i>—with a grab-bag of his coin. Saya. She took note of me, but it was just a passing moment. Just two professionals passing each other in the night." His tone turns extremely reluctant. "The job went wrong. Long story short, the mansion went up in flames. I was shot, bleeding, burned—half-dead, really, and I thought it was finally curtains for me, though I took out a big swathe of the other guy's forces before I couldn't lift my gun-arm anymore. But Saya… came back for me. She'd stuck around to see what happened. Dragged me out of the flames. And it turned out that she was a lieutenant for the Thieves Guild. Just like Kato or Ari is now. She took me there, and they sheltered me while I healed. She saved my life that night." Abruptly, he stops talking. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"So that's how you joined the Thieves Guild. You always avoided saying exactly how."</div>' 'autogenerated_68332'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Why did she save you?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68333'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Were you lovers?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68334'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Chase gives a short, humorless chuckle. "Did I? Well, it wasn't personal. I've just gotten used to not thinking about it." <<include 'chase_explains_saya'>>

Chase shrugs. "I don't know. At the time, I was so addled, I thought she'd done it out of altruism. Like some kind of avenging angel, or a saint. Now I think it's because she thought I was an easy mark, and a strong soldier to recruit for the guild. Someone so starved for a home that she could control him utterly if she only extended her hand enough to give him one." He grimaces. "She saw my usefulness, that's all. Made an investment in my potential. She was just another Notheim, in a way." <<include 'chase_explains_saya'>>

For a moment, Chase's deafening silence makes it seem as if he's simply not going to answer. Then he stirs and says, "If you really want to know. 'Lovers' implies some kind of partnership and affection between equals. We weren't that. I was her lapdog, and I think she viewed me as just that. She didn't love me. She just saw me as useful, and… biddable. If she said jump, I usually jumped. She liked that part about me, anyway." He shrugs. "As for me… I thought I loved her. I would have died for her, at some point. But knowing me, who knows if that was even real love? Maybe it was just Notheim all over again." <<include 'chase_explains_saya'>>

As if disturbed by the conversation, the pigeons to your left rustle and coo as they jostle for position on their perches. Finally Chase says, his tone hurrying now, as if he's suddenly eager to get the conversation done and over with: "I'll just cut right to the point, shall I? After I was up on my feet again, I took to the Thieves Guild like a duck to water. Outside of my skillset, I was also dogged, almost obsessed, about the idea of serving my new family. Of having a place to belong, to build up. I suddenly had a purpose again, and it wasn't as evil as what I'd been doing before… or so I thought." He looks down at his hands, and his expression is a complicated one, almost of dislike or frustration or loathing, like he'd prefer to saw them off at the wrists and fling them over the rooftops. "I served the guild well, just another one of its members, for over a year. The guild-leader at the time, Malachi… he liked me. Saw my progress, my loyalty, saw that I was content doing whatever the guild needed me to do. Saw that the other thieves liked me, too. Saya had been serving him as his right-hand for years, but when the time came to announce his successor… he chose <i>me</i>. Over her." He shakes his head wonderingly. "I remember arguing with him about it. Telling him I would not, could not, take the position over Saya. That she'd never forgive me if I did. That he was ruining our relationship, <i>and</i> making the wrong choice to boot. Malachi insisted he wasn't. Said that I couldn't see it, but Saya had a darkness in her. She wanted the power too much. Said I'd be better at the job because I didn't want it at all." A kind of dead laugh huffs out of him at that. "I remember being in such anguish over the whole thing. Saya was furious, of course. Stormed out of the hideout, cursing me and Malachi in the same breath. But then, a few days later… she came back. Calmer, a little sweeter. Like she often was after saying or doing something… regrettable." He shrugs. "She said she was going to make amends with Malachi, after all. That she wasn't exactly happy about his choice, but maybe, if she waited things out, he'd either change his mind, or… when he truly left the guild, maybe I could give her the mantle instead. And in the meantime, could I help smooth things over by helping her steal this thing he wanted for his birthday? Another heist, like all the other ones I'd gotten so good at leading? And could I take a team of my best, like Kato and some others, to make sure all went well? Of course I said yes. I would have jumped at any opportunity to make her forgive me—even if it was for something I hadn't done." <<page_break "Next" "chase_history_4">>

You hold your breath as Chase draws to the conclusion of his story, his voice wooden. "It was a setup—of course. Saya told the Vice Guard exactly where we'd be. And, while we were away from base, she… organized an uprising against Malachi. Killed him in his office. Shot him dead over his desk, then killed or bullied any remaining neutrals into joining her side." He blinks, his expression remote. "And me… I had brought all of his true loyalists with me. I was in some ambassador's study when the Vice Guard showed up and I put together what was going on. I gave the others enough warning for them to get away before they got arrested, but I wound up blowing myself half to hell and landing in a garrison jail cell before anything else could be done about it. She didn't even do me the courtesy of showing up to my hanging." He issues a hollow laugh. "They put the noose around my neck, you know. It was almost a relief, given the alternative was lying in that dank cell and thinking about what had just happened. About what had just been <i>done</i> to me, to all of us. About the—the betrayal, the <i>lie</i> of it all. No, not almost. I <i>was</i> relieved. At that point I sincerely welcomed the idea of death." His eyes close. "Kato and the others wouldn't leave it alone, though. Funny thing is, if Saya <i>had</i> shown up, she might have put a stop to things. What ended up happening was… Kato shot through the rope before it broke my neck. Using the trick <i>I</i> taught him, little bastard." He stares down at the long fall to the ground for a while. Then he says, his voice low now: "We showed up back at the hideout in full force, them dragging me burned again and half-dead and fair having to prop me up all the while. But they were too scared and confused to face her alone. Saya wasn't happy to see us, of course. But she didn't scream, she didn't laugh maniacally, she didn't try to justify herself. She was as cool and businesslike as if she'd never met any of us before in her life. She drew on me without a word. I moved before I even had a chance to think. All those years as my father's watchdog, Notheim's, <i>Saya's</i>…" His voice breaks. "It was like second nature. I was firing before I even knew what I was doing. She hit me, too, but I didn't miss. She died choking on her blood, damning me to Hael even as her heart pumped its last and the light went out of her eyes." He tenses briefly, his fingers curling over the lip of the roof, and for a dizzying, terrifying moment, you think you might have to put your hand on his shoulder to deter… something. But then the tension seems to jerk out of him, abruptly, like a puppet whose string has been cut, and he sags and says, almost lightly, "So everything her sister said was true. I did kill the woman who was my bedmate. And the former leader of Thieves Guild. If I hadn't been so blind as to leave the base unprotected—I might have killed Malachi, too, at least through my own foolishness." He gives a weary wave of his hands, like a king indicating a vanquished, ruined kingdom. "And that's how I became leader of Thieves Guild. I inherited the title through blood, betrayal, and a single bullet. And I probably wouldn't have stayed, but with Saya and Malachi both dead, there wasn't anyone else to guide them. They were young and terrified, and I pitied them; they might as well have been me when my father's crew mutinied and disbanded. And I thought taking up the life of a drifter again would probably leave me dead by the end of things, which I was mostly fine with, but I kept putting it off, thinking, <i>'I'll just help them get through one more winter, I'll just train them in one last thing, I'll just pull off one more heist to shore up their funds, and then I'll leave'</i>… Until enough years had passed that I just gave up on the whole thing. Coward that I am." He turns his face away from you, arms braced as if expecting a blow. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You blow out a breath. "Wow. That's... quite a story."</div>' 'autogenerated_68335'>><<setchase -5>><<set $chaseharden -= 3>><<set $chasestatus to "He's told you his deepest, darkest secrets.">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Put your hand on his shoulder. "I am so sorry that happened to you, Chase. More sorry than I can express. You didn't deserve any of that."</div>' 'autogenerated_68336'>><<set $chasestatus to "The trust between you is immense.">><<setcompassionate +5>><<setchase +3>><<set $chaseharden += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You're shaking with rage. "That Saya is... evil! What a fucking <i>bitch</i>!"</div>' 'autogenerated_68337'>><<setcompassionate -1>><<setcourage +1>><<set $chasestatus to "The trust between you is immense.">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Take his hand. "Thank you for telling me. I just want you to know that this doesn't change how I see you."</div>' 'autogenerated_68338'>><<set $chaseharden += 2>><<setchase +5>><<setcompassionate +5>><<set $chasestatus to "The trust between you is immense.">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Draw him into a silent hug.</div>' 'autogenerated_68339'>><<setchase +5>><<set $chaseharden += 2>><<setcompassionate +5>><<set $chasestatus to "The trust between you is immense.">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Withdraw from him in revulsion. He killed his own lover? Damaged and ruined a whole swathe of people's lives? You don't think you can look at him the same way again.</div>' 'chase_revulsion'>><<set $chaseharden -= 10>><<set $chaseromanceflag to 0>><<setchase %-90>><<set $chasehate to true>><<set $chasestatus to "The trust between you has been irrevocably broken.">><</link>> <<if $compassionate < 40 and $cunning >= 75>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Scoff. "You were an idiot blinded by love. I can't believe you let her take advantage of you like that."</div>' 'chase_revulsion2'>><<set $chaseharden -= 10>><<set $chaseromanceflag to 0>><<setchase %-90>><<set $chasehate to true>><<set $chasestatus to "The trust between you has been irrevocably broken.">><</link>><</if>> <<if $compassionate > 40 or $cunning < 75>><div class="inactive-item">Scoff. "You were an idiot blinded by love. I can't believe you let her take advantage of you like that."</div><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

Chase doesn't look up at you. "Tell me about it," he mutters. "Now you know why I don't tell it to anyone." <<include 'chase_after_story'>>

<<nobr>><<if $chaseromanceflag >= 25 and $chasesex is true>> <<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> Chase gives a choked kind of laugh. "Thanks, <<c firstname>>," he says after a moment, his voice thick. He's still looking anywhere but you, <<nobr>><<if $chasesex is true and $chaseromanceflag >= 20>> but he relaxes into your touch, leaning his head against your shoulder after a moment, tucking his chin against your collarbone. He smells, comfortingly, of amber and pomade and well-made leather. You have to stop yourself from pressing your lips to his brow, your fingers itching to card through his hair. <<elseif $chase >= 80>> but he relaxes into your touch, at least, leaning against your side as suddenly and heavily as a wounded soldier against a trusted comrade. <<else>> but the minute shaking in his shoulders eases, at least. <</if>><</nobr>>"I… I don't know if I quite believe that, sometimes, but… it is nice to tell you the full truth, at least. I think." <<include 'chase_after_story'>>

Chase is silent for a long moment, seemingly too numb or indifferent to the matter to respond to anger now. After a moment he simply shrugs. "It is what it is." "No," you say hotly. "What it is is <i>bullshit</i>. And then for her sister to <i>spit</i> on you—" "I shot her sister dead, <<c firstname>>," Chase tells you, sounding immensely weary. "Whatever the reasons, if I'd done the same to a sibling of yours, I daresay you'd feel the same way." <<nobr>><<if $lavinethate is true>> <br><br> You think of Lavinet and Prihine, suddenly, and stop guiltily. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'chase_after_story'>>

<<nobr>><<if $chasesex is true and $chaseromanceflag >= 25>> <<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> Chase jerks, pulling in a breath as if you'd just punched him in the gut. He doesn't look at you, but his shoulders wind up, and he stares out at the horizon, blinking hard. After a long moment, he only says thickly, airlessly, "Thanks, <<c firstname>>. I don't know if I can believe you, but…" He suddenly looks away and scrubs at his eyes with his other hand. "It's a relief to tell you the full story, at least." <<nobr>> <<if $chase >= 85>> His grip on your hand is as tight as a rescued climber holding on to the only thing keeping him from tumbling back into a ravine. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'chase_after_story'>>

<<if $chasesex is true and $chaseromanceflag >= 25>> <<set $chaseromanceflag += 1>> <</if>> Chase makes a shocked, hurt sound like a gasp, turning rigid in your arms as he tenses up while you embrace. But soon his weight sags against you abruptly, like a wounded soldier who's dragged himself all night across enemy lines and can now collapse at the entrance of the medical tent, and shortly enough his shoulders are quaking silently against you. You feel the press of heat and saltwater against your shoulder, and you close your eyes as you feel his lean arms gripping you fiercely, as if somehow afraid you'll be torn from him. An immense sadness and pity moves through your chest in a rolling wave. How long has he denied himself peace or love or acceptance? Has it ever been sincerely offered to him? <<nobr>> <<if $chasesex is true and $chaseromanceflag >= 25>> <br><br> Despite yourself, you find yourself stroking Chase's hair, silently kissing the tears from his cheeks, from his temple, your lips tingling from the salt of it. It's a tender gesture, with none of the hunger or passion of your kisses before, and you're not even sure if Chase is aware of it. But for this one suspended moment, you only want to hold him while he surrenders himself to you. <</if>><</nobr>> Eventually, his shuddering subsides, and the thief finally eases back from you and spends a moment composing himself again, muttering an embarrassed thanks. He doesn't quite meet your eye, <<nobr>><<if $chasesex is true>> but his grip on your knee is unmistakable. <<else>> but he pats your arm awkwardly in silent appreciation. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'chase_after_story'>>

Chase sees the look on your face, and his shoulders bow in on themselves as if he's been shot in the gut. And then, turning his head to stare steadfastly at his knees, he says quietly, "Well. There it is, isn't it, <<c firstname>>?" A resounding silence is all that meets his question. Disgust and contempt roil inside you as you stare at him. How could this funny, charming man actually house such a corrupt, pitiable, aimless spirit inside him? Was anything you ever knew about him prior to this even true? Or has he just been lying to you and everyone in the Shepherds about who and what he really is? Does he have any moral compass at all? You can't be sure. He's so absorbed in his own sense of victimhood that he continues to justify and deflect blame for <i>murdering his own lover</i>. If that isn't an unsalvageable soul, you don't know what is. The two of you decline to speak for a moment. Finally Chase drags in another breath and says, "I'll leave you alone now." He unwinds himself from the rooftop ledge—still full of that lithe, silent grace—and shortly after disappears from your sight. Aside from the disconcerted rustling of the pigeons, it would be impossible to say if he was ever even there to begin with. <<include "chaseover">>

Chase gives a sharp, punctured-sounding laugh, like a man trying to laugh off a killing wound. "Neither can I," he says, with a trace of genuine amusement in his tone. "Neither can I." A long, awkward silence prevails between the two of you then. You want to criticize him further, berate him for being so blind and stupid—but honestly, you realize, nothing you say can match what Chase has undoubtedly told himself over the years. Eventually the thief looks at you, gives you a bitter smile, and says quietly, "Well, <<c firstname>>. It is what it is, isn't it?" You part ways after that. Chase, seemingly back to his old self now, flicks you an ironic salute and heads off alone to confer with Kato and his thieves about the revelation of Saya's half-sister and what she knows; he does not invite you to come along with him. There's something cool and remote in his eyes as he gazes across at you, as if you're looking into the eyes of a stranger—but then he smiles tightly one last time and is gone. Aside from the disconcerted rustling of the pigeons, it would be impossible to say if he was ever even there to begin with. <<include "chaseover">>

You talk for a long while, about all manner of things. Inwardly, your mind is spinning with this dizzying array of new information, the sudden coalescing of many filched and fragmented pieces of Chase's story into a final, honest whole. Has the playful, charming flirt you've known just been a mask all along, a coping mechanism for all of this hidden pain, or is that part of Chase just as real as the blood on his hands and the terrible guilt he's borne through the years? Does even he know? What you do know is this: the way Chase looks at you as you talk, with a look of part reverence, part awe, and part painful, vulnerable hope, is very real. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Focus on learning how he feels about it all. Does he feel guilty, tormented, angry, numb, resentful?</div>' 'chase_feelings'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Focus on comforting him and making him feel accepted. It sounds like what happened wasn't his fault.</div>' 'chase_comfort'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Focus on encouraging him to move on and develop healthy strategies to heal. Perhaps if he didn't bottle all of this up, or try so hard to present a likable, silly facade to others...</div>' 'chase_strategies'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Focus on offering your own experiences and telling Chase he's not alone in how he feels. You're well acquainted with how loss, trauma, and guilt—particularly survivor's guilt—can impact someone's state of mind.</div>' 'chase_shared_experience'>><<setcourage +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Focus on just listening to him.</div>' 'chase_listening'>><</link>> <<if $chasesex is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Focus on managing your own conflicted feelings. Hearing that Chase killed his last serious lover doesn't exactly make you feel great about sharing his bed...</div>' 'chase_conflicted'>><<set $chaseromanceflag -= 10>><<setchase -5>><<set $chaseharden -= 1>><</link>><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $chasesex is true>> And does he still love her? <br><br> Chase sighs heavily. "I feel nothing about her romantically," he admits. "I've long since accepted that what I thought that relationship was wasn't real—I just saw what I wanted to see so badly. But any feelings I had died when she left me to hang over a job I would have given her anyway. As for the guilt…" He trails off. "I hardly ever give myself any time to think about it." <br><br> Which explains a lot, you can't help but think. <<else>> Chase sighs heavily. "I hardly know," he admits. "I barely ever give myself any time to think about it." <br><br> Which explains a lot, you can't help but think. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "chase_ending5">>

It was Saya's choice to betray him and the guild, Saya's choice to murder the old guild leader, Saya's choice to draw on him… Chase sighs heavily. "It was," he says. "I know that. But I made my own choices, too. I could have not gone back to confront her. Could have chosen not to trust her in the first place. No, I played my part in things too, like it or not." He looks away. "And I can't blame it all on how I was brought up. Else everyone in the world could blame their actions on their pasts." <<include "chase_ending5">>

Although he doesn't argue with you—in fact, he often nods—Chase still looks vaguely panicked at the idea of talking about his feelings to anyone else, let alone his sordid past. But he listens to your suggestions in a resigned, somewhat considering manner. <<include "chase_ending5">>

"It wasn't exactly a betrayal," you say slowly, "but there were certainly times when… I felt like I didn't deserve to be alive. When I questioned why I lived and they didn't. Believe it or not, I know exactly how you feel. Or felt." Chase, looking at you sidelong, suddenly blows out a breath. "Ah, $nickname," he says softly. "But look at what you made of yourself since then, even aside from all that pain." You snort. "I could say the same of you." Chase smiles sadly. "A criminal and the Hero of Haven. There's not much comparison, is there?" But then he shakes his head slowly. "But you're right. We're more alike than I realized, I suppose. It's not a happy thing, but…" His smile turns somewhat rueful. "I'm glad to be in your company, at least." <<include "chase_ending5">>

Chase gives you an assessing sidelong glance, but he seems to appreciate your total acceptance as you listen to him talk about things he has clearly never discussed with others openly. Gone is the laughing, mischievous thief; sitting beside you now is a serious, perceptive man, one who is clearly uncomfortable examining his own emotions and state of mind as he is good at reading that of others… <<include "chase_ending5">>

Chase seems to notice your quiet, but from the conflicted look on his own face, he seems to choose not to address the feelings behind it. <<include "chase_ending5">>

You talk until the sun begins to sink towards the horizon, a weighted, molten ball of fire-glowing iron. Eventually <<nobr>><<if $chasesex is true and $chaseromanceflag >= 25>> Chase sighs, lifts a hand, and cups your cheek, his palm warm and affectionate as his thumb caresses your bottom lip and he murmurs, "Thank you for listening to all this, $nickname. For… not running away, now that you know what you know. This… this needn't change anything between <i>us</i>, either. I wouldn't want it to. Because I…" <<else>> Chase sighs, lifts a hand, and places it heavily on your shoulder. "I just wanted to say, thanks for listening to all of this, $nickname. For… not running away, now that you know what you know. It… means more than I can tell you. Because I've been holding it inside for so long that it felt like a cancer, eating me up from within. But maybe if I tell you, and try to… move on, maybe…" <</if>><</nobr>> However, he never gets to finish what he meant to say next. The door to the rooftop bangs open, and all of the pigeons in the coop leap into the air with a series of agitated wingbeats and alarmed coos. Chase's hand drops. A sullen-looking housewife with a dishwater-gray apron stumps into view, carrying a wicker basket to collect her laundry; she pauses at the sight of the two of you, her eyes widening as she seems to recognize Chase. "Thief-lord!" She drops into a hasty curtsy. "What can I do for you?" "Nothing more than you've already done, goodwife," Chase calls back genially, his tone airy and his posture as relaxed and lolling as ever, his easy demeanor blinking on as quickly as a gas lamp flame. "We were just borrowing your roof, but we've just finished. We'll be taking our leave now." So you make your departure, watching as the lady fervently kowtows and scrapes to Chase like he's the visiting monarch of a foreign country. Back at street-level, you ask the thief what he plans to do about his grand heist with Sunnar Joryston and his cousins. "Oh, that?" Chase asks absently. "That's off, to be sure. Not worth the hassle, knowing that Saya's sister has recognized me and is closely involved…" He trails off thoughtfully for another moment, clearly pondering something else. But then he blinks, looks around at you, and smiles faintly. "Anyway. Sorry to snivel to you about all this. I promise the next time will be more fun." "You know it doesn't have to be, though, right?" you ask him. <i>That <i><b>you</b></i> don't always have to be fun?</i> Chase winces, makes the fencer's gesture to indicate a good hit, and only smiles ruefully. You walk back home together, the quiet between you unusual for the thief… but meaningful. When it comes time to part ways, you ask him one last time if he's all right. "Just fine," Chase murmurs. And then he winks at you, shakes your shoulder slightly, chucks your chin, a little back to his usual self. Though something about it feels… more <i>real</i>, denser and more vivid somehow, a new and special kind of warmth in his voice as he adds: "Don't worry. I'll see you again soon, <<c firstname>>." He smiles quietly at you. "I'm not going anywhere." <<include "chaseover">>

<<if $capradayoff is true>> <<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "dayoff42">><<set $chasetime += 1>><</link>> <<else>> <<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "dayoff">><<set $chasetime += 1>><</link>> <</if>>

<<audio ":playing" fadeoverto 5 0>> <<if $halekhate is true>> Unfortunately, you can't find Halek no matter how hard you look... <br><br> Eventually, you give up. <br><br> <<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "dayoff">><<set $dayoff -= 1>><</link>> <<elseif $halektime is 0>> <<include "halekinterlude1">> <<elseif ($halektime is 1) and ($part < 8)>> <<include "halekinterlude2">> <<elseif ($halektime is 1) and ($part >= 8)>> Unfortunately, it seems you've missed the opportunity to spend time with this character. <br><br> <<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "dayoff">><<set $dayoff -= 1>><</link>> <<else>> [This section is INCOMPLETE. Please check back later.] <br><br> <<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "dayoff">><<set $dayoff -= 1>><</link>> <</if>>

<<nobr>><<sethalek +3>> <<set $halekstatus to "You're getting to know him better.">><</nobr>> You find Halek just as he seems to be preparing to leave the compound, shrugging on a dark, nondescript jacket and sporting his usual mild look of non-surprise when he sees you approaching. "Ah," he says, exactly as if you'd agreed to meet up beforehand. "I was just heading to Paper Alley to buy more ink and parchment. Naolin's running me ragged with all of the letters he's been sending. I've already broken two quills." You smile. "We have plenty of ink and parchment here, you know. Shery keeps all of our supplies well-stocked." Halek shrugs one broad shoulder. "Well, it's a good excuse to take in the city, stretch my legs a little. Coming?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Sure, why not? I don't have anything better to do."</div>' 'autogenerated_68340'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You read my mind. I was just coming to see if you wanted to spend some time together."</div>' 'autogenerated_68341'>><<sethalek +1>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Fine, but you owe me."</div>' 'autogenerated_68342'>><<setcunning +1>><<setcharisma -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"On second thought, I'm good."</div>' 'autogenerated_68343'>><<sethalek -3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Halek's eyes narrow, so that he's giving you a sardonic, rather cat-like expression of amusement. "Thank you kindly. I suppose I could do worse than serving as your distraction for a few hours." He jerks his head towards the atrium. "Shall we go?" <<include 'halek_head_out'>>

Halek smiles, and in that moment it strikes you as a rare thing: not his usual quiet expression of simple, polite acknowledgment, or the half-lazy, sardonic smirk he employs with friends—as if he's a little too sleepy for a full grin—but a genuine, unguarded smile of warmth and pleasure. For a moment, it makes him look ten years younger than he actually is. "I'm honored," he says, sweeping a small bow. "The Hero of Haven, making time in $her day to visit <i>me</i>?" You can't help but laugh. "Says the sol of the Reach, leader of an entire city of Hunters." "Not currently," Halek replies, his smile turning just a little more wolfish. "Not here in Haven. Right now, I'm just a humble Shepherd, just like any other." You snort, but somehow it seems fruitless to argue with him. Halek jerks his chin towards the atrium with a softer smile. "Shall we go?" <<include 'halek_head_out'>>

Halek smirks a little. "I didn't realize that your company came with strings attached." "<i>I</i> don't need anything from Paper Alley," you retort, "so my tagging along is a favor to you." "It's only a favor if I wouldn't be equally comfortable going by myself," Halek responds sardonically. Then his smirk widens a little. "...But I suppose <<if $huntercure is true>>I do owe you for the whole 'saving my people' thing, so I'll let you win this bout for now."<<else>>I did ask you first, so I'll let you win this bout for now."<</if>> <<include 'halek_head_out'>>

Halek shrugs again. "All right. See you later, then." <<include 'halekover'>>

Your course decided, the two of you set off towards the center of the city. <<page_break "Next" "halek_paper_alley">>

Paper Alley is the name for the narrow, haphazard avenue lined with Haven's oldest booksellers, print shops, quill-makers, and paperies. You and Halek forge your way through the crowds of Market Quarter, working towards your destination at a leisurely pace and making light conversation about the city and your explorations of it so far. All the while, you notice how people visibly turn and stare at Halek: not only does his lean, considerable height ensure that he towers over the rest of the crowd, but the telltale glint of his snowy hair is an exceptionally rare sight in Haven. After the expulsion of Hunters from the city following their last Uprising, only a handful of individuals are permitted to openly walk through the city streets—typically visiting diplomats or the rare smattering of vendors, merchants, and traders who fought tooth and nail for the privilege. All must obtain special permission from the Sun Court to pass through the city gates, and even then, they might be harassed by the Vice Guard unless they can provide the necessary proof and paperwork authorizing their presence in Haven. Halek's sun medallion glints carelessly against his chest, swinging gently with each long-legged step he takes, so no one comes up to accost him today. In fact, whatever hostility the rest of the city might have felt towards Hunters likely faded decades ago, except for a few hard-nosed conservatives who still remember the Uprisings. The stares that people level his way now trend more towards awe or amazement—like spotting an animal in the wild that everyone thought had long since gone extinct. If Halek notices any of this special attention, he gives no sign. He slouches at his ease, walking at a fluid, languid pace, the piercings in his ears flashing in the hard, glassy sunlight. At some point he even pulls out a stick of charch from his pocket and lights up while you walk, smoking indolently <<if $charch is true>>and extending it to you with a wordless, casual grace from time to time.<<else>>and generally strolling along with an unbothered air.<</if>> <<include "halektalk1">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("halek-lonely")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Is it lonely, being virtually the only Hunter in the city?"</div>' 'halek-lonely'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("halek-miss-reach")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Do you miss the Reach at all?"</div>' 'halek-miss-reach'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("halek-different")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"You seem different here. More relaxed, or..."</div>' 'halek-different'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("halek-naolin")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"How is Naolin?"</div>' 'halek-naolin'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("halek-moonsilk")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"How's Moonsilk?"</div>' 'halek-moonsilk'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You talk for a while more as you browse the shops of Paper Alley.</div>' 'halek-browsing'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Halek flicks you a look of mild surprise. "Not in the least," he drawls, breathing out a cloud of white, minty smoke. "If there aren't any Hunters around, no one knows me as a <i>sol</i>." The way he says it, with the low, melodic accent of the Hunter tongue, the word sounds oddly pleasing, almost satisfying and toothsome. "I can do whatever I want without worrying how it impacts my reputation, or my family's, and I don't have all of these… eyes on me." Then he gives an airy wave towards the staring passerby. "I mean, there <i>are</i> eyes, but they don't care about who I am beyond being some generic Hunter. I don't have any special responsibilities or expectations assigned to me. It's great." Then he rubs his jaw thoughtfully. "The only tough thing is making sure I don't get overworked. Being pretty much the only exorcist around puts me in very high demand with the other Shepherds. I can sometimes solve cases twice as fast as non-Hunters just by sniffing some demon out—no need for all of the extra footwork and investigation. But even then, at least I'm wanted for my <i>skills</i>, not just for my status or the happenstance of my birth." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I've heard other Hunters are beginning to sign up, just to follow your example."</div>' 'halek-hunters-joining'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Well... isn't being born with a Hunter's abilities still a happenstance of your birth?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68344'>><<setintelligence +1>><<sethalek -1>><</link>> <<if $hunterjoin is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"What about the Black Shield Hunters that followed you?"</div>' 'halek-black-shield'>><</link>><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

Halek pauses. "Well. You know what I mean." <<include 'halektalk1'>>

"Yes, once word got out that becoming a Shepherd was a way to circumvent the ban on Hunters in Haven—and that the <i>sol</i> of the Reach was one himself—a lot of people started clamoring to join up. It seems to go together, our exorcist skills and Shepherd work—but someone had to break the ice and prove it could be done first, I suppose." He shrugs. "I don't know. I think there was a viewpoint after the Expulsion that the rest of the world could hang after what it had done to us, and there was a kind of uncaring 'too bad, so sad, bet you wish you hadn't exiled us <i>now</i>' sentiment once the demons came back. An isolationist policy of 'we'll only look after our own and won't care if the rest of it burns,' you know? But now, suddenly it's fine to chip in again. Very fickle, the hearts of the people." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"For a leader of Hunters, you don't seem to like your own people very much."</div>' 'autogenerated_68345'>><<setcourage +1>><<setcharisma -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm not sure I can blame them. If someone had exiled my entire people from the capital, I'm not sure I would be chomping at the bit to risk my life for them, either."</div>' 'halek-cant-blame'>><<setcharisma +1>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Better late than never. With more Hunters joining our ranks, the Order and the world becomes a much safer place."</div>' 'autogenerated_68346'>><<setloyal +1>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Halek's lips twitch. "It's not that I don't <i>like</i> them," he says, "it's just that I know them very well, and knowing them has made me very cynical. I have to think about their moods and opinions all the time: every good ruler has to. And like a parent who constantly has to monitor his children—even when they throw a tantrum—sometimes I get a bit sick of them." <<include 'halektalk1'>>

Halek makes a sonorous sound of agreement. "Mm. I suppose so." <<include 'halektalk1'>>

Halek glances at you sidelong. "The problem is, I'm not sure our situation is all that different from that of any other Diminished. The Inquisitors still hunt Mages, and yet <i>you</i> joined. Hael, they drove Red and his people out of their home in Capra, and <i>they</i> still joined. And Blade was a Ket assassin working for the other side, and <i>he</i> still joined. And look at Tallys, what was done to her family. And even <i>she</i> joined. If all of you can lay aside your grudges to work towards the greater good, I don't see why my people had to wait so long to do the same. And <i>we're</i> the ones best primed to fight the Endarkened. We're literally born to do it. We should have been frothing at the mouth to do our gods-given duty. But instead, we're among the last." You pause for a moment. "That's... a pretty good point." Halek's lips twitch. "It's not that I don't love my people," he says, "but I know them very well, and knowing them has made me very cynical. I have to think about their moods and opinions all the time: every good ruler has to. And like a parent who constantly has to monitor his children—even when they're acting snotty—sometimes I get a bit sick of them." <<include "halektalk1">>

"Oh, them? I'd nearly forgotten them." He holds back a yawn. "I spend so much time trying to give them the slip that I hardly ever see them, most days." You sigh. "Didn't they come with you to protect you? You disappearing must give them conniptions." "They're used to it by now. And actually, I've taken them off bodyguard detail and commanded them to do whatever the Order needs them to do, so they're getting worked just as hard as me. They know they can't come with me on missions and whatnot, so they just resign themselves to doing as much as they can as Shepherds, by order of their dear old sol. Honestly, I think they prefer it that way: they get very nervous about displeasing me, and following me around always puts me at odds with them, so this way we just stay out of each other's way and we're all better off for it." "Naolin can't be happy to hear that you're gallivanting around unprotected." "It was his damn fault for saddling me with them in the first place. <i>I</i> wanted to leave them at home. He had to have known that as soon as I got out of earshot of Uth Baryd, I was going to be issuing different orders than the ones he gave them." He winks at you, smoking his charch. "And anyway, Naolin's not here right now. And he isn't ever going to find out... is he?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I don't know... I could always send him a letter myself, if I wanted..."</div>' 'halek-letter-threat'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'll keep your secrets, Prince, so long as you don't get reckless out there."</div>' 'halek-keep-secrets'>><<sethalek +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"It depends on how strong your bribery game is."</div>' 'halek-bribery'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I don't care what you do, so it's not like I'm going to go out of my way to interfere."</div>' 'autogenerated_68347'>><<setcharisma -3>><<setloyal -3>><<setcompassionate -1>><<sethalek -3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Halek laughs slightly. "A $woman after my own heart." <<include 'halektalk1'>>

Halek tips his head at you in a vague, querying gesture. "And why would you do that?" "Maybe I prefer him over you," you joke. Halek exhales through his nose, half a laugh, half a sigh. "Wouldn't be the first time," he comments dryly. <<include "halektalk1">>

Halek smiles. "It's a deal, <i><<c surname>></i>. But you know you don't have to worry about my wellbeing, right? I've been killing demons since I was a child. I'm not going anywhere." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You're my friend. Of course I'm going to worry."</div>' 'halek-friend-worry'>><<sethalek +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You're right. You're not a baby; you don't need people to fret after you."</div>' 'autogenerated_68348'>><<sethalek +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm not worried about <i>you</i>. Our reputation would take a massive hit if the sol of the Reach died under our watch."</div>' 'halek-reputation'>><<sethalek -10>><<setcompassionate -3>><<setcunning +3>><<setcharisma -1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"Exactly," Halek says in a satisfied voice. "But I do appreciate the sentiment. I just don't want you to trouble yourself over me. More important things to worry about." <<include 'halektalk1'>>

Halek smiles and glances at you sidelong. "Would you be surprised to hear that I've had few friends in my life? Allies, sure, and people who worried about me—that aplenty. But true friends... that's something a bit new for me." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"It was the same for me. You get used to it."</div>' 'halek-get-used-to-it'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You had to have had <i>some</i> friends."</div>' 'halek-some-friends'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"That isn't so hard to believe. You're not very approachable."</div>' 'halek-not-approachable'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Well, now you have me. And I'm not going anywhere."</div>' 'halek-now-you-have-me'>><<sethalek +3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"Hunters everywhere would swear vengeance on us," you comment. Halek grunts as he takes a long pull of his charch, flatly unimpressed. "Mm. Well, I knew what I was signing up for, so whatever happens to me, it's my responsibility alone." You shake your head. "Sadly, that's just not how the rest of the world would see it." He only shrugs and keeps walking. <<include "halektalk1">>

Halek snorts. "Blackmailing the sol of the Reach. It's a bold move, <<c firstname>>. What is it that you want?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"More of that cake you baked on St. Balthazar's Day."</div>' 'halek-cake-bribe'>><<sethalek +4>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Money."</div>' 'autogenerated_68349'>><</link>> <<if $courage >= 65>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"A kiss."</div>' 'halek-kiss-bribe'>><<setcourage +1>><</link>><</if>> <<if $courage < 65>><div class="inactive-item">"A kiss."</div><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You have to fill out my reports for a month."</div>' 'halek-reports-bribe'>><<sethalek -3>><<setloyal -1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Halek thinks on it for a moment. "Not worth it," he says definitively. "Go ahead and tell Naolin. He can't do anything to me, anyway." <<include 'halektalk1'>>

<<nobr>><<if $halek >= 70>> Halek pauses, then grabs your hand, lifts it to his lips, and kisses the back of it in a very perfunctory manner. "There," he says, calm as anything, dropping your hand pragmatically—but if you listen closely, you think you might hear a trace of amusement in his voice. "Silly thing to ask for, but there you have it. Now you can't tell on me to Naolin." <br><br> You look away to hide your surprise. "Wouldn't dream of it." <<else>> "No can do," he deadpans, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. "I am engaged man. I might be a lout, but I'm at least faithful." <br><br> You sigh theatrically. "Well, it was worth a try." <br><br> He makes a skeptical sound. "Was it?" <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "halektalk1">>

"Absolutely not," Halek says flatly, as if the prospect of doing more work has turned him entirely serious. "Not worth it. Tell him I'm climbing the rafters naked, for all I care. He can't do anything to me, anyway." You laugh. "I think you're more scared of paperwork than you are of your brother." "Absolutely I am," Halek says, sounding aggrieved. "Especially when it's Riel or Blade who's looking over it. They won't hesitate to tell me to do it over again, even if it will take me hours. It's like they don't even care I'm sol." You laugh even harder. "Isn't that what you wanted? To be treated like you were anyone else?" "Well, sure, but it's less appealing when it means actual consequences for me," Halek says, a tad sulkily. You're pretty sure he's just playing the part, though. <<include "halektalk1">>

"The one with marzipan roses? It's a deal," Halek says, clearly pleased. "I hadn't realized you enjoyed it that much." "Are you kidding? People were fighting over slices. I still have dreams about that cake." Halek looks down at the ground for a moment, but when he looks up, you see that he has the widest, most elated smile, one that makes his eyes crinkle and his face practically glow. "Fine, then," he says, his voice even enough. "A cake for your silence. But this little trick of yours will only work once, you know. Don't think you can just force me to keep on cooking for you." You smile to yourself. "<i>Sure</i>." <<include "halektalk1">>

Halek arches a brow at you. "You didn't have many friends before this?" You shake your head. "Not exactly. I was alone for a lot of the time before I joined the Shepherds." Halek makes a thoughtful humming sound. "With the crowds that dog you everywhere now, you could have fooled me." <<include "halektalk1">>

Halek shakes his head slowly. "Not really. Most kids were kept away from me—there weren't many deemed to be worthy of being companions to the sol. And the ones who were allowed near me were acutely aware of who I was, how much power I held over them, and how superior my status was. Most of them always had ulterior motives for getting close to me—favor for their families, futures to secure, that kind of thing. A lot of Moonsilks. Growing up, about the only person I trusted was Naolin, and even that could be strained. He's duty-bound to make me a good leader, and I'm hellbent on wriggling out of my duties every chance I get. It puts us at odds with each other most of the time." A trace of bitterness enters his voice at that, and he looks away. <<include "halektalk1">>

Halek actually laughs out loud. "That part's on purpose," he says, genuinely amused. "The more genial I act, the more people feel it's all right to ask things of me, and then it's bothersome. That's why poor Naolin always gets the brunt of things. He's <i>too</i> nice." <<include "halektalk1">>

Halek looks away, but his smile lingers. "You know, I wondered, back in the Reach, if you were putting on a bit of a front all that time. 'No person could be that <i>good</i>, can they?' I said to Naolin. But you keep on proving me wrong." He casually extends a large hand and pats you on the head. "Friends, then. For as long as you deign to put up with me." <<include "halektalk1">>

"No," Halek says, quite happily. "Don't get me wrong, the air is far cleaner in the Reach, but one does get sick of looking at the same mountains all of the time. And I miss being able to look in on my mother or Naolin, but—a man's got to spread his wings sometime." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Does that mean you'd never left the Reach before now?"</div>' 'halek-never-left'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You should appreciate your family more. Not all of us have one."</div>' 'halek-appreciate-family'>><<sethalek -10>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I thought the Reach was quite beautiful. I'd love to live there someday."</div>' 'halek-reach-beautiful'>><</link>> <<if $heritage is "Hunter">><<link '<div class="heritage-item">"My parents always wanted to see the Reach."</div>' 'halek-parents-reach'>><</link>><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

"How could I?" Halek asks drolly. "For all of my childhood, I was in training to become sol, and then by the time I was old enough to leave of my own accord, I was old enough to assume the throne. They rarely let me out of the city. I accompanied my father on trips to outlying lands and neighboring Hunter cities as a teenager, and I went off on my own for my rite of passage—the Airatr—for a winter, but that was to the Waste. Other than that, I've never stepped foot in another city that wasn't solely populated by Hunters." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You never tried to run away?"</div>' 'halek-try-running'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm still shocked they let you come here at all, if their hold on you has been so tight up until now."</div>' 'halek-shocked-allowed'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Halek's expression shutters. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you." You look away. "I would have killed to grow up with a sibling as close as you and Naolin. Or..." Your heart stutters briefly before kicking up again. "Or to have my mother alive and well enough to look in on." Halek is silent for a while. <<if $shepherdsknow is true>>He knows the story of your past, just as all of your inner circle does at this point.<</if>> "It's not that I don't love them," he says slowly. "But I've been with them <i>my entire life</i>, both as a child and as an adult. There comes a time when you need some separation, too. You love them better that way." You look at the ground, a bitter, coppery taste filling your mouth. "I'll take your word for it." An awkward silence falls between you for a long time before you decide to break it with another question. <<include "halektalk1">>

Halek arches his brows, genuinely surprised. "Really? I'd think most people find it desolate and lonely. What did you like about it?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"The solitude. It feels like you're far above the world and all its troubles, there."</div>' 'halek-reach-solitude'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"The climate. I love the cold and snow. It makes everything feel pristine."</div>' 'halek-reach-climate'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"The culture. The language, the food, the way of life... it was all so fascinating."</div>' 'halek-reach-culture'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"The people. The Hunter people have a depth and resilience that I find inspiring."</div>' 'halek-reach-people'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Halek snorts lightly. "Which makes it easy for us to bury our heads in the sand—or snow, as it were. But it <i>is</i> peaceful up there, I'll give you that. Prime napping country, and even the Endarkened avoid it. Aside from when it's all plague-ridden, it does feel very safe in Uth Baryd." You nod. "I love that. It seems the perfect place to retire." Halek's mouth twitches. "Well, if you ever want to take my place, I'd be happy to swap places with you. Or at least come back with me when I visit." <<include "halektalk1">>

"Hmm, it's rare to find someone who loves the North," Halek muses. "Most people go for sunshine and beaches. But I suppose the landscape <i>can</i> be nice. There are hundreds of famous paintings based around our mountains up there. I suppose I appreciate the beauty less when it's what I grew up with." <<include "halektalk1">>

Halek's mouth twitches. "I'm glad you thought so, though I have to disagree with you about the food—it's terribly monotonous once you've had enough of it, I think. But if you ever want to take my place, I'd be happy to swap places with you. Or at least come back with me when I visit." <<include "halektalk1">>

Halek actually smiles. "We are a hardy folk. Have to be, to face up to demons and survive the cold up there. But I'm surprised you understand us so well after so short a time in Uth Baryd." He shrugs lightly. "If you ever want to take my place up there, I'd be happy to swap places with you. Or at least come back with me when I visit." <<include "halektalk1">>

Halek cocks his head. "I know you said you were raised in Maj, but do you know if your parents came from somewhere before that? The name <<c surname>> isn't of any significance to me, but I'm not as familiar with the southern or central clans." "They were part of the diaspora that fled Haven after the Expulsion." "Hard to trace their lineages to any one likely place, then. Haven had a concentration of main clans from all over. Any chance you knew your mother's maiden name?" You shake your head: you were too young to consider that she'd had a different name before marrying your father at the time, and, well... now it's too late. Halek sees the look on your face and grimaces, looking away. "Well, it doesn't much matter," he says after a moment. "They were the leaders of Maj, which makes your clan a First Family in my book. If they had ever come to the Reach, we would have received them as equals and peers." "A First Family?" you echo. "What do you mean?" Halek shrugs. "It's a translated term from Uth: <i>orimiri</i> and <i>kohori</i>, First Families and Second Families. First Families are the clans who lead their respective region: generally the sols and chieftains are selected from those clans, so I guess they'd be sort of like the equivalent of royalty or high nobility, and they usually played a part in founding and settling their respective place. Second Families are also highborn, but they're usually attached to First Families in some way: cousin houses or historical allies, that sort of thing. Scions from Second Families usually go into service in the courts of First Families, serving as their Black Shield, their advisors and generals, their knights or ladies-in-waiting and court attendants... but they're still extremely powerful and well-bred, compared to the commonfolk. Anyway, my clan—among many others—are a First Family of the Reach and Uth Baryd. A founding clan, one of the ones eligible to lead and serve as high chieftain over the others. Moonsilk comes from a First Family in Jokhun, or Stone Mountain. And since your father was chieftain of the Hunters of Maj—that would make the <<c surname>>s a First Family, as well." He smiles at you a little. "I wouldn't go spreading that around, since you'll get a lot of pedants and nitwits arguing that First Families are a matter of <i>lineage</i> and <i>blood</i>, but it's true in my book, anyway." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Smile at him. "Thank you. It's nice to learn a bit more about my heritage."</div>' 'halek-heritage-thanks'>><<sethalek +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Look away as your throat closes up. For some reason, the idea makes you emotional.</div>' 'halek-heritage-emotional'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Laugh bitterly. "That's a nice fairytale, but it couldn't be the furthest thing from the truth. My parents were poor farmers, and Maj was no Hunter capital. It was the last stop on a dying road that wasn't even ours to begin with."</div>' 'halek-heritage-bitter'>><<sethalek -10>><<setcompassionate -3>><<setcharisma -3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Press for more details. "Would that make us equals, then?"</div>' 'halek-heritage-equals'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"I'm sorry you never got the chance to," Halek says, a bit awkwardly. "But feel free to ask me anytime you have questions." Then he looks away, clearing his throat almost a bit shyly, so you decide to change the subject. <<include "halektalk1">>

Halek's eyes widen slightly. "Oh no. Did I offend you?" You shake your head, pinching back the tears trying to climb up your throat. "Not at all. It's just..." You trail off, not knowing quite what to say, so Halek looks away and changes the subject until you get your emotions under control. <<include "halektalk1">>

Halek's face shutters. "I see," he says slowly. "Well, ignore me if it suits you. What do I know, anyway?" An awkward silence falls between you for a long time before you decide to break it with another question. <<include "halektalk1">>

Halek glances briefly at the white streak in your hair. "In a spiritual and conceptual sense, I would say so. But in a political sense—it's hard to say. You'd have to get the heads of other First Families to officially acknowledge you." "Are First Families always defined by ancestry and history, or are there other ways to attain their status?" "They can be elevated by other First Families, usually through a special council or vote," Halek answers idly. "There are tons of stories of famous heroes or generals or exorcists being rewarded in such a way, the same way a favored knight might be gifted lands and titles by their autarch or king. Interestingly, the reverse is also always true, where the legends about various champions always claim that they already came from a First Family, their stalwart squire or lieutenant or sidekick came from a Second, and so on and so forth—which I always thought was unlikely just by the sheer numbers. But I digress." You talk for a while more on the subject before the conversation turns to other things. <<include "halektalk1">>

Halek looks briefly chagrined. "…Did Naolin say something?" You chuckle. "He didn't have to. I think anyone in your position would have tried it, at least once." Halek runs a hand through his white hair. "I might have slipped my leash a few times as a youth. But I never got very far before my brother caught up to me and dragged me back. Once I squirreled myself into some remote monastery in the mountains and convinced the monks I was to live in total religious seclusion to 'commune with the gods,' just so they'd keep people off of my ass for a while. But Naolin still managed to find me and haul me home." He clucks his tongue in disapproval at the memory. "<i>And</i> it was pretty boring in there. I regretted it after a week." <<include "halektalk1">>

"I am, too," Halek says with a slight smile. "I had to play every card I'd been saving to get them to agree: the will of the gods, prophecies and omens, and even how—if I'm their so-called savior—wouldn't I know better than them, and wouldn't my will be immutable and infallible, and if they really believed in my importance, shouldn't they also trust in my decisions?" He laughs, the sound a little rueful. "I was a terrible bully about it, if I'm being honest. In the end, I think they thought a sojourn away from home would calm me down a little, make me pliable and tame once I came back. Sort of like how people think sending a bachelor off to have one last wild ride will sate him enough to make a docile, mature husband." "So you do plan on returning eventually?" Halek sobers. "Of course," he says, looking serious now. Is that a shade of resignation firming his mouth? "How could I do otherwise?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You're out. What are they going to do, drag their own chieftain back in chains?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68350'>><<set $halekharden += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"How long do you think you'll stay?"</div>' 'halek-stay-length'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You're right. It would be wrong to leave them rudderless for too long."</div>' 'autogenerated_68351'>><<sethalekharden -1>><<sethalek -3>><<setloyal +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I wish you could stay forever."</div>' 'autogenerated_68352'>><<sethalek +3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Halek smiles, a tinge bitterly, and shakes his head. "Not that easy," he murmurs. "I wish it was, though." <<include 'halektalk1'>>

Halek's smile vanishes. "I suppose you're right," he says tonelessly. <<include 'halektalk1'>>

Halek smiles at you, the expression both gentler and sadder than it has any right to be. "I do, too," he says quietly. But it seems he has nothing more to say on the matter. <<include 'halektalk1'>>

Halek shrugs. "Until I've helped put a dent in this demon problem, at least. The world's gone too long without the Hunters around to contribute. It needs our powers back in the mix, and I mean to kickstart that process before I go home. At the very least, I told the council I needed to help solve the Faceless Lord issue first, or more people were going to suffer just like we did." <<nobr>><<if (($part > 5 or $facelesslordsdead >= 5) and $encounteredblaphemel is true)>> <br><br> You look at him sidelong. "But... haven't we found all of the Faceless Lords?..." <br><br> Halek winks. "They don't need to know that. Yet." <<else>> <br><br> "That's a pretty nebulous goal," you comment neutrally. <br><br> Halek grins. "Precisely the point. I figure it buys me a year, at least." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "halektalk1">>

"More of a slouch?" Halek asks, a teasing smile playing around his mouth. "That's just my true nature finally having the freedom to emerge. When I'm in the Reach, I have to be all business. But at heart, I'm fantastically lazy, slovenly, and occasionally mutinous, when I have a mind for it." He points to his pierced ears for emphasis. "Naolin likes to call me a brute and a boar." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $intelligence >= 65 or $cunning >= 65 or $charisma >= 65>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Are you sure it's not just a front so no one will rely on you overmuch?"</div>' 'halek-front-question'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $intelligence < 65 and $cunning < 65 and $charisma < 65>><div class="inactive-item">"Are you sure it's not just a front so no one will rely on you overmuch?"</div><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"It doesn't seem to deter anyone, if that's what you want to happen. I've heard you still have tons of admirers."</div>' 'halek-admirers'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"But it seems like you're also happier that way."</div>' 'halek-happier'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Yes, I completely see what he means."</div>' 'autogenerated_68353'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Halek smiles. "Well, the next time you need someone to sniff out a demon for you, don't come crying to this boar," he says mildly, though it's clear from his expression that he's joking. <<include 'halektalk1'>>

"Faking being bad at leading is better than actually trying and letting people down, no?" you ask. Halek throws you a look of genuine, startled surprise. "...What are you, some kind of mind-reading demon?" You laugh at that. "You're a Hunter. You tell me." <<nobr>><<if $possessed is true>> "I do get a whiff of something scary from you from time to time," he answers mildly. "But maybe I'm just intimidated by your greatness." <<else>> "No, you usually smell better than you have any right to," Halek answers off-handedly. "Definitely not a demon. But very scary, nonetheless." <</if>><</nobr>> You notice that he doesn't answer your question, but decide to let it slide. <<include "halektalk1">>

"Comes with the territory of being a sol," Halek grunts. "I could be a total ape and there'd still be some devout fanatic somewhere just dying to have my babies. —Being tall doesn't hurt, either." He suppresses another yawn. "But I'll have you know that I'm behaving myself. I'm already scandalizing so many people back home just by being here that I'm not going to add any rumors of an affair or improper conduct to the pile. At least I can always pat myself on the back for that." <<include "halektalk1">>

"Of course I am," Halek says with a chuckle. "Why wouldn't I be? I'm on my own for the first time in my life, experiencing freedom and life in a new city. Haven's hot, and crowded, and smelly, but it's also full of so many sights and foods and stories. The Shepherds are a group of oddballs and maniacs, but they're also a friendly bunch—and life with them is never boring. And I don't have anyone hanging onto my every word and thought, expecting preordained greatness out of me: no elders yapping about my appearance, no brother to chase me down with yet another task to attend to, no fiancee whispering cryptic nonsense about our future babies. What is there to be unhappy about?" <<include "halektalk1">>

Halek laughs so abruptly that the smoke puffs out of his mouth with a short little huff. "Oh, he's... Naolin," he says, waving the hand holding his cigarette expressively. "Managing the Reach <i>extremely</i> well and absolutely refusing to accept any praise or acknowledgment for how well he's doing it. Doubtless he isn't giving himself any time to rest or do anything for himself. But honestly, I think he's a bit addicted to it, no matter how world-weary and overwrought he acts. He isn't begging me to come home, anyway." "What does he usually do, outside of work and annoying you?" "He likes to play music, compose poetry, go for long walks... he used to enjoy gardening, when we were younger. And hunting." "Does he have any love life or friends?" "Some friends, among the Black Shield and other First Families. As for romance—you'd have to ask him. We don't talk about things like that with each other." The casual way he looks up at the sky, though, tells you there's a little more to that story than he's letting on. But you decide to let it go. <<include "halektalk1">>

Halek puffs meditatively on his cigarette. "Haven't the foggiest." "You don't keep in touch?" "<<c firstname>>, I left the Reach to get <i>away</i> from her. She scares the living guts out of me. I'm certainly not going to let her know where I am, or write to her." He glances at you sidelong. "And I'm surprised you're asking, by the way. Considering what she did to you back then." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I ask because I like to keep tabs on my enemies."</div>' 'halek-moonsilk-enemies'>><<setcunning +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Why are you so afraid of her?"</div>' 'halek-moonsilk-afraid'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I feel sorry for you, having to marry someone like that."</div>' 'autogenerated_68354'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I feel sorry for both of you. For you, having to marry someone you dislike so much; and her, having to be married to someone who dislikes her so much."</div>' 'halek-moonsilk-pity-both'>><<setcompassionate +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Is there really no way to get out of the engagement?"</div>' 'halek-moonsilk-escape'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Halek shrugs, clearly uncomfortable with the topic now. "We all have our problems," he says dryly. <<include 'halektalk1'>>

Halek actually laughs. "A wise strategy, I suppose. Me, I opt for complete avoidance. I have no idea what she's up to now, but I suppose Naolin's keeping an eye on things. I don't think she could be getting up to any particular trouble. She's probably planning the wedding and thinking about how she's going to redesign the palace and all that." "You don't think she's out hunting demons and stalking prey barefoot in the snow?" you ask, smiling at the thought of pure-white Moonsilk participating in anything more strenuous than cutting up her own cooked steak. But Halek shakes his head, looking uncharacteristically serious. "No. She comes from a First Family, meaning her bloodline is pure, but her grace manifested in an unusual way. Doesn't seem like she's capable of sensing or killing demons like the rest of us can. But she is very good at healing other Hunters, sniffing out sickness and disease in them, that kind of thing. She was fairly instrumental when we were dealing with the plague: it's why we trusted her when she said that whole thing about Blade being sick." "You never mentioned this when we were back at the Reach," you say, surprised. "That would have given us better context for why you believed her so willingly." "Well, she's also a noble-born woman, so we weren't exactly going to dismiss her out-of-hand," he says lightly. "And it's something that her family tries to keep a secret from outsiders—the Hunters from her territory, Stone Mountain, believe she's some kind of healer-saint, a miracle-worker, that kind of thing. Heals the sick, cleanses the impure, et cetera, et cetera. Her family's fashioned a very neat story about how she's probably some goddess reborn on earth to be the wife of the sol, to stand at the side of the one destined to be savior of the Hunters, and my damned father—may he rest in peace—completely played into it. I don't think he ever believed a word of it, but the pieces just fit too well for him to say no. And they are <i>very</i> rich." "So <i>that's</i> why she acts so ethereal and otherworldly!" you exclaim. "She's playacting a part—acting the way she thinks a saint should act." "Yes, I suppose so. It's dreadfully annoying, though, especially when you have to play along with it or risk causing some major offense." "I never knew grace could be used to heal people," you muse. "Hunter powers are still a mystery to pretty much everyone else in the world." "It's not like magic or anything like that—and it only works on other Hunters who have grace themselves," Halek says. "There are a few examples of it having been done throughout our history, but not many where, as in Moonsilk's case, you could only do one thing but not the other. But as for the rest of it, yes, we deliberately keep the extent of our powers a secret from everyone else. Why? I have no idea. But we can do a lot of things beyond just killing demons." <<include "halektalk1">>

"Well, look at what she did to <i>you</i>," Halek says bluntly. "She sent you into that cave, knowing you were going in there under false pretenses, without batting an eye. Underneath that floaty, ethereal demeanor is someone who is willing to do anything to get what she wants, and feel no guilt over it afterwards. Frankly, she's terrifying. I've been engaged to her five years and I still have no idea how her mind works." "But she's so small and frail-looking," you retort. "It's not as if she can hurt you." "<<c firstname>>, I'm eventually going to have to share a house and a <i>bed</i> with that woman. She doesn't have to be stronger than me to make my life an absolute hell." <<include "halektalk1">>

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, I've made my feelings clear, and she accepts them, anyway," Halek says dryly. "This engagement could end in a heartbeat if she decided to refuse me—but she <i>wants</i> the marriage to go through, very badly. She's had plenty of chances to back out or terminate it of her own free will, but she won't. So if you want to pity someone, don't let it be her: she's not the one being forced into this." <<include "halektalk1">>

He gives you a dry look. "You don't think I haven't been trying for the last half-decade? Believe me, I've tried <i>everything</i>, from threats to making myself so thoroughly unappealing that no one in their right mind would want to marry me. It all just rolls off of her back, like water from a duck. She's relentless, and so are the elders. There isn't any way out of it that I can see." <<include "halektalk1">>

At some point, Halek makes a faint exclamation while you're trawling through a tiny bookshop; you glance over to find him holding a travelogue detailing obscure herbs and spices from around the Continent. "I've been looking for something like this," he murmurs, flipping through the well-illustrated book. <<nobr>><<if $part > 5>> "If I'd had something like this, that whole witch's bane fiasco never would have happened..." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Groan. "Oh, please, do not remind me of that..."</div>' 'ohpleasedonotremindme'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Nudge him. "Are you still beating yourself up over that? We know it was an accident."</div>' 'nudgehalek'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Shake your head. "I still can't believe you didn't know that something called <i>witch's bane</i> was harmful to Mages."</div>' 'halekwitchsbane'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <<else>> <<include "halekleafshappily">> <</if>><</nobr>>

"Everyone else is always quick to remind <i>me</i>," Halek mutters under his breath. <<include "halekleafshappily">>

"Everyone else is still beating me up over it, so why wouldn't I do it, too?" Halek mutters under his breath. <<include "halekleafshappily">>

"Like I said at the time, <i>Hunters don't call it that</i>," Halek replies in an aggrieved voice. "I've always known it as <i>sozarel</i>—winter sorrel. Much more innocuous name. I never imagined it would affect Mages specifically." You smile. "I'm just giving you a hard time." Halek gives a long-suffering sigh. "I know." <<include "halekleafshappily">>

He leafs happily through the book for a while, clearly engrossed. Watching him, you comment, "You really enjoy cooking, don't you?" Halek nods absently, his eyes still roaming the travelogue's pages. "I do. Growing up, I always regretted not being able to experience more of the outside world, not least because I got sick of eating the same thing all the time. Up in the Reach, our diet is pretty limited: it's hard to grow diverse things up there when it's so cold, and game and livestock numbers are managed carefully so that we can last through the winters that close off trade routes. So pretty much all of our dishes consist of the same handful of ingredients, just prepared in different ways. But even if the presentation is different, the taste is pretty much the same. Spice, spice, and more spice. Anything to warm the blood. I got so desperate for other kinds of meals that I fell into reading about them in books. That, naturally, progressed to cooking—and now I'm fascinated by how tastes and smells can transport you to entirely different places, times, and memories, just from a certain method of heating or seasoning." Then he glances up at you, as if conscious that he's been rattling on. "Do you like cooking?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I love it. I cook as much as I'm able to."</div>' 'autogenerated_68355'>><<sethalek +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I enjoy it, but I find that I rarely have as much time as I'd like for it."</div>' 'autogenerated_68356'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I like it, but I don't think I'm very good at it..."</div>' 'autogenerated_68357'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm not a big fan of it. I prefer a meal someone else makes for me any day."</div>' 'autogenerated_68358'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Do not let me into a kitchen. I'm an absolute disaster."</div>' 'autogenerated_68359'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Halek smiles, clearly pleased. "We'll have to cook together sometime. You're much more well-traveled than I am, so I'm sure I could learn a lot from you." <<include 'halekturnstotheshopkeeper'>>

Halek smiles. "You'll have to let me cook for you, then. I find it's the one thing I enjoy doing, no matter how tired I feel." <<include 'halekturnstotheshopkeeper'>>

Halek smiles. "I'm sure you're better than you think. You seem to be good at everything." <<include 'halekturnstotheshopkeeper'>>

Halek smiles. "You'll have to let me cook for you, then. It's the least I can do." <<include 'halekturnstotheshopkeeper'>>

Halek smiles. "That's all right. You're so good at everything else that it makes sense you'd have to be weak at <i>something</i>. And cooking's about the best thing to be bad at: then you have an excuse to let others cook for you." <<include 'halekturnstotheshopkeeper'>>

He turns to the shopkeeper, who's been pretending not to listen to your conversation while retooling a leather-bound book. "How much for this one?" The shopkeeper glances from the book up to Halek's face, then looks indifferently back down at her tools. "Nineteen deucalions." You feel your shoulders stiffen in affront. Nineteen deucalions for a simple soft-covered book, one that isn't even rare? That's highway robbery! Halek smiles and plinks the requisite gold onto the counter. "Sold." With a querying, lackadaisical glance at you, he exits the bookshop; you hurry after him down the narrow street, struggling to keep up with his long-legged stride. "Why are you so happy?" you ask him, feeling outraged despite yourself. "She completely overcharged you! It was practically daylight robbery!" Halek laughs. "I don't mind it. In fact, it's kind of nice to be in a place where someone overcharges me for things—or charges me at all." "<i>What</i>?" Halek sighs and tucks his book against his side as you walk together, continuing to ignore the looks and stares of the passerby. "I think I alluded to it back at the Reach, and probably a few times since then, but you know the whole deal surrounding me, right? The big prophecy surrounding my birth?" You frown. "You mean how you were predestined to be the sol of the Reach, even though you just happened to be born ahead of Naolin by a few minutes?" "Yes, but it's more than that." He sighs again. "The Hunters are a very superstitious lot, you see. We're always watching the skies for omens and signs—we think the gods are always trying to communicate with us through hidden messages and portents. The logic is that they're locked away somewhere in slumber and can't physically materialize on our plane anymore—so the only way they can relay things to us now is by sending us their dreams, which we think manifest as these signs we have to interpret. And we see the signs <i>everywhere</i>. A two-headed goat with a white head and a black head means that a kingdom is destined to split. A death on a night with the red star means that person was reincarnated as a demon. That kind of thing." He shakes his head. "The night Naolin and I were born, somehow the signs aligned in a very momentous way—according to our great sages and priests, anyway. I forget the details, but it was some combination of us being twins—which is very rare among the Hunters—the date of our birth, being born to new snows and a blue moon and a yellow moon, or something... Anyway. Somehow they got it into their heads that it all combined into a very special kind of meaning, and they felt compelled to make this big <i>prophecy</i>. One that said that I—the firstborn twin—was somehow destined to lead our people back to greatness; that I was ordained to be the future savior of our people. That made me... some kind of <i>holy</i>, to them, and they really believed it. They believed that I was born specifically to save the Hunter race, and that I should be treated as their blessed leader. They literally declared me a messiah. And I don't think everyone in our world believes it, but the ones who take such things seriously certainly do. They truly expect that I'm going to perform some miracle someday and somehow affect the future of all Hunterkind, though gods know how I'm supposed to make <i>that</i> happen." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"That's... pretty insane."</div>' 'thatsprettyinsanehalek'>><<set $halekharden += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Oh no. That must have been so much pressure on you when you were growing up."</div>' 'thatmusthavebeenpressure'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"<i>You</i>? Have they met you?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68360'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I sort of understand what you're going through. People seem to expect a lot from me, too..."</div>' 'autogenerated_68361'>><<sethalek +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"What about Naolin?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68362'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Well, how do you know it isn't true? Prophecies <i>have</i> been known to come true." </div>' 'howdoyouknowitsnottrue'>><<set $halekharden -=1>><<sethalek -3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"I know!" He grips his white hair in two fistfuls, clearly agitated. "And who knows, maybe if I'd grown up without this stupid prophecy hanging over me, I'd have turned out… you know, a hard-working, productive member of society. Maybe knowing who I was supposed to be had the opposite intended effect. But to think one mortal man could accomplish something so momentous, and to <i>tell</i> him that when he's growing up… To think that the moons or stars or the snow on the ground could indicate anything so complex as the gods' feelings on the matter… It's all just insane. I've told them that a thousand times, but they sort of just smile at me and tolerate it. I think they think it's a necessary part of my journey to greatness. Every hero starts out reluctant and doubtful, and then grows into the shoes he's been given. So no matter how much I rail against it or run away, they all think it's all just a part of the divine plan. It's absolutely maddening." <<include 'thenhelooksawayhalek'>>

Halek glances at you sympathetically. "I never really thought about it that way. Even the title the <i>Hero of Haven</i> seems like a heavy mantle to shrug into. And it's not as if you asked for that." You shrug noncommittally. "It can be a lot, and it makes me direly aware of the stakes and consequences of my choices, at times. But I can't imagine having that expectation on me even from early childhood. And at least there isn't an explicit prophecy about my future in the mix." Halek shakes his head. "It's not a fun position to be in, for either of us. To think that any one person could possess that much power, that much influence over the fate of so many people… Or to think that, even if such people really did exist, that the moons or stars or snow on the ground could indicate them and convey anything so complex as the gods' feelings on the matter… It's all just insane. I've told them that a thousand times, but they sort of just smile at me and tolerate it. I think they think it's a necessary part of my journey to greatness. Every hero starts out reluctant and doubtful, and then grows into the shoes he's been given. So no matter how much I rail against it or run away, they all think it's all just a part of the divine plan. It's absolutely maddening." <<include 'thenhelooksawayhalek'>>

Halek runs a hand through his white hair, clearly frustrated. "They think he's destined to help me bring about this amazing future, but that's almost just as bad. He's stuck having to help me, robbed of the chance to have his own life, but without any of the glory or praise: if he does something good in helping me, that's just expected of him, because it was his <i>duty</i>. He isn't allowed to have any of his own desires or ambitions: he just has to be welded to my hip for the rest of his life, waiting for his chance to <i>help</i>. So he resents me because he's stuck forcing me to do something I don't want to do, and I resent him because, well, he's forcing me to do something I don't want to do." "He's said so? That he resents you?" "No, of course not. He's never been anything but patient and supportive. But I don't see how he <i>can't</i> resent me for it, not even a little. I would. If I were born as the younger brother, doomed to watch my older twin have this amazing destiny and be praised as a messiah of our people without even lifting a finger, only for him to complain constantly about it and take it for granted, I'd probably beat the shit out of him. But he's a better person than I am." <<include 'thenhelooksawayhalek'>>

"I know!" He grips his white hair in two fistfuls, clearly agitated. <<include "halek-prophecy-insane">>

"It was." He sighs and runs a hand through his white hair. <<include "halek-prophecy-insane">>

Halek scowls. "I just don't believe a word of it," he says. <<include "halek-prophecy-insane">>

"To think one mortal man could accomplish something so momentous, and to <i>tell</i> him that when he's growing up... To think that the moons or stars or the snow on the ground could indicate anything so complex as the gods' feelings on the matter... It's all just insane. I've told them that a thousand times, but they sort of just smile at me and tolerate it. I think they think it's a necessary part of my journey to greatness. Every hero starts out reluctant and doubtful, and then grows into the shoes he's been given. So no matter how much I rail against it or run away, they all think it's all just a part of the divine plan. It's absolutely maddening." <<include "thenhelooksawayhalek">>

Then he looks away. "Anyway. All this to say that I didn't exactly have a normal upbringing. You'd think growing up as a pampered, revered celebrity among your people was great, what every little kid dreams of; but it really wasn't. The way people treated me wasn't <i>real</i>. They loved and respected the idea of me, the ones they'd formed in their heads based on some priest's words, not who I really was. Their kindness and adoration was based on a fantasy, not my own merit. And they never denied me anything. So when I encounter someone who can just... blithely overcharge me for something, because they don't see me as 'the sol and future savior of the Hunter race', but as 'just some guy'..." He shrugs. "I don't know. I guess it's sort of refreshing." You're quiet for a long time as you both process this, blindly navigating the haphazard turns of Paper Alley. Finally you say... <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm sorry that you have to endure all of that. It sounds truly awful."</div>' 'autogenerated_68363'>><<sethalek +1>><<setcharisma +1>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"So you like it when people treat you badly. Noted."</div>' 'autogenerated_68364'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I suppose I can see how it's unappealing, but a lot of us have to deal with much worse. It's really not that bad."</div>' 'autogenerated_68365'>><<sethalek -3>><<set $halekharden -= 1>><<setcompassionate -1>><<setcharisma -1>><<setcourage +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Halek gives you a slight smile. "Thanks for listening," he says quietly. "I didn't mean to monopolize the conversation, but it does feel nice to talk about it with someone who isn't a part of our culture. But talking about it out loud also makes me feel a little silly. I'm aware that what I'm complaining about is something that many people would still beg for." You shake your head. "That doesn't matter. It's your life: no one can tell you how to feel about it except yourself. And it <i>does</i> sound pretty horrible. <i>I</i> would hate to be you." He reaches over and ruffles your hair. "Thanks a lot," he says humorously, though his dark eyes glint with a gentler, more sincere gratitude. "Well, talking about it with you helps—and if you ever need an ear, I promise I'm a better listener than how I've come off today. But for now, let's change the subject, shall we? I'm getting sick of hearing myself whinge." So you oblige and shift the conversation to more casual, pleasant things, talking in a more light-hearted manner throughout the rest of your shopping trip in Paper Alley. You enjoy the sights together and even stop to enjoy a snack at one of the streetside food stalls. But you can't help but be acutely aware of the stares and mutters Halek elicits, wending his way through the crowds of Haven on your way back home. Even though the looks are ones of reverence and awe, not of hostility or disgust… somehow, something about them seems to make him look very alone. <<include 'halekover'>>

Halek gives you a slight smile. "I suppose that's one way of putting it," he says, faintly amused. "I just like people treating me honestly, that's all. <<nobr>><<if ($part > 5)>> Even that thing with Ayla—while upsetting at the time—was sort of nice, since I can't remember the last time I had an argument with someone who wasn't either scared witless of me or duty-bound to agree with the infallibility of my will. <</if>> So… sure. If you ever struggle to think of a way to cheer me up, you can… mistreat and insult me. That's sure to put a big smile on my face." <</nobr>> "Good to know that you're into that sort of thing," you tease, and you're rewarded with a genuine laugh. <<nobr>><<if (($compassionate >= 75) and ($halek >= 70))>> Then you reach over and wind your arm around his. <<else>> Then you lean over and bump his arm with your shoulder. <</if>><</nobr>>"Come on. Let's stop talking about this and enjoy the day. You're not in the Reach anymore, and no one knows about the prophecy but me. And I swear not to treat you differently because of it." Halek gifts you a grateful smile. "Thanks," he says. "And you're right—why dwell on something that doesn't matter here? I'm free, I'm here with you, and that's all that matters." <<nobr>><<if (($compassionate >= 75) and ($halek >= 70))>> You squeeze his arm reassuringly. <<else>> You smile at him reassuringly. <</if>><</nobr>> "Exactly." So you change the subject to more light-hearted matters, making pleasant conversation for the rest of your shopping trip in Paper Alley, enjoying the sights and even stopping to enjoy a snack at one of the streetside food stalls. But you can't help but be acutely aware of the stares and mutters Halek elicits, wending his way through the crowds of Haven on your way back home. Even though the looks are ones of reverence and awe, not of hostility or disgust… somehow, something about them seems to make him look very alone. <<include 'halekover'>>

"I mean, look at Tallys," you point out. "Her entire family was killed. Or look at Ayla, growing up in complete poverty and isolation. At least you wanted for nothing, even if it was under false pretenses. At least you were loved. I'd take that any day over the opposite." Halek is silent for a long, long time. Finally he says expressionlessly, something like weariness in his voice: "I suppose you're right. When I hear myself complain about it out loud, it does sound a bit ridiculous." He shakes his head, as if to clear it of a fog. "Anyway, I'm sorry for dominating the conversation. I think we've both had enough of my whining for one day, wouldn't you agree?" So he changes the subject to something else, and you make pleasant enough conversation for the rest of your shopping trip in Paper Alley. But something like an uneasy, unsettled feeling slips between the two of you, something you just can't quite shake off, and you're even more acutely aware of the stares and mutters Halek elicits as he wends his way through the crowds of Haven. Even though the looks are ones of reverence and awe, not of hostility or disgust… somehow, something about them seems to make him look very distant and alone. <<include 'halekover'>>

You decide to go looking for Halek, but he's nowhere to be found anywhere in the compound. You ask around, but all the guards at the gate can offer is that they saw him walking off northeast. One of the shopkeepers down the road, an old woman sweeping her doorstep with a ragged, twiggy broom, confirms the report and further supplies that she saw the tall Hunter heading down Tower Street. You frown to yourself, puzzled. Tower Street ends in a dead end, and you can't think of anything there that would be of interest to Halek: no notable bars, shops that would be relevant to him, or restaurants that you think he would be interested in. That road is mostly residential homes, tailoring or laundering businesses being run out of small houses, and… A church for the One-God. Following a hunch, you follow the road down to the church, an unobtrusive and rather humble-looking building that services the surrounding streets of Ashtown. There are a dozen others just like it scattered throughout the district; even in "Witchtown," there are still plenty of devout who require a place of refuge to pray to the One-God, listen to services from priests, priestesses, and augurs, and pitch in for various community events, including charity drives and free health clinics. <<nobr>><<if $belief is "one-god">> This particular church is not one that you've been to, but the rosy brown-brick facade and golden statue in the front—that of the faceless, benevolent One-God—offers you a sense of homecoming and welcome nonetheless. <<else>> You hesitate in front of the front gate, watching the trickle of daytime worshipers making their way in and out of the building. Could Halek have possibly gone in there? <</if>><</nobr>> To your left, you espy a huddle of Hunters—broad-shouldered, white-haired, tall enough to loom head and shoulders above the rest of the crowd and generally impossible to miss—gathered in an anxious cluster a little ways down from the church. They're certainly Shepherds—Hunters aren't allowed in the city, of course, unless they're Shepherd officers or have special authorization from the Autarchy—and you recognize one or two as <<nobr>><<if $hunterjoin is true>> Black Shield members who followed Halek here from the Reach. The others are recruits you don't know, though you've heard it said that many like them signed up after hearing that the sol prophesied to save their people had joined the Order. <<else>> recruits who signed up after hearing that the sol of the Reach had joined the Order. <</if>><</nobr>> They all fall silent at your approach, but from their previous furious whispers and the way their eyes dart around furtively, you can tell they're not happy about being here… and half-expect <i>you</i> to do something about it. "What's toward?" you ask, but you're instantly drowned out by the answering chorus of voices. "<<c rank>>—Syora here says she saw the sol—I mean <<c rank>> Prince—walking into this church, but that <i>can't</i> be true, Narthax—" "Unless it's Shepherd business, maybe he's only investigating something or doing research—" "But he's supposed to be off-duty—" "I keep <i>telling</i> you fools, it's none of our business what the sol does on his days off—" "—blasphemy, wouldn't we <i>have</i> to tell the elders about it if it were true?—" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Stop. I can't understand what's going on if you're all just talking at me."</div>' 'autogenerated_68366'>><<setcompassionate -1>><<setcourage +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Hold on, hold on. Go one at a time."</div>' 'autogenerated_68367'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Why don't you just <i>go inside</i> and find out for yourselves?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68368'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Abashed, the Hunters fall quiet for a moment, then attempt to give you the jumbled story in a more orderly way. You piece together enough to determine that they saw Halek walking into this church and want you to… see if that's true, or do something about it, or talk him out of it, or something. <i>They</i> can't go in because they're not on good enough terms with the sol… and none of them would be caught dead crossing the threshold of a "shrine to a false god," anyway. <<include 'halekinterlude2_next'>>

However, it doesn't do much good—they're too worked up—but you piece together enough to determine that they saw Halek walking into this church and want you to… see if that's true, or do something about it, or talk him out of it, or something. <i>They</i> can't go in because they're not on good enough terms with the sol… and none of them would be caught dead crossing the threshold of a "shrine to a false god," anyway. <<include 'halekinterlude2_next'>>

They all give you varying looks of scandal, offense, and disgust. One makes a surreptitious hand sign, touching three fingers to his brow, lips, and breast-bone—pagan veneration towards Narthax, god of light, truth, and justice. "I could <i>never</i> cross the threshold of that house of lies," a Hunter woman, the one named Syora, says with quiet vehemence. "That's a shrine to a false idol, a pretender god of mankind's own making. Narthax would strike me dead on the spot." From there, the indignant chatter starts up again. You piece together enough to determine that they saw Halek walking into this church and want you to… see if that's true, or do something about it, or talk him out of it, or something. <<include 'halekinterlude2_next'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if ($belief is "one-god")>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Defend your faith. "The One-God is no more false than your god is. At least when people pray to Xem, things happen. The old gods are always said to be cut off from us, or asleep, or gone somehow. Maybe Halek is simply exploring a different avenue of faith in their absence."</div>' 'autogenerated_68369'>><<setfaith +3>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($belief is "oldfaith")>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Express your shock alongside them. "I don't believe that Halek would turn to a religion that led the charge against our people and tried to eradicate our beliefs. He must see that the old gods obviously exist."</div>' 'autogenerated_68370'>><<setfaith +3>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Reassure them. "I'm sure there's a simple explanation for this. I'll go and find out what it is."</div>' 'autogenerated_68371'>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Rebuke them. "For $god's sake, leave the man <i>alone</i>. Can't he even pray or worship or do whatever he wants in peace? He left the Reach to get some modicum of freedom, and to get away from this kind of behavior!"</div>' 'autogenerated_68372'>><<sethalek +1>><<setcourage +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Try to avoid getting involved. "I just wanted to spend some time with Halek; I'm not sure that I want to get into the middle of all of this..."</div>' 'autogenerated_68373'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Look blank. "Uh..."</div>' 'autogenerated_68374'>><<setintelligence -1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

For a moment, there's only abrupt silence at your response; they clearly didn't know that you yourself believe in the One-God. Finally one of the Hunters, a young man named Samsin, says quietly, "You won't feel any discomfort about checking if it really is him, then. Normally we wouldn't dream of getting involved, but this is such unusual behavior for a sol that it would mean a lot to know that everything's all right…" <<include 'halekinterlude2_choices'>>

Your answer clearly satisfies them, judging by their approving expressions. "Could you go and see what's going on in there?" one of the Hunters, a young man named Samsin, asks quietly. "Normally we wouldn't dream of getting involved, but this is such unusual behavior that it would mean a lot to know that everything's all right…" <<include 'halekinterlude2_choices'>>

The relief in their expressions is palpable. "Thank you, <<c rank>>," a young man named Samsin, says quietly. "Normally we wouldn't dream of getting involved, but this is such unusual behavior that it would mean a lot to know that everything's all right…" <<include 'halekinterlude2_choices'>>

There's an abrupt silence as their faces all freeze into blank expressions of shock. A few of them look away, ashamed or humbled, before the young woman, Syora, rallies and says with a hint of defiance, "If the sol has become a worshiper of the One-God, that's something we <i>all</i> need to know. It isn't just about him, it's about the future of the Hunter people. If the elders think that makes him unfit to rule, if people start to think he's a blasphemer or gods-cursed or has turned away from Narthax… the prophecies…" She fumbles to a clumsy halt, blinking hard, before she finishes lamely, "It's something we have to know." "Please, <<c rank>>," another man, Samsin, interjects quietly. "It would settle our minds if you could see what's going on. We wouldn't involve ourselves if it wasn't important." <<include 'halekinterlude2_choices'>>

There's an awkward silence as they sense your clear hesitation and reluctance. Finally one of the Hunters, a young man named Samsin, says quietly, "Please, <<c rank>>. Normally we wouldn't dream of getting involved, but this is such unusual behavior for a sol that it would mean a lot to know that everything's all right…" <<include 'halekinterlude2_choices'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Go inside the church.</div>' 'autogenerated_68375'>><<sethalek +5>><<setreputation +1>><<set $halekstatus to "You've deepened your relationship with him.">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Refuse.</div>' 'autogenerated_68376'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Their faces brighten hopefully as you give in, nodding and turning on your heel. You pass into the tiny churchyard and through the open doors of the church, the anxious gazes of the watching Hunters pinned between your shoulder blades like an arrow. <<include 'halekinterlude2_church5'>>

Shaking your head, you tell the Hunters that you won't be involved in this—it has nothing to do with you. You can spend time with Halek some other day. The other Hunters look shocked by your refusal, but they remain quiet and only watch as you turn and head back in the direction of the compound, silently wishing Halek luck in dealing with the fallout of his actions… <<include 'halekover'>>

<<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "halekinterlude2_church">><</link>>

You find Halek slouched into one of the middle pews inside, his hands clasped loosely between his large bent knees as he contemplates the statue of the One-God dominating the altar at the far end of the church. You look around: the building is neither completely empty nor very crowded, about a quarter full, with various supplicants scattered around, sitting with their heads bent in similar silent contemplation or prayer. It looks like a service just wrapped up; a person wearing priest's robes stands near the altar, talking in soft, earnest tones with a haggard-looking couple, while others dressed in various vestments hurry to and fro, clearing away materials from the lectern, gathering ritual bowls and chimes, candles, and other such accouterments. Halek turns one languid eye towards you as you slip into the seat next to him, looking entirely unsurprised to find you here. "You just missed one interesting sermon," he murmurs in an undertone. "Very… impassioned. How'd you know I was here?" "Guards saw you walking in this direction," you reply. "A shopkeeper saw you turning onto this street, and…" In a hushed mutter, you tell him about the gang of anxious, nosy Hunters speculating about his presence just outside the church gates. Halek rolls his eyes. "Lords preserve us. Sorry you had to deal with that. Even when they become Shepherds, you can't exactly separate them from their roots. They're still, you know, Hunters, born and bred." You look at him sidelong. "What are you even doing here, anyway? I never knew you were a churchgoer." Halek shrugs expressively. "I'm not. Or, I wasn't. I was just curious. I asked Shery for some recommendations, then found myself wandering down here today. Thought I'd at least sit in and see what all the hullabaloo's about." You tilt your head at him. "And?" Halek rubs his chin thoughtfully. "And… it's compelling? I suppose?" You're both silent for a moment as you watch the haggard-looking couple shaking the priest's hands in turns, looking tearful. There's a hushed, expectant, comfortable curtain of silence hanging over the entire place, and you glance up, taking in tiled mosaics depicting various saints and holy figures interacting with a gold-white figure made of light. Halek, following your gaze, continues in a whisper, "Looks a lot like Narthax himself, doesn't it, back in our sanctum in the Reach? Kind of makes you wonder at the similarities." He trails off for a moment, then says at your glance, "Well, let's start here: I think there's <i>something</i> to this all. I don't think the world is just… randomness and chaos and things just happening by coincidence, and that's all there ever is, like some philosophers say. There's something that smacks of fate, or destiny, or order to the universe. I have to believe that; otherwise I think I'll go mad. The fact that I was born a few minutes ahead of Naolin, and that made me <i>sol</i> and him <i>sola</i>, and having that just be arbitrary, meaningless coincidence… To have my entire life arranged around a complete accident… or to not read any meaning into—I don't know—you and Blade swooping in to save the day right when the Reach was on the brink of death, <<nobr>><<if ($shepherdsknow is true) or ($part > 7)>> or you being born exactly poised to deal with the Faceless Lords as an adult… <</if>><</nobr>> I just don't believe that it all means nothing and is just borne of mere happenstance. There has to be some intelligence behind it all. My question is: what?" "Why can't it be the old gods, as your people have told you all along?" you ask him quietly. Halek shakes his head. "It very well could be them. But if that's true, then everything else they say about the gods is true. And that would mean those gods are either weak and flawed, or they're unspeakably, unforgivably cruel. And I'm not keen to worship gods like that." <<nobr>><<if $belief is "oldfaith">> Despite yourself, your breath leaves you in a kind of hiss as you wince. You're not superstitious, but to denounce the gods so baldly is… disconcerting. <<else>> You lift your brows. You're not exactly a worshiper of the pagan faith, but to openly denounce the gods so baldly is still… uncommon. <</if>><</nobr>> Halek shrugs again, glancing at you. "Think about it. They say I'm destined to lead my people to salvation, $firstname. But what am I saving them <i>from</i>? The Endarkened? The Autarchy? That's what most would think, right?" He shakes his snowy head. "But if you break down the problems facing the Hunters, it goes so far beyond the Norm armies that it's not even funny. <i>We're dying out</i>, $halfname. We're the shortest-lived race out of all the man-shaped Children of Light: we die around fifty or sixty. That already gives us a limited time to couple and raise families. <i>Then</i> you factor in the fact that Hunter powers and grace only pass down to children with two full-blooded Hunter parents, further whittling things down. And if you think that actually sounds simple enough, well, how about the fact that we fly into an uncontrollable, berserker blood-rage around Endarkened, who have come back in full-force, meaning that what few pure-blooded Hunters there are often get killed in the line of duty before they even get the chance to make kids—sometimes not even of their own will?" His voice is light, almost as if he wants to laugh at the absurdity of the situation, but his fixed gray eyes are dark and dead serious. "We're fucked. Our people as they are—our particular racial gifts, I should say—will probably die out entirely within a dozen generations. And according to our priests, it's the gods, particularly Narthax, who <i>made</i> us that way. So either they didn't think that far ahead—meaning they're foolish—or they're cruel, viewing us as nothing more than disposable tools. If they really exist, I think I'd resent them far more than I do the Autarch. I know that's heretical, but…" He shrugs. "If they have the wherewithal to do anything about it, I'd be interested to see what happens." Your heart is pounding quite quickly, despite yourself. You think about debating the theology of it all with him, or expressing sympathy for his people's plight and the position he finds himself in, but there's a shuffling sound behind you as someone gets up to leave their pew, causing you both to look around. When you're able to speak again, you have to gather your thoughts. <<include "halekinterlude2_church_cont">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("oldfaith_concern") and ($belief is "oldfaith")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"Please, don't talk that way. Even if you don't believe in them, there are a lot of stories about mortals who have blasphemed against the gods and had misfortune fall on them."</div>' 'oldfaith_concern'>><<setfaith +1>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("oldfaith_belief") and ($belief is "oldfaith")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"I'm sorry you feel that way. But whatever their reasoning, I do believe that the gods exist. There's too much that can't be explained otherwise."</div>' 'oldfaith_belief'>><<setfaith +3>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("oldfaith_trust") and ($belief is "oldfaith")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"You have the right to feel that way. But I believe that the gods not only exist, but they have a grand design behind all of this. We may not know what it is, and it may seem cruel on the surface, but they mean the best for us somehow. There's a reason for it all. All we can do is trust in that and do the best we can to allow their will to unfold."</div>' 'oldfaith_trust'>><<setfaith +5>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("hunter_crisis")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"I knew things were bad, but I didn't know the full extent of it."</div>' 'hunter_crisis'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("moonsilk_marriage")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"I finally see why it's so vitally important that you marry Moonsilk now."</div>' 'moonsilk_marriage'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("reason_unknown")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"Maybe there's a reason for all of this that we just can't see yet."</div>' 'reason_unknown'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("fix_it")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"There has to be a way to fix it all. I don't believe an entire race of people could go extinct, just like that."</div>' 'fix_it'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("hunter_raised") and ($heritage is "Hunter")>><<link '<div class="heritage-item">"I was raised by Hunters, and I never knew about most of these problems."</div>' 'hunter_raised'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Redirect the conversation to the church. "So if the old gods are either monsters or have forsaken us, you thought you'd explore the other side of things?"</div>' 'halekinterlude2_church_cont2'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

The gods love their children, but they are also proud and capricious. Halek glances at you, half-amused. "We'll see," he says simply—almost like it's a challenge. "According to the lore, they're asleep at the moment, or otherwise have bigger things to worry about, so I'm not too worried." <<include "halekinterlude2_church_cont">>

Where did the Endarkened come from? Tapyt certainly seems to exist, so why wouldn't the other gods? And there are so many stories—including from the Elves, some of whom are old enough to <i>have been there</i>—about mortal interactions with the gods, and even of a time when they walked on your plane freely. There's too much evidence for their existence to be in question. Halek glances at you, half-amused. "But you don't deny that they're cruel. Ah, why would you? You're their instrument as much as I am." <<include "halekinterlude2_church_cont">>

Halek sighs heavily. "You would say that," he says, half to himself. "They certainly seem to have a plan for <i>you</i>. As for the rest… we'll see." <<include "halekinterlude2_church_cont">>

He sighs heavily. "As usual, it's not something the Hunters are exactly keen on advertising. Our enemies would treat us quite differently if they were aware of just how big of a crisis we've been having. Hael, most Hunters I know either haven't realized the full extent of the issue, or just try not to think about it. It's something that's left for the scholars, priests, and political leaders to figure out." "But that's why they look to you with such… hope," you say slowly, piecing it together. "Because they think you'll have all the answers to this. That you can save them." He spreads his hands, indicating the church you're now sitting in. "Exactly—all because of that stupid prophecy. And do I look like someone who has the answers?" <<include "halekinterlude2_church_cont">>

It goes beyond just a political arranged marriage. If the Hunter birthrate issue is such a problem, Halek setting an example as sol as well as ensuring the continuation of his own line would be of utmost importance, at least to his people, the elders, and everyone who looks to him as their savior and beacon of hope… And the fact that he's been delaying it so much would be that much more stressful for all involved. Halek grimaces and pats his pockets like he's longing for a cigarette. <<include "halekinterlude2_church_cont">>

Halek's mouth quirks in an ironic smile. "That's what the priests back home always say, before they spend weeks watching the skies for signs that will explain it all. Regardless, even if there <i>was</i> a reason for it, that doesn't deny its inherent cruelty. If the gods do exist and they did make us, they had the power to make us literally any other way and still chose not to. Why? I can't think of any reason that doesn't treat us as expendable goods." <<include "halekinterlude2_church_cont">>

Halek shrugs, almost hopelessly. "If there is, I haven't seen the solution yet," he drawls. "And, look—it's not <i>our race</i> that's the issue: there are still going to be Hunters and Hunter-blooded people. It's just that they won't be able to use their grace. Which is bad news for our kind <i>and</i> the world, unless demons magically disappear forever." <<include "halekinterlude2_church_cont">>

"I mean, maybe I knew about some of it individually," you admit, "but never put together in a picture like the one you just painted." "You were a kid," Halek says slowly. "I doubt your parents would have been keen to impress upon you the slow extinguishing of our people as it takes place across the generations. Maybe they would have <i>never</i> told you. Communities like Maj—full of shell-shocked, displaced people who are just focused on surviving and can't think anymore about the culture and way of life that got them expelled in the first place—don't tend to be gung-ho and proud about maintaining our traditions and identity. I'm sure they would have just rather forgotten about it. And there were bigger things to worry about." <<include "halekinterlude2_church_cont">>

Halek nods. "Why not? From an appeal standpoint, the One-God is <i>actually</i> said to be merciful, compassionate, and unconditionally-loving… something the old gods have never claimed to be, even to their most devout. Which would I rather have: a god that goes, 'Fuck off and deal with it yourselves,' or one that is canonized to be fair and kind?" He shrugs. "And then from an evidential standpoint… well. Just take a look at the world around us. The Norms worshiped the One-God first, and they're now the dominant world power and have been rewarded with everything they were promised. The followers of the old gods are Diminished—literally—and have gained nothing through their faith but abandonment and suffering. The old gods, if they ever existed, sure aren't around to defend or help them now. So yes, I thought it at least worthwhile to see what the other side had to say." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"But the One-God was responsible for the Castigation. How is that fair and kind?"</div>' 'halekinterlude2_castigation'>><</link>> <<if ($faith is "one-god")>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"That's pretty much how I always saw things. That's why I'm a follower of the faith myself."</div>' 'halekinterlude2_same_faith'>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($faith is "one-god")>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I had a different way of coming to the same conclusion, but I'm glad you're open to exploring our faith."</div>' 'halekinterlude2_different_path'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Do you think you'll keep coming back?"</div>' 'halekinterlude2_return'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"Well, I'm no expert, having only attended one service," Halek says with a hint of sardonicism, "but from what I can tell, there are two main schools of thought behind it. One is that the Castigation was a natural, albeit turbulent and upsetting, re-balancing of things. All throughout our world's history, the Norms were mistreated, exiled, bullied, or outright abused for their lack of powers. To them, the One-God merely looked down at the world and saw the injustice in how they were being treated, in turn giving them the power to cast off their yokes. To them, that <i>was</i> fair and kind: otherwise they might have stayed crushed under the bootheels of the Gifted for the rest of time. And the story's not over yet. Maybe this momentary upset is only necessary for some larger plot we haven't seen the end of: one that leads to a better world for us all." <<nobr>><<if $intelligence >= 55>> <br><br> "Couldn't you say the same of the old gods and the dilemma the Hunters are in now?" you ask shrewdly. <br><br> Halek touches his temple in a slight salute. "Touché. But I'm just relaying what I've heard, not what I believe." <</if>><</nobr>> He shrugs lightly. "The other idea, which is the one that Shery believes in, is that the One-God never wanted the Castigation to happen in the first place; that it's the Autarch's forces misusing the One-God's name to commit an injustice, but that this is the result of mankind's mistakes and a corruption of the One-God's will, not a reflection of the One-God's true nature itself. Followers of this school believe that you can separate the Autarchy's traditional church—which, like any mortal creation, is prone to flaws and agendas—and the actual god behind and above it all. You can have a relationship with one and not the other. Of course, churches that teach this belief system are considered radical, politically-unfavorable, and are a hot-button topic between followers themselves. None of the Hierophants, Inquisitors, or any other institutionalized religious power espouses it." <<include "halekinterlude2_final">>

Halek nods. "Honestly, I can see it. It was partly because of you that I was so curious to see what this was all about." <<include "halekinterlude2_final">>

Halek shrugs. "Dunno. I'm not generally a very religious sort, so it's doubtful I'll make a habit of it. It was more of a spur-of-the-moment whim than anything." <<include "halekinterlude2_final">>

You're both silent for a while, though with Halek, silence is always a peaceable, companionable, non-demanding thing. The priest, passing you on their way out the door, catches your eye and nods equably; if they're surprised to find a Hunter and a Mage sitting in their church, they make no comment on it. After another beat, Halek says quietly, "Maybe it's not even one or the other. They say mortal worship, devotion, faith, and belief strengthens a god's power, feeds it, the same way pain and suffering and violence and chaos bolster Tapyt's. When the old gods were forced to retreat, withdrawing into slumber after the Dawn Wars, belief in them waned, and their power further dwindled. But maybe something had to grow in their absence. All of that belief had to go <i>somewhere</i>. Maybe it literally made the One-God—a new god—to take the place of the fallen pantheon. Maybe the force of the burgeoning Norm population's worship created their deity, rather than the other way around." "So maybe both exist. Maybe it's a cycle… One generation of gods rises, creates something, fades away, and another takes their place. If that's true, then the One-God would be the one to worship, right? It's the new one, the current one. But then if humans created that god, do we need to worship it at all? Should we worship ourselves, instead? Since <i>we're</i> technically the progenitors, the ones with the originating power? But then what made us?…" He lapses into rueful silence, then laughs, just a slight huff of breath, as he glances sidelong at you. "You can see why I don't talk much. Once it all gets uncorked, you can really see the existential dread I've got swirling in my head at all times." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm more impressed than anything. I had no idea you thought about any of this stuff."</div>' 'autogenerated_68377'>><<sethalek +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I like it. Philosopher, warrior, culinary artist... Is there anything you <i>can't</i> do?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68378'>><<sethalek +2>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I just came to hang out, man. I was not expecting... all of this."</div>' 'autogenerated_68379'>><<sethalek -5>><<setintelligence -5>><<setcharisma -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"It all sounds like nonsense. Keep it to yourself next time."</div>' 'autogenerated_68380'>><<sethalek -3>><<setcharisma -5>><<setintelligence -1>><<setcompassionate -2>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I mean, I'm trying to keep track of it, but this is all a bit heady for me."</div>' 'autogenerated_68381'>><<setintelligence -2>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Yeah... Unrelated, but did you happen to have any drinks before coming here? Ingest any madfern?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68382'>><<sethalek +1>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> <<if ($faith is not "one-god") and ($faith is not "oldfaith")>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"There's always the third option: that none of them, One-God or old gods, exist at all, and <i>both</i> are figments of the imagination."</div>' 'autogenerated_68383'>><<setfaith -10>><</link>><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

"I try not to," Halek says with mock-cheer. "Trust me, I really rather wouldn't." <<include 'halekinterlude2_hunters'>>

"Horrible singer," Halek says with mock-cheer. "And don't expect me to be writing you any poems anytime soon." "Aw, but I'd frame it and everything." "Sorry." <<include 'halekinterlude2_hunters'>>

"Sorry," Halek says with genuine apology. "I don't mean to unload it all on you. It's just not anything I could ever tell… well, anyone. Not my parents, not Naolin, not any of the people back home, really." Eyeing your expression, he adds, "I'll pick Red's brain next time, or something." <<include 'halekinterlude2_hunters'>>

Halek lets out a short bark of laughter. "I know. Sorry." <<include 'halekinterlude2_hunters'>>

Halek smiles slightly. "I know. Sorry." <<include 'halekinterlude2_hunters'>>

Halek lets out a short bark of laughter. "I wish. These are my <i>sober</i> thoughts; how bad is that?" <<include 'halekinterlude2_hunters'>>

Halek gives an unhappy shrug. "I know. But like I said, living in that world isn't quite comfortable for me, personally. It makes the existential dread even worse." <<include 'halekinterlude2_hunters'>>

"What are you going to say to the Hunters outside?" you ask him. "They seem pretty upset about the idea you could even be <i>entertaining</i> turning your back on Narthax and the old faith." "Joke's on them," Halek intones in a drawl. "I've been a non-believer since I was a kid. It's the idea that I might go to <i>the other side</i>—which represents everything they hate and resent, the very thing that made them rebel and get exiled from Haven in the first place—that they're nervous about. I suppose if I don't give them a satisfactory answer of why I'm here, they might write back home to the elders with their concerns. Worst-case scenario, I'm called back home to make sure I'm not being corrupted or brainwashed by the outside world. Best-case scenario, they decide I'm unfit to be sol and depose me." He glances at you curiously. "Any ideas on how I should handle this?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Just tell them the truth: you're only exploring, but haven't made any hard decisions yet. They'll just have to deal with it."</div>' 'autogenerated_68384'>><<setcourage +1>><<set $halekharden += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Tell a white lie to set their minds at ease. You were here on Shepherd business, or to get some ideas for a gift for a friend, or something. That'll get them off your back."</div>' 'autogenerated_68385'>><<set $halekharden -= 2>><<setcunning +1>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Give them a dressing-down. It isn't any of their damn business, and if they truly respect you as leader and sol, they need to respect your autonomy and leave you the hell alone."</div>' 'autogenerated_68386'>><<sethalek -1>><<set $halekharden += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"To Hael with them: you don't owe them any explanations. Let's slip out the back and do something fun instead of wasting any time allaying their imaginary fears."</div>' 'autogenerated_68387'>><<sethalek +5>><<set $halekharden += 2>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Want me to go out there and say you weren't in here, after all? You can slip out the back entrance while they're distracted."</div>' 'autogenerated_68388'>><<set $halekharden -= 1>><<sethalek +2>><<setcunning +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Halek grimaces, looking extremely loath to follow through on that particular plan of action. "How troublesome," he mutters. "There'll be so much squawking about it…" Then he shrugs wearily. "Still, I suppose you're right that that's the best thing to do." Heaving a sigh, he unfolds himself and straightens to his full—intimidating—height, squaring his shoulders as he moves to the entrance of the church… but from your vantage point behind him, it feels as if a weight remains pressing down on him. One that even the One-God couldn't help alleviate. <<include 'halekover'>>

Halek nods slowly, his eyes heavy-lidded. "How wearisome. Still, I suppose you're right that that's the smartest thing to do." Heaving a sigh, he unfolds himself and straightens to his full—intimidating—height, squaring his shoulders as he moves to the entrance of the church… but from your vantage point behind him, it feels as if a weight remains pressing down on him. One that even the One-God couldn't help alleviate. <<include 'halekover'>>

Halek looks impossibly weary. "What? You want me to yell at them? But then I'll have to work myself up and…" He sighs at your arched brow. "…Fine. I'll put on my 'angry sol' mask and tell them off. That should buy us a week or two of peace." He unfolds himself and straightens to his full—intimidating—height, squaring his shoulders as he moves to the entrance of the church… but from your vantage point behind him, it feels as if a weight remains pressing down on him. One that even the One-God couldn't help alleviate. <<include 'halekover'>>

Halek's eyes practically light up with interest. "Really? …Huh. Interesting proposal." He gives you a half-childish smile. "Shall we go to a tavern? There's a place that serves a bread and cheese board of morsels from around the Continent, and I owe you for all of this tedious religious hassle." You take his extended hand with pleasure. <<nobr>><<if $attractedto is not "women">> His fingers are long, tapered, rough with callouses, and surprisingly warm. <</if>><</nobr>> "It's a deal." Snickering together like school kids, you slip out of the church through the other entrance and take off down the street before anyone else can notice you. <<include 'halekover'>>

Halek's eyes practically light up with relief and excitement. "You would do that?" You smile. "Of course. It'll mean convincing them that they were mistaken when they saw you coming in here, but they'll be too scared of me and you to ask any further. They'll probably be relieved." "Brilliant," Halek says, practically leaping to his feet. "And once you lose them, go right at the end of the street and meet me in front of <i>The Plucked Gryphon.</i> I owe you a drink for all of this bullshit." He claps your shoulder briefly, genuine gratitude and quiet warmth in his gaze. "…Thanks, <<c firstname>>." You roll your eyes, "Get going before one of them decides to come in and see for themselves. I'll meet you around the corner." Grinning like a schoolboy, he nods and slips away so deftly one would question that he was ever there to begin with. You suppose he's gotten used to escape plans and running away. <<include 'halekover'>>

<<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "dayoff">><<set $halektime += 1>><</link>>

<<audio ":playing" fadeoverto 5 0>> <<if $lavinethate is true>> However, you can't find Lavinet no matter how much you search, so you have to give up. <br><br> <<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "dayoff">><<set $dayoff -= 1>><</link>> <<elseif $lavinettime is 0>> <<include "lavinetinterlude1">> <<elseif $lavinettime is 1>> <<include "lavinetinterlude2">> <<else>> [Sorry, this section is INCOMPLETE.] <br><br> <<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "dayoff">><<set $dayoff -= 1>><</link>> <</if>>

<<if ($prihinedead is true) or ($bothdead is true)>> <<include "whoopslavinethatesyou">> <<else>> <<include "regularlavinetintro">> <</if>>

<<nobr>><<set $lavinethate to true>> <<set $lavinet to 10>> <<set $lavinetstatus to "She hates you for letting her cousin die.">><</nobr>> You ask around and hear from other recruits that Lavinet is most likely in the practice fields, rehearsing cavalry maneuvers and horseback riding as usual. Ever since she's joined the Order, she's hurled herself into as much training and practice as she can fit in: perhaps she's conscious of peoples' assumptions about her being a lazy, pampered noble and is determined to defy them. Or perhaps her discipline is simply just a part of who she is. You find her in one of the grassy enclosures located next to the compound, giving her horse a brushing before presumably allowing him to retire to his stable for the afternoon. At your greeting, Lavinet glances up briefly, and there's no mistaking the near-imperceptible tightening of displeasure at the corners of her mouth before she turns back to her task. "<<c firstname>>," she says by simple greeting, and her voice is cool and courteous. She doesn't stop to look at you as she continues brushing loose hair from her stallion's neck. You're puzzled by this sudden lack of warmth. "Is something wrong?" Still, Lavinet doesn't look at you. She sighs, bending to pick up a soft rag drifting in a bucket of soapy water, and says stiffly, "There's something I should confess to you." Her tone and body language sends a pinprick of dread through your chest. "What is it?" Lavinet pauses, wringing out the rag hard enough that it looks like it hurts. "I know you let my cousin die," she says quietly. The world narrows to a single dark point. <<include "lavinetshatred">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("lavinet_found_out")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"How did you find out?"</div>' 'lavinet_found_out'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You have to let me explain..."</div>' 'autogenerated_68389'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"She was married. My contract only covered her safety up until she was delivered to her husband."</div>' 'autogenerated_68390'>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setcunning +3>><<set $lavinet to 0>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"It's true. But what was I supposed to do? Risk my life for someone who did nothing but mistreat me?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68391'>><<set $lavinet to 0>><<setcompassionate -8>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"Explain what?" Lavinet asks, her tone unusually harsh and strident. <<nobr>><<if ($runfromdemon is true)>> "That you abandoned your duty and fled the church out of cowardice, leaving my defenseless cousin and a small boy to die?" <<elseif ($runtowardsdemon is true)>> "That you stood by and watched as my cousin—your sworn charge—was cut down on her bridal altar by a demon? That you did nothing as she bled out in her wedding dress, then went on to become a great hero, a defender of the public from the demonic threat? How convenient that you were able to conceal your failure and go on living as if it had never happened." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'lavinetshatred2'>>

"Oh, <i>delivered</i>," Lavinet says with a tinkling, venomous laugh. "Yes, you certainly shepherded her towards her fate, as if she were some prize chattel. But if all you care about is the letter of your contract and not the life of a human being—whom you had the power to save—I wonder how you ever went on to become such a beloved defender of the public." <<include 'lavinetshatred2'>>

Lavinet actually laughs, a harsh, bitter sound. "Yes, in fact, for that was what you were hired and paid to do," she says. "Personal feelings have nothing to do with it: she was a human being, and you were sworn to protect her. The contract did not say 'only if you like her,' or 'only if you feel like it.' You vowed to defend her with your life, and instead <<nobr>><<if ($ runfromdemon is true)>> you ran and abandoned her the one time she actually needed you." <<else>> you stood by and watched her bleed out on her wedding altar." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'lavinetshatred2'>>

"She was my cousin," Lavinet says, finally lifting her eyes to yours—and hers are hard and flat with ruthless contempt. "You don't think her father made inquiries into the nature of her death when she was killed? Wondered where the bodyguard he had hired specifically to protect her had gone? You're only lucky that they haven't received word in Brunen that the famed 'Hero of Haven' is the very same mercenary '<<c firstname>> <<c surname>>' he hired at the horse fair in Kinley. But the moment you came to Lockwood and introduced yourself, I knew." <<include "lavinetshatred">>

You feel almost stupefied in the face of her complete transformation. Gone is the sleek, gracious aristocrat; here is the raw presentation of a young woman who's made her loathing for you very clear. "You knew about this the entire time we were in Lockwood, but you never said anything." Lavinet almost scoffs. "How could I? You were our only hope, part of a last-ditch effort to summon aid for a problem I couldn't possibly pretend to solve on my own. So, yes, like any sensible courtier, I held my cards close and kept things amiable: if I let my personal grudges get in the way, Lockwood would have suffered." You shake your head. "But why now? Why not tell the truth after we were done with the mission?" The truth strikes you almost as soon as you finish saying it. If she'd offended you or cut off your relationship beforehand, she likely never would have been admitted into the Shepherds. But now that she's been officially inducted… "You used me," you breathe, almost dizzy with the realization that every smile, every conversation, every mannerism has been ruthlessly calculated and dissembled since the moment you met. She's been deceiving you this entire time. "It's no less than you deserve," Lavinet replies, her tone chilly. She turns back to her horse. "And now that you know the truth, I will say this: I have no desire to seek vengeance on you, $firstname. Whatever reckoning you'll face for what you did to my cousin will not come from me. And I will be perfectly civil to you, courteous, even, and no one need ever suspect that our relationship is anything but cordial. The Order deserves that much, and we can cooperate perfectly well in order to conduct our work. If you don't believe me, just look at how I've behaved thus far: I am perfectly capable of resuming the mask of friendliness without you or anyone ever knowing the wiser." She runs a comb through her horse's mane; he eyes you sideways over her shoulder, as if sensing that you're receiving a tongue-lashing and not envying you for it. "But neither do I have any desire to spend time with you outside of our work. We are not, and will never be, friends. If you can accept those terms, we need not speak of this ever again." It takes you a long moment to recover your senses. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Fuck you, Naveen."</div>' 'autogenerated_68392'>><<setcompassionate -5>><<set $lavinet to 0>><</link>> <<if ($compassionate < 50) or ($cunning >= 60)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I could still use my influence to have you fired, you know."</div>' 'autogenerated_68393'>><<setcompassionate -5>><<set $lavinet to 0>><<setloyal -10>><<setreputation -5>><<set $cantbecommander += 3>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($compassionate >= 50) and ($cunning < 60)>><div class="inactive-item">"I could still use my influence to have you fired, you know."</div><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"...Very well. I'll respect your wishes and leave you alone."</div>' 'autogenerated_68394'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"All right. All I can say is that I'm so sorry. For everything."</div>' 'autogenerated_68395'>><<setcompassionate +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You have to understand. You weren't there. You don't know what it was like, what I went through. Prihine hated me, and when those Revenant rushed in..."</div>' 'autogenerated_68396'>><<set $lavinet -= 10>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I actually thought we were friends. I <i>liked</i> you. How can you be so cold?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68397'>><<setcompassionate +5>><<setloyal +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Leave in silence. You have nothing to say to her, and she doesn't deserve a response.</div>' 'autogenerated_68398'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Lavinet doesn't even acknowledge you, <<nobr>><<if $compassionate >= 60>> and you're left to turn and depart in silence, feeling the heat of anger and embarrassment boiling through your gut as you leave her behind. <<else>> and you turn and depart without another word. The silence falls between you both like a physical wall. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'lavinetover'>>

<<nobr>><<if $rank is "Commander">> <<setblade -5>> <<setriel -5>> <</if>><</nobr>> Lavinet lets out a cool, tinkling little laugh. "For what, pray tell? Aside from pretending to find you tolerable for a while, what offense have I committed? What deception have I engaged in? Have I lied about my qualifications or proven myself unable to defend the public in some way?" She tosses her hair over her shoulder, not deigning to look at you. "I'm sure it will cast a glow on your reputation to have me ejected on the basis of finding it uncomfortable to work with someone who dislikes you." You can only stand there for a moment in stunned anger before you're eventually left to turn and walk away in silence, your gut boiling with anger and embarrassment as you leave Lavinet behind. <<include 'lavinetover'>>

Lavinet only nods, not turning to look back at you, and eventually you're left to turn and walk away in silence, your heart heavy as you leave her behind. <<include 'lavinetover'>>

"Stop that at once," Lavinet cuts in then, as sharp and pitiless as a whip. "You won't find absolution from <i>me</i>. Don't you dare try explaining yourself so you can smooth things over and be the hero again. I'm not interested." She turns away, but her shoulders seem to tighten, as if she's been wounded. You stand for several moments in heavy silence before it becomes clear she wants nothing more to do with you. You walk away in silence, your heart heavy as you leave Lavinet behind. <<include 'lavinetover'>>

"You knew who I was from the moment I wrote to you," Lavinet returns in a cold, soft voice. "You had to have recognized my name. And yet <i>you</i> never said anything about Prihine, either. You were lying just as much as I was. And you let her <i>die</i>. I should be the one asking you how you can live with yourself." She turns away from you then, and eventually you're left to turn and walk away in silence, your heart heavy as you leave her behind. <<include 'lavinetover'>>

Lavinet doesn't turn to look back at you, and you walk away without a word, the icy silence cutting between the two of you like a physical wall. <<include 'lavinetover'>>

<<nobr>><<if $prihineromance is true>> <<set $lavinetromanceflag to 0>> <</if>> <<setlavinet +3>><</nobr>> You ask around and hear from other recruits that Lavinet is most likely in the practice fields, rehearsing cavalry maneuvers and horseback riding as usual. Ever since she joined the Order, she's hurled herself into as much training and practice as she can fit in: perhaps she's conscious of peoples' assumptions about her being a lazy, pampered noble and is determined to defy them. Or perhaps her discipline is simply just a part of who she is. When you finally come across her, you find Lavinet in a rare state of disarray: her horse has just unseated her, and she's picking herself up from the dust. Her usually-elaborate long hair has been tied in a simple braid, and she wears expensive but simple riding gear: a sharp contrast to her typical full skirts and glittering jewels. Up close, she smells of horse, sweat, and dirt rather than of delicate perfume and powdered rouge. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Lend a hand and help her up. "Are you all right?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68399'>><<setlavinet +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Reach up and steady her horse's bridle while she picks herself up. "That looked painful."</div>' 'lavinet_discussion'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Lean against the fence of the enclosure. "This looks like fun."</div>' 'lavinet_discussion'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $gender is "male">> <<set $lavinetromanceflag += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> Her hand is slim but surprisingly strong in yours as you tug her gracefully to her feet. <<nobr>> <<if $lavinetromanceflag >= 5>> She stumbles slightly, leaning a hair just too close to you to be strictly appropriate, and you're surrounded by the scent of her hair—there's the light green, tea-like tang of her soap, after all—and arrested by the sight of her voluptuous lips before she pulls back to look at you. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'lavinet_discussion'>>

"Oh, <<c firstname>>," the aristocrat says, sounding just a bit breathless; her high cheekbones are flushed with color, and she reaches up almost instinctively to smooth away a flyaway strand of hair. "You've caught me at a disadvantage. I wasn't expecting anyone to see me… looking like this." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if ($gender is "male") and ($lavinetromanceflag >= 5) and ($charisma >= 60)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Don't worry. I think it's quite an attractive look on you." [<b>FLIRT</b>]</div>' 'autogenerated_68400'>><<setlavinet +3>><<set $lavinetromanceflag += 3>><<setcharisma +3>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Oh, please, let's be frank: you look gorgeous even when you roll out of bed without washing your face. You have nothing to be self-conscious about."</div>' 'autogenerated_68401'>><<setlavinet +3>><<setcharisma +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Yes, you certainly look out-of-sorts. But I'll try to overlook it."</div>' 'autogenerated_68402'>><<setcharisma -3>><<setlavinet -3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Everybody looks like this when they're training. Did you see me the other day after sparring? Covered in mud from head-to-toe."</div>' 'autogenerated_68403'>><<setloyal +3>><<setcourage +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Lavinet's lips curl into a knowing, cat-like smile, and she bobs a quick curtsy of acknowledgment. "You're too kind. And perhaps a little too silver-tongued to be trustworthy." However, her smirk tells you that she enjoys the compliments. <<include 'lavinet_continue'>>

<<nobr>><<if ($gender is "male") and ($attractedto is not "men")>> <<set $lavinetromanceflag += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> "You're too kind," Lavinet proclaims with a delighted laugh, "though perhaps too generous—you've never seen me roll out of bed without washing my face." "I don't need to," you respond easily. "You're just one of those types of people." The kind who are effortlessly beautiful no matter what they do. <<include 'lavinet_continue'>>

She smiles thinly and turns back to her horse. "How charitable of you." <<include 'lavinet_continue'>>

Lavinet smiles. "Yes, but you were cheerful about it. That storm came out of nowhere." <<nobr>><<if $part > 7>> "After Wallmire, everything else seems like a ride in the park," you quip. <<else>> "I've been through far worse," you answer, smiling as well. "I've crawled through crypts, traversed quicksand, fought people in the grimiest backalleys imaginable…" <br><br> Lavinet gifts you with a surprised laugh. "I suppose you're right, then: nothing about my appearance could faze you. I am appeased." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'lavinet_continue'>>

You watch as she leads her horse over to a nearby trough, removing his bridle to allow him to plunge his head into the water to drink greedily. Lavinet's tone is wry as she inspects his hooves for stones in a practiced manner. "He has a fine enough lineage to be counted as an aristocrat himself, and yet he has all the manners of a common farm hog." You lean against the enclosure's fence, eyeing the silver-coated, dappled stallion: he's a fine young destrier with a silky white mane and a sprightly, feisty mien. By the look of him, you'd guess he cost at least eight times more than the well-bred coursers and rounceys currently populating the Shepherd stables. <<nobr>><<if $intelligence >= 65>> <<setlavinet +3>> "His name is Avonis, isn't it?" <br><br> Lavinet nods, clearly pleased that you remember. "It is." <<else>> "What's his name, again?" <br><br> "Avonis," Lavinet answers over her shoulder. <</if>><</nobr>> "How did you acquire him?" Lavinet laughs slightly, finally releasing Avonis and turning to sink elegantly down beneath the shade of a nearby tree. You join her, and her tone is both rueful and nostalgic as she says, "His sire was a retired war stallion. Although his bloodline was among the finest, Ajax—the sire—had been injured in combat and was no longer fit to ride. Our horsemaster thought to purchase him for breeding purposes, thinking his offspring might be suitable for my father or one of his knights. The result, of course, was Avonis, among a dozen other foals over the years. Of them, none were quite equal to Ajax's pedigree… except for Avonis. The only trouble was, he refused to be trained. He bucked anyone who attempted to ride him, bit and charged handlers, and even challenged his sire for control of the herd. In the end, the hostlers declared him a hopeless case and relegated him to his own paddock to spend his days in solitude, since they didn't trust him to go near the other horses and couldn't find a buyer who wanted to take in such an uncontrollable, mutinous beast." "And that's where you came in?" you guess, smiling at the thought of young Lavinet's tenacity. She flips her auburn braid over her shoulder. "But of course," she says with a tinge of pride. "How could I not gaze upon him and see a reflection of myself? A creature of the purest bloodline, something to be admired and beloved, but who defied expectation through his rebelliousness and independence? And for it, he was sentenced to be trammeled away in a place of solitude, doomed to watch the outside world from afar, never being allowed to run towards it. A place of comfort and prosperity, yes, where he could never be left wanting, but one of confinement nonetheless. Quite the poetic parallel, no?" She shrugs lightly, making a dismissive flick with her wrist, as if she were still wielding her silk fan. "So, at night, I would sneak out of my rooms and into his paddock, trying to earn his friendship and respect. I tried everything: bribery, discipline, sternness, begging—even chasing him around with a stick. It still took months for me to even touch him, let alone attempt giving him a saddle or a bit, but I kept at it; and eventually I managed to gain his trust. And once he saw that allowing me to ride him also meant his freedom from the paddock, he calmed down. Now he's as sweet as a lamb, at least to me, though I still have to see to most of his maintenance and care: he'll still try to kick the unwary handler if they're not paying attention, just to test his boundaries." She smiles nostalgically. "It was around that time that I was trying to convince my father to allow me to train as a chevalier. Initially, he refused, thinking it was simply a noble girl's passing fancy, and that I would crumble immediately under the pressure and humiliate the family once I was faced with the reality of things. But once I called him down to the fields and showed him how well I could ride the fearsome Avonis, whom even the hostlers refused to handle, he was persuaded. If I had the stubbornness and determination to train that horse after months of repeated and painful failure, I had what it took to undergo military training. And here we are today." You talk for a while longer, discussing her training under her father's master-at-arms, then with the Lockwood town guard, then with an official (albeit archaic) knighthood. "So this," you say, waving your hand to indicate your general surroundings, "being initiated into the Order, undergoing rigorous training—this is nothing new to you." Lavinet frowns to herself. "Yes and no," she admits. "I'm no stranger to the demands and structure of military service, it's true. But it's certainly different in other ways." However, she doesn't elaborate on the subject, and eventually the talk circles to other things as she asks you about your own travels and experiences, as well as your perspective on the Shepherds. "How do you feel about horseback riding?" she asks you at one point. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Although I'm a fair rider, I like riding an ahfuri better."</div>' 'lavihorsey'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm an excellent rider and always have been. The Order just prefers we ride ahfuri."</div>' 'lavihorsey'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm a pretty dismal horseback rider. I could never afford to buy my own horse."</div>' 'autogenerated_68404'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I don't have any particular thoughts or feelings about it."</div>' 'autogenerated_68405'>><<setlavinet -3>><<setcharisma -3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Lavinet nods pensively. "Yes, I suppose it's a luxury that I've never thought twice about. If you don't own land or a farm, and don't work for a company who will provide you with a horse, few commonfolk can purchase one on their own, can they? Not even mercenaries?" "I suppose if you saved your earnings scrupulously, took on a lot of jobs, and kept an eye out for a good deal, you could," you say, "but horses fit for war and long-distance travel are still much more expensive than the ponies that pull wagons and plows. And that's not even counting feed, equipment, saddlery, and stabling. When you don't know when your next paycheck is going to come, it's hard to justify saving up for such an expense. And if your horse throws a shoe or breaks a leg, there goes your entire investment in a matter of moments." Lavinet nods again, looking grave. "And here my father has at least a score of horses, growing fat and happy on our estate," she muses aloud. "Something to think about, to be sure." <<include 'lavinetaskagain'>>

Lavinet sends you a swift side-glance before deftly changing the subject, though she seems clearly unimpressed by your reticence. <<include 'lavinetaskagain'>>

Lavinet nods pensively. "Yes, that's a part of my training that I'm still getting used to. It was a surprise when I first joined—we never see ahfuri in Lockwood, or really any of the Norm territories: I'd only heard of them in stories until you came riding up to our gates. I still prefer horseback—you can't charge on an ahfuri the same way you can with a destrier—but I see an ahfuri's advantages, as well." <<include "lavinetaskagain">>

Another time she asks you: <<nobr>><<if $heritage is "Norm">><<include "lavinetnormborn">><<else>><<include "lavinetasksaboutweapon">><</if>><</nobr>>

"Is it true that you were raised by Norms? I didn't know that about you." You nod slowly, your heart catching at the thought of Westwood, frozen in time and swathed in a golden, peaceful light. The smell of the fields during the wheat harvest, the scolding of watching mothers as children competed against each other to climb the maypole in the village green... "Yes, I was. My father was actually the mayor of our settlement, a little pioneer town called Westwood." You hadn't realized it at the time, but watching Lavinet and her father conduct their business during the aftermath of your mission had vaguely reminded you of the conversations you would overhear between your parents about the running of Westwood. The administration of their large and prosperous fiefdom is much more complex than what the mayor of a tiny western town ever had to contend with, but it had struck you as somewhat familiar, all the same. Lavinet listens intently as you tell her this. "I've heard of Westwood, actually," she admits, dropping her eyes to stare at the grass you're sitting on. She runs her hands through the soft green blades and continues, "My grandfather sometimes donated to expeditions headed to the frontier, to help them purchase enough supplies to reach their destination and survive the first winter before their farms could begin producing crops. I think Westwood was one of those places. He always claimed they named it such after—well, after Lockwood, apparently, but I'm not sure if that part is true." You're taken aback by this revelation. "I never heard of any connection to any nobles back East," you comment, surprised. "Well, I suppose you wouldn't have," Lavinet replies, pushing her braid over her shoulder. "You were only a child, then. I doubt it would have come up." She looks away again, and her voice turns soft and diffident. "Do you think that if you had stayed... if what happened hadn't happened... you would have become the mayor of Westwood after your father?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I don't know. I was too young to contemplate my future then, and now we'll never know."</div>' 'autogenerated_68406'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Yes. I loved Westwood, and I always wanted to follow in his footsteps and lead it."</div>' 'autogenerated_68407'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"No. I was always looking at the horizon. My heart longed for adventure, even then."</div>' 'autogenerated_68408'>><<setlavinet +4>><<set $lavinetromanceflag += 1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Lavinet nods slowly. "Of course. And I suppose there's no point retreading what could have been, is there?" <<include 'lavinetnormconvo'>>

Lavinet nods slowly. "That's admirable," she states quietly. "I think you would have made an excellent mayor, for all that it's worth." <<include 'lavinetnormconvo'>>

"I couldn't have stayed in Westwood forever," you reply. "I would have wanted to get out and see the world." Lavinet smiles slightly. "Just like me," she says to herself. She shakes her head, almost wonderingly. "Perhaps we are more alike than we think." <<include 'lavinetnormconvo'>>

Then she shakes her head and adds, "I should have guessed you had Norm family members. You seem to hold much less resentment towards Norms than certain others." You guess she's referring to other Diminished, the ones who are far more vocal about their dislike of the Autarchy and Norms in general. She's even possibly thinking about Tallys. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I could never hold an entire race accountable for the choices of their ancestors or even their peers. People are just people, to be judged by their individual actions. Discriminating based on whole groups is just the same as what was done to us during the Castigation."</div>' 'autogenerated_68409'>><<setlavinet +3>><<setcompassionate +3>><<setcharisma +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"The people of Westwood loved me and raised me as their own, even though I wasn't of their blood. It would be a betrayal to their memory if I hated everyone like them, when they treated me with such unconditional care and acceptance."</div>' 'autogenerated_68410'>><<setlavinet +4>><<setcompassionate +3>><</link>> <<if $tallystime gt 0>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"It's complicated. I was fortunate enough to be raised by kind people, but if my entire family had been slaughtered by Norms and not Endarkened, I'm not sure I would react much more differently than Tallys."</div>' 'autogenerated_68411'>><<settallys +3>><</link>><</if>> <<if $tallystime lte 0>><div class="inactive-item">"It's complicated. I was fortunate enough to be raised by kind people, but if my entire family had been slaughtered by Norms and not Endarkened, I'm not sure I would react much more differently than Tallys."</div><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

Lavinet smiles. "That's very clear-minded of you," she murmurs. "I don't blame anyone for how they feel—if I'd been born Diminished, the One-God knows how I would react, or how I'd view the people who were essentially my oppressors, or at least benefited even indirectly from my oppression. But I do think the road to progress needs people with opinions like yours." <<include 'lavinetconvoone'>>

Lavinet smiles slightly. "That's a lovely way of thinking," she murmurs. "I can see how your upbringing made you into the person you are today. Through you, their legacy lives on, and I think that's beautiful." <<include 'lavinetconvoone'>>

Lavinet grimaces. "Of course. I understand." <<include 'lavinetconvoone'>>

"How did you take up the $mainweapon, if you don't mind my asking? Who taught you?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"My parents taught me. We had to know such things, in order to protect ourselves and survive."</div>' 'autogenerated_68412'>><</link>> <<if ($education is "Self-taught")>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I was self-taught, as in all things."</div>' 'lavilearn'>><<setcunning +3>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($education is not "Self-taught")>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I was self-taught. I learned by watching mercenaries, town guards, whoever I could spy on during their training sessions."</div>' 'lavilearn'>><<setcunning +3>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($education is "Circle-trained")>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"There were classes on self-defense at the Circle. That's where I first learned how to wield a $mainweapon."</div>' 'autogenerated_68413'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I first took up arms when I joined a small mercenary company. They were the first to teach me how to wield a $mainweapon."</div>' 'autogenerated_68414'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I trained under various battle-masters I encountered as I traveled around. They would take me on as a disciple before I would move on to the next."</div>' 'autogenerated_68415'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Trust me, it's too long of a story to tell now."</div>' 'autogenerated_68416'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Lavinet is surprised. "But you were so young." You shake her head. "That doesn't matter when a wild bear comes out of the woods to menace you when you're out picking berries, or bandits are rumored to be prowling around in the area. <<nobr>><<if $heritage is "Ket">> And in Drummond's Point, it was a matter of course that children learn how to take up arms. They were Ket, after all." <<elseif $heritage is "Norm">> Even in Westwood, remote as it was, farmer's children had to learn how to safely fire a rifle, even if it was only to scare off wolves from our livestock." <<elseif $heritage is "Hunter">> Even in Maj, remote as it was, farmer's children had to learn how to safely fire a rifle, even if it was only to scare off wolves from our livestock." <<else>> And in Vale, children are taught to shoot and maintain a bow almost as soon as they were old enough to run. So much of our livelihood depended on hunting." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'lavinetconvoone'>>

Lavinet looks surprised. "Really? They taught such things in the Circle?" "There were certain instructors who believed that Mages should learn to protect themselves, especially when they didn't have access to their magic," you acknowledge. "They weren't exactly experts, but they taught me enough to get me started on my own path." Lavinet thinks on this for a moment. "Did Red ever join you in these classes?" You smile to yourself. "No. He was always more interested in books and ruins than he was in blades and bullets." <<include 'lavinetconvoone'>>

"I didn't stay with them long," you explain, "and they weren't keen to keep me, seeing as how I was barely even a teenager. But once I learned those basic skills, I was able to improve and refine my techniques through experience. And I benefited from learning from a diversity of mentors. They came from all walks of life in that group." Lavinet shakes her head wonderingly. "I see. I've often thought that I can't exactly pinpoint your form or technique, but I suppose that's because it comes from a variety of sources, not just one school of thought." <<include 'lavinetconvoone'>>

Lavinet shakes her head wonderingly. "I see. Your skills must have already been impressive, then, for them to take notice of you and agree to take you on as a personal student." You shrug modestly, though it's true: you only ever trained with a handful of selected pupils at any one time, if any at all. "I would train under them for about a year, sometimes only for a handful of months, before they decided I knew all I needed to and released me to go my own way." Lavinet makes a humming sound. "Fascinating. I've often thought that I can't exactly pinpoint your form or technique, but I suppose that's because it comes from a variety of sources, not just one school of thought." <<include 'lavinetconvoone'>>

"Another time, then," Lavinet says, inclining her head agreeably. <<include 'lavinetconvoone'>>

"I learned by watching mercenaries, town guards, whoever I could spy on during their training sessions," you reply. "Once I gained those first basic skills, I eventually improved and refined my techniques through experience. There's no practice like having to rely on what you've learned to survive." Lavinet shakes her head wonderingly. "I see. A true trial by fire, then." <<include "lavinetconvoone">>

<<set $lavitalk to 0>>You talk for a while longer on all manner of topics, idly watching as Avonis begins to graze on a patch of juicy sweetgrass. However, throughout your conversation, you can't help but feel as if Lavinet seems a little preoccupied—as if her mind is elsewhere. Although on the surface, she seems perfectly attentive, you wonder if she's continuing to ask questions simply because it's what expected of her. Still, you decide to forge on. <<include "laviconvo1">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("lavifamily")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"How is your family? Have you heard from them?"</div>' 'lavifamily'>><<set $lavitalk += 1>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("lavifacilities")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"How have the facilities been treating you? I imagine your room is a far cry from what you're used to."</div>' 'lavifacilities'>><<set $lavitalk +=1>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("lavisettling")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"How have you been settling in? Are you making friends?"</div>' 'lavisettling'>><<set $lavitalk += 1>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("lavihobbies")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"What hobbies do you enjoy, other than horseback riding?"</div>' 'lavihobbies'>><<set $lavitalk +=1>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($lavitalk >= 2)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">You can't put it off any longer. "Is something on your mind? You seem distracted."</div>' 'lavinetfinal'>><</link>><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

Lavinet gives a low, throaty laugh. "My father and I are not exactly on speaking terms at the moment. But my sisters, yes, we write frequently. They've returned from their finishing college in Sacor City and have taken over my duties with admirable aplomb. Camilla, the older and more practical, has taken to the administrative side of things like a fish to water. I think she's always secretly been eager to prove herself as a perfectly competent heiress without my shadow looming over her, and will likely prove better at it than me, given time. Estora, the youngest, is a bit sillier and spoiled (though I love her dearly), so I hear she's harder to wrangle into learning the business—but between Camilla, Clara, and my steward, she isn't quite needed, anyway. She's much more interested in the social side of things, hosting balls and salons, that sort of thing. But both have been very supportive of my joining the Shepherds, and it's only through their sacrifice that I'm able to be here now." She leans back against the solid, warm bulk of the tree trunk behind you. "As for Clara and Pendric, they're doing just as well as ever, the darlings. I wish I could be there in person to help her plan the wedding, but Clara has always had understated tastes, so it's probably for the best: now she can plan the celebrations without worrying about who <i>I</i> would invite. Not that I would ever consciously interfere, of course, but sometimes she's very conscious of being my lady-in-waiting, and holds my opinion too highly above her own." She sighs and looks up at the sunlight streaming through the trees. Although the sky is still bright, it's beginning to take on a grayish tone; you catch the low rumble of thunder in the distance, and a slight breeze is picking up. The hair on your arms stands up at the sudden electric chill in the air. "And as for Lockwood, things are just the same as ever. <<nobr>><<if $lockwood is "unity">> The Elementals and the townsfolk are gradually growing used to each other, though there are still incidents here and there. Nothing major, however." <<elseif $lockwood is "elementals">> The Elementals haven't shown their faces yet, and in their absence, life has resumed as usual." <<elseif $lockwood is "norms">> The Elementals have gone away, the townsfolk have gone back to their homes, and life has resumed as usual." <<else>> The Elementals seem perfectly happy in Morinwe, the townsfolk are content and rebuilding, and life has resumed as usual." <</if>><</nobr>> She shrugs. "I always told my father the fiefdom didn't need me, and it seems I was right." You can't tell if her voice is wistful or relieved. <<include "laviconvo1">>

<<nobr>><<if $charisma < 50>> <<setlavinet -3>> <</if>><</nobr>> Lavinet smiles slightly. "That's considerate of you, darling, but I am not made of porcelain. The rooms here are perfectly adequate, if plainly-decorated: I was expecting straw pallets on the ground and bowls of porridge for every meal, but what I found instead was a grand, magical tower with bedrooms that are always kept perfectly warm and an army of cooks and laundresses to provide for us. Quartermaster Acquell—Shery, I mean—has done a remarkable job at making this place feel like a home: I expect that, if it weren't for her influence, <<nobr>><<if $part is 7>> Commander Bronwyn <<else>> Blade <</if>><</nobr>> would have seen nothing wrong with making us sleep without blankets. To test our moral fiber and resilience, or some such." She laughs at the thought. "And given that we are allowed to decorate our rooms as we like, I've done all I've needed to make myself comfortable." She pauses, then shudders. "The only thing that I need to get used to is sharing the baths with others. The first time someone walked in on me, I thought I would die of shock." <<nobr>><<if $lavinetromanceflag >= 6>> <br><br> You carefully try not to give that mental image too much thought. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "laviconvo1">>

"Oh, yes," Lavinet says brightly. "Everyone has been so... welcoming. Shery is one of the sweetest people I've ever met, and the other Captains have taken pains to check in on me and treat me warmly—even the Commander, whom I found quite intimidating at first. Master Syndran is incredibly interesting, and Trouble and Chase are some of the wildest and freest people I've ever met. Red is quite the courtly gentleman, and even Halek is something of a soothing presence. And Briony and Ayla have been treasures—I'm so glad I was able to meet you all first, because they've made me feel right at home. I feel as if I've known them—and you—for years." Still, something about her smile rings a little false. Or is that just your imagination? <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm glad." If she's choosing not to share something with you, she must have her reasons.</div>' 'laviconvo1'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Did something happen? You can tell me."</div>' 'autogenerated_68417'>><<setlavinet +3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Lavinet shakes her head with a slight laugh. "Nothing at all, darling," she says. "Truly, everyone has been so kind to me, even if their personalities did take a little getting used to. Living among courtiers and their etiquette all one's life does make one a little easily scandalized—but that passed within a few days. Now I don't even notice their eccentricities." You doubt that's the end of the story, but no more details seem to be forthcoming, so you decide to let the matter drop for now. <<include 'laviconvo1'>>

Lavinet frowns, as if taken off-guard by the question. "I suppose I've never quite differentiated between things I enjoy versus hobbies," she says slowly. "I have many things I <i>enjoy</i> doing: I enjoy playing card and lawn games, writing letters, commissioning artists, watching plays and concerts, walking in gardens, hosting parties, racing, and attending events—picnics, promenades, dances, races, jousting tournaments, that sort of thing. But those things aren't necessarily hobbies, are they?" She pauses, thinking it over. "And I have learned many arts as a matter of course in my upbringing and education: I can play musical instruments, draw and paint, sew and embroider, make flower arrangements and compose poetry..." Then she shrugs. "But I suppose those aren't hobbies I seek out on my own; they're simply skill sets I possess, as do all young aristocrats of my generation." She looks uncharacteristically uncertain as she continues, "I suppose I'm not sure what counts as a hobby. Most of my daily routine consists of getting ready for the day, training, riding, washing up, having my meals, and then retiring to my bedroom to reply to letters or document my day in my journal. I suppose I enjoy novels—particularly of the romantic variety. But when I try to outline my day, I suppose I don't have much to say. Most of my thoughts are consumed with either my training or my personal goals—furthering my ambitions in either the social sphere or the political." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"It's not that deep. Not everyone has to have hobbies."</div>' 'autogenerated_68418'>><<setlavinet -3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"What are your weaknesses, then? What are you not good at?"</div>' 'lavinetweaknesses'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"It sounds like furthering your goals <i>is</i> your hobby. What are your ambitions, then?"</div>' 'lavinetambitions'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You read romance novels?"</div>' 'lavinetromance'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Lavinet frowns and looks down at her hands. "I suppose you're right," she says eventually. "But to answer your question succinctly, I suppose mine are reading and riding. I am interested in a great deal many other things—fashion, art, dancing—but I don't pursue them regularly enough to count them as hobbies, I think." <<include 'lavinconvo1'>>

"Oh, too many things to count, darling," Lavinet says, waving an airy, confident hand. "I've never cooked a meal in my life, though I can pour tea very prettily. I've never played a drinking game, or even been drunk in public, and I am not a very good singer. In school, I was weak in theology and mathematics, and could only ever hope to be decent in history. There are many things I've never gotten the chance to try, and I would likely be horrid at them even if I did!" "You've never played a drinking game?" you repeat, just to make sure you heard her correctly. Lavinet gives you a look of surprise. "Of course not. Losing control of your faculties in such a manner is considered unseemly—many an aristocrat has ruined her own reputation by indulging a little too freely in bristic and wine." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Well, among our crowd, it's a way of bonding with the soldiers. Trouble and Ayla do it all the time."</div>' 'autogenerated_68419'>><<setlavinet +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"That's it. We're going drinking later. Tonight."</div>' 'autogenerated_68420'>><<setlavinet +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"That makes sense. Hard to take someone seriously when you've seen them dancing half-naked with a lampshade on their head."</div>' 'autogenerated_68421'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $gender is "male">> <<set $lavinetromanceflag += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> "Do they?" Lavinet makes a humming sound. "Yes, I'd noticed. Well... duly noted." Then she trails off, as if losing herself in a new thought. <<include 'laviconvo1'>>

Lavinet laughs, surprised and more than a little intrigued. "Well... if you say so," she concedes, sound just a bit shy. "Just... don't let me be sick in front of others, please. That would be a nightmare." But then she trails off, as if losing herself in a new thought. <<include 'laviconvo1'>>

Lavinet looks at you strangely. "Have you seen that here?" The memory of late nights and a carousel of raucous images flashes through your mind. "From at least three different people." Lavinet laughs, but already her thoughts seem to be somewhere else. <<include 'laviconvo1'>>

Lavinet sends you a sidelong, appraising look. She looks thoughtful as she answers breezily, "Well, my first goal is to make my debut at the Sun Court. The Continent is subdivided into several tiers of aristocracy, you see. Fiefdoms in the North, like Lockwood, have their nobles congregate every social season in Sacor, at what we call the Winter Court. —There are four main courts like this: the Winter Court, the Summer Court in Courtshore, the Rose Court in Ambryn, and the Iron Court in Kinley. But I digress. Among the aristocracy, we are considered provincial nobles. To the rural lords, whom we call 'third house lords' or 'barefoot duchesses' if we're being sly, we are urbane and sophisticated, gathering in a large city in comparison to their humbler country estates. But to the courtiers populating the Sun Court, who are players of the highest game in the land, we are charming, naive, sheltered, and ignorant, little better than country bumpkins and yokels. It takes special skill for an aristocrat of my standing to maneuver her way to the Sun Court. Generally, her likeliest avenues are through marriage; establishing strong enough social connections with existing Sun Courtiers who will take her under their wing and introduce her to the rest of the court; or accomplishing such extraordinary deeds that someone—sometimes even the Autarch—will invite her out of sheer desire to know who she is." "So by being the first noble to join the Shepherds, you hope to garner enough attention to be invited to the Sun Court?" Lavinet shrugs. "It was not my principal aim in joining the Order, I assure you, and I will not pursue missions or courses of action purely to give myself a reputational boost. But if it does happen that way, it would be a fortuitous bonus. Otherwise, I'm left to try for the second method: gaining friends among the Sun Courtiers themselves." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"And then? What's your plan after you finally make it into the Sun Court?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68422'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"And how will you gain friends among the Sun Courtiers?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68423'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I didn't know there were such restrictive hierarchies even among the nobility. Everyone just assumes you're the most powerful people in the Continent, and the story ends there."</div>' 'autogenerated_68424'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"And then... we'll see," Lavinet says simply. "For now, I'm only focusing on my next immediate step." But she falls silent, and somehow you sense that she's not telling you everything. It's in the nature of a courtier to play her cards close to her chest, you suppose. Maybe you need more time to get to know her. <<include 'laviconvo1'>>

"I'm not sure," Lavinet sighs. She falls silent then, and her eyes take on a faraway, remote look as she seems to lose herself in a new thought. <<include 'laviconvo1'>>

"Oh, no," Lavinet sighs, looking suddenly a little tired. "We aristocrats are very obsessive about pecking orders. Everyone has their place, it seems." She falls silent then, and her eyes take on a faraway, remote look as she seems to lose herself in a new thought. <<include 'laviconvo1'>>

Lavinet gives you a mischievous smile. "Of course, darling—any upstanding young aristocrat does. How else would we get our required dose of theatricality, sentimentality, and drama?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"What are they about?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68425'>><<setlavinet +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Aren't some romance novels quite salacious, though?" You've heard some have even been banned for being so explicit.</div>' 'autogenerated_68426'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Why read a novel when a real love story could unfold right before your very eyes?" <b>[FLIRT]</b></div>' 'autogenerated_68427'>><<set $lavinetromanceflag -= 1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $gender is "male">> <<set $lavinetromanceflag += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>>Lavinet smiles, seemingly surprised that you're genuinely curious about her novels. "Well, my favorite ones always involve forbidden love," she tells you, just a shade shyly. "Princesses and their bodyguards, heirs of enemy households, commoners and nobles, queens and their knightly champions or generals, and even people locked in unwanted betrothals all feature prominently in my collection." <<include 'lavisromancecollection'>>

Lavinet's eyes dance with mirth. "I've never heard of any," she says innocently—but from the look in her long-lashed, plum-colored eyes, you can tell this is a patent untruth. You laugh together for a moment, but after a few minutes, she sobers gradually; she seems to be thinking of something else now. <<include 'laviconvo1'>>

Lavinet gives a flick of her hair, which is the noble equivalent of rolling her eyes. "If you think such a line would work on me, darling, you'll have to try a bit harder," she says coolly. You grin ruefully. "You're right; my mistake." You both laugh the moment off, and the conversation turns to other subjects, but now Lavinet seems a bit distracted, as if she's thinking about other things. <<include 'laviconvo1'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You should talk to Halek. He could tell you all about being locked in an unwanted betrothal."</div>' 'autogenerated_68428'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"So you're into princesses and bodyguards... Interesting..." <b>[FLIRT]</b></div>' 'autogenerated_68429'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"That sounds interesting. I'd love a recommendation if you ever felt like giving one."</div>' 'autogenerated_68430'>><<setlavinet +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Lavinet laughs quietly: a brittle, hard sound. "Darling, I don't need to ask <i>him</i> about being engaged to someone he doesn't know or like—I've gone through the same thing myself! I only enjoy it in novels because I can lose myself in the fantasy of those trapped souls finding love in the arms of another, even if that person isn't their legal fiancé. I don't think Halek has much experience in <i>that</i>, does he?" "I should hope not," you mutter ruefully. You talk over the matter a while more, but now Lavinet seems distracted by some other thought. <<include 'laviconvo1'>>

<<nobr>><<if $prihineromance is true>> <<setlavinet -5>> <</if>><</nobr>> Lavinet gives you a droll look. "Why is that so interesting?" "Well..." You clear your throat. "When we first met, you were paying me to protect you." Lavinet lets out a slight, surprised laugh; she sounds almost dismissive as she replies, "No, darling, I hired you to help me solve the mystery of what was going on in Lockwood, not to protect me. I'm perfectly capable of protecting myself." "A queen and her general, then?" you try. Lavinet dips her head in acknowledge. "Perhaps," she says, an unreadable smile playing around her mouth. But her mind seems to be on other things, even as she indulges in the flirtation. <<include 'laviconvo1'>>

<<nobr>><<if $gender is "male">> <<set $lavinetromanceflag += 2>> <</if>><</nobr>> Lavinet practically glows with pleasure. "Truly? Well, if you're truly interested, darling, I'll send you some copies when we get back." You talk for a while longer about the kinds of books you like to read, but eventually she falls silent, as if she's lost in some other train of thought. <<include 'laviconvo1'>>

Lavinet stirs a little, then looks around at you, blinking. "I'm sorry, I'm being ungracious, aren't I?" she says, chagrined. "I'm sorry, darling, I was just thinking... Well, it doesn't much matter." She shakes her head, her auburn braid starting to come a little loose around her shoulders. "What is it?" you press, twisting around to face her fully. "You can tell me." Lavinet sighs and tips her head back against the tree trunk, staring up at the graying sky. The wind makes the leaves overhead buzz and flutter like the flapping of many butterfly wings. "It's nothing major," she admits, looking as if it's a strain to say it. "Only that... I still feel a little out-of-place here. It's a foreign and not entirely comfortable sensation for me. I'm used to—well, being <i>beloved</i>, I suppose. Even among the other nobles, even with rivals like Auberon and Isolde, I've always been able to navigate those waters so well that I always come out the other side looking better off than where I started. And I am respected and admired, and that has never changed." She glances at you sidelong to gauge if you're really listening, and when you stare steadily back, she looks away and continues, "The other recruits, you see, the lower-ranking officers—they're still quite suspicious of me. Many of them are not fond of nobles on principle: some bear grudges for some sin committed against their families, some landowner who turned their tenant-farmer grandfather out of his home or bled their mother dry through taxes, and they can't help but hate me. Others simply don't believe I have what it takes to make it as a Shepherd, and believe I must have bought my way into the Order, or will shortly drop out, and they look upon me with scorn and derision." You're silent for a moment, taking this in. Lavinet had voiced an early understanding about this on the way back to Haven, even before she'd officially gotten Blade's agreement to let her join the Order. So it doesn't exactly come as a surprise, but... "Have they harassed you in some way?" "Oh, no, nothing like that." Lavinet puts up a hand to stave off this line of thought. "They haven't <i>done</i> anything, but I still feel the chill of their unfriendliness. It's nothing that can be solved or punished, not by you or some other authority, and in fact, if you try and interfere, the hostility towards me will only increase. It's not as if they're bullying or cruel, it's more that their conversations stop when I walk into the room, or they don't hurry to help me up when they knock me over during a bout. It's only the sense that... they're not keen to like or even acknowledge me, and that can leave me feeling a little lost and friendless and alone, at times. It's simply nothing I've ever really felt before." "But what about the other captains?" you ask. "Briony and Ayla and the rest?" "Oh, they're lovely, and I certainly count them among my friends," Lavinet says swiftly. "<i>They</i> don't care about my status one wit, it seems, and that's a relief." Then her look turns wry as she says, "But they can also leave me feeling out-of-place in other ways, though it's purely unintentional on their part. It's just... you won't know how this feels, I think, but it's quite the unusual sensation to go up against superpowered Ket and Mages who can teleport across the country in the blink of an eye. Even the 'regular' Norms include a man who seems to have augmented powers as a result of being kidnapped and experimented on by a cult; a certified genius and one of the most brilliant minds of our generation; and, well, Chase, who seems to be able to accomplish truly impossible feats even though I think his lineage is entirely mundane, to the point where I wonder if <i>he</i> was experimented on, too. And there's Tallys, of course, a beautiful immortal archer, and Blade, the most fearsome swordsman on the Continent, and Briony, who can level a building with a single punch, and... of course... you." She trails off, her smile rueful and self-derisive, before she adds, "It's no one's fault, but I find that I have to work very hard to even hope to keep up—and I always thought I was quite exceptional, at least among my peers. Being around our companions sometimes has me feeling thoroughly ordinary and humbled and unworthy, as if I don't quite belong." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"But you are so extraordinary in so many ways, even if you don't see it yourself. I think if you give it more time, you'll find that you fit right in."</div>' 'autogenerated_68431'>><<setlavinet +4>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> <<if ($heritage is "Elf")>><<link '<div class="heritage-item">"To be honest with you, I know exactly how you feel. It's exactly how I felt, growing up among Elves. They had a way of making me feel completely mundane and mortal just by existing."</div>' 'autogenerated_68432'>><<setlavinet +3>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm sorry you've been feeling that way. But however it seems on the surface, we all struggle with our own flaws and even insecurities."</div>' 'autogenerated_68433'>><<setlavinet +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I suppose I see your point. It isn't exactly a fair competition, is it?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68434'>><<setlavinet -3>><<setcharisma -3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $gender is "male">> <<set $lavinetromanceflag += 2>> <</if>><</nobr>> "I mean, you're the first noblewoman to ever be brave and compassionate enough to join the Shepherds," you point out. "You helmed your fiefdom through a once-in-a-millennia supernatural crisis, you were knighted as a chevalier, and you burned down your father's rose garden to protest an unwanted engagement. <<nobr>><<if $lavinetromanceflag >= 6>> And you're beautiful, and kind, and brilliant. <</if>><</nobr>> I think that counts you as one of us." Lavinet turns to face you, and her burgundy eyes are both hopeful and softly glowing with appreciation. She lays a cool hand on your arm as she says quietly, "Thank you, <<c firstname>>. That's..." She takes a breath. "I needed to hear that. I can't tell you how much I appreciate your kindness." <<include 'lavinetbaronessintro'>>

Lavinet turns to face you, her eyes both hopeful and surprised. "Truly? That's surprising to hear, but..." She shakes her head. "If <i>you</i> could feel that way, it makes me feel... not quite so alone, and less frustrated at myself for being self-pitying." She smiles at you softly and reaches over to squeeze your hand. "Thank you, <<c firstname>>. That's a comfort to hear." <<include 'lavinetbaronessintro'>>

Lavinet turns to face you contemplatively. "Truly?" she says. "That's surprising to hear, but... I suppose it makes sense." She smiles briefly. "If <i>you</i> could feel that way, it makes me feel... not quite so alone, and less frustrated at myself for being self-pitying." Then she reaches over to squeeze your hand. "Thank you, <<c firstname>>. You've been a comfort." <<include 'lavinetbaronessintro'>>

Lavinet shrugs eloquently. "No, and yet it's no one's fault, and nothing that can be changed. I must simply resolve to improve my standing or stop wallowing about it. Either way, I must move forward." <<include 'lavinetbaronessintro'>>

Then she looks away again and says somberly, "There's something else." You feel a drop of rain splatter on the back of your hand, but when you check the sky, it only looks lightly cloudy. "What?" Lavinet looks painfully embarrassed as she says, "Well, I don't feel yet as if I quite belong amongst the captains, and the recruits have not yet accepted me. So the only other social group I have left is the nobles of Haven—none of whom I know personally. And there's a protocol to introducing myself to them: I need to call on their households and leave a note, they need to send me a formal invitation to dinner after an appropriate amount of consideration, and only through a series of painstaking first meetings and introductions and parties can I slowly attempt to integrate myself into their social circles. It's a very delicate balance. Normally a provincial noble like myself would hardly even think of calling on an aristocrat of Haven, not unless we had some mutual acquaintance to introduce us or some specific reason to meet, but they might also be more intrigued to meet me if they've heard of what happened in Lockwood, or about my joining the Shepherds. On the flip side, such unorthodox behavior could make me anathema to them, and anyone seen associating with me will be perceived as making a strong political statement, and so we must both play the game judiciously. They cannot look too eager to accept me, and I cannot seem too much of a simpleton upstart to presume I can simply waltz into their higher social echelon." You nod slowly. "So you want to gain a foothold into the world of the Haven elite, but you have to be cautious about it. <<nobr>><<if ($prihinesafe or $bothsafe) is true>> Couldn't Prihine help you with that?" <br><br> Lavinet shakes her head. "Perhaps as a fall-back plan, but if I must rely on my younger cousin to be my introduction to the Sun Court, I'm already not cut out to participate in their cutthroat machinations. It's complicated, but right now, it would only undermine my reputation with them and form a poor first impression." <<else>> Couldn't Riel help you with that?" <br><br> Lavinet shakes her head. "Although Riel has useful contacts in that quarter, he is not a noble—and while it shouldn't matter, it does. It's why he still keeps up the pretense of being an eligible bachelor: because he, too, needs to claw his way up the ladder in order to be taken seriously by those in the Consortium." <</if>><</nobr>> She closes her eyes and continues, "If all of this were merely a problem of the future, I would be unfazed. I've always known it would be difficult to prove my worth and break my way into their particular arena, so it's not as if I could miss what I already don't have. But just a few days ago, I..." She sighs heavily. "I committed a grave error." "What did you do?" you ask in a low voice, arrested despite yourself. Lavinet fans herself with her hand, almost out of unconscious habit. "I was in the Market Quarter, looking for a dressmaker, when a very refined lady walked into the modiste's shop. One Berenene Varice, baroness of Ancelier. And I'm not sure what came over me: I was wearing a simpler dress, nothing uncouth, still appropriate for a noble of my standing, but not fit for meeting someone like Lady Berenene. And she didn't know my face, so I could have said nothing at all and let her pass me in silence. But because I was feeling low-spirited, because I was already feeling out-of-place among the officers here <i>and</i> the captains..." She trails off with a shudder. "An impatience came over me. I thought to myself, 'Why should I dress in extravagant clothes just to meet a woman who has no more inherent merit than I?' So I walked right up to her and introduced myself." From her tone, you can deduce enough to wince. "What happened?" Lavinet sighs again, and her voice turns flat and dull. "Exactly what I should have expected. I took her by surprise and violated etiquette by approaching her so familiarly. So she responded by snubbing me—giving me the cut, as we call it. And normally when that happens, I have some recourse, some connection to prevail upon to regain lost ground, or exact revenge, or recover some semblance of my dignity... but here, I am alone. So I must bear the embarrassment in silence, unable to do anything about it. And now I'm sure tales of my heathenry are circulating the Sun Court as we speak." She makes a grimace of frustration and drags a hand through her hair, making her appearance look even more unkempt. She finishes dejectedly, "And now I find myself in a hard position. I can either focus all my efforts on gaining the trust and respect of my Shepherd comrades... or I can begin work on engineering my ascent among the nobles of Haven, trying to recover from a shaky start. But if I'm going to succeed in one, I cannot do both. I must pick which goal I care about more." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You work for the Shepherds now. It's better to focus on the present and concentrate on gaining the respect of your comrades-in-arms."</div>' 'autogenerated_68435'>><<set $lavinet_common to true>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"The Sun Court is your long-term goal. It's better to begin preparing for the future rather than worrying about what's only ultimately going to be temporary."</div>' 'autogenerated_68436'>><<set $lavinetharden += 1>><<set $lavinet_politics to true>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Remain silent. You're not sure what to say.</div>' 'autogenerated_68437'>><<setlavinet -10>><<setcharisma -5>><<setcompassionate -3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"Out in the field, will you be worrying about what Lady So-and-So thinks of you?" you ask. "No. But gaining a good reputation among the officers could save your life one day." <<include 'lavinetsrealize'>>

"Five years from now, or ten, will you be worrying about what Officer So-and-So thinks of you?" you ask. "No. If your aim is for the Sun Court, you need to start working for it now. It will take time to gain a foothold into their ranks: the longer you put it off, the harder the climb will be." <<include 'lavinetsrealize'>>

There's a long, awkward silence before Lavinet takes a slow breath. "Well," she says in a slightly stilted way, as if conscious that she's talking to herself, "I suppose there's no easy answer to this. And I—" <<include 'lavinetthunderstrike'>>

Lavinet takes in a sharp breath at your words; there's a long silence before she turns to you, and something like a bitter smile of acknowledgment plays around her mouth. "I know you're right," she says softly. "It sounds so simple when you say it." Then she shakes her head with a laugh. "Thank you, <<c firstname>>. Your words—your opinion—means the world to me. And I—" <<include "lavinetthunderstrike">>

<<nobr>><<set $lavinetstatus to "She recently confided her private worries to you.">><</nobr>>A sudden roar of thunder rolls across the sky, and a burst of rain abruptly pours down on your heads. Avonis whinnies a challenge and rears, and Lavinet leaps up with a cry, grabbing for his neck before he can take off running across the field. You jump up to help her, and as you're wrestling with him, you suddenly glance up and catch sight of Lavinet laughing at the picture the two of you must make. Her hair falls in a soaked orange tangle into her eyes, and for a moment, she simply looks like a normal young woman, no more noble or wealthy than any other, and you're struck by the sudden visage of her youth and happiness. She shouts over the downpour: "We have to get him into the stable, and then we'll make a run for it! We'll be covered in mud by the time we're done!" "It doesn't matter!" you shout back, and Lavinet grins her agreement. And as you take off sprinting across the slippery, muddy field, you think to yourself that if she could grimly and stubbornly resolve to win Avonis's trust, no matter what it took, she can tackle anything that stands in her way and still prevail, no matter how hopeless the situation seems. You try to tell her this, and although she smiles and nods, you're not entirely sure if she hears you. She's too busy trying to get out of the rain. <<nobr>><<if $prihineromance is false>> <<include "lavinetover">> <<else>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "lavinetprihine">><</link>></center> <</if>><</nobr>>

Later, once you've made it back to the cover of the compound, standing beneath the colonnades of one of the courtyards and desperately trying to towel off, Lavinet suddenly turns to you and says frankly, "I've been to see my cousin, you know." Despite yourself, you pause, and your heart gives a little hurtling leap in your chest. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Um..."</div>' 'ruhrohprihine'>><<setcunning -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Act casual. "How is she?"</div>' 'ruhrohprihine'>><<setcunning +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Act confused. "Your cousin?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68438'>><<setlavinet -3>><<setcunning -3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"Prihine," Lavinet reminds you, not fooled for an instant. "Once Prihine Naveen, now Prihine Turti, widow of the former Minister of Trade?" "Oh," you say dumbly, concentrating on rubbing the towel against your hair and concealing your stunned expression. "Right. That cousin." <<include 'ruhrohprihine'>>

"She's doing well," Lavinet continues conversationally, her tone perfectly cordial. "She seems to have matured greatly since coming to Haven, and especially since taking over her husband's estate. She used to dislike me quite strongly, actually, when we were younger, because I was the oldest cousin and received the most attention from our relatives and peers, and I think she was desperately unhappy. I even tried to put a stop to her wedding, though there was not much I could do from afar." She shakes her head. "But she seems to be more at peace, now. We may never be the best of friends, but we are family, and we can support each other now that we live in the same city. I hope to grow closer to her as time goes on." "That's great," you say awkwardly, aware of toweling for too long and turning instead to gaze out at the rain. "She told me about you," the aristocrat finishes, not to be deterred. At your shocked glance, she amends: "Not in so many words. In fact, she didn't mention your name at all. But I know her well, and she alluded to picking up a lover in a very worldly, courtly, braggadocious way, and only through context and slight hints was I able to put two and two together. I'm sure she doesn't even know that I know." Then she pauses, waiting in expectant silence. <<include "ruhrohprihine2">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"It was only one time. And it didn't mean anything. Not to me."</div>' 'autogenerated_68439'>><<set $prihineromanceflag -= 5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"We were attracted to each other. And I still care for her. But we haven't seen each other since."</div>' 'autogenerated_68440'>><<set $prihineromanceflag += 10>><<setlavinet +3>><</link>> <<if not hasVisited("lavinetprihineother")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Are you sure she wasn't talking about someone else?" Maybe she's taken up with another lover.</div>' 'lavinetprihineother'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("lavinetprihinereason")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Is there any particular reason why you're telling me this?"</div>' 'lavinetprihinereason'>><<setcunning +1>><<setlavinet -5>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Maintain your silence.</div>' 'autogenerated_68441'>><<setlavinet -5>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Lavinet nods slowly. "I see," she says quietly. "Well, from the way it sounded, you were both clear on that from the start. I'm not here to hound you into proposing to her when that's not what either of you want or intended." She stirs and adds, "I simply wanted to... thank you. For taking treating her with care, and for maintaining your discretion, as well. Prihine has not had much love in her life. I'm glad she could find solace with you, even if only for one night." She pats you on the shoulder, as if to say, <i>See? That wasn't so bad</i>, before smiling and turning to head back inside. Blowing out a breath, you turn to follow, and neither of you bring up the topic again. <<include 'lavinetover'>>

"I see," Lavinet says softly. There's a long, drawn-out moment as you both stand there in contemplating, your breath steaming in the rain, before she stirs and says, "Well, I wanted to thank you. She could only praise you in the highest terms, and I'm grateful to you for... for taking care of her, and for maintaining your discretion, as well. Prihine has not had much love in her life. I'm glad she could find solace with you, even if only for one night." She pats you on the shoulder, as if to say, <i>See? That wasn't so bad</i>, before smiling and turning to head back inside. Blowing out a breath, you turn to follow, and neither of you bring up the topic again. <<include 'lavinetover'>>

Lavinet sighs, as if expecting your reticence, but she continues in the same measured voice, "Well, I wanted to thank you for your... discretion. Prihine has not had much love in her life. I'm glad she could find solace with you, even if only for one night." Then she gives you a haughty look, as if to say, <i>See? That wasn't so bad, was it?</i> before turning to head back inside. Blowing out a breath, you turn to follow, and neither of you bring up the topic again. <<include 'lavinetover'>>

Lavinet shakes her head. "No, she confirmed that there's only been the one. And that would be you." <<include "ruhrohprihine2">>

"I wanted to learn what your feelings about the matter were," Lavinet answers mildly. "Don't worry: I'm not angry. I'm not some male relative coming to defend her honor. I was merely curious." <<include "ruhrohprihine2">>

<<nobr>><<setlavinet +5>> <<set $lavinetcolor to "lavender">><</nobr>> You find Lavinet in her sumptuous, well-appointed room, a large suite that she already had a designer come and renovate with the most comfortable furnishings when she first moved into the compound. She's already in the midst of dressing to go out, tossing a fur throw around her shoulders and tugging on a long pair of elegant, silk white gloves in front of her floor-length, gold-edged mirror. She's the complete picture of an aristocrat today, no longer the grinning young woman with a shirtfront splattered with mud, but the imperious, statuesque noblewoman you met in Lockwood, beautiful and utterly in control of herself. However, something is also drastically different about her today... You stare. Lavinet's glossy, curly hair, which falls in a heavy tumble almost down to her waist, is no longer auburn, but a pale lavender! <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"What did you do to your <i>hair</i>?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68442'>><<setlavinet -5>><<set $lavinetromanceflag -= 5>><<setcharisma -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You dyed your hair?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68443'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You look amazing!"</div>' 'autogenerated_68444'>><<setlavinet +1>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Something's different about you, but I can't quite put my finger on it..."</div>' 'autogenerated_68445'>><<setintelligence -1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Lavinet casts you a droll look. "It's called hair dye, darling," she quips innocently, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "It's the latest rage in the South. I have a <i>visagiste</i>—a kind of stylist—who does home visits; she cuts, dyes, and styles hair, as well as applies the most brilliant maquillage. I'll introduce you to her next time." You shake your head in wonder. "Leave it to you to find your very own visagiste so soon after arriving in Haven." Lavinet gives a throaty laugh. "A good stylist is one of the most important things a lady must secure in any new home," she returns. "Aside from a good lawyer and a good armorer, of course." <<include 'lavinet_hair_comment'>>

Lavinet casts you a droll look. "Thank you for noticing," she quips, dipping in a minute curtsy. "Yes, it's the latest rage in the South. I have a <i>visagiste</i>—a kind of stylist—who does home visits; she cuts, dyes, and styles hair, as well as applies the most brilliant maquillage. I'll introduce you to her next time." You shake your head in wonder. "Leave it to you to find your very own visagiste so soon after arriving in Haven." Lavinet gives a throaty laugh. "A good stylist is one of the most important things a lady must secure in any new home," she returns. "Aside from a good lawyer and a good armorer, of course." <<include 'lavinet_hair_comment'>>

<<nobr>><<if ($lavinetromanceflag >= 5) and ($gender is "male")>> <<set $lavinetromanceflag += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>>Lavinet turns and gives you a genuine smile, snapping out her fan to lay it gently against her lips in the attitude of Coy Gratitude. "Thank you, darling," she purrs. "It's the latest rage in the South. I have a <i>visagiste</i>—a kind of stylist—who does home visits; she cuts, dyes, and styles hair, as well as applies the most brilliant maquillage. I'll introduce you to her next time." You shake your head in wonder. "Leave it to you to find your very own visagiste so soon after arriving in Haven." Lavinet gives a throaty laugh. "A good stylist is one of the most important things a lady must secure in any new home," she returns. "Aside from a good lawyer and a good armorer, of course." <<include 'lavinet_hair_comment'>>

Lavinet casts you a droll look. "Oh, you can't tell?" she quips innocently. "I'm trying a new shade of lip-paint." Those very same lips quirk ruefully. <<include 'lavinet_hair_comment'>>

Then she turns away and rearranges her hair again, talking to her reflection in her mirror as she continues, "After we spoke last time—when Berenene Verice gave me the cold shoulder in that dressmaker's shop, if you remember—I was feeling rather low about myself. And then I thought: what better way to start fresh and begin a new chapter than to reinvent my image? Why not cast off the burdens and baggage of the past—the barefoot rural heathen the nobles here see me as, and the spoiled, burdensome princess the recruits despise—and step into who I'm supposed to <i>be</i>? At least while I'm here?" She pouts playfully into the mirror, her velvet-red lips forming a smoldering moue as she seems to practice looking confident and alluring. Then she catches your gaze in the mirror's reflection and leans back with a smile. "<i>This</i> Lavinet Naveen," she says, patting her now lavender locks, "fears the scrutiny and judgment of no one." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Hear, hear!"</div>' 'autogenerated_68446'>><<setlavinet +1>><</link>> <<if $lavinetromanceflag >= 8>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"<i>This</i> Lavinet Naveen is the most gorgeous woman I have ever beheld." <b>[FLIRT]</b></div>' 'autogenerated_68447'>><<set $lavinetromanceflag += 3>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You don't need to change yourself, Lavinet. The answer doesn't lie in superficial appearances."</div>' 'autogenerated_68448'>><<setlavinet -3>><<setintelligence +1>><<setcharisma -1>><<setcompassionate -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I wish you hadn't done that. That color looks hideous on you."</div>' 'autogenerated_68449'>><<setlavinet -15>><<setcharisma -10>><<setcompassionate -5>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Lavinet smiles, looking pleased by your show of support. <<include 'lavinet_dressing_help'>>

A small, pleased smile curves Lavinet's voluptuous lips as she lifts her burgundy gaze to meet yours in the mirror. "Flatterer," she says warmly. "You pay compliments as well as any lifelong courtier, <<c firstname>>. Take care, or I shall have to require your presence at my side everywhere I go." <<include 'lavinet_dressing_help'>>

<<nobr>><<if $lavinetromanceflag > 0>> <<set $lavinetromanceflag -= 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> Lavinet shoots you an unimpressed look, though she doesn't seem offended; she just seems to think you don't fully comprehend the point. "Perhaps not, <<c firstname>>," she answers indifferently, with a bit of a haughty air as she dabs at her lips with a handkerchief. "But at least it makes me happy." <<include 'lavinet_dressing_help'>>

<<nobr>><<if $lavinetromanceflag >= 1>> <<set $lavinetromanceflag to 0>> <</if>><</nobr>> Instantly, the temperature in the room seems to drop as Lavinet's back stiffens in affront. After a long, icy pause, during which she continues to rearrange her hair without looking at you, she remarks in an almost idle tone, "And I wish you had taken better lessons in etiquette, <<c firstname>>. Cruelty in the guise of honesty is no substitute for virtue." <<include 'lavinet_dressing_help'>>

Finally she sighs and straightens. "It is so bothersome, getting dressed without a handmaid," she complains, though her tone indicates that she's merely making conversation, not truly in distress. "It takes so long, and there are so many details to fuss with. How does the average person ever manage to tie up her own laces?" To demonstrate, she tugs futilely at a veritable mess of laces and ribbons at the back of her dress. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Step forward. "Let me help you."</div>' 'helplavinetdress'>><<setcharisma +1>><<setloyal +1>><<setlavinet +5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Laugh. "I don't suppose you could hire a maidservant?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68450'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Shake your head. "I'm hopeless with that kind of thing. I daresay I'd even make it worse."</div>' 'autogenerated_68451'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Smirk. "I don't think the average person gets to even touch lace. Getting dressed isn't their biggest concern."</div>' 'autogenerated_68452'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Shrug. "Well, what did you expect when you joined a military order? It's not as if we could provide you someone to brush your hair and fill your bath."</div>' 'autogenerated_68453'>><<setlavinet -10>><<setcharisma -5>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setloyal -5>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"Oh, could you imagine the uproar?" Lavinet asks, widening her eyes in mock-scandal. "If the other officers don't loathe me now, they certainly would after that!" "Get an apprentice to act as your valet." She laughs, delighted. "Oh, yes, that would go over marvelously!" <<include 'lavinet_ready_tea'>>

"Oh, tish, everyone around here seems to say similar things," Lavinet laments as she painstakingly laces up her dress. "I think only Riel, Red, and Chase try to be truly fashionable. Halek and Tallys don't care about it, but they're so effortlessly and naturally stylish that they pull it off anyway. But the others... Trouble, per se, or Ayla or even our dear Ket commander Blade..." She shudders expressively. You grin. "You don't consider them to be fashionable?" Lavinet makes an unimpressed sound. "<i>They</i> actively loathe the word! They act as if they're allergic to it! If they'd just let me take them on a shopping trip, or at least do something about their hair..." You try to imagine what your friends might look like if they allowed Lavinet to get their hands on them, your lips twitching at the image of a preened, polished, slicked version of Trouble with moussed hair and a fancy cravat, or Ayla in a pantsuit and heels. <<include 'lavinet_fashion_opinions'>>

Lavinet makes a humming sound in acknowledgment, though she seems disappointed you didn't play along with her little contrivance. <<include 'lavinet_ready_tea'>>

<<nobr>><<if $lavinetromanceflag >= 1>> <<set $lavinetromanceflag -= 5>> <</if>><</nobr>> Lavinet rolls her eyes. "Of course I know that, <<c firstname>>. I suppose idle chatter for idle chatter's sake isn't a thing you do much around here." <<include 'lavinet_ready_tea'>>

<<nobr>> <<if ($lavinetromanceflag >= 10) and ($gender is "male")>> <<set $lavinetromanceflag += 5>> <</if>> <<if ($lavinetromanceflag >= 10) and ($attractedto != "men")>> You step forward to help Lavinet lace up her dress, but are immediately distracted by her proximity to you, the fragrant warmth of her hair and the rustle of her skirts as she turns trustingly back towards the mirror. You maintain your composure, but you can't help but swallow as you consider that this might be the closest you've ever physically been to the beautiful noblewoman; she smells of rose and damask, a heady, intoxicating mix. Abruptly, you notice that there's a small beauty mark on the back of her neck, just at the junction between neck and shoulder. If you leaned forward even slightly, you could drop a kiss on that exact spot, feel the exquisite softness of her pale skin against your lips, the sweet brush of her curls against your cheek as her skirts brush enticingly against your leg... <br><br> Clearing your throat, you manage to tighten the laces on Lavinet's dress, stepping away quickly before she notices how your hands are fumbling slightly. Lavinet gives no outward sign of having noticed the effect she has on you, but when you lift your gaze to hers in the mirror, you find her eyes lingering on you, as well. <br><br> Lavinet clears her throat delicately and makes a show of continuing to touch up her face. "Thank you, <<c firstname>>," she murmurs. <br><br> "Of course," you answer, tucking your hands firmly behind you. <br><br> <<include "lavinet_ready_tea">> <<else>> <<include "lavinet_help_dress">> <</if>><</nobr>>

You step forward to help Lavinet lace up her dress. She laughs as you do so, amused. "How kind of you! And I daresay, you seem very practiced at this. Should I hire you to do this full-time?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I <i>did</i> actually serve in a noble household once, you know."</div>' 'autogenerated_68454'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I was mostly a bodyguard, but I still had to help my clients dress once or twice."</div>' 'autogenerated_68455'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I've always been interested in clothes and fashion. It just comes naturally to me, I suppose."</div>' 'autogenerated_68456'>><<setlavinet +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You'd have to pay me a handsome salary for such a service."</div>' 'autogenerated_68457'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I wouldn't be caught dead being someone else's servant."</div>' 'autogenerated_68458'>><<setloyal -5>><<setcompassionate -1>><<setcharisma -1>><<setlavinet -5>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

You didn't even last a month, but there was a stint where you tried out your hand as a <<nobr>><<if ($intelligence >= 60) or ($education != "Self-educated")>> tutor <<else>> servant <</if>><</nobr>> in a noble household. It was a terrible winter, and you were trying to find long-term occupation that could keep you clothed and fed through it. Still, the work wasn't for you. Lavinet's eyes are wide as she turns her head to look at you from over her shoulder. "But you never said! Who were they?" You shake your head. "I doubt you would know them. They were an incredibly rural, backwoods noble family, which is why they'd allow an unknown Mage on their staff in the first place." You name the family, and Lavinet shakes her head slowly. "Still," she marvels. "I wonder how they would feel now, knowing their one-time employee is now the famous Hero of Haven?" You laugh as you finish tying up her laces. "I never even gave them my real name. They wouldn't know me if they passed me in the street." <<include 'lavinet_ready_tea'>>

That included Prihine, you recall with an eerie feeling of deja vu, who didn't bring any servants with her on that long journey from her father's home in Brunen to her husband's household in Haven. However, Lavinet chooses not comment about this and merely laughs shortly. "I can't imagine you had very easy clients." You smile ruefully as you finish tying up her laces. "No. But they taught me how to finish off different outfits, at least." <<include 'lavinet_ready_tea'>>

<<nobr>><<if $lavinetromanceflag >= 5>> <<set $lavinetromanceflag += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> Lavinet looks at you with interest. "Really? I never knew that. You dress very well, of course, but I didn't know it was a special interest of yours." You shrug as you finish tying up her laces. "I've just always liked following the trends, seeing how people follow or add to them. How different fabrics and colors suit different people, what society marks as desirable and what's not." She makes a humming sound of agreement. "Yes, and people hardly realize how important such things really are, even though we know appearances tell us so much! If only our dear Ket commander of ours took lessons from you... perhaps the issue of his hair could be remedied..." She shudders briefly, then lays a hand on your forearm. "We must discuss this more sometime, darling! I have all sorts of fashion manuals from Courtshore to go over with you." <<include 'lavinet_ready_tea'>>

Lavinet laughs, clearly amused by the silly banter. "But of course I would! The Hero of Haven, at my beck and call? The very idea is priceless!" <<include 'lavinet_ready_tea'>>

Lavinet raises a brow at this, but she chooses to hold her tongue and stands silently regarding her mirror as you finish up tying her laces. <<include 'lavinet_ready_tea'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You might be on to something there..."</div>' 'autogenerated_68459'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Oh, leave them alone. They're best as they are."</div>' 'autogenerated_68460'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Lavinet claps her gloved hands with delighted approval. "Yes, I knew you would be in my corner! But we'll have to be subtle, and start with the most amenable one first. I believe Trouble might be the most influenceable..." <<include 'lavinet_ready_tea'>>

Lavinet sighs heavily. "In <i>your</i> opinion," she grumbles to herself. "But it couldn't hurt Briony to not have holes in her socks..." <<include 'lavinet_ready_tea'>>

Finally she turns away from the mirror and regards you with a bright look. "Well, then. Are you ready?" You look at her, a bit dumbfounded. "For?" Lavinet glides forward and tucks your arm into hers. "We are going out together," she announces triumphantly. "And we are going to have tea." <<page_break "..." "lavinet_tea_salon">>

Getting tea at the most fashionable tea salon in Haven is, apparently, Lavinet's solution for whenever she feels down about something. You stroll together through the streets, chatting easily and amiably about all manner of topics, but it occurs to you as you walk up to lavish Whitestone that this is the first time you and Lavinet have been out of the compound, alone and in public, since she first joined the Order. Normally you go out in a group setting, or otherwise spend time together within the privacy of the compound walls... but this might be the first time that the two of you go on an official "outing." You wonder what the significance of that is. Some of it makes itself clear to you through the curious looks and stares you attract as you two walk sedately together down the shaded avenues. With all of Lavinet's refinery—along with her now exotic lilac hair—your obvious status as a Diminished person, and the fact that the two of you are walking arm-in-arm, you make for quite the unusual sight. The other citizens of Haven don't hesitate to let you know it, some commonfolk outright staring and gawking and one or two wealthier merchants dressed in brocade ducking their heads together and launching into a flurry of whispers. You glance sidelong at Lavinet as you continue to converse, but she gives no sign that she notices any of this scrutiny. Still, you can't help but wonder if she's sending some sort of message with all of this... Still, it's only with the most casual, friendliest air that the two of you present yourselves at the tea salon, The House of the White Peony, in Whitestone. The interior of the salon is light and airy and delicate as a souffle; the most pleasant, melting backdrop of murmured, elegant conversation permeates the entire place, along with the gentle clinking of glass and silverware and the sounds of graceful little carts full of tiny pastries and confections being wheeled around by white-suited waiters. The host guarding the entrance gives you a rather startled look, but at Lavinet's tight, chilled smile, he hastily guides you to a white-clothed table in the very center of the room. Abruptly, you feel as if you've stepped over an invisible threshold into hostile enemy territory. Hardly anyone at the other tables spares you a glance, but you feel the acute sense of being scrutinized, assessed, and evaluated all the same. You look around and take in the painted, dewy faces, the charming tilts to the head and unstudied little careless gestures, the diamonds sparking on fingers and glittering in clusters at fine throats. This, you decide, is an echelon of people entirely separate from your own, even more so than the aristocrats you encountered at Lockwood. Lavinet, heedless, examines the pressed-linen menu critically and comments idly, "I thought we should give this place a try, though I hear Velvet and Ivory or the Pearl and Opal are the old standbys. The Crystal Garden, too. Do you think we should restrain ourselves to beverages, or shall we order a platter of tea sandwiches—ah." A shadow slides across your table, and the two of you look up and are confronted by the sight of two young men: one is dusky-skinned with carelessly tousled, burnished brown hair, the other golden-skinned and black-haired, and with a fringe of the most stunning long lashes you think you've ever seen. Both give sophisticated bows to Lavinet, though neither of you rise to greet them in turn, no doubt following some esoteric protocol you're unaware of. "Pardon the interruption," the man with burnished ocher hair murmurs, "but we simply had to make ourselves known to you." He introduces himself as Klaud Holst, and the other man as his cousin, Raun Kitanwa. Lavinet, polite but unreadable to you, gives your own introductions, and Klaud answers with smooth eagerness, "Yes, I knew it must be you. Lady Lavinet Naveen, the heiress who joined the Shepherds' Order. We've heard so many tales of your adventures in the North, and of your deeds since arriving to Haven..." He glances down at her and gives a cool, practiced little smile. "May I call upon you sometime? I'm convinced we would be very good friends." Lavinet gives a slow, languid blink, catlike and unconcerned. "I do not believe," she says slowly, "that our rooms at the Shepherds' compound are what you are used to in terms of being received. Or entertained." Klaud's lips curl up even further. "I am not so delicate as you might believe, my lady. I require very little when it comes to... venue... in order to be entertained. But I will take the hint. I shall await making better acquaintance with you at a more apt occasion... but trust that the waiting will be done with the utmost impatience." He bows, and she nods in assent. The silent cousin bows as well, casts you a long, lingering glance, and then the two of them turn and make their way out of the salon. <<nobr>><<if ($gender is "male") and ($lavinetromanceflag >= 10)>> You don't fail to notice, however, that Klaud shoots you a look of pointed dislike just before he disappears through the front door. <</if>><</nobr>> You and Lavinet remain quiet as your waiter fortuitously arrives and takes your orders. Knowing that your every move and gesture could be watched, you order tea as well as... <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">A tray of delicate, savory finger sandwiches to share.</div>' 'lavinet_discuss_men'>><<setlavinet +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">A dressed salad of pea shoots, walnuts, sugared gapes, and white sheep's cheese.</div>' 'lavinet_discuss_men'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">A bowl of velvety white soup glistening with shellfish and cream.</div>' 'lavinet_discuss_men'>><<setcharisma -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">A dish of cold potatoes, herbs, and paper-thin raw vegetables.</div>' 'lavinet_discuss_men'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">A light and airy slice of chocolate cake almost as insubstantial as air.</div>' 'lavinet_discuss_men'>><<setriel +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">A colorful platter of sweet pastries, scones, and petit fours.</div>' 'lavinet_discuss_men'>><<setriel +1>><<setshery +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

When all is settled, you turn to Lavinet with your eyebrows raised. "What was <i>that</i> all about?" Lavinet gives a sigh, with a feigned air of courtly annoyance that you're used to by now. "Holst and his cousin? He was being a bit unseemly, that's all. Approaching and interrupting us without an introduction, and then making those insinuations—as if I would ever receive him alone, let alone in my present circumstances! He was making an attempt at courtship, but he made quite the hash of it. Arrogant man. I hear he's a rake, so that explains things, but acting as if <i>I'd</i> be receptive to it... he assumes much!" She shakes her head. "He probably believes I'm some provincial who'd be desperate to throw myself in his way, if only for his connections." <<nobr>><<if ($aro is true) or ($aroace is true) or ($attractedto is "men")>> Her annoyed look increases further as she takes a moody (but elegant) sip of her tea. It seems her attempts to forget the very problems that drove her to this salon aren't going so swimmingly... at least so far. <br><br> <<include "lavinet_courting_question">> <<else>> Her annoyed look increases further for a brief moment; then she glances at you. All at once, her expression becomes more sly as she takes another sip of her tea. "His cousin, however... <i>he</i> was observing the proper etiquette. I daresay he seemed quite interested in you." <br><br> You let out an incredulous laugh. "The black-haired one? He didn't even say a word to me." <br><br> "<i>That's</i> the old-fashioned way of doing it," Lavinet says with some satisfaction. "He can't converse directly with you until I arrange for the two of you to meet again, perhaps at a party or some other sort of gathering. But it was evident in the way he looked at you. He found you attractive!" <br><br> You snort. <<include "lavinet_cousin_response">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"And so what? It's not as if anything could happen between us. He's a noble. I'd just be his Diminished plaything."</div>' 'autogenerated_68461'>><<setcompassionate -1>><<setloyal -1>><<setcunning +1>><<setcharisma -1>><</link>> <<if $lavinetromanceflag >= 5>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"And... that wouldn't bother you?" You were rather hoping she'd be jealous.</div>' 'autogenerated_68462'>><<set $lavinetromanceflag += 1>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Well, that's not surprising. I'm used to everyone finding me attractive."</div>' 'autogenerated_68463'>><<setlavinet +1>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I don't see how you could know that from that brief interaction. I really don't think he gave me the time of day."</div>' 'autogenerated_68464'>><<setcharisma -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Well, give me a signal next time. If I'd known that he was interested, I would have spoken with him more."</div>' 'wellgivemeasignalnexttime'>><<setcharisma +1>><<set $lavinetromanceflag to 0>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $lavinetromanceflag >= 3>> <<set $lavinetromanceflag -= 3>> <</if>><</nobr>>"<i>Well</i>," Lavinet says in admonishing tones. "I don't think that's necessarily true. The younger generation is more open to these things than you'd think. It <i>is</i> possible for a Norm—even a noble Norm—and a Diminished to genuinely fall in love, you know." <<include 'lavinet_courting_question'>>

Lavinet's lips quirk a little. "Why ever should it?" she asks, taking a casual, airy sip of her tea. "You're free to do as you please. All is fair in love and war, of course." <<include 'lavinet_courting_question'>>

Lavinet laughs. "Yes," she says, amused, "I daresay you are. Though I think coquetry is even more attractive than ego—at least in my circles. You can know you're beautiful, darling, but don't let them think you think too much of yourself." <<include 'lavinet_courting_question'>>

Lavinet shrugs. "If you say so, darling. But I consider myself quite the expert at these things. I have a nose for courtship and matchmaking." "Was it thanks to you that Clara and Pendric got together?" "...Well, no, but only because she's exceptional at hiding her feelings from everyone, including me. But I have helped many of my other friends fall in love with each other." <<include 'lavinet_courting_question'>>

<<nobr>><<if ($highestromance is "blade") and ($bladeromanceflag >= 20) and ($bladeromance is false)>> Lavinet's eyes widen. "Point taken, darling! I had no idea that <i>you</i> would be interested. I'll have to make sure word never gets back to our poor lovestruck commander." <br><br> At your sputtered protests, however, she merely smirks mischievously and changes the subject so deftly that you hardly remember the comment even happened. <br><br> <<include "lavinet_courting_question">> <<elseif ($highestromance is "trouble") and ($troubleromanceflag >= 20) and ($troubleromance is false)>> Lavinet's eyes widen. "Point taken, darling! I had no idea that <i>you</i> would be interested. I have to make sure word never gets back to our poor lovestruck vice-commander." <br><br> At your sputtered protests, however, she merely smirks mischievously and changes the subject so deftly that you hardly remember the comment even happened. <br><br> <<include "lavinet_courting_question">> <<elseif ($highestromance is "tallys") and ($tallysromanceflag >= 20) and ($tallyssex is true) and ($tallysromance is false)>> Lavinet's eyes widen. "Point taken, darling! I had no idea that <i>you</i> would be interested. I know you and Tallys aren't exclusive, but I don't know how you do it. It seems very cosmopolitan, even for me!" She shakes her head slowly. "I daresay I'll have to make sure word never gets back to her—I suspect it'd give her more reason to dislike me than she already has." <br><br> At your sputtered protests, however, she merely smirks mischievously and changes the subject so deftly that you hardly remember the comment even happened. <br><br> <<include "lavinet_courting_question">> <<elseif ($highestromance is "shery") and ($sheryromanceflag >= 15) and ($sheryromance is false)>> Lavinet's eyes widen. "Point taken, darling! I had no idea that <i>you</i> would be interested. I'll have to make sure word never gets back to our poor lovestruck quartermaster." <br><br> At your sputtered protests, however, she merely smirks mischievously and changes the subject so deftly that you hardly remember the comment even happened. <br><br> <<include "lavinet_courting_question">> <<elseif ($highestromance is "riel") and ($rielromanceflag >= 15) and ($rielromance is false)>> Lavinet's eyes widen. "Point taken, darling! I had no idea that <i>you</i> would be interested. I'll have to make sure word never gets back to poor Riel..." <br><br> At your sputtered protests, however, she merely smirks mischievously and changes the subject so deftly that you hardly remember the comment even happened. <br><br> <<include "lavinet_courting_question">> <<elseif ($highestromance is "chase") and ($chaseromanceflag >= 20) and ($chasesex is true) and ($chaseromance is false)>> Lavinet's eyes widen. "Point taken, darling! I had no idea that <i>you</i> would be interested. I know you and Chase aren't exclusive, but I don't know how you do it. It seems very cosmopolitan, even for me!" She shakes her head slowly. "Still, from what I can see, I think I should still make sure word doesn't get back to him. I can't imagine he'd be too happy..." <br><br> At your sputtered protests, however, she merely smirks mischievously and changes the subject so deftly that you hardly remember the comment even happened. <br><br> <<include "lavinet_courting_question">> <<elseif ($highestromance is "red") and ($redromanceflag >= 15) and ($redromance is false)>> Lavinet's eyes widen. "Point taken, darling! I had no idea that <i>you</i> would be interested. I'll have to make sure word never gets back to poor Red..." <br><br> At your sputtered protests, however, she merely smirks mischievously and changes the subject so deftly that you hardly remember the comment even happened. <br><br> <<include "lavinet_courting_question">> <<elseif ($highestromance is "ayla") and ($aylaromanceflag >= 15) and ($aylaromance is false)>> Lavinet's eyes widen. "Point taken, darling! I had no idea that <i>you</i> would be interested. I'll have to make sure word never gets back to poor Ayla..." <br><br> At your sputtered protests, however, she merely smirks mischievously and changes the subject so deftly that you hardly remember the comment even happened. <br><br> <<include "lavinet_courting_question">> <<elseif ($highestromance is "briony") and ($brionyromanceflag >= 15) and ($brionyromance is false)>> Lavinet's eyes widen. "Point taken, darling! I had no idea that <i>you</i> would be interested. I'll have to make sure word never gets back to poor Briony..." <br><br> At your sputtered protests, however, she merely smirks mischievously and changes the subject so deftly that you hardly remember the comment even happened. <br><br> <<include "lavinet_courting_question">> <<elseif $numberofromances >= 1>> Lavinet's eyes widen. "But what about..." Then she shakes her head with a tight smile. "...Never mind. None of my business, I suppose." <br><br> <<include "lavinet_courting_question">> <<else>> Lavinet's eyes widen. "Point taken, darling! I had no idea that <i>you</i> would be interested." Then she looks mischievous. "Perhaps I'll have to arrange that meeting, after all..." <br><br> <<include "lavinet_courting_question">> <</if>><</nobr>>

A little later in the conversation, you ask her: "Are you courted like that often?" Lavinet tosses you an amused glance, as if to say, <i>Do you need to ask?</i> "Of course," she says, taking another sip of her tea. "But I shan't settle for any pretty man who can buy me flowers. Otherwise I would have accepted Auberon Eddon and saved us all a lot of trouble. But I'm on the lookout for so much <i>more</i>." "Such as?" you ask, taking your own sip of the savory, floral tea. Lavinet idly runs a gloved finger along the rim of her china cup. "The man I fall in love with must be truly gallant, I think, and not simply a fawner or a flatterer for gain. He must have strong moral values, a sense of duty, justice, chivalry, and compassion for others; I could not abide a husband who was cruel or selfish. I'd want him to be a leader, even if it was in other ways other than being the heir of an estate. He needn't be involved in politics, but he ought to be intelligent, and emotionally-sensitive, and perceptive to the undercurrents of a conversation without being totally oblivious or needing me to point everything out to him. I'd want him to be my partner in every way, you see. I'd enjoy if it if he was honest—at least always to <i>me</i>. Handsome and athletic, of course, are always bonuses, but they only follow everything else in terms of priority. And, of course, he ought to be a romantic, and adore me utterly. In short, I won't ever marry a man who's vain, stupid, silly, cruel, callous, humorless, cowardly, or insensitive." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I imagine those qualities are hard to find among the nobility."</div>' 'autogenerated_68465'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I think your standards are unrealistic, or at least idealistic. No one's that perfect."</div>' 'autogenerated_68466'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"That makes total sense. I don't think those qualifications are unreasonable at all."</div>' 'autogenerated_68467'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"And what if you never find anyone who meets those standards? What will you do then?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68468'>><</link>> <<if $lavinetromanceflag >= 10>><<link '<div class="choice-item">You can't help but feel a bit daunted. Does she see any of that in you?</div>' 'autogenerated_68469'>><<set $lavinetromanceflag += 1>><</link>><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

Lavinet gives a short laugh. "Yes, surprisingly so. Most men I've encountered in court are either silly fops who can think only of having as many affairs as possible; it is essentially their business and life's purpose. I don't begrudge them that, but I can't take them seriously. Others are cold and calculating and ambitious, only evaluating their future wives as they might assess prospective chattel. Still others can be loyal, but dim and nervous and complacent, meekly led by their wives and cowering when given any greater responsibility than enjoying their glass of whiskey and a cigar after dinner. Finally, some are brash and misogynistic; they won't hear of their lover or wife riding split-saddle, or fighting with a lance, or making her voice heard in court. None, you see, are very ideal situations." <<include 'lavinet_love_discussion'>>

"Yes, I have been told that," Lavinet says with a sigh. "My father outright told me that I ask for the impossible. But I refuse to settle for any less. If that proves to be impossible, so be it." <<include 'lavinet_love_discussion'>>

Lavinet smiles. "I'm glad you think so. For some reason, many people in my life believe I ask for the impossible. But I refuse to settle for any less. If that proves to be impossible, so be it." <<include 'lavinet_love_discussion'>>

Lavinet shrugs lightly. "I will never marry, and I will make myself a powerful spinster and a beloved aunt. Many noblewomen—although many of them were widows—have done the same." <<include 'lavinet_love_discussion'>>

Lavinet meets your gaze and, after a long period of silence, says curiously, "A lyss for your thoughts, <<c firstname>>." You stir. "Just... thinking. You have a right to have your standards, of course, but..." Lavinet's lips quirk a little. "...But you wonder if I give allowances for my future husband to be human?" she finishes. "Of course I do. I know that no one is <i>perfect</i>. I know we will quarrel, or be irritated by little habits, or he may be unfashionable or awkward in some way. But when confronted with the choices I've been given so far, I've <i>had</i> to form these opinions. Otherwise I would have settled for far less a long time ago." <<include 'lavinet_love_discussion'>>

"You place quite a lot of stock in the concept of true love," you observe. Lavinet makes a little gesture of agreement. "I do. I suppose part of it has to do with being raised on a diet of romance novels, love plays, and court romances—it was the food of our conversation and the object of much of our collective interest as I grew up. I don't suppose I could have simply <i>not</i> cared about it. Especially in a world rife with unhappy arranged marriages and shallow dalliances and ruinous scandals, filled with lies and adultery. But I admit I am even more of a romantic than some others." She trails off for a moment, then adds in a quieter, more subdued voice, "There is also, of course, the matter of my birth mother. She divorced my father when I was young, you see. The circumstances around it were very mysterious—and, as a result, the topic of much speculation and scandal for our neighbors and fellow courtiers—but, in short, she claimed some wrongdoing or unhappiness caused by my father and ran away from the estate without another word. Not a goodbye nor warning to me, nor any attempt to bring me along—not that I would have wanted to go. But no avenue of reconciliation with my father, either. And a few months later, she had already remarried a younger man up North. A childhood friend of hers, of course." There's a long pause. "Theirs was an arranged marriage, too: my parents, I mean. Except I know my father was deeply in love with her. My mother, sadly, did not seem to feel the same." The table is quiet for another moment as Lavinet takes a last sip of her tea. "Of course, everything turned out well in the end," she continues airily. "My father remarried my stepmother, Lady Estora. <i>That</i> was a bit of a scandal, too, for she'd been a former friend of my mother's—but anyway, the marriage resulted in my sisters, and my stepmother and I were far closer to each other than Edaline and I had ever been. Estora loved my father, truly and well, and had for years—and I think that was why she loved me, too." Finally she looks up at you with a bright smile, seeming to want to change the subject. "And you?" she asks lightly. "How do you feel about the topic of true love? Surely you must have your own standards when it comes to your lifelong partner." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $aro is true or $aroace is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"To be honest, I couldn't care less about it. I've never felt the desire for romantic love, nor felt it myself. Platonic and familial love are much more important to me."</div>' 'autogenerated_68470'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Oh, I have no standards at all. Haha."</div>' 'autogenerated_68471'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I think I have normal standards and preferences. Just... normal things you'd look for in a partner."</div>' 'autogenerated_68472'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Like you, I have extremely high standards. I won't open myself up for or fall in love with just anybody."</div>' 'autogenerated_68473'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I don't really think about it, nor have this set image in my head. I'm content with just waiting to see what happens."</div>' 'autogenerated_68474'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Deep down, I'd like to fall in love, but for some reason, I'm afraid of it. Like I'm not worthy of it, or something will come along and ruin it."</div>' 'autogenerated_68475'>><<set $traumatized += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm indifferent to matters of love."</div>' 'autogenerated_68476'>><</link>> <<if $ace is false and $aroace is false>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I only care about sex, not love. I don't want a long-term partner or a relationship at all."</div>' 'autogenerated_68477'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $lavinetromanceflag >= 10>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Change the subject. "I think I've already found what I'm looking for, to be honest. And on that topic, how would you best like to be courted?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68478'>><<set $lavinetromanceflag += 10>><<setcharisma +5>><<setcourage +1>><<setlavinet +5>><<set $lavinetstatus to "You seem to be engaged in an intriguing flirtation.">><</link>><</if>> <<if $aro is false and $aroace is false>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"To be honest, it's always been different. I don't think I have a 'type.'"</div>' 'autogenerated_68479'>><</link>><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $lavinetromanceflag >= 5>> <<set $lavinetromanceflag to 0>> <</if>><</nobr>> Lavinet nods slowly. "I see. That makes sense. I suppose you must think my preoccupation with the whole thing a bit silly, then." She tilts her head thoughtfully, thinking through the matter. "To me, family is one thing—and I do love my family—but when you have familial relations all across the Continent, some of whom count among your enemies or rivals, the meaning of it all starts to feel a bit... diluted. Also, nobles tend to use their own family members as chess pieces, pawns, and assets for their own legacies, so there is something more selfish and complicated about it at times. And friends..." She shrugs. "In the Winter Court, there are very few people you can trust as true friends. Every acquaintance must be examined for an ulterior motive, some way they could be manipulating, using, or betraying you in secret. Every smile could be false, every compliment or confidence calculated. I suppose that's why I place so much stock and hope in a romantic partner. True love, if it can be found, seems more bullet-proof. The only person you could reasonably, truly trust." Then she shakes her head. "But that's my personal experience only, of course. It's very interesting to hear about yours." <<include 'lavinet_standards'>>

<<nobr>><<if $lavinetromanceflag >= 5>> <<set $lavinetromanceflag to 0>> <</if>><</nobr>> Lavinet gives you a slightly incredulous look, which you meet with a bland smile. "Darling..." Then she shakes her head with a sigh. "...Never mind. I can see already that you'll do as you will..." <<include 'lavinet_standards'>>

"Like compatibility," you hazard. "We'd have to get along well, obviously." Lavinet nods seriously. "That is essential, of course. But what do you think is the most important personal quality in a partner? What instantly catches your attention when you find someone attractive?" <<include 'lavinet_qualities'>>

<<nobr>><<if $lavinetromanceflag >= 3>> <<set $lavinetromanceflag += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> Lavinet nods seriously. "I'm glad we're in agreement on this, darling! What do you think is the most important personal quality in a partner? What instantly catches your attention when you find someone attractive?" <<include 'lavinet_qualities'>>

Lavinet nods seriously. "I wish I could be as easygoing as you. I find this particular topic occupies my thoughts far more than I would like..." <<include 'lavinet_standards'>>

Lavinet looks at you with sudden sympathy, then lays her gloved hand briefly on top of yours. "Oh, <<c firstname>>," she says in a low voice. "I don't think I can say much to help—you must think me terribly sheltered, for I know I haven't gone through the things you have... But you <i>are</i> worthy of love. You are loved even now. Deeply and truly. And one day, when you find the person you'll spend your life with... that love will be so strong and worthwhile that nothing could ruin it." A waiter passes, and she draws her hand away from yours. But she holds your eyes with a smile. "Until then, you do have us. And we're not going anywhere. I promise." <<include 'lavinet_standards'>>

<<nobr>><<if $lavinetromanceflag >= 1>> <<set $lavinetromanceflag to 0>> Lavinet's smile doesn't waver, but something about it suddenly seems false and forced, nevertheless. She gives a careless kind of laugh. "I see! I wish I could feel the same unconcern as you." <<else>> Lavinet smiles ruefully. "Perhaps I should emulate your unconcern. I find this particular topic occupies my thoughts far more than I would like..." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'lavinet_standards'>>

<<nobr>><<if $lavinetromanceflag >= 1>> <<set $lavinetromanceflag to 0>> <<set $lavinetromanceflag -= 10>> <<setlavinet -15>> Lavinet's smile doesn't waver, but something about it suddenly seems false and forced, nevertheless. "I see! Then I think you would make a wonderful courtier." <<else>> Lavinet snorts. "I see. Then perhaps you are more of a courtier than I..." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'lavinet_standards'>>

Lavinet looks startled by your comment for just the briefest instant—and then a new expression crosses her face, one that's simultaneously sly, mischievous, and pleased. Arranging her skirts, she says lightly, "I think me telling you outright would make it far too easy, darling. Judging from what you know of me, what do you think is my preference when it comes to courtship?" <<include 'lavinetcourtship'>>

Lavinet's interest sharpens at that. "Really? But you have fallen in love before?" <<include 'lavinetlovehistory'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Beauty and physical attraction."</div>' 'autogenerated_68480'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Style and upkeep."</div>' 'autogenerated_68481'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Chemistry and intimacy."</div>' 'autogenerated_68482'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Morals and convictions."</div>' 'autogenerated_68483'>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Kindness and compassion."</div>' 'autogenerated_68484'>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Intelligence and curiosity."</div>' 'autogenerated_68485'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Maturity and wisdom."</div>' 'autogenerated_68486'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Charm and charisma."</div>' 'autogenerated_68487'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Humor and playfulness."</div>' 'autogenerated_68488'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Courage and leadership."</div>' 'autogenerated_68489'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Cunning and wit."</div>' 'autogenerated_68490'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Strength and reliability."</div>' 'autogenerated_68491'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Responsibility and duty."</div>' 'autogenerated_68492'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Passion and determination."</div>' 'autogenerated_68493'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Empathy and sensitivity."</div>' 'autogenerated_68494'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Honesty and communication."</div>' 'autogenerated_68495'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Confidence and self-ease."</div>' 'autogenerated_68496'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Independence and uniqueness."</div>' 'autogenerated_68497'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Respect and support."</div>' 'autogenerated_68498'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Affection and openness."</div>' 'autogenerated_68499'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Frankly, I'm interested in unusual qualities in a partner..."</div>' 'autogenerated_68500'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $lavinetromanceflag >= 10>> <<set $lavinetromanceflag -= 1>> Lavinet gives a long sigh. "Yes," she says in an oddly resigned voice. "Of course. That would be most people's answer, I think." <<else>> Lavinet's lips twitch. "Of course. I'm sure that's the common answer." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'lavinet_standards'>>

Lavinet laughs in agreement. "Yes, someone slovenly or unhygienic isn't the most appealing, are they?" She sighs dreamily. "People who dress well and care about their appearance <i>are</i> very attractive..." <<include 'lavinet_standards'>>

Lavinet laughs. "Yes, I suppose that's very important. But how do you go about gauging such a thing? In my circles, the only way to test your chemistry with someone involves doing things that others would perceive as scandalous..." <<include 'lavinet_standards'>>

Lavinet looks at you with interest. "Really? Tell me more..." <<include 'lavinet_standards'>>

<<nobr>><<if $highestromance is "shery">> Lavinet hides a smirk behind her teacup. "Really, darling, I do wish you'd be a tad less obvious... You're positively smitten!" <<else>> Lavinet looks at you with interest. "Really? Tell me more..." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'lavinet_standards'>>

<<nobr>><<if $highestromance is "red" or $highestromance is "riel">> Lavinet hides a smirk behind her teacup. "Really, darling, I do wish you'd be a tad less obvious... You're positively smitten!" <<else>> Lavinet makes a humming sound of agreement. "Yes, I couldn't bear the thought of being with a dullard for the rest of my life..." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'lavinet_standards'>>

<<nobr>><<if $highestromance is "tallys">> Lavinet hides a smirk behind her teacup. "Really, darling, I do wish you'd be a tad less obvious... You're positively smitten!" <<else>> Lavinet looks at you with interest. "Really? Tell me more..." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'lavinet_standards'>>

<<nobr>><<if $lavinetromanceflag >= 10>> <<set $lavinetromanceflag += 1>> Lavinet pats her hair down. "Indeed? How very interesting..." <<else>> Lavinet makes a thoughtful humming sound. "Truly? Tell me more. I'm always torn on this—I don't believe I'd like someone who couldn't hold a conversation, but personal experience has made me wary of charmers..." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'lavinet_standards'>>

<<nobr>><<if $highestromance is "chase">> Lavinet hides a smirk behind her teacup. "Really, darling, I do wish you'd be a tad less obvious... You're positively smitten!" <<else>> Lavinet laughs. "That's a unique one! Tell me more..." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'lavinet_standards'>>

<<nobr>><<if $highestromance is "blade" or $highestromance is "trouble">> Lavinet hides a smirk behind her teacup. "Really, darling, I do wish you'd be a tad less obvious... You're positively smitten!" <<else>> Lavinet leans forward eagerly. "Yes, that's exactly how I feel! There's just something so dashing about someone brave, someone who takes charge..." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'lavinet_standards'>>

<<nobr>><<if $lavinetromanceflag >= 10>> <<set $lavinetromanceflag += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> Lavinet pats her hair down. "Indeed? How very interesting..." <<include 'lavinet_standards'>>

Lavinet sighs dreamily. "I totally agree. Tell me more..." <<include 'lavinet_standards'>>

Lavinet looks at you with interest. "Really? Tell me more..." <<include 'lavinet_standards'>>

<<nobr>><<if $highestromance is "briony">> Lavinet hides a smirk behind her teacup. "Really, darling, I do wish you'd be a tad less obvious... You're positively smitten!" <<else>> Lavinet looks at you with interest. "Really? Tell me more..." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'lavinet_standards'>>

Lavinet nods sagely. "I totally agree. Tell me more..." <<include 'lavinet_standards'>>

<<nobr>><<if $highestromance is "ayla">> Lavinet hides a smirk behind her teacup. "Really, darling, I do wish you'd be a tad less obvious... You're positively smitten!" <<else>> Lavinet looks at you with interest. "Really? Tell me more..." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'lavinet_standards'>>

"Oh, yes, that's one of the most important aspects," Lavinet agrees eagerly. "Respect is the food of love, after all: without it, nothing can grow between you." <<include 'lavinet_standards'>>

"Really? How interesting," Lavinet muses. "I haven't quite thought of that aspect before..." <<include 'lavinet_standards'>>

Lavinet's brow quirks up. "Oh?" <<include 'lavinetunusualqualities'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I like the ones who are disasters. Their life is a total mess."</div>' 'autogenerated_68501'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I like aloof, unattainable types. Something about the chase..."</div>' 'autogenerated_68502'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I like them ruthless. Willing to do whatever it takes. Even if it means burning everything down."</div>' 'autogenerated_68503'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I like crazy. Just totally cuckoo."</div>' 'autogenerated_68504'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I like them mean. The crueler, the better."</div>' 'autogenerated_68505'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I like them totally pathetic. Just worthless sad sacks."</div>' 'autogenerated_68506'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $chasesex is true>> Lavinet gives you a long stare. "That... begins to make things a little clearer..." <<else>> Lavinet gives you a long stare. "Darling..." Then she shakes her head with a sigh. "...Never mind. I can see already that you'll do as you will..." <</if>><</nobr>> --> lavinet_standards <<include ''>>

<<nobr>><<if $lavinetromanceflag >= 10>> <<set $lavinetromanceflag += 1>> Lavinet looks briefly calculating. "I see..." <<else>> Lavinet's lips twitch slightly. "I can't deny that I don't see the appeal," she concedes. "Though I can't argue how <i>healthy</i> it is..." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'lavinet_standards'>>

<<nobr>><<if $lavinetromanceflag >= 10>> <<set $lavinetharden += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> Lavinet makes a humming sound. "Oh? How very interesting..." <<include 'lavinet_standards'>>

Lavinet gives you a long stare. "Darling..." Then she shakes her head with a sigh. "...Never mind. I can see already that you'll do as you will..." <<include 'lavinet_standards'>>

<<nobr>><<if $prihineromance is true>> Lavinet looks off into the distance. "That... begins to make things a little clearer..." <<else>> Lavinet gives you a long stare. "Darling..." Then she shakes her head with a sigh. "...Never mind. I can see already that you'll do as you will..." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'lavinet_standards'>>

Lavinet rolls her eyes. "Darling, it was a serious question, not a joke! But fine—if that's your answer, I shan't press you on it further." <<include 'lavinet_standards'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Poetry. You're a woman to be wooed by compliments and words."</div>' 'autogenerated_68507'>><<set $lavinetromanceflag += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Gestures. You want love to be proved through actions, chivalry, and consideration."</div>' 'autogenerated_68508'>><<set $lavinetromanceflag += 3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Gifts. You want to be spoiled and doted upon."</div>' 'autogenerated_68509'>><<set $lavinetromanceflag += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Public declarations. You want everyone to know you're the object of your paramour's eye, and no other."</div>' 'autogenerated_68510'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Service. You want to be protected and supported."</div>' 'autogenerated_68511'>><<set $lavinetromanceflag += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Patience. You want to chase the object of your affections, not the other way around."</div>' 'autogenerated_68512'>><<set $lavinetromanceflag -= 5>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Lavinet smiles, seeming pleased. "Perhaps. I suppose there's only one way to find out the truth, no?" But you notice, as you continue the conversation, that even as she seems to lean back in her chair and seemingly away from you, you feel the discreet brush of her skirt or her ankle against your leg for the rest of your time at the tea parlor. <<include 'lavinet_standards'>>

Lavinet tips her head consideringly. "Hmm. Perhaps." But as she deftly turns the subject back to you, you wonder if your answer was quite correct. <<include 'lavinet_standards'>>

Lavinet's smile is thin and chilly. "That's an interesting guess, but not the correct one." Then she deftly turns the subject to you—though the warmth of her regard, you think, has receded just a little. <<include 'lavinet_standards'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Only once before. But it wasn't meant to be."</div>' 'autogenerated_68513'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"It's happened a few times."</div>' 'autogenerated_68514'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Of course. I've had many loves and many kinds of relationships."</div>' 'autogenerated_68515'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm sorry. I don't want to talk about it."</div>' 'autogenerated_68516'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I don't know if it was ever the 'true love' you're talking about. Just crushes or attractions or relationships that were never going to end in something like marriage."</div>' 'autogenerated_68517'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm in love <i>now</i>. I think it's the first time I've felt this way about someone."</div>' 'autogenerated_68518'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Lavinet sighs longingly as you tell her the story. But when you ask her the same question, she says wistfully, "I fancied myself in love once or twice, but it was only ever silly girlhood crushes or physical attractions. I'm old enough to know the difference now." She smiles ruefully. "So, so far—the answer is no." <<include 'lavinet_standards'>>

Lavinet nods seriously. "Of course. I would never want to pry." You glance up at her. "Have you ever fallen in love?" She sighs wistfully. "I fancied myself in love once or twice, but it was only ever silly girlhood crushes or physical attractions. I'm old enough to know the difference now." She smiles ruefully. "So, so far—the answer is no." <<include 'lavinet_standards'>>

"That's exactly the same with me!" Lavinet exclaims. "I fancied myself in love once or twice, but it was only ever silly girlhood crushes or physical attractions. I'm old enough to know the difference now." <<include 'lavinet_standards'>>

<<nobr>><<if $lavinetromanceflag < 10 or $highestromance != "lavinet">> Lavinet looks delighted. "Really? Tell me more, I beg you!" <<else>> Lavinet takes a long, considering sip of her drink, watching you from beneath her lashes. "Really?" she murmurs, a slight smile curling her lips. "I don't think I should ask further. Either the answer will incite my jealousy, or it will puncture a mystery that ought to linger a bit longer..." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'lavinet_standards'>>

<<nobr>><<if $lavinetstatus is not "You seem to be engaged in an intriguing flirtation.">><<set $lavinetstatus to "She's protective of your reputation.">><</if>><</nobr>>You talk for a while longer, lingering over your tea, the excellent food, and the pleasant atmosphere of the salon. The hours pass at a leisurely, easy pace, but as you begin to wrap up your visit, you glance up and notice a young lady sitting at another table, staring at you table and hurriedly scribbling into a small notepad in a manner that's obviously meant to be discreet. She instantly looks away when you catch her glance, and Lavinet, noticing your frown, turns her head to look as well. "Ignore her," she tells you in an undertone, turning back around and signaling a waiter for the bill. "She's a gossip columnist, come here to observe the goings-on of Haven's important figures, that's all." You glance back at her. "But doesn't that mean we'll be written about in the next scandal sheet?" You haven't done anything scandalous, but these circulated pamphlets have become all the rage when it comes to picking up on the social tittle-tattle of Haven... and it might impact Lavinet's reputation to be seen with you in this manner, at least among the readers of the scandal sheet. Lavinet shrugs. "I suppose so. But there's no helping that, is there? And it's not as if we've given her anything to really expound upon. We've done nothing wrong." You stare at her for a long moment, taking in all the facts: her nonchalance, her fine clothing, her new hair... "Lavinet," you say slowly, "did you <i>intend</i> for this to happen?" The noblewoman straightens in what seems to be genuine indignation. "Of course not! I didn't expect a scandalmonger to be here—a place like the Silk Pavilion really oughtn't let her ilk in here, not if they don't want to lose their clientele to more protected sanctuaries!" "But you knew there was the possibility of it?" you press. Lavinet doesn't look guilty, exactly, but she hesitates. Finally she admits, "Not the scandal sheet part of it, no. But I did think it was time we were seen together in public." "Why?" Lavinet regards you for a long, long moment. "Because," she begins slowly, "I refuse to be ashamed of you, <<c firstname>>, or of my association to the Shepherds. I am showing everyone who I am, that I refuse to change what I do or who I am friends with, and that they—this city—must accept me as-is, or not at all. I will not bend to their expectations." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"So you're using me to prove a point? Send a message? I'm just a prop in your marketing of yourself?"</div>' 'soyoureusingmejusttoproveapoint'>><<setlavinet -10>><<set $lavinetromanceflag -= 10>><<setcompassionate -3>><<setloyal -5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I appreciate the loyalty, Lavinet, but if you have ambitions to become a powerful politician, isn't this going to hurt you more than help?"</div>' 'iappreciatetheloyaltylavinet'>><<setlavinet +1>><<setcunning +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Is this still about that woman who gave you the cut? Berenene Verice?"</div>' 'isthisstillaboutberenene'>><<setcharisma -3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I see. If that's the case, I can only support you. Show them what you're made of."</div>' 'showthemwhatyouremadeoflavi'>><<setlavinet +3>><<setloyal +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"Of course not," Lavinet answers hotly. "You may think I'm only thinking of myself, <<c firstname>>, but it's not just about me. I am also showing them that they must afford you the respect and acceptance that <i>you</i> are due. <<include "lavinetexplanation">>

"That doesn't matter," Lavinet answers hotly. "And this may seem like a message only regarding myself, <<c firstname>>, but it's not just about me. I am also showing them that they must afford you the respect and acceptance that <i>you</i> are due. <<include "lavinetexplanation">>

"No," Lavinet answers hotly. "This may seem like a challenge only regarding myself, <<c firstname>>, but it's not just about me. I am also showing them that they must afford you the respect and acceptance that <i>you</i> are due. <<include "lavinetexplanation">>

Lavinet gifts you a slight smile before she turns serious again. "But it's not just about me, <<c firstname>>," she continues earnestly. "It is a challenge and a message regarding my own personality, yes, but I am also showing them that they must afford you the respect and acceptance that <i>you</i> are due. <<include "lavinetexplanation">>

I have not been in this city long, but I've seen enough to see that the way the citizens of Haven treat you is utterly unacceptable. You are criminally underappreciated when it comes to everything you've done. They must see that you will dine—with me or without me—wherever you please, and they must treat you as a <i>person</i>. A figure of respect and renown, to be accepted and welcomed wherever you go. Your presence in these kinds of places must be normalized; they must be forced to get used to it. No more allowing you to risk your life for their sakes, fighting Endarkened and shedding your blood, only for you to be barred from eating in the same establishment as them. These people have been too complacent with how they've treated the Shepherds. They're all too happy to let you risk it all to save their lives, but grimace at the idea of rubbing shoulders with you. No. I won't have it any longer. They will treat our officers as people and accord them the proper respect, or they shan't receive our services at all. I will not have you risking your life for ungrateful snobs." She sits back suddenly, her cheeks a bit flushed from her impassioned speech, and fans herself with another glower at the gossip columnist, who continues writing furiously, shameless. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You laugh. "And if they <i>don't</i> accept me? Do you propose to tell the Shepherds not to help the wealthy because they're snobs who don't treat us well?" </div>' 'autogenerated_68519'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You shake your head. "But that's what you don't understand, Lavinet. I don't want acknowledgment or recognition or fame. I just want to do my job and stay obscure. I don't care to dine in the same places as them, anyway."</div>' 'autogenerated_68520'>><<setloyal +5>><<setcunning -5>><<setcompassionate +5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You pat her hand. "It's a nice sentiment. I appreciate you using your status to lend credibility to my name. But it's not what I do this job for."</div>' 'autogenerated_68521'>><<setloyal +3>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setlavinet +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You smile at her. "Thank you. I had no idea I had such a fierce champion in my corner. You really care about us, don't you?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68522'>><<setlavinet +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You frown at her. "You still should have asked me if this is what I wanted. Now I'll never know if your overtures of friendship are sincere or serving some other purpose." </div>' 'autogenerated_68523'>><<setlavinet -10>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"Should we discriminate against them and only help the poor from now on?" you ask. <<nobr>><<if ($tallysequalist is true)>> You suddenly feel a note of deja vu: haven't you had a similar conversation with Tallys before? <</if>><</nobr>> Lavinet sighs heavily. "No, of course not. But that's why I'm focusing on making <i>them</i> change their behavior, not us. I'd rather train them to treat you the way you ought to be treated, rather than change our own policies in order to achieve justice and fairness." <<include 'lavinetthemomentisbroken'>>

Lavinet sighs. "I know," she says heavily. "But like it or not, <<c firstname>>, you are poised to become one of history's greats. You will have to think about your reputation in this way sooner or later. It will impact how well you can do your job, who you can recruit to the Shepherds' cause, who you can persuade to lend their resources or support to the Order. How well you can inspire others' confidence in you. I know <i>you</i> don't care about any of that, but at least allow me to. Any other way would be unjust." <<include 'lavinetthemomentisbroken'>>

Lavinet smiles and shakes her head ruefully. "I know," she says with a sigh. "You're terribly virtuous in that way, <<c firstname>>. But if you don't care about your reputation, at least allow <i>me</i> to do so. You deserve that much." <<include 'lavinetthemomentisbroken'>>

Lavinet gives you a slight, almost shy smile. "I do," she admits, almost with a tone of wonder. "And I feel… very protective of you. Do let me help you, <<c firstname>>. You are poised on the precipice of becoming one of history's greats—we can all feel it. And you are perfectly capable of handling things yourself, but… if there's any way I can help you, and guard your reputation as it deserves to be guarded… please allow me to do so." <<include 'lavinetthemomentisbroken'>>

<<nobr>><<if ($lavinetromanceflag >= 5)>> <<set $lavinetromanceflag -=5>> <</if>><</nobr>>Instantly, Lavinet looks dismayed—then contrite. "I am sorry," she murmurs, dipping her head in a sincere gesture of apology. "I… I didn't think of it that way. I'm used to simply—doing things my way, and expecting others to simply go along with it if it's with their interests in mind. That's how it was with Clara, and…" At your long stare, she falters, then continues in a subdued voice, "I'm sorry for my thoughtlessness. But my friendship <i>is</i> sincere, <<c firstname>>. I just… might have a strange way of going about it." An awkward silence falls over you at that, made even worse by the frantic scribblings of the gossip columnist still avidly watching your table. <<include 'lavinetthemomentisbroken'>>

The moment is broken by the waiter coming to settle your account. When he finally departs, Lavinet meets your eye as the both of you rise from your table. "You are not a pawn in my game, <<c firstname>>," she finishes quietly. "You are my friend and ally. I am probably not explaining myself very well, but I am only thinking of <<nobr>><<if ($lavinetromanceflag >= 15)>> your future—<i>our</i> future. <<else>> your future. <</if>><</nobr>> Using my privilege for good—using my status to elevate yours—is the only thing I can think to do to help. It's what I came to the Shepherds to do. Perhaps I let my passion overshadow my consideration, but this message we're sending together… it's not only about me. I'm not showing you off for my sake. I'm trying to help. I hope you can see that." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Nod and take her arm. "I understand, Lavinet. Then let's navigate this together."</div>' 'autogenerated_68524'>><<setlavinet +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Shrug. "Whatever you say."</div>' 'autogenerated_68525'>><<setlavinet -10>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Shake your head. "You still shouldn't have involved me without asking. This isn't something you can decide for the both of us, Lavinet." </div>' 'autogenerated_68526'>><<setlavinet -5>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if ($lavinetromanceflag >= 5)>> <<set $lavinetromanceflag +=1>> <</if>><</nobr>> She smile in clear relief. "Yes. Let's." <<include 'thetwoofyouleavethesalon'>>

Lavinet grimaces and looks away, clearly crestfallen by your skeptical response. <<include 'thetwoofyouleavethesalon'>>

She nods slowly, still contrite. "Of course. I understand." <<include 'thetwoofyouleavethesalon'>>

The two of you make to leave the salon, all the while accompanied by the rapt gaze of the columnist—and perhaps all the other tables in the establishment, too. Lavinet pauses before stepping over the threshold to the street outside, squaring her shoulders as if re-arming herself for battle. You wonder if her newfound sense of defiance will waver… but her expression remains resolute. The two of you step outside and take the long, winding walk back home. <<include "lavinetover">>

<<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "dayoff">><<set $lavinettime += 1>><</link>>

<<audio ":playing" fadeoverto 5 0>> <<if $mimirtime is 0>> <<include "firstmimir">> <<else>> [Sorry, this section is not yet complete.] <br><br> <<page_break "Next" "mimirfortunes">> <</if>>

Mimir regards you as you approach from across the courtyard, her silver eyes staring so implacably that you're not even totally sure she sees you. She says nothing as you take a seat across from her: she has so far refused to take a room in the main Shepherd headquarters and instead prefers to stay in this tent staked out in one of the least-used courtyards, more a tiny open square of free space than anything really functional. She says that she's more comfortable this way—that the noise of your dormitories and the double-vision she experiences around so many people make her feel tired and ill. Here, at least, she's commandeered a little piece of the compound that she can call all her own. "It's <<c firstname>>," she says after a moment, staring straight ahead as if she's addressing someone other than you. ""<<c she>>'d like to see my tools. <<c she>> <<if $plural is true>>want<<else>>wants<</if>> to have $her fortune told." <ul class="choices"> <<fake_choice '"Actually, Mimir, I just wanted to get to know you better."' 'ijustwantedtogettoknowyoubettermimir'>> <<fake_choice '"What kind of tools do you have?"' 'mimirstools'>> <<fake_choice 'You look around. "Who are you talking to?"' 'whoareyoutalkingtomimir'>> </ul>

"Another time," Mimir answers confidently. She indicates the purple, woven mat she has spread in front of her. <<include "mimirstools">>

If she hears you, Mimir gives no indication whatsoever. <<include "mimirstools">>

"These," she says, pointing to an array of ivory tea cups, cards, bone dice, and pale, milky crystals, "are focuses. They help channel my power... into clearer messages than the sea of ghosts I usually see." You nod slowly, surveying a collection of tiny animal statuettes. "I thought that you said you weren't a traditional Diviner?" you ask cautiously. <<if $specialization != "diviner">> "I've seen these tools being used by Scryers and Sages to cast their spells before." You glance at her inscrutable silver eyes. <<else>> "I know that Scryers and Sages use focuses like these to cast their spells." Privately, you've always thought such displays were a bit hokey in comparison to the more studious mirrors and scrying disks used in academia, but the point remains the same.<</if>> "But I was under the impression that your ability didn't work like that: that it's not exactly magic, but rather an inborn trait that you can't control." "Yes," Mimir agrees calmly. "Unlike traditional Mages, my ability is always present, always active... I do not 'work a spell' in order to activate it. It is there whether I will it or not." She shakes her head slowly, looking like a ghost herself under the shroud of her veil. "But there are horses that cannot be led through busy streets, lest the many sights overwhelm their senses and cause them to panic... Until they are given blinders, ways of looking only at a single fixed point. Then they can shut out the noise that doesn't matter to them, and peer for a time only at their specific goal. These are my... blinders. They give me a way to funnel my concentration in specific ways." That makes sense, in a way. "Did you teach yourself how to use these?" For the first time, Mimir frowns, looking vaguely down at the assortment of arcane objects in front of her. She absently caresses a large, polished human skull with a symbol of a black snake burned between its brows. "I don't remember," she admits. "These items must have come from somewhere," you note. "Were they given to you? Did you collect them?" Mimir stares at you. "I do not know." You sigh a little and nod, accepting this answer. You can't even imagine what it's like, never remembering the past and only barely perceiving the present. Although you seem to share some sort of kinship in how you were born, sometimes it seems as if Mimir got the short end of the stick. She's clearly more interested in using these tools to help you than discussing this, though, so you sit back, hands on your knees, and watch her work. <<page_break "Next" "mimirsfortunesexplain">>

"These," Mimir says, "are my best and most precise tools." She fans out a battered, richly purple deck of cards, of the kind typically used by cartomancers and fortune-tellers. "I use them as my main focus. With them, I can <span class="entrylink"><<link 'examine the strength of your bonds with others.'>><<run Dialog.setup("Tutorial"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("mimirsocial_tutorial").processText()); Dialog.open();>><</link>></span>" She directs your attention to a bag of bone dice. "Along with the cards, these help me <span class="entrylink"><<link 'channel the gods\' blessings,'>><<run Dialog.setup("Tutorial"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("mimirluck_tutorial").processText()); Dialog.open();>><</link>></span> telling me if they mean for you to receive some boon... though, as with all things that rely on chance, the methods used are imprecise and can sometimes backfire." Finally she indicates a pair of fine ivory teacups with rust-like stains at their bottoms. "The cups and cards tell me a specific story about you, <span class="entrylink"><<link 'to help provide guidance about your overall journey.'>><<run Dialog.setup("Tutorial"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("mimirfuture_tutorial").processText()); Dialog.open();>><</link>></span> But as you know, sometimes I see a path that you have not taken, or a path you may take in another lifetime... so what I see may be more helpful to you in another version of your story, a different passage from this one." She turns and regards you seriously. "What will you choose?" <<include "mimirfortunes">>

Mimir will examine the nature of your bonds with others, including your current closest friendship, romantic affiliation, and even rivalries and hatreds, flagging things in your social life that might need your attention. This reading is always accurate. <center> <<button 'Confirm'>><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>> </center>

Mimir may grant you a blessing, gifting a permanent boost to one of your traits. However, just like the capricious whims of the heavens themselves, there is a random chance that this reading might backfire and give you bad luck, leading to a small decrease in the trait instead. <center> <<button 'Confirm'>><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>> </center>

Mimir may provide an important hint or a piece of advice that could help you in this journey or another. However, she may also give you meaningless nonsense. It'll be up to you to piece her cryptic advice together and put it to good use, if at all. <center> <<button 'Confirm'>><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>> </center>

<center><span class="heading">Mimir's Fortune-Telling</span></center> <br> <div class="cardcontainer"> <div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/mimircard_social.png" alt="Bonds" class="card"><div class="cardtransitions"><div class="cardlink"><<link 'Bonds' 'mimir_social'>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">Bonds</span></center></div> <div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/mimircard_luck.png" alt="Blessing" class="card"><div class="cardtransitions"><div class="cardlink"><<link 'Blessing' 'mimir_luck'>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">Blessing</span></center></div> <div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/mimircard_fortune.png" alt="Guidance" class="card"><div class="cardtransitions"><div class="cardlink"><<link 'Guidance' 'mimir_future'>><<set $mimirfortune to random(1,50)>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">Guidance</span></center></div></div>

<<romancecalc>> <<friendshipcalc>> Mimir flips over an array of cards: most prominent among them are cards bearing <<if $highestfriendship is "blade">> a shadow <<elseif $highestfriendship is "trouble">> a chariot <<elseif $highestfriendship is "tallys">> a tree <<elseif $highestfriendship is "shery">> a butterfly <<elseif $highestfriendship is "riel">> a snake <<elseif $highestfriendship is "chase">> a dagger <<elseif $highestfriendship is "red">> a globe <<elseif $highestfriendship is "ayla">> a kite <<elseif $highestfriendship is "briony">> a star <<elseif $highestfriendship is "lavinet">> a mirror <<elseif $highestfriendship is "halek">> a falcon <<else>> an eye <</if>> <<if $highestromance is "blade">> and a knight. <<elseif $highestromance is "trouble">> and a sun. <<elseif $highestromance is "tallys">> and an hourglass. <<elseif $highestromance is "shery">> and a saintess. <<elseif $highestromance is "riel">> and a chess piece. <<elseif $highestromance is "chase">> and a key. <<elseif $highestromance is "red">> and a doorway. <<elseif $highestromance is "ayla">> and a whirlpool. <<elseif $highestromance is "briony">> and a cherry blossom. <<elseif $highestromance is "lavinet">> and a rose. <<elseif $highestromance is "halek">> and a broken chain. <<elseif $highestromance is "prihine">> and an opened cage. <<else>> and a halo. <</if>> <br><br> "Currently," Mimir announces, peering intently down at her cards, "your clearest friendship is the bond you share with <<c highestfriendship>>." <<if ($aroace is false and $aro is false and $highestromanceflag gt 0) or ($numberofromances gt 0)>> <br><br> Then she looks up. "And you currently have the strongest romantic affinity with <<print $highestromance.toUpperFirst()>>." She sorts through the cards for a moment, her lips moving faintly as she seems to count, before she adds, "A number that may bring fortune in this relationship is $highestromanceflag." <</if>> <<if $numberofhated is 1>> <br><br> She frowns. "You also have an enemy within our ranks, someone who resents you for a past misdeed, even if on the surface they seem cordial." <<elseif $numberofhated > 1>> <br><br> She frowns. "You also have a number of enemies, people who don't care for you or resent you for a past misdeed. You should take care not to upset the balance of this Order. The number of people you can trust is dwindling." <</if>> <br><br> <<page_break "Finish" "mimirfinish">>

Next, Mimir arranges several lengths of chains around on her mat, fastidiously situating small animal statuettes beside them to mark out whose is whose. Somehow, the patterns in the links sort of make sense to you. "Here's the strength of your bonds with each Shepherd. The shorter the chain, the more time you should spend with them if you hope to strengthen your relationship. The longer the chain, the closer you are to perfect unity." <<if $troubletime is 2 and $part >= 7>> <br><br> She tilts her head, tracing a break in one chain. "You might be wondering why you can no longer spend time with the sharpshooter, Trouble. Unfortunately, the river of time is a fast-flowing one, and connections can drift apart within the swift current before you realize you need to seize hold of them. Next time, I think, you should spend more time with him before Wallmire." <<elseif $bladetime is 4 and $part > 9>> She tilts her head, tracing a break in one chain. "You might be wondering why you can no longer spend time with the commander, Blade. Unfortunately, the river of time is a fast-flowing one, and connections can drift apart within the swift current before you realize you need to seize hold of them. Next time, I think, you should spend more time with him before the Sun Court." <<elseif $sherytime is 2 and $part >= 5>> <br><br> She blinks, indicating a break in one chain. "You might be wondering why you can no longer spend time with the quartermaster, Shery. Unfortunately, the river of time is a fast-flowing one, and connections can drift apart within the swift current before you realize you need to seize hold of them. Next time, I think, you should spend more time with her before Heth Macoll. Perhaps your elevation in rank, too, led to this division. You might have been able to spend more time with her as an officer." <<elseif (($halektime is 1) and ($part >= 8))>> She tilts her head, stroking a chain with a break in it. "You might be wondering why you can no longer spend time with the destined prince, Halek. Unfortunately, the river of time is a fast-flowing one, and connections can drift apart within the swift current before you realize you need to seize hold of them. Next time, I think, you should spend more time with him before your return from Wallmire." <<elseif $rieltime is 0 and $part is 7>> <br><br> She stares down at her mat, indicating a break in one chain. "If you want to deepen your bond with Riel Syndran, I recommend doing so as soon as possible. If you wait any longer, the swift river of time will pull the two of you apart, and then it will be too late." <<elseif $rieltime is 0 and $part gte 8>> <br><br> She stares down at her mat, indicating a break in one chain. "You might be wondering why you can't spend time with the merchant prince, Riel. It's not that he hates you: only that you weren't able to make time for each other before your paths diverged. It's too late now. But maybe next time." <</if>> <br><br> Falling silent, she stares into the middle distance for a while, as if she's forgotten your presence. <br><br> <<page_break "Finish" "mimirfinish">>

<<run Dialog.setup("Examine"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("drawmimircard").processText()); Dialog.open();>> After drawing your card, Mimir bids you to toss a handful of bone dice onto her purple mat, cupping the strange little objects in carefully both palms like they're knots of thorn and nettle. After several long moments, she slowly details exactly what you need to do in order to receive your blessing, describing a complicated ritual with several lucky items of the day that you'll need to procure... but her instructions seem very vague... <br><br> Before you rise to procure the frankly bizarre assortment of items that Mimir claims will draw the favor of the gods, she also informs you that offering a token oblation of gold might additionally help your chances. <br><br> You decide to offer <<numberbox "$offertory" 0>> gold. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "mimirluck_result">><<set $gold -= $offertory>><<if $offertory gte 50>><<set $mimirfortune to random(13,16)>><<elseif $offertory gte 20>><<set $mimirfortune to random(9,16)>><<elseif $offertory gte 10>><<set $mimirfortune to random(1,16)>><<else>><<set $mimirfortune to random(1,12)>><</if>> <<if $mimirfortune is 1>> <<setcourage +5>> <<elseif $mimirfortune is 2>> <<setcourage -5>> <<elseif $mimirfortune is 3>> <<setcharisma +5>> <<elseif $mimirfortune is 4>> <<setcharisma -5>> <<elseif $mimirfortune is 5>> <<setcunning +5>> <<elseif $mimirfortune is 6>> <<setcunning -5>> <<elseif $mimirfortune is 7>> <<setintelligence +5>> <<elseif $mimirfortune is 8>> <<setintelligence -5>> <<elseif $mimirfortune is 9>> <<setstrength +5>> <<elseif $mimirfortune is 10>> <<setstrength -5>> <<elseif $mimirfortune is 11>> <<setmagic +5>> <<elseif $mimirfortune is 12>> <<setmagic -5>> <<elseif $mimirfortune is 13>> <<setcourage +10>> <<elseif $mimirfortune is 14>> <<setcharisma +10>> <<elseif $mimirfortune is 15>> <<setcunning +10>> <<elseif $mimirfortune is 16>> <<setintelligence +10>> <</if>> <</link>></center>

<<if $mimirfortune is 1>> <<if settings.notifications>><<notify 5s>> +5 Nerves of Steel<</notify>><</if>> When you're done, you feel a powerful sense of wellbeing wash over you. Somehow, you feel as if something has changed... <<elseif $mimirfortune is 2>> <<if settings.notifications>><<notify 5s>> -5 Nerves of Steel<</notify>><</if>> When you're done, you feel nothing but a thin, weak flicker of nervousness or dread. Somehow, you get the creeping sense that something has gone wrong... <<elseif $mimirfortune is 3>> <<if settings.notifications>><<notify 5s>> +5 Silver Tongue<</notify>><</if>> When you're done, you feel a powerful sense of wellbeing wash over you. Somehow, you feel as if something has changed... <<elseif $mimirfortune is 4>> <<if settings.notifications>><<notify 5s>> -5 Silver Tongue<</notify>><</if>> When you're done, you feel nothing but a thin, weak flicker of nervousness or dread. Somehow, you get the creeping sense that something has gone wrong... <<elseif $mimirfortune is 5>> <<if settings.notifications>><<notify 5s>> +5 Razor Wits<</notify>><</if>> When you're done, you feel a powerful sense of wellbeing wash over you. Somehow, you feel as if something has changed... <<elseif $mimirfortune is 6>> <<if settings.notifications>><<notify 5s>> -5 Razor Wits<</notify>><</if>> When you're done, you feel nothing but a thin, weak flicker of nervousness or dread. Somehow, you get the creeping sense that something has gone wrong... <<elseif $mimirfortune is 7>> <<if settings.notifications>><<notify 5s>> +5 Bright Mind<</notify>><</if>> When you're done, you feel a powerful sense of wellbeing wash over you. Somehow, you feel as if something has changed... <<elseif $mimirfortune is 8>> <<if settings.notifications>><<notify 5s>> -5 Bright Mind<</notify>><</if>> When you're done, you feel nothing but a thin, weak flicker of nervousness or dread. Somehow, you get the creeping sense that something has gone wrong... <<elseif $mimirfortune is 9>> <<if settings.notifications>><<notify 5s>> +5 Physique<</notify>><</if>> When you're done, you feel a powerful sense of wellbeing wash over you. Somehow, you feel as if something has changed... <<elseif $mimirfortune is 10>> <<if settings.notifications>><<notify 5s>> -5 Physique<</notify>><</if>> When you're done, you feel nothing but a thin, weak flicker of nervousness or dread. Somehow, you get the creeping sense that something has gone wrong... <<elseif $mimirfortune is 11>> <<if settings.notifications>><<notify 5s>> +10 Nerves of Steel<</notify>><</if>> When you're done, you feel a powerful sense of wellbeing wash over you. Somehow, you feel as if something has changed... <<elseif $mimirfortune is 12>> <<if settings.notifications>><<notify 5s>> +10 Silver Tongue<</notify>><</if>> When you're done, you feel a powerful sense of wellbeing wash over you. Somehow, you feel as if something has changed... <<elseif $mimirfortune is 13>> <<if settings.notifications>><<notify 5s>> +10 Razor Wits<</notify>><</if>> When you're done, you feel a powerful sense of wellbeing wash over you. Somehow, you feel as if something has changed... <<elseif $mimirfortune is 14>> <<if settings.notifications>><<notify 5s>> +10 Bright Mind<</notify>><</if>> When you're done, you feel a powerful sense of wellbeing wash over you. Somehow, you feel as if something has changed... <</if>> <br><br> <<include "mimirfinish">>

<<run Dialog.setup("Examine"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("drawmimircard").processText()); Dialog.open();>> After you draw your card, Mimir goes through an elaborate, patient ceremony involving the brewing of her tea, selecting the flavor and method using some esoteric chart, swirling the amber liquid several times in her cup before tossing it over her left shoulder. She peers intent at the tea leaves settling like fine dust at the bottom. <br><br> Her brow furrows, and then... <br><br> <<if $mimirfortune is 1>> "A red devil," she mutters. "It would kill you if pitted against you, but... it doesn't <i>want</i> to. If you dare to break its chains and trust in its cunning, it won't turn against you." <<elseif $mimirfortune is 2 and $cainejoin is true>> "A guardian angel," she mutters. "Something about the infirmary. A Healer is going to make a large difference in your life. Perhaps you should be attention to who's staffing the infirmary." <<elseif $mimirfortune is 3>> "Magus is the key," she mutters. "Magus could be the thing that saves us all." <<elseif $mimirfortune is 4>> "A dark wolf," she mutters. "With a chain around its throat." She glances at you. "You might receive an invitation from someone you don't trust. But you <i>must</i> accept it. Don't delay your journey, either. Go to them with all haste." <<elseif $mimirfortune is 5>> "A star and a scepter," she mutters. "Someone close to you bears the mantle of a hallowed kingship." <<elseif $mimirfortune is 6 and $darktome is true>> "A black book," she mutters. "There is something within your reach that holds great power, but also dark purpose. Rather than keep it for yourself, it might be better to use it for other ends..." <<elseif $mimirfortune is 7>> "A wounded lion," she mutters. "Someone close to you may be endangered for the sake of another. If you want to save them, you either must be ruthless... or powerful enough to defy death itself." <<elseif $mimirfortune is 8>> "A weeping clown," she mutters. "Someone close to you is burdened by heavy, fey secrets... but that is not a story for you to know." <<elseif $mimirfortune is 9 and ($tallysromance is true or $tallyssex is true)>> "A bottle of poison," she mutters. "Do not let her drink it." <<elseif $mimirfortune is 10 and $sheryromance is true>> "A fainting saint," she mutters. "If you don't survive, neither will she." <<elseif $mimirfortune is 11>> "A fleeing rat," she mutters. "It may be better off without its family. Safer with its new one." <<elseif $mimirfortune is 12 and ($chasesex is true or $chaseromance is true)>> "A black cat," she mutters. "It will only attempt to flee you once. If you are patient, you will earn its loyalty and fealty for life." <<elseif $mimirfortune is 13>> "A half-open gate," she mutters. "Whoever wants to enter it should proceed with caution. If they go all the way through, they won't ever come back." <<elseif $mimirfortune is 14>> "An altar," she mutters. "Have you prayed lately? Even when you are met with silence, it is always important to pray." <<elseif $mimirfortune is 15>> "A swirling vortex," she mutters. "You will be able to find the truth at the eye of the storm. After that, the high screaming winds will settle to a caress." <<elseif $mimirfortune is 16>> "A cave," she mutters. "Someone will guide you to a place of quiet when things are at their most urgent. You should follow them, even if it seems you won't have time to." <<elseif $mimirfortune is 17>> "A broken crown," she mutters. "She'll never be Autarch if there is no Autarchy." <<elseif $mimirfortune is 18>> "A farmer," she mutters. "He's happier this way, even if his heart weeps for his people." <<elseif $mimirfortune is 19>> "A pot of honey," she mutters. "You should take care to beware of bears." <<elseif $mimirfortune is 20>> "A hammer," she mutters. "You should avoid hanging up any paintings today." <<elseif $mimirfortune is 21>> "A frog," she mutters. "You'll receive unsolicited advice from a fool today. Don't listen to anyone telling you about once-in-a-lifetime investments." <<elseif $mimirfortune is 22>> "A sack of flour," she mutters. "You should take care to check any doors you walk through today. I think someone has rigged a trap not meant for you." <<elseif $mimirfortune is 23>> "A bat," she mutters. "You should keep your windows shut tonight, or you'll catch a cold." <<elseif $mimirfortune is 24>> "A tall boot," she mutters. "You should avoid any joke-telling contests today. You'll lose." <<elseif $mimirfortune is 25>> "A feather," she mutters. "Avoid the urge to tickle anyone today. You'll get a black eye for your troubles." <<else>> "A cloud," she mutters. "You should bring in your laundry today. It looks like it's going to rain." <</if>> <br><br> You wait for more information, but it seems that none is forthcoming. <br><br> <<include "mimirfinish">>

<<nobr>><<set _mimircard to random(1,42)>> <<if _mimircard is 1>> You drew the Phoenix. This typically represents rebirth, but it can also signal flaming destruction. <<elseif _mimircard is 2>> You drew the Ghoul. A decrepit skeleton claws its way out of a grave. Be wary of secrets or problems from your past: they might resurrect themselves when you least expect them. <<elseif _mimircard is 3>> You drew the Thundering Steed. This typically represents swift progress and momentum, but it can also signal recklessness and the need for caution. <<elseif _mimircard is 4>> You drew the Throne. This typically represents authority and leadership, but it can also signal a need for balance and fair decision-making, lest power turn to tyranny. <<elseif _mimircard is 5>> You drew the Abyssal Depths. A dark chasm opens before you, representing unknown and uncharted territories. Approach with caution, for hidden dangers may lie ahead. <<elseif _mimircard is 6>> You drew the Mirror. Self-reflection and introspection might be necessary to confront one's own inner demons, but be wary of self-absorption or being too preoccupied with your own problems, for this can lead to its own kind of narcissism. <<elseif _mimircard is 7>> You drew the Wyrmguard. A vigilant dragon stands guard, representing protection and defense. Keep faith, for you are safe and secure under its watchful eye. <<elseif _mimircard is 8>> You drew the Hourglass. This typically represents the passage of time and the need to make the most of the present moment, but it can also signal a need for patience and careful planning. <<elseif _mimircard is 9>> You drew the Starweaver's Embrace. Destiny calls to you, but you must accept it with love and humility rather than trying to aggressively seize it for yourself. <<elseif _mimircard is 10>> You drew the Labyrinth. This typically represents a convergence of energies or significant events, but it can also signify confusion, suffocation, triumph, or escape. <<elseif _mimircard is 11>> You drew the Shadowcloak. Someone is hiding a part of themselves—be it their motivations, secrets, or desires—from you, or you are hiding yours from them. Sometimes shadows are necessary, but in the darkness, a friendly dog might look like a wolf. <<elseif _mimircard is 12>> You drew the Guardian. This card signifies protection, watchfulness, and a strong sense of responsibility. It suggests that you have the power to safeguard what's important to you. Be vigilant and stand your ground against rivals or threats. <<elseif _mimircard is 13>> You drew the Gate. This card represents opportunities, transitions, and new beginnings. It indicates that a significant change or a fresh start is on the horizon. Embrace it with an open heart and mind. <<elseif _mimircard is 14>> You drew the Hunter. This card embodies intuition, mystery, and inner exploration. It urges you to trust your own internal compass and navigate through uncertainties with grace and courage. <<elseif _mimircard is 15>> You drew the Crossroads. This card symbolizes choices, decisions, and important life junctures. It suggests that you are at a pivotal moment where your actions will shape your future. Take your time to weigh your options. <<elseif _mimircard is 16>> You drew the Harp. Your connections to others could create harmony and joy, so long as you allow them to. <<elseif _mimircard is 17>> You drew the Reaper. This card signifies transformation, endings, and the inevitability of change. It suggests that a chapter in your life is coming to a close, but with it comes the promise of new beginnings and growth. <<elseif _mimircard is 18>> You drew the Sacrifice. This card embodies selflessness, surrender, and the willingness to let go. It encourages you to release attachments to what no longer serves you, knowing that in doing so, you make space for something greater. <<elseif _mimircard is 19>> You drew the Compass. This card represents guidance, direction, and the pursuit of purpose. It advises you to trust your inner compass and strike out for new territories, even if the terrain looks difficult from afar. <<elseif _mimircard is 20>> You drew the Serpent. This card can represent transformation, healing, and the potential for renewal, or it can represent deception and treachery. It suggests that you have the power to shed old habits and beliefs, emerging stronger and wiser; or that there is someone in your midst that you shouldn't trust, so long as they're concealing themselves without showing their true colors. <<elseif _mimircard is 21>> You drew the Jester. This card represents spontaneity, unpredictability, and the playful twists and absurdity of life. Embrace your inner child and let go of rigid expectations. This card suggests that sometimes, the greatest wisdom comes from the willingness to be open, flexible, and to delight in the unpredictable journey of life. <<elseif _mimircard is 22>> You drew the Celestial Flame. This typically represents the power of magic, inner vitality, or spirituality, but it can also signal the need to harness your inner potential before it consumes you or turns into an obsession. <<elseif _mimircard is 23>> You drew the Elemental Scales. The six elements of fire, water, earth, air, light, and darkness are weighed in exact balance to each other. This typically represents harmony and balance, but it can also signal the need to find equilibrium in your life, especially if things feel chaotic or overwhelming. Find the moment of peace and calm even in the eye of the storm. <<elseif _mimircard is 24>> You drew the Lovers. This card signifies love, attractiveness, partnership, compatibility, and choices. While it most typically applies to relationships, another meaning behind the card is the concept of choice—a choice between things that are opposing and mutually exclusive. <<elseif _mimircard is 25>> You drew the Chariot. This card is all about overcoming challenges and gaining victory through maintaining control of your surroundings. This perfect control and confidence allows the charioteer to emerge victorious in any situation. <<elseif _mimircard is 26>> You drew the Knight. While most people concentrate on the knight's armor, it's actually the sword that is the most important part of the card. It signifies the need to charge forward and attack a problem or enemy relentlessly, without hesitation, in order to defend a cause and win the day. <<elseif _mimircard is 27>> You drew the Wheel. Greater forces that are outside of human control are at work here. The same force that governs the changing of the seasons, or the rising and setting of the sun, is also the master of luck and the fate of individuals. Where fortunes land is as random as chance - you may find yourself at either the top or bottom, but remember that your position is mutable and changeable... for the wheel always turns. <<elseif _mimircard is 28>> You drew the Judge. This card represents fairness, balance, and accountability. It suggests that all actions will be met with due consequences, and decisions should be considered carefully and made with the right intentions. <<elseif _mimircard is 29>> You drew the Hanged Man. This card signifies surrender, letting go, and gaining a new perspective. It suggests that embracing a shift in perception can lead to a greater understanding. <<elseif _mimircard is 30>> You drew the Bridge. This card represents balance, harmony, and finding middle ground. It suggests integrating opposing forces or finding a peaceful resolution to a conflict. <<elseif _mimircard is 31>> You drew the Devil. This card signifies bondage, materialism, and vice. In order to free yourself of suffering, it encourages you to confront and release any unhealthy attachments, habits, grudges, or patterns. <<elseif _mimircard is 32>> You drew the Stormlight Beacon. This card embodies upheaval, sudden change, and breaking free from limitations. It suggests that a major shift or revelation is on the horizon. <<elseif _mimircard is 33>> You drew the Star. This card represents hope, inspiration, and spiritual guidance. It signifies a period of renewal and a sense of purpose leading to a brighter future. It also suggests that you are a figure who is admired by many. <<elseif _mimircard is 34>> You drew the Moon. This card signifies shifting moods, changing circumstances, or uncertain feelings. Just as the moon waxes and wanes, or raises the tides and then lowers them, something in your life is behaving mercurially. However, if you decide on a goal and chart a course towards it, your determination will have an irresistible, magnetic effect. <<elseif _mimircard is 35>> You drew the Sun. This card embodies vitality, joy, and a sense of fulfillment. It signifies a time of positivity, clarity, and triumph. <<elseif _mimircard is 36>> You drew the Cloud. Something or someone is obscuring your vision and distracting you from fully committing to what you know must be done. A strong, cleansing wind might be needed to remove this influence from your mind. <<elseif _mimircard is 37>> You drew the Weaver. This card represents the weaving of destiny and the threads of the universe. It suggests a time of intricate connections and the realization that every action has a cosmic ripple effect. <<elseif _mimircard is 38>> You drew the Mother. This card typically represents healing, nurturing, guidance, and abundance. It suggests a need for harmony and an encouragement to cultivate a sense of care for others. It also encourages you to lower your guard or embrace a new home. <<elseif _mimircard is 39>> You drew the Father. This card embodies authority, stability, leadership, and an embracing of responsibility. It indicates a need for structure and a strong foundation to achieve your goals and lead others towards a better way of life. Taking on new duties or job promotions is a common interpretation for the Father card. <<elseif _mimircard is 40>> You drew the Son. This card embodies generosity, prosperity, youthful energy, and potential. It suggests a period of exploration, learning, and a sense of wonder. The Son encourages you to approach challenges with a sense of adventurousness, curiosity, courage, and enthusiasm. However, overambition is cautioned against, and heeding the advice of elders or authority figures is encouraged. <<elseif _mimircard is 41>> You drew the Daughter. This card typically represents femininity, beauty, fertility, and emotional growth. It suggests a time of change, creativity, and the blossoming of new ideas or projects. Take advantage of this momentum and allow your ideas to flourish. <<elseif _mimircard is 42>> You drew the Bastard. This card typically represents chaos, disaster, infinity, or all things out of season. While it's generally viewed as an unfavorable card, it is a good omen for orphans, pirates, prostitutes, hangmen, and sorcerers. It may also urge you to keep a close eye on other people in your life, as they may be grappling with an unseen problem. <</if>> <br><br> <center><<button "Confirm">><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>></center> <</nobr>>

Mimir stares at you expectantly. "That's all I can do for today." <br><br> <<if $mimirtime is 0>> You hesitate. <ul class="choices"> <li><<link '"Are you sure you don\'t want to talk about something else? You don\'t <i>have</i> to only look at my future, you know."' 'mimirhesitates'>><<setcompassionate +3>><<setcharisma +1>><<setmimir +3>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Are you sure you don\'t want to come inside?"' 'areyousuremimir'>><<setcompassionate +3>><<setmimir +1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Well... thanks, I suppose. See you later."' 'latermimir'>><</link>></li> </ul> <<else>> You nod. "All right. See you later." <br><br> Mimir gives you no sign that she heard you, except for a faint nod of her head. Still, you get the sense that she's pleased you stopped by. <br><br> <<include "mimirover">> <</if>>

The Seer pauses, as if puzzled by your statement, before she shakes her head and says, "This is the only way I can help you." "But sometimes you don't need to help," you point out. "Sometimes friends can just… talk. Exist together. We can even be silent together, if you want." Mimir stares at you for a while, looking completely blank. Finally she says confidently, "I'll see you again soon." <<include "latermimir">>

Mimir shakes her head. "No. It's better out here." There's not much you can say to that. <<include "latermimir">>

You watch her for a while, but she doesn't acknowledge your presence again, so you turn and walk back towards the compound, feeling even more confused than when you first arrived. <<include "mimirover">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "dayoff">><<set $mimirtime +=1>><<set $offertory to 0>><</link>></center>

<<audio ":playing" fadeoverto 5 0>> <<if $redtime is 0>> <<include "redinterlude1">> <<elseif $redtime is 1>> <<include "redinterlude2">> <<elseif $redtime is 2>> <<include "redinterlude3">> <<elseif $redtime is 3>> <<include "redinterlude4">> <<else>> [THIS SECTION IS INCOMPLETE.] <br><br> <<if $capradayoff is true>> <<page_break "Next" "dayoff42">> <<else>> <<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "dayoff">><<set $dayoff -= 1>><</link>> <</if>> <</if>>

<<nobr>><<set $halfname2 to $firstname>><<setred +5>><</nobr>>You go looking for Red, eventually finding him sitting in a patch of sunlight and leaning against a wizened fruit tree. Small, wrinkled apples bob cheerfully in the breeze above him; Red's head is bent towards the book balanced against his lap. Beside him rests the giant warhammer you saw him wielding in the Phantom Shore, the weapon lying in the sun like it's a pet cat. Did Red bring it out here to… sun? Red looks up at you, and his mouth quirks into a smile. <<nobr>><<if ($education is "Circle-trained" and $redrelationship is not "rival") and $redrelationship is not "classmate">> "<<c firstname>>," he says, his voice soft. Then he blinks, as if startled out of some reverie, and laughs a little. "It still feels a bit strange to call you that." <br><br> Back in school, he used to call you by a shortened version of your first name, the way he's called "Red" (short for Liefred) and "Pan" is short for Panrachus. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Your nickname back then was...</div>' 'redinterlude1_nickname'>><<setred +3>><</link>> <<if ($halfname is not $firstname and $halfname is not "recruit")>><<link '<div class="choice-item">It's the same nickname Trouble calls you now: $halfname. You'd like it if Red kept using it.</div>' 'autogenerated_68527'>><<set $halfname2 to $halfname>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You prefer being called by your first name now, though.</div>' 'autogenerated_68528'>><<set $halfname2 to $firstname>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <<else>> "<<c firstname>>," he says, as easily as if you'd agreed beforehand to meet here. He tilts his head to the seat beside him. "Have a seat?" <br><br> <<include "redinterlude1_sit">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $part gt 4>> Red grins. "I'd noticed Trouble was calling you that. I had wondered at first, seeing you in the company of these very stern-faced, soldierly Shepherds, if you were still going to go by it. It's good to know some things never change." Then he tilts his head to the seat beside him. "Care to join me?" <<else>> Red grins. "Sounds good." Then he tilts his head to the seat beside him. "Care to join me?" <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'redinterlude1_sit'>>

You tell Red so, and he laughs. "I sort of suspected it, which is why I didn't use it when I first saw you," he teases. "Didn't want to embarrass you in front of your new, worldly coworkers." You roll your eyes, and he tilts his head to the seat next to him. "Want to have a seat?" <<include 'redinterlude1_sit'>>

Your nickname back then was <<textbox "$halfname2" "">>. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "redinterlude1_nickname2">><<setred +3>><</link>></center>

Red's lips quirk in a nostalgic smile. "So you still go by that?" he asks, a hint of teasing in his tone. "I'd wondered, seeing you in the company of these very stern-faced, soldierly Shepherds. That's… good to know." He chuckles a little. "Although I think I'll address you more formally when we're around other people. We're an Archmage and the Hero of Haven, after all. Got to have people take us somewhat seriously, and not hear us talking to each other like we're still school kids." "You're still going by Red," you point out, "and Pan is still Pan, and Neon is still Neon." Red grins a little. "Well, maybe you're different," he says mildly. "If I'm not careful, soon <i>everyone's</i> going to be calling you <<c halfname2>>, and then I won't feel so special." He tilts his head towards the seat next to him. "Care to join me?" <<include "redinterlude1_sit">>

You sit. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"What are you reading?"</div>' 'redinterlude1_reading'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Should have known I was going to find you reading."</div>' 'redinterlude1_reading'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"What's got you so preoccupied?"</div>' 'redinterlude1_reading'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Red gives you a sidelong, boyish grin, <<nobr>><<if $redromanceflag gte 7>> looking very unfairly handsome; then he tilts the book towards you. <<else>> then tilts the book back towards you. <</if>><</nobr>> You see a lot of complicated runes <<nobr>><<if $intelligence gte 50>> in Magid, the ancient Mage script,<</if>><</nobr>> swimming on the page before he shifts it back towards him. "I'm just brushing up on my Endarkened-fighting magic. You'd think there'd be a lot of research into the field, but if there was, many of those records burned. You get the basic destructive evocations, things that should be effective in damaging X Y Z demon. But no… I don't know, automatic dispersion? When advanced Summoners encounter dangerous spirits, sometimes even those of rival Mages, they can undo the anchor that ties the spirit to this plane and dispel it back to the Spirit Realm. But we don't have that with Endarkened—though, I think, the principle ought to be the same, or at least similar. Neither are native beings to this plane; both ought to be capable of being dismissed and sent back, don't you think?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if ($intelligence gte 45 or $arcane gte 30)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Trust me, I've tried looking into this myself. If there were spells out there that made our job easier, I would have found them."</div>' 'trustmeivetriedred'>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($intelligence lt 45 and $arcane lt 30)>><div class="inactive-item">"Trust me, I've tried looking into this myself. If there were spells out there that made our job easier, I would have found them."</div><</if>> <<if ($intelligence gte 55 or $specialization is "conjurer" or $arcane gte 65)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Well, consider Tlathou's Principle of Shaping. The entire reason we can dismiss spirits with relative ease is because human themselves seem to give them form, or because they're echoes of our world, in some way. That's not the case for Endarkened."</div>' 'tlathousprinciple'>><<setred +3>><<set $redromanceflag += 1>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($intelligence lt 55 and $specialization is not "conjurer" and $arcane lt 65)>><div class="inactive-item">"Well, consider Tlathou's Principle of Shaping. The entire reason we can dismiss spirits with relative ease is because human themselves seem to give them form, or because they're echoes of our world, in some way. That's not the case for Endarkened."</div><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'll leave it to you. It sounds like you're going to figure it out eventually."</div>' 'redscheekdimples'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I don't know what the Hael you're talking about."</div>' 'idontknowwhatthehaelyouretalkingabout'>><<setintelligence -3>><<set $redromanceflag -= 3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Red sighs and snaps the book shut. "I suppose you're right. <<nobr>><<if $education is "Circle-trained">> You always did have a knack for ferreting things out.<</if>><</nobr>> Still, it was worth a try." Then he turns to you. <<include "redinterlude1_turns">>

Red smiles ruefully. "I'd forgotten about Tlathou. But isn't Hael an echo of our world, in some way? And don't Endarkened feed on our pain and suffering? I'd say that connection is just as strong as ours to the Spirit Realm, if not stronger." <<nobr>><<if ($belief is "oldfaith" and $faith gte 50)>> "That's true." You frown. "But according to the Old Faith, demons are… more than echoes of us. They're our antithesis, our exact opposites in every way. It would make sense, then, that our ability to dispel them would be exactly negated—like two magnets facing the opposite way." <<else>> You shrug. "That's only if the teachings of the Old Faith are true when it comes to the creation and nature of the Endarkened. We just don't know." <</if>><</nobr>> Red shakes his head with another wry, half-admiring smile. <<include "redinterlude1_wry">>

Red's cheek dimples. "I appreciate your show of faith," he says good-humoredly. Then he snaps the book shut and turns to you. <<include "redinterlude1_turns">>

Red smiles ruefully and snaps his book shut. "No one ever does." Then he turns to you. <<include "redinterlude1_turns">>

<<nobr>><<if $education is "Circle-trained">> "You always were cleverer than me, $halfname2." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"But you always got the better grades."</div>' 'didiidontremember'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Yeah, and I had the grades to prove it."</div>' 'autogenerated_68529'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <<else>> "Maybe you should be Archmage instead of me. You're clearly smarter." <<include "snapshisbookshut">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Red reels back and places a hand against his heart, as if wounded. "You're still holding on to that? It's been years, $halfname2." "Still doesn't change the truth," you say smugly. Red glances at you amusedly. "Maybe I was too busy pursuing more important things." <<include 'redinterlude1_wry_grades'>>

Red grins. "Did I? I don't remember." "<i>Sure</i> you don't." He snorts a rueful laugh. <<include "snapshisbookshut">>

Then he snaps his book shut and turns to you. <<include "redinterlude1_turns">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if ($redrelationship is "ex")>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Like me?" <b>[FLIRT]</b></div>' 'likemered'>><<set $redromanceflag += 1>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You were chasing a lot of tail, that's for sure."</div>' 'youwerechasingalotoftail'>><<setred +2>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Oh yeah, you were really discovering the mysteries of the universe at sixteen."</div>' 'reallydiscoveringthemysteries'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Red chokes a bit on his laugh, then coughs. Spluttering slightly, he manages to recover his dignity and says, "I suppose you could put it that way." Then he pauses and looks at you accusingly. "Wait, you didn't…" "…Date you so you'd be distracted enough to let your grades drop, allowing me to do better?" You smile. "I guess you'll never know." Red chuckles. "You already broke up with me, <<c halfname2>>, you don't need to wound my ego more. If you only dated me to improve your grades, you at least got a very nice bonus. Or several, I think." Now it's your turn to splutter, and Red grins, suddenly more sly than you remembered him as a youth. <<include "snapshisbookshut">>

He groans. "You are never going to let me live that down, are you?" "Nope." He smiles. "You look good, <<c halfname2>>." It's something you say to each other, one of those bizarre in-jokes that don't really make that much sense. "Thanks, flirt." Red snorts a familiar laugh. <<include "snapshisbookshut">>

"Youth is no limit to knowledge," Red quotes, sounding very wise and diplomatic. Then he catches your stare and laughs. <<include "redinterlude1_turns">>

"Did you need something? You had a pensive look on your face when you came out." <<nobr>><<if $education is "Circle-trained">> "I just wanted to catch up," you begin slowly. "To talk to you… away from everybody else." <<else>> "I just wanted to see how you're settling in," you begin slowly. "And get to know you, a little. We're colleagues now, after all." <</if>><</nobr>> Red grins. "Good idea." He makes a broad, sweeping feature with one long arm. "Ask away—but I might have some questions for you in return, if that's all right." You nod. "Deal." <<nobr>><<if $education is "Circle-trained">> <<include "askredknow">> <<else>> <<include "askrednotknow">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("howsredsfamily")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"How's your family?"</div>' 'howsredsfamily'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("redswarhammerintro")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"What's with that warhammer?"</div>' 'redswarhammerintro'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("howdoesredfeeljoiningtheshepherds")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"How do you really feel, joining the Shepherds?"</div>' 'howdoesredfeeljoiningtheshepherds'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("icantbelievehowmanypeoplestayed")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"I can't believe so many people stayed at the Circle. You, Pan, Neon..."</div>' 'icantbelievehowmanypeoplestayed'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("whatdidyoudoaftergraduation")>><<link '<div class="question-item"> "What did you do, after graduation? Did you become Archmage right away?"</div>' 'whatdidyoudoaftergraduation'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("whydidwefalloutoftouch")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Why did we fall out of touch?"</div>' 'whydidwefalloutoftouch'>><<setred +1>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">The conversation turns to other topics at hand. </div>' 'askredknow2'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Red has four older sisters, you recall, all Mages—and his parents are bookkeepers now living in Stroud. Red smiles at your question. "They're good," he says, smiling in a fond, faraway way. "Idalia's still traveling, trying to preserve spellbooks from being burned by the Autarchy. In her last letter, she mentioned falling in love with somebody—but knowing her luck, that'll fizzle out by the time she sends her next. Isodel's traveling, as well, around the Thielwood, recording local stories and myths from small enclaves and villages, making sure that they're not lost to time. She shows no signs of settling down—though she did visit our parents last Wintersun. Lydda's still in Ambryn, working as a librarian, and I think she's either got a girlfriend or is on her way to getting one; and Gwyn's still near home, working as a court scribe and being the family rebel. And my parents are, well, the same. All good, all healthy." <<nobr>> <<if $redrelationship is "friend" or $redrelationship is "ex">> He pauses for a moment, then adds: "They… miss you. They ask after you every time I come home." <<include "redsfamilyandmc">> <<else>> <br><br> "Were they happy that you become Archmage?" you ask. <br><br> Red pauses for a long moment. "They were proud, yes." <<include "askredknow">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm surprised they remember me. I only met them once or twice."</div>' 'autogenerated_68530'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You smile. "I miss them, too."</div>' 'autogenerated_68531'>><<setred +3>><</link>> <<if $redrelationship is "ex">><<link '<div class="choice-item">You grin and nudge him teasingly. "Idalia always did want us to get married."</div>' 'autogenerated_68532'>><<set $redromanceflag += 1>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Oh, that's nice."</div>' 'autogenerated_68533'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $redrelationship is "friend">> Red smiles. "They always remember my close friends." <<else>> Red smiles, then looks away. "I guess you made a strong impression." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'askredknow'>>

Red smiles at you. "Maybe we can visit them together, someday. Or they can come to the Shepherds' compound and visit us. I'm sure Lydda would go wild over the idea of visiting Haven." You nod, smiling back. "That sounds nice." <<nobr>><<if $redrelationship is "ex">> <<set $redromanceflag += 1>> <br><br> "And I'm sure they'd be even more excited about the prospect of seeing you," he adds, his eyes now to the sky. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'askredknow'>>

Red clears his throat, then coughs. His ears turn slightly pink. "What—what are you talking about?" "You didn't know?" You assume a face of supreme innocence. "Whenever they came to visit, Idalia would always pull me to the side and ask if we'd talked about marriage. She always said she needed me to… <i>settle</i> you, and that she'd kill you if you ever dated any other 'tart', because I was the only one actually good for you." Red groans. "That's horrid. And it sounds very much like her." You catch each other's eyes and laugh. <<include 'askredknow'>>

Red smiles slightly. "It is. You made quite the impression." <<include 'askredknow'>>

Red glances at the weapon. "Oh, this?" He casually hefts it into his lap, as if it were a mere walking stick. "I found it in some ruins in the old Frostwood. A weapon wielded by Elvish Knight-Mages, was my guess—though possibly not, considering they were typically sword-users. Maybe it was an artifact that they unearthed instead, and it predates them. It was in a heap of rubble in an old armory of some sorts; it flashed when I touched it, and then later, when I fell into a pit—some kind of booby trap—it flew to my hand from the other room. Ultimately not that helpful in that situation, but—since no one's claimed it in at least seven hundred years—I figured it'd be a good souvenir. It seems to like being in the sun, I've noticed. I think the warmth charges its attacks." "Does it have a name?" you ask. "You mean like Anguriel?" Red asks with a smile. <<nobr>><<if $brionyjoin is true>>"Or Gonturan?"<</if>><</nobr>> He shakes his head. "I'm afraid if you were expecting some great ancestral name, you'll be disappointed. There's some Mizunh on the hammer face, as you can see, but it's all faded, and I don't think it names the hammer, either. So if it did ever have a name, I don't know it. Pan calls it 'Hammy,' which, you know, is awful." <<nobr>><<if ($red >= 65)>> He pauses. "I—I had a dream once, that it talked to me. <<if $brionyjoin is true>> The same way Gonturan talks to Briony. <</if>> It said that it came from some place called the Celestial Forge, the Anvil of Heaven… and that it was one of many weapons from that place. It said its name was Illumina, Emberling, the Flame-Hammer… but when I woke up, it was silent, of course. Still, it was a very strange kind of dream." <br><br> "Maybe it can only talk to you through dreams," you offer. <br><br> Red smiles. "If that's true, it's a very close-mouthed kind of weapon. It only happened that once." <</if>><</nobr>> "And what does it do?" you ask. "Well, mostly I just swing it around," Red says, with a bit of cheek. "Though it can change size—it can get smaller, small enough to fit into my pocket, or as large as a horse, and I can still pick it up. And see these runes? Elemental fire. Sometimes things spontaneously combust when I hit them." He catches your look and quirks his lips ruefully. "I know: it doesn't seem like a weapon that I'd ever use, does it? But it's surprisingly light to wield, and it does wonders for my triceps." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if ($attractedto is not "women")>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Glance at his slim but defined muscles appreciatively. "I can tell." </div>' 'autogenerated_68534'>><<set $redromanceflag += 3>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Don't lie. You always loved being flashy. The center of attention."</div>' 'autogenerated_68535'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Still. It seems wildly impractical."</div>' 'autogenerated_68536'>><<setred -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Can I try holding it?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68537'>><<set $redromanceflag += 1>><<setred +3>><</link>> <<if ($charisma >= 50)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Pan was right. It is <i>really</i> phallic."</div>' 'autogenerated_68538'>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($charisma < 50)>><div class="inactive-item">"Pan was right. It is <i>really</i> phallic."</div><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

Red glances right back, his eyes lingering a bit on your shoulders and hands before he looks away. "You certainly haven't slacked off on your training, either," he says, his tone perfectly mild. <<include 'askredknow'>>

You remember how he loved to add a sense of unnecessary flair to his projects; how he secretly liked standing out in class. He always did have a false sense of humility. Red grins. "I have no idea what you're talking about." <<include 'askredknow'>>

Red shrugs. "So does most magic, I think. But I still like using it." <<include 'askredknow'>>

Red nods. "Sure—but I've got to warn you, its weight can be… unpredictable." <<include 'passesyouthewarhammer'>>

Red groans. "Everyone says that. By that definition, aren't swords? Aren't guns?" You glance at the hammer. "This is… different. Come on, it responds to people differently and can change size?" He sighs through his nose. "I can never win." <<include 'askredknow'>>

He stands and passes you the warhammer. <<nobr>> <<if $strength gte 45>> <<if $redromanceflag gte 5>> <<set $redromanceflag += 1>> <</if>> Immediately, you feel the weapon warming under your hand, and when you heft the hammer, it feels light and ready in your grip. <br><br> You smirk at Red, who looks a little surprised. "This is easy." <br><br> He laughs and takes the hammer back from you, spinning it in a deft circle before reclaiming his seat on the ground. "I'm impressed. Seems like you've outpaced me once again, <<c halfname2>>." <<include "askredknow">> <<else>> Immediately, the unbalanced weight of it feels awkward in your hands; you falter, and the hammer drops down into the grass. When you try to pick it up again, it remains stubbornly heavy, as immovable as an anvil. <br><br> Red chuckles. "It's all right. It does that for everybody." <br><br> He takes the hammer back from you, and you resume your seats. <<include "askredknow">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Red looks away and laughs softly. "If you really want to know," he says, "I feel… relieved. Having other people to handle the logistics, the leadership, the administration side of things… that's heaven-sent. I always feel as if I'm a hair's breadth from—from making a mistake, or failing the others. Joining the Shepherds makes everything feel… more secure. I don't feel the weight of the responsibility so heavily. It…" He sighs. "It feels good, not feeling as if I have to be the only leader. Truth be told, it feels as if I'm foisting a lot of my work off onto Blade and the others, but… I'm glad for it. It's a relief." He glances at you. "It sounds pretty terrible, I know." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Shake your head. "Not at all. You never asked for this burden. Of course you'd be relieved to share it."</div>' 'autogenerated_68539'>><<setred +1>><</link>> <<if (($redrelationship is "ex") or ($redrelationship is "friend"))>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Touch his hand. "If I'd known you were struggling by yourself..."</div>' 'autogenerated_68540'>><<setred +3>><<set $redromanceflag += 1>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Frown. "Maybe you weren't the right choice for Archmage, after all."</div>' 'autogenerated_68541'>><<setred -5>><</link>> <<if ($redrelationship is "rival")>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Look away. If only you hadn't left, and then maybe Archmage Tevanti would have given you the job instead...</div>' 'autogenerated_68542'>><</link>><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

Red smiles at you. "Thanks. It's true that it's an honor to be named Archmage, but it always felt like I was either the fallback or the mistake. I had plans of my own, and while I never resented Archmage Tevanti for making his choice, I was also very unprepared." He shakes his head. "I'm just glad it hasn't led to disaster, thus far." <<include 'askredknow'>>

"You would have come back?" Red smiles wryly and bumps you with his shoulder. "That's kind. But I would never be able to bear the guilt of asking you to come back to Solhadur, not when you were out pursuing your own dreams. Being Archmage was my burden to bear, and mine alone. My pride would have never allowed it." Then he smiles at you. "I'm glad it turned out this way, anyway. We met again, the Circle lives, I don't have to be the sole leader anymore, we're all safe, and we get to do good. Who could have asked for more?" <<nobr>><<if $redromanceflag >= 7>> He squeezes your hand tightly. <</if>><<if $redromanceflag >= 12>> Then, lightning-quick, he brushes your knuckles with a feather-light kiss and a smile. <</if>><</nobr>> "Thanks, though. I… I do really appreciate it." <<include 'askredknow'>>

To have the position is the highest honor a Circle-Mage could receive—and he only sees it as a burden? Red chuckles ruefully. "I wonder that every day, myself. But I think we're inching by. And everyone's alive, at least. It's better than a lot of Circles." Then he sobers and looks away. <<include 'askredknow'>>

Red seems to know your thoughts, and he chuckles ruefully before also looking away. <<include 'askredknow'>>

Red shakes his head. "I know. I think it was a combination of things: the Autarchy cracking down on Mages more than ever, and the Endarkened problem worsening, so more people were motivated to stay within the safety of the Circle. And after Archmage Tevanti died, active recruitment of teachers also dwindled—<i>I</i> certainly didn't know anybody outside of the Circle to recruit—so the older generation of Mages was more needed to stick around and teach the younger and incoming students." He pauses for a moment, then sighs. "And I think—though they'd never admit it—people like Pan and Neon stayed because… they knew I needed help, and that I couldn't do it all on my own. They say otherwise, of course, but I think that's at least part of their reasons for staying." He trails off, and you feel a reverberation of guilt go through your chest. You know you shouldn't feel guilty—you didn't know about the situation, of course, since it happened after you left—but you can't help but feel as though you should have stayed, too. <<nobr>><<if ($redrelationship is "friend") or ($redrelationship is "ex")>> <br><br> Red catches the expression on your face and pinches your cheek. "Stop." His tone is more affectionate than reprimanding. "If you look at me like that again, I'll make you lecture the first-years. Then you'll hate me so much you won't even have the wherewithal to feel guilty." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Swat his hand away. "Don't tell me how to feel."</div>' 'autogenerated_68543'>><<set $redromanceflag to 0>><<setred -5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Lean into his hand. "You always could read me like an open book."</div>' 'autogenerated_68544'>><<set $redromanceflag += 1>><<setred +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Tsk. "The first-years can't be that bad."</div>' 'autogenerated_68545'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <<else>> <<include "askredknow">> <</if>><</nobr>>

His face falls, and his hand drops instantly. "Of course. I'm sorry." An awkward silence falls over you both, then. <<include 'askredknow'>>

Red smiles affectionately. "I'm glad the ability hasn't faded with time." <<nobr>><<if $redrelationship is "ex">> Then his expression flickers, changes—and he gently pulls his hand away. You're left thinking that, while he can read you just as easily as he could all those years ago—you suddenly can't tell what he's thinking now. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'askredknow'>>

Red wrinkles his nose. "They're… precocious," he says diplomatically. "Let's just say: I'd rather fight a thousand demons than walk into a class of know-it-all teenagers." You snort. "We were those know-it-all teenagers, once." Red grimaces. "I know. I'm speaking from experience." <<include 'askredknow'>>

Red shakes his head slowly. "Not exactly. Archmage Tevanti died maybe a month after you left, but Magister Rumi—you remember her, she was the Archmage's right-hand—took over for a bit, to get things in order for my tenure. She didn't have long, either, and we all knew it; that curse she'd been hit with was eating her alive, and there wasn't much anyone could do. She volunteered to lead for as long as she could: she had no family, she said, nowhere else to go, anyway, and she just about booted me out of the office. I was left to my own devices for—I don't know, nine, ten months. But then… you know. And then I was called back, and the story begins." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"So Rumi died, too?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68546'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Why didn't you try to cure her?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68547'>><<setred -5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"What did you do in those ten months?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68548'>><<setred +3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Red nods slowly. "We gave her a funerary pyre befitting an Archmage. Everyone tried to find a way to untwist that curse, but—we never found a cure." He looks away, his face regretful. "It was… complicated, and she was too stubborn to tell too many people about it. You remember how she was." <<include 'askredknow'>>

Red grimaces. "You don't think I looked for a solution? We all did. I went hunting high and low for a way to untwist that curse. If I'd managed it, not only would she have lived—she might have gone on being Archmage instead of me." He looks away and lets out a long, slow sigh. "Unfortunately, it was all in vain. No one could figure out how to undo it, and she didn't like people dwelling on it, anyway. Too stubborn, too proud. She didn't want people knowing about her… business. And, well. In the end it took her life. That's what happens when you spend your career messing around with cursed objects, I suppose." He looks regretful. "Still. I wish I could have found a way to save her." <<include 'askredknow'>>

Red shrugs elegantly. "Along with trying to find a cure for Rumi? I did what I said I'd do after graduation. I traveled, explored ruins and ancient sites, tried to cram in as much research as I could. Maybe drank a little, acted the young hedon. I wouldn't get the chance once I donned those robes, I thought." He blinks. "And then I came back." <<include 'askredknow'>>

Red starts, as if surprised by your question; his head swivels to look at you. <<nobr>> <<if $redrelationship is "rival">> "I wasn't under the impression that we were going to keep in touch," he says mildly. "At graduation, you seemed to want to have nothing to do with me. If I'd known there was a want…" <br><br> It's true: you and Red were always very competitive in school, and beyond that you rarely interacted in a purely social way. You look away, a bit embarrassed by the question. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You're right. We weren't close at all. Silly question."</div>' 'autogenerated_68549'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Well, I hated your guts back then. It's no wonder I didn't talk to you at graduation."</div>' 'autogenerated_68550'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"We were competitive, but I still considered you a friend..."</div>' 'autogenerated_68551'>><<setred +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"What? I thought we had a whole love-hate thing going on..." <b>[FLIRT]</b></div>' 'autogenerated_68552'>><<set $redromanceflag += 1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <<else>> "We always said we'd try," he says after a moment, "but I think we both knew how near-impossible that would be. You said you were going to go traveling the Continent, after graduation; I said the same. We'd never have any way of knowing where the other was: far-speaking is location-based, and we wouldn't have known where to send letters. By the time I knew I was going to Archmage, I had no idea where <i>you</i> were—so I couldn't notify you." He smiles at you, soothingly. "We just… went our separate ways, that's all. Life took us in different directions…" <br><br> "And now it's brought us back together again," you finish. <br><br> Red tugs on a lock of your hair. "Exactly." <<if ($redrelationship is "ex")>> Then he laughs. "Besides, given how we parted, I wouldn't have expected you to be rushing to write letters to me." <br><br> You flush, despite yourself. "What do you mean? We didn't… <i>part ways</i> on bad terms." <br><br> "No," Red says musingly, "and yet I felt as if your vision of the future didn't really include me." He holds his hands up placatingly at your look. "Not that I blamed you. We weren't even really adults yet—we needed to find our own ways in the world. You knew it before I did. I just… didn't expect it, at the time. That's all." <<include "sorryexred">> <<else>> <<include "askredknow">> <</if>> <</if>><</nobr>>

Red shrugs. "Not that silly." <<include 'askredknow'>>

Red blinks. "And now?" he asks cautiously. <<include 'redrivalswitchup'>>

Red blinks, then smiles. "I did, too, <<c firstname>>," he says softly. "I did, too." <<include 'askredknow'>>

Red blinks at you, a bit owlishly. "We did?" he says after a moment, cautious. "So <i>that's</i> what that was." "Yeah." "I, er… wasn't aware." "Yeah." Red smiles at you, a bit sheepishly, but otherwise doesn't know what else to say. <<include 'askredknow'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"And now I don't."</div>' 'autogenerated_68553'>><<setred +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"And now, we'll see."</div>' 'autogenerated_68554'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Nothing's changed that much, except we're taller."</div>' 'autogenerated_68555'>><<setred -5>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Red starts to smile at you, that maddening grin that used to rankle you so much. "I see," is all he says, slowly. "Don't get too excited," you warn. He holds up his hands. "I'll try." <<include 'askredknow'>>

Red's lips quirks. "I suppose we will." <<include 'askredknow'>>

Red sighs through his nose. "I see." <<include 'askredknow'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm sorry."</div>' 'autogenerated_68556'>><<setred +1>><<set $redromanceflag += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You're right. It was the inevitable conclusion of things."</div>' 'autogenerated_68557'>><<setintelligence +1>><<set $redromanceflag -= 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"What do you mean, you didn't expect it?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68558'>><<set $redromanceflag += 1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

He chucks you under the chin gently. "Don't be. It's not as if I was crying myself to sleep. It was all for the best, right?" For some reason, you look away. "Right." <<include 'askredknow'>>

Red laughs softly. "Always the logical one, weren't you?" <<include 'askredknow'>>

You'd always thought that your breakup was mutual—that it wasn't even a breakup. You were casual with each other, no strings and no commitments—and friends. Always friends, first and foremost. You'd sort of fallen into the romance part of it, unexpectedly; and, after watching all of Red's fleeting and exceedingly shallow dalliances break off with the nonchalance of a man switching favorite beers, you had never expecting anything different. You'd thought you'd both entered that relationship with the same silent understanding. Red smiles to himself and shakes his head. "Forget it." "No, I want to know." "I forget what I was talking about," he says with bland wryness. And no matter how much you poke and prod, he refuses to elaborate on what he meant. <<include 'askredknow'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("solhadurhistory")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"I wanted to ask you about Solhadur."</div>' 'solhadurhistory'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("travelingmagic")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"I wanted to ask you about Traveling magic."</div>' 'travelingmagic'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("redwarhammer")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"I wanted to ask you about your warhammer."</div>' 'redwarhammer'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("redpersonallife")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"I wanted to ask you about your personal life."</div>' 'redpersonallife'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">The conversation turns to other topics.</div>' 'askrednotknow2'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Red tips his head back and strokes his chin. "Solhadur? What about it?" You shrug. "Just... its history. How it worked. Things like that." Red's mouth quirks. "Well, you came to the right person: I'm a history buff, at least when it comes to magic." His hand falls away from his mouth. "Solhadur is... was... one of the most magical places on this Continent. Some theories suggest that there are certain—wells, or leylines, or spots across the Continent that are particularly steeped in magic, or are more connected to the gods or the lifestream of the land more than most. I don't know if I totally believe it, but it's said that Solhadur and the six other Mage colleges were built on these sites to better harness their native power. Sort of like... a water mill being built on top of a geyser, if you will. And as a result, the place has stood the test of time for thousands of years, housing and teaching generations upon generations of Mages. It's why it never fell, even to the Autarchy's armies: the countless wards and protective spells and enchantments and wellsprings of power, especially from all the millions of students and Archmages who have passed through its halls, wouldn't allow it. The fabric of the spells will deteriorate over time, of course, making it easier to discover the people within—but I don't think even the gods themselves could pull that building down completely." You nod, taking this in. "So I know the Mage colleges existed to train and certify working Mages," you say. "Did the Veiled Circle aim to do that, too?" Red nods. "We did our best to revive and preserve the practices of old. We had classes, formal coursework, dormitories, teachers, and schedules. Dinners in the great hall at sunset, breakfasts after dawn. We even followed the rankings of the past: first-year students, who generally began at around thirteen, were novitiates, second-years were novices, third-year students were apprentices, and so on and so forth. Generally schooling lasts either seven or nine years, though you can stay on after graduation and certification to either pursue further studies or work as a teacher. Those who stayed on were called masters or magisters, and they were often eligible to eventually become Archmage, which is sort of like... the dean or master of the school. They don't teach anyone directly, but they're mostly there to make the large decisions and keep the place running." He pauses. "There's also the implication... that the Archmage is the most... experienced, or powerful, or gifted, or acclaimed Mage out of the Circle. That's why it's a position of honor." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"So is that why the last Archmage selected you?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68559'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Did you want to become Archmage?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68560'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Where were the other Mage colleges?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68561'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Do you think I could have been Archmage, if I'd gone here?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68562'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"How do you know who to admit to the Circle?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68563'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Red shrugs, smiling in a humble way. "He never said. I suppose I showed the most magical potential of my age group; and I got along with everybody. I was the representative for my year. But there were more experienced teachers, Magisters who'd been at the Circle for a while..." He shrugs again. "I suppose we'll never know why." <<include 'solhadurhistory2'>>

Red pauses, chewing on it for a moment. "Not really," he says after a moment, his grin bright and guileless. "Tell the truth, I never saw it coming. I often wonder if it was a mistake—some delusion he had towards the end—or if I was the fallback, and the true candidate wasn't available." He shrugs. "It's a great honor to be Archmage, of course. Few ever achieve it, especially at my age. So I'm content. It can be stressful, bearing the brunt of responsibility for the entire Circle, but..." His grin widens. "Joining the Shepherds helps. A lot." Then he looks away. "Tell the truth, I didn't have many ambitions outside of this job, so in a way, it's elevated me beyond what I could have achieved if I <i>hadn't</i> become Archmage. After I graduated, I was looking forward to a solitary but adventurous life Traveling. Exploring old ruins, conducting research, things like that. I can still do that, of course. The Circle doesn't need me present all the time; just for the big decisions, or in times of crisis. But it's... a different life than the one I expected, to be sure. In more good ways than bad, so I suppose there's that. I'll grow into it." <<include 'solhadurhistory2'>>

Red thinks on it. "The league of seven, you mean? There were a lot more scattered all over, of course, but if we're talking about the major ones... Capra for Solhadur, obviously. Then Caprona, Stroud, Calta, Sion, Ambryn, Haven..." Your lips quirk. "There was a Mage school in Haven?" "Oh, yes," Red says, his tone a bit sad. "One of the biggest in the world. Archmage Tangriel, the one who built the Shepherds' tower, once led it. Before he retired... and then disappeared." <<include 'solhadurhistory2'>>

Red glances at you briefly, curiosity evident in his gaze. "Can't I say I know," he says, his tone light and breezy. "You're certainly magically-gifted, that much is clear. But beyond that, I don't know how you would have acted in the Circle, whether Archmage Tevanti would have liked you, whether you would have gotten along with others... Some of them are even more eccentric than me, you see." He smiles at you. "I think you would have been eligible, at least." <<include 'solhadurhistory2'>>

"Well, back in the day, there would have been exams, lots of testing and trials," Red muses. "Solhadur was extremely difficult to get into. Nowadays, we just administer the Seven Trials—the seven tests used to formally determine if a magic user is a Mage or a Hedgewitch—and call it a day. Can't afford to be picky in the age of the Autarchy." <<include 'solhadurhistory2'>>

Then he glances at you, inquisitive. "So you really don't know much about it all? How did you learn magic, if you don't mind my asking?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if ($education is "Self-taught")>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I taught myself, using stolen books." You say it proudly: you didn't have the safety cushion of the Circle like he did. The struggle made you stronger, cleverer, and more independent.</div>' 'autogenerated_68564'>><<setcourage +1>><<setcunning +1>><<setred +1>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($education is "Self-taught")>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I taught myself, using stolen books." You say it a bit quickly, looking away. You can't help but feel a bit envious and insecure in the presence of much more learned Mages.</div>' 'autogenerated_68565'>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($education is "Journeyman")>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I had a master who taught me everything he knew. Belnus Farplane. He was a genius." You say it proudly: you loved your old master, and you're confident that you're more worldly than Mages who spent their time stuffed up in libraries with their noses in books.</div>' 'autogenerated_68566'>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($education is "Journeyman")>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I had a master, a wandering Mage. He taught me what he could." You look away and say it with a bit of shame: what scraps Belnus taught you were useful, but you know one man could never measure up to years of formal education.</div>' 'autogenerated_68567'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Why do you care?" You're defensive. The Circle isn't all that great, and you get the sense he's being high and mighty.</div>' 'autogenerated_68568'>><<setred -5>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Red smiles at your defiant tone. "I admire you," he says. "I can't imagine having to resort to stealing spellbooks, fearing persecution if I was ever caught. Risking death just for the sake of education." He looks at you, his gaze warm. "I admire your resourcefulness and courage." You stare at him. You were half-expecting an argument, not praise. <<include 'ohred'>>

Red catches your expression and frowns. "Hey," he says, touching your shoulder. "It's nothing to be ashamed of. In fact, I admire you—I can't imagine what it must have been like, risking your very survival in order to teach yourself. I couldn't have done it, not on my own." He smiles at you, reassuring and warm. "Trust me, you're far cleverer and more resourceful than I could ever hope to be." You stare at him. You have to admit, you were expecting him to be snobby, not... praise you. <<include 'ohred'>>

Red nods his head slowly. "I haven't heard of him, but it seems the kind of dramatic name very powerful Mages assume. What kind of Mage was he?" <<include 'belnusjack'>>

Red catches your expression and lays a sympathetic hand on your shoulder. "I'm sure you learned a lot," he says gently. "With a dramatic name like that, he was bound to be a powerful Mage. What did he specialize in?" <<include 'belnusjack'>>

He glances at you, blinks at your tone—but his expression never changes from that placid, mild-mannered look. For some reason you briefly want to hit him. "I'm just making conversation," Red says politely, "but if you don't want to talk about it, that's all right." Deftly, he changes topics, and you manage to relax after a few minutes of incredibly pleasant and neutral conversation. <<include 'askrednotknow'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Look away and blush. "Um... thanks."</div>' 'autogenerated_68569'>><<set $redromanceflag += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Nod curtly. "Glad you can understand my point of view."</div>' 'autogenerated_68570'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Smile back. "And I admire your wisdom and knowledge. We both have things to learn from each other."</div>' 'autogenerated_68571'>><<setcharisma +3>><<setred +3>><<set $redromanceflag += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Frown at him. "So long as you're not patronizing me."</div>' 'autogenerated_68572'>><<setred -3>><<setcharisma -3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Red smiles slightly. "You're welcome." <<include 'askrednotknow'>>

Red nods in return. "Of course." <<include 'askrednotknow'>>

Red smiles back at you, soft and gentle and admiring. "I agree." <<include 'askrednotknow'>>

Red laughs softly. "Trust me, I'm not." <<include 'askrednotknow'>>

"He was sort of a jack-of-all-trades," you say, trying to remember. "But I think he must have specialized in Traveling. He would wander all over the Continent, committing places to memory so he could return to them via magic." Red smiles. "Just like me." You blink. Belnus was an old, solemn, sometimes cantankerous and anti-social man; he loathed self-pity and thought a hot shower was the solution if you were ever feeling sad. "Wallowing," he used to say, "is the most disgusting thing in the world." You can't imagine anyone more different from this kind, forthright, sympathetic young man. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You shake your head. "You're far nicer than he was."</div>' 'autogenerated_68573'>><<setred +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You smile. "You're at least far better-looking than he was."</div>' 'autogenerated_68574'>><<setred +3>><<set $redromanceflag += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You frown. "Belnus was a great man, and a very dedicated Mage. You're nothing alike."</div>' 'autogenerated_68575'>><<setred -5>><<setcharisma -5>><<set $redromanceflag -= 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Look away. "I wish you had taught me. My relationship with Belnus was... sometimes rocky."</div>' 'autogenerated_68576'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Red grins. "You think I'm nice?" You roll your eyes. "<i>Everybody</i> does." "Hm. I suppose I couldn't maintain my reputation of fearsome Archmage for long." You chat a bit more before the conversation drifts to other topics. <<include 'askrednotknow'>>

Red's tan face splits in a boyish grin. "You think I'm good-looking?" You roll your eyes. "Anyone with eyes would." Red's grin widens; he casts a lingering glance at you. "I could say the same about you." You laugh, and for a moment you just stare at each other before looking away. <<include 'askrednotknow'>>

Red winces. "Ouch. I'm that pathetic, in your eyes?" "You're just nothing like my old master, that's all." Red smiles ruefully. "Duly noted." <<include 'askrednotknow'>>

Red frowns, then lays a hand on your shoulder. "I'm sorry to hear that. If you ever want any pointers—" But you look away, and he falls silent, as if he knows that was the wrong thing to say. Awkward silence descends upon you both. <<include 'askrednotknow'>>

<<nobr>><<if $specialization is "conjurer">> Red glances at you curiously. "You're a Conjurer yourself, aren't you? Your magic is very similar to mine. The same way you can summon things from thin air? I summon <i>myself</i>—to some other place." He stretches, cracking his knuckles. "It's a bit rarer than most types of arcane magic, but there are a fair bit of us around. Mainly, we translocate—teleport instantaneously from place to place. Everybody does it differently, too. Some people are 'seven-league-booters'—they translocate in hops, several leagues or miles at a time. It's a bit slower, but safer." <<else>> Red glances at you curiously. "Well, it's not a very common specialization of magic—it's a subset of Conjuring—but it's not totally rare, either. You know how a Conjurer can summon things from thin air, call objects to them? It's sort of like that, but I summon <i>myself</i>—to some other place." He stretches, cracking his knuckles. "It's called translocation—teleporting instantaneously from place to place. Everybody does it differently, but the best Travelers can be on one end of the Continent and then at the next, generally within a few minutes to a few hours. Some people are 'seven-league-booters'—they translocate in hops, several leagues at a time, you see. The process is all a blur as you zip from place to place. Like leapfrogging on lilypads. That method's a bit slower, but safer."<</if>><</nobr>> "I'm guessing that's not the kind you are?" you infer. Red shakes his head with a rueful grin. "Nope. I'm an apparationer—the kind of Traveler who dissolves in one place and appears in the other, almost instantaneously. I've never taken more than a few minutes to show up at a place. It's faster, but more dangerous, as well—you could end up scrambled into a wall or in pieces underground, if you're not careful." "Do you employ any other kind of magic?" you ask. Red nods. "I'm quite strong in most types of arcane magic, though I'm hopeless at Shifting my own body. Substances, and especially liquids, I can do. I used to get top marks in Binding. And of course, I lean towards other kinds of Conjuration. Summoning... I summon spirits occasioally, but based on past experiences, I'm <i>extremely</i> careful about it, and only do it sparingly. I'm fair at astral magic, too: not a great Healer, but fire is something I can work with. Elementalism always seemed like it ought to be an arcane branch, to me. Psionic magic, though, I'm hopeless at. I used to throw up after trying to Enchant people, if you can believe it." He suddenly notices he's rambling and shoots you a sheepish grin. "Sorry. You asked a simple question and I gave an over-long answer. Story of my life." <<include "askrednotknow">>

Red grins. "I have no idea what you're talking about." <<include 'askrednotknow'>>

Red shrugs. "So does most magic, I think. But I still like using it." <<include 'askrednotknow'>>

Red nods. "Sure—but I've got to warn you, its weight can be... unpredictable." He stands and passes you the warhammer. <<nobr>> <<if $strength gte 45>> <<if $redromanceflag gte 5>> <<set $redromanceflag += 1>> <</if>> Immediately, you feel the weapon warming under your hand, and when you heft the hammer, it feels light and ready in your grip. <br><br> You smirk at Red, who looks a little surprised. "This is easy." <br><br> He laughs and takes the hammer back from you, spinning it in a deft circle before reclaiming his seat on the ground. "I'm impressed. Seems like you're always the exception to the rule, <<c halfname2>>." <<else>> Immediately, the unbalanced weight of it feels awkward in your hands; you falter, and the hammer drops down into the dust. When you try to pick it up again, it remains stubbornly heavy, as immovable as an anvil. <br><br> Red chuckles. "It's all right. It does that for everybody." <br><br> He takes the hammer back from you, and you resume your seats. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "askrednotknow">> <<include ''>>

Red cocks his head. "About my personal life? Shoot." <<include "redpersonal">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("redinvolved")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Are you involved with anybody?"</div>' 'redinvolved'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("redsinterestsandhobbies")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Do you have any interests or hobbies?"</div>' 'redsinterestsandhobbies'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("redsfamilyquestions")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Do you have family?"</div>' 'redsfamilyquestions'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("redfriendlychoices")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"How are you so friendly all the time?"</div>' 'redfriendlychoices'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You're done with the personal questions.</div>' 'askrednotknow'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Red laughs. "You mean, besides Traveling, exploring ruins, researching magic, leading the Circle, and reading voraciously?" He leans back and thinks about it. "I'm a fair hand at horseback riding, and I like to swim. I like to travel and see new cities, meet new people... and, eh..." He looks at you sheepishly. "...That's about it. Like most Mages, I'm kind of obsessed with a few things, and those things take over my life." <<include "redpersonal">>

He smiles. "I do. Four older sisters and my parents. We used to all live in Caprona, but after the kids grew up, my parents moved to Stroud. They're court scribes, and so is my sister Gwyn. Idalia, the oldest, is very... forceful? She travels the Continent, trying to get to spellbooks before the Autarchy can burn them first. Isodel, the second-oldest, is a traveler—that's with a lower-case T—who records stories, myths, and legends from local villages, to try and preserve them from being lost to time. Lydda is a librarian in Ambryn, and Gwyn—Gwyneth—is a court scribe, as I said." He pauses, then smiles to himself. "We're all rather close, though we don't see each other as much as we'd like. They come to visit our family home every Wintersun—maybe I can get them to visit the Shepherds' compound, sometime. They'd go wild over the prospect of visiting Haven." <<include "redpersonal">>

Red grins. "Am I? I've been known to be irritable." "I've never seen it." He snorts a laugh. "See, I always find it strange that people find a cheerful demeanor strange. It makes them suspicious, like I'm up to something, or I'm faking it... But would you ask Chase how he can be so... blithe and ridiculous all the time? Or would you ask Blade why he's so dour constantly? Or did you not think twice about it and assumed that's just how they are, that's their natural personalities?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I <i>have</i> asked them about that, though."</div>' 'autogenerated_68581'>><<setcourage +1>><<setred +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I guess you have a point."</div>' 'autogenerated_68582'>><<setred +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I don't buy it. Something's up."</div>' 'autogenerated_68583'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Red breaks into a fit of laughter. "Oh. Then I guess my answer wouldn't differ from theirs... That's just how I am, I suppose?" <<include 'redpersonal'>>

He smiles at you, then winks. "That's kind of my thing, too. Being friendly and right most of the time." <<include 'redpersonal'>>

He laughs. "Whatever you want to believe." <<include 'redpersonal'>>

<<nobr>><<if $redromanceflag gte 7>> <<set $redromanceflag += 1>> <</if>>Red casts you a shrewd look, but doesn't ask you why you want to know. "Not at the moment," he says dryly. "Pan and Neon might tell you I had a reputation for being a serial dater back in school—though I was a perfectly normal teenager, in my opinion—but after becoming Archmage, there's just been no... time." <<if $redromanceflag gte 8>> He trails off, looks at you, and seems to lose his train of thought. "And no, ah..." He blinks rapidly. "Er... right candidates, for the... position." <<include "nocandidatesred">> <</if>> <<if $red gte 55>> Then he glances at you. "What about you? Anyone special in the life of <<c firstname>>?" <<include "redromanceoptions">> <<else>> <<include "redpersonal">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Oh, so you had lots of people lining up to apply?" <b>[JOKE]</b></div>' 'autogenerated_68584'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You bat your eyelashes. "Maybe that will change soon." <b>[FLIRT]</b></div>' 'autogenerated_68585'>><<set $redromanceflag += 3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"And what constitutes a 'right person', exactly?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68586'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

A blush creeps up Red's neck, but he laughs. "If there were, I never noticed the applications piling up," he jokes. "Didn't pay the proper attention." Then he glances at you. "What about you? Anyone special in the life of <<c firstname>>?" <<include 'redromanceoptions'>>

Red contemplates you for several long moments, a wry smile quirking his mouth. "Maybe it will," he acknowledges mildly, his green eyes lingering on your face. Then he clears his throat and glances casually away. "What about you? Anyone special in the life of <<c firstname>>?" <<include 'redromanceoptions'>>

Red laughs, a little surprised by the question. "Oh, I don't know," he says, a bit too-breezily. "There hasn't exactly been a discernible pattern, in my past. I suppose I like someone—kind? Intelligent? Independent?" "So the most generic person possible," you drone sarcastically. "Got it." Red grins. "I suppose I'm not too picky." Then he glances at you. "What about you? Anyone special in the life of <<c firstname>>?" <<include 'redromanceoptions'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if ($redromanceflag gte 8)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">You look away. He can't know you're thinking of him! Not yet. "I'm, ah, not sure yet... We'll see."</div>' 'autogenerated_68587'>><<set $redromanceflag += 3>><<setred +3>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($highestromance is "blade")>><<link '<div class="choice-item">You smile. "Maybe... Blade?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68588'>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($highestromance is "trouble")>><<link '<div class="choice-item">You smile. "I think I'm getting there with Trouble."</div>' 'autogenerated_68589'>><</link>><</if>> <<if (($highestromance is "tallys") or ($tallyssex is true))>><<link '<div class="choice-item">You smile. "I have something going with Tallys."</div>' 'autogenerated_68590'>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($highestromance is "shery") and $part >= 5>><<link '<div class="choice-item">You smile. "I'm interested in Shery."</div>' 'autogenerated_68591'>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($highestromance is "riel") and $part >= 5>><<link '<div class="choice-item">You smile. "I'm starting to have feelings for Riel."</div>' 'autogenerated_68592'>><</link>><</if>> <<if (($highestromance is "chase") or ($chasesex is true))>><<link '<div class="choice-item">You smile. "I have something going on with Chase."</div>' 'autogenerated_68593'>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($highestromance is "ayla")>><<link '<div class="choice-item">You smile. "I'm very into Ayla."</div>' 'autogenerated_68594'>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($highestromance is "briony") and $brionyjoin is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">You smile. "I really like Briony."</div>' 'autogenerated_68595'>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($highestromance is "lavinet") and $lavinetjoin is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">You smile. "I'm wild about Lavinet."</div>' 'autogenerated_68596'>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($prihineromance is true)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">You smile. "I... may have done something with Prihine."</div>' 'autogenerated_68597'>><</link>><</if>> <<if (($aro is true) or ($aroace is true))>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Shake your head. "I don't feel that type of attraction. Towards anyone."</div>' 'autogenerated_68598'>><<set $redromanceflag to 0>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You shrug. "No, not really."</div>' 'autogenerated_68599'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You shrug. "No one yet."</div>' 'autogenerated_68600'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You shake your head. "I'm too busy to think about things like that."</div>' 'autogenerated_68601'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Red smiles, but doesn't press you for any more details. <<include 'redpersonal'>>

Red blinks, then smiles. "Really? The Commander? I didn't know you were so ambitious." You laugh and bump his shoulder. "It's not like that." Red smiles to himself. "I know." <<include 'redpersonal'>>

Red blinks, then smiles. "Good luck with that. <<nobr>><<if $part gte 5>> He's a good man, but quite dense."<<else>> From what you've told me so far, he sounds like a good man, if a bit dense." <</if>><</nobr>> You sigh. "Don't I know it." He gestures to himself. "Well, if you ever need advice or help... I'm always here." "Thanks." "Any time." <<include 'redpersonal'>>

Red blinks, then smiles. <<nobr>><<if $part >= 5>>"I thought something might have been going on. <<else>>"Really? The Elven archer you were telling me about? <</if>><</nobr>>Congratulations." You fight a blush. "I don't know if it's anything worth congratulating." "Good for you, I should say," Red says amiably. "I'm sure you two will be happy together." You keep talking, and eventually the conversation turns to other things. <<include 'redpersonal'>>

Red blinks, then smiles. "Shery? Good for you. She's very sweet. I think you two will be happy together." You smile. "I hope so." You keep talking, and eventually the conversation turns to other things. <<include 'redpersonal'>>

Red blinks, then smiles. "That's great. He's a great man, and so are you. I think you two would be very happy together." You smile. "I think so, too." You keep talking, and eventually the conversation turns to other things. <<include 'redpersonal'>>

Red blinks, then looks briefly horrified. "<i>Really</i>? I mean, I should have known, given how you two act with each other, but... wow." You nod, thinking of your encounters with the unpredictable and mischievous thief. "Yeah... wow." Red looks at you. "What is <i>that</i> like?" You smile to yourself. "I don't even know if I can explain..." You keep talking, the conversation punctured by Red's exclamations of surprise or dismay, and eventually the talk turns to other things. <<include 'redpersonal'>>

Red blinks, then smiles. "I can see that. She's very forceful, but loyal to those she loves. And I can tell she might feel something towards you, as well." <<include 'redpersonal'>>

Red blinks, then smiles. "That's no surprise. She's sweet, compassionate, and clever. And she can lift you and throw you like a rubber ball. No wonder she's always smiling when you're around." <<include 'redpersonal'>>

Red blinks, then smiles. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised. She's a beautiful noblewoman—half the city's in love with her." He winks at you. "I'm sure you have a fairer shot than the rest of them, though." <<include 'redpersonal'>>

For a moment, Red doesn't seem to know who you mean; and then the color drains from his face. "You mean, that girl you were serving as a bodyguard for, before you joined the Order? <i>That</i> Prihine?" You nod. "Yup." Red drags a hand over his face. "Well, I'd say something about unprofessionalism—but I doubted anyone ever let that get in the way of their feelings." Then he smiles at you. "Good for you." <<include 'redpersonal'>>

Red grimaces. "Sorry about that. I shouldn't have assumed." <<include 'yourefinedred'>>

Red nods. "That's fair." <<include 'redpersonal'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You wave him off. "You're fine."</div>' 'autogenerated_68602'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Well, now you know."</div>' 'autogenerated_68603'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"That'll teach you for next time."</div>' 'autogenerated_68604'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

The talk resumes and eventually turns to other topics. <<include 'redpersonal'>>

<<set $redstatus to "You're getting to know him better.">>You talk for a while longer, but it's not before long that Panrachus and Saleneon, Red's friends, appear on the other end of the courtyard. "Yoohoo!" Pan shouts, waving his hand in a flirtatious manner. His other hand hefts a tall bottle of lemonade. <<nobr>><<if $part gt 4>> "Shery said we could polish this off!" <<else>> "Raven said we could polish this off!" <</if>> <<if $redromanceflag gte 10>> Then he casts you a shrewd look. "Unless you two are busy… getting acquainted?" <br><br> Neon nudges him sharply while Red groans. "Could you, for once in your life, not be so insufferable?" <br><br> Pan grins and approaches, throwing himself down next to you. "Nope, sorry. It's in my genes. And no amount of Shifting can change it." <br><br> Red rolls his eyes just as Neon gives you a rather formal bow and takes a seat on Pan's other side. <br><br> "So," Pan says wickedly, holding up the bottle, "what say we change this into some liquor and get day-drunk?" <<else>> He approaches and throws himself down next to you, Neon scampering after him and giving you a rather formal bow. "So, what say we change this into some liquor and get day-drunk?" <</if>><</nobr>> "We're Shepherds now," Red says, rather severely. "It'd be unprofessional—conduct unbefitting officers of our rank." Pan rolls his eyes. "Just because <i>you</i> always throw up—" "Pan!" You laugh, and you spend the rest of your time with them whiling the hours away under the warm afternoon sun, the red apples swaying gently above you. <<include "redover">>

Red asks you about your life after the Circle, about your various adventures and trials. You tell him about everything in detail—your travels throughout the years, the things you've seen and done. Then you get to protecting Prihine, then meeting Caine, and then everything else that happened afterwards. Red listens attentively the entire time, nodding and prompting you with more questions. The time wiles away with a kind of gentle, sleepy contentment. Then, both subtly and abruptly, something changes. You feel it, and yet you can't quite explain it; it's just a sense you have. Red is still listening to you talk, but his demeanor seems… preoccupied. As if he's thinking hard about something else. <<nobr>><<if $redrelationship is "ex">> Then he catches your look and looks away, clearing his throat. When he looks back, he's smiling in a forced, awkward way. "So—ah. Are we… going to talk about it?" <br><br> "Talk about what?" you ask. <br><br> Red rubs the back of his neck, faux-casual. "Oh, you know. The fact that we used to go out, and now we're working together for the foreseeable future…" He glances back at you. "You don't find it… awkward?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"We were kids! That was so long ago. It doesn't affect me at all, honestly."</div>' 'autogenerated_68605'>><<set $redromanceflag -= 2>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I mean, it is a <i>little</i> strange, but I'm very glad you're here. I'm glad that I found you again."</div>' 'autogenerated_68606'>><<set $redromanceflag += 1>><<setred +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"It is pretty awkward, isn't it? I never imagined fighting demons with someone I used to get caught in closets with."</div>' 'autogenerated_68607'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Look away. It is <i>extremely</i> awkward, even if you've been trying to pretend otherwise.</div>' 'autogenerated_68608'>><<set $redromanceflag -= 1>><<setred -5>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <<elseif $redrelationship is "friend">> <<include "askredknow2_friend">> <<else>> <<include "askredknow2_other">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Red laughs in a slightly forced way. "Good. Me—me, too." <<include 'askredknow2_continue'>>

Red smiles at you, his eyes soft. "Me, too, $halfname2," he says softly. "It's almost hard to believe sometimes, but… I am very glad that I found you again, too." Then he looks away.<<nobr>><<if $redromanceflag gte 10>> "It… almost feels as if a piece of me was missing all that time, and I didn't even realize it. And now it… you… are back again. And all feels right with the world. Like I'm… clear-headed again. Strange, isn't it?" <<else>> "It always felt strange, being in Solhadur without you around." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'askredknow2_continue'>>

Red laughs. "Trust me, I never imagined it, either. But… I am glad it happened." <<include 'askredknow2_continue'>>

Red reads your mind, as always, and rubs the back of his neck. "…Ah. Right." Then he looks back at you, earnest. "We can… work on it, can't we?" <<include 'cantweworkonitred'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Nod. "Yes, of course."</div>' 'autogenerated_68609'>><<set $redromanceflag += 1>><<setred +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Shrug. "I'm trying."</div>' 'autogenerated_68610'>><<set $redromanceflag -= 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Shake your head. "I don't know."</div>' 'autogenerated_68611'>><<set $redromanceflag to 0>><<setred -3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

He smiles and looks away. "Thanks." <<include 'askredknow2_continue'>>

His face falls, but he doesn't say much to that. "Er… thanks." <<include 'askredknow2_continue'>>

Red doesn't seem to know what to say to that. <<include 'askredknow2_continue'>>

<<nobr>><<romancecalc>><<if $redromanceflag gte 10>> Then he glances back at you, seemingly chewing on whether or not he should say this next part. When he begins, his voice is rough and awkward. "Have you, er…" He trails off, then meets your eye; you smile at each other nervously, and in an instant, you know what he's trying to say. <br><br> "Have I been with anyone else?" you infer. <br><br> Red chuckles softly. "Yeah. That." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Here and there. But it never meant anything in the long run."</div>' 'autogenerated_68612'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"There was someone, a long while ago. It's well and over, now."</div>' 'autogenerated_68613'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"No. You were the last person I was with romantically."</div>' 'autogenerated_68614'>><<set $redromanceflag += 3>><<setred +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"It's really none of your business, is it?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68615'>><<set $redromanceflag -= 5>><<setred -3>><</link>> <<if $highestromance is "blade">><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I think I'm starting to like Blade."</div>' 'autogenerated_68616'>><<set $redromanceflag -= 1>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($highestromance is "tallys") or ($tallyssex is true)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Well... I've sort of started something with Tallys..."</div>' 'autogenerated_68617'>><<set $redromanceflag -= 1>><</link>><</if>> <<if $highestromance is "shery">><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Well... now that you mention it, there's just something about Shery..."</div>' 'autogenerated_68618'>><<set $redromanceflag -= 1>><</link>><</if>> <<if $highestromance is "trouble">><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm getting there with Trouble."</div>' 'autogenerated_68619'>><<set $redromanceflag -= 1>><</link>><</if>> <<if $highestromance is "riel">><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm really interested in Riel, if you must know."</div>' 'autogenerated_68620'>><<set $redromanceflag -= 1>><</link>><</if>> <<if $highestromance is "chase" or $chasesex is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"...Chase..."</div>' 'autogenerated_68621'>><<set $edromanceflag -= 1>><</link>><</if>> <<if $highestromance is "ayla">><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I like Ayla, if that counts."</div>' 'autogenerated_68622'>><<set $redromanceflag -= 1>><</link>><</if>> <<if $highestromance is "briony" and $brionyjoin is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm really into Briony, to tell you the truth."</div>' 'autogenerated_68623'>><<set $redromanceflag -= 1>><</link>><</if>> <<if $highestromance is "lavinet" and $lavinetjoin is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm head over heels for Lavinet, honestly."</div>' 'autogenerated_68624'>><<set $redromanceflag -= 1>><</link>><</if>> <<if $prihineromance is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I... may have had an encounter with... Prihine."</div>' 'autogenerated_68625'>><<set $redromanceflag -= 1>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Why? Jealous?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68626'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <<else>> <<include "redknowtalkend">> <</if>> <</nobr>>

Red hums, as if he understands exactly what you mean. <<include 'redex'>>

Red glances at you curiously, but seems to know better than to press for details. "I'm sorry to hear that." You shrug. "Don't be. It's better this way, trust me." He makes a humming sound. "I can understand that." <<include 'redex'>>

He starts to grin at you, slow and sly. "<i>Really</i>?" <<include 'redex1'>>

Red looks away. "No. Of course not. Forgive me." <<include 'redex'>>

Red blinks for a moment, then smiles. Something about it seems a bit forced. "The Commander? You always were ambitious." You punch his shoulder. "Stop. It's not like that." Red huffs a laugh and then looks away. "I know." <<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag gte 15>> Then he snorts. "So <i>that's</i> why he hates me! No wonder he looked like he wanted to murder me!" <br><br> You stare at him. "When?" <br><br> Red waves a hand. "Never mind." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'redex'>>

Red blinks for a moment, then smiles. Something about it seems a bit forced. "Good for you. I hope you two are happy together." You shrug. "It's a casual thing… for now." Red's mouth quirks. "I get it. Trust me, I know what that's like." <<include 'redex'>>

Red blinks for a moment, then smiles. Something about it seems a bit forced. "Good for you. <<nobr>> <<if $part >= 5>> She's sweet and cute—I hope you two are happy together." <<else>> She's the quartermaster you talked about, right? I hope you two are happy together." <</if>><</nobr>> You smile back. "I hope so, too." <<include 'redex'>>

Red blinks for a moment, then smiles. Something about it seems a bit forced. "Good for you. <<nobr>> <<if $part >= 5>>He's the sharpshooter you were telling me about, right? He sounds like a good man. <<else>> He's a good man. <</if>> I hope you two are happy together." <</nobr>> You smile back. "I hope so, too. If he would just stop being an idiot about it." Red cracks his knuckles. "If you ever need me to talk some sense into him…" You laugh. "I appreciate the offer." <<include 'redex'>>

Red blinks for a moment, then smiles. Something about it seems a bit forced. "Good for you. <<nobr>> <<if $part >= 5>> He's that brilliant tactician you mentioned, right? I hope you two are happy together." <<else>> He's brilliant, and great, and you're great… I know you two would be happy together." <</if>><</nobr>> You smile. "We have to get there, first." <<include 'redex'>>

For a moment, Red's smile falters; then he slaps it back on with force. "Ah," he says, his tone a bit too cheery. "That… how interesting. I… I could see it. You two <i>are</i> always flirting." You nudge him. "What? You don't approve?" "I'm just trying to understand," Red says, his cheerful face dropping into one of dismay. "It's like trying to date a hurricane, or—or a demon…" You sit back. "That's why I like him." Red snorts. "Fair enough." <<include 'redex'>>

Red blinks for a moment, then smiles. "Really? I could see it. She's very… forceful?" You look at him. "Is that supposed to be a compliment?" He laughs. "Just a statement of fact. But if anyone can, ah, settle her, it's you." <<include 'redex'>>

Red blinks for a moment, then smiles. Something about it seems a bit forced. "Good for you. I really like her, and she's cute, and strong, and compassionate. I think you two would be very happy together." You smile. "I think so, too." <<include 'redex'>>

Red blinks for a moment, then smiles. Something about it seems a bit forced. "That's no surprise. She's beautiful and refined and terribly clever, if a bit… domineering." You look at him. "Is that supposed to be a compliment?" He laughs. "Just a statement of fact. But if anyone can make her happy, it's you." <<include 'redex'>>

Red freezes, blinks rapidly, then stares at you. You told him all about your work, guarding Prihine, but not about that night. "Which Prihine? No—you bedded your <i>client</i>?" You smile ruefully. "Yes?" He absorbs it for a few more moments, then snorts. "I don't know why I was the one who got stuck with the playboy reputation," he mutters. "That clearly should have been you." You laugh. "Shut up." He shakes his head self-righteously. "Very unprofessional conduct, <<c rank>> <<c surname>>." Then he softens, glancing at you. "…But I hope it was worth it." You smile to yourself. "It was." Red nods. "Good." <<include 'redex'>>

"Just… curious," Red says, raising his hands in a placating gesture. "I don't think I'd have a right to be jealous—it would have been pretty stupid of me to expect you to remain chaste forever after me, wouldn't it?" <<include 'redex'>>

You look at him expectantly. "What about you?" He gives you a sidelong, wry kind of smile. "Do you really want to know?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Of course."</div>' 'autogenerated_68627'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"On second thought, not really."</div>' 'autogenerated_68628'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Red huffs a quiet laugh. "There was… an attempt," he admits, running a hand through his vivid red hair. "Not anyone in the Circle. An… Enchantress, living in a cabin deep in the Frostwood. I came across her home once on a trip to some ruins and tended to use it afterwards for meals, quick stopovers. Then that turned into a rendezvous, of sorts. But…" He shrugs. "It was a disaster. I would not recommend trying anything similar." <<include 'ithinkigetthepicturered'>>

He huffs a quiet laugh. "Fair enough." <<include 'redknowtalkend'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Details. Now."</div>' 'autogenerated_68629'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I think I get the gist..."</div>' 'autogenerated_68630'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"Let's just say, there was a reason why she was living there all alone," Red says lightly. "And let's say that she thought the key to a healthy relationship was enslaving her suitors' minds so that they'd never leave her." "Yikes." "Exactly." He smiles at you. "I've sworn off the whole romantic pursuit thing since." You shake your head. "And here I thought I had the honor." Red laughs. "You were close." <<include 'redknowtalkend'>>

Red smiles. "Good. I'll spare you the gory details." <<include 'redknowtalkend'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Punch him in the shoulder. "Don't get big-headed, ass."</div>' 'autogenerated_68631'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You nod. "Just never met anyone else I was interested in."</div>' 'autogenerated_68632'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You shrug. "Too busy to think about things like that."</div>' 'autogenerated_68633'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You scoff. "Not exactly a smart thing, getting involved with someone outside when you're a Mage."</div>' 'autogenerated_68634'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You sigh. "It just never worked out with anyone."</div>' 'autogenerated_68635'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Red strokes his chin thoughtfully. "I see…" <<include 'redex'>>

"What is it?" you ask, after you catch him staring at you for the fifth time. Red smiles. "It's nothing," he says, shaking his head wonderingly. "Just… thinking about how strange life is. I once thought you were one of my closest, most precious friends. And then we went our separate ways, and… life went on, and I was convinced we'd never meet again. I had all kinds of regrets. Why did I think it would be so easy for us to keep in touch, to stay close? It was youthful ignorance, and I always regretted it. Always… wondered where you were. And then, when we needed you the most—when <i>I</i> needed you the most—you showed up again. Out of the blue, with an army at your back and a solution to all our problems. It's just…" He shakes his head. "It seems almost too good to be true." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Take his hand. "I feel the same way. Not many people get chances like this. Let's make the most of it."</div>' 'autogenerated_68636'>><<set $redromanceflag += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Hug him. "I missed you so much."</div>' 'autogenerated_68637'>><<set $redromanceflag += 1>><<setred +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Look away. "It's been a long time. I don't know if I can just pick up exactly where we left off, just like that. We're different people, so we need time to... adjust."</div>' 'autogenerated_68638'>><<set $redromanceflag -= 3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Shake your head. "It was both our mistake. I should have tried harder, too."</div>' 'autogenerated_68639'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Red smiles, then squeezes his hand. "I agree." <<include 'askredknow2_friend2'>>

It's no time at all before he wraps his arms around you and hugs you tight; it feels at once very familiar, the warmth and scent of him, and also strange: he's so much taller, stronger, lean with an adult muscle you don't remember him having before. And yet it all feels right. When you draw away, you find that you and Red are both smiling, and he presses a kiss to the crown of your head. "I missed you, too," he murmurs. "And I promise, I won't take you for granted again." <<include 'askredknow2_friend2'>>

Red cocks his head at you, then touches your shoulder. "Do you really think things are that different?" You find yourself drawing away. Yes, things are different from when you were in school. You've become more… <<include 'youvebecomemorered'>>

Red shakes his head, then touches your hand. "To new starts," he says sincerely. You smile. "To starting over." <<include 'askredknow2_friend25'>>

<<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "askredknow2_friend2">><</link>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">...distant and cold. Life has made you that way.</div>' 'autogenerated_68640'>><<setcharisma -3>><<setcompassionate -3>><<setcunning +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">...shy and quiet. It's hard to break through that.</div>' 'autogenerated_68641'>><<setcharisma -3>><<setcourage -3>><<setintelligence +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">...impatient and brash. You don't have time to act like kids again.</div>' 'autogenerated_68642'>><<setcourage +3>><<setcharisma -3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">...nervous and skittish. It's hard to let anyone close.</div>' 'autogenerated_68643'>><<setcourage -3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

You feel the new difference as a gulf lying between you. It's strange. Looking at Red is like looking at the fractured image of a mirror. You recognize it, but it's different. And you can't put it back together exactly the same way. You feel Red's warm hand cover yours. "Hey," he says softly. "I get it. Truly, I do. How often do people just start acting like they did again after so many years? So… don't worry about it. We'll take it slow, start fresh." He offers you a reassuring smile. "It's okay." You nod, letting out a shaky breath, and his hand draws away. <<include 'askredknow2_friend25'>>

A few moments pass in contented silence. Then Red says: "I'm not sure if I'll be able to take you seriously, you know." "What do you mean?" He grins at you, almost cockily. "Everyone else sees the fearsome demon-slayer," he says. "But as your friend, I think it's my duty to remember you only as the student who drooled over $her textbooks whenever $she fell asleep studying." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'll kill you."</div>' 'autogenerated_68644'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Okay, <i>Archmage</i>. How about I only remember you as the kid who ripped his pants during Battle-Magic: Basic Evocations?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68645'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I never did that!"</div>' 'autogenerated_68646'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Groan. "I'm already regretting this decision."</div>' 'autogenerated_68647'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"You haven't yet," Red says innocently. <<include 'redknowtalkend'>>

Red puts a hand to his chest as if you'd slung an arrow through it. "I yield, I yield." <<include 'redknowtalkend'>>

"Oh, I beg to differ," Red says wickedly. "In fact I seem to recall several eye-witnesses—" You push his shoulder. "You're lying!" <<include 'redknowtalkend'>>

"I knew you would," Red says cheerfully. "It only took you a while to realize it." <<include 'redknowtalkend'>>

"What is it?" you ask, after you catch him staring at you for the fifth time. "You're staring." "Am I?" Red looks away, then back again. "It's… nothing, really, and if you don't want to talk about it, you can just say so." "Red. <i>What</i>?" He sighs. "It's just—Pan said something, right after Blade agreed to let us join. He said, 'I'm surprised <<c firstname>> allowed it. After all, $she always hated your guts.'" He looks at you. "That's not true, is it? You didn't <i>hate</i> me?" You stare at him. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Of course I did, you idiot. We were always competing for the best grades."</div>' 'whowouldnthatehim'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I didn't <i>hate</i> you. But we certainly didn't socialize much."</div>' 'autogenerated_68648'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"No, no, I never disliked you. I could just get very... competitive."</div>' 'autogenerated_68649'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Oh, I still hate you."</div>' 'ohistillhateyou'>><<setred -5>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"That's true," Red says, "but only because I always thought you were busy with your studies. I still considered you a friend." You resist the urge to roll your eyes. That's Red, always eternally friendly. It can be quite maddening in doses. <<include 'askredknow2_other2'>>

Red makes a humming sound of agreement. "That's true," he says, "but I always liked your fire. I considered us friends in spite of it." <<include 'askredknow2_other2'>>

And he was always so bloody civil and cheerful about it. Who <i>wouldn't</i> hate him? "Oh," Red says faintly. "We… were?" You want to throttle him. "I think I still hate you." "That's fair." <<include "askredknow2_other2">>

Red turns to stare at you. "Then why did you come seek me out?" You shrug. "We still need to have a civil working relationship. We can cooperate… but that doesn't mean I don't hate your guts." "What, over some grades in a class when we were <i>teenagers</i>?" "Yeah, among other things." He groans. "Great." <<include "askredknow2_other2">>

Then he turns to look at you. "But we're good now, right? We <i>can</i> work together?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Yeah, we're good."</div>' 'autogenerated_68650'>><<setred +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"That remains to be seen."</div>' 'autogenerated_68651'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Try and get on my good side, and then we'll see."</div>' 'autogenerated_68652'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Noncommittal grunt.</div>' 'autogenerated_68653'>><<setred -5>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

He smiles. "Good. I'm glad to hear it." <<include 'redknowtalkend'>>

Red sighs. "Fair enough." <<include 'redknowtalkend'>>

Red smiles slightly. "I'll do my very best." <<include 'redknowtalkend'>>

Red sighs and turns back to his contemplation of the sky. <<include 'redknowtalkend'>>

You talk for a good while longer, about everything and nothing, and you can't help but be lulled by the ease of the conversation. <<nobr>><<if $shepherdsknow is true>> <<page_break "..." "askredknow2_shepherds2">> <<else>> <<page_break "..." "panandneonarrive">> <</if>><</nobr>>

It's not until a few minutes of talking that Red's expression suddenly sobers, and the red-haired Mage turns to you with a quiet, almost unreadable expression. "There is… one other thing," he says hesitantly. "And I know it might be painful to discuss, so I'll make it quick. It's just—I've heard some things, from the others. And… I don't remember the Phantom Shore at all, nor really anything that happened in it. And yet I do think I remember a scrap of what you were thinking about, just before the Worldgate melded us, pulled us all in. Our consciousnesses were mingled, just for that one moment. Your village…" You look at him, and like a lightning strike the knowledge hits you that he <i>knows</i>. He knows everything. Well, maybe not everything, but— <<nobr>><<if $redrelationship is "ex" or $redrelationship is "friend">> "I knew that your village was destroyed on your birthday," Red says softly. "And I assumed—everyone knows that was the day all demons returned to Blest. So it made sense that it was an Endarkened who did it. It never occurred to me that there was anything else to the story. But I never knew…" <<else>> "I knew that you were an orphan," Red says softly. "But half the entire Circle was, it wasn't anything unusual. And I assumed that it had something to do with Endarkened. They returned around the same time for everybody, and the pieces just fit together. But I never knew…" <</if>><</nobr>> Yes, he knows most of it: your role in the events that destroyed your village, even the Words of Power. You can see it in his eyes. You feel that old hollow ache in your breastbone, as if someone had carved a hole in your chest and stuffed it full with wood shavings. You've known this hurt for almost as long as you can remember. And now Red knows it, too. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Turn away. "Stop talking. I can't talk about this with you."</div>' 'autogenerated_68654'>><<setred -5>><<set $redromanceflag -= 3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Glare at him. "Can you blame me for never saying anything? You didn't need to know. No one does!"</div>' 'autogenerated_68655'>><<setred -3>><<set $redromanceflag -= 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Close your eyes. "I didn't want you to pity me. Or worse... think I'm some kind of monster."</div>' 'ididntwantyoutopityme'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Look down at your hands. "I'm sorry I never told you. I just... I couldn't. I couldn't even think about it."</div>' 'autogenerated_68656'>><<setred +3>><<set $redromanceflag += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Wipe away the tears. "So? What do we do now?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68657'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Red looks away. "…Of course. Forgive me for bringing it up in the first place." A heavy silence falls over you both for a long, long time. <<include 'panandneonarrive5'>>

Red doesn't flinch at your sudden tirade, and the maddening sympathy in his eyes doesn't falter. "You're right," he says quietly. "If you don't want to talk about it, you don't need to. It's no one's knowledge but your own." He reaches out, as if to pat your shoulder, but you flinch away, and his hand drops away from you like a dead thing. He turns back to look out at the courtyard, and a heavy silence falls over you both for a long, long time. <<include 'panandneonarrive5'>>

To your surprise, you feel Red's long arms wrap around you and yank you into his solid chest. "Hey," he says, both soft and fierce at the same time. "Hey. It's not about that. You didn't owe me anything. Not a thing." He draws back and looks into your face, and you see how his eyes are green as seawater, gentle and sincere. He brushes your cheek with his thumb, though you don't think a tear is there. "I'm just telling you… that I'm here for you. Whenever you need, whatever you need. If you want to talk, or scream, or cry, or do nothing at all, or never talk about this again—I'm here. I just…" He suddenly draws away from you, letting out a shaky little breath. He runs a hand awkwardly through his vivid hair. "I just wanted to say I'm here for you," Red says with a slight smile. "That's all. Okay?" <<include 'fakesmile'>>

"Nothing," Red says, his warm green eyes radiating… care. Compassion. "I just wanted to tell you… that I'm here for you. Whenever you need, whatever you need. I want to be there for you, when… when you couldn't come to me before. No judgment, no… anything. Just know that I'm around. That's all." <<include 'fakesmile'>>

<<nobr>><<if $redrelationship is "ex" or $redrelationship is "friend">> <<setred +1>> To your surprise, you feel Red's long arms wrap around you and yank you into his solid chest. "Don't say that," he says into your hair, uncharacteristically fierce. You can hear his heart beating against your ear, a drumbeat warm and strong. "<i>Never</i> say that. I wouldn't ever think anything like that. I couldn't." He draws away to look into your eyes, and you see that his are gentle and sincere. "To me, you will always be <<c halfname2>>," he breathes, his hands clutching your shoulders with an almost bruising strength. "Nothing will ever change that. <i>Nothing</i>." <br><br> Then, as if realizing what he's doing, he suddenly releases you and draws back with a shaky breath. "I just…" He looks back at you and smiles, a tad sadly. "You don't owe me anything, <<c firstname>>. And I don't want you to ever think I'd… judge you, or pity you, or anything like that." He chucks your chin gently. "I just want you to know that I'm here for you. Whenever you need, and for whatever you want. Okay?" <br><br> <<include "fakesmile">> <<else>> Red reaches out, as if to touch your shoulder; his hand hovers in the air between you like an uncertain dragonfly. "Hey," he says softly. "I would never think anything like that. I just want you to know that I'm here for you. For whatever you need, whenever you need." <<include "redrivalcomfort">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Shrug him off. "I don't need anything from anyone. I'm just fine by myself."</div>' 'autogenerated_68658'>><<setred -3>><<setloyal -5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You smile at him faintly. "...Thanks. That's... that's nice of you."</div>' 'autogenerated_68659'>><<setred +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Swat his hand away. "You never cared before."</div>' 'autogenerated_68660'>><<setred -5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Remain neutral. "Whatever you say."</div>' 'autogenerated_68661'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"The best thing you can do for me is to forget this."</div>' 'autogenerated_68662'>><<setred -3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Red smiles at you, a tad sadly. "Of course." <<include 'panandneonarrive5'>>

Red smiles back. "Anytime." <<include 'panandneonarrive5'>>

Red frowns. "That isn't true." But seeing your expression, he seems to know not to start an argument. "…Never mind. You can believe what you want, if that helps." <<include 'panandneonarrive5'>>

Red smiles a little, uncertain. "Right." <<include 'panandneonarrive5'>>

For a moment, it seems as if Red might open his mouth and argue with you. But after a long moment, he closes his mouth and nods. "Fine. I'll respect that. Whatever you say." <<include 'panandneonarrive5'>>

You manage to smile at him. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Okay."</div>' 'autogenerated_68663'>><<setred +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Thank you."</div>' 'autogenerated_68664'>><<set $redromanceflag += 1>><<setred +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"If you say so."</div>' 'autogenerated_68665'>><<set $redromanceflag -= 5>><<setred -5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Fine, whatever." Whatever it takes to get him to stop talking.</div>' 'autogenerated_68666'>><<set $redromanceflag -= 5>><<setred -10>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Red smiles. "Good." <<include 'panandneonarrive'>>

Red smiles, his eyes warm. "Good." <<include 'panandneonarrive'>>

Red flinches, as if you'd slapped him. He looks away from your broken smile with a frown. <<include 'panandneonarrive'>>

<<page_break "Next" "panandneonarrive">>

<<set $redstatus to "You're reconnecting after a long time apart.">>Then, suddenly, Pan and Neon arrive, the latter scampering after the former as he waves a tall bottle of lemonade. "Ahoy, mateys," the Shifter calls cheerily. <<nobr>><<if $part gt 4>> "Shery said we could polish this off. Want to have a picnic, like the good old days?" <<else>> "Raven said we could polish this off. Want to have a picnic, like the good old days?" <</if>><</nobr>> <<nobr>><<if $redrelationship is "ex">> Then he stops and looks at the two of you shrewdly. "Wait a second. Are you two at it again?" <br><br> "No," Red says hastily, while Neon says with exasperation: "Please don't be so crass, Pan." <br><br> Pan looks at you again, a question in his eyes. Then he shrugs and says, "Well, whatever. Let's Shift this into some liquor and get day-drunk!" <</if>><</nobr>> You spend the rest of your time together laughing under the old apple tree, suspended in a kind of timeless reverie, reliving past days and planning the next. Together, you think, looking around at all of the smiling faces. How strange it is, how the passage of things go. How the flow of time can splinter you, hurl you into different directions—and then, just as simply, how it can bring you back together once more. <<include "redover">>

<<nobr>> <<setred +5>><<set $redstatus to "You've gotten a glimpse into his research.">><</nobr>> You find Red deep in the belly of the Shepherds' tower, locked away in one of the arcane research labs that he's commandeered for himself ("privileges of being Archmage," he said). When you open the door and peek in, he hardly takes any notice of you, his hand on his chin as he stands over a workbench, muttering to himself. Dozens of textbooks and ancient schematics litter the workbench's surface, while in the corner of the dark, windowless room, a huge, hulking device you only dimly recognize as the World Ark sits inert. Only a few flickering braziers light the gloom; if this were your office, you'd have absolutely no idea of what time it is or how long you'd been working. Red's ancient pet owl, Archimetius, opens its eyes and glares down at you from its high perch as you glide up behind the tall, lanky Mage, who's still oblivious to your presence in the room. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Scare him. "Boo!"</div>' 'scare_red'>><<setred +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Tap him on the shoulder. "You all right there?"</div>' 'tap_red'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Clear your throat. "Um. Hello?"</div>' 'clear_throat_red'>><</link>> <<if $redromanceflag >= 10>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Pinch his side lightly. "You're so cute when you're being a mad scientist."</div>' 'pinch_red'>><<setred +1>><<set $redromanceflag += 1>><</link>><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

Red's head almost hits the ceiling, that's how far he practically levitates out of alarm. "<i><<c firstname>>!</i> Gods preserve us, you about scared the living guts out of me!" You smile at him slyly. "You should be more on your guard, you know: I waltzed right in without you even noticing. What would you have done if I were an Endarkened?" He puts a hand on his (no doubt palpitating) heart and heaves a long-suffering sigh. "I would hope that the Shepherd headquarters would be the last place I'd encounter a demon," he mutters, "but noted, I suppose." You peer around him at his worktable. "What are you working on?" <<include "red_stomach_growl">>

Red's head almost hits the ceiling, that's how far he practically levitates out of alarm. "<i><<c firstname>>!</i> Gods preserve us, you about scared the living guts out of me!" "But I didn't do anything." He sputters. "Still—" You peer around him at his worktable and add, "What are you working on?" <<include "red_stomach_growl">>

Red's head almost hits the ceiling, that's how far he practically levitates out of alarm. "<i><<c firstname>>!</i> Gods preserve us, you about scared the living guts out of me!" "All I did was say hello," you point out innocently. Then you peer around him at his worktable and add, "What are you working on?" <<include "red_stomach_growl">>

Red makes a strange sound, something between a muffled scream and a yelp, and practically jumps out of his skin, whipping his head around to look at you with wide, startled eyes. "<i><<c firstname>></i>! You about scared the living <i>guts</i> out of me, why—" Then he catches himself and blinks. This close, you can catch the warm, comforting scent of him: ink and juniper and something clean and masculine. "Wait, <i>what</i> did you just say?" You smirk at him. "Guess you should have been paying more attention, no?" Peering around him at his worktable, you add, "What are you working on?" <<include "red_stomach_growl">>

Red opens his mouth to give you what looks to be an enthusiastic response—before he's interrupted by a high, unseemly squeal coming from the direction of his stomach. You stare at each other in silence for a moment before he breaks out in a sheepish grin. "First, what time is it?" "A little after lunch—why?" He grinds the heels of his palms into his eyes. "I think I missed breakfast," he remarks mildly. "…And dinner. Do you mind if we talk and eat?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Smile. "Of course. Can't have you fainting."</div>' 'red_cafe_intro'>><<setred +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Sigh. "Fine."</div>' 'red_cafe_intro'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Scold him. "Liefred, you can't just keep skipping meals like this!"</div>' 'red_scold_meal'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

The tall Mage's eyebrows climb up into his hairline. <<nobr>><<if $education is "Circle-trained">> "'<i>Liefred</i>?' You haven't called me that in a long time." He holds his hands up placatingly at your snakelike glare. "All right, all right, I know full name means you mean business. I promise I don't do it on purpose! 'Skipping' implies I'm deliberately making a choice. I just… <i>forget</i>." <<else>> "'Skipping' implies I'm deliberately making a choice to not eat. I just lose track of time down here and <i>forget</i>." <</if>><</nobr>> You shake your head and sigh. <<include "red_cafe_intro">>

"The refectory has probably stopped serving lunch," you say. "We'll have to scavenge elsewhere to find you sustenance." Red puts his hands on the small of his back and cracks his spine with a groan. "Thankfully, I know just the place." <<page_break "Next" "red_cafe">>

Red takes you to a bustling café in the Market Quarter that seems primarily aimed towards busy university students and merchants on short meal breaks. It specializes in serving sandwiches, which Red whole-heartedly declares are the best in the city before he orders two for himself, plus tea and salad. Despite his obvious hunger, he still eats with the sedate, polite manners he's known for; a Trouble or an Ayla would have wolfed their meals down if they were in his state, but Red always seems to project a mild-mannered, unassuming air of <i>being raised better than that.</i> As for you, you order… <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">...a sliced steak and pepper-herb sandwich.</div>' 'red_research_talk'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">...a chicken meatball sandwich, drizzled in a sweet and tangy sauce.</div>' 'red_research_talk'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">...a bacon and ahuacatl sandwich.</div>' 'red_research_talk'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">...an herbed egg and watercress sandwich.</div>' 'red_research_talk'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">...a sliced cucumber and cream cheese sandwich.</div>' 'red_research_talk'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">...a grilled cheese sandwich.</div>' 'red_research_talk'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">...a whipped cream and berry sandwich.</div>' 'red_research_talk'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">...just a drink, because you've already eaten.</div>' 'red_research_talk'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Red's vitality obviously improves as you enjoy your meal together, and eventually he clears his throat and says, "You asked earlier what I was working on…" You nod. "Yes, what's got you locked away in the basement, away from everyone?" He chuckles ruefully. "Well, you remember back in Solhadur, when I mentioned I've been researching the <i>Synestra</i>—the secret order of Mages known more commonly as the Worldwalkers—for the past few years? With the resources of the Shepherds and the new Mages who are showing up to join every day, plus what Solhadur already had, I thought to get back at it. Unfortunately, the task hasn't gotten any easier since Quiial interrupted it back in Capra." He shakes his head. "The World Ark was the closest I've ever come to unearthing the Synestra's secrets, but my next chance to use it won't come for another ten years at least, since that's how long it takes to recharge. That's <i>if</i> our adventures to the Phantom Shore didn't destabilize it completely. It's very old, you see, and I half get the sense that it was something more like an early experiment or a prototype than what the Worldwalkers truly used. It just doesn't seem probable that an entire order would have relied on such an unreliable device." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm glad you waited to call it 'unreliable' and 'unstable' and 'a prototype' until <i>after</i> we used it..."</div>' 'red_prototype_response'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Isn't there anything you can do to accelerate the recharging process?"</div>' 'red_recharge_response'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>> <<if $specialization is "binder" or $arcane >= 50>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Do you want me to take a look at it?"</div>' 'red_look_response'>><<setred +1>><</link>><</if>> <<if $specialization is not "binder" and $arcane < 50>><div class="inactive-item">"Do you want me to take a look at it?"</div><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

He grins. "Well, all's well that ends well, right? And it was worth ridding Capra of Quiial, even if it does end up being the last time anyone uses it." <<include "red_evidence_inquiry">>

He shakes his head. "I think I'd risk damaging it further, at this point. And if the Worldwalkers landed on some other way of traveling between worlds, I'd prefer to focus on finding that rather than pouring all my energy into a method that might not have been what they actually used." <<include "red_evidence_inquiry">>

Red smiles. "By all means, your insight would be very welcome. But if the Worldwalkers landed on some other way of traveling between worlds, I'd prefer to focus on finding that rather than pouring all my energy into a method that might not have been what they actually used." <<include "red_evidence_inquiry">>

"Have you found any evidence of what the Worldwalkers used instead?" He shakes his head slowly. "To be honest, most of what I've found about them has only been implications, veiled references in barely-related texts. I've never actually found definitive proof of the Worldwalkers or their own written records myself. The World Ark was the closest I've come, and even that isn't actually associated with them by anything other than my own instincts. The ruins that I found it in held nothing else, so if I tried to defend my claims in front of an academic committee, I'd be laughed out of the room." He rakes a hand tiredly through his vivid red hair. "They were insanely secretive, almost maddeningly so. I suppose it makes sense—if you were a sect who'd uncovered the secrets to unlocking an infinite multitude of other worlds, of <i>course</i> you'd do everything you could to keep it a secret. If that knowledge ever got out into the greater world…" He trails off for a moment, as if dragged by a thought he'd rather not follow, before shaking his head again. "Their very existence is only ever vaguely implied by powerful Archmages or scholars who would theorize about their hypothetical interference; the Worldwalkers took enormous steps to conceal even the very idea that they could be real, to the point where even the few people who have heard of them now think they're a kind of conspiracy theory. The idea is that they were merely an easy scapegoat for past academics who considered themselves too educated to blame things they couldn't explain on the gods. Instead, if there was some new technological advancement or some import they couldn't track the history of, it could have been easier to attribute it to this theoretical group of Mages who were 'probably' meddling around with things they shouldn't. Thus, most people believe the Worldwalkers never actually existed at all, but were merely a collective figment, a convenient explanation for the more ignorant academics of antiquity." <<include "thesynestra">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("red_how_real")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"How do you know they were actually real, then? How do you know you're not just chasing a myth, a bygone rumor?"</div>' 'red_how_real'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("red_why_interested")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Why are you so interested in this?"</div>' 'red_why_interested'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("red_how_long")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"How long have you been chasing leads about this?"</div>' 'red_how_long'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("red_school_talk") and $education is "Circle-trained">><<link '<div class="question-item">"I never remember you talking about this in school."</div>' 'red_school_talk'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You want to know more. "Give me a breakdown of exactly what you've pieced together so far."</div>' 'red_breakdown'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Red's eyes spark with a determined light, even as he casually leans forward on his elbows and idly toys with the teaspoon in his cup of cream tea. "Well, for one thing, we know there are other worlds," he asserts. "Hael and the Spirit Realm. That is unmistakable fact. From there, it's not such a stretch to claim there are thousands—millions—<i>countless</i> other worlds, no?" "Perhaps," you point out, "but that doesn't necessarily mean that the Worldwalkers existed: just the possibility that other worlds do." The other Mage nods. "That's true. But then there <i>are</i> things that we didn't always have in our own history that just suddenly seemed to show up, and no one can really adequately explain where they came from. Potatoes, and khav, and horses… I know some of those were hundreds or thousands of years ago, and we can chalk up their lack of a discernible origin to poor record-keeping and the vagaries of time, but pair all of that with the fact that some texts do mention the Synestra, and I don't think all of them could just be making it up out of nowhere…" Hmm. It still doesn't quite refute the claim that the Worldwalkers could just be an invented story that snowballed, an urban legend or a conspiracy theory that persisted through the ages. "Be honest," you say. "You're so sure they're real because you <i>want</i> them to be real, right?" There's a long pause at that, heavier than you might have expected. Then Red cracks a smile and says, "I suppose you could say that. But I also just… have one of those gut feelings. The kind that tells you when you're on to something—like when you're solving a case and you just <i>know</i> you're on the right trail. Do you know what I'm talking about?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Yes, you get that feeling all the time. You have to respect that.</div>' 'autogenerated_68667'>><<setred +1>><<setcunning +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Maybe. Most of the time you just feel like you're flying blind.</div>' 'autogenerated_68668'>><<setcourage +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">No. You only ever act based on what's the most reasonable and logical course of action. Gut feelings don't factor into it.</div>' 'autogenerated_68669'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Red gives you a brilliant smile. "I knew you would know what I mean." <<include 'thesynestra'>>

Red laughs. "Well, you do an admirable job of hiding that," he teases. "But hopefully you still understand what I mean." <<include 'thesynestra'>>

Red nods slowly. "I see. Well, hopefully you can understand what I mean in theory, if not from personal experience." <<include 'thesynestra'>>

Red cocks his head at you, as if genuinely puzzled by the question. "Who wouldn't be?" he asks with sincere surprise. "It's the possibility of traveling to other <i>worlds</i>. Think of what you could experience, or the kind of knowledge you could bring back! Information that could change the world—and more than that, help people. Imagine visiting a world that resembles our future a thousand years from now. What if they'd figured out a way to fly, or to cure our worst diseases? What if you could bring back a piece of technology that would help us avert war, or prevent famine? What if you could bring back new types of food or animals, or even <i>magic itself</i>? The secrets that other worlds and dimensions might hold would be unfathomable. It's already difficult enough just imagining what Hael or the Spirit Realm would be like, let alone a world a thousand degrees removed from us! The kind of alien landscapes or the people of those worlds—it'd be enough knowledge to fill a million lifetimes, it'd—" Suddenly he seems to realize how excitable he sounds and abruptly dials it back. "Sorry," he says sheepishly. "As you can see, it's… a passion project for me, to be sure." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Uh, yeah... I... can see that."</div>' 'autogenerated_68670'>><<setred -3>><<set $redromanceflag -= 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I mean, it's understandable. This could change the very world as we know it!"</div>' 'autogenerated_68671'>><<setred +3>><<set $redromanceflag += 1>><<set $redharden -= 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"It makes me happy to see you so fired up."</div>' 'autogenerated_68672'>><<setred +2>><<set $redromanceflag += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Honestly, it sounds more dangerous than exciting to me."</div>' 'autogenerated_68673'>><<set $redharden += 2>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Red coughs in a chagrined way. "Sorry. I know I can rattle on. Whenever I try to talk about this to Pan or Neon, I get the sense they're just politely waiting me out. At this point, I think they're sick to death of the topic." <<include 'thesynestra'>>

He smiles, his eyes bright. "Exactly. I knew you would see it my way." <<include 'thesynestra'>>

He smiles. <<nobr>><<if $redromanceflag >= 10>> "I could say the same of you. When <i>you're</i> onto something good, you get this look in your eyes that's just…" <br><br> Then he clears his throat and casually takes a sip of his tea. "Anyway. Where were we?" <<else>> "Thanks for indulging me, $halfname2. Whenever I try to talk about this to Pan or Neon, I get the sense they're just politely waiting me out. At this point, I think they're sick to death of the topic." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'thesynestra'>>

Red frowns at that. "You think so?" You nod. "The kinds of things you're talking about… I'm not so sure they should be meddled with like that. Sure, you could alter our world's history by contaminating it with another's… but <i>should</i> you? That is a lot of power for a single mortal to wield, and it could result in absolutely disastrous consequences." Red falls into a pensive silence at that, and though he seems deflated by your remark, at least he seems to be giving it due consideration. "I see your point," he says slowly. "Yes, of course, one would have to be incredibly careful. The Synestra were, to hide evidence of themselves like this." Then he shakes his head. "All the more reason to uncover more about them, to see what kinds of protocols and safeguards they had in place." <<include 'thesynestra'>>

Red frowns, thinking on it. "Years, on-and-off," he admits. "Ever since I graduated from the Circle. I intended for it to be something of a post-graduate project, but then Archmage Tevanti passed, and, ah—well, you know the whole story from there. But whenever I got a chance to take a break from my administrative duties, I'd take off hunting down my latest leads. Which, admittedly, were scarce and typically resulted in dead ends, but sometimes they'd still keep me on the road for months." <<include "thesynestra">>

Red drums his long fingers against the tabletop. "I first read about the Synestra in some random tome I picked up from the library," he admits. "But back then, I thought nothing of it: it was one allusion in a sea of allusions, and I was looking for something else at the time. It took a lot of time for that particular seed to germinate and grow, and by the time I figured I might want to go looking for more evidence of it outside of the Circle, you had just left. And even then, it was more curiosity than it was a real resolution to make anything out of it. Sort of a, '<i>Well, I don't really know what I want to do now, so I'll just pick that as a research topic and walk in the direction that it takes me</i>.' It wasn't until my first real attempt ended in failure that I became more… invested. Now it's something of a hobby… or an addiction, if you ask Pan." <<include "thesynestra">>

"It's really not that much," the red-haired Mage admits. "The first suggestion of the Synestra crops up as early as the Waking Era, 402 Third Age or so. But they would have been operating for some time before being talked about in books, so I'd guess they began working on their arts as early as the 300s. From there, one can <i>theorize</i> that they formed their order, set down a code of laws and rules, and then intermittently traveled to other worlds, occasionally bringing things back from those worlds and subtly integrating them into Blest. There have been a few scattered references to '<i>traveling the dark paths</i>' in order to worldwalk, which sounds sinister, but I don't think it's an omen about their evil nature or bargaining with a demon or anything; I think it's an allusion to the actual methods they used to slip between the world-walls. If it's anything like Traveling, I could see translocating to a different world something like following a path with many different forks and branches, perhaps going along blindly by feel rather than a visualization…" Then he makes an impatient chopping motion, as if to physically cut himself off. "But that's all theory, and you're asking for facts. Beyond that, I really haven't uncovered much. I haven't managed to get ahold of any specific names or locations, and obviously if they were capable of traveling to different worlds, they also could have easily translocated themselves all over the Continent, making their home base impossible to trace." He shakes his head despairingly. "The last mentions of the Synestra taper off around… eight hundred years ago or so? And in <i>those</i> references, it seems to be believed that they're definitely gone for good. Whether some catastrophe fell upon them, or they were forcefully disbanded, I'm not sure, but whoever was aware of them seemed sure they wouldn't be continuing their work. And… that's all I've got. So far." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Whistle. "That isn't much, chief."</div>' 'red_not_much'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"What if they died off? Their number couldn't have been large."</div>' 'red_died_off'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"What if they translocated to another world and weren't able to come back?"</div>' 'red_translocation'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Rather than disaster forcing them to discontinue their work, what if they voluntarily decided to stop?"</div>' 'red_voluntary_stop'>><<set $redharden += 1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

He grimaces. "I know. It's like standing at the base of a mountain and not even being able to see its peak. But every mountain in the world has to be climbed someday by someone, right?" <<include "red_wrap_up">>

Red nods. "I considered that, too. The optimal number before things begin to get political—or corruptible—is quite small, especially with such dangerous knowledge and high stakes. It would only take one bad winter, an unforeseen sickness or a wagon accident, for an entire order to be wiped out if it was small enough. But you would think that even if they'd all died, some records of their knowledge would still be hidden away somewhere." <<include "red_wrap_up">>

Red nods slowly. "I considered that. But I would think it would be unusual for all of them to go on the same expedition—logic says you should at least always leave a few people behind in case of emergencies—but I don't know their methodology or practices enough to say for sure. Perhaps the very act of worldwalking required all of their number. I don't know." <<include "red_wrap_up">>

Red's brow furrows, as if he never considered this possibility before. "Why would they do that?" You shrug. "I couldn't say. Maybe something objectionable happened that convinced them they couldn't continue on with their work, maybe people became disillusioned as time went on, maybe they were simply taxed and wanted to retire. But it's a possibility that you didn't name." The tall Mage makes a humming sound. "Hmm. I suppose you could be right. Still, I find it hard to believe that someone with that kind of power and knowledge would simply… stop using it. And even if they did, I would have to believe they still left some record of their methods behind somewhere, if only for the day when those secrets would be needed." <<include "red_wrap_up">>

Finally, he draws a breath and smiles at you. "And there you have it: my secret obsession. Thanks for letting me talk your ear off about it for a while." He dusts the sandwich crumbs off of his fingers and takes another tip of his tea. <<include "redtalk2">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("red_offer_help")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"Well, if you ever need or want any help, I'm available. I admit you've piqued my curiosity."</div>' 'red_offer_help'>><<setred +5>><<setintelligence +3>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("red_other_activities")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"Please tell me you've been finding other ways to spend your time <i>outside</i> of this obsession?"</div>' 'red_other_activities'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("red_other_shepherds")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"Have you been getting to know any of the other Shepherds?"</div>' 'red_other_shepherds'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("red_sweetheart")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"How are you ever going to find a sweetheart with your nose buried in old Worldwalker books?"</div>' 'red_sweetheart'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">He seems to be more interested in talking about you now.</div>' 'red_talk_about_you'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $redromanceflag >= 5>> <<set $redromanceflag += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> Red's eyes brighten in appreciation and gratitude. "I'd love to have your insight on this," he says eagerly. "…When I have something of actual value to discuss. Which won't be too far off in the future. I hope." <<include "redtalk2">>

<<nobr>><<if $education is "Circle-trained">> He always had a bad habit of getting so absorbed in his latest projects that he'd forgo sleeping, eating, and socializing, so preoccupied and interested in his intellectual pursuits that he'd experience tunnel vision that blocked out everything else. <<else>> If he's so absorbed in his research that he's forgetting to eat or sleep, it seems a legitimate question. <</if>><</nobr>> He cracks a boyish grin. "Don't worry, I've been staying on top of my duties so well that even Blade can't have cause to complain," he answers. "It hasn't gotten that bad. I still train and exercise every day, check in with the other Circle Mages and do my Archmage tasks (though they don't really need me anymore), read for pleasure, run other experiments with Neon on things around the tower, take walks and constitutionals when I remember to. I found this sandwich shop, didn't I? And I've been enjoying the theater more as an adult, I'm finding; there are a lot of street plays to be found around Haven, and concerts, too. And I've been thinking it'd be nice to take a horse out and explore the area outside of the city, out in the Sun's Embrace. Maybe find a nice lake or a picnic spot." <<nobr>><<if ($redromanceflag >= 10) or ($red >= 55)>> <<if ($redrelationship is "ex") or ($redrelationship is "friend")>> He sends you a winning smile. "You'd be welcome to come with me. It'd be just like old times." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $redrelationship is "ex">><<link '<div class="choice-item">Raise your eyebrows at him. "<i>Just</i> like old times? You remember what we would get up to when we would go on our picnics, don't you?"</div>' 'red_picnic_old_times'>><<setred +1>><<set $redromanceflag += 2>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Respond enthusiastically. "That sounds wonderful!"</div>' 'red_picnic_wonderful'>><<setred +1>><<set $redromanceflag += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Look away and blush. "M-maybe..."</div>' 'red_picnic_maybe'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Shrug. "Sure, why not?"</div>' 'red_picnic_shrug'>><<set $redromanceflag -= 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Snort. "If you think I have the time for that, think again."</div>' 'red_picnic_snort'>><<set $redromanceflag -= 5>><<setred -3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <<else>> He sends you a winning smile. "You'd be welcome to come with me, you know." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Respond enthusiastically. "That sounds wonderful!"</div>' 'red_picnic_wonderful'>><<setred +1>><<set $redromanceflag += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Look away and blush. "M-maybe..."</div>' 'red_picnic_maybe'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Shrug. "Sure, why not?"</div>' 'red_picnic_shrug'>><<set $redromanceflag -= 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Snort. "If you think I have the time for that, think again."</div>' 'red_picnic_snort'>><<set $redromanceflag -= 5>><<setred -3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <</if>> <<else>> <<include "redtalk2">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Red looks a bit too innocent as he replies, "I mean, I wasn't referring to <i>that</i> part of it, but it's interesting that your mind went there so quickly…" Somehow you get the feeling that you've fallen neatly into his trap. "Red Antiqua, you knew <i>exactly</i> what you were doing." "Did I? I'd be interested to hear if you can prove it." After a few moments of light-hearted bickering, the conversation turns to other things. <<include "redtalk2">>

His tan, handsome face reveals a bright smile. "Brilliant. I'll pack a lunch and come find you on our next free day." <<include "redtalk2">>

Red makes an easy gesture, one of placating dismissal. "No pressure: I know you're a busy person. Just if you ever feel the need to get away from work for a while." <<include "redtalk2">>

"Perfect." Red's tone is light and easy, though his smile doesn't seem to reach his eyes. "Maybe I'll come find you on our next free day, then." <<include "redtalk2">>

Red inclines his head. "Fair enough. Just thought I'd offer." <<include "redtalk2">>

Red nods. "I'd say we're all good friends by now. With… one or two exceptions. But I don't think it's a personal thing, I think some people are just more… prickly than others?" His wry expression says it all. "Riel and I have a nightly chess game going: he might be the only person who's ever truly stumped me, and it can get pretty intense between us. We try to do at least a few moves every evening, and even when I'm on the road, I find myself trying to plot out the next strategem he's going to pull when I get back. And Chase seems to have taken a liking to me—he reminds me of Pan, in some ways. Ayla is sort of hard to tell—I <i>think</i> she likes me, but she also acts like she doesn't, but I think that's her way of showing that she does?" <<nobr>><<if $brionyjoin is true>> He laughs. "And I've taken to giving Briony some lessons here and there, in magic and history and things, to catch her up—that, at least, is where my tutoring skills can come in handy. <<if $halekjoin is true>> And I enjoy spending time with Halek. He has a nice, calming presence." <<else>> And I enjoy talking to Tallys. The things she knows—the history she's seen—it's totally fascinating to hear her first-hand accounts!" <</if>> <</if>><</nobr>> <<nobr>><<if $education is "Circle-trained">> "So you're just as popular as ever," you note dryly. <<else>> "You seem pretty popular," you note. <</if>><</nobr>> Between the Shepherds and the Circle Mages, it seems like Red's universally-liked. He mock-grimaces. "I won't deny it, but I will say that even popularity can be a hassle occasionally. I always seem to be getting dragged into things against my will, <i>especially</i> when it involves drinking. And d'you know, sometimes I'll just be sitting and having a meal to myself when someone will sit down across from me and suddenly start pouring their heart out over very personal details—<i>without</i> any prompting from my end. I always seem to find myself at the heart of the latest drama or gossip without ever voluntarily seeking it out." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You're a good listener and a shoulder to cry on. People are drawn to that, whether you intend it or not."</div>' 'red_good_listener'>><<setred +1>><<set $redromanceflag += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I guess you just have one of those faces."</div>' 'red_those_faces'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I get it. People are always doing the same thing to me. Sometimes I feel like I'm just existing, and suddenly I'm roped into solving others' problems!"</div>' 'red_same_problems'>><<setloyal +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Oh, boo-hoo, people like to talk to you. Must be really horrible to be trusted and liked."</div>' 'red_boo_hoo'>><<setred -5>><<setcharisma -5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Ugh, that sounds annoying."</div>' 'red_sounds_annoying'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"It's probably good for you, you know. If people didn't forcefully involve you in their lives, I think you'd spend all your time wrapped up in your own thoughts!"</div>' 'red_good_for_you'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Red grins. "I suppose I shouldn't be complaining," he says magnanimously. "It's more puzzlement more than anything. But I appreciate the kind word, $halfname2." <<include "redtalk2">>

"That's what my sister says," Red mutters. "I don't even know what that <i>means</i>." <<include "redtalk2">>

Red chuckles. "I could definitely see that. <<nobr>><<if $education is "Circle-trained">> If I recall correctly, people were always doing that to you at the Circle, too. <</if>><</nobr>> Well, if you ever need a break and just want to be left in peace, I promise I'll never infringe on your time like that. Not unless you <i>want</i> me to." <<include "redtalk2">>

Red smiles, though it's more of a wince. "Point taken," he says politely. "Though I wasn't so much as complaining as expressing puzzlement, I suppose." <<include "redtalk2">>

He laughs. "Not so much annoying as puzzling," he admits. "I don't dislike it, I'm just not sure why it happens. But you take my point." <<include "redtalk2">>

He sighs. "In my heart, I know you're right," he admits. "But my pride won't quite allow me to cede it willingly." <<include "redtalk2">>

<<nobr>><<if $redromanceflag >= 10>> Red's gaze sharpens, though it's with interest rather than annoyance. "Since when do <i>you</i> care if I have a sweetheart or not?" he inquires mildly, sipping his tea with nonchalance—though the gold rim of it can't quite conceal his sly grin. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I mean, you <i>do</i> have the reputation of being a playboy. I figured it was integral to your general happiness and wellbeing."</div>' 'red_playboy_response'>><<setred +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"It's just friendly concern, nothing more..."</div>' 'red_friendly_concern'>><<set $redromanceflag -= 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I just don't want you to die alone amidst your books, that's all."</div>' 'red_die_alone'>><<set $redromanceflag -= 5>><<setred -1>><</link>> <<if $redrelationship is "ex">><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I consider it my duty as your ex-sweetheart to pass the torch to someone worthy."</div>' 'red_pass_torch'>><<set $redromanceflag -= 10>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Dodge the question. "I mean, has anyone even caught your eye?"</div>' 'red_caught_eye'>><<set $redromanceflag += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Meet his eye steadily. "I'll admit it's a matter of personal interest for me."</div>' 'red_personal_interest'>><<setred +3>><<set $redromanceflag += 3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <<else>> Red groans. "You sound just like my sisters. Rest assured, while it's not at the forefront of my concerns right now, I'm perfectly capable of finding someone even with my nose buried in old books…" <br><br> "Oh-ho, that's a mighty arrogant statement coming from someone who forgot to eat lunch and dinner!" <br><br> "I should never have told you that. In fact, I'm beginning to think I should never tell you anything." <br><br> <<include "redinterruption2">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Red groans. "Gods above, you've been talking to Pan again, haven't you? I keep telling everybody that I'm not—I'm not a rake or anything, I courted people <i>a normal amount</i>—" <<include "redinterruption2">>

Red makes a sonorous sound. "I see. Well, rest assured, it's not at the forefront of my concerns right now, but that doesn't mean I'm not perfectly capable of finding someone even with my nose buried in old books…" "Oh-ho, that's a mighty arrogant statement coming from someone who forgot to eat lunch and dinner!" "I should never have told you that. In fact, I'm beginning to think I should never tell you anything." <<include "redtalk2">>

Red groans. "You sound like my sisters. Rest assured, while it's not at the forefront of my concerns right now, I'm perfectly capable of finding someone even with my nose buried in old books…" "Oh-ho, that's a mighty arrogant statement coming from someone who forgot to eat lunch and dinner!" "I should never have told you that. In fact, I'm beginning to think I should never tell you anything." <<include "redtalk2">>

You might just be imagining it, but you think Red's expression falls. He hangs his head for a brief moment before groaning, "<<c firstname>>…" "Yes?" "You have no idea how <i>weird</i> that is." "What?" <<include "redinterruption2">>

Red's eyebrows raise, though a slow grin begins to spread across his face. "Why do you ask?" "You're dodging the question." "So are <i>you</i>." <<include "redinterruption2">>

Red's eyebrows raise. "Because you're scoping out if you have competition, or…?" "You are very arrogant." "Not <i>arrogant</i>, just… inquiring." <<include "redinterruption2">>

As easily as anything, Red turns the conversation towards you, taking another sip of his tea as he says, "But enough about me—how have you been? How does it feel to be the oh-so-popular <i>Hero of Haven</i>? It seems like it's every other day that I'm reading about you in the paper or hearing that a trading card's been made based on you." <<include "talktogetherred2">>

You talk comfortably for a long time about all manner of things, the chatter and bustle of the café making you feel even more leisurely rather than rushed and frenetic. <<nobr>><<if $redromanceflag >= 10>> <br><br> <<include "redinterruption2">> <<else>> It's with some reluctance that Red finally checks his time piece and heaves a sigh. "I wish we could talk all day, but I should probably head back to headquarters." <br><br> You arch a brow even as you rise and allow the server to clear the table. "Eager to get back to your research?" <br><br> Red laughs ruefully. "No, I promised Pan we would spar together. Honestly, $halfname2, you don't have to worry. As interested as I am in the Worldwalkers, I'm not going to let them take over my life." <br><br> For some reason, you feel a slight thrill of apprehension running along your nerves at those words, but watching Red's easy, broad-shouldered gait and amiable disposition puts you more at ease. You can only hope that it's true. <br><br> <<include "redover">> <</if>><</nobr>>

However, before you can say anymore, you suddenly realize that you have company. You look up to find two young women—probably university students or a little older—standing over your tiny, cramped table and eyeing you with interest. One is auburn-haired and sloe-eyed, and seems more forthright than her companion, standing with her hands planted confidently on her angular hips; her small, short-haired friend with puffy brown curls and blue eyes seems significantly shyer, hanging back just out of speaking range and rubbing her arm nervously, as if she can't decide whether to commit to being a part of the conversation or not. The auburn-haired young woman says boldly, "Hello. Sorry to interrupt your conversation, but we were wondering—are you two together?" Red inhales sharply and almost spits out his drink. <<include "aubairn">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("red_why_ask")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"Why do you ask?"</div>' 'red_why_ask'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Yes, we are."</div>' 'red_say_yes'>><<set $redromanceflag += 3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"No, we're not."</div>' 'red_say_no'>><<set $redromanceflag -= 5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Let Red respond.</div>' 'red_let_respond'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

The young woman's eyes dart back and forth between the two of you, while her friend flinches. "Curiosity, I suppose. <i>I</i> think you're the most attractive man I've ever seen"—this she directs to Red—"and my friend Shalyn here is totally <i>dazzled</i> by you. She thinks you're <i>gorgeous</i>." The second part is addressed to you, though Shalyn looks simultaneously mortified and as if she studiously isn't listening to the conversation. "But you look like you're together, so I figured I'd ask before we got our hopes up." <<include "aubairn">>

Red glances at you, clearly surprised by your response, though he doesn't object to the lie. The auburn-haired woman nods briskly and says, "Figures. Well, the two of you are a beautiful couple. Have a nice lunch." "Thank you," you both chorus, watching as she tows her mortified friend away. Then Red turns slowly to look at you, his eyes wide and startled, and it's that owlish expression that causes you to break your composure and begin laughing. "What?" he asks, mock-aggrieved. "That caught me off-guard! Especially your response…" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Look down at your empty plate. "Should I have told them the truth?"</div>' 'red_truth_response'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Shrug. "It was just a white lie. I didn't feel like talking to them."</div>' 'red_white_lie'>><<set $redromanceflag -= 1>><<setred -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Blush. "I just blurted it out on impulse..."</div>' 'red_blurt_impulse'>><<set $redromanceflag += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Smile. "I wanted you all to myself for the moment."</div>' 'red_want_self'>><<set $redromanceflag += 1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Red smiles reassuringly at you. "By all means, I didn't mind. I just hope it's not an excuse you use to guard your time with other people, too, or you're going to have a swirl of messy rumors surrounding you soon enough…" <<include "laughtogetherred2">>

Red smiles. "I suppose that's understandable enough. I don't exactly mind, but I'd hope it's not an excuse you use to guard your time with other people, too, or you're going to have a swirl of rumors surrounding you soon enough…" <<include "laughtogetherred2">>

Red smiles. "It did feel natural in the moment, didn't it?" he murmurs. "I found myself almost doing the same thing as you." He shakes his head. "Though I hope you don't go blurting it out when you're with other people, too, or you're going to have a swirl of messy rumors surrounding you soon enough…" <<include "laughtogetherred2">>

Red smiles back. "I suppose that's understandable. Though I'd hope it's not an excuse you use to guard your time with other people, too, or you're going to have a swirl of rumors surrounding you soon enough…" <<include "laughtogetherred2">>

Red shoots you a startled look as the young woman says eagerly, "Then—could we give you our details? If you call on us, we could get to know each other better…" "Ah, I apologize, but I'll have to regretfully bow out; I'm currently married to my work," Red says, so smoothly and good-naturedly that it's impossible to hold a grudge against him. "But I'm extremely flattered; you made my day." The two young women turn expectant eyes towards you. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Um... same."</div>' 'auburnrancor'>><</link>> <<if $attractedto is not "men">><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Sure, why not?"</div>' 'red_accept_details'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>><</if>> <<if $attractedto is "men">><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Sorry, ladies, but my interests lie in men."</div>' 'auburnrancor'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm sorry, but I'm not interested."</div>' 'auburnrancor'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"No. Go away."</div>' 'red_rude_dismissal'>><<setcompassionate -3>><<setcharisma -3>><<setloyal -3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

The shy young woman's name is Shalyn: she (or rather her bolder friend) informs you that you can find her at a dormitory near Haven's university. She practically flees before you can get another word in edgewise, so with a roll of her eyes and a nod towards you, her friend also departs. Then Red turns slowly to look at you, his eyes wide and startled, and it's that owlish expression that causes you to break your composure and begin laughing. "What?" he asks, mock-aggrieved. "That caught me off-guard!" "Oh, come on, surely you're no stranger to flirtation," you say. "Yes, but not so suddenly! I can't believe that everyone thinks <i>I'm</i> the rake when you're right there…" <<include "laughtogetherred2">>

"Oh," the auburn-haired woman says, clearly disappointed, but without rancor. Then she shrugs and says, "Couldn't hurt to try. Well, thanks. Enjoy your lunch." And she turns and drags her mortified friend away. <<include "redaggrieved">>

Red looks at you meaningfully while the auburn-haired woman's shoulders jolt; she's clearly taken aback by your curt tone. "Sorry," she mutters. "Thought it couldn't hurt to try. Well. Have a nice day." And she turns and drags her mortified friend away. <<include "redaggrieved">>

Then Red turns slowly to look at you, his eyes wide and startled, and it's that owlish expression that causes you to break your composure and begin laughing. "What?" he asks, mock-aggrieved. "That caught me off-guard!" "Oh, come on, surely you're no stranger to flirtation," you say. "Yes, but not so suddenly! I keep telling everyone that I'm not a rake…" <<include "laughtogetherred2">>

<<nobr>><<if ($redrelationship is "ex") and ($redromanceflag >= 10)>> <<set $redromanceflag += 1>> "We, ah, we used to be," Red begins blankly, clearly thrown-off by this entire line of questioning. Then, flustered by his own response, he adds, "Er… I mean, we're together in the sense that we're here, together, in this moment… physically. No, not <i>physically</i>, just… <i>present</i> physically. In an existence sense. Together." <br><br> The two women stare at him wordlessly, as do you. Then the auburn-haired woman eyes the both of you again and says warily, "…Right. Well, I suppose that answers my question. Thanks." <br><br> And with that, she tows her appalled friend away. <<elseif $redromanceflag >= 10>> <<set $redromanceflag += 1>> "Er, well, I mean we are together," Red begins blankly, clearly thrown off by this entire line of questioning, "in the sense that we're here, together, in this moment… physically. No, not <i>physically</i>, just… <i>present</i> physically. In an existence sense. Together." <br><br> The two women stare at him wordlessly, as do you. Then the auburn-haired woman eyes the both of you again and says warily, "…Right. Well, I suppose that answers my question. Thanks." <br><br> And with that, she tows her appalled friend away. <<else>> "Not in a romantic sense, no," Red answers smoothly. "But we are enjoying our lunch together at the moment. I hope the two of you have a great meal here as well; this place is one of my favorites." <br><br> The auburn-haired woman, to her credit, takes the hint immediately. "Right. Thanks. Well… maybe we'll see you around, then." With another curious glance at you, she turns and tows her friend away, though you notice the friend keeps shooting hopeful glances back at you when she thinks you're not looking. <</if>><</nobr>> Red rotates his head slowly to look at you, his eyes both deadened and completely mortified. It's that look on his face that does it: you can't help but break out into helpless laughter. "Nicely done," you tease. <<nobr>><<if $redromanceflag >= 10>> "Why did you <i>say</i> it like that?" <br><br> "I don't <i>know</i>," Red answers with genuine, earnest despair. "I was just—surprised!" <<else>> <br><br> He begins to laugh, too. "What was I supposed to say? It was completely unexpected!" <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "laughtogetherred2">>

You continue to laugh together over the surprising encounter before talk turns to other things. You can't help but notice the easiness, warmth, and comfort of <<nobr>><<if $redromanceflag >= 10>> Red's company, and how at ease you feel in his presence… <br><br> But is that all the warmth in your chest is? <<else>> Red's company. It's no wonder everyone who meets him seems to like him: he's very easy to be with. <</if>><</nobr>> <<page_break "..." "red_ending2">>

It's with some reluctance that Red finally checks his time piece and heaves a sigh. "I wish we could talk all day, but I should probably head back to headquarters." You arch a brow even as you rise and allow the server to clear your table. "Eager to get back to your research?" Red laughs ruefully. "No, I promised Pan we would spar together. Honestly, $halfname2, you don't have to worry. As interested as I am in the Worldwalkers, I'm not going to let them take over my life." For some reason, you feel a slight thrill of apprehension running along your nerves at those words, but watching Red's easy, broad-shouldered gait and amiable disposition puts you more at ease. You can only hope that it's true. <<include "redover">>

<<setred +5>>After some searching, you descend into the belly of the Tower once more, following a hunch that you'll find Red holed up in the lab that he's commandeered as his personal workshop and office. It's where he spends most of his free time, after all, to the point where someone usually has to go down there and forcibly retrieve him for a meal in the refectory or bundle him off to his bedroom to snatch a few hours of sleep. Your instinct proves true, as you see the soft glow of Mage-lamps shining through the frosted porthole set into the door. When you ease it open, however, you don't find Red bent over his workbench, tinkering with his latest experiment or muttering to himself while riffling through three spellbooks at once. Instead, you see him wearing a rare frown of worry on his face as he stares up at the artificial tree he's installed for his owl, Archimetius. Red hardly glances at you as you sidle up alongside him, <<nobr>><<if $red >= 70 or $redromanceflag >= 10>> though he still grants you a small smile of acknowledgment before he turns his gaze back up to the branches of the tree. <<else>> too preoccupied with staring up at the branches of the tree. <</if>><</nobr>> A few feet above your heads, partially concealed by the dappled shadows of the tree's branches, Archimetius—looking even more bedraggled and ragged than ever—lies limply within the bowl of one of his perches, panting through an open beak. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Oh, no! Is Archimetius sick?"</div>' 'redinterlude3_sick'>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setred +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Whoa, what's wrong with your bird?"</div>' 'redinterlude3_sick'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Ew, that thing looks diseased."</div>' 'redinterlude3_sick'>><<setred -5>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setcharisma -5>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"I don't know what's wrong with him," Red admits in a doubtful murmur. When he stands on his tiptoes and stretches out his arm to try and touch the bird, Archmetius gives an angry screech and snaps at his hand in warning before collapsing back into his nest, shivering fitfully. "I know he's positively ancient—far older than a natural owl should be, <<nobr>><<if $education is "Circle-trained">> anyway." You know this to be true: Archimetius originally belonged to Archmage Tevanti, and even your oldest instructors mentioned the Archmage owning the owl when <i>they</i> were students, meaning Archimetius has to be well over a hundred years old. <<else>> anyway. He belonged to Archmage Tevanti—I only inherited him when the old man passed away—and my oldest instructors said Archimetius was around when <i>they</i> were students, meaning he has to be well over a hundred years old." He shakes his head. <</if>><</nobr>> "He seemed a little subdued the last few days, but he only just started doing <i>this</i>. It could be his age finally getting to him, but…" He trails off with a concerned frown. <<include "archimetiustalk">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("archi1")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"Archmage Tevanti never left you special instructions regarding Archimetius or his care?"</div>' 'archi1'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("archi2")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"Wait, so you know you've had an unnatural owl hanging around in your workshop all this time, and you never bothered to investigate its true nature?"</div>' 'archi2'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("archi3")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"I never thought it was quite fair that you got saddled with taking care of the Archmage's ancient owl, on top of everything else you had to deal with."</div>' 'archi3'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("archi4")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"It's always a bit sad when we're confronted with sickness and death, isn't it?"</div>' 'archi4'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Focus on helping Archimetius.</div>' 'helparchi'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Red shakes his head slowly. "If he did, it all got lost in the shuffle. But his decline came quite rapidly, you know. I can't imagine he'd have had the time to note anything about Archimetius that wasn't already obvious—he used the last of his strength leaving instructions about, you know, being Archmage and how to run the school or how to keep the accounts and wards running, that kind of thing. He may have not been able to get to Archie." <<include "archimetiustalk">>

Archimetius clearly has some sort of augmented or magical qualities, if he's lived this long past his natural lifespan. It seems unlike Red to not be curious about that. The tall, red-haired Mage gives you a rueful grimace, seemingly reading your thoughts. "Would it sound terribly stupid of me if I said that there were always more urgent things to worry about?" "Like the Worldwalkers and your own personal projects?" you return in a deadpan voice. "…Yes?" <<include "archimetiustalk">>

Plus, the owl has always been exceptionally hostile and cantankerous, so it's not even as if being his owner has been a particularly pleasant experience for Red. He glances at you with a rueful quirk of his lips. "I haven't minded it," he answers mildly. "It's not as if it's taken much to make sure he's fed, and I like having him around, even with his bad temper. I grew up with cats in the house all the time, so having an animal around is nice—especially when I need some reminder that there's something counting on me to not work myself to death." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"What, don't I count?" <b>[FLIRT]</b></div>' 'archi3_flirt'>><<set $redromanceflag += 1>><<setred +1>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I understand that." You're an animal lover yourself, after all. </div>' 'archi3_understand'>><<setred +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Meh, if you say so." You're indifferent to animals, for the most part.</div>' 'archi3_meh'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Still seems like a whole lot of thankless trouble." You actively dislike animals, and only tolerate working with them when you have to.</div>' 'archi3_trouble'>><<setred -3>><<setcompassionate -3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Red lets out a surprised laugh. "Well, of course you do," he teases, "though I don't think you need me to <i>survive</i>, not the way poor Archimetius does." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"That's true, at least. I am marginally more independent than an ancient, decrepit owl."</div>' 'autogenerated_68674'>><<setred +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Who says I don't? You are integral to my survival, Liefred." <b>[FLIRT]</b></div>' 'autogenerated_68675'>><<set $redromanceflag += 1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"It's funny, hearing you talk as if you're not… well, you," Red mutters to himself, his green eyes twinkling with a brief glint of warm mischief. But then his face sobers as he turns back to Archimetius, so you decide to leave the flirtation for a more appropriate time. <<include 'archimetiustalk'>>

Red glances once at your face, pausing briefly as if you've caught him off-guard, before he smiles quickly and quips gently, "That's flattering, but you'd better be careful with your teasing, <<c halfname2>>. If I were anyone else, I could get the wrong idea." But then his face sobers as he turns back to Archimetius, so you decide to leave the flirtation for a more appropriate time. <<include 'archimetiustalk'>>

<<nobr>><<if $specialization is "wild">> Red turns to regard you with a soft smile. "Well, that's no surprise, considering you're a Wild-Mage," he teases. "Though can you imagine if you were one but hated animals?" <<else>> Red turns to regard you with a soft smile. "I've noticed," he tells you with warm approval. <<if $compassionate >= 70>> "Which is no surprise: you have a big heart." <<else>> "Which is quite amusing, considering you'd seem to prefer it if people think you have a cold, flinty heart." <</if>> <</if>><</nobr>> But then his face sobers as he turns back to Archimetius, so you decide to get back to the matter at hand. <<include "archimetiustalk">>

<<nobr>><<if $specialization is "wild">> <<setred -3>>Red glances at you in surprise. "What, even being a Wild-Mage?" <br><br> You shrug. "They're a means to an end, just like any other type of magic." <br><br> "Huh. That… seems to be a rare view to take, especially for a Mage of the <i>Fera</i> order. I'd like to talk more about that sometime." <<else>> Red glances at you thoughtfully. "I don't think that's an uncommon view," he says. "Most people view them as working creatures, here to aid or alleviate our labors, and not much more. You're not obligated to like them." <</if>><</nobr>> But then his face sobers as he turns back to Archimetius, so you decide to get back to the matter at hand. <<include "archimetiustalk">>

<<nobr>><<if $specialization is "wild">> <<setred -5>> <<set $redromanceflag -= 5>> Red glances at you in outright shock. "But you're a Wild-Mage!" <br><br> You glower back at him. "So? That means I'm the best-equipped to determine just how tiresome they really are." You've spent enough time in their heads, examining their thoughts, to decide that you vastly prefer mankind to its beastly counterparts. <br><br> Red is almost agog at you. "I'm sure I've never heard of something like that," he says blankly. "A Fera Mage who feels antipathy towards animals? It sounds like something out of an ironic play." <<else>> Red glances at you with his eyebrows raised. "Noted," he says, not seeming to know what else to say to that. <</if>><</nobr>> But then his face sobers as he turns back to Archimetius, so you decide to get back to the matter at hand. <<include "archimetiustalk">>

Red sighs heavily. "It is, though I admit that I don't have much personal experience with it in my own life, aside from Archmage Tevanti. All of my close relatives are still in good health. Even the cats I grew up with are still around." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Smile at him. "You've led a blessed life, then."</div>' 'archi4_blessed'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Look away. "Good for you. Not all of us can say the same."</div>' 'archi4_bitter'>><<set $redromanceflag -= 5>><<setred -5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Look at him incredulously. "But surely you've thought about it?"</div>' 'archi4_thought'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Keep things academic. "Still, it makes you wonder how much better life would be if someone came up with some way to, say, vanquish death by old age, the way the Elves have..."</div>' 'archi4_academic'>><<setred +1>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

He smiles back at <<nobr>><<if $redromanceflag >= 15>> you, his eyes soft. <<else>> you. <</if>><</nobr>> "Don't I know it." <<include "archimetiustalk">>

Red looks at you suddenly, wincing as if he'd just kicked a wall. "Damn my tongue, <<c firstname>>, but that was careless of me. I'm sorry." You avoid his gaze and shrug, unsure if whether to be magnanimous, envious, or otherwise. It's clear Red has led a charmed life, surrounded by loving friends and family, blessed with good health and some sort of shield against bad luck or disaster… A golden boy of the gods, it seems, whereas your life has been marked by one tragedy after the next. It's not exactly his fault, but it leaves a bitter taste in your mouth regardless. An awkward silence reigns for a moment before you both turn back to Archimetius. <<include "archimetiustalk">>

"I suppose I have," Red answers musingly. "Though I've always just assumed I would die young. Blown up in an accident or caught halfway through a wall, or something. For some reason I never imagine growing old." "<<c god>>, Red." You make the warding hand-sign for <i>Avert</i>—a superstitious Mage gesture to dispel bad luck. He gives you a sheepish look. "Sorry—that was more morbid than I was intending." Still, it somewhat explains his cavalier, somewhat impetuous attitude towards things, including joining the Shepherds. <<include "archimetiustalk">>

Red turns to give you a thoughtful sidelong look. "Careful, <<c halfname2>>," he murmurs. "It's that kind of thinking that got people like us burned at the stake before the Castigation." You shrug. "It's like you always say: 'What's a little progress without some risk?'" "I'm <i>sure</i> I haven't said anything as eloquent as that." "You may not have used those exact words, but they're essentially your life motto…" "Your understanding of me is actually somewhat terrifying." <<include "archimetiustalk">>

You gaze up at the bird, who rearranges his splayed, frayed wings in an attempt to get more comfortable. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Should I go fetch a Healer?"</div>' 'helparchi_healer'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Do any of these books have something that could help?"</div>' 'helparchi_books'>><</link>> <<if $specialization is "wild" and $psionic >= 40>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Let me talk to him and see what's going on."</div>' 'helparchi_talk'>><<setred +1>><<setmagic +1>><<setpsionic +1>><</link>><</if>> <<if $specialization is not "wild" or $psionic < 40>><div class="inactive-item">"Let me talk to him and see what's going on."</div><</if>> <<if $specialization is "healer" and $intelligence >= 50 and $magic >= 50 and $astral >= 40>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Let me try to heal him."</div>' 'helparchi_heal'>><<setred +3>><<set $redromanceflag += 1>><<setmagic +1>><<setastral +1>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($specialization is not "healer" or $intelligence < 50 or $magic < 50 or $astral < 40)>><div class="inactive-item">"Let me try to heal him."</div><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

Red rubs his mouth in worried thought. "I considered that, but healing animals is a markedly different task than healing people," he says uneasily. "You'd need a basic understanding of owl anatomy to do it, I think, and I doubt any of the Healers in our infirmary know anything about that…" "One of the beast doctors, then?" There's a specialist who tends to your ahfuri, the horses, and the other mounts in your stables, though you're not sure if he'll have anything suitable for a bird. "Or do we have someone who looks after the messenger birds in the rookery?" Red brightens. "I hadn't thought of that! Yes, maybe if we go there and ask, or fetch Shery…" As he speaks, he reaches out once more to touch Archimetius, who opens his beak and gives a faint, querulous cry… <<include "archiexplode">>

Red sends you a dry look. "I don't tend to keep books about animal husbandry around here, but even if there was something that was relevant, it would take too much time to go through them all. I've been thinking of conjuring a spirit of knowledge to index it all so I can have an assistant who can pull things off the shelves as I need them, but I haven't gotten around to it…" As he speaks, he reaches out once more to touch Archimetius, who opens his beak and gives a faint, querulous cry… <<include "archiexplode">>

Red smiles at you, clearly relieved. "Thank you, <<c firstname>>," he says gratefully. "If we could just make sure he's comfortable, that would mean a lot." You nod and reach out a tendril of magic towards the ailing owl, brushing against his fevered mind delicately, with the care of handling a fragile orb of glass. The owl doesn't resist your intrusion, as some haughtier creatures are prone to do, but neither does he rise much to meet it. You sense from the great bird's mind flickers of hazy panic and distress, not the usual lordly grandeur and disdain you normally sense from him: you feel waves of reeling confusion, of the feeling that something isn't <i>quite right</i>… but neither is this the resigned acceptance that accompanies natural death, nor the red delirium of disease. <i>Not right</i>, you hear Archimetius murmur, his usual lofty tone now as soft as a mourning dove's coo. <i>Burning—inside—</i> You get some flashes of his memories as you try to sort through the animal's mind for more cogent thoughts: being hatched in some Mage's shop for exotic familiars, seemingly before the Castigation; watching as a young man with grand, sparkling red-gold robes enters the shop and peers up at him with a look of open <<nobr>><<if $education is "Circle-trained">> wonder—is that Archmage Tevanti's face, the crinkle-eyed, kind features polished by an unfamiliar youth?; <<else>> wonder; <</if>><</nobr>> long years spent staring archly down at frightened or penitent or eager students in the Archmage's office, giving counsel or observations to the headmaster while being fed bits of chicken liver or mouse hearts in indulgent exchange, the rest of the inedible viscera donated to the first-year potions classes… <i>Not my time</i>, the bird pants weakly. <i>Time for what?</i> you ask him, keeping your tone gentle. <i>How can we help you, Archimetius?</i> <<include "archiexplode">>

Red glances at you with surprise. "You can heal animals, too? I thought you needed an understanding of their anatomy to do that." You raise your brows at him as you reach out towards Archimetius. "Who says I don't?" The volume on bird biology in your room certainly says otherwise. Red's lips quirk in wry, laughing wonder. "You never cease to surprise me, <<c firstname>>," he murmurs, his tone openly admiring. You smile and continue to stretch your arms up—Red fetches you a step stool to make things easier—laying your hands on Archimetius's light, feathery body with infinite care. You close your eyes as you allow your magic to wash over the disheveled creature, who scarcely seems to notice your touch. Then you frown to yourself as your magic maps out Archimetius' system. Rather than the yellow-gray or sickly green thread of disease, or the slow extinguishing of light that accompanies death by old age, you find a curious, fluttering flame dancing within the owl, bright scarlet and violet susurrations like none you've ever seen before, far more stark and vivid than you were expecting for such an ailing creature. What could <i>this</i> be all about? The fizzing and sparking inside Archimetius reminds you of a firecracker, or the burning fuse of some kind of bomb… <<include "archiexplode">>

Apropos of nothing, and with no warning at all, the owl explodes into a column of fire and light. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $redromanceflag >= 12>><<link '<div class="choice-item">You stumble back with a squeak of surprise and fall directly into Red.</div>' 'red_fall'>><<set $redromanceflag += 2>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Get down!" You tackle Red to the ground and cover him with your body.</div>' 'red_tackle'>><<setcourage +1>><<setstrength +1>><</link>> <<if $astral >= 45 and $strength >= 40>><<link '<div class="choice-item">You throw up a translucent Shield to protect you both.</div>' 'red_shield'>><<setstrength +1>><<setastral +1>><<setcourage +1>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($astral < 45 or $strength < 40)>><div class="inactive-item">You throw up a translucent Shield to protect you both.</div><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Step back and instinctively shield your eyes from the sudden flare.</div>' 'red_stepback'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Scream bloody murder and flap your hands like a beheaded chicken.</div>' 'red_scream'>><<setcourage -3>><<setcharisma -1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Instantly, surprisingly muscular arms wrap around you as you fall backward; you and Red topple together to the floor, but you hardly feel the jolt of the impact at all, cushioned as you are by his tall, lean body as Red holds you protectively against him. You're immediately enfolded in solid warmth, in the whisper and sheen of silk robe sleeves, and in the wholly distracting scents of juniper, ink, clean soap, and something else that is simply unmistakably <i>Red</i>. His heart bangs beneath your ear like the thump of a siege-engine. You lift your head to check on him, and find Red staring back at you, the look in his eyes startled but surprisingly intent as his hand automatically lifts to cup your cheek. His warm, broad palm against your skin makes it tingle, and his green eyes are intense and captivating, flecked as they are with gold from the flames above you. "Are you all right?!" he demands, the surprise in his voice seeming to hover a shade into concern or even outright alarm. You take a breath, trying not to notice just how close your lips are, or the ripple of sinuous warmth beneath you as Red shifts his weight onto his elbow. "Fine," you begin. Then you both glance up at the perch behind you. <<include "red_continues">>

You hear Red's startled—and rather undignified—"<i>oof</i>" as you engage him in a full-body tackle, bearing him down to the ground as you try to shield him from the sudden eruption of flames now consuming Archimetius' perch. <<nobr>><<if ($redromanceflag >= 15 and $aroace is not "true" and $ace is not "true")>> <br><br> For a moment, all your senses are tangled by the solid, surprisingly muscular warmth of his body beneath yours, the whisper of his silk working robe against you, the wholly distracting scents of juniper, ink, clean soap, and something else that is simply unmistakably <i>Red</i>. When you lift your head to check on him—and the situation, you tell yourself—your gaze is caught by his wide green eyes, flecked with gold from the flames behind you. Your attention snags, quite inappropriately, on the fact that his lips are slightly parted in surprise and very close to yours… and on the idea that, if you were to simply lean forward and slot your mouth against his, you could taste him intimately, so much so that your lips fairly burn with the ghost of it… and on the realization that his gaze seems equally captivated by your face and especially the sight of your own lips… <br><br> Abruptly, the two of you rip your eyes back up to the burning tree, checking that the flames aren't in danger of falling on you both. <<else>> The back of Red's head bangs against the floor, but you waste no time into rolling into a coiled, ready position, effectively caging his body with yours. <</if>><</nobr>> "Are you all right?!" you both blurt out. <<include "red_continues">>

You hurl up a shield of defensive magic to protect you from the flames, though you quickly realize that the blaze now consuming Archimetius' perch is entirely heatless. Beside you, Red grabs your arm. "Are you all right?!" <<include "red_continues">>

Beside you, Red grabs your arm and jerks you back. "Get back! Are you all right?!" From his panicked tone, he clearly thinks that you've been injured, but you realize quickly—and a bit sheepishly—that the blaze now devouring Archimetius' perch is entirely heatless. <<include "red_continues">>

The top of the tree is completely ablaze, but it takes only seconds for you to quell and dampen the fire into nothing with your magic. Making a strangled noise of alarm, Red hurries forward to examine the nest where Archimetius was resting… before he quickly recoils like a startled cat. "What in the…" You crane your neck to look, too. And rather than finding the charred, feathery corpse of the ancient owl, you're surprised beyond measure to find that in his place is… …a bald newborn chick, peering down at you with a mingled expression of both dazed confusion and supreme, apoplectic outrage. <<page_break "...What?" "red_stare">>

You and Red turn to stare at each other. The little chick in its nest makes an ugly gargling noise. And then, ridiculously, you both begin to laugh. And soon enough, you're both clutching your sides, tears of mirth gathering in your eyes as you howl with both incredulity and relief. <<page_break "Some time later..." "red_later">>

"So Archimetius was part phoenix all along," Red says wonderingly. The two of you sank, weak-kneed, onto the cold stone floor of the lab, resting your backs against the legs of the workbench behind you while baby Archimetius sits, trembling with indignant fury, in a makeshift nest lined with soft straw, linen, and feathers between you. "Archmage Tevanti must have spent a fortune getting him from some exotic breeder centuries ago." "Or maybe Archmage Tevanti experimented on Archimetius himself," you propose, leafing through a volume on archaic potions, compounds, and brews. According to two texts, you've found that baby phoenix chicks feed on the gum of frankincense resin and apple peels, though baby owlets—which Archimetius still resembles—eat dead mice, so you've proffered him both and are simply waiting to see which he'll pick. Archimetius, in his usual fashion, has currently opted to ignore your offerings and has instead fallen into a deep sleep, exhausted by his fiery transformation. "Either way, it would have been nice for him to warn you beforehand that his bird was going to violently explode." "At least there was no harm done," Red says with a laugh. "And now I finally understand why such a powerful Archmage kept around a practically-senile old owl as his familiar. I wonder if he has any other properties that are useful, beyond apparent reincarnation? Do his feathers count as phoenix feathers, for example?" Already his eyes have lit up with a greedy interest as he begins to think of all of the possibilities. You laugh. "Becoming Archmage has its perks, after all. Now you get to exploit and harvest the old one's familiar as your own." "Oh, he's not <i>my</i> familiar," he says with a hint of chagrin. "Familiars like Archimetius only ever truly bond to one Mage. I'm just his caretaker." Suddenly he pauses, looking as if a thought has just struck him. You glance at him. "What is it?" "Hm?" Red smiles sidelong at you and shakes his head. "Oh, nothing. I suppose I just realized… I guess I feel that way about the Circle, too. Like I'm not <i>actually</i> its Archmage. I was just… its guardian, a kind of transitional regent or steward, you know, holding it in trust until a better situation came along. Archmage Tevanti charged me with its safekeeping, but I was never its true master." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm sure that isn't true. They <i>do</i> look to you as their leader, you know."</div>' 'red_support'>><<setred +1>><<setloyal +1>><<set $redharden += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"That makes sense. It was never something you wanted, after all."</div>' 'red_successor'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"And now you're free of the burden. You've safely delivered the Circle to its safe haven, and now you can be your own man again."</div>' 'red_burden'>><<setred +3>><<setloyal -3>><<set $redharden -= 1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Red smiles softly at you. <<nobr>><<if $redromanceflag >= 15>> <<if $redrelationship is "rival">> "Were you always so supportive of me? I hardly recognize you, <<c halfname2>>." <br><br> You flush hotly, remembering your ancient schoolmate rivalry. "I'm just stating the facts," you mutter. "I'm not so petty as to gloss over the truth." <br><br> Red chuckles. "No. That's something I've always admired about you, too." <br><br> <<include "red_guiltytalk">> <<else>> "Do they?" he teases. "And how do <i>you</i> see me, <<c halfname2>>?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You blush, your heart suddenly speeding up. "I... I..."</div>' 'red_blush'>><<set $redromanceflag += 3>><</link>> <<if $redrelationship is "friend" or $red >= 90 or $redrelationship is "ex">><<link '<div class="choice-item">Nudge him affectionately. "You're my best friend, of course."</div>' 'red_bestfriend'>><<setred +1>><</link>><</if>> <<if $redrelationship is "ex">><<link '<div class="choice-item">Suddenly you can't meet his eyes. Is he your ex-lover, a relic of the past... or your future? "Some days I don't even know, myself."</div>' 'red_exlover'>><<set $redromanceflag += 3>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Laugh. "You're a good friend and colleague. I enjoy working alongside you and spending time with you."</div>' 'red_colleague'>><<setred +3>><<set $redromanceflag -= 3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Shrug. "As a coworker?"</div>' 'red_coworker'>><<setred -1>><<set $redromanceflag -= 10>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Roll your eyes. "Sort of a nuisance. I wish you'd remember to feed yourself."</div>' 'red_nuisance'>><<setred -7>><<set $redromanceflag -= 15>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <</if>> <<else>> "You are endlessly encouraging, <<c firstname>>," he says, almost in a tone of wonder. "It means a lot that you hold me in such regard. I feel the same way about you, obviously." <br><br> <<include "red_guiltytalk">> <</if>><</nobr>>

You hardly know what to say! And Red is looking at you with such a quiet—yet somehow knowing—smile that you suddenly realize exactly why so many people fall for him. He so effortlessly steps past your guard, able to fluster you not just with charming tricks or empty flattery, but with nothing more than his direct and honest gaze… Your treacherous heart thumps noisily in your chest. Red reaches up and gently brushes a strand of your hair away from your cheek, making your skin spark from the contact. "Should I take it as a good thing that it's a hard question to answer?" he asks softly. <<include "red_guiltytalk">>

<<nobr>><<if $redrelationship is "ex">> <<set $redromanceflag -= 5>> <<else>> <<set $redromanceflag -= 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> Red smiles at you before scooting closer and slinging a familiar arm around your shoulders. Automatically, you can't help but nestle into the lean and solid warmth of him, inhaling his comforting scent. "And you're mine, <<c halfname2>>," he says quietly. <<nobr>><<if $redrelationship is "friend">> "Always have been." <<elseif $redrelationship is "ex">> But he looks away as if saying so hurt him. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "red_guiltytalk">>

Immediately, the smile drops from Red's face, but he doesn't seem to know what to say to that. The sudden tension in the air quivers between you like a stretched bowstring, your gaze tangled in his, before you find yourself looking away. <<include "red_guiltytalk">>

Red grins at you, bumping your shoulder in a gentle, friendly way. "I feel the exact same way about you, <<c firstname>>." <<include "red_guiltytalk">>

Red laughs, a bit self-deprecatingly. "Well, I can't exactly argue with that." <<include "red_guiltytalk">>

Red winces slightly. "Ouch. I suppose I asked, but I wasn't exactly expecting that." <<include "red_guiltytalk">>

"Have you thought about naming a successor?" you ask him. Red cocks his head in thought. "I have," he admits slowly, "but, truth be told, I haven't yet encountered anyone that I think would be perfect for the position. That sounds very lofty and high-handed of me, but I promise it's not: I'm just not exactly sure what Archmage Tevanti saw in me, so I don't know exactly who or what I'm looking for when it comes to my replacement. And I want to honor his last wishes by not foisting the job onto someone totally unsuitable just because it's convenient for me, if that makes any sense. Besides, the other Mages have said they don't want me to step down just yet." He shrugs. "Since my duties haven't been that burdensome since we were incorporated into the Order, I'm content with waiting for the right person for now. Who knows? Maybe it'll be one of our current students. I just have to wait for them to grow into the position. Wouldn't want them to go through what I did, right after graduation." <<include "red_guiltytalk">>

Red hums thoughtfully. "That is true," he admits slowly. "I do find myself feeling rather liberated, now that we've been incorporated into the Order and I can take more of a backseat. The Circle practically runs itself now. But Pan says that just leaves me more time to get myself into trouble…" <<include "red_guiltytalk">>

Archimetius stirs and croons again, causing the both of you to lean forward and check on the hatchling for a moment. When you're sure he's settled, you look up to find Red staring at you pensively, an odd look on his face. Does he look almost… guilty? At your silent question, Red blows a breath and looks away. "I'm just relieved you're all right," he says, his voice a bit dry. "When Archimetius… self-immolated… the only thing I could think of was, '<i>Oh, gods, I got <<c halfname2>> hurt. I shouldn't have let $them in here</i>.'" He glances back at your face, and the expression on his is definitely one of guilt now. "Truth be told, I <i>was</i> a bit careless. I knew something was unusual about Archimetius, but I still kept him around without bothering to do my due diligence. What if those flames <i>had</i> been real? What if I hadn't been around when he combusted, and the whole Tower ended up going up in flames? What if someone like Shery was in here, or one of the students, cleaning up, and Archimetius exploded and gave them burns?" He winces. "I was arrogant, assuming everything would be fine when I knew there was something to be investigated. I'm just glad no one was hurt as a result of my negligence." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I think you're being a bit hard on yourself. You had no way of knowing."</div>' 'autogenerated_68676'>><<set $redharden -= 2>><<setred +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I think we can take this as a lesson not to be casual about handling forces we don't fully understand."</div>' 'autogenerated_68677'>><<set $redharden += 3>><<setred +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Well, let's just be glad that none of that happened."</div>' 'autogenerated_68678'>><<set $redharden -= 1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Red stares at you for a long, long moment. "Maybe so," he says quietly. <<include 'red_guilt_response1'>>

Red stares at you for a long, long moment. "I think you're right," he says quietly. <<include 'red_guilt_response1'>>

-Red smiles at you, looking a little weary suddenly. "Maybe you're right," he says quietly. <<include 'red_guilt_response1'>>

Then his green eyes flick up to yours. <<nobr>><<if $education is "Circle-trained">> "…Do you remember that time you went away for winter break, during our third year?" <br><br> You frown, dredging up long-neglected memories. "I think so." You recall going on a study trip with several other students and instructors, conducting a field inspection of an ancient castle rumored to be haunted by ghosts. In actuality, the castle had been infected by lingering pre-Castigation magic that had sunk into its foundation—the runes and charter-stones of which you spent several weeks cataloging. "What about it?" <br><br> Red grimaces, as if he knows a scolding is coming. "Well," he enunciates slowly, "something… happened, while you were away. Something that I never told you about." <br><br> You eye him beadily. "Liefred?" <br><br> He laughs at the use of his full name, though the sound is a bit unsteady. "There was… an incident," he admits. "I snuck into the forbidden section of the library while everyone was away for break, and… I accidentally unleashed a malevolent spirit into the halls." <br><br> At your sputter, he holds up his hands in a placating gesture. "To this day, I'm not quite sure what the thing even really <i>was</i>. It wasn't an Endarkened, not exactly, but it was corrupt and warped and twisted by eldritch energies into something quite unrecognizable. I wasn't intending to do it—I was after something else, the name of a different spirit, a very powerful one—but, well, I messed around in sealed tomes, and there you have it. I set loose a rampaging shadow-being into the school." He sighs. "Solhadur was almost completely empty—there couldn't have been more than twenty students in the whole place at the time—so luckily, no one was hurt. None of the other students even saw it. The professors were able to trap the thing and banish it within a half-hour. But it could have been very, very bad, <<c halfname2>>. People could have been slaughtered, and it would have been all my fault. As it stands, the only harm that was done was this." He points to a faint, almost imperceptible scar on his chin that you can't remember noticing before. <<if $redrelationship is "ex">> No, wait: you remember tracing it curiously during one of your… "study sessions," but Red was always kissing you too thoroughly for you to remember to ask questions about it. <</if>> <br><br> You're silent for a moment, appalled. "Why didn't you ever tell me?" <br><br> He sighs and shakes his head. "Because I was too ashamed, <<c firstname>>. As it happens, I was almost expelled for that. In the end, Archmage Tevanti saw my penitence and vouched for me—though why he later chose me as Archmage, I'll never know—but by the time you all came back from break, I just wanted to put the whole thing behind me and forget all about it." <br><br> The two of you are silent for a moment as you digest this. Finally you say, a bit archly, "And let me guess: this spirit you were intent on summoning was a greater spirit of knowledge?" <br><br> Red winces as if you'd stuck him with a knife. "…Yes." <br><br> "Hmm. And <i>why</i> was it in the forbidden section?" <br><br> "…Because the teachers thought the knowledge it possessed was too powerful to be in the hands of students." <br><br> "Right." <<else>> "There was an incident like this," he begins slowly, "once, when I was a student at Solhadur. It was winter break of my third year, and I snuck into the forbidden section of the library to find a tome about…. well, a lot of things, but principally about summoning powerful spirits. But instead I ended up… accidentally unleashing a malevolent entity into the halls." <br><br> "You <i>what</i>?" <br><br> At your sputter, he holds up his hands in a placating gesture. "To this day, I'm not quite sure what the thing even really <i>was</i>. It wasn't an Endarkened, not exactly, but it was corrupt and warped and twisted by eldritch energies into something quite unrecognizable. But, well, I messed around in sealed tomes, and there you have it. I set loose a rampaging shadow-being into the school." He sighs. "Solhadur was almost completely empty—there couldn't have been more than twenty students in the whole place at the time—so luckily, no one was hurt. None of the other students even saw it. The professors were able to trap the thing and banish it within a half-hour. But it could have been very, very bad, <<c halfname2>>. People could have been slaughtered, and it would have been all my fault. As it stands, the only harm that was done was this." He points to a faint, almost imperceptible scar on his chin that you can't remember noticing before. Then he shakes his head. "As it stands, I was almost expelled for the whole affair. But Archmage Tevanti saw my deep penitence and decided to give me a second chance, and the whole matter was tidied up and kept quiet by the time everyone came back from break. Not even Pan or Neon know about it. I was too ashamed to tell them about it. I suppose I just wanted to put the whole thing behind me." <br><br> "Wow. I can't say I blame you." You both fall quiet for a moment as you digest this. "And let me guess: this spirit you were so intent on summoning was a spirit of knowledge?" <br><br> Red winces as if you'd stuck him with a knife. "…Yes." <br><br> "Hmm. And <i>why</i> was it in the forbidden section?" <br><br> "…Because the teachers thought the knowledge it possessed was too powerful to be in the hands of students." <br><br> "Right." <</if>><</nobr>> <<nobr>><<if $dreampartner is "red">> You can't help but frown to yourself. Something about this whole scenario feels familiar, although you're sure you've never heard this story before. Could you have had a dream about it, once upon a time…? <</if>><</nobr>> After another contemplative pause, Red finally draws a quiet breath. "I tell you all of this to emphasize that, for as smart as I may seem, I'm actually a slow learner," he says, making an attempt at sounding wry, though the effort seems a bit subdued now. "I keep having to go through the same lessons over and over, it seems. And sometimes I wonder if I haven't learned a thing at all." He turns to you. "Like I said, I'm just glad you're all right. If my magical faffing around ever got <<nobr>><<if $redromanceflag >= 12>> you hurt, I don't think I'd be able to live with myself. <<else>> you—or anyone else—hurt, I don't think I'd be able to live with myself. <</if>><</nobr>> Maybe I should take today as a gentle reminder to always remember that." <<include "redsreminder">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You don't have to worry about me. I'd prefer if you were more focused on taking care of yourself."</div>' 'red_worry_self'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Trust yourself, Red. I know I do."</div>' 'red_trust'>><<setred +3>><</link>> <<if not hasVisited("red_faffing")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"What kind of 'faffing around' are you doing that has you so worried about this?"</div>' 'red_faffing'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Well, so long as you're careful, I think that's the best we can do. We have to remember that the forces we toy with have enormous power, that's all. Forgetting that would be a grave error."</div>' 'red_careful'>><<set $redharden += 2>><<setred +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"That's no way to think. Fortune favors the bold. Progress can't be made without both courage and risk."</div>' 'red_bold'>><<set $redharden -= 5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"All this over an owl? I think you're being a bit dramatic about all this. You're overthinking it."</div>' 'red_dramatic'>><<setred -10>><<set $redromanceflag -= 5>><<set $redharden -= 3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Red smiles. "I know," he says ruefully. "I mean, really, who am I talking to? You're the Hero of Haven, while I have to be reminded not to starve myself to death. I suppose I shouldn't worry…" <<nobr>><<if $redromanceflag >= 15>> He glances quickly at your face before he looks away, clearing his throat. "…But I do." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "red_finale2">>

Red smiles at you softly. <<nobr>><<if $redromanceflag >= 12>> Affectionately, almost unthinkingly, he lifts his hand and brushes his knuckles against the curve of your jaw. <</if>><</nobr>> "Thanks, <<c firstname>>. That… means quite a lot, especially coming from you." <<include "red_finale2">>

"Well, that's just it," Red says, with a hint of unease. "I don't <i>think</i> I'm doing anything harmful—just like I didn't think keeping Archimetius around was a matter of grave importance, but it was. I didn't think going into the forbidden section of the library was all that bad, and I ended up unleashing something wicked into the school. I don't <i>think</i> that my everyday experiments—or researching the Synestra—hold any inherent harm… but life has a way of proving me wrong, sometimes. I'm just wondering if today was a friendly heads-up from the gods, that's all. Before I go too far and do something that causes <i>actual</i> damage." <<include "redsreminder">>

Red's face sobers, but his gaze is thoughtful and approving as he looks into your eyes and nods. "You're right, <<c firstname>>. Of course." <<include "red_finale2">>

Red gives a slightly incredulous laugh. "You'd still say that, even after what I just told you?" You shrug. "The greatest Archmages in our history did insane things in pursuit of their goals, but we remember them because of what they accomplished in the end. Where would we be without the man who first discovered translocation, or the first person to ever try summoning a spirit?" "<<c firstname>>, our history is also <i>riddled</i> with cautionary tales. The very man who built this Tower mysteriously vanished in the middle of his own experiments!" "Still. We still use the place he built, don't we? We can't say the same about the boring old Mage who stuck to the rules and died after a quiet life eight hundred years ago." He sighs, running a hand through his vivid red hair. "I suppose you have a point…" <<include "red_finale2">>

Red smiles, a little self-deprecatingly. "You think so? Well, I suppose you could have a point. I do have a tendency to do that." <<include "red_finale2">>

Archimetius flops around in his sleep then, drawing both of your attentions. <<nobr>><<if $redromanceflag >= 15>> Red looks around, then says, "There should be a book around here about magical hybrids—it has a purple cover. Ah, there it is…" <br><br> At his comment, you turn to pass him the thick, battered purple tome lying by your right hip, the side farthest from Red. At the same time, he casually bends across you to reach for the same volume, and his hand happens to alight on yours. <br><br> You glance up at each other, and again, you're arrested by the sight of his green eyes looking into yours, the sudden nearness of his proximity, the warmth of his body making the air between you seem to hum. His fingers rasp against the back of your hand in a calloused kiss that leaves a ghostly tingle of heat on your skin; for some reason, that slight contact sparks something deep in your gut. Red stills, watching your expression with his usual attentive perceptiveness… and then slowly, unthinkingly, your hands ease off of the book as he turns your palm delicately and tangles your fingers together. <br><br> It's a strangely intimate gesture, but done so casually, almost instinctively or unconsciously, that it feels as if you do this all the time. Red's hand in yours is tan and broad and friendly, and as he looks intently into your expression, it feels as if it would be the easiest thing in the world to tilt your face and… <<else>> Red sighs. "And now, I suppose, I'm a bird-keeper," he says in resigned tones. "I'll have to keep this a secret from the others, I think… there are a few Mages in the Circle who'd be dying to study Archie in their own lab, and I don't fancy the thought of having to fend their attempts off for the next several weeks. Plus, there's the fact that Blade won't be very happy to discover I brought a ticking time-bomb into the compound…" <</if>><</nobr>> A knock at the door makes the both of you jump. At Red's call of acknowledgment, Pan and Neon appear in the doorway, immediately noticing the two of you sitting on the ground with a sprawled, naked hatchling in a bowl between you. Neon also blinks at the charred, blackened remnants of Archimetius' tree. "What happened there?" the Binder asks in wondering tones. Pan, for his part, is staring at you and Red with lifted brows. "What a trio the three of you make!" he comments lightly, planting his fists on his hips. "What are you, bird-parents now? Did you adopt an orphaned chick or something?" "Actually, this is Archimetius," Red explains hastily. He gives a quick recap of what just transpired, and from there, it's a flurry of activity as Pan and Neon help you set the lab to rights and discuss the care of the phoenix hybrid chick. In the presence of his other friends, Red instantly goes back to being his easygoing, laughing demeanor… but as you stare at his back, with the blackened remnants of Archimetius' tree and the World Ark sitting inert in the corner of the lab, you suddenly can't fight back a shiver, as if a cool, invisible wind had just passed over you both. But then Red turns back to you with a smile, and he invites you to join him and the others for a meal and a strategy game of four, and the momentary feeling of foreboding dissipates. For now. <<include "redover">>

You're just crossing one of the inner courtyards when you spot Red hurrying towards you, his green eyes bright with that familiar, passionate excitement that you've come to associate with the frenzy he enters when he's in "research mode," as Pan and Neon call it. "<<c halfname2>>," he says, drawing to an abrupt halt in front of you and rocking back on his heels with the effort of stopping in time. <<nobr>><<if $red gte 65 or $redromanceflag gte 10>>From the twitch of his hands, you guess that he barely checks himself from seizing your shoulders in his excitement.<</if>><</nobr>> He's wearing a rumpled work robe, its wide sleeves tied up to keep them out of the way, the collar twisted and askew and his grin bright and almost manic: nothing like the composed, stylish picture he typically presents. "You'll never guess what's happened." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $intelligence gte 50 and $red gte 65>><<link '<div class="choice-item">You try to suppress a smile. "You've found a lead on the Worldwalkers?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68679'>><<setintelligence +1>><<setred +1>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You eye him skeptically. "You finally remembered to eat breakfast?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68680'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You grin back with equal excitement. "What?!"</div>' 'autogenerated_68681'>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setred +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Sigh heavily. "I expect you'll tell me regardless."</div>' 'autogenerated_68682'>><<setred -5>><<set $redromanceflag -= 1>><<setcharisma -3>><<setcompassionate -1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $redromanceflag gte 15>><<set $redromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</nobr>>Red blinks, then breaks into an even bigger grin. "Am I that obvious?" he mutters ruefully. "Well, whatever—<i>yes</i>, I have!" <<include 'redexplainshislead'>>

Red snorts, waving off the comment as if the concept of 'breakfast' is as meaningless and insubstantial to him as air. "What? No, that's—I don't remember the last thing I ate, but that's besides the point!" His grin widens. "I think I've found a new lead on the Worldwalkers." <<include 'redexplainshislead'>>

<<nobr>><<if $redromanceflag gte 15>><<set $redromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</nobr>>Now he does seize you by the shoulders, giving you a little shake. "I've found a new lead on the Worldwalkers!" <<include 'redexplainshislead'>>

Red's excitement doesn't exactly dim even in the face of your sarcasm, but he does pull back from you slightly, his tone sobering a little as he clears his throat. "I've found a new lead on the Worldwalkers," he says in a more moderate tone. <<include 'redexplainshislead'>>

He essentially accosts you in the middle of the courtyard as he explains his progress with animated gestures, seemingly oblivious to the people cutting around you, busy with their own tasks (though some undoubtedly shoot the two of you curious looks as they walk by). "The Worldwalkers were incredibly secretive and reclusive," Red begins. "That much goes without saying: the very nature of their work and powers means their sect had to be underground, incredibly closed-off and reclusive, or <i>anyone</i> could gain access to their ranks and therefore their secrets. With that in mind, I've only been searching for evidence of them in remote, faraway places, places that one would expect a secret society of Mages to hide in. Distant rocky isles, hidden bases in the mountains, that kind of thing. But then I got to thinking—well, the <i>Circles</i> are secret societies of Mages, and they pretty much always linger in places like Solhadur and Capra, at least at first. Why? Because of the history—they need access to the resources that such places can provide. The Worldwalkers may have been powerful, maybe even all-knowing, but even they had to study other texts to piece together their art, don't you think? They would have needed access to libraries and archives and spell-making materials, at least at some point. And where was the seat of power for all Mages back then? Haven. Or, well, Magus, before it was renamed." "Once I stumbled onto that tract of thought, it was off to the races. Haven is essentially built on top of thousands of Mage ruins, we all know this. Our compound is one prime example, kept preserved and intact by Archmage Tangriel's magic for all this time. No one was able to access it during the intervening years because of the wards—or curses, as the locals thought of it—so they built the neighborhood up around it. But there are far more sites just like it. An entire network of magical remnants, some undoubtedly forgotten and sealed away and buried, others preserved and kept secret, still others appropriated and incorporated into the very fabric of Haven itself. Flowershops and bakeries are operating out of ancient sites that might have once served as Magus's banks, or its schools or museums." "Or its libraries?" you add patiently. He smiles ruefully at you, <<nobr>><<if $red gte 75 or $redromanceflag gte 15>>his eyes fond. <<else>>looking slightly chagrined by his own fervor.<</if>><</nobr>>"Exactly. And I think I've located one such site. It's something of an urban legend, something only the nearest locals would know about, like a secret path or choice swimming hole that only lifelong residents of a town have knowledge of and don't tell tourists about. A place where the youths might go to hang out, but which would never appear on any pamphlet or traveler's guide about the place... But I think it's <i>there</i>." He shakes his head in wonder. "And if my hunch is correct, it might contain some fragment or clue about the Worldwalkers." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Caution him. "I don't know, Red. That sounds like a very thin possibility. I would hate for you to be disappointed."</div>' 'autogenerated_68683'>><<setintelligence +1>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Remain skeptical. "What kind of clue are you expecting, exactly? This all seems pretty vague."</div>' 'autogenerated_68684'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Scoff. "Are you serious? You don't think that such a place would have been discovered and destroyed by now? It's been two hundred years!"</div>' 'autogenerated_68685'>><<setcompassionate -1>><<setcharisma -3>><<setred -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Grab his hands. "What a find! Imagine if this is the breakthrough you've been looking for!"</div>' 'autogenerated_68686'>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setred +3>><<set $redromanceflag += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Punch him in the shoulder. "Good job. I knew you'd be able to dig up something eventually."</div>' 'autogenerated_68687'>><<setred +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

It's been two hundred years since Magus was conquered, after all. There are so many things that could have gone wrong in the meantime: exposure to the elements, water, rot, and mold would have destroyed any books that weren't already discovered, looted, or destroyed beforehand, for one thing. Red gives you a quick grin. "Great libraries like the ones in this city always warded their books against things like that," he answers confidently. "They were even proofed against fire, most of the time. I grant that the place might be cleared out by now, but if it isn't, the books should still be intact." Then he adds, <<nobr>><<if $redromanceflag >= 15 and $gender is "female">>pinching your cheek playfully:<<elseif $redromanceflag >= 15 and $gender is "male">>squeezing your shoulder fondly:<<elseif $redromanceflag >= 15 and $gender is "xixian">>ruffling your hair gently:<</if>><</nobr>> "Don't worry; I won't get my hopes up. It's less about the results and more about the fun of the process than anything." His eyes gleam mischievously. <<include 'askmctoaccompanyred'>>

Red shrugs his broad shoulders. "A librarian's records, maybe? A log of visitors and the texts they checked out? Some personal journal, or a reference to the Synestra in one of those centuries-old books?" At your incredulous look, he laughs and says freely, "It's a thin possibility, I admit. But I'm not getting my hopes up. It's more about the fun of the process than anything." His eyes gleam mischievously. <<include 'askmctoaccompanyred'>>

Red smiles ruefully and shrugs. "You're right, and yet I still can't help but feel excited. This place was preserved for two hundred years, wasn't it?" He gestures expansively at the complex around you. "Besides, libraries back then always warded their books against a lot of things: fire, water, rot, pests. It was typically their chief concern. The place could still be cleared out, I grant you, but if it isn't, those books may still be intact." Then he adds, "But don't worry. I won't be devastated if I'm wrong. It's more about the fun of the process than anything." <<include 'askmctoaccompanyred'>>

Red beams and squeezes your hands back. "It feels a little like fate," he admits, a charming dimple forming in his right cheek. "It always felt a little bizarre, that the Veiled Circle of Solhadur would come to Haven for sanctuary. But what if it was meant to for <i>this</i>? What if I'm supposed to be here, to finally uncover what I can about the Worldwalkers...?" Then he looks at you again and laughs, <<nobr>><<if $redromanceflag >= 20>>his thumb rubbing affectionately against yours. <<else>>releasing your hands a little sheepishly. <</if>><</nobr>>"But don't worry. I'm not getting my hopes up. It's more about the fun of the process than anything." <<include 'askmctoaccompanyred'>>

Red grins, rubbing his shoulder. "Ow. Thanks, <<c halfname2>>. I'm, ah, honored by your faith." <<include 'askmctoaccompanyred'>>

"So when are you going to go check this site out?" you ask him. Red squints up at the sky, shading his eyes as he remarks, "No time like the present, in my mind. It'll take some poking around, but I have a fairly decent idea of where to start." Then he looks back down at you and smiles. "That's why I was coming to find you, in fact. Seeing that we're both off-shift, I was wondering if you'd like to go with me." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I thought you'd never ask." He's gotten you just as interested in this business as he is.</div>' 'autogenerated_68688'>><<setred +5>><<setintelligence +2>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Why me specifically?" You can't help but feel flattered that he thought of you for this...</div>' 'autogenerated_68689'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Meh... Fine, since I don't have anything better to do."</div>' 'autogenerated_68690'>><<setred -5>><<set $redromanceflag -= 10>><<setintelligence -1>><<setcharisma -5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"No, thanks. I'm not looking to do more work on my day off."</div>' 'autogenerated_68691'>><<setred -10>><<set $redromanceflag -= 15>><<setintelligence -5>><<setloyal -5>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setcharisma -3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Red's eyes glint with an excitement that mirrors yours. <<nobr>> <<if $redromanceflag gte 20>> "Brilliant." Then he seems to check himself, hesitates, checks his timepiece, and says, "Then just give me a minute to, ah, get ready. I'll come and meet you in your room?" <<else>> "Brilliant. Then let's go." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'redcheckprepdateornot'>>

<<nobr>><<if $redromanceflag gte 15>><<set $redromanceflag += 1>><</if>> <<if $redromanceflag gte 20>>Red coughs slightly at the question, but he can't seem to take his eyes off of you—or stop grinning—as he answers lightly, his tone confident yet something about the boyish gleam in his eyes a bit shy: "I enjoy spending time with you. You were the first person I thought of. You're brilliant and I value your opinion. I trust you immensely. I'll take any excuse to go on an adventure with you?" <br><br> You cough as well and look away, now feeling <i>very</i> flattered. There's nothing you can say to really argue with that, is there?... <br><br> After a beat where the both of you look down at the ground, scuffing your feet and grinning foolishly at nothing, Red clears his throat and continues, "So, ah... I'll need to change and... get ready. I'll come and meet you in your room?" <br><br> You nod, wondering if the warmth in your cheeks is actually visible. "Sounds good. See you in a moment." <<else>> He grins. "Why not you? <<if $redrelationship is "friend" and $red gte 80>>You're one of my best friends. <</if>> You have exactly the same kind of intrepid spirit that'd be perfect for this, and there's no one else I'd rather have watching my back. Will you come?" <br><br> You nod. "How can I argue with that?" <br><br> Red's eyes gleam. "Brilliant. Then let's go." <</if>> <</nobr>> <<include 'redcheckprepdateornot'>>

Red's pleasant smile doesn't falter, though you think the atmosphere between you cools a little. "Sounds good. Let's go, then." <<include 'redtakesyoutosmoketown'>>

Red's smile doesn't falter, though you think the atmosphere between you cools a little. "Understandable. See you later, then." He lopes away, already shrugging out of his overrobe in his haste. <<include 'redover'>>

<<nobr>> <<if $redromanceflag gte 20>> <<page_break "..." "redprepdate">> <<else>> <<include "redtakesyoutosmoketown">> <</if>> <</nobr>>

<<page_break "Next" "redtakesyoutosmoketown2">>

<<nobr>><<set $redstatus to "He seems interested in pursuing something more with you... but he also seems like he's trying to be mindful, or cautious of coming on too strongly. Trying to test the waters?">><</nobr>>A little while later, you answer a knock at your door and open it to find Red standing there. To your surprise, he now looks very smart, having changed into a more form-fitting, clean-cut robe, styled his hair, and fixed his collar. He smells as if he's freshly-showered, that clean masculine scent that brings cedar soap and juniper to mind, and what's more, he has a book and a bottle of sparkling Starfall Cider in his hands! You stare at the gifts, baffled. "What—?" Red breaks into a laugh at the expression on your face. "Just some tokens for you," he says, cheerful and slightly bashful. His expression is full of mirth, but there's also a note of hesitation or uncertainty behind those green eyes. "I, ah—just thought you'd like them. I saw the book in a shop the other day, and it made me think of you—you said you liked the author the other day at dinner, if you remember. The cider's just for—well, for you to enjoy however. You've been working so hard lately.<<nobr>><<if $redrelationship is "ex" or $reddate is true>> Or, ah. We could use it on a picnic together one of these days. <</if>><<if $redrelationship is "ex">> Like the old days. <</if>><</nobr>>" He clears his throat and rubs the back of his neck. "Just a stray thought." The cider's very expensive, a designer brand that's very popular among Mages right now. "Did you just go buy this <i>now</i>? When did you have the time?" He winks at you. "Perks of translocation. You can nip out to the shop and back in no time at all. Literally." Your stomach flutters as you look at him, contemplating the fact that he made a point to change and buy a gift for you prior to going on what you thought was a purely academic outing. But thinking to look his best, making an effort not to come to your door empty-handed... It feels like something a man would do if he was courting someone. It feels like a <i>date</i>. Is this a date? <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item"><<c god>>, you really hope so. You beam at him. "Thank you. This is lovely."</div>' 'autogenerated_68692'>><<set $redromanceflag += 10>><<setred +5>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> <<if ($courage gte 50)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Kiss him on the cheek. "Thanks. This is so sweet of you."</div>' 'autogenerated_68693'>><<setcourage +1>><<set $redromanceflag += 12>><<setred +5>><<setcharisma +3>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($courage lt 50)>><div class="inactive-item">Kiss him on the cheek. "Thanks. This is so sweet of you."</div><</if>> <<if ($courage gte 75)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Tease him. "Are you <i>courting</i> me, Liefred?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68694'>><<set $redromanceflag += 1>><<setred +1>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($courage lt 75)>><div class="inactive-item">Tease him. "Are you <i>courting</i> me, Liefred?"</div><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Accept shyly. "Thanks. If I'd known, I would have gotten something for you..."</div>' 'autogenerated_68695'>><<set $redromanceflag += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You don't know what to think. "Well... thank you."</div>' 'autogenerated_68696'>><<set $redromanceflag -= 5>><<setcourage -2>><<setcharisma -5>><<setred -3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Reject the gifts. You don't want this turning into something romantic. "I can't take these."</div>' 'autogenerated_68697'>><<set $redromanceflag to 0>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setcharisma -10>><<setcourage +5>><<setloyal -5>><<setred -10>><<set $redstatus to "You made it abundantly clear you only view him platonically.">><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Red beams back you, then clears his throat and looks away. "I'm glad," he says lightly, suddenly looking everywhere but you. Is that a slight blush under his tan complexion? Then he turns back to you and offers his arm with a gentlemanly smile. "Well, then. Shall we?" <<include 'redtakesyoutosmoketown'>>

Red's grinning with so much overt pleasure that he looks like a schoolboy again. His breath catches slightly as your lips brush his warm cheek, and his hand twitches, as if he wants to grab your hip and drag you closer... After you step back to put the book and bottle in your room, you turn back to find Red looking determinedly at the ceiling, a slight blush under his tan complexion. "Well, then," he says lightly after a moment, looking slightly dazed, as if he's lost his train of thought. Then he blinks hard and offers his arm with a gentlemanly smile. "Shall we?" You nod and accept. "We shall." <<include 'redtakesyoutosmoketown'>>

Red grins, his eyes crinkling good-humoredly at you. "My anwer depends on if it's working or not." Then, having neatly side-stepped the question, he offers you his arm. "Now, then. Shall we?" <<include 'redtakesyoutosmoketown'>>

"Your company is all the gift I need, <<c halfname2>>," Red says quickly, giving you a firm smile. Then he offers you his arm, warm and companionable. "Shall we?" <<include 'redtakesyoutosmoketown'>>

Red smiles. "No trouble at all." Then he clears his throat and tips his head meaningfully towards the exit. "Shall we?" <<include 'redtakesyoutosmoketown'>>

Red's usually pretty good at concealing his emotions, but even he can't hide the look of dismay that crosses his face when you pass the gifts back to him, a clear signal of your feelings. He recovers admirably fast, though, and soon enough the crestfallen look on his face smooths away into one of his typical friendly, polite interest. "Of course," he says smoothly, taking the book and bottle back. With a little trick of Conjuration magic, they vanish from sight, presumably teleported back to his room. Then, empty-handed, he takes a step back from you and tilts his head towards the exit, as cool and formal as a diplomat sent to show a guest of honor around. "Shall we?" <<include 'redtakesyoutosmoketown'>>

Red leads you to an area of Smoketown you've never been to before, an admittedly run-down and seedy neighborhood full of dark, twisting alleys shaded from the sun by a thousand clotheslines of laundry draped from window to window, waving desultorily like the graying banners of festivals long past. Here, in this sooty gloom, the eyes of locals seem to gleam out from their doorways and stoops with a beady unfriendliness that harkens you back to when you first arrived in Haven. Back then—before the Shepherds had proven themselves, when they had more enemies and critics and detractors than supporters—it always felt like there was a potential confrontation waiting around every corner. And not always from stray demons. You stare at the midpoint of Red's back as he leads the way, good-natured, jaunty, and totally undaunted. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Red..."</div>' 'autogenerated_68698'>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"<i>How</i> did you find out about this lead, again?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68699'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I think we're more likely to find a knife in the ribs than a secret Mage library, in these parts."</div>' 'autogenerated_68700'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I think maybe you should stay behind me. I wouldn't want you to get hurt."</div>' 'autogenerated_68701'>><<setcourage +1>><</link>> <<if $courage gte 75 or $compassionate lt 50>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Say nothing. You're perfectly comfortable in these parts.</div>' 'arentyouafraidofanything'>><<setcourage +1>><<setcompassionate -1>><</link>><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

He glances back at you and smiles brightly. "Yes?" "Are we going to die?" Red gives a low laugh. "I shouldn't think so. It is a bit—gloomy—but honestly, it's nothing compared to the ruins I'm used to crawling around. You wouldn't believe some of things I've fought off in the name of research. Flesh-eating fish, enchanted hornets whose sting turns the victim to stone..." The blood drains from your face as he rattles off all of the ways he's nearly died over the last few years, including a truly upsetting recounting of how he was nearly crushed in a cave-in and almost suffocated to death, compressed into a space no bigger than a carpetbag. He sounds far too cheerful for this conversation. "Surely there had to be safer ways to go about it." Red shrugs. "I'm not so sure about that. The one pitfall about translocation is that you've got to thoroughly explore a place first before you can translocate to it again. That involves some very intense investigation, at times." You look around, muttering, "I can't see us wanting to translocate back here anytime soon." <<include 'arentyouafraidofanything'>>

"Too long a story to tell," Red answers breezily. "It was a mix of using Shery's knowledge of the Vaults, which hold a wealth of information from Archmage Tangriel's time, to verify and confirm the existence of this archive. And then interviewing some of Chase's thieves about possible entrances to it, if it still exists. A lot of bribery was involved, which also includes a lot of drinking. They couldn't come to a consensus over it, but this area seems the likeliest out of the places they named." You glance around, skeptical. "I wouldn't put it past them to pull some kind of prank on you." Red smiles benevolently. "They seemed sincere enough. And honestly, this place is nothing compared to the ruins I'm used to crawling around. You wouldn't believe some of things I've fought off in the name of research. Flesh-eating fish, enchanted hornets whose sting turns the victim to stone..." The blood drains from your face as he rattles off all of the ways he's nearly died over the last few years, including a truly upsetting recounting of how he was nearly crushed in a cave-in and almost suffocated to death, compressed into a space no bigger than a carpetbag. He sounds far too cheerful for this conversation. "Surely there had to be safer ways to go about it." Red shrugs. "I'm not so sure about that. The one pitfall about translocation is that you've got to thoroughly explore a place first before you can translocate to it again. That involves some very intense investigation, at times." You look around, muttering, "I can't see us wanting to translocate back here anytime soon." <<include 'arentyouafraidofanything'>>

Red gives a low laugh. "You think so? It is a bit—gloomy—but honestly, it's nothing compared to the ruins I'm used to crawling around. You wouldn't believe some of things I've fought off in the name of research. Flesh-eating fish, enchanted hornets whose sting turns the victim to stone..." The blood drains from your face as he rattles off all of the ways he's nearly died over the last few years, including a truly upsetting recounting of how he was nearly crushed in a cave-in and almost suffocated to death, compressed into a space no bigger than a carpetbag. He sounds far too cheerful for this conversation. "Surely there had to be safer ways to go about it." Red shrugs. "I'm not so sure about that. The one pitfall about translocation is that you've got to thoroughly explore a place first before you can translocate to it again. That involves some very intense investigation, at times." You look around, muttering, "I can't see us wanting to translocate back here anytime soon." <<include 'arentyouafraidofanything'>>

<<nobr>><<if $redromanceflag >= 10>><<set $redromanceflag -= 3>><<setred -1>><</if>><</nobr>> Red gives a low laugh. "I appreciate the thought, <<c halfname2>>, but if anything, <i>I</i> should be the one protecting <i>you</i>: I invited you here! Besides, I'm not too concerned. You wouldn't believe some of things I've fought off in the name of research. Flesh-eating fish, enchanted hornets whose sting turns the victim to stone..." The blood drains from your face as he rattles off all of the ways he's nearly died over the last few years, including a truly upsetting recounting of how he was nearly crushed in a cave-in and almost suffocated to death, compressed into a space no bigger than a carpetbag. He sounds far too cheerful for this conversation. "Surely there had to be safer ways to go about it." Red shrugs. "I'm not so sure about that. The one pitfall about translocation is that you've got to thoroughly explore a place first before you can translocate to it again. That involves some very intense investigation, at times." You look around, muttering, "I can't see us wanting to translocate back here anytime soon." <<include 'arentyouafraidofanything'>>

<<nobr>> <<if $education is "Circle-trained">> Later, you pick up the thread of the conversation again as you carefully pick your way through a cramped alleyway littered with refuse, guided by Red's unerring Traveler's sense of direction. "You've always been single-minded," you begin, "but I do remember Pan and Neon teasing you for caring too much about your looks to go rooting around in unglamorous places. Like when those third-years were caught digging up a local cemetery, remember, to study the bones for an anatomical history project? I remember you shuddering and saying that could never be you." <br><br> "Well, yes, because they were <i>grave-robbing</i>, <<c firstname>>," he returns teasingly. "But trying to find answers no matter what is in our blood, don't you think? Not just the students at Solhadur, but Mages in general. It's something we inherited from our ancestors, a strong cultural holdover. It's why many of the major Mage cities never developed huge militaries, you know? The Mages of old were fiercely independent and very focused on their own intellectual pursuits, research projects, individual passions. They barely managed not to let the schools devolve into academic in-fighting; serving in a group-minded collective like an army was thought to be somewhat shameful and base, a waste of an individual's talent, especially during times of peace. We grew up with that kind of legacy, an encouragement to academic fanaticism. Archmage Tangriel was just one of many who died in the pursuit of knowledge—and they treated him as a hero. It's not particularly surprising to me that I'm also of that slant. At least half of my sisters are. And pretty much everyone in the Circle is, too, in their own way. Neon gets just as obsessive with his experiments, and Pan pushes the limits of Shifting every day." <<include "creaturecomfortsred">> <<else>> Later, you pick up the thread of the conversation again as you carefully pick your way through a cramped alleyway littered with refuse, guided by Red's unerring Traveler's sense of direction. "Have you always been so single-minded?" you ask. "At first glance, you don't exactly seem like the type who'd be eager to go crawling around in caves and muck and seedy back-alleys." <br><br> Red smiles at the thought. "I'm not sure if I ought to take that as a compliment or not," he returns mildly. "But to answer your question—yes, I think I've always been like this. Trying to find answers no matter what is in our blood, don't you think? Not just the students at Solhadur, but Mages in general. It's something we inherited from our ancestors, a strong cultural holdover. It's why many of the major Mage cities never developed huge militaries, you know? The Mages of old were fiercely independent and very focused on their own intellectual pursuits, research projects, individual passions. They barely managed not to let the schools devolve into academic in-fighting; serving in a group-minded collective like an army was thought to be somewhat shameful and base, a waste of an individual's talent, especially during times of peace. We grew up with that kind of legacy, an encouragement to academic fanaticism. Archmage Tangriel was just one of many who died in the pursuit of knowledge—and they treated him as a hero. It's not particularly surprising to me that I'm also of that slant. And it's not just me, either. At least half of my sisters are. And pretty much everyone in the Circle is, too, in their own way. Neon gets just as obsessive with his experiments, and Pan pushes the limits of Shifting every day." <<include "creaturecomfortsred">> <</if>> <</nobr>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $education is not "Circle-trained">><<link '<div class="heritage-item">You look away. "I wouldn't know." You weren't raised around Mages enough to have inherited this cultural behavior, apparently.</div>' 'autogenerated_68702'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You nod ruefully. You're like that, too. You'd risk your life for the truth, to satiate that burning <i>need to know</i>, every time.</div>' 'autogenerated_68703'>><<setintelligence +3>><<setred +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You sigh. You're not exactly happy about it, but you can't deny it, either. There was a reason why you were so cavalier about descending into the Cave of Many Mouths.</div>' 'autogenerated_68704'>><<setred +1>><<setintelligence +2>><<setcourage +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You shake your head. "Couldn't be me." You far prefer creature comforts and safety over the prospect of knowledge, and are perfectly content not knowing things.</div>' 'autogenerated_68705'>><<setred -5>><<setintelligence -3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You frown. "I'm not like that at all, though." Magic and research has always been a means to an end to you, not your life's purpose or identity. Life is about far more than that.</div>' 'autogenerated_68706'>><</link>> <<if $heritage is "Ket">><<link '<div class="heritage-item">"See, that would have never flown with the Ket. It's no wonder the two cultures always clashed."</div>' 'autogenerated_68707'>><</link>><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

Red winces at his gaffe, but seems to have nothing immediate to say to this comment. <<nobr>><<if $red gte 75>>After an awkward moment, his hand lifts up to squeeze your shoulder encouragingly, and he gives you a hesitant smile and an encouraging, self-deprecating shrug, as if to say, <i>Don't worry. It's probably for the best.</i> <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'redstreetbreakup'>>

<<nobr>><<if $redromanceflag gte 10>><<set $redromanceflag += 2>><</if>><</nobr>>Red laughs out loud. "Oh, trust me, we know," he teases. <<nobr>><<if $redromanceflag gte 15>> He winks charmingly at you. "A $woman after my own heart."<</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'redstreetbreakup'>>

Red heaves a long sigh, shaking his head. "I know," he says, his face mock-solemn except for the humorous crinkle around his eyes. "I'd be a hypocrite if I admonished you for it, but you <i>do</i> threaten to turn our hairs grey sometimes, <<c firstname>>." "Despite your best efforts, you're still being a hypocrite of the highest order. Look who's talking." You glance pointedly around at your surroundings, and he breaks out laughing. <<include 'redstreetbreakup'>>

<<nobr>><<if $redromanceflag gte 15>><<set $redromanceflag -= 10>>That seems to give Red pause. "Ah." Then, in a neutral, casual tone: "So your tolerance for that kind of adventuring is fairly low, then? You'd prefer a different kind of lifestyle?" <br><br> You nod adamantly. You'll do what you have to for work, but your leisure time is a different story. You do enough mucking around in swamps and caves and haunted ruins as it is. When you don't have to do that, you'd prefer to relax. <br><br> Red's lips quirk ruefully, but he doesn't seem to have much to say about this at first. "What kinds of comforts do you value most, then?" he asks after a moment. <<else>> <<set $redromanceflag -= 5>> Red's lips quirk ruefully. "Truly? I don't think anyone would guess that, the way you go gallivanting around." <br><br> "That's for work. Outside of work, it's a different story." <br><br> "Oh, yes? What kinds of comforts do you value most, then?" <</nobr>> <<include 'redcreaturecomforts'>>

Red smiles a little, looking at you sidelong. "Really? Maybe it's an environmental thing after all, then. We all turned out like that because we grew up in an echo chamber, and you didn't. Your way's by the healthier one, anyway." <<include 'redstreetbreakup'>>

Red nods sagely. "Absolutely. I remember reading an biography by a Mage who'd tried to serve as ambassador to the Ket of Chicora, some, oh, thousand years ago. Even back then, the differences were stark. That lady wrote something to the effect of, 'I thought serving in a unit of superpowered warriors was terrifying, but I find that I'm entirely inoculated by spending years managing my own post-graduates. Gods save me from keeping a bunch of intellectual prima donnas working together for months on end. The Ket were horrified by the prospect of having every order argued over.'" You grin, recalling an old-fashioned adage: <i>A Mage offers wisdom freely, but withholds obedience with a tight fist.</i> "<i>You</i> don't argue over orders." "Not out loud. But that's a matter of learning how to hold my tongue, not my mind..." <<include 'redstreetbreakup'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Fine clothes and fashion."</div>' 'autogenerated_68708'>><<setcharisma +1>><<setlavinet +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Delicious food and drink."</div>' 'autogenerated_68709'>><<sethalek +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Comfortable furnishings and relaxing environments."</div>' 'autogenerated_68710'>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setshery +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Lavish experiences and pampering treatments."</div>' 'autogenerated_68711'>><<setlavinet +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Personal hygiene and impeccable appearances."</div>' 'autogenerated_68712'>><<setcharisma +1>><<setriel +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"High arts and entertainment."</div>' 'autogenerated_68713'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

You love dressing yourself up in gorgeous fabrics and eye-catching outfits on your days off. The idea of tearing your fine shirt squeezing through some dank crevice or covering your expensive shoes in grime is repulsive to you. Red smiles ruefully in understanding, but comments no further. <<include 'redstreetbreakup'>>

You consider yourself a gourmand, a lover of fine dining and exquisite flavors. You're already subjected to the horrors of the usual travel and military fare like hardtack, salted meat, and powdered stews... To continue doing so in your spare time, so that you can root around in dank caves like a hog for truffles, doesn't sound in the least bit appealing to you. Red laughs ruefully. "I don't think it's that bad on my personal expeditions..." You stare pointedly at him. "That's because you forget to eat altogether." "Fair." <<include 'redstreetbreakup'>>

There's nothing better to you than a soft bed to lounge around in, a warm hearth crackling near by, a window seat to laze and doze on during your days off... You're stressed enough in your daily life as it is, and are away from home often—why would you leave it even more to go rooting around in ruins like a hog for truffles in your off-time? Red smiles ruefully, but comments no further. <<include 'redstreetbreakup'>>

You'd far rather a trip to a spa or a grand bathhouse for some luxurious self-care than to voluntarily go rooting around in ruins like a hog for truffles, squeezing yourself through crevices and scrabbling through moldy tomes. You're stressed enough in your daily life as it is! Red smiles ruefully, but comments no further. <<include 'redstreetbreakup'>>

Personal grooming and keeping a sharp appearance are of the highest priority to you. Having a clean face and shining hair are far more preferable than being covered in ancient grime as you go rooting around in ruins like a hog for truffles. The very idea makes you shudder. Red smiles ruefully, but comments no further. <<include 'redstreetbreakup'>>

You couldn't imagine getting by without the finer pleasures of life to distract you: the high arts, things like shows and exhibitions and grand displays of culture and refinement. You'd far rather prefer a trip to the theater than rooting around in the ruins like a hog for truffles, cleaning demonic ichor or thousand-year-old dust out of your hair. Red nods slowly. "It does leave one rather city-bound," he says thoughtfully. You shrug. "It hasn't been a problem for me so far." <<include 'redstreetbreakup'>>

Finally, you reach the tiny, cramped, out-of-the-way street that Red claims is your best lead on finding the entrance to this forgotten library, which he thinks has either been built on top of or has sunk naturally underground over time. According to Red, most cities' streets are now as much as twenty to thirty feet above what they were in ancient times, having gone through cycles of structural collapse, later settlers building on top of that debris, and then later generations building on top of <i>that</i> debris. In this way, it is possible that the library could be sealed away underneath one of the more humble structures you see today. The street itself is one of those byways that has no name or number, the kind of place that only a diehard local could find by navigating a series of confusing little half-stairs, reversed switchbacks, and crooked alleyways. The buildings here lean together as if conspiring, their weathered facades etched with layers of old graffiti and soot from the factories upwind. The air smells faintly of damp stone and dust, as well as the scent of fish frying in oil, which wafts out of one of the ramshackle houses on the corner. You and Red agree that it will be more efficient to split up and ask around. You'll never be more than a stone's throw away from each other, but you'll need all the help you can get in deducing where this hidden library could be, so divvying up the work makes the most sense. He splits off to talk to a tired-looking laborer sitting on a stoop, supervising his children hammering something together with a grim eye. You turn to review your remaining options. A suspicious old woman with thin, withered lips and severe iron-gray hair watches you as she sweeps her tiny porch with a twiggy broom. Across the way, a brash, tough-looking youth with twitchy hands and lank brown hair leans with his back against a wall, observing you with idle, half-closed eyes. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Talk to the stiff, crabby woman.</div>' 'crabbywoman'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Talk to the lolling youth.</div>' 'lollingyouth'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"We don't take kindly to your folk around here," the woman says instantly as you begin to approach her, her tone sharp and full of warning. <<nobr>><<if $intelligence gte 50 or $cunning gte 50>>She has the look of a neighborhood maven, one of those busybodies who fancies herself the watchdog, judge, and matron of the street, imbued by the heavens with the sovereign authority to keep riffraff out of her sight. <br><br><</if>><</nobr>> Your tone slows at her statement. Is she referring to the fact that you're an outsider, a Diminished, or a Shepherd? <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Ignore what she said and greet her politely.</div>' 'autogenerated_68714'>><<setloyal +3>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Probe further. "And what exactly are 'my folk'?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68715'>><<setintelligence +1>><<setcunning +1>><</link>> <<if $charisma gte 70>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Butter her up. "Normally I wouldn't impose, ma'am, but we're here for something important..."</div>' 'autogenerated_68716'>><<setcharisma +3>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>><</if>> <<if $charisma lt 70>><div class="inactive-item">Butter her up. "Normally I wouldn't impose, ma'am, but we're here for something important..."</div><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Spit at her feet. "Up yours, you old crone."</div>' 'autogenerated_68717'>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setloyal -10>><<setcourage +5>><<setred -5>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"Good day, ma'am," you begin, perfectly polite. "I was wondering if you could help me find something..." The old woman huffs, but makes no further move to drive you off, seemingly intrigued by your opening statement. <<include 'oldladytalk'>>

You're not wearing your uniform, so you're curious what this unpleasant lady will say to justify her treatment of you. She narrows her eyes further. "Rich folk," she growls, looking pointedly at your well-made clothes and shoes. "Folk who think they know things, talk nice and easy and smart, act like they own the world because of their schooling." Okay, that was not the answer you were expecting. <<include 'oldladyeducation'>>

"I was wondering if you could help me," you continue, doing your best to look and sound deferent. "I need someone who's an expert on these parts, someone who has the wisdom to point me on my way..." The old woman doesn't relax, but you notice that she does preen a little, patting the blob of her gray bun into shape. She stands for a moment, holding her broom as if it's some kind of warding staff to keep you at bay, before she allows reluctantly, "What is it?" <<include 'oldladytalk'>>

The old woman gasps, her back going stiff with outrage, before she narrows her eyes and disappears inside of her slumping house, slamming the door hard enough to make the shutters on the second floor tremble. When you turn to survey the rest of the street, you find that the youth you'd observed earlier has disappeared, too. <<include 'redsearchfailure'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $education is "Self-taught">><<link '<div class="heritage-item">"I'm no more learned than you are, ma'am. I had to fight and scrap and teach myself my entire life. I never got the chance to go to school."</div>' 'autogenerated_68718'>><<setcunning +3>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"What's your problem with education? Surely it's always a good thing when one betters oneself."</div>' 'autogenerated_68719'>><<setintelligence +1>><<setcharisma -4>><<setcunning -3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Trust me, lady, I'm the farthest thing from rich."</div>' 'autogenerated_68720'>><<setloyal -1>><<setcunning +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

The lady's eyes narrow, but her shoulders seem to relax slightly. "That so?" she mutters skeptically. "Well, then." <<include 'oldladytalk'>>

The lady gives an offended tut and merely shakes her head, leaning her broom up against the wall of her house and retreating inside without a backward glance. When you turn to survey the rest of the street, you find that the youth you'd observed earlier has disappeared, too. <<include 'redsearchfailure'>>

The woman's eyes narrow, but her shoulders seem to relax slightly. "I think you're not aware of just how good you've got it, youngster," she mutters, eyeing your tailored clothes again. Still, she makes no further move to drive you off. <<include 'oldladytalk'>>

She listens as you describe your problem to her, her hoary old face becoming more and more closed as you go on. By that alone, you can tell that she knows what you're referring to—but, predictably, she's reluctant to give you the information. "And why exactly are you looking for this place?" she asks archly. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"We're conducting research on our own project, and we're hoping that the old library will have something of value to us."</div>' 'intelligenceredoldladytest'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"We want to restore it, bring it back to life. It shouldn't lie rotting away down there; it should be refurbished to its former glory and enjoyed by the public once again."</div>' 'autogenerated_68721'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Right now, we're just firing off shots into the dark. We stumbled across evidence that this library exists and were curious about it."</div>' 'intelligenceredoldladytest'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Honestly, I'm just trying to help out my friend over there. Once he has a question in his mind, he <i>has</i> to find its answer. I'm just here to keep him out of too much trouble."</div>' 'autogenerated_68722'>><<setloyal +1>><<setred +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"That's none of your business."</div>' 'autogenerated_68723'>><<setcharisma -10>><<setintelligence -1>><<setcunning -1>><<setred -5>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

This, however, seems to be the wrong thing to say. The old woman's face clouds instantly: it seems she isn't too fond of the idea of her precious neighborhood being invaded by outsiders, or perhaps something else you said offended her. "I can't help you," she says abruptly, and disappears back into her house, slamming the door behind her hard enough to make the shutters on the second story tremble. When you turn to survey the rest of the street, you find that the youth you'd observed earlier has disappeared, too. <<include 'redsearchfailure'>>

The old woman looks over at Red, who carries on with his conversation, oblivious. "That longshanks over there with the fiery hair?" She pauses, almost seems amused by the idea of him wandering all over the city, conducting similar interviews. Then she glances back at you. "What's your relationship to him?" <<include 'redrelationshiptooldlady'>>

The old woman gives a sharp, hard bark, not quite a laugh. "None of my business means none of my help," she declares, and turns to walk back into her house, as straight-backed as a queen. She slams the door shut behind her hard enough to make the shutters on the second story rattle. When you turn to survey the rest of the street, you find that the youth you'd observed earlier has disappeared, too. <<include 'redsearchfailure'>>

<<nobr>><<if $intelligence gte 70>> The old woman pauses, searching your face, but it seems whatever she finds there is enough to convince her of your good intentions. She blows out a breath, then says reluctantly, "All right. There <i>is</i> something like that around here. No one upstanding ever goes down there, though, for it's infested with rats and damp, and it requires a whole lot of slithering. But the young ones like it, for it gives them a place to loiter without being dogged by the Vice Guard, or to hide, eh, certain items they don't want found." <br><br> You try not to let your heart sink, even as you smile encouragingly at her as thanks for the information. "Any chance there are still books down there?" <br><br> The woman shrugs. "I've never been down there myself. I wouldn't know." <br><br> <<page_break "..." "redsearchsuccess">> <<else>> The old woman pauses, searching your face... but it seems whatever she finds there makes her doubt your story. She looks away and grimaces. "Can't help you," she says shortly. <br><br> You frown. "But—" <br><br> "Never heard of something like that around here. Goodbye." And with that, she turns and shuts the door in your face, hard enough to make the shutters on the second floor rattle. <br><br> When you turn to survey the rest of the street, you find that the youth you'd observed earlier has disappeared, too. <br><br> <<include "redsearchfailure">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $redrelationship is "ex">><<link '<div class="choice-item">"We used to be sweethearts. Now I'm not sure what we are."</div>' 'autogenerated_68724'>><<set $redromanceflag += 1>><</link>><</if>> <<if $redromanceflag gte 15>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I like him. I hope he likes me, too."</div>' 'autogenerated_68725'>><<set $redromanceflag += 5>><</link>><</if>> <<if $redromanceflag gte 20>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm in love with him. But don't tell him that."</div>' 'autogenerated_68726'>><<set $redromanceflag += 10>><</link>><</if>> <<if $red gte 80>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"He's one of my best friends."</div>' 'autogenerated_68727'>><<set $redromanceflag -= 5>><<setred +5>><</link>><</if>> <<if $red gte 85 or $redrelationship is "friend">><<link '<div class="choice-item">"He's my best friend. I'm very fond of him."</div>' 'autogenerated_68728'>><<setred +8>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"We're coworkers."</div>' 'autogenerated_68729'>><<setloyal +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

The woman pauses, but seems to respect the truthfulness of your answer. She nods slowly, as if digesting this information, before she says in a curt, dry voice, "Despite my looks, I know a little of what that's like. Well, then." She eyes you for another long moment, stroking her chin, before she allows reluctantly, "All right. There <i>is</i> something like that around here. No one upstanding ever goes down there, though, for it's infested with rats and damp, and it requires a whole lot of slithering. But the young ones like it, for it gives them a place to loiter without being dogged by the Vice Guard, or to hide, eh, certain items they don't want found." You try not to let your heart sink, even as you smile encouragingly at her as thanks for the information. "Any chance there are still books down there?" The woman shrugs. "I've never been down there myself. I wouldn't know." <<include 'redsearchsuccess5'>>

The woman pauses, but seems to respect the truthfulness of your answer. She nods slowly, as if digesting this information, before she says in a curt, dry voice, "Despite my looks, I know a little of what that's like. Well, then. Hoping to impress him, are you? Or help?" She eyes you for another long moment, stroking her chin, before she allows reluctantly, "All right. There <i>is</i> something like that around here. No one upstanding ever goes down there, though, for it's infested with rats and damp, and it requires a whole lot of slithering. But the young ones like it, for it gives them a place to loiter without being dogged by the Vice Guard, or to hide, eh, certain items they don't want found." You try not to let your heart sink, even as you smile encouragingly at her as thanks for the information. "Any chance there are still books down there?" The woman shrugs. "I've never been down there myself. I wouldn't know." <<include 'redsearchsuccess5'>>

The woman snorts, as if caught off-guard by this honest and unguarded answer. She gives you a skeptical look, to see if you're gulling her, but after a long moment, she allows reluctantly, "Suppose I can't fault someone trying to help out a friend. And you won't do anything <i>nefarious</i> with this knowledge, you say?" "Not at all," you answer, trying not to let your voice sound too eager. "We'll leave no trace. In and out. We're academics and scholars in this instance, nothing more. We're not trying to make anyone's lives harder, or anything." It seems she believes the sincerity of your statement, because she allows, "All right, then. There <i>is</i> something like that around here. No one upstanding ever goes down there, though, for it's infested with rats and damp, and it requires a whole lot of slithering. But the young ones like it, for it gives them a place to loiter without being dogged by the Vice Guard, or to hide, eh, certain items they don't want found." You try not to let your heart sink, even as you smile encouragingly at her as thanks for the information. "Any chance there are still books down there?" The woman shrugs. "I've never been down there myself. I wouldn't know." <<include 'redsearchsuccess5'>>

The elderly woman snorts at this simplistic answer. "And what line of work is it that you do?" You brace yourself. "We're Shepherds. Officers of the Order of the Shepherds." For a moment, the woman's hard expression doesn't change; you almost wonder if she knows the name at all. Then she says, frozenly, "Demon-fighters, then?" You nod warily. "That's right." "You think there's a—?" "No, there's nothing in the library... that we know of," you say hastily. "This is for an... unrelated passion project, that's all." She nods slowly, digesting this. "My great-nephew was menaced by an Imp," she says after a moment, almost casually. "Damn near lost his leg, if one of you hadn't been around to kill it. The poison was in his blood for two weeks, too. But one of your Healers worked on him. For free, my nephew said. I still didn't hardly believe it." Then she shrugs and relents, "All right, then. There <i>is</i> something like that around here. No one upstanding ever goes down there, though, for it's infested with rats and damp, and it requires a whole lot of slithering. But the young ones like it, for it gives them a place to loiter without being dogged by the Vice Guard, or to hide, eh, certain items they don't want found." You try not to let your heart sink, even as you smile encouragingly at her as thanks for the information. "Any chance there are still books down there?" The woman shrugs. "I've never been down there myself. I wouldn't know." <<include 'redsearchsuccess5'>>

You make your way over to the dawdling youth, whose eyes instantly narrow into wary slits. "I ain't doing nothin' wrong," he says sullenly. He has a thick Plains accent, rustic and rolling, and his thin chest is bare except for a tattered vest about as durable as a handkerchief. He reeks of charch and something woodier and more acrid—not quite incense, but something like it, only with a bitter tang. From the bloodshot look in his eye, you'd guess it was a stimulant of some sort, possibly Redthorn or Brighthollow. The youth—he looks to be around twenty or twenty-one, though his face is still spotted like an adolescent's—shifts uneasily under your scrutiny. "Didn'tcha hear me?" he growls, pitching his voice low. "I ain't got no business with you! I said get!" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Intimidate him with your authority as an officer of the law. "Listen here, kid. You don't know who you're addressing. I'm the one who gives the orders, not you."</div>' 'autogenerated_68730'>><<setloyal +8>><<setcunning -2>><<setred -5>><<setcharisma -1>><<setcourage +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Threaten him. "Best ease up quick, <i>muti</i>, or you'll be swallowing a handful of your teeth the next time you mouth off to me."</div>' 'threatencheckredlibrary'>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setcourage +3>><<setloyal -5>><<setred -5>><<setstrength +1>><</link>> <<if $gold gte 1>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Bribe him. "Now, now, all I'm looking for is some information. And it'd be in your best interest to trade it with me, rather than driving me off. Easiest deucalion you'll ever make in your life."</div>' 'bribecheckredlibrary'>><<setcunning +3>><</link>><</if>> <<if $gold lte 0>><div class="inactive-item">Bribe him. "Now, now, all I'm looking for is some information. It'd be in your best interest to trade it with me, rather than driving me off. Easiest deucalion you'll ever make in your life."</div><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Charm him. "Now, now, good sir, no need for us to be at each other's throats. I'm just looking for something, and a clever man like you looks like he knows everything there is to know about these parts."</div>' 'charmcheckredlibrary'>><<setcharisma +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Invent a lie. "Listen. The Thief Lord of Haven sent me to retrieve something on his behalf. The Vice Guard aren't far behind me, so if I want to stay one step ahead of those bastards, I need to find it, quick."</div>' 'lieredchecklibrary'>><<setcunning +5>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Unfortunately, it's immediately apparent that this is the wrong tack to take with the sullen youth. He stiffens, eyeing you with renewed dislike, before he says with a tight, challenging smirk: "Really? So are you arresting me right now?" You frown. "No, but..." "Then fuck off." With a rude gesture, he turns and flees into the shadows of a nearby alley. When you turn to survey the rest of the street, you see that the old woman on her porch has also taken her cue and vanished into her house. <<include 'redsearchfailure'>>

<<nobr>><<if $strength gte 70 or $compassionate lt 50>>The youth opens his mouth, as if to challenge you further, before some more self-preservational instinct causes him to re-assess his chances. He gives you another once-over, closes his mouth, and then says after a considerable pause: "...What do you want?" <br><br> That's better. He listens as you describe your problem to him, then says reluctantly: "Yeah, I know the place. Some kids found it something like twenty or thirty years ago, or so the stories say." He gives you a skeptical glance. "Not a nice place, nor an easy one to get to. Gonna have to wriggle around some to get through." <br><br> You heave an internal sigh. "All right. How do I get there?" <br><br> <<page_break "..." "redsearchsuccess">> <<else>> However, your threat holds little weight with a toughened rapscallion such as this: the youth merely sneers, showing a mouth full of grey, uneven teeth, some of them seemingly already broken from fights. "Whatever you say, kakface." <br><br> Before you can waylay him, he shoves his hands into his pockets and walks off, unperturbed. When you turn to survey the rest of the street, you see that the old woman on her porch has also taken her cue and vanished into her house. <br><br> <<include "redsearchfailure">> <</if>><</nobr>>

The youth's eyes light with a new and calculating greed. "No kidding? Show me." Warily, you show him the gold coin, allowing him to examine it as closely as he likes without actually letting him touch it, in case he decides to try and make off with the duke. After a long moment, the young man looks up at you with gleaming, appraising eyes. <<nobr>><<if $cunning gte 70>> "What is it that you're looking for?" <br><br> You describe your problem to him, and as you talk, you can see him revolving certain notions around in his head as easily as if his thoughts were an orrery on a desk. Will he try to take advantage of you by giving you bad directions and false information, then make out like a bandit into the night?... <br><br> The youth must catch the equal gleam of shrewdness in your eyes, because he ultimately relaxes his shoulders and makes a weary gesture of relent. "Yeah, I know the place," he says—and your gut tells you that he's telling you the truth. "Some kids found it something like twenty or thirty years ago, or so the stories say." He gives you a skeptical glance. "Not a nice place, nor an easy one to get to. Gonna have to wriggle around some to get through." <br><br> You heave an internal sigh. "All right. How do I get there?" <br><br> <<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "redsearchsuccess">><<set $gold -= 1>><<notify_gold "-1 Gold">><<setred +5>><</link>> <<else>> "All right. I'll tell you whatever you want." <br><br> He listens as you describe your problem to him, and at the end of your explanation, he says easily, "Yeah, I know what you're talking about. Some kids found it something like twenty or thirty years ago, or so the stories say." <br><br> You can't help the flicker of hope that sparks up in your chest. "Are there any books still down there?" <br><br> He shrugs. "Some, I guess. I never went pawing through 'em myself, but they're there sure enough." <br><br> He gives you a detailed set of instructions before you flip the deucalion at him; he pockets it and strolls off, whistling a cheerful tune. In the next instance, he turns a corner and is suddenly gone. <br><br> <<page_break "..." "redtricklibrary">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $charisma gte 65>> <<setred +3>> The youth scowls, still mistrustful, but there's a flicker of sudden wary interest in his bloodshot eyes—he's used to being treated with suspicion and threats, not flattery. You press on, keeping your tone light and friendly, as if the two of you were old friends exchanging secrets over a drink. <br><br> After a long moment, he exhales sharply through his nose and shoves his hands into his pockets. "Tch. Ain't no one ever accused me of not knowin' things before." He glances away, considering. Then, with a reluctant sigh, he mutters, "What do you want to know?" <br><br> He listens as you describe your problem to him, and at the end of your explanation, he says slowly, "Yeah, I know the place. Some kids found it something like twenty or thirty years ago, or so the stories say." He gives you a skeptical glance. "Not a nice place, nor an easy one to get to. Gonna have to wriggle around some to get through." <br><br> You heave an internal sigh. "All right. How do I get there?" <br><br> <<include "redsearchsuccess">> <<else>> The youth barks out a short, dry laugh. "Oh, yeah? You think butterin' me up's gonna get you somewhere? Piss off, silvertongue. I ain't fallin' for that." <br><br> Before you can press him further, he flips a rude gesture and strides away, disappearing down the alley. When you turn to survey the rest of the street, you see that the old woman on her porch has also taken her cue and vanished into her house. <br><br> <<include "redsearchfailure5">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $cunning gte 70>> <<setchase +1>> <<setred +1>> The youth's wary expression shifts at the mention of the Thief Lord. He squints, rubbing at his jaw as if debating whether to buy your story. But you've told it with just the right mix of confidence and urgency, and more importantly, you look like you're on a mission—like you're someone who knows things he doesn't. <br><br> "Shit," he mutters, evaluating you with fresh eyes. "The Thief Lord really sent you?" <br><br> Chase would be endlessly amused by you using his name to pull clout with a local ruffian, and delighted to be involved even vicariously in a deception. "He did indeed." <br><br> Your steady tone convinces him, and he glances away. "Didn't know this was a Vice Guard thing," he mutters. He glances around as if expecting them to descend at any moment, then exhales sharply. "What do you need?" <br><br> He listens as you describe your problem to him, and at the end of your explanation, he says slowly, "Yeah, I know the place. Some kids found it something like twenty or thirty years ago, or so the stories say." He gives you a skeptical glance. "Not a nice place, nor an easy one to get to. Gonna have to wriggle around some to get through." <br><br> You heave an internal sigh. "All right. How do I get there?" <br><br> <<page_break "..." "redsearchsuccess">> <<else>> The youth snorts. "Yeah? The Thief Lord himself sent you and the red scarecrow over there, huh?" He jerks his head at Red, still talking earnestly with the young family a few doors over. His lips curl into a sneer. "You ain't got the look of one of his people. You ain't got the smell, neither. In fact, you look more like a Vice Guard than a friend of the Thief Lord to me." <br><br> He shakes his head, clicking his tongue. "Next time, try a lie that ain't so fuckin' stupid." <br><br> Before you can reply, he turns and vanishes down the nearest alley. When you turn to survey the rest of the street, you see that the old woman on her porch has also taken her cue and disappeared into her house. <br><br> <<include "redsearchfailure">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<setreputation -1>><<setcunning -5>>You're left to cool your heels as you wait for Red to finish his own attempts. He finally returns to you, his eyes bright and his grin merry. "Well," he says with the look of a man well-satisfied with his own work, "it took some finagling and some, ah, minor firework illusions to entertain the kids, but I think we've got what we came for. How did you fare?" You tell him what the scrawny youth told you, and Red pauses, absorbing the information. "Ah," he says carefully. "That's... not what I was told. My directions are very... opposite, in fact." He looks awkward as you're both silent for a moment, letting this sink in. Finally he says, "How likely was it that he gave you the wrong information and simply took off with your coin?" You drag a hand over your face. "...Very likely." Red winces, then puts a sympathetic hand on your shoulder. "I'm sorry, <<c halfname2>>. Let me pay you back, at least." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You shake your head wearily. "No, it was my mistake. At least it was only one coin."</div>' 'autogenerated_68731'>><<setred +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Nod. "That sounds good. Thanks."</div>' 'autogenerated_68732'>><<setreputation -1>><<setgold +1>><<setcharisma -1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

He heaves a sigh and gives you another encouraging shoulder squeeze, his face a bit dismayed. Still, you decide to try and put the embarrassing incident behind you, turning away to follow the instructions he received from a more trustworthy souce... but you have to admit to silently cursing the greasy-faced youth who scammed you all the while. <<include 'redsearchsuccess5'>>

<<nobr>><<notify_gold "+1 Gold">><</nobr>>Red gives you a bracing smile and a shoulder squeeze. "Of course. I dragged you along for this; you shouldn't have to pay anything for my personal pet projects." That settled, you decide to put the embarrassing incident behind you and proceed with following the instructions he received from a more trustworthy source... though you admit to silently cursing the greasy-faced youth who scammed you all the while. <<include 'redsearchsuccess5'>>

<<page_break "..." "redsearchsuccess">>

You and Red follow the directions you received, slipping down more winding alleyways, rambling culverts, and crumbling staircases until you reach what appears to be an abandoned inn tucked into an even seedier corner of the city than the one you just left. Here, even the light of day seems dimmer, bluer, as if the sun is on the verge of setting even though there's still plenty of time before nightfall. Behind the inn, you find a dry well, just as you were told there would be; and there's a fraught, uncertain moment before Red shrugs his broad shoulders and begins to climb in. You follow, immediately swallowing alarm as your own shoulders wedge up against the tight stone walls, leaving smears of dry, crumbled lichen or moss against your sleeves as you shimmy down. From there, the both of you drop to the ground, crouching low as you follow the empty waterway a few yards west. Eventually, you discover a small, child-sized door set into the side of the cistern, and Red sucks in a breath. "This must be it," he whispers, his voice reverberating strangely in confines of the close tunnel. Dusty white light still filters down from the opening of the well, casting his profile in a faint halo. "I suppose I don't need to check for wards, do I, if the locals come to and from this place as frequently as they say?" You shoot him a sardonic glance. "Are you this uncautious with all of your explorations?" He grins at you, his teeth shining white in the dark. "You start to develop a sense for these things, that's all." <<nobr>><<if $redromanceflag gte 20>>Then his warm, friendly hand reaches out to grasp yours, tangling your fingers together in a secure, affectionate grip. "Ready?" <</if>><</nobr>> Holding his breath, he shoves at the little door, its hinges giving way with a rusty, reluctant groan... <<page_break "Next" "redsearchsuccess2">>

You crawl forward on your knees and straighten up once you're through the hatch, only to find yourself in... A vast, empty room. <<page_break "Your Heart Sinks" "redsearchsuccess3">>

You try to keep your face composed and any exhalations of disappointment silent as you slowly turn on your heel to regard the chamber. Whether or not this was once Red's fabled library is patently unclear, even as your orbs of mage-light drift up towards the low, domed ceiling to engulf the place in a soft golden glow. The walls are caked by centuries of black dirt and grime; if there were ever any shelves here, they've long since collapsed and disintegrated into damp mush. You and Red wander throughout the chamber—which is about the size of a ballroom, surely something closer to a special-collections or closed-reserve library than anything open to the public—stirring piles of debris with your boots in unhopeful, desultory motions. There are no books to be found anywhere, if they were ever here at all: doubtless looters and loiterers would have made off with them long ago, once this place was rediscovered by the world above. Instead, evidence of what this chamber is used for in the modern day now litters the room. Scrawls of graffiti, little piles of charch ash, and etchings declaring new romance, old hatreds, and the names of people "always open for a lay" are scattered everywhere. There's even a filthy gray bedroll in the corner, riddled with mold and chewed by rats. Crumpled wrappers and empty bottles of wine serve to complete the picture. Exactly as Red originally described it: a hidden hangout spot for the local youths, hoodlums, and layabouts. But there are no books, and certainly no evidence of the Worldwalkers. Red rotates slowly to take in the picture, then sets his hands on his hips, the very picture of an optimistic prince surveying a newly-conquered land. "Well," he says cheerily, "at least they didn't use the place as a toilet." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You laugh, mirroring his positive attitude. "That's true. Well, at least getting here was an adventure in and of itself. I got to see a new part of Haven, at least."</div>' 'autogenerated_68733'>><<setred +1>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You turn to stare at him incredulously. "How on earth can you stay so... hopeful?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68734'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">For some reason, you can't even muster a smile. You don't know why you're so disappointed.</div>' 'autogenerated_68735'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Kick a pile of refuse sullenly. "When that's the only bright side you can come up with, that's when you know things are bleak."</div>' 'autogenerated_68736'>><<setcompassionate -1>><<setloyal -1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $redromanceflag >= 20>><<set $redromanceflag += 1>>"That's the spirit!" Red brushes his knuckles against your cheek fondly. <<else>> "That's the spirit!" Red claps your shoulder encouragingly. <</if>><</nobr>> "And besides, there's still plenty to learn, even if the books aren't here. Take a look at that architecture, for example. And the fact that this is all <i>here</i>, still intact. I bet, if we could figure out how this place was sealed off—the well probably came much later, don't you think?—someone could use the information to check if there are other similar sites around Haven." <<include 'talktoredinterlude5'>>

Red shrugs with a rueful smile. "Doesn't feel as if I have much of a choice, do I? If I allowed myself to be devastated every time a lead turned into a dead end, I'd run out of steam fairly quickly. That's the nature of this kind of work. Things like this are always a long shot. But I always feel as if I got something out of it, even when the outcome isn't what I was expecting." <<nobr>><<if $redromanceflag gte 20>>He gives your shoulder a fond squeeze. "Like getting to spend this time with you. I'm not going to get glum when I was gifted that today, am I?"<</if>><</nobr>> You can't help but smile at that. "Are you always this relentlessly good-natured?" With the world you live in, the work you do, and the things you see, it's hard to believe that his even temper and mild-mannered demeanor is genuine all the time... Red shrugs again. "I suppose I have a long fuse. Comes with the territory of being the youngest, with four frankly terrifying and emotional older sisters." He pauses for a moment, then adds, "I also never accomplished anything through weeping, I suppose, so there's that as well." "Did you ever have much cause to weep?" <<nobr>><<if $redromanceflag gte 20 and $redrelationship is "ex">>He purses his lips. "I'd probably embarrass myself if I answered that right now, so maybe another time." <<else>> "Hah. Perhaps not. There's that old saying: 'Fortune's darlings know not the taste of salt.' I've lived a fairly blessed life, compared to many, so maybe it's allowed me to grow a bulletproof sense of optimism." He glances sidelong at you. "That doesn't mean I <i>never</i> get upset, mind you. I just don't dwell on it much. It's always on to the next thing, I suppose." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'talktoredinterlude5'>>

Your spirit feels so deflated that it feels like a swallowed deflated balloon in your throat. Red catches sight of your crestfallen expression and sobers instantly, hurrying to your side. <<nobr>><<if $redromanceflag gte 20>>"Hey," he says with soft concern, gathering you into a hug. "What's wrong?"<<else>>"What's wrong?"<</if>><</nobr>> "I don't know," you begin thickly. <<nobr>><<if $redromanceflag gte 20>> At least his arms feel wonderfully strong and secure around you; it's all you can do to keep from nuzzling into his chest. <</if>><</nobr>> "I suppose it's... just sad. Not just that we didn't find what we were looking for. But that something like a library... a remnant of our ancestors... has been reduced to <i>this</i>." <<nobr>><<if $redromanceflag gte 20>>Red's hand is gentle and soothing as he strokes your hair, his voice a warm tenor buzz against your chest. <</if>><</nobr>> "I get it," he says softly. "Gods, do I get it, <<c halfname2>>. I saw it every day at Solhadur, too. It's a damn shame." He draws away from you, hands on your shoulders as he gives you an encouraging smile. "But you know what? We're still here. Magus lives on through us—we can still keep the hope alive. We still carry that torch." You give a thin smile at that, and after lingering a moment to check that you're all right, he releases you to inspect the room more closely again. <<include 'talktoredinterlude5'>>

Red gives a rueful laugh. "I suppose that's one way to look at it." <<include 'talktoredinterlude5'>>

You linger in the ruin for a long time, talking about all manner of things as you crouch over, poke at, and speculate about numerous objects around the underground chamber. Red makes you laugh at his antics as he exclaims excitedly over a splotch of reddish moss he finds, as boisterous and excited as a boy at Wintersun. You discuss history, culture, architecture, and swap some stories about your adventures and travels. You debate over the logistics of archaeological restoration, the difficulties of funding, politics. <<nobr>><<if $redromanceflag gte 20>> And as you work, you can't help but notice how he lingers by your side, almost solicitously, like a gentleman escorting his date around an art gallery; and once, when you both kneel to examine some promising chalk runes low to the ground, he slings his arm casually around your shoulder and hugs you close, unconsciously and almost with an unthinking possessiveness, filling your senses with his proximity and clean, intoxicating scent—that hint of warm masculine spice. And when he's about to draw away, leaving you to keep inspecting the runes while he goes off to check on a small alcove nearby, you almost think he absently presses a kiss against the crown of your head before he rises to his feet. But the motion is so quick, so casual in its distractedness, that you're not entirely sure if it actually happened—or if you were just hoping that it did. Your heart flutters in your chest like a trapped songbird. <</if>><</nobr>> Finally, it's time to go. Red offers you his hand, as you need to be in contact in order for him to translocate you back home—a far more convenient exit than making the long and tedious trek back on foot. <<nobr>><<if $intelligence gte 65 and ($magic gte 65 or $arcane gte 40 or ($specialization is "binder" and $arcane gte 30))>> <<setintelligence +1>><<setarcane +5>><<setmagic +1>> <<set $foundbooksred to true>> <<setred +5>> <br><br> But then—just as your hands connect—a spark of something leaps between the two of you, and an ethereal little tinkling, like the ringing of a ghostly chime, sounds in your ear. <br><br> You both gasp. From the expression on Red's face, you know he felt it, too. "Was that—?" <br><br> You're already turning away to inspect the room again. "It was," you confirm. <i>Magic. </i> <br><br> You spend the next few moments scouring walls and corners you'd thought you thoroughly mapped, but it only takes you another minute to find the glimmer of a spell in a small recess, a depression in the wall that you'd assumed must have once held a decorative vase or bust or plant. However, now you can faintly perceive a glittering veil rippling over the alcove, as if someone had draped a sparkling, gauzy veil over a doorway. <br><br> "Well done," Red breathes. "This... was definitely not here before." <br><br> "No, it wasn't. What do you think activated it?" <br><br> He squints at the spell, which stirs at both your breaths, tattered and worn thin by time but still intact. "This is clearly Binding magic—in other words, arcane magic. And I was calling up arcane magic to get ready to translocate. When we touched, and my magic brushed against yours in preparation..." <br><br> "It might have created a resonance," you finish. "Like when you drop a stone into a lake, and the ripples disturb the surface of the water, making it easier to see certain things." <br><br> "Though the other side of the resonant bridge had to be powerful enough to create such a strong ripple," Red points out with a grin. "I suppose it'd be more like striking a flint against steel. If neither element is sharp or suitable enough, it won't produce a bright enough spark to illuminate things. In other words, I don't think anything would have happened if I'd bounced my magic against a less adept Mage, or a non-Mage. Or come alone, for that matter." <br><br> You shake your head at the serendipity of it all. If he hadn't happened to be a Traveler about to call up a translocation, if you hadn't chosen to accompany him, if you hadn't been strong or perceptive or compatible enough to achieve magical resonance... <br><br> Red meets your eyes, and you can tell he's thinking along the same tract. Doesn't this all have a certain tinge of fate? <br><br> Although you've both tried to stay calm and composed up until now, you can tell the air between you is rippling with sudden excitement. "Well," you say slowly, "shall we?" <br><br> Red only nods. <br><br> You lift your hand and, with a delicate, precise sense of control, use your magic to carefully peel the spell away from the wall it's clinging to, like removing a spiderweb while trying not to shred it to pieces. You feel the slightest resistance, like the tension of a soap bubble... <br><br> And then the wall in front of you vanishes entirely. <br><br> <<page_break "Next" "talktoredinterlude52">> <<else>> <br><br> <<set $redstatus to "He recently dragged you along on one of his expeditions, although it didn't turn up anything new.">> He meets your eyes just as you grasp his palm. There's something wry and knowing in his gaze, acknowledging the inherent disappointment of leaving empty-handed, but also an unapologetic appreciation for having had this experience with you. <br><br> <<if $redromanceflag gte 15>>For some reason, you feel a little clutch in your chest at that, even as the familiar sickening lurch of the translocation begins to take hold. <<else>>For some reason, you can't help but smile back, even as the familiar sickening lurch of the translocation begins to take hold. <</if>> <i>We need hope like his, in these times, </i> you think. <i>I wonder if he has any inkling of that? That importance?</i> <br><br> <i>Probably not, the way he goes careening around these ruins. </i> <br><br> That's all you have time to think before you feel yourself begin to make the zag home, Red's hand strong and secure in yours. You feel a heavy drag against you as you go, the weight of the air in the ruin seeming to crowd close—like clutching hands anxious to let you go. <br><br> <<include "redover">> <</if>><</nobr>>

You and Red both take in a long breath, staring at the empty doorway that now stands before you, plain and stark as day. Red glances at you sidelong, then says, "Better to let me go first. You never know what kind of booby-traps these people like to set up..." You give a kind of warning hiss as he forges past you with his mage-orb glowing, but nothing happens as he pokes his head in through the door: beyond the threshold is only a small room, about the size of a standard study or office. Rather than a single desk, though, there are a few worktables pushed up against the walls, as well as rows and rows of perfectly preserved shelves—all of them lined with thick books! Red makes a strangled sound of surprise and glee, charging headlong into the room, and once you've verified that the books are actually intact and legible, <<nobr>><<if $redromanceflag gte 20>> he turns to grab you in a fierce hug, the two of you bouncing up and down and practically cackling together in sheer triumph. Brimming with pleased laughter, Red holds you close, grinning as he cups your cheek fondly and you look up into his face, breathless with exhiliration. "I knew it," he murmurs, his green eyes sparkling down at you. "I <i>knew</i> it." <br><br> You can't help grinning back at him. "You did not. What was all that about not getting your hopes up or expecting anything?" <br><br> "All right, fine, I didn't <i>know</i> it, but I did know coming together with you was the best idea I've had in a while." He's still smiling, but his mood changes a little, his thumb thoughtfully drifting across your cheek and making you shiver a little. "Couldn't have done it without you, <<c firstname>>." <br><br> Subtly but surely, the atmosphere changes between the two of you, taut with a more considering tension, fizzing expectantly in a pleasant way that you've come to associate with Red. His eyes darken as they drop to your lips. "I..." <br><br> Your heart is banging up against your chest like a hammer against a hollow drum. <i>You...?</i> <br><br> Then, reluctantly, he releases you and eases back, looking ruefully around the room. He suddenly seems painfully and abruptly aware that you're surrounded by filth, grime, mold, and refuse. "I'm going to take you somewhere nicer than this next time," he finishes, his tone light. But there's something resolute in it, privately determined. Then he smiles at you again. "It's the least you deserve." <br><br> <i>For helping him find this, or just in general?</i> You swallow and manage to nod. "Sounds good." <<elseif $red gte 70 and $compassionate gte 60>> <<set $redstatus to "You recently helped him on one of his research expeditions. The experience brought you closer together.">> he turns to grab you in a fierce hug. "We did it! I knew something would be here—I <i>knew</i> it." <br><br> You can't help grinning back at him. "You did not. What was all that about not getting your hopes up or expecting anything?" <br><br> "All right, fine, I didn't <i>know</i> it, but I did know coming together with you was the best idea I've had in a while." He gives you a bright grin and a friendly shake of the shoulder. <<else>> <<set $redstatus to "You recently helped him on one of his research expeditions. The experience brought you closer together.">> he gives a silly whoop, actually jumping in the air and clicking his heels together. "I knew it! I <i>knew</i> it!" <br><br> You can't help grinning back at him. "You did not. What was all that about not getting your hopes up or expecting anything?" <br><br> "All right, fine, I didn't <i>know</i> it, but I did know coming together with you was the best idea I've had in a while." He gives you a bright grin and a friendly shake of the shoulder. <</if>><</nobr>> <<page_break "Next" "talkredinterlude53">>

You spend the rest of your time cataloging the contents of the room. It quickly becomes clear that this was once an employees-only section of the library, a backroom area to store restricted materials, detailed records, ledgers, correspondence between librarians, and tomes in the process of being restored or preserved. So while it seems the books in the main library have been taken away somewhere and ransacked, this hidden nook has stood here all this time, waiting to be uncovered... "Why do you think they concealed it with magic the way they did?" you ask Red as you leaf eagerly through a historical text about the construction of other similar libraries. So far, you haven't seen anything that you couldn't find in Archmage Tangriel's own archives back at the Tower, but just the fact that anything's here <i>at all</i> makes the moment feel precious and blessed. Red's more interested in delving through the librarians' records of restricted books, and who exactly checked them out—though so far he hasn't seen anything alluding to the Worldwalkers. "Could have been a lot of reasons," he returns absently as he hunches over his orb of light, squinting in order to read his book's cramped handwriting. "Could have been standard procedure, like having two bank-tellers keep separate keys around their necks, and needing both in order to unlock a vault. A simple security measure, but it could have prevented from anyone entering this section unsupervised: you'd always need at least one other person to enter, which could have helped prevent unauthorized misuse or tampering. Or perhaps someone hastily threw that ward together during the Castigation, when the Norm soldiers were invading the city and breaking down doors. They couldn't hide the entire library, but perhaps concealing this section until other Mages could uncover it again... It might have been a hasty gamble." He makes a humming sound as he brings the book up to within an inch of his nose. "The old magics still don't make much sense to me, even after all these years." You snort. "Given your current field of interest, that doesn't inspire much confidence..." His eyes crinkle as he glances amusedly over at you. "Who needs confidence when I've got you—my very own good luck talisman? Judging by today's results, all I need to do is bring you along every time I think I'm about to discover something exciting." You laugh. "Let's take stock and see if we've found anything actually noteworthy before you start making any shrine offerings to me." "That's a deal." But he casts you a glowing look from across the room anyway. Warmed by his regard—and drawn indelibly into his goals, his irresistible visions for the future—you turn and join him in getting to work. <<include "redover">>

<<page_break "..." "redsearchfailure2">>

You're left to cool your heels as you wait for Red to finish his own attempts. He finally returns to you, his eyes bright and his grin merry. "Well," he says with the look of a man well-satisfied with his own work, "it took some finagling and some, ah, minor firework illusions to entertain the kids, but I think we've got what we came for. How did you fare?" You shake your head. "Not nearly so well as you." He squeezes your shoulder encouragingly. "No matter. At least we've got something to go off of, right? Let's keep going." <<page_break "..." "redsearchsuccess">>

<<nobr>><<if $capradayoff is true>> <<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "dayoff42">><<set $redtime += 1>><</link>> <<else>> <<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "dayoff">><<set $redtime += 1>><</link>> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<audio ":playing" fadeoverto 5 0>> <<if $rieltime is 0 and $part lt 8>> <<include "rielinterlude1">> <<elseif $rieltime is 1 and $part lt 8>> <<include "rielinterlude2">> <<elseif $rieltime is 2>> <<include "rielinterlude3">> <<elseif ($rieltime is 0 and $part gte 8) or ($rieltime is 1 and $part gte 8)>> Unfortunately, it seems you've missed the opportunity to spend time with this character. <br><br> <<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "dayoff">><<set $dayoff -= 1>><</link>> <<else>> [Sorry, this section is INCOMPLETE.] <br><br> <<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "dayoff">><<set $dayoff -= 1>><</link>> <</if>>

<<setriel +3>>You head to the west wing of the compound and find Aerin peering into Riel's new office, squawking indignantly as he sits at his desk and dumps a slew of papers into a wastebasket. "Oh, <<c rank>> <<c surname>>," she says breathlessly, turning to you with the color high in her face. "Good. You're of equal rank to him, at least in the Shepherds. Maybe you can talk some sense into him." "I delight in sense," Riel answers calmly as his assistant storms off in a huff, "and in fact I overflow with so much of it that I doubt any additional amount can be talked into me." You sidle into his office just as the guildmaster gathers more papers and looks up at you. "Ah, <<c firstname>>," he says, exactly as if he'd been expecting you. "Good. I've been meaning to talk to you." He is impeccably and laconically-dressed as ever, like a vicar on the day of an important mass, or like a mourner. He sits slim and sharp-looking behind his massive desk, which you've heard he had imported from the West; Blade complained that he requisitioned three Shepherd recruits to install it in this office, but you know the commander would have never allowed such liberties if Riel wasn't already proving his worth to the Order—and then some. According to all the others, Riel has been vital in totally overhauling the Shepherds' finances and bureaucratic system. Missions and supply requisitions run much more smoothly now. You've even heard one new recruit mistakenly calling him the vice-commander; that's how much time he's spent organizing things here. You find yourself sitting across from him, like a pupil in front of a principal, just as Riel waves a hand at the door and it swings shut on its own. You raise your brows at the motion. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Are you actually a Mage, and I never knew?"</div>' 'rielmageresponse'>><<setriel +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Will you be talking to me about what you've done to upset your assistant so?"</div>' 'rieltalkresponse'>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I see you're making yourself comfortable."</div>' 'rielcomfortresponse'>><<setriel +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"What do you want to talk to me about?"</div>' 'rielbusinessdiscussion'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"It would be my dearest wish," Riel answers with a thin smile. There's something slightly <i>vampiric</i> about that smile—as if he might sprout fangs at any minute. The picture is completed by his pale skin, bleached by long hours of working indoors. You hadn't noticed how downright villainous he could look when he smiled. "But alas, no: it's a spirit of the wind. It seems Archmage Tangriel used it to open doors for him—somewhat like a butler. It was happy to be given something to do." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I've never heard of a non-Mage controlling a spirit before."</div>' 'rielspiritcontrol'>><<setriel +1>><</link>> <<if ($arcane gte 35 or $intelligence gte 40)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Spirits typically require bargains to work for someone. What did you offer it?"</div>' 'rielspiritbargain'>><<setriel +3>><<setintelligence +3>><<setcunning +3>><<setarcane +1>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($arcane lt 35 and $intelligence lt 40)>><div class="inactive-item">"Spirits typically require bargains to work for someone. What did you offer it?"</div><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Ha, ha. That's funny. A Norm wanting to be a Mage..." <b>[AGGRESSIVE]</b></div>' 'rielmagereaction'>><<setcharisma -5>><<setriel -5>><<setcourage +5>><<setcompassionate -3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Why don't you put it to work doing something more useful?"</div>' 'rielusefulspirit'>><<setcunning +1>><<setriel +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Why don't you free the poor thing?"</div>' 'rielfreespirit'>><<setriel -2>><<setcompassionate +3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"You will find," Riel says, with something like gentle condescension in his voice, "that what I lack in magical power and battle prowess, I make up for in ruthless strength of will. An old friend used to say I could make metal bend, if I was given an interrogation room and long enough to talk at it. And you can make most any thinking creature on this earth do what you ask... with the right motivation." "Or with the right fear," you answer dryly. <<nobr>><<if $shepherdsconscript is true>> You remember how you would have been executed, if you hadn't joined the Shepherds. <</if>><</nobr>> "Fear is a wonderful motivation," Riel answers brightly. Then he sets his papers down, the smile gone and a brisk expression in its place. "Now, then. To business." <<include "rielbusinessdiscussion">>

<<nobr>><<if $gender is "male">><<set $rielromanceflag += 1>><</if>>Riel smiles slightly. <<if recall ("achieve_vartageth")>> "Trade secret," he says, tapping the side of his nose. "I can't just give them away." <<else>> "I offered to look into what happened to its old master. It seems like many of the spirits in this old tower are desperate to know, not least because he—or one of his descendants—are the only ones who hold true sway over them. Only Tangriel could dismiss them back to the Spirit Realm: we could try, but it would take months or even years to try and break contracts ironclad enough to keep them here after his death." He pauses. "The spirits cooperate with us because we have earned their respect, and they have been without purpose for several hundred years. They help us, serve us, and I believe these old halls being filled with life and true intention pleases them. But should Tangriel ever return in some form, I expect they would burn this place to the ground if he willed it." <br><br> The ominous note hangs in the air for a moment as you both stare at each other. <</if>><</nobr>> Then he shakes his head, smiling ruefully. "Never mind, anyway. We have business to attend to." <<include "rielbusinessdiscussion">>

Riel arches a brow. "I assure you, I don't speak in jest." You fold your arms. "I'm saying that it's quite a privilege, for you to wish to be one of us. Your kind, after all, persecute my kind. You have the luxury of wishing to be a Mage. Meanwhile, Mages everywhere fervently wish to be like <i>you</i>. Powerful, respected, and left alone by the Autarchy." "Yes, I am aware of the injustices our government performs every day," Riel says crisply, not batting an eye at your sudden tirade against him. "<i>Acutely</i> aware, for while I'm not singled out for possessing magic, I am..." He shakes his head abruptly. "No, never mind. Forgive me if I've caused offense. I only mean to say..." He pauses, watches you, and then shrugs. "I have few redeeming qualities," he says finally. "The foremost are my intelligence and my willpower. Both very handy in Mages... but when it comes to me—" He lifts his hands, showing you his slender fingers, the frail wrists. "I am not powerful. Not physically. Money is the only way I can pretend at having influence, authority. But if I had magic..." He shrugs again. "None of that would matter. My physical frailty wouldn't matter. My form would fit my inner life, so to speak. I wouldn't be so... limited. That's all I mean to say." You're not sure what to say to that, so you fold your arms in silence and continue staring at him. Riel turns back to his papers and says lightly, "Well, you haven't left, so I suppose we ought to get right to business." <<include "rielbusinessdiscussion">>

"I find it very useful," Riel says, his voice slightly mocking. "It's a dratted waste of time for me, getting up to close the door over and over again. Besides, there is a plethora of other spirits haunting this place who are available for other work. I rather think that gargoyle in the atrium could be put to work pondering mathematical problems in between detecting threats. Think of the theorems we could solve. Alas, Commander Blade disagrees." <<include "rielbusinessdiscussion">>

Riel arches a brow. "It didn't want to be dismissed," he answers dryly. "It seems that returning to its realm runs the risk of its personality—its memories—dissipating back into the mass from which it came. It indicated that it would prefer to stay here, so I granted that request." You blink. "Oh." Riel shrugs. "I am also not a Mage, so I do not believe I have the power to send it away from this world. But if you wish to, by all means. You'll have to find me someone else to close my door, though. Dratted waste of time, getting up again and again." <<include "rielbusinessdiscussion">>

"In a moment," Riel says in a tone that brooks no argument. "It's not important. I have something more necessary, and likely more interesting, to discuss." <<include "rielbusinessdiscussion">>

"Yes," Riel answers blithely, glancing around at the sumptuous office, with its already cluttered (but neat) ceiling-high bookshelves and the trim settee by the window, overlooking the street outside. "I thought that if I would be spending this much time here, I ought to have my own furnishings." "And why <i>are</i> you spending so much time here?" you ask, curious despite yourself. "Doesn't it interfere with your guild business?" "I am an excellent multi-tasker," Riel answers dryly, smirking slightly. It is an arrogant, devastating look, slightly vampiric in appearance—as if he might languidly sprout fangs at any moment. "And Merchants Guild business rarely requires me to be on-site. Such is the role of a guildmaster who might need to be away on business frequently—the position is practically built around absentee leaders. Aerin brings my work here, and I hold meetings on the Guild campus a few times a month, generally weekends. Other than that, I have no issues conducting my business from here." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Let the matter drop. "What did you want to talk to me about?"</div>' 'rielbusinessdiscussion'>><<setriel -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"But why? Why put in all this time and effort?"</div>' 'rielexplanation'>><<setriel +3>><<setintelligence +3>><<setcunning +3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $gender is "male">><<set $rielromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</nobr>> Riel sobers for a moment, staring at you as if assessing you from across a chessboard you didn't realize was lying between you. A long moment passes—he seems pensive, almost grave, as if considering whether to reveal state secrets. For some reason, your heart picks up, nervous. Why does he look as if he's about to deliver bad news? <<nobr>><<if $cunning gte 40 or $compassionate lte 45 or $loyal lte 40>> What if he really is a spy for the merchants, or for the government, as some of the crueler and more ignorant neighborhood locals whisper? <</if>><</nobr>> Finally Riel says: "Thieves Guild is fundamentally different from Merchants Guild, or any other guild in Haven. I do not say this out of personal ire or bias: Master Trinaes—<i>Chase</i>—and I have agreed to set aside our grudges for as long as we both remain with the Shepherds." His mouth thins, and you can't tell if he's grimacing or smiling: a common expression in people who deal frequently with Chase. "The business of Merchants Guild is constant and ever-turning; so it is with the Bards Guild, the Mercenaries Guild, all the others. Guilds oversee the trade or craft in their area; working with the government, they set necessary controls and conditions on those plying their trade, and only those who have joined the guild are allowed to sell their goods or practice their skills within the city." "The Thieves Guild fits this description to a tee—including paying bribes to the Vice Guard to allow them to operate within Haven, and to eliminate any competition that doesn't belong to or comply with their group." He shrugs elegantly. "But the key difference is this: whereas my guild and any other is a... collection, an assemblage of independent contractors and members... Thieves Guild is a gang. A ragtag group of thieves who banded together under one banner and tried to make that banner sound legitimate. Do you understand what I'm saying? The Thieves Guild is, first and foremost, a family who are protect and look out for each other, when no one else in the cold and callous world will. They resort to thieving to survive, because that's what they're good at. But they are more Chase's Personal Army than they are a true guild." <<page_break "Next" "rielexplanation2">>

He shakes his head. "I do not say this to disparage Chase or his people. What I mean to say is that they follow his lead without question; and, given a steady salary and a roof over their heads, they now have little need to steal. Chase picks and chooses their jobs, but ultimately, what is the point in continuing them? The Shepherds give them food, companionship, and safety from the persecution of the Vice Guard. They have needed or wanted nothing more since their inception. I suspect that, if Chase wills it, the majority of the Thieves Guild will convert to the Shepherds' spy division permanently; and the 'guild of thieves' shall exist no longer except in name and memory." He taps his finger on his desk. "This is not the case for me and my guild. I have sole control over who joins and is expelled from the guild, that is true; and I am in control of the guild's general policies. If I declare that Merchants Guild is now affiliated with the Order of the Shepherds, that is true. If I state that all merchants within the guild—and thus, all merchants in the city—must sell to and even offer discounts to Shepherd officers, they must comply. But... my power ends there. I cannot force them to join your ranks; I cannot stop them from spitting at you even as they hand over your goods, cannot enforce whether they sell you the expired dregs from the back of the store. My authority in this sense has its limits." It looks like the admission pains him, but he continues after a moment: "This is my only valuable contribution, aside from setting favorable policies in the Merchants Guild. My time and energy—these are the only things I can give. Besides gold, and I have given plenty of that, too. Still, it never quite feels like enough." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"It <i>is</i> enough. We all appreciate you being here, doing what you're doing."</div>' 'rielappreciation'>><<setriel +3>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I appreciate the sentiment, but you don't need to work yourself to the bone, either."</div>' 'rielworkinghard'>><<setcompassionate +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"But why are you so adamant about giving us anything? It's not like we're giving you anything back."</div>' 'rielgivingback'>><<setcunning +1>><<setriel +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You talk a lot, huh?"</div>' 'rieltalkative'>><<setriel -10>><<setcharisma -5>><<setcourage +4>><<set $rielromanceflag to 0>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $gender is "male">><<set $rielromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</nobr>> Riel smiles slightly, and this is a more gentle, genuine expression. "Thank you," he says quietly. "I appreciate your encouragements. But..." He looks away. <<include "rielexplanation3">>

<<nobr>><<if $rielromanceflag gte 4>> <<set $rielromanceflag += 1>> <<set $riel += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> Riel makes a sonorous sound. "I appreciate your concern, but I assure you, I <i>am not working myself to the bone</i>. If I thought that organizing the hell of a system this Order's developed would take more than the average workweek, I'd demand more of a reward." Then he looks away. <<include "rielexplanation3">>

<<nobr>><<if $gender is "male">><<set $rielromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</nobr>> As far as you know, he's refused to be paid a Shepherd salary, and you can't imagine what else you could be offering to one of the richest men in Haven. Riel smiles slightly, and the expression is a bit more gentle, a bit more genuine. "On the contrary," he says, inclining his head in an amused way. "I'm learning enough here that I could write and sell at least five books in the future." Then he looks away, smile fading. <<include "rielexplanation3">>

Riel's lips twitch. "I do. I hope I am not boring you." You pretend to check your timepiece. "I'll give you a bit longer to find your point." He inclines his head. "I'm honored." Then he looks away. <<include "rielexplanation3">>

"My point is, I've always craved power. When I was younger, it was for the wrong reasons. Now—" The corner of his mouth curls. "But to have enough power in this world—the power to build your name, to make a lasting difference, to make your <i>mark</i> and do good and be remembered for it—there are only three ways to attain that power. To have the kind of status and influence to really make a change in this world." He lifts his fingers to illustrate his points. "The first is being born with status. The other is having magic, or the Gift, or the supernatural means to earn the attention of the public." He nods at you. "The last is with money. That's why I became the leader of Merchants Guild; it's why I even strive to be wealthy. To have the power to..." "To make a difference," you finish for him. "To do good and incite change and have your name remembered forever. Right?" Riel smiles ruefully and nods. "So. I craved the power, the influence, to achieve those goals. I became Merchants Guild's leader and accrued wealth in pursuit of that aim. But..." He looks away. "Now, I find I have a way to make that difference... here. With the Shepherds. That's why I'm working so hard for the cause, giving up so much of my time and energy. It's my way of contributing, of doing something worthwhile <i>without</i> striving for some shifting goalpost where I'm finally wealthy <i>enough</i>." He smiles at you. "Money, in my circles, is never enough. Not to achieve what I want. But here... here, I don't need it. I can create the change I want to see simply by... being myself. And I find I'm becoming quite... addicted to the feeling." <<page_break "Next" "rielexplanation4">>

"Do you think you would ever join full-time, then?" you ask him. "Like you think Chase might? If being with the Shepherds fulfills this need for you, without considering your wealth, why do you need to pursue wealth any longer? Why stay on with the Merchants Guild?" Riel thinks on it for a few moments. "I'm not sure if I will ever join full-time," he says after a moment. He looks pained, admitting any kind of uncertainty; he seems to operate strictly by predicting the consequences of every move he makes, a hundred steps ahead of everyone else. "Along with the part of myself that longs to do more, to do better, there is also a part of me that is... greedy. The part that believes I can do it all. Double the fulfillment, double the power. Do good <i>and</i> make money on the side." Then he shrugs. "I am... seeing how things go. It's very possible that, past the setup stage and growing pains, the Shepherds simply won't have a need for me anymore. My skills and plans are valuable now; but when all is said and done, I cannot fight, and there are limits to how far bureaucratic help and administration can go." He smiles at you, but it seems like there's a trace of bitterness to it now. "One day, you might have no need of me, and I won't brook pity. Then I will return to my guild and support the Shepherds again only with gold. There is, at least, always a need for that." <<page_break "Next" "rielbusinessdiscussionpre">>

Finally, he shakes his head and turns back to his sheaf of papers. "I apologize for rambling—I rarely ever indulge in it. Let's proceed to business." <<include "rielbusinessdiscussion">>

<<nobr>><<set $bio to false, $rieltalk to false>><</nobr>> He shuffles his papers together. "You might have heard this, but I am in the process of writing a kind of... biography of the Shepherds. A chronicle of their—our—deeds and stories. One day, perhaps decades from now, information on how this Order was formed and its early days might prove crucial to future scholars." He dips an elegant quill into a pristine bottle of dark blue ink, drawing out a sheet of heavy parchment. "I've already interviewed the Commander—who said very little, and glared at me as if I were prying out his teeth—and Tallys, and Trouble, who is prone to embellishment, and Shery, who kept interrupting herself to ask if I had a want for any more tea. Now I'd like to see if you would be willing to contribute your thoughts, as well." You blink. A biography of the Shepherds? "What would you need me to do?" <<nobr>><<if $punishebertmore is true>> "Only recount, in your own words, the major events starting from your birth that led you to the Shepherds," Riel says, pointing his quill at you, like a teacher with a slow student. "I'd like to record every detail you can remember, for my records. It should only take an hour, perhaps a few more later for follow-up questions." <br><br> Immediately, you feel yourself tense. <i>Every major detail since your birth?</i> <br><br> Riel is not trying to be intrusive, you know. But your head flashes with the sudden bright memory of Zori shrieking <i>Happy birthday!</i>—and then your stomach turns. <br><br> Riel looks faintly surprised at the look on your face; he immediately pushes a handkerchief and a bowl of wrapped toffees towards you, as if you might have something contagious. "<<c firstname>>? Are you all right?" <br><br> You remember, too, that you owe Riel a favor—you promised him you'd indulge him in near anything after he dealt with Ebert on your behalf. But is this too much, even for that? <<if $shepherdsknow is true>> But the Shepherds—including Riel—already know about the gist of what happened. You told them the night you had those nightmares, so what does it matter if you have to do it a second time? The worst is already done. But then why does he want to go over it all again in the first place? <</if>> <<include "biography">> <<else>> "At the moment," Riel begins, "I'd simply like you to recount what occurred with Black Sun, in your own words. Spare no detail." He leans back in his large, leather-backed chair. "It may take an hour, and in the future, I may query you about other events, other memories. But that's all you need to do today." <br><br> You arch a brow. "Why do you need to ask me what happened with Black Sun? You were there for most of it." <br><br> "Understanding historical events from multiple angles, multiple perspectives, is vital to a historian's task," Riel says. Then he smiles slightly. "I want to record everyone's memories for posterity. And it's always interesting to see how they differ from one another—you should hear what details Blade was focusing on when we were talking, or how Trouble has perfect recall of people's positions in a room, but not what anyone said word-for-word." <br><br> You wonder what Riel will find in your own retelling of this story, but you decide it's not a huge imposition, especially if the others have already done it. "Okay. Let's do it, then." <br><br> Riel grins, looking slightly wicked. "Excellent. Thank you, <<c firstname>>." <br><br> <<include "report">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm not comfortable discussing every detail of my life with you. I just can't. I won't!"</div>' 'rieluncomfortable'>><<set $traumatized += 2>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I... I want to help you. I'm just not sure I can. Not right now."</div>' 'rielhelp'>><<set $traumatized += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I don't really feel like divulging all of these details, but if it will make us even, fine."</div>' 'rielagree'>><<setcunning +3>><<setcourage +1>><<setriel +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Yes, I'm fine. I was just surprised... But of course I'll help you. Ask me anything you want."</div>' 'rielfullhelp'>><<setcourage +3>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setriel +5>><</link>> <<if not hasVisited("rielalreadyasked") and ($shepherdsknow is true)>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"Haven't I already gone over this?"</div>' 'rielalreadyasked'>><</link>><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

For a brief moment, Riel looks startled—and then guilty. After a moment he says, "Of course, that's well within your rights. I apologize. I realize now that it was insensitive of me to even ask you in the first place. You won't have to tell me anything that you don't want to." An awkward silence falls over you both before Riel clears his throat. "Again, I'm sorry," he says. "If you want to leave..." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Stand. You can sense your own dismissal.</div>' 'rielexit'>><<setriel -10>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Shake your head. "I can stay, but I'll talk about other things."</div>' 'rielstaytalk'>><<setriel +3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Riel nods at you as you turn to go. "Enjoy your time off, <<c rank>>," he says, preoccupied with staring down at his papers. You think sourly, <i>Not after this</i>, but you say nothing as the door swings shut behind you, guided by a hand you can't see. <<include "rielover">>

You catch a hint of relief on Riel's face, before it smooths back into its usual alert mask. "Ah... good," he says, a tad awkwardly. "Well, then... would you like to talk about the events surrounding Black Sun, and how your heroism there saved the day? Only if you're comfortable, of course..." You feel yourself relax. "No, that would be fine." Those events are in all of the mission reports written about the subject, including some submitted by you. And Riel was there, for some of it. Easy, safe. Riel gives you an encouraging smile, softer now. "Excellent. Whenever you're ready..." <<include "report">>

Riel nods quickly. "Of course. I realize now that it was insensitive of me to ask in the first place. I'm sorry." He flips through his notes for a moment, though you suspect it's simply a motion to keep you from feeling too awkward. Then he looks up and arches a brow at you, as if nothing had happened. "What about discussing the events of Black Sun, and how that matter was resolved? Would that be uncomfortable for you?" You relax. "No, that would be fine." Those events are in all of the mission reports written about the subject, including some submitted by you. Easy, safe. Riel gives you an encouraging smile, softer now. "Excellent." <<include "report">>

<<nobr>><<if $gender is "male">><<set $rielromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</nobr>>He arches his brow at you. "Are you sure?" You nod. "Let's just get it over with." Riel nods in turn. "Very well. If you feel comfortable enough with it to proceed, I won't object. But if at any point you'd like to stop, tell me at once." You grimace. "Fine." <<include "bio">>

<<nobr>><<if $gender is "male">><<set $rielromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</nobr>>He smiles at you, softer, kinder somehow—but his eyes light up with eager anticipation. "Excellent. If you feel comfortable with it, I won't object. But if at any point you'd like me to stop, tell me at once." You nod. "Sounds good." He turns to his papers with a flourish of his quill. "Then let's begin." <<include "bio">>

<<nobr>><<set $rieltalk to true>><</nobr>>For a moment, surprise registers on Riel's face before vanishing behind the usual alert and serious mask. "I am sorry," he says after a moment. "Sometimes, I get so excited by my work, so immersed—I tend to view things very clinically. Emotion doesn't factor into it. It can make me extremely... insensitive. Obtuse. More than one merchant has claimed I was a psychopath." He waves a hand. "All this to say—forgive me for my lapse. I did not consider that discussing your past would also dredge up... that. I am sorry." <<include "biography">>

<<page_break "Next" "biostory">>

You spend the better part of an hour talking. Riel asks you simple, prompting questions, and you do your best to give a glossed-over version of your life events. All the while, the office is filled with the sound of his quill's rapid scratching and scribbling against his paper; Riel mentions that he's devised his own method of shorthand to record stories as quickly as possible, in perfect verbatim. As a bonus, he notes dryly, no one can read his coded writing except for him. Privacy means a lot when you have people like Chase <<nobr>><<if $cainejoin is true>> and Caine poking around. <<elseif $aylajoin is true>> and Ayla poking around. <<else>> and Trouble poking around. <</if>><</nobr>> "Not to mention spies," he adds, as if this were a normal concern to worry about. All in all, it's not the grueling experience you imagined it to be. Riel takes down everything you say with calm, clinical impersonality: he doesn't look pityingly at you, he doesn't become emotional. It's almost as if you were talking to... a machine, one that only had a function, a job, and lacked any emotions to assign to that job. For some reason, you find that it's difficult to lie to him. <<page_break "Next" "bioend">>

Eventually, your mouth grows parched, and you begin to trail off as you reach the events of Black Sun and meeting Riel. Riel nods as he writes, and something seems to signal that the session is over; he slides you a glass of water from his credenza, nudging a dish of candy to go along with it as he continues scribbling. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Take the chocolate deucalion.</div>' 'rieltalk1'>><<setriel +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Take the peach jelly confection.</div>' 'rieltalk1'>><<setriel +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Take the salted creme caramel.</div>' 'rieltalk1'>><<setriel +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Take the rainbow-colored star pieces.</div>' 'rieltalk1'>><<setriel +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Take the rosewater marzipan.</div>' 'rieltalk1'>><<setriel +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Decline and wait for Riel to finish writing.</div>' 'rieltalk1'>><<setcompassionate -1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<page_break "Next" "reportstory">>

You spend the better part of the hour talking. Riel asks you simple, prompting questions, and you do your best to give a detailed recounting of that mission. All the while, the office is filled with the sound of his quill's rapid scratching and scribbling against his paper; Riel mentions that he's devised his own method of shorthand to record stories as quickly as possible, in perfect verbatim. As a bonus, he notes dryly, no one can read his coded writing except for him. Privacy means a lot when you have people like Chase <<nobr>><<if $cainejoin is true>> and Caine poking around. <<elseif $aylajoin is true>> and Ayla poking around. <<else>> and Trouble poking around. <</if>><</nobr>> "Not to mention spies," he adds, as if this were a normal concern to worry about. All in all, it's quite a calming, cathartic experience. Riel is, as ever, sharp as a tack and a good conversationalist, able to ask intelligent questions without sounding abrupt or invasive. Most interestingly, he doesn't become emotional: he records everything you say with a calm, clinical dispassion, still pleasant, but as if he were a machine simply performing a function, a task, without assigning any personal feelings or attachments to it. It's quite a thing to see. <<page_break "Next" "reportend">>

Eventually, your mouth grows parched, and you begin to trail off as you reach the aftermath of the mission. Riel nods as he writes, and something seems to signal that the session is over; he slides you a glass of water from his credenza, nudging a dish of candy to go along with it as he continues scribbling. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Take the chocolate deucalion.</div>' 'rieltalk1'>><<setriel +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Take the peach jelly confection.</div>' 'rieltalk1'>><<setriel +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Take the salted creme caramel.</div>' 'rieltalk1'>><<setriel +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Take the rainbow-colored star pieces.</div>' 'rieltalk1'>><<setriel +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Take the rosewater marzipan.</div>' 'rieltalk1'>><<setriel +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Decline and wait for Riel to finish writing.</div>' 'rieltalk1'>><<setcompassionate -1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<set $rieltalking to 0>><</nobr>>Riel continues writing furiously. You can pass the time making conversation with him as he works—at least until he finishes—or you can sit idly and wait. <<include "rieltalk15">>

<<nobr>><<if $rieltalking gte 3>> <<include "rieltalkdone">> <<else>> <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("rielbiographyconversation")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Why are you writing a biography, anyway? Businessmen typically aren't writers."</div>' 'rielbiographyconversation'>><<set $rieltalking += 1>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("rielinterviewconversation")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"So you're interviewing everybody in the Shepherds?"</div>' 'rielinterviewconversation'>><<set $rieltalking += 1>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("rielbiographyrelease")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"So when is this biography coming out?"</div>' 'rielbiographyrelease'>><<set $rieltalking += 1>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("rielrecordingdevice")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Don't you think this would be so much easier with some kind of recording device?"</div>' 'rielrecordingdevice'>><<set $rieltalking += 1>><<setriel +3>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Sit in calm, meditative silence.</div>' 'rieltalkdone'>><<setintelligence -1>><<setcharisma -1>><<setriel +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <</if>><</nobr>>

Riel looks vaguely affronted, even as he continues scribbling. "I'll have you know I have a wide range of interests," he says indignantly. "I am a student of history as much as I am a businessman. How would you feel if someone was surprised that your life didn't solely consist of Endarkened-killing?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"All right, that's true." You have a wide range of hobbies and interests, too.</div>' 'rielhobbies'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">...</div>' 'rielsilent'>><</link>> <<if ($cunning gte 40)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">You're unfazed by his smokescreen. There's something more here. "Be honest, though. What's the <i>real</i> reason you're doing this?"</div>' 'rielrealreason'>><<setriel +4>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($cunning lt 40)>><div class="inactive-item">You're unfazed by his smokescreen. There's something more here. "Be honest, though. What's the <i>real</i> reason you're doing this?"</div><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

Riel nods without looking up from his paper: "I'm aware," is all he says, very mysteriously. Then: "It doesn't hurt when people assume, though. That I'm only focused on business. Then they underestimate me, and then I have all the power." He glances at you quickly. "Not you, of course. Eh, rivals. Enemies..." He trails off and shakes his head, looking appalled at himself for some reason. <<include "rieltalk15">>

Riel glances up briefly, then blinks. "Ah. I'm sorry." You look away, chuckling nervously. "Don't be. I'm a single-minded person. Focused." He glances at the $mainweapon leaning against the side of your chair. "Indeed." <<include "rieltalk15">>

<<nobr>><<if $gender is "male">><<set $rielromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</nobr>>"It's not just a fun hobby," you state, "although that might be part of it." He stares at you for a few moments, lips twitching. "Astute, <<c firstname>>." "Thank you, I try." Riel smirks, then sets down his quill for a moment. He steeples his fingers over his desk and says, "As far as I'm aware, there are only three ways to cheat death. You must be granted godhood, be born an Elf, or... have you ever heard of Thalo De Chard?" <<nobr>><<if $intelligence gte 60>> <<set $intelligence += 1>> <<set $riel += 3>> <<if $gender is "male">><<set $rielromanceflag += 1>><</if>> <<include "rieldechardknown">> <<else>> <<include "rieldechardunknown">> <</if>><</nobr>>

You nod. "Of course." Thalo De Chard was an infamous serial killer who once stalked the streets of Rithmere, hundreds of years ago. It's said that he killed at least seventy people in his lifetime—and brutally, seemingly only out of a thirst to kill. Some said he must have had Endarkened blood, but this was never proven to be true. Eventually the Nightwatch Corps, an arcane police force consisting of Mages, captured him when he moved his criminal activities to the city of Stroud. He was slated to undergo a kind of lobotomizing procedure to strip him of both his magic and his free will, but killed himself before that sentence could come to pass. Riel nods. "Gruesome affair," he says casually. "And yet something came out of it that very few are aware of: the Mask of De Chard. Rumor has it that De Chard somehow devised a way to pour his own... emotions, or spirit, or personality, into a mask that he supposedly wore when he was stalking his victims. The mask was later stolen, and when the thief put it on, it's said the spirit of De Chard possessed him and drove him to kill once more. According to the reports, the thief knew things that only De Chard could know, laughed exactly like De Chard, killed exactly like him. One could say that a thief driven to steal a serial killer's mask must have been utterly obsessed with him already, enough to imitate the killer perfectly... but it seems we'll never know for sure. The thief threw himself onto a fire before he could be truly interrogated. The mask disappeared." <<include "rieldechardcontinue">>

You shake your head; the name doesn't ring a bell. Riel's fingers steeple further. "Thalo De Chard was an infamous serial killer who stalked the streets of Rithmere," he says. "About four hundred years ago. He has, among single killers, the highest known amount of murders: at least seventy-nine, though it was likely more. It wasn't until he moved to Stroud that he was arrested, caught by the Nightwatch Corps, a police force consisting of Mages who targeted the arcane—you could call them our spiritual predecessors, in a way." "Interesting. I never heard of them." "I believe they were stationed in all of the Mage city-states at the time, though they tended to operate independently," Riel muses. "I wonder if that will happen with the Shepherds, or if there will be more central organization..." Then he blinks. "Back to De Chard. After he was arrested, he was sentenced to be... I believe it was called Sundering." You get the idea that Riel is being delicate, in the way that only he knows how: he never speaks without knowing exactly what he's saying, so he doesn't "believe" anything. He knows. "Sundering?" "It was... a magical operation," Riel says, forging forward, his face placid. "A sanitizing, somewhat like a lobotomy. It would strip a person's magic and free will from them, and was reserved only for the most heinous criminals. Fortunately, I believe the technique has been lost to time." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"<<c god>>. Can you imagine if the Autarchy knew about it?"</div>' 'rielautarchy'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"How could Mages do that to each other?"</div>' 'rielmages'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"How did they do it? Psionic magic?"</div>' 'rielpsionic'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Not even De Chard deserved such a horrific fate."</div>' 'rieldeserved'>><<setcompassionate +3>><<setriel -1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"We would be that much worse off," Riel says, his face grave. He shifts the paper on his desk so that it lies at an exact right angle. "Anyway, this Sundering was scheduled to be De Chard's fate... but he killed himself before it could be performed." "Why did you bring him up, then?" you ask. Didn't this conversation start with cheating death? <<include "rieldechardmask">>

Riel shrugs. "Perhaps they knew better than anyone when it was necessary, and how vital it was. I can't say for sure. There aren't many discussions about it, and weren't even at the time." He shifts the paper on his desk so that it lies at an exact right angle. "Anyway, this Sundering was scheduled to be De Chard's fate... but he killed himself before it could be performed." "Why did you bring him up, then?" you ask. Didn't this conversation start with cheating death? <<include "rieldechardmask">>

Riel shakes his head. "No one knows. As I said, the method has been lost to history." He shifts the paper on his desk so that it lies at an exact right angle. "Anyway, this Sundering was scheduled to be De Chard's fate... but he killed himself before it could be performed." "Why did you bring him up, then?" you ask. Didn't this conversation start with cheating death? <<include "rieldechardmask">>

"Mm," Riel says, dispassionate. "I imagine the families of his victims felt differently." He shifts the paper on his desk so that it lies at an exact right angle. "Anyway, this Sundering was scheduled to be De Chard's fate... but he killed himself before it could be performed." "Why did you bring him up, then?" you ask. Didn't this conversation start with cheating death? <<include "rieldechardmask">>

Riel raises a finger. "It was a gruesome affair," he says casually. "And yet something came out of it that very few are aware of: the Mask of Thalo De Chard. Rumor has it that De Chard somehow devised a way to pour his own... emotions, or spirit, or personality, into a mask that he supposedly wore when he was stalking his victims. Some years after his death, the mask was stolen, and when the thief put it on, the spirit of De Chard possessed him and drove him to kill once more. According to the reports, when wearing the mask, the thief knew things that only De Chard could know, laughed exactly like De Chard, killed exactly like him. The arresting officer who caught De Chard was so shaken by the resemblance that xe left the force." He pauses. "One could say that a thief driven to steal a serial killer's mask must have been utterly obsessed with him already, enough to imitate the killer perfectly... but it seems we'll never know for sure. The thief threw himself onto a fire before he could be truly interrogated. The mask disappeared." <<include "rieldechardcontinue">>

He flicks a hand, as if distancing himself from the grisly story. "That," he says, "is the closest I've heard of anyone cheating death. A way to linger on this earth even after your mortal body has been destroyed... a living memory so strong that it gives shape to you once more, even when your existence should have already ended." He shakes his head. "I will not craft a mask like Thalo De Chard did. But the best way I have of remaining on this earth, even after my untimely death..." "...is writing your memoirs," you finish, nodding. "Ensuring others remember you after your mortal body is gone. Teaching them things for all eternity, passing on what you know." Riel smiles. "Exactly. I chose a morbid analogy, but I'm glad you understand." You look at him curiously. "But why are you so preoccupied with death and being remembered?" you ask. Riel turns back to his paper. "When you're as clever as I am, you have too many things to do," he says, perfectly serious. "And never enough time to do them all. If all goes well, you will live two centuries or more, <<c rank>>. Given my dubious and fragile health, I can only aspire to make it to half that. I am acutely aware of that deadline. I mean to make the most of it and make my mark on the world while I can." "I see." Riel nods, satisfied, and begins writing again. <<include "rieltalk15">>

Riel waves a hand. "Just the key players," he murmurs. "How can you tell who's who?" Riel levels you with a flat stare. "Yes, I wonder how one could tell. I think starting with the mysterious demon-slayer, the renowned assassin-turned-peacekeeper, the genetically-augmented sniper, or the Elf who lived through the Castigation might be a start." You raise your hands. "I surrender." Riel smiles slightly and turns back to his paper. "Is my sarcasm too much?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"It takes some getting used to, but I like it."</div>' 'riellikeit'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Sometimes."</div>' 'rielhonest'>><<setcourage +1>><<setcharisma -1>><</link>> <div class="choice-item">"Definitely."</div> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I love it!"</div>' 'rielloveit'>><<setriel +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I think it's sexy." <b>[FLIRT]</b></div>' 'rielsexy'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Riel snorts to himself, never taking his eyes off his paper. "Good to hear," he drawls. You can't tell if he's being sarcastic or not. <<include "rieltalk15">>

Riel snorts, not taking his eyes off his paper. "At least you're honest," he mutters. <<include "rieltalk15">>

He snorts gently, but smiles down at his paper. "I'm glad," he drones. <<include "rieltalk15">>

<<nobr>><<if $gender is "male">><<set $rielromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</nobr>> Riel abruptly chokes on air. Bizarrely, his hand never stops scrawling. "I... I see," he mutters, looking intently down at his paper. He steadfastly doesn't look back at you as he continues to write, seemingly at a loss of words. For once. You smirk to yourself. <<include "rieltalk15">>

Riel pauses for a moment, twirling his quill in his hand as he thinks. "Not for another few years, or even several," he says finally, bending back down over the paper. "Unless something very drastic happens soon." You both pause on that thought for a moment; somewhere outside in the courtyard, you can hear a bunch of recruits shrieking. Riel meets your eyes seriously. "Anyway, I am attempting a holistic approach to my writing," he says. "Trees for the forest, and so and so." <<nobr>><<if $intelligence gte 50>> <<set $riel += 3>> <<if $gender is "male">><<set $rielromanceflag += 1>><</if>> "Like Argos Inqune," you say, remembering a contemporary historian you've read before. <br><br> Riel's eyes light up. "Yes," he says triumphantly. "<i>Exactly</i> like Inqune. Except without the grandstanding." <<include "rieltalk15">> <<else>> You're not sure what to say to that, so you let the topic pass. <<include "rieltalk15">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<setriel +3>><<setintelligence +1>><</nobr>>Riel smiles at you. "Yes. I have attempted to create my own..." "Of course you have." "...but I found that every method I attempted relied upon magic, and spell-technology. Which, while not strictly illegal, would be too much trouble to worry about concealing every time an Inquisitor passed me in the street. The closest prototype I had was actually a conch shell, and there was a spell—a spirit, really—stuffed within to memorize everything that was said to it and then charged to repeat it all back. A disaster. Ideally the magic would do something else. There are attempts in the West to develop something called an phonautograph, a device that looks rather like a horn. A person speaks into it, and the sound of their voice carries down the horn..." <<nobr>><<if $intelligence gte 60>> <<setriel +5>> <<if $gender is "male">><<set $rielromanceflag += 1>><</if>> <<include "rielphonautograph">> <<else>> <<include "rielconfused">> <</if>><</nobr>>

"...and travels down to a stylus attached to the bottom of the horn, am I right? The stylus would vibrate with the exact sound waves of the person's voice, and its vibration would cause it to etch a particular groove into the medium it's attached to—maybe wax paper or something like that. Theoretically, vibrating the stylus again should reproduce the sounds it 'recorded,'" you finish. Riel blinks at you for a moment, looking a bit owlish, before he clears his throat. <<nobr>><<if $rielromanceflag gte 5>> For some reason, he looks a bit flustered. <</if>><</nobr>> "...Yes, that's exactly it," he says after a moment. "I thought to attempt the process with my shell, but the whole model was too cumbersome..." You talk for a while longer on his methods and ideas for this recording device before he suddenly remembers himself and makes a motion that he's almost done writing. The atmosphere in the room fades to the sound of scribbling once again. <<include "rieltalk15">>

He talks on for a while without seeming to lose breath, but you can't seem to grasp the thread of what he's saying. Perhaps sensing your confusion (or just noticing your blank stare), he turns once more back to his writing. <<include "rieltalk15">>

<<nobr>><<set $gettoknowriel to false>><</nobr>> Finally, Riel looks up from his papers, swiftly clipping them together and sliding them neatly into a drawer. "Thank you for that talk, <<c firstname>>," he says crisply, flexing his fingers and wrist. And that's all he says as he stares at you expectantly. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"...So that's it?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68737'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"...Are you telling me to leave?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68738'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"...What now?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68739'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Riel blinks at you, as if to say, <i>What else is there?</i> But he manages to play the gracious host by saying, "Of course not. Feel free to stay here as long as you like." Then he just keeps staring at you. <<include 'gettoknowriel'>>

Riel blinks at you. "Of course not," he says—but his voice doesn't sound terribly convincing. "Feel free to stay here all you like. We can… talk." The way he trails off awkwardly is not heartening. <<include 'gettoknowriel'>>

Riel frowns for a moment, as if he hadn't considered this. "I… suppose we could… talk more," he says after a moment. As an afterthought, he nudges the candy bowl on his desk towards you again. <<include 'gettoknowriel'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("riellikeorder")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"So... how are you liking the Order?"</div>' 'riellikeorder'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("rielreallysmart")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Are you really as smart as they say?"</div>' 'rielreallysmart'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("riellikesdislikes")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"What are your likes and dislikes?"</div>' 'riellikesdislikes'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("rieltrade")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"What do you actually trade in as a merchant?"</div>' 'rieltrade'>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($gettoknowriel is true) and not hasVisited("rielbackground")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Tell me more about you, your background. Where are you actually from?"</div>' 'rielbackground'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">The conversation suddenly halts as Riel looks at the door.</div>' 'rielaerinletters'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Riel's lips twitch. "It's… interesting," he concedes. "I enjoy the work, and as I said, I find it fulfilling. Rewarding. Having control over the bureaucratic process of <i>two</i> organizations is gratifying. I'm even rewriting the rule book, with the help of Miss Acquell." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You might be the only person in the world who thinks doing administrative paperwork is fun."</div>' 'autogenerated_68740'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"And what about the people? How do you feel about them?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68741'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You're rewriting the rulebook?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68742'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"Perhaps." He smiles but says nothing more. <<include 'gettoknowriel'>>

"The people…" Riel looks up at the ceiling, considering it. "They're… kind. Eccentric. Very different from the people I'm used to dealing with in the course of my business. <i>Those</i> people are predictable, though some have a streak of cruelty. Not so with some Shepherds. Commander Bronwyn, in particular, and Tallys are more enigmatic. <<nobr>><<if $brionyjoin is true>>Trouble and Briony are open books.<<else>>Trouble is an open book.<</if>> <<if $redjoin is true>>I enjoy playing dreadnoughts with Red.<<elseif $lavinetjoin is true>>And I enjoy discussing politics with Lavinet.<</if>><</nobr>> Miss Shery is particularly kind; a soothing presence amidst the chaos, at times." He clears his throat at your flat look: he didn't actually say very much about his personal feelings on the others. "I don't mind being around them," he clarifies. "I… never had many friends, growing up. Only one, actually. Outside of work, I'm not strictly sociable. But being here is... tolerable. Sometimes pleasant. I look forward to my days here." It seems to be the best he can manage. Satisfied, you smile and talk a bit about other things. "What about you?" Riel asks you after a moment. "I hear you're becoming a regular fixture of this neighborhood." <<include 'rielneighborhood'>>

"Certainly," Riel answers archly. "As of right now, it's little more than two sheets of paper left on every recruit's bed, like a hotel menu. I'm sure most of them throw it away without ever reading it. And the book was written by the Commander, who is used to ironclad Ket obedience, combat-readiness, and soldierly demeanors—he is not used to having to set down rules beforehand, and so he dashed it off within a few minutes with the 'help' of Trouble, who puts down rules like 'Don't stick your fingers in the communal soup pot,' and Tallys, who wrote, 'Don't die if you can help it.' Ridiculous. We need clear guidelines and even legal language, if <i>I</i> can help it." <<include 'rielrulebook'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">That is true. You love socializing with people around Ashtown. The butcher, launderer, and bookseller down the street all know your name, and break into smiles at the sight of you.</div>' 'autogenerated_68743'>><<setcharisma +4>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Somewhat. You nod at people when you're out running errands, and sometimes they nod back.</div>' 'autogenerated_68744'>><<setcharisma +2>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Not a chance. Outside of going out for work and missions, you're a hermit, sticking only to the compound and sometimes even your room.</div>' 'autogenerated_68745'>><<setloyal -5>><<setriel +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Riel nods. "I see. You never know when a connection may come in handy. Have you ventured much into Smoketown?" You chat idly for a while before the conversation turns to other things. <<include 'gettoknowriel'>>

Riel nods. "A normal amount of interaction, then. I rarely ever notice people walking by the coach." You chat idly for a while before the conversation turns to other things. <<include 'gettoknowriel'>>

Riel nods. "I'm much the same way. As I said, outside of work, I barely talk to anyone—including the help at my own home. If I could be left in peace to work on my research or my inventions, I would be a happy man indeed. I get terrible eye bags, though." You chat idly for a while before the conversation turns to other things. <<include 'gettoknowriel'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I look forward to reading the revised version."</div>' 'autogenerated_68746'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"No one's going to read it if it's five hundred pages long..."</div>' 'autogenerated_68747'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"What new rules are you putting in?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68748'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $loyal >= 60>> Riel smiles. "Of course you do. The perfect Shepherd officer." <br><br> You feel your face heat. "Is that true?" <br><br> "Look at your record. Your actions so far speak for themselves." <<else>> Riel snorts. "I will believe it when I see it." <br><br> "Are you suggesting I stray from the current rulebook?" <br><br> "No. I am suggesting that, based on your service record, you do not own a copy of the current rulebook, and if you do, you certainly have never opened it." <</if>><</nobr>> You chat idly for a while before the conversation turns to other things. <<include 'gettoknowriel'>>

<<nobr>><<if $loyal >= 60>> "But you will," Riel says with a smile. "The perfect Shepherd officer." <br><br> You feel your face heat. "Why do you say that?" <br><br> "Look at your record. Your actions so far speak for themselves." <<else>> Riel snorts. "Of course you would say that. You're the maverick of the officers already." <br><br> "Are you suggesting I stray from the current rulebook?" <br><br> "No. I am suggesting that, based on your service record, you do not own a copy of the current rulebook, and if you do, you certainly have never opened it." <</if>><</nobr>> You chat idly for a while before the conversation turns to other things. <<include 'gettoknowriel'>>

<<nobr>><<if $loyal >= 60>> "Well, not causing general mayhem needs to be specified," Riel states dryly. "Not that you need to worry about that." <br><br> You begin to grin. "Why do you say that?" <br><br> "Look at your record. Your actions so far speak for themselves. The model Shepherd officer, always keeping order. How do you do it?" <<else>> Riel snorts. "Will you even read them if I don't say?" <br><br> "Riel, are you suggesting I stray from the current rulebook?" <br><br> "No. I am suggesting that you do not own a copy of the current rulebook, and if you do, you certainly have never opened it." <</if>><</nobr>> You chat idly for a while before the conversation turns to other things. <<include 'gettoknowriel'>>

He snorts. "How smart do they say I am?" "People say you're always twelve moves ahead of everyone else," you say. "That you think so quickly, you rarely lend voice to your thoughts because the words would never catch up." Riel chuckles, a dry little sound that sounds like the tapping of mice feet. "I wouldn't quite phrase it like that," he says, albeit a little smugly. "But I do speak ten languages fluently, and I am on my way to twelve. I possess five high degrees, including in economics, law, Central politics, science, and history. I am one residency away from earning a medical degree, at which point I shall insist on being called Dr. Syndran, Master of Merchants Guild. I contribute regularly to psychological literature under the pseudonym Angar Arat, and under the same pseudonym, I am regarded as the leading expert in interrogation and body language analysis in the East. I deliver lectures on trade politics and microeconomies at the local universities. I possess perfect recall when it comes to the written word, though my experiential memory is not so far off. I own several patents. I can read lips, analyze handwriting, and detect (and create) forgeries with a flawless pass-rate. I—" Then he stops suddenly, looking slightly abashed. "I am sorry. Aerin has informed me, time and time again, that boasting about my intelligence is inane and tiresome. I suppose you do not need a litany of my accomplishments. I am intelligent, and you shall see it for yourself at some point." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I can see it already."</div>' 'autogenerated_68749'>><<setriel +3>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"We'll have to have a battle of the wits, you and I."</div>' 'autogenerated_68750'>><</link>> <<if ($rielromanceflag >= 5)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Smart men are so attractive." <b>[FLIRT]</b></div>' 'autogenerated_68751'>><<set $rielromanceflag += 1>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"We'll see about that."</div>' 'autogenerated_68752'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"There are other kinds of intelligence than just that, you know."</div>' 'autogenerated_68753'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

He smiles. "Can you? I suppose we'll see." <<include 'gettoknowriel'>>

Riel remains relaxed, but his eyes suddenly glimmer. "Yes," he says softly. "We shall have to." <<include 'gettoknowriel'>>

Riel snorts again, busying himself with arranging the objects on his desk into a perfect line. "Yes," he concedes after a moment, "I suppose I agree." <<include 'gettoknowriel'>>

He smiles. "Yes. We shall." <<include 'gettoknowriel'>>

Riel arches a skeptical brow. "Such as?" "Emotional intelligence?" "Ah," Riel says drolly. "You believe I'm lacking in that. Not so. I am actually excellent at perceiving the emotions, thoughts, and intentions of others. What I lack is <i>empathy</i>. When another person is irritated, or hurt, or feeling awkward—it's not that I don't notice. I'm perfectly aware. It's just that most of the time, it's beneath my attention, or I do not care to take the time to resolve the issue—unless it's advantageous to me. It's their emotions. They can handle it themselves." You stare at each other for a moment. "You see?" Riel says. "I can tell just by looking at you that you're…" <<include 'rielemotions15'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"...feeling a strange sense of admiration for my bluntness."</div>' 'rielemotions'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"...appalled by my callous attitude."</div>' 'rielemotions'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"...puzzled by me. One moment, I'm polite, the next, I'm saying people's feelings don't matter."</div>' 'rielemotions'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"...wondering how I'm so successful in business when my manners are quite poor."</div>' 'rielemotions'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"...annoyed by me."</div>' 'rielemotions'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"...thinking the issue over."</div>' 'rielemotions'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"There. Emotional intelligence, but it doesn't do very much, does it?" He sits back and fixes a cufflink. After a moment of silence, the discussion eventually moves on. <<include "gettoknowriel">>

Riel considers it. "I enjoy certain <i>divertissements</i>," he says after a moment. "As an aside, I loathe the word <i>hobbies</i>. It evokes the image of a child on his hobbyhorse. But, let's see... I possess perfect pitch and enjoy composing operas in my spare time. In my youth I participated in strategy games—mostly chess and dreadnoughts—and their tournaments." He adds nothing to this, but you know nonetheless that he's always won these tournaments… "I am an avid reader, of course. And I enjoy fine dining. I have made quite the tour of Haven's gourmet restaurants, whenever I remember to eat." He adjusts his pen on his desk and crosses one leg over his knee. "As for my dislikes… they are myriad and many. I am irritated by uncleanliness, by disorder and disorganization. I abhor poor grammar. I cannot bear the word 'turgid.' I despise delays caused by inefficiency—or traffic. I hate dander…" He continues on for some time before seeming to stir himself out a reverie. "And what about you?" he asks. "I know some of what you enjoy, but is there anything you strongly dislike?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I can't stand neat freaks. Or pretentious people, for that matter."</div>' 'autogenerated_68754'>><<setriel -5>><<set $rielromanceflag -= 5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I hate uncleanliness and clutter, too."</div>' 'autogenerated_68755'>><<setriel +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Children and loud noises annoy me."</div>' 'whataboutcainecheck'>><<setriel +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Unpleasant smells and especially sounds like chewing really get under my skin."</div>' 'autogenerated_68756'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I hate the heat, being overheated. It makes me irritable."</div>' 'autogenerated_68757'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I hate the cold and not being able to get warm. It makes me cranky."</div>' 'autogenerated_68758'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I hate people who lie to me. I can't stand dishonesty."</div>' 'autogenerated_68759'>><<setcunning -5>><<setriel -4>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Being deliberately ignored or talked over makes me want to scream."</div>' 'autogenerated_68760'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I loathe gossip. It makes me feel so angry."</div>' 'autogenerated_68761'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"Ah," Riel says, utterly emotionless. "A fundamental incompatibility, then. It's good to know of these things in advance." You force a smile. "I agree." The conversation moves onto other things, smooth as butter. You feel like two cats smiling at each other over a dead canary. <<include 'gettoknowriel'>>

<<nobr>><<if $gender is "male">> <<set $rielromanceflag += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> Riel smiles slightly. "I am glad we are in agreement. I find it terribly distracting; I can't think of anything else when I notice it. Is it the same way for you?" You talk on the subject for a while before it turns to more pleasant things. <<include 'gettoknowriel'>>

Riel grimaces. "What smells? Heavy and cheap perfume? Garbage?" You talk on the subject for a while before it turns to more pleasant things. <<include 'gettoknowriel'>>

"Your skin gets sticky and uncomfortable, and it's just… disgusting," you say. Riel nods. "I believe I would be able to tolerate heat in the desert," he says, "but the thought of humidity such as in the South disgusts me." You talk on the subject for a while before it turns to more pleasant things. <<include 'gettoknowriel'>>

"The cold rarely bothers me," Riel says, with something like sympathy, "but I can see how it would be frustrating. Dry skin, numb fingers… how would one get any work done?" You talk on the subject for a while before it turns to more pleasant things. <<include 'gettoknowriel'>>

"Ah," Riel says. "I suppose that's understandable." But he says little more on the subject, so the discussion turns to other things. <<include 'gettoknowriel'>>

Riel cocks his head. "Really? I can't imagine anyone talking over you, nor paying you that respect. Has it been a problem in the Order?" You talk on the subject for a while before it turns to more pleasant things. <<include 'gettoknowriel'>>

Riel cocks his head. "Truly? I find it to be a useful tool for gauging certain social situations. But I could see why it would irritate you. Some gossip can be as meaningless and nagging as a biting fly." You talk on the subject for a while before it turns to more pleasant things. <<include 'gettoknowriel'>>

He arches a brow. "What about Caine?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"He's different."</div>' 'rielchildrencontinue'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"He's not like the average kid."</div>' 'rielchildrencontinue'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I only tolerate him."</div>' 'rielchildrencontinue'>><<setcompassionate -3>><<setcunning +3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $cainejoin is true>> <<include "whataboutcaineriel">> <<else>> "They are fine from afar," Riel concedes. "But when they're near me, putting their sticky hands on my furniture, on <i>me</i>…" He shudders, and you commiserate over the horrors of children for a while before the topic turns to other things. <<include "gettoknowriel">> <</if>><</nobr>>

"Hmm." Riel says nothing more. <<include "gettoknowriel">>

<<set $gettoknowriel to true>> Riel clears his throat, as if you'd asked a very personal question. "I am a businessman," he says gently, politely, "more than a merchant or a trader. Though, I originally got my start in trading imports from the Sesz Isles—more specifically, off-world mutations and products. Horseflesh, tomatoes, khav. A lot of weaponry. That sort of thing." He picks invisible lint fastidiously off his sleeve. "Then, once my fortune had been built, I began to switch into other things. A colleague once contacted me with a seemingly-unsolvable problem. He'd been put in charge of ordering forty-thousand tons of grain to Kinley, which at the time was suffering from a drought and minor famine. But the shipment of grain—every last crate—had disappeared before ever crossing the mountains." "So he contacted you to help find him the grain?" "Yes, and there was a time limit," Riel said. "The famine—people were starving, rioting—and the city government would have flayed him in the public square if they'd discovered the disappearance. None of the inspectors or private detectives he'd hired had any luck solving the mystery. That's where I came in." "Where was the grain?" you ask, because of course he found it. Riel gives an airy wave of the hand. "The people who had taken it had spread it all over in an effort to hide it. To cut a long story short, I discovered that there was religious conflict in the city—a leader of a cult had been imprisoned for heresy—and his followers had taken the grain in order to secure his release. It was quite elementary, but the case garnered me a… certain reputation. As a person who could solve these types of problems." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"So you became a kind of private detective?"</div>' 'rielprivatedetective'>><<setriel +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"So you became a kind of consultant?"</div>' 'rielconsultant'>><<setriel +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"So you became a kind of assistant?"</div>' 'rielassistant'>><<setriel -3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Riel tilts his head. "Something like that. I'm an agent called in to help major business relations and contractual issues, legal disputes... I'd say I'm closer to a lawyer or a consultant. My fees are exorbitant, but usually less than the damage some of these problems would cause, without my intervention." <<include "rieltradeend">>

Riel nods. "Yes, exactly. My fees are exorbitant, but usually less than the damage some of these problems would cause, without my intervention." <<include "rieltradeend">>

Riel looks briefly annoyed. "<i>Assistant</i>!" He says the word as if he could catch a disease from it. "I am a consultant, <<c rank>>. A kind of investigative agent, called in to help major business relations and contractual issues. My fees are exorbitant, but usually less than the damage some of these problems would cause, without my intervention." <<include "rieltradeend">>

He shrugs. "And so now, I don't trade in very much at all, except with a small splinter company. The Syndran Business Syndicate deals primarily with three things: consultation, investments, and the selling of patents. I invent large sums both in ventures that seem profitable as well as more charitable causes that may bear fruit in other ways. And occasionally, I sell the patents for various inventions—which I develop only for the purpose of selling—at high rates of profit. Simple." It doesn't sound all that simple, but you suppose that's why he's as rich as he is. <<include "gettoknowriel">>

"I was born in Leore," Riel answers smoothly. "I attended the university there, then the University of Haven for my high degrees. I also worked for the Whitten Trading House before striking out on my own and forming the Syndran Business Syndicate, operating here in Haven." Then he pauses, seemingly done. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if ($charisma >= 35) or ($cunning >= 40)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Come on, you just interviewed me about my every thought for your biography... the least you could do is tell me more about you."</div>' 'autogenerated_68762'>><<setcharisma +3>><<setcunning +3>><<setriel +3>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($charisma < 35 and $cunning < 40)>><div class="inactive-item">"Come on, you just interviewed me about my every thought for your biography... the least you could do is tell me more about you."</div><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I see."</div>' 'autogenerated_68763'>><<setriel -3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"That's all?" He didn't really say very much.</div>' 'autogenerated_68764'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I wasn't asking for your resumé, Riel. Where's your family? Are you involved with anyone?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68765'>><<setcourage +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $gender is "male">> <<set $rielromanceflag += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> "Very well," he concedes. "What else do you want to know?" "I don't know, how about…" <<include 'moreofrielsbackground'>>

Riel nods curtly and changes the subject, asking you about your thoughts on the economic situation here in Haven. <<include 'gettoknowriel'>>

He blinks at you. "What else is there?" "I don't know, how about…" <<include 'rielbackgroundchoices'>>

"I was adopted by the Whittens when I was fourteen," Riel says flatly. "And as for <i>involvement</i>—no, no one. No one has ever quite… caught my eye." <<nobr>><<if $rielromanceflag >= 6>> He glances at you briefly before looking away. <</if>><</nobr>> It seems that's all he intends to say on the matter. <<include 'gettoknowriel'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Where are your parents? Do you have siblings?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68766'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"What were you like as a child?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68767'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Are you involved with anyone?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68768'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"No siblings," Riel says, without batting an eye. "I was adopted by the Whittens when I was fourteen." So he was an orphan? Did they adopt him from an orphanage, or what happened before then? But from the look on Riel's face, he's not eager to talk about it, so you don't press the subject. At least he gave you <i>something.</i> <<include 'gettoknowriel'>>

Riel frowns into the middle distance for a moment, thinking on it. "It's hard to gauge," he admits after a while. "I am not familiar with what the average child is like, so I don't know if I was unusual or perfectly ordinary. I liked to read. I drove my tutors to weeping; most quit. I was quite a solitary and lonely child. My… mother used to say that I was born with an old soul." <<nobr>><<if $cainejoin is true>> He looks away. "If Caine is any example of the typical child, then no, I don't think I was anything like him." <</if>><</nobr>> Well, it's not much, but at least he gave you <i>something</i>. <<include 'gettoknowriel'>>

Riel half-snorts, almost derisively. "No. No one has ever quite… caught my attention." <<nobr>><<if $rielromanceflag >= 6>> He glances at you briefly before looking away. <</if>><</nobr>> Well, it's not much, but you suspect it's more than he's told anybody about his personal life. <<include 'gettoknowriel'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Where are your parents? Do you have siblings?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68769'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"What were you like as a child?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68770'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Are you involved with anyone?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68771'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Moments later, it bursts open as his assistant Aerin storms into the room again, holding what looks like a bin overflowing with envelopes. "<i>More</i> letters," she breathes, eyes flashing. "I swear, Riel, I can't keep going back and forth from Merchants Guild and here, lugging your mail!" "Get an apprentice to do it, then." He reaches for the bin, but she holds it away, out of arm's reach. "Oh, no!" his assistant cries. "I'm not giving you these until you swear not to throw them away! People are sending cheques, Riel, important invitations—one person asked you to be a part of a wedding! At least let me reply to them, it's only polite and pisses off the least amount of people—<i>important connections</i>!…" "I swear I will not throw them away, Aerin," Riel says gravely. "You have my word." The pink-haired Mage looks at you beadily. "Think he's being serious?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I don't know what's going on."</div>' 'autogenerated_68772'>><<setriel -3>><<set $rielromanceflag -= 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You can trust him."</div>' 'autogenerated_68773'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You can't even trust him an inch."</div>' 'autogenerated_68774'>><<setcunning +3>><<setriel +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Aerin tsks. "Fine," she says, thrusting the bin towards Riel, who accepts it. "I know you hardly ever break your word…" <<include 'rielburnletters'>>

Aerin tsks. "I <i>know</i>." After a moment's contemplation, however, she sighs and thrusts the bin towards Riel, who accepts it. "But he almost never breaks his word. Here, fine…" <<include 'rielburnletters'>>

Riel takes the envelopes and promptly dumps them in the wastebin by his desk. Aerin lets loose an ear-splitting, indignant shriek. "<i>You said you wouldn't throw them away</i>!" "I'm not," he answers calmly, taking something out of his drawer. "I'm burning them." And with that, he lights a match and drops it into the wastebin, setting all of the letters and envelopes ablaze. <<page_break "Next" "rielmarriagemarket">>

<<set $rielstatus to "You're beginning to get to know him better.">>Aerin screams as if he'd stabbed her in the heart. You watch his little smirk and say, "What are those?" "They're letters from important businessmen!" Aerin yells. "Powerful, wealthy connections who—" "Who want me to marry their daughters," Riel says seriously. "I am, it seems, a 'hot commodity' on today's marriage market." His dry look tells you that he finds this ironic. "Merchant families tend to marry each other and combine their trading clans, becoming wealthier and more influential with each generation. All of these letters are from fabulously rich businessmen who are desperate for me to marry into their families. Letters of engagement, even though their daughters have never seen me and likely wouldn't like the look of me even if they did—I believe you said I am as pale and testy as a vampire in daylight, Aerin?" "You could at least do them the decency of answering," his assistant says, totally ignoring the jibe. "You could at least exploit the desire, make the connections anyway, be <i>polite</i>…!" "Waste of time," Riel says airily. "No point to it." "Why's that?" you ask him. Riel begins to grin, and the growing firelight from the burning letters spreads across his face; he looks positively wicked as he answers you. "Let's just say they're not my type." <<include "rielover">>

<<setriel +5>>You poke your head into Riel's office, but one of the recruits you're beginning to recognize as another of his forcefully-requisitioned assistants informs you that he has the day off—for once—and is presumably spending it at his estate in Whitestone. Although he keeps quarters at the compound for when he needs them, the business leader still owns a large manor of "distinct and refined taste" in the wealthy part of the city, at least according to the gossip sheets. You've never been inside, but it's been pointed out to you on a few occasions while you've been out and about in Haven. "Do you think he'd be open to receiving unexpected callers?" you ask the assistant. The slight, bespectacled young man blinks. "Not generally… he hates unpredictability," he begins shyly. "But I think he'd make an exception for you, <<c rank>>." So you decide to make the trek up to Whitestone to pay the Shepherds' resident genius a visit. His house is easy to locate: all clean, straight white lines and sleek, minimalistic adornments, with a tall stone wall encapsulating the manicured grounds in a parallelogram, the place perfectly captures Riel's love of order and symmetry. Still, it's far from cold and clinical, either: there's an immediate sense of thoughtfulness and comfortable assurance in its design as you pass through the main gates and make your way up the white gravel drive. To your surprise, you pass Trouble on your way up to the house, a charch cigarette clamped between his teeth and a sullen, brooding expression fixed on his face as he walks with his hands shoved in his pockets. His eyebrows lift, and he takes the cigarette away from his mouth as he says, "<<c halfname>>? What're you doing here?" "Seeing what Riel's up to," you answer, lifting your eyebrows back at him. "What are <i>you</i> doing here?" The mutinous scowl returns to his face, and he scuffs a boot against the ground. "Me and Riel are, uh, working on something together," he mutters. "Or competing, more like. But it's frustrating him at the moment, so he's moody and sending everybody scurrying. He just kicked me out on account of distracting him, so…" "Damn," you say sympathetically. "I can't imagine a visit from me would be welcome, then." "Oh, no," the sniper returns with an airy wave as he continues on his way. "He likes <i>you</i>. Or respects you, anyway. Maybe you can get him to loosen up." Following Trouble's vague instructions as he calls them back over his shoulder, you turn away from the front of the house and instead round its corner, making your way to what would look like a discreet stable or detached hayloft on any other estate. When you peek through the open doors, however, you find that the space is actually closer to a large, spacious workshop or hangar, clearly meant for the storage of large projects. Riel is inside, his back turned to you as he examines a block-shaped tangle of foreign-looking metal pieces and pipes sitting on a workbench in front of him, deep in sharp-shouldered, irritated thought. The sight of him gives you pause, even with his back turned; for once, he's removed his outer suit jacket, wearing a simple (though undoubtedly expensive) white shirt with the sleeves rolled to the elbows and his tie draped neatly over a nearby chair. It's as informal as you've ever seen him. <<nobr>><<if ($rielromanceflag >= 5 and $ace is false and $aroace is false)>> You take a moment to appreciate the slim elegance of his pale hands, the exposed skin of his wrists and the sharp column of his throat, before he has the chance to turn around. <</if>><</nobr>> Still examining the engine sitting before him, Riel says, without turning, "Good afternoon, <<c firstname>>. I would normally be more hospitable, but I'm afraid you've caught me at a busy time." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Lean against the mantle. "Take your time. I'm enjoying the view." <b>[FLIRT]</b></div>' 'autogenerated_68775'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"How did you know it was me?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68776'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"What's going on?"</div>' 'rieltalk2'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"When is it ever not a busy time for you?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68777'>><<setcharisma +1>><<setriel +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"And here I was expecting some of that famous Syndran hospitality."</div>' 'autogenerated_68778'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if ($gender is "male" and $rielromanceflag >= 5)>> <<set $rielromanceflag += 1>> Riel turns and casts you an amused glance, the barest ghost of a smile playing around his mouth, before he turns back to his engine. <<else>> Riel snorts without turning around, not deigning to give you a response. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'rieltalk2'>>

"The way you walk," he returns absently, still without turning around. <<include 'rieltalk2'>>

You think a smile might be playing around Riel's mouth, though you can only see his face from an angle. "Never," he acknowledges lightly, "though some times are better than others." <<include 'rieltalk2'>>

Riel chuckles to himself, though he doesn't turn. "I am famous for several things, but I never expected hospitality to be one of them." "Shery raves about the various sweet treats you provide guests." "Ah, that makes more sense. So long as it isn't my sparkling conversation and charm being extolled, as that would be inaccurate." <<include 'rieltalk2'>>

He clasps his hands behind his back for another moment. "Trouble and I are in the middle of an… intellectual disagreement," he begins. "You may know that he's fond of mechanical tinkering: he has a habit of taking apart his guns in order to understand how they work, and his interest has extended to the various inventions they've been working on in the West. It's said that we'll likely see a working airship in our lifetime, and already a prototype automated train is being designed, as well. In theory, the latter would run along a set of tracks and would ferry a string of carts between two or several locations. The question is: what would such a thing be powered by? The Western inventors seem to be determined to create something that doesn't rely on magic, or any of the crystral-powered energy sources that Mages once used before the Castigation. We got to debating the possibilities of an engine powered by compressed gases, or perhaps steam, but disagreed on what would be the most efficient method of creating such a device." "And now here you are," you say, amused. "Toiling over an engine block at home on your day off—and all to prove Trouble wrong. I just saw him on the way in, by the way. He implied you were having trouble." "I hope that wasn't wordplay," Riel answers dryly. "And yes, I am—though no more than he is. We've each hit our own dead ends, though I admit I've had an advantage over him up until now. At least I can work on my prototype in the comfort and privacy of my own workshop. <i>He's</i> been forced to commandeer one of the lesser-used courtyards at the compound, strewing metal pieces across the yard and getting machine oil everywhere. I'm told Blade ordered him to clear it all out, so we've declared a temporary truce until he can move his things here." "So are you two partners in this venture, or rivals?" Riel shrugs expressively. "For me, the two are often one in the same. We can each work on our projects separately when the other one isn't here. And if either one of us proves the other wrong, some good is still achieved either way: we'll have gained a better understanding of the whole process. Who am I to stand in the way of knowledge and progress?" He reaches out to delicately adjust something on his engine block, then sighs heavily when the piece falls off; if he were any other person, he'd probably run a weary hand through his perfect hair. However, he only sets it down, turns to face you fully, and smiles tiredly, extending his hand in a formal handshake. "Hello." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Shake his hand seriously. "Good to see you again."</div>' 'autogenerated_68779'>><<setriel +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Shake his hand ironically. "How do you do."</div>' 'autogenerated_68780'>><<setriel +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Sidestep the handshake and give him a big hug.</div>' 'autogenerated_68781'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Ignore the handshake.</div>' 'autogenerated_68782'>><<setriel -4>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if ($gender is "male" and $rielromanceflag >= 5)>> <<set $rielromanceflag += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> "Likewise," Riel says with a trace of an approving smile. "Welcome to my workspace. One of them, anyway." <<include 'rieltalk3'>>

Riel smiles, noticing your a hint of sardonicism but seemingly appreciating your gesture of politeness. "Welcome to my workspace. One of them, anyway." <<include 'rieltalk3'>>

<<nobr>><<if ($riel < 65)>> <<setriel -1>> <</if>><</nobr>> "Urk," Riel says as you squeeze your arms around him; it's a surprised, uncomfortable sound. Then he clears his throat and steps away from you, as if embarrassed by his indignity, ignoring your cheerful grin. "Ahem… well, then. Welcome to my workspace. One of them, anyway." <<include 'rieltalk3'>>

Riel smoothly withdraws his hand and clasps it behind his back, his expression giving nothing away. "Welcome to my workspace. One of them, anyway." <<include 'rieltalk3'>>

You look around, taking in the high wooden rafters and clean-swept stone floors. There is a sense of utter calm to this space, despite the fact that it has no furnishings or decorations: only several bright overhead lights, scattered workbenches, a neat shelf of tools and boxes, and a hearth in the corner with a plump armchair, with a side table for snacks and a water pitcher and another shelf for books. The workshop smells pleasantly of wood, packing straw, sawdust, and something like the faint fumes of expensive varnish or polishing lacquer. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I like it. It seems like a nice place to get away from it all."</div>' 'autogenerated_68783'>><<setriel +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Is this where you go to be alone with your thoughts?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68784'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I wish I had a place like this. The compound can get a bit... crowded."</div>' 'autogenerated_68785'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"It seems lonely. Kind of sad."</div>' 'autogenerated_68786'>><<setriel -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm surprised to find you here alone. Don't you have any aides or servants?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68787'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Riel nods pensively. "I suppose it is that. I had it built for practical reasons, obviously: there are just some experiments that wouldn't be sensible to conduct indoors. But it has become something like a place of refuge for me. Somewhere where even the demands of business or everyday tasks can't reach me." <<include 'rieltalk4'>>

Riel nods pensively. "I suppose so. I had it built for practical reasons, obviously: there are just some experiments that wouldn't be sensible to conduct indoors. But it has become something like a place of refuge for me. Somewhere where even the demands of business or everyday tasks can't reach me." <<include 'rieltalk4'>>

Riel nods slowly. "Yes, it can. All of those bodies crammed into one building. Don't get me wrong: the camaraderie and companionship are worthwhile. But sometimes one needs a place to <i>think</i>, to be alone. Somewhere where even the demands of business and everyday tasks can't reach them." <<include 'rieltalk4'>>

Riel tilts his head. "It's interesting that you think so. I think <i>solitude</i> is different from <i>loneliness</i>. This place has become a kind of refuge for me, when the demands of business and the clamor of everyday mundane tasks become too noisome. It's more of a safehaven than a place of exile." <<include 'rieltalk4'>>

"Not here," Riel says, shaking his head. "This place is just for me: the staff stays in the house, when I don't send them home for the day outright, and assistants and aides aren't allowed here, either. I prefer it that way. It's a place of refuge for me, to be alone with my thoughts." <<include 'rieltalk4'>>

He tilts his head at you, curious. "Some scholars call such places 'third spaces'—the primary haunts a person occupies when they're not at home or at work, or just their little places of sanctuary. Do you have a place like that, for yourself?" You think on it for a moment. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"The library."</div>' 'autogenerated_68788'>><<setriel +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"The park."</div>' 'autogenerated_68789'>><</link>> <<if $belief is "one-god">><<link '<div class="choice-item">"The church."</div>' 'autogenerated_68790'>><<setfaith +1>><</link>><</if>> <<if $belief is "oldfaith">><<link '<div class="choice-item">"The temple."</div>' 'autogenerated_68791'>><<setfaith +1>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"The tavern."</div>' 'autogenerated_68792'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"The market."</div>' 'autogenerated_68793'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"The café."</div>' 'autogenerated_68794'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"The city streets in general."</div>' 'autogenerated_68795'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"The Shepherd battlements."</div>' 'autogenerated_68796'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"The rooftops."</div>' 'autogenerated_68797'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"The forest."</div>' 'autogenerated_68798'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"The bath."</div>' 'autogenerated_68799'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I have a place, but it's sort of my own little secret."</div>' 'autogenerated_68800'>><<setriel +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I just meditate in my room if I want to take a break from things."</div>' 'autogenerated_68801'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I don't need to go anywhere in particular: I like being at the compound."</div>' 'autogenerated_68802'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I used to have a place like that, back in my hometown... but I haven't had one in a long time."</div>' 'autogenerated_68803'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if ($gender is "male")>> <<set $rielromanceflag += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> You love sitting in that golden, dust-mote-filled silence, surrounded by the sheltering company of old books. Riel smiles slightly. "Yes, I've often heard that you can be found there on your off-time. It seems a nice kind of sanctuary, though I confess I'd be annoyed if I needed to check out a book and found it already taken. I am avaricious in that way." <<include 'rieltalk5'>>

You love sitting in the greenery of the park, watching people stroll by and swans drift in the glassy lakes. Riel nods slowly. "A picturesque enough scene, though I suppose it's a bit dependent on cooperative weather." <<include 'rieltalk5'>>

You find peace and refuge in your local church, a hush falling over your soul whenever you enter the welcoming gaze of the One-God. Riel nods slowly. "I've often heard that people feel that way about their places of worship. On an aesthetic level, I understand it, though I confess I'm not religious myself." <<include 'rieltalk5'>>

You love stepping into the hushed sanctity of that hidden temple to the old gods, your senses suffused with the scents of warm coffee and ancient, still power. Riel nods slowly. "I've often heard that people feel that way about their places of worship. On an aesthetic level, I understand it, though I confess I'm not religious myself." <<include 'rieltalk5'>>

You love sitting in your local pub, surrounded by the rowdy conversations and lively sounds of friends and neighbors all around you. Riel nods slowly. "Yes, that's a common place to get away and forget your troubles, though I'd be surprised if you could get much thinking done, with the likes of Trouble and Ayla challenging others to a drinking contest in your ear." <<include 'rieltalk5'>>

You love roaming through Haven's lively markets, browsing the endless stalls and observing the miniature stories that unfold as shoppers and vendors stroll by. Riel smiles slightly, as if surprised. "Truly? I haven't heard of someone using the markets in that way. It seems a bit chaotic, but… intriguing, nonetheless." <<include 'rieltalk5'>>

You love sitting at your leisure, reading a newspaper and sipping on a hot drink while listening to the burble and chatter of the lively conversations all around you. Riel smiles slightly. "I enjoy cafés. If you have any recommendations, they would be welcome." <<include 'rieltalk5'>>

You love roaming through the streets of Haven, exploring the different districts and neighborhoods of the city and just letting all of that life wash over you. Riel raises his eyebrows. "I had heard you're something of a wanderer. I suppose there's something romantic about letting your feet take you wherever they'd like in your contemplations." <<include 'rieltalk5'>>

You love sitting up on the high Shepherd battlements, the noise and bustle of the city distant and remote beneath you, the wind ruffling your hair and clothes. Riel nods thoughtfully. "An interesting choice, and not an unpopular one; I believe I know of a few other people who find solace up there." <<include 'rieltalk5'>>

You love climbing up onto the rooftops and gazing down at the streets below, concealed, comfortable, and safe from your perch. Riel nods thoughtfully. "An interesting choice, and not an unpopular one: I believe I've spied both Chase and Ayla sitting on some rooftop or another when they want to reflect on things or be alone." He mutters something under his breath about doubting whether Chase <i>is</i> capable of reflection, however. <<include 'rieltalk5'>>

You love making your way out into the Sun's Embrace, the forested valley beyond the city gates, and losing yourself to the embrace of nature as you explore the hills, shadowed glades, and hidden ponds and lakes. Riel nods thoughtfully. "I've never had much occasion to explore that land myself, but its beauty and serenity is famous. I believe Tallys does much the same as you." <<include 'rieltalk5'>>

You do your best thinking in the peace and quiet of a hot, relaxing bath, your mind churning out ideas as you go through the mindless daily routines. <<nobr>><<if ($gender is "male" and $rielromanceflag >= 5)>> Riel looks away. <<else>> Riel smiles. <</if>><</nobr>> "That's a common one. Regrettably, I find myself too restless to enjoy those benefits, but it's interesting to hear that it works for you." <<include 'rieltalk5'>>

Riel observes you for a moment, smiling to himself. "I can respect that," he says, clearly amused. "For after all, there's not much point in a sanctuary if everybody knows about it." <<include 'rieltalk5'>>

Riel nods slowly. "I find your ability to focus—regardless of your surroundings—admirable. I wish I were half as resilient and less fickle in general." <<include 'rieltalk5'>>

You don't have a 'third space': you work, live, eat, rest, and are perfectly at home in the Shepherds' compound. You have no need to stray away from it. Riel nods approvingly. "We are lucky to have a facility that can meet every conceivable need. I think your fondness of it is the best-case scenario. The Tower architects would be pleased." <<include 'rieltalk5'>>

Riel glances at your face, as if attempting to read your expression—but in the end, he simply nods and says, a tad awkwardly: "Well, if you ever find yourself needing privacy, you're welcome to use this space, especially when I'm not here. No one will disturb you here." You look at him, surprised by the gesture. "Thank you." Riel inclines his head. <<include 'rieltalk5'>>

Looking around, you say, "If you designed and constructed an entire place like this just to get away from it all, yet filled it with these projects… you must be passionate about this kind of work. It's not exactly what I would have expected a merchant leader to be doing in his downtime." Riel nods, escorting you tamely as you begin to pick your way through the workbenches, viewing the wide array of byzantine, half-finished prototypes and neatly-drawn schematics. "Yes, it's certainly one of my primary interests. In fact, when I was younger, I entertained notions of becoming a famous inventor, of filling the world with my creations in order to better peoples' lives and construct a kind of indefatigable legacy." He pauses, then continues, "My parents were… not supportive of the idea. They outright forbade me from it. They were overbearing, controlling people, and they were adamant about my taking up the mantle of the family business when I was older. There was no room for my own goals or desires: the matter was decided before I was born." You nod slowly; it's a common enough story. "You were an only child?" Riel gives a ghostly smile, with a trace of his trademark irony. "As far as I know. And I had no friends to confide in, either: I wasn't allowed to leave the house much. It was a lonely, isolated childhood. Only the servants seemed to care about my wellbeing beyond simply ensuring I was clothed and fed, but my secret hopes and wants weren't a matter I could discuss with them freely. They were, after all, beholden to my parents as well. All of us were prisoners in that household, but at least <i>they</i> could quit the service and go home to their families. I couldn't." "What did you end up doing?" you ask him. He shakes his head. "I ran away from home, if you can believe it, at fourteen, with the aid of one of my tutors who was… sympathetic to my situation. But a youth like that can't make his way in the world, or survive, by hawking his untested inventions to strangers. I had to leverage my other skills, which were more immediate and practical—and, in a twist of irony, I ended up pursuing the very same mercantile path my parents would have press-ganged me into in the first place." Idly, he spreads his hands to indicate the workshop around you. "Now, at least, I'm out from under their yoke… and I have the freedom and resources to pursue inventing in my own time." <<include "rieltalk6">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("whatrielparents")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"What happened to your parents? Did they look for you?"</div>' 'whatrielparents'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("sorryrielupbringing")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"I'm sorry to hear you didn't have the happiest upbringing."</div>' 'sorryrielupbringing'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("whatrieltutor")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"What happened to the tutor who helped you?"</div>' 'whatrieltutor'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("rielhistory")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Last time we spoke, you seemed most interested in history, in writing that biographical book you were talking about. Is that still the case?"</div>' 'rielhistory'>><<setriel +2>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Turn the conversation back to his inventions. "What's this?"</div>' 'rielinvention'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"I made certain that they wouldn't be able to," Riel says, his eyes like chips of blue ice. For a brief moment, an almost physical chill seems to emanate from him—but then he turns away to examine one of his inventions, and the feeling fades to only a wisp of warning not to discuss the matter further. <<include "rieltalk6">>

Riel shakes his head sharply, as if to deflect any pity. "It is nothing compared to what others have endured," he answers coolly. "But I appreciate the sentiment. It's not something I discuss much with others, so I would be grateful if it would stay between us." Then, changing the subject, he adds, "Did you have an idea of what you wanted to be, when you were a child?" <<include "rielchildhood">>

"He lives in retirement with his husband in a little cottage outside of Ambryn. We still keep in touch, and sometimes they visit." His tone, although perfectly civil, seems guarded, so it doesn't seem like he's interested in discussing more. <<include "rieltalk6">>

For a long, long moment, you and Riel look at each other; he's fallen quite still. Then he blows out a breath and shakes his head ruefully. "You've hit upon the very problem that marks my life, <<c firstname>>. I want to do it <i>all</i>. Business, Shepherd work, shedding light on past events as a historian, creating for the future as an inventor. I consider them all to be equally important—and I am equally passionate about each subject individually. But alas, I don't have the <i>time</i>. I am, regrettably, mortal, and even more regrettably need sleep. So when I choose to focus on one"—here he gestures around at his workshop—"the other tends to fall by the wayside. It is the most frustrating problem, as I don't believe I can master any one thing if I'm constantly distracted by the others." <<include "rielpreference">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Not really. I never thought about it."</div>' 'autogenerated_68804'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Yes, I wanted to be an adventurer or explorer. I wanted to travel."</div>' 'autogenerated_68805'>><<setcourage +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Yes, I wanted to be a soldier or mercenary. Some kind of fighter, anyway."</div>' 'autogenerated_68806'>><<setstrength +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Yes, I wanted to be a scholar or academic, to learn about the world beyond my own experiences."</div>' 'autogenerated_68807'>><<setintelligence +1>><<setriel +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Yes, I wanted to be a performer, like a bard or actor or musician or acrobat. Someone that could entertain others."</div>' 'autogenerated_68808'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Yes, I wanted to be a healer or a physicker, someone who could bring hope to the destitute."</div>' 'autogenerated_68809'>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Yes, I wanted to be an artist or a crafter, someone who created beautiful things and inspired others."</div>' 'autogenerated_68810'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Yes, I wanted to be a tradesman like a blacksmith or carpenter: someone who could build things and make tools for people."</div>' 'autogenerated_68811'>><<setstrength +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Yes, I wanted to be a trader or a merchant, someone who could sell useful wares and interact with lots of people."</div>' 'autogenerated_68812'>><<setcharisma +1>><<setriel +2>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Yes, I wanted to run my own business, like an inn or a bakery."</div>' 'autogenerated_68813'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Yes, I wanted to be a hunter or a ranger, someone who roamed the wilds."</div>' 'autogenerated_68814'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Yes, I wanted to work with animals, maybe as a horse-wrangler or mounted courier."</div>' 'autogenerated_68815'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Yes, but it was fantastical: I wanted to be an aristocrat, like a prince or a princess, and didn't understand that it wasn't something you could just <i>become</i>."</div>' 'autogenerated_68816'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Yes, I wanted to be a homemaker and raise my own family."</div>' 'autogenerated_68817'>><<setloyal +1>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>> <<if ($heritage is "Elf")>><<link '<div class="heritage-item">"I suppose I simply expected I would stay with my clan, maybe become Speaker like my father, or take on one of the other high positions."</div>' 'autogenerated_68818'>><<setriel +1>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($heritage is "Hunter")>><<link '<div class="heritage-item">"I suppose I simply expected I would take over the farm after my parents."</div>' 'autogenerated_68819'>><<setriel +1>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($heritage is "Ket")>><<link '<div class="heritage-item">"I suppose I simply expected to join my father, working in his mercenary fleet, protecting ships from corsairs. Or maybe I would have been one of the fishers."</div>' 'autogenerated_68820'>><<setriel +1>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($heritage is "Norm")>><<link '<div class="heritage-item">"I suppose I simply expected to help my father with his mayorship, and maybe even succeed him one day."</div>' 'autogenerated_68821'>><<setriel +1>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I wanted to be a lot of things and had never settled on just one thing. You know how kids are."</div>' 'autogenerated_68822'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Riel laughs slightly. "I suppose most children don't. At least you're free of expectations, then, including your own. Becoming a Shepherd wouldn't have been too unusual if you didn't have a preset idea of what you were going to be, instead." <<include 'rieltalk6'>>

Riel smiles. "And you have accomplished that, and more. Being a Shepherd is as close to being an adventurer as I can think of, nowadays." <<include 'rieltalk6'>>

Riel smiles. "And look at you now, member of a paramilitary order comprised of the world's best fighters. You accomplished everything you set out to do, and more." <<include 'rieltalk6'>>

<<nobr>><<if ($gender is "male" and $rielromanceflag >= 5)>> <<set $rielromanceflag += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> <<nobr>><<if ($education is "Circle-trained")>> Riel smiles. "And you accomplished that and more, if Red's stories are to be believed." <<else>> Riel smiles. "You have certainly done that, and being a member of the Shepherds offers more research opportunities than many schools." <</if>><</nobr>> He shakes his head. "I'm pleased to find we're kindred spirits, of a sort. If you were interested in the pursuit of knowledge even as a child, we have much more in common than many might think." <<include 'rieltalk6'>>

Riel nods. "You do have the charisma and magnetism for it, I'd say. Interesting that you were aware of that even as a child." <<include 'rieltalk6'>>

"Ah, saintly even as a child," Riel quips. "Your pure heart puts all of us to shame." <<include 'rieltalk6'>>

"I've heard others remark upon the fineness of your works," Riel comments, tilting his head. "I'd love to see them someday." <<include 'rieltalk6'>>

"Trouble mentioned you have a skill for industry and an artisan's mind yourself," Riel remarks. "I'd love to see your handiwork someday." <<include 'rieltalk6'>>

Riel breaks out into a smile, as close to a grin as you've ever seen him. "Truly? And you're not only saying that to earn my favor, I assume." You shake your head with a rueful smile of your own. "It was always a dream of mine, long ago." He laughs. "Imagine if you'd joined my guild as a merchant. What an interesting alternate timeline that would be…" <<include 'rieltalk6'>>

Riel smiles. "I had no idea you had an entrepreneurial spirit like that. In another life, I could have invested and helped you build your business." <<include 'rieltalk6'>>

Riel tilts his head. "Truly? To me, it sounds a rough, solitary existence—but admittedly a romantic one, at least for an imaginative child." <<include 'rieltalk6'>>

Riel wrinkles his nose in the mildest expression of distaste. "Ah, I see. I... can't say I relate—I am not... comfortable with animals...—but it seems a worthy profession. At least you did end up becoming a shepherd in a certain sense." "Riel, was that wordplay?" "Yes, you were witness to the once-a-year occurrence wherein I indulge in it." <<include 'rieltalk6'>>

Riel smiles, though there's a hard glitter to his eyes. "Ah, but it's not so fantastical. There are ways of becoming an aristocrat—or gaining the power and status of one—that don't involve being born into a noble family." "Like marriage?" you ask knowingly, remembering how he burned the letters of engagement in his office. Riel shrugs lightly. "Among other things. Making friends with the right people can also get you there." <<include 'rieltalk6'>>

"A worthwhile dream," Riel acknowledges. "Some philosophers argue it's the meaning and purpose behind our very existence." <<include 'rieltalk6'>>

Riel nods, taking this in. "I see. I've done a little reading on the Elven clan structure—there would have been the Keeper, a kind of historian-advisor like Tallys was, and the Huntmaster, who ensured the protection and safety of the clan, not only managing the supply of food but commanding the… I believe the word is <i>faronnath</i>?" You're taken aback by his Elvish, spoken almost perfectly save for the faintest trace of an accent. "<i>Feredis</i>, but close. The hunters and scouts of the clan. The <i>faronnath</i> were the warriors, who were sometimes led by the Huntmaster, but larger clans had their own—generals would be the Common word for it." Riel nods gravely, his blue eyes locked on yours. "Fascinating. I'll have to do more reading." <<include 'rieltalk6'>>

Riel nods slowly. "I suppose there wasn't much else to do in Maj. I hear it's hard work, in those parts." You sigh, thinking of long seasons prying at the cracked, dry earth. "It was." <<include 'rieltalk6'>>

Riel nods slowly. "I have no doubt you could have taken command of his forces, if you'd wanted. I imagine you must be very comfortable with the sea." "My blessing and my home," you murmur in an automatic chant, your fingers making the instinctive sign of the wave-mother. "What about you?" Riel shakes his head. "I've never left these shores, though I admit I've always been curious about the lands beyond the Continent, such as the Ivory Isles. Perhaps one day—when they've found a way to make the journey more comfortable—I'll embark on a voyage." He smiles at you. "Perhaps you can join me and protect my ship." <<include 'rieltalk6'>>

Riel nods slowly. "Did he ever have any rivals for his seat?" You shake your head. "Not that I'm aware of. Westwood was so new that I think everyone was grateful that he took on the burden of leadership. I don't think anyone was keen to take that from him when they were all just busy figuring things out." He looks away politely as you swallow the lump in your throat. <<include 'rieltalk6'>>

Riel smiles slightly. "Of course. Their whims are quickly-formed and mercurial." <<include 'rieltalk6'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You'll burn yourself out if you try to do it all. You should prioritize one thing and try to avoid stretching yourself out too thin."</div>' 'autogenerated_68823'>><<set $rielharden += 1>><<setriel +2>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Have more faith in yourself. You can do it all if you try hard enough. You're Riel Syndran, after all."</div>' 'autogenerated_68824'>><<set $rielharden -= 1>><<setriel -3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Riel blows out a breath. "Yes, but which one should I prioritize? At different times, I feel just as zealous about one as the other." <<include 'rielpriorityresponse'>>

He smiles slightly. "Perhaps you're right," he muses. "The extraordinary was never achieved because someone threw in the towel early." <<include 'rieltalk6'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"It seems to me that inventing is more useful than writing. You can help people in physical, tangible ways."</div>' 'autogenerated_68825'>><<set $riel_inventor to true>><<setriel +1>><<set $rielstatus to "He values your opinion deeply.">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"It seems to me that writing is more useful than inventing. Getting down all the facts and spreading truth is important."</div>' 'autogenerated_68826'>><<set $riel_historian to true>><<setriel +1>><<set $rielstatus to "He values your opinion deeply.">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"That's up to you."</div>' 'autogenerated_68827'>><<setriel -5>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"I suppose that's true," Riel says musedly, lapsing into deep thought. "After all, why focus on the past when I can influence and shape the future...?" Then he stirs and half-turns to you, his expression quiet, distant, but... somehow softer. Appreciative. "Thank you," he begins. "Truthfully: this isn't something I talk about with others. I find myself... at ease in your presence. Able to talk more about what's concerning me." Then his look turns shrewder. "Though I think we both knew that I was referring to <i>other</i> priorities as well." <<include 'rielpriorities'>>

"I suppose that's true," Riel says musedly, lapsing into deep thought. "If someone doesn't have the wherewithal to report on things, truthfully and accurately, as they're unfolding, there's no telling what could happen. The present is always derived from the lessons of the past, after all. If we want people in the future to be taking the right things from our stories, we need to ensure they're written about well. <i>Especially</i> by someone who was personally there to witness them." Then he stirs and half-turns to you, his expression quiet, distant, but... somehow softer. Appreciative. "Thank you," he begins. "Truthfully: this isn't something I talk about with others. I find myself... at ease in your presence. Able to talk more about what's concerning me." Then his look turns shrewder. "Though I think we both knew that I was referring to <i>other</i> priorities as well." <<include 'rielpriorities'>>

"You don't have an opinion?" Riel asks mildly. "No, that's fine. I think we both know I was asking about my <i>other</i> priorities." He looks at you pointedly. <<include 'rielpriorities'>>

He must be referring to his work as Riel Syndran, the businessman and leader of Merchants Guild, and the work he's been steadily taking on as... a Shepherd? A Shepherd-adjacent volunteer? It's still unclear if he even has an official title or rank, or if you're all still laboring under the fantasy that he's simply helping the Order out in his free time, despite the fact that he now spends the majority of his time there and seems to have taken on almost as much authority and responsibility as Blade himself. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I think we both know that you wanted power and influence to do good in the world. Business was just a means to an end; but now that you're there, you can do so much more if you invest your efforts in the Shepherds."</div>' 'autogenerated_68828'>><<set $rielharden += 3>><<setriel +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You're a businessman, through and through: you were born for that. If you'd never met us, you'd go on running the world as the leader of Merchants Guild. Don't let anything get in the way of your personal goals and ambitions."</div>' 'autogenerated_68829'>><<set $rielharden -= 3>><<setriel +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I can't decide for you: this has to be your choice."</div>' 'autogenerated_68830'>><<setriel -5>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Riel makes a quiet humming sound, clearly digesting what you've said. He ducks his chin, a gesture of appreciation... but his eyes are thoughtful and remote. "That is an excellent point," he muses—though he doesn't say much more beyond that. <<include 'rieltalk6'>>

Riel makes a quiet humming sound, clearly digesting what you've said. He ducks his chin, a gesture of appreciation... but his eyes are remote and calculating. "That is an excellent point," he muses—though he doesn't say much more beyond that. <<include 'rieltalk6'>>

Riel sighs heavily, but nods in resignation. "I know." <<include 'rieltalk6'>>

Riel glances over as you carefully pick up an instrument that looks like a blue, iridescent marble attached to a thin silver chain. "Ah," he says, making his way to your side as you hold it up to the light. This close, he smells of something clean and refreshing, light soap and expensive scent, green tea and juniper with a hint of citrus. "One of my pet projects. I'm working on a device that would allow Shepherds in the field to communicate with each other—or with home base—instantaneously. It's rather like the far-speaking Mages utilize, but compressed into this marble and transportable and mobile. The idea would be that you could insert this piece into your ear, and your voice would be transmitted to whoever held the corresponding counterpart; vice-versa, you would be able to hear them, as well. My design has fundamental flaws, however; it's such a small piece, and so round, that the marble falls out during trial runs. Unless officers would be willing to pierce their ears and have these dangling as earrings, I haven't come up with a feasible method of keeping them both inconspicuous and not so easy to lose..." <<nobr>><<if ($rielromanceflag >= 10)>> He reaches over to take the device from you, but you shift to hand it over to him in the same instant, and his fingers brush against the underside of your bare wrist in a surprisingly intimate gesture. It feels as if an electric spark runs through you in that moment, a kind of buzz emanating from the point of contact. Riel shifts hurriedly back, and when you lift your eyes to his, you know he felt it, too: a kind of tense, bright energy thrumming beneath your skin and along your bones. He clears his throat, looking away as he subtly shakes out his hand, clenching and unclenching his fingers once before he continues talking in a perfectly steady voice. He acts as if nothing had occurred at all, so you decide to follow suit. <<else>> He reaches over to take the device from you, delicately and conscientiously avoiding touching your fingers, as he continues to describe the various trials and errors that have arisen from his experiment. <</if>><</nobr>> <<nobr>><<if ($intelligence >= 60)>> You spend some time discussing his interesting invention, offering up your own suggestions and challenges—which clearly impresses Riel—before he turns to you with a chagrined smile. <<else>> You spend some time discussing his interesting invention, though most of what he says completely flies over your head, before he finally turns to you with a chagrined smile. <</if>><</nobr>> "But you didn't venture all the way to Whitestone to listen to me drone on," he says, with a knowing, rueful expression. "Though I appreciate your monumental patience, I have been a very poor host. Would you like to come up to the house for tea?" "But didn't you want to keep working on your engine?" you ask, glancing around at the workshop as he guides you out. "You took the day off to work on it, it seemed like." Riel smiles sidelong at you. "I've reached a dead end; a break would do me some good," he answers amiably. "But perhaps more essentially than that: I'm beginning to understand that some things in life are more important." <<include "rielover">>

<<setriel +5>>You find Riel, of course, in his office, deep in annoyed conversation with his assistant Aerin, though you mainly only have their voices to go by: Riel's bent dark head is hardly visible from behind the stack of papers on his enormous desk. "Please, Riel," the pink-haired Mage begs, gifting you a relieved glance when you sidle through the door, "you need to take a break. You've been working non-stop for <i>hours</i>. You need fresh air. An hour or two would…" "An hour?" Although Riel's tone is sharp with irritation, he still doesn't lift his head from his work; it's unclear he even noticed that you walked into the room. "Really, Aerin, first it was an inducement to take a meal—which I did—and then it was a request for me to sleep…" "Which you didn't," his assistant shoots back accusingly. "You know as well as I do that there's no <i>time</i>," Riel continues in aggrieved tones, his pen scratching furiously at whatever unseen paper he's working on. "There is the Eleraim deal to consider, these vendor contracts to review, not to mention the budget commission, the committee to audit administrative inefficiencies, the guild meeting, and that treatise I've been asked to consult on before the Tuvani summit—" "Oh, I am well aware," Aerin returns, tapping the clipboard in her arms emphatically. "But the physicker said you should be taking a—a constitutional every hour—" "Please. That 'physicker' was a patent hack. He was talking about my <i>humors</i>—" "All right, but Elemnestra in our own infirmary agreed! You don't think <i>she's</i> a hack, do you?" A long pause, filled only by the scribblings and scratchings of Riel's pen. Aerin lets out an outraged huff. "<i>Riel</i>?" Silence. Riel's assistant turns to you with an air of supreme aggravation. "This is what happens when I make a logical point he can't argue against. He simply pretends he can't hear me." Riel lifts his head to see who she's talking to—so he didn't notice your arrival, after <<nobr>><<if $rielromanceflag >= 10>> all—before something like faint embarrassment registers on his face. "<<c firstname>>." He half-rises from his chair, as if to greet you, before his eyes drop back down to his work and he sits again. "Please… make yourself comfortable." He waves vaguely towards the chair across from him, clearing his throat a tad awkwardly. Aerin's eyes narrow as her gaze darts back and forth between the two of you for a moment. <<else>> all—though he only lifts his brows at you in faint acknowledgment before his gaze drops back down to his work. <</if>><</nobr>> "It's not that I <i>can't</i> argue against you," he adds crisply to Aerin. "It's that I'm choosing not to. I don't have the time." Aerin turns to you with a beseeching glance, mouthing, <i>Take him on a walk!</i> <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You need to take better care of your health, Riel. The Shepherds can't have you dropping dead in the prime of your youth."</div>' 'rielpersuade1'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Whatever you're working on can wait, Riel. Nothing's more important than your wellbeing."</div>' 'rielpersuade2'>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You won't take a quick stroll around with me, Riel? It'd be a way for us to spend some time together. Weren't you just telling me that you realize some things are more important than work?"</div>' 'rielpersuade3'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Shake your head at her. You're not getting involved in this.</div>' 'aerinblackmail'>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setloyal -5>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Riel makes an impatient tsking sound. "'Dropping dead,'" he echoes, "is an absurd exaggeration. My wits are perfectly intact, and I can work. What about that indicates a state of non-health? Do I seem an overwhelmed, disheveled drudge to you?" You look at him critically. Although it's true that Riel looks as meticulously and ruthlessly perfect as ever, his hair immaculately styled and not a wrinkle to be seen on his clothes, there is the fact that his skin is ghostly-pale from a lack of time spent outdoors, there are perpetual dark circles under his eyes from a lack of sleep, and his body subsists largely on sweets, khav, and tea to maintain his energy. The effects might be more invisible on him, but none of that can be good for his health. <<include "rielpersuadeconstitutional">>

Riel makes an impatient tsking sound. "My wellbeing," he echoes, "is perfectly intact. I am the picture of health. Do I seem ill or scattered to you? An overwhelmed, disheveled mess?" You look at him critically. Although it's true that Riel looks as meticulously and ruthlessly perfect as ever, his hair immaculately styled and not a wrinkle to be seen on his clothes, there is the fact that his skin is ghostly-pale from a lack of time spent outdoors, there are perpetual dark circles under his eyes from a lack of sleep, and his body subsists largely on sweets, khav, and tea to maintain his energy. The effects might be more invisible on him, but none of that can be good for his health. <<include "rielpersuadeconstitutional">>

Riel casts you an unimpressed glance, <<nobr>><<if $rielromanceflag >= 10>> though something more appreciative glints deep in his ice-blue eyes. <<else>> glance. <</if>><</nobr>> "I wasn't expecting you to use that against me so soon," he grumbles. <<nobr>><<if ($rielromanceflag >= 10) or ($riel >= 70)>> He glances at you again. "And as much as I enjoy your company, <<c firstname>>, there are other, more meaningful ways for us to spend time together. Look, I'll schedule it right this instant." He reaches for his desktop calendar. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "aerinblackmail">>

Aerin's eyes narrow further before she says through her teeth, "Riel…" He pauses and glances up at her tone. "You're going on a walk with <<c firstname>>," Aerin says, "or I'll tell everyone that you…" She leans forward to whisper something into Riel's ear. <<nobr>><<if ($rielromanceflag >= 12) and ($highestromance is "riel")>> The look of shocked, appalled outrage that crosses Riel's face at whatever she says next would be comical if it wasn't so outright murderous. Riel's head whips around to glare at his assistant with a remonstrative glower, as if to say, <i>You wouldn't dare</i>, but she merely tightens her lips resolutely and folds her arms. <<else>> Riel twists his head to glare at her. "You wouldn't." <br><br> Aerin folds her arms resolutely. "Oh, I would." <br><br> You glance back and forth between the two of them. "You would what?" <br><br> "She'd write to all of the young ladies whose families have sent me marriage proposals," Riel growls, "and tell them all I'd be happy to meet their hopeful brides." <br><br> You can't help but suppress a grin at the thought of that. <</if>><</nobr>> Finally, Riel rises from his desk and yanks on a pair of gloves, snatching up his walking stick as he growls under his breath, "The gods protect us from assistants who would blackmail their employers! <<c firstname>>?" He circles around his desk, gives you a courteous bow as he reaches for his coat, and the two of you sweep out together as Riel throws a glare back at the triumphant Aerin. <<page_break "Next" "rielconstitutional">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if ($charisma >= 65)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Charm him. "Of course you don't, Riel. You're the picture of vitality. But don't you agree that taking breaks can help you be more productive afterwards? I often find that I have fresher perspectives on a problem after a walk..."</div>' 'rielpersuade_success1'>><<setcharisma +1>><<setriel +1>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($charisma < 65)>><div class="inactive-item">Charm him. "Of course you don't, Riel. You're the picture of vitality. But don't you agree that taking breaks can help you be more productive afterwards? I often find that I have fresher perspectives on a problem after a walk..."</div><</if>> <<if ($intelligence >= 65)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Appeal to his rationale. "You know as well as I do that physical appearance has nothing to do with health. This is for your long-term wellbeing. Fresh air and exercise is good for you, and there's no denying that."</div>' 'rielpersuade_success2'>><<setintelligence +1>><<setriel +1>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($intelligence < 65)>><div class="inactive-item">Appeal to his rationale. "You know as well as I do that physical appearance has nothing to do with health. This is for your long-term wellbeing. Fresh air and exercise is good for you, and there's no denying that."</div><</if>> <<if ($cunning >= 65)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Lie to him. "If you won't do it for yourself, do it for me. I needed your advice on something, and I'd prefer to walk instead of talking here in your office..."</div>' 'rielpersuade_success3'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($cunning < 65)>><div class="inactive-item">Lie to him. "If you won't do it for yourself, do it for me. I needed your advice on something, and I'd prefer to walk instead of talking here in your office..."</div><</if>> <<if ($courage >= 65)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Bully him. "Riel, so help me, if you don't come willingly I'll just drag you out by the ear..."</div>' 'rielpersuade_fail'>><<setriel -10>><<set $rielromanceflag -= 10>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($courage < 65)>><div class="inactive-item">Bully him. "Riel, so help me, if you don't come willingly I'll just drag you out by the ear..."</div><</if>> <<if ($rielromanceflag >= 10)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Flirt with him. "If not for yourself, do it for me, Riel. I have my own personal reasons for wanting you around for a long time to come."</div>' 'rielpersuade_flirt'>><<setriel +1>><<set $rielstatus to "Your opinion holds greater sway with him than anyone else's.">><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Shrug at Aerin. You don't have anything to add.</div>' 'aerinblackmail'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Riel narrows his eyes at you for a long moment. Then he reluctantly rises. "Fine," he grumbles. "Your statement is sound, <<c firstname>>. But I'm <i>only</i> doing it to renew my energy for the push afterwards." He throws a pointed look at Aerin, who rolls her eyes. Then he circles around his desk, gives you a courteous bow as he reaches for his coat, and the two of you sweep out together as Riel throws a glare back at the triumphant Aerin. <<page_break "Next" "rielconstitutional">>

Riel narrows his eyes at you for a long moment. Then he reluctantly rises. "Fine," he grumbles. "Your statement is sound, <<c firstname>>. But if I do this, I shan't be pestered about it for the rest of the day." He throws a pointed look at Aerin, who rolls her eyes. Then he circles around his desk, gives you a courteous bow as he reaches for his coat, and the two of you sweep out together as Riel throws a glare back at the triumphant Aerin. <<page_break "Next" "rielconstitutional">>

Riel narrows his eyes at you. "Really, <<c firstname>>, a little lie like that is hardly proper motivation." Then he shakes his head. "But I suppose, if you felt the need to lie at all, I can see how obstinate you think I'm being." He rises reluctantly. "Fine. But if I do this, I shan't be pestered about it for the rest of the day." He throws a pointed look at Aerin, who rolls her eyes. Then he circles around his desk, gives you a courteous bow as he reaches for his coat, and the two of you sweep out together as Riel throws a glare back at the triumphant Aerin. <<page_break "Next" "rielconstitutional">>

Riel narrows his eyes at you. "I don't take kindly to threats, <<c firstname>>," he says, his tone nominally polite but something about its tenor acid and sharp. "Though I suppose if you feel you have to resort to them, I can see how obstinate you think I'm being." He begins to turn back to his paperwork. <<include "aerinblackmail">>

<<nobr>><<if $gender is "male">> <<set $rielromanceflag += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> The both of them do a double-take at that; Riel gifts you a curious glance from beneath his dark lashes, and Aerin's mouth forms an 'o' of intrigued surprise as she glances between the both of you. There must be something in your gaze that Riel finds hard to resist, because after a moment, he clears his throat and rises, adjusting his cravat in the careful manner of a solicitous servant being summoned by a beloved master. Almost meekly now, he gives you a courteous bow out of the office as he reaches for his coat, and the two of you sweep out of the office with Aerin gawking after you like you'd just raised someone from the dead. <<page_break "Next" "rielconstitutional">>

The two of you step out into a frigid wind, forcing you to hunch your shoulders and tighten the fastenings on your cloaks. Riel's expression sours further, though he doesn't complain as you decide to take a walk to a nearby park to stretch your legs and get some fresh air. There's a certain moodiness to the way he swings his cane as he walks, though; though his conversation is perfectly engaged and pleasant towards you—<i>you</i> are not the object of his ire, it's clear—you can't help but feel the genius is sulking, a little. You work your way towards the park, talking about the goings-on around the Order and the latest book you're reading, but you catch the way Riel scowls when a broad wet leaf slaps into his pant leg, blown by the inhospitable wind. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Hide a smile. "I never knew the famed Merchant Leader of Haven could sulk. It's sort of cute."</div>' 'rielcute'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Roll your eyes. "I never knew you could be so petulant! First we have to drag you away from your desk like a child, and now you're acting like a toddler throwing a tantrum."</div>' 'rielpetulant'>><<setriel -10>><<set $rielromanceflag to 0>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setcharisma -5>><<setcourage +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Peer around at him. "What's bothering you, Riel?"</div>' 'rielbothered'>><<setriel +1>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $rielromanceflag >= 10>> <<set $rielromanceflag += 1>> <<if $rielstatus is not "Your opinion holds greater sway with him than anyone else's.">> <<set $rielstatus to "You're starting to see different sides of him that no one else sees.">> <</if>><</if>><</nobr>> Riel lets out a disbelieving snort, though it seems to be one of amusement. "I believe that's the first time anyone has ever called me anything close to 'cute.'" "To your face, maybe. Or what about when you were a child?" "Hardly even then. I was exceedingly serious and mannered in my demeanor. The most common descriptors for me were 'precocious' or—behind my back—'unnerving.'" Still, he smiles slightly as you walk, either at your comment or the memory it invoked, and it's clear the tension drains a little from his shoulders. <<include "rielexplains">>

The look Riel cuts you is sharp with affront. "It is <i>because</i> you treat me like a child that I'm incensed, <<c firstname>>," he returns scathingly. "I know you and Aerin have good intentions, but I am a grown man. I don't need to be hauled this way and that for the 'good of my health.' If I choose to keep working, I should be allowed to." A brooding silence falls over you both at that. <<include "rielexplains">>

Riel opens his mouth for a moment, pauses, and then closes it again—demonstrating a rare loss of words for one of Haven's most articulate speakers. <<include "rielexplains">>

Then, when you pause at the entrance of the park to admit a large group of chattering schoolchildren ahead of you—there's a nice rambling path around a large duck pond, sheltered by avenues of wide-leafed, shivering trees—Riel adds, grinding the tip of his cane into the dust: "I… apologize if I've been churlish, <<c firstname>>. It's not personal to you or Aerin, I promise." At your glance, he continues, "I told you last time that my upbringing was… oppressive, that my parents didn't allow me to leave the house much. At all, really." You nod, remembering how he described himself as a prisoner of their household. "Because they wanted you to take over the family business, right?" He tilts his head in concession. "That was the main motivation for it all, yes. It was about control, about pruning me ruthlessly into the person they wanted me to be: someone who had absolutely no choice but to devote himself to learning the trade and serving our family's trading house, because he didn't have anything else." He frowns at some distant, ugly memory. "But for the majority of my childhood—up until I was around fourteen—they never quite framed it this way. If I knew I was being confined for the purposes of furthering the family business, then naturally I would resent that very business and refuse to serve it, no? So what they told me instead—<i>convinced</i> me of, and who was I to argue with them?—was that I was too frail and sickly to leave the house. That they were confining me there and denying me the company of other people for my own good. <i>That</i> was the insidious nature of their control. It wasn't just that they were oppressing me; it was that I was told I was <i>too ill</i> to even interact with the outside world, and what they were doing to me was out of <i>love</i>. And I bought the whole lie for my entire life, without ever once questioning it." He stabs at a swirling red leaf with the tip of his cane, viciously. "And so I'm afraid that questions and remonstrations—even well-meaning ones—over my health are… a sore subject for me. It was used to control me for a long time, and I now have a long history of viewing myself as a weak, sickly, fragile boy who had to be coddled and fussed over and protected from his own whims, lest he hurt or embarrass himself by overexerting his flawed body." You nod slowly in understanding. "So of course you wouldn't like it when Aerin chides and pushes you over your health. It feels like the same thing your parents did, only she's pushing you to go <i>out</i> rather than stay <i>in</i>." Riel sighs. "Yes, and I owe her an apology for my behavior, of course. None of it is her fault, and I know she's motivated by a sincere concern over my wellbeing. But… it does chafe my sense of independence, of autonomy, which I have been so hard-pressed to develop." He sends you a flat look. "I seem intent on proving that I am both stronger than others give me credit for, and mulish enough to decide my own lifestyle without being badgered into it for the good of my health. Hence why I'm so stubborn to keep working, I suppose." <<include "rielexplains2">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"The irony of it all being, of course, that you then choose unhealthy ways to prove to everyone just how strong and fit and un-frail you are."</div>' 'rielirony'>><<setriel +1>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"That makes sense. I suppose I would do the same thing. I always tend to get stubborn when others tell me what to do."</div>' 'rielsame'>><<setloyal -1>><<setriel +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"That's horrible, what your parents did. Of course it would leave its mark on you."</div>' 'rielparents'>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"But what about when you have a partner, a family of your own, Riel? Part of your duties to them will be to take care of yourself."</div>' 'rielpartner'>><<setriel +3>><<setloyal +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"It's not like any of us <i>want</i> to boss you around. We just worry about you."</div>' 'autogenerated_68831'>><<setriel +1>><<setloyal +1>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Riel lets out a long sigh. "I know," he says quietly. He gives you a small smile and a bow of his head, a fencer's salute to an opponent who's battled him to a standstill. <<include 'rielclimb'>>

Riel's quirk in rueful acceptance. "Yes, I see how illogical it all is," he says dryly. "I suppose I must endeavor to put my pride aside and make wiser choices." <<include "rielclimb">>

Riel's lips quirk. <<nobr>><<if $loyal < 50>> "Yes, I had noticed that," he notes, amused. "I daresay we're not alone in that impulse, either. There does seem to be a defiant streak running through the Shepherds." <<else>> "Really? I wouldn't have thought that. Well, I daresay we're not alone in that impulse. There does seem to be a defiant streak running through the Shepherds." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "rielclimb">>

Riel gives an unhappy grimace and doesn't say anything more for the moment. <<include "rielclimb">>

<<nobr>><<if $rielromanceflag >= 10>> <<set $rielromanceflag += 2>> <</if>><</nobr>> Riel is quiet for a moment, mulling that over. "My partner…" The thoughtful way he says it makes it sound like he's never said the word aloud before. Fittingly, a gaggle of children choose that exact moment to cut across your path, laughing and shrieking as they're chased by one of their comrades with a stick. <<nobr>><<if $rielromanceflag >= 12>> You look up from watching their activities to find Riel watching <i>you</i>—his blue gaze pensive and almost calculating. <</if>><</nobr>> "I suppose," he says diplomatically, "I would learn to put their needs first, and if that included my having a more… sustained, temperate lifestyle, that would be something I'd have to pursue." <<nobr>><<if $rielromanceflag >= 12>> He flexes his hands slightly, almost a nervous gesture. "Though truth be told, the thought almost unnerves me. I already have to keep my own personal ambition in check. The thought of having someone else to occupy my thoughts and fuel my admittedly-overgrown motivations… I fear I would be quite possessive. Apt to do whatever it took to protect my family and better their prospects… and I'm already accused of being over-zealous when it's just about myself and my own personal gain. With a family, I fear the problem might become four-fold." His lips quirk. "What if my attachments ended up <i>magnifying</i> my bad habits, rather than alleviating them?" <br><br> You hadn't quite thought of it like that; trust Riel to twist your original argument back in on itself. "Whatever your ambitions, the best way to serve your family would to be around for them in the long run," you remind him. "They won't thank you if they're rich and you're ill from overwork." <br><brr> "Hmm," Riel says. "Yes, there is that. Yes, you're right. I'd have to reform." <</if>><</nobr>> Then he gives you a slightly wicked smile. "But your point is irrelevant, <<c firstname>>. I don't have a partner or a family at the present moment." His implication is clear: <i>So what then is preventing me from working to the bone, day and night, right now?</i> <<nobr>><<if (($compassionate >= 70) and ($loyal >= 70)) or ($riel >= 70) or ($rielromanceflag >= 12)>> <<set $rielstatus to "You've grown closer over time.">> <br><br> "But you do," you prod patiently. "Think of the Shepherds as your family. We need you just the same. We care about you just the same. If not for yourself, look after your health for us." <br><br> Riel's triumphant look fades into one that seems genuinely startled, as if he never imagined this line of questioning going this way. Then he looks away and coughs. "Ah," he mutters, patting the pockets of his coat down in a preoccupied manner and clearly at a loss of what else to say. "Yes. Quite." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "rielclimb">>

The gravel path takes you up a large, steep knoll, its grass crunchy and gray in the dry chill, and you politely don't acknowledge the fact that Riel is slightly winded by the time you get more than halfway up the slope. After a few moments of leaning on his cane, trying not to puff for breath, the merchant leader adds, his voice very dry: "There is the <i>other</i> reason why I don't take many breaks, you know. I have to keep up with the rest of you Shepherds. Prove my worth in other ways, as it were." "What do you mean?" you ask him, pausing to let him catch his breath as you finally crest the top of the hill. "Well," Riel says slowly, "it does feel silly to take breaks when I have a desk job and Shepherd officers risk their bodies and lives in the field every day. It feels… privileged, overwrought. And…" He makes an impatient gesture. "I wish I could do more to help. Of course, my constitution <i>is</i> frail. At least frailer than most recruits who join the Order. It's what prevents me from taking on a role as an active agent, someone who's truly contributing to the greater good—the way you and the others do, the way you did with Clochus. And so, being asked to take breaks from my work as an administrative bureaucrat seems a bit galling. I'm being pelted with dire warnings that my body will break down if I don't take a walk, when agents like you are…" Your eyes catch for a long moment. "Well, I hardly need to enumerate the sacrifices you make without complaint. You can eradicate Faceless Lords and remain unconscious from your exertions for several days—and yet here you are. It feels diminishing to feel that not only must I accept that I'm not one of you, that I can't keep up with you and help you when you embark on these dangerous missions, but that I'm not even strong enough to do what I think I <i>can</i> do. That my body needs to take breaks even from <i>that</i>. From <i>paperwork</i>." He falls silent again and uses his cane to knock some pebbles moodily from the path. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I had no idea any of this weighed on you."</div>' 'rielweighed'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Do you want to become a field agent? If you're interested in it, I'm sure something could be done..."</div>' 'rielfield'>><<setriel -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I understand. I can see how that would be frustrating. Being stuck at home while the rest of us are out there, and not even being allowed to do <i>that</i>."</div>' 'rielfrustrating'>><<setriel +1>><</link>> <<if ($compassionate >= 75)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"You're not weak, Riel. You're one of the strongest people I know, and I have nothing but the highest respect for you. Your strength just takes a different form, but that doesn't mean it's no less needed. You <i>are</i> contributing to the greater good, just as you are."</div>' 'rielstrong'>><<setriel +5>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"But field officers have a duty to preserve their health just as much as you do, you know. They know the importance of taking breaks and not pushing themselves too hard, or dire mistakes get made."</div>' 'rielduty'>><<setriel +3>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<set $rielstatus to "He confides in you.">>Riel makes an abstract gesture, almost as if to wave the comment away. "Many things weigh on me," he mutters. "It is not that I don't see my own value, of course. I know the Shepherds need me in the capacity I serve in now. But it's hard to stand shoulder to shoulder with… soldiers and heroes… and convince myself that we're deserving of the same respect. Alas, we all have our roles." <<nobr>><<if ($rielromanceflag >= 12) or ($riel >= 70)>> He falls silent for another moment, looking at you with his circumspect blue gaze. Then he adds, more softly, "It is hard on us, <<c firstname>>. I don't know if the field agents realize how hard—having to stay at home while we watch <<if $rielromanceflag >= 12>> the… people we care about… heading off into the great unknown while we hang back and attend to the smaller but no less vital duties. Waiting with bated breath for you to come home, having no idea what's going on out there. There are… many nights when Shery and I sit up and try to distract ourselves from our worst, wandering thoughts." <<else>> our friends and comrades heading off into the great unknown while we hang back and attend to the smaller but no less vital duties. Waiting with bated breath for you to come home, having no idea what's going on out there. There are… many nights when Shery and I sit up and try to distract ourselves from our worst, wandering thoughts." <</if>> He shakes his head. "So it seems the least I can do is to get my paperwork done at a suitable pace, instead of simply… loitering. Waiting idle while everyone else is off doing something more substantive." <<include "butnottothepointofkillingyourself">> <<else>> <<include "rielwalk">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"But not to the point of killing yourself, surely."</div>' 'rielkilling'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I understand. It's how you can feel useful and contributive."</div>' 'rielcontributive'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I worry about you when I'm away, too."</div>' 'rielworry'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

He tilts his head. "Why not, when my compatriots are out there, in danger of getting themselves killed?" he asks softly. <<nobr>><<if $rielromanceflag >= 12>> His eyes are soft and thoughtful on you as he says it. <</if>><</nobr>> Then he looks away. "But I know what you mean. No, I won't be foolishly self-destructive. These are just some of the reasons for why I <i>have been</i> behaving this way. A defense and an explanation rather than a declaration of future intent, if you will." <<include "rielwalk">>

Riel taps the head of his cane. "Precisely." <<include "rielwalk">>

<<nobr>><<if $rielromanceflag >= 10>> <<set $rielromanceflag += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> Riel smiles at you, his blue gaze unusually warm. "Of course you do," he says with a hint of humor in his quiet voice. "That's the kind of person you are. But, please: concentrate on getting yourself home safely." <<include "rielwalk">>

Riel snorts, a sound of incredulity and amusement. "Hardly. I'm only expressing my... dissatisfactions, as it were. But I have no actual desire to be a soldier or a spy; only to contribute <i>as much as</i> one. I'm not convinced I do at the present moment." "Hence why you push yourself so hard," you say slowly. He nods. "Precisely." Then his lips quirk up. "Besides, let us not delude ourselves. My talents do not lie in athleticism. Any attempts to train me to join the Lunar Corps would only end in grave disaster." He makes a vague gesture towards his slim body, how walking up a steep hill put him slightly out of breath. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I don't know. You could always take up jogging."</div>' 'rieljogging'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"All right, perhaps you wouldn't be a soldier—but you should at least learn self-defense."</div>' 'rieldefense'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Never say never, Riel. You never know what you're capable of until you believe in yourself and try."</div>' 'rielnever'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

The face of disgust Riel makes at that makes you burst out laughing. <<include "rielwalk">>

"We're in a dangerous line of work, and things could still happen at home," you say, remembering that Haven itself is still rife with demons. "You could learn to handle a firearm, at least." Abruptly, Riel's manner turns more serious. "Don't worry. I know how to fire a gun," he tells you gravely. Something about the lethal steel in your voice tells you not to press the matter further. <<include "rielwalk">>

"As you say, <<c firstname>>," Riel says dryly. "I will begin training for the next gladiator tournament and let you know how my progress goes." <<include "rielwalk">>

"Just so," Riel says with an approving nod. "It may be childish, but I'm glad you can see things from my perspective, anyway." <<include "rielwalk">>

<<nobr>><<if $rielromanceflag >= 10>> <<set $rielromanceflag += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> Riel gives you a small but genuine smile, his blue eyes half-lidded—it's as grateful and relaxed a look as he tends to wear around any one person. "I appreciate your kind words, <<c firstname>>," he murmurs, tipping his head. "They mean more than you know. I've thought it all myself, of course—but it certainly strikes the ear differently, hearing it from you." <<nobr>><<if $rielromanceflag >= 12>> <br><br> His hand drifts up to grip your arm lightly, an affectionate gesture. "Thank you." His touch leaves a lingering warmth that makes your skin tingle, even through the thick wool of your coat. He hesitates, then adds, "I... hold you in very high regard. I hope you know that." He glances away, picking something invisible off of his wrist cuff. "No matter how mulish I may act when you come to drag me away for a walk." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "rielwalk">>

"I once saw Blade flay a recruit alive for taking too many shifts of guard duty back-to-back," you add, "even though it was out of zeal for the job." You look pointedly at him. "We share similar responsibilities, you know, even if it doesn't seem that way. Lunar Corps officers complete missions, while Solar Corps agents keep the Order running. We're <i>both</i> important, and we <i>both</i> have to restrain ourselves from attacking our problems too vigorously, lest we burn ourselves out." Riel smiles drolly. "Your logic is effective," he concedes. "Would that Aerin endeavored to use it rather than browbeat me." "As if you ever give her the chance." "…Yes, fine, I take your point." <<include "rielwalk">>

You slowly make your way down from the hill and begin the other half of the circuit around the duck pond, its dull gray surface ruffled by the wind. Even the ducks seem to huddle together for warmth. Still, it seems the activity has revitalized Riel; the color's back in his cheeks, and his eye is a bit brighter, his posture a little straighter. He catches your assessing gaze and smiles reluctantly. "Yes, fine, sometimes a constitutional <i>is</i> bracing," he admits. "I will <i>try</i> to take more of them in the future. When I remember to." But then he frowns sidelong at you. "Though I don't know why everyone worries about <i>my</i> health. What about yours?" "What about mine?" you ask, surprised. Riel is peering closely at you, with that manner of an exacting teacher regarding a student. "Would you say you have healthy habits?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Of course." You make sure to rest and recuperate just as hard as you work.</div>' 'rielbalanced'>><<setriel +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Of course." You rise at dawn, fit in at least three hours of training, one hour of study, another hour for chores, and so on and so forth. Could an unhealthy person do all of that?</div>' 'rielhypocrite'>><<setriel +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Oh, no, I'm horrible." You definitely overwork yourself, but somehow you can't bring yourself to stop.</div>' 'rielhorrible'>><<setriel +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I suppose I rest enough, but I have other unhealthy habits..."</div>' 'rielhabits'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Are you serious?" You're a shambling wreck of poor health, barely held together by a dogged perseverance to survive that borders on feverish.</div>' 'rielwreck'>><<set $traumatized += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Oh, yeah, overworking is <i>not</i> a problem for me." In fact, you might even be accused of taking it <i>too</i> easy at times...</div>' 'rieleasy'>><<setriel -3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Riel sighs. "Yes, you live a perfectly balanced lifestyle," he mutters. "Of course you do…" <<include "rielendwalk">>

<<nobr>><<if $rielromanceflag >= 10>> <<set $rielromanceflag += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> "Hypocrite," Riel mutters darkly to himself. "Utter hypocrite…" <<include "rielendwalk">>

<<nobr>><<if $rielromanceflag >= 10>> <<set $rielromanceflag += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> "Exactly," Riel mutters darkly. "And every time you pass out from your latest world-changing miracle, all of us are stirred into a panic that lasts several days. We have to check on you to make sure you're breathing, you know…" <<include "rielendwalk">>

Smoking, drinking, and junk food are all common players in your wheelhouse, you acknowledge guiltily. Riel is looking at you from the corner of his eyes. "Exactly," he mutters darkly. "The irony of this conversation seems striking in light of that fact, doesn't it?…" <<include "rielendwalk">>

Riel looks at you from out of the corner of his eyes, making a satisfied sound in his throat. "<i>Precisely</i>. So why is the focus on me when <i>you're</i> the one in desperate need of reformation? Every time you pass out from your latest world-changing miracle, all of us are stirred into a panic that lasts several days. We have to check on you to make sure you're breathing, you know…" <<include "rielendwalk">>

<<nobr>><<if $rielromanceflag >= 5>> <<set $rielromanceflag -= 5>> <</if>><</nobr>> Riel snorts to himself. "We prove opposites once again," he mutters. <<include "rielendwalk">>

You spend the rest of your stroll walking together at a sedate pace and having a more leisurely, lively conversation than the reluctant, preoccupied tone you first started with. Riel visibly relaxes in your presence, talking more animatedly and smiling more freely, and you can see him coming to life once he has a chance to step out of his own mind and dogmatic routine a little. He promises again to make reparations to poor Aerin, and to take better care of himself, though he stresses that it's far more important that you do the same yourself. By the time it's time to turn back to the compound—and the rest of Riel's work—you have more confidence that he won't simply be a candle burning itself at both ends… but more of a light in the dark for others to follow. <<nobr>><<if $rielromanceflag >= 13>> Cheered by the prospect, your way back home feels warmer than your advent to the park. You notice, however, that Riel keeps flexing his gloved hands as the frigid, blistering wind increases its bite, as if to prevent them from cramping up from the cold. At your discerning glance, he smiles slightly and says, "When one spends hours holding a quill, one must take pains to ensure his joints stay limber. I'm mindful of that much, at least." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Take his hands to warm them. "Here, let me help."</div>' 'rielwarmhands'>><<setriel +5>><<set $rielromanceflag += 5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Nod sagely. "Very good."</div>' 'rieldelivery'>><<setriel +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Glance away indifferently. "Whatever works for you."</div>' 'rieldelivery'>><<set $rielromanceflag -= 10>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <<else>> Cheered by the prospect, your way back home feels warmer than your advent to the park. But then something happens. <br><br> <<include "rieldelivery">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<set $rielstatus to "A certain intimacy has sprung up between you.">> Riel draws to a surprised halt as you move in front of him, gently taking his gloved hands in yours. He goes very still as you wrap your fingers around his, rubbing the pads of his fingers and his knuckles to impart some of your own natural warmth. Even through the layers between you, it's an intimate gesture, and you know Riel isn't used to physical contact like this. Still, he not only permits it—he seems to lean hungrily towards you, as if drawn in by your warmth. You glance up to find Riel watching you, a strangely rapt expression in his blue eyes. The clouds of your breaths seem to mingle together as you stand there on the sidewalk, staring at each other. Riel's eyes rove over your face, seeming to take in every feature. His lips part slightly as his gaze darts to your lips, then drop back down to your clasped hands. "Do you take such care with everyone?" he asks quietly. It's hard to read his tone: he could be wry or awkward, it's difficult to say. Your thumbs rub against the heel of his slim palms, and he seems to shiver. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"No. Only with you."</div>' 'rielonlyyou'>><<setcourage +1>><<set $rielromanceflag += 5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I like to help my friends, what can I say?"</div>' 'rielfriends'>><<set $rielromanceflag -= 5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"These hands of yours are precious. Why shouldn't I treat them with care?"</div>' 'rielhands'>><<setcharisma +1>><<set $rielromanceflag += 3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Riel vents a sudden breath, as if you've confirmed something for him. "I see," he says softly. He is still watching your face with that same careful, almost tender watchfulness. Then he begins, "<<c firstname>>... I am not a..." He trails off, at a rare loss of words for the moment. "...A man like you... deserves... No. What I mean to ask is, how would you..." <<include "rieldelivery">>

Riel's smile seems to fade slightly, and he looks serious as he returns gravely, "Your magnanimity is vast indeed." <<include "rieldelivery">>

A rueful smirk plays around Riel's mouth. "A neat way of sidestepping the question," he notes dryly, "but extremely flattering nonetheless." Then his smile fades, and he watches you for another moment. Then he begins, "<<c firstname>>... I am not a..." He trails off, at a rare loss of words for the moment. "...A man like you... deserves... No. What I mean to ask is, how would you..." <<include "rieldelivery">>

"'Scuse me." You feel a slight bump in your shoulder as a deliveryman shuffles past you on the narrow sidewalk, barely able to see over the large wooden crate in his arms. He mutters an apology as he squeezes past you with his cargo, you and Riel step to the side to try and make more room for him, and it seems a thoroughly mundane, forgettable encounter... if not for the way Riel's gaze sharpen on the man—or whatever he's holding—as he ambles into a nearby storefront. Riel sucks in a breath as if he's been struck, but by the time you take a second look, the deliveryman has vanished inside. Still, the change in the atmosphere is palpable. Riel turns silent and wooden, the look on his face indicating that his mind is whirring like the inside of one of his great engines. You frown at him. "Riel?" The merchant leader blinks, glances at you, and then away again, clearly preoccupied by his own thoughts. "It's nothing. Let's return home." No amount of prodding thereafter will draw him out of whatever dimension his thoughts have swept him to. As you follow Riel back toward the compound, his earlier lightness of his step seems stiffened, weighed down by whatever dark ruminations are now churning through his mind. He gives you an absent bow and a thanks for your company, but his thoughts are clearly elsewhere, and as you withdraw, you can't help but feel as if he's right back in the world you just pulled him out of. Worse, the warmth of your interaction seems replaced by a different kind of tension—not the stress of everyday work, but a quiet, unhappy storm. You and Aerin exchange worried glances as Riel returns to his desk. <<include "rielover">>

<<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "dayoff">><<set $rieltime += 1>><</link>>

<<audio ":playing" fadeoverto 5 0>> <<if $sherytime is 0 and $part gte 8>> Unfortunately, it seems you've missed the opportunity to spend time with this character. <br><br> <<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "dayoff">><<set $dayoff -= 1>><</link>> <<elseif $sherytime is 0>> <<include "sheryinterlude1">> <<elseif $sherytime is 1>> <<include "sheryinterlude2">> <<elseif $sherytime is 2 and $trainingtime is 0>> <<include "sheryinterlude3">> <<elseif $sherytime is 2 and $trainingtime > 0>> Unfortunately, it seems you've missed the opportunity to spend time with this character. <br><br> <<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "dayoff">><<set $dayoff -= 1>><</link>> <<elseif $sherytime is 3>> <<include "sheryinterlude4">> <<elseif $sherytime is 4>> <<include "sheryinterlude5">> <<else>> [Sorry, this path is INCOMPLETE. Check back again when an addition is announced!] <br><br> <<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "dayoff">><<set $dayoff -= 1>><</link>> <</if>>

<<setshery +3>> It takes a long time for you to find Shery. She's squirreled away in the depths of the Shepherds' compound, rooting around in a room behind an enormous, vault-like door you've never seen before. When you call her name, the Shepherds' steward emerges from behind the door with her pale face streaked with dirt and soot. "Oh, <<c firstname>>," she breathes, a little frazzled. She adjusts her spectacles so she can see you more clearly. "Did you need something?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I just wanted to see what you were up to."</div>' 'autogenerated_68832'>><<setshery +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"What is this place?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68833'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Do I have to need something to want to see you?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68834'>><<setshery +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

She smiles briefly. "Oh, I'm just going through the Vaults." You stare. "The Vaults?" She gestures to the enormous metal door behind her; you see now that its surface is embedded with many intricate and interlocking magical locks. "I think I told you once that this compound was formerly a part of the tower owned by a great Mage? His name was Tangriel—in fact, he was Archmage of the city, long before it became known as Haven. This place was his home, and shelter to his many secrets… When the tower crumbled, this place was built on top of it, but it turns out Tangriel's Vaults were never cleared out." <<include 'sherycontinueconvo5'>>

"Well, I call it the Vaults, though I don't know the proper name for it," Shery says, gesturing. You see now that the surface of the door behind her is embedded with many intricate and interlocking magical locks. "I think I told you once that this compound was formerly a part of the tower owned by a great Mage? His name was Tangriel—in fact, he was Archmage of the city, long before it became known as Haven. This place was his home, and shelter to his many secrets… When the tower crumbled, this place was built on top of it, but it turns out Tangriel's Vaults were never cleared out." <<include 'sherycontinueconvo5'>>

<<nobr>><<if $gender is "female">> <<set $sheryromanceflag += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> Shery's mouth claps shut for a moment, and she flushes up to the very roots of her pale hair. Then she mutters, "No—no, of course not. I—I just thought you might have needed my assistance." She gestures awkwardly to the door behind her. "I was just clearing the Vaults." You stare. "The Vaults?" "Well, that's what I call them," Shery says, embarrassed. "I don't know the proper name for them." She gestures again to the door behind her, and you see now that its surface is embedded with many intricate and interlocking magical locks. "I think I told you once that this compound was formerly a part of the tower owned by a great Mage? His name was Tangriel—in fact, he was Archmage of the city, long before it became known as Haven. This place was his home, and shelter to his many secrets… When the tower crumbled, this place was built on top of it, but it turns out Tangriel's Vaults were never cleared out." <<include 'sherycontinueconvo5'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("sheryask1")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"So... that's your job? To clear them out?"</div>' 'sheryask1'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("sheryask2")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Isn't it dangerous?"</div>' 'sheryask2'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("sheryask3")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Find anything interesting?"</div>' 'sheryask3'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("sheryask4")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"What happened to this Tangriel, anyway?"</div>' 'sheryask4'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("sheryask5")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Any other secrets about this place that I should know about?"</div>' 'sheryask5'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You think you're done talking about the Vaults.</div>' 'autogenerated_68835'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

You'd rather get to know Shery herself, instead. The blonde young woman shifts a little under your gaze. <<include 'sherycomplimentconvo'>>

Shery nods. "On slow days, anyway. We might need this storage space someday, when more recruits start streaming in." "Do you think that will happen?" You think back to your own explorations of the compound: the place is so huge and mazelike that it seems impossible to think your Order might someday fill it all. Shery smiles, as if she knows your thoughts. "Well, the Commander thinks so," she answers. "And I've come to learn that he's almost always right. Besides, I've been finding some very useful things in here—things I can add to the Shepherds' equipment and armory." <<include "sherycontinueconvo5">>

"Some dead Mage's storeroom has to be filled with nasty things," you comment. "Aren't you afraid of running into something dangerous?" Shery blinks. "I suppose I never thought of it," she says. "Besides, I'm right in the heart of the compound—I can't imagine that I'd come to any harm." You decide not to tell her that it took you almost twenty minutes to even find her, let alone the fact that you couldn't hear her from outside the Vault at all. <<include "sherycontinueconvo5">>

Shery tips her head to the side, thinking about it. "A lot of magical artifacts," she says. "Some weapons that I've given over to Trouble and the Commander. Mostly lots of books and tomes, from before the Castigation." You lift your eyebrows. "Have you read any of them?" Shery suddenly flushes and looks away. "I might have had a peek…" She catches your knowing glance and blurts, "But not for any purpose the Autarchy would prosecute me for! Simple curiousity, that's all!" <<include "sherycontinueconvo5">>

Shery shakes her head. "No one knows. Apparently he just vanished one day, without any warning—and he was a great leader in the city. Apparently Haven's heyday began its decline soon after he disappeared. Some think he was murdered by political rivals, and others point to Tangriel's experiments: apparently he dabbled in some very dangerous magic, and that could have been the cause of his demise." <<include "sherycontinueconvo5">>

Shery smiles, a little self-consciously. "I imagine this place is riddled with things we should know about, but don't," she quips. "The history of Haven from before the Castigation has been lost to time." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"What a shame."</div>' 'autogenerated_68836'>><<setshery +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Maybe that's for the best."</div>' 'autogenerated_68837'>><<setshery -1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Shery nods earnestly. "I agree!" she says. "This was once a great Gifted city, the height of Mage civilization—a place full of wonders and miracles. And yet we know almost nothing about it." She twirls a strand of her hair around her finger in thought. "They say the Council of Mages here, ruled by the Archmage, could once control the weather around Haven, or hide it completely from the eyes of invaders. I imagine most of the butcheries and laundries here today are actually built on the foundations of some very fascinating ruins." She shakes her head. "But there's no way to know. To answer your question, I am aware that our particular compound is guarded by some complex wards, meant to keep out the ill-intentioned—but I don't know how they work. I'd love to find out, someday. Maybe there's something in the Vaults…" She suddenly becomes conscious that she's been talking out loud for a while and blushes, falling silent. <<include 'sherycontinueconvo5'>>

Shery looks doubtful. "You think so?" You shrug. "The past is the past for a reason. That's just the way things are." Shery frowns, thinking it over. "I just think it's a pity," she says finally. "This was once a great Gifted city, the height of Mage civilization—a place full of wonders and miracles. And yet we know almost nothing about it." She twirls a strand of her hair around her finger in thought. "They say the Council of Mages here, ruled by the Archmage, could once control the weather around Haven, or hide it completely from the eyes of invaders. I imagine most of the butcheries and laundries here today are actually built on the foundations of some very fascinating ruins." She shakes her head. "But there's no way to know. To answer your question, I am aware that our particular compound is guarded by some complex wards, meant to keep out the ill-intentioned—but I don't know how they work. I'd love to find out, someday. Maybe there's something in the Vaults…" She suddenly becomes conscious that she's been talking out loud for a while and blushes, falling silent. <<include 'sherycontinueconvo5'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("sheryfield")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Do you ever want to get out into the field?"</div>' 'sheryfield'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("sherylikesjob")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"How do you like your job here?"</div>' 'sherylikesjob'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("sheryfun")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"What do you do for fun around here?"</div>' 'sheryfun'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("sheryoverwhelmed")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Does any of this ever get... overwhelming?"</div>' 'sheryoverwhelmed'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You can't think of anything else to say.</div>' 'firstitem'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"The… field?" Shery repeats, confused. "You know, out there," you tell her, jerking your head in the direction of the compound's entrance. "Out of the dust and the darkness. Do you ever want to walk in the sunlight, get some action in—investigate some actual crimes?" Shery's eyes widen. "Oh, no!" she exclaims, shaking her head so hard her pale hair goes flying. "I've never… I mean…" She blushes, looking away. "I don't even know how to fight!" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I suppose that is important..."</div>' 'autogenerated_68838'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You should know how to protect yourself."</div>' 'autogenerated_68839'>><<setcompassionate -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"That's okay. We need people from all walks of life in the Order."</div>' 'autogenerated_68840'>><<setshery +4>><<setcompassionate +3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Shery nods, avoiding your gaze. "I would just be a burden to everyone if I were to accompany you," she says softly. <<include 'iwouldjustbeaburden'>>

"In case there's ever a breach," you say. "Everyone here should know how to fight." Shery nervously tucks her hair behind her ear. "I suppose," she murmurs. "I've never had anyone teach me." <<include 'icouldteachyou'>>

Shery beams. "I think so, too!" she answers excitedly. "There's plenty of things I can do to help, even if I can't fight!" She ducks her head shyly. "I can make sure everyone's well-fed, and comfortable, and healthy enough to fight well—I can organize things, and look after our money, and… make a home for all of us to be safe in!" You smile. "Your job is extremely important. We're lucky to have you." Shery blushes and looks at you with shining eyes. <<include 'sherycomplimentconvo'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"No, you wouldn't."</div>' 'autogenerated_68841'>><<setshery +3>><<setcompassionate +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Yes, that's true."</div>' 'autogenerated_68842'>><<setshery -3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Shery flushes even more deeply. "Thank you, <<c firstname>>," she says, shy. "You're too kind." <<include 'sherycomplimentconvo'>>

Shery hunches into herself and says nothing more. <<include 'sherycomplimentconvo'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I could teach you sometime."</div>' 'autogenerated_68843'>><<setshery +3>><<setloyal +1>><<setcompassionate +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Well, find someone. And quick."</div>' 'autogenerated_68844'>><<setshery -3>><<setloyal -1>><<setcompassionate -3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Shery seems pleased by your offer, but she only ducks her head and murmurs, "I couldn't trouble you like that, <<c firstname>>. You're busy with much more important things!" <<include 'sheryssafety'>>

Shery lowers her eyes. "I'll try…" she murmurs, deflated. <<include 'sherycomplimentconvo'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Nothing's more important than your safety."</div>' 'autogenerated_68845'>><<setshery +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"We'll see. I can make some time."</div>' 'autogenerated_68846'>><<setshery +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $gender is "female">> <<set $sheryromanceflag += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> Shery blushes deeply and looks at the floor. "Y-you're too kind, <<c firstname>>!" she blurts. Then she can't seem to manage to say anything more. <<include 'sherycomplimentconvo'>>

Shery blushes deeply. "Th-thank you," she manages. "I don't know if I'll be up to it, but it's very kind of you to offer." <<include 'sherycomplimentconvo'>>

Shery smiles. "I love it, of course!" she exclaims, bubbly with enthusiasm. "It's the best job I've ever had!" You raise your eyebrows. "What were your other jobs?" At that, Shery suddenly looks away. "Oh," she says awkwardly. "That… doesn't matter…" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Push the subject.</div>' 'autogenerated_68847'>><<setshery -1>><<setcharisma -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Let the matter drop.</div>' 'autogenerated_68848'>><<setcharisma +1>><<setshery +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Shery's face tightens into a pained expression. "I'd really rather not talk about that, Officer <<c surname>>," she says. <<include 'sherycomplimentconvo'>>

Shery smiles at your non-intrusiveness and changes the subject herself: "And how are you liking your work here, <<c firstname>>?" <<include 'workformc'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I like it well enough."</div>' 'autogenerated_68849'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I hate it."</div>' 'autogenerated_68850'>><<setcompassionate -1>><<setloyal -3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I love it!"</div>' 'autogenerated_68851'>><<setloyal +3>><<setshery +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"It's too soon to tell."</div>' 'autogenerated_68852'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm ambivalent."</div>' 'autogenerated_68853'>><</link>> <<if $shepherdsconscript is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm resentful. I still can't forget that I was forced into this..."</div>' 'autogenerated_68854'>><</link>><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

Shery beams. "I'm so glad!" she gushes. "It must be so rewarding, protecting the people, using your skills for the greater good…" Suddenly she becomes conscious of her own enthusiasm and trails off. <<include 'sherycomplimentconvo'>>

Shery's face crumples as you expound on all of your resentments about working for the Order. "Oh," she says softly. "I… I didn't know. I'm sorry." She can't seem to think of what else to say. <<include 'sherycomplimentconvo'>>

Shery beams. "I'm so glad!" she gushes. Her eyes shine with excitement. "I love waking up knowing that the work we do is protecting others, that we're using our skills for the greater good…" She's moved closer to you in her excitement and seems to become conscious of it. She looks away and takes a step back. <<include 'sherycomplimentconvo'>>

Shery nods. "I suppose it hasn't been too long since you joined," she says thoughtfully. "I understand if you need more time to settle in." <<include 'sherycomplimentconvo'>>

Shery's face falters. "I… I see," she says, her voice low now. "I'm sorry to hear that. I hope that… one day you'll feel differently." You look away. "I doubt it." An awkward silence falls over both of you. <<include 'sherycomplimentconvo'>>

Shery tilts her head, looking thoughtful. "I love to read," she says slowly, as if unused to talking about herself. "Books of all kinds, but especially"—she blushes—"romance novels. I like to sew little things here and there, too—embroidery and such. And, um… I like to go to Church?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You believe in the One-God?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68855'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Do you have any books you'd recommend?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68856'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You seem to like things that calm your mind."</div>' 'autogenerated_68857'>><<setcunning +1>><<setshery +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Shery nods, her eyes wide. "I do," she answers, her voice unusually clear. "Though I don't agree with many things the Church itself—or the Autarch—teaches… I do believe that the One-God exists, and that Xe's keeping watch over us all. That's why I go: to pray for the safety of all of you." <<include 'sheryschurch'>>

Shery blinks, then blushes fiercely. "O-oh—I'm not sure if you'd like the kind of books I read…" she begins. You raise a brow. "Why are you blushing?" Shery looks away, letting her hair hide most of her face. "N-no reason! I-I'll lend you a suitable book to read!" You smile, but don't push the topic further; she seems like she'll die of embarrassment. <<include 'sherycomplimentconvo'>>

Shery nods, as if surprised by your perceptiveness. "I suppose that's right," she says, almost wonderingly. "Things that are quiet, and nice." <<include 'thingsthatarequiet'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Like you."</div>' 'autogenerated_68858'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I like things like that, too."</div>' 'autogenerated_68859'>><<setshery +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I like more excitement in my free time."</div>' 'autogenerated_68860'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $gender is "female">> <<set $sheryromanceflag += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> Shery blushes fiercely and seems stunned into silence. "Y-y-y-yes," she stammers after a few long moments. "I s-suppose so…" She doesn't seem to know what to say. <<include 'sherycomplimentconvo'>>

"Then I think we'll get along, <<c firstname>>." <<include 'sherycomplimentconvo'>>

Shery laughs shortly. "I don't know how," she states. "Your work is already—er—exciting enough as it is!" <<include 'sherycomplimentconvo'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"That's beautiful."</div>' 'autogenerated_68861'>><<setcompassionate +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Mm-hm. I see..."</div>' 'autogenerated_68862'>><<setshery -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"That's pointless. The One-God doesn't exist."</div>' 'autogenerated_68863'>><<setfaith -30>><<setshery -5>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setcharisma -5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"We should go together sometime."</div>' 'autogenerated_68864'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Shery smiles. "Thank you," she says. "It's the least I can do to help, especially when you're all out there, risking your lives." <<include 'sherycomplimentconvo'>>

Shery smiles, but seems to notice your exceedingly-neutral answer and looks away. <<include 'sherycomplimentconvo'>>

Shery's face falters, but she remains resolute. "You're free to believe what you believe, <<c firstname>>," she says, raising her head. "And I'm free to believe what I want, too." Her tone makes it clear that it's the end of the conversation. <<include 'sherycomplimentconvo'>>

<<nobr>><<if $gender is "female">> <<set $sheryromanceflag += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> Shery looks briefly surprised, then pleased. "You're a follower, too?" she asks, unable to disguise her delight. <<include 'youreafollowertoo'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Yes, I am."</div>' 'autogenerated_68865'>><<setfaith +20>><<setshery +5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Yes, I am." <b>[LIE]</b></div>' 'autogenerated_68866'>><<setcunning +5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"No, I'm not—but I'd still like to go."</div>' 'autogenerated_68867'>><<setintelligence +3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Shery looks so excited; she even makes a motion as if to clasp your hands. "That's so amazing!" she says brightly. "Yes, let's go together!" She looks like she's looking forward to it. <<include 'sherycomplimentconvo'>>

Shery doesn't seem to notice your lie. She beams, brimming with excitement. "That's so amazing!" she gushes. "Yes, let's go together!" She looks like she's looking forward to it. <<include 'sherycomplimentconvo'>>

Shery seems to pause, as if processing this, but eventually she smiles. "I understand," she says. "Yes, we can go sometime if you'd like!" She looks like she's looking forward to it. <<include 'sherycomplimentconvo'>>

Shery tilts her head. "What do you mean?" <<nobr>><<if $heritage is "Norm">> "Well, I was raised by Norms," you tell her. "And up until a certain point in my life, I was never exposed to other Diminished, demons, magic… it was all fairytales, outlandish happenings. It could be a lot for someone like us." <br><br> Shery looks thoughtful. "I've never felt like I don't belong here," she says after a moment, simply. "I think growing up in Haven helps. It's the epicenter of all the… <i>outlandish</i> things happening in the Continent. It's never bothered me. The Autarchy and what can do is much, much scarier than any Diminished friend I've made." She hesitates. "Though I won't say there hasn't been some tension about someone like me joining up, either." <br><br> Then she seems to sense that she's treading close to dangerous territory, and falls silent. <<include "sherycomplimentconvo">> <<else>> "Being around people like us," you tell her. "Diminished, people who can set things on fire with their minds or break someone's spine with their bare hands. Surely that has to be a little intimidating?" <br><br> Shery shakes her head. "Not at all," she answers, surprised in a way that suggest she's never thought of it. "Growing up in Haven means being at the epicenter of all manner of outlandish things. I've never felt <i>threatened</i> by anyone here; the Autarchy is far scarier." She pauses. "Though I won't say there wasn't some tension about someone like me and Trouble joining up, either." <br><br> Then she seems to sense that she's treading close to dangerous territory, and falls silent. <<include "sherycomplimentconvo">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<set $sherystatus to "She gave you a special item as thanks for spending time with her.">><<set $beltofcourage to true>><<setcourage +5>><</nobr>> Shery also seems to reach the end of her easy conversational props; she fidgets for a moment in the silence. Then she seems to remember something and ducks back behind the Vault door. "I did find this," the quartermaster says, picking something up from the floor of the Vault and holding it out to you. "Maybe you can put it to use." You take it from her hands: it's a worn leather belt, simple and unadorned by nothing more than the stamp of a fierce-looking eagle. Somehow, holding it imbues you with a kind of wild energy; you feel like climbing to the top of nearest mountain and shouting. "What is this?" you ask her, incredulously. Shery smiles and nods at the belt. "It's an artifact I found in the Vault," she declares proudly. "The belt of Hraska the Brave. A great heroine of the past. It's said that wearing it will give the user Hraska's courage." "And you're just giving this to me?" Shery waves her hand. "I don't think it'll be of much use, sitting in the Shepherds' armory," she says. "Like I said, maybe you can get some value from it." You hold the belt up to your waist. "Why don't you use it?" Shery laughs, covering her mouth. It's a rare, quick kind of laugh, like a mouse darting out of shadows. "You fight Endarkened, <<c firstname>>," she tells you, her eyes glinting with humor behind her spectacles. "I clean out old closets. If it's a question of which one of us needs more courage, I would say it's you." <<include "sheryover">>

<<setshery +5>>You actually bump into Shery on the way to the Vaults. The Shepherds' quartermaster seems preoccupied, lost in thought; she's carrying a bundle of objects in her arms when you turn the corner and walk right into her. The impact barely rocks your frame, but Shery's thin body goes flying backward. The items she was holding are scattered everywhere; you catch glimpses of magical artifacts, bangles and amulets and rings. Before you can say anything, Shery scrambles up from her position on the ground and looks at you with wide eyes. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Are you all right?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68868'>><<setcompassionate +3>><<setshery +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm so sorry!"</div>' 'autogenerated_68869'>><<setcharisma +3>><<setshery +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You should watch where you're going..."</div>' 'autogenerated_68870'>><<setcompassionate -3>><<setshery -5>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"Yes," Shery blurts, fumbling around on her hands and knees. "I'm fine. I'm so sorry... I apologize, I wasn't looking..." You kneel down to help her collect each scattered artifact, one-by-one. <<include 'sheryfell'>>

"No, I'm sorry!" Shery blurts, cheeks pink. She begins to fumble around on her hands and knees. "I'm so, so sorry. I sincerely apologize... I wasn't looking..." You kneel down to help her collect each scattered artifact, one-by-one. <<include 'sheryfell'>>

"Yes," Shery blurts, flushing to the roots of her pale hair. "I know—I agree—I'm so sorry—" You watch as she fumbles around on her hands and knees, frantically trying to collect each scattered artifact. <<include 'sheryfell'>>

After a moment, Shery glances over her spectacles to look up at you, then catches you looking back and turns away, blushing. "Where were you going with all of this?" you ask her. "To the armory," Shery murmurs. She smiles, a little ruefully. "I suppose I bit off more than I could chew. I wish I were a Mage like you—then I could just levitate it all." Then she closes her mouth, as if startled by her own presumption. "Oh—I'm sorry. I know most don't consider it to be—an enviable position." She finally finishes gathering all of the items she dropped and rises to her feet, looking up at you through her lashes. "Were you... headed somewhere?" "I was going to look for you, actually," you answer, perceiving some indirect question. Shery smiles in relief. "That's kind of you," she says. "Would you mind helping me carry these, then?" "Do you want me to levitate them or do it the old-fashioned way?" Shery laughs. "Any way you want," she says, "so long as it doesn't involve me dropping it all again." <<page_break "Next" "shery2gargoyle">>

You and Shery walk the length of the Shepherds' compound towards the armory, carrying your bundles. Far off you can hear the shouts and clangs of other Shepherd recruits training, the faint chatter of people eating in the refectory, someone dropping something heavy and swearing. Sounds echo strangely in the remnants of Tangriel's tower, but you've both grown used to it: in some ways it's comforting, the great bustle and warmth of life closing around you even when the halls remain cold and empty. The corridor in front of you opens up like a throat. As you pass through it, you hear a voice say: "I didn't realize you hired an assistant. Can't you do your job on your own?" You look around, but there's no one in the hall but you and Shery. "Ignore him," Shery mutters, looking down. Who is she talking about? You look around again. "Better tuck your eyes back into your sockets, else you'll trip on them," the voice jeers again, mocking you. Finally, you think you're able to locate the source of the noise. Set in the wall high above you is the great stone head of a gargoyle—or perhaps it was once the head of a lion, though its features have faded with age. When you look up at it, the voice cracks out, "Eyes to yourself, recruit!" You look back at Shery. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $rank is "Captain">><<link '<div class="choice-item">"That's <i>Captain</i> to you!"</div>' 'autogenerated_68871'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Am I dreaming, or is that statue talking to us?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68872'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Are you playing a joke on me...?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68873'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Shery blinks rapidly at you. "Oh—er—that... wasn't me!" You stare at her. "Then who was it?" She looks wearily up at the great statue, though she avoids its gaze. "It's another artifact of Archmage Tangriel's—some sort of guardian he installed into the tower to watch over the place and protect it from harm. It's relatively harmless, but very... annoying. The Vice-Commander has tried to pull it down, but it seems welded to the very foundation of the place." "I can hear you talking about me, little mouse!" the lion-headed gargoyle roars. "Don't think I can't hear you chattering!" Shery ducks her head, a little frightened, but continues, "He—it—doesn't usually speak. It's only when I'm around... He loves to bully me." "Because I can sense your <i>weakness</i>," the statue retorts. "Tangriel did not allow the unworthy into his home!" <<include 'lionchoice'>>

Shery pulls a wry face. "I wish it were a dream," she answers, avoiding the statue's gaze. "It's another artifact of Archmage Tangriel's, some sort of guardian he installed into the tower to watch over the place. It's relatively harmless, but—annoying. The Vice-Commander has tried to pull it down, but it seems welded to the very foundation of the place." "I can hear you talking about me, little mouse!" the lion-gargoyle roars. "Don't think I can't hear you chattering!" Shery ducks her head, a little frightened, but continues, "He—it—doesn't usually speak. It's only when I'm around... He loves to bully me." "Because I can sense your <i>weakness</i>," the statue retorts. "Tangriel did not allow the unworthy into his home!" <<include 'lionchoice'>>

Shery shakes her head vigorously. "I don't play jokes," she murmurs, avoiding the statue's gaze. "It's another artifact of Archmange Tangriel's, some sort of guardian he installed into the tower to watch over the place. It's relatively harmless, but—annoying. The Vice-Commander has tried to pull it down, but it seems welded to the very foundation of the place." "I can hear you talking about me, little mouse!" the lion-gargoyle roars. "Don't think I can't hear you chattering!" Shery ducks her head, a little frightened, but continues, "He—it—doesn't usually speak. It's only when I'm around... He loves to bully me." "Because I can sense your <i>weakness</i>," the statue retorts. "Tangriel did not allow the unworthy into his home!" <<include 'lionchoice'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Threaten the statue into silence.</div>' 'autogenerated_68874'>><<setstrength +1>><<setcourage +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Silence the statue with your magic.</div>' 'autogenerated_68875'>><<setmagic +1>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Tell Shery to ignore the statue and move on.</div>' 'autogenerated_68876'>><<setcunning +1>><<setcompassionate -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Question the statue about its nature and purpose.</div>' 'autogenerated_68877'>><<setintelligence +1>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"I think you'd better shut up," you tell the stone head calmly, "before I climb up there and smash you." The lion falls eerily silent. You nod at Shery. "You see? It's a coward itself—as all bullies are. If you fight back, it'll back down. Plus you have the advantage of actually being able to—you know— move." Shery smiles a little and nods, looking away. <<include 'shery2continue'>>

You gesture, <i>willing</i> the statue into silence, and abruptly it falls quiet. Shery turns to you in awe. "Did you do that?" You nod. "It won't be bothering you anymore. Or anyone, I suspect, unless it wants its voice to be taken away permanently." You ruminate on the matter a little more, then shrug. "It's an interesting spell. Half-ward, half-sentient being—I almost wonder if Tangriel trapped some sort of spirit inside that statue and bound it into protecting his home." Shery pales a little. "That's awful! Shouldn't we set it free?" You raise your eyebrows, surprised by her compassion for a creature that was bent on harassing her just moments before. "We don't know what kind of spirit it is," you tell her. "It might turn on us and wreak havoc on the compound if we let it go." "Oh," Shery says, a little crestfallen. "Right. Of course." <<include 'shery2continue'>>

Shery ducks her head and flushes as you move away from the jeering statue. "Easier said than done," she mutters. <<include 'shery2continue'>>

"What are you?" you ask, turning to the stone head. "If Tangriel is dead, why do you remain?" There's a moment's pause before the statue speaks again. "Don't remember," it says petulantly, chittering. "Don't know." "Do you have a name? Are you a spell or a creature?" "Don't know," the statue repeats again. "Don't remember." Then it looses an unhappy shriek. "I must wait for the master to come back! Only Tangriel can set me free!" Abruptly, it falls silent. You turn back to Shery. "A pitiful thing," you tell her. "Totally reliant on someone else to exist—to be free. You should just ignore it. It's only taking out its pain on you." Shery only nods, pale, before quickly turning on her heel and walking back down the hall. <<include 'shery2continue'>>

<<set $sherystatus to "You were with her when Vivek, the gargoyle, bullied her.">> The two of you walk on for a while in silence. Then Shery turns to you and says, "I know what you're thinking. How did someone like me end up joining the Shepherds, if I let even an inanimate object torment me?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I wasn't thinking that at all."</div>' 'autogenerated_68878'>><<setshery +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I <i>was</i> thinking that..."</div>' 'autogenerated_68879'>><<setshery -5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I was actually thinking about how beautiful you are." <b>[FLIRT]</b></div>' 'autogenerated_68880'>><<setcharisma +1>><<setshery +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Shery blinks up at you. "Really?" You shake your head. "Not at all." She looks away and blushes fiercely. "You'd be the first," she murmurs. "Even I wonder it, at times." <<include 'sheryfell2'>>

Shery smiles deprecatingly. "It's all right. I'm sure it crosses everyone's mind. It even crosses my own—quite frequently, in fact." <<include 'sheryfell2'>>

<<nobr>><<if $sheryromanceflag gte 5>><<set $sheryromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</nobr>> Shery looks away, letting her long curtain of hair fall over her face. "Please don't tease me," she murmurs. "I'm not... good at dealing with jokes. Not like the Vice-Commander is, or even Tallys. They just let things just roll off them." "It's not a joke," you tell her earnestly. "You <i>are</i> beautiful, Shery." The quartermaster just shakes her head vigorously and falls silent. <<include 'sheryfell2'>>

"How <i>did</i> you end up joining the Shepherds?" you ask her, after a moment's pause. Shery looks down at the little bundle of artifacts she's collected in her arms; she strokes it like it's a pet. "It's a long story," she mutters. "I'm sure you have better things to do." She's clearly reluctant to talk about it. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Not at all. Otherwise I wouldn't ask."</div>' 'autogenerated_68881'>><<setshery +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Just tell me already. Do I have to pry it out of you?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68882'>><<setshery -4>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Shery bites her lip and scans you for any hint of hidden mockery or laughter. When you show none, she takes a breath and says, "I've been... <i>this way</i> all my life. N-nervous, I mean." She looks away. "Shy. It didn't exactly benefit me much in life. My parents were pawnbrokers and auctioneers—aggressive people. Confident. They were indifferent to me—I was a disappointment, though I tried—" She breaks off bleakly, then resumes after taking a breath. "And I was bullied quite a lot, which made the problem worse." You raise your eyebrows. "Bullied?" Shery nods. "Yes. Girls in the neighborhood knew that I would do anything they asked. One of them, Loretta, was particularly cruel... She'd threaten me daily, take my things and break them... all because she knew I wouldn't retaliate. It made me quite... withdrawn." She shakes her head. "Eventually my parents decided that they should sell me into an apprenticeship with a traveling merchant, both to get away from Loretta and to earn some gold for the family. I was very good at bookkeeping, so I could manage his accounts and change money... but..." You wait, knowing that interrupting her will cause her story to grind to a halt. "But...?" Shery looks away. "...But I ran away." <<include 'sheryranaway'>>

Shery stares at you with wide eyes, clearly taken aback. When you stare back unflinchingly, she ducks her head and says, "I've been... this way all my life. Anxious, I mean." She looks away. "Shy. It didn't exactly benefit me much in life. My parents were pawnbrokers and auctioneers—aggressive people. Confident. They were indifferent to me—I was a disappointment, though I tried—" She breaks off bleakly, then resumes after taking a breath. "And I was bullied quite a lot, which made the problem worse." You raise your eyebrows. "Bullied?" Shery nods. "Yes. Girls in the neighborhood knew that I would do anything they asked. One of them, Loretta, was particularly cruel... She'd threaten me daily, take my things and break them... all because she knew I wouldn't retaliate. It made me quite... withdrawn." She shakes her head. "Eventually my parents decided that they should sell me into an apprenticeship with a traveling merchant, both to get away from Loretta and to earn some gold for the family. I was very good at bookkeeping, so I could manage his accounts and change money... but..." You wait, knowing that interrupting her will cause her story to grind to a halt. "But...?" Shery looks away. "...But I ran away." You raise your eyebrows at the thought. "You did? Really?" Shery nods meekly. "Yes." "Why?" <<include 'sheryrunaway'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"That was brave of you!"</div>' 'autogenerated_68883'>><<setshery +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"That's no good. What about your family?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68884'>><<setshery -3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Shery shakes her head, her hair flying. "Not at all!" she protests. "My reasons for doing it were cowardly." "What were your reasons?" <<include 'sheryrunaway'>>

Shery flushes again, but her chin comes up. "They could get by without me," she answers with a hint of defiance. "I needed to do what made me happy." "Which was?" <<include 'sheryrunaway'>>

Shery makes eye contact with you. "I didn't want to leave Haven," she answers. "I've been here all my life. I love it. I was too frightened to leave." You nod, thinking it over. To you, a newcomer, Haven can be a paradox, a labyrinth of strange fairways, alchemic cultures, and mazelike politics that are almost impossible to navigate. But you can see how it would look appealing to a native—even beautiful, in its ancient, chaotic way. "So you ran away," you say. "I did... something similar, when I was young. Where did you go?" Shery sighs. "I wandered the city for a time," she says. "Looking for work. But everywhere I went, my skills either weren't sufficient, or the employers were... interested in something else." An expression of glowing relief dawns across her face, covering the brief flicker of fear. "But then I found the Order. I asked the Commander to give me a job, and he said he would allow me to stay for a probationary period, to see how I did. He's never kicked me out, so—here I am." <<page_break "Next" "sherygoingon">>

"And are you happy here?" you ask Shery. <<nobr>><<if $shery >= 45>> "Of course!" she blurts. "I love my work, and I've found a safe and lovely home..." Then she smiles shyly at you. "And—I get to meet such wonderful people." <<else>> Shery inclines her head. "I... I like it well enough," she murmurs. "At least I've finally found a place where no one bothers me. A place where I can truly feel at home." <</if>><</nobr>> <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm glad. You should let me know if anything else ever troubles you."</div>' 'autogenerated_68885'>><<setcompassionate +3>><<setshery +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Well, don't get too comfortable. You never know when Blade might change his mind."</div>' 'autogenerated_68886'>><<setcompassionate -3>><<setshery -5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"That's wonderful. Maybe you can show me the sights around Haven sometime."</div>' 'autogenerated_68887'>><<setcharisma +3>><<setshery +3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Shery ducks her head. "That's too kind," she says. "But I know you have far more important things to worry about!" <<include 'seconditem'>>

Shery's face falls, leaving her looking like a forlorn, stricken little duckling who's flown into glass and is too stunned to rouse itself. "You... you think so?..." You shrug. "You never know." Shery sighs. "That's... that's true." She lapses into silence for a moment, thinking furiously, before she shakes her head in a distracted way and says, "Well, it was nice... running into you, <<c firstname>>. Have a good day." Before you can say anything more, Shery clutches her bundle to her chest and hurries away. She runs off so fast that you don't even have time to return your own bundle to her—leaving you with a wealth of objects from the Vaults. You call after her, but Shery doesn't look back. <<include 'sheryover'>>

<<nobr>><<if $gender is "female">> <<set $sheryromanceflag += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> "Since you're so familiar with it," you clarify. Shery stares at you for a moment, dumbfounded, before shaking her head. "No?" you ask, surprised. "I'm sorry," Shery murmurs, pawing at her hair nervously. "I—I don't really spend time with Shepherds outside of work. It's policy." You think about the time you've spent with Blade, Trouble, and Tallys. "If that's true, every Shepherd I know has broken that policy." Shery's shaking her head. "Not the Shepherds' policy," she explains. "My own. I don't like to—get attached. I'm afraid that if I do, I won't..." You tilt your head. "You won't...?" Finally she averts her eyes and coughs. "I won't be strong enough to bear it if something happens to you," she whispers. "And something almost always does, in this line of work." <<include 'seconditem'>>

<<set $circletofintelligence to true>><<setintelligence +5>>Then, before you can say anything else, Shery reaches a hand into the pile she's collected in her arms and thrusts something out at you. You take it; it's some sort of thin circlet, made of silver and adorned with a single moonstone. "Take this," Shery says, avoiding your gaze. "I found it in the Vaults. I was going to go store it in the armory, but I think it will be more helpful to you, instead." You turn the circlet over in your hands. "What is it?" "According to Tangriel's notes, it's the Crown of the Farseers," Shery answers, looking shyly proud. "It's a good find. It's said to give the user clarity of mind and sharpness of wit." You run your finger along the smooth edge of the circlet. When you touch the moonstone, you feel a kind of cool clarity descend on your mind: if you close your eyes, you feel as if you could solve any problem in the world. "You know you could just pawn all this off yourself," you tell her. Shery is smiling at you. "If I give this to you, it will help you and the others survive," she tells you. "To me, that's something that no one can buy—not for any price in the world." <<include "sheryover">>

<<nobr>><<setshery +5>><<set $sherystatus to "You're helping Shery open up and stand up for herself.">><</nobr>> You find Shery in the refectory, attempting to address a group of recruits who seem to be thoroughly ignoring her as they bend over a newspaper and cackle. "Um…" you hear her soft voice beginning. "So… if… Officer Hattoc, if you could please empty the west armory's shelves…" As you approach, you hear her voice dwindle down to nothing; Shery hunches in a defeated way and sighs as the recruits continue to chatter amongst each other. They must be aware that she's there, as she's standing right in front of their table, but they don't even deign to glance her way as they talk over her. "Officer Minte, you're supposed to… um…" Shery trails off again, sighing, before she looks up and startles when she sees you. "O-oh! <<c firstname>>! What are you doing here?" "I was just looking for you," you answer, glancing at the unruly bunch of recruits. "What's going on?" Shery's shoulders sag. "We're having a huge shipment coming in," she murmurs. "The commander has tasked me with finding room for all of the new equipment and supplies. But in order to do that, I need… help…" She glances nervously again at the recruits. "He told me to get some of the officers to clear out the spaces that I needed. But… none of them are listening to me…" You frown at her. "They're just greenies, and you're the quartermaster. Don't you outrank them?" "Well, yes," Shery says, fidgeting. "But that doesn't seem to help in making them listen…" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Forget them. I'll help you."</div>' 'helpshery'>><<setshery +3>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Tell off the recruits for her.</div>' 'telloffrecruits'>><<setshery +3>><<setcourage +1>><<set $sheryharden -= 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Encourage Shery to stand up for herself.</div>' 'encourageshery'>><<setshery +1>><<set $sheryharden += 2>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Well... good luck with that..." Leave.</div>' 'autogenerated_68888'>><<setshery -10>><<setloyal -5>><<setcompassionate -5>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Her face blanches. "Thank you," Shery says hopelessly. You walk away and leave her to her errand. <<include 'sheryover'>>

Shery's eyebrows raise. "Oh, no, I couldn't ask you to do that… this could take hours…" You wave her concerns aside. "Just put me to work. I'm here to help." She beams, her smile surprisingly sweet and sunny. "Thank you, <<c firstname>>." <<page_break "Next" "helpsherywork">>

You work for some time, helping Shery clear out shelves and closets to make room for the new supplies. As you talk, you exchange stories—some humorous, some intense—and engage in small talk. As you begin to finish up one room (and realize with rising dread that you have several others to go through), Shery suddenly pauses. "Um… <<c firstname>>?" You look up from unpacking a dusty crate full of moth-ridden coats. "Yes?" <<nobr>><<if $sheryromanceflag >= 5>> Shery's face flushes. "…Do you mind if I ask you something?" <br><br> "What is it?" <br><br> She bites her lip, bending so that her long curtain of pale hair falls over her face and hides her expression. "Um… I was just wondering… is there anyone you're interested in, here in the Order?" <br><br> You stare at her, but she ducks her head and pretends to be busy with examining a cracked ivory horn. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Where did that come from?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68889'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"No, I'm not particularly interested in anybody."</div>' 'autogenerated_68890'>><<set $sheryromanceflag to 0>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Yes, I'm interested in someone." Someone else.</div>' 'interestedinother'>><<set $sheryromanceflag to 0>><</link>> <<if $attractedto is not "men">><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm not interested in anyone but you, Shery."</div>' 'interestedinshery'>><</link>><</if>> </div><</nobr>> <<else>> Shery bites her lips. "Do you mind if I ask you something?" <br><br> "What is it?" <br><br> She touches her hair nervously. "Erm… do you ever hear the others… talking about me? Saying anything?" <br><br> "What do you mean?" you ask her. <br><br> "Well," Shery says slowly. "Everyone's always talking about Vice-Commander Trouble, for example. They think he's kind and heroic. And Commander Blade—I hear other recruits always discussing how skilled and noble he is. And even Tallys: everyone's always whispering to each other about how beautiful and mysterious she is, wondering where she goes when she leaves the compound… things like that." She smiles in a watery way. "They each have their own sets of admirers and even detractors. So I was just wondering… if you'd ever heard any talk like that about me." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"To tell you the truth, I haven't really heard anyone talking about you."</div>' 'ihaventheardanyonetalkingaboutyou'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Lie. "I hear others talking about you, and only in positive ways!"</div>' 'lieaboutshery'>><<setshery +1>><<setcunning +1>><<setcharisma +1>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Lie. "I hear others talking about you, but they never have very nice things to say."</div>' 'lieaboutshery2'>><<setcunning +1>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setshery -5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Change the subject. "What do you hear about me?"</div>' 'whatdoyouhear'>><<setshery -3>><<set $sheryromanceflag -=1>><<set $sheryharden -= 1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <</if>><</nobr>>

Her cheeks flush prettily. "N-no reason," she says awkwardly. "We're friends, and those are the kinds of things that friends talk about—" She catches your look and clams up. "I'm sorry! I shouldn't have asked." <<include 'thirditem'>>

Her face falls. "Oh," Shery says. "I… see." She forces a bright smile at you. "I suppose that makes sense, given how professional you are. Relationships between Shepherds aren't allowed, anyway!" She quickly turns away, turning the horn this way and that and examining it closely. <<include 'thirditem'>>

Shery doesn't look very surprised. "I thought so," she sighs. She seems lost in thought for a moment before she snaps out of it. "Well… thank you for telling me!" She gives you a faint smile. "Sorry for putting you in an awkward position." <<nobr>><<if $compassionate gte 70>> "Just because I haven't heard anything," you begin, trying to be encouraging, "it doesn't mean you're not appreciated." <br><br> Shery smiles, somewhat thinly. "Oh, I know," she says. It's hard to tell if her voice is sad, or wistful, or bitter, or resigned. Maybe a mix of all four. "It's just... it's easy to feel eclipsed, sometimes. No, more than that. I just hope I'm doing enough for the Order." <<include "sheryencourage">> <<else>> <br><br> <<include "thirditem">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Shery's face drops. "Oh," she says. "I… see…" She forces a bright smile at you. "That would make sense, of course. You're so popular!" She turns away, but you think you see her mouth pinch with unhappiness. When she looks up again, though, you decide it must have been a trick of the light. "Who is it?" Shery asks, uncharacteristically boldly. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if ($bladeromanceflag >= 10) and ($attractedto is not "women")>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Blade."</div>' 'autogenerated_68891'>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($troubleromanceflag >= 7) and ($attractedto is not "women")>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Trouble."</div>' 'autogenerated_68892'>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($tallysromanceflag >= 4) and ($attractedto is not "men")>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Tallys."</div>' 'autogenerated_68893'>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($chaseromanceflag >= 5) and ($attractedto is not "women")>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Chase."</div>' 'autogenerated_68894'>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($rielromanceflag >= 5) and ($attractedto is not "women")>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Riel."</div>' 'autogenerated_68895'>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($redromanceflag >= 7) and ($redjoin is true) and ($attractedto is not "women")>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Red."</div>' 'autogenerated_68896'>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($aylaromanceflag >= 7) and ($aylajoin is true) and ($attractedto is not "men")>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Ayla."</div>' 'autogenerated_68897'>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($brionyromanceflag >= 5) and ($attractedto is not "men") and $brionyjoin is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Briony."</div>' 'autogenerated_68898'>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($lavinetromanceflag >= 7) and ($attractedto is not "women") and $lavinetjoin is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Lavinet."</div>' 'autogenerated_68899'>><</link>><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

Shery's smile seems frozen to her face. "Oh," she says. "The commander? Of… of course." <<include 'thirditem'>>

Shery's smile seems frozen to her face. "Oh," she says. "The vice-commander… Of… of course." <<include 'thirditem'>>

<<nobr>><<if $tallyssex is true>> In fact, you're rather surprised Shery hasn't already heard about you and Tallys'… dalliances by now. <br><br> <</if>><</nobr>> Shery's smile seems frozen to her face. "Of course," she says politely. "Tallys is beautiful, and mysterious, and…" She trails off. "Of course you would admire her. Anyone would." <<include 'thirditem'>>

Shery's smile seems frozen to her face. "Oh," she says. "The leader of Thieves Guild… Of… of course." <<include 'thirditem'>>

Shery's smile seems frozen to her face. "Oh," she says. "The leader of Merchants Guild? Of… of course. He's very elegant and refined, not to mention brilliant…" <<include 'thirditem'>>

Shery's smile seems frozen to her face. "Oh," she says. "The head of the Veiled Circle? Of… of course. He's so kind and friendly…" <<include 'thirditem'>>

Shery's smile seems frozen to her face. "Of course," she says politely. "Ayla is beautiful, and ferocious, and…" She trails off. "Of course you would admire her. Anyone would." <<include 'thirditem'>>

Shery's smile seems frozen to her face. "Of course," she says politely. "Briony is beautiful, and strong, and brave, and kind…" She trails off. "Of course you would admire her. Anyone would." <<include 'thirditem'>>

Shery's smile seems frozen to her face. "Of course," she says politely. "Lavinet is beautiful, and elegant, and…" She trails off. "Of course you would admire her. Anyone would." <<include 'thirditem'>>

<<nobr>><<if $gender is "female">><<set $sheryromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</nobr>> She yelps and drops the horn, breaking it. "<<c firstname>>!" she sputters. "Please don't tease me like that!" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm not teasing you. I'm telling the truth."</div>' 'autogenerated_68900'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"But what if I'd <i>love</i> to tease you?" <b>[INNUENDO]</b></div>' 'autogenerated_68901'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Okay, okay, I'm sorry! I was just kidding!"</div>' 'autogenerated_68902'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $gender is "female">><<set $sheryromanceflag += 3>><</if>><</nobr>> Shery covers her face, which is so red you could cook an egg on it. "You're being cruel," she whispers through her fingers. You decide to back off, for the sake of her poor heart. "I'm not trying to be, but we can drop it for now." Shery drops her hands and breathes a sigh of relief. "Good," she whispers, which confuses you. Is she saying she's not actually interested in you, and is fearful of the awkwardness that would come with rejection? You frown to yourself. You can't help but feel a sting in your heart at the thought. You'd thought things were progressing between you well, but now you're just not sure... <<include 'thirditem'>>

<<nobr>><<if $gender is "female">><<set $sheryromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</nobr>> Shery half-screams, her face so red you think you could cook an egg on it. "<i><<c firstname>>!</i>" You decide to back off, for the sake of her poor heart. "Fine, fine, I'm done." Shery breathes a sigh of relief. <<include 'thirditem'>>

She lowers her hands from shielding her beet-red face. "Good," she breathes, absolutely flustered. Which is puzzling—is she saying that she's not interested in you, after all? <<include 'thirditem'>>

Shery's eyes shine. "Really? What do they say?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"They talk about how kind you are."</div>' 'autogenerated_68903'>><<setshery +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"They talk about how clever you are."</div>' 'autogenerated_68904'>><<setshery +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"They talk about how valuable you are."</div>' 'autogenerated_68905'>><<setshery +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"They talk about how cute you are."</div>' 'autogenerated_68906'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Shery's eyes shine. "Do they really?" You nod. "Of course!" She looks positively delighted. "That's wonderful!" she cries. Her face is pink with happiness. "That makes me feel so—oh, happy and relieved." She beams at you. "Thank you for telling me." "Why are you asking, anyway?" you ask curiously. Shery shakes her head slowly, though she's still smiling. "Well, it's hard to explain," she begins slowly. "It's not, um, that I feel as if I'm not receiving my due recognition... It's more that I worry that I'm not doing enough for the Order." <<include 'sheryencourage'>>

<<nobr>><<if $gender is "female">><<set $sheryromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</nobr>> Shery blushes. "They do not!" "Oh, yes, they do." She turns away, embarrassed. "I… I see…" "Why are you asking, anyway?" you ask curiously. Shery shakes her head slowly, though she's still smiling. "Well, it's hard to explain," she begins slowly. "It's not, um, that I feel as if I'm not receiving my due recognition... It's more that I worry that I'm not doing enough for the Order." <<include 'sheryencourage'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $compassionate gte 65>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Your worth can't be summed up just by how much work you do or how much you contribute, Shery, or even how much others recognize you for it. You are so much more than any of that."</div>' 'autogenerated_68907'>><<set $sheryharden += 2>><<setshery +5>><<setcompassionate +3>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You're doing a lot for the Order, but whether other people talk about that or not shouldn't make a difference."</div>' 'autogenerated_68908'>><<set $sheryharden += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item"> "We could all stand to improve and pitch in more."</div>' 'autogenerated_68909'>><<set $sheryharden -= 2>><<setloyal +5>><<setcompassionate -2>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Are you kidding? Of course you are! This entire place would fall apart without you!"</div>' 'autogenerated_68910'>><<setshery +5>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $sheryromanceflag gte 7>><<set $sheryromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</nobr>> "Your value can't be measured by how much others are talking about you," you tell her. "You're important no matter how much you serve or help other people; the two things aren't related." Shery's mouth falls open for a moment; she stares at you, seemingly struck speechless, before she manages to close her mouth again. Then she looks away, ducking her head so that her pale blonde hair falls over her eyes, and murmurs, "Um..." A painful beat of silence creeps by, during which you wonder if you've offended or hurt her. And when Shery looks back up at you, you see her eyes shimmering—but she's smiling, ever so tentatively. "Thank you, <<c firstname>>," she says simply, the words hardly louder than a breath. And then her smile widens, <<nobr>><<if $sheryromanceflag gte 7>> and she looks so beautiful that you abruptly feel as if something has punched you in the chest. <<else>> brightening her face so much that she looks like an entirely different person. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'thirditem'>>

Shery grimaces ruefully. "You're completely right," she murmurs, chastened. "It was silly of me to worry about it at all." <<include 'thirditem'>>

Shery grimaces as if you'd struck her. "You're completely right," she murmurs, chastened. "It was silly of me to worry about it at all." <<include 'thirditem'>>

<<nobr>><<if $sheryromanceflag += 5>><<set $sheryromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</nobr>> You're honestly aghast that she would ever think otherwise: Shery is one of the hardest-working people you know, and she does a lot of thankless work silently—just like she is right now. If she isn't receiving enough recognition for her efforts... well, you'll just have to find a way to remedy that. Shery blushes under the onslaught of your sincere praise. "Oh, I wasn't fishing for compliments!" she stammers, holding her hands up as if to allay you—but she seems quietly very pleased to hear that you think she's important to the day-to-day operations of the Order. You heap more enthusiastic commendation and praise on her until she's fair squeaking with embarrassed happiness. <<include 'thirditem'>>

Shery's face falls. "...Really?" You fake a sad nod. "I'm afraid so." She bites her lip, looking down as her fist bunches up the pleats of her skirt. "What do they say?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Oh, just how annoying you are..."</div>' 'autogenerated_68911'>><<setshery -10>><<setcompassionate -10>><<set $sheryharden -= 5>><<set $sherystatus to "You privately enjoy tormenting her.">><<set $sheryromanceflag to 0>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"How mousy and quiet you are..."</div>' 'autogenerated_68912'>><<setshery -5>><<setcompassionate -10>><<set $sheryharden -= 5>><<set $sheryromanceflag to 0>><<set $sherystatus to "You privately enjoy tormenting her.">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You know what? It doesn't really matter."</div>' 'autogenerated_68913'>><<set $sherystatus to "You privately enjoy tormenting her.">><<set $sheryharden -= 1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Shery looks positively shaken. "Oh. I… I see…" She turns away; you think her eyes might be watering, but that could just be a trick of the light. "...I suppose that isn't very surprising." She smiles ruefully, a little bitterly. "Thank you for being honest, at least." The rest of your time working together passes in a heavy, saddened silence. <<include 'sheryover'>>

Shery turns away; you think her eyes might be watering, but that could just be a trick of the light. "If you say so," she whispers. <<include 'thirditem'>>

Her face falls, but after a moment of confused blinking, she obliges your question and answers, "Mostly they talk about how powerful you are, how strong and special… <<nobr>><<if $strength > $magic>> Many say what a great warrior you are. <<else>> Many say what a talented magic-user you are. <</if>> <<if ($courage > $intelligence) and ($courage > $cunning) and ($courage > $charisma)>> They also talk about your sense of courage, how you'll charge selflessly into the fray for anybody. <<elseif ($charisma > $intelligence) and ($charisma > $cunning) and ($charisma > $courage)>> They talk about how articulate and magnetic you are, how you can sway anyone's opinion just by walking into a room. <<elseif ($intelligence > $cunning) and ($intelligence > $charisma) and ($intelligence > $courage)>> They talk about how intelligent and learned you are, how strategic your thinking is and how you seem to know the answer to any question. <<elseif ($cunning > $intelligence) and ($cunning > $charisma) and ($cunning > $courage)>> They talk about how clever and resourceful you are, how quickly you think on your feet and how deftly you can turn any situation to your favor. <</if>><</nobr>> And…" She trails off, then takes a weary breath. "That's about it, really. I'm sure you could ask the others yourself." -> thirditem

You identify two of the ringleaders of the chattering group: newly-minted recruits by the name of Justyn and Cybele, a Mage and an Elf, respectively. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if ($compassionate < 45) or ($courage >= 40)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Hattoc! Minte! Get off your asses NOW!"</div>' 'autogenerated_68914'>><<setcompassionate -3>><<setloyal +1>><<setcourage +1>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($compassionate >= 45) or ($courage < 40)>><div class="inactive-item">"Hattoc! Minte! Get off your asses NOW!"</div><</if>> <<if $rank is not "Officer">><<link '<div class="choice-item">Pull rank as a commanding officer. "Recruits! Listen up!"</div>' 'autogenerated_68915'>><<setcharisma +1>><<setloyal +3>><<setcourage +1>><</link>><</if>> <<if $rank is "Officer">><div class="inactive-item">Pull rank as a commanding officer. "Recruits! Listen up!"</div><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Approach the table. "Please listen to Quartermaster Acquell. She has something to tell you."</div>' 'approachtable'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

The recruits look up with wide eyes before scrambling to their feet, tripping and falling over themselves to salute you. "Yes, $rank $surname! Sorry, $rank $surname!" They rise and stand meekly aside as Shery gives out her instructions. After they disperse, she turns to you and beams. "Thank you so much, <<c firstname>>," she says with relief. "I don't know what I'd do without you." <<include 'dotheyoftenrefusetolisten'>>

The recruits look up with wide eyes as they see you standing there, arms folded. They immediately scramble to their feet, tripping and falling over themselves to salute you. "Yes, Captain! Sorry, Captain!" They rise and stand meekly aside as Shery gives out her instructions. After they disperse, she turns to you and beams. "Thank you so much, <<c firstname>>," she says with relief. "I don't know what I'd do without you." <<include 'dotheyoftenrefusetolisten'>>

<<nobr>><<if ($compassionate >= 41) or ($rank is "Officer")>> Immediately, Justyn Hattoc turns to you and frowns. He's new and doesn't seem to recognize you in particular; to him, you must seem to be some other random officer. "Quartermaster Acquell isn't our superior," he says. You'd heard he was a former bard, but he doesn't have much of a minstrel's playfulness or gaiety. "We're training to be in the field; she has other staff and assistants who can help her, surely." <br><br> "If you won't listen to her, you need to listen to me," you tell him in a harder voice. "And I'm telling you to help her." <br><br> His friend, a short auburn-haired Elf by the name of Cybele, leans around Justyn to stare at you incredulously—or perhaps challengingly. "Or else what?" the bard asks, raising his brows at you. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Or else I'll tell the Commander!"</div>' 'autogenerated_68916'>><<setcourage -1>><<setloyal +1>><</link>> <<if ($strength >= 25) and ($compassionate < 45)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Grab Justyn by the shirtfront. "Or I'll fuck you up, greenie."</div>' 'autogenerated_68917'>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($strength < 25) or ($compassionate >= 45)>><div class="inactive-item">Grab Justyn by the shirtfront. "Or I'll fuck you up, greenie."</div><</if>> </div><</nobr>> <<else>> They look up, spot you standing there, and immediately scramble to their feet, saluting frantically. "S-sorry, $rank $surname," Justyn mutters. "We didn't see you there." <br><br> They rise and stand meekly aside as Shery gives out her instructions. After they disperse, she turns to you and beams. "Thank you so much, <<c firstname>>," she says with relief. "I don't know what I'd do without you." <br><br> <<include "dotheyoftenrefusetolisten">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Justyn's mouth twitches, and the other recruit, Cybele, mutters, "So we have a tattletale on our hands…" Reluctantly, they heave themselves up from the table and listen desultorily to Shery as she stammers out her instructions, shooting you sullen or resentful looks all the while. Still, they all troop off to do her bidding, and Shery turns to you with a beam. "Thank you so much, <<c firstname>>," she says with relief. "I don't know what I'd do without you." <<include 'dotheyoftenrefusetolisten'>>

Justyn's eyes go wide as you grab a fistful of his shirt. He nods rapidly, lifting his hands and muttering, "Sorry," and you release him. The other recruits look at each other, cowed. Now duly chastened, they stand in a sullen huddle as Shery stammers out her instructions, the recruits staring at their boots or shooting you furtive looks all the while. Still, they all troop off to do her bidding, and Shery turns to you with a beam. "Thank you so much, <<c firstname>>," she says with relief. "I don't know what I'd do without you." <<include 'dotheyoftenrefusetolisten'>>

You frown after the retreating recruits. "Do they often refuse to listen to you?" Shery shakes her head frantically, her eyes wide at your expression. "N-not at all," she exclaims, sounding a bit nervous now—she clearly doesn't want to land the recruits in serious trouble. Then, after a pause, she amends, "It's n-not that they <i>refuse</i> to listen to me, it's more that they simply don't really notice or hear me... or think that I'm talking directly to them... It's more my fault, not theirs!" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Well, if they give you trouble again, just come get me. I'll set them straight." </div>' 'autogenerated_68918'>><<setshery +3>><<set $sheryharden -= 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"That's no good. You have authority over them, Shery. Feel free to pull rank if you have to." </div>' 'autogenerated_68919'>><<setshery +1>><<setloyal +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Those fuck-ass recruits will walk over you if you let them. So don't let them." </div>' 'autogenerated_68920'>><<setcompassionate -3>><<setloyal -5>><<setshery -1>><<setcourage +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Stop blaming yourself for everything. It doesn't help anyone, and it'll just keep enabling them. You're not always the one at fault, Shery."' 'autogenerated_68921'>><<set $sheryharden +1>><<setshery +3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $gender is "female" and $sheryromanceflag gte 5>><<set $sheryromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</nobr>> For some reason, Shery blushes. "I will," she breathes. The look she gives you almost edges past from gratitude into straight <i>worshipfulness</i>. "Thank you so much, <<c firstname>>." <<include 'thirditem'>>

"The Order can only function if everyone enforces the chain of command and makes it clear," you add. For some reason, Shery colors at that, but she sighs as if she knows you're right. "I know," she sighs. "I'll try." <<include 'thirditem'>>

Shery winces at your rough language, and ducks her head as if she's the one being scolded. "I-I'll try," she mumbles at her shoes. <<include 'thirditem'>>

<<nobr>><<if $gender is "female">><<set $sheryromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</nobr>>For a moment, it seems as if Shery wants to argue: she opens her mouth and says doubtfully, "But..." At your look, though, she shuts her mouth again and looks more thoughtful. Then she lifts her chin and nods. "I suppose you're right. Thank you, <<c firstname>>." <<include 'thirditem'>>

Shery's eyes widen. "What?" "Tell them again," you tell her. "Louder. Bang on the table, if you have to. You are their superior and they have to listen to you. Otherwise, they should be fired." She bites her lip. "I-it's really not that important," Shery says then, her face full of anxiety and dread. "I can just do it myself…" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"No. You have to stand up for yourself!"</div>' 'encourageshery2'>><<setshery +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"That's ridiculous. This task is meant for several people."</div>' 'encourageshery2'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You can't let them walk all over you. It isn't right."</div>' 'encourageshery2'>><<setcourage +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Shery looks doubtful. "It's really all right…" She falls silent at your stern look. "Shery," you tell her firmly, "you can't do a good job unless you can get others to listen to you." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You deserve to be heard."</div>' 'autogenerated_68922'>><<setshery +3>><<set $sheryharden += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You owe it to the rest of us to do a good job."</div>' 'encourageshery3'>><<setloyal +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"These jerks don't deserve to just get out of work."</div>' 'encourageshery3'>><<setcompassionate -3>><<setloyal -3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $sheryromanceflag >= 5>><<set $sheryromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</nobr>> <<include "encourageshery3">> <<include ''>>

She purses her lips for a moment, ruminating on what you said. Then she gives you an uncertain glance and whispers, "Do you really think so?" You nod. Finally, Shery takes a breath, straightening her back as if she's about to walk out in front of a firing squad. "Um… excuse me!" At first her voice comes out thin and reedy, easily-lost in the clamor of the refectory. She casts another glance at you, and, encouraged by your nod, she takes a breath and speaks a little louder. "Excuse me! Officers… if you would listen for a moment…" The chatter grows louder, as if to drown her out. Something determined and a little crazed flashes in Shery's eyes. "<b>EXCUSE ME</b>!!!" Her yell continues to ring like a gunshot in the dead silence that falls over the refectory. The officers at the table look up, wide-eyed. Shery, pink-cheeked with exertion, straightens her glasses in a dignified manner. "I have a task for all of you," she says in a clear but trembling voice. She holds her clipboard out in front of her like a shield. "P-please line up to receive your tasks. If you… if you don't treat this seriously, I'll be reporting your performance to the Commander." Surprisingly, the group of recruits rise in sheepish silence and line up in front of Shery. Her head swivels around to look at you, wide-eyed, before she turns back, clears her throat, and begins dispensing her orders. Afterwards, when all of the recruits have departed to perform their new duties, <<nobr>><<if ($shery >= 50) or ($sheryromanceflag >= 4)>> Shery spins around and gives you a hug, engulfing you in a soft, round warmth and the smells of sugar and vanilla. <<if $sheryromanceflag >= 5>>Her hair, feather soft, whispers against you like a cloud of silk.<</if>> "I did it!" she squeaks. <<include "ididitsherysqueaks">> <<else>> Shery spins around to look at you. "I did it!" she squeaks, her eyes alight with excitement. <<include "encourageshery4">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Hug her back.</div>' 'sheryhugafterrecruits'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Nod politely. "Good for you."</div>' 'sherynodafterrecruits'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Push her off.</div>' 'sherypushafterrecruits'>><<setshery -30>><<set $sheryromanceflag to 0>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $gender is "female">><<set $sheryromanceflag += 2>><</if>><<if $sheryromanceflag gte 7>>For a moment, you allow yourself to be engulfed in the delicious warmth of Shery's embrace, the softness of her curves and the rareness of physical contact with her sending a quickening through your veins... <br><br><</if>><</nobr>> Shery pulls back, seems to realize what she's doing, and steps away from your embrace with a bright red blush. She laughs nervously, at nothing. <<include "encourageshery4">>

Shery pulls back, seems to realize what she's doing, and steps away from your embrace with a bright red blush. She laughs nervously, at nothing. <<include "encourageshery4">>

Shery stumbles back, looking shocked; the expression on her face radiates hurt and humiliation. "Um… sorry," she mumbles, her hand flying up to pat her hair back into place—a nervous gesture. "I... I was just so happy, I didn't..." She trails off, looking mortified, though she continues to gabble, as if giddy from an adrenaline rush. "...I wasn't thinking. I've just... never <i>done</i> that before!" <<include "encourageshery4">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm proud of you."</div>' 'autogenerated_68923'>><<setshery +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Now to keep working on it so they'll <i>always</i> listen to you."</div>' 'autogenerated_68924'>><<setloyal +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Congratulations. It shouldn't have been that hard, but there you go."</div>' 'autogenerated_68925'>><<setshery -3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

She beams, her cheeks suffused with a happy pinkness. "Thank you, <<c firstname>>," she whispers. "I really appreciate it." <<include 'thirditem'>>

She smiles and nods eagerly. "I'll try!" she chirps. <<include 'thirditem'>>

Shery's face falls, but she tries in vain to pretend she didn't hear your double-sided comment. "Right," she says, a little crestfallen. <<include 'thirditem'>>

<<nobr>><<set $ringofcharisma to true>> <<setcharisma +5>><</nobr>> Then, suddenly, she looks up as if she just remembered something. "Oh!" she exclaims, reaching into her deep skirt pocket. "I meant to give you this before I forgot. I found it in the Vaults!" She deposits something cool and circular in your hand. You look at it: it's a thin silver ring, newly-polished, depicting a serpent eating its own tail. The serpent's delicate, tiny eyes are inset with the smallest rubies you've ever seen. It looks like a very precious object. "That's supposed to be the ring of Zatana Zircei," Shery declares, a bit proudly. "Otherwise known as Zatana Silvertongue: a kind of mythological trickster figure, a merchant-thief who lied and conned people for the sake of poor. It's supposed to give the wearer persuasive powers." She gives you a small, warm smile. "Since you always seem to know what to say, unlike me… I thought it'd be of more use to you." She lays a hand on your arm. "And thank you, <<c firstname>>. For always being there to help!" <<include "sheryover">>

<<setshery +5>>You're hard-pressed to track Shery down, because she's not in any of her usual spots: not in the Vaults, nor in the refectory, nor in her office or her bedroom… You have to ask three different hassled-looking recruits running around, and eventually one points you in the direction of the mail room. With the Order growing so large, a dedicated mail and courier system had to be instituted for efficiency's sake. Your magical Tower accommodated the need beautifully, evidently 'growing' a vast, circular chamber arrayed with thousands of honeycombed wooden shelves overnight. A specialized rookery for messenger birds, hawks, owls, and pigeons resides up a spiral staircase at the mail room's top; at its base, half a dozen couriers and messengers scurry to and from between the shelves, sorting everything from letters from distant family members, professional correspondence with business contacts and mission liaisons, orders from superiors, work and repair requests, and even letters of admiration from the adoring public or between Shepherd officers themselves. While urgent orders or immediate assignments are still hand-delivered by these Solar Corps couriers, the vast majority of the mail you receive is deposited here, sorted into your own small compartment on one of the central shelves. It's here you find Shery, sitting on the floor with her skirt spread out in a pale blue circle around her, looking like she's about to cry. You stop and stare. She has so many envelopes scattered around her that it looks like she's a giant bird, shedding and molting paper feathers. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Are you... okay?"</div>' 'sherymail_response'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"What <i>happened</i>?"</div>' 'sherymail_response'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Whoa. That's a lot of letters."</div>' 'sherymail_response'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Shery immediately lights up at the sight of you, scrambling up and letting dozens of envelopes scatter to the ground at her feet. "<<c firstname>>!" she exclaims, her blue eyes sparkling with obvious pleasure and delight. She smiles shyly at you. "I… I was hoping to see you. I was so glad to see you come back safely…" <<nobr>><<if ($shery >= 70 or $sheryromanceflag >= 6)>> Her eyes dip to the ground briefly as her voice softens. "I… m-missed you while you were away… I was so worried about you…" <</if>><</nobr>> Then she looks around at the piles of mail around her and sighs. "I even wanted to do something to celebrate your return… But unfortunately, it seems that fate had other plans." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if ($shery >= 70 or $sheryromanceflag >= 6)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Smile at her. "I missed you, too."</div>' 'autogenerated_68926'>><<setshery +3>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($shery >= 70 or $sheryromanceflag >= 6)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"You missed me?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68927'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"What's going on?"</div>' 'sherymail_explanation'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $gender is "female">> <<set $sheryromanceflag += 1>> <</if>><<if $sheryromanceflag >= 8>> Shery flushes almost to the roots of her pale hair, but she seems pleased by your reciprocation; she beams at you for a long moment, allowing you enough time to notice just how long her eyelashes are. Then, before your thoughts can stray any further, you ask, "What's going on here?" <<else>> Shery flushes almost to the roots of her pale hair, but she seems pleased by your reciprocation; she beams at you for a long moment before you ask, "What's going on here?" <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'sherymail_explanation'>>

She flushes. "Well, I mean, m-many people did," she stammers. "You're an important presence around our order, and everyone has come to rely on you, and…" She lapses into an embarrassed silence for a moment. After a few awkward beats, you gesture around at the scattered envelopes and ask, "What's going on here?" <<include 'sherymail_explanation'>>

Shery bites her lip. "Our sealmaster—Annova Mapstone, the person who's in charge of all of our post—is out with an emergency today. She asked me if I could stand in for her, and I agreed, but…" She gestures rather hopelessly at the piles of mail. "…I think I underestimated just how much she gets done in one afternoon." <<include "sherymailexplain">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("sherymail_couriers")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"Can't those couriers I saw over there help you?"</div>' 'sherymail_couriers'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("sherymail_underestimate")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"Did you underestimate the amount of work you agreed to, or did she downplay it when she asked you to do her the favor?"</div>' 'sherymail_underestimate'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("sherymail_tired")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">Sigh. "You know, I'm really starting to get tired of getting roped into extra work whenever I come to see you..."</div>' 'sherymail_tired'>><<setshery -10>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("sherymail_forget")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"Forget her. This isn't your job."</div>' 'sherymail_forget'>><<setshery -5>><<setloyal -5>><<setcompassionate -3>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Do you need help?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68928'>><<setcompassionate +3>><<setshery +3>><<setloyal +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Well... good luck with that."</div>' 'autogenerated_68929'>><<setloyal -10>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setshery -3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Shery's face brightens. "I couldn't ask you to help, not on your time off," she begins, though there's clear hope shining on her face. "You've already helped me so much, especially all those other times…" "Four hands are better than two," you point out. "And maybe with my assistance, this will get done faster, and we can take a break together for once." Shery practically glows with pleasure. "Well, when you put it that way, that <i>does</i> sound nice," she murmurs shyly. She smiles at you. "Thank you! I would be very glad of your help, if you're sure you want to give it!" <<include 'sherymail25'>>

Shery sighs and nods desolately. "Thank you. Maybe I'll see you around later?" You nod and walk away, leaving her staring blankly at the piles of mail she has to sort, looking lost and frazzled. <<include 'sheryover'>>

She shakes her head. "No, they have their hands full with their own duties… If I asked them to help me with this, more work would pile up for them. I couldn't do that." <<include "sherymailexplain">>

Shery's face tightens anxiously at the implication. <<nobr>><<if $sheryharden > 0>> "As a matter of fact, she was very clear on what was required: I was the one who overestimated my own efficiency," she answers quietly. Then she smiles at you. "I <i>have</i> been working on being more assertive, thanks to you. She didn't take advantage of me: I wanted to help, and something like this falls to me as Quartermaster, because it helps things in the Order run smoothly. I wanted to do it, I'm just… not very good at it, it seems." <<else>> "Erm… I suppose it was a bit of both?" she hazards. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "sherymailexplain">>

<<nobr>> <<if $sheryromanceflag >= 5>> <<set $sheryromanceflag -= 5>> <</if>> <</nobr>> Shery's face falls, and the air between you palpably chills. After a moment, she drops her eyes and says quietly, "I'm sorry. I know it must be tedious… but I'm sure one day our days off will align." She glances around at the haphazard letters again. "But for today, I need to take care of this. I promised." <<include "sherymailexplain">>

Shery shoots you a rather scandalized look. "A-actually, it is," she murmurs. "I'm the quartermaster, and she answers directly to me. If she's unable to fulfill her duties, it's my job to stand in." <<include "sherymailexplain">>

<<nobr>><<set $mail to 0, $letters to 0>><</nobr>>You nod and step forward. "What do I need to do?" Shery quickly explains that it's a very simple task: she just needs to sort these piles of mail into the proper boxes. It was just the sheer <i>amount</i> that momentarily overwhelmed her; but between the two of you, you should be done with the task in an hour or less. You chat amiably as you work, idly catching each other up on goings-on around the compound, on the latest baking recipe Shery has been experimenting with, on what books you might recommend to each other. It's a warm and pleasant time, and she visibly perks up, bustling back and forth between the shelves with more of her usual brisk efficiency. Most of the time, she explains, she's a hard worker (you think to yourself that she doesn't need to say so; you've seen the evidence for yourself), but when placed in unexpected or stressful situations, she can freeze up and suddenly have trouble knowing where to start, easily becoming overwhelmed by an acute, panicky sense of just how <i>much</i> she has to do. This prevents her from actually doing it. It's like staring up at a mountain from its base and feeling too intimidated to start the climb, overcome with doubt that you'll ever reach the top in the first place. But a push in the right direction and some renewed momentum—or someone giving her a simple, achievable place to start—can jolt her out of this momentary paralysis. As you talk, you mindlessly sort through the pile of mail in your hands, shuffling back and forth and placing the right envelopes in their narrow, open compartments on the shelves. After a few minutes, however, you happen to notice that your particular cache of letters contains some very familiar names… With Shery on the opposite side of the shelf, you discreetly riffle through and confirm your suspicions. Blade, Trouble, Tallys… Somehow, you've ended up with several letters addressed to your companions! You can't help but feel a prickle of curiosity as you glance to both sides, ensuring that the aisle you're in is totally clear of observers. On the other side of the shelf, Shery continues to chat, oblivious as to what you're doing. You could risk taking a quick look at some of these letters, though you'll have to rely on your wits and sleight-of-hand to not get caught… and there is also the problem that most of them are sealed with wax. A certain cunning and deftness of touch could ensure that the recipients would never know their letters were opened… but if you're clumsy about it, any tampering would almost certainly get traced back to you. <<include "mailpeek">>

<<if $mail is 5>> <br> <<include "sherymailcaught">> <<else>> <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("blademail")>><<link '<div class="question-item">Take a peek at Blade's mail.</div>' 'blademail'>><<set $mail += 1>><<set $letters to random(1,3)>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("troublemail")>><<link '<div class="question-item">Take a peek at Trouble's mail.</div>' 'troublemail'>><<set $mail += 1>><<set $letters to random(1,3)>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("tallysmail")>><<link '<div class="question-item">Take a peek at Tallys's mail.</div>' 'tallysmail'>><<set $mail += 1>><<set $letters to random(1,3)>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("sherymail")>><<link '<div class="question-item">Take a peek at Shery's mail.</div>' 'sherymail'>><<set $mail += 1>><<set $letters to random(1,3)>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("rielmail")>><<link '<div class="question-item">Take a peek at Riel's mail.</div>' 'rielmail'>><<set $mail += 1>><<set $letters to random(1,3)>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("chasemail")>><<link '<div class="question-item">Take a peek at Chase's mail.</div>' 'chasemail'>><<set $mail += 1>><<set $letters to random(1,3)>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("redmail")>><<link '<div class="question-item">Take a peek at Red's mail.</div>' 'redmail'>><<set $mail += 1>><<set $letters to random(1,3)>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("aylamail")>><<link '<div class="question-item">Take a peek at Ayla's mail.</div>' 'aylamail'>><<set $mail += 1>><<set $letters to random(1,3)>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("halekmail")>><<link '<div class="question-item">Take a peek at Halek's mail.</div>' 'halekmail'>><<set $mail += 1>><<set $letters to random(1,3)>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("brionymail") and ($brionyjoin is true)>><<link '<div class="question-item">Take a peek at Briony's mail.</div>' 'brionymail'>><<set $mail += 1>><<set $letters to random(1,3)>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("lavinetmail") and ($lavinetjoin is true)>><<link '<div class="question-item">Take a peek at Lavinet's mail.</div>' 'lavinetmail'>><<set $mail += 1>><<set $letters to random(1,3)>><</link>><</if>> <<if $letters is 0>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Put the letters in their proper place without reading them. </div>' 'autogenerated_68930'>><<setloyal +5>><<setcompassionate +3>><<setcunning -1>><<setshery +3>><<set $sherystatus to "It's clear you enjoy spending time together, and she trusts you implicitly.">><</link>><</if>> </div><</nobr>> <</if>>

You dutifully sort each letter into the right box. Shery's head pops up around the shelf. "<<c firstname>>?" You look up with a smile. "Yes?" <<include 'sheryquestiondomesticity'>>

<<nobr>><<if $cunning < 70 or $strength < 70>> <<setblade -5>> You attempt to open the letter sneakily, but end up tearing the wax seal in an ugly and overt way. Oops. <<else>> <<setcunning +1>> <<setstrength +1>> You carefully open a plain, unadorned envelope addressed to Blade. <</if>><</nobr>> <<nobr>><<if $letters is 1>> <<set $loadPassage to Story.get("blademail1").text;>> <<letter_holder "casual" $loadPassage>> Looks like it's an ad from a smithery, asking Blade to show off their weapons so everyone will come clamoring for their products. Somehow you doubt the former assassin will take them up on their offer. <<elseif $letters is 2>> <<set $loadPassage to Story.get("blademail2").text;>> <<letter_holder "casual" $loadPassage>> …Looks like it's from, well, a secret admirer. You press your lips together and try not to laugh. <<else>> <<set $loadPassage to Story.get("blademail3").text;>> <<letter_holder "note" $loadPassage>> <br><br> Clearly, this is an encrypted message from one of your agents in the field, using various callsigns, cyphers, and codes. Even with your own knowledge, you can't really make heads or tails of it, but it doesn't seem that relevant to you, anyway. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "mailpeek">>

<i>To Commander Bronwyn of the Order of the Shepherds, </i> <i>My name is Laren Blackthorne, heiress of the famous Blackthorne smithing company here in Haven. I am writing to entice you with a business proposition. Your fearsome reputation as a swordsman has not gone unnoticed, and every warrior needs a weapon to match his prowess. If the Blackthorne Company were to sponsor you by providing you with the finest armor and blades this side of the Shield Peaks, our own reputation would be greatly bolstered by your association with our products. Even if you are not willing to replace your main weapon, even a day of publicly wearing a Blackthorne scimitar at your side, perhaps around the Market Quarter, could be subject to a handsome compensatory fee...</i>

<i>Dearest Commander of Mine Heart,</i> <i>Thine presence, like a moonbeam's gentle kiss,</i> <i>Doth grace the night, a vision fair to behold.</i> <i>With raven locks, and eyes, a deep abyss,</i> <i>Thy visage gleams in moon's soft, argent cold.</i> <i>Pale as winter's snow, and yet as warm as morn,</i> <i>Thy skin, a canvas for love's tender art.</i> <i>In onyx gaze, a tale of battles borne,</i> <i>A noble mind, a valiant, steadfast heart.</i> <i>Thy name, a melody that fills mine ears,</i> <i>A hero's anthem sung in fields of strife.</i> <i>In valor, unmatched, banishing all fears,</i> <i>Thou leadest with honor, a knightly life.</i> <i>If e'er the Fates permit our souls to twine,</i> <i>I'd count myself most blest—forever thine.</i> <i>With Love and Devotion,</i> <i>Your Secret Admirer</i>

<i>Commander, </i> <i>We've been following up on that lead you asked about. Phoenix tailed Serlast to the Torz and observed several exchanges being made between him and the members of the Pearl. No sign of C so far. I have Angel and Nightcrown on standby. Yamana is tuning her instruments. Expect another report in another sennight. If not, we've gone to ground.</i> <i>- Fang</i>

<<nobr>><<if ($cunning < 60) or ($strength < 60)>> <<setcunning -1>> You attempt to open the letter discreetly, but tear a corner of it open by mistake. You wonder if Trouble will even notice, though. <<else>> <<setcunning +1>> <<setstrength +1>> You open the letter carefully and discreetly, though you sort of doubt Trouble would have really noticed if you hadn't. <</if>><</nobr>> <<nobr>><<if $letters is 1>> <<set $loadPassage to Story.get("troublemail1").text;>> <<letter_holder "casual" $loadPassage>> It seems to be an ad from a bookshop in the Paper Alley called <i>The Spirit Library</i>. Trouble must be a regular there. <<elseif $letters is 2>> <<set $loadPassage to Story.get("troublemail2").text;>> <<letter_holder "note" $loadPassage>> <br><br> Looks like it's a (very loud) generic advertisement for a local armory that just opened up in Smoketown. <<else>> <<set $loadPassage to Story.get("troublemail3").text;>> <<letter_holder "casual" $loadPassage>> A note from a lovesick recruit, no doubt. You've noticed that Trouble tends to throw these away without even reading them, casually indifferent. It's almost enough to make you pity the sender. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "mailpeek">>

<i>Dear customer,</i> <i>As a courtesy to a loyal patron of our shop, we are writing to inform you that the latest novel in the <i><b>Legends of Eldrith</b></i> series has just released, and we have fresh copies in our stock! In this newest riveting title, <b><i>Saga of the Dragonhelm</i></b>, Eldrith continues his odyssey through the Shattered Realms, finding adventure, mystery, and perhaps even romance along the way...</i>

<i>HOWDY, GUNSLINGER!</i> <i>ARE YOU A PURVEYOR OF FINE FIREARMS AND ACCOUTREMENTS? DO YOU KNOW A GOOD GUN WHEN YOU SEE ONE? COME ON DOWN TO THE BLACKPOWDER EMPORIUM, WHERE YOU'LL FIND THE LATEST AND GREATEST IN THE WORLD OF WEAPONRY, GUNSMITHING, AND AMMUNITION...</i>

<i>Vice-Commander,</i> <i>You make my heart want to explode. Seeing you sets my nerves aflame, like gunpowder. Your steely gaze pierces my heart more than a bullet ever could. I adore you.</i> <i>Just wanted you to know that.</i> <i>- A Secret Admirer</i>

<<nobr>><<if ($cunning < 65) or ($strength < 65)>> <<settallys -5>> You open the letter as carefully as possible, but still end up crinkling the edge in a telltale way. Damn. <<else>> <<setcunning +1>> <<setstrength +1>> You open the letter seamlessly and with little trouble. <</if>><</nobr>> <<nobr>><<if $letters is 1>> This letter is written entirely in the Elvish <<if $heritage is "Elf">> script. <br><br> <<set $loadPassage to Story.get("tallysmail1").text;>> <<letter_holder "formal" $loadPassage>> So Tallys has been writing to Elven contacts of hers, encouraging them to send more recruits? Interesting... <<else>> script, and is incomprehensible to you beyond a few recognizable words like 'Tallys' and 'greetings.' <</if>> <<elseif $letters is 2>> <<set $loadPassage to Story.get("tallysmail2").text;>> <<letter_holder "note" $loadPassage>> <br><br> Looks like an ad from an apothecary Tallys frequents. She'll probably be disappointed that one of her favorite stores will be closing after such a 'short' time. <<else>> <<set $loadPassage to Story.get("tallysmail3").text;>> <<letter_holder "casual" $loadPassage>> …Yikes. You doubt Tallys will respond well to what is clearly an amateur's efforts at a love letter… <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "mailpeek">>

<i>Tallys'ion, From the Embrace of the Silver Streams, I Send You Greetings.</i> <i>I thank you for your inquiries after our health. My father is still hale, and plans to keep his seat as Speaker for some time hence. I still labor in my pursuit of perfect <i>cae'elum</i>, both in pottery and tea, while my sister invests her craft in dance, departing just three moonturns ago to study under Mistress Larethian at Battlesong Temple. It is my belief that she will ultimately be drawn towards the Discipline of Bladesong, though it is my cousin Tiriel's belief that she will dispense of her swords altogether and pursue the Way of the Riverstone...</i> [The letter continues for some time, rambling on in the typical wending Elvish fashion, before seeming to arrive to the point of the missive itself...] <i>Finally, I draw towards the heart of the matter. I was aware of your position as a leader in this new order, these Shepherds of the Autarch's flock. However, I find myself surprised that you would encourage our clan to send our young warriors to train with you. Haven strikes me as a dangerous place for Elves of Frostwood. When last I was there, it seemed a rude, uncouth city, still adolescent and half-formed. Each stone appeared covered with people jostling for room, and the air was acrid and foul with the scents of humanity crammed into too small a space. There was not a green thing in sight. It is hard to believe that sending our sore-needed rangers and hunters there would be prudent.</i> <i>This does not even touch on the kind of folk who occupy the city itself. We hear terrible things of crimes committed against young Elves in Haven. It is not Endarkened I fear so much as the people our warriors would be fighting alongside, or fighting to protect, if they were to join you. Although my trust in you as an individual is consummate, there is a certain wariness towards your subordinates, colleagues, superiors, and even the very civilians you safeguard.</i> <i>Perhaps this is a conversation that would be better had in person. If ever your journeys take you towards our enclave, we would be glad to receive you.</i>

<i>Dear customer,</i> <i>We are writing to inform you that we will be running a one-time only special sale here at our apothecary, <b>Tinctures and Vines</b>, to celebrate and finalize its closure at the end of the month. We have loyally served Ashtown for sixty years and have been proud to fulfill all of your alchemical and elixir-crafting needs. The owners will be retiring, but encourage their clients to patronize the potion shop <b>Dread, Wrath, and Beyond</b> down the street after <b>Tincture and Vine's</b> closure. Thank you.</i>

<i>To Captain Tallys,</i> <i>I have been enchanted by you ever since I first beheld you. The emerald pools of your gaze hold the secrets of a thousand woodland wonders, and in their depths, I find myself lost, willingly ensnared by their enchantment. Your chestnut tresses are as lovely as the strongest trees and as elusive as a fox's tail. Each day, I watch from afar, my heart entwined like the roots of a sacred grove, for in you, I have found an affection and admiration as boundless as the wilderness itself. Though my name remains a whispered secret on the breath of the wind, my affection for you blooms like the first buds of spring, unyielding and eternal.</i> <i>With endless devotion,</i> <i>Your secret admirer</i>

<<nobr>><<if ($cunning < 65) or ($strength < 65)>> <<setshery -5>> <<if $gender is "female">> <<set $sheryromanceflag -= 3>> <</if>> You try to open the letter clandestinely, but end up tearing it nearly in half. Oops. <<else>> <<setcunning +1>> <<setstrength +1>> You open the letter clandestinely and without issue. <</if>><</nobr>> <<nobr>><<if $letters is 1>> <<set $loadPassage to Story.get("sherymail1").text;>> <<letter_holder "casual" $loadPassage>> So Shery has a secret admirer—and it's someone who she's given baked goods to? But she gives out her pastries to everyone… some days, she even sets out whole platters full of extras or "subpar" experiments for people to graze on in the refectory. So this could be anybody! <<elseif $letters is 2>> <<set $loadPassage to Story.get("sherymail2").text;>> <<letter_holder "formal" $loadPassage>> <<else>> <<set $loadPassage to Story.get("sherymail3").text;>> <<letter_holder "note" $loadPassage>> <br><br> Mistress Honeysilk is the psuedonym of an erotica writer of middling fame… <br><br> Shery, Shery, Shery… <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "mailpeek">>

<i>Dearest Shery, so fair and so neat,</i> <i>In your presence, my heart skips a beat.</i> <i>Your shyness's a charm, your kindness, a treat,</i> <i>Thank you for your pastries—</i> <i>Love tastes so sweet!</i> <i>-Your Secret Admirer</i>

<i>Dear Miss Acquell,</i> <i>I am writing personally to thank you again for your generous donation to our humble church. It is thanks to your charity and largesse that we can hope to create a loving sanctuary for all, right here in the heart of Ashtown. It's people like you whom the light of the One-God shines through the most warmly. From the bottom of my heart, thank you.</i> <i>Warmest regards,</i> <i>Augur Yeon Summerglory</i>

<i>To Miss Acquell,</i> <i>Never fear, many customers write in to our shop rather than stopping in themselves: we ship books all over the Continent in the most discreet packaging.</i> <i>Regarding your inquiry, we currently have two volumes from Mistress Honeysilk: <b>The Enchantress's Embrace</b> and <b>The Siren's Song</b>. If you're seeking entries from her popular court intrigue series, <b>Affairs of the Court</b>, we can place a special order and should have the books here at our shop within the fortnight (three sennights at the most, barring shipping delays). Please note that the special illustrated editions and the standard "blank cover" editions are priced separately.</i> <i>At your service,</i> <i>Crimson Pages Bookstore</i>

<<nobr>><<if ($cunning < 75) or ($strength < 75)>> <<setriel -7>> <<if $gender is "male">> <<set $rielromanceflag -= 1>> <</if>> You try to prise open the wax seal in such a way that it looks like it was simply damaged in the mailing process, but end up making your tampering painfully obvious—especially for a keen eye like Riel's. <<else>> <<setcunning +1>> <<setstrength +1>> You manage to prise open the wax seal with your fingernail in such a way that you'll be able to press it neatly back on, hopefully without Riel noticing. <</if>><</nobr>> <<nobr>><<if $letters is 1>> The letter seems to be from a 'Mssr. Cavin Hodon,' writing to Riel on behalf of 'The Ravenhead Trading House.' What follows is a dizzying array of business, contract, and legal lingo, but from what you can piece together, Master Hodon is thanking Riel for his generous investment in the Ravenhead syndicate, delivering a report on their quarterly earnings and various recent business maneuvers, and finally informing him that a cheque for his 'fixed annuity plan' is enclosed, reiterating that he can expect to receive a cheque with this sum every year henceforth in perpetuity. <br><br> You glance at the amount listed on the cheque and feel your jaw drop. This sum could pay for your cost of living in Haven for ten years or more! And he'll be getting this <i>every year</i>? And this is probably a minor investment for him, out of several dozens of business ventures you already know him to be a part of… <br><br> You always knew Riel was a wealthy man, but seeing it in a plain number like this is something else! <<elseif $letters is 2>> <<set $loadPassage to Story.get("rielmail2").text;>> <<letter_holder "casual" $loadPassage>> Interesting... <<else>> <<set $loadPassage to Story.get("rielmail3").text;>> <<letter_holder "formal" $loadPassage>> Ashcroft? You wonder who that could be... <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "mailpeek">>

<i>Dear Riel,</i> <i>I hope you've been keeping well, getting enough sleep, and looking after your health (though I know you aren't). Dom and I are doing just fine. Retirement suits us. He's thinking of taking the dog to pet fairs and shows to sell breeding rights—can you believe that? And I've been puttering away in my garden, though my knees complain when I kneel too long in the clover.</i> <i>I've been rereading the classics lately, and I came across that old fraud Talua. Brings back memories, doesn't it? 'Nothing is more than what it is.' Ah, I remember how that used to make your blood boil. You were always so opinionated, even when you were young. It's enough to make an old man reminisce. (And yes, I know I'm not that old. I don't need you to tell me that, young buck.)</i> <i>Yes, we had heard about the Shepherds, here in our little corner of the world, and I can't say I'm too surprised to hear you've fallen in with them. You never could resist those great hallmarks of change... I only hope you don't venture too close and melt your wings off. You know the Endarkened don't care how smart you are, I'm assuming?</i> [What follows is a few pages of what seems to be standard and familial-sounding chitchat, debriefing Riel on names and relations you don't recognize.] <i>From what I know, Aemilia has gone to live with her family in Courtshore, and is living a quiet widowhood there.</i> And: <i>I'm sure you've already heard, but Danton Sixton is facing a tribunal and is likely to go to prison for ten years.</i> <i>If you ever find yourself needing to get away from things, our humble cottage is always here.</i> <i>Your friend, Quentin Makepeace.</i>

<i>To Riel:</i> <i>I'll be in town on business from Loa 30 to Loa 52. If you feel like having dinner, send me a note at the Exalt Hotel.</i> <i>Ashcroft</i>

<<nobr>><<if ($cunning < 70) or ($strength < 70)>> <<if ($chasesex is true) or ($chaseromance is true) or ($chaseromanceflag >= 8)>> <<set $chaseromanceflag -= 5>> <<else>> <<setchase +1>> <</if>> <<else>> <<setcunning +1>> <<setstrength +1>> <</if>> <<if ($chaseread is true) or ($chasetime > 2)>> Most people who know him well don't bother sending Chase important information through letters and mail, for obvious reasons... There are a few unlucky strangers who aren't aware of his 'reluctance' to read, however. <br><br> <</if>> <<if $letters is 1>> <<set $loadPassage to Story.get("chasemail1").text;>> <<letter_holder "note" $loadPassage>> <br><br> <<elseif $letters is 3 and $chaseread is true>> <<set $loadPassage to Story.get("chasemail2").text;>> <<letter_holder "note" $loadPassage>> <br><br> <<else>> <<set $loadPassage to Story.get("chasemail3").text;>> <<letter_holder "casual" $loadPassage>> <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "mailpeek">>

<i>Dear Esteemed Adventurer,</i> <i>I hope this missive finds you in good health and high spirits. I am Prince Elarion, heir to the throne of Elinden. Fate has intertwined our paths, and I beseech your noble assistance in a matter of great urgency.</i> <i>Our kingdom is facing dire peril, and we require a valiant champion such as yourself to aid us. As a gesture of gratitude for your service, I offer a reward of untold riches, ancient artifacts, and the legendary Sword of Starlight, said to possess the power to vanquish even the darkest of foes.</i> <i>To facilitate this noble endeavor, I humbly request a nominal sum of gold to cover the costs of the ship that will transport you to Elinden to aid us in our time of need. Rest assured, this investment shall be returned to you tenfold upon your triumphant arrival.</i> <i>Kindly respond swiftly with your consent, and we shall make haste to secure your passage to our realm. May the stars align in our favor and lead you safely to our shores.</i> <i>In the Name of Honor and Glory,</i> <i>Prince Elarion of Elinden</i> <i>P.S. Please do not share this correspondence with anyone, for the safety of our kingdom relies on utmost discretion.</i>

<i>To Mister Trinaeste:</i> <i>This is a courtesy notice reminding you that you have several books on layaway order here at <b>The Spirit Library</b>. These include <b>Myths and Legends: Stories for Children</b>, <b>Fables and Fairytales of the East</b>, and the requested writing and alphabet ledgers and workbooks. We look forward to serving you further soon.</i> <i>Regards,</i> <i>The Spirit Library Bookshop</i> <i>42 Paper Alley, Haven</i>

<i>Dearest Chase,</i> <i>You are famous for many things: your rogueish charm, athletic grace, perfect looks, and untold skills are just a few. Yet I see your dashing playboy ways and wonder if it's all a mask that veils the depths of your true self. Beneath it all, I sense a heart yearning for something more, something genuine. It is this mystery that draws me closer, tempting me to reach out and unravel the layers that shield your deepest vulnerabilities.</i> <i>Perhaps it is folly to be entranced by one so elusive, so adept at slipping through the grasp of those who would seek to know you. You are like a black cat: not an ill omen, but an enigma prone to eluding the touch of those who would catch him, subsequently melting away into the night. Yet, I cannot deny the pull, the magnetic force that draws me to you! Frequently I find myself dreaming of you, of the things you could do to me... and what I could do for you.</i> <i>Should you ever wish to step beyond the shadows, to reveal the man behind the legend, know that my heart awaits you, open and unguarded.</i> <i>Until then,</i> <i>Your secret admirer</i>

<<nobr>><<if ($cunning < 65) or ($strength < 65)>> <<setred -5>> You attempt to open the letter discreetly, but you're not sure if you've done a good enough job of it to elude Red's attention. Well, nothing you can do about it now... <<else>> <<setcunning +1>> <<setstrength +1>> You open the letter neatly and efficiently. <</if>> <br><br> <<if $letters is 1>> <<set $loadPassage to Story.get("redmail1").text;>> <<letter_holder "formal" $loadPassage>> A letter from a secret admirer. The funny thing about this is, there's no date given for this proposed rendezvous besides 'midnight,' so the hypothetical meeting could have already come and gone days ago, depending on how frequently Red checks his mail. The hopeful sender clearly didn't think that one through... <<elseif $letters is 2>> <<set $loadPassage to Story.get("redmail2").text;>> <<letter_holder "casual" $loadPassage>> <<if ($redrelationship is "ex") or ($redrelationship is "friend")>> You smile to yourself. You always liked Red's forthright and outspoken oldest sister, Idalia... <<if $redromanceflag >= 10>> Even if her words still give you cause to blush. <<else>> Though she can be far more blunt than her younger brother. <</if>> <</if>> <<else>> This letter has the fizz of magic, when your fingertips touch its fine paper. Frowning, you scan through what seems to be a tedious accounting of paper supplies and sundries that Red has ordered... but when you snap the thread of the spell over it, the words on the page instantly blur and shift until they display something else entirely. A magically-encrypted message? <br><br> <<set $loadPassage to Story.get("redmail3").text;>> <<letter_holder "formal" $loadPassage>> There's also a seal that you recognize as the insignia of an Archmage, and the envelope is postmarked from Calta. Seems like Red is familiar with another Circle there... <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "mailpeek">>

<i>My Most Excellent Archmage:</i> <i>Between dusty tomes and ancient lore,</i> <i>I've glimpsed your shadow by the library door.</i> <i>If you seek knowledge and perhaps a bit more,</i> <i>Meet me at midnight on the top library floor.</i> <i>With Whispered Words,</i> <i>Your Secret Admirer</i>

<i>Red,</i> <i>Sending you my bi-quarterly note to let you know that I'm not dead. Currently up in Thielwood: the Elves near Tyra are proving to be very gracious hosts, though I admit to being almost bored to tears nightly by all of the poetry recitations. They have a very interesting set of traditions here, where the hosts of group dinners are expected to hire and provide some kind of entertainment. For <b>every</b> dinner, even if it's just with family! Sometimes it's very tame, like a wood-carving demonstration or a brief tea ceremony (brief for the Elves, anyway) before dinner, and other times it's... more interesting. Remind me to tell you about it when we see each other next.</i> <i>Yes, I picked up the letters you sent to Mum and Dad when I stopped by to look in on them. Mum's looking healthy, isn't she? I think semi-retirement suits them both. And Lydda's just the same, fighting for more funding to expand the archives at her Library. I'm not sure about Gwyn's new girlfriend, but I'll hold off on forming any opinions until you get a chance to meet her, too. Haven't heard much from Isodel, but she writes to Mum and Dad regularly enough. Just hope she's not spending gobs of money on new dresses like last time.</i> <i>How's life with the Shepherds? Still having trouble wrapping my head around the fact that my little brother is careening around with the paramilitary order that seems to have everyone's tongues wagging, even this far North. It seems as if a sennight hardly passes before I hear some passerby or townsfolk tramping along the road gossiping about your order's latest derring-do. I always smile slyly to myself, thinking that I could connect the names you tell me about in your letters to these (surely overblown) tales. So your prickly commander who always keeps to himself—is he really a former assassin? You'd better watch out: I could just see you falling asleep over your books one late night, missing the dawn revue, and getting skewered by a Ket sword for your impertinence.</i> <i>I've been keeping my eye out for any lore about your Worldwalkers, but predictably, there's been nothing yet. Most of the channels I can think of, I'm already sure you've tried; but I'll keep my ears open.</i> <i>Got to run, but I'll see you home for the holidays.</i> <i>Love,</i> <i>Idalia</i> <<nobr>><<if (($education is "Circle-trained") and ($redromanceflag >= 10)) or ($redrelationship is "ex")>> <br><br> <i>P.S. How's <<c firstname>>? Have you two fallen passionately into each other's arms yet? You might as well get a move on, it's been long enough.</i> <</if>><</nobr>>

<i>Red,</i> <i>Certainly, I can dig into our archives and see if I can find anything that will help you in your search for the Synestra. In return, I ask that you take a look in your own collection: I remember Archmage Tevanti as being something of an expert on Thupan Odexeor and his theorems on extraplanar bindings. If you happen to come across the third volume of his <b>Seventh Folio: Mystagogical Revelations</b>, I would be most grateful to borrow it for a few months.</i> <i>If we should end up finding something of interest for either party, would I be remiss in paying a visit to your new lodgings in Haven? I admit, I find myself curious about these Shepherds, and the system you briefly outlined in your last missive is... intriguing, to say the least. Could all Circles eventually be absorbed and protected in such a way?</i> <i>Looking forward to hearing back from you,</i> <i>Itrix Enolin</i>

<<nobr>><<if ($cunning < 55) or ($strength < 55)>> <<setayla -1>> <<else>> <<setcunning +1>> <<setstrength +1>> <</if>> <<if $letters is 1>> <<set $loadPassage to Story.get("aylamail1").text;>> <<letter_holder "casual" $loadPassage>> ...<<c god>>. Why are people like this?... <<elseif $letters is 2>> <<set $loadPassage to Story.get("aylamail2").text;>> <<letter_holder "note" $loadPassage>> <br><br> <<else>> <<set $loadPassage to Story.get("aylamail3").text;>> <<letter_holder "note" $loadPassage>> <br><br> <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "mailpeek">>

<i>To fairest Ayla,</i> <i>You take my breath away. Your mastery and strength leave me weak at the knees. When I look into your amber eyes, I see a tempest of passion and determination, swirling like a desert storm. In your presence, I feel the gentle caress of the breeze, and the fierce gusts of a raging sandstorm. You are both tender zephyr and relentless gale, a force of nature that commands my admiration and affection. I am drawn to you, not just for the power you wield, but for the kindness and strength that reside within your heart. You are a tempestuous temptress, fierce yet tender, and I find myself utterly captivated by you.</i> <i>If you would have me, I would make myself your humblest servant. Together we would weather any storm that comes our way. I love, I love, I love you!</i> <i>Most ardently,</i> <i>Your secret admirer</i>

<i>To Captain Aescar,</i> <i>This is Helvud Dimernos—owner of that bar you tore up the other night. You said I could write to you at this address if I changed my mind and decided I wanted you to pay for damages.</i> <i>Don't worry, this isn't about that. Been talking things over with my wife and daughters... Those Doomsmith boys have been coming around here and making trouble since One-God knows when. Ever since you put them in their place, they haven't shown their ugly mugs in this whole <b>neighborhood</b>.</i> <i>I know you Shepherds are busy defending the city and all, but... ever think about making some extra coin as a bouncer? Come by again and let's talk.</i> <i>H. Dimernos</i> <i>Thirteenth Hour Tavern and Inn</i> <br><br>

<i>Deer Miss Captain Escar,</i> <i>Thank you for saveing me and my little bruther from the andarken. You are my hero! We were so scared, but when you made it go away with your magick winds, it was liek sumthing out of a story book! I want to be like you when I am growned up. You are strong and kind. My momy says thank you too. I hope I can meet you agian sumday. My bruther made a draweing for you too.</i> <i>Thank you miss Captain Ayla Escar! You are the best!</i> <i>Noelene Padget</i>

<<nobr>><<if ($cunning < 60) or ($strength < 60)>> <<setcunning -1>> <<else>> <<setcunning +1>> <<setstrength +1>> <</if>> <<if $letters is 1>> <<set $loadPassage to Story.get("halekmail1").text;>> <<letter_holder "formal" $loadPassage>> <<elseif $letters is 2>> <<set $loadPassage to Story.get("halekmail2").text;>> <<letter_holder "note" $loadPassage>> <br><br> <<else>> <<set $loadPassage to Story.get("halekmail3").text;>> <<letter_holder "formal" $loadPassage>> <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "mailpeek">>

<i>Diru,</i> <i>All is well in hand here. I won't bother telling you that you're sorely missed here, since it will only serve to make you feel guilty, or you'll wave it off and deflect it. In actuality, everything seems to be running smoothly. The population has completely recovered from the Wildfire Fever, our patrols and borderlands have proved quiet of late (ever since the passes have been filled with snow), and training has resumed at both the Citadel and the White Sanctum.</i> [Several pages follow, detailing the current state of the Reach and its people, as well as answering specific questions Halek seemed to have posed in his last letter. The sender asks his own, mostly about how Halek has been settling in with the Shepherds (and if they're treating him with the "proper respect").] <i>...As for us, Mother is doing well and in high spirits. I am the same. I've been enjoying taking rides and practicing my hawking as the weather permits. I won't bother answering your crass question from the last letter—I don't have time to 'stick my hraqa in a practice target,' as you so charmingly put it.</i> <i>Speaking of, Moonsilk keeps asking if she can write a letter of her own and send it along with one of mine. I've fended her off so far, but her clan elders, particularly her father, are beginning to vocalize their impatience again. I know she's being punished for the awful things she did to <<c rank>> <<c surname>>, but you know <b>you're</b> going to have to speak to her at some point, don't you? They're pushing for the wedding to take place as soon as this whole crisis is over and you're back from the Shepherds. I assume you'd rather have a marriage on speaking terms rather than dead silence? The longer you ignore her, the more you'll be punishing yourself in the long run, brother.</i> <i>Take care of yourself,</i> <i>Naolin</i>

<i>Dear customer,</i> <i>We thank you for being such a diligent patron of our store, <b>Salt and Herb.</b> While we normally sell the finest ingredients, aromatics, and cookware on this side of the Shield Peaks, we would like to announce a special event taking place in our establishment on 44 Loa. Famed chef and author of the cookbook <b>Pearltongue: Recipes from the Continent</b> Gracia Thalamie will be present to sign copies of her book (which we will be selling) as well as holding a demonstration and tasting for the cooking enthusiasts among our clientele. We hope to see you at this special, once-in-a-lifetime event.</i> <i>Thank you for your patronage.</i> <i>Salt and Herb</i>

<i>Dear Captain Halek Prince,</i> <i>My name is Onezime Dumazid. I am the president of the Fellowship of Admirers for the Order of the Shepherds, though we informally call ourselves the Flock. We are proud to represent the most dedicated group of loyalists and supporters to the Shepherds on this side of the Continent!</i> <i>Although I have written both to Miss Shery Acquell, your lovely quartermaster, and Commander Blade Bronwyn, your heroic commander, regarding potential meetings, events, and tours that can be coordinated between ourselves and your order, I would like to pose a more specific question to you, Captain Prince. Truth be told, you have been the subject of much passionate debate between certain members of our group! It would be a great boon if you would deign to settle our arguments once and for all.</i> <i>If you are comfortable, please tell us:</i> <i>Exactly how tall are you? Please be as specific as possible.</i> <i>And are you currently single?</i> <i>Thank you very much for your time.</i> <i>With great hope and admiration,</i> <i>Onezime Dumazid</i> <i>President</i> <i>Fellowship of Admirers for the Order of the Shepherds</i>

<<if $brionyjoin is true>> <<if ($cunning < 60) or ($strength < 60)>> You try to open the letter with care, but end up clumsily rumpling the envelope in an obvious way. <<setbriony -1>> <<else>> <<setcunning +1>> <<setstrength +1>> You open the letter with perfect discretion. <</if>> <br><br> <<if $letters is 1>> <<set $loadPassage to Story.get("brionymail1").text;>> <<letter_holder "note" $loadPassage>> <br><br> <<elseif $letters is 2 and $brionyhate is false>> <<set $loadPassage to Story.get("brionymail2").text;>> <<letter_holder "casual" $loadPassage>> <<else>> <<set $loadPassage to Story.get("brionymail3").text;>> <<letter_holder "casual" $loadPassage>> Yeesh. <</if>> <</if>> <<include "mailpeek">>

<i>Dear Captain Stormbreaker,</i> <i>My name is Kiehli Dhonsho. I'm a recruiter for the Freeborn Blades: the fiercest, toughest, and most famous company of mercenaries and sellswords on the Continent. Happened to be in the Wolf's Den the other night when I saw you take out those three Sarva braves without even batting an eye. Couldn't get the fight out of my head, and turns out, neither could my captain. He wants to know—how much are the Shepherds paying you? We're pretty sure we could give you double that pay, if not more.</i> <i>If you're not interested in leaving them, fine. But have you ever thought of throwing your hat into the <i>panton-keras</i> street fights down by the docks? A pretty bruiser like you would make a killing there—figuratively. And if you need an insider to leverage you into bigger and better fights in exchange for a cut of your earnings... let's talk. Our headquarters are right here in Haven.</i> <i>L.D.</i>

<i>Dear Briony,</i> <i>I'm glad to hear you're doing so well with the Shepherds.</i> <<nobr>><<if $gladiatorjoin is true>> <i>I suppose I'm not too surprised to hear that Staghead is proving popular, though I am a little surprised that Mountain Jackal has stuck around.</i> <</if>><</nobr>> <i>We're all doing fine here as well. I fell ill for several sennights and am just now recovering my strength. It's nothing to worry about—I'm told that it's normal, to fall into this kind of fit after a long period of stress on the body. You know how it is: we saw it in the arena, from time to time. When a long strain is removed, of a sudden... one can grow... a bit childish. I became very weak, for a time, and I was suddenly prone to fits of trembling and weeping. But Cazuril assured me that I wasn't mad, merely nervous. And I have grown better and stronger since then, and am mostly recovered now. My boy Callon has been a dear. He is so strong, kind, and brave. I must confess, never have I been more grateful for my—our—Elvish blood. Although we were robbed of a year together, if I live half as long as I'm supposed to, one day that time will be the mere flash of a dream.</i> <i>We are not yet ready to travel so far from Thielwood, but perhaps we can come visit you next fall or winter. In the meantime, please, tell me everything you've been seeing and learning. Tell me of your new friends, of your dreams and loves. Of Gonturan and your ahfuri, your travels and your questions. Have you learned anything about your past?</i> <i>I never believed we would both make it out of Heth Macoll alive. Now that we have, I intend to treasure everything, hoarding every moment with the greed of a near-drowned man hauled to the surface and gasping for breath. I hope you will, too. I am glad we have both found peace and happiness. Let's cling to that with all our might.</i> <i>Your friend,</i> <i>Nathe of Raloven</i>

<i>Fair Maiden Briony,</i> <i>A lovely woman always deserves to be serenaded. Here is my attempt, which may prove a vain effort at capturing your beauty. Nonetheless:</i> <i>Your eyes, like amethysts, deep and bright,</i> <i>Hold the secrets of star-dust'd night.</i> <i>With hair as pink as blossoms in spring,</i> <i>At your glance, my heart takes wing.</i> <i>With lips as rosy as morning's blush,</i> <i>My blood turns to flame, all in a rush.</i> <i>A fallen star, strength deep as seas,</i> <i>A force of nature, steadfast as trees.</i> <i>A spirit unconfined, a passion untamed,</i> <i>A sword unshattered, a love unnamed.</i> <i>O Briony, in thee, true beauty lies,</i> <i>A soul aglow beneath boundless skies.</i> <i>With Endless Devotion,</i> <i>Your Lovesick Bard</i>

<<if $lavinetjoin is true>> <<if ($cunning < 65) or ($strength < 65)>> <<setlavinet -5>> You do your best to be sneaky, but you doubt your efforts will get past Lavinet's well-trained eye. <<else>> <<setcunning +1>> <<setstrength +1>> You open the letter neatly and without trouble. The letter inside is perfumed so heavily that you have to suppress the urge to sneeze. <</if>> <br><br> <<if $letters is 1>> <<set $loadPassage to Story.get("lavinetmail1").text;>> <<letter_holder "formal" $loadPassage>> <<elseif $letters is 2 and (($prihinesafe is true) or ($bothsafe is true)) and ($rielinvestigation is true) and ($part < 9)>> <<set $loadPassage to Story.get("lavinetmail2").text;>> <<letter_holder "formal" $loadPassage>> <<if ($prihineromance is true) and ($numberofromances is 0)>> Your heart, despite itself, does a little clutch as you stare down at Prihine's name. You can't help but wonder if your name will come up in conversation at all... <</if>> <<elseif $letters is 2>> It's a very formally-written invitation to a dinner party, penned stiffly by a servant's hand; from the print-like quality of their penmanship, they must be used to making many copies of such missives. <br><br> <<set $loadPassage to Story.get("lavinetmail3").text;>> <<letter_holder "formal" $loadPassage>> <<else>> <<set $loadPassage to Story.get("lavinetmail4").text;>> <<letter_holder "formal" $loadPassage>> It's not terrible, but you wonder if it's up to snuff compared to the usual poems and love letters Lavinet has received from such admirers—from princes, lordlings, bards, and even actors, if her nonchalant allusions are to be believed. <</if>> <</if>> <<include "mailpeek">>

<i>Dear Lavinet,</i> <i>I suppose I won't have to waste parchment in telling how much we miss you, and how deeply your absence is felt here in Lockwood. I know that your place is in Haven, and that you are helping innocents as well as taking strides towards your own future... but I confess to some late nights spent haunted by visions of you being skewered by an Endarkened claw, being kidnapped by ghouls or vampires or whatever other monstrous creatures we used to read in those silly books, or simply collapsing of exhaustion somewhere on some bloody battlefield. Pendric says I am terribly morbid in my thinking, but you will be careful, won't you?</i> <i>Estora and Camilla seem to be enjoying themselves greatly now that they're home. You would never say so, so I will pose the question for you: I wonder if much of their silliness has been the result of knowing that you were always the heiress of Lockwood and had everything well in hand. They never bothered to be serious because there was no need to be. But now that they've been given the chance to prove themselves, to step out of your (unintentional) shadow... I think it has been good for them.</i> <i>Forgive my blunt speaking: the only person I've written such lengthy missives to was Pendric, all those years he was away, and I became accustomed to wielding my quill with more bluntness and honesty than I would in speech. Your father remains in solemn spirits, and we hardly dare speak of you while in the same room as him, but I think he is beginning to grow accustomed to the situation nonetheless. It may not sound like it, but having your sisters home has improved his mood immensely.</i> [What follows is half a dozen pages, detailing the current state of Lockwood, the Elementals, a few questions about estate finances, and finally what looks to be salient gossip about noble names you don't recognize much. At the very end, Clara says cryptically:] <i>Regarding my last letter... it was a false alarm, after all. My courses began, albeit very late; the physicker gave me a tonic for anemia, and I'm already feeling much better for it. I think I am relieved. It means we can take the wedding-planning at our leisure, after all, and without the specter of scandal looming over us.</i> <i>I know you mentioned saltwort, but where would someone like us be able to procure such a thing discreetly?</i> <i>All of our love,</i> <i>Clara</i>

<i>L:</i> <i>Yes, we'll be glad to have you for dinner. I'll invite some friends—we're all quite enamored with the card game Penta. Are you familiar with it?</i> <i>Let's set a date for the 13th.</i> <i>From the desk of </i> <span class="prihinesignature">Prihine Naveen</span>

<i>Lord Romar Ardelay and Lady Amerie Ardelay request the pleasure of Lady Lavinet Naveen's company at dinner on Luinday at seventh nightbell.</i> [And then, underneath, penned in a careless, almost slapdash manner:] <i>Do come, dear; we shall not consider it complete without your presence. I shall take no denial. Our cousin Alystair is visiting from the North, so you shall not be in want of friendly or familiar faces. -A</i>

<i>To the Radiant Lady Lavinet Naveen:</i> <i>In realms of grace, where beauty holds its throne,</i> <i>There walks a presence fair, and fair alone.</i> <i>With charms that rival dawn's first golden ray,</i> <i>Thy visage graces night and brightens day.</i> <i>Oh, Lady of the court, with wisdom vast,</i> <i>In every glance, a thousand darts cast.</i> <i>Thy grace, a dance, a symphony of bliss,</i> <i>Each step, a sonnet sung, a tender kiss.</i> <i>If words could paint the depths of this heart's yearn,</i> <i>'Twould be a tapestry, where love doth burn.</i> <i>With reverence and awe, I pen this plea,</i> <i>For in thy light, my heart finds ecstasy.</i> <i>Yours in adoration and humble servitude,</i> <i>Anonymous</i>

Quite suddenly, Shery's head pops up around the shelf. "<<c firstname>>?" <<nobr>><<if $cunning >= 55 and $strength >= 55>> <<setcunning +1>> <<setstrength +1>> <<set $sherystatus to "It's clear you enjoy spending time together, and she trusts you implicitly.">> You smoothly and discretely deposit your damning evidence into the right box, without Shery ever noticing anything was amiss. "Yes?" <br><br> <<include "sheryquestiondomesticity">> <<else>> <<set $sherystatus to "She caught you snooping through others' mail... Oops.">> You jump, then try to discreetly rid yourself of the damning evidence before Shery notices. However, your fumbling movements only serve to draw her attention to what you're doing, and her blue eyes widen in surprise. She takes in a quiet breath as she clearly puts together the picture… <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Try to talk your way out of it—this is not what it looks like!</div>' 'trytotalkoutofitshery'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Try to downplay your gaffe: this is no big deal.</div>' 'trytodownplayshery'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Admit to what you were doing.</div>' 'autogenerated_68931'>><<setcourage +1>><<setcunning -5>><<setshery -8>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <</if>><</nobr>>

"It was just a quick peek," you admit guiltily. Shery looks utterly scandalized, but also at a loss of what to do. She stares at you for a moment, her expression both appalled and utterly flabbergasted, before she says slowly, "Um… I… see. Well… would you mind putting it back? I don't think the recipient would appreciate you reading their mail…" You hastily drop the envelope into its compartment, but there's no saving the awkward silence that falls between the two of you after that. Looking dismayed, Shery blinks rapidly for a moment, then says, "Er… I think I can finish this up on my own… Thank you for your help?" The question in her voice and the clear dismissal is as harsh of a reprisal as you're going to get from the normally-timid quartermaster. Nodding briefly, you hand her the rest of the envelopes and make yourself scarce. <<include 'sheryover'>>

<<nobr>><<if ($charisma >= 65 and $compassionate >= 80) or ($cunning >= 70 and $charisma >= 70)>> <<setcharisma +1>> "I noticed that this envelope was torn already," you tell her. "I was just trying to seal it back up before putting it in the right box." <br><br> Shery's face relaxes into an expression of naked relief. "Oh, I see," she says breathlessly—then she laughs. "That makes sense. Sometimes the mail caravans can be a bit rough, especially on envelopes that have traveled the breadth of the King's Road… I'm sure if it's normal wear and tear, the recipient won't mind." <br><br> "I hope so," you answer with a false smile. Mentally, you're wiping your brow. It seems like you got away with it free and clear. <br><br> Shery turns back to business as you deposit the rest of the envelopes. After a moment, she adds, <<include "sheryquestiondomesticity">> <<else>> <<setshery -10>> <<set $sheryromanceflag -= 5>> <<setcharisma -1>> <<setcunning -1>> Shery stares at you for a long moment, blinking silently. It's clear she <i>wants</i> to believe your gabbled lie—<i>it was already like this! I was just sealing it back up!</i>—but it's also equally evident that she doesn't. After an excruciatingly-awkward silence falls between the two of you, she says slowly, "I… see. Well… thank you?" <br><br> She's clearly at a loss of what else to say—as are you. The two of you hesitantly return to your sorting, but you don't speak for the rest of your time together. When you're finally finished, you leave Shery to the rest of her tasks and quickly make yourself scarce. She doesn't say much as you go. <br><br> <<include "sheryover">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if ($charisma >= 75 and $cunning >= 75) or ($compassionate < 45 and $charisma >= 75)>> <<setcompassionate -1>> <<setcunning +1>> <<setcharisma +1>> <<setshery -1>> Shery's brow wrinkles. "It's not?" <br><br> You laugh it off with a careless demeanor. "There was a little tear in the envelope, and I just happened to have a quick peek at what was inside. It wasn't even anything serious—just some junk mail. Chase or Ayla would have done the same thing. Everyone snoops." <br><br> Shery frowns, but she sounds hesitant as she says slowly, "I don't." <br><br> "Come on, really?" you press. "You've never taken notice of the details in someone's room when you had to let yourself in for some reason or another? You haven't glanced at an open book on their desk, or looked at Briony or Red or Riel's notebook while they were working on some personal project in the library?" <br><br> Shery still looks doubtful, but it's clear she <i>wants</i> to believe you—if only to avoid uncomfortable conflict. "I suppose that makes sense," she says slowly. She bites her lip. "But, um, could you please n-not do it anymore? I can't imagine people would be very happy if all of their mail was… peeked at." <br><br> "Done," you say graciously, and after another moment, Shery's look clears into one of tentative—if still confused—relief. <br><br> You return to your sorting, and after a few moments of awkward silence, Shery rallies and tries to forge past it. <<include "sheryquestiondomesticity">> <<else>> <<setcharisma -3>> <<setshery -10>> <<set $sheryromanceflag -= 8>> <<setcunning -1>> Shery stares at you for a long moment, blinking silently. It's clear she <i>wants</i> to believe your excuse—<i>I was just snooping! Everybody does it!</i>—but it's also equally evident that she can't. After an excruciatingly-awkward silence falls between the two of you, she says slowly, "Well… could you please not do that? I don't think people would be very happy if all of their mail was… read like that. I know I wouldn't be." <br><br> The disappointment in her voice is clear, and coming from the normally-timid quartermaster, it's as harsh as a reprisal as any. You nod and attempt to return to your sorting, but the awkward silence that falls between the two of you—and Shery's watchful eyes on your back—shortly becomes unbearable. After a while, you make your excuses, handing her the rest of the envelopes and quickly making yourself scarce. <br><br> <<include "sheryover">> <</if>><</nobr>>

"Could I ask you a question? Erm… Quartermaster to <<c rank>>, as it were?" You nod, looking at her over your shoulder expectantly. Shery bites her lip, tugging absently on a hank of her pale blonde hair as she says, "While you've been away, I've been brainstorming on how to make the Shepherds' compound feel more like a <i>home</i>. I kept thinking while you were at the Reach that it must be so miserable for you field agents, having to be away for weeks in the snow and mud… Wouldn't it be nice to be able to come home to a place that was truly welcoming and comforting and inviting? I d-don't want our headquarters to only be a military barracks, a place to lay your head, sleep, and train. I want it to be…" "A sanctuary?" you put in when she trails off. Shery's face brightens. "Yes, exactly! And I'm wondering what more I could do to accomplish that. Is there anything that would make this place feel more homely to you?" "What kinds of suggestions are you looking for?" you ask. Shery flaps both her hands in a wordless gesture. "Anything you can think of. Maybe the place needs more curtains, or warmer colors, or banners to cover up all this stone… Maybe there was something that your family did that would bring you comfort, a candle in the window, a plant by the doorstep, the smell of baking bread in the kitchen…" She suddenly cuts herself off with a sharp, embarrassed gasp, her eyes flying to you to gauge your reaction to what could be a painful reminder of your past. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You've already turned away, feeling as if you've been punched in the gut. "I don't want to talk about that."</div>' 'autogenerated_68932'>><<setshery -5>><<set $sheryromanceflag -5>><<setcharisma -1>><<setcourage -1>><<set $traumatized += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You smile reassuringly at her. "It's all right. I don't mind talking about it."</div>' 'sherycomfort1'>><<setshery +3>><<setcompassionate +2>><<setcharisma +2>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Pretend you didn't notice anything. "Let's see..."</div>' 'sheryhomeysuggestions'>><<setshery +1>><<setcunning +1>><<setcharisma +1>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Shery's face is suffused with red; she bows her head in shame and says, very quietly, "I'm so sorry. I wasn't thinking…" You don't say much in return, and the silence that falls between the two of you is too profoundly stiff to recover from. After a short while of sorting in silence, you eventually give your excuses and make a swift exit. Shery bites her lip, but isn't able to protest as you go. <<include 'sheryover'>>

<<nobr>><<if $gender is "female">> <<set $sheryromanceflag += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> Shery smiles querulously back at you. "I'm sorry," she says softly. "That was careless of me. I didn't mean…" You shake your head. "I told you, it's all right. Let me think…" <<include "sheryhomeysuggestions">>

You try and think of things you would do to make the compound homelier. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Honestly, I wouldn't change a thing. You've already done such an amazing job as it is."</div>' 'autogenerated_68933'>><<setshery +3>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Maybe you could add more soft furnishings in the leisure areas? More rugs, cushions, and tapestries could really soften the place up."</div>' 'sheryfurnishings1'>><<setintelligence +1>><<setshery +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I think we need more indoor plants in the hallways. Turn the cold stone corridors into spaces full of color and life."</div>' 'sheryplants1'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I think the lighting could use some work. Everything we have is practical. Some nice ambience could lend the place some warmth."</div>' 'sherylighting1'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Maybe we could have more games on hand in the communal spaces. There could even be a kind of lending library where people could 'rent' card games or board games."</div>' 'sherygames1'>><<setintelligence +2>><<setcharisma +1>><<setshery +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I think we need more artwork and murals on the walls. Something to look at can take one's mind off of things."</div>' 'sheryart1'>><<setintelligence +2>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"What about aromatics? More incense, oils, or scented candles could liven up certain spaces if done right."</div>' 'sherysmells1'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You could supply each officer with creature comforts. Bulk orders of slippers, extra blankets, or even individual tea kettles for the hearths in their rooms would go a long way."</div>' 'sherycomforts1'>><<setintelligence +1>><<setshery +2>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I think themed seasonal decorations could be fun. Having special decor for each holiday or changeday would bring us all cheer."</div>' 'sheryseasons1'>><<setintelligence +1>><<setshery +5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"What if you organized more community events? Like a baking competition to be held at the end of the month, or a music night or a talent show among the officers."</div>' 'sheryevents1'>><<setintelligence +1>><<setcharisma +1>><<setshery +4>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I can't really think of anything."</div>' 'sherycantthink1'>><<setshery -1>><<setintelligence -1>><<setcharisma -1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $gender is "female">> <<set $sheryromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'sherypraise1'>>

Shery's face brightens; she's clearly pleased by your praise. "Really? Thank you so much! I want to keep doing my best, but it means the world that you're liking everything so far…" <<include "sherycontinueconvo">>

Shery nods seriously, taking a pocketbook out of a fold in her skirts to scribble some notes down. "That's a good idea, and very accomplishable. I can get on that right away!" She looks up and smiles at you softly. "Thank you, <<c firstname>>." <<include "sherycontinueconvo">>

Shery nods thoughtfully. "Tallys also said as much—though I worry it will create a lot more work, since someone will have to be put in charge of watering them and repotting them and changing their soil, and so on and so forth. But I think we have a lot of recruits with green thumbs, so perhaps it's not as difficult as it seems in my head." <<include "sherycontinueconvo">>

Shery nods seriously. "I see—so something like more chandeliers and softer, more diffused light? That's a good point that I hadn't thought of." <<include "sherycontinueconvo">>

Shery's eyes positively light up, sparkling with new ideas as she exclaims, "Oh, <<c firstname>>, that's a brilliant idea! I love that… Having a shelf of common games on-hand would make it so much easier for the officers to relax and socialize with each other after a long day. Thank you so much: I'll be instituting that right away!" <<include "sherycontinueconvo">>

Shery nods thoughtfully. "That makes sense… Too much blank stone starts to become repetitive and repressive, doesn't it? I only worry that my taste in art may end up offending or annoying people more than if there was nothing there at all… But perhaps I can consult a few people, like you or Riel, before I make the purchases." <<include "sherycontinueconvo">>

Shery winces. "I could see how that would make things cozier, but I think it would be difficult with so many different people living in one place," she says apologetically. "Some people might be allergic to certain scents, or very sensitive, or someone might find the smell of sandalwood very offensive for one reason or another while another person might enjoy it. I'm afraid it would become very distracting and would have more risk than reward." Then she amends hastily, "But thank you for the suggestion! It was a very good one. Maybe I could have a supply closet of such scents in case anyone wants something for their room?" <<include "sherycontinueconvo">>

Shery's eyes brighten. "Oh, but that's so clever!" she exclaims. "I could order them in bulk, then have them on-hand for anyone who has a want for them…" She beams at you, looking like she wants to throw her arms around you. "What a marvelous idea! Thank you, <<c firstname>>!" <<include "sherycontinueconvo">>

Shery's eyes positively light up, sparkling with new ideas as she exclaims, "Oh, <<c firstname>>, I hadn't even thought of that! That's a brilliant idea… We could have blue and silver festoons for Wintersun, and hang charms for Candle Day…" She pauses sheepishly, then adds, "Of course, I'd have to be careful not to go <i>too</i> overboard—the Commander still wants to keep the place professional and… austere…" But then she grins at you again. "But I'm sure he wouldn't mind if I did something tasteful! Thank you for the idea!" <<include "sherycontinueconvo">>

Shery's eyes positively light up, sparkling with new ideas as she exclaims, "Oh, <<c firstname>>, what a brilliant idea! I hadn't even thought of that. That would be so much fun, and it would be a wonderful way of bringing everyone together… Can you imagine what it would be like if we hosted a special talent night, or had the musically-inclined among us compete for a small prize? Or a cooking competition, with the rest of the officers as the judges… What a marvelous idea!" <<include "sherycontinueconvo">>

Shery nods. "That's all right. Thank you for giving it some thought, regardless." <<include "sherycontinueconvo">>

You chat for a good deal longer, talking animatedly on all manner of things, including the places you lived and their own trivial but unique and well-loved traditions. Shery listens eagerly, clearly pleased to learn anything she can about you as well as pick up tips on what she can do to make the compound a more comforting place. After a while, though, you notice that something that the quartermaster said keeps prodding at you… "Did <i>your</i> family ever do anything like this?" you ask her. "What kinds of things did they do to make your home more comfortable?" At this, Shery pauses, but her expression is calm as she replies with a hint of ruefulness: "To be honest… our home was never a place of comfort for me, nor was it intended to be. I think I told you once that my parents were auctioneers? So our house was filled with all of the wares and crates they were intent on selling off, but were too cheap to find proper storage for. They were loud and abrupt and impatient with me, and our little house in Smoketown was always filled with teetering boxes and valuable items lying around underfoot… I was always in fear of getting toppled on, or not watching where I was going and getting yelled at for jostling something or another. My only refuge was my room, and even that began to get encroached on, as I got older. They were expecting me to go on the road and travel around with a merchant caravan, so after a while, they began storing more and more things in my space because they thought I wasn't going to need it, sooner or later." Her voice is as soft as ever, but her tone is very frank and matter-of-fact—more than you're used to, with her. <<include "sheryparentstalk2">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("sheryparentsquestion")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Do you think your parents loved you?"</div>' 'sheryparentsquestion'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("sheryrunawayquestion")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"You said that you ran away from home. Do your parents know you're still in Haven?"</div>' 'sheryrunawayquestion'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("sherystressfulenv")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"It sounds like a stressful environment to grow up in. I can see why a feeling of safety and comfort is important to you."</div>' 'sherystressfulenv'>><<setintelligence +1>><<setshery +1>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("sherytrurefuge")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Where do you think your true refuge was, then? School?"</div>' 'sherytrurefuge'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You can't think of anything else to ask.</div>' 'sheryteatime'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Shery smiles, the expression honest and free of pain. "Oh—yes, I think so. Please don't get me wrong: I wouldn't say that they were cruel to me. Not on purpose. They never beat me or starved me, or anything like that, and hardly ever punished me at all, other than shouting; but that was how they talked to everybody. It wasn't malicious. It was more that… they didn't care much to get to know me. I was… was more of a checkbox on a list than someone they wanted to sit down and talk with deeply. As long as I had clothing on my back and food on my plate, my schooling and future prospects accounted for, they considered their role in things fulfilled and didn't think much beyond that. They did their best to ensure I was taken care of; that was never in question, and to their credit, they did their duties freely and without complaint. But I'm not sure they cared much <i>about</i> me. Once they'd decided things, there wasn't much room for my input. They were very brisk parents, I think." She trails off ruefully. "If that makes any sense." <<include "sheryparentstalk2">>

Shery sighs, her expression one of mingled chagrin. "Ye-es," she says hesitantly. "A few months after I joined the Shepherds, I did work up the courage to pay them a visit at home—if only to let them know that I was alive, gainfully employed, and that they needn't worry about me anymore." "That was brave of you. What was their reaction?" She shakes her head. "It was… hard to say. I think they were furious with me—in those first few days, when they first found me gone. And disappointed. The apprenticeship they'd arranged for me was with a close business associate of theirs, and they were embarrassed by my abscondence, though the relationship was saved. And then, in the intervening months… I think they eventually got on with their lives. By the time I showed my face at their door again, their anger had cooled… but they weren't overcome with relief or gladness, either. Or if they were, they didn't show it to <i>me</i>. It was more of a cool, formal '<i>thank you for letting us know; I suppose we go our separate ways from here</i>' kind of politeness." She shrugs a little. "Still. I stop by and have dinner with them every few months—maybe three or four times a year—and we get along well enough then. It can be a bit awkward at times, but at least they're… trying." You nod slowly. "They seem like very pragmatic people." Shery smiles briefly. "Pragmatic and preoccupied," she says softly. "I suppose it doesn't matter to them much whether I'm away on an apprenticeship or here in Haven with the Shepherds. As long as I'm not dependent on them or affecting their lives, they don't seem to care much about my choices." <<include "sheryparentstalk2">>

It also, you think, makes more sense why Shery herself is so quiet and timid. It seems in a house like that, she would have had to shrink, to make her presence as small as possible; her parents' personalities were so large and loud that there wasn't any room for hers. Shery laughs. "Yes, though I suppose working for a military order that's in charge of fighting demons and dark magic doesn't make much sense in that light." <<nobr>><<if $shery > 65>> Then she smiles fondly at you. "And yet it's here that I feel the safest I've ever felt in my life." <</if>> <<if $sheryromanceflag >= 7>> Her eyes dip shyly down, and her hands fall to play with the pleats of her skirt. She adds something in a mumble that sounds like, "And that's all thanks to you…" <br><br> Then she quickly turns away and busies herself with sorting more envelopes, her face angled away from yours. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "sheryparentstalk2">>

Shery smiles and shakes her head. "I did enjoy school," she says. "The lessons, anyway. Sometimes I would even spend an afternoon at a teacher's house, doing extracurricular work, just for the pleasure of it. But…" She trails off for a moment, her expression shifting into something more pained, before she blinks and tries to visibly shake it off. "But it had its own stresses. There were bullies… girls, especially, who would harass me. I nearly stopped going to school a few times because of it." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You feel your fists clenching. "I wish I'd been there to defend you. I can't abide the thought of you being hurt and harassed."</div>' 'sherydefend1'>><<setshery +2>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setloyal +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You frown. "I can't imagine anyone who would want to bully you. They must have been exceptionally cruel."</div>' 'sherycruelbullies1'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Sympathize. "That must have been a painful experience. I'm sorry you had to go through that."</div>' 'sherysympathize1'>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setcharisma +1>><<setshery +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Roll your eyes. "All because of a few kids? You should have walloped them and sent them on their way; they would have left you alone."</div>' 'sherywallopthem1'>><<setshery -5>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setcharisma -3>><<setloyal -5>><<set $sheryromanceflag -= 4>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Have you ever thought of getting revenge? Of finding those bullies now and showing them that they never broke you?"</div>' 'sheryrevenge1'>><<setcompassionate -3>><<setloyal -3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $gender is "female">><<set $sheryromanceflag += 2>><</if>><</nobr>>Shery smiles at you. "Thank you, <<c firstname>>," she says softly. "I wish that you had been there, too… If only so we could be friends sooner. But my story was not so unusual. I know that someone like Trouble or Ayla would have stood up for themselves immediately, fought tooth and nail until they were left alone. Others, <<nobr>><<if $lavinetjoin is true>>like Lavinet or Riel,<<else>>like Riel,<</if>><</nobr>> might have charmed or maneuvered their way out of the situation with cunning and grace. Tallys or Blade probably would not have been targeted at all. But for all that, what Loretta and the others did to me wasn't much different from what was being done to lots of lonely Norm children in that neighborhood." <<include "sherychurchsafe">>

Shery smiles briefly. "Only in the way that many children can be," she acknowledges with an inclination of her head. "My story was not so unusual. I know that someone like Trouble or Ayla would have stood up for themselves immediately, fought tooth and nail until they were left alone. Others, <<nobr>><<if $lavinetjoin is true>>like Lavinet or Riel,<<else>>like Riel,<</if>><</nobr>> might have charmed or maneuvered their way out of the situation with cunning and grace. Tallys or Blade probably would not have been targeted at all. But for all that, what Loretta and the others did to me wasn't much different from what was being done to lots of lonely Norm children in that neighborhood." <<include "sherychurchsafe">>

Shery smiles at you. "Thank you," she says softly. "But my story was not so unusual. I know that someone like Trouble or Ayla would have stood up for themselves immediately, fought tooth and nail until they were left alone. Others, <<nobr>><<if $lavinetjoin is true>>like Lavinet or Riel,<<else>>like Riel,<</if>><</nobr>> might have charmed or maneuvered their way out of the situation with cunning and grace. Tallys or Blade probably would not have been targeted at all. But for all that, what Loretta and the others did to me wasn't much different from what was being done to lots of lonely Norm children in that neighborhood." <<include "sherychurchsafe">>

Shery frowns. "I-if only it were that easy," she counters softly. "I'm n-not… a confrontational person. As I'm sure you know. I was even less so as a young and friendless child." <<include "sherychurchsafe">>

Shery's face goes pale. "Oh, no," she says quickly. "I've put all that behind me. It's in the past… thankfully." <<include "sherychurchsafe">>

Then she shakes her head. "No, school was not my sanctuary, and neither was my home. It was the church where I ultimately found peace and solace. It was there that I… I felt safe. Watched over. And as if no one could hurt or frighten me." She smiles to herself, a humble expression. "The One-God was my companion and protector, when no one else could be." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Let the statement pass without comment.</div>' 'sherypasscomment'>><</link>> <<if ($faith >= 50 or $faith is "one-god")>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I know the feeling well."</div>' 'sherykindredspirits'>><<setfaith +3>><<setshery +3>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($faith < 50 and $faith is not "one-god")>><div class="inactive-item">"I know the feeling well."</div><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm glad you found a safe haven, then."</div>' 'sherysafehaven'>><<setshery +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"But now you have others watching out for you. So do you really need the One-God any longer?"</div>' 'sheryneedgod'>><<setfaith -5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"It was all in your mind, though. In that context, the One-God might as well have been an imaginary friend."</div>' 'sheryimaginary'>><<setshery -8>><<set $sheryromanceflag -= 5>><<setcompassionate -3>><<setcharisma -3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

She smiles at you and returns to her sorting without another word. <<include "sheryparentstalk2">>

Shery smiles at you, her eyes practically glowing beatifically. "I'm glad," she says softly, with utmost warmth. "I like to think we're kindred spirits, in that sense." <<include "sheryparentstalk2">>

Shery smiles at you. "I am, too," she tells you. "My faith has weathered me through many storms. I have to believe that the One-God is watching out for all of us… otherwise the fear of what may happen to you, to the others, while you're away in the field would be very… paralyzing for me." She turns away, as if abashed by the sentiment, and resumes her sorting. <<include "sheryparentstalk2">>

Shery glances at you quizzically. "I don't think it works like that," she tells you gently. "I d-don't want to be morbid, but… anything could happen to any of you at given time. If I were to rely solely on you, and something were to happen that would… remove us from each other's lives… then I would be lost and adrift. But my faith has weathered me through many storms, and will always do so." Then she breaks off with a chuckle and adds, "Besides, it wouldn't really be much of a faith if I could simply cast it off and discard it whenever I thought I didn't need it anymore, no?" <<include "sheryparentstalk2">>

Shery doesn't seem particularly angered or affronted by your words; in fact, she seems calmly unsurprised. "I don't see it that way," she answers simply. Then she turns away and resumes her sorting, her expression relaxed but her spine a little stiff. <<include "sheryparentstalk2">>

Eventually, you're able to wrap up organizing the Shepherds' dispatches and, with ink-stained hands, retire to have a tea break with Shery in one of the sunny outer courtyards, nibbling on finger sandwiches with her at a tiny folding table set there for that purpose. <<nobr>><<romancecalc>> <<if $sheryromanceflag >= 10 or $highestromance is "shery">> <<set $sherystatus to "She's really beginning to open up to you, and it's clear she admires you deeply.">> Once or twice, your hands brush together as you reach for the same sandwich, or when you hold out your cup and saucer while she pours more pink bergamot tea, her fingertips soft and rosy and as delicate as the brush of a flower petal. The first few times, Shery quickly snatches her hand back at the contact; but then there are a few times when you think that her touch hesitantly lingers, just for a moment or two, as if unable to resist… <br><br> When you glance at her face, though, you think her expression is calm and focused as she continues making light conversation, so you dismiss the inkling as probable imagination. If her fingers tremble a little as she stirs a spoon through her tea, or if she avoids your gaze just a little more than usual, it must just be because she's tired from sorting so much mail. <br><br> <<page_break "Next" "fourthitem">> <<else>> <<include "fourthitem">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<set $broochofcunning to true>> <<setcunning +5>> Later, after you part ways with the grateful quartermaster and return to your room, you're surprised to find a small envelope resting on your pillow. <br><br> Inside is a small brooch depicting a delicate, iridescent butterfly. The butterfly's wings are made of a pearlescent, near-translucent stone that shifts subtle hues in the light. Accompanying the brooch is a small note in Shery's writing that reads: <br><br> <<set $loadPassage to Story.get("sherymail4").text;>> <<letter_holder "note" $loadPassage>> <br><br> <<include "sheryover">><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><i>Dear <<c firstname>>,</i> <br><br> <i>I wanted to thank you for all of your help today. This is my latest find from the Vaults: I believe it's called 'the Brooch of the Changeling.' It's said to heighten one's sense of cunning and ability to adapt to different situations. I hope it helps you even a tenth of how much you help me.</i> <br><br> <<if $sheryromanceflag >= 10 or $highestromance is "shery">> <i>Love,</i> <br> <i>Shery</i> <<else>> <i>Your friend,</i> <br> <i>Shery</i> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<set $shery += 5>> <<set $helppotion to false, $potiontype to "", $potionsuccess to 0, $sheryupset to false, $sherycustody to false>> <<if $education is "Circle-trained">> You find Shery deep in the upper levels of the tower this time, busily working in one of the ateliers with a small group of Mages, including Neon, your Binder schoolmate from the Circle. <<else>> You find Shery deep in the upper levels of the tower this time, busily working in one of the ateliers with a small group of Mages, including Neon, Red's Binder friend from the Circle. <</if>><</nobr>> Shery looks up happily as you poke your head in through the entrance of the lab she's currently holed up in. "Oh, <<c firstname>>!" She dusts her hands on her aproned skirt and hurries forward to greet you, eyes bright with obvious pleasure at your appearance. She seems to have become more animated in general, lately, you think, more apt to express her emotions openly. A blossoming in confidence, perhaps, or a growing ease and comfort with her surroundings? She beams at you and says shyly, "I saw that you had time off today." "Yes, and I was hoping to spend some of it with you," you note, glancing around at all of the bustle surrounding you. "But I take it you're on-duty?" Shery shakes her head slowly. "Erm, technically, no, but I'm right in the middle of helping with these potions…" "I already told you, Quartermaster, if you really must go, we can handle it," a Mage named Hallana says in kind but exasperated tones. She's a middle-aged woman who worked in Haven as an apothecary for a Healer's clinic; she still wears a Healer's white robes, though they're currently quite strained from her heavy pregnancy. Shery glances guiltily back towards the table she just left. "But I'm so close to finishing this current batch…" "What's going on?" you ask, eyeing the proceedings. What you've stumbled into resembles something no less than a factory assembly line: six people stand along rows of their own worktables, busily measuring, mixing, and stirring large cauldrons of different ingredients. The air is thick and acrid with an array of strange smells: sourplume extract, ashroot powder, moon wax, saltpeter, rose oil, and cinnamon bark resin are all just some of the incongruous essences currently wafting through the air. It's a surprise anyone's able to breathe in here, despite the windows cracked wide to vent it all into the open air outside. Shery shoots you an apologetic glance. "The Order needs a ready-made supply of potions and elixirs on-hand," she explains. "That way, field officers can simply pick up what they need from the armory before their missions. As a result…" "Someone's got to stay on top of making them all," Neon puts in neutrally, his helmeted head bent as his gloved hands dart deftly between four different black cauldrons, one of them glowing an evil green. With his pale blond hair, thick spectacles, and middle height, you've heard some recruits speculate that he and Shery could be siblings, though Neon's quiet is more of a stolid, reliable focus than it is an inherent shyness. He doesn't glance up as he continues, "So every week or so, a Solar Corps team works to replenish the supply as well as refine and develop more recipes. Obviously, that means we have to work closely with the quartermaster to determine what needs to be replaced or increased, and sometimes she ends up helping us when we're short on hands…" You glance at Shery in surprise. <<nobr>> <<if $specialization is "binder" or $arcane >= 50>> "I'm assuming all of the ingredients are already magically-prepped, so it only needs a set of hands to mix them together at the right time." Potion-making is an incredibly delicate and volatile process, though you suppose basic-level elixirs would be easy enough for a layperson to assemble with very precise instructions. <br><br> Shery nods. "That's exactly right! The magic part of it's all done: I'm just here to watch my batch and add things when the color turns and so on. But I'm nearly finished with this current brew, and if I leave now, someone else will have to leave their station and risk their composition going wrong in order to watch mine!" <<else>> "A non-Mage can do that?" <br><br> Neon shrugs. "Some potions can be infused with magically-prepped ingredients, meaning you don't need a Mage for the mixing process itself: any set of hands can do that part so long as they're given the ingredients and can follow the instructions precisely. The magic's done in the preparatory stage." <br><br> Shery nods, smiling hopefully at you. "That's right. I'm just here to watch my batch and add things when the color turns and so on. But I'm nearly finished with this current brew, and if I leave now, someone else will have to leave their station and risk their composition going wrong in order to watch mine!" <</if>><</nobr>> She doesn't outright ask, but her pleading look is clear: she's asking if you're willing to wait until she's done with this before the two of you go off somewhere together. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"This sounds fun. Can I help?"</div>' 'help_with_potions'>><<setmagic +1>><<setarcane +1>><<setshery +5>><<set $helppotion to true>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Sure, I don't mind waiting."</div>' 'wait_for_shery'>><<setshery +1>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Sigh. "All right. I suppose I have no choice..."</div>' 'wait_for_shery_reluctant'>><<setshery -3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Roll your eyes. "Really, Shery? It seems every time I come around, you're trying to drag me into doing more work. At this point I'm beginning to think you're deliberately avoiding spending real time with me."</div>' 'upset_shery'>><<setshery -20>><<setred -3>><<setcompassionate -10>><<setloyal -10>><<set $sheryupset to true>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $sheryromanceflag >= 10>><<set $sheryromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</nobr>> Shery beams. "Oh, of course! That would be wonderful!" The other Mages at their workstations also nod approvingly. In short order, Shery helps you set up at one of the workstations, armed with several jars of ingredients—both mundane and magical—a steaming cauldron already filled the universal solvent of blessed water, and an earmarked book of recipes. "Any of these would be helpful," she tells you shyly, before hurrying back to her own station to check on her own cauldron. Flipping through the book—which is riddled with the marginal commentary, addenda, and revisions by several hands—you decide to make... <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">A batch of strength potions.</div>' 'start_potion_making'>><<set $potiontype to "strength">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">A batch of stamina potions.</div>' 'start_potion_making'>><<set $potiontype to "stamina">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">A batch of speed potions.</div>' 'start_potion_making'>><<set $potiontype to "speed">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">A batch of poison resistance potions.</div>' 'start_potion_making'>><<set $potiontype to "poison resistance">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">A batch of sensory enhancement potions.</div>' 'start_potion_making'>><<set $potiontype to "sensory enhancement">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">A batch of confusion potions.</div>' 'start_potion_making'>><<set $potiontype to "confusion">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">A batch of stunning potions.</div>' 'start_potion_making'>><<set $potiontype to "stunning">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">A batch of healing potions.</div>' 'start_potion_making'>><<set $potiontype to "healing">><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $potiontype is "strength">> Although it's wearing on the body, the ability to temporarily boost one's physical strength and power can save lives in the right situation. <<elseif $potiontype is "stamina">> Although it's wearing on the body, the ability to temporarily boost one's endurance, resilience, and stamina can save lives in the right situation. <<elseif $potiontype is "speed">> Although it's wearing on the body, the ability to temporarily boost one's speed, agility, and reaction time can save lives in the right situation. <<elseif $potiontype is "poison resistance">> It's a niche need, but sometimes spies and covert agents are in situations that require them to fortify themselves against poisonings in the field. <<elseif $potiontype is "sensory enhancement">> Although very expensive to make, the ability to temporarily boost one's hearing, night-vision, or sense of smell can save lives in the right situation. <<elseif $potiontype is "confusion">> Although they don't work on demons, these potions are great for crowd-control with other enemies, especially when they undergo a special process to be aerosolized into a fine vapor trapped in a breakable glass orb. <<elseif $potiontype is "stunning">> Although they don't work on demons, these potions are great for crowd-control with other enemies, especially when they undergo a special process to be aerosolized into a fine vapor trapped in a breakable glass orb. <<else>> The most standard fare for Shepherd officers, these are still more expensive to make and use than simply utilizing a Healer, but they can save lives in the right emergency. You've heard that Shery's goal is to move around resources and supplies enough to eventually be able to provide a healing potion for each Lunar Corps team deployed to the field. <</if>><</nobr>> You scan over the list of steps before you start. <<set $loadPassage to Story.get("potionrecipe").text;>> <<letter_holder "note half-width-letter-holder" $loadPassage>> Seems simple enough. You begin by... <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Grinding together the coltsfoot and goldenseal.</div>' 'potion_conversation'>><<set $potionsuccess += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Pouring the coltsfoot and goldenseal into the cauldron.</div>' 'potion_conversation'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Grinding up the copal tree resin.</div>' 'potion_conversation'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Grinding together the coltsfoot and powdered alum.</div>' 'potion_conversation'>><<set $potionsuccess -= 1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>> <i>- 5 drams of coltsfoot (blue phial)</i> <br><i>- 3 caps of goldenseal</i> <br><i>- 1 phial of copal tree resin</i> <br><i>- 1 cap of powdered alum</i> <br><br> <i>Grind together and combine the coltsfoot and goldenseal using a mortar and pestle. Pour into solvent, stirring clockwise ten times, then stirring counter-clockwise thirteen times. Wait several minutes until the solution turns pale blue, then add copal tree resin, stirring any way to dissolve lumps. When the solution begins to bubble and smell sweet, add powdered alum. Remove from heat when the mixture turns silvery blue or dark blue. DUMP IF IT TURNS GREEN.</i> <br><br> <</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $sheryromanceflag >= 10>><<set $sheryromanceflag += 1>><</if>><</nobr>> Shery beams. "Thank you so much, <<c firstname>>!" She hurries back to her station as you pull up a stool to wait. <<include "potion_conversation">>

<<if $sheryromanceflag >= 5>><<set $sheryromanceflag -= 1>><</if>> Shery manages a wan smile. "Well... thank you for understanding, <<c firstname>>," she murmurs, her voice more subdued and meek again. "I promise this won't take long at all!" She hurries back to her station as you pull up a stool to wait. <<include "potion_conversation">>

"It's not even <i>necessary</i> work for you," you gripe. "Why do you always have to prioritize it over me? It's almost like you're saying I'm less important than the drudgery and busywork that could be done by someone else." Shery's smile instantly drops, and her face goes pale and wan at your confrontational tone. You watch as she seems to shrink in on herself, her shoulders creeping up around her ears as she mumbles, suddenly subdued and diffident, "Ah... you're right, I'm so sorry... I've been terribly inconsiderate of your time..." The other occupants in the room don't say anything for the moment, but you can tell by their side glances and the heavy atmosphere in the room that they're all silently judging you for your harshness. Finally Hallana says, sounding a little defensive of Shery: "She meant no harm by it, <<c rank>>. She's a good quartermaster who stepped in to help when we saw we needed it." You shake your head. <i>You don't understand. It's always like this.</i> Last time it was sorting mail, the time before that going through supply closets, and the time before that was dealing with Vivek. Why should you have to be inconvenienced by Shery's persistent inability to say no? There's a long, awkward silence before another Mage, a skinny young man named Osleth, mutters, "Well, she's nearly done. Might as well let her stay and finish at this point." You shrug resentfully, seeing that you're clearly outnumbered. Looking like she's about to cry, Shery hurries back to her station as you fold your arms and lean against the wall. <<include "potion_conversation">>

<<nobr>><<if $helppotion is true>> As you work, <<else>> As you wait, <</if>><</nobr>> you note that the team of Mages—high-level Binders and Alchemysts, for the most part—pass the time waiting and mindlessly stirring by playing games, of a sort. They seem to regard this work as mundane drudgery, a necessary chore that could be done by rote, so they amuse themselves with little diversions and conversational icebreakers in the meantime. The game of the moment seems to be something called "Oath or Ashes." "It started because I've been tinkering around with this," Neon explains to you. He nods towards a small glass orb lying on the table near his right hand. "I'm still trying to pluck apart the wards and protections guarding this place—they're endlessly labyrinthine, of course—but what's most fascinating to me is how the Tower sorts between people who have ill intentions towards the Order and people who mean well. That must mean that the Tower can distinguish between the sincere and the deceptive, those who lie about their intentions. One thing led to another, and... I've been experimenting with a device that can detect when others are telling a lie. Theoretically, it will glow red—" "Red as an ember," Osleth interrupts: he's a boisterous, energetic young man with dark skin, tight, close-curled hair, and an overabundance of enthusiasm. "That's why we called it Oath or Ashes—" "—when someone tells a lie in its proximity. It only works half of the time, though. It's a very early prototype." "Hence why we're doing our part to test it," Osleth says cheerfully. "Here, I'll show you. Have you kissed anyone in this room before?" <<nobr>><<if $sheryromanceflag >= 10>> <br><br> At this, Shery's head jerks up from over her workstation. <</if>><</nobr>> <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Of course I haven't!"</div>' 'telling_truth_osleth'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"No, I haven't kissed anyone in this room."</div>' 'telling_truth_osleth'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"No, though not for lack of trying..."</div>' 'no_lack_of_trying'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Lie. "Yes, I've kissed someone in this room."</div>' 'lying_about_kiss'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

All eyes turn expectantly towards the device on Neon's table. The glass orb remains clear. "See?" Osleth says proudly, as if <i>he</i> were the device's inventor. "You're telling the truth, obviously!" Neon gives an embarrassed huff. "It really only works with absolutes," he tells you apologetically. "Things that are more subjective, or that you may feel more ambiguous about, like your favorite color—if you don't feel very strongly about it either way—won't work." <<include "continue_game">>

<<nobr>><<if $gender is "female" and $sheryromanceflag >= 5>> <<set $sheryromanceflag += 1>> Shery blushes hotly, though no one else seems to notice. <</if>><</nobr>> Hallana's eyebrows raise as she glances at you, obviously catching your meaning. <<include "telling_truth_osleth">>

<<nobr>><<if $sheryromanceflag >= 10>> Shery's eyes widen at that, but she bends her head hastily when you glance her way. <br><br> <</if>><</nobr>> All eyes turn expectantly towards the device on Neon's table. The glass orb fills with a dull, angry red smoke, then flares briefly with a fiery light, as if it were an iron ball plunged into a hot smelter. "See?" Osleth says proudly, as if <i>he</i> were the device's inventor. "A lie, obviously!" <<nobr>><<if $sheryromanceflag >= 10>> <br><br> Hallana snorts, glancing surreptitiously between you and Shery. "Still a risky question to ask, Osleth." <</if>><</nobr>> Neon gives an embarrassed huff. "It really only works with absolutes," he tells you apologetically. "Things that are more subjective, or that you may feel more ambiguous about, like your favorite color—if you don't feel very strongly about it either way—won't work." <<include "continue_game">>

The game thus explained, the Mages proceed with their idle chatter, occasionally chuckling over Osleth's antics, Neon's frowning focus, Hallana's motherly chiding, and the merry teasing of the other two officers in the room, a young woman with an ice-pale braid and an affable country burr named Lija and a stout, handsome, faintly-incredulous Conjurer named Foix. "So, Hallana, your husband told me he was hoping you'd be open to naming the baby after him. Would you be?" "...Of course I would." "Ah! It turned red! She's lying!" As all of this happy banter proceeds, though, you notice that Shery remains quiet, studiously checking her notes as she sprinkles powders and sniffs the contents of her cauldron as if it were a simmering stove-top stew. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Sidle over to her. "Aren't you going to play, Shery?"</div>' 'approach_shery'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Leave her to her business.</div>' 'continue_to_question'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $sheryromanceflag >= 10>><<set $sheryromanceflag += 1>><</if>> <<if $sheryupset is false>> Shery jumps at your arrival, startled, before she turns her head and gives you a sweet smile. <<if $sheryromanceflag >= 10>> Even through the astringent smells of whatever concoction she's brewing, her hair has a warm, sweet fragrance, like butterscotch with a hint of chamomile tea. <</if>> "Oh, it's nice to listen to, but I don't need to play," she demurs, speaking to you in a subtle undertone. "I'm just a passerby, after all, I wouldn't want to intrude..." <<else>> Shery jumps at your arrival, visibly startled, before her blue eyes dart towards you and then back to her work. Her voice is subdued and a bit morose as she replies, "Oh, I'm fine. I'm just a passerby, after all, I wouldn't want to intrude..." <</if>><</nobr>> <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I think they'd like it. They clearly appreciate you being here."</div>' 'encourage_shery'>><<set $sheryharden +=1>><<setshery +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Come on, give it a try. What do you have to lose?"</div>' 'encourage_shery'>><<set $sheryharden +=1>><<setshery +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You don't always have to sit out, you know. You can have fun and let loose every once in a while."</div>' 'encourage_shery'>><<set $sheryharden +=1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Sigh. "All right, suit yourself..."</div>' 'continue_to_question'>><<set $sheryharden -=1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>>Shery bites her lower lip. <<if $sheryromanceflag >= 11>> The gesture obviously draws your attention to those plump lips, the flash of pale teeth pressing delicately against pink flesh, before you manage to drag your eyes away. <</if>><</nobr>> "We-ell," she murmurs, ducking her head. "M-maybe you're right. I'll give it a try..." She gifts you a grateful smile before you step back and let her return to her work. <<include "continue_to_question">>

"Your turn, <<c rank>> <<c firstname>>," Lija says then, her voice bold and blasé. "Here's a good one for you: are you a jealous person?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Yes, I'd consider myself a jealous person in many different ways." </div>' 'ajealouspersonshery'>><</link>> <<if ($aro is false) and ($aroace is false)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"In general, no, but over the object of my affections, I could be." You don't like feeling competitive when it comes to romance.</div>' 'ajealouspersonshery2'>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($aro is false) and ($aroace is false)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm not a jealous person in romance, but I've been known to be jealous in other ways." Envying others' accomplishments, luck, or material possessions, for example.</div>' 'truth2shery'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm not a jealous person when it comes to people's possessions or successes, but I don't like when they come between me and my inner circle." You like being the center of attention and feel jealous when others steal the spotlight from you.</div>' 'truth2shery'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm not a jealous person at all." Whether out of a laidback indifference or a generosity of spirit, you never feel jealous towards others.</div>' 'truth2shery'>><<setshery +2>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Yes, I'm extremely jealous." <b>[LIE]</b></div>' 'lie2shery'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"No, I'm not jealous at all." <b>[LIE]</b></div>' 'lie2shery'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Whether it had to do with relationships, academia, professional success, or material wealth, you've often found yourself feeling jealous of others. Their belongings, achievements, or relationships can sometimes inspire envy in you. <<nobr>><<if $traumatized gte 1>> You even remember being a young adolescent, looking at the happiness of other families, and thinking, <i>Why can't I have what they have?</i> <br><br> <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "truth2shery">>

<<nobr>><<if ($sheryromanceflag >= 10) and ($highestromance is "shery")>> <<set $sheryromanceflag += 1>> You see Shery look up at you again, the expression on her face unreadable, but she blushes at your glance and quickly turns away. <br><br> <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "truth2shery">>

Neon's orb remains crystal clear, and the group makes noises of interest and general approval or speculation over your response. <<include "sheryspeak">>

After a moment, Neon's orb clouds red. Osleth gives a loud hoot of derision. "Ashes! That's a patent lie!" <<include "sheryspeak">>

After a few moments of excited chatter, Shery suddenly says spontaneously, "Deep down, I think I'm a jealous person. At least a bit, anyway. Um…" She colors as all eyes turn to her, intrigued, but she forges on. "I don't <i>want</i> to be. But I often find myself thinking, 'If only I was as pretty as so-and-so,' or 'If only I had so-and-so's confidence…' And sometimes I even feel jealous when others spend time together. Either because I'd like to be included, or… because I want to be the only person—the <i>most special</i> person—that someone is looking at. I suppose that's a form of jealousy, isn't it?" <<nobr>><<if ($sheryromanceflag >= 10) and ($highestromance is "shery")>> Covertly, her pale-lashed eyes dart towards you again, then quickly away. <br><br> <</if>><</nobr>> There's a ringing silence at this surprising, bold declaration before Lija says with a laugh, "I completely understand what you mean, Quartermaster!" Then her look turns sly. "Does this mean you want to play, then?" Shery smiles timidly. "Y-yes, I suppose so..." The game proceeds, now incorporating you <<nobr>><<if $helppotion is true>> both, though you're momentarily distracted when Osleth nips over and asks to borrow the book you're currently working out of. It happens too quickly and casually for you to say no, and now you're left staring at your cauldron, trying to remember what the next step is... <<include "potionschoice">> <<else>> both. <<include "neonfear">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Stir the mixture clockwise thirteen times, then counter-clockwise ten times.</div>' 'neonfear'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Stir the mixture clockwise twenty-three times.</div>' 'neonfear'>><<set $potionsuccess -= 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Stir the mixture clockwise three times, then counter-clockwise five times.</div>' 'neonfear'>><<set $potionsuccess -= 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Stir the mixture clockwise ten times, then counter-clockwise thirteen times.</div>' 'neonfear'>><<set $potionsuccess += 1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"What's your biggest fear?" you ask Neon. He pulls a discontented face. <<nobr>><<if ($education is "Circle-trained") and ($redrelationship is "friend")>> "Don't you remember? It's being cursed." <<else>> "Being cursed." <</if>><</nobr>> To the rest of the room he explains, "I had an uncle who was hunting for artifacts and was cursed by a sorcerous bridle when I was young. The spirit of a rabid wolf seized him, and he was left witless for the rest of his life. Something similar happened to a professor at the Circle, too. Struck with a terrible wasting disease, and no one could figure out how to lift it before she died." He taps the side of his hard, lumpen helmet. "That's why I always wear this." The helmet is bound up with warding properties, you deduce. "Wouldn't it be more convenient to wear an amulet or a ring or some kind?" <<nobr>><<if $specialization is "binder">> "The ambient field is larger with the helmet," Neon explains. He then launches into a detailed explanation full of technical details that only you and Foix seem to understand. <<else>> Neon sighs, clearly wearied by the frequent question. "The ambient field is larger—" Then he sighs and shakes his head. "Never mind. For technical purposes, the helmet is better." <</if>><</nobr>> "What about you, Shery?" Lija asks her. "Oh, I'm scared of many things," Shery answers forthrightly. "Insects and arachnids, the darkness, horses, loud dogs..." She trails off thoughtfully. "Chief among my fears, I suppose, would be having to watch while everyone around me is killed on the battlefield. I'm deathly afraid of others' death, and grief. Perhaps I would be all right if <i>I</i> died. But I feel very sick at the idea of someone else dying while I can do nothing about it... The thought regularly unsteadies me." There's a slight pause as everyone takes in this very honest—and intense—answer. You watch Shery out of the corner of your eye, curious at her sudden change in demeanor. Where is all of this transparency suddenly coming from? If anyone else notices her unusual verboseness, however, no one says so. To Shery you say: <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I suspected you felt that way. You told me once that you avoid spending too much time with Shepherd officers outside of work."</div>' 'autogenerated_68934'>><<setshery +2>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I never knew your fear was so intense. I'm sorry if you suffer when we're away from base."</div>' 'autogenerated_68935'>><<setshery +1>><</link>> <<if ($sheryromanceflag >= 5) or ($shery >= 75)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"You have nothing to worry about, Shery. I promise I'll always come back home. No matter what."</div>' 'autogenerated_68936'>><<setshery +1>><<set $sheryharden -= 1>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You're not alone in that fear. Death and losing our loved ones is something we're all afraid of, I think."</div>' 'autogenerated_68937'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Nothing. You let her statement hang in the air without comment.</div>' 'sheryresponseend'>><<setshery -5>><<setloyal -3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Shery pulls a quick, rueful smile. "Well, that was a bit silly of me," she admits. "After all, look at where we're at now! I would have denied myself your friendship out of fear." Then she sobers. "But yes, that was my reasoning behind it, initially. I didn't want to get too attached to anybody, for fear of getting hurt. Many of my reasons are fear-based, I'm afraid." <<include 'sheryresponseend'>>

Shery pulls a quick, rueful smile. "Oh, <<c firstname>>, I never wanted to make it about myself! You're the ones who are out there, risking your lives. The last thing I want is for you to worry about <i>me</i>. The least I can do is to manage my fears at home while you're doing your vital work." <<include 'sheryresponseend'>>

<<nobr>><<if $sheryromanceflag >= 10>> <<set $sheryromanceflag += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> Shery's lips part slightly, and she takes in a soft, slight breath. Then she pulls a quick, rueful smile, dropping her eyes back to where she's grinding something into some sort of gray paste. "Oh, <<c firstname>>," she sighs. "I wish that were a promise I knew you could keep." <<include 'sheryresponseend'>>

Everyone else choruses assent at that, eager to let Shery know she isn't alone. The quartermaster nods slowly, her eyes dropping back to where she's grinding something into some sort of gray paste. "I suppose that's true," she murmurs. <<include 'sheryresponseend'>>

Osleth changes the subject then by asking, as a general question to the group: <<nobr>><<if ($aroace is false) and ($aro is false) and ($ace is false)>> "All right, here's another question for you: who do you think is the most attractive person in the Order?" <br><br> Neon pretends not to hear the question, while Hallana snorts derisively. Lija, on the other hand, cries, "Oh, my answer is easy! Commander Blade Bronwyn... ah, when those dark eyes look right at you, it's just..." She shivers pleasantly. <br><br> "<i>I</i> think it's Lady Tallys," Osleth says proudly, clearly having asked the question so he could put forth his own answer. "And that's got to be objective fact, you know, being that she is an Elf, after all..." <br><br> "You call her <i>Lady</i> Tallys?" Foix asks, amused. "That's hopeless. Meanwhile, I think that tall Archmage, Captain Antiqua..." <br><br> Neon immediately goes to plug his ears. "I'm not hearing this." <br><br> "Fine, then, Neon, what's <i>your</i> answer...?" <br><br> <<if ($sheryromanceflag >= 12) and ($highestromance is "shery") and ($sheryupset is false)>> "The answer has to be <<c firstname>>, of course," Shery bursts out abruptly. "Anyone with eyes should be able to see that!" <br><br> <<include "probeshery">> <<else>> "I don't notice things like that." <br><br> After a few more moments of talking, Osleth suddenly says, "But wait, <<c rank>> <<c firstname>> hasn't answered!" Once again, all eyes turn expectantly to you. <br><br> <<include "whoareyouattractedto">> <</if>> <<else>> <<include "admirechoices5">> <</if>><</nobr>>

It's as if someone were writing something on a chalkboard, only for the chalk to screech to a sudden halt and leap out of their hand mid-sentence. Everyone's heads whip around to stare incredulously at Shery, who takes a step back with a sheepish smile on her face. "<i>What</i>?!" Lija shrieks, her eyes flying back and forth between you and Shery. "What are you—do you really mean that, Shery?" "It seems she does," Foix comments, nodding at Neon's truth-telling orb, which lies as clear as a summer sky. "It's a prototype," Neon mutters under his breath. "Not fool-proof..." "Hush, Neon," Foix tells him. Xe acquires a distinctly sly look as xe adds, "Shery, elaborate. What <i>exactly</i> do you find so attractive about <<c rank>> <<c firstname>>?" "Well, I hardly need to elaborate," Shery answers stoutly. "I should think it's all obvious. <<c her>> heart is $her best feature, of course; $her strength and resilience, courage and kindness, wisdom and patience are all—all lovely. But of course $she<<nobr>><<if $plural is true>>'re<<else>>'s<</if>><</nobr>> <i>beautiful</i>, too, in every way, from $her wonderful eyes to those eyelashes to $her—" "All right," Hallana puts in hastily, looking embarrassed to be hearing all of this. "I think we understand the picture..." Shery, only a little pink, shoots a look at you before looking away. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Thank you, Shery. I'm flattered."</div>' 'autogenerated_68938'>><<setshery +3>><</link>> <<if ($sheryromanceflag >= 12)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I feel the same way about you, Shery. You're absolutely the most attractive person in the Order to me as well."</div>' 'autogenerated_68939'>><<set $sheryromanceflag += 10>><<setshery +10>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Um, I'm not quite sure what to say..."</div>' 'autogenerated_68940'>><<set $sheryromanceflag -= 5>><<setshery -5>><<setcharisma -1>><<setcourage -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Thank you, Shery, but I hope you know I don't feel the same way about you."</div>' 'autogenerated_68941'>><<set $sheryromanceflag -= 20>><<setshery -20>><<setcharisma -5>><<setcourage +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Remain silent.</div>' 'autogenerated_68942'>><<set $sheryromanceflag -= 10>><<setshery -10>><<setcharisma -5>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Shery flushes with pleasure and murmurs something inaudible, something like, "I'm just telling the truth." Pleased, you turn back to your work as the conversation moves on in jerky, erstwhile fits and starts, the others clearly fumbling to act normal about this sudden revelation. <<include 'potioncheck'>>

There's a brief pause before the room erupts into a series of shrieks again. "What is going on?" Lija screams, grabbing Foix's shoulders and bouncing up and down as if she can't contain her excitement. "What is going on?!" Osleth looks stunned by this apparent turn of events. Shery is grinning and flushed, though her eyes are demurely lowered and her skin as she murmurs, "Ah... I—I didn't know..." But she looks enormously pleased. Neon's truth-telling orb sits as clear as crystal, and for a moment the unspoken meaning of that lies between the two of you, as delicate and glittering as gossamer. The spell is broken by Hallana saying tartly, "Should we clear the room for the two of you?" Shery hastily turns back to her work, but you're both smiling as the conversation moves on in jerky, erstwhile fits and starts, the others clearly fumbling to act normal about this sudden exchange. <<include 'potioncheck'>>

No one says anything for a moment, before Osleth—at Hallana's pointed glare—stammers a clumsy change in subject, barreling forward as if the exchange hadn't just happened. Shery doesn't object, but she also doesn't raise her eyes to you again, looking pensive. <<include 'potioncheck'>>

<<nobr>><<if $helppotion is true>> You glance down at your cauldron as the others talk. <<if $potionsuccess >= 2>> Your potion has turned pale blue. <<elseif $potionsuccess is 1>> Your potion has turned a deep blue. <<else>> Your potion has turned a deep magenta. <</if>> <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Add copal tree resin.</div>' 'whatfeatureaboutyourselfwouldyouchange'>><<set $potionsuccess += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Add powdered alum</div>' 'whatfeatureaboutyourselfwouldyouchange'>><<set $potionsuccess -= 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Add goldenseal.</div>' 'whatfeatureaboutyourselfwouldyouchange'>><<set $potionsuccess -= 2>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Add ground king's leaf.</div>' 'whatfeatureaboutyourselfwouldyouchange'>><<set $potionsuccess -= 3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <<else>> <<include "whatfeatureaboutyourselfwouldyouchange">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $helppotion is true>> You glance down at your cauldron rather than answering immediately. <<if $potionsuccess >= 2>> Your potion has turned pale blue. <<elseif $potionsuccess is 1>> Your potion has turned a deep blue. <<else>> Your potion has turned a deep magenta. <</if>> <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Add copal tree resin as you think.</div>' 'attractivechoices'>><<set $potionsuccess += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Add powdered alum as you think.</div>' 'attractivechoices'>><<set $potionsuccess -= 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Add goldenseal as you think.</div>' 'attractivechoices'>><<set $potionsuccess -= 2>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Add ground king's leaf as you think.</div>' 'attractivechoices'>><<set $potionsuccess -= 3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <<else>> <<include "attractivechoices">> <</if>><</nobr>>

"The most attractive person in the Order? Why, it's..." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Me, of course!"</div>' 'autogenerated_68943'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I decline to answer at this moment in time."</div>' 'autogenerated_68944'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"No one. I don't think anyone in the Order is particularly attractive."</div>' 'autogenerated_68945'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"None of your business. And in fact, I disapprove of this kind of talk in the workplace!"</div>' 'autogenerated_68946'>><<setloyal +5>><<setshery -3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Blade, of course."</div>' 'autogenerated_68947'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Trouble, of course."</div>' 'autogenerated_68948'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Tallys, of course."</div>' 'autogenerated_68949'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Shery, of course."</div>' 'autogenerated_68950'>><<setshery +10>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Riel, of course."</div>' 'autogenerated_68951'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Chase, of course."</div>' 'autogenerated_68952'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Red, of course."</div>' 'autogenerated_68953'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Ayla, of course."</div>' 'autogenerated_68954'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Halek, of course."</div>' 'autogenerated_68955'>><</link>> <<if $brionyjoin is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Briony, of course."</div>' 'autogenerated_68956'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $lavinetjoin is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Lavinet, of course."</div>' 'autogenerated_68957'>><</link>><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $sheryromanceflag >= 10>> <<set $sheryromanceflag -= 3>> <<set $shery -= 5>> <</if>><</nobr>> Everyone else in the room bursts out laughing at that. "Well, not sure we can argue with that, given the amount of love letters you get," Lija says humorously. The conversation rambles on from there. <<include 'whatfeatureaboutyourselfwouldyouchange'>>

<<nobr>><<if $sheryromanceflag >= 10>> <<set $sheryromanceflag += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> Osleth gives a half-derisive, half-disappointed hoot. "The diplomatic answer! The real truth must be juicy indeed." Given your reticence, though, the conversation soon rambles on in other directions. <<include 'whatfeatureaboutyourselfwouldyouchange'>>

<<nobr>><<if $sheryromanceflag >= 10>> <<set $sheryromanceflag -= 5>> <</if>><</nobr>> This is met with a chorus of jeers and boos. "Patently untrue," Foix mutters, looking personally offended. Given your reticence, though, the conversation soon rambles on in other directions. <<include 'whatfeatureaboutyourselfwouldyouchange'>>

There's a brief pause at that as everyone gives you a circumspect look, as if gauging to see whether you're actually serious or not. <<nobr>><<if $rank is "Officer">> Finally Osleth rolls his eyes and says, "Next question then, I suppose." <<else>> Finally, as if to play on the safe side, Osleth mutters, "Sorry, <<if $she is "she">> ma'am." <<elseif $she is "he">> sir." <<else>> sirrah." <</if>> The conversation rolls on briskly from there. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'whatfeatureaboutyourselfwouldyouchange'>>

<<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag >= 12>> <<set $bladeromanceflag += 1>> <</if>> <<if $sheryromanceflag >= 10>> <<set $sheryromanceflag -= 10>> <</if>> <<if $sheryromanceflag >= 5>> <<set $sheryromanceflag -= 5>> <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'scandalofthehighestorder'>>

<<nobr>><<if $troubleromanceflag >= 12>> <<set $troubleromanceflag += 1>> <</if>> <<if $sheryromanceflag >= 10>> <<set $sheryromanceflag -= 10>> <</if>> <<if $sheryromanceflag >= 5>> <<set $sheryromanceflag -= 5>> <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'scandalofthehighestorder'>>

<<nobr>><<if ($tallysromanceflag >= 10) or ($tallyssex is true)>> <<set $tallysromanceflag += 2>> <</if>> <<if $sheryromanceflag >= 10>> <<set $sheryromanceflag -= 10>> <</if>> <<if $sheryromanceflag >= 5>> <<set $sheryromanceflag -= 5>> <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'scandalofthehighestorder'>>

<<nobr>><<if $sheryromanceflag >= 10>> <<set $sheryromanceflag += 10>> <</if>> <</nobr>> Everyone's heads snap around to stare at you, even Neon's, as if to gauge the seriousness of your statement. <<nobr>><<if $helppotion is true>> You continue working calmly, while Shery's jaw outright falls open. <<else>> You stare back calmly, while Shery's jaw outright falls open. <</if>><</nobr>> Lija gives a muffled little shriek, and she and Foix throw each other delighted glances, as if you've just made their entire year. "Gods above! What is going <i>on</i>?" Shery stammers out in a choked voice, "<<c firstname>> is just teasing me—" <<nobr>><<if $sheryromanceflag >= 10>> <br><br> "I don't think $she<<nobr>><<if $plural is true>>'re<<else>>'s<</if>><</nobr>> teasing," Neon says quietly, glancing at your face. <</if>><</nobr>> "No, but look at the orb!" Osleth cries. "It didn't flare!" It's true: the surface of Neon's device remains clear and placid, though Neon murmurs a very technical objection on the basis of it being a prototype. Shery looks as if she's about to faint. The others pry and probe you for more information, but Hallana briskly keeps the conversation moving along after that, perhaps sensing that the topic needs to be pulled back into seemlier waters. Reluctantly, the others allow the discussion to continue forward, though Lija and Osleth keep shooting you avid, intrigued looks all the while. Shery lifts her eyes to give you a bold glance, her cheeks pink but her lips definitely quirked in a wondering smile. <<include 'whatfeatureaboutyourselfwouldyouchange'>>

<<nobr>><<if $rielromanceflag >= 12>> <<set $rielromanceflag += 1>> <</if>> <<if $sheryromanceflag >= 10>> <<set $sheryromanceflag -= 10>> <</if>> <<if $sheryromanceflag >= 5>> <<set $sheryromanceflag -= 5>> <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'scandalofthehighestorder'>>

<<nobr>><<if ($chaseromanceflag >= 10) or ($chasesex is true)>> <<set $chaseromanceflag += 2>> <</if>> <<if $sheryromanceflag >= 10>> <<set $sheryromanceflag -= 10>> <</if>> <<if $sheryromanceflag >= 5>> <<set $sheryromanceflag -= 5>> <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'scandalofthehighestorder'>>

<<nobr>><<if $redromanceflag >= 10>> <<set $redromanceflag += 3>> <</if>> <<if $sheryromanceflag >= 10>> <<set $sheryromanceflag -= 10>> <</if>> <<if $sheryromanceflag >= 5>> <<set $sheryromanceflag -= 5>> <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'scandalofthehighestorder'>>

<<nobr>><<if $aylaromanceflag >= 10>> <<set $aylaromanceflag += 1>> <</if>> <<if $sheryromanceflag >= 10>> <<set $sheryromanceflag -= 10>> <</if>> <<if $sheryromanceflag >= 5>> <<set $sheryromanceflag -= 5>> <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'scandalofthehighestorder'>>

<<nobr>><<if $sheryromanceflag >= 10>> <<set $sheryromanceflag -= 10>> <</if>> <<if $sheryromanceflag >= 5>> <<set $sheryromanceflag -= 5>> <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'scandalofthehighestorder'>>

<<nobr>><<if $brionyromanceflag >= 10>> <<set $brionyromanceflag += 2>> <</if>> <<if $sheryromanceflag >= 10>> <<set $sheryromanceflag -= 10>> <</if>> <<if $sheryromanceflag >= 5>> <<set $sheryromanceflag -= 5>> <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'scandalofthehighestorder'>>

<<nobr>><<if $lavinetromanceflag >= 10>> <<set $lavinetromanceflag += 2>> <</if>> <<if $sheryromanceflag >= 10>> <<set $sheryromanceflag -= 10>> <</if>> <<if $sheryromanceflag >= 5>> <<set $sheryromanceflag -= 5>> <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'scandalofthehighestorder'>>

A series of gasps goes up at that. Lija and Foix give each other delighted looks as if their entire year has been made. "Scandalous!" the ivory-haired Mage cries. "Scandal of the highest order!" <<nobr>><<if $sheryromanceflag >= 8>> Shery turns away, looking a little nauseous. Perhaps the fumes in the room are getting to her... <<else>> They pry and probe you for more information, but Hallana briskly keeps the conversation moving along after that, perhaps sensing that the topic needs to be pulled back into seemlier waters. Reluctantly, the others allow the discussion to continue forward, though Lija and Osleth keep shooting you avid, intrigued looks all the while. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "whatfeatureaboutyourselfwouldyouchange">>

"Who do you admire most in the Order?" Neon pretends not to hear the question, while Hallana says thoughtfully, "I suppose Elemnestra, the Head Healer. There's a woman who knows how to make even the <<nobr>><<if $part >= 8>> commanders listen to her, and she runs the infirmary as tight as a ship." <<else>> commander listen to her, and she runs the infirmary as tight as a ship." <</if>><</nobr>> "It's got to be Vice-Commander Trouble for me," Foix says. "A Norm rising to that level of command, even in an order of Diminished super-soldiers? Who wouldn't be impressed by that?" "If that's part of your criteria, wouldn't Master Syndran seem even more impressive?" Lija asks. "He doesn't even have combat skills, but <i>everyone</i> listens to him..." <<nobr>><<if (($sheryromanceflag >= 12) and ($highestromance is "shery")) or ($shery >= 80)>> <<if $sheryupset is false>> "The answer has to be <<c firstname>>, of course," Shery bursts out abruptly. "Anyone with eyes should be able to see that $she<<nobr>><<if $plural is true>>'re<<else>>'s<</if>><</nobr>> the most admirable person in the entire Order!" <br><br> <<include "probeshery2">> <<else>> "What's your answer, <<c firstname>>?" Osleth asks you then. <br><br> <<include "whodoyouadmire">> <</if>> <<else>> "What's your answer, <<c firstname>>?" Osleth asks you then. <br><br> <<include "whodoyouadmire">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $helppotion is true>> <<if $potionsuccess >= 2>> Your potion has turned pale blue. <<elseif $potionsuccess is 1>> Your potion has turned a deep blue. <<else>> Your potion has turned a deep magenta. <</if>> <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Add copal tree resin as you think.</div>' 'admirechoices'>><<set $potionsuccess += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Add powdered alum as you think.</div>' 'admirechoices'>><<set $potionsuccess -= 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Add goldenseal as you think.</div>' 'admirechoices'>><<set $potionsuccess -= 2>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Add ground king's leaf as you think.</div>' 'admirechoices'>><<set $potionsuccess -= 3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <<else>> <<include "admirechoices">> <</if>><</nobr>>

"Who do I admire most in the Order? Why, it's..." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Me, of course!"</div>' 'autogenerated_68958'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I decline to answer at this moment in time."</div>' 'autogenerated_68959'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"No one. I don't think anyone in the Order is particularly admirable."</div>' 'autogenerated_68960'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Blade, of course."</div>' 'autogenerated_68961'>><<setblade +2>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Trouble, of course."</div>' 'autogenerated_68962'>><<settrouble +2>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Tallys, of course."</div>' 'autogenerated_68963'>><<settallys +2>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Shery, of course."</div>' 'autogenerated_68964'>><<setshery +10>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Riel, of course."</div>' 'autogenerated_68965'>><<setriel +2>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Chase, of course."</div>' 'autogenerated_68966'>><<setchase +2>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Red, of course."</div>' 'autogenerated_68967'>><<setred +2>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Ayla, of course."</div>' 'autogenerated_68968'>><<setayla +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Halek, of course."</div>' 'autogenerated_68969'>><<sethalek +2>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Briony, of course."</div>' 'autogenerated_68970'>><<setbriony +2>><</link>> <<if ($lavinetjoin is true)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Lavinet, of course."</div>' 'autogenerated_68971'>><<setlavinet +2>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($mimirjoin is true)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Mimir, of course."</div>' 'autogenerated_68972'>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($cainejoin is true)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Caine, of course."</div>' 'autogenerated_68973'>><</link>><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $sheryromanceflag >= 10>> <<set $sheryromanceflag -= 3>> <<set $shery -= 5>> <<else>> <<set $shery -= 5>> <</if>> <<set $loyal -= 5>><</nobr>> Everyone else in the room bursts out laughing at that. "Well, not sure we can argue with that, given the fact that you <i>are</i> the Hero of Haven," Lija says humorously. The conversation rambles on from there. <<include 'whatfeatureaboutyourselfwouldyouchange'>>

Osleth gives a half-derisive, half-disappointed hoot. "What! But it's such a harmless question!" Given your reticence, though, the conversation soon rambles on in other directions. <<include 'whatfeatureaboutyourselfwouldyouchange'>>

<<nobr>><<if $sheryromanceflag >= 10>> <<set $sheryromanceflag -= 10>> <<else>> <<set $shery -= 5>> <</if>> <<set $loyal -= 8>><</nobr>> This is met with a chorus of jeers and boos. "Patently untrue," Foix mutters, looking downright shocked by the idea. Given your reticence, though, the conversation soon rambles on in other directions. <<include 'whatfeatureaboutyourselfwouldyouchange'>>

<<nobr>><<if $sheryromanceflag >= 5>> <<set $sheryromanceflag -= 3>> <</if>><</nobr>> A series of approving murmurs goes up at that. "That makes sense," Lija says sagely. "I don't think anyone can argue with that…" <<nobr>><<if ($sheryromanceflag >= 8)>> Shery turns away with a little grimace. Perhaps the fumes in the room are getting to her… <br><br> The conversation rambles on from there. <<else>> The conversation rambles on from there. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'whatfeatureaboutyourselfwouldyouchange'>>

<<nobr>><<if $sheryromanceflag >= 10>> <<set $sheryromanceflag += 5>> <</if>> <</nobr>> Everyone's heads snap around to stare at you, even Neon's, as if to gauge the seriousness of your statement. <<nobr>><<if $helppotion is true>> You continue working calmly, while Shery's jaw outright falls open. <<else>> You stare back calmly, while Shery's jaw outright falls open. <</if>><</nobr>> "But that's so sweet!" Lija exclaims delightedly, holding a hand to her cheek. "The two of you have such a mutual regard for each other!" Shery is smiling and flushed, though her eyes are demurely lowered as she murmurs, "<<c firstname>> is teasing me, that's all." "I don't think $she<<nobr>><<if $plural is true>>'re'<<else>>'s<</if>><</nobr>> teasing," Neon says quietly, glancing at your face. "No, and look at the orb!" Osleth cries. "It didn't flare!" It's true: the surface of Neon's device remains clear and placid, though Neon murmurs a very technical objection on the basis of it being a prototype. Still, Shery beams so sunnily at that that her smile threatens to brighten the entire room. "What do you admire the most about her?" Osleth asks you then, sounding intrigued. <<include 'sherysadmirablequalities'>>

<<nobr>><<if $sheryromanceflag >= 10>> <<set $sheryromanceflag -= 10>> <</if>> <<if $sheryromanceflag >= 5>> <<set $sheryromanceflag -= 5>> <</if>><</nobr>> A series of approving murmurs goes up at that. "That makes sense," Lija says sagely. "I don't think anyone can argue with that…" <<nobr>><<if ($sheryromanceflag >= 8)>> Shery turns away with a little grimace. Perhaps the fumes in the room are getting to her… <br><br> The conversation rambles on from there. <<else>> The conversation rambles on from there. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'whatfeatureaboutyourselfwouldyouchange'>>

<<nobr>><<if $sheryromanceflag >= 5>> <<set $sheryromanceflag -= 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> Osleth turns to give you a strange look. "The Seer who sleeps outside? Truly?" You nod seriously. "To overcome everything she has in her life is admirable." Lija and Foix look mystified by this, though Hallana nods approvingly. Neon looks thoughtful. The conversation rambles on from there. <<include 'whatfeatureaboutyourselfwouldyouchange'>>

Osleth turns to give you a strange look. "The little boy? The apprentice?" You nod seriously. "We should all strive to be more like him." Lija and Foix look mystified by this, though Hallana nods approvingly. Neon looks thoughtful, and Shery smiles slightly. The conversation rambles on from there. <<include 'whatfeatureaboutyourselfwouldyouchange'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Her spirit."</div>' 'sherycomplimentresponse'>><<set $sheryharden += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Her heart."</div>' 'sherycomplimentresponse'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Her kindness."</div>' 'sherycomplimentresponse'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Her intelligence."</div>' 'sherycomplimentresponse'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Her courage."</div>' 'sherycomplimentresponse'>><<set $sheryharden += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Her resilience."</div>' 'sherycomplimentresponse'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Her determination."</div>' 'sherycomplimentresponse'>><<set $sheryharden += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Her sweetness."</div>' 'sherycomplimentresponse'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Her sincerity."</div>' 'sherycomplimentresponse'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Her efficiency."</div>' 'sherycomplimentresponse'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Her perceptiveness."</div>' 'sherycomplimentresponse'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Her compassion."</div>' 'sherycomplimentresponse'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Her capacity to forgive."</div>' 'sherycomplimentresponse'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Her caring for others."</div>' 'sherycomplimentresponse'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Her excellence at her job."</div>' 'sherycomplimentresponse'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Her ability to multi-task."</div>' 'sherycomplimentresponse'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

A chorus of sickly "Aww"s fills the room at that. The others prod and prompt you to say more on the subject, but Hallana briskly keeps the conversation moving along after that, perhaps sensing that the topic needs to be pulled back into safer waters, if only because Shery is looking as red as a tomato. Reluctantly, the others allow the discussion to continue forward, though Lija and Osleth keep shooting you avid, intrigued looks all the while. They also, you think, appraise their quartermaster with a newfound respect following the revelation of your opinion. Shery continues to look enormously pleased as she turns back to her work, and you're both smiling as the conversation moves on in jerky, erstwhile fits and starts. <<include "whatfeatureaboutyourselfwouldyouchange">>

It's as if someone were writing something on a chalkboard, only for the chalk to screech to a sudden halt and leap out of their hand mid-sentence. Everyone's heads whip around to stare incredulously at Shery, who takes a step back with a sheepish smile on her face. "<i>What</i>?!" Lija shrieks, her eyes flying back and forth between you and Shery. "Well, of course <<c rank>> <<c firstname>> is admirable, $she<<nobr>><<if $plural is true>>'re<<else>>'s<</if>><</nobr>> the Hero of Haven, after all—but what do you really mean by that, Shery?" "Well, I hardly need to elaborate," Shery answers stoutly. "I should think it's all obvious. Look at $her heart, $her strength and resilience, courage and kindness, wisdom and patience. All—all lovely—a person would have to be <i>blind</i> not to admire $them deeply—" "All right," Hallana puts in hastily, looking embarrassed to be hearing all of this. "I think we understand the picture..." Shery, only a little pink, shoots a look at you before looking away. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Thank you, Shery. I'm flattered."</div>' 'autogenerated_68974'>><<setshery +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I feel the same way about you, Shery. Out of everyone in the Order, I admire you the most."</div>' 'autogenerated_68975'>><<setshery +10>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Um, I'm not quite sure what to say..."</div>' 'autogenerated_68976'>><<set $sheryromanceflag -= 5>><<setshery -5>><<setcharisma -1>><<setcourage -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Thank you, Shery, but I hope you know I don't feel the same way about you."</div>' 'autogenerated_68977'>><<set $sheryromanceflag -= 20>><<setshery -20>><<setcharisma -5>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setcourage +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Remain silent.</div>' 'autogenerated_68978'>><<set $sheryromanceflag -= 10>><<setshery -10>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Shery flushes with pleasure and murmurs something inaudible, something like, "I'm just telling the truth." Pleased, you turn back to your work as the conversation moves on, your insides fizzing at the sincerity of Shery's statement and the warmth of her clear regard. <<include 'potioncheck'>>

<<nobr>><<if $sheryromanceflag >= 10>> <<set $sheryromanceflag += 5>> <</if>> <</nobr>> There's a brief pause before the room erupts into a chorus of sickly "Aww"s. "But that's so sweet!" Lija exclaims delightedly, holding a hand to her cheek. "The two of you have such a mutual regard for each other!" Shery is smiling and flushed, though her eyes are demurely lowered as she murmurs, "<<c firstname>> is teasing me, that's all." "I don't think $she<<nobr>><<if $plural is true>>'re<<else>>'s<</if>><</nobr>> teasing," Neon says quietly, glancing at your face. "No, and look at the orb!" Osleth cries. "It didn't flare!" It's true: the surface of Neon's device remains clear and placid, though Neon murmurs a very technical objection on the basis of it being a prototype. Still, Shery beams so sunnily at that that her smile threatens to brighten the entire room. The others prod and prompt the two of you to say more on the subject, but Hallana briskly keeps the conversation moving along after that, perhaps sensing that the topic needs to be pulled back into safer waters, if only to give the two of you privacy. Reluctantly, the others allow the discussion to continue forward, though Lija and Osleth keep shooting you avid, intrigued looks all the while. They also, you think, appraise their quartermaster with a newfound respect following the revelation of your opinion. Shery continues to look enormously pleased as she turns back to her work, and you're both smiling as the conversation moves on in jerky, erstwhile fits and starts. <<include 'potioncheck'>>

"If you could change any one thing about yourself, what would you change?" Foix asks after a little while. You open your mouth to answer, but before you get the chance, Shery bursts out with her own response again. "Oh, change nothing!" she cries in an impassioned voice. "<<c firstname>> is perfect, absolutely perfect. My heart would break if $she changed anything about <<print $them>>self!" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Stare at her. "Are you all right, Shery? You're acting strange..."</div>' 'autogenerated_68979'>><<setshery +3>><<setintelligence +1>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Preen in the face of her praise. "Thank you, Shery. Keep the compliments coming..."</div>' 'autogenerated_68980'>><<setloyal -1>><<setintelligence -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Ignore her.</div>' 'autogenerated_68981'>><<setshery -5>><<setloyal -5>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

The quartermaster gives you a muzzy smile. "I am? But I feel so wonderful at present moment. I'm having fun!" <<include 'checksherypotion'>>

<<include 'checksherypotion'>>

Hallana finally sets her ladle down with a frown and leans over to examine Shery's cauldron. With a muffled exclamation, she suddenly snatches up the recipe card Shery has been using and hisses, "Gods preserve us! Who put you in charge of something like <i>this</i>?!" Everyone hurries over to crowd around Shery's station. Her cauldron is releasing a truly suffocating scent, something like winterspear and charred, burnt sugar, though the recipe card in Hallana's hand doesn't name what the concoction actually is. <<nobr>><<if ($specialization is "Binder") or ($arcane >= 50)>> Your knowledge, however, informs you of the brew's true nature at a glance. <</if>><</nobr>> "A truth potion? But..." Osleth's eyes widen. "Oh, no. I thought I gave her the card for bone-knitting!" "You daft idiot!" Lija hisses, backing hastily away from the cauldron and pulling Shery with her. "No wonder she's been babbling away—the fumes of this alone would loosen all but the hardest Khehi's tongue! She should have been working with a mask this whole time!" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Is she going to be all right?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68982'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"We can make truth potions?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68983'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"How did a mix-up like that happen?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68984'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"I think so," Neon tells you, frowning at Shery, though he doesn't seem unduly concerned. "It's not a real truth potion. It's more that it loosens a person's inhibitions, lowers their guard a bit. It's not that much more effective than simply plying a target with liquor, though if you can slip it into someone's drink undetected, it would certainly make a spy's job easier for an hour or so. It wears off quickly, though. And it doesn't work against someone who's truly resistant, so you can't just pour it down a wary prisoner's throat. It's more of a simple relaxant rather than something that forces truth out of someone's mouth against their will." He glances ruefully at Shery, who leans against Lija with a blurry smile. "She seems to be having a good time with it, anyway." <<include 'helpshery5'>>

"They're not real truth potions," Neon tells you, frowning at Shery, though he doesn't seem unduly concerned. "It's more that they loosen a person's inhibitions, lower their guard a bit. It's not that much more effective than simply plying a target with liquor, though if you can slip it into someone's drink undetected, it would certainly make a spy's job easier for an hour or so. It wears off quickly, though. And it doesn't work against someone who's truly resistant, so you can't just pour it down a wary prisoner's throat. It's more of a simple relaxant than something that forces truth out of someone's mouth against their will." He glances ruefully at Shery, who leans against Lija with a blurry smile. "She seems to be having a good time with it, anyway." <<include 'helpshery5'>>

Osleth gives a hapless shrug. "There's a box of recipe cards," he says. "The first three ingredients are the same—I forgot that the truth potion was in there, so when I handed it to her, I just assumed—" "It's not a real truth potion," Neon tells you, frowning at Shery, though he doesn't seem unduly concerned. "It's more that it loosens a person's inhibitions, lowers their guard a bit. It's not that much more effective than simply plying a target with liquor, though if you can slip it into someone's drink undetected, it would certainly make a spy's job easier for an hour or so. It wears off quickly, though. And it doesn't work against someone who's truly resistant, so you can't just pour it down a wary prisoner's throat. It's more of a simple relaxant rather than something that forces truth out of someone's mouth against their will." He glances ruefully at Shery, who leans against Lija with a blurry smile. "She seems to be having a good time with it, anyway." <<include 'helpshery5'>>

"She'll be back to normal in about an hour," Hallana adds briskly, peering into Shery's eyes. The Norm woman blinks slowly, and also a little asynchronously. "However, it's likely she won't remember a large part of this conversation. That's part of the potion's intended effects, and..." She glances warily into Shery's cauldron again. "...unfortunately for her, the quartermaster is excellent at following instructions." You guide Shery away from her workstation, her hand resting on the inside of your elbow <<nobr>><<if $sheryromanceflag >= 12>> and warming it deliciously <</if>><</nobr>> as she protests, "But I'm having fun!" Hallana regards you shrewdly. "Where will you take her?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"To her bedroom. She needs a rest in private, away from people, I think."</div>' 'autogenerated_68985'>><<setshery +5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"To the infirmary. I want her to get checked out, just in case."</div>' 'autogenerated_68986'>><<setshery +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"To the refectory. A good meal might help accelerate her recovery from the potion."</div>' 'autogenerated_68987'>><<setshery -1>><</link>> <<if ($cunning >= 55)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"To the outer courtyard, to get some fresh air." And perhaps some answers to other questions you've been curious about...</div>' 'autogenerated_68988'>><<setcunning +3>><<setshery -5>><</link>><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $sheryromanceflag >= 10>> <<set $sheryromanceflag += 1>> <</if>> Hallana's gaze is <<if $sheryromanceflag >= 12>> approving, though after a moment, she says firmly, "It's a fine idea, but I think <i>I'll</i> take her. Shery would thank me for it, I think. You're the last person she'd want to be around when she's blurting out... whatever is in her mind." She takes custody of Shery before you can protest. <<else>> approving. "Just so. Save the poor girl from any further embarrassment, will you?" <<set $sherycustody to true>> <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'checkhelppotionend'>>

<<nobr>><<if $sheryromanceflag >= 10>> <<set $sheryromanceflag += 1>> <</if>> Hallana's gaze is <<if $sheryromanceflag >= 12>> approving, though after a moment, she says firmly, "It's a fine idea, but I think <i>I'll</i> take her. Shery would thank me for it, I think. You're the last person she'd want to be around when she's blurting out... whatever is in her mind." She takes custody of Shery before you can protest. <<else>> approving. "Just so. The poor girl will be fine, but at least the infirmary will save her from any further embarrassment." <<set $sherycustody to true>> <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'checkhelppotionend'>>

Hallana's gaze narrows. "Hmm. But won't she be exposed to more people asking her questions she'll feel compelled to answer?" "The infirmary or her room might be better," Neon suggests. "Yes," Hallana announces then, smartly. "<i>I'll</i> take her. I need a break from these fumes, anyway." Her hand curves protectively around her belly as she <<nobr>><<if $sheryromanceflag >= 12>> shoots you a keen look. "And Shery would thank me for it, I think. You're the last person she'd want to be around when she's blurting out... whatever is in her mind." She takes custody of Shery before you can protest. <<else>> says it. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'checkhelppotionend'>>

<<nobr>><<if $sheryromanceflag >= 5>> <<set $sheryromanceflag -= 5>> <</if>><</nobr>> Hallana's gaze narrows. "I think not," she says crisply, retrieving custody of Shery's arm before you can protest. "<i>I'll</i> take her to the infirmary to get checked up. I need a break from these fumes, anyway." Her hand curves protectively around her belly as she <<nobr>><<if $sheryromanceflag >= 12>> shoots you a keen look. "And Shery would thank me for it, I think. You're the last person she'd want to be around when she's blurting out... whatever is in her mind." <<else>> says it. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'checkhelppotionend'>>

The other Mages have to scurry back to their work after that. <<nobr>><<if ($helppotion is true) and ($sherycustody is true)>> You glance back at your cauldron as you make to lead Shery out of the room. <<if $potionsuccess is 3>> It's emitting a sweet smell now, and has turned the requisite silvery blue. "You'll need to remove that from the heat, I think." <br><br> "On it," Neon replies smartly. He glances at Shery. "Feel better, Shery." <br><br> <<include "sheryleaving">> <<elseif ($potionsuccess < 3) and ($potionsuccess >= 1)>> It's emitting a sour smell now, and has turned a startling shade of deep violet. "I'm... not sure that turned out right." <br><br> Neon glances at it with unconcern. "I can fix it... with some tinkering." He looks with more sympathy at Shery. "Feel better, Shery." <br><br> <<include "sheryleaving">> <<else>> It's emitting a disgusting, rancid reek now, and has turned a vile green. "I... think that batch is unusable." <br><br> Neon glances at it with unconcern, then does a double-take. "Lords above! How did you—" He seems to remember who he's talking to, and snaps his lips shut. "Well. We can dispose of it and start again." He glances with more concern at Shery. "Feel better, Shery." <br><br> <<include "sheryleaving">> <</if>> <<elseif ($helppotion is true) and ($sherycustody is false)>> You glance back at your cauldron as you make to follow Shery and Hallana from the room, feeling as if it would feel odd to stay behind now that Shery's out of commission. <<if $potionsuccess is 3>> It's emitting a sweet smell now, and has turned the requisite silvery blue. "You'll need to remove that from the heat, I think." <br><br> "On it," Neon replies smartly. He glances at Shery. "Feel better, Shery." <br><br> <<include "sheryleaving">> <<elseif ($potionsuccess < 3) and ($potionsuccess >= 1)>> It's emitting a sour smell now, and has turned a startling shade of deep violet. "I'm... not sure that turned out right." <br><br> Neon glances at it with unconcern. "I can fix it... with some tinkering." He looks with more sympathy at Shery. "Feel better, Shery." -<br><br> <<include "sheryleaving">> <<else>> It's emitting a disgusting, rancid reek now, and has turned a vile green. "I... think that batch is unusable." <br><br> Neon glances at it with unconcern, then does a double-take. "Lords above! How did you—" He seems to remember who he's talking to, and snaps his lips shut. "Well. We can dispose of it and start again." He glances with more concern at Shery. "Feel better, Shery." <br><br> <<include "sheryleaving">> <</if>> <<elseif ($helppotion is false) and ($sherycustody is false)>> You leave the room with Shery and Hallana, feeling as if it would be odd to stay behind now that the person you were waiting for is departing. Neon calls after you, "Feel better, Shery." <br><br> <<include "sheryleaving">> <<else>> You leave the room with Shery on your arm as Neon calls out, "Feel better, Shery." <br><br> <<include "sheryleaving">> <</if>><</nobr>>

The quartermaster leans toward you with a giggle as you walk out into the cooler air of the corridor, dropping her voice to a mischievous undertone, her blue eyes dancing merrily. "Better? I feel the best I ever have!" She sighs longingly. "I wish I could be like this all the time." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You can, you know. If you really want to."</div>' 'autogenerated_68989'>><<set $sheryharden += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Me, too, Shery. Me, too."</div>' 'autogenerated_68990'>><<setshery -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You're brilliant just the way you normally are."</div>' 'autogenerated_68991'>><<setshery +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Trust me, you don't. It's quite annoying."</div>' 'autogenerated_68992'>><<setshery -5>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Whatever Shery thinks of that, however, she manages to not say. Perhaps the potion is wearing off already. Her gaze, however, lingers on yours as she follows you out dutifully, her eyes full of a rare unguarded light. <<include 'checkpotionsuccess'>>

Whatever Shery thinks of that, however, she manages to not say. Perhaps the potion is wearing off already. She staggers off after that, giddy with an emotion you can't name. <<include 'checkpotionsuccess'>>

<<nobr>><<if $sherycustody is false>> Hallana shoots you a reproving look, but Shery laughs. "At least <i>you're</i> always honest with me, <<c firstname>>," she giggles. <<else>> Shery's mouth twitches. "At least <i>you're</i> always honest with me, <<c firstname>>," she giggles. <</if>><</nobr>> She staggers off after that, giddy with an emotion you can't name. <<include 'checkpotionsuccess'>>

<<nobr>><<if $potionsuccess is 3>> <<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "neonslettershery">><<set $glovesofstrength to true, $strength += 5>><</link>> <<else>> <<include "sheryover">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Much later, you return to your darkened rooms to find a pair of battered-looking gauntlets lying on your desk. With them comes a note written in a squarish, methodical hand: <<set $loadPassage to Story.get("neonsletter").text;>> <<letter_holder "note" $loadPassage>>

<<nobr>> <<if $education is "Circle-trained">> <i><<c firstname>>,</i> <<else>> <i><<c rank>>,</i> <</if>> <br><br> <i>I looked in on Shery and saw that she's fine now, even if she's fuzzy on the details of what happened earlier. She asked if she did anything embarrassing, <<if $sheryromanceflag >= 10>> and was particularly anxious to ensure she hadn't done anything to upset you, <</if>> but I assured her all is well. It's probably best to pretend as if nothing unusual was said—she couldn't help being accidentally dosed, after all.</i> <br><br> <i>As thanks for your help, you can use these gloves I was practicing my warding on. They'll bolster your physical strength when you wear them.</i> <br><br> <i>Regards,</i> <br><br> <i>Saleneon Perdonas</i> <</nobr>> <<include "sheryover">>

<<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "dayoff">><<set $sherytime += 1>><</link>>

<<audio ":playing" fadeoverto 5 0>> <<if $tallystime is 0 and $part lte 6>> <<include "tallysinterlude1">> <<elseif $tallystime is 1>> <<include "tallysinterlude2">> <<elseif $tallystime is 2 and $part lt 9>> <<include "tallysinterlude3">> <<elseif ($tallystime is 2 and $part gte 9) or ($tallystime is 0 and $part gt 6)>> Unfortunately, it seems you've missed the opportunity to spend time with this character. <br><br> <<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "dayoff">><<set $dayoff -= 1>><</link>> <<else>> [Sorry, this path is INCOMPLETE. Check back again when an addition is announced!] <br><br> <<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "dayoff">><<set $dayoff -= 1>><</link>> <</if>>

<<settallys +3>> You find Tallys at the Shepherds' archery range, a little training area tucked away into the corner of the compound. When you approach her, the Shepherds' third-in-command has her back turned to you: she seems preoccupied with testing the flexibility of her bow by bending it against the ground. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if ($heritage is "Elf")>><<link '<div class="heritage-item">Greet her in Elvish.</div>' 'autogenerated_68993'>><<settallys +5>><<set $tallysromanceflag += 1>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($heritage is not "Elf")>><div class="inactive-item">Greet her in Elvish.</div><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Are you sure you want to treat your bow that way? Seems like you're going to break it."</div>' 'autogenerated_68994'>><<settallys -3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm curious: is the archer as flexible as her bow?" <b>[INNUENDO]</b></div>' 'autogenerated_68995'>><<settallys +3>><<set $tallysromanceflag += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Hello, Tallys."</div>' 'autogenerated_68996'>><<settallys +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Tallys turns abruptly at your Elvish greeting, for a moment looking as startled as a deer in a meadow. Then, when she sees you, her normally serious face relaxes into a smile. And not her general cool-eyed, polite smile, either—a genuine smile, one that is warm and unguarded and youthful. "<i>Aya lani</i>, <<c firstname>>," she greets back, putting her fist over her heart in the traditional greeting. "I wasn't expecting to see you here on your day off. Or to hear you speak Elvish so well." Then she tips her head a little, so that her pointed ears show through her dark hair. "Though I did notice that you seem to be of the blood." "These old things?" you quip, gesturing towards your own slightly-less-pointed ears. "Yes, I suppose I have some of the Green Lady in me—but I'm not sure how much. I am one of the People, though. I was raised by the Elves in Vale: Elvish is my first language." Tallys lifts her eyebrows at your mention of Vale—a place that everyone knows was destroyed—but she doesn't ask questions about how you escaped that fate. Among Elves it can be considered impolite to ask direct questions, as it's perceived as demanding an answer from the questioned; and Elves, with their long lives, have all the time in the world to conduct oblique conversations that only tangentially hint at what they're really saying. This habit seems to have eroded with the Elves' continued absorption into the Autarchy, but you've noticed that Tallys herself often still abides by it. She says instead: "I passed through Vale myself, some time before I came to Haven. Strange to think that we missed each other by such a short amount of time." "How long ago were you there?" you ask, trying not to sound wary. A faint smile plays on Tallys's lips. "Only eighty years ago." <<include 'tallys_continue'>>

Tallys turns, looking entirely unsurprised to see you: you suppose this means she knew you were there all along. She says, in a chilly, polite way: "Actually, this is good for a bow. It reflexes the tips to enhance performance. I even bend it using steam every sennight or so." "Ah," you say, a little embarrassed. "Carry on, then." "I will," Tallys answers calmly. <<include 'tallys_continue'>>

Tallys turns and spots you: her face relaxes into a smile, but she seems to take your question entirely seriously. "I would liken myself to the bow, yes," she answers. "Any good archer should. They must be flexible in any situation, able to bend and shift as circumstances demand. If they are stiff and rigid, too stubborn to factor in change, their arrows will not fly true." You raise your eyebrows, going along with the change in subject. "Doesn't seem like a very Elven attitude, wanting to embrace change," you comment. "What's the old poem? Something about the Elf remaining as timeless as the mountain, as unbending as the great oak, while the world changes around them?" "And look where that attitude got us," Tallys answers lightly. "Under the heel of the Autarchy." <<include 'tallys_continue'>>

She turns. "Hello, <<c firstname>>," she answers plainly. "Dare I ask what mischief you're up to today?" You feign a shocked expression. "Who says I'm up to any mischief?" She shrugs, but you can see a slight smile playing on her lips. "You just have that look about you," she says. "Someone set to bring about great change—or turmoil." <<include 'tallys_greeting_continue'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Thank... you?"</div>' 'autogenerated_68997'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Yup, that sounds like me."</div>' 'autogenerated_68998'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"That seems a little dramatic."</div>' 'autogenerated_68999'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"You're welcome," Tallys answers calmly. <<include 'tallys_continue'>>

"I'm usually right about these things," Tallys says seriously. <<include 'tallys_continue'>>

"Maybe," Tallys says cryptically. "Though I usually find that I'm right in these matters." <<include 'tallys_continue'>>

Then she cocks her head at you. The sun is already as fierce as a hammer blow today, but she doesn't seem to notice it. "What are you up to?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I just wanted to see what you were up to."</div>' 'clearlypleasedtallys'>><<settallys +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I was just taking a stroll around the compound..."</div>' 'autogenerated_69000'>><<setcunning +3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Tallys smirks. "What a coincidence that your path led you here," she notes, her voice carefully devoid of tone. "To me." You put your hands into your pockets. "Yup. Just an interesting coincidence. I won't keep you, though." <<include 'cunningtallys'>>

Tallys smiles, clearly pleased that you deliberately sought her out. She unstrings her bow and slips it into a leather sleeve. <<include "tallysvisit">>

Tallys smiles to herself and unstrings her bow, slipping it into a leather sleeve. <<include "tallysvisit">>

"I was just finishing up here, actually," she says. "Whenever I get the chance, I usually make my way up to the top of the city, to the Sun Court. I was just about to do that now." In this you recognize an oblique invitation to join her. <<include "tallysinvitation">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Do you want any company?"</div>' 'autogenerated_69001'>><<settallys +3>><<set $tallysromanceflag += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"That sounds... interesting. I think I'll pass, though."</div>' 'autogenerated_69002'>><<settallys -3>><</link>> <<if not hasVisited("tallyssuncourtask")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"...The Sun Court?"</div>' 'tallyssuncourtask'>><</link>><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

Tallys smiles; although her overall expression doesn't change, her eyes shine with a hidden excitement. "Of course, <<c firstname>>," she tells you, a rare warmth in her voice. "I was hoping you would come." <<include 'menagerie5'>>

Tallys's expression doesn't change. "Fair enough," she says. "Go well, then, <<c firstname>>. Enjoy the rest of your day off." <<include 'tallysover'>>

<<page_break "Next" "menagerie">>

From what you've seen and heard, Tallys seems to hold the Autarchy in strong distaste: what business could she possible have at the Sun Court? Tallys reads your thoughts and smiles ruefully. "I have friends there," is all she says. <<include "tallysinvitation">>

On the way to Sun Court, you can't help but wonder if Tallys asked you to accompany her because she finds going there to be a terrible chore—not because she considers it a pleasant experience. Her face certainly says so. Although the Elf usually retains a look of calm and placid frankness, now she simply looks... <i>disgusted</i> as she moves through the crowds of the Market District, forging her way towards the upper tiers of Whitestone and the Sun Court. Any time a passerby bumps into her or a shop crier bellows an advertisement into her face, a look of revulsion spasms across Tallys's features. She sidesteps through bands of tourists wedged together and groups of bickering merchants with such alacrity that you almost lose her in the crush of people. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Could you slow down?"</div>' 'autogenerated_69003'>><<setstrength -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"So... I take it you're not a big fan of city life."</div>' 'autogenerated_69004'>><<settallys +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"It's okay. I hate it too."</div>' 'autogenerated_69005'>><<settallys +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Is there somewhere else you'd like to go?"</div>' 'autogenerated_69006'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Tallys shoots you an apologetic look. "I'm sorry," she says, slowing her pace. "It's just so... chaotic. I'm still not used to all of the noises, the... smells. Before Haven, I lived in open spaces, plains free to the sky and wind. Crowds like this make me... nervous." <<include 'tallysinfo'>>

She shoots you an apologetic look. "Not exactly," she admits, weaving her way around a jester flapping ribbons in shoppers' faces. "It's so... chaotic. Before Haven, I had only lived in open spaces, plains free to the sky and wind. By contrast, all of this can be... overwhelming." She looks wistful. "Sometimes I go outside the walls to escape it all, find some peace. But it only lasts a short while before I have to go back." <<include 'tallysinfo'>>

She shoots you a grateful look. "You do?" You shrug. "Who wouldn't?" Tallys looks pensive as she weaves her way around a jester flapping ribbons in shoppers' faces. "Trouble and Shery are used to it," she notes. "Having grown up here. I don't know how the Commander feels about it. But before Haven, <i>I</i> grew up in open spaces—plains free to the sky and wind. By contrast, all of this can be... overwhelming." She looks wistful. "Sometimes I go outside the walls to escape it all, find some peace. But it only lasts a short while before I have to go back." <<include 'tallysinfo'>>

Tallys shoots you an apologetic look. "Is it so obvious?" "Sort of." She grimaces as she weaves her way around a jester flapping ribbons in shoppers' faces. "I'm sorry. It's just... so chaotic. Before Haven, I grew up in open spaces, plains free to the sky and wind. By contrast, all of this can be... overwhelming." She looks wistful. "Sometimes I go outside the walls to escape it all, find some peace. But it only lasts a short while before I have to go back." <<include 'tallysinfo'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("tallys_grew_up")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Where did you grow up, exactly?"</div>' 'tallys_grew_up'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("tallys_age")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"How old are you, anyway?"</div>' 'tallys_age'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("tallys_haven")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"How did you come to Haven?"</div>' 'tallys_haven'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("tallys_shepherds")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Why did you join the Shepherds?"</div>' 'tallys_shepherds'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">The conversation naturally dies out.</div>' 'tallysnext'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Tallys glances at you, looking a little guarded. "I was Keeper for the Ironwood clan," she says. "We traveled the land all the way from Rithmere and the southern coast up to the Bleakmoor marshes, making a circuit every few years." <<nobr>><<if $heritage is "Elf">> You nod. The Keeper is an important position in an Elven enclave, tasked with preserving the clan's stories, memories, traditions, and culture. They're constantly consulted before making decisions, so that the Elves can learn from their history and stay true to the ways of the past. It's a position second only to a tribe's Speaker, the leader who claims to make his or her decisions based on the will of the gods. That was the position your father once held. <br><br> You tell Tallys this. She looks impressed. "That means you might have been in line to become Speaker," she says. "Maybe in another life we would have met each other, tribe to tribe." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I doubt it. He wasn't my real father, and I'm not a pure-blooded Elf."</div>' 'autogenerated_69007'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"That would have been nice."</div>' 'autogenerated_69008'>><<settallys +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I think us meeting like this is better."</div>' 'autogenerated_69009'>><<settallys +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <<else>> <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"What's a Keeper?"</div>' 'autogenerated_69010'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"That must have been nice, getting to travel around like that."</div>' 'autogenerated_69011'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <</if>><</nobr>>

"A Keeper is the person in an Elven clan who's responsible for preserving the clan's stories, memories, traditions, and culture," Tallys answers. "They're like historians who are also advisors to the clan's leaders. The Keeper keeps the clan's history alive and guides the tribe in staying true to the old ways." "An important position, then," you note. Tallys smiles faintly. "Second only to the clan's Speaker," she says. "Our leader who speaks for the will of the gods." <<include 'tallysinfo'>>

Tallys smiles nostalgically. "It was," she says. "We saw many sights and wonders. It was enough to remind us that Blest is still a beautiful place to live in—regardless of other circumstances." She doesn't have to explain what those "other circumstances" are. <<include 'tallysinfo'>>

"A Speaker needs to know their people's history and culture, all the way back to the Dawn Wars," you state. "But I don't know where I came from—where my family came from. I wouldn't have been made Speaker." Tallys's lips quirk. "A Speaker needs to live their life with their clan," she says. "Nothing more, nothing less. If that was true of you, you would have been eligible." <<include 'tallysinfo'>>

Tallys's lips quirk, though the smile doesn't reach her eyes. "It's a shame it never came to pass." <<include 'tallysinfo'>>

Tallys laughs suddenly, the sound brittle but somehow sweet. "Your attitude is very... admirable," she says. "I think this is a nice way to meet, too." <<include 'tallysinfo'>>

<<nobr>><<if $heritage is "Elf">> You know this is a bit of a faux pas to ask another Elf, but the question slips out of your mouth before you can stop it. <</if>><</nobr>> Tallys looks at you flatly, though she doesn't seem offended by your question. "I turned three-hundred and twenty-six this past Camoa." The answer gives you a jolt, although you of course know about the Elves and their slow aging. "That would mean you remember a time before the Castigation!" you blurt. Tallys's face shutters. "Yes," she answers, with a tight calmness. "I do." <<include "tallysinfo">>

Even as the question leaves your mouth, you regret asking it; it could be a sensitive topic. However, Tallys seems unaffected. "The Autarchy's Inquisitors hunted my clan into extinction," she answers, with almost brutal calm. She stops to take a look at a sprig of teren leaf growing in a pot, then moves on. "We often passed close to Norm settlements on our travels. When we camped out close to one, apparently some of their cattle went missing. The townsfolk blamed it on us and reported us to the Inquisitors without coming to ask us about the crime first. The Inquisitors came and slaughtered everyone in the night for theft. Even the children." Her look turns bitter. "I only missed the attack because I happened to make a foray that night to visit some nearby ruins. I returned to find... carnage and senselessness, when I'd been expecting breakfast and a warm bed." She looks away. "In the morning I buried the dead, salvaged what I could, and eventually came to Haven as a refugee, seeking others of my own kind." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm so sorry..."</div>' 'autogenerated_69012'>><<settallys +1>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"We have similar stories, you and I."</div>' 'autogenerated_69013'>><<settallys +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"<i>Did</i> your clan steal the cattle?"</div>' 'autogenerated_69014'>><<settallys -10>><<setcharisma -10>><<setintelligence -1>><<setcunning +1>><<setcourage +1>><<set $tallysharden -= 1>><</link>> <<if ($heritage is "Elf")>><<link '<div class="heritage-item">"Typical of their kind. They'll freeze in <i>asarasa</i> for all eternity."</div>' 'autogenerated_69015'>><<settallys +3>><</link>><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

Tallys shakes her head. "I am, too," she says softly. "More than I can say." She bends over to inspect another potted plant closely and falls silent. <<include 'tallysinfo'>>

"I come from similar origins," you tell her. "Though it was the Endarkened that destroyed my home, not the Inquisitors." Tallys smiles at you only faintly. "To me, they are one and the same," she answers. "Demons, all of them." <<include 'tallysinfo'>>

Tallys's gaze snaps towards you. "Of course not," she answers. Her voice is as calm as ever, but her features are stiff with indignation. "We were perfectly capable of hunting for our own food—we did not need to steal from farmers. If they had approached us and seen our furs, the deer haunches we had roasting over our fires, they would have seen that. But they never did." "I'm sorry," you begin. "I didn't mean to imply—" "And even if we <i>had</i> stolen the cows, it was not a crime that should have been punishable by death," Tallys continues, vehement now. "Had the thieves been Norm simpletons, they would have been consigned to—what, fines? A few days in the village stocks? Not mass murder, delivered wholesale. Not butchered children and burnt homes. They even slaughtered our animals." Then she turns her face away and falls silent. <<include 'tallysinfo'>>

<<nobr>><<if $gender is "xixian">> <<set $sibling to "friend">> <</if>><</nobr>> Tallys smiles at your mention of Elvish hell—a wintry abyss devoid of life, warmth, or joy. "Hear, hear, $sibling," she says softly. "Let's hope." <<nobr>><<if $gender is "xixian">> <<set $sibling to "sibling">> <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'tallysinfo'>>

"I imagine you must hate the Autarchy," you can't help but add. Tallys turns to you, utterly serious. "I <i>do</i> hate the Autarchy," she answers simply. "Serving the very entity that destroyed my home and family galls me to my core. But..." She hesitates. "Somebody needs to protect the Diminished. Either from the injustices of the Autarchy or from the encroachment of the Endarkened. If the Shepherds were composed only of Norms, they'd only protect Norm citizens, serve Norm interests. But if I am a leader, I can ensure that we do our part to protect the innocent Diminished, in Haven and elsewhere—people whom the Autarchy won't even allow to protect themselves." She grimaces, looking bitter. "And I can do what I can to influence the policies of the Autarchy from within. Even if just by a little." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Do you hate Norms, then?"</div>' 'autogenerated_69016'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Would you protect a member of the Autarchy, if you had to?"</div>' 'autogenerated_69017'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Tallys hesitates for just the barest second. "Yes," she finally answers, with brutal honesty. "At the very least, I am indifferent to their fates, as they are indifferent to mine. No Norm in this city would mourn me if I were to die tomorrow, protecting Haven from an Endarkened threat. I will return that treatment in kind. I will not mourn them, either." <<include 'tallys_norms_continue'>>

Tallys hesitates for just the barest second. "In truth, no," she admits. "Our oath says to 'protect the innocent,' no matter who they are. But I do not think anyone within the Consortium is innocent." "Is Blade aware you feel this way?" She pauses, looking at you as if wondering whether you're going to rat her out to the Commander. "No," she says softly. "We have not reached a point where my views on this have needed to become clear. I hope we never do." The implication in this is clear: if Blade were to find out, Tallys would likely not be in a position of leadership anymore. <<include 'tallysinfo'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"What about Trouble and Shery?"</div>' 'autogenerated_69018'>><<settallys +1>><<settrouble +1>><<setshery +1>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Do you think it's fair to judge all Norms as a single entity?"</div>' 'autogenerated_69019'>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setintelligence +1>><<set $tallysharden += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I understand how you feel. The Norms have oppressed our people for a long time."</div>' 'autogenerated_69020'>><<settallys +3>><<setcompassionate -1>><<setcunning +1>><<setloyal -1>><<set $tallysharden -= 1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Tallys hesitates for just a moment. "They are different," is all she says. "Hmm," you say. You can't help but think of Prihine and Caine. <<include 'tallysinfo'>>

"I mean, some of them judge all Elves as inferior, or all Diminished as monsters," you point out. "And that isn't fair either, is it? Not all Norms are the way you're making them out to be." Tallys frowns. "The majority of them are," she asserts. "And that's all that counts in this world." <<include 'tallysinfo'>>

Tallys nods and places a hand on your arm. "I'm glad you understand," she says, suddenly earnest. "It is hard to feel empathy for them when they extend none towards us." <<include 'tallysinfo'>>

Suddenly you notice that you've already passed through the busy crowds of the Market District and even the quiet residential avenues of Whitestone. Now you're standing before the vast golden gates that mark the boundaries of the Sun Court. For reasons unknown, a sudden feeling of apprehension and dread springs up in you. If Tallys hates the Autarchy so much, what "friends" could she possibly be visiting here? Is it even safe for her to have brought you along? Tallys senses your disquiet and smiles at you, slipping an arm around yours and directing you towards the gate. "Don't worry," she says with quiet warmth. "My friends are going to like you." <<page_break "Next" "tallys_menagerie">>

It finally dawns on you who Tallys is talking about when she drags you past the Vice Guard's barracks, past the government houses of the Consortium, and even past the infamous gallows, where the Inquisitors hold the public hanging of criminals on full moons. There's a small, overlooked path winding back along the monstrous walls of the Autarch's estate; and a sign on the walls, partially hidden by overgrown vines, reads <b><i>MENAGERIE.</i></b> Tallys's friends are the animals in the Autarch's personal menagerie. The place looks a wonder, and it dimly surprises you that the Autarch would open it up to the public for free: there are acres upon acres of immaculately-manicured gardens, vast exhibits modeled to look like the natural terrain of the animals they house. "A very pretty cage," Tallys murmurs as she guides you down the first fork in the path. Some guards flick their gazes at you dispassionately, but no one stops you as you move to the first exhibit. There are yiwari in there, the great hunting dogs of the Plains: their fur is sand-colored, their eyes bright with intelligence, and they're nearly as big as horses, certainly the height of a grown man when stretched upright on their hind legs. They perk up as they scent Tallys's arrival and begin to circle and pace in their desert-themed pen, twenty feet below you. Tallys contentedly leans over the waist-high fencing around the exhibit and holds her hand out, palm down; the yiwari whine and wag their tails with excitement, stretching up on their hind legs in vain to touch her. They seem to be communicating with her, possibly about you: a current of meaning passes between them and Tallys as she speaks to them softly in Elvish, and several of the yiwari cock their heads at you in greeting. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if ($heritage is "Elf") and ($specialization is not "wild")>><<link '<div class="heritage-item">"I wish I could understand them." You never inherited the Elves' natural ability to communicate with animals.</div>' 'autogenerated_69021'>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($specialization is "wild")>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Use your wild magic to listen in on their conversation, even if it isn't strictly legal in this context.</div>' 'autogenerated_69022'>><<setloyal -4>><<setmagic +1>><<setpsionic +1>><<setcourage +1>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"They're beautiful animals."</div>' 'autogenerated_69023'>><<settallys +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"This is what you brought me all the way here for?"</div>' 'autogenerated_69024'>><<settallys -4>><<setcompassionate -3>><<setloyal -3>><<setcharisma -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"What are they saying?"</div>' 'autogenerated_69025'>><<setintelligence +1>><<settallys +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Tallys pats your arm sympathetically. "At least you have magic," she says. "Unlike the rest of us, who can only hope to listen and understand a little. I'll translate for you." She pauses for a moment, listening to the dogs whine below in their pit. "They say you smell powerful," she says after a moment. "Strange. But they accept that you're my friend." <<include 'tallys_yiwari_continue'>>

The yiwari operate as a pack, and interestingly enough seem to obey a matriarchy, with the lead female—<i>queenchiefmothersisterfriend</i> goes the excited stream of consciousness that you're picking up—being the main one to whine and chuff at Tallys with courteous respect. <i>You smell of the evil ones</i>, the yiwari female notes, curling her lip up in an expression of both distaste and esteem. Her human handlers dub her Ursha, you sense, the name of the delicate princess in the fairytale—an obvious irony, given the yiwari's hulking form, missing left eye, and singularly wicked look. <i>Have you had good hunting, then?</i> <i>Very,</i> Tallys acknowledges. <i>This is one of my fellow hunters: <<c firstname>> <<c surname>>.</i> The yiwari queen flicks you a look of interested assessment, her tail stirring the dirt behind her. The younger dogs shoulder forward to get a better look at you, but still keep a respectful distance behind Ursha. <i>Well met</i>, the alpha female tells you. <i>If Tallys respects you enough to bring you here, then you must be a strong hound indeed.</i> Then a small door on the far side of their enclosure opens, and the pack's heads perk up, their thoughts becoming lost in a tide of instinct and hunger as they lunge forward for their proffered afternoon snack: several haunches of something bloody and hairy served on a large tray. You think it might be goat. Tallys turns to you with a dry smile as the pack descends on their meal, tails wagging. "She likes you. Most yiwari are completely domesticated and wired to respond positively to visitors, but not Ursha—she has a mind of her own." <<include 'tallys_yiwari_continue'>>

"They are," Tallys says, smiling fondly down at them. "At the very least, the Autarch gives them good care. They're well-fed, exercised daily, given toys and grooming. But they long to run on the open plains. It's in their blood." <<include 'tallys_yiwari_continue'>>

"Are you disappointed?" Tallys asks lightly. She shakes her head down at the whining yiwari. "Sorry, my friends, but you know the rules. They won't allow me to bring you treats anymore. They think I might poison you." "Has that happened before?" you ask, surprised. "Oh, yes," Tallys says darkly. "The Autarch loves them dearly. And there are many people who would love to hurt the Autarch—but even knowing this, she leaves the place open." <<include 'tallys_yiwari_continue'>>

"They're curious about you," Tallys answers, smiling fondly down at them. "They say you smell strange. Powerful. But they accept that you're my friend." She pauses for a moment, listening. "They also tell me the Autarch hasn't visited them lately. She's been too sick." <<include 'tallys_yiwari_continue'>>

<<nobr>><<set $tallysstatus to "You're getting to know her better, and she's made her loathing of the Autarchy clear to you.">> <<set $tallystrait1 to "reserved">> <<set $tallystrait2 to "wary">><</nobr>>"It's a shame the Autarch has to keep them locked up like this," you comment. Tallys laughs to herself, but the sound is sad and brittle. "They feel the same way about <i>us</i>," she tells you. "They pity us, you know. They don't envy our freedom, because we don't have any more than they do—try as we might to convince ourselves otherwise." You stare at her. "What do you mean?" She sighs and drops her hand. "At least the animals here are cared for and well-fed," Tallys says. "That's more than most people in Haven can say. But it still gets too easy to forget the reality of things. That's why I come here so often, to remind myself of the truth." "The truth being?" you ask. She looks at you, grave now. "Haven is a cage, <<c firstname>>," Tallys says. "Never forget that. No matter how things look, no matter how pretty the cage is or how much power the Shepherds gain—it is always still a cage. And us, all of us?" She looks away. "We are all only captives in the Autarch's menagerie." <<include "tallysover">>

<<settallys +3>>After some searching, you find Tallys at the training grounds this time; instead of practicing her archery at the range, she's overseeing the hand-to-hand combat training of some of the newer recruits, her gaze as calm and placid as ever. Only a slight tightness at the corners of her mouth shows that she's watching the recruits critically. "Can we stop yet?" one of them, a younger Mage, complains. He's blocking a ferocious flurry of punches from his opponent with his forearms. "I don't know if I can go much longer!" "An Endarkened won't care if you're tired in battle," Tallys answers, unmoved. "Or a rogue Mage, or a citizen who wants to kill you. The whole point of this exercise is to build your stamina." "But I'm not an Elf or a Ket," the Mage says, disgusted. "I can't go on for hours like you can!" After a few more moments of watching them, Tallys finally relents. "Dismissed," she says, crossing her arms. "You can go for today. But you're all to come back at the crack of dawn for running exercises. Anyone who's late will be reported to the Commander." She doesn't seem to hear the collective groan that goes up as she turns away. Spotting you, Tallys smiles slightly and says, "If you wanted to join, you've come too late." You raise your hands. "I think I'll abstain this time." You note her composure and can't help but feel impressed. "Have you really been doing this for hours? You don't look tired at all." <<nobr>><<if (($tallysromanceflag >= 1) or ($tallys >= 25))>> <<include "tallys2continue">> <<else>> "I have to keep up appearances," Tallys answers with a slight smile. If she were any other person, you think she would have winked. "If they see my energy flagging, theirs will flag in turn. But I am very tired." <br><br> "Too tired to take some time off with me?" <br><br> She pauses for a moment, hesitating. "Yes," Tallys says finally. "I am sorry." <br><br> You try not to show your surprise. "Of course," you say with as much grace as you can muster. "You should rest." <br><br> She gives you an Elvish salute before turning and leaving the training grounds. "Have a wonderful rest of the day off, <<c firstname>>." <br><br> <<include "tallysover">> <</if>><</nobr>>

"I am quite tired," Tallys answers humorously, "but I find that I must keep up appearances if I'm to motivate anyone else to work around here." She gives a brief stretch and then announces, "More liniment will help, I think. This time I'll gather the ingredients myself—outside the walls." She turns to you and raises her eyebrows. You realize it's another oblique invitation: one that she's mentioned before. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'll join you."</div>' 'autogenerated_69026'>><<settallys +5>><<set $tallysromanceflag += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"On second thought, I think I'll rest here."</div>' 'autogenerated_69027'>><<settallys -5>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"I haven't gotten much of a chance to explore the area around Haven," you remark. "It sounds fun." Tallys smiles. "Allow me to be your personal tour guide." <<include 'outsidethewalls5'>>

Tallys's expression doesn't change, but you sense her disappointment. "Of course," she says, ducking her head quickly. "Then… enjoy the rest of your day off." <<include 'tallysover'>>

<<page_break "..." "outsidethewalls">>

<<nobr>><<set $tallysstatus to "You spent some time outside of Haven with her.">><</nobr>> It's a tour unlike any you've ever had before. The descent from Haven's plateau is quick—you simply flash your Shepherds' medallions at the guards at the gate and take the winding, paved road down from the city, passing the lines of merchants and travelers going the opposite way. As the ground flattens out into the expansive, grassy plain below, you finally get a good look at the settlements in the valley of the Sun's Embrace. Little farms, mills, and ranches dot the valley here and here; it's a stark and idyllic change from Haven's industrial factories and cramped urban districts. Tallys informs you that most of the farms are run by Elves, who have chosen this closeness with nature over living in the city. "I thought agriculture was the domain of Norms," you remark. "In the past the Elves never stayed in one place, or raised animals in captivity." Tallys sighs. "Times have changed," she answers. "For some, it's a better alternative to living in the caravans or the wild, battling the elements now that the great forests have been emptied." She looks away. "And, if they live close to Haven, the Autarchy can keep an eye on them. That means they're less likely to be singled out by the Inquisitors as savages or heathens." She brings you to some of these quaint, small farms, where she swaps her own wild herbs for garden-grown ingredients with the Elven farmers. You watch as she laughs and talks easily to them, as if they're neighbors or long-time friends. She seems at peace out here: it almost makes you wonder why she doesn't just live in the valley all of the time. Tallys comes back with her bargained-for herbs. <<nobr>><<if $heritage is "Elf">> The Elves rarely use currency, if they can help it; before the Castigation your people operated solely on good faith and a complex bartering system. Coming back to that sort of lifestyle brings Tallys some measure of comfort, she tells you. <br><br> "I understand that," you say. "It's nostalgic for me, too. We all have holdovers from the past that we like to hang on to." <br><br> Tallys smiles and gives you a leaf of something minty to chew, something she bartered from the last farmer. A soothing coolness spreads from the back of your mouth up to the top of your skull. "This is potent," you comment, surprised. <br><br> "The soil here is good," Tallys says. She glances up at the shadow of Haven, a stark white behemoth looking down from atop its pedestal. "It hasn't been poisoned by the gaze of the Sun Court. At least—not yet." <br><br> <<include "field1">> <<else>> "What are those?" you ask her, nodding to the bundle of leaves in her hand. <br><br> "Elven secret," she tells you. She actually winks. "I can't give out privileged information to outsiders." <br> "Not even a simple liniment recipe? Or some idea of what a particular herb is?" <br><br> Tallys's smile remains, but somehow her mood becomes a little more serious. "Yes," she says. "Not even that." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You guard your secrets so jealously."</div>' 'autogenerated_69028'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I respect your desire to keep secrets."</div>' 'autogenerated_69029'>><<settallys +3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <</if>><</nobr>>

Tallys nods. "I admit that I do," she tells you. "I consider those last scraps of Elven culture the only things left to us by the Autarchy. The Old Faith is dead; the Elven forests and cities and houses of memory are in ruins. These little secrets are the only things we can still claim as really truly ours. As a former Keeper, they matter more to me." She presses her lips together. "And if I can keep them secret, they can't be appropriated or corrupted by outsiders." "But if those secrets aren't shared, they'll die with you, won't they?" you point out. "And if they could help other people—if you knew about some amazing Elven potion that could cure a disease—wouldn't that be worth sharing?" Tallys's look darkens briefly. "I'm not so sure," she answers, blunt. "What have other people ever done to help me?" <<include 'field1'>>

"I'm glad you understand," Tallys says, inclining her head. "Those last scraps of Elven culture are the only things left to us by the Autarchy. The Old Faith is dead; the Elven forests and cities and houses of memory are in ruins. These little secrets are the only things we can still claim as really truly ours. As a former Keeper, they matter more to me." She presses her lips together. "And if I can keep them secret, they can't be appropriated or corrupted by outsiders." You nod, absorbing this sentiment. Tallys is obviously protective of her culture: she doesn't want misinterpretations and misconceptions to skew the Elves' image further, so she would rather people not know anything about them at all. "You're talking about the Greybeak Conspiracy?" Tallys nods. In the beginning of the Autarchy's reign, there was an infestation of greybeaks all across the Damba Plains: migratory, dun-feathered birds who had ravaged the Autarchy's newly-established farms and crops. At some point it had gotten out that the Elves' gift of tongues enabled them to communicate with animals—a little-known fact back then—and the Autarchy had drawn its own conclusions. The Elves were accused of plotting a conspiracy, using birds to sabotage the Norms' food supply and economy. They had been punished harshly for their transgression. You suppose that Tallys must have been alive around then. "I can't say I blame you for being cautious," you say. "But are you alright with the fact that your secrets will die out when you die?" Tallys smiles briefly. "That will take a very long time, hopefully," she answers. "And when they do die, at least they will die unmolested." <<include 'field1'>>

<<page_break "Next" "field2">>

Eventually she shows you the river that runs through the valley, a calm, pale-watered channel that supposedly goes all the way to the sea. Tallys calls it the Naucharin, the sea-stealer: legend has it that when the Polar Candle turns red in the sky, the river reverses its flow, pulling water back from the ocean. "I've never seen the little moon turn red," you say. Tallys gives you a small, secret smile. "It only happens once every three hundred years." You pick a few flowers and weeds along the river, following Tallys's instructions on what to look for. Pale purple flowers with four petals. White-green furry leaves. At some point she wanders over to you and says gently, "No, not like that." <<nobr>><<if $tallysromanceflag >= 3>> Her short hair whispers against your cheek as she bends to examine your work. You can feel her light, cool breath against your neck; the graze of her breast against your arm. When she speaks, her lips tickle your ear. She directs you to another bundle of flowers, and, in doing so, her slim hand actually brushes against your own. <br><br> The two of you pause for a moment, before Tallys bends over the new patch and calmly begins picking the flowers again. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $attractedto is not "men">><<link '<div class="choice-item">Brush against her hand once more.</div>' 'autogenerated_69030'>><<set $tallysromanceflag += 1>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Resume working on another patch.</div>' 'autogenerated_69031'>><<set $tallysromanceflag -= 3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <<else>> She glances into your face and pauses thoughtfully. "Let's take a break." <br><br> <<include "tallysbreak">> <</if>><</nobr>>

You reach out according to Tallys's instruction and "accidentally" graze the back of her hand with your fingertips. At this, a kind of shiver runs through you, and when you glance up, Tallys is smiling at you. She straightens to her full height and easily catches your hand with her own, intertwining your fingers. "Let's take a break," she murmurs. <<include 'tallysbreak'>>

"I feel so clumsy," you remark, bending low to the ground to examine the flowers. "Is this right?" Tallys glances over from her own work. "Yes, you're getting the hang of it." She smiles. "You're a fast learner, 'recruit.'" <<include 'tallysbreak'>>

After a while you find a shady spot under a tree to rest. As you flop down into the grass, Tallys says, "You look like you're thinking about something." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $attractedto is not "men">><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I was just thinking about how beautiful you are."</div>' 'tallysisbeautiful'>><<settallys +3>><<set $tallysromanceflag += 1>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I was just thinking about what it must be like to see the moon turn red."</div>' 'moonturnsred'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I wasn't thinking about anything, actually."</div>' 'autogenerated_69032'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"I see," Tallys says with a smile. Then she cocks her head. <<include 'tallysthinking'>>

Tallys meets your gaze squarely, without a flinch or a blush. "You think so?" You nod, looking at the sun on her hair and shoulders, how content and at-peace she looks. Her lips are curved in a soft smile and her dark green eyes are half-lidded with enjoyment. "I do." She smiles slightly. "I was just thinking the same about you. Perhaps we reflect the beauty around us." At this, she waves a hand at the long grass swaying around you; the silver river winding through the valley like a mythical snake. "The Shepherds should have built our compound out here," you joke. Tallys cocks her head. <<include "tallysthinking">>

Tallys looks thoughtful. "Did you ever hear that old legend about Corvus and Mitna?" <<nobr>><<if $heritage is "Elf">> You nod. "I have, actually. It's one of my old favorites. Corvus, the god of death, and Mitna, the pale moon-mother—keeper of secrets and the night—were once lovers. She loved him, but one day Corvus came to earth to take the life of an Elven lady—a beautiful lady—and fell in love with her, instead. He left Mitna to be with her, and on the night of their monthly meetings, Mitna would hide her face in shame. What about it?" <br><br> "They say that when the Polar Candle—Ainue, Mitna's daughter—turns red, that's when Mitna's rage and jealousy builds past its breaking point, and a time of madness descends on the earth," Tallys says. "The poles reverse, water runs uphill, the days go as dark as night—and men and women turn into raving animals." <br><br> You shudder. "Doesn't sound like a good time to be a Shepherd." <br><br> "Some say it's never a good time to be a Shepherd," Tallys answers lightly. She cocks her head. <<else>> You shake your head. "I can't say I have." <br><br> "It's a story of the old gods," Tallys says, twirling a blade of grass between her fingers. "Corvus, the god of death, and Mitna, the pale moon-mother—keeper of secrets and the night—were lovers. But one day Corvus descended to earth to take away the life of an Elven woman. She was so beautiful and he loved her so madly at first sight that he couldn't bring himself to do it. It was the one and only time Death chose not to kill. They loved each other for a long time afterwards—perhaps they love each other still, even if the old gods have vanished from Blest—and on the nights of their monthly meetings, Mitna hides her face in shame." <br><br> "An interesting legend," you say. "But what does that have to do with the red moon?" <br><br> "They say that when the Polar Candle—Ainue, Mitna's daughter—turns red, that's when Mitna's rage and jealousy builds past its breaking point, and a time of madness descends on the earth," Tallys says. "The poles reverse, water runs uphill, the days go as dark as night—and men and women turn into raving animals." <br><br> You shudder. "Doesn't sound like a good time to be a Shepherd." <br><br> "Some say it's never a good time to be a Shepherd," Tallys answers lightly. She cocks her head. <</if>><</nobr>><<include "tallysthinking">>

"It's already been a few months since you joined the Order, you know. I wanted to ask you: do you feel as if we forced you to join against your will?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"No, not at all. I did it of my own volition, and I'm glad I joined."</div>' 'autogenerated_69033'>><<setloyal +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Maybe I felt that way a bit during the beginning. But now I'm glad I joined."</div>' 'autogenerated_69034'>><</link>> <<if $shepherdsconscript is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Oh, I definitely felt that way. And I still do."</div>' 'autogenerated_69035'>><<setloyal -3>><</link>><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

Tallys smiles at you from beneath her lashes, her expression one of lazy contentment. "Is there any particular reason why you're so glad?" <<include 'tallyswhyglad'>>

Tallys smiles at you from beneath her lashes, her expression one of lazy contentment. "Is there any particular reason why you're glad now?" <<include 'tallyswhyglad'>>

Tallys cocks her head even further. <<nobr>><<if $rank is "Captain">> "Why, then, did you accept Blade's offer to become a Captain?" <br><br> You shrug. "If I'm going to be forced to stay here, I might as have some power." <<else>> "I'm sorry you feel that way," she murmurs. "It took me years to get used to… all of it. Life in the city. Then life in the Shepherds. Life in the Autarchy, period. Sometimes I'll still not sure I'm totally comfortable." She smiles, a little self-deprecatingly. "Hopefully you'll be able to acclimate faster than I did." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'yourturn'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $attractedto is not "men">><<link '<div class="choice-item">Lean closer to her. "Because I met you, Tallys."</div>' 'autogenerated_69036'>><<settallys +1>><<set $tallysromanceflag += 1>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I get to use my powers, which I never got to do before. I have access to resources I never would have outside the Order."</div>' 'autogenerated_69037'>><<setcunning +2>><<setloyal -2>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I get to do good in the world: save lives and protect the innocent. It's a very fulfilling life."</div>' 'autogenerated_69038'>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setloyal +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm protected from the Autarchy this way. I don't have to look over my shoulder and jump at every shadow that's vaguely Inquisitor-shaped."</div>' 'autogenerated_69039'>><<setcunning +5>><<setloyal -5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm glad I met all of you. It feels like home. Like a family."</div>' 'autogenerated_69040'>><<setloyal +5>><<setcompassionate +3>><<settallys +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Tallys's smile widens, and you don't miss how she leans just a hair closer to you—or how her eyes flicker down to your lips. She says softly, "I'm very glad to have met you too, <<c firstname>>." Then she pulls away and clears her throat, though her slightly sleepy, slightly mischievous smile remains. <<include 'yourturn'>>

Tallys nods. "A very interesting reason," she comments neutrally. <<include 'yourturn'>>

<<set $tallystalkk to 0>>"And you?" you ask her, glancing sidelong. "How do you feel about the Shepherds? You've been here so long that I feel you have insights most others wouldn't." If Tallys is surprised by your question, she doesn't show it. "I have many thoughts about the Order," she says slowly. "As well as the people in it. Is there anything in particular you want to know?" <<include "tallystalk">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("tallysaboutblade")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"What do you think about Blade?"</div>' 'tallysaboutblade'>><<set $tallystalkk += 1>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("tallysabouttrouble")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"What do you think about Trouble?"</div>' 'tallysabouttrouble'>><<set $tallystalkk += 1>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("tallysaboutshery")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"What do you think about Shery?"</div>' 'tallysaboutshery'>><<set $tallystalkk += 1>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($tallystalkk >= 2)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"What do you think about me?"</div>' 'tallysaboutme'>><</link>><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

Tallys looks pensive. "The Commander is a good leader," she says, "and a good man. I trust his decisions, even though he's younger than me. And even though his disposition is cool, even ruthless at times, he is also fair; he maintains a code of honor that I admire." She smiles briefly. "One thing the new recruits don't understand is that Blade is generous, even kind, underneath it all; in fact, he is so deliberately considerate that it can be unnerving, because he anticipates others' needs before they even realize them themselves." She shakes her head. "But… his kindness is buried deep, masked by an exterior of cold practicality and mercilessness. He does not like people to know that he cares about them. He is not easily accessible, or readily understood. The position of Commander requires transparency—something that Blade sorely lacks. It makes the public uneasy; it makes them mistrust him and the Order, no matter his true intentions." "So you think he has flaws as a leader," you say. "I think that Haven was not ready for someone like him," she answers calmly. "If the Autarchy was going to choose someone to have control of an army of Diminished, a feared assassin shrouded in rumor was not a very wise choice." <<include "tallystalk">>

She laughs. "Trouble is the exact opposite of the Commander," she says. "He's a man of the people, through and through, and he sets the Norm public at ease. No, not just the Norms—<i>everyone</i> trusts an honest face like his, unable to conceal what he's feeling or thinking. And he's kind, and warm, and unpretentious— rough in a way that makes people love him. You can see in his eyes that he's the sort of person who would walk between a speeding wagon and a puppy without a second thought." Then she frowns. "But he's too impulsive—too controlled by his own emotions, his temper. He reacts on gut instinct and his sense of justice, always. He doesn't really think things through." She shakes her head. "While the Commander's downfall with the public lies in his dispassion, his deliberateness—it's also his strength as a leader, because it lends him the clarity to make decisions regarding the bigger picture. The public hates him for it, but it keeps the Shepherds alive. They would love Trouble… but he would end up destroying us all." "Do you think <i>you</i> should have been made Vice Commander, then?" you ask. "Or even—Commander?" Tallys smiles a little. "I am grateful not to have been made Commander," she answers. "The Commander has to meet with other agents of the Autarchy face-to-face—and even, occasionally, report to the Autarch herself. I am spared the… honor. And as for the position of Vice Commander…" She shrugs lightly, but you can't read her expression. "I trust Blade's decisions. And, now, yours." <<include "tallystalk">>

"A sweet girl," Tallys comments, "who works very hard. We are lucky to have her, though getting her to believe so is quite the task. She has skills that I did not expect would prove vital to maintaining an order. Normally one only thinks about the combat aspect, or getting someone who can heal, or a cook you can trust not to poison you. But who is the person who can procure all of these things, and more? Shery. And it is an often thankless task. At least some people recognize Blade, or Trouble, or even you and me in the street; at least some of those even stop to thank us. Shery provides just as much of a backbone as any of us, but receives none of the reward or recognition." She pauses for a moment, thinking on it. "She is braver and stronger than she thinks, I think. But I pity the soul who has to coax it out of her when she's so bent on believing the opposite. Life is easier, it seems, when no one expects much of you—not even yourself." <<include "tallystalk">>

"And me?" you ask. "What do you think about me?" <<nobr>><<if (($tallys > 35) and ($tallysromanceflag >= 5))>> Tallys turns to look deep into your eyes for a moment. Somehow, without either of you noticing, her smallest finger has come to rest lightly against yours. You can feel the warmth of her brimming against your side. For one breathless beat you stare into each other's eyes, hardly moving, not even to blink. Then, in answer… she leans forward and brushes her lips lightly against yours. It's only the barest touch of warmth, a tingle against your lips, a delicate promise of more. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $attractedto is not "men">><<link '<div class="flirt-item">Kiss her back.</div>' 'tallyskissback'>><<set $tallysromanceflag += 5>><<set $numberofromances += 1>><<settallys +5>><<set $tallysstatus to "There's a clear attraction between you.">><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="brokenheart-item">Pull away.</div>' 'autogenerated_69041'>><<set $tallysromanceflag to 0>><<set $tallysstatus to "You rejected her advances.">><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <<else>> Tallys regards you thoughtfully. "I like you," she says simply, perfunctorily. "You are still somewhat of a mystery to me—I feel as if you have some role to play, some trait that I'm not aware of yet—but I enjoy getting to know you. You're a good friend. And I think that you will be invaluable to our Order and perhaps even to Haven itself." <br><br> You raise your eyebrows. "Powerful words," you say, feeling a little flattered; Tallys's regard seems hard to earn. <br><br> "I wouldn't say them if I didn't mean them," the Elf tells you, smiling. <<include "tallyslikeyou">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Tallys does not seem overly perturbed or embarrassed by your rejection. She only draws back and says, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I thought—" Then she sees something in your face and breaks off. You look away and clear your throat. "I felt drawn to you," she says, after an awkward moment. "I thought you might feel the same way, and acted on that idea. I'm sorry. I wouldn't have done it if I didn't sincerely think you… reciprocated." <<include 'tallysrejection'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm sorry, too. I just don't think of you that way."</div>' 'autogenerated_69042'>><<settallys -3>><</link>> <<if $attractedto is not "women">><<link '<div class="choice-item">"It's just that I'm not attracted to women."</div>' 'autogenerated_69043'>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($aro is true or $ace is true or $aroace is true)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm sorry, too. I'm just not interested in... any of that. With anyone."</div>' 'autogenerated_69044'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Say nothing.</div>' 'autogenerated_69045'>><<settallys -5>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Tallys nods slowly. "Of course. I understand." After a moment she rises and gathers her things. "Let us remain friends, then. I won't speak of this again, or do anything to make you feel—anything other than camaraderie. Again… I'm sorry." "It's fine," you hear yourself saying. Soon enough you've packed up all your things and are on the road back to the city. After a while you're able to make conversation again, pretending as if nothing happened. Neither of you speak of the kiss—or of making liniment—again. <<include 'tallysover'>>

Tallys's look clears. "Of course," she says. "I understand. I'm sorry that I didn't think to ask first. I'm very sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable. I… misread the situation." You shake your head, but can't think of anything more eloquent to say. After a moment she rises and gathers her things. "Let us remain friends, then. I won't speak of this again, or do anything to make you feel—anything other than camaraderie." "Of course," you hear yourself saying. Soon enough you've packed up all your things and are on the road back to the city. After a while conversation picks up between the two of you, just as before, but neither of you speak of the kiss or of making liniment again. <<include 'tallysover'>>

Tallys's look clears. "Of course. I understand. I'm sorry—I should have considered that, or asked. I'm very sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable. I… misread the situation." After a moment she rises and gathers her things. "Let us remain friends, if you're willing. I won't speak of this again, or do anything to make you feel—anything other than camaraderie. I'll never impose anything on you again, if you can find it in your heart to forgive me." "Of course," you hear yourself saying. "You didn't know." Soon enough you've packed up all your things and are on the road back to the city. After a while conversation picks up between the two of you, just as before, but neither of you speak of the kiss or of making liniment again. <<include 'tallysover'>>

Tallys looks away after a pained moment. "Let's just forget about this, then," she says coolly. "I apologize. I deeply, sincerely apologize. I never meant to make you feel uncomfortable. I thought you wanted—no. I'm sorry that I misread the situation." Still, you say nothing. After another moment she says stiffly, "Shall we go?" "Yes," you hear yourself saying. Soon enough you've packed up all your things and are on the road back to the city. Silence hangs between the two of you like oil on water, sloshing uncomfortably. Neither of you speak of the kiss or of making liniment again. <<include 'tallysover'>>

Kissing Tallys makes you think of basil and mint, and cool running water under dappled shadows. In no time at all you find that the two of you are lying together in the long grass, arms wound languidly around each other, lazy bees and leaves drifting overhead. Tallys is skilled at much more than shooting a bow, you realize. With your eager consent, her hands slip deftly under your clothes. Her fingers explore the planes of your stomach, lightly counting each rib… you taste the bold dart of her tongue against yours and shiver pleasantly. Finally Tallys breaks away, just enough to breathe against your lips: "Do you…?" From her swollen lips and half-lidded, darkened eyes, it's clear what she's asking you. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="flirt-item">Sleep with her.</div>' 'autogenerated_69046'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">No... you're not interested in sex right now. Let's just keep kissing.</div>' 'autogenerated_69047'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Tallys laughs a little throatily as the two of you are borne together down to the warm ground. "<<c firstname>>…" she whispers. Everything else becomes lost in a tangle of senses and dizzying pleasure. Concealed by the curtain of the tree, Tallys takes her time with you, her tongue tracing each secret plane of your body lightly until you're gasping and twitching with impatience, fascinated by the way her lithe body and the delicate angles of her collarbones and hips are in turn shadowed and highlighted by dappled sunlight. Being with her is all languid motion, rolling, luxuriant stretches and arches of gratification—punctuating by starbursts of ecstasy so sharp you're left breathless and boneless in their aftermath. Under Tallys's expert ministrations, pleasure rises up to subsume you in a white wash, like waves crashing against the shore, again and again... <<include 'tallysafterwards'>>

Tallys smiles slightly and bends to kiss you again. <<include 'tallysafterwards'>>

You spend a few pleasant hours together under that tree, hidden from the world and oblivious to anything else beyond your shaded spot. <<page_break "<i>Some time later...</i>" "tallysafterwards2">>

Afterwards, the two of you finally break away from each other, pleasantly warm and tingling. Tallys sits up and smooths her short hair back behind her ears. Only her quick breath and bright eyes indicate that anything has transpired. Watching her from the ground, you say, half in a daze: "Why did you kiss me?" Tallys smiles at you from over her shoulder. "Why does anyone kiss anyone?" she asks. "I find your form attractive; it seems you find mine the same. Let us leave it at that." She's as perfunctory and unembarrassed as ever, even as she adjusts her clothes. You say, "And it doesn't matter that I'm <<nobr>><<if $rank is "Officer">><<else>>a<</if>><</nobr>> <<print $rank.toLowerCase()>> and you're—third-in-command?" "That rank means almost nothing," Tallys says with a little laugh. "Only that I will lead if Trouble and Blade both happen to die. Until then, I'm just another Shepherd, just like you." She leans over and kisses you again. "This will just be a pleasant pastime," she tells you. "No complications, no frills. I hope that you can understand: our lives allow for no more." You have to think on what means. Stolen kisses, secret glances, afternoons spent sneaking off together—is that what you want? <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="flirt-item">You're fine with no commitment. This is just an arrangement between friends.</div>' 'tallysarrangement'>><<setloyal -3>><<set $tallyssex to true>><<set $tallysstatus to "You're in a sexual relationship with her, no strings attached.">><</link>> <<link '<div class="flirt-item">You're fine with it for now, but you hope for more down the road... You think you <i>like</i> Tallys.</div>' 'tallyshopingformore'>><<setloyal +1>><<set $tallysromanceflag += 2>><<set $tallyssex to true>><<set $tallysstatus to "You've become lovers.">><</link>> <<link '<div class="brokenheart-item">No. You'd better end this now.</div>' 'noletsendittallys'>><<set $numberofromances -= 1>><<settallys -5>><<set $tallysromanceflag to 0>><<set $tallysstatus to "You had the chance to become clandestine lovers, but ended things before they could go any further.">><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"Agreed," you tell her. "I like the idea of uncomplicated… pastimes." Tallys smiles, clearly pleased. "Good," she says, standing up and stretching. "Then we are in agreement. Let us keep it simple." Then she looks up at the sky and tilts her head, biting her lip in an unconsciously-sultry way that feels unfair. "The day is getting on. We should get back; I'll make the liniment later tonight." Then she turns back to you with a mischievous glint under her eyelashes. "Perhaps you will need help applying it?" You can't help but grin back. You feel flush all over with eager warmth—and happiness. The farthest thing from pained, which is what a liniment is for. But you say, "I think I'll start getting sore around midnight." Tallys laughs: the sound is high and clear as a bell. "Midnight it is, then," she says, the look in her eyes bright with a youthful, playful slyness. "I will see you then." <<include "tallysover">>

She frowns for the first time since you left Haven together. "I'm sorry," she says quietly. "But I do not believe I can give more. There's…" She takes a breath, then composes herself. "It would be too complicated. It's not what I'm looking for. Can you still accept that?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="flirt-item">"Yes." Although it's not exactly what you want, at least she's upfront about it.</div>' 'autogenerated_69048'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="brokenheart-item">"No, I don't think this should continue."</div>' 'noletsendittallys'>><<set $numberofromances -= 1>><<settallys -3>><<set $tallysromanceflag to 0>><<set $tallysstatus to "You had the chance to become clandestine lovers, but ended things before they could go any further.">><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Tallys smiles, though her eyes are a bit watchful as she seems to gauge whether you're being completely honest. Your expression must convince her, though, because she stands and stretches languidly, as if satisfied. However, though her demeanor remains pleasant, you wonder if her eyes seem a little troubled. The Elf glances up at the sky and announces, "The day is getting on. We should get back. I'll make the liniment later tonight." She glances down at you inquiringly. "Perhaps you will need help applying it?" Emotionally, it doesn't seem as if Tallys is looking for an official relationship with you—at least for now. And you can't deny that the notion makes your heart sting, just a little. But you can content yourself with a physical relationship, and there will be time for her to get to know you better, perhaps to lower the walls she's built around her heart over the long years. But even if that doesn't happen, you decide that this—whatever this is—will be worth it. You'll just have to steel yourself against heartbreak down the road… which is perhaps exactly what Tallys is doing by holding you at arm's length in the first place. And that's something to chew on for later. You shrug and stand up. "Liniment sounds like it would help. I may be sore later tonight," you tell her, smirking. "We'll see." Tallys meets your eyes and smiles again, apparently satisfied by your answer. "That will do," she says, echoing your thoughts. A mischievous, rather hungry glint enters her eyes. "At least for now." <<include 'tallysover'>>

The afterglow of your heady afternoon starts to fade. You hadn't realized you were signing up for a casual dalliance; now you're having second thoughts. You tell Tallys so and her face closes up like the walls of a fortress. But she doesn't seem angry or sad. Just slightly disappointed. "I understand," she says. "Our wants don't align, then. I do not believe I am capable of giving any more than this." "But why?" you ask her. "Because of me?" Tallys shakes her head. "My answer would be the same for anyone," she says. "Though I like you more than anyone at the present moment. But being Shepherds—it means death at any moment, for either of us. Beyond that, pain and grief. I have had enough of that in my lifetime." She pauses. "Something to also consider is the fact that, even if neither of us are killed—you will die far sooner than I will." "Other people have dealt with that before," you tell her. Although such relationships are rare, Elves have successfully coupled with non-Elves in the past. But Tallys doesn't seem interested in pursuing this admittedly painful path. "I am not other people," she says, suddenly very grave. A silence hangs between you for a moment, loaded with meaning. Then she stands up and stretches, feigning nonchalance. "Well—it was an enjoyable afternoon, at least. I'll cherish that. As for everything else—let us remain friends. Colleagues." "…Agreed," you say, clearing your throat. You're clearly not going to change her mind, and you're not interested in forcing anybody into anything, either. The two of you silently gather your things and head back up to Haven. The journey back is gray and chilly; the sun has disappeared behind sudden clouds. <<include "tallysover">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I like you, too."</div>' 'autogenerated_69049'>><<settallys +5>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Say nothing.</div>' 'autogenerated_69050'>><<settallys -5>><<setcharisma -5>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setloyal -5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I can't say the same of you."</div>' 'autogenerated_69051'>><<settallys -30>><<set $tallysromanceflag to 0>><<setcompassionate -10>><<setcharisma -10>><<setloyal -10>><<setcourage +3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"I'm glad to have met you," you add. "Good," Tallys says with a laugh. "We feel the same, then. I would have been disappointed if you'd said otherwise. Even with how old I am, I hardly ever encounter people I actually <i>like</i>." <<include 'tallysending'>>

Tallys clearly notices your silence, but doesn't comment on it. She merely looks off towards the river for a moment as an awkward silence descends between you. <<include 'tallysending'>>

Tallys's smile vanishes. "That's unfortunate," she says. "I admit I can be hard to get close to—perhaps it's my fault." <<include 'tallysending'>>

Then she rises and brushes off the seat of her pants, feigning briskness. "Come; the day is getting on. I'll make the liniment tonight and give it to you in the morning." "In all your years, have you ever found a way to make training <i>not</i> hurt like Hael the next day?" you ask her as you gather your things to go. Tallys laughs: the sound is high and clear as a bell. "I've lived a long time, <<c firstname>>," she says, "but not <i>that</i> long. That is one secret I have yet to uncover." <<include "tallysover">>

<<nobr>><<settallys +5>><<if $needelvish is false>><<set $needelvish to true>><<notify_codex_culture "Elvish Honorifics">><</if>> You're unable to locate Tallys anywhere in the compound, but <<if $tallyssex is true>> investigating her room leads you to find a note on her desk, presumably left for you in case you decided to stop by. The note directs you to come visit her at an Elven teahouse not too far away. She's mentioned the place to you before, as an establishment she often frequents in order to relax, while away the hours, and generally socialize with other Elven members of the community. So, curious to see where your lover likes to spend her off-time, you decide to follow her invitation. <<else>> asking around leads Shery to inform you that she's gone to spend her afternoon at an Elven teahouse not too far away. "I'm sure she'd welcome your company," the quartermaster adds helpfully. "That's often where she goes to while away the hours and relax, and she doesn't make it a secret. I've gone there to have tea with her myself."<</if>><</nobr>> The teahouse in question isn't hard to find: amid the intricate, arabesque architecture of Haven's white towers and the newer stone-and-brick tenement buildings of Ashtown, the light and airy wooden structure with its elegant curved rooftop, upturned eaves, and pleasing lines in the Shyrduin style certainly stands out. A dark green cloth rather than a traditional door covers the entrance, and ducking inside, you're instantly transported to another realm. The ceiling of this place is at least three stories high, its papered windows and skylights admitting a soft, diffuse light that seems at odds with the glassy, hard sun you've come to associate Haven with. An artfully-constructed rock sculpture allows an indoor fountain to trickle soothingly into a bed of moss and ferns that seems to grow right out of the warm wooden floorboards. The air smells wondrous, a mixture of delicate white tea, jasmine, and sweet pear. Arranged around the teahouse are several low tables, private booths, and corner niches where Elves—many of whom are dressed in shimmering robes, their long hair unbound or thinly-braided—sit and partake in sedate discussion, some playing games of logic or chance while the others watch with patient interest. One man—an artist, you presume—sits nearby and paints the whole scene with a brush dipped in gray-blue ink. The walls are similarly decorated with examples of fine Elven artwork, mostly scrolls depicting legendary figures or illustrating famous lines of poetry. You spot Tallys at her own booth, already deep in conversation with a group of Elves that look to be around her age. She seems to sense your presence instantly, because her head turns toward you before you even take a step from the front entrance. You watch as her composed features warm with pleasure at the sight of you, and her smile is genuine and relaxed as she waves you over to her table. You approach, and instantly the conversation stops as Tallys's companions turn towards you in polite acknowledgment. The young man—at least, he looks to be in his mid-twenties—sitting across from her introduces himself as Kileon Talanion; he has somewhat impish, puckish features, with an upturned nose, black curls, and pretty blue eyes the same shade as the teahouse artist's ink. The woman sitting with him is evidently his cousin, one Linua Erasthusmé, a handsome young woman with a long fall of auburn hair and sleepy, down-turned brown eyes. Two other Elves linger on the outskirts of the conversation, having evidently been keen on listening in, but at your arrival, they bow slightly and drift away. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if ($heritage is "Elf")>><<link '<div class="heritage-item">Bow in the correct manner and greet the group in Elvish. "<i>A star shines on this, the hour of our meeting</i>."</div>' 'tallyself1'>><<settallys +2>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($heritage is not "Elf")>><div class="inactive-item">Bow in the correct manner and greet the group in Elvish. "<i>A star shines on this, the hour of our meeting</i>."</div><</if>> <<if (($charisma >= 30) and ($intelligence >= 30))>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Bow slightly, mimicking what you've observed Tallys doing with strangers. "I'm pleased to meet you."</div>' 'tallyslowbow'>><<settallys +1>><</link>><</if>> <<if (($charisma < 30) or ($intelligence < 30))>><div class="inactive-item">Bow slightly, mimicking what you've observed Tallys doing with strangers. "I'm pleased to meet you."</div><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Nod. "Hello."</div>' 'tallysnod'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Slide into the booth alongside them. "How do you know Tallys?"</div>' 'tallysslide'>><<settallys -5>><<setcharisma -3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Kileon smiles, though he doesn't seem wholly surprised as he glances at your half-pointed ears. "The gods smile, too," he finishes in Elvish. "You speak without an accent: if I had to guess, I'd say you've been speaking our tongue from the cradle." It's not a direct question, as that would be impolite, but in a roundabout way he's asking for your permission to continue the discussion in Elvish. You nod to him. "I have. And by all means, please continue using it. It's always a gift to hear our mother tongue again." Their smiles turn even more approving. "Please, sit with us," Linua says. "Tallys'an has told us much about you." <<include "tallyscontinue3">>

"And I, you," Kileon returns with a smile. His cousin choruses the same. "Please, sit with us. Tallys'an has told us much about you." <<include "tallyscontinue3">>

They all nod to you in return. "Please, sit with us," Kileon says in invitation. "Tallys'an has told us much about you." <<include "tallyscontinue3">>

Beside you, Tallys frowns as if you'd done something offensive—belatedly you remember that Elves consider direct questions like that one to be rude and abrasive—but to their credit, neither Kileon nor Linua show any signs of perturbation. "We became friends when we first moved to the city," Kileon answers smoothly. From his manner, you'd guess he's well-accustomed to dealing with non-Elves, unlike some of the old-fashioned sticklers you've encountered before. "We struck up conversation in this very teahouse, in fact. That must have been…" "Oh, perhaps fifty years ago," Linua says lightly. "Though we don't meet up very often, these days. Still, Tallys'an has told us much about you." <<include "tallyscontinue3">>

You glance over at Tallys and raise your brows; she only smiles and slides you one of the teahouse's menus, which is hand-burned onto a wooden slate. "Good things, I hope." Tallys only gifts you another secretive, playful smile, while Linua says mischievously, "Perhaps we can tell you… once you help us persuade her over to our cause." At this, Tallys sighs heavily, the smile dropping as she shakes her head in weary exasperation. "I am sorry, <<c firstname>>," she murmurs to you, pressing your forearm in perfunctory greeting as she shifts to make room for you. "These two, Kileon especially, seem intent on converting me to their enterprise…" "Their enterprise?" You glance from face to face; there doesn't seem to be any outright tension in the air here, but they did seem seriously invested in their conversation when you first walked in. Tallys merely shakes her head again, while Kileon puts in: "To put it concisely, I serve as Keeper of my clan, the House of Talanion. Only a few of our clan-members remain, perhaps a dozen, which makes my position all the more essential. A Keeper, as I'm sure you know, is the record-keeper for a clan, a kind of advisor for its leaders and the guardian of its histories, wisdoms, and memories. A kind of living library, housing knowledge of everything the clan has been through throughout the millennia." He pauses. "Tallys'an, too, was the Keeper for her clan. As was Linua for Clan Erasthusmé." His cousin nods, and their faces look graver now. You listen as Linua continues, "When the war came"—and she can only mean the Castigation—"most of our records were destroyed, stolen, or burned. We Keepers were trained to commit many of those annals to memory—that way we could draw upon that knowledge in order to advise our Speakers and provide ready answers in times of crisis—but that also means we are the last repositories of our clans' histories. If anything happens to us, well…" She trails off and looks meaningfully at Tallys. "That knowledge would truly be lost forever." "But nothing <i>has</i> happened," Tallys says, her voice taut. She doesn't seem to be upset by the topic, necessarily, or with her friends for pressing the issue, but it doesn't seem like something she wants to dwell on, either. "Just because I am a Shepherd, it doesn't mean that I am in danger of dying anytime soon." "But why take the chance, Tallys'an?" Kileon asks then, his voice frustrated, though somehow still polite. You notice that, between each other, they don't seem to abide by the common etiquette of not asking direct questions. They may have verbally agreed to set that protocol aside prior to your arrival, though. "If you are injured, or killed in the line of duty, all of House Ironwood's legacy dies with you. I don't mean to say it so harshly, but that's the truth. I know your written records burned during that terrible night, but if you were to recreate what you can remember, have some physical copy somewhere…" "But that's not what you're proposing, Kileon," Tallys cuts in then, a thin layer of something like disgust now threading through her voice. "That would be one thing. But you are proposing publishing a <i>book</i>…" Linua turns to you then, her face suddenly eager, her sleepy eyes oddly hungry and passionate. "In our clan-days, there were no printing presses," she explains. "Everything was written, transcribed, and copied by hand. But I work for a printer now, and Kileon'ath plans to use our press to recreate not just a single copy of what was lost, but <i>hundreds</i>. Why not distribute or even sell a book of Elvish history and wisdom? There would be a demand for it, and this way it would ensure that even if something were to happen to him, or to his few personal copies, the stories would never <i>really</i> die: they would live on in the hearts of those who read and studied them." She lifts her chin when Tallys shakes her head and mutters something dark under her breath. "I plan to do the same with my clan's stories, though I remember less than Tallys'an or my cousin. I was younger and newer in my apprenticeship at the time." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You can't conceal your shock. "But aren't your clan's records... private? Is it really okay to share something like that with the whole world?"</div>' 'tallysshock'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You can't conceal your enthusiasm. "I think that's an amazing idea!"</div>' 'tallysenthusiasm'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You glance at Tallys. "But Tallys is against this idea."</div>' 'tallysagainst'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if (($heritage is "Elf") or ($intelligence >= 60))>> From what you know, a Keeper's archives can contain everything from the personal journal entries of deceased clan-members who recorded their experiences in the past to detailed family trees. Not to mention sacred rituals, trade secrets, ancient rites… <<else>> From what you've gleaned from Tallys's attitude, a Keeper's archives seemed to hold intensely personal information.<</if>> "Yes, well, perhaps the commercial copies would need to be edited, especially for brevity," Kileon concedes, though he sounds a bit miffed. "But no one would object to most things we could share… recipes, medicinal remedies and folktales…" "You do <<c firstname>> a disservice by misleading $them," Tallys says then, sharply. "You act as if I am the only one being unreasonable, but you haven't said that your clan elders do not support you in this venture."<</nobr>> <<include "tallysbrowbeat">>

"We are glad that you agree," Linua returns eagerly. "The commercial copies would need to be edited for brevity, of course, but the things we could share—recipes, medicinal remedies, folktales—don't you think they'd be far better off being shared rather than left to dwindle with our clans?" "You do <<c firstname>> a disservice by misleading $them," Tallys says then, sharply. "You act as if I am the only one being unreasonable, but you haven't said that your clan elders do not support you in this venture." <<include "tallysbrowbeat">>

"I am," Tallys says coldly, her eyes trained on her friends across the table. "They make it sound very fine and easy, <<c firstname>>, but they neglect to mention that their clan elders disapprove heavily of this idea." <<include "tallysbrowbeat">>

"But <i>I</i> am Keeper, not they, and it is my duty to preserve the histories," Kileon returns. "This is the best way I can achieve that aim. And, Tallys'an, whatever <i>our</i> elders may think of us, <i>you</i> are not beholden to the same strictures. There is nothing to prevent <i>you</i> from ensuring the memories of your house extend indefinitely into the future." At this, Tallys actually winces; it's an unusual movement for someone generally so unfazed and collected. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"All right, that's enough. I understand you're passionate about this subject, but you're being insensitive."</div>' 'tallyswhybrowbeat1'>><<settallys +5>><<setcourage +1>><<setcharisma +1>><<set $tallysstatus to "You came to her defense with her friends.">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"She already said no. What is the point of brow-beating her further?"</div>' 'whybrowbeat'>><<settallys +3>><<set $tallysromanceflag += 1>><<set $tallysstatus to "You came to her defense with her friends.">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Tallys? Are you all right?"</div>' 'tallyswhybrowbeat3'>><<settallys +1>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"What's the real reason for your objections, Tallys?"</div>' 'tallysfinalreason'>><<setintelligence +1>><<set $tallysromanceflag -= 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Say nothing.</div>' 'tallysfinalreason'>><<settallys -3>><<set $tallysromanceflag -= 3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $tallyssex is true or $tallysromanceflag gte 5>><<set $tallysromanceflag += 2>><</if>><</nobr>>Tallys's elders all <i>died</i>, after all, and you find it cruel that Kileon would act as if that were some kind of boon. <<include "whybrowbeat">>

Tallys glances at you sidelong and tips her head; it's not quite a smile, but it's an acknowledgment and a reassurance. "I am perfectly fine," she murmurs. "Simply unconvinced." Kileon shakes his head, his gaze still direct and unflinching. "I am sorry," he says, not looking away from Tallys, his voice steady. "I wish I could offer gentler or sweeter words. But I consider this my duty—my life's purpose. I cannot stand by while Tallys'an neglects hers." Linua actually hisses at him. "Kileon'ath! That's enough!" <<include "tallysfinalreason">>

Instantly, Linua's face falls as she shifts her hands back from the tabletop, shrinking back in her seat, while Kileon tilts his head in assent, his gaze still direct and unflinching. "I am sorry," he says, not looking away from Tallys, who gazes down at the earthenware teacup cradled between her palms. "I wish I could offer gentler or sweeter words. But I consider this my duty—my life's purpose. I cannot stand by while Tallys'an neglects hers." Linua actually hisses at him. "Kileon'ath! That's enough!" <<include "tallysfinalreason">>

"I expect that you would only press the issue further if I said that the effort was simply too painful—too raw—for me to attempt," Tallys says, her voice even and cool. "You would offer to help me, or you would encourage me to press on despite the grief, for the sake of my clan. You would paint this as a way of honoring them." She shakes her head. "But this isn't about any of that. The truth, Kileon Talanion, is that I fundamentally disagree with your premise of <i>publishing</i> our ancestors' sacred wisdoms. Those were secrets entrusted to <i>us</i>, to <i>our</i> clans alone. To share them with the rest of the world would cheapen them. The people who slaughtered our families do not deserve to benefit from their knowledge after murdering them—let alone for the price of a secondhand novel." There's a long, shocked silence at that. Somewhere in the corner of a teahouse, someone begins to pluck at a delicate Elven harp, in what is possibly the worst timing possible. A group of Elves in the corner exclaim and murmur over someone's move in a game of <i>sui</i>. Linua and Kileon gaze at Tallys with naked incredulity… and something like doubt, or shame, or pity. After a drawn-out moment, Linua murmurs, "You truly believe that, Tallys'an?" Her voice is small and subdued. Tallys tilts her head; it's clear to you now, even through the opaque mannerisms of the Elves, that these two consider her their senior, a kind of older sister or mentor. "I do," she says heavily, but without rancor. "Which is why I am not the person you should be campaigning to join your venture. I don't begrudge you for it. But even if Ironwood's secrets die with me, at least they will die unsullied." There isn't much for them to say after that. After an awkward few moments, the cousins finally seem to give up their crusade and choose to withdraw, murmuring parting words to you and Tallys before exiting the teahouse. <<nobr>><<if $heritage is not "Elf">> You remain quiet, too, recalling the similar conversation you had about this the last time you spent some off-time with Tallys. So far, she's proved nothing if not consistent in her beliefs. <</if>><</nobr>> Moments later, possibly one of the most beautiful men you've ever seen—a chiseled Elf who looks as if he's an epic marble statue come to life—glides over to your table and politely inquires as to whether you would like some tea. A bit thrown off by the timing again, you glance down at your menu, which is written in both Common and Elvish. <<nobr>><<if $intelligence >= 50>> From your extensive knowledge, you're able to quickly piece together that the simplest flavor profiles are listed at the top, while the most sophisticated and complicated blends lie at the bottom. <</if>><</nobr>> <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'll have the dandelion and mint tea."</div>' 'tallystea'>><<setcourage +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'll have the ginger and apple tea."</div>' 'tallystea'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'll have the blackberry and honey tea."</div>' 'tallystea'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'll have the elderflower and vanilla tea."</div>' 'tallystea'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'll have the rosehip and bergamot tea."</div>' 'tallystea'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'll have the spearmint and wild sage tea."</div>' 'tallystea'>><<setintelligence +1>><<settallys +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'll have the fennel seed and rosemary tea."</div>' 'tallystea'>><<setcunning +1>><<settallys +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'll have the lemongrass and valerian tea."</div>' 'tallystea'>><<setstrength +1>><<settallys +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'll have the blue mallow and marigold tea."</div>' 'tallystea'>><<setmagic +1>><<settallys +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'll have the cornflower, apricot, and rice flour tea."</div>' 'tallystea'>><<settallys +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Nothing for me, thanks."</div>' 'tallystea'>><<settallys -3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

After a few more moments of shuffling around and getting everything situated, you and Tallys finally turn to each other and simultaneously loose a wordless breath. Instantly, she cracks a smile at your shared reaction. "I am sorry that you walked into that," she states, taking a small sip at her own tea, something green and grassy-smelling. "I promise, they are not usually so… insistent." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"That Kileon seems like a real asshole. If he'd talked about my family that way, I'd have punched his lights out."</div>' 'tallyskileoncriticism'>><<setcompassionate -3>><<setcharisma -1>><<setcourage +1>><<settallys -3>><<setloyal -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"They were being really pushy. I'm shocked they didn't accept your answer the first time."</div>' 'tallyspushy'>><<settallys +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"It was an interesting discussion to witness, at least."</div>' 'tallyskileonbored'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm glad I was here, if only to rescue you."</div>' 'tallysrescue'>><<settallys +1>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setloyal +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Yeah, I was not prepared to walk into something like that."</div>' 'tallysunprepared'>><<settallys -1>><<setloyal -1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Tallys's expression doesn't change, but you sense that she's not quite comfortable badmouthing her friend that way. "I understand your strong feelings on the matter," she murmurs. "Of course. But they are young and idealistic. And, I think, a little bored. They have hundreds of years to live, and are seeking some purpose that will give their days more meaning than simply… existing. They can't be Keepers to their clans the way they were in the old days. So they are trying to seek fulfillment in a new role they create for themselves." <<include "tallyscontinue32">>

After all, didn't Kileon and Linua live through the same tragedies Tallys did? Why on earth wouldn't they respect her feelings on the matter? <<include "tallyskileonbored">>

Tallys smiles slightly. "They are young and idealistic. And, I think, a little bored. They have hundreds of years to live, and are seeking some purpose that will give their days more meaning than simply… existing. They can't be Keepers to their clans the way they were in the old days. So they are trying to seek fulfillment in a new role they create for themselves." <<include "tallyscontinue32">>

<<nobr>><<if ($tallyssex is true) or ($tallysromanceflag >= 5)>> <<set $tallysromanceflag += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> Tallys smiles at you, her eyes fond. "I did not think I needed 'rescuing,'" she says amusedly, "but I admit, your arrival was timely. You know how we Elves conduct ourselves. Left unchecked, that discussion could have gone on hours or even days." She shakes her head. "Kileon and Linua are young and idealistic, that's all. And, I think, a little bored. They have hundreds of years to live, and are seeking some purpose that will give their days more meaning than simply… existing. They can't be Keepers to their clans the way they could in the old days. So they are trying to seek fulfillment in a new role they create for themselves." <<include "tallyscontinue32">>

Tallys shakes her head. "I know. Kileon and Linua are young and idealistic. And, I think, a little bored. They have hundreds of years to live, and are seeking some purpose that will give their days more meaning than simply… existing. They can't be Keepers to their clans the way they could in the old days. So they are trying to seek fulfillment in a new role they create for themselves." <<include "tallyscontinue32">>

<<nobr>><<if $tallyssex is true>> Then she slips her hand familiarly into yours, her palm cool and molded perfectly against your own as she laces your fingers together. <<if $tallysromanceflag >= 8>> As always, a light and pleasant tingle begins to buzz under your skin at her touch. <</if>> Within the Shepherd compound, you've been careful not to give sign of your relationship to any of the other officers, but out here, she seems perfectly at ease with showing her affection for you—even in a teahouse filled with her former neighbors and peers. <<else>> Then she takes another sip of her tea. <</if>><</nobr>> "But, come. Let us talk of other things. I am very glad you decided to join me." <<include "tallysteahouse">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if (($tallyssex is true) and not hasVisited("tallyskissfingers"))>><<link '<div class="talk-item">Smile and kiss her fingers. "Me, too."</div>' 'tallyskissfingers'>><<set $tallysromanceflag += 1>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("tallysfindplace")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"How did you find this place, anyway? How long have you been coming here?"</div>' 'tallysfindplace'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("tallysliketea")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"I didn't even know you liked tea."</div>' 'tallysliketea'>><</link>><</if>> <<if (($heritage is "Elf") and not hasVisited("tallysremindshome"))>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"I'm glad I know about this place now. It reminds me of home."</div>' 'tallysremindshome'>><<settallys +3>><</link>><</if>> <<if (($heritage is not "Elf") and not hasVisited("tallysstuff"))>><<link '<div class="talk-item">You glance around. "I'm not really sure why you like coming here. It feels kind of stuffy."</div>' 'tallysstuff'>><<settallys -5>><<setcharisma -5>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Something about the previous conversation with Kileon and Linua is still bothering you. "About before..."</div>' 'tallysaboutbefore'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Tallys smiles back, lazily, before leaning forward to capture your lips in a gentle kiss. <<include "tallysteahouse">>

Tallys shakes her head. "This place was here before I finally ventured into the city," she admits. "In fact, I believe it's been here since shortly after the war. But I only found it when I came to Haven… oh, fifteen, twenty years ago?" You try not to start. From the way Tallys always talks, you were always under the impression that she came to Haven fairly recently, shortly before the establishment of the Shepherds last year. But to hear she's been living in the city for <i>two decades</i>… "Where were you living before you joined the Order? What did you do?" Tallys shrugs, repositioning a small candle before hanging her teapot over it to keep the liquid inside warm. "There is a neighborhood not far from here that is populated almost entirely by Elves. I rented an apartment there for a while, but, truth be told, I never stayed there very long. I was too restless. I worked odd jobs in or around the city: much of the time I helped people on their farmsteads in the Sun's Embrace, those same farmers we visited last time, helping them gather herbs or grow gardens or pitching in with the manual labor they didn't have the time to get to in a single day. Or I helped out in medical clinics, sometimes soup kitchens or orphanages. Mostly I was paid in meals, but I mainly worked in order to have something to do. I had no interest in accruing coin or gold other than what was needed to keep a roof over my head, and after years of traveling alone, I didn't feel like wandering around the Continent as a mercenary and sleeping on the side of the road. But the city life held little appeal for me, too. I found it too noisy, too crowded, too… suffocating. I wanted to be <i>near</i> my own people, if only to soothe the sting of being so utterly alone… but sometimes living too closely to them repelled me as much as it drew me in. It didn't feel… quite right." Her voice is calm as she says it, her face matter-of-fact and serious, but beneath the placid exterior, you sense Tallys's deep sense of conflict and restlessness around this topic. She shakes her head, rueful, and adds, "That is why I don't begrudge Linua or Kileon too deeply for their ambitions. I understand the aimlessness and lack of purpose that they feel, the desperation to fill that void with <i>something</i>. There comes a point, in all that gray emptiness, that even challenge and hardship—like the objections of your elders and friends—becomes exciting, something to overcome rather than a monotonous existence to simply endure." Then she shrugs. "And then I heard about the Shepherds. When I showed up, Blade and Trouble were only just putting together a team to clear out the Tower… and I saw that they needed someone else with a similar level of experience, someone who could help shore up the gaps in their skill sets and strengths… so I decided to go where I was needed. The thought of ensuring that Diminished folk would be benefited and protected by this new Order—that it wouldn't simply be a police force of Diminished fodder who'd be bodily sacrificed for the rich and privileged alone—was one that appealed to me. I finally had the purpose that I had been searching for. I never wanted to be a <i>leader</i>, but…" She smiles faintly. "I am glad to have stepped in and steadied things while they found their sea-legs, so to speak." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I know they're glad you answered the call when you did. We all are."</div>' 'tallysgladanswer'>><<settallys +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You're more than just a stop-gap, you know. You're a permanent fixture with us, not a placeholder or a bridge until we don't need you anymore."</div>' 'tallyspermanent'>><<set $tallysharden += 1>><<settallys +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Do you think you'll stay with the Order forever?"</div>' 'tallysstayforever'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I understand that feeling of restlessness. I felt the same, before I came here."</div>' 'tallysrestless'>><<set $tallysharden -= 1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if (($tallysromanceflag >= 6) and ($tallyssex is true))>> <<set $tallysromanceflag += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> Tallys smiles at you, the expression soft on her face. "Thank you, <<c firstname>>," she says quietly. "I have never felt unappreciated with the Shepherds—usually just the opposite—but you have a special way of making people feel seen nonetheless. It seems to be a gift of yours." <<include "tallysteahouse">>

<<nobr>><<if (($tallysromanceflag >= 6) and ($tallyssex is true))>> <<set $tallysromanceflag += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> Tallys smiles at you suddenly, and it's a look that transforms her face from one of serene, ageless beauty to the warmth of an almost shimmering, effervescent gladness and pleasure. "Thank you," she says, dropping her eyes in a demeanor that almost seems a bit shy. "I… didn't think of it quite that way, but…" She shakes her head, almost wondering. "You have a special way of making people feel seen, <<c firstname>>. It seems to be a gift of yours." <<nobr>><<if (($tallyssex is true) or ($tallys >= 60))>> <br><br> Then she glances up again, eyeing you in turn. "And neither are you, you know. You're more than just a secret weapon, more than an answer to all of our problems. I hope you know that." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "tallysteahouse">>

Tallys watches you for a long moment. <<nobr>><<if ($tallyssex is true) and ($tallysromanceflag >= 10)>> There is, briefly, something heartbreaking in her sea-green eyes. <</if>><</nobr>> Then she dips her head and murmurs, cryptic: "For as long as I am in Haven, yes." <<include "tallysteahouse">>

Tallys tilts her head towards you. "Yes, you wandered all over the Continent after you lost your family, too," she says, blunt but not unkind. "I imagine it's something many of us do before we begin to find ourselves." <<include "tallysteahouse">>

Tallys actually snort-laughs, something you've never heard her do before. "<i>All</i> Elves love tea," she says dryly, "though you would be hard-pressed to find something that they haven't loved so much that they obsessively turned it into its own art form. It's not my personal favorite drink—that would be vytas—but I partake in the art of tea as a hobby, if only to participate in the culture with everyone else. Tea is one of our oldest crafts, artistic pursuits, and pastimes… so if you're ever seeking common ground with other Elves, a teahouse is your safest bet." <<nobr>><<if $heritage is "Elf">> You fuzzily recall some of the adults in your community discussing or making tea, but it was always boring talk to you, something to tune out while you and Zori scurried off to more exciting adventures. <</if>><</nobr>> "Are there any other such gathering places that would be handy to know?" Tallys thinks on that a moment. "Brewing is less popular," she says thoughtfully, "but vytas cafés or wineries would certainly be your next best bet. Dancing, music, poetry, gardening, and art… all of these topics—and any events centered around them—would also be popular choices if you were looking to make more Elven friends." Then she tilts her head curiously at you. "Do <i>you</i> enjoy tea?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You take a thoughtful sip from your cup, relishing the unique taste. "I love it! It's one of my favorite drinks."</div>' 'tallyslovestea'>><<settallys +1>><<setriel +1>><<setshery +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You take a sip from your cup. "I'm neutral towards it, I suppose. It's just another beverage to me."</div>' 'tallysneutraltea'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You take a sip from your cup and grimace. "Not really. It just tastes like hot leaf juice."</div>' 'tallyshatestea'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You take a sip from your cup and shrug. "I just don't <i>get</i> it. It's fine, but I don't see what there is to be so enthusiastic about."</div>' 'tallysdontgettea'>><<settallys -1>><<setintelligence -1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Tallys smiles slightly. "Truly? I had no idea. In that case, we have much to discuss when it comes to the different growing methods and blends. <<nobr>><<if $rieljoin is true>> You're not alone, either: Riel and Shery are similarly avid tea-drinkers. Sometimes we enjoy a cup together on quiet afternoons." <<else>> You're not alone, either: Shery is similarly an avid tea-drinker. Sometimes we enjoy a cup together on quiet afternoons." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "tallysteahouse">>

Tallys nods. "That makes sense. It's not something many people have a burning passion for. Trouble couldn't care less for any of it, for example, though one would argue he's simply replaced the habit with charch." <<include "tallysteahouse">>

Tallys laughs, the sound silvery and bell-like in the sweet tranquility of the teahouse. "I suppose I can't argue against that: it is technically true. But it is an acquired taste. Perhaps if you persist, you'll develop a palate for it." <<include "tallysteahouse">>

Although the sophisticated surroundings and stately mien are a far cry from the rustic, half-wild community that you grew up in—with its nomadic lifestyle and eschewal of year-round permanent buildings—being surrounded by your people again makes your heart feel curiously full. A kind of deep peace settles over your bones, and you feel as if some part of you that you weren't even aware was tensed is now relaxing, easing up and lightening a little. Tallys smiles at you. "I'm glad to hear it. There are many such gathering places in this city, if one knows where to look. I would love to show you more as…" A strange expression flits over her face before it vanishes. "As time goes on." You smile back at her, though she's staring into her teacup now. "I would love that." <<include "tallysteahouse">>

The atmosphere in here feels too formal, suffocating. Although no one is exactly dressed in suits, something about their perfect postures and formal, tranquil way of talking makes you feel scrutinized, hemmed in. Tallys's eyes go half-lidded. "It's certainly different from the rest of Haven," she acknowledges in a drawl. "But if you don't find it to your liking, we can meet elsewhere next time." From the way she glances away from you, though, you're not sure she's even keen on 'next time.' <<include "tallysteahouse">>

Tallys glances at you, her look wary and a bit guarded now. "Yes?" <<include "tallysteahouse2">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("tallysyoungkeepers")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Are all Keepers so young?"</div>' 'tallysyoungkeepers'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>><</if>> <<if (($intelligence >= 50) and not hasVisited("tallystechniques"))>><<link '<div class="question-item">"Could you teach me some of your record-keeping techniques? You must have a wealth of tips on how to memorize and record things in shorthand."</div>' 'tallystechniques'>><<settallys +1>><<setintelligence +3>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I know you're not asking for my opinion. But I do think Kileon and Linua have a point. Are you really willing to let the legacy of your clan die on principle of not sharing it with the undeserving?"</div>' 'tallysdefensive'>><<set $tallysharden += 2>><<settallys -8>><<set $tallysstatus to "You recently challenged her on her views.">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I just wanted to say that I understand and support your point. It feels like sacrilege, to parcel off and sell sacred knowledge that you've been entrusted with. I don't like the thought of it being in a layperson's hands any more than you do."</div>' 'tallyssupport'>><<settallys +5>><<set $tallysharden -= 2>><<set $tallysstatus to "You support her complicated feelings about sharing her culture with others.">><</link>> <<if ($intelligence >= 45)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I think you're both looking at this issue too definitively. There are ways to limit the spread of your book—like publishing only in Elvish—but it's also not a guarantee that your clan's legacy will die out with you."</div>' 'tallyscompromise'>><<settallys +1>><<setintelligence +1>><<set $tallysharden += 1>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($intelligence < 45)>><div class="inactive-item">"I think you're both looking at this issue too definitively. There are ways to limit the spread of your book—like publishing only in Elvish—but it's also not a guarantee that your clan's legacy will die out with you."</div><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I understand why you wouldn't want to re-compile your clan's old records. But if you ever missed being a Keeper... why don't you chronicle the formation of the Shepherds?"</div>' 'tallyschronicle'>><<set $tallysharden += 1>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Although Kileon, Linua, and Tallys all outstrip you by several centuries, you know that among the Elves, they're still considered young adults, and they would have been even younger in the days leading up to the Castigation. You would have thought that a Keeper would be an ancient sage, an advisor who'd lived through much of the clan history they were also guarding. <<nobr>><<if $heritage is "Elf">> The Keeper for your own clan was a very old, severe woman named Earelya who terrified you when you were younger, though looking back you can see that she simply liked to tease the young ones by acting like a wizened crone. <</if>><</nobr>> Tallys sighs. "It's about half and half," she says. "While it would be ideal for clan elders to serve as Keepers, retaining so much knowledge and information—especially as the years go on—takes its toll. A Keeper who has a thousand years of their own personal experiences to remember, let alone the clan's, isn't as efficient as someone who's relatively younger. So Keeper titles are passed on to younger Elves and apprentices more regularly than you would think." Then she looks shrewdly at you. "But that is not all you have to say about the matter, is it?" <<include "tallysteahouse2">>

Tallys glances at you, surprised, before she laughs and says, "But of course: I don't consider <i>that</i> to be a part of our clan secrets. But why would you want to learn such techniques?" You discuss the matter for a significant length of time before she glances at you sidelong and says, "I'll drop off the references I have for you to peruse sometime. But is that <i>really</i> what you wanted to ask?" <<include "tallysteahouse2">>

Instantly, the mood between you shifts into one of hurt, defensiveness, and disappointment. While Tallys doesn't necessarily show those emotions outwardly, you sense the change in the atmosphere all the same, and the look in her eyes as she stares at you is one of distant reproach. "I see," she says, her tone cool. "Well, you are right in that I didn't ask for your thoughts on the matter, but I… suppose I can appreciate you sharing them just the same." She seems to shake whatever she's feeling off, like someone brushing snow off their shoulders before entering a house. "Yes, I <i>would</i> guard our secrets on that principle: the role of a Keeper is to <i>keep</i>, not to share or spread with blithe impunity." She shakes her head. "And more to the point, I don't think it's what my clan would want. If Linua and Kileon's own elders object to the idea, mine surely would, as well. And as the sole guardian of their legacy, it's my duty to honor their wishes as much as it is for Kileon to do what he thinks he must." When you open your mouth, she shakes her head, her face serious now. "The matter is over, <<c firstname>>," she says quietly. "You'll find that there's no changing my mind on this subject." <<include "tallyswaiterover">>

Tallys's guarded expression smooths into one of relief. "I am glad you agree, my friend," she says, her voice warm and approving now. She toasts to you with her cup of tea. "And more to the point, I don't think it's what my clan would want. If Linua and Kileon's own elders object to the idea, mine surely would, as well. As the keeper of their legacy, it's my duty to honor their wishes as much as it is for Kileon to do what he thinks he must. To do otherwise would be a betrayal of their trust in me, honestly." Then she glances away. "It's not a very relevant topic anymore, either. I am Keeper no more: that girl died alongside with my family tonight. I will always be Tallys Ironwood… but I am the clan's sole survivor now, not its archivist. And I took up the mantle of the Shepherds for a reason. Living in that world, preoccupying myself with the concerns and demands of the past… it would have slowly killed me. I need to look forward, not back." The two of you slowly sip your tea together in commiserate silence, then. You're keenly aware that Tallys is never this vulnerable with her true thoughts or feelings with anyone else. Somehow, in this teahouse, you've found that you've come to understand her better than most. <<include "tallyswaiterover">>

<<nobr>><<if (($tallysromanceflag >= 10) and ($tallyssex is true))>> <<set $tallysharden += 1>><</if>><</nobr>> Tallys frowns at you. "What do you mean?" "Well," you point out slowly, "if you have children, and they have children, and so on… the House of Ironwood will continue. And you can teach <i>them</i> what you know, or at least leave a record of it with your descendants. So there isn't necessarily this great urgency to preserve it all in a book to prevent its disappearance, the way Kileon seems to believe." <i>Though it is true that if Tallys is killed in battle, that will be the outcome.</i> "You can still keep and preserve the knowledge within the boundaries of your clan, is what I'm saying. It's not a dichotomy of 'share everything you have with outsiders' or 'let it all disappear' alone." There's a slightly stunned silence as Tallys stares at you; it seems she's never really considered this in detail. Finally she says slowly, "While that is true… I think that simply shifts the pressure from letting Kileon publish a book to… my having children." Right. "Was that even something you were… planning on?" Tallys looks at you, almost helplessly. "It's… not something I would be opposed to," she says, almost thickly. "I… imagine I would enjoy being a parent, of course. If it were to happen organically… of course I would…" Then her face shutters, and she looks away. "But it would have to be with the right partner. I don't know if I could bear to raise a child alone." The implication of it all hits you like a gut-punch then. <i>If she fell in love with a non-Elf, she and the child would outlive them by several centuries.</i> <<include "tallyschildren">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if ($tallyssex is true)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Change the subject. This is very dangerous territory you're wandering into.</div>' 'tallyswaiterover'>><<set $tallysromanceflag -= 10>><<settallys +3>><<set $tallysharden -= 1>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($tallyssex is true)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Squeeze her hand. You're suddenly beginning to understand her reasons for wanting to keep things strictly casual.</div>' 'tallysunderstand'>><<set $tallysromanceflag += 3>><<settallys +1>><<set $tallysharden += 1>><<set $tallysstatus to "You're starting to understand her in very intimate ways.">><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Have you ever come close? To finding the right partner, I mean? Or even tried?"</div>' 'tallyspartner'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I understand your trepidation. It's not an easy thing to contemplate. I wouldn't want to do it, either."</div>' 'tallystrepidation'>><<set $tallysharden -= 2>><<settallys +1>><<set $tallysstatus to "You're starting to understand her in very intimate ways.">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I think true love—even just a moment, a glimpse or a taste of it—is worth it. Even bundled with the pain."</div>' 'tallysworththepain'>><<set $tallysharden += 2>><<set $tallysstatus to "You're starting to understand her in very intimate ways.">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Having children is overrated, anyway. There are a dozen other ways to pass on your legacy, if you even care about things like that."</div>' 'tallysoverrated'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Tallys's unique, not-often-talked-about skillset makes her uniquely and ideally situated to collate people's experiences in the Order, to write about what its earliest days were like, and to decide what a truly accurate historical record about it would contain… Tallys glances at you, surprised. Then she laughs. "Thank you, but no," she says flatly, though a wry amusement plays around the corners of her mouth. "The version of me who was Keeper of House Ironwood died that night. I am no longer that same girl, the one who longed to be a simple chronicler and historian of her people. I am my clan's last survivor, not its archivist. I am… different now. I took up the mantle of the Shepherds in an effort to grow past who I was, not dwell in it." She shakes her head, rueful. <<nobr>><<if $rieljoin is true>> "Besides, someone like Riel or Shery seems more suited to the task." <<else>> "Besides, someone like Shery seems more suited to the task." <</if>><</nobr>> You have no choice but to respect that. Still, you can't help but think that the idea of Tallys taking up her old role in service of a new family—this one—would make some sort of cathartic sense, perhaps bring closure to her story. But that's not for you to decide. "That makes sense. I wasn't pressuring you, only offering an alternative." Tallys pats your arm. "I know. And it was a kind and generous thought." <<include "tallyswaiterover">>

You think you could say something to perhaps change that, to maybe alleviate Tallys's anxieties… but from the look on her face, you get the sense that now is not the best time to attempt that. She wants to be vulnerable with you, not to be argued with or persuaded. At least for now. <<include "tallyswaiterover">>

Tallys gives you a brittle smile. "I have never tried," she admits. "Romance was never on the forefront of my mind—not after what I lost. For a long time I was lost in the fog of grief, and even when I wasn't… well. It just wasn't something I was in the state of mind to seek out, or nourish, or pursue. All of my past relationships have been… dalliances, casual for both parties, and explicitly stated to be so ahead of time." <<nobr>><<if $tallyssex is true>> The rueful glance she gives you is almost sardonic, a secret joke that both of you are now in on. <</if>><</nobr>> Then she sobers and shakes her head. "Besides, the idea of inviting more future loss—more pain—is… too raw for me to consider. Even now, spending time with the Shepherds can sometimes feel too much to bear." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Touch her arm. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize..."</div>' 'tallyssorry'>><<settallys +1>><<set $tallysstatus to "You're starting to understand her in very intimate ways.">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Look away from her pain. "I understand all too well."</div>' 'tallysunderstandpain'>><<settallys +3>><<set $tallysharden -= 1>><<set $tallysstatus to "You're starting to understand her in very intimate ways.">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Blow out a breath. It's a heavy thought. In the best-case scenario, you all will die before Tallys... She will always be the last one standing, unless she dies a violent death first.</div>' 'tallysheavy'>><<settallys -3>><<set $tallysstatus to "You're starting to understand her in very intimate ways.">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Say nothing.</div>' 'tallyssilent'>><<settallys -5>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Tallys shakes her head. "Forgive me," she murmurs. "It's simply melancholy, stirred up by the talk with Kileon. Most days, I think nothing of it—and so you should, too, put it out of your mind." The glance she gives you is almost pleading. "Please." You nod slowly. "Of course." <<include "tallyswaiterover">>

Tallys looks at you, then extends her hand to lightly place it on your shoulder in silent, half-broken camaraderie. <<include "tallyswaiterover">>

Neither scenario must be cheerful to think about. Grimacing as if she'd just swallowed something unpleasant, Tallys looks away and takes another sip of her tea. <<include "tallyswaiterover">>

Tallys glances at you, curious, but if she sees anything of note in your expression, she doesn't say. <<include "tallyswaiterover">>

To commit to an eternity of grief and loss, to <i>knowing</i> you'd be raising a family without your partner or soulmate… You don't think you'd be able to jump into something like that whole-heartedly. It's too daunting of a prospect to contemplate. Tallys nods gravely. "It has been something that has tortured our people since we spread beyond the borders of Thielwood. There's a reason why many people discourage Elves from coupling with partners from other races." <<nobr>><<if $tallyssex is true>> The glance she gives you is significant, if not altogether very comfortable. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "tallyswaiterover">>

<<nobr>><<if $tallyssex is true>> <<set $tallysromanceflag += 5>> <</if>><</nobr>> A muscle in Tallys's cheek twitches. "That is your right, <<c firstname>>," she returns calmly, her eyes stony and unreadable now. "But it's not you who will have to live with the consequences." <<include "tallyswaiterover">>

Tallys glances amusedly at you. "Such as publishing and distributing a compilation of your sacred texts?" "<i>Among other things</i>." She actually laughs. "You're right. But it is something of a comforting thought: the idea that just because I am the last of my clan now, it doesn't mean I will <i>always</i> be." She looks contemplative for a moment, but whatever other thoughts are swirling around in that impenetrable mind of hers, she doesn't say. <<include "tallyswaiterover">>

The waiter comes by again, briskly refilling your individual teapots and swap out the tiny candles that are keeping them warm. Evidently considering the matter over, Tallys smoothly switches the topic to other things, and you follow her lead, proceeding to while away a few hours in a pleasant and soothing fashion. If the tea leaves a bittersweet aftertaste on your tongues… well. You're sure that it was always meant to. <<include "tallysover">>

<<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "dayoff">><<set $tallystime += 1>><</link>>

<<audio ":playing" fadeoverto 5 0>> <<if $troublehate is true>> However, you can't seem to find the sharpshooter anywhere. It seems he's avoiding you... <br><br> <<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "dayoff">><<set $dayoff -= 1>><</link>> <<elseif $troubletime is 0>> <<include "troubleinterlude1">> <<elseif $troubletime is 1>> <<include "troubleinterlude2">> <<elseif $troubletime is 2 and $part < 8>> <<include "troubleinterlude3">> <<elseif $troubletime is 2 and $part >= 8>> Unfortunately, it seems you've missed the opportunity to spend time with this character. <br><br> <<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "dayoff">><<set $dayoff -= 1>><</link>> <<elseif $troubletime is 3>> <<include "troubleinterlude4">> <<elseif $troubletime is 4>> <<include "troubleinterlude5">> <<elseif $troubletime is 5>> <<include "troubleinterlude6">> <<else>> [Sorry, this path is INCOMPLETE. Check back again when an addition is announced!] <br><br> <<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "dayoff">><<set $dayoff -= 1>><</link>> <</if>>

<<settrouble +3>>Initially, you have some trouble finding Trouble: you can't find him anywhere in the confines of the Shepherds' headquarters. It's only when you step outside that you hear a familiar stream of heavy cursing from around the corner. Curious, you step further into the alleyway to investigate. Trouble is standing with his back to you, surveying something on the alley wall. The first thing you notice is that the gunslinger is entirely shirtless, his pale shirt knotted around his waist, his tan back rippling with muscle. He's holding a wet, soapy rag in one hand; drops of water bead and glitter along his arm and shoulder, which are ropy and strong and scarred. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"For God's sake, man, put on some clothes."</div>' 'troubleclothes'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"...What are you doing?"</div>' 'troublewhat'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Whistle. "Now that is a sight to see."</div>' 'troublesight'>><<settrouble +3>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Hi, Trouble."</div>' 'troublehi'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Trouble looks over his shoulder and smirks. "Avert your eyes, if you don't like it," he answers. "'S hot out, and I'm not going to live in discomfort because you're a prude." You shake your head at him. "What are you doing?" <<include "troublemessage">>

Trouble looks over his shoulder and smiles brightly at you. "Hi, <<c firstname>>," he says. "Beautiful day, isn't it?" "I suppose it is." You cock your head at him. "But you didn't answer my question: what are you doing?" <<include "troublemessage">>

Trouble looks over his shoulder and grins. "Nice, right?" he asks nonchalantly. "Show's not free, though: five deucalions for more." "Too rich for my blood," you joke. Then you raise your brow at him. "What are you doing?" <<include "troublemessage">>

Trouble looks over his shoulder and grins at you. "Hey, <<c firstname>>," he says. "Beautiful day, isn't it?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"It is."</div>' 'troublehiyes'>><<settrouble +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"No, not really."</div>' 'troublehino'>><<settrouble -1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

He grins even wider. "Even nicer now that you've come around. What's up?" "I just wanted to see what you were doing." You cock your head at him. "...What <i>are</i> you doing?" <<include "troublemessage">>

Trouble frowns briefly, but doesn't comment on your cynicism. You cock your head at him. "What are you doing?" <<include "troublemessage">>

The sharpshooter's face twists with a sudden unhappiness, but he steps aside to show you what he's been looking at. You can't stop the jolt of shock and revulsion in your stomach when you see it: someone's smeared a message in red paint on the side of the alley wall, on the Shepherds' building. <center><i><b>DEATH TO DIMINISHED TRAITORS!</b></i></center> Trouble seems to avoid your gaze. "Found it a few minutes ago," he says quietly. "No one knows who did it." The hand holding the rag twitches. "And far as I can tell, it's not paint. It's—blood. Maybe a pig's." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Well, that's pleasant."</div>' 'messageunpleasant'>><<setcompassionate -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Why would they call us 'traitors'?"</div>' 'messagetraitors'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Poor pig..."</div>' 'messagepig'>><<setcompassionate +1>><<settrouble +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"How do you know it's an animal's?"</div>' 'messageknow'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Trouble sighs. "Sorry to ruin your day," he says. "I was trying to get rid of it before anyone saw." <<include "messagehide">>

"We risk our lives for them," you say, unable to squelch that bubble of hot indignation in your chest. "We're protecting them. How could they call us traitors?" Trouble sighs. "Can't say I know the mindset of freaks like this," he says, with his own hint of anger. "But my guess is, they think you using your powers is traitorous—blasphemous, even. They're threatened by it. Some even think Blade—a Diminished—cast some magic spell on the Autarch to force her to start the Shepherds." You can't help but laugh bitterly at the thought. "So if we don't use our powers and let everyone die, we're heartless monsters. But if we do use our powers to protect the citizenry, we're traitors?" Trouble grimaces. "Apparently." He sighs and turns back to the bloody message. "Sorry to ruin your day. I was trying to get rid of it before anyone saw." <<include "messagehide">>

Trouble smiles slightly. "I doubt it died for this," he says. "More likely than not, it was excess from a butchery, and someone put it to—malicious use." He looks at you more warmly. "But I don't blame you for being concerned. You've got a good heart, and it's an ugly thought, isn't it?" Then he turns back to the bloody message with a sigh. "Anyway, sorry to ruin your day. I was trying to get rid of it before anyone saw." <<include "messagehide">>

Trouble shrugs. "Spent a lot of time near butcheries as a kid," he says. "I recognize the smell." Then he turns back to the bloody message with a sigh. "Anyway, sorry to ruin your day. I was trying to get rid of it before anyone saw." <<include "messagehide">>

"You were going to hide it?" Trouble looks at the message, then back at you and shrugs. "Well, yeah," he says. "I figure a death threat isn't going to be very good for morale. You can keep a secret, yeah?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Yes, I can. The others don't need to know about this."</div>' 'hideyes'>><<settrouble +3>><<setcunning +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Only because it's you asking." <b>[FLIRT]</b></div>' 'hideyou'>><<settrouble +3>><<setcunning +1>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Actually, I think everyone should know exactly what they're up against."</div>' 'hideno'>><<settrouble -1>><<setcourage +2>><<setcompassionate -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I don't think we should keep secrets in the Order."</div>' 'hidesecrets'>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setloyal +3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Trouble grins at you. "Knew I could trust you, recruit," he says. Then he turns back to the wall and resumes scrubbing off the blood with a wet slap of his rag. "Now to get this muck off before anyone else sees." <<include "hidehelp">>

Trouble doesn't bat an eye; he just nods at you and says, "Knew I could trust you, recruit." Then he turns back to the wall and resumes scrubbing off the blood with a wet slap of his rag. "Now to get this muck off before anyone else sees." <<include "hidehelp">>

Trouble frowns. "I think it'll worsen the relations between the Diminished and the Norms," he says. "Which is the last thing we want. But—you're free to do whatever you want. I'm not going to make it an order." He turns back to the wall and resumes scrubbing off the blood with a wet slap of his rag. "But I'm going to try to get this muck off before anyone else sees." <<include "hidehelp">>

Trouble looks away. "That's a nice thought," he says. "But that's all it is: nice. I'm going for practical—I'm trying not to let this place descend into racial conflict, more hostilities between us and the people we're supposed to protect." He turns back to the wall and resumes scrubbing off the blood with a wet slap of his rag. "I'm going to try to get this muck off before anyone else sees." <<include "hidehelp">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Offer to help him.</div>' 'helpyes'>><<settrouble +3>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Leave him to his work and do something else.</div>' 'helpno'>><<settrouble -3>><<setloyal -5>><<setcompassionate -3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"I'll leave you to your work," you tell him, making your exit. "Good luck, Trouble." The sniper doesn't look back at you as he patiently continues to scrub the wall. "Have a good day off, <<c firstname>>." <<include "troubleover">>

"I'll help you," you tell him, stepping forward and rolling up your sleeves. Trouble glances back at you, surprised. "You'd do that?" Then he shakes his head. "No—I couldn't ask you to. It's your day off, and this isn't your problem." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Shut up and hand me a rag."</div>' 'helprag'>><<setcompassionate -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"If it's the Order's problem, it's my problem."</div>' 'helporder'>><<setloyal +3>><<settrouble +1>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I can spare some time to help you."</div>' 'helpspare'>><<setcompassionate +3>><<settrouble +3>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Should I take off my shirt, too?"</div>' 'helpshirt'>><<setcharisma +3>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I could just use magic and take care of this in a flash."</div>' 'helpmagic'>><<setcourage +3>><<setcunning -1>><<setintelligence -1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Trouble snorts a laugh. "Can't argue with that," he says; he dunks another rag in the bucket of warm, soapy water at his feet and hands it to you. "All right, then. Two rags are better than one. Help me out with this and I'll owe you." <<include "helpwork">>

Trouble's looking at you with frank admiration in his gaze. "I like that," he says with a smile. Then he dunks another rag in the bucket of warm, soapy water at his feet and hands it to you. "All right, then. Two rags are better than one. Help me out with this and I'll owe you." <<include "helpwork">>

Trouble smiles at you warmly. "That's good of you, <<c firstname>>," he says. Then he dunks another rag in the bucket of warm, soapy water at his feet and hands it to you. "All right, then. Two rags are better than one. Help me out with this and I'll owe you." <<include "helpwork">>

For a moment Trouble doesn't seem to register what you said; he blinks for a moment, looking blank, then suddenly chokes in realization. "Well, if you need to," he mutters, turning away quickly to hide his red ears. "Doesn't matter to me." He glances at you sidelong and then away again. "Anyway, er—two rags are better than one, I guess. Help me out with this and I'll...owe you." <<include "helpwork">>

Trouble looks around quickly, then steps closer to you. "Not while we're outside," he mutters, low enough so that only you can hear. "It's not Shepherd work—it wouldn't be legal. It's fine when you're indoors with us, but when there are people around—" He shakes his head. "I won't let you put yourself in danger for something stupid like this." You sigh, resigned—the glow of magic in you fades, as if disappointed not to be used. "All right," you say, throwing up your hands. "The old-fashioned way, then." Trouble smiles and picks up another rag from the warm, soapy bucket of water at his feet. He plops it into his hand and says, "Thanks, <<c firstname>>. Two rags are better than one. Help me out with this and I'll owe you." <<include "helpwork">>

The two of you roll up your sleeves and get to work. <<page_break "Some time later..." "helplater">>

Cleaning up the message on the alley wall is—surprisingly—about as bloody as your other Shepherd work. After a few minutes your hands are stained with red, and the burning sun beats down on your head as you work. Now you see why Trouble took his shirt off in the first place. A half-hour in, Shery comes out into the alley with a tray of iced tea for the two of you—and a bowl of ground meat. "That's not for me," Trouble says wryly at your sideways glance, after she's left. "That's for, uh, Dog. That's a stray dog I see around here every few days. I like to leave food out for him." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I didn't take you for an animal lover."</div>' 'troubledog1'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"That's so sweet!"</div>' 'troubledog2'>><<setcompassionate +1>><<settrouble +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You're wasting food on a stray mutt?"</div>' 'troubledog3'>><<setcompassionate -1>><<settrouble -1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Trouble smiles. <<include "troublestrays">>

Trouble frowns. <<include "troublestrays">>

"I've got a soft spot for strays," he answers, pausing to stretch his arms over his head. A puckered scar over his ribs stretches like a seam. For the first time you notice that he's never removed his signature white gloves: even now, they've become bloody and sodden. "I grew up as one, basically, so I try to look out for others." "Where's your family?" you ask him. "Don't have any," Trouble answers bluntly. "Mum died when I was—I dunno, three? Maybe four? Didn't have any relatives. And she was a laundress, so she didn't have anything to leave behind. I was out on the street before I even knew what was happening." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"What about your father?"</div>' 'troublefather'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"That's awful..."</div>' 'troubleawful'>><<settrouble +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm impressed you survived."</div>' 'troublesurvived'>><<settrouble +3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"Didn't know him," Trouble replies, looking disinterested in the subject. "He never came 'round for me, anyway. No one ever told me his name." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"And you never went looking for him?"</div>' 'troublelookingfather'>><<settrouble -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Nod. It's a common enough story, though a tragic one.</div>' 'troubleorigin'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Trouble looks annoyed. "How could I?" he asks. "I was a penniless, illiterate toddler. How was I to go about searching for a man whose name I didn't know?" He pulls a sour face. "And besides, even if I had the means, I wouldn't want to go seeking out a man like that. Bastard's got no honor, if he left a woman and child behind with nothing. Only excuse would be if he were dead—and he wouldn't be of any use to me then anyway." He pulls out a stick of charch from his back pocket and lights it, blowing a pale blue cloud of smoke over his shoulder. Then he sticks the charch back in his mouth and resumes working. <<include "troubleorigin">>

"I suppose," Trouble says, looking awkward. He scratches the back of his neck and coughs. <<include "troubleorigin">>

Trouble grins briefly. "I'm a resilient little bugger," he declares. "Couldn't keep me down even if you tried." He pulls out a stick of charch and lights it, blowing a pale blue cloud of smoke over his shoulder. Then he sticks the charch back in his mouth and resumes working. <<include "troubleorigin">>

"Anyway, long story short, I managed to survive by joining up with a street gang. This was before the Autarch started the Vice Guard, so the city was chock full of 'em. Gangs, I mean. Groups of rogues and urchins all banding together to pool resources, watching each other's backs. We'd squabble with other gangs over territory and who would get the choicest places to beg." He looks almost nostalgic. "Pretty much all of Haven's orphans got pulled into one group or the other. It's not an uncommon story around these parts." <<include "troubleoriginss">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("troublegang")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"What was the name of your gang?"</div>' 'troublegang'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("troublelivelihood")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"How did you earn a livelihood?"</div>' 'troublelivelihood'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("troubleleave")>><<link '<div class="question-item">"How did you leave the gang?"</div>' 'troubleleave'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You've finally cleaned up the last of the blood.</div>' 'troubleendinterlude1'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

He looks embarrassed. "I'd rather not say. It was a stupid name. I mean, <i>kids</i> thought of it." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Come on..."</div>' 'troublegangmore'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Nod and drop the subject.</div>' 'autogenerated_69052'>><<settrouble +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Trouble gifts you a brief, relieved grin, his broad, tan shoulders flexing as he bends to wring his rag clean in a bucket of water. <<include 'troubleoriginss'>>

<<nobr>><<if $charisma >= 20>> Trouble covers his face. "Please don't make me say it." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item"><i>"Come on..."</i></div>' 'troublegangname'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <<else>> Trouble shakes his head. "No way," he says firmly. "Next question." <<include "troubleoriginss">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $charisma < 25>> "Nice try," Trouble says, shaking his head emphatically. "Next question!" <<include "troubleoriginss">> <<else>> Trouble sighs. "Therasers," he says through grit teeth, around his charch. <br><br> "The what?" <br><br> "<i>The Razors</i>," Trouble says again. He glares at you. "Like I said, dumbass kids thought of it!" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"...Wow."</div>' 'troublegangreact1'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"That's not... horrible!"</div>' 'troublegangreact2'>><<settrouble +1>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <</if>><</nobr>>

Trouble drops his head and sighs. "Let's just not talk about that, please." <<include "troubleoriginss">>

Trouble drops his head and sighs. "Let's just move on, please." <<include "troubleoriginss">>

"Robbing rich noblemen," Trouble says bluntly. "I mean, I started off with pickpocketing and scavenging and all of that when I was a kid. But once I got older and fought my way into a position of leadership, I had to start providing for others, too—not just feed myself. So I robbed a lot of the fat kaqs from up in Whitestone, usually when they came down here for whores, or sometimes when they came through in their carriages." He stops and picks something off of his sleeve. "I challenged a lot of 'em to duels, too. And won, obviously. Some of those hot-blooded young noblemen will never turn down a duel if you know what to say." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"So... you were a criminal."</div>' 'troublecriminal'>><<settrouble -3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"That's pretty resourceful."</div>' 'troubleresourceful'>><<settrouble +1>><<setcunning +2>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Trouble's eyes flash. "So were you," he thrusts back. "I mean, you are a trained Mage and all, right? You've used your magic before this?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Fair point."</div>' 'troublecriminalfair'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"That was different."</div>' 'troublecriminaldiff'>><<settrouble -3>><<setloyal -5>><<setcunning +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Trouble nods. "We were just doing what we had to so we could survive," he says roughly. "It's not as if we were given a choice. Stray dogs." <<include "troubleoriginss">>

"I didn't harm anybody," you argue. Trouble glowers from beneath his brows. "The Autarchy might say different," he points out. <<include "troubleoriginss">>

Trouble chuckles briefly. "Thanks," he says. "Though I'm not necessarily proud of it. I was just doing what I had to so I could survive." He straightens slightly and pats the pistol at his hip. "Anyway, that's how I got so good with a gun. Robbery, gang fights, duels in the street. Desperation. My entire livelihood depended on using it, so once I got my hands on one, I spent all my time learning how to shoot it better than anyone else. They called me Deadeye Alder." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I thought they called you Trouble."</div>' 'troublenickname'>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Has anyone ever managed to outshoot you?"</div>' 'troubleoutshoot'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

He laughs. "That, too. I tend to accumulate a lot of nicknames, don't I?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"What's your actual name?"</div>' 'troublerealname'>><<settrouble +1>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"It's pretty interesting. Will you give me a nickname?"</div>' 'troublegivename'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Trouble smiles at you. "Now <i>that</i>, I won't tell," he tells you firmly. "Ain't my name anymore." <<nobr>><<if $troubleromanceflag gte 2 or $trouble gte 20>> Then he casts you an appraising look. "Maybe someday." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "troubleoriginss">>

<<nobr>><<if $troubleromanceflag >= 3>> <<set $troubleromanceflag += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> Trouble winks at you. "You've got to wait for it, recruit. It'll happen organically." <<include "troubleoriginss">>

Trouble looks away. "Never," he says, somewhat cryptically. "Though I suppose there are reasons for that." <<include "troubleoriginss">>

"I mean, I assume you had to," you say. "Since you're here now." <<nobr>><<if $part is 1>> Quite unexpectedly, Trouble's expression darkens. He looks away and says abruptly, "It doesn't matter. It's in the past." <<include "troubleoriginss">> <<else>> Trouble grimaces. "You know already," he says, wearily. "The Equalists got to me, and... by the time I got out, everything was just... different. Couldn't go back to my old gang. So I took off to find something else to do with myself. Licked my wounds." He shrugs. "You get the picture." <<include "troubleoriginss">> <</if>><</nobr>>

You step back to review your work: the alley wall is as bare (although not much cleaner) as it was before, and only a faint rust-colored stain indicates that anything was ever written there. Trouble claps your shoulder gratefully and says, "We did good work, recruit." Before you can answer, there's a sudden shuffling at the end of the alleyway; you turn, expecting Shery, or maybe even Trouble's dog—but instead you see a wall-eyed Norm woman watching you with a hostile expression on her face. At your glance, she slowly and deliberately turns and walks away. Trouble growls, much like a dog himself. When you look, you see that he has his hand on the pistol at his hip; his fingers, resting on the holster, twitch as if yearning to draw. You cast him a look of... <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">...alarm.</div>' 'troublereactalarm'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">...approval.</div>' 'troublereactapprove'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">...confusion.</div>' 'troublereactconfused'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">...anger.</div>' 'troublereactanger'>><</link>> <<if $attractedto is not "women">><<link '<div class="choice-item">...discreet interest. You're actually still looking at his chest.</div>' 'troublereactinterest'>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 1>><</link>><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

"What are you doing?" you hiss under your breath. "That's a civilian!" <<include "troublereactend">>

"I wish it were that simple," you mutter. <<include "troublereactend">>

"...What are you doing?" you ask, confused. <<include "troublereactend">>

"Take your hand away," you hiss. "Are you going to draw on that woman?" <<include "troublereactend">>

...But eventually you're able to drag your eyes back to his holster. <<include "troublereactend">>

<<nobr>><<set $troublestatus to "You're getting to know him better.">><</nobr>> At your look, Trouble reluctantly allows his hand to fall from his gun. "Sorry," he breathes, reaching down to shrug on his shirt again. "She gave me a bad feeling. Like she's the sort of person to smear blood and hate on our walls..." He casts a sheepish glance at you, sidelong. "My trigger-finger itched." You raise your eyebrows. "Good thing you didn't listen to it." Trouble's legendary quickdraw and inhuman aim make him a dangerous weapon: you can't help but think how the Autarchy would kill to have a man like him in their official ranks. Trouble shatters this image of a deadly weapon by giving you his trademark easy grin. "Not my jurisdiction," he says, a little too breezily. "That'd be some vigilante justice. But I might station someone out here just to keep an eye on things, anyway. Maybe prevent the vandals from coming back." "Aye, aye, Vice-Commander," you answer. Then you can't help but laugh. "Seems like the Shepherds have their own watchdog." He laughs, too, and claps you familiarly again on the shoulder. "Two," Trouble says, his eyes approving. "Thanks again for helping me." Then he winks. "Next time, I promise it'll be more fun. And I'll buy you something stronger than iced tea for your trouble." "I'm not allowed to drink," you remind him as the two of you begin to make your way out of the alleyway. Trouble rolls his eyes. "I'm not really one who's concerned with what's <i>allowed</i> or not, <<c firstname>>," he tells you. "That should be obvious by now—it's kind of in my name." <<include "troubleover">>

<<nobr>><<settrouble +3>> <<set $halfname to $firstname>><</nobr>> You meet Trouble just as he's coming off a patrol, wiping sweat from his brow after time spent under the harsh Haven sun. He grins at you and says, "<<c firstname>>! What's toward?" "I was just thinking I wanted to spend some time with you," you state, sharing his infectious grin. Trouble looks excited. "Time for us to get that drink, wouldn't you say?" You hesitate. By law, Mages are not allowed to imbibe or partake in any mind-altering substance—it can cause your magic to go haywire, since control of your power relies on a Mage's will and strength of mind. Alcohol impedes your ability to keep your magical abilities tamped down, and chaos often breaks loose. You could, however, accompany Trouble to a tavern and simply abstain from drinking… <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Why not? It sounds like a fun time."</div>' 'troublebar1'>><<settrouble +5>><<setcharisma +3>><<setloyal +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"No, thanks... I don't really see the point."</div>' 'troubleover'>><<settrouble -10>><<setcharisma -1>><<setloyal -1>><<setcompassionate -1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<notify_codex_culture "The Drunken Mage">> Trouble takes you to a tavern in Smoketown called The Burning Crown, a respectable-enough looking place with only slightly-grungy tables and windows dingy with smog from the factories. Inside, the dark wood of the counters and the faint smell of charch smoke is oddly soothing, especially compared to the dusty glare of the sun outside. Trouble strides in confidently and flicks a salute to the barmaid in the corner. "Usual for me, Nessa," he says. "And a larkon cordial for my friend." The two of you sit as the barmaid brings over your drinks, smiling. "Haven't seen you around in a while, Trouble," she says, greeting him familiarly. "Who's your good-looking friend?" Trouble grins, answering easily. "A new recruit—<<c firstname>> <<c surname>>. I haven't been in lately 'cause $she<<nobr>><<if $plural is true>>'ve<<else>>'s<</if>><</nobr>> been running me ragged." Nessa raises her eyebrows and turns to you. "That so?" Then her look turns mischievous. "Is that all you are, <<c firstname>>—a new recruit? Trouble doesn't bring just anyone around here." Trouble looks blank, as if he really doesn't know what she's talking about. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm honestly just a recruit."</div>' 'troublebarans1'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"We're friends."</div>' 'troublebarans2'>><<settrouble +3>><</link>> <<if ($troubleromanceflag >= 3) and ($attractedto is not "women")>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"We're... getting there."</div>' 'troublebarans3'>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 1>><</link>><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

"Oh," Nessa says, tilting her head. "If you say so." <<include "troublebarcont">>

"Great friends!" Trouble boasts, grinning. Nessa rolls her eyes. "Uh-huh," she says. "If you say so…" <<include "troublebarcont">>

"Getting where?" Trouble asks, his brow furrowing. You roll your eyes at Nessa, who grins. "Good luck," she sings as she sets down some napkins and a bowl of sugared nuts. Trouble is looking between the two of you with a baffled, suspicious look. "Huh?" She bats his shoulder. "Shut up and treat the nice Mage to a drink." <<include "troublebarcont">>

As she leaves, you turn back to Trouble and notice <<nobr>><<if $trouble >= 50>> that he's staring at you. "You know," he says slowly, "I've just realized, I've been calling you 'recruit,' but you've been with us for a while. Doesn't really seem all that apt, anymore. Do you have something else you like people to call you? Maybe <<print $firstname.charAt(0).toUpperCase()>>, short for <<c firstname>>, something like that?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">In fact, you do like to go by a shortened version of your first name. "My friends call me..."</div>' 'troublenickname1'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"What's wrong with my first name?"</div>' 'troublenickname2'>><<set $halfname to $firstname>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <<else>> how the other patrons nod at him from across the room. "You're popular in these parts," you note. <br><br> <<include "troublepopular">> <</if>><</nobr>>

A shortened version of your first name is <<textbox "$halfname" "">>. <<page_break "Next" "troubleshalfname">>

Trouble grins; a dimple appears on his left cheek. "<<c halfname>>," he says, apparently savoring it. "I like that." <<include "troublenicknamecont">>

Trouble grins, cheeky. "Nothing. I just like using nicknames, that's all. But I like the sound of <<c firstname>>, too." <<include "troublenicknamecont">>

Then he takes a sip of his drink, and you notice how other patrons are tipping their hats or raising their glasses to him from across the room. "You're popular in these parts," you note. <<include "troublepopular">>

Trouble grins and sits back, putting his boots up on another chair. "They give me a free drink every time I come," he answers. "I helped Nessa out of a spot of trouble one time. That's how I met Blade, actually." You're intrigued. "Really?" Trouble nods, looking nostalgic. "Yeah. One night I was in here and I noticed some <i>kisich</i> giving Nessa a hard time: pawing at her, saying all manner of foul things to her. She was obviously upset but couldn't say anything to him—he was a paying customer, and all—but soon enough I'd had it with him and, ah, invited him outside to have some words. He didn't want to come, so I socked him in the mouth." Of course. "You live up to your name," you say, smirking. Then another thought comes to you. "That other customer wasn't Blade, was it?" Trouble barks out a laugh. "No, no. He was sitting on the other end of the bar, having a meal. Me and the other guy got into a little tussle, and eventually Blade got annoyed and threw him out on his arse." He grins. "<i>He</i> says he only did something because all the noise was interrupting his dinner, but truth is, we became friends after that. Everyone thought I was fighting the guy because I was jealous—or Nessa's man, or something—but I just can't abide by others' indecency. Gets my blood boiling. The world's shit enough as it is, and then there's kakheads running around making it worse for fun?" He shakes his head. "Blade is cut from the same cloth, in his own weird-as-kak way, and so we got to trusting each other pretty quick. Men of honor, Tallys calls us. Think she's joking, though." <<page_break "Next" "troublestory2">>

He takes another sip of his drink. "We started swapping news whenever he came into Haven on his travels, and even did a few jobs together. Eventually, when he got made Commander of the Shepherds, he asked me to join up. People were surprised, of course." "Because you were a Norm?" you ask. You also take a sip of your drink: the sweet, sticky cordial slides coolly down your throat. Trouble shrugs. "Yeah. Not a common thing to do; people thought I was mad, that I was going to get killed for, uh…" He glances away and winces. "Well, you know. Ugly talk." Then he shrugs. "That, and they thought I'd hurt the Order's image. Me and my temper. It certainly clashes with Blade's style of leadership, as you can probably guess." Finally he looks back at you, and his golden eyes suddenly look serious, earnest. "I've tried to rein it in ever since I became a, ah, 'public force for good', but… as you saw with the Equalists… it still gets the better of me." <<nobr>><<if $childrendead is true or $tallysequalist is true>> <br><br> He grimaces at the sudden memory and falls into dejected silence at that. <<elseif $childrensafe is true>> <br><br> His mouth twists wryly as he holds up his mug up in a toast to you. "So I just want to thank you for what you did, <<c halfname>>," he says. "If you hadn't talked me down, I don't know what would have happened at that miserable, God-cursed hideout. Nothing good, I imagine. It's thanks to you that those kids are safe, and I didn't make a mistake that I'd regret for the rest of my life." <br><br> With that rather intense toast, he takes a swig and swings his sloshing mug down onto the table with a decisive bang. <</if>><</nobr>> <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Your temper comes from a place of caring. In the end, it's a good thing."</div>' 'troubleans1'>><<settrouble +3>><<set $troubleharden -= 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"We're partners. Sometimes you need me to rein you in, and sometimes I'll need the same of you."</div>' 'troubleans2'>><<settrouble +4>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 1>><<setloyal +1>><<set $troubleharden += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You really do need to control yourself, you know. People could get hurt if you act reckless."</div>' 'troubleans3'>><<settrouble -3>><<set $troubleharden += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Smile and say nothing.</div>' 'troublerival'>><<setloyal -1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Trouble smirks a little. "That's kind of you to say. Others might not agree… but it's kind nonetheless." <<include "troublerival">>

Trouble grins. "That's hard to imagine," he notes, "but you're right—we make a good pair." His tone is light enough, but somehow his gaze sends a line of heat through you. <<include "troublerival">>

Trouble frowns, but he doesn't look away. "You're not the first to tell me something like that," is all he says. <<include "troublerival">>

You spend some time talking about idle things and whiling the day away. You find out that Trouble likes to read adventure and historical novels, and that he spends much of his time tinkering with machines and explosives. He says it's his dream to pilot an airship one day: one of those fantastical mechanisms that they're experimenting on in the west. In turn he asks you about your travels throughout the Continent, a bit of your life growing up. When someone else barges into the Crown, both you and Trouble look up—and you don't miss how his face instantly darkens when he takes in the tavern's new guest. It's a young, wiry Norm man, about Trouble's height, with surprisingly broad shoulders and hands roughened by work in the yards. He has curly red hair and dark, assessing eyes. When he catches sight of Trouble, his whole demeanor shifts; the man smirks and strides over. "Didn't realize this place was a hideout for the Autarch's thugs," he remarks loudly, as if he's addressing the entire room—though it's clear his comments are aimed at Trouble. "What are you doing here, Trubs? Miss your ol' pal Lazu?" Trouble takes a sip of his drink with a steady hand, though his whole body is tense, and his eyes never leave the man's face. Over in the corner, you notice Nessa looking anxious. The man continues, his words fast and twanging: "Got tired of mucking around in the dirt with all those Diminished? Missed your own kind?" Then he casts a glance over at you. "Ah. Or are you just bringing your friends around to pollute our air?" Trouble's gloved fist tightens, but he just stares back at the man without saying a word. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I think you're the only one polluting the air with your ugly talk."</div>' 'troublefight1a'>><<setcourage +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Should we leave, Trouble?"</div>' 'troublefight1b'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Ignore the man. He clearly just wants to get a rise out of you.</div>' 'troublefight1c'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

The man looks around at you, as if surprised you have the gall to address him. "I don't recall asking <i>you</i>, bright-eyes," he sneers. "Didn't anyone ever teach you how to address your betters?" There's a squeal of wood on wood as Trouble abruptly stands and shoves his chair back. <<include "troublefightlazualmost">>

The man laughs, looking at Trouble. "Yes, Trouble," he says in a mocking tone. "Why don't you leave? No one wants you and your filthy friend here, anyway." There's a soft scrape of wood on wood as Trouble pushes his chair back and stands, slowly and deliberately. He cracks his knuckles, then his neck. <<include "troublefightlazualmost">>

The man is amused by your silence. "Now, that's not the Trouble I know," he mocks. "What's happened, Trubs? The Shepherds not only turned you into a lapdog—they made you a eunuch, too?" Trouble slowly raises his eyes to look at the man, and although his voice is tight and calm, you can see a golden rage burning in his gaze. "This would be a good time to shut the fuck up, Lazu," he says. The man grins. "Why don't you make me?" For a moment Trouble just studies the man. Then, slowly, ominously, he cracks his neck and rises to his feet. <<include "troublefightlazualmost">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Stop Trouble; it's not worth it.</div>' 'troublefight2a'>><<setintelligence +3>><<setloyal +1>><<set $troubleharden += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Let Trouble fight the man.</div>' 'troublefight2b'>><<setcunning +3>><<setloyal -1>><<set $troubleharden -= 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Get up and threaten the man yourself.</div>' 'troublefight2c'>><<setcourage +3>><<setcompassionate -3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"Trouble," you say sharply. "Don't." He looks at you as if from a great distance, jaw set and eyes blazing. A kind of silent current passes between the two of you—he says something like, <i>Seriously?</i> and you shake your head at him. Finally, he slowly unclenches his fist and says in a low voice, "Consider yourself lucky, <i>muti</i>. You get in my face again and I'll make sure no one recognizes yours afterward." The man laughs, but he backs down—for now. "You've lost your fire, Trouble," Lazu remarks, moving to the bar where Nessa is tensely watching. "Being in the Shepherds has made you soft!" Trouble looks over at you and jerks his head. It's time to go. <<include "troublefightover1">>

Trouble meets your eye only once. You nod and signal back with your own gaze: <i>Go for it</i>. He's cocking back his fist when someone's sharp voice cuts in: Nessa, standing behind the bar and watching your interaction with reproachful eyes. "I know you aren't thinking about starting a fight in the Crown," she says, firmly. "Lazu, Rand's told you to keep your brawls out of here, or he'll start calling the Vice Guard on you. And Trouble—I know your Commander has told you to start setting a better example." Trouble relaxes a little, lowering his arm. The man called Lazu smirks at him and also shifts his hand; you notice for the first time that he has a knife at his belt, and his fingers are uncurling from around it. "You're right, Nessa," Trouble says slowly, deliberately, though he's still positively crackling with anger. He doesn't look at Lazu again. "I won't try anything—today. But you get in my face again, Lazu, and I'll make sure no one recognizes yours afterwards." Lazu laughs and moves towards the bar. "You've lost your fire, Trubs," he calls over his shoulder. "Being with the Shepherds has made you soft!" Trouble catches your eye and jerks his head. Time to go. <<include "troublefightover1">>

You stand up, slowly and deliberately. "I know people like you," you say softly, staring into the man's eyes so that he can see the mage-glow in yours. "You're trash—and you only seem to find happiness in bringing people down to your level. Are you sure you want me to get down into the mud with you?" The smile wavers on the man's face, and after a moment he looks away and backs up a step. "A pair of mad dogs, the both of you," he says, addressing Trouble over your shoulder. But you detect a hint of nervousness in his brash tone. "Not worth my time." "You say that," you say, rotating your wrist a little, "and yet you took the time to come and interrupt <i>us</i>." Nessa is watching the three of you from the bar; now she speaks up and says, "I know you're not about to break the law in my tavern." She's referring, of course, to your use of magic—illegal unless this man happens to be a demon. "I don't need magic to deal with the likes of him," you tell her. Then Trouble stands and touches your elbow. "Leave it," he says gruffly. "He's not worth the breath." The man laughs as the two of you leave money on the table and start to walk away. "You've lost your fire, Trouble," he calls out after you. "Being with the Shepherds has made you soft!" <<include "troublefightover1">>

<<page_break "Next" "troublefightout">>

<<nobr>><<set $troublestatus to "You've gotten closer, but you still feel as if he's wrestling with the demons of his past.">><</nobr>> Outside, back in the glassy heat of the sun, you turn to look at Trouble. "Who the Hael was that?" Trouble rubs his jaw; his eyes are still tight and angry. "Lazu Reen," he answers. "An old rival, that's all—from my gang days. He led his group and I led mine. We were always clashing—over food, territory. Blood feuds. You'd think he'd have been relieved when I left that life behind, because it meant less competition for him, but now he takes it like I think I'm better than him and my old crew—one or two of which ended up joining his. Just another part of my past rearing his ugly head." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Touch his arm. "I know what it means to have your past haunting you."</div>' 'troublefinal1'>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 1>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Can anything be done about it?"</div>' 'troublefinal2'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"He's an ass. Forget him."</div>' 'troublefinal3'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Trouble looks at you, and his gaze softens. Just briefly, his gloved hand covers yours. "Yeah," he says gruffly. "Thanks, <<c halfname>>. It's... it's nice to be around someone who gets it." <<include "troublefinalcont">>

Trouble snorts. "Beyond beating the snot out of him? No. Not gonna call the Vice Guard on a lowlife like that. He ain't a demon or a big-time criminal. Dealing with him would just get my hands dirty, any way you slice it." <<include "troublefinalcont">>

Trouble nods, looking distracted. "Yeah," he says, though he doesn't sound very convincing. <<include "troublefinalcont">>

Then he catches you watching him and forces a grin. "No matter," he says, thumping your back. "Let's just forget about it, eh? Next time I'll have to find us a drinking place with better company." You nod, trying to match his smile. But as you head back to the Shepherds' compound together, you can't help but think that Trouble fights the Endarkened with more vigor than anybody—but he still hasn't managed to deal with all of the demons of his own past. <<include "troubleover">>

<<nobr>><<settrouble +3>> <<set $troubletrait2 to "loyal">><</nobr>> Trouble asked you to meet him at the same tavern you went to last time, The Burning Crown, for drinks before exploring the city. But when you get there, you find Trouble standing in the doorway, as tense and coiled as a cornered lion—and over his shoulder, you see Lazu Reen standing in the center of the pub. With a lot of others. There are at least a dozen of them crammed into the tiny room, all looking like they're itching for a fight. Some even sport brass knuckles on their fists, and they all look to Lazu Reen for direction. The wiry-haired man stops talking as soon as you appear in the doorway behind Trouble, though you notice how the sniper raises his shoulders, as if to block you from Lazu's line of sight. It doesn't work, however, and the bully sneers, breaking off whatever insults he'd been hurling at Trouble before you walked in. "Call your little hedgewitch to help you, <i>muti</i>?" This is a dire insult to a Mage such as yourself, and he knows it. Trouble makes a sound low in his throat, almost like a growl. Nessa, standing safely behind the counter of the bar, shouts, "You're a coward, Lazu Reen! And the owner's going to have your head if he finds out you brought your whole ruddy gang here just to take on one man!" "This is our turf," Lazu spits back, not looking at her. "Rand'll do well to remember that. And we got to defend our turf from stray dogs, don't we?" This is to the members of the group ranged around him, many of whom nod. Lazu points at one young man with ragged scars lining his cheeks like whiskers. "Remember ol' Bati, Trubs? He was under your wing before you just upped and left. He counted on you. And you left him." "My little brother starved because of you," the man called Bati snarls. From behind, you can't read Trouble's expression. He says, in a steady enough voice: "I didn't <i>up and leave</i>, bastard. I was kidnapped and tortured by Mages, mutilated and left for dead—or didn't you all hear that?" That seems to take at least several members of the crowd by surprise; they glance uncertainly at each other, murmuring. Even Bati pauses, looking hesitant. But Lazu Reen, undeterred, says, "Sure you were, Trubs. That explain why you're lickin' the boots of them so-called Mages now—because they brainwashed you?" He laughs, casting you a cruel glance. "Sure explains why you're sticking your prig in that one, anyway." Trouble flies forward and slams his fist into Lazu Reen's face, hard enough to knock some teeth out. The man, taken by surprise, goes flying into a table and sends earthenware cups crashing to the floor. Nessa screams as Trouble leaps on the man, seemingly intent on grinding his face into a pulp on the hardwood. Other members of Lazu's gang jump into the fray. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Jump forward and fight alongside Trouble.</div>' 'troublefight1'>><<setcourage +3>><<settrouble +3>><<setcunning -3>><<setstrength +1>><<setloyal -1>><<set $arrest to true>><<set $troublestatus to "You got thrown in jail together, and that kind of experience bonds you for life.">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Hang back and watch, but don't get involved.</div>' 'troublefight2'>><<setcunning +3>><<setcourage -3>><<setloyal -3>><<set $troublestatus to "He got thrown in jail on your behalf.">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Jump forward, but only to pull Trouble away.</div>' 'troublefight3'>><<setintelligence +1>><<setloyal +1>><<settrouble +1>><<set $troubleharden += 1>><<set $troublestatus to "He got thrown in jail on your behalf.">><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

You leap without a second thought into the fray, slamming your fists and feet into the blockade of bodies willy-nilly. There is the satisfying crunch of cartilage, howls and shrieks of pain as the two of you grimly press on, making short work of the gang and leaving them in a heap at your feet. There's no question that you possess the superior fighting skills, even if they have the greater numbers. Trouble in particular fights with the fury of an animal locked in a cage—elbows smashing into ribs, boots hammering into shins. Someone yanks at his collar, and he wrenches free with a savage snarl, teeth bared and gloved knuckles flashing with blood. And then you hear the tavern door opening, even more shouts and blows being doled out—and then you look up and see a sun medallion very similar to your own, dangling above your face. You look up even further and find the cold eyes of a Vice Guard glaring down at you. They've stormed the building, intent on breaking up the fight. "You're under arrest," the Vice Guard growls. <<include "viceguardarrest">>

You watch as Trouble sits on Lazu's chest, slamming the man's head against the floor while the other gang members try in vain to pry him off. Trouble's outnumbered at least eight to one, but he fights with the fury of an animal locked in a cage—elbows smashing into ribs, boots hammering into shins. Someone yanks at his collar, and he wrenches free with a savage snarl, teeth bared. It's a flurry of fists, shouting, kicking, spittle, and blood—one that you're thankful you're not getting involved with. You're even more grateful when the door opens and the Vice Guard storms in, intent on breaking up the fight. "Stop! You're under arrest!" <<include "viceguardarrest">>

<<nobr>><<if $strength >= 30>> You manage to wrestle Trouble off Lazu and drag him backwards as he shouts incomprehensible challenges at the others, managing to get one solid kick into Lazu's chest again before you haul him away—but your efforts come just a little bit too late, because then the Vice Guard storm in. <br><br> "Stop! You're under arrest!" <<else>> However, Trouble is hellishly strong, and it's impossible for you to pry him off of Lazu; Trouble sits on Lazu's chest, slamming the man's head against the floor while the other gang members try in vain to pry him off, grim and determined and out for the man's blood. <br><br> "<i>You bloody leave us alone, you hear me, kisich?</i>" he shouts in Lazu's face. The man howls in terror and pain, blood streaming in rivulets down his broken nose. "<i>I ever see your face again, you're going to walk away without it!</i>" <br><br> "Trouble, stop!" But he can't hear you over the caterwauling and bellowing of the other gang members, who also pull on his arms and attempt to drag him off of their leader; he must think that your hands are just another set of his enemies'. <br><br> Your efforts aren't enough to put a stop to the fight before the Vice Guard storm in to break it up. <br><br> "Stop! You're under arrest!" <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "viceguardarrest">>

<<page_break "Uh-oh..." "troublepostfight1">>

<<nobr>><<if $arrest is true>> <<setblade -10>> <<set $cantbecommander += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> Later, Blade glares at you and Trouble, who's holding a bag of ice to his bruised and swelling eye. "You idiot," he fumes from his office desk. "<i>You absolute idiot</i>. Do you know how much this has damaged our reputation? There are already those in the city who fear us, who are just waiting for us to use our powers for ill gain. How is it going to look when it gets out that one of our officers was brawling in the streets and inciting violence? <i>Against Norm commonfolk, with no evidence of magical crime?</i>" He regards his friend sourly. "You're lucky they even let you out of jail. The rest of your friends are going to rot there for a sennight." Trouble says nothing for a moment, though you see how his shoulders sag with shame. Sitting slouched in one of Blade's chairs, he looks like a kicked dog. "What'd you bribe 'em with?" he mumbles finally, through a split lip. Blade's glare deepens. "Gold, of course," he snaps. "From the Shepherd funds?" "No, idiot, my own money—anything else wouldn't be ethical." "I'll pay you back," Trouble begins thickly. "That's not the point, <i>kisich</i>." It's the first time you've heard Blade curse at someone; he stands abruptly and paces. "Gold won't keep those guards' mouths shut. If the Autarch hears about this—if she has even the inkling of the thought that we pose any threat to the civilians, or that we're disorderly, or that we stand for anything other than justice and the law—we all might pay for your temper." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $arrest is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I was arrested, too. If you're going to be angry at Trouble, blame me, too."</div>' 'troublepostfight2'>><<settrouble +2>><<setloyal -5>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"It's not Trouble's fault! Lazu Reen was taunting him, hurling vitriol."</div>' 'troublepostfight3'>><<settrouble +1>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"It's my fault. Trouble was defending me. Lazu Reen was saying foul things about me."</div>' 'troublepostfight4'>><<settrouble +1>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setloyal +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Remain silent. Blade's right; it was wrong to fight.</div>' 'troublepostfight5'>><<setloyal +3>><<setblade +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Join in on the scolding. "What were you thinking, Trouble?"</div>' 'troublepostfight5'>><<settrouble -5>><<setcompassionate -1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"Oh, I do," Blade answers, fixing you with a glare of your own. "Trouble has a history of this—but you, you should have known better." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Bristle. "I wasn't just going to stand by and let them outnumber him."</div>' 'troublepostfight6'>><<setloyal -5>><<settrouble +3>><<setblade -2>><<setcourage +2>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Hang your head. He's right. You lost your temper, too.</div>' 'troublepostfight6'>><<setloyal +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"It damn well is Trouble's fault," Blade retorts, his tone icy. "He's an officer of the law now. Insults do nothing but hurt the ego. He should have learned to ignore it." "They were going to fight him," you begin. "They were standing there, waiting for him, outnumbering him, holding weapons." "But <i>he</i> threw the first punch," Blade answers. "There are over a dozen eyewitnesses who can testify to that. We might have made a case for lawful self-defense—but not when sixteen people saw Trouble knock that fool's teeth out first." <<include "troublepostfight6">>

This gives Blade a moment's pause as his eyes go from you to Trouble. "Is that true?" he asks, his tone still clipped and cold. Trouble, looking at the ground, nods tightly. "What did he say?" Blade asks, looking at you and frowning. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"He called me a hedgewitch."</div>' 'autogenerated_69053'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"He made disgusting sexual comments."</div>' 'troublepostfight4a'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

It's a dire insult to someone with Mage blood. <<include 'troublepostfight4a'>>

<<nobr>><<if ($bladeromanceflag >= 15)>> You don't miss how Blade's gaze sharpens and his knuckles tighten. For a moment, he looks utterly furious, a sharp flare of anger and prana making the air around him spike. Then he relaxes his shoulders slightly and closes his eyes. "I see," he says tightly, mastering his temper. "That changes things. Maybe I would have done the same." But he still casts Trouble a reproving glance. "Typically you start swinging in defense of <i>your</i> pride, not another's." <<elseif ($blade >= 62)>> Blade's frown deepens, and a look of cold anger crosses his face before he masters it. "I see," he says slowly, tightly. "Then I suppose that changes things. I can't fault him for defending a friend." <<else>> Blade makes a noise of disgust and sits back down. "That changes things," he allows reluctantly. "Not by much. But I understand better now." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "troublepostfight6">>

Trouble just looks down at the ground, silent and burning with shame. <<include "troublepostfight6">>

The Ket turns away then, sighing through his nose. He rubs his temples as if he feels a headache coming on. "You're dismissed," he says, his tone now schooled back into its usual stoic flatness. Then he cuts another glare at Trouble and adds, "And <i>you're</i> on guard duty for a month, or until we can find out what consequences this arrest will have." You nod and follow Trouble out as he silently exits the office. <<page_break "In the Courtyard" "troublepostfight7">>

"<<c halfname>>." You turn just as you enter the Shepherds' courtyard, at the moment silent and empty, as there are no recruits training here today. Trouble is staring at you in a tired, resigned way out of his one good eye, the other one welded shut by Lazu Reen's fist. "I'm sorry," he says softly, looking once at your face before back down at the ground. "I feel like a shitheel. Didn't want you to see me like that, either. Just—when he said those things about you—my blood got to boiling, and before I even knew it, I was on him." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"It's all right, Trouble. I'm glad you punched that bastard's teeth out."</div>' 'troublepostfight8'>><<settrouble +1>><<set $troubleharden -= 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I would have done the same thing. I was about to."</div>' 'autogenerated_69054'>><<settrouble +1>><<set $troubleharden -= 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Trouble... I appreciate you defending me. But next time, it's not worth going to jail for, all right?"</div>' 'troublepostfight9'>><<settrouble +1>><<set $troubleharden += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'd rather you be safe and prudent rather than get hurt stopping some idiot from mouthing off about me."</div>' 'autogenerated_69055'>><<settrouble +1>><<set $troubleharden += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'll be honest, I'm pretty upset with you. I didn't like seeing you like that."</div>' 'troublepostfight10'>><<settrouble -10>><</link>> <<if $charisma >= 35>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Honestly, I just feel bad for Lazu. If I didn't know any better, I'd say he has a little crush on you."</div>' 'troublepostfight11'>><<settrouble +1>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

Trouble smiles slightly, the smile a bit crooked and pained. "Yeah." <<include 'troublepostfight12'>>

Trouble sighs. "Yeah," he says, chagrined. "I know." <<include 'troublepostfight12'>>

Trouble smiles slightly, the smile a bit crooked and pained. "Yeah," he says. "At least now he'll leave the both of us alone. Fucker got his ass beat." <<include "troublepostfight12">>

Trouble nods awkwardly. "Yeah," he says, his voice still soft. "All right." <<include "troublepostfight12">>

Trouble's face falls. "Yeah," he mutters, looking back down at the ground. "I know. I'm really sorry." <<include "troublepostfight12">>

Trouble snorts, and there's a look of mingled disgust and amusement on his face. "Get off it," he mutters, rolling his eyes. "And even if he wasn't a total shit-for-brains, he's ugly as sin. No, he's just… hateful. Stupid. A bully who doesn't have any other purpose to his life other than making others feel bad." Then he sobers, going quiet. <<include "troublepostfight12">>

He looks up at you again. "I know my habit of… shooting from the hip is bad. It's just… you're my friend and I care about you. I don't like anyone talking shit on you." He shakes his head. "But I'm going to work on it. I can't let my temper keep kakking things up." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Nod. "I think that's a good idea."</div>' 'troublepostfight13'>><<set $troubleharden += 5>><<set $trouble_calmnoanger to true>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Smile at him. "I like you as you are; I just want you to be safer. And smarter."</div>' 'troublepostfight13'>><<set $troubleharden += 3>><<set $trouble_calmnoanger to true>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Shake your head. "No, stay true to yourself. And to Hael with anyone who says otherwise."</div>' 'troublepostfight13'>><<set $troubleharden -= 5>><<setloyal -5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Nudge his shoulder. "I like your temper. Keep being you."</div>' 'troublepostfight13'>><<set $troubleharden -= 5>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

His mouth quirks, and there's something very rogueish about his blackened eye, his tousled hair, the smear of blood on his cheek. "Sounds good," he says, his gaze warm as he looks at you. Then he sighs and runs a hand through his hair. "I'm tired. Need a smoke. You want to go up to the battlements for a bit?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Go with him.</div>' 'autogenerated_69056'>><<settrouble +1>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You're tired, too. It's time for you to retire.</div>' 'troublepostfight14'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Trouble rewards you with a sunny grin. <<include 'troublebattlements'>>

Trouble smiles. "All right. I'll talk to you later, <<c halfname>>." Then he hesitates and adds, "…And thanks." <<include "troubleover">>

<<set $aspiration to "">> Up on the battlements, you're surprised by the sudden brisk wind that overtakes you, the cold rush snapping your cloak against your knees. <<nobr>><<if $troubleromanceflag >= 10>> Trouble notices your shiver and slings his own cloak over your shoulders, giving your left shoulder one brief, fond squeeze before moving to a gap in the battlement—the crenel—and sitting in it, his feet dangling over the city. <<elseif $trouble >= 60>> Trouble notices your shiver and thumps your back fondly before moving to a gap in the battlement—the crenel—and sitting in it, his feet dangling over the city. <<else>> Trouble gives you a smile as he moves to a gap in the battlement—the crenel—and sits in it, his feet dangling over the city. <</if>><</nobr>> The cold doesn't seem to bother him as the wind ruffles his blond hair. Below you, Haven stretches out like one dirty-white carpet, looking like it's populated by a frenzy of ants. Trouble lights a stick of charch and sticks it in his mouth, then belatedly turns to you, proffering his pack and smelling suddenly of spiced apples. "Want a smoke?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Take one. Charch is one of the few pleasures Mages are allowed, and you're a frequent smoker.</div>' 'troublesmoke15'>><<settrouble +1>><<set $charch to true>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Take one. You've smoked charch before.</div>' 'troublesmoke15'>><<settrouble +1>><<set $charch to true>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Take one. You've never smoked before, but you'd like to try.</div>' 'troublesmoke15'>><<settrouble +1>><<set $charch to true>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Refuse. You've smoked charch before, but you're not interested right now.</div>' 'troublesmoke15'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Refuse. You've never smoked before, and you don't intend on starting now.</div>' 'troublesmoke15'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Afterwards, Trouble sighs and leans back, placing his weight on his palms as he looks at the sky, then at the city below. "We're high up," he remarks. "Hope you're not scared of heights." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I love being up high. Makes me feel alive."</div>' 'autogenerated_69057'>><<setcourage +2>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm fine with them."</div>' 'troublesmoke25'>><<setcourage +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"They make me a little uneasy."</div>' 'troublesmoke1a'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm actually pretty terrified."</div>' 'troublesmoke1a'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Trouble shoots you a grin. "Addicted to thrills, you are," he jokes affectionately. <<include 'troublesmoke25'>>

Trouble grins at you. "We won't be up here long," he tells you. "And don't worry—I won't let you fall." <<include "troublesmoke25">>

He blows out a slow cloud of smoke and continues, "I always kind of liked heights. It was the only way to get some quiet in this city, growing up. Get away from the stink and the bustle of things. Heights and machines—that was my thing. Besides fighting, of course." "Machines?" you prompt him. He nods. "I was always tinkering with them, even when I was a kid. I wanted to be an airship pilot when I grew up. Wanted to know what it was like to fly." He sighs, exhaling more smoke. "Life had other plans, I guess. Got caught up in that gang and went down the more violent route of guns instead of airships. But I still like them, mind. In some ways they're kind of similar." He trails off, blinks, and then grins at you. "Sorry, I'm rambling." He rubs a finger under his nose, charch clenched between his teeth. "Did you ever want to be something in particular, when you were a kid? Or are you exactly where you thought you'd be?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I don't remember."</div>' 'troublesmoke3'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I did have a dream..."</div>' 'troublesmoke4'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I didn't want to be anything in particular. I just didn't think about it."</div>' 'troublesmoke5'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Trouble makes a humming sound. "Yeah, it was a long time ago." <<include "troublesmoke5">>

"I wanted to be..." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"...a scholar."</div>' 'troublesmoke4a'>><<setintelligence +1>><<set $aspiration to "scholar">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"...a soldier."</div>' 'troublesmoke4b'>><<set $aspiration to "soldier">><<setcourage +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"...an explorer."</div>' 'troublesmoke4b'>><<set $aspiration to "explorer">><<setcourage +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"...a hunter."</div>' 'troublesmoke4a'>><<setstrength +1>><<set $aspiration to "hunter">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"...a farmer."</div>' 'troublesmoke4a'>><<setstrength +1>><<set $aspiration to "farmer">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"...a politician."</div>' 'troublesmoke4a'>><<setcharisma +1>><<set $aspiration to "politician">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"...a diplomat."</div>' 'troublesmoke4a'>><<setcharisma +1>><<set $aspiration to "diplomat">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"...a merchant."</div>' 'troublesmoke4a'>><<setcunning +1>><<set $aspiration to "merchant">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"...a teacher."</div>' 'troublesmoke4a'>><<setintelligence +1>><<set $aspiration to "teacher">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"...a pirate."</div>' 'troublesmoke4c'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">...something else.</div>' 'troublesmoke4d'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Trouble grins. "Sounds fitting." <<include "troublesmoke5">>

Trouble laughs lightly. "Sounds like you're in the right profession then, eh?" he says softly. <<include "troublesmoke5">>

Trouble laughs. "Might want to talk to Chase about that," he remarks. <<include "troublesmoke5">>

"I remember I wanted to be a <<textbox "$aspiration" "">>." <<page_break "Next" "troubleaspirationreact">>

Trouble cocks his head. "<<c aspiration>>, huh?" he ruminates. "Interesting. I dunno if that's totally out of line or somehow fitting." <<include "troublesmoke5">>

You talk on the subject for a while before you decide to add: <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You can still be an airship pilot someday, you know."</div>' 'troublesmoke6'>><</link>> <<if $aspiration is not "">><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Those dreams faded when my village was destroyed."</div>' 'troublesmoke7'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Were some of those people really members of your gang once?"</div>' 'troublesmoke8'>><</link>> <<if $arrest is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"You think us getting arrested is really going to get everyone in trouble?"</div>' 'troublesmoke9'>><</link>><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

Trouble laughs and shakes his head. "Nah," he says warmly. "Those were the dreams and fancies of a kid who still thought the Sorrow Man was real. I'm happy where I am now. I'll likely be a Shepherd 'til I die." He looks up at the sky again, his voice softening. "Besides, if I weren't where I am now, I never would have met Blade… Tallys… Chase…" <<nobr>><<if $trouble >= 70>> He glances at you, his golden gaze affectionate. "Or you." <<include "troubleaw">> <<else>> <br><br> <<include "almosttroubledayover2">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Trouble makes a grimace of sadness, then reaches out to touch your shoulder. "Hey," he says softly. "I'm glad you're here, at least. You've been through terrible things, but at least they led you here…" Suddenly his hand falls away, and he looks embarrassed. "I'm not saying it right. I'm not saying it's a good thing—you losing your family—" He trails off awkwardly. "But I'm glad we met, at least." <<nobr>><<if $trouble >= 70>> <<include "troubleaw">> <<else>> <br><br> <<include "almosttroubledayover2">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Trouble grimaces, clearly not wanting to talk about this. "Yeah," he says finally, reluctantly. "I recognized some of 'em. I always suspected some of them blamed me for what happened, but…" He blows a breath. "I was their leader, you know? They took me in when I was three, four. I grew up with a lot of 'em. Took charge when the older kids aged up, got actual jobs, made a life for themselves. I looked after the little ones, made sure we had enough food to go around. Probably would have stayed with them forever, but…" He trails off. "But the Equalists happened. And afterwards I was too fucked up to think about going back. I wasn't my old self; I wasn't the Trouble they knew. They'd fallen under Lazu Reen when I was gone anyway, so I figured they were better off and went my own way." He stops. "I still talk to some of them, nowadays. The ones who grew up and made something of themselves, anyway. I guess that's how word got back to the rest." His look turns bitter. "Never imagined hearing that I'm alive would piss someone off so much." Then he shrugs and looks at you. "Still. I wouldn't trade any of it for anything. If none of that had happened, I wouldn't be here, with all of you. I wouldn't have met Blade, or Tallys, or Chase…" <<nobr>><<if $trouble >= 70>> He glances at you, his golden gaze affectionate. "Or you." <<include "troubleaw">> <<else>> <br><br> <<include "almosttroubledayover2">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Trouble heaves a weary sigh. "Who knows?" he asks. "My opinion, Vice Guard are always getting drunk and beating the shit out of each other—or even civilians, sometimes. Maybe the Autarch won't give a shit that one wayward Shepherd officer or two did the same… especially since one of them's a Norm. They tend to turn a blind eye to that kind of thing when it's <i>their</i> folk, sadly." He grimaces. "Needless to say, you don't have to worry, <<c halfname>>. This is all on me, and I'll take responsibility. No one's going to touch a hair on your head, if I've got anything to say about it." He grins at you crookedly. "I've got your back, like you've got mine." <<nobr>><<if $trouble >= 70>> <<include "troubleaw">> <<else>> <br><br> <<include "almosttroubledayover2">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Lean against him affectionately. "I'm glad I met you, Trouble."</div>' 'troubleaw2'>><<settrouble +3>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 1>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>> <<if $troubleromanceflag >= 15>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Put a hand on his broad knee. "I couldn't imagine life without you, you know."</div>' 'troubleaw3'>><<settrouble +3>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 3>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Nod. "Yeah."</div>' 'almosttroubledayover2'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Look away and say nothing.</div>' 'troubleaw4'>><<settrouble -3>><<setloyal -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Turn away. "Whatever you say."</div>' 'troubleaw5'>><<settrouble -10>><<setloyal -10>><<setcompassionate -5>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

He leans back, his presence warm and solid against you. He smells of smoke and sun and metal. "Me, too, <<c halfname>>," he says affectionately. "Don't know where I'd be if you weren't around to haul my ass out of jail." "Blade did that, didn't he?" "Yeah, well. You're a damn sight nicer than he is. So let's just tell everyone it was all you." <<include "troubleover">>

You feel Trouble go very still beneath your hand for a moment. Then he clears his throat and mumbles, "Er—yeah. Same here. I mean… yeah. Me too." When you look at him, a fierce dark blush is creeping up his neck, and he's staunchly looking everywhere but you. Finally he gets up, causing your hand to fall away from him, and says in a fast undertone, "Er. Guess it's time to go back. My face is hurting something fierce." He gives you a gloved hand to help lift to your feet, and for just a moment, your hands linger in each other's, your fingers intertwined. Then Trouble turns away, still blushing, and says, "Thanks, <<c firstname>>." What he's thanking you for, you're not sure. He doesn't even seem to know, himself. You part ways in the courtyard again, Trouble slinking off with his ears red enough for steam to come out of them. <<include "troubleover">>

Trouble notices your awkward silence, but doesn't comment on it. <<include "almosttroubledayover2">>

Trouble frowns, but seems too tired to challenge your words. You sit in awkward silence for a while before you decide it's time to part ways. Trouble waves at you and slinks off, intent on nursing his wounds in solitude. <<include "troubleover">>

You sit for a long time, talking contentedly as the wind whirls smoke around your faces, before it's time to go back down. Trouble claps your shoulder again and mumbles something about staying out of trouble—he says this unironically—before he saunters away. <<include "troubleover">>

<<settrouble +3>>You find Trouble having a meal in the refectory; his face instantly brightens when he catches sight of you, and he waves you over to his table. "<<c halfname>>!" he shouts around a mouthful of food. "Come on over. I was hoping I'd see you." Grinning, you slide onto the bench next to him, and he fondly reaches over to <<nobr>><<if $troubleromanceflag >= 15>> give you a one-armed hug, even with his other hand occupied with holding an enormous steak sandwich. <<elseif $trouble >= 80>> ruffle your hair, even with his other hand occupied with holding an enormous steak sandwich. <<else>> give you a friendly punch on the shoulder, even with his other hand occupied with holding an enormous steak sandwich. <</if>><</nobr>> You're instantly enfolded in the warm, comforting smell of charch smoke, leather, and the light hint of metal or machine oil. "Missed you, kid," he says in a muffled, jocular tone. "Feels like you've been gone for <i>ages</i>." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Tease him. "Did you cry every night while I was gone? Were you inconsolable?"</div>' 'autogenerated_69058'>><<settrouble +1>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Make light of it. "I wasn't gone <i>that</i> long."</div>' 'autogenerated_69059'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"'Kid'? Where exactly do you get off?"</div>' 'autogenerated_69060'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Lean away from him. "Could you not touch me while you're eating?"</div>' 'autogenerated_69061'>><<settrouble -1>><<set $troubleromanceflag -= 1>><<setcharisma -1>><<setloyal -1>><<setcompassionate -1>><</link>> <<if $troubleromanceflag gte 15>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Kiss him on the cheek. "Missed you, too."</div>' 'autogenerated_69062'>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 5>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

He laughs easily. "You bet. My pillows were so full of snot that the laundresses lodged a formal complaint." "<i>Gross</i>." "You started it." <<include 'troubleinterlude4_next'>>

"Yeah? Well, it <i>felt</i> like it," he returns. "It's so boring here without you. There're no world-ending threats or crazy factions to haul in or <i>anything</i>. All I do when I'm off-duty is spar and drink. By the end of it, the battle-masters were so sick of me coming around they actually barred me from practice." <<include 'troubleinterlude4_next'>>

He grins. "No good? I'm trying out different nicknames. If Chase <<nobr>><<if ($halfname2 != "") or ($halfname != $firstname)>> and Red get to do it, <<else>> gets to do it, <</if>><</nobr>> why can't I?" "What if I'm older than you?" "No real bloody way to tell, is there? I don't know my own birthday." "…I guess I don't really, either." You were adopted, after all. "Right. So I could make 'kid' work." "Not sure you have the authoritative air for that." "Hey, kiss my ass. I'm Vice-Commander for a reason." <<include 'troubleinterlude4_next'>>

He snorts. "Sorry, <<nobr>><<if $gender is "female">> duchess." <<elseif $gender is "male">> baron." <<else>> viscounte." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'troubleinterlude4_next'>>

Trouble grins at you sidelong, seemingly unperturbed by your open display of affection. <<include 'troubleinterlude4_next'>>

You spend a happy hour catching up with each other, talking about all manner of things after you load your own plate with some snacks. In the time since you first came to know Trouble, you've discovered so many things about him: he enjoys adventure and detective novels, he likes tinkering with his guns and other mechanical objects, he tends to get awful haircuts, he's fond of dogs and is allergic to cats, he used to make side-money as a <i>panton-keras</i> street-fighter as a youth and is still an avid boxer. He's in the middle of giving you an enthusiastic rundown of his latest book when a few officers you've seen around before sidle up to your table with their trays. Trouble stops talking and greets them in much the same friendly way he just greeted you. "Cordy. Rovyn. Jalen. How's it going?" That's the other thing about Trouble, you think as the three officers—more cadets, really, fresh new faces for the Order—glance from his face to yours. He's immensely popular with the rank and file, even though he can be just as hard on them as Blade is during drills. An honest, forthright, salt-of-the-earth soldier like him—who will easily grab a beer with you after bawling you out—is a hard man to dislike, even as a superior. Whenever he happens to drop by a bar or strolls nonchalantly into the officers' lounge on his days off, he never has to pay for a drink or beg to be let into a game. In fact, it's usually the other way around. "Vice-Commander," the slender young man Cordy says. He has the olive skin and green eyes of someone from the Southern Crescent, and formerly worked as a Relay Rider and as a courier before joining up with the Shepherds, you recall. He is exceptionally fleet-of-foot and is considered an extremely nimble runner, even capable of scampering up walls or along high cables; you've overheard Chase coveting his skills for the Thieves Guild division before, and his easygoing, amiable demeanor would fit right in there. "<<c rank>> <<c surname>>. Would you mind if we sit here?" Trouble glances at you. "You're free to sit wherever you like, cadet." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Quash your feeling of disappointment. You were hoping to enjoy your meal with Trouble alone...</div>' 'autogenerated_69063'>><<setcharisma -2>><<setloyal -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Nod warmly. You enjoy socializing with new people just as much as he does.</div>' 'troubleinterlude4_officers'>><<setcharisma +2>><<setloyal +1>><<settrouble +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Give a coolly professional assent. They can sit here, but they'd better show you the appropriate respect.</div>' 'troubleinterlude4_officers'>><<setloyal +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Remain neutral. You don't really care either way.</div>' 'troubleinterlude4_officers'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Although Trouble is loyal and caring to a fault, sometimes he can forget that not everyone is as social as he is. On the other hand, it would have been a bit awkward to deny the newcomers for no real reason… right? <<include 'troubleinterlude4_officers'>>

The five of you exchange formal introductions, though it's obvious the three cadets are already well-aware of who you are. Jalen, judging by their accent, is from somewhere to the West and is probably half-Elven, claiming they worked as a 'van guard and a mercenary before joining up with the Order; they sport cropped sandy hair, cheerful green eyes, a muscular, brawny build, and a profusion of freckles. Rovyn, the young woman, is dark-haired, small-boned, and delicate: Trouble mentions she's a crack-shot with a rifle, which makes her retort pointedly, "It's easy to shoot at a target when he's cursing you out and telling you he'll make you run a thousand laps if you <i>don't</i>." Although you all laugh at the joke and Rovyn's smile remains pleasant, however, you notice that her large dark eyes are wary and her thin frame is strung with tension as she sits down across from you and Trouble. "So, Vice-Commander," Cordy begins casually, spearing a few greens with his fork, "this is lucky timing. We were just discussing you." Trouble raises his brows as he takes a sip from his glass. "Me?" "Yeah. It seems you've had a colorful past. Is it true that you ran in a gang when you were younger?" Trouble snorts as you both exchange smiling, knowing glances. "Yeah, but I wouldn't really call that colorful. Lots of urchins in Haven did. It's how you survive: you stick in a pack." "And is it true that you'd duel and rob nobles for cash?" He grimaces slightly. "Yeah, thought I'm not exactly proud of that bit. Still. Needs must." "<i>And</i> you fought as a <i>panton-keras</i> street-fighter down by the docks?" "That, I'm slightly more proud of, though it probably knocked my brain around too many times. You need a healthy amount of gold to keep all of your friends fed, when you're an urchin." "And then what happened after that?" Jalen asks keenly. "Because I've been a merc for a while now, and I actually have some associates who say they used to know you. They said you were a hired gun, and you'd take on jobs to snipe people that couldn't be killed by any other method. Is that true?" Trouble winces as if someone had jabbed their finger into an area with a tender bruise. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Prompt him. You knew he was a mercenary for a while after the Equalists, but you never quite put two-and-together: his particular set of skills almost certainly guarantees he worked as an assassin. "Well, Trouble?"</div>' 'troublepastmerc'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Reprimand them. "That seems like a tone-deaf thing to bring up with your commanding officer."</div>' 'autogenerated_69064'>><<setcourage +1>><<setloyal +1>><<settrouble +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Deflect. "I worked as a mercenary for a long time, too. Do I know any of your people, Jalen?"</div>' 'doiknowanyofyourpeoplejalen'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Remain silent. This is Trouble's conversation, not yours.</div>' 'troublepastmerc'>><<setloyal -1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Cordy looks appropriately chastened, but Jalen says off-handedly, "Is it? It's not like I'm judging him. I know damn well the kinds of things sellswords and soldiers-for-hire have to do. I don't think it's something to hide." <<include 'troublepastmerc'>>

<<nobr>><<if $charisma >= 50>> <<settrouble +1>> Your ploy works brilliantly: the recruits turn instantly to you, Cordy and Jalen eager now that you've given them tacit permission to grill you, while Rovyn looks more reserved. <<if $troubleromanceflag >= 15>> Discreetly, you feel Trouble's warm hand squeeze your knee in thanks under the table. <<else>> Trouble grants you a sidelong smile in thanks. <</if>> He resumes eating and listens with a smile on his face as you regale them all with thrilling stories about your own past, occasionally butting in with additions for the tales he already knows and exclamations or questions for the ones he doesn't. <br><br> <<include "allrightjalen">> <<else>> However, your obvious deflection doesn't work: Jalen says neutrally, "Maybe," before fixing their green eyes back on Trouble. <br><br> <<include "troublepastmerc">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Trouble grimaces again, then begins in a tone of reluctance, mainly addressing you: "It's true. After the Inquisitors saved us from the Equalists, I… didn't really know what else to do or where to go. I had to get out of Haven: I love this city, but I couldn't face my old mates, couldn't go back to my gang and try to pick up where I left off and try to explain to them what… happened to me while I was gone. I was just too… different. Too changed. They wouldn't have got it. Plus, they thought I was dead, so it would have been weird to show up again and go, 'Surprise, I'm not dead, I was just held captive and experimented on and I'm a mutant now!'" He shrugs. "So I took off and sallied around the East for a few years, picking up freelance jobs to pay my way. <i>Most</i> of them were pretty straightforward: protect a 'van from bandits or get some cattle to the fair in Leore without losing too many to the wolves, that kind of thing. Some jobs were with a whole company of fighters, hired to help an ailing village under siege by a corrupt warlord or something like that. But there were a couple that, uh…" "That hired you to kill someone specific," Jalen finishes easily. "Someone told me you took out a Karzaki priest during a public rite; supposedly you climbed up to the top of the cathedral a whole <i>half-mile away</i>, and right when he got up to the pulpit in the main square…" "Right," Trouble says in a dry voice. "I do remember that." He casts a sheepish glance at you. "And Hael, I mean, I was good at it. After those first few jobs, word started getting around that I was the man who could take out anyone, without even having to get close and personal like Blade or Chase would. My name started getting passed around for wet work." This, you know, is mercenary slang for assassinations and hit jobs. "That was when I decided to come back to Haven. I met Blade and we did jobs together on and off over the years, and then he decided to start the Shepherds, and… now here I am." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Why did you decide to come back? You didn't want to pursue a career as a hitman?"</div>' 'autogenerated_69065'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You don't have to act so embarrassed. I've killed plenty of people in my time, too."</div>' 'autogenerated_69066'>><<setcompassionate -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Wow, I had no idea about any of this."</div>' 'autogenerated_69067'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Trouble shakes his head. "No, it wasn't for me," he says bluntly. "It's one thing to fight off bandits in the heat of the moment or charge in, guns blazing, when you're trying to help people under siege, but the cold calculation it takes to stalk a single person who doesn't <i>know</i> you're watching them, planning on killing them, tracking their every movement through your scope as they go about their day and <i>you</i> have to decide when to pull the trigger… That shit gets in your head." He casts his eyes downward. "Honestly, I was in a bad place after the Equalists. I was kind of… it's all a blur, but looking back, I think I was half-mad, or something. I was lost and didn't know what to do with my life, and I was feral and angry and numb all at the same time. I just… didn't care about anything. Zonked out, blank—you know. Just running on fumes and adrenaline, like something mechanical, just thinking about putting one step in front of the other, but not even knowing why I was walking or where I was going. So if someone gave me a bag full of coin and pointed me at a group of thieves terrorizing villagers, or a single guy who was helping peddle drugs through Karzai, I didn't really care either way. I wasn't in the headspace to think too much about it. I think I was kind of glad to have someone just to point and tell me where to shoot." <<include 'trouble_continues'>>

Trouble huffs—you can't tell if it's a quiet laugh or a sigh. "I don't know that it's <i>embarrassed</i>," he admits. "Hael, I don't think there are that many Shepherds who <i>haven't</i> killed someone at some point. The body count for Blade and Chase alone make up for pretty much everyone else in the Order. But I just don't like to think about it. About who I was at that point." He casts his eyes downward. "Honestly, I was in a bad place after the Equalists. I was kind of… it's all a blur, but looking back, I think I was half-mad, or something. I was lost and didn't know what to do with my life, and I was feral and angry and numb all at the same time. I just… didn't care about anything. Zonked out, blank—you know. Just running on fumes and adrenaline, like something mechanical, just thinking about putting one step in front of the other, but not even knowing why I was walking or where I was going. So if someone gave me a bag full of coin and pointed me at a group of bandits terrorizing villagers, or a single guy who was helping peddle drugs through Karzai, I didn't really care either way. I wasn't in the headspace to think too much about it. I think I was kind of glad to have someone just to point and tell me where to shoot." <<include 'trouble_continues'>>

Trouble's so good-hearted that it's easy to forget that he has plenty of darkness in his past: not just what was done to him, but things he did himself. Robbery, cons, gang violence, street brawls, and apparently… murder. Trouble looks intensely troubled by the idea that any of this could change your perception of him. "I don't like to talk about it," he says, casting his eyes downward. "Honestly, I was in a bad place after the Equalists. I was kind of… it's all a blur, but looking back, I think I was half-mad, or something. I was lost and didn't know what to do with my life, and I was feral and angry and numb all at the same time. I just… didn't care about anything. Zonked out, blank—you know. Just running on fumes and adrenaline, like something mechanical, just thinking about putting one step in front of the other, but not even knowing why I was walking or where I was going. So if someone gave me a bag full of coin and pointed me at a group of bandits terrorizing villagers, or a single guy who was helping peddle drugs through Karzai, I didn't really care either way. I wasn't in the headspace to think too much about it. I think I was kind of glad to have someone just to point and tell me where to shoot." <<include 'trouble_continues'>>

Your group falls silent, absorbing this. After a few moments, Trouble breaks the tension with a self-deprecating laugh. "Yeah, not so exciting, is it? But honestly, I don't dwell much on it anymore. I'm just glad I'm here." "Was there a turning point for you?" you asked him. "What made you get out of that headspace?" Trouble shakes his head. "Honestly," he admits, "it was the Endarkened. I was getting more and more jobs that had to do with them: protecting clients on the road from getting attacked by Revenants, getting sent in to help towns that were being covered by Imp swarms. The problem just kept getting worse, but the more jobs that I took on like that… the better I felt, if that makes any sense. It was—the other jobs, sure, they helped people <i>sometimes</i>, but a lot of times it was just about maximizing some merchant's profits by making sure all his cargo got there intact. And sometimes I felt bad about the bandits because… well… some were absolute shitheads, but I'd also been in a place where I had to steal and rob to survive. Not like <i>that</i>, only ever from nobles who could afford it, but I certainly wasn't in a place to judge, either. But demons…" Jalen laughs at that. "I get that. Demons are clean and simple. Evil incarnate, so you <i>know</i> when you're taking them out, you're helping people." Trouble snaps his fingers at them. "That's exactly it. I started to remember that I liked helping people. That it made me feel really good, made me eager to get up in the mornings, made my blood run hot for the first time in forever. After a while, I was getting excited for jobs even when they'd send me to the worst of the frontlines. I stopped caring about the money, I started smiling again; I just kept thinking about the families I could help, the loved ones I could reunite, the innocent kids I could save. It gave me a sense of purpose. And that made me remember—I'd had that in Haven, too, even if it wasn't the best way to go about it. It made me take stock in what I actually cared about. And that's what made me come home." "And then you joined the Shepherds," you say with a smile. "The exact place you're supposed to be." Trouble toasts you with a wink. <<nobr>><<if $troubleromanceflag >= 20>> "Exactly. And am I ever grateful for it. If I hadn't, I wouldn't have met you." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Elbow him in the ribs. "You're so sappy."</div>' 'autogenerated_69068'>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 1>><<settrouble +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Lean into him affectionately.</div>' 'autogenerated_69069'>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 2>><<settrouble +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Look away and blush. He's too much sometimes...</div>' 'autogenerated_69070'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Joke. "Who knows? Maybe we would have crossed paths as mercenaries."</div>' 'autogenerated_69071'>><<settrouble +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <<else>> "Exactly. So let's all toast to the Shepherds, eh? The exact place we're <i>all</i> supposed to be." <br><br> The five of you clink your glasses together in a cheer. <br><br> <<include "allrightjalen">> <</if>><</nobr>>

He flinches from your nudge with an exaggerated <i>oof</i>, though you can tell he's grinning. "You're fuckin' mean to me, <<c halfname>>." "You like it." "Guilty." "Well, let's have a toast, shall we?" Cordy says deftly then, raising his glass. "To the Shepherds. The place we're all supposed to be." The five of you clink your glasses together in a cheer—though when you lower your glass, you notice Rovyn's eyes on you and Trouble, watching the two of you intently. At your glance, she immediately drops her gaze to her plate and picks at her food without much enthusiasm, ignoring you for the rest of the meal. <<include 'allrightjalen'>>

As easily as anything, his arm slips around your shoulders as he takes another drink from his glass, giving you an encouraging squeeze. "Well, let's have a toast, shall we?" Cordy says deftly then, raising his glass. "To the Shepherds. The place we're all supposed to be." The five of you clink your glasses together in a cheer—though when you lower your glass, you notice Rovyn's eyes on you and Trouble, watching the two of you intently. At your glance, she immediately drops her gaze to her plate and picks at her food without much enthusiasm, ignoring you for the rest of the meal. <<include 'allrightjalen'>>

Trouble smiles guilelessly at you, seemingly oblivious to your complicated expression. "Well, let's have a toast, shall we?" Cordy says deftly then, raising his glass. "To the Shepherds. The place we're all supposed to be." The five of you clink your glasses together in a cheer—though when you lower your glass, you notice Rovyn's eyes on you and Trouble, watching the two of you intently. At your glance, she immediately drops her gaze to her plate and picks at her food without much enthusiasm, ignoring you for the rest of the meal. <<include 'allrightjalen'>>

Trouble's eyes light up. "You think? Maybe we would have become gun-toting partners like in that novel. Hawke and Silver." "It's not too late; we could still do it." "But let's pick better names, yeah?" "Well, let's have a toast, shall we?" Cordy says deftly then, raising his glass. "To the Shepherds. The place we're all supposed to be." The five of you clink your glasses together in a cheer—though when you lower your glass, you notice Rovyn's eyes on you and Trouble, watching the two of you intently. At your glance, she immediately drops her gaze to her plate and picks at her food without much enthusiasm, ignoring you for the rest of the meal. <<include 'allrightjalen'>>

<<page_break "Next" "allrightjalen2">>

"All right," Jalen says after several more minutes of conversation, "one last question, and then we'll quit for today, I swear." Trouble rolls his eyes. "We've come this far," he says sarcastically. "Shoot." "Did you really get thrown in jail for beating the kak out of some civilian, few weeks back? And the Commander had to come bail you out?" Both you and Trouble freeze; he shoots you a panicked glance. "Um," he says blankly. "Er…" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $arrest is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"You're talking to me as well, right? Because we <i>both</i> got tossed in jail."</div>' 'autogenerated_69072'>><<settrouble +1>><<setloyal +1>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"It wasn't just 'some civilian.' It was an old rival gang member who was casting slurs and insults at both of us, and who rounded up several people to get the jump on one man. Trouble acted in self-defense."</div>' 'autogenerated_69073'>><<settrouble +1>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You cadets and your silly rumors. You really think your own Vice-Commander would have been so irresponsible so as to get thrown in <i>jail</i>?"</div>' 'autogenerated_69074'>><<setcunning +3>><<settrouble -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Listen, Trouble Alder doesn't take shit. That's just how it is. If you ask me, it was pretty inspiring."</div>' 'autogenerated_69075'>><<set $troubleharden -= 1>><<settrouble +1>><<setcourage +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Yes, he did, but that was a mistake he won't be repeating. Right, Trouble?"</div>' 'autogenerated_69076'>><<set $troubleharden += 1>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Yup, that's pretty much the measure of it."</div>' 'autogenerated_69077'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

The three cadets all turn to gawk at you, their eyes as round as saucers. "<i>What</i>? But what happened?" They listen intently as you give a brief summary of the events leading up to Trouble's fight with Lazu Reen. <<include 'trouble_gang_response'>>

The three cadets exchange uncertain, doubtful glances, but they seem to accept your answer. "It <i>did</i> seem like a tall tale," Cordy admits. "Well. I suppose that'll teach me to listen to the rumor mill." Trouble shoots you a conflicted, grateful look as he ducks his head to take another sip of his drink. <<include 'datemcquestion'>>

<<nobr>><<if $troubleromanceflag >= 10>> <<set $troubleromanceflag += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> Trouble coughs abruptly, seemingly embarrassed by your praise, while the cadets lean forward, hungry for more details. "<i>What</i>? But what happened?" They listen intently as you give a brief summary of the events leading up to Trouble's fight with Lazu Reen. <<include 'trouble_gang_response'>>

Trouble shoots you a sheepish glance. "Right," he affirms steadily. The three cadets all turn to gawk at you, their eyes as round as saucers. "<i>What</i>? But what happened?" They listen intently as you give a brief summary of the events leading up to Trouble's fight with Lazu Reen. <<include 'trouble_gang_response'>>

"Oh, well, if <i>that's</i> what happened, I don't blame you," Jalen says scornfully. "I'm not going to sit by and let someone call me and my friend names without standing up for myself." <<nobr>><<if $troubleharden > 2>> "Now hold on a minute," Trouble says hastily. "<i>Don't</i> bloody well follow my example, all right? For one thing, Blade—and Tallys, and Riel—would hang me by the neck until dead. For another, it's unbecoming of an officer, let alone a gods-damn Vice-Commander. What I did was shameful—you hear me? We're Shepherds now, not gangsters. We gotta live up to our medallions and set good examples—give the public a reason to trust us rather than fear us, you know? We can't have officers brawling in the streets just because they can't take being called words. We face way worse in the field every day without batting an eye, so we can take some insults from idiots who don't know any better. Learn from my mistake. I'm trying to do better, so you've got to, too. I catch any of you following in my footsteps, and you'll <i>wish</i> you'd stayed in jail." <br><br> The cadets look vaguely impressed by this display of maturity and growth. "Aye-aye, captain," Cordy says admiringly. <br><br> Trouble glances over at you, and you smile encouragingly at him. <<if $troubleromanceflag >= 15>> He looks away as abruptly as if you'd hit him. <<else>> He looks pleased as he turns back to the conversation. <</if>> <<else>> Trouble looks conflicted and vaguely uncomfortable, as if he isn't sure whether he should be setting a better example for the recruits, but after a moment, he says slowly, "It <i>did</i> feel good to punch that kakhead's teeth out." <br><br> This is met with a roar of approval and praise from the cadets, to the point where other tables glance over to see what all the commotion's about. "Remind me to buy you a drink for it next time we're at the <i>Wolf's Den</i>," Jalen says with a laugh. To Rovyn, they add, "See? I <i>told</i> you he's the best commanding officer I've ever had." <<if $troubleromanceflag >= 15>> <br><br> Rovyn, smiling softly in Trouble's direction, only nods her head in silent acquiescence. <</if>> <</if>><</nobr>> <<page_break "Next" "datemcquestion">>

<<nobr>><<if ($troubleromanceflag >= 15) and ($attractedto != "women") and ($ace is false) and ($aroace is false)>> <<set $troublestatus to "You're practically two peas in a pod, though there are times you can't read him...">> You're just wrapping up the impromptu meal when a bright-eyed young woman in a city courier's uniform trots over to your table. You glance at her hands, expecting her to hand one of you a package or a letter, but Cordy looks up in recognition first and exclaims, "Tokaya! What are you doing here?" <br><br> "Dropping off a letter for Riel Syndran, O brother mine," she says familiarly, giving him a brief side-hug as she looks around your table with interest. ("Twins," Jalen tells you in an undertone. "She comes out with us to the bars when we're off-duty sometimes.") "Just thought I'd say hello on my way out—Jalen, Rov—hi, Vice-Commander Alder, nice to see you again." Her gaze alights on you, and she gives you her hand to shake. "Tokaya Andelthine, Griffin Dispatch courier, at your service. And you are?" <br><br> "<<c firstname>> <<c surname>>," you tell her. "<<c rank>>." <br><br> Tokaya's face brightens. "The Hero of Haven! My brother has the <i>biggest</i> crush on you." <br><br> Beside you, Trouble abruptly chokes on his drink, narrowly avoiding spewing cider across the table. Jalen, on his other side, has to thump him on the back as he struggles for breath. <br><br> You glance over at Cordy, who looks mortified, but seems to be taking it reasonably well; he merely looks annoyed with his sister. "Really? I… wasn't aware." <br><br> "We have a bet going on whether he'll ask you out to dinner before the year is out," Tokaya says cheerfully. "Has he done it yet?" <br><br> "<i>No</i>," Cordy interrupts then, shooing his sister away. "And your interference means the bet is <i>off</i>." He glances at you apologetically. "Sorry, <<c rank>>, pay no attention to her… my sister is insane, anyone can tell you. Right, Rovyn?" <br><br> "I'm not sure, I think she's on to something," Rovyn says serenely. <br><br> "Gods damn you." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Eye Cordy with interest. You might be interested in going out on a casual date with him sometime, though you don't think he's a serious romantic prospect.</div>' 'autogenerated_69078'>><<set $troubleromanceflag -= 7>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Remain professional. "Sorry, Cordy. It's against the rules for officers to fraternize with each other romantically."</div>' 'autogenerated_69079'>><<setloyal +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Let him down gently. "I'm flattered, but I don't think it's in the cards."</div>' 'autogenerated_69080'>><<settrouble +1>><<setcompassionate +1>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Let him down bluntly. "Sorry, not interested."</div>' 'autogenerated_69081'>><<setcharisma -1>><<setcompassionate -1>><<setcourage +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Reject him cruelly. "You think you could get <i>me</i> to go to dinner with <i>you</i>? I think you need to adjust your view of reality."</div>' 'autogenerated_69082'>><<setcharisma -5>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setloyal -5>><<settrouble -5>><<set $troubleromanceflag -= 15>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <<else>> <<set $troublestatus to "You're practically two peas in a pod.">> Later, when you're done wrapping up the meal and the cadets have departed back to their official duties, Trouble turns to you with a grin. "Want to go on a walk before I have to hop back to my mission reports?" he asks, shoving his hands in his pockets and lifting his brows. "Those guys are fun, but I haven't talked enough with you just yet." <br><br> So you venture out into the chilly courtyards together, braced as a unit against the biting wind. Trouble offers you his cloak, yelps and capers and shrieks against each frigid gust for your amusement, and even though your breaths form white mist in the air and your noses turn pink, you find that you don't mind the hour that passes before you head back inside. For some reason, from the minute Trouble saw you and waved you over with a grin, you've felt warmed through and through. <br><br> <<include "troubleover">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Cordy's look brightens when you indicate that you might be open to an outing at some point. "Wait, really? That's great. I'll, ah, check my schedule and… maybe I can come find you the next time our days off align." You nod as he hurries to clear his tray from your table, clearly trying to drag his friends and sister off before they get over their shock and erupt into a bout of shameless teasing. "Sounds good." Trouble is silent as you both also rise from the table and make your way to the tray return. When you glance at his face, his brow is knit and his expression looks tense and troubled, but he says nothing to you as you leave the refectory. After a moment, he mutters that he has to get back to his patrol—though you could have sworn that his afternoon was clear—and beats a hasty departure, still looking everywhere but you as he does so. You watch his broad-shouldered back, now slightly hunched and subdued, as he goes, unsure of what to make of his sudden change in attitude. Whatever's going through his head right now, all the sunshine of his mood when he first saw you has clearly evaporated… as if it had never been there in the first place. <<include 'troubleover'>>

"Of course, <<c rank>>," the former courier says quickly. "My sister's joking around, I never actually intended to—well. I swear I wasn't planning on crossing that line." "I believe you," you say, mostly to be kind, and it's only a few moments before they've cleared the table and Cordy has dragged his sister and giggling friends away. You turn back to Trouble, expecting a bout of his own teasing, but instead you find him looking thoughtful, his brow knit as if he's thinking very intensely about something. You raise a brow at him. "Danar for your thoughts?" Trouble stirs and blinks at you. "Huh? Oh… nothing." He tries to crack a smile, but it's a forced, half-crooked thing. "Want to get out of here? I could go for a walk before I have to hop back to my mission reports." You step outside together and pace the chilly courtyards, bracing yourself against the biting wind; but where Trouble would normally offer you his cloak or yelp and make an exaggerated display to make you laugh, he merely remains silent and pensive. He gives a few absent responses here and there, but when you glance at his face, you find it tense and troubled. Whatever's going through his head right now, all the sunshine of his mood when he first saw you has clearly evaporated… as if it had never been there in the first place. <<include 'troubleover'>>

The others blink at the abruptness of your response. "Of course, <<c rank>>," Cordy says after a moment, recovering quickly. "My sister's joking around, I never actually intended to—well. I swear I wasn't planning on crossing that line." "Uh-huh," you deadpan, raising a brow, and it's only a few awkward moments before they've cleared the table and Cordy has dragged his sister and giggling friends away, muttering profuse apologies to you all the while. You turn back to Trouble, expecting a bout of his own teasing, but instead you find him looking thoughtful, his brow knit as if he's thinking very intensely about something. You raise a brow at him. "Danar for your thoughts?" Trouble stirs and blinks at you. "Huh? Oh… nothing." He tries to crack a smile, but it's a forced, half-crooked thing. "Want to get out of here? I could go for a walk before I have to hop back to my mission reports." You step outside together and pace the chilly courtyards, bracing yourself against the biting wind; but where Trouble would normally offer you his cloak or yelp and make an exaggerated display to make you laugh, he merely remains silent and pensive. He gives a few absent responses here and there, but when you glance at his face, you find it tense and troubled. Whatever's going through his head right now, all the sunshine of his mood when he first saw you has clearly evaporated… as if it had never been there in the first place. <<include 'troubleover'>>

Trouble glances at you sharply, and the others all take a breath at the harshness of your response. Cordy, blinking rapidly and looking rather stupefied, says slowly, "Er… you're right, <<c rank>>, I'm sorry. I didn't actually intend… on crossing that line. We were just joking around." You arch a brow at him. "Well, it wasn't a very funny joke." The table is dead silent for a minute before the group of cadets finally clear their trays and straggle away, obviously subdued and startled by this turn of events. When you glance at Trouble, you find him staring back at you, his brow knit as if he's thinking very intensely about something. You tilt your head at him. "Danar for your thoughts?" Trouble blinks for a moment, then shakes his head and says, "God's teeth, <<c halfname>>, you didn't have to entertain him, but I don't think he did anything to warrant the insult." You shrug with a cool laugh. "I was only telling him the truth." Trouble continues to stare at you, his face tense and troubled. "Right." He remains silent as you both also rise from the table and make your way to the tray return. When you glance at his face, his brow is knit and his expression looks tense and troubled, but he says nothing to you as you leave the refectory. After a moment, he mutters that he has to get back to his patrol—though you could have sworn that his afternoon was clear—and beats a hasty departure, still looking everywhere but you as he does so. You watch his broad-shouldered back, now slightly hunched and subdued, as he goes, unsure of what to make of his sudden change in attitude. Whatever's going through his head right now, all the sunshine of his mood when he first saw you has clearly evaporated… as if it had never been there in the first place. <<include 'troubleover'>>

<<settrouble +3>> Trouble grins when he catches sight of you; he's halfway into shrugging into his battered, bright red coat, clearly intent on stepping outside. "I was just about to go find you," he remarks. "You've got some off-time right now, yeah? Want to join me on a walkabout?" You cock your head. "You mean like a patrol?" But you checked the roster earlier and saw that he doesn't have patrol duty today. Trouble shrugs. "Not <i>Shepherd</i> patrol," he clarifies. "We're not on the lookout for demons. But sometimes I like to take a stroll around the neighborhood and check that everything's all right. Keep an eye out, you know." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"What, like the Vice Guard? Shouldn't you leave that to them?"</div>' 'troublepatrol1'>><<setloyal -2>><<setcunning +1>><<settrouble -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Eugh, you're such a goody two-shoes. Sometimes I wonder why we even associate with each other."</div>' 'troublepatrol2'>><<setcompassionate -2>><<setloyal -2>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Aw, that's sweet of you. You're a regular hometown hero."</div>' 'troublepatrol3'>><<settrouble +1>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Sure, I'll come with you."</div>' 'troublepatrol4'>><<settrouble +1>><<setloyal +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Nah, that doesn't sound interesting to me."</div>' 'troublepatrolno'>><<settrouble -15>><<setloyal -5>><<setcompassionate -5>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $troubleromanceflag >= 5>> <<set $troubleromanceflag -= 5>> <</if>><</nobr>> Trouble's face falls, but his shrug is careless as he answers, "Suit yourself. See you later." He gives you an airy wave over his shoulder and disappears. <<include "troubleover">>

Trouble snorts. "You know they hardly ever come to this part of town," he tells you. "Besides, they wouldn't notice a problem unless it came and stuck a thumb up their ass. It's my neighborhood, and I grew up here, so I just like to keep my own eye on things." He smiles slightly at you and crooks his head. "Let's go!" <<include "troublepatrolcontinue">>

Trouble flashes you a sunny grin. "Well, seeing as how you were already looking for me, you clearly can't get enough," he teases. He slings a familiar, heavy arm around your shoulders. "Let's go!" <<include "troublepatrolcontinue">>

Trouble flashes you a grin. "Naw," he says modestly. "Well, it <i>is</i> my neighborhood, and I <i>did</i> grow up here, but I'm no hero. I just like to keep an eye on things." He slings a familiar, heavy arm around your shoulders. "Let's go!" <<include "troublepatrolcontinue">>

Trouble flashes you a grin. "Excellent," he says, slinging a familiar, heavy arm around your shoulders. "Let's go!" <<include "troublepatrolcontinue">>

The two of you step outside into a gorgeous <<nobr>><<if $part < 6>> autumn day, the wind chilly but tame and the scant leaves on the trees a cascade of scarlet, gold, and amber. <<elseif $part < 8>> winter day, the wind chilly but tame as the last few leaves of the season skitter along the streets in fluttering, reddish clouds. <<else>> spring day, the wind chilly but tame as winter releases its last pale grip on the cloudy afternoon sky. <</if>><</nobr>> Trouble pauses for a moment, just outside of the Shepherd gates, and hunches his shoulders against the cold snap of the breeze, rummaging in his pocket for a match to light the slim stick of charch currently clamped between his teeth. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $charch is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Join him in taking a walking smoke.</div>' 'troublesmoke1'>><</link>><</if>> <<if $astral >= 10>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Conjure a flame to light his charch for him.</div>' 'troublesmoke2'>><<setastral +1>><</link>><</if>> <<if $astral < 10>><div class="inactive-item">Conjure a flame to light his charch for him.</div><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Wait for him to finish.</div>' 'troublesmokecontinue'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

You withdraw your own stick of charch from the pack and hold it balanced against your lips, but before you can move to light it, <<nobr>><<if $troubleromanceflag >= 20>> Trouble is already casually leaning forward to touch the lit end of his charch against yours. You blink—it's a strangely intimate gesture, Trouble's nose just an inch from your own as he leans half-lidded into your personal space, and anyone watching would think he's bending forward to kiss you—but he seems to think nothing of it as he withdraws, the end of your charch now smoldering as he winks and turns away. <<elseif $trouble >= 70>> Trouble is already hurrying forward to light it for you with his own match. The two of you huddle close together for a moment, hunching your shoulders as you both cup your hands together and shield your flame against the wind. This close, you can feel the heat blazing from the blond sniper like a ray of sunlight against your side. <<else>> Trouble is already stretching his hand out and offering the flame of his own match. He gives you a quick nod at your thanks and walks on. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "troublesmokecontinue">>

<<nobr>><<if $troubleromanceflag >= 15>> <<set $troubleromanceflag += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> You snap your fingers together, producing a tiny flame that perches on the edge of your thumb and forefinger, and you casually stretch your hand out towards Trouble. Surprised, the blond sniper leans forward gratefully and uses your magical flame to light his charch. "Knew there was a reason I kept you around," he says with an easy laugh. <<nobr>><<if $troubleromanceflag >= 15>> For some reason, however, the glow of your "lighter" almost makes it seem as if his ruddy skin is concealing a slight blush. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "troublesmokecontinue">>

The two of you walk on, talking amiably as Trouble puffs away on his cigarette, trailing pale clouds of cherry-scented smoke. You're in the midst of comparing bruises from your latest training session with Blade and Ayla, respectively, when you pass by a little cart where an old man is selling roasted nuts and sugared yams, all nestled in a box full of hot, flat stones and dull red coals. He waves a crooked hand over to the pair of you, then thrusts a bag of roast chestnuts into Trouble's gloved palms, despite the sniper's half-hearted protests. "Ah, I keep telling you, you don't have to go to the trouble," Trouble grumbles around his charch, trying to forfend the jabs of the vendor's crabbed, gnarled hand. "Nonsense," the old man replies with a toothy grin. "Wouldn't have my grandson, if not for you. At least let me feed you, young troublemaker." "What was that about?" you ask as Trouble thanks the man and you continue on your way. He brushes it off with an airy wave. "Old Man Kennyth," he explains. "He's lived here forever. Likes to make sure I'm fed whenever I pass by on patrol, that's all." "But why did he say that thing about his grandson?" "Oh, that. This was some years ago, when I was still running with my gang, but one time I was walking past a house—that one, actually, the one on the corner with the slumped roof—when suddenly a lady burst out of it, yelling for help. Turned out her sister had gone into labor, and they didn't know where the midwife was, and they needed someone to sit with her while the sister ran to fetch someone to help. Suddenly I found myself just standing there in their house while this lady's in the tub screaming her lungs out and looking like she's about to pop all the veins in her head. They <i>said</i> all I had to do was keep an eye on her and let her hold my hand, but… well, one thing led to another… you know how these things go." He looks vaguely sheepish. "The baby arrived early. Slid right into my hands, really." "<i>What</i>?" "Yeah. That wasn't even the last time that happened, either…" Suddenly his attention is diverted by a worried-looking, middle-aged woman with a beautiful froth of curly black hair, standing on a covered stoop and wringing her hands in her skirt. "Everything all right, Miss Tremain?" "Oh, Trouble," she returns anxiously, biting her lip. She runs her plump hands over and over against her apron; judging by the flour on her sleeves, you'd guess she was a baker or a cook of some sort. "I didn't want to trouble you, not when you're so busy these days, but…" Trouble's look begins to cloud. "They back again?" The woman nods, the pale indent on her lip whitening even further as her teeth press down harder. Trouble shoots you an apologetic glance. "Sorry, <<c firstname>>. I gotta deal with something real quick." <<page_break "Next" "troublebackdoor">>

Without another word, he marches off to follow Miss Tremain, who, as it turns out, owns a small bakery with her family. You pass through the tiny bakery's front—filled with the smells of butter, sugar, and vanilla—and into its back kitchen, where three slender-necked young women (Miss Tremain's sisters?) are all huddled around a back door, peering anxiously out as if there's a wild animal in the alleyway outside. They turn and give you wide, goggle-eyed stares: they seem to be used to Trouble, but one of them nudges the other one and whispers, "<i>Who's that</i>?" The other sister shrugs. Without preamble, Trouble kicks open the back door of the kitchen and strides out into the alleyway, the look on his face set and surly. A group of gaunt, gangly youths are sprawled out back, draped over milk-crates or seated on top of garbage cans: they seem to be in the midst of playing some game involving bone-dice and chalk. They're a ragged-looking bunch, all in their late teens, most wearing chewed clothing with smudges of ash and dirt on their faces. A few have dark greasepaint smeared under their eyes, so that they look like hollow-cheeked, hungry raccoons. Many of them look up and flinch at Trouble's arrival, but you see some visibly forcing themselves not to react further, affecting a bored, languid attitude instead. "Oh, it's you again," a thin girl with short coal-black hair yawns, her attitude dry and mocking. However, her eyes glitter with a strange, feverish light when she glances at you. "Don't you have anything <i>better</i> to do? Or do all Shepherds go around looking to harass kids?" "I could ask you the same thing," Trouble retorts. "Didn't I tell you last time not to come back and bother these people? Ain't you got anywhere else to be?" As usual, his city burr thickens when talking to other Ashtown residents, his voice turning impatient and fast and slangy. Another youth with several clumsy piercings in his ears sneers at him. "Who says we're bothering them?" Trouble snorts. "<i>They</i> do." "Well, why? We're just drawing things." This elicits a chorus of snickers and knowing laughs from the other youths. Trouble does not look impressed. "It's not just drawing when you're making runes to summon demons and the like." You glance at him sharply, but while the look on his face is serious, he clearly doesn't view this as an actual credible threat. It's probably just a nuisance, a bunch of bored hooligans and delinquents terrorizing the local residents by trying to lay claim to occult forces they don't actually understand. From the look of the chalk "runes" on the ground, you'd surmise that this is basically just an elaborate game of pretend—but one that unnerves the Tremains and disturbs the peace of the neighborhood, especially when there are <i>actual</i> Imps and other demons running around. One never knows when even a fictitious symbol could attract an Endarkened, especially when there's malice behind it… The teens snicker again, all bravado and sneering adolescent swagger. The boy with studs in his ears says, "Piss off, Autarch's dog. We know about the Shepherds now. You can't do shit to us, 'cause we ain't demons." The look on Trouble's face darkens further, his jaw setting in that dangerous way that it does before his hair-trigger temper snaps. <<include "dontembarrassyourselfmc">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"That's where you're wrong. We pursue those who consort with demons, so we'd be well within our rights to arrest you."</div>' 'troublearrest'>><<setloyal +1>><<settrouble +1>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>> <<if ($psionic >= 20) and ($magic >= 45)>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Conjure an enormous illusion of a dragon made out of flames to chase them away.</div>' 'troubledragon'>><<setpsionic +1>><<setmagic +1>><<setcunning +1>><<settrouble +3>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($psionic < 20) or ($magic <45)>><div class="inactive-item">Conjure an enormous illusion of a dragon made out of flames to chase them away.</div><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("troublesmashthings")>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Start smashing things and kicking cans, screaming at the top of your lungs. That should scare them off.</div>' 'troublesmashthings'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Let Trouble do what he came here to do.</div>' 'troublescareskids'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Just leave them alone, Trouble. We both know they're not causing any real harm."</div>' 'troubledisagree'>><<settrouble -10>><<setloyal -10>><<setcourage -8>><<setcunning +1>><<setreputation -1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Trouble turns to give you his own golden-eyed glare, clearly disagreeing with you. Then he turns back to the youths. <<include "troublescareskids">>

The youth's grin fades by a few molars. "You—what?" "You think we only kill demons?" you repeat, as if he's slow. "You realize we also go after the people who summon them, right? Corrupt Mages, psychotic occultists… we do it all." You glance meaningfully at the runes on the ground. "And all of this, Vice-Commander Alder, certainly seems to meet our evidentiary threshold. The Autarch would want us to arrest them." The gang of teens all rise to their feet, wary now, but still hesitant. Many of them certainly look as if they'd rather flee, but they seem to be under instructions from their leaders not to break ranks. Trouble, catching on instantly to your ruse, says sternly to them, "This is why I bloody well told you to stay away the first time. Now it looks like there's no helping it." "That's right," you add. "He was looking out for you. Got a soft spot for street urchins, I guess. But now…" You shrug. "What do you say, sir? Put them in the dungeons and let the interrogators pick their minds apart?" Trouble makes a show of thinking on it, stroking his chin as he says, "I don't know… They're still just kids. And the last group we stuck in the dungeons disappeared. I heard something still lives down there, maybe in the pipes or some such." "Oh, those are just rumors." "Well, if you say so…" "W-wait," the coal-haired girl squeaks. "Wait, we ain't—<i>cultists</i>, or nothing like that. We were just having fun. Just… just let us go, and I <i>swear</i> we won't come back…" Trouble narrows his eyes at them for a long, drawn-out moment. The gang of teens all tremble like rabbits trying not to draw the notice of a hawk. Finally, he jerks his head in one succinct motion. "I won't warn you again. Now <i>get</i>." "You're lucky it was him this time," you shout after them as the teens all scramble to get out of the alley. "Thank your lucky stars it wasn't an Inquisitor!" When they're all out of sight, Trouble turns to you with a grin and gives you a hearty clap on the back. "That was well done," he says with a laugh. "Better than I could have done." <<include "troubleaftermath">>

You give the teens an eerie grin. "So, you fancy yourselves summoners, do you? I'm not sure you understand the forces you're tampering with. Let me show you how to summon something…" You begin an unsettling, macabre chant that's ultimately totally meaningless—but extremely theatrical. You even raise your arms in a series of mysterious gestures, like you're a puppeteer raising invisible marionettes on strings. Trouble, catching on instantly, gasps and says, "Wait, <<c firstname>>, <i>don't</i>. They're just kids, you don't need to…" The youths gawk in growing horror as your chant increases in volume, becoming harsher and more strident as your gestures become more violent and expansive. Trouble yells, "<<c firstname>>, stop!…" just as a flicker of light appears between your palms, dancing crazily as it grows and swells in size, ultimately ballooning into the giant, translucent form of a burning dragon with sinister eyes… "RUN!" One of the youths gives a high scream as he scrambles to get away from you, knocking over a trash can in his hurry. The rest of the gang promptly scatters, scrambling like a flock of startled pigeons and yelling in fright as your flaming illusion chases them away before eventually dissipating back into nothing. <<page_break "..." "troubledragonafter">>

Trouble can barely contain his laughter, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes as he says, "That was good, <<c halfname>>. I honestly thought that one with pierced ears was going to shit his pants." "That should teach them to stay away," you answer smugly as he gives you a clap on the back for your efforts. He grins. "Nicely done. I don't think I could have done better myself." <<include "troubleaftermath">>

<<nobr>><<if ($courage >= 80) and ($compassionate < 45)>> <<setcourage +1>><<setcompassionate -1>><<settrouble +1>> Your sudden outburst and fit of violent energy clearly takes the youths off-guard. They scramble back, wide-eyed, as you scream like a mad$woman, flailing your arms above your head and sending garbage cans flying. <br><br> "What the fuck?" The coal-haired girl sends a panicked look at the boy with studs in his ears. "Run!" <br><br> They scatter, scrambling to get away from you like a flock of startled pigeons. <br><br> Trouble bursts out laughing as soon as they're out of view. "That's one way to do it!" he exclaims, clapping you on the back. "That almost scared <i>me</i>." <br><br> "They were all bark without bite," you return with a grin, "so I figured I'd just bark louder." <br><br> "Well done," he says, amused. <br><br> <<include "troubleaftermath">> <<else>> <<set $troubleromanceflag -= 5>><<set $reputation -= 1>><<set $charisma -= 5>> You burst into a fit of violent energy, screaming like a mad$woman as you flail your arms and kick over a trash can. <br><br> ... <br><br> The youths stare at you, looking utterly perplexed, but they don't seem frightened. In fact, the few who don't look totally baffled are trying to hold back a laugh. <br><br> Trouble is staring at you, looking galled… or completely mortified to be associated with you. You're not entirely sure which. <<include "dontembarrassyourselfmc">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $troubleharden >= 3>> "<i>I</i> don't have to do shit," Trouble answers, his voice surprisingly calm and deliberate as he stares the youths down. Both the stud-earred boy and the dark-haired girl flinch and reluctantly look away from his hot, gold-blue gaze. "This is the Tremains' property. It's Miss Tremain's right to call the Vice Guard on you, or the Inquisitors, and <i>they</i> won't have any problem throwing the book at you. You ever see the inside of the Chrysalis? The interrogators in there don't take real kindly to people trying to summon demons to mess with good, law-abiding citizens. But even if it doesn't come to that…" He steps forward, making the youth closest to him jump and scrabble back in a panic, before he calmly reaches forward and wrenches a long wooden pole off of a nearby pallet. The youths' eyes go wide as saucers as Trouble casually twirls the pole in his hand like a bat, remarking off-handedly, "I've been giving Miss Tremain lessons, see. She's got the right to defend her family and her property, you know? And ain't no one gonna blink an eye if she ends up taking a swing at you if you don't skedaddle. And if she gets you…" <br><br> He swings the bat at the corner of the brick wall, forcing the male youth to hurriedly duck. The impact of his swing is so hard that it practically pulverizes the bat into a shower of wooden dust. <br><br> "…You'll wish you'd listened to me and kept to your own part of town," he finishes in a deadly tone. "Now <i>get</i>." <br><br> The youths promptly hop to their feet and scurry out of the alleyway, wide-eyed and yelping with terror. <br><br> <<page_break "..." "troubleaftermath">> <<else>> <<set $troubleharden -= 1>> Trouble doesn't say another word. He just strides forward calmly, utterly expressionless, bends down, grabs the male youth by the back of the shirt and the back of the belt… and bodily heaves the teen out of the alleyway, like he's tossing a log battering ram at a door. The youth disappears out into the street with a faint scream. <br><br> The silent, perfunctory motion is all that's needed to send the rest of the gang scrambling. Wide-eyed and yelping with fear, they scurry out of the alleyway and disappear, though not before Trouble extracts a promise from the coal-haired girl not to come back. <br><br> <<page_break "..." "troubleaftermath">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Miss Tremain and her sisters thank you profusely, pressing custard buns and cinnamon rolls wrapped in wax paper into your hands as thanks for your troubles—but you're not back on the street for longer than a few minutes before another old woman flags Trouble down to ask him for help putting her shelves up. He makes familiar chitchat with her regarding a nephew currently enlisted in the Army as he does so, while you sip tea made from tea leaves so crumbled they might as well be dust. Then he helps a harried-looking father coax down a cat from a tree—then stops to intervene in an argument between a hard-headed shoemaker and his sniveling apprentice— By the time Trouble's charch is down a glowing, lip-blistering bud, you're as exhausted as if you'd worked a full shift on patrol. The sharpshooter casts you another apologetic glance and says, with heartfelt sincerity: "…I'm sorry, <<c halfname>>. I really did want to spend time with you. I just thought there'd be one or two things that'd need my attention, but it's extra busy today." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You smile at him. "There's nothing to apologize for. I just had no idea you ran around doing all of this. Frequently, it seems."</div>' 'autogenerated_69083'>><<settrouble +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Tuck your hand into the crook of his arm. "What are you talking about? I'm enjoying this time with you just as much as I would if we were doing something else."</div>' 'autogenerated_69084'>><<settrouble +1>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Grin and elbow him. "Are you kidding me? I'm just enjoying not having all the attention on me for once. You seem more like the 'Hero of Haven' right now, not me."</div>' 'autogenerated_69085'>><<settrouble +1>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Give a long-suffering sigh. "Yeah, I wasn't really expecting my time off to turn into <i>more</i> work."</div>' 'autogenerated_69086'>><<set $troubleromanceflag -= 5>><<settrouble -5>><<setloyal -5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Roll your eyes at him. "I never pictured you to be the kind of sap to run around doing extra work for people... for <i>free</i>. What are you getting out of this?"</div>' 'autogenerated_69087'>><<setcompassionate -7>><<setcharisma -5>><<setcunning +5>><<settrouble -10>><<set $troublerelationship -= 10>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

He smiles ruefully. "Guess so. I hardly even think of it, so I guess I never mention it, either. It all just sort of… happened, I guess." <<include 'troublepast1'>>

<<nobr>><<if $troubleromanceflag >= 10>> <<set $troubleromanceflag += 1>> <</if>> <</nobr>> He smiles at you, tipping his head fondly against yours as you snuggle closer, feeling the roughness of his jaw against your cheek. "That's because you're the best," he tells you affectionately. "Still, you shouldn't be stuck doing errands like this on your time off." "But you do it," you tell him. He gives a rueful grimace. "Yeah, but it's not like I meant to, either. It all just sort of… happened, I guess." <<include 'troublepast1'>>

Trouble laughs. "<i>Hardly</i>. I'm just a guy trying to make up for things. I owe them my help." <<include 'troublepast1'>>

He sighs, too, looking regretful. "Like I said, I'm sorry. But I can't just tell them no, either, not when they're looking for my help. I sort of… owe them, I guess." <<include 'troublepast1'>>

He gives you a strange glance. "I wouldn't take their coin even if they offered it," he returns, sounding almost offended at the idea. "Which some of them have. But—it's not like that. It all just sort of… happened this way, I guess." <<include 'troublepast1'>>

He shrugs at your curious look. "You know about my past," he says, looking more thoughtful as he shoves his hands into his pockets, gazing out at the avenue you're walking down. "I used to be—not <i>exactly</i> like those kids outside of the Tremains' bakery, but I was sort of like that. Maybe arguably even worse. You know Old Man Kennyth, who gave us the nuts? I used to steal cakes from his shop, before he retired and left it to his son-in-law. And the shoemaker, Mr. Turnstone—one time I passed out on his porch from a concussion I got in a street-brawl." He winces at the memory, though it seems to be more embarrassment than pain. "They all knew me when I was growing up. Saw what a real kakhead I was. So when I came back to the city, I tried to make it up to them. Tried to help them out when they needed it, keep an eye out on the neighborhood where I could. This place's seen enough trouble, some of it caused by me. So it's like my penance or something, I guess." You think back to all of the people you've helped today, the clear fondness and trust and relief you see in their eyes when they see Trouble ambling down the street, there to be flagged down for help with all of their little problems. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I don't think they see it as penance, like you owe them anything. I think they just genuinely rely on you and are glad to have you around."</div>' 'autogenerated_69088'>><<settrouble +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"That's bullshit. You were a teenager back then. You don't owe them anything now. They're taking advantage of you, your good nature, and your guilt."</div>' 'autogenerated_69089'>><<settrouble -10>><<setcompassionate -5>><<setloyal -5>><<setcunning +5>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

It's clear that Trouble has naturally earned the respect and admiration of a lot of people in the community, perhaps without even realizing it; he just steps in to help in that careless, unthinking way of his. Their regard for him is obvious from the way they worry after his health, try to feed him, and call him affectionate nicknames like "troublemaker" and "young soldier." He's become a figure for them to depend on, a kind of sheriff for these parts. Trouble's lips twitch upwards when you tell him this. "I think you have a much more flattering picture of me than they do," he admits dryly. "They've seen me at my worst: drunk and brawling, young and cussing and full of spitfire. It's not like I'm a real upstanding figure to them, with all that." <<include 'troublepastresponse'>>

Trouble grimaces. "Maybe it looks that way to you," he says slowly. "But I don't mind it, honestly. I like to help, where I can." <<include 'troubletoddlerscene'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"If you say so..."</div>' 'troubletoddlerscene'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You're really hard on yourself, you know that?"</div>' 'autogenerated_69090'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I don't know, Trouble. I feel like they'd make you mayor, if they could."</div>' 'autogenerated_69091'>><<set $troubleharden += 2>><<set $trouble_tolerancepolitics to true>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

He laughs, seeming delighted. "<i>Someone's</i> got to be," he says jokingly. "With the way you talk me up, I'd be strutting around with an ego like the Autarch's if I didn't keep myself humble." <<include 'troubletoddlerscene'>>

The sniper barks out an incredulous laugh. "<i>What</i>? Where did that come from?" "Well, they clearly look to you as a leader," you persist, warming to the idea. "A pillar of the community. <<nobr>><<if $heritage is "Norm">> People looked at my father the same way, and <i>he</i> was mayor. <<elseif $heritage is "Elf" or $heritage is "Ket">> People looked at my father the same way. <</if>><</nobr>> And you're passionate about looking after the downtrodden, addressing corruption and how Haven's leadership is out-of-touch with its commonfolk… You know this city, down to your bones. You could become its advocate…" "No, no, no," Trouble says, shaking his head, though he seems more amused by the idea than anything. "<<c halfname>>, being Vice-Commander is bad <i>enough</i>. Having all these puppy-dog recruits looking at me with their big wet eyes is enough responsibility. Don't go mixing me up in something I'm not equipped for." "But you <i>are</i> equipped for it, that's what I'm saying," you point out. "You're a natural leader, charismatic, heroic—that's part of why Blade made you Vice-Commander, you know, because you naturally stir up people's loyalty and inspire them…" "Do you <i>hear</i> yourself? I'm a gunfighter with a temper problem, not a—a politicker like Riel, or some big speech-maker or strategist like <<nobr>><<if $lavinetjoin is true>> you or Lavinet…" <<else>> you…" <</if>><</nobr>> He laughs suddenly. "I don't think I'd last five minutes in a debate with some snooty Consortium bigwig before I threw his paperweight at him." <<include 'youcoulddoittrouble'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Yeah, maybe you're right..."</div>' 'autogenerated_69092'>><<set $troubleharden -= 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Just think about it, will you?"</div>' 'autogenerated_69093'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You could learn to deal with that. I have faith in you."</div>' 'autogenerated_69094'>><<set $troubleharden += 1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

He snorts. "No <i>maybe</i> about it. It's nice of you, <<c halfname>>, but it's also the most hare-brained thing I've ever heard…" <<include 'troubletoddlerscene'>>

He gives you a sidelong glance. "Not much to think about… but I guess I will," he says, sounding somewhat nonplussed. <<include 'troubletoddlerscene'>>

Trouble does a double-take, seeming to regard you more thoughtfully. "You definitely do," he says slowly. "Though why that is, I'll never know…" <<include 'troubletoddlerscene'>>

At that precise moment, you feel a silent tugging on your cloak, somewhere at calf level. You glance down and are surprised to find a nondescript toddler of around two or three years of age staring up at you in expectant silence. On your other side, Trouble is similarly confronted by a child who's about four years old, with a tumble of messy dark curls and a red scrape on one chubby cheek. "Twubble!" the child shouts, raising his arms up at the blond sniper. "Ride! Gimme a ride!" "Ah…" Trouble snaps his gloved fingers together. "…You're Ansel, right? Your, ah, your mum is Angeta?" "My mummy is my mummy!" "No, but—your brother's… Helven?" "VEN! BIG BROTHER VEN!" "Yeah, that's it. Where's your parents? Or your brother?" The little boy raises his arms again in expectant demand. "RIDE!" Trouble blows out a long breath, then shoots you another apologetic look. "Sorry, <<c firstname>>. This won't take but a minute. They live down the block." He stoops easily and offers the tiny boy his broad back; Ansel happily climbs aboard, wrapping his tiny arms around Trouble's neck. Trouble hefts him playfully as he stands and says, "Oof. You're getting too heavy for this, kid." "NO I'M NOT!" Ansel pokes him in the cheek. "You're big and strong! You can carry me! You used to do push-ups with Ven on your back!" "I dunno, you seem like you're getting bigger than Ven…" "YEAH!" You turn back to the silent toddler standing at your side, holding a handful of your cloak in one chubby fist with something close to a death-grip. The toddler stares up at you with bland anticipation, clearly expecting you to pick her up as well. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if not hasVisited("toddleruhhh")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh..."</div>' 'toddleruhhh'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Cringe back in distaste. Absolutely not.</div>' 'autogenerated_69095'>><<set $troubleromanceflag -= 5>><<settrouble -5>><<setcompassionate -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Pick up the child and set her on your hip. You're perfectly comfortable with small children.</div>' 'autogenerated_69096'>><<setcompassionate +1>><<settrouble +3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Awkwardly pick up the child by the armpits, holding her at arm's length. This is how you do this, right?</div>' 'autogenerated_69097'>><<settrouble +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Stiffly and uncomfortably, you make to follow Trouble, avoiding picking up the tiny creature. Without comment, she simply toddles after you, still clutching the end of your trailing cloak. <<include 'troublechildrentalk'>>

<<nobr>><<if $troubleromanceflag >= 15>> <<set $troubleromanceflag += 3>> <</if>> <</nobr>> Instantly, the toddler snuggles against your shoulder, grabbing a fistful <<nobr>><<if $hairlength is not "close-cropped">> of your hair in the process. <<else>> of your collar in the process. <</if>><</nobr>> She feels warm and soft and smells of something downy and clean, though her hand is slightly sticky with something like syrup or honey. Trouble shoots you a <<nobr>><<if $troubleromanceflag >= 20>> fond look and a warm smile as he keeps Ansel balanced on his back, his eyes soft with some emotion before he glances away. <<else>> rueful grin, as if to say, <i>Look at the pair of us now, huh?</i> <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'troublechildrentalk'>>

<<nobr>><<if $troubleromanceflag >= 20>> <<set $troubleromanceflag += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> Trouble snickers at the sight of you holding the unresisting toddler like she has an infectious disease, her little feet dangling in the air as you shuffle hesitantly forward. "Nice, <<c halfname>>." You shoot him a glare. "I can't help it if I'm not used to kids," you answer defensively. "That's fair, but she ain't gonna bite you." You look dubiously at the toddler, who stares back blankly. "Hmmm." <<include 'troublechildrentalk'>>

The child stares at you with fathomless dark eyes, her face adorably round and utterly devoid of conscious thought. You'll find no answers there. <<include "troubletoddlerscene">>

As you walk, you observe the way Trouble casually makes chitchat with Ansel, who's a burbling fount of nonsense and occasional fragments of gossip, which Trouble entertains with indulgent hums. After a moment, you can't help but remark, "You're really good with kids." He throws a smile at you. "Guess I am. Kind of hoping I'd have some of my own, some day." <<nobr>><<if $troubleromanceflag >= 15>> For some reason, the thought makes your heart hurt. <</if>><</nobr>> "You'd be a great dad." "Thanks." <<nobr>><<if $troubleromanceflag >= 15>> He shoots you another fond look. <<else>> He shoots you a curious look. <</if>><</nobr>> "And you? You ever think about…?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I could see myself being a parent someday."</div>' 'troubleparentskidsa'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I've always wanted to be a parent."</div>' 'troubleparentskidsa'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I want to have <i>lots</i> of kids. A big family."</div>' 'troubleparentskidsa'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I don't know. I've never really thought about it."</div>' 'troublekidsresponse'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'll be happy no matter how life turns out."</div>' 'troublekidsresponse'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I don't want kids. I'm not cut out for it."</div>' 'troubleparentskidsb'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'll never have kids. Ever."</div>' 'troubleparentskidsb'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<if $troubleromanceflag >= 15>> <<set $troubleromanceflag += 1>> <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "troublekidsresponse">>

<<nobr>><<if $troubleromanceflag >= 15>> <<set $troubleromanceflag -= 5>><</if>><</nobr>> Trouble looks at you sidelong, looking thoughtful. "That so?" he says. "I guess it's better to know that about yourself than not…" <<include "troublekidsfound">>

Trouble's lips quirk as he looks over at you. "Ah, <<c firstname>>, you'd be great at it," he assures you. <<nobr>><<if $troubleromanceflag >= 15 and $attractedto is not "women">> Then his eyes cut away from you, and his voice sounds oddly wistful as he continues, "Whoever you, ah, marry is going to be a real lucky person. You're brilliant, and…" <br><br> But his voice falters and trails off awkwardly. He stares off into the distance, the look on his face suddenly complicated. He seems almost conflicted. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You almost sound as if the thought makes you sad."</div>' 'autogenerated_69098'>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Whoever marries <i>you</i> will be the lucky one."</div>' 'autogenerated_69099'>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Who says I'm going to get married at all?"</div>' 'autogenerated_69100'>><<set $troubleromanceflag -= 3>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <<elseif $cainejoin is true>> "I mean, just look at how you are with Caine." He chuckles suddenly. "Though I wonder if he'd be a bit jealous, if you had your own little duckling running around…" <br><br> <<include "troublekidsfound">> <<else>> "Though I'm not sure if this city could take a litter of bright-eyed little Heroes of Haven running around…" <br><br> "Hey, what is <i>that</i> supposed to be mean?" <br><br> "Nothing… just… if weird stuff tends to happen around <i>you</i>… imagine what it'd be like if you had multiple mini-versions of you…" <br><br> <<include "troublekidsfound">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Trouble laughs, but somehow the sound is an unhappy one. "Well, maybe a little," he admits. "Because if you do get married, we can't be like <i>this</i>, can we?" He rotates his neck in a vague, encircling gesture. "I don't think it'd be right." "What do you mean?" The sniper turns his head to stare steadfastly into the distance, his tread stolid and unwavering. Still, the back of his neck is crimson. "…Never mind." <<include 'troublemarriageresponse'>>

But the look he gives you is a pained, unhappy one. "Maybe so," he says with a sigh, suddenly sounding dejected. "But what if the one I wanna marry is…" Abruptly, he cuts himself off. You raise your brow at him, even as the little girl you're holding stirs restlessly and tightens her grip. "Is…?" Trouble shoots you a suddenly panicked glance. "Er…" <<include 'troublekidsfound'>>

Trouble blinks, then shakes his head and shoots you a small smile. "Guess that's true," he says humorously. "And it's not like you <i>have</i> to…" <<include 'troublekidsfound'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I don't want anything to change between us, Trouble. Ever."</div>' 'autogenerated_69101'>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"We'll always be friends, Trouble. No matter what."</div>' 'autogenerated_69102'>><<set $troubleromanceflag -= 7>><</link>> <<if $courage >= 65>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Nothing would have to change if we got married to each other, you know."</div>' 'autogenerated_69103'>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 3>><<setcourage +1>><</link>><</if>> <<if $courage < 65>><div class="inactive-item">"Nothing would have to change if we got married to each other, you know."</div><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"What, you mean no more sharing a blanket in front of the fire, or sitting on your lap, or..."</div>' 'autogenerated_69104'>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Trouble blows out a breath and turns to you, and the look on his face makes your heart twist. He looks like he's in pain; his expression is deeply unhappy. "<<c firstname>>…" <<include 'troublekidsfound'>>

Trouble gives you a smile, though the look seems forced and tight. "…Yeah. 'Course we will." <<include 'troublekidsfound'>>

Trouble jerks suddenly, as if something kicked him in the head. Ansel gives a shriek of delight from his back as the sniper visibly staggers. "Yeah, suppose so," he says faintly after a moment, still looking anywhere but you. The back of his neck is even redder. "But… wouldn't you… I mean…" From the rigid way he's suddenly standing, the poor man looks like his heart is about to give out. <<include 'troublekidsfound'>>

The back of Trouble's neck flushes further. "<<c halfname>>!" You widen your eyes in mock-innocence. "What?" "Sounds sort of indecent, when you put it like that…" <<include 'troublekidsfound'>>

"Ansel!" Just then, two older children come running up, both about nine or ten. One resembles the two toddlers currently in your care, with a dark, helmet-like fringe falling over one of his blue eyes and large gaps in his snub-nosed grin; the other is a scrawny-looking girl with orange pigtails and sharp knees and elbows, looking flyaway and frantic. The boy—whom you guess is Ansel's older brother, Helven—runs his hands through his hair in relief as he slides to a stop in front of Trouble, panting with exertion. "Oh, thank the Sun you found them! I've been runnin' around everywhere, yelling my head off!" "BIG BRO!" Ansel slides off of Trouble's back with glee, and you pass over the silent babe in your arms to the orange-haired girl, who thanks you with a murmur. "I saw Twubble!" "They were down the street," Trouble tells the young boy, his voice gentle but somewhat stern. "I'm guessing you were supposed to be watching them?" Helven nods, still trying to catch his breath. He only looks somewhat sheepish as he admits, "Yeah, and I was doing real good! But then Elorie here came by to show me something… we weren't more than ten feet away from the house, you know…" "…But you left the door open, and they got out without you seeing." Trouble shakes his head in disapproval. "That could have been real bad, kid." "I know, I know. Thanks for finding them!" Abruptly, Helven seems to notice you and gawks. "Who's <<nobr>><<if $troubleromanceflag >= 20>> <i>that</i>? That your <<if $gender is "female">>girlfriend?<<elseif $gender is "male">>boyfriend?<<else>>sweetheart?<</if>>" <br><br> Trouble chokes abruptly, while you hide a smile. "<<c she>><<nobr>><<if $plural is true>>'re<<else>>'s<</if>><</nobr>> my partner," he answers, his voice gruff. <br><br> "Like your Shepherd partner, or your life partner?" the orange-haired girl chimes in blithely. <br><br> Trouble's voice becomes somewhat strangled. "My... my..." His eyes dart toward you; all cogent thoughts seem to have flown out of his head. "My <i>everything</i> partner, I guess," he manages finally. <br><br> Helven and his friend turn to each other with huge grins. "Oooooooh!" <br><br> "Oooooh!" little Ansel mimics. <br><br> Trouble claps a hand over his face. "Wait... that's not..." He looks helplessly at you. <br><br> "I'm the Hero of Haven," you put in with a smile, finally coming to his rescue. <br><br> <<include "troublekidsrescue1">> <<else>> that?" <br><br> "That," Trouble says theatrically, "is my friend, the Hero of Haven <<print $them>>self." <br><br> <<include "troublekidsrescue2">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<set $troublestatus to "You've seen a different side of him that few take notice of.">><</nobr>>Immediately, you find yourself crowded by Helven, his friend, Ansel, and the little silent toddler, bombarded and pelted with rapid-fire questions. Trouble mouths a silent apology at you from over the tops of their heads, and later, when you've finally extracted yourself and Trouble is hustling you away with the promise of a quiet, private meal on the Market Quarter waterfront, he puts an easy hand on the small of your back and says, "You're a gem for that. But you know that word is gonna spread, and <i>everyone</i> in that neighborhood is gonna start getting ideas, right?" You glance over at him, leaning into his touch. "Doesn't bother me. Does it bother you?" Trouble looks at you for a long moment, his blue-gold eyes wondering and thoughtful. His hand on your back is almost reverent as he traces some invisible design against your skin: an absent gesture or a wistful mark of ownership? You can't say for sure. Finally, Trouble cracks a slow grin at you, the look as hesitant and warming as the dawn. "No," he admits eventually. "...Can't say I mind at all." <<include "troubleover">>

He gives you a sly, mischievous smirk as you're immediately crowded by Helven, his friend, Ansel, and the little silent toddler, bombarded and pelted by an array of rapid-fire questions. It's only when you're able to extract yourself and Trouble is hustling you away that you're able to turn and glare at him. "Is there a reason why you went and told them that?" "Well, it's the truth, first of all," he says with a laugh. "And if what you've been saying is true, I figure I ought to share some of the attention, you know? Why make a fuss over me when they've got a <i>real</i> celebrity in their midst?" "But <i>you're</i> their hero, not me," you protest. He winks at you as you fall into step together. "Well, then you're mine," he answers. "Not least because you get me out of crowds of kids with unwanted questions." You look at him sidelong. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You owe me one."</div>' 'autogenerated_69105'>><<set $troublestatus to "You've seen a different side of him that few take notice of.">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You can't hide in the shadows forever, Trouble."</div>' 'autogenerated_69106'>><<set $troublestatus to "You've seen a different side of him that few take notice of.">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Well... it is about time people around here start recognizing me. I can't have you hogging all the limelight."</div>' 'autogenerated_69107'>><<set $troublestatus to "You've seen a different side of him that few take notice of.">><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

He claps you on the shoulder. "That I do! And I'll repay that debt right now. Let me buy you a meal." He cracks a grin at you. "And I promise, it'll be one that's far away from here." The two of you walk off together, perfectly in sync. <<include 'troubleover'>>

He shrugs carelessly. "Ain't trying to, <<c firstname>>," he returns, fishing in his pocket for another stick of charch. "Just giving credit where it's due." Then he claps you on the shoulder. "Now, come on. I owe you a meal." He cracks a cheeky grin at you. "And I promise, it'll be one that's far away from here." The two of you walk off together, perfectly in sync. <<include 'troubleover'>>

Trouble laughs. "Exactly." Then he claps you on the shoulder. "Now, come on. I owe you a meal." He cracks a cheeky grin at you. "And I promise, it'll be one that's far away from here." The two of you walk off together, side by side. <<include 'troubleover'>>

<<settrouble +3>><<set $troubleinjury to false>>You actually haven't seen Trouble around in the last few days, maybe even the last week or so. Perfectly normal when it comes to your other companions—rotating shifts, long missions in the field, and general other preoccupations can mean that sometimes you only glimpse each other for a meal or a hallway chat, like ships passing each other in and out of a harbor—but somehow it's less so with Trouble. <<nobr>><<if $troubleromanceflag gte 20>> Somehow you always seem to be in each other's orbit: unless one of you is literally out of the city, it's rare that a day will pass where he doesn't playfully rumple your hair as he walks through the room you're working in, or he doesn't catch your elbow in his ribs for some stupid, laughing remark, or you don't stay up late in one of the common rooms, the ice clinking in your glasses as you argue amiably over your opinions on music or a book he passed to you or the nature of Time itself. Pure conversations and time spent together, jibes and banter and unrestrained, unthinking affection, almost adolescent in their all-consuming ease, where he'll casually move your outstretched legs into his lap as he sits down beside you rather than asking you to make room on the couch, or you'll fish into his pocket for a matchbook as you walk without skipping a beat in your conversation. <br><br> But it has not been so, lately. You haven't thought enough about it to outright check, but you could swear he isn't on an away mission at the moment. And yet you haven't seen him for the last few days. And you almost wonder if Trouble is being <i>careful</i> with you lately. It almost feels as if something's changed, but you can't be sure. There have seemed to have been moments where, instead of pinching your cheeks and stretching them out to annoy you or bumping your foreheads together or mockingly calling each other <i>sweetie</i> or <i>love</i> or <i>pet</i>—he's almost seemed to shy away instead, his hands suddenly retreating into their pockets, his broad shoulders hunching, his eyes sliding away from yours. The laughing ease seems to have become a little stilted, of late. But you can't be sure. It all might be in your imagination. <br><br> Still, the thought of it leaves a tight, uneasy, helpless pain in your chest, sometimes: a faint anxiety that you can't quite pinpoint or name. Today, you decide to firmly shove that feeling aside and seek him out. <i>Everything is normal</i>, you tell yourself sternly as you set out from the Shepherd gates. You will see him, he'll light up and grin and call out to you as gaily as a summer youth waiting in a tree for his friend, and you'll know that everything is just fine. <<else>> Maybe it's because he's Vice-Commander, but somehow you always seem to be in each other's orbit: he's been there from the start, has been backing you up with his warm, steady, solid presence since the very first day you were recruited. You've gotten used to him just always being <i>there</i>, stout and familiar—and yet, you suppose, it's also not something to be taken for granted. His absence the last few days has been more noticeable than you might have expected. Today, seeing that he's not on the roster for away missions, you decide once again to seek him out. <</if>><</nobr>> After checking a few of the usual haunts, you decide to head over to the Burning Crown, on the off-chance that Trouble is relaxing with a pint there. Nessa, the server, lights up at the sight of you: you and Trouble have become a familiar sight in these parts, even (or especially) after the incident with Lazu Reen. "<<c firstname>>!" she says with pleasure. "Looking for Trouble?" You nod, glancing around as you sidle closer to the bar. The tavern is about half-full, brisk but not crammed, as dockworkers and merchants talk at their leisure while on their lunch breaks. "I am. Has he been here lately?" "Not today, but I'm actually expecting him in a bit. He said he'd pick something up for me on one of his patrols to the Market Quarter and drop it off this afternoon." She gestures for you to sit at the bar while you wait, disappearing into the back to fetch you a drink and a snack. While she's gone, another server who's seen you before—you think his name is Rory or something like that—emerges and gives you a surprised look. "Oh, hello," he says, giving you an amiable nod. "Where's your pal?" "Looking for him, actually," you reply, accepting a goblet from Nessa with a nod of thanks. "Right." He eyes you for another moment before asking curiously, "Is it really true that he used to be some kind of ganglord around Ashtown? And a prize-fighter down by the docks?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You'd have to ask him that."</div>' 'roryshakeshishead'>><<setloyal +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Yup, that's all true."</div>' 'roryshakeshishead'>><<setcourage +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I think 'ganglord' is a little strong... He ran with a gang of street urchins because he grew up as an orphan in Ashtown, if that's what you mean. It wasn't exactly a criminal empire."</div>' 'roryshakeshishead'>><<setcharisma +1>><<setintelligence +1>><<settrouble -3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Nah, stories like that are always overblown."</div>' 'roryshakeshishead'>><<setcunning +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Rory shakes his head wonderingly. "How'd a guy like that end up working for the Shepherds, anyway?" Nessa casts him a warning glance as you look up. "What do you mean?" The server shrugs his shoulders, making a placating gesture to indicate that he doesn't mean offense. "Just heard some things, that's all. Kind of surprising that they picked a Norm roughneck to be second-in-command of a bunch of Diminished fighters, you know? It's just not what one would expect. For one thing, he's not exactly <i>one of you</i>. How's he going to relate to your troubles, how people look at you and things? For another, surely you're all far stronger than him. Why would some big strapping Ket or an Elf who's lived a thousand years take orders from an underdog like him?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $rank is "Commander">><<link '<div class="choice-item">"I don't take orders from him."</div>' 'autogenerated_69108'>><<setloyal -1>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"No one seems to have an issue with it. Trouble's a likeable guy as well as a capable leader."</div>' 'autogenerated_69109'>><<settrouble +1>><<setloyal +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Don't underestimate him: Trouble is far from average. You know he's a magically-augmented sniper, right?"</div>' 'autogenerated_69110'>><<setcunning -3>><<settrouble -5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"It's actually a smart move, if you think about it. The Shepherds are supposed to be the bridge between regular civilians and the supernatural. Who better to help lead them than someone from the commonfolk? It helps make us seem trustworthy, instead of alienating the locals."</div>' 'autogenerated_69111'>><<setcharisma +1>><<setintelligence +1>><<setcunning +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Huh, now that you think about it, it <i>is</i> pretty weird."</div>' 'autogenerated_69112'>><<settrouble -3>><<setloyal -5>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Nessa muffles a laugh at your bland response, while Rory blinks slowly, clearly not understanding the significance of your comment. "Well, if not you, most recruits," he continues gamely, a bit flustered. But he's clearly lost the thread of the conversation, so you move on. <<include 'howdoyouknowtroubleanyway'>>

Rory makes a skeptical sound, looking at you sidelong. "That so? Well, maybe I misunderstood things, then..." <<include 'howdoyouknowtroubleanyway'>>

Nessa looks over at you with a frown, while Rory blinks in surprise, his mouth forming a low, awed whistle. "No," he says thoughtfully, shaking his head. "I didn't know that." <<include 'howdoyouknowtroubleanyway'>>

Rory rubs his jaw thoughtfully. "Guess I never thought about it like that," he admits. <<include 'howdoyouknowtroubleanyway'>>

Nessa snorts to herself just as Rory nods sagely. "See? That's why I was asking." <<include 'howdoyouknowtroubleanyway'>>

A little while later he asks, "How do you know him, anyway? Like, how'd you two meet?" You stare at him. "Through the Shepherds. He was already Vice-Commander when I was recruited." The man's eyebrows shoot up. He's bald, with a beaky face, so the effect makes him look a bit like a startled rodent. "Really? I thought maybe you'd met in school, or grown up together, or..." "He didn't go to school. And I came to Haven for the first time last year. We'd never met each other before that." "You're not related or something?" Rory presses, seeming baffled. Now it's your turn to raise your eyebrows. "...No, not at all." <<nobr>><<if $troubleromanceflag gte 20>>"Oh. But I thought... you seem..." He looks utterly nonplussed. "I mean, that's what I thought at first, just from the facts, but you seem so close, like you've known each other for ages, so I thought maybe you were old friends after all. But if you're not..." He trails off, staring at you still, before he adds, "...What are you to each other, then?" <br><br> Nessa nudges him sharply, but your only response is to sigh. You've both been getting this question a lot, from a lot of different people. Your relationship to Trouble seems to mystify others who don't know you that well: it's a closeness that seems to refuse conventional categorization. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"We're best friends."</div>' 'autogenerated_69113'>><<settrouble +5>><<set $troubleromanceflag -= 3>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"We're partners."</div>' 'autogenerated_69114'>><<settrouble +5>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 2>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"We just work together, for goodness's sake."</div>' 'autogenerated_69115'>><<set $troubleromanceflag -= 10>><<setloyal +5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"We just hit it off well, I suppose."</div>' 'autogenerated_69116'>><<settrouble +1>><<set $troubleromanceflag -= 5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Honestly, I have no idea."</div>' 'autogenerated_69117'>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 1>><<settrouble +1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <<else>> "Oh," Rory says, still totally bemused. "Only because you seem like such old friends, and all. But don't you ever get jealous?" <br><br> You chuckle at the thought. "Why ever would we?" <br><br> <<if $rank is "Commander">> "Well, you were made Commander, weren't you, even though he'd been there longer? He was sort of passed over in favor of you. No offense. If I were in his position, I'd have some hard feelings about that." <<else>> "Well, he's Vice-Commander, isn't he, so sort of your superior, so I wondered if that caused any hard feelings sometimes, you being that much stronger, and the Hero of Haven to boot, and all." <</if>> <br><br> How to explain to this nosy bartender all of the different variables playing into your particular situation, how <<if $rank is "Commander">>Trouble never wanted your role, <<else>> how you never wanted Trouble's role, <</if>> or how the difference in rank between you never once crossed your minds? <br><br> But before you can decide what to say, Nessa elbows Rory aside with a quelling look. <<include "howstroubledoinganyway">> <</if>><</nobr>>

Trouble is one of your closest friends in the world, your relationship so seamless and unthinking that it almost seems silly to put a word to it. Rory pulls a puzzled face when you tell him this, but seems to accept your answer. <<include 'nessaasksabouttrouble'>>

But Rory pulls a bemused face at this, not understanding exactly what you mean. <<include 'nessaasksabouttrouble'>>

Rory nods slowly, still looking mystified, but seems to accept this. <<include 'nessaasksabouttrouble'>>

But Rory just pulls a puzzled face at this, seemingly as confused as you are. <<include 'nessaasksabouttrouble'>>

Nessa interrupts the conversation then, her tone bright and forced as she elbows Rory aside with a quelling look. <<include "howstroubledoinganyway">>

"How's Trouble doing anyway, <<c firstname>>? And I mean really, underneath the cavalier attitude he throws at me whenever I ask. Breaks my heart to see him limping around like that, his arm all bound up in that dreadful sling." Concern zips up your spine in a sudden jolt. "<i>What</i>?" <<page_break "Next" "troublearrivesandhesouchy">>

<<set $troubleinjury to true>>The door to the tavern opens then, and unluckily for him, of course it's Trouble. You only have time to catch a glimpse of him before he jerks back at the sight of you, but what you see is fairly alarming: yellow-green bruises blooming along his cheekbone, medical tape over a cut on the bridge of his nose, a split lip, clear signs of swelling having gone down around his eye. There <i>is</i> a sling tied around his right shoulder, though it's currently empty, his arm dangling awkwardly at his side as if he'd grown sick of having it bound up or was otherwise self-conscious about the sling. That's all you have time to take in before he immediately turns around and tries to limp out the door. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Trouble Alder, you get in here <i>this instant</i>."</div>' 'autogenerated_69118'>><<setcourage +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Run after him and collar him. "Not so fast, you."</div>' 'autogenerated_69119'>><<setstrength +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Rise up out of your chair in concern. "What <i>happened</i>?"</div>' 'autogenerated_69120'>><<setcompassionate +1>><<settrouble +1>><</link>> <<if $loyal lte 50>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Well, that was weird." Turn back casually to your drink.</div>' 'autogenerated_69121'>><<setloyal -10>><<setcompassionate -3>><<settrouble -1>><</link>><</if>> <<if $loyal gt 50>><div class="inactive-item">"Well, that was weird." Turn back casually to your drink.</div><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

If he had a middle name—or if you knew his legal name—you'd use it too, but the effect is just the same. Trouble freezes guiltily in the doorway, turning to look back over his shoulder at you with a mingled expression of sheepishness and fear that almost makes you want to laugh. However, you only frown thunderously at him, and he reluctantly leaves the doorway and edges closer, wincing like a boy who's gotten caught nicking a pie off of a windowsill. <<include 'nessaandrory'>>

Trouble makes a strangled squawk as you bodily heave him backwards—and none too gently, considering his condition. Then you frogmarch him back to the bar before you release him. He turns to face you, guiltily avoiding your thunderous gaze like a boy who's gotten caught nicking a pie off of a windowsill. <<include 'nessaandrory'>>

Trouble freezes guiltily in the doorway, then slowly turns back to you with a grimace, clearly heart-torn over the genuine worry in your voice. He creeps back up to the bar, avoiding your gaze and trying to stand so that the worst of his injuries are hidden from you. <<include 'nessaandrory'>>

"Trouble Alder," Nessa calls out then, as sternly as a schoolmarm, "I know you're not trying to run away when your friend <<c firstname>> came looking especially for you." Trouble freezes guiltily in the doorway, then slowly turns back to you with a grimace. Reluctantly, he creeps back up to the bar, avoiding your gaze and trying to stand so that the worst of his injuries are hidden from you. <<include 'nessaandrory'>>

Nessa and Rory exchange significant glances with each other, eyebrows raised. "You, uh... you didn't tell $them?" Rory asks Trouble tentatively. You look between the three of them, trying to stifle the incredulity in your voice as you start to put the pieces together. "Tell me <i>what</i>?" Is this why you haven't seen him around lately? Has he been actively avoiding you? You're not sure whether to feel hurt or annoyed or simply confused. Why do Nessa and Rory know about this, and not you? Then: "Trouble, you didn't get into a fight again, did you?" It had to have been bad from the shameful look on his face... Another thought sparks then. "Was it Lazu Reen?" Trouble grimaces again and shakes his head, still giving you a particularly hangdog look. Some of the other patrons of the tavern have started to stare, so Nessa says hastily, "Maybe you'd better talk more about this in the backroom. No one's there at the moment." She casts Trouble a reprimanding look, shaking her head as she leads the way. You almost think she adds under her breath: "Idiot..." <<page_break "Next" "thebackroomoftheburningcrown">>

<<set $touchtrouble to false>> The backroom of the Burning Crown is typically either used as an overflow space for crowded nights, or as a private meeting room for certain groups or parties. Somehow, seeing it empty like this makes it feel even smaller, a dim golden light filtering in through the dusty windows, the air still and stale and smelling heavily of old aged wood and something slightly sweet, like cedar barrels or a drop of spilled wine. Nessa leaves you to it, and as soon as she's gone Trouble says, trying to crack a rueful grin: "Wasn't Lazu Reen, at least. Fucker's too scared of me to try that again." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Stare at him. You don't have it in you to laugh.</div>' 'autogenerated_69122'>><<settrouble -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Punch him on the shoulder with a reluctant laugh. "At least there's that. You big idiot."</div>' 'autogenerated_69123'>><<settrouble +3>><</link>> <<if $troubleromanceflag gte 20 or $highestfriendship is "trouble" or $trouble gte 90>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Sigh and take his face in your hands, so you can get a good look at him. "Then who was it, Trouble?"</div>' 'autogenerated_69124'>><<settrouble +1>><<set $touchtrouble to true>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Okay, so then who was it?"</div>' 'hemumblesreluctantly'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Eye him sardonically. "Better have been someone way stronger than him, then, because it looks like they kicked your ass."</div>' 'autogenerated_69125'>><<setcompassionate -1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Trouble winces at your lack of reaction and glances away. <<include 'hemumblesreluctantly'>>

Relieved that you're not angry at him, Trouble laughs, too. "Still don't regret it. Even if it did land me in jail." But then he touches his side with a pained wince, and both of your grins fade as you re-assess the extent of his injuries. Trouble sighs at your frown and glances away. <<include 'hemumblesreluctantly'>>

<<nobr>><<if $troubleromanceflag gte 20>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 5>>Trouble closes his eyes, as if it's a relief to feel your touch; he leans his rough cheek against your palm trustingly and heavily, as if he's tired of holding his head up and is content to let you do it for him. He lets you turn his head this way and that as docilely as a horse undergoing a checkup. <<else>> Trouble lets you turn his head this way and that as docilely as a horse undergoing a checkup. <</if>><</nobr>> "Group of civilians," he mumbles, his eyes going half-lidded. "I guess you'd call it a <i>mob</i>, really. Got themselves all worked up into a lather about... Shit, I hardly even know." You delicately turn his head, feeling your way along his jaw. "What do you mean?" <<include 'liftshisshoulders'>>

Trouble winces, as if you'd wounded his pride. "Group of civilians," he mumbles reluctantly, raking the back of his head with his good hand. "I guess you'd call it a <i>mob</i>, really. Got themselves all worked up into a lather about... Shit, I hardly even know." "What do you mean?" Your eyes trace the nasty, mottled bruising that disappears under his collar; you can't even imagine what he looks like underneath his clothes. <<include 'liftshisshoulders'>>

"Group of civilians," he mumbles reluctantly, raking the back of his head with his good hand. "I guess you'd call it a <i>mob</i>, really. Got themselves all worked up into a lather about... Shit, I hardly even know." "What do you mean?" Your eyes trace the nasty, mottled bruising that disappears under his collar; you can't even imagine what he looks like underneath his clothes. <<include "liftshisshoulders">>

Trouble lifts his broad shoulders in a helpless shrug. "I dunno, they were upset because they think the Shepherds are wasting government resources that could be going to helping them," he explains wearily. "That damn <i>Haven Herald</i> isn't helping things. The thought is that all the money we're getting from the Autarch could be going to—to—helping the poor or feeding orphans or summat. You get a lot of upset people that way, people who blame the failure of their shop or their eviction or their sick kid who died on <i>us</i>. If we weren't around to suck up all that money and time, maybe..." He shrugs unhappily again. "Also, they've got it into their heads that the Shepherds favor the Diminished. Obviously. They hear a lot of stories about us helping the Hunters, or the Capra Mages, or the Diminished captives in Heth Macoll, and they think we've let the poor Norm peasants fall by the wayside while we bend all our efforts on helping—people they think don't deserve it. People they've been raised to think are their enemy. They look at us, with our Ket Commander and our Mage legions and all of that, all brimming and happy and zippy with power, and they get suspicious. Resentful, like we're all having a party while they're on the outside, suffering and bleeding and starving and dying. It's not the way they think the world should be. After the Castigation, the Autarchy taught them that it ought to be Norms first, you know? That their kind should be on top, Diminished underneath, or else some very dangerous things could start to happen. They're feeling <i>threatened</i>." "And so they took all of this out on you?" you ask, aghast. Trouble's blue eyes slide away from yours. "Well..." He rubs his jaw thoughtfully. "...Yeah, pretty much. If they hate all of you, they actually hate me even <i>more</i>. They think I'm a traitor to my race, like I turned my back on my own blood. Like I've forgotten my own roots and I've gone over to the other side. I made myself the enemy, to them. Somehow that's even worse than if I'd been born the enemy, without any choice in the matter." You let your breath in a slow hiss of understanding. "So they, what, jumped you?" Trouble huffs, not quite a laugh. "Wrong place, wrong time. I was just outside of here, minding my own business. I was getting in late from that business in Ordeon, you remember. Happened to hear them as I walked past. It was late at night, so I didn't get a good look at their faces. Probably about nine of them, seven men and two women, most of them drunk and angry. They were whipping themselves into a frenzy, complaining about the Shepherds, blaming all their problems on them, cursing and whatnot. I was going to keep my mouth shut, if it was just to do with pride, but there was something ugly in the air... almost like if I didn't put a stop to it, they were going to go hunt down trouble for themselves. Maybe find one of them greenie recruits out on patrol, or something." He catches your eye. "Sort of like that time we found the pig's blood on the wall, you remember?" You remember the sight of Trouble, calmly and silently washing the graffiti off the wall himself. "I remember..." He shrugs again. "Only this time, it seemed like it was going to be worse. Like <i>something</i> was just waiting to boil over. So I figured I ought to say something. I thought that if they knew someone had an eye on them, they'd back down, that it'd take the heat out of their stupid ideas, but one of them happened to recognize me. He called me out for who I was: race-traitor, turncoat, all of that bloody, hateful nonsense. Before I knew it, things kicked off." Despite yourself, your heart has sped up, imagining this frightful scene. Trouble trapped in an all-out angry brawl, the night pitch-black, his attackers faceless, everything a confusion of sound and violence... It's a miracle none of them seemed to have a weapon worse than their fists on them. He was lucky he wasn't stabbed. "You didn't draw your gun?" Trouble snorts. "Fuck no. What if I'd ended up <i>killing</i> one of them? You think that would have calmed things down? Then their friends and family and all who think like them would come down on us, seeking vengeance, and before we knew it, we'd have an Uprising on our hands." He shakes his head. <<nobr>><<if $troubleharden gte 3 or $trouble_calmnoanger is true>>"No way. After everything we've been through, I knew better than to start blindly swinging. I didn't lose my temper. I didn't even punch back. They got their licks in, but then Nessa and them heard the commotion and ran outside, and that scared them off." He pauses. "Besides, they were only civilians. I'm not going to kill a man just because he's got opinions that I don't agree with. Who am I to tell him if his anger is righteous or not? I don't exactly blame them for—none of it's <i>right</i>, mind. But in their own twisted minds, they think they've been wronged. Me beating them senseless wouldn't have helped things. Even if I could have." <<else>> "But still, I fought back, gave as good as I got. Some bastard's walking around with half an ear, tonight. But I was still outnumbered ten-to-one. Lucky Nessa and them heard the commotion and ran outside, scared them off, or... it could have gone worse for me."<</if>><</nobr>> He settles back on his heels with a sigh, as if relieved to have finally told you the whole story. <<include "troubleinjuryinterview">>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if ((not hasVisited("defendyourselftrubs")) and ($troubleharden gte 3 or $trouble_calmnoanger is true))>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"When we talked about reining in your temper before, I didn't mean you shouldn't defend yourself."</div>' 'defendyourselftrubs'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("trubscouldhavebeenkilled")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"Trouble, you could have been killed."</div>' 'trubscouldhavebeenkilled'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("whoelseknowsaboutthistrubs")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"Who else knows about this?"</div>' 'whoelseknowsaboutthistrubs'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("soyouwereavoidingmetrubs")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"So is this why I haven't seen you around? Were you avoiding me?"</div>' 'soyouwereavoidingmetrubs'>><</link>><</if>> <<if not hasVisited("sowhynohealtrubs")>><<link '<div class="talk-item">"Why haven't you gotten healed up?"</div>' 'sowhynohealtrubs'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You stare at him, not sure of what else to say.</div>' 'howdoyoufeelaboutthisattack'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Trouble pulls a wry face. "I know that. It was just... complicated, <<c halfname>>. I didn't want to make things worse. I can do that, you know." There's a shadow there, behind his eyes. He's clearly thinking of things that happened in the past. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Well, you did the right thing in this case. You should always stand up for your beliefs and speak out about what's right, even if it puts you in danger."</div>' 'autogenerated_69126'>><<settrouble +1>><<set $troubleharden -= 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You should have laid low, said nothing and went for backup. It wasn't worth it, and your safety comes first."</div>' 'autogenerated_69127'>><<set $troubleharden += 1>><<setcunning +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I don't blame you for stepping in, but once they turned on you, you should have fought back harder. The way you would have if it were Lazu Reen, not just let them use you as a punching bag. No one gains anything if you become a martyr."</div>' 'autogenerated_69128'>><<setintelligence +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You refrain from saying anything.</div>' 'autogenerated_69129'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Trouble gives you a wan smile. "Thanks, <<c halfname>>. Helps to hear that, especially when I've got to roll out of bed with cracked ribs." <<include 'troubleinjuryinterview'>>

Trouble makes a little sound, maybe one of disagreement or consideration, but says nothing more to that. <<include 'troubleinjuryinterview'>>

Trouble cracks a grin. "You're kind of giving me mixed messages, you know? I thought Lazu Reen was a <i>bad</i> thing." You sigh, make a gesture. "That was different. This time, your life was in danger, and <i>they</i> attacked <i>you</i>... There are no black-and-white laws that mean you should <i>always</i> be a pacificist or <i>always</i> be a brawler. It's just a case-by-case basis. Just letting them beat the crap out of you doesn't make anything better." Trouble makes a thoughtful sound and shrugs, but says nothing more. <<include 'troubleinjuryinterview'>>

Trouble gives you a wan smile. <<include 'troubleinjuryinterview'>>

<<nobr>><<if $troubleromanceflag gte 20>>The thought sends something careening through you, a fear that falls through you like a black and jagged stone. Trouble sees the look on your face and immediately straightens, gathering your own face into his palms. Even through his gloves, his hands are hot and buzzing against your cheeks. <br><br> "Hey," he says softly, tilting your face so he can look straight into your eyes. His voice is suddenly low and soothing, deeper than you remember ever hearing it. "I'm all right, you hear? It all turned out fine. I'm not going anywhere." <br><br> You don't know whether to bury your face in his chest or pull away. <i>But what about next time?</i> <<else>> Trouble tries to crack a grin. "Who, me? Nah. I've survived a lot worse than getting kicked by some drunk sods." <br><br> It is, apparently, as simple to him as that. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "troubleinjuryinterview">>

Now you know why Nessa and Rory already knew about his injuries: it happened right outside the pub. They just assumed he'd already told you. Trouble winces. "Well, Blade knew. He clocked me soon as I came in, and I had to tell him what happened. He didn't say much, just told me to go to the infirmary and get checked out, but I could tell he was worried—or <i>thinking</i>, anyway. I've been dodging everyone else. The ones who did happen to see me... I think they just thought I ran into the usual kind of trouble, and I let them think that. Briony and Ayla teased me about it, thought I'd gotten into a barfight. Chase ribbed me, too. Tallys... I think she knew something else had happened, but she didn't press me on it." <<include "troubleinjuryinterview">>

<<nobr>><<if $troubleromanceflag gte 20>> Trouble sees something in your face, or otherwise catches a note in your tone, that makes him stand straight up and frown at you, peering earnestly into your face. "Hey, no," he says, putting his hands on your shoulders. "I mean, I was <i>lying low</i>, yeah, but only because I didn't want you to worry over me. And also I was sort of embarrassed that I got the shit kicked out of me by civilians. Sometimes a guy's got to lay up in his room and be mortified for a bit before he shows the whole world his shiner. But it had nothing to do with <i>you</i>. You're brilliant. I've been dodging everybody." He smooths a lock of hair away from your forehead, all unthinking affection. "I've just been sparing you my ugly mug, that's all." <br><br> Despite yourself, you let out a watery kind of laugh. The alarm in his face at the thought of having offended you, along with the familiar ease with which he treats you, is utterly convincing. You must have been imagining his recent bouts of skittishness, after all. <<else>> Trouble shakes his head. "Not <i>you</i>, specifically. I've been dodging everybody, mostly so I didn't have to explain what happened, also because I didn't know if I'd done right, also because I was sort of embarrassed that I got the shit kicked out of me by civilians. Sometimes a guy's got to lay up in his room and be mortified for a bit before he shows the whole world his war-wounds." He smiles encouragingly at you, clearly intending no offense. <</if>><</nobr>> <<include "troubleinjuryinterview">>

The Shepherds' infirmary has an entire staff of Healers that could take care of his injuries in a heartbeat. But Trouble only shrugs and says off-handedly, "Dunno. I hate when the Healers poke and prod at me, and also sometimes it seems too easy, wiping away one's hurts in a few minutes. Like it never meant anything at all, I guess? But sometimes it feels like I've got to be sore for a while, live with the sprained wrist or the black eye, so that I don't just forget about it at all and go about my business. Like it's a reminder. It feels too important to just whisk away. No..." He rubs the back of his head. "It's sort of like owning the moment? I made the choice not to escalate, not to draw my gun and scare 'em off or really do anything else other than what I did—so carrying the bruises is like me owning the consequences, too. Living with my choices. I made the call; I'm not trying to erase it. So I've got to carry it, and keeping the bruises lets me think on things and, you know, ruminate." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"...What?"</div>' 'autogenerated_69130'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I get that."</div>' 'autogenerated_69131'>><</link>> <<if $intelligence gte 65>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Narrow your eyes at him. "Trouble, you don't think you deserved this, do you?"</div>' 'autogenerated_69132'>><<settrouble +1>><<setintelligence +2>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($courage gte 65 or $compassionate lt 50) and $specialization is not "healer">><<link '<div class="choice-item">"That's idiotic. Do you really think you're helping anybody by running around with cracked ribs?You need to get healed <i>immediately</i>." </div>' 'autogenerated_69133'>><<setcharisma -1>><<setcourage +1>><</link>><</if>> <<if ($courage gte 65 or $compassionate lt 50) and $specialization is "healer">><<link '<div class="choice-item">"That's idiotic. Do you really think you're helping anybody by running around with cracked ribs? When we get back, I'm healing you myself."</div>' 'autogenerated_69134'>><<settrouble +1>><<setmagic +1>><</link>><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

You stare at him blankly. "...Trouble..." "Yeah?" "That's so <i>weird</i>." He grins, a bit mischievously. "That, and it's also a public image thing," he adds cheerfully. "I walk around looking battered and shabby, but with my head held high, and people start to feel bad about it all. Maybe it makes them reflect on their choices, rethink some things, feel guilty or sorry for the noble Shepherd. 'Maybe he didn't deserve it so bad. Maybe we went a little too far.' But I show up all magically patched up, it stokes even more resentment. 'Look, they even get beat up and the Autarch foots the bill to fix it. Must be nice.'" "So you <i>want</i> people feeling sorry for you?" "Something like that, maybe. I dunno." He shrugs. "I did hit my head <i>really</i> hard." <<include 'troubleinjuryinterview'>>

He grins, a bit mischievously. "That, and it's also a public image thing," he adds cheerfully. "I walk around looking battered and shabby, but with my head held high, and people start to feel bad about it all. Maybe it makes them reflect on their choices, rethink some things, feel guilty or sorry for the noble Shepherd. 'Maybe he didn't deserve it so bad. Maybe we went a little too far.' But I show up all magically patched up, it stokes even more resentment. 'Look, they even get beat up and the Autarch foots the bill to fix it. Must be nice.'" <<include 'troubleinjuryinterview'>>

It would be just like him to refuse treatment because he felt, in his obscure Trouble way, that he deserved to feel the real pain of his injuries. But the sniper just throws you an easy grin. "Don't be silly," he says, a bit too breezily. "It's also a public image thing. I walk around looking battered and shabby, but with my head held high, and people start to feel bad about it all. Maybe it makes them reflect on their choices, rethink some things, feel guilty or sorry for the noble Shepherd. 'Maybe he didn't deserve it so bad. Maybe we went too far.' But I show up all magically patched up, it stokes even more resentment. 'Look, they even get beat up and the Autarch foots the bill to fix it. Must be nice.'" <<include 'troubleinjuryinterview'>>

You work a dangerous job: it seems the height of folly to you for him to throw himself into dangerous situations, riddled with injuries, when it's completely unnecessary to do so. <<nobr>><<if $troubleharden gte 4 or $trouble_calmnoanger is true>>But Trouble just shakes his head with one of those easy grins. "Nah. I'll be right as rain in a few days." <<else>><<set $troubleinjury to false>>Trouble heaves a sigh at the look on your face. "<i>Fine</i>," he mutters at you, looking vaguely mutinous. "When we get back." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'troubleinjuryinterview'>>

<<nobr>><<if $touchtrouble is true>>When you touched him earlier, your magical senses already informed you of the extent of his injuries: a cracked rib, dislocated shoulder, a dangerous hairline crack along his arm. You work a dangerous job: it seems the height of folly to you for him to throw himself into dangerous situations, riddled with injuries, when it's completely unnecessary to do so. <<else>>You work a dangerous job: it seems the height of folly to you for him to throw himself into dangerous situations, riddled with injuries, when it's completely unnecessary to do so. <</if>><</nobr>> <<nobr>><<if $troubleharden gte 4 or $trouble_calmnoanger is true>>But Trouble just shakes his head with one of those easy grins. "Nah. I'll be right as rain in a few days. Save your strength for someone else." <br><br> You huff. A Healer's oaths prevent you from healing someone who outright refuses to consent to it, but you'll keep working at him. Still, Trouble can become even more stubborn and hard-headed if you push too far. <<else>><<set $troubleinjury to false>>Trouble heaves a sigh at the look on your face. "All right, <i>fine</i>," he mutters at you, looking vaguely mutinous. "When we get back." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'troubleinjuryinterview'>>

Trouble looks at you sidelong, clearly trying to gauge your thoughts. "...What are you thinking?" he asks, shifting under your gaze. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You're furious. You want to hunt down his attackers one by one and exact retribution on them; pulverize their faces until there's nothing left.</div>' 'autogenerated_69135'>><<setcompassionate -1>><<settrouble +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You're frustrated. You risk your lives every day for these people, and this is the thanks you get?</div>' 'autogenerated_69136'>><<setloyal -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You're saddened. Is it ever going to get any better?</div>' 'autogenerated_69137'>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You're terrified. In an instant, Trouble could have died, and there would have been nothing you could do to prevent it.</div>' 'autogenerated_69138'>><<settrouble +1>><<setloyal +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You're heartbroken. The sight of Trouble so battered makes you feel as if <i>you're</i> the one in pain.</div>' 'autogenerated_69139'>><<setcompassionate +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You're calculating. How can you prevent this from happening again in the future? Or, barring that, how can you use this incident for good?</div>' 'autogenerated_69140'>><<setcunning +3>><<setintelligence +2>><<settrouble -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You're in shock. When you went looking for Trouble today, you never suspected that all of this was unfolding in the background.</div>' 'autogenerated_69141'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">You're calm. Now that you've absorbed this information and understood what's been going on, you're ready to move on. It happened, he dealt with it, nothing permanent came to pass.</div>' 'autogenerated_69142'>><<setcunning +1>><<setcompassionate -1>><<setloyal -1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

How <i>dare</i> they assault one of your friends? Your insides are seething with rage; a fine white mist seems to have covered your vision. Trouble seems to recognize your feelings—probably all too well—because he puts his hand on your shoulder and says, "I get it, <<c halfname>>. I do. If our positions were reversed, you know I'd be spitting furious and ready to kill whoever touched you." But then his lips quirk, the motion tugging on his split lip. "But it's over with now. They're gone. No point cooking our brains trying to get back at them when we could just move on." He glances questioningly at you. "Just like the pig's blood, yeah? It's washed away." But is it? There's something small and uncertain wedged in your gut. Did the crowd actually exorcise their collective demon on him... or did they simply feed it? <<include 'troublehug'>>

"<<c god>>," you mutter. "When is it ever going to end? What are we doing all of this for?" <<include 'troublehug'>>

It feels like everyone hates you just as much as they did when you first walked into this city—as much as they have your entire life. Nothing's changed. This just brings it home. What if it never gets any better than this? <<include 'troublehug'>>

The fact that it would have been such a mundane, close-to-home tragedy somehow makes it even more alarming than the fact that he goes out on risky missions every day. Your stomach twists sickeningly at the image: you and the others, locked safe behind your castle walls, holding glowing glasses of cider or wine and playing games in the firelight, only for a messenger or Nessa to come in, breathless, to deliver the terrible news, everything freezing and falling away and changing forever... <<include 'troublehug'>>

Every time you imagine them beating him, kicking him, him curled on the ground as a boot connects with his ribs... The thought makes you almost want to gasp for breath. <<include 'troublehug'>>

Trouble catches sight of your expression and raps his knuckles gently on your head. "Strategizing as usual," he comments. "Well, now you know it all, so I'll leave you to do your own plotting. In the meantime, you going to buy the injured hero a drink?" <<include 'troubleend6'>>

You were just expecting an innocent outing at the Burning Crown, not... stories of mob violence, your friend brutally beaten and battered. <<include 'troublehug'>>

Trouble catches sight of your expression and smiles briefly at you, then winces as the motion tugs on his split lip. "So, there," he says with finality, nodding in approval. "Now you know it all. In the meantime, you going to buy the injured hero a drink?" <<include 'troubleend6'>>

Just then, the door to the backroom slams open, making the both of you jump. A server staggers in, hauling a half-full, sloshing barrel; he blinks up owlishly at you just as Nessa calls from behind him, "Here, now, I meant in <i>twenty minutes</i>, not now!" "Oh," the server mutters, gawking at the two of you. "Uh, sorry." Trouble laughs and shrugs back into his sling, giving the skinny young man a clap on the shoulder as he breezes by. "No worries. We were just leaving, anyway." <<page_break "Next" "afternessa">>

<<nobr>><<if $troubleromanceflag gte 20 or $trouble gte 90>>Trouble sees the look on your face and quickly pulls you into a hug. He smells, as usual, of leather and clean soap, a hint of smoky aftershave, the faint woody tang of charch. <<if $troubleromanceflag gte 20>>His arms are strong and secure around you, and for a moment you feel strangely as if your heart is breaking. <</if>> When he pulls back to look at you, he says kindly and gently, "It's all right. <i>I'm</i> all right. And things <i>are</i> changing; they <i>are</i> getting better. You've seen it. Most people are fans of the Shepherds, and even the ones who aren't have to acknowledge that demon rates have fallen to a tenth of what they were. They know they need us, so they'll learn to tolerate us. A year ago, we couldn't have come to the Burning Crown or walked the Ashtown beat without getting some dirty looks. But now those people are the minority. They're still there, sure, but we'll stamp 'em out with time, whether by our deeds or our conduct or exposure to us or just... showing them we're human too. We just can't lose our courage, or our hope, 'til then. We've got to keep going. Can't let them scare us into stopping." <br><br> There's something firm and determined in his voice, a hint of steel and surety that's different from the brash stubbornness or reckless, charge-ahead temper and high wild passion that you once associated him with. Trouble has become... steadier over time, more even-tempered, almost before your very eyes. <<if $troubleromanceflag gte 20>> His gaze is clear and steady as he looks into your face, his hands almost absently brushing against your cheek, tracing the edge of your collarbone with an almost unthinking, confident possessiveness. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Gaze worriedly at his injuries. "But..."</div>' 'autogenerated_69143'>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Kiss his cheek impulsively. "You're right. Thanks."</div>' 'autogenerated_69144'>><<set $troubleromanceflag += 5>><<settrouble +5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Hug him again. You're just going to have to trust him.</div>' 'autogenerated_69145'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Pull away. You just don't share his blind hope. </div>' 'autogenerated_69146'>><<set $troubleromanceflag -= 8>><<settrouble -5>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <<else>> <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I really hope you're right."</div>' 'autogenerated_69147'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'm proud of you, Trouble."</div>' 'autogenerated_69148'>><<settrouble +1>><<set $troubleharden += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You're the best, you know that?"</div>' 'autogenerated_69149'>><<settrouble +2>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Look at you, all grown up."</div>' 'autogenerated_69150'>><<settrouble +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I guess I can't argue against that."</div>' 'autogenerated_69151'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>> <</if>> <<else>> Trouble catches sight of your expression and frowns, seemingly not knowing what to say. After a moment he says awkwardly, "It's all right, <<c firstname>>. <i>I'm</i> all right. And things <i>are</i> changing; they <i>are</i> getting better. You've seen it. Most people are fans of the Shepherds, and even the ones who aren't have to acknowledge that demon rates have fallen to a tenth of what they were. They know they need us, so they'll learn to tolerate us. A year ago, we couldn't have come to the Burning Crown or walked the Ashtown beat without getting some dirty looks. But now those people are the minority. They're still there, sure, but we'll stamp 'em out with time, whether by our deeds or our conduct or exposure to us or just... showing them we're human too. We just can't lose our courage, or our hope, 'til then. We've got to keep going. Can't let them scare us into stopping." <br><br> <<include "troubleend6">> <</if>> <</nobr>>

He gives you a quick, confident grin. "'Course I am. Blade made me the bloody Vice-Commander for a reason, didn't he? Sometimes I know what I'm talking about." <<include 'troubleend6'>>

He gives you a big, bright grin. "You are, huh? Do I get a bigger allowance this week, Mum?" You snort and punch him on the shoulder. "Shut up." He rumples your hair fondly. "Thanks, <<c halfname>>. Everything's going to be just fine." <<include 'troubleend6'>>

He rumples your hair fondly. "Nah, you are. And everything's going to be just fine." <<include 'troubleend6'>>

He gives you a big, cheeky grin. "Nah. I'm just learning how to talk the talk, is all. I'm still getting my arsed kicked, just for different reasons." <<include 'troubleend6'>>

He gives you a big grin. "'Course you can't. Blade made me the bloody Vice-Commander for a reason, didn't he? Sometimes I know what I'm talking about." <<include 'troubleend6'>>

He laughs, then winces as the motion tugs on his split lip. "Don't <i>worry</i>. I'm going to be fine. I've had a lot worse." Having grown up as a <i>panton-keras</i>, you don't doubt it. But still, the sight of him tugs plaintively at your heart. Then Trouble grins and grabs your face, rubbing your noses together like an annoying kid teasing his schoolmate. "This is why I didn't want to make you worry," he points out, his voice suddenly jovial. "But if you keep looking all sad, I'm just going to go out every day and get beat up until you get used to it." Despite yourself, you can't help but laugh. "Don't do that." He gives you a fond grin. "There's that smile I love." <<include 'allatoncesomethingchanges'>>

Trouble gives you a fond grin. <<nobr>><<if $gender is "female">>"That's my girl," he says softly. <<else>>"There's that smile I love." <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'allatoncesomethingchanges'>>

Trouble gives you a big squeeze, companionable and reassuring. <<include 'allatoncesomethingchanges'>>

Trouble sighs as he realizes this, and his arms fall away from you. But he makes no other protest. <<include 'troubleend6'>>

And then, when you draw back to look at each other for one more moment, all at once something changes. It starts as just a shift in the air, a tense little crackle of electricity where there was only close warmth before. You look at Trouble, into his blue-gold eyes, at his square blunt and rugged features, at his dear face, at the way he's looking at you. Trouble, so warm and loyal and dogged, and all of that vigorous heat waiting to explode into savage, protective ferocity on an instant's notice. Your heart clenches painfully. Trouble's look is mostly easy and blank, that small, comforting smile still playing around the corner of mouth—but then his eyes drop down to your mouth, and he goes still, like a predator suddenly catching sight of something, or someone who's been splashed with cold. His hand on your shoulder settles, the fingertips just touching the hollow of your throat, impossibly heavy and solid compared to how it just felt, almost as if it's the only thing tethering you down to earth. Something in his eyes changes. The door to the backroom slams open, making the both of you jump. One of the servers staggers in, unseeing around the barrel he's dragging out in front of him; behind him somewhere, Nessa squawks, "<i>Hang on a moment, I meant the other room</i>!" The server peers around his barrel, notices you, pulls a comical face of surprise, and mutters, "Oh, uh... Sorry." Trouble rocks back on his heels as if he's been dealt a physical blow, letting out a long breath. He forces a tight smile and steps away from you, neat and quick as a prize-fighter dodging a blow. "No worries," he says, shrugging his sling back on. "We were just leaving, anyway." <<page_break "..." "afternessa">>

After he drops off his package for Nessa, Trouble leads you outside of the Burning Crown; he's careful not to look around or acknowledge it, but your eyes go to the most probable spots where the assault the other night might have taken place. Was it that alley over there, or right here in front of these shops, which would have been empty at the time?... Somehow the brisk, bright air of the day feels transformed to you, despite what you and Trouble talked about inside. When you went looking for Trouble, you hardly looked around at the city around you, focused on your goal in that way everyone gets when they've lived in a place long enough. Haven was like Trouble to you: familiar, comfortable, safe—at least on the surface, before an errant spark sets the powderkeg off. But now there's a sour undernote here, a brief and crackling note of imagined unease, maybe even danger. A breeze touches your neck and sends goosebumps crawling up your arms. Trouble must notice your sudden watchfulness, but he keeps up a stream of fast, cheerful talk nonetheless. It's only when you notice a woman standing across the street, watching you with her arms folded and a foreboding glower on her face, that the two of slow. You remember, suddenly, that wall-eyed Norm woman you caught watching you when you and Trouble washed the blood off of the walls by the Shepherds' compound that one time. The way Trouble's hand dropped to his gun, and how he growled low in his throat, all his hackles raised. <i>Sorry</i>, he'd said at the time. <i>She gave me a bad feeling...</i> Now, though, Trouble merely cocks his head towards the woman, meeting her glare calmly and steadily as the two of you both slow to a halt, watching her. You feel something humming high and thin in your chest, power bridling to respond as it's needed... "Jessup, Ivy," the woman barks sharply. She's glaring at something over both your shoulders. "Get your arses over here 'afore I kill the both of yous!" From behind you, a chorus of youthful whines; a pair of tow-headed children scuttle past you, completely oblivious. "Aw, Mom..." "Shurrup! Get inside and finish yer work, or I'll pull your ears so hard they'll stretch to the ground!" She herds them down the street without ever once noticing you; evidently the sight of you has become so commonplace that she didn't even know you were there. Trouble gets his good arm around your neck and manages to pull you a safe distance away before you both burst out laughing, giddy with relief and ruefulness and something that feels like tentative, painful hope. <<include "troubleover">>

<<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>...</span></div></div>' "dayoff">><<set $troubletime += 1>><</link>>

<<nobr>> <<if $part < 5>> <<set $characterDetails to { tag: 'Ayla Aescar', name: 'Ayla Aescar', relationshipStatus: $ayla, characterArt: settings.characterart, mainDetails: [ {label: 'Title', value: 'Jalis Wind-Mage'}, {label: 'Rank', value: 'Captain'}, {label: 'Weapon', value: 'Wind-Staff'}, {label: 'Race', value: 'Mage'}, {label: 'Pronouns', value: 'She/Her'} ], descParagraphs: [ 'Ayla Aescar is a nomadic and flighty Wind-Mage who hails from the distant Jalis Desert, traveling the land as a wilderness guide. Ropy and muscular in build, she has sand-colored hair tied in a thick braid, warm amber eyes, a hawkish face, and rich, fiercely-freckled dark skin. She always carries a tall, gnarled quarterstaff, which she can use to either magically control the wind or physically clobber her enemies. She favors the loose-fitting, translucent silk clothes of Jalis, sometimes scandalizing Eastern sensibilities. Her features are bold, challenging, and defiant.', 'Abandoned as an infant, Ayla has spent much of her life searching for her lost parents, fighting, scrapping, and occasionally grifting others to survive. Because she has spent so much of her time alone, some may regard her as rough and ill-mannered, but she is also brave and compassionate, frequently interceding on the behalf of those who can\'t defend themselves. She distrusts long-term connections just as much as she seems to long for them. A hardened survivalist and expert traveler, she is one of the few Elementalists who holds mastery over only one element: in her case, wind. She is incapable of eating meat and is very physically strong. She also has a reputation of fighting dirty and will do anything it takes to survive.', 'Ayla\'s personality is brash, fiery, distrusting, blunt, and fiercely-loyal when it comes to friends. She can act grumpy and begrudging or even argumentative at first glance, but can also be genial and good-humored once comfortable, especially enjoying rough-housing. Although she tries to act as if she has a tough skin and cares for no one but herself, she struggles with fears of abandonment and will be quick to abandon others first if she senses an impending loss.' ] } >> <<else>> <<set $characterDetails to { tag: 'Ayla Aescar', name: 'Ayla Aescar', characterArt: settings.characterart, mainDetails: [ {label: 'Title', value: 'Jalis Wind-Mage'}, {label: 'Rank', value: 'Captain, Lunar Corps'}, {label: 'Callsign', value: 'Tempest'}, {label: 'Weapon', value: 'Wind-Staff'}, {label: 'Race', value: 'Mage'}, {label: 'Pronouns', value: 'She/Her'} ], descParagraphs: [ 'Ayla Aescar is a nomadic and flighty Wind-Mage who hails from the distant Jalis Desert, traveling the land as a wilderness guide. Ropy and muscular in build, she has sand-colored hair tied in a thick braid, warm amber eyes, a hawkish face, and rich, fiercely-freckled dark skin. She always carries a tall, gnarled quarterstaff, which she can use to either magically control the wind or physically clobber her enemies. She favors the loose-fitting, translucent silk clothes of Jalis, sometimes scandalizing Eastern sensibilities. Her features are bold, challenging, and defiant.', 'Abandoned as an infant, Ayla has spent much of her life searching for her lost parents, fighting, scrapping, and occasionally grifting others to survive. Because she has spent so much of her time alone, some may regard her as rough and ill-mannered, but she is also brave and compassionate, frequently interceding on the behalf of those who can\'t defend themselves. She distrusts long-term connections just as much as she seems to long for them. A hardened survivalist and expert traveler, she is one of the few Elementalists who holds mastery over only one element: in her case, wind. She is incapable of eating meat and is very physically strong. She also has a reputation of fighting dirty and will do anything it takes to survive.', 'Ayla\'s personality is brash, fiery, distrusting, blunt, and fiercely-loyal when it comes to friends. She can act grumpy and begrudging or even argumentative at first glance, but can also be genial and good-humored once comfortable, especially enjoying rough-housing. Although she tries to act as if she has a tough skin and cares for no one but herself, she struggles with fears of abandonment and will be quick to abandon others first if she senses an impending loss.' ] } >> <</if>> <<character_popup_details $characterDetails>> <</nobr>>

<<nobr>> <<if $part < 5>> <<set $characterDetails to { tag: 'Blade Bronwyn', name: 'Blade Bronwyn', relationshipStatus: $blade, characterArt: settings.characterart, mainDetails: [ {label: 'Title', value: 'Commander of the Shepherds'}, {label: 'Rank', value: 'Commander'}, {label: 'Weapon', value: 'Sword'}, {label: 'Race', value: 'Ket'}, {label: 'Pronouns', value: 'He/Him'} ], descParagraphs: [ 'Blade is the enigmatic and stoic commander of the Shepherds. Tall and lean with muscle, he has pale skin, dark cropped hair, and dark, alert eyes. His shoulders are broad and strong, but his face is fine-boned and faintly-aristocratic. As evidence of his hard upbringing, faint white scars litter his knuckles, elbows, and ribs, and he often walks with soundless footsteps. His features are serious and vigilant. He often carries a black, blue-edged sword at his hip.', 'Although he seems cold-hearted, he is fiercely protective of those around him and will lay down his life for others without question, obeying a code of honor that serves justice and compassion. His skills with weaponry and military strategy are legendary, but as a leader, he can seem unreadable and intimidating. He always faces tasks with ruthless gravity and can seem cold or humorless to those who don\'t know him well. Despite his past work in stealth and espionage, he rarely seems to lie, resorting to either silence or overly-blunt, brusque responses in his day-to-day interactions.', 'Blade\'s personality is serious, cool-headed, reserved, perceptive, and disciplined. He is not prone to showing emotion and can seem harsh to some, but his proud work ethic and unwavering diligence inspires most to follow his example. There are some rumors that Blade might be one of the greatest assassins on the Continent: but if that\'s true, many wonder, then how did he come to work for the Autarch?' ] } >> <<elseif $part >= 5 and $part < 8>> <<set $characterDetails to { tag: 'Blade Bronwyn', name: 'Blade Bronwyn', relationshipStatus: $blade, characterArt: settings.characterart, mainDetails: [ {label: 'Title', value: 'Commander of the Shepherds'}, {label: 'Rank', value: 'Commander, Lunar Corps'}, {label: 'Callsign', value: 'Spectre'}, {label: 'Weapon', value: 'Sword'}, {label: 'Race', value: 'Ket'}, {label: 'Pronouns', value: 'He/Him'} ], descParagraphs: [ 'Blade is the enigmatic and stoic commander of the Shepherds. Tall and lean with muscle, he has pale skin, dark cropped hair, and dark, alert eyes. His shoulders are broad and strong, but his face is fine-boned and faintly-aristocratic. As evidence of his hard upbringing, faint white scars litter his knuckles, elbows, and ribs, and he often walks with soundless footsteps. His features are serious and vigilant. He often carries a black, blue-edged sword at his hip.', 'Although he seems cold-hearted, he is fiercely protective of those around him and will lay down his life for others without question, obeying a code of honor that serves justice and compassion. His skills with weaponry and military strategy are legendary, but as a leader, he can seem unreadable and intimidating. He always faces tasks with ruthless gravity and can seem cold or humorless to those who don\'t know him well. Despite his past work in stealth and espionage, he rarely seems to lie, resorting to either silence or overly-blunt, brusque responses in his day-to-day interactions.', 'Blade\'s personality is serious, cool-headed, reserved, perceptive, and disciplined. He is not prone to showing emotion and can seem harsh to some, but his proud work ethic and unwavering diligence inspires most to follow his example. There are some rumors that Blade might be one of the greatest assassins on the Continent: but if that\'s true, many wonder, then how did he come to work for the Autarch?' ] } >> <<else>> <<set $characterDetails to { tag: 'Blade Bronwyn', name: 'Blade Bronwyn', relationshipStatus: $blade, characterArt: settings.characterart, mainDetails: [ {label: 'Title', value: 'Commander of the Shepherds'}, {label: 'Rank', value: 'Commander-Polemarch, Lunar Corps'}, {label: 'Callsign', value: 'Spectre'}, {label: 'Weapon', value: 'Sword'}, {label: 'Race', value: 'Ket'}, {label: 'Pronouns', value: 'He/Him'} ], descParagraphs: [ 'Blade is the enigmatic and stoic commander of the Shepherds. Tall and lean with muscle, he has pale skin, dark cropped hair, and dark, alert eyes. His shoulders are broad and strong, but his face is fine-boned and faintly-aristocratic. As evidence of his hard upbringing, faint white scars litter his knuckles, elbows, and ribs, and he often walks with soundless footsteps. His features are serious and vigilant. He often carries a black, blue-edged sword at his hip.', 'Although he seems cold-hearted, he is fiercely protective of those around him and will lay down his life for others without question, obeying a code of honor that serves justice and compassion. His skills with weaponry and military strategy are legendary, but as a leader, he can seem unreadable and intimidating. He always faces tasks with ruthless gravity and can seem cold or humorless to those who don\'t know him well. Despite his past work in stealth and espionage, he rarely seems to lie, resorting to either silence or overly-blunt, brusque responses in his day-to-day interactions.', 'Blade\'s personality is serious, cool-headed, reserved, perceptive, and disciplined. He is not prone to showing emotion and can seem harsh to some, but his proud work ethic and unwavering diligence inspires most to follow his example. There are some rumors that Blade might be one of the greatest assassins on the Continent: but if that\'s true, many wonder, then how did he come to work for the Autarch?' ] } >> <</if>> <<character_popup_details $characterDetails>> <</nobr>>

<<nobr>> <<set $characterDetails to { tag: 'Briony Stormbreaker', name: 'Briony Stormbreaker', relationshipStatus: $briony, characterArt: settings.characterart, mainDetails: [ {label: 'Title', value: 'Champion of Heth Macoll'}, {label: 'Rank', value: 'Captain, Lunar Corps'}, {label: 'Callsign', value: 'Starfall'}, {label: 'Weapon', value: 'Sword'}, {label: 'Race', value: 'Mage/Elf/Ket/Hunter'}, {label: 'Pronouns', value: 'She/Her'} ], descParagraphs: [ 'Briony is a Diminished fighter who recently dominated an underground gladiator arena with her explosive battle magic and fighting prowess. Although she looks deceptively short and compact, she is alarmingly strong and muscular, capable of punching craters through solid walls. She has freckled golden skin, messy blush-pink hair, violet eyes, and pointed ears. Her features are often open, cheerful, and expressive, though her stubborn chin also belies a quick temper.', 'Briony was found washed up on the southern coast amidst the debris of a shipwreck, with no memories of her past life and only a mysterious sword clutched in her hand. Despite her amnesia and subsequent difficulty in re-learning how to control her unpredictable powers, which seem to be unstable, she maintains a good cheer and does not seem overly-concerned about regaining her lost memories—though perhaps this is only a front. Affectionate and warm, she makes friends easily and is passionate in all things, at times happy-go-lucky and at others sensitive or easily-angered; but she forgives and forgets easily and loves ensuring that everyone is having a good time. She is a terrible liar and tends to be accident-prone.', 'Briony\'s personality is bright, friendly, talkative, welcoming, and emotionally-perceptive, usually able to disarm even the frostiest of personalities. She is fascinated by the world around her and eager to catch up on everything she\'s forgotten, but she secretly worries that she\'ll eventually remember something that should have stayed lost.' ] } >> <<character_popup_details $characterDetails>> <</nobr>>

<<nobr>> <<if $cainejoin is true>> <<set $characterDetails to { tag: 'Caine Tavadon', name: 'Caine Tavadon', characterArt: settings.characterart, mainDetails: [ {label: 'Rank', value: 'Apprentice'}, {label: 'Weapon', value: '$caineweapon'}, {label: 'Race', value: 'Norm'}, {label: 'Pronouns', value: 'He/Him'} ], descParagraphs: [ 'A boy of twelve, he is small and hardy, with a curly mop of copper-colored hair, brown eyes, and a perpetually excited grin. He possesses boundless energy and enthusiasm, and his features are eager and expressive.', 'Despite his excitability, he seems to be quite trustworthy, striving to learn about the ways of the world through his apprenticeships and travels. Although the Autarchy is a dangerous place, Caine is eager to explore it, demonstrating an impressive amount of courage, resourcefulness, and self-reliance considering his youth.', 'Caine\'s personality is loyal, trusting, dependable, honest, and sincere. He is eager to please and a hard worker, though among friends of his own age, he tends to be more bold and careless, leading his peers on adventures of his own design.', 'He\'s so excited to be joining the order! He loves you so much.' ] } >> <<elseif $cainesafe is true or $bothsafe is true>> <<set $characterDetails to { tag: 'Caine Tavadon', name: 'Caine Tavadon', characterArt: settings.characterart, mainDetails: [ {label: 'Rank', value: 'Apprentice'}, {label: 'Weapon', value: '$caineweapon'}, {label: 'Race', value: 'Norm'}, {label: 'Pronouns', value: 'He/Him'} ], descParagraphs: [ 'A boy of twelve, he is small and hardy, with a curly mop of copper-colored hair, brown eyes, and a perpetually excited grin. He possesses boundless energy and enthusiasm, and his features are eager and expressive.', 'Despite his excitability, he seems to be quite trustworthy, striving to learn about the ways of the world through his apprenticeships and travels. Although the Autarchy is a dangerous place, Caine is eager to explore it, demonstrating an impressive amount of courage, resourcefulness, and self-reliance considering his youth.', 'Caine\'s personality is loyal, trusting, dependable, honest, and sincere. He is eager to please and a hard worker, though among friends of his own age, he tends to be more bold and careless, leading his peers on adventures of his own design.' ] } >> <<elseif $cainedead is true or $bothdead is true>> <<set $characterDetails to { tag: 'Caine Tavadon', name: 'Caine Tavadon', characterArt: settings.characterart, mainDetails: [ {label: 'Title', value: 'Apprentice'}, {label: 'Race', value: 'Norm'}, {label: 'Pronouns', value: 'He/Him'} ], descParagraphs: [ 'Caine was a twelve-year-old apprentice who was killed by Endarkened on the day of Prihine Naveen\'s wedding.' ] } >> <<else>> <<set $characterDetails to { tag: 'Caine Tavadon', name: 'Caine Tavadon', characterArt: settings.characterart, mainDetails: [ {label: 'Title', value: 'Apprentice'}, {label: 'Race', value: 'Norm'}, {label: 'Pronouns', value: 'He/Him'} ], descParagraphs: [ 'A boy of twelve, he is small and hardy, with a curly mop of copper-colored hair, brown eyes, and a perpetually excited grin. He possesses boundless energy and enthusiasm, and his features are eager and expressive.', ] } >> <</if>> <<character_popup_details $characterDetails>> <</nobr>>

<<codex_menu>> <<nobr>> <<if $part is 0>> <<set $cardTypes to ['Prihine Naveen', 'Caine Tavadon']>> <<elseif $part is 1 or $part is 2>> <<set $cardTypes to ['Blade Bronwyn', 'Trouble Alder', 'Tallys Ironwood', 'Shery Acquell', 'Prihine Naveen', 'Caine Tavadon']>> <</if>> <<if $chasejoin is true>><<set $cardTypes to ['Blade Bronwyn', 'Trouble Alder', 'Tallys Ironwood', 'Shery Acquell', 'Riel Syndran', 'Chase Trinaeste', 'Prihine Naveen', 'Caine Tavadon']>><</if>> <<if $redjoin is true>><<set $cardTypes to ['Blade Bronwyn', 'Trouble Alder', 'Tallys Ironwood', 'Shery Acquell', 'Riel Syndran', 'Chase Trinaeste', 'Red Antiqua', 'Ayla Aescar', 'Prihine Naveen', 'Caine Tavadon']>><</if>> <<if $halekjoin is true>><<set $cardTypes to ['Blade Bronwyn', 'Trouble Alder', 'Tallys Ironwood', 'Shery Acquell', 'Riel Syndran', 'Chase Trinaeste', 'Red Antiqua', 'Ayla Aescar', 'Halek Prince','Prihine Naveen', 'Caine Tavadon']>><</if>> <<if $brionyjoin is true>><<set $cardTypes to ['Blade Bronwyn', 'Trouble Alder', 'Tallys Ironwood', 'Shery Acquell', 'Riel Syndran', 'Chase Trinaeste', 'Red Antiqua', 'Ayla Aescar', 'Halek Prince', 'Briony Stormbreaker', 'Prihine Naveen', 'Caine Tavadon']>><</if>> <<if $lavinetjoin is true>><<set $cardTypes to ['Blade Bronwyn', 'Trouble Alder', 'Tallys Ironwood', 'Shery Acquell', 'Riel Syndran', 'Chase Trinaeste', 'Red Antiqua', 'Ayla Aescar', 'Halek Prince', 'Briony Stormbreaker', 'Lavinet Naveen', 'Prihine Naveen', 'Caine Tavadon']>><</if>> <<if $mimirjoin is true>><<set $cardTypes to ['Blade Bronwyn', 'Trouble Alder', 'Tallys Ironwood', 'Shery Acquell', 'Riel Syndran', 'Chase Trinaeste', 'Red Antiqua', 'Ayla Aescar', 'Halek Prince', 'Briony Stormbreaker', 'Lavinet Naveen', 'Mimir Esthin', 'Prihine Naveen', 'Caine Tavadon']>><</if>> <<if $croellejoin is true>><<set $cardTypes to ['Blade Bronwyn', 'Trouble Alder', 'Tallys Ironwood', 'Shery Acquell', 'Riel Syndran', 'Chase Trinaeste', 'Red Antiqua', 'Ayla Aescar', 'Halek Prince', 'Briony Stormbreaker', 'Lavinet Naveen', 'Mimir Esthin', 'Croelle', 'Prihine Naveen', 'Caine Tavadon']>><</if>> <div class="character-guide fit-to-passages-holder"> <div class="cards-holder"> <div class="rotation-holder" data-selected-card-idx="0" @data-cards-count="$cardTypes.length"> <<for _j to 0; _j lt $cardTypes.length; _j++>> <<if _j == 0 >> <div class="card selected" @data-card-idx="_j" @data-type="$cardTypes[_j]" data-action-type="open_dialogue" data-sub-type="character"></div> <<else>> <div class="card" @data-card-idx="_j" @data-type="$cardTypes[_j]" data-action-type="open_dialogue" data-sub-type="character"></div> <</if>> <</for>> </div> <div class="rotation-ui"> <div class="rotate-arrow rotate-left" data-action-type="rotate_cards_holder" data-type="left"><</div> <div class="rotate-arrow rotate-right" data-action-type="rotate_cards_holder" data-type="right">></div> <div class="card-info"> <div class="title">$cardTypes[0]</div> <div class="desc">(Click on a card to read more)</div> </div> </div> </div> </div> <</nobr>>

<<nobr>> <<if $part < 5>> <<set $characterDetails to { tag: 'Chase Trinaeste', name: 'Chase Trinaeste', relationshipStatus: $chase, characterArt: settings.characterart, mainDetails: [ {label: 'Title', value: 'Thief Lord of Haven'}, {label: 'Rank', value: 'Captain'}, {label: 'Weapon', value: 'Pistols, Daggers'}, {label: 'Race', value: 'Norm'}, {label: 'Pronouns', value: 'He/Him'} ], descParagraphs: [ 'Chase is the playful and enigmatic leader of the Thieves Guild in Haven. Acrobatic and lithe in build, he has a tan olive complexion, carefully-tousled brown hair, and sly, vivid green eyes that are almost feline in appearance. A bit vain and a lover of fine things, he loves to wear flashy rings, piercings, and colorful scarves, and can regularly go through multiple outfits in one day. His features are sleek and amused. He is a walking armory and carries at least two daggers and an ornate pistol on his person at all times.', 'Although he typically acts guileless, jaunty, and carefree, Chase is actually extremely perceptive and possesses an intense cunning, able to read people, their emotions, and their belongings with ease. Surprisingly impulsive for a thief, most orders and plans fly right over his head, and he often acts completely improvisationally and on the fly. Close associates claim that he utterly lacks a fear gene and proves unshakeable in even the most stressful situations. He tends to do whatever he feels like without much logic or planning, operating merely by gut instinct and whimsy, but it always miraculously works out for him. Charming and flirtatious, it\'s said that he once robbed a foreign queen with just a wink and a bow. However, despite his general attitude as a devil-may-care prankster and cheerful agent of chaos, Chase\'s deadly skills may bely a much darker past than he lets on.', 'Chase\'s personality is mischievious, teasing, charismatic, magnetic, and hard to pin down. Slippery and cryptic, he often deflects direct questions and can be extremely unpredictable, but his unique skills make him invaluable to his allies. Although he is always smiling, joking, and socializing, when it comes to his own emotions, he seems to hold others at arms\' length.' ] } >> <<else>> <<set $characterDetails to { tag: 'Chase Trinaeste', name: 'Chase Trinaeste', characterArt: settings.characterart, mainDetails: [ {label: 'Title', value: 'Thief Lord of Haven'}, {label: 'Rank', value: 'Captain, Lunar Corps'}, {label: 'Callsign', value: 'Magpie'}, {label: 'Weapon', value: 'Pistols, Daggers'}, {label: 'Race', value: 'Norm'}, {label: 'Pronouns', value: 'He/Him'} ], descParagraphs: [ 'Chase is the playful and enigmatic leader of the Thieves Guild in Haven. Acrobatic and lithe in build, he has a tan olive complexion, carefully-tousled brown hair, and sly, vivid green eyes that are almost feline in appearance. A bit vain and a lover of fine things, he loves to wear flashy rings, piercings, and colorful scarves, and can regularly go through multiple outfits in one day. His features are sleek and amused. He is a walking armory and carries at least two daggers and an ornate pistol on his person at all times.', 'Although he typically acts guileless, jaunty, and carefree, Chase is actually extremely perceptive and possesses an intense cunning, able to read people, their emotions, and their belongings with ease. Surprisingly impulsive for a thief, most orders and plans fly right over his head, and he often acts completely improvisationally and on the fly. Close associates claim that he utterly lacks a fear gene and proves unshakeable in even the most stressful situations. He tends to do whatever he feels like without much logic or planning, operating merely by gut instinct and whimsy, but it always miraculously works out for him. Charming and flirtatious, it\'s said that he once robbed a foreign queen with just a wink and a bow. However, despite his general attitude as a devil-may-care prankster and cheerful agent of chaos, Chase\'s deadly skills may bely a much darker past than he lets on.', 'Chase\'s personality is mischievious, teasing, charismatic, magnetic, and hard to pin down. Slippery and cryptic, he often deflects direct questions and can be extremely unpredictable, but his unique skills make him invaluable to his allies. Although he is always smiling, joking, and socializing, when it comes to his own emotions, he seems to hold others at arms\' length.' ] } >> <</if>> <<character_popup_details $characterDetails>> <</nobr>>

<<nobr>> <<set $characterDetails to { tag: 'Croelle', name: 'Croelle', characterArt: settings.characterart, mainDetails: [ {label: 'Title', value: 'Watcher'}, {label: 'Rank', value: '?'}, {label: 'Weapon', value: 'Whip Sword'}, {label: 'Race', value: '?'}, {label: 'Pronouns', value: 'He/Him'} ], descParagraphs: [ 'Croelle is a mysterious and sometimes crude man who tends to ask strange questions. He possesses blood-red hair, ochre eyes, and ghostly-white skin. He wears all black and obscures his features with a wide-brimmed black hat. He is tall and brimming with power.', 'Nothing is known of his motives or affiliations. He pops up in the strangest places and claims to be a "watcher" for unknown parties.', 'He seems preoccupied by questions of free will.', ] } >> <<character_popup_details $characterDetails>> <</nobr>>

<<nobr>> <<if $part < 5>> <<set $characterDetails to { tag: 'Halek Prince', name: 'Halek Prince', relationshipStatus: $halek, characterArt: settings.characterart, mainDetails: [ {label: 'Title', value: 'Sol of the Reach'}, {label: 'Rank', value: 'Captain'}, {label: 'Weapon', value: 'Spear'}, {label: 'Race', value: 'Hunter'}, {label: 'Pronouns', value: 'He/Him'} ], descParagraphs: [ 'Halek is the quiet and laidback chieftain (or "sol") of the Hunters of the Reach, the Hunters\' ancestral home. Lean and rangy from a life in the mountains, he is extremely tall and possesses the Hunters\' snow-white hair, along with storm-gray eyes, pale skin, and a perpetually sleepy expression. The back of his right hand is branded with the mark of an initiated exorcist. His features are patient and indolent.', 'Halek and his twin brother Naolin were born to omens that claimed that Halek, the firstborn, would be the savior of his people. However, despite this lofty prophecy (or perhaps because of it), Halek is quite lazy and will do anything to wriggle out of his responsibilities, slipping away to take a nap if no one is forcing him to stay put and deliberately acting like a delinquent in order to prove how unfit he is to rule. Naolin is the more responsible and hard-working of the two, but the Hunters\' laws about their leadership are ancient and unshakeable. Secretly, Halek nurses a passion for cooking and for food, but never had the chance to see the world outside of the Reach until now.', 'Halek\'s personality is pensive, lackadaisical, easygoing, and unflappable; he prefers to go with the flow, take his time, and stop to appreciate the smaller things in life rather than go charging ahead. He is quite blasphemous and regularly makes comments that would have his Hunter elders spinning in their graves. He also suffers from the same blood-rage as all Hunters, flying into a berserk rage whenever he senses an Endarkened nearby.' ] } >> <<else>> <<set $characterDetails to { tag: 'Halek Prince', name: 'Halek Prince', characterArt: settings.characterart, mainDetails: [ {label: 'Title', value: 'Sol of the Reach'}, {label: 'Rank', value: 'Captain, Lunar Corps'}, {label: 'Callsign', value: 'Reaper'}, {label: 'Weapon', value: 'Spear'}, {label: 'Race', value: 'Hunter'}, {label: 'Pronouns', value: 'He/Him'} ], descParagraphs: [ 'Halek is the quiet and laidback chieftain (or "sol") of the Hunters of the Reach, the Hunters\' ancestral home. Lean and rangy from a life in the mountains, he is extremely tall and possesses the Hunters\' snow-white hair, along with storm-gray eyes, pale skin, and a perpetually sleepy expression. The back of his right hand is branded with the mark of an initiated exorcist. His features are patient and indolent.', 'Halek and his twin brother Naolin were born to omens that claimed that Halek, the firstborn, would be the savior of his people. However, despite this lofty prophecy (or perhaps because of it), Halek is quite lazy and will do anything to wriggle out of his responsibilities, slipping away to take a nap if no one is forcing him to stay put and deliberately acting like a delinquent in order to prove how unfit he is to rule. Naolin is the more responsible and hard-working of the two, but the Hunters\' laws about their leadership are ancient and unshakeable. Secretly, Halek nurses a passion for cooking and for food, but never had the chance to see the world outside of the Reach until now.', 'Halek\'s personality is pensive, lackadaisical, easygoing, and unflappable; he prefers to go with the flow, take his time, and stop to appreciate the smaller things in life rather than go charging ahead. He is quite blasphemous and regularly makes comments that would have his Hunter elders spinning in their graves. He also suffers from the same blood-rage as all Hunters, flying into a berserk rage whenever he senses an Endarkened nearby.' ] } >> <</if>> <<character_popup_details $characterDetails>> <</nobr>>

<<nobr>> <<if $lavinetcolor is "auburn">> <<set $characterDetails to { tag: 'Lavinet Naveen', name: 'Lavinet Naveen', relationshipStatus: $lavinet, characterArt: settings.characterart, lavinetColor: $lavinetcolor, mainDetails: [ {label: 'Title', value: 'Lady of Lockwood'}, {label: 'Rank', value: 'Captain, Lunar Corps'}, {label: 'Callsign', value: 'Belldonna'}, {label: 'Weapon', value: 'Rapier, Lance'}, {label: 'Race', value: 'Norm'}, {label: 'Pronouns', value: 'She/Her'} ], descParagraphs: [ 'Lavinet is the striking, refined heiress to the Lockwood fiefdom, a small but prosperous territory far north of Haven. Elegant, buxom, and curvaceous, she has chest-length wavy auburn hair, long-lashed wine-colored eyes, and full lips that poets have written about. Though her beauty is famed throughout her region, she is by no means delicate, standing at a statuesque and imposing height and sporting strong, imperial, and patrician features. She is the older cousin of Prihine Naveen.', 'The eldest of three daughters, Lavinet is an impassioned aristocrat who longs to do good in the world, though she can sometimes be out-of-touch to its realities due to her privileged upbringing. Nevertheless, she is an extremely talented courtier and politician, playing "the Grand Illusion" with rare finesse and grace for a young noblewoman of her generation. An ordained chevalier, her sharp wit and political cunning are matched by her talents with a rapier and a lance. She is famously stubborn and hard-headed, undergoing military training against convention. Her father once attempted to marry her off when she reached the age of majority, but relented when Lavinet burned his rose garden down in protest.', 'Lavinet\'s personality is generous, cunning, gossipy, ambitious, and vivacious. A sparkling conversationalist, she can be vain or self-absorbed at times, but recognizes this within herself and consciously strives to put others first. As a die-hard romantic, she believes that wealth and aristocracy do her no good unless they can help her achieve her dreams, which include finding true and ever-lasting love.' ] } >> <<else>> <<set $characterDetails to { tag: 'Lavinet Naveen', name: 'Lavinet Naveen', characterArt: settings.characterart, mainDetails: [ {label: 'Title', value: 'Lady of Lockwood'}, {label: 'Rank', value: 'Captain, Lunar Corps'}, {label: 'Callsign', value: 'Belldonna'}, {label: 'Weapon', value: 'Rapier, Lance'}, {label: 'Race', value: 'Norm'}, {label: 'Pronouns', value: 'She/Her'} ], descParagraphs: [ 'Lavinet is the striking, refined heiress to the Lockwood fiefdom, a small but prosperous territory far north of Haven. Elegant, buxom, and curvaceous, she has chest-length wavy lavender hair, long-lashed wine-colored eyes, and full lips that poets have written about. Though her beauty is famed throughout her region, she is by no means delicate, standing at a statuesque and imposing height and sporting strong, imperial, and patrician features. She is the older cousin of Prihine Naveen.', 'The eldest of three daughters, Lavinet is an impassioned aristocrat who longs to do good in the world, though she can sometimes be out-of-touch to its realities due to her privileged upbringing. Nevertheless, she is an extremely talented courtier and politician, playing "the Grand Illusion" with rare finesse and grace for a young noblewoman of her generation. An ordained chevalier, her sharp wit and political cunning are matched by her talents with a rapier and a lance. She is famously stubborn and hard-headed, undergoing military training against convention. Her father once attempted to marry her off when she reached the age of majority, but relented when Lavinet burned his rose garden down in protest.', 'Lavinet\'s personality is generous, cunning, gossipy, ambitious, and vivacious. A sparkling conversationalist, she can be vain or self-absorbed at times, but recognizes this within herself and consciously strives to put others first. As a die-hard romantic, she believes that wealth and aristocracy do her no good unless they can help her achieve her dreams, which include finding true and ever-lasting love.' ] } >> <</if>> <<character_popup_details $characterDetails>> <</nobr>>

<<nobr>> <<set $characterDetails to { tag: 'Mimir Esthin', name: 'Mimir Esthin', relationshipStatus: $mimir, characterArt: settings.characterart, mainDetails: [ {label: 'Title', value: 'Sister of the Silver Eye'}, {label: 'Callsign', value: 'Oracle'}, {label: 'Race', value: 'Mage'}, {label: 'Pronouns', value: 'She/Her'} ], descParagraphs: [ 'Mimir is a traveling Seer who claims to receive visions of the future. Pale, fragile-looking, and extremely thin, she has an underfed and skeletal look, sporting waist-length, wavy black hair that grows in snarls and tangles and milky silver eyes. She usually walks barefoot and often wears a trailing, translucent veil to shroud her face and senses from the outside world. Her features are distant and detached.', 'Very little is known about Mimir\'s origins or even her true personality. She claims to be a Sister of the Silver Eye: one of three ancient prophetesses who were once widely worshipped for their abilities. Where her visions come from, and how accurate they are, is left up to debate, as Mimir can only vaguely sense what is happening in the present and can sometimes forget the past almost completely. Her mind seems always caught in the future.', 'Although many believe her silver eyes indicate she is blind, Mimir can actually "see" perfectly well. However, it is difficult for her to distinguish between the threads of the present and the future, causing her to ignore things that may be right in front of her. She prefers silence and solitude and can often be found sleeping outside or keeping to herself in a hidden corner of the room. However, she is happy to divulge the details of one\'s possible future if asked.' ] } >> <<character_popup_details $characterDetails>> <</nobr>>

<<nobr>> <<if $prihinedead is false and $bothdead is false and $rielinvestigation is true>> <<set $characterDetails to { tag: 'Prihine Naveen', name: 'Prihine Naveen', characterArt: settings.characterart, mainDetails: [ {label: 'Title', value: 'Sun Courtier'}, {label: 'Race', value: 'Norm'}, {label: 'Pronouns', value: 'She/Her'} ], descParagraphs: [ 'Prihine Naveen is an arrogant and demanding Norm noblewoman whom you were hired to protect on her way to her wedding in Haven. Betrothed to a powerful minister of the Autarchy, she is slender in build, with long, wavy, ash-blonde hair and long-lashed gray eyes. Although she is considered by most to be pretty, her features are often pinched and pointed in displeasure. She often acts out and throws temper tantrums, but at the heart of it all, she seems to be very lonely and isolated from the world.', 'She has demonstrated surprising political acumen and ambition, and seems capable of wielding her husband\'s power and wealth for good. Your actions seem to have had a long-standing impact on her, even if she won\'t outright admit it.' ] } >> <<elseif $prihinedead is false and $bothdead is false>> <<set $characterDetails to { tag: 'Prihine Naveen', name: 'Prihine Naveen', characterArt: settings.characterart, mainDetails: [ {label: 'Title', value: 'Sun Courtier'}, {label: 'Race', value: 'Norm'}, {label: 'Pronouns', value: 'She/Her'} ], descParagraphs: [ 'Prihine Naveen is an arrogant and demanding Norm noblewoman whom you were hired to protect on her way to her wedding in Haven. Betrothed to a powerful minister of the Autarchy, she is slender in build, with long, wavy, ash-blonde hair and long-lashed gray eyes. Although she is considered by most to be pretty, her features are often pinched and pointed in displeasure.', 'She often acts out and throws temper tantrums, but at the heart of it all, she seems to be very lonely and isolated from the world.' ] } >> <<else>> <<set $characterDetails to { tag: 'Prihine Naveen', name: 'Prihine Naveen', characterArt: settings.characterart, mainDetails: [ {label: 'Title', value: 'Wayward Client'}, {label: 'Race', value: 'Norm'}, {label: 'Pronouns', value: 'She/Her'} ], descParagraphs: [ 'Prihine Naveen was the arrogant and demanding Norm noblewoman whom you were hired to protect on her way to her wedding in Haven. She was killed at the altar by Endarkened who had invaded the ceremony.' ] } >> <</if>> <<character_popup_details $characterDetails>> <</nobr>>

<<nobr>> <<if $part < 5>> <<set $characterDetails to { tag: 'Red Antiqua', name: 'Red Antiqua', relationshipStatus: $red, characterArt: settings.characterart, mainDetails: [ {label: 'Title', value: 'Archmage of the Veiled Circle'}, {label: 'Rank', value: 'Captain'}, {label: 'Weapon', value: 'Warhammer'}, {label: 'Race', value: 'Mage'}, {label: 'Pronouns', value: 'He/Him'} ], descParagraphs: [ 'Liefred or "Red" Antiqua is the honest and charismatic Mage who serves as the leader of the Veiled Circle in Capra. Tall and tan, he has vivid red, styled hair parted to the side and expressive green eyes, along with a lean, lanky build and a strong jawline. He has a faint scar on his chin from an incident when he was younger and is often seen carrying around a magical warhammer that seems far too heavy for him. His features are pleasant, mild-mannered, and inquisitive.', 'The youngest child with four older sisters, Red is a friend to all and well-liked for his considerate, thoughtful, sensible, and polite demeanor. He is an excellent listener and is always ready to lend a hand or a shoulder to cry on, demonstrating exemplary communication skills and high emotional intelligence. However, he can become fixated on his research and quest for knowledge, freely toying with powers that should not be disturbed. He spends his time exploring the ruins of the past and is a Traveler: a magic-user who can teleport instantaneously across great distances. He was not expecting to have the burden of leadership thrust upon him and serves as Archmage only out of a sense of obligation, but will slip away from his duties to poke around in caves or toil away in his magical workshop whenever he can.', 'Red\'s personality is easygoing, inquisitive, friendly, intelligent, and talkative. A known lover of books and academia, he nevertheless also touts an unfortunate reputation for being a playboy, inadvertently causing others to fall in love with him without actually being ready to settle down.' ] } >> <<else>> <<set $characterDetails to { tag: 'Red Antiqua', name: 'Red Antiqua', characterArt: settings.characterart, mainDetails: [ {label: 'Title', value: 'Archmage of the Veiled Circle'}, {label: 'Rank', value: 'Captain, Lunar Corps'}, {label: 'Callsign', value: 'Voyager'}, {label: 'Weapon', value: 'Warhammer'}, {label: 'Race', value: 'Mage'}, {label: 'Pronouns', value: 'He/Him'} ], descParagraphs: [ 'Liefred or "Red" Antiqua is the honest and charismatic Mage who serves as the leader of the Veiled Circle in Capra. Tall and tan, he has vivid red, styled hair parted to the side and expressive green eyes, along with a lean, lanky build and a strong jawline. He has a faint scar on his chin from an incident when he was younger and is often seen carrying around a magical warhammer that seems far too heavy for him. His features are pleasant, mild-mannered, and inquisitive.', 'The youngest child with four older sisters, Red is a friend to all and well-liked for his considerate, thoughtful, sensible, and polite demeanor. He is an excellent listener and is always ready to lend a hand or a shoulder to cry on, demonstrating exemplary communication skills and high emotional intelligence. However, he can become fixated on his research and quest for knowledge, freely toying with powers that should not be disturbed. He spends his time exploring the ruins of the past and is a Traveler: a magic-user who can teleport instanteously across great distances. He was not expecting to have the burden of leadership thrust upon him and serves as Archmage only out of a sense of obligation, but will slip away from his duties to poke around in caves or toil away in his magical workshop whenever he can.', 'Red\'s personality is easygoing, inquisitive, friendly, intelligent, and talkative. A known lover of books and academia, he nevertheless also touts an unfortunate reputation for being a playboy, inadvertently causing others to fall in love with him without actually being ready to settle down.' ] } >> <</if>> <<character_popup_details $characterDetails>> <</nobr>>

<<nobr>> <<if $part < 5>> <<set $characterDetails to { tag: 'Riel Syndran', name: 'Riel Syndran', relationshipStatus: $riel, characterArt: settings.characterart, mainDetails: [ {label: 'Title', value: 'Merchant Prince of Haven'}, {label: 'Rank', value: 'Officer'}, {label: 'Race', value: 'Norm'}, {label: 'Pronouns', value: 'He/Him'} ], descParagraphs: [ 'Riel is the strict, exacting, and ruthlessly logical leader of the Merchants Guild in Haven. Slim and scholarly in build, he has neat, slicked black hair that is never a strand out of place, as well as thin, angular shoulders and very pale skin. He has pianist\'s hands, narrow and delicate wrists, and very pale skin, and always sports very dark circles under his icy blue eyes. Some people find his smile slightly unnerving, almost vampiric. His features are sharp and intelligent, and he habitually carries a sleek walking stick with him, its head bearing the Merchants Guild symbol of a rat.', 'Acerbic, cutting, and wickedly clever and cunning, Riel has been hailed as a genius of his time. A known workaholic, he dabbles in both inventing and history, displaying a near-photographic memory, remarkable problem-solving skills, and multiple university degrees. Despite his sophisticated demeanor and impeccable etiquette, however, Riel is as ruthless as a ganglord and has been rumored to eliminate business and political rivals by any means necessary. He can famously predict others\' thoughts just by looking at them, nurturing a budding talent for interrogation and tactics, and it\'s said without irony that he is often thinking twelve moves ahead of everyone else. He is a lover of both sweets and the opera.', 'Aside from his intelligence, Riel\'s personality is sardonic, methodical, incisive, demanding, and somewhat temperamental. Despite his success in business negotiations, he is famously difficult to work with, manipulative towards his enemies, and extremely neat, bordering on neurotic, easily preoccupied by asymmetry and lack of orderliness. Although he has displayed zero hesitation in destroying his competition, he secretly funds many charities and supports the Diminished people of Haven—though whether this might be penance for his other crimes, no one is quite sure.' ] } >> <<elseif $part >= 5 and $part < 8>> <<set $characterDetails to { tag: 'Riel Syndran', name: 'Riel Syndran', characterArt: settings.characterart, mainDetails: [ {label: 'Title', value: 'Merchant Prince of Haven'}, {label: 'Rank', value: 'Officer, Solar Corps'}, {label: 'Callsign', value: 'Architect'}, {label: 'Race', value: 'Norm'}, {label: 'Pronouns', value: 'He/Him'} ], descParagraphs: [ 'Riel is the strict, exacting, and ruthlessly logical leader of the Merchants Guild in Haven. Slim and scholarly in build, he has neat, slicked black hair that is never a strand out of place, as well as thin, angular shoulders and very pale skin. He has pianist\'s hands, narrow and delicate wrists, and always sports very dark circles under his icy blue eyes. Some people find his smile slightly unnerving, almost vampiric. His features are sharp and intelligent, and he habitually carries a sleek walking stick with him, its head bearing the Merchants Guild symbol of a rat.', 'Acerbic, cutting, and wickedly clever and cunning, Riel has been hailed as a genius of his time. A known workaholic, he dabbles in both inventing and history, displaying a near-photographic memory, remarkable problem-solving skills, and multiple university degrees. Despite his sophisticated demeanor and impeccable etiquette, however, Riel is as ruthless as a ganglord and has been rumored to eliminate business and political rivals by any means necessary. He can famously predict others\' thoughts just by looking at them, nurturing a budding talent for interrogation and tactics, and it\'s said without irony that he is often thinking twelve moves ahead of everyone else. He is a lover of both sweets and the opera.', 'Aside from his intelligence, Riel\'s personality is sardonic, methodical, incisive, demanding, and somewhat temperamental. Despite his success in business negotiations, he is famously difficult to work with, manipulative towards his enemies, and extremely neat, bordering on neurotic, easily preoccupied by asymmetry and lack of orderliness. Although he has displayed zero hesitation in destroying his competition, he secretly funds many charities and supports the Diminished people of Haven—though whether this might be penance for his other crimes, no one is quite sure.' ] } >> <<else>> <<set $characterDetails to { tag: 'Riel Syndran', name: 'Riel Syndran', characterArt: settings.characterart, mainDetails: [ {label: 'Title', value: 'Merchant Prince of Haven'}, {label: 'Rank', value: 'Commander-Seneschal, Solar Corps'}, {label: 'Callsign', value: 'Architect'}, {label: 'Race', value: 'Norm'}, {label: 'Pronouns', value: 'He/Him'} ], descParagraphs: [ 'Riel is the strict, exacting, and ruthlessly logical former leader of the Merchants Guild in Haven. Slim and scholarly in build, he has neat, slicked black hair that is never a strand out of place, as well as thin, angular shoulders and very pale skin. He has pianist\'s hands, narrow and delicate wrists, and always sports very dark circles under his icy blue eyes. Some people find his smile slightly unnerving, almost vampiric. His features are sharp and intelligent, and he habitually carries a sleek walking stick with him, its head bearing the Merchants Guild symbol of a rat.', 'Acerbic, cutting, and wickedly clever and cunning, Riel has been hailed as a genius of his time. A known workaholic, he dabbles in both inventing and history, displaying a near-photographic memory, remarkable problem-solving skills, and multiple university degrees. Despite his sophisticated demeanor and impeccable etiquette, however, Riel is as ruthless as a ganglord and has been rumored to eliminate business and political rivals by any means necessary. He can famously predict others\' thoughts just by looking at them, nurturing a budding talent for interrogation and tactics, and it\'s said without irony that he is often thinking twelve moves ahead of everyone else. He is a lover of both sweets and the opera.', 'Aside from his intelligence, Riel\'s personality is sardonic, methodical, incisive, demanding, and somewhat temperamental. Despite his success in business negotiations, he is famously difficult to work with, manipulative towards his enemies, and extremely neat, bordering on neurotic, easily preoccupied by asymmetry and lack of orderliness. Although he has displayed zero hesitation in destroying his competition, he secretly funds many charities and supports the Diminished people of Haven—though whether this might be penance for his other crimes, no one is quite sure.' ] } >> <</if>> <<character_popup_details $characterDetails>> <</nobr>>

<<nobr>> <<if $part < 5>> <<set $characterDetails to { tag: 'Shery Acquell', name: 'Shery Acquell', relationshipStatus: $shery, characterArt: settings.characterart, mainDetails: [ {label: 'Title', value: 'Quartermaster of the Shepherds'}, {label: 'Rank', value: 'Officer'}, {label: 'Race', value: 'Norm'}, {label: 'Pronouns', value: 'She/Her'} ], descParagraphs: [ 'Shery Acquell is the Shepherds\' chief of staff and quartermaster, in charge of housing, requisitions, and supplies for the Order. Petite and short of stature, she has chest-length pale blonde hair that she tends to hide behind and long-lashed blue eyes framed by thin spectacles. Rounder and softer than the other battle-hardened Shepherds, she has nail-bitten, expressive hands and timid, sweet, delicate features.', 'Shery was raised in Haven all her life and is a devout follower of the One-God. She is extremely organized and efficient, able to take hectic administrative situations in stride, but she can have trouble getting others to follow her orders. She is also a self-professed coward, possessing a phobia of horseback riding and intense combat situations, and she has never left the confines of the city. Paradoxically, however, she has demonstrated a keen interest in exploring the mysterious Vaults lying beneath the Shepherd headquarters and possesses a highly intelligent, scholarly streak. She is also a lover of romance novels.', 'Shery\'s personality is kind-spirited, caring, earnest, shy, and soft-spoken. She seems to have trouble speaking her mind in front of others, but otherwise loves to look after them and create a home for them, baking sweets and knitting handmade gifts in her off-time. She seems to be hesitant about getting too close to other Shepherds, however, out of fear of what will happen if they are killed in action.' ] } >> <<elseif $part >= 5 and $part < 8>> <<set $characterDetails to { tag: 'Shery Acquell', name: 'Shery Acquell', characterArt: settings.characterart, mainDetails: [ {label: 'Title', value: 'Quartermaster of the Shepherds'}, {label: 'Rank', value: 'Officer, Solar Corps'}, {label: 'Callsign', value: 'Keykeeper'}, {label: 'Race', value: 'Norm'}, {label: 'Pronouns', value: 'She/Her'} ], descParagraphs: [ 'Shery Acquell is the Shepherds\' chief of staff and quartermaster, in charge of housing, requisitions, and supplies for the Order. Petite and short of stature, she has chest-length pale blonde hair that she tends to hide behind and long-lashed blue eyes framed by thin spectacles. Rounder and softer than the other battle-hardened Shepherds, she has nail-bitten, expressive hands and timid, sweet, delicate features.', 'Shery was raised in Haven all her life and is a devout follower of the One-God. She is extremely organized and efficient, able to take hectic administrative situations in stride, but she can have trouble getting others to follow her orders. She is also a self-professed coward, possessing a phobia of horseback riding and intense combat situations, and she has never left the confines of the city. Paradoxically, however, she has demonstrated a keen interest in exploring the mysterious Vaults lying beneath the Shepherd headquarters and possesses a highly intelligent, scholarly streak. She is also a lover of romance novels.', 'Shery\'s personality is kind-spirited, caring, earnest, shy, and soft-spoken. She seems to have trouble speaking her mind in front of others, but otherwise loves to look after them and create a home for them, baking sweets and knitting handmade gifts in her off-time. She seems to be hesitant about getting too close to other Shepherds, however, out of fear of what will happen if they are killed in action.' ] } >> <<else>> <<set $characterDetails to { tag: 'Shery Acquell', name: 'Shery Acquell', characterArt: settings.characterart, mainDetails: [ {label: 'Title', value: 'Quartermaster of the Shepherds'}, {label: 'Rank', value: 'Captain, Solar Corps'}, {label: 'Callsign', value: 'Keykeeper'}, {label: 'Race', value: 'Norm'}, {label: 'Pronouns', value: 'She/Her'} ], descParagraphs: [ 'Shery Acquell is the Shepherds\' chief of staff and quartermaster, in charge of housing, requisitions, and supplies for the Order. Petite and short of stature, she has chest-length pale blonde hair that she tends to hide behind and long-lashed blue eyes framed by thin spectacles. Rounder and softer than the other battle-hardened Shepherds, she has nail-bitten, expressive hands and timid, sweet, delicate features.', 'Shery was raised in Haven all her life and is a devout follower of the One-God. She is extremely organized and efficient, able to take hectic administrative situations in stride, but she can have trouble getting others to follow her orders. She is also a self-professed coward, possessing a phobia of horseback riding and intense combat situations, and she has never left the confines of the city. Paradoxically, however, she has demonstrated a keen interest in exploring the mysterious Vaults lying beneath the Shepherd headquarters and possesses a highly intelligent, scholarly streak. She is also a lover of romance novels.', 'Shery\'s personality is kind-spirited, caring, earnest, shy, and soft-spoken. She seems to have trouble speaking her mind in front of others, but otherwise loves to look after them and create a home for them, baking sweets and knitting handmade gifts in her off-time. She seems to be hesitant about getting too close to other Shepherds, however, out of fear of what will happen if they are killed in action.' ] } >> <</if>> <<character_popup_details $characterDetails>> <</nobr>>

<<nobr>> <<if $part < 5>> <<set $characterDetails to { tag: 'Tallys Ironwood', name: 'Tallys Ironwood', relationshipStatus: $tallys, characterArt: settings.characterart, mainDetails: [ {label: 'Title', value: 'Third-in-Command of the Shepherds'}, {label: 'Rank', value: 'Captain'}, {label: 'Weapon', value: 'Elven Bow and Arrows'}, {label: 'Race', value: 'Elf'}, {label: 'Pronouns', value: 'She/Her'} ], descParagraphs: [ 'Tallys Ironwood is the Shepherds\' reserved and level-headed Elven archer who serves as one of Blade\'s lieutenants and the Order\'s third-in-command. Tawny-skinned and willowy, she has shorn, chin-length hair the color of chestnuts and cool, forest-green eyes. Her pointed ears are rarely visible, but she frequently sports the calm and placid expression common to the Elves.', 'Before she came to Haven, Tallys served as her tribe\'s Keeper, preserving the clan\'s long history and knowledge and acting as an important advisor when it came to seeking wisdom from the past. However, her clan was ultimately destroyed by Inquisitors, and she has never forgiven those who are responsible—including the Norm farmers who reported her people to the authorities in the first place. Although her new position involves working for the Autarchy, she serves as a Shepherd only as a way to ensure that other Diminished folk are protected from the Endarkened threat.', 'Tallys\'s personality is calm, composed, cautious, thoughtful, and wise. She can be nurturing towards her teammates in some circumstances, looking after their wellbeing and imposing order on their chaos, while she can also seem withdrawn and aloof at other times, often seeking the solitude of nature and Elven meditative rituals. Although she can seem indifferent, she nurses the desire for revenge deep within her heart.' ] } >> <<elseif $part >= 5 and $part < 8>> <<set $characterDetails to { tag: 'Tallys Ironwood', name: 'Tallys Ironwood', characterArt: settings.characterart, mainDetails: [ {label: 'Title', value: 'Third-in-Command of the Shepherds'}, {label: 'Rank', value: 'Captain, Lunar Corps'}, {label: 'Callsign', value: 'Thorn'}, {label: 'Weapon', value: 'Elven Bow and Arrows'}, {label: 'Race', value: 'Elf'}, {label: 'Pronouns', value: 'She/Her'} ], descParagraphs: [ 'Tallys Ironwood is the Shepherds\' reserved and level-headed Elven archer who serves as one of Blade\'s lieutenants and the Order\'s third-in-command. Tawny-skinned and willowy, she has shorn, chin-length hair the color of chestnuts and cool, forest-green eyes. Her pointed ears are rarely visible, but she frequently sports the calm and placid expression common to the Elves.', 'Before she came to Haven, Tallys served as her tribe\'s Keeper, preserving the clan\'s long history and knowledge and acting as an important advisor when it came to seeking wisdom from the past. However, her clan was ultimately destroyed by Inquisitors, and she has never forgiven those who are responsible—including the Norm farmers who reported her people to the authorities in the first place. Although her new position involves working for the Autarchy, she serves as a Shepherd only as a way to ensure that other Diminished folk are protected from the Endarkened threat.', 'Tallys\'s personality is calm, composed, cautious, thoughtful, and wise. She can be nurturing towards her teammates in some circumstances, looking after their wellbeing and imposing order on their chaos, while she can also seem withdrawn and aloof at other times, often seeking the solitude of nature and Elven meditative rituals. Although she can seem indifferent, she nurses the desire for revenge deep within her heart.' ] } >> <<else>> <<set $characterDetails to { tag: 'Tallys Ironwood', name: 'Tallys Ironwood', characterArt: settings.characterart, mainDetails: [ {label: 'Title', value: 'Keeper of the House of Ironwood'}, {label: 'Rank', value: 'Captain, Lunar Corps'}, {label: 'Callsign', value: 'Thorn'}, {label: 'Weapon', value: 'Elven Bow and Arrows'}, {label: 'Race', value: 'Elf'}, {label: 'Pronouns', value: 'She/Her'} ], descParagraphs: [ 'Tallys Ironwood is the Shepherds\' reserved and level-headed Elven archer who serves as one of Blade\'s lieutenants and the Order\'s third-in-command. Tawny-skinned and willowy, she has shorn, chin-length hair the color of chestnuts and cool, forest-green eyes. Her pointed ears are rarely visible, but she frequently sports the calm and placid expression common to the Elves.', 'Before she came to Haven, Tallys served as her tribe\'s Keeper, preserving the clan\'s long history and knowledge and acting as an important advisor when it came to seeking wisdom from the past. However, her clan was ultimately destroyed by Inquisitors, and she has never forgiven those who are responsible—including the Norm farmers who reported her people to the authorities in the first place. Although her new position involves working for the Autarchy, she serves as a Shepherd only as a way to ensure that other Diminished folk are protected from the Endarkened threat.', 'Tallys\'s personality is calm, composed, cautious, thoughtful, and wise. She can be nurturing towards her teammates in some circumstances, looking after their wellbeing and imposing order on their chaos, while she can also seem withdrawn and aloof at other times, often seeking the solitude of nature and Elven meditative rituals. Although she can seem indifferent, she nurses the desire for revenge deep within her heart.' ] } >> <</if>> <<character_popup_details $characterDetails>> <</nobr>>

<<nobr>> <<if $part < 5>> <<set $characterDetails to { tag: 'Trouble Alder', name: 'Trouble Alder', relationshipStatus: $trouble, characterArt: settings.characterart, mainDetails: [ {label: 'Title', value: 'Vice-Commander of the Shepherds'}, {label: 'Rank', value: 'Vice-Commander'}, {label: 'Weapon', value: 'Sniper Rifle, Pistols'}, {label: 'Race', value: 'Norm'}, {label: 'Pronouns', value: 'He/Him'} ], descParagraphs: [ 'Trouble is the good-hearted but hot-tempered vice-commander of the Shepherds. He has short hair the color of a lion\'s coat, a hard and square-jawed face, and blue eyes with a strange gold ring around the pupils. His build is dense and compact with muscle, and he always wears white gloves that stand out against his tan, ruddy skin. His features are blunt and honest. An expert gunslinger, he often carries at least one dueling pistol at his hip or tucked behind his waistband, as well as a sniper rifle slung over his shoulder.', 'True to his name, Trouble never seems to be able to walk away from a fight. He wears his emotions on his sleeve and is always unfailingly loyal to his friends. Although he is generally friendly and amiable, he tolerates no insults to his pride and can punch someone\'s lights out at the drop of a dime, demonstrating a strong propensity for getting involved in fistfights. Orphaned at a young age, he grew up in the slums of Haven, scraping by as a street-fighter while surviving as part of an orphan gang, and he is acutely familiar with the city\'s nooks and crannies... as well as the darknesses it can hold within.', 'Trouble\'s personality is courageous, bold, outspoken, reckless, impulsive, and compassionate. He can chafe against orders he doesn\'t agree with and sometimes says the wrong thing or speaks harshly in the heat of the moment. Despite this, he maintains a strong popularity among the commonfolk of the district. Trouble is not his real name, but no one knows what his birth name is.' ] } >> <<else>> <<set $characterDetails to { tag: 'Trouble Alder', name: 'Trouble Alder', characterArt: settings.characterart, mainDetails: [ {label: 'Title', value: 'Vice-Commander of the Shepherds'}, {label: 'Rank', value: 'Vice-Commander, Lunar Corps'}, {label: 'Callsign', value: 'Deadeye'}, {label: 'Weapon', value: 'Sniper Rifle, Pistols'}, {label: 'Race', value: 'Norm'}, {label: 'Pronouns', value: 'He/Him'} ], descParagraphs: [ 'Trouble is the good-hearted but hot-tempered vice-commander of the Shepherds. He has short hair the color of a lion\'s coat, a hard and square-jawed face, and blue eyes with a strange gold ring around the pupils. His build is dense and compact with muscle, and he always wears white gloves that stand out against his tan, ruddy skin. His features are blunt and honest. An expert gunslinger, he often carries at least one dueling pistol at his hip or tucked behind his waistband, as well as a sniper rifle slung over his shoulder.', 'True to his name, Trouble never seems to be able to walk away from a fight. He wears his emotions on his sleeve and is always unfailingly loyal to his friends. Although he is naturally kind and compassionate, he can also punch someone\'s lights out at the drop of a dime and has a propensity for getting involved in fistfights. Orphaned at a young age, he grew up in the slums of Haven, scraping by as a street-fighter while surviving as part of an orphan gang, and he is acutely familiar with the city\'s nooks and crannies... as well as the darknesses it can hold within.', 'Trouble\'s personality is courageous, bold, outspoken, reckless, and compassionate. While he is generally empathetic and caring towards others, he sometimes says the wrong thing or speaks harshly in the heat of the moment. Despite this, he maintains a strong popularity among the commonfolk of the district. Trouble is not his real name, but no one knows what his birth name is.' ] } >> <</if>> <<character_popup_details $characterDetails>> <</nobr>>

<<nobr>><<set $calendarvisit to true>><</nobr>>The Blest year lasts 504 days. There are four seasons and eight months, meaning that each season lasts two months. In an eight-month year, each month is exactly 63 days long. <center><b>Months</b></center><table> <tr> <th><b>Summer</b></th> <th><b>Autumn</b></th> <th><b>Winter</b></th> <th><b>Spring</b></th> </tr> <tr> <td>Kthili</td> <td>Coppersun</td> <td>Leph</td> <td>Loa</td> </tr> <tr> <td>Zellea</td> <td>Ashar</td> <td>Ysk</td> <td>Camoa</td> </tr> </table> <center><b>Birthdays</b></center><table> <tr> <th>Kthili</th> <th>Zellea</th> <th>Coppersun</th> <th>Ashar</th> <th>Leph</th> <th>Ysk</th> <th>Loa</th> <th>Camoa</th> </tr> <tr> <td><<if $cainejoin>>Caine: Kthili 16<<else>><</if>></td> <td><<if $trouble >= 70>>Trouble: Zellea 49<<else>>???<</if>></td> <td><<if $riel >= 70>>Riel: Coppersun 17<<else>>???<</if>></td> <td><<if $chase >= 70>>Chase: Ashar 13<<else>>???<</if>></td> <td><<if $red >= 70>>Red: Leph 3<<else>>???<</if>></td> <td><<if $blade>= 70>>Blade: Ysk 5<<else>>???<</if>></td> <td><<if $shery >= 70>>Shery: Loa 29<<else>>???<</if>></td> <td><<if $briony >= 70>>Briony: Camoa 7<<else>>???<</if>></td> </tr> <tr> <td><<if $ayla >= 70>>Ayla: Kthili 51<<else>>???<</if>></td> <td></td> <td></td> <td></td> <td><<if $halek >= 70>>Halek: Leph 42<<else>>???<</if>></td> <td></td> <td><<if $lavinet >= 70>>Lavinet: Loa 33<<else>>???<</if>></td> <td><<if $tallys >= 70>>Tallys: Camoa 20<<else>>???<</if>></td> </tr> </table> <div class="flex-column col-1 text-center"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/codex/calendar.png" class="" /> </div>

<<codex_menu>> <<nobr>> <<if settings.music is true>><<audio "pageturn" volume 0.5 play>><</if>> /* Simply define navigation linkes and their names, as array of array, where item at 0, is name of navigation, and item at 1 is the passage name of the journal entry, i.e. prologue_entry, or chapter_1_entry ** I suggest saving all of these under twee/gui/profile/journal_entries, but location/naming can be customized at will IMPORTANT -> right now contents of all entries will be prepared and hidden in DOM, which is probably fine up to 10k words total, but if there were more we'll probably have to rework to a more dynamic system of loading passages/journal entries, and not just hiding them in DOM if they aren ot currently viewed */ /* {linkType: "redirectToPassage", name: "Calendar", passageTag: "Calendar"}, */ <<set $navigationLinks to { story: { tabKey: "story", tabName: "STORY", tabLinks: [ {hideItem: $part < 1, name: "The Shepherd's Oath", passageTag: "shepherdsoath"}, {hideItem: $part < 5, name: "Callsigns", passageTag: "callsigns_doc"}, {hideItem: $part < 2, name: "Regarding Jurisdiction", passageTag: "jurisdiction_doc"}, {hideItem: $blueprint1 is false, name: "Blueprint Notes", passageTag: "blueprints_doc"}, {hideItem: $blueprint1 is false, linkType: "redirectToPassage", name: "The Founding of the Shepherds [CLIP]", passageTag: "newspapershepherds_doc"}, {name: "Contract of Employment", passageTag: "contract_doc"}, ] }, history: { tabKey: "history", tabName: "HISTORY", tabLinks: [ /* just example of hiding first link -> so by default, second link (hThe Old Gods) should be shown*/ {name: "Notes on the Castigation", passageTag: "castigation_doc"}, {hideItem: $forgottenpeoples is false, name: "The Forgotten Peoples of Blest", passageTag: "forgottenpeoples_doc"}, ] }, culture: { tabKey: "culture", tabName: "CULTURE", tabLinks: [ {name: "Traveler's Guide to Haven", passageTag: "haventourist_doc"}, {linkType: "redirectToPassage", name: "Calendar [DOCUMENT]", passageTag: "Calendar"}, {hideItem: $part < 2 or $calendarvisit is false, name: "Holiday Guide", passageTag: "holidays_doc"}, {hideItem: $charm is "", name: "Candle Day Talismans", passageTag: "floriography"}, {hideItem: $troubletime < 1, name: "The Drunken Mage", passageTag: "thedrunkenmage_doc"}, {hideItem: $specialization is "", name: "The Magics of Blest", passageTag: "magicsofblest_doc"}, {hideItem: $redjoin is false, name: "The Seven Trials", passageTag: "seventrials_doc"}, {hideItem: $bladetime < 1, name: "The Ways of the Ket", passageTag: "waysoftheket_doc"}, {hideItem: $bladetime < 4, name: "Mages and Ket", passageTag: "magesandket_doc"}, {hideItem: $needelvish is false, name: "Elvish Honorifics", passageTag: "elvishsuffixes_doc"}, {hideItem: $part < 6, name: "The Rising Sun", passageTag: "therisingsun_doc"}, {hideItem: $part < 6, name: "Secrets of a Sun Courtier", passageTag: "suncourtier_doc"}, {hideItem: $fashion is false, name: "Lady Tatler", passageTag: "ladytatler_doc"}, {hideItem: $part < 7, name: "Sample Menu of Foods", passageTag: "menufoods_doc"}, ] }, religion: { tabKey: "religion", tabName: "RELIGION", tabLinks: [ /* Example: all of the items are hidden, so by default, no links should be printed for category, and a "no entries yet in thsi tab text shown" */ {name: "The Dawn Wars", passageTag: "canticleoflight_doc"}, {hideItem: $part < 1, name: "The Old Gods", passageTag: "oldgods_doc"}, {hideItem: $churchvisit < 1, name: "The Doctrine of the One", passageTag: "onegod_doc"}, {hideItem: $part < 5, name: "The Four Hierophants", passageTag: "hierophants_doc" } ] }, endarkened: { tabKey: "endarkened", tabName: "ENDARKENED", tabLinks: [ {name: "The Book of Demons", passageTag: "demonclasses_doc"}, {hideItem: $cacophant is false, name: "The Faceless Lords", passageTag: "facelesslords_doc"}, {hideItem: $part < 4, name: "The Tainted Ones", passageTag: "tainted_doc"}, {hideItem: $spiritsanddemons is false, name: "Spirits and Demons", passageTag: "spiritsanddemons_doc"} ] }, bestiary: { tabKey: "bestiary", tabName: "BESTIARY", tabLinks: [ {name: "Ahfuri", passageTag: "ahfuri"}, {hideItem: $part < 4, name: "Yakku Elk", passageTag: "yakku"}, {hideItem: $part < 4, name: "Ironhorn", passageTag: "ironhorncodex"}, {hideItem: $part < 4, name: "Hakka", passageTag: "hakka"}, {hideItem: $wyvern is false, name: "Wyvern", passageTag: "wyverncodex"}, {hideItem: $part < 6 or $bestiarycodex is false, name: "Drakes", passageTag: "drakes"}, {hideItem: $bestiarycodex is false, name: "Indrik", passageTag: "indrik"}, {hideItem: $bestiarycodex is false, name: "Cama", passageTag: "cama"}, {hideItem: $bestiarycodex is false, name: "Valek", passageTag: "valek"}, {hideItem: $bestiarycodex is false, name: "Sidhe", passageTag: "sidhe"}, {hideItem: $bestiarycodex is false, name: "Alke", passageTag: "alke"}, {hideItem: $part < 5, name: "Vargur", passageTag: "vargur"}, {hideItem: $part < 8, name: "Nemek", passageTag: "nemek"}, {hideItem: $amazotz is false, name: "Amazotz", passageTag: "amazotz"}, {hideItem: $part < 8, name: "Flame in the Night", passageTag: "flameinthenight"}, ] }, /* calendar: { tabKey: "calendar", tabName: "CALENDAR", tabType: "redirectToPassage", tabPassageLinkTag: "Calendar", tabLinks: [ ], }, */ /* story: { tabKey: "story", tabName: "STORY", tabLinks: [ {name: "sThe Canticle of Light", passageTag: "canticle_of_light"}, {name: "sThe Old Gods", passageTag: "old_gods"}, {name: "sThe Temple of Narthax", passageTag: "temple_of_narthax"} ] }, calendar: { /* example of tab that is a link to a passage tabKey: "calendar", tabName: "CALENDAR", tabType: "redirectToPassage", tabPassageLinkTag: "Calendar", tabLinks: [ ], }, calendar_with_nav: { tabKey: "calendar_with_nav", tabName: "CALENDARNAV", tabLinks: [ /* example of creating a journal_holder link that is a link to a passage NOTE has to have at least 2 or more entries, otherwise first link will automatically be fired currently {name: "sThe Temple of Narthax", passageTag: "temple_of_narthax"}, {linkType: "redirectToPassage", name: "Calendar", passageTag: "Calendar2"} ], } */ }>> <<journal_holder $navigationLinks "documents-holder">> <</nobr>>

<div class="flex-column col-1 text-center"> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/codex/vargur.png" class="" /></div> <i>A giant hyena-like mount with one of the greatest bite forces in the world. It is often ridden into war by the Balor as a fear tactic, due to its blood-curdling cries. </i>

<div class="flex-column col-1 text-center"> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/codex/ahfuri.png" class="" /></div> <i> A fast feline mount. While not marathon sprinters, they have useful hunting, fighting, and climbing capabilities, and are more versatile in different kinds of terrain than horses. However, they can be temperamental and are often banned in densely-populated cities.</i>

<div class="flex-column col-1 text-center"> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/codex/elk.png" class="" /></div> <i> The favored mount of the Hunters of the Reach. While docile towards humans, they are fearless and nimble in battle with Endarkened.</i>

<div class="flex-column col-1 text-center"> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/codex/hakka.png" class="" /></div> <i> A fat, blubbery creature often hunted in the North. It has the body of a walrus, the head of a tapir, and the short-haired, bristly hide of a wild boar. </i>

<div class="flex-column col-1 text-center"> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/codex/ironhorn.png" class="" /></div> <i> A huge, shaggy creature often seen on snowy steppes and vertical cliff-faces. Its set of diamond-hard horns will eventually grow to pierce its head without vicious fighting or human intervention, meaning they can sometimes develop mutually-beneficial relationships with Northern settlements, who will painlessly harvest their horns for them—and turn them into prized weapons or talismans.</i>

<div class="flex-column col-1 text-center"> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/codex/wyvern.png" class="" /></div> <i> The Tainted cousin of a Drake, the wyvern lacks wings and forearms, but possesses burning venom and a mythical "coldbreath" that turns its victims to stone.</i>

<div class="flex-column col-1 text-center"> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/codex/drake1.png" class="" /></div> <div class="flex-column col-1 text-center"> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/codex/drake2.png" class="" /></div> <i> Thought to be extinct, Drakes are commonly known as dragons, though they were sentient, speaking creatures who ruled mountainous kingdoms and had important distinctions between their own sub-types, clans, and allegiances. They were even capable of practicing their own kind of magic or <span class="entrylink">[[taika|Glossary]]</span>. When it came to protecting Blest from the Endarkened, legends claim that Light-aligned dragons—sometimes known as Daydrakes—occasionally developed deep bonds with human partners.</i>

<div class="flex-column col-1 text-center"> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/codex/indrik.png" class="" /></div> <i> One of the mythical races said to dwell in Thielwood, the secretive "tree-antlered deer" are considered guardians of the forest. Supposedly, their antlers bloom with flowers according to the seasons, and they are capable of encouraging natural growth back to life with their breath.</i>

<div class="flex-column col-1 text-center"> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/codex/cama.png" class="" /></div> <i> Sometimes referred to as unicorns, the Cama are creatures of purity who are said to possess strange fey powers. Rumors claim they can only be touched by virgins. Their horns, when attached to living Cama, are said to instantly dispel dark magic with a single touch.</i>

<div class="flex-column col-1 text-center"> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/codex/valek.png" class="" /></div> <i> The fearsome wardens of the forest, the Valek—or "Ghost Wolves"—are said to be able to turn invisible or intangible at will, melting into the trees like mist. They operate according to a ferocious, honor-based hierarchy and are huge enough to bite an intruder's head off with one snap of their jaws.</i>

<div class="flex-column col-1 text-center"> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/codex/sidhe.png" class="" /></div> <i> An intelligent, speaking relative of the ahfuri, the elusive winged Sidhe—or "Cloud Cats"—operate under a rigid monarchy within the depths of the forest, paying homage to a ruler known as the Thar. They are said to be cunning tacticians and even silver-tongued politicians. Their wings do not flap, so they can only glide.</i>

<div class="flex-column col-1 text-center"> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/codex/alke.png" class="" /></div> <i> More commonly referred to as gryphons or griffins, Alke were once illegally hunted for their feathers—which are said to have magical warding properties—and are fierce warriors. Something about their presence renders others to be unable to tell a lie in front of them, and they will savagely attack those attempting deception in their vicinity.</i>

<div class="flex-column col-1 text-center"> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/codex/nemek.png" class="" /></div> <i> These leathery-skinned, shark-like beasts are often used as mounts by the Balor. They are launched into a berserker frenzy by the scent of blood. </i>

<div class="flex-column col-1 text-center"> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/codex/amazotz.png" class="" /></div> <i> These reptiles are often used as mounts by the Balor and are capable of spitting a bacterial acid that blinds opponents and even breaks down the flesh of small creatures. They are extremely intelligent, cruel, and raptor-like, serving as deadly hunters and trackers. </i>

<div class="flex-column col-1 text-center"> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/codex/flameinthenight.png" class="" /></div> <i> A falcon of almost mythical rarity, the Flame in the Night bird smears the oils of phosphorous flowers as well as the blood of bioluminescent insects onto its sternum during mating season, leading it to glow strangely in the forest at night. It has frequently been mistaken for a phoenix. </i>

<i> You unroll the <span class="entrylink">[[schematic|Maps]]</span> that Shery gave you upon joining the Shepherds; you had trouble wrapping your head around the building's shifting architecture, so the quartermaster provided you with a map that helped you get around. However, she warned you never to take the blueprint out of the compound if you could help it—and if you do, the paper is enchanted to catch on fire if a non-Shepherd ever touches it. A few small notes scribbled on the back of the thin schematic explain the compound's history to you.</i> <div class="under-header-frame"></div> This compound was once the base of an enormous tower-complex built by Archmage Tangriel, one of the most powerful Mages to exist at the time. It was said that the tower stretched so high into the sky that one could stand at its pinnacle and touch the clouds. Before retiring from public life, Archmage Tangriel may have used the tower as both an academy for his own students as well as a secondary place of governance when he served the city of Haven—then called Magus—as one of its political leaders. After the Archmage's disappearance, the top half of the tower either crumbled into disrepair or was forcefully knocked down, leaving only its sprawling base and walled grounds intact. Regardless, due to the force and power of the Archmage's many wards and enchantments, the lower part of building stayed sealed and protected from looters, and no one was able to enter it without a dreadful curse befalling them. Many locals even insisted that the building was haunted, and that they could see pale figures watching them from the windows over the long years. This intimidating reputation is why so much of the compound has remained intact and virtually untouched since the Archmage first abandoned it. Commander Blade Bronwyn finally scouted the location and deemed it suitable for the Order from a security standpoint, and, with the permission of the Autarch, he led an expedition team into the tower and worked to untangle the spells surrounding it, bending those spells to accept the Shepherds as the tower's new residents. It look the team nine months to fully clear the building and deem it safe to move into, and the various traps and wards within nearly led to several deaths. Now, the building's various spells and protective wards still remain, but they are in total agreement and service to the Shepherds. Archmage Tangriel's remaining spirit servants and the magical structure itself do sometimes play tricks on unsuspecting officers, but this only leads to inconvenience and confusion, not true harm. It's handy to keep a map on you until you get to know the building—and vice-versa. Hopefully this blueprint will prove useful. - Shery Acquell

<i>Yo, Riel—I found this note lying on the ground in the library. Looks like all the major officers' callsigns… you think we've got a spy in our midst? - Trouble</i> <hr> <i>This looks like a recruit who wrote them down because they couldn't remember them all or keep them straight in their head. - From the Desk of Riel Syndran, Esquire </i> <hr> <i>Shit, seriously? Can you figure out who it is from the handwriting?</i> <hr> <i>This is a security concern. See me in my office. </i> <hr> <i>God help this fool, Blade is going to beat their ass.</i> <hr> <<c firstname>> <<c surname>>: <<c callsign>> Blade Bronwyn: Spectre Trouble Alder: Deadeye Tallys Ironwood: Thorn Shery Acquell: Keykeeper Chase Trinaeste: Magpie Riel Syndran: Architect Halek Prince: Reaper Liefred Antiqua: Voyager Ayla Aescar: Tempest <<nobr>> <<if $brionyjoin>> <br> Briony Stormbreaker: Starfall <</if>> <<if $lavinetjoin>> <br> Lavinet Naveen: Belladonna <</if>> <<if $cainejoin>> <br> Caine Tavadon: Pup <</if>> <</nobr>> (<i>The list continues down the page…</i>)

<center><i>Pages torn from “Notes on the Castigation,” written by historian Lampus Seguna during the Mirror Era</i></center> …It is unknown where the gods went after the end of the Dawn Wars. Perhaps the Elves, their closest and oldest children, were given the secret of their resting place. Perhaps not. The question bears no further worthwhile speculation; if anyone ever knew, there is little hope of recovering that knowledge now. What we do know is that, shortly after the Dawn Wars, the Children of Light began to fracture. During the conflict, the races had been united in their hatred of their common enemy, the Endarkened. But in the absence of both gods and demons, the former allies began to turn against each other. The Norms, particularly, were demeaned and ridiculed, given the sparsest scraps of land to settle on and none of the spoils of war. They had no Gift, no racial power to speak of, and it was believed that they bore the scorn of the gods. For many centuries, the elder races spat on them. To most Gifted, the Norms were a barbaric, artless people, footsoldiers and farmers, an afterthought or even a stain on the Continent. An accidental people, they were lords of nothing and made war mostly on themselves. They were the race all armies hacked their way through, languid and complaining, on their way to worthier foes. But, unbeknownst to their elder kin, it seems the Norms <i>were</i> given a Gift. Perhaps not a supernatural power such as the strength boasted by the Ket or the magic wielded by the Mages, but a special ability nonetheless. The Norms were clever. Exceedingly-clever. They were craftsmen and inventors, with a work ethic to match the natural talents of their elders. And they were better-adapted to change and innovation than the Gifted races, who relied (perhaps too heavily) on their in-born abilities to get by. While the Elves, Ket, Mages, and Hunters grew complacent in their dominion—secure in their superiority over the Norms—their progress slowed. They had no urgent necessity to develop better tools, newer weaponry. They had no desire to push the limits of their society, as they already had natural powers to eliminate hardship. In short, they had no <i>need</i> to drive them. So they believed. Meanwhile, the Norms developed technologies to compete with their elders and “betters”. They toiled in secret on inventions, tools, and weaponry that could elevate them to the level of their peers. They forged themselves into a mightier people, so that they could rival the other, older races. Then, at some point, they surpassed them. The Norms had been called savages, cursed ones, and dumb beasts little better than animals—and yet they had somehow created guns, and explosives, and trains and ships and farms. They built up the strength they had not been born with, instead <i>creating</i> it for themselves. And, when the time came, they rose up and struck their oppressors down. Thus began the Castigation, in Year 118 of the Wayward Era: the rising up of the Norms against the Gifted races, and the eventual dismantling of the Elven, Ket, Mage, and Hunter societies. With their superior weaponry, advanced technology, and prolific numbers, the Norm armies quickly overwhelmed the bulk of the Continent. The Gifted cities—and their citizens—were utterly decimated. And the war (we might hardly call it a war) became a punishment for centuries of mistreatment, disrespect, and cruelty. It was a rebuke; a reprimand. Then it became a slaughter. After fifteen years, the Gifted races were forced to surrender; to submit to those they had ridiculed for so long. They stepped down from power, relinquishing control to the victorious Norms. Fallen from their former glory, they became the Diminished. The Norms, meanwhile, established an Autarchy: a Norm-ruled government controlled by a Consortium as well as an Autarch—a kind of emperor who could exercise complete control of the Continent at will. In time, this government came to rule all corners of the land. The Norms also began to reject the idea of gods who had created them only to spurn them. The idea of the old pantheon and its gods supported the idea of the “Gifted” races’ superiority. Shedding this ideology, the Autarchy instead established a new religion: the Church of the One-God, the patron creator of the Norms and benefactor of their dominion over all. Today, the capital of the Autarchy has been established in the city of Haven, also the seat of the Autarch and his Sun Court. While the Norms there thrive and prosper with their newfound power, the Diminished (the remaining Ket, Mages, Hunters, and Elves) live in complete subjugation to the Norm populace and its government. Racism, xenophobia, and abuse are rampant. The future of the Children of Light looks bleak. Although the war has been declared over, it seems that the Castigation against those races has not ended, after all…

<center>STANDARD CONTRACT OF MERCENARY EMPLOYMENT</center> Sellsword: $firstname $surname Employer: Gareth Naveen This is a contractual agreement between all signed parties. A contractual party is taken to mean that group or individual, any being(s) alive or otherwise that the contractual party has dominion over, and any property they own; hereafter referred to in aggregate in this contract as each signed party, sellsword, or mercenary. 1.A - The mercenary swears to uphold their oaths of service and the terms of the agreement herein. The mercenary swears to protect their charge, LADY PRIHINE NAVEEN, to the utmost of their ability, until such a time that said charge is delivered safely to the care of her betrothed, MINISTER TURTI USHALA, in the city of HAVEN. 2.A - A signed party of this agreement who is harmed in their efforts to fulfill their contracted duties shall be accorded the following considerations: * Monetary compensation and rendered aid for injuries, if possible. * Last rites as dictated by their culture or traditions. * Distribution of the signed party's possessions to their next of kin, or place of interment, as is customary for their culture or faith. 3.A - A signed party is expected to refrain from any disruption of order, or violation of local law. In cases where such behavior would result in their own incarceration or damage the social standing of other signed parties... [<i>Continued on the next page</i>]

<i><center>“The Dawn Wars,” from the Canticle of Light, a major religious text of the Old Faith</center></i> In the beginning, the gods created the Children of Light. First came the Elves – long-lived, beautiful, full of grace. They carried in their Spirits all the vast wonders of the wild, its flowers and its beasts. They walked among gods and mortals alike, opening their ears to the hidden rhythms of the earth. Then came the Ket – a war-like people, weapons of the gods, the world's defenders, protectors, champions. Their arms shone with the strength of the heavens and their eyes burned bright with righteous virtue. They set their Hearts to loving justice, and honor, and skill, and might. Third came the Mages – kin to the Ket, a scholarly people gifted with a command of the world around them. Imbued with celestial power, they set their Minds to studying the arcane secrets of the world, the cosmos, and the gods who had created them. Fourth came the Hunters – crusaders born with hair like snow, to indicate the purity of their Souls. They were created to cleanse the earth, to hunt and kill the Children of Darkness—the offspring of the Nightwalker and the enemies of the righteous gods. Fifth came the Norms – the powerless race. They came bereft, these youngest children, with nothing from the gods but their strong Will to lead them the way through the dark... <span class="redacted">But the gods looked upon them and smiled...</span> <i>...the ink here is smudged...</i> <span class="redacted">Wake up, Brightburner. Remember who you are.</span> And so the gods created their children, and for a time the world was at peace. Only Tapyt Nightwalker, lord of shadow and chaos, was forbidden from crafting offspring in his name and shape. His brother, Narthax—the lord of light and justice—deemed the gods’ creation too perfect for any children of Tapyt. The world had no need for creatures made in his likeness. Enraged, Tapyt worked in secret to give shape to his own sons and daughters: demonkind, the Endarkened, craven monsters fashioned to hate and destroy the Children of Light. He unleashed them upon the new world in spite… and thus began the Dawn Wars. The Children of Light met their enemy in battle for the first time. They came to know evil, and fear, and death, and war. Then, after a long and bloody conflict, the gods stormed the Fortress of Night and threw Tapyt Nightwalker down. Their Blessed Children, united under the Sun, drove back the hordes of darkness. The Dawn Wars were won. And the light of Narthax shone again. The Endarkened and their cursed Father were exiled by the gods to the dark realm, a shadow of this world. The gods sealed up this abyssal void and called it Hael. Then, tired from their long fight, they slept. …

<i><center>Concerning Demons and Their Classes</center></i><center><i>By Magister Hatori Prince</i></center> Generally, demons and demonic creatures are classified in six different ranks. From weakest to strongest, the classes are: <b>Thralls</b> Thralls are mortals who are possessed by demons too weak to manifest in Blest on their own. They are a demon's vessel, host, or "anchor" on our plane, and so they possess only the power and strength of a regular person—controlled, of course, by the malingering demon. Enthralling demons usually attach themselves to the minds of the weak and unwary, and are able to conceal themselves with great cunning. They often possess the dangerous ability to switch hosts, as well. Fortunately, an unwilling Thrall will often attempt to fight off the demonic control of his possessor, greatly hampering the encroaching demon's efforts and making the Endarkened's presence more obvious. If a Thrall was involuntarily possessed, a Hunter or skilled Mage can usually extract the demon safely. If a Thrall became a Thrall through a willing ritual or bargain, however, he cannot be separated from his demonic parasite and will die along with it once defeated. <div class="under-header-frame"></div> <b>Tainted</b> Tainted creatures are beings who are "tainted" with Endarkened blood—often because they are the offspring of unholy unions between demons and Children of the Light. These include the vampiric creatures known as Fext, Shades, Balor, Ghasts, and Lugra. The ways to fight these monsters are myriad, but they are usually easily defeated if not encountered in great numbers. Notably, the presence of a Tainted can not always be detected in the same way that the presence of a true Endarkened can, which might be a reason why they were created in the first place. <div class="under-header-frame"></div> <b>Imps</b> The weakest kind of true Endarkened, Imps are regarded as a slave class in Hael. On our plane, they are usually child-sized or smaller and appear as gangly creatures with venomous claws, blue-black skin, beetle-like eyes, and many rows of teeth. Imps are quite cowardly and weak-minded, but can be extremely dangerous when gathered in swarms. <div class="under-header-frame"></div> <b>Revenants</b> Revenants are huge, hulking beasts twice the size of the average man. They possess monstrous strength, pale opalescent skin, and jaws as powerful as a dragon's. They are particularly malevolent and are strong enough to tear up trees by their roots. They are considered the soldier class in Hael. <div class="under-header-frame"></div> <b>Cacophants</b> Cunning and sly, Cacophants can assume the form of normal Children of Light without the need to possess a mortal vessel. They are able to blend in among normal crowds of people and are extremely magically-powerful, possessing the ability to read an individual's desires and corrupt them until they turn into a Thrall—or worse. Their demonic auras are so noxious that they can bring blight, plague, and outbreaks of madness to the mortal realm, actively feeding off of and thriving on the chaos they cause. Periods of unrest and historical regression are often blamed on uncaught Cacophants. They are considered the noble or aristocratic class in Hael, ruling their hellish domains by torturing or enslaving their victims and drawing power from their suffering. <div class="under-header-frame"></div> <b>Archdemon</b> The Archdemon is the ruler of Hael and the vessel of Tapyt. They can control all other Endarkened through a hive-mind, possessing the remnants of Tapyt's godly powers. The Archdemon, like all Endarkened, thrives on chaos, corruption, and violence, particularly when it's caused in Blest. Thus, most of their energy is devoted to sending lesser demons to Blest to wreak destruction there, allowing the Archdemon to become stronger with each success. An Archdemon has never been able to set foot in our world, and instead acts through powerful agents and proxies to weaken the walls between worlds. We must never reach the point where an Archdemon becomes powerful enough to break through those walls and escape Hael; if that day should come, it might mean the end of our world as we know it.

<center><i>Excerpt from <i><b>The Elvish Phrasebook: Basic</b></i></i></center> If you are traveling through Elvish lands, you would do well to recall that most Elves employ the use of <b>honorific suffixes</b> in both their informal and formal modes of speech (see Pages 12-15). Here's a quick list of the most common suffixes that might be affixed to a person's name! <ul> * -el: used for royalty or nobility, such as King Tharionel or Lady Elanorel. When written, this is the only suffix that is not affixed with an apostrophe or other distinguishing mark. * -ir: used for elders or wise ones who are particularly respected. * -iran: used for people who are older than the speaker. This is a more standard version of "-ir" and is appropriate to use in almost any context with strangers (if you are a non-Elf). * -an: used for friends or equals in the same age group. * -il: used for children or young ones, such as Nessa’il or Tari’il. * -ar: used for honored warriors and heroes, or people who have been recognized as having accomplished great deeds. A visiting, venerated scholar or a decorated knight might be referred to with this. * -en or -elan: used for lovers or spouses. This has a romantic connotation only. * -as: can be used for professional colleagues, rivals, or even enemies in certain contexts. Please note that this is a distancing, formal suffix, and is generally only used to stress that the two parties are not (and likely never will be) friends. * -ath: used for siblings, cousins, same-aged relatives, or close childhood friends. </ul>

<i><center>The Faceless Lords</center></i><center><i>By Magister Matoglin Arrar</i></center> We know very little about the so-called Sovereign Cacophants, the Infernal Princes, the Defilers. Through experimentation and binding rituals we have been able to imprison and question Imps and minor demons about them, but their thoughts are scattered and petty, filled with complaints and lies. Perhaps these "princes" are simply very powerful Cacophants who have slaughtered and manipulated their way to dominion over their own kind, deeming themselves "lords." Perhaps they really are offspring of the Archdemon, as some Imps claim—though how soulless flesh may beget children, it is unclear. Others say that the Lords served as the generals of Tapyt's demon horde during the Dawn Wars, aiding the Nightwalker in the battle against the very gods themselves. Who can say what is the truth? It is in an Endarkened's nature to lie. In any case, it seems clear that these beings are both greatly feared and extremely dangerous, even among their own kind. We have managed to extract the names of the Faceless Lords, but we know almost nothing else about them. We know that they are five, and we know that they are Hael incarnate. Beyond that, woe to any who might encounter them on this mortal plane. … <i>…the ink here is faded with time…</i> <div class="under-header-frame"></div> <<nobr>> <<if $part gt 1>> <i>Blaphemel, The Seducer</i> - Prince of madness, unlawful ambition, amorality, deceit, conspiracy, treason, and betrayal. Tempts victims into bargains with promises of success, power, glory, riches, or knowledge, eventually driving them utterly mad. <br><br> <div class="under-header-frame"></div> <</if>> <<if $part gt 2>> <br> <i>Clochus, The Devourer</i> - Demon of vice, desire, gluttony, sloth, greed, hedonism, debauchery, and the indulgences of one's darker nature. Corrupts victims into leading sinful lifestyles that will lead to their eventual destruction or willful enthrallment. <br><br> <div class="under-header-frame"></div> <</if>> <<if $part gt 3>> <br> <i>Quiial, The Dream-Eater</i> - Consumer of mortal fears, desires, thoughts, feelings, and memories. Traps victims in the unending hell of their own minds and twists their deepest refuges into labyrinths of pain and illusion. <br><br> <div class="under-header-frame"></div> <</if>> <<if $part gt 4>> <br> <i>Buubas, The Plague-Bringer</i> - The Infested One, lord of fevers, disease, sickness, decay, pestilence, and blight. Prefers the slow weakening and suffering of plague victims, prolonging their pain for as long as possible. <br><br> <div class="under-header-frame"></div> <</if>> <<if $part gt 5>> <br> <i>Jarkyth, The Blood-Drinker</i> - Patron of violence, destruction, upheaval, bloodthirst, and wrath. Grows powerful from needless destruction, blood sacrifices, and wanton death, particularly that of innocents. <br><br> <div class="under-header-frame"></div> <</if>> <</nobr>>

<div class="flex-column col-1 text-center"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/codex/ladytatler1.png" class="" /></div><div class="flex-column col-1 text-center"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/codex/ladytatler.png" class="" /></div>A "Miss Saintly" has brought it to my attention that the existence of this pamphlet—known to most of you as Haven's sharpest "scandal sheet" or "gossip rag"—has proved to be nothing more than a burden to those whose slippered feet walk the gentle steps of Whitestone. "A lady cannot be free and gamesome," she said to a reserved and silent young gent, who I may call "Sir Caution-unto-Yawning," while sitting with him in Haven's most fashionable high tea establishment. Little did they know, of course, that I, the very auteur of said gossip sheet, was nearby, waiting to broadcast their words to the public the very next day. "A lady must have her liberties," Miss Saintly declared, concerning herself with the cadre of young ladies being terrorized by this sheet; "she must be able to drink a glass of ratafia, play a game of pall-mall, send her jewels out when the cards run ill, take her gloves off when it is hot, and stroll with a gentle friend of any sex along the avenues without fear that Lady Tatler will expose her supposed scandal." The irony, of course, is that Miss Saintly has never so much as touched a drop of liquor in her life; that she turns her nose up at the thought of playing pall-mall on the green; that she considers gambling a cardinal sin; that she wears sleeves to her fingers even in the blazing summer; and that she has few friends to stroll the avenues with, except for the serious gent who paid not a wit to her words regarding Lady Tatler, concentrating instead on swirling his gin around in his glass as if it could offer him the future in tea leaves. And had this Lady Tatler been free to oppose Miss Saintly's tirade, to stridently and ardently rebuke her sanctimonious hypocrisy, she would have declared that much higher persons than Saintly had announced this sheet as "gospel." Last month, Lady Loveletters cried that this sheet was the only paper that got her up in the mornings (which says very much about the state of her current letter-partners and suitors, and was perhaps the point); Lord Carefree declared that it was the revolution that was needed to stir the aristocracy from their gilded seats, and set the streets afire with camaraderie and buzz. Even the Autarch, One-God protect her always, called this work "a very amusing diversion, indeed." Regardless, we must pay heed to the Miss Saintlys of the world from time to time. And to prove that I am capable of more than simply accusations and exposures, I will endeavor to make this issue one of helpfulness. Every fan has two sides, and so too does Mrs. Tatler. We all know that the social season—called by some the bargaining season—draws very near. Scores of hopeful debutantes and young suitors await, with anticipation, their official introductions into high society. Hawkish eyes will soon appraise their every steps, and, like winged scavengers, rivals from the marriage market and prospective in-laws hunger to flense meat from bone. Everything from a young aristocrat's manners to their fashion to their foot size will be picked apart, scrutinized, and laid out to market. I cannot help manners or foot size, but I can report to these debutantes the fashion do's and do-not's of this coming season. It will do any angry coaches and incensed modistes reading this well to know that I do not invent trends: I simply report them. And so these findings come from the very highest fashion authorities in the land, including a Courtshore designer who shall remain nameless (and yet, I'm sure, still known). The theme of this season shall be <i>sleekness</i>. Gone are the ruffles and flounces of yesteryear; young persons seeking to wear the voluminous ballgowns and ruffled shirts of last season shall be sorely disappointed in the reactions of others, and shall themselves be relegated to the dark corners of Irrelevance. Do not wear that "princess" gown with enough fabric to drown a sailor: you will risk looking like a human-sized powder-puff, an enormous swaddled babe, or worse—as if you are concealing your figure, as those with child do. Instead, sleek lines and sophisticated colors that shows off one's sharp-cut form are to be favored this season. Gowns that hug the frame and trim suits tapered to the waist and shoulders shall be among the most attractive fashions this year. For robes and vestments, <i>shimmer</i> shall be the name of the game, as if one were clothed in dragonfly wings; wispy fabrics, too, that give one the appearance of being wreathed in mist, are much desired, rather than the enveloping and suffocating ruffles that once plagued the ballroom dance floor. For suits, a splash of color at the breast or along the trim and hem shall be very eye-catching to the bachelors and bachelorettes of the town. The court must look the very picture of refinement: we do not condone those lurid colors and immature cuts of years past. Finally, <i>florals</i> are back in style following the appearance of Lady Innovation's incredible wedding gown, pinned through with real and living peonies. The town has been feverish for real and paper crepe flowers, and one source—a disgruntled milliner—complains that the dressmakers and florists of Haven have been soring their fingers all summer to meet the demand. <i>Seasonal</i> outfits, too—meaning outfits themed after the four seasons—have been all the rage, according to one distant cousin of the Autarch's, who claims to have brought the fashion back from the Sesz Isles, where the residents do not experience the beauties of autumn or winter. Shrewd young aristocrats would do well in designing their own embodiments of the seasons—without treading upon territory already claimed by their peers. It is one thing to have one "flower" at a ball, or one summery bloom; it would be a disaster to have a garden bed of dozens all alike. For the more visual readers among us, our anonymous designer has provided a folio of examples on [[Page 5|https://www.pinterest.com/loldemort7/fashions-of-blest/]].

<center><i>Excerpt from <i><b>The Book of Flowers</b></i>, a cultural almanac delineating the symbolism and floriography of various traditions</i></center><div class="flex-column col-1 text-center"> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/codex/floriography.png" class="" width="200px" height="250px" /> </div> Candle Day is a pagan holiday during which participants weave charms or talismans out of wood and flowers for their friends, family, neighbors, and loved ones. These charms are often thought to be protective in nature, imbueing the recipient with anything from good luck to enhanced fertility, and can be hung over the hearth, strung around the wrist or neck, or tied to a traveler's pack as a small token to remind them of home. Below are just some of the most common meanings assigned to the individual elements of a talisman, though meanings can differ widely across regions and cultures, as well as shift when paired in combination with certain other elements. Oak, for example, symbolizes strength on its own, while asphodel symbolizes heartbreak or loss; however, when paired together, the message can instead convey an unsubtle threat towards the recipient. If in doubt, consult a nearby elder versed in folklore or a local florist. <div class="under-header-frame"></div> <center><b>WOOD</b></center> <div class="under-header-frame"></div> <span class="journallist"><ul><li>Hawthorne - Protection and security.</li> <li>Oak - Long life and strength.</li> <li>Holly - Good luck and prosperity.</li> <li>Dogwood - Stability and peace.</li> <li>Birch - Honesty and truth. Sometimes given to those perceived to be surrounded by politics or liars.</li> <li>Walnut - Clarity, focus, and wisdom. </li> <li>Pine - Peace and restfulness. Given to those who work notably hard or have faced a tumultous year.</li> <li>Maple - Selflessness and giving, or a wish for much gift-giving or bounty in the future. Signals a desire to become closer friends as well as well wishes.</li> <li>Juniper - Purity, loyalty, or faithfulness; a declaration to stand by one's side in the face of coming hardship.</li> <li>Ash - Ambition and professional or academic success.</li> <li>Olive - Insight, inspiration, and creativity. Often given to artists and creatives.</li> <li>Willow - Protection from sorrow or grief.</li> <li>Spruce - Healing, especially spiritual or mental.</li> <li>Purpleheart - Healing, especially from physical illness or injury. </li> <li>Rosewood - Compassion, femininity, or a declaration of perfect beauty. </li> <li>Eucalyptus - Fresh perspectives or a change of pace or scenery; traveling. Often given to graduates or people contemplating large life changes, such as changing careers or faraway voyages.</li> <li>Mahogany - Vigorous growth, improvement, or change.</li> <li>Yew - Flexibility and adaptability; or, a warning to be cautious.</li> <li>Fir - Light or illumination. Sometimes comfort and companionship, especially related to home or family. Often given to travelers to guide their safe passage home.</li> <li>Elm - Strength and protection, especially religious or spiritual, especially against demons. </li> <li>Beech - Foresight and vigilance. </li> <li>Ironwood - Unyielding strength and endurance. </li> <li>Rowan - Wisdom and knowledge; sometimes immortality or mysticism. A crown made of rowan wood is historically for royalty and a sign of the highest possible esteem, almost a declaration of worship.</li> <li>Poplar - Frailty or humility. A protection from hubris or arrogance. Often seen as a back-handed warning, given to those who have had a run of good fortune or recent success. </li> <li>Hornbeam - Luck in fertility or raising children. Usually given to parents or expecting parents.</li> <li>Peach - Luck in romantic affairs or relationships.</li> <li>Cherry - Protection from heartbreak or betrayal.</li> <li>Pear - Protection from bad luck, particularly in business investments or gambling. </li> <li>Apple - Friendship, platonic love, and kindness. </li> <li>Plum - Dreams and uniqueness; or, strange encounters. Signals a hope that the recipient's coming year will be interesting and full of excitement.</li></ul></span><div class="under-header-frame"></div> <center><b>FLORA</b></center> <div class="under-header-frame"></div> <span class="journallist"><ul> * Valerian - Health or fertility. * Chrysanthemum - Long life and longevity. * Gardenia - Joy, happiness, or secret admiration. * Larkspur - Laughter, humor, or good times. * Peony - Wealth and success (usually professional or financial). * Snapdragon - Protection against danger. * Rose - Romance or luck in romantic affairs. * Alstroemeria - Good luck and fortune. * Asphodel - Regret or heartbreak; loss. * Bluebell - Humility or constancy. * Foxglove - Riddles or secrets. * Ivy - Attachment or special preference. * Snapdragon - Presumption. * Sunflower - Consolation, comfort, or good cheer. * Chamomile - Triumph in adversity; the defeat of stress. * Hawthorn - Hope, or: "Our love will triumph." * Hellebore - Honesty, or: "We shall overcome lies or scandal." * Edelweiss - Courage, daring, or devotion. * Iris - Valor or faith. * Laurel - Glory or victory. * Mistletoe - "I hope we grow closer." * Pansy - "You occupy my thoughts." * Clematis - Ingenuity or cleverness. * Rue - Bashfulness or embarrassment. * Rosemary - Remembrance or respect for the past; nostalgia. Often given to childhood friends, siblings, or close cousins. * Yarrow - A cure or consolation for physical ailments. * Dandelion - A cure for heartbreak or heartache. * Buttercup - "You charm me." * Apple Blossom - Favoritism or special preference, usually implied to be romantic. * Aster - "I wish to protect you" (implying frailty). * Azalea - "You perplex me" or "I find you enigmatic." * Zinnia - Lasting friendship. * Lily - Purity or a return to happiness. * Monkshood - Chivalry or gallantry. * Orchid - Passionate love, almost to the point of obsession. * Honeysuckle - Affection or gratitude; sometimes repaying a favor. * Cypress - Silence, or an oath to keep one's secrets. * Hemlock - Mourning, loss, or death. * Belladonna - A warning. * Forget-me-not - Remembrance, eternal devotion. Often given to people who are moving away or departing for long journeys. * Poppy - Forsaken love. * Wormwood - Bitterness. * Datura - Deceitful charms or beauty; lies. * Tansy - Distrust. * Daffodil - "Please forgive me." * Daisy - Youth and innocence. * Camellia - Longing or pining. * Nettle - Hostility. * Lady Slipper - Capriciousness or fickleness. * Orchid - Boastfulness or show-stopping qualities; often given to performers for good luck. * Carnation - New beginnings. * Baby's breath - Maternal love or health for families and babies. Usually given to parents, especially mothers. * Cornflower - Hope in new love. * Heather - Congratulations, especially for academic successes or graduates. * Myrtle - Apology or forgiveness. </ul></span>

A sample menu of the daily meals served to officers at the Shepherds' on-base refectory. Officers are, of course, welcome to dine out so long as they report for duty promptly and in a prepared manner. Off-base privileges may be revoked if not used responsibly. <div class="under-header-frame"></div> <center><i><b>Breakfast</b></i></center> <div class="under-header-frame"></div> Fresh Frontier Biscuits and Gravy Almond and Apricot Jam Griddle Cakes Eggs Bacon Apple Chicken Sausage Grilled Rosemary Bread Assorted Fruit Juices <div class="under-header-frame"></div> <center><i><b>Lunch</b></i></center> <div class="under-header-frame"></div> Elvish Candle Bread Ket Miheri Soup Sautéed Wild Mushrooms Lemon Baked Fish Wild Rice Fresh Fruit Assorted Vytas and Lemonade Bar <div class="under-header-frame"></div> <center><i><b>Dinner</b></i></center> <div class="under-header-frame"></div> Skillet Steak Potatoes with Garlic Butter Dragon Tongue Curry Korgoth Steamed Pork Dumplings in Hot Chili Oil Root Vegetable Gratin Hot Dinner Rolls Milk and Honey Cake

<<nobr>><<if $bestiarycodex is false>><<notify_codex_bestiary "Woken Beasts">><</if>><<set $bestiarycodex to true>><</nobr>><i><center>The Forgotten Peoples of Blest, Part I</center></i><center><i>Mattie Tinwright</i></center> …It may shock you to learn that there are more people of Light beyond the main five (the Elves, the Hunters, the Ket, the Mages, and the Norms). These last few have dominated our recent history, to be sure, but we cannot forget that our world is populated by many types of beings, big or small—though many have disappeared or gone extinct since the Castigation, rendering knowledge of them the stuff of fairytales. Among these peoples are: <div class="under-header-frame"></div> <b>The Changelings</b>. It is unclear whether the Changelings are an offshoot of Mages or their own people entirely: they are not spoken about in the Canticle of Light, our earliest written texts. The Changelings possess the ability to change their own shape at will, and indeed, it is said their infants do not choose a 'true' form until they reach around one year of age. They are a reclusive people who have retreated to the fens and swamps lying at the foot of the Reach, living in their own exclusive communities. Long ago they grew tired of the demand on them to be tricksters and spies, and withdrew from the outside world. <div class="under-header-frame"></div> <b>The Asteriae</b>. Although the Asteriae played an enormous role in the Dawn Wars, the first conflict against the Endarkened, they have since vanished from this earth. They were a fey winged people, tall and fair, with an ethereal air about them and eyes that shone like the stars. It is said they lived among the clouds and constructed floating cities, and that these cities drifted away from this Continent after they were no longer needed in the war. Some theories posit that they left when their air was poisoned by the eruption of a nearby volcano, long before we understood the nature of such things. Others claim that they now sleep with the gods at the Eye of the World. It is whispered that some day the Asteriae may return, perhaps when the land is less troubled and bloodied. Where they are now, no one knows. <div class="under-header-frame"></div> <b>The Drakes</b>. Once upon a time, the Daydrakes—dragons who allied with the Children of the Light—deigned to carry their comrades all over the world, partnering with Mage, Ket, and Elven warriors to form fearsome fighting teams. They were ferocious but honorable; obsessed with ideas of respect and courtesy; easily-irritated and fickle; yet fiercely loyal to their friends and noble of spirit and heart. Alas, it is theorized that the Drakes were connected to the thrum of <i>taika</i> or godly aesthersong in the world, and as this waned, so too did their people. By the time of the Castigation, the great dragons of yore were almost extinct, and they have not been seen in the two hundred years since. Note: The word "dragon" is acceptable to be used in reference to a Daydrake in the third-person, but never to one's face. <div class="under-header-frame"></div> <b>The Elementals</b>. The Elementals were divided into several groups, each with their own societies, cultures, and alliances. They waged war alongside the Children of the Light against the demons, but, with time, grew apart from the other races after the disappearance of the gods. The Elementals included: <b><i>The Undine</i></b> - the people of water, capricious and playful, who would help push moored ships or offer sailors fresh water in times of crisis. There are said to be two tribes of Undine, each with vastly different cultures and appearances: the Ocean Undine, who dwelled along the coasts of the Banteen Sea, were friendly and benevolent towards sailors, typically appearing as people with fish tails, gills, webbed hands, and aquatic scales and spines. They were sometimes referred to by the local seafarers as merfolk. The River Undine, by contrast, were much more secretive and elusive. They were said to appear as misty or liquid beings made of water rather than of flesh, able to melt into rivers entirely and disappear. <i><b>The Flamelings</b></i> - the people of fire, passionate and savage, who lingered near active volcanoes and blazing deserts. They were said to be both stubborn and loyal, coming to the aid of their allies in battle when called. They were very hard to kill, able to control fire, and if their own flames were extinguished, they would hibernate until someone could light them again. Some were said to be made of molten lava, while others seemed to be composed of pure flame; there were even rumors of evolved Flamelings called the Volta, who were made of lightning and electricity itself, and who only appeared during intense storms. <b><i>The Sylphs</i></b> - the people of air, nomadic and aloof. They were nearly invisible and could be anywhere, choosing to bear secrets and witnessed news to those they favored. It is said a gathering of them caused mirages, and that dust devils and storms that whipped up from nowhere were caused by their pranks. The Sylphs were also said to have lesser cousins, called the Sprites or Wind-Sprites. These were smaller and more plentiful air Elementals than their larger cousins, often appearing as only balls of air, and they exceedingly mischievous and playful to boot. <b><i>The Hill Folk</i></b> - the people of the earth, steady and quiet. The Hill Folk often protected sacred forests and fields, and would appear seemingly out of nowhere to attack those who were desecrating the land. They could look like mossy boulders or walking trees, and are said to have been ruled by two sovereigns: the Holly King and the Oak King, who formed sacred covenants with locals living near their lands. When angered, the Hill Folk could perform a ritual called 'raising the land'—though what this means has been lost to time. <div class="under-header-frame"></div> <b>The Woken Wild, or the Thimbenites</b>. The Woken Wild are a group of gigantic animals that are able to speak and think in human terms: it is said they were 'woken' by the god Thimben, the Wildheart, to aid the Children of Light against the Endarkened in the Dawn Wars. They are rumored to live in a secret place in Thielwood, the oldest forest in the land, though access to this place has been cut off since the Castigation. Only the Elves knew how to reach the Woken, and to this day refuse to give up the secret, allowing knowledge of the animals to fade into myth and fantasy. Among the Woken are the Valek, or Ghost Wolves—pale wolves larger than horses, courageous and strong; the Sidhe, or Cloud Leopards—huge and cunning winged cats who are said to have birthed the ahfuri; the Cama, or Pale-Horned Horses—pure-coated steeds said to have borne the gods into battle themselves, who will allow no mortal to touch them now; the Gryphons, giant winged leonine creatures who repel deception; and the Indrik, the Tree-Antlered Deer: guardians and protectors of the forest. It is unknown if the Woken live together in a single society, or apart in enclaves, and whether or not they hunt each other. [<i>For more, including information about the Faerie folk and the Twyleth, continue to Part II. For Peoples of the Isles, proceed to Part VI.</i>]

PAGE 42 <b><center>DISTRICTS IN HAVEN</center></b> Haven, once known as Magus, was built over one thousand years ago by great Mages during the Blooming Era. It is stacked in five easily-identifiable tiers, ensuring that even the most hapless traveler will never be confused about which part of the city they're in. We have taken the liberty of summarizing the details of each tier below, ranging from the Sun Court at the very top of the city to Haven's charming Oldtown, down at the very bottom. <div class="under-header-frame"></div> <b>The Sun Court</b> <i>Also referred to as: The Consortium, Hightown, Haventop, Haven's Peak</i> Sitting at the top of Haven, the Sun Court houses the grand estates of our miraculous Autarch, the Golden One. Although these estates are not open to the public, other parts of the Sun Court are: petitioners and foreign visitors are welcome to visit the houses of the Consortium, where matters of governance, diplomacy, and administration take place; the Treasury, where great works of art and history are on display; the Autarch's world-class menagerie and public gardens; and the Garrison, where the city's esteemed Vice Guard is quartered. On some days there are public executions of criminals here, as well. See <b>SUN COURT</b> (page 53) for more details. <div class="under-header-frame"></div> <b>Whitestone</b> Whitestone is a residential district housing Haven's oldest and wealthiest noble families. Stroll along the gorgeous cobblestone lanes, lined with the finest horticultural sculptures on the Continent, and visit Whitestone's luxurious boutiques, restaurants, and shops. <i>The Rose and Crown</i> is a particularly fine establishment that has served as a place of respite for many celebrities and important visitors to Haven for years, and the tailors, seamstresses, and modistes on the same street are among the finest on the Continent. Many of Haven's most exclusive social clubs, private theaters, dining rooms, and dance halls reside in Whitestone, though beware: without the proper connection, pedigree, or coin, tourists will face a difficult time gaining entry! See <b>WHITESTONE</b> (page 58) for more details. <div class="under-header-frame"></div> <b>Market Quarter</b> <i>Also referred to as: Shoptown, Merchant District</i> The Market Quarter is Haven's most popular tourist destination and serves as a gathering place for most of the city's merchants, shopkeepers, and traders. It offers an array of sightseeing opportunities as well as places to shop: it is often said that if one is seeking anything, no matter how exotic or obscure, the first place one should try is Haven's Market. Don't miss out on the Theater District, housing many of the city's finest opera houses, concert halls, and amphitheaters; the Golden Way, a dense and dizzying locale reserved for streetside gambling and games of chance, leading to a larger avenue of popular casinos and high-end game halls; Paper Alley, a narrow street lined with booksellers, print shops, artists, and quill-makers; and the Floating District, the neighborhood for pleasure houses, brothels, and exotic inns. Thule Arena, the sports coliseum just past the Golden Way, is another popular tourist attraction, hosting several knightly tournaments and sporting events throughout the year. If you're lucky, you might also visit during one of Haven's many festivals (see <b>FESTIVALS</b>, page 18), when the Market District is transformed into a district of confectionary wonders. Be sure to sample the diverse culinary options here: you can find all manner of cuisines from across the Continent, from the spicy dishes of northern Karzai to the rich imported seafood of the Sesz Isles. You might even find "the food of the dead" from distant Jalis here—buyer beware! See <b>MARKET DISTRICT</b> (page 63) for more details. <div class="under-header-frame"></div> <b>Smoketown</b> Smoketown is Haven's business district, housing most of the city's factories, warehouses, railyards, and other places of manufacture. Although not a place often visited by tourists, taverns such as the <i>Clover and Flame</i> are acceptable places to mingle with the locals. The area known as "the docks" hosts daily night-markets, food stalls for laborers burning the midnight oil, and street-fighting tournaments aplenty, and there are a few hidden gems in the guise of humble local restaurants, surprise parks, historical squares, and scattered statues and monuments. See <b>SMOKETOWN</b> (page 72) for more details. <div class="under-header-frame"></div> <b>Oldtown</b> <i>Also referred to as: Ashtown, Witchtown, Diminished District</i> Haven's Oldtown is littered with interesting ruins and remnants from its time as a Mage-ruled city. The majority of the city's Diminished live in this part of Haven, meaning tourists seeking a diversity of culture, food, and language may find something of merit here. Notable sights are the Great Tree in the Elven Quarter and the Memorial of the Crowned Horns of the Moon, a statue dedicated to those killed in the Hunter Uprisings. See <b>OLDTOWN</b> (page 75) for more details. <div class="under-header-frame"></div> <b>The Sun's Embrace</b> The Sun's Embrace is the lush forested farmland surrounding Haven's plateau. Consisting of many scattered villages, farm towns, and trading outposts, most less than a day's ride from each other, the Sun's Embrace is a vast valley that marries natural beauty with agricultural industry. Tourists who enjoy hiking, hunting, or camping can hire wilderness guides to lead them on expeditions to hidden waterfalls, lakes, or even historical sites located throughout the valley, while others more interested in agricultural tourism can embark on beer and wine-tasting, cheese-sampling, or wild herb and mushroom foraging tours throughout the farmlands. Horses can be leased and riverboat tours can also be hired from a plethora of vendors. See <b>THE SUN'S EMBRACE</b> (page 75) for more details.

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<<if $part < 2>>You have not experienced your first holiday yet.<<else>><i>There are many holidays celebrated throughout the whole of Blest, by all kinds of unique communities and cultures. For you, dear traveler, we have outlined just a few of the most popular holidays for typical residents of the Continent! </i> <div class="under-header-frame"></div> <b>Candle Day <i>(Early Fall, Early Spring)</i></b>: The history of Candle Day has been extremely varied throughout the centuries. Originally celebrated twice a year, this holiday was first known as "the Festival of the Golden Bough" to practitioners of the Old Faith. The festival's roots were based on an ancient pagan myth in which a goddess (typically the sun goddess, Althea) challenged a mortal champion (often thought to be her lover) to prove his worth to her by finding a mystical luminous tree that bore golden branches, leaves of silver, and iridescent flowers. This Golden Bough was variously said to be able to vanquish death, make the user immortal, or provide the key to the afterlife. If the champion could find the tree and fashion a crown out of one of its branches, he would ascend to godhood and take his place at the goddess's side. According to most legends, the mortal spent over one thousand days and nights tirelessly searching for the mythical tree, which could grow anywhere in the world. In different versions of the myth, he either succeeded and became a minor god of the Summit, ironically became the lord of the dead, or was pricked by the bough's poisonous thorns and sent unjustly to the underworld, where he had to be rescued by his mistress. The Festival of the Golden Bough capitalized on this famous tale and involved celebrants orchestrating great games and sports for young children; traveling performers, bards, and acting troupes staging extravagant shows; and large feasts and drinking contests being held throughout the night. Most importantly, the participants of the festival would be dispatched throughout the day into the surrounding forests, fields, or other terrain in a playful effort to discover the Golden Bough, which was said to have seedlings that could sprout anywhere, even in the most innocuous glens and copses. Sometimes town leaders would hide woven wooden crowns of their own making somewhere in the surrounding area, and whoever managed to find these items first would be crowned as the victors of the day and carried aloft on the people's shoulders. In the fall, these imaginative adventures also served another purpose: it was said that the Winterfather, Nante, despised laughter, and so the boisterous festivities were also meant to drive away the harshness of incoming winter. After the Castigation, this festive celebration then morphed into Candle Day, a religious holiday spent in solemn prayer. Celebrants were to take a vow of silence for the day and spend several hours in contemplation of the One-God's grace, burning candles and offerings to Xer. All mentions of the Golden Bough were erased from popular culture, and the tradition of hunting for painted crowns or magical trees faded into obscurity. However, more recently, Candle Days have swung back to more raucous celebrations with the permission of Blest's latest Autarch. Some of the pagan traditions have been resurrected, and while woven crowns are no longer hunted for, variants constructed out of wood, foliage, and flora are now given to friends, family, loved ones, and treasured relations, usually as a symbol of protection or good luck. Like the Golden Bough, these offerings—called talismans or charms—are thought to be able to protect the wearer from ill health or even early death. Each talisman has a different meaning according to the material and design that it is woven with. Typical activities on Candle Days also involve drinking and dancing in the streets, playing carnival games, eating festival foods, and spending time with loved ones, especially during popular tavern crawls. <i>(For a list of talisman symbols and meanings, turn to the section concerning floriography on Page 64.)</i> <div class="under-header-frame"></div> <b>All Heroes Eve <i>(Mid-Fall to Late Fall)</i></b>: According to traditional Blest beliefs, the time of the equinox—when day is exactly equal to night—is a very momentous, spiritually-significant occasion. Some believe that this is the time when the walls between worlds wear thin, allowing all manner of apparitions, echoes, demons, spirits, and ghosts to slip through. Accordingly, taking place during the autumnal equinox, All Heroes Eve is a fall holiday dedicated to celebrating ancient heroes and iconic figures of the past. A masked carnival is held at night, and people (both children and adults) traditionally dress as their favorite heroes, champions, and historical figures in order to invoke their spirits and honor their lives. It is said that the dead legends may walk among the living during this time, wearing masks so that no one can tell who belongs to the world of the dead or the world of the living. Despite its morbid slanting, this holiday is one of Blest's most joyous occasions. <div class="under-header-frame"></div> <b>Wintersun <i>(Late Winter)</i></b>: Wintersun is a feast day held on the winter solstice, the shortest day of the year. Activities are focused on celebrating the worst of winter being over, the coming of spring and the new year, and themes of renewal and cleansing. A giant cake is traditionally baked with golden raisins and honey (inviting bees, birds, and spring to return), and a huge potluck-style feast is held and shared with as many people as one can gather, to keep each other warm and safe during the chilly winter solstice. Extreme believers in the holiday also jump into icy rivers completely naked at midnight, to cleanse the sins and regrets of the old year and to move into the new year refreshened and renewed. Fairy bread is also a common treat baked on this holiday: a kind of colored custard bun said to predict the consumer's upcoming year via its vibrant dyed fillings. If with company, even the company of strangers, participants are expected to intertwine their arms with their neighbor's and take a bite out of each other's bread, as a way of demonstrating that an individual's fate is tied inextricably with their community's. <div class="under-header-frame"></div> <b>Lovelace Day <i>(Mid-Spring)</i></b>: The Lovelace celebration is a holdover from the Old Faith that champions love in all forms, as well as joy, relationships, and passion. In the past, participants would make hand-crafted lace offerings to the love goddess Hina in the hopes that she would ensure their romances went well. The more complex the lace pattern, the stronger the couple's love would be; the more plain or delicate, the more it was in danger of being torn, leading to a fervor for expensive lace throughout the season (though in some regions, silk or knots of red thread were used instead of lace). In certain rural areas, it was sometimes traditional for a couple to tie the ends of the lace designs to their wrists or fingers at the beginning of the day, connecting them to each other: if they could make it to noon without breaking the delicate thread between them, they could make their offering to Hina intact. Making a broken offering (or worse, no offering at all) was said to provoke the fickle goddess's ire, so great care was taken by the lovers not to leave each other's side while bonded together by the lace. This was considered a popular festival game, and prizes were sometimes even awarded to the couples who could last the longest before making their eventual offerings to Hina's shrine. Although lace offerings have become less prominent over time, the arrival of spring coinciding with the holiday still ensures that amorous moods and vigorous energies usher in the occasion. It is extremely common for dances, balls, and gatherings for lovers and hopeful suitors to be held on this day. "Love potions" and "ambrosia" are often sold at shops and festival stalls for consumption, though the recipes for these vastly differ, ranging from melted chocolate to fruit drinks and everything in between: every merchant claims to have the bonafide secret to Lovelace aphrodisiacs. It is also quite common for sweethearts to purchase paired poesy rings as tokens of affection for each other. Although Lovelace Day is said to focus heavily on romance, Hina was the goddess of all forms of love, including platonic and familial, and the nurturing and celebration of all relationships is encouraged on this day. <div class="under-header-frame"></div> <b>The Wild Hunt <i>(Late Spring to Early Summer)</i></b>: The Wild Hunt, sometimes called the Wild Ride, is a holiday that takes place every year on the vernal equinox: one of the two times in the year that day and night are exactly the same amount of time (the other time being All Heroes Eve). The holiday's roots originate in the Old Faith, but many different interpretations and practices have sprouted from its base, making the original meaning of the holiday hard to delineate clearly. In general, worshipers believe that on this momentous day—the day when neither day or night can overpower the other—the barrier between worlds wears thin, and space and time can become haphazard. In some teachings of the Old Faith, this is when the gods allow the dead who have earned the right to enter the lands of Westrion, said to be the realm of the gods. In some versions, this land is in another world, apart from Blest yet connected to it, as in the case of Hael. In other versions, Westrion lies in the mythical landmass said to reside across the Dyer Oth sea, a strange sea filled with incredibly-turbulent weather, strange vortexes, and terrifying supernatural phenomena. Because few have ever managed to cross that sea alive—and no one has set foot on that foreign continent—some theorize that this is where the gods reside, protected by a mystical barrier that keeps the unworthy from entering their lands. On the day of the Wild Hunt, the gates of Westrion are said to open for the dead who have earned the right to enter them. Either past champions or the gods themselves lead a long procession of spirits—deceased heroes, virtuous saints, and other worthy souls—towards Westrion in a great and stately cavalcade. As the night draws on and the gates begin to close, the procession kicks up into a great soul-raving chase, often said to have one evil mythological figure or shape being pursued by the host of ghostly or supernatural hunters, the heroes and gods riding in wild pursuit. It is said that the hunting party is intent on hunting down and slaying the evil before they return to Westrion to rest. The figures in the Wild Hunt are always gods, the spirits of the dead, and occasionally other fey folk, such as faeries and asteriae, or mythological helpers of the gods, sometimes referred to as angels. The hunted is often an unidentified wicked soul, an embodiment of the coming year's evils and ill luck, or occasionally an Endarkened or the phantom visage of Tapyt himself. Myths about this "wild ride" and the reasons for it vary, but all agree that it is crucial to allow the hunt to be held, undisturbed, in order to ensure the protection of Blest and peace and prosperity for the year. The sound of ethereal hoofbeats is said to be heard on the holiday, growing louder and louder as midnight approaches. In some versions of the myth, people who see or encounter the Wild Hunt risk disturbing it, causing the evil to go unhunted and bringing catastrophe and destruction unto the forthcoming year. In other versions, the sight of the procession itself causes death for the witness, abduction of their soul, or eternal damnation for their hubris. In all versions of the tradition, believers insist that everyone must sleep on the night of the Wild Hunt, retreating indoors and closing their windows before midnight and ignoring the ghostly hoofbeats (and the temptation to look outside). To give in to the desire and look is to bring calamity on the rest of the world... or at best, to have your soul claimed early by a procession of the gods and the dead. <div class="under-header-frame"></div> <b>St. Balthazar's Day <i>(Mid-Summer)</i></b>: St. Balthazar's Day is typically held on the summer solstice, the longest day of the year, or midsummer. St. Balthazar is a canonized saint of the New Church, but his holiday seems to have some pagan roots. Typically on this day, many bonfires are lit in the streets and fields. Friends and couples will jump over the bonfires as loved ones and neighbors form a protective ring around the fires, locking them in. Dancing on hot coals is also said to give one immunity to ill fortune or sorrow. Because St. Balthazar was a healer, many also celebrate his holiday by drinking tonics and toasting each other's good health. Some even fast throughout the day in remembrance of the beloved and humble saint. Others write letters expunging their problems or regrets before burning them in the bonfires, or write down wishes that they hope will come true before tying them to floating paper lanterns. Because St. Balthazar famously grew a rose garden, the rose breed known as "St. Balthazar's Rose" is used to decorate celebrations of this high holy day. <div class="textbox"><i>More on Page 49: Festival Days, Continued</i> - Festival of Lights - Festival of Colors - Grand Feastday - Starfall Festival - Children's Festival - Confectioner's Festival - Vintner's Festival - Scoundrel's Eve - Grand Jesting - Nobility Games</div> <div class="textbox"><i>More on Page 52: Other Significant Church Holidays</i> - The Ceremony of St. Cecily and the Orange Tree - The Rebirth of St. Galatea's Star - The Harpstring Festival and the Garland Moon - St. Caphriel and the Festival of Truffles</div> <</if>> /* comment put a box around this in twine */

<i>A Brief Outline of Police Jurisdictions</i> <i>(I hope this is clear enough, <<c firstname>>! I'm in the process of putting together a work manual for the officers!) - Shery</i> Below is a brief chart detailing the various peacekeeping and law enforcement agencies of the Autarchy. <div class="under-header-frame"></div> <b>The Order of the Shepherds</b>: police officers in charge of investigating demon-related, arcane, supernatural, Gift-related, or Diminished-related crimes and incidents. This includes all Endarkened attacks and sightings, but also encompasses other crimes, such as arsonist Mages setting magical fires, serial killer Ket, and the like (just as an example). It even includes investigating rumors of supernatural activities, such as reports of ghosts or curses. Our jurisdiction also encompasses issues so outside of the capabilities of the Inquisitors or Vice Guard that only Shepherd powers can handle or solve them. In short, these are missions or tasks that could not feasibly be accomplished without the help of Diminished talents and abilities. In addition, we can also be called in to handle problems—especially in regards to Diminished groups—that the presence of Inquisitors or Vice Guards would only inflame. <<if $part gte 3>> See Commander Bronwyn and <<c rank>> <<c surname>> being called away to investigate the disappearance of the Hunters in the Reach as an example, even though no crime had technically been committed and there was no (at the time) evidence of supernatural involvement. Officers of the law were required to investigate the disappearance and solve it, but given the Hunters' history with the Autarchy, the Inquisitors or Vice Guard would not have been welcomed by that community. In those cases, the Shepherds exist to take the reins instead. <</if>> <div class="under-header-frame"></div> <b>The Vice Guard</b>: police officers who have jurisdiction over their own cities and precincts, and who are tasked not only with guarding the city walls and keeping the general streets free of violence or crime, but who are also responsible for investigating mundane, regular, and petty crimes. For example, these would include regular theft, pickpocketing, racketeering, illegal gambling, drug sales, kidnapping, assault, and even murder and homicide. They are also tasked with regulating and monitoring traffic in the city, tax collection, and many other responsibilities. However, their primary aim (aside from protecting the city and the Autarch) is to guard the civilian population against everyday immoral activities, or vices. <b>Note</b>: the Vice Guard handles all crimes that do not have reasonable evidence or tangible ties to arcane, supernatural, or Endarkened activity. If a member of the Vice Guard attempts to turn a case over to you, you <i>must</i> be offered a reasonable amount of evidence—called the evidential threshold—as to why it might warrant Shepherd attention. Use your best judgment or ask one of your captains. Conversely, do not attempt to interfere with a criminal investigation and any related proceedings if you can not offer a solid and reasonable potential tie to arcane, supernatural, or Endarkened activity. If at at all possible, do not invoke your status as an officer of the law in situations over which you do not have technical jurisdiction. <div class="under-header-frame"></div> <b>The Order of the Inquisitors</b>: officers and agents of the Autarch who investigate state and religion-related crimes, including those of heresy, blasphemy, sedition, espionage, treason, rebellion, political assassination, rioting, conspiracy, blackmail, and, occasionally, the unauthorized use of Diminished powers by civilians, especially for political and state crimes. While all three heads of these agencies (the Grand Inquisitor, the Vice Guard Commissioner, and the Shepherd Commander) report directly to the Autarch, the Inquisitors are also tasked with safeguarding her retinue and personally carrying out her and the Golden Son's wishes: they are seen as a more direct arm of the Sun Court. <b>Note</b>: On rare occasions, Inquisitors may try to take certain cases from you, or otherwise attempt to obstruct your investigations for politically-motivated reasons. Do not alter your actions unless they provide an official and sealed mandate from the Autarch or one of her ministers or sons authorizing their intervention. Whatever they may say, the Shepherds are sanctioned and work on equal footing with the Inquisitors. They are not your superiors, though neither are you theirs. The only exception is that the Inquisitors are authorized to carry out inspections of the Shepherds, should they be given compelling evidence that the Shepherds are using their powers in situations where they shouldn't. In short, please do not frivolously exercise your powers in public, and only do so in the cases of legitimate Shepherd work: i.e. where it might aid in you in the investigation or prevention of demon-related or arcane-related crimes. If Shepherd officers do not abide by this and are written up for violations, the Inquisitors may institute mandatory inspections of our premises, weaponry, and officers. Please do not allow it to come to this point. <div class="under-header-frame"></div> <b>Army of the Sun</b>: the soldiers who make up the Army of the Sun are not officers of the law and report to their superiors, who in turn report to their respective general (in Haven's case, the General of the Central Army). They should not be interfering or participating in any investigations or proceedings, barring the occasions they are called in as reinforcements for the Vice Guard in maintaining peace and order (such as for large festivals and revelry, riots). No soldier of the Sun has authority over you, and in fact, in times of emergencies and necessitation, you are free to use them to further your investigation: they answer to you, the Vice Guard, and the Inquisitors. Otherwise, they are generally involved in military, state, or political endeavors, normally outside of the city, and their jurisdiction should not overlap with your own. <div class="under-header-frame"></div> <i> This looks wonderful, Shery. Very clear. - T </i> <i> Great! …How do you know all this stuff, anyway? - Trouble </i>

<center><i>The Ways of the Ket</i></center><i><center>A Travelogue by Yonni Tinwright</center></i> It has been one sennight since the Ket of Ygrath opened their homes to me—and I still know little about them. That in itself is the first truth about the Ket: they are exceedingly-secretive, wary of outsiders, close-mouthed even to their dearest friends. It's a miracle that I've convinced them to allow me, a stranger, to observe them and their way of life. (Not all are happy about my presence, in fact: I sense disagreement and conflict brewing behind closed doors, though on the surface they never allow me to fully sense it. I can only hope my benefactors are capable of protecting me. Assassination seems to be a common way of life here.) I have deduced one important fact about the Ket during my time here. Their society seems to operate by a strict caste system, governed by unspoken rules and divisions. I managed to corner the Common-speaking child of my host—Ket children are famously laconic but not yet impervious to the bribery of foreign candy—and asked him to explain these classes. According to him there are three. These are: <i><b>The Sen Ket</b> - or, the Ket of the Eye</i> The Sen Ket, according to my little translator, are evidently the leaders of Ket society: the rulers, the administrators, the judges, and the lawmakers. Some are born into the caste by dint of their bloodlines, and some are elevated into the caste through merit and virtue. The Sen Ket are regarded as the highest echelon of Ket society and are obeyed without question; it seems necessary to have an absolute authority in a society of deadly warriors gifted with extraordinary strength and resilience, and who may erupt into bloody chaos and battle at any moment. In fact, it is the Sen Ket who decide how to utilize the soldiers of their city-state, where and when to deploy them; and they are the ones who oversee and sanction matters of bloodfeud between two or more slighted warriors. The Sen Ket will typically form councils or senates to help govern and rule their city-states, but these generally answer to an executive leader (generally elected or chosen by merit) called the Kleos, Pax, or Drasil, depending on the region and city-state in question. <i><b>The Rei Ket</b> - or, the Ket of the Heart</i> These are Ket belonging to the civilian caste: Ket who are born with little to no usable arma to speak of. Rather than being denigrated, however, these Ket are generally respected and protected, being the merchants, craftsmen, farmers, blacksmiths, and other tradesmen who make up the lifeblood of the city-state. They can also leave their caste at any time, should they suddenly manifest the potential to become a Khehi or even a Sen Ket. (Young Ket, my translator explains, are tested for their strength and arma at an early age: if their powers are insufficient to fight, they are designated to the Rei caste and marked accordingly. However, they are not separated from their families, even if their relatives are not other Rei. My translator proudly informs me that he is set to be tested soon, though he declines to elaborate on what trials he will undergo.) <i><b>The Khehi Ket</b> - or, the Ket of the Hand</i> These are the fighting Ket—the caste my little translator wants to join. The Khehi caste is the most populous and seemingly most complex group in Ket society, comprised of its world-famous soldiers and warriors. The Ket you meet on the road is very much likely to be a Khehi, out in the world on one mission or another for his city-state. There are even ranks <i>within</i> the Khehi caste—the lowest rank being its soldier class, which has many different sub-ranks of its own. My translator informs me that all Ket children who are deemed worthy of being Khehi start out as soldiers first. They are tested at the age of ten and sent to a special school, where they can refine their arma and techniques and be trained in ways that will be useful to the city-state. When they grow up, these soldiers will be deployed in one of three ways. Either they will be in the reserves, only sent out as footsoldiers during large-scale battles, border skirmishes, or outright war; or they will serve as guards, protecting their homeland and city from infiltration, invasion, and subterfuge; or they will be sellswords, fighters contracted to outside parties who are willing to pay handsome coin for their services. This in turn funds the expansion of their city-state and provides for their people, as their fee is actually paid to their city-state, not to the individual Ket. When you see a Ket acting as the bodyguard for a foreign prince, or as a mercenary, or as a 'van guard, you know then that he is a Khehi on loan to someone who can pay his city-state for the Ket's time and skill. But above all, regardless of whom he currently works for, the Khehi's allegiance remains first and foremost with his people. There are two other kinds of "Hand" Ket, though they must be promoted from the soldier class by the Sen for their immense skill and talent (the process usually takes at least ten years). These elite fighters are the Khehi assassins and the Khehi spies. Khehi spies are deployed for acts of espionage, reconnaissance, and subterfuge, often infiltrating enemy city-states and working to either assess or undermine them from within. The Ket have actually developed a complex treaty called <i>the Code of War</i> to regulate their use: all seven of the main Ket city-states have agreed upon it, says my translator, except one, who is shunned. One concession in the Code of War is that all Khehi-Ket must be tattooed with the insignia of the city-state they owe their allegiance to. If a Khehi spy is caught in foreign territory, one need only check his tattoo to ascertain his guilt. It is a baffling notion, but the Ket are as obsessed with honor and fairness as they are with battle and death. (Some Khehi spies, my translator tells me, have even masqueraded as Norms to keep tabs on the West. <i>That</i> is a very unnerving thought…) Finally, there are the Khehi assassins. Although these are known as the most elite and revered class of Khehi and perhaps of even all the Ket, they are by nature shrouded in mystery and are never publicly recognized as individuals. The assassins, colloquially called "hidden blades" or "those who walk the Shadowed Path," are the most skilled and deadliest fighters among the Ket, versed in dark and lethal arts and brimming with power, skill, and arma. They are employed by their city-states to shift the tides in war, in politics, in the world itself—all without leaving a trace as to who could have done it. But it is a hard and savage life. They are secret kingmakers and silent revolutionaries, and they are hunted at all times by their enemies. It is said that Khehi assassins from the seven city-states all have standing orders to kill each other—and we may never know if any have succeeded or failed… It is a dark and foreboding place, this world of the Ket.

<center>Mages and Ket</center><center><i>Notes from a Lecture by Magister Bastien Agelvar</i></center> Magister: Magic already exists <i>out there</i>, in the world, in the ether that surrounds us all. Magic is a primal force in the universe as much as heat, light, and sound is, even if not everyone can sense it. Mages serve as conduits for that force, opening themselves up as vessels who can receive magic, channel it, and direct and shape it according to their will. They are receptacles that take in the external force, this raw energy, refining it and outputting it again, much as a crucible takes in preexisting material and molds it into a desired product. Moderator: I see. So Mages intake and process and control external energy. And Ket produce, process, and control internal energy? Magister: Yes, precisely. Arma exists within every Ket body, though the natural amount of it varies with each individual. Just as we have blood vessels and a nervous system, Ket have an additional system mapped out across their body through which arma is channeled, vastly intricate and complex. I’m told that there are entire schools devoted to the study of this system, which is comprised of thousands of nodes, gates, meridians, paths, pools, and other such things. They say that a Ket can disrupt the flow of an enemy’s arma—or even invade the enemy’s arma system with his own—by striking one of these points, which is often no larger than the prick of a pin. But I digress. My point is that arma exists within a Ket as an internal power based on life energy. Rather than a Mage, who is a receptacle of outside forces, a Ket is a self-contained, self-sufficient engine. Control of their arma is what allows them to enhance the natural functions of their bodies, allowing them to jump higher, strike harder, or run faster than should be naturally possible. They can also project this internal energy outward, like an electromagnetic discharge or natural electrical pulse. But they can only do this in order to affect physical, internal, or bodily energies. They deal with properties of matter and the flesh. Moderator: While Mages use their minds to affect the ethereal. So they are juxtaposed in two ways, I think: internal versus external—magic is used to manipulate and control external energies, while arma is used to affect bodily powers and kinetic functions. But it’s also mental versus physical: a Mage’s mind and will is the source of their strength, while a Ket’s body is their primary weapon. Magister: Yes. Student: And what of the Elves and the Hunters? It seems that Mages and Ket are directly juxtaposed on the opposite ends of a spectrum. Where do Elves and Hunters fall within this spectrum? Magister: Well, I think the Hunters and the Elves fall a little in the middle of things, with the Elves trending more towards the Mage side of the spectrum, and the Hunters trailing towards the Ket. One could even argue that this is seen in the similarities between their respective cultures: Elves and Mages are more naturally alike, while Hunter and Ket societies seem to prioritize similar things, wouldn’t you say? And Elves have the gift of small magics—they are able to work some sort of power that can be a little like a Mage’s, such as the wards they create to protect their hidden cities—but they also have innate physical abilities more similar to the Ket: their superhuman agility and eyesight, for example. Hunters, on the other hand, have their grace, which is a little like arma in the way that it is only channeled outward, but its effects are more similar to magic… Student: And the Norms? Magister: (laughs) I think that is a subject for another lecture.

<i>The ink on these papers is cracked and faded. The letters are written in the old Mage tongue. It seems to be a charter setting out early Orders of Magekind. </i> <div class="under-header-frame"></div> <center><b>ASTRAL</b></center> <div class="under-header-frame"></div> <b>The Duelki:</b> The Duelki, or Battle-Mages, are combat-oriented, magic-wielding warriors. Their magic is geared towards both explosive destruction and fine-honed, lethal skill, and they shall be trained in both war magic and in the ways of their chosen weapon. Among the Duelki are also Warders—those who specialize in shields, protective magic, and spells that boost or enhance latent abilities—and Knight-Mages, those who share traits with the Ket in their abilities to predict the flow of battle and time. The best among the Duelki shall be called War-Mages: those who may turn the tides of great wars in their favor. Spells that can raze cities to rubble and turn astral forces into weapons shall belong to the Duelki, and their sigil will be thus:<center><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/symbols/battlemage.png" alt="Battle-Mage" width="50%"></center><div class="under-header-frame"></div> <b>The Aetherai: </b> The Aetherai, or Elementalists, are those who exert control over the elements that form this world. Water dwells in their blood, wood in their bones, wind in their voices, and fire in their hearts. Among the Aetherai are those who have power over one element, these being the Aquaeri, the Tidemakers, those who control water and ice; the Zephilim, the Windtamers, those who control wind and air; the Ignitia, the Firespitters, those who control flame and heat; and the Ossa, the Stonebreakers, those who control wood, plant, and rock. The best among the Aetherai shall be called Weather-Mages: those who can call lightning from the sky, and blot out the very sun with cloud and darkness. Spells that change the flow of rivers and cause mountains to move shall belong to the Aetherai, and their sigil will be thus:<center><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/symbols/elementalist.png" alt="Elementalist" width="50%"></center><div class="under-header-frame"></div> <b>The Elae:</b> The Elae, or Healers, are those who deal with corporeal energies. Their magic is used to mend the wounds of the world; they shall soothe injury, expunge corruption, repair wrongdoings, and heal the broken. Among the Elae are those who specialize in healing the traumas of the mind (wearing robes of white); those who specialize in poisons and their antidotes (wearing robes of purple); those who specialize in plagues and disease (wearing robes of grey); and those who specialize in repairing broken objects and things (wearing robes of brown). The best among the Elae shall be called Lifegivers: those who can pluck souls back from the very brink of death. Spells that knit bone and flesh and restore the senses shall belong to the Elae, and their sigil will be thus:<center><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/symbols/healer.png" alt="Healer" width="50%"></center><div class="under-header-frame"></div> <center><b>PSIONIC</b></center> <div class="under-header-frame"></div> <b>The Fera:</b> The Fera, or Wild-Mages, are those who control, summon, speak to, or turn into animals and wild beasts. They are psychically connected to the living creatures around them, and some may even be able to elevate animals to human intelligence, leading lesser beings to become "Woken." Like some Elementalists, many Fera only have control over one particular species or genus of animal, such as felines, canines, equines, reptiles, or birds. Many can project their minds into the bodies of such creatures, inhabiting and controlling them for a time, while others may merely command their legions of wild beasts and influence their wills from afar. Many may also possess a familiar: a bonded animal companion in whom the Fera may store a part of their magic or even a part of their soul. Spells that see into the minds of non-human beings or create connections with wild beasts and creatures shall belong to the Fera, and their sigil will be thus: <center><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/symbols/wildmage.png" alt="Wild Mage" width="50%"></center><div class="under-header-frame"></div> <b>The Dulcetis:</b> The Dulcetis, or Enchanters, are those who use their magic to shift and manipulate humans' senses to their whims. Their magic is devoted to bending the wills and minds of other people, be it through deception and illusion, seduction and desire, persuasion and charisma, or intimidation and force. Among the Dulceti Mages are Illusionists (those who trick their victims' minds with visual projections like invisibility, blindness, or strange visual phenomena); Bewitchers (those who addle and befuddle the mind with spells for eternal sleep, confusion, or paralysis); Charmers (those who may use their powers to beguile, flatter, or persuade); Sensors (those who scan the minds of their enemies and delve into their memories and thoughts for lies or information); and Glamourers (those who may use their magic to alter and enhance appearances, often making features and surfaces appear more beautiful). Spells that trick or persuade the human mind and alter sensory perceptions shall belong to the Dulcetis, and their sigil will be thus:<center><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/symbols/enchanter.png" alt="Enchanter" width="50%"></center><div class="under-header-frame"></div> <b>The Argentis:</b> The Argentis, or Diviners, are those who use their magic and perception to sense or see what others can not. Their magic is devoted to peering into the unknown, using their mind's eye to pierce the shrouds of time and space. The Argenti Mages are generally divided into three classes: the Sages (those who divine what happened in the past, usually using a focus or historical artifact); the Scryers (those who spy and eavesdrop on scenes in the present); and the Seers (those who attempt to look into the future and form prophecies about what might come to pass). Spells that lift the veil of time for viewing and clarifying hidden events shall belong to the Argentis, and their sigil will be thus:<center><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/symbols/diviner.png" alt="Diviner" width="50%"></center><center><div class="under-header-frame"></div> <b>ARCANE</b></center> <div class="under-header-frame"></div> <b>The Astrigai:</b> The Astrigai, or Binders, are those who use their magic to tie and anchor arcane energy to other things. Their magic is for storage and confinement, and for the creation and invention of the new. Astrigai will most often devote their energy to "tying" forces to inanimate objects. Many (called Runecutters) focus on weapons or magical artifacts, binding spirits to statues, energy to swords, enchantments to amulets, charms to jewelry, spells to armor, and everything in between. Runecutters are also adept at storing magical energy in certain objects (like lodestones) to use for later as arcane batteries, or can even store specific spells to be unleashed by those who would not otherwise be able to wield magic. Binders are able to infuse something as insignificant as chalk with power, able to craft and trigger traps, wards, or spells with ease, as well as confine energies within certain areas, rendering them harmless or inert. A few among Binders are called the Whisperers, Mages who anchor spirits or beings of energy to dead bodies in order to animate them as puppets. Spells that require the use of runes and which bind any essence, form, or energy to something else shall belong to the Astrigai, and their sigil will be thus:<center><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/symbols/binder.png" alt="Binder" width="50%"></center><div class="under-header-frame"></div> <b>The Mutai:</b> The Mutai, or Change-Mages, are those who use their magic to change the properties of objects, creatures, or people. Their magic is for transformation and shifting, and for the alteration of physical properties and materials. Among the Mutai (sometimes also called Shifters) are the Alchemysts—those who can change materials and objects from one thing to another—and the Shrouders, shapeshifters who can change their own forms to become whoever or whatever they please. The most powerful of the Mutai shall be called Synergists: magic-users who can change things at the smallest level, and in doing so produce and create entirely new substances and effects. Spells that transform things from one state to another and alter physical compositions shall belong to the Mutai, and their sigil will be thus:<center><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/symbols/shifter.png" alt="Shifter" width="50%"></center><div class="under-header-frame"></div> <b>The Obsidai:</b> The Obsidai, or Conjurers, are those who use their magic to summon things from one place to another. Their magic is for teleportation and transportation, and for the convocation of things across space. Among the Obsidai are the Conjurers true—those who use their powers to call objects to them, from food out of thin air to weapons from the ether to waiting armies in valleys continents away. There are also the Travelers: Mages who are able to conjure themselves across vast distances, translocating instantaneously from one place to another. The most powerful among these are the Worldwalkers: those who can use this magic to slip between different worlds and dimensions themselves. Finally, there are also the Summoners—magic-wielders who invoke spirits and entities from other planes to be bound for service, companionship, and even friendship. [Among these last are the Sorcerers: those who would dare to summon the Endarkened from Hael, and form blood-contracts with them in an attempt at control. But these shall not be considered a part of this Order, or any other.] Spells that summon, conjure, invoke, or transport things or people across space and the planar walls shall belong to the Obsidai, and their sigil will be thus:<center><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/symbols/conjurer.png" alt="Conjurer" width="50%"></center><div class="under-header-frame"></div> <i>At the bottom of the page are many faded signatures, presumably belonging to the founders who convened to make this pact. </i> <div class="flex-column col-1 text-center"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/codex/magictypes.png" class="" /> </div> /* The most powerful among the Argentis shall be called Arbiters, those who can see even into other worlds and different lives—the untraveled paths and choices not taken in this one. */

<i>(There is a red seal on the cover of the ledger that indicates that it has been banned for speaking ill of the Autarchy. You notice that one edge is slightly singed, as if this copy has been rescued from a fire.)</i> <center><b>The Rising Sun</b> <br><b>A Student's Guide to Nobility in the Autarchy</b></center> The lowest level of nobility in the Autarchy consists of LORDS, LADIES, and SUZERAINS. LORDS, LADIES, and SUZERAINS rule FIEFDOMS, which are parcels of land (small or big) inhabited by VASSALS, or citizens. The territory of Courtshore, for example, is currently a FIEFDOM ruled by a LADY, and the territory of Lockwood is a FIEFDOM ruled by a SUZERAIN. While LORDS, LADIES, and SUZERAINS rule and manage the day-to-day affairs of their individual FIEFDOM—their finances, trade, military, resources, and needs of the people—they are ultimately beholden to their greater HOLDING-RULERS, belonging to a collection of fiefdoms called a HOLDING. The fiefdoms of Brunen, Orlop, Strindmor, and Kinley, for example, belong to a larger holding called Westhold, which is ruled by the Duke of Kinley. The Continent is divided into many little fiefdoms, which are all also parceled together into many different holdings. LORDS, LADIES, and SUZERAINS swear fealty to their HOLDING-RULER, and a small portion of their fiefdom's earnings goes to the HOLDING-RULER at the end of the year. LORDS, LADIES, and SUZERAINS are also sworn to provide military aid to their HOLDING-RULER whenever it is needed, and complicated trade agreements exist between fiefdoms in the same holding as well as between the holdings themselves. The title of a HOLDING-RULER varies depending on how many FIEFDOMS are under their control. The ranks generally go as follows: Duke/Duchess/Coronet: 30 or more fiefdoms Margrave/Margravine/March: 20 or more fiefdoms, <i>at least half of which are considered border territories or important points of strategy in war or trade</i> Marquis/Marquess/Marq: 20 or more fiefdoms Count/Countess/Counte: 15 or more fiefdoms Viscount/Viscountess/Viscounte: 10 or more fiefdoms Baron/Baroness/Baroni: less than 10 fiefdoms Each HOLDING-RULER also holds a seat on the CONSORTIUM, the Continental or "federal" court headed by the Autarchy. While the LORDS, LADIES, and SUZERAINS deal with governing their small and specific FIEFDOMS, HOLDING-RULERS are responsible for ensuring that all of the fiefdoms in their HOLDING are abiding by the laws of the Autarchy. Many HOLDING-RULERS occupy additional positions and duties within the Sun Court: the Baron of Tlanth, for example, may serve as the Autarchy's Minister of Trade as well as master of his holding in the South. In addition, HOLDING-RULERS are often engaged in complex political dealings to enrich or improve the status of the FIEFDOMS within their HOLDINGS. They may seek to gain more territory from their rivals, negotiate better trade agreements with each other, or curry the favor of the Autarch. Notably, while HOLDING-RULERS are responsible for paying their own taxes to the Sun Court and the Autarch's coffers, they are left to decide exactly how much they will contribute each year. This, too, becomes a complex political maneuver, as well as an elaborate guessing game: no HOLDING-RULER would like to bankrupt themselves by donating too much, but if they contribute less than their peers or rivals, they may fall out of favor with the Sun Court—or be singled out for their disloyalty. Along with serving in the Sun Court for most of the year, HOLDING-RULERS will often return to their own lands for a season, generally to hold court and hear the petitions of their own VASSALS or the LORDS, LADIES, and SUZERAINS of the FIEFDOMS they hold. It is considered an exciting time for young nobles from different fiefdoms to gather together every year at the court of their HOLDING-RULER, and some of these courts have become quite famous as the sites of important political and social events for the nobility. Along with the Sun Court in Haven, where only the most powerful nobles go to play high-stakes games of intrigue, there are also these courts for the lesser nobles to gather and spar: the SUMMER COURT in the South, held in the city of Courtshore; the WINTER COURT in the North, held in Sacor; the IRON COURT, held in the West in Kinley; and the ROSE COURT in the East, held in Ambryn. <i>(There is a note towards the end of the page, written in small and delicate script.)</i> <i>I will turn 13 soon and go to the Winter Court with my cousins. I can't wait for my debut!</i> <i>One day I will go to the Sun Court in Haven and show them all who I am… </i>

<center><i>A Guide to the Gods of the Old Faith</i></center><center><i>Written by Unknown</i></center> Although the Autarchy has dismantled many of the institutions of the Old Faith, the religion itself continues to inform and influence the lives of the many men and women who still believe in the holy Summit of Gods. I have taken the liberty of detailing—in as concise a list as possible—the most prominent of the myriad gods of the Old Faith; their legends; whether they were the patron god/creator of a particular race; and the traditional methods of worship that are attributed to them. It should be noted that this list is by no means complete: there are countless smaller or unnamed gods that may be particular to certain regions, cultures, or beliefs, and any attempt to document them all seems an impossible task. It should also be iterated that the gods have not made a physical appearance on this plane since the end of the Dawn Wars, leading some to believe that they were merely exceedingly-powerful mortals who have since died, while others insist that the gods are locked in a deep slumber, tired from their struggles against their enemy, Tapyt-Who-Dwells-In-The-Void. In this latter canon, the belief is that the gods dream: their creations continue to move in the currents of their dreams, without their conscious guidance, and subconsciously the world follows the rhythms of their sleeping brains. Where once the gods could directly interact with or even manifest in our mortal realm, now they are veiled by slumber, able to reach us only through their dreams, which are said to touch our world through visions and prophecies of our own. Occasionally, it is asserted, their attention may sharpen, and they may rally themselves enough to select a champion, a proxy or a vessel of sorts, to speak directly with and communicate through—but gone are the days when they might have appeared in our midst and proclaimed their intentions and desires themselves. This belief has given rise to a common saying, especially among the Elves: <i>Aiya eldalië</i>, which translates roughly to, <i>The gods have no hands in this world but ours.</i> Naturally, this new conception of the gods' diluted power (and the various theories and interpretations of how it works) has given rise to much confusion, ambiguity, misinterpretation, and occasionally even charlatans claiming to speak on behalf of the gods for their own gain. This has in turn led to increased skepticism and lack of faith towards the old gods. Among the devout, however, it is thought that continued worship and belief have the power to draw the gods’ attention and increase their strength even as they slumber, and that one day the content of their dreams—and the activities and continued faith of their mortal children—will draw them out of their long sleep and back to the waking, mortal world. When their sleeping minds stir, roused by veneration or fervent prayer, miracles are said to occur. <div class="under-header-frame"></div> <center><b>THE SUMMIT OF GODS</b></center> <b>The Timewinder, Lu</b> – The goddess of time, and one of the two primordial gods who created the rest of the Summit. It is said that Lu has always existed and has no physical form. She is not typically worshipped among followers of the Old Faith. <b>The Aether Son, Ul </b>– The god of space, and one of the two primordial gods who created the rest of the Summit. It is said that Ul has always existed and has no physical form. He is not typically worshipped among followers of the Old Faith. <div class="under-header-frame"></div> <b>The Dayspear, Narthax</b> – The god of light, order, truth, and justice. <i>Legend:</i> It is said that Narthax was the first god to be created by Lu and Ul; he is generally considered leader of the Summit. He is also sometimes called Firstborn. Narthax oversaw the creation of the world and resented his brother Tapyt’s intrusion upon it, since Tapyt introduced chaos, entropy, and disorder to Narthax’s utopia. Their conflict eventually resulted in the cataclysmic Dawn Wars. <i>Patron god of:</i> The Hunters, whom Narthax created to hunt and kill the children of Tapyt. <i>Worshipped by:</i> The Hunters, as well as leaders, truth-seekers, lawmen, and workers for justice and peace. Kings, judges, and policemen in particular pray to him for guidance. <i>Method of worship</i>: Confession at a dedicated shrine, usually once a week. <div class="under-header-frame"></div> <b>The Nightwalker, Tapyt</b> – The god of shadow, chaos, deceit, and corruption. <i>Legend:</i> Tapyt is the god and creator of the Endarkened, whom he made in his name and shape after being barred from participating in the creation of the world. He spent years causing chaos and violence by allowing his children to terrorize the creations of his siblings. The acts of depravity that the Endarkened committed allowed Tapyt to grow in strength, so that it took all of the Summit to storm his fortress and throw him down. Because gods cannot be slain, he and his children were instead banished to an abyssal void called Hael. It is believed that Tapyt is always scheming to return from the Void and has found ways to send his children back to the mortal realm in the gods’ absence. <i>Patron god of</i>: The Endarkened, whom he created to terrorize the Children of Light. <i>Worshipped by</i>: Heretics. Worship of Tapyt is considered evil and blasphemous among followers of the Old Faith. <i>Method of worship</i>: Blood and animal sacrifices have always been part of dark rituals associated with Tapyt. It is said that violence, deception, and mayhem fuel his dark powers, as well as those of his children. <div class="under-header-frame"></div> <b>The Pale Mother, Mitna</b> – The goddess of the night, moon, and secrets. <i>Legend:</i> It is said that she takes the form of the moon in the sky. When she was young, Mitna fell in love with Corvus, the Darkwatcher and god of stealth and secrets, and had a child by him. However, Corvus left her when he fell in love with a mortal woman (various sources will claim that the woman was a Ket, an Elf, or a Mage). Corvus would descend to earth once a month to visit his lover, and on the nights of their dalliances, the Pale Mother would hide her face in shame. She guards her daughter jealously, afraid of her being stolen away. <i>Worshipped by</i>: Seers and hedgewitches, who believe their spells are more powerful under the gaze of the full moon. Also mothers, midwives, and child-rearers. Pregnant women often wear silver jewelry, so that Mitna may bless their babies. <i>Method of worship</i>: Wearing or offering moonstones, opals, and silver. <div class="under-header-frame"></div> <b>The Moondaughter, Ainue</b> – The goddess of the stars and clouds. <i>Legend:</i> The daughter of Mitna, the Pale Mother, Ainue takes the form of the world’s smaller moon, the Polar Candle. She is never allowed to leave her mother’s side and spends her time drawing constellations in the night sky or making shapes in the clouds. Her beauty is said to be legendary, even among the gods. <i>Worshipped by</i>: Astronomers and often sailors, who look to the sky for Ainue’s designs. Women who long to be attractive will sometimes wear charms dedicated to Ainue, hoping to be blessed with her lustrous beauty. <i>Method of worship</i>: Wearing lunar talismans, most often involving ivory, crystal, or diamonds. <div class="under-header-frame"></div> <b>The Brightburner, Althea</b> – The goddess of the sun, fire, and knowledge. <i>Legend:</i> She takes the form of the sun, and is Mitna’s sister. In the old texts, she is often seen at Narthax’s side, but it is unknown if she is Narthax’s daughter, sister, lover, or friend. She is said to be among the wisest of the Summit; it was her knowledge that sparked the beginnings of civilization. However, she is proud and quick to anger, and her wrath can be extremely destructive. Only Narthax, who is fair and just, is able to soothe and advise her. <i>Patron goddess of</i>: The Mages, whom she created to shed light on the world and embark on pursuits of the mind. It is also speculated that she created the Elemental Flamelings during a fit of pique. <i>Worshipped by</i>: Most Mages, as well as scholars—particularly historians, scribes, and writers. <i>Method of worship:</i> Candles are always lit in Althea’s honor, and it is said she favors those who wear gold. <div class="under-header-frame"></div> <b>The Green Lady, Bes </b>– The goddess of spring, growth, and the earth. <i>Legend:</i> She is the creator of all plant life and natural terrain on the planet; her domain lies in flowers, trees, and plants. She and Thimben created the Elves together. Bes is said to desire eternal spring on earth, and is locked in a constant battle with her rival, the Winterfather. Spring is a time of victory for Bes; summer is when her power becomes overzealous; fall is when her power begins to wane; and winter is when she is defeated—temporarily—by Nante, the god of winter, cold, and decay. <i>Patron goddess of</i>: The Elves, whom she created alongside Thimben, as well as the mossy Hill Folk. <i>Worshipped by</i>: The Elves, as well as gardeners, farmers, and botanists. <i>Method of worship</i>: Herbs, flowers, and trees are planted in Bes’ honor, particularly during special festivals. When trees are cut down for wood, a prayer to Bes is traditionally said to avoid incurring her wrath. Sometimes crops from a bountiful harvest are laid at her shrines. <div class="under-header-frame"></div> <b>The Wildheart, Thimben</b> – The god of all living beasts and animals. <i>Legend:</i> He is the creator of all wild creatures; he is the one who made the ox strong, the hare swift, the fox clever. It is said that he often takes the shape of a wild animal himself, to run alongside his creations. Some hunters are superstitious about unknowingly encountering the god and offending him by attempting to slay him. <i>Patron god of</i>: The Elves, whom he created alongside Bes. He also created the Woken beasts. <i>Worshipped by</i>: The Elves, as well as hunters, rangers, and herders. <i>Method of worship</i>: When an animal is killed, Thimben’s name is invoked so that he may approve of the beast’s necessary death (when the carcass will be used for food or pelts). If thanks are not offered to him, the animal’s death is considered unrighteous and bad luck will befall the killer. Some communities will craft offerings out of animal products (trinkets of bone or fur pelts) to offer to Thimben’s shrines. Rarer still, some will release an animal back into the wild in his honor. <div class="under-header-frame"></div> <b>The Lady of the Waters, Dewi</b> – The goddess of water, rivers, lakes, and the sea. <i>Legend:</i> Dewi holds domain over all channels of water on the earth and is said to be as inconstant and fickle as a stream. Although kind-hearted, her favor is easily-withdrawn and her temper can be explosive. She is said to love Bes, the Green Lady, but was not deemed mature enough to participate in the creation of the Elves, who are steadfast and unchanging—the opposite of Dewi’s unpredictable nature. Instead, she created the Undine, whom she promptly hid away in the depths of the sea. <i>Patron goddess of</i>: The Undine. <i>Worshipped by</i>: Pirates and sailors, who pray to Dewi for safe passage, as well as divers and healers. <i>Method of worship</i>: Libations and baptisms. <div class="under-header-frame"></div> <b>The Windracer, Noonfirth</b> – The god of the wind and air. <i>Legend:</i> Noonfirth controls the wind and is said to be as unpredictable and fickle as Dewi—at one moment as gentle and loving as a child, and the next as arrogant and blusterous as a warrior. A trickster, he hates the sound of silence and will sometimes snatch the words from a speaker’s mouth and bear them to the person who should hear them least. <i>Patron god of</i>: The Sylphs, a group of invisible air Elementals, as well as the Asteriae, a winged people who have vanished from the Continent. <i>Worshipped by</i>: Athletes, particularly racers, as well as archers and messengers. <i>Method of worship</i>: Floating lanterns and kites are released to the winds on Noonfirth’s behalf during special festivals. Chimes are also hung in the windows of his worshippers’ homes. <div class="under-header-frame"></div> <b>The Stormbringer, Pelinel</b> – The goddess of storms, rain, thunder, and lightning. <i>Legend:</i> She calls storms to cleanse the earth and brings the rain to crops. It is sometimes speculated that Pelinel and Dewi, the goddess of water, are sisters. Pelinel is a hard worker who would be content to let storms rage on for all eternity; she needs Noonfirth, the prankster, to sometimes blow her work away. <i>Patron goddess of:</i> The Drakes, who have not been seen since shortly after the Flowering Era. <i>Worshipped by</i>: Some elemental Mages as well as tribes living in the Jalis desert. <i>Method of worship</i>: Weather vanes and lightning rods are attached to the tops of worshippers’ homes in order to call Pelinel’s storms. <div class="under-header-frame"></div> <b>The Winterfather, Nante</b> – The god of winter, snow, and decay. <i>Legend:</i> Nante is a stern, unforgiving god who is locked in constant battle with Bes, the Green Lady who loves spring. Nante is said to be humorless and grim, though not malicious. His rare laughter is believed to cause blizzards, so Nante hides himself away somewhere to the north, away from populated areas. Some say that travelers can encounter his fortress at the frozen Eye of the World—if they can survive the trek there. <i>Worshipped by</i>: Many communities in the northern climes. Followers throughout the Continent also dedicate the traditional winter Changeday to praying to Nante for an easy winter. <i>Method of worship</i>: Bleached animal bones are left at his shrine. <div class="under-header-frame"></div> <b>The Darkwatcher, Corvus</b> – The god of silence, stealth, and death. <i>Legend:</i> Corvus and his brother, Tholjass, created the Ket together. It is said that Corvus is the most cold-hearted of the gods and has the ability to leap from shadow to shadow, appearing anywhere without warning. Because of this, many expected him to join Tapyt’s side of the Dawn Wars and dwell with him in the Fortress of Night. However, Corvus was the most steadfast and deadly of fighters among the gods, and helped Narthax strike the blow that banished Tapyt. Legend says that Corvus later fell in love with a mortal woman, to the surprise of many. When she died, he was unable to resurrect her, having only the ability to bring death. As a god of silence, he never speaks. <i>Patron god of</i>: The Ket, whom he created alongside his brother, Tholjass. <i>Worshipped by:</i> The Ket, as well as assassins and thieves. <i>Method of worship</i>: Silent meditation at a dedicated shrine, or a prayer said at the moment of a death-blow. Some priests and warriors spend their entire lives in silence in devotion to Corvus, calling him the Wordless One. <div class="under-header-frame"></div> <b>The Swordbearer, Tholjass</b> – The god of war, battle, weaponry, and death. <i>Legend:</i> He created the Ket alongside his brother, Corvus. Tholjass is a demanding, passionate, and bloodthirsty god who nonetheless cares deeply about mortals, and was one of the most frequent visitors to the mortal plane prior to the Dawn Wars. When he aids select champions in battle, it is said that those warriors will become invincible until victory is assured. Tholjass and Corvus share the duties and powers of dispensing death among mortals. Untimely deaths, or ones caused by sickness or mishap, are often blamed on disputes between the two brothers, which cause each to neglect his responsibilities as a god of death. <i>Patron god of</i>: The Ket, alongside his brother Corvus. <i>Worshipped by</i>: The Ket, as well as warriors, soldiers, fighters, and mercenaries. <i>Method of worship</i>: Using blessed weapons and shields adorned with Tholjass’ symbol will earn the god’s favor in battle. <div class="under-header-frame"></div> <b>The Builder, Ishkur</b> – The goddess of invention, architecture, machinery, agriculture, craftsmanship, and labor. <i>Legend:</i> A younger goddess, Ishkur is said to have planted the seeds of mankind’s advancements and achievements throughout civilized history. Also known as the Tinkerer, she watches over innovators and creators, supposedly serving as a muse for their inventions. It is said that the other gods disapprove of her, because she becomes so focused on her creations that Ishkur never stops to consider the long-standing effects they’ll have on mortals. Some canons of the Old Faith attribute the creation of the Norms to her, though the truth of this remains unclear. <i>Patron goddess of:</i> The Norms. <i>Worshipped by</i>: Inventors, craftsmen, farmers, blacksmiths, and laborers. <i>Method of worship:</i> A figurine of Ishkur is kept on the mantle or worktable of her worshippers, so that she may watch over their work. <div class="under-header-frame"></div> <b>The Trader, Gu</b> – The god of enterprise, business, trade, travel, wealth, and math. <i>Legend</i>: Gu is a younger god who watches over the business affairs of mortals. He loves contracts and transactions, and will often demand that worshippers trade him something or sign a contract before he aids them. He is not greedy, but is extremely fastidious about precise numbers and binding vows, believing that nothing in life should be free. Economic depressions are said to send him into apoplexy. <i>Worshipped by:</i> Merchants, traders, treasurers, moneylenders, and caravan masters. Interestingly, tourists are often encouraged to carry likenesses of Gu while they travel throughout the Continent, as he is also said to watch over travelers. <i>Method of worship:</i> Coins are offered to shrines of Gu in exchange for his favor. <div class="under-header-frame"></div> <b>The Singer, Orgael</b> – The god of music, poetry, art, culture, and literature. <i>Legend:</i> Orgael is a younger god who encourages the creativity and artistic endeavors of mortals. He serves as a muse to those who devote themselves to cultural pursuits such as writing, painting, or sculpting. However, he is said to be extremely flighty and erratic, choosing only a few favored disciples at a time and abandoning them as abruptly as he seizes them. Orgael is said to be the most open-minded of the gods, encouraging mortals in their freedom of expression, but he is also supposedly the most vain and cowardly. <i>Worshipped by</i>: Bards, minstrels, musicians, writers, poets, artists, playwrights, actors, and dressmakers. <i>Method of worship:</i> Songs are sung in Orgael’s name and in his temple during times of worship. <div class="under-header-frame"></div> <b>The Lover, Hina</b> – The goddess of love, joy, and celebration. <i>Legend:</i> Hina is a younger goddess whose power depends on the belief and activities of her subjects more than most. She loves to watch over the households of close-knit families, to attend the celebrations of friends, and to visit on special occasions to bask in the joy of mortals. She is also a goddess of romance and is believed to carefully arrange the matches of destined couples across the Continent. However, mortals often stray from her desired paths and thwart Hina’s efforts to give them love or happiness, frustrating the goddess. Although she would never lie with a mortal, believing that they all have destined soulmates among each other, Hina is notorious for hopelessly falling in love with any god she sees—until the next one comes along. <i>Patron goddess of</i>: The Sprites, a tiny, butterfly-winged people who can sometimes be found in many hidden pockets of wilderness. <i>Worshipped by</i>: Lovers, married couples, and families. Special holidays and festivals across the Continent are dedicated to both Hina and the spirit of joy and celebration. <i>Method of worship</i>: Wearing special charms and making wishes at Hina’s shrines will usually bring good cheer to a worshipper, in one form or another. <div class="under-header-frame"></div> <b>The Cursed One, Orauna</b> – The goddess of bad luck, suffering, and misfortune. <i>Legend:</i> Orauna was the lover of Tapyt and is excluded from the Summit of Gods as well as mortal worship. Not much is known about her, except that she has two faces: one the visage of a pale, beautiful lady with raven hair, and the other a dark, rotting, eyeless mask. It is said that she sometimes comes in the guise of an old crone or beggar. Droughts, blights, and plagues are often blamed on her. Gambling and games of chance supposedly draw her attention. <div class="under-header-frame"></div> <b>The Bloodbather, Pafit</b> – For some reason, almost all knowledge of this god has been lost to the annals of time. No one knows what Pafit was once worshiped for, and what he is said to have created.

<center><i>Doctrine of the One</i></center><center><i>Chapter 4, The Dawn Wars</i></center><center><i>Brother Ansem Vorah</i></center> <i>In time a man who called himself the Nightwalker rose up and claimed to be a god. And those who were faithful to the ONE knew him for what he was: a mere sorcerer, a charlatan. A man named Tapyt. A powerful man, an evil man, but a mortal man nonetheless. And the ONE shunned him for his blasphemy—for there can only be ONE. And in the shadow of the holy ONE'S rebuke, the Nightwalker wreathed himself in dark and profane arts. Through magic and sin he created the Endarkened: wretched beings made from his seed that drew power from the evils of the world and the wickedness of those who did not believe in the ONE. These Endarkened worshiped the Nightwalker, and fed his monstrous powers. They were a blight upon the ONE'S good earth and began to rot XER creations. In time the ONE could no longer abide by the Nightwalker's slights. XE cast the blasphemer down, breaking his body and his mind. In XER good and holy judgment the ONE decreed that the blasphemer would suffer eternal punishment. <center> Instead of death and the embrace of the ONE, Tapyt and his children must reside in Hael, to reflect on their sins for all of time. </center></i> <span class="redacted">Thank you for your faith, child...</span>

<center><b><i>The Seven Trials</i></b></center> <i>How does one determine who is a Mage and who is a Hedgewitch? How do we single out those who have a drop of Mage blood in them as having talent and potential—and lift them from the crowds of those who may never show a flicker of power, despite their lineage? </i> <i>In the old days, hopeful students were required to pass five out of seven tests—or trials—in order to gain admittance to one of the great Mage Colleges. From there, they could become accredited, taught and trained in controlling and augmenting their powers. Solhadur was no exception: in fact, it once boasted that its students were required to pass all seven tests!</i> <i>Well. Times have changed, and the Circles can no longer afford such stringency. But the trials are simple enough so that even the weakest Mage could pass them, if they are truly a Mage, and four successful runs should be quite enough. If they cannot pass muster… then they are a Hedgewitch, or no magic-user at all, and they may be dismissed back to whatever life they led before they ever heard of the Veiled Circle of Capra.</i> <i>…</i> <i>Take care, when administering these tests. Young magic-users, particularly in adolescence, may have trouble controlling their powers. Do not take this as a sign of failure—they may only need the proper training to refine their technique. Make sure all seven trials are administered, too: although they ascend in intensity and difficulty, there is always the chance that a hopeful may excel in one area but fail in a simpler one. Do not let an early failure prevent a prospective Mage from undertaking all seven tests.</i> <i>Another accredited Mage should be supervising the trials at all times, not only to prevent accidents, but also to gauge the hopeful's level of power. Even if they should fail the trials, but demonstrate great power regardless, they should be considered for acceptance into the Circle. </i> <i>(Exercise your good judgment, Red. I have faith in you.)</i> <i>—Archmage Tevanti</i> <div class="under-header-frame"></div> <b>Trial One: Sensing if another Mage is nearby.</b> This is the most basic and natural of all Mage instincts: any Mage worth their salt will have manifested this ability as a babe. Bring the hopeful to a crowded place, where you will have planted a Mage, or several, or none at all, and dampen your own magic. If they can sense the others—or deduce that there are none at all—they will have passed the first trial. If they fail at even this, they are most likely a Hedgewitch or even lacking in magic altogether. <div class="under-header-frame"></div> <b>Trial Two: Levitating an object without touching it.</b> This, too, is usually how magic manifests itself very early on in children. Ask the hopeful to levitate an ordinary object: something solid enough that it can't be shifted by an errant breeze, but light enough not to prove impossible. A cup or a shoe will do. Place the hopeful at least three feet away. They need not move the object very far—an inch or even less from the surface of the table would do—but it must hover, even for an instant, for the second trial to be passed. Twitching and wobbling will not do. <div class="under-header-frame"></div> <b>Trial Three: Unlocking a door without touching it.</b> Place the hopeful behind a solid wooden door (supervising at all times, to prevent lockpicking and cheating). Place a heavy, sturdy metal padlock on the door and instruct the hopeful to unlock it by any means possible. Many will simply cause the lock to fall off—the simplest use of this magic—or will turn the mechanisms inside without touching them, but others may melt the lock or blast the door open. This is an acceptable result. They may touch the lock only if they mean to crush it with magically-enhanced strength. (And give them time to accomplish this feat. Some may take several hours of concentration. Failure to get out of the room results in a failure of the trial.) <div class="under-header-frame"></div> <b>Trial Four: Conjuring a light.</b> Lead the hopeful into a dark, windowless, and quiet room, extinguishing all other sources of light, and instruct them to illuminate the space. Be it by regular flame, mage-light, or witchlight, any creation of such will be acceptable (even knocking a window into the wall, which has happened before). Inability to penetrate the darkness, even by a bit, will result in a failure. <div class="under-header-frame"></div> <b>Trial Five: Heating a tub of water.</b> Gauge the hopeful's level of success so far and determine what container of water should be given. Those whose trials are going poorly should be given a cup; those who are demonstrating outstanding potential should be given a bath tub. Fill the container with ice-cold water and ask them to heat it by any magical means possible. (Please be wary of fires breaking out.) Failure to get the water to reach room-temperature within a half-hour is a failure of the trial. <div class="under-header-frame"></div> <b>Trial Six: Repairing a broken object.</b> Take a simple plate or bowl and shatter it as cleanly as possible: not so that it is nearly dust, with millions of tiny pieces, but so that it is broken in two to ten large shards. Ask the hopeful to repair the object. Spells in this area have ranged from <i>elae</i> magic to a tiny reversal of time. Failure to mend even one shard is a failure of the trial. <div class="under-header-frame"></div> <b>Trial Seven: Soothing a wild animal OR healing a papercut.</b> These last trials are the most difficult and advanced, and should be decided given the hopeful's success record so far. Those who show promise may be led to the field of an unruly stallion, or the home of a cantankerous cat, or even to the den of a bear if you're feeling confident: an animal that is known to be wild and disruptive—even dangerous—is what's needed. Then—taking precautions—ask the hopeful to hold the animal still with their mind, even for a moment. Open your senses in this trial: you will know if the animal simply freezes on its own or if it's being held in place by the magic or will of the hopeful. An animal who takes a <i>liking</i> to the potential also does not count as a success: many have auras that make them approachable to wild creatures, but this is not part of being a Mage. If the hopeful succeeds in causing the animal to hold still, instruct them to make the animal walk in a certain direction, or in a way that it wouldn't usually. Hopefuls who accomplish even this should be marked as very promising. If you feel this trial is too dangerous to attempt with your hopeful—or if you simply want to make them take an eighth test—give them a small papercut on an unmarked area (the fingers are usually best) and instruct them to close the wound. They may not touch or pinch the cut together, and may only use their magic to attempt the healing. BE VERY CAREFUL OF WARPED OR DEFORMED LIMBS IN THIS TRIAL. Have a Healer on-hand in case of accidents.

<center><span class="song"><b>THE SHEPHERD’S OATH</b> Be without fear in the face of your enemies. Strive for vigilance, peace, victory, and sacrifice. Act in the name of justice and honor, that you may serve as a light in the dark. Safeguard the innocent and defend the weak. Serve unwavering as a blade of the divine. <b>The Order of the Shepherds "Hounds in Peace, Wolves in War"</b> </span></center>

<center><i><b>The Drunken Mage, Or: The Razing of Capra</b></i></center> <i>…So take caution, my lad, Raise your drink, and be glad! But don’t ever pass it on to a Mage!</i> <i>Have you heard of great Thale? He hailed from Westdale, And all knew him as powerful, wise, and sage—</i> <i>Then came the day when he came across ale! And it was then that his wisdom did fail— For Thale filled his cup and began to drink!</i> <i>Why, his magic went wild, his brains grew soft! And the streets were ablaze, the trees were aloft! All because poor Thale couldn’t think!...</i> <i>…</i>

<i><center>On Spirits and Demons</center></i><center><i>By Lachlann Ceirog</i></center> Summoning is already a dangerous and fraught art in itself. So much can go wrong; a novice might smudge a chalk circle or miscalculate a rune; what is summoned from the Other Side might not be what one expects at all. We need not add ignorance to this already-combustible mix. So many in our world demonize—and I do not use that word lightly—the art of Summoning, purely because they misunderstand its purpose and nuance. They accuse us of conjuring and cavorting with demons, and that is not so. Spirits and demons are completely different. Demons reside in Hael. If we abide by the Old Faith, they were created by the god Tapyt and thrive on the pain, suffering, madness, and conflict of the Children of Blest. They exist independently from us—though they cannot procreate—and are, in general, evil incarnate. Spirits come from a different plane: perhaps it lies between Blest and Hael, or perhaps it is beyond human comprehension and structure entirely. This realm has gone by many names throughout the centuries: it has been called the Other Side, the Shapeless World, the Realm of Spirits, the Eternal Sea, the Great Unknown, and many other monikers. We do not know much about it, but we do know that it is not Hael. It is 'some other place.' Spirits who have proved capable of describing things have described it as nothing and everything, all at once. It is a vast ocean of mingling essences, as inseparable as drops of water in the sea and as impenetrable as the darkness of the space between the stars. In that other world, time does not exist, and spirits have no distinct identities, but seem to merge into a single consciousness, like a vast cycle of blood converging and mingling freely in an infinite, unending body. There is no order in this world, because there is no matter and no division: only infinite swirling colours and flashes of memories which are shared by all spirits there, due to their lack of innate individual identity. We do not know how individual spirits come to exist in this 'void of everything.' All we know is that some eventually 'pull away' from the ocean, emerging from the primordial ooze that binds them all together. Some theorize that their world is an echo of our own, and cataclysmic events here have reverberations and ripples there, disturbing the waters of their world enough that small droplets detach and form their own globules. This would explain how some spirits seem to have knowledge of great historical events in our world, particularly of terrible battles or cataclysmic changes, even when they are newly-summoned; some can even imitate or manifest the identities of people who are recently dead. Some scholars suggest, then, that perhaps these spirits are mere reflections, pale ripples formed and influenced by strong forces from our world that somehow reach into theirs. Others believe that it is the Summoner himself who gives shape to the spirit, plucking it out of the great Ocean and giving it form, essence, and permanence by giving it a name and nature. Scholars of this faction believe that all spirits who are summoned from the Other Side are merely iterations who have already been found, named, defined, and summoned by Mages of the past, all things occurring in an infinite cycle, with the spirits forgetting their past masters and deeds each time they return to the Eternal Sea before being summoned anew. But this theory begs the question: how did the first Summoner draw the first spirit out of its world without a name? The sad fact of it is that no one knows the full truth behind the magic of Summoning spirits. Many devote their lives to understanding this arcane art, but few have succeeded in complete mastery. We know how the process works, to a large degree, but we do not quite know <i>why</i> it works, or how it started. What we do know is that spirits are not demons and do not share their natures. Some are very happy to be given 'life,' an identity and anchor outside of the Other Place; they are glad to be actualized and made solid and 'real,' and they serve their masters loyally, grateful to be given form and purpose. Others are resentful, conniving, and even vengeful, longing to return to the quietude of their Infinite Sea and freed from their containment, bondage, and servitude. A Summoner's work lies in finding and binding the spirits who can serve and fulfill his goals. We have at least discovered that each spirit has a different quality to it: some absorb and embody emotions and personality traits, others certain powers or even memories, still others elemental forces and animal natures, and the majority operate at different levels of strength and resilience in our world, being graded into many different categories, orders, and degrees. But they are adamantly not demons, and we Summoners should not be ostracized for not treating them as such.

<center> <b>Chapter 2 - A Court of Thorns </b></center><center><i>By Lady Tiana Levant</i></center> <div class="under-header-frame"></div> The laws of the Sun Court are myriad and complex—and I speak not only of the actual, written laws, which change with the Autarch’s mood and whims, but also the unwritten social rules that govern the members of the Consortium. None of these protocols are ever taught or discussed explicitly; they can only be learned and inferred by observing the most successful courtiers. For example: two courtiers may never exchange written, private messages between the times of noon and sunset. To do so will invite scandal and rumor. To do so at night will boldly “legitimize” a dalliance. To do so in the morning will indicate familiarity between trusted friends. To dance with more than three partners at a ball will earn one the reputation of being a flirt. To dance with less than three will signify one’s status as a hopeless cast-off. One must watch the Autarch closely when he eats—and yet make it appear as if one is not scrutinizing him. For to eat more than the Autarch, the Golden One, the Son of Heaven, is to signal the height of arrogance—for one must believe, then, that he deserves to have more than the Herald of God. And on and on. Of course, the secret currents of the Sun Court do not revolve merely around idle gossip and titillating scandal. The stakes are the highest in the land. It is understood among all that sabotage, even between brothers, is expected in the Sun Court—but never to the point of death, unless the Autarch wills it. The pure-blooded Norm nobles of the high Houses are too precious to be cut down; instead they must be carefully cultivated, herded, controlled. As such, the methods of poison, duels to the death, and other forms of assassination are strictly forbidden in the dealing of political rivals. Hostage-taking, blackmail, bankruptcy, and seduction are permitted and even encouraged, depending on the pleasures of the reigning Autarch. This is why the families of Sun Courtiers are rarely seen in the Sun Court itself, instead residing far away from Haven and out of the reach of potential enemies. Instead, only the young (and often unmarried) scions are sent to court, and many are even disowned by their Houses until they achieve a position of high regard in the Autarch’s eyes. To learn the ruthlessness—even cruelty—of a true courtier is not only a young heir’s rite of passage into adulthood. It is his only path to survival, just the same as a hunter learning to be cunning while he is surrounded by wolves…

<i>This seems to be a copy of an ancient Hunter text, judging by the fading of the ink and the older Common script it uses. Many of the races listed within have either disappeared or gone extinct.</i> After the Dawn Wars, the Endarkened were banished from this realm and locked in Hael by the gods. However, there were some creatures that remained in their wake—demonic creatures we once assumed were twisted Endarkened, but who have somehow been able to remain on our plane even after the gods' purging of their kind. These are my research notes on these Tainted creatures, which I entrust to the archive in Uth Baryd. It is with a heavy heart that I lay down my suspicions: I believe that the Tainted are the offspring of Endarkened and Children of Light, the latter of which must have been taken captive during the wars and forced to carry demonic spawn, or otherwise seduced. It must be the Light in their offspring's blood that enables the monsters to remain in Blest, serving as an anchor for them to this world. This is why they were not sealed in Hael—though what they will do without the command of their Endarkened masters and progenitors, I cannot say. We have driven most of them to the Waste and the Realm-of-Ghosts: we patrol the borders of those wastelands to ensure unwary travelers never wander into Tainted territory. But if my theories are correct, I must go there soon, to see if I can find any captive Children of Light and ensure their lines of reproduction are broken. Before I go, I leave what I have been able to deduce about the Tainted, lest I fail to make it back home alive: 1) Some, observed from a distance, are manlike in appearance and do not necessarily seem to be inclined towards mindless violence: some are thinking beings, able to communicate and form strategies just like any other. It is unknown if they feel true emotion or simply make a performance of it. These must be the offspring of Cacophants. 2) From what we observed during the war, it seems that the Tainted are connected to the Endarkened hive-mind, the same as their pure-blooded cousins. They are not able to resist the call and commands of greater demons, though with the Endarkened now sealed in Hael, I do not know if they can still communicate with or feel the impulses of their creators now. 3) Our cleansing powers affect the Tainted just as they do the Endarkened—but we are not always able to detect their presence the same way we can smell a demon's. This is quite alarming. 4) The Tainted seem to have been bred to serve as weapons and fearmongers against us, and many have inherited powers that seem to exactly mimic or counteract our own. I can only hope these wretched hellspawn die out soon, and that these notes may never need be used. <div class="under-header-frame"></div> <center><i>TYPES OF TAINTED</i></center> <div class="under-header-frame"></div> <b>Asag</b> - The offspring of Endarkened and <b>Changelings</b>. While Changelings are able to shift their own shape at will, the Asag appear to be black, formless masses, unable to hold their forms together for long. However, they are deceptively fast in crossing ground, and the touch of their skin is acidic. They have been known to swallow people whole. Do not speak if you know an Asag is near: it possesses the cunning ability to steal its victims' voices, which causes no end of trouble. <div class="under-header-frame"></div> <b>Fext</b> - Quite indistinguishable from normal Blessed, Fext are the offspring of Endarkened and <b>Elves</b>. Like their Elvish counterparts, they are quite beautiful—their ears are pointed—and they seem to naturally live for a very long time. However, they must drink the blood of others to extend this immortal life, and their keen senses (also inherited from the Elves) are often overwhelmed by sunlight. Other than the need to drink blood, which can seemingly be satiated with animals, they do not appear to be particularly malevolent. However, caution must always be exercised. <div class="under-header-frame"></div> <b>Shades</b> - Always possessing blood-red hair, Shades are the offspring between Endarkened and <b>Mages</b>. They are the most common of the Tainted, as Mages—or rather, Sorcerers—possess the unique ability to summon Endarkened back to this plane themselves. Many are tempted or seduced into coupling with their wretched summon, resulting in the offspring known as a Shade. While Shades are frequently human in appearance and sometimes even in personality, the Endarkened blood in them is controlled inextricably by their demonic progenitors. Most are inclined to savagery and cruelty, and many possess a form of magic that seems to be a twisted mix of Endarkened magic and our own. They are dreadfully strong and fast, and a few possess the ability to hunt the objects of their strange obsessions, trailing them to the ends of the earth without tiring. They rarely seem to feel pain, and are among the most dangerous of Tainted. <i>Note: I hear rumors that—although most Shades are solitary and will even kill their own kind for dominance of their territory—some Shades have formed a kind of twisted society to the north of the Waste, on the banks of a dead volcano in a place called only the Citadel. Apparently they are ruled by a queen, though how this works, I shudder to contemplate.</i> <div class="under-header-frame"></div> <b>Balor</b>: The offspring between Endarkened and <b>Ket</b>. Balor are quite monstrous in appearance, possessing strange, craggy, almost reptilian skin and glowing yellow eyes (leading me to wonder if their parents are Revenants). They are barbaric and hulking, usually eight to ten feet tall, and possess a bodily strength to rival the Ket. Although they speak, they do not seem to have much free will of their own, and have been observed eating meat alive or raw, as animals do. There is much infighting between them, but they live in roving herds regardless. They are capable of taming wild beasts as mounts. Their appetites—for food, territory, or bloodshed—are insatiable. <div class="under-header-frame"></div> <b>Ghasts</b>: The offspring between Endarkened and <b>Norms</b>. It is unclear if Ghasts are manlike or animal-like, thinking or mindless, as communication has never been achieved with them. Ghasts are extremely pale, with the ashen skin of the dead, and many seem to bleed consistently through the eyes, so that deep rivulets form on their cheeks. They are strong enough to strangle a person with their bare hands (their favored method of killing) and some emit a strange red light from their eyes or throat, which lures unwary travelers to them. Their scream can stupefy their victims, at which point they lock them in a deadly embrace. They seem to be attracted to warmth and huddle near the borders of the Wastes, trying always to slip past our defenses: you can hear their inhuman cries and shrieks at night. <div class="under-header-frame"></div> <b>Lugra</b>: The offspring between Endarkened and <b>Asteriae</b>. We call them Stormwings, and they seem to have been bred to kill the Asteriae, those fey winged people who live among the clouds (though the Asteriae have not been seen in some years: prevailing theories claim that their floating cities have left this Continent or that they sleep with the gods). Lugra are giant (horse-sized) birds with metallic wings, one steel feather of which is so razor sharp that it can cut the skin instantly. Some Lugra have the heads of humans with shark-like teeth, while others are raptor-like, possessing long, vicious grey beaks and talons. Both kinds love to drop down from above to shred their prey to pieces. If you see a Lugra circling overhead, take cover—or pray that you have a Mage who can shield you from their deadly wings. <div class="under-header-frame"></div> <b>Wyverns</b>: The offspring between Endarkened and <b>Drakes</b>. Although Drakes themselves are divided into two groups—those who ally with the Children of Light, known as Daydrakes, and those who do not, known as Nightdrakes—Wyverns seem to be their Tainted cousins. Whereas Drakes are winged and can breathe fire, Wyverns are smaller, two-legged, lacking wings, and venomous: one nick of their fangs will kill a grown man. It is said that the most powerful of them possess a noxious breath that turns people to stone, those this rumor remains unverified. <div class="under-header-frame"></div> <b>Nightgaunts</b>: The offspring between Endarkened and <b>Elementals</b>. It is unknown which of the Elementals the Endarkened captured for this purpose—the Flamelings, the Undine, the Sylphs, or the Hill Folk—but we know that their spawn, the Nightgaunts, are capable of controlling darkness and shadow. A Nightgaunt is vaguely human in shape, thin, dark, mute, and faceless. Its skin is slick and rubbery, and it sports a pair of inward-facing horns on its head, a long barbed tail, and a set of membranous wings that it uses to hover off the ground. Nightgaunts make no sound, and prefer to suffocate their prey with inky darkness, drawing out their deaths and feeding on their suffering. <div class="under-header-frame"></div> <b>Mounts</b>: Although not the spawn of Endarkened, Tainted have been known to tame the animals of the Waste, including vargur—spotted dogs with shortened necks and powerful jaws—amazotz—fast and deadly hunting lizards—and nemeks—strange, leathery-gray creatures that have shark-like heads and ridged backs. Balor, especially, have been sighted riding these creatures across the Waste and using them in battle. <<nobr>><<if $amazotz is false>><<notify_codex_bestiary "Amazotz">><</if>><<set $amazotz to true>><</nobr>> <div class="under-header-frame"></div> <i>… the notes become indistinct here …</i> <i>- Hethe Prince</i> <i>506 ME</i>

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<b>Aetherai</b>: another name for those who practice Elemental magic. <b>Ahfuri</b>: a fast, cat-like steed a little larger than a horse. Originally a wild Plains cat, ahfuri are the preferred method of travel across rocky terrain, scalable mountains, and open grassland. They are quite fast but are not marathon runners. Although they have useful hunting and fighting capabilities, they are often difficult to train and are frequently banned in populated cities. <b>Archdemon</b>: the current ruler of Hael, and the sole demon capable of controlling all other children of Tapyt through a kind of hive-mind. <b>Archmage</b>: a leader of a group of Mages. This is most commonly used in an academic sense: a Mage who served as the chief administrator or dean of a school or college was referred to as an Archmage, but it was also historically used in reference to civil positions. Political rulers of a Mage city-state or governors of a leading council were also referred to as Archmages. <b>Argentis</b>: another name for those who practice Divining magic. <b>Arma</b>: the internal energy source that Ket draw upon to fuel their powers. Every Ket can access basic levels of their arma to varying degrees, making them much stronger, faster, more alert, and more physically-skilled than other races. Advanced use of arma involves being able to see in the dark, reading and predicting an opponent's movements in advance, and even channeling arma into an enemy's body. This can shut down their nerve centers, rupture internal organs, and wreak massive internal damage—making the Ket the deadliest fighters on the planet. <b>Asteriae</b>: a race of winged people who have seemingly vanished from the Continent. They were said to have built their floating cities in the clouds. <b>Astrigai</b>: another name for those who practice Binding magic. <b>Autarch</b>: the ruthless and rational leader of the Norm-dominated government, the Consortium, and the ruler of the tyrannical empire that has dominated the Continent. The Autarch is always a pure-blooded Norm and is rarely seen outside of the Sun Court. <b>Autarchy</b>: the semi-oligarchic, Norm-dominated empire led by the Autarch. Along with crushing all remnants of the pagan Old Faith, it has outlawed the use of any form of magic or non-human gift, except what is sanctioned by the government. Anyone seen breaking this law is executed on sight. The Autarchy's military is called the Army of the Sun; its main governing body is the Consortium; and its specialized task force dedicated to hunting down insurgents, blasphemers, heretics, rebels, and spies are the Inquisitors. <b>Aya Lani</b>: an old saying, possibly Elvish in origin. It means "the gods smile," and is said in times of good fortune and prosperity. <b>Blest</b>: the official name of the Continent. Although it was once separated into many countries and city-states, it has since been dominated and unified by the Autarchy and is usually called simply "the Continent" by natives. <b>Blue Norin</b>: also called a “soldier pill.” While not actually pills, these hard little seeds are often ingested by warriors to bolster strength, alleviate weariness, and sharpen the mind. Distributed en masse to Norm soldiers during wartime. Ingesting too much blue norin or taking it too frequently will lead soldiers to overexert themselves, resulting in extreme withdrawals and even death. <b>Cacophant</b>: an extremely powerful demon who can assume the shape of a regular Child of Light, rather than merely possessing a vessel. A Cacophant can disguise its presence from all people except Hunters, and is the most deadly form of Endarkened to commonly walk Blest's plane. <b>Castigation</b>: the cataclysmic war between the Gifted races and the Norms, waged over 200 years ago. Due to their superior technology and expansive numbers, the Norms were able to defeat their Gifted opponents, Diminish them, and establish the Autarchy. <b>Charch</b>: a foreign import from countries outside of the Continent. A special leaf that, when smoked, alleviates feelings of hunger and stress. Popular among soldiers and travelers. Non-harmful and non-addictive, it comes in many different flavors. <b>Children of Light</b>: a name for the combined citizens of this world, as opposed to the citizens of Hael (the Endarkened). The Children of Light include Elves, Mages, Ket, Hunters, Norms, Changelings, Asteriae, Drakes, Elementals, Woken, and many others—though many of these races seem to have vanished or gone extinct altogether. <b>Consortium</b>: the political court surrounding the Autarch, comprised of Norm nobles and politicians. Though they only govern and administrate the lesser or everyday decisions of the Autarchy, members of the Consortium are often crueler than the Autarch herself, both to their constituents and to each other. <b>Danar</b>: a chunky copper bit, and the lowest form of currency used in Blest. Twenty danars is equal to one lyss, and one hundred danars is equal to one deucalion. <b>Dawn Wars</b>: the ancient wars between the Children of Light and the Endarkened, said to have taken place near the beginning of the world's creation. <b>Daybell</b>: "daybell," "noonbell," and "nightbell" are ways of referring to the hourly time in Blest. Eight in the evening to four in the morning are nightbell hours; four in the morning to twelve in the afternoon are daybell hours; and twelve in the afternoon to eight in the evening are noonbell hours. Blest citizens can refer to the time as "ninth nightbell"—nine in the evening—or "sixth daybell"—six in the morning, et cetera. <b>Demon</b>: a creature fashioned by the traitor god, Tapyt. The term “demon” is not usually used in polite society and is instead swapped out for “Endarkened.” <b>Deucalion</b>: a ribbed gold coin and the highest form of common currency in Blest. One hundred danars is equal to one deucalion, as are five lyss. Many people refer to deucalions as "dukes" or simply "gold." <b>Diminished</b>: a name for any gifted humanoid race besides the Norms. This includes the Elves, the Hunters, the Ket, and the Mages, who are referred to as “Diminished” because of their defeat during the Castigation and their resulting subservient position in society. Some Diminished have lost their ancestral powers due to centuries of oppression and the dilution of their natural bloodlines. <b>Duelki</b>: another name for those who practice Battle magic. <b>Dulcetis</b>: another name for those who practice Enchanting magic. <b>Elae</b>: another name for those who practice Healing magic. <b>Elf</b>: a member of a race of people who are blessed with long lifespans and an affinity with nature. Identified by their pointed ears, Elves are generally stronger, faster, and more graceful than the average Norm. They are able to communicate with animals and plants and also possess the gift of tongues, allowing them to understand and speak any earthly language. Secretive and elusive, Elves historically had access to specific magical tricks, referred to as “small magics,” which allowed them to isolate themselves from the outside world. Slow-moving perfectionists, they often have trouble relating to non-Elves, as their sense of time and urgency can be very skewed by their long lives. <b>Endarkened</b>: a polite or superstitious way of referring to demonkind. Other names for the Endarkened include "the Children of Darkness" or "the Children of Tapyt." Endarkened are grouped into different classes according to their power and the danger they pose to the Children of Light. From weakest to strongest, the classes are: Thralls, Tainted, Imps, Revenants, Cacophants, and Archdemons. <b>Far-Speak</b>: a mode of communication used by Mages. Mages can set up magical nodes and "throw" their voices to them, speaking to each other across great distances. However, because the nodes are location-specific, a Mage might inadvertently open a far-speaking channel into an empty room or interrupt an important meeting. <b>Fera</b>: another name for those who practice Wild magic. <b>Gifted</b>: a name used for non-Norm races prior to the Castigation. Because the gods allegedly “gifted” each race with a special power, people such as the Elves, Mages, Ket, and Hunters were widely considered the gods' Blessed or Gifted children. The Norms, however, were not allowed this moniker, and were considered inferior due to their lack of powers. <b>Glamour</b>: a spell that disguises or alters one’s appearance. <b>Grace</b>: another name for a Hunter's innate power or ability to sense, hunt, bind, cleanse, exorcise, and destroy Endarkened. Said to be a gift from the gods. It almost always appears in the form of a radiant white light.

<b>Hael</b>: a world that runs parallel to the world of Blest. Some legends state that Hael was created by the gods to seal away Tapyt, the Nightwalker, the traitor god who first created the Endarkened. Others claim that the realm was created by Tapyt himself, a dark mockery of Blest after he was barred from its creation. This realm is inhabited entirely by demons. Other names for it include "the Void" or "the Abyss." <b>Haven</b>: the capital city of Blest and the seat of power for the Autarchy. It was once the grand city of the Mages, called Magus, before its conquering many centuries ago. It is a tiered city built on top of a vast plateau, famous for its white stone walls, magical architecture and hidden wards, and the complicated canal system that runs down to the river in the valley below. <b>Hedgewitch</b>: a derogatory term for the weakest of magic-users and shamans. Most “hedgewitches” have only the barest trace of magic in their blood, if any at all; as a result, many are simply charlatans. Hedgewitches are used for duties such as fortune-telling, potion-making, cold-curing, baby-blessing, and wart removals, usually in very rural areas. They are not considered true Mages, and calling a Mage a "witch" or a "hedgewitch" is a dire insult and somewhat likely to result in violence. <b>Hraqa</b>: a Hunter's chosen weapon and the conduit for their Hunter powers, exorcism abilities, and grace. A Hunter's hraqa is their weapon for life and is considered sacred and deeply personal; no other Hunter may use it unless in a life-or-death emergency, and even then such an act is considered violative. For some reason, hraqa are always silver. <b>Hunter</b>: a member of a race of demon exorcists. Identified by their snow-white hair, most Hunters devote their lives to the arts of exorcism: hunting, cleansing, and destroying Endarkened. Hunters are the only ones who are able to accurately sense when a person is possessed by a demon, and can use their powers to separate demons from unwilling hosts without harm. Their gift, however, comes at a price: Hunters are driven into an uncontrollable blood frenzy when demons are nearby, unable to stop fighting until their enemy is obliterated—even if this comes at the cost of their own lives, or the lives of their loved ones. The Hunters live in a secretive, somewhat fanatical society, jealously guarding their arts from the outside world and devoting their lives to extreme physical and spiritual training. They are quite short-lived in comparison to other Diminished races and have arguably been the most affected by the Castigation. <b>Iladrin</b>: an Old Common word for the distinctive glow in a Mage's eyes that marks them as a magic-user. Although not every Mage possesses it, it's sometimes seen as a sign of power or prestigious bloodline among traditionally-minded Diminished. <b>Inquisitors</b>: an elite branch of the Consortium tasked with hunting and punishing blasphemers, rebels, traitors, spies, and above all, those who break the laws prohibiting use of Diminished power. Inquisitors serve as the eyes, ears, and hand of the Sun Court and personally report to the Autarch and her firstborn son daily. Although they sometimes roam the land in public death-squads, exterminating rebellious Diminished with impunity, they are also known to disguise themselves and seamlessly infiltrate communities, from the lowest Diminished workhouses to the social circles in the Sun Court itself. <b>Kak</b>: an expletive that can be used as both a noun or an adjective. Ex: "Everything he said was kak," "What's your kakking problem?" When used in reference to a person, it is spelled kaq. <b>Ket</b>: a disciplined, severe, warlike race of people comprised largely of warriors, soldiers, assassins, spies, and fighters. The Ket are sought the world over for their skills in combat and warfare. They operate according to complex social protocols and adhere to strict codes of honor and loyalty. (It is said that the word of a Ket is the most unbreakable weapon that exists.) Despite this, the Ket are also considered bloodthirsty and violent by others due to their cultural and militaristic focus on battle. Their society historically sanctioned assassinations, bloodfeud, and duels to the death as a way to settle civil affairs, and they are traditionally governed by a rigid caste system. Most Ket individuals are gifted with superior physical abilities, drawing from an internal energy source or life essence called <i>arma</i> to enhance their superhuman speed, strength, reflexes, and other physical skills. Identified by their unique weapons and tattoos, Ket are considered by some to be a counterbalance to Mages: whereas Mages draw on their minds to influence the <i>external</i> world, the Ket use their bodies, blood, and limbs to channel intense <i>internal</i> power. (Note: due to their cultural emphasis on service to the community over the individual, the plural word for "Ket" is the same as the singular.) <b>Khav</b>: a dark caffeinated drink, most often served hot, made from the ground seeds of a plant grown only in the southern isles. <b>Khehi</b>: the soldier caste within most Ket city-states. A member of this caste is most often referred to as a "Khehi-Ket." The Khehi caste is sub-divided into several different ranks, groups, orders, and classes. <b>Kisich</b>: an expletive meaning a coward, a worm, scum, someone who is lower than mud. <b>Kuketch</b>: a creep or voyeur. <b>Lyss</b>: a thin silver coin that is the second-highest denomination of currency in Blest. Five lyss are equal to one gold deucalion. Some people refer to lyss as simply "silver." <b>Maelstrom Era</b>: the ancient period of time involving the creation of the Endarkened, the Dawn Wars, the banishing of Tapyt and his Children to Hael, and the disappearance of the old gods or the One-God. <b>Mage</b>: a person gifted with powers that can influence the external world. Identified by their glowing eyes, Mages possess varying levels of power and control over their abilities and usually specialize in a specific school of magic. These specializations can include war magic, elemental magic, healing magic, and et cetera. Mages are often academic by nature, as their magical power is rooted in their mental concentration and willpower. Unlike the Ket, their counterparts, they are not particularly gifted at physical feats of strength. When a Mage's mind is tired, they are unable to summon their abilities or wield their spells effectively. As a result, many Mages are also unable to safely consume alcohol or drugs. Although many of them were hunted to death during the Castigation and their official colleges were dismantled, it is said that some Mages still train together in underground “Circles.” <b>Matha</b>: the scar carved on the back of an initiated Hunter's right hand. A badge of competence and worthiness, it signifies that the Hunter has undergone his or her official rite of passage and is a full-fledged, trained exorcist. A Hunter's <i>matha</i> traditionally bears the symbol of the sun as an homage to Narthax, the god of light and justice. <b>Maquillage</b>: makeup; face paint for aristocrats. Kohl, rouge, blush, powder, and other cosmetic products used for beauty are collectively called maquillage. <b>Mutai</b>: another name for those who practice Transformative magic. <b>Muti</b>: an insufferable jackass. The stronger and more insulting derivative is <i>sharmooti</i>, which implies one's awfulness is so inescapable that it will pass on to one's children. <b>Mythas</b>: a Kettish term loosely translated as honor or moral imperative; sometimes meaning an unbreakable oath. A creed that one must always follow; a cause, belief, or philosophy that one dedicates oneself to; a complex sense of honorable conduct and unshakeable loyalty that governs a Ket's life. <b>Narthax</b>: the god of light, justice, and order. Brother to Tapyt. It is said he had a hand in shaping all of the Children of Light, though he is the patron god of the Hunters only. <b>Norm</b>: a human person not born with any kind of supernatural gift or racial power. Historically considered inferior and even cursed, Norms were ill-treated by the Gifted races until the Castigation. In order to survive and compete with their superpowered peers, the Norms developed superior technology and inventions, revolutionizing the world with gunpowder, trains, and sophisticated, widespread agriculture. Their poor sustainability practices and rapid birth rate initially earned them disdain from the other races, but they are now the ruling power of the world. Norms comprise the majority of the population within the Autarchy. <b>Obsidai</b>: another name for those who practice Conjuring magic. <b>One-God</b>: the single deity that the Norms worship, in contrast to the pantheon of gods that many Diminished worship. According to Diminished legend, the gods lovingly created each Gifted race, excluding the last-born Norms. The Norms rejected this belief and believe in a fairer creator god: the One-God, their patron idol, who is in essence all of the old gods made manifest in one being, and who designed the world according to a specific plan. and with love in Xer heart for all. <b>Paska</b>: a crude, singular exclamation; a stronger alternative to "Damn!" <b>Plinith</b>: a large stringed instrument similar to a piano.

<b>Qaid</b>: a Hunter word, title, and suffix meaning "savior" or "hero." It is a term of the highest honor. <b>Qul</b>: the traditional tattoo that Ket warriors receive over their hearts upon their initiation into civil or military service. Before the Castigation, it was required by the Ket's Code of War as a way to identify Ket by their native city-state and allegiances, subverting attempts at espionage, subterfuge, and assassination. Now it merely serves as the mark of a warrior, and can signify lifelong dedication to a cause. <b>Revenant</b>: a monstrous form of Endarkened who has enough power to anchor itself to the world of Haven without the need for a native host (as in the case of a Thrall). However, this class of Endarkened lacks the ability to disguise itself among the populace and often appears in its real, distorted form. A Revenant often appears as a huge, lumbering monster with pale, opaque skin and pitch-black eyes. Despite its lack of finesse, this Endarkened is still extremely powerful and able to kill a mortal with one swipe of its claws. <b>Sennight</b>: a period of time lasting seven nights (a week). Two sennights is equal to one fortnight (fourteen nights). <b>Servori</b>: a colloquial phrase meaning “the way is closed." Essentially a verbal shrug, it is meant to convey ambivalence, or express that it is impossible for the speaker to guess or predict something. <b>Shade</b>: the offspring of a Sorcerer and an Endarkened. Common superstition says that a Shade can either be born in the form of a man, but with the nature of a demon, or it can be born looking like a demon, but with the nature of a man. <b>Shepherd, Shepherds' Order, Order of the Shepherds</b>: a police force (or member thereof) established by the Autarch to protect the general populace from Endarkened, Tainted, and other arcane or supernatural threats that can’t be handled by the city’s Vice Guard or the general military. An elite paramilitary force comprised of fighters and experts from every race, the Shepherds are the only organized group of Diminished who are sanctioned to freely use their powers by the Autarchy. Opinions on the Shepherds tend to be extremely divided: many Norms are suspicious of Diminished who are given free reign to use their powers, while many Diminished resent the Shepherds as traitors and dogs of the Autarchy. On the other hand, many people view the Shepherds as selfless heroes and Haven's sole bulwark against the growing demonic threat. The Shepherds have established their first headquarters in an old tower that once belogned to a famous Archmage. <b>Siktir Lan</b>: an old phrase meaning "the gods shit on us." Said in disgust or despair in unfortunate situations. <b>Sol</b>: the Hunter word for chieftain, leader, ruler, or king. Although each Hunter clan and tribe scattered across the Continent has its own leader, they are all united under the rule of a regional <i>sol</i>. Sol-hood is usually hereditary, passed down through families, but a sol's right to rule can be challenged at any time through combat. <b>Sola</b>: the Hunter word for a sol's "second," or right hand. The sola is responsible for protecting their sol for life, safeguarding them and usually leading the Black Shield, members of the sol's special guard. A sola is almost always a close blood relative of a sol and is forbidden from having a family until well after their sol has started one. In the event of a sol's untimely death, a sola will often enter self-imposed exile out of shame for their failure to protect their ruler. Some were once even expected to throw themselves on the sol's funeral pyre. Rule of a Hunter tribe almost never passes to a sola, but rather, to the direct heir of the sol. This is to prevent solas from being "incentivized" to allow their sol to die in order to inherit their throne. <b>Sorcerer</b>: a Mage who uses occult rituals to summon demons and force them to carry out their work. Sorcerers seek to control demonkind, but often wind up possessed and turned into Thralls, either involuntarily or through bargaining with the demon for more power. Sorcerers are loathed by Diminished and Norms alike, and often commit horrendous acts in their quest for arcane mastery. <b>Sun Court</b>: the sumptuous court of the Autarch and seat of the Consortium. Located at the very crown of Haven. <b>Tai</b>: a type of cream tea drink from the North, only recently popularized among Haven's younger crowd. It can be served sweet or heavily-spiced. <b>Taika</b>: a primarily Elvish word and concept meaning <i>blessing</i> or <i>gift by blood</i> (specifically from the gods). It refers to both to the racial powers that originally made the Diminished folk the "Gifted" (as in, a Ket's arma is part of his <i>taika</i>, a Mage's magic or a Hunter's grace the same) as well as the theory that the entire world, the gods' creation, is infused with a <i>taika</i> essence that touches every life on the Continent. Like flowers being fed by the sun, the overarching <i>taika</i> lifestream is what informs, creates, and manifests the holy, fey, or supernatural in the mortal world, flowing outward from the gods and into beings like the Gifted, the Drakes, the Asteriae, and the Elementals. Ambient <i>taika</i> in the world and its atmosphere is what nourishes racial <i>taika</i>, and vice-versa. As the gods' power waned following their stalemate with Tapyt, however, <i>taika</i> in general is thought to have receded from the world, leading to the slow weakening of the Elder races and eventually allowing the Gifted to become subverted into the Diminished. Many of the world's current problems, according to this theory, are caused by a lack of <i>taika</i>, Gift, "aethersong," or "fey essence," leading Blest to become an overall plainer and duller place than it once was. The Castigation and Norm subordination of the "old world," relegating much of <i>taika</i> culture to the realm of fairytale and paganism, has supposedly contributed to its depletion from the world, according to this belief. <b>Tainted</b>: evil creatures that are not full Endarkened, but are “tainted” with demonic influence or blood. They are usually the offspring of true Endarkened and captive or seduced Children of Light. Tainted creatures include Fext, Ghasts, Banshees, and many more. <b>Tapyt</b>: also referred to as the Dark Father, Tapyt Nightwalker, or simply the Nightwalker. According to the Old Faith, he is the god of shadow and chaos, and the progenitor of the Endarkened and demonkind. <b>Thoret</b>: said to be one of the rarest substances in the world. A dark metal formed from a combination of orichalcum, cold iron, and other materials, it completely negates any Diminished Gift. This means magic, arma, or any racial power is unable to affect it, and direct contact with it will cause a Diminished person's abilities to go dormant. It can also burn the flesh of Diminished upon contact. Mysteriously, it is rumored that prolonged proximity to it will drive Norms mad. Only seven artifacts forged from pure thoret are said to exist in this world: at least one of these is the Manacles of the God-King Shabarat. <b>Thrall</b>: a mortal host or vessel who has been possessed by a demon. If a Thrall is an unwilling host, they are usually easy to defeat and can often be saved from their possession. However, if the Thrall voluntarily summoned the demon into themselves or willingly gave the demon entry into their souls, they are much more dangerous in battle, and the demon cannot be safely extracted from the host. <b>Tifin</b>: a small Elvish piping flute that mimics birdsong. It is extremely unpopular among non-Elves, and its music is considered quite esoteric. <b>Translocation</b>: a Mage's art involving disappearing from one location and materializing in another. It can be used to travel instantaneously across vast distances, but only works if the Mage has been to their destination before and knows it very well. <b>Tsirai</b>: a stringed instrument extremely popular among bards and minstrels that's typically strummed, similar to a guitar, mandolin, or a lute. <b>Valke</b>: a stringed instrument played with a bow, known for its high, sweet notes. <b>Vex'ka</b>: a shortened expletive that roughly translates to "nine fucking Haels (upon you or this situation)." <b>Vice Guard</b>: Haven's everyday police force; the city guard working directly for the Autarch and in charge of fighting the capital's ordinary crime (such as theft, larceny, arson, murder, and assault). Widely-regarded as corrupt or incompetent. Composed exclusively of Norms. <b>Vytas</b>: a popular Elven drink that replenishes energy and restores the body. Most similar in taste to mixed fruit wine, though regional variants are often hotly contested. <b>Yiwari</b>: the famous hunting dogs of the Plains. Large and energetic hounds, they are said to be able to track a target across the breadth of the Continent without ever losing their quarry's scent. <b>Wayward Era</b>: the period of time (over two hundred years ago) that involved the Castigation, the Diminishing of the Gifted races, and the rise of the Norms. <b>Zib</b>: crude slang for asshole (anatomy). <<nobr>> /* We can simply reuse the tab functionality from journal/inventory like this. NOTE: Not ideal if the glossary texts will get MASSIVE with ton of DOM nodes (in that case we'd have to simply add an action to load the passages dynamically into tab-data, similarly as "show_journal_entry" action does in 1_1_game_ui.js */ /* <b>Xixian</b>: a person whose gender, experience of gender, or gender identity is not always strictly or exclusively male or female. The One-God is considered to be xixian. */ <</nobr>>

<<codex_menu>> <<nobr>> <<if settings.music is true>><<audio "pageturn" volume 0.5 play>><</if>><<set $journalholdertitle to "Tutorials">> <<set $navigationLinks to { tutorials: { tabKey: "tutorials", tabName: "TUTORIALS", tabLinks: [ {name: "Using Saves", passageTag: "Using_Saves"}, {name: "Using Hotkeys", passageTag: "Using_Hotkeys"}, {name: "Settings", passageTag: "Settings"}, {hideItem: hasVisited("prihine") is false, name: "Pronouns", passageTag: "Pronouns_Tutorial"}, {hideItem: hasVisited("meetcaine") is false, name: "Dialogue Tags", passageTag: "Dialogue_Tags"}, {hideItem: $heritagenote is false, name: "Race and Heritage", passageTag: "Race_and_Heritage"}, {hideItem: hasVisited("Profile") is false, name: "Understanding Stats", passageTag: "Understanding_Stats"}, ] }, }>> <<journal_holder $navigationLinks "documents-holder">> <</nobr>>

<center><b>Using Saves</b></center> The game automatically saves your progress at certain checkpoints. This autosave is always stored in the first slot of the <b>Saves</b> menu. You can manually save your game at any point by using any of the save slots listed in the <b>Saves</b> menu. By default, saves use an excerpt of your current page as their title, but you can rename them however you like. Note: However, certain browsers and environments don't like manual naming of saves. If you're having trouble using saves, try toggling 'Automatically name saves' in the <b>Settings</b> menu to ON. Saves displayed in the <b>Saves</b> menu are browser-reliant, meaning they store their data in your browser's cache. Clearing your browser cache or deleting your browser cookies will result in these saves being erased. Similarly, you will not be able to access your saves if you are using incognito mode. To keep backups of your saves; to utilize an unlimited number of saves; or to use your saves between different devices or browsers, you can select the option to <b>Download Saves</b> directly to your device. These saves will be downloaded to your device as individual files, and you can make as many as you want, as well as rename or organize them for your convenience: just be sure not to change the actual file type by leaving the suffix ".save" alone. You can then upload and play these saves by using the <b>Upload Save</b> button in the same <b>Saves</b> menu. The provided save slots are not available if you are using the itch.io <u>app</u> instead of the itch.io browser version. To create saves while using the app, you must use the <b>Download Save</b> function and save directly to your device instead.

<center><b>Using Hotkeys</b></center> While playing the game on desktop, hotkeys (otherwise known as keyboard shortcuts or keyboard commands) can be used to navigate the game. <span class="journallist"> * Press [SPACE BAR] to pull up or close the game's popup menu at the bottom of the screen. * Press [P] to pull up the profile screen. * Press [R] to pull up the relationships screen. * Press [C] to pull up the codex. * Press [G] to pull up the glossary. * Press [I] to pull up the inventory. * Press [J] to pull up the journal. * Press [A] to pull up the achievements. * Press [T] to pull up the tutorials. * Press [S] to pull up the save menu. * Press [M] to pull up the settings menu. * Press [X] in the menu screen to go back to a previous menu or to return to the main story. * Press [ESC] to close a popup window like the settings menu or the save menu. </span>

<center><b>Pronouns</b></center> Pronouns can be changed at any time by navigating to the <b><span class="entrylink">[[Profile]]</span></b> screen and clicking on the word <b>Pronouns</b>.

<center><b>Dialogue Tags and Action Indicators</b></center> Progress icons [<span class="fas fa-angle-right"></span>] are the standard icons for choices and usually indicate options that continue the story, either by advancing the conversation or initiating actions that progress the plot. Question icons [<span class="fas fa-question-circle"></span>] indicate dialogue that helps the player explore and understand the world and characters of Blest, usually by asking relevant questions or engaging in deeper discussions. These are usually purely informational and optional, but help flesh out details about Blest's culture, history, or other world-building or lore-related topics. They can be skipped by ending the conversation with a progress [<span class="fas fa-angle-right"></span>] choice, if desired. Speech icons [<span class="far fa-comment"></span>] are similar to question icons, but rather than questions that deepen one's knowledge of the world, these usually entail conversational or casual talk options that make gameplay feel natural and immersive, but are not strictly necessary to understanding the main plot. Like world-building questions, these options can be skipped by ending the conversation with a progress [<span class="fas fa-angle-right"></span>] choice, if desired. Hourglass icons [<span class="fas fa-hourglass-half"></span>] indicate activities that consume time during days off. Coin icons [<span class="fas fa-coins"></span>] indicate actions that cost gold. Heritage icons [<span class="fab fa-pagelines"></span>] indicate special dialogue options that are locked to specific heritages. Star icons [✧] indicates text that will cycle through different options when clicked. Heart icons [<span class="fas fa-heart"></span>] indicate explicitly romantic or sexual actions, such as confessing to someone, kissing them, spending the night with them, or entering into a committed relationship with them. <span class="journallist"><ul> <li>Please note that this differs from dialogue that is meant to be perceived as merely flirtatious, which is usually indicated with a [FLIRT] tone indicator. (Other tone indicators, including [LIE], [INNUENDO], [SARCASTIC], and others are also sometimes utilized for certain dialogue options for the sake of clarity.) While <b>romantic</b> [<span class="fas fa-heart"></span>] actions will always influence or catalyze the character's relationship to you in some way, not all characters will respond to <b>flirtatious</b> dialogue in ways that one might expect: some will respond positively, while others might dislike it or ignore it. While it is useful or sometimes even necessary in indicating interest towards some characters, using flirtatious dialogue is <i>not</i> always a guarantee to earning romance points, and may have no impact on a relationship at all. In short, romancing a character does not entail simply choosing every flirtatious dialogue option available for them: they each have their own preferences, personalities, and tastes. </li> <li>Flirtatious dialogue may also show up for characters that you are not necessarily interested in, or who may not be interested in you. This can be viewed as an option to roleplay as a flirtatious or provocative character, regardless of gender or sexuality, and it should not be thought as a mechanic that locks players in to a particular identity or romance. </li></ul></span>

<center><b>Settings</b></center> The "Royal" theme is the game's dark mode, with all of its visual embellishments and decorative stylings displayed as intended. The "Soldier" theme features the same dark colors, but visual embellishments are simplified and streamlined for a more straightforward reading experience. "Bard" is the game's light mode, with the same visual embellishments and decorative stylings as the "Royal" theme. "Scholar" is also a light mode and is similar to the "Soldier" theme, featuring a pared-down, text-heavy reading experience closer to the game's earliest iterations. For a classic reading experience, try "Scholar" mode with the font Georgia. By default, character art for the game is toggled off to respect players' desired reading experiences. If you'd like to enjoy character portraits in the Relationships screen and Character Guide, please toggle this setting on. Some changes may not take place until after the page is refreshed. For example, if you would like to toggle music off and music is currently playing, you may have to refresh the page to load the effect. From that point on, music will no longer play.

<center><b>Understanding Stats</b></center> <b>Magic</b>: a measure of your overall magical power and control, diversity in spell use, and knowledge of the arcane and supernatural. <b>Astral</b>: a subset of magical power, this marks your knowledge and strength in the astral use of magic—magic that governs and manipulates universal forces and energies. Battle-Mages, Healers, and Elementalists use primarily astral magic. <b>Psionic</b>: a subset of magical power, this marks your knowledge and strength in the psionic use of magic—magic that relies on mental control, willpower, and clarity of the mind. Enchanters, Wild-Mages, and Diviners use primarily psionic magic. <b>Arcane</b>: a subset of magical power, this marks your knowledge and strength in the arcane use of magic—magic that is wielded through esoteric rituals, archaic runes, and ancient spellwords. Conjurers, Binders, and Shifters use primarily arcane magic. <b>Physique</b>: a measure of your brute force and speed, physical stamina and dexterity, bodily agility and reflexes, and skill in melee combat, contests of strength, and weapons-fighting. <b>Nerves of Steel</b>: a measure of your courage, willpower, determination, selflessness, and leadership. Choices where you seize the moment, speak your mind, or willingly put yourself in harm's way can strengthen your nerves of steel; choices that favor self-preservation, cowardice, or deceit can weaken them. <b>Silver Tongue</b>: a measure of your charm, charisma, sociability, tactfulness, and persuasiveness. Choices where you read the room, attract others, phrase things diplomatically or delicately, or display emotional intelligence can sweeten your silver tongue; choices where you are blunt, insensitive, silent, or awkward can embitter it. <b>Bright Mind</b>: a measure of your intelligence, inquisitiveness, clarity, articulation, and wisdom. Choices where you ask scholarly questions, probe others for information, think deeply, or respond logically can polish your bright mind; choices where you are disinterested, ignorant, or unclear can dim it. <b>Razor Wits</b>: a measure of your cunning, perceptiveness, instincts, creativity, and self-preservation. Choices where you make observations, utilize quick thinking, act resourceful, or use cunning and caution can sharpen your razor wits; choices where you are clumsy, reckless, unperceptive, or slow to react can dull them. <b>Heart of Gold vs. Will of Iron</b>: Do you tend to be compassionate, merciful, generous, and kind-hearted—or are you more ruthless, hardened, intimidating, and fierce? <b>Soldier vs. Rebel</b>: Are you more of a loyal soldier who stands for order, cooperating with others and striving to fit in—or are you an independent lone wolf who breaks ranks and marches to the beat of their own drum, even if it means creating chaos? <b>Theist vs. Skeptic</b>: Do you believe in the gods or One-God, or is religion not a factor in your life at all?

<center><b>A Note Regarding Heritage</b></center> The world of Blest is occupied by many peoples and races, most of whom are collectively known as the Children of Light. Among the Children of Light, Mages and Mage-blooded persons are considered their own biologically-distinct group of people, as distinguished and recognizable as Elves or Norms: they are not a "class," but a race of people, often marked by their unusually-colored hair or faintly-glowing eyes, and possessing their own specific and unique cultures, beliefs, rituals, histories, and ways of life. You are biologically Mage-blooded, but were taken in and raised by a non-Mage community as an infant. Selecting your heritage will indicate what culture and community you were raised by and your specific origin story, but it does not change your physical race, which is predominantly Mage. Some heritages and origins do alter an aspect of your appearance, implying some measure of non-Mage ancestry: for example, selecting an Elvish heritage gives you half-pointed ears, or a Hunter heritage gives you a streak of white in your hair. However, this tiny percentage of non-Mage blood <b>only</b> manifests as a cosmetic difference; it does not have any effect on powers, racial abilities, or lifespan, regardless of which heritage is chosen, and it should be considered negligible in all areas except cosmetic. In other words, the base powers, abilities, and lifespan of your Mage character remains the same across all heritages, and such features are not impacted by any implied ancestry. Elf-raised characters do not live longer than other characters; Hunter-raised characters do not have the ability to hunt demons above those who were raised by Ket or Norms; Ket-raised characters do not possess arma, and et cetera. Whatever blood you may share with your adoptive community only impacts your appearance, if at all.

A bustling Norm city known for its horse-breeding, racing, and livestock. It's famous for its annual horse fair and is also the site of the famous Iron Court, one of the four main courts for the nobility of the Autarchy to assemble for their social season: the other courts reside in Ambryn, Courtshore, and Sacor. <<if $cainedead is false and $bothdead is false>>Caine Tavadon was raised here.<</if>>

A tiny Norm outpost on the frontier, governed by a gregarious mayor and populated with open-minded settlers. <<if $heritage is "Norm">> You were raised here.<</if>>

A vast marsh that stretches all the way to the peaks bordering the Reach, this swampy area is home to all manner of unpleasant things, from banshees to wild ghasts. <<if $part > 7>> It's said that the last of the Changelings may reside here. <</if>>

A once-prosperous farming town that was abandoned due to drought, this dusty settlement was taken over by Hunter refugees after their exile, along with other stragglers and pioneers. It's one of the last stops on the old King's Road before crossing into the unsettled West. <<if $heritage is "Hunter">> You were raised here. <</if>>

A small coastal fishing village founded by Ket mercenaries and their families after they fled a failed Uprising against the Autarchy. <<if $heritage is "Ket">> You were raised here. <</if>>

A hidden valley surrounded by an ancient forest. It is seldom penetrated by outsiders and is rumored to serve as the home base for several migratory Elven clans, who return to rest there once a year. <<if $heritage is "Elf">> You were raised here. <</if>>

The fortified compound housing the Order of the Shepherds. It sits in the sprawling base of an ancient Mage's tower, which was so well-protected by wards and spirits that it sat empty for centuries after the Mage's death. The upper part of the tower has seemingly fallen down in the intervening years, but the interior of the compound is capable of magically expanding to suit the needs of its current occupants. <<if $newspaperspent is false>><div class="btn" data-action-type="go_to_passage" data-type="newspaperintro" >READ THE NEWSPAPER</div><</if>> <div class="btn" data-action-type="go_to_passage" data-type="room" >VISIT YOUR ROOM</div> <<if ($easymode is true and $magictime < 2) or ($easymode is false and $magicspent is false)>><div class="btn" data-action-type="go_to_passage" data-type="magic" >STUDY MAGIC</div><</if>> <<if ($easymode is true and $strengthtime < 2) or ($easymode is false and $strengthspent is false)>><div class="btn" data-action-type="go_to_passage" data-type="strength" >TRAIN STRENGTH</div><</if>> <<if $rank is "Commander" and $commanderspent is false>><div class="btn" data-action-type="go_to_passage" data-type="command" >REVIEW COMMANDER DUTIES</div><</if>> <div class="btn" data-action-type="go_to_passage" data-type="rest" >REST UNTIL END OF DAY</div>

The large green attached to the Shepherds' compound is a perfect place to train, even in the middle of the city. <<if $recruitspent is false and $rank is "Captain">><div class="btn" data-action-type="go_to_passage" data-type="training" >TRAIN YOUR RECRUITS</div><</if>> <<if $bladespent is false and $bladetime is 0>><div class="btn" data-action-type="go_to_passage" data-type="blade" >SPEND TIME WITH BLADE</div><<set _someonehere to true>><</if>> <<if $bladespent is false and $bladetime is 3>><div class="btn" data-action-type="go_to_passage" data-type="blade" >SPEND TIME WITH BLADE</div><<set _someonehere to true>><</if>> <<if $tallysspent is false and $tallystime is 2>><div class="btn" data-action-type="go_to_passage" data-type="tallys" >SPEND TIME WITH TALLYS</div><<set _someonehere to true>><</if>> <<if $brionyspent is false and $brionytime is 0 and $brionyjoin is true>><div class="btn" data-action-type="go_to_passage" data-type="briony" >SPEND TIME WITH BRIONY</div><<set _someonehere to true>><</if>> <<if $lavinetspent is false and $lavinettime is 0 and $lavinetjoin is true>><div class="btn" data-action-type="go_to_passage" data-type="lavinet" >SPEND TIME WITH LAVINET</div><<set _someonehere to true>><</if>>

<<if $gambling is false>>This location is currently locked. <<else>> A lively, winding alleyway dedicated to backstreet gambling and games of chance. Although it leads to more luxurious gambling dens and casinos, the Golden Way remains the outdoor hotspot for Haven's lovers of fortune. <<if $gamblingspent is false>><div class="btn" data-action-type="go_to_passage" data-type="gambling" >GAMBLE</div> <</if>><</if>>

A large and unusual store in the Market Quarter that offers discounts for Shepherd officers. It's run by a character who dresses up as a clown. <div class="btn" data-action-type="go_to_passage" data-type="chandry" >SHOP</div>

There's no clause in your contract that prevents you from taking odd jobs for extra gold, so long as it doesn't interfere with your duties. However, your pay from these jobs will vary. <<if $parttimespent is false>><div class="btn" data-action-type="go_to_passage" data-type="parttime" >WORK ODD JOBS</div><</if>>

<<if $belief is "oldfaith">> Word has reached your ears about a secret shrine to the old gods around here. <<elseif $belief is "one-god">> Ashtown's Church of the One-God seems a bit ramshackle on the outside, but beloved and well-kempt. <<else>> There are plenty of places scattered throughout the city for a person to pray and pay respects to their faith, should they feel the need to. <</if>> <<if $prayspent is false>><div class="btn" data-action-type="go_to_passage" data-type="pray" >PRAY</div><</if>>

<<if $queststart is true>> This wooden bulletin board has become a popular place for posting and accepting requests, job offers, and miscellaneous assignments. <div class="btn" data-action-type="go_to_passage" data-type="Quests" >CHECK QUEST BOARD</div> <<else>> This location is currently locked. <</if>>

<<set _someonehere to false>> <<if $troublespent is false and $troubletime is 3>><div class="btn" data-action-type="go_to_pass age" data-type="trouble" >SPEND TIME WITH TROUBLE</div><<set _someonehere to true>><</if>> <<if $tallysspent is false and $tallystime is 1>><div class="btn" data-action-type="go_to_passage" data-type="tallys" >SPEND TIME WITH TALLYS</div><<set _someonehere to true>><</if>> <<if $sheryspent is false and $sherytime is 0>><div class="btn" data-action-type="go_to_passage" data-type="shery" >SPEND TIME WITH SHERY</div><<set _someonehere to true>><</if>> <<if $sheryspent is false and $sherytime is 1>><div class="btn" data-action-type="go_to_passage" data-type="shery" >SPEND TIME WITH SHERY</div><<set _someonehere to true>><</if>> <<if $sheryspent is false and $sherytime is 2>><div class="btn" data-action-type="go_to_passage" data-type="shery" >SPEND TIME WITH SHERY</div><<set _someonehere to true>><</if>> <<if $sheryspent is false and $sherytime is 3>><div class="btn" data-action-type="go_to_passage" data-type="shery" >SPEND TIME WITH SHERY</div><<set _someonehere to true>><</if>> <<if $sheryspent is false and $sherytime is 4>><div class="btn" data-action-type="go_to_passage" data-type="shery" >SPEND TIME WITH SHERY</div><<set _someonehere to true>><</if>> <<if $rielspent is false and $rieltime is 0 and $rieljoin is true>><div class="btn" data-action-type="go_to_passage" data-type="riel" >SPEND TIME WITH RIEL</div><<set _someonehere to true>><</if>> <<if $redspent is false and $redtime is 0 and $redjoin is true>><div class="btn" data-action-type="go_to_passage" data-type="red" >SPEND TIME WITH RED</div><<set _someonehere to true>><</if>> <<if $redspent is false and $redtime is 2 and $redjoin is true>><div class="btn" data-action-type="go_to_passage" data-type="red" >SPEND TIME WITH RED</div><<set _someonehere to true>><</if>> <<if $redspend is false and $redtime is 3 and $redjoin is true>><div class="btn" data-action-type="go_to_passage" data-type="red" >SPEND TIME WITH RED</div><<set _someonehere to true>><</if>> <<if $aylaspent is false and $aylatime is 0 and $aylajoin is true>><div class="btn" data-action-type="go_to_passage" data-type="ayla" >SPEND TIME WITH AYLA</div><<set _someonehere to true>><</if>> <<if $mimirspent is false and $mimirjoin is true>><div class="btn" data-action-type="go_to_passage" data-type="mimir" >SPEND TIME WITH MIMIR</div><<set _someonehere to true>><</if>> <<if $cainespent is false and $cainejoin is true and $cainetime is 1>><div class="btn" data-action-type="go_to_passage" data-type="caine" >SPEND TIME WITH CAINE</div><<set _someonehere to true>><</if>> <<if $cainespent is false and $cainetime is 3 and $cainejoin is true>><div class="btn" data-action-type="go_to_passage" data-type="caine" >SPEND TIME WITH CAINE</div><<set _someonehere to true>><</if>> <<if _someonehere is false>>None of your companions are currently here.<</if>>

<<set _someonehere to false>> <<if $bladespent is false and $bladetime is 1>><div class="btn" data-action-type="go_to_passage" data-type="blade" >SPEND TIME WITH BLADE</div><<set _someonehere to true>><</if>> <<if $troublespent is false and $troubletime is 0>><div class="btn" data-action-type="go_to_passage" data-type="trouble" >SPEND TIME WITH TROUBLE</div><<set _someonehere to true>><</if>> <<if $troublespent is false and $troubletime is 4>><div class="btn" data-action-type="go_to_passage" data-type="trouble" >SPEND TIME WITH TROUBLE</div><<set _someonehere to true>><</if>> <<if $tallysspent is false and $tallystime is 2>><div class="btn" data-action-type="go_to_passage" data-type="tallys" >SPEND TIME WITH TALLYS</div><<set _someonehere to true>><</if>> <<if $chasespent is false and $chasetime is 0 and $chasejoin is true>><div class="btn" data-action-type="go_to_passage" data-type="chase" >SPEND TIME WITH CHASE</div><<set _someonehere to true>><</if>> <<if $rielspent is false and $rieltime is 2 and $rieljoin is true>><div class="btn" data-action-type="go_to_passage" data-type="riel" >SPEND TIME WITH RIEL</div><<set _someonehere to true>><</if>> <<if $aylaspent is false and $aylatime is 1 and $aylajoin is true>><div class="btn" data-action-type="go_to_passage" data-type="ayla" >SPEND TIME WITH AYLA</div><<set _someonehere to true>><</if>> <<if $halekspent is false and $halektime is 1 and $halekjoin is true>><div class="btn" data-action-type="go_to_passage" data-type="halek" >SPEND TIME WITH HALEK</div><<set _someonehere to true>><</if>> <<if $brionyspent is false and $brionytime is 1 and $brionyjoin is true>><div class="btn" data-action-type="go_to_passage" data-type="briony" >SPEND TIME WITH BRIONY</div><<set _someonehere to true>><</if>> <<if $cainespent is false and $cainetime is 0 and $cainejoin is true>><div class="btn" data-action-type="go_to_passage" data-type="caine" >SPEND TIME WITH CAINE</div><<set _someonehere to true>><</if>> <<if $cainespent is false and $cainetime is 2 and $cainejoin is true>><div class="btn" data-action-type="go_to_passage" data-type="caine" >SPEND TIME WITH CAINE</div><<set _someonehere to true>><</if>> <<if _someonehere is false>>None of your companions are currently here.<</if>>

<<set _someonehere to false>> <<if $bladespent is false and $bladetime is 4>><div class="btn" data-action-type="go_to_passage" data-type="blade" >SPEND TIME WITH BLADE</div><<set _someonehere to true>><</if>> <<if $troublespent is false and $troubletime is 1>><div class="btn" data-action-type="go_to_passage" data-type="trouble" >SPEND TIME WITH TROUBLE</div><<set _someonehere to true>><</if>> <<if $troublespent is false and $troubletime is 2>><div class="btn" data-action-type="go_to_passage" data-type="trouble" >SPEND TIME WITH TROUBLE</div><<set _someonehere to true>><</if>> <<if $troublespent is false and $troubletime is 5>><div class="btn" data-action-type="go_to_passage" data-type="trouble" >SPEND TIME WITH TROUBLE</div><<set _someonehere to true>><</if>> <<if $chasespent is false and $chasetime is 2 and $chasejoin is true>><div class="btn" data-action-type="go_to_passage" data-type="chase" >SPEND TIME WITH CHASE</div><<set _someonehere to true>><</if>> <<if _someonehere is false>>None of your companions are currently here.<</if>>

<<set _someonehere to false>> <<if $bladespent is false and $bladetime is 2>><div class="btn" data-action-type="go_to_passage" data-type="blade" >SPEND TIME WITH BLADE</div><<set _someonehere to true>><</if>> <<if $chasespent is false and $chasetime is 1 and $chasejoin is true>><div class="btn" data-action-type="go_to_passage" data-type="chase" >SPEND TIME WITH CHASE</div><<set _someonehere to true>><</if>> <<if $chasespent is false and $chasetime is 3 and $chasejoin is true>><div class="btn" data-action-type="go_to_passage" data-type="chase" >SPEND TIME WITH CHASE</div><<set _someonehere to true>><</if>> <<if $redspent is false and $redtime is 1 and $redjoin is true>><div class="btn" data-action-type="go_to_passage" data-type="red" >SPEND TIME WITH RED</div><<set _someonehere to true>><</if>> <<if $aylaspent is false and $aylatime is 2 and $aylajoin is true>><div class="btn" data-action-type="go_to_passage" data-type="ayla" >SPEND TIME WITH AYLA</div><<set _someonehere to true>><</if>> <<if $halekspent is false and $halektime is 0 and $halekjoin is true>><div class="btn" data-action-type="go_to_passage" data-type="halek" >SPEND TIME WITH HALEK</div><<set _someonehere to true>><</if>> <<if _someonehere is false>>None of your companions are currently here.<</if>>

<<set _someonehere to false>> <<if $rielspent is false and $rieltime is 1 and $rieljoin is true>><div class="btn" data-action-type="go_to_passage" data-type="riel" >SPEND TIME WITH RIEL</div><<set _someonehere to true>><</if>> <<if $chasespent is false and $chasetime is 4 and $chasejoin is true>><div class="btn" data-action-type="go_to_passage" data-type="chase" >SPEND TIME WITH CHASE</div><<set _someonehere to true>><</if>> <<if $lavinetspent is false and $lavinettime is 1 and $lavinetjoin is true>><div class="btn" data-action-type="go_to_passage" data-type="lavinet" >SPEND TIME WITH LAVINET</div><<set _someonehere to true>><</if>> <<if _someonehere is false>>None of your companions are currently here.<</if>>

<<set _someonehere to false>> <<if $tallysspent is false and $tallystime is 0>><div class="btn" data-action-type="go_to_passage" data-type="tallys" >SPEND TIME WITH TALLYS</div><<set _someonehere to true>><</if>> <<if $bladespent is false and $bladetime is 5>><div class="btn" data-action-type="go_to_passage" data-type="blade" >SPEND TIME WITH BLADE</div><<set _someonehere to true>><</if>> <<if _someonehere is false>>None of your companions are currently here.<</if>> /* buttons adding +2 to dayoff, specialized training, */

/* We can conveniently store any map configs in variables_maps.twee, for cleaner code & easier reuse, then simply call then as below: */ /* TODO Lena feel free to delete these if no longer needed various examples of opening a fullscreen map, with an data-action-type="open_map_fullscreen" attribute */      <<codex_menu>>  <<ribbon_banner "Maps" "" "">> <div class="box">  <div class="card-item"> <center> <div class="cardoverlay"> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/mapcardlet.png" alt="The Continent of Blest" class="card"> <div class="cardtransition"> <div class="cardlink" data-action-type="open_map_fullscreen" data-type="world_map_fullscreen">The Continent of Blest</div> </div> </div> <span class="cardname">The Continent of Blest</span> </center> </div>  <div class="card-item"> <center> <div class="cardoverlay"> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/mapcardlet.png" alt="The City of Haven" class="card"> <div class="cardtransition"> <div class="cardlink"><<if $havenmap is true>><<link 'The City of Haven'>><<popover>><center><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/maps/havenmap.jpg" alt="The City of Haven" width="100%" class="map"></center><</popover>><</link>><<else>>Locked<</if>> </div> </div> </div> <span class="cardname">The City of Haven</span> </center> </div> /*<div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/mapcardlet.png" alt="The City of Haven (Overhead View)" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<if $havenmap is true>><<link 'The Tiers of Haven'>><<popover>><center><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/maps/haventiers.jpg" alt="The City of Haven (Overhead View)" width="100%" class="map"></center><</popover>><</link>><<else>>Locked<</if>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">The Tiers of Haven</span></center></div>*/ <div class="card-item"> <center> <div class="cardoverlay"> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/mapcardlet.png" alt="Blueprint of the Shepherds' Headquarters" class="card"> <div class="cardtransition"> <div class="cardlink"> <<if $blueprint1 is true>> <<link 'The Order of the Shepherds'>> <<popover>> <center> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/maps/compoundmap.jpg" alt="Blueprint of the Shepherds' Headquarters" width="150%" class="map"> </center> <</popover>> <</link>> <<else>>Locked<</if>> </div> </div> </div> <span class="cardname">The Order of the Shepherds</span> </center> </div> <div class="card-item"> <center> <div class="cardoverlay"> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/mapcardlet.png" alt="Fourth Floor of the Shepherds Compound" class="card"> <div class="cardtransition"> <<if $mimirjoin is true>><div class="cardlink" data-action-type="open_map_fullscreen" data-type="fourthfloor_fullscreen">Shepherd Headquarters: Fourth Floor</div> <<else>><div class="cardlink">Locked</div><</if>> </div> </div> <span class="cardname">Fourth Floor of the Shepherds Compound</span> </center> </div> /* <div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/mapcardlet.png" alt="Fourth Floor of the Shepherds Compound" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<if $blueprint1 is true>><<link 'Shepherd Headquarters: Fourth Floor'>><<popover>><center><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/maps/fourthfloor.png" alt="Fourth Floor of the Shepherds' Compound" width="150%" class="map"></center><</popover>><</link>><<else>>Locked<</if>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">Fourth Floor of the Shepherds' Compound</span></center></div> */ /*<div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/mapcardlet.png" alt="Fourth Floor of the Shepherds' Compound (Room Assignments)" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<if $mimirjoin is true>><<link 'Fourth Floor Room Assignments'>><<popover>><center><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/maps/fourthfloorpixels.jpg" alt="Fourth Floor of the Shepherds' Compound (Room Assignments)" width="150%" class="map"></center><</popover>><</link>><<else>>Locked<</if>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">Fourth Floor Room Assignments</span></center></div>*/ </div>

<<profile_menu>> <<nobr>> <div class="title-container"> <div class="title">Achievements</div> <div class ="achievement-desc">You have unlocked <b><<print recall("numberofachievements", 0)>></b> out of <b>100</b> achievements. </div> </div> <div class="achievements-list"> <<if recall("achieve_hapless") is true>><<achievement_badge "NOT THE GLITTERING WEAPON" "Put yourself in harm's way to save another.">> <<else>> <<achievement_badge_locked "<i class=\"fas fa-lock\"></i>" "">> <</if>> <<if recall("achieve_firstimpressions") is true>><<achievement_badge "THE WOLF TRIUMPHANT" "Made a good first impression on the Shepherds.">> <<else>> <<achievement_badge_locked "<i class=\"fas fa-lock\"></i>" "">> <</if>> <<if recall("achieve_conscripted")>><<achievement_badge "A LEASHED DOG" "Had to be conscripted into the Shepherds' Order to protect yourself from the law.">> <<else>> <<achievement_badge_locked "<i class=\"fas fa-lock\"></i>" "">> <</if>> <<if recall ("achieve_restraint")>><<achievement_badge "I'LL PAY THY TOLL" "Prevented Trouble from confronting the Equalists with guns blazing. ">> <<else>> <<achievement_badge_locked "<i class=\"fas fa-lock\"></i>" "">> <</if>> <<if recall ("achieve_troubledpast")>><<achievement_badge "TROUBLED PAST" "Allowed Trouble to exact his blood revenge.">> <<else>> <<achievement_badge_locked "<i class=\"fas fa-lock\"></i>" "">> <</if>> <<if recall ("achieve_exterminator")>><<achievement_badge "EXTERMINATOR" "Exterminated the children from the Equalist compound to avoid a demon infestation.">> <<else>> <<achievement_badge_locked "<i class=\"fas fa-lock\"></i>" "">> <</if>> <<if recall ("achieve_savior")>><<achievement_badge "GOLDEN EYES" "Successfully freed the victims of the Equalists, and saved the soul of the little girl Rika.">> <<else>> <<achievement_badge_locked "<i class=\"fas fa-lock\"></i>" "">> <</if>> <<if recall ("achieve_blaphemel")>><<achievement_badge "THE FIRST FACELESS LORD" "Destroyed Blaphemel, the Seducer, and eradicated its cult.">> <<else>> <<achievement_badge_locked "<i class=\"fas fa-lock\"></i>" "">> <</if>> <<if recall ("achieve_caine")>><<achievement_badge "RAISING CAINE" "Got Caine an apprenticeship with the Shepherds.">> <<else>> <<achievement_badge_locked "<i class=\"fas fa-lock\"></i>" "">> <</if>> <<if recall ("achieve_nobystander")>><<achievement_badge "VOX POPULI" "Interceded in the bar with Tallys and the Inquisitors, saving a life.">> <<else>> <<achievement_badge_locked "<i class=\"fas fa-lock\"></i>" "">> <</if>> <<if recall ("achieve_chrysalis")>><<achievement_badge "AMETABOLOUS" "Successfully passed the Inquisitors' test.">> <<else>> <<achievement_badge_locked "<i class=\"fas fa-lock\"></i>" "">> <</if>> <<if recall ("achieve_watcher")>><<achievement_badge "WATCHER" "Had Croelle save you from the Inquisitors.">> <<else>> <<achievement_badge_locked "<i class=\"fas fa-lock\"></i>" "">> <</if>> <<if recall ("achieve_eclipse")>><<achievement_badge "ECLIPSE" "Uncovered the true nature of Black Sun.">> <<else>> <<achievement_badge_locked "<i class=\"fas fa-lock\"></i>" "">> <</if>> <<if recall ("achieve_partycrasher")>><<achievement_badge "PARTY CRASHER" "Infiltrated the Trade Minister's mansion and put a stop to his plans to spread Black Sun.">> <<else>> <<achievement_badge_locked "<i class=\"fas fa-lock\"></i>" "">> <</if>> <<if recall ("achieve_guerillawarfare")>><<achievement_badge "GUERILLA WARFARE" "Raided the Black Sun factory and blew up the supply of the drug.">> <<else>> <<achievement_badge_locked "<i class=\"fas fa-lock\"></i>" "">> <</if>> <<if recall ("achieve_devourer")>><<achievement_badge "THE SECOND FACELESS LORD" "Destroyed Clochus, the Devourer, and its Black Sun.">> <<else>> <<achievement_badge_locked "<i class=\"fas fa-lock\"></i>" "">> <</if>> <<if recall ("achieve_chasejoin")>><<achievement_badge "THE THIEF LORD" "Recruited Chase, the leader of the Thieves Guild.">> <<else>> <<achievement_badge_locked "<i class=\"fas fa-lock\"></i>" "">> <</if>> <<if recall ("achieve_rieljoin")>><<achievement_badge "THE MERCHANT PRINCE" "Recruited Riel, the leader of the Merchants Guild.">> <<else>> <<achievement_badge_locked "<i class=\"fas fa-lock\"></i>" "">> <</if>> <<if recall ("achieve_prihine")>><<achievement_badge "PRETTY AND PRIHINE" "Spent a night with Prihine Naveen.">> <<else>> <<achievement_badge_locked "<i class=\"fas fa-lock\"></i>" "">> <</if>> <<if recall ("achieve_sleep")>><<achievement_badge "TO SLEEP, PERCHANCE TO DREAM" "Successfully broke out of Quiial's nightmarish illusion.">> <<else>> <<achievement_badge_locked "<i class=\"fas fa-lock\"></i>" "">> <</if>> <<if recall ("achieve_nightmare")>><<achievement_badge "THE THIRD FACELESS LORD" "Destroyed Quiial, the Dream-Eater, and freed Capra.">> <<else>> <<achievement_badge_locked "<i class=\"fas fa-lock\"></i>" "">> <</if>> <<if recall ("achieve_possessed")>><<achievement_badge "THE STUFF OF NIGHTMARES" "Became possessed by the Nightmare Demon, Quiial.">> <<else>> <<achievement_badge_locked "<i class=\"fas fa-lock\"></i>" "">> <</if>> <<if recall ("achieve_red")>><<achievement_badge "ROADS NOT TAKEN" "Recruited Red, leader of the Veiled Circle of Capra.">> <<else>> <<achievement_badge_locked "<i class=\"fas fa-lock\"></i>" "">> <</if>> <<if recall ("achieve_ayla")>><<achievement_badge "THE WIND BLOWS WHERE IT MAY" "Recruited Ayla, the nomadic Wind-Mage.">> <<else>> <<achievement_badge_locked "<i class=\"fas fa-lock\"></i>" "">> <</if>> <<if recall ("achieve_flood")>><<achievement_badge "THE FLOOD" "Inadvertently rid the Reach of a Faceless Lord.">> <<else>> <<achievement_badge_locked "<i class=\"fas fa-lock\"></i>" "">> <</if>> <<if recall ("achieve_mercy")>><<achievement_badge "MERCY IS TWICE BLESSED" "Spared Mekduk's life by confronting Buubas yourself.">> <<else>> <<achievement_badge_locked "<i class=\"fas fa-lock\"></i>" "">> <</if>> <<if recall ("achieve_quick")>><<achievement_badge "QUICK AND TO THE POINT" "Killed both Mekduk and the Plague Demon in a flood.">> <<else>> <<achievement_badge_locked "<i class=\"fas fa-lock\"></i>" "">> <</if>> <<if recall ("achieve_cure")>><<achievement_badge "A PSALM FOR THE SICK" "Saved the sick Hunters by successfully bringing them the lachryma.">> <<else>> <<achievement_badge_locked "<i class=\"fas fa-lock\"></i>" "">> <</if>> <<if recall ("achieve_medicinal")>><<achievement_badge "THE FOURTH FACELESS LORD" "Slew Buubas, the Plague-Bringer, and saved the Reach.">> <<else>> <<achievement_badge_locked "<i class=\"fas fa-lock\"></i>" "">> <</if>> <<if recall ("achieve_halek")>><<achievement_badge "ABOVE ALL, THE HUNT" "Recruited Halek, chieftain of the Hunters.">> <<else>> <<achievement_badge_locked "<i class=\"fas fa-lock\"></i>" "">> <</if>> <<if recall ("achieve_vartageth")>><<achievement_badge "TO THE LAST GASP" "Discovered the fate of Archmage Tangriel and gave Vivek closure.">> <<else>> <<achievement_badge_locked "<i class=\"fas fa-lock\"></i>" "">> <</if>> <<if recall ("achieve_beatbriony")>><<achievement_badge "DEADLIEST WARRIOR" "Defeated Briony Stormbreaker in single combat.">> <<else>> <<achievement_badge_locked "<i class=\"fas fa-lock\"></i>" "">> <</if>> <<if recall ("achieve_beatwyvern")>><<achievement_badge "DRAGONSLAYER" "Killed a wyvern in gladiator combat.">> <<else>> <<achievement_badge_locked "<i class=\"fas fa-lock\"></i>" "">> <</if>> <<if recall ("achieve_slaygurl")>><<achievement_badge "IF LOOKS COULD KILL" "Earned enough winnings to dress up for your big dinner with the Sponsor.">> <<else>> <<achievement_badge_locked "<i class=\"fas fa-lock\"></i>" "">> <</if>> <<if recall ("achieve_killtovrik")>><<achievement_badge "THE ODDS WERE NOT IN YOUR FAVOR" "The Scales of Fate tipped against Tovrik, and he was killed.">> <<else>> <<achievement_badge_locked "<i class=\"fas fa-lock\"></i>" "">> <</if>> <<if recall ("achieve_sparetovrik")>><<achievement_badge "MAY THE ODDS BE IN YOUR FAVOR" "The Scales of Fate were merciful to Tovrik, sparing him.">> <<else>> <<achievement_badge_locked "<i class=\"fas fa-lock\"></i>" "">> <</if>> <<if recall ("achieve_blooddrinker")>><<achievement_badge "THE FIFTH FACELESS LORD" "Destroyed Jarkyth, the Blood-Drinker, and ended its butchery.">> <<else>> <<achievement_badge_locked "<i class=\"fas fa-lock\"></i>" "">> <</if>> <<if recall ("achieve_hierophantsmercy")>><<achievement_badge "SOUL OF SAINT CECILY" "Spared the Western Hierophant, one of the most powerful people on the Continent.">> <<else>> <<achievement_badge_locked "<i class=\"fas fa-lock\"></i>" "">> <</if>> <<if recall ("achieve_hierophantsfavor")>><<achievement_badge "THE HIEROPHANT\'S REGARD" "Gained the Western Hierophant as a potential ally.">> <<else>> <<achievement_badge_locked "<i class=\"fas fa-lock\"></i>" "">> <</if>> <<if recall ("achieve_hierophantskiller")>><<achievement_badge "TERMINARCH" "Killed one of the most powerful people on the Continent: the Western Hierophant.">> <<else>> <<achievement_badge_locked "<i class=\"fas fa-lock\"></i>" "">> <</if>> <<if recall ("achieve_orderaboveall")>><<achievement_badge "ORDER ABOVE ALL" "Kept the peace by hiding the truth about the Church and its ties with the Endarkened.">> <<else>> <<achievement_badge_locked "<i class=\"fas fa-lock\"></i>" "">> <</if>> <<if recall ("achieve_truthteller")>><<achievement_badge "HERALD OF TRUTH" "Spread the truth about the Church and its ties with the Endarkened.">> <<else>> <<achievement_badge_locked "<i class=\"fas fa-lock\"></i>" "">> <</if>> <<if recall ("achieve_briony")>><<achievement_badge "STORMBREAKER" "Recruited Briony, Diminished gladiator and champion of the arena.">> <<else>> <<achievement_badge_locked "<i class=\"fas fa-lock\"></i>" "">> <</if>> <<if recall ("achieve_freenathe")>><<achievement_badge "MAN OVER MISSION" "Allowed Nathe to live and return home to his family.">> <<else>> <<achievement_badge_locked "<i class=\"fas fa-lock\"></i>" "">> <</if>> <<if recall ("achieve_burningman")>><<achievement_badge "BURNING MAN" "Earned the respect of the Elemental Flameling, Angant Hainn.">> <<else>> <<achievement_badge_locked "<i class=\"fas fa-lock\"></i>" "">> <</if>> <<if recall ("achieve_spiritedaway")>><<achievement_badge "SPIRITED AWAY" "Successfully snuck Lavinet out to see the Elder Council.">> <<else>> <<achievement_badge_locked "<i class=\"fas fa-lock\"></i>" "">> <</if>> <<if recall ("achieve_unity")>><<achievement_badge "KNOW NOT WHAT WE MAY BE" "Convinced the Elementals and the Norms to live in harmony.">> <<else>> <<achievement_badge_locked "<i class=\"fas fa-lock\"></i>" "">> <</if>> <<if recall ("achieve_fromashes")>><<achievement_badge "FROM ASHES" "Restored the Landsmeet and the Elementals back to their former glory.">> <<else>> <<achievement_badge_locked "<i class=\"fas fa-lock\"></i>" "">> <</if>> <<if recall ("achieve_noblessoblige")>><<achievement_badge "NOBLESSE OBLIGE" "Recruited the powerful noblewoman and chevalier Lavinet Naveen.">> <<else>> <<achievement_badge_locked "<i class=\"fas fa-lock\"></i>" "">> <</if>> <<if recall ("achieve_swamp")>><<achievement_badge "SECRETS OF THE SWAMP" "Uncovered the ugly truths hidden in Wallmire.">> <<else>> <<achievement_badge_locked "<i class=\"fas fa-lock\"></i>" "">> <</if>> <<if recall ("achieve_wolfinsheep")>><<achievement_badge "WOLF IN SHEEP\'S CLOTHING" "Caught the Terror in disguise before he could harm you.">> <<else>> <<achievement_badge_locked "<i class=\"fas fa-lock\"></i>" "">> <</if>> <<if recall ("achieve_capgras")>><<achievement_badge "CAPGRAS" "Broke free of Thurl's hold and defeated him single-handedly.">> <<else>> <<achievement_badge_locked "<i class=\"fas fa-lock\"></i>" "">> <</if>> <<if recall ("achieve_asag")>><<achievement_badge "SILENCE IS GOLDEN" "Destroyed all of the Asag in the area.">> <<else>> <<achievement_badge_locked "<i class=\"fas fa-lock\"></i>" "">> <</if>> <<if recall ("achieve_mimirjoin")>><<achievement_badge "SISTER OF THE SILVER EYE" "Recruited the mysterious Seer of the future, Mimir Esthin.">> <<else>> <<achievement_badge_locked "<i class=\"fas fa-lock\"></i>" "">> <</if>> <<if recall ("achieve_changelingjoin")>><<achievement_badge "FAIRY-BORN AND HUMAN-BRED" "Persuaded the Changelings to one day rejoin the world again.">> <<else>> <<achievement_badge_locked "<i class=\"fas fa-lock\"></i>" "">> <</if>> <<if recall ("achieve_cypher")>><<achievement_badge "LEX ARCANA" "Solved the cypher unlocking Haven's ancient magic.">> <<else>> <<achievement_badge_locked "<i class=\"fas fa-lock\"></i>" "">> <</if>> <<if recall ("achieve_towerexit")>><<achievement_badge "CHAMPION OF THE LABYRINTH" "Successfully left the labyrinth using Senua's secret exit.">> <<else>> <<achievement_badge_locked "<i class=\"fas fa-lock\"></i>" "">> <</if>> <<if recall ("achieve_towermaster")>><<achievement_badge "TOWER MASTER" "Passed all of the trials of the Crystal Tournament with the best results possible.">> <<else>> <<achievement_badge_locked "<i class=\"fas fa-lock\"></i>" "">> <</if>> <<if recall ("achieve_landsense")>><<achievement_badge "THE SONG OF THE REALM" "Obtained the landsense, a connection to the land itself.">> <<else>> <<achievement_badge_locked "<i class=\"fas fa-lock\"></i>" "">> <</if>> <<if recall ("achieve_elfjoin")>><<achievement_badge "THE ELVES OF ASHTOWN" "Earned the alliance of the Elven people.">> <<else>> <<achievement_badge_locked "<i class=\"fas fa-lock\"></i>" "">> <</if>> <<if recall ("achieve_cardcaptor")>><<achievement_badge "GOTTA COLLECT \'EM ALL" "Completely filled your album of Rangers of Blest trading cards.">> <<else>> <<achievement_badge_locked "<i class=\"fas fa-lock\"></i>" "">> <</if>> <<achievement_badge_locked "<i class=\"fas fa-lock\"></i>" "">> <<achievement_badge_locked "<i class=\"fas fa-lock\"></i>" "">> /* <<achievement_badge_locked "LOCKED" "You have not unlocked this achievement.">> */ </div> <</nobr>>

<<profile_menu>> <<nobr>> <<if settings.music is true>><<audio "inventory" volume 0.2 play>><</if>> <<if $healthpotionnumber == 0>><<set $healthpotion to false>><</if>> <<set $inventoryTabsData to { weapons: { tabKey: "weapons", tabName: "WEAPONS", items: [ {hideItem: $basicsword is false, name: "GREY IRON SWORD", desc: "A STANDARD MERCENARY'S SWORD. ITS METAL IS DULL BUT DURABLE.", hasIcon: 'sword'}, {hideItem: $basicdagger is false, name: "SIMPLE DAGGER", desc: "A DAGGER WITH A SIMPLE HILT. IT'S A BIT BATTERED, BUT VERY SHARP.", hasIcon: 'knife'}, {hideItem: $basicbow is false, name: "BATTERED BOW AND QUIVER", desc: "A WELL-WORN BOW. IT'S OLD, BUT THE STRING PULLS JUST THE WAY YOU LIKE IT.", hasIcon: 'bow'}, {hideItem: $basicgun is false, name: "TWO-SHOT REVOLVER", desc: "A COMMON TYPE OF GUN FOR MERCENARIES. YOU SAVED FOR MONTHS TO BUY IT.", hasIcon: 'gun'}, {hideItem: $standardsword is false, name: "STEEL SWORD", desc: "A BRIGHT, KEEN-EDGED STRAIGHT SWORD WITH A HILT WRAPPED IN WIRE.", hasIcon: 'sword'}, {hideItem: $standardbow is false, name: "YEW BOW WITH LEATHER QUIVER", desc: "A WELL-OILED LONGBOW WITH A POWERFUL DRAW.", hasIcon: 'bow'}, {hideItem: $standardgun is false, name: "ARMY-ISSUED PISTOL", desc: "A SLENDER MILITARY PISTOL CAPABLE OF HOLDING TEN ROUNDS IN ITS CHAMBER.", hasIcon: 'gun'}, {hideItem: $standarddagger is false, name: "CORSAIR DAGGER", desc: "A WICKED, CURVED, GOLD-HILTED DAGGER FROM THE SESZ ISLES.", hasIcon: 'knife'}, {hideItem: $premiumsword is false, name: "KET WARRIOR SWORD", desc: "A NIGH-UNBREAKABLE STRAIGHT SWORD MADE OF PITCH-BLACK STEEL, LINED WITH A RAZOR-SHARP BLUE EDGE. A MASTERWORK OF KET METALSMITHING.", hasIcon: 'sword'}, {hideItem: $premiumbow is false, name: "ELVEN SUNTREE BOW", desc: "AN ELVEN BOW FASHIONED FROM THE ANCIENT SUNTREES OF SHYRDUIN. IT FEELS AS LIGHT AS A CLOUD AND BOOSTS ACCURACY AS WELL AS RATE OF FIRE.", hasIcon: 'bow'}, {hideItem: $premiumdagger is false, name: "EXORCIST'S CLEANSING DAGGER", desc: "A HUNTER BLADE BLESSED BY PRIESTS. SAID TO BE IMMUNE TO CURSES AND DEMONIC INFECTION.", hasIcon: 'knife'}, {hideItem: $premiumgun is false, name: "NOBLE'S DUELING PISTOL", desc: "A LARGE, ORNATE DUELING PISTOL INLAID WITH GOLD FILIGREE DESIGNS. RAPID-FIRING, IT CAN FIRE DIFFERENT KINDS OF AMMUNITION ASIDE FROM STANDARD BULLETS.", hasIcon: 'gun'}, {hideItem: $legendarysword is false, name: "CLARION", desc: "THE SKYSHARD, SWORDSONG OF THE HEAVENS. SAID TO BE FORGED AT THE WORLD'S TALLEST PEAK, THE CRYSTAL BLADE SINGS THROUGH THE AIR IN A STRANGE, EMPOWERING WAY THAT STIRS THE BLOOD...", hasIcon: 'sword'}, {hideItem: $legendarybow is false, name: "THE WARPWOOD STRIKER", desc: "A LEGENDARY BOW SAID TO BE POSSESSED BY A GUIDING SPIRIT WHO CAN DIRECT ITS ARROWS ANYWHERE, EVEN AROUND CORNERS OR IN NON-LINEAR FLIGHT PATHS.", hasIcon: 'bow'}, {hideItem: $legendarydagger is false, name: "WHISPER AND REQUIEM", desc: "TWO ANCIENT DAGGERS THAT ONCE BELONGED TO A LEGENDARY ASSASSIN. WHISPER IS QUICK, LIGHT, AND SILENT, WHILE REQUIEM WEEPS POISON AND CONTAINS DESTRUCTIVE ENERGIES.", hasIcon: 'knife'}, {hideItem: $legendarygun is false, name: "THE THUNDERER", desc: "A WEAPON OF EXPLOSIVE POWER, IT IS THE ONLY KNOWN WORKING PROTOTYPE OF A SHOTGUN, CRAFTED BY AN INVENTOR IN THE WEST.", hasIcon: 'shotgun'}, ], }, armor: { tabKey: "armor", tabName: "ARMOR", items: [ {hideItem: $cloak is false, name: "SHEPHERD CLOAK", desc: "THE SHEPHERDS' CLOAK AND UNIFORM, OUTFITTED IN BLACK AND SILVER COLORS.", hasIcon: 'clothes'}, {hideItem: $medallion is false, name: "SUN MEDALLION", desc: "THE SHEPHERDS' OFFICIAL BADGE AND THE EMBLEM OF YOUR ORDER.", hasIcon: 'clothes'}, {hideItem: $bracers is false, name: "BRACERS", desc: "TOUGHENED BRACERS DESIGNED TO PROTECT YOUR WRISTS AND FOREARMS.", hasIcon: 'armor'}, {hideItem: $greaves is false, name: "GREAVES", desc: "SUPPLE, POLISHED GREAVES DESIGNED TO PROTECT YOUR SHINS, ANKLES, AND KNEES.", hasIcon: 'armor'}, {hideItem: $pauldron != 1, name: "PAULDRON", desc: "A PIECE OF ARMOR DESIGNED TO PROTECT YOUR UPPER ARM, SHOULDER, BACK, AND OTHER VULNERABLE AREAS.", hasIcon: 'armor'}, {hideItem: $pauldron != 2, name: "SET OF PAULDRONS", desc: "TWO PIECES OF ARMOR DESIGNED TO PROTECT YOUR UPPER ARMS, SHOULDERS, BACK, AND OTHER VULNERABLE AREAS.", hasIcon: 'armor'}, {hideItem: $beltofcourage is false, name: "BELT OF HRASKA THE BRAVE", desc: "A BELT SAID TO IMBUE THE WEARER WITH THE COURAGE OF THE SHIELDMAIDEN HEROINE OF OLD.", hasIcon: 'necklace'}, {hideItem: $glovesofstrength is false, name: "GLOVES OF REDDIN OAKSTRONG", desc: "BATTLE GLOVES REPUTEDLY WORN BY THE LEGENDARY WARRIOR. SAID TO GRANT THE WEARER UNMATCHED STRENGTH IN BATTLE.", hasIcon: 'necklace'}, {hideItem: $broochofcunning is false, name: "BROOCH OF THE CHANGELING", desc: "A BROOCH THAT SEEMS TO SHIFT COLORS AND MATERIAL IN DIFFERENT LIGHTS. WHISPERS CLAIM IT GRANTS THE WEARER THE ADAPTABLE CUNNING OF A MYTHICAL SPY.", hasIcon: 'necklace'}, {hideItem: $ringofcharisma is false, name: "RING OF ZATANA SILVERTONGUE", desc: "A RING SUPPOSEDLY BELONGING TO A FOLKLORE TRICKSTER-HERO. SAID TO GIVE THE WEARER PERSUASIVE POWERS.", hasIcon: 'necklace'}, {hideItem: $circletofintelligence is false, name: "CROWN OF THE FARSEERS", desc: "A THIN SILVER CIRCLET SET WITH A MOONSTONE. SAID TO GRANT THE WEARER WISDOM AND A CLEAR MIND.", hasIcon: 'necklace'}, {hideItem: $amuletofmagic is false, name: "AMULET OF THE ARCHMAGE", desc: "AN ORNATE AMULET ETCHED WITH ARCANE SYMBOLS. ONCE BELONGING TO A RENOWNED BLACK-ROBE MAGE, IT IS BELIEVED TO ENHANCE THE WIELDER'S MAGICAL ABILITIES.", hasIcon: 'necklace'}, {hideItem: $arcanecrystal is false, name: "CRYSTALLUS ARCUS", desc: "A GLOWING AMULET THAT WAS THE NAMESAKE OF THE CRYSTAL TOURNAMENT. IT GRANTS A SIGNIFICANT BOOST TO YOUR MAGICAL ABILITIES.", hasIcon: 'necklace'}, {hideItem: $tangrielsring is false, name: "TANGRIEL'S RING", desc: "AN OLD, HEAVY RING INLAID WITH <<print $tangrielsringcolor.toUpperCase()>>. IT NO LONGER HOLDS ITS MAGICAL CHARGE.", hasIcon: 'necklace'}, {hideItem: $clasp is false, name: "<<print $clasppp.toUpperCase()>> CLASP ", desc: "A GIFT FROM CHANDRY IN THE DESIGN OF <<print $claspp.toUpperCase()>>.", hasIcon: 'necklace'}, {hideItem: $goggles is false, name: "DARK GOGGLES", desc: "A SET OF GOGGLES WITH DARKENED LENSES. THEY OBSCURE THE <i>ILADRIN</i> IN YOUR EYES.", hasIcon: 'necklace'}, {hideItem: $charm is "", name: "CANDLE DAY CHARM", desc: "A PROTECTIVE CANDLE DAY TALISMAN MADE FOR YOU BY <<print $charmfrom.toUpperCase()>>. <<print $charm.toUpperCase()>>.", hasIcon: 'necklace'}, ], }, items: { tabKey: "items", tabName: "ITEMS", items: [ {hideItem: $healthpotion is false, name: "HEALTH PACKET", desc: "SPECIALLY-PREPARED SATCHETS FILLED WITH HEALING MEDICINAL HERBS. TAKE WITH WATER, OR MIX INTO PASTE TO FORM A SOOTHING SALVE OR LINIMENT. YOU HAVE $healthpotionnumber. <<if $healthpotionnumber > 0 and $health < 100>> <<link 'TAKE ONE.' 'Inventory'>><<sethealth +10>><<set $healthpotionnumber -= 1>><<run Dialog.setup(\"Health\");Dialog.wiki(Story.get(\"restorehealth\").processText());Dialog.open();>><</link>><</if>>", hasIcon: 'potion'}, {hideItem: $lantern is false, name: "TRAVEL LANTERN", desc: "A SMALL, PORTABLE LAMP. IDEAL FOR CAVES AND RUINS.", hasIcon: 'tent'}, {hideItem: $rope is false, name: "ROPE", desc: "A LONG COIL OF STURDY ROPE.", hasIcon: 'tent'}, {hideItem: $lockpick is false, name: "LOCKPICKING SET", desc: "A BASIC TOOLSET FOR OPENING DOORS AND SIMPLE LOCKS.", hasIcon: 'tent'}, {hideItem: $pocketbook is false, name: "POCKETBOOK OF PORTRAITS", desc: "AN ALBUM OF HANDHELD, MINIATURE PORTRAITS OFTEN EXCHANGED AMONG OFFICERS AS TOKENS OF AFFECTION OR FOR GOOD LUCK. VIEW YOUR ALBUM [[HERE|handheldportraits]].", hasIcon: 'book'}, {hideItem: $album is false, name: "RANGERS OF BLEST TRADING CARDS", desc: "VIEW YOUR ALBUM OF SPECIAL EDITION CARDS [[HERE|cardalbum]]. <<if $unopenedpack > 1>> OR <<link 'CLICK HERE' 'openpackofcards'>><</link>> TO OPEN YOUR $unopenedpack UNOPENED PACKS OF CARDS. <<elseif $unopenedpack is 1>> OR <<link 'CLICK HERE' 'openpackofcards'>><</link>> TO OPEN YOUR ONE UNOPENED PACK OF CARDS.<</if>>", hasIcon: 'book'}, {hideItem: $cigarette is false, name: "SILVER SMOKING CASE", desc: "A SILVER CASE FILLED WITH SLIM CHARCH CIGARETTES.", hasIcon: 'bag'}, {hideItem: $pipe is false, name: "SMOKING PIPE", desc: "A CURVED, POLISHED WOODEN PIPE STUFFED WITH CHARCH.", hasIcon: 'bag'}, {hideItem: $darktome is false, name: "MYSTERIOUS DARK TOME", desc: "A FORBIDDEN TEXT FULL OF PROFANE SECRETS. YOU RESCUED THIS FROM THE EQUALISTS' HIDEOUT.", hasIcon: 'flag'}, {hideItem: $tangrieljournal is false, name: "ARCHMAGE\'S JOURNAL", desc: "A SMUDGED AND HALF-ROTTING JOURNAL THAT YOU FOUND IN THE CAVE OF MANY MOUTHS.", hasIcon: 'flag'}, {hideItem: $tangrielmedallion is false, name: "ARCHMAGE\'S MEDALLION", desc: "A BATTERED AND TARNISHED MEDALLION THAT YOU FOUND IN THE CAVE OF MANY MOUTHS.", hasIcon: 'flag'}, {hideItem: $horn is false, name: "ANAHERA", desc: "HORN OF THE ANCIENTS, CRY OF THE ELEMENTALS. IT RESEMBLES AN ANCIENT IVORY WAR HORN, STRUNG WITH STRANGE SILVER BELLS AND CARVED WITH INDECIPHERABLE RUNES.", hasIcon: 'flag'}, {hideItem: $stoneofpower is false, name: "STONE OF POWER", desc: "A CURIOUS PIECE OF SMOOTH OBSIDIAN THAT SEEMS TO PULSE WITH POWER. YOU CAN'T REMEMBER WHERE YOU PICKED THIS UP.", hasIcon: 'jewel'}, {hideItem: $stoneofwealth is false, name: "STONE OF WEALTH", desc: "A GLITTERING PIECE OF GOLDEN ORE THAT WOULD FETCH A HIGH PRICE AT SHOPS, YET YOU CAN'T SEEM TO LET IT GO. YOU MUST HAVE PICKED THIS UP SOMEWHERE ON YOUR TRAVELS.", hasIcon: 'jewel'}, {hideItem: $stoneoffriendship is false, name: "STONE OF FRIENDSHIP", desc: "A LUMINOUS CAT'S EYE STONE THAT FEELS WARM TO THE TOUCH. IT'S BEEN WITH YOU AS LONG AS YOU CAN REMEMBER.", hasIcon: 'jewel'}, ], }, gifts: { tabKey: "gifts", tabName: "GIFTS", items: [ {hideItem: $bladegift is false, name: "MYSTERIOUS DAGGER", desc: "A STRANGE, CRUEL OBSIDIAN DAGGER WITH A HILT SEEMINGLY CRAFTED FROM BONE. ANCIENT AND FRAGILE, IT'S NOT FIT FOR BATTLE, BUT MAY BE AN INTRIGUING STUDY FOR THOSE INTERESTED IN WEAPONRY. ", hasIcon: 'gift'}, {hideItem: $chasegift is false, name: "FLASHY SCARF", desc: "A SLEEK NECK KERCHIEF FROM THE FASHION CAPITAL, COURTSHORE. IT SMELLS FAINTLY OF LUXURY COLOGNE.", hasIcon: 'gift'}, {hideItem: $troublegift is false, name: "MODEL AIRSHIP", desc: "A DESKTOP TOY MODEL OF AN AIRSHIP, A THEORETICAL CRAFT CAPABLE OF FLIGHT. SOMEONE INTERESTED IN MACHINERY AND MECHANICS MIGHT LIKE THIS.", hasIcon: 'gift'}, {hideItem: $rielgift is false, name: "TOOLSET", desc: "A WORKBENCH KIT FILLED WITH USEFUL TOOLS AND GADGETS. PERFECT FOR THOSE WHO LIKE TO TINKER.", hasIcon: 'gift'}, {hideItem: $sherygift is false, name: "HEART-SHAPED NECKLACE", desc: "A SIMPLE BUT SWEET GOLD LOCKET IN THE SHAPE OF A HEART. THE SMALL CHAIN IS SURPRISINGLY STURDY.", hasIcon: 'gift'}, {hideItem: $falsegift is false, name: "CRYSTAL BALL", desc: "A PRETTY ORB MADE OUT OF GLASS. IT DOESN'T SEEM TO HAVE MUCH USE OTHER THAN FOR ORNAMENTATION.", hasIcon: 'gift'}, {hideItem: $aylagift is false, name: "MAP OF BLEST", desc: "A DETAILED MAP OF THE CONTINENT FOR TRAVELERS. IT SHOWS HIDDEN SHORTCUTS AND POINTS OF INTEREST THAT YOU'VE NEVER EVEN HEARD OF.", hasIcon: 'gift'}, {hideItem: $tallysgift is false, name: "POTTED PLANT", desc: "A CHEERFUL LITTLE SPROUT IN ITS OWN PAINTED CERAMIC POT. IT SMELLS PLEASANT AND HERBY.", hasIcon: 'gift'}, {hideItem: $halekgift is false, name: "EXOTIC COOKBOOK", desc: "A BOOK FULL OF UNIQUE RECIPES FROM ALL OVER THE CONTINENT. SEEMS TO BE FOR ADVENTUROUS EATERS.", hasIcon: 'gift'}, {hideItem: $redgift is false, name: "ANCIENT TOME", desc: "AN ANCIENT MAGE TEXT REFERENCING THE EXISTENCE OF OTHER WORLDS. IT'S STRICT CONTRABAND FOR ANYONE WHO ISN'T A SHEPHERD.", hasIcon: 'gift'}, {hideItem: $lavinetgift is false, name: "ORNATE HAIRPIN", desc: "A GLITTERING AND ELABORATE HAIRPIN IN THE SHAPE OF AN ORCHID BLOOM. ITS PETALS DRIP WITH TINY JEWELS THAT SIMULATE DEW DROPS.", hasIcon: 'gift'}, {hideItem: $brionygift is false, name: "PAINTING SET", desc: "A PORTABLE KIT CONTAINING SEVERAL COLORFUL POTS OF PAINT, PENCILS, BRUSHES, AND AN ARTIST'S PAD. IT'S SMALL ENOUGH TO FIT INTO A SEWING BOX.", hasIcon: 'gift'}, {hideItem: $souvenirgladiator is false, name: "SOUVENIR GLADIATOR", desc: "A SMALL WOODEN FIGURINE OF A GLADIATOR FROM HETH MACOLL. POPULARLY SOLD AS A TOURIST'S MEMENTO.", hasIcon: 'gift'}, {hideItem: $flowergift is false, name: "FLOWERS", desc: "$flowernumber BOUQUET(S) OF VIBRANT BLOOMS.", hasIcon: 'gift'}, ], }, }>> <<inventory_holder $inventoryTabsData "">> /* don't forget arcane crystal from Chapter 8 */ <</nobr>>

Restored +10 health. <center><<button 'Confirm'>><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>></center>

<div class="title">Chapter One</div> <div class="under-header-frame variant2"></div> <<if $part > 1>> <span class="journallist"> <ul> <<if $troubleequalist is true>><li>You chose to accompany Trouble on his mission to find the missing children and the Equalists. </li><<elseif $tallysequalist is true>> <li>You chose to accompany Tallys to a tavern, where you discovered trouble brewing all on its own. </li><</if>> <<if $troubleequalist is true>> <<if $childrensafe is true>> <li>You managed to persuade Trouble to infiltrate the Equalist compound through stealth, recovering the children safely. You headed off to deal with the Equalists while Trouble got the children out, ultimately encountering their sponsor in the form of an ancient demon named Blaphemel. </li><<elseif $childrendead is true>> <li>You managed to storm the Equalist compound and slaughter all of the cultists you could find inside, but you were not able to locate the children they kidnapped. </li><</if>> <</if>> <<if $childrensafe is true and $blaphemeldead is true>> <li>You completely obliterated Blaphemel's existence from this realm or any other. <<if $rikaalive>> You also managed to save the soul of the little girl, Rika, extracting her from the demon's clutches unharmed. <</if>> </li><</if>> <<if $troubleequalist is true and $childrensafe is true>> <li> You decided to <<if $childrenquarantined is true>> take the children back to the Shepherds' compound to be quarantined until they could be determined to be clear of demonic possession. <<elseif $childrenhome is true>> allow the children to go back home to their families, deciding they'd already been through enough. <<elseif $childreninquisitors is true>> turn the children in to the Inquisitors for the safety of the city, not wanting to risk a demonic outbreak. <<if $troublehate is true>> Trouble has made it clear that he won't forgive you for that. <</if>> <</if>> </li> <</if>> <<if $troubleequalist is true>> <li> <<if $equalistscompoundintact is true>> The Equalists' compound was left intact, and whatever magical contraband they stored inside was seized by the authorities. <<else>> The Equalists' compound was destroyed, forever ridding the world of whatever magical contraband had been stored inside. <</if>> <<if $darktome is true>> You did, however, manage to pilfer a mysterious arcane tome from their laboratory when no one was looking. <</if>> </li> <</if>> <<if $tallysequalist is true>> <li> <<if $inquisitors is true>> You interceded when a pair of Inquisitors began harassing the owner of the tavern. <<if $inquisitorswin is true>> You even managed to impress the public by passing their cruel test. <</if>> <<if $coinscar is true>> The encounter did, however, leave you with a coin-shaped scar on your palm. <</if>> <<else>> You chose not to draw attention to yourself when a pair of Inquisitors began harassing the local tavern owner, much to Tallys's relief. <</if>> </li> <</if>> <<if $tallysequalist is true>> <li> The mysterious stranger known as Croelle ultimately intervened on your behalf, putting a stop to the Inquisitors. They seemed to fear him, for some reason. </li> <</if>> <<if $rank is "Captain">> <li> For your actions, Blade promoted you to the rank of Captain. <<if $cainejoin is true>> As one of the conditions of your promotion, you asked for Caine Tavadon to become an apprentice with the Shepherds. <</if>> </li> <</if>> </ul> </span> <<else>> This chapter has not been completed yet. <</if>>

<div class="title">Chapter Two</div> <div class="under-header-frame variant2"></div> <<if $part > 2>> <span class="journallist"> <ul> <li>Black Sun, an insidious drug, began to creep through the streets of Haven. You discovered that an addicted recruit, Benir Roxak, was planning to slip the drug into the infirmary's supplies. <<if $benir is true>>You decided to send him to a clinic to recover from his addiction, then return to the Order. <<elseif $benirsabotage is true>> You showed mercy by allowing him to keep his position at the Order. <<else>>He was ejected from the Order and thrown out. <</if>></li> <li> Later, a thief named Chase Trinaeste stole your sun medallion during a distracting raid on Merchants Guild caravans. <<if $followedriel>>You decided to report this theft to the leader of the Merchants Guild, Riel Syndran. <<elseif $followedchase>> You decided to pursue the thief back to his headquarters, meeting the crew of the Thieves Guild in the process. <</if>> </li> <li> After some commotion, you discovered that the heart of the conflict between Merchants Guild and Thieves Guild was centered around Black Sun. To put an end to the drug, you decided to <<if $rielinvestigation>> investigate with Riel and the Merchants Guild, infiltrating a party at the Trade Minister's mansion. <<if $prihinesafe or $bothsafe>> Prihine, your former charge, aided you in your mission. <</if>> <<elseif $chaseinvestigation>> investigate with Chase and the Thieves Guild, infiltrating a secret factory that was manufacturing Black Sun. <</if>> </li> <li> There, you discovered that a Faceless Lord, Clochus, was behind the drug, distributing it en masse in order to feed off of the catatonia and sloth it induced in its victims. <<if $clochusdead>> You slew Clochus and ended its existence permanently. <<elseif $clochusalive>> You were unable to slay the Faceless Lord, and Clochus escaped into the night. However, its Black Sun operation was dismantled. <<else>> You managed to banish the Faceless Lord back to Hael. <</if>> </li> <li> As a gesture of cooperation and thanks, both Merchants Guild and Thieves Guild have decided to ally themselves with the Shepherds. </li> <<if $prihineromance is true>><li> You spent a passionate night with Prihine, although she stated it could be no more than that. </li><</if>> </ul> </span> <<else>> This chapter has not been completed yet. <</if>>

<div class="title">Chapter Three</div> <div class="under-header-frame variant2"></div> <<if $part > 3>> <span class="journallist"> <ul> <li> After hearing that the Hunters of the Reach have seemingly disappeared, you, Blade, and Chase set off on a journey to Uth Baryd, their capital city. </li> <li> Plagued by nightmares, you were confronted with a choice to tell the Shepherds the truth about your mysterious powers—and your dark past—or deal with your demons yourself. <<if $shepherdsknow is true>> You chose to be upfront about the mysteries surrounding you. <<else>> You chose to guard your secrets closely. <</if>> </li> <li> A snowstorm led you to make a stop in Capra, a Mage city famous for its machinery and mass production of magical artifacts. There, you learned that the citizens of Capra were being terrorized by a "Specter": some kind of monster that fed on their dreams at night and trapped them in unending comas. </li> <li> Your investigation led you to Ayla, a traveling Wind-Mage who owed a debt to the innkeeper you were staying with; <<if $education is "Circle-trained">> together, you went to Solhadur, your old school academy. There, you discovered that Red, <<if $redrelationship is "ex">> your ex-sweetheart, <<elseif $redrelationship is "friend">> your old friend, <<else>> your old school rival <</if>> and several other Mages were still in residence at the castle. Red informed you that the "Specter" was really the Faceless Lord Quiial, the Dream-Eater. <<else>> together, you went to Solhadur, where a hidden enclave of Mages was accused of creating the Specter. The leader of the Mages, Red, claimed that this was not true, and that the Specter was really the Faceless Lord Quiial, Eater of Dreams. <</if>> </li> <li> In Quiial's metaphysical lair, the Phantom Shore, you were confronted with a terrible ordeal: your old village and childhood friend Zori claimed to have been trapped in the nightmare realm after you teleported them there with a Word of Power on your thirteenth birthday. </li> <li> <<if $possessed is true>>Something terrible happened next, but you are not quite sure what. <<else>> However, after many struggles and trials, you finally broke out of your nightmares and confronted Quiial, the orchestrator of your torment. <<if $quiialdead is true>> Together with your companions, you killed it once and for all, freeing Capra and the Veiled Circle from its insidious influence. All affected citizens woke up from their long nightmare, and the city is once again free. <<else>> Together, you banished it once and for all, freeing Capra and the Veiled Circle from its insidious influence. All affected citizens woke up from their long nightmare. <</if>><</if>> </li> </ul> </span> <<else>> This chapter has not been completed yet. <</if>>

<div class="title">Chapter Four</div> <div class="under-header-frame variant2"></div> <<if $part > 4>> <span class="journallist"> <ul> <li> Upon arriving to the Reach, you met Halek, the sol and leader of the Hunters, as well as his twin brother Naolin, his second-in-command. They informed you that the Hunters closed their gates and withdrew from public view in order to protect the world from a virulent plague known as the Wildfire Fever. After being told that Blade was infected with the Fever, you agreed to venture into an ancient cave system to recover the cure: a miraculous substance called lachryma. </li> <li> You discovered that the mountain was not only filled with Tainted creatures known as Ghasts, but it was also filled with the dark metal, thoret: a dangerous and rare material that negates all Diminished Gifts and powers. </li> <li> <<if $metmekduk is true>> After attempting to run from the Ghasts, you fell to the bottom of a deep chasm and encountered one of their sentient exiles: a speaking Ghast named Mekduk. She informed you that the cause of the Hunters' sickness was an ancient demon sleeping within the Cave of Many Mouths: the fourth Faceless Lord, Buubas. Gravely injured, you eventually persuaded her to help you find and deliver the lachryma to the Hunters. <<else>> Despite the many hazards of the mountain, you were able to locate and retrieve the lachryma, delivering it safely to the Hunters of the Reach. </li> <li> While Mekduk was delivering the lachryma, you found an alternative way to escape the cave on your own: a magical ring left behind by an Archmage who was killed by the Ghasts decades before. <<if $tangrieljournal is true and $tangrielmedallion is true>> You also recovered the man's journal and medallion. <<elseif $tangrieljournal is true>> You also recovered the man's journal. <<elseif $tangrielmedallion is true>> You also recovered the man's medallion. <</if>><</if>> </li> <li> Upon your return, you were informed that Blade was not infected with the plague, and that this was a lie concocted by Halek's fiancèe, Moonsilk. <<if $moonsilkpunish is true>> As a result of her actions, Moonsilk will be punished and forced to pay reparations to you and the Shepherds. <<elseif $moonsilknopunish is true>> However, rather than forcing her to pay reparations, you had the Hunters help you another way. <</if>> </li> <li> <<if $savemekduk is true>> You decided to spare Mekduk's life by persuading the Hunters to enter the caves and confront the Faceless Lord yourselves. <<elseif recall("achieve_quick") and $metmekduk is true>> You decided to flood the caves, eliminating both Buubas and the thoret as threats, even though this also meant Mekduk's demise. <<elseif recall("achieve_flood")>> You decided to flood the caves, eliminating the thoret and the Ghasts as a threat. <</if>> </li> <li> <<if $savemekduk is true and $buubasdead is true>> You destroyed the Buubas, the Plague-Bringer, and permanently eradicated its existence. <</if>> <<if $hunterjoin is true>> As a result of your actions, a contingent of Hunters have agreed to join the Shepherds, including Halek Prince. <<else>> As a result of your actions, Halek Prince has decided to become the first Hunter to join the Shepherds, ending his people's decades-long exile from Haven. <</if>> </li> </ul> </span> <<else>> This chapter has not been completed yet. <</if>>

<div class="title">Chapter Five</div> <div class="under-header-frame variant2"></div> <<if $part > 5>> <span class="journallist"> <ul> <li> Blade and Riel informed you that reports were reaching the Shepherds about a gladiator's arena in Heth Macoll: one that was capturing Diminished slaves to force them to fight for spectators' and gamblers' amusement. You traveled west across the Shield Peaks with Halek, Ayla, and Red in order to investigate this matter, eventually posing as a captured slave yourself in order to gain information about the arena's operations and founders. </li> <li> Inside the arena, you met Briony and Nathe, two gladiators who were—unbeknownst to you—secretly orchestrating their own rebellion against their captors. Briony informed you that you would be fighting Nathe the next day, and asked you to throw the fight in order to spare him from being executed for his poor fighting record. </li> <li> <<if $natheoutcome is "lost">> You wound up naturally losing the fight to Nathe anyway, and were pitted against a wyvern in your next fight as a result. Briony jumped in to aid you as thanks for her friend. <<elseif $natheoutcome is "won">> You won the fight against Nathe, provoking Briony's anger. You were then pitted against her in the next fight, and she did not go easy on you. <<elseif $natheoutcome is "forfeit">>You defeated Nathe in reality, but deliberately threw the match in order to save his life. You earned both his and Briony's gratitude for this, and she offered to jump in to help you against your next match: a battle against an angry wyvern. <<elseif $natheoutcome is "killed">> You not only defeated Nathe, but killed him in order to spare him from later execution by your captors. Briony was both heartbroken and enraged, and challenged you to a fight against her immediately afterward. <</if>> </li> <li> <<if $brionyoutcome is "won">> You defeated Briony and earned the title $gladiatortitle. <<elseif $brionyoutcome is "lost">> Briony defeated you, and you earned the title $gladiatortitle. <<elseif $wyvernoutcome is "won">>You defeated the wyvern and even landed the killing blow against it, earning the title $gladiatortitle. <<else>>Although you and Briony ultimately managed to defeat the wyvern, you were knocked out by it and briefly turned to stone during your fight. You earned the title $gladiatortitle as a result. <</if>> </li> <li> Later, you were invited to a celebratory dinner with the arena's sponsor, a mysterious man named Zythos. You soon discovered that the "Sponsor" was not only the Western Hierophant of the One-God's Church, one of the four most powerful religious leaders in the world… but he was also possessed by Jarkyth, a Faceless Lord known as the Blood-Drinker and a glutton of violence. </li> <li> In order to confront the Faceless Lord and defeat it, you needed to break out of the gladiator's arena first. Briony launched her long-planned revolt, and in the process, <<if $tovrikkill is true>> the arena's master of operations, Tovrik, was brutally killed. <<elseif $sparetovrik is true>> the arena's master of operations, Tovrik, was spared from being brutally killed. <</if>> <<if $thummakilled is true>>Thumma, a Binder who had been under his thrall, was also killed. <</if>> The rest of the arena burned, and the rebel gladiators escaped safely. </li> <li> You confronted the Faceless Lord at a nearby cathedral, planning to corner him on a holy day where he would be forced to appear in public. The demon fed your mind with lies and fear, <<if $jarkythfate is "escaped">> and in the end, it managed to escape. <<elseif $jarkythfate is "banished">> but in the end, you prevailed and banished it back to Hael. <<elseif $jarkythfate is "destroyed">> but in the end, you prevailed with the help of your friends and killed it once and for all. <</if>> </li> <<if $possessed is true>> <li> The true Western Hierophant was freed of the demon's control, and you were left with the power to decide his fate. <<if $hierophantfavor is true>> You left him alive, though on the condition that he owed the Shepherds a favor. <<elseif $hierophantalive is true>> You let him live, despite not knowing which actions were the demon's and which were his. <<else>> You ended up executing him in order to be as safe as possible. <</if>> </li> <</if>> <<if $possessed is true>><li> However, the damage had been done, and the Faceless Lord's actions had twisted the Church into believing that animal sacrifices were suitable offerings to the One-God, when in reality, they were fueling the bloodthirsty Faceless Lord's power. <<if $hierophanttruth is true>> You decided to inform the people of this deception, despite the threat of mass unrest and disorder. <<else>> You decided to conceal this truth from the people in order to preserve order and prevent mass revolt. <</if>> </li><</if>> <li> Briony joined the Order, <<if $gladiatorjoin is true>> along with most of the freed gladiators. <<else>> giving the Order another one-woman army. <</if>> </li> </ul> </span> <<else>> This chapter has not been completed yet. <</if>>

<div class="title">Chapter Six</div> <div class="under-header-frame variant2"></div> <<if $part > 6>> <span class="journallist"> <ul> <li> You received a missive from Lady Lavinet Naveen of Lockwood, a fiefdom south of Thielwood, asking you to investigate a mysterious series of attacks on her lands: attacks that seemed supernatural in nature, and which had driven many of her vassals out of their homes and into the sheltering walls of Lockwood, which also housed a number of aristocrats touring the countryside ahead of the social season. </li> <li> With the stakes so high, you proceeded to Lockwood and commenced your investigation, fending off the barbed manuevers and court intrigue taking place between Lavinet, her political rivals, and her allies. <<if $sawisolde is true>> You were offered an opportunity by Lavinet's particular enemies, Lord Auberon Eddon (Lavinet's former would-be suitor) and his fiancé Isolde—to betray Lavinet by giving them the credit of summoning you, should your efforts in Lockwood bear fruit. <<if $auberonsnobles is false>> You rejected this offer, to their ire and dismay. <<else>> You secretly accepted this offer, though Lavinet doesn't know it yet. <</if>><</if>> </li> <li> <<if $elementalsknow is true>> Through your investigation, you were able to deduce that the mysterious attacks pointed to the Elementals, a race of primordial beings thought to have gone extinct over eight hundred years ago. <<if $elementalguard is true>> As a result of your foresight, casualties were minimized when the Elementals proceeded to attack later that very same evening. <<else>> Your conclusions were later proven true when the Elementals attacked later that very same night. <</if>> <<else>> You weren't able to uncover much, which left you ill-prepared and caught off-guard when your foes—which turned out to be Elementals, a race of primordial beings thought to have gone extinct—attacked the estate later that very same night. <</if>> </li> <li> <<if $lavinetkidnapped is false>> The Elementals aimed to kidnap Lavinet, but you were able to thwart their efforts and take your own prisoner: a Flameling named Angant Hainn. Your performance in the fierce battle earned the reluctant respect of the watching nobles. <<else>> The Elementals aimed to kidnap Lavinet, and nearly succeeded after she stepped in to help you during the battle. The resulting skirmish resulted in Lavinet being severely injured, and although she was quickly healed, the damage to your reputation and your relationship to the nobles was not so easy to repair. <</if>> </li> <li>Upon interrogating your Flameling prisoner, you discovered that the Elementals have abruptly returned to the world after almost a millennia of hibernation. Disorientated and confused, they resurfaced in the Continent only to find that their ancestral home, place of governance, and sacred birthing site, the Landsmeet, was gone, and the fiefdom of Lockwood had been built on top of it during the centuries of their absence. Enraged, the Elementals attempted to reclaim their land by driving its Norm occupants away, as the Elementals are unable to resurrect their dead or birth new young without the Landsmeet. </li> <li> After hearing Angant Hainn's story, Lavinet and your team decided to meet with the Elementals' leaders, the Elder Council, in a secret grove outside of Lockwood. <<if $rusesucceed is true>> With the help of your powers and abilities, you were able to cleverly engineer a way to spirit Lavinet out of her estate without her protective father discovering your absence and raising hell. <<else>> Although you attempted to spirit her away without her protective father discovering your absence, your ruse was ultimately discovered, further damaging your reputation and hampering your efforts to foster peace. <</if>> </li> <li>During your meeting with the Elder Council, you ultimately decided to <<if $lockwood is "norms">>side with the Norm residents of Lockwood, telling the Elementals that they would have to find another solution to their problems. The Elementals have now disappeared, and where they'll go or what they'll do next, you aren't sure. <<elseif $lockwood is "elementals">>side with the Elementals, encouraging them to do whatever it takes to reclaim the Landsmeet... even if that means waging war. The current residents of Lockwood will be deeply displeased to hear this news. <<elseif $lockwood is "unity">> propose that both sides share the land, suggesting that both the Norm residents and original Elementals attempt to integrate and live together in harmony. Although it will be a tremendously complicated road, both forces have agreed to try the compromise... for now. <<elseif $lockwood is "new">> propose an extremely unorthodox solution: the Norms would keep Lockwood, while you created a new Landsmeet for the Elementals yourself. Although you've never used your abilities in such a generative manner before, it seems to have worked, saving the futures of both the Elementals and the Lockwoodians for now. As a result, new and hopeful peace now reigns in the region. <</if>> </li> </ul> </span> <<else>> This chapter has not been completed yet. <</if>>

<div class="title">Chapter Seven</div> <div class="under-header-frame variant2"></div> <<if $part > 7>> <span class="journallist"> <ul> <li> You received a request to aid the town of Wallmire, an isolated backwater settlement deep within the Bleakmoor Marshes. According to the reports, an unknown threat was not only keeping the villagers of Wallmire trapped within the swamp; it was also creeping into their town by night and picking off its victims one-by-one. Three Shepherd teams sent ahead of you to investigate had already met their demise at the hands of this unknown threat. </li> <li> After braving the myriad dangers of the swamp, you arrived to find half of Wallmire's population already decimated by "the Terror." A new outsider had also arrived ahead of you, making her camp in a nearby ruin. However, the two incidents happened to be unrelated: the mysterious traveler, Mimir, was a prophetess who claimed to be able to see into the future, while the answer to Wallmire's Terror lay in its past. </li> <li> <<if $thurlshouse is true>> After investigating an abandoned house at Mimir's suggestion, you discovered two things: that a Mage named Lyden had once lived in that house, and that the villagers of Wallmire had killed him and his family for practicing the dark arts thirty years ago. <</if>> <<if recall ("achieve_swamp")>> You also discovered the truth about Wallmire's closed society: rather than Norm villagers, the Wallmirans were actually Changelings, a race of shapeshifters once thought to have gone extinct after they withdrew from the world, tired of being used for their skills in espionage and deception. The Wallmirans swore to never reveal their true nature to outsiders, and partly formed a mob against Lyden and his family in order to protect their ancient secret. <<else>> You did your best to investigate Wallmire's tangled and thorny secrets, but you were ultimately unable to uncover the true reason behind its tragedies before you were attacked. <</if>> </li> <li> A man named Thurl slipped into the village in disguise. <<if recall ("achieve_wolfinsheep")>> You were able to defend yourself before he carried out his plan, however, pursuing him into the swamp. <<else>> You were not able to see through his guise, however, leading to his capture of Wallmire's leader, Saranae. <</if>> You discovered that Thurl was the Terror, a Changeling-Mage hybrid who used his powers to control the Asag—Tainted creatures capable of stealing voices—and murder the Wallmirans as revenge for their slaughter of his parents thirty years ago. </li> <li> <<if $thurlfail is true>> Thurl caught and bound you with his powerful Enchanting magic, necessitating your rescue by your team members and Thurl's subsequent death. <<else>> You broke free of Thurl's Enchanting magic, <<if $thurldead is true>> executing Thurl before your team arrived to help you. <<elseif $thurlmercy is true>> defeating him in battle before offering him clemency and imprisonment in the Ashen Vault prison for his crimes. <<else>> defeating in battle before returning him to Wallmire, <<if $thurldead is true>> where the Wallmirans executed him in their own brand of vigilante justice. <<else>> where you decided to give him to the Inquisitors and imprisonment in the Ashen Vault to await trial for his crimes. <</if>> <</if>> <</if>> Together, you and your team did battle against his Asag as well, <<if $asaggone is true>> eliminating them from the area for good. <<else>> driving them out of the area... for now. <</if>> </li> <li> As a result of your actions, the truth about Wallmire and the Changelings was brought to light. In the end, you decided to <<if $changelingstatus is "exposed">> make your full and honest report to the Autarchy about the events that transpired, meaning that knowledge about the Changelings will soon make its way out into the world once more. <<elseif $changelingstatus is "hidden">> agree to keep their status and location a secret from the Autarch and the rest of the world. <<elseif $changelingstatus is "join">> respect their desire for privacy while still urging them to consider rejoining the rest of the world. While they're not quite ready to make the leap yet, you can count on the Changelings' support in the future. <</if>> </li> <li> Before returning home, you decided to bring Mimir back to Haven with you. She believes that she is a descendant of the <i>kithma</i>, a group of the gods-chosen vessels and champions that were once tasked with bringing divine light and order back to the world. Believing you to be a true <i>kithma</i> in your own right, Mimir asked you to speak to her gods through the use of an ancient luminary... <<if $possessed is true>> but you refused. It all sounded like a load of tripe, anyway... <</if>> </li> </ul> </span> <<else>> This chapter has not been completed yet. <</if>>

<div class="title">Chapter Nine</div> <div class="under-header-frame variant2"></div> <<if $part > 8>> <span class="journallist"> <ul> <li> You were alerted by the Elves in the Elven Quarter that their sacred heartwood tree, Qael-Qanaeon, had fallen ill with a mysterious blight. After some investigation, you were able to uncover the true source of the tree's sickness: a buried cache of Black Sun, leftovers of the drug created by the Faceless Lord Buubas last year. </li> <li>You decided to visited the local Vice Guard garrison to try and uncover evidence of who might be responsible for the buried cache. <<if $staycaine is true>>To your surprise, this led you to cross paths with Alec Cross, once the guard who impeded your entry to Haven so long ago, now a captain of the garrison itself. <<if $kissguard is true>> Even more awkwardly, he was the man whom you kissed and propositioned in order to secure your entrance into the city. And he definitely remembered you. <</if>> Reluctantly, he allowed you to begin sorting through patrol reports in your attempt to hunt down your culprit. <<else>> Alec Cross, a captain of the garrison, allowed you to begin sorting through patrol reports in your attempt to hunt down the culprit. <</if>> </li> <li>You came face-to-face with Valri Riegar and Andrius Kerne, the two Vice Guards responsible for patrolling the Elven Quarter beat. When Cross alerted you to the fact that these same guards had also been responsible for disposing of a small supply of Black Sun, the pieces began to fall into place... but you still needed to prove that they were the ones who actually poisoned the heartwood tree. This required a full confession. </li> <li><<if $confession is true>>In the end, you were able to obtain your confession, proving beyond a shadow of a doubt that Riegar and Kerne were responsible for Qael-Qanaeon's sickness. Their motives were more out of laziness and incompetence than deliberate malice, but that hardly affected your true dilemma: the Elves of Ashtown would revolt if they uncovered the shocking truth behind the destruction of their sacred tree. <<else>> Unfortunately, however, you were unable to obtain a confession from either officer. You were then left to try and prevent an all-out Uprising from breaking out and drowning the city in violence. <</if>> </li> <li> <<if $riegarkernefate is "fired">>In the end, you chose to use a Word of Power to heal the tree yourself, preventing the Elves' wrath from being unleashed on Haven. Qael-Qanaeon has been saved, the Elves have pledged their allegiance to you, and you have been granted a unique connection to the land itself, adding to your growing arsenal of uncanny gifts and abilities. <<elseif $riegarkernefate is "executed">>In the end, you agreed to support the Elves' bid to have Riegar and Kerne executed for their crimes, satisfying the Elves' desire for revenge and preventing further bloodshed. <<elseif $riegarkernefate is "arrested">> You negotiated to have Riegar and Kerne arrested for their crimes rather than executed, but unfortunately, that wasn't enough to satisfy the Elves' desire for vengeance. Even now, unrest is stirring throughout the city. <<else>> In the end, you chose to do nothing, and as a result, deep unrest is beginning to bubble up through the city. It's only a matter of time before the pressure builds to the point of exploding. <</if>> </li> <li> <<if $tallyslavinetfriends is true>> You were also able to heal the divide between Lavinet and Tallys, encouraging them to work towards mutual respect and friendship. <<else>> You were also not able to heal the divide between Tallys and Lavinet, leaving the possibility of friendship between them vanishingly unlikely. <</if>> </li> </ul> </span> <<else>> This chapter has not been completed yet. <</if>>

<div class="title">Chapter Eight</div> <div class="under-header-frame variant2"></div> <<if $part > 8>> <span class="journallist"> <ul> <li>Your return from Wallmire brought with it many changes and paradigm shifts. You decided to help Shery sort through items in the Tower's mystical underground Vaults as part of your downtime. Unfortunately, the arrival of a mysterious cursed package addressed to you triggered an ancient spell that had been lying dormant in the Vaults, sealing you and your party inside and detaching you from the rest of the structure as part of an automatic security measure. The only way out, you were told, was to prove your worthiness by entering the Labyrinth, an elaborate magical construction made by the creator of the security spell. </li> <li>You, Shery, Riel, Chandry, and Mimir did your best to navigate the trials of the Labyrinth, which seemingly teleported you back to Haven's past, depositing you in the grand city of Magus over eight hundred years ago. As part of a delegation of Mages competing in the Crystal Tournament, you sought the chance to re-enter the Tower, which once housed a lauded school for Mages under the leadership of Archmage Tangriel. </li> <li> You slew Tainted creatures in tests of strength and skill, played elaborate games of social cunning, and were charged to decipher a complex magical puzzle as part of the Crystal Tournament's trials. <<if $firstplace gte 3>>You even took first place in every test, a remarkable feat given that you were the only working Mage in your party. <</if>></li> <li> At the end of the tournament, you discovered that the entire gauntlet was an elaborate simulation created by Senua, Archmage Tangriel's head apprentice, time-forgotten muse, and clandestine lover. Senua—or rather, a magical echo of her past self—explained that the Labyrinth was an experimental project that she left behind in the Tower as part of her own legacy, after being forced to leave the school due to the politics surrounding her relationship with Archmage Tangriel. She informed you that your moral conduct throughout the trials actually mattered more to her than your physical performance: the Labryinth was meant to test a person's character and worthiness rather than their raw power. In light of this, <<if $trial gte 2>> you passed. <<else>> In light of this, you actually failed. <</if>> </li> <li> <<if $trial gte 3>> Senua gave you a powerful amulet as a reward for passing her trials with flying colors. <</if>> <<if $trial gte 2 or $towerexit is true>> You were able to exit the Labyrinth through a secret magical passageway through the Tower that had gone undiscovered until now, returning to the present-day as victors rather than as failures in need of rescue. And who knows? Perhaps the mysteries of the Tower and what you found in its past will come in handy to you someday. One never knows... <<else>> As a result, Senua sent you back to the very Vault you had been sealed into at the start. You were forced to brute-force your way through the Tower's defenses in order to rejoin the rest of the world. Whether the damage you wrought to the ancient wards will have any effect down the road remains to be seen.<</if>> </li> </ul> </span> <<else>> This chapter has not been completed yet. <</if>>

<div class="title">Chapter Ten</div> <div class="under-header-frame variant2"></div> <<if $part > 9>> <span class="journallist"> <ul> <li>You were summoned to the Sun Court by Sibella de Vespe, the new High Court Mystic and the Autarch's close personal advisor. With very little notice to arm yourself and prepare, you decided to bring Riel, Lavinet, and Briony with you under the pretense of accompanying Lavinet for her official court debut. Upon arriving to the Sun Court, you were confronted by a face from the past: Croelle, the second-in-command of the Inquisitors and Enik's rumored Left Hand. </li> <li>Croelle informed you of the sinister underpinnings at work in the Sun Court. Sibella de Vespe has been using her magic to turn Diminished captives and victims of the Chrysalis into mindless palace slaves in a process called Leashing. Her latest experiment and purported magnum opus, however, is called a geas: an insidious and undetectable spell that subtly infiltrates and controls a victim without their even realizing it, nudging them to behave in ways that serve the Sun Court without altering their outward personality or appearance of free will. It is the most subversive method of brainwashing you've heard of yet—and De Vespe's intentions seemed to be to test out this new weapon on you. </li> <li>Although thwarted by Croelle's presence and temporary offer of alliance, De Vespe resorted to a backup plan: blackmailing you and your companions in order to seize control of the Shepherds. With only a day to consider her bargain and act, you decided to bring De Vespe down for good: <<if $darktomesibella is true>>by planting your profane dark tome in her room and gathering false evidence from other Sun Courtiers claiming to have witnessed her use of it. <<else>> by uncovering any evidence of actions that would discredit her with the Autarch and seeing her jailed for treason. <</if>> </li> <li> You plunged into the political machinations of the Sun Court as if your life depended <<if $sibellainvestigationsuccessful is true>>on it, even resorting to infiltrating and searching De Vespe's personal rooms for evidence. <<else>> on it. <</if>> <<if $sibellainvestigationsuccessful is true>> In the end, you were able to uncover what you were after: proof that De Vespe has been conspiring with allies in the enemy state of Karzai behind Enik Goldenson's back. <</if>> You approached High Augur Arameri, the Autarch's Right Hand, with your findings and a list of witnesses, hoping to persuade him to bring formal charges against De Vespe. </li> <li><<if $sibellafate is "success">>Fortunately, you were able to sway him to your cause with the strength of your case, ensuring Sibella de Vespe's demise. <<else>> Unfortunately, your case was not strong enough to sway him to your cause, and High Augur Arameri was not convinced to help you bring down De Vespe. <</if>> Before you would personally witness the fallout of your actions, however, a mysterious event seemed to rock the Sun Court, necessitating your hasty exit at Croelle's behest... </li> </ul> </span> <<else>> This chapter has not been completed yet. <</if>>

<<profile_menu>> <<nobr>> <<if settings.music is true>><<audio "pageturn" volume 0.5 play>><</if>><<set $journalholdertitle to "Chapters">> /* Simply define navigation linkes and their names, as array of array, where item at 0, is name of navigation, and item at 1 is the passage name of the journal entry, i.e. prologue_entry, or chapter_1_entry ** I suggest saving all of these under twee/gui/profile/journal_entries, but location/naming can be customized at will IMPORTANT -> right now contents of all entries will be prepared and hidden in DOM, which is probably fine up to 10k words total, but if there were more we'll probably have to rework to a more dynamic system of loading passages/journal entries, and not just hiding them in DOM if they aren ot currently viewed */ <<set $navigationLinks to { journal: { tabKey: "journal", tabName: "Journal", tabLinks: [ {name: "Prologue", passageTag: "prologue_entry"} /* just example of hiding first link -> so by default, second link (chapter 1) should be shown*/ ] } }>> <<for _i to 1; _i lt 13; _i++>> <<set $navigationLinks.journal.tabLinks.push({hideItem: $part < _i, name: "Chapter " + _i, passageTag: "chapter_" + _i + "_entry"}) >> <</for>> <<set $navigationLinks.journal.tabLinks.push({hideItem: $part < 13, name: "Epilogue", passageTag: "epilogue_entry"}) >> /*<<set $navigationLinks.journal.tabLinks.push({name: "Achievements", passageTag: "achievements_entry"}) >>*/ <<journal_holder $navigationLinks "">> <</nobr>>

<<nobr>> <div class="title">Prologue</div> <div class="under-header-frame variant2"></div> <<if $part > 0>><span class="journallist"> <ul> <li>On your thirteenth birthday, the demons returned to Blest. A mysterious visitor granted you the Words of Power, a gift that has the power to alter reality in a way that even magic can't. You used one of the limited Words to banish a Revenant attacking your home, but with it, your entire village also disappeared. </li> <li>Years later, a Norm merchant's apprentice named Caine tried to befriend you. His master, Ebert, confronted you, and you <<if $avoidcaine is true>> avoided Caine to pacify him. Instead, you spent time with your client's daughter, Prihine Naveen. <<elseif $staycaine is true>> defied his command to avoid Caine, earning the man's ire and the attention of the city's Vice Guard.<</if>> <<if $kissguard is true>> You kissed one of the guards to get out of trouble.<</if>></li> <li>You encountered a mysterious man named Croelle, who both tipped you off about an organization called the Shepherds and warned you against joining up with them. </li> <li>Prihine's wedding was attacked by demons, and you <<if $runfromdemon is true>> chose to run away from the church in order to save yourself. <<elseif $runtowardsdemon>> chose to stay at the church and fight. <</if>> <<if $bothdead is true>> As a result, Prihine and Caine are both dead. <<elseif $bothsafe is true>> As a result, Prihine and Caine are both alive and well, and you earned a reward in gold from your former charge. <<elseif $prihinesafe is true>> As a result, Prihine lives while Caine was killed; you earned a reward in gold for your actions. <<elseif $cainesafe>> As a result, Caine lives while Prihine was killed; you earned the apprentice's loyalty for life. <</if>></li> <li>When the Order of the Shepherds approached you, you <<if $shepherdsjoin is true>> joined them willingly, pledging your powers to the greater good. Blade, Trouble, Tallys, and Shery will remember that. <<elseif $shepherdsconscript is true>> were conscripted against your will, only joining to save yourself from execution. Blade, Trouble, Tallys, and Shery won't forget that.<</if>></li> </ul> </span> <<else>>This chapter has not been completed yet. <</if>> <</nobr>>

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<<else>> <<newmeter '$intelligencebar' $intelligence>> <<animation 300ms>> <<colors '#1A2D3B' '#1A2D3B' '#483D3F'>> <<sizing '100%' '2em'>> <<label 'Bright Mind: $intelligence%' 'white' center>> <</newmeter>> <</if>> <<if settings.theme is "Scholar" or settings.theme is "Bard">> <<newmeter '$bladebar' $blade>> <<animation 300ms>> <<colors '#D8B168' '#026C7C' '#483D3F'>> <<sizing '100%' '2em'>> <<label 'Blade: $blade%' 'white' center>> <</newmeter>> <<else>> <<newmeter '$bladebar' $blade>> <<animation 300ms>> <<colors '#1A2D3B' '#cf4d6f' '#483D3F'>> <<sizing '100%' '2em'>> <<label 'Blade: $blade%' 'white' center>> <</newmeter>> <</if>> <<if settings.theme is "Scholar" or settings.theme is "Bard">> <<newmeter '$troublebar' $trouble>> <<animation 300ms>> <<colors '#D8B168' '#026C7C' '#483D3F'>> <<sizing '100%' '2em'>> <<label 'Trouble: $trouble%' 'white' center>> <</newmeter>> <<else>> <<newmeter '$troublebar' $trouble>> <<animation 300ms>> <<colors '#1A2D3B' '#cf4d6f' '#483D3F'>> <<sizing '100%' '2em'>> <<label 'Trouble: $trouble%' 'white' center>> <</newmeter>> <</if>> <<if settings.theme is "Scholar" or settings.theme is "Bard">> <<newmeter '$tallysbar' $tallys>> <<animation 300ms>> <<colors '#D8B168' '#026C7C' '#483D3F'>> <<sizing '100%' '2em'>> <<label 'Tallys: $tallys%' 'white' center>> <</newmeter>> <<else>> <<newmeter '$tallysbar' $tallys>> <<animation 300ms>> <<colors '#1A2D3B' '#cf4d6f' '#483D3F'>> <<sizing '100%' '2em'>> <<label 'Tallys: $tallys%' 'white' center>> <</newmeter>> <</if>> <<if settings.theme is "Scholar" or settings.theme is "Bard">> <<newmeter '$sherybar' $shery>> <<animation 300ms>> <<colors '#D8B168' '#026C7C' '#483D3F'>> <<sizing '100%' '2em'>> <<label 'Shery: $shery%' 'white' center>> <</newmeter>> <<else>> <<newmeter '$sherybar' $shery>> <<animation 300ms>> <<colors '#1A2D3B' '#cf4d6f' '#483D3F'>> <<sizing '100%' '2em'>> <<label 'Shery: $shery%' 'white' center>> <</newmeter>> <</if>> <<if settings.theme is "Scholar" or settings.theme is "Bard">> <<newmeter '$rielbar' $riel>> <<animation 300ms>> <<colors '#D8B168' '#026C7C' '#483D3F'>> <<sizing '100%' '2em'>> <<label 'Riel: $riel%' 'white' center>> <</newmeter>> <<else>> <<newmeter '$rielbar' $riel>> <<animation 300ms>> <<colors '#1A2D3B' '#cf4d6f' '#483D3F'>> <<sizing '100%' '2em'>> <<label 'Riel: $riel%' 'white' center>> <</newmeter>> <</if>> <<if settings.theme is "Scholar" or settings.theme is "Bard">> <<newmeter '$chasebar' $chase>> <<animation 300ms>> <<colors '#D8B168' '#026C7C' '#483D3F'>> <<sizing '100%' '2em'>> <<label 'Chase: $chase%' 'white' center>> <</newmeter>> <<else>> <<newmeter '$chasebar' $chase>> <<animation 300ms>> <<colors '#1A2D3B' '#cf4d6f' '#483D3F'>> <<sizing '100%' '2em'>> <<label 'Chase: $chase%' 'white' center>> <</newmeter>> <</if>> <<if settings.theme is "Scholar" or settings.theme is "Bard">> <<newmeter '$redbar' $red>> <<animation 300ms>> <<colors '#D8B168' '#026C7C' '#483D3F'>> <<sizing '100%' '2em'>> <<label 'Red: $red%' 'white' center>> <</newmeter>> <<else>> <<newmeter '$redbar' $red>> <<animation 300ms>> <<colors '#1A2D3B' '#cf4d6f' '#483D3F'>> <<sizing '100%' '2em'>> <<label 'Red: $red%' 'white' center>> <</newmeter>> <</if>> <<if settings.theme is "Scholar" or settings.theme is "Bard">> <<newmeter '$aylabar' $ayla>> <<animation 300ms>> <<colors '#D8B168' '#026C7C' '#483D3F'>> <<sizing '100%' '2em'>> <<label 'Ayla: $ayla%' 'white' center>> <</newmeter>> <<else>> <<newmeter '$aylabar' $ayla>> <<animation 300ms>> <<colors '#1A2D3B' '#cf4d6f' '#483D3F'>> <<sizing '100%' '2em'>> <<label 'Ayla: $ayla%' 'white' center>> <</newmeter>> <</if>> <<if settings.theme is "Scholar" or settings.theme is "Bard">> <<newmeter '$halekbar' $halek>> <<animation 300ms>> <<colors '#D8B168' '#026C7C' '#483D3F'>> <<sizing '100%' '2em'>> <<label 'Halek: $halek%' 'white' center>> <</newmeter>> <<else>> <<newmeter '$halekbar' $halek>> <<animation 300ms>> <<colors '#1A2D3B' '#cf4d6f' '#483D3F'>> <<sizing '100%' '2em'>> <<label 'Halek: $halek%' 'white' center>> <</newmeter>> <</if>> <<if settings.theme is "Scholar" or settings.theme is "Bard">> <<newmeter '$brionybar' $briony>> <<animation 300ms>> <<colors '#D8B168' '#026C7C' '#483D3F'>> <<sizing '100%' '2em'>> <<label 'Briony: $briony%' 'white' center>> <</newmeter>> <<else>> <<newmeter '$brionybar' $briony>> <<animation 300ms>> <<colors '#1A2D3B' '#cf4d6f' '#483D3F'>> <<sizing '100%' '2em'>> <<label 'Briony: $briony%' 'white' center>> <</newmeter>> <</if>> <<if settings.theme is "Scholar" or settings.theme is "Bard">> <<newmeter '$lavinetbar' $lavinet>> <<animation 300ms>> <<colors '#D8B168' '#026C7C' '#483D3F'>> <<sizing '100%' '2em'>> <<label 'Lavinet: $lavinet%' 'white' center>> <</newmeter>> <<else>> <<newmeter '$lavinetbar' $lavinet>> <<animation 300ms>> <<colors '#1A2D3B' '#cf4d6f' '#483D3F'>> <<sizing '100%' '2em'>> <<label 'Lavinet: $lavinet%' 'white' center>> <</newmeter>> <</if>> <<if settings.theme is "Scholar" or settings.theme is "Bard">> <<newmeter '$mimirbar' $mimir>> <<animation 300ms>> <<colors '#D8B168' '#026C7C' '#483D3F'>> <<sizing '100%' '2em'>> <<label 'Mimir: $mimir%' 'white' center>> <</newmeter>> <<else>> <<newmeter '$mimirbar' $mimir>> <<animation 300ms>> <<colors '#1A2D3B' '#cf4d6f' '#483D3F'>> <<sizing '100%' '2em'>> <<label 'Mimir: $mimir%' 'white' center>> <</newmeter>> <</if>>

<<profile_menu>> <<if $sword > 100>> <<set $sword to 100>> <</if>> <<if $gun > 100>> <<set $gun to 100>> <</if>> <<if $bow > 100>> <<set $bow to 100>> <</if>> <<if $dagger > 100>> <<set $dagger to 100>> <</if>> <div class="character-form"> <div class="title-container"> <div class="title">$firstname $surname</div> <div class="subtitle"><<nobr>><<if $part lte 1>>Wandering Mercenary<<else>><<c "rank">> of the Shepherds<</if>><</nobr>></div> </div> <div class="character-info"> <div class="form-group column-holder"> <div class="flex-column"> <div class="attribute"> <div class="attribute-title"><<link 'PRONOUNS'>><<run Dialog.setup("Pronouns"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("Pronouns Stats").processText()); Dialog.open();>><</link>></div> <span><<if $she is "">><<else>><<c "she">>/$them<</if>></span> </div> <div class="attribute"> <div class="attribute-title">HERITAGE</div> <span><<c "heritage">></span> </div> <div class="attribute"> <div class="attribute-title">EDUCATION</div> <span><<c "education">></span> </div> </div> <div class="flex-column column-holder"> <div class="aliases flex-column"> <div class="title"> ALIASES </div> <div class="alias-list scroll-viewport"> <div class="scroll-holder"> <<if $part == 1>><div>Recruit</div><</if>> <<if $halfname is not "recruit" and $halfname is not $firstname>><div><<c "halfname">></div><</if>> <<if $halfname2 is not "" and $halfname2 is not $halfname and $halfname2 is not $firstname>><div><<c "halfname2">></div><</if>> <<if $formalwearhave is true or $part >= 5>><div>$falsename $falsesurname</div><</if>> <<if $robyn is true>><div>Robyn Ancelstierre</div><</if>> <<if $part >= 5>><<if $gladiatortitle is "Butcher" or $gladiatortitle is "Reaper">><div>The $gladiatortitle</div><<else>><div>$gladiatortitle</div><</if>><</if>> <<if $ilvos is true>><div>Ilvos</div><</if>> <<if $treefriend is true>><div>Aerlinorn</div><</if>> <<if $elffriend is true and $heritage is "Elf">><div>Aelveron</div><</if>> <<if $elffriend is true and $heritage is not "Elf">><div>Eldarien</div><</if>> <<if $part >= 8>><div>Godchild</div><</if>> <<if $part >= 8>><div>Kithma</div><</if>> <<if $part >= 8>><div>Brightburner</div><</if>> <<if $part > 8>><div>Light of the World</div><</if>> </div> </div> </div> <div class="avatar flex-column"><<nobr>> <<if $specialization is "">><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/symbols/startingprofilepic.png" width="150" height="150"/><</if>> <<if $specialization is "battle">><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/symbols/battlemage.png" width="150" height="150"/><</if>> <<if $specialization is "wild">><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/symbols/wildmage.png" width="150" height="150"/><</if>> <<if $specialization is "elementalist">><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/symbols/elementalist.png" width="150" height="150"/><</if>> <<if $specialization is "healer">><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/symbols/healer.png" width="150" height="150"/><</if>> <<if $specialization is "diviner">><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/symbols/diviner.png" width="150" height="150"/><</if>> <<if $specialization is "enchanter">><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/symbols/enchanter.png" width="150" height="150"/><</if>> <<if $specialization is "shifter">><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/symbols/shifter.png" width="150" height="150"/><</if>> <<if $specialization is "binder">><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/symbols/binder.png" width="150" height="150"/><</if>> <<if $specialization is "conjurer">><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/symbols/conjurer.png" width="150" height="150"/><</if>> <</nobr>> </div> </div> </div> <div class="form-group column-holder"> <div class="attribute flex-column"> <div class="attribute-title">SPECIALIZATION</div> <span><<c "specializationtitle">></span> </div> <div class="attribute flex-column"> <div class="attribute-title">CALLSIGN</div> <span><<c "callsign">></span> </div> </div> <div class="form-group"> <div class="attribute"> <div class="attribute-title">APPEARANCE</div> <span><<nobr>><<if $scars is true and $tattoos is true>><<set $appearance to "scarred and tattooed">><<elseif $scars is true>><<set $appearance to "scarred">><<elseif $tattoos is true>><<set $appearance to "tattooed">><</if>><</nobr>><<if $appearance2 is "" and $appearance3 is "">>A $appearance $gender Mage with $hairlength $hairtype $haircolor hair and $expression $eyecolor eyes.<<else>>A $appearance $gender Mage with $appearance2 $appearance3 $hairlength $hairtype $haircolor hair, and $expression $eyecolor eyes.<</if>> You're wearing $clothes. <<if $rings is true>> Many rings spark on your fingers.<</if>><<if $piercings is true>> Your ears glow with several metal piercings.<</if>><<nobr>> <<if $heritage is "Elf">> You have faintly-pointed ears as a result of your Elvish heritage.<<elseif $heritage is "Hunter">> You have a streak of white in your hair as a result of your Hunter heritage.<<elseif $heritage is "Ket">> You sport a small tattoo on the inside of your wrist as a result of your Ket heritage.<</if>><<if $formalwearhave is false and $goggles is true>> Your eyes are disguised by darkened goggles.<</if>><<if $clasp is true>> Your cloak sports a $clasppp clasp.<</if>><<if $coinscar is true>> Your palm bears a strange, eye-shaped scar.<</if>><<if $poesyring is true>> You wear a $ringmetal ring on your $ringfinger: it bears the insignia or $ringsymbol and holds a message inside that reads: "<i>$ringinscription</i>."<</if>><<if $cheekscar is true>> You have a pale, silvery scar stretching across your right cheek.<</if>><</nobr>></span> </div> <div class="attribute"> <div class="attribute-title">REPUTATION</div> <span><<nobr>> <<if $reputation > 100>>You have achieved legendary status, and are regarded as a hero and champion by all. <<elseif $reputation >= 90>>You have achieved fame and celebrity, and everyone knows your name. <<elseif $reputation >= 80>>You have made a strong reputation for yourself and are well-known in most circles, especially throughout Haven, where your name is murmured from the noblest households to the dingiest teashops in Ashtown. <<elseif $reputation >= 70>>Your name is a common household topic in Haven. <<elseif $reputation >= 60>>You are the subject of much gossip in Haven. <<elseif $reputation >= 50>>Some people are beginning to recognize you in the street. <<elseif $reputation >= 40>>A few people have heard of your name and deeds. <<elseif $reputation >= 30>>You have impressed a few people. <<elseif $reputation >= 20>>Almost no one knows you. <<elseif $reputation >= 10>>You have left a negative impression, if any at all. <<elseif $reputation < 10>>You have an extremely poor reputation, and if anyone recognizes you, it's only to throw you looks of scorn. <</if>><</nobr>> </span> </div> </div> </div> <div class="character-stats"> <div class="form-group resources"> <div class="group-title"> RESOURCES </div> <div class="column-holder flex-wrap ignore-responsive"> <div class="flex-column boxy-flex flex-justify-center col-1"> <div class="stat-badge" data-type="words_of_power"> <div class="stat-value">$godspeaker</div> <div class="stat-label">WORDS OF POWER</div> </div> </div> <div class="flex-column col-4"> <br> <<showmeter '$healthbar' `$health / 100`>> </div> </div> </div> <<if settings.statbardisplay is false>> <div class="form-group traits"> <div class="group-title"> TRAITS </div> <div class="column-holder flex-wrap"> <div class="flex-column boxy-flex flex-justify-center col-1"> <div class="stat-badge" data-type="courage"> <div class="stat-value">$courage</div> <div class="stat-label">NERVES OF STEEL</div> </div> <div class="stat-badge" data-type="charisma"> <div class="stat-value">$charisma</div> <div class="stat-label">SILVER TONGUE</div> </div> <div class="stat-badge" data-type="intelligence"> <div class="stat-value">$intelligence</div> <div class="stat-label">BRIGHT MIND</div> </div> <div class="stat-badge" data-type="cunning"> <div class="stat-value">$cunning</div> <div class="stat-label">RAZOR WITS</div> </div> </div> <div class="flex-column col-1"> <br> <<opposed_stat "Heart of Gold:" "Will of Iron:" $compassionate>> <<opposed_stat "Soldier:" "Rebel:" $loyal>> <<opposed_stat "Theist:" "Skeptic:" $faith>> </div> </div> </div> <div class="form-group skills"> <div class="group-title"> SKILLS </div> <div class="column-holder"> <div class="flex-column boxy-flex with-frame flex-justify-center col-1"> <div class="group-sub-title">MAGIC</div> <div class="stat-badge" data-type="magic"> <div class="stat-value">$magic</div> <div class="stat-label">MAGIC</div> </div> <div class="stat-badge" data-type="arcane"> <div class="stat-value">$arcane</div> <div class="stat-label">ARCANE</div> </div> <div class="stat-badge" data-type="astral"> <div class="stat-value">$astral</div> <div class="stat-label">ASTRAL</div> </div> <div class="stat-badge" data-type="psionic"> <div class="stat-value">$psionic</div> <div class="stat-label">PSIONIC</div> </div> </div> <div class="flex-column boxy-flex with-frame flex-justify-center col-1"> <div class="group-sub-title">WEAPONRY</div> <div class="stat-badge" data-type="physique"> <div class="stat-value">$strength</div> <div class="stat-label">PHYSIQUE</div> </div> <div class="stat-badge" data-type="swordsmanship"> <div class="stat-value">$sword</div> <div class="stat-label">SWORDSMANSHIP</div> </div> <div class="stat-badge" data-type="knifework"> <div class="stat-value">$dagger</div> <div class="stat-label">KNIFEWORK</div> </div> <div class="stat-badge" data-type="gunslinging"> <div class="stat-value">$gun</div> <div class="stat-label">GUNSLINGING</div> </div> <div class="stat-badge" data-type="archery"> <div class="stat-value">$bow</div> <div class="stat-label">ARCHERY</div> </div> </div> </div> </div> <<else>> <div class="form-group traits"> <div class="group-title"> TRAITS </div> <div class="column-holder flex-wrap"> <div class="flex-column col-1"> <br> <<showmeter '$couragebar' `$courage / 100`>> <<showmeter '$charismabar' `$charisma / 100`>> <<showmeter '$intelligencebar' `$intelligence / 100`>> <<showmeter '$cunningbar' `$cunning / 100`>> </div> <div class="flex-column col-1"> <br> <<opposed_stat "Heart of Gold:" "Will of Iron:" $compassionate>> <<opposed_stat "Soldier:" "Rebel:" $loyal>> <<opposed_stat "Theist:" "Skeptic:" $faith>> </div> </div> </div> <div class="form-group skills"> <div class="group-title"> SKILLS </div> <div class="column-holder flex-wrap"> <div class="flex-column with-frame col-1"> <br> /* <div class="group-sub-title">MAGIC</div> <br> */ <<showmeter '$magicbar' `$magic / 100`>> <<showmeter '$astralbar' `$astral / 100`>> <<showmeter '$psionicbar' `$psionic / 100`>> <<showmeter '$arcanebar' `$arcane / 100`>> </div> <div class="flex-column with-frame col-1"> <br> /* <div class="group-sub-title">WEAPONRY</div> <br> */ <<showmeter '$strengthbar' `$strength / 100`>> <<if $mainweapon is "sword" or $possess_sword is true>><<showmeter '$swordbar' `$sword / 100`>><</if>> <<if $mainweapon is "gun" or $possess_gun is true>><<showmeter '$gunbar' `$gun / 100`>><</if>> <<if $mainweapon is "dagger" or $possess_dagger is true>><<showmeter '$daggerbar' `$dagger / 100`>><</if>> <<if $mainweapon is "bow" or $possess_bow is true>><<showmeter '$bowbar' `$bow / 100`>><</if>> </div> </div> </div> <</if>>

<<nobr>><<set _sheher to "">><</nobr>><span class="heading">Pronouns</span> Select your pronouns //or// input custom ones below. <span class="subheading">Use Preset Pronouns</span> <<listbox "_sheher">> <<option "She/Her/Hers">> <<option "He/Him/His">> <<option "Xe/Xem/Xis">> <<option "They/Them/Theirs">> <</listbox>> <<button 'Confirm'>><<if _sheher is "She/Her/Hers">> <<set $she to "she", $her to "her", $hers to "hers", $them to "her">> <<elseif _sheher is "He/Him/His">> <<set $she to "he", $her to "his", $hers to "his", $them to "him">> <<elseif _sheher is "Xe/Xem/Xis">> <<set $she to "xe", $hers to "xis", $her to "xer", $them to "xem">> <<elseif _sheher is "They/Them/Theirs">> <<set $plural to true, $she to "they", $hers to "theirs", $her to "their", $them to "them">> <</if>><<goto "Profile">><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>> <span class="subheading">Use Custom Pronouns</span> <label><<radiobutton "$plural" false checked>>  Singular</label> <label><<radiobutton "$plural" true>>  Plural</label> Please use only lower-case letters when inputting your pronouns. //<b>She</b> went on a trip to the shore.// <<textbox "$she" "she">> //<b>Her</b> dog is rambunctious.// <<textbox "$her" "her">> //The cat in the corner is <b>hers</b>.// <<textbox "$hers" "hers">> //I haven't seen <b>them</b> around lately.// <<textbox "$them" "them">> <<button 'Confirm'>><<goto "Profile">><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>>

<<nobr>> <<profile_menu>> <<if settings.statbardisplay is false>> <<if $part > 0>><div class="character-card"> <div class="column-holder"> <div class="flex-column col-1 text-center"> <<if settings.characterart is true>><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/characters/bladeframefinal.png" width="85%" style="margin:10px 0px 0px 0px" /> <<else>><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/symbols/tarot_0052_justice.png" class="" width="150px" height="200px" style="margin:20px 0px 0px 0px" /> <</if>> </div> <div class="flex-column col-2"> <div class="title-container"> <div class="title">Blade Bronwyn</div> <div class="subtitle">The Assassin</div> </div> <div class="description"> <span class = "character-card label">DESCRIPTION:</span> The $bladetrait1 and $bladetrait2 commander of the Shepherds. Rumored to be a famed Ket assassin, he is rigidly serious and can be hard to read. He is a master swordsman and fearsome military leader, though his social charms are somewhat lacking. </div> </div> </div> <hr> <<if $bladehate is true>><div class="my-progress-bar" data-type="blade" data-progress="0" data-after="HATED"><span></span></div> <<else>> <<showmeter '$bladebar' `$blade / 100`>> <</if>> <hr> <div class="character-status"> <span class = "character-card label">STATUS:</span> $bladestatus </div> </div> <</if>> <<if $part > 0>><div class="character-card"> <div class="column-holder"> <div class="flex-column col-1 text-center"> <<if settings.characterart is true>> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/characters/troubleframe2.png" width="85%" style="margin:10px 0px 0px 0px" /> <<else>><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/symbols/tarot_0050_strength.png" class="" width="200px" height="200px" style="margin:20px 0px 0px 0px" /> <</if>> </div> <div class="flex-column col-2"> <div class="title-container"> <div class="title">Trouble Alder</div> <div class="subtitle">The Gunslinger</div> </div> <div class="description"> <span class = "character-card label">DESCRIPTION:</span> The Shepherds' $troubletrait1 and $troubletrait2 Vice-Commander. Although popular with the local city folk, he has a reputation for frequently swinging first, asking questions later, and launching himself into all-out brawls—hence his nickname. </div> </div> </div> <hr> <<if $troublehate is true>><div class="my-progress-bar" data-type="trouble" data-progress="0" data-after="HATED"><span></span></div> <<else>> <<showmeter '$troublebar' `$trouble / 100`>> <</if>> <hr> <div class="character-status"> <span class = "character-card label">STATUS:</span> $troublestatus </div> </div><</if>> <<if $part > 0>><div class="character-card"> <div class="column-holder"> <div class="flex-column col-1 text-center"> <<if settings.characterart is true>> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/characters/tallysframe.png" width="85%" style="margin:10px 0px 0px 0px" /> <<else>><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/symbols/tarot_0046_high-priestess.png" class="" width="180px" height="200px" style="margin:20px 0px 0px 0px" /> <</if>> </div> <div class="flex-column col-2"> <div class="title-container"> <div class="title">Tallys Ironwood</div> <div class="subtitle">The Keeper</div> </div> <div class="description"> <span class = "character-card label">DESCRIPTION:</span> The $tallystrait1 and $tallystrait2 Elven archer who serves as the Shepherds' third-in-command. The former Keeper of her fallen clan, she's over two hundred years old and is known for acting with a sense of experienced precaution. </div> </div> </div> <hr> <<if $tallyshate is true>><div class="my-progress-bar" data-type="tallys" data-progress="0" data-after="HATED"><span></span></div> <<else>> <<showmeter '$tallysbar' `$tallys / 100`>> <</if>> <hr> <div class="character-status"> <span class = "character-card label">STATUS:</span> $tallysstatus </div> </div><</if>> <<if $part > 0>><div class="character-card"> <div class="column-holder"> <div class="flex-column col-1 text-center"> <<if settings.characterart is true>> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/characters/sheryframe.png" width="85%" style="margin:10px 0px 0px 0px" /> <<else>><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/symbols/tarot_0043_empress.png" class="" width="200px" height="210px" style="margin:20px 0px 0px 0px" /> <</if>> </div> <div class="flex-column col-2"> <div class="title-container"> <div class="title">Shery Acquell</div> <div class="subtitle">The Quartermaster</div> </div> <div class="description"> <span class = "character-card label">DESCRIPTION:</span> The $sherytrait1 and $sherytrait2 Norm who serves as the Shepherds' quartermaster. Timid and sweet, she has trouble speaking up for herself, but loves creating a comfortable home for her fellow Shepherds. She has never left Haven's city limits. </div> </div> </div> <hr> <<if $sheryhate is true>><div class="my-progress-bar" data-type="shery" data-progress="0" data-after="HATED"><span></span></div> <<else>> <<showmeter '$sherybar' `$shery / 100`>> <</if>> <hr> <div class="character-status"> <span class = "character-card label">STATUS:</span> $sherystatus </div> </div><</if>> <<if $rieljoin is true>><div class="character-card"> <div class="column-holder"> <div class="flex-column col-1 text-center"> <<if settings.characterart is true>> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/characters/rielframe.png" width="85%" style="margin:10px 0px 0px 0px" /> <<else>><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/symbols/tarot_0053_hermit.png" class="" width="150px" height="250px" style="margin:10px 0px 0px 0px" /> <</if>> </div> <div class="flex-column col-2"> <div class="title-container"> <div class="title">Riel Syndran</div> <div class="subtitle">The Businessman</div> </div> <div class="description"> <span class = "character-card label">DESCRIPTION:</span> The $rieltrait1 and $rieltrait2 Norm who leads the Merchants Guild in Haven. Feared for his ruthless business manuevers and keen political strategems, he is hailed as a modern genius and always seems to think ten moves ahead of his opponents. </div> </div> </div> <hr> <<if $rielhate is true>><div class="my-progress-bar" data-type="riel" data-progress="0" data-after="HATED"><span></span></div> <<else>> <<showmeter '$rielbar' `$riel / 100`>> <</if>> <hr> <div class="character-status"> <span class = "character-card label">STATUS:</span> $rielstatus </div> </div><</if>> <<if $chasejoin is true>><div class="character-card"> <div class="column-holder"> <div class="flex-column col-1 text-center"> <<if settings.characterart is true>> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/characters/chaseframe.png" width="85%" style="margin:10px 0px 0px 0px" /> <<else>><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/symbols/tarot_0060_moon.png" class="" width="175px" height="225px" style="margin:10px 30px 0px 0px" /> <</if>> </div> <div class="flex-column col-2"> <div class="title-container"> <div class="title">Chase Trinaeste</div> <div class="subtitle">The Thief</div> </div> <div class="description"> <span class = "character-card label">DESCRIPTION:</span> The $chasetrait1 and $chasetrait2 Norm who leads the Thieves Guild in Haven. Known as the Thief-Lord of Haven, he always seems to be in a playful mood and is always cracking jokes. However, his deadly skills hint at a much darker past. </div> </div> </div> <hr> <<if $chasehate is true>><div class="my-progress-bar" data-type="chase" data-progress="0" data-after="HATED"><span></span></div> <<else>> <<showmeter '$chasebar' `$chase / 100`>> <</if>> <hr> <div class="character-status"> <span class = "character-card label">STATUS:</span> $chasestatus </div> </div><</if>> <<if $redjoin is true>><div class="character-card"> <div class="column-holder"> <div class="flex-column col-1 text-center"> <<if settings.characterart is true>> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/characters/redframe.png" width="85%" style="margin:10px 0px 0px 0px" /> <<else>><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/symbols/tarot_0055_magi.png" class="" width="150px" height="250px" style="margin:10px 0px 0px 0px" /> <</if>> </div> <div class="flex-column col-2"> <div class="title-container"> <div class="title">Red Antiqua</div> <div class="subtitle">The Explorer</div> </div> <div class="description"> <span class = "character-card label">DESCRIPTION:</span> The $redtrait1 and $redtrait2 Mage who leads the Veiled Circle of Mages based in Capra. Inquisitive and passionately curious, he's an adept scholar who has been researching an ancient sect of Mages called the Worldwalkers. </div> </div> </div> <hr> <<if $redhate is true>><div class="my-progress-bar" data-type="red" data-progress="0" data-after="HATED"><span></span></div> <<else>> <<showmeter '$redbar' `$red / 100`>> <</if>> <hr> <div class="character-status"> <span class = "character-card label">STATUS:</span> $redstatus </div> </div><</if>> <<if $aylajoin is true>><div class="character-card"> <div class="column-holder"> <div class="flex-column col-1 text-center"> <<if settings.characterart is true>> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/characters/aylaframe.png" width="85%" style="margin:10px 0px 0px 0px" /> <<else>><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/symbols/tarot_0051_world.png" class="" width="200px" height="205px" style="margin:10px 0px 0px 0px"/> <</if>> </div> <div class="flex-column col-2"> <div class="title-container"> <div class="title">Ayla Aescar</div> <div class="subtitle">The Nomad</div> </div> <div class="description"> <span class = "character-card label">DESCRIPTION:</span> A $aylatrait1 and $aylatrait2 Wind-Mage from the Jalis desert who has wandered the land for her entire life. A former wilderness guide and hardened survivalist, she isn't used to being around people. </div> </div> </div> <hr> <<if $aylahate is true>><div class="my-progress-bar" data-type="ayla" data-progress="0" data-after="HATED"><span></span></div> <<else>> <<showmeter '$aylabar' `$ayla / 100`>> <</if>> <hr> <div class="character-status"> <span class = "character-card label">STATUS:</span> $aylastatus </div> </div><</if>> <<if $halekjoin is true>><div class="character-card"> <div class="column-holder"> <div class="flex-column col-1 text-center"> <<if settings.characterart is true>> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/characters/halekframe.png" width="85%" style="margin:10px 0px 0px 0px" /> <<else>><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/symbols/tarot_0057_hanged-man.png" class="" width="150px" height="225px" style="margin:10px 0px 0px 0px" /> <</if>> </div> <div class="flex-column col-2"> <div class="title-container"> <div class="title">Halek Prince</div> <div class="subtitle">The Exorcist</div> </div> <div class="description"> <span class = "character-card label">DESCRIPTION:</span> The $halektrait1 and $halektrait2 Hunter who serves as chieftain of the Reach. As //sol//, he is prophesized to someday lead his people to salvation, but he believes his twin would be the better leader. Despite his apparent laziness, his demon-hunting powers and experience are not to be underestimated. </div> </div> </div> <hr> <<if $halekhate is true>><div class="my-progress-bar" data-type="halek" data-progress="0" data-after="HATED"><span></span></div> <<else>> <<showmeter '$halekbar' `$halek / 100`>> <</if>> <hr> <div class="character-status"> <span class = "character-card label">STATUS:</span> $halekstatus </div> </div><</if>> <<if $brionyjoin is true>><div class="character-card"> <div class="column-holder"> <div class="flex-column col-1 text-center"> <<if settings.characterart is true>> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/characters/brionyframe.png" width="85%" style="margin:10px 0px 0px 0px" /> <<else>><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/symbols/tarot_0058_star.png" class="" width="200px" height="200px" style="margin:20px 0px 0px 0px" /> <</if>> </div> <div class="flex-column col-2"> <div class="title-container"> <div class="title">Briony Stormbreaker</div> <div class="subtitle">The Gladiator</div> </div> <div class="description"> <span class = "character-card label">DESCRIPTION:</span> A $brionytrait1 and $brionytrait2 Battle-Mage with explosive powers. Seemingly of mixed Diminished blood, she lost her memories in a shipwreck and is relearning how to temper her magic and superstrength. However, she has not lost her sense of optimism and zeal for life. </div> </div> </div> <hr> <<if $brionyhate is true>><div class="my-progress-bar" data-type="briony" data-progress="0" data-after="HATED"><span></span></div> <<else>> <<showmeter '$brionybar' `$briony / 100`>> <</if>> <hr> <div class="character-status"> <span class = "character-card label">STATUS:</span> $brionystatus </div> </div><</if>> <<if $lavinetjoin is true>><div class="character-card"> <div class="column-holder"> <div class="flex-column col-1 text-center"> <<if settings.characterart is true>> <<if $lavinetcolor is "auburn">> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/characters/lavinetframe_orange.png" width="85%" style="margin:10px 0px 0px 0px" /> <<else>> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/characters/lavinetframe_grape.png" width="85%" style="margin:10px 0px 0px 0px" /> <</if>> <<else>><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/symbols/tarot_0059_sun.png" class="" width="190px" height="200px" style="margin:20px 0px 0px 0px" /> <</if>> </div> <div class="flex-column col-2"> <div class="title-container"> <div class="title">Lavinet Naveen</div> <div class="subtitle">The Aristocrat</div> </div> <div class="description"> <span class = "character-card label">DESCRIPTION:</span> The $lavinettrait1 and $lavinettrait2 Norm aristocrat who rules as heiress of Lockwood. A chevalier who fights on horseback, she is also a formidable courtier and player in what some aristocrats call the Grand Illusion. </div> </div> </div> <hr> <<if $lavinethate is true>><div class="my-progress-bar" data-type="lavinet" data-progress="0" data-after="HATED"><span></span></div> <<else>> <<showmeter '$lavinetbar' `$lavinet / 100`>> <</if>> <hr> <div class="character-status"> <span class = "character-card label">STATUS:</span> $lavinetstatus </div> </div><</if>> <<if $mimirjoin is true>><div class="character-card"> <div class="column-holder"> <div class="flex-column col-1 text-center"> <<if settings.characterart is true>> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/characters/mimirframe.png" width="85%" style="margin:10px 0px 0px 0px" /> <<else>><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/symbols/tarot_0054_wheel.png" class="" width="250px" height="250px" style="margin:10px 0px 0px 0px"/> <</if>> </div> <div class="flex-column col-2"> <div class="title-container"> <div class="title">Mimir Esthin</div> <div class="subtitle">The Seer</div> </div> <div class="description"> <span class = "character-card label">DESCRIPTION:</span> A $mimirtrait1 and $mimirtrait2 traveling Seer who claims to see and interact with ghostly phantoms of the future. To avoid having her senses overwhelmed, she often wears a veil to block out her mystical senses. She is on the hunt for her "sisters," who purportedly share similar powers. </div> </div> </div> <hr> <<if $mimirhate is true>><div class="my-progress-bar" data-type="mimir" data-progress="0" data-after="HATED"><span></span></div> <<else>> <<showmeter '$mimirbar' `$mimir / 100`>> <</if>> <hr> <div class="character-status"> <span class = "character-card label">STATUS:</span> $mimirstatus </div> </div><</if>> <<elseif settings.statbardisplay is true and $part gt 0>> <div class="character-card"> <div class="title-container"> <div class="title">Relationships</div> </div> <<if $bladehate is true>><div class="my-progress-bar" data-type="blade" data-progress="0" data-after="HATED"><span></span></div> <<else>> <<showmeter '$bladebar' `$blade / 100`>> <</if>> <<if $troublehate is true>><div class="my-progress-bar" data-type="trouble" data-progress="0" data-after="HATED"><span></span></div> <<else>> <<showmeter '$troublebar' `$trouble / 100`>> <</if>> <<if $tallyshate is true>><div class="my-progress-bar" data-type="tallys" data-progress="0" data-after="HATED"><span></span></div> <<else>> <<showmeter '$tallysbar' `$tallys / 100`>> <</if>> <<if $sheryhate is true>><div class="my-progress-bar" data-type="shery" data-progress="0" data-after="HATED"><span></span></div> <<else>> <<showmeter '$sherybar' `$shery / 100`>> <</if>> <<if $rielhate is true>><div class="my-progress-bar" data-type="riel" data-progress="0" data-after="HATED"><span></span></div> <<elseif $rieljoin is true>> <<showmeter '$rielbar' `$riel / 100`>> <</if>> <<if $chasehate is true>><div class="my-progress-bar" data-type="chase" data-progress="0" data-after="HATED"><span></span></div> <<elseif $chasejoin is true>> <<showmeter '$chasebar' `$chase / 100`>> <</if>> <<if $redhate is true>><div class="my-progress-bar" data-type="red" data-progress="0" data-after="HATED"><span></span></div> <<elseif $redjoin is true>> <<showmeter '$redbar' `$red / 100`>> <</if>> <<if $aylahate is true>><div class="my-progress-bar" data-type="ayla" data-progress="0" data-after="HATED"><span></span></div> <<elseif $aylajoin is true>> <<showmeter '$aylabar' `$ayla / 100`>> <</if>> <<if $halekhate is true>><div class="my-progress-bar" data-type="halek" data-progress="0" data-after="HATED"><span></span></div> <<elseif $halekjoin is true>> <<showmeter '$halekbar' `$halek / 100`>> <</if>> <<if $brionyhate is true>><div class="my-progress-bar" data-type="briony" data-progress="0" data-after="HATED"><span></span></div> <<elseif $brionyjoin is true>> <<showmeter '$brionybar' `$briony / 100`>> <</if>> <<if $lavinethate is true>><div class="my-progress-bar" data-type="lavinet" data-progress="0" data-after="HATED"><span></span></div> <<elseif $lavinetjoin is true>> <<showmeter '$lavinetbar' `$lavinet / 100`>> <</if>> <<if $mimirhate is true>><div class="my-progress-bar" data-type="mimir" data-progress="0" data-after="HATED"><span></span></div> <<elseif $mimirjoin is true>> <<showmeter '$mimirbar' `$mimir / 100`>> <</if>> </div> <</if>> <</nobr>>

<<profile_menu>> <span class="big">Names and Aliases</span> $firstname $surname<<nobr>><<if $part == 1>><br>Recruit<</if>> <<if $part >= 1>><br> $rank $firstname $surname<</if>> <<if $part >= 5>><br> $callsign<</if>> <<if $halfname is not "recruit" and $halfname is not $firstname>><br> $halfname<</if>> <<if $halfname2 is not "" and $halfname2 is not $halfname and $halfname2 is not $firstname>><br>$halfname2<</if>> <<if $formalwearhave is true or $part >= 5>><br>$falsename $falsesurname<</if>> <<if $part >= 5>><br><<if $gladiatortitle is "Butcher" or $gladiatortitle is "Reaper">>The $gladiatortitle<<else>>$gladiatortitle<</if>><</if>> <<if $ilvos is true>><br>Ilvos<</if>> <<if $part > 7>><br>Godchild<</if>> <<if $part > 8>><br>Kithma<br>Brightburner<br>Light of the World<</if>><</nobr>> <span class="big">Appearance</span> <<if $appearancedif is "">>A $appearance $gender Mage with $hairlength $hairtype $haircolor hair and $expression $eyecolor eyes.<<else>>A $appearance $gender Mage with $appearance2 $appearance3 $appearance4 $appearance5 $hairlength $hairtype $haircolor hair, and $expression $eyecolor eyes.<</if>> You're wearing <<print $clothes>>. <<nobr>> <<if $heritage is "Elf">> You have faintly-pointed ears as a result of your Elvish heritage.<<elseif $heritage is "Hunter">> You have a streak of white in your hair as a result of your Hunter heritage.<<elseif $heritage is "Ket">> You sport a small tattoo on the inside of your wrist as a result of your Ket heritage.<</if>><<if $formalwearhave is false and $goggles is true>> Your eyes are disguised by darkened goggles.<</if>><<if $clasp is true>> Your cloak sports a $clasppp clasp.<</if>><<if $coinscar is true>> Your palm bears a strange, eye-shaped scar.<</if>><<if $poesyring is true>> You wear a $ringmetal ring on your $ringfinger: it bears the insignia or $ringsymbol and holds a message inside that reads: "<i>$ringinscription</i>."<</if>><<if $cheekscar is true>> You have a pale, silvery scar stretching across your right cheek.<</if>><</nobr>> <span class="big">Background</span> Words of Power: $godspeaker Heritage: $heritage Education: $education Specialization: $specializationtitle Reputation: <<nobr>><<if $reputation > 100>>You have achieved legendary status, and are regarded as a hero and champion by all.<<elseif $reputation >= 90>>You have achieved fame and celebrity, and everyone knows your name. <<elseif $reputation >= 80>>You have made a strong reputation for yourself and are well-known in most circles, especially throughout Haven, where your name is murmured from the noblest households to the dingiest teashops in Ashtown. <<elseif $reputation >= 70>>Your name is a common household topic in Haven. <<elseif $reputation >= 60>>You are the subject of much gossip in Haven. <<elseif $reputation >= 50>>Some people are beginning to recognize you in the street. <<elseif $reputation >= 40>>A few people have heard of your name and deeds. <<elseif $reputation >= 30>>You have impressed a few people. <<elseif $reputation >= 20>>Almost no one knows you. <<elseif $reputation >= 10>>You have left a negative impression, if any at all. <<elseif $reputation < 10>>You have an extremely poor reputation, and if anyone recognizes you, it's only to throw you looks of scorn. <</if>><</nobr>> /* affinity <<nobr>> <<if $newgameplus>> <span class="big">State of the World</span> Blest <<opposed_stat "Order:" "Rebellion" $order>> Armies of Blest $army Hael Armies of Hael $demonarmy <</if>> <</nobr>> */ <span class="big">Status</span> <div class="box"><span class="column-1"><img src="https://i.imgur.com/NZTxWZr.png" class="status"></span><span class="column-2"><<showmeter '$healthbar' `$health / 100`>></span></div> /* Words of Power: Reputation: Order/Rebellion/ Armies of Blest: Armies of Hael: */ <span class="big">Traits</span> <div class="box"><span class="column-1"><img src="https://i.imgur.com/zoQuaeE.png" class="status"></span><span class="column-2"><<showmeter '$couragebar' `$courage / 100`>> <<showmeter '$intelligencebar' `$intelligence / 100`>> <<showmeter '$cunningbar' `$cunning / 100`>> <<showmeter '$charismabar' `$charisma / 100`>></span></div> <<opposed_stat "Heart of Gold:" "Will of Iron:" $compassionate>> <<opposed_stat "Soldier:" "Rebel:" $loyal>> <<opposed_stat "Theist:" "Skeptic:" $faith>> <span class="big">Skills</span> <<nobr>><<showmeter '$magicbar' `$magic / 100`>> <<if $part > 0>><br><<showmeter '$psionicbar' `$psionic / 100`>> <br><<showmeter '$arcanebar' `$arcane / 100`>> <br><<showmeter '$astralbar' `$astral / 100`>> <</if>><</nobr>> <<showmeter '$strengthbar' `$strength / 100`>> <<nobr>> <<if $possess_dagger is true>><<showmeter '$daggerbar' `$dagger / 100`>><</if>> <<if $possess_sword is true>><<showmeter '$swordbar' `$sword / 100`>><</if>> <<if $possess_bow is true>><<showmeter '$bowbar' `$bow / 100`>><</if>> <<if $possess_gun is true>><<showmeter '$gunbar' `$gun / 100`>><</if>><</nobr>> <<nobr>> <<if $pronounschoose is true>><br><center><<button 'Change Pronouns'>><<run Dialog.setup("Pronouns"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("Pronouns Stats").processText()); Dialog.open();>><</button>></center><</if>> <</nobr>> /* hide theist/skeptic, fix state of the world */

<span class="heading">Development</span> This game was created, written, programmed, directed, and produced by Lena Nguyen as an independent developer under the label <a href="https://linktr.ee/manifoldstudios">Manifold Studios</a>, assisted by a host of talented freelancers and volunteers who helped bring the game to life. The world and characters of //Shepherds of Haven// is based on Lena's unreleased novel series of the same name. Lena is a writer and game developer based out of the American Southwest (a fancier and cowboy-ish way of saying she's from Arizona). She loves building stories in the realms of science fiction and fantasy, and her debut novel, <a href="https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/651810/we-have-always-been-here-by-lena-nguyen/">WE HAVE ALWAYS BEEN HERE</a>, was published through Penguin Random House and DAW Books in the midst of developing this game. You can find more of Lena's social media below. <span class="fancylist"> * <a href="https://www.patreon.com/rinari">Patreon</a> * <a href="https://www.shepherdsofhaven.com/">Tumblr</a> * <a href="https://bsky.app/profile/lenanguyenauthor.bsky.social">Bluesky</a> * <a href="https://www.lena-nguyen.com/">Author Website</a> * <a href="https://manifold-studios.com">Studio Website</a> ---- <span class="heading">Programming</span> * Lead Programmer and Game Development: Lena Nguyen * Game Design: Lena Nguyen * UI Implementation and Programming: Lena Nguyen, Andraz Vene * Twine Translation: Lena Nguyen, Jeremy Conigliari * Technical Assistance: Artem Churyukin, Jason Conigliari <span class="subheading">Resources</span> * Twine SugarCube Template by <a href="https://ccrberus.itch.io/twine-sugarcube-template">cerberus</a> * Custom Macro Collection (v2.6.1) by <a href="https://twinelab.net/custom-macros-for-sugarcube-2/#/">Chapel</a> * Sugarcube 2 Sample Code by <a href="https://hiev-heavy-ind.com/Sample_Code/Sample_Code.html#Main%20Menu">Hiev</a> * Fawkes' Twine Resources by E.S. Fawkes ---- <span class="heading">Assets</span> <span class="subheading">Art</span> * Cover Art: <a href="https://www.awanqi.com/">Angela Wang</a> * Character Art: <a href="https://www.artstation.com/nocnoc">NocNoc</a>, <a href="https://www.artstation.com/zuzartii">Zuzanna Wużyk</a>, <a href="https://www.artstation.com/mafuriah">Martina Fari</a>, <a href="https://www.deviantart.com/frlic">Elena Firulyova</a>, <a href="https://www.artstation.com/leyrey">leyrey</a> * Map Art: <a href="https://ignifexgames.tumblr.com/">Alyssa Dietz</a>, <a href="https://www.artstation.com/uva">Carlos Cara Álvarez</a>, Nathan Messenger * Creature Art: <a href="https://www.instagram.com/Vlad.the.wizard/">Vlad the Wizard</a> * Logo Concept: <a href="https://featherxcrown.carrd.co/">Tiffany Yuet</a> * Background Art: <a href="https://www.instagram.com/studio3.2d/">Brian Flores</a> <span class="subheading">Music</span><span class="fancylist"> * Composer: <a href="https://ivanduch.com/">Ivan Duch</a> * Guest Composers: <a href="https://www.irenechanmusic.com/">Irene Chan</a>, <a href="https://soundcloud.com/michaeltjanaka">Michael T. Janaka</a> * Additional Music By: <a href="https://ivanduch.com/">Ivan Duch</a>, <a href="https://www.askiimusic.com/">ASKII</a>, <a href="https://incompetech.com/wordpress/">Kevin Macleod</a>, <a href="https://cyberleafstudio.com/">Cyberleaf Studio</a> * SFX: <a href="https://www.zapsplat.com/">zapsplat.com</a> ---- <span class="heading">Acknowledgements</span> Thank you first and foremost to my partner, Jeremy, whose boundless excitement, patience, support, and encouragement allowed this magical little world of mine to grow into what it is today. If not for his selfless willingness to jump in and assist the game in whatever way possible, whether as its business consultant or its code translator, the game would not exist in its current state. Many thanks to the people who first encouraged me in the early development of //Shepherds//, including Jazz, Bailey, Rose, JMH, and V, whose comments and feedback inspired and refined several early aspects of the game. Thank you to the special readers and fans who kept me motivated throughout the game's development with their kindness, friendships, inside jokes, in-depth discussions, and incredible fan creations; this game was sustained by the eagle-eyed code-divers, stalwart theorists, and passionate fellow creators who formed their own real-life Shepherds' Order through their incredible love and support of the game. Thank you to JMH and bi-stander for serving as moderators for the game's Discord server and for allowing our wonderful community to grow. Thank you very much for the support, help, and enthusiasm of all of the game's supporters, including the below Patrons, without whose patronage and generosity the game could not have been completed: <ul><li> Jacob Heid </li> <li> Hannah Bondy </li> <li> Jake Burton </li> <li> Reilly Leahy </li> <li> Lucas van den Berg </li> <li> Stephanie Leyendecker </li> <li> Evolène Dirksen </li> <li> L. Behrendt</li> <li> Liora Grey</li> <li> Grim</li> <li> Thanh Tran</li> <li> Lauren Galusha</li> <li> Angel Vallejo </li> <li> Mura Truong</li> <li> Malak Ibrahim</li> <li> Magdalena J.</li> <li> Renma N.</li> <li> Jordan Felts</li> <li> Cameron Lester</li> <li> Jessica Castillo</li> <li> Lisa Schwartz</li> <li> Valeria Cazarin</li> <li> J.B. Cousland</li> <li> Amanda Hammel</li> <li> Valerie R.</li> <li> Jian S.</li> <li> Gleizel R.</li> <li> Em Greaves</li> <li> Skylar S.</li> <li> J. McAuliffe</li> <li> Arternus</li> <li> G. Davies</li> <li> Ema M.</li> <li> Jodi H.</li> <li> Amna Siddiqi</li> <li> Ryley W.</li> <li> Rosie O.</li> <li> Robyn O. </li> <li> Moses V.</li> <li> Emily Reichmann</li> <li> Jessy E.</li> <li> René Rosé</li> <li> Ashley Maez</li> <li> N.B. Nguyen</li> <li> Miah F.</li> <li> Evelyn C.</li> <li> Anna R.</li> <li> Sydney V.</li> <li> Melissa T.</li> <li> Ezra W.</li> <li> Mary Ann Albarico</li> <li> Kim B.</li> <li> Ashley L.</li> <li> Dianna F.</li> <li> Jae L.</li> <li> Silas Hawthorne</li> <li> Leo Bennie</li> <li> Mariya Powers</li> <li> Luiza Faulhaber</li> <li> Yachire</li> <li> Tiara S.</li> <li> Alissa Cox</li> <li> Saf D.</li> <li> Lina Dor</li> <li> Andreah Pondoc</li> <li> Rachel Costa</li> <li> Elias R.</li> <li> Anita Chokbengboun</li> <li> Sophie Wu</li> <li> Yerin Kim</li> <li> Erin Wilson</li> <li> Jax Williams</li> <li> Ripley Smith</li> <li> Coslie</li> <li> Otto</li> <li> Ellie H.</li> <li> Autumn B.</li> <li> Jonah M.</li> <li> Alisha S.</li> <li> Heather D.</li> <li> Mara Lin</li> <li> Chelsea G.</li> <li> Helen Le</li> <li> Eszter Mezei</li> <li> Emily Cazarin</li> <li> Marissa Baker</li> <li> Natalie F.</li> <li> Derek Gunner Lee</li> <li> Sabrina N.</li> <li> Laura Wise </li> <li> Isabel S.</li> <li> Laurel M. </li> <li> Krysten M. </li> <li> Keisha R.</li> <li> Rhianna Davies-McCrorie </li> <li> Kimmy W.</li> <li> Jonathan Lussier</li> <li> Jes Medina </li> <li> Nix Davie </li> <li> Krissy A. </li> <li> Cailin Whitehead </li> <li> Sky Q.</li> <li> Laurel Davidson</li> <li> Lucy Roberts </li> <li> Yuugay </li> <li> Dominique Diaz </li> <li> Edwin Barnhill </li> <li> Crystal R. </li> <li> Lily Nguyen </li> <li> Leto Schneider </li> <li> La'Kyerah McDaniel </li> <li> Perlamarina de la Cruz </li> <li> Aeimon W. </li> <li> Jonathan Lioe </li> <li> Katelyn Anderson </li> <li> Anna C. </li> <li> Lily P. </li> <li> Sara M. </li> <li> Amelia Amador A. </li> <li> Marcelo Ferreira </li> <li> Nicole M.</li> <li> Yasmin P. </li> <li> Caitlyn L. </li> <li> Lynn S. </li> <li> Gigi M. </li> <li> Eden J. </li> <li> Luka Halbe </li> <li> Brit V. </li> <li> Tobi A. </li> <li> Bettina C.</li> <li> Sphinx </li> <li> Darian H. </li> <li> Nguyễn Thanh Thủy </li> <li> Amy Christina Lim </li> <li> Sierra L. </li> <li> Cgad </li> <li> Aster Holloway </li> <li> Andy B. </li> <li> Jennings R. </li> <li> Samara J. </li> <li> Mary A.G. </li> <li> Cristina M. </li> <li> Shelby S. </li> <li> Leslie C. </li> <li> Orlando Hurvey </li> <li> J S </li> <li> Alliebeemac</li> <li> K Y </li> <li> Jess G. </li> <li> Alyssa P. </li> <li> Quashaun H. </li> <li> Mayonga </li> <li> Chrissy Summers </li> <li> Sean B. </li> <li> Heather B. </li> <li> Colton Vance </li> <li> Lily Mengwasser </li> <li> H. N. Burns </li> <li> Jiwon Kang </li> <li> Joseph Deagan </li> <li> Kris Sendoa </li> <li> Katie R. </li> <li> Glen McHugh </li> <li> Yam S. </li> <li> Caitlyn L. </li> <li> Ollie P. </li> <li> Jennifer Wilson </li> <li> Renata G. </li> <li> Mark F. </li> <li> Meadow Dougherty </li> <li> Loni Turner </li> <li> Aspen </li> <li> Matilde Hellevik </li> <li> Karolina Bukowska </li> <li> Ashley Shim </li> <li> Kian H. </li> <li> Leah Murphy </li> <li> Ezra Rapport </li> <li> Jasper W. </li> <li>Tobias Almonicar</li> <li>Nikki T.</li> <li> Kerrie Appleby </li> <li> Minerva Chiang </li> <li> Miss Cellaneous </li> <li> Lily P. </li> <li> Malala </li> <li> Antonia W. </li> <li> SpectreCaro </li> <li> Mizmal</li> <li> Kayla H.J.</li> <li>Caleb T. </li> <li> kaiiano </li> <li> Oz V. </li> <li> Nick P. </li> <li> Lena A. </li> <li> Jia-Lin L. </li> <li> Honor G. </li> <li> Drakeye Quinn </li> <li> Paige G. </li> <li> Stephanie Soto </li> <li> Reese </li> <li> Michelle M. </li> <li> Allison M. </li> <li> Siena H. </li> <li> Pyre Ren </li> </ul>

Shepherds of Haven /* <<if $part is 0>>Prologue<<elseif $part is 1>>Chapter One<<elseif $part is 2>>Chapter Two<<elseif $part is 3>>Chapter Three<<elseif $part is 4>>Chapter Four<<elseif $part is 5>>Chapter Five<<elseif $part is 6>>Chapter Six<<elseif $part is 7>>Chapter Seven<<elseif $part is 8>>Chapter Eight<<elseif $part is 9>>Chapter Nine<<elseif $part is 10>>Chapter 10<<elseif $part is 11>>Chapter 11<<elseif $part is 12>>Chapter 12<<elseif $part is 13>>Epilogue<</if>><</nobr>> */

It seems you have completed this journey before. Would you like to activate New Game+? This will grant you up to two boons to aid in your adventure. ---- <center> <<button 'Yes, activate New Game+ mode.'>><<set $newgameplus to true>><<goto 'newgameplusconfirm'>><</button>> <<button 'No, play the game in Standard mode.'>><<goto 'prologue1.0.0'>><</button>> </center>

<span class="heading center">Select up to two boons.</span> ---- <span class="heading"><center>The Stone of Power</center></span><center><label><input type="checkbox" id="cb1" value="stoneofpower" class="chkGroup">  Select three player stats to max out at the beginning of the game.</label></center> <span class="heading"><center>The Stone of Friendship </center></span><center><label><input type="checkbox" id="cb2" value="stoneoffriendship" class="chkGroup">  Socializing with companions no longer consumes time on your days off.</label></center> <span class="heading"><center>The Stone of Wealth</center></span><center><label><input type="checkbox" id="cb3" value="stoneofwealth" class="chkGroup">  Receive ten thousand gold at the beginning of the game.</label></center> <<nobr>> <<script>> $(document).one(':passagerender', function (ev) { function selectiveCheck (event) { var i, checkedChecks = document.querySelectorAll(".chkGroup:checked"); $("#result").empty(); for (i = 0; i < checkedChecks.length; i++) { if (checkedChecks.length < max + 1) { $("#result").wiki($(checkedChecks[i]).attr("value") + " "); } else if (event.target != checkedChecks[i]) { $("#result").wiki($(checkedChecks[i]).attr("value") + " "); } } if (checkedChecks.length >= max + 1) return false; } var checks = $(ev.content).find(".chkGroup"); var max = 2; /* change this to change maximum checked boxes */ for (var i = 0; i < checks.length; i++) { checks[i].onclick = selectiveCheck; } }); <</script>> /* The stones you have selected are: <span id="result"></span> */ <</nobr>><center><<button "Confirm">> <<set $stoneofpower = $("#cb1").prop("checked")>> <<set $stoneoffriendship = $("#cb2").prop("checked")>> <<set $stoneofwealth = $("#cb3").prop("checked")>><<if $stoneofwealth is true>><<set $gold to 10000>><</if>> <<goto "newgamepluscheck">><</button>></center>

<<nobr>><<set _charismamax to false>><<set _cunningmax to false>><<set _couragemax to false>><<set _intelligencemax to false>><<set _magicmax to false, _astralmax to false, _arcanemax to false, _psionicmax to false, _strengthmax to false>><</nobr>><center><<if $stoneofwealth>><span class="heading">You selected the stone of wealth.</span> <br>You will receive 10,000 gold in your coin purse during this playthrough.<</if>> <<if $stoneoffriendship>><span class="heading">You selected the stone of friendship.</span> <br>Hanging out with companions no longer consumes time off during this playthrough.<</if>> <<if $stoneofpower>><span class="heading">You selected the stone of power.</span> <br>Please select three of the stats below. These will be set to their maximum threshold.<</if>></center> <div class="box ng"><div class="columns"><label><input type="checkbox" id="cb1" value="couragemax" class="chkGroup">  Nerves of Steel</label> <label><input type="checkbox" id="cb2" value="charismamax" class="chkGroup">  Silver Tongue</label> <label><input type="checkbox" id="cb3" value="intelligencemax" class="chkGroup">  Bright Mind</label></div> <div class="columns"><label><input type="checkbox" id="cb4" value="cunningmax" class="chkGroup">  Razor Wits</label> <label><input type="checkbox" id="cb5" value="strengthmax" class="chkGroup">  Physique</label> <label><input type="checkbox" id="cb6" value="magicmax" class="chkGroup">  Magic</label> </div> <div class="columns"><label><input type="checkbox" id="cb7" value="astralmax" class="chkGroup">  Astral</label> <label><input type="checkbox" id="cb8" value="arcanemax" class="chkGroup">  Arcane</label> <label><input type="checkbox" id="cb9" value="psionicmax" class="chkGroup">  Psionic</label></div></div> <<nobr>> <<script>> $(document).one(':passagerender', function (ev) { function selectiveCheck (event) { var i, checkedChecks = document.querySelectorAll(".chkGroup:checked"); $("#result").empty(); for (i = 0; i < checkedChecks.length; i++) { if (checkedChecks.length < max + 1) { $("#result").wiki($(checkedChecks[i]).attr("value") + " "); } else if (event.target != checkedChecks[i]) { $("#result").wiki($(checkedChecks[i]).attr("value") + " "); } } if (checkedChecks.length >= max + 1) return false; } var checks = $(ev.content).find(".chkGroup"); var max = 3; for (var i = 0; i < checks.length; i++) { checks[i].onclick = selectiveCheck; } }); <</script>> <</nobr>><center><<button "Confirm">> <<set _couragemax= $("#cb1").prop("checked")>><<if _couragemax is true>><<set $courage to 100>><</if>> <<set _charismamax = $("#cb2").prop("checked")>><<if _charismamax is true>><<set $charisma to 100>><</if>> <<set _intelligencemax = $("#cb3").prop("checked")>><<if _intelligencemax is true>><<set $intelligence to 100>><</if>> <<set _cunningmax = $("#cb4").prop("checked")>><<if _cunningmax is true>><<set $cunning to 100>><</if>> <<set _strengthmax = $("#cb5").prop("checked")>><<if _strengthmax is true>><<set $strength to 100>><</if>> <<set _magicmax = $("#cb6").prop("checked")>><<if _magicmax is true>><<set $magic to 100>><</if>> <<set _astralmax = $("#cb7").prop("checked")>><<if _astralmax is true>><<set $astral to 100>><</if>> <<set _arcanemax = $("#cb8").prop("checked")>><<if _arcanemax is true>><<set $arcane to 100>><</if>> <<set _psionicmax = $("#cb9").prop("checked")>><<if _psionicmax is true>><<set $psionic to 100>><</if>> <<goto "prologue1.0.0">><</button>></center>

<<if $part is 7 and $newspaper > 1>> You open your copy of <i>The Haven Herald</i>, a little afraid of what you're going to find. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "newspaper">><</link>></center> <<elseif $newspaper is 1>> You happen to walk past a group of recruits bent over a newspaper, most of them shaking their heads and scoffing incredulously. <br><br> "What's toward?" you ask them. <br><br> One of them, an Elf who joined around the same time you did, thrusts the paper at you. "<i>The Haven Herald</i>," he grunts, rolling his eyes. "Ashtown's most popular gossip rag. It's not an <i>official</i> newspaper, mind, but it toes the line just enough that the Autarchy doesn't bother cracking down on it. Run by some loon named Kortela Prym." <br><br> "She's very… opinionated," another Mage chimes in. "Still, it's a good way to keep abreast of the news around Haven." Her eyes dart around. "Especially without having total propaganda shoved down your throat." <br><br> The Elf, Tithus, grunts again. "Only because her articles are about two lines each. She can't afford the ink." <br><br> Curious despite yourself, you decide to glance at the newspaper. Its frail pages are already well-thumbed from the many hands it passed through around the compound. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "newspaper">><</link>></center> <<elseif $newspaper is 2>> You decide to read this week's newspaper over a nice cup of… <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'Khav, a coffee-like import from the southern isles.' 'drinknewspaper'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Tea, a rosy blend favored by nobles. Where did Shery get this?' 'drinknewspaper'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Honeyed milk. It\'s your childhood favorite!' 'drinknewspaper'>><</link>></li> <li><<link 'Fruit juice. It\'s fresh-squeezed and healthy.' 'drinknewspaper'>><</link>></li> <<if $heritage is "Elf">><<link '<div class="heritage-item">Vytas. They say it runs in the veins of all Elves. </div>' 'drinknewspaper'>><</link>><</if>> </ul> <<elseif $newspaper >= 3>> You unfold your copy of the newspaper, which seems to becoming more and more popular these days. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "newspaper">><</link>></center> <<else>> You unfold your copy of the newspaper, which seems to becoming more and more popular these days. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "newspaper">><</link>></center> <</if>>

Drink in hand, you decide to flip through the next issue of <i>The Haven Herald</i>. <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "newspaper">><</link>></center>

<<set $newspaperIssues to { activeIssue: 'part' + $part, // set this var in whatever issue you want to be active (the first article in each issue, will be displayed by default /* Add as many issues/Articles here. The first article in array will always be displayed first, the rest defiens before7after order ofr navigation */ issues: { part1: ['churchattack_article', 'localnews_1', 'internationalnews_1', 'gossipcolumn_1'], part2: ['equalistsrescue_article', 'localnews_2', 'internationalnews_2', 'gossipcolumn_2'], part3: ['localnews_3', 'internationalnews_3', 'gossipcolumn_3'], part5: ['localnews_4', 'internationalnews_4', 'gossipcolumn_4'], part6: ['localnews_5', 'internationalnews_5', 'gossipcolumn_5'], part7: ['localnews_7'], part8: ['localnews_8', 'internationalnews_8', 'gossipcolumn_8'], part9: ['localnews_9', 'internationalnews_9', 'gossipcolumn_9'], part9: ['localnews_10', 'internationalnews_10', 'gossipcolumn_10'], } }; >> /* First article from each issue will be displayed by default (we GO to it NOT include it), the rest is handled within 1_1_game_ui.js (next_newspaper & previous_newspaper event in porcessUIAction) */ <<goto $newspaperIssues.issues[$newspaperIssues.activeIssue][0]>>

<<newspaper_navigation >> <div class="headline"> <header>The Haven Herald</header> <div class="newspapersubhead">By Kortela Prym and Staff </div> </div> <center><span class="headline hl2"><i>In LOCAL NEWS</i></span></center> [Sorry, this section is not complete.] /* finish later */ /* something about the elven tree and black sun: Tallys is quoted?*/

<<newspaper_navigation >> <div class="headline"> <header>The Haven Herald</header> <div class="newspapersubhead">A Mirror of Truth </div> </div> <div class="headline"><span class="headline hl5">Mysterious Disappearances Plague Southern Coastal Town</span><p><span class="headline hl4">in INTERNATIONAL NEWS</span></p></div> <br><br><p></p> Staff members have been reported missing from a popular resort in Summersea, a small coastal town on the southern tip of the Continent, facing the Ivory Isles. Summersea is well-renowned for its natural hot springs, picturesque white-sand beaches, and famously mild weather, making it the perfect destination retreat for wealthy tourists, nobles, and even visiting diplomats and royals. However, these recent disappearances have begun to raise alarms, leading visitors to fear that the idyllic resort town may have been infiltrated by Endarkened... or worse. <br><br><p></p>

<<newspaper_navigation >> <div class="headline"> <header>The Haven Herald</header> <div class="newspapersubhead">By Kortela Prym and Staff </div> </div> <div class="headline"><span class="headline hl3">Rumor Has It</span><p><span class="headline hl4">YOUR NEIGHBORHOOD GOSSIP COLUMN</span></p></div> A secret letter was found near a popular shop in the Market Quarter, proclaiming the writer's undying love for the mysterious mapmaker known only as "the Golden Girl" as well as lamenting the doomed past ardor the writer felt for "the Quartermaster."The prose of the letter was remarkably strong and even heart-wrenching at times. ---- A young woman sleeping in a tent in the Shepherds' courtyard is rumored to be a fortune-teller of great renown. Those who have managed to enter the Shepherds' grounds to see her have confirmed that her powers seem to be as authentic and awe-inspiring as the rumors claim. If you happen to see her out and about in Haven, perhaps it wouldn't hurt to ask for a reading: the fortune-teller reportedly wears a veil and sports silver eyes. ---- A bookshop clerk is rumored to be considering leaving her fiancé after having fallen in love with one of her regular customers, a tall young man whom she can only refer to as "Longshanks with red hair." Her sister insists that "Longshanks" doesn't even know that the young lady exists. This writer implores the young man in question to keep to his books and leave vulnerable young hearts alone. <div class="headline"><span class="headline hl8">[SUBMISSIONS WELCOME]</span></div>

<<newspaper_navigation >> <div class="headline"> <header>THE HAVEN HERALD</header> <div class="newspapersubhead">Written, Edited, and Printed By Kortela Prym </div> </div> <div class="headline"><span class="headline hl5">Church Wedding Attacked! The Endarkened Threat Continues</span><p><span class="headline hl4">in LOCAL NEWS</span></p></div> <<nobr>> <<if $godspeaker <= 6>> <b>After a devastating attack on the sacred grounds, a grotesque statue of an Endarkened has appeared at the North Whitestone Church.</b> Children are even playing on it and tourists are having their portraits painted in its shadow! This worried writer asks: is no one concerned? And why aren't the so-called Shepherds policing such an abomination? <<else>> <b>A devastating attack occurred on the sacred grounds of the North Whitestone Church,</b> interrupting what promised to be an auspicious wedding between a young noblewoman and a minister of trade. This worried writer asks: where were the Shepherds? Was it not their duty to prevent this catastrophe? <</if>> <</nobr>> <br>

<<newspaper_navigation >> <div class="headline"> <header>The Haven Herald</header> <div class="newspapersubhead">Written, Edited, and Printed By Kortela Prym </div> </div> <center><span class="headline hl2"><i>More LOCAL NEWS</i></span></center> <b>Local augurs are complaining about the increasing animal sacrifices being left at churches to appease the One-God. </b>Who wants to step in blood on their way to pray? This writer suggests someone coming up with a new system. Some nice big bowls, perhaps? ---- <b>A new parlor called the Silk Pavilion has opened in the Market Quarter, specializing in afternoon tea.</b> Those with refined sensibilities would do well to try it—even Diminished are welcome! ---- <b>Census shows that summer is the most popular season for birthdays.</b> Don't forget to buy birthday presents for your loved ones and friends at your local shop: nothing's worse than being outed as forgetful! Worse comes to worst, though, you can always give them cash… ---- <div class="citation"><i>continued on page 5</i></div>

<<newspaper_navigation >> <div class="headline"> <header>The Haven Herald</header> <div class="newspapersubhead">Written, Edited, and Printed By Kortela Prym </div> </div> <div class="headline"><span class="headline hl5">Clashes in Elinden Stall Sailors</span><p><span class="headline hl4">in INTERNATIONAL NEWS</span></p></div> <b>A foreign barbarian king has been upsetting trade for the Autarchy.</b> The island-country of Elinden is a place of mystery to most humble Havenites and citizens of Blest. A warrior nation of untouched and wild beauty, this southern isle is said to be a land torn between different factions of Diminished and ruled by a cruel warlord who calls himself a king: Kaza Akshin, a ruthless Weather-Mage with as savage a sensibility as the rest of his people. Akshin calls himself the Lightning-Cutter, after his ability to call lightning during ocean storms, and he has been using this ill-begotten power to terrorize any ships who sail near his lands. For sailors who must restock their ships or risk perishing on the open seas, this presents a terrible question: risk the wrath of the Lightning-Cutter by setting foot on Elinden, or accept inevitable starvation? <br><br><p></p>

<<newspaper_navigation >> <div class="headline"> <header>The Haven Herald</header> <div class="newspapersubhead">Written, Edited, and Printed by Kortela Prym </div> </div> <<nobr>><<if $childrensafe is true>><div class="headline"><span class="headline hl5">Sinister Mage Cult Behind Recent Kidnappings</span><p><span class="headline hl4">in LOCAL NEWS</span></p></div> <br><br> <b>Missing children from Ashtown were rescued by Inquisitors. The culprits were a group of evil Mages bent on tormenting our young ones for occult purposes.</b> Details as to their motivations and methods are currently scarce, but it has been confirmed that this terrorist group was abducting young victims from Ashtown and Smoketown and holding them captive in a secret facility within the city's catacombs over the last several weeks. Thanks to the efforts of our law enforcement, the children have all been recovered safely and the Mages eliminated. Praise be to the Inquisitors! <<elseif $childrendead is true>><div class="headline"><span class="headline hl5">Sinister Mage Cult Behind Recent Kidnappings</span><p><span class="headline hl4">in LOCAL NEWS</span></p></div> <br><br> <b>The Shepherds failed to save a group of children who were kidnapped by an evil Mage cult bent on using our youth for their occult experiments.</b> As a result of the Shepherds' failure, all of the victims have sadly vanished and are presumed dead. This writer asks: what is the Order even for, if not to protect the young and innocent? Could their sluggishness in this case indicate a reluctance to persecute their own kind, even in the case of serial kidnappers? <<elseif $inquisitors is true>><div class="headline"><span class="headline hl5">Tavern Brawl Erupts Between Inquisitors and Shepherds</span><p><span class="headline hl4">in LOCAL NEWS</span></p></div> <br><br> <b>A bar fight at the Thirteenth Hour broke out the other night between unnamed Shepherd officers and Inquisitors.</b> It's currently unknown what provoked the dispute, but one thing is clear: trouble is brewing in the city, and the Shepherds always seem to be at the root of it all… <<else>> <div class="headline"><span class="headline hl5">Child Disappearances On the Rise in Ashtown: Abductions Suspected</span><p><span class="headline hl4">in LOCAL NEWS</span></p></div> <br><br> <b>Children continue to go missing from the districts of Ashtown and Smoketown, rousing the suspicions of the Vice Guard.</b> What was once thought to be a normal number of runaways has escalated to a level thought to be more consistent with deliberate kidnappings. Parents are cautioned to accompany their children wherever possible, and other adults are encouraged to keep their eyes peeled for any suspicious activities or strangers in their neighborhoods. Contact the Vice Guard for more information. <</if>><</nobr>> <div class="citation"><i>continued on page 2</i></div>

<<newspaper_navigation >> <div class="headline"> <header>The Haven Herald</header> <div class="newspapersubhead">Written, Edited, and Printed by Kortela Prym </div> </div> <center><span class="headline hl2"><i>More LOCAL NEWS</i></span></center> <b>The Thieves Guild has been terrorizing the Merchants Guild of late, ransacking their caravans and stealing luxury goods.</b> The last "Guild Wars" obliterated the city's markets for at least five years. Let us hope this conflict can be deescalated… Perhaps an impartial guild, such as the Scholars Guild, might serve as a mediator? ---- <b>An insidious drug named Black Sun has been circling the neighborhoods of late.</b> Parents: do not allow your children to sample any of this drug! It is highly addictive and even lethal, inducing sluggishness, catatonia, and oblivion to such a degree that some addicts will starve to death while caught up in its effects! ---- <b>The well on Bomba Street has been found to be contaminated with ash.</b> Although there has been a failure to erect signs, avoid drinking from it until further notice. ---- <b>Candle Day is approaching.</b> For those unaware, it is ancient tradition to weave a talisman or charm out of wood and flowers for a special person in your life on this holiday: be it a friend, parent, lover, employer, or otherwise. Each wood and flora type has a special meaning, and you can combine them to weave talismans of protection, good health, or even fertility. Although this practice has its roots in pagan beliefs, it has been sanctioned by our Golden One under her Tolerance Creed. ----

<<newspaper_navigation >> <div class="headline"> <header>The Haven Herald</header> <div class="newspapersubhead">Written, Edited, and Printed By Kortela Prym </div> </div> <div class="headline"><span class="headline hl5">Hunters Close Their Gates at the Reach</span><p><span class="headline hl4">in INTERNATIONAL NEWS</span></p></div> <b>Merchants destined for the Reach have returned to Haven, baffled by the Hunters' withdrawal.</b> After the last Uprising, the Autarch banished the Hunters from these lands and back to their native Reach, prohibiting trade with outsiders except for what was authorized by the Sun Court. However, the Consortium's merchants have just returned to the city, claiming the Hunters turned them away and refused to allow anyone into their mountain citadel, keeping the gates closed and their people locked inside. No Hunters were actually seen, their voices only heard as they turned the traders away and even threatened to drive them off with spears. What could they be planning? <br><br><p></p>

<<newspaper_navigation >> <div class="headline"> <header>The Haven Herald</header> <div class="newspapersubhead">Written, Edited, and Printed By Kortela Prym </div> </div> <div class="headline"><span class="headline hl3">Rumor Has It</span><p><span class="headline hl4">YOUR NEIGHBORHOOD GOSSIP COLUMN</span></p></div> Yarrow Hapstead claims a talking bird is flying around Ashtown. Yarrow is not a Mage or an Elf, making his claims even more unusual than they would normally be. He claims the bird is colorful and mischievous and wears a belled collar. ---- A baby girl was born to Jin and Keetha Lapul. Congratulations! ---- A dog has been digging up vegetables in the community garden on Hyx Corner. Whoever owns that dog, stop him! If he is a stray, your neighbors request that bystanders shoo him away. Please do not kill or poison! <div class="headline"><span class="headline hl8">[SUBMISSIONS WELCOME]</span></div>

<<newspaper_navigation >> <div class="headline"> <header>The Haven Herald</header> <div class="newspapersubhead">Written, Edited, and Printed by Kortela Prym </div> </div> <center><span class="headline hl2"><i>In LOCAL NEWS</i></span></center> <b>A local mapmaker was spotted breaking into Sun Court buildings yet again</b>. Said mapmaker was reportedly heard shouting "I'm just trying to do my job more accurately!" as she escaped, covered in glittering pigment and leaving a trail of golden ink behind her. Miraculously, Haven's local "Golden Girl" continues to elude the authorities. If you have any information regarding this eccentric miscreant, please contact this writer immediately. ---- <b>All Heroes Eve is approaching</b>. All Heroes Eve is a holiday dedicated to celebrating and remembering the lives of past heroes and important figures of history. It's believed that donning the clothes or accessories of these heroes will invoke their spirits on the sacred night, blessing the wearer and honoring the life of the hero they've assumed the guise of. A city-wide costume competition will be held in the Market Quarter at ten nightbell on the evening of! ---- <b>In recent months, there has been a significant increase in the number of stray cats found wandering the streets of our city.</b> Some attribute it to the growing population of Haven, especially as more citizens seek the safety of the city's defenses against the Endarkened; while others speculate that there may be other reasons behind this surge. Perhaps some sorcerer has tampered with the delicate balance of nature, causing the cat population to spiral out of control. (Mages and Elves, after all, are known to commune with animals in strange and unusual ways, so perhaps their increased presence has been drawing the felines in.) Whatever the case, although a stray cat population may seem like a nuisance, some observers report that the cats actually serve as a natural alarm system against the Endarkened: cats seem to be able to sense an Endarkened presence before other creatures do, and can send up such a coordinated caterwaul and commotion that it alerts nearby humans that something is amiss. For this reason, the stray cats have been largely left alone, though some animal welfare teams are striving to catch and neuter the males to prevent overcrowding and disease. ----

<<newspaper_navigation >> <div class="headline"> <header>The Haven Herald</header> <div class="newspapersubhead">Written, Edited, and Printed By Kortela Prym </div> </div> <div class="headline"><span class="headline hl5">Elinden King to Sail to Courtshore for Negotiations</span><p><span class="headline hl4">in INTERNATIONAL NEWS</span></p></div> After a sustained period of terrorizing Autarchy ships who dared to sail close to his island, the Elinden warlord known as the Lightning-Cutter King is sailing to Courtshore to enter negotiations with representatives of the Autarch. That his barbarian isle has not been invaded yet as a necessary show of force baffles political thinkers such as this writer's husband. Negotiations to ensue next moon. It is rumored that the king also intends to hold his impending nuptials at Courtshore's famous Gracia Castle, the site of many such marriages among rulers. Perhaps he intends to legitimize his reign by aping after the traditions of true kings? <br><br><p></p>

<<newspaper_navigation >> <div class="headline"> <header>The Haven Herald</header> <div class="newspapersubhead">Written, Edited, and Printed By Kortela Prym </div> </div> <div class="headline"><span class="headline hl3">Rumor Has It</span><p><span class="headline hl4">YOUR NEIGHBORHOOD GOSSIP COLUMN</span></p></div> Tansy Tangle (formerly Tansy Beton) wishes the community to know that her soon-to-be ex-husband is a cheating pigsticker. She also wishes to shame Hilde, her cousin. Shame! ---- Copper bracelet lost on the 18th somewhere between Thel and Jast streets, near the canal. Prize awarded if found! Visit our offices for owner's information. ---- Master Hestor Key is seeking an apprentice at his shoe shop in Market Quarter, on Tourquet Street. Tailoring or sales experience appreciated! <div class="headline"><span class="headline hl8">[SUBMISSIONS WELCOME]</span></div>

<<newspaper_navigation >> <div class="headline"> <header>The Haven Herald</header> <div class="newspapersubhead">A Mirror of Truth </div> </div> <center><span class="headline hl2"><i>In LOCAL NEWS</i></span></center> <b>A cluster of strange, floating lights was seen hovering far above Haven on the night of 31 Coppersun</b>. While the Vice Guard said there was no need for concern, and the Shepherds issued a statement that the phenomenon was neither Endarkened nor magic-related, many in Smoketown have become obsessed with uncovering the mystery of the inexplicable lights. How did they get so high up in the sky? Theories of shooting stars, floating lanterns, and experimental projectiles have all been discounted by experts. The lights were said to move and circle almost like mythical, fiery birds, leading many to dub them "the Phoenix Lights." ---- <b>Wintersun is approaching</b>. Wintersun is the biggest and most festive holiday of the winter season, a time when the entire community gathers and partakes in a feast that celebrates unity, good cheer, and the spirit of kinship. Traditionally, a giant honey cake is served, along with the confections known as fairy bread: fluffy buns filled with dyed custard, the color of which are said to portend your coming year. A festival will be held throughout the city on the night of Wintersun, with several community feasts open to the public taking place in Ashtown, Smoketown, and the Market Quarter (see page 6 for more details). Locations of baking competitions, dance halls, soup kitchens, and special holiday markets and sales are also found on page 7. Revelers are warned, as always, to avoid jumping in the canals naked as part of the festivities. Although it is supposedly "tradition" in order to cleanse the bad luck of the past year, one or two people always end up dying of hypothermia. How's that for bad luck, this writer asks? ---- <b>A well-known shoemaker, Furdein Bedu, has offered a small reward for any upstanding citizen who can return his missing shoe.</b> Bedu, who is retiring after many decades of creating the finest footwear in the Market Quarter, servicing aristocrats, laborers, and merchants alike, crafted a pair of wine-colored, calf-high laced riding boots, one of which has gone mysteriously missing. It is unclear whether the disappearance was caused by absent-mindedness or theft, but as it is the last pair Bedu intended to create as a professional shoemaker, he is offering a reward for anyone who can find the absentee boot and complete the set. Contact this writer or Furdein Bedu for more details. ----

<<newspaper_navigation >> <div class="headline"> <header>The Haven Herald</header> <div class="newspapersubhead">By Kortela Prym and Staff </div> </div> <div class="headline"><span class="headline hl5">Lightning-Cutter King Dead, Ship 'Dominance' Sunken and Destroyed</span><p><span class="headline hl4">in INTERNATIONAL NEWS</span></p></div> <b>Kaza Akshin, the Lightning-Cutter, ruler of Elinden and the Seven Isles, is dead.</b> His ship was set aflame en route to Courtshore during a great storm, and no survivors have been found. Preliminary investigations have concluded that the fire that caused the ship's demise was magical, though whether it was set by outside raiders, an assassin aboard the ship, or the king himself—for he was known to call lightning from the sky—remains unclear. A charred body matching his general description was recovered, but several of his famed accoutrements are missing and presumed stolen. What this means for Elinden, a land already ravaged by internal conflict, no one is quite sure. <br><br><p></p>

<<newspaper_navigation >> <div class="headline"> <header>The Haven Herald</header> <div class="newspapersubhead">By Kortela Prym and Staff </div> </div> <center><span class="headline hl2"><i>In LOCAL NEWS</i></span></center> <b>Endarkened creatures are raiding trash cans, stealing pies. </b> Reports from Ashtown claim that small Endarkened creatures, possibly furry Imps, have been terrorizing small neighborhoods at night. Although the monsters are said to be no bigger than knee-high, Endarkened are never to be underestimated; these specimes have been noted to either appear to be quite feral, or are capable of luring unsuspecting citizens in with innocuous, 'cute' appearances, even rolling over to expose soft, irresistible bellies. Concerned citizens report that these rabid beasts have pillaged their garbage cans, stolen pies off their window sills, and made a general mess of the neighborhood, running utterly amok. This writer asks: why have the Shepherds not dealt with such a perfidious infestation? Is this not their job? <i>Editor's note: The original run of this story, as written in its initial entirety, has been presented above. It has since come to the writer's attention that these creatures are not, in fact, demons, but raccoons. Caution is still advised when approaching the furry pests, who are noted by one expert to be "extraordinarily saucy." </i> ---- <b>Excavations at an ancient ruin site near Ambryn have unearthed a mysterious artifact believed to have been created by long-dead Mages.</b> The object's exact function is still unknown, but its discovery has sparked a fierce debate between magical scholars and experts (many of whom are eager to study it further) and the Autarch's Inquisitors, who argue that such an item cannot be left unpoliced. A hearing will take place in Ambryn later this month for both sides to pose their arguments to Ambryn's governor, Lord-Governor Rychard Dedham, under whose jurisdiction the artifact technically falls. ---- <<if ($prihinesafe is true or $bothsafe is true) and ($rielinvestigation is true)>><b>One Sun Court noble made waves by publicly donating one thousand deucalions to Diminished charities in Haven.</b> The noblewoman, Lady Prihine Ushala, is the widow of the late Minister of Trade, Turti Ushala. No one is sure why such a young newcomer to the Sun Court would risk making such a bold move, and it remains to be seen what repercussions may come about as a result of her actions. However, sources also claim that Lady Ushala is winning some supporters among certain Sun Courtiers, not least due to the sympathy she's garnered as a victim of her late husband's schemes and the grace with which she's borne them up. Although hers is not yet a commonly-known name, she may win yet more public favor when the citizenry of Haven learn that she has also donated some of her husband's fortune to clinics dedicated to helping the victims of Black Sun. <</if>> <br><br><p></p>

<<newspaper_navigation >> <div class="headline"> <header>The Haven Herald</header> <div class="newspapersubhead">A Mirror of Truth </div> </div> <div class="headline"><span class="headline hl5">Discovery of New Breed of Tainted</span><p><span class="headline hl4">in INTERNATIONAL NEWS</span></p></div> Out of the Realm-of-Ghosts has come a new terror to feed upon innocent civilians of the Autarchy: a banxe or Banshee, a kind of creature whose eyes emit an arresting red light to hold its victims still as it "sings" to them—or screeches. Its voice is said to cause madness and insanity in its victims. The appearance of this new Tainted creature (along with the emergence of more Shades out of the Waste) has indicated to experts that Endarkened activity is sure to increase on this side of the Continent soon. Batten down your hatches! <br><br><p></p>

<<newspaper_navigation >> <div class="headline"> <header>The Haven Herald</header> <div class="newspapersubhead">By Kortela Prym and Staff </div> </div> <div class="headline"><span class="headline hl3">Rumor Has It</span><p><span class="headline hl4">YOUR NEIGHBORHOOD GOSSIP COLUMN</span></p></div> <<nobr>><<if $bladeromanceflag >= 10>> According to an anonymous tip, rumors abound that a spy within the Shepherds is laying a curse on one of its high-ranking officers! This source states that a certain elite-level officer of the Shepherds appears to grow sick, feverish, and sweaty whenever in the proximity of another unnamed officer, slurring his speech and seeking the attention of a Healer with increasing frequency. What could be the cause of this malevolent disease? Is the unnamed female officer the source of some kind of curse? It seems we must wait and see. <hr> <</if>><</nobr>>Nine puppies available for adoption at local tavern. All are well-fed, extra cuddly, easily-trained, and appear to be of a mixed breed. If you don't mind puppies that smell of charch and gunpowder, contact Nessa at the Burning Crown for more information. ---- Sources say that notorious restauranteur Benthe Nobleoak received a nasty surprise last week when he finally came face-to-face with Jolanthe Trebedau, his harshest critic, Haven's most celebrated reviewer, and Nobleoak's sworn enemy... only to discover that they are in fact long-lost twin brothers! It is unknown if this revelation has affected Nobleoak's long-standing threat to "shoot Trebedau on sight if he were ever to show his vermin hide in one of my restaurants." ---- <div class="headline"><span class="headline hl8">[SUBMISSIONS WELCOME]</span></div>

<<newspaper_navigation >> <div class="headline"> <header>The Haven Herald</header> <div class="newspapersubhead">By Kortela Prym and Staff </div> </div> <center><span class="headline hl2"><i>In LOCAL NEWS</i></span></center> <<nobr>><<set $album to true>>/* FIX THIS, it should not be in the final version of the game fixit */<</nobr>><b>A new children's card game has been flooding the streets,</b> proving an overall nuisance to the adults of many districts as their children tear into tea tins and hot chocolate boxes, seeking the complimentary cards that are often packaged inside. Merchants would do well to stock up on these 'Rangers of Blest' cards while demand is high: sources assert that they sell for a very high price, though no one is exactly sure who manufactures these cards or where they come from. ---- <b>A scandal sheet entitled <i>Lady Tatler</i> has been circulating through the streets of Haven.</b> A mysterious personage only known by the nom-de-plume 'Lady Tatler' has been writing, printing, and distributing their own 'gossip rag': an editorial determined to divulge the secrets of Haven's elite, from the most reclusive nobles to the most vivacious actors, artists, and celebrities. Speculation over the identity of Lady Tatler has caused almost as much of a fervor as her shocking revelations have. Some readers have even written in to ask if <i>Lady Tatler</i> and <i>the Haven Herald</i> are written by the same person. While this writer is flattered by the comparison, she must also distinguish that she only prints articles that can be verified by a journalistic methodology; she also uses her real name, not a psuedonym. Regardless, we will be eagerly awaiting developments in Lady Tatler's story... as well as keeping our eyes out for the next issue of her tell-all scandal sheet. ---- <b>A stray dog saved two children during a house fire in Smoketown.</b> The dog, according to eyewitnesses, first raised the alarm by barking and dragging a passerby by the sleeve towards a window in a backalley, where smoke was beginning to appear from an untended kitchen fire. The sounds of the dog's barking also reportedly woke the children from their naps; once they noticed the growing blaze, they were able to escape with the help of the passerby, who declined to be named. After the children were rescued, the stray dog was rewarded with a steak from the children's father, who was out running an errand at the time of the fire. Luckily, no one was injured and no irreparable damage was done. <<if ($cainesafe is true or $bothsafe is true) and ($cainejoin is true)>> A young man claiming to be familiar with the stray claimed that the dog's name was simply "Good Boy."<</if>>

<<newspaper_navigation >> <div class="headline"> <header>The Haven Herald</header> <div class="newspapersubhead">A Mirror of Truth </div> </div> <<nobr>> <<if $hierophanttruth>> <div class="headline"><span class="headline hl5">Civil Unrest Erupts Across Continent, Starting in Heth Macoll</span><p><span class="headline hl4">in INTERNATIONAL NEWS</span></p></div> Following unsubstantiated rumors about the Western Hierophant's involvement in funding an underground gladiator's arena—among other, more serious blasphemies—riots and protests have sprung up all across the Continent, with the city of Heth Macoll at the epicenter of the violence. Blasphemers and nonbelievers have taken advantage of the chaos by vandalizing churches, defacing idols of the One-God, and calling for an investigation of the remaining Hierophants. This writer is not surprised that such chaos would stem from a city as corrupt and depraved as Heth Macoll, a known base of operations for sellswords, criminals, and liars. <<else>> <div class="headline"><span class="headline hl5">Capra: City of Sleeping Beauties, or Waking Nightmares?</span><p><span class="headline hl4">in INTERNATIONAL NEWS</span></p></div> Travelers from Capra insist that the city recently recovered from an unusual plague that induced sleeping, fatigue, and sometimes even coma-like symptoms. Theories have been offered ranging from substances in Capra's water supply, pollen from foreign flowers, and the movement of the moons. This writer posits the symptoms seem similar to the Grey Death, a pox that affects Elves. In a city like Capra, who is to say that another, similar disease has not developed among the high Diminished population? We can only hope such undesirables will keep well away from Haven. <</if>><</nobr>><br><br><p></p>

<<newspaper_navigation >> <div class="headline"> <header>The Haven Herald</header> <div class="newspapersubhead">By Kortela Prym and Staff </div> </div> <center><span class="headline hl5"><i>THE FIFTH AUTARCH, HER HOLINESS UPON THE HOLY, HAS JOINED THE ONE-GOD.</i></span></center> The Continent will enter a state of mourning for thirty-three days. Out of reverence for the Golden One, the rest of this issue will not be printed.

<<newspaper_navigation >> <div class="headline"> <header>The Haven Herald</header> <div class="newspapersubhead">By Kortela Prym and Staff </div> </div> <center><span class="headline hl2"><i>In LOCAL NEWS</i></span></center> <b>Ascension Festival to commemorate Enik Goldenson's new reign as Autarch.</b> The festival will be both a celebration of the past Autarch's life as well as a formal welcome to the new Golden One as he ascends to the Bright Throne. Preparations are being made so that all major cities across the Continent will celebrate together simultaneously, ending the night with a dazzling, coordinated fireworks display. ---- <b>Enik Goldenson creates several new positions in the Sun Court and Consortium.</b> The changes that the Firstborn is ushering in with his regime are innumerable, but most noticeable among them is the introduction of these new positions, including that of his Right Hand, Left Hand, and Court Mystic. It is currently unknown who will be filling these positions or what their responsibilities will entail, but sources from within the Sun Court assert that the Court Mystic will definitely be a Mage. ---- <b>Arsonist terrorizes Ambryn.</b> A serial arsonist has been terrorizing the nearby city of Ambryn, setting flame to important structures such as the city's Relay Rider station, a hospital, and a library. Ambryn's Vice Guard and the city's Fire Brigade have been struggling to catch the arsonist for months, but no attempts have unearthed anything about their identity thus far. This reporter prays that the fiend doesn't decide to try their luck here. <br><br>

<<newspaper_navigation >> <div class="headline"> <header>The Haven Herald</header> <div class="newspapersubhead">A Mirror of Truth </div> </div> <<nobr>> <<if $lockwood is "unity" or $lockwood is "new">> <div class="headline"><span class="headline hl5">Strange Beings Supposedly Seen in the North</span><p><span class="headline hl4">in INTERNATIONAL NEWS</span></p></div> <b>Travelers traveling south from Thielwood have reported that strange beings were seen in the area there, menacing farmsteads and homes, though no deaths have been reported.</b> Many travelers insisted that said beings were not Endarkened, but creatures made of fire, water, ice, and stone. However, the fiefdom of Lockwood has issued an official proclamation that no threat in the area exists, and that the roads are safe to travel. Mass delusion or perhaps bandit trickery may account for these strange reports. <<else>> <div class="headline"><span class="headline hl5">Strange Beings Seen in the North</span><p><span class="headline hl4">in INTERNATIONAL NEWS</span></p></div> Travelers traveling south from Thielwood have reported that strange beings were seen in the area there, attacking farmsteads and homes. Many travelers insisted that said beings were not Endarkened, but creatures made of fire, water, ice, and stone. With such a threat closing down roads and driving out residents, travelers are advised to avoid the Lockwood region and take alternate roads towards Fort Lagann. It seems only a matter of time before the army will be deployed to control the situation. <</if>><</nobr>><br><br><p></p>

<<newspaper_navigation >> <div class="headline"> <header>The Haven Herald</header> <div class="newspapersubhead">By Kortela Prym and Staff </div> </div> <center><span class="headline hl2"><i>In LOCAL NEWS</i></span></center> <b>A drunken brawl erupted at the popular tavern known as the Wolf's Den last Melarsday.</b> The chief culprits appeared to be two young women who were overheard losing their tempers after being harassed by a group of men. Rumors claim that the damage from the fight resulted in an entire wall of the tavern being levelled, and eyewitnesses even go so far as to say that one woman "tossed an offender into the air like a ragdoll" while the other "whipped his friend around using a current of wind." However, by the time this writer made it to the scene, the damages had already been miraculously repaired, casting doubt on the whole story. ---- <b>Hunters appear to be returning to Haven for the first time since the Uprisings that first banned their people from the city.</b> The exorcists, distinguished by their white hair, are sanctioned to be in the city if they have business with the Autarchy (proven by required documents they carry on their persons), or if they have joined of the swelling ranks of the Shepherds' Order. In this writer's opinion, citizens should not be alarmed by their reappearance, for, in fact, Hunters are some of our best defense against the Endarkened. ---- <b>Local play leaps onto the international stage overnight.</b> A play put on by the Haven Players entitled <i>The Hounds of Blest</i> first debuted during the Autarch's Ascension Festival. Although it was only intended to be performed for a limited time only, demand for the play has grown to such a fever-pitch that the troupe has now made it part of a traveling show that will tour all around the Continent for the next several months; they have even been invited to perform for a group of nobles at the royal palace in Kresh. Get your tickets now!

<<newspaper_navigation >> <div class="headline"> <header>The Haven Herald</header> <div class="newspapersubhead">A Mirror of Truth </div> </div> <<nobr>> <<if $thurlmercy is true and $thurlstory is false>> /* change later: $thurlstory is not a created variable yet, but this is basically if you let him live but refuse to tell the truth about his story to the Autarchy/authorities */ <div class="headline"><span class="headline hl5">Prisoner Escapes from Ashen Vault</span><p><span class="headline hl4">in INTERNATIONAL NEWS</span></p></div> <b>A mass murderer has escaped from the fortified prison known as the Ashen Vault,</b> a desolate fortress reserved for the Autarchy's worst criminals. Details regarding the criminal and his escape have not been released, and, strangely, even descriptions or sketches of his physical appearance have not been dispatched. Authorities at the Ashen Vault warn that the killer is capable, cunning, and extremely dangerous, having systematically murdered upwards of one hundred people in the Bleakmoor Marsh. One can only hope that the escaped convict will be spotted and apprehended again soon. <<else>> <div class="headline"><span class="headline hl5">Breakthroughs in Steam and Air Technology in the West</span><p><span class="headline hl4">in INTERNATIONAL NEWS</span></p></div> The first flight of a man-sized airship prototype successfully sailed two hundred feet before landing. Inventors say mass production is only a few years off. "Railroads"—long tracks of metal—being built through the frontier. Trains to someday follow. An exciting time to live in!<</if>><</nobr>><br><br><p></p>

<<newspaper_navigation >> <div class="headline"> <header>The Haven Herald</header> <div class="newspapersubhead">By Kortela Prym and Staff </div> </div> <div class="headline"><span class="headline hl3">Rumor Has It</span><p><span class="headline hl4">YOUR NEIGHBORHOOD GOSSIP COLUMN</span></p></div> The dispute lodged by opera singer Arabela Mezzis has been dropped following the firing of her new coworker, a cow. The cow has been replaced by its human understudy. Early critics predict that Miss Mezzis's role in forbidden romance <i>Son of Ygrath, Daughter of Haven</i> will win all of the year's best accolades. ---- A well-dressed young man solved a professor's years-long search for the solution to a logical theorem after coincidentally walking past said professor's classroom and overhearing his lecture. After delivering the answer to the stunned class, the young man refused to give his name and disappeared, climbing into a coach marked with the insignia for the Merchants'Guild. ---- A minor noblewoman has been rumored to join the Shepherds' Order. Said noblewoman is rumored to have no eyelashes and the face of a horse. ---- The criminal rogue known as Red Jack was reportedly discovered hog-tied, painted red, and hanging upside-down by the ankle over one of the canals in Smoketown. A strange, almost hieroglyphic-like symbol resembling a cat was also found drawn in red paint nearby. Red Jack was unharmed but humiliated, complaining that "the thief-lord" responded to his demand for a duel ungraciously. <div class="headline"><span class="headline hl8">[SUBMISSIONS WELCOME]</span></div>

<div class="headline"> <header>The Haven Herald</header> <div class="newspapersubhead">15 CAMOA, YEAR 21 OF THE ERA OF THE LAMPS - 1 Danar Per Copy </div> </div> <div class="headline"><span class="headline hl5">The Golden One Declares Formation of Shepherds</span><p><span class="headline hl4">in LOCAL NEWS</span></p></div> Today, we celebrate the founding day of our Autarchy. It has been two hundred years since the first Golden One ascended to power and established our glorious empire. On this day, the Golden One made a rare appearance before the people of Haven. She commemorated our people's intrepidness, courage, and ingenuity, citing the common folk as the true pillars of the Autarchy. She also addressed concerns over the increasing Endarkened presence in Haven and its outlying lands. The Autarch gave assurances that her Court Mages are working hard to understand the slow reappearance of demons throughout the Continent. She asks that the good people of Haven continue to have faith in the might of the Autarchy and to stand firm in the face of the enemies of our One-God. To that end, the Golden One has declared the formation of a special police force, dedicated to fighting the Endarkened and protecting Haven's citizenry. To the shock of many, the Golden One has acknowledged that this elite coalition—separate from the city's Vice Guard and the Autarch's Army of the Sun—will be composed of Diminished fighters loyal to the Autarchy. Although citizens showed consternation over the presence of a non-Norm fighting force in the city, the Autarch acknowledged that Elves, Mages, Ket, and even Hunters are the best-equipped soldiers to fight Endarkened monsters. She assures the populace that every step will be taken to ensure that these Diminished will <i>only</i> act in the best interests of the empire. They will serve as the front line against the demonic threat as well as any other crimes committed by traitorous Diminished; this will also prevent the needless deaths of our Norm soldiers, who are vital and needed on other fronts. The Autarch then introduced the enigmatic new commander of this Diminished army, a group the Golden One has deemed “the shepherds” who will protect her flock from the wolves who stalk our walls from the shadows… <div class="citation"><i>continued on page 2</i></div>

<<replace ".menu-flex">><<include "menu-flex">><</replace>> <<replace "#header-text">><<include "header-text">><</replace>> <<replace "#returnbutton">><<include "return to game">><</replace>> <<replace "#returntomenu">><<include "return to menu">><</replace>>

<<nobr>> /* adjust <nobr> to adjust margins */ <script>var myDiv = document.getElementById('passages'); myDiv.scrollTop = 0;</script> <script>document.getElementById("myBar").style.height = 0 + "%";</script> <<if tags().includes('autosave')>><<if settings.notifications is true>><<notify 3000>> Recording Your<br> Journey... <span class="fas fa-feather-alt"></span><</notify>><</if>><</if>><</nobr>>

<<if tags().includes('noreturn')>> <<link '<div class="choicereturn"><span>Return to Game</span></div>' $return>><</link>> <<elseif tags().includes('returntodayoff')>> <<link '<div class="choicereturn"><span>Return</span></div>' 'dayoff'>><</link>> <<elseif tags().includes('wardrobe')>> <<link '<div class="choicereturn"><span>Return</span></div>' 'room'>><</link>> <</if>>

<<if tags().includes('codex-entry')>><a title="Return to Codex"><<link '<div class="headerreturn"><span class="fas fa-book-open"></span></div>' "Documents">><</link>></a><</if>> <<if tags().includes('character-entry')>><a title="Return to Characters"><<link '<div class="headerreturn"><span class="fas fa-book-open"></span></div>' "Character Guide">><</link>></a><</if>> <<if tags().includes('tutorial-entry')>><a title="Return to Tutorials"><<link '<div class="headerreturn"><span class="fas fa-book-open"></span></div>' "Tutorials">><</link>></a><</if>> <<if tags().includes('profile-tab')>><a title="Return to Profile"><<link '<div class="headerreturn"><span class="fas fa-crown"></span></div>' "Profile">><</link>></a><</if>> <<if tags().includes('document-category')>><a title="Return to Documents"><<link '<div class="headerreturn"><span class="fas fa-book-open"></span></div>' "Documents">><</link>></a><</if>> /* <<if tags().includes('culture-entry')>><a title="Return to Documents"><<link '<div class="headerreturn"><span class="fas fa-book-open"></span></div>' "Culture">><</link>></a><</if>> <<if tags().includes('religion-entry')>><a title="Return to Documents"><<link '<div class="headerreturn"><span class="fas fa-book-open"></span></div>' "Religion">><</link>></a><</if>> <<if tags().includes('history-entry')>><a title="Return to Documents"><<link '<div class="headerreturn"><span class="fas fa-book-open"></span></div>' "History">><</link>></a><</if>> <<if tags().includes('story-entry')>><a title="Return to Documents"><<link '<div class="headerreturn"><span class="fas fa-book-open"></span></div>' "Story">><</link>></a><</if>> <<if tags().includes('endarkened-entry')>><a title="Return to Documents"><<link '<div class="headerreturn"><span class="fas fa-book-open"></span></div>' "Endarkened">><</link>></a><</if>> */ <<if tags().includes('tradingcards')>><a title="Return to Inventory"><<link '<div class="headerreturn"><span class="fas fa-book-open"></span></div>' "Inventory">><</link>></a><</if>>

<div class="menu-item" onclick="toggleMenu(header)"><a data-passage="Profile"><i class="far fa-star"></i> profile  </a></div> <div class="menu-item" onclick="toggleMenu(header)"><a data-passage="Relationships"><span class="fas fa-heart"></span> relationships  </a></div> <div class="menu-item" onclick="toggleMenu(header)"><a data-passage="Documents"><span class="fas fa-book-open"></span> codex  </a></div> <div class="menu-item"><<link '<span class="lnr lnr-hourglass"></span> saves'>><<script>>UI.saves()<</script>><</link>>  </div> <div class="menu-item"><<link '<span class="lnr lnr-cog"></span> settings'>><<script>>UI.settings()<</script>><</link>>  </div> <div class="menu-item"><<link '<span class="lnr lnr-moon"></span> restart'>>/* <<script>>UI.restart()<</script>>*/ <<script>> Dialog.setup("Restart"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("restart").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>><</link>>  </div>

The quest board can be checked at any time during your days off. <b>Jobs</b> are tasks that will be attempted immediately and consume one segment of your available time to complete. Some jobs allow you to attempt them more than once if you don't succeed the first time, while others can only be attempted once. <b>Quests</b> are long-standing assignments or requests that you can only complete as you progress through the main story. They do not consume time to accept or complete. However, if you miss a quest objective while playing the story, its deadline will pass and you will subsequently not be able to complete the quest. <center><<button 'Confirm'>><<run Dialog.close()>><</button>></center>

<<set $jobs.barista.is_completed to true>> This job has not been written yet. [[Quests]]

This job has not been written yet.

<<if $tangrieljournal is false>> You have not found the items necessary to complete this request. <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Return</span></div></div>' "Quests">><</link>></center> <<else>> /* questcontent */ <</if>>

<<quest_print "thespian" "job" "">>

<<quest_print "riddlemaster1" "job" "">>

<<quest_print "weaponsmasterhirai" "job" "">>

<<quest_print "bravelittlebunny" "job" "">>

<<quest_print "puppylove" "job" "">>

<<quest_print "twintelepathy" "job" "">>

<<quest_print "fakepartner" "job" "">>

<<quest_print "baker" "job" "">>

<<quest_print "lucius" "job" "">>

<<quest_print "godfather" "job" "">>

<<quest_print "bladejoy" "job" "">> /* DEFINE QUESTS BELOW*/

<<quest_print "flower_collection" "quest" "">>

<<quest_print "helpvivek" "quest" "helpvivek">>

<<quest_print "toycollector" "quest" "">>

/* IMPORTANT! -> to have checkmarks appear next to links, make sure to set the isCompleted tag in tabLinks to false or true (can be based on conditions) @Lena -> Note: This could be generalized better, i.e. to have tabLinks be read dynamically from $quests & $jobs variables, but this is simpler to reuse. Wouldn't be much work to rework that way if needed */ <<set $queststart to true>> <<if $visitingquestsfirsttime is false>><<set $visitingquestsfirsttime to true>><<run Dialog.setup("Tutorial"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("questtutorial").processText()); Dialog.open();>> <</if>> <<set $navigationLinks to { jobs: { tabKey: "jobs", tabName: "JOBS", tabLinks: [ {hideItem: false, isCompleted: $jobs.baker.is_completed, isAccepted: $jobs.baker.is_accepted, name: $jobs.baker.title, passageTag: "job_baker"}, {hideItem: false, isCompleted: $jobs.fakepartner.is_completed, isAccepted: $jobs.fakepartner.is_accepted, name: $jobs.fakepartner.title, passageTag: "job_fakepartner"}, {hideItem: false, isCompleted: $jobs.lucius.is_completed, isAccepted: $jobs.lucius.is_accepted, name: $jobs.lucius.title, passageTag: "job_lucius"}, {hideItem: false, isCompleted: $jobs.godfather.is_completed, isAccepted: $jobs.godfather.is_accepted, name: $jobs.godfather.title, passageTag: "job_godfather"}, {hideItem: $chandry < 5, isCompleted: $jobs.thespian.is_completed, isAccepted: $jobs.thespian.is_accepted, name: $jobs.thespian.title, passageTag: "job_thespian"}, {hideItem: false, isCompleted: $jobs.riddlemaster1.is_completed, isAccepted: $jobs.riddlemaster1.is_accepted, name: $jobs.riddlemaster1.title, passageTag: "job_riddlemaster1"}, {hideItem: false, isCompleted: $jobs.weaponsmasterhirai.is_completed, isAccepted: $jobs.weaponsmasterhirai.is_accepted, name: $jobs.weaponsmasterhirai.title, passageTag: "job_weaponsmasterhirai"}, {hideItem: $cainejoin is false and $part < 6, isCompleted: $jobs.bravelittlebunny.is_completed, isAccepted: $jobs.bravelittlebunny.is_accepted, name: $jobs.bravelittlebunny.title, passageTag: "job_bravelittlebunny"}, {hideItem: $cainejoin is false and $album is true, isCompleted: $jobs.puppylove.is_completed, isAccepted: $jobs.puppylove.is_accepted, name: $jobs.puppylove.title, passageTag: "job_puppylove"}, {hideItem: false, isCompleted: $jobs.twintelepathy.is_completed, isAccepted: $jobs.twintelepathy.is_accepted, name: $jobs.twintelepathy.title, passageTag: "job_twintelepathy"}, {hideItem: $blade < 70 or $bladeromanceflag < 5, isCompleted: $jobs.bladejoy.is_completed, isAccepted: $jobs.bladejoy.is_accepted, name: $jobs.bladejoy.title, passageTag: "job_bladejoy"}, ] }, quests: { tabKey: "quests", tabName: "QUESTS", tabLinks: [ {hideItem: $part > 4 and $tangrielknow is false, isCompleted: $quests.helpvivek.is_completed, isAccepted: $quests.helpvivek.is_accepted, name: $quests.helpvivek.title, passageTag: "quest_helpvivek"}, {hideItem: false, isCompleted: $quests.flower_collection.is_completed, isAccepted: $quests.flower_collection.is_accepted, name: $quests.flower_collection.title, passageTag: "quest_flower_collection"}, {hideItem: false, isCompleted: $quests.toycollector.is_completed, isAccepted: $quests.toycollector.is_accepted, name: $quests.toycollector.title, passageTag: "quest_toycollector"}, ] } }>> <<journal_holder $navigationLinks "quests-holder fit-to-passages-holder">>

Are you sure you want to restart? All unsaved progress will be lost. <br><br> <center><<button "Restart">> /* <<run localStorage.setItem('restarted', 'true')>> */ <<run Engine.restart()>> <</button>>     <<button "Cancel">> <<run Dialog.close()>> <</button>></center>

<<if $shopvisit is 0 and $shopspent is false>> <<include "chandry1">> <<elseif $shopvisit is 1 and $shopspent is false>> <<include "chandry2">> <<elseif $shopvisit is 2 and $shopspent is false>> <<include "chandry3">> <<elseif $shopvisit is 3 and $shopspent is false>> <<include "chandry4">> <<elseif $shopvisit >= 4 and $part is 5 and $chandry > 1 and $shopspent is false>> <<include "chandry5">> <<elseif $shopvisit is 4>> <<include "chandry5.5">> <<elseif $shopvisit is 5 and $shopspent is false and $chandry gt 1>> <<include "chandry7">> /* gambling */ <<elseif $shopvisit is 6 and $shopspent is false>> <<include "chandry6">> <<elseif $shopvisit is 7 and $shopspent is false>> <<include "chandry8">> <<elseif $shopvisit is 8 and $shopspent is false>> <<include "chandry9">> <<elseif $shopvisit is 9 and $shopspent is false and $newspaper >= 3>> <<include "chandry10">> /* <<elseif $shopvisit == 10 and $shopspent is false>> <<include 'chandry11'>> needs one last thingy here! */ <<elseif $shopvisit > 9 and $shopspent is false>> <<include "chandry12">> <<else>> <<goto 'Shop'>> <</if>>

You've heard that there's a shopkeeper in the Market Quarter who will sell an array of items to the Shepherds at a discount. What was the name of their stand…? "Oh, that's Chandry's Ends and Oddities," Shery tells you when you ask her. She grimaces sheepishly. "I'd… be careful, if I were you. Chandry is a staunch ally of the Shepherds' Order, but he tends to be… eccentric. He'll give extravagant discounts to some, but hold subtle grudges against others. Still, you can find some very unique things there." <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "chandry1.1">><</link>></center>

The Market Quarter is bustling with people today. As you shoulder your way through the crowd, you spot Chandry's Ends and Oddities, a colorful little stall on the end of a row of exotic shops. A jester has been hired to dance and twirl ribbons in front of the stall to attract the attention of passerby. A sizable crowd has gathered just to watch the clown's gyrations. As you walk past him, he says, "<i>Would the little bird like to purchase a tweet</i>?" <ul class="choices"> <li><<link 'You ignore him, not wanting to be drawn into the clown\'s antics. ' 'ignorechandrysantics'>><<set $chandry -=1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"I\'m not a bird..."' 'imnotabirdchandry'>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Get away from me, idiot."' 'getawayfrommeidiot'>><<set $chandry -=2>><<setcompassionate -1>><</link>></li> <li><<link '"Sure, I\'ll have a tweet. How much?"' 'howmuchforatweet'>><<set $chandry +=1>><<setcharisma +1>><</link>></li> </ul>

You walk past the clown, suppressing the urge to roll your eyes. The stall is empty for now, so you take your time loitering and browsing among the items until Chandry comes back. …Imagine your surprise when the clown takes a break from his frenetic dancing to come and stand behind the stall with you. "Welcome to Chandry's Bends and Boddities," he says, showing his teeth in an unconvincing smile. Strangely enough, his voice drips and oozes with the aristocratic accent of the gentry. It's either a perfect imitation, or Chandry is someone noble-born. "What can I do for you?" Oh. Chandry is the clown. <<include "chandryover">>

The clown laughs and hops from foot to foot. "That's true, that's true," he crows. "You're more like a dog. A lapdog, a sheepdog! Or a wolf in sheep's clothing?" "Sure…" You smile and back away from the clown. Slowly. Eventually he takes a break from his gyrations to come and join you behind the shop's stall. "Welcome to Chandry's Bends and Boddities," he chirps, his eyes shining. "What can I do for you?" Oh. Chandry is the clown. <<include "chandryover">>

The clown's expression doesn't change. "Fly away, little bird, fly away!" he shouts as you walk away, to the titters of the watching crowd. Later, he comes and joins you behind the stall of the shop. "Welcome to Chandry's Ends and Oddities," he says, in a very different voice from before. When you stare at him, he shows all of his teeth in an expression you can't quite call a smile. Behind the facepaint you can see that his eyes are grey and serious, and his features seem vaguely… aristocratic? "You're Chandry?" you ask in disbelief. He bows. "The one and only. What can I do for you today?" <<include "chandryover">>

The clown is delighted that you've decided to play along. He hops from foot to foot, whistles, and then pulls out a small bluebird from his sleeve! "Magic for a magical being," he says, proffering the bird. It flies away before you can touch it. You smile. "Thank you." Later, the clown takes a break from his performance to join you behind the stall of the shop. "Welcome to Chandry's Bends and Boddities," he says, giving you a deep bow. "I am Chandry. How can I help you?" <<include "chandryover">>

Chandry is busy tying his bootlaces when you arrive. Suddenly he straightens and addresses you as if you'd been talking all along. "Tell me," he says. "Which streets do ghosts haunt?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"...the streets with the most graveyards on them?"</div>' 'autogenerated_69152'>><<set $chandry += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"...you know ghosts don't exist, right?"</div>' 'autogenerated_69153'>><<set $chandry -= 2>><</link>> <<if $intelligence gte 20>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"...dead ends?"</div>' 'autogenerated_69154'>><<setintelligence +1>><<set $chandry += 2>><</link>><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

Chandry smiles. "Not quite, but good enough. How can I help you?" <<include 'chandryover'>>

Chandry turns away with a snort and an eye roll, as if <i>you're</i> the crazy one. "My wares are open for your perusal," he drawls lazily. <<include 'chandryover'>>

Chandry beams. "Correct! I always knew you were the hero Haven needed. Now, how can I help you?" <<include 'chandryover'>>

When you arrive at the shop, Chandry thrusts a tiny, ornate box into your hands. "Don't open that," he instructs you sternly. "There are flickerflies in it, and I had a devil of a time catching them!" You blink. "So why are you giving them to me?" He rolls his eyes. "Because they want to warm hands other than mine, of course!" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Continue holding the box of flickerflies.</div>' 'autogenerated_69155'>><<set $chandry += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Open the box.</div>' 'autogenerated_69156'>><<set $chandry += 2>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Pass the box back to Chandry. </div>' 'autogenerated_69157'>><<set $chandry -=2>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

One minute passes, then two. Finally Chandry beams and takes the box back. "Thank you. Now, how can I help you?" <<include 'chandryover'>>

Chandry's eyes widen, but he doesn't say anything as the flickerflies escape in a stream of light. Then he smiles and says, "I see—you wanted to prolong my fun in catching them. I get to start all over now. Well done!" He beams at you. "How can I help you?" <<include 'chandryover'>>

Chandry frowns at you, but takes the box back. "They only wanted to be your friends," he mutters. Then he puts the box away and turns back to you with a sigh. "How can I help you?" <<include 'chandryover'>>

<<nobr>><<set $album to true>>/* FIX THIS, remove it in the final version fixit */<</nobr>>Chandry's clearly excited to see you as you walk up to his stall. He bounces on his feet and proclaims, "$rank $surname! I have a gift for you!" You raise your eyebrows. "A gift?" He points at your throat. "I noticed last time that the clasp of your cloak was looking worn—it's about to break, yes?" You glance down at the silver clasp in question. You <i>have</i> noticed that its hinge seems about to give… Chandry beams and holds out a lacquered case: inside are many clasps, of all shapes and sizes. "Choose one," he urges. "For your service." <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"What's the catch?"</div>' 'autogenerated_69158'>><<set $chandry -= 1>><<set $clasp to true>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Oh, I couldn't..."</div>' 'autogenerated_69159'>><<set $clasp to true>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Really? Thank you, Chandry!"</div>' 'autogenerated_69160'>><<set $chandry += 1>><<set $clasp to true>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

The clown looks a bit hurt. "No catch, no catch," he insists. "A free gift for my Shepherd friend, that's all!" <<include 'chooseclasp'>>

The clown practically shoves the case at you. "You will," he insists. "A free gift is the best gift of all!" <<include 'chooseclasp'>>

His smile turns even wider. "Of course," he says, bobbing up and down. "A gift for my Shepherd friend, on me!" <<include 'chooseclasp'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">I'll take the simple silver clasp closest to the one it's replacing, in the shape of a baroque swirl.</div>' 'autogenerated_69161'>><<set $claspp to "a practical and functional swirl">><<set $clasppp to "silver">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">I'll take the gold leaf, ornate and wrought in an Elvish design.</div>' 'autogenerated_69162'>><<set $claspp to "an emblem of the Elves">><<set $clasppp to "gold leaf">><<settallys +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">I'll take the copper winged eagle, a pure and shining Hunter design.</div>' 'autogenerated_69163'>><<set $claspp to "an emblem of the Hunters">><<set $clasppp to "golden eagle">><<sethalek +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">I'll take the white platinum dragons with glittering eyes, a fantastical Mage design.</div>' 'autogenerated_69164'>><<set $claspp to "an emblem of the Mages">><<set $clasppp to "white dragon">><<setred +1>><<setayla +1>><<setbriony +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">I'll take the cobalt spear, a sharp and striking Ket design.</div>' 'autogenerated_69165'>><<set $claspp to "an emblem of the Ket">><<set $clasppp to "black spear">><<setblade +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">I'll take the bronze sun, a simple but devout Norm design. </div>' 'autogenerated_69166'>><<set $claspp to "an emblem of the Norms and the One-God">><<set $clasppp to "bright sun">><<setshery +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">I'll take the titanium moon and stars, a flashy and mysterious design. </div>' 'autogenerated_69167'>><<set $claspp to "an emblem of mystery and intrigue">><<set $clasppp to "moon and stars">><<setchase +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">I'll take the grey-iron wolves locked together in a fierce and intimidating design.</div>' 'autogenerated_69168'>><<set $claspp to "an emblem of ferocity and strength">><<set $clasppp to "iron wolf">><<settrouble +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">I'll take the rose-gold rose clasp, a romantic and aesthetic design.</div>' 'autogenerated_69169'>><<set $claspp to "an emblem of romance and beauty">><<set $clasppp to "rose-gold flower">><<setlavinet +1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">I choose whatever my hand randomly lands on.</div>' 'autogenerated_69170'>><<set $claspy to random(1,3)>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"Oh," Chandry says, as if disappointed. "What a…. practical choice. Fine, then." He snaps shut the case and turns back to his wares. "Ahem. What do you need?" <<include 'chandryover'>>

<<nobr>><<if $heritage is "Elf">> It's a very fitting emblem of your heritage, which you'll display proudly to anyone who knows what the clasp means. <br><br><</if>><</nobr>> Chandry beams, as if pleased by your choice, and snaps the case shut. "A fine choice," he says, turning back to his wares. "Now, then—what do you need?" <<include 'chandryover'>>

<<nobr>><<if $heritage is "Hunter">> It's a very fitting emblem of your heritage, which you'll display proudly to anyone who knows what the clasp means. <br><br><</if>><</nobr>> Chandry beams, as if pleased by your choice, and snaps the case shut. "A fine choice," he says, turning back to his wares. "Now, then—what do you need?" <<include 'chandryover'>>

It's a very fitting emblem of your heritage, even if everyone can see your eyes. Chandry beams, as if pleased by your choice, and snaps the case shut. "A fine choice," he says, turning back to his wares. "Now, then—what do you need?" <<include 'chandryover'>>

<<nobr>><<if $heritage is "Ket">> It's a very fitting emblem of your heritage, which you'll display proudly to anyone who knows what the clasp means. <br><br><</if>><</nobr>> Chandry beams, as if pleased by your choice, and snaps the case shut. "A fine choice," he says, turning back to his wares. "Now, then—what do you need?" <<include 'chandryover'>>

<<nobr>><<if $heritage is "NNorm">> It's a very fitting emblem of your heritage, which you'll display proudly to anyone who knows what the clasp means. <br><br><</if>><</nobr>> Chandry beams, as if pleased by your choice, and snaps the case shut. "A fine choice," he says, turning back to his wares. "Now, then—what do you need?" <<include 'chandryover'>>

Chandry nods vigorously. "Oh, yes, you'll look very enigmatic and majestic with this," he notes, handing you the clasp. Then he shuts the case up and beams. "Now, then. What do you need?" <<include 'chandryover'>>

Chandry nods vigorously. "Oh, yes, people will know to fear you when you walk up," he notes, handing you the clasp. Then he shuts the case up and beams. "Now, then. What do you need?" <<include 'chandryover'>>

Chandry nods vigorously. "Oh, yes, this is all the rage in the southern courts," he notes, handing you the clasp. "Very fashionable." Then he shuts the case up and beams. "Now, then. What do you need?" <<include 'chandryover'>>

<<nobr>> <<if $claspy is 1>> <<set $claspp to "a very cute item">> <<set $clasppp to "pink hearts">> Your hand lands on a pair of rose-gold hearts. Chandry stares. "How cute," is all he says. Then he snaps the case shut, before you have any time to change your mind. "Now, then. What do you need?" <<elseif $claspy is 2>> <<set $claspp to "an emblem of strength and endurance">> <<set $clasppp to "silver tree">> Your hand lands on the clasp of an iron tree. Chandry nods. "A symbol of strength and endurance," he notes. Then he snaps the case shut, before you have any time to change your mind. "Now, then. What do you need?" <<else>> <<set $claspp to "an onimous and sinister emblem">> <<set $clasppp to "devouring serpent">> Your hand lands on the silver emblem of a snake devouring its tail. Chandry stares. "An ill omen," he notes. "Don't know why we sell those." Then he snaps the case shut, before you have any time to change your mind. "Now, then. What do you need?" <</if>><</nobr>> <<include 'chandryover'>>

Chandry's eyes widen when he sees you, and he actually bounds forward and seizes you by the shoulders, eyes wide. "You've returned, Shepherd $surname!" he cries. "Oh, how Chandry missed you! You were gone for so long!" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Shove him off. "Get off me."</div>' 'autogenerated_69171'>><<set $chandry -= 5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Shrug him off, laughing. "It wasn't that long."</div>' 'autogenerated_69172'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Hug him back, shaking your head ruefully. "I missed you too, you crazy clown."</div>' 'autogenerated_69173'>><<set $chandry += 2>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Give him a quip. "I'm surprised you didn't go broke without your favorite customer here to fund you."</div>' 'autogenerated_69174'>><<set $chandry += 1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

The clown's smile vanishes, and he backs away. "Chandry… apologizes," he says, a bit awkwardly. Then he clears his throat, seeming to recover his composure. "Come, come. You must tell Chandry all about your adventures. After you make your purchases." <<include 'chandryover'>>

Chandry's head bobs back in forth in a frantic nod. "A long time," he reiterates. "You've grown thin! Were you away in prison?" "I was on a mission." His eyes suddenly glint. "Were you prepared? Were you well-supplied?" <<include 'cheatedonchandry'>>

He gives a dramatic cry. "My dear friend!" he shouts, embracing you. "Ah, my dear, dear bosom friend!" Then he clears his throat, seeming to recover his composure. "Come, come. You must tell Chandry all about your adventures. After you make your purchases." <<include 'chandryover'>>

Chandry nods earnestly. "I had to raise prices just to make up for you being gone!" he declares. You're not totally sure if he's being serious or not. "I was nearly evicted from house and home! It was terrible!" Then he clears his throat, seeming to recover his composure. "Come, come. You must tell Chandry all about your adventures. After you make your purchases." <<include 'chandryover'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Uh... yes?"</div>' 'autogenerated_69175'>><<set $chandry += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"No, not really."</div>' 'autogenerated_69176'>><<set $chandry -= 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"No one can truly be prepared for life's surprises."</div>' 'autogenerated_69177'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Chandry beams. "Good, good. Then our partnership has benefited you in some small way." Then he clears his throat, seeming to recover his composure. "Come, come. You must tell Chandry all about your adventures. After you make your purchases." <<include 'chandryover'>>

"A travesty!" the clown cries, making a theatrical face of horror. "It is my fault! I should have been equipping you to face the poisonous darts and arrows of the world. And yet, alas…" He wilts. "I have failed you." Then he clears his throat, seeming to recover his composure. "Come, come. You must tell Chandry all about your adventures. After you make your purchases." <<include 'chandryover'>>

He nods gravely. "I suppose that is true." Then he clears his throat, seeming to recover his composure. "Come, come. You must tell Chandry all about your adventures. After you make your purchases." <<include 'chandryover'>>

Chandry claps and does a jig as you approach; someone seems to have painted his shoes red and covered them with felt flowers. "Callooh! Callay! O frabjous, frabjous day!" he cries. "My favorite customer is here, hooray!" He extends his hand towards you; in it rests a leather pouch. “A gamble for you,” he choruses. “A jape or a jibe! Three coins inside. One is silver, two are copper. Pick blindly, and if you pull the silver, you win a prize. If you don't… well, at least you tried.” <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Take the gamble.</div>' 'autogenerated_69178'>><<set $chandry += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Refuse the gamble.</div>' 'autogenerated_69179'>><<set $chandry -= 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Try to cheat by peeking inside the pouch.</div>' 'autogenerated_69180'>><<set $chandry -= 2>><<setcunning +5>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Chandry’s eyes gleam as you reach into the pouch… You withdraw a silver coin. Which seems to be made out of chocolate, by the by. Chandry gives a delighted hoot. "What ho! It seems you have won the prize!" "What's the prize?" you ask curiously, despite yourself. Chandry blows you a big kiss. "There it is!" he cries, pointing at the empty air between you as if something is floating towards you. "Enjoy!" ... <<include 'chandryover'>>

Chandry pouts, dramatically clutching the pouch to his chest. “No fun at all,” he sighs. “Ah, well. What can I do for you, then?” <<include 'chandryover'>>

As your fingers close around the pouch’s edge, Chandry’s expression turns sharp. “Tsk, tsk,” he says reprimandingly. “No peeking, little fox!” He snaps the pouch shut. “Now, what was it you came here for again?" <<include 'chandryover'>>

When you approach Chandry's shop, you find that he's talking in animated tones to a wizened old woman who pushes a rack of very fine dresses and suits towards him. Chandry shoves the rack back, not so politely. "Fiend!" you hear him from down the street. "Cad! Harpy of the highest order!" "You ordered these, you great fool," the old woman says sternly. "Lies! Deceptions! I did no such thing!" "You think I made this up out of nowhere? Me, Ysbeta the Elder, Seamstress of the Tailors Guild? You're madder than they say. Look, here's the receipt you signed!" "You mistake me, woman! You are seeking another Chandry!" "Another Chandry asked me to custom-tailor an entire wardrobe of the latest fineries and designs? Where is he, then?" "You must ask him! Or else someone placed the order and signed the bill in my name, without my consent!" "And why would they do such a thing?" "Look at me! I am a clown, doomed to dance to the tunes others play for me—" He breaks off and looks at you, a bit desperately. "My Shepherd friend!" he pleads. "You must help me—if I am forced to pay for these things I did not order, I will be beside myself! And my wallet—it may never recover!" Ysbeta the Elder eyes you beadily. "Are you the one who placed this order for the clown?" You shake your head. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You can't possibly want him to play for a cruel prank, can you?"</div>' 'wellsomeoneneedstopay'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Chandry, can't you just sell these clothes at your store?"</div>' 'autogenerated_69181'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"It wasn't me. Do you have any enemies, Chandry?"</div>' 'autogenerated_69182'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

He wrings his hands. "My clientele are not the kind seeking fine clothes, Shepherd $surname," he says miserably. "They seek travel gear, armor, weapons—it would take me months to sell off this damnable wardrobe piece-by-piece!" <<include 'wellsomeoneneedstopay'>>

"Oh, many, many," Chandry moans. "I am as reviled as I am beloved—'tis a curse!" <<include 'wellsomeoneneedstopay'>>

"Well, <i>someone</i> needs to pay for this," Ysbeta says without pity, waving at the rack of clothes. "This took me damn near a month, and I'll be paid for my work, come Hael or high water. What'll it be, clown?" "<i>Ay!</i>" Chandry screams. "How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is to have a haranguing hag who listens to naught and nary a word I say!" "How much are you owed?" you ask her, ignoring him. Ysbeta folds her arms. "Well, if someone really is out to harm him, then it's not all his fault," she allows reluctantly. "Considering that, I'd take two-hundred and fifty deucalions for the lot. That's a steal. I could try and sell it to someone else, but it'd be hard to find someone who would bulk-buy custom-tailored designs that they didn't pick themselves, and I'm loath to do it piece-by-piece…" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<if $gold gte 250>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Work out a compromise. "If I pay for the order, will you custom-design a formal outfit for me?"</div>' 'autogenerated_69183'>><<set $chandry += 3>><</link>><</if>> <<if $gold lt 250>><div class="inactive-item">Work out a compromise. "If I pay for the order, will you custom-design a formal outfit for me?"</div><</if>> <<if $gold gte 250>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Lend the money to Chandry on the strict condition that he pay you back as soon as he can.</div>' 'autogenerated_69184'>><<set $chandry += 3>><<set $gold -= 250>><<set $chandryowesmoney to true>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Turn away. This is something that needs to be worked out between the two of them. </div>' 'autogenerated_69185'>><<set $chandry to 0>><</link>> <<if $cunning gte 30>><<link '<div class="choice-item">Threaten Ysbeta. "This is your fault for accepting a signature without ensuring that it was coming from the right person. If you force him to pay, you could face legal problems."</div>' 'autogenerated_69186'>><<setcunning +3>><<setcompassionate -1>><<set $chandry += 1>><</link>><</if>> <<if $cunning lt 30>><div class="inactive-item">Threaten Ysbeta. "This is your fault for accepting a signature without ensuring that it was coming from the right person. If you force him to pay, you could face legal problems."</div><</if>> </div><</nobr>>

Making a custom outfit as sumptuous as these would cost several hundred deucalions on its own—so this seems like a steal, if you can get quality formalwear out of it and help Chandry out. Ysbeta considers it. "Fine," she says, inclining her head. "That sounds a fair deal, especially coming out of this misfortune. You give me two-hundred and fifty deucalions, Chandry gets the clothes, and you get your own special clothes designed by me." Chandry looks at you with devotion in his eyes. "Thank you, my friend," he whispers in relief. "I shall devote myself to hunting down the fiend who did this and making him pay—in blood, if need be. And I will do my best to sell off the clothes and pay you back—though the profit from them might be slim. At least you'll get your own fine-made designs to soothe the sting." Ysbeta rolls her eyes. "Tell me what you want, then." She pulls out a notepad, and you begin to discuss the details of your custom order. <<include 'designoutfitysbeta'>>

He looks like he's about to cry. "Oh, my friend!" He throws his arms around you and crushes you into a hug; he smells like sugar and… rubber. "My dear, dearest friend! My hero! The light of my wretched life!" Ysbeta looks distinctly less impressed. "Fork it over, then," she says, sticking out her crabby hand. You work it out for a few more minutes, with Chandry swearing to sell the clothes and pay you back the next time you visit him. "And discounts," he says feverishly. "Anything you want from my shop, it's yours for a few pennies!" <<include 'chandryover'>>

The two of them bicker and haggle it out for a while before Chandry reluctantly agrees to take the clothes at a steep discount, and with the understanding that he will pay Ysbeta in increments. He doesn't look at you as he takes his usual position behind his table of wares, clearly looking unhappy. You turn to his shop in awkward silence. <<include 'chandryover'>>

The old woman stares at you. "It ain't my fault!" she cries. "How was I supposed to know that someone was signing under false pretenses? That's never happened before!" You stare back. "Tell that to the courts. We'll see whose side they'd pick." You shake your head. "You need better procedures in place to prevent this from happening, plain and simple. That's not Chandry's fault." She scowls. "Fine," she says, spitting. "A pox on both of you, then! Don't ever think about setting foot in the Tailors' Quarter again!" And with that, she wheels her rack of clothes away, grumbling and cursing to herself all the while. Chandry turns to you with relief. "Thank you, my friend," he says, mopping at his painted brow with a handkerchief. "I could not understand why she so wanted me to pay for things I didn't order. I'm grateful to you." Then he shakes his head and smiles. "Now, then. What can I get you?" <<include 'chandryover'>>

<<set $formalwearhave3 to true>>"First off," Ysbeta says, "what kind of outfit you want? It's gonna be formal, yeah? Something you wear to nice parties, dances?" You nod. "I want…" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"A suit."</div>' 'ysbetanods'>><<set $outfit to "suit">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"A dress."</div>' 'ysbetanods'>><<set $outfit to "dress">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"A robe."</div>' 'ysbetanods'>><<set $outfit to "robe">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"An outfit."</div>' 'autogenerated_69187'>><<set $outfit to "outfit">><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Ysbeta makes a clicking sound with her tongue as she scribbles something down. "Just 'an outfit', eh?" She examines you with a gimlet eye. "Fine, we can do that." <<include 'ysbetanods'>>

She nods and busies herself with writing some more things down. "What style $outfit?" she asks eventually. "You want something traditional, something avant-garde? Sleek, form-fitting? Loose, comfortable? What?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Something loose and flowing.</div>' 'ysbetanods2'>><<set $outfitstyle to "flowing">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Something tight and form-fitting.</div>' 'ysbetanods2'>><<set $outfitstyle to "form-fitting">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Something sleek and svelte.</div>' 'ysbetanods2'>><<set $outfitstyle to "sleek">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Something traditional and stately.</div>' 'ysbetanods2'>><<set $outfitstyle to "dignified">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Something flashy and daring.</div>' 'ysbetanods2'>><<set $outfitstyle to "daring">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Something bold and colorful.</div>' 'ysbetanods2'>><<set $outfitstyle to "bold">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Something seductive and suave.</div>' 'ysbetanods2'>><<set $outfitstyle to "seductive">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Something cheerful and sweet.</div>' 'ysbetanods2'>><<set $outfitstyle to "cute">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Something elegant and graceful. </div>' 'ysbetanods2'>><<set $outfitstyle to "elegant">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Something modest and prudent.</div>' 'ysbetanods2'>><<set $outfitstyle to "modest">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Something else.</div>' 'autogenerated_69188'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"I want a(n) <<textbox "$outfitstyle" "colorful">> $outfit." <<include 'ysbetanods15'>>

<<page_break "Next" "ysbetanods2">>

<<nobr>><<set _firstLetter = $outfitstyle.charAt(0).toLowerCase()>> <<if _firstLetter == "a" || _firstLetter == "e" || _firstLetter == "i" || _firstLetter == "o" || _firstLetter == "u">> <<set $outfita = "an">> <<else>> <<set $outfita = "a">> <</if>><</nobr>>Ysbeta grunts. "And color?" she asks. "Obviously there will be more than one color in the designs and such, but what's the <i>main</i> color you want?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Red.</div>' 'ysbetajustred'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Orange.</div>' 'ysbetajustorange'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Yellow.</div>' 'ysbetajustyellow'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Green.</div>' 'ysbetajustgreen'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Blue.</div>' 'ysbetajustblue'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Purple.</div>' 'ysbetajustpurple'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Pink.</div>' 'ysbetajustpink'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Silver.</div>' 'ysbetajustsilver'>><<set $outfitcolor to "silver">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Gray.</div>' 'ysbetajustgray'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Brown.</div>' 'ysbetajustbrown'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Black.</div>' 'ysbetajustsilver'>><<set $outfitcolor to "black">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Something else.</div>' 'colorpickysbeta'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"I want $outfita $outfitstyle $outfit in the color <<textbox "$outfitcolor" "turquoise">>." <<include "ysbetacolorpick2">>

<<page_break "Next" "ysbetaoutfitwrapup">>

"What kind of red?" Ysbeta asks impatiently. "Crimson, royal red, maroon, rouge? Or just 'red'?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Just red.</div>' 'ysbetaoutfitwrapup'>><<set $outfitcolor to "red">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">A shade of red.</div>' 'colorpickysbeta'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"Orange? What kind of orange?" Ysbeta asks impatiently. "Just orange, or something like mandarin, apricot, autumn, ginger?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Just orange.</div>' 'ysbetaoutfitwrapup'>><<set $outfitcolor to "orange">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">A shade of orange.</div>' 'colorpickysbeta'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"Yellow? What kind of yellow?" Ysbeta asks impatiently. "Gold, butterscotch, canary, blonde? Pale yellow? Or just 'yellow'?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Just yellow.</div>' 'ysbetaoutfitwrapup'>><<set $outfitcolor to "yellow">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">A shade of yellow.</div>' 'colorpickysbeta'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"Green? What kind of green?" Ysbeta asks impatiently. "Forest green, lime green, something in between? Or just 'green'?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Just green.</div>' 'ysbetaoutfitwrapup'>><<set $outfitcolor to "green">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">A shade of green.</div>' 'colorpickysbeta'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"Blue? What kind of blue?" Ysbeta asks impatiently. "Sea blue, night blue, royal blue, robin's egg blue? Or just 'blue'?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Just blue.</div>' 'ysbetaoutfitwrapup'>><<set $outfitcolor to "blue">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">A shade of blue.</div>' 'colorpickysbeta'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"Purple? What kind of purple?" Ysbeta asks impatiently. "Royal purple, lavender, violet, wisteria? Or just 'purple'?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Just purple.</div>' 'ysbetaoutfitwrapup'>><<set $outfitcolor to "purple">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">A shade of purple.</div>' 'colorpickysbeta'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"Pink? What kind of pink?" Ysbeta asks impatiently. "Blush pink, magenta, coral, salmon? Or just 'pink'?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Just pink.</div>' 'ysbetaoutfitwrapup'>><<set $outfitcolor to "pink">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">A shade of pink.</div>' 'colorpickysbeta'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Ysbeta jots a note down. <<include "ysbetaoutfitwrapup">>

"Gray? What kind of gray?" Ysbeta asks impatiently. "Dove gray, stone gray, cloud gray, charcoal? Or just 'gray'?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Just gray.</div>' 'ysbetaoutfitwrapup'>><<set $outfitcolor to "gray">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">A shade of gray.</div>' 'colorpickysbeta'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"Brown? What kind of brown?" Ysbeta asks impatiently. "Sand brown, mud brown, wood brown? Or just 'brown'?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Just brown.</div>' 'ysbetaoutfitwrapup'>><<set $outfitcolor to "brown">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">A shade of brown.</div>' 'colorpickysbeta'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<set $outfitaddyn to true>>"Alright, so $outfita $outfitstyle $outfitcolor $outfit," she mutters. "Anything else you want to add? Embellishments or whatnot?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">A slit up the side, please.</div>' 'autogenerated_69189'>><<set $outfitadd to "with a slit up the side">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Trailing sleeves, please.</div>' 'autogenerated_69190'>><<set $outfitadd to "with trailing sleeves">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">A plunging neckline, please.</div>' 'autogenerated_69191'>><<set $outfitadd to "with a plunging neckline">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Lots of sequins and tiny jewels, please.</div>' 'autogenerated_69192'>><<set $outfitadd to "with shining sequins and tiny jewels">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">A long and elegant train, please.</div>' 'autogenerated_69193'>><<set $outfitadd to "with a long, flowing train">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">A flashy cape, please.</div>' 'autogenerated_69194'>><<set $outfitadd to "with a flashy cape">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">A splash of color at the pocket, please.</div>' 'autogenerated_69195'>><<set $outfitadd to "with a splash of color at the pocket">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">A matching headpiece, please. </div>' 'autogenerated_69196'>><<set $outfitadd to "with a matching headpiece">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">A matching pocketwatch, please.</div>' 'autogenerated_69197'>><<set $outfitadd to "with a matching pocketwatch">><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Something else.</div>' 'autogenerated_69198'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">No additions, please.</div>' 'ysbetaoutfitwrapup2'>><<set $outfitaddyn to false>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<include 'ysbetaoutfitwrapup2'>>

Ysbeta mutters to herself some more. "It'll cost extra," she says. Then she glances at Chandry. "…On second thought, I'll throw it in free of charge." Chandry nods gravely. "As it should be." <<include 'ysbetaoutfitwrapup2'>>

<i> Note: Please put the word "with" in front of your outfit addition. </i> "I want $outfita $outfitstyle $outfitcolor $outfit <<textbox "$outfitadd" "with special cufflinks">>." <<include 'ysbetaoutfitwrapup15'>>

<<page_break "Next" "ysbetaoutfitwrapup2">>

"Fine," Ysbeta says, scribbling down furiously. "So $outfita $outfitstyle $outfitcolor $outfit? <<nobr>> <<if $outfitaddyn is true>> <<c outfitadd>>? <</if>><</nobr>> Is that right?" <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="money-item">"Yes."</div>' 'autogenerated_69199'>><<set $gold -= 250>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Actually..."</div>' 'autogenerated_69200'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<nobr>> <<notify_gold "-250 Gold">> <<if $fashion is false>> <<set $fashion to true>> <<notify_codex_culture "Lady Tatler, Issue 42">> <</if>><</nobr>> Ysbeta flips her book shut. "Fine," she says briskly, holding her hand out for the money. "It'll be ready in a few sennights. I'll send it over to the Shepherds' compound then." You hand over the two-hundred and fifty deucalions. "It's a deal." After she leaves, Chandry turns to you and throws his arms around you, crushing you into an enormous hug. "My friend!" he cries. He smells of sugar and, faintly, rubber. "My dear, dearest friend… My hero, the light of my life, the apple of my eye! I am forever in your debt!" He swears to sell the clothes immediately and pay you what he can of the profits. "And discounts," he says feverishly. "Anything you want from my shop, you may buy for pennies!" <<include 'smileatchandryysbeta'>>

Ysbeta scowls. "What, are we going to have to start this all over again?" She flips to a blank page in her book and makes an impatient noise. "Fine, here we go again, then!" <<include 'designoutfitysbeta5'>>

<<page_break "Next" "designoutfitysbeta">>

<<nobr>><<if $outfitaddyn>> <<set $formalwear3 = $outfita + " " + $outfitstyle + " " + $outfitcolor + " " + $outfit + " " + $outfitadd>> <<else>> <<set $formalwear3 = $outfita + " " + $outfitstyle + " " + $outfitcolor + " " + $outfit>> <</if>><</nobr>>You smile. "I'm glad to help, Chandry." He releases you finally and clears his throat. "Er, yes. Thank you. Now, what did you come here for? How can I help you?" <<include "chandryover">>

When you arrive at Chandry's shop, he looks morose. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"What is it, Chandry?"</div>' 'gambling1'>><<set $chandry += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Ignore him and look at his wares.</div>' 'autogenerated_69201'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

It really isn't worth investigating, at this point. <<include 'chandryover'>>

Chandry looks even more distracted than usual when you arrive at his usual corner of the Market Quarter, standing there with his hands in his pockets, staring dreamily up at the creamy-pink sky. When you clear your throat, he blinks and looks around, then gives you a very silly smile. "Ah, Shepherd $firstname," he says, even more chipper than usual. "How good to see you. Just the other day I came by to your home, but you weren't there." You tilt your head. "You were at the Shepherds' compound?" He nods. "Oh, yes. That delightful quartermaster of yours invited me to come, to discuss business… supply deals…" He trails off, humming to himself in a besotted way, before he turns to you abruptly and says in a much more urgent voice: "Shepherd $firstname, I must inquire… is Miss Acquell…?" <<nobr>><<if $charisma gte 40>> You blink. "…Available?" you finish. <br><br> Chandry beams and nods vigorously. "Yes," he says beatifically. "That." <<else>> You stare blankly. "Is Miss Acquell… what?" you prompt. He looks at you as if you're very slow. "Is she <i>available</i>?" Chandry asks, making a delicate bow-tying gesture with his hands for some reason. <</if>><</nobr>> <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...." This is decidedly awkward.</div>' 'autogenerated_69202'>><<setcharisma -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Why don't you ask her yourself?"</div>' 'autogenerated_69203'>><<setcharisma -1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I don't think... you're her type..." </div>' 'autogenerated_69204'>><</link>> <<if $sheryromance is true or $sheryromanceflag gte 30>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Actually, she's with me." </div>' 'autogenerated_69205'>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Your mind starts to work fast. If you scored him a date, would he give you a better discount? </div>' 'autogenerated_69206'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Chandry sighs and turns away. "Never mind," he says. "I shall settle for pining silently. Such is the yoke of a simple merchant such as I." …Right. <<include 'chandryover'>>

Chandry's eyes widen; he looks horrified, a comical expression on a clown. "I must conduct reconnaissance first," he exclaims, indignant. "It would not do to humiliate myself in front of her!" You eye his pantaloons, which are covered in mysterious colored feathers. "Right. That wouldn't do." Chandry sighs and turns away. "Never mind," he says. "I shall settle for pining silently. Such is the yoke of a simple merchant such as I." Right. <<include 'chandryover'>>

Chandry eyes you beadily. "In terms of looks, personality, or something else?" <<include 'insultchandry'>>

Chandry blinks. "Surely, you jest!" <<include 'sheryswithmechandry'>>

Chandry nods vigorously when you propose it. "Oh, yes," he says, eyes wide. "A steepest discount for my Shepherd friend! Now and forever!" <<include 'scorechandryadate'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"...All three?"</div>' 'autogenerated_69207'>><<set $chandry -= 2>><</link>> <<if $sherytime gte 2>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"She's not attracted to men."</div>' 'autogenerated_69208'>><<set $chandry += 1>><</link>><</if>> <<if $sherytime lt 2>><div class="inactive-item">"She's not attracted to men."</div><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"She's not attracted to clowns."</div>' 'autogenerated_69209'>><<set $chandry -= 2>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

The clown deflates. "I see." Then he turns away, sighing over his wares. "You may shop now." Right. <<include 'chandryover'>>

He blinks. "Oh," Chandry says. "<i>Oh</i>." "Sorry." Even if he weren't a clown, he never stood a chance. Chandry scratches at the back of his colored wig, looking actually chagrined for once. "I see," he says finally. "I am glad you told me. I would hate to make Miss Acquell feel uncomfortable. Can you imagine if I'd—that would have been awkward." Then he sighs and turns back to his wares. "Ah, me. Well, not to worry: old Chandry will find someone yet. Let's find you some wares, hmm?" <<include 'chandryover'>>

He deflates. "I see. Of course." He turns away with a dramatic sigh. "Ah, me." A morose hand comes up to wave in the direction of his wares. "You may shop now." …Right. <<include 'chandryover'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I do not jest. And don't call me Shirley."</div>' 'autogenerated_69210'>><<set $chandry += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Sorry. Guess we're rivals in love."</div>' 'autogenerated_69211'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"No, I don't. And stay away from her."</div>' 'autogenerated_69212'>><<set $chandry -= 5>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Want to have a duel? Maybe it will make you feel better."</div>' 'autogenerated_69213'>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Chandry stares at you, agog, before he bursts out laughing. "Oh!" he says, wiping a tear of mirth away from his eye. "I see what Miss Acquell must see in you. Very good, my Shepherd friend, very good." He turns back to his wares, as cheerful and unaffected as ever. "What did you come here to buy, hmm? Anything for Miss Acquell's beloved!" <<include 'chandryover'>>

Chandry sighs and deflates. "No," he says, suddenly morose. "You're no rival of mine. I can see that I never stood a chance at all." Then he seems to shake himself and recover. "Never mind, my Shepherd friend, never mind. All water under the ocean." "You mean under the bridge?" He throws you a strange look. "Of course not. All water is under bridges. That makes no sense." There he is. <<include 'chandryover'>>

Chandry frowns, but he says nothing more. He just moves to the side of his stall, as if to say, <i>Well, care to shop</i>? <<include 'chandryover'>>

He eyes your deadly-looking $mainweapon. "I think not, my Shepherd friend, I think not," the clown mutters. Then he shakes himself and seems to recover. "Well, then, never mind. Old Chandry will find someone yet. Let's see what wares we have for you today, my friend." <<include 'chandryover'>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"I'll see what I can do." You could definitely talk Shery into going to <i>one</i> dinner... for the sake of your wallet.</div>' 'autogenerated_69214'>><<set $chandry += 10>><<setshery -10>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">It's tempting, but no. You couldn't do that to Shery.</div>' 'autogenerated_69215'>><<setshery +1>><<set $chandry -= 1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Chandry claps his hands and actually dances around in a little circle. "Oh, hip, hip, hooray!" the clown cries. "I am in ecstasy! I am ascendant! Thank you, dear Shepherd, thank you!" Then he stops and looks wildly around. "I must prepare! Miss Acquell deserves a gift, a formal courtship! Flowers—no, too drab, perhaps one of those gerbils from the southern isles—" …What have you done? <<include 'chandryover'>>

He deflates immediately, then gives you an accusatory look. "You should not suggest a thing if you do not mean it," he says in a sulky way. Then the clown seems to recover himself and draws up. "Never mind all that, then. Let's get you your wares. I'll find a way to court Miss Acquell on my own." <<include 'chandryover'>>

<<nobr>><<if $chandryowesmoney is true>> <<set $gold += 260>><<notify_gold "+260 Gold">>"Ah, my friend!" Chandry cries as you approach. "Here!" He shoves a bulging bag of deucalions into your hand. "The money I owe you for those foul, wretched clothes! You'll see I put in some extra, see? Chandry never forgets a debt to a friend!" <br><br> You count out your money and find that Chandry's given you ten more coins than he owed you. You smile. "Thank you, Chandry." <<elseif $formalwearhave3 is true>> <<set $gold += 100>><<notify_gold "+100 Gold">>"Ah, my friend!" Chandry snaps his fingers before turning to you and handing you a small bag of coins. "Here. This is what I could scavenge from selling off those awful, wretched clothes… It's not much, but perhaps that will supplement that fine outfit Ysbeta made you, yes?" <br><br> You count out your money and find that Chandry has given you one hundred deucalions in repayment for the favor you did him. <<include "thisisntenoughchandry">> <<else>> Chandry beams at you, seeming in fine form as usual. "Hello, my Shepherd friend!" <br><br> <<include "chandryover">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"This isn't enough."</div>' 'autogenerated_69216'>><<set $chandry -= 5>><<set $gold -= 100>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"This is fine. Thank you, Chandry."</div>' 'autogenerated_69217'>><<set $chandry += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Hand the coins back. "I don't need this. Why don't you keep it?"</div>' 'autogenerated_69218'>><<set $chandry += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Frown. "How can you get away with charging such exorbitant prices for your items, but you can't even pay me back two-hundred and fifty deucalions?"</div>' 'autogenerated_69219'>><<set $chandry to 0>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

<<notify_gold "-100 Gold">> The clown frowns, regarding you with wary eyes. "I… see," he says stiffly, taking the coins back. "Then… I suppose I shall keep working on the debt, then. But I warn you, it will take a long time." He turns away, his shoulders stiff and affronted. <<include 'chandryover'>>

He smiles. "No, thank <i>you</i>, my Shepherd friend." He turns to his wares. "Now, how can I help you today?" <<include 'chandryover'>>

However, the clown just won't hear of it. "Don't insult me, my friend!" he shouts, shoving the money back at you. "Take this gold, and my friendship to go with it!" You argue about it for a while, but Chandry forcefully shoves the money into your pocket. "Fine, then," you say, exasperated. "I'll just spend it all here, anyway." "Ay!" the clown screams, throwing his hands in the air. "If you insist, you codswalloping saint!" <<include 'chandryover'>>

The clown frowns, regarding you with wary eyes. "I do not keep all that money for myself, friend," he says frostily. "The original vendors must be paid, the merchants who bring me my wares… Running a shop is an expensive business. But if this is not satisfactory to you, I will work on gathering more coin." He turns away from you, his shoulders stiff. <<include 'chandryover'>>

Chandry looks up and gives you a dreamy expression as you approach the stall. "Ah, me," he says, draping himself over one of the tables holding his wares. <<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">Ignore him. </div>' 'chandryfindslove'>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"You look happy, Chandry."</div>' 'chandryfindslove'>><<set $chandry += 1>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"What's with the dopey look?"</div>' 'chandryfindslove'>><<set $chandry += 1>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

"I have found love again, my Shepherd friend," he says, heedless of all the stares he's attracting. "Look!" He flings down whatever he's holding: you glance at it. It looks to be an old issue of the newspaper, the <i>Haven Herald.</i> Outlined and underlined many times in red ink is the article regarding "the Golden Girl," some sort of thief-scholar who keeps breaking into the Autarch's archives "in order to draw more accurate maps." "I love her," Chandry says with wistful longing. …Right. <<include "chandryover">>

Chandry stretches his mouth in a red-painted smile. "Welcome back." <<include "chandryover">>

<center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Enter Shop</span></div></div>' "Shop">> <<set $shopvisit += 1>> <<set $shopspent to true>> <<if $chandry <= 0>> <<set $giftprice = Math.round($giftprice * 2)>> <<set $weaponprice = Math.round($weaponprice * 2)>> <<elseif $chandry == 1>> <<set $giftprice = Math.max(5, Math.round($giftprice - 10))>> <<elseif $chandry == 2 or $chandry == 3>> <<set $giftprice = Math.max(5, Math.round($giftprice - 10))>> <<set $weaponprice = Math.max(15, Math.round($weaponprice - 10))>> <<elseif $chandry == 4>> <<set $giftprice = Math.max(5, Math.round($giftprice - 10))>> <<set $weaponprice = Math.max(15, Math.round($weaponprice - 20))>> <<set $healthpotionprice = Math.max(2, Math.round($healthpotionprice / 2))>> <<elseif $chandry == 5 or $chandry == 6>> <<set $giftprice = Math.max(5, Math.round($giftprice - 10))>> <<set $weaponprice = Math.max(15, Math.round($weaponprice - 30))>> <<set $healthpotionprice = Math.max(2, Math.round($healthpotionprice / 2))>> <<elseif $chandry == 7>> <<set $giftprice = Math.max(5, Math.round($giftprice / 5))>> <<set $weaponprice = Math.max(15, Math.round($weaponprice - 10))>> <<set $healthpotionprice = Math.max(2, Math.round($healthpotionprice / 2))>> <<elseif $chandry == 8>> <<set $giftprice = Math.max(5, Math.round($giftprice / 5))>> <<set $weaponprice = Math.max(15, Math.round($weaponprice / 2))>> <<set $healthpotionprice = Math.max(2, Math.round($healthpotionprice / 2))>> <</if>> <</link>></center>

"I am tormented by ill luck, my Shepherd friend," he sighs dramatically. "I played Angels and Devils in the Golden Way and lost… and lost… and lost…" "The Golden Way?" You've never heard of such a place before. He blinks at you. "Why, it's only the most famous gambling street in all of Haven!" he cries. "Games, prizes, gold, fun! Enough to make a clown weep with joy!" <<nobr>><<if $cunning gte 30>> He gazes at you suddenly. "I could take you there," he says. "If you need a way to supplement your Shepherds' income… You look as if you have the cunning to survive that place, my friend!" <<include "gamblingmore">> <<else>> He gazes at you suddenly. "You are too innocent for such things, my friend," he says with pity. "Come, let us stick to matters for the daytime…" <br><br> <<include "chandryover">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<nobr>><div class="choices"> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"No, thank you." You don't approve of gambling.</div>' 'autogenerated_69220'>><</link>> <<if $chandryowesmoney is true or $formalwearhave3 is true>><<link '<div class="choice-item">"Is this why you haven't paid me back for those clothes yet? You've gambled all your money away?"</div>' 'autogenerated_69221'>><<set $chandry to 0>><</link>><</if>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Can you take me there now?" You're curious.</div>' 'autogenerated_69222'>><<set $gambling to true>><</link>> <<link '<div class="choice-item">"Can you take me there now?" You love to gamble. </div>' 'autogenerated_69223'>><<set $gambling to true>><</link>> </div><</nobr>>

Chandry nods gravely. "Probably for the best, my friend," he sighs. "Probably for the best. Else you'll end up a poor, penniless clown like me." He sighs one last time. "Now… what can I help you with?" <<include 'chandryover'>>

He frowns at you. "Of course not!" he says indignantly. "I am still working on selling them—here!" He points at the rack of mostly-unsold clothes. "I never forget a debt, my friend—in fact, I was in the Golden Way to find a way to pay you back faster!" He turns away sullenly. "Never mind." It's clear he regrets bringing it up with you. <<include 'chandryover'>>

Chandry beams. "Of course, my friend, of course!" He ushers you out of his stall and down the street. <<include 'chandrygambling5'>>

<<page_break "Next" "gambling">>

Chandry smiles at you as you return to his shop. "Now you know where to find it whenever you wish," he says contentedly. "Now, to business." <<nobr>><<if $gold <= 0>> <br><br> You stare at him. "I lost all my money, Chandry…" <br><br> He blinks owlishly at you. "Oh. See you another day, then!" <br><br> <<page_break "Next" "dayoff">> <<else>> <br><br> <<include "chandryover">> <</if>><</nobr>>

<<audio ":playing" stop>> <<if settings.music is true>><<audio "shop" volume 0.4 loop play>><</if>> /* Shop tabs are basically reusing inventory tabs, with a few differences: hideItem is opposite condition from inventory -> i.e. if "$basicsword is true", then hide item, as you already have it <- I assume that's how it'd work in game anyway? itemTag is basically tag of item <- needed so we can find any items in inventory on buy and update/remove them I suggest itemTag to be the same string as for i.e. variable name in twee for that item i.e.: if twee var is $basicsword then itemTag: "basicsword" * (also, the var name in setVariablesWhenBoughtTo array, would be set as varName: "basicsword" ^^^it's slightly redundant, but it makes it so much easier & less bug-prone when finding the item in DOM and updating/removing it isConsumable <- set isConsumable: true, if you want the item to be purchesable multiple times (i.e. health potion) setVariablesWhenBoughtTo has to be provided, so that the shop will now which variables to set when user buys it, make sure to also provide: varType: "string" / "int" / "boolean" setValue: -> examples: "some string to set" / 34 / true it should even work with using twee vars here: $someTweeString / $someTweeInt / $someTweeConditionIsTrue if it's an int variant, also set addAmount: 1 (or more), as this way we can ensure functionality to add more than 1 item every time some examples: setVariablesWhenBoughtTo: [{varName: "basicsword", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}] // i.e. a more compelx case of setting health potion, which has to set multiple twee vars setVariablesWhenBoughtTo: [{varName: "healthpotion", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}, {varName: "healthpotionnumber", varType: "int", setValue: $healthpotionnumber, addAmount: 1}] discountRate is a value between 0-1 (0 = 0% discount, 1 = 100% discount), which will be applied to UI & purchase price, as well as display an % off valuation in shop UI & popup It's best to provide discount to 2 decimals and not more, i.e. 0.28 is ok, but 0.2875 could cause some weird rounding/Display edge cases) final item price is calculated as: finalPrice = parseInt(goldCost * (1 - discountRate)) */ <<set $shopTabsData to { weapons: { tabKey: "weapons", tabName: "WEAPONS", items: [ {itemTag: "standardsword", hideItem: $standardsword is true, setVariablesWhenBoughtTo: [{varName: "standardsword", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}, {varName: "basicsword", varType: "boolean", setValue: false}, {varName: "possess_sword", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}, {varName: "sword", varType: "int", setValue: $sword, addAmount: 20}], name: "STEEL SWORD", desc: "A BRIGHT, KEEN-EDGED STRAIGHT SWORD WITH A HILT WRAPPED IN WIRE. IT SEEMS TO BE MADE OF HIGH-QUALITY KET STEEL.", hasIcon: false, goldCost: $weaponprice, discountRate: 0, extraDesc: "\"Ah, this is a sturdy sword, forged out of good Ket steel! See the insignia on the hilt? It's an authentic blade, of the kind their foot soldiers used during the Ket Wars. Would you like to buy it?\"", onBuyMessage: "\"An excellent choice! Thank you very much!\""}, {itemTag: "standardbow", hideItem: $standardbow is true, setVariablesWhenBoughtTo: [{varName: "standardbow", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}, {varName: "basicbow", varType: "boolean", setValue: false}, {varName: "possess_bow", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}, {varName: "bow", varType: "int", setValue: $bow, addAmount: 20}], name: "YEW BOW WITH LEATHER QUIVER", desc: "A WELL-OILED, SUPPLE LONGBOW CONSTRUCTED FROM LIGHT, WARM WOOD WITH AN ELEGANT CURVE. IT HAS A POWERFUL DRAW.", hasIcon: false, goldCost: $weaponprice, discountRate: 0, extraDesc: "\"This is a good, solid bow, made of strong yew and Elven twine. Very flexible, excellent for long-distance shots.\" He cocks his head. \"Do you want it?\"", onBuyMessage: "\"An excellent choice! Thank you very much!\""}, {itemTag: "standardgun", hideItem: $standardgun is true, setVariablesWhenBoughtTo: [{varName: "standardgun", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}, {varName: "basicgun", varType: "boolean", setValue: false}, {varName: "possess_gun", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}, {varName: "gun", varType: "int", setValue: $gun, addAmount: 20}], name: "ARMY-ISSUED PISTOL", desc: "A THIN-BARRELED MILITARY PISTOL CAPABLE OF HOLDING TEN ROUNDS IN ITS CHAMBER RATHER THAN THE STANDARD TWO.", hasIcon: false, goldCost: $weaponprice, discountRate: 0, extraDesc: "\"Ah, this is a finely-built gun, crafted by the most skilled engineers in Haven. Elite officers in the army carry these. It has a faster firing rate than most handguns on the market, as well as a chamber capable of holding ten rounds—certainly an upgrade from the clunky two-shot revolvers most gunslingers carry on this side of the Continent, no?\" He cocks his head. \"So, do you want it?\"", onBuyMessage: "\"An excellent choice! Thank you very much!\""}, {itemTag: "standarddagger", hideItem: $standarddagger is true, setVariablesWhenBoughtTo: [{varName: "standarddagger", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}, {varName: "basicdagger", varType: "boolean", setValue: false}, {varName: "possess_dagger", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}, {varName: "dagger", varType: "int", setValue: $dagger, addAmount: 20}], name: "CORSAIR DAGGER", desc: "A WICKED, CURVED, GOLD-HILTED DAGGER FROM THE SESZ ISLES. IT'S A BIT ORNAMENTAL, BUT DEADLY SHARP.", hasIcon: false, goldCost: $weaponprice, discountRate: 0, extraDesc: "\"This is a pirate dagger from the Sesz Isles, quick and razor-sharp. You'll often see corsairs wearing these kinds of blades at their belts: very good for throwing. Or for cutting throats.\" He cocks his head. \"Do you want it?\"", onBuyMessage: "\"An excellent choice! Thank you very much!\""}, {itemTag: "premiumsword", hideItem: $premiumsword is true, setVariablesWhenBoughtTo: [{varName: "premiumsword", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}, {varName: "basicsword", varType: "boolean", setValue: false}, {varName: "standardsword", varType: "boolean", setValue: false}, {varName: "possess_sword", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}, {varName: "sword", varType: "int", setValue: $sword, addAmount: 30}], name: "KET WARRIOR SWORD", desc: "A STRAIGHT SWORD MADE OF PITCH-BLACK STEEL, LINED WITH A RAZOR-SHARP BLUE EDGE. IT FEELS DIAMOND-HARD AND NIGH-UNBREAKABLE.", hasIcon: false, goldCost: ($weaponprice * 2), discountRate: 0, extraDesc: "\"What a fine eye you have, my friend! This sword is a masterwork of Ket metalsmithing! See the blue rim along the edge? That's a Ket secret: <i>very</i> elite blacksmithing, and the black metal is some sort of alloy that no one else can replicate. Reserved only for their greatest warriors. Makes the sword nigh unbreakable, and it can shred Norm armor like paper.\" He leans back in satisfaction. \"Would you like to buy it?\"", onBuyMessage: "\"Wonderful choice! I'll wrap this up for you right away!\""}, {itemTag: "premiumbow", hideItem: $premiumbow is true, setVariablesWhenBoughtTo: [{varName: "premiumbow", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}, {varName: "basicbow", varType: "boolean", setValue: false}, {varName: "standardbow", varType: "boolean", setValue: false}, {varName: "possess_bow", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}, {varName: "bow", varType: "int", setValue: $bow, addAmount: 30}], name: "ELVEN SUNTREE BOW", desc: "AN ELVEN BOW FASHIONED FROM THE ANCIENT SUNTREES OF SHYRDUIN. TOUCHING IT IMBUES YOUR ARM WITH A SENSE OF WARMTH AND LIMBERNESS.", hasIcon: false, goldCost: ($weaponprice * 2), discountRate: 0, extraDesc: "\"You have an eye for quality, my friend! See the rich gold grain of the wood? This bow is crafted from Elven suntrees, which lie deep in the ancient forest of Shyrduin. It makes the bow as light as a cloud, and any arrow you let fly from it will strike true.\" He leans back with satisfaction. \"Will you buy it?\"", onBuyMessage: "\"Wonderful choice! I'll wrap this up for you right away!\""}, {itemTag: "premiumdagger", hideItem: $premiumdagger is true, setVariablesWhenBoughtTo: [{varName: "premiumdagger", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}, {varName: "basicdagger", varType: "boolean", setValue: false}, {varName: "standarddagger", varType: "boolean", setValue: false}, {varName: "possess_dagger", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}, {varName: "dagger", varType: "int", setValue: $dagger, addAmount: 30}], name: "EXORCIST'S CLEANSING DAGGER", desc: "A BLADE SAID TO HAVE BEEN BLESSED BY HUNTER PRIESTS. IT'S A STRANGE, ARCANE-LOOKING THING, SPORTING A BONE-WHITE, WAVY BLADE.", hasIcon: false, goldCost: ($weaponprice * 2), discountRate: 0, extraDesc: "\"Ah, you are drawn to the most mysterious items, my friend! This blade is imbued with holy energies by the Hunters of the Reach. See how your hand tingles when you curl your fingers around the hilt? That means it's protected from all manner of curses and demonic energies: you can feel safe knowing that an Endarkened hasn't somehow infected your weapon, and you may draw it safely in their presence.\"<br><br>", onBuyMessage: "\"Wonderful choice! I'll wrap this up for you right away!\""}, {itemTag: "premiumgun", hideItem: $premiumgun is true, setVariablesWhenBoughtTo: [{varName: "premiumgun", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}, {varName: "basicgun", varType: "boolean", setValue: false}, {varName: "standardgun", varType: "boolean", setValue: false}, {varName: "possess_gun", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}, {varName: "gun", varType: "int", setValue: $gun, addAmount: 30}], name: "NOBLE'S DUELING PISTOL", desc: "A LARGE, ORNATE DUELING PISTOL INLAID WITH GOLD FILIGREE DESIGNS. IT'S ALL THE FASHION AMONG HAVEN'S ARISTOCRACY.", hasIcon: false, goldCost: ($weaponprice * 2), discountRate: 0, extraDesc: "\"Ah, my friend, that gun is not only coveted because of its looks! It is rapid-firing and even capable of firing different kinds of ammunition, not just your standard bullets! Why nobles need that ability, I can't say—not even soldiers in the army have that ability yet. But this is of the highest quality on the market, as befitting a noble's wealth and station.\" He leans back with satisfaction. \"Will you buy it?\"", onBuyMessage: "\"Wonderful choice! I'll wrap this up for you right away!\""}, {itemTag: "legendarysword", hideItem: $legendarysword is true, setVariablesWhenBoughtTo: [{varName: "legendarysword", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}, {varName: "basicsword", varType: "boolean", setValue: false}, {varName: "standardsword", varType: "boolean", setValue: false}, {varName: "premiumsword", varType: "boolean", setValue: false}, {varName: "possess_sword", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}, {varName: "sword", varType: "int", setValue: $sword, addAmount: 100}], name: "CLARION", desc: "A SWORD THAT SEEMS TO BE MADE OF CRYSTAL. IT HUMS WITH A DEEP, ANCIENT ENERGY, SINGING THROUGH THE AIR WHEN YOU SWING IT.", hasIcon: false, goldCost: ($weaponprice * 10), discountRate: 0, extraDesc: "You pick up the sword in question, feeling its hilt hum and vibrate when you wrap your hand around it. The blade is constructed of a strange, icy blue crystalline material, edged with gold. <br><br> Chandry gasps. \"You want to buy Clarion? The Skyshard, Herald of the Heavens?\" He speaks in a very hushed voice, his eyes wide. \"That sword is rumored to have been forged at the Eye of the World, the tallest peak known to man. Legend says that it's unbreakable, and when swung at dawn in the hands of a champion, it blazes with a radiant and holy light. Its edge is so sharp that it makes the air sing, almost as if it could cut the sky itself, and they say whole armies have been rallied by that piercing, maddening battle-song, as sweet and ancient as the winds and the turning of the world itself...\" Then he pauses, looking a little sheepish. \"But of course, that's just a legend.\"<br><br>", onBuyMessage: "\"Of course! Right away! It's an honor to sell such an item to one such as you!\""}, {itemTag: "legendarybow", hideItem: $legendarybow is true, setVariablesWhenBoughtTo: [{varName: "legendarybow", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}, {varName: "basicbow", varType: "boolean", setValue: false}, {varName: "standardbow", varType: "boolean", setValue: false}, {varName: "premiumbow", varType: "boolean", setValue: false}, {varName: "possess_bow", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}, {varName: "bow", varType: "int", setValue: $bow, addAmount: 100}], name: "THE WARPWOOD STRIKER", desc: "A SILVERY, ANCIENT BOW MADE OF PALE WOOD. IT TREMBLES AND SHIVERS UNDER YOUR TOUCH LIKE A LIVING THING.", hasIcon: false, goldCost: ($weaponprice * 10), discountRate: 0, extraDesc: "The bow in question is an interesting thing: it's light as a feather, but the wood of it is crooked and warped with age. You can't think of why anyone would give it a second thought until you see the faintly-glowing magical runes inscribed into the ancient, ghostly wood. <br> <br> Chandry's eyes widen when he sees you holding it. \"You want to buy the Warpwood Striker?\" he asks, whistling. \"That's an ancient weapon my salvaging party recovered from a hidden resting place. It seems to be inhabited by a particularly neurotic spirit who chafes at the thought of missing its target. As a result, arrows shot from the Striker will always fly true, as long as you hold the target in your mind—even from around corners, or if the arrow must ricochet around objects. You won't even need to aim anymore!\" <br><br>", onBuyMessage: "\"Of course! Right away! It's an honor to sell such an item to one such as you!\""}, {itemTag: "legendarydagger", hideItem: $legendarydagger is true, setVariablesWhenBoughtTo: [{varName: "legendarydagger", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}, {varName: "basicdagger", varType: "boolean", setValue: false}, {varName: "standarddagger", varType: "boolean", setValue: false}, {varName: "premiumdagger", varType: "boolean", setValue: false}, {varName: "possess_dagger", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}, {varName: "dagger", varType: "int", setValue: $dagger, addAmount: 100}], name: "WHISPER AND REQUIEM", desc: "TWO ANCIENT DAGGERS SOLD AS A SET. ONE IS BLACK AND TINGED WITH GREEN, THE OTHER GOLD AND LINED WITH RED.", hasIcon: false, goldCost: ($weaponprice * 10), discountRate: 0, extraDesc: "The daggers in question are two odd things: one is forged from a lightless black metal, its blade straight and sharp as a razor, the point almost needle-thin. The other one is jagged and golden, its edge viciously serrated and edged with a strange red tint. Both daggers sing with a magical energy. <br> <br> Chandry's eyes widen when he sees you looking at him knowingly. \"That's contraband, that,\" he concedes, lowering his voice. \"But I thought you might be interested in it, my friend. Those are Whisper and Requiem, two daggers that once belonged to an infamous assassin. Requiem is highly destructive—it can serve as a conduit for magical energies—and it weeps a poison that won't harm its user. Whisper is as quick and light as quicksilver, its point so sharp it can cut through most things like butter—and it's said to turn the footfalls of its user silent.\" He grins. \"Of course, I can't verify the veracity of those claims myself.\"<br><br>", onBuyMessage: "\"Of course! Right away! It's an honor to sell these to one such as you!\""}, {itemTag: "legendarygun", hideItem: $legendarygun is true, setVariablesWhenBoughtTo: [{varName: "legendarygun", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}, {varName: "basicgun", varType: "boolean", setValue: false}, {varName: "standardgun", varType: "boolean", setValue: false}, {varName: "premiumgun", varType: "boolean", setValue: false}, {varName: "possess_gun", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}, {varName: "gun", varType: "int", setValue: $gun, addAmount: 100}], name: "THE THUNDERER", desc: "A GUN UNLIKE ANYTHING YOU'VE EVER SEEN BEFORE. IT LOOKS LIKE A HANDHELD CANNON ABOUT THE LENGTH OF YOUR ARM.", hasIcon: false, goldCost: ($weaponprice * 10), discountRate: 0, extraDesc: "You pick up the gun in question: it's unlike any you've ever seen before. Rather than the slim pistols or long rifles you're used to, this weapon looks thick and bulky—almost like a portable cannon about the span for your arm, double-barreled and formidable-looking. When your fingers curl around the polished handle, you notice the gun has a very satisfying weight and heft. <br> <br> Chandry's eyes widen. \"You want to buy the Thunderer?\" he asks in a hushed voice. \"This is a one-of-a-kind gun! I bought it at the estate sale of a most famous inventor in the West—and had to fend off all kinds of mercantile jackals for it, too!\" He taps the side of his rouge-dusted nose. \"The Thunderer is a prototype, you see. One of the most powerful guns in existence. It fires explosive fire-orbs that can blast craters through walls, raining devastation down on the wielder's enemies. I think the term being thrown around by experts is a <i>shotgun</i>, or a scattergun, though these sound terribly redundant and plain, to my mind.\" He pauses, then eyes you knowingly. \"Very good for those who prefer, ah, close-quarters combat. Very… impactful, this weapon, at least when it comes to blasting through your enemies. Like thunder and lightning.\" <br><br>", onBuyMessage: "\"Of course! Right away! It's an honor to sell this to one such as you!\""}, ], }, armor: { tabKey: "armor", tabName: "ARMOR", items: [ {itemTag: "bracers", hideItem: $bracers is true, setVariablesWhenBoughtTo: [{varName: "bracers", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}, {varName: "defense", varType: "int", setValue: $defense, addAmount: 5}], name: "BRACERS", desc: "FLEXIBLE BRACERS DESIGNED TO PROTECT YOUR WRISTS AND FOREARMS. ADDS +5 TO DEFENSE.", hasIcon: false, goldCost: 10, discountRate: 0, extraDesc: "\"Always good to pad up your defense! Bracers like these kept a cousin from shattering his arm when he blocked a sword-blow from an opponent.\" He blinks. \"Of course, he wasn't <i>my</i> cousin, but he was someone's cousin. Anyway...\"", onBuyMessage: "\"Of course! Anything else?\""}, {itemTag: "greaves", hideItem: $greaves is true, setVariablesWhenBoughtTo: [{varName: "greaves", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}, {varName: "defense", varType: "int", setValue: $defense, addAmount: 10}], name: "GREAVES", desc: "SUPPLE GREAVES DESIGNED TO PROTECT YOUR SHINS, ANKLES, AND KNEES. ADDS +10 TO DEFENSE.", hasIcon: false, goldCost: 30, discountRate: 0, extraDesc: "\"Very good, my friend! While these are not very ornamental, the supple design allows for great flexibility and range of movement. Perfect for rolling around, jumping, dodging, and whatever else your Shepherd heart might like to get up to.\"", onBuyMessage: "\"Of course! Anything else?\""}, {itemTag: "pauldron", hideItem: $pauldron >= 2, setVariablesWhenBoughtTo: [{varName: "pauldron", varType: "int", setValue: $pauldron, addAmount: 1}, {varName: "defense", varType: "int", setValue: $defense, addAmount: 15}], name: "PAULDRON", desc: "A PIECE OF ARMOR DESIGNED TO PROTECT YOUR SHOULDER, BACK, AND OTHER VULNERABLE AREAS. ADDS +15 TO DEFENSE.", hasIcon: false, goldCost: 40, discountRate: 0, extraDesc: "\"Very good, my friend! I'm actually running a sale on those if you buy two at once! But that's only if, you know, you care about symmetry and things like that. I don't, but some do!\"", onBuyMessage: "\"I hope this keeps you safe! Would you like to look at anything else?\""}, {itemTag: "pauldron", hideItem: $pauldron >= 1, setVariablesWhenBoughtTo: [{varName: "pauldron", varType: "int", setValue: $pauldron, addAmount: 2}, {varName: "defense", varType: "int", setValue: $defense, addAmount: 30}], name: "SET OF PAULDRONS", desc: "TWO PIECES OF ARMOR DESIGNED TO PROTECT YOUR SHOULDER, BACK, AND OTHER VULNERABLE AREAS. ADDS +30 TO DEFENSE.", hasIcon: false, goldCost: 80, discountRate: 0.25, extraDesc: "\"Very good, my friend! I'm actually running a sale on those—you're practically getting two for the price of one!\"", onBuyMessage: "\"I hope these keep you safe! Would you like to look at anything else?\""}, ], }, items: { tabKey: "items", tabName: "ITEMS", items: [ {itemTag: "healthpotion", isConsumable: true, setVariablesWhenBoughtTo: [{varName: "healthpotion", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}, {varName: "healthpotionnumber", varType: "int", setValue: $healthpotionnumber, addAmount: 1}], name: "HEALTH PACKET", desc: "SACHETS FILLED WITH HEALING MEDICINAL HERBS. TAKE WITH WATER, OR MIX INTO A PASTE TO FORM A SOOTHING SALVE OR LINIMENT. YOU CAN BUY MULTIPLE.", hasIcon: false, goldCost: $healthpotionprice, discountRate: 0, extraDesc: "Chandry bobs his head. \"This liniment comes specially-made from an Elvish temple in the mountains. You can rub it on any wound to soothe your aches and pains, as well as speed up the healing process. Or you can ingest with water or brew into a tea as a kind of cure-all. Feel free to buy as many as you'd like.\"", onBuyMessage: "\"Thank you!\""}, {itemTag: "lantern", hideItem: $lantern is true, setVariablesWhenBoughtTo: [{varName: "lantern", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}], name: "TRAVEL LANTERN", desc: "A SMALL, PORTABLE LAMP. IDEAL FOR CAVES AND RUINS.", hasIcon: false, goldCost: 5, discountRate: 0, extraDesc: "\"You never know when you need some light!\"", onBuyMessage: "\"Of course! Anything else?\""}, {itemTag: "rope", hideItem: $rope is true, setVariablesWhenBoughtTo: [{varName: "rope", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}], name: "ROPE", desc: "A LONG COIL OF STURDY ROPE.", hasIcon: false, goldCost: 2, discountRate: 0, extraDesc: "\"You never know when you need to climb something!\"", onBuyMessage: "\"Of course! Anything else?\""}, {itemTag: "lockpick", hideItem: $lockpick is true, setVariablesWhenBoughtTo: [{varName: "lockpick", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}], name: "LOCKPICK", desc: "A BASIC, COMPACT TOOLSET FOR OPENING DOORS AND SIMPLE LOCKS.", hasIcon: false, goldCost: 20, discountRate: 0, extraDesc: "Chandry looks you dead in the eye. \"You never know when you need to break in to something,\" he says, completely straight-faced.", onBuyMessage: "\"Of course! Anything else?\""}, ], }, gifts: { tabKey: "gifts", tabName: "GIFTS", items: [ {itemTag: "bladegift", hideItem: $bladegift is true or $purchasedbladegift is true, setVariablesWhenBoughtTo: [{varName: "bladegift", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}, {varName: "purchasedbladegift", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}], name: "MYSTERIOUS DAGGER", desc: "A STRANGE, CRUEL OBSIDIAN DAGGER WITH A HILT SEEMINGLY CRAFTED FROM BONE.", hasIcon: false, goldCost: $giftprice, discountRate: 0, extraDesc: "Chandry nods. \"Not sure where that comes from, but it's a rare and ancient weapon—I think recovered from some old ruins out near Carnbarad. Anyone interested in weaponry would appreciate that.\"", onBuyMessage: "\"Good choice! Anything else?\""}, {itemTag: "chasegift", hideItem: $chasegift is true or $purchasedchasegift is true, setVariablesWhenBoughtTo: [{varName: "chasegift", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}, {varName: "purchasedchasegift", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}], name: "FLASHY SCARF", desc: "A SLEEK NECK KERCHIEF FROM THE FASHION CAPITAL, COURTSHORE.", hasIcon: false, goldCost: $giftprice, discountRate: 0, extraDesc: "Chandry nods. \"This is a nice scarf for men—said to be the height of fashion in Courtshore and Conte, where they care about such things.\" He picks lint off of his own pink neck sash.", onBuyMessage: "\"Good choice! Anything else?\""}, {itemTag: "troublegift", hideItem: $troublegift is true or $purchasedtroublegift is true, setVariablesWhenBoughtTo: [{varName: "troublegift", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}, {varName: "purchasedtroublegift", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}], name: "MODEL AIRSHIP", desc: "A DESKTOP TOY MODEL OF AN AIRSHIP, A THEORETICAL CRAFT CAPABLE OF FLIGHT.", hasIcon: false, goldCost: $giftprice, discountRate: 0, extraDesc: "Chandry nods. \"That thing's new. Some toy out of the Western territories—they make a game out of assembling all of the pieces together to make this contraption. Rumor has it they'll have a life-sized working model in the air someday, though we're a long ways off from that. Blast if I know how it works. Someone interested in machinery and Norm things would like this little version, I think.\" He twiddles his fingers, then blinks when a flower pops out of his sleeve. <br><br>", onBuyMessage: "\"Good choice! Anything else?\""}, {itemTag: "rielgift", hideItem: $rielgift is true or $purchasedrielgift is true, setVariablesWhenBoughtTo: [{varName: "rielgift", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}, {varName: "purchasedrielgift", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}], name: "TOOLSET", desc: "A SLEEK, COMPACT KIT FILLED WITH USEFUL TOOLS AND GADGETS. IT HAS SO MANY NESTING COMPARTMENTS IT'S ALMOST OVERWHELMING.", hasIcon: false, goldCost: $giftprice, discountRate: 0, extraDesc: "Chandry nods. \"This one's good for those who are crafty and like to make things with their hands. Any creator in your life is going to be very happy with this kit.\"", onBuyMessage: "\"Good choice! Anything else?\""}, {itemTag: "sherygift", hideItem: $sherygift is true or $purchasedsherygift is true, setVariablesWhenBoughtTo: [{varName: "sherygift", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}, {varName: "purchasedsherygift", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}], name: "HEART-SHAPED NECKLACE", desc: "A SIMPLE BUT SWEET GOLD LOCKET IN THE SHAPE OF A HEART.", hasIcon: false, goldCost: $giftprice, discountRate: 0, extraDesc: "Chandry smiles. \"That's a good one—always a nice token for someone you care about. Good for someone who likes cute things. It'll remind them that your thoughts are with them, as their thoughts are with you.\" He mimes blowing a kiss, then sneezes.", onBuyMessage: "\"Good choice! Anything else?\""}, {itemTag: "falsegift", hideItem: $falsegift is true or $purchasedfalsegift is true, setVariablesWhenBoughtTo: [{varName: "falsegift", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}, {varName: "purchasedfalsegift", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}], name: "CRYSTAL BALL", desc: "A PRETTY ORB SPHERE MADE OUT OF GLASS.", hasIcon: false, goldCost: $giftprice, discountRate: 0, extraDesc: "Chandry shrugs. \"Not sure what that thing does,\" he says. \"Pretty to look at, though.\"", onBuyMessage: "\"Good choice! Anything else?\""}, {itemTag: "aylagift", hideItem: $aylagift is true or $purchasedaylagift is true, setVariablesWhenBoughtTo: [{varName: "aylagift", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}, {varName: "purchasedaylagift", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}], name: "MAP OF BLEST", desc: "A DETAILED MAP OF THE CONTINENT MEANT FOR RIGOROUS EXPLORERS AND TRAVELERS.", hasIcon: false, goldCost: $giftprice, discountRate: 0, extraDesc: "Chandry nods. \"That one's good for folks who like to travel a lot. You'll find every little landmark and hidden spot on the Continent marked on that map.\"", onBuyMessage: "\"Good choice! Anything else?\""}, {itemTag: "tallysgift", hideItem: $tallysgift is true or $purchasedtallysgift is true, setVariablesWhenBoughtTo: [{varName: "tallysgift", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}, {varName: "purchasedtallysgift", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}], name: "POTTED PLANT", desc: "A CHEERFUL LITTLE SPROUT IN ITS OWN PAINTED CERAMIC POT.", hasIcon: false, goldCost: $giftprice, discountRate: 0, extraDesc: "Chandry nods. \"Cute little thing, that. It's a <i>ginta</i> sprout—good for chewing and quickening the mind, when the leaves mature. Or wait—is it loco weed?\" He checks the underside of the pot quickly. \"No, it's ginta. Never mind.\"", onBuyMessage: "\"Good choice! Anything else?\""}, {itemTag: "halekgift", hideItem: $halekgift is true or $purchasedhalekgift is true, setVariablesWhenBoughtTo: [{varName: "halekgift", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}, {varName: "purchasedhalekgift", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}], name: "EXOTIC COOKBOOK", desc: "A BOOK FULL OF UNIQUE RECIPES FROM ALL OVER THE CONTINENT.", hasIcon: false, goldCost: $giftprice, discountRate: 0, extraDesc: "Chandry nods. \"That one's filled with recipes from all across the Continent—and even from places outside of it, like the Sesz Isles, Elinden, and Kresh. Good for anyone who likes to cook, obviously.\"", onBuyMessage: "\"Good choice! Anything else?\""}, {itemTag: "redgift", hideItem: $redgift is true or $purchasedredgift is true, setVariablesWhenBoughtTo: [{varName: "redgift", varType: "boolean", setValue: true},{varName: "purchasedredgift", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}], name: "ANCIENT TOME", desc: "AN ANCIENT MAGE TEXT REFERENCING THE EXISTENCE OF OTHER WORLDS. IT'S ALMOST ILLEGIBLE BUT STILL CERTAINLY FORBIDDEN.", hasIcon: false, goldCost: $giftprice, discountRate: 0, extraDesc: "Chandry cuts you a half-sly, half-nervous look when you pick the dense volume up. He says in a low voice, \"Not everyone notices that particular book, which is why I think there's some protection on it—and why I think it might have been meant to fall into your hands, my friend. It's contraband, of course, so better hide it away somewhere until you use it. Or do you have another friend who might be interested in this kind of thing?\"<br><br>", onBuyMessage: "\"Of course! And, ahem, if you could just keep that particular purchase between us... Yes, thank you, your discretion is appreciated!\""}, {itemTag: "lavinetgift", hideItem: $lavinetgift is true or $purchasedlavinetgift is true, setVariablesWhenBoughtTo: [{varName: "lavinetgift", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}, {varName: "purchasedlavinetgift", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}], name: "ORNATE HAIRPIN", desc: "A GLITTERING AND ELABORATE HAIRPIN IN THE SHAPE OF AN ORCHID BLOOM. IT LOOKS QUITE EXPENSIVE.", hasIcon: false, goldCost: $giftprice, discountRate: 0, extraDesc: "Chandry nods. \"That's a fine gift fit for a fine lady. Or a man, I suppose—but I hear that the Princess of Vim wears one just like it, and so the ladies of courts all over the world have taken to following her example. You'd do well to give this to someone who wants to be treated like royalty.\"", onBuyMessage: "\"Good choice! Anything else?\""}, {itemTag: "brionygift", hideItem: $brionygift is true or $purchasedbrionygift is true, setVariablesWhenBoughtTo: [{varName: "brionygift", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}, {varName: "purchasedbrionygift", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}], name: "PAINTING SET", desc: "A PORTABLE KIT CONTAINING SUPPLIES FOR AN AMATEUR ARTIST, INCLUDING SEVERAL COLORFUL POTS OF PAINT, PENCILS, BRUSHES, AND PAPER.", hasIcon: false, goldCost: $giftprice, discountRate: 0, extraDesc: "Chandry nods. \"This is a good gift for anyone who has an active imagination, experiences they want to capture, or things within their soul they can't express. Sometimes pictures can convey more than words, and open a window into the mind.\" He scratches his cheek carefully to avoid wiping off the rouge. \"Of course, <i>I</i> don't have trouble expressing myself. But some people do.\"", onBuyMessage: "\"Good choice! Anything else?\""}, {itemTag: "flowergift", isConsumable: true, setVariablesWhenBoughtTo: [{varName: "flowergift", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}, {varName: "flowernumber", varType: "int", setValue: $flowernumber, addAmount: 1}], name: "BOUQUET OF FLOWERS", desc: "BOUQUETS OF VIBRANT, LONG-LASTING FLOWERS.", hasIcon: false, goldCost: $giftprice, discountRate: 0, extraDesc: "Chandry claps enthusiastically. \"But of course! We have all kinds, of all colors and varieties. These even have a charm laid on them to keep them lasting far longer than your typical bouquets: hence the high price! You can even buy as many as you like. There's no one who doesn't appreciate receiving flowers!\"", onBuyMessage: "\"Thank you!\""}, ], }, misc: { tabKey: "misc", tabName: "MISCELLANEOUS", items: [ {itemTag: "unopenedpack", hideItem: $album is false, isConsumable: true, setVariablesWhenBoughtTo: [{varName: "unopenedpack", varType: "int", setValue: $unopenedpack, addAmount: 1}], name: "RANGERS OF BLEST TRADING CARDS", desc: "TRADING CARDS OF EXTREMELY DUBIOUS LEGAL INTEGRITY. THE ENTIRE CITY IS IN A FERVOR OVER THEM. EACH PACK COMES WITH THREE RANDOM CARDS.", hasIcon: false, goldCost: 30, discountRate: 0, extraDesc: "<<if $cardintro is false>> <<set $cardintro to true>> Chandry blinks at his little wooden box of wrapped trading card packs. \"Oh, my friend, you are interested in these baubles too?\" His voice is vaguely pitying. \"I… do not quite understand them… but they are very popular with the youth of today. Each pack comes with three random cards. You may receive something you've gotten before… or you may find the rarest card of them all. I suppose that's the joy of them, eh?\" He pauses for a lengthy, heavy moment. \"They are quite expensive for what they are, aren't they? And yet I am afraid there's little I can do. The whole city is in an uproar over these—and not just children, but adults, too—and their mysterious creator is very adamant about the prices they should be sold at. The game has such a vice-grip on this city that they can sell the cards for whatever they like, I think.\" He shrugs. \"Anyway, please feel free to buy as many packs as you like, but you'll have to open them elsewhere. The last time I allowed someone to open their pack in front of my stall, they uncovered what appeared to be a very rare specimen, and the shop was nearly mobbed!\" <<elseif $tradingcardshave >= 15 and $rangersofblestposter is false>> <<set $rangersofblestposter to true>> Chandry nods, but before he moves to show you the packs of the cards, he pauses for a moment, staring intently into your face. <br><br> \"Ah,\" he says suddenly, bopping his fist into his other palm, \"my friend! You have nearly collected all of the special edition cards, haven't you?\" <br> <br> He turns and rummages in the box behind him for a moment, muttering to himself. Then, triumphantly, he pulls out a colorful poster and unfurls it with a flourish, like a herald about to announce his sovereign at a ball. <br> <br> \"Here,\" he says with pleasure. \"I have been instructed to present you with this complimentary gift, since you are such an enormous fan of this little game!\" <br><br> He all but shoves the poster into your hands. It's a special commemorative poster of the Rangers of Blest, depicting all twenty-five special characters making various action poses in a colorful and stunning array! You've heard only a hundred of these were made in the entire city! <br><br> You squash down the squeal of excitement and roll the poster up carefully, nodding seriously. \"Thank you, Chandry.\" <br><br> He claps his hands. \"Of course, of course! Now you can hang it in your room and announce to all your friends just how many cards you have bought!\" <br><br> You grimace, trying not to think about how much money you've blown on these cards. Still, the poster <i>is</i> very nice… \"Yes, well… let's see if I've got anything new today, then.\" <<else>>\"More cards, my friend? You're fast becoming one of my best customers!\"<</if>><br><br>", onBuyMessage: "\"I wish you luck in whatever you're seeking!\""}, {itemTag: "goggles", hideItem: $goggles is true, setVariablesWhenBoughtTo: [{varName: "goggles", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}], name: "DARK GOGGLES", desc: "A SET OF GOGGLES WITH DARKENED LENSES. THEY MIGHT HELP OBSCURE THE <i>ILADRIN</i> IN YOUR EYES.", hasIcon: false, goldCost: 10, discountRate: 0, extraDesc: "Chandry nods sagely. \"Ah, so you'd like to disguise your status as a Mage from strangers at first glance? Well, my friend, these will do the trick at a distance, though please be aware that they're only a cosmetic accessory: they won't give you any particular advantages in the field, especially not when someone is looking closely, and they don't work very well at night!\"", onBuyMessage: "\"Of course! Anything else?\""}, {itemTag: "cigarette", hideItem: $cigarette is true, setVariablesWhenBoughtTo: [{varName: "cigarette", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}], name: "SILVER SMOKING CASE", desc: "A SILVER CASE FILLED WITH SLIM CHARCH CIGARETTES.", hasIcon: false, goldCost: 5, discountRate: 0, extraDesc: "\"Of course! Cigarettes are all the rage now. Supposedly, they look more sophisticated than those great whopping pipes. Me, I wouldn't know. I never inhale anything except confetti.\"", onBuyMessage: "\"Very good! Anything else?\""}, {itemTag: "pipe", hideItem: $pipe is true, setVariablesWhenBoughtTo: [{varName: "pipe", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}], name: "SMOKING PIPE", desc: "A CURVED, POLISHED WOODEN PIPE STUFFED WITH CHARCH.", hasIcon: false, goldCost: 10, discountRate: 0, extraDesc: "\"Of course! It's quite the traditional old thing, isn't it? Makes one feel grand and dignified!\"", onBuyMessage: "\"Of course! Anything else?\""}, {itemTag: "fish", hideItem: $part lt 4 or $fish is true, setVariablesWhenBoughtTo: [{varName: "fish", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}], name: "PET FISH", desc: "A FISH???", hasIcon: false, goldCost: 150, discountRate: 0, extraDesc: "Chandry blinks as you stare at the large glass habitat with a lone fish swimming around inside of it. \"Oh, yes,\" he says, a tad proudly. \"It is the latest craze from Conte, my Shepherd friend—keeping a fish inside a glass bowl… but not to eat! It turns out this breed thrives in this kind of environment; it's the size of your thumb now, but it may someday grow to the size of a small dog! That will take several years, though. The habitat is specially magicked to clean the water and…\" <br> <br> He rattles off several more details as you stare at the fish happily swimming inside its habitat. It's a silvery little thing, almost translucent, with gold spots on its body and rippling, mane-like fins that flash with rainbows when they catch the light. <br> <br> Chandry catches you staring at the fish and nods knowingly. \"Would you like to take this little friend home with you?\" he asks helpfully. \"As I said, the habitat is enchanted to make care as easy as possible, and I am sure you could find a friend or two to check in when you are away on long missions…\" He quickly tabulates calculations on an abacus. \"With the cost of food, the habitat, and our little creature here, it would be a mere 150 deucalions…\"<br><br>", onBuyMessage: "Chandry beams. \"Excellent, excellent! I will have your new friend delivered to your room at no extra charge, right away, right away!\" He peers down at the habitat where your new fish is observing the goings-on with curious eyes. \"Goodbye, my friend! I shall remember you fondly!\""}, {itemTag: "plants", hideItem: $plants is true, setVariablesWhenBoughtTo: [{varName: "plants", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}], name: "STARTER SET OF PLANTS", desc: "A SET OF SMALL POTTED PLANTS AND SEEDLINGS INTENDED TO DECORATE A ROOM OR SHELF. THIS SET INCLUDES SPRIGS OF BASIL, MINT, LUCKY JADE, ALOE, A DWARF ORCHID, AND LEYHOLM PEONIES. REQUIRES INFREQUENT WATERING.", hasIcon: false, goldCost: 50, discountRate: 0, extraDesc: "Sold in a array of tiny, manageable pots, this undemanding collection of plants would be perfect for your room. <<if $tallysgift is true>> \"If I recall correctly, friend,\" Chandry says, scratching his painted chin, \"you also have that ginta plant that you purchased as a gift. You can keep it with this collection in your room and water them all at once—at least until you decide to finally give that plant away to its intended recipient.\" He nods to himself. <<else>> Chandry beams. \"These plants are specifically intended to grow as a low-maintenance collection. They require just a little sunlight and an average indoor space. And I'm sure you could find a friend or two to check in on them if you're away on a mission for more than a few weeks.\"<</if>><br><br>", onBuyMessage: "Chandry nods vigorously, beaming. \"Understood, my friend. I'll have these packaged and shipped to your rooms, free of charge.\" He turns smartly to the rest of his wares. \"Anything else catch your eye?\""}, {itemTag: "stuffedjester", hideItem: $stuffedjester is true, setVariablesWhenBoughtTo: [{varName: "stuffedjester", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}], name: "STUFFED JESTER", desc: "A LOVINGLY HAND-STITCHED PLUSHY OF A COLORFUL JESTER.", hasIcon: false, goldCost: 10, discountRate: .5, extraDesc: "\"Yes, yes, these are very popular toys!\" Chandry cries. \"I even have one myself! What's that, you say? A resemblance? No, I don't see it... but whatever the case, you have good taste!\"", onBuyMessage: "\"Of course! Anything else?\""}, {itemTag: "stuffedbear", hideItem: $stuffedbear is true, setVariablesWhenBoughtTo: [{varName: "stuffedbear", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}], name: "STUFFED BEAR", desc: "A SOFT YELLOW BEAR WITH FADED EYES AND AN ADORABLE SLUMP.", hasIcon: false, goldCost: 10, discountRate: 0, extraDesc: "\"But of course! Cute, fat little fellow, isn't he? Something adorably pathetic about him!\"", onBuyMessage: "\"Of course! Anything else?\""}, {itemTag: "stuffedrabbit", hideItem: $stuffedrabbit is true, setVariablesWhenBoughtTo: [{varName: "stuffedrabbit", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}], name: "STUFFED RABBIT", desc: "A PASTEL PINK RABBIT WITH A SERIOUS EXPRESSION AND UNBEARABLY SOFT EARS.", hasIcon: false, goldCost: 10, discountRate: 0, extraDesc: "\"But of course! I'll even throw in a real carrot with your purchase! Got to give your new friend something to munch on, no?\"", onBuyMessage: "\"Of course! Anything else?\""}, {itemTag: "musicbox", hideItem: $musicbox is true or $part lt 4, setVariablesWhenBoughtTo: [{varName: "musicbox", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}], name: "MUSIC BOX", desc: "AN EXQUISITELY-CRAFTED MUSIC BOX WITH A MECHANICALLY-SPUN WOODEN FIGURE OF AN ABRAMIC OAK TREE. IT PLAYS A SOMBER TUNE SIMILAR TO A MILITARY ELEGY OR PERHAPS EVEN A FUNERAL DIRGE.", hasIcon: false, goldCost: 20, discountRate: 0, extraDesc: "\"Chandry nods vigorously. \"Ah, you have a fine eye, my friend!\" he cries. \"Examine the wonderful craftsmanship of this box... the detail of the forest scene burned into the underside of the lid... and of course, the abramic oak figurine inside: the Hunters\' sacred symbol against the forces of darkness! I\'m told the wood of the figurine itself comes from a real piece of abramic oak, but there\'d be no real way of verifying that unless you have happen to have a Hunter friend...\"<br><br>", onBuyMessage: "\"Of course! I\'ll have that sent to your room right away. Anything else?\""}, {itemTag: "operaposter", hideItem: $operaposter is true, setVariablesWhenBoughtTo: [{varName: "operaposter", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}], name: "THEATRICAL POSTER", desc: "A COMMEMORATIVE POSTER OF THE HAVEN OPERA COMPANY PLAYERS STARRING IN AN OBSCURE PLAY, <i>THE PAINTED DEVIL.</i>", hasIcon: false, goldCost: 100, discountRate: .5, extraDesc: "Chandry's face transforms into a visage of pure and unadulterated joy. \"Ah, my friend!\" he cries, suddenly embracing you before you can move. \"You are a lover of the theatrical arts, too? Your taste… it transcends even the heavens themselves! This performance only ran for five shows—a poster for it is a rare commodity indeed! It will grace your room with such beauty that they might make a play based on your exploits in purchasing it alone!\"<br><br>", onBuyMessage: "He reverently unfurls the poster and even throws in a free frame for your troubles. It will be shipped to your room and will be available by the next time you check it. \"Of course, my friend, of course. Is there anything else you'd like to look at?\""}, {itemTag: "whabh", hideItem: $whabh is true, setVariablesWhenBoughtTo: [{varName: "whabh", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}], name: "NIGHT SKY PAINTING", desc: "AN EERIE GREEN-BLUE PAINTING OF THE MOON AND THE NIGHT SKY, MYSTERIOUSLY ENTITLED <i>WE HAVE ALWAYS BEEN HERE.</i>", hasIcon: false, goldCost: 200, discountRate: 0.5, extraDesc: "Chandry blinks, then nods. \"You're interested in this piece? You know, it's the funniest story, but… I do not recall ever purchasing this piece. I simply discovered it among my wares one way, as if it had dropped there, popping into existence out of nowhere.\"", onBuyMessage: "\"Of course!\" He informs you that the painting will be shipped to your room as a complimentary courtesy, and it will be there the next time you visit your quarters. \"Is there anything else you'd like to purchase, my friend?\""}, {itemTag: "romanticpainting", hideItem: $romanticpainting is true, setVariablesWhenBoughtTo: [{varName: "romanticpainting", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}], name: "ROMANTIC PAINTING", desc: "A SOFT-BRUSHED, ROMANTIC PAINTING OF TWO LOVERS PASSIONATELY REUNITING ON THE BATTLEFIELD.", hasIcon: false, goldCost: 200, discountRate: 0, extraDesc: "Chandry sighs, clasping his hands as he stares dreamily at the painting. \"Isn't it such a sight?\" he croons. \"I admit, I have oft stared at this painting and pondered on the story behind it. Who are the lovers? Was their story true? Who was the painter, and how did they capture the tender love in this scene so perfectly?\"", onBuyMessage: "\"I will have it wrapped and shipped to your rooms in the Shepherds' quarters shortly, my friend. Is there anything else you needed?\""}, {itemTag: "serenepainting", hideItem: $serenepainting is true, setVariablesWhenBoughtTo: [{varName: "serenepainting", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}], name: "SERENE PAINTING", desc: "A BRIGHT, SERENE PAINTING OF A TREE ON A HILL, OVERLOOKING A FLOWER-FILLED FIELD.", hasIcon: false, goldCost: 200, discountRate: 0, extraDesc: "Chandry nods. \"You have a good eye—this is one of a famous series of paintings called <i>Elysium.</i> It's quite heavenly to behold, isn't it?\"", onBuyMessage: "\"Of course, my friend, I'll have it wrapped and shipped to your rooms momentarily.\""}, {itemTag: "stormypainting", hideItem: $stormypainting is true, setVariablesWhenBoughtTo: [{varName: "stormypainting", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}], name: "STORMY PAINTING", desc: "A STORMY, TURBULENT PAINTING OF A SHIP STRUGGLING THROUGH A LIGHTNING-CRACKED GRAY SEA.", hasIcon: false, goldCost: 200, discountRate: 0, extraDesc: "Chandry cocks his head at you. \"They say the people drawn to this painting feel that it reflects something within them—that it resonates with the state of their souls. But of course, that's all hogwash, because <i>I</i> like it, and I am as calm and stolid as a monk.\" He grins at you. \"Need anything else?\"", onBuyMessage: "\"Of course, my friend, I'll have it wrapped and shipped to your rooms momentarily.\""}, {itemTag: "desertpainting", hideItem: $desertpainting is true, setVariablesWhenBoughtTo: [{varName: "desertpainting", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}], name: "DESERT PAINTING", desc: "A LUSH, COLORFUL PAINTING OF A DESERT LANDSCAPE WITH A PINK-GOLD SUNSET UNFOLDING ACROSS THE SKY.", hasIcon: false, goldCost: 200, discountRate: 0, extraDesc: "He beams at you. \"I quite like this piece. It's lovely how it illustrates the usually-harsh and barren landscape of the desert as something rich with life and color.\"", onBuyMessage: "\"Of course, my friend, I'll have it wrapped and shipped to your rooms momentarily.\""}, {itemTag: "abstractpainting", hideItem: $abstractpainting is true, setVariablesWhenBoughtTo: [{varName: "abstractpainting", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}], name: "ABSTRACT PAINTING", desc: "A STRANGE ABSTRACT PAINTING. IT'S TECHNICALLY JUST A CANVAS PAINTED PITCH BLACK, LIKE A WINDOW IN SPACE.", hasIcon: false, goldCost: 500, discountRate: 0, extraDesc: "Chandry huffs softly, almost imperceptibly. \"Of course, my friend,\" he says in a slightly haughty voice. \"You know, this piece was done by the notorious Sayotonaka—that famous designer in the South? They seem to do it all, spearheading the latest movements in fashion, painting, housewares…\" He waves vaguely at his own rumpled outfit, which consists of pants that have leopard spots on one leg and black-and-white stripes on the other. \"Alas, I know little about such a figure… As a fashion icon myself, I pay little attention to my so-called 'rivals.\'", onBuyMessage: "\"Of course, my friend, I'll have it wrapped and shipped to your rooms momentarily.\""}, {itemTag: "clownpainting", hideItem: $clownpainting is true or $chandry < 7, setVariablesWhenBoughtTo: [{varName: "clownpainting", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}], name: "CLOWN PAINTING", desc: "A TRULY HORRIFYING PAINTING OF A SMUDGED, HALF-MELTING CLOWN WITH RUNNY BLACK EYES TITLED <i>SELF-PORTRAIT.</i>", hasIcon: false, goldCost: 500, discountRate: 0, extraDesc: "You've never beheld a painting like this before… There's something about it that gives you the chills. The clown's eyeless face smirks at you one moment, then seems to be held in a rictus of abject terror the next. This bleak expression is utterly at odds with the childish, garish colors of the painting itself… <br><br>\"Ah,\" Chandry says wisely. \"This was made by, ah, a very secretive art master who resides here in Haven. His pieces are well-sought-after—hence the painting's high price. I understand that this particular painting holds significant personal value to him.\" <<if $cunning >= 40>>You regard him shrewdly. \"This art master wouldn't happen to be you, would it, Chandry?\" <br><br> He blinks at you for a moment—then his eyes bug out comically. \"I?\" he cries. \"<i>I</i>? My friend, I am flattered, but even I could never rival the skill, the <i>emotion</i> of this piece!\" He points to the painting's nauseating colors. \"If I were the creator of such a masterpiece, surely, I would tell you!\" <br> <br> You glance at the placard on the picture, which is attributed to <i>Anonymous</i>. \"Why is it titled 'Self-Portrait,' then?\" <br> <br> He looks vaguely offended. \"You must ask the artist, my friend. Besides—that looks nothing like me!\"<</if>><br><br>", onBuyMessage: "Chandry nods enthusiastically. \"Very good, very good. I'll have this wrapped and sent to your rooms in the Shepherds' compound right away. I have to use a special packaging. The artist insisted that only the painting's true owner would be allowed to lay hands directly on the piece…\" He smiles at you. \"Is there anything else you wanted?\""}, {itemTag: "clumsyposter", hideItem: $clumsyposter is true, setVariablesWhenBoughtTo: [{varName: "clumsyposter", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}], name: "TACKY POSTER", desc: "A CLUMSY POSTER THAT READS 'LIVE. LAUGH. LOVE.'", hasIcon: false, goldCost: 50, discountRate: .9, extraDesc: "Chandry makes a poorly-concealed grimace. \"Thank you, my Shepherd friend,\" he says. \"I have had the worst luck trying to sell that piece. For some reason, most who encounter it experience an inexplicable feeling of loathing and hatred when beholding those words. As for me, I quite like the saying.\" He turns and lets loose a sudden shriek, startling passerby. \"LIVE. LAUGH. LOVE. WORDS TO LIVE BY!\"", onBuyMessage: "He turns back to you as if nothing had happened. \"Of course! I'll have this wrapped and shipped to your rooms post-haste, my friend. Was there anything else you wanted?\""}, {itemTag: "muraloldfaith", hideItem: $muraloldfaith is true or $belief != "oldfaith", setVariablesWhenBoughtTo: [{varName: "muraloldfaith", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}], name: "RELIGIOUS PAINTING (OLD FAITH)", desc: "AN EPIC SCENE DEPICTING THE ENDARKENED, THE CHILDREN OF LIGHT, THE TAINTED, AND THE OLD GODS CLASHING DURING THE DAWN WARS.", hasIcon: false, goldCost: 500, discountRate: 0, extraDesc: "Chandry whistles, regarding the sprawling, intricate portrait, painted almost like a tapestry that spans the ages. \"This is a classic piece of art, my friend,\" he says softly. \"So inspiring, so awe-full…\"", onBuyMessage: "\"Of course! I'll have this wrapped and shipped to your rooms post-haste. Was there anything else that caught your eye?\""}, {itemTag: "muralonegod", hideItem: $muralonegod is true or $belief != "one-god", setVariablesWhenBoughtTo: [{varName: "muralonegod", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}], name: "RELIGIOUS PAINTING (ONE-GOD)", desc: "AN EPIC SCENE DEPICTING THE ONE-GOD DESCENDING FROM THE HEAVENS TO TOUCH THE MIND OF A SUPPLICATING SAINT.", hasIcon: false, goldCost: 500, discountRate: 0, extraDesc: "Chandry whistles, regarding the sprawling, intricate portrait, imbued with an almost holy light. \"This is a classic piece of art, my friend,\" he says softly. \"So inspiring, so awe-full…\"", onBuyMessage: "\"Of course! I'll have this wrapped and shipped to your rooms post-haste. Was there anything else that caught your eye?\""}, {itemTag: "ketpainting", hideItem: $ketpainting is true or $heritage != "Ket", setVariablesWhenBoughtTo: [{varName: "ketpainting", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}], name: "KET PAINTING", desc: "A PAINTING DONE IN THE SIMPLE YET ELEGANT KET STYLE, DEPICTING A CRANE WADING AMONG THRUSHES AND SPEARING FISH WITH ITS BEAK.", hasIcon: false, goldCost: 500, discountRate: 0, extraDesc: "Chandry nods. \"This is an ancient, elegant painting down by a Ket master,\" he says. \"They say it's a metaphor, though for what, I think you'd have to understand Ket literature and poetry to know. Too stuffy for me—but the art is very captivating.\"", onBuyMessage: "\"Of course! I'll have this wrapped and ready in your room shortly, my friend. Was there anything else that you wanted to see?\""}, {itemTag: "elfpainting", hideItem: $elfpainting is true or $heritage != "Elf", setVariablesWhenBoughtTo: [{varName: "elfpainting", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}], name: "ELVEN PAINTING", desc: "A PAINTING DONE IN THE IMPRESSIONISTIC YET METICULOUS STYLE OF THE ELVES, DEPICTING A MAIDEN RIDING ON THE BACK OF A PHANTOM-LIKE BLACK AHFURI.", hasIcon: false, goldCost: 500, discountRate: 0, extraDesc: "Chandry nods. \"This is an ancient, detailed painting done by an Elven master,\" he says. \"They say this maiden was a queen among the Elves… but before that, she was simply a wanderer in the forest, friend to talking ahfuri and the birds.\"", onBuyMessage: "\"Of course! I'll have this wrapped and ready in your room shortly, my friend. Was there anything else that you wanted to see?\""}, {itemTag: "hunterpainting", hideItem: $hunterpainting is true or $heritage != "Hunter", setVariablesWhenBoughtTo: [{varName: "hunterpainting", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}], name: "HUNTER PAINTING", desc: "A PAINTING DONE IN STARK, BOLD HUNTER STYLE OF THE HUNTERS, DEPICTING AN ARMORED KNIGHT RIDING TO VANQUISH THE FORCES OF DARKNESS IN THE FORM OF SOME TAINTED CREATURE.", hasIcon: false, goldCost: 500, discountRate: 0, extraDesc: "Chandry nods. \"They say that it's actually a metaphor for something… but for what, I think you'd have to study the Hunter texts and literature to know.\"", onBuyMessage: "\"Of course! I'll have this wrapped and ready in your room shortly, my friend. Was there anything else that you wanted to see?\""}, {itemTag: "normpainting", hideItem: $normpainting is true or $heritage != "Norm", setVariablesWhenBoughtTo: [{varName: "normpainting", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}], name: "NORM PAINTING", desc: "A PAINTING DONE IN THE THOUGHTFUL, FOCUSED STYLE OF THE NORMS, DEPICTING BAREFOOT FARMERS AND PEASANTS BENDING OVER A GOLDEN HARVEST.", hasIcon: false, goldCost: 500, discountRate: 0, extraDesc: "Chandry smiles. \"This painting reminds me of my travels,\" he says, his voice uncharacteristically soft. \"You could find scenes like this all over the Continent, back then. It captures a certain… spirit. A determination to live that is truly inspiring.\"", onBuyMessage: "He shakes himself a little. \"Of course! I'll have this wrapped and ready in your room shortly, my friend. Was there anything else that you wanted to see?\""}, {itemTag: "cutlass", hideItem: $cutlass is true, setVariablesWhenBoughtTo: [{varName: "cutlass", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}], name: "DECORATIVE PIRATE CUTLASS", desc: "AN ANCIENT, GILDED CUTLASS FRAMED IN A FANCY DISPLAY CASE.", hasIcon: false, goldCost: 300, discountRate: 0, extraDesc: "Chandry smiles. \"This cutlass is said to have belonged to the Pirate Queen, Sadye 'Fuming' Cross,\" he says. \"I admit, the low price for such a prize seemed dubious to me… but the weapon seems to be authentic. Sadye, as I recall, was infamous for using her blade to, ah…\" He trails off after a moment. \"Never mind.\"", onBuyMessage: "\"Of course! I'll have this wrapped and ready in your room shortly, my friend. Was there anything else that you wanted to see?\""}, {itemTag: "deadhead", hideItem: $deadhead is true, setVariablesWhenBoughtTo: [{varName: "deadhead", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}], name: "MOUNTED STAG HEAD", desc: "THE MOUNTED HEAD OF A STAG WITH RARE WHITE ANTLERS.", hasIcon: false, goldCost: 300, discountRate: 0, extraDesc: "<<if $gladiatorjoin is true>> Chandry gives you a strange look. \"Isn't there one among your ranks named Staghead, my Shepherd friend?\" he says in a tentative voice. \"Ah… it doesn't have anything to do with him? Well, all right…\" <<else>> Chandry nods. \"It is said stags with these white antlers are auspicious. They appear only in the mist of the morning after a full moon, and their appearance is supposed to bring health and vitality to all who see it. The person who hunted this creature was bold and one-of-a-kind, indeed.\"<</if>><br><br>", onBuyMessage: "\"Of course! I'll have this shipped to your quarters post-haste. Was there anything else that you wanted?\""}, {itemTag: "floweryrug", hideItem: $floweryrug is true, setVariablesWhenBoughtTo: [{varName: "floweryrug", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}], name: "PINK RUG", desc: "A PASTEL-PINK RUG COVERED IN DAINTY WHITE FLOWERS.", hasIcon: false, goldCost: 500, discountRate: 0, extraDesc: " Chandry nods. \"I never thought you'd like such a flowery, pink thing, Hero,\" he says in approving tones.", onBuyMessage: "\"Of course! I will have this packed and delivered to your rooms post-haste. Was there anything else that you wanted?\""}, {itemTag: "yellowrug", hideItem: $yellowrug is true, setVariablesWhenBoughtTo: [{varName: "yellowrug", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}], name: "YELLOW RUG", desc: "A CHEERY, BRIGHT RUG THE COLOR OF THE SUN.", hasIcon: false, goldCost: 500, discountRate: 0, extraDesc: "Chandry nods. \"It sort of reminds me of your soul,\" he says in cheerful, mysterious tones.", onBuyMessage: "\"Of course! I will have this packed and delivered to your rooms post-haste. Was there anything else that you wanted?\""}, {itemTag: "greenrug", hideItem: $greenrug is true, setVariablesWhenBoughtTo: [{varName: "greenrug", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}], name: "GREEN RUG", desc: "AN EARTHY RUG IN FOREST-GREEN TONES.", hasIcon: false, goldCost: 500, discountRate: 0, extraDesc: "Chandry nods. \"This brings a very down-to-earth flair to any room,\" he says. \"Get it? Because—oh, yes, you understand.\"", onBuyMessage: "\"Of course! I will have this packed and delivered to your rooms post-haste. Was there anything else that you wanted?\""}, {itemTag: "searug", hideItem: $searug is true, setVariablesWhenBoughtTo: [{varName: "searug", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}], name: "TURQUOISE RUG", desc: "A CALMING, SEA-COLORED RUG IN GLASSY TURQUOISE.", hasIcon: false, goldCost: 500, discountRate: 0, extraDesc: "Chandry nods. \"This rug always makes me think I'm in the ocean,\" he says. He points suddenly, startling you. \"Watch out! There are sharks\"", onBuyMessage: "\"Of course! I will have this packed and delivered to your rooms post-haste. Was there anything else that you wanted?\""}, {itemTag: "bluerug", hideItem: $bluerug is true, setVariablesWhenBoughtTo: [{varName: "bluerug", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}], name: "BLUE RUG", desc: "A DEEP NAVY-BLUE RUG WITH SILVER TRIM.", hasIcon: false, goldCost: 500, discountRate: 0, extraDesc: "\"A Shepherd rug for a Shepherd hero, eh?\" He salutes.", onBuyMessage: "\"Of course! I will have this packed and delivered to your rooms post-haste. Was there anything else that you wanted?\""}, {itemTag: "purplerug", hideItem: $purplerug is true, setVariablesWhenBoughtTo: [{varName: "purplerug", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}], name: "PURPLE RUG", desc: "A ROYAL PURPLE RUG WITH AN EXPENSIVE FRINGE.", hasIcon: false, goldCost: 500, discountRate: 0, extraDesc: " Chandry nods. \"It's a rug fit for a sovereign, if I do say so myself.\"", onBuyMessage: "\"Of course! I will have this packed and delivered to your rooms post-haste. Was there anything else that you wanted?\""}, {itemTag: "blackrug", hideItem: $blackrug is true, setVariablesWhenBoughtTo: [{varName: "blackrug", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}], name: "BLACK RUG", desc: "A HAUTE-COUTURE BLACK STATEMENT RUG.", hasIcon: false, goldCost: 500, discountRate: 0, extraDesc: "Chandry nods. \"It's a bold piece, wouldn't you say? In fact, I'd go so far as to say it emulates the color of my own soul.\"", onBuyMessage: "\"Of course! I will have this packed and delivered to your rooms post-haste. Was there anything else that you wanted?\""}, {itemTag: "wovenrug", hideItem: $wovenrug is true, setVariablesWhenBoughtTo: [{varName: "wovenrug", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}], name: "WOVEN RUG", desc: "A HAND-WOVEN RUG SPORTING ALL THE COLORS OF THE RAINBOW.", hasIcon: false, goldCost: 700, discountRate: 0, extraDesc: " Chandry nods. \"That's a lovely piece, my friend, lovely! It's my favorite rug of my whole collection—you are lucky that there's even one left, for I bought the rest for my own house!\" He beams. \"Now we'll match!\"", onBuyMessage: "\"Of course! I will have this packed and delivered to your rooms post-haste. Was there anything else that you wanted?\""}, {itemTag: "shaggyrug", hideItem: $shaggyrug is true, setVariablesWhenBoughtTo: [{varName: "shaggyrug", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}], name: "SHEEPSKIN RUG", desc: "A SOFT, SHAGGY RUG MADE OF FLUFFY WHITE SHEEPSKIN.", hasIcon: false, goldCost: 700, discountRate: 0, extraDesc: "Chandry nods. \"Of course! The merchant who sold this to me—a specialist in rugs—claims that this carpet feels as if you are walking on clouds! As such, I haven't tried it myself. Too afraid I'll plunge through.\"", onBuyMessage: "\"Of course! I will have this packed and delivered to your rooms post-haste. Was there anything else that you wanted?\""}, {itemTag: "furrug", hideItem: $furrug is true, setVariablesWhenBoughtTo: [{varName: "furrug", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}], name: "FUR RUG", desc: "A RICH BROWN BEARSKIN RUG.", hasIcon: false, goldCost: 700, discountRate: 0, extraDesc: "Chandry nods. \"Of course! It's quite a rustic thing, isn't it? Sometimes I get quite sad, thinking of a majestic bear being turned into a thing we clean our shoes on… but the merchant who sold me this informed me that this is simply fabric woven into the <i>guise</i> of a bear!\" He smiles brightly. \"Isn't that brilliant?\"", onBuyMessage: "\"Of course! I will have this packed and delivered to your rooms post-haste. Was there anything else that you were eyeing?\""}, {itemTag: "exoticug", hideItem: $exoticrug is true, setVariablesWhenBoughtTo: [{varName: "exoticrug", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}], name: "EXOTIC RUG", desc: "A RICH RED RUG EMBROIDERED WITH EXOTIC GOLD DESIGNS.", hasIcon: false, goldCost: 1000, discountRate: 0, extraDesc: "Chandry nods. \"Yes, of course! You have fine taste, my friend. These are cutting-edge rugs—pieces in this style are being used in the finest palaces across the Continent, from the Jalis sultans to the Courtshore kings. Anyone who sees this in your quarters will find themselves transported to an elysian palace!\"", onBuyMessage: "\"Very good! I'll have this packaged and delivered safely to your quarters as soon as possible. Was there anything else that you were eyeing?\""}, {itemTag: "lacerug", hideItem: $lacerug is true, setVariablesWhenBoughtTo: [{varName: "lacerug", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}], name: "LACE RUG", desc: "A DELICATE WHITE RUG MADE OF FINE, HAND-STITCHED LACE.", hasIcon: false, goldCost: 1000, discountRate: 0, extraDesc: "Chandry nods. \"A fine choice, my friend! When I first beheld this rug, I thought it a giant doily for my floor—or a tea cozy, or something like that. It turns out that this is an object of high fashion in the North, especially in the noble houses and palaces of the wealthy! Its impeccable white material and delicate weavings display a level of wealth not seen by most everyday citizens. It's a fine choice for your rooms—very impressive for visitors!\"<br><br>", onBuyMessage: "\"Very good! I'll have it carefully packaged and delivered safely to your quarters as soon as possible. Was there anything else that you were eyeing?\""}, ], } }>> <<inventory_holder $shopTabsData "shop_holder fit-to-passages-holder">>

<<nobr>> <div class="shop-buy-dialogue"> <div class="column-holder ignore-responsive"> <<if $part is 4>><div class="flex-column col-1 char-image-capra" @data-type="_currentDialogueData.imageType" @data-img-subtype="_currentDialogueData.imageSubType"> </div> <<else>> <div class="flex-column col-1 char-image" @data-type="_currentDialogueData.imageType" @data-img-subtype="_currentDialogueData.imageSubType"> </div> <</if>> <div class="flex-column scroll-viewport col-3"> <div class="scroll-holder">  <div class="main-details"> /* This is shop buy dialogue with some text here bla bla bla: */ </div> /* <p> Item tag: _currentDialogueData.itemTag <br /> isConsumable: _currentDialogueData.isConsumable <br /> Desc: _currentDialogueData.extraDesc <br /> Cost: _currentDialogueData.itemCost <br /> DiscountedCost: _currentDialogueData.itemCostDiscounted <br /> DiscountedRate: _currentDialogueData.itemDiscountRate <br /> Name: _currentDialogueData.itemName <br /> itemSetVarsOnBuy: <<print (JSON.stringify(_currentDialogueData.itemSetVarsOnBuy))>> <br /> </p> */ _currentDialogueData.extraDesc  <div class="column-holder flex-justify-between buttons-holder"> <<for _i to 0; _i lt _currentDialogueData.actions.length; _i++>> <<if _currentDialogueData.actions[_i] === 'buy_shop_item' && !_currentDialogueData.canBuy>>  <div>* You don't have enough gold to buy this item, earn more!</div> <<else>> <<if _currentDialogueData.actions[_i].dataType>>  <div class="btn-boxy btn-buy margin" @data-action-type="_currentDialogueData.actions[_i].actionType" @data-type="_currentDialogueData.actions[_i].dataType">_currentDialogueData.actions[_i].buttonText</div> <<else>> <div class="btn-boxy btn-buy margin" @data-action-type="_currentDialogueData.actions[_i].actionType">_currentDialogueData.actions[_i].buttonText</div> <</if>> <</if>> <</for>> </div> </div> </div> </div> </div> <</nobr>>

<<if $tradingcardshave >= 24 and recall("achieve_cardcaptor") is undefined>><<run memorize("numberofachievements", recall("numberofachievements", 0) + 1)>><<run memorize("achieve_cardcaptor", true)>><<if settings.notifications is true>><<notify 5s>><span class="fas fa-trophy"></span> Achievement:<br> Gotta Collect 'Em All <br><br> <span class="desc">Completely filled your album of Rangers of Blest cards.</span><</notify>><</if>><</if>> <center><span class="heading">Special Cards</span></center> <br> <div class="cardcontainer"> <<if $bladetradingcard is true>><div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/tradingcard_special5.jpg" alt="Blade Bronwyn" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link 'Blade Bronwyn'>><<script>> Dialog.setup("Blade Bronwyn"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("bladetc").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">Blade Bronwyn</span></center></div> <<else>><div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/tradingcard_special5.jpg" alt="?" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link '?'>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">?</span></center></div> <</if>> <<if $troubletradingcard is true>><div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/tradingcard_special5.jpg" alt="Trouble Alder" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link 'Trouble Alder'>><<script>> Dialog.setup("Trouble Alder"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("troubletc").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">Trouble Alder</span></center></div> <<else>><div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/tradingcard_special5.jpg" alt="?" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link '?'>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">?</span></center></div> <</if>> <<if $tallystradingcard is true>> <div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/tradingcard_special5.jpg" alt="Tallys Ironwood" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link 'Tallys Ironwood'>><<script>> Dialog.setup("Tallys Ironwood"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("tallystc").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">Tallys Ironwood</span></center></div> <<else>><div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/tradingcard_special5.jpg" alt="?" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link '?'>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">?</span></center></div> <</if>> <<if $sherytradingcard is true>><div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/tradingcard_special5.jpg" alt="Shery Acquell" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link 'Shery Acquell'>><<script>> Dialog.setup("Shery Acquell"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("sherytc").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">Shery Acquell</span></center></div> <<else>><div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/tradingcard_special5.jpg" alt="?" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link '?'>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">?</span></center></div> <</if>> </div> <div class="cardcontainer"> <<if $mctradingcard is true>><div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/tradingcard_special5.jpg" alt="The Hero of Haven" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link '$firstname $surname'>><<script>> Dialog.setup("The Hero of Haven"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("mctc").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">$firstname $surname</span></center></div> <<else>><div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/tradingcard_special5.jpg" alt="?" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link '?'>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">?</span></center></div> <</if>> <<if $rieltradingcard is true>><div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/tradingcard_special5.jpg" alt="Riel Syndran" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link 'Riel Syndran'>><<script>> Dialog.setup("Riel Syndran"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("rieltc").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">Riel Syndran</span></center></div> <<else>><div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/tradingcard_special5.jpg" alt="?" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link '?'>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">?</span></center></div> <</if>> <<if $chasetradingcard is true>><div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/tradingcard_special5.jpg" alt="Chase Trinaeste" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link 'Chase Trinaeste'>><<script>> Dialog.setup("Chase Trinaeste"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("chasetc").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">Chase Trinaeste</span></center></div> <<else>><div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/tradingcard_special5.jpg" alt="?" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link '?'>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">?</span></center></div> <</if>> <<if $redtradingcard is true>><div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/tradingcard_special5.jpg" alt="Red Antiqua" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link 'Red Antiqua'>><<script>> Dialog.setup("Red Antiqua"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("redtc").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">Red Antiqua</span></center></div> <<else>><div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/tradingcard_special5.jpg" alt="?" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link '?'>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">?</span></center></div> <</if>> </div> <div class="cardcontainer"> <<if $aylatradingcard is true>><div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/tradingcard_special5.jpg" alt="Ayla Aescar" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link 'Ayla Aescar'>><<script>> Dialog.setup("Ayla Aescar"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("aylatc").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">Ayla Aescar</span></center></div> <<else>><div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/tradingcard_special5.jpg" alt="?" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link '?'>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">?</span></center></div> <</if>> <<if $halektradingcard is true>><div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/tradingcard_special5.jpg" alt="Halek Prince" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link 'Halek Prince'>><<script>> Dialog.setup("Halek Prince"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("halektc").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">Halek Prince</span></center></div> <<else>><div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/tradingcard_special5.jpg" alt="?" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link '?'>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">?</span></center></div> <</if>> <<if $brionytradingcard is true>><div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/tradingcard_special5.jpg" alt="Briony Stormbreaker" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link 'Briony Stormbreaker'>><<script>> Dialog.setup("Briony Stormbreaker"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("brionytc").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">Briony Stormbreaker</span></center></div> <<else>><div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/tradingcard_special5.jpg" alt="?" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link '?'>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">?</span></center></div> <</if>> <<if $lavinettradingcard is true>><div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/tradingcard_special5.jpg" alt="Lavinet Naveen" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link 'Lavinet Naveen'>><<script>> Dialog.setup("Lavinet Naveen"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("lavinettc").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">Lavinet Naveen</span></center></div> <<else>><div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/tradingcard_special5.jpg" alt="?" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link '?'>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">?</span></center></div> <</if>> </div> <br> <center><span class="heading">Standard Cards </span></center> <br> <div class="cardcontainer"> <<if $mimirtradingcard is true>><div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/tradingcard_special2.jpg" alt="Mimir Esthin" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link 'Mimir Esthin'>><<script>> Dialog.setup("Mimir Esthin"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("mimirtc").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">Mimir Esthin</span></center></div> <<else>><div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/tradingcard_special2.jpg" alt="?" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link '?'>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">?</span></center></div> <</if>> <<if $prihinetradingcard is true>><div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/tradingcard_special2.jpg" alt="Prihine Naveen" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link 'Prihine Naveen'>><<script>> Dialog.setup("Prihine Naveen"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("prihinetc").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">Prihine Naveen</span></center></div> <<else>><div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/tradingcard_special2.jpg" alt="?" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link '?'>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">?</span></center></div> <</if>> <<if $croelletradingcard is true>><div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/tradingcard_special2.jpg" alt="Mysterious Watcher" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link 'Mysterious Watcher'>><<script>> Dialog.setup("Mysterious Watcher"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("croelletc").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">Mysterious Watcher</span></center></div> <<else>><div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/tradingcard_special2.jpg" alt="?" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link '?'>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">?</span></center></div> <</if>> <<if $chandrytradingcard is true>><div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/tradingcard_special2.jpg" alt="Town Clown" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link 'Town Clown'>><<script>> Dialog.setup("Town Clown"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("chandrytc").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">Town Clown</span></center></div> <<else>><div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/tradingcard_special2.jpg" alt="?" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link '?'>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">?</span></center></div> <</if>> </div> <div class="cardcontainer"> <<if $vivketradingcard is true>><div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/tradingcard_special2.jpg" alt="Vivek the Gargoyle" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link 'Vivek the Gargoyle'>><<script>> Dialog.setup("Vivek the Gargoyle"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("vivektc").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">Vivek the Gargoyle</span></center></div> <<else>><div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/tradingcard_special2.jpg" alt="?" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link '?'>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">?</span></center></div> <</if>> <<if $stagheadtradingcard is true>><div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/tradingcard_special2.jpg" alt="Staghead" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link 'Staghead'>><<script>> Dialog.setup("Staghead"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("stagheadtc").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">Staghead</span></center></div> <<else>><div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/tradingcard_special2.jpg" alt="?" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link '?'>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">?</span></center></div> <</if>> <<if $mountainjackaltradingcard is true>> <div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/tradingcard_special2.jpg" alt="Mountain Jackal" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link 'Mountain Jackal'>><<script>> Dialog.setup("Mountain Jackal"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("mountainjackaltc").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">Mountain Jackal</span></center></div> <<else>><div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/tradingcard_special2.jpg" alt="?" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link '?'>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">?</span></center></div> <</if>> <<if $pantradingcard is true>><div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/tradingcard_special2.jpg" alt="Panrachus Corannus" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link 'Panrachus Corannus'>><<script>> Dialog.setup("Panrachus Corannus"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("pantc").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">Panrachus Corannus</span></center></div> <<else>><div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/tradingcard_special2.jpg" alt="?" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link '?'>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">?</span></center></div> <</if>> </div> <div class="cardcontainer"> <<if $neontradingcard is true>><div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/tradingcard_special2.jpg" alt="Saleneon Perdonas" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link 'Saleneon Perdonas'>><<script>> Dialog.setup("Saleneon Perdonas"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("neontc").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">Saleneon Perdonas</span></center></div> <<else>><div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/tradingcard_special2.jpg" alt="?" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link '?'>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">?</span></center></div> <</if>> <<if $aerintradingcard is true>><div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/tradingcard_special2.jpg" alt="Aerin Nightwood" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link 'Aerin Nightwood'>><<script>> Dialog.setup("Aerin Nightwood"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("aerintc").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">Aerin Nightwood</span></center></div> <<else>><div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/tradingcard_special2.jpg" alt="?" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link '?'>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">?</span></center></div> <</if>> <<if $aritradingcard is true>><div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/tradingcard_special2.jpg" alt="Ariella Caffreal" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link 'Ariella Caffreal'>><<script>> Dialog.setup("Ariella Caffreal"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("aritc").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">Ariella Caffreal</span></center></div> <<else>><div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/tradingcard_special2.jpg" alt="?" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link '?'>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">?</span></center></div> <</if>> <<if $katotradingcard is true>><div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/tradingcard_special2.jpg" alt="Kato Ibbok" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link 'Kato Ibbok'>><<script>> Dialog.setup("Kato Ibbok"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("katotc").processText()); Dialog.open(); <</script>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">Kato Ibbok</span></center></div> <<else>><div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/tradingcard_special2.jpg" alt="?" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link '?'>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">?</span></center></div> <</if>> </div> <br><br><br><br>

<<if $unopenedpack is 0>>You have no more packs to open. <br> <br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Return</span></div></div>' "Inventory">><</link>></center> <<else>><div class="cardcontainer"> <div class="card-item"><center><div class="cardoverlay"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/cards/backs/tradingcard1.jpg" alt="Draw Three Cards" class="card"><div class="cardtransition"><div class="cardlink"><<link "Draw Three Cards" "cardresults">><<set $unopenedpack -=1>><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></div></div></div><span class="cardname">Draw Three Cards</span></center></div> <</if>>

<<if $randomcard is 1>> <center>You drew Rangers of Blest Trading Card #1: Blade Bronwyn!</center> <<if $bladeromance is true>><br>(Aw, it feels kind of funny to have a personal trading card of your… boyfriend, or whatever he is—but at least you'll get to treasure a memento of him forever.)<</if>> <<if $bladetradingcard is true>> <br>You already have this card though, so you tuck it back into its packet. Then you decide to draw again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardresults2">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<else>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardresults2">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><<set $bladetradingcard to true>><<set $tradingcardshave += 1>><</link>></center> <</if>> <<elseif $randomcard is 2>> <center>You drew Rangers of Blest Trading Card #2: Trouble Alder!</center> <<if $troubleromance is true>><br>(Aw, it feels kind of funny to have a personal trading card of your… boyfriend, or whatever he is—but at least you'll get to treasure a memento of him forever.)<</if>> <<if $troubletradingcard is true>> <br>You already have this card though, so you tuck it back into its packet. Then you decide to draw again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardresults2">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<else>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardresults2">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><<set $troubletradingcard to true>><<set $tradingcardshave += 1>><</link>></center> <</if>> <<elseif $randomcard is 3>> <center>You drew Rangers of Blest Trading Card #3: Tallys Ironwood!</center> <<if $tallysromance is true or $tallyssex is true>><br>(Aw, it feels kind of funny to have a personal trading card of your… girlfriend, or lover, or whatever she is—but at least you'll get to treasure a memento of her forever.)<</if>> <<if $tallystradingcard is true>> <br>You already have this card though, so you tuck it back into its packet. Then you decide to draw again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardresults2">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<else>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardresults2">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><<set $tallystradingcard to true>><<set $tradingcardshave += 1>><</link>></center> <</if>> <<elseif $randomcard is 4>> <center>You drew Rangers of Blest Trading Card #4: Shery Acquell!</center> <<if $sheryromance is true>><br>(Aw, it feels kind of funny to have a personal trading card of your… girlfriend, or whatever she is—but at least you'll get to treasure a memento of her forever.)<</if>> <<if $sherytradingcard is true>> <br>You already have this card though, so you tuck it back into its packet. Then you decide to draw again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardresults2">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<else>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardresults2">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>> <<set $sherytradingcard to true>><<set $tradingcardshave += 1>><</link>></center> <</if>> <<elseif $randomcard is 5>> <center>You drew Rangers of Blest Trading Card #5: $firstname $surname!</center> <br>Oh, this is <i>you</i>! You still can't believe you have your own trading card... <<if $mctradingcard is true>> <br><br>You already have this card though, so you tuck it back into its packet. Then you decide to draw again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardresults2">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<else>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardresults2">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><<set $mctradingcard to true>><<set $tradingcardshave += 1>><</link>></center> <</if>> <<elseif $randomcard is 6 and $rieljoin is true>> <center>You drew Rangers of Blest Trading Card #6: Riel Syndran!</center> <<if $rielromance is true>><br>(Aw, it feels kind of funny to have a personal trading card of your… boyfriend, or whatever he is—but at least you'll get to treasure a memento of him forever.)<</if>> <<if $rieltradingcard is true>> <br>You already have this card though, so you tuck it back into its packet. Then you decide to draw again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardresults2">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<else>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardresults2">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><<set $rieltradingcard to true>><<set $tradingcardshave += 1>><</link>></center> <</if>> <<elseif $randomcard is 7 and $chasejoin is true>> <center>You drew Rangers of Blest Trading Card #7: Chase Trinaeste!</center> <<if $chaseromance is true>><br>(Aw, it feels kind of funny to have a personal trading card of your… boyfriend, or lover, or whatever he is—but at least you'll get to treasure a memento of him forever.)<</if>> <<if $chasetradingcard is true>> <br>You already have this card though, so you tuck it back into its packet. Then you decide to draw again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardresults2">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<else>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardresults2">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><<set $chasetradingcard to true>><<set $tradingcardshave += 1>><</link>></center> <</if>> <<elseif $randomcard is 8 and $redjoin is true>> <center>You drew Rangers of Blest Trading Card #8: Red Antiqua!</center> <<if $redromance is true>><br>(Aw, it feels kind of funny to have a personal trading card of your… boyfriend, or whatever he is—but at least you'll get to treasure a memento of him forever.)<</if>> <<if $redtradingcard is true>> <br>You already have this card though, so you tuck it back into its packet. Then you decide to draw again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardresults2">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<else>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardresults2">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><<set $redtradingcard to true>><<set $tradingcardshave += 1>><</link>></center> <</if>> <<elseif $randomcard is 9 and $aylajoin is true>> <center>You drew Rangers of Blest Trading Card #9: Ayla Aescar!</center> <<if $aylaromance is true>><br>(Aw, it feels kind of funny to have a personal trading card of your… girlfriend, or whatever she is—but at least you'll get to treasure a memento of her forever.)<</if>> <<if $aylatradingcard is true>> <br>You already have this card though, so you tuck it back into its packet. Then you decide to draw again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardresults2">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<else>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardresults2">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><<set $aylatradingcard to true>><<set $tradingcardshave += 1>><</link>></center> <</if>> <<elseif $randomcard is 10 and $halekjoin is true>> <center>You drew Rangers of Blest Trading Card #10: Halek Prince!</center> <<if $halektradingcard is true>> <br>You already have this card though, so you tuck it back into its packet. Then you decide to draw again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardresults2">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<else>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardresults2">><<set $halektradingcard to true>><<set $tradingcardshave += 1>><</link>></center> <</if>> <<elseif $randomcard is 11 and $brionyjoin is true>> <center>You drew Rangers of Blest Trading Card #11: Briony Stormbreaker!</center> <<if $brionyromance is true>><br>(Aw, it feels kind of funny to have a personal trading card of your… girlfriend, or whatever she is—but at least you'll get to treasure a memento of her forever.)<</if>> <<if $brionytradingcard is true>> <br>You already have this card though, so you tuck it back into its packet. Then you decide to draw again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardresults2">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<else>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardresults2">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><<set $brionytradingcard to true>><<set $tradingcardshave += 1>><</link>></center> <</if>> <<elseif $randomcard is 12 and $lavinetjoin is true>> <center>You drew Rangers of Blest Trading Card #12: Lavinet Naveen!</center> <<if $lavinetromance is true>><br>(Aw, it feels kind of funny to have a personal trading card of your… girlfriend, or whatever she is—but at least you'll get to treasure a memento of her forever.)<</if>> <<if $lavinettradingcard is true>> <br>You already have this card though, so you tuck it back into its packet. Then you decide to draw again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardresults2">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<else>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardresults2">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><<set $lavinettradingcard to true>><<set $tradingcardshave += 1>><</link>></center> <</if>> <<elseif $randomcard is 13 and $mimirjoin is true>> <center>You drew Rangers of Blest Trading Card #13: Mimir Esthin!</center> <<if $mimirtradingcard is true>> <br>You already have this card though, so you tuck it back into its packet. Then you decide to draw again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardresults2">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<else>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardresults2">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><<set $mimirtradingcard to true>><<set $tradingcardshave += 1>><</link>></center> <</if>> <<elseif $randomcard is 14 and ($prihinesafe is true or $bothsafe is true)>> <center>You drew Rangers of Blest Trading Card #27: Prihine Naveen!</center> <<if $prihineromance is true>><br>Seeing Prihine's face again gives you a pang of surprise, but you quickly squelch it before anyone can catch you staring.<</if>> <<if $prihinetradingcard is true>> <br>You already have this card though, so you tuck it back into its packet. Then you decide to draw again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardresults2">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<else>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardresults2">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><<set $prihinetradingcard to true>><<set $tradingcardshave += 1>><</link>></center> <</if>> <<elseif $randomcard is 15>> <center>You drew Rangers of Blest Trading Card #66: The Mysterious Watcher!</center> <<if $croelle >= 10>><br>Red hair, ochre eyes, and a black hat... why does the figure on this nondescript card seem so familiar?...<</if>> <<if $croelletradingcard is true>> <br><br>You already have this card though, so you tuck it back into its packet. Then you decide to draw again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardresults2">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<else>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardresults2">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><<set $croelletradingcard to true>><<set $tradingcardshave += 1>><</link>></center> <</if>> <<elseif $randomcard is 16>> <center>You drew Rangers of Blest Trading Card #88: The Town Clown!</center> <<if $chandrytradingcard is true>> <br>You already have this card though, so you tuck it back into its packet. Then you decide to draw again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardresults2">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<else>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardresults2">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><<set $chandrytradingcard to true>><<set $tradingcardshave += 1>><</link>></center> <</if>> <<elseif $randomcard is 17>> <center>You drew Rangers of Blest Trading Card #49: Vivek the Gargoyle!</center> <<if $vivektradingcard is true>> <br>You already have this card though, so you tuck it back into its packet. Then you decide to draw again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardresults2">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<else>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardresults2">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><<set $vivektradingcard to true>><<set $tradingcardshave += 1>><</link>></center> <</if>> <<elseif $randomcard is 18 and $gladiotorjoin is true>> <center>You drew Rangers of Blest Trading Card #91: Staghead!</center> <<if $stagheadtradingcard is true>> <br>You already have this card though, so you tuck it back into its packet. Then you decide to draw again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardresults2">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<else>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardresults2">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><<set $stagheadtradingcard to true>><<set $tradingcardshave += 1>><</link>></center> <</if>> <<elseif $randomcard is 18 and $part > 5>> You drew a filler card, depicting a wyvern that suspiciously resembles the one you fought in the arena. It's ultimately worthless, so you throw it away and reach into your foil packet to try again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardresults2">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<elseif $randomcard is 18>> You got a filler card, depicting a Drake or dragon in the sky. Totally worthless. You throw it away and reach into your packet to try again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardresults2">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<elseif $randomcard is 19 and $gladiotorjoin is true>> <center>You drew Rangers of Blest Trading Card #92: Mountain Jackal!</center> <<if $mountainjackaltradingcard is true>> <br>You already have this card though, so you tuck it back into its packet. Then you decide to draw again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardresults2">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<else>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardresults2">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><<set $mountainjackaltradingcard to true>><<set $tradingcardshave += 1>><</link>></center> <</if>> <<elseif $randomcard is 19>>You got a filler card, depicting some sort of goblin. Totally worthless. You throw it away and reach into your packet to try again… <br><br><center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardresults2">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<elseif $randomcard is 20 and $redjoin is true>> <center>You drew Rangers of Blest Trading Card #33: Panrachus Corannus!</center> <<if $pantradingcard is true>> <br>You already have this card though, so you tuck it back into its packet. Then you decide to draw again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardresults2">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<else>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardresults2">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><<set $pantradingcard to true>><<set $tradingcardshave += 1>><</link>></center> <</if>> <<elseif $randomcard is 21 and $redjoin is true>> <center>You drew Rangers of Blest Trading Card #34: Saleneon Perdonas!</center> <<if $neontradingcard is true>> <br>You already have this card though, so you tuck it back into its packet. Then you decide to draw again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardresults2">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<else>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardresults2">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><<set $neontradingcard to true>><<set $tradingcardshave += 1>><</link>></center> <</if>> <<elseif $randomcard is 22 and $rieljoin is true>> <center>You drew Rangers of Blest Trading Card #96: Aerin Nightwood!</center> <<if $aerintradingcard is true>> <br>You already have this card though, so you tuck it back into its packet. Then you decide to draw again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardresults2">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<else>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardresults2">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><<set $aerintradingcard to true>><<set $tradingcardshave += 1>><</link>></center> <</if>> <<elseif $randomcard is 23 and $chasejoin is true>> <center>You drew Rangers of Blest Trading Card #55: Ariella Caffrielle!</center> <<if $aritradingcard is true>> <br>You already have this card though, so you tuck it back into its packet. Then you decide to draw again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardresults2">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<else>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardresults2">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><<set $aritradingcard to true>><<set $tradingcardshave += 1>><</link>></center> <</if>> <<elseif $randomcard is 24 and $chasejoin is true>> <center>You drew Rangers of Blest Trading Card #47: Kato Ibbok!</center> <<if $katotradingcard is true>> <br>You already have this card though, so you tuck it back into its packet. Then you decide to draw again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardresults2">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<else>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardresults2">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><<set $katotradingcard to true>><<set $tradingcardshave += 1>><</link>></center> <</if>> <<elseif $randomcard >= 25 and $randomcard < 28>>You drew a filler card, depicting the Sun Court from afar. It's nice to look at, but ultimately worthless. Darn. <br><br> You reach into the packet to try again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardresults2">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<elseif $randomcard >= 28 and $randomcard < 33>>You drew a filler card, depicting some Elven ruins in a forest. It's nice to look at, but ultimately worthless. Darn. <br><br> You reach into the packet to try again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardresults2">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<elseif $randomcard >= 33 and $randomcard < 38>>You drew a filler card, depicting a Ket weapons rack. It's nice to look at, but ultimately worthless. Darn. <br><br> You reach into the packet to try again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardresults2">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<elseif $randomcard >= 38 and $randomcard < 43>>You drew a filler card, depicting the Mornhaven Gate. It's nice to look at, but ultimately worthless. Darn. <br><br> You reach into the packet to try again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardresults2">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<elseif $randomcard >= 43 and $randomcard < 48>>You drew a filler card, depicting some sort of princess gazing longingly out of a window in a high tower. Worthless. <br><br> You reach into the packet to try again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardresults2">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<else>>You got a filler card, depicting the Shepherds' compound in Ashtown. It's a nice picture of your home, but not that useful in the context of the game. Darn. <br><br> You reach into the packet to try again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardresults2">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <</if>>

<<if $randomcard is 1>> <center>You drew Rangers of Blest Trading Card #1: Blade Bronwyn!</center> <<if $bladeromance is true>><br>(Aw, it feels kind of funny to have a personal trading card of your… boyfriend, or whatever he is—but at least you'll get to treasure a memento of him forever.)<</if>> <<if $bladetradingcard is true>> <br>You already have this card though, so you tuck it back into its packet. Then you decide to draw again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardsresults3">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<else>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardsresults3">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><<set $bladetradingcard to true>><<set $tradingcardshave += 1>><</link>></center> <</if>> <<elseif $randomcard is 2>> <center>You drew Rangers of Blest Trading Card #2: Trouble Alder!</center> <<if $troubleromance is true>><br>(Aw, it feels kind of funny to have a personal trading card of your… boyfriend, or whatever he is—but at least you'll get to treasure a memento of him forever.)<</if>> <<if $troubletradingcard is true>> <br>You already have this card though, so you tuck it back into its packet. Then you decide to draw again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardsresults3">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<else>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardsresults3">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>> <<set $troubletradingcard to true>><<set $tradingcardshave += 1>><</link>></center> <</if>> <<elseif $randomcard is 3>> <center>You drew Rangers of Blest Trading Card #3: Tallys Ironwood!</center> <<if $tallysromance is true or $tallyssex is true>><br>(Aw, it feels kind of funny to have a personal trading card of your… girlfriend, or lover, or whatever she is—but at least you'll get to treasure a memento of her forever.)<</if>> <<if $tallystradingcard is true>> <br>You already have this card though, so you tuck it back into its packet. Then you decide to draw again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardsresults3">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<else>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardsresults3">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><<set $tallystradingcard to true>><<set $tradingcardshave += 1>><</link>></center> <</if>> <<elseif $randomcard is 4>> <center>You drew Rangers of Blest Trading Card #4: Shery Acquell!</center> <<if $sheryromance is true>><br>(Aw, it feels kind of funny to have a personal trading card of your… girlfriend, or whatever she is—but at least you'll get to treasure a memento of her forever.)<</if>> <<if $sherytradingcard is true>> <br>You already have this card though, so you tuck it back into its packet. Then you decide to draw again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardsresults3">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<else>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardsresults3">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>> <<set $sherytradingcard to true>><<set $tradingcardshave += 1>><</link>></center> <</if>> <<elseif $randomcard is 5>> <center>You drew Rangers of Blest Trading Card #5: $firstname $surname!</center> <br>Oh, this is <i>you</i>! You still can't believe you have your own trading card... <<if $mctradingcard is true>> <br><br>You already have this card though, so you tuck it back into its packet. Then you decide to draw again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardsresults3">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<else>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardsresults3">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><<set $mctradingcard to true>><<set $tradingcardshave += 1>><</link>></center> <</if>> <<elseif $randomcard is 6 and $rieljoin is true>> <center>You drew Rangers of Blest Trading Card #6: Riel Syndran!</center> <<if $rielromance is true>><br>(Aw, it feels kind of funny to have a personal trading card of your… boyfriend, or whatever he is—but at least you'll get to treasure a memento of him forever.)<</if>> <<if $rieltradingcard is true>> <br>You already have this card though, so you tuck it back into its packet. Then you decide to draw again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardsresults3">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<else>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardsresults3">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><<set $rieltradingcard to true>><<set $tradingcardshave += 1>><</link>></center> <</if>> <<elseif $randomcard is 7 and $chasejoin is true>> <center>You drew Rangers of Blest Trading Card #7: Chase Trinaeste!</center> <<if $chaseromance is true>><br>(Aw, it feels kind of funny to have a personal trading card of your… boyfriend, or lover, or whatever he is—but at least you'll get to treasure a memento of him forever.)<</if>> <<if $chasetradingcard is true>> <br><br>You already have this card though, so you tuck it back into its packet. Then you decide to draw again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardsresults3">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<else>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardsresults3">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>> <<set $chasetradingcard to true>><<set $tradingcardshave += 1>><</link>></center> <</if>> <<elseif $randomcard is 8 and $redjoin is true>> <center>You drew Rangers of Blest Trading Card #8: Red Antiqua!</center> <<if $redromance is true>><br>(Aw, it feels kind of funny to have a personal trading card of your… boyfriend, or whatever he is—but at least you'll get to treasure a memento of him forever.)<</if>> <<if $redtradingcard is true>> <br>You already have this card though, so you tuck it back into its packet. Then you decide to draw again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardsresults3">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<else>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardsresults3">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><<set $redtradingcard to true>><<set $tradingcardshave += 1>><</link>></center> <</if>> <<elseif $randomcard is 9 and $aylajoin is true>> <center>You drew Rangers of Blest Trading Card #9: Ayla Aescar!</center> <<if $aylaromance is true>><br>(Aw, it feels kind of funny to have a personal trading card of your… girlfriend, or whatever she is—but at least you'll get to treasure a memento of her forever.)<</if>> <<if $aylatradingcard is true>> <br>You already have this card though, so you tuck it back into its packet. Then you decide to draw again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardsresults3">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<else>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardsresults3">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><<set $aylatradingcard to true>><<set $tradingcardshave += 1>><</link>></center> <</if>> <<elseif $randomcard is 10 and $halekjoin is true>> <center>You drew Rangers of Blest Trading Card #10: Halek Prince!</center> <<if $halektradingcard is true>> <br>You already have this card though, so you tuck it back into its packet. Then you decide to draw again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardsresults3">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<else>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardsresults3">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><<set $halektradingcard to true>><<set $tradingcardshave += 1>><</link>></center> <</if>> <<elseif $randomcard is 11 and $brionyjoin is true>> <center>You drew Rangers of Blest Trading Card #11: Briony Stormbreaker!</center> <<if $brionyromance is true>><br>(Aw, it feels kind of funny to have a personal trading card of your… girlfriend, or whatever she is—but at least you'll get to treasure a memento of her forever.)<</if>> <<if $brionytradingcard is true>> <br>You already have this card though, so you tuck it back into its packet. Then you decide to draw again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardsresults3">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<else>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardsresults3">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><<set $brionytradingcard to true>><<set $tradingcardshave += 1>><</link>></center> <</if>> <<elseif $randomcard is 12 and $lavinetjoin is true>> <center>You drew Rangers of Blest Trading Card #12: Lavinet Naveen!</center> <<if $lavinetromance is true>><br>(Aw, it feels kind of funny to have a personal trading card of your… girlfriend, or whatever she is—but at least you'll get to treasure a memento of her forever.)<</if>> <<if $lavinettradingcard is true>> <br>You already have this card though, so you tuck it back into its packet. Then you decide to draw again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardsresults3">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<else>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardsresults3">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><<set $lavinettradingcard to true>><<set $tradingcardshave += 1>><</link>></center> <</if>> <<elseif $randomcard is 13 and $mimirjoin is true>> <center>You drew Rangers of Blest Trading Card #13: Mimir Esthin!</center> <<if $mimirtradingcard is true>> <br>You already have this card though, so you tuck it back into its packet. Then you decide to draw again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardsresults3">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<else>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardsresults3">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><<set $mimirtradingcard to true>><<set $tradingcardshave += 1>><</link>></center> <</if>> <<elseif $randomcard is 14 and ($prihinesafe is true or $bothsafe is true)>> <center>You drew Rangers of Blest Trading Card #27: Prihine Naveen!</center> <<if $prihineromance is true>><br>Seeing Prihine's face again gives you a pang of surprise, but you quickly squelch it before anyone can catch you staring.<</if>> <<if $prihinetradingcard is true>> <br>You already have this card though, so you tuck it back into its packet. Then you decide to draw again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardsresults3">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<else>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardsresults3">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><<set $prihinetradingcard to true>><<set $tradingcardshave += 1>><</link>></center> <</if>> <<elseif $randomcard is 15>> <center>You drew Rangers of Blest Trading Card #66: The Mysterious Watcher!</center> <<if $croelle >= 10>><br>Red hair, ochre eyes, and a black hat... why does the figure on this nondescript card seem so familiar?...<</if>> <<if $croelletradingcard is true>> <br><br>You already have this card though, so you tuck it back into its packet. Then you decide to draw again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardsresults3">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<else>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardsresults3">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><<set $croelletradingcard to true>><<set $tradingcardshave += 1>><</link>></center> <</if>> <<elseif $randomcard is 16>> <center>You drew Rangers of Blest Trading Card #88: The Town Clown!</center> <<if $chandrytradingcard is true>> <br>You already have this card though, so you tuck it back into its packet. Then you decide to draw again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardsresults3">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<else>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardsresults3">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><<set $chandrytradingcard to true>><<set $tradingcardshave += 1>><</link>></center> <</if>> <<elseif $randomcard is 17>> <center>You drew Rangers of Blest Trading Card #49: Vivek the Gargoyle!</center> <<if $vivektradingcard is true>> <br>You already have this card though, so you tuck it back into its packet. Then you decide to draw again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardsresults3">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<else>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardsresults3">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><<set $vivektradingcard to true>><<set $tradingcardshave += 1>><</link>></center> <</if>> <<elseif $randomcard is 18 and $gladiotorjoin is true>> <center>You drew Rangers of Blest Trading Card #91: Staghead!</center> <<if $stagheadtradingcard is true>> <br>You already have this card though, so you tuck it back into its packet. Then you decide to draw again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardsresults3">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<else>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardsresults3">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><<set $stagheadtradingcard to true>><<set $tradingcardshave += 1>><</link>></center> <</if>> <<elseif $randomcard is 18 and $part > 5>> You drew a filler card, depicting a wyvern that suspiciously resembles the one you fought in the arena. It's ultimately worthless, so you throw it away and reach into your foil packet to try again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardsresults3">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<elseif $randomcard is 18>> You got a filler card, depicting a Drake or dragon in the sky. Totally worthless. You throw it away and reach into your packet to try again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardsresults3">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<elseif $randomcard is 19 and $gladiotorjoin is true>> <center>You drew Rangers of Blest Trading Card #92: Mountain Jackal!</center> <<if $mountainjackaltradingcard is true>> <br>You already have this card though, so you tuck it back into its packet. Then you decide to draw again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardsresults3">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<else>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardsresults3">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><<set $mountainjackaltradingcard to true>><<set $tradingcardshave += 1>><</link>></center> <</if>> <<elseif $randomcard is 19>>You got a filler card, depicting some sort of goblin. Totally worthless. You throw it away and reach into your packet to try again… <br><br><center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardsresults3">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<elseif $randomcard is 20 and $redjoin is true>> <center>You drew Rangers of Blest Trading Card #33: Panrachus Corannus!</center> <<if $pantradingcard is true>> <br>You already have this card though, so you tuck it back into its packet. Then you decide to draw again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardsresults3">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<else>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardsresults3">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><<set $pantradingcard to true>><<set $tradingcardshave += 1>><</link>></center> <</if>> <<elseif $randomcard is 21 and $redjoin is true>> <center>You drew Rangers of Blest Trading Card #34: Saleneon Perdonas!</center> <<if $neontradingcard is true>> <br>You already have this card though, so you tuck it back into its packet. Then you decide to draw again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardsresults3">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<else>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardsresults3">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><<set $neontradingcard to true>><<set $tradingcardshave += 1>><</link>></center> <</if>> <<elseif $randomcard is 22 and $rieljoin is true>> <center>You drew Rangers of Blest Trading Card #96: Aerin Nightwood!</center> <<if $aerintradingcard is true>> <br>You already have this card though, so you tuck it back into its packet. Then you decide to draw again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardsresults3">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<else>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardsresults3">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><<set $aerintradingcard to true>><<set $tradingcardshave += 1>><</link>></center> <</if>> <<elseif $randomcard is 23 and $chasejoin is true>> <center>You drew Rangers of Blest Trading Card #55: Ariella Caffrielle!</center> <<if $aritradingcard is true>> <br>You already have this card though, so you tuck it back into its packet. Then you decide to draw again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardsresults3">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<else>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardsresults3">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><<set $aritradingcard to true>><<set $tradingcardshave += 1>><</link>></center> <</if>> <<elseif $randomcard is 24 and $chasejoin is true>> <center>You drew Rangers of Blest Trading Card #47: Kato Ibbok!</center> <<if $katotradingcard is true>> <br>You already have this card though, so you tuck it back into its packet. Then you decide to draw again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardsresults3">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<else>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardsresults3">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><<set $katotradingcard to true>><<set $tradingcardshave += 1>><</link>></center> <</if>> <<elseif $randomcard >= 25 and $randomcard < 28>>You drew a filler card, depicting the Sun Court from afar. It's nice to look at, but ultimately worthless. Darn. <br><br> You reach into the packet to try again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardsresults3">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<elseif $randomcard >= 28 and $randomcard < 33>>You drew a filler card, depicting some Elven ruins in a forest. It's nice to look at, but ultimately worthless. Darn. <br><br> You reach into the packet to try again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardsresults3">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<elseif $randomcard >= 33 and $randomcard < 38>>You drew a filler card, depicting a Ket weapons rack. It's nice to look at, but ultimately worthless. Darn. <br><br> You reach into the packet to try again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardsresults3">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<elseif $randomcard >= 38 and $randomcard < 43>>You drew a filler card, depicting the Mornhaven Gate. It's nice to look at, but ultimately worthless. Darn. <br><br> You reach into the packet to try again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardsresults3">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<elseif $randomcard >= 43 and $randomcard < 48>>You drew a filler card, depicting some sort of princess gazing longingly out of a window in a high tower. Worthless. <br><br> You reach into the packet to try again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardsresults3">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<else>>You got a filler card, depicting the Shepherds' compound in Ashtown. It's a nice picture of your home, but not that useful in the context of the game. Darn. <br><br> You reach into the packet to try again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "cardsresults3">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <</if>>

<<if $randomcard is 1>> <center>You drew Rangers of Blest Trading Card #1: Blade Bronwyn!</center> <<if $bladeromance is true>><br>(Aw, it feels kind of funny to have a personal trading card of your… boyfriend, or whatever he is—but at least you'll get to treasure a memento of him forever.)<</if>> <<if $bladetradingcard is true>> <br>You already have this card though, so you tuck it back into its packet. Then you decide to draw again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "openpackofcards">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<else>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "openpackofcards">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><<set $bladetradingcard to true>><<set $tradingcardshave += 1>><</link>></center> <</if>> <<elseif $randomcard is 2>> <center>You drew Rangers of Blest Trading Card #2: Trouble Alder!</center> <<if $troubleromance is true>><br>(Aw, it feels kind of funny to have a personal trading card of your… boyfriend, or whatever he is—but at least you'll get to treasure a memento of him forever.)<</if>> <<if $troubletradingcard is true>> <br>You already have this card though, so you tuck it back into its packet. Then you decide to draw again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "openpackofcards">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<else>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "openpackofcards">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>> <<set $troubletradingcard to true>><<set $tradingcardshave += 1>><</link>></center> <</if>> <<elseif $randomcard is 3>> <center>You drew Rangers of Blest Trading Card #3: Tallys Ironwood!</center> <<if $tallysromance is true or $tallyssex is true>><br>(Aw, it feels kind of funny to have a personal trading card of your… girlfriend, or lover, or whatever she is—but at least you'll get to treasure a memento of her forever.)<</if>> <<if $tallystradingcard is true>> <br>You already have this card though, so you tuck it back into its packet. Then you decide to draw again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "openpackofcards">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<else>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "openpackofcards">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><<set $tallystradingcard to true>><<set $tradingcardshave += 1>><</link>></center> <</if>> <<elseif $randomcard is 4>> <center>You drew Rangers of Blest Trading Card #4: Shery Acquell!</center> <<if $sheryromance is true>><br>(Aw, it feels kind of funny to have a personal trading card of your… girlfriend, or whatever she is—but at least you'll get to treasure a memento of her forever.)<</if>> <<if $sherytradingcard is true>> <br>You already have this card though, so you tuck it back into its packet. Then you decide to draw again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "openpackofcards">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<else>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "openpackofcards">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>> <<set $sherytradingcard to true>><<set $tradingcardshave += 1>><</link>></center> <</if>> <<elseif $randomcard is 5>> <center>You drew Rangers of Blest Trading Card #5: $firstname $surname!</center> <br>Oh, this is <i>you</i>! You still can't believe you have your own trading card... <<if $mctradingcard is true>> <br><br>You already have this card though, so you tuck it back into its packet. Then you decide to draw again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "openpackofcards">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<else>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "openpackofcards">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><<set $mctradingcard to true>><<set $tradingcardshave += 1>><</link>></center> <</if>> <<elseif $randomcard is 6 and $rieljoin is true>> <center>You drew Rangers of Blest Trading Card #6: Riel Syndran!</center> <<if $rielromance is true>><br>(Aw, it feels kind of funny to have a personal trading card of your… boyfriend, or whatever he is—but at least you'll get to treasure a memento of him forever.)<</if>> <<if $rieltradingcard is true>> <br>You already have this card though, so you tuck it back into its packet. Then you decide to draw again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "openpackofcards">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<else>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "openpackofcards">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><<set $rieltradingcard to true>><<set $tradingcardshave += 1>><</link>></center> <</if>> <<elseif $randomcard is 7 and $chasejoin is true>> <center>You drew Rangers of Blest Trading Card #7: Chase Trinaeste!</center> <<if $chaseromance is true>><br>(Aw, it feels kind of funny to have a personal trading card of your… boyfriend, or lover, or whatever he is—but at least you'll get to treasure a memento of him forever.)<</if>> <<if $chasetradingcard is true>> <br>You already have this card though, so you tuck it back into its packet. Then you decide to draw again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "openpackofcards">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<else>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "openpackofcards">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>> <<set $chasetradingcard to true>><<set $tradingcardshave += 1>><</link>></center> <</if>> <<elseif $randomcard is 8 and $redjoin is true>> <center>You drew Rangers of Blest Trading Card #8: Red Antiqua!</center> <<if $redromance is true>><br>(Aw, it feels kind of funny to have a personal trading card of your… boyfriend, or whatever he is—but at least you'll get to treasure a memento of him forever.)<</if>> <<if $redtradingcard is true>> <br>You already have this card though, so you tuck it back into its packet. Then you decide to draw again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "openpackofcards">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<else>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "openpackofcards">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><<set $redtradingcard to true>><<set $tradingcardshave += 1>><</link>></center> <</if>> <<elseif $randomcard is 9 and $aylajoin is true>> <center>You drew Rangers of Blest Trading Card #9: Ayla Aescar!</center> <<if $aylaromance is true>><br>(Aw, it feels kind of funny to have a personal trading card of your… girlfriend, or whatever she is—but at least you'll get to treasure a memento of her forever.)<</if>> <<if $aylatradingcard is true>> <br>You already have this card though, so you tuck it back into its packet. Then you decide to draw again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "openpackofcards">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<else>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "openpackofcards">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><<set $aylatradingcard to true>><<set $tradingcardshave += 1>><</link>></center> <</if>> <<elseif $randomcard is 10 and $halekjoin is true>> <center>You drew Rangers of Blest Trading Card #10: Halek Prince!</center> <<if $halektradingcard is true>> <br>You already have this card though, so you tuck it back into its packet. Then you decide to draw again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "openpackofcards">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<else>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "openpackofcards">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><<set $halektradingcard to true>><<set $tradingcardshave += 1>><</link>></center> <</if>> <<elseif $randomcard is 11 and $brionyjoin is true>> <center>You drew Rangers of Blest Trading Card #11: Briony Stormbreaker!</center> <<if $brionyromance is true>><br>(Aw, it feels kind of funny to have a personal trading card of your… girlfriend, or whatever she is—but at least you'll get to treasure a memento of her forever.)<</if>> <<if $brionytradingcard is true>> <br>You already have this card though, so you tuck it back into its packet. Then you decide to draw again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "openpackofcards">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<else>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "openpackofcards">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><<set $brionytradingcard to true>><<set $tradingcardshave += 1>><</link>></center> <</if>> <<elseif $randomcard is 12 and $lavinetjoin is true>> <center>You drew Rangers of Blest Trading Card #12: Lavinet Naveen!</center> <<if $lavinetromance is true>><br>(Aw, it feels kind of funny to have a personal trading card of your… girlfriend, or whatever she is—but at least you'll get to treasure a memento of her forever.)<</if>> <<if $lavinettradingcard is true>> <br>You already have this card though, so you tuck it back into its packet. Then you decide to draw again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "openpackofcards">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<else>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "openpackofcards">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><<set $lavinettradingcard to true>><<set $tradingcardshave += 1>><</link>></center> <</if>> <<elseif $randomcard is 13 and $mimirjoin is true>> <center>You drew Rangers of Blest Trading Card #13: Mimir Esthin!</center> <<if $mimirtradingcard is true>> <br>You already have this card though, so you tuck it back into its packet. Then you decide to draw again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "openpackofcards">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<else>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "openpackofcards">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><<set $mimirtradingcard to true>><<set $tradingcardshave += 1>><</link>></center> <</if>> <<elseif $randomcard is 14 and ($prihinesafe is true or $bothsafe is true)>> <center>You drew Rangers of Blest Trading Card #27: Prihine Naveen!</center> <<if $prihineromance is true>><br>Seeing Prihine's face again gives you a pang of surprise, but you quickly squelch it before anyone can catch you staring.<</if>> <<if $prihinetradingcard is true>> <br>You already have this card though, so you tuck it back into its packet. Then you decide to draw again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "openpackofcards">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<else>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "openpackofcards">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><<set $prihinetradingcard to true>><<set $tradingcardshave += 1>><</link>></center> <</if>> <<elseif $randomcard is 15>> <center>You drew Rangers of Blest Trading Card #66: The Mysterious Watcher!</center> <<if $croelle >= 10>><br>Red hair, ochre eyes, and a black hat... why does the figure on this nondescript card seem so familiar?...<</if>> <<if $croelletradingcard is true>> <br><br>You already have this card though, so you tuck it back into its packet. Then you decide to draw again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "openpackofcards">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<else>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "openpackofcards">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><<set $croelletradingcard to true>><<set $tradingcardshave += 1>><</link>></center> <</if>> <<elseif $randomcard is 16>> <center>You drew Rangers of Blest Trading Card #88: The Town Clown!</center> <<if $chandrytradingcard is true>> <br>You already have this card though, so you tuck it back into its packet. Then you decide to draw again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "openpackofcards">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<else>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "openpackofcards">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><<set $chandrytradingcard to true>><<set $tradingcardshave += 1>><</link>></center> <</if>> <<elseif $randomcard is 17>> <center>You drew Rangers of Blest Trading Card #49: Vivek the Gargoyle!</center> <<if $vivektradingcard is true>> <br>You already have this card though, so you tuck it back into its packet. Then you decide to draw again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "openpackofcards">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<else>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "openpackofcards">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><<set $vivektradingcard to true>><<set $tradingcardshave += 1>><</link>></center> <</if>> <<elseif $randomcard is 18 and $gladiotorjoin is true>> <center>You drew Rangers of Blest Trading Card #91: Staghead!</center> <<if $stagheadtradingcard is true>> <br>You already have this card though, so you tuck it back into its packet. Then you decide to draw again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "openpackofcards">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<else>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "openpackofcards">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><<set $stagheadtradingcard to true>><<set $tradingcardshave += 1>><</link>></center> <</if>> <<elseif $randomcard is 18 and $part > 5>> You drew a filler card, depicting a wyvern that suspiciously resembles the one you fought in the arena. It's ultimately worthless, so you throw it away and reach into your foil packet to try again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "openpackofcards">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<elseif $randomcard is 18>> You got a filler card, depicting a Drake or dragon in the sky. Totally worthless. You throw it away and reach into your packet to try again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "openpackofcards">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<elseif $randomcard is 19 and $gladiotorjoin is true>> <center>You drew Rangers of Blest Trading Card #92: Mountain Jackal!</center> <<if $mountainjackaltradingcard is true>> <br>You already have this card though, so you tuck it back into its packet. Then you decide to draw again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "openpackofcards">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<else>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "openpackofcards">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><<set $mountainjackaltradingcard to true>><<set $tradingcardshave += 1>><</link>></center> <</if>> <<elseif $randomcard is 19>>You got a filler card, depicting some sort of goblin. Totally worthless. You throw it away and reach into your packet to try again… <br><br><center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "openpackofcards">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<elseif $randomcard is 20 and $redjoin is true>> <center>You drew Rangers of Blest Trading Card #33: Panrachus Corannus!</center> <<if $pantradingcard is true>> <br>You already have this card though, so you tuck it back into its packet. Then you decide to draw again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "openpackofcards">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<else>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "openpackofcards">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><<set $pantradingcard to true>><<set $tradingcardshave += 1>><</link>></center> <</if>> <<elseif $randomcard is 21 and $redjoin is true>> <center>You drew Rangers of Blest Trading Card #34: Saleneon Perdonas!</center> <<if $neontradingcard is true>> <br>You already have this card though, so you tuck it back into its packet. Then you decide to draw again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "openpackofcards">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<else>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "openpackofcards">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><<set $neontradingcard to true>><<set $tradingcardshave += 1>><</link>></center> <</if>> <<elseif $randomcard is 22 and $rieljoin is true>> <center>You drew Rangers of Blest Trading Card #96: Aerin Nightwood!</center> <<if $aerintradingcard is true>> <br>You already have this card though, so you tuck it back into its packet. Then you decide to draw again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "openpackofcards">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<else>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "openpackofcards">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><<set $aerintradingcard to true>><<set $tradingcardshave += 1>><</link>></center> <</if>> <<elseif $randomcard is 23 and $chasejoin is true>> <center>You drew Rangers of Blest Trading Card #55: Ariella Caffrielle!</center> <<if $aritradingcard is true>> <br>You already have this card though, so you tuck it back into its packet. Then you decide to draw again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "openpackofcards">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<else>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "openpackofcards">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><<set $aritradingcard to true>><<set $tradingcardshave += 1>><</link>></center> <</if>> <<elseif $randomcard is 24 and $chasejoin is true>> <center>You drew Rangers of Blest Trading Card #47: Kato Ibbok!</center> <<if $katotradingcard is true>> <br>You already have this card though, so you tuck it back into its packet. Then you decide to draw again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "openpackofcards">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<else>> <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "openpackofcards">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><<set $katotradingcard to true>><<set $tradingcardshave += 1>><</link>></center> <</if>> <<elseif $randomcard >= 25 and $randomcard < 28>>You drew a filler card, depicting the Sun Court from afar. It's nice to look at, but ultimately worthless. Darn. <br><br> You reach into the packet to try again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "openpackofcards">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<elseif $randomcard >= 28 and $randomcard < 33>>You drew a filler card, depicting some Elven ruins in a forest. It's nice to look at, but ultimately worthless. Darn. <br><br> You reach into the packet to try again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "openpackofcards">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<elseif $randomcard >= 33 and $randomcard < 38>>You drew a filler card, depicting a Ket weapons rack. It's nice to look at, but ultimately worthless. Darn. <br><br> You reach into the packet to try again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "openpackofcards">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<elseif $randomcard >= 38 and $randomcard < 43>>You drew a filler card, depicting the Mornhaven Gate. It's nice to look at, but ultimately worthless. Darn. <br><br> You reach into the packet to try again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "openpackofcards">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<elseif $randomcard >= 43 and $randomcard < 48>>You drew a filler card, depicting some sort of princess gazing longingly out of a window in a high tower. Worthless. <br><br> You reach into the packet to try again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "openpackofcards">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <<else>>You got a filler card, depicting the Shepherds' compound in Ashtown. It's a nice picture of your home, but not that useful in the context of the game. Darn. <br><br> You reach into the packet to try again… <br><br> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>Next</span></div></div>' "openpackofcards">><<set $randomcard to random(1,50)>><</link>></center> <</if>>

<<ribbon_banner "⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️" "" "">> <center>A deadly assassin turned knightly crusader! Despite his icy exterior, he uses his elite skills to protect others!</center> <br> <div class="tradingcardstableborder"> <table> <tr> <th><b>Health</b></th> <th><b>Affinities</b></th> <th><b>Base Attacks</b></th> <th><b>Special Ability</b></th> <th><b>All-Out Attack</b></th> </tr> <tr> <td>100</td> <td>Metal, Lightning, Dark</td> <td>Quicksilver Cut, Vorpal Slice, Arma Rupture, Lightning Blade, Assassin's Step</td> <td>The Way of the Ket</td> <td>The Shadowed Path</td> </tr> </table> </div> <br> <div class="tcfooter">Rangers of Blest Card #1</div>

<<ribbon_banner "⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️" "" "">> <center>An amazing sharpshooter from the slums of Ashtown! Able to outdraw and outshoot any enemy, he uses his strength to defend the innocent!</center> <br> <div class="tradingcardstableborder"> <table> <tr> <th><b>Health</b></th> <th><b>Affinities</b></th> <th><b>Base Attacks</b></th> <th><b>Special Ability</b></th> <th><b>All-Out Attack</b></th> </tr> <tr> <td>90</td> <td>Metal, Fire</td> <td>Hawkeye, Explosive Blast, Fisticuffs, Reckless Charge, Duelist's Stance</td> <td>Double Shot</td> <td>Bullet Storm</td> </tr> </table> </div> <br> <div class="tcfooter">Rangers of Blest Card #2</div>

<<ribbon_banner "⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️" "" "">> <center>An incredible archer wise in the ways of the Elves! She wields a bow made of ancient suntree wood and can pierce a falling leaf at a thousand paces!</center> <br> <div class="tradingcardstableborder"> <table> <tr> <th><b>Health</b></th> <th><b>Affinities</b></th> <th><b>Base Attacks</b></th> <th><b>Special Ability</b></th> <th><b>All-Out Attack</b></th> </tr> <tr> <td>80</td> <td>Earth, Wood, Water</td> <td>Elf Eye, Revenge of the Forest, Flaming Arrow, Arcing Volley, Cutting Leaf</td> <td>Keeper's Focus</td> <td>Flying Root</td> </tr> </table> </div> <br> <div class="tcfooter">Rangers of Blest Card #3</div>

<<ribbon_banner "⭐️⭐️" "" "">> <center>Although this quartermaster only has the fighting strength of a civilian, she has the ability to protect and boost other Shepherd cards like no other! Not much is known about this bespectacled saint, but her kindness and charm are known to all, and many draw strength from the warmth of her care.</center> <br> <div class="tradingcardstableborder"> <table> <tr> <th><b>Health</b></th> <th><b>Affinities</b></th> <th><b>Base Attacks</b></th> <th><b>Special Ability</b></th> <th><b>All-Out Attack</b></th> </tr> <tr> <td>20</td> <td>Air, Holy</td> <td>Treasure Draw, Resource Management, Supply Chain, Analyze, Baked Goods</td> <td>Vault Explorer</td> <td>Devout Prayer</td> </tr> </table> </div> <br> <div class="tcfooter">Rangers of Blest Card #4</div>

<<if (($reputation >= 65 and $facelesslordsdead == 5)) or (($magic >= 80 and $strength >= 75))>> <<ribbon_banner "⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️" "" "">> <<else>> <<ribbon_banner "⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️" "" "">> <</if>> <center>A mysterious newcomer named $firstname $surname has arrived, effortlessly becoming the Hero of Haven as well as one of the strongest Rangers in the world! This bright-eyed stranger uses <<if $mainweapon is "sword">> <<if $legendarysword>>a legendary sword named Clarion, <<else>>a sword, <</if>><</if>> <<if $mainweapon is "gun">> <<if $legendarygun>>a never-before-seen explosive weapon, <<else>>a gun, <</if>><</if>> <<if $mainweapon is "dagger">> <<if $legendarydagger>>a pair of legendary daggers named Whisper and Requiem, <<else>>a dagger, <</if>><</if>> <<if $mainweapon is "bow">> <<if $legendarybow>>a legendary bow named the Warpwood Striker, <<else>>a bow,<</if>><</if>> blinding magical power, and justice to prevail over all! </center> <br> <div class="tradingcardstableborder"> <table> <tr> <th><b>Health</b></th> <th><b>Affinities</b></th> <th><b>Base Attacks</b></th> <th><b>Special Ability</b></th> <th><b>All-Out Attack</b></th> </tr> <tr> <td>100</td> <td>Holy</td> <td><<if $specialization is "battle">> Deathcaller, Force Burst, Comet Strike, Thunder Punch, <<elseif $specialization is "healer">> Circle of Protection, Cleanse of Corruption, Heroic Bolster, Healing Touch, <<elseif $specialization is "enchanter">> Paralyze, Enthrall, Mind-Break, Induce Madness, <<elseif $specialization is "elementalist">> Flamethrower, Stone Armor, Cutting Wind, Stormbringer, <<elseif $specialization is "shifter">> Sign of the Wolf, Sign of the Leopard, Golem Bones, Vapor Heart, <<elseif $specialization is "binder">> Walking Bomb, Elemental Weapons, Rune Trap, Chains of Aether, <<elseif $specialization is "diviner">> Foresight, Divine Clarity, Shield of the Moon, Seer's Gambit, <<elseif $specialization is "wild">> Sparrow Sight, Army of Beasts, Quick Claw, Wildheart, <<elseif $specialization is "conjurer">> Timewinder, Pathfinder, Phase Shift, Spirit Call, <</if>> Twilight Strike</td> <td>Divine Shout</td> <td>Lightbringer</td> </tr> </table> </div> <br> <div class="tcfooter">Rangers of Blest Card #5</div>

<<ribbon_banner "⭐️⭐️" "" "">> <center>This merchant leader might not look very strong, but he lends this card analysis and calculation skills beyond measure, picking apart the defenses of other cards while adding wealth and Treasure cards to his party! Master Syndran is said to be a certified genius, able to play twelve steps ahead of his opponents at all times! Don't underestimate him!</center> <br> <div class="tradingcardstableborder"> <table> <tr> <th><b>Health</b></th> <th><b>Affinities</b></th> <th><b>Base Attacks</b></th> <th><b>Special Ability</b></th> <th><b>All-Out Attack</b></th> </tr> <tr> <td>20</td> <td>Ice, Air</td> <td>Sudden Wealth, Crippling Debt, Supply Chain, Mind Fracture, Analyze</td> <td>Tactician's Gambit</td> <td>Eidolon</td> </tr> </table> </div> <br> <div class="tcfooter">Rangers of Blest Card #6</div>

<<ribbon_banner "⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️" "" "">> <center>He is the Crooked King, the Prince of Thieves, the Saint of the Streets, the Thief-Lord of Haven! And yet he uses his wily nature to serve justice and truth!</center> <br> <div class="tradingcardstableborder"> <table> <tr> <th><b>Health</b></th> <th><b>Affinities</b></th> <th><b>Base Attacks</b></th> <th><b>Special Ability</b></th> <th><b>All-Out Attack</b></th> </tr> <tr> <td>90</td> <td>Dark</td> <td>Viper Fangs, Acrobatics, Devil's Whirlwind, Poison Strike, Smoke Bomb</td> <td>Pickpocket</td> <td>Death by a Thousand Cuts</td> </tr> </table> </div> <br> <div class="tcfooter">Rangers of Blest Card #7</div>

<<ribbon_banner "⭐️⭐️⭐️" "" "">> <center>A powerful Mage who can zip across the Continent in the blink of an eye! They call him the Red Flash, the Voyager, the Terror of Time and Space! He wields his deadly warhammer to tear down those who oppose him!</center> <br> <div class="tradingcardstableborder"> <table> <tr> <th><b>Health</b></th> <th><b>Affinities</b></th> <th><b>Base Attacks</b></th> <th><b>Special Ability</b></th> <th><b>All-Out Attack</b></th> </tr> <tr> <td>70</td> <td>Fire, Air</td> <td>Flamehammer, Flashstep, Fade Armor, Brutal Swing, Dimensional Swap</td> <td>Spiritwalker</td> <td>Arcane Smash</td> </tr> </table> </div> <br> <div class="tcfooter">Rangers of Blest Card #8</div>

<<ribbon_banner "⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️" "" "">> <center>She is a wandering nomad who has learned the ancient secrets of the land! She wields the wind as if it were her very breath, and her shouts of fury bring storms upon her enemies! Her defensive and offensive capabilities are next to none!</center> <br> <div class="tradingcardstableborder"> <table> <tr> <th><b>Health</b></th> <th><b>Affinities</b></th> <th><b>Base Attacks</b></th> <th><b>Special Ability</b></th> <th><b>All-Out Attack</b></th> </tr> <tr> <td>90</td> <td>Air, Wood</td> <td>Aerial Shield, Desert Gale, Sticks and Stones, Suffocating Vacuum, Air Cannon</td> <td>The Fury of Jalis</td> <td>Raging Whirlwind</td> </tr> </table> </div> <br> <div class="tcfooter">Rangers of Blest Card #9</div>

<<ribbon_banner "⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️" "" "">> <center>He is the prince of his people and the savior of his kind! He uses his exorcist powers to purge the world of darkness! This card is twice as effective against Dark cards!</center> <br> <div class="tradingcardstableborder"> <table> <tr> <th><b>Health</b></th> <th><b>Affinities</b></th> <th><b>Base Attacks</b></th> <th><b>Special Ability</b></th> <th><b>All-Out Attack</b></th> </tr> <tr> <td>90</td> <td>Holy, Ice</td> <td>Arm of God, Ritual of the Reach, Champion's Spear, Cleansing Light, Hunter's Lock</td> <td>Messiah</td> <td>Exorcist's Judgment</td> </tr> </table> </div> <br> <div class="tcfooter">Rangers of Blest Card #10</div> /* https://www.shepherdsofhaven.com/tagged/super+smash+bros */

<<ribbon_banner "⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️" "" "">> <center>A superpowered gladiator with no memory, she uses her incredible power and strength to help those in need! She is a one-woman army, able to lift a horse with a single hand! Her pure white blade bears no stain from the blood of her enemies!</center> <br> <div class="tradingcardstableborder"> <table> <tr> <th><b>Health</b></th> <th><b>Affinities</b></th> <th><b>Base Attacks</b></th> <th><b>Special Ability</b></th> <th><b>All-Out Attack</b></th> </tr> <tr> <td>100</td> <td>Fire, Lightning</td> <td>Star Fall, Lightning Fist, Rift Punch, Hero's Shield, Radiant Sword</td> <td>Gonturan's Favor</td> <td>Meteor Storm</td> </tr> </table> </div> <br> <div class="tcfooter">Rangers of Blest Card #11</div>

<<ribbon_banner "⭐️⭐️⭐️" "" "">> <center>Her noble birth has given her legendary beauty and a spine of steel! While she could live in wealth and luxury, she chooses to dirty her hands and fight for the people! Her legacy as a warrior will live on! </center> <br> <div class="tradingcardstableborder"> <table> <tr> <th><b>Health</b></th> <th><b>Affinities</b></th> <th><b>Base Attacks</b></th> <th><b>Special Ability</b></th> <th><b>All-Out Attack</b></th> </tr> <tr> <td>60</td> <td>Earth, Ice, Metal</td> <td>Battle Dance, Aristocrat's Charm, Piercing Lance, Cavalry Charge, Riposte</td> <td>Chevalier</td> <td>Thorns and Roses</td> </tr> </table> </div> <br> <div class="tcfooter">Rangers of Blest Card #12</div>

<<ribbon_banner "⭐️" "" "">> <div class="tcfooter">Rangers of Blest Card #13</div>

<<ribbon_banner "⭐️" "" "">> <div class="tcfooter">Rangers of Blest Card #27</div>

<<ribbon_banner "⭐️⭐️⭐️" "" "">> <div class="tcfooter">Rangers of Blest Card #66</div>

<<ribbon_banner "⭐️⭐️" "" "">> <div class="tcfooter">Rangers of Blest Card #88</div>

<<ribbon_banner "⭐️" "" "">> <div class="tcfooter">Rangers of Blest Card #49</div>

<<ribbon_banner "⭐️⭐️⭐️" "" "">> <div class="tcfooter">Rangers of Blest Card #91</div>

<<ribbon_banner "⭐️⭐️⭐️" "" "">> <div class="tcfooter">Rangers of Blest Card #92</div>

<<ribbon_banner "⭐️⭐️⭐️" "" "">> <div class="tcfooter">Rangers of Blest Card #33</div>

<<ribbon_banner "⭐️⭐️" "" "">> <div class="tcfooter">Rangers of Blest Card #34</div>

<<ribbon_banner "⭐️" "" "">> <div class="tcfooter">Rangers of Blest Card #96</div>

<<ribbon_banner "⭐️⭐️⭐️" "" "">> <div class="tcfooter">Rangers of Blest Card #55</div>

<<ribbon_banner "⭐️⭐️⭐️" "" "">> <div class="tcfooter">Rangers of Blest Card #47</div>

/* <<script>> if (localStorage.getItem('restarted') === 'true') { localStorage.removeItem('restarted'); Engine.play('titlescreen2'); } <</script>> */ <div style="text-align: center; text-indent: inherit;"><div class="loading-icon"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/logos/loadscreen_logo.gif" width="40%"></div> <br> <span class="my-loading"><span id="loading"><<type 60ms keep>>{ Loading... }<</type>></span></span><br><br> <<timed 3s t8n>><<replace "#loading">><<fadein 1s>><<link '{ Click to start }' 'titlescreen2'>><</link>><</fadein>><</replace>><</timed>> <span class="next">[[Next|titlescreen2]]</span>

<<fadein 3s>> <<fadeout 5s 3s>><div class="logo"><img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/logos/studiologo.png" alt="Manifold Studios" width="300%"></div><</fadeout>> <</fadein>> <<timed 8s>><<goto "titlescreen3">><</timed>><span class="next">[[Next|titlescreen3]]</span>

<<nobr>> <<if settings.music is true>><<playlist "menusongs" loop play>><</if>> <div class="logo-holder"><img class="menu-logo" src="assets/images/ui/game_art/logos/menu_logo.png"></div> /* <div class="menulogo"></div> */ <div class="menu-holder"> <div class="menuleft"> <<link 'New Game'>><<dialog 'Difficulty Settings'>><<include "difficultysettings">><</dialog>><</link>> <<link 'Load Game'>><<run UI.saves();>><<playlist "menusongs" fadeout>><</link>> <<if $dlc is true>> <<link 'Bonus Content' 'dlc'>><</link>> <<else>> <<link 'Bonus Content'>><<dialog 'Downloadable Content'>><<include "downloadablecontentnotyet">><</dialog>><</link>> <</if>> </div> <div class="menuright"> <<link 'Settings'>><<run UI.settings();>><</link>> <<link 'About'>><<dialog 'Information'>><<include "aboutthegame">><</dialog>><</link>> <<link 'Credits'>><<dialog 'Credits'>><<include "Credits">><</dialog>><</link>> </div> </div> <div class="game-version">v0.2.1.0</div> <</nobr>> /* :: titlescreen [noheader transitionblack] <<timed 1s>><<goto 'titlescreen2'>><</timed>> <span class="next">[[Next|titlescreen2]]</span> (change current titlescreen to :: titlescreen2 and add in a [fade] tag?) */

<span class="heading">Summary</span> Two hundred years ago, Norm armies from the West marched on the rest of the Continent, bearing the banner of the <b>Autarchy</b>. The Autarchy rejected a world ruled by the old gods, spurning a way of life governed by the forces of magic and the other fey gifts the invaders had been denied at birth. Led by their holy leader, the Autarch, they put the old world to the torch and declared the beginning of a new era, one governed instead by gunpowder, science, and industry. Two hundred years later, magic has been outlawed for centuries, and your people, the <b>Diminished</b>, are oppressed and reviled by the Autarchy, monitored and hunted down by its ruthless Inquisitors. At best, you and your kind have become little more than a fairytale; at worst, you are the state's greatest threat. But after years of persecution, you are suddenly offered an opportunity to use your powers for good. <b>Demons</b> are mysteriously returning to the world after a thousand years of exile, and the world needs fighters like you to protect the population from their invasion. Guns and bullets do no good against monsters pulled from primeval nightmares; only your people and your mythical powers have the ability to fight fire with fire. So you join the <b>Shepherds</b>: a paramilitary order comprised of the very people the world once feared more than the demons themselves. As a Shepherd, you'll solve magical crimes, slay demons to protect the citizens of Haven, and build your reputation throughout the Autarchy's capital. Explore the world of Blest, recruit allies and factions to join the Shepherds' cause, find romance and companionship, investigate mysteries, lead rebellions and exorcisms, and uncover answers to the crises plaguing the world. Where are the demons coming from? Where have the gods or God gone, if they ever existed? Who are you, really? And will you be the world's true savior… or will you be its ultimate downfall? ---- <span class="heading">About</span> <i>Shepherds of Haven</i> is an interactive fiction game based on a series of unreleased fantasy novels written by Lena Nguyen. The earliest interactive demo of the first chapter was published in January 2018, and the game has been independently developed by Lena with the help of her supporters ever since. The game currently stands at over 1,250,000 words and features additional art and music from various artists. /* <b>General Features:</b><span class="fancylist"> * Fully-customizable protagonist: choose your character's name, nicknames, gender, sexuality, physical appearance, weapon choice, magical specialization, education, racial heritage, and much more. * Play as male, female, or non-binary; straight, gay, bisexual, or pansexual; and aromantic, asexual, aro-ace, or allo. * Thousands of choices and role-playing variations: build your character's personality and worldview from the ground up, test your loyalties and morals in every chapter, and make meaningful decisions that will change the story and world of the game in immense or subtle ways. * 10 romance options (5 male, 5 female) and 2 one-night stands/flings. * 15 characters (including romance options) to recruit and befriend. * Fulfilling friendship <i>and</i> romance routes, and a multitude of vastly-different endings for each character, the player-character, and the story at large. * An ever-changing codex, character guide, journal, and glossary that grows and adjusts as you play. * A hubworld-style exploration system between chapters: interact with the city of Haven and explore the world of Blest, meet new characters, take quests or side jobs, train your skills, shop, pray, read, or spend time with or date companions between story missions. * Dozens of mechanical secrets to reward your playthrough: achievements, a new game+ system, unlockable art, and a planned “stupid mode” and future DLC. * Much more! */ ---- <span class="heading">Ratings</span> This game contains content typical of the dark fantasy genre as well as of fantasy police procedurals. Investigations of murder, kidnapping, and demonic possession are common storylines, as are descriptions of death, loss, and fantasy violence. While optional romance content exists in the game, please keep in mind that some characters have locked sexualities and can only be romanced by protagonists of specific genders. For more detailed content warnings, click the following link. <b><<link "Content Warnings [+]">><<toggleclass "#contentwarnings" "hide">><</link>></b><div id="contentwarnings" class="hide"><span class="fancylist"><ul><li><b>Alcohol:</b> There are casual mentions of alcohol consumption throughout the game. Players can choose to play as a character who does not drink, but other characters and Shepherds will in a social context.</li> <li><b>Animal sacrifice:</b> The dominant religion in this game implies or references non-graphic animal sacrifice as offerings to a patron god, usually of chickens and geese. </li> <li><b>Blood:</b> There are brief descriptions of blood, injuries, or gore.</li> <li><b>Death:</b> As a dark fantasy narrative and police procedural, this game employs multiple descriptions of death, as well as forensic investigations of deaths and murders.</li> <li><b>Discrimination:</b> There are multiple instances of fantasy discrimination, including that based on fantasy race (example: an Elf is called "knife-ears" in a derogatory manner); gender (a sexist character states that women can't fight); or sexuality (a gay character chooses to be closeted for some time in order to leverage his business prospects). There are also descriptions of widespread religion and religion-based government oppressing certain groups.</li> <li><b>Disease:</b> One chapter involves heavy discussions of a fantasy plague, as well as a need for quarantine.</li> <li><b>Drugs:</b> One chapter contains heavy references to drug use and addiction in an investigative context.</li> <li><b>Forced marriage:</b> A few non-player characters are betrothed in arranged marriages for political or economic reasons. While most of these marriage arrangements are usually treated with personal reluctance and dislike, they are also common for the culture and social climate of this fantasy world and are referenced frequently. </li> <li><b>Gambling:</b> There are brief, casual depictions of gambling, and the player can play gambling-style minigames.</li> <li><b>Horror:</b> Mild-to-moderate horror situations are present, as well as vivid descriptions of nightmares. There are also descriptions of demonic possession; exorcisms; serial killers; grotesque creatures such as parasitic eels and leeches; and ritualistic cults.</li> <li><b>Kidnapping:</b> In the course of the player-character's police and investigative work, there are descriptions of abductions (including of children) and forced captivity. </li> <li><b>Nudity:</b> There may be brief references to non-explicit nudity, including other characters casually stripping off their clothes or going shirtless in a social context, as well as optional descriptions of nudity in sexual situations.</li> <li><b>Profanity:</b> This game contains prolific adult language, swearing, and fantasy profanity.</li> <li><b>Sex:</b> There are some suggestive or sexual situations; frequent casual innuendo or adult references; and most romances can result in optional, fade-to-black 'candlelight' sex with heavily suggestive implications.</li> <li><b>Smoking:</b> This world's fantasy version of smoking is depicted as non-addictive and non-harmful to one's health, using cigarettes or pipes that do not contain tobacco. The player-character can choose to smoke or not, but other characters will on a casual or regular basis. </li> <li><b>Torture:</b> Implied mentions of non-graphic torture.</li> <li><b>Trauma:</b> There are optional, implied descriptions of the player-character's trauma or grief, as well as that of other characters. </li> <li><b>Violence:</b> There are multiple, sometimes detailed descriptions of fantasy violence, including battlefield violence, warfare, or combat. </li> </ul></span></div>

Sorry, downloadable content has not yet been made available for <i>Shepherds of Haven</i>. Be sure to check back later, or follow the <a href="shepherdsofhaven.com">Shepherds of Haven development blog</a> for updates.

<center><span class="small">Please choose a difficulty setting. This cannot be changed later on. </span></center> <center><span class="heading">Standard</span> Recommended for most players. The default intended experience as originally designed and balanced. <<button 'Standard Mode'>><<set $easymode to false>><<run Dialog.close()>><<goto 'titlescreentransition'>><<playlist "menusongs" fadeout>><</button>></center> <center><span class="heading">Recruit</span> A more forgiving start. Makes the beginning of the game a little easier, providing a small initial boost to character stats, the ability to train in magic or physique twice per day off, and a starting discount for gifts in Chandry's shop. <<button 'Recruit Mode'>><<set $charisma to 5, $courage to 5, $intelligence to 5, $cunning to 5, $chandry to 1, $easymode to true>><<run Dialog.close()>><<goto 'titlescreentransition'>><<playlist "menusongs" fadeout>><</button>></center>

<<nobr>> /* inventory_holder usage: - it will print a typical inventory holder - $args[0] is an object of inventory tabs & data links, see format at the bottom of this comment - $args[1] is an extra class you can assign to inventory-holder, for additional styling (i.e. shop-holder) - call this widget as: <<inventory_holder $inventoryTabsData $extraClass>> $you'd define navigation links where calling it, as such (i.e. check inventory.twee): <<set $inventoryTabsData to { weapons: { tabKey: "weapons", tabName: "Weapons", items: [ {name: "name", desc: "desc", hasIcon: 'head'}, /* will print icon */ /* {name: "name", desc: "desc", hasIcon: false, iconText: "5 gold"} /* will print gold cost instead of icon*/ /* {hideItem: "anyTweeConditionHere", name: "name", desc: "desc", hasIcon: false, iconText: "5 gold"} /* if an item has hideItem var and it's set to true then that item wont' be shown */ /* ], }, armor: { tabKey: "armor", tabName: "Armor", items: [], },.... >> NOTES if using inventory_holder for shop, there's some additional params to provide: - Shop tabs are basically reusing inventory tabs, with a few differences: - hideItem is opposite condition from inventory -> i.e. if "$basicsword is true", then hide item, as you already have it <- I assume that's how it'd work in game anyway? - itemTag is basically tag of item <- needed so we can find any items in inventory on buy and update/remove them I suggest itemTag to be the same string as for i.e. variable name in twee for that item i.e.: if twee var is $basicsword then itemTag: "basicsword" * (also, the var name in setVariablesWhenBoughtTo array, would be set as varName: "basicsword" ^^^it's slightly redundant, but it makes it so much easier & less bug-prone when finding the item in DOM and updating/removing it - isConsumable <- set isConsumable: true, if you want the item to be purchesable multiple times (i.e. health potion) - setVariablesWhenBoughtTo has to be provided, so that the shop will now which variables to set when user buys it, make sure to also provide: varType: "string" / "int" / "boolean" setValue: -> examples: "some string to set" / 34 / true it should even work with using twee vars here: $someTweeString / $someTweeInt / $someTweeConditionIsTrue if it's an int variant, also set addAmount: 1 (or more), as this way we can ensure functionality to add more than 1 item every time some examples: setVariablesWhenBoughtTo: [{varName: "basicsword", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}] // i.e. a more compelx case of setting health potion, which has to set multiple twee vars setVariablesWhenBoughtTo: [{varName: "healthpotion", varType: "boolean", setValue: true}, {varName: "healthpotionnumber", varType: "int", setValue: $healthpotionnumber, addAmount: 1}] I.e. an item entry would look like this: {hideItem: $basicsword is true, setVariablesWhenBoughtTo: "basicsword", name: "BASIC IRON SWORD", desc: "A STANDARD MERCENARY'S SWORD. ITS METAL IS DULL BUT DURABLE.", hasIcon: false, goldCost: 5, extraDesc: "Extra desc said by shopkeeper when buying. Can be dynamically defined here with twee vars"}, */ <<widget "inventory_holder">> <<set $tabKeys to Object.keys($args[0])>> <div @class="$args[1] + ' inventory-holder'"> /* has to be done in this weird way for the variable to be evaluated within the class param*/ <div class="column-holder"> <div class="flex-column col-1 inventory-info column-holder vertical-flex-column"> <div class="image-holder flex-column col-2"> <<if tags().includes('wardrobe')>> /* <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/room/wardrobe.png" size="200%"> */ <<else>> <img class="fill-height" src="assets/images/ui/game_art/inventory/gold_bag_dark.png"> <</if>> </div> <div class="below-image-desc flex-column col-1 column-holder vertical-flex-column flex-justify-between"> <div> <<if $rank != "Commander">>GOLD: <span class="player-gold">$gold</span> DEUCALIONS <<else>>PERSONAL GOLD: <span class="player-gold">$gold</span> DEUCALIONS <br> SHEPHERD FUNDS: $shepherdgold DEUCALIONS <</if>> </div> <<if ($args[1].indexOf('shop_holder') > -1) and ($part is 4)>> <div class="btn-boxy" data-action-type="go_to_passage" data-type="youre4donehere">EXIT SHOP</div> <<elseif ($args[1].indexOf('shop_holder') > -1)>> <div class="btn-boxy" data-action-type="go_to_passage" data-type="dayoff">EXIT SHOP</div> <</if>> </div> </div> <div class="flex-column col-2 inventory-list"> <div class="tabs-holder"> <div class="tabs column-holder flex-justify-center"> <<for _i to 0; _i lt $tabKeys.length; _i++>> <<set $tabData to $args[0][$tabKeys[_i]]>> <<if _i == 0 >> /* make first one active by default */ <div class="tab flex-column active" @data-type="$tabData.tabKey" data-action-type="tab_switch">$tabData.tabName</div> <<else>> <div class="tab flex-column" @data-type="$tabData.tabKey" data-action-type="tab_switch">$tabData.tabName</div> <</if>> <</for>> </div> <<for _i to 0; _i lt $tabKeys.length; _i++>> <<set $tabData to $args[0][$tabKeys[_i]]>> <<set $activeClass to (_i == 0 ? ' active' : '')>> <div @class="'tab-data ' + $activeClass" @data-type="$tabData.tabKey"> <div class="scroll-viewport"> <div class="scroll-holder"> <<for _j to 0; _j lt $tabData.items.length; _j++>> <<if $tabData.items[_j].hideItem >> <<continue>> /* The item is not available/hideItem flag is set for it, don't display it */ <</if>> /* setVariablesWhenBoughtTo is an array with objects, so we have to convert it to string here to set it into a data attribute, and we'll then parse it back when used on user action */ <div class="inventory-item column-holder" @data-item-tag="$tabData.items[_j].itemTag" @data-set-vars-on-buy="JSON.stringify($tabData.items[_j].setVariablesWhenBoughtTo)" @data-is-consumable="$tabData.items[_j].isConsumable" @data-on-buy-message="$tabData.items[_j].onBuyMessage"> <div class="flex-column item-info col-5"> <div class="item-name">$tabData.items[_j].name</div> <div class="item-description">$tabData.items[_j].desc</div> </div> <div class="flex-column item-image flex-center-middle col-1 min-w-100 flex-justify-end"> <<if $tabData.items[_j].hasIcon == false>> <<if $tabData.items[_j].goldCost>> <<set $finalPrice to parseInt($tabData.items[_j].goldCost * (1 - $tabData.items[_j].discountRate))>> <<set $extraBtnClass to ($gold < $finalPrice ? ' disabled' : '');>> <div @class="'btn-boxy btn-buy ' + $extraBtnClass" data-action-type="attempt_buy_shop_item" @data-item-cost="$tabData.items[_j].goldCost" @data-item-cost-discounted="$finalPrice" @data-item-discount-rate="$tabData.items[_j].discountRate" @data-item-extra-desc="$tabData.items[_j].extraDesc"> $finalPrice gold <<if $finalPrice lt $tabData.items[_j].goldCost >> <div class="discount-note">$tabData.items[_j].goldCost</div> <</if>> </div> <<elseif $tabData.items[_j].iconText>> $tabData.items[_j].iconText <</if>> <<else>> <div @class="'icon item ' + $tabData.items[_j].hasIcon"></div> <</if>> </div> </div> <</for>> </div> </div> </div> <</for>> </div> </div> </div> </div> <</widget>> <</nobr>>

<<widget "fair_minus">> <<fair_plus $args[0] -$args[1]>> <</widget>> <<widget "opposed_stat">> <<nobr>> <div class="statBar"><<set _args2 to Math.round($args[2])>> <div style="float:right"> $args[1] <<= 100 - _args2>>% </div> <div class="statLeftBg" @style="'width:' + _args2 + '%'"> </div> <div> $args[0] _args2%</div> </div> <</nobr>> <</widget>> <<widget "sethealth">><<set $health to Math.clamp($health + $args[0], 0, 100)>><</widget>> <<widget "setgold">><<set $gold to Math.clamp($gold + $args[0], 0, 1000000)>><</widget>> <<widget "setreputation">><<set $reputation to Math.clamp($reputation + $args[0], 0, 100)>><</widget>> <<widget "setorder">><<set $order to Math.clamp($order + $args[0], 0, 100)>><</widget>> <<widget "setmagic">> <<if $part is 1>> <<set $magic to Math.clamp($magic + $args[0], 0, 35)>> <<elseif $part is 2>> <<set $magic to Math.clamp($magic + $args[0], 0, 50)>> <<elseif $part is 3>> <<set $magic to Math.clamp($magic + $args[0], 0, 60)>> <<elseif $part is 4>> <<set $magic to Math.clamp($magic + $args[0], 0, 70)>> <<elseif $part is 5>> <<set $magic to Math.clamp($magic + $args[0], 0, 80)>> /* <<elseif $part is 6>> <<set $magic to Math.clamp($magic + $args[0], 0, 85)>> <<elseif $part is 7>> <<set $magic to Math.clamp($magic + $args[0], 0, 95)>> */ <<else>> <<set $magic to Math.clamp($magic + $args[0], 0, 100)>> <</if>> <</widget>> <<widget "setstrength">><<set $strength to Math.clamp($strength + $args[0], 0, 100)>><</widget>> <<widget "setsword">><<set $sword to Math.clamp($sword + $args[0], 0, 100)>><</widget>> <<widget "setdagger">><<set $dagger to Math.clamp($dagger + $args[0], 0, 100)>><</widget>> <<widget "setgun">><<set $gun to Math.clamp($gun + $args[0], 0, 100)>><</widget>> <<widget "setbow">><<set $bow to Math.clamp($bow + $args[0], 0, 100)>><</widget>> <<widget "setarcane">><<set $arcane to Math.clamp($arcane + $args[0], 0, 100)>><</widget>> <<widget "setpsionic">><<set $psionic to Math.clamp($psionic + $args[0], 0, 100)>><</widget>> <<widget "setastral">><<set $astral to Math.clamp($astral + $args[0], 0, 100)>><</widget>> <<widget "setcourage">> <<if $part is 0>> <<set $courage to Math.clamp($courage + $args[0], 0, 25)>> <<elseif $part is 1>> <<set $courage to Math.clamp($courage + $args[0], 0, 40)>> <<elseif $part is 2>> <<set $courage to Math.clamp($courage + $args[0], 0, 55)>> <<elseif $part is 3>> <<set $courage to Math.clamp($courage + $args[0], 0, 65)>> <<elseif $part is 4>> <<set $courage to Math.clamp($courage + $args[0], 0, 75)>> <<elseif $part is 5>> <<set $courage to Math.clamp($courage + $args[0], 0, 90)>> <<elseif $part is 6 or $part is 7>> <<set $courage to Math.clamp($courage + $args[0], 0, 95)>> <<else>> <<set $courage to Math.clamp($courage + $args[0], 0, 100)>> <</if>> <</widget>> <<widget "setcharisma">> <<if $part is 0>> <<set $charisma to Math.clamp($charisma + $args[0], 0, 25)>> <<elseif $part is 1>> <<set $charisma to Math.clamp($charisma + $args[0], 0, 40)>> <<elseif $part is 2>> <<set $charisma to Math.clamp($charisma + $args[0], 0, 55)>> <<elseif $part is 3>> <<set $charisma to Math.clamp($charisma + $args[0], 0, 65)>> <<elseif $part is 4>> <<set $charisma to Math.clamp($charisma + $args[0], 0, 75)>> <<elseif $part is 5>> <<set $charisma to Math.clamp($charisma + $args[0], 0, 90)>> <<elseif $part is 6 or $part is 7>> <<set $charisma to Math.clamp($charisma + $args[0], 0, 95)>> <<else>> <<set $charisma to Math.clamp($charisma + $args[0], 0, 100)>> <</if>> <</widget>> <<widget "setintelligence">> <<if $part is 0>> <<set $intelligence to Math.clamp($intelligence + $args[0], 0, 25)>> <<elseif $part is 1>> <<set $intelligence to Math.clamp($intelligence + $args[0], 0, 40)>> <<elseif $part is 2>> <<set $intelligence to Math.clamp($intelligence + $args[0], 0, 55)>> <<elseif $part is 3>> <<set $intelligence to Math.clamp($intelligence + $args[0], 0, 65)>> <<elseif $part is 4>> <<set $intelligence to Math.clamp($intelligence + $args[0], 0, 75)>> <<elseif $part is 5>> <<set $intelligence to Math.clamp($intelligence + $args[0], 0, 90)>> <<elseif $part is 6 or $part is 7>> <<set $intelligence to Math.clamp($intelligence + $args[0], 0, 95)>> <<else>> <<set $intelligence to Math.clamp($intelligence + $args[0], 0, 100)>> <</if>> <</widget>> <<widget "setcunning">> <<if $part is 0>> <<set $cunning to Math.clamp($cunning + $args[0], 0, 25)>> <<elseif $part is 1>> <<set $cunning to Math.clamp($cunning + $args[0], 0, 40)>> <<elseif $part is 2>> <<set $cunning to Math.clamp($cunning + $args[0], 0, 55)>> <<elseif $part is 3>> <<set $cunning to Math.clamp($cunning + $args[0], 0, 65)>> <<elseif $part is 4>> <<set $cunning to Math.clamp($cunning + $args[0], 0, 75)>> <<elseif $part is 5>> <<set $cunning to Math.clamp($cunning + $args[0], 0, 90)>> <<elseif $part is 6 or $part is 7>> <<set $cunning to Math.clamp($cunning + $args[0], 0, 95)>> <<else>> <<set $cunning to Math.clamp($cunning + $args[0], 0, 100)>> <</if>> <</widget>> <<widget "setgood">><<set $good to Math.clamp($good + $args[0], 0, 100)>><</widget>> <<widget "setloyal">><<set $loyal to Math.clamp($loyal + $args[0], 0, 100)>> <<if $part lt 3>> <<set $loyal to Math.clamp($loyal + $args[0], 0, 75)>> <<else>> <<set $loyal to Math.clamp($loyal + $args[0], 0, 100)>> <</if>> <</widget>> <<widget "setcompassionate">> <<if $part lt 3>> <<set $compassionate to Math.clamp($compassionate + $args[0], 0, 75)>> <<else>> <<set $compassionate to Math.clamp($compassionate + $args[0], 0, 100)>> <</if>> <</widget>> <<widget "setfaith">> <<if $part lt 5>><<set $faith to Math.clamp($faith + $args[0], 0, 80)>> <<else>> <<set $faith to Math.clamp($faith + $args[0], 0, 100)>> <</if>> <</widget>> <<widget "setblade">> <<if $part is 2>> <<set $blade to Math.clamp($blade + $args[0], 0, 65)>> <<elseif $part is 3>> <<set $blade to Math.clamp($blade + $args[0], 0, 75)>> <<elseif $part is 4>> <<set $blade to Math.clamp($blade + $args[0], 0, 85)>> <<elseif $part is 5>> <<set $blade to Math.clamp($blade + $args[0], 0, 90)>> <<elseif $part is 6>> <<set $blade to Math.clamp($blade + $args[0], 0, 95)>> <<else>> <<set $blade to Math.clamp($blade + $args[0], 0, 100)>> <</if>> <</widget>> <<widget "settrouble">> <<if $part is 1>> <<set $trouble to Math.clamp($trouble + $args[0], 0, 60)>> <<elseif $part is 2>> <<set $trouble to Math.clamp($trouble + $args[0], 0, 75)>> <<elseif $part is 3>> <<set $trouble to Math.clamp($trouble + $args[0], 0, 85)>> <<elseif $part is 4 or $part is 5>> <<set $trouble to Math.clamp($trouble + $args[0], 0, 95)>> <<else>> <<set $trouble to Math.clamp($trouble + $args[0], 0, 100)>> <</if>><</widget>> <<widget "settallys">> <<if $part is 1>> <<set $tallys to Math.clamp($tallys + $args[0], 0, 60)>> <<elseif $part is 2>> <<set $tallys to Math.clamp($tallys + $args[0], 0, 70)>> <<elseif $part is 3>> <<set $tallys to Math.clamp($tallys + $args[0], 0, 75)>> <<elseif $part is 4 or $part is 5>> <<set $tallys to Math.clamp($tallys + $args[0], 0, 85)>> <<elseif $part is 6>> <<set $tallys to Math.clamp($tallys + $args[0], 0, 90)>> <<elseif $part is 7>> <<set $tallys to Math.clamp($tallys + $args[0], 0, 95)>> <<else>> <<set $tallys to Math.clamp($tallys + $args[0], 0, 100)>> <</if>><</widget>> <<widget "setshery">> <<if $part is 1>> <<set $shery to Math.clamp($shery + $args[0], 0, 60)>> <<elseif $part is 2>> <<set $shery to Math.clamp($shery + $args[0], 0, 75)>> <<elseif $part is 3 or $part is 4>> <<set $shery to Math.clamp($shery + $args[0], 0, 85)>> <<elseif $part gt 4 and $part lt 7>> <<set $shery to Math.clamp($shery + $args[0], 0, 95)>> <<else>> <<set $shery to Math.clamp($shery + $args[0], 0, 100)>> <</if>><</widget>> <<widget "setchase">> <<if $part is 2>> <<set $chase to Math.clamp($chase + $args[0], 0, 55)>> <<elseif $part is 3>> <<set $chase to Math.clamp($chase + $args[0], 0, 65)>> <<elseif $part is 4>> <<set $chase to Math.clamp($chase + $args[0], 0, 75)>> <<elseif $part is 5>> <<set $chase to Math.clamp($chase + $args[0], 0, 85)>> <<elseif $part is 6>> <<set $chase to Math.clamp($chase + $args[0], 0, 95)>> <<else>> <<set $chase to Math.clamp($chase + $args[0], 0, 100)>> <</if>><</widget>> <<widget "setriel">> <<if $part is 2>> <<set $riel to Math.clamp($riel + $args[0], 0, 60)>> <<elseif $part is 3 or $part is 4>> <<set $riel to Math.clamp($riel + $args[0], 0, 75)>> <<elseif $part is 5>> <<set $riel to Math.clamp($riel + $args[0], 0, 85)>> <<elseif $part gt 5 and $part lt 8>> <<set $riel to Math.clamp($riel + $args[0], 0, 95)>> <<else>> <<set $riel to Math.clamp($riel + $args[0], 0, 100)>> <</if>><</widget>> <<widget "sethalek">> <<if $part is 4>> <<set $halek to Math.clamp($halek + $args[0], 0, 70)>> <<elseif $part is 5>> <<set $halek to Math.clamp($halek + $args[0], 0, 80)>> <<elseif $part gt 5 and $part lt 8>> <<set $halek to Math.clamp($halek + $args[0], 0, 95)>> <<else>> <<set $halek to Math.clamp($halek + $args[0], 0, 100)>> <</if>> <</widget>> <<widget "setred">> <<if $redrelationship is not "ex" and $redrelationship is not "friend">> <<if $part is 3>> <<set $red to Math.clamp($red + $args[0], 0, 65)>> <<elseif $part is 4>> <<set $red to Math.clamp($red + $args[0], 0, 75)>> <<elseif $part is 5>> <<set $red to Math.clamp($red + $args[0], 0, 85)>> <<elseif $part is 6>> <<set $red to Math.clamp($red + $args[0], 0, 90)>> <<else>> <<set $red to Math.clamp($red + $args[0], 0, 100)>> <</if>> <<else>> <<if $part lt 7>> <<set $red to Math.clamp($red + $args[0], 0, 90)>> <<else>> <<set $red to Math.clamp($red + $args[0], 0, 100)>> <</if>> <</if>> <</widget>> <<widget "setayla">> <<if $part is 3>> <<set $ayla to Math.clamp($ayla + $args[0], 0, 60)>> <<elseif $part is 4>> <<set $ayla to Math.clamp($ayla + $args[0], 0, 70)>> <<elseif $part is 5>> <<set $ayla to Math.clamp($ayla + $args[0], 0, 90)>> <<elseif $part lt 8>> <<set $ayla to Math.clamp($ayla + $args[0], 0, 95)>> <<else>> <<set $ayla to Math.clamp($ayla + $args[0], 0, 100)>> <</if>><</widget>> <<widget "setbriony">> <<if $part is 5>> <<set $briony to Math.clamp($briony + $args[0], 0, 70)>> <<elseif $part is 6>> <<set $briony to Math.clamp($briony + $args[0], 0, 85)>> <<elseif $part is 7>> <<set $briony to Math.clamp($briony + $args[0], 0, 95)>> <<else>> <<set $briony to Math.clamp($briony + $args[0], 0, 100)>> <</if>> <</widget>> <<widget "setlavinet">> <<if $part is 6>> <<set $lavinet to Math.clamp($lavinet + $args[0], 0, 75)>> <<elseif $part is 7>> <<set $lavinet to Math.clamp($lavinet + $args[0], 0, 85)>> <<elseif $part is 8>> <<set $lavinet to Math.clamp($lavinet + $args[0], 0, 95)>> <<else>> <<set $lavinet to Math.clamp($lavinet + $args[0], 0, 100)>><</if>><</widget>> <<widget "setcroelle">><<set $croelle to Math.clamp($croelle + $args[0], 0, 100)>><</widget>> <<widget "setmimir">> <<if $part is 7>> <<set $mimir to Math.clamp($mimir + $args[0], 0, 70)>> <<elseif $part is 8>> <<set $mimir to Math.clamp($mimir + $args[0], 0, 85)>> <<elseif $part is 9>> <<set $mimir to Math.clamp($mimir + $args[0], 0, 95)>> <<else>> <<set $mimir to Math.clamp($mimir + $args[0], 0, 100)>> <</if>><</widget>> /* <<widget "romancecalc">> <<set _comtraitarray to [ ["blade", $bladeromanceflag], ["trouble", $troubleromanceflag], ["shery", $sheryromanceflag], ["riel", $rielromanceflag], ["chase", $chaseromanceflag], ["red", $redromanceflag], ["ayla", $aylaromanceflag], ["briony", $brionyromanceflag], ["lavinet", $lavinetromanceflag], ["prihine", $prihineromanceflag] ]>> <<set _comtraithighest = _comtraitarray[0][1]>> <<set _comtraithighname = _comtraitarray[0][0]>> <<for _i = 1; _i lt _comtraitarray.length; _i++>> <<if _comtraitarray[_i][1] > _comtraithighest>> <<set _comtraithighest = _comtraitarray[_i][1]>> <<set _comtraithighname = _comtraitarray[_i][0]>> <</if>> <</for>> <<set _tiedvariables to []>> <<for _i = 0; _i lt _comtraitarray.length; _i++>> <<if _comtraitarray[_i][1] is _comtraithighest>> <<set _tiedvariables.push(_comtraitarray[_i][0])>> <</if>> <</for>> <<if _tiedvariables.length is 1>> <<set $highestromanceflag = _comtraithighest>> <<set $highestromance to _comtraithighname>> <<else>> <<set $highestromanceflag = _comtraithighest>> <<set $highestromance to _tiedvariables[random(_tiedvariables.length - 1)]>> <</if>> <<unset _comtraitarray>> <<unset _comtraithighest>> <<unset _comtraithighname>> <</widget>> <- no filtering for genders */ <<widget "romancecalc">> <<set _comtraitarray to [ ["blade", $bladeromanceflag, "male"], ["trouble", $troubleromanceflag, "male"], ["shery", $sheryromanceflag, "female"], ["riel", $rielromanceflag, "male"], ["chase", $chaseromanceflag, "male"], ["red", $redromanceflag, "male"], ["ayla", $aylaromanceflag, "female"], ["briony", $brionyromanceflag, "female"], ["lavinet", $lavinetromanceflag, "female"], ["prihine", $prihineromanceflag, "female"] ]>> <<if $attractedto is "women">> <<set _comtraitarray = _comtraitarray.filter(function(char) { return char[2] === "female"; })>> <<elseif $attractedto is "men">> <<set _comtraitarray = _comtraitarray.filter(function(char) { return char[2] === "male"; })>> <</if>> <<set _comtraithighest = _comtraitarray[0][1]>> <<set _comtraithighname = _comtraitarray[0][0]>> <<for _i = 1; _i lt _comtraitarray.length; _i++>> <<if _comtraitarray[_i][1] > _comtraithighest>> <<set _comtraithighest = _comtraitarray[_i][1]>> <<set _comtraithighname = _comtraitarray[_i][0]>> <</if>> <</for>> <<set _tiedvariables to []>> <<for _i = 0; _i lt _comtraitarray.length; _i++>> <<if _comtraitarray[_i][1] is _comtraithighest>> <<set _tiedvariables.push(_comtraitarray[_i][0])>> <</if>> <</for>> <<if _tiedvariables.length is 1>> <<set $highestromanceflag = _comtraithighest>> <<set $highestromance to _comtraithighname>> <<else>> <<set $highestromanceflag = _comtraithighest>> <<set $highestromance to _tiedvariables[random(_tiedvariables.length - 1)]>> <</if>> <<unset _comtraitarray>> <<unset _comtraithighest>> <<unset _comtraithighname>> <</widget>> <<widget "friendshipcalc">> <<set _comtraitarray to [ ["blade", $blade], ["trouble", $trouble], ["tallys", $tallys], ["shery", $shery], ["riel", $riel], ["chase", $chase], ["red", $red], ["ayla", $ayla], ["halek", $halek], ["briony", $briony], ["lavinet", $lavinet], ["mimir", $mimir] ]>> <<set _comtraithighest = _comtraitarray[0][1]>> <<set _comtraithighname = _comtraitarray[0][0]>> <<for _i = 1; _i lt _comtraitarray.length; _i++>> <<if _comtraitarray[_i][1] > _comtraithighest>> <<set _comtraithighest = _comtraitarray[_i][1]>> <<set _comtraithighname = _comtraitarray[_i][0]>> <</if>> <</for>> <<set _tiedvariables to []>> <<for _i = 0; _i lt _comtraitarray.length; _i++>> <<if _comtraitarray[_i][1] is _comtraithighest>> <<set _tiedvariables.push(_comtraitarray[_i][0])>> <</if>> <</for>> <<if _tiedvariables.length is 1>> <<set $highestfriendshipnumber = _comtraithighest>> <<set $highestfriendship = _comtraithighname>> <<else>> <<set $highestfriendshipnumber = _comtraithighest>> <<set $highestfriendship = _tiedvariables[random(_tiedvariables.length - 1)]>> <</if>> <<unset _comtraitarray>> <<unset _comtraithighest>> <<unset _comtraithighname>> <<unset _tiedvariables>> <</widget>> <<widget "printAchievementsCount">> <<set _count to 0>> <<for _entry range `State.metadata.entries()`>> <<if _entry[0].startsWith("achieve_") and _entry[1] is true>><<set _count += 1>><</if>> <</for>> <<print _count>> <</widget>> <<widget "fake_choice">> <<set _text = $args[0]>> <<set _target = $args[1]>> <li><<link _text _target>><</link>></li> <</widget>> <<widget "page_break">> <<set _buttontext = $args[0]>> <<set _buttonpassage = $args[1]>> <center><<link '<div class="box-1"><div class="btn btn-one"><span>_buttontext</span></div></div>' _buttonpassage>><</link>></center> <</widget>> <<widget "hide_reuse">> <<set _hidereusetext = $args[0]>> <<set _hidereusetarget = $args[1]>> <<if not hasVisited(_hidereusetarget)>> <li><<link _hidereusetext _hidereusetarget>> <</link>></li> <</if>> <</widget>> <<widget "disabled">> <<set _text = $args[0]>> <<link '<div class="inactive-item"> _text </div>'>><</link>> <</widget>> <<widget "heritage">> <<set _text = $args[0]>> <<set _target = $args[1]>> <<link '<div class="heritage-item"> _text </div>' _target>><</link>> <</widget>> <<widget "chat">> <<set _text = $args[0]>> <<set _target = $args[1]>> <<link '<div class="talk-item"> _text </div>' _target>><</link>> <</widget>> <<widget "ask">> <<set _text = $args[0]>> <<set _target = $args[1]>> <<link '<div class="question-item"> _text </div>' _target>><</link>> <</widget>> <<widget "flirt">> <<set _text = $args[0]>> <<set _target = $args[1]>> <<link '<div class="flirt-item"> _text </div>' _target>><</link>> <</widget>> <<widget "coin">> <<set _text = $args[0]>> <<set _target = $args[1]>> <<link '<div class="shopping-item"> _text </div>' _target>><</link>> <</widget>> <<widget "achieve">> <<set _achievement = $args[0]>> <<if recall(_achievement) is undefined>> <<run memorize("numberofachievements", recall("numberofachievements", 0) + 1)>> <</if>> <<run memorize(_achievement, true)>> <</widget>> <<widget "notify_achievement">> <<set _achievement = $args[0]>> <<set _description = $args[1]>> <<if settings.notifications is true>> <<notify 7s>> <span class="fas fa-trophy"></span> Achievement:<br> _achievement <br><br> <span class="desc">_description</span> <</notify>> <</if>> <</widget>> <<widget "notify_tutorial">> <<set _tutorial = $args[0]>> <<if settings.notifications is true>> <<notify 5s>> <span class="fas fa-book-open"></span> Tutorial Unlocked! <br><br> <span class="desc"> _tutorial </span><</notify>> <</if>> <</widget>> <<widget "notify_map">> <<set _maptitle = $args[0]>> <<if settings.notifications is true>> <<notify 5s>> <span class="fas fa-scroll"></span> Map Unlocked! <br><br> <span class="desc"> _maptitle </span><br><</notify>> <</if>> <</widget>> <<widget "notify_gold">> <<set _gold = $args[0]>> <<if settings.notifications is true>> <<notify 5s>> <span class="fas fa-coins"></span> _gold <</notify>> <</if>> <</widget>> <<widget "notify_codex_culture">> <<set _codextitle = $args[0]>> <<if settings.notifications is true>> <<notify 5s>> <span class="fas fa-book-open"></span> Codex Entry <br>Unlocked! <br><br> <span class="fas fa-theater-masks"></span><span class="desc"> Culture: </span><br> _codextitle<</notify>> <</if>> <</widget>> <<widget "notify_codex_story">> <<set _codextitle = $args[0]>> <<if settings.notifications is true>> <<notify 5s>> <span class="fas fa-book-open"></span> Codex Entry <br>Unlocked! <br><br> <span class="fas fa-book"></span><span class="desc"> Story: </span><br> _codextitle<</notify>> <</if>> <</widget>> <<widget "notify_codex_history">> <<set _codextitle = $args[0]>> <<if settings.notifications is true>> <<notify 5s>> <span class="fas fa-book-open"></span> Codex Entry <br>Unlocked! <br><br> <span class="fas fa-landmark"></span><span class="desc"> History: </span><br> _codextitle<</notify>> <</if>> <</widget>> <<widget "notify_codex_religion">> <<set _codextitle = $args[0]>> <<if settings.notifications is true>> <<notify 5s>> <span class="fas fa-book-open"></span> Codex Entry <br>Unlocked! <br><br> <span class="fas fa-praying-hands"></span><span class="desc"> Religion: </span><br> _codextitle<</notify>> <</if>> <</widget>> <<widget "notify_codex_endarkened">> <<set _codextitle = $args[0]>> <<if settings.notifications is true>> <<notify 5s>> <span class="fas fa-book-open"></span> Codex Entry <br>Unlocked! <br><br> <span class="fas fa-book-dead"></span><span class="desc"> Endarkened: </span><br> _codextitle<</notify>> <</if>> <</widget>> <<widget "notify_codex_bestiary">> <<set _codextitle = $args[0]>> <<if settings.notifications is true>> <<notify 5s>> <span class="fas fa-book-open"></span> Codex Entry <br>Unlocked! <br><br> <span class="fas fa-dragon"></span><span class="desc"> Bestiary: </span><br> _codextitle<</notify>> <</if>> <</widget>> <<widget "bun">> <<set _bun to 0>> <<set _bun to random(1,4)>> <<if _bun is 1>> <<set $fairybread to "gold">> <<elseif _bun is 2>> <<set $fairybread to "pink">> <<elseif _bun is 3>> <<set $fairybread to "white">> <<else>> <<set $fairybread to "red">> <</if>> You break the bread and find that <<if $fairybread is "gold">> <<setgold +5>> the inside is gold! That signals good luck and fortune—particularly in terms of wealth—for the coming year. <<elseif $fairybread is "pink">> <<setcharisma +3>> the inside is pink! That signals good luck in your relationships this year, though it's neutral on other aspects, like wealth or illness. <<elseif $fairybread is "white">> <<setstrength +3>> the inside is white! That signals good health and wellbeing for the year, though it's neutral on other aspects, like wealth or relationships. <<else>> the inside is red. …Uh-oh. That means something disastrous may happen to you this year… <</if>> <</widget>> <<widget "grade">> <<set _score = $args[0]>> <<if _score >= 98>>A+ <<elseif _score >= 95>>A <<elseif _score >= 90>>A- <<elseif _score >= 88>>B+ <<elseif _score >= 85>>B <<elseif _score >= 80>>B- <<elseif _score >= 78>>C+ <<elseif _score >= 75>>C <<elseif _score >= 70>>C- <<elseif _score >= 68>>D+ <<elseif _score >= 65>>D <<elseif _score >= 60>>D- <<else>>F <</if>> <</widget>>

<<nobr>> <<widget "profile_menu">> <span class="display navigational-menu-horizontal"> [[Profile|Profile]] [[Relationships|Relationships]] [[Inventory|Inventory]] [[Journal|Journal]] [[Achievements|Achievements]] /* leave for Now, TODO remove later */ </span> <</widget>> <<widget "achievement_badge">> <div class="achievement-holder"> <div class="edge left-edge"> <div class="border-overlay"></div> </div> <div class="middle"> /*<div class="pre-title">ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED!</div> */ <div class="title">$args[0]</div> <div class="desc">$args[1]</div> </div> <div class="edge right-edge"> <div class="border-overlay"></div> </div> </div> <</widget>> <<widget "achievement_badge_locked">> <div class="achievement-holder-locked"> <div class="edge left-edge"> <div class="border-overlay"></div> </div> <div class="middle"> <div class="desc">$args[0]</div> </div> <div class="edge right-edge"> <div class="border-overlay"></div> </div> </div> <</widget>> <<widget "codex_menu">> <span class="display navigational-menu-horizontal"> [[Codex|Documents]] [[Glossary|Glossary]] [[Maps|Maps]] [[Character Guide|Character Guide]] [[Tutorials|Tutorials]] </span> <</widget>> /* journal_holder usage: - it will print a typical journal holder, if it has just 1 "tab type", there will be no tabs printed at the top - $args[0] is an object of navigation links, see format at the bottom of this comment - $args[1] is an extra class you can assign to journal-holder, for additional styling (i.e. documents-holder) - call this widget as: <<journal_holder $navigationLinks $extraJournalClass>> $you'd define navigation linsk where calling it, as such (i.e. check documents.twee: * Data contained in ..tabLinks: name <- name/Text of the link printed pasageTag <- which passages content will be printed in the journal entry once clicked (OR which passage it will redirect to, if it's a direct link to a passage) hideItem <- if a link has hideItem var and it's set to true then that item wont' be shown // TODO -> these below ones could be generalized better, to read directly from quests/jobs vars isCompleted <- NOTE -> this is for quests only really -> if a link has isCompleted, then a checkmark will be shown next to it isAccepted <- NOTE -> this is for quests only really -> if a job/quest has been accepted, and is not completed, then it will show as pending/in progress <<set $navigationLinks to { religion: { tabKey: "religion", tabName: "Religion", tabLinks: [ {hideItem: true, name: "The Canticle of Light", passageTag: "canticle_of_light"}, {name: "The Old Gods", passageTag: "old_gods"}, {name: "The Temple of Narthax", passageTag: "temple_of_narthax"} ] }, history: { tabKey: "history", tabName: "History", tabLinks: [ {name: "hThe Canticle of Light", passageTag: "canticle_of_light"}, {name: "hThe Old Gods", passageTag: "old_gods"}, {name: "The Temple of Narthax", passageTag: "temple_of_narthax"} ] }, calendar: { /* example of a direct link to passage on a tab tabKey: "calendar", tabName: "Calendar", tabType: "redirectToPassage", tabPassageLinkTag: "Calendar", tabLinks: [ ] } >> */ <<widget journal_holder>> <<set $tabKeys to Object.keys($args[0])>> <<set $hasTabs to ($tabKeys.length > 1)>> /* display tabs for navigation, if there's more than 1 tab type*/ <div @class="$args[1] + ' journal-holder'"> /* has to be done in this weird way for the variable to be evaluated within the class param*/ <div class="column-holder"> <div class="flex-column col-1 journal-navigation"> <div class="tabs-holder"> <<if $hasTabs>> /* print tabs if there-s more than 1*/ <div class="tabs column-holder flex-justify-center"> <<for _i to 0; _i lt $tabKeys.length; _i++>> <<set $tabData to $args[0][$tabKeys[_i]]>> <<if $tabData.tabType == "redirectToPassage">> /* tab can be a direct link */ <div class="tab flex-column" @data-type="$tabData.tabPassageLinkTag" data-action-type="go_to_passage">$tabData.tabName</div> <<else>> /* or an actual tab that loads/Changes content */ <<if _i == 0 >> /* make first one active by default */ <div class="tab flex-column active" @data-type="$tabData.tabKey" data-action-type="tab_switch" data-sub-type="show_journal_entry">$tabData.tabName</div> <<else>> <div class="tab flex-column" @data-type="$tabData.tabKey" data-action-type="tab_switch" data-sub-type="show_journal_entry">$tabData.tabName</div> <</if>> <</if>> <</for>> </div> <<else>> /* if not tabs, print the title, i.e .CHAPTERS TODO add as additional argument if needed */ <div class="title">$journalholdertitle</div> <<if tags().includes('journal')>><div class="under-header-frame variant2"></div><</if>> <</if>> <<for _i to 0; _i lt $tabKeys.length; _i++>> <<set $tabData to $args[0][$tabKeys[_i]]>> <<set $activeClass to (_i == 0 ? ' active' : '')>> /* NOTE: to prevent situations where i.e. we hide first link in a tab, and try to display the first index anyway, we actually have to find which is THE first visible link within a tab, and store that index for later down, where we auto display the first link We HAVE to assume that none are visible, so we'll just set it as -1, and then set it to 0 (or more9, for whatever the first visible link is) */ <<set $tabData.firstVisibleLinkID to -1>> <div @class="'tab-data ' + $activeClass" @data-type="$tabData.tabKey"> <div class="scroll-viewport"> <div class="scroll-holder"> <<if $hasTabs>> /* only print tabTitle if there's several tabs*/ <div class="title">$tabData.tabName</div> <</if>> <<for _j to 0; _j lt $tabData.tabLinks.length; _j++>> <<if $tabData.tabLinks[_j].hideItem >> <<continue>> /* The item is not available/hideItem flag is set for it, don't display it */ <</if>> <<if $tabData.firstVisibleLinkID == -1>> /* if no visible link ID was detected yet, set it to this one, as it'll be the first */ <<set $tabData.firstVisibleLinkID to _j>> <</if>> <<set $completedDiv = ''>> <<if (($tabData.tabLinks[_j].isCompleted === false) && ($tabData.tabLinks[_j].isAccepted === true)) >> <<set $completedDiv = '<div class="is-completed in-progress"></div>'>> <<elseif ($tabData.tabLinks[_j].isCompleted === false)>> <<set $completedDiv = '<div class="is-completed off"></div>'>> <<elseif ($tabData.tabLinks[_j].isCompleted === true)>> <<set $completedDiv = '<div class="is-completed"></div>'>> <</if>> <<if $tabData.tabLinks[_j].linkType == "redirectToPassage">> <div class="journal-link" data-action-type="go_to_passage" @data-type="$tabData.tabLinks[_j].passageTag">$completedDiv $tabData.tabLinks[_j].name</div> <<else>> <<if _j == 0 >> <div class="journal-link active" data-action-type="show_journal_entry" @data-type="$tabData.tabLinks[_j].passageTag">$completedDiv $tabData.tabLinks[_j].name</div> <<else>> <div class="journal-link" data-action-type="show_journal_entry" @data-type="$tabData.tabLinks[_j].passageTag">$completedDiv $tabData.tabLinks[_j].name</div> <</if>> <</if>> <</for>> </div> </div> </div> <</for>> </div> </div> <div class="flex-column col-1 journal-entries"> <div class="scroll-viewport"> <div class="scroll-holder"> /* just try to print the first entry of the first/Default chosen tab $args[0][$tabKeys[0]].firstVisibleLinkID*/ <<set $firstTabData to $args[0][$tabKeys[0]]>> <<set $firstVisibleLink to false >> <<if $firstTabData.firstVisibleLinkID gt -1 >> /* only print a default journal entry if it exists & is visible*/ <<set $firstVisibleLink to $firstTabData.tabLinks[$firstTabData.firstVisibleLinkID]>> <<if tale.has($firstVisibleLink.passageTag)>> <div class="journal-entry active" @data-type="$firstVisibleLink.passageTag"> <<include $firstVisibleLink.passageTag>> </div> <<else>> <div class="journal-entry active" @data-type="$firstVisibleLink.passageTag"> <p>There is no journal entry yet created for $firstVisibleLink.passageTag</p> </div> <</if>> <<else>> <p>There are no Journal entries available yet in this category.</p> <</if>> </div> </div> </div> </div> </div> <</widget>> /* letter_holder widget can be used for formal, casual & note letter scrolls Simply call widget as: <<letter_holder $letterType $letterContent>> Where: $letterType/$args[0] = formal/casual/note $letterContent/$args[1] = any passed HTML/.twee content */ <<widget letter_holder>> <div @class="$args[0] + ' letter-holder'"> /* has to be done in this weird way for the variable to be evaluated within the class param*/ <div class="letter-content"> <div class="scroll-viewport"> <div class="scroll-holder"> $args[1] </div> </div> </div> </div> <</widget>> /* $args[0] = $characterDetails = { tag: 'ayla', name: 'Ayla', mainDetails: [ {label: 'Rank', value: 'Commander'}, {label: 'Rank', value: 'Commander'}, {label: 'Rank', value: 'Commander'}, {label: 'Rank', value: 'Commander'}, ], descParagraphs: [ 'paragrph 1 dsa djkhsa dhkajhd ahsjkd hasjd hksjadh jashkd sahjd kjshad', 'paragrph 1 dsa djkhsa dhkajhd ahsjkd hasjd hksjadh jashkd sahjd kjshad', 'paragrph 1 dsa djkhsa dhkajhd ahsjkd hasjd hksjadh jashkd sahjd kjshad', 'paragrph 1 dsa djkhsa dhkajhd ahsjkd hasjd hksjadh jashkd sahjd kjshad' ] } */ <<widget character_popup_details>> <div class="character-popup-details"> /* has to be done in this weird way for the variable to be evaluated within the class param*/ <div class="column-holder ignore-responsive"> <div class="flex-column col-2 char-image" @data-type="$args[0].tag" @data-relationship-status="$args[0].relationshipStatus" @data-character-art="$args[0].characterArt" @data-lavinet-color="$args[0].lavinetColor"> </div> <div class="flex-column scroll-viewport col-3"> <div class="scroll-holder"> <div class="main-details"> <<for _i to 0; _i lt $args[0].mainDetails.length; _i++>> <label>$args[0].mainDetails[_i].label:</label> $args[0].mainDetails[_i].value <br /> <</for>> </div> <<for _i to 0; _i lt $args[0].descParagraphs.length; _i++>> <p>$args[0].descParagraphs[_i]</p> <</for>> </div> </div> </div> </div> <</widget>> /* maps_holder: args[0] -> REQUIRED mapConfig (See below of all available parameters) args[1] -> REQUIRED, BUT can be empty string i.e. "" <- will add an extra class to embedded_map_holder (if not in fullscreen), so you can optionally style it additionally - currently if you try to use the mapholder more than once on same page, only last one will be displayed. Could be changed with some extra work (1-2 hours) I suggest, if possible, to store all map configs in variables_maps.twee, as it's most covenient and easy to reuse. Then see examples in maps.twee how it is embedded, *However if you'd need variables7data from a specific passage, then it might be simpler to just create a specific map config variable on that page, to create/enter any sort of data into it's descriptions dynamically Examples of loading/inserting a map: <<map_holder $mapConfigs.world_map_fullscreen "">> <-- will open it fullscreen IMMEDIATELY /i.e. in that passage <<map_holder $mapConfigs.world_map_emdedded "">>--> <-- Example of emedding it wherever on the page, it will by default adjust to width of container, with a max 500px height <<map_holder $mapConfigs.world_map_emdedded "half-size">>--> <-- Example of providing a secondary class to holder To open a fullscreen map (i.e. on button/div click), simply add these attributes to Whatever "Button/div": <div class="somedivclass" data-action-type="open_map_fullscreen" data-type="world_map_fullscreen">CLICK HERE TO OPEN MAP FULLSCREEN </div> */ <<widget map_holder>> <<if $args[0].holderDOMSelector >> <div @class="$args[1] + ' embedded_map_holder'"></div> <</if>> <<set $currentWidgetArgs to $args>> <<script>> setTimeout(function() { /* slightly delayed so in case of page refresh, it makes sure SugarCube is inited & defined*/ console.log("before interactive map init fired!!!"); console.log("currentArgs: "); console.log(SugarCube.State.variables.currentWidgetArgs); console.log($('.embedded_map_holder')); let widgetArgs = SugarCube.State.variables.currentWidgetArgs; var myMap = InteractiveMap.init(widgetArgs[0]); }, 100); <</script>> <</widget>> /* IMPORTANT -> CURRENTLY DEPRECATED and NOT finished, but leaving here should we need this functionality in the future, as some work is done already dialogue_holder: TODO update below texts args[0] -> REQUIRED mapConfig (See below of all available parameters) args[1] -> REQUIRED, BUT can be empty string i.e. "" <- will add an extra class to embedded_map_holder (if not in fullscreen), so you can optionally style it additionally - currently if you try to use the mapholder more than once on same page, only last one will be displayed. Could be changed with some extra work (1-2 hours) I suggest, if possible, to store all map configs in variables_maps.twee, as it's most covenient and easy to reuse. Then see examples in maps.twee how it is embedded, *However if you'd need variables7data from a specific passage, then it might be simpler to just create a specific map config variable on that page, to create/enter any sort of data into it's descriptions dynamically Examples of loading/inserting a map: <<dialogue_holder $mapConfigs.world_map_fullscreen "">> <-- will open it fullscreen IMMEDIATELY /i.e. in that passage <<dialogue_holder $mapConfigs.world_map_emdedded "">>--> <-- Example of emedding it wherever on the page, it will by default adjust to width of container, with a max 500px height <<dialogue_holder $mapConfigs.world_map_emdedded "half-size">>--> <-- Example of providing a secondary class to holder To open a fullscreen map (i.e. on button/div click), simply add these attributes to Whatever "Button/div": <div class="somedivclass" data-action-type="open_map_fullscreen" data-type="world_map_fullscreen">CLICK HERE TO OPEN MAP FULLSCREEN </div> */ <<widget dialogue_holder>> <<if $args[0].holderDOMSelector >> <div @class="$args[1] + ' embedded_dialogue_holder'"></div> <</if>> <<set $currentWidgetArgs to $args>> <<script>> setTimeout(function() { /* slightly delayed so in case of page refresh, it makes sure SugarCube is inited & defined*/ console.log("before dialogue holder init fired!!!"); console.log("currentArgs: "); console.log(SugarCube.State.variables.currentWidgetArgs); console.log($('.embedded_dialogue_holder')); let widgetArgs = SugarCube.State.variables.currentWidgetArgs; var myDialogue = DialogueBox.init(widgetArgs[0]); }, 100); <</script>> <</widget>> /* Ribbon Banner: $args[0] - title - MANDATORY (in-banner text or even HTML (i.e. icons?) $args[1] - subtitle $args[2] - extra ribbon classes (For different styling etc.) */ <<widget ribbon_banner>> <div @class="$args[2] + ' ribbon-banner'"> <div class="left-edge ribbon-edge"></div> /* done like this NOT with pseudos, as there's some extra z-index issues in play here, so we want both in start of the DOM for them to display under */ <div class="right-edge ribbon-edge"></div> <div class="ribbon-title">$args[0]</div> <<if ($args[1] && $args[1] != "") >> <div class="ribbon-subtitle">$args[1]</div> <</if>> </div> <</widget>> /* quest_print Widget information: $args[0] - quest_key OR job_key $args[1] - "quest" OR "job" <- extra_class for styling AND defines if data is read from jobs or quests $args[2] - Set as "" if you want clicking "accept" to just stay on the same quests board (btu just refresh the page). Otherwise fi you set it to "any passage name", it will redirect to that passage after accepting */ <<widget quest_print>> <<if $args[1] === 'quest'>> <<set $questData = $quests[$args[0]]>> <<else>> <<set $questData = $jobs[$args[0]]>> <</if>> <div @class="$args[1] + ' quest_print'"> <div class="title">$questData.title</div> <div class="under-header-frame variant2"></div> <div class="desc">$questData.desc</div> <div class="rewards">REWARDS: <span>$questData.rewards</span> </div> <<if ($questData.is_completed) >> <div class="quest-status completed">COMPLETED</div> <<elseif ($questData.is_accepted) >> <div class="quest-status in-progress">IN PROGRESS</div> <div class="quest-status accept" @data-action-type="'accept_' + $args[1]" @data-type="$args[0]" @data-go-to-passage="$args[2]">COMPLETE</div> <<else>> <div class="quest-status accept" @data-action-type="'accept_' + $args[1]" @data-type="$args[0]" @data-go-to-passage="$args[2]">ACCEPT</div> <</if>> </div> <</widget>> /* Place the newspaper_navigation widget on any newspaper passages? TODO is this correct? */ <<widget newspaper_navigation>> <div class="navigation-arrow previous-arrow" data-action-type="previous_newspaper"></div> <div class="navigation-arrow next-arrow" data-action-type="next_newspaper"></div> <</widget>> <</nobr>>

<<set $correctname to false>> <<set $avoidtellingcaine to false>> <<set $appearancedif to "">> <<set $possibleheritage to "">> <<set $avoidcaine to false>> <<set $staycaine to false>> <<set $nameday to "">> <<set $zorimale to false>> <<set $zorifemale to false>> <<set $zorixix to false>> <<set $zorishe to "">> <<set $zoriher to "">> <<set $zorihers to "">> <<set $zorithem to "">> <<set $kissguard to false>> <<set $kissguardsuccess to false>> <<set $runfromdemon to false>> <<set $runtowardsdemon to false>> <<set $cainedead to false>> <<set $prihinedead to false>> <<set $cainesafe to false>> <<set $prihinesafe to false>> <<set $bothdead to false>> <<set $bothsafe to false>> <<set $didntusemagicatthechurch to false>> <<set $shepherdsjoin to false>> <<set $shepherdsconscript to false>> <<set $heritagenote to false>>

<<set $troubleequalist to false>> <<set $tallysequalist to false>> <<set $confrontequalists to false>> /*unset after chapter 2? */ <<set $childrensafe to false>> <<set $childrendead to false>> <<set $childrenquarantined to false>> <<set $childrenhome to false>> <<set $childreninquisitors to false>> <<set $darktome to false>> <<set $inquisitors to false>> <<set $inquisitorswin to false>> <<set $croellesave to false>> <<set $coinscar to false>> <<set $rikaalive to false>> <<set $equalistscompoundintact to false>> <<set $encounteredblaphemel to false>> <<set $rika to false>> <<set $rika1 to false>> <<set $rika2 to false>> <<set $ratvisit to true>> <<set $ratscondition to 10>> <<set $visithouse to false>> <<set $rattry to 0>> <<set $equ to false>>

/*------------------------------ CHAPTER 2 -------------------------------- */ <<set $noticegraffiti to false>> <<set $followedchase to false>> <<set $followedriel to false>> <<set $rielinvestigation to false>> <<set $punishebert to false>> <<set $punishebertmore to false>> <<set $chaseinvestigation to false>> <<set $prihinefavor to false>> <<set $turtihates to false>> <<set $formalwear to "">> <<set $formalwearhave to false>> <<set $cainesmomtell to false>> <<set $clochusalive to false>> <<set $chandryowesmoney to false>> <<set $metzilka to false>>

/*------------------------------ CHAPTER 3 -------------------------------- */ <<set $shepherdsknow to false>> <<set $charmfrom to "">> <<set $charm to "">> <<set $redrelationship to "">> <<set $dreampartner to "">> <<set $possessed to false>> <<set $mask to "">> <<set $maskmask to false>> <<set $caprasouvie to false>> <<set $caprasouvenir to "">> <<set $capradayoff to false>>

/*------------------------------ CHAPTER 4 -------------------------------- */ <<set $dreamer to "">> <<set $tangrieljournal to false>> <<set $tangrielmedallion to false>> <<set $moonsilkpunish to false>> <<set $moonsilkpunishmore to false>> <<set $lachryma to false>> <<set $huntercure to false>> <<set $hunterheritage to false>> <<set $huntersouvenir to false>> <<set $huntersouvenir2 to false>> <<set $metmekduk to false>> <<set $tangrielsring to false>> <<set $tangrielsringcolor to "">> <<set $savemekduk to false>>

/*------------------------------ CHAPTER 5 -------------------------------- */ <<set $traumatized to 0>> <<set $halekfaithknow to false>> /*unset */ <<set $gladiatortitle to "">> <<set $thummadead to false>> <<set $thummasaved to false>> <<set $jarkythfate to "">> <<set $hierophantalive to false>> <<set $hierophantdead to false>> <<set $hierophantfavor to false>> <<set $hierophanttruth to false>> <<set $natheoutcome to "">> <<set $wyvernoutcome to "">> <<set $wyvernpunch to false>> <<set $brionyoutcome to "">> <<set $tovrikkill to false>> <<set $sparetovrik to false>> <<set $formalwearhave2 to false>> <<set $formalwearhave3 to false>> <<set $souvenirhethmacoll to false>> <<set $souvenirgladiator to false>>

/*------------------------------ CHAPTER 6 -------------------------------- */ <<set $cheekscar to false>> <<set $samona to false>> <<set $makeout to false>> <<set $ons to false>> <<set $brawl to false>> <<set $auberonsnobles to false>> <<set $sawisolde to false>> <<set $nobles to 50>> <<set $eldercouncil to 1>> <<set $auberongold to "">> <<set $elementalguard to false>> <<set $lavinetkidnapped to false>> <<set $capturedangant to false>> <<set $angant to 0>> <<set $lavimoregold to false>> <<set $lavisneakout to "">> <<set $rusesucceed to false>> <<set $lockwood to "">> <<set $lavinetbarter to false>> <<set $lavinettraded to "">> <<set $horn to false>>

/*------------------------------ CHAPTER 7 -------------------------------- */ <<set $perfume to false>> <<set $lockwoodsouvenir to false>> <<set $sunhat to false>> <<set $sheryread to false>> /* unset? */ <<set $sheryknowread to false>> /* unset? */ <<set $chasenote to false>> <<set $swampclue to 0>> <<set $wallmire to 50>> <<set $thurlmercy to false>> <<set $thurldead to false>> <<set $changelingstatus to "">> <<set $uusaemri to false>>

<<set $godzpowers to false>> <<set $robyn to false>> <<set $maguswards to false>> <<set $arcanecrystal to false>> <<set $towerexit to false>> <<set $firstplace to 0>> <<set $trial to 3>> <<set $confession to false>> <<set $tallyslavinetfriends to false>> <<set $landsense to false>> <<set $riegarkernefate to "">>

<<set $darktomesibella to false>> <<set $sibellapoisoned to false>> <<set $metkeph to false>> <<set $keph to 0>> <<set $knowsibellaprotection to true>> <<set $freetheleashed to 0>> <<set $amezutalk to 0>> <<set $amezuknow to false>> <<set $croelleclue to 0>>

A remote Norm city considered to be the westernmost major outpost of the Autarchy. It is infamous for its groundbreaking technological advancements. Many Norm physickers are trained here, and the world\'s first aircraft is currently being prototyped in Lindell. <p>Description 2 das das da <div class="btn" data-action-type="go_to_passage" data-type="gambling" data-spend-gold="50" >Go To Gambling</div></p>

<<nobr>> <<set $someTestVar to "This is my test var loaded in a popup content!">> This is some extra content of world_map_popup2: $someTestVar And this below is extra content: A hot, arid, untamed land that has been barely explored by mapmakers or historians, featuring rugged canyons, vast seas of sand dunes, and even underground rivers. While there are some organized settlements, many straggling tribes live in hive-like caves in the Jalis hills. Recent years have seen this area as an active warzone between multiple warlords vying for power; however, it has most recently been united in a loose collection of settlements known as "the Jalis Lugalate." The lugalate, however, is not recognized as a legitimate government by the Autarchy. <</nobr>> /* Notes on map configs: map_img_src is the link to map image interest_points are interactive points on the map: id: make sure to change/increment the "id: x", value for any you add pos: x/y relative position to size of image, points will be centered on top of it. I.e. if the image is 2000x1000 in size, and you wanted to put the points at 800x200 on the image, then you'd have to provide pos: {x: 0.4, y: 0.2}, as 800/2000 = 0.4 and 200/1000 = 0.2 by default interest points will be 40x40px in size (on 100% zoom), but you can provide width or height (or both), if you want to make the size bigger or smaller (and in any valid CSS size -> px, em, rem, vh,vm, %... title: title of the tooltip content: any HTML/twee content you want to add in here, supported styling already: general text paragraphs <p></p> images <img src="xxxx.jpg"> <- will fit the tooltip width "text link" to passages <- <div class="btn-link" data-action-type="go_to_passage" data-type="NameofpassageHere"></div> "btn" in separate line to passages <- <div class="btn" data-action-type="go_to_passage" data-type="NameofpassageHere"></div> holderDOMSelector <- if this is not provided, it will open the map (immediately) in fullscreen if you want to embed it somewhere, make sure to include: holderDOMSelector: '.embedded_map_holder' TIP: When providing texts for content in several line, I suggest to enclose them in `` instead of "" or '', because `` allow you to break lines, which makes it much easier to keep it neat and organized and easily visible (i.e. you can align/indent it by lines without breaking the string) */ /* Example of using twee variables -> You CAN use twee variables in the config, BUT it CAN'T be put within a string like so: <<set $someVariable1 to "THISISSOMEVARIABLE">> "Some string $tweeVariable continue string" <- WON'T WORK "Some string " + $tweeVariable + "continue string" <- WILL WORK IMPORTANT NOTE -> Directly inserting passage content or processing other .twee content within the mapConfig variable at this time WON'T work, as this is sent to JS as an object, and it will cause an error. HOWEVER, we can do something similar that we do with letter_holder arguments, that is using Story.get("passageName").text and storing that into a variable, i.e.: <<set $passageContentText to Story.get("callsigns_doc").text>> But I'd be careful with above, as it might not always work as expected - but if it's simple passages, with more or less just text, it should be fine. Examples below (feel free to delete) */ <<set $someVariable1 to "THISISSOMEVARIABLE">> <<set $passageContentText to Story.get("callsigns_doc").text>> <<set $mapConfigs to { world_map_embedded: { map_img_src: 'assets/images/ui/game_art/maps/worldmap.jpg', interest_points: [ {id: 0, pos: {x: 0.10, y: 0.49}, width: "80px", height: "80px", tag: 'tag_1', title: 'Title 1' + $someVariable1, content: `Description 1 ` + $someVariable1 + $passageContentText + ` <br />da dsa d<br />da dsa d<br />da dsa d<br />da dsa d<br />da dsa d<br />da dsa d<br />da dsa d<br />da dsa d<br />da dsa d<br />da dsa d <br />da dsa d<br />da dsa d<br />da dsa d<br />da dsa d<br />da dsa d<br />da dsa d<br />da dsa d <br />da dsa d<br />da dsa d<br />da dsa d<br />da dsa d<br />da dsa d<br />da dsa d<br />da dsa d `}, {id: 1, pos: {x: 0.53, y: 0.28}, tag: 'tag_2', title: 'Title 2', content: `<p>Description 2 das das da sad asd asd asd asd asd as dasd</p> <p>Description 2 das das da <div class="btn-link" data-action-type="go_to_passage" data-type="Profile">This is an inline link to Profile passage</div></p> <p>Description 2 das das da sad asd asd asd asd asd as dasd</p> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/maps/worldmap.jpg" /> <p>Description 2 das das da sad asd asd asd asd asd as dasd</p> <div class="btn" data-action-type="go_to_passage" data-type="Profile">GO TO PROFILE</div> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/maps/worldmap.jpg" /> `}, {id: 2, pos: {x: 0.48, y: 0.56}, tag: 'tag_3', title: 'Title 3', content: `<p>Description 2 das das da sad asd asd asd asd asd as dasd</p> <p>Description 2 das das da <div class="btn-link" data-action-type="go_to_passage" data-type="Profile">This is an inline link to Profile passage</div></p> <p>Description 2 das das da sad asd asd asd asd asd as dasd</p> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/maps/worldmap.jpg" /> <p>Description 2 das das da sad asd asd asd asd asd as dasd</p> <div class="btn" data-action-type="go_to_passage" data-type="Profile">GO TO PROFILE</div> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/maps/worldmap.jpg" /> `} ], holderDOMSelector: '.embedded_map_holder' }, world_map_fullscreen: { map_img_src: 'assets/images/ui/game_art/maps/worldmap.jpg', defaultZoomSize: 0.5, interest_points: [ {id: 0, pos: {x: 0.10, y: 0.49}, width: "80px", height: "80px", tag: 'tag_1', title: 'Title 1' + $someVariable1, content: `Description 1` + $someVariable1 + $passageContentText + ` <br />da dsa d<br />da dsa d<br />da dsa d<br />da dsa d<br />da dsa d<br />da dsa d<br />da dsa d<br />da dsa d<br />da dsa d<br />da dsa d <br />da dsa d<br />da dsa d<br />da dsa d<br />da dsa d<br />da dsa d<br />da dsa d<br />da dsa d <br />da dsa d<br />da dsa d<br />da dsa d<br />da dsa d<br />da dsa d<br />da dsa d<br />da dsa d `}, {id: 1, pos: {x: 0.53, y: 0.28}, tag: 'tag_2', title: 'Title 2', content: `<p>Description 2 das das da sad asd asd asd asd asd as dasd</p> <p>Description 2 das das da <div class="btn-link" data-action-type="go_to_passage" data-type="Profile">This is an inline link to Profile passage</div></p> <p>Description 2 das das da sad asd asd asd asd asd as dasd</p> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/maps/worldmap.jpg" /> <p>Description 2 das das da sad asd asd asd asd asd as dasd</p> <div class="btn" data-action-type="go_to_passage" data-type="Profile">GO TO PROFILE</div> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/maps/worldmap.jpg" /> `}, {id: 2, pos: {x: 0.48, y: 0.56}, tag: 'tag_3', title: 'Title 3', content: `<p>Description 2 das das da sad asd asd asd asd asd as dasd</p> <p>Description 2 das das da <div class="btn-link" data-action-type="go_to_passage" data-type="Profile">This is an inline link to Profile passage</div></p> <p>Description 2 das das da sad asd asd asd asd asd as dasd</p> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/maps/worldmap.jpg" /> <p>Description 2 das das da sad asd asd asd asd asd as dasd</p> <div class="btn" data-action-type="go_to_passage" data-type="Profile">GO TO PROFILE</div> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/maps/worldmap.jpg" /> `} ], }, haven_map_embedded: { extraClasses: 'haven-map', disableWheelZoom: true, setZoomToFillContainerSizeBy: 'width', map_img_src: 'assets/images/ui/game_art/maps/haven_map_smaller.jpg', interest_points: [ {id: 0, pos: {x: 0.10, y: 0.49}, width: "80px", height: "80px", tag: 'tag_1', title: 'Title 1' + $someVariable1, content: `Description 1 ` + $someVariable1 + $passageContentText + ` <br />da dsa d<br />da dsa d<br />da dsa d<br />da dsa d<br />da dsa d<br />da dsa d<br />da dsa d<br />da dsa d<br />da dsa d<br />da dsa d <br />da dsa d<br />da dsa d<br />da dsa d<br />da dsa d<br />da dsa d<br />da dsa d<br />da dsa d <br />da dsa d<br />da dsa d<br />da dsa d<br />da dsa d<br />da dsa d<br />da dsa d<br />da dsa d `}, {id: 1, pos: {x: 0.53, y: 0.28}, tag: 'tag_2', title: 'Title 2', content: `<p>Description 2 das das da sad asd asd asd asd asd as dasd</p> <p>Description 2 das das da <div class="btn-link" data-action-type="go_to_passage" data-type="Profile">This is an inline link to Profile passage</div></p> <p>Description 2 das das da sad asd asd asd asd asd as dasd</p> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/maps/worldmap.jpg" /> <p>Description 2 das das da sad asd asd asd asd asd as dasd</p> <div class="btn" data-action-type="go_to_passage" data-type="Profile">GO TO PROFILE</div> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/maps/worldmap.jpg" /> `}, {id: 2, pos: {x: 0.48, y: 0.56}, tag: 'tag_3', title: 'Title 3', content: `<p>Description 2 das das da sad asd asd asd asd asd as dasd</p> <p>Description 2 das das da <div class="btn-link" data-action-type="go_to_passage" data-type="Profile">This is an inline link to Profile passage</div></p> <p>Description 2 das das da sad asd asd asd asd asd as dasd</p> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/maps/worldmap.jpg" /> <p>Description 2 das das da sad asd asd asd asd asd as dasd</p> <div class="btn" data-action-type="go_to_passage" data-type="Profile">GO TO PROFILE</div> <img src="assets/images/ui/game_art/maps/worldmap.jpg" /> `} ], holderDOMSelector: '.embedded_map_holder' }, }; >>

<<set $someVariable1 to "THISISSOMEVARIABLE">> <<set $passageContentText to Story.get("callsigns_doc").text>> <<set $dialogueConfigs to { shopkeeper: { box_img_src: 'assets/images/ui/game_art/maps/worldmap.jpg', holderDOMSelector: '.embedded_dialogue_holder', default_text: 'This is some default text for the dialogue box' } }; >>

/% /* this file contains some examples on how you could use variables globaly in a more manageable/organize way, i.e., how to organize inventory items better */ /* What are "arrays"? They're essentially a list of some value, that you can loop through or access at a certain index (first item is at index 0, then increments by 1), It is initiated with the square brackes [], i.e. example: <<set $myList to [ "item1", "item2", "item3" ]>> Then i.e. to get the second item (say to print it in html), you could do: $myList[1] You could also mix variable types it stores at will (i.e. strings, numbers, objects...), but typically you have the same type of data in it <<set $myList to [ "item1", 3, {name: "some object"}, 4, 5... ]>> Why are arrays good? To loop through stuff! and not having to repeat code as much, and being much more manageable to look at and work. In SugarCube, you do so with this: <<for _i to 0; _i lt $myList.length; _i++>> // _i is a variable/index, that goes through 0, to myList.length - 1 (i.e. if 3 items in array, goes from 0-2) <div>$myList[_i]</div> // will print each list item in a div, from the first, to the last <</for>> // you can also add in additional conditions, like say giving a red background class to each odd div printed or something like that <<for _i to 0; _i lt $myList.length; _i++>> <<if _i % 2 == 1 >> <div class="red">$myList[_i]</div> <<else>> <div>$myList[_i]</div> <</if>> <</for>> // How can you add new items to an array? Super easy- well, at least adding them at the end, which is the example I'll do for now: <<set $myList.push("item4")>> <<set $myList.push("item5")>> What are "Objects"? Essentially, a way to store any sort of variable and being able to reference it by a "key". In JS & Twee, you do so with the curly brackets {}, and within the curly brackets there can be any sort of key: variableType pair. They are super useful when you want to store a lot of different data about an object, or when you want to easily reference a certain data by a known key. (i.e. in arrays, items is stored in order of how they're added, and you fetch them via index of order, which you can't easily know "oh is my grey sword at index 1 or 15435435?. But with object, if the key of that is "my_grey_sword", it can always be referenced by that key) i.e. example: <<set $someItems to { my_grey_sword: { name: "My Grey Sword", listOfSpices: ["pepper", "salt", "tomato"] }, my_other_sword: { name: "My Other sword", listOfSpices: ["pepper", "salt", "tomato"] } }>> So you could reference the grey sword like this: $someItems.my_grey_sword and any of it's values like: $someItems.my_grey_sword.name <- gets string/name of this sword or $someItems.my_grey_sword.listOfSpices[2] <- gets third item within that array A few notes: - object keys can't have spaces, and I recommend to use under_score_format, or camelCaseFormat for the keys NOT GOOD/WON'T WORK: { list of spices: [] } GOOD: { list_of_spices: []}, ALSO GOOD: { listOfSpices: []} - you can nest objects at will, so they're super useful to categorize stuff (see example for inventory below) */ /* example 1 - inventory items and their "state"/if user has them etc. */ /* <<set $inventory to { weapons: { categoryKey: "weapons", categoryName: "Weapons", items: { grey_iron_sword: {hasAmount: 1, name: "GREY IRON SWORD", desc: "A STANDARD MERCENARY'S SWORD. ITS METAL IS DULL BUT DURABLE.", hasIcon: 'weight'}, simple_dagger: {hasAmount: 0, name: "SIMPLE DAGGER", desc: "A DAGGER WITH A SIMPLE HILT. IT'S A BIT BATTERED, BUT VERY SHARP.", hasIcon: 'bowling-ball'}, }, }, armor: { categoryKey: "armor", categoryName: "Armor", items: { shepher_cloak: {hasAmount: 2, name: "SHEPHERD CLOAK", desc: "THE SHEPHERDS' CLOAK AND UNIFORM, OUTFITTED IN BLACK AND SILVER COLORS.", hasIcon: 'head-empty'}, sun_medallion: {hasAmount: 0, name: "SUN MEDALLION", desc: "THE SHEPHERDS' OFFICIAL BADGE AND THE EMBLEM OF YOUR ORDER.", hasIcon: 'head-empty'}, } }, ... }>>*/ /* With the above, then you could easily reference any of inventory items, from anywhere, and adjust/add any extra variables to them, and also make it much easier to loop through the whole inventory, and printing stuff based on if user has them or not (or i.e. even deleting/resetting all of the stuff if say character dies or something*/ Increasing amount of grey_iron_sword by 1: <<set $inventory.weapons.items.grey_iron_sword.hasAmount to $inventory.weapons.items.grey_iron_sword.hasAmount + 1>> Checking amount/if user has an iron sword: <<if $inventory.weapons.items.grey_iron_sword.hasAmount > 0>> <</if>> // How can you add new items/keys/values to an objects? Even easier than on Arrays, as you don't have to push them at the end, but really assign them any key, that's not used yet (if it's already used, ti will simply override the other values // i.e. adding a new category of inventory category and their items dynamically <<set $inventory.gifts to { categoryKey: "gifts", categoryName: "Gifts", items: { shepher_cloak: {hasAmount: 2, name: "SHEPHERD CLOAK", desc: "THE SHEPHERDS' CLOAK AND UNIFORM, OUTFITTED IN BLACK AND SILVER COLORS.", hasIcon: 'head-empty'}, sun_medallion: {hasAmount: 0, name: "SUN MEDALLION", desc: "THE SHEPHERDS' OFFICIAL BADGE AND THE EMBLEM OF YOUR ORDER.", hasIcon: 'head-empty'}, } } >> NOTE: While in .twee you can't directly loop through objects, you can convert an object's keys to an array, and then loop through an array of object keys & values. This is super useful when you want stuff to be reached by a specific known string/key (i.e. categories in items => weapons, armor...), but also want to be able to access them all in a loop (i.e. pritn all tabs, and their contents) You have an example of this in inventory_holder.twee, but this is the jist of it: <<set $objectKeys to Object.keys($myObject)>> // gets object's keys into an array so we can loop it later <<for _i to 0; _i lt $objectKeys.length; _i++>> <div>Object category: $objectKeys[_i] , object category value: $myObject[$objectKeys[_i]]</div> <</for>> You can combine arrays & objects for some super powerful stuff, that reduces code repetition, and makes it way more manageable to edit, adjust & reuse things! It's a very simple, but super powerful concept, that the more you get used to, the more you will start gettign comfortable with it and it will becomes second nature slowly to use in all sort of situations :) */ %/

/% COMMENTED OUT ALL OF THIS HANDLING, AS IT's NOW HANDLED in 1_!_game_ui.js for more customization! @Lena FEEL FREE TO DELETE THIS FILE NOW! /* set up some hotkeys */ <<on 'keydown'>> <<which 32>> /* the space bar */ <<toggleclass '#one' 'closed'>> <</on>> <<on 'keydown'>> <<which 80>> /* the p key */ <<goto 'Profile'>> <</on>> <<on 'keydown'>> <<which 67>> /* the c key */ <<goto 'Documents'>> <<which 71>> /* the g key */ <<goto 'Glossary'>> <<which 73>> /* the i key */ <<goto 'Inventory'>> <<which 65>> /* the j key */ <<goto 'Achievements'>> <<which 74>> /* the a key */ <<goto 'Journal'>> <<which 82>> /* the r key */ <<goto 'Relationships'>> <<which 84>> /* the t key */ <<goto 'Tutorials'>> <<which 83>> /* the s key */ <<script>>UI.saves()<</script>> <<which 77>> /* the m key */ <<script>>UI.settings()<</script>> <<which 88>> /* the x key */ <<if tags().includes('noreturn')>> <<script>>Engine.backward()<</script>> <</if>> /* close any dialog box when the player presses esc */ <<which 27>> <<trigger 'click' '#ui-dialog-close'>> <</on>> %/

<<cacheaudio "havenstheme" "assets/music/havenstheme.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "creditstheme" "assets/music/creditstheme.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "greenerpastures" "assets/music/greenerpastures.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "pageturn" "assets/sounds/page.wav">> <<cacheaudio "inventory" "assets/sounds/leather_inventory.wav">> <<cacheaudio "wateringplants" "assets/sounds/wateringplants.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "coin" "assets/sounds/buy_item.wav">> <<cacheaudio "notification" "assets/sounds/notification.wav">> <<cacheaudio "knock" "assets/sounds/knock.mp3">> /* need to implement coin and notification sounds, if desired */ <<cacheaudio "shop" "assets/music/chandrysshop.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "city" "assets/music/thecityofhaven.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "hq" "assets/music/kulkijanlaulu.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "theme" "assets/music/shepherdsofhaven.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "gambling" "assets/music/thegoldenway.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "battle" "assets/music/wolvesinwar.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "battle2" "assets/music/battle_thelaststand.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "battle3" "assets/music/facingdemons.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "battle4" "assets/music/godzillavskong.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "church" "assets/music/spiritsrefuge.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "room2" "assets/music/rudiberttheshopkeeper.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "camp" "assets/music/camp_short.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "blade" "assets/music/character songs/bladestheme.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "trouble" "assets/music/character songs/troublestheme.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "tallys" "assets/music/character songs/tallysstheme.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "shery" "assets/music/character songs/sherystheme.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "riel" "assets/music/character songs/rielstheme.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "chase" "assets/music/character songs/chasestheme.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "red" "assets/music/character songs/redstheme.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "ayla" "assets/music/character songs/aylastheme.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "halek" "assets/music/character songs/halekstheme.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "briony" "assets/music/character songs/brionystheme.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "lavinet" "assets/music/character songs/lavinetstheme.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "mimir" "assets/music/character songs/mimirstheme.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "prihine" "assets/music/character songs/prihinestheme.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "caine" "assets/music/character songs/cainestheme.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "croelle" "assets/music/character songs/croellestheme.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "dungeon" "assets/music/dungeon_atmosphere.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "calmtavern" "assets/music/midnighttale.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "gala" "assets/music/gala.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "sneak" "assets/music/sneak_short.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "candleday" "assets/music/eldemoorsmarket.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "capra" "assets/music/capra.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "nightmare" "assets/music/nightmare.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "phantomshore" "assets/music/astralplane.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "phantomshorefinal" "assets/music/hellishdungeon.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "renewal" "assets/music/emondsfield.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "allheroeseve" "assets/music/festival.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "snow" "assets/music/winter_short.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "reach" "assets/music/thereach.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "cave" "assets/music/caveofmanymouths.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "recovery" "assets/music/astormiscoming.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "wintersun" "assets/music/winterplaza.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "hethmacoll" "assets/music/alkazaarsappendix_short.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "prearena" "assets/music/thegrimreapers.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "arena" "assets/music/arena.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "arena2" "assets/music/arena2.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "wyvern" "assets/music/thedraniksrage.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "arenainvestigate" "assets/music/arenainvestigate.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "roadtrip" "assets/music/roadtrip.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "livelytavern" "assets/music/redfoxtavern.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "lockwood" "assets/music/lockwood.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "elementals" "assets/music/elementals.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "wonder" "assets/music/faeries.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "rain" "assets/music/rain.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "wind" "assets/music/creepyforest.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "swamp" "assets/music/bleakmoormarshes.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "templedownstairs" "assets/music/dwarvenkingstomb_short.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "templeupstairs" "assets/music/dwarvenruins.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "thurlshouse" "assets/music/borntodarkness.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "festival" "assets/music/ascendancy.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "magus" "assets/music/takatownbythelake.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "tuathaan" "assets/music/tuathaan.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "elvenquarter" "assets/music/elvenquarter.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "thetree" "assets/music/oldcreekgrove.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "suncourt" "assets/music/suncourt.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "finalbattle" "assets/music/finalbattle.mp3">> <<createplaylist "menusongs">> <<track "greenerpastures" volume 0.5>> <<track "havenstheme" volume 0.5>> <<track "creditstheme" volume 0.2>> <</createplaylist>>

Lena Nguyen

<div id="container"> <div id="returntomenu"></div> <div id="header"> <span id="header-text" onclick="toggleMenu(this)"></span> <div class="menutoggle"> <span id="zero" onclick="toggleMenu(this)"> ✵ </span> </div> </div> <div id="main-content"> <div id="story"> <div id="passages">  </div> </div> <div class="main-menu"> <span id="one" class="closed"> <div class="container"> <div class="menu-top-icon" onclick="toggleMenu()"></div> <div class="menu-flex"></div>  </div> </span> </div> </div> <div id="returnbutton"></div> </div> <div class="progress-container"><div class="progress-bar" id="myBar"><span class="progress-icon"></span></div></div> <script> function toggleMenu() { var menu = document.getElementById("one"); menu.classList.toggle("closed") } function closeMenu() { var menu = document.getElementById("one"); menu.classList.add("closed") } function openMenu() { var menu = document.getElementById("one"); menu.classList.remove("closed") } $("#story").click(function() { closeMenu() }); $("#one").click(function(event) { event.stopPropagation(); }); </script>

<<include "variables_global">> <<include "variables_MC">> <<include "variables_social">> <<include "variables_inventory">> <<include "variables_other">> <<include "variables_quests">> <<include "variables_squad">> <<include "variables_cards">> <<include "variables_prologue">> <<include "variables_chapter1">> <<include "variables_chapter2">> <<include "variables_chapter3">> <<include "variables_chapter4">> <<include "variables_chapter5">> <<include "variables_chapter6">> <<include "variables_chapter7">> <<include "variables_chapter8">> <<include "variables_chapter9">> <<include "variables_maps">> <<include "variables_dialogues">> <<include "statbars">> <<include "hotkeys">> <<include "music">> <<preload 'assets/images/ui/main_menu/coverimage.jpg', 'assets/images/ui/game_art/logos/darkshohlogo.jpg', 'assets/images/ui/game_art/logos/loadscreen_logo.gif', 'assets/images/ui/game_art/logos/studiologo.png', 'assets/images/ui/game_art/logos/menu_logo.png', 'assets/images/ui/textures/journal/3.png', 'assets/images/ui/textures/torn_paper/officialscroll.png', 'assets/images/ui/textures/torn_paper/casualletter.png', 'assets/images/ui/textures/torn_paper/edge_0017_t.png', 'assets/images/ui/game_art/small_frames/popupmenu.png', 'assets/images/ui/game_art/maps/havenmap.jpg', 'assets/images/ui/game_art/maps/haven_map_smaller.jpg', 'assets/images/ui/game_art/maps/mapsbackground.jpg', 'assets/images/ui/game_art/maps/mapsbackground2.jpg', 'assets/images/ui/game_art/maps/worldmap.jpg', 'assets/images/ui/game_art/maps/compoundmap.jpg', 'assets/images/ui/backgrounds/background1.png', 'assets/images/ui/backgrounds/background2.png'>>

<<set $unopenedpack to 0>> <<set $totalspecialcards to 0>> <<set $tradingcardshave to 0>> <<set $cardintro to false>> <<set $album to false>> <<set $bladetradingcard to false>> <<set $troubletradingcard to false>> <<set $tallystradingcard to false>> <<set $sherytradingcard to false>> <<set $mctradingcard to false>> <<set $rieltradingcard to false>> <<set $aerintradingcard to false>> <<set $chasetradingcard to false>> <<set $katotradingcard to false>> <<set $aritradingcard to false>> <<set $redtradingcard to false>> <<set $neontradingcard to false>> <<set $pantradingcard to false>> <<set $aylatradingcard to false>> <<set $halektradingcard to false>> <<set $brionytradingcard to false>> <<set $stagheadtradingcard to false>> <<set $mountainjackaltradingcard to false>> <<set $lavinettradingcard to false>> <<set $mimirtradingcard to false>> <<set $vivektradingcard to false>> <<set $chandrytradingcard to false>> <<set $croelletradingcard to false>> <<set $prihinetradingcard to false>> <<set $autarchtradingcard to false>>

/* ------------------------ GLOBAL ------------------------ */ <<set $part to 0>> <<set $progress to 0>> <<set $democomplete to false>> /* ------------------------ NEW GAME PLUS ------------------------ */ <<set $newgameplus to false>> <<set $easymode to false>> <<set $ngplus to "">> <<set $geb to false>> <<set $rubberchicken to false>> <<set $geborkermit to false>> <<set $stupid to false>> <<set $meme to false>> <<set $stoneofpower to false>> <<set $stoneoffriendship to false>> <<set $stoneofwealth to false>>

<<set $inventory to true>> <<set $empty to true>> <<set $possess_sword to false>> <<set $basicsword to false>> <<set $standardsword to false>> <<set $premiumsword to false>> <<set $legendarysword to false>> <<set $possess_dagger to false>> <<set $basicdagger to false>> <<set $standarddagger to false>> <<set $premiumdagger to false>> <<set $legendarydagger to false>> <<set $possess_bow to false>> <<set $basicbow to false>> <<set $standardbow to false>> <<set $premiumbow to false>> <<set $legendarybow to false>> <<set $possess_gun to false>> <<set $basicgun to false>> <<set $standardgun to false>> <<set $premiumgun to false>> <<set $legendarygun to false>> <<set $cloak to false>> <<set $medallion to false>> <<set $healthpotion to false>> <<set $healthpotionnumber to 0>> <<set $bracers to false>> <<set $greaves to false>> <<set $pauldron to 0>> <<set $lantern to false>> <<set $rope to false>> <<set $lockpick to false>> <<set $glovesofstrength to false>> <<set $beltofcourage to false>> <<set $broochofcunning to false>> <<set $ringofcharisma to false>> <<set $circletofintelligence to false>> <<set $amuletofmagic to false>> <<set $goggles to false>> <<set $clasp to false>> <<set $claspp to "">> <<set $clasppp to "">> <<set $ringmetal to "">> <<set $ringsymbol to "">> <<set $ringinscription to "">> <<set $ringfinger to "">> <<set $poesyring to false>> <<set $theirring to "">> <<set $outfit to "">> <<set $outfitcolor to "">> <<set $outfitstyle to "">> <<set $outfitadd to "">> <<set $outfitaddyn to false>> <<set $outfita to "">> <<set $formalwear2 to "">> <<set $formalwear3 to "">> <<set $formalwear4 to "">> <<set $bladegift to false>> <<set $tallysgift to false>> <<set $sherygift to false>> <<set $troublegift to false>> <<set $chasegift to false>> <<set $rielgift to false>> <<set $aylagift to false>> <<set $redgift to false>> <<set $halekgift to false>> <<set $lavinetgift to false>> <<set $brionygift to false>> <<set $falsegift to false>> <<set $flowergift to false>> <<set $flowernumber to 0>> <<set $flowercolor to "">> <<set $purchasedbladegift to false>> <<set $purchasedtallysgift to false>> <<set $purchasedsherygift to false>> <<set $purchasedtroublegift to false>> <<set $purchasedchasegift to false>> <<set $purchasedrielgift to false>> <<set $purchasedaylagift to false>> <<set $purchasedredgift to false>> <<set $purchasedhalekgift to false>> <<set $purchasedlavinetgift to false>> <<set $purchasedbrionygift to false>> <<set $purchasedfalsegift to false>> <<set $charch to false>> <<set $pipe to false>> <<set $cigarette to false>> <<set $roomvisit to 0>> <<set $fish to false>> <<set $feesh to "">> <<set $feedfish to 0>> <<set $fishhe to "">> <<set $fishher to "">> <<set $plants to false>> <<set $cat to false>> <<set $cattime to 0>> <<set $cathe to "">> <<set $petname to "">> <<set $stuffedjester to false>> <<set $stuffedbear to false>> <<set $stuffedrabbit to false>> <<set $musicbox to false>> <<set $strongmangold to false>> <<set $pocketbook to false>> <<set $watered to 0>> <<set $walls to "">> <<set $rug to "a plain, threadbare rug">> <<set $picgroup to false>> <<set $picrecruits to false>> <<set $shelfstuffy1 to false>> <<set $shelfstuffy2 to false>> <<set $shelfstuffy3 to false>> <<set $shelfmusicbox to false>> <<set $shelfmask to false>> <<set $shelfcaprareplica to false>> <<set $shelfcaprawatch to false>> <<set $shelfcapraflowers to false>> <<set $shelfgate to false>> <<set $shelfnightshade to false>> <<set $shelfleonicrose to false>> <<set $shelfhyacinthe to false>> <<set $shelfhethmacoll to false>> <<set $shelfsamona to false>> <<set $shelfperfume to false>> <<set $shelflockwood to false>> <<set $shelfpicgroup to false>> <<set $shelfpicrecruits to false>> <<set $shelfstrongmangold to false>> <<set $operaposter to false>> <<set $whabh to false>> <<set $rangersposter to false>> <<set $clumsyposter to false>> <<set $clownpainting to false>> <<set $romanticpainting to false>> <<set $serenepainting to false>> <<set $stormypainting to false>> <<set $desertpainting to false>> <<set $abstractpainting to false>> <<set $muraloldfaith to false>> <<set $muralonegod to false>> <<set $deadhead to false>> <<set $cutlass to false>> <<set $elfpainting to false>> <<set $hunterpainting to false>> <<set $ketpainting to false>> <<set $normpainting to false>> <<set $exoticrug to false>> <<set $wovenrug to false>> <<set $furrug to false>> <<set $shaggyrug to false>> <<set $lacerug to false>> <<set $floweryrug to false>> <<set $yellowrug to false>> <<set $greenrug to false>> <<set $searug to false>> <<set $bluerug to false>> <<set $purplerug to false>> <<set $blackrug to false>>

/* for content of popups you can write HTML directly there. But if you want them to load dynamic twee content (i.e. depending on variables), then you can now add the content_type="load_passage" parameter, where what you put in content is that passage's name to load. And then you simply control the content loaded passage. For example, for two examples I've moved the content to the map_popups.twee file !!!IMPORTANT: Potentially, by creating 10s/100s of passages like this, that MIGHT have some performance implications. So just a note on that to ideally not overuse this. But if that ever becomes a problem, apparantely instead using widgets with some switch conditions could also be a more performant option. */ <<set $mapConfigs to { world_map_fullscreen: { map_img_src: 'assets/images/ui/game_art/maps/worldmap.jpg', defaultZoomSize: 0.5, interest_points: [ {id: 0, pos: {x: 0.038, y: 0.529}, tag: 'lindell', title: 'Lindell', content: 'A remote Norm city considered to be the westernmost major outpost of the Autarchy. It is infamous for its groundbreaking technological advancements. Many Norm physickers are trained here, and the world\'s first aircraft is currently being prototyped in Lindell.'}, {id: 1, pos: {x: 0.063, y: 0.286}, tag: 'jalis', title: 'Jalis', content: 'A hot, arid, untamed land that has been barely explored by mapmakers or historians, featuring rugged canyons, vast seas of sand dunes, and even underground rivers. While there are some organized settlements, many straggling tribes live in hive-like caves in the Jalis hills. Recent years have seen this area as an active warzone between multiple warlords vying for power; however, it has most recently been united in a loose collection of settlements known as "the Jalis Lugalate." The lugalate, however, is not recognized as a legitimate government by the Autarchy.'}, {id: 2, pos: {x: 0.145, y: 0.886}, width: "20px", height: "20px", tag: 'myrros', title: 'Mirror Sea', content: 'Also known as the Myrros Sea, it\'s called the Mirror Sea for its extremely calm, flat, and crystal-clear waters. However, sailing south of it leads to an area of incredibly turbulent weather and strange vortexes that are impossible to predict, called the Nysos Sea. Further south of that is the Dyer Oth Sea, which no one has ever managed to cross.'}, {id: 3, pos: {x: 0.1925, y: 0.55}, tag: 'kaikura', title: 'Kaikura', content: 'An outpost of Ket mercenaries that divorced themselves from the main Ket city-states, refusing to abide by their sacred Code of War. The population of Kaikura actually joined forces with the Autarchy during the Castigation, leasing out their military services in the war against the Gifted. As a result, they are largely left alone by the Inquisitors and are granted more lateral freedom than most—but they are also shunned and reviled by other Diminished.'}, {id: 4, pos: {x: 0.228, y: 0.9}, tag: 'sesz', title: 'Sesz Isles', content: 'A hot and humid island nation, this is where off-world imports like khav are grown—making the tiny kingdom so incredibly prosperous that even the Autarchy won\'t bother it. Its aristocracy is famed for its decadence and extravagance; however, many travelers still avoid the country, as slavery is still a commonplace practice there.'}, {id: 5, pos: {x: 0.222, y: 0.762}, tag: 'leyholm', title: 'Leyholm', content: 'A prosperous and bustling mercantile town, Leyholm is the only place where traders can pick up their imports of Sesz goods, meaning many trade routes start or end there. Leyholm is famous for its textiles and colorful dyes.'}, {id: 6, pos: {x: 0.256, y: 0.6}, tag: 'kinley', title: 'Kinley', content: "kinley_description", content_type: "load_passage"}, {id: 7, pos: {x: 0.274, y: 0.466}, tag: 'orlop', title: 'Orlop', content: 'A city famous for its breweries and woodworking. Orlop was once the capital of a Norm kingdom that rivaled the Kingdom of Kinley, encompassing all other nearby cities in complex political alliances. In those days they went by different names, and Norms who are descended from the settlers of Orlop are referred to as Guilder Norms, while Norms who are descended from the settlers of Kinley are called Hanish Norms.'}, {id: 8, pos: {x: 0.3665, y: 0.512}, tag: 'brunen', title: 'Brunen', content: 'A thriving Norm city considered to be the first gateway to the West by Easterners. This is where Prihine Naveen is from, and where you first started your journey.'}, {id: 9, pos: {x: 0.256, y: 0.393}, tag: 'heth_macoll', title: 'Heth Macoll', content: 'A cutthroat settlement full of vicious mercenaries and raiders. The city is surrounded by dunes of strange red sand and rests at the bottom of a valley long gone dry, giving it the famous appearance of sitting in a vast bowl of blood. The place is well known for holding gladiator tournaments between kidnapped victims and slaves.'}, {id: 10, pos: {x: 0.53, y: 0.28}, tag: 'korgoth', title: 'Korgoth', content: 'A desolate settlement of merchants and pioneers foolhardy enough to brave the freezing cold. Their way of life tends to verge on lawless, but their city remains an important hub of trade in the North.'}, {id: 11, pos: {x: 0.485, y: 0.56}, tag: 'capra', title: 'Capra', content: 'The sister-city of Caprona: the cities were founded by two Mage twins. Capra is known for its bustling trade and mechanical engineering, as well as its grandiose industrial architecture. The (heavily-regulated) production of magical artifacts, tools, and weapons takes place primarily here, with Mages working in mass workshops to bind magical energies to everyday objects for use.'}, {id: 12, pos: {x: 0.377, y: 0.31}, tag: 'citadel', title: 'The Citadel', content: 'A ruinous, twisted, hive-like tower sits within the cradle of a dead volcano somewhere in the Waste. No one knows how it got there or who built it: only that strange, blood-haired, murderous people live within...'}, {id: 13, pos: {x: 0.270, y: 0.31}, width: "20px", height: "20px", tag: 'waste', title: 'The Waste', content: 'A desolate wasteland covered by volcanic ash. Everything is grey and lifeless: few things can survive here, and strange, terrible creatures who roam the land at night ensure that the place remains unexplored. It is rumored that the mutated offspring of Endarkened linger here.'}, {id: 14, pos: {x: 0.370, y: 0.17}, tag: 'sarva', title: 'Sarva', content: 'A cold, wild, desolate place. The people here are said to be cannibals.'}, {id: 15, pos: {x: 0.293, y: 0.063}, tag: 'vim', title: 'Vim', content: 'It is theorized that the Asteriae, the now-mythical winged people of the past, may have based their first floating city here; they may have left after Vim\'s largest volcano erupted, poisoning the air. However, this is just one theory among many regarding their existence, nature, and later disappearance.'}, {id: 16, pos: {x: 0.45, y: 0.273}, width: "20px", height: "20px", tag: 'realmofghosts', title: 'The Realm-of-Ghosts', content: 'A strange, misty place haunted by bizarre and mysterious creatures. Very little is known about it.'}, {id: 17, pos: {x: 0.06, y: 0.673}, width: "20px", height: "20px", tag: 'westwood', title: 'Westwood', content: "westwood_description", content_type: "load_passage"}, {id: 18, pos: {x: 0.436, y: 0.383}, width: "20px", height: "20px", tag: 'shieldpeaks', title: 'The Shield Peaks', content: 'The Shield Peaks split the Continent roughly in half. The birth of civilization seemed to have taken place in the East; over time, the population spread outward, and almost everything West of the mountains was claimed by the prodigious Norms.'}, {id: 19, pos: {x: 0.477, y: 0.38}, width: "20px", height: "20px", tag: 'ghoulfens', title: 'Ghoulfens', content: 'A chilling swampland full of nightmarish creatures and strange, ghostly lights waiting to lure travelers to their death. The trees here are so thick that sunlight and moonlight can\'t penetrate them, casting the Ghoulfens in perpetual shadow. It\'s rumored there are more bones lying at the bottom of the fens than fish.'}, {id: 20, pos: {x: 0.45, y: 0.453}, tag: 'reach', title: 'The Reach', content: 'The ancestral home of the Hunters, sometimes referred to as Uth Baryd (from the old Hunter tongue). A secretive place nestled in the high, snowy mountains of the Shield Peaks, this is still the seat of Hunter civilization: the Reach houses the Hunters\' largest military stronghold, their sacred libraries, and the secrets of their exorcist arts. Because the Hunter people were sent into exile after leading a revolt in Haven, few outside of their trusted allies and the agents of the Autarchy know how to find their capital.'}, {id: 21, pos: {x: 0.46, y: 0.51}, tag: 'bleakmoor', width: "20px", height: "20px", title: 'Bleakmoor Marshes', content: "bleakmoor_description", content_type: "load_passage"}, {id: 22, pos: {x: 0.431, y: 0.633}, width: "20px", height: "20px", tag: 'blastedheath', title: 'The Blasted Heath', content: 'A rocky region filled with steep canyons, plunging inclines and cliffs, and sharp, impassable mountain peaks. It was the last known breeding ground of the dragons, or Drakes, before they presumably went extinct. The area is still filled with dangerous animals and wyverns, lesser cousins to the Drakes.'}, {id: 23, pos: {x: 0.405, y: 0.757}, width: "20px", height: "20px", tag: 'maj', title: 'Maj', content: "maj_description", content_type: "load_passage"}, {id: 24, pos: {x: 0.384, y: 0.8}, width: "20px", height: "20px", tag: 'heroesavenue', title: 'Heroes Avenue', content: 'At one of the starting places in the Old King\'s Road, there lies an ancient highway lined with enormous, titanic statues of great heroes of the past. It used to be every child\'s dream to have their likeness placed along the Heroes Avenue. However, a new statue hasn\'t been added in quite some time.'}, {id: 25, pos: {x: 0.411, y: 0.95}, tag: 'elinden', title: 'Elinden', content: 'An isle of stark and wild beauty, Elinden is occupied and warred over by four rival factions of Diminished. Here, a piece of life from before the Autarchy is preserved... but with it comes rampant magic and superpowered conflict. Currently the isle is claimed and ruled by a ruthless warlord, a Mage-king called the Lightning Cutter.'}, {id: 26, pos: {x: 0.638, y: 0.981}, tag: 'ivoryisles', title: 'Ivory Isles', content: 'A small chain of islands famed for being the ideal vacation spot, especially for wealthy tourists and nobles. Known for its pure white sands and a diverse population of exotic animals.'}, {id: 27, pos: {x: 0.593, y: 0.923}, tag: 'courtshore', title: 'Courtshore', content: 'A lovely seaside city, home to many resorts and a favorite of summering nobles. Said to be the frontier of new styles and fashion trends.'}, {id: 28, pos: {x: 0.581, y: 0.803}, width: "20px", height: "20px", tag: 'southerncrescent', title: 'The Southern Crescent', content: 'Also known as the Fertile Crescent, this swathe of land sweeps from Maj to the Banteen Coast, encompassing Leore, Courtshore, Conte, Sion, Torsari, Drummond\'s Point, and everything in between. A temperate region of mild weather, bright, sunny days, and lush, vibrant crops, it never sees snow, though it only becomes truly tropical in the islands to the south.'}, {id: 29, pos: {x: 0.619, y: 0.793}, tag: 'sion', title: 'Sion', content: 'At several points in history, it was a hotly-contested city during conflicts and wars between Ket and Mages. Although first founded as a Mage city, it has swapped governments so many times that no one quite knows how to define it, with both cultures claiming the city as an important site in their histories. By the time the Castigation occurred, it was last held by the Ket.'}, {id: 30, pos: {x: 0.693, y: 0.85}, tag: 'conte', title: 'Conte', content: 'More formally known as "Conte-by-the-Sea," this is a portside town that serves both as a lively tourist spot and a hotbed of corsair activity. Gambling, rich food and drink, and constant festivities are abundant. Newcomers should take care to watch their pockets, however, because the cutpurses here rival the Thieves Guild in Haven.'}, {id: 31, pos: {x: 0.854, y: 0.933}, width: "20px", height: "20px", tag: 'drummondspoint', title: 'Drummond\'s Point', content: "drummondspoint_description", content_type: "load_passage"}, {id: 32, pos: {x: 0.5735, y: 0.72}, tag: 'shyrduin', title: 'Shyrduin', content: 'One of the great Elven capitals of the Continent, it was the seat of power in Frostwood and was famous for its legendary lakes and ethereal architecture. Legend had it that the city was once filled with trees crafted from white gold, heavy with crystalline blue leaves that shone with diamond dew drops.'}, {id: 33, pos: {x: 0.552, y: 0.693}, width: "20px", height: "20px", tag: 'frostwood', title: 'Frostwood', content: 'The Frostwood is said to have trees with silver bark and pale blue leaves hidden deep inside its depths, from which a powerful magical wood can be obtained.'}, {id: 34, pos: {x: 0.658, y: 0.68}, tag: 'ambryn', title: 'Ambryn', content: 'Ambryn is the second-largest city in Blest and one of the few metropolises to house a healthy mix of all Diminished races as well as Norms. Known as "the breadbasket of the East," it is an agricultural and industrial stronghold, being positioned on vast tracts of golden plains, fields, and the farms of the heartland. It is famous for its stately red brick architecture in contrast to Haven\'s complicated white stone designs.'}, {id: 35, pos: {x: 0.759, y: 0.686}, width: "20px", height: "20px", tag: 'vale', title: 'Vale', content: "vale_description", content_type: "load_passage"}, {id: 36, pos: {x: 0.813, y: 0.707}, tag: 'carnbarad', title: 'Carnbarad', content: 'The only major Elven city to not be sheltered within a forest, Carnbarad is perched on high cliffs by the sea. In contrast to their sylvan cousins, the Elves of Carnbarad possess silvery or pale hair, blue eyes, and seem to speak a different dialect of Elvish, following a very different set of traditions and cultural beliefs than the Elves of the rest of the Continent. Whereas Elves from Frostwood or Thielwood are more dignified and sedate, Elves from Carnbarad tend to be freer with their emotions and are extremely passionate; they love to laugh and celebrate.'}, {id: 37, pos: {x: 0.505, y: 0.606}, tag: 'caprona', title: 'Caprona', content: 'The sister-city of Capra: both cities were founded by two Mage twins. Caprona is known for its love of the arts and is a considered a sanctuary for poets, artists, and bards. It sports romantic, ornate architecture bursting with colors and flowers. Its world-famous floating gardens escaped the destruction of the Castigation.'}, {id: 38, pos: {x: 0.922, y: 0.56}, width: "20px", height: "20px", tag: 'banteen', title: 'Banteen Sea', content: 'The Banteen Sea is also called "the Sea of Plenty" and is known for its favorable weather, clear and peaceful waters, and abundant fishing. Somewhere along its coastline is a barrier reef rumored to be the last place the water Elementals, the Undine, were seen by sailors centuries ago.'}, {id: 39, pos: {x: 0.53, y: 0.48}, width: "20px", height: "20px", tag: 'lockwood', title: 'Lockwood', content: 'Originally named Falkirk at its founding, this is a small benefice or fief ruled by the Naveen family. Settled and maintained mostly by Norm hunters, farmers, and traders.'}, {id: 40, pos: {x: 0.577, y: 0.436}, tag: 'ygrath', title: 'Ygrath', content: 'One of the most powerful Ket city-states in its heyday, Ygrath seems to lie deserted and abandoned after being one of the last cities to fall during the Castigation. However, some whisper that its citizens still live in the mountains high above the city in secret, keeping the ways of their culture alive...'}, {id: 41, pos: {x: 0.627, y: 0.49}, width: "20px", height: "20px", tag: 'fortlagann', title: 'Fort Lagann', content: 'A strange stone monument towers here, a curved ivory-like rock formation that looks like a giant\'s rib. Fort Lagann, the site of countless famous battles over the centuries, is also stationed here.'}, {id: 42, pos: {x: 0.64, y: 0.41}, tag: 'sylfaen', title: 'Sylfaen', content: 'The former grand capital of the Elves, this city was shrouded by their labyrinthine "small magics" and served as a gathering ground for their tribes and clans during times of war, council, or celebration. The many houses of the most powerful noble families as well as the palace of ancient Elven monarchs also resided here. It lies mostly empty now.'}, {id: 43, pos: {x: 0.688, y: 0.506}, width: "20px", height: "20px", tag: 'damba', title: 'Damba Plains', content: 'A vast, golden savannah that stretches from the Shield Peaks east of Capra all the way to the Banteen coast. It is a popular trade route for caravans and is populated by as many nomadic wanderers as it is by prosperous central settlements.'}, {id: 44, pos: {x: 0.731, y: 0.466}, tag: 'chicora', title: 'Chicora', content: 'Formerly one of the greatest Ket city-states, Chicora was variously Ygrath\'s greatest ally and its most dangerous enemy at various times in its history. While Ygrath\'s Ket were renowned for their deadly abilities in espionage, subterfuge, and assassination, Chicora was known for producing excellent soldiers, bodyguards, and an overall robust military force.'}, {id: 45, pos: {x: 0.715, y: 0.353}, width: "20px", height: "20px", tag: 'thielwood', title: 'Thielwood', content: 'Thielwood comes from the Old Common word for "the Elder Wood." It is an ancient, primal forest that covers a fourth of the Eastern Continent. It is said to be the birthplace and cradle of the first civilizations and the place where the Children of Light were first formed. Along with the many ancient cities it shelters, its depths are said to be the hiding place of the Woken Beasts: titanic, talking animals who never show themselves to the outside world.'}, {id: 46, pos: {x: 0.845, y: 0.366}, tag: 'calta', title: 'Calta', content: 'A great Mage city tucked into a bay and surrounded by enormous golden cliffs, Calta was famously impenetrable by invaders: there was only one road into the city by land, and the only way to reach it by sea was through the bay. When danger threatened the city, the Mages inside would close the cliffs together, sealing themselves off from outside invasion.'}, {id: 47, pos: {x: 0.628, y: 0.266}, tag: 'luxue', title: 'Luxue', content: 'A settlement of Ket in the far, frozen North. Although most Ket city-states are united by similar cultural traditions and an ancient agreement called the Code of War, the Ket of Luxue notably renounced those ties and have developed their own brutal culture independently of the rest of Ket society. It\'s said the city may have even been founded by Ket outcasts, exiles, and criminals.'}, {id: 48, pos: {x: 0.838, y: 0.253}, tag: 'karzai', title: 'Karzai', content: 'An isolated city in the snow-bound North. The settlement is comprised of the descendants of dark Mages and Sorcerers who fled persecution for their forbidden arts. Although some will risk the journey to trade with Karzai for magical contraband, it is considered by most to be an evil, lawless place.'}, {id: 49, pos: {x: 0.834, y: 0.04}, width: "20px", height: "20px", tag: 'eyeoftheworld', title: 'The Eye of the World', content: 'The northernmost part of the known world. It houses the Continent\'s tallest peak, the tip of which is said to be the resting place of the old gods. No one can determine this, however, because no one has ever survived the climb.'}, {id: 50, pos: {x: 0.577, y: 0.146}, width: "20px", height: "20px", tag: 'skeletoncoast', title: 'The Skeleton Coast', content: 'A treacherous, bone-white coast lined with razor-sharp rocks that protrude from the water like ribs; it\'s known for sinking ships and for the bodies that sometimes wash up on the ghostly shore with the morning tide.'}, {id: 51, pos: {x: 0.597, y: 0.55}, tag: 'haven', title: 'Haven', content: 'Once a great Mage city known as Magus, Haven is now the seat of the Autarchy and the largest and most populous city on the Continent. It is considered the capital of Blest, and houses many seats of power, including the Autarch\'s Sun Court, the government houses of the Consortium, and the headquarters of the Shepherds. Positioned at the top of a vast plateau, it is a city known for its beautiful white stone streets and its famous five districts, stacked in orderly tiers, but centuries of rapid industrial growth and political turmoil have left it looking slightly battered. A sacred river is said to spring from the peak of the city, flowing down through its many canals and out into the surrounding fertile valley.'}, {id: 52, pos: {x: 0.493, y: 0.466}, width: "20px", height: "20px", tag: 'sacor', title: 'Sacor City', content: 'Located at the edge of Thielwood, this bustling city unexpectedly exploded to life seemingly overnight, rapidly growing to becoming one of the major political and trading hubs of the East. Because of its unprecedented growth, some older maps still do not have it officially marked.'}, ], }, haven_map_embedded: { extraClasses: 'haven-map', disableWheelZoom: true, setZoomToFillContainerSizeBy: 'width', map_img_src: 'assets/images/ui/game_art/maps/haven_map_smaller.jpg', interest_points: [ {id: 0, pos: {x: 0.152, y: 0.345}, tag: 'compound1', title: 'Shepherds\' Compound', content: "compound_description", content_type: "load_passage"}, {id: 1, pos: {x: 0.202, y: 0.328}, tag: 'compound2', title: 'Shepherds\' Yards', content: "compound_description2", content_type: "load_passage"}, {id: 2, pos: {x: 0.822, y: 0.554}, tag: 'shopping', title: 'Chandry\'s Ends and Oddities', content: "shop_description", content_type: "load_passage"}, {id: 3, pos: {x: 0.852, y: 0.715}, tag: 'gambling', title: 'The Golden Way', content: "gambling_description", content_type: "load_passage"}, {id: 4, pos: {x: 0.522, y: 0.854}, tag: 'parttime', title: 'Part-Time Work', content: "parttime_description", content_type: "load_passage"}, {id: 5, pos: {x: 0.56, y: 0.820}, tag: 'pray', title: 'Prayer', content: "pray_description", content_type: "load_passage"}, {id: 6, pos: {x: 0.194, y: 0.546}, tag: 'quest', title: 'Quest Board', content: "quest_description", content_type: "load_passage"}, {id: 7, pos: {x: 0.154, y: 0.299}, tag: 'companions_compound', title: 'Companions', content: "companions_compound", content_type: "load_passage"}, {id: 8, pos: {x: 0.116, y: 0.452}, tag: 'companions_ashtown', title: 'Companions', content: "companions_ashtown", content_type: "load_passage"}, {id: 9, pos: {x: 0.368, y: 0.373}, tag: 'companions_smoketown', title: 'Companions', content: "companions_smoketown", content_type: "load_passage"}, {id: 10, pos: {x: 0.52, y: 0.26}, tag: 'companions_market', title: 'Companions', content: "companions_market", content_type: "load_passage"}, {id: 11, pos: {x: 0.84, y: 0.268}, tag: 'companions_suncourt', title: 'Companions', content: "companions_suncourt", content_type: "load_passage"}, {id: 12, pos: {x: 0.85, y: 0.403}, tag: 'companions_whitestone', title: 'Companions', content: "companions_whitestone", content_type: "load_passage"}, ], holderDOMSelector: '.embedded_map_holder' }, fourthfloor_fullscreen: { map_img_src: 'assets/images/ui/game_art/maps/fourthfloor.png', defaultZoomSize: 0.25, interest_points: [ {id: 0, pos: {x: 0.177, y: 0.781}, tag: 'rielsroom', title: 'Riel\'s Room', content: 'Although Riel owns his own manor in Whitestone, he still keeps a room here to crash in when he\'s been working late into the night (which is often). His room is tastefully-furnished and extremely neat and symmetrical.'}, {id: 1, pos: {x: 0.25, y: 0.759}, tag: 'lavinetsroom', title: 'Lavinet\'s Room', content: 'She immediately hired an interior decorator to provide the room with sumptuous furnishings upon moving in. Stepping into it, you would never know this perfumed suite was part of a military barracks: it\'s filled with expensive loveseats and wardrobes and even features a canopy bed.'}, {id: 2, pos: {x: 0.379, y: 0.72}, tag: 'haleksroom', title: 'Halek\'s Room', content: 'It\'s a fairly simple and minimalist room: Halek didn\'t put much effort into customizing it. The bookshelf here is filled with cookbooks, though.'}, {id: 3, pos: {x: 0.468, y: 0.724}, tag: 'bath', title: 'Baths', content: 'Because the Tower was built hundreds of years ago, there are no showers, but large, dormitory-style communal baths on each residential floor. Each bath is the size of a swimming pool and can fit anywhere between six to a dozen people at a time, though many officers choose to bathe singly.'}, {id: 4, pos: {x: 0.618, y: 0.723}, tag: 'aylasroom', title: 'Ayla\'s Room', content: 'It\'s a bit messy and cramped, and the hearth is almost always burning to keep the temperature close to the desert levels that Ayla is used to. Notably, many of the drawers and shelves are filled with hoarded snacks that she\'s stashed away in case of emergencies.'}, {id: 5, pos: {x: 0.746, y: 0.756}, tag: 'tallysroom', title: 'Tallys\'s Room', content: 'Her room is almost overgrown with plants, herbs, and green things, resembling a cool, dim forest cottage that smells of various balms and tinctures. There\'s always the soothing sound of water trickling here, though you can never pinpoint exactly where it\'s coming from.'}, {id: 6, pos: {x: 0.824, y: 0.704}, tag: 'sherysroom', title: 'Shery\'s Room', content: 'It\'s widely agreed that Shery\'s room is the coziest, homiest place in the entire compound, filled with pastel colors and soft, plump furniture. She has a kitchenette for brewing tea or reading at the dining table, and a secretary\'s desk for getting extra paperwork done in comfort.'}, {id: 7, pos: {x: 0.727, y: 0.56}, tag: 'redsroom', title: 'Red\'s Room', content: 'He\'s always so busy toiling away in his workshop or poring over texts in the library that he only ever staggers here at unseemly hours to sleep. While fairly neat, the room is crammed with as many bookshelves and books as he could fit, some of them stacked in one or two man-sized piles.'}, {id: 8, pos: {x: 0.765, y: 0.467}, tag: 'bladesroom', title: 'Blade\'s Room', content: 'Because he\'s Commander, Blade actually keeps a suite of his own rooms on the first floor, not the fourth; the only way to access his private living area is through his office, so hardly anyone ever sees it. It\'s a spartan, sparse space, per the Khehi-Ket way.'}, {id: 9, pos: {x: 0.689, y: 0.642}, tag: 'brionysroom', title: 'Briony\'s Room', content: 'A bright and cheerful space, it\'s filled with mementos to remind her of her travels, past missions, or people she\'s met. Many of her decorations are sentimental rather than strictly aesthetic, but that lends the room an air of mismatched warmth. Gonturan hangs rather menacingly on a wall lined with Briony\'s own sketches and drawings.'}, {id: 10, pos: {x: 0.307, y: 0.639}, tag: 'troublesroom', title: 'Trouble\'s Room', content: 'A slightly messy room with a constantly-unmade bed, it always smells slightly of gunpowder and charch smoke from his constant tinkering at a workbench he\'s shoved in there. It\'s a bit warm and stuffy, but comfortable in its own well-worn way.'}, {id: 11, pos: {x: 0.269, y: 0.6}, tag: 'mimirsroom', title: 'Mimir\'s Room', content: 'It\'s never really been used or customized, since Mimir prefers sleeping in a tent in the one of the unused courtyards outside, finding close proximity to others too overwhelming for her psychic senses.'}, {id: 12, pos: {x: 0.283, y: 0.48}, tag: 'chasesroom', title: 'Chase\'s Room', content: 'This room resembles more of a dragon\'s hoard or magpie\'s nest than it does a living space, perhaps because its occupant so rarely sleeps in it. No one knows where Chase goes most nights, but it certainly doesn\'t seem to be this room, which he uses mainly as a storage space for his various trinkets, treasures, and stolen contraband. He did, however, spring for an enormous bed with satin sheets, in case he ever needs to impress a visitor...'}, {id: 13, pos: {x: 0.498, y: 0.304}, tag: 'recroom', title: 'Recreation Room', content: 'Many a wild off-duty night has been spent here, playing games, listening to other officers play live music, singing, dancing, debating, gambling, and—for some—getting spectacularly and blindingly drunk.'}, ], }, }; >>

/* ------------------------ MAIN CHARACTER ------------------------ */ <<set $firstname to "">> <<set $surname to "">> <<set $falsename to "">> <<set $falsesurname to "">> <<set $fullname to "">> <<set $nickname to "sunshine">> <<set $halfname to "recruit">> <<set $halfname2 to "">> <<set $callsign to "">> <<set $ilvos to false>> <<set $treefriend to false>> <<set $elffriend to false>> <<set $birthday to "">> <<set $gender to "">> <<set $she to "">> <<set $her to "">> <<set $hers to "">> <<set $them to "">> <<set $plural to false>> <<set $woman to "">> <<set $child to "">> <<set $sibling to "">> <<set $girl to "">> <<set $expression to "">> <<set $haircolor to "covered">> <<set $hairlength to "">> <<set $hairtype to "">> <<set $eyecolor to "glowing">> <<set $skincolor to "">> <<set $scars to false>> <<set $tattoos to false>> <<set $rings to false>> <<set $piercings to false>> <<set $appearance to "">> <<set $appearance2 to "">> <<set $appearance3 to "">> <<set $clothes to "dusty, travel-worn clothes">> <<set $attractedto to "">> <<set $ace to false>> <<set $aro to false>> <<set $aroace to false>> <<set $specialization to "">> <<set $specializationtitle to "">> <<set $obscura to "">> <<set $heritage to "">> <<set $education to "">> <<set $rank to "">> <<set $godspeaker to 7>> <<set $godspeakernumber to "">> <<set $gold to 10>> <<set $silver to 0>> <<set $health to 100>> <<set $defense to 0>> <<set $reputation to 20>> <<set $magic to 5>> <<set $arcane to 5>> <<set $psionic to 5>> <<set $astral to 5>> <<set $strength to 5>> <<set $mainweapon to "">> <<set $sword to 5>> <<set $gun to 5>> <<set $bow to 5>> <<set $dagger to 5>> <<set $courage to 0>> <<set $charisma to 0>> <<set $intelligence to 0>> <<set $cunning to 0>> <<set $good to 50>> <<set $loyal to 50>> <<set $compassionate to 50>> <<set $order to 50>> <<set $faith to 50>> <<set $belief to "">> <<set $god to "Hael">>

/*------------------------------ CODEX -------------------------------- */ <<set $codex to 0>> <<set $cacophant to false>> <<set $spiritsanddemons to false>> <<set $fashion to false>> <<set $forgottenpeoples to false>> <<set $havenmap to false>> <<set $needelvish to false>> <<set $blueprint1 to false>> <<set $amazotz to false>> <<set $bestiarycodex to false>> <<set $wyvern to false>> /*------------------------------ OTHER -------------------------------- */ <<set $army to 0>> <<set $resources to 0>> <<set $shepherdgold to 500>> <<set $numberofshepherds to 4>> <<set $defenses to false>> <<set $blaphemeldead to false>> <<set $clochusdead to false>> <<set $quiialdead to false>> <<set $buubasdead to false>> <<set $jarkythdead to false>> <<set $facelesslordsdead to 0>> <<set $numberoffacelesslordsdead to "">> <<set $demonarmy to 50>> <<set $commander to false>> <<set $cantbecommander to 0>> <<set $healer to false>> <<set $benir to false>> <<set $benirsabotage to false>> /* if healer OR benir present, caine is saved during the raid (if recruited and alive); if benirsabotage true, he will have been stealing medical supplies to fund his black sun addiction and caine will die. */ <<set $familiar to "">> <<set $lockpickingskill to 0>> <<set $arrest to false>> /*------------------------------ DAY OFF -------------------------------- */ <<set $dayoff to 0>> <<set $dayoffclock to 5>> <<set $extratime to false>> <<set $revisitshop to false>> <<set $seconddayoff to false>> <<set $visitingdayofffirsttime to false>> <<set $bladespent to false>> <<set $troublespent to false>> <<set $tallysspent to false>> <<set $sheryspent to false>> <<set $chasespent to false>> <<set $rielspent to false>> <<set $halekspent to false>> <<set $redspent to false>> <<set $aylaspent to false>> <<set $lavinetspent to false>> <<set $brionyspent to false>> <<set $cainespent to false>> <<set $mimirspent to false>> <<set $chandry to 0>> <<set $shopvisit to 0>> <<set $weaponprice to 100>> <<set $giftprice to 50>> <<set $healthpotionprice to 30>> <<set $buy_hp to 0>> <<set $salespotionprice to 0>> <<set $buy_flowers to 0>> <<set $flowerprice to 0>> <<set $churchvisit to 0>> <<set $templevisit to 0>> <<set $commandtime to 0>> <<set $newspaper to 0>> <<set $timegambling to 0>> <<set $gambling to false>> <<set $queststart to false>> <<set $questtime to 0>> <<set $spirittime to 0>> <<set $cainefight to false>> <<set $caineweapon to "Penny Knife">> <<set $bladedayoff to false>> <<set $tallysdayoff to false>> <<set $troubledayoff to false>> <<set $sherydayoff to false>> <<set $rieldayoff to false>> <<set $chasedayoff to false>> <<set $halekdayoff to false>> <<set $reddayoff to false>> <<set $ayladayoff to false>> <<set $lavinetdayoff to false>> <<set $brionydayoff to false>> <<set $newspaperspent to false>> <<set $roomspent to false>> <<set $shopspent to false>> <<set $recruitspent to false>> <<set $commanderspent to false>> <<set $strengthspent to false>> <<set $magicspent to false>> <<set $strengthtime to 0>> <<set $magictime to 0>> <<set $parttimespent to false>> <<set $questspent to false>> <<set $gamblingspent to false>> <<set $prayspent to false>>

/*------------------------------ QUESTS -------------------------------- */ /* By Andraz -> I see that these quests are still not really implemented, so I suggest to change them to an object structure for easier manipulation Additional note: I could make accepting & Dealing out quest rewards a dynamic JS widget too (i.e. if there's a bunch of diff & same type rewards), but if you can do that yourself manually without too much work, then you can i.e. just describe them here via text/HTML in any way you want */ <<set $jobs to { baker: { is_accepted: false, is_completed: false, title: "Sugar-Coated", desc: "I'm having trouble selling my baked goods to a certain shop in Whitestone. If someone could offer their assistance in this matter, I'd be glad to pay them for their time. - Cassidia Tygrova", rewards: "30 GOLD, SILVER TONGUE, RAZOR WITS" }, fakepartner: { is_accepted: false, is_completed: false, title: "The Masquerade", desc: "This is rightly pathetic, but I need a convincing actor to pretend to be my romantic partner at a party. You will need to go along with whatever schemes and lies I embroil you in. Sorry. Details upon meeting.", rewards: "20 GOLD, SILVER TONGUE, NERVES OF STEEL" }, lucius: { is_accepted: false, is_completed: false, title: "The Heist", desc: "Need someone to steal something. If interested, leave a chalk mark on the wall next to this board. You'll be contacted if deemed suitable for the job.", rewards: "100 GOLD, RAZOR WITS, WILL OF IRON" }, godfather: { is_accepted: false, is_completed: false, title: "Muckrakers", desc: "Seeking a person who has experience tailing others without being noticed. Nothing illegal or immoral, but you will need courage.", rewards: "50 GOLD, NERVES OF STEEL, RAZOR WITS" }, thespian: { is_accepted: false, is_completed: false, title: "Theatre Research", desc: "HERO REQUIRED. THESPIAN wishing to observe and shadow a HERO for a day (or several!!! who am I to predict the tides of THEATRE?) in order to better EMBODY said hero and heroism and heroic deeds in future PERFORMANCES.", rewards: "<<if $album is false>> 50 GOLD, POTENTIAL DISCOUNTS AT CHANDRY'S BENDS AND BODDITIES <<else>> 50 GOLD, RANGERS OF BLEST CARD #88, POTENTIAL DISCOUNTS AT CHANDRY'S BENDS AND BODDITIES<</if>>" }, riddlemaster1: { is_accepted: false, is_completed: false, title: "The Riddle-Master of Ashtown", desc: "The Riddle-Master of Ashtown seeks challengers. Can you defeat him in a clash of obscure facts and riddles, knowledge and wits?", rewards: "50 GOLD, BRIGHT MIND, REPUTATION" }, weaponsmasterhirai: { is_accepted: false, is_completed: false, title: "Weapons-Master Hirai", desc: "Although he has not forged a new weapon in several years, Master Hirai is a legendary blacksmith and weapons-master renowned across the land. If you can show Master Hirai a weapon that will inspire him to craft again, you will be rewarded handsomely.", rewards: "100 DEUCALIONS, <<print $mainweapon.toUpperCase()>> SKILL" }, bravelittlebunny: { is_accepted: false, is_completed: false, title: "The Brave Little Bunny", desc: "Please help me find a toy I lost. It's really important and it's not mine. I think my dog carried it off? Anyway, I don't got much money or nothing but I'll give you a really rare card I got! Please help!!! - Caine Tavadon", rewards: "1 GOLD, RANGERS OF BLEST CARD #5" }, puppylove: { is_accepted: false, is_completed: false, title: "Puppy Love", desc: "I need help delivering a love letter... cuz I'm not brave enough to do it myself! Help!", rewards: "1 GOLD, RANGERS OF BLEST CARD #10" }, twintelepathy: { is_accepted: false, is_completed: false, title: "Twin Telepathy", desc: "My sister says she can read my thoughts even from far away! I don't believe her. Could someone please help us figure this out?", rewards: "RANGERS OF BLEST CARD #3, BRIGHT MIND" }, bladejoy: { is_accepted: false, is_completed: false, title: "A Pleasant Distraction", desc: "Our captain is so strict (on both us and himself) that we're afraid he's going to give himself a heart attack. We will literally pay you to take him out for a day and force him to relax.", rewards: "20 GOLD" }, }>> <<set $quests to { helpvivek: { is_accepted: false, is_completed: false, title: "Help Vivek", desc: "That nasty gargoyle Vivek has been terrorizing the Order for too long. We can't remove it, but we sure can placate it. Can't anyone find out what happened to its previous master, Archmage Tangriel? I bet that will take the fang out of that serpent's—spirit's… bite.", rewards: "30 GOLD, HEART OF GOLD" }, flower_collection: { is_accepted: false, is_completed: false, title: "The Bloom of Life", desc: "I am a florist who has recently been confined to my home. I long to see exotic blooms and complete my sketchbook of flowers. Won't you please show me the flowers you collect along your travels? I will pay you what I can if you bring me what I seek.", rewards: "50 GOLD, HEART OF GOLD" }, toycollector: { is_accepted: false, is_completed: false, title: "The Collector", desc: "Looking for a well-traveled person to help collect certain items of interest. For more details, please contact Shery Acquell, Quartermaster of the Shepherds.", rewards: "100 GOLD, BRIGHT MIND, MAGIC" }, }>> <<set $visitingquestsfirsttime to false>> <<set $riddlemasteratry to 0>> <<set $riddlemastera to false>> <<set $riddlemasterattempt to false>> <<set $twintry to false>> <<set $twinattempt to 0>> <<set $twinwin to false>> <<set $cainesucceed to false>> <<set $chandryquest to false>> <<set $flowercollection to 0>> <<set $leonicrose to false>> <<set $hyacinthe to false>>

/* ------------------------ RELATIONSHIPS ------------------------ */ <<set $highestfriendship to "">> <<set $highestromance to "no one">> <<set $highestromanceflag to "">> <<set $blade to 20>> <<set $trouble to 20>> <<set $tallys to 20>> <<set $shery to 20>> <<set $chase to 30>> <<set $riel to 30>> <<set $halek to 40>> <<set $red to 40>> <<set $ayla to 40>> <<set $lavinet to 40>> <<set $briony to 40>> <<set $croelle to 0>> <<set $mimir to 45>> <<set $numberofromances to 0>> <<set $bladeromance to false>> <<set $troubleromance to false>> <<set $tallysromance to false>> <<set $tallyssex to false>> <<set $sheryromance to false>> <<set $rielromance to false>> <<set $chaseromance to false>> <<set $chasesex to false>> <<set $redromance to false>> <<set $aylaromance to false>> <<set $lavinetromance to false>> <<set $prihineromance to false>> <<set $brionyromance to false>> <<set $bladeromanceflag to 0>> <<set $tallysromanceflag to 0>> <<set $troubleromanceflag to 0>> <<set $sheryromanceflag to 0>> <<set $rielromanceflag to 0>> <<set $chaseromanceflag to 0>> <<set $redromanceflag to 0>> <<set $aylaromanceflag to 0>> <<set $lavinetromanceflag to 0>> <<set $prihineromanceflag to 0>> <<set $brionyromanceflag to 0>> <<set $numberofhated to 0>> <<set $troublehate to false>> <<set $bladehate to false>> <<set $tallyshate to false>> <<set $sheryhate to false>> <<set $rielhate to false>> <<set $chasehate to false>> <<set $halekhate to false>> <<set $redhate to false>> <<set $aylahate to false>> <<set $lavinethate to false>> <<set $brionyhate to false>> <<set $mimirhate to false>> <<set $thievesjoin to false>> <<set $merchantsjoin to false>> <<set $circlemagejoin to false>> <<set $hunterjoin to false>> <<set $gladiatorjoin to false>> <<set $noblejoin to false>> <<set $elementaljoin to false>> <<set $elementalhalfjoin to false>> <<set $changelingjoin to false>> <<set $elfjoin to false>> <<set $courtketjoin to false>> <<set $courtmagejoin to false>> <<set $rebelketjoin to false>> <<set $elindenwarriorsjoin to false>> <<set $cainejoin to false>> <<set $rieljoin to false>> <<set $chasejoin to false>> <<set $halekjoin to false>> <<set $redjoin to false>> <<set $aylajoin to false>> <<set $lavinetjoin to false>> <<set $brionyjoin to false>> <<set $mimirjoin to false>> <<set $croellejoin to false>> /* ------------------------ SOCIAL ------------------------ */ <<set $bladetime to 0>> <<set $troubletime to 0>> <<set $tallystime to 0>> <<set $sherytime to 0>> <<set $chasetime to 0>> <<set $rieltime to 0>> <<set $halektime to 0>> <<set $redtime to 0>> <<set $aylatime to 0>> <<set $lavinettime to 0>> <<set $brionytime to 0>> <<set $cainetime to 0>> <<set $mimirtime to 0>> <<set $blade_selfhoodcurse to false>> <<set $blade_assassinationstop to false>> <<set $bladeharden to 0>> <<set $trouble_calmnoanger to false>> <<set $trouble_tolerancepolitics to false>> <<set $troubleharden to 0>> <<set $troubleinjury to false>> <<set $tallys_forgivenesslettinggo to false>> <<set $tallys_mortalitydealtwith to false>> <<set $tallysharden to 0>> <<set $shery_stronglion to false>> <<set $sheryharden to 0>> <<set $riel_historian to false>> <<set $riel_inventor to false>> <<set $riel_family to false>> <<set $riel_stay to false>> <<set $rielharden to 0>> <<set $chase_truststorypast to false>> <<set $chase_validatedworthymoral to false>> <<set $chaseharden to 0>> <<set $chaseread to false>> <<set $red_past to false>> <<set $red_future to false>> <<set $redharden to 0>> <<set $ayla_shepherdsfamily to false>> <<set $ayla_bloodfamily to false>> <<set $aylaharden to 0>> <<set $halek_messiah to false>> <<set $halek_free to false>> <<set $halekharden to 0>> <<set $lavinet_charity to false>> <<set $lavinet_politics to false>> <<set $lavinetharden to 0>> <<set $briony_memoriesregained to false>> <<set $briony_queen to false>> <<set $gonturanknow to false>> <<set $brionynotouch to false>> <<set $brionyjournal to false>> <<set $brionyharden to 0>> <<set $caineharden to false>> <<set $bladetrait1 to "stoic">> <<set $bladetrait2 to "enigmatic">> <<set $bladestatus to "His past is still a mystery to you.">> <<set $tallystrait1 to "cool">> <<set $tallystrait2 to "collected">> <<set $tallysstatus to "She's made her dislike of the Autarchy known to you.">> <<set $troubletrait1 to "hot-headed">> <<set $troubletrait2 to "compassionate">> <<set $troublestatus to "You still don't know his true name.">> <<set $sherytrait1 to "shy">> <<set $sherytrait2 to "kind">> <<set $sherystatus to "She seems hesitant to talk about herself.">> <<set $chasetrait1 to "cunning">> <<set $chasetrait2 to "mischievious">> <<set $chasestatus to "There seems to be more to him than meets the eye.">> <<set $rieltrait1 to "neurotic">> <<set $rieltrait2 to "keen-witted">> <<set $rielstatus to "He holds his cards close to his chest.">> <<set $redtrait1 to "charismatic">> <<set $redtrait2 to "honest">> <<set $redstatus to "He's grateful to you for trying to help his Circle.">> <<set $aylatrait1 to "flighty">> <<set $aylatrait2 to "stubborn">> <<set $aylastatus to "She's fighting her urge to roam by sticking with the Shepherds. For now.">> <<set $halektrait1 to "solemn">> <<set $halektrait2 to "mature">> <<set $halekstatus to "He respects you for your conduct in the Reach.">> <<set $lavinettrait1 to "sophisticated">> <<set $lavinettrait2 to "charming">> <<set $lavinetstatus to "She wants to bring the power of the Norm nobility to your cause.">> <<set $lavinetcolor to "auburn">> <<set $mimirtrait1 to "mysterious">> <<set $mimirtrait2 to "somewhat bizarre">> <<set $mimirstatus to "She seems insistent that the gods have sent her to help you.">> <<set $cainemeet to false>> <<set $cainetrait1 to "curious">> <<set $cainetrait2 to "excitable">> <<set $cainestatus to "He practically worships you.">> <<set $prihinestatus to "She's annoyed by what a poor servant you are.">> <<set $croellemeet to false>> <<set $croellestatus to "You don't know a thing about him...">> <<set $autarchstatus to "There are whispers that she has grown quite ill, and that her sons and advisors do most of the ruling in the Consortium today.">> <<set $brionytrait1 to "cheerful">> <<set $brionytrait2 to "fierce">> <<set $brionystatus to "She is the reigning Champion of the Hero's Arena in Heth Macoll.">>

/* ------------------------------ SQUADS -------------------------------- */ <<set $trainingtime to 0>> <<set $teammorale to 0>> <<set $teamdiscipline to 0>> /* team discipline > team survives the battle if their stats are met/don't desert team morale > team is loyal to MC and obeys them if they decide to dispatch them to accompany others (Prihine, Chandry, Caine if not recruited, Nessa, etc, the children (if not quarantined)) */ <<set $recruitsmission to "">> <<set $inchargescholar to "">> <<set $inchargeassassin to "">> <<set $justynscoreranged to 88>> <<set $justyngraderanged to "">> <<set $justynscoremelee to 50>> <<set $justyngrademelee to "">> <<set $justynscoreriding to 78>> <<set $justyngraderiding to "">> <<set $justynscorearcana to 80>> <<set $justyngradearcana to "">> <<set $justynscoretactics to 80>> <<set $justyngradetactics to "">> <<set $justynscorediplomacy to 90>> <<set $justyngradediplomacy to "">> <<set $justynscoreoffense to 75>> <<set $justyngradeoffense to "">> <<set $justynscoredefense to 78>> <<set $justyngradedefense to "">> <<set $justynscorestealth to 68>> <<set $justyngradestealth to "">> <<set $cybelescoreranged to 70>> <<set $cybelegraderanged to "">> <<set $cybelescoremelee to 72>> <<set $cybelegrademelee to "">> <<set $cybelescoreriding to 90>> <<set $cybelegraderiding to "">> <<set $cybelescorearcana to 78>> <<set $cybelegradearcana to "">> <<set $cybelescoretactics to 50>> <<set $cybelegradetactics to "">> <<set $cybelescorediplomacy to 65>> <<set $cybelegradediplomacy to "">> <<set $cybelescoreoffense to 78>> <<set $cybelegradeoffense to "">> <<set $cybelescoredefense to 78>> <<set $cybelegradedefense to "">> <<set $cybelescorestealth to 80>> <<set $cybelegradestealth to "">> <<set $ysascoreranged to 85>> <<set $ysagraderanged to "">> <<set $ysascoremelee to 55>> <<set $ysagrademelee to "">> <<set $ysascoreriding to 80>> <<set $ysagraderiding to "">> <<set $ysascorearcana to 90>> <<set $ysagradearcana to "">> <<set $ysascoretactics to 88>> <<set $ysagradetactics to "">> <<set $ysascorediplomacy to 68>> <<set $ysagradediplomacy to "">> <<set $ysascoreoffense to 75>> <<set $ysagradeoffense to "">> <<set $ysascoredefense to 75>> <<set $ysagradedefense to "">> <<set $ysascorestealth to 70>> <<set $ysagradestealth to "">> <<set $darenscoreranged to 92>> <<set $darengraderanged to "">> <<set $darenscoremelee to 90>> <<set $darengrademelee to "">> <<set $darenscoreriding to 75>> <<set $darengraderiding to "">> <<set $darenscorearcana to 65>> <<set $darengradearcana to "">> <<set $darenscoretactics to 88>> <<set $darengradetactics to "">> <<set $darenscorediplomacy to 50>> <<set $darengradediplomacy to "">> <<set $darenscoreoffense to 90>> <<set $darengradeoffense to "">> <<set $darenscoredefense to 88>> <<set $darengradedefense to "">> <<set $darenscorestealth to 85>> <<set $darengradestealth to "">>